#there WILL be a fucking dissertation and a half.

[revasserium]

rain what are the best books you’ve read since you’ve been away?

*cracks knuckles* oh my sweetest of baby jesuses nonnie, from wheremst do i even stART LOL. well -- i read about 99 books in the calendar year of 2022 alone (some were re-reads, but most weren't), though to be fair, i'd set that goal for myself at the beginning of the year. so i'm gonna pick from that subset + the about 20ish books i've read this year, sound good? alrighty, let's go.

fantasy - wayward children series by seanan mcguire

this is probably my new favorite book series. period. like. i'm trying to think of other series that i've read that i want to shove down other ppls throats as vehemently as i do this series and... it doesn't exist. the lyricism in the prose is just *chefs kiss*!!! they're novellas (about 150pages each!), and there are a ton of them, so i just devoured like the entire series in a single week. pls PLS give this a try!

fiction - a secret history by donna tart

not that i need to tout this book any more than it already has been on tumblr but. it created the entire dark academia movement and is still one of the cornerstones of my personal literary canon; like oH bOY can tart write a fuCKING SENTENCE. this was a re-read, cause i originally read it in like 2015, loved it, and then didn't re-read it again, but i did last year and i want to tattoo this entire book into my bones. this is the kind of writing to which i aspire on the DAILY

short stories - her body and other parties by carmen maria machado

again, i feel like this book has been talked about by everyone and their mother and pLEASE DEAR GOD read the trigger warnings!!! they are there for a REASON! but again, gorgeous writing, INSANE exploration of the female body (and the shit that owners of said bodies have to deal with), gender, sexuality, queerness, and general mind-boggling weirdness.

nonfiction - on writers and writing by margaret attwood

one of the greatest writers of our age, writing about her favorite writers and their favorite writings. what more could you ask for??? not much TBH. and add to that atwood's signature like dry humor and voice and just sldkfjaosidj also, this expanded my tbr by like 30 books cause she quotes SUCH GOOD STUFF at the beginning of each chapter!! and it's a short read - it just puts the art and tedium and magic and mundane of writing into such good perspective??? amazing 100/10, 5 stars on yelp, 3 michelin stars.

poetry - i'll fly away by rudy francisco

ppl who have been here since 3 years ago know that i am a rudy stan. i stan his slam poetry, his written poetry, him as a human being. this is def a more "political" collection than helium (also a fucking bANGER), but i still savored every single word. i love it. i love him.

honorary mentions:

the night circus by erin morgenstern

ninth house & hell bent by leigh bardugo

the house on the cerulean sea by tj klune

red winter series by annette marie

mythos, heros, and troy by stephen fry

if we were villains by ml rio

where the crawdads sing by deliah owens

a lesson in vengeance by victoria lee

evelyn hugo & daisy jones & carrie soto by taylor jenkins reid

grief is the thing with feathers by max porter

rebecca by daphne du maurier

bunny by mona awad

[harbingersecho]

I don't feel pain I never escape I'm under the bed I'm licking the floor

[some-zer0]

Forever obsessed with the way that Bridge to the Turnabout revolves around Morgan, Diego, Iris, and Misty deciding they alone know what's best for the people they care about, with that assumption being inherently false due to it having been constructed on outdated, heavily biased memories

Morgan wants Pearl to be Master because SHE wanted to be Master, so she assumes her plan's the best thing for Pearl, even though we can clearly see that it would ruin Pearl's life

Diego's using Maya as a proxy for Mia, believing that since he couldn't save Mia he has to save Maya, but his grief blinds him to the fact that he doesn't actually have a personal relationship with Maya

Iris is, once again, going along with a plan because she assumes others know best, but she's also an ambiguous enough character that you could interpret her as trying to fulfill an obligation to Pearl (her sister), Maya (the future Master), and Phoenix (who she wasn't able to protect last time)

And Misty is trying to save her daughter, but she's also the one who ran away when Mia and Maya were children, thereby putting them directly in danger of Fey clan politics in the first place

Diego, Iris, and Misty have multiple opportunities to tell Pearl, Phoenix, or Maya what's going on, but they're so set on viewing them a certain way that they can't see them as they really are. Like, Phoenix has been Maya's closest friend and biggest supporter since Mia's death, and he's a major caretaker of Pearl too, so why not let him know what's happening? Pearl genuinely doesn't know what Morgan's asking her to do -- she could almost certainly be talked out of the channeling if she understood that Maya would be in danger, so why not tell her? And Maya has already been involved in several extremely dangerous situations, including a previous plot by Morgan, so why not tell her? Especially since it's her life on the line?

Bridge to the Turnabout is a story of good intentions, but ultimately all that those good intentions did was rob Maya, Pearl, and Phoenix of their agency and lead to unnecessary tragedy

[eddie-spielman]

FUCK

(i just finished the magnus archives)

(this show has obliterated me)

(thank you all for having me while i go jump off a fucking cliff)

[snowsays]

god I hate having anxiety and placing my worth on my productivity

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

bad wolf soda <3

[arataneo-a]

HOLY SHIT MY CODE WORKS RAAAAAAAAH

[mrsbeef]

How It Should Have Ended

[crawlingbetweenearthandheaven]

angry at myself for not applying to oxford. i know so many thickos who got into oxford. i could have got in. need to let it go because it has been ten years since my open day but like. still feel inadequate for "only" going where i did go..

[gayjaytodd]

.

[tuttle-did-it]

They did the same on the news with Hillary Clinton vs Donald Trump. She was repeatedly called Hillary, him Trump.

I feel like it’s another way to make women politicians and leaders smaller, less than, and to make sure they are immediately gendered.

If you routinely refer to every politician by their last name except for the women who you’re always apparently on a first name basis with, maybe spare a moment to ponder that habit.

[vampiredungeon]

Everything single threads post is some shit like “Evil Karen Calls Me Every Slur But Is Immediately Ashamed After I Reveal To Her: I Had My Tonsils Removed Last Week” or “I Am So Disappointed By The Treatment Of Grecian Bisexuals From The Pink Fluffy Puppy Fandom”

[selfconsumerofmywoes]

me applying to do a dissertation on literature like: no i have not read an entire book since starting here, no i am in fact extremely bad at analysis, yes i have only ever done one literature module, no i do not know if i have actually passed it yet

[justatypicalwizard]

Bakugo who eats you out because he lost a bet, smut

It all started with a bet. It was this specific chaotic type of bet that you throw over your shoulder when agitated. The one that comes pistoling out of your lips as soon as it comes to your mind, or even earlier, a fog of war limits your common sense.

This was often the case with Katsuki Bakugo who was world widely known as the most annoying person on earth.

Okay, maybe he stood on this podium only in your world (others deemed Denki as the most insufferable) but it was enough to fire the never ending quarrels.

The two of you were similar in many senses, none of which would ever admit. Despite you being way less aggressive, you had your ways of getting under other peoples’ skin when displeased. You had this fighting spirit and competitive nature that could tune well with Katsuki’s. Unfortunately it most often sang off-key.

It was hard to tell what he thought about you. On one hand you’d say he definitely disliked you, to some point maybe? If he did dislike you he wouldn’t keep you around the small circle of his friends. Katsuki proved that he could push away anyone he wished to, no matter the circumstances. That’s what happened with Deku.

So Katsuki Bakugo disliked the fact that he liked you. Or he liked to dislike you. Either way you fought, ebbed and always surged back. Oh, and bets?

I bet you won’t even make it halfway before the time is up. He throws when he passes you down the hallway, spotting you bending your back over a book, minutes before the exam.

I bet your lovely friend will come looking for you soon. You snicker leaving him in the kitchen of the house party you’re both at. He’s currently hiding from a bimbo who really tries to ask him out and doesn’t take no for an answer.

I bet your mum dropped you when you were little.

I bet Miruko will kick your ass over this.

I bet they’ll send this essay back. It’s shit.

I bet it’ll die in this sunlight.

“Huh.” He knit his brows together, throwing you a nasty look. “Old hag didn’t say anything. It looks like it needs light.”

You were currently in his dorm room, analysing a small plant his mother left him. It was tiny, in a small ceramic pot, with three juicy green leaves poking out of the fresh soil.

“Well, I bet it’ll die if you put it in this sun.” You threw, shrugging your shoulders.

“Okay. If I win you’ll shut the fuck up for a single day around me. No words, not even a squeak.”

With the eye of your imagination you could see Katsuki pestering you for a whole day while you’d be unable to fire back. Yet, you had nothing to worry about. The little dude on the windowsill will bear three of four days before wittering. It’s the type that needs more shade.

“Fine. And if I win you can eat my ass.”

He chuckled, throwing a not happening over his shoulder before ushering you to work you both had to do.

A week later you were back in his room. It was a pleasant place to work in - clean, quiet, and always stocked with tea and coffee. Unlike you, Katsuki had the luxury of a single room which always soured your mood when he rubbed it in your face.

You were resting in his desk chair, legs crossed and organising a bunch of sources you were about to use later in your dissertation. It was the least pleasant part of writing essays. Finding academic sources in the library or browsing for them on the internet was not half bad. One could get in the swing of it after some time. And it made you feel like a real student all book heavy bags in a spacious bibliotheca.

Organising them later though? A pain in the ass.

“-by the way.” You caught only the ending of his sentence.

“Huh?” Turning around you spotten Katsuki looking at something in the far end of his room.

There was a closet there, one that didn’t quite reach the ceiling but was massive in shape. Atop of it sat the little dude in his sweet ceramic pot. Unfortunately all that was left of his three juicy leaves was one stem fighting for its life.

You clapped your hands in satisfaction, cracking a victorious laugh.

“Told you.” Fake wiping a tear from your cheek, you turned back to the desk and searched for the box you were about to tick off the long list. “Give it some more water and time. It will be fine.”

“So.” You felt him standing behind you. His shadow disrupted your writing.

“So?” Once again you turned around in his chair, cocking your brow in question.

“You won.” He crossed his arms, tapping his foot on the soft carpet in irritation.

You nodded your head with a grin but still ruffled. “Yes, and?”

“And you told me I can eat your ass.”

“Oh yeah, stuff your stupid mouth full.” You laughed but he yanked you by the arm, standing you up.

He dropped to his knees, pushing your bottom into the rim of his desk. With a shit eating grin he slipped his fingers into the sides of your trousers, grazing the bare skin of your hips underneath them.

“What the fuck dude?” You cursed, grabbing his forehead like the one of a misbehaved dog, trying to pacify him.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” The grin never left his face as he waited for your words, digging his nails into your skin.

It would be a lie to say that you never ever thought of him that way. Of course he was pretty, with his naturally fair hair that gave him a punk kind of look. With his body carved out like a marble statue. With a grin that made people both want to slap him and fawn over him.

Yes, it did cross your mind that he would be a pleasant view in the bed. Who with a sound mind wouldn’t think of that. Maybe people who weren’t attracted to-

No, it was a normal thought to have, one that may occur when you’re alone under the shower or in bed. You just often appreciate the beauty of your friends. Mina’s also cute and Kirishima is bulked as hell. It was a rational train of thoughts.

So why wasn’t your rational mind telling your hand to push him away just now? Why were you looking at his face, so close to your clothed cunt and feeling excitement bubble in your veins.

Tell me to stop and I will.

And you never did. So he pushed you to sit on the desk, pulling both your trousers and pants down at the same time. You kicked the air a few times to get rid of them but they hung from one of your ankles. It didn’t matter because his face was at its place. God bless you showered before coming here because you could have second thoughts otherwise.

“Okay, whatever the fuck you want, psycho.” You breathed as he lapped at your clit, still looking up at you.

His fingers creeped towards the inner side of your tight and you slapped him over the head.

“Uh, uh. I told you you could eat me out, not finger me. Yesterday you didn’t seem like the one to take shortcuts.” You spat, drinking up his frustration and slight… shame? Like a kid who did something wrong and got caught red handed.

“Fine.” He muttered pushing his tongue inside you. “It won’t take long anyway.” The grin was back on his face.

It indeed didn’t take long as soon, your legs were shutting tightly around his face. You weren’t even looking down anymore, the sight was a turn on but you were already overdriven. Your competitive nature was in a bliss and your head played fucking Katsuki Bakugo, on his fucking knees, between my fucking legs over and over like a broken record. You didn’t want to spoil your fun by thinking he may be having a  merrier time than you.

Not now, not when you’re so close and his palms are grabbing your tights, fingers digging into your muscles so much it would hurt if not the tension. Edging your release, you grabbed his hair in a tight fist pushing him in more, crossing your legs like it would take an “open, sesame!” to undo them.

At last, with a final short breath you came chuckling and moaning. A Katsuki may have slipped past your lips but only once.

He tore your legs open, panting like he just finished a marathon. Looking down you covered your lips to hide the laugh. His face was wet, smeared all over with what was a mixture of you both. His cheeks were heavy with blood, an intense red cutting out on his pale face. Classically, his brows were knit together.

“Did you have to make such a mess?” The blonde stood up and went to his bathroom. You caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants.

The sound of the faucet reached your ears.

“I’m not gonna say sorry. You asked for it.” And you were pretty good at it. No. Such praise would kill your ego.

The water stopped running and you heard him stomp back. You pulled your trousers on quickly, suddenly feeling awfully naked. What would happen now? Your casual friend just ate your pussy like it was his last meal before a death sentence, and you were supposed to go back to organising the sources.

You felt a hard push to the back of your head.

“Stop thinking about it and get back out.”

Eh?!

Time went on quickly and in a weird manner. A huge something was in the air but you couldn’t find a way to bring the topic up. Why did you eat my pussy out of the blue? Was it really just about the bet? Were you feeling horny and I just so happened to be there? Are we fwb now? Do you like me?

Scratch the last one. The man gave you a headache ever since his own head left your tights. Also, he was nowhere to be found. Katsuki didn’t respond to texts, he was absent from the gym during his usual hours, and his dorm room was closed. You couldn’t just go to Kirishima and say: hey, I’m trying to figure out why Katsuki gave me head, wanna help?

The moment you run into his fleeting ass, you're gonna squeeze out the answer.

An opportunity came soon when you spotted him sneaking into the laundry room. It was a cramped space with washing machines and dryers. Fortunately, you had little thieves around dorms so people usually left their washing while it was in progress. There was a big chance you’d be alone.

Running to the door you yanked them open and rushed inside. Indeed, it was only him crouched to the lowest washing machine, putting mostly black clothes inside.

“You’re here for round two?” He smirked and you gasped.

It took you by surprise, you expected yelling or awkwardness. Nevermind. You shook off your initial stumble.

“Can you explain what the fuck do you mean by all this?” You gestured in the air as if all this was a laundry basket and an empty bottle of washing liquid scattered on the floor.

Katsuki hummed, shrugging his shoulders. He dropped the halfway loaded laundry on the floor and crawled closer to you, gripping your hips in a familiar manner. This time, you were wearing a skirt. Your back hit the door.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” It fell from his lips as if he was asking whether you want vanilla or chocolate ice-cream.

Your mind ran in circles like a hamster in its ball. Start a fuss and possibly fight with Katsuki or let him do his thing and cum? Uhh.

He took your panties off completely, throwing them into his washing machine but left your skirt. Halfway in, when your chest was heaving and hips pushed further and further away from the door you heard a sound on the other side.

The doorknob shook and there was a mumble on the outside. You dug your feet into the ground and Katsuki put one of his hands to shut it closed. Yet, he didn’t stop what he was doing. Both of your palms also pushed into the thin wood making you unable to quiet the panting and loud gulps. You bit your lip and it would break if something wasn’t stuffed inside your mouth.

Taking a sharp breath through your nose, you smelled him. He stuffed your mouth with one of the shirts from his laundry. You threw him a dirty look from above to which he only smirked, going back down.

“It’s locked.” The muffled voice on the other side said.

“Maybe maintenance.” A different one answered.

When they were gone, you could finally cum, biting hard into Katsuki’s shirt. You steadied yourself on a drier afterwards while he wiped his mouth with a spare T-shirt before throwing all the leftover laundry inside the washing machine and starting it.

“My pants.” You breathed out, you were still coming back to earth.

“Ops.” He threw and with a single long stride, escaped the murder scene.

Your walk of shame in the short skirt, without panties on was long.

The third time you could talk to him happened only a day later.

You were studying with Kirishima, or more like tutoring him for free, in the library. Kirishima also had a single room in the dorms but his was far more trashy and you didn’t crave to spend time in that man cave. Instead you booked a private study room. It had a small round table, a few chairs and switches to plug in electric devices.

Halfway through your study Kirishima stated he needed to go to the bathroom. You nodded and the man left. Only after a minute did you hear the door open once more.

“A line in the mens’? Unbelievable.” You chuckled but upon looking up, you were met with a nasty grin.

“Kirishima told me you guys were studying.” He cornered you. “You know the deal.”

Katsuki slipped behind your chair as you whipped your head around to stop him. He placed both of his hands on your shoulders, surprisingly gentle.

“Just tell me to stop.”

Oh fuck you you pretty bastard. Is what you thought.

“Oh fuck you.” Is what you said and you wanted to add something but he pushed your upper half into the table simultaneously yanking the chair from under your butt.

It took a lick for your knees to get kinda soft and your morale to stumble between being a decent person or getting this unbelievably lucky chance for a third time.

“Can we at least do it after I finish with Kiri? I can come to your room as quickly as I am able to.” You whispered.

“Or you can call the dumbass and buy me a few minutes.” Katsuki muttered between your folds.

You cursed under your breath and grabbed your phone. Pick up, pick up, pick up, goddamn. Kirishima could be back any second. Although nothing terrible would happen if he came in on you, it would be embarrassing like hell. Finally, you heard his voice on the other side of the line.

“I’m just coming back, literally wait a second-”

“No!” You shouted into the device. “I mean.”

Katsuki seemed to slow down between your tights. Good, the bastard is not stupid and he cut you some slack this time.

“I’m sorry but I just really need a coffee, I thought you’d still be somewhere around the entrance.” You pieced together a makeshift excuse.

“I can go back. ‘Ts the least I can do for your help.” Kirishima laughed so genuinely it made you feel slightly bad for playing him like this.

“Yeah, uh, it really is boring like hell.” You laughed. The whole phone call made you unable to focus on Katsuki who was behind you and you really wanted to go back to minding him. “If I can be honest it would be lovely if you could bring me coffee from that cafe down and opposite of the library. You know which. I slept really bad and need their double espresso.” Kiri, please just say yes!

“Of course, anything for you.”

That sweetheart. Kirishima was really the perfect man, contrary to Katsuki who just now, at the very end of your call, decided to be an absolute asshole.

You felt two of his fingers push past your entrance and force your walls open. A breath got caught in your throat.

“Okay thanks, bye!” You smashed the end call button. “What the fuck are you do-”

But he was turning you around, lapping his tongue over your clit, moving his fingers in and out of your cunt all of which with closed eyes and a blissful look on his face. You gave in, because it felt so good.

After a while you finished all over his face, for the third time this week.

“I told you not to finger me.” You complained, dressing yourself in fear of Kirishima being too neat in his mission to get you coffee.

“I know and I didn’t like it. So I had to distract you.” He smirked, resting his hip on the table.

At that moment, Kirishima came inside with two paper cups, steam escaping the small opening in the lids.

“Oh, hi dude! I didn’t think you’d come here. I’d buy you coffee too.” Kirishima chirped.

“Forget about it, I was supposed to do something anyway. Just came in to say hi.” The blonde flicked his hand in the air. “Oh, and if you want-” He turned to you. “You can come to my room later and finish what we were talking about.” With that he slipped past the door leaving you with a grimace and Kirishima with a dumbfounded expression.

“What were you guys talking about?” The redhead asked.

“Nothing important, just about transplanting a small plant his mum gave him. I’ll help him later, he has already managed to nearly kill it.”

[anglophobelit]

I can’t tell if my support systems are shit or if I am just that much of a crybaby. Probably both

[mycological-mariner]

My joints sound like a roll of bubble wrap