trash literature

2

“He knew that he’d never desire any lips other than hers- He knew from that moment, only she would exist, her neck, shoulders,- her delicate, cool skin, which couldn’t be compared to any other he had ever touched. He gazed into her violet eyes, the most beautiful eyes in the world, eyes which he feared would become…...Everything. He knew.” 
            - Andrzej Sapkowski (The Last Wish)

There was a myth of the poor in this country, but it did not include us, no matter how I tried to squeeze us in. There was this concept of the “good” poor, and that fantasy had little to do with the everyday lives my family had survived. The good poor were hardworking, ragged but clean, and intrinsically honorable. We were the bad poor. We were men who drank and couldn’t keep a job; women, invariably pregnant before marriage, who quickly became worn, fat, and old from working too many hours and bearing too many children; and children with runny noses, watery eyes, and the wrong attitudes.
—  Dorothy Allison
Studying English lit shit post

the only difference between studying for english finals and reading fanfiction is the individual’s willingness to read until the sun rises day after day

Originally posted by slashlove801

Originally posted by slothilda

Originally posted by mflorghi


However,

instead of either/or you can probs juggle all 5+ assigned readings AND fanfiction in a time-crunch = multi-tasking and enjoying it 

Originally posted by natforprez

bonus (studying)

you can find ships in assigned readings

Originally posted by tetsuuyya

Trash examples in summer semester:

  • All Quiet on the Western front - Kat/Paul hurt/comfort, angst, fluff or Himmelstoss/Paul filth or Paul/Mother Symbolism shitshow
  • Lear - Edmund/Edgar sin, we’ve all considered it once Edgar/Cordelia hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, Lear/Gloucestor blind old gay dads in the forest and flower crowns hurt/comfort or crack
  • Frankenstein - Victor does not deserve Henry Clerval, the cinnamon roll, or really anyone in his life tbh, smol creature/love and protection  
  • watchmen - Dr. Manhattan/anyone, The Comedian/everyone pls, all characters are either thirsting for Dr. Man or The Comedian or both let’s be real - Minutemen on THOT patrol 

exam writing

just dont add a dumpster of ships to essay responses 

don’t go that deep 

and you’ll be 0kAy

otherwise, your tolerant engl prof reaction to filthy essay laced with sin:

Originally posted by harrypotterandthedeathlyhellos

or more likely:

Originally posted by otaku-gaming-fandom

some profs:

Originally posted by shipping-n-handling

or use the material for ao3 instead 

Originally posted by ravio-lita


i had a classmate who once wrote the nastiest beowulf/beast fanfiction 


Term paper

but in addition to exams you’re probably writing papers for the gods at ungodly hours at ungodly deadlines with ungodly prof expectations for the final week time-crunches

you @ fandom updates: 

Originally posted by tetsuuyya

you @ paper:

Originally posted by seanmlp95

prof marking your paper:

Originally posted by xspongebobmomentsx

post-semester glow before final official marks are uploaded:

Originally posted by wattpad

Final thoughts 

thoroughly indulge in semester break filth because your school will probs buyback your $20 texts each for 25 cents, leaving you with increasing debt and a filthier brain to reflect on for two weeks until the next semester

Originally posted by deathrayofgay


read, ship, write, die, repeat 

Originally posted by mrsjacewayland

6

“The study of nature makes a man at last as remorseless as nature.” The Island of Dr Moreau, H.G. Wells

The word “brugh” was deeply offensive to Tom. No one who customarily dresses in spotless white linen and a midnight-blue coat, whose nails are exquisitely manicured, whose hair gleams like polished mahogany–in short no one of such refined tastes and delicate habits likes to be reminded that he spent the first two or three thousand years of his existence in a damp dark hole, wearing (when he took the trouble to wear anything at all) a kilt of coarse, undyed wool and a mouldering rabbitskin cloak.*
— 

*The brugh was for countless centuries the common habitation of the fairy race. It is the original of all the fairy palaces one reads of in folktales. Indeed the tendency of Christian writers to glamorize the brugh seems to have increased with the centuries. It has been described as a “fairy palace of gold and crystal, in the heart of the hill” (Lady Wilde, Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms and Superstitions of Ireland, Ward & Downey, London, 1887). Another chronicler of fairy history wrote of “a steep-sided grassy hill, round as a pudding-basin…A small lake on its summit had a crystal floor, which served as a skylight.” (Sylvia Townsend Warner, The Kingdom of Elfin, Chatto & Windus, London, 1977).

The truth is that the brugh was a hole or series of interconnecting holes that was dug into a barrow, very like a rabbit’s warren or badger’s set. To paraphrase a writer of fanciful stories for children, this was not a comfortable hole, it was not even a dry, bare sandy hole; it was a nasty, dirty, wet hole.

Fairies, who are nothing if not resilient, were able to bear with equanimity the damp, the dark and the airlessness, but stolen Christian children brought to the brugh died, as often as not, of suffocation.

My mother has taught me to love with a wolf in my heart. I howl for no man-I howl only for myself and my broken soul. Though I am strong, my animal heart has taught me to be lonely-I must not let warmth into my soul. My lycan heart is cold-blooded and icy, cast in iron, because this is how all warriors are made to exist. But then I see you. I see you, and it all comes crashing down.


TERRIBLE BOOK. I HAD TO FORCE MYSELF TO READ IT AND IT STILL TOOK 12 DAYS TO READ IT. The first part is confusing and irrelevant. We don’t need to know most of the information. Part Two was when they actually get on the life boat and the story begins. FYI the boat would have sunk. There is no way a lifeboat would handle a 250 (something) begal tiger, An orangutan, a zebra, and a 16 year old Indian boy. no way. The books starts to get better here BUT I CAN’T STAND THE DESCRIPTION OF THE ANIMALS BEING EATEN. I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT! IT MAKES ME SAD! The last part of the book was dang right confusing. This part is where Pi is telling the owner of the boat company his story and answering questions. This brings up the question if it’s actually a real story or not. That question never gets answered. I absolutely hated this book and if I didn’t have to read it for Honors English, I wouldn’t have. I hated every second of it and seriously want to burn the crap out of this book. Don’t waste your time and money guys. Not worth it at all.

balkan-trash  asked:

Hello, I've been reading a lot of travelogues recently and I noticed that a lot of them have the same narrative of "American person goes to Italy, discovers how the Italians are endearingly inefficient yet learns important lessons about life and love." (A really egregious example of this is 'the Venice Experiment by Barry Frangipane). As a Croatian, I get annoyed when people are so patronizing towards us, and i was wondering how you feel about those books.

Hello and thanks for writing! I mostly feel angry whenever I read about travelogues like that. We discussed a couple of similar instances here and here last year and I think it’s mainly disrespectful and a wasted opportunity to actually create bridges between different cultures. Today we’ve been arguing on Twitter over another article (I won’t link to it because they don’t deserve the views, since it’s pretty clear they’re using it as clickbait) about an American who stayed for one year in Genova and wrote a list of impressions that generalizes his single experience to the whole country and says completely false things. The thing I hate the most about this “genre” is that approaching a different culture is never seen as an opportunity to learn, but only to judge like: “We do this different and thus inherently better and God forbid I even bother to understand why you do it like that, you silly uncivilized kids”. That’s the worst attitude one could ever have towards a different set of rules and traditions. And let’s not even mention how most of the times they either keep up with stereotypes from 50 years ago or act surprised when they see those stereotypes that are meant to make us look ancient prove to be completely false.

That said, if anyone knows of a good travelogue about Italy that doesn’t follow this wretched path of disrespect, please recommend them to us!

Imagine: Dallas trying to sneak you out because you’re a Soc and your parents would kill you if they knew (Part 1 of 3)

The fence clinked behind you and you looked up from your spot on the porch to see Dallas Winston hanging over the iron fence that surrounded your house. You lived on the richer side of town, but not the part where every house was in perfect condition.

You sighed. “Not now, Dallas. My ma will be back any minute and if she sees you she’ll behead you.”

He shrugged. “What’s life without a little danger?” He hauled himself over the fence and jumped up onto the porch, grabbing your book. “What’s this trash? Literature?”

“Yeah,” you replied, grabbing it back and grinning slightly. “It’s good literature.”

“I bet,” he snorted. He took the book again and put it on the railing of the porch, pulling you to your feet and spinning you so your back was against his chest. “Alright, baby, we’re gonna blow this joint and go to the drive-in, yeah?”

“Dally…” you sighed again. “My ma?”

“She’ll think you’re out with friends. C’mon!” He lifted you over his shoulder and ran down the steps and down the sidewalk. Eventually, he set you down and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to twirl some hair near your ear as you walked.

You knew that if someone saw you two out that late you’d get in a lot of crap with your parents - especially because you were with Dallas Winston - but as soon as you were out of your neighbourhood, you felt at ease.

When you made it to the drive in, you found a place at the back of the theatre seats that were there and Dally pulled you onto his lap, hands rubbing your legs softly. He knew you weren’t gonna be ready for what he was any time soon, but he still made sure you felt wanted.

You leaned your forehead against his and sighed. “Thanks…”

“For what, doll?”

“Takin’ me out tonight. Ma wanted to embroider my cheerleading outfit tonight,” you giggled, entwining your fingers with his.

People tended to be wrong about Dallas, always saying he wanted sex and nothing but. You knew it wasn’t true because he went out of his way to take you out whenever he had time and he spent any money he could spare on you. So either he was incredibly in love with you or you had tamed him a little.

He pushed some of your hair behind your ear and a small smirk spread on his lips. “Anything for you, doll face. So…I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh no, is that why there’s smoke?” you joked.

He laughed. “Hah hah, very funny. No. I’ve been thinkin’ that we get a place together, ya know? You want away from your parents and I’ve been saving up some money so…”

You stared at him in shock. “What?”