#R J Dent

[rjdent]

"It is said I present vice as too odious. The reason: I do not want people to be attracted to vice. I am far more moral than those who make their villains attractive. I shall only ever depict crime in the most vivid colours of hell. I want readers to see crime in all its vile nakedness, to fear it and to hate it, and so I show it in all its horror. Woe to those who dress crime in roses! Their intentions are impure, and I will never imitate them.” — The Marquis de Sade

Forthcoming early 2025, the first English translation of The Marquis de Sade’s perceptive, unconventional collection Stories, Tales, and Fables. Translated by R.J. Dent.

Written in his Bastille cell in the years between 120 Days of Sodom and Justine, Stories, Tales, and Fables is an introduction for those who are not yet familiar with the work of this controversial French literary innovator.

This collection also includes a selection of Sade’s non-fiction, ranging from his insightful survey of the novelist’s art, Some Thoughts on the Novel, to his Last Will and Testament, as well as several essays about Sade’s work by renowned authors including Apollinaire, Heine, Masson, Anatole France and Paul Ėluard.

Book details:

[moider-time]

Don't be shy tell the public abt our Romeo and Juliet bruharvey au 👀👀👀

👀👀 oh y'all ain't ready lol tbh I doubt I'm gonna do this justice (and bestie I am so stealing some of your lines cause your writing?? so good)

Let's set the scene. We have the Dents (Montagues) and the Waynes (Capulets) who are at war in the streets of Gotham. Christopher Dent thinks he can try and step to Martha and her empire despite so many other people telling him otherwise.

Gilda and Harvey recently split and he's not really in the best mental space. Well he thought focusing on work was a perfectly good distraction but according to Ivy "trying to burn out your retinas by reading legal mumbo jumbo is not fucking healthy, Dent!" So Ivy and Martinez decide that he needs a night out so they drag him to a fancy dress party to de-stress. And that's where he sees him and knows he'll never be the same.

Now Bruce hasn't been on speaking terms with his parents for a while. Not since he saw his mama Martha shoot someone. He still remembers how their blood soaked the pavement, their chest stuttering as if not sure what to do. What hurt even more was seeing Martha blank-faced, not touched by the wriggling of the man in front of her. (This couldn't be the same woman who played Princes & Princesses with him - that dressed him up and made him feel loved. It couldn't be. Why is it her?)

So he leaves, gets a small apartment in well, not the best part of Gotham but it could be worse. He focuses on his passion for art and he's not struggling but his job doesn't lend itself to financial stability. Especially not when he has his babies to think about. He still keeps in touch with Harley and when she invites him for a night out with her and Selina and rightfully brings up him rarely leaving his apartment, he can't exactly say no.

So he makes sure Dick, Cass, Jason and Tim are tucked in, kisses them on the forehead, triple locks the door and heads out. He doesn't think he'll spend that long, just enough time to relax and spend time with his sister and friend. And of course it's at this party that he sees him.

Both Harvey and Bruce can agree that they never expected to see someone so pretty at this party. They see each other across the room but find it hard to push past the ever shifting masses so they can satisfy the attraction between them.

Harvey can feel the heat of eyes across his skin, his scars. He doesn't mind when people stare after all, there's no point in caring about something you can't change. He'll always be him, and people will always be people. And anyway, he'd rather have them judge the ones on the surface. The other ones; the scars he and Jessica shared from the tip of their spine to the belt of their waists, those were worse. Those were personal. Those you kept in the house.

When they finally meet, their eyes lock and their bodies graze against each other. Bruce acknowledged him with fascination instead of disgust. As if his scars were a physical trait out of the ordinary, like purple eyes or blue hair, but not inherently disturbing.

"I like your rings," he said, dropping his doe eyes to Harvey's hands. He hated them because they were silver. He started loving them again.

"Do you want one?"

Bruce smiled with his whole mouth, "Only if you take some of mine"

The music shifts so something soft and slow and as they swap rings, their bodies begin to sway and dance. Harvey carries Bruce's sapphire blue ring on a chain right above his heart. A silent promise of sorts. Bruce wears a small coiling snake with a white diamond as one eye and a black one as the other on his thumb and even then it's a bit loose. And doesn't that sight just leave Harvey breathless?

Neither of them know when they start to lean in, when their breath starts to mingle. Bruce, standing on his toes and asking if Harvey's ok with this. Saying it's alright if he isn't, that he shouldn't feel pressur- And Harvey leans down to connect their lips while they're moving to their own music.

Kissing Harvey felt like nothing else he could've imagined. Bruce had kissed a total of 3 people by his age of 29. Selina in middle school, bored and grumpy with having to act the damsel in distress in their school play. Oliver, when they were 16 and curious, scrubbing their lips until they bled and Khoa. The last lover, the love who outlived all Bruce was.

Harvey kissing him now undid 4 years of pain. It awoke romance from its graveyard sleep and spread something lovely and gentle but aggressive and savage in Bruce still. They floated through the music, not noticing or maybe uncaring of the footsteps approaching them. Bruce floated when Thomas dragged him out the door, a snake on his finger and whiskey on his lips. He hoped Harvey floated when Jessica did the same.

[bibliollama]

Stacking The Shelves #9

Stacking The Shelves is a meme hosted by Reading Reality all about sharing the books you are adding to your shelves, may it be physical or virtual. This means you can include books you buy in physical store or online, books you borrow from friends or the library, review books, gifts and of course ebooks! My Amazon first read selection was: Susannah Nix – The Love Code I picked up one Kindle…

[aajjks]

TEACH ME (m)

synopsis. Teach me.. that’s what he says everytime he’s got his fingers deep inside you.

trope: age gap [10 years] yandere, forbidden relationship and cheating.

warnings. f-ngering, expl-cit themes, pr-fanity, he’s got a filthy mouth, f-rbidden r-lationship [teach-r x st-dent], y-ndere jk, p-sessive beh-viour, j-alousy, ch-ating, m-oning strict 18+ THEMES. MDNÏ.

note. PHEWWWWWW 🫠🫡🥵… YALL….. this is for all the horny girls on my blog. ONLY FOR YOU!! I think this is not gonna be a series but just a one shot and I hope to get it out soon but I wanted to put out a teaser and please talk to him and I just know you’re gonna love him because I know you guys have some fucked up fantasies. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS. I LOVE READING YOUR THOUGHTS AND YOUR ASKS also YALL the colored gradient text looks so pretty 🥹🥹🥹

note 2.0. This is strictly for 18+ so please do not interact if you’re underage. [TEASER]

If you wanna be tagged, please reply under this post x

“Hahaha what??”

Jungkook walks to your figure, you’re standing behind your desk, your back leaning against the blackboard, he knows you’ve said something really important right now but…

How the fuck is he supposed to take you seriously when your tits are practically popping out of your right dress shirt? Or the pencil skirt that is clinging onto your ass like second skin?

Goodness you’re so fucking hot, his cock is practically pulsing inside his underwear.

“Ms yn… what?” He manages to say, now towering over your smaller figure, you glare at him, swear tickling down your forehead.

“It’s Mrs Jeong for you!”

“Ms yn…. No.” Jungkook rolls his eyes as he closes the distance between you two, there’s no one in this empty university hallway, your door is closed,

Jungkooks eyes are set on you like a predator and the way your breathing is irregular suddenly, makes him feel superior to you despite your age difference of 10 years.

“Sorry that’s almost sounds like you said Mrs Jeon…. Haha… so similar won’t you agree?” His chest is now touching yours, his eyes contain a carnal hunger for you.

“I’m sorry but that can’t happen, yn.” He tsks, feigning disappointment, like he’s sympathizing with you, but you know better.

Jungkook knows that you know him better than anyone.

You know him so deeply and so intimately.

Jungkook forces his knee between your legs, spreading them, you gasp, he smirks.

“How dare you try to abandon me huh? I don’t give a fuck- NO JUNGKOOK YOU DONT UNDERSTAND I-I CANT COMPROMISE- shhh.” He presses his finger on your tinted lips.

He guides his hand down your panties, playing with the hem of it, “n-no jungkook please don’t-“” jungkook doesn’t stop, “listen yn- or Mrs Jeong.” He grits his teeth while spitting your last name out,

“I don’t give a FUCK ABOUT YOUR PATHETIC HUSBAND! OR YOUR SHAM OF A MARRIAGE!” He seethes,

“How pathetic you are huh?” he bites his tongue before speaking. “You sleep on that very bed with your stupid husband where I’ve made you cum so many fuckin times huh?” He tugs your panties down roughly.

You need a reminder of who you belong to, and he will gladly do it right here in this classroom.

“J-JUNGKOOK What are you doing?” You stutter, he rolls his eyes.

You know damn well what he’s doing. “Oh ms yn. You should know damn well and what I’m doing. Because your body knows it.” He smiles, almost cruelly at you.

He starts to tease your wet pooling heat, his fingers skilled as he starts to move them around your clit.

“nghh nooo..” you can’t even hold your moans at this point. He gets your sexual frustration. Your pathetic excuse of husband can never please you.

Your brain & your heart, and especially your pussy are currently fighting with each other right now disagreeing with what you really want and what you should do.

arguing with you between what’s wrong and what’s right.

“Oh come on ms yn- you’re soaking wet for me..” he plunges his fingers inside your inviting cunt.

“Oh yes moan for me…” he groans, whispering in your ear.

Your eyes are at the verge of rolling back he fucks you with his calloused fingers. “Divorce the bastard and I’ll let you cum.”

He pumps them in and out of you- teasing you.

Jungkook licks the side of your neck, grunting in your ear.

“If you won’t divorce him I’ll murder him and then fuck you right infront of his rotting corpse.”

[flightlessinsect]

The way some tom stans - or haters pretending to be stans - love to catastrophize the opinions of losers on social media needs to be studied. Because why did I see an anon on one blog say they "contacted tom's publicist" to tell them to do something about the "R&J pr disaster"?

Have y'all never followed any celebrity before? What disaster? The "disaster" of having multiple days of supportive crowds cheering at the end of each show? The "disaster" of multiple glowing reviews about the show from people who watched it - you know, people whose opinions ACTUALLY matter because they paid money to see the show? The "disaster" of the smiles on the cast's faces when they see the crowds waiting for them outside? No? Oh so you mean the "disaster" of random racists with 12 followers and a purchased blue checkmark and random tom haters who are jumping on the bandwagon to continue hating on him? The ones you guys CONTINUE to elevate by talking about them, engaging with their nonsense, or sending their tweets to active blogs... to do what, exactly? To coddle you and give you virtual hugs and comfort? To say "yeah I agree, tom is totes racist actually" because you are actually a hater but too much of a coward to hate directly?

Focus on the real people with real faces that the cast see cheering for them night after night. If you are being genuine, and the cast's mental health is your "concern", trust that they most likely know not to read that shit anymore. They probably have people filtering the actual reviews to them. If their physical safety is your "concern", trust that they have enough security to take care of them. If you are being honest-to-god "concerned" about tom's reputation, trust that you are blowing things way out of proportion. Tom gets tweets like those everyday and has been for years and he is just fine and dandy. Still getting work, still well-loved by people who actually know him, and still richer than any of us will ever be. Believe me when I say many many many many celebrities have had worse "scandals" and are still completely fine. Even the ones that are being called out right now on that block list will barely feel a dent in their reputations. As much as we like to pretend we're getting better, we still live in a celebrity-obsessed society.

Also, do take the time to consider that the silence of the production, of other cast members, and of Fran herself may be something that is happening on purpose. They see each other every day, work very (very) closely together, and surely have had discussions on how this whole thing will be handled.

Lastly, take the time to also consider that maybe you don't care about what Fran is going through at all and you just want tom to "do something about it" because you think it will give you moral superiority as his stan. OR you don't care about what Fran is going through at all and you just want to use this to fuel your hate boner for tom. Because trust me, the fans who DO care about everyone in the cast.. they are highlighting, retweeting, reblogging the glowing reviews and supportive posts and stories. They are posting pictures of Fran smiling on stage or at the stage door. They are talking about her talents, her stage presence, her beauty, her chemistry with tom. What they are NOT doing is posting hate tweets on their blogs so more people can see them.

[youarentamaybeyoureayes]

there's very few people i can't stand more than a "if olivia had never left the show, r*ni would've been endgame" truther

you mean to tell me that the same ship that was already having communication issues less than 5 minutes after their big love confession scene was going to be endgame? and you want me to be convinced it's not just the nostalgia and obsession with real life shipping talking? (because let's be honest, more than half of r*ni's hype existed because of j*livias, without them, it's hard to even believe the ship would've made a dent of impact)

then of course there's not only tim's interviews that came after the season 1 finale aired where he talked about how not every couple lasts as well as the importance of portraying healthy breakups in high school, but the fact that the first 3 episodes of season 2, all written sometime between late 2019 and early 2020, explicitly showed r*ni's communication issues and overall incompatibility. they were never a ship that was built to last. i don't see how they could've made it more obvious.

[todaysdocument]

Discharge Petition for H.R. 7152, the Civil Rights Act of 1964

Record Group 233: Records of the U.S. House of RepresentativesSeries: General Records

This item, H.R. 7152, the Civil Rights Act of 1964, faced strong opposition in the House Rules Committee. Howard Smith, Chairman of the committee, refused to schedule hearings for the bill. Emanuel Celler, Chairman of the Judiciary Committee, attempted to use this discharge petition to move the bill out of committee without holding hearings. The petition failed to gain the required majority of Congress (218 signatures), but forced Chairman Smith to schedule hearings.

88th CONGRESS. House of Representatives No. 5 Motion to Discharge a Committee from the Consideration of a RESOLUTION (State whether bill, joint resolution, or resolution) December 9, 1963 To the Clerk of the House of Representatives: Pursuant to Clause 4 of Rule XXVII (see rule on page 7), I EMANUEL CELLER (Name of Member), move to discharge to the Commitee on RULES (Committee) from the consideration of the RESOLUTION; H. Res. 574 entitled, a RESOLUTION PROVIDING FOR THE CONSIDERATION OF THE BILL (H. R. 7152) which was referred to said committee November 27, 1963 in support of which motion the undersigned Members of the House of Representatives affix their signatures, to wit: 1. Emanuel Celler 2. John J. Rooney 3. Seymour Halpern 4. James G Fulton 5. Thomas W Pelly 6. Robt N. C. Nix 7. Jeffery Cohelan 8. W A Barrett 9. William S. Mailiard 10. 11. Augustus F. Hawkins 12. Otis G. Pike 13. Benjamin S Rosenthal 14. Spark M Matsunaga 15. Frank M. Clark 16. William L Dawson 17. Melvin Price 18. John C. Kluczynski 19. Barratt O'Hara 20. George E. Shipley 21. Dan Rostenkowski 22. Ralph J. Rivers[page] 2 23. Everett G. Burkhalter 24. Robert L. Leggett 25. William L St Onge 26. Edward P. Boland 27. Winfield K. Denton 28. David J. Flood 29. 30. Lucian N. Nedzi 31. James Roosevelt 32. Henry C Reuss 33. Charles S. Joelson 34. Samuel N. Friedel 35. George M. Rhodes 36. William F. Ryan 37. Clarence D. Long 38. Charles C. Diggs Jr 39. Morris K. Udall 40. Wm J. Randall 41. 42. Donald M. Fraser 43. Joseph G. Minish 44. Edith Green 45. Neil Staebler 46. 47. Ralph R. Harding 48. Frank M. Karsten 49. 50. John H. Dent 51. John Brademas 52. John E. Moss 53. Jacob H. Gilbert 54. Leonor K. Sullivan 55. John F. Shelley 56. 57. Lionel Van Deerlin 58. Carlton R. Sickles 59. 60. Edward R. Finnegan 61. Julia Butler Hansen 62. Richard Bolling 63. Ken Heckler 64. Herman Toll 65. Ray J Madden 66. J Edward Roush 67. James A. Burke 68. Frank C. Osmers Jr 69. Adam Powell 70. 71. Fred Schwengel 72. Philip J. Philiben 73. Byron G. Rogers 74. John F. Baldwin 75. Joseph Karth 76. 77. Roland V. Libonati 78. John V. Lindsay 79. Stanley R. Tupper 80. Joseph M. McDade 81. Wm Broomfield 82. 83. 84. Robert J Corbett 85. 86. Craig Hosmer87. Robert N. Giaimo 88. Claude Pepper 89. William T Murphy 90. George H. Fallon 91. Hugh L. Carey 92. Robert T. Secrest 93. Harley O. Staggers 94. Thor C. Tollefson 95. Edward J. Patten 96. 97. Al Ullman 98. Bernard F. Grabowski 99. John A. Blatnik 100. 101. Florence P. Dwyer 102. Thomas L. ? 103. 104. Peter W. Rodino 105. Milton W. Glenn 106. Harlan Hagen 107. James A. Byrne 108. John M. Murphy 109. Henry B. Gonzalez 110. Arnold Olson 111. Harold D Donahue 112. Kenneth J. Gray 113. James C. Healey 114. Michael A Feighan 115. Thomas R. O'Neill 116. Alphonzo Bell 117. George M. Wallhauser 118. Richard S. Schweiker 119. 120. Albert Thomas 121. 122. Graham Purcell 123. Homer Thornberry 124. 125. Leo W. O'Brien 126. Thomas E. Morgan 127. Joseph M. Montoya 128. Leonard Farbstein 129. John S. Monagan 130. Brad Morse 131. Neil Smith 132. Harry R. Sheppard 133. Don Edwards 134. James G. O'Hara 135. 136. Fred B. Rooney 137. George E. Brown Jr. 138. 139. Edward R. Roybal 140. Harris. B McDowell jr. 141. Torbert H. McDonall 142. Edward A. Garmatz 143. Richard E. Lankford 144. Richard Fulton 145. Elizabeth Kee 146. James J. Delaney 147. Frank Thompson Jr 148. 149. Lester R. Johnson 150. Charles A. Buckley4 151. Richard T. Hanna 152. James Corman 153. Paul A Fino 154. Harold M. Ryan 155. Martha W. Griffiths 156. Adam E. Konski 157. Chas W. Wilson 158. Michael J. Kewan 160. Alex Brooks 161. Clark W. Thompson 162. John D. Gringell [?] 163. Thomas P. Gill 164. Edna F. Kelly 165. Eugene J. Keogh 166 John. B. Duncan 167. Elmer J. Dolland 168. Joe Caul 169. Arnold Olsen 170. Monte B. Fascell [?] 171. [not deciphered] 172. J. Dulek 173. Joe W. [undeciphered] 174. J. J. Pickle [Numbers 175 through 214 are blank]

[the-ellia-west]

Aight yeah fair enough

Anyway how are you

How’s editing

I'm doing pretty well, I'm done editing for now!

Got a good 500 more words into short story 3/3

And have not made a dent in my new J&R scene...

(Also, I'd love to talk more often if you're ever available!)

[sugarmountainspring]

April 15.

6:30 : I woke up. Liv was having bad dreams. I had 2 coffees and got dressed while consoling her. I didn't wanna go to work. I grabbed leftover dinner from the fridge, switched my insoles from my rubber adidas to my cheap jordan work shoes, grabbed my backpack and tool bag and went out to my car.

8:00 : I showed up at the office. Its liv's exam week so she doesnt need a lift to school cause theyre all online. I'm always early. Today my drive took me about 10 minutes. I left late and everything. Mondays I go to the office, most other days I just show up where I'm needed. B***** the office lady is taking some time off (I guess), and as usual I show up before the boss. I clock in and clean some old cardboard and garbage from the warehouse. I have a chat with L***, the architect. He tells me about some DJ software he uses and tells me he ran a DJ company for weddings and graduation parties for 26 years. Every time we chat he always reveals something cool like that. After a bit I go out to the front room of the office and hang out with Z**, S*** and N*****. J**** is late, as usual. After a while chatting like that, I check my phone and realize I had a call from my dad (who is also my manager). He says there's a couple of things to do around some properties out in A**********. I like those properties cause nobody is really out there except for R****, the super of the property. He's nice enough but he always talks about stupid shit and doesn't listen back. That's one thing, he's old so I kinda expect that. But if he catches you out by his properties he'll give you all kinds of work that's his responsibility but he doesn't want to do. Luckily, I avoid him as I pull into Building A.

10:00 : Unit 302 has some pretty bad water damage. I throw on the new Super Eyepatch Wolf video to listen to while I work. Above the window is a huge sheet of drywall, heavy, warped, and half fallen out of place. I start by trying to slice it up. I saw and saw and saw with my utility knife. I make a cut about 2 inches into the sheet. No dice. I decide hitting chunks off with my hammer would probably work better. I give it a hard whack and make nothing more than a small dent. Awesome. It looks like the repeated wetting and drying have turned the naturally flaky, wafery drywall to what is equivalent to a solid piece of cement. At this point, my grade 11 and 12 auto shop teacher's words ring in my head. "There are surgeons, and there are butchers. You should aim to be a surgeon, but butchers exist for a reason." I start tearing down the sheet with my hands, careful not to disturb the L-bracket that holds the bad piece of drywall to good ones around the window. From the ceiling falls several dead wasp nests and what appears to be a birds nest. No critters in there. Lucky me. I pack up the debris I've made and toss it in one of the garbage bins around the property.

11:30 : this is why I like a********** properties. Nobody ever does anything around here. At the end of my last little bit of work, I cleaned up the hole I made with my knife. With that solid drywall, my blade broke off like I was trying to carve the hole out of a lemon wafer stick. I just spent the last 20 minutes fucking around, trying to find a new blade. Nobody breathing down my neck or telling me to get back to work. It's kinda nice. Once that's done, I remember I was told to help out cleaning up the properties. Normally what that entails is moving garbage people are too lazy to throw in the garbage bin from the side of the bin to the inside of the bin. At the main hub I go to at this property, the bins are overflowing with junk and there are 4 twin sized box springs, 2 couches and several bags of garbage to the side. Hm. Down the line of houses and apartment buildings on the street, lots of bins that are much emptier. Guess I'm doing some hauling.

11:54 : I've scoped out some empty bins, and I've thrown some couches and shelves into them. I never ate breakfast, so I eat lunch. Today, I will be eating leftovers, a luxury I don't normally have. Normally, I'd eat at Wendy's, A&W, or grab something from the hotplate at the Foodland around the corner. But today I'm eating the Thai chili chicken on fluffy jasmine rice I made yesterday. Saving money never tasted sooooo good. At this point I'm listening to a video from one of my favourite channels, ANIKI, about the history of the yakuza from the 17th century to today. I grab a seat in my car, roll the windows down a crack because it's getting hot out (finally) and chow down.

12:05 : I finish lunch. During lunch, I think about how my car really needs an oil change, and how sometimes the "check coolant" light pops on. With the weather changing, I understand the latter and that doesn't worry me. The former? A little more pressing. There's one mechanic I trust in town. It's hours are the exact same as my work hours. I use my car for work so I can't just drop it off and pick it up at the end of the day. And one of those "half hour oil and tire change" places? Forget it. My mom got one of those a month ago and she's had nothing but trouble with her car since, from them explaining she needs a new fly wheel which she didn't pay for, to a transmission fluid flush that she did pay for, which immediately sprang a leak, stopped working, and needed to be repaired at the garage I trust that I mentioned earlier. I can change oil no problem, I just don't know where to dispose of the old oil. Maybe I should just lean into being scummy and throw it in the lake or just let it drain into some Tupperware and throw them into public trash cans. Much to consider. Much to stress over, more like. But for now, I'm back to slugging around old dirty wet couches and beds. I would ask myself why I don't get a desk job doing data entry and sending emails, but I know I'd be just as whiny and complainy there as I am here. At least here I get some exercise and some sun and a decent wage. My town isn't exactly a hub for business, but this is where I live so I take what gets doled out to me. There's a real meth problem in my city. Everywhere you go, you see people pushing shopping carts full of jumper cables, old shoes missing matches, and pounds upon pounds of sweets, eyes bugged out of their heads, screaming at people, twitching and itching all over. I've been having a nagging thought over the past couple of months that, while that seems less than optimal, I'm kinda at my breaking point. Should I just give up on regular society and run with that society? Or should I finally do what I've been thinking about since I was 15 and just kill myself. I know everyone says life gets better as you get older but I found that hard to believe back then, and I still do today. For now, I haul garbage.

2:49 : moved around as much junk as I could. There's still a couple of couches and a huge mattress by one of the bins but they don't fit in my car and the next empty bin to the one they're next to is about a kilometer away. I still have an hour left at work today so I may drag them over. I may not. Who's to say. I may just hang out. That's the beauty of working at the farthest property from the office. Nobody's gonna say anything! Since I last logged my stuff here, I went out to the D*** road property. It's a lazy Monday, I'm done all my make readys for my move ins next month so I'm not stressed, and I just cleaned up some garbage there. There's a lot less to do over there. One box spring, a couple cardboard boxes, and an old bathtub. All tossed in a bin. I caught one of the cleaners out there and we talked. I'm bad with names, so I can't put it here, even in a redacted form. She's nice though. We just talked about how expensive shit is getting, and how much of a dickhead our boss is. He drives a ferrari. He's a landlord. He's kinda a local villain. He sent me and everyone I work with an email to explain that we wouldn't be able to get in touch with him cause he's skiing in the north pole right now because business is so bad because hamas terrorists killed a bunch of innocent colonizers on the other side of the planet. OK man. I've worked here since the beginning of January and I still haven't seen him. And this is his second vacation of the year. Last was at the south pole. Thoughts and prayers dude, I hope you can crank up rent even higher soon 🙏. During my chat with the cleaning lady my bestie sent me some pics. During high school we were super tight, but their parents moved to Nova Scotia on our last day of grade 11 and they've lived there ever since. But just yesterday they touched down in Alberta for a summer job out in the mountains at some kind of resort. Included in some of the pics they sent me was a trailer park at the foot of some mountains. Doesn't that just seem beautiful? I'm not a man of excess, I'm very very easy to please, I think I could do well in a cheap double-wide with a view. I think I could convince Liv to get out there with me. She's in school right now so it would probably take a year or two. But I've talked about moving all over (even to alberta) so many times this is all just another pipe dream. That being said, best of luck to the homie Llewellyn and all of their future alberta endeavors.

4:00 : leaving work. Didn't do any more cleaning. Just sat around.

4:26 : just got home. Liv stayed home to study for her exams. But she cooked me some Ramen and hot dogs that were ready when i got home. Thank you Liv ❤️. She's watching a YouTube video where some Korean guys bite things in a kitchen, and some of the things they bite may be cake. It's a beautiful warm day out so I put down my tools and stripped butt naked, sat down on the couch, and dug into my food. I think I'm going to play some pokemon quarantine crystal on my phone.

4:54 : changed my mind and changed the TV to something we can watch together. Literally since I made that last entry to now I've been looking for a movie to watch. I settled on hereditary. It took me half an hour to find a movie. I think there's something wrong with my brain

5:15 : Liv wanted to paint so I'm here on da toilet thinking of things to paint

6:29 : I painted a face. I always paint faces. This one came out ugly. That's ok cause plenty of people have ugly faces. I feel ugly so I wanted to make something kinda ugly. I had a beer and now I'm laying in bed. I never nap but I feel like I want one right now. I asked Liv to wake me up in 20 but idk if I'll actually fall asleep at all. Guess we'll see.

6:34 : instagram was always fucking dumb but now it feels extra extra dumb.

8:29 : Liv came in to "wake me up" (I didn't sleep) but she climbed into bed and we held eachother and we had sex. We left bed, she continued painting and I played some Persona 4, which I haven't played in a bit. Good news everyone: Yukiko Amagi is safe!! Me and Liv are going out to get Boba now. Liv's painting is really pretty. A long time ago she painted one really similar to what she's painting now, so this one is kinda an update. A psychedelic bust of a headless pink and yellow lady on a royal blue background. She says she's gonna have flowers busting out of a crack in her chest and her head hole. I can't wait to see how it turns out.

10:04 : it's the end of the day. I took my garbage out and passed my downstairs neighbors in the hall. We said hi. Paper recycling today. I've been slacking on that one. I don't care about recycling, it's just that it tears the regular garbage bags so it's easier to put it in a bin. So it's all outside now. I took a quick shower. I didn't wash my hair because I don't like the way it looks after it's been washed, all poofy and round. I blew my nose in my hand and it was still black from the dust in the unit with the warped drywall. A symbol of a hard day's work. Well, maybe not that hard. Either way, I'm in bed right now. Liv is calling her mom. They're tight. When she hangs up, we'll probably watch some simpsons or seinfeld and fall asleep hugging eachother all soft and warm uwu

[swedesinstockholm]

2 novembre

rêve ultra tendre collée contre r. sur un canapé, on rigolait beaucoup, j'étais plus détendue que je l'ai jamais été dans la vraie vie. j'ai pas fait d'efforts pour m'en rappeler en me réveillant, c'était trop douloureux. hier soir je me suis lavé les dents à côté de j. dans la salle de bain et ça m'a rappelé sa visite à la maison. je voulais lui en parler mais je sais pas pourquoi j'ai rien dit. il me montrait des photos de garçons musclés dégueus et je disais ew ew ew en feuilletant son calendrier d'hommes musclés dans sa chambre sous le grand drapeau arc-en-ciel accroché au dessus de son lit. il m'a dit qu'il avait acheté le calendrier par pur plaisir de pouvoir le faire, pour faire plaisir à bb jonas dans le placard. j'ai dit i think 98% of men don't look good to me et il a dit who looks good then? et j'avais envie de dire r. mais j'ai dit i don't know. j'aurais pu dire girls aussi. je suis tellement dure à m'ouvrir. et pourtant je lui ai parlé de mon soupçon d'hypothétique abus sexuel refoulé. j'ai dit maybe something happened to me as a child. je sais pas ce que les gens s'imaginent quand je dis ça. je lui disais que si j'arrivais à savoir ce qui s'était passé, si j'arrivais à régler mon trauma, j'arriverais peut être enfin à lâcher prise, mais juste après l'avoir dit je me suis rendu compte que je me fourrais probablement le doigt dans l'oeil. peut être que j'ai juste inventé cette histoire de toutes pièces pour trouver une justification à ma peur panique de la vie. mais plein de gens ont une peur panique de la vie et ils ont pas tous été violés dans leur enfance. on parlait de drogues et j. m'a dit you know you could take drugs if you wanted parce que je fais que dire i can't take drugs comme si j'étais la personne la plus traumatisée de la terre et que prendre des drogues allait complètement me détruire/détruire l'ordre de l'univers, mais c'est moi qui ai décidé que je pouvais pas prendre de drogues.

j'entends des cloches qui sonnent midi, j'ai la fenêtre grande ouverte mais je vois pas le ciel. je crois que c'est très néfaste pour la santé mentale de pas voir le ciel. je crois que ça contribue en grande partie à mon désespoir d'être ici. j'entends les grues aussi. les oiseaux pas les machines. j'ai passé toute la semaine sans sortir sauf pour aller faire les courses mercredi. je suis aussi sortie me promener avec j. hier soir à dix heures parce que je me sentais mieux et que je commençais à me sentir trop enfermée. on a marché jusqu'au canal et on est revenus. en mangeant mon porridge je me disais que c'était la deuxième fois en cinq mois que je me brossais les dents à côté d'un garçon très grand après lui avoir dit qu'il m'était "peut être arrivé quelque chose" quand j'étais petite.

je suis sortie aujourd'hui. comme je fais pas les choses à moitié j'ai marché sept kilomètres. j'avais froid aux oreilles mais je voulais pas rentrer. j'ai traversé toutes les parties de kreuzberg que j'aime pas pour aller voir une église brutaliste mais on pouvait pas rentrer, y avait aussi un café de hipsters en béton et un lampadaire jaune fluo ondulé. j'essayais de voir de la beauté dans ma promenade moche, de me dire toute promenade est une promenade digne d'intérêt, mais bof. les amis suédois de j. sont en train de parler fort dans le couloir comme si j'existais pas ou qu'il était pas deux heures du matin.

m. m'a demandé si j'avais pas un petit pincement au coeur quand même de partir. ce qui me pince le coeur: partir avant d'avoir réussi à rentrer dans un bar lesbien (sauf la fois avec la téléréalité lesbienne mais c'était nul) , avant d'avoir réussi à oublier r., avant d'avoir fait un open mic, avant d'être allée dans une rave les seins à l'air les bras musclés, avant d'avoir réussi à lâcher lâcher lâcher ok j'entends le chien d'alex marcher dans le couloir et de la techno de merde ces gens ne dorment donc jamais? j'arrête pas de faire osciller ma date de départ entre le 19 et le 25 novembre, quand je discute avec j. et que je fais la liste de mes pincements au coeur ça penche vers le 25 mais la plupart du temps c'est le 19 qui gagne. comme quand un client des massages tantriques est en train de faire pipi dans la salle de bain alors que je dois moi aussi faire pipi et que je fais un thé dans la cuisine qui est à côté de la salle de massage avec le sentiment que je devrais pas être là. je me demande qui c'est qui va faire des massages tantriques.

cet appart est très imprégné par le sexe. par rapport à la maison où le sexe n'existe pas je veux dire. hier matin pendant que je préparais mon porridge j. me racontait qu'il avait couché avec un mec de grindr non stop pendant deux heures avant d'aller à une fête d'halloween, il m'a demandé si j'avais rien entendu mais dieu merci je l'ai juste entendu mettre le bordel dans la cuisine en rentrant de la fête, ça m'a bien énervée mais c'est moins traumatique. je lui ai demandé s'il avait pris des drogues avant et il a dit oui parce que le mec était bizarre, il avait de l'anxiété sociale et il parlait pas, he just wanted to fuck. parfois je me demande comment j'arrive si bien à vivre sans ce truc qui semble si vital pour les autres. je me demande si c'est lié à ma fondamentale anesthésie vitale (artaud). est-ce que j'ai anesthésié cette partie-là de moi aussi? ça m'arrive d'avoir envie de quelqu'un, mais je fais pas tout ce qui est en mon pouvoir pour que ça arrive. comme m'inscrire sur des applis de rencontre par exemple. j. m'a aussi parlé de son ami tony qui était déguisé en rat sexy à la fête d'halloween, avant tony travaillait dans une banque à lyon et puis il a déménagé à berlin pour devenir une star du porno. il m'a expliqué que son but était de devenir assez connu pour avoir assez de fans sur onlyfans et qu'il puisse ainsi se contenter de coucher avec son copain pour gagner de l'argent. il m'a dit qu'à un moment il avait considéré l'idée de devenir acteur porno lui aussi mais que d. l'en avait dissuadé.

bon à bruxelles je veux aller habiter dans un immeuble avec une moyenne d'âge de minimum 55 ans parce que c'est pas possible là le manque de respect c'est le milieu de la nuit putain pourquoi tout le monde se comporte comme si on était en plein jour? ??? je déteste le rire de d. il caquette. je l'entends caqueter. il caquette il claque les portes et il fait trainer ses claquettes en marchant dans le couloir. et en plus il renifle. j'ai pas envie de vivre avec d. mais ça arrive souvent de pas aimer ses colocs. et alors on fait des concessions, parce que c'est comme ça, pas le choix, il faut bien faire sa vie, c'est toujours mieux que de retourner chez ses parents. qu'est-ce qui tourne pas rond chez moi?

[multifandomfix]

Catherine Cawood Fluff Alphabet

A = Aroma (What do they smell like?)

Catherine always smells like her favorite tea and also a bit of sandalwood.

B = Babe (What would they use as pet names? Do they use them a lot?)

She’d use the occasional pet name, but she doesn’t get all lovey dovey about them.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

She can enjoy a good cuddle if she has a mind to. She doesn’t always make it a priority, but a good cuddle can definitely make a dent in turning a bad day around for her.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? What would they think about living together?)

Catherine is pretty much settled as it is. If having you move in felt like the natural next step to take, she wouldn’t hesitate, but she wouldn’t like you pushing about it.

E = Emotion (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

She’s affectionate in her own way. She’s a little rough around the edges and isn’t big on an abundance of physical affection, but she does take the time to leave you heartfelt notes to find throughout your day.

F = Flirt (How do they flirt? Are they smooth or awkward?)

Her flirting game isn’t as strong as perhaps it once was, but she can still charm the pants off of you if she puts in the effort.

G = Gifts (Are they a gift giver? What kind of gifts do they give?)

Catherine’s gifts are more necessities. She knows you need something, she surprises you and brings it home.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Sometimes, yeah, she does like a good, long hug. And her hugs are amazing. Equal parts soft and strong and they make you feel oh so safe.

I = I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

She’s certainly not going to dive right in to the big declaration of love, but it might come sooner than you think. Once you’ve won her trust, love, at least in some form isn’t far off.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

She can get mighty jealous. It’s easy enough for anyone to notice when she is, and she’s not afraid of inserting herself in the middle of things just to assure her territory is not being treaded upon.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you?)

She loves to kiss the top or side of your head as she’s out the door on her way to work. If she doesn’t do that, you know something is wrong. Her kisses in general are very soft, much softer than you’d imagine.

L = Little ones (How are they around children? Would they want some of their own?)

She’s good with kids, but would never consider herself an expert, even after raising her own two and Ryan. She’s pretty much done with that part of her life and wouldn’t necessarily want more.

M = Meet (How did they meet you?)

At the station, while you were waiting for a family member that was brought in. You were worried about them and Catherine sort of helped calm you down.

N = Nurture (Are they good at taking care of you if you’re hurt/sick?)

She’s not always around to play nursemaid, but she’ll see you’re taken care of and call to check in if she can’t stay with you.

O = Out (What’s a typical date night with them like?)

Maybe some dinner or drinks at the pub. Nothing ever really fancy. She doesn’t see the need for all the fuss.

P = Propose (When do you/they propose? How does the proposal go?)

If it’s coming from her, it’ll be over tea where she’ll just ask, casual as ever, if maybe you wanted to marry her. Bonus points if she can make you spit out your tea. If you propose, you’d practically have to beg her to marry you, even though she doesn’t have to make it so difficult for you. She just wants to know how serious you are about it.

Q = Quirk (What small habit/feature/quirk do they have that you find especially endearing?)

You love those moments when she just has no filter. She says whatever she means and it never fails to bring a smile to your face.

R = Routine (What does a typical day together look like? Routines, schedules, habits?)

Mornings are often chaotic. Your try to have breakfast ready when she wakes up, and you both have to get Ryan ready. Evenings are simpler though. Once Ryan is put to bed, you and Catherine are able to wind down together.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?)

She’s incredibly protective. She’s not obsessive about it or anything, but she is extra vigilant and won’t shy away from using herself as a shield to protect you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, etc?)

She never goes overboard with that sort of thing, but there’s always something nice planned, even if it’s as simple as your favorite meal at home in front of the telly.

U = Unique (What’s something they’d only do for you?)

Take a day off. She needs more time off than she ever seems to allow herself and if you asked her real nice (and probably begged a little) she’d take a day off to stay home with you.

V = Vulnerable (How long does it take them to feel comfortable being vulnerable around you?)

It’ll take her a little bit to really open up. That strong persona needs to be diligently chipped away at to get to the heart of her.

W = Wardrobe (What would they wear to impress you?)

Much to Catherine’s delight, she knows you have a thing for her in uniform, so she doesn’t have to try too hard to impress you in that department.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Catherine loves to tease you. She likes to pretend to pick a fight and see if you can catch her on it. That has occasionally backfired and caused a real fight, but it always gets resolved.

Y = You (What are some things they would like in a partner?)

She’d need someone loyal and brave, not someone who is going to shy away from who she is or try and change her.

Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)

She has some restless nights and nights where she sleeps like the dead with hardly any in between. On the nights she’s really out, she can be a snorer, and you’ve invested in some earplugs for that very reason.

For Anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @ayanthegreat28, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @bitchr-mkay

[rjdent]

Books I've written, translated or contributed to.

[klimtjardin]

O N D A S A Z U I S D E U M I N V E R N O L A R A N J A

Chenle x Leitora

{isso é ficção! enredo: segundo enredo do klimgust - florescer. Aqui pensei em florescer como um romance florescendo!!! a história é sobre um amor descoberto na praia; romance; os personagens não estão em um relacionamento; fluffy}

Se concentrar o suficiente, ainda pode sentir na língua o sabor de picolé de limão que dividiu com Chenle naquele inverno.

É estranho pensar que comiam picolés no inverno, mas ainda mais atípico, o calor tórrido de verão naquela época do ano. Tamanho, que você e seus pais decidiram ir para a praia nas férias de julho. O inverno não mais estava azul para você; agora era laranja como o céu do final de tarde.

Sentados no meio fio e com as nádegas queimando, em frente à vendinha do seu Juca, ouvem o eco do radinho de pilhas enquanto se lambuzam. Você conta para Chenle o quanto queria se apaixonar. Se possível, agora; já.

Chenle é filho de amigos do seus pais. Vocês se veem ocasionalmente desde a infância, nos jantares e churrascos com os outros amigos dos seus pais. Antes, era com quem jogava Uno quando não estava distraindo alguma das crianças nesses mesmos eventos. Antes de se ocuparem com a faculdade e outras perturbações da vida adulta. Embora mesmo sem tempo ele tenha sido gentil com você, te oferecendo palavras e atenção, por mais que rápidas. É a primeira vez em anos que têm tanto tempo juntos um do outro.

São jovens adultos agora, por mais que ainda ingênuos; ainda veem graça em pegar bichos de pelúcia em máquinas e comer picolé na rua. Os velhos até estranham, mas não perguntam.

Você gosta da amizade pacífica que construiu com Chenle. Ele não questiona suas peculiaridades, suas escolhas tortas ou incomuns. Ele ri do que diz e incentiva seus devaneios. Se soubesse o que ele pensa, saberia que ele acha você uma jóia. E que depois de tanto tempo então, ele não se sente sozinho.

— Pena que não é picolé de chá verde — lamenta o rapaz.

Você faz careta e Chenle ri aberto.

— Fecha os olhos e finge — incentiva.

Ele o faz. Aperta os olhos e morde com os dentes da frente, sendo acometido pela alegre nevralgia, ácida e doce, tudo ao mesmo tempo. Gargalham com o repuxo de seus lábios.

— Vamos passar na praia? — você sugere, levantando-se sem esperar.

Chenle vem de atrás ao concordar, terminando de lamber o palito melado.

A praia começa a atrair movimento ao passo em que o sol se espraia preguiçoso rumo ao horizonte. Não há brisa, apenas maresia. O aroma que sempre te lembrou o verão mesmo ao longe, mas agora enfeita o seu inverno: o sal e o suor, os crepes do carrinho mais próximo, o resquício do picolé de limão.

Chenle vem para o seu lado, tomado de um sorriso gatuno.

— Quer entrar? — sugere, indicando o mar.

O protagonista está ali. Tão próximo, tão convidativo. As ondas azuis quebrando e voltando, partindo e trazendo de volta o que antes levaram.

— Chenle... — você adverte.

Mas ele ignora. Te puxa para a maré com riso sapeca, junto consigo. E as suas gargalhadas podem ser ouvidas a metros de distância. Como das crianças que descobrem o mar pela primeira vez. Você empurra Chenle e joga água nele, mas ele sorri para você de volta, como se deleitando no simples gesto. E o sorriso dele brilha; brilha como as pérolas em conchas.

Sentam na areia para as roupas secarem. Chenle ainda não se contém de dar risada. O seu semblante de surpresa alegra a memória, que é curta, ele sabe, mas esta guardará com carinho. Ele bate a areia dos chinelos, tenta disfarçar. Tem algo que quer te dizer e já faz um tempo. Está calado porque vem matutando.

Chuva começa inadvertidamente. Entreolham-se. Já estão encharcados, mas decidem levantar acampamento, pois sabem que ela antecipa uma noite precoce. Então correm. Correm juntos pelas curtas alamedas refazendo o caminho de mais cedo. Disputam quem chegará primeiro, a casa já está a vista e o portão aberto para recebê-los. É quando Chenle te agarra pela cintura, abrupto, enrosca o braço ao seu redor. Pensa que ele estivesse tentando evitar uma queda, de algo que não viu no chão e com certeza te causaria um joelho ralado.

Seu fôlego trepida e para, junto com a chuva. Mas isso é o de menos.

— Antes de entramos, só queria te dizer uma coisa: tenho te amado esse tempo todo em segredo. Mas não posso aguentar, mais uma vez, voltar para casa e ficar remoendo o que eu poderia ter dito.

Você ergue o óculos de sol exagerado de Chenle, descobrindo suas bochechas rubras. Ele está em pânico, por tudo o que disse, por te ver tão de perto. Se não fosse um cavalheiro, neste momento teria te largado e saído correndo para se esconder.

— Chenle... — você repete atônita, admirando seus lábios. Uma palma de cada lado do seu rosto, o tornando ainda mais vermelho se possível. O beija na testa. — Você é um doce.

Ruma de volta para dentro da casa, de onde ouve o burburinho das conversas de seus parentes e o delicioso aroma do jantar a ser servido.

[house-of-lovin]

Omg I’m with you and anon on the AD tour but may I add when they’re showing off the kitchen J sitting on the counter playing with R’s hand while R talks and R saying “we don’t really cook but Jen’s mom does and well.. I kinda wanted her to be happy with the kitchen so this is basically all Jen’s mom’s ideas and I couldn’t be happier with how it turned out” and maybe when they’re in the living room R motions to the camera to come to one of the walls and pushes back a picture/painting and amusingly whispers to the camera that the dent it’s hiding is from one of the first Ortega Family Game nights they hosted and J just blushing and R with the biggest smile thinking about all the good times she’s had since being with J and her family

SHUT UP ANON, kicking my feet in the air (this is gonna be drabble, mark my words)

was also thinking of making drabbles of maybe what's taking place IN BETWEEN chapters (if i feel like there's a story to tell that would make sense)

[magicicephoenix]

So you know how there’s the thing with phones (might just be apple i dunno) where they can scan pictures for words? and then you can copy-paste them?

I wrote a thing at like midnight in a notebook with the most horrendous handwriting, and this is what the scanner picked up on:

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[tenth-sentence]

He had made quite a dent on the beautiful door; he had also, by the way, knocked out the secret mark that he had put there the morning before.

"The Hobbit" - J. R. R. Tolkien