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thatesqcrush · 5 months

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Inaugural Sparks

David (A Murder at the End of the World) x reader.

AN: I know nothing about Raúl’s character so forgive me for any mischaracterizations. I just really wanted to write something for this character and couldn’t wait until the 14th.

Rating: NSFW for 🌶️🌶️

You stood poised in front of a rustic bar, your heart fluttering with the anticipation of your first date with David Alvarez. The autumn air is crisp, causing a soft blush to bloom on your cheeks. You are clad in a cozy, burnt-orange sweaterdress that complements the fall foliage. Your eyes, full of hope and curiosity, are as vibrant as the setting sun. Your fingers nervously played with the cuff of your sleeve, a silent testament to the excitement and uncertainty of the impending encounter. The scent of fallen leaves and the distant sound of laughter from the bar added to the atmosphere of anticipation.

In many ways this was a blind date. But it also wasn’t.

It was a date in the making through mutual friends, Andy Ronson, and his wife Lee, who showed you off to David on his phone and vice versa with him to you. It might have been just a picture, but the attraction was instantaneous.

And this date took weeks in the making thanks to conflicting work schedules. David was an Argentine venture capitalist who happened to be on the top ten Midas list for Forbes. While VCs only invested in 2–3 companies a year, the rest of his time was spent platonically courting entrepreneurs. Suffice it to say, he was loaded. But truthfully, you were well off as well and your work had kept you just as busy.

You and David had been texting and calling for weeks now. Some of the communications were purely innocent, while others were downright filthy. Finally, after so many nights of teasing and eluding, of shared pictures that showed little but promised much more, you were going to be meeting face to face. You had a feeling that this evening held the promise of something special.

You checked the time on your watch before re-applying your lipstick. Then drawing a deep breath in, you made your way into the dimly lit bar, poised, head raised in confidence. As you made your way in, you realized that David was already at the bar. He is sitting, facing the door with one leg hooked through the legs of the stool. He wore a crisp white button down, the top two buttons open, accentuating his tanned skin. There was a glint of a gold chain from the overhead lights. His hair - a distinguished mix of salt and pepper - was perfectly coiffed and accompanied with a neatly trimmed beard.

You could tell he was striving for casualness but there remained a tension in the way he sat, a restlessness you could sense in your gut - as if he preferred to pace and prowl the room while he waited. He exuded sophistication - but there was an air of rugged charm which added to his already distinguished features.

One broad palm cradled a tumbler full of brown liquor. He swirled the drink close to the rim, allowed it to settle and then raised it to his perfectly pink lips. You paused mid-stride, drinking him in. His eyes snapped up, meeting yours and the air cracked with a magnetic pull.

Unbeknownst to you, David had already spotted you outside, bathed in the early evening light, a vision in your sweater dress that clung to your curves in all the right places. He couldn’t believe his luck.

David’s intense gaze held for a moment before he lowered his, dragging along the curves of your dress. His lips twitched in a smile at the hint of skin between the hemline of your dress and the thigh highs that you wore.

You felt desire shoot down your belly, creating a warm pool between your thighs. The smoldering look in his green eyes caused your nipples to harden and pucker against the fabric, eager to show off for him, already seeking his touch. The tip of his tongue emerged to dance along his bottom lip. For a moment, you imagine what it must be like to sink your hands into his beard as you kiss him.

Pictures did not do him justice. He was without a doubt, the most fucking handsome man you had ever had the pleasure of looking at. You take in the width of his broad shoulders, down his chest. You finally continue your journey until you are standing face to face with him.

You get a whiff of spice from his aftershave. Your blood fizzes in response and your pussy is now throbbing in tandem with your heartbeat. More slickness gathers between your thighs and you know he would be pleased when he found out you weren’t wearing any underwear.

He shifted in his seat, causing you to smile. The two of you had not even touched, but you could already tell that he was growing hard, the bulge straining against the zipper of his pants. You ached to have him fill you, fucking you hard as your pussy milked him for all that he was worth.

Pleasantries are exchanged and as you sit next to him, you order a shot of tequila with a lime. David watched you with intense fascination as you slammed the shot back. You bit into the lime, sucking out every last drop of citrus, igniting an electric shock that sent shivers down David’s spine and right to his aching cock.

The night continued over a shared bottle of red wine as you each shared stories about work and life. David mentioned he was planning on attending an upcoming exclusive retreat at Andy’s high-tech hotel, located in the snowiest reaches of Iceland.

But as the evening deepened, so did the connection between the two of you. The chemistry was undeniable, and it only grew as the two of you shared more personal tales, vulnerabilities laid bare.

When the idea of dessert was floated to the two of you by the bartender, you took the opportunity to reach for David’s thigh.

“I am not hungry for dessert.” You felt as if you were almost vibrating with desire.

David’s fingers traced a path along your hand, causing your breath to hitch. “There is something about you that I can’t resist.”

You gave him a victorious smile. You changed to standing and planted yourself in between his legs. You leaned to his ear.

“Finish your drink and pay the man.” You finished with a nip to his ear causing David to groan.

The pupils of his eyes are dilated and you are pleased as punch watching him swallow the remainder of his drink before slamming the glass along the bartop. He reached for his wallet and dropped a hundred dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

Finally, you found yourselves beneath the canopy of bar, waiting for an Uber to arrive. David pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a fiery, passionate kiss. You let out a moan as his tongue licked hotly into your mouth. The world around you both faded away as the two of you surrendered to the intensity of the attraction.

The kiss deepened, and the sparks that had been building all night ignited into a passionate, all-consuming flame.

FIN.

Tags: @beardedbarba @beccabarba @melk917 @madpanda75 @adarafaelbarba @storiesofsvu @dreamlover31 @detective-giggles @plaidbooks @eltrujillo @jenparis

#a murder at the end of the world #murder at the end of the world #a murder at the end of the world fanfic #david alvarez #david alvarez imagine #david alvarez smut #david alvarez fanfic #david alvarez x reader #david alvarez x you #david alvarez and reader #raul esparza #raul esparza fanfic #raul esparza fanfiction

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psalm22-6 · 2 months

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The Exhibitors Herald, June 1926

The first of the deluxe presentations was at the Forrest theatre, Philadelphia, Thursday evening. The audience was composed largely of members of the Advertising Clubs of the World, which was holding an international convention in the Quaker City, and the members of the Poor Richard Club. There were also present a large turnout of society, official and judicial life of Philadelphia. The other audience, which included Mrs. Coolidge, members of the diplomatic corps and Washington newspapermen, as guests of the National Press club, viewed the picture at a special screening Friday night at Poli’s theatre in Washington. General W. W. Atterbury; Senator-elect [and notorious political boss] Wm. S. Vare; Senator [and law professor] George W. Pepper; Lieut. Commander Geo. B. Wilson, U. S. Navy [not to be confused with the character from the Great Gatsby] ; Mrs. Barclay Warburton [civil rights supporter and journalist] ; Major Norman MacLeod; E. T. Stottsbury; Paul Thompson; Alexander Van Rensselaer; Mrs. Charlemagne Tower; Dr. H. J. Tily [department story owner, mason] ; Mr. and Mrs. Theodore W. Reath; Frank Smith; Mr. and Mrs. Jos. N. Snellenburg [merchant in clothing trade] ; Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Block; Mr. and Mrs. Jules E. Mastbaum [movie theater and department store magnates] ; George Nitsche [possibly an affiliate of U. Penn]; Josiah H. Penniman [Provost of U. Penn] ; J. Willis Martin [a judge]; H. S. McDevitt; John J. Monaghan. Judge Buffington, of Pittsburgh; Thos Finletter [could be one of a a number of lawyers with this name]; Mr. and Mrs. A. L. Einstein; Maurice Paillard, French consul; Robt. Von Moschzisker [justice of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania]; Mayor W. Freeland Kendrick; Geo. H. Elliott, director of public safety; Chas. B. Hall, president of City Council; Dr. Charles Hart; Rev. Wm. H. Fineschriber; Chas Fox, district attorney [could be a coincidence but Charles Fox III and IV are both currently lawyers in Pennsylvania]; John Fisler, president Manufacturers Club [golf afficianado]; Albert M. Greenfield [real estate broker and developer]; Jos. P. Gaffney; Mr. and Mrs. Ellis Gimbel [department store owner]; Daniel Gimbel [brother and co-owner along with Ellis]; J. D. Lit; Richard Gimbel [son of Ellis Gimble]; Benedict Gimbel [brother of Ellis and Daniel]; Colonel Robert Glendinning [banker]; Benjamin Golder [member of the Pennsylvania State House of Representatives], Agnew T. Dice [President of Reading Railroad]. Dr. Leon Elmaleh [founder of the Levantine Jews Society of Philadelphia]; H. Gilbert Cassidy [a judge]; Utley E. Crane [author of Business Law for Business Men]; Cyrus H. K. Curtis [magazine publisher]; Chas. S. Caldwell; G. W. Cole; Hampton L. Carson [lawyer, professor, state Attorney general]; A. Lincoln Acker [Philidelphia port collector]; Max Aron [lawyer]; Eugene C. Bonniwell [a judge]; Chas. L. Brown; Edward Groome; Chas. L. Bartlett; Edward Bok [editor of the Ladies Home Journal]; Mr. and Mrs. Geo. H. Lorimer [editor of the Saturday Evening Post]; Edw. Bacon; Chas. Curtis Harrison [a judge]; Samuel S. Eels, Rev. J. J. O’Hara [future Archbishop of Philadelphia], and Bishop Thos. J. Garland, D. D. [Episcopalian bishop]

There were a bunch of Universal employees in attendance too but that's less interesting to me. Let's see who went to the Washington show

Both showings were under the auspices of Ambassador Henri Beragner of France and Marcel Knecht, French publisher and trade representative. Dr. Ferdnand Heurteur, leader of the orchestra of the Paris Opera House, came to the United States to conduct the orchestras at these two showings. Among the distinguished guests at the Washington showing were: Don Juan Riano, Spanish ambassador; Senor and Senora de Mathieu, Chilan ambassador; Raoul Tilmont, secretary, Belgium embassy; G. H. Thompson, second secretary, British embassy; A. J. Pack, British embassy; Eduardo Racedo and Madame Racedo, first secretary, Argentine embassy; Conrado Traverso, Argentine embassy; Dr. and Senora Velarde, Peruvian ambassador; Dr. and Madame Santiago F. Bedoya, secretary, Peruvian embassy; Senor and Senora Tellez, Mexican ambassador; Senor and Senora Castro, secretary, Mexican embassy; Ambassador de Martino, Italy; Colonel Augusto Villa, miltary attache, Italian embassy; Count and Countess Sommati di Mombello, Italian embassy; Signor Leonardo Vitetti, Italian embassy. Baron and Baroness Ago Maltzan, German embassy; Mr. and Madame Matsuidaira, Japanese embassy; Mr. and Madame Gurgel de Amaral, Brazilian embassy; Senor and Senora de Sanchez Aballi, Cuban embassy; Senor Don Jose T. Baron, secretary, Cuban embassy; Brigadier General Georges A. L. Dumont, military attache, French embassy; Mr. Jules Henry, first secretary, French embassy; Major and Madame Georges Thenault, French embassy; Captain and Madame Willm, French embassy; Mr. A. Konow Bojsen, secretary, Danish legation; Mr. and Madame Marc Peter, Swiss ambassador; Mr. Andor de Hertelendy, Hungarian embassay; Senor and Senora Ricardo Jaimes Freyre, Bolivian embassy. Mr. and Mrs. Timothy A. Smiddy, minister, Irish Free State; Mr. and Madame Simoposilis, Minister from Greece; Mr. and Madame Prochnik, Austrian ambassador; Mr. and Madame Charles L. Seya, Latvian embassy; Mahmoud Samy Pasha and Madame Samy Pasha, Egyptian embassy; Mr. Zdenek Fierlinger, Minister from Czechoslovakia; Mr. Simeon Radeff, Bulgarian embassy; Mr. and Madame Jan Ciechanowski, Polish minister; Senor don Manuel Zavala, Nicaragua embassy, and Mr. and Madame Bostrom, Swedish ambassador.

#les miserables #lm 1925 #fans through the ages #the longest fucking list #losing my mind

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rubberizer92 · 8 months

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🔥 Unleashing Argentine Fire! Over 2000 Votes Illuminate OBEY Season 4! 🔥

Gentlemen, a triumphant surge of over 2000 votes sets the stage ablaze for OBEY Season 4! 🗳️ Your unwavering support propels our valiant Top 12 contenders into the spotlight, each sculpted with a dedication that's bigger, buffer, and stronger, a testament to their resolute commitment to fulfill the Voice's command.

Tonight, the crescendo of excitement reaches its peak as the curtains rise, unveiling our captivating Top 12 who stand poised to embody the spectacular theme of "Magic Muscular Mosaics." Draped in meticulously crafted rubber suits, they artistically weave the vibrant colors of the Argentine flag, capturing the nation's essence.

Direct your attention to the riveting presence of Santiago Rojas, our Argentine beacon of dynamism. Hailing from the passionate heart of Buenos Aires, Santiago exudes the magnetic spirit synonymous with Argentina. With fervent conviction, he asserts, "In my rubberized Argentina, every vote fuels our collective fervor. Join me in blazing a trail lit by our shared dreams!"

The stage is set, and the time for action is now! Engage fervently on Instagram and Tumblr, channeling your influence through likes, comments, saves, and shares. Venture into the captivating realm of Instagram stories, igniting the journey of your chosen contender with resounding "Yes" votes. The window of voting remains ajar until Tuesday evening, an opportunity to immerse yourself in the fiery fervor of OBEY Season 4! 🇦🇷💪🔥

OBEYSeason4 #ArgentineFireUnleashed #StrengthInUnity #VoteForSantiagoRojas #DreamsInFullColor #FlagFusionElegance #RubberizedPride

#muscles #rubber #jock #ai generated #sexy #obeyseason4

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hellsitesonlybookclub · 14 days

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Tongues of the moon, Philip Jose Farmer

Broward rose, though he wanted to cling to the floor. Directly below them—or, perhaps, to the side but still underground—a white-hot "tongue" was blasting a narrow tunnel through the rock. Behind it, also hidden within the rock, in a shaft which the vessel must have taken a long time to sink without being detected, was a battlebird. Only a large ship could carry the huge generators required to drive a tongue that would damage a base. A tongue, or snake, as it was sometimes called. A flexible beam of "straightened-out" photons, the ultimate development of the laser.

And when the tongue reached the end of the determined tunnel, then the photons would be "un-sprung". And all the energy crammed into the compressed photons would dissipate.

"Follow me!" said Scone, and he began running.

Broward took a step, halted in amazement, called out, "The suits ... other way!"

Then, he resumed running after Scone. Evidently, the colonel was not concerned about the dome cracking wide open. His only thought was for the bonephone controls.

Broward expected to be cut down under a storm of bullets. But the room was silent except for the groans of some wounded. And the ever-increasing rumble from deep under.

The survivors of the fight were too intent on the menace probing beneath them to pay attention to the two runners—if they saw them.

That is, until Scone bounded through the nearest exit from the dome in a great leap afforded by the Moon's weak gravity. He almost hit his head on the edge of the doorway.

Then, somebody shot at Broward. But his body, too, was flying through the exit, his legs pulled up, and the three bullets passed beneath him and blew holes in the rock wall ahead of him.

Broward slammed into the wall and fell back on the floor. Though half-stunned, he managed to roll past the corner, out of line of fire, into the hallway. He rose, breathing hard, and checked to make sure he had not broken his numbed wrists and hands, which had cushioned much of his impact against the wall. And he was thankful that the tongues needed generators too massive to be compacted into hand weapons. If the Axes had been able to smuggle tonguers into the dome, they could have wiped out every Soviet on the base.

The rumble became louder. The rock beneath his feet shook. The walls quivered like jelly. Then....

Not the ripping upwards of the floor beneath his feet, the ravening blast opening the rock and lashing out at him with sear of fire and blow of air to burn him and crush him against the ceiling at the same time.

From somewhere deep and off to one side was an explosion. The rock swelled. Then, subsided.

Silence.

Only his breathing.

For about six seconds while he thought that the Russian ships stationed outside the base must have located the sunken Axis vessel and destroyed it just before it blew up the base.

From the dome, a hell's concerto of small-gun fire.

Broward ran again, leaping over the twisted and shattered bodies of Russians and Axes. Here the attacking officers had been met by Soviet guards, and the two groups had destroyed each other.

Far down the corridor, Scone's tall body was hurtling along, taking the giant steps only a long-time Lunie could safely handle. He rounded a corner, was gone down a branching corridor.

Broward, following Scone, entered two more branches, and then stopped when he heard the boom of a .45. Two more booms. Silence. Broward cautiously stuck his head around the corner.

He saw two Russian soldiers on the floor, their weapons close to their lifeless hands. Down the hall, Scone was running.

Broward did not understand. He could only surmise that the Russians had been so surprised by Scone that they had fired, or tried to fire, before they recognized the North American uniform. And Scone had shot in self-defense.

But the corridors were well lit with electroluminescent panels. All three should have seen at once that none wore the silver of Argentine or the scarlet and brown of the South Africans. So...?

He did not know. Scone could tell him, but Broward would have trouble catching up with him.

Then, once more, he heard the echoes of a .45 bouncing around the distant corner of the hall.

When Broward rounded the turn as cautiously as he had the previous one, he saw two more dead Russians. And he saw Scone rifling the pockets of the officer of the two.

"Scone!" he shouted so the man would not shoot him, too, in a frenzy. "It's Broward!"

Coming closer, he said, "What're you doing?"

Scone rose from the officer with a thin plastic cylinder about a decimeter long in one hand. With the other hand, he pointed his .45 at Broward's solar plexus.

"I'm going to blow up the controls and the transmitters," he said. "What did you think?"

Choking, Broward said, "You're not working for the Axis?"

He did not believe Scone was. But, in his astonishment, he could only think of that as a reason for Scone's behavior. Despite his accusation about Scone's intentions, he had not really believed the man meant to do more than insure that the controls did not fall into Axis hands.

Scone said, "Those swine! No! I'm just making sure that the Axes will not be able to use the bonephones if they do seize this office. Besides, I have never liked the idea of being under Russian control. These hellish devices...."

Broward pointed at the corpses. "Why?"

"They had their orders," said Scone. "Which were to allow no one into the control room without proper authorization. I didn't want to argue and so put them on their guard. I had to do what was expedient."

Scone glared at Broward, and he said, "Expediency is going to be the rule for this day. No matter who suffers."

Broward said, "You don't have to kill me, too. I am an American. If I could think as coolly as you, I might have done the same thing myself."

He paused, took a deep breath, and said, "Perhaps, you didn't do this on the spur of the moment. Perhaps, you planned this long before. If such a situation as this gave you a chance."

"We haven't time to stand here gabbing," said Scone.

He backed away, his gun and gaze steady on Broward. With his other hand, he felt around until the free end of the thin tube fitted into the depression in the middle of the door. He pressed in on the key, and (the correct sequence of radio frequencies activating the unlocking circuit) the door opened.

Scone motioned for Broward to precede him. Broward entered. Scone came in, and the door closed behind him.

"I thought I should kill you when we were behind the bank," said Scone. "But you weren't—as far as I had been able to determine—a Russian agent. Far from it. And you were, as you said, a fellow American. But...."

Broward looked at the far wall with its array on array of indicator lights, switches, pushbuttons, and slots for admission of coded cards and tapes.

He turned to Scone, and he said, "Time for us to quit being coy. I've known for a long time that you were the chief of a Nationalist underground."

For the first time since Broward had known him, Scone's face cracked wide open.

"What?"

Then, the cracks closed up, the cliff-front was solid again.

"Why didn't you report me. Or are you...?"

"Not of your movement, no," said Broward. "I'm an Athenian. You've heard of us?"

"I know of them," said Scone. "A lunatic fringe. Neither Russ, Chinese, nor Yank. I had suspected that you weren't a very solid Marxist. Why tell me this?"

"I want to talk you out of destroying the controls and the transmitters," said Broward.

"Why?"

"Don't blow them up. Given time, the Russ could build another set. And we'd be under their control again. Don't destroy them. Plant a bomb which can be set off by remote control. The moment they try to use the phones to paralyze us, blow up the transmitters. That might give us time to remove the phones from our skulls with surgery. Or insulate the phones against reception. Or, maybe, strike at the Russkies. If fighting back is what you have in mind. I don't know how far your Nationalism goes."

"That might be better," said Scone, his voice flat, not betraying any enthusiasm for the plan. "Can I depend upon you and your people?"

"I'll be frank. If you intend to try for complete independence of the Russians, you'll have our wholehearted cooperation. Until we are independent."

"And after that—what then?"

"We believe in violence only after all other means have failed. Of course, mental persuasion was useless with the Russians. With fellow Americans, well...."

"How many people do you have at Clavius?"

Broward hesitated, then said, "Four. All absolutely dependable. Under my orders. And you?"

"More than you," said Scone. "You understand that I'm not sharing the command with you? We can't take time out to confer. We need a man who can give orders to be carried out instantly. And my word will be life or death? No argument?"

"No time now for discussions of policy. I can see that. Yes. I place myself and my people under your orders. But what about the other Americans? Some are fanatical Marxists. Some are unknown, X."

"We'll weed out the bad ones," said Scone. "I don't mean by bad the genuine Marxists. I'm one myself. I mean the non-Nationalists. If anyone wants to go to the Russians, we let them go. Or if anybody fights us, they die."

"Couldn't we just continue to keep them prisoners?"

"On the Moon? Where every mouth needs two pairs of hands to keep breathing and eating? Where even one parasite may mean eventual death for all others? No!"

Broward said, "All right. They die. I hope...."

"Hopes are something to be tested," said Scone. "Let's get to work. There should be plenty of components here with which to rig up a control for the bomb. And I have the bomb taped to my belly."

#hellsitesonlybookclub #bookblr #Tongues of the Moon #Philip Jose Farmer

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argentinechili2024 · 1 month

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Changement de cap aujourd’hui

Hier soir, le capitaine a fait une annonce importante. En raison des vents violents et des vagues fortes prévues, notre prochaine destination a été annulée. Nous trouvions cela très étrange, car au moment où il a fait cette annonce, il faisait grand soleil!

Au cours de la nuit, ça s’est gâté. Le lit bougeait tout seul. Ce matin, oh là là!!! Grosses grosses vagues. Il fallait avoir le pied marin pour marcher sans tomber.

Nous avons donc passé la journée de lundi en mer, au lieu de nous rendre à Punta del Este. Nous arriverons une journée plus tôt que prévu à Puerto Madryn en Argentine. Nous y resterons aussi plus longtemps.

J’en ai profité pour aller m’entraîner au gym. Mes deux amis, Susan et Daniel, y étaient déjà. Robert en a profité pour se reposer sur une chaise longue au soleil.

Ce soir, c’est la soirée du capitaine. On ne joue plus le jeu comme avant. Je n’ai apporté qu’une seule robe un peu chic. Ce sera la seule et unique de toute la croisière.

Robert qui se reposait sur notre balcon ce matin.

Assiette de hors d’œuvres servie dans notre chambre tous les jours à 15 h.

Grosses vagues aujourd’hui.

Piscine intérieure pour adultes seulement. Elle était fermée, de même que toutes les autres piscines, en raison des vagues fortes.

Spectacle de ce soir. Camilla Andrade, brésilienne.

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elena-ferrante · 4 months

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2, 12, 20 (for the book ask) 💖

well. this is going to be harder than i've thought because once again i failed to log in half the books i read to goodreads............. i guess i will rely on my shoddy memory......

2. i LOVE rereading- especially in other languages. i reread anna karenina in english during summer (still not my favourite i'm afraid). started the first volume of in search of lost time in english but switched to turkish halfway through because it sounded so stupid in english. next i'm planning to reread all the bronte books during winter (already started villette....... underrated queen)

12. not gonna lie most of the books i read end up disappointing me one way or another (my standards are unfortunately very high). maybe one of norah lange's books (i don't remember the title) but then again that's probably due to me overestimating her appeal (norwegian-argentine writer, glamorous, knows borges etc). i will try her again tbh i love mid century modernists

20. i rarely read the newest releases so nothing is coming to my mind lol. maybe the new ottessa moshfegh? it's definitely me though, she should continue to write disgusting books and piss off everyone in the lit community

#askbox #mwah ily

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laucha-posting · 2 years

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Iconic

(fuente : )

#autistic santos is canon ok #szifron me lo dijo #nunca superar que Santos es la princesa del grupo #los simuladores

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swedesinstockholm · 10 months

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9 juin

j’ai dit dans mes stories que ça y est j’étais prête pour mon one woman show, c’est quand que je pars en tournée? mais vraiment hier soir m’a donné une clé pour cette histoire de performance qui me trotte dans la tête depuis longtemps, je sais un peu plus clairement ce que je veux/peux faire et comment je peux y arriver. en attendant j’ai déjà envie de retourner à bruxelles, j’allais dire rentrer, c’est déjà chez moi. j’ai la clé de chez m. dans ma banane et ça me procure un grand sentiment de satisfaction. même s’il fait trop chaud pour faire des trucs. même si c’est que pour regarder the ultimatum sur le lit de m. toute la journée. au moins je serai pas ici. hier soir la danseuse argentine me disait que sa mère était poétesse et qu’elle avait attendu qu’elle meure pour oser s’y frotter. j’ai dit quelle chance d’avoir eu une mère poète et je lui ai dit que ma mère à moi ne comprenait pas ce que je faisais, que ça l’intéressait même pas en fait, ou alors elle le montre pas. elle m’a demandé ce qu’elle faisait et j’ai dit secrétaire médicale et le côté romanesque de mon cerveau disait en fait c’est cool, ça me donne un côté transfuge de classe sortie de nulle part, non? mais quand même, ça me rend un peu triste. de pas pouvoir partager ça avec elle.

14 juin

de retour dans le train et je commence à m’inquiéter un peu de pas réussir à rencontrer de gens. j’ai peur de les faire fuir avec ma solitude qui pue. dimanche soir en rentrant de la soirée de mon ancien groupe de théâtre j’écrivais avec r. d. en mangeant le dernier morceau de gâteau aux framboises et aux amandes dans la cuisine, on a discuté jusqu’à minuit et demi parce qu’il disait bon je vais me coucher mais il allait jamais se coucher et puis il a fini par me dire bonne nuit et j’ai dit nuit bonne et il a dit ci mer et je suis montée au lit en souriant. tout à l’heure dans la douche j’essayais quand même de me faire redescendre de mon volcan en faisant une liste de barrières de protection à mettre en place: ne pas m’oublier, ne pas me perdre dans la fiction, ne pas m’attendre à ce que tout se passe comme dans mes fantasmes, ne pas concentrer toute mon énergie dans cette histoire, ne pas me laisser engloutir par mon besoin d’amour et d’affection, garder ma dignité, rester légère, ne pas me laisser consumer, ne pas partir en flammes, ne pas oublier le reste du monde.

dimanche soir au théâtre j’ai passé la soirée à discuter avec shariel, on attendait marcelo mais comme il venait pas on est allé boire un thé glacé pas bon de l’autre côté de la rue, on avait plein de choses à se dire sur nos vies pathétiques qui vont nulle part. elle est dépressive comme moi et elle me racontait que chez elle ça monte et ça descend et ça remonte et ça redescend et puis elle m’a demandé chez toi aussi? et j’ai dit que moi j’étais tout en bas pendant très longtemps et maintenant ça fait que monter, mais pour combien de temps? elle se plaignait d’avoir 38 ans et de rien avoir fait de sa vie, alors je lui ai dit mais au moins tu vis pas avec ta mère et elle m’a dit but i live with my husband! je lui ai dit de se remettre à écrire, parce qu’elle disait que c’était la seule chose qu’elle savait bien faire. et elle a déjà publié des recueils de nouvelles, contrairement à moi. quand marcelo nous a enfin rejoint elle a dit qu’on devrait monter une pièce ensemble mais quand il nous a parlé de son idée d’histoire avec une bonne et sa maitresse et son mari qui est retrouvé mort j’ai commencé à me dire ohlala non merci. je veux bien traîner avec eux dans un but non artistique par contre. je leur ai dit que je partais m’installer à bruxelles mais je les ai rassurés en disant que ça faisait dix ans que je disais que j’allais partir. apparemment à la fête de noël du premier trimestre j’avais dit à alexandra que je partais vivre à berlin. pourquoi j’ai dit ça? je sais plus. j’ai jamais eu autant d’amis dans ce pays de merde et maintenant que tout le monde veut me voir qu’est-ce que je fais je m’en vais dans un autre pays où je connais personne et où personne veut me voir.

15 juin

ça y est j’ai vu r. et tout va bien, sauf que j’aurais aimé le voir plus longtemps que trente secondes et que j’ai déjà envie de le revoir. je viens de voir une affiche collée derrière le kiosque en bois du parc qui disait courage: having the strength to overcome your fears et c’est exactement ce que je viens de faire, j’ai pris mon courage à deux mains et à deux pieds, deux mains pour demander à r. si je pouvais venir au concert de fin de master de son amie musicienne au musée d’instruments de musique, et puis deux pieds pour sortir de chez m. et y aller. j’avais un peu peur de taper l’incruste parce qu’il devait y avoir que les amis et la famille et les profs mais tant pis, j’ai décidé de vivre dangereusement. je suis montée au cinquième étage du musée art déco dans un vieil ascenseur en bois vitré avec un type barbu qui allait au concert lui aussi et une fille très belle avec un sourire très gentil qui m’a rassurée nous a fait rentrer dans la salle et j’ai vu r. sur la scène avec sa guitare en train de faire les réglages. il parlait anglais avec un accent français avec le type qui s’occupait du son. il m’a vue assez rapidement et on s’est fait coucou avec la main. à un moment pendant le concert il m’a regardée pendant qu’il jouait et j’ai senti le bas de mon corps s’évaporer sous moi, j’ai pas tout à fait vomi du vagin comme le jour de mon faux date avec laura a. mais presque, et je rigolais toute seule parce que c’était littéralement sur la même place que ça m’était arrivé la dernière fois dans le bus, la place des musées est désormais doublement baptisée par mon désir ardent mais ardent mouillé, mon désir inondant plutôt.

j’avais pas du tout envie que le concert finisse parce que 1. c’était vraiment bien, à un moment ça m’a même plongée dans une petite transe euphorique, la pianiste (qui s’appelait lara) jouait un truc très beau un peu répétitif et puis les autres musicien.nes ont commencé à jouer par dessus, mais elle continuait à jouer la même chose dessous, les mêmes notes répétitives qui n’allaient pas trop avec le reste, mais elle tenait bon, elle continuait, et ça m’a complètement renversée. et puis les moments où elle jouait accompagnée de r. à la guitare, magie magie, c’est trop facile, les musicien.nes ont trop d’avantages sur le commun des mortels. 2. je mourais de peur. il est venu me voir assez vite et le bonjour redouté (hug? bise belge?) s’est bien passé et il connaissait tout le monde évidemment donc pas le meilleur moment pour m’attarder, il m’a dit qu’il gardait sa fille jusqu’à demain mais qu’après il était libre et il m’a proposé d’aller à une soirée de perfs samedi soir et puis il a dit enfin je sais pas si t’as un emploi du temps chargé et j’ai mis toutes mes barrières de protection à la poubelle non je suis là pour TOI r. (j’ai pas dit ça) et puis il m’a dit à vendredi et je suis partie en continuant à tripoter la lanière de ma banane qui pendait entre mes seins et j’ai dévalé les escaliers en bois qui craque, gonflée à l’adrénaline.

#stuff

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thomas-querqy · 3 months

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Et si Hitler n’était pas mort ?

Dans la maison qu’il a achetée sur la côte du Finistère, Paulo a trouvé une centaine de romans de guerre chez un éditeur appelé Gerfaut et dont le logo est un faucon aux ailes déployées. Il en a conservé une dizaine. Parmi eux, un titre a retenu mon attention : « Et si Hitler n’était pas mort ? » écrit par un certain Kurt Gerwitz et publié en 1979.

Le récit uchronique m’a instantanément attiré, mais aussi le côté potentiellement sulfureux, du genre pro-nazi, mâtiné d’un peu de cul bien macho, voire un peu tordu. En outre, comme je l’ai trainé avec moi au cas où l’on trouverait le temps de bouquiner un peu dans un café cosy, je me suis beaucoup amusé avec l’effroi de mes compagnons, terrorisés à l’idée que quelqu’un puisse lire sa couverture.

En fait, je ne leur ai pas fait peur longtemps car ça se lit très vite. Pour le côté sulfureux, c’était raté. D’abord le bouquin n’est nullement pro-nazi, pour le cul, le plus "scandaleux" est une rouste que donne Himmler à une prostituée, qui avant de connaître la suite, pousse « des gloussements sonores »,« rose de plaisir d’avoir été distinguée par un personnage aussi puissant que le Reichsführer », ce qui est assez conforme à l’idée que je me faisais de ce malade et de sa sexualité.

S’il s’agit de la même maison d’édition, les éditions du Gerfaut existe toujours, et publie de nos jours des livres bien innocents autour de la chasse, pêche, nature et cuisine.

Kurt Gerwitz, de son vrai nom, Jean-Hubert Guffens, était nullement allemand, comme aucun des auteurs de la collection qui sont des pseudonymes. Il mourut l’année de (r��)édition du roman.

Au final, le livre répond probablement à la curiosité de pouvoir se trouver du côté du Mal, celui du lamentable Hitler de la Chute et de ses proches, tous plus fêlés les uns que les autres, et le frisson de retrouver dans la dernière page du livre, Hitler revigoré face à Péron en Argentine.

#livres #roman populaire #uchronie #gerfaut #Kurt Gerwitz

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une-touille-en-vadrouille · 4 months

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Adieux à Patochimbo

La première fois que je t'ai conduit, dans Santiago

J'ai cru que j'étais encore dans les rues de Paris.

La dernière fois que je t'ai conduit, dans Santiago,

Je ne voulais plus quitter ni toi, ni le Chili.

Comme un enfant, il fallait t'aider à faire ton (notre) lit,

T'habiller le matin, et aussi te nourrir d'essence .

Mais sur dix mille kilomètres et deux pays

On peut dire que tu as tenu la distance.

Dans les vents du désert argentin et de la Patagonie

Tu n'es jamais tombé, restant droit comme un i.

Aucun trou, aucune piste, aucun pont ne t'a fait peur;

De tous les obstacles tu es sorti vainqueur.

Sur tes sièges nous avons parcouru la ruta 40

Et la Careterra Austral , souvent à quarante.

Durant ces longs trajets, ta radio nous divertissait

Alors qu'émeux, moutons et guanacos défilaient.

Tu étais aussi un van émotif, et par tes fenêtres

Il t'arrivait de verser des larmes de pluie

Que nous écopions vite à l'aide de serviettes

Pour ne pas avoir à pleurer nous aussi.

Par-delà la Terre, tu as franchi les flots

Bravant de terribles tempêtes en bateau.

A l'arrivée tu étais mouillé mais en vie

Démontrant ta nature de van amphibie.

Parfois tu ne démarrais pas, faute de batterie.

Un jour, la défibrillation a fait court-circuit

Et la dépanneuse au garage t'a conduit.

Il fallait la changer, Tintin l'avait bien dit.

Ton sol était dur et rugueux, mais en te quittant

Ce n'est pas au dos que j'ai mal, mais bien au cœur.

Cher patochimbo, nos routes vont aujourd'hui en se séparant

Je te souhaite avec d'autres autant de bonheur.

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wearelatinamericanrockers · 5 months

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Enanitos Verdes or Green dwarves is an Argentine Rock Band started in 1979 and still running today.

They began playing at first in clubs and bars in their city and Cuyo, later they traveled to Buenos Aires to look for greater opportunities. In 1984 they were invited to the Festival de la Falda and chosen as the revelation group at the event. Later that year they recorded their first self-titled album and achieved greater recognition with the song "I still sing." Although the following year Embrioni left the band to join Alcohol Ethilo. The group continued recording albums as a quartet such as Contrarreloj (1986), Habitaciones Extranas (1987) and Carrousel (1988), all of them produced by musician Andrés Calamaro. They are invited to the 1988 Viña del Mar Festival where they are awarded a silver torch. After Enanitos Verdes published their album "Había una vez…" they announced their separation, according to the members to have a break and carry out solo projects such as Cantero who launched as a soloist.

They returned in 1992. Their most famous songs are "Tu carcel", "Lamento Boliviano" and "Luz De Día".

Charly García is a Argentinian rock musician and got his start in his teenage ages as he started Sui Generis with his classmate Nito in the 70s.

he would go on to make another group in his adult years called PorSuiGieco and La Máquina de Hacer Pájaros, it jumpstarted rock in latin america, they didn't last long and he would have a pause to go to Brazil, come to argentina back to start Serú Girán and become one of the most successful bands from the 70s, he then went on to have a solo career after that

his most famous songs are "Tu amor" "Fanky" And "Influencia" below is fan submitted propaganda

"Es un demente, se tiró de un noveno piso, es anarquista, mostró el culo en un recital, tiene vitiligo y le hace el bigote blanco y negro, bardeaba siempre a los milicos, es un hombre trola, he has it all"

"NO PUEDE NO TENER A CHARLY GARCIA. bowie latinoamericano antes de que existiera bowie. sobrevivió un piscinazo. que sería de la música de nuestro continente sin el!!!!!"

"Ícono del rock argentino, escribió poesía incomparable + es re buena fuente de memes. Lit qué mas querés"

"Bigote multicolor, decirle a la policía “no es mi culpa que usted no haya estudiado”, tirarse de un 8vo (?) piso a una pileta en Mendoza, autointernarse, su flirteo con Susana Giménez, tantos otros momentos, ser el músico más influencias del rock and roll Latino. SE PUEDE PEDIR MÁS? SAY NO MORE."

#los enanitos verdes #enanitos verdes #charly garcia #charly garcía #Latino rock tournament #round 3 #polls #latino rock

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gunelle · 5 months

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Photos and texts: @craig.holloway

1-. A rainbow over Selfoss in North East Iceland

2-. A ruined jetty in the town of Puerto Natales in Chilean Patagonia

3-. Acueducto Segovia

4-. All that remains of an old jetty on Lake Wakatipu, half way between Queenstown and Glenorchy, South Island, New Zealand

5-. An abandoned farm near Hofn, East Iceland

6-. An abandoned house on the Snaefellsnes Peninsula, Wester Iceland

7-. y 8-. Australia

9-. Cathedral Rock at Mt. Buffalo. Victoria, Australia. As sunset was approaching, the rock was enveloped with a fast moving cloud, giving only fleeting moments of visibility such as this one.

10-. Cerro Fitz Roy just after sunrise, standing behind a frozen tarn on an icy cold morning in Los Glaciares National Park, Argentine Patagonia.

11-. Cerro Fitz Roy. Argentine Patagonia

12-. Cradle Mountain reflected in Dove Lake at sunset. Tasmania, Australia

13-. Cuernos del Paine and Paine Grande sitting behind Lago Pehoe, Torres del Paine National Park in Chilean Patagonia

14-. Dawn at Laguna Torre in Los Glaciares National Park. Argentinean Patagonia. The red glow of first light is starting to strike Cerro Torre in the background

15-. Europe's most powerful waterfall, Dettifoss, as seen at sunrise in Northern Iceland

16-. Kirkjufell on the Snaefellsnes Peninsula in Western Iceland at sunset

17-. New Zealand

18-. Sun reflects onto the rock giving it a stunning glow. Australia

19-. The Church of the Good Shepherd at Lake Tekapo. South Island, New Zealand

20-. The Cuernos del Paine are lit by a pre-sunrise glow, as seen from the rapids near Salto Grande, Torres del Paine National Park, Chilean Patagonia

21-. A calm winter morning at Lake Wanaka, New Zealand

22-. A colourful lenticular cloud sunset near Refugio Paine Grande in the Torres del Paine National Park

#photohgraphy #paisajes #Australia #world

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tdjrwc2023 · 6 months

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57. J+36 quater : Les All-Blacks défieront les Argentins

Match en soirée devant la TV mais en extérieur autour de liquide houblonné et de tapas. Des Anglais supportant discrètement l'équipe au trèfle vert, des Gallois éteints, abasourdis et des Français (nous) poussant derrière les All-Blacks.

Manzana, Amaretto, Jet27, Poire Williams, champagne, etc. avec modération et dans un esprit de partage avec nos voisines et tous au lit à 23h45 ! Merci à Yann et au patron de la Savonnerie pour l'organisation de cette soirée. Sortie de route ? Non, pas du tout.

La Nouvelle-Zélande renaîtrait-elle de ses cendres ? Sans aucun doute, OUI. Pas géniale, juste solide et efficace à l'instar de l'équipe TDJ2023 !

Écossais, Italiens, Gallois, Irlandais au tapis : à qui le tour demain ?

Bonne nuit à tous.

#rugby #france #rwc2023 #allez les bleus #rugbyworldcupfrance2023 #ubbrugby #nefaisonsxv #marseillemetropole #allblacks #irishrugby

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sports-100-buzz · 6 months

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Le trio Maroc-Portugal-Espagne va organiser la coupe du monde 2030 (FIFA). Le Conseil de la FIFA a retenu à l’unanimité la candidature commune du Maroc, du Portugal et de l’Espagne pour l’organisation de la Coupe du monde 2030, a-t-on appris. Le trio Maroc-Portugal-Espagne va organiser la coupe du monde 2030 (FIFA) « Le Conseil de la FIFA a également convenu à l’unanimité que la seule candidature à l’organisation de la Coupe du Monde de la FIFA 2030 serait la candidature conjointe du Maroc, du Portugal et de l’Espagne », a annoncé le président de la FIFA dans un communiqué rendu public, mercredi. Ces trois équipes sont automatiquement qualifiées pour cette édition de 2030. »Cette décision du Conseil de la FIFA salue et reconnaît la place de choix du Maroc dans le concert des grandes nations », lit-on dans un communiqué du Cabinet Royal du Maroc reçu à l’APS. Multiplex 2eme journée Ligue Des Champions Porto - Barcelone, Newcastle - PSG, Dortmund - Milan, Leipzig - City 0 →A lire aussi Ronaldinho: Le magicien du football grâce à son talent unique et à son charisme Selon la même source, le Roi Mohamed VI félicite l’Espagne, et le Portugal, tout en réitérant »l’engagement du Maroc à travailler en parfaite synergie avec les instances en charge du dossier dans chacun des pays hôtes ». Le Conseil de la FIFA a en outre convenu à l’unanimité d’organiser une cérémonie de célébration du centenaire de la coupe du monde à Montevideo, la capitale de l’Uruguay où s’était tenu la première édition en 1930. « Dans un monde divisé, la FIFA et le football s’unissent », a déclaré le président de la FIFA, Gianni Infantino. Coupe du monde sourds – muets Suivez les tirs au but entre le Sénégal et l’Ukraine (vidéo) »Le Conseil de la FIFA a décidé à l’unanimité de célébrer de la manière la plus appropriée le centenaire de la Coupe du monde de la FIFA, dont la première édition s’est déroulée en Uruguay en 1930. En conséquence, une célébration aura lieu en Amérique du Sud et trois pays d’Amérique du Sud – l’Uruguay, l’Argentine et le Paraguay organiseront chacun un match de la Coupe du Monde de la FIFA 2030’’, a dit Infantino. Selon lui, ‘’le premier de ces trois matchs se jouera dans le mythique Estádio Centenário de Montevideo, précisément pour célébrer le centenaire de la Coupe du monde de la FIFA’’. Le trio Maroc-Portugal-Espagne va organiser la coupe du monde 2030 (FIFA) →A lire aussi ️⚽️ Trophée FIFA The Best 2023 : Le nom du vainqueur a déjà fuité, une surprise ? A propos de la coupe du monde 2030, Infantino a déclaré: »Deux continents – l’Afrique et l’Europe – unis non seulement dans une célébration du football, mais aussi en assurant une cohésion sociale et culturelle unique. Quel beau message de paix, de tolérance et d’inclusion ». Il estime que la Coupe du monde 2030 aura ‘’une empreinte mondiale unique’’ puis qu’elle réunira trois continents (Afrique, Europe et Amérique du Sud) et six pays (Argentine, Maroc, Paraguay, Portugal, Espagne et Uruguay) qui vont ‘’accueillir et unir le monde tout en célébrant ensemble le beau jeu’’.

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wikiuntamed · 7 months

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On this day in Wikipedia: Sunday, 17th September

Welcome, Velkommen, Dzień dobry, Bienvenida 🤗 What does @Wikipedia say about 17th September through the years 🏛️📜🗓️?

17th September 2022 🗓️ : Death - Maarten Schmidt Maarten Schmidt, Dutch astronomer (b. 1929) "Maarten Schmidt (28 December 1929 – 17 September 2022) was a Dutch-born American astronomer who first measured the distances of quasars. He was the first astronomer to identify a quasar, and so was pictured on the March cover of Time magazine in 1966. ..."

Image by Unknown authorUnknown author

17th September 2018 🗓️ : Event - Israeli Air Force The Israeli Air Force conducted missile strikes that hit multiple targets in western Syria, including one that accidentally downed a Russian plane. "The Israeli Air Force (IAF; Hebrew: זְרוֹעַ הָאֲוִיר וְהֶחָלָל, romanized: Zroa HaAvir VeHahalal, lit. 'tl', "Air and Space Arm", commonly known as חֵיל הָאֲוִיר‎, Kheil HaAvir, "Air Corps") operates as the aerial warfare branch of the Israel Defense Forces. It was founded on May 28, 1948, shortly..."

Image by

Original:

Fry1989

Vector:

Mintz l

17th September 2013 🗓️ : Event - Grand Theft Auto V Grand Theft Auto V earns more than half a billion dollars on its first day of release. "Grand Theft Auto V is a 2013 action-adventure game developed by Rockstar North and published by Rockstar Games. It is the seventh main entry in the Grand Theft Auto series, following 2008's Grand Theft Auto IV, and the fifteenth instalment overall. Set within the fictional state of San Andreas,..."

17th September 1973 🗓️ : Birth - Diego Albanese Diego Albanese, Argentine rugby player "Diego Luis Albanese (born September 17, 1973) is an Argentine retired rugby union player who played as a winger. He played for the San Isidro Club in Argentina, French side Grenoble, Gloucester and Leeds Tykes. Albanese made 17 appearances for Gloucester scoring three tries. He has won 55 caps for..."

17th September 1923 🗓️ : Birth - Hank Williams Hank Williams, American singer-songwriter and guitarist (d. 1953) "Hiram "Hank" Williams (September 17, 1923 – January 1, 1953) was an American singer-songwriter. He is regarded as one of the most significant and influential American singers and songwriters of the 20th century. Williams recorded 55 singles that reached the top 10 of the Billboard Country & Western..."

Image by WSM radio

17th September 1821 🗓️ : Birth - Arthur Saint-Léon Arthur Saint-Léon, French choreographer (d. 1870) "Arthur Saint-Léon (17 September 1821, in Paris – 2 September 1870) was the Maître de Ballet of St. Petersburg Imperial Ballet from 1859 until 1869 and is famous for creating the choreography of the ballet Coppélia. ..."

Image by B. Braquehais

17th September 🗓️ : Holiday - Christian feast day: Zygmunt Szczęsny Feliński "Zygmunt Szczęsny Feliński (1 November 1822 in Voiutyn, now Ukraine – 17 September 1895 in Kraków) was a professor of the Saint Petersburg Roman Catholic Theological Academy, Archbishop of Warsaw in 1862-1883 (exiled by Tsar Alexander II to Yaroslavl for 20 years),and founder of the Franciscan..."

Image by Podolski, Ignacy (1854-1888)

#OnThisDayInWikiHistory #WikiUntamed #WikiWonders #WikiWandering

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