#dicker

[sublecturas]

"El caso Alaska Sanders", de Joël Dicker

[mystica90]

[so-true-overdue]

Climate change isn’t real. Just kidding, of course it is. But let’s not kid ourselves. Humans are definitely behind it.

Here’s a shocker: burning fossil fuels nonstop for centuries doesn’t just make for cool Instagram sunsets. It warms the planet. Who knew? The evidence is everywhere. Glaciers are shrinking faster than a diet soda can fizzles out, sea levels are creeping up like that one annoying co-worker, and weather patterns are getting more unpredictable than a reality TV show plot twist.

But, no, it’s all natural, right? Sure, if you think dumping billions of tons of CO2 into the atmosphere is as natural as a squirrel finding an acorn. Let’s be real. We���ve pumped greenhouse gases into the air, cleared forests, and turned cities into heat islands. And surprise, the planet noticed.

Now, some will say, “But the climate has always changed.” True, but not at this breakneck speed. We’re talking a few decades, not millennia. Our addiction to oil and coal has turbocharged a natural process, like adding rocket fuel to a campfire. It’s not just bad for the planet; it’s bad for us. Think wildfires, hurricanes, and floods. Fun times, right?

Deny it all you want. Facts don’t care about your feelings. Climate change is real, and humans are at the wheel. It’s time to stop bickering and start acting. Because, newsflash: there’s no Planet B.

[primepaginequotidiani]

PRIMA PAGINA La Stampa di Oggi sabato, 10 maggio 2025

[weird-things-to-think]

Discutir sobre el Preis für un bien ou servicio para obter la mejor um acordo.

[churchofnix]

Dicker is to science what a butterfly net is to catching stars. It’s a foolproof method for those who think guesswork and wild speculation are the heart of discovery. Forget evidence and experiments, just argue endlessly and hope the truth shows up. It’s the perfect strategy for anyone tired of facts and logic. Why bother with the rigorous scientific method when you can just wing it? After all, who needs peer review when you have loud opinions?

[faith-in-democracy]

The future of democracy is at stake.

We are in an era where debates often turn into shouting matches. People argue, but they rarely listen. This breakdown in communication is dangerous. It erodes trust and weakens our democracy. We need a solution. That solution is "dicker."

"Dicker" is more than a word. It's a way of life. It means to negotiate, to bargain, to discuss. When we dicker, we engage in a dialogue. We exchange ideas with respect. We listen and we respond thoughtfully. This simple act can transform our political landscape.

Imagine a world where people dicker instead of argue. Politicians discuss policies without resorting to insults. Neighbors with opposing views find common ground. Families talk about politics at the dinner table without tempers flaring. This is not a utopian dream. It is possible, but it requires effort from all of us.

Dicker promotes civility. It reminds us that behind every opinion is a person. A person with experiences, hopes, and fears. When we dicker, we recognize the humanity in others. This builds empathy and understanding. It bridges divides and fosters cooperation.

Dicker also strengthens our faith in democracy. When we see that our voices are heard, we believe in the system. We feel empowered to participate. This active engagement is the lifeblood of democracy. It ensures that the government reflects the will of the people.

To dicker is to hope. It is to believe that dialogue can overcome division. It is to trust that civility can heal our democracy. Let us all embrace this practice. Let us dicker, and in doing so, build a brighter, more united future.

[wurds-fur-nurds]

Echoes of Dicker

In fields where wildflowers sway in time, There lies the art of barter’s chime. A tale of trade, of give and take, Where human hearts their bonds do make.

Beneath the sky, so vast and blue, Two strangers meet, their trust renew. They dicker here, in earnest speech, With hopes and dreams within their reach.

A simple act, a humble start, But deep within, it moves the heart. For in the balance, fair and just, We find the roots of human trust.

Each word exchanged, a gentle grace, Reveals the soul, unveils the face. In give and take, we come to see, The shared threads of humanity.

Oh, how they dicker, side by side, In whispers soft, their worlds collide. A song of life, a dance of fate, Where love and friendship cultivate.

No grand display, no pomp, nor show, Just quiet moments, ebb and flow. For in the act of simple trade, The bonds of fellowship are made.

And when the deal is done at last, The echoes of their meeting cast A light upon this truth so clear: That every heart finds solace here.

So let us dicker, fair and true, With open hearts in all we do. For in the art of give and take, We find the love that we can make.

[capitalism-is-a-psychopathy]

Capitalism’s psychopathy finds its perfect expression in the fine art of dickering—a civilized duel of wits that often masks the inherent madness beneath. Imagine a dance where every step is a calculated move, every smile a feint, and every handshake a silent declaration of war. In this relentless pursuit of profit, the true cost is not measured in dollars but in the erosion of empathy and the triumph of cunning over conscience. It’s a theater where the most ruthless performers are celebrated, and the quiet casualties of this ruthless game fade into the background, unseen and unremembered. Yet, amid the cutthroat negotiations and merciless deals, one cannot help but marvel at the sheer audacity of a system that glorifies its own insanity with a grin and a wink.

[extremely-moderate]

Compromise: The Heartbeat of Democracy

In a world that often feels divided, good-faith political compromise stands as a beacon of hope. This isn’t about surrendering values; it’s about finding common ground to move forward together. When we compromise, we bridge divides and foster understanding.

History shows us the power of compromise. The United States Constitution itself was born from heated debates and significant concessions. Without these, the foundation of the nation would not exist. Good-faith negotiation is the bedrock of progress, allowing us to tackle complex issues like healthcare, climate change, and social justice.

Consider the Civil Rights Movement. While marked by fierce struggles, it achieved milestones through strategic compromises. Leaders like Martin Luther King Jr. understood that incremental gains could build momentum for lasting change. These compromises didn't dilute the movement's goals; they strengthened its impact.

Today, the stakes are high. Political polarization threatens to stall progress. Yet, examples of successful compromises shine through. The bipartisan First Step Act of 2018, aimed at criminal justice reform, is a testament to what can be achieved when both sides work together. It's a reminder that we can find common solutions to pressing issues.

Compromise isn’t about weakness; it’s about wisdom. It requires courage to listen, empathy to understand, and strength to act. It’s about recognizing that we share a common destiny and that the best solutions often lie in the middle ground.

Embracing good-faith compromise means embracing a future where progress is possible, where dialogue replaces discord, and where we move forward, not as adversaries, but as allies in the quest for a better world. Let's make compromise the rule, not the exception, and watch democracy thrive.

[boldlymagnificentperson]

Libri: la classifica di marzo della Zafra

[loveanddeepdick]

christmas gift 🎁

obsessed!geto x reader

cw and notes: lowk doesn't make sense, best friends to kidnapped reader to whatever you two have going on, slight angst, this will not be everyone’s cup of tea, complicated toxic relationship, stalking, toxic behavior, piv sex, YOURE the gift, geto has u locked up lol, hair pulling, spit, asphyxiation, creampie, mentions of past drugging, implied kidnapping, reader is awkward and is still adapting, I'm trying my best to put real emotions and responses into words, not the perfect smut to flick da bean to lol, self indulgent and not proofread

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

all roads were iced over, going from tokyo to the edge of the city, more rural, secluded places. suguru drove his dark suv down winding roads until he came to the gate of his home. dark, metal bars open with a passcode onto the land that was his. his property. and he came home to you. his property.

he rushed out the car, boots crunching in the fresh snow. his hands jumbled with the keys, trying to find the matching silver one to the door—fuck. he didn’t lock it.

‘shit, shit, shit’

he slammed the door open, kicking off his boots to an eerily quiet home. he felt stupid. fuck. what was he thinking? he should’ve put deadbolts on the front door as well. you were probably long gone. your relationship—if you could call it that—had gotten to the point where he let you freely roam around inside the house with his supervision.

no sound of your voice, your feet steps, just the echos of his. he rushed to your room, all the way in the back of his house where he kept you, safe and sound from the outside world. he felt an iron grip on his heart, his stomach falling to his feet as he ran. you probably went down to his neighbor’s, called 911, maybe a young man helped you, you were definitely gone, you—

you?

there you were, in the same pajamas suguru had gently slid you in last night, wearing a little red bow in your hair. his chest heaved, a drop of swear dripping down his forehead, his eyes narrowing on you. you, on the floor, sitting criss-cross with a book in your hands as you leaned against the bed.

deep purple, with a red undertone, some would say it was evil. they bore into you and from where you were sitting on the floor, he looked like a statue. the shadows that were cast from the lamp in the hallway and the window in your shared bedroom made him look ethereal. maybe it was all the weeks that you were kept in captivity. maybe it was all the sleeping drugs he fed you finally catching up to you.

he looked so other-worldly.

suguru held your gaze for a few seconds, his chest heaving from the adrenaline. you were still here? you could've run away, yet you stayed so pliant and good. you wanted to stay, didn't you?

"welcome home, suguru," you blinked up at him, your eyelashes batting so deer-like. you were like a little animal, held in captivity by a scary man, but it was almost ironic how he felt like a deer in headlights.

he broke out of his trance, reaching you in two long strides before dropping to his knees, enveloping you in his slender, lean arms. being embraced by suguru was not like a hug. if anything, it was most similar to being embraced by a thick wall of cold, misty fog. you slowly wrap your hands around his bicep as he takes deep, heavy breaths into the crook of your neck.

"you're here," he huffs out, "my angel"

"uh.. yeah," your eyes wandered the room awkwardly as his giant frame hung over yours, "as always,"

"don't leave."

"i think you established that, suguru"

"don't."

he pulled away from the embrace, still leaving little room between the two of you. his nose was inches away from yours, his skin sickly pale. dark purple eyes, more alluring than ever boring into your face, scanning your features as if he was still trying to process that you were real.

"you miss me or something?" geto huffed out, one hand travelling up to the back of your head, your hair threading through hs fingers. you respond with a curt nod, trying to avoid eye contact. you felt as though you were.. blushing? yet the temperature in the room only continued to drop.

"i did miss you," you murmur, dodging geto's eyes even though his head only followed yours.

"look at me, angel. stop trying to avoid me. there's no escaping me, I told you, didn't i?" geto's grip tightened on your head before releasing again, "I'm sorry. didn't mean to scare you,"

he pulled his hand from the back of your head down to the nape of your neck, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

"s'okay," you bit your lip before looking up at him, "did you eat today?"

he nodded before lowering his gaze to your lips. the air felt cold and heavy. you couldn't even count the days your best friend had locked you in his home. your dynamic had definitely changed, so have the complicated feelings you two had harboured for each other. his head dipped with a deep sigh before he looked back up at you.

"i brought you dinner. it's in the car," suguru got up before pausing, looking back at you and motioning for you to follow.

and with a smile, you followed.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

the fireplace crackled as he flipped through the channels on the tv. he sat on the couch, his legs pointing in different directions as he manspread. it gave you a bit of the ick..

but there you were, cuddled up on suguru's lap, full of the dinner that suguru had brought home, in suguru's house. why were you comfortable on his lap? the same man that had locked you away from society. yet, it was the same man that comforted you on the darkest nights, walked you home from work, bought you snacks when you were sad.

you shook your thoughts away, the conflicting emotions messing with your head. at first, you screamed at him, thrashed against his hold, yet here you were, with your best friend, your captor, your.. what what he to you?

his arm was wrapped around you, the tv droning away in the background as you seemed to disassociate, swaying in his lap as his hand came to rest on your full belly, stroking it gently with his thumb.

"you good?" he hummed, "or are you just tired, hm? your belly must be full, ain't it, angel,"

you swallowed, your eyes roaming back onto his face as you processed what he was saying. from directly below, his face looked gentler, his eyes less daunting, and his thick eyebrows furrowed in worry. he leaned in, planting a kiss on the tip of your nose.

it was weird. his kisses felt weird now. there was a lack of something. you two had kissed before when you were younger. stupid kids, 'practicing' kissing, two drunk adults barely hitting the legal drinking age, kissing while drunk together at a bar.

his hand was cupping your clothed crotch. it wasn't anything sexual, he claimed he just liked the intimacy, the closeness, and the trust you had in him.

he fixed the bow in your hair, his eyes roaming your face slowly. if someone pointed a gun at your head right now, you wouldn't be able to tell them what the hell was playing on tv because all you could focus on was how handsome he looked from this angle. the feeling was potent, poisonous, nauseous, toxic.

his free arm cupped your cheek as he chuckled, "you didn't answer me, angel,"

"oh.. sorry. i'm okay," you breathed out

he hummed in response as you leaned in, capturing his lips. the feeling was indescribable like something had changed in the wiring of your brain, like someone had injected a foreign substance into your blood. your lips moved naturally with his like you were meant for him, made for him.

"wrapped like a nice little present for me, aren't you?" suguru lifted a hand, pulling your hair back to open your lips, glossed and colored for him. it was nasty, how he spit in your mouth, how you knew what every tug, every pull from him meant. you had lost your virginity to him long before he locked you in here. complicated didn't even begin to describe your relationship with him.

you swallowed it, his toxic essence, the warmth sliding down your throat as he nearly grinned. his hand on your crotch traveled lower, his pointer and middle finger poking into the concave where he knew your pussy was. he knew every inch of you, every curve and crevice, and you knew all of him. knew he loved it when you reached up to his adam's apple and brushed it with your thumb, he'd let out a quiet whine, or if you bit down anywhere on his torso, he'd get embarrassingly hard.

"i can feel you getting wet, angel," he murmured, "you want this?"

he waited until you nodded before moving his hand to the waistband of your pajamas, sliding down under your white cotton panties and rubbing at your clit gently. you whined before he leaned in, his cold, chapped lips on yours.

"shh, shh.. be a good girl, c'mere," he carried you, placing you gently down on the couch so your head was resting on the armrest. he caged you under his arms, one hand coming up to stroke your cheek before placing his fingers before your face, lanky pale fingers coated in your slick. he took a long, hard inhale of your scent on his fingers before putting them in his mouth, sucking hard before popping them out.

"stop, suguru, that's so embarrassing," you huffed out, looking away.

"yeah? i bet you're getting wetter, aren't you?" he grinned before pulling your pajamas down, leaving you in your top, your panties, and a bow, "dirty fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

you reached down, palming his crotch as you mewled in want. he sucked his teeth before reaching down, pulling your panties slowly down, watching your slick stick your panties as he peeled them off your pussy,

"shit, merry christmas to us, huh?"

his dick was lanky and pale like him. veiny, with a sensitive head. you felt it prodding against your pussy as he slowly pushed in, hissing as your pussy clenched around his long dick. your hand came up to his throat as he began moving in you with slow, long thrusts. you rubbed his adam's apple gently as he began thrusting harder, his tip reaching your cervix and brushing your cervix. he whined, his hips stuttering.

"do that again, angel, fuck yeah, squeeze it a little,"

the sight was filthy. being split open on your best friend's couch, the same best friend who kidnapped you however long ago, the one you knew inside and out. your pussy dripping all over the couch cushions as his big dick always made you a sloppy mess.

"suguu, i'm close!" you mewl, squeezing his throat a little tighter as he continues pounding your pussy, one of his hands coming down to rub at your clit.

"cum for me, be a good girl, my good girl-fuck, my only good girl,"

he thrust ropes of white, thick cum deep into your pussy, coating your insides with the translucent liquid as it spilled out of your pussy as he pulled out. leaning down, he ignored your yelp as he pushed his cum into you with his tongue, not forgetting to swirl it a bit around your clit before traveling back up to your lips.

he paused, contemplating what to do. you two constantly danced around the gray area of what you considered intimacy. your relationship with him, what were you to him? what was he to you? he gave you a short peck before cleaning you up.

he pulled you back into his lap as he tucked himself away, "i've been meaning to give you this," he mumbled, pulling something out of his pocket. you turned your head to the sound of metal clinking.

a set of keys to his house.

"you want freedom, don't you?" he chuckled, grabbing your hand and placing it in your palm, "it's all yours,"

you were still dizzy from the waves of your orgasm. freedom. how empty it sounded from the mouth of the devil.

[bienenkiste]

Photographed by Dicker & Dane for Vogue Czechoslovakia May 2025

[weird-things-to-think]

So, like, "dicker" is this werd dat means to, um, kinda like argue but not real mad, ya kno? Peeple do it when dey try to buy stuff, like "I want dis for 5 bucks," and the other guy says "no way, 10 bucks," an dey go back and forth. It's kinda fun but also like, ugh, jus agree already! Anyways, dats wat dicker means, I think.

[modelcoutureee]

[candidlywhimsical]

“Neighborhood Watch” Exclusive Online Editorial

Karla Jeanne, Khensani, and Dominique Ava Evans by Dicker & Dane for Vogue Portugal

January 2025