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Quote by Katie Ruggle

“Theo tied off the top of a full garbage bag and then lifted it out of the container without any visible effort. Although the play of his muscles didn’t fascinate Grace as much as if Hugh had been the one flexing, she couldn’t help but watch. A balled-up paper towel hit her on the side of the head, bouncing off harmlessly. Grace turned narrowed eyes on Hugh. “That better have been clean.” “It was. Mostly. Now stop drooling over Theo and pay attention to me.”

Quote by Katie Ruggle

Book:On the Chase
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On the Chase

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Katie Ruggle

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“He waved at a red pickup—one that looked old in a ready-for-the-junkyard way, rather than in a classic-car-show way—parked behind Jules’s SUV. A shepherd-type dog sat in the passenger seat, watching them with huge, pricked ears. “Why?” “No reason.” A rustling sound made her jerk her head around, but it was only the wind making leaves dance across the road. “Uh-huh,” Hugh said, not sounding as if he believed her. “Was someone bothering you in there?” “She wasn’t sure how to answer that. Although she would’ve sworn she heard someone outside her dressing room, she was starting to think that she was imagining things. After all, the past several days would’ve messed with almost anyone’s sanity. Since she didn’t want to consider that she couldn’t trust her own senses, she changed the subject. “What are you doing out here?” “Just…more errands.” For the first time since she’d met him, Hugh didn’t answer with his usual cocky confidence. Instead, his gaze darted to the side as he slid his hands in his pockets, looking like a strangely appealing combination of naughty boy and confident man. He snuck a glance at her, and she raised an eyebrow, making him huff and swing a hand toward the pickup. “My truck’s right there. I had to walk by here to get to it.” “Uh-huh.” She echoed his skeptical sound from earlier. “Do we need to have the stalking-is-bad talk again?” “I’m a cop, not a stalker,” he said with exaggerated patience. “I arrest stalkers.” “Might want to check out your house.” “What?” She smirked. “It’s looking a little see-through and glassy to me.” “What?” “Glass house? Throwing stones?” Lips pursed, he eyed her for several seconds. “You’re not very good at telling jokes.” “I’m an excellent joke teller!” Grace huffed. “Uh-huh.”

GraceHughUh Huh Sure
Book:On the Chase
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“Vimes, listening with his mouth open, wondered why the hell it was that dwarfs believed that they had no religion and no priests. Being a dwarf was a religion. People went into the dark for the good of the clan, and heard things, and were changed, and came back to tell… And then, fifty years ago, a dwarf tinkering in Ankh-Morpork had found that if you put a simple fine mesh over your lantern flame it'd burn blue in the presence of the gas but wouldn't explode. It was a discovery of immense value to the good of dwarfkind and, as so often happens with such discoveries, almost immediately led to a war. "And afterwards there were two kinds of dwarf," said Cheery sadly. "There's the Copperheads, who all use the lamp and the patent gas exploder, and the Schmaltzbergers, who stick to the old ways. Of course we're all dwarfs," she said, "but relations are strained.”

Religion
Book:The Fifth Elephant
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“The more I write openly into the space of sexual sovereignty, the more I hear from humans desperate for a safe space to share. Those who have nowhere to be fully honest and real about the whys and hows and whats and whos of their body and its desire. ⁠ What turns us on? What brings us pleasure? What completely normal and natural variation of human sexuality have we labeled deviant simply because it does not fit within the prescribed heteronormative, vanilla narrative for what we are permitted to experience? Where do we berate ourselves because we like what we like and we want what we want?⁠ It's a fucking shame that we've driven so much into the shadows. It's a travesty that we are forced to squeeze the entire spectrum of desire into such a tightly constructed box. ⁠ You've got 22 square feet of skin covering your holy human body—of course, there's a hell of a lot of different ways to make that skin feel good. ⁠ Coincidentally, 22 square feet is approximately the size of a standard closet door., and we all know a closet is a terrible place to live. When we force people into the closet, we cause harm. We create an experience of othering based on our own discomfort and unwillingness to expand our notions of acceptability.⁠ We NEED to start having way more honest, open, and raw conversations about sex, desire, and kink.⁠ We need to blow the remaining closets to smithereens. ⁠ We need to talk about how to embrace the power of full, enthusiastic consent and expand our sex-positivity and our ability to say 'that's so not for me, but GO YOU and your bad self feeling all that pleasure'. We need to start really thinking about how, as long as we bring no harm to others in the fulfillment of desire, we aren't fucking wrong for the wanting. ⁠ Embrace your queerness or your kink or your fetish in your journal or to your bestie or to an internet stranger. Hell, start by whispering it out loud in an empty room and then breathe the power of that back into your being. ⁠ You are human. You get to want. You get to feel good. Anything else is blasphemy.”

Sex PositivityBody AcceptanceBreaking TaboosConsent And PleasureDeconstructing NormsDesire And PleasureEmbracing KinkLgbtq VisibilityQueer EmpowermentSexual Sovereignty
Author:Jeanette LeBlanc
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