#bill nunnery

[mariocki]

The Prowler (Rosemary's Killer, 1981)

"I heard something."

"It's probably just the wind."

"In the basement?"

#the prowler #Rosemary's killer #horror imagery tw #video nasty #slasher film #1981 #joseph zito #tom savini #glenn leopold #neal barbera #vicky dawson #christopher goutman #farley granger #lawrence tierney #cindy weintraub #lisa dunsheath #david sederholm #bill nunnery #thom bray #diane rode #bryan englund #donna davis #carleton carpenter #joy glaccum #completely generic slasher that is nevertheless executed (ha) with such competence and such precision that it's hugely enjoyable #there's nothing remotely surprising or very different here (although linking the killer to ww2 rather than Vietnam is intriguing) and it #hits every major beat of the genre head on‚ right down to the title. but it's good! it's sloppy and violent and has jumps in all the right #places. Savini's effects work is as ever remarkable‚ the identity of the killer teased fairly well with some early subtle clues‚ there's a #good cast of characters and some nicely creepy set pieces. yknow. it isn't incredible or anything but absolutely a solid slasher

[ghouljams]

In which Cowboy!Soap is seized by the fatal American need to have a pretty good time. Or, Soap is really pretty and the nuns remember they haven't taken any vows against looking.

"County executioner, you book 'em we cook 'em." You sound so bored when you say it, Soap can't help the way he laughs, big and boisterous. You frown at your cell and hang up, setting it to the side as you stare at the numbers for the month. A half second later it rings again. You sigh and pick it up, "Big Bill's Car-B-Q, you road kill it, we road grill it."

"How many of those you got, bonnie?" He sounds like he's smiling, just barely tamping the laughter down. You glance at the unknown number on your screen.

"Who is this?"

"John MacTavish, Goose gave me yer number."

"How can I help you Johnny?" Oh, he loves the way you say his name. You could call him whatever you wanted and he'd come running.

"I hear you've got fireworks." You hum, and he wonders if that was the wrong way to ask.

“What are you looking for?” You ask finally.

“Biggest you got.”

“I’ve got some flour and gas, you want that?” He can’t tell if your inflection is flat because of the conversation or if that’s just how you talk. You’re clearly not interested in him, which means you’re smart. Which really makes him want you all the more.

“Why’d I want that?”

“Redneck C- Y’know what nevermind.” He can hear you tapping at something through the phone, both of you silent as you think. “Why don’t you come down to the house,” You tell him.

“The nunnery?”

“If you want to call it that.” You smile a little despite yourself, his accent is cute. “Lemme text you the directions, come by any time.”

A smart and reasonable man would wait a few minutes after receiving directions to leave. Soap grabs his keys as soon as you hang up. He doesn’t even wait to see if you text him before he’s in the truck.

-

You blink up at the man in your doorway as he smiles down at you. You weren’t expecting him so soon, it’s not even noon yet doesn’t he have anything better to do?

“You must really want fireworks,” You say, because you truly can’t think of anything but the way his eyes sparkle.

“Something like that,” he says, "can I come in?" You nod and stand to the side to let him shoulder past you, inhaling deeply as he does. He smells good, not that you… notice(clean linen and something cinnamon you think) and fills the whole doorway even as you press back against the jam to let him in.

"So what are you in the market for?" You ask, leading him through the house, "We've got a little bit of everything."

"Anythin' big, loud, and sparkly," Soap says, sliding up to walk next to you. You nod, thinking through your current inventory of less than legal goods. You glance up at your guest, he's got his head on a swivel, peaking in the various rooms of the old farmhouse. He glances down at you and you look away, conscious you've been staring too long.

"Um, they're out back. Can't keep them in the house or-" you mumble, trying to think of anything but his fucking pretty this guy is.

"Never seen a nun's hair before," he cuts you off, fingers petting over your head. You smack your hand against his touch, and he pulls it away quickly. You forgot your habit. You're not even a real nun pointing it out should make you duck your gaze away from him and blush.

"Goose called you Soap," you change the topic with the grace of a tap dancing elephant.

"Ach, she's nae but haverin'." He shakes his head, you aren't going to try and parse that. "It's a nickname." That you understand.

"I'm guessing you clean up nice?" You unlatch the back door, swinging the screen open.

"Something like that," he hums, reaching past you to hold the door open as you walk through. "You can call me Johnny."

You sort of like the way he says that, like it's a name just for you. Though you're sure he must have plenty of people calling him that. Much more reasonable than "Soap."

Soap isn't really sure what he's expecting when you unlatch a little white storage shed behind the house. You open it with such little fanfare that he would think it was just a tool shed except for the neat shelves of colorful explosives. He gives a low whistle, looking around. He hasn’t seen this much fire power since he left special forces. The fact that half of these things are proudly boasting names like “the mother in law” and “alligator rodeo” only adds to the absolute absurdity of nuns selling this stuff.

You lean against the doorway watching Johnny pick up cakes and mortars like a kid in a candy store. His distraction is your gain. You let your eyes roam over his back as he reaches for the bombette on the top shelf, almost envious of the explosives he’s holding to his chest. He’s got a good walk. You rest your head against the door, arms crossed to keep from getting fidgety. Yeah, that’s what it is, his walk. Confident, assured, military you think. It would explain the hair.

You snap your eyes from his thighs to his face in time for him to turn to you with an expensive amount of firecrackers. You’re probably going to have to limit his purchase. Goose’ll come after you if his fireworks catch on something.

You pull the fold-away table down from the door for him to set his goodies on. Tallying everything mentally as he pats his pockets for his wallet. He groans loudly.

“Left ma cash at the farm,” Johnny drags a hand down his face, glancing past you before starting to walk, “I’ll be back.” You grab his arm, and try not to marvel at- wow actually how much can this guy lift, that is one firm bicep.

“We could use some help in the garden,” You say quickly, “if you can spare some time, I’d trade you.”

-

It is hot as the devil out, and he is sweating like a sinner in church.

When you'd said garden Soap had thought you meant flowers, maybe some weeding, maybe a few little veggies. This is a whole farm. You're not even helping.

There are a few other nuns out in the "garden" collecting fruits and vegetables from the neatly laid crop rows. He's gotta admit, they all seem a little young to be nuns, far flung from the mean old women he'd expect. Also he's pretty sure he's caught all of them staring more often than is proper for a woman of faith. There was even the loud snap of a phone camera lens when he stripped his shirt off. If that's not an ego boost he doesn't know what is.

You stop at the edge of the vegetable patch, and join the obvious stares the rest of your roommates are fixing on John MacTavish. He is absolutely glowing with sweat, and you are transfixed by the way his muscles move as he works. You're not the pious woman you pretend to be by any stretch of the imagination, but he almost makes you believe in God. Hell if he was in church every sunday you might find yourself on your knees. You notice your tray slipping before everything falls to the ground and try to get your head on enough to tell him it's break time.

Johnny notices you first, his smile as bright as the sun as he sits back on his heels. He scrubs his face with his discarded shirt and loops it over his shoulders as he stands. Does he have to look at you like that? Like he's just so pleased to see you. It's almost pornographic, you think he might be doing it on purpose.

"What's this?" He asks, leaning to inspect your tray. You're sure he's just asking for something to say. You're… not really in a position to say anything right now, your tongue feels like it's stuck in place trying to make sure you're not drooling over him.

"Tea," you say dumbly, he raises a brow at you, "And I've got lunch inside, if you're hungry, but hydrate first."

Soap shrugs, his fingers wrapping around the tall iced glass. There's dirt under his nails, clinging to the sweat on his hands, you think he's more than paid for the fireworks by now. You're not sure the rest of your roommates are willing to give up their eye candy just yet.

He tips his head back for a drink and you try to focus on something boring like this month's budget, or taxes. Anything but the way his throat moves when he swallows, or the way he tips his head to the side to press the cool glass against his neck. You turn back to the house quickly and stalk towards the door just as fast as you can without looking like you're rushing. You cannot be around this man anymore.

You can already tell he is going to be very, very, bad for business.

#cowboy!Soap #wow i could not stop writing for him so this is a big one #i simply love the way he and his darling interact #the nuns are just roommates who are trapped in an extended bit #its great cover for all the illegal shit and cash businesses they run #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap x reader #soap x you #soap cod #soap mw2

[kickthecan-revolution]

Today was lovely. It’s so hot here, hot for San Francisco. Over 80 degrees which is a lot for us. I ate cucumbers and green beans from my garden, watched the Blue Angels who are here for Fleet Week and gave everything a good soak. My lemon trees are coming back from the fertilizer burn - life fights for itself.

I also spoke to Sr Emmanuel today, a Carmelite nun who was rejected from her nunnery (think that is a word) for being too conservative. My mom took care of her and now, so do I. She’s 82 living on food stamps (I just discovered) which is so rotten at its core, so that will all need to be sorted. I pay her cable bill so she can watch Fox News and I don’t care one bit about that at all. This is all so much more than political theater.

The shadow work with my intuitive coach is surprisingly intense and I had a rough night last night. Purgation. A call with her today helped me reset. I put Peach in an enclosure in the big room with all of us to give her a break from the bedroom and the cats did ok - growling, hissing but they are just working it all out. Then I snuggled her when she was tucked back in her room.

I’m watching the Netflix show on Uber. I almost went to work for Lyft, John Zimmer recruited me and we spoke at length. I almost left for that job because of how good of a guy he is, but I’m glad I stayed where I am.

[creature-wizard]

Bill Schnoebelen, a man who claimed to be an ex-satanist (of the global satanic conspiracy sort) and has been demonstrated time and again to be a fraud, tries to establish a link between witchcraft (of the modern neopagan sort) and Roman Catholicism in Wicca: Satan's Little White Lie:

Both teach “salvation” through ritual acts and good works.

Both have a god and a goddess (Mary) figure in their pantheon.

Both have a slain and risen god who dies and is reborn in a seasonal cycle of ritual dramas.

Both have magic or thaumaturgy (Transubstantiation in the Mass) as central elements in their theology.

Both make extensive use of incense, statues, candles and ceremonial robes in their devotions.

Both believe in a kind of second chance after death (Purgatory).4

Both believe the rituals of the living can affect the dead.

Both believe in rituals of pain and mortification for purification.5

I'm sorry, Bill, but if you think that three and four are actual problems, then you might as well just give up on Christianity altogether, or at least admit that your version of Christianity regards a good portion of the New Testament as heretical. Because you've literally just declared that both Communion and the Resurrection are unchristian.

Also, if the idea of transubstantiation makes you uncomfy, 1 Corinthians 15:35-55 should have you crawling out of your skin.

Regarding number two, Mary is revered because she's a saint and the mother of Jesus. That doesn't make her a "goddess," because Catholicism has clear distinctions between saints and deities.

Regarding number five, this is because Catholic religion makes use of worship traditions that were widespread throughout the ancient Mediterranean world. Modern neopaganism drew from these same traditions. There's nothing sinister or conspiratorial about it.

Regarding number six, Schnoebelen elaborates on this one in the footnotes:

Catholics offer prayers for the dead, to get them out of Purgatory. Witches believe in communicating with the dead, especially at Samhain; and that they can, through mediumship, help lower level spirits achieve higher areas of growth before they incarnate again.

Loads of people believe you can interact with or affect the dead in some way. This doesn't prove any special connection between modern witchcraft and Catholicism.

He elaborates on number eight with:

Although this self-mortification element has been toned down recently in U.S. Catholicism, wearing of hair shirts, barbed wire corsets and self-flagellation (whipping) were regularly practiced within Catholic monasteries and nunneries until at least the 1960’s. It may still be going on today in the U.S. and is definitely still practiced overseas. Witches believe you must be willing to “suffer in order to learn” and most practice at least ceremonial whipping of each other. Wiccan authors also brag about how they whipped each other into a magical frenzy in order to raise a large enough “cone of power” to turn back both the Spanish Armada and the forces of Hitler.

Bill. Bill, my man. You might be shocked to learn that the New Testament has a lot to say about the value of suffering. Romans 5:3-4, 2 Corinthians 1:5, Philippians 1:29 2 Corinthians 11 and 2 Corinthians 12 - Paul was kinda big on this whole suffering thing, ya know?

So basically, Schnoebelen's made up a bunch of problems where none exist, and in doing so, implied that the very religion he professes to follow is actually invalid, lol.

#william schnoebelen #bill schnoebelen #wicca satan's little white lie #satanic panic

[silveragelovechild]

Back in the day, I saw the “Underworld” (2003), a Matrix like action movie disguised as a vampire film. I think it was suppose to be set in England, but it had an Eastern European vibe. While the main characters were English or American, supporting actors were not. I later found out it was filmed in Hungary.

I bring this up because Viktor, an ancient vampire, was played by an actor who not only drank blood but he also chewed the scenery. A few years later, when seeing the two sequels, I realized Viktor was played by Bill Nighy, an actor I usually liked. He must have been paying the rent with this role.

This week I saw “The First Omen” and as so it happens, Bill Nighy plays a Satanic priest. I guess Nighy’s rent was due again. It’s a prequel to the 1976 Antichrist classic “The Omen”. I won’t delve too much into the plot but it involves Margaret, a young American woman (Nell Tiger Free) invited by her home town Cardinal (Bill Nighy) to attend a nunnery/orphanage in Rome.

Margaret soon experience odd visions. We also learn that as a child she had psychotic episodes where she couldn’t tell the difference between her visions and reality. (But through out the movie, character ask her if she’s doing okay and she always answers that she’s fine.)

Like all of the earlier Omen films, some grisly deaths herald the coming of the Antichrist. They are suitably shocking. There’s also a scene where Margaret witnesses a woman give birth, but the thing crawling out of her who-ha isn’t a baby. (That might give pregnant women in the audience nightmares!)

As a prequel, this movie adds a very interesting backstory to the Omen lore… why were all those nuns and priests working so hard to give birth to the son-in-satan? The answer is clever.

On the whole, “The First Omen” is an effective Antichrist Movie with one exception. Towards the end, a car driven by nuns-out-of-hell crashes into another car. A young woman crawls out of the wreckage and soon begins twitching and jerking. It goes on so long, to be frank, I thought she was doing a hip-hop audition for the Italian version of “So you think you can dance”.

But fortunately after the scene, the story gets back to it purpose - the birth of Satan Junior

If they do a sequel (which would be a remake of the original) I nominate Ethan Peck to play the role of Robert Thorn, originally played by his grandfather Gregory Peck.

By the way, ten years after “Underworld” (2014) Bill Nighy played a Demon Prince in “I, Frankenstein”. Hopefully Nighy made enough on The First Omen (2024) that he doesn’t need to pay the rent again until 2034.

Brazilian actress Sonia Braga plays Sister Sylvia, a satanic nun in this film. Back in 1976, she starred in the delightful “Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands”. Braga made a number of American films soon after, including “Kiss of the Spider Woman” (1985). I haven’t seen Braga in a film in quite some time. I absolutely did not recognize her in “The First Omen”.

#the first omen #son of satan #pay the rent #bill nighy #underworld #sonia braga #Gregory Peck #psychotic episodes #Antichrist #backstory #movie review

[displayheartcode]

Really love your latest fanfic addition on ao3 lol Does everyone pretend they don’t know what’s happening when Gideon goes to visit halley at plummet drive 😂

thank you!

˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

here is what everyone is thinking for this au -

molly + arthur

"Hmmm, Molly said over a boiling pot.

Arthur paused midway, flour dusted over his hands from checking the bread. "Oh, now you wish to say something?"

Her expression turned withering.

"I remember a certain red-haired Gryffindor who fell horribly in love with a member of the Dueling Club. She was a year below him and a vicious opponent. Why, she was easily the bravest person in any room..."

"It was a different time!" Molly drew her wand in a semi-circle, causing the tops of pans and lids to rattle. The chopped carrots leaped into the air, the sliced chicken danced into the nearest pot, where inside the onions already simmered in the broth. "They're so...so young!"

Arthur covered the sourdough loaf with a flower-printed dishcloth. "We can't stop him. Not from joining the Order nor from falling in love during the middle of a war."

"But what about Ron?" She sniffled. "He must be heartbroken."

"Well..."

"Arthur."

"Have you ever considered that Ron inherited something else from your brother?"

Molly blinked. "Oh."

hector + ron

The tellyphone crackled to life.

"Okay, can you – Hector! Hector, how long can I live in denial?"

"Truly, it can't be that bad."

"Even her letters are turning sappy!" Ron complained. He rested his forehead against one of the frosted planes of glass. The entire booth was full of summer sunshine.

The weather did little to fix his frustration.

"I need you here. Now. I can't live with this alone for a moment longer."

Hector sighed on the other line. "Have you told them about the awkward position this puts you in?"

"Sure, let's also ship Halley to a nunnery."

"Ron!"

"But what if they break up? Who do I side with? Hector, what do I do if..."

"But she's happy," he said. "They both are."

"And obnoxious," Ron added, a touch bitter about upcoming shift in their dynamics. He now had to share one of his best friends with his brother!? The thought was incredulous.

At least he had Hector all to himself.

various weasley brothers

"So, it isn't a love triangle?" Bill tossed Fred a box. "A rectangle?"

"I do enjoy a good love rhombus," Fred said.

Bill dragged his hands down his face. "Why did I think it would be Halley and Ron?"

George took a step back from the floor-to-ceiling purple shelf, checking the inventory. "That's because you're never around to see him mooning after Hector. It's dreadfully obvious, but I suspect he'll reach that conclusion in a decade or so."

#everyone thinks ron is in a love triangle and that's where the comedy is #meanwhile he's actually starting his bisexual epiphany #fic #hinny

[libidomechanica]

A thousand ye sall be sportive and the spies her out of the heaving

A sonnet sequence

               I

And taught exceed proportion, his globe the sparkles dimly burn through six days should date the mind, emasculated tone: there in a rather climes in their exit await, from the forgot em. Toes touch, as in crushing disappoint of wot not answered Johnny’s but my birth, and they their cause? A thousand ye sall be sportive and the spies her out of the heaving? And why, I have meant, but them go. The blue night as thou with loss is my lips mute, I more to swage; nature’s scarce saw which burns they claim the body is thereunto an empress was agree, a fatigue of living Roman soul abroad.

               II

Yea having to do—by that in me. To dwell that same stars black boy all the pleas in a hurry. Are metamorphos’d straight thy wife, In this scythe answer above abasement seemed about the pony’s tail, and hers shall senses the pony’s with hymnes of old did pierce: where or unaware, till qualities who sternly dealt their emulations cast: a little starry Nymphs, who bear, sow with an unnumber seventeen. Doe not imitated after new hate me where and clouds to Betty o’er it anew reviving beams. Thy paine. Know him be showed my craft that tender. And frozen seas?

               III

How to die, her sepulchral urn, and, where anon. His bosoms fits! The once comes nearer them, nor understand you feel the evening breath the cosset, which the evening earth, as you ready, o mount and groans, as sure as that it I must err: but rarely containe, cloth’d foe sues for if I blush; an auld wife’s sad distemper or the eyes that mourning than music of the discurtesee, as sure of the years today a coffin for aye, the blue hilles, what is happens rarely: this tomatoes: no other shade, and be any wrinkle, or thee. To those old thee yesterday he built me alone, forsake to affright. Here Vertue is thy approaching, or honor Pan to spare it, he being told her things went bound up for the wide He is, if at noon my buff and by the must allows scope: now has lately glisten for emigration, and critic but be a tedious tale. Was this juncture.

               IV

Which burns to fear of sad mortal who carefull verse things. A most logical conclusion tries, in the streams, the knotted rushrings, too, such as thing balm, and those stated, that is become. And now my wrath and breaking the noise he long Excursion and eat, good turns and saw I at a chariot and my propensity to jeer: while you set him whom Hundsfot, ’ or Verflucter, ’ affection as to the Sunne, and wounded churches with you of this piteous news were woods, to wax more than bread; now the stand that is, if I grow jealousy, how withouten lincks she felt him to thy store of the earth.

               V

Of your great crop to spare not dwell one another praise, Hypocrisy designed: she held out as wide more than words I give thyself and brief as summer long bills per weed to chant thy constant clip enjoyment’s with a health—when in battle. Rise above, be of you taken by their luckier votaries, dear man, whom you love, with crystal nunneries; notwithstanding line between unequal grew. But I vnhappy herself she hies; tis on the dale, and does not finde, of life reach thou dost loudly should finding fancy, which cannot move her strive that Do; what not, when I breaking a conductor.

               VI

Shall I fly, to dwell; perhaps some folks be, the cost not matter thy perfect whole insensate brow, on the grasshopper its pipe given away that cheek, and he loves,—though hoary now, perhaps he’s out grasses of Don Juan, season he goes touch you eyeing made him well; perhaps; but into my handsome worthy wight. And now, I pretended: their sweet, wee dochter, sicker, older and Death. And forget the Muse at all thee O that all with schnapps’—sad dogs! And why, I have a spark cave, the middle-aged lads the blood threefold, it must love doth having love I will be hid by altering thing care?

               VII

Bred in the gravy as we went to the storms confus’d nor cold bier. Or the island, this Child I to my childhood in their grief a rich presentments doth thine heads in suck’d at Scots to permit the shall eat where than there is already got, deere killed. Came on and uninspired, how dear boy, you know not to view she is, and my brow; but in skin, which fools may seemed to a lost in their night all mine’s the avenger, mislaid low his horse thing, poised to devour&feed upon our fresh, as some find ye sall not lack, nor his very idle, bethink you once adore a satire to say is tinct.

               VIII

In many a soul despondence with rein? Saucy pedantic wretched her pony! He wrote I love professor Kant. Through, as in the onset come to Parnasse hyll, but much easier to singer, execrates his skill in travail hath of God and that air that it was; he has got a few months makes me with every hours, and pants a greeting, and all mine’s the long will, so pale blood thread the hand, we sat downward most; for what to hurry. My pass over. Stay while people deemed just the taper, my bonie Betty’s stand awa’ wi’ Jock of Of any Evill didst showers despite.

               IX

To wretched in pain, the empression; something that the river. Suffering blown; one unbecoming than foreigner or they, yet without remorse. And I, a tyranny could scorne of a dance nothing lost amidst the world will be the sea, between the winds kiss that at each wreaths for the day all in travelling spent; sing to come anchor,—replied, that she foremost o’ them were still, not making were, ye gentle, so t is vertues are all my heart, sweet, wee dochter, the fame his subject lends not move her down below, a heart doth impart. Earth our sunburned in neither Hand—not by birth, and rubs his legs, oh!

               X

One; sweet Access a Salve to you, the congenital perhaps, he’s past regrets and trials, but for a return. Like turning water dwell in danger and herse, there’s nobody knows what touch you condemne to her Deare, was, Johnny makes of soul! We don’t forget- me-nots, and pure and represent store which in the grew dim, drew quiet scent. They sounded. So narrow mind has this gay clime! And he makes thus to Betty well, yet as I know, and yet them, or limb—oh God hath not great wave the grew worser far nor have loves, her idiot boy. On thee, whether ioy hath weathery grassy slope I trace.

               XI

Which fools, nor smile, lest have sweates from its teat—sticks to my absence, say is it, a little Turk refused to grave, unable to the morn did shiver; and, from me, and in heaven, in they will not too busy, repeats while he laugh’d not sought they who would be like a spectre of the altar-stair. In which mixes up the splendours, hussar and doth many a less daddy’s spirit, without remorse. Envied, I, less real, or go and like a razor he has things below, making to each, to thrill and rich in the Cellar never since, mething to do— by that delights to sleeps warm us one.

               XII

Not this She’s gall—to stir they grow’th, which is too often all their hydes, like Samuel from yours, surmounts the porch, two discretion sets us free though her do strayne. Here not a tear: but aye shepheards ritch, that in me worthy skill and reward his steed and for their Master that delicate asylum, I ate young people round. Or five, or the dale, and hearts doth raine; whether tree, and freesing fuell of day. The mair—I mean sublime, nor Dog Star so when in the immortal war how to displast by dolors dint: all Musick sleep. And Betty’s still not a presents level, such pierlesse folly is he?

               XIII

Green tresses; tell their taste as clover, dismantle hath, every vulgarest affection. A dainty dish to doe at a greater, will come into the gorge upon thee, an every side. The point afterwards where the noise he shortest way to Phillis, the piping shows up at you like a silence all love the King gives thy pictur’d-forty manors if that from the river of Ismail. Perhaps some very politics as yet a paused—and that he must do: for Death, that laid his this soul began to see. The laughs aloud, where the skies from mortall sister, daughters of the human years ago.

               XIV

And he stroke before him to God’s horn in as since Adam, with thy fooleree. Oh what in heaven above all, praise or bread; now that tempt, but by and full choir’s amen. I ate young or old: the roaring with there will not take me whole and you turned they cannot begins to fear and lovely, Woman e’er you; so shy, graven widows’ shrink, which its many time and wreake my harme did erre, it was of such we may be said, I wish to do—by that wilderness of inflame through, and Crabbe will be. We cannot limit much to coste to sow for jealousy, how can I thinke that Paradise hast her, she scream.

               XV

So never heart join’d to publish theirs more perswades for great poesy has he whole grove of treated on the very puzzling on his pride, ladie, sae comely tree, and wets the thinks his own my toil me how I conclusion from you step approach the other end of their prayse and go, and mine to hold his holly whip, and groan to make mere life, Love. I scotch’d nor what is a scream&a yes. Wax dim, drew quiet consolations of ties mighty mass of salt and bind, they’ll both skill: for the lasse, who before eleven; tis eight one his title is it the fayrest floure out her shade themselves apart. What the beach idle Joan. Here and pain bend? Now Pontius Pilate speake?—Thus answer make, or give than anyone: the bold Churchman’s growing, direction remorse? That brow, on that has been’ a moment of glee, the man. Perhaps, with diamonds in beauties be late school boys and May? And shred the holy feet.

               XVI

With loue and quiet, to thrill and freesing fie was laden with honey cool and drink my fire: no such a grandfather there shepehearde his guifts; his fail, this sinne of beaver had a bower and he may judge that breath, which loue and he whole one, can stands; who did not all honor Pan to flowe, of that Fortune, make away that do you become. As the Thunderstands their jug was too cold, therefore him that wrought to fix again. Of moon that good body, and with thy long, the castellated Rhine: ye glory as may sway maternal cold is a power took the People’s purse, and make it to a vice.

               XVII

I’m here, but knewe we fooles, when in as since, nor abounded bosom which makes your sweet, wee dochter, the class was not quench your mother born in Roncesvalles’ battle. The church and pleasures haue no more which should you had sounding love and God-filled, it is her shade vnderfong who butcher’d how he suffering eyes this time, you know they grope among the soyle, that blossoms on her blood-dripping, old joys for peace, and that summer long date. Life’s tongue like photograph of yours, hath his incessant back-chat. Unworthy wife O Pilate is to kiss than she ran, and men to lose both be here, and how tender.

               XVIII

Over, and by the sun’s abundant flames when I seek not the free, whom he foremost o’ thee, gave means to leave my friend and eat, good the sun. She is a mere vermin, live month of worth than their taste, ’ as some twenty years the swallows scotch’d nor chid: so ev’ry servant too, and hamstring eye with joy. The effect note. The grave where is where. There are for good old man, midst there a water-fall. Being part; either added, nor at the British cabinet and are betray. Then off she had not dwell one and I—too late, may complain there, this silver cup, in the hardest step approbate with his wofull woe.

               XIX

I wish you’d changing daffodils; beside me fornicator, and ioyes. Yet it from heau’nly star? Alone and could not one who surrenders, their spite of nyne, when juvenile and pain bend? Quit, quit for the woman! Tell the former worth. But yet it command, this old nine which great core and vapour of sad more than those wear, play ye at his be never sinnes to Susan’s growe. But somehow evasive, something in life, who, wander each time to doe at a checked impulse: and lord of yet, him whom she loves, her rosy infant or in joy, I can speake we our guilt, perhaps too cold, that temptation!

               XX

Which looks from me no moe the Girl, in round thence for joys. This medicines double vales of time. If though he was my thought to expected signs. He went to hunt the food tree or turning neuer had, nor the free, who is it is free, wherefore, to lifts thy pictur’d-forty manors if that is a paradise, and above, and we the laurels on thee; and beauteous news of three-score; such thy villanee. In fact, then my good, and not find, but he is an hind, but intended: and, passions of Cypres doe fleeting to keepe vs wake, that turns of strange case to weepes Lobbin so without his ire.

               XXI

Alas, that is love it state, and loued her. To—God know you, if he would fetched her pony! They see all my dreadful night—did you have because no less real, or with that while thing breathing to come to tunes attires, bordred with his guide appear; and a yellowing fed; and archanged eye, to any that Mahomet should date things are more than worst deserues, the stroke before. Too high, too high production, she saw thee heir. Rolling from a learnedly of certain path I cannot tell; but after red. If questing were, since gone, we’ll go, and closet never gave means this best down like shepherd?

               XXII

I may find hers the wight, the great, tis help’d by Potemkin; others’ proper sight; in which must all that’s a narrow joy is blue candle. Save such the hair blows dipp’d in the ivory stages but feede, that is not knows nor car’d, nor wise; susan! While the posts up hill to the night’s teats, and however, I put bees in the faultlesse Jesus, who survived them—But your contracted thus the stops, she winged’ steed, I won’t philosophy, pursuing, a beauty: perhaps, with all is this rage shade then for all the moonlight thee that by your fate may never mind at length the place, there, extremely trouble Burden.

               XXIII

Juan was sexually tramp o’er the mother end of flowe, of slumber: not the chill’d up by spade or magnet-heat round. For its bonds, for Johnny’s nearer because beside me in my beloved, fill that love, war, or ambition of the raingear with hoary, must of all the sun should shun her like a man in them, to the world’s increasing fuell of the invention light; for idleness toil, this same quaint, unaware we’ve left our wish to supersede all meet and from coste, can nowhere I have playing fame: but Juan fell on us? They gave, which couple turns her eyes are, and hamstring, gnawing care?

               XXIV

His she, be-times abroad, a thine eies, the treasure quite forgoe: and Johnny here, while you in the wood, whether horrors of thy dayly, once are far estrange goddess face above that she, your failing, about me alone, for me. You, Bob, are red witherine taste as clover’s kiss drains I do prefer thee that which no long as the night and represents level, when she’d seen; for in that by that Mahomet should ease my name. From thou shalt Take lived-in, so unlikely though but really bringing its sleep reciting men whose loue with my days shouts a gavel. Apart that dread, and through road? As the wood.

               XXV

Does it hold? And when shall I fly, to her hadst afore fainting Chick Lorimer went. Some loue as lowde as Larke, o carefull Colin my selfe, to my absent case. Fog, the blood threefold, it must end. The favour of the mind by tender you; on Helen’s changing day. Mocking, patch which makes him pardon the graven they cut off your crueltie; your arms, I labour to make, or honor Pan to her face. What youth o’ gear, sae let the namelesse pate. Welcome! In all the Realm’s Estates such agonies shoulder in your head and I may perhaps, we never breast doth, its proper purposed overthrow.

               XXVI

To warm her selfe, to stayed steps: for the placed, may choose, that love it is gold for my sake evening breathing the spite his guide, and the season’d, as doth stell’d thy beames infusing hell! Or zero, she screaming his brethren the eyes well-seeing great a fall; the marrow, it hath breath; scatter for Babylon’s than they made the roaring in the received in not the byrds, which he wound. And a far higher trunk. From the breast, whence is sleep. Going, thou shalt Take livedst unwept, as I said, he deigned not veer round of the end there is not more of all his feel and eating cloud, above their wine waies of her note.

               XXVII

That had robbed us of salt and go, mount and love a white Ohio town she but my internal cold is become new rain rising fuell of my deeds did in him to the lawyer and time, I seek for speed—no matter that by this queens are her both a crew before poor Susan tell one and daughter love. But the bridges. Was Juan;—for let deep these hurts are rather tail, refashionable to give. Of all them let it cannons rattle, that they are so;—a male Mrs. As garments levels with, lotting right Desires. Mother, where it doth dayly, once unkind befriended leavening hell!

               XXVIII

Circling inside me. The feeble flocke in October, the bright meet in the placed, states to Hell—following conne no skill and making were, ye gentle, so as I said, as it selfe were wont withouten lincks of love, as the baldness spend his heath, this o’erturned the wight. This minds are thou wait beside thistles sourse, o ioyfull verse. And men shall be only there’s my drift? Cover the waur best, and thus they butcher’d for times for him, if he would be among they grow’th, which folly, or other prayse and daunce, or be so cleare; her he knock against youth, and clear eye’s spoils despite of a wink, but into his be never love may be, myself there fixed becoming teares and do not daunton me so idly speed—no matter, in this but change is tired, devoid of God to goe: they who is but as wide as Larke, o cared not seem paradise hast ye so, as scarce the smart; the fates complaint of time.

               XXIX

Were spirits, leave off there, the powers by which never was delight what did thy Rosalind complaining mucks at even a moment’s form legs. When all triumphant, unaware, till qualified that you, if her name o’t, but ten years she neither may thy foot of excesses, those babies in my Julia’s skin, when, wise poets still lend the sooner stand the class was setting right. Displease; and her transgression for the earth as docile, and wild youth doth haste, and he must be flat hills, where, to what does it it shook the windows on you: two cotton strips racing to keep from him and gives a foe.

               XXX

We take my selfe best ivory comb that shee taste, ’ as make. Hectic and by I’ll pour down like a pulsar behind, from the dance to Holland’s house no eyes glow like a larger to left, and gone, all princes do us both arrived at: there a man in black for the evening on himself about vs safely did offended him out of place is slack doth trustlesse Rosalind, and could be only law. Although I hate me for the owlets the skies; and taught one think the fawn that shall swearing, disarmèd of intrigues between theyr stead oblivion lacke, the cocks did clear as rhyme, whose that laid loved Chick?

               XXXI

Drain not that everybody love the stars thou should scorn toward the cameras want to burn; and, passion, i’ll be sportive as the lands with all in the door unto my gate brought remaynes but one, but if the frontier of bridges. From thee, nor mettled hound, that cheek, as acids rouse a dormant alkali, although here mayet the world the dale, and once are far estrange enough she alleadg’d Gods dear. I see all of tempting my lasse ay green bounding will, see with his mard. Of slumb’ring in Winters better, e’en with delights did myself will triumphant, uninterest foes—converted foes should so cold.

               XXXII

Both law and quiet—dull fenced-in skin, on the discover the fires: some twenty black and from recollects young Frank is not all that press was no word; if they who is none your winding with an unnumbered for thee time’s furrow some said, for her the concert strive to play at paste at first draught the town so long to turn to join again. At length! Generally lov’d us; nay more than there are not take care sweates from that bene the grass and mute, in sweet, two morning blue skies; and tell each other petty griefs in the whom yours, and with choise delight what is, if this did myself the capiendus.

               XXXIII

A half-wise; there is not shews, his glory yourself the windows greeting, and to Barbadoes, and least night beating clouds do gaspe, for dryed is there, and sages. The cliffs and from thence Love is past regret and let them brought it command, the conversion has generally lov’d us; nay more than there will; bearing, disarmèd of incorrigible salve which can stand than theyr peace and I listening, too, such thou hast her heart. And proud man abroad; inform’d him for thy flame. Cometh behind I won’t description for the budde eke needling mine, and now she’s at they ca’ me tyta or dales, or dreame, and chaste.

               XXXIV

The floating at the times of my study windows to my gate as summer, two morning. He that strait is fledde, there’s a moral and also pause, doe not practise! If you will—but Trusty—head in loved you in Grecian tires are apt to rove: look abroad, thou shalt Take or Give look at your equals, free from tyrant-hater heart: I string a hold on a fool whose Teeth are one unbecoming teares with the sparkles dimly burn the baldness of sorrow was poor Johnny’s lips sweld so content, her since, hand your wailing: these his this tomatoes: no other where euer than those pleasaunce no more.

               XXXV

’St see, nor hold a plea, whose endles sowed! I don’t know doth shepheards light: as thus; mine eye the silence and ices. He is, if I grow proudly vaunt, besides to the vanquish’d heart, subtle Greek, because I have always,— though her buried body stone, were not bound to flaw, or else to the mantle hard, young shade of the golden to give. Let not so wide more their trick! And makes me more, to leaves. Their meal was not a few months’ time, should she felt like angry not the earth is for an after whether how we won’t, and bridegroom waiting my bonnet but the gods holy words which we in her idiot boy.

               XXXVI

Was his happen as our fresh puncture. The dale, and plate she spite but she’s tired, let me walke with girt and Johnny’s glory. Now Johnny! Why of twelve, and tell me when a sort of last she counsel I shall be led by no measure take thy quill, and joined to awaken. I would much lesser suction, which well be the dances nothing disdaines above! Feuds, at least proper purposed overthrow. She hardly speech itself is dawn. Why, conquer’d with their prayse, but when she rather little mortal hill. Humble down, belonging strange man should I seemed about this. Let barb’rous careless bird, brooding.

               XXXVII

Their verdict is dust at the soueraigne heart. Besides that you had sound and friendly courage stagnates to prove heard sittes nothing about: Noli me tangered speculation, a greeting, as ever call on me this bustle thus they walk’d and straight remaynes but as usual term of that by you bred the reflection, or wring the dark can blaze from that sight weight of loue with this crossing and a cursed of them all by name. And in my bonie lady, Dians perhaps, where our fault was of them? But closest too much do I accuse thermometers sunk down rain, since her handsome a sultan?

               XXXVIII

Then calm yours, surmounts the flames to move: els thou only a white-haired old man, midst the core o’ thee, and the lingring nightingale, whence no more. That goes touches might not seen: for their way; but she had a dove’s pinion, she spiders to enlarge my woolly hate to say it is that which shall rear heart henceforth, I rise above, and soon be back again, nor brother: they neither doctor’s door unto me along at beings as if he shore, to lend the stroke of the yellow! But nowe sadder times of the gentle warblers hold out them that same states, as the breath’d on the trees, flutterings, and with delight.

               XXXIX

How dull even in years as nicely bred wi’ as gude will also pause beside that pale; your failing: these highways of flesh hath show’d what nature made me backe, that we were the sovereign’s sovereign eye, kissing and drooping trim, and seem’d to give involvèd other. Young, and all the grief that in her rarest to prove, to shew my bliss, a few month’s frost somehow,—it may cool; but in scorne the whispered long the hardly can firmly form’s faun to the darts be good use. Each letting other end of temptation; but view its boughes of free from out this soul began to stop with clipt pinion made in sprightly bleed?

               XL

Besides to the down, alone amid a prosperity. I can’t moves have warm’d: let’s try this sensitive animals afore, love, yours, surmounts his knowledge all, to what does it is the wood. They sound above my feelings as if I blush; an auld wife’s worth. Nor seek, i’m sure he died, Rorty, that the lieu of dress’d my Johnny, every one, he dreary front of hope. Life’s tongue candle. Body join’d to heares be poured out as he whole lengthen fetters plaint. I have kiss her note. Her he know not the edgèd steel them were was not shield then may love. I’m so stuffed withal she ran, and glitter, e’en gae hang.

               XLI

Which to future. Jump in the impatient within a monarch’s seat of honours, and that goes a loving to the poor Susan moans, poor desire speake, perswaded home it might I am half a hint of our meeting, and flowers, and climacteric tease mild and his past the purest Platonism at bottom through the fatall sister shone so continue: though such as there death. But they out-did the circumstance, absence of hem, that in that is the voice an ancient debauchee who lift my head, who taught in goodness shakes through the lieu of dress her, she shouts a gavel: esperanza’s Gavel.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #123 texts #sonnet sequence

[daduck]

This needs to happen in order to bring balance back.

TAMMY FLEEMAN NO ONE IS GOING TO HELP U MY HUSBAND BILL NUNNERY DOESN'T WANT U CARE ABOUT U HE IS NOT COMING HE IS FOREVER DONE WITH U AND UR CRIMINAL @SS .. ÓNLY BALANCE COMING IS JUSTICE LEGALLY BALANCING UR @SS N I'M GETTING MY MONEY BY JUDGE. N U GO TO PRISON TAMMY FLEEMAN FOR ALL UR ONLINE N BANK FELONIES NOT TO MENTION FORGERY IDENITY THEFT ON ME DONNA NUNNERY WIFE OF BILLY NUNNERY. N STEALING MY MAIL MY MONEY MY PROPERTY IT'S ALL OVER NO ONE IS HELPING U EVER TAMMY FLEEMAN OF DUDLEY DEXTER MISSOURI

#Youtube

[03josten]

so as a creative you're supposed to wake up and get out of bed every day. practice basic hygiene. cook or reheat three meals a day. work for 6-12 hours a day. attend appointments etc. clean up after yourself. do laundry. pay rent. pay your bills. exercise when you can. and then on top of that you're supposed to have the energy, the drive, and the time to CREATE? fuck this shit i'm joining a nunnery

[nityarawal]

9/23/23

"OJ"- AKA "Juice"

Morning Songs

How Many Songs

Can I Write 

In A Day

Make It Short

Make It Snappy

I Overtalk

I Know

Lyricists

Cut Back

Rich Refusals

My Poetry Teacher

Said

Is It Songworthy

Put It Somewhere

Else

Maybe It's 

3 Songs In One

Maybe You Have

A Voice

Where Some Have

None

Is It A Coincidence

That AI

Tells Kim Kardashian

Stories

Is It A Coincidence 

Her Daddy Was The

Atty

That Coined The "RO"

For A Murderer

Mommies Silencings'

Is It A Coincidence

Kimmy Can't Speak

Will They Resurrect 

Robert's Hologram 

To Defend

#MeToo Please

Attys Vanity Restraining Orders

Kimmy Can't Speak

Acts Like She Can't Sing

But We Don't Believe It

Everyone's Got A 

Unique Voice

Tune

If They Listen

To Hearts

Callings

Whistles

Kimmy Says She 

Can't Sing

In So Many Words

But North Likes

Her Tunes

And Dances Galore

With Her "Ye"

Ears

Kimmy Says She 

Can't Sing

In So Many Words

Stumbling Through

Christmas Recordings

Kimmy Can't Sing

Clearly Not True

Because

We Like Her Voice 

#FanGirls

It's True

If Kimmy Just Wants To Be A Poppet

"X" Meme

Like Elon

That's OK Too

Maybe She's Being 

Wise

Or Gagged

With Pleas

But Queen's In

40's

Seemingly

Behind Glass

Behind The Sidelines

Mamma 

Queen Of The Globe

Influencer

Got No Pride

Your Life's Not Over

You Outlived 

Your Mothers BFF

Not A Hasbeen

German 

Nicole Simpson

Might've 

Started As A Waitress

At 18 

With A Black Man

12 Years Older

Like Me 

A Nun

When Her Story 

Went Down

Cloistered By 

A Bipolar Monk

20 Years Older

Secretly Engaged

To My Molester

Handler

Pedophile Of Football 

Clinton League

Whitehouse

Boys Stirling Cards Clubs

Co-Creating

Spiritual Center

Manifesting

Heavenly Mountain

Muses And Me

Who Thought 

His Yogi Body

A Perfect Cloak

For A Tiny Football

Players Brain

He Ran Into

Every Pub

At The Mall

After 8 Hours Of

Meditation

Threw Money At 

#MeToo

Shopaholics

Forgetting Us

At Banana Republic 

Or Victoria Secret

Watching 

Modeling Purchases

We Went To Nephew's

Football Games

Fresh Out Of Nunnery

Forbidden Love Stories

Secrecy

Thanksgivings'

3 Years

Alienated

David Kaplan Must've Gone Up

To Bat

For OJ

Like The Whole 

Defense Army

Begging Him

Like Their Beloved

Buddha

"Don't Die Bro,"

They Begged

As They Chased Him

In His White Bronco

A Gun To His Head

They Tried To Shame

The Waiter

Instead 

Innocently

Returning

Nicole's Mothers' Glasses

From Italian Cafe

Brutally

Murdered Kid

For Jealous

Triangulated

"Theoretically"

A Mistake

After "Words"

He Said

Bloody Mess

Stunned

His Son Later Accused

Of Murders

Anyone But Him

Not A Cop's Football Hero

To Be Confirmed Guilty

20 Years In Jail

Per Head

Like Most Civilians

Would've Been

40 Years

At Least

For Even Attempting

Crimes

His Best Friends

Targeted

Atty's Families Pay

Still

Kardashians Paraded

But The Football

Hero "Juice"

Won't Cover His Bills

"Hoe-Flation"

Tax

Candace Owen's Calls It

On ROs

For Poly Trans Losers

You Can Play

The "Barracuda 

Mamma" Song Kimmy

If You Settle

#Nitya4Eternity

Estates

Uncouple My Kids

From This Blessed Mess

And Businesses

Gwen Stefani

Lady Saw

Lady Gaga

Or #FreeBritney

Might Sing For You

Anyone You Want

You Can Play Lori's 

Atty Brands'

Like A Poppet

For Kardashians

If You Wish

"Lawyering" 

Style

But If You Did

Some Yoga

Find Light

In Meditation 

Pranayama- Breathing Exercises

Cardio

Self Oil Massage 

Ayurveda

I Think You 

Might Just 

Find Your Voice

Too

No Need To Let

The Courts

Antagonize

"Ye"

Me

Or #FreeBritney

You

And Ladies

All Singers

Kids

Masses

Abused Today

We Know 911

Didn't Work For

Nicole Simpson

Nor Me

We Know 911

Didn't Work For

My Latina Mamma 

Country Club

Neighbor

When Militia Shot

Her Son Adrien

On Mistakes

We Know 911

Didn't Work For Me

Not Even The New

Fancy Texting

Services

We Couldn't Prevent

Domino Effect

Of A Dozen More

Murders

Idy Missing Peeps

Secrets Hidden

By Sergeant Protero

Young Bribed Investigators

Sheriff Gays

Secrets Hidden

By The Old Art Academy

Staff

Now Dead

Fired

Institutionalized Students

Silenced

My Old Therapist

Posing For CPS

To Traffic Actors

Super Geniuses

Harry Potters

Like Russel Brand

For England

Julie Anne Steiger

A Spy To Rockstar's Attys

In County Courts

How Many Murdered

On ROs

211

With Ashby Clark 

Sorrenson

United Way

Judge Judith Clark

Lori Clark Viviano

911

Until Her

Scuba Diving Demise

Last Year

Was She 

Charles Viviano's

Class Action Atty

Starter Wife First

Or In Walter Clark's

Gay Chain Of Attys

Marilyn

Butterballing

Lying On Radio Ads

Before 

They Became A 

Poly Tribe

Inflicting Sodomy

Taxing Breeders

Her Kids Keep

Advertising Her Expired

Law Scams

"Dead" Orders Now

On Bribes

Even Though She's Gone

Tweeting Onto

Twitter #X

So Can't You

Resurrect Robert 

Kardashian's

#AI Hologram Too

And Rectify

Peace

Forgive

What He Did

To Restrain American Moms

From Kids

With No Domestic Violence

Hotline

Mind-boggling Them

DV's A 1-800 Data Collection Site

A Waste Of Time

On Last Pleas

Calls

Desperate Needs

Reparations

Needed

Now

Rain Rape Clerks Violate

Moms

Silencing

For Robert Didn't 

Know He'd Win

He Didn't Know

He'd Make A Hero

Of A Murderer

In Loving His Brother

"Uncle OJ"

Y'all Called Him

He Didn't Know

Homeschooling

"Tweens"

His Girls Flaunted

In Court

Like Child Trophies

To Shame Moms'

Child Brides Still

He Didn't Know

His Armenian Baes

Daughters

Would Make 

Civil Activists

He Didn't Know

He'd Win

Against Odds

For A Slaughterer

Who Asked Him To 

Go Back To Work

Take the Sordid

RO Job

Still Murdering 25% 

Mothers Annually

From Divorce Courts

Sexualising

Infidelity

Violence

Vows

All He Knew

Was His Road

On The Coattails

Of A Football 

Hero

"OJ"

Capitalism

Won

Kardashian Hung His Head

When They Won

For He Couldn't 

Undo

Sin

An Oath

To His Family

Bonds

A Legacy

Bartered

Peace,

Nitya Nella Davigo Azam Moezzi Huntley Rawal 

[pauldelancey]

Paul's Awesome English Dictionary - Today's Word, Weedery

A weedery The English language possesses –Isn’t that cool, a word with five “s”s? – multiple words that end in “ery.” 1)  Perhaps the most commonly known is “nunnery.” n. nunnery: A building that houses a convent of nuns. Paul’s Amazing English Dictionary “Get thee to a nunnery.” – Hamlet, some act and some scene. Written by Bill Shakespeare. 2) The next entry of the “ery” hit parade is…

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#agricultural #Antarctica #ARIMA analysis #convent #dictionary #economics #English #Hamlet #Madison #marijuana #nunnery #nuns #Paul&039;s Awesome Dictionary #penguins #rookery #seals #Shakespeare #University of Wisconsin #weedery #weeds #winery

[silkybullets]

“Death Call”

Midland Hotel, 1925, sitting alone at a table the evening before Christmas, Tommy's icy eyes met with a face he never had ever thought of seeing again, not whilst being alive at least. Which lead us back to Birmingham, 1914, after he volunteered in Small Heath rifles, he spent his last couple of months home holding your hand in the hospital, watching your colours fade as dying of an unknown disease.

Warnings: English is my second language.

Words: around 2k

Tommy just ordered a drink, adding to that a whore, a brand new one in honor of Christmas when he initially went to light his cigarette. His eyes drifted to a table further away where a woman was already sitting down. He did recognize her, remembering the sweet touch of an old lover. His stiffened body didn’t receive the orders to continue moving sent by his brain, his mind too occupied playing memories of before the war. Before it all begins, or all ends, depending which side you’re looking.

One the other side of the room, you were searching the pockets of your woolen coat. When you finally found your cigarette case, you got one out, sliding it in between your soft lips. After pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you hassled lightening up your cig and welcomed the poison in your lungs as if it was the purest thing. 

The waiter came closer to you, putting down your rhum, which you drank in one go and ordered another one. It’s been a couple months you didn’t drink and, after this first shot you don’t remember why. When doctors failed to diagnose you and closed your file with a lung disease you were young and never tasted the flavor of the liquid poison. But at the cliff of death, God granted you the wish to live.

Too bad that’s when your memories of endless & lonely drinking nights happened. 

Coming from a christian family, it was no question for them you had been chosen by God to do something great in this world. Pushing their luck they sent you to an orphanage run by nuns to pay your debts to God. When their initial idea was to keep you pure for as long as you were to be alive, you chose a different path for yourself, bounged down into alcohol, drugs and whatever came with it.

Saying you were a non-believer would be too much, but the idea of being some kind of “chosen one” was nonsense to you, that just meant death was right under your nose or waiting for you at the corner of the street. What happened next was logical consequence, your depraved self was sent back home after the nuns numerous warnings were ignored. You did not change, and decided not to. 

When being saved or witnessing a miracle helps people get their life in order, it had the reverse effect on you and you had yet to get your shit together.

When they recommended you to drastically change your ways for the sake of your family if not for you, you gave in. You had siblings, and knowing how hard your family could be on them at times, you didn’t want to leave them alone. But your good will ended tonight.

You looked at the filled glass in front of you for what seemed like an eternity,  weighting the pros and cons of getting drunk tonight and all the other after that one. You being dead or alive it’ll be okay for your family, you assured yourself to avoid feeling guilty for choosing not to fight. 

Ten minutes and three empty cups later, you were ordering another one. The waiter was intently looking at you, concerned, while you were ignoring his pout.

“You sure you want rhum, ma’m, Can I bring you something else, gin perhaps?” He was as smooth as one could, but the implicit meaning behind his words irritated you the most.

“Do I look like I’m sad, eh? Tell me ‘cause I don’t look at meself in mirrors these days.” You begin, agitating your fingers that were holding another cigarette. 

“Gin’s for sad women, whiskey for big boys crying, rhum for people like me: We are not sad enough for trying to drown our pain in gin, not hopeless alcoholics enough to to get drunk with something as tasteless as whisky. We simply enjoy a slow death with a sweet and spicy flavor. Please bring me the whole bottle this time.”

Without realizing it, you offered the man the warmest smile he had seen tonight and he gave one back even if still quite taken aback by your confusing revelation.

Tommy had seen enough, he got up throwing a bill near his drink and cleared his throat for lack of clearing his head. He walked to the table, the woman he once knew was seated, his voice already reaching her ears before their eyes would meet.

“Is this seat taken?” He motioned to the second chair around the table. Finishing another glass she invited him to sit down with a move of hand. Her cigarette in between her lips, she poured some rhum into her glass and ultimately lifted her eyes to his face.

“Are you sick of the hotel whore, Thomas? Am not one if this is your question.” She blinked as puffing on her cig. 

“Merry Christmas to you too, Y/N” He coughed. “See you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Nor did you.”

Lies, it was all lies, if it wasn’t her eyes he hadn’t recognized her. The woman he was in love with was long gone and so was the boy who loved her.

“So OBE it is, now?” She looked up to him.

He stayed in her eyes before daring to speak, and break the eye contact.

“You were always used to call me Tommy, we can stick to that.”

She didn’t respond nor look at him, keeping for herself any emotions his words had unleashed into her, if they did.

“What happened to you?” He spoke in a more vibrant ton. An attempt to ease the heavy atmosphere.

“War happened to us, Tom.” 

His eyes snapped open on her.

“What France did to you, remaining alive did to me.” She offered him a fair smile, looking straight at him with the same piercing gleam hiding behind her iris than when they were younger. 

“We all came back alive. John, Arthur, Freddie... Although they are now some missing pieces.”

“Yeah, fucking pieces spilled everywhere. It’s looking like the puzzles we used to play when we were younger, huh? Does that ring any bell?” She giggles.

It was hard for him to read her, he didn’t know what he felt either. 

He stayed at the hospital three months straight holding her hand as her colors were fading. He remembers vividly how difficult it was for her to breath, speak, even keeping her eyes open was a huge sacrifice. But she’d never compromised to keep them shut as he told her to, his face gave him the strength of an army, as she used to say. And that had him laugh, even though now he doesn’t remember the last time something as close as a laugh came out his throat.

“Don’t get fucking lost in memories, Thomas. Just ask for it.” 

She poured some liquor into her glass and slowly slid it to Tommy as if anticipating him telling her he didn’t want it.

He watched her moves with amusement, it was odd to him to find her here, but even more peculiar was the fact it seems like she knew him still. Like those ten years that separated them weren’t there, like there wasn’t a day they didn’t think about the other fondly. Her gaze didn’t leave his, and he knew exactly where her mind was because his own was at the same place. She was getting all the information she could to try to match his now tired face with the one she had been picturing in her head all those years.

“Okay then.” he nodded. “ Where have you been?” 

A smile appeared at the corner of his lips, they were playing a game he couldn’t only play with her, she was the one girl before France, everyone got their advantages.

“Fucking dying of being alive after I got strunk by some miracle.” She raised a brow as if to voice the displeasure of missing the boat.

“I thought you were dead.”

“I wish I was, Tommy.”

He let out a long sigh. Once again he failed at keeping a light atmosphere. It was to be said she wasn’t any help.

That’s when he realized no matter how it felt like they were still the same teenagers, back in 1914 before everybody got fucked up, no matter how hard the memories were hitting him this exact same instant with their first kiss, their first touch and the first time they exchanged their desire to live a life together, they were not the same. Nothing was.

She was only a mere shadow of herself, and he? He couldn’t even look at her in the eyes for more than five minutes, too afraid it would dig out things that must be kept where they were nowhere to be found for his own sake.

Every little thing about before France hurt him. Even the happy throwbacks, especially the happy throwbacks. Knowing he would never feel those feelings again, never get silly about the breeze meeting with his skin or the rising of the sun at the top of a hill killed him most. That’s why he didn’t want to ask more about what happened to her. But at the same time, the questions came naturally to him, as if he waited all along to throw them out, taking off his chest a weight he never realized to initially be there.

“Have you done better after I left?”

“I did. For a time. Some years, in fact, even though my parents sent me to a nunnery to thank God for his mercy.”

He snorted at her words.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me? They were always about keeping you saint, even asked me to fucking give up on taking you running in the fields to watch the night sky until sun rised, they never thought it could be the other way around, you leading me.”

She laughed at this thought.

“Don’t you dare say this as if you disliked me being the lead, Tommy Shelby.” She sneered.

“No, I indeed liked it.” He shook his head without hesitation.

“If only they knew what we did, in those nights.” They both spoke, their voice overlapping along with their minds.

“Tommy you got to follow me, or else we’ll be too late.”

“Let me catch a breath, we got all the time to come up the hill some other nights.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s tonight the fireballs are going to be running in the sky!”

“You aware it’s not called “fireball” and that they are not ‘running’ in the sky?”

The girl stuck her tongue out, turning to him, her eyes mechanically squinted at the move. She did not realize he was right behind her and faked all along still behind at the feet of the hill to annoy her. His body strongly collided with her, making her stagger but Tommy’s arms locked her waist firmly, avoiding her body from meeting the ground, and his lips dropped on her mouth in a second, she couldn’t even close her eyes during the kiss.

“Stop it!” Her suave voice worded as one of her hands went hitting his chest, even if her deepest desire was for him not to let go of her lips.

“I’m thinking about that one night we first fucked. Bodies wet both by sweat and dew“ She muttered.

He was sitting but naked on the grass, his fingers intertwined in her hair that was falling at her back as holding her tightly. She was the type of flowers you thought were beautiful but couldn’t help but rip off the ground, dooming them to die in your hands. 

Her legs were strongly wrapped around his hips, she was carefully grounding down on him, making sure every of her moves were slow to make the pleasure last. She turned loose the grip of her arms around his neck and leaned backward so he’d hit her from another angle, this one allowing him to reach the bottom.

Her screams filled his ears and soon enough his mouth as she straightened back up, seeking his eyes, wanting to connect even more. The darkness he ignited in her eyes that night never left, always leading him to always want her, even in the most inappropriate places.

“I was thinking about that time at the local church.” He admitted.

“Every-fucking-body heard the screams--” She proudly stated.

“The priest was more than disturb” He added. “But they never found out who that was.” 

“Well, we know.” She handed him her cigarette. He gladly took it and smoked as much as he could, clouding his lungs as well as his mind.

She giggled some more, shaking her head both sides, she couldn’t believe they did such a thing, but knowing as mad they were when together, it was all figured out.

“It came back, Tommy.”

“What did?” He gained his serious tone back, eyes locking with hers.

“The disease, they say it’s even more violent this time, but I know it just never left. It has been lurking in the dark to come back when I’ll be happy again. But seeing I figured out its plan, it decided it was time to finish me off.” She sang. Her voice was devoid of any sadness, and he noticed it. “I think it’s a curse, Tommy. Run in our blood. Me grandma’ had that too, it passed a generation, leaving my mother and little sister alone. But I fear for the others.”

Old reflexes leading the way, Tommy’s hand fondled hers in the most natural way. He leaned forward to her as she took off his lips her cigarette, filling her lungs with that poison in hope it would kill the one that resided in her since way too long.

#peaky blinders #Thomas Shelby x Reader #Tommy Shelby x Reader

[theficplug]

Swipe Right

Tyler Lepley x Black Reader 

warnings : none, mostly fluff with just a tiny bit of smut if you can call it that at the end. i’m not too familiar with him but i tried ! to the cutie who requested, i hope you like it. alright enjoy x  Face mask on. Wine in hand. Impulsive 10$ Dark and Lovely hair dye bought at the beauty supply store already slathered in your hair. It was your time set aside out of the week for you and your best friend to complain. Although homegirl was on the other end of the phone getting ready for anniversary and was not relating to your rant of the night. 

 “Girl, I’m telling y’all right now if I get another unsolicited dick pic in my dms or another “You got the bill right? I’m just a lil in between jobs right now you know how it is right baby”? I’m joining a nunnery because I love love, but me and my bank account can NOT keep getting played like this.” you rant to your friends over a video call as you walk around your apartment tending to the foils in your hair. 

The series of failed dates and “talking stages” had left a sour taste in your mouth and put you off from dating altogether, but your best friend Layla is trying to convince you to give Tinder another go. 

“I don’t know Lala. I just don’t have another talking stage in me. I’m grown in the words of the iconic Miss New York Tiffany Pollard : I want eggs CRACKED AND SCRAMBBBLLEEDD” 

Layla’s husband Aaron’s laughter erupted from somewhere in the room on her end and you raise an eyebrow not knowing that he had been ear hustling the whole time. 

“Just give a little more time. You never know what can be right around the corner!  There has got to be at least a few foine men on Tinder. Give it one more try.” Layla encouraged before saying that she had to go because her man had the night planned for their anniversary dinner. 

You huffed and sat the phone aside as you waited for the copper coloured hair dye to process your curiosity got the better of you and you reached for your phone again.

As you thumbed through the profiles of folks “looking for a beautiful girl for me and my husband (:” and “if you a feminist, pay for our first date”. You were two seconds away from putting your phone to the side again before you noticed “Tyler Lepley” and his profile.

You nearly spit out the cheap bottle of Stella Rose on your carpet in disbelief. “No, this has got to be a whole ass catfish. Why would his fine ass be on Tinder of all places? Let’s humour him. Wait but he’s verified... At the very least this should be funny as hell.” you say to yourself before rolling your eyes. 

“Okay and I definitely got to make some single friends cause I’m really home on a Saturday night talking to myself. . . Whatever-” 

You swipe right on his profile and almost instantly your phone notified you that there was a match. 

‘Hey I just wanted to let you know I think you’re beautiful and if you’re ever in the area I’d like to take you out sometime. On me of course.’

“Oh he’s good.” you thought to yourself as you tried to think of a reply.

‘Sure, I’d love to. I’m actually driving up to Atlanta tomorrow for work. And if it’s really you. I want a Tika Sumpter autograph when we meet lol.’ you respond having a little fun with the troll at least before you log out for the evening. 

‘Oh, so you don’t think it’s me? I ain’t nobody big. Just tryna find the right one to bring home for the holidays so my nosey aunties can stop asking me when I’m gon get a wife lol.’

*attachment (1)*

“Pfft.. Anybody could’ve gotten that from Instagram or something.” you said to yourself. 

He’s good though. You’ll give him that much. 

‘Okay tattoos and lips! You’re handsome or whatever.That’s understandable. I’m looking for the same thing but I must be looking in all the wrong places cause if i run into one more dud that’s looking for a unicorn for them and their wife to “share”. Whew- it’s a lot lol.’

‘I get you. I haven’t matched with too many women on here myself. They either tryna see how they can get a job at the studio or they want me to be their sugar daddy. Which I ain't got no problem wining and dining my women btw. I’m just not looking for that kinda situationship. If you don’t mind I’d like to video call you cause looking as good as you look. I'm just tryna make sure you’re not a catfish.”

Hold up. This was just supposed to be a little fun and now this man is using the video call function on Tinder and you’re still sitting there with the dye on your head. 

‘Give me 25 minutes.’ you respond quickly before he replies with ‘take your time’.

The race was on as you began running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off as you wash out the dye quickly and inspect the colour. It was a really pretty natural ginger shade as you grab your hair diffuser and blow out your hair a little to dry it the best you could. 

After grabbing your makeup bag , you slap on the winged liner, a little highlighter, mascara, and a dark brown lipstick like you were back in school trying to get ready before class. 

You fluff and shake out your hair while looking at yourself in the mirror. With 5 minutes to spare you go to your closet and pull out a cozy warm brown cropped jumper that really stood out against your deep skin tone. 

“Alright, please don’t waste my time.” you whisper to yourself as you press the video call button and wait for him to come onto the screen. After about a minute and no answer you let out a heavy sigh feeling a little embarrassed and like a fool for actually believing that The Universe was about to hook you up like that. 

You put your phone on the table next to you and leaned back in the chair before hearing the notification go off again. 

After going back and forth about it for a few seconds you hesitantly answered the call and had to contain the array of emotions you were going through when you saw him actually on the phone, smiling at you with those pretty ass white teeth. 

You put the phone for a second before letting out a ‘thank you Jesus’.

“I should be saying the same thing about you! You are beautiful. God damn. When I first saw your profile I was like man aint no way. She gotta be some sort of catfish or something. I thought at the most it would be a funny cover story tomorrow on The Shade Room or something. ‘Tyler Lepley Catfished By Tinder Boo’. I apologize for not answering your call earlier. I just wrapped on set and I wanted to be able to hear you and give you my undivided attention. How are you this evening?” he says chuckling deeply and softly as he sits back in his trailer. 

“I was thinking the same thing. I’m like at least it’ll humour me, but I wasn’t really expecting you to want to talk. How are you? I was completely kidding about the whole Tika Sumpter thing by the way.” You say giggling nervously before fussing about with the window to try and get better lighting. 

“Oh really? Cause i got her to sign this shirt for you and everything. I can just do a giveaway with it or something else. I like your hair by the way...I’m doing good. It’s been a long day of pretending to get my ass kicked and running lines but I’m grateful to be in even better company with your pretty self. Even if it is through the screen for now. There’s something about a woman like you. I feel like I wanna know everything.” he compliments and flatters you and it’s taking your mind a while to process that this is not some extreme episode of Punk’d.

“YOU DID NOT! Of course I want the shirt. I was just fronting cause I didn’t wanna seem like that’s the only reason why I wanted to talk to you. Also, thank you. You just seem like someone who’s got his shit together and I really like that. At this stage in life people think I move too fast or that my standards are too high. I think it’s just because I know what I want. I want to be married, I want to be happy and comfortable. I eventually would really like to have kids. I want to have kids young so that I can have even more time loving them and my own little family..” you don’t like to waste time with the small talk. That’s nice too but you like to get straight to the point so that you’ll know if your views on life are aligned. 

And just like that you two begin to connect instantly . You talked and talked for hours from the time he left his trailer to drive home and halfway into the night.

You actually ended up falling asleep on the phone with him because neither one of you wanted to hang up. 

Scheduling conflicts prevented you from meeting up with him the next day but of course that didn’t stop either of you from constantly just wanting to hear from each other. 

4 weeks later after non stop talking and sending pictures and videos of your day when you couldn’t talk to each other. Both of your schedules lined up perfectly and you ended up meeting in Atlanta. 

You met him at a little cozy cafe and he held the prettiest bouquet of scarlet roses in one hand and a coffee for you in the other while standing with a huge smile etched across his face. 

“Hey handsome” you say to him before leaning in to hug him but was not expecting the peck to the lips. 

Even though you’ve discussed it and you’re both “if the vibe is right fun is not off the table” kind of people. 

You kiss his soft plump lips back and thank him for the flowers. Of course given the part of the city that you were in, he was recognized almost immediately by the barista.

“My mama and auntie love your show.They both got me into it too. We thought they were gonna kill you off this season! I was scared for you. If you don't mind, can i have a picture?’ The woman named Ericka asks as she moves from behind the desk .

“Hey Ericka, thank you. I appreciate it, of course.” He replied warmly to her before looking over at you to double check if you’re okay with everything. 

You awkwardly move to the side so that he can have his photo with the giggling fan already batting her eyelashes at him. 

He softly grabs your hand to keep you close to him and shakes his head. He’s lowkey clingy in the cutest way as he moves you behind him so that you aren’t in the photo and wraps your arms around his waist before flashing a smile at the fans phone.

“Thank you so much and you are so pretty!” She says to you before trying to quickly hustle back to work in the quiet slow moving coffee shop. 

“Me? Look at you and your pretty self ! I like your braids too!” You respond sweetly as Tyler beams with pride while watching you interact with the fan. 

“Sorry about all of that” he leans down to whisper in your ear before walking with you out of the coffee shop. 

“I don’t know about you but I ain't even gon’ lie I’m nervous as hell. I’ve been spending the last two weeks trying to figure out the best ways to spoil the hell outta you. I just think you’re incredible. From your story about all that you’ve been through to just like you. I ain’t ever had this before.” he admits and it throws you a little that he was the one nervous to meet you.  

“Nervous to meet me? Tyler, you meet about 50 different beautiful women a day. I’m not saying I’m not the shit cause I am. But no need for nervousness here. I think you’re probably the most down to Earth famous person I’ve met dude. A lot of them are real snotty when I style them and stuff. Just completely out of touch…You’re always busy doing something and I’m always working on something. How about we just do nothing? What’s your favourite way to do nothing?” I get all of my favourite foods and snacks and then I just watch all of my comfort movies and shows and forget about everything going wrong with the world even if just for a little bit.” you admit and he nods along before opening the car door for you.

The entire car ride there wasn’t an awkward moment or any tension hanging in the air. The conversation flowed smoothly all the way from the supermarket to the restaurants for to-go plates, and to his home there. 

There were plates of food of every kind of food you mention from pad thai to sushi, to indian food, mexican, and a plate of soul food cause you couldn’t visit Atlanta and not try some bomb ass soul food while you were there. Not to mention the snacks that you both also picked out. 

He had convinced you that you two should build a blanket fort and he broke out the candles setting the perfect atmosphere for the storm settling in. 

Something about the rain soothed you both as you fell over each laughing and talking about nothing and everything.  

“Okay so let me ask you would have rather been on Fear Factor or Supermarket Sweep? Because this is important. I’d have to go with Supermarket Sweep because I’d rather bust my ass on tv than be in a crate full of cockroaches or something like that. I would freak the fuck out. They was wylin in 2001” you say and Tyler ponders the question for a minute before letting out a pfft.. 

“Easyyyyyy. I will drink the cockroach milkshake over playing on Supermarket sweep. I don’t mess with grocery stores like that. That’s why I order all my stuff online now. I've spent two many of my Saturdays missing Saturday morning cartoons walking around with my grandma and mama while me and my dad trail behind trying to get them to hurry up. Besides skydiving is on my list to do at some point.” he explains and you pretend to gag as he says that he’d take the shake. 

“Good?” he asked with a little laugh as he noticed you had a whipped cream mustache from the caramel hot chocolate that he made for you. 

“Mhm” was the only response he got from you in between swigs of possibly the best caramel hot chocolate you’ve ever had. 

He leans in,  licking it off of your lips before kissing you sweetly and gently tugging on your bottom lip as his tongue runs across it again. 

“I bet you taste better though…” he says against your lips

His hands find your hips as he pulls you onto his lap. 

You learned that he was talented at several things outside of acting and being inside out beautiful and a good 8- . Anyways, something you couldn’t tell your girls about on Monday.

Leaving him was too difficult two days later because you’re both those types of people where if you know , you know that you’ve found your person and both agreed to try and meet each other twice a week. Once for sure so that you try not to miss each other too much. 

Maybe swiping right wasn’t so bad after all.

[unedited so if there’s a few typos i’m sorry i’ll edit them later! ]

#tyler lepley #the have and the have nots #fanfic for black girls #tyler lepley x reader #benny young

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Saturday 9 September 1837

8 ¼

11 5

very fine morning A- breakfasted about 8 ½ and I at 10 ¼ - she came and sat with me (talking about 1 thing or other) till after 10 – F72 ½° in the sun now at 10 ¼ am breakfast now at 10 ¼ - Mr. SW. just arrived – wanted A- no! sometime with Mr. SW. then had Shaw the junior plastered and paid him by check n°162 his bill for work at Shibden hall (bill allowed by Mr. Harper) – breakfast at 11 in 20 minutes then out – with Mr. Gray and about- till after 12 – had Mawson – his bill (in 2 for fillers and carts separately) for moving stuff from flower garden slope and from carriage road along laundry court brought in and changed by day – said Mr. SW. must bring it into measure that I might see what stuff had been removed and at what per yard – told him of being obliged to send again to Mr. Charles Priestley for beer – mentioned Tathams’ being now his Mawsons’ tenant and then mentioned incidentally that for cottages and new building the additional rent would be £30 per annum – Shepard has taken Mr. Stocks’s beer shop opposite the Stump X Inn at they say £20 a year paid M- for thatching stack and moving Walsh land and gave him check n°163 for £50 in a/c of his bills, and

SH:7/ML/E/20/0125

gave him note (enclosing check n°164 for £100 for myself) to ‘Mr. Mackean Yorkshire District Bank Hx’ then wrote the above of today till now 1 25 – then calculating till 2 ½ then out a little while – then had Parkinson, Booth and Hinton in a/c of great main drain at the Northgate hotel running down into winding hill lane about 200 yards at 8/. drain 2ft.  broad and 3 ft. deep and in places 8 or 10 ft. deep in the ground – Hinton has agreed with SW. to do drain for A- in Hatters’ street 18in. wide 2ft. deep at 4/. per yard – H- asked me if I could take 250 yards of stuff from Mr. Cross hills, Mr. Rayner – H- has offered to get it away at 1/6 per yard cube – says it would cost him ½ carting – but if I cannot do with it, he will think no more of the job – when I told him I had 6000 yards to come from the platform and 3000 from the Incline besides drifts, and all from Northgate, he say that I had no room to spare – he says there are 1000 yards flat a ft. deep = 333 1/3 yards cube to come from the courts and perhaps about 150 yards more to come from Northgate besides the new street – said I should not do this latter at present – after Hinton had Blythe – he thinks we have got wood enough for the whole of the work talked of to be done gave him the last invoice but one to parcel out – then had Mr. Crook the bell hanger paid him (1st time) £10 in a/c and he thinks I shall have to pay him £30 or £40 more – all this settling took me till about 6 – then out about – with John Booth in the stables talking about setting all my turned up ground with potatoes next spring – then with Mr. Gray till came in at 7 ¼ - went into the cellar – 1 port – dressed – dinner at 7 ½ - came upstairs from the dining room and till 9 5 wrote the last 17 lines of today – then lay down (very sleepy) and asleep till A- came to me a minute or 2 before 10 – F50° at 10 5 pm fine day with the exception of a little light rain now and then in the afternoon – Letter from Manchester tonight – from Noe Briggs offering himself a candidate to live in the ‘nunnery’ as the people are pleased to call the Lodge

[ripsofthetmnt]

depending on your knowledge of opera, you may have noticed how in season 1, episode 17 of rottmnt, "The Evil League of Mutants", the patter song baron draxum and his gargoyles sing when explaining their history with the turtles is very much a variation of the musical number from the 19th century comic opera, “The Pirates of Penzance”. 

for comparison, heres George Baker singing the Major-General's Song with the D'Oyly Carte Opera Company, conducted by Malcolm Sargent in 1929. who do you think sings it better, George or Draxum?

source: x

lyrics in cut:

I am the very model of a modern Major-Gineral, I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral, I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical; I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical, I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical, About binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news, With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse. I'm very good at integral and differential calculus; I know the scientific names of beings animalculous: In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral, I am the very model of a modern Major-Gineral. I know our mythic history, King Arthur's and Sir Caradoc's; I answer hard acrostics, I've a pretty taste for paradox, I quote in elegiacs all the crimes of Heliogabalus, In conics I can floor peculiarities parabolous; I can tell undoubted Raphaels from Gerard Dows and Zoffanies, I know the croaking chorus from The Frogs of Aristophanes! Then I can hum a fugue of which I've heard the music's din afore, And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense Pinafore. Then I can write a washing bill in Babylonic cuneiform, And tell you ev'ry detail of Caractacus's uniform: In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral, I am the very model of a modern Major-Gineral. In fact, when I know what is meant by "mamelon" and "ravelin", When I can tell at sight a Mauser rifle from a javelin, When such affairs as sorties and surprises I'm more wary at, And when I know precisely what is meant by "commissariat", When I have learnt what progress has been made in modern gunnery, When I know more of tactics than a novice in a nunnery – In short, when I've a smattering of elemental strategy – You'll say a better Major-General has never sat a gee. For my military knowledge, though I'm plucky and adventury, Has only been brought down to the beginning of the century; But still, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral, I am the very model of a modern Major-Gineral.

#rottmnt #tmnt #audio #music #baron draxum #allusions and references

[daduck]

TAMMY FLEEMAN MY HUSBAND BILL NUNNERY IS EXHAUSTED WE CHRISTENED OUR NEW HOME TIL 4.45 AM HE SLEEPING LIKE A BABY. UR ASS IS NOT A THOUGHT IN MY HUSBAND BILL NUNNERY MIND WE HAVE OUR BEAUTIFUL PRIVATE PROPERTY NEW HOME TOGETHER WE ARE HAPPILY MARRIED AGAIN WE ARE NEVER LETTING U NO WHERE NEAR US OR OUR MARRIAGE.