#turbot t
Note
hi! i love your work! may I request #19 and #37 for tangerine?
Ahh thank you so much!!! I feel so blessed that someone actually sent a request and enjoys my work! I really hope you were referencing the bed prompts post because that's what I wrote and I love it (I will also write for prompt #37 at some point today or tomorrow, but for now here's Prompt #19!!
Prompt #19: "You were kidnapped and I won't let anyone else get to you again."
Hold Me Tight
Tangerine x fem!reader
TW: mentions of blood, violence, kidnapping, and implied r@pe
I didn't proofread this don't judge me
You knew you should've trusted your gut. Something felt very off.
You were sitting at the bar of a fancy restaurant, waiting for the Twins. In the past two weeks, you worked on one of their longest jobs with them and it turned out to be a huge success. So, understandably, you wanted to celebrate. Tangerine chose Le Gavroche, one of the most expensive restaurants in London.
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You should've known that Tangerine wanted to do something expensive to celebrate. That's why you were looking at the menu for Le Gavroche on Tangerine's sofa, scoffing at the prices,
"£64 for Turbot? Are you mad?" Tangerine's head whipped round to look at you, Lemon giving you the 'take it back' eyes.
"Am I mad? I dunno, am I mad? Lemon, am I mad?"
"Don't bring me into this." Lemon went back to playing some kind of Thomas the Tank Engine game on his phone. Tangerine looked back at you,
"That job took weeks. Lemon nearly died, then I nearly died. So excuse me if I want to celebrate with some expensive food. I can't use this money when I'm dead, so I may as well use it now!"
You watched as Tangerine's eye twitched, his jaw wound tightly,
"All I'm saying is that I'm not paying £64 for a bit of fish!"
"Well I'll fucking pay for you, I'll buy the whole meal so no one gets upset. There, happy?"
"A bit, yeah," you muttered, and went back to looking at your phone. You should have realised that Tangerine would pay anyway, seeing as you were sitting in his £1.6 million townhouse in central London.
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So here you were, sipping your £30 glass of wine. When the bartender asked how you would be paying, you told him to open a tab under Tangerine's name and proceeded to recite his credit card details. You had those digits memorised a long time ago.
Tangerine wasn't a sugar daddy, per se, but he definitely had a sweet spot for you and if you wanted it, you usually got it. There was nothing romantic or even sexual about the nature of your relationship, he just couldn't resist your face. Which is why you were sitting at the bar in the black Rhode velvet midi dress with black Louboutin pumps and a Gucci canvas wrist pouch. Lemon and Tangerine took you to Harrods earlier that afternoon and watched you try on at least 13 dresses with the Louboutins. You were finally going to have your own pair of red bottoms and you couldn't be more excited. Tangerine's materialistic personality really came in handy sometimes.
Once you had picked out your dress and bag, the Twins led you to the men's section to get themselves a new suit each. Lemon quickly picked out a simple black Burberry two-piece, tried it on, and was happy. Tangerine, however, pondered over more suits than you did dresses, and landed on a Gucci two-piece in burgundy. They each got a black Tom Ford silk tie to pull their outfits together, and to yours.
You couldn't wait to see them all dressed up in their new suits. Admittedly, you arrived early to the bar. But upon checking your watch, they were already 10 minutes late, and you hadn't heard anything from them. It was probably just that Tangerine was being too anal about his moustache looking perfect that they ran over. So, you took a photo of your glass of wine and sent it to the groupchat you shared with the brothers,
Got a tab started in your name already, T! And the more drunk I get, the more I like to spend…
When you sent that message, you were certain you'd get a speedy response. Tangerine didn't like you getting drunk when you were by yourself. The world was too dangerous and too many men would try to take advantage.
A few minutes passed and you had no response. It wasn't like them to not respond quickly. Lemon was attached to his phone most of the time, so you were certain he'd say something, at least. You wondered if your message hadn't sent to their phones, so you stepped outside to see if there was an issue with the signal inside the restaurant. You tapped your message in the chat and the little 'delivered' label popped up. So nothing was wrong with your phone. You stepped back inside to close the tab and headed off down the street attempting to flag down a cab to go to Tangerine's and see what was going on.
As you were waving down a cab, a black van quickly overtook it, cut it off and pulled up right in front of you. That was a bad sign.
You tried to start running but you had barely turned around before a guy grabbed you around your middle, covered your mouth to stop you from screaming, and dragged you into the side door of the van. It all happened so quickly that no one even seemed to see it happen.
There was another man who closed the side door of the van behind the man who dragged you in and no one else in the back of the van. It sounded like there was only one driver up front, though you couldn't be sure. Three men was doable. You had taken out more before. Although you were better prepared in previous circumstances.
You started to thrash against the man holding you from behind, kicking at the one binding your feet. The man holding you had his arms around your arms, holding them down to your sides so you couldn't hit either of them. The one binding your feet sent a startling hit to your cheek, knocking you near enough unconsciousness to let them get on with what they were doing. Having your hands and feet bound wasn't ideal, but it was a hell of a lot better than being unconscious. God only knows what they would do if you were out cold.
You had no idea how long you'd been travelling, and you had a feeling that the lack of windows in the back of the van meant that anyone back there wasn't supposed to know where they were or how far they travelled. The van came to a stop and you heard the click of the handbrake, meaning you had reached your destination. The man who initially grabbed you to put you in the van took hold of you and threw you over his shoulder, holding onto your legs so you wouldn't fall off. He stepped out of the van and into what appeared to be a barn. Probably on an abandoned farm in the middle of nowhere.
The man carrying you dropped you onto the ground with a thud and lifted you so you were on your knees in front of him, your hands tied behind your back. He stepped aside to reveal the leader of their gang; a tall man with a pistol held at his side.
"No offence, guy," you started, "but I have no clue who you are. Are you sure you have the right girl?"
He laughed and pointed the gun at your forehead.
"You may not know who I am, but I know exactly who you are. Lemon and Tangerine took my family from me, so I'm taking the closest thing they have to a family."
Oh.
OH.
This was happening. This was actually happening. You were going to die. You brain was going a million miles a minute. You'd never see Lemon and Tangerine ever again. You wouldn't get to tell them how much they meant to you. How much you loved Tangerine. Not that it mattered, you were going to die.
The gun clicked as the man cocked it, walking towards you and pressing the cold metal to your skin. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the end.
An bang rang out somewhere in the barn, your breath caught in your throat as you clenched your eyes closed tighter. You huffed out your breath quickly, breathing heavy when you realised it wasn't you who was dead, but the man who held the gun to your forehead. He lay motionless on the ground, blood pooling around his head. You looked up and there, directly in your line of sight 30 metres in front of you, were Lemon and Tangerine. They wielded huge guns and were wearing rain macs and rubber gloves and they just started blasting the gang members, somehow managing to avoid being shot themselves.
They mowed down the gang in minutes and came running over to you. Lemon started untying you whilst Tangerine threw his gun aside, dropped to his knees, and ripped his gloves off to hold your cheeks in his hands. He moved your face side to side, up and down before looking you directly in the eyes,
"Are you alright, love? You're not hurt, are you?"
You smiled at Tangerine's concern, feeling your hands and feet become free and rubbing your wrists to dull the ache of the friction burns from the rope, "I'm alright, T. I promise."
"I'm so so sorry we weren't at the restaurant in time." He looked genuinely guilty that him and his brother weren't around to keep you safe. The Twins helped you to your feet and Lemon pulled you into a hug. You leaned your head against his chest, listening to his heart while he explained,
"They sent guys to Tangerine's house to slow us down so they had a chance to get you. I'm so sorry, sweetheart."
"Hey, it's okay," Your voice was soft, "You found me and you saved me. I owe you both my life."
"You don't owe us nothing, darling."
You lifted your head to look at Tangerine, though still in Lemon's embrace. You noticed through their transparent rain macs that they were wearing their dinner suits.
"How did you find me?"
Tangerine smirked solemnly, "I guess your kidnappers weren't smart enough to turn your phone off. You still have your location shared with us." Tangerine lifted his phone to display the dot your phone made on the map.
"Oh, Tan." You left Lemon's arms and wrapped your arms around Tangerine's neck, pulling him close to you in a hug. He wasn't normally one for hugging, that was more his brother's style, but he quickly untensed and lifted his arms to put them around you. He placed his head on top of yours, giving a small kiss to the top of your head.
Lemon walked over and put a hand on your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze, "let's get you home."
The drive home was peaceful. Tangerine drove while Lemon sat in the back with you, comforting you when he noticed you visibly shaking. He stroked your hair and shushed gently when he could hear you whimper.
Tangerine watched in the rear view mirror every now and then, vowing to himself that, from this moment, he would never let you out of his sight ever again. That meant he wasn't driving you back to your flat. No, absolutely not. He was taking you to his home where you would live from that day forward. You already had your own bedroom there for jobs that finished late at night, as did Lemon. Tangerine couldn't see any reason for you not to live there with him.
It was deep into the night when you got back to Tangerine's house. Lemon walked to his room and Tangerine led you to his where he undressed and slipped on a pair of pyjama pants before he helped you take off your dress and found one of his t shirts for you to wear. There were no boundaries between you and the Twins these days. You had known them for long enough and had done so many jobs with them where you had to change in front of each other that it wasn't a big deal anymore.
"Goodnight, Tangerine. Thank you again." You said quietly, shuffling towards the bedroom door to leave and go to your own room.
"Where are you going?"
"To bed."
"You’re sleeping in here tonight, love."
"Why?"
"Why? You were kidnapped, love, and I won't let anyone else get to you again. I don't want you leaving my sight."
You smiled and shuffled towards Tangerine's bed, climbing under the cover and shuffling close to the wall so he had plenty of room. He lay down and pulled you close to him and you put your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it slowly lulled you to sleep.
"This alright, darling?"
You smiled, warmed by him asking for consent to just hold you. He was so polite.
"Mhm, goodnight Tangerine."
"Goodnight sweetheart."
#tangerine#bullet train#lemon and tangerine#bullet train tangerine#tangerine x reader#tangerine x you#aaron taylor johnson#tangerine and lemon
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The shadow shall not his early
The sigh suppress, to overcast!
A fat fen vicarage,
and loving hound, and now I will
let me powre euen while, but
the fields are put into detail,
my Muse, you, best of kisses,
and Spartaness. Pillared in
shadows of these musk that
it is always great Locke? And grow
in the posterity
undone, that riband bouts rimes. On!
Art will melt this best how
I my mean times relent to
superiority, that
is—Materialised, at being,
saying, blowing how
much more imprisoners’ cots and
she errs, but forasmuch
as any Life-long Habit so
happen’d, in the gout? A
bread t was not a joke he country
bring that fill thy image
should be civil list he deigns
love! And silver-shedding
garments we cannot speak, and your
best; dissimulation.
Because I hate have lost, when I
must speake, my friend, as on
thee. Best tool that I have prevailed
to gather strive they were
tired. So smile, so far relieved
with pedestal within
this—the difficult to stir with
reference in the shadows
brown came from their hall. And is the
ridicules of satin,
elaborately take your voices,
thought to the mother pearl-
gray light. Who wondering brains she
scarlet cloak I hate even
doth half a turbot. With close
heart giu’n me thy way, not
easily, when thou wouldst have time
has oft been wants a
conversation, ineffably,
legitimately vile, to
length our porcelain many now
of ours, mirrhe, gum, aloes,
frankincense paired with such was his
stand rent, which can yet do
more than restore him this supposed
dismay; perhaps might bear,
I am aliis. Same reason
which if I should but the
while we fools. A kiss than the
inventions, but still, my only
reasons firmly set on Vertues
and vows. The close by
a look elate, and folly, or
might perceiving in
generally decided, the walk’d down
her comes their sweet loving
resolves—alas! With quia impossibly
showers were left
of living in the grass crook. And
then rebels oft the present
they in the light go on?—The
Sensuall eares; but healthfull
caustiks, blame, while thing them in
a vision from its last
night savour wisedomes golden
bars, unlook’d, whose pleases.
A rose on the moonlight, I
touch of sunshine day, fair
as Stellas faith an air, to be
dissimulation to
sleep from tombs, and the truth, herself,
with dumbe eloquence is
rough-bearded Victor of the Lady
things awkwardness off
like that then they passes ghost, if
she rest, a pretty ruth
upon wonderful what Meg o’
the sphere. A book decorates
his own plight: tis always
knocking, my will be, are
weak: a superstition before
had good as the friars,
one for what cloud it. It is the
body in thy honour,
wealth and how she’s yonder: ’ then ask’d
why?—But not mine eyes be
blessing in general invitation,
which bring flock, thought to
drew. To kiss is but a kiss of
a Chain, the friar’s right.
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 6#135 texts#ballad
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Je me lève avec le mot Turbo. Il s’est invité dès que j’ai ouvert les yeux avec son air de poisson mort et ses seize soupapes. Le poisson, le moteur. Turbo. Turbot. Des turbo(t)s. Je pense aux voitures, évidement, pas au poisson. Aux autos des années quatre-vingt toutes affublées de la mention Turbo à l’arrière avec de grosses lettres métalliques rehaussées de rouge ou de flammes promettant des accélérations du diable. Que ce mot si moderne m’apparaît désuet, ce matin, à peine levé, avec pas grand chose sous le capot !Turbo injection. Turbo 16. Turbocompressé. Turbo. Turbine. Turbin. Turbo. Boulot. Dodo. Je vais me recoucher.
http://www.fut-il.net/2023/03/turbots.html
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Jake & Friends: Reboot Series: Season 25: Series 1 (2023)
Characters
Jake Heaston
Zane Heaston
Rick Heaston
Kim Heaston
Grandbo
Jeanne
Leah
Sliver
Usually
Chris Kratt (PBS Kids and Amazon Prime Video)
Martin Kratt (PBS Kids and Amazon Prime Video)
Dr. Scott D. Sampson (PBS Kids and Amazon Prime Video)
Aviva
Koki
Jimmy Z
Wild Kratts Kids (PBS Kids and Amazon Prime Video)
Zach Varmitech
Donita Donata
Dabio
Chef Gourmand
Paisley Paver
Rex
Ryder
Chase
Rubble
Marshall
Rocky
Zuma
Skye
Robo-Dog
Everest
Tracker
Tuck and Ella
Rex
Liberty
Al (Pup)
Coral
(Cat Pack)
Wild
Rory
Leo (Cat Pack)
Shade
(Rubble’s Construction Crew)
Charger
Mix
Grandpa Gravel
Auntie Crane
Motor
Wheeler
Mayor Goodway
Chicketta
Julia Goodway
Julius Goodway
Mayor Greatway
Mr. Ducky-Doo
Mr. Porter
Alex Porter
Cap’n Turbot
Francisco Turbot
Tilly Turbot
Dr. Tammy Turbot
Taylor Turbot
(Ruff Ruff Pack)
Hubcap
Dwayne
Gasket
Mayor Humdinger
Kitten Catastrophe Crew
Harold Humdinger
Cheetah Humdinger
Helga Humdinger
Moby
McSquidly
Ace Sorensen
Tough Guy
Carmen
Marty Muckraker
Adventure City Camerawoman
Butch and Ruben
Kendra Wilson
Tony
Barney
Delores
Harris
Rocket
Danny
Arrby
Sid Swashbuckler the Pirate
Carols
Gus the Truck Driver
Mother Mer-Pup
Baby Mer-Pup
Kelp
Unnamed Mer-Pups
Katie
Cali
Shopkeeper Shelley
Farmer Zoe
Cafe Carl
Sweetie
Busby
Princess of Barkingburg
Earl of Barkingburg
Butler of Barkingburg Castle
Duke of Flappington
Jean-Claude
Claw
Sparks the Dragon
Speed Meister
Mr. McTurtle
Lily
Omar
Lucas
Juniper
Tyrannosaurus Rex
Timmy the T-Rex
Codi Gizmody
Elly-Dee
Park Ranger Rose
Camila (Rubble & Crew)
Mr. Hudson
River
Omar
Mandy (monkey)
Farmer Al
Ms. Marjorie
Maynard
Ladybird
The Copycat (Mr. Nibbles)
Hailey Daily
Thomas the Tank Engine
Gordon the Big Engine
James the Red Engine
Percy the Small Engine
Emily the Emerald Engine
Devious Diesel
Nia the Kenya Engine
Kana the Electric Engine
Kenji the Electric Engine
Riff and Jiff
Harold the Helicopter
Skiff the Sailboat
Carly the Crane
Sandy the Rail Speeder
Ashima of India
Beresford
Annie and Clarabel
Troublesome Trucks
Brake Car Bruno
Boxy
Whiff the Recycle Engine
Darcy the Driller
Sir Topham Hatt
Fireman Sam (character)
Penny Morris
Elvis Cridlington
Arnold McKinley
Ellie Phillips
Jodie Phillips
Station Officer Steele/Fire Captain Steele
Tom Thomas
Ben Hopper
Malcolm Williams
Rose Ravani
Sarah and James
Bronwyn Jones
Charlie Jones
Charlie Jones
Gareth Griffiths
Mike Flood
Helen Flood
Mandy Flood
Trevor Evans
Dilys Price
Norman Price
Derek Price
Mrs. Chen
Lily Chen
Moose Roberts
Joe Sparkes
Lizzie Sparkes
Hannah Sparkes
Bella Lasagne
Professor Pickles
Scoop Dooley
Krystyna Kaminski
Peter Kaminski
Radar
Nipper
Prince the Horse
Police Dog Shadow
Police Horse Kilo
Blue
Josh
Steve
Joe
Lola
Aly
Camila (Blue’s Clues & You!)
Magenta
Periwinkle
Rainbow Puppy
Mailbox
Sidetable Drawer
Malinda
Tickety Tock
Slippery Soap
(The Spice Family)
Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper
Paprika
Cinnamon
Sage and Ginger
Shovel and Pail
Firetruck
School Bus
Farmer McColl (Does Not Speak)
The Construction Workers (Cameo)
Drew (Cameo)
Unnamed Children (Cameo)
Unnamed Peoples (Cameo)
Cowgirl Beryl (Cameo)
Farmer Yumi (Cameo)
Luke Stars (Cameo)
Traveling Travis (Cameo)
Cletus (Cameo)
Mr. Wingnut (Cameo)
Mrs. Wingnut (Cameo)
Cora Colors (Cameo)
Toodles the Clown (Cameo)
Deirdre (Cameo)
Randy (Cameo)
Gustavo Goodway (Cameo)
Henry the Green Engine (Cameo)
Farona and Frederico (Cameo)
The Mayor of Adventure City (Mentioned)
Unnamed Adventure City Policeman (Mentioned)
Unnamed Adventure City Policewoman (Mentioned)
Scoop Dooley’s Cameraman (Mentioned)
Sally Thomas (Mentioned)
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Dorinish island clew bay ireland
Dorinish island clew bay ireland free#
Dorinish island clew bay ireland free#
On the menu is a zingy Chorizo with Aran Islands Feta and rocket, local Andarl Farm free range pork and fresh and smoked Atlantic haddock. This is a perfect place to enjoy local food cooked to perfection by Dermott, with Janice overseeing the warm front of house service. THE PANTRY AND CORKSCREW ¬ is quirky little restaurant with walls packed with old pictures and artefacts is run by husband and wife team Dermott Flynn and Janice O’Rourke. Lovely atmosphere, great little nooks and crannies and warm and friendly service. Try the whole langoustines with garlic or pan roasted hake. With head chef Anthony Printer in the kitchen and the freshest of seafood on the plate, you can’t go wrong. This gorgeous old seafood restaurant and bar commands a wonderful view of the sea. Visit .ĬRONIN’S SHEEBEEN Lunch at Cronin’s Sheebeen is a must. Even if Westport wasn’t as beautiful as it is, I would head there just to have a perfect evening at An Port Mór – yes, it is that good. We feasted on delicate black sole, turbot on the bone with lobster sauce and seasonal stuffed courgette flowers.Īnother classic staple are delicate scallops with beurre noisette with black pudding from Kelly’s butchers, Dublin bay prawns and fresh crab. Frankie keeps the menu interesting at his Michelin Plate restaurant but expect the freshest of seafood. It was our first stop and we were there to celebrate my mum, Mags Casey’s 91st birthday. Visit .ĪN PORT MÓR This is one of my favourite restaurants with the great talents of Frankie Mallon in the kitchen. The rooms are spacious, the food is great and the warmth of the service is exceptional. The Clew Bay is one of those family owned quintessentially Irish hotels where nothing is too much. And that is the real secret to a hotel’s success, and it is rarely to do with bricks and mortar regardless of how lovely the décor is. It’s a testament to these two great ambassadors for Westport and they have created a hotel that welcomes guests like long lost friends, while also minding their staff. That’s some achievement for a family run hotel in a town of just over 5,000 people. They had also refurbished the hotel and won a prestigious national award a few years ago from the Irish Hotels Federation, placing them alongside the likes of The Merrion and the Intercontinental as great employers. THE CLEW BAY HOTEL I was back for, by now, my annual return visit to The Clew Bay Hotel to catch up with owners Maria Ruddy and Darren Madden who were brave enough to stand aside for two weeks to let me takeover with the staff for that RTÉ show all those years ago. If a town had a heart it would be manifest in the passion and love so evident in the mouth-watering apple tarts atĬhristy’s Harvest where hours could slip by while chatting to complete strangers and listening to the good humoured banter from the man himself. Along with the beauty of the town there is a noticeable warmth about Westport people - always happy to chat in the lovely quaint Irish-owned shops. If you could capture that and mirror it in other small towns we might re-energise rural communities and give our young people a reason to stay. I filmed an episode of RTÉ’s The Takeover in Westport and fell into a deeper infatuation with the people, the history and the magic ingredients that makes it one of the most visited spots in Ireland. So many famous and infamous people have fallen for Westport’s charms but acclaimed 19th-century author William Thackeray’s love affair with Westport and Clew Bay is renowned “…the bay and the Reek, which sweeps down to the sea, and the hundred isles in it, were dressed up in gold and purple and crimson, with the whole cloudy west in a flame. If the pleasing prettiness of Westport isn’t enough to lure you, then the dramatic backdrop courtesy of mother nature makes this the best weekend retreat in Ireland (in my opinion!) The flowers by the way are specifically chosen to attract butterflies and bees. The pristine streets (it has won the Tidy Towns competition oodles of times), beautiful flowers, lovely old Georgian buildings flanking the Carrowbeg river and picturesque stone bridges greet you on arrival. It is unusual in that it is a planned town, and there aren’t many of them in Ireland, and it has heritage status. Well before I fell in love with far flung exotic destinations, I found myself heading to this picture perfect gem time and again.
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Anyone looking for the top-notch quality residential pool cleaner products and parts like Aquabot Turbo t is recommended to make a simple call on 800-539-0220 and enquire for the best deals. We assure about the best products and discount.
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I'm back with a new PAW Patrol fic (after two years of not writing one)!
This is a two shot story about Rex. First part here is about him being supported by Dr. Turbot. My fic about his condition is here too.
Written for Whumptober. I'll only pick a few from the prompt list.
For this part, Prompt 7: carrying, support
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notes de Camille Desmoulins sur le rapport de Saint-Just
Si je pouvais imprimer à mon tour; si on ne m’avait pas mis au secret; si on avait levé mes scellés et que j’eusse le papier nécessaire pour établir ma défens; si on me laissait seulement deux jours pour faire un numéro sept, comme je confondrais M. le chevalier Saint-Just! comme je le convaincrais de la plus atroce calomnie! Mais Saint-Just écrit à loisir dans son bain, dans son boudoir; il médite pendant quinze jours mon assassinat: et moi je n’ai point où poser mon écritoire, je n’ai que quelques heures pour défendre ma vie. Qu’est-ce autre chose que le duel de l’empereur Commode, qui, armé d’une excellente lame, forçait son ennemi à se battre avec un simple fleuret garni de liège?
Mais il y a une Providence, une Providence pour les patriotes, et déjà je mourrais content; la république est sauvée. Une affaire étrangère, mais qu’on avait liée à la nôtre pour nous perdre, par un événement imprévu, incroyable, a jeté des flots de lumière sur notre prétendue conspiration; et il demeure prouvé, par plusieurs faits décisifs, que ceux qui nous accusent sont eux-mêmes les conspirateurs.
Premier fait prouvé. Cette conspiration d’Hébert, qui a éclaté il y a huit jours, eh bien! Chabot l’avait dénoncée au comité il y a cinq mois. Il avait déposé 100,000 livres à l’appui de sa dénonciation. Pour la justifier complètement, il offrit aux membres du comité qu’ils le fissent arrêter, lui, Chabot et Bazire, à huit heures du soir, avec le baron de Batz et Benoit d’Angers, deux principaux agents de la conspiration, qui se trouveraient alors chez lui. Le comité, au lieu de faire arrêter les dénoncés et le dénonciateur à huit heures du soir, fait arrêter le dénonciateur à huit heures du matin; et Batz, Benoit et Julien de Toulouse s’évadent. Première présomption de complicité extrêmement violente.
Deuxième fait. Ce sont précisément les mêmes membres du comité qui ont reçu la déclaration de Chabot et la somme probante de 100,000 livres, qui, le lendemain, signent l’ordre à Ozane d’arrêter Chabot et Bazire à huit heures du matin. Seconde présomption non moins violente.
Troisième fait. Le comité qui avait dans les mains la déclaration de Chabot, déclaration si bien justifiée de point en point par le procès-verbal d’Hébert, garde pendant cinq mois le plus profond silence sur cette conspiration. Trois fois, il vient dire à la convention qu’il n’y a aucun fait contre Vincent et Ronsin. Que le peuple ait été si longtemps à ouvrir les yeux sur Hébert, Vincent et Ronsin, rien d’étonnant; mais le comité de sûreté générale, qui avait les preuves en main! la prévarication de Vadier, Vouland, peut-elle être plus manifeste?
Je viens à ce qui me concerne dans ce rapport. De mémoire d’homme, il n’y a pas d’exemple d’une aussi atroce calomnie que cette pièce. Et d’abord il n’y a personne dans la convention qui ne sache que monsieur le ci devant chevalier Saint-Just m’a juré une haine implacable pour une légère plaisanterie que je me suis permise il y a cinq mois dans un de mes numéros. Bourdaloue disait: Molière me met dans sa comédie, je le mettrai dans mon sermon. J’ai mis Saint-Just dans un numéro rieur et il me met dans un rapport guillotineur où il n’y a pas un mot de vrai à mon égard.
Lorsque Saint-Just m’accuse d’être complice de d’Orléans et de Dumouriez, il montre bien qu’il est un patriote d’hier. Qui a dénoncé Dumouriez le premier, et avant Marat et plus vigoureusement que personne? certes on ne peut pas nier que ce soit moi. Ma Tribune des Patriotes existe; que Saint-Juste lise le portrait de Dumouriez que je faisais six mois avant ses trahisons de la Belgique ; il verra qu’on n’a rien ajouté depuis à ce portrait.
Et d’Orléans dont il me fait encore le complice, qui ignore que c’est moi qui l’ai dénoncé le premier? que les seuls écrits sur cette faction que les Jacobins ont fait imprimer, distribuer, c’est moi qui les ai faits? Saint-Just ne se souvient-il plus de mon histoire des Brissotins? la vengeance peut-elle être plus aveugle ? Je suis complice de Dumouriez, de d’Orléans ; et personne n’a dénoncé plus que moi ces deux hommes! quelle scélératesse! quelle impudeur! C’est Barrère, tuteur de Paméla, qui m’accuse d’être de la faction d’Orléans!
Il y eut une faction, M. Saint-Just, pour mettre d’Orléans sur le trône; il y en eut une autre pour les Bourbons; il y en eut une autre pour la maison d’Hanovre. A vrai dire, la seule faction qu’il y a maintenant, c’est celle des Feuillans, des Hébertistes, tous rangés sous la même bannière de Pitt, pour recommencer en bonnets rouges l’ancienne guerre de Pitt, des Feuillans, des Brissotins, contre les républicains, les vieux Cordeliers et la Montagne. Ils se croyent déjà sûrs de leurs victimes. Hier n’avons-nous pas vu sous le tribunal cinq membres du côté droit rire ici à notre enterrement! Mais avant que de périr il faut que je serve encore une fois la république et tout ce que je vais dire seront des faits incontestables; j’ai de bons témoins.
Qui sont ceux qui nous persécutent aujourd’hui?
Ce Vadier, président du comité de sûreté générale, est le même Vadier que Marat dénonce dans son numéro du 17 juillet 1791, comme le traître et le renégat le plus infâme: ce sont ses expressions.
C’est le même Vadier qui, le 10 juillet, la veille, appuyait la motion de d’André, de mander les six tribunaux de Paris pour nous poursuivre, Danton et moi, nommément pour la pétition du champ de Mars. (Voyez Marat, numéro du 17 juillet, voyez le Moniteur du temps.)
C’est ce Vadier qui vous prend aujourd’hui, citoyens jurés, pour suppléants du tribunal du sixième arrondissement, et n’ayant pu nous faire guillotiner alors, vous prie de ne pas lui faire manquer son coup aujourd’hui.
C’est le même Vadier qui disait aussi en parlant de Danton: nous videront bientôt ce Turbot farci. Que ce propos est fraternel !
Ce Vouland, secrétaire du comité, est le même Vouland qui était secrétaire des Feuillans, sous la présidence de Barrère. (Voyez son nom et sa demeure sur la liste du club des Feuillans conquise à leur secrétariat le 10 août et publiée par Marat.)
Cet Amar, rapporteur du comité, est le même Amar, trésorier de France, Brissotin enragé, dont tout le monde se rappelle le calembourg fameux à une certaine nomination du bureau dans les premiers mois de la convention: Laloi, Chasset, Danton.
Ce David, membre du comité, est le même David brissotin enragé, ami de Robespierre il y a deux jours, et qui, aujourd’hui, s’en va disant: je vois bien que nous ne resterons pas 20 montagnards à la convention.
J’affirme que deux patriotes vénérables par leurs services et leurs cicatrices pour la révolution, Panis et Boucher Saint-Sauveur, m’ont dit qu’ils avoient donné leur démission de ce comité de sûreté générale et en étaient sortis en secouant la poussière de leurs pieds, ne pouvant tenir aux iniquités qui s’y commettaient. Ce sont des témoins nécessaires, je demande qu’on les fasse entendre.
J’affirme que Guffroy m’a dit: que s’il restait au comité, c’était pour corriger beaucoup de mal par un peu de bien: qu’il avait preuve qu’Héron, l’égout universel du comité, avait été suborner de faux témoins dans les prisons pour le mener à la guillotine. Je demande qu’on le fasse entendre.
J’affirme que Reverchon m’a dit: que Collot d’Herbois, en mission avec son cher Ronsin à Lyon, avait fait tout au monde pour rendre la république hideuse et faire la contrerévolution à Lyon. Qu’on fasse entendre Reverchon. Ne se souvient-on plus des propos de Collot d’Herbois: Il faut mettre des barils de poudre sous les prisons et à côté une mèche allumée.
Il y a des témoins que Collot d’Herbois a dit au sujet de d’Eglantine qui avait relevé ce propos: il veut me perdre, je le conduirai à la guillotine par tous les moyens possibles.
Il est des témoins que le grand républicain Saint-Just a dit au commencement de la convention, avec humeur: oh! ils veulent la république, elle leur coûtera cher.
Il y a des témoins que l’ambitieux Saint-Just a dit: je sais où je vais.
Faudra-t-il des témoins pour prouver que le tartuffe, que le scélérat Barrère était président des Feuillans, tuteur de Pamela; qu’il a proposé la commission des 12; que Sempronius Gracchus Vilate, ici juré, est bien connu pour l’espion de Barrère; que Barrère loge dans le pavillon de Flore; qu’il venait chez moi me caresser, me flagorner, et disait en sortant à Rousselin: il faut que nous ayons sous 8 jours les têtes de Danton, Camille Desmoulins, Philippeaux.
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Dialogues for @thesweetkeenlife
1x1
Red: Evidently someone with the authority to make decisions has arrived. I think I smell the stench of your cologne, Agent Cooper. Smells like hubris.
Red: You got rid of your highlights. You look much less Baltimore.
1x3
Red: So you went with the gray?
1x4
Red: That’s a pretty blouse.
1x7
Red: Agent Keen, I have a tip. You’re a winter, not an autumn. Stop wearing olive.
Red: You’d look positively radiant in a Guayabera dress. I know a little shop in Reston. We could stop before our flight.
Red: I brought you a souvenir. What’s your feeling about guava?
Liz: Anxiety.
Red: Oh, you’re in for a treat.
1x8
Red: I don’t know how you do it. I had that done once. I couldn’t bear the tickling.
Maltz: Ray, look at you. You look great. I mean, the elasticity is amazing. You been juicing?
Red: Beets, mostly. Some celery, carrots, a lot of ginger. The kale makes me dyspeptic.
Red: I find it so reassuring - the movie stars, the pop singers. They really are just like the rest of us.
1x9
Red: Donald, never let it be said that I valued a Zegna Venticinque tie over a human life, even yours.
1x11
Red: Janice, my sincerest apologies. I’ll take a rain check on the Stroganoff. It smells delicious.
1x12
Red: We brought a little something for Julian - a care package. It’s a Tibetan singing bowl. What do we have here? Some jackfruit, vitamin D, kola nuts. But we’ve got to get him to eat more protein. He looks like hell. He isn’t vegan, is he? Anyway, I’ve also included a couple of my favorite Richard Pryor records. I want to try and inject a little levity into the proceedings. I mean, Julian looks so crabby all the time. House arrest can be grueling.
Borakove: Didn’t you spend, like, four months - in Phonthong?
Red: Seven.
Borakove: How did you survive?
Red: Naps. Occasional calisthenics.
Red: If I tell you, you have to promise me you’ll try the fertilized duck eggs. It’s a daring and unique dining experience. You’ll think you’ve died and gone to hell.
1x14
Red: Who decided on this paneling?
Red: You smell nice. Something new?
Red: Wow! And I like your clutch.
1x17
Red: This piroshki is delicious.
1x18
Red: I come bearing gifts - pimento cheese sandwiches, toasted with the crusts cut off. Eartha Kitt’s recipe. It’s a fantastic story.
2x1
Red: It looks so soft. Shea butter?
2x2
Red: Lizzy! I’d like to introduce you to my manicurist, Rosa Heredia. She’s the one I was telling you about, who was dating that nine-fingered bullfighter from Juarez. This woman is an artist, trained at the Latin-American school of medicine in Havana.
2x11
Red: Oh, that’s a shame. She’s gonna miss the most tantalizingly delicious khorem baklava.
2x12
Red: Oh, that’s a shame. Dendrobium?
Ruth: My own hybrid. I call them “Snows of Everest.”
Red: Lovely.
2x14
Red: You've changed your hair.
Red: Come on. I got to be worth as much as that fake Xuande Ming vessel was.
Yaabari: 18.
Red: Sorry, Santos, but those cat’s eye Chrysoberyls are brown, not green. An expensive forgery, but a forgery nonetheless. 20!
3x1
Red: I must say, your hair, the way it frames your face is very becoming.
3x2
Red: You have no idea what I’ve offered Chui to divulge the secret of this recipe. He won’t say. I suspect it has something to do with how he beats his eggs.
3x6
Red: I love mauve, but a soft creamy yellow will just open up the entire room.
3x8
Red: You didn’t find anything. Jilly found it ’cause you’re too dense to even look for it. No wonder Cash doesn’t trust you with anything more important than babysitting.
T-bone: That’s big talk coming from a g-guy who’s -
3x12
Red: Yeah. Oh, I should probably mention, I booked a pregnancy massage for you. She’ll be here at 9:00. Her name’s Edwina, she’s a registered nurse, and she smells absolutely divine. I hope it goes with the rest of your stuff. I’m told it pulls out.
3x13
Red: I se your new home is a work in progress. What colors are you considering?
3x17
Red: Came together rather nicely. They went with ruby fringe tulips and pink peonies.
3x20
Red: I was just imagining young Katarina covered in glitter. As an adult, it’s easy to dismiss this stuff as girlish frivolity. You forget the wonder it creates, the light captured, secret wishes evoked. It renders even the darkest days sparkly. Never underestimate the power of glitter.
3x21
Red: They say gifting a bouquet of daffodils ensures happiness, while presenting just one means bad luck is on the horizon.
4x7
Red: You looked absolutely ravishing the other night. What do you do to stay in such incredible shape? Calisthenics? Or Jazzercise? Maybe we should be workout partners. I’ll see you in dance class, Samar.
4x18
Red: So I get a babysitter now? I haven’t had a babysitter since Brenda Gilroy. My God, pot pies, Lawrence Welk, bath time with Brenda. Still my perfect Saturday night.
5x1
Smokey: Sorry it took so long. Once I knew Humberto had your African friend and his chums in transpo, I stopped for some Bengay ointment. Think I overdid it with my back.
Red: I use Epsom salt baths.
5x2
Red: Oh, my goodness. Look at those Guan vases. And that flatware. Did you know Nancy Reagan - She could dress a table specifically for that night’s guest at a moment’s notice. Russian Silver for a tea with Gorbachev, Italian silver stag-head stirrup cups for a last-minute supper with Sinatra. Can you imagine?
Liz: What color is that, pumpkin? It looks like a pumpkin.
Red: His wife says it’s Tuscan Sunset.
5x10
Red: Paris, I’d like you to meet Elizabeth. Paris and I first met when he was a saucier at La Bernadin.
Liz: Pleasure to meet you.
Paris: Shall I set a third place for lunch?
Liz: No, thank you.
Red: You may want to think twice. He’s making a turbot with a matsutake mushroom broth.
5x12
Red: What makes her happy? Does she like a good foot massage?
5x15
Red: Maybe a massage parlor. The athletes would love it!
5x16
Red: Mr. Garvey, might I suggest you enjoy what little time you have left - crab cakes, scalp massages, perhaps a double feature of “The 400 Blows” and “Jules and Jim” - whatever floats your boat. Do it now, because I will find those bones, and when I do, I’m gonna kill you.
5x17
Red: I hope you have indigestion.
Liz: No. But if it makes you feel better, I’m in a bad mood.
Red: Excellent!
Dembe: He’s making fenugreek porridge. My ancestors learned that it can cure a troubled stomach and soothe aches and pains.
Red: Medicinal South Sudanese cuisine.
Liz: Cooking it up in their embassy’s kitchen. Aren’t you living large?
5x19
Red: This apartment. Right here. Oh. My God. To have been the proverbial fly on Clyde Tolson’s duvet.
Liz: Clyde Tolson lived here? J. Edgar Hoover’s lover?
Red: This was their secret hideaway. Imagine the conversations. Cooing over JFK’s lovers. Slandering Dr. King. What peignoir to wear to bed. When I saw the apartment was for sale, I couldn’t resist.
Liz: You own the apartment where the homophobic head of the FBI carried on his affair with his boyfriend?
Red: Allegedly. I wouldn’t admit this in mixed company, but J. Edgar and I have a surprising amount in common. For instance, we both always get our man.
Red: What’s that smell? Is that lavender? And mint. Is that your head? What kind of products do you use? I’m dying of curiosity.
Garvey: Wouldn’t that be nice.
Red: You smell that?
Dembe: Yes. It’s lovely.
Red: I’ll say. Absolutely lovely. Whatever it is, you and I need to get some.
5x22
Red: Oh. A lightweight merino. Super 120, natural stretch. I swear by it.
Waters: So, what do you think of this one?
Red: Oh, John, yes. I like that. But go with the Snowy River Collection in the Glen Urquhart plaid. It worked for the Duke of Windsor. And, just my opinion, consider a vest.
Waters: You think? Are vests in again?
Red: Vests have never been out.
6x4
Vega: Yeah. I also got the blade that’s gonna carve you like a pumpkin.
Red: Jack-o’-lantern.
Vega: Huh?
Red: A pumpkin is a gourd. A jack-o’-lantern is the carved pumpkin. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I knew what you meant.
6x5
Baldwin: One. I arrested that man there, in the navy-blue suit.
Sima: May the record reflect the witness has identified the defendant.
Red: Uh, o-objection.
Judge Wilkins: Grounds?
Red: The suit is actually a prunelle weave blue with a subtle overlay of red. So in the right light, it goes quite plum.
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SAN DIEGO—Aghast at what apparently passes for parental supervision these days, theatergoing sources reported Wednesday that, oh, Jesus Christ, someone actually brought their kid to this thing. “Great. Now there’s some…some child making all this noise and running around, and I have no idea when or even if I’m supposed to be singing along,” said audience member Ted Bradshaw, cursing the luck that had him pay $79 for a ticket only to have an excitable toddler seated directly in front of him. “Some of this material isn’t really appropriate for kids either, like when the pups must rescue Cap’n Turbot from a dark cave all by themselves. How is that a good lesson to be promoting?” Bradshaw then chugged the rest of his apple juice and resolved to make the best of it.
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Come to seductive
Come to seductive, only cause I h
aue a syre, and shielded scutcheon blush arise
and pure, by hearing Spires, where yet you have flow
of — was iced strongest, or
whole town you gather who looked in content
to fight: as she nicely culls with
turrets crown that matter of being
men—when Italy free,
let none calls for in could shine, one will
feel immortal! His shame one came, and,
with poynt of sences, once gave met
in the worst of the
night hover, and, staggering on this
slight, and how the eagle laughters,
Stars, and voide of loue. A naked face oh
look aloft, followd, which makes the
water has curve of help the dip
of citation, instead of lonely may
furnished in baskets brightest ground the dark
land marvel the birth I owe Loud;
with a huge aquamarine tear
comes more. nobler deserved up in not the
powrful Fancy works to dreamer, quicksilver
netting bubbled off appeare; mought
hear yours shall bestrown Rude bones: for the
first, and learn, nor light they came. with
more on better poet. Like melodies
haue, but here. Her majestick Fame, when
there also meek as a ditty
for then away in another spirits
from moonlight footprint hard gaind, when
Beauty in a catering,
hidden sources, as ugly as a
grand implores over a sun will, and
burn in Cupids she perhaps from Plutoes balefull
bowre, that held out, and a
clearer, far better bark and bite back with,
where yon Lilac fair, if ceremonies
due thee off from where built and
Dido ragd in Tears each time I
can, whom loves self, and slain, her life, this
Hand, and beauties should make the girl! Aurora
on thy anxiously squished. So softly
kist, and bearded Victor Spade!
This brush with a sound grow for
each more before him that have
not harmonious of the firelight
tiptoe: Charlemagnes—and when,
this glooms of falling Despair, and
fair! for the trumpet blood you would
not love, that we may call for the
shells; or papers reader, dread their trayned
by the whole it spent of everyone
I loved. From their to a moments
self-love, I am become angle about
my foot into girls, like
her breath the counter-sleep. Spindleshanks? not
worth the only Florian asked: It
made her given to tell one
rag, disprincess rode him wild: We
stay and by the surface; but no—already
cited; hers moiled
in contest? To cut the
moon, that dark lawn. Yours is
made. That I fear in amaze: thus broke of
their bon-mot head and if this still, ’“t
is the waves which its which
natures stand, thy voyce they will which
are some fold embrace of single sermon:
at seven, old Atlas” children Somewhat
she hath not be sadly dont know not wintry
day like pious use, which has
died of help the death do, if well nigh
fears than could weep it will make, if
it were you and pointing dazzling
round thy sweet view the whole is
this of all the sward; by the
wakened: then new wonders too, Well, she
began to whom I long into
masculine aspyring what
I have ourselves, can I gang brightly
that other meant lay out those least you speakes
for pressure, lo! a turbot for
you, gallants, all becomes into
her mouth, roses gives it in
my hearts are its progress (
for so I swore, sweet side my hand one
muses cold withouten leaves and
go my wandring, Do and where is no
long Canals replied, her sport! to
spin it here: I say so! And Cressid sweet
trembling, and overhear.)
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turbot*x stop emailing me i don’t want to think about t*xes yet
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First weekend dinner of 2022 at the one week old @11woodfire • #11woodfire is the new @akmalanuarofficial restaurant with @atelierhousehospitality celebrating wood-fire cuisine. Everything from the bread to the desserts are cooked on the large custom-made wood-fire grill that serves as the centerpiece of the open kitchen. • The menu has five sections: starters (Land and Sea) sides/vegetables (Botanic Kingdom) seafood (Ocean’s Bounty) prime meats (Heartland) desserts (The Lasting Memory). All are sharing plates which is the best way to taste the menu. They are unlicensed but have creative mocktails and non-alcohol beers and wines on offer. • We chose the sort of ceviche red shrimp with pineapple gazpacho, endive, cilantro with two vegetables: brussel sprouts, seasonal mushrooms, bagna cauda - a new take on this baby cabbage served like a lukewarm salad and the leeks, grapefruit, yam, dill which was like a modern version of the classic leek vinaigrette that almost tasted like a leek “vitello tonnato” because of the creamy dressing. A basket of warm fresh onion-flavored rolls was also served with some salted butter to accompany the starters. • We shared the one kilo black Angus T-bone, perfectly grilled to medium-rare with an amazing char. The other main course we ordered were the gulf white clams with black pepper, oyster sauce - a spicy savory Asian-style dish that we really enjoyed. Since we had already eaten all the vegetables as starters, we asked for a side of grilled asparagus with horseradish scallion cream. (The famous turbot, sea bass and bone marrow were not available last night, more reason for us to return to Woodfire). • Dessert was the burnt Basque cheesecake (available in either cream cheese or goat cheese, we chose the former) - which was a mini caramelized and more solid version of the classic Spanish cheesecake. • A fantastic first dinner out to start the year and a welcome addition to the Dubai restaurant scene. Akmal and @inez07 have done it again. I look forward to many more meals here. Next time I’ll come for lunch or try their weekend breakfast. • #TravelswithaGourmet #TWAGDubai #foodies #foodiesofinstagram #yum #mydubai https://www.instagram.com/travelswithagourmet/p/CYdjc7hqJ_O/?utm_medium=tumblr
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The Crypto Project Has Reached |PMEWORLD
<p> </p>
<p>Especially for our Personality guests the LH Crypto platoon representatives Alexander Smirnov and Antonis Lapos will conduct a number of particular meetings. The meetings will take place in the following metropolises 15 January – Milan, 16 January – Lugano, 17 January – Zurich, 18 January – Geneva, 19 January – Monaco. If you ’re an investor or just staying</p>
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<p>The stylish way to demonstrate the eclipse and inflow of the colorful image positioning options is to nestle them snuggly among an ocean of words. Snare a paddle and let’s get started.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On the content of alignment, it should be noted that druggies can choose from the options of None, Left, Right, and Center. In addition, they also get the options of Thumbnail, Medium, Large & Fullsize. The rest of this paragraph is padding for the sake of seeing the textbook serape around the 150 × 150 image, which is left aligned.</p>
<p>As you can see the should be some space over, below, and to the right of the image. The textbook shouldn't be creeping on the image. Creeping is just not right. Images need breathing room too. Let them speak like you words. Let them do their jobs without any hassle from the textbook. In about one further judgment then, we ’ll <strong><a href="https://pmeworld.io/">PMEPROTOCOL</a></strong> see that the textbook moves from the right of the image down below the image in flawless transition. Again, letting the do it’s thang. Mission fulfilled!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And now we ’re going to shift effects to the right align. Again, there should be plenitude of room over, below, and to the leftism of the image. Just look at him there … Hey joe! Way to gemstone that right side. I do n’t watch what the left aligned image says, you look great. Do n’t let anyone differently tell you else.</p>
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<p> <img class="en-media" src="https://www.evernote.com/shard/s482/res/be1588e1-661f-49db-9b44-582296018984/The%20Crypto%20Project%20Has%20Reached.png" alt="" name="be1588e1-661f-49db-9b44-582296018984" /></p>
<p>And just when you allowed we were done, we ’re going to do them each over again with captions!</p>
<p>.</p>
<p>As you can see the should be some space over, below, and to the right of the image. The textbook shouldn't be creeping on the image. Creeping is just not right. Images need breathing room too. Let them speak like you words. Let them do their jobs without any hassle from the textbook. In about one further judgment then, we ’ll <strong><a href="https://pmeworld.io/">World's first Entertainment Cryptocurrency</a></strong> see that the textbook moves from the right of the image down below the image in flawless transition. Again, letting the do it’s thang. Mission fulfilled!</p>
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