A gay haul. đ
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@patervulpis
A gay haul. đ

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i haven't been that active in the lil while anyways, but i'm heading to dc with my gf @dominavulpis for a week!
Talk dirty like an 18th century English Gentleman
Lovers
Goat; Hell-born Babe; Hell Hound; Man of the Town; Rake; Rakehell; Rakeshame; Town Bull ~ Lecher or lewd and debauched fellow
Corinthian ~ frequenter of brothels
Dark Cully ~ A married man who keeps a mistress and creeps to her in the night for fear of discovery
Coltâs Tooth ~ An old fellow, who marries or keeps a young girl, is said to have a âcoltâs toothâ in his head.
Mutton Monger ~ Man addicted to wenching; also a sheep stealer.
Top Diver ~ Lover of women
Buck Fitch ~ A lecherous old fellow
Take a Slice ~ To intrigue, particularly with a married woman, because a slice off a cut loaf is not missed.
Brothels
Academy; Buttocking Shop; Cavaulting School; Civil Reception House; Corinth; Nanny House; Nugging House; Punch House; Pushing School; School of Venus; Seraglio; Smuggling Ken; Snoozing Ken; Bawdyhouse ~ A brothel
Molly House ~ âbrothelâ where men could have sex with each other, was more of a club than a bawdyhouse.
Fight in Armour ~ Use a Condom.
Madams and Pimps
Abbess; Aunt; Bawd; Buttock Broker; Covent Garden Abbess; Mackerel; Madam Van; Mother; She-Napper ~ Madam
Beard Splitter; Brother of the Gussett; Bull; Cock Bawd; Gap-Stopper; Stallion ~ Pimp
Pimp Whiskin ~ Top flight pimp
Prostitutes
Convenient; Left-handed Wife; Miss; Natural Rum Blower ~ Mistress
Barberâs Chair; Blowen; Bob-tail; Burick; Buttock; Cat; Covent Garden Nun; Crack; Drury Lane Vestal; Family of Love; Fen; Giggler; Laced Mutton; Light Frigate; Merry Arsed Christian; Mab; Mob; Moll; Mott; One of my Cousins; Punk; Trull; Woman of the Town; Wagtail ~ Prostitute
Wasp ~ An infected prostitute (i.e. with a sting in the tail)
Drab; Quean ~ Lower class prostitute
Bat ~ Low class prostitute, so-called because she moves out in the dusk
Buttock and File ~ Prostitute who is also a pickpocket
Buttock and Twang; Down Buttock and Sham File ~ Prostitute who is specifically NOT a pickpocket
Case Vrow ~ Prostitute attached to a particular brothel
Fancy Man; Petticoat Pensioner; Stallion ~ A man kept by a lady for secret services.
Bunter ~ A low, dirty prostitute, half whore, half beggar.
Covey ~ Collective noun for prostitutes
Socket Money ~ a fee for the services of a prostitute.
Sex
Basket Making; Blanket Hornpipe; Buttock Ball; Dance the Goatâs Jig; Dock; Hump; Jock; Lib; Moll Peatlyâs Gig; Occupy; Playing the Rantum-Scantum; Prig; Relish; Rut; Screw; Strap; Stroke; Shag; Strum; Swive; Tiff; Touch up; Tup; Two handed put; Vault; Wap ~ Copulate
Blow off the Loose Corns ~Occasional sex
Box the Jesuit; Toss off ~ Masturbate
Back Door Usher; Back Gammon Player; Indorser; Madge Cull; Molly; Navigator of the Southward Passage ~ Those who indulge in sodomy.
Blow off the Groundsils ~ Have sex on the floor or stairs
Buttered Bun ~ Lying with a woman who has just lain with another man
Chuck ~ To show propensity or interest in a man
Flogging Cully ~ An old lecher who, to stimulate himself to venery, causes himself to be whipped with rods.
Take a Flyer ~ To enjoy a woman with her clothes on, or without going to bed.
Made a Duchess ~ Said of a woman having sex where one or both parties are wearing boots or shoes.
Riding the Dragon; Riding Rantipole; The Dragon Upon St. George ~ Sex with a woman on top
Keeping Cully ~ One that maintains a mistress.
Clicket ~ A term for the copulation of foxes, adopted for referring to sex.
Source.
he was unsure what drove his words. normally he wasnât half as candid in his admiration - not in words at least, certainly it was obvious in his actions. alcohol would seem like a viable impetus if he wasnât sure he hadnât drank anything more than a glass of wine at lunch. â no sir. â pierreâs smile was minuscule, crooked from the scar running across his mouth, and he stared down towards his feet with hands wringing behind his back. it was nigh impossible not to be bashful when standing in front of napoleon. to be even tepidly entertained by him like a child begging for attention, he thought, was an honor he did not deserve. â i do not drink unless at a meal, and i know who i am talking about. â
continued from here with @corsicangeneral

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FATHER FOX.
independent. semi-selective. multimuse. written by dad. est. 01/02/2018. muses from history, theater, literature, television, webseries, & gaming.
reminder that after lewis (probably) killed himself seaman starved to death at his grave because he wouldnât leave the spot or eat
DESMOULINSC
    it is always easier to hate a child when you have never met them, he thinks, and to make them a character in your journal that is filled with the same qualities of the most hated man in france. there is natural sympathy, too much feeling. camille kneels. âexcept it was only a dream.â
broken silence makes his young throat croak and groan like the heavy door to his chamber. he hasn't spoken in weeks, the only sounds past his lips those he cannot control - whimpers, screams, groans. he is tired and thirsty, yet he will not eat or drink, too eager to die to slow the process by maintaining good health like a dog being walked on a leash, obediently scarfing down burnt food and even more burning alcohol until his mind spins and he cannot remember anything but brief flashes of women and men he does not recognize.
â it was not a dream. â the little king considers camille, the only hint of emotion on his face a glint of fear. too close, not close enough. he should lift charles up and drag him off to the same guillotine that had executed his father, he should go away, he should drown him in brandy. â blood on your mouth, â he utters quietly before turning back to his table.
â The adorkable King Louis XVIÂ â

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ROBESPIERREM
âAn awfully colorful choice of words there, Louis Capet.â Maximilien will not even give him the respect that is due, but what respect left is there to even give? âI feel as if you know what your fate is going to be, regardless of the trial. Itâs all for show.â And as much as Maximilien abhors the death penalty, well, what can he do?
He fidgets with his glasses nervously. The air between them is tense. âAre you willing to accept it, though?â
the smile he wears is strained, thin. stone rests cold at his back, warmth lost to what he knows will be infinity. never again will he rest by the fire with marie after a hunt, a child on either knee and gilded furniture glinting, lurid, in the flicker of dim light. louis is not a stupid man. he knows that every intention is to hoist his head on a pike before the age of forty, and that what men are willing to defend him in the oncoming âtrialâ will fail no matter how compelling their arguments. yet he is the corrupt one... certainly. â sir, i am at peace with god. he knows my innocence. â and may he watch over desèze as well. his competence is not doubted, but the same cannot be said of his fate after the trial. louis only hopes the man will be safe. pale eyes lift to robespierre, blue shining in the dim light.
â shall i grovel and beg against the blade, knowing it will only bring you joy to watch? â
OTEMPCRAOMCRES
Oh.
Nate blinks a few times, a light blush staining his cheeks as he laughs nervously. Oh, thatâsâwell. Heâs not really used to the attention. âFriedrich, thenâum. Itâs nice to finally meet you. âM glad you got here safely! Weâre all really grateful for your help.â Any help he and his soldiers and people can get is..more than what he deserves, he thinks.Â
Clearing his throat, he gently pulls his hands out of the otherâs grasp, cheeks still burning. âIs there anything I can do for you to help you get comfortable here?â
his chest aches with want at the weak trill of laughter, and he allows nathan to withdraw his hand. was he so flustered by only that much? friedrich was no idle flatterer, he believed what he said to be true, even if motives were perhaps less than perfectly noble. â i thank you. your men in portsmouth are exceedingly prudent; i should think no englishman shall ever be safe there. it is good, even if galling to be detained. â nevermind that the americans were perhaps doing him a greater service than the other way round. the officers in portsmouth were simply mistaken, those after him in france could have him hanged if they wished - and if he had stayed.
arms fold behind his back as he straightens - height is unimpressive, but the presence that seems to radiate off of him is compensation enough for as much. â ah, perhaps you could simply keep me company. there is no one better equipped to educate me on the modi operandi here, and i have no doubt they are much different from those in europe, yes? â stratagem develops quickly within a sharp mind. he is positively machiavellian, though to his credit he means no harm - the baron is prompted merely by an urge to have whatever exquisitely featured young man he should stumble upon clad only in furs and visible only to him. he should not be faulted for as much.
HAMILTONBUTWORSE
George sighed softly, shaking his head. âIâm getting old, son.â He looked at their hands and a small but fond smile made its way to his lips. He stood, letting his hand fall from Davidâs grasp as he crossed his arms behind his back. âThen itâs settled.â He stated simply, as if that small moment of, whatever it was, never happened. âYouâll move your office into here.â He pointed at a desk off to the side. âThatâll be your new desk. Decorate it as you please.â He smiled, holding out his hand for him to shake. âItâll be a pleasure. And I donât have enough words to tell you how truly thankful I am that youâre willing to help.â
old? washington wasn't that old; certainly not enough so to begin ant sort of decline. besides, he could not imagine his boss as anything other than a powerful presence. even if he lived to one hundred, david was certain he would never become a feeble man lying in bed. no, washington was more akin to a wine, becoming stronger and more palatable with every passing year.
his boss rose, and eyes brimming with plaudit followed movements. the offer hardly processed for a few long moments, and thoughout the silence david could feel his jaw hanging. â i... â any articulation died on his lips, sufficiently astounded into silence. it was a remarkably difficult to steal david's voice, yet he couldn't say that he was surprised that washington accomplished as much. a few heartbeats of recovery passed before his head lifted to look up at the older man. he rose instantly, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, to firmly clasp george's extended hand. â i swear on my life you will not regret giving me this responsibility. i will make you proud, mister washington. â

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1776 starter sentences
âWell, think of it, to be married to the man who is always the first in line to be hanged!â
âA second flood, a simple famine, plagues of locusts everywhere, or a cataclysmic earthquake, Iâd accept with some despair. But no, You sent us Congress! Good God, Sir, was that fair?â
âI have come to the conclusion that one useless man is called a disgrace; that two are called a law firm, and that three or more become a Congress!â
âA whole week! The entire earth was created in a week!â
âA rebellion is always legal in the first person, such as "our rebellion.â It is only in the third person - âtheir rebellionâ - that it becomes illegal.â
"She is your wife, isnât she?â
âMust you start banging? How is a man to sleep?â
âMust you start speaking? How is a man to stay awake?â
âNot everybodyâs from Boston.â
âWhat are you staring at? Havenât you ever seen a great man before?â
âMost men with nothing would rather protect the possibility of becoming rich than face the reality of being poor.â
âTreason is a charge invented by winners as an excuse for hanging the losers.â
âWill you be a patriot? Or a lover?â
âIs anybody there?⌠Does anybody care?⌠Does anybody see⌠what I see?â
âThere are only two creatures of value on the face of this earth - those with a commitment and those who require the commitment of others.â
âAt my age thereâs little doubt that the pen is mightier than the sword.â
âIncredible, weâre free and he hasnât even left yet!â
âGood God, consider yourselves fortunate that you have me to abuse, for no sane man would tolerate it!â
âDear Sir, you are without any doubt, a rogue, a rascal, a villain, a thief, a scoundrel, and a mean, dirty, stinking, sniveling, sneaking, pimping, pocket-picking, thrice double-damned no-good son of a bitch.â
âGood God, what a bastardly bunch we are.â
âI have such a desire to knock heads together!â
âItâs the latest thing from Europe. Itâs called music.â
âWhy have you joined this⌠incendiary little man, this radical? This demagogue, this madman?â
âWell, in all my years I ainât never heard, seen nor smelled an issue that was so dangerous it couldnât be talked about.â
âThey speak very fast and very loud, and nobody listens to anybody else, with the result that nothing ever gets done.â
âThis is a revolution, dammit! Weâre going to have to offend somebody!"Â
LGANDARIES
 she wished this whole ordeal was just a nightmare, and sheâd awake in the morning, lying next to her husband. but it wasnât a nightmare. alexander had been reckless, and didnât take arguments too well. he had promised her he would be back.. but then came that phone call. accepting the embrace, she looks down, fresh tears running down her face.
â he thought of you like a father.. â
this home smelled of him, ghosts lingering within its walls already. it was tempting to scream and curse into the stagnant air towards alexander, to shout that he never had to go through with something like this, to say this was precisely what he had warned against. it would be no use. after losing most of his family, and many of them within his youth, he was well versed enough to know that screaming to nothing, or even to god, brought no one back. his brothers and sisters, both half and of full blood, his mother and father, his closest childhood friends, the men he had led to their own dooms, his stepson and daughter... all lost, and now alexander was among their ranks. a stygian outlook had often been criticized, but he believed it was justified. there was little solace, but with elizabeth in his arms he found at least some peace. he squeezed the woman to himself with great care, and tired eyes accented by harsh circles close. â and i thought of him as a son, â he whispered. he was a good man, an imperfect man, a stupid man and a wise man. that had been the duality of alexander hamilton.