An ostrich carries billboards through the streets of Berlin in 1938

Willy Pragher ~ Vogel Strauß trägt Reklamehalter durch die Straßen, 10 Juni 1938. | src Landesarchiv Baden-Württemberg

Bird Power. Undated RPPC of a man sitting in an ostrich-drawn carriage. https://markonpark.etsy.com/listing/1693675839

For @softchonk since you asked for more vampire cowboys 🤠💫 Hope you enjoy!

Part Two: Outlaws Of Santa Carla (The Lost Boys Fanfiction/Western American AU Fanfiction) 🤠🦇✨🖤

Dwayne didn't know the future.

Yet those who thought that he truly could read a set of well illustrated divination cards bought into his predictions. 

The stagecoach driver would find gold.

The rich woman with the hideous ostrich feather hat would birth the child of a millionaire who would come to invest in the biggest cattle stock of the US. 

Overwhelmed with fool's joy, they'd bought it and allowed him on the stage passing through the outskirts of Santa Carla, the current location of the man that caused most of the bitter hatred that lived in his heart for the mass majority of his depressing childhood, wishing to know more about his heritage.

"Where are you from, Mister?" The rich woman he believed that he heard being addressed as Clara leans in, elbows dug deep into the fine silk and cloth fabric of her skirt. Her golden curls fall from her bun. 

He didn't want to explain the complicated details out of fear that his cover might be blown. He was a lost boy after all, a runaway but what would it matter if he was approaching eighteen in only two days. The mystery that being under the guise gave him was too good to forfeit now. Mystery would be his friend. 

Clara reminded him much of the women who would show up to his orphanage in the place of their husbands, parading about in handsome gowns and fake smiles that came at cost of having their names broadcasted in the daily print. He was never adopted simply because of his refusal to conform to their standards, to rid himself of the heritage, of blood that he knew was inside of him. He was of indigenous descent and wanted to know more. He refused to cut his hair and be like them. There was no way that he would allow them to take that from him. 

"Does it matter where I come from if I know where I'm going?" Dwayne had taught himself how to make his voice as soft as duck's down, wrapping all those who listened to him in his binds. "For people like me, we go where our intuition drives us."

"I suppose." She winks her eye, the aquamarine eyeshadow shimmering in the light of the sun.

Dwayne turns towards the glass outlook, curling his fingers into the metal. The stage was far from what he was used too as the bars and glass reminded him of a cell and the gentle rocking shifting to massive bumps giving him the premonition that he's on a boat about to sink. Outside, long gone was the endless slopes of golden sand and stretches of nothing as it had become healthy grass patches, tall fences and uniquely American architecture. Pristine white houses dot the land, horses who've never missed a meal and children running and playing among the gathering of pine trees.

"Do you suppose that I'll birth a boy and girl?" 

Dwayne doesn't draw his eyes from the beauty of the higher class homes, their dream worthy drawn carriages and the pastel colors that kiss the eyes. It's all so beautiful, yet, none of it seemed to call him like an outside looking in. 

Clara clears her throat pressing against her cameo choker. 

"The child will be a female."

"Then who will keep up with the investment?" She tries to hide the panic in her voice at such a revelation. "A woman bidding in stocks or keeping up with the numbers in cattle. How preposterous."

"She will be strong enough to handle it." Though he could know less about what the future holds, he felt a burn of annoyance at the woman's thinking. 

Determined, Clara pushes against Dwayne. "Maybe I will try and by the grace of God, he'll allow me a son. Just like in the good book with Moses and Hannah."

Dwayne lifts his chin, hair falling in sheets from around his neck. "Tarot isn't known to run hand and hand with the bible. You will bear no sons."

"Maybe you should give the cards another read, just for the sake of-."

The stagecoach jolts back, nearly knocking him clean from his seat. The driver gives a sharp yell, stopping the horses as they snort and pull against him, kicking their hooves on the ground in an odd rage. 

"Just because a male is born it doesn't mean that he won't be an addlehead."

Dwayne stands up, tipping his hat to the lady who doesn't say another word. Her eyebrows knit as the predictions of Dwayne of being a millionaire's wife seem to no longer carry as much weight as heavy as birthing a daughter. 

"Be careful who you trust and the very best of luck to you, whatever you do with your fortune."

Leaving out the red door with nothing but a pack of cards and a will to find where he belongs, a strong fear fills him as he watches the horses in their madness, pulling and pushing with a strength that he never witnessed among the animals. The stagecoach driver seemed too focused on his whip, yelling demands that seem to carry no weight to say his goodbyes. 

"What is this?" Dwayne, confused, steps onto the dust street. Instead of a home sits a building bigger than any he'd seen his life. This was no home, it couldn't be. He had heard rumors that his father was wealthy, but this wealthy? This madness!

Massive stone walls arch towards the hills, dipping below in the distance. Gargoyles hang above three stories of large windows plastered against brick walls. Pillars hold lions snarling at the entry gate that hold not a single crack or error. Perfection. 

A shadow appears from the base of the gate, towering above Ambrose from behind the bars. "What brings you here to Atlantis Hotel?"

Dwayne's entire being could be swallowed up in the man's shadow, his face pressed into his skull and eyes huge. Meeting his eyes, he could melt in both the man's harsh glare and the heat of the summer sun.

"I'm looking for someone."

The guard's eyes knit together. "So is every other man."

"But I am the exception, Sir. I have coin to pay for my stay while I go about my adventures finding this special someone in their child's game of hide and seek." 

"Coin?" The man barks. "You'll need more than a coin to get in here."

Dwayne smiles, trying to recall all the smooth interactions that he had seen men in the town use to make the bartenders give them free refills. Even if it doesn't work, he would have to try something.

"Of course." Dwayne places his fingers through the gate bars. "Coin is simply play money for men like me."

"You mean boys?" 

Ambrose reaches into his pocket, revealing a rolled up fold of money. The roll, despite being large, wasn't filled with money but playing cards covered by one dollar bills. 

The man's eyes nearly bulge at the sight. 

"It isn't much but for some men this would be much more than poker money."  He had repeated the entire conversation from something that he had overheard before on the streets between the cry of buggies wheels and horses. 

 The gates open and like a charm, Dwayne walks through the gates. With a flick of the brown tie that binds the money together, he frees a few dollars bills won from an earlier game at the last saloon he'd visited. It wasn't much but enough to buy him a room for the next day. Enough to help him find his father.

"We have beaches." The large man drones on, his sharp and overbearing attitude long gone. 

"That is Santa Carla's speciality." Dwayne says blankly. 

"And great fishing waters if that is much to your liking." 

Dwayne stops, his eyes surveying the man. He has the upper hand now. "Do not kiss the ground that I walk on. I am not the president but a mere man blessed with money. Know your worth." 

"Of course." The man pauses before lifting his finger to gather Dwayne's attention again. "Have you heard about the vampires that roam this town?" 

Dwayne, drawn in by the silliness of the statement laughs. "Yes. I am one of them."

The design of the inside is far beyond his dreams. 

Everything is more grand than the next, striking him as more of something that belongs to the future rather than the present of 1870. He couldn't find the words to describe the anger raging inside of him at the sight. 

This is what my father owns. This is what he had and he pushed me away because of who my kin is, because of who he once loved. He was ashamed for nothing. 

"Greetings, new commer." A voice calls from the top of the staircase. "You look quite young to be here. Rich father? Mother inherited a will or something more?

Nothing stands among the gold railing. A cold wisp of air swings past Ambrose, drawing him back. Taking a stance against whatever it could be, the owner of the voice lays idly against the counter of the lobby, pale blue eyes looking out. White blonde hair glows in the light of a oil lit scone in the shape of a majestic lion. A rather handsome young man, but it was no way that he could be older than him.

Definitely not who I'm looking for. He thought with disappointment. 

"Cat has your tongue?" He croons, his voice deep. 

Dwayne shakes his head. "No. I'm just taking in the designs." 

"Really?" He turns his head, pushing his hands into the pockets of his tartan button up to revel a short writing quill. 

Dwayne felt a burning sink through his chest. This person was toying with him.

"My name is David and yours?" He asks, reaching for a gold bound notepad.

"Dwayne."

David snickers. "Surely you have a last name?"

"I do." 

"What might it be?"

"Stephans."

David smiles with his teeth, lowering his eyes in a near animalistic way. "You share a last name with our owner, Dwayne."

Dwayne could bite through his lip. "What a coincidence." 

The Engineer's Thumb pt 3

Last we left off, Mr Victor Hatherley, hydraulic engineer and secret giant panda, was accounting how he had ignored very clear and present warnings, almost been crushed to death, had his thumb hacked off by a cleaver and very likely contracted sepsis in a ghost house.

“Here is an advertisement which will interest you,” said he. “It appeared in all the papers about a year ago. Listen to this: “‘Lost, on the 9th inst., Mr. Jeremiah Hayling, aged twenty-six, a hydraulic engineer. Left his lodgings at ten o'clock at night, and has not been heard of since.'"

RIP Mr Hayling. I hope you died quickly and not in the squishing chamber.

"It is quite clear that the colonel was a cool and desperate man,"

But is he actually a colonel? That's the real question.

There were Sherlock Holmes, the hydraulic engineer, Inspector Bradstreet, of Scotland Yard, a plain-clothes man, and myself.

Ah yes, my dear companions: Sherlock Holmes, Inspector Bradstreet, and *checks hands*... a hydraulic engineer.

How come Victor doesn't get a name here? Hey, ACD, did you forget a character's name in the middle of a story and just couldn't be bothered to look a few paragraphs upwards? I get that Ctrl+F wasn't possible back then, but these short stories aren't that long.

“And you think that they brought you back all that way when you were unconscious?”

I am 90% sure they did not touch him while he was unconscious, they just took him on the carriage in one big circle until they were right back near the station again, and he just woke up where he fell.

“Oh, we shall soon clear up all that,” said Bradstreet. “Well, I have drawn my circle, and I only wish I knew at what point upon it the folk that we are in search of are to be found.”

Right in the middle. Bet you. I mean, you're a fictional character and even if you weren't this was over a century ago. But I bet you metaphysically.

“Oh, yes, you can. This is my point.” He placed his finger in the centre of the circle. “This is where we shall find them.” “But the twelve-mile drive?” gasped Hatherley.

Knew it! Also, ACD remembered Victor's surname, excellent. Very proud of you! He's been really carefully ignoring it for the last few paragraphs, just not using dialogue tags or saying 'my patient'. Took a minute, but he got there.

“None at all,” said Holmes. “They are coiners on a large scale, and have used the machine to form the amalgam which has taken the place of silver.”

Hey, and I was right about what they were doing. Boom.

Interesting thought... did Hatherley realise this when he was poking around in the press and found the metallic deposits? Because his whole 'I'd like to talk to you about your Fuller's Earth' thing, if he knew about the forgery, sounds a little like 'Hey, how about you cut me in on this', or maybe the opening stages of some blackmailing.

But I'm maligning his character with no evidence. I just wish I knew how he thought that was going to play out. Was he dumb enough to think that nothing illegal was going on? But if he knew something illegal was going on, why call them out on it like that.

But the inspector was mistaken, for those criminals were not destined to fall into the hands of justice.

Again? Holmes has to be the least successful literary detective of all time when it comes to actually catching criminals. Was there not even a convenient shipwreck this time? Although it makes sense they wouldn't stick around when Hatherley's run off with enough information and evidence to get them caught.

As we rolled into Eyford Station we saw a gigantic column of smoke which streamed up from behind a small clump of trees in the neighbourhood and hung like an immense ostrich feather over the landscape.

So, either they're burning the evidence, or they've accidentally burnt themselves to death and that's why they didn't come after Victor - because they were too busy being on fire.

“Dr. Becher's.” “Tell me,” broke in the engineer, “is Dr. Becher a German, very thin, with a long, sharp nose?” The station-master laughed heartily. “No, sir, Dr. Becher is an Englishman..."

Becher certainly looks more like a Germanic name than an English name. Also, is this guy really a doctor? And if he's a medical doctor and he lives right next door, then why didn't the station guard last night see Hatherley's bleeding thumbless hand and say 'oh, there's a doctor just 'round the corner. You should have him take a look at that!'

I'm a little confused on the timeline, too. This is all the same day, right. They leave for Berkshire 3 hours after Mr Hatherley finishes his tale, which he tells on the same day he arrives on the train after having lost his thumb. So last night, when the building was on fire, was the night when he was first unconscious, and then sitting at the station waiting for a train. The fire should have been visible from the station if it's that close, and Hatherley didn't get on a train until the morning, so... did no one notice the fire right next door, or did they just not care?

Maybe the fire just wasn't big enough to be seen during the night, so no one outside noticed it until after Victor had left in the morning. Doesn't explain why the guard didn't suggest Victor take his missing thumb to the nearby medical professional, though.

"There can be no question that it was your oil-lamp which, when it was crushed in the press, set fire to the wooden walls, though no doubt they were too excited in the chase after you to observe it at the time."

I forgot about the oil lamp. It's doing a pretty good job of getting rid of the evidence, though.

Early that morning a peasant had met a cart containing several people and some very bulky boxes driving rapidly in the direction of Reading.

Was the word 'peasant' still used in the 1890s? Really? It's a very medieval/dark ages kind of word.

It should at least take them a while to set up again. They're going to need to build another person-squishing machine, and given that they're clearly not very good at hydraulics, I assume they have to kidnap someone to do that for them. Or maybe they just have a diagram that they can follow, but they don't know how it works. And they've left behind all the raw materials, so they'll have to get their hands on that again.

The firemen had been much perturbed at the strange arrangements which they had found within, and still more so by discovering a newly severed human thumb upon a window-sill of the second floor.

The firemen are very sensible people. Although I find it weird that the thumb survived on the windowsill, given that fire was billowing out of the windows in the description earlier.

How our hydraulic engineer had been conveyed from the garden to the spot where he recovered his senses might have remained forever a mystery were it not for the soft mould, which told us a very plain tale. He had evidently been carried down by two persons, one of whom had remarkably small feet and the other unusually large ones. On the whole, it was most probable that the silent Englishman, being less bold or less murderous than his companion, had assisted the woman to bear the unconscious man out of the way of danger.

OK, so they did move him. I was pretty sure that they just didn't find him and he was too out of it on blood loss and adrenaline to know where he'd ended up. Mainly this seems like a really stupid thing for them to do, though. Clearly they've already killed one hydraulics engineer, leaving Victor alive to run away and tell people seems kind of dumb at this point. Obviously not murdering people is the right thing to do, but in this situation it's also a dumb move. No one worked out you killed the last one... eh, what's one more?

“Well,” said our engineer ruefully as we took our seats to return once more to London, “it has been a pretty business for me! I have lost my thumb and I have lost a fifty-guinea fee, and what have I gained?” “Experience,” said Holmes, laughing. “Indirectly it may be of value, you know; you have only to put it into words to gain the reputation of being excellent company for the remainder of your existence.”

#LifeLessons #LearningExperience

Such a fun story of how he was almost crushed to death and had his thumb chopped off by violent criminals who are still at large!

Yeah, that'll get people to buy you drinks, for sure. Although as previously discussed, you probably won't be alive to enjoy them. And you're going to have to relearn how to do things with only one opposable thumb if you don't die of sepsis. But maybe next time someone tries to warn you three times to not do something, you'll actually listen. Or you can get enough XP to increase your wisdom score and not end up in a situation like this again.

I wonder how many other hydraulic engineers Fritz went on to murder. It was probably fine.

Poster by an unknown artist for the 24th annual Tournament of Roses Parade in Pasadena, California. The first Tournament of Roses was held on January 1, 1890 by members of Pasadena's Valley Hunt Club, former residents of the East and Midwest eager to showcase their new home's mild winter weather.

"In New York, people are buried in snow," announced Professor Charles F. Holder at a Club meeting. "Here our flowers are blooming and our oranges are about to bear. Let's hold a festival to tell the world about our paradise."

Horse drawn carriages decorated with flowers were the main attraction of the parade. During the next few years, the festival expanded to include marching bands and equestrian units, and the horse drawn carriages were replaced by motorized floats. The games on the town lot (which was re-named Tournament Park in 1900) included ostrich races, bronco busting demonstrations and a race between a camel and an elephant (the elephant won). Reviewing stands were built along the Parade route, and Eastern newspapers began to take notice of the event. In 1895, the Tournament of Roses Association was formed to take charge of the festival, which had grown too large for the Valley Hunt Club to handle.

In 1902, the Tournament of Roses decided to enhance the day’s festivities by adding a football game – the first post season college football game ever held. Stanford University accepted the invitation to take on the powerhouse University of Michigan, but the West Coast team was flattened 49-0 and gave up in the third quarter. The lopsided score prompted the Tournament to give up football in favor of Roman-style chariot races.  The first Pasadena woman to fly in an airplane was Miss Jean French, the 1913 Rose Queen, according to the Pasadena Daily News of January 3, 1913. She said, "Aviating is a glorious experience." They reached a height of 1,800 feet over the northeastern part of the city.

Family-Friendly Fun: Activities for Kids in Solvang

Solvang, located in the Santa Ynez Valley, welcomes families with attractive Danish-inspired architecture, excellent bakeries, and various activities for children of all ages. From colorful museums to outdoor experiences, Solvang has several family-friendly activities that will grab young hearts and leave lasting memories.

Hans Christian Andersen Museum

Enter the realm of fairy tales at the Hans Christian Andersen Museum, which honors the Danish storyteller's timeless tales. Interactive exhibitions, tale readings, and displays of Andersen's great works captivate youngsters, encouraging imagination and a love of books.

Sunny Fields Park

Sunny Fields Park stands out as an ideal location for children to burn off some energy. The playground, complete with swings, slides, and climbing platforms, provides hours of entertainment. Families may have picnics in the covered areas or play friendly activities on the large grassy fields.

The Ultimate Escape Rooms

Enjoy the excitement of The Ultimate Escape Rooms in Solvang as a family activity. Engage in immersive challenges and puzzles that will delight and engage young brains. Collaborate to solve puzzles and uncover adventures under a time constraint, developing collaboration and problem-solving abilities.

Solvang Trolley & Carriage Rides

Take a lovely tour of Solvang on the Solvang Trolley or by horse-drawn carriage. Kids enjoy the novelty of these forms of transportation as they explore the town's gorgeous streets and learn about its Danish past.

The Wildling Museum

The Wildling Museum is a must-see for wildlife lovers. Engaging exhibitions showcase wildlife and landscapes, enabling youngsters to appreciate nature via art and interactive displays.

Copenhagen Drive

Take a stroll down Copenhagen Drive, the center of Solvang. Kids will enjoy browsing the distinctive shops, which include specialist toy stores, candy shops full of sweets, and eccentric boutiques selling entertaining gifts.

Hans Christian Andersen Park

Hans Christian Andersen Park, named after the well-known Danish author, features playgrounds, picnic spots, and plenty of room for recreational activities. The park's picturesque windmill and lush foliage create a tranquil environment for family trips.

Quicksilver Miniature Horse Ranch

The Quicksilver Little Horse Ranch, located just a short drive from Solvang, captivates young guests with its charming little horses. The ranch provides excursions in which children may engage with these lovely creatures and learn about their care.

Ostrichland USA

Ostrichland USA, located just a picturesque drive away in nearby Buellton, provides an uncommon yet intriguing experience. Children may feed these amazing creatures, examine their behavior, and discover intriguing information about ostriches.

Solvang Park

Solvang Park, located in the middle of downtown, acts as a hub of activity. Families may have a leisurely picnic, relax on the lawn, or let their children play on the playground while taking in the town's Danish atmosphere.

Wheel Fun Rentals

Wheel Fun Rentals rents bicycles, surreys, and pedal vehicles, so you may explore Solvang at your leisure. Pedal around tree-lined lanes, taking in the fresh air and gorgeous surroundings, for a great family trip.

Solvang's combination of cultural attractions and family-friendly activities guarantees a wonderful experience for both youngsters and parents. Solvang, with its broad choice of interactive attractions and gorgeous surroundings, encourages families to make unforgettable memories while visiting this lovely Danish town. If you are looking for a fun activity that involves puzzles, tricky games, etc. with your friends, The Ultimate Escape Rooms is the best option. They offer things to do in Solvang, a family-friendly adventure in Solvang. Call 805-857-0777 or write to [email protected] to book an appointment.

OCs as obscure references!

the absolutely wonderful @aevallare tagged me, thank you so much!!

I'm sorry the picture is like that, my laptop simply will not screenshot bg3 no matter how much i beg

name: Kira Tavena

animal: cat!

colors: ice blue, dark green, bronze

month: Marpenoth (Faerun October, im annoying sorry)

songs:

not strong enough -- boygenuis

call me little sunshine -- ghost

little dark age -- mgmt

number: 3

plants: Ostrich fern, water hyacinth

smells: vanilla and peppercorn. and probably also wet dirt.

gemstone: opal

time of day: sunset

season: fall

places: waterfalls, clearings in the woods, anywhere you can curl up with a book

food: bread, peaches, parmesan cheese with raspberry jam

drinks: hot tea with too much sugar, white wine

element: water

astrological sign: libra

seasonings: cinnamon, onion powder, pepper

sky: overcast

weather: rain!

magical powers: wild magic sorcery and druid magic 

weapons: dagger or quarterstaff

social media: probably......... tumblr............

make up product: eyebrow pencil. larian please let me fill in her brows she needs it look at her

candy: Werther's originals. I know this sounds like a joke but she would genuinely like them. she and withers would share a bag.

method of long distance travel: train if offered all modern options, but she's canonically a horse-drawn carriage girlie

art style: botanical illustrations or art nouveau

fear: being left behind/abandoned

mythological creature: phoenix

piece of stationery: a wax seal stamp with a fern on it

three emojis: 🙃💥🫠

celestial body: Charon

I have no earthly idea who to tag but this was very fun so-- if you're seeing this and you want to do it, consider yourself tagged! tell me about your ocs i want to knowww

List Of Things To Do In Mysore For A Wonderful Time

Mysore is a perfect blend of the old and the new. Its heritage is obvious in its palaces and other attractions, but it has also successfully integrated modern amenities. And though it may seem slow-paced to some, there's plenty to do if you can explore beyond the obvious. We've put together a list of things to do in Mysore.

Experience Royalty at Mysore Palace:

Mysore is known for its palaces and the Ambavilas Palace is one of the most famous. It's a royal residence of the Wadiyar Dynasty, built in the Indo-Saracenic style of architecture, and it's a popular tourist attraction in Mysore. On Sunday nights and holidays, the palace is illuminated and it's an amazing sight to behold.

Appreciate Art at Jaganmohan Palace:

The Jaganmohan Palace, though less well-known than the Mysore Palace, is just as magnificent. It was converted into an art gallery in 1915, and ever since then it has enchanted art lovers and tourists alike. Artworks by renowned artists from India and across the globe, such as Raja Ravi Varma, Rabindranath Tagore, S.L. Haldankar, Nikolai Roerich, Aless Caddy, P.P. Ruben, and Jiladin Ville hang on its walls.

Stroll around in Brindavan Gardens:

If you're looking for romantic things to do in Mysore, start at the Brindavan Gardens. Pristine gardens, cool breezes and a sense of calm––all make the setting perfect for a stroll with your partner. These 150 acres of lush greenery are one of the city's biggest attractions and even if you're just enjoying a ride on the lake, these gardens are a must-see. The highlight is definitely the dancing fountain, best appreciated at night when live music accompanies its graceful movements.

Ride the Tonga:

The open-air tonga is a horse-drawn carriage that has become a tourist attraction in Mysore, India. You can take one for a tour of the city, including its famous palace, clock tower and other attractions.

Visit the Mysore Zoo for a Wild Streak:

Mylapore Zoo, or Sri Chamarajendra Zoological Gardens, is the oldest and best-maintained zoo in all of India. It's also a great place for children and wildlife enthusiasts alike: you can spot a variety of animals in their natural habitat here, including white tigers and nilgai as well as ostriches and emus.

Looking for one of the best mysore tour packages? Wonderworldtravels can help you find the best one! We provide end-to-end travel planning & a wide range of Mysore tour packages to suite your budget. 

Hermes Belt Dimension Chart Males & Ladies Buying Tips Specialists' Guide

Here are three of their extra "standard" belts which might swimsuit a lot of guys. Hermes provides a selection of belts for males of every style. They have some that appear to be a really "standard" belt from any brand . There are so many types, from conservative to fashionable, that you are sure to discover a style that suits him. Interest will be charged to your account from the purchase date if the steadiness isn't paid in full within 6 months. Minimum monthly funds are required. Will usually ship within 3 business days of receiving cleared cost. Please enter a quantity less than or equal to 1. The vendor has not specified a delivery methodology to Germany. The “H” ought to be formed with premium-quality finishing and no scratch marks, with a heavy feeling in your arms. The edges will never be bubbled, chipped or otherwise blemished. Swift in vermillion and chamonix in chocolat reversible with Constance buckle in 24mm. The belt is from Maison CHANEL. It is manufactured from beige suede including the enduring CC symbol manufactured from pale gold toe steel and adorned with rhinestones. The piece is in superb condition... The chain of the belt / necklace is made from metal gilded with nice gold. The Stitching on an genuine Hermès belt might be perfectly straight, without nicks or imperfections when it's new. Every thread might be in place, it’s easy to see the evenness of every stitch and that none of them are break up. I searched and didn't find a thread on Hermes belts. I thought it might be useful to post pics of your belts here, esp the H and Constance belts. Hermès’s horse-drawn carriage brand shall be on the center of the field prime, with “Hermès / Paris” under it. Counterfeit bins are known to be shiny and light-weight, so beware of those. And if a scarf comes with an authenticity card, that’s an indication that it’s not real. If you have data of the Internet you should buy these merchandise online. Go to one of many reputed online stores and it is feasible for you to to find an extensive assortment of handbags and purses that look as good as designer, branded purses and purses. @maaguirre0861 so for future reference, the Hermes strap are delicate and flimsy. When they are used they'll usually have somewhat notch within the middle from the pants belt loop. You can typically discover low cost straps however the buckles may be expensive. If the invoice is printed by a counterfeit firm it is probably that the receipt won't embrace this detail or will probably be replicated poorly with a darker tone or false font. Inside genuine Hermès accent packaging, you will also find that the bill incorporates info detailing the placement of the store and country where you purchased your belt. The packaging of the Hermès Belt ought to encompass an orange field prefer it does with all its different merchandise like baggage, bracelets and plenty of different. Read extra about studying tips on how to authenticate varied objects. Explore the Library 1M+ phrases written for thousands of items in tons of of guides. Video Library of Guides Prefer to learn via videos? h belt buckle replica We’d love to communicate to let you know about the latest dress styles, wedding ceremony tips, competitions and inspiration ahead of your big day. 100% Money back promise of authenticity. It can be worn as a belt bag, cross physique and even as a pouch thanks to the intelligent snap clasp connected to the strap. The Hermes Birkin is not meant to be slung over the shoulder and you're supposed to hold it by way of your arm or by the handles. They are made with various completely different supplies and the price would also depend upon the scale and the material used to make the Birkin. The forms of leather-based used for the Birkin bags are crocodile, ostrich, alligator, and lizard. wikipedia belt Lastly, for the seventh and the final step of the guide on tips on how to spot faux Hermes H brand belts, we will have to examine the actual vs fake Hermes H belts for the packaging box’s particulars.

FEELINGS

song #1 – feelings by lauv (lyrics, song)

“I wanna do whatever you wanna do. If you wanted to, girl, we could cross that line.”

↳ PAIRING – zuko x reader

↳ GENRE – drabble; fluff; f2l

↳ WARNINGS – none

requested by anon – “Hello there, would you hate me if I ask for song request #1 for Zuko x reader? Thank you for writing such awesome pieces of art ☺️”

You didn’t know what to do. Even your pleas to the gods for help had gone unanswered. You could picture the spirits just laughing at you now.

All you were left with was Katara and Toph for advice, and they weren’t exactly the best at it.

Katara was a hopeless romantic with no realistic approach to relationships (“Oh! Take him on an ostrich horse drawn carriage ride, with flower petals strewn along the path! And then take him to a lake under the stars with a candlelit picnic and kiss him!” “Katara, we’re literally camping in a cave right now.”).

And Toph had no experience with relationships whatsover, and had also made it very clear that she didn’t care (“Punch him in the gut and he’s yours.” “Um, Toph, I don’t think that’s how it works.” “Oh, then I don’t know, you figure it out.”).

“A TURTLE DUCK!” You heard Aang exclaim from the other side of camp. You turned and watched as Zuko clamped a hand over the young Avatar’s mouth and his face flushed red.

Zuko didn’t know what to do. Aang was a 12 year old boy who had a hopeless crush on a girl and couldn’t even do anything about it, and Sokka’s girlfriend was more man than him in their relationship. And neither of them gave him good advice. 

Sokka had insisted that he should play the hero and win you over with his “manly charms and badass fighting skills,” which was apparently how he’d won over Suki (though from Suki’s tellings of the story, he guessed it was the other way around). Aang, ever the animal lover, suggested that Zuko bring you an animal for a pet (“Because nothing represents love better than animals!”).

Somehow, Zuko didn’t think either of those would work on you. At least, they didn’t seem like the right ways to tell you how he felt. He knew how you felt about relationships. They scared you, and from past experiences of yourself and others, you had always concluded that love only resulted in broken endings. A big, suffocating gesture was not the way to tell you he loved you.

And yet despite all your preaching of love being a lie, sometimes it almost seemed as if you’d changed your mind about it. Zuko had no idea whether it was just his mind playing tricks on him, or actually the way it was, but he saw love in the small smiles you sent him when the gaang’s laughter started to die down, the way you slept closer to him on colder nights and helped him pack up camp in the morning. He felt it in the way your gaze fixed on him when he and Aang trained and the way you had hugged him after he’d helped to save your lives.

He wanted to change your mind about love. And sometimes it was easy to convince himself that he was.

“Zuko?”

His neck whipped around as he turned to face you. “Hey! Y/N! Uh, what’s up?”

Your smile was nervous, an expression that you hadn’t worn around him since he first joined the gaang.

“Um, nothing really. I just…” you took in a deep breath. “Can I talk to you about something?”

He nodded immediately, concern creeping into his stomach. “Of course! Is everything okay?”

“No, yeah, everything’s fine!” You shook your head reassuringly before muttering, “More or less.”

Zuko snuck a glance at you, before nodding his head in the direction of the river near where you’d been camping. “Shall we?”

A smile graced your face as you nodded and the two of you fell in step with each other.

You seated yourselves side by side on the grassy banks of the river, listening to the rushing water in silence.

“So–” “Um–”

Flustered, he gestured for you to speak first.

You took in a deep breath. “Okay, so, I’ve asked for a lot of help with this, but Toph and Katara are nothing but unhelpful, so I think I’m just going to wing this one.”

Zuko watched you as you fiddled with your fingers, eyes cast downwards.

“So we’ve known each other a while now, and I’d say we’re pretty good friends, and uh, I hope you think so too otherwise this is just totally embarrassing. But lately I’ve been feeling like maybe friends just isn’t what I want anymore? Oh god, I don’t even know how to say this. Like, there’s a line there and a part of me wants to cross it, but I don’t know if you do, and, oh my god.” 

You stopped to take a few more calming breaths when Zuko, who’d been examining you carefully, finally spoke up.

“I want to cross that line with you.” He took your stunned silence as an invitation to continue, looking down at the water below. “I know you’ve always said that love only knows broken ends, and feelings are too hard, but I want to change your mind if you’ll give me a chance to.”

Still, you said nothing and Zuko was afraid he’d misread your feelings, misread the situation until he glanced up and saw your smile as you whispered.

“Kiss me.”

Zuko had wanted to change your mind. And it seemed he had.

Article on Court Dresses of the Regency period

^Miroir de la Mode , February 1804, “Court Dress” This print is a rare example from the short-lived British magazine, edited by the famous modiste Madame Lanchester, published only from 1803 to 1804. 

^ La Belle Assemblée, March 1806. “The Marchioness of Townshend in her full Court Dress as worn by her Ladyship on the Queen’s Birth Day 1806.”

^La Belle Assemblée February 1808 “A Lady of Quality in the Birth Day Court Dress January 18, 1808”Described in the magazine as follows:“A white satin petticoat , covered with gold spangled scaling, ornamented round the bottom and draperies with a deep border of white velvet, embroidered in an elegant pattern of gold; and finished with a rich fringe of the same. Body and train of purple velvet, trimmed with a similar fringe; pocket-holes ornamented with a rich gold cord and tassels. Crescent stomacher of gold mosaic, finished with a splendid diamond brooch; front of the sleeves ornamented with the same. “Diamond necklace, earrings, and bracelets. Hair a la Madona, ornamented with a gold net; confined at the back of the head with a diamond comb and star, from whence descent court lappets of Brussels lace. Two curled ostrich feathers placed toward the left side. Plain tucker of lace corresponding with the lappets, brought to a point at the center of the bosom. Shoes of ruby velvet, embroidered and trimmed with gold. Gloves of superfine French kid, worn above the elbow. Fan of carved ivory, with ruby stud; mount of ruby crape, richly embroidered with gold and spangles.”

^La Belle Assemblée September 1816 “Parisian Court Dress” The print, which was copied from the French magazine Journal des Dames et des Modes, is described in La Belle Assemblée as follows: “Petticoat and train of white satin, superbly ornamented round the border and sides with flowers and couloured foil. Body of white satin or silver tissue. Short full sleeves of white satin, richly ornamented with point lace, and surmounted by imperial wings formed of a triple row of the same material. Toque of white satin, encircled round the forehead by a bandeau of pearls or diamonds. The hair in curls, à-la-Ninon; superb plume of full white ostrich feathers, and court lappets of fine lace. Ear-rings and necklace of diamonds. White kid shoes with very small rosettes; white kid gloves, ornamented at the top with a narrow fluted quilling of blond.”

^La Belle Assemblée April 1817 “Court Dress with the New Hoop”Described in the magazine as follows: “Full suit dress of pink satin, finished round the border with fine blond interspersed with pearls, to which are added rich cordons and embossments of white silk, in an embroidery of a novel kind, mingled with artificial flowers. Superb drapery of embroidered net, trimmed with blond of an unrivalled pattern and workmanship, and drawn up with full wreaths of artificial flowers. Train of pink satin, elegantly finished with silver lama; short sleeves of pink satin and blond, caught up to the shoulder with full blown roses. Head-dress feathers and diamonds. Diamond necklace and ear-rings. White satin shoes; and white crape fan, the outward sticks studded and fastened with diamonds. “N.B The attention of the nobility and gentry is particularly appealed to on the newly invented Court hoop, which enables a lady to sit comfortably in a sedan, or other carriage, while the hoop is worn, with the same ease as any other garment; and by this unique and unrivalled novelty the splendor and dignity of Court costume is not only preserved, but considerably heightened.”

^La Belle Assemblée July 1820 “Court Dress of Lady Worsley Holmes worn at the first Drawing Room of George IV” Described in the magazine as follows: “A beautiful drawing was taken of this superb and elegant dress last month, but our Engraver disappointed us of then offering it to the public; in addition to a faithful representation of it in our Print of Fashion, the following description is offered to our fair readers. It consists of a rich white satin slip, with a fancy petticoat over it, embroidered in pearls, wheat-ears, blue chenille rosettes, and wreaths of the same. The petticoat finished at the border with a rouleau of blue gros-de-Naples, wreathed over with pearls. A robe train of blue gros-de-Naples lined throughout with white satin, trimmed all round with a rich French blond, and rouleau of gros-de-Naples, entwined with pearls, to correspond with the border of the petticoat. The body of blue gros-de-Naples, tastefully ornamented with pearls and French blond. Headdress is a magnificent plume of ostrich feathers, bandeau of diamonds, and blond court lappets.”

Séeberger Frères [Louis, Jules and Henri] :: Promenade en voiture tirée par une autruche | Ride in an ostrich drawn carriage, Jardin des Plantes, Paris, 1901-1925 | src Twitter

The Repository of Arts, Literature, Fashions, Manufactures, Etc. The Third Series

Composite of individual fashion plates

Left: Volume 9, Number 52, April, 1827; Carriage Costume

Center: Volume 12, Number 68, August, 1828; Carriage Costume

Right: Volume 10, Number 60, December, 1827; Carriage Dress

Carriage Costume (left) Pelisse of primrose gros de Naples, or lutestring, lined with white sarsnet; the corsage plain, fastened behind, and ornamented with two rows of crescents interlaced, the points projecting outwards. The same kind of trimming is continued down the front of the skirt, and nearly meets at the waist, but widens and enlarges as it descends; it turns off circularly and forms the border of the dress: a rouleau, raised in front and formed into an extended bow, fills the intermediate space and unites with the crescent trimming; the ends of the bow continue all round, beneath the border, and a wadded rouleau hem terminates the dress. The sleeves, of the same material, are long and easy, with large white tulle sleeves over them, confined at the wrist by bead bracelets, with cameo clasps. Vandyked pelerine of tulle, the ends extending below the waist and confined by the ceinture in front. Large Mexican hat of lavender and primrose gros de Naples; the crown low, and ornamented with ribbons of each colour and large white ostrich-feathers. The strings, one of primrose, the other of lavender-colour ribbon, are untied, and reach nearly to the knees, and have each two bows at the end. The hair, parted on the forehead, is in large curls, with two beautiful Provins roses on each side. Ear-rings and necklace of emerald and gold, fastened very tastefully with a locket pending from the centre; gold watch and chain. Lavender-colour gloves and shoes.

Carriage Costume (center) Gros de Naples high dress of Pomona green, ornamented with three deep flounces of the same, each having at the top a border of the York and Lancaster rose arranged alternately. The body is made plain, and the waist long: the sleeves are very full, and confined twice above the elbow with rose-colour satin bands, fastened with square gold buckles; beneath the elbow it is made to fit the arm, and is laced above half way, and has a rose-colour cord and tassels pendant: corder rose-colour satin belt, pointed in front, with small bows behind: ruche of tulle, and pelerine of the same, scolloped at the back, and reaching to the belt in front. Leghorn hat, circular and large, trimmed with rose-colour satin ribbon and artificial flowers; tied under the right ear in a large bow, and long full ends of rose-colour crèpe lisse. Primrose-colour gloves and shoes.

Carriage Dress (right) High dress of green Merino, with gigot sleeves and broad wristbands, fastened with hooks and eyes, and confining the gloves, which are of rose-colour kid; the skirt is trimmed with two deep flounces of the same material as the dress, headed and edged with a shawl pattern border of roses. Cloak of tomata-colour gros de Berlin, lined with ermine, made very long and full, and drawn at the waist behind; the armholes are bound with tomata-colour velvet, like the large circular cape, which is fastened in front with a gold clasp à la militaire; square collar, falling over and displaying the ermine lining. Blue silk Navarino handkerchief tied round the throat. White gros de Naples hat, with a wide and spreading brim, ornamented beneath with rows of tomata-colour satin ribbon, on each side united by a ribbon extending across the front; the crown is decorated with white and tomata-colour satin trimming, and white ostrich feathers disposed in front and at the sides; satin strings en bride. Muff of ermine, and shoes of dark chesnut-colour kid.

fairy tale meme ❧ [7/7 ships] the frog king x iron heinrich

    The next morning, just as the sun was waking them, a carriage pulled up, drawn by eight horses. They had white ostrich feathers on their heads and were outfitted with chains of gold. At the rear stood the young king's servant, faithful Heinrich. Faithful Heinrich had been so saddened by his master's transformation into a frog that he had had to place three iron bands around his heart to keep it from bursting in grief and sorrow. The carriage was to take the king back to his kingdom. Faithful Heinrich [...] was filled with joy over the redemption.     After they had gone a short distance, the prince heard a crack from behind, as though something had broken. He turned around and said, "Heinrich, the carriage is breaking apart."     “No, my lord, the carriage it's not, but one of the bands surrounding my heart that suffered such great pain when you were sitting in the well when you were a frog.”

I Promise.

Title: I Promise.

Author: royalbluehues

Warnings:  No warnings.

Pairings: William Schofield x Reader

Author’s Note: For Come Back To Me, I’m not satisfied with what I’ve been writing so it’s been a lot of writing then deleting, but I got a quarter of a page written and should be up by the end of this week.

Until then, I’ve written this to sate everyone’s needs for Will. Would you be interested in seeing a drabble for Tom? Let me know. 

Thank you for all the wonderful comments and hearts I’ve received these past two days. I’m muy happy. :)

You were running to the railway station, bumping into people as you went who were coming from there. You nearly collided with old men and women, with mothers sobbing into their handkerchiefs as they led their younger children by the hand to home. With the parcels you brought with you cradled in the crook of your right arm, and your right hand stationed at the top of your hat to prevent it from flying away with the gusts of wind that blew to the east, you thought only of him.

The air was frigid, and you had even left in such a hurry that you had gone without your coat. The white high collared shirt your wore did nothing to keep the cold from seeping in, but you soldiered on. 

“Oh!” You let out in an irritated tone when you saw another small incline. You began to make your ascent, feeling the strains in your calves as you continued on.

Please, you silently prayed, please let him still be there. Please.

Your heart was hammering, your heels clicking loudly underneath you, reminding you of a lame horse lacking the ability to move any faster.

Out of all the blasted days in the world, Lady Shelly had to make a sudden appearance at the shop you worked in to surprise all her workers with a check-up on how her business was going.

You had even pleaded with one of the other girls to help you, but was dismissed with a look of indifference. The entire hour Lady Shelly was there, you were biting on your curled index finger with impatience and restless until she walked out the spotless glass doors, the ostrich feather in her hat bouncing each time she took a step.

By that time, it was half past one, and he would be leaving the station sharply at two. Unluckily for you, the distance between the shop and the station was about a 25-30 minute walk. 

So you did what you could only think of that would help your case, all proprietary out the window, and ran.

And once you made it to the top of the hill, panting, you nearly cried out in relief when you saw the familiar sign that read ‘Station Hill’. 

You bolted down the road, passing a horse drawn carriage, and hearing some comments about your lack of propriety, and another about how running would cause you fatigue.

Upon seeing the small red brick building, you saw the train’s smoke and heard the clamor of the men in trolley cars beside you as you ran by it. 

When setting foot on the platform, you whipped around madly for any sign of him amongst the last group of men that boarded the train. The train whistled, signaling for its final call.

“All aboard!” The conductor yelled from a window, waving a hand up in the air as the last few men entered the cart. 

Shaking your head, you looked around for any sign of him. “No, no,” you said desperately to yourself.

The wind was strong,your black skirt lifting and ruffling around your ankles angrily. Blinking and in a panic, you headed towards the conductor, “Sir, please, you have to help me-”

“Madam, I will have to ask you to kindly step back,” he told you, his dark eyes boring down at you as he gripped the railing leading into the cart.

“No, no you don’t understand- I wasn’t able to leave on time- his name is Schofield!” you jabbered quickly, desperately clutching onto the parcels in your hand, “His name is William Schofield. He had to have shown some form of documentation to have boarded, you must have seen him-”

“Madam,” he interrupted sharply, stepping on the second step inward, “We are on a tight schedule. Please step back.”

With a trembling lip and a look of desperation, you took a step back, watching as the conductor slid the door shut. 

You felt a tightness in your throat, eyes watering as you trembled from the unbelievable interaction.

Countless of terrible possibilities flickered through your mind, countless of “what if”. 

Was he mad at you? Did he think you would never present yourself?

What if he didn’t leave without a scarf? What if he were to get ill? Would he write to his mother and tell him you never showed? 

And the gut wrenching question that loomed over your head made your stomach turn sickly, the very question you have never allowed to enter into your thought until that very moment, What if he were to die and you would never see him again?

Wiping at the tear that fell down your cheek, you shook yourself out of your dreadful reverie, and walked to the first compartment. You banged on the window, grabbing hold of the young officers attention leaning against it.

You blinked away the tears that blurred your vision, and stood on the tips of your toes as one the boys shimmied the window down.

Their looks ranged from confusion as you desperately clung at the window sill, “Miss, the train’s about to move-”

“Is William Schofield there? Please!” You begged, “I-I wasn’t given the chance to say goodbye-” The young officer, retreated, making you cry out and another wave of dread washed over you, “No! Please come back-”

“Oi!” He shouted loudly into the hall of the cart, “Oi! Is there some chap named Schofield ‘ere?” He leaned his head further in from you line of vision.

“Eh?” You heard him ask in his thick Cockney accent, “Well then bloody ask around, you daft dolt! His girl’s out ‘ere crying her eyes out!”

Your lip trembled more, as you stepped back, hearing as the train geared up, and feeling as the steam beneath the train expanded around you. The young man came back, languidly leaning out the window, hand dangling freely, “He’s in one of the last carts, ma’am.”

You took his hand and kissed it in gratitude, feeling your chest blossom with hope, “Thank you!” you sobbed, letting go as you ran, head turned towards the windows.

“William!” You called desperately over the loco-motor’s churning, “William!”

And you just barely heard it above the noise when the train moved slowly forward. Your name.

His head was popping out from one of the last windows, and he was waving his right arm to get your attention.

You nearly wanted to collapse from you mixture of emotions, and you let out a strangle of a sob as you moved to him, “William,” you gasped out. When you reached him, you grabbed hold of his hands, “Will-”

“You came,” he said, his blue eyes searching your own, “I thought you wouldn’t come-”

“I’m sorry, I was held up,” you said in a rush, moving along with the train, “I was going to come earlier- Please forgive me- Lady Shelly came and I-”

“It doesn’t matter now.” He told you calmly, “You came.” 

You had forgotten about the parcels until they nearly fell out of your arms, “Oh,” you exhaled shakily letting go of his hand to briefly hand the items wrapped in parchment, “I brought you some things to take with you, I- Oh, William.” You let out sadly, looking at the distance ahead of you at the cut off before the train exited the station. It was moving a bit faster now.

You looked at him, noticing how handsome he looked, donning his officer’s hat and wearing his army greens. If only you could have made it on time. If only the war would have never started.

“You’ll write me?” He asked somberly, reaching for your hands once more, looking into your eyes as you picked up speed.

You nodded vigorously, tearing up again, “Everyday. Promise me you’ll return to me. If not for me, then for your mother and your sisters. They need you,” you hurriedly spoke, breaking into a slow jog.

“For all of you,” he promised, bringing his lips to the backs of your hands, “I promise.”

You looked down to see a small bar on the side of the train, and you stepped on it without a second to lose, and William’s hands took either side of your face and kissed you.

His thin lips pressed against yours tightly, as if it were the last time he would ever see you again. He let go before bringing you back to kiss him again. You transferred tears to his cheeks and sobbed loudly in between.

The back of the train was beginning to underpass the small overhead of the station:

you were losing time. When he pulled back, you were shaking again, “You keep your promise, then. You keep it, do you hear me?” You croaked, “I love you. You have my heart, so return it to me safely.” 

He kissed your entwined hands nodding, his large eyes filled with unshed tears, looking at you with a thousand unsaid words, “Always.”

You let go of him, opposing every atom in your body screaming not to, and hopped off the rusty bar, and onto the last bit of platform Cookham’s station had to offer.

Your hat had fallen, probably when you stepped onto the train’s bar, but you could care less. As the train carried on, carrying roughly around a hundred men, William also took everything you had with him.

You watched until William’s distance from you grew, and until you couldn’t hear the gears turn or the whistle blow. You stood still for minutes after it left your sight. 

Your heart felt heavy as you mulled over his words, I promise. 

William was not one to break his word. He would come back to you.

You breathed out shakily, the heat from your breath wafting above you in the cold air, blinking tears that were threatening to fall, and grabbing a fistful of your skirt.

Always.

.

.

.

Masterlist

Björk Spotted Leaving Nightclub With Mysterious Firefly Trapped Inside Bubble

NEW YORK—According to several eyewitness accounts, Icelandic singer and experimental artist Björk was reportedly spotted Wednesday night leaving a New York City nightclub with a mysterious firefly trapped within an ethereal bubble. “I can confirm that Björk was out and about in Manhattan last night canoodling with a flame-winged firefly imprisoned in a shimmering sphere, and you can bet we have pics,” said TMZ writer Alicia Yang of the potential fling between the 52-year-old musician and the mystical 4-foot-tall lightning bug with whom she spent much of the night spinning inside a prism of sparkling light several feet above the dance floor. “I’m also hearing that just after they left, these two lovebirds jumped straight into the same ostrich-drawn carriage and headed off toward towards her SoHo hotel, leaving nothing but lotus flowers and whalesong in their wake. Gosh, they make such a cute couple.” At press time, Björk had further stoked reports of her romance after she had enchanted a swan to deliver a love letter to her potential suitor by breathing a glittering vapor into its wings.