#bleu de hue

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode illustrée, no. 15, 13 avril 1873, Paris. Toilettes de Mme Fladry, 43 rue Richer. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Description de toilettes:

Jupon plissé perpendiculairement, fait en foulard nuance café au lait. Polonaise en drap de soie de même couleur, mais de nuance plus foncée, garnie d'une guipure de même teinte. A quatre centimètres de distance du bord inférieur, un biais dentelé et un biais uni de même étoffe que le jupon. Sur chaque côté, la polonaise est fendue et garnie d'une guipure pareille à celle du bord inférieur, mais plus large. Les basques et les manches ont une garniture pareille à celle du bord inférieur de la polonaise.

Petite fille de six ans. Jupon en foulard bleu uni, sans garniture; polonaise-princesse, en popeline gris-clair, bordée d'un biais pareil.

Jupon en faye noire, avec volant plissé disposé par séries de trois plis, surmonté d'un biais orné de distance en distance de gros boutons en vieil argent.

Tunique et polonaise, en popeline violette. La tunique est garnie d'un volant plissé, surmonté de deux rubans en velours' noir. Le bord inférieur de la tunique est découpé en dents pointues qui semblent être boutonnées sur une bande de velours noir, dentelée; les boutons, pareils à ceux déjà mentionnés, sont plus petits que ceux du volant. La polonaise est relevée par de gros choux en velours noir. Corsage à basques, garni comme le bord inférieur delà polonaise.

—

Perpendicularly pleated petticoat, made of café-au-lait foulard. Polonaise in silk cloth of the same color, but of a darker shade, trimmed with a guipure of the same hue. At four centimeters distance from the lower edge, a serrated bias and a plain bias of the same fabric as the petticoat. On each side, the polonaise is split and trimmed with a guipure similar to that of the lower edge, but wider. The basques and the sleeves have a trim similar to that of the lower edge of the polonaise.

Six-year-old girl. Plain blue foulard petticoat, without trim; princess-polonais, in light gray poplin, bordered with a similar bias.

Black faye petticoat, with pleated flounce arranged in series of three pleats, surmounted by a bias decorated at intervals with large old silver buttons.

Tunic and polonais, in purple poplin. The tunic is trimmed with a pleated flounce topped with two black velvet ribbons. The lower edge of the tunic is cut into pointed teeth which appear to be buttoned on a strip of black, serrated velvet; the buttons, similar to those already mentioned, are smaller than those on the flounce. The polonaise is enhanced by large black velvet puffs. Basque bodice, trimmed like the lower edge of the polonaise.

[borisdunand]

Un silence insupportable

Un silence particulier. Un silence plus intense que celui des dimanches. Je marche sur le trottoir, dans Carouge, je fais mon tour habituel, mes pas du réveil. L'air est mordant, le ciel bleu foncé avec de grandes rainures pâles, le soleil pas encore levé a déjà effacé les étoiles. Pas une voiture. Un cycliste roule les mains dans les poches. Ah mais oui, c'est parce que c'est Noël, tout est fermé, tout est en congé. Presque : dans le café en bas de mon immeuble, une dame ajuste l'emplacement des viennoiseries. Le silence est frappant. Je l'entends fort.

J'entends aussi d'autant plus fort les bruits qui le recouvrent habituellement. Leur intensité, leur omniprésence, leur agressivité. À la même heure, en semaine, je suis entouré de plusieurs dizaines de voitures, de vespas, de motos, de précipitations, d'accélérations, de grincements, claquements, craquements, de voix et de cris, de silhouettes pressées qui s'entrecroisent. Là, rien. Le cliquetis poétique et bref du vélo. Le visage distinct d'une femme qui vient poser une lettre dans la boîte. Des chants d'oiseaux !

J'écoute ce silence, je me souviens du bruit, je soupire. Toujours, toujours la même interrogation, le même vacillement : est-ce que j'ai vraiment choisi ? Est-ce que l'habituation annule les effets de l'agression ou bien la rend-elle faussement indolore ? Est-ce que je fais avec sans m'en rendre compte ou est-ce que ça ne m'atteint réellement plus ? Quel est le coût de cet effacement, de cet oubli ? Cet oubli qu'il y a un silence dessous, un calme, des pépiements mélodieux, il y a tout ce que je sens à l'instant : du calme, de la douceur, de la tendresse, de la beauté, un possible moment de tranquillité, voire de plénitude.

La réalité de mon quotidien, si radicalement différente de ce que cette promenade me fait vivre, au même endroit, à la même heure, dans le même corps et les mêmes humeurs, cette réalité me saute au visage, comme un monstre fendant la toile de silence qui m'entoure en me gueulant soudainement dessus. Pourquoi ? Pourquoi je vis ça tous les jours ? Pourquoi je ne vis pas ça plutôt ? Comment faire ? Est-ce que ça changerait vraiment ? Où aller chercher ça ? A la campagne ? Et les trajets pour le travail, la culture, la vie sociale alors ? Dans un coin privilégié de la cité ? Avec quelles ressources financières ? En passant d'un mi-temps à un temps complet, mais alors quel temps me restera-t-il pour profiter, créer, rêvasser, faire ma promenade du matin ? Donc je reste là, j'oublie, je m'habitue, je retourne dans mon immeuble où tous les jours des gens claquent les portes pour les fermer, marchent en tapant du pied sur le sol à deux heures du matin malgré qu'on leur aie demandé d'éviter de le faire, descendent les escaliers à la façon d'un pachyderme saoul et paniqué, poussent et tirent à hue et à dia chaises, tables et meubles en oubliant les capacités motrices de leurs membres supérieurs… Jusqu'à quand ?

Dans ces moments, j'ai des micro-crises épileptiques, des fractions de convulsions neurales où je me vois habiter radicalement ailleurs, et tout mon système psychique et physique semble à deux doigts de s'effondrer sur lui-même. Je me vois en train de marcher le long d'un champ, d'une plage, d'un lac, ces images me traversent comme des éclairs et sont absolument insupportables.

[bleu-de-hue]

Says about Bleu-De-Hue!

A fair lady, wearing her Vietnamese traditional Áo Dài dress, is sitting on a ceramic chair by the round table of the same set. This set is produced by Bleu-de-hue and she is Yen Dinh - production team lead of Bleu. She is the creative mind and the skillful hands behind the work. And there will be many more to come.

Don’t forget to keep in touch with us!

Handcrafted Vietnamese Pottery

[bagsbusiness]

Top Hermès Handbags to Invest in This Season for a Summer Sizzle

Summer beckons with its vibrant energy, and your wardrobe deserves a refresh to match. While Hermès handbags are timeless investments, some styles are particularly suited for the warmer months. 

Here, we unveil the best Hermès handbags to invest in this summer, considering practicality, style, and that coveted potential for value retention. Remember that you can become an Hermès reseller and sell or buy your original Hermès handbags on Resellers Connector without commissions.

1. Hermès Constance Elan:

Embrace a touch of breezy sophistication with the Constance Elan. This versatile tote boasts a relaxed silhouette, perfect for carrying beach essentials or a light summer sweater. Crafted from luxurious box calf leather, it comes in a delightful array of summery hues like Bleu Atoll or Jaune Tournesol, adding a pop of color to your ensemble. The detachable strap allows for shoulder or crossbody carrying, making it ideal for hands-free exploration during your summer adventures.

2. Hermès Panier d'été

Channel effortless elegance with the Panier d'été, a woven wonder perfect for lazy summer days. Crafted from hand-woven Panama straw with elegant leather trimmings, this bag exudes a touch of coastal chic. The Panier d'été comes in two sizes: a larger tote ideal for beach essentials and a smaller pouch perfect for everyday outings. Its neutral tones, like natural straw with contrasting brown leather, pair beautifully with summer dresses and linen pants.

3. Hermès Mini Kelly Sellier

For the quintessential summer soiree, the Mini Kelly Sellier offers a timeless touch. This compact version of the iconic Kelly bag is crafted from luxurious leathers like Togo or Clemence, ensuring durability alongside elegance. While not ideal for carrying beach towels, its structured silhouette exudes sophistication for summer evenings. Opt for a vibrant color like Rouge Grenat or Jaune Ambre to add a touch of summer flair.

4. Hermès Haut à Courroies coup de soleil

Embrace your equestrian heritage with the Haut à Courroies coup de soleil. This saddle bag, reimagined for summer, features a unique hand-painted design reminiscent of a sunset. Crafted from smooth Tadelakt leather, it offers a touch of bohemian luxury. Its adjustable strap allows for crossbody or shoulder carrying, making it versatile for summer adventures. While not the most practical for carrying beach essentials, its unique design and limited edition appeal make it a potential collector's item.

[innemelisrcherryblossom]

The Hottest Trends in French National Team Jerseys for 2023-2024

The world of football fashion is always evolving, and the French National Team's jerseys for the 2023-2024 season are no exception. In this guide, we'll delve into the hottest trends that have shaped the design and style of these iconic jerseys. Whether you're a die-hard fan or a fashion-forward enthusiast, get ready to explore the cutting-edge trends that make these jerseys stand out.

Modern Minimalism: Simplicity is the name of the game in the 2023-2024 French National Team jerseys. Discover how the clean lines and minimalist designs bring a fresh and contemporary look to the jerseys, making them a versatile choice for both the pitch and casual wear.

Vibrant Color Palettes: Bold and vibrant colors are taking center stage in the world of football fashion. Find out how the jerseys for this season incorporate eye-catching hues and unique color combinations that reflect the energy and enthusiasm of French football.

Heritage-Inspired Details: While embracing modernity, the jerseys also pay homage to France's football heritage. Uncover the intricate details and subtle nods to the team's history that are woven into the fabric of these jerseys, adding depth and meaning to their designs.

Eco-Friendly Materials: Sustainability is a growing trend, even in football apparel. Learn about the eco-friendly materials and manufacturing processes used to create these jerseys, allowing you to support your team with a clear conscience.

Customization Options: Personalization is on the rise, and the 2023-2024 French National Team jerseys offer various customization options. Explore how you can make your jersey unique by adding your name, favorite player's name, or a special message.

Innovative Technology: Stay ahead of the game with jerseys that feature cutting-edge technology. Discover how these jerseys are designed for maximum comfort, breathability, and moisture-wicking properties, ensuring you stay cool and dry during intense matches. click site maillot de la france

Limited Edition Releases: For collectors and enthusiasts, keep an eye out for limited edition releases that are sure to become sought-after items. We'll highlight any special editions, collaborations, or unique features that set certain jerseys apart.

Fan Engagement: The 2023-2024 French National Team jerseys are not just clothing; they're a symbol of fandom. Join the fan community and embrace the excitement of celebrating your team's success while staying updated on jersey releases and events.

Conclusion: The 2023-2024 French National Team jerseys are a testament to the ever-evolving world of football fashion. With these hottest trends in mind, you're now equipped to embrace the style, history, and innovation that define these iconic jerseys. Get ready to support Les Bleus in a jersey that not only represents your team but also reflects the current trends in football fashion!

[rapportsdestages]

c. Installations et interventions extérieures

            Le premier jour de mon stage, Mathieu et moi sommes allés à La Briqueterie, un petit musée construit sur les vestiges d’une ancienne tuilerie-briqueterie, pour régler un problème technique. En effet, il y a un endroit où ils diffusent une vidéo, qui se déclenche grâce à un détecteur de mouvement, et en voulant remplacer la vidéo, celle-ci ne se déclenchait plus. Mathieu a regardé sur la clé USB ou la carte SD où il y avait l’ancienne vidéo et le programme, et a comparé avec la nouvelle clé, et en fait tous les fichiers n’avaient pas été déplacés, alors le programme ne fonctionnait pas correctement. Ainsi, en copiant bien tous les fichiers, cela a fonctionné.

            Il y a un stade à Saint-Malo dans lequel il y a des enceintes JBL installées par Platine. Un matin nous y sommes allés avec Mathieu car il fallait modifier la matrice afin d’ajouter les enceintes dessus. Pour cela, Mathieu devait installer un logiciel qui s’appelle Yamaha MTX-MRX Editor sur son ordinateur. Il a essayé en installant la version la plus récente, mais il fallait la même version que la matrice. Ainsi, il a installé différentes versions une par une jusqu’à trouver la bonne et pouvoir contrôler la matrice. On a ensuite pu tester les enceintes : Mathieu parlait dans un micro HF en demandant de monter ou baisser le volume, et allumer ou éteindre les amplis. Tout fonctionnait et ça ne saturait jamais donc c’était une réussite.

            Un autre jour, nous devions aller à la cathédrale de Saint-Brieuc car il y avait un problème avec les micros. La personne en charge de la cathédrale nous a dit qu’il entendait parfois un larsen qui commençait à partir. Après vérification du câblage, nous avons remarqué que les micros étaient inversés par rapport à la console, mais en testant les micros, cela n’a pas créé de larsen.

            Au « Kasino » de Sables d’Or Les Pins, il y a une petite salle où il peut y avoir des concerts ou des spectacles. Nous sommes allés y installer des praticables neufs, un escalier et une jupe neuve. Les anciens praticables étaient en mauvais état et étaient plus petits en hauteur, alors la nouvelle scène était plus haute et plus belle.

            Lors de la troisième semaine, nous sommes allés à la patinoire de Langueux car une des lumières ne fonctionnait plus.

            Nous avons donc monté un échafaudage sur la glace afin de regarder quel était le problème. Il y avait une autre lumière identique, et lorsqu’on échangeait une certaine pièce, la lumière fonctionnait. Il fallait donc changer cette pièce.

Échafaudage à la patinoire

            La première fois que nous sommes venus à la patinoire, il y avait cours, alors nous devions attendre, mais la salle de spectacle La Passerelle a appelé pour demander si on pouvait leur dépanner des enceintes. Nous avons donc pu aller au dépôt chercher les subs et aller à La Passerelle pour leur donner, avant de retourner à la patinoire.

            Arnaud et moi sommes revenus pendant la dernière semaine pour changer la pièce et également pour faire de la programmation sur Daslight, un logiciel de programmation lumière. Par chance, on a retrouvé le fichier Daslight avec les informations pour contrôler les lumières. Malheureusement, il n’y avait pas de « scène » toute faite, mais au moins il n’y avait pas à réassigner les lumières. Arnaud a donc créé plusieurs scènes pour qu’il y ait des effets déjà programmés, mais les lumières n’étaient pas terribles. En effet, quasiment chaque projecteur ne fonctionnait pas correctement : par exemple, il y avait un projecteur qui ne diffusait que de la lumière rouge, ou encore certains projecteurs ne faisaient pas comme les autres. De plus, lorsqu’on choisissait du magenta avec le logiciel (Daslight 1), les projecteurs diffusaient du rouge et du bleu séparément (Daslight 2).

Daslight 1

Daslight 2

            Pour un évènement ponctuel, le magasin Jean Hue & Socoda avait besoin d’un écran. Ainsi, nous leur avons loué et installé un écran sur un pied, avec un câble d’alimentation, un câble HDMI et la télécommande. Le lendemain, nous y sommes retournés pour tout démonter.

            Enfin, pendant la dernière semaine, nous sommes allés au Space Club, une boîte de nuit à Pléneuf-Val-André, pour installer des lumières : des lyres Showtec Phantom, des lasers, des machines à fumée LED, des sunstrips, etc.

Lumières au Space Club

            Une seule journée était prévue pour ces installations, et seulement Mathieu devait venir, mais finalement il y avait beaucoup de travail, alors nous y avons passé 2 jours et Arnaud est venu aider. Le magasin a donc dû fermer car Jacques était en congé.

            Ainsi, en plus des lumières à installer, il y avait de la programmation à faire : il fallait assigner les différentes lumières et réglages aux touches et faders du contrôleur.

            Ce n’était pas facile : Arnaud avait déjà travaillé sur Daslight, mais il y a longtemps et sur une version plus ancienne. De plus, celui qui avait effectué la programmation précédemment n’était plus là ; les employés de la boîte de nuit ne pouvaient donc pas l’aider avec le logiciel.

Programmation sur Daslight

[st4rbwrry]

under the influence. jean kirstein.

୭ warnings . . . fem!reader, officer!jean, lowercase intended, black coded, hot sweaty car sex, public indecency, oral ꒰ m received ꒱, jean’s rough bc he is, mild degradation, jean’s your ex, reader rides jean, impact play, jean’s a titty sucker srry i don’t make the rules.

୭ mocha’s note .ᐟ . . . men in uniform. yes. also y’all know exactly what song that title is. ;)

   hues of blue and scarlet flicker over the body of your obsidian lexus rc 300, the vechicle behind you blaring the sirens like they’re eardrum killers purposely meant to burst them. you hated those fucking things. police even more. huffing after wiping the tears off your face, you pull to the side of the empty road. it’s extremely late at night. more-so early, around three in the morning. checking your rear view mirror, you spot the black camaro with an officer stepping out of it. just my fucking luck. as if you weren’t already having a shitty night. kissing your teeth, you sniffle as you roll down your window before reaching into your glove compartment for your license and registration. you’re not exactly sure why you’re being pulled over to be frank.

    the officer strolls towards your car, a tall, lanky man whose wearing a black long sleeve which hugs his muscles and sharp cut abs with dark jeans and heavy boots. the belt around his hips is thick and leather . . . expensive looking. when he’s by the window to your vehicle, you turn to see his appearance. dewy pink lips plush as cotton. fawn long hair that brushes on the nape of his neck. a messy stubble on his jawline that shifts as he chews his gum. he didn’t have a badge, nor a holster on his hips with a gun or a taser. however, he did have on a loose vest with multiple pockets. maybe he was off duty and you ruined his drive home? his scent is strong, recognizable even. bleu de chanel. makes the hair on your skin rise. his eyes are what really draw you in. low and dark, like a dravite tourmaline.

    “i knew it was you.”

    a pang in your chest makes it nearly hard to breathe. you had to blink several times to decipher his image. you knew this man for sure. those lips of his curl into a lopsided grin as he witnesses your saddened eyes expanding. your fingertips slowly glide off your steering wheel as your hands drop into your lap. the man before you, your ex boyfriend, turns his neck sideways before spitting out his gum into the road. he has one hand on his hip and the other in his back pocket, now aware of the gun tucked in the back of his jeans. he’s definitely off duty. the car he’s driving is an undercover cop car.

    “can’t speak to me?” jean prompts louder as if you couldn’t hear him the first time. “i’ve told you fifty times about that taillight, baby. how come it isn’t fixed yet?”

     jesus this really isn’t a good night. of all the people you’ve encountered today, your ex had to be one of them. a cop scared you enough. but him? he terrified you. in all the right ways. sounds crazy, but there’s a reason.

     “i see you followed through with your training.”

     “did. i see you’re still hardheaded.”

     “am.”

     jean rolls his eyes. “that’s beside the point. why are you driving like you’re under the influence? you’ve been drinking?”

     “no, i haven’t. sorry, i’m just . . . in my head,” he watches you sigh, noticing the puffiness in your eyes along with a hint of redness. you’ve been crying. it’s clear as day. jean cocks his head to the side, getting closer to your window, resting an arm on the hood of your car.

     “what’s going on?” a genuine tone in his voice makes you cower. you didn’t need it. not from him that’s for sure.

     “don’t worry about it. just give me a ticket so i can go home.”

     he doesn’t appreciate the stern, cold tone in your voice. handing him your papers like he’s a stranger, a regular cop. not a man you’ve dated for five years. he’s seen every aspect of you. every breakdown, laugh, trauma. every freckle on your body. knows the way you like it. maybe you didn’t patch things up the right way, but that doesn’t make it okay for you to act like he doesn’t mean anything to you. fucking brat.

     “is it so bad to worry about you?” his jaw clenches in fury, inching his face closer to yours, head sticking entirely into your space. you pull your face back, eyeing him like he’s crazy, baffled by his action.

     “get out of my car.”

     “i’m not in it. now shut the fuck up and tell me what happened. clearly you’re not okay. you’re swerving like you’re drunk plus you’ve been crying. i see it.”

     the assertiveness he gives you almost makes you melt in your seat, not hearing his voice in so long, sometimes craving it. it’s like a warm cup of hot chocolate. smooth and comforting. your lower lip gets taken between your teeth before you’re inhaling and exhaling.

     “this guy i’ve been fucking with just told me he had a girlfriend, so. we got into this huge fight and he broke my glasses which is why i can’t see all that good right now. i’m just trying to get home to forget about it.”

     the look on his face is empty. “he hit you?”

      immediately, you deny. “n-no. i mean, he grabbed me to try and apologize and my glasses fell and he stepped on them by accident.”

     remembering it made you hug yourself, feeling his fingertips squeezing your arms harshly once again. jean looks there and sees a few bruises. your skin was really sensitive, so you bruised over anything.

     “step out of the car.”

     you blink. “what?”

     “you heard me the first time.”

     clearly, it doesn't seem as if he'll give up until you do. rolling your eyes, you do what you’re told, jean stepping back as you aggressively swing open your car door, stepping out with your arms hugging yourself considering you’re only wearing a cream flower lily sundress with white sandals. jean couldn’t help his lingering stare. you’ve always been outrageously beautiful to him.

    “it’s really none of your concern.”

     “god, i forgot how much you talked,” the tiny ‘tch’ coming from him before he’s pulling you in for a tight, comforting hug has you falling back into the same entrapment of passion. jean broke up with you because he didn’t want a relationship anymore. he wanted to work on himself, his life, pay more attention to his family and the baby girl he had with an ex of his. the reason why he terrified you is simple; you loved him too damn much that it hurt you to your core. to let him go. to be alone again. you hated him for leaving you.

    “missed your pretty self,” now he's stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb endearingly, rolling his lips inwardly when your eyes meet his.

    “do you?” it comes out softer than you intended. small. he makes you feel so goddamn small, safe, and secure.

    “yeah,” he breathes.

    it's frustrating sometimes when your body reacts before your mind does. dainty hands reaching to skim across his waist you then grab onto, bringing him closer until your back is pressed up to your car. jean’s face remains stagnant. not sure of what to do. actually, he preferred to see what you were intending. truth is, you didn't know. if you wanted to rant about how he left you. kiss him and tell him to take you home. or get on your knees and worship him just because.

    “are you with her?” your bottom lip juts out as you impel your chest to his. jean takes a minute to understand the question. you must've meant her.

    “no. never. we're just co-parenting.”

    “promise you haven't fucked her. not once after we split?” jean groans as the hazel in his eyes turn murkier, your face no longer in his. instead, you're bug-eyed with the bulge in his jeans. unlatching his buckle and pushing all your weight onto the car behind you as you balance yourself on your calfs.

    “just one time. didn't mean anything,” jean is blunt about it causing you to raise your brow the same time you're dragging down his zipper. he doesn't so much as glance around to check for any unexpected company. it's nearly four in the morning and you're off the road near a forest of trees. no one was coming.

    “was it good?” he swears to god he almost busts right there, clenching his jaw as you stick out your salivated tongue, hand wrapped around the base of his thick, hardened cock, a tear droplet of precum on the head. it's pulsating in your palm, and you mewl, wetting your lips with allure.

    “i c-can't remember,” jean hisses as the warmth of your mouth intakes him, batting your curled lashes and glaring into his eyes as the vein on the underside of his cock is caressed by your tongue. he's somewhat in your mouth, resting heavy on your slippery tongue before you pull back and lap at the tip. jean’s physique is arched over you, forehead nearly grazing the hood of your vehicle.

    “try,” now your hands reside on the back of his thighs, gathering enough saliva to spit over his dick, dragging it along with your pursed lips on either side, waiting for him to speak.

    jean bites his lips so hard he curses, sucking on the blood seeping out, bucking his hips to thrust into your mouth. since you move back again, it makes him suck his teeth. big hands holding either side of your head before he's giving you a dark stare you hadn't seen in a minute. it makes you squirm. submitting easily.

    “stick that lil’ tongue out,” he rasps, slicking his own over his bitten red lip. “you have to be polite, princess.”

    it kills you to hear him speak to you like this. every spoken word foreign. you seriously don't know what came over you. too many emotions hitting you at once. seeing him, smelling him, holding him . . . you wanted him. no, needed him.  obeying as you do, you stretch your mouth wider to fit him in deeper. jean mumbles a low ‘there we go, girl’, swallowing his spit and shifting his gut to fuck your mouth as he pleased. he's pressing your head against the door, your eyes wide and lashes specked with tears, jean grunting the faster he fucks your throat. you're breathing through your nose as best as you can, clutching onto him for support, unable to squeeze your thighs like you needed to ease the excessive throbbing.  

    he's by far one of the prettiest men you've met in your lifetime. moans even more lovely. drool slicks down the side of your chin, the color in your pupils shifting as your eyes lose focus. jean warns you under a brief choke, telling you ‘hold your breath’ before he's shoving his dick entirely down your throat. you claw at his thigh, gagging as he stays there for a few more seconds before pulling back. you gasp dramatically, swallowing the remainder of your saliva with his dick springing in your face, catching your breath.

    “good fuckin’ girl,” he's petting the side of your face before helping you stand, your knees burning from being crouched down for so long. they were gonna burn more when you found out how he was going to have you next.

    in your backseat, door shut and lights off. jean’s on his back, pants still clinging to his waist as your body pounces above him, clit occasionally brushing against the dark happy trail on his pelvis as you bounced on his dick with every inch of your body burning and screaming at you. chest rumbling from your euphoric screeches. ass clapping heavily on his bulky thighs as you grip onto the headrest of the passenger seat, the other on the back seat. jumping like his cute bunny while your tits are in his starved mouth. rushing his hot tongue over your nipples, teeth sinking in gently. sucking and pulling with his lips as he studies you with exhilaration.

    “who's a good cock whore for daddy?” jean hums, a free hand swatting your ass for the fifth time now, encased by heat. feels like it's swollen. the yelp you exude makes him weak. you're so fucking sexy it makes no goddamn sense. “huh?”

    “me, baby!” you sniffle cutely, slowing down and sitting down fully, gyrating, losing your balance.

    “unh uh,” jean slaps your ass, your scream defeaning. “who said to stop? keep fucking going.”

    the car is hot, no doubt. doesn't help that the windows aren't down and your seats are leather. jean’s lower back is sticky with sweat. his gear still on, shirt lifted only to his midsection. gun inside of your center console for safety. a broken whine falters from you as you rise up again, shifting your legs so one foot is flat on the floor and the other by his torso. he grabs that leg, keeping your knee bent once you find your pace again.

    “s’in my tummy,” both of you look there in sync, jean snickering when you whine. it’s too dark to notice but both of you could feel it.

    “clear as day, sweetheart. it's what makes me so proud of you. taking all my dick likes it's yours to own.”

    “it is mine,” you pout sadly.

    “mmm,” he tongues his inner cheek before grinning. “you want it back?”

it dawns on you for a second, realizing what he really meant. gulping, you nod. real you will have a conversation with yourself later. you’re dick drunk right now. totally different person.

“show me, then we'll decide.”

his girl. it’s what you are, how you feel. that’s the title that’ll always be yours to hold. doesn’t matter what happens between you two. who may interfere. you’re jean’s girl until death. that’s your man. and you made sure to fuck him good just so he could remember that. picking yourself up and dropping your ass down harder, faster. jean’s hissing, brows bent as he fists your dress he tightened on your stomach rougher. he can’t control himself when he helps you out by lifting his hips to collide with the flush of your skin, groaning deeply, jaw slacking.

    “take your fucking dick, baby. take your fuckin’ dick,” jean growls by your ear after you fall forward, crying extremely loud it scares him for a second, thinking you’re in pain. it just so happens you’re overwhelmed with pleasure, the octave in your tone raising higher. it’s a noise he’s never, ever heard emit from you before. it stuns him, so bewildered by it that he halts completely.

   “jean, m’ . . . ” it’s too fast the way you switch your position. bringing both your knees on either side of his slim figure, clutching his long hair, pleading and whimpering in his neck. you entire body’s trembling. “pleaseplease.”

jean listens to your sign without hesitation. angling his body to drill his cock into you while holding you down with his arm thrown around your waist, foot implanted on the seat while his other hand spread your cheeks apart, fingers sprawled over your hot skin. balls slapping as your sluice pussy covers his dick. when you cum you’re absolutely gone. laying your forehead against the door, shaking, screaming, crying. all of it is just what he needs cum on the globes of your ass, pulling out swiftly and moaning into your chest.

    “you don't know what you do to me.”

        visual. visual.

© 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞.

[poesiescendrees]

BLUE ORANGE - FREE OF USE

téléchargement bleu orange + passe au noir et blanc qualité & facilité d’adaptation : moyenne

hey ! je fais un peu le tri dans mes anciens psd et je suis retombée sur celui-là, je le mets à disposition de celleux que ça intéresserait. c’est un coloring qui colore très fort la photo de façon évidente, une série de réglages sont intégrés pour passer à du noir et blanc. n’hésitez pas à le modifier avec les deux calques de réglages les plus bas (les niveaux pour adapter la luminosité; la saturation & hue pour ne pas tirer trop sur le vert ou être sursaturé).

sur ce, enjoy <3

[haulogerie]

Check out @artisansdegeneve’s latest personalization project, La Grand Bleu. This particular customization is a nod to the ocean's depths and the client's passion. It features a skeletonized movement and dial completely reworked from the original Deep Sea design, with different hues of blue making up the piece’s dramatic aesthetic from the ceramic bezel to the dial to the movement plate. ⁣#artisansdegeneve ⁣ ⁣ ⁣ Personalized by Artisans de Genève, which is not affiliated or authorized by ROLEX SA. A customization option available solely for private individuals who own a Rolex and only for their private use. https://www.instagram.com/p/CZtxtDtPUZi/?utm_medium=tumblr

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode illustrée, no. 16, 21 avril 1878, Paris. Toilettes de Madame Fladry, 43, rue Richer. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Description de toilettes:

Jupe en tissu de soie façonné, nuance prune. Le devant est garni d'un volant de même soie façonné, coupé de plis perpendiculaires en faye unie de même teinte; polonaise princesse en même soie, avec encolure ouverte, garnie d'un demi-fichu continuant la draperie de la polonaise, laquelle est garnie d'une frange treillagée et retenue par des nœuds de ruban rose.

Robe en faye nuance bronze et faye bleu ciel. Celle-ci est entièrement recouverte de broderie en soie bronze. Jupe en faye bronze, garnie d'un volant plissé, avec tablier bleu ciel; polonaise en même faye, fendue sur le côté et drapée devant sur le tablier; par devant et à chaque pointe inférieure, nœuds en ruban bleu ciel, paletot en faye bronze, avec plastron bleu ciel, col marin et revers de manches en même faye bleu ciel, couverte de broderie en soie bronze.

–

Skirt in shaped silk fabric, plum shade. The front is trimmed with a flounce of the same fashioned silk, cut with perpendicular pleats in plain faye of the same hue; princess polonaise in the same silk, with open neckline, trimmed with a half-fichu continuing the drapery of the polonaise, which is trimmed with a lattice fringe and held in place by knots of pink ribbon.

Dress in bronze shade faye and sky blue faye. This is entirely covered with bronze silk embroidery. Skirt in bronze faye, trimmed with a pleated flounce, with sky blue apron; polonaise in the same faye, slit on the side and draped in front over the apron; in front and at each lower point, knots in sky blue ribbon, overcoat in bronze faye, with sky blue plastron, sailor collar and cuffs in the same sky blue faye, covered with bronze silk embroidery.

[rozengrotto]

Vil + Idia: I'll Bring Out the Best In You

(a oneshot in which Vil decides to do Idia’s make-up for the entrance ceremony...and tries to teach him something about the beauty inside him)

“Ah, Roi du Poison! Immaculate! Simply immaculate! The way he leads the brush, like an artist painting the piece of his life time. I'm speechless by his grace, his elegance. Beauté! 100 points!”

“Rook, you sure like to run your mouth.”, Vil muttered under his breath. The Pomefiore student was in the midst of tracing around Idia's eye with a jetblack liner. Once he was satisfied with the result, he moved on to the other eye, repeating the same practiced motions.

Ignihyde's dormhead looked anything but happy in his current position. All the fussing around, the stench of flowery perfume and being handled around like a make-up doll was like a nightmare come true for a tranquility-loving hikkikomori such as him.

“C-can I go now?”

“No. I'm not finished with you yet.”

Manicured nails dug into ghostly pale skin as Vil gripped Idia's chin and directed it to face the other way.

“You are a dormhead now, a figure of respect, and as such you need to take proper care of your appearance. All those students in the dormitory you lead look up to you and expect nothing but perfection.”

Idia swallowed hard, sinking a little more into his seat.

“G-great. Now I'm even more on edge.”, he mumbled grimly.

A smirk stretched onto Vil's lips as he started to apply some concealer for the shadows under Idia's eyes. Gods, this boy needed more sleep.

Vil would have to set him some clear boundaries such as no playing video games in the dead of the night and also no binge-watching whatever cutesy anime show he was into this time.

Also he mentally noted to let Idia see the sun some more, because – goodness gracious, people could get blinded by that toothpastey white skin and unhealthy complexion of Ignihyde's leader. A life spent inside all day in his dark room wasn't doing his body any favors.

“E-everyone's expectations are too high. 0% of reaching the goal at this point. I'd initiate a retreat and abort the mission until my l-level's a bit higher – ah!”

Vil had yanked a flaming strand a bit too harshly.

“So you want to give up? Go back to your room and stick your head into the sand like a coward potato?”

“Uhm...yeah, kinda?”

Pomefiore's dorm leader huffed. “Unbelievable. However, it's a pity you think so, because I surely won't let you shirk your duties.”

Having said that, Vil let the fireproof hairbrush run through locks of blue fire in an attempt to tame some of the especially stubborn blazing curls of the fellow third year student.

“Roi de ta Chambre, please do tell, what sort of lipstick do you use? That hue of deep blue is quite wonderful, I think it would fit Vil's beauty as well.”, Rook asked with his usual grandeur as he assisted Vil by handing him the tools he needed to work on Idia's appearance.

“I d-don't use lipstick...my lips are naturally colored like that.”

The hunter's eyes widened and his hands shot up in front of his chest.

“Sacre bleu! How magnificent! I've never heard of such a thing!“

In contrast to Rook's marvel, Vil seemed unfazed and instead ordered: “Now, would you please look into the mirror?”

“D-do I have to? Really?”

Vil arched a blond eyebrow.

“What? Are you afraid of turning into stone from seeing your own face?”

Idia flinched a little, his shoulders drawing up to make himself small.

“Uh, I...I am not...really a fan of...l-looking at myself. My hair's awful and I'm...not really handsome overall, so...I don't need to be reminded of that e-every time.”

Pomefiore's leader suddenly stopped with his ministration of Idia's hair and bent down to look into the other's eyes. Idia's first instinct was too quickly avert his gaze with a squeak, but Vil wouldn't let that happen as he firmly captured Idia's bony face with both of his hands.

“Idia. Look at me.”

Ignihyde's dormhead shifted uncomfortably around, amber eyes shyly flickering towards Vil and then quickly back again.

“Never put yourself down like this. I don't want to ever hear such things from your mouth again.”

Some of the strictness left the blond's features again and his violet gaze softened a little.

“Listen. There's beauty in everyone of us. Some of it more hidden, some of it more blatant. As a sworn ambassador of grace and elegance, it's my job to polish that beauty of yours and make everyone else witness how you truly shine inside. You see? Would the famous Vil Schönheit really spend his valuable time working on a lump of coal if he didn't know that you were secretly a diamond in the rough?”

Rendered speechless by Vil's encouraging words, Idia could only stare as a soft hand moved his flaming bangs to the side, revealing his pale forehead.

“Almost like a different person, don't you think so? Beauty requires a lot of hard work and dedication. However, you can do anything you set your mind to if you really want. Even you.” Pomefiore's dormhead smiled as he watched the other student gape at his reflection in the mirror.

Their moment of wonder was interrupted when Rook clasped his hands together and cooed: “Magnifique! Vil, your words are a poem that would even let the Greek masters go green with envy! My heart has swollen numerous times with pride. Such beauty. Such poise. Ah, I feel like fainting.”

“I was merely speaking the truth.”, Vil stated courtly, picking up the brush again to continue his work.

“Uhm, th-thank you. I...I appreciate what you're doing, Vil-shi, really, b-but...we're not done yet?”

Idia fumbled with his hands.

“I...uh, there's a pick-up event in a game I like and it's running out in a few hours, so maybe we could postpone-”

Vil's face hardened.

“No. What is more important in this world, Idia Shroud? Beauty or a video game?”

“I...don't think my answer will satisfy you.”

“Good. Then keep that mouth of yours shut and let me turn you into a diamond.”

[bleu-de-hue]

LOTUS FLOWER

Has anyone ever seen a lotus flower on ceramic like this? Yes! only at Bleu-De-Hue

Enjoy it!

Handcrafted Vietnamese Pottery

[bagsbusiness]

Hermès Resellers: Top Hermès Bags to Invest in The Summer

The allure of Hermès handbags transcends seasons. But for the savvy summer shopper, specific Birkins, Kellys, and rising stars emerge as contenders for the title of "best investment piece." 

Let's delve into the world of Hermès and explore the hottest bags to elevate your summer wardrobe, while potentially securing a future windfall. Remember that you can become an Hermès reseller and sell or buy your original Hermès handbags on Resellers Connector without commissions.

Classic with a Twist: The Enduring Appeal of Birkin and Kelly

These iconic styles reign supreme for a reason. Their timeless design, impeccable craftsmanship, and limited availability make them perennial favorites. Here's a summery spin on these classics:

Birkin Sellier Faubourg en fête: This limited-edition Birkin in vibrant, summery hues like "Bleu Mykonos" or "Jaune Tournesol" is a collector's dream. The playful "Fête" embossing adds a touch of whimsy, perfect for poolside soirees.

Kelly Ado: The clean lines and structured silhouette of the Kelly make a chic summer statement. Opt for a smaller size like the Kelly 25 in a bright, seasonal color like "Rose Sakura" or "Vert Criquet" to add a pop to your summer whites.

Rising Stars: Hermès Bags with Investment Potential

While Birkin and Kelly are sure bets, some lesser-known Hermès bags to invest are gaining traction and could be tomorrow's coveted classics:

Arçon bag: This versatile tote is ideal for summer getaways. Its clean design and spacious interior make it perfect for carrying beach essentials or shopping finds. Look for it in luxurious materials like Tadelakt leather for a sophisticated touch.

Haut à Courroies coup de soleil bag: This playful bucket bag is a delightful summer companion. The vibrant "coup de soleil" (sunburn) colorway is a true conversation starter, and the drawstring closure ensures your belongings are secure.

Investing Beyond the Bag: Material Matters

When considering investment potential of Hermès bags, look beyond the style. Here are some material choices that tend to hold their value, or even appreciate:

Exotic Skins: Crocodile, ostrich, and lizard skin Hermès bags are coveted for their rarity and luxurious feel. While the initial price tag is steeper, these bags can fetch a significant premium on the resale market.

Rare or Discontinued Leathers: Hermès occasionally releases special leathers with unique textures or finishes. These limited-edition materials can make a bag even more desirable to collectors.

Remember: Investing in a Hermès bag requires a long-term commitment. Market fluctuations can occur, so prioritize acquiring a piece you genuinely love and will use, with the potential for resale as a bonus.

[penhero]

The Esterbrook Estie Nouveau Bleu is now available! Here’s the story of this richly colorful pen: At the turn of the 19th century, the artist Alphonse Mucha was at the height of his career. A fine artist, whose name is now synonymous with the art nouveau style, the Czech Mucha came from an illustration background and became widely and commercially well-known through his advertisements for everything from chocolate to cigarettes to laundry detergent. Living in Paris, Mucha was also celebrated for his idealized female figures that were often based on Parisian film stars and glitterati, and his work included his years studying, drawing, and painting film actress and icon, Sarah Bernhardt. His portraits of her were printed as large-scale posters heralding his commercial work which took advantage of new advances in printing. In 1887, the invention of celluloid film paved the way for Mucha to become the first artist to work directly from photography. Thusly, his color palette was often the rich, warm, pastel tones of photographs and he used these hues to create Mucha women with flowing hair that matched the flourish of his gorgeous lettering and typefaces. Within this range of color emerges a signature eau de nil blue that Mucha used to clothe the women in lush drapery, illuminate the skies behind them, give them wings and surround them with waves of water. This newest addition to the core range of Esterbook Estie’s celebrates the innovation of Mucha’s work and his particular shades of blue, blended into a material that reflects the celluloid of pen making past. You can find them at penherostore.com and our eBay store at https://www.ebay.com/str/penherostore #pencollecting #fountainpen #esterbrook #estie #nouveau #mucha #penhero https://www.instagram.com/p/CU8X_9KP3OC/?utm_medium=tumblr

[loaded-gunshots]

can u mention some of your favorite blogs i’m new here and need people to follow

sure, @pinkk-hues @random-kuwaiti @sinfuldesiress @neverr-ending @eunoiaa-s @down-4you @urs-truly @teintes-de-bleu @typical-me

[snjarsdglu]

✨  uraz  kaygılaroğlu ,cismale,him/he    —    whenever i see sanjar sodoglu meandering down agnes street you give love a bad name by bon jovi starts to play inside my head. maybe it is the vibe they give off. A well clean suit, the smell of bleu de chanel, grassy intense hues;   you know ? Islesbury aquarium is what keeps them interested in agnes. i heard they are  thirty-five year old owner of sadaglu casino . they look like the kind of person who have the world in their hands .  ( tatia,25,est,she/her )

tw: death,mafia,drugs,grief

SANJAR - means young king or at least that’s what his mother used to tell him as she put him to bed. telling him stories about all the great kings &. how he would be one when he grew up. as the youngest of all his siblings he tended to get away with most of the chaos that he caused but it definitely didn’t go unnoticed, whenever he would walk into his fathers office he knew that it was either something good or something bad. usually it would end with him being reprimanded and his father telling him that every choice that he made had a consequence, they were gods but even gods failed sometimes. 

THE PARTY - the party that never stopped, he was only a child  ( if you can say that ) when his family moved to agnes . indulging in the beauty that the city had to offer him &. his family. it didn’t take long for the Sadaglu name to be known around agnes, people knew who he was &. that pesky ego of his always seemed to get the best of him. though at times it would seem that he was this cocky specimen, that wasn’t all he was. he loved his sister &. brothers. respected them &. would die for them. as when the opportunity came to finally join the family business he took it without a second thought. in his mother’s eyes, he would always be young sanjar but now he was something different. he felt it, some type of monster all together. the amount of blood on his hands was enough to fuel the mississippi river &. for some reason that didn’t bother him, it was something that he simply did. 

TRAGEDY - seems to strike in the most inopportune times. as sanjar grew older the discussions with his father seems to be worse &. worse : don’t do this sanjar, you’re going to draw attention to yourself sanjar, why can’t you be a more level headed sanjar. it was always something that this father had to say &. even though it bothered him, he knew that this father only did it with his best interest but he simply didn’t want to hear it &. in a fury of anger , vicious words left his lips ; bazen juay'ın ölmesini diliyorum! without a second glance he made it out of his fathers study &. home pushing past his mother. connection was very limited between himself &. burak , only speaking whenever it was necessary. one afternoon he makes it to his parents home, it’s all too quiet &. as he makes his way to his fathers study he sees burak on the floor, racing to his fathers aide he’s covered in blood &. In that moment he regrets it , every word , every tantrum . every damn fight that he had with his father, this couldn’t end like this. it simply couldn’t . he’s trying to keep his father there with him as much as he can but there is nothing he can do. after his older brother arrives things seems to be taken over &.The youngest sadaglu is to the side with his knees against his chest, he’s covered in blood &. a lost look in his eyes whispering : I did this ,  I did this. I wished this upon him. slowly rocking back &. forth like a metal person . 

THE AFTERMATH -  of burka’s death left many in questionable thoughts. for one sanjar himself was in despair, the conversations with his siblings was non existent &. he wouldn’t spend more than five minutes with his mother on his phone. it seemed that the only thing that got him out of the house was work &. even that. it’s been sometime since everything &. he’s slowly getting back into who he once was but the darkness seems to follow the youngest sadaglu. how long before it takes over completely ?