Sauer Castle, a 19th century Italianate mansion nestled on the top of a hill overlooking the Kansas River, was built in 1871 and is said to be the site of much paranormal activity. The first occupant was Anton Sauer, who moved to Kansas City following the death of his wife. He then began a relationship with 28-year-old widow, Mary Einhellig Messerschmidt. The couple married and Mary brought along her two daughters to live in the castle with Anton and his own five children. Mary went on to give birth to five more children, one of whom died in infancy and was buried on the grounds. Tragically, Anton died from tuberculosis the following month in the master bedroom.
A total of five generations of the Sauer family lived and died inside the castle, one of which was a suicide. It is said that every single member of the Sauer family is buried somewhere in the grounds of the castle. Today, the castle is shrouded in legends and rumours. They say that a woman hanged herself in the tower of the castle. Another legend says that a man murdered his entire family in the Sauer Castle before burying them on the grounds.
Whatever the truth may be, there have been a number of reports of ghastly and ghostly happenings in and around the castle. Neighbours often claim to witness floating lights and hear disembodied voices and laughter. They say that it’s quite common for folks to see the apparition of a man and woman dancing in the castle tower on Halloween and if you’re lucky, you can catch a glimpse of an apparition of a woman pacing back and forth throughout the gloomy nights.
New Orleans’ Garden District and Why You Need it in Your Life-
My first time visiting New Orleans was when I was 20 years old in the middle of a national tour with only one day to experience and enjoy it as much as I could, and I did. I immediately immersed myself in the culture and fell madly in love, as if I just discovered who I was and what I truly loved. Typically when people think of New Orleans they think barbaric college kids, mardi gras beads, or a rundown urban ghetto… which in a sense is dead on if you have tunnel vision, but there is SO much more to this city.
The Garden District/Uptown area is my absolute favorite neighborhood of anywhere I have ever been. The area was originally developed between 1832 and 1900 and is
considered one of the best-preserved collections of historic Southern mansions in the United States. What initially took my breath away was the architecture. I have always had a profound love for opulent, mid-1800′s architecture including Greek Revival, Colonial, and Victorian styles such as Italianate, and Queen Anne, but had never seen them so vast in person. The second showstopper was how the foliage abounds far and wide; from the tree lined streets, to the lush gardens nearly every home possessed. It is positively one of the most visually appealing places in the United States.
Below I have comprised a list of 10 places you MUST enjoy during your next visit to New Orleans in order of how they appear above. Enjoy:
1. The Wedding Cake House This ostentatious Victorian, Georgian revival mansion is one of the most prominent and recognizable historical residences along St. Charles Ave. Can you imagine an entire neighborhood of these? Built in 1896-Located at 5809 St. Charles Ave.
2. The Carroll-Crawford House The elegant, but dark Italianate design with the fine cast-iron double galleries will always remind me of the first time I saw this type of architecture… Disneyland’s Haunted House; it was surreal. Built in 1869-Located at 1315 First Street.
3. St. Charles Street Car You can hop on at several locations along St Charles and Carrollton and jump off at the French Quarter On Carondelet/Canal St. or vice versa AND it’s only $3 for a day pass.
4. Lafayette Cemetery Known for its old, often crumbling, and occasionally open, above ground tombs, Lafayette is easily one of the most fascinating cemeteries you will ever visit. Although St. Louis Cemetery is generally the first sought after by tourists due to it’s location in the French Quarter and the graves of more celebrities, Lafayette is much more serene and picturesque cemetery that you could probably spend hours in. Established in 1833-Located at: 2010 Washington Ave.
Tips: There are gates on each of the roads around the cemetery, but only the Washington and Sixth St are unlocked. Also, there is an awesome coffee shop across the street called Still Perkin’.
5. Blue Phoenix This is a wonderful place to acquire metaphysical and new age supplies including: herbs, oils, incense, amulets, cool candles, crystals, voodoo dolls and other spiritual supplies. Located at: 4304 Magazine St.
6. Sucre An Uptown sweet boutique that features an assortment
of handcrafted, luscious chocolates, fresh gelato, one-of-a-kind pastry
masterpieces and super-premium coffees. Located at: 3025 Magazine St.
7. Audubon Park This is a beautiful Uptown park that borders both the Mississippi River and St. Charles Ave. with a great set of walking/bike paths and plenty of benches near the lake, under the overgrown, live oak trees, also adjacent to the Audubon Zoo. Located at: 6500 Magazine St.
8. Commander’s Palace You will find this place at the top of every “Where to Eat in New Orleans” list. Located just across the street from the Lafayette Cemetery, this large, but intimate Victorian house is the perfect place to get some of the best Southern food New Orleans has to offer. Located at: 1403 Washington Ave. Established in 1880
9. Dos Jefes Cigar Bar If you’re interested in a more relaxed, but entertaining place to enjoy your evening, Dos Jefes features live jazz with great top shelf liquor and there is never a cover charge. Located at: 5535 Tchoupitoulas St.
10. Hubbard Mansion B&B This is an exquisite family owned business located in the heart of the Garden District that offers five exquisitely furnished suites in the Main House, and two
executive apartments. The beautiful rooms
recall the grandeur of 19th century New Orleans. The St Charles Street Car stops right out front for a convenient, quick ride to the French Quarter. Located at: 3535 St. Charles Ave.
THE VIEW FROM HERE: Istanbul has been a crossroads for centuries. Now the forces of modernity - of art and commerce, globalism and gentrification - have brought the city to another turning point - photography: Tom Parker - text: Carl Swanson - Travel & Leisure November 2015
Interior of the new Soho House Instanbul,in the Beyoglu neighborhood is located in the historic Palazzo Corpi a white, Italian-style mansion built by a Genoese ship owner for his family in 1873
The second I agreed to get fatter with Justin, he created a gainer profile for me on all social media and mapped out a history of my weight gain. I knew I had gained around 35 pounds when I was living with Austin, but after I moved out my fat ass hadn’t once stepped on a scale. We discovered that between the time I moved out of Austin’s and when Justin and I became official, I had gained a little over 20 pounds. This was the first moment in my life when I took a step back and realized, “wow, I’ve gained over 50 pounds. I’m fat.” I could grab two meaty handfuls of belly fat. Even my butt was soft and dimpled now.
It wasn’t long before I had before and after photos of my gain posted, alongside videos of Justin shaking and slapping my gut online. I was shocked by how many followers I accrued in a short amount of time. I never had people admire my body to such a high degree, and I must admit- it was addicting.
Within three months of Justin introducing me to Grommr, I had gained 30 pounds. Realizing you’re fat is one thing, but with all that new weight on me I felt positively massive. My love handles bounced with every step, and threatened to make an appearance every time I moved my body. Stretch marks ran up and down my thighs which rubbed holes in all my underwear. Large shirts now clung to the fat rolls filling my lap. My stomach was getting in the way of just about everything. Lifting crates at work had become harder, bus seats were a struggle, and restaurant booths were starting to become my enemy. I documented all of this online, and my followers were salivating at their keyboards.
At first, my newfound flab was doing wonders for mine and Justin’s sex life. We would stuff each other silly before fucking, sometimes even incorporating food in the bedroom. Justin had gained some weight too, but I was the one that was really blowing up. We were both getting so fat that lovemaking became a logistical puzzle, often requiring me to lift my stomach to allow easy access to my cock.
Unfortunately, once I got plump enough for Justin’s taste, he turned his attention to a new muscled stud who was packing on the pounds. We had an open relationship, but Justin’s infatuation with this other man eventually drove us apart. Of course, I was upset about the break up. Although I did take it as an opportunity to comfort eat to my belly’s desire. Furthermore, I still had an internet presence. I had made friendships with many guys online, and frankly there was no shortage of chubby chasing men who wanted a taste of me in Seattle.
Working at the brewery became increasingly awkward after the break up, and eventually I found a new job at a grocery store. It paid well, but I was on my feet a lot. This was killer now that I was hefting almost 100 pounds of extra blubber around. However, the benefit of discount groceries was certainly good for my waistline.
I felt confident in my chubby body even after breaking up with Justin, and I didn’t want to give up on my newfound curves or fame. As I grew, so did my online following, and for a while this provided enough encouragement for me to forge ahead with getting fatter. I continued to hit the gym as well, and was becoming positively massive. I’d waddle from machine to machine with a crescent of underbelly wobbling out of the bottom of my shirt. I reveled in the stares I received from the fit and lean gym goers. I even had a couple of the employees suggest I try cardio once in awhile. I would always politely inform them: “I love food so much there’s no hope I’ll ever lose this belly.”
Eventually my weight did plateau. I had finally reached the point that I was almost always the “fat guy” in the room. I still wanted more, though. For two months my weight never fluctuated more than a few pounds. One day, I discovered a documentary about gaining on TV. I quickly opened my laptop to do some research and found something truly fantastic. Two gainers in Italy, Grasello and Nicoli, were opening their countryside estate to the public in an effort to start a literal “Fat Farm.” Admission was dependent upon an application which required a written weight gain history, future goals, and links to your social media presence. The Fat Farm guaranteed you would meet or exceed your goal weight or your money back. Plus, you got to lounge in a beautiful Italian mansion and eat gourmet food prepared by a chef whenever you wanted. It seemed like a gainer’s fantasy come to life, and it wasn’t that expensive. I immediately began filling out an application.
SPAMANO WEEK (just to let you know, I am not answering any story asks during this week for all my time will be put on this week, but make sure to send me how you like my stories! Thank you -Germany Sass)
July 30 / Day 1: Dresses (Canonverse)
(it’s Drag queen guys, thank @yochan and @short-and-really-angry @spamanoweek2016 (??) for this, Romano has a teensy little very minimal secret, and when Spain finds his makeup he might have to come clean)
Spain liked to pride himself in being very good at picking out when people were lying to his face. So when his boyfriend tells him he can’t go to dinner for the third time this week, because of other commitments, he was suspicious.
Don’t get him wrong! He trusted Romano with all his heart, but he knew there was something he wasn’t telling him. After an hour of trying to pry the answer out, he got nothing but a salty ‘leave me alone’.
Other commitments was a big word for Romano, what could be more important than dinner! At! His! Favorite! Restaurant!!!
“Romano, love?” He called opening the door to the Italian Villa/Mansion thingy. Tonight the love of his existence was out doing his other commitments (add sarcasm here) and lil Italy was doing something with Germany.
He tuned out really what was going on, because when Italy talked about business he got really expressive and the whole time he was just dodging the flying hands. Immigration was a key word so he just assumed it had to do with some vague immigration-thingy-o-bobber.
The house was silent and that was a new one, usually the kitchen was filled with sunlight while pans were clicked around and Italy was doing evil telephone calls, but now Spain could hear the clacking of his shoes. Subtly, he hung up his coat and tested the dust on Stalin’s bust under the chandelier of the foyer, no dust, Romano was fresh here.
The testy rat must of left for his other commitments just an hour ago, so if he was right, he should have just about ten minutes to search for anything that might be taking up his time.
Examples would be, a book (book club?), paper work (business?), a picture of another man (an affair????). “Now you’re just being silly,” Spain told himself, peeking into the living room, “Romano loves you, why would he pull an affair?”
Everything bad came to his mind and he had to tell himself to shut up. Romano loved him, no he still loves him, dearly! He’s allowed to do something without Spain, but leaving it vague was not what he liked to hear. He wasn’t controlling, just protective.
There was a pool slowly filling in his stomach and God it made him feel heavy. Spain didn’t even want to test the black sludge of the word, divorce. He climbed the stairs getting to the second level of the mansion.
The hallway was long with gold walls and red carpet, it sort of screamed that the Italy brothers could afford the best Gucci. Or maybe Romano using his credit card for that.
At the end of the hallway was a door slightly ajar… that’s Romano’s room. Spain knew that all too well from many, many saucy nights, but now the room looked threatening. He closed his eyes as he stepped down the hallway and pushed the door opened.
The room was perfect, nothing out of the place, far too perfect. Stepping in, he closed the door behind him and stood back, the window was closed (that was an X, Romano had the windows open all the time), the big comfy cream bed was made (even the stuff animal he gave him was sitting in the middle, take your judging eyes off me Mr. Fluffy) the vanity had a substance on. It was powdery.
Spain tried to ignore the gasping voice in his head (drugs????), no, Romano was a good boy and the powdery had a darker color. Opening the side drawer he found a vague flowery bag. When he picked it up it was heavy, the contents clicking together. Setting it on the vanity he looked into his reflection and opened the bag.
“What in the world are you doing in my room!”
This was when Spain had the biggest heart attack in the world. He turned around to find Romano standing at the door with his hand on his hip like an angry mom. Like the flowery bag was a hot pan, Antonio dropped it on the vanity and tried to cover it up with his body.
“Why are you snooping in my vanity?” Romano decided to change the question.
“What are you hiding in the bag, Romano!” Spain snapped back.
With delirious eyes, he watched as his boyfriend smile and motion for him to check himself. Like a mad bull, he opened the bag and was greeted with…
Makeup? There were different powders, concealer, eye shadows, even something that looked similar to a pencil. Lifting up the glass bottle of foundation and a tiny jar of cream he set it down, “is this yours?”
“No it’s my girlfriend’s,” Romano sneered sarcastically as he stood beside Antonio to put it away, “and I’d like it if you don’t mess with my shit, it’s expensive.”
Staring at his face a little harder he noticed that Romano’s face was the same freckled goodness it always been, “if it’s expensive why aren’t you wearing it.”
With a sniffle of adorable snorts, he looked up between his thick eyelashes to give him a smile, “I only wear it sometimes, because it is expensive, now why are you snooping in my house.”
A shy blush filled his cheeks as Spain went rigid, scratching the back of his neck as he laughed nervously, “I was worried, you know how I get, this is the third time you missed our dinner,” the last part he mumbled quietly.
Their dinners were a corner stone of their relationship, everything was put down during those hours of prepping, eating, and cleaning.
There was a flash of hurt pass Romano’s eyes as his cockiness fell, “I’m sorry, babe,” Spain almost rolled his eyes as the pet name was just thrown in. He hated it when Romano knew he was wrong and he did things that purposely pissed him the hell off and he just thinks he can get off with a shy I love you and a baby.
“Romano, really, I think I’m done with you at the moment,” he sighed rolling his eyes ignoring the squeak of finally getting a hit in.
“On Friday I do drag.”
“You do what?”
“Like you know, drag racing, being a drag queen!”
“Yeah I know, but why on Friday!! That’s our date night!”
Romano just stared him like he grew three heads, “god, I should of known. I was afraid to tell you, because I thought you were going to call me weird.”
“Weird? I’m heart broken you don’t trust me enough!” Spain countered as he embraced his boyfriend tightly, Romano easily finding his place with his head tucked into the other’s neck and the feeling of being weightless, “I don’t think you’re weird, it’s probably cool and stuff.”
Romano let out a muffled laugh into his chest and gave him a weak shove, “you’re an absolute asshole.”
“Why aren’t you'know, dragging right now?” He didn’t really know the correct term (dragging? Queening? Slaying?) so he just kept to dragging.
“Well I would, but I got an alarm system on the house and I was alerted that some snoopy boyfriend was going through my make up.”
A wave of guilt filtered over Antonio as he awkwardly scratched his scalp, “sorry babe,” he leant down to press a kiss to Lovino’s lip, he tasted like cherry (lipstick?), they broke with a breath, Lovino leaning in on his chest to rub their noses and press their foreheads together.
“I forgive you, love you.”
“And I love you,” he pressed another kiss to the crease of the cherry tasting lips and stepped back to loot through the make up, “now show me what I should say so I don’t look obscenely awkward if I want to support and love you.”
“You’re such a goddamn nerd!”
After picking up some of the things Romano left at the house, he brought him to a bar. It was clean, one of those special Italian bars with a big stage. A gaggle of boys greeted Romano, asking about the break in and if his house was okay, with he put it off with a hand and introduced Antonio.
“They are my drag sisters, guys this is my clueless boyfriend.”
He felt a hand touch his shoulder, feeling up his bicep, “he is quite fit,” one of Romano’s friends smiled.
“He’s mine, by the way,” Romano snapped pulling his away from his friends, “we are getting married in June,” he bluffed.
“Sure,” Spain snickered ruffling the younger’s hair. Romano was very possessive of things that were his, kind of like a big child.
They talked for a little bit about the thing Romano missed, something about some killer stage show and they left to the back room. Spain sat on a little stool as he watched Romano apply make up to his face, it was almost perfect the way as the nude tinted brush slid across his smooth cheek, or how he swept a beautiful purple that made his green eyes pop.
Sliding his curls into a wig cap and applied a straight brown wig, he swept the long locks over his shoulder as he fixed it to be cleaner on his face, “and for the finishing touch.” He smiled and from a bright pink trunk he held up a fancy red dress. “It reminded me of you, those tango dresses,” even with the layers of make up, Spain could still pick up the shy blush as he stepped behind a screen paneling and applying the fake wear (‘the butt, the boobs, and all in between!’ Romano chimed as he slapped on his wear)
“It’s very pretty!” Antonio cheered, the burgundy dress swished out, a skeleton on the inside kept it in shape with pretty bows lining the side. The top was cut low showing off the fake breasts that didn’t really look that fake.
Doing a spin, the dressed flared in style as he showed off the different looks, “of course, I usually don’t wear this dress, I think I bought it just for you.”
Spain’s heart swelled as he stepped off his tiny boyfriend stool to embrace his lovely, beautiful, 10/10 boyfriend (and everything in between). He was just glad it wasn’t an affair, having a Hannah Montana like boyfriend who was sexy Italian representative by day, drag queen by night seemed like a better play.
Kingston Onatraio ~ Canada ~ Penitentiary Museum ~ Historic Buiding ~ Cedarhedge by Onasill ~ Bill Badzo Via Flickr: Built entirely by convict labour under the supervision of staff Trade Instructors, the house took nearly 3 years to build. The cost? Approximately $ 9,000.00 (in 1873 dollars). Designed in the Italianate Vernacular style by Acting Penitentiary Architect, Henry H. Horsey, it was constructed using a combination of local Kingston limestone quarried on the penitentiary reserve, with Ohio Sandstone accents. In the late 19th century, the residence became known as “Cedarhedge” in reference to the extensive manicured cedar hedges that once lined the driveway.
Prompt: Can you please do an imagine when you’re Negans daughter and you get taken by another group as revenge and Negan comes to save you?
Ships: None Words: Warnings: Violence, Curses
Negan had gotten out of his armoured car as the door slammed shut. Birds erupted form the trees overhead. The autumn leaves crunched underfoot and there was unmistakable tang of anticipation in the air. He sauntered toward a truck, Lucille dragging on the floor slightly. He climbed on top of the truck and looked out toward his people.
“You all know the plan?” Negan said in a commanding voice. There was a resounding chorus of ‘yes, sir’ and people nodding their head. Negan smiled a satisfied smile as he motioned to Dwight. “D, you take your group round the left side of the house. Simon, you take your group round the right side.”