#biliard

[billiardbay]

www.thebilliardbay.com #billiards #ball #billiard #pool #snooker #ballpool #pooltable #snookertime #poolhall #poolcue #cue #biliard #snookers #snookerplayer #poolplayer #poolplayers #snookerlove #cuesports #billar #bilyard #poolshark #billard #billyard #mancave #gameroom #stikbilyard #billiardtable #restoration #love https://www.instagram.com/p/CnI4-N7LlHA/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[wallpaerm]

Ingin tempat biliard Anda tampil lebih berbeda dan bergaya? Pilihlah wallpaper custom yang bisa disesuaikan dengan keinginan Anda untuk menciptakan suasana yang berbeda dan benar-benar unik.

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Jadi tunggu apa lagi? Segera pasang wallpaper custom. Hubungi sekarang, untuk konsultasi gratis. Wallpaper Indonesia ID siap membantu memasang wallpaper custom sesuai dengan keinginan anda. Jadikan tempat biliard Anda lebih indah dengan wallpaper custom dari wallpaperindonesia.id Whatsapp: 085173450655 Instagram: wallpaperindonesia.id

Wallpaper custom untuk tempat biliard di malang

[bksportshn]

CÁCH TÍNH ĐƯỜNG ĐI CỦA BIDA LỖ CƠ BẢN NHẤT

Khi thực hiện đánh bida lỗ, để đảm bảo đánh chính xác nhất, cơ thủ sẽ cần có cho mình công thức đánh đúng chuẩn. Trong đó sẽ cần chú ý đến một số những yếu tố như: vị trí đặt quả bida, sức đánh đối với từng vị trí bida, hướng dẫn bida và tốc độ đánh.

Bên cạnh đó, đối với những cơ thủ mới chơi cũng cần chú ý đến các quy tắc đánh bida. Hiện nay quy tắc đánh bida sẽ bao gồm: quy tắc 30 độ, quy tắc 45 độ, quy tắc 90 độ. Trong đó quy tắc 30 độ được đánh giá là quy tắc quan trọng nhất trong bida lỗ. 

[nulligraphy-jpg]

Biliard, war ein hartes match!

Pictures by nulligraphy-jpg

[whatsinmymindallthetime]

[untoldextacy]

Cue up 🎱 . . (Adding music to a post is new…) . . #poolcue #snooker #eightball #cuesports #bilyard #biliard #billiards🎱 #9ball #poolplayer #billiard portrait #photography #art #portraitphotography #photooftheday #model #photographer #photo #coexistgaming #coexistgamehouse #coexistgaminghouse #untoldextacy (at Coexist Gaming) https://www.instagram.com/p/CmwdxwCrQZN/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[satu-komando]

Turnamen Billiard 9 Ball Danrem Cup Dalam Rangka HUT Ke-79 TNI Tahun 2024, Resmi Ditutup Danrem 043/Gatam

SATUKOMANDO.COM – Komandan Korem 043/Gatam Brigjen TNI Rikas Hidayatullah, S.E., M.M., Minggu malam (06/10/2024) pukul 22.30 WIB, resmi menutup Turnamen Billiard 9 Ball Danrem Cup dalam rangka HUT Ke-79 TNI Tahun 2024, bertempat di Drachen Billiard dan Coffee Jl. Dr. Harun Kel. Kota Baru Kec. Tanjung Karang Timur, Kota Bandar Lampung. Turnamen Billiard 9 Ball Danrem Cup diikuti 74 peserta atlet…

[elvestoneanzelote1]

Good morning/evening/night

I want to request zhongli/albedo!reader unintentionally doing something suggestive and not realising it, like maybe he just stretching while making a bit noise but the yandere think otherwise or reader is playing biliard and he bend down but ended grabbing the attention of the yandere OR one the one the port mafia member passed reader office but hear reader making certain noise and burst the door but it was just reader getting massage

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰! 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥... 𝘈𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵... 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵... 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘴𝘰... 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵.

𝘈𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘵!

𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘐 𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘣𝘶𝘵... 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵

𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯'𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘵.

Since y/n naturally stays confined to his office more likely to spend a lot of his time there.

Mori was the one who suggested playing billiards though some agreed because Mori was after all the boss except y/n.

You were firmed on your standing on not opening your own office doors.

"Come on, Y/n-kun~! It is a one-time opportunity to get out of your office and enjoy"

"I'm fine with how I am stating, Please leave my door your voice is disturbing my listening to music day" You simply replied as Mori pouted and started to pace around the door.

Then he stopped and let out a sighed.

"All the executives will be there to play! And it is just downstairs!"

"I find no enjoyment in playing such games"

"Come on Y/n-kun! Just one game or you can just watch them play! What say? Company us won't you?"

"The fact that staying with you for even mere minutes can take away my life span"

"Now now, Y/n-kun~ don't say that, as your boss won't you obey my order?"

"Since when does an enjoyment time turn to your order?"

"Well... Others it's their wish but you are the exception"

"Oh, please your exception is the reason why I cannot tolerate been with you, leave"

"Mo~! Don't you want to enjoy and play? A break is nice you know!"

"No"

"Take a break y/n-kun! You work a lot!"

"I already ask for a vacation for a week yet you reject it"

"Well... A break is small but vacation is long so no, Y/n-kun you are indeed needed in Port Mafia you know"

"I have no more time to spent"

"..."

Mori side glance at Kouyou who let out a sighed.

"Y/n aren't you been harsh on Ougai-dono?"

"Do you think I care? Not sh*t"

"Y/n if you don't come out of your office I shall not make tea nor coffee for you for few days"

"..."

"And no more cakes for you either"

"..."

The door opens as you peek out from the door with a slight frown.

"You surely know how to threaten me"

"Of course! We are partners after all!" Says Kouyou who smile as Mori let out a sighed.

'Why doesn't y/n-kun obey me like Kouyou-kun, talk about favoritism'

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

All you wanted was to drink tea and be in peace in your office while hearing rock music.

But today it wasn't a choice for you as you watch Them play.

"Here" Kouyou handed you the stick as you stare at it.

"What?"

"You can't just confine in staying in the corner, You already had a coffee"

"..." You let out a sigh of disapprove .

Chuuya curiously side-glances at Kouyou and then at you who approach the board.

To be honest they were curious about how you play as you bend to shoot.

Avoiding the eyes more likely some of them were slightly flustered while some were... Normal.

"Y/n-kun have a nice ass don't you think? Elise-chan?" Said Mori teasingly as they both stayed on the side alone. While taking notice of Chuuya's flustered face when you lean into the table.

Elise did not bother to warn Mori.

As the ball hit the side table and flew out you just tilted your head to the side letting the pinball hit Mori on the nose.

"Ouch! Ouch!" He groaned in pain as you just passed the stick to someone close to you.

As Kouyou control herself from laughing.

The others try to help Mori who hold his nose.

"Who told you to blabber? You should have concentrated on the game Rintarou" said Elise with a cheeky smile as Mori pouted and pointed his finger at you.

"Why would you aim at me for?"

"I have no idea what this game was, Ask Kouyou she knows how bad I am at games" you simply said and took a seat on the stool Mori muttered something under his breath with Elise healing him.

To say the least, the match ended with you leaving half of the game.

But to be honest they do agree with Mori someway.

But they are glad that they don't speak out like Mori.

What goes on with his mind to blabber it out?

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A:n- that's all good day/night to all!

Sorry if nothing suggestive is written as I am not good with it so...

And yeah there aren't the theme of Yandere but I do hope you enjoy it?

[billiardbay]

www.thebilliardbay.com #billiards #ball #billiard #pool #snooker #ballpool #pooltable #snookertime #poolhall #poolcue #cue #biliard #snookers #snookerplayer #poolplayer #poolplayers #snookerlove #cuesports #billar #bilyard #poolshark #billard #billyard #mancave #gameroom #stikbilyard #billiardtable #restoration #love https://www.instagram.com/p/CnI4-N7LlHA/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thepalaceofharuhime]

Doodled a couple scenes from Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust (filling up my coffee cup) by LilaVaporizer9000 on ao3

Welcome to Chili's we've got 💖uninjured💞 biliard Jenny😚

and drugged😜 up hospital 🤕Tim!

[labuenosairesfrancaise]

Villa Solari (Italian collection VI)

Hace un instante

Hi guys!

I share the 6th building for the collection.

I took some liberties in this italian villa, but follow the floor plan for the piano nobile. This is a project from Guarini, who also designed the Carignano Palace.

It fits a 40x30 lot, and has a stais hall with the honour staricase and the seasons staircase. A formal dinning. A daily dinning, a library, severa sitting rooms, 2 main bedrooms with private sitting rooms + bathrooms. 

In the floor level, there is a biliard room, several servant spaces and a kitchen.

The second floor has several rooms + 2 distinguished gests rooms on each side of the house. 

As allways, you will need the usual CC I use: all of Felixandre, Tha Jim, SYB, Regal Sims, etc.

Early acces (April)

[agentbilliard]

saint senyoyi, better known as agent biliard has been with cerberus corp as an eo since 2023 and is LEVEL III. BEING CRUSHED BY A VENDING MACHINE has gifted them telekinesis, though PHYSICAL INFLUENCE WEAKENING WITH DISTANCE, DISTRACTIONS, AND LARGER WEIGHTS has also been noted. when they aren’t protecting the tri-state area, they are fond of playing rounds of fischer random by his lonesome and are never seen without A LEATHERBOUND JOURNAL. civilians think they are meticulous & benevolent, but some of the other agents see them as NEUROTIC & COWARDLY. cerberus corp should consider the fact that their last mission status was successful, although unsuccessfully cleaning up local garbage might have been more impressive when giving out the next one.

001.  GENERAL

name  saint senyoyi

nicknames  agent billiard, vender bender, any saint under the canonized sun courtesy of agent jester

age  thirty-four

date of birth  march 9, 1989

zodiac  answer

place of birth  harefield, hillingdon, london

current residence  brooklyn, new york city, new york

gender  cis man

pronouns  he/him

orientation  bisexual, biromantic

occupations  level iii agent at cerberus corp, mathematics teacher and head custodian at brooklyn academy of ostentatiously pubescent pricks

faceclaim  daniel kaluuya

height  5’8

tattoos  none (he does, however, have the divine patience and dearth of dignity required to doodle and calculate all over his forearms daily)

piercings  none (he does, however, have a fake nose ring from his stint in a school-sponsored production of annie wherein mr warbucks and his servants made liberal yet incorrect use of african-american vernacular english to teach middle schoolers about the cold war)

distinguishing features  there are few features of saint’s corporeal form that function as evidence of him being a good person, but at a minimum he has good grooming. his collars are pressed to perfection, his trousers are steamed to sublimity, his hair both facial and scalp-al is combed and clipped as much as possible. nonetheless, a good portion of his shirts are stained with presumably non-toxic paint or crumbs of a graphite muffin. the backs of his blazers are often adorned with sticky notes with adorable titles such as ‘YOUNGEST SENIOR CITIZEN’ and ‘NOBODY LIKES MATH’ and ‘MY FAVE FUNCTION IS =3’ from his students. what can he say? he’s sentimental to a fault. and far too broke to go to the laundromat every week.

positive traits  altruistic, diligent, humble, observant, organized, polite, pragmatic

negative traits  craven, cynical, deceitful, insecure, perfectionistic, pessimistic, unyielding

labels / tropes  absent-minded professor, bad liar, beware the quiet ones, stern teacher, the fettered

likes  alphabetical lists, dish washing, libraries, origami (he cannot do it whatsoever), pranks (if they’re done right), summer, students at brooklyn academy of ostentatiously pubescent pricks (at least they’re funny pricks)

dislikes  art museums, astronomy girlies (if he learns that he has pisces energy one more time he will lose it), drinking (hypocritical), level iii agents, living conditions in nyc (no relation to previous item), rollercoasters, the subway

fears  blood, cockroaches, crowds, death, disappointing his family, his family period, smooth peanut butter, snakes, spiders, vending machines

hobbies  assigning homework, billiards (surprising who?), playing chess, solving crosswords, scrabble, sudoku — only the coolest activities for him, obviously

habits  bites pencils when deep in thought, cracks back against chairs, gestures to whiteboards that simply don’t exist, writes with said pencils on imaginary paper

002.  EXTRA ORDINARY

near death experience…  

“you two! i swear on my non-denominational god that i am not forcing you to believe in, if i see you trying to axe deodorant the animals into making a little baby leopard in front of you, i’m calling your mums and telling them to pick you up this instant.”

the two snicker in response. saint isn’t sure how to respond if not with a wave of his hand, a pinch of his brow, a tour-guide-induced plug of his ear for when half his salary goes to dealing with the legal repercussions of incident number graham. this is his first field trip sitting in as a supervisor, and between the bloody boring itinerary his class has been breaking for the past few million hours and the boorish colleague he’s been paired up with he reckons that it will be his last. good riddance, he will say. good riddance, the class will say. really, the people of new york pay high enough taxes for their final destination to be more than a borough away. yet, here he stands in the densest stench he’s known since ap calculus was moved to seventh period.

this is not what he signed up for. you know what he said, when teachers asked what superpower he wanted to have? his voice would crack and his face would be lightning-split open into a barely-toothed grin and he would say he wanted to be a teacher because wow! they did so much for so little! and the teacher’s voice would crack and their face would be thundering with the truth and they would move on with their days because saint senyoyi had parents who hated him and peers who tolerated him and the guidance counsellor could deal with all that when she got back from happy hour.

he knows what he wants. something cold to drink. stupid brooklyn uniforms have gotten dark enough to hide period stains but continue displaying the effects axe deodorant has on his physiology with pure crystal. he excuses himself temporarily, tells the tour guide he’s off to the bathroom and that all the kids have do not resuscitates somewhere between their baggy pockets and knockoff gucci fanny packs, and gets to a vending machine. it’s bad, he knows, to continue to support capitalism and pollution after all the public service announcements from the lions of lying-about-admissions-policies colleges but it’s all he can afford and all that he wants and you know what superpower he did not wish for? guilt tripping. it’s a part of the faculty welcome package, but he’s never liked gifts.

no diet options. not like he cares. he hasn’t had much time to go to the gym lately. he just needs energy. a temporary fix.

the vending machine, he finds on a note far too small to be in compliance with the the occupational safety and health administration’s latest spicy issue, is temporarily unserviceable. not like he cares. he’s already annihilated the rules by leaving his class to their own devices, shiny and beepy and blackmail-filled as they are. this is just the narcotizing nightcap on the mushroom cloud. he slips a coin through the slot and waits.

and waits.

and waits.

and waits.

bloody hell. tommy j’s probably got his arse stuck between an alligator and a hard place by now, assuming sophie m’s greasy ipad hasn’t liquidated underneath the september sun. and assuming they haven’t broken up again, which is a flimsy variable by itself considering the seating arrangement’s got tommy j next to jason m and in front of jayson w and the three of them were exchanging notes yesterday like their lives depended on it. saint knocks on the glass. his parents never bothered to knock, but his sister had in the tune of an old ugandan choir song about welcoming and stars, so he does the same. welcome, cold coca-cola into his hands. welcome, please.

next he’s seeing stars. this is getting ridiculous. the machine is burping, whirring, choking, doing what saint should be doing as he details how the penguin populace has plummeted because of plastic straws and whatnot. he groans. only one thing left to do. he shakes.

and shakes.

and shakes.

and shakes.

next he’s seeing stars and blood and bone and you’re going to be a star saint because sophie m is taking a video of the entire ordeal as russell p drops his forged permission slip between sobs call 911 what’s the british version of 911 he’s english jayson same thing crapface pay attention in geology that’s geography jayson CALL 911 SCREAM CRY IS IT LUNCH IS HE DEAD SCREAM CRY I’M GETTING A REFUND CALL 911. there is glass everywhere. the ringing in his head is louder than the cries, the screams. pain is piercing yet heavy, paperwork that acts like a cactus to his poor eyes. that’s what he’s going to die as? the idiot who got crushed under a vending machine? no. he just needs to move. get out of the geysers and into a hospital that won’t charge him several billion dollars to get in.

he just needs to move.

he is not going to die before getting his one dollar bonus from the state exams.

SAINTS DO NOT DIE where did you come from father ABSOLUTE DISSOLUTION an inch towards the snake enclosure could save me SAVE YOURSELF swimming around nana’s lake house i wonder if i would taste good right now i wonder if a hot emt will try and save me SAVE YOURSELF you taught me how to swim by throwing me in the lake SAVE YOURSELF

he comes back with a massive headache, three exams to grade, and the power to move things with his mind. and a viral remix of his death, but he still hasn’t watched that in full. he’s told the chorus is incredibly vulgar.

power…  

“i wasn’t cheating!”

saint is making a scene for the first time since the tender age of five years old for bragging rights and a lukewarm beer. he hasn’t been accused of cheating since his preliminary foray into the cutthroat world of primary school mathletes, and that situation had the excuse of being started by a bespectacled potato sack no older than five years old herself. he’s kicked out for a myriad of reasons, none of which he believes are based on truth: he had fixed the game, he had fixed the bets, he had fixed his life and therefore had no business being with his friends. honestly? he thinks they just can’t look at him the same after seeing his broken body in a bed of glass, and he can’t blame them for that. he blames them for what happens, next, though.

he retreats to his apartment in shame, exile. daedalus has lost his son, he has lost his place on the top ten trivia masters. then he learns that he can fix everything in his apartment with nothing more than a mathematical buttload of attention and his mind. which, yeah, sounds boring when he puts it like that, but it’s telekinesis. objects already within arm’s reach require little to no effort to move towards him, while materials any farther than that require great concentration and a clear view to be moved. saint and telekinesis have a relationship comparable to a coparenting strategy on the verge of collapse, and none of it is particularly empowering. if he desires to take control of a stack of papers he has to focus on those papers, get an unobstructed path to those papers, stare at those papers for a solid few seconds wherein a hostile could stab him in the back. if he decides that he does not want to touch those papers, they have about a 50-50 chance of coming at him in an effortless tornado anyhow. it makes thinking inconvenient, which makes his life inconvenient. still, they’re something. he can lift roughly as much as he can with his arms, which is around the hundred-fifty pound mark with oscar-worthy thanks to a premium gym membership he passive-aggressively received from his mother some years back, although he has limits. many of them, in fact.

drawbacks / vulnerabilities…  

“shitterdoodle cookies.”

saint is on the same ground level of pathetic as his choice in curse words, for someone who has access to the school twitter account and all the bots that spam it for engagement. the heavier the object, the harder it is to move in manners that do not sound like nails on a chalkboard. the more he uses his ability, the more he is exhausted, liable to ramble about sensitive industry secrets or his feelings. neither will stop, neither will leave the conversational partner with any semblance of sanity. he has to be careful with how long he spends looking at anything, too, lest he drag some family heirloom other than his own through new york mud. also, everything he moves seems to really like his face. his pockets are nothing but bandaid collections by now.

cerberus corp…  

“and i am auditioning for the part of…”

that’s not quite right, is it? he clears his throat. a decade of teaching under his overly tight belt and there persists a lump in his throat whenever it must open. saint’s feelings on cerberus corp are complicated in the way that proving 1 + 1 = 2 is complicated. it’s a fact of life to most, easy to accept for some, but it’s also something that gets the smart alecks of the yearbook salivating and thus something he does not want to be involved in. well, strike that out and rewrite it in the past tense, his teachers would demand, for he now desires a status in american society that does not amount to school/fast food slander scene packs or graves with no return policy. his audition video was enough to get him invited for an in-person appointment, but he suspects that the possibility of him using lights and strings to get the effect of telekinesis pulled along a hundred-pound weight in comparison to his ounce of charisma.

he gets accepted, anyways, by some miracle. maybe it’s merely a seasonal investment in the marketability of a man who can soon hurl snowballs at unprecedented heights and velocities if he manages to concentrate. concentration is harder these days, however, and that descriptor of his career prospects comes with a near-overdose of pressure. he’s been with cerberus for roughly a month now, though the days blur with the hustle and bustle of extraordinarily tedious tasks assigned by the big bosses. saint is a worker bee to his core, though, and understands ranks, roles, and professional hierarchies better than breathing, so he questions nothing. as long as management of his powers is a possibility, the probability of him becoming a manger who has to do zero practical saving is above zero.

saint isn’t the best partner to have around, per se. his abilities are useful, but his personality isn’t much of an asset unless the mission involves stationary store espionage, and his desperation for a guide to everything is everlasting. nonetheless, he is nothing if not nice and accommodating to those he respects (ie everyone except agent jester. dishes can only go unwashed for so many days before his conscience is wiped clean of sanitary scruples) and aims for perfection. which isn’t the best philosophy to have around, per se, but at least he’ll do all the paperwork for you with zero prompting.

codename…  

“vender bender? i would rather die again than be called that for the rest of my life.”

it’s a joke, but saint’s never been proficient with making those. his comedy is a dependent variable, a misshapen animal lump coagulating to the back of circumstances that prove truth is stranger than fiction. proof: here, now, as his branding is being discussed in a manner far too formal for the setting they find themselves in. he has no idea how he got here, honestly. how he got with cerberus, how his card didn’t turn red at the door of the bar. he supposes it’s something like the pythagorean theorem, if the hypotenuse was meant to be the shortest side. he’s not the shortest level iii agent, thank the non-denominational god that he is not forcing anyone to believe in, but there is a nagging feeling that he does not belong, that however many lives he saves he will always be the guy stuck under the vending machine traumatising upwards of infinity children.

he’ll stick with something short and sweet, thank you very much. occam’s razor has never cut murphy’s law while shaving at three in the morning. it is time to show the party how real english billiards is played. he’s set up his own cushions at the left and right ends, shown off his custom snooker spectacles, let everyone know what a genius he is. this is his element, the art of arithmetic gambling. one shot and he’s set for the night, getting his drinks paid by everyone in a fifteen foot radius.

he takes the shot and gets his nose broken by the ball going straight to the hard, wooden edge and bouncing straight to his hard, idiotic face.

agent billiard. that’s a joke for the ages. it’s short, sweet, and a math pun. saint hates puns. cerberus loves the name. saint then decides he loves it, too, changing his social media handles accordingly.

(this is me begging for someone to have their agent suggest billiard after seeing saint smack himself in the face with a cue stick pls and thank you)

003.  EXTRA

tl;dr of backstory while i make it all nice and fancy: the middling middle child of a blackjack dealer for one of the most corrupt casinos in london and a professional sports gambler, saint has always wanted to help people. he’s just never liked people. he’s always liked math, though, and upon moving to the us of a for the sake of his older sister’s career in medicine, he made sure that, if he was to be ignored by his beloved parents, he would be ignored and rich. flash forward to getting his first job at his alma mater which has improved in much the same way that milk improves by growing curds and the lowest college admissions rate in the city, getting crushed by a vending machine, getting kicked out of his favourite bar for cheating at billiards with superpowers, and getting his cool agent nickname his cool agent roomie and his uncool first few missions; if you need a reluctant ass-kicker/incredible ass-kisser/high school math tutor, this is your guy. his mission suit is 100% an actual suit. it doesn’t look cool whatsoever tho it’s the same getup he got into for seventh grade winter formal <3 also he's a faithful reddit user. thats his biggest character flaw i think but he's addicted to r/billiards and does not intend on quitting ever

wanted connections page here!!

[sewavillamurahdilembang]

Villa Di Lembang Murah Kolam Renang Pribadi Bisa Untuk 30 Orang

Libur menyenangkan akan tercipta di villa suji istana bunga lembang , buat acara acara menarik selama menginap , nikmati berbagai fasilitas yang di sediakan.

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Nikmati kenyamanan dengan harga yang bersahabat.

Villa Suji adalah pilihan tepat untuk liburan keluarga yang tak terlupakan. Fasilitas lengkap, lokasi strategis, dan harga terjangkau menjadikan Villa Suji tempat favorit untuk berlibur bersama keluarga tercinta.

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[mio-nika]

Russian-American Rubber factory "Triangle". Part 1

I was putting off writing this post just from a how big both place and story is, even with my compression . This is the main reason why it's gonna be a two parter.

So. In your personal experience. What was a BIGGEST abandoned building you ever saw? And how big it was? Two kilometres in length? Three? Well. At the moment of opening the total area of this factory was 95 square kilometres. And in years to come it's only gotten bigger. I know that most of my followers are using different units of measure and mostly to lazy to recalculate. So just beileve me that it's A LOT.

Most of this post is written based on a book printed in the same time as factory was build. In 1860. I also took pictures from it.

Text (first picture): steam engine 900 horse power'

Text (second picture): 'boiler room'

Text (third picture): 'motor for light structures' (?)

As you can see just based on the title it was a cooperation between America and Russia. The Guy called Ferdinand von Krauskopf came to Russia and were like. You know, I was making galoshes in Germany. It was kinda cool. Do you wanna make galoshes too? And they started. Not only with galoshes, but everything that you need to be made from rubber, like cloaks, parts for machinery, balloons, medical thingies and all that. In cooperation between America and Russia factory "Triangle" was build. It wasn't actually called "Triangle" in the first years, but we will be using this name just to make things easier. It's GONNA BE called triangle in the future.

Text: 'Galoshes warehouse'. This is some liminal shit.

The machines, chemical materials and first workers was imported and invited from a big number of other countries: Germany, England, America.

Text: 'Technical department'. I'm bringing your attention to the rails on the floor. A easy way to transport heavy objects.

And everything was very cool actually! I'm not gonna call this place work heaven (in case something were very bad), but it was made as a single unit where everything people needed were kinda close.

Text: 'Nursery'

For workers and their families were build: nursery, school, sanatorium, library with a reading room, place to play biliard and bowling, sleep quarters. Inside the main building were placed cafeteria.

Text: 'Worker's cafeteria'. It's really hard to see, but in the centre of the floor is a moving circle platform to change direction of the rails. Neat.

Additionally. In case of death of one of the workers were created separate budget to support their family. And I'm using "their" because the number of women and men were almost 50/50 actually leaning towards women.

Text: 'colony for the rest of workers' I used the term "sanatorium"

On the last page of this book that I used someone wrote "very interesting book" with pencil and I agree.

To be continued in part 2.

[gaydeadwizardsfromthe70]

Remus Lupin playing biliard:

Wonder why the marauders are always offering him to play with them even though they always lose...