#cutting carriages
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Choosing The Right Beveling Machine: A Comprehensive Guide
In the world of metal fabrication and welding, precision and efficiency are paramount. This comprehensive guide aims to walk you through the key considerations when choosing a beveling machine, ensuring that you make an informed decision tailored to your specific needs. Visit us - https://steelmaxtools.blogspot.com/2024/02/choosing-the-right-beveling-machine-a-comprehensive-guide.html
#annular cutters#Weld Automation#Feeder Welding#cutting carriages#beveling machines#Drilling Machine#hydraulic punches#magnetic drills
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made a post a while back on how javert's suicide is often poorly portrayed in film adaptations to the point of accidental comedy, and how the 1978 movie in particular is the most unhinged example. audio warning for a loud trumpet blast, don't turn up your volume
#len's videos#inspector javert#javert#les mis#les miserables#les misérables#javert les mis#les mis 1978#les miserables 1978#les misérables 1978#the trumpet blast as he does a flip... the way it just cuts to a cheery carriage ride... girl what were they ON in 1978 😭#it's so tactless that it veers into absurdism for one of the most serious parts of the story#girl you KNOW your scene is bad when the dogshit bbc version is miles better!#at least i didn't laugh during that scene! that scene was the only bit of genuine emotion i felt besides rage for that whole miniseries!#i have yet to finish '78 LM and i'm sure it has it's redeeming qualities that i don't wanna dunk on! it's just this scene is utterly whack!
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Imagine being the human on chapter 11.
You're a life guard. It's lunch, and no one is drowning, so you have your sandwich. Suddenly a cat leaps up and takes it, and brings you towards a tourists car.
Inside is a younger cat desperately trying to escape. You let it out. The cat who took your sandwich meows at you.
You don't get your sandwich back.
It's a lovely day in England, and Ivypool is a horrible cat.
#bones reads iph#One of the book's problems is that it has waaaaay too many quicktime events#but if they'd cut out the Horse Carriage and the Apple Picker then this one's cute and interesting enough to stay#Ivypool's Heart Spoilers
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Y’all, for the past MONTH, we’ve been hearing this^^ “Penelope” that the trailer made us think was in the fantasy scene, not realizing that in the actual show, that “Penelope” always belonged here:
We were hearing Carriage Colin this whole time.
#i’ll never forgive the team that cut the trailer#they trolled us#carriage colin#polin#bridgerton#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton spoilers#carriage
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Sebnitz BABY CARRIAGE w Wax Baby, Dresden Trims, German Wire, Glass beads, ebay
indianblue*2
#christmas ornament#ornament#dresden#carriage#die cut#sebnitz#car#bird#windmill#swing#clock#butterfly#insect#basket#house#tinsel#bow#baby
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"oughh star wars is best" "star trek is top tier sci fi" "doctor who has a legacy" blah blah blah who gives a shittt. momma ward.
#farscape#crichton#i cut out the dk bit but let it be known that dk in this scene is funniest bitch alive.#some FRIEND YOU ARE MAN! I OPENED MY VEEEEIIIIINS!!!!!#ITS SO FUNNY. SORRY ! SORRY FOR ENJOYING THE CAMP SUICIDE!#i wish he wasnt screaming over the shot of the orderlies sitting john in the carriage. ill gif it but i wish i cohld preserve the music#and theres a Boi-oi-oing! when they sit him in the buggy. FUNNY
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i dont know if yall knew this but i love starlight express
#my art#fanart#starlight express#stex#buffy the buffet car#pearl the observation car#pearl the first class carriage#dinah the dining car#ashley the smoking car#hey ladiessss get funky (sick cowbell solo)#this is a redraw ive just had bad luck with putting images under cuts#it tends to hide my posts in the tags#anyways. also included the flats. for funsies#and also so u can see some of the details better#like the menu tucked in dinahs belt!!!#i was looking at the og concept art and that was there and i think its SO cute#i should draw buffy and ashley more often. i love them so much#anyways. this took me like 4 hours please enjoy it
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Come to Heel, Chapter 2
[Read on AO3]
It’s hair for which his brother’s beta is best known— not the richer auburn of Tanbarun’s nobility, nor the carrot-like hues familiar to more far flung nations, but a brilliant apple red; its bright sheen inviting enough to make even the most civil mouth water. Or at least it had been when she flitted through Wistal’s gardens, the second prince’s scent clinging to her as strongly as koko grass and sage; a curiosity to the court, uncertain whether she would emerge as a pawn in their games or a player.
Of late, however, the reports whispered in his ears speak more of her intelligence and cunning, of her determination and grit. A beta that would make a fine alpha for any that might try their hand at taming her. A waste of a sure talent, a certain lord and commander had written from behind his well-watched walls, with neither status nor inclination to bolster her. A judgment and offer both, neither of which Izana had been inclined to take.
But what truly set her apart from her peers— nay, what places her above even the most cultured of his courtiers, the loveliest of his court flowers— is the heady scent of her agitation. Beta she may be, but even an alpha would be hard-pressed to put forth a more enticing essence, both sweet and sour as it bursts in his mouth like the season’s ripest plum. Which is what she is fast coming to resemble the longer she perches in his salon, the long bones in her hands standing out as stark as a skirt’s pleats.
“I think,” she says, voice trembling with the effort of measuring each word. “That the amount of your attention will hardly overcome your instinct to disregard any advice you don’t wish to heed, no matter how reasoned.”
Oh, his brother’s beta might compose her complaint as prettily as she likes, but he long ago learned how to sniff out the kernel of truth from even the finest flattery. “Why, Mistress Shirayuki,” he hums, crossing one leg languidly over the other. “Are you calling your king reckless?”
Her mouth pulls perilously thin. He’s half-tempted to try to slip another strip of meat between them, if only to see if she might bite. “I’m saying that you think you’re smarter than everyone else, and you act like it. It’s a liability.”
Well now, that’s a bit bolder than he’s heard in some time. At least from lips other than his aide’s. “My my, do be careful, mistress. It almost sounds as if you think yourself more clever.”
His brother’s beta is conspicuously silent, her only answer an even deeper furrow of that stormy brow.
“Doesn’t this cause more than a few issues with your security?” Her shadow smirks as he tacks on a much belated and hardly heartfelt, “Your Majesty.”
Still, Izana allows himself to entertain the question. “Perhaps, if I were to attend Mistress Shirayuki in my official capacity.” He allows his lips to curl, drawing that even sweeter suspicion of out her. “But I doubt that there would be much interest harming one of the Master Herbalist’s esteemed colleagues.”
“Esteemed…? No.” Alarm sours her scent, fast enough he nearly coughs, eager to expel the flavor. “No, no, you can’t possibly mean…?”
One brow arches, a question rather than incredulity. “Why not? Master Lowen has already been established as one of your acquaintances. It would be a pity to let such a convenient cover go to waste.”
“It’s impossible!” By the blush blooming across those freckled cheeks— and the sultry scent of her chagrin— the words may have burst from her unbidden, but the square of her shoulders practically shouts that she stands by the sentiment. “You can’t just…pretend to know about herbalism. It’s taken me almost four years to learn just this much, and I’m nowhere near as good as—”
“I’m not asking to pass as one of your Lilias scholars,” he drawls, enjoying the spike of her scent as she struggles not to leap from her chair. “Just a competent enough pharmacist to convince the ones in Hyatess. I hardly think a backwater like that would expect anything more than decent.”
Her mouth purses, peeved now that the honor of her irreproachable profession has been impugned. Even now a retort foments behind that unassuming face, her agitation peeling back the thin skin of civility between them, showing the animal beneath hair by innumerable hair—
And yet, she’s saved from it, her shadow once again insinuating himself where he ought not. “It’s nice that you’ve got this little show all worked out, Your Majesty, but that doesn’t change that it’s you. His Grace isn’t going to be happy if you traipse off without an entourage. Or at least a bodyguard.”
His brother must be more fool than he gave him credit for if he still believes this irreverent mutt to be an omega. The pest doesn’t even lower his gaze when he speaks, those strange eyes fixed on him even as he helps himself to another shred of meat.
“It is not His Grace’s place to tender permission.” Izana lets his tone implying her knight might remember his own. “Though, for what it is worth, I do not mean to travel unprotected either.”
“Oh?” That grin slices like a knife, teeth peering through the gash. “So, what? Are you going to pass Sir Zakura off as a coachman? An apprentice? No wait, don’t tell me— the dog?”
“Of course not.” Though the last is tempting, if just to see if that man could bend his knees if the occasion called for it. “I assumed you would be coming with us, Sir Obi. After all”—he bares his own teeth this time, enjoying the way that shadow shrinks— “it would be odd for our dear master herbalist to travel without her paramour, would it not?”
To say the scent of the room becomes complex would be an understatement; it is a pity that his brother could not be here with a better nose to suss it out. It might save them all a bit of time if he could.
“We leave in two days.” Izana unfurls upright, pacing back behind the sofa, making sure both its occupants feel every inch. “Sir Zakura will give you further details as they are made.”
“But—?”
His hand snaps out— not a blow, but a firm press of his hand to her nape; a reminder. Trust his brother’s beta to take a royal request as a starting bid rather than a command. “Make your preparations accordingly.”
To his dismay, the mutt laughs.
“Beck and call, huh?” The man practically shivers with delight. “Looks like it might take a little more than that for some people to come to heel.”
*
As simple as the decision to don his pharmacist disguise had been, becoming Lowen comes with several logistical issues. Touka Bergatt may have been expelled from Clarines’ borders, but Izana is hardly fool enough to believe that he does not have his own spies in the capital, close enough to have a good idea of his comings and goings. The treasury might pay a hefty stipend to each of the palace’s staff— compensation commensurate with competence and loyalty— but there are always costs even a king cannot anticipate, human foibles that cannot simply be solved with an application of funds.
Master Lowen might walk freely in the North, certain that he would only be recognized as a companion of the much-admired Mistress Shirayuki, but here in his own palace, there are few and far between who would not wonder why His Majesty had dressed himself as a humble merchant's son. A half day’s ride would quell that particular problem, but, well— if personal experience had taught him that the disappearance of a prince between one post town and the next would cause a panic, he could only imagine the newfound degrees of hysteria that would be discovered should a king do the same. And to make matters worse, there was the conundrum of Mistress Shirayuki: she could not be seen departing Wistal in his company, but she must arrive in Hyatess with Master Lowen.
It only made sense to spread the news that His Majesty meant to decamp to one of the royal country homes— the one further south, out on some far flung promontory near Yuris. It was hardly his favorite of their properties— he hadn’t been there since he was little more than a boy himself, bored to tears looking at the ocean but never being able to touch— but it made for a secluded getaway to woo his would-be queen, and the domestics were downright giddy in their preparation. By the time he mounted the carriage steps behind his beloved, their excitement was at a fevered pitch, a few of them even bidding him good luck before the door swept shut behind him.
“Good luck,” Shidnote huffs once they’re past the palace proper, legs sprawling across the carriage’s cab. “Now what’s that for? Do your loyal followers believe that you might have trouble locating your cock, Your Majesty?”
Izana restrains the urge to grimace. Perhaps his bandit is getting a little too comfortable with his royal company. “Sir, I’ll beg you to remember that there is a lady—”
Of good breeding, he means to say. That he nearly does, until the aforementioned lady snorts. To her credit, she does raise a hand— a demure attempt at a muffle— but it’s no good. Her shoulders still shake, the scent of snow rising sharply in the stuffy cabin, vivid enough he can taste ozone on his tongue.
He casts her a withering glance. A pity she is much immune. “Well, go on then, get it out.”
Her restraint doesn’t so much disappear as dissolve, girlish giggles just the same as they had been when Mother first introduced them: Arleon’s promising daughter and the prince without a proper coat.
“I’m sorry,” she manages, only after Shidnote turns his grin to the window. “It’s only that I had been thinking something similar…”
“Worse, no doubt,” Shidnote adds, too amused. “Knowing that brother of yours.”
*
City cedes to forest, and cobbled roads to well-packed earth. There’s no such thing as a quiet ride when it comes to traveling with Shidnote, and once Haki produces a set of cards and proposes a game the guards taught her— all the rage in the North, she promises, as if his aide needs an inducement to misbehave— all hope of it is scuttled. Whatever variation of match-three, run-four she’s brought them this time involves slapping, which his aide takes to with an enthusiasm that borders on aggressive.
“Why, if we were not such close companions, sir, I would be tempted to think you strike me on purpose,” Izana observes, shaking out his hand.
“Me, Your Majesty?” Shidnote hums, hand pressed earnestly to his coat, right where a heart would be if he had one. “But I would lay down my life for yours. Take an arrow, right through my belly. Suffer any torture to—”
He holds up a quelling hand. “Enough. Your dedication honors me, as always. But I cannot help but observe that you only seem to have such…unfortunate accidents when it is my hand reaching for the pot, and not the lady’s.”
His eyes widen— an act of innocence, belied by the twitch of his mouth. “Why, Majesty, are you saying that I should strike a lady? Even one so gracious and lovely as your—”
“I’m saying, that by my count, you should have had no interest in that pot,” Izana deadpans, “and yet, somehow, I am still the one wounded.”
“Count?” Shidnote’s brows raise to a thunderous degree, and ah, that had been a mistake. A slip of the tongue. Not one that would be soon forgotten. “This is why you get hit, Majesty, because you are a dirty cheater—”
“—it is hardly occult to possess the ability to count to seventy-two—”
“—has the carriage stopped?” Haki’s much-vaunted profile turns toward the plains on the other side of the glass, the scent of snowfall thick in the air. “Izana—?”
Shidnote holds out a hand, urging her back against the bench as he puts head and shoulders between her and the door. “Sit back, my lady, I’ll handle this.”
His aide might be a beta by inclination, but he knows how to stink up a place like an alpha— only the barest undercurrent of balsam and spice breaks through the alarmed musk filling the carriage, so strong his gorge rises, acid washing across his tongue. Only experience keeps the bile in his stomach; after all, a prince could not lose the contents of his stomach on a friendly visit to a vassal, no matter how uncivil the lord.
With a weary glare, Izana rises off his seat, reaching up to knock on the panel between carriage and driver’s box. “May I inquire as to the nature of our delay?”
“Ah, pardon, Your Majesty!” the driver huffs back, distracted. “Seems there’s a messenger for His Lordship. From the palace.”
Shidnote’s gaze meets his, brows hiked to his hairline, stretching the chasm cut across his nose. Though his aide might command a good number of eyes across the kingdom, there were few who would have news urgent enough— or near enough— to use one of the official messengers.
But Izana can think of one. His mouth curves, satisfaction sinking him deep into the bench’s cushions. My my, it seems his brother’s little beta might make this interminable trip interesting.
“Well, let him in.” he drawls, anticipation a steady thrum beneath his skin. “Let us hear what our master pharmacist has gotten up to.”
*
“Now, you know I’m not one to criticize, Majesty…”
A lie if Izana has ever heard it; Shidnote might not scold the way Haruka would, but he had his own way of letting his opinions be known. Mainly through loosing the sharp edge of that tongue of his. “But you’re going to start, I assume?”
Shidnote wipes the sweat from his brow, more weary than waggish. “I’m confused, is all. You’re the king, aren’t you?”
Ah, now this will be an interesting tack, to be sure. “I am.”
The sharp scent of clove spikes, enough that even a few paces away, Izana can perceive it. “And so everyone’s supposed to wait on your pleasure. That’s the way it works.”
“It is.” Mostly. Though he certainly knows better to test that particular privilege with Mother.
“Then why were we the ones who raced across the damned country just to squat in some backwater and wait?” Shidnote crosses his arms over his chest, casual lean belied by the rigid line of his shoulders. “I know those two deciding to skip town a day early wasn’t part of the plan, but all that should mean is that they’ve got to cool their heels longer. Not that the king of Clarines cuts his romantic getaway short to beat them to the inn.”
“As far as anyone else is concerned, the romantic getaway has not been interrupted in the slightest.” Though he would have to send his wife-to-be a very lavish gift for her gracious acceptance in the sudden change of plans. “It is not as if the king and his future consort would mark the departure of two messengers. Especially when one will return in such short order.”
“That’s not the point.” Shidnote sighs, scrubbing a hand over his scar. “The point is that you heard they’d get to the rendezvous ahead of you, and you tore out of there like you’d been told the place was on fire. You want to share why? Because I have to admit, Your Majesty, I don’t see it.”
And he wouldn’t; for as much as Shidnote had played alpha for his band of merry bandits, keeping them in line with the skill of his sword and the strength of his scent, it’s not his natural inclination. His lot might have marked their territory, the boundaries of that little outlaw town stinking of his musk to deter other alphas from thinking them easy pickings, but he wouldn’t think of a space like this— an inn’s room, large enough to hold a bedchamber and parlor, meant for well-off but transient occupants— as a place to declare dominance over all those who entered.
But that shadow would. Pity Shidnote didn’t have the nose agree.
Izana’s mouth quirks, wry. “Because it is important to start every battle with the high ground.”
The scent of sweet apples floods his mouth, the bright taste of honey chasing its heels, and his pulse quickens, anticipation making her flavor all the sweeter. It’s faint— faint enough that she must be at the stairs, idling as her knight carried their bags up behind her. There’s no scent to mark him, masked and suppressed as he is, but the sing-song of their conversation bounces down the hall, heralding his presence clearer than any footman. Giddy, that’s what it is; her scent and his voice, both barely contained.
At least, until boot heels scuff right outside the door. The shadow hesitates; Izana may not be able to catch his scent, but that man catches his, his silence ringing as loud as any alarm. But it’s not one his brother’s beta hears, not when she’s too busy fumbling with the door, trying to fit the key properly in the lock.
“There,” she sighs, key finally sliding home. “Let’s get our things inside, and then maybe we can take a look around before Izana—”
“—Miss!” her shadow yelps as the door swings open. “Maybe you should let me—?”
It’s too late, her boots have already crossed the threshold, that banner of red unfurling as her hood falls back, a sight as tempting as her scent. It’s followed by her eyes, flitting over the parlor as a butterfly might a garden, never alighting for much more than a moment as she takes in the whole. “Oh, I didn’t think it would be so nice! I wonder…”
Her flight stutters as it lands on Shidnote, still as a statue against the far wall, before it drops, searching every surface until she finds—
“Oh, no.” A sour spike of dismay floods his nose, her head shaking in slow counterpoint. “No, no. Absolutely not!”
He lifts his brows, letting a languid leer curl his lips. “What is the matter, Mistress? Surely you can’t take exception to your esteemed colleague sharing accommodations?”
“No, that’s not— it’s not the accommodations,” she blurts out, flushed and fragrant. “It’s…it’s…”
Izana adjusts the silver-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose. “It’s…?”
“Well.” Her shadow coughs, covering a smile. “The fur coat’s a bit much.”
#izanayuki#akagami no shirayukihime#snow white with the red hair#1000 followers#my fic#abo au#come to heel#ans#i always think i'm going to get farther in these chapters#but Izana POVs really like to luxuriate in the political intrigue and lore building#literally had to cut a whole scene from the carriage being like#AIN'T NO ONE GOT TIME FOR THAT
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sorry if I wasn’t clear, but we did have stage directors and such, but we didn’t have that many people in crew as a whole because the new director is a bitch (literally the only word I could possible use to describe her.) Anyways, the guy Im talking about is basically just the opposite of what I read. His first reaction after the show was to run off the stage and up to the light booth just to hug me, pick me up and spin me around a bunch. LIKE????? I THINK ABOUT THAT DAILY Also he’s helping me a bunch because there’s this one creepy guy who keeps flirting with me and being all touchy, but school won’t do anything about him. But he agreed to walk me to all my classes, even though he doesn’t have most of his classes even near mine and he’s defending me from the creep. But also idk in general.
-🌺
wtf the duality of tech lives: yours vs mine GOOD FOR YOU IM VERY HAPPY FOR YOU
But technical directors that dont know what they're doing SUCKKKKK
#💜.answers#🌺.anon!!!#back when i was a senior i had a tech teacher and he fucking sucked#hang on let me get on my computer for this#i lied im gonna write here bc i took forever to answer#dude so for this carriage we had to make it was so unstable that he said only 120 pounds was allowed on the carriage#AND THE LEAD HAD TO RIDE IN IT ACROSS THE STAGE. IT WAS SCARY#he put a screw like. perpendicular to where it was actually supposed to go. so the screw was tightened literally nowhere.#the stairs were uneven as all hell and they were SCARY to walk on#for the trees we needed in the forest scene ??? they were supposed to fly out. guess what he did. yep. he drilled them to the floor#so during the ballroom scene THERE WERE TREES RIGHT THERE. JUST. THERE.#once my mentor bought gels for the lights. this guy cut up the gels to make 'stained glass'#THEY WERE FOR OUR LIGHTS.
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How To Safely Operate Metal Cutting Saws: Tips & Tricks
Metal cutting saws are powerful tools designed to precisely cut through various types of metal. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore essential tips and tricks to help you safely operate metal cutting saws, ensuring optimal results while minimizing the risk of accidents. Visit us - https://www.behance.net/gallery/190778753/How-To-Safely-Operate-Metal-Cutting-Saws-Tips-Tricks
#annular cutters#Weld Automation#Feeder Welding#cutting carriages#beveling machines#Drilling Machine#hydraulic punches#magnetic drills
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Is anyone here autistic about mid 1800s carriages and/or women’s fashion? Or knows someone who might be? Or even if it isn’t quite the mid 1800s, even just sometime around there? Because I know very little about it but I have a character in a (non-whump) novel who is extremely autistic about it and I am doing lots of research but I just feel like it’d help to have someone who already has that as a special interest.
#not whump#my autism over Minecraft and Joseph from the Bible and linguistics unfortunately won’t cut it#also this character is actually from the mid 1800s so from his perspective he’s just autistic over modern carriages and women’s fashion#should I tag this as autism? it’d get it out there more#eh it feels wrong#creative writing#writing process#autistic writer
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in thinking about the honeymoon epilogue for poison lord and clown lady I’ve realized that I’ve only ever had or planned for these two to do it outside of a bed
Will they ever make it to a bed? Impossible to know
#I cut three smut scenes from the poison lord and literally none of them were in a bed#it was a carriage#a closet#and outside#I just believe these two would never if ever make it to a bed#you know that#I know that#we all know that#harley quinn#poison ivy#harlivy#writing#harleen quinzel#pamela isley#harley x ivy
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TRIANGLE SHRIMP ALERT !!!!
#shrimp#shrimp tank#aquariums#aquarium#inverts#pets#neocaridina#orange bee shrimp#shrimps is bugs#crustaceans#if a shrimp wore a thong...#triangle shrimp#finally a shrimp i can name again this tank has so many#once my named shrimp died off a while back there were too many babies to tell apart#well. now i see a unique one. good. im gonna look for her every time#oh i was gonna say 'Triangle' bc thats kinda cut but...#had to check the spelling lmao#what if i name her Isosceles?#anyway im so glad i got a random aberrant coloured orange bee (she was Miss Yellow) bc now all my shrimp have mixed..#..colouration bc Miss Yellow was like an irl shiny or something she had like the gold dust thing goin on too so now i have ones with..#..like friggen stripes and speckles and ones that are reddish orange and ones that are yellow orange#Miss Yellow was an Orange shrimp but like... so yellow in comparison with what she 'should' have been when i bought her#if i put a yellow shrimp in there youd be able to tell these are all Orange but next to each other theyre so variable#my og female shrimp were Miss Yellow. Miss Carriage. and White-Nose. lol i couldnt tell the males apart#MC and WN were in lesbians and didnt wanna breed (hence MCs name lol) so most of the ones i have now came from Miss Yellow#so hopefully the aberrant colour genes keep going without reverting to wild bc the babies are still so vibrant#anyway lol#Cori.exe#Image.exe
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ACAU Miles makes an unfunny / offensive joke so but since Peter is the only one around who understands it just looks like Miles said something and Peter randomly pinch-twisted his cheek or neck in the middle of their conversation. it also looks like that when it’s Peter telling the joke, just a bit funnier bc they see it as the Weird Kid being weird and a kid. Normally Peter doesn’t care when Miles jokes around like that bc he’s lost the part of him that does, but as the years go on he’s realizing that there are some things that can easily be fixed/guided so a kid doesn’t just become a super unbearable adult
#miles: ugh here comes Ms. Carriage / peter wanting to slap the shit out of him but knowing matt would kill him: (i’m ignoring you)#peter: how about you go make some new and interesting friends again / cut to miles straight up necking him#not tagging#actual cryptid au
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ANTIQUE GERMAN SPUN COTTON SANTA CANDY CONTAINER FATHER CHRISTMAS ORNAMENT ebay Thee Holiday Hoarder
#ornament#christmas ornament#DIE CUT#santa#CANDy CONTAINER#TREE TOPPER#CONE#elephant#horse#carriage#alligator#an#snowman#anthromorphic#antropomorphic#cat#mouse#jester#harlequin#cotton#black doll#angel
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https://at.tumblr.com/alicoles/which-one-of-henry-viiis-wives-is-alicent/k8sabcwh80z0 👀I trust now to you and your history expertise
Ah, the Tudors, literally my first ever foray into getting weirdly obsessed with periods of history, this is a merger of two very intense interests lol.
Also I personally voted for Jane Seymour, even tho an argument could be made for Katherine Parr if I wanted to, because there definitely are similarities in story and in temperament (as fas as we can guess, considering we don't know that much about Jane which is why stannes who get so weird about her fucking INFURIATE me), and also because there's a recap blog that's been watching The Tudors that described Annabelle Wallis's Jane as essentially a woman married to an abusive man who is working really hard to toe the line and make sure that she never got on his bad side or said the wrong thing and just always kept her cool and her head, and that kind of description is giving me big Alicent energy.
#personal#answered#anonymous#the anons who send me stuff about history: you guys are very special#you're allowing me to be at my peak nerd#'oh so you think viserys is ABUSIVE??' no but i think marriage to him#and the balancing act that involved with court and rhaenyra and all the factions involved wasn't easy#especially after driftmark when he tried to get her kids to implicate her in the strong bastards thing#literally told everyone and their mother he didn't give a shit if any of her family were injured maimed or killed#and also had his whole 'anyone who says two plus two equals four gets their tongues cut out' bit#like you know how in the carriage alicent immediately tries to smooth things over with viserys and swallow her real feelings#like.........yeah........#also i love jane and she deserves better from a LOT of people cuz the way most tudor fans talk about her is disgusting#fortunately i am a marian™ and as such i don't care for anne and therefore can be normal about jane#who also happened to be perfect#(all of this is said in jest obvi)
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