#I am sure there are typos

[missanthropicprinciple]

I wrote some mild filth. Enjoy.

[always-coffee]

Small Joys

I believe in small joys.

I talk about this often, but it bears repeating.

The first sip of hot coffee on a quiet morning. Watching a bunny hop across the lawn with its impossibly cute tail. Having a good conversation with a friend. Making the perfect Alfredo sauce. The actual adoration on my cat’s face when he looks at me. (How did I get so lucky to adopt such a love bug?!) Sunsets and sunrises. The way the stars fill the sky on a perfectly clear night. How bright the moon can be when its peeking through tree branches.

Connection. Laughter. Getting a message, randomly, from someone I adore. Finding the perfect word when I’ve been hunting for it. The smell of books. The way the air smells just before a good rain.

…I could go on. But this is just a reminder that small joys add up. And they’re really everywhere, if you look. And when times are difficult, or even just a little iffy, it can make a world of difference if you look for them.

[harbours-lighthouse]

this might be very self indulgent, but what about Jason with a reader who has terrible period cramps. like so bad they pass out from the pain. they just go to the toilet and suddenly it gets so bad they tumble to the floor, moaning in pain until their body just gives out. (yes this is me, no i am not okay)

he won't let me break apart (jason todd x f!reader)

author's note — hi, love :) thank you for sending in your request. i really hope your cramps have eased since you sent this in; mine can get quite brutal too so you're definietly not alone in the experience. make sure to drink lots of water and get some rest, and a hot water-bottle or shower does wonders. i hope i did this justice, and that you enjoy. hopefully jaybird brings you some comfort <3

content warning — semi-graphic description of period cramps; mentioning of painkillers (panadol is the same as tylenol); general bodily discomfort.

est. word count — 2.5k

You can’t breathe, and it’s three in the morning. Seated on the edge of your bed, you hug your stomach tightly. The pain is bright and bursting, stabbing through your abdomen with a ferocity that leaves you sucking in sharp breaths. But your lungs feel clenched, as if your body is inwardly bracing for each punch of pain. 

Period cramps aren’t uncommon to you, but this feels different. This feels like someone is thrusting a knife straight through your gut over and over, viciously. 

The thought of getting Panadol briefly strikes you, and you slowly stand on unsteady legs. The gritty wool of the carpet feels rough against your feet, and you shuffle through the inky darkness of your room. 

“Oh, geez…” your hand smacks against the doorframe to your bedroom, your body halfway out into the hallway. The black and white tiles are cold, gleaming under pale light from the singular window at the end of the hallway. 

Sucking in a shattered breath, you squeeze your eyes shut and let the sharpness of the pain fade back into a steady, pulsing ache. You don’t bother turning on the hallway light, knowing that the dull pain in your temple will erupt into a piercing headache. 

Reaching the small, dim bathroom feels like an eternity, your feet sluggish and your eyes bleary. The thought of a warm shower flickers in your mind, and you feel as if your skin is begging for heat, for something to soothe the agony. 

Dropping to your knees in front of the square cabinet beneath the sink, you pull the doors open and hear the hinges squeak in protest. Blinking, you try to make out the shape of the box of Panadol, and just as you do and reach out for it, your abdomen twists violently. 

Gasping, your hand drops to slap against the tiles, and you let out an audible whine, the sound broken inside the cramped bathroom. If it weren’t for the long, rectangular window above the shower, you would have thought the sound made the shower curtains quiver, and not the wisp of wind drifting through a crack in the glass. 

Your breathing feels rushed, erratic as you try to focus on the chill of the floor beneath your palm, the biting edge of the grout lines against your knees. But the ebbing of pain doesn’t come, and instead, a wave of nausea floods over you. 

Scrambling, your hands fly towards the rim of the toilet, fingers shaking as you curl over the porcelain. Bile bubbles in the back of your throat, your stomach churns. Though you’re ready to double over and vomit what little you were able to eat before bed, nothing comes. Frustration burns inside you. 

Tears spring to your eyes, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re angry or because of the pain—perhaps both. Gritting your teeth, it feels as if the pain is compressing down on you, enveloping you in a tight grip that you can’t escape from. You’re so focused on the sting in your throat and the throb in your gut that you don’t hear the window in your living room sliding open, nor the soft thud of boots hitting the bare floors. 

Everything is too hot and too cold at the same time. Your stomach unclenches for a brief, respiteful moment, and you suck in a rattling breath. The corners of your eyes are blurred by warm tears.

“Sweetheart?” 

You shriek, your body jerking and nearly slamming into the side of the bathtub. The rapid movement of your body and the painful flutter of your heart sends your abdomen spasming with hot pain. Your chin dips and your teeth ache, and a croaked whimper escapes past your cracked lips. 

“J-Jason?” 

Heat vibrates from Jason’s body as he crouches beside you in a swift flash of movement, and large, warm hands reach for you before flinching back, unsure if he should touch you. 

“(Name)? What’s wrong?” Jason’s voice is hushed, but there’s a sharp edge to it. Worry bounces inside his chest, his fingers feel suddenly cold. He’s never seen you like this—bent and curled inward like a dying animal, eyes misty as they lift upward and find him. 

You want to feel humiliated, disgusted by the state you’re in and the fact that Jason is seeing you like this—but you can’t. The sight of his blue eyes dark with confusion and concern sends relief surging through you. You hadn’t realised how much you were craving him. How much you needed him. 

“Jay…” the word is choked around another spasm of pain, and your hands shake as you reach for him. Jason doesn’t stop himself this time, and his hands bring you to him. 

“Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong, please—” 

“Cramps,” you gasp out into his shoulder, fingers gripping tightly onto the creases of his leather jacket. He smells like gunpowder and ash, dried blood and soap—your soap. Jason’s eyes flutter closed as he breathes a sigh of relief against your scalp; he hates that you’re hurting, he can’t bear the sight of you in pain, but at least it’s something natural, and not something someone had done to you, or something you had done to yourself.

He can feel you shaking in his hold, and he splays his hand against your back. He can feel the knobs of your spine as he rubs up and down, and even through the thin fabric of your sleep-shirt, he can feel how cold you are.

“You should have called me,” he says quietly, his voice rumbling inside the bathroom. He tightens his hold on you, caging you inside his warmth.

The thought had occurred to you before, to call his burner phone and ask him to come over, but you had buried that thought away just as quickly as it had come. You were not going to tear Jason away from his nightly duty, the work he does out on Gotham’s dirtiest streets. This city needs him, and you’ve handled period cramps like this before.

“Jason,” you push your face into his neck, ignoring his comment, “can you—I’m sorry—can you bring me Panadol?”

Jason glances at the open cabinet, and then the scratched lightswitch on the wall next to the door. For a moment, he thinks to switch on the light in order to find the painkillers, but your strained breathing dashes that thought away. 

Shifting with one arm still curled around you, he stretches his other arm out and fumbles around for the box of Panadol inside the cabinet. It’s hard to find it, the bathroom still dark, but the pale light from the window is enough for him to make out the shape of the box. 

He brings his arm back, snaking it around you, and his hands work at the small of your back, fingers pulling out a foil sheet and pushing two pills out into his gloved palm. 

You bite back another whine as a burst of pain skewers through you, shoulders hunching forward. The urge to cry grows stronger, and you want to bury yourself into Jason, drown in his warmth. 

A finger lightly taps close to your ear, which isn’t the nicest feeling as a headache threatens to cross the line of bearable to down-right splitting. Lifting your head away from the shelter of his neck, you take the gleaming white pills laid out on display in Jason’s palm. Your fingertips graze the thick, tightly-woven fabric of his gloves, and even that radiates heat.

Bracing yourself, you tip your head back and down the pills raw, feeling Jason’s gaze resting heavily on the dark shadows of your face. You mutter a small, ‘thank you’, your voice cutting out and dropping to a whisper. 

Jason’s fingers deftly reach upwards, and brush away the strands of hair that have fallen across your face. 

“Baby,” he murmurs, the gruffness of his voice subdued and gentle, “what else do you need?” 

Jason doesn’t know how to handle this—he’s never been forced into this situation before. But you’re you, and he knows he’ll do anything, you just need to point him in the right direction. 

Inhaling sharply, you feel the dregs of nausea begin to ease away, like dirt disappearing down a drain. Jason’s hands are heavy, warm. The ache in your abdomen throbs, and you want to simply fall into Jason and close your eyes. You want to wake up again when the pain is gone. 

“Just hold me,” you whisper, and Jason’s heart splits open. The desperation in your voice is subtle, but intense. You sound like you’re battling demons and not just agonising cramps. 

The muscles beneath Jason’s jacket flex as he scoops you up, and the jostling of your body has you whimpering softly, though you try to bite back the sound. 

“M’sorry, sweetheart—sorry,” Jason soothes beneath his breath, his large frame moving out of the doorway and down the hall. It’s still dark, not even dawn has reached its pale fingers into the sky yet. You hold onto Jason tighter, not bothering to keep track of where he’s taking you. 

Your body is softly dropped onto the cream cushions of your couch, and for a moment, you feel Jason pull away from you. Your hands shoot out against your will, fingers grasping for purchase on his jacket as your stomach churns. 

“Jason—”

“It’s okay,” Jason reassures, his body pausing in movement. His fingers move to wrap around your wrist, and he can feel your pulse beneath his thumb. It’s erratic, like the violent beating of a bird’s wings. 

“I’m just getting a blanket, okay?” 

You stare at Jason’s face, gaze flickering across his strong features—but it’s his eyes you’re truly studying in the pale light that barely filters into your living room.

“I’ll be back,” he whispers softly, his free hand reaching to the back of your head and pulling you forward lightly. He presses his lips firmly to your forehead, though it’s achingly soft at the same time. You visibly relax, and you let Jason’s touch slip away from you. 

You shift to lay comfortably on the couch, wincing as your abdomen clenches. You can hear Jason’s footsteps along the floorboards, the thud of his boots, and the sound of a cupboard door groaning open. Most of the hinges in your apartment are old, grimey and loud. 

When Jason returns, there’s a bundle of wool in his hands, and you recognise it as the blanket you bought while you were both out shopping in Gotham’s Upper Districts. The colour looks nearly black in the darkness, but you know that it’s a rich green, reminiscent of moss. 

Jason fans the blanket across you, and you thank him quietly. The fabric isn’t warm yet, but it feels soft against your chilled skin.

“Jay?” you crane your neck upward, and Jason’s already moving before you ask him to. Gently nudging you further against the back of the couch, Jason maneuvers himself to slot against you. He’s taken off all of his holsters and guns already, getting rid of any hard ridges that might dig into your skin painfully.

“You wanna try and get some sleep?” Jason asks, voice lowered. You’ve nestled into his side, and you hum with a small nod. 

For a moment, all you can hear is Jason’s breathing, the way each exhalation of air brushes against your temple. His fingertips graze against your arm, the touch fleeting like butterfly wings. You can feel the ache in your abdomen pulse, and you glance down at his hands. Gently, you bring one of them up to you, pinching the fabric between your thumb and pointer finger, and you tug his glove off. Jason doesn’t say anything, though his eyes follow your movements, his brows pulled inward. 

Then realisation dawns on him as you drop his hand against your stomach. Pulling you tighter against him, he dips his hand under your shirt, and presses his palm against your abdomen. His skin is warm, rough. Calluses live under his skin, but the feeling is comforting to you. 

“Feel okay?” Jason asks, and you nod. 

“Yeah. You’re warm.” 

Satisfaction bubbles inside him, and he hums quietly. The rise and fall of his chest is steady, consistent. His arms are caged around you, trapping you in a cocoon of heat. Though pain prickles under your skin, shooting through your abdomen as if something were piercing through your intestines, you let yourself surrender to the feeling of Jason, rather than the ache inside you. 

You hear Jason murmur your name, and you shift just enough to tilt your head up to him, your cheek resting on his breastbone. 

“Hm?”

There’s something hard inside his eyes, like he’s thinking about something troubling—something that hurts. It sends your chest clenching this time, rather than your stomach, and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong, if he’s uncomfortable with helping you like this. 

You’re about to open your mouth and utter some sort of apology, but he beats you to it. 

“Call me next time, okay?” 

There’s nothing in his tone that offers the chance of refusal or protest. His brows pinch forward, the frown lines between them deepened. It dawns on you that you’ve hurt him by not calling, by not reaching for him when you needed his comfort. 

Guilt gnaws against you, and tears spring to your eyes because it all feels like too much. The pain, the shame and humiliation of being seen like this, the guilt that’s flooded through you. It's too much. 

“I’m sorry—”

“No,” Jason cuts you off, his free hand, the one not pressing against your stomach, curls around your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheek. The touch sends your skin prickling, your heart jumping. 

“I’m not asking you to be sorry,” he says, “I’m just asking you to call me next time, okay? I—(Name)—I want to help you.” 

The first tear falls, and it’s hot against your skin. It’s not given the chance to linger though, as Jason brushes it away swiftly, as if the sight of you crying personally offends him. 

You feel him bend a little, neck stretched forward to place another sweet kiss against your forehead. That does linger, the warmth of his mouth, and you sink further into him. 

“I promise—” you croak out, “I promise I’ll call you next time.” 

There’s a deep inhale from Jason. His lips then move against your skin, his breath warm. 

“Good.” 

His fingers flex against your stomach, and the room dives into silence. It doesn’t weigh down on either of you, and it’s broken by the inner groans of the apartment, the outside noise of the city—cars cruising down streets, shouts floating along the wind, sirens wailing distantly. 

You don’t fall asleep instantly, nor does Jason. You both lay with your eyes hooded, open and watchful of the shadows that drift across the room, but your skin feels warm, and the pain starts to ebb away as time passes, like a scar softly closing over. 

thank you for reading, God bless <3

© harbours-lighthouse

[the---hermit]

My Study Method

I have quickly mentioned my study method in several posts through the years but I don't think I have ever written a proper post about it, so here it is.

I have to say that overall my study method is quite time consuming, but in years of experience it's what works best for the type of learner I am, the materials I have to study and the type of exams I have. I believe these three elements are the fundamental things you should figure out when creating your own study method. Let's go over these things quickly. Firstly I am an history student, tho not all my exams are history based (I have taken some language, philosophy, anthropology and litterature classes) so my method is proofed for most humanities. I am a learner with terrible memory, if you give me a list of things to learn by heart expect me to fail because my brain simply cannot do that. So I have to train myself to learn things when studying for an exam. As for the type of matherials I have to work with when studying for an exam, they are mostly full non fiction books, sometimes I have to work on articles as well, and depending on the class I have lectures to attend.

The fundamental element of my study method are the notes I write. That's why in my daily posts I am constatly mentioning them. The lectures I attend are turned into notes, the books and articles I have to read are turned into notes, everything you leave me with for too long will be turned into notes. The very act of writing is what truly helps me get into the topic, understand it, and memorize it. I might write an indepth post on how I write notes in the future, but for now what you must know is that the goal of my notes is to be the only material I actually study in the end. As I mentioned the very act of writing is itself a huge part of my study process. When I am listening to a lecture I try to write down notes as tidy as possible, and then try to fix them at home if needed. So there's not much to say there, as for the materials I have to read here's how I do it. When I get a book I have to study I usually read a chapter and underline all the important bits that I will be transferring to my notes as I am reading. When I am done with the chapter and have the topic still fresh in mind I write down by hand all my notes. The goal is to write everything I need to know, in a direct and easy way using my own words. By re-elaborating the original text I am making sure I am not blindly copying things, and actually understanding stuff. Once the entire book has gone through this process, the book goes back on the shelf and as I said I only work on my notes from then one.

Once I have all my notes ready a long time has probably passed, but in reading and writing I have already started to memorize things in general. I try to highlight my notes as I am writing, but in case I don't I go back once I am done writing, doing a quick reread and highlighting important stuff. I usually use two different colours: yellow for the important dates and another colour for the other informations. At this point there's two more steps left. Repeating and writing key words.

If writing notes can be counted as half of my studying, repeating outloud is the second half. Since I have oral exams I have to make sure I am comfortable with exaplaining things, showing I have understood things and I am not just midlessly reciting a list, and using the right terms. I am a very lucky person because my dad is both retired and quite interested in the topics that I study, which means that I get a lot of help from him in this phase of studying, because basically what I do is following him around the house for a few days exaplaining my notes to him. If you do not have someone to annoy with your study, talking to yourself works too but you have to speak outloud and honestly pretend you are giving a lecture. If you just go over your notes and read them it is not the same thing, it's way less effective. I usually do two rounds of repeating. The first one looks a lot more like reading and saying things outloud in my own words. By the second one I am usually much more comfortable with informations so I have my notes there only to guide me through topics making sure I don't miss anything. Having someone who actively listents to you is definitely a bonus because if they ask you questions they challenge you in the exact same way an oral exam does, and you make sure your exaplainations are as clear as possible.

The very last step is going through my notes one last time with the goal of writing a long list of key words. This is a tool I specifically use to review things quickly the day of the exam. Usually during my commute I reread the list of words in my head and I mentally make sure I remember about everything.

As mentioned this is a longer study method but it truly locks things in your brain, and paying that much attention to note writing also makes them a tool that lasts in time. If I am interested in the informations of any of the books I read during my degree I can pick the notebook in which I wrote those notes and find the information right away without even having to open the actual book. I usually dedicate a whole notebook to each book, in order to archive and find them easily. I will be writing a specific post on the way I write notes, maybe including a few pictures, but in the meantime I hope this was somewhat helpful.

[shesmore-shoebill]

Very glad smosh cast/crew are okay. hope that continues to be the case, and that everyone takes all the time they need to regroup from this.

Ended up pulling together a number of links from ones people (including the smosh folks) have been sharing and others ive been seeing over the course of the day, so compiling and posting it both for me to have on hand and in case other folks find it helpful.

@/mutualaidla on instagram has a number of resources if you either would like to give to local mutual aid efforts or are in need of any. This post compiles screenshots of resources from their story today. It includes places to give resources, places to get resources, where to get info/alerts if youre near the area, shelters, etc. This post by LocaleMagazine, similarly, compiles resources/information to get help/give help.

The LA Times, The Cut, and Time all have articles/instagram posts compiling ways for folks outside to help. (LA Insta post, the Cut article, the Time article).

For folks whose homes have been impacted, or know anyone whose homes have been impacted, this post from the LA Times outlines some steps that can be taken.

For information about go bags, staying up to date on alerts, evacuation tips, etc lafd.org can be used for alerts. readyla.county.gov can be used for text alerts, as well as information about what to pack in go bags/evacuation tips. For apps, both WatchDuty and the NWS (National Weather Service) app appear to be widely used atm.

Laatly, this post from Ify + the exploitative nature of the US carceral system, as firefighters risk their lives is. good to keep in mind.

[buggachat]

To be clear, I goddamn hated the finale on first watch. I was withering in my seat. My heart had dropped to my stomach. I had no fucking idea what I was watching in that final scene lmao

and then Adrien said "when Ladybug gave me the rings—" and I was like— wait. LADYBUG? LADYBUG STILL EXISTS?

I THOUGHT THE ENTIRE TIMELINE HAD BEEN REWRITTEN 😭😭😭😭 I THOUGHT LADYBUG AND CHATN OIR DIDNT UFCKING EXIST uNTIL ADRIEN SAID THAT I WAS SO SO SO SCARED

and then I realized, oh wait. This isn't a complete utopian timeline rewrite. This is just a timeskip of a few months and Mme Bustier is just a kickass mayor. In fact, she's only mayor BECAUSE it's still the same timeline. And then I realized, hey, wait, if they didn't rewrite the timeline, then how tf is Emilie casually there with no questions?

And then I realized she was wearing black. And Félix was there. And I remembered Amelie exists.

Basically, I went into the finale chanting to myself "it's okay, it's okay... they probably wont bring Emilie back... they probably won't rewrite the entire timeline permanently.... right? please....", even though I didn't actually expect it to happen, but just because I was terrified that it could. And apparently that fear actually got to me so much that I misinterpreted the episode as being everything I didn't want it to be... when... it actually wasn't that at all

anyway, all of this is to say, everything in the episode happens so fast that it confused and terrified me at first. And when I realized what had happened, my opinion went from "my year is ruined" to "oh. well. okay. kind of disappointing, I guess". And then I kept thinking about it, and the ending, and all that is set up and rewatching the scenes and all the loose ends still in place and.... i realized I loved it?

like, every time I think about this finale, I love it more. every time i rewatch a scene, I get a little obsessed. this episode went from my nightmare to actually really really cool to me, and I'm still kind of reeling from it

Basically, this is why I've been kind of passionately defending the finale— not because I think people who don't like it are """dumb""" or anything, I don't blame people at all for that, and I totally get the confusion. I was confused too. And I know I'm not the only one who went in preparing themselves for the worst, or went in with very specific expectation on what will happen, because this finale has been long awaited for so long. I think everyone was shocked with how it ended. I think most people probably startled at Amelie's face (it's so easy to forget she exists....)

Anyways, I started this post basically as an apology for if I seem too aggressive or defensive about the finale. Because I get it! I get hating it! I get being disappointed or frustrated or confused! Part of why I'm so defensive is because I have all the arguments so ready on the tip of my tongue because I had the very same argument with myself already 😭 So I'm sorry if any of my posts came off as too aggressive and in advance for any future posts that might. I promise promise promise I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for having bad opinions on the finale! I just think this episode is really cool and the fact I related to a lot of the nay-sayers makes it easy to feel so impassioned about it.

But this post is getting off the rails and I'm just gonna let it, because some of my regrets w my participation in fandom is that I find myself chickening out of actually talking about my thoughts on episodes a lot. I get kind of overwhelmed and overthink everything after I've posted it and I'm a shy person. But my inbox is closed and this is the season 5 finale and I want to ramble and ramble so I will allow myself this

Basically, I went in with some very specific expectations for this episode. We all know about the Hawkmoth defeat story. Many of us have read it in fics over and over again, it was teased in Chat Blanc, we all know what we expect, we all know our favorite beats from it.

And what actually happened....... met virtually none of those beats. (For me, at least).

Like, Adrien wasn't there for the final episode. At all. He was completely absent from the confrontation. He never found out his father was Hawkmoth. He got his rings, but he never found out he was a sentimonster. He is living in the dark.

Ladybug confronted Monarch... alone. Which is sad, when so much of the series is dedicated to the partnership of her and Chat Noir. Them against the world....... and Monarch was "defeated" with nary a Chat Noir in sight.

The whole entire "Gabriel is known as a hero" thing. I don't think anybody was expecting that. Absolutely shocking.

The fact Marinette would lie to Adrien like that. The fact she's keeping so much from him. The fact everyone is. SO MANY people in Adrien's life (Marinette, Plagg, Nathalie, Felix, Amelie, Kagami, probably Alya, maybe more I'm not thinking of....) are just... lying to him, now. He is so in the dark. He knows nothing.

But.........

I kind of like that I didn't predict nearly any of this. I like that it caught me off guard. I love how this show just completely baffles me at every turn, how it will present concepts and ideas to me that I've never read a fic about.

In retrospect, Chat Noir being absent from the final battle... makes sense. It actually makes a lot of sense, if I think about it, because... there is only one possible way that could've gone, right? Chat Noir would not be allowed to have the emotional implosion that he would have to have. This is devastating. This is SO devastating. This is the entire shattering of Adrien's entire world we're talking about, and Chat Blanc is the only real way for that to end. Adrien has an emotional implosion in front of Monarch, he gets akumatized, it turns into an emotion explosion, extinction event. The end. We've already seen it.

And........ even if it didn't end that way, even if he managed to avoid akumatization...... how could the finale satisfyingly end on that note? How could it end in any semblance of a "wrapped up" way, at the very start of Adrien's emotional breakdown? It couldn't. I wouldn't WANT it to. In retrospect, Adrien finding out his dad is Monarch and then.... what? The season ends on a close-up of him crying? The season ends with a time-skip to the new school year where they skipped his entire grieving period!? I would HATE that, actually. I would hate that. I thought I wanted it, but I would hate it. I would hate it so so so much.

What's kind of amazing is that the finale ended with Monarch being defeated.... but Adrien still has those realizations to make. He still has those betrayals to come to terms with. There is time for him to make these realizations, for him to come to these conclusions, perhaps one at a time, perhaps in a more controlled environment.... and that gets me far, far more excited for the seasons to come than an episode that tried to wrap it all up in the last 5 minutes.

Also, the reason Adrien didn't go to the final battle was because he feared becoming Chat Blanc. He didn't know the truth to it, didn't understand that literally, yes, that's what would have happened if he was there, even if he hadn't been under a nightmare curse. But he still knew. He still expected it. He willingly chose to sit it out, no matter how much he hated it, because he knew. And there's something kind of powerful to that, I think, of Adrien making a choice that is so unequivocally the Correct choice, even more than he realized. And the strength it took for him to make that decision...... damn.

As for the lies and the Gabriel statue? I... it's upsetting, but it's supposed to be. And I believe it. I absolutely believe it. I 10000% believe Marinette would keep the secret of Monarch's identity to herself to try to save Adrien the pain. I 10000% believe that the population could easily be led to believe a famous billionaire is a hero. I 10000% believe that Adrien would WANT to believe it. I 10000% believe Tomoe would take advantage of it.

And I can't wait to see that illusion crumble.

Also.... this is the beginning of The Lila arc.

And the Lila arc begins on........ Marinette telling the biggest, boldest face lie she ever told. The Lila arc begins on the most extreme city-wide illusion we've ever seen. It begins on such a huge fabrication and....

..... it's Marinette's lie.

............ and Lila knows that it's a lie.

I'm

!!?!?!?!

This is so fucking cool???? The irony here??? the deceit???? All these loose ends, all the possible confrontations, all the ways this could GO. I don't know where the show is taking this, obviously, because nobody ever can predict where this show is going apparently (and I love it for that), but oh my god. I'm imagining all the fics I could read about this. all the fics I could write. all the thoughts and scenarios that this finale has provided me with to daydream about as I go to sleep.

Adrien, going through the motions of life. Looking up to his father as a hero, despite the fact the last time he saw him, Adrien was sobbing, in tears, and cursing his name. Adrien, after all the abuse he was subject to, having to look up at a statue of his father and...... be forced to think that maybe he was wrong about his father. But he's not wrong. He WASN'T wrong. He just THINKS that he is. His father is going to continue to loom over his life in ways I never expected post-hawkmoth. Adrien's relationship with Gabriel has not ended, a new and terrifying and horrible new chapter of it has simply begun, and Adrien is still as manipulated by his father's ghost as he was by his father himself.

THAT'S. WILD!!!

also, Adrien now believes that MONARCH MURDERED HIS FATHER. Chat Noir now believes that his greatest nemesis KILLED HIS FATHER. CHAT NOIR, resident self-sacrificer, believes that HIS FATHER was a HERO who DIED FIGHTING MONARCH. Adrien thinks that maybe he should be more like his father— more like his father who died in battle. This is. Not Good. For Adrien.

And it's Marinette that started this. Well intentioned Marinette, who doesn't really understand the extent of the horrors. Marinette, Adrien's girlfriend, the person he trusts most. She did this.

And, I mean.... god. I totally get how this sucks for a lot of people, because it's objectively upsetting.... but I LOVE lovesquare tension. Season 4 is probably my favorite season for that reason alone (still mulling over if season 5 beat it for me). I love the relationship drama, I love that it's in character drama, I love how it fits everything we know about them sososo well, I love that it's horrible and it's terrible and it's awful and it's all because Marinette loved Adrien too much to want to hurt him.

I was worried no reveal would mean that season 6 would just be... what? adrienette fluff? not that I don't love that, but where's the drama? well. there it is. that's the drama.

I need to stop typing this. I know this is abysmally long and ranty and if you read all of this then I'm sorry. But I wanted to get some of my thoughts out.

But basically, I was expecting a lot of things for the finale.

In my best case scenario, it would somehow, miraculously tie up and address all the loose ends with Adrien's angst and character arc in two episodes.... and then end with me totally satisfied, ready to only half-heartedly watch season 6 like it was just a small dessert after the main course.

And I already described my worst case scenario (my first impression of the episode lmao)

But it wasn't that. I was expecting a series finale, but I got a season finale. And I love season finales. I love how they keep me wanting more. I love how excited I am for season 6, because in both my best and worst case scenarios, I honestly didn't expect to be. I love all the new ideas and thoughts and scenarios swirling around in my brain. And even if season 6 doesn't address some of the things I want addressed, I'm so excited to see the creative content in this fandom that DOES

[marlynnofmany]

First typo of the day: "crowcar" instead of "crowbar."

I will not get distracted by the idea of a crow steering with its beak. I won't. I will be strong.

[littlestarpjm]

𝒾 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊

Yin Yang Master: Dream of Eternity (2020) // Fangs of Fortune (2024) dir. by Guo Jingming

[tealmoth]

just thought about the parallel between “i love you”/“i know” and “it’s zeb, short for garazeb”/“i know” so hard that i think i’m gonna die

[winn-wynn]

If Hogwarts used Emails

From: Percy Weasley <percy.weasley@s.hogwarts.edu>

To: Filius Flitwick <filius.flitwick@hogwarts.edu>

Subject: CHARMS-ASGMNT 3

Dear Prof. Flitwick,

I hope this message finds you well. I am currently working on assignment 3, which is about the history of Weathering-Modifying Charms and whether or not they should be regulated. I also remember you writing down mobilicorpus, which is the spell for moving bodies of those who found themselves unable to walk. I was wondering if you meant mobiliarbus, which the spell to move plants and trees, which is closer to the subject?

I would greatly appreciate any guidance or suggestions you have to offer.

Thank you and have a great night!

Percy Weasley

W8008569

From: Filius Flitwick <filius.flitwick@s.hogwarts.edu>

To: Percy Weasley <percy.weasley@s.hogwarts.edu>

Subject: Re: CHARMS-ASGMNT 3

whoops typo yeah it's supposed to be mobiliarbus

-Flitwick

Sent from my iPhone

[ebonytails]

Hey everyone! this is where the zebra is currently with the design.

It has knee braces!! I will most probably be drawing the zebra usually with them on, but it’s no requirement, for example if anyone else wants to draw the zebra :-]. I always like to make sure an animal design has official colors underneath any clothing and accessory anyway. I think this will be final! thank you everyone for your feedback!

As a reminder, aside from why the zebra was requested for this flag, this is also just a zebra with the disability pride flag on it. It’s just a deisgn to fit the flag, with input from other disabled people in our community. It doesn’t mean other animals can’t have designs with these colors, too! I don’t mean this design to be the only mascot for all disabled people. It’s just a silly series i do of pride animals, and at the time, during disability pride month, I wanted to see what everyone wanted me to start off with for this flag!

the goal with my pride animals is to take requests and make people feel happy and seen.. that’s all <:-)

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter warmers day 25: Holiday alone time. No pairing. A bit of Max&GP. About 1.2k words.

Max sits down on the carpet, back against the couch, setting his glass of gin tonic down beside him.

The house is quiet, and he closes his eyes, letting his head fall back right beside where Sassy is curled up, listening to her breathing.

It's weird to be alone at Christmas.

He can't remember it ever happening before. Even in the worst years, when money was tight and home wasn't always a happy place, he was never alone.

It's not that he lacked invitations. His mom had called several times telling him to go, and Victoria had invited him too. Even some of his friends had reached out, telling him about their plans, asking him to join. But for the first time, all Max wanted for Christmas was silence.

He had plans lined up for the weeks after new years, and for the months after that, but the idea of having to be Max Verstappen for one more minute had been unbearable.

So he had told everyone he was busy, he had plans, he was fine, and then he had closed himself in his house and had let his brain go quiet.

He shifts slightly, moving his head closer to Sassy, nuzzling her side with his nose until she chirps at him, curling away.

"Just you and I, Sassy girl," he murmurs, attempting to kiss her paw and failing, only succeeding in making her shift further away. Somewhere in the kitchen, he hears Jimmy hops down from a chair, never one to be left out.

When he had told Victoria his plans for the holidays, she had asked him if he was having a midlife crisis too early, which is a stupid thing to say, because you never know when the middle of your life is. And also, Max is not having a crisis.

He's just...tired.

He had thought that retirement would mean finally having time to himself, but so far, two full weeks into it, this was the first day he had felt like he could leave his phone on the table and not having to check it. The first day he had nothing on his schedule. No meetings, no sponsor dinners, no videos to film, no streams to entertain.

Just him, his drink, and his cats.

He lets his eyes fall closed, a hand instinctively going to cover his glass, because Jimmy is always sticking his nose where he shouldn't.

He knows sitting on the floor is not the smartest choice, he can feel a twinge in his lower back already, but the carpet feels nice under his fingers, and he doesn't feel like getting up.

Jimmy's wet nose bumps against his wrist, nosing along the rim of the glass, and Max chuckles, opening one eye to look down at him, predictably finding him trying to get into his gin tonic.

"That's not for kittens," he chides softly, pushing him away and then dragging him close with his free hand. Jimmy, contrary to what Sassy would have done, lets himself be moved around and placed in his lap, already purring.

For a while, they just stay like that. Sassy breathing, Jimmy purring and Max just listening. Quiet.

Then Max's phone chimes once, making him jump.

He doesn't want to check it. He doesn't want to have to be a person again, even if just for the time it would take to answer a text, but he reaches for it anyway, the worry that it could be something important gnawing at him.

Should I be worried about you?

Max frowns, looking at the text from GP. No hellos, no how are yous, just that puzzling question. Their last conversation had been about the red bull Christmas party, about taking a car together.

No?

His phone immediately pings again, as if GP had been waiting for him to answer.

I heard you're hiding and the Max I know doesn't hide. So, should I be worried?

Who the fuck has been snitching to GP?

I am not hiding I am having some well earned alone time. I am perfectly fine.

He sends it before he can think too hard about it, not wanting to question if it's the whole truth. He is fine. There is nothing physically wrong with him, and he is content, sitting here with his cats. The fact that he also feels weirdly lost and exhausted doesn't change the fact that he is fine.

Do you want to come here?

That doesn't require much thinking. He's spent time with GP's family before, and they're lovely, but if he had wanted to spend time with people he would have gone home.

No thank you.

I can be in Monaco tomorrow.

Max pauses, fingers hesitating before he can type his refusal. He doesn't need anyone to come over. He's fine. And he still doesn't feel like having to be Max Verstappen, doesn't have the energy for it.

But GP is different. GP never made him feel like he should be anyone other than himself. And GP can be quiet, quiet enough to let Max's brain be silent too.

Are you bored of retirement already?

It's not a yes, or a no, but Max hopes that GP will figure it out anyway.

I'll be there for lunch. You can call me if you need anything.

GP always does.

Max drops his phone again to take a sip of his gin tonic, the ice melting in it already, then turning to try and nuzzle Sassy again.

In the safe space of his silent house he is finally able to admit to himself that maybe, just maybe, he isn't absolutely fine. He feels lost, like for the first time in his life he doesn't know what his next step is, and he feels tired, like his whole racing career caught up with him all at once.

But that's okay. GP will be here tomorrow, and he will sort him out. Because he always does.

[qcellbit]

meta talk. i don't quite know how to word this properly, but adding french creators to the qsmp is the riskiest thing quackity studios could've done and it doesn't surprise me that the success to which it was executed was minimal.

adding portuguese speaking creators exclusively from brazil as the first batch outside of the initial english and spanish speakers was the perfect "soft expansion" for the server when you consider the reason for the project's conception - because quackity had experienced poor treatment from white americans as a bilingual latino creator and sought to unite his two communities in an empowering way, further expanding this very noble and personal idea to encapsulate all communities and all languages spanning across the entire world. inviting more latino creators who have likely had the same experiences and would be able to appreciate what the project is trying to achieve is a no-brainer.

it's an uncomfortable thing to touch on (which is why i've never, ever, seen it spoken about on this website), but minecraft projects and communities have always had massive problems with all forms of bigotry, but especially racism. white americans and white europeans have probably not felt the euphoria of seeing their culture celebrated in mainstream global entertainment projects as they already absolutely dominate the entertainment industry on a global scale. as someone who is visibly brown and living in europe, i've always got a lot of grief from classmates and co-workers in the form of ignorant jokes and flat out exclusion - it's an unfortunate cultural norm that bleeds into streaming due to the medium's casual and open nature, unnoticed or unchallenged by white viewers who don't want to have to confront a content creator's bigotry in fears of having to stop watching them. something that cannot be ignored by the people it's actually affecting. there is a reason dsmp and hermitcraft cosplay meet ups are dominated by pale skin.

i love the qsmp because its inclusion of latin american creators and quackity's selectiveness based on personal experience have largely (and i do mean largely, not entirely, but that's a discussion for another day) eliminated that problem.

the most prominent and succinct example i can think of is the photo of quackity's bedroom that was mocked countless times by his english speaking community and his bigoted english speaking friends when he streamed on the dsmp - when that photo was brought to the qsmp, forever, a fellow latino creator, was the first person to gently offer solidarity because he had come from the same impoverished latin american background. to me, and to a lot of minorities, that is what the qsmp is about. yeah, sharing languages in a minecraft server is novel, it's a fun way for americans who did poorly in high school to get back into learning spanish, but it stands for so much more when you're a racial minority. when your pleading in the dsmp fandom was drowned out and ignored for the entire duration of its run. when you're completely unrepresented in minecraft tournaments, and when known bigots are encouraged to participate in said tournaments to boost viewership because numbers are paramount. when you are finally seeing your culture appreciated rather than mocked on streams with tens of thousands of viewers all over the world as part of a massive project with a brilliant, engaging story.

it was obviously necessary to branch out of the americas at some point with what the project is attempting to achieve, but such a task is daunting when the next group you're inviting and their community probably do not have the capacity through personal experience to appreciate what the project stands for at its core in the same way the first batches do. can non americans all relate in discussions of the internet and entertainment industry being america and by extension english speaking centric? yeah, of course. but can white europeans relate when the only representation you have in said media revolves around harmful bigoted stereotypes? can there be a quiet solidarity between a white frenchman and a brown brazilian based on experiences with government, racial profiling, and online mockery? no. and in the landscape of livestreaming stupid jokes for entertainment alongside fast paced gameplay, these nuances are probably not going to be acknowledged.

in complete contrast to the solidarity exhibited between quackity and forever when discussing their poverty growing up in latin america, i have not forgotten and never will forget aypierre excusing his constant racist jokes aimed at the brazilians on his uniquely "french dark humour" that the brazilians, hurt by his comments, could "not understand." this is not an excusable cultural difference, but a symptom of white european privilege, and total ignorance towards what the project is meant to stand for. a smooth integration of all the world's cultures necessitates white european and white american introspection in a way that i haven't seen a lot of streamers capable of. admitting fault to such a degree and the ego of a large online personality do not often mesh well.

i'm always very irritated when people (especially english speakers) complain about them not "adding the germans" sooner despite us seeing applications for german speaking admins many months ago - because it would not be a task of simply throwing out server invites to content creators and cobbling together an animation of a submarine crashing into the island. you cannot downplay the ambition of this project and the mammoth task its trying to accomplish. people take for granted and forget that this is an unprecedented melding of cultures that would never otherwise interact and clash on the rare occasions they do. the french qsmp community being small and the french creators largely being outliers when it comes to the qsmp is not something born out of malice or purposeful exclusion, but simply a symptom of an unspoken lack of solidarity and inability to meaningfully relate based on everything from wildly varying privilege to global placement.

and don't get me wrong - i'm not excusing things like the times at which events are broadcast (i literally live in europe and have to stay up until sunrise to see most events, i think the admins do have to bite the bullet and begin structuring events around a new timezone that isn't the globally inconvenient unsustainable PST), or the exclusion of clips from french content creators at the presidential dinner, but i think attributing those admin choices to the brazilian community being unfairly favoured is downplaying what the qsmp as a project means for minorities, especially when the brazilian community receive the most scorn for infamously being the first to call out bigoted behaviour from qsmp content creators. yeah, it sucks that the french haven't slotted into the qsmp as well as the brazilians and aren't anywhere as numerous, but with all these unspoken contributing factors being taken into account, i can't be surprised.

i wish quackity and his team the best in smoothly integrating more languages and cultures in this amazing project in the future, but for the love of god please understand that the implications of this project and its impact are far larger than any streamer "drama" you might've witnessed in the past. and stop underplaying what this project is trying to achieve in an online landscape saturated in bigotry.

[ribbononline]

Small snippet of Mother Earth and Her Infinite Sky (preview) by @silverjirachi ! Admittedly very compressed down to fit into a single page. But still!

[typosandtea]

Vertibirds. 🚁⚙️🗡️🪽

So every wastelander and his dog know that the fallout 4 vertibirds crash more than settlements need help. But why is that? Here's my 2 caps on the matter. (Or: Bethesda doesn't understand aviation very well I think)

( So uh this is way longer than I expected, I was possessed🚁☢️:] )

TLDR: Horrific conditions for aviation, the difficulties of wasteland heavy maintenance, inexperienced pilots AND mechanics, and the WORST damn instrument layout I’ve ever seen

The Vertibird is designed as a fictional tilt rotor VTOL/STOL(Vertical/Short Take Off and Landing) aircraft which makes a ton of sense in the wasteland where suitable runways are rarer than hens teeth. One of Bethesda's primary visual design influences for the vertibird I suspect is the bell boeing v-22 Osprey.

This funky creature \/

This photo is from the Wikipedia page >Here< [ID: a photo of a v22 osprey aircraft in flight as seen from below and to the right, the aircraft is a medium tilt rotor aircraft with very large propellers, the aircraft is current in vertical take off or landing with the engines pointed straight up. The landing gear is extended, the aircraft is painted in air-force grey with the faint decal “marines” and the American army star on horizontal stripes and the squadron and registration barley visible on the empennage. The cargo and forward doors are open and a soldier is hanging out the front. End ID]

Now the Osprey has a bit of a reputation among people I’ve met who’ve flown in them, I've personally been told things like "if it's not leaking hydraulic fluid, that means you're out of fluid" and "its terrifying to fly in".

My screenshot. [ID: A screenshot of a fallout 4 vertibird, seen from front left in flight over bushland. the Player is manning the minigun and Paladin Danse is a Passenger. End ID]

Looking at the Vertibirds themselves we can make a few assumptions here.

The shape of the cowling and the noise they make indicates that the engines are some form of turboprop engine, likely requiring liquid fuel akin to Avtur(Aviation turbine fuel). Confirmed by the Instruments visible in the cockpit.

The most weight efficient way to move big parts is hydraulics so, they likely have complex hydraulic systems for wing positioning / AOA(Angle Of Attack) / engine angle. Likely also for landing gear since they have retractable gear in fallout 4.

That the BoS has modified them from the original design at least partially, allowing attachment to the Prydwen, likely other modifications too.

I strongly suspect that they have an APU(Auxiliary Power Unit) in the aft fuselage / empennage somewhere, since they have a massive air intake scoop on the top fuselage, they can self start their primary engines which either requires a ridiculous amount of electricity / amps or a source of bleed air. Bleed air is the most likely candidate for self start and is reasonably common on real turbine aircraft, APUs also allows for ground power without having primary engines running. Also confirmed by the instruments in the cockpit.

All of these points are well and good and common in aviation, even modifications (ie. STOL kits, survey aircraft, agricultural mods, skiis, ect). But modern aviation has some advantages that the BoS doesn't have: access to new off the shelf parts, proper verified documentation, proper test processes & facilities, and experienced personnel.

Don't get me wrong, I think Proctor Ingram is awesome, very knowledgeable and practically a miracle worker (especially with that one terminal entry about an engine failure field recovery she pulls off!!), but one chief engineer cannot maintain an entire fleet AND the Prydwen, she comments on how things are breaking often on the ship that she is very busy! Training of new engineers takes *years* to even get to basic level! Ingram can’t train anyone she is too busy keeping everyone in the air 24/7! So who is training all of these scribes? There must be a huge amount of time teaching and supervising even simple tasks! Even at their best the BoS wouldn’t be able to hope to be near the prewar standards of training! Even Ingram or other senior scribes would not be thaaaaat experienced, 10 years is not a long time to completely learn a new aircraft and implement systems & processes of maintenance. The point here is that there are inexperienced scribes maintaining these aircraft.

WOLRDS BEST CHEIF ENGINEER ❤️ \/

My Screenshot. [ID: A screenshot of proctor Ingram from fallout 4, she is standing in the Liberty prime control area. She is smiling. She is wearing her usual modified power armour frame. Preston is visible in the background with a clipboard and pen, he is wearing woody’s outfit from toy story. End ID]

Heavy maintenance in the wasteland, especially in an active combat zone would be an absolute nightmare, are the poor scribes doing overhauls on the flight deck?? Not really possible, so the BoS must have a ground facility at the airport somewhere. Also side note where is the rest of Boston airport? There is more to an airport than a terminal and 1 runway, where are all the hangars?? Likely underwater but still, no ruins??

Back to maintenance, aircraft need a huge amount of care, way way way more than cars do. light civilian aircraft IRL need a full inspection every 100 hours of flight time, which adds up incredibly quickly! For example if you have a one hour commute twice a day that’s MR(Maintenance Release) hours reached in 50 days! You legally cannot fly out of hours. And a service for small aircraft takes about 3 personnel / 2 days and that’s without any major repairs or ADs (Airworthiness Directives) to address! $$$$! Aircraft operating in adverse conditions also need additional maintenance, and coastal areas like Boston, are considered adverse conditions since the salt air corrodes aluminum and steel like nothing else! Corrosion untreated will damage your aircraft and if left too long can destroy the structural integrity of aluminum parts. The spars of aircraft are aluminum often!

My photo. [ID: The inside of a Cessna 172 wing trailing edge is shown looking inboard at the aft root rib, which is primer green, it is backlit by torchlight, the fuselage and a orange scat hose are visible behind it, it has 3 irregular shaped holes in it, 2 are by design but the third medium sized hole in the center of the image is eaten away by corrosion. End ID]

Vertibirds, between being shot at constantly and having a complex deign with a lot of precision moving parts will need a lot of repairs; moving parts means lots of upkeep, grease and inspections! The BoS by 2287 must have some sort of manufacturing back in capital, they cannot still be using old parts from the enclave after 10 years of maintenance, that’s a lot of grease, paint and hydraulic fluid!!!

The BoS must also have a refinery of some kind because Avtur is a refined fuel with some important additives like biocide. Manufacture and storage of fuel is very important since fuel contamination will bring down an aircraft! (and has multiple times IRL! :[ ). Water, microbes, and algae are real dangers to engines, with free water being the most common. Poorly sealed tanks or improper fuel storage combined with a incomplete or missed pre-flight inspection can lead to fuel starvation, since water is heavier than fuel and tank outlets are at the bottom of the tank. If you loose an engine on a twin, may God help you.

This image is from Concordia Bioscience >Here< [ID: A photo of a sample of pale yellow Jet fuel in a clear container, the sample is contaminated with water and microbes and has separated into layers with water at the bottom, then microorganisms, and then Fuel at the top, the image is labeled as such. End ID]

Getting to the most likely crash reasons now (finally), In my opinion that is inexperienced pilots and; a horrific instrument layout.

While there must be some lancers in the BoS that have been flying for the whole 10 years that they’ve had Vertibirds, I think that is likely the exception not the rule, even if they crashed a fraction of the time that do in game that’s still A LOT of downed aircraft!

Experience is only gained in practice, and unfortunately for the BoS they are (self-declared) at war so resources are thin and safe zones are thinner. I suspect that there are a lot of very inexperienced pilots without the time for the experienced pilots to really teach.

Linking to my final point, experience on an airframe itself is also important, you want to be familiar with your aircraft, even among a group of the same model aircraft they will each have quirks, like slightly different instrument layouts, slightly different handling/feel i.e. "this one flies heavier / slower" (at least that's my experience with smaller civilian aircraft) I imagine that the apocalypse did nothing for improving manufacturing tolerances!

FINAL AND MOST DAMNING POINT:

Experience can only help lancers so much when veritibirds have such a strange instrument panel layout:

My screenshot. [ID: a screenshot of a instrument panel from a Fallout 4 vertibird. it is slanted on a approximately 30 degree angle. End ID]

A bit weird looking yeah? For reference Pilot is left seat and copilot is always right seat, this applies globally even in right hand drive countries.

lets take a closer look:

My Screenshots. [IDs: Three screenshots of the same Instrument panel as above, but zoomed in using a sniper rifle scope to get a better look. The first screen shot is the pilots side, the second the center, and the third the copilots side. End ID]

All righty! So reading from top to bottom, then left to right we have:

On the pilots side: A Rotor%RPM gauge, a VOR(Very high frequency Omni-directional Range) indicator, a DG(Directional Gyro), a HSI(Horizontal Situation Indicator), and then a huge AI(Attitude Indicator),

In the center section we have: presumably light clusters (likely master warnings & cautions, gear indicators, and other status lights), a second VOR gauge, likely magnetic compass as they are usually top centre (though I can’t see it being at all accurate with all of the steel around!), the engine instruments cluster, and the APU status / control panel at the bottom. unsure of what the 3 clusters of horizontal buttons are suppose to be other than input of some kind?

In the Engine cluster: Torque%, XMSN(transmission) oil temp / pressure dual gauge, a gas producer % RPM gauge with small integrated single percent dial (like having a seconds dial on your watch for accuracy) meaning the engines have free turbines (compressor not attached to the power turbine), a dual load / fuel psi gauge, a dual engine oil pressure and temperature gauge, fuel quantity in pounds, a turbine output temperature gauge (the hottest part of your engine), and a clock.

On the copilots side: a second Rotor%RPM dual gauge, a third VOR indicator, Airspeed in Knots and MPH, a RMI(Radio Magnetic Indicator) which uses VOR and ADF(Automatic Direction Finder) on compass, a second DG, a second HSI, and a teeny tiny altimeter right in the outboard corner.

the 4 instruments on the lower copilots panel are completely unlabeled

some things of note that are from game limitations:

most of the engine instruments don't have needles at all

the DGs and the RMI use the same background asset, resulting in the DG wrongly having 'VOR' and 'ASI' on its face, DGs are self contained air driven instruments that work on gyroscopic precession, not any outside data input.

all of the instruments with a compass face all say north despite this vertibird not quite facing north.

the AI is showing wings level despite this vertibird being crashed and on a ~30 degree angle

there are not engine controls at all not even flat assets, only flight controls.

There are a lot of instruments here and most of them are reasonably OK read individually, BUT there at least 1 key instrument missing and the layout outs emphasis on completely the wrong things:

WHERE IS THE VERTICAL SPEED INDICATOR(VSI)????? That's a pretty important gauge in a VERTICAL take off / landing aircraft!!!!!!!!!! It's one of the basic six pack!!! how was it omitted??? Speaking of the six pack why is there only one ASI and Altimeter?? and why are they tiny and ON THE COPILOTS SIDE ONLY???? the altimeter is LITERALLY the furthest instrument from the pilot in a vertibird, it should be right in front of the pilot!!! the easy to miss altimeter would make IFR(Instrument Flight Rules) flying incredibly dangerous! Also why are there four VOR based navigational instruments? VOR IS GROUND BASED NAVIGATION!!! unless the BoS has rebooted the multiple ground beacons for them to navigate from that's THREE dead instruments taking up space on the panel! the RMI is slightly more useful as ADF can tune to commercial radio frequencies, though these would need to be strong!

These poor inexperienced lancers are having to look all over the whole unnecessarily crowded cockpit for basic information that should be right in front of them, causing reaction delays and possible confusion. That delay could be the difference between whether or not they are flying home today.

-> Bethesda doesn't understand what half the instruments do and while they did a good job with most of the assets, in their quest to make it retro-future / visibly different from actual aircraft, they have completely destroyed any use of logic in the layout.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading! Here’s a video of me yeeting Danse with the ‘Get out of my face mod’ as compensation haha

My Video. [ID: a video capture from fallout 4 in first person. It is night and is at oberland station facing the water treatment plant. The player is wearing power armour and the HUD is visible. The player is very close to Paladin Danse, he turns away from them and they shove him with the voice line “stay out of my way”. Danse flys a long way away while rag-dolling. The Gamer’s laughter can be heard while Danse is flying. The player follows Danse’s fall with the crosshairs. The player then walks backwards. End ID]

[narcissusneverknewme]

like are Zoro and Sanji a ship? someone please tell me, I can't look into it for fear of spoilers I'm only in alabasta