instrument panels

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Interior view of the offices of the KV-1: left place gunner-radio operator in the center of the place of the driver, visible instrument panel, levers and pedals control the tank, right cylinders to start the engine with compressed air. Below – radio 10-R. On the third pictures of the plant unit TPU in the tower of the KV-1.

Photos of American test report KV-1.

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Yuri!!! on ice Musical AU that I spent too much time on and procrastinated posting -_-

I’m pretty sure a lot of musical AU’s exist already but this has been sticking around in my head esp after reading a lot of speculations that Yuuri is represented by the piano, and Victor the violin in the Yuri on Ice and Stay Close to me soundtracks.

In my head it works like this: Victor is a world renown Violinist who is pretty uninspired and unmotivated but he stumbles across Yuuri who is an obscure concert Pianist. Yuuri captures Victor’s heart interest after a performance, becoming Victor’s accompanist. The two of them perform duets together and basically become a musical power couple.

I guess it’s kinda like a Your Lie In April AU?except no one dies and they perform together more than once p l e a s e ;_;

Also If you are interested in other similar AU’s check out tanaw’s beautiful paintings and xrippuino’s your lie in april au which is great >_<

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Some different angles of Baby2

All that is left to do before SeaCon is put little touch up paint on the body, attach the the seat belts in the back seat, replace the steering shift knob, fix the fuse to light up the instrument panel, and then win the lottery so I can have the rust removed, body damage repaired and get her completely painted!!! ;D lol TBA

But at least she is safe to drive and ready to go!

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Reinventing the wheel: Part 8 Saab 9000 Prometheus, 1992. A prototype which was created under a European "Prometheus" programme (Programme for European Traffic with Highest Efficiency and Unprecedented Safety). The steering wheel was replaced with a centrally mounted joystick. This configuration reduced the risk of body and facial injury in the event of an accident and provided easier airbag installation, as well as improved instrument panel visibility

A man lives in a foreign country, and his job is to operate the train that connects one town to another. He is not very good at his job, and he is also very greedy. Since his income does not meet his expenses, he decides to steal from his passengers’ fares. At first he steals only a little. However, as he gets more and more greedy, he steals more and more. Eventually, he is caught. The company is furious. Once he has been tried and found guilty, the company asks for the death penalty. The court refuses choosing to banish him from the country instead.

The man moves on to another country, certain that he can dedicate himself to a new life. However the only thing he really understands is operating trains, so before long, he is a train operater in this new country. Unfortunately, the old habits come back, and after a while, he starts stealing from the passengers’ fairs again. Once again, he is eventually caught and taken back to trial. Once he is found guilty, the judge says he sees no hope for reform, since this is the second time the man has been caught doing this. Thus, the judge sentences the man to death.

On the day of execution, the man is placed in the electric chair, and the chair is turned on. Much to the surprise of everyone there, the man is not even hurt. He just sits there, as if nothing is happening. The instrument panel says that the electric chair is working, but the man is completely unaffected! The chair is turned off and on several more times, but the man doesn’t even flinch! Finally, one of the guards asks the man why the electric chair isn’t hurting him, and the man replies, “Well, I’ve always been a really poor conductor.”

anonymous asked:

If you're still taking fluff ficlet requests, some Shiro/Matt? (Because I'm dying after the ending of that last chapter I need my sons to be happy)

[I’m writing Dualityverse fluff ficlets! (Because the latest chapters have been pure angst.)] [Read them all here. Now on AO3 as Finding Family.]

I’m defo still taking fluff requests. Unless I get suddenly flooded with them, they’re open until the end of the current arc in Duality.

Set in or around chapter 15 of Someplace Like Home.


“Remind me again why I’m blindfolded?”

Matt shushed Shiro, flicking his nose. Shiro flinched back, mouth dropping open in a look of mild offense that made Matt grin. It was early, the castle utterly silent except for their breathing and the shuffle of their footsteps. The close walls of this corridor swallowed the sound, as it swallowed the dim light of the illumination strips running along the floor. They might have been walking in an isolated bubble of reality, surrounded by nothingness on all sides.

“You’re blindfolded,” Matt said, “because this is supposed to be a surprise.”

Shiro quirked an eyebrow over the top of his black sleep mask—a gift from Lance, who’d made everyone their own silk sleep mask during one of his bouts of hyper-productivity. “A surprise?” Shiro asked. “In the Red Lion’s tower? Interesting.”

Matt stopped walking, gaping at Shiro in disbelief. “You—how did you—that’s not fair, Takashi!

With a smug grin, Shiro walked on, still blindfolded, tugging on their joined hands to pull Matt along. “It’s not my fault you have no sense of direction. Some of us happen to enjoy knowing where we’re going.”

Matt snorted, quickening his stride to pass Shiro and hip-checking him for good measure. “Where’s the adventure in that?” he asked. “Now let me lead before you break your nose on one of these walls.”

“Like you’d let me run into anything.”

“If you keep ruining my surprises I might,” Matt warned. Shiro only laughed.

[continued below]

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Little Swift part 2

ADAM POV

I felt like the world stopped around me. I shouldn’t have been shocked. I was in Nashville at her record label’s office, but Scott told me she wouldn’t be in today as she had important things to do….

But here she was, in front of me, white as a sheet.

“Mommy! This man saved me on the stairs… I almost felled but he catched me and saved me. Like Prince Charming!” The little girl I had just helped up started saying, snapping me out of my daze by wiggling under my hand to get off the desk.

The little girl who apparently belonged to Taylor. Now, you’d think that I’d know if Taylor had a child, after all she is still one of the biggest pop stars around, but this was definitely a surprise. Obviously she had gotten a lot more sneaky about hiding things and staying out of the spotlight over the years.

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2

The pilots’ instrument panel and flight controls of a Short Stirling Mk I of No. 7 Squadron RAF at Oakington, Cambridgeshire, February 1942.

Pieter Codde - Lady Seated at Virginals

first half of 17th century

oil on oak panel

private collection

Wingman

Originally posted by world-of-color

Incorporating these imagines: Imagine being the newest pilot in Poe’s squadron and being really unsure about how good of a pilot you are. When Poe notices he immediately takes you under his wing and helps you become more confident + Imagine BB-8 trying to set you up with Poe + Imagine that BB-8 is the only one who knows about your crush on Poe

Thanks to the fabulous @drabbletastic for the beta read :) 

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No Place Like Home

The future is a different country. Sometimes it’s hard to find home. 

A What If Peggy (with the Serum) was in the ice with Steve AU (Steggy Secret Santa gift for @bisexualhayesmorrisons)

Note: This is… slightly more melancholy in tone than I’d really intended, especially at the beginning, but I hope you enjoy it regardless. Also, this is not compliant with Peggy’s backstory in S2.



“I’ve gotta put her in the water,” Steve said, looking at her as she fiddled with the radio, trying to get someone on the line.

She didn’t acknowledge the words. She focused on the panel in front of her, but her shoulders were tense and the red nails of her empty hand bit into her palm. They had both looked at the instruments panel. It didn’t take fluency to know that whatever Schmidt had pressed earlier had locked them on course to New York. There wasn’t any choice, and they both knew it. The plane had to go down, and the only way to accomplish that now was to do it manually.

“Peggy?”

She looked over at him, her hair mussed and falling in her eyes after the fighting with Schmidt. She watched him with resignation for a moment. She’d always known there was the possibility that they might not live to see the end of the war, but right now it was overwhelming. She sighed and went still, when Steve reached out to take her hand, gently pressing his gloved fingers against her clenched ones, prompting her fingers uncurling to wrap tightly around his. Some of the tension ebbed away from her frame, but there was a fear there that wouldn’t be assuaged with a mere touch.

“If I could just find the bloody frequency-” Peggy grumbled, adjusting the radio panel with her free hand. There was a pop and crackle before static.

“I’m sorry, Peggy.”

She sighed. “I know.”

Ice stretched across the horizon, a white blanket. There was a moment of regret and pain for all the things neither of them would get to see now. All those plans and promises they’d both acknowledged but never quite made were going to end here in the cold. When Steve let go of her hand to take hold of the stick, Peggy laid her hand on top of his and nodded.

Together, they pushed, sending the plane careening down toward the ice below.

“I guess we won’t make that dance after all,” Steve said, looking at her. He laughed, a sad chuckle that sent a lance through her heart. “Probably for the best, I would have hated to step on your toes.”

Peggy was tempted to laugh. Of all the things for him to worry about- even if it was for nothing. “Far worse things have happened to me than you stepping on my toes, Steve.”

He smiled sadly. “We could have had the band play something slow.”

Peggy woke gasping, a sharp prickle running across her skin like needles. It was a feeling of ice in her veins. She had dreamed of the crash before, the feeling of the wind and the cold and the searing pain that followed. It was never the same twice, sometimes she dreamed of other horrors: of the Schmidt’s red skull laughing as the plane went down in flames and the feel of blood pooling at her feet and covering her hands.

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