#F-22 Pilot

[nocternalrandomness]

F-22 Pilot Capt. Nichole "FIRE" Bahlman from the Air National Guard 199th FS at Hickam AFB, Hawaii

[thatsrightice]

From your reply to my ask:

Whomst has summoned the avgeek—

I don’t want you to cry, but favorite commercial and military aircraft?

Also: I am in complete agreement—Ice fighting off FIVE MiGs was so cool, badass and hot.

Okokokokokok I needed a sec to run around and scream but I’m ok

Airplanes are amazing and I love them. Every time I see one or am on one I literally can’t stop smiling. Its impossible not to.

Let’s start commercial; so my favorite is a bit more private than commercial but I have a soft spot for Gulfstream because I may or may not work there. You can call me biased, but with windows that are EVENLY spread so each seat has a perfect window view not to mention the INSANELY HUGE windows, it’s hard not to love. I specifically enjoy the G650 model for more biased reasons.

Like come on! I always get window seats flying commercial but half the time the windows are like out of reach or basically behind me so these windows are incredibly cool to me. Did I mention they’re 28” wide? Insane.

———

Favorite military plane is a LOT harder but I do love the F-22 Raptor. When I saw the F-22 twilight demo at EAA for the first time I immediately fell in love with it. It was the first airplane I genuinely held above the rest. I had always loved aviation but it made me fall in love all over again, nothing compares to hearing the crackle of the afterburner as it streaks across the sky I get goosebumps every time. Genuinely an amazing aircraft, one of the best if not the best ever produced. Here, have this pic I took after a pilot flew a demo and no he’s not flipping off the camera I promise :)

F-14 Tomcat is always up there for sure. I love reading stories and listening to podcast episodes from the people who flew them. A big part of my interest in them, beside the movie Top Gun, is the shear amount of ISSUES they had! Like literal death traps at times 💀💀💀 To put it crudely (and probably incorrectly just know there’s some truth to it), you couldn’t change your airspeed while doing maneuvers without the compressor stalling, the hydraulic issues, the TF-30 engine throwing fan blades that would literally tear apart the engine to pieces, did I mention the extremely common compressor stall?, the occasional flap slat disconnect issues, I could go on forever. It’s such a humbling aspect of the jet that not many people know about. The fact that it’s a two-seater is also so cool cause it’s becoming less common in newer aircraft (I’m looking at you F-35).

[indynerdgirl]

I saw an open tag on one of these (though I can't remember who it was 🫣) and thought this one looked fun!

Judge me based on my: lockscreen, homescreen, Pinterest board, and the last song I listened to!

Tagging anyone who wants to share! ☺️

[caboosie]

I talked to a recruiter yesterday ❤️

[joelslegalwhre]

drunk confessions

word count // 2.056k

pairing // jake “hangman” seresin x f!bradshaw!reader

summary // You’ve had enough of hiding your relationship with Jake, so you drink yourself a little courage and just screw it

warnings // established relationship. (slightly)drunk!reader, mentions of alcohol, lightweight reader, nicknames for reader (bubbles, sweetheart, etc.), Bradley is in big brother mode, the mission I mentioned isn’t from the film, the pilots still live in their own apartments (all near the base) for this fic, soft!hangman (that man alone is a warning but him being soft???), affectionate Jake and a ton of fluff

a/n // This is the new version of "drunk confessions" from '22! I just changed the wording a little, but nothing of the plot has changed. I loved writing this two years ago and if anyone wants more Hangman, don't worry I have more to come because same haha Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers ❀

(as always, please tell me if I missed a warning)

Masterlist

You and Jake started dating almost a year ago when Bradley and him were together at Top Gun. 

Rooster and Hangman had never been the best of friends, everyone knew that, so it was never the right moment to tell him about the two of you. The risk of Bradley being angry or perhaps even disappointed was too big. At least that’s what you thought. 

Jake understood why you didn’t want anyone to know. And although he’d love to just scream it out into the world, that he was dating the younger Bradshaw, that he was without a doubt the luckiest man on fucking earth, he respected your decision. 

Jake knew that you’d do the same for him without a question.

You wanted to tell Bradley eventually, just right now wasn’t the right time. But the real question is, when was it really? 

Jake had a hard time keeping away from you whenever you were at the Hard Deck with the team. You mostly spent your time at the bar with Penny, to keep her company and to catch up with the latest news - often involving your godfather. 

She and Maverick were so obvious sometimes it made you chuckle, but you really hoped he wouldn’t let her down this time. But Amelia and you would ensure that. 

From your seat at the bar, you also had a perfect sight at the pool table. A lame excuse to stare at a certain blonde pilot all night. 

Jake would always be the first to voluntarily get a new round of beers for the group, and no one complained about it. They were all so caught up in what they were doing, that no one noticed how he eyed you all night, ready to be by your side in seconds if anyone were to bother you. 

-

“Hey Penny, sweetheart. Another round please!” he gave her a wink and shot her one of his handsome grins. Penny nodded with a smile in return and turned around to get seven cold beers for the young pilots. 

“You look smokin’ hot, baby.” he whispered to you as his bright eyes met yours. They had this glow in them every time he looked at you. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Seresin.” you teased him with a wink. 

“I can do way more than look good. Whatever you want, Bradshaw.” he grinned while his hand secretly found yours on the bartop, his broad frame shielding it from preying eyes. 

You chuckled lightly, “Oh really?”

“Oh yeah, babe. You better wait for me when everyone’s gone. I need to take ya home with me.” he flirted shamelessly in his southern accent you loved so much. Jake knew you’d do exactly that anyway, since you basically lived at his apartment at this point, but where would be the fun?

-

Not even Phoenix knew about the two of you, so you could say both Hangman and yourself did a rather good job. 

This time was different though. 

They were all going to meet up at the Hard Deck tonight, for another night of pool, darts and what not. The next mission was in less than a week, and you just wanted to spend as much time with Jake as possible. Just like he wanted to with you. 

Jake hated to keep his hands by himself when you were just a few feet away, playing darts with Fanboy or Bob. You never hid from them, after all, Rooster was your older brother. If you weren’t talking to Penny, you spent your nights with them, laughing, drinking and chatting. 

Not tonight… tonight would be different.

You met Penny at the bar in the late afternoon, to help her get everything ready before the first guests would come in. Amelia was staying at a friend’s house, so you gladly took over her part. 

When everything was ready for the Hard Deck to open, you sat down at your regula seat at the bar. 

Penny looked at you from the side while she turned on the lights underneath the bar. “Can I get you anything?” She asked, a hint of worry in her voice. 

“Can I get a beer?”

“Sure, sweetie.” Penny smiled gently. She put the bottle down in front of you, and you took a large sip. 

“So,“ Penny started, putting her hands on the bar, arms on each side of your beer. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart? You’ve been out of it today.“ You looked up at her, and she had this look on her face that gave you so much comfort. You knew you could tell her everything and she’d keep it safe. 

„I… I’ve been thinking about…„ Yeah, what exactly was it that you thought about ever since opening your eyes today? 

You didn’t even know. Not really. 

You thought about telling Bradley about your relationship with his rival, screwing everything. But you’ve also thought about keeping it to yourself just a little longer. The upcoming mission was creeping into your mind at every thought; What if they didn’t make it? You didn’t want to think about that more than just a second. Not about your brother nor Jake. 

He would come back, and he’ll be fine. This wasn’t his first mission.

“I don’t even know Penny, I’m so confused.” you sighed and let your head fall into your crossed arms. 

“You’ll figure it out, sweetheart. I know you will.” she said, caressing your hair. You lifted your head to look into her eyes, her kind smile calming your racing thoughts a little. 

Not enough, though. 

That night, you kind of ignored your limits of how much alcohol you could handle in one night. You got pretty much drunk. Not to a point where you could throw up or blackout, Penny was in charge of the bar after all, but the kind you’d be rewarded with a nice headache the next day and your mind to be pretty foggy. 

Drinking wasn’t one of your strengths. That’s why Jake liked to jokingly call you a lightweight, and he couldn’t be more accurate with it. 

You’ve been sitting at the bar for a good part of the night now. The team had already greeted you when they came in, asking you to come with them, but you declined, telling them you’d maybe join them later.

“Penny.” you tried to get her attention, a sudden certainty in your voice, “Please excuse me. I have to go and get some kisses now.“ 

“That’s his boyfriend duty,” you said with a confident nod. “You know, happy wife, happy life.” 

Penny had no idea how no one of the team could see the glances Hangman gave you. How he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you even if he tried. If anything happened, he’d be there in a heartbeat. And those poor guys who tried to flirt with you were quickly intimidated by his death stare. 

Penny just laughed. She had kept a close eye on you since your third drink of the night, the last two she gave you were non-alcoholic, but you didn’t have to know that. 

She ignored your choice of words at the saying, not changing ‚wife‘ to ‚girlfriend‘ with a chuckle and motioned you to go. “Go and tell Jake then.” You looked at her with wide eyes, “How did y‘know I’m talking about Jake?” 

Penny tilted her head with a smile, “Sweetheart, I notice things.” she winked, “Now go and get your man.” 

The next thing you knew, you were trying to your boyfriend at the pool table. 

“Hey, Jake!” 

His head snapped in your direction at the use of his first name. You were the only one calling him that. And the first name basis got everyone else’s attention as well. 

“Yeah?” he tried to not be too obvious. But his concern about how you were feeling was rising with every second. 

You didn‘t stop at the pool table, but walked up to him. Until you stood right in front of him. You looked up into his bright eyes, filled with curiosity.

“I need kisses.” you told him with a pout, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was so thrown off by what you were saying, that he almost forgot the others around him.

Jake unwrapped your arms from his neck and placed his hand on your lower back. “I think you need some water and sleep, bubbles.” he couldn‘t suppress the small grin that grew on his lips.

„Kisses?! What the fuck is-„ Rooster started but was quickly interrupted by you, “Oh for god’s sake shut up Bradley.” you hushed your brother in honest annoyance, turning to him. 

“I love you, but I’m sick and tired of hiding something from you that’s important to me, just because I’m scared of what you’ll think or do.”

Hangman’s gaze was a mix between shock and pride. That you just straight out told your brother and all of your friends standing around you, about the two of you. Not keeping it a secret anymore. He knew it took a toll on you, and he’d told you multiple times to just tell Bradley for your own sake.

“Oh my god” you heard Phoenix breath out a laugh, while the others couldn‘t find words, still shocked, while some of them were exchanging amused looks.

Bradley didn’t. He looked back and forth between you and Jake, not able to process it all quite yet.

„Sorry man, listen I-„ 

“Just give me a second, okay?” Rooster cut Hangman off, stomping to the bar. 

“Let him be,“ you said while curling yourself into his side, hugging his arm close to your body, “He’ll be fine by tomorrow, the old drama queen.” Sober-you would probably be scared Bradley would be angry or disappointed. 

Good thing you weren‘t sober right now. 

“Babe, how much did you have to drink?” Jake whispered, as he bent down a little until his lips reached your ear.

“Ohh, not that much.” you assured him as you tried to sound sober, looking up at his face, only inches away from yours.

He looked back to the bar, finding Penny’s gaze. She mouthed something like “water” easing Hangman’s concern about your drunken state.

“Let’s get you to bed, huh, sugar?” he softly smiled at you. A real smile, one he had reserved for only you. 

You instantly shook your head in disagreement, “I swear, I’m not-„ you yawned, “that tired.” 

“‘Course you aren't” he mockingly smiled down at you.

“C‘mon, on my back.” he ordered, putting his hands behind his back, ready to hold your legs for support. He bent down, and you tried your best to hop on his back. You wouldn’t win anyway, and sooner or later - you preferred later - he’d carry you out the bar. 

You rested your head on Jake’s shoulder and wrapped your hands around his body. Your eyes already closing as the exhaustion betrayed you.

“Wow, Hangman, nice one.” Coyote teased him, the others joining in with laughter. Who would’ve thought Hangman had a soft spot.

“Shut it, Coyote.” Jake said with a look that would make anyone run for the hills.

“See you tomorrow, lover boy!” Phoenix joked. 

You giggled on Jake’s shoulder, “That’s a good one!” you lazily turned your head in her direction and smirked, Phoenix and the others laughing back at you.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Jake complained, giving your ass a little smack.

“Hey.” you giggled, but did nothing in response. Your head ached a little, and you hadn‘t had the strength nor willpower to do so. Just relived to be carried, you let your head sink back on Jake’s shoulder. 

“I love you.” you whispered to Jake as he carefully sat you down on the passenger seat of his car. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes finding yours. Jake bent down to place a soft kiss on your lips and he smiled. 

The slight smell of alcohol was surrounding you, but Jake couldn’t care less. „I love you, and I’ll never let you go, that’s for sure. You’re all mine, baby.“ he whispered back between small kisses, giving you goosebumps. His scent surrounded you as you wrapped your hands around his neck to bring him even closer. “Good.” you grinned and pulled him into another, longer kiss.

Masterlist

[halorvic]

The danger is clear and present: COVID isn’t merely a respiratory illness; it’s a multi-dimensional threat impacting brain function, attacking almost all of the body’s organs, producing elevated risks of all kinds, and weakening our ability to fight off other diseases. Reinfections are thought to produce cumulative risks, and Long COVID is on the rise. Unfortunately, Long COVID is now being considered a long-term chronic illness — something many people will never fully recover from. Dr. Phillip Alvelda, a former program manager in DARPA’s Biological Technologies Office that pioneered the synthetic biology industry and the development of mRNA vaccine technology, is the founder of Medio Labs, a COVID diagnostic testing company. He has stepped forward as a strong critic of government COVID management, accusing health agencies of inadequacy and even deception. Alvelda is pushing for accountability and immediate action to tackle Long COVID and fend off future pandemics with stronger public health strategies. Contrary to public belief, he warns, COVID is not like the flu. New variants evolve much faster, making annual shots inadequate. He believes that if things continue as they are, with new COVID variants emerging and reinfections happening rapidly, the majority of Americans may eventually grapple with some form of Long COVID. Let’s repeat that: At the current rate of infection, most Americans may get Long COVID.

[...]

LP: A recent JAMA study found that US adults with Long COVID are more prone to depression and anxiety – and they’re struggling to afford treatment. Given the virus’s impact on the brain, I guess the link to mental health issues isn’t surprising. PA: There are all kinds of weird things going on that could be related to COVID’s cognitive effects. I’ll give you an example. We’ve noticed since the start of the pandemic that accidents are increasing. A report published by TRIP, a transportation research nonprofit, found that traffic fatalities in California increased by 22% from 2019 to 2022. They also found the likelihood of being killed in a traffic crash increased by 28% over that period. Other data, like studies from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, came to similar conclusions, reporting that traffic fatalities hit a 16-year high across the country in 2021. The TRIP report also looked at traffic fatalities on a national level and found that traffic fatalities increased by 19%. LP: What role might COVID play? PA: Research points to the various ways COVID attacks the brain. Some people who have been infected have suffered motor control damage, and that could be a factor in car crashes. News is beginning to emerge about other ways COVID impacts driving. For example, in Ireland, a driver’s COVID-related brain fog was linked to a crash that killed an elderly couple. Damage from COVID could be affecting people who are flying our planes, too. We’ve had pilots that had to quit because they couldn’t control the airplanes anymore. We know that medical events among U.S. military pilots were shown to have risen over 1,700% from 2019 to 2022, which the Pentagon attributes to the virus.

[...]

LP: You’ve criticized the track record of the CDC and the WHO – particularly their stubborn denial that COVID is airborne. PA: They knew the dangers of airborne transmission but refused to admit it for too long. They were warned repeatedly by scientists who studied aerosols. They instituted protections for themselves and for their kids against airborne transmission, but they didn’t tell the rest of us to do that.

[...]

LP: How would you grade Biden on how he’s handled the pandemic? PA: I’d give him an F. In some ways, he fails worse than Trump because more people have actually died from COVID on his watch than on Trump’s, though blame has to be shared with Republican governors and legislators who picked ideological fights opposing things like responsible masking, testing, vaccination, and ventilation improvements for partisan reasons. Biden’s administration has continued to promote the false idea that the vaccine is all that is needed, perpetuating the notion that the pandemic is over and you don’t need to do anything about it. Biden stopped the funding for surveillance and he stopped the funding for renewing vaccine advancement research. Trump allowed 400,000 people to die unnecessarily. The Biden administration policies have allowed more than 800,000 to 900,000 and counting.

[...]

LP: The situation with bird flu is certainly getting more concerning with the CDC confirming that a third person in the U.S. has tested positive after being exposed to infected cows. PA: Unfortunately, we’re repeating many of the same mistakes because we now know that the bird flu has made the jump to several species. The most important one now, of course, is the dairy cows. The dairy farmers have been refusing to let the government come in and inspect and test the cows. A team from Ohio State tested milk from a supermarket and found that 50% of the milk they tested was positive for bird flu viral particles.

[...]

PA: There’s a serious risk now in allowing the virus to freely evolve within the cow population. Each cow acts as a breeding ground for countless genetic mutations, potentially leading to strains capable of jumping to other species. If any of those countless genetic experiments within each cow prove successful in developing a strain transmissible to humans, we could face another pandemic – only this one could have a 58% death rate. Did you see the movie “Contagion?” It was remarkably accurate in its apocalyptic nature. And that virus only had a 20% death rate. If the bird flu makes the jump to human-to-human transition with even half of its current lethality, that would be disastrous.

[gremlins-hotel]

From the notes of Capt. Alfred Jones: "Davie was a bus and the 'Flying Fortress' moniker seemed to pass her by, but it was a ship with a brave crew. The trudge of getting back to England from enemy territory is a story for another day. I miss her and sometimes I miss the boys we lost that day."

-✪- -✪- -✪-

B-17F "Dear Davie": *U.S. Army Model B-17F-65-BO Air Corps Serial No. 42-29670 Delivered Cheyenne 31/1/43; Pueblo 18/2/43; Salina 15/2/43; Brookley 19/3/43; Smoky Hill 23/3/43; Dow Field 18/4/43. Assigned to the 333rd Bomb Squadron/94th Bomb Group [TS-L] "DEAR DAVIE" 22/4/43; Missing in Action near Hamburg 25/7/43 with Alfred "Comet" Jones, **Co-Pilot: Daryl "Speed" Reed, Navigator: Richard Reed, Bombardier: Charlie Marstaller; Radio Operator: Johnathan Graves, Flight Engineer/Top Turret Gunner: Clyde "Pepsi" Ray, Ball Turret Gunner: William Ortlieb, Waist Gunner: Leslie Lipsey, Waist Gunner: Paul Rapoport, Tail Gunner: Thomas Pugh (6 Killed in Action); "DEAR DAVIE" lost to flak/anti-aircraft fire, crashing near Uetersen, 15 miles NW of Hamburg, Germany.

-✪- -✪- -✪-

[nerd things & acknowledgements below cut]

Notes on the B-17F... The B-17F was an upgrade of the previous E model, with several notable changes: A one- or two-piece plexiglas nose cone, as opposed to the ten-paneled cone of previous versions. Reinforced landing gear allowed for a greater maximum payload, from 4,200 lb (1,900 kg) of ordnance to 8,000 lb (3,600 kg). Flight and combat range of the F model was improved by 900 mi (1,400 km) with the addition of nine self-sealing rubber fuel cells in the wing root, aka, "Tokyo tanks". The F model was generally characterized by being tail-heavy - which lead to part failure - and woefully undefended from the front; the early F models had no front-facing armament, leaving a 60° blind spot to the direct front of the aircraft - a flaw which was exploited by German pilots, who held air superiority. Later F models would see a list of possible available modifications (factory and field) such as inserting two .50 caliber machine guns into the nose cone to solve the blind spot. Other modifications to later F models were bulged cheek turrets, as opposed to the window-mounted guns of earlier iterations, and the available addition of the iconic "Bendix" chin turret. The chin turret is far more common on the subsequent G "gunship" variant. ("Dear Davie" is an early F model without the nose mount, bulged cheeks, or chin turret.)

*This model production block, serial no., and fate are borrowed from real-life B-17F #42-29670, "Thundermug." "Thundermug" was an aircraft that originally served in the 333rd Bomb Squadron/94th Bomb Group alongside my great-grandfather and his usual steed, "The Gremlins Hotel." It was transferred to the 544th BS/384th BG, at which point it went Missing in Action over Hamburg from flak/aa-fire; 8 of its crew became POWs while 2 were KIA. I have had the honor to speak to descendants of both of its crews and help them research "Thundermug"; I wish to voice a mere glimpse of their stories in a unique way.

**All names of Alfred's crew are either cobbled-together family names throughout our history here or entirely fictitious - though some were inspired by real people whom I grew up with stories of. All inspirations were individuals that lived good lives post-war.

[pilot4008]

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F22Raptor #Kampfjet #Luftfahrt #Pilot #Militärflugzeug #Handyhülle #Luftwaffe #Jet #Flugzeugliebhaber #Flugzeug

F-22 Raptor intercepting a Russian Tu-95 Bear

[wickedwanchii]

Happy late birthday to the world's favorite Lieutenant Colonel, Alfred F. Jones ✨️

Here he is sporting his brand new P-47d, the Darin' Dallas, ready to take to the skies and show the world what all an Ace can really do! You can find him flying with the rest of them boys in the 317th, so be sure to give him a kiss when you see him next, for extra good luck!

Extra nerd stuffs below the cut

Alfred can be seen here standing atop a P-47d, AKA a Razorback. This is a sturdy escort fighter and a low-level bomber, notorious for being able to sustain some serious damage and remain flying. Alfred flew two P-47s during his piloting career, with this being the second known as the Darin' Dallas (fictional ID 42-25824). While this plane met a kinder fate than it's predecessor, the Desert Dandy, it saw a small but distinguished portion of its time in service under the capable hands of LTC Jones as he flew with the 317th Fighter Squadron.

Jones flew the Darin' Dallas from December 42-September 43, where it was withdrawn from service as the Squadron transitioned from using mostly P-47s to P-51s, which was when he went on to fly his finest set of wings yet- The Franklin Express. The Darin' Dallas continued in service after leaving the 317th, where it saw continued action in the Pacific Theatre until 1945, and then remained in service with Air National Guard until it was fully retired in 1948.

The Darin' Dallas is a P-47D-23-RA, a variation of the 22-RE from the Evansville Plant, and was one of 889 planes of that variant type built at that location. This is one of the last production blocks before the plants began producing the Bubbletop D-variants, which was a switch done to improve rearward visibility. One of the most common complaints from pilots flying the Razelorbacks was limited visibility towards the aft of the plane, as the design restricted the view since the entire back portion of the cockpit was constructed of metal with glass panels inlaid. When the switch to the bubbletop was made, this replaced the metal with a full glass "bubble," effectively increasing cockpit visibility to cover the entirety of the plane.

[nocternalrandomness]

"Mount Up"

[oceansssblue]

100 celebration — PROMPT 22 = FORCED TO SHARE HEAT/ONE BED.

PAIRING: WRECKER/F READER

WARNINGS: FREEZING TEMPERATURES, SUGESTIVE&MENTIONS OF WRECKERS BIG BOY BUT NO PROPER SEX SCENE (IMPLICIT AT THE END), PURE FLUFF 💖🔥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Fucking pirates".

Your low, grumpy mutter echoes in the Starfall; your body slumping down on the pilot's seat like a toy whose battery has finally ran out. A deep sigh of relief follows your closed eyes; stress and adrenaline slowly disolving inside of you. You can still feel your heartbeat pounding inside your chest. This has been too close to death to your liking; and even with Wrecker at the gunship, the Starfall has not escaped unfased.

You let yourself breathe for five too short seconds before you're jumping out of the chair to run a check on the ship's system; brow inmediately frowning at the flickering lights and the myriad of warning signs fighting for your attention.

"How bad is it?" The thump of Wrecker's steps are tired and heavy as he climbs up from the gunship, voice echoing against the walls of the Starfall as well.

You take a glance at his worried face –the scars pulling at his skin– and study the system again. You inmediately start to tincker with your ship –you know it like the palm of your hand by now–; redirecting energy and efforts where it's most needed.

"We'be been badly hit. We can't jump into hiperspace as it is" you explain, humming distractedly while you continue to work on your ship. The light's stop flickering, turned off by now, and another set of softer ones replace them. You give him the bad news, voice full of dissapointment and resignment. "It'll take us two extra weeks to get back to Pabu. Apart from that, our main worry is gonna' be the cold. I've set the emergency heat reserve on, but it'll probably only last us a day or two".

Wrecker shrugs and grins. He had almost expected to hear that they had one engine less or a wing of the ship had been completely shut down; more time alone with you and a bit of cold isn't going to kill him. Hell, the worst part of this situation is probably how worried Hunter will be; and the cost of the repairs needed.

"Are coms still available?" He asks, hopeful.

You nod tiredly; at least you can give him that...

Wrecker smiles and pats your shoulder comfortingly.

"Then we'll let them know what happened with those pirates and we'll take this as a small vacation break" he suggests, and even if you're exhausted and frustrated, it's impossible to stay grumpy around him for too long

At least you're stranded with Wrecker and not Crosshair, you say to yourself. Wrecker is a very easy-going person; and his positivity may make this delay feel less catastrophic than it is. You can't imagine how irritating two weeks of listening to the sharpshooter's dry sarcasm and complaints would be. He'd probably blame you for not navigating your ship good enough; even though everyone knows your piloting skills with the Starlight have no one to envy.

Well, there's nothing you can really do now. You'll try not to fret and follow your friend's advice.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The first night the temperature starts to drop, but the cold is managable and only really noticed after a sneeze or two and the need to throw an extra blanket on top of your current ones. On the second, the cold hits hard; your body shivering and trembling unconsciously throughout the night and making it impossible to sleep for more than a pair of hours straight without waking up. It starts to get dangerous on the third night; fingers hurting in small pin pricks of pain and muscles and joints loudly complaining with each move.

It's in the middle of that fitfull night when something carefully dropping on top of you makes you groggily blink awake. You try to scan your room in the darkness of the Starlight, barely making sense of Wrecker's figure there.

"Mm?" You manage to mumble half asleep.

"Sh... Go back to sleep, mesh'la. Just checking on you" Wrecker's soft voice inmediately answers back.

You're so exhausted you fall back to unconsciousness almost inmediately; your body relaxing in relief at the sudden extra warmth.

In the morning when you wake up again and find two extra blankets on top of you, you quickly understand the small interruption of the night. You push them aside in order to stand up; but the cold inmediately bites back, and you decide to pad over to Wrecker's small room in front of yours with two of them wrapped around you.

When you peak your head inside and see him trembling in his sleep without any blankets on, your heart clenches in gratefullness and affection. A bit worried too, you touch his forehead gently to check on his temperature; Wrecker inmediately groaning and catching your hand in his while he blinks awake.

"Your hand feels like an ice cube" he mumbles, and you apologise inmediately, taking it back.

"Wreck..." you sigh with a small grateful smile. "You shouldn't have given me all your blankets. You're cold too".

Wrecker yawns and pulls his body up in a sitting form. He rubs his face and then his neck and the top of his shoulders with his hand before focusing on answering you.

"Mm. I have my thermoregulator blacks on, and I always run warmer than you anyways" he explains gently. "You were unconsciously whimpering in your sleep from how cold you were, mesh'la. I couldn't go back to sleep after hearing you suffer like that".

"Thank you" you say, and you really mean it. Wrecker's one of the most selfless persons you've gotten to know. "You know... We could sleep in the same cot. It'll be a tight fit for sure, but we could share all the blankets together. That way we'll both stay warm".

While your voice is completely casual and unbothered, Wrecker's facial expression fills with genuine surprise.

"Oh... If you're good with that, mesh'la" he seems a bit hesitant, perhaps not wanting to invade your space or privacy, so you smile soothingly.

"I'll get us some nutribars to eat. Let's just try it out tonight, alright? If it doesn't work we can go back to how we were" You suggest, and Wrecker nods distractedly.

His eyes don't leave your retreating figure til you dissapear in the direction of the cockpit.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After a day of both interesting and just-to-kill-time conversations pass by, the night starts fairly well for the both of you. You're not really cuddling together at first; just laying on your sides and doing your best at fitting together in the same bed, trying to respect each others spaces as much as you can. Your natural body heats are enough to make the temperature under the four piled blankets warm enough; and for the first time in three days, you go to sleep without a single mind curse against the cold around you.

The kriffing cold doesn't take a respite, though; and perhaps because your body is no longer moving your temperature drops a few hours after and you wake up trembling again, swallowing your groans of dissapointment at the no longer functionating idea. Wrecker doesn't seem to hold the same problem; you can practically feel his body heat besides you.

You don't really think it through before you're slowly and quietly pressing closer to him; freezing toes trying to find a warmer spot below his legs.

Wrecker makes a small pained rumble with his throat, and you stop on your mission, glancing up at his sleepy face. He doesn't bother to open his eyes, though you know you've woken him up from his slumber. You fill a tiny bit guilty.

"Sorry" you whisper quietly. "Can I?"

Wrecker hums in reluctant acceptance, and one of his big hands plops down on your back, hugging you towards him with a mumble under his breath you can't even descipher even if you strain your hearing.

You shrug it off and enjoy the warmth of his body with a pleasant sigh, toes finding their perfect home under his body and hands being tucked in between your chests. You can feel Wrecker's deep sleepy breathing in front of your face. You're tempted to stay awake for just a pair of minutes if just to watch him in this relaxed state –one you've never really seing him in–; but you're so comfortable and tired you follow him into dreamland in a matter of seconds and you barely move an inch until late in the morning.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

On night number five, you take the liberty of directly cuddling against him; hiding your cold nose in his neck and hugging him gently under the blankets.

"Mm" you mumble with your lips almost pressed to his skin. "This is great".

Wrecker chuckles and his hand tightens on you involuntarily.

"Yeah... Ur' so small. Fit like the perfect teddybear".

You grin and nuzzle against him. He's so big and warm, and such a good person... You've always felt safe around him.

"Mm, so I'm Lula's replacement now?" You joke around, and Wrecker's chest moves once again with his low chuckles.

"Only til I get back to her" he follows your joke, smiling in the near- darkness of the room.

You both chat for a bit til you start doing a competetion of yawns and you decide to call it a day; falling asleep with a smile pressed against his neck. This is starting to feel like a vacation, yeah.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A week after your unfortunate encounter with the pirates, movement wakes you up in the middle of the night. There's no day and night in space, really; but the lights on the Starfall are designed to dim with the hours until they completely turn off, so it helps you to keep track of the days that pass by.

You start making sense of your surroundings as your mind slowly drifts back to counsciousness. For once you're incredibly warm, and it pulls a satisfied smile upon your face. You stretch slowly, lazily. Wrecker mumbles behind you; pressing his body firmly against you. The movement pushes you forward slightly, not too far away because of the tight grip he has on your hip; and you inmediately understand –and feel– what exactly has woken you up, blushing in flustered embarassment. Wrecker's erection is iron hard –and so big, fuck– against your ass; his own hips slowly thrusting back and forward periodically.

You call him in a mortified rasp.

"Wrecker..." he doesn't react at all, so you clear your voice and call him more firmly, squeezing his forearm, voice loud now in the silence of the ship. "Wrecker, wake up".

The clone stirrs with a confused, disorientated hum.

"Mm? Whats'up?" He grumbles, breathing pattern changing and body finally stilling with his return to consciousness.

"Wrecker, you've been... You are..." you try to say, your cheeks on fire, and he suddenly processes the situation he finds his own body in upon openning his eyes.

He's aroused, and his erection is firmly nestled against your ass. He vaguely remembers himself moving while he dreamed of...

He inmediately backs off with a curse, back pressing against the cold wall behind his bunk.

"Kark, I'm sorry!" Maker, this is so fucking embarassing. He wishes the ground could just swallow him. "I-I didn't mean to... I was dreaming and..."

He tries to justify himself, cringing at how he's not really fixing the situation much. He suddenly grows a bit worried and anxious. He holds so much respect for you... What if you just lose it for him, what if you now see him as someone who'd take advantage of a situation like this, of you being asleep? Luckily for him, you don't seem to take it as an offense or anything of the sort; just looking as mortified as he is.

You try not to picture what he could be dreaming of and ignore your own warmth bubbling inside of you; turning around to face him in understanding.

"S'alright, Wrecker" you soothe his worries. "We all have one of those from time to time, nothing to be ashamed of. We're just happening to share a bed in a bad time for that".

You chuckle nervously, and Wrecker feels partially relieved.

"Maybe we can just cuddle the other way?" You carefully suggest. "Or do you want to..."

You let the ending of the sentence fall on him, and Wrecker inmediately shakes his head.

"I'm not going to rub one out in the bathroom" he winces at how crude the words sound coming out of his mouth, but he really doesn't want you to think worse of him.

Hell, this is uncomfortable as it is right now; he can't imagine how it would feel if he dissapeared for some minutes in the sonic before returning and joining you in bed again.

You try to ignore the situation and act unbothered. It's the best way to dissolve this awkwardness. It's not his fault, really. You're feeling a bit aroused yourself now, inevitably.

"Okay, turn around then" you encourage him with a grin. "I'll be the big spoon for once".

Wrecker sighs and gives you an unsure smile.

" 'Kay" he whispers, moving to face the wall and showing his back to you. "Jus' hit me if I make you uncomfortable, please".

You laugh quietly and settle on your side behind him.

"Noted" you whisper cheekily, and to your own surprise, you spontaneously gift his left shoulderblade with a quick affectionate peck.

Wrecker hums almost as a way of saying "thanks"; and you're left awake with a million thoughts and questions in your head.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It happens a few more times along the week –sometimes in the middle of the night, sometimes in the early hours of the morning–; til the point you both develop a kind of rutine out of it. You nudge him and gently push him away as he lingers between reality and sleep; both of you re-arranging your positions in the bunk quietly before losing yourselves to dreamland again. If it's in the morning you just stand up and check the Starlights' curse in the cockpit, update Hunter; while he stays alone in bed until he appears through the corridor with a tiny guilty smile on his scarred face.

"We'll be arriving Pabu tomorrow" you announce finally one day, shooting him a grin. "Not having to share a tiny bed with me much longer, Wreck. You're gonna' have your Lula back".

He gives you a hesitant smile. You don't know if you're seeing things after the recent sudden realisation of your own feelings or if he is indeed dissapointed by this.

That night when you cuddle in bed your grip on him is a little bit tighter than usual. You'll miss this.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hunter is inmediately relieved upon your arrival on Pabu. Omega, already recovered from her injury –the main reason why they had stayed back this time– runs to greet you; and you chat with her while you answer all of her questions about your encounter with the pirates. Tech greets you politely and inmediately asks permision to take a look at your ship; and you don't think it twice before giving him full access to the Starlight. You know he must have enjoyed a bit of de-stress time with Phee; but also miss putting his incredible mind to the test. You'll let him entertain himself.

After two weeks without natural light and a permanent scenery, Pabu looks prettier than ever with it's colourful sunsets and the beauty of the sea. It'll be great to eat something other than nutribars as well.

That night, though, when you lay down on your bed in the bedroom you share with Omega, you can't help but feel a bit lonely. You're surprised at how incredibly quickly you've goten used to Wrecker's sleeping presence beside you; at how much you wish he were still here.

When at breakfeast he asks you if you slept well, and lightly comments on how good you probably feel with your big bed back, you hesitantly push the truth out there with the slightest bit of humour. You're not sure if he really likes you or if all of his reactions these past few days have been a result of needed closeness, and there's nothing more to look in there. You don't handle rejection well, you don't like feeling vulnerable; so you'll joke around it for now til you're sure of it.

"I don't know, Wreck. You make a good pillow" you smile at him, and Wrecker answers with his own personal grin.

Un-noticed by the two of you and having his breakfeast in silence, hip pressed against the kitchen counter and bandana abandoned in his nightstand for once, Hunter studies you in quiet surprise.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

That night when you're unable to fall asleep again, mind always spinning in the direction of the man sleeping in the adyacent room, you make up your resolve and quietly pad to Wrecker's door. You open it as carefully as possible; scanning his sleeping form while nervously biting your lip. He's awake, thankfully; taking a glance at the door sleepily to see who it is.

"Hi" you whisper, adding in a shy, unsure tone. "I'm cold. Can I..."

You're beginning to think this was not a good idea. It's definitively not that cold. There's no excuse anymore, and maybe you've read it all wrong and...

Wrecker opens the single blanket to the side and makes a lazy gesture for you.

"C'mere" he answers, interrupting your spiral of thoughts, and making you sigh in relief.

You climb in bed with him and melt onto his welcoming hug.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Every night after that one, once Omega falls asleep, you quietly move to Wrecker's room; the clone always inmediately making the space for you to lay with him. He doesn't ask, and you no longer explain; both of you tip-toing around your growing feelings, just a tiny bit hesitant to take the final step.

Summer starts to arrive in Pabu. First you both abandon the warm blanket; then the bedsheet, and finally swith to short-sleeved pijamas. You're a bit wary and nervous about the lack of an excuse; but Wrecker chuckles and softly tells you that you can go cuddle with him even when you're not cold. You give him a happy smile and your lips slowly press against his cheek; Wrecker blushes, and you grin. Everyone notices the slow progressive development between the two of you; the rest of the Batch arching eyebrows and glancing at each other while they try to remain patient in their expectancy.

The next lazy morning, when you wake up spooning and feel his erection again, you bite your lip and squirm involuntarily. Wrecker wakes up with the shuffle –not jumping away anymore at the realisement–; and mumbles a sleepy "sorry" before moving to turn around to face the other side of the bed.

You're quicker than him. You feel your body burning in affection and heat. You grab his hand so that he stays as he is; and turn around to look at him. You finally sigh and give in.

The kiss is slow, sweet and soft; yet deep and heartfelt. Wrecker makes a tiny surprised sound with his throat before he's completely melting in the bed; hesitantly resting his right hand on your hips and gently tugging you towards him. You hum in delight and welcome him; one leg going over his own hips so you can press your bodies closer together, feel him against you. You kiss him more intently, heart beating furiously inside your chest and impatience growing; Wrecker's hand finally cupping your ass and pulling a small pleased moan that makes him groan as well.

You take a moment to breathe and bite your lip. Wrecker makes another low sound with his throat; glancing at them before looking at you in the eyes.

"Not fair for you to be this sexy this early, mesh'la" he whispers in a raspy voice.

Your cheeks flush, but you smile suggestively and caress his scarred cheek affectionately.

"I can show you sexier if you wanna' " you whisper back at him.

Wrecker's big hands gently squeeze your ass before he's pulling you on top of him in a smooth movement. His smile is radiant while they travel upwards to caress your back.

"Oh, I wanna' " he chuckles, joining your lips together again inmediately, and you grin into the kiss.

I'll have to thank those pirates for this, you think, some minutes later, while you lose yourself into the bliss.

THE END.

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Here we have the first prompt of the 100 celebration! Hope y'all liked it. 9 more to go!

Xx,

Blue.

PS. You'll be able to find all my other prompts under the tag "100blueprompt" or in this list as I publish them (I recommend saving the following link and check it from time to time):

Or You can also let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any/all.

In the mean time you've got a lot of other stories in my sw masterlist!

<3

[usafphantom2]

22 November 1952. First flight of the first production F-84F-1-RE Thunderstreak, 51-1346 at Farmingdale, Long Island, New York. Flown by Republic Aviation Corporation test pilot Russell Morgan (“Rusty”) Roth.

@ron_eisele via X

[thatsrightice]

F-14 TOMCAT ISSUES AND ACCIDENTS

The following is a compilation of issues with the F-14 Tomcat that have been encountered by pilots throughout its lifespan due to both mechanical and other reasons. Some are based on individual accidents and some cover epidemics in which many aircraft were lost to the issue *cough* compressor stalls *cough* basically it’s a bunch of ways you can hurt your fav characters in your fics so if you write something pls let me know cause I want to read it!!!

The issues range from minor hydraulic leaks to an explosion where pilots survive but the aircraft is literally in a million pieces.

LAST UPDATED 10/25/2023

Added some links to relavant FFFOTDs

Side note, the F-14 was a frickin massive tank of a fighter jet. She has taken damage to major components and still been able to land safely, so every situation is pretty unique.

Water Damage- Any type of water intrusion would cause issues with the electrical systems. It was a very common thing, so much so that they would have to duct tape anywhere water might be able to enter as a precaution when they knew it would rain.

Hydraulic Fluid Leaks - The F-14 did leak hydraulic fuel fairly often. There was a joke going around that if there isn't a bucket leaking hydraulic fluid underneath the plane then you are out of hydraulic fluid.

The Staple - On F-14 As and Bs, they would limit the jet to 4Gs maximum for three months and then they would install a metal staple to the bottom of the aircraft just forward of the tail hook. The point of the staple was to prevent severe bulkhead cracks and fuselage delamination by reducing the torquing moments caused by material fatigue. The staple is described as being a 1 foot-long and 1 inch wide solid steel part that looks exactly like a staple. As a part of their pre-flight checks, pilots would have to hang on it to ensure it wouldn’t fall out.

Airbags - Now and then, the airbags would rip and they would have to fix them.

Hydraulic Failures - Hydraulic failures happened somewhat often, but not often enough to be a prevalent issue. Generally speaking, it was common knowledge that if an F-14 wasn't leaking hydraulic fluid then it was out of hydraulic fluid. They would place buckets underneath to catch the liquid when the aircraft was not flying.

An incident from 1988 resulted from a complete hydraulic failure of both the main and the backup systems. They ruled the accident to be caused by the combination of failure of a relief valve and material failure. The Commander of the Pacific Fleet at the time believed that it could have possibly been the result of entrapped air that had been introduced into the hydraulic system through minor system maintenance.

AICS Programmers - They would have to start the airplane and then run the intake ramps aka would have to cycle the intake ramps otherwise they wouldn't be able to get off the ground.

Flap-Slat Lockout - If the flaps on either side of the jet didn't program at the same rate, it would cut it out and lock them up. They were then unable to move them as the lockout was a precaution to prevent asymmetry. This forced pilots to land without flaps, requiring an extra 22 knots during landing. It was difficult to land when they were locked out, and in many situations the end result would be pulling up next to the carrier and ejecting. Flap-Slat Lockout was a consistent issue throughout the Tomcat's life.

Unreliable Fire Warning Light - Sometimes the fire warning light would just barely start to flicker on and steadily become more prominent. Overall "just a bad system." You never actually know if there's a fire or not.

Wings Won’t Come Out - This happened at NAS Oceana. The airplane landed at a speed of 230 mph, so very close to the F-14’s stall speed. When the wings are stuck back, you can't hit the brakes during landing because there is no anti-skid and you would overheat them, if you pulled the stick back you would rotate, and with the wings back you have no spoilers so there is nothing to slow you down. In this particular incident, the pilot was able to take the long landing, but if this issue was encountered at sea it would require an ejection or divert to an airfield nearby if possible. No big explosions or fires though, it’d be a fairly calm procedure and the plane could fly into range of the ship for easy retrieval after ejection.

Low Fuel (Barricade Landing) - Bad weather at night combined with air traffic personnel being too occupied with diverting tons of airplanes, launching tankers, etc. can cause an aircraft to get low on fuel. There was a situation covered in the F-14 Tomcast episode called "F-14 Barricade" where they were unable to refuel using a tanker and were forced to do a barricade landing for their safety. They were almost forced to pull up alongside the carrier and eject. After the landing, one of the crew calculated based on the amount of fuel left that they only had about 90 seconds of flying left. This is literally the only night F-14 barricade landing ever I am pretty sure (in real life Maverick's doesn't count lol). I like it because the pilot and RIO had to tell the aircrew straight up "You have to take us now" because the pilot could no longer see the tape on the fuel gage. The crew tells their story really well and it’s really funny to listen to, especially considering the fact that they had to keep sending them around because they fucked up setting up the barrier.

Hitting the Canopy (During Ejection) - Goose's story is based on a real story in which a RIO hit the canopy during ejection and broke his spine. The reason the pilot does not also hit the canopy is because the ejection sends the RIO out first. The canopy is ejected after a couple of seconds after the handle is pulled, then the RIO is ejected after a second or two, and then the pilot another second later. The ejection seats also launch them in different trajectories so the pilot and the RIO do not collide in the air, meaning they may or may not end up in the same area. The solution would be to wait for the canopy to clear before ejecting but sometimes your don’t have that luxury.

Front Landing Gear Failure During Takeoff- While launching off of the catapult of the aircraft carrier, the nose gear attached to the shuttle broke. The landing gear and shuttle proceeded to the end of the runway without the jet, hitting the end of the ship at 305 knots and damaging the front of the carrier. The jet went off the ship with far less speed than necessary (at barely 60-70 knots) and began falling into the water as it was not enough to get the Tomcat in the air. They ejected to barely 50 feet high and were in serious danger of getting run over by the aircraft carrier. In the accident covered on the Fighter Pilot Podcast FPP004 - Ejection Seats, the RIO tells the story of his survival and the tragic loss of the pilot.

Radome (Nose Cone) Detachment - An F-14 Tomcat lost its radome during a flight due to the failure of the latching mechanism. The radome crashed into the canopy, shattering te glass of the windscreen. The pilot could only see out of a 3 inch hole in the windscreen due to the cracked windshield. He couldn't hear anything due to the noise of the wind in the cockpit, so he was unsure of the state of his RIO but assumed he was unconscious because he hadn't ejected them. The pilot flew over the carrier three times before successfully landing the plane, despite having glass in both eyes and a broken collarbone. It turns out that the RIO had been completely unharmed but with comms down he was unable to tell the pilot such. Upon landing the plane, the pilot was medevaced for eye surgery and then returned to the US.

Midair Collision - F-14A BUNo 159832 was a midair collision between two F-14 Tomcat. In this particular situation, one of the airplanes was able to divert to a nearby airport due to losing part of the right wing whereas the other crew was forced to eject. Obviously you could probably picture a situation where both jets went down.

Landng with Damage - Tomcats are a very sturdy aircraft, often described as being a tank both due to how much fuel they were able to carry and the sheer size of the aircraft. There has been an incident where an F-14 landed without one of its vertical stabilizers. In the Radome Deatchment section, the pilot was able to land the plane. The following video shows an aircraft, although not an F-14, landing aboard an aircraft carrier with significant damage on its right right side.

Single Engine Cat Shot- There was an incident where an aircraft had engine issues the moment it left the carrier. Immediately after the launch, they lost the left engine, and the first thing the pilot did was go through engine failure procedures, wingman at their side. They set up for an engine start using normal air before they attempted a cross-bleed air start using bleed air from the right engine to rotate the starter in the left engine, but neither worked. The pilot addressed the fuel distribution situation by feeding the right engine with fuel from the left to even them out and then they began dumping fuel to get to the "max trap" weight. Upon successfully landing, the Commanding Officer initially believed that the pilot had allowed the left engine throttle to roll back to idle during the acceleration of the catapult stroke, however, after maintenance personnel spun up the engine to troubleshoot, the engine spun well past its normal rpm immediately without the mechanical load it usually carried by the tower shaft meaning that something was very, very wrong. An image of the aircraft after launch can be seen below. Note the singular engine lit up.

F110 Afterburner Failure - The new engines installed were great, but they initially had a problem with the afterburner. In one recorded accident, the pilot lit the afterburner, damaging the afterburner can's lining and leading to an explosion. The Navy prohibited use of the afterburner below 10,000 ft on the F-14+/B/D until the problem could get solved but it took nearly a year to remedy.

"Thump Bang" - The easiest way to incorporate any sort of accident is to call it what the Naval Aviators call a "thump bang". A "thump bang" refers to a series of events that occur when an aircraft experiences some sort of issue they described as a "thump" and then an explosion. It's kind of hard to describe what is like in the cockpit during this sort of accident as it could have happened quickly or could have been a delayed explosion, and it could have been caused by any number of reasons. If they don't know what actually happened, they'll call it a "thump bang" and can only hypothesize what occurred. The likely scenario would have been an issue with the TF30 engines.

TF30 - The "Turd in the punch bowl, " the TF30s had two specific issues that were kind of intertwined.

Throwing Fan Blades - One of the largest issues with the TF30s was that they were with the fan blades. When the fan blades become eroded or damaged over time, they no longer compress the airflow efficiently, potentially leading to an engine stall (see Compressor Stall below). Additionally, the TF30 was known for "throwing" fan blades. This is when the fan blade becomes detached and is shot out to the side into the interior of the aircraft. Not good. Pretty bad actually. They didn't initially know they were throwing fan blades until after a couple of accidents. when they started to be more common they would retrieve the aircraft from the water (if in large enough pieces and then investigate the cause.

Compressor Stall - The actual biggest issue with the F-14 Tomcat and its TF30 engines is the compressor stalling. They literally happened all the time from a variety of different causes. Generally speaking, the compressor stalls were the result of disruption to the airflow into the compressor of the engine. The compressor has fan blades that require the airflow to be undisturbed for maximum efficiency. It was theorized to be the result of foreign object debris (FOD) ingestion into the engines. They check religiously for loose objects on the airplanes as a result, oftentimes having a crew member dive into the intake ducts to check for loose bolts. Additionally, compressor stalls could be caused by operating the aircraft outside of its limits, improper handling, etc.

The F-14 had a gated afterburner, meaning it had 5 “gates” inside of the afterburner and each one lit up a flame rack. There was no variable thrust, so it had to be either on or off. Each of the five racks was labeled as a zone. Zone 3 is what they were allowed to take off with. Coming in or out of afterburner with any angle or attack would cause the compressor to immediately stall. This was mostly due to poor design of the intake.

In general, approximately 30% of F-14A losses were attributed to high-altitude compressor stalls. When one engine stalls, more often than not it will induce the other engine to stall as well. There is a procedure to counteract the compressor stall, the specific protocol was to ease the amount of Gs, slow down, the T.I.T. would go crazy and you shut it down. Or in fighter pilot slang, “ease, slow cook it, shut it down.”

One incident in particular that was assumed to be caused by engine failure resulted in an explosion that looked so bad it was a miracle the pilot and RIO survived (see image below). The pilot escaped with minor burns to his hands, face, and neck and was able to fly within a couple of weeks. The RIO sustained more serious burns on his hands but was flying again after several weeks.

Not Touching Them For Two Days - True story; they flew best when they were used a lot.

[splendsay]

COD FF // Callsign: Sunshine // Ch. 44: Just a .22

WE'RE IN BOSTON FOLKS THIS IS NOT A DRILL

..................................................................

Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 44: Just a .22

Rating: 18+ !!MDNI!! Chapters: 44/? WC: 118,410 Pairing(s): TF141 x F!Reader (You) Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, suggestive content Chapter Excerpt (🚨spoilers!!🚨):

"Fuck you," you seethe through clenched teeth.

Your upper thigh is clamped between both hands. Blood dribbles down your fingers, the makeshift tourniquet Simon made from the hem of someone's shirt not quite enough to stem it. Ricky is digging around in the hole near your knee -- parting skin and sinew with a surprisingly surgical pair of tongs to root out the bullet currently lodged somewhere close to the bone.

The only reason you haven't ripped the skin off his smarmy mustachioed face is because you're a little tipsy. And restrained by the arms of Soap, whose lap you're in.

"Don't be so dramatic, darlin', it's only a .22," Ricky chides.

"How could you possibly fucking know that?"

"Got an eye for 'em'."

"Course you do."

Even through the liquored haze, it still feels like a fire is ravaging your entire leg. The pain of the gunshot itself is sharp. Throbbing. But the attempt to remove the bullet has truly been a grueling test of your ever-fluctuating willpower. 

"How's about I carve your eyes out with my bare hands and make you eat them, you f--."

Ricky lets out a hearty guffaw, cutting you off.

You don't mean it, though the thought does bring a small amount of joy to your otherwise pain-addled brain. In the short time he's been stabbing you thoroughly and repeatedly, you've learned that batshit threats of violence usually make him laugh. And making him laugh is a nice distraction.

Not a very effective one. 

But it's better than nothing. 

"Take another shot o' moonshine," Ricky instructs, gesturing to the flask beside his foot. 

Moonshine doesn't remotely begin to describe the heat of Ricky's horse piss liquor. You'd told him as much after your first swig. 

"You should call this shit Sunburn," you'd sputtered. He'd laughed at that too. 

It's the only medication you're going to get, but you're not sure getting hammered is going to make this experience any better.

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself, darlin'."

Soap idly traces his thumbs along your biceps. Another nice distraction. Together, you sit in the first row of first class on an American Airlines passenger jet. An Airbus. Ancient, but still moving. 

Turns out Cap's friends are looters of a grand sort. Grand larceny, to be specific. Slim's defense when pressed was that nobody else was fuckin' usin' it. Without Cap conscious to otherwise vouch for her, you'd had no choice but to take her word for it. 

Cap himself is in Slim's hands, which the siblings -- you think they're siblings -- all four of them: Slim, Ricky, and the other two pilots, Junior and Rabbit -- insist is a good thing. She's got him somewhere behind the curtain separating first class from the rest of the plane. You've asked about him a dozen times. At least. They've assured you each time that Slim was a trained combat medic. Has seen a head injury or two in her time. Nimble fingers and whatnot. 

But you can only think of Alex. Alex and his weeks' long coma. Alex who hasn't ever quite been the same, though you suppose you never truly knew him before his injury. He's been stoic. Quiet since you got on the plane. Resting against Farah's shoulder just across the aisle from you. 

Simon is on your other side, in the window seat, holding your hand. Well, really, you're holding his. Squeezing the shit out of it. The tips of his fingers are white. 

Gaz, Gary, and the Los Vaqueros boys are behind you, silent enough to suggest they've all fallen asleep.

Ricky's hand slips, sending his tongs deeper than they ought to be. You howl in outrage, thrashing in your seat, almost kicking him in the chin, but Soap quickly detains you -- with an arm banded across your chest and a low murmur in your ear. 

"Be still, love."

You hiss at him. "Fuck you too." 

He chuckles, which sends a flare of defiance through your skull -- a shock of red on the edge of your vision. You buck against him, wriggling your hips, trying to set yourself free of his grip. But it only tightens.

"You don't mean that," he croons. 

"Maybe I do."

"Careful, Ace."

The heat behind his warning softens your ire instantly. "Don't 'careful Ace' me," you lecture -- but there's no tooth to it. Not as you become very aware of his breath, hot on the back of your neck. One of his hands drops from your arm down to your waist. 

Some of the pain eddies away. Dulls. Like someone threw a blanket over it. More effective than Ricky's toilet liquor, anyway. 

Your eyes slide to Simon's, whose twinkle with something mischievous. Something dark and husky and deviant. The ever-present thread between you tightens -- though, now there's more of it. Another branch. A third anchor. 

Everything is taught.

"Ace..." Soap murmurs, following your gaze. 

You shift your hips again. Just a little. He stiffens beneath you. Releases a huff of air, blowing your some of your hair into your face. 

"Be still, woman," Ricky scolds. 

"Eat me, asshole." Your voice is soft. Throaty. You couldn't be more transparent if you tried.

"Just fuckin' relax."

"I am relaxed."

"Then stop movin'."

You can't.

You feel feral. You need to get up and walk around, if you only could. You need to run a hundred laps around the plane. Shed your skin. Get out of Soap's lap and into -- something else. 

Soap plants a gentle kiss on your shoulder and a shiver skates down your spine. 

"Johnny," you hiss. "Knock it off."

"I'm distracting you."

You let out a quiet groan -- a mix of chagrin and desire -- hardly audible. But Soap hears it, the growing firmness in his lap a delicious confirmation.

But another sharp throb of pain in your thigh dumps a bucket of ice water over your head, involuntarily sending your foot forward into Ricky a second time. 

"Oof, hey now, I've almost got it," he scolds, dodging you. 

"Fuck off, Ricky."

"Foul mouth."

"Bite me."

"Just -- think happy thoughts or somethin'."

"Happy thoughts? Really?"

"I dunno, have your other boyfriend whisper sweet nothings in your ear, since the one ain't enough."

Simon and Soap both go still. You blink at him, incredulous. Indignant. 

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Loaded question."

You snort. "Confidence inspiring."

"I ain't one to judge, don't you worry."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well don't worry 'bout this neither," he gestures to your leg with his free hand. "I know what I'm doin'."

His words don't quite match his physicality. His brow is coated in sweat -- the headlamp he's using to see what he's doing sliding down a little as each minute passes. 

Not exactly soothing to the nerves. 

You miss Doc. 

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