#Grippen

[johnsgrandtour]

Aeroseum and Sweden's Jet Fighters

Swedish jet fighters have historically and currently been some of the best fighters in the world. In the Aeroseum(Air Museum), each jet fighter Sweden has developed since their invention.

What is just as amazing as the jets is this underground bunker all these planes are stored in. In 1955 they built this bunker so a squadron of planes(40 personnel and 15 Aircraft) would be able to withstand a nuclear blast.

Here's the J35 Draken(Dragon), it's the plane I'm on sitting on in the first picture. Probably the sleekest jet plane I've ever seen and a contender for my favorite jet.

Here's the 37 Viggen, it's the next jet to enter service. While it was built to perform multiple rolls, it was mostly used for maritime reconnaissance. Under it's right wing there is a camera mounted to it.

Now this is one mean jet. Introducing the SAAN JAS 39 Grippen. An amazing fighter which was designed, sourced, and built entirely within Sweden.

I'll wrap up this post with a couple more pictures of the Drakken and some other helicopters they had on display.

You'll recognize this helicopter from any Vietnam War movie. Sweden procured many of these from the US for search and rescue.

Here is the HKP9. An anti-tank helicopter that can perform a loop.

With this post I am caught up for the moment, tomorrow we'll end up in Jönköping. There should be some really cool and old buildings there!

[us-angels-together]

Imagine walking through the forest, you wanted to take a hike/walk to clear your mind. You really have been struggling a lot mentally. You just have not been in a good place.

After walking for a decent time you come across a clearing, it's absolutely beautiful. There's so many wildflowers growing, the sun is perfectly shinning on this clearing, it's perfectly picturesque.

You walk and look around you, spinning slowly to observe your surroundings until you stumble and fall backwards. Before you can hit your ground someone caught you by your armpits.

You're in a weird half sit position and you glance at your feet to 1) try and stand to stabilize yourself (this is embarrassing to you) and 2) what did you trip over.

At your feet is a fairly big mushroom, and it's purple? You've never seen a purple mushroom before. The person still holding you clears their throat. You move to stand up on your own but they continue to hold you.

They tsk in your ear and it makes a shiver run through you.

"What are you doing here?" The voice asks, smooth like butter.

You explain that you were out on a walk and didn't mean to disturb them. You blabber nervously as the person's grip tightens.

"This is my terrority and there's severe punishments for trespassers. If you can get me a purple iris, a begonia, and a red salvia."

You wrack your mind trying to think of what those flowers look like when suddenly you can vividly picture them in your mind. By now you're standing and you turn to look at the person they are gone.

You sigh and set forth on your mission, you debated high-tailing it out of there but you have a feeling in your gut that you need to do this.

By the time you found and plucked those three flowers the sun is setting, you make your way back to the clearing to see your f/o. They are standing in the middle of a circle of mushrooms.

You go closer and thrust your hand of the flowers out by your f/o just smiles at you and tells you to come closer. You hesitate before stepping into the circle, and standing just inches away from them you ask them not to punish you for your trespasses. And a conniving grin appears on their face.

"You have to say 'I promise' as you give me the flowers, and I'll let you off the hook."

You quickly do as they say and once you finish speaking a blinding light appears and it circles around your wrist and theirs and pulls you closer to them.

You look around wildly and confused and then they whisper in your ear, "You're mine now."

Divider by @dollywons

「this was a longer one but I had fun writing and imagining it, not sure if this one makes sense so here's an explanation: when you stepped in the fairy circle you summoned a fairy (who is your f/o) and by giving those flowers it married the two of you via magical fairly ways (aka because I wanted that to happen). maybe I'll write some more longer ones... 」

[segemarldoodles]

Bertrand, Jakub Judi, Laird, Lu-Bo Monte, Taketa

I don't know if I like the full art or the ones in the frames better for the art show. I also got down the list for the next 11 that I'm doing. Sketches soonish.

[ceo-of-capitalism]

BASED SWEDEN, MORE WEAPONS MEANS MORE DEAD BAD GUYS

[mono-dontidae]

random hc's

c/w: they're either stupid or weird. mostly brainrotted. i made this half past 2 in the morning so it's not proofread.

a/n: im taking a bit of a break from angst to write this cause i can't keep being depressing 🥀

pairing(s): bokuto, hanamaki, nishinoya, lev, suna, matsukawa, atsumu, akaashi x !gn reader

bokuto

- type of guy who has burping contests out in public and loses

- he'd swoop in to kiss your cheek but trick you into letting him lick you instead

- randomly recites brainrot while doing a simple task (ex: *washing the dishes* "..tung tung tung.. sahur.....")

hanamaki

- "are you deaduzz 🥀" while making the most obscure and soul-grippen shocked face ever

- istead of complimenting you like a normal person, he'd hit the 👅 emote like crazy

- his ringtone is unity by thefatrat

nishinoya

- would dutch oven you, no hesitation

- if you asked him if he did something he wasn't supposed to do he'd go, "whaaat? that's crazy, my 6'7 self would never do such a thing!"

- if he'd fake calling in sick to class, he'd have some fuckass reason (ex: "absent. reason: has ligma.")

lev

- he laughed super hard one time and farted on accident and proceeded to hit the choking emote out of embarrassment

- type of guy to say 'ow' at anything whether it hurt or not

- if he has cold hands, he'd place them under your shirt and onto your waist to giggle at you when you shriek

suna

- everytime he compliments you, he'd talk to an invisible camera (ex: "chat, was that W rizz?" "chat, don't clip that" "chat, was i nonchalant about it?" "complimenting the huzz at [insert time] challenge, gone right")

- ragebaits kids on roblox

- used to make sad bart simpsons edits back in the day

matsukawa

- "oh, so you hate me?" when you say no

- randomly breaks out into song when he feels like it no matter what (ex: *3 mins in having a conversation* "ain't itttt fuuuuunnnn~?" *continues like nothing happened)

- would annoy you on purpose when he's losing an argument by repeating what you said in a nerdy voice (ex: "[insert sentence] headahh 🤓🤣")

atsumu

- would post about how he hates periods & his collection of feminist literature

- corny tryhard insta captions like, "got me feeling myself like i lost my keys" "call me inertia cos i got dat motion"

- tells osamu "dont pmo" "bruh youre so kevin 💔" "ts so buns" when osamu can't serve for shit

akaashi

- would tell you a random fact and wait for you to go, "really?" just to tell you "no lmao"

- type of guy to type "🧯" to guys who type "🔥" in your insta comments whenever you post smth

- wears a weezer shirt in public

gurt: yo

[fandom-lover2]

The Hound

Chapter Two - Ghost Stories

-image not mine-

Chapter One - A-hunting We Go

I shifted in my seat, reaching for my water bottle and taking a drink.

This road trip had been very, very, uneventful.

Aside from Mrs Hudson and her love drama as we were leaving, nothing happened.

Train ride, nada. Car ride, zip.

John and Sherlock only spoke when necessary, otherwise in their own worlds.

I tried reading, but it was a boring book about something I didn’t even like. Sherlock’s attempts to train me to be just like him were annoying at time. Who the hell even reads about the psychology of a person’s cheese preferences for fun anyway?

And John, he was nose deep on his phone with that blog of his. I swear, he loved it more than me and Sherlock.

Sherlock was taking everything in, having to take moments to close his eyes so he didn’t become overwhelmed by it all.

Last thing we needed was another guy hitting him after he exposed a cheating wife.

I looked out the window of the hired car, to the rolling green hills.

Other than those 2 days at Christmas, I’d never been to the English countryside. I had been expecting more soggy field, sheep and stone walls, but this looked like a normal countryside like back home.

Other than ‘looking for the hound’, I didn’t really know what we were going to be doing here. But hey, a couple days off school and some quality time with Sherlock and John, I wasn’t going to complain.

Following the map, because they both still insisted on a map, we drove for a good hour before pulling over onto the side of the road.

Climbing out the back, I stretched and began to follow the men up a hill with a large rock cropping on it.

Sherlock scaled the rocks, trench coat and shoes and all.

I tried to follow after him, but John grabbed my arm to stop me. “Absolutely not.”

“Please.” I begged.

“She’ll be fine.” Sherlock called down, halfway up.

“She could slip.” John argued.

“She’s more agile than you think.” Sherlock reasoned.

“Please John. I’ll step exactly where Sher does.”

“John,” Sherlock called down, when it was becoming clear that he wasn’t going to let me go. “I’ve got her.”

The doctor sighed, realizing he wasn’t losing this one, and released me. “Be careful. And you, watch her.” he threatened up at Sherlock with a finger.

With Sherlock’s instruction, I stepped where he told me, scrambling up the rocks behind him. At the top, he helped me the last step up and then led me to the middle of the outcropping.

“Why are we up here?” I asked, taking in the world below.

“To get a clear lay of the land.” Sherlock murmured.

I knew nothing of hunting, but it was fun being up here. I could see everything. And feel the sun’s warmth on the skin, and the breeze through my hair.

I’d spent too much time locked away in the city. Fresh air felt thin, and strange in my lungs. And my skin soaked in the sun like a wilted flower.

I tilted my head back, taking a moment to relish the nature.

“There’s Baskerville.” John spoke up from below, Sherlock and I both turning to look where he pointed.

The large facility, all white with large fencing around. A lab of some kind, Google said.

“That’s Grippen Village.” John turned almost 180 degrees, pointing to the town behind us. I couldn’t see much but a falling down castle, the rest of the village beyond the ridge.

“So that must be…” John spoke to himself, re-checking the map before pointing back towards the research faculty, where there was a thick cluster of trees. “Yes, Dews Hollow.”

Where the Hound had killed the client’s father.

“What’s that?” Sherlock pointed towards the research base, or rather just below it.

John hummed, then pulled up his binoculars. “A minefield.” he informed. “Technically Baskerville is an army base, so I guess they’ve always been keen on keeping people out.”

Ok, so avoid the active minefield.

“Clearly.” Sherlock mused. By his tone, I could tell he was already working on a theory.

“Now what do we do?” I asked.  

“Find some food and a place to stay for the night. You need dinner and bed.” John answered, folding the map.

“Yes Mom.” I mumbled, which earned a snicker from Sherlock.

“What?” John called.

“Nothing!” Sherlock and I replied in unison, giggling.

“Sherlock, help her down. And make sure she doesn’t break her neck.”

“I’m not helpless.” I said to no one in particular, beginning to pick my way down the rocks.

When I reached the last bit, I leapt down and landed beside John, much to his annoyance.

And then I took off, racing down the hill towards the car.

I hated running, when being told to, but being out here with no people to avoid, or students to compare myself to, it felt good to get the crisp air in my lungs and to feel so free.

I raced the wind, leaping over stones, and skidded to a halt beside the car.

John and Sherlock were still up the hill, slowly making their way down.

“Hurry up!” I called, and I didn’t actually expect them to do it.

 But then Sherlock was rushing down, leaving John behind. A moment too late, I realized he wasn’t just running to the car, but running right for me.

“What the hell did I do?” I yelped, turning tail and beginning to run around the car, opening the door and diving in, closing the door behind me just before he reached me.

“Testing your reflexes.” Sherlock panted, like it made sense.

He was so weird at times.

Climbing into the driver’s seat, he started up and car and we waited for John, who finally made it down the hill.

“Ready to go?” John asked, climbing in.

I rolled my eyes at his attempt at humor.

Getting back on the road, Sherlock headed for the village.

It was small, really small, and a stereotypical old English town.

We pulled up to the Cross Keys, a bar/restaurant/hotel. Unfortunately, their website didn’t allow for online booking, so we just had to hope they had rooms or we’d be sleeping in the car because this was the only accommodation joint in this town.

We got out the car and made out way to the entrance, passing a group of tourists standing around a guy obviously hamming it up for them. At his side, a sign saying “Beware the hound” with a crudely drawn wolf.

“And remember, stay away from the wood at night if you value your lives!” the guide joked.

I settled in between Sherlock and John, side eyeing both of them as they looked at one another, Sherlock turning up his coat’s collar and defending himself from John’s mocking glance.

“There isn’t actually something to worry about out there, right?”

Apparently, I didn’t do a good enough job of keeping the worry out my voice, because John reached over to wrap an arm around me.

Sherlock didn’t say anything, not that I expected him to.

Of course it was stupid, fearing a gigantic dog was running around these woods. It was like believing in bigfoot.

We stepped inside, and I noticed a sign saying they did vegetarian cuisine.

John spoke to the man behind the bar while I began to wonder around inside.

It was cute, and quaint, and old.

While I was enjoying the scene, Sherlock was doing his thing. And John did his, chatting up the barman and getting some information.

Sherlock caught my eye, beckoning me over when he saw John had the keys and was readying to leave.

“Have you ever seen it? The Hound?” I heard John ask as I approached.

“Me? No. Fletcher has.” The bar keeper pointed to the guy who was doing the speech outside.

He continued to talk, yapping on about something. Sherlock stepped out, and I followed after him.

Going to a table, he took a half glass of beer someone had left and approached the guy. “What do you see?”

I scanned him. Mid 20s, probably wanting to get the hell out of this town. On the phone, meaning in a moment of distraction. Newspaper in his pocket, ‘Racing’ and then something, meaning an interest in betting.

“Got it.” I muttered to Sherlock, just as we arrived to the table.

“Mind if we join you?” Sherlock started, taking a seat when the guy showed he didn’t. I sat beside him.

“Have you really seen that Hound thing?” I started, adding a bit of wonder into my tone.

“Sarah please,” Sherlock admonished.

I know cover names were supposed to be something simple, easily remembered and forgotten, but Sarah? He knew of my beef with Sarah from Bio.

“Dad, he said he’s seen it.” I insisted, before turning to the guy. “He’s such a non-believer.”

The guy did a once over of Sherlock. “You from the papers?”

I laughed, something mocking and disbelieving.

“No, nothing like that. She just watched that documentary and wanted to see for herself. Have you seen it?”

“Maybe.” He acted nocholant, trying and failing to make his answer seem mysterious.

Sherlock nudged me to start. “Got any proof?”

He turned to us, offended. “Why would I tell if I did?” He moved to stand, John coming over just in time. “Excuse me.”

“I called Henry-”

“Bets off, sorry John.” Sherlock interrupted.

“What?”

The dumbass took the bait. “Bet?”

“My plan needs darkness.” Sherlock looked down to his watch. “Looks like we’ve got another half an hour of light before-”

“Wait, what bet?”

“Oh, my dad bet John 50 quid you couldn’t prove you’d seen the Hound.” I answered, pulling out my phone and beginning to ‘type’ a message, giving the illusion of losing interest. People hated when kids ignored them. “Guess that documentary was just crap.”

“Yeah, the guys in the pub said you could.” John tagged on, finally understanding what was going on.

The guy huffed a laugh. “Well, you’re gonna lose your money mate.”

“Yeah?” Sherlock pushed.

“Yeah. I’ve seen it. Only about a month ago, up at the Hollow. It was foggy, mind. Couldn’t make much out.” He pulled out his phone, beginning to scroll through his camera roll.

“So no witnesses, I suppose.” Sherlock asked, rolling his eyes when the kid agreed. “Never are.”

“But, wait.” He held out his phone towards Sherlock and I.

Well, it was a large dog. More wolf than dog. And given the angle of the shot, it could have been taken to make the dog appear bigger.

Not believable, but not bullshit either. More probable that photoshop was used.

“Is that it?” Sherlock scoffed, and the guy turned his phone towards John, who squinted at the screen. “It’s not exactly proof, is it?”

“Photoshop.” I taunted, refocusing on my note app as I typed nonsense.

“Sorry John, I win.”

“Wait, wait. That’s not all.” the guy cut in, pocketing his phone. “People don’t like going up there, you know?”

Yeah, we’d heard. And Sherlock was still planning a midnight hike. We weren’t normal people.

“It’s the Hollow. Gives them… a bad sort of feelin’.”

“Ohh, is it haunted?” Sherlock mocked. “Is that supposed to convince me?”

“Nah, don’t be stupid. Nothing like that. But I recon there is something out there. Something from Baskerville escaped.”

“Clone? Super dog?” Sherlock carried on, doing a good job at playing an asshole.

“Maybe. God knows what they’ve been spraying on us all these years, or putting in the water. I wouldn’t trust them as far as I could spit.” the guy continued.

“That’s the best you’ve got?”

Maybe that was it. I mean, he seems more the show off type than the show for it. I mean, he had a freaking werewolf mask sticking out his bag. For all we knew, he was the damn dog thing.

But, tour guide stupid actually seemed to get serious, looking to me and John before talking. “I had a mate once who worked for the MOD. One weekend we were meant to go fishing but he never showed up, well not till later. When he did, he was white as a sheet. I can see him now. ‘I’ve seen things today, Fletcher’, he said. ‘That I never want to see again’.”

He looked just a spooked as his friend.

“He was sent to work at some secret army place. Maybe, maybe, Baskerville or somewhere else. In the labs there, the really secret labs, he said he’d seen terrible things. Rats as big as dogs, he’d said. And dogs…” He pulled a slab of cement from his backpack. “And dogs the size of horses.”

It was a casting of a footprint. A canine footprint. A canine footprint of something you’d expect to find of a dire wolf.

“We did say 50?” John cut in, taking a sip of his beer.

Sherlock continued to analyze the mold as he pulled out his wallet and pulled out some notes, throwing them onto the table for John.

“Ta.” John thanked him, taking the notes as Sherlock stood and headed for the car.

Draining his beer, John stood and followed.

I reached out before the guy put the slab away, testing my own hand against the print. It was bigger than my hand, a lot bigger.

I shoved the cement back to him, running to catch up with Sherlock and John.

They were already in the car, strapped in and waiting for me.

“Ok, it was bullshit before but something had to make those prints. Are we really going to go out there?”

Sherlock looked at me through the mirror. “Scared of a ghost story?”

“We’ll see who’s laughing when you’re being eaten.” I mumbled, looking away from him.  

Tags: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

[steak-n-popotoes]

grippening your fucking shoulder as I tell you about Why I like Dawntrail and the wuk. there should be even more instances of her name in the script I think

[rosyfox2002]

Grisps you

AUGH THE GRIPPENING

[commiemartyrshighschool]

Saab's Grippen is probably a better choice for most countries currently buying or considering buying the F-35 since it's cheaper to buy, operate, and maintain while fulfilling all the roles demanded of modern fighter aircraft in current conflicts.

Stealth is a huge perk to be sure, but totally overkill for drone hunting and stand-offs.

And if you have to risk the US flipping off your systems because you said the wrong thing and buying the F-35 doesn't earn significant diplomatic credit with a nuclear power, why bother?

That last point was really the only thing keeping that program on top, and now it's caught between a man who thinks the planes are literally invisible and one who thinks a webcam with an AI attached can find it with ease.

[deathgrips-rip]

More DeathGrips.Rip's The Grippening coming soon!

[ada-grzywaczewska]

CREATIVITY 27.08.23

I attended an air show in Radom and decided to make a souvenir for myself. So, I recorded the jets not only flying, but also passing by, very close to people. That gave me an opportunity to see the jets carefully and spot their detailes. So I gathered and edited my clips and photos together. The clips here contain: F-18, F-16, Billikens, P-51, JAS 39 Grippen

[susurrusblue]

grippin an farten grippen amd faten grippen an farten

[segemarldoodles]

[korrektheiten]

Deutschland 2023, ein psychisch krankes Land

Tichy:»Déjà-vu heißt das Wort für das Gefühl, eine neue Situation schon mal erlebt zu haben. Die Schlagzeile „Krankenstand erreicht Rekord-Niveau“ zu lesen, wirkt wie ein Déjà-vu – ist aber keines. Denn diese Schlagzeile begleitet die Deutschen seit der Pandemie. Aber es sind keine Grippen, die den Krankenstand von einem Rekord zum nächsten treiben. Nicht einmal Der Beitrag Deutschland 2023, ein psychisch krankes Land erschien zuerst auf Tichys Einblick. http://dlvr.it/SyHNLZ «

[greenmaxrebo]

I should never be trusted to drive a vehicle of any kind; not because I am a lousy driver, but because my tight grippens