#Helicopter maneuvers

[swagging-back-to]

i do unironically still believe chem trails exist.

[rcmclachlan]

I love how it appears that Tommy is the grounded, well-adjusted foil to Buck's devil-may-care adrenaline junkie, but I also have to remind myself that Tommy was the guy who was asked to steal a helicopter and fly it into a category 5 hurricane on a hunch, and he was like, "yeah, cool, let's go."

Buck probably thinks Tommy's a rational, responsible adult, because he's so considerate and he owns a house and he's so methodical when he takes Buck apart in bed and he's got a 401k and a Roth IRA account. The helicopter heist flight was definitely an outlier.

But eventually he learns the truth: Tommy's batshit insane.

Like, they're hanging in bed one morning and Buck's on his phone trying to solve the math riddle Hen sent him, and he laments the loss of his lightning-enhanced skills. And Tommy, turning the page on the WWI biography he's reading, absently says, "At least you got them. All I got was 30% hearing loss in my left ear."

Buck slowly lowers his phone and demands an explanation, and Tommy, still focused on his book, tells him about when he was struck by lightning. Both times. The second time he was in the middle of a hoist and winch rescue trying to get to the captain of a sunk fishing boat in the middle of open ocean during a storm. Tommy holds his place in his book with his thumb and shows Buck the picture Lucy took of his Lichtenberg burn—it spans the entirety of his back and goes halfway down his arms. Buck stares at it, stunned, then takes the phone and book out of Tommy's hands, tosses them on the floor, and proceeds to suck Tommy's brain out through his dick.

The first time Buck goes to see Tommy at Harbor, Tommy is still en route back from a call, so Buck gets to talking to two people named Nico and Dana who've worked with Tommy since he arrived. Buck sheepishly apologizes for putting Tommy in such a dangerous position with the hurricane.

Nico and Dana look at each other and snort. Nico puts his hand on Buck's shoulder and is like, "Dude, that is not the craziest thing Kinard's ever done. That's not the craziest thing he's done this year."

They tell him about his legendary but batshit NATOPS check maneuvers and how no one's ever been able to figure out how he can do a barrel roll in low altitude in a transport bird.

They tell him about the time he and Donato were called to a high-rise gas explosion, and they casevac'd an unconscious, pregnant woman who ended up going into labor. Tommy got back there and, with the power of WikiHow on his side, delivered a healthy baby girl halfway to LA General.

They tell him about the time he sustained a concussion while landing a malfunctioning helicopter in the baseball field of a middle school, and yet somehow found the strength to host an impromptu AMA to three hundred kids about what being a pilot's like while he munched on tater tots and waited for a rescue.

They tell him about the time he was flying with a probie at night in an area with uncharted power lines that got tangled in the rotor, and how he slung the probie under his arm like a tote bag and dove out of the helicopter right before it exploded.

They tell him about the time Tommy and Nico were called to a cliffside mansion where some foreign dignitary's daughter was being held hostage. Tommy ended up HRSTing out of the helicopter and onto the scene, and then proceeded to beat the hell out of the guy, get himself stabbed, and give the SWAT team so much shit when they arrived that the 217 has an honorary table every year at the Backdraft Ball.

When Tommy finally shows up and disembarks, Dana's halfway through a story about the time they were all called to Shasta County to help with the Carr Fire in 2018, and as soon as Buck sees him over Dana's shoulder, he shouts, "You flew into a fire tornado?!"

Tommy's expression goes a little hunted and he holds up his hands placatingly, like, "In my defense, I tried to find another way around it—"

And Dana's like, "The fuck you did. You looked me dead in the eye and said, 'You know what would be funny?' And then you banked right into the whirl."

"It's not like you tried to stop me," Tommy says accusingly, ignoring the way the side of his head is starting to smoke from the intensity of Buck's stare.

"Well, no, you were right: it was funny," Dana says with a shrug.

That night, Buck rides Tommy slow and vicious and makes him recount every detail of the fire whirl flight before he'll let Tommy come, and the entire time he grips Tommy's head and forces him to hold Buck's gaze and thinks, I can't believe I ever thought you were normal. You're insane, you're out of your mind, you're perfect, you're perfect, you're perfect for me.

In the afterglow, practically humming with satisfaction, Buck bites playfully at Tommy's chest and says, "So this is what Lucy meant when she texted me that you and I match each other's crazy. Hell, after everything you've done, I think the only thing left to check off your list is, like, aliens."

And Tommy's entire body freezes and he falls very silent very suddenly. Buck lifts his head to stare at him, like, "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Evan, for legal reasons, I need you to change the subject."

[writersdrug]

I Don't Need You

Chapter 13. Each Other

Masterlist

Summary: Ridgeback was right: you and König make a good pair on the battlefield. Though, that doesn't mean the mission still can't go wrong.

Warnings: cursing, German that I'm too lazy to translate (nothing important), violence and blood, reader gets socked

As much as a leader should be, and as much as I hated to admit it, Ridgeback was right about everything he’d said: König and I made a decent team.

The morning after König’s temper tantrum, he was waiting outside of my door before breakfast. He mumbled something about “need to work together”, before turning on his heel and marching towards the mess hall. I stared after him, confused, but quickly grabbed my jacket when he barked at me to keep up with him. He was still grumpy, sure… but he wasn’t grumpy with me. Ridgeback must have given him an earful.

For the rest of the day, it was impossible to shake him. He ran training courses with me as we both got a feel for how the other worked. I figured out that König was truly a tank, in every sense of the word. Any poor “enemy” corporal that stood in his way was either launched to the side or pelted with a minimum of five rubber bullets to the head. And this was just a practice course; I couldn’t imagine what he would look like on the field. I was happy to be his six, his shadow that cleaned up the mess behind him. I made sure any stragglers were swiftly taken out, and that no one could sink a bullet into his back as he maneuvered through the course.

It was flawless. It made Ridgeback smirk as the two of us made our way back to the start of the run. His eyes held a thousand I told you so’s that made König scoff and my eyes roll. Still, it was obvious that we worked well together.

After that, I had a brief period of solitude when I retreated into the shower. As soon as I emerged from my barracks, König was there – leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. He followed to the mess, where we ate in silence. In the common area I pulled out a checkers bord and challenged him to a game; König obliged, opting to put his phone down and entertain my request. It was only a few, shameful minutes before he had me beat; He chuckled as I pouted and flipped on the TV, letting some foreign movie drone on and pretending I was invested.

It wasn’t humiliating to have him connected to my hip, nor was it suffocating. It felt good to know I had molded so well to someone in the team; that I could see how useful I was. But König was certainly… unexpectedly clingy. “Forcing himself” wasn’t the correct term, but it wasn’t hard to see that he was straining his limits. There was still something holding him back from accepting that we were a decent pair, even if it was just in combative circumstances. Part of me wanted to call him out on his behavior and tell him to stop being a child – then again, I didn’t want to start an argument. Not with the next mission right around the corner. So I let him be.

In addition to the dynamic between König and I, Ridgeback had been right about the mission: it was a downright bitch. Based in some tiny village on the edge of Narikala, Georgia, backed against a thick, snowy forest. The air was bitterly cold, nipping at my cheeks and seeping in through the fingertips of my gloves. I sat next to König on the heli, absentmindedly letting my knee rest against his thigh to savor any warmth I could get. He bounced his knee anxiously – in excitement or nervousness, I couldn’t tell.

Not five minutes after the heli had touched the ground did all hell break loose. König and I jumped out of our seats and were immediately met with a storm of bullets. Pedestrians had already started panicking when they heard the blades of the helicopter – now, they were screaming, running to take cover in the shabby, concrete structures that lined the streets. It was a miracle that we didn’t get separated then and there – well, not much of a miracle. König had grabbed me by my vest and yanked me to the side, out of the line of fire. He didn’t let me go until we had made it into one of the buildings, dropping me rather unceremoniously onto my feet.

From there, things only got worse – but we were able to manage it. Rose and Horangi weren’t far behind us as we cleared each room for them. It was nothing short of difficult: some of the enemy soldiers were able to land a decent jab to König’s side, despite being killed no less than three seconds later by a bullet to the neck.  He seemed… giddy, like a teenage boy playing some first-person-shooter game in an arcade. It was all game to him; throwing punches and firing his assault rifle, occasionally dropping a laugh and scampering off to find his next victim.

Covering his six was surprisingly a simpler task on the field than in training. König didn’t leave anything but dead bodies in his wake. I spent more time helping him with what was hitting him head on. He used his gun more often as a bludgeoner than an actual rifle, ramming it into the faces and stomachs of anything that crossed his path. I forced myself not to focus on it too much – the idea of him relishing in the massacre of others threatened to shake me from my objective, but I pushed past it and continued to follow him through the buildings.

The stench of iron was strong now; the sounds of gunfire and voices shouting in a foreign language echoed across the various concrete walls, but I was all too attuned to it by now. The two of us reached the building where the hostiles had set up their temporary base, covered by thick walls and satellite dishes on the roof. König took the upper ground, running up the stairs on the side of the building. I pulled up next to the lower entrance and cleared one side – almost instantly, a hostile soldier clocked me on the opposite side, right in my face with the butt of his rifle. My back hit the wall before I realized what was happening, but I didn’t hesitate to fire my gun from where I was propped up on the floor. My pulse thrummed loudly in my ears as I blinked a few times, pulling myself up to my feet with a grunt.

Roze and Horangi entered shortly after; Roze grimaced, placing her gloved hand on my helmet and turning my cheek towards her. “That’s gonna be a shiner. You ok?”

I sniffed and cleared my throat. “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s right.” She replied proudly, tapping my helmet, before running off to one of the monitors. “Horangi! The drive.” She jerked her head in his direction.

He pulled a hard disc from his cargo pants pocket, tossing it across the room; Roze caught it effortlessly and jammed it into the towers of one of the monitors, plugging in a passcode cracker.

“They’re calling in backup.” He said, glancing through one of the windows. “Don’t even care who they’re aiming at, civilians or us.”

“Have you heard from Majka?” I asked, unable to hide the slight worry in my tone. “Exfil?”

“No. Comms are still down.” He said bluntly. Even he was nervous, missing the usual, cocky lilt in his tone. “Last I heard, Fender and O’Connor were still on the west side, clearing the exit. Castillo and Zero are setting up foxhole.”

I nodded. Everyone still seemed to be on track, at least – it was daunting not to have Majka in our ears, keeping us connected with who had what position. König was the only one with a ham radio directly to Majka – it was the only line we had to any sort of commanding voice.

“I’ll find König.” I said, tapping Horangi’s arm. “Castillo and Zero will have your backs on the way out. We’ll guard the entrance.”

He nodded, before swiftly crossing the room to stand next to Roze: still bend over the monitor and typing furiously on the keyboard. I turned on my heel and left through the way I came, clearing the room left and right, then running to the edge of the building where I had last seen König. The air was quiet with the lack of shouts, despite the abundance of guns firing. Would König make a sound if he was being attacked? Would he stay silent? How would I know if he was injured? What if he was already?

Suddenly, a massive figure rounded the corner. For a moment I raised my rifle, aiming at the soldier’s chest – until I realized it was König. Switching teams as often as I had made it a struggle to remember who to shoot and who not to shoot, but it was easy to recognize his lumbering form anywhere.  

He didn’t bother with the pleasantries. “Exfil isn’t coming.” He said, maneuvering his body to press flat against the side of the building. He tucked his ham radio back into his tactical vest.

“Huh?!” I snapped, following closely behind him. “The fuck do you mean?”

“You see this?!” he gestured to the chaos around us – it was fairly congested with enemy soldiers. Although we made good headway, we were outnumbered. “They won’t be able to get in here. Majka said we need to get out; he has evac on the way, but it’ll take time.”

I scowled, more at the situation than at König. I knew Roze and Horagni could handle themselves, and they were more than safe with Castillo and Zero on their backs. What got me was the retreat; I’d only ever retreated twice before (ironically, both times falling under Price’s command), and it only did more harm than good.

Before I could give it any more thought, König’s thick fingers were wrapped around my vest again, pulling me behind him. I steeled my nerves as we wound through the buildings, dodging bullet rain and civilians as they sought cover. König appeared to be running us towards the forest, taking us closer to the edge of the village.

“What about the others?” I shouted over the commotion, as he dragged us past the large, stone walls at the entrance of the town. They would essentially be trapped in the center of the gunfire.

“They’re fine.” He said bluntly, dragging me up the hill and towards the tree line, not entertaining the issue I presented. Whether he was truly confident with that statement, or burying his concern for the sake of focusing, was beyond me. I had to trust him; the snow beneath my feet made it difficult to keep my pace with him, but he had yet to let go of my vest, so I had no choice but to stumble after him.

A glance back at the village had my stomach clenching in worry. Would they be able to get out? I looked around at the bodies strewn in the snowy terrain around us, some civilians, some enemies, some of our own. Gunfire continued to echo through the frigid air – Evac wouldn’t be here for a while, I realized, staring at one of the cadaver’s rucksacks – which might not even matter, if we froze to death in the woods. We certainly weren’t prepared to wait out in the freezing cold, however, a native to Georgia might. I dug my heels into the ground and ripped myself from König’s hold, acting on an impulsive survival instinct.

“Was machst du?!” König yelled a babble of German that I ignored. I skidded to a halt by one of the bodies and rolled it over (with difficulty), searching frantically. C’mon, c’mon… I tore open the pockets on his tactical belt and scavenged what I though was useful. König scanned around us – the sound of bullets flying, along with the fact that we were not trying to move away from it, wasn’t sitting well with him.

“We need to go!” he shouted.  

“Alright alright!!” I said, finally snatching the backpack off of the body. Hopefully this is enough…

“Komm!!” König finally ran back, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me back towards the trees. I shouldered the backpack and followed closely behind. We ran as fast as we could up the hill – I struggled to match König’s wide stride, but his grip on my wrist forced me to keep up, or risk getting it torn off if I slowed down.

The sound of a rifle firing nearby made us both jump. König must have assumed the battle stayed within the village walls, however, we were sorely mistaken. The bullets landed in the snow beside us, barely missing our backs. I looked over my shoulder and saw two enemy soldiers steadily following us, shooting in our direction as they clamored up the hillside. I mumbled a curse – König kept tugging me upwards as bullets whizzed by our heads.

“Keep moving!” he ordered – though it fell on deaf ears.

I tore my wrist from König’s grasp and ripped my assault rifle from over my shoulder.

“Scheisse – Bonnie!” he shouted angrily, but I ignored him. If I didn’t try to kill them now, they were going to follow us into the woods.

I fell to my stomach, aimed the gun, and fired. The first few bullets took out the closest soldier – the other one ducked low to the ground, and that combined with the angle of the hill made it harder to hit him. He took position and fired again, missing my leg by a few inches. I pressed myself down, steadying my aim, and fired a final, fatal bullet into his back. He jolted from the impact before falling limply against the snow.

König grabbed me by the collar and pulled me up. “Auf mich!” he shouted, ushering me in front of him. I ran ahead while he scanned across the hill one last time, before we both stumbled into the line of trees.

I did my best to steady my breathing as we continued to sprint, despite the adrenaline starting to wear off. My thighs and shoulders were burning as the effects of the fight were finally catching up to me. Branches from the trees whipped against my body as I ran, stinging and scratching against my skin. Eventually, König passed me – lucky bastard with those stupid-ass long legs – and took the lead, running further and further into the dense thicket of trees. He started to slow down, deciding that we had gotten far enough away from the village.

Retreat always left a sour taste on my tongue.

I rested my hands on my knees, gasping desperately for air. My throat felt like it was burning and my entire body was shaking from the post-adrenaline rush. König leaned against a tree, his head lolling back as his chest heaved up and down. We were both spent – at this point, if there was still anyone pursuing us, our best bet would have been to hide – or just surrender.

I straightened up, placing my hands on my hips and tilting my head back. God, this is going to hurt later. König pushed himself away from the tree. His breathing had slowed to a normal pace, although the stress on his body was evident in every other aspect.

“What was that?!” he spat, pointing back towards the field.

A deep, fiery anger quickly began to simmer in my chest. I slowly looked at König, hands still on my hips and my expression furious. “What the fuck was what, colonel?” I said, my tone clear as day: tread lightly.

“That stunt you pulled earlier.” He stood directly in front of me, looking down through his mask with obvious anger. “Fucking posting up on the hill like that, acting like-“

“You mean saving our goddamn lives?!” I stepped forward so that I was right up against him, despite having to crane my neck up to meet his gaze. “Doing my fucking job?”

“We were fine!” he seethed. “They weren’t hitting us, yeah?”

“Yeah – because I fucking killed them, you’re welcome!” I glared at him with an irate look. “They would have pursued!”

“You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“Well guess who’s alive and who’s dead, huh?!”

“You made yourself an easy target by stopping there!”

“Are you fucking blind?! Or deaf? Did you hear anything that I just said, dipshit?!”

“Vorsichtig…” König spat at me, sticking a thick finger in my face.

“I don’t speak dumbass.” I retorted.

König’s eyes widened with fury, and he leaned down so that his face was inches from mine. “Hör mal, du kleiner Mistkerl- “

Suddenly, he stopped. I continued to stare directly into his eyes, adorning my own defiant glare. He was looking back at me, however, he was focused on something else. He glanced over my head, in the direction of the battle. Realizing he spotted something, I froze in place and listened intently. After a few moments, we heard the sound of quick footsteps, distant, yet approaching. An irritated voice was shouting as they ran towards us through the trees.

We both turned and ran. König ducked behind a tree and grabbed my arm (perhaps I wasn’t fast enough for him to tolerate) – he pulled me against him, with an arm around my waist, holding my own against my sides. He pressed himself against the tree, and his hand roughly covered my mouth. I didn’t even say anything…

We waited silently, listening as the soldier drew nearer. König’s hand around my waist grew tighter by the second, and his hand pressed harder against my mouth, as if he thought I might yell out to the assailant. The footsteps grew closer – the person didn’t even try to mask the sounds they made, speaking loudly into their comm. “I lost sight of the runners.” She said.

Dumb bitch, we weren’t that fast.

“Copy.” She replied to the inaudible voice on her comm. She quickly slipped by us without taking notice of our bodies, not even twenty feet from her. Once we were behind her, König expertly maneuvered us to the other side of the tree, his hand never leaving my mouth. I struggled to breathe against it, as his entire hand covered from my chin to my nose. But we waited quietly for the footsteps to fade into the distance, and then some more, until König was satisfied that she was gone.

He released my mouth; I fell to my knees and gasped for air. “Holy shit-“ I wheezed.

“Sorry…” he said wearily; a complete one-eighty from his recent outburst. I waved a hand at him, signaling that it was ok. He waited in silence as I struggled to catch my breath. The tension from moments before had subsided, although not completely. König shuffled awkwardly on his feet, rubbing a hand on the back of his head.

“I didn’t need to say all that…” he finally spoke. “I was just… fick, I don’t even know. It was a close call.”

I got back onto my feet. “Don’t worry about it.” I said, clearing my throat and dusting my pants off. “Just curious, what did you even say? In German?”

König looked at me, unmoving. “Ah…” he rubbed the back of his head. “Use your imagination and you’d probably be right. I’d rather not get into any more trouble today.”

I nodded, choosing to let the topic slide. “I’m sorry too… I shouldn’t have said those things about you… to a fucking colonel, too.” I said with an apologetic chuckle.

König shrugged. “I’ve heard worse. What you said was tame.” He paused a moment, then broke away from my gaze, looking at his surroundings and sighing. He paused in the direction of where the soldier had disappeared into. “I wonder why she would move so far away from the fight…” he said,  “that seems reckless.”

I shrugged. “She was following orders.” I replied, rolling my shoulders and cracking my neck from side to side. “But the way she tracks is what’s piss-poor; heard that bitch from a mile away.”

König chuckled. “With a sniper rifle and a good angle, I could shoot her from here.” He held his hands up, positioning his non-existent gun on his shoulders, aiming in her direction. His shoulder blade was soaked in blood; something I hadn’t picked up before. It made me panic momentarily – when did he get that? Was that before or after we fled? – but I soon noticed that it wasn’t that deep. It needed to be patched up, for sure, but he wasn’t suffering from blood loss.

“Right, well“ - I slipped the backpack off of my shoulders and began rifling through it- “before we try chasing her down, you need stitches.”

Arms still in the air, König looked back at the cut. “Eh,” he began, reaching over to touch it. “I think I will be fine, this could be worse.”

I nodded and pulled out a suture kit. “Exactly: we’re gonna fix it before it does get any worse.” I pointed a finger at him. “On the ground, big guy.”

König dropped to his knees (a little too quickly) and stared up at me. I paused, shocked at the immediate obedience, and chuckled to myself. I got down on my knees, and König shifted to fully sit down so that I was at a comfortable level with his shoulder.

“You’re gonna need to take your shirt off.” I said. “I’m not tearing it up when it’s this cold. You’ll need it.”

König faltered, as if he was going to protest, but all that came from him was a sigh. He started with his arm guards, followed by his tactical belt, radio antenna, and his helmet, tossing them into a pile next to him. He pulled the hem of his shirt from his waistband, then paused. “Mask stays on.” He ordered.

I raised my hands defensively. “Fine by me.” I reached a hand under the back of his shirt, snaking it up and through the top of his collar. I could feel the smooth muscle of his back covered by a layer of sweat, despite the cold weather. I grabbed the back of his mask and pulled it back underneath his shirt. “Hold the front end under the shirt and then take it off. I’ll hold it back here.”

His breath hitched in his throat, followed by a very visible shiver. He reached through his shirt to grab the front end of his mask, before pulling the shirt over his head, wincing as it peeled away from his wound, and discarded it with the rest of his gear.

The cut was deep and angry, but thankfully it wasn’t terrible. König definitely needed stitches – luckily, that would be the only thing he needed. I grabbed a bottle of iodine solution from the kit as he watched, and he sighed. He pulled one of his gloves off and folded it between his teeth, preparing for the pain.

“Quick sting-“ I warned, popping the lid off of the bottle and pouring it sparingly over the wound. König inhaled sharply and groaned, barely muffled by the glove. I winced at his pain and mumbled an apology. I started threading a suture through his skin, focusing hard on being as gentle as possible. I could feel each fiber of his muscle tugging against the thread. His back was tense, flexed and unmoving as I worked. I peered at the scars on his back; some small, some long, some were thin lines, and others were wide gashes. Even a few bullet scars here and there. I noticed a dusting of freckles smattered across his upper back, thinning out the further down they traveled. Kinda looks like falling stars…

“Scheisse!” he suddenly growled, bringing me back to the situation at hand. Get it together – bad time to get distracted. I glanced up at him and watched as he breathed forcefully through the pain. He would suck a long breath in, before pushing it out between tightened lips, ending it with a small groan.

I looked back down to the wound and continued working. “Sorry, it shouldn’t be too much longer here.”

“Eh, you’re fine.” He said through clenched teeth. “I’ve done this plenty of times, though it never gets any easier.”

I tied off the last suture and grabbed the peroxide once more. I showed it to him as a heads-up. He chuckled. “Give me your hand for this one, yeah?”

I smirked and offered my hand, which he held tightly. He shoved the glove back into his mouth and faced the opposite direction, as if he was trying to be as far away from the pain as possible. I poured the solution on the stitched cut and he immediately hissed in pain. His hand squeezed mine with an inhuman amount of pressure, popping my knuckles and sending pain through my fingers, and I mumbled my own string of expletives. Remind me to never let him do that again. I quickly covered the wound with a piece of gauze and some tape, my hand still occupied by König’s.

“Sorry…” he said, releasing my hand.

I examined my fingers. “All good. I probably deserved that.”

“For what?” he asked, grabbing his shirt and slipping it back over his body.

“I dunno…” I said, leaning back on my heels as he turned to look at me. “I got you distracted on the field.”

“Anything could have distracted me. I’m glad it was just you…” He sat back against the tree. “… and nothing more dangerous.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “You don’t think I’m dangerous?” I quipped.

König laughed and shook his head. “At least not to me. The only thing I fear in you is your attitude. It’s quite sour.”

I scrunched my nose at his comment, followed by a playful jab to his shoulder. He inhaled sharply in pain and I winced, realizing that I had struck his wound. “Sorry!”

Night had fallen (quicker than we expected), and the forest was now freezing. We decided against making a fire, in case the enemy was still clearing out the field. I had been hoping and praying that the rest of them were alright: that Roze, Horangi, and everyone else had made it out of the village and into the woods somewhere, or at least managed to find evac, once they had gotten there. I would let myself freeze to death in the forest if I knew thy had died there. Still, the not knowing was almost worse.

König was pressing his back against a tree with his arms folded over his chest – surprisingly, he wasn’t shivering, but he still looked irritated with the current weather. He occasionally paced around our hiding spot, scanning the woods for any sign of… anything, really. But the world remained quiet, save the crunching of the ground under König’s heavy steps and my teeth clacking together.

I was frigid. I had crouched against the base of a tree, knees tightly scrunched to my chest with my arms tucked in between them. I was blowing warm breaths over my fingers – the fingertips of my gloves were cut off long ago to help have a better grip on things, and the current situation made me regret making that choice. My muscles twitched and shivered as my body tried to generate what little heat it could, which wasn’t much. My fingers and toes began to sting from the cold. Never thought I’d die from hypothermia… first time for everything, I guess.

König rubbed the sides of his arms, clearly not as cold as I was. He stopped pacing, watching me as the sound of my chattering echoed through the small patch of woods we were in. “You alright there?”

I nodded, never meeting his gaze. “P-eachy.” I said, my shivering taking over my voice.

“You won’t make like this before evac gets here.” He scanned the woods again, as if our rescue was about to come running through the trees any second now. Wishful thinking.

“Hopefully it d-oesn’t take that l-long for me t-o pass.” I joked. Neither König nor I found it funny.

König sighed. He dropped himself at the base of a tree and leaned back, spreading his legs in front of him. He looked at me and patted the ground in between them expectantly.

For a moment, I was taken aback enough to stop shivering. “Huh?”

“Come here.” He said, frustrated. “I’m trying to warm you up, blödmann. I’d rather not have you die right next to me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew whatever he called me was an insult. “No thanks, I’ll be f-fine.” I turned my head back down, exhaling warmth over my fingers. The thought of sitting in König’s lap like that was embarrassing, and something I was absolutely not about to do. Ever.

He stared at me, his eyes blank. I could feel the irritation radiating off of him, but I didn’t care. He couldn’t force me to do anything, and I know he wouldn’t try.

“It’s an order.” He stated firmly, his voice slightly deeper than before.

I looked at him with surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Are you forgetting that I’m a colonel?” he questioned, cocking his head to the side.

I scoffed. “Sometimes you forget- “

“I’m not going to repeat myself, sergeant.” He warned.

And there it was. That feeling. That electric zap in my lower abdomen. That stupid sensation that had got me in trouble with Ghost over a year ago. All from a single order from my superior. I stared at König, hoping my arousal wasn’t obvious, as I attempted to shank every single butterfly in my stomach. Christ, get it together you slut…

I sighed, standing up and moving towards König, who chuckled smugly. Rather than sit in between his legs, I planted myself next to him, our shoulders and hips touching. I brought my knees to my chest again while his remained splayed out in front of him. The excitement I felt earlier was gone, now replaced with an awkwardness. I couldn’t stop the small frown that settled on my face.

König froze at our touch, seeming to feel the awkwardness too. It was a bit amusing, seeing him flop between being cocky and sheepish. Eventually, he relaxed, ever so slightly leaning into my side. Soon, he gained enough courage to wrap an arm around my shoulders.

Reflexively, I tensed and pulled away a bit. “You don’t need – “

“I don’t want to hear it, Bonnie.” He said, pulling me back in. His words expressed superiority, yet his voice sounded anxious. “I’m keeping my teammate warm. I don’t want you to freeze to death out here. We’re benefitting each other, you know.”

I hesitated to give in; in all honesty, König was very warm… even his fingers. They gently rubbed the side of my arm through my sleeve, sending pins and needles through my skin as the feeling began to come back. My head fit easily against the side of his chest, and I felt good too… not even aroused, just safe. The stress from the mission and worrying about my team – it all was catching up to me, but now it was being absorbed into the warmth of König’s form.

I sighed, leaning against his body as a shiver ran up my spine. Under the smell of sweat and gunpowder, there was a hint of musk. I hated how it comforted me.

He felt my movement and chuckled. “Not so bad, huh?”

“Stuff it.” I replied curtly.

König laughed, charmed by my stubbornness, I assumed. “Here, give me your hands.” He opened his free hand and offered it to me. I reluctantly obliged, my sense of reason now being controlled by my dropping temperature. He was able to close his hand around both of mine, gently kneading my fingertips between his. The blood rushing back to my hands was painful, but the accompanied warmth was welcomed. I stared at his large hand massaging mine with half-lidded eyes; now that I felt safe, I realized how tired I had been for the past several hours.

“Thanks.” I mumbled. Even though I was feeling better, the situation was still embarrassing. I tried not to rely on people if I could help it.

“Go to sleep.” He said, ignoring my comment and letting go of my hands. “I’ll keep first watch. It’ll give you a few hours of rest.” He kept his gaze forward, aligned with the trees with an iron stare.

I huffed, tucking my hands into my sides and leaning into him further. I could sense he was just as apprehensive about our unfortunate situation, unwilling to acknowledge the tension between us – which was probably for the better. If we could hold off until evac reached us, we could pretend this had never happened. I let my eyes close, bristling against the contrast of the frigid air and König’s warm muscle, choosing to be thankful that I wasn’t out here alone – and that neither was he.

Right before sleep blanketed over my senses, gently pulling me down from awareness, I felt his arm shifting back around me to hold me closer. I smiled.

I startled awake from a dreamless sleep – pain shot through my fingers and toes when they tensed up. The freezing bite of the wind nipped at them, and they burned as my blood began to flow throughout my limbs.

I looked up at König, at poor, poor König…

He was still sitting upright, his one arm draped limply over my body. His eyes were fixed forwards on the tree line – they were narrowed against the chill of the wind, and dark bags had formed underneath them. His posture was slouched, and occasionally he would drift forwards, only to jerk himself back against the tree. He blinked slowly as he fought away the sleep.

“König?!” I pushed myself upright, staring at him with concern. “Oh my god, are you ok?!”

“Bitte,” he said, still looking at the trees ahead. “Ich muss schlafen…”

“What?”

“I need to sleep.”

“Shit, why didn’t you say something?” I asked, sitting up against the tree.

“I tried. You wouldn’t wake up.” His voice was gravelly from his lack of sleep. “You snored.”

“I- what?” I pulled my head back, looking up at him with an offended expression. “I snored?”

“Like a horse. May I please lie down?”

I scowled. That doesn’t even make any sense… I pressed myself against the tree trunk, ushering him to lean against me. “Yeah, you sleep, Colonel. I’ll keep a lookout.”

Instead of resting against my side, König completely flopped down into my lap. I let out an oof as he landed – it felt like a tree had just fallen on my legs. He let out a long, tired groan, his eyes finally closing for the night. He wrapped his arms around my thighs and hugged them close – his fingers were freezing, making me inhale sharply as he tucked them between my thighs for warmth. I didn’t even have the mental capacity to react to the gesture due to the frigidity.

“König-“ I began to protest.

“Es ist so kalt.”

“… huh?”

“It’s cold.” He mumbled.

I hovered my hands above his body, unsure of where to put them. I glanced around the dark woods, only being able to decipher one tree from the next by the light of the moon. Why am I nervous? There’s no one here but us.

That’s exactly why I was nervous.

I sighed, rubbing my hands roughly over König’s arms to warm him up. He grunted something in appreciation, squeezing my legs tighter. I bit my lip and prayed that he wouldn’t crush me. Despite his appendages being cold, his torso was relatively warm, still. As much as I hated to think about it, his current position over my body did a much better job at fighting the cold than how we had sat before.

“You gonna be alright?” I asked.

Silence. Then, a long, grating snore, akin to a chainsaw cutting through a tree trunk.

I huffed, patting his shoulder (the uninjured one). I leaned my head back against the tree trunk, fixing my gaze to the trees ahead of us. The forest was utterly silent, save for the occasional whisper of wind rustling through the leaves. Thankfully, the ground was spared from snow due to the thick coverage of the trees. My breath froze in the air, puffs of icy clouds wilting away before me. I looked back down at König: he was out like a light, face pressed into my hip and fingers clenching between my thighs.

Wish I had a camera.

Next ->

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix @v3lv3tvampir3 @theoneandonlykymberlee @luvvnightingalee @dillybuggg @sun-joo @perfectus-in-morte @evilive @satakingslime @comfortless @a-sadmilky @pinkslaystation @mocha-mooni @thatonetime01 @squidsal @yawning-grave81 @crazy-phan-girl13 @keepghostly @ghostslittlegf @rl800 @ellabellabunny123 @kneelforloki @jolie989 @crystalvape @spookyqueenduck @ceceher @venting402 @atticusdreams

[usafphantom2]

Legendary Pilot Bob Pardo, Who Pushed A Damaged F-4 With His F-4 Over Vietnam, Has Died

December 20, 2023 Military Aviation

Bob Pardo

Bob Pardo in a 2017 photo by Senior Airman Ridge Shan. In the background, Pardo's Push in an artwork by S.W. Ferguson.

Bob Pardo passed away earlier this month at the age of 89. With his Phantom, he pushed a crippled F-4 outside the enemy airspace in one of the most heroic missions in the history of military aviation, known as “Pardo’s Push”.

“Pardo’s Push” is the name of an incredible maneuver carried out during the Air War over North Vietnam that, over the years, has become the symbol of heroism and a demonstration of courage and contempt for danger.

March 10, 1967.

Captain Bob Pardo is flying in an F-4C with Weapon Systems Officer 1st Lt Steve Wayne. Their wingman is the F-4C flown by Captain Earl Aman with Weapon Systems Officer 1st Lt Robert Houghton. The two Phantoms of the 8th Tactical Fighter Wing, based at Ubon Royal Thai Air Force Base, Thailand, are assigned the task to attack a steel mill in North Vietnam north of the capital Hanoi.

During the approach to the target, both F-4 is hit multiple times by enemy’s anti-aircraft fire. The North Vietnamese flak causes significant damage to Capt. Aman’s aircraft whose fuel tank begins to leak fuel forcing the crew to abort the mission. While hit too, Pardo’s F-4 is able to continue its mission.

On their egress route, at 20,000 feet, Aman and Houghton determine that they do not have enough fuel to reach a tanker or Laos, where they could eject and avoid capture. Although his F-4 is still efficient and has enough fuel to reach a tanker, Pardo decides to remain with his wingman.

At a certain point, while still inside North Vietnamese airspace, Aman’s Phantom flames out. To save Aman and Houghton, Pardo decides to do something he believes no one has ever done before: he attempts to push the other F-4 to Laos.

Initially, Pardo tries to push the other F-4 by gently making contact with the drag chute compartment. However, turbulence interferes with the maneuver and after several failed attempts, Pardo opts for an extreme solution: he instructs Aman to lower his tailhook, then he positions his F-4 behind the other Phantom leaning his windscreen against the tailhook. The contact is made but the “solution” is quite unstable and, as a consequence of turbulence, Pardo needs to reposition his F-4 every 15 to 30 seconds. Nevertheless, the push works and rate of descent of Aman’s Phantom is considerably reduced.

As if the situation was not complicate enough, Pardo’s F-4 suffers an engine fire, forcing him to shut it down.

Try for a second to visualize the situation: a flame-out F-4 is somehow pushed by means of its tailhook by another F-4 powered by a single engine. In enemy airspace. Incredible.

Ezoic

Pardo pushes Aman’s F-4 for another 10 minutes until his Phantom runs out of fuel too. With both planes safely inside Laotian airspace, at an altitude of about 6,000 feet, the aircrews of both F-4s ejects (they will be rescued by SAR helicopters and evade capture).

Although he saved another aircrew, Pardo was initially reprimanded for not saving his own F-4. Until 1989, when the episode was re-examinated and both Pardo and Wayne were awarded the Silver Star.

Retired Air Force pilot Lt. Col. Bob Pardo poses in front of a static display model of an F-4 Phantom II, one of the many fighter aircraft he has flown, at Luke Air Force Base, Ariz., Dec. 12, 2017. (U.S. Air Force photo/Senior Airman Ridge Shan)

Pardo and Aman both continued serving and retired from the U.S. Air Force in the rank of lieutenant colonel. Years later, after learning that Aman had lost his voice and mobility because of Lou Gehrig’s disease, created the Earl Aman Foundation that raised enough money to buy Aman a voice synthesizer, a motorized wheelchair, and a computer. The foundation later contributed to raise funds to pay for a van, which Aman used for transportation until his death. In other words, Pardo never left his wingman behind, not even after retiring.

Ezoic

Noteworthy, as told by John L. Frisbee in his 1996 article for Air Force Magazine, Pardo’s push was not the first time a U.S. pilot pushed another jet out of enemy airspace: in 1952, during the Korean War, fighter ace Robbie Risner pushed his wingman out of North Korea in an F-86. However, pilots were ordered to refrain from attempting the hazardous maneuver again, and the episode had faded from memory and was almost completely unknown within the Air Force by the time Pardo and Wayne pushed Aman and Houghton outside of North Vietnam’s airspace.

Bob Pardo passed away aged 89, on Dec. 5, 2023. His courage and ingenuity, along with the legendary “Pardo’s Push“, will be remembered forever.

About David Cenciotti

David Cenciotti is a journalist based in Rome, Italy. He is the Founder and Editor of “The Aviationist”, one of the world’s most famous and read military aviation blogs. Since 1996, he has written for major worldwide magazines, including Air Forces Monthly, Combat Aircraft, and many others, covering aviation, defense, war, industry, intelligence, crime and cyberwar. He has reported from the U.S., Europe, Australia and Syria, and flown several combat planes with different air forces. He is a former 2nd Lt. of the Italian Air Force, a private pilot and a graduate in Computer Engineering. He has written five books and contributed to many more ones.

@Aviationist via X

[megamindsecretlair]

First of all Happy New Years and how’re you doin?? I really hope you’re doin well and thriving and your loved ones are doin the same❤️

Second of all I had a thought while high that I needa get out:

Imma mess for domestic Taine. Just takin care of his woman an shit. He likes takin care of her mental load and just truly makin her feel relaxed an shit. Which brings me to his hands….he’s so beefy wit protective ass arms and he’s just ugh🤌 like imagine you had a trash ass day (school, work, family, etc) an he just caresses and massages you, tryna soften you up so youn gotta gts upset or stressed. Lights candles, brings out ya favorite oils/lotions, he even rolls a blunt for you both. He’s givin you deep tissue booty/thigh rubs and ik for a fact his strength channeled through his fingers would make me all mushy an shit….

Along that thought, he can’t help (an youn stop him) but spread ya cheeks a bit, just ta peek at ya folds, only ta see em all gushy an shit. That was a mistake because now he reeeally can’t help himself. You’re all pliable under him and he dips his fingers into ya folds “just ta taste” he tells himself. But he’s dippin into you again…and again…and again till he just says fuck it and devours you from the back. I’m talkin the messy, droolin, beard shiny a shit typa pussy eatin. You just cease to exist cuz he feels too too good. Taine is just maneuvering/manhandling your body any which way and you’re loving it, you’re loving your man. And What were you upset bout again? It’s out the window now.

Phew, glad I got that outta my system🤭

Happy New Year! Many blessings to you and ya fam! I'm getting over Covid. That is the literal devil and I'm glad to be on the other side!

And secondly...why you aint on here writing with the rest of us? Tuh. This was hot and complete all by its lonesome, you don't need me for this one, lordt!

Re-reading and re-reading all night because I, too, want that gorgeous man's big mitts on me.

If You Please

Word Count: 691

A/N: Finally a little drabble! I still write a lot but ya'll caught me on a feral night. There's no big warnings besides oral (fem receiving) and Fontaine being a horny mess. This ask was everything. Not sure if you wanted me to add to it, but couldn't help myself! Excuse me while I go re-read and re-read and re-read.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide

And Fontaine is the type to take his time because HE wants to take his time. Because HE can't keep his hands off of you. If you had a bad day? That's okay, he'll work that shit out. Had a good day? He wants to pick you up and taste the happiness from your lips.

But a particularly bad day? Oh, he already had the bath running and candles lit while you talked to him on the way home. How you wanted him to show up with a helicopter and transport you home because you were dog tired. Tiredt!

And after your bath, he does all the work. He dries you off and lays kisses all over your face and body while he towels you down. Leads you to the bed where he lays out a fresh warm towel from the dryer. Makes you lay on your back first so he can rub lotion and smell good into your deep brown skin.

Take his time to work the body cream onto your arms, shoulders, stomach. Smooth it around your breasts because he just can't resist touching you. He rubs the top of your legs, really working his thick fingers into your thighs and finding all these tension knots you didn't know were there.

Then he asks you to flip over and you are putty in his hands. Free to mold you in his arms. To play with your hips and valleys and treasure the canvas God gave him. He rubs your back and your legs. But your ass.

Fontaine is an ass man. Nothin' sweeter than seeing those two big ol' cheeks begging to be claimed by those hands of his. It's so much he can't hold it all. But he loves trying. He loves trying to cup each cheek to see how much he can hold before your ass spills over. He loves to massage your ass.

He loves to watch the grooves and dimples he makes in your ass. The little glimpses of your pussy when he spreads your cheeks are a torture all their own. Got him bricked up and mouth droolin' just from that alone. His tongue glides over his golden grills as he can remember the last time he ate you out, just last night. How pliable and verbal you were.

One little taste won't hurt right? It's your body, he wants you to feel good all over. What better stress relief, right? He wipes his hands on the towel. He can't resist digging his fingers in and suppressing a groan at finding you wet as hell. He knew his hands on you turned you on, but not like this!

Now he really can't resist bringing your sweet essence to his lips and licking his fingers. He can't stop at one taste. Once he tasted you, he had to keep diving in for more. And more until you were sighing and moaning just the way he liked.

"Too tired," you mumbled.

"Too tired to lay there, mama?" He asked.

You couldn't argue with that logic. He didn't need anything back. He just wanted to make you feel good. Making you feel good, made him feel good. And he already got his reward. He was lifting your hips, spreading you wide, and placing his mouth against your pussy and suckling like a starving man to nectar.

He couldn't help groaning and rocking his own hips into the bed, wishing he could flip you over and fuck you. But he wasn't going to be that greedy. He could give. He could give and give until you were a shaking, trembling mess beneath his tongue. Hands splayed on your ass, spreading you open and wide for him.

His nasty little slurps filled the air. His desperate pulls for air blowing against your dripping pussy. Your weak arms grasping the pillow and pulling it close while you came in his mouth. Gushing and dripping all that succulent arousal.

Well, you weren't that tired anymore. As much as you left your job bone tired and weary, unsure how you could possibly go another day, you always found solace in 'Taine's arms.

The Secret Tyrone Files - there's always more!

[writingoddess1125]

Gigs

This Fine Lady has been in my drafts for like- 8 Months??? Please excuse grammer issues, i didnt re-read it

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Masterlist

0200 Hours Barrancas Del Cobre

The rhythmic thumping of rotor blades echoed through the open sky as Gigs skillfully maneuvered the large military helicopter through the turbulent skies. TF 141, clad in their tactical gear, secured safely inside and ready for the upcoming mission.

"Ready for quick action Pilot Gigs? May have to make a smooth landin lass" Price called to you, walking to your chair as you glanced back at the man.

"Nah Cap, I' like it slow'~ Especially with Becks Sh's a romantic~" Gigs said with a laugh patting the helicoper stick at the made up nickname for the vehicle, earning a few giggles from the boys in the back.

"Ohh A romantic I see, well a romantic with this many men with big guns? Would mistake for a slag-" Price said earning a loud laugh from Gigs as they went through a mountain pass, the trip had been smooth sailing so far.

However it seemed smooth sailing wasnt a guarantee. Ghost glancing back as he saw two dots coming behind them- Fast.

"Gigs!- Company" He loudly announced, the crew looking back as Gigs clicked her tongue.

"Well Shit! Hold on tight, boy's it’s ’bout to get rough!" Gigs cackled, fixing her helmet as she kicked up the helicopter towards a tighter canon pass, seeing two attack copters getting closer.

"Price! Look in my bag 'eal quick, you need a good shot"

She hollered out, the men preparing for a air attack as Price went to the back of the copter to the pilots coop, reaching in as he couldn't help but raise a brow.

Pulling back a Pila Launcher, With a few rounds of ammo as well. Price walking to the door as he slid it open, the men taking a look at the launcher of choice.

Alejandro looking to Gigs with a terrified laugh- "You keep this on hand!?"

"Oh Bless You Darlin' you shou'd see wha' I keep in my panty dra'er" She said with a wink and smile as she flicked up some keys, Grunting as she saw the two on her tail and flicked up the gas.

Lets Fuckin Go-

As she zips through the canyon, dodging enemy fire, the team bracing themselves hard, holding the leather straps as they felt gravity slamming against them. The enemy helicopters are hot on their tail, as sound of gunfire from them heard- but Gigs is in her element. She dips the chopper into a tight barrel roll, narrowly avoiding a missile that streaks past, exploding against the canyon wall.

"How the bloody hell are we still in the air!?" Gaz shouts, gripping his seat for dear life. Ghost grabbing his vest to keep against the seat as he hissed himself at the harsh movements.

"Cause I’m just that damn good baby!" Gigs yells back, her voice full of adrenaline-fueled excitement. Price loading the Launcher as best as he could, his body slamming into the copter side, Alejandro grabbing him to steady as the doors swung open. Price holding steady as he aimed at the closest helicopter-

"One Down! Need to reload!" Price yelled out as contact was struck, Starting to reload as fast as possible. Gigs glanced around quickly however, knowing the second copter could take them down especially when she saw missles fire- till her eyes spotted the canyon wall.

"Fuck Fuck Fuck!"

Gigs pulls the chopper into a steep climb up the canyon, gaining altitude fast.

"Come on Beck's!, Clime for me sug!" She yelled out as the boys felt themselves go vertical.

"You're Fuckin' Mental!" Soap yelled out with a laugh as he felt his feet dandle from the seat.

"Time for some fireworks, boys!" She flips a switch, and flares shoot out from the helicopter, confusing the incoming missiles that explode harmlessly in the sky perfectly turning the guns on the remaining copter-

"Gotcha You Bitch!"

A whistle of excitement leaving Gigs as she howled and shot down on the copter watching it explode fust a few hundred yards from them.

"WOO!"

Gigs laughed out as she zipped through the canyon to a lower pass, close to the drop off point were she would need to hide out.

The men in the back a bit frazzled by the fast pace combat and worrying excitement from their female pilot.

0600 Landing Spot

After securing their landing the group disbanded from the helicopter, Gaz who was familiar with helicopter trauma seemed ready to simply walk back to London at this point..

"Ill be here waiting for y'all" Gigs told them, The men nodding in understanding as they gave a short brief at the task at hand. However Soap eyes began to wonder over the female pilot specifically her ass.. Seeing how he couldn't tell if he saw attracted to her, attracted to the crazy- or both- however his wondering eye was quickly caught as she looked Soap immediately and locked eyes with him.

Soap felt a bit intimidated by how she looked him up and down, like she was mentally doing math on him.

"What?" He questioned, which seemed to make her smile.

"Youre goin on a date with me pretty boy" She said suddently, Patting his vested chest with a smirk before walking off.

"Pretty boy?" He scoffed, glancing around at the rest of the team staring at him and Alejandro suppressing giggles.

"How it feel Soap getting a date with her?" Gaz said as he slapped the man's back who was just now realizing what happened.

"I got a date?-" He innocently asked, looking to Ghost who nodded softly in confirmation.

"I got a date!?"

[starstruckbyacomet]

BUCK & TOMMY - How Tim Minear Turned A Potential Disaster into A Masterpiece

Originally, Tommy was supposed to be paired with Eddie. As Lou Ferrigno Jr. said in an interview:

“It was originally, possibly going to be with Eddie and Tommy, but that fell through.”

Link to source:

Meanwhile, Tim Minear had a big story for Buck & Natalia's for Season 7.

“I thought that [Oliver and Annelise] were great together,” says Minear. “But, I think after the long strike and after the pandemic… [Annelise] is based in New York, and it was partially her decision to not return for this premiere. I originally had a big story in there with that character. ”

Link to source:

However, Annelise Cepero, the actress who played Natalia, decided not to come back in Season 7.

Addressing Annelise's exit, showrunner Tim Minear confirmed that it had been an "amicable parting of ways," and that she had made the decision to leave as a result of various logistical factors, including the 2023 writers' and actors' strikes. 

Link to source:

Then, Tim Minear planned to pair Buck with Lucy Donato. All seemed well until Arielle Kebbel, the actress who played Lucy, cancelled her involvement for Season 7.

“Originally, when the 118 needed a pilot to get them to that overturned cruise ship, Lucy was my first thought,” showrunner  Tim Minear tells TVLine of Arielle Kebbel’s character, now a member of the LAFD’s air support team. “But she couldn’t be my pilot… because she got a pilot,” he adds, referring to Kebbel’s casting in the Fox lifeguard drama Rescue: Hi Surf.

Link to source:

Arielle's cancellation appeared to be in the last minutes. Some eagle-eyed fans even said to see Lucy's name on the documents which Hen brought to harbor in Episode 7x04.

Tim ran out of time, and ran out of options. With only 10 episodes in Season 7, there was no room to introduce a new love interest for Buck. He had to maneuver. He switched Tommy to be with Buck, while Marisol would be with Eddie for a little longer. Both Tommy and Marisol didn't need introduction.

Part of that moving train was figuring out how the 118 would make their way to Bobby and Athena out on that sinking cruise ship last week. Minear originally planned for Lucy (Arielle Kebbel) to be their helicopter pilot. But when Kebbel wasn't available, he had to pivot.

"So I went to the next logical place, which was Tommy. It's even mentioned in [the season 2 episode] Broken that he's the one who does the water drop. We don't see him on screen, but it's Chimney who calls him. So it felt like, 'Okay, well here's a character who's actually been in the show that I don't know that much about,'" he says. "So I thought, 'Lou's really interesting. I wonder if he would feel comfortable going down this road....'"

Link to source:

The biggest clue about how Buck & Tommy's pairing was originally unplanned is how sudden Oliver Stark was informed about it.

“I wasn’t so much told, as asked,” Stark said, recalling the pitch call he received from series co-creator Tim Minear around Episode 3 of this season.

Oliver was told/asked while he was filming Episode 3, while the first kiss should happen in Episode 4. With such a limited time, Oliver only managed to discuss the scene with Lou the day before the shooting of the first kiss, as he disclosed in an interview:

“We had a phone call the day before and discussed how we thought the scene might go...”

Link to source:

Buck's bisexuality reveal is a big thing for the show, since it has been hinted since Season 2.

Co-creator and showrunner Tim Minear breaks down the midseason finale of the hit ABC procedural drama, including his decision to have Oliver Stark’s Evan Buckley explore his attraction to a former male firefighter: “This part of him has been coded into the show at least since season two."

Link to source:

In a normal situation, there's no way Oliver would be informed about such an important storyline in a very short notice. Arielle's sudden cancellation must have really shaken things up for the show. Thankfully, Tim is an accomplished showrunner with decades of experience under his belt. His maneuver was proven to be successful. Buck & Tommy's scenes on Episode 7x04 had generated so much buzz on social media, which was a valuable promotion for the show.

Since then, this storyline has been the subject of much discussion on social media, making 9-1-1 one of the few network shows to become appointment viewing in today’s crowded TV landscape.

Link to source:

Positive responses from the general audience even prompted Oliver to thank them on his Instagram:

“Humbled and overwhelmed by the positive reaction to Buck’s storyline,” Stark wrote on his Instagram Story on Saturday. “I’ve read so many of your messages and I couldn’t be prouder.”

Link to source:

A big part of the success is Oliver and Lou's performance, whose acting and chemistry have been off the charts and captured the hearts of the audience. Tim also specifically praised Oliver's performance in an interview:

“...Oliver just played the hell out of it. Everything that I wanted to express with the writing, he expressed with the acting.”

To be told that he had successfully brought the showrunner's vision out of his performance must be one of the highest praises an actor could get. Congratulation, Oliver! You deserve it.👏👏👏👏👏

Link to source:

Lou's performance in Season 7 seems also well-received by the showrunner and the general audience alike. By the time Episode 7x06 aired (when Tommy had appeared in 4 episodes as the original plan), 9-1-1 had been ABC’s most-watched current series across all platforms this season, according to Disney.

It currently stands as ABC’s most-watched current series across all platforms this season, according to Disney. 

Link to source:

https://deadline.com/2024/04/9-1-1-malcolm-jamal-warner-guest-star-1235879369/

Tommy's appearance in Season 7 increased from the original plan of 4 episodes to 6 episodes. He even appeared on the final episode of Season 7, in a dinner date with Buck in Buck's loft. It was only under one minute, and didn't really move their storyline forward. That scene seems unimportant compared to other characters' stories. It begets a question, why did Tim spend some precious time on the last episode of the season for that scene? Such time arguably would be better spent to show more heartfelt reactions of the 118 family when Bobby woke up from his coma. Was it to satisfy the general audience, because Tommy appearance increased viewership?

In overall, Season 7 seems to be another success for the show. CBR even hailed it as 'better than ever' in the title of its article.

One of TV's Best Procedurals Is Better Than Ever.

9-1-1 has cemented itself as one of television's hottest primetime dramas with its latest season, which elevated the series’ storytelling to a whole new level

The article also acknowledged Buck & Tommy's storyline as a crowd-pleaser, and praised it for giving the audience some of the season’s most endearing scenes.

This development was more than a crowd-pleaser — it also paved the way for some of the season’s most endearing scenes, courtesy of Oliver Stark’s infectious energy.

Link to source:

https://www.cbr.com/911-season-7-greatest-season/

With all the above achievements and acknowledgements, it is safe to say that Tim Minear has successfully turned a potential disaster to a glorious success. Kudos to you, Tim!👍👍👍 Enjoy the moment, while we wait patiently for what you have for us in the next season. We know it would be as good, maybe even better compared to the last one 😉.

[rottenpumpkin13]

It’s time to upgrade the vehicle choice to the company helicopters. AGSZC and the Turks + Rufus, who is the best, the worst, and the one who can fly it but can’t land it.

• Sephiroth is an excellent pilot, probably the most competent you'll find. He learned to fly helicopters when he was very young, has a knack for handling even the toughest situations, and his composure and precise maneuvers make him the go-to pilot in any crisis.

*Sephiroth is flying the helicopter*

Lazard: You're going a little too fast.

Sephiroth: Have you ever considered crashing a helicopter, faking your own death, and then living on a deserted island with stray cats until you can repurpose the helicopter’s parts to build a weapon for exacting revenge on your enemies?

Lazard: NO?

• Genesis boasts that he's the best pilot around and can indeed fly fairly well. But he requires intense focus and hates any distractions. He will snap at anyone who tries to talk to him while he's flying. ....scratch that, it depends on the topic.

*In the helicopter, Angeal sneezes*

Genesis: DON'T TALK TO ME! I WILL FLY US INTO THE FUCKING SUN I SWEAR TO THE GODDESS! THEY WILL BE FINDING VESTIGES OF OUR CORPSES FOR YEARS! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?

Angeal: I think you should scream less.

*Genesis abandons the control*

Genesis: Did you just say loveless? Because I was thinking about the beauty of 'world's end' in act one, and—

Angeal: WE'RE FALLING

• It's a mystery how Angeal passed the pilot test, and even he's baffled why they keep entrusting him with the helicopter. He wishes they'd stop assigning him flying duties.

*Angeal is flying the helicopter*

Angeal: Are you sure I should be flying this thing?

Sephiroth: Of course. You're the responsible one.

*Angeal is flying the helicopter in circles*

Sephiroth: I trust you to land this helicopter responsibly.

*Angeal misses the helipad completely and is now doing zig zags*

Sephiroth: I value your responsibility.

*They are literally upside down*

Sephiroth: Land the helicopter, Angeal.

Angeal: LaNd tHe HeLiCoPtEr AnGeAl—WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M TRYING TO DO?

*And now they're flying into the side of the building*

Sephiroth: Meet the goddess.

• Zack is completely bewildered as to why no one trusts him to fly a helicopter. Sure, he might have driven a car into a ditch once, and maybe he accidentally set a motorcycle on fire, but he's confident in his flying skills! He insists he's super competent and is always ready to prove it—just ask anyone (except Tseng. Tseng hears "Zack Fair" and "helicopter" in the same sentence and has a nervous breakdown).

*In the helicopter*

Zack: Thanks for coming with me. For some reason, the other guys are too scared to fly with me.

Cloud, wearing a helmet, extra padding, and holding a rosary: WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WE CRASHED! WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN!

Zack: Are you dead?

Cloud: No, but—

Zack: Success.

• Cloud's piloting skills are on par with Sephiroth's....though no one knew this until the first time he flew a helicopter.....Cloud doesn't have a license....people are confused and scared.

*Cloud is flying the helicopter*

Sephiroth: Strife, your piloting skills are excellent. Where did you learn to fly like this?

Cloud: Oh, I never learned.

Sephiroth: But you're flying the helicopter.

Cloud: Nothing gets past you, does it, sir?

Sephiroth:

• Rufus is adept at flying helicopters, but he rarely flies them because he has pilots and the turks to fly him anywhere he wants. He's also very stubborn.

Tseng: Sir, you might want to slow down a bit.

Rufus: I know what I'm doing, Tseng. I'll have you know that I fly better than most birds.

*Rufus doesn't avoid the incoming flock of birds and nearly crashes the helicopter into the building*

Rufus: ......

Tseng: They heard you.

[emo-batboy]

After the flood, The Batman uses his grappling hook and other gadgets to expertly maneuver his way to sections of the city that are inaccessible.

He can’t rescue victims on his own because the hook can only carry so much weight so he lights flares on the roofs of buildings where people are trapped and two flares if someone needs immediate medical attention.

He relays more information through Gordon about how many people there are, whether or not they’re accessible by boat or helicopter. A paramedic team provides him with a walkie talkie and rudimentary first aid training, only to learn that The Batman is already an expert in EMT protocol and how to provide CPR for over twenty minutes if necessary.

The only people he can safely evacuate himself are small children. (The “safety” is still shaky, but the Bat refuses to leave children behind. The paramedics hesitantly provide him with child and infant evacuation harnesses in hopes they’ll help.) Some kids don’t want to leave their parents so The Batman waits for up to an hour to make sure they’re rescued. Other children’s parents refuse to trust the masked vigilante with their child’s safety. He accepts that but makes sure to let the paramedics know this one is also priority.

But some desperate parents, especially those with newborns, have no choice but to trust him if it means their children get medical attention sooner. He has blank hospital bands and a few pens with him so the parents can write down their name, birth date, allergies, an emergency contact outside of the city, etc. As long as they’re lighter than 90 lbs, he has no doubt he’ll be able to bring their child to safety.

The orphanage takes two days to evacuate, and many of the staff and kids are apprehensive of him at first, but by the afternoon, The Batman has helped twenty kids to safety and found a safe landing spot on the building for a helicopter to fly. The hospital was, of course, also a priority, and The Batman evacuated many patients there, but it was thankfully up to date on evacuation protocol and took just under a day.

He rescues cats and small dogs and a pet lizard at one point too, all with their own hospital band with the owner’s info or wherever they were found scrawled on it. The Batman performs CPR on drowning victims, most of whom he was too late to save, but he does it anyway, over and over and over and over again.

He learns that kids are more likely to trust him if he carries stickers and lollipops to help calm them down. It feels manipulative the first few times he does it. He also wonders if he should bring something healthier, but he doesn’t have enough pockets, and the kids and parents weirdly trust him more when he asks what their favorite flavor is. (It also helps when he finds a few diabetics suffering from low blood sugar.)

By the end of his fifth day, The Batman has several stickers on his suit that he can’t bear to take off because the kids smile more when they see them. Somehow, he finds room in one pocket to fit a stuffed dog for the kids that are afraid of heights but need to be evacuated as soon as possible.

His cape makes for a good emergency shock blanket. He coaches many survivors through panic attacks and grief-stricken anxiety attacks. He tells them how to breathe and asks them to count down from 12 with him.

At one point, a kid asks for his name. The Bat’s never had to answer that question to someone that isn’t a criminal. He’s not vengeance anymore. That’s behind him. He’s just a guy in a gothic, bat-themed suit of armor. That name GCPD gave him, The Batman, comes to mind. He never really gave himself that. “The Batman” is too formal and ominous for a child anyway. He thinks for a moment then says he’s “Batman.”

[alchemistc]

WIP Wednesday

Coming in with only a few hours left in this Wednesday but Goon is still refusing the tweaking I'm doing to it and up until about 4AM this morning I didn't actually have any drafts in the bank that would maybe see the light of day.

tagged by @cliophilyra and @firehose118, thank you guys!

Here's some more "Buck and Tommy met at the poker game" AU:

"Ours just say 'Need mo' joe," Buck says, and his eyes take in the wide ridges of Tommy's smile. They're three beers deep and the little tasting tree set between them has long been shoved off to the side, mostly so that Tommy could fold up a paper menu into a little origami helicopter to demonstrate the science behind flying one. He's - he's the kinda cool that sneaks up on you: a deadpan joke layered over a wry grin, the sort of guy who could fireman carry someone Buck's size but still knows how to make delicate things, and Buck is so fucking glad he'd made that call, earlier on the week. He's not hurting for friends, but the draw he'd felt to get to know Tommy hadn't released any tension even as Tommy had described updraft and gestured at the imaginary dash he'd seen in his minds eye as he explained some of the crazier maneuvers he's pulled off. "Is that why you called me? Looking for a badass coffee mug?" The question feels... off. Leading. Buck doesn't have a single idea where it's going, but it feels like it's going somewhere. And he doesn't know where, or how to answer without sounding like he's completely lost his mind. "Nah, I just - the poker game was fun, the other night. Just thought it'd be fun to hang out somewhere where Chief Williams wasn't secretly annoyed Eddie brought me along to see if we could cheat Vegas out of some cash." There's a flicker of something in Tommy's eyes that catches the interest of the little worm inside Bucks brain that hasn't been able to focus on anything but Tommy in days, but it's gone before Buck can get a read on it. "Counting cards isn't technically cheating," Tommy intones, and his Adams apple bobs when he takes another drag off his lager. It'd been a little too sweet for Buck's taste, but now he catches himself wishing there was enough left in the beer tree for him to taste it again. "Is that an argument you've ever won against a pit boss?" Tommy's laugh is smooth and warm, and his eyes crease when he smiles, the blue irises bright behind dark lashes. "What kind of stake do you have to drop that a pit boss is even gonna notice you cleaning up?" He points a finger. "Don't forget, I know your salary."

[unconventional-user]

Statuesque

I'm crawling out the sewers to re-introduce myself. Plus new blog yay!

König and Reader are relatively almost the same height SO I DONT WANNA HEAR NO CANON THAT READER IS 5 FOOT SOMETHING NO THEYRE LIKE 6'5 HELL PROBABLY EVEN TALLER-

Anyways, as you can tell I know nothing about the military nor COD, only what I've read and seen. Shoot me. Reader is intended to be gn overall but correct me in case.

pairing: könig x tall!reader 

• warning(s): uhhhh idk, kinda sucks? (I tried)

• word count: 2.7k

* This work was created by @unconventional-user, no re-post(s), you may, however, re-blog. Thank you. *

'How tall are you?'

'Are you a basketball player?'

'Do you wear heels?'

'How's the weather up there?'

These questions were a constant occurrence whenever leave took place. It was a reminder how annoying and entitled people were at times.

Luckily, deployment had come quickly most times, so you wouldn't have to deal with them often.

It's not like there was anything to head back to when 'off duty' anyway.

Parents were several countries overseas as well as other family, friends, and folk. So being called back often wasn't a rare occurrence nor was it annoying...

After joining the Air Force, it was expected of your squadron to work alongside certain groups. You happened to be the lucky few that helped aid the Special Air Services pretty often. It was mainly with transports as well as to help fly troops on missions.

It was nice. Some of the best times honestly.

Britain was a really cool place too.

But the constant travelling back and fourth, US to UK kind of left this uncertainty of which place was your 'true' home.

Almost like an identity crisis sort of.

So after some thinking and request of separation, you moved countries alongside joining the British Army.

Many more years later you're a part of the Special Air Services.

You could say the years in the Air Force might've helped a bit by leaving such positive feedback to them when SAS asked about their new soldier.

Judging from their background, they described as if the "golden child" for helicopter pilots was amongst them:

A once in a lifetime.

A relic of some sorts.

A phenomen.

According to them, you knew how to maneuver the damn chopper 'as if you built it yourself'.

Thus becoming a well recognized name amongst the special forces more specifically.

You'd like to thank the impeccable flying skills for landing you on such a radar.

Still, most of your work went unnoticed the first couple of years in SAS til' they eventually caught someone's eye later on:

"That's some amazing skills there—hello, we haven't met. My name is Kate."

The communication analyst would keep in touch with you after that. She claimed a specific task force officer asked for your wings.

"You know how to maneuver a helicopter better than anyone I've seen in a while. And I'm not the only one who's seen you in action."

Years pass after that, you're still on par with transporting soldiers and the Task Force 141, means you must be doing something right…right?

Shaking off the commotion of thoughts, you drove till the view of a familiar, bordered gateway appeared.

Upon entry, it was time to head over to your station.

-

Some inspections and loadings later, a shout was heard from afar. Turning towards the culprit, it was none other than Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish.

"Long time no see, aye bonnie?"

Leaning against the rails of the helicopter, he gave a smile. In return you gave one back as you finished clearing the aircraft as: PASS.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant," you chuckled, "I believe I saw you yesterday."

Ignoring the matter-of-fact, he continued on, "Call me Soap. Remember, yer one of us."

Smiling awkwardly, you pretend to re-inspect one of the throttles once again.

To be 'considered' a part of task 141 was…a weird feat or way to put it overall. You were in their squadron as their pilot, but you weren't necessarily with them. You weren't a part of their briefings or any of that.

You were separate from them.

The only one who really 'considered' you as part was Sergeant MacTavish.

Not to say the others were assholes or something. Lieutenant Ghost often would brief a 'good job' or 'nice maneuvering' to you once in a while.

Sergeant Garrick and Captain Price also acknowledged you from time to time, always greeting when deemed necessary.

To put it into simple words…they like your flying skills. You're like a designated pilot for them sort of.

'Way to make it sound like you're just a chauffeur-'

Shaking the thoughts aside once more, you focused on what Johnny said.

"Come again, Sergeant?"

The man chuckled, shaking his head but repeated himself once more. He always found you cute yet attractive. A true bonnie. These small actions never ceased to add to his attraction towards you.

Plus, he liked them tall. He could only imagine you in heels now…

"Wait…so you guys are gonna team up with a whole 'nother group for the mission?" You asked.

Great. Now he had to shake his thoughts aside. Clearing his throat, Johnny nodded.

"Price got told he needed backup for this one. Apparently it's too risky to go alone."

"Sounds rough."

"Aye, Ghost ain't too fond of the idea either."

Didn't look like he was too happy about the situation as well.

Nodding, you understood the lieutenant's 'worry' about being aided by a private contractor unit. Another responsibility and potential liability overall.

Trying to look on the bright side of things, at least they'll be more careful.

"Well…better safe than sorry, right? Plus you guys won't be so bored on the ride there!" You internally cringed at your feeble attempt to cheer the man up.

Hey, at least it made him laugh though.

"Ye ready to deal wit' another crew of dafties 'en, bonnie?"

Laughing, you closed the door to the aircraft.

"I'll see you in a bit, las."

-

The briefing ends; said Austrian begins heading towards the designated lockers.

Kortac had been called back by the SAS, unsurprisingly. They’d worked alongside the particular military service before (more than a few times).

The report claimed a certain special ops unit would need some assistance on an important mission. The team was ordered to help aid as a “battering ram” of sorts, both pre and post mission.

Of course they knew just who to send alongside for additional aid to the team.

König rolled his eyes, slamming the locker in frustration. He really didn’t want to be here at all. In his eyes, he was assisting a potential enemy. The SAS wasn’t necessarily a foe to KorTac, but it’s not like they were allies either.

So case in point (to König), he was being forced to help the potential enemy.

There were other soldiers sent alongside König. One of them looked over at him, an eyebrow raised, “Alles gut?”

König looked over at the soldier and said nothing, hood completely concealing his annoyed face. He’d rather be anywhere else than here if he’s being honest.

Heading towards the helipad, where he’d meet the rest of his ‘team’ mates, König tripled checked his tactical gear on him before stepping onto the designated helicopter.

His eyes narrowed onto a familiar face—or rather a mask—he had met before. Ghost simply responded back to König’s hostile stare vice versa. Neither said anything, but sat on opposite sides of one another.

No mind was paid to the rest that got onto the helicopter, except for Sergeant MacTavish, who made his entrance known with a hearty laugh followed by an annoyed looking Sergeant Garrick.

After the rest got settled in, Captain Price stood center and went over some key details again, mainly about KorTac’s assistance on the mission. König felt someone’s eyes on him as a chill ran along his neck. He turned his head and saw the same soldier from earlier at the lockers move to sit next to him. Said soldier looked away nervously to avoid the blue eyes.

Komisch. König narrowed his eyes in confusion, but remained silent overall. He felt the soldier lean in, “Is this your first time working with them?” They then gestured their head towards Task force 141. König didn’t acknowledge them and remained quiet. Looking away, he ignored the huff of the—now annoyed— soldier.

“Ist mir doch...”

König ignored the subliminal guilt he felt by acting like he didn’t hear the soldier’s mutterings. Trying to distract himself, he re-checked his tactical gear.

Knife is attached to his side. His tourniquet was in place, perfectly positioned if needed. He had 2 extra stocks on his left thigh—

Thoughts were interrupted as 2 pairs of feet stepped onto the helicopter and the doors were closed. König looked up and he swore he heard himself swallow back a gulp. Thank whatever is up there that he had his hood concealing his face. König could feel his face becoming warm.

Completely ignoring the other pilot officer greeting the team, his eyes focused on you.

Who were you?

You seemed to be standing at almost—if not the same—height as König,

He absolutely loved that.

Eyes fell onto your hands, noticing the lack of a band surrounding it, which he also seemed to love.

He was unsure if he had a visceral reaction to your presence but it felt like when people saw color for the first time. He felt the need to hide his flustered face (even though the hood already does that for him).

Du siehst bezaubernd aus.

He thought, eyes not leaving your form.

As you and the other pilot head towards the cockpit, he couldn't help but ponder.

Was that what many consider ‘love at first sight'? Him? In love?

The idea seemed almost laughable, mainly because he didn't think he could ever imagine him even having the courage to even attempt to pursue someone. Let alone have someone finding him worth being with.

König (sadly) broke his stare by looking at the soldier who jabbed his shoulder. Bothered, he turned towards them with narrowed eyes.

Grinning, the soldier commented, "As they say in America; statuesque."

-

Stepping towards the helicopter, you could feel your mind calm down. You knew exactly what to do. Tis the moment. You're in the zone.

Ew. That’s literally so cheesy.

You thought as you covered your hand to hide the growing smile.

Your co-pilot turned over at you, “Everything ok?” he asked, confused.

Putting a hand down, you nodded, “Yep. Just…thinking of something.”

He gave you an odd look but didn't perpetuate any further, simply muttering under his breath, “...How’d I get stuck with the tall weirdo?”

You pretend not to hear that, letting out a sigh and stepping onto the helicopter.

The co-pilot flashed everyone a tight-lipped smile as eyes fell onto him first, “Proud to be working with everyone here.” But eyes quickly fell onto the person looming over him.

That person being you.

With a flashed smile and wave, you greeted them, “I’m going to be your eyes in the skies today.”

The assisting team nodded a ‘Yes Officer’ your way. Nodding to the group, you observed them until one of them caught your eye.

The moment your eyes landed on the gentleman in the hood suddenly time had stopped, not noticing when he looked back either. His eyes widened whilst looking like he had choked on the air or something.

He looked a little bit taller than you—only a little—which almost never happens.

He was also oddly cute (considering he had a full on sack over his head).

Suddenly self conscious about appearance, you straighten up and try to hide the blush apparent on your face. If it's obvious, nobody dares say anything.

It probably didn't help that he was staring back at you as well. Interlocked, neither breaking eye-contact till the soldier next to him nudged his shoulder.

Luckily, you were able to gather yourself and head into the cockpit. It seemed like the others had disappeared, leaving only you and him. But you surged on, unaware of eyes following your direction.

Finally out of sight, you were able to find your footing and headed towards the left.

Your co-pilot sat to your right.

Alright, it’s go time.

Snorting, you muttered, “...still so cheesy.”

“Huh?” the co-pilot turned.

“Nothing!”

-

It was finally over. The mission was done. You could feel the relief washing over as you were able to land on the helipad again.

No casualties (thankfully), except for 2 soldiers who were grazed by bullets. One of them being Ghost, who had apparently saved one of the other soldiers who were shot.

You still remembered upon landing to reach them on the field, Ghost was angrily dragging the other wounded soldier by the vest, holding his shoulder in the process.

One soldier yanked out a med kit as another snatched them away from the lieutenant.

The shouting could be heard from the cockpit as you flew away. You and your co-pilot ignored it and continued to flee the warzone.

As you were able to land, you slowly started feeling at ease.

Even though you’ve been flying for years, the adrenaline and anxiety was still the same every time.

The difficulty was always trying to shake the feeling of nerves off. A good cigarette always seems to ease them away. Speaking of which…

You reached into your lower back pocket; you cursed when you didn’t feel any familiar shaped boxed. Must’ve left the pack in your locker. Luckily, it wasn’t too far.

Headed towards said lockers, someone had walked next to you. Upon looking, no words were exchanged as you were side-to-side with the extremely tall soldier.

You expected him to say something. He didn’t. Simply continue to walk.

You decided to do so instead.

“Hello.”

The hooded man faced you this time with flat eyes. You stopped walking, so did he. Gulping down the nervousness, you took a good look at him.

He was taller than you, even if it was by a couple inches only. He was still taller than you.

“Sorry for bothering but…” chewing on your lip (which he definitely looked at), you confessed, “...I've never seen someone as tall—hell—taller than me. So I just wanted to introduce myself.”

You tell him your name, trying not to seem so upfront about it. He continues to look on for a while, in which you think maybe he didn’t want to talk to you at all.

“König.” is all he (manages to) says and continues to walk (although appearing dull looking towards you, he was internally sweating bullets as well).

“...Well König…I was wondering…if you would like to…maybe hangout, tonight. I'm actually going out to head for some drinks tonight and I thought…” you chuckled nervously while trying not to mumble, he however, cut you off.

“What?” König asked in what seemed an annoyed tone.

Not to him though, he just seemed weary about strangers, plus he didn't really know how to act around someone he seemed to have a crush on. He didn't even think he sounded rude about it.

Which was the problem.

You quickly explained to him, “Well…we don't have to. I swear I just wanted to offer maybe I thought you'd be interested-”

He cut you off again, “Why would I want to spend my time with you?” 

Oh god König. If only he knew just how bad he was fucking this up.

Swallowing, you looked away from said man, “Um…nevermind I didn't mean to disturb you, please, forget I ever bothered you haha…” you slowly drifted off, trying to hide the wobble in your lip.

Forcing a smile you began to walk away from him.

König’s eyes widened as you began to walk away.

No. No. No. Nein. Nein-

Was tust du?! He thought as he saw your lips wobble.

Do something before they leave!

“Wait!” He blurted out. This time he didn't seem to care that the surrounding soldiers looked at him.

But when you turned around however, he felt his stomach flutter.

Oh shit now what-

He didn’t know what to say now. So he simply just walked up, grabbed both of your shoulders and explained how he’d love to go out for drinks.

Motivated, you just looked up at him, the genuine smile creeping back onto your face, “Really?”

König felt himself freeze, but nodded regardless:

“Ja.”

“Okay, great…Amazing!” Giving him the details, you headed towards the lockers, the–now–lovestruck smile on your face. König waved until he realized what he just did.

He agreed to go out for drinks. With you.

With you. 

What was his issue then? Nothing was wrong with you.

But you wanna go out with him. Him.…now that's a different story.

He was freaking out–not that anyone could tell–König stood still in one spot, till the hand on his shoulder broke him out of it. It was the previous soldier from before:

“Gut?” they tried asking König again, who narrowed his eyes back at them. 

“Ja.”

Can you tell this was rushed and kinda a little self indulgent? Yeah, now I feel kinda cringe. Also didn't mean to cut it off so suddenly, maybe to be continued? Maybe.

[thosewildcharms]

towl 1x03 thoughts

rick is REALLY going through it trying to keep michonne alive by out maneuvering jadis AND thorne AND michonne herself because she fails horrendously at acting like she's not the most impressive person in the world AND trying not to have an aneurysm about all of that at the same time

speaking of rick you can't tell her to lie low and then eyefuck her in public every time you see her you are equally bad at this

equally you should probably stop kissing her every chance you get if you want her to believe you want her to leave lol

by contrast michonne screaming at him with her eyes while simultaneously giving him the silent treatment because she's actually too pissed off to yell at him? danai the actress you are!!!!!!!

also!!! the fact that rick thinks he can say "if you love me, you'll go" would actually make her leave is crazy. he has no idea how much that woman loves him! that's why she just smiled angrily at him because ACTUALLY. the reality is that she loves him way TOO much to ever leave him behind. that's WHY she's even here, in fact!!! he's not used to people fighting for him like this :(

michonne ripping that helmet off his head so hard i thought his head might come off with it had me cackling but also rick is stronger than me because I'd be on my knees

"you're a hero. with a shit haircut" I screamed he hates jadis so much it's so funny fdjaslkf

speaking of which I wonder if the freaks who think there is genuine sexual tension between rick and jadis caught his look of absolute disgust as he physically recoiled from her when she sexually harassed him for the 100th time. girl he's not gonna fuck you

CARL MENTION HELP

"He told me he'd find you. He found you." "Now I'm looking for him." MAYBE STOP MAKING ME CRY PERHAPS

one thing about rick and michonne they WILL find a minute to make out for a bit. and because andy and danai are EPs now they will do it with tongue while extremely well-lit! it's like they heard the complaints from the mothership and addressed them by kissing at least once per episode in broad daylight they love us

rich and michonne effortlessly fighting side by side and getting shit done after almost a decade apart because they are ACTUAL soulmates

the parallel between pearl aiming her gun at michonne and shane aiming his gun at rick in season 2 because they both feel threatened!!! big difference of course being that rick is there to literally put himself in the crosshairs to protect her

michonne staring rick down in a a turbulent helicopter and then abruptly yeeting them both into a raging storm because she is fed up with his shit is the funniest, most unhinged thing I've ever seen I love her so much

this show is fucking insane I love it. I'm still wary of how it will all end but I'm enjoying the hell out of it until we get there

[blu-writes]

By Primus’s Will

An original Optimus Prime x AFAB!Reader Fanfic by Blu <3

Author Note: The pronouns used will be they/them to keep it mostly gender neutral, but y/n is AFAB. This is also my first fanfic in a really long time, I apologize if it’s not the best. This is also going to be entirely my own AU, there will be returning characters from other media but the storyline is my own ^^

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Swearing, EXTREME SLOW BURN

A bead of sweat dripped down your forehead, stinging your eyes as you swiped it away. The dirt stained jumpsuit you were sporting smeared a new line of dark brown/orange across your face. "Jesus Christ.."

"Y/N! Is your beam secured properly? Make sure the bolts are all fastened correctly! Get focused!"

'Yeah yeah whatever. I know how to do my job.' You thought to yourself, rolling your eyes before throwing a thumbs up in the air to your boss. "Yes Sir! Everything is fastened I'm back on my way down as we speak!"

Maneuvering down the side of the half built building, you made sure to watch your feet, wary of the placement of loose nails, sharp edged beams, and other construction workers as well. You knew it was almost time to head home, the sun dipping low behind the cities skyline. "Y/N, You've been spacing out like crazy today. Are you good? Do you need a day off?"

'Yes.'

"No, I know I've been working everyday but I really just need the money right now. Especially with rent coming up." Your boss looked at you and crossed his arms. "Listen, Y/N. I get it, but payday is tomorrow. Just take tomorrow and the weekend off. I don't wanna see you in whenever I get here in the morning. You're gonna kill yourself with working everyday. An entire month of working nonstop is going to make you sick." Before you could protest he handed you a slip, the words "DAILY CLOCK CARD." written in bold letters. "Sir, I'm okay I promise. I'll be fine to keep-" He cut you off and pointed at the pop up warehouse. "Go. You need to rest, im not paying for any workers comp if you pass out and get hurt on site." 'You...You don't pay for that? The company does?'

You drug your feet all the way to the clock out station, making every last second of your time count before submitting your time card. You walked to your locker and pulled out your bag, grabbing your car keys and walking to the parking lot of the building you were helping build. You unlocked the car and began your journey home, the sun finally setting as you began the long drive out of the city and into the desert, where your home was located and far from the shining bright lights of the city.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pulling into your driveway, you turned off the car and headed up the stairs to your house, unlocking the door and pulling your grimy work boots off to leave outside by the front door.

Once inside you flipped some of the lights on and walked to your bathroom, stripping naked to shower and get all the dirt and nastiness off of you from work. The steam from the shower quickly filled the room and you brushed your teeth before hopping in the shower and relaxing as the warmth of the water poured down your back.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax before a loud boom rang through your ears. “What the hell?!” You quickly turned off the water and wrapped a towel around yourself, looking outside to try and see what the noise was.

The darkness made it hard to see, even though the moon had fully risen by this point. In the shadows though you saw what looked like a giant crater in the ground, some brush around the area glowing like it had almost caught on fire. You squinted and gasped when you began to hear helicopters in the distance, shutting the curtain and all the lights off in the house so they would leave you alone.

‘What in the hell is going on? Did a piece of a satellite just fall in my yard?’

You threw on a loose night shirt and climbed into bed, pulling your covers up over you and relaxing into the mattress, your eyes beginning to feel heavy almost immediately.

‘If a satellite fell then the government better be willing to pay me for the damage to my property..’

You closed your eyes and fell asleep, only slightly annoyed by the sound of helicopter blades above your house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[thatsrightice]

HOW TO BECOME A FIGHTER PILOT

So as you may or may not know, I am writing a fanfic. Unfortunately for me, I can never do things half way, and because aviation is my passion I must do hours of research on a particular subject that I probably won't even use or reference in said fanfic. Here is a guide for how our favorite characters (probably) became fighter pilots. If there are inaccuracies let me know, I want to know :)

United States Naval Academy

The USNA is an undergraduate college that is a combination of academics and military development programs. Students who want to go into Flight School could qualify with one of a variety of different majors, but there are particular majors that obviously may provide a bit of an advantage to aspiring pilots. The USNA currently offers a variety of different majors and minors, though there are fewer than you might expect from a typical university, and overall the degrees are more tailored towards the Navy. They encourage participation in athletics in the form of a Varsity or club/intramural sport(1). 

NOTE: Maverick likely attended a regular college and was a part of the Naval ROTC program at that school. He would have gotten his degree in a field relevant to aviation, likely Mechanical Engineering given his mechanical aptitude seen in Top Gun Maverick, and then attended the 13-week program called Officer Candidate School. To be honest, Maverick’s path within the Navy is a mess and impossible to follow but in the most straightforward scenario, he would go to flight school following Officer Candidate School.

Flight School 

Flight School is an approximately 2-year-long program that is required for Naval Aviators to earn their wings. Primarily located at the “Cradle of Naval Aviation” aka Pensacola, FL, flight school consists of many different phases that will divide students into different specializations. 

1. Naval Introductory Flight Evaluation (NIFE)

Divided into four phases, NIFE is a program that evaluates students’ aeronautical aptitude as well as screens them to ensure they’re capable of becoming aviators. Students may earn a “pink sheet” for any score below 80% or a failure of a task, requiring them to stand before a panel of instructors to explain why they failed and how they plan to improve. Too many pink sheets result in removal from the program(2).

1a. Water Survival Training Following medical clearance, students are taught and tested on their ability to swim while wearing flight gear as well as formerly instructed on various survival techniques and CPR(2).

1b. Academics  A 3-week phase where students take classes and exams in five subjects. It is condensed to test a student’s ability to retain information, learn new information in a high-stress environment, and challenge their self-discipline in regard to time management and other areas(2).

1c. Introductory Flight Screening (IFS) Students are entered into a 2-week-long modified civilian flight training program where one week is dedicated to ground school courses before they must conduct a series of flights in a Cessna using Navy flight procedures during the second week. Students had to memorize and prioritize information to complete the flights, specifically in regard to conducting pre-flight briefings and emergency procedures. Overall, they’ll conduct seven flights in which they are required to complete a set of standardized maneuvers(2). 

1d. Aviation Physiology A week-long training course that consists of emergency-specific training evolutions such as the hypoxia chamber, emergency first aid, and the “helo dunker.” The “helo dunker” (from what I understand) is a particular training device that consists of strapping a pilot into a cockpit-like or helicopter contraption within a pool and submerging the entire structure under the water, simulating an environment in which their aircraft has landed in the water and they need to escape from the seat(3). An image of this can be seen below(2).

The Top Gun cast had to undergo a similar training course in order to be allowed to fly in military airplanes for filming. A video of some of their training can be viewed below.

2b. Aviation Pre-Flight Indoctrination

A 6-week long program that marks the beginning of the aviation pipeline. Located in Pensacola, FL, students attend classes covering the basics of aerodynamics, weather in relation to aviation, air navigation, flight rules and regulations, and aircraft engines and systems (3). 

Prior to API, those interested in becoming Radar Intercept Officers (RIO) will have expressed their interest and requested a designation as a Naval Flight Officer (NFO). 

2c. Primary Flight Training

A 6-month-long program that teaches the students the basics of flying. There are two locations for Primary, one at Training Air Wing 5 at Naval Air Station Whiting Field in Pensacola, FL, or Training Air Wing 4 at Naval Air Station Corpus Christi in Corpus Christi, TX. Both Naval Air Stations (NAS) are taught the same curriculum and fly the same aircraft, the T-6 Texan II. The students learn about the instruments, flight basics, radio instrument navigation, formation flying, and aerobatics, and also conduct several solo flights. At the end of Primary, students choose which pipeline they would like. This is conducted depending on the needs of the Navy and how many spots are available(3). 

Obviously, Iceman, Slider, Goose, Cougar, and everyone else got Jets, though they may not have gone through flight school at the same time. 

2d. Intermediate Flight Training

Intermediate Flight Training is a 27-week program. Split into five platforms; Jet, E2/C2, Helicopter, Maritime, and E-6 TACAMO. The jet platform flight training focuses more on navigation, air traffic control, individual skills, and cooperative skills of flying jets. The intermediate flight training program for jets is located at Meridian, MS (Training Air Wing One) at either VT-7 or VT-9, and Kingsville, TX (Training Air Wing Two) at either VT-21 or VT-22, both of which teach the same curriculum. Students in the jet platform will complete 58 graded flights in the T-45C Goshawk jet trainer aircraft(3). 

2e. Advanced Flight Training

Similar to Intermediate Flight Training, the program is split into five platforms but lasts 23 weeks. The students will probably have stayed with the same training squadron throughout the intermediate and advanced flight training. This stage includes learning skills specific to the chosen platform. The Advanced Flight Training program for jets is what’s called the Strike Syllabus. The Strike Syllabus includes an additional 67 graded flights in the T-45 covering air combat maneuvers, low-level navigation, tactical formation flying, and aircraft carrier qualifications. Students will then graduate from Advanced Flight Training with the Wings of Gold(3). 

3. Squadron Selection 

The final selection process assigns naval aviators to a particular squadron based on the needs of the service. Naval Aviators are assigned to a fleet replacement squadron or other similar training assignments for further training on their specific aircraft type. Here, RIOs and pilots must become qualified by gaining the required flight hours and meeting the proficiency standards necessary.

NOTE: It’s kind of hard to figure out when exactly the RIO training occurs. I know it takes place over the course of all the primary through advanced training occurs as well but I’m not sure if they have to attend seperate courses for it. 

TOPGUN

From there, pilots and RIOs may have been moved to their first official squadron for deployment. They would have been in their first squadron for approximately one and a half years, deploying with them. Their squadron would come back from a deployment and during the stand-down time before their next deployment, their commanding officer would select them to go to TOPGUN.

Sources

(1) https://www.usna.edu/homepage.php

(2) https://www.navy.mil/Press-Office/News-Stories/Article/2944668/nife-lays-foundation-for-naval-aviation-training/

(3) https://www.cnatra.navy.mil/tw4/flight-school.asp