#Horizontal pilot command

[acoldghostlypresence]

[amanicfanaticsreblogac]

Deltarune chapter 3 before HPC 😭

[toiletapples]

Silly HPC tokens for @tearah04 and myself!

Meet Himster and Sssakura

[bladehorror]

Not keeping it because I love his looks too much. But I just wanted to do this real quick. For Reasons.

[medicinal-club]

Pigeons!!!

[planesawesome]

The differences between the F-35A and C variants, one of the most notable are the trailing edge control surfaces for the main horizontal wing. The A variant has a single “flaperon” which spans 90% of the trailing edge of each wing. In addition to controlling the roll or bank of the aircraft, as do conventional ailerons, both flaperons can be lowered together to reduce stall speed, similarly to a set of flaps. This is often done as a part of the weight minimization strategy. The C variant, in addition to having flaperons, has a set of ailerons that extend to the tip of the trailing edge. The larger surfaces allow for more precise control at slower speeds, such as the approach to a carrier. The F-35 has a system called Integrated Direct Lift Control (IDLC) that translates pilot stick commands into choreographed changes to engine power and control surface movement. It’s the wave of the future as it makes flying the aircraft much easier during traditionally high pilot workload flight regimes.

[withahappyrefrain]

YESS the “she can take it” SO HOT..like yeah Jake is being kinda dominate..fucking you..but Bob is just barking orders, pushing around, just being IN CHARGE like..owning the whole room, taking up space, just DOMINANT

"She's not made out of glass y'know," Bob chuckles, his shadow looming over you and Jake.

Jake lets out a frustrated grunt, greatly missing the days where Bob wouldn't talk to him unless he said something stupid.

Bob on the other hand, was getting immense joy from this hands on lesson you and he were providing Jake with.

When it came to sex, the Floyd's were not the first thing that came to Jake's mind. But after walking in on you two in the Hard Deck's bathroom, the pilot was intrigued.

He also realized that despite his years of experience, he still had a lot to learn.

The latest thrust from Jake pulls a whine from your lips. His cock feels great, but it's not quite reaching the spot that makes you see stars. At least, not yet.

You give the blonde an encouraging smile, "Bob's right. You can be rougher if you want."

Your husband leaned over, just three of his long fingers easily able to grasp your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"Going by what he wants is exactly why our little friend is in this situation," Bob said through gritted teeth. Jake held back a comment on height upon recalling that Bob was in fact taller than him by several inches.

Vertical and horizontal.

"Now sweetie, tell Jake, what is it that you want?"

You looked into Jake's sea green eyes, "I want you to make me come. Without touching my clit."

Jake opened his mouth, ready to scoff at such a thing being possible. But then he recalled you and Bob in the bathroom, you sat on the counter while Bob thrust into you. He had made you come with just his cock, something Jake had yet to master.

"Can you.....help me?" Jake's voice was all but a whisper. You nodded, sending a knowing smile to Bob.

"Push her knees up to her chest, she'll feel your cock way better," Bob ordered.

"That's comfortable?" Jake asked.

Bob simply nodded, "She can take it. Plus it makes her feel dirty, which she loves. Isn't that right darlin'?"

Warmth flooded your face at Bob's nickname for you. Your husband tapped his long fingers against your mouth. Immediately, your lips parted, moaning upon feeling the digits on your tongue.

The sight makes Jake's cock twitch. Two weeks ago, he would have confidently said he was dominant in the bedroom.

Now?

He wasn't so sure. He still liked being in charge. But Bob was different. The quiet backseater had a way of commanding in the bedroom and Jake would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous.

A sharp slap against his thighs broke Jake out of his thoughts.

"Can you listen? Or do you need me to show you how she likes to be fucked? Again?"

Jake holds back a sarcastic comment. His ass is still healing from Bob's last punishment.

And he really needs to come.

So he hoists your legs up, pushing your knees to your chest. The new angle causes you to throw back your head now that you could feel Jake's cock even deeper.

"Fuck, r-right there!"

Bob smirks, "Told ya."

Jake mutters something indignant.

"What was that?" Bob's breath is hot on the shell of Jake's ear. The searing pain from his hair being pulled on went straight to his cock.

"Kiss his neck Bobby, he loves that," you giggled from underneath.

"If she's able to talk you're not fucking her hard enough. Go ahead Jake, fuck my wife."

Jake regretted every "baby on board" joke he had ever made.

[ironedsleeper]

Pilots all have scars from their neural implant surgeries, they range in size and exact placement but in general most pilots are rocking a three inch horizontal scar at the base of the skull. You wouldn’t think a meaningless thing like a scar would matter but even though most non pilots never even see these tiny surgical marks its still enough for “Frankenstein” to have caught on as a derogatory term.

While Command hasn’t officially responded to the rising popularity of the term individual bases have either banned its use outright or levied heavy penalties against infantry stupid enough to say it within earshot. Most of the CO’s are concerned that the pilots would take offense but there are some that embraced it fully and even adopted it as their callsign.

[thebirdfantasy]

The Holiday House - Ch8

Thank you very much @thundergirl007 for the help with reading this and providing me with suggestions! Seriously, it was helpful!! Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

"Alan! The winch broke!"

"The what!?"

"The winch broke!" John watches as a helpless holographic figure falls from the sky.

"What the hell do you mean the winch broke!? Our winches don't break!"

"Thunderbird One hasn't been maintained in weeks! We should have seen this coming." Two seconds ago, the rescuee was perfectly secured in a harness, being raised into the 'Bird just as it sped off from an exploding radio tower in the alpine mountains.

"I'm gonna try to grab him with the net." Alan sets the 'Bird to vertical dive, target locked at the flailing victim until-

"-Except that there is no net: It hasn't been reinstalled, it's back at the hangars for maintenance."

“Damn it!” Alan rushes out of the cockpit and to the hull, dunking his helmet over his shoulders. “Well, I’m open for ideas!” Echoes of locker doors slamming travels through the rocket-plane until Alan finds the one with magnetic grapple packs stocked in silver gauntlets. Without hesitation, he dons the gauntlets before rushing to the top hatch of Thunderbird One.

“This is gonna sound absolutely insane, but you’ll have to trust me.” John throws his hands to the side, setting up commands with a persevering look in his eyes. “I need you to jump for it. I’ll remote pilot Thunderbird One to catch you, as long as you just catch him.”

Unbeknownst to John, Alan had already jumped out the second the word “trust” had been mentioned. He launched up into the skies with immense speed until finally reaching a velocity of zero — His arms sway into the motion, outstretched and loose. He sighs at the breathtaking view of the golden-red horizon that collides with the glowing pink clouds. Migrating dots flutter among the distance beyond yonder, flapping their wings as they set course for the sun. A quiet stillness, envelopes the atmosphere — before beginning his accelerating freefall decent. “How high?”

Time moves fast. The sky screams past. Alan determinedly sets himself headfirst, arms firmly pinned to his sides with the intent of hastening his fall. His eyes firmly lock onto the flailing figure before him who screams in panic. Within due time, the blueness of the ocean glimmering orange with sunshine beneath them makes itself known.

From far up above, Thunderbird One hums a flaring change in its engine. The rocket-plane darts further down — faster than the rescue operative's terminal velocity — until its hull finally meets at eye level with the rocket boy who smirks at the metal face of the hull, he readies the silver gauntlets for their first shot with a steady click and aims his aims for the hatch.

"I've matched Thunderbird One to your descent speed, Alan." John claims.

"Good." Alan shoots. The line fires, slicing through the wind until it connects to the hull with a clang. He hooks his end of the line to his scarlet harness and starts the automatic reeling; it whips him through until his gecko gloves and boots cling to the silver of the outer hull. "I'm connected. Increase acceleration." He orders.

The rocket-plane declines in angle and Alan surfs its hull fearlessly, his sight sets downwards on the flailing victim once more. He prepares another grapple pack from his brother's silver gauntlets and trains the line of fire towards the rescuee.

As soon as the said rescuee is within range, Alan fires. It whips through the thrashing air, accelerating until it reaches the IR issued harness that has been wrapped around the victim from the hours previously.

"Bullseye!"

John takes the exclamation as a signal, he begins to boot the horizontal thrusters. At the feel of this, Alan jumps once again. He twists at the taut rope between him and the rescuee, forcing himself to cut through the sky and reach the other faster, the shape of the victim grows larger as their distance shortens.

Suddenly, Alan is grabbing the man mid-air, redirecting both of their falls into a controlled spin. With a strained yell, Alan hits the remote winch on his silver gauntlets, that of which reels him and the rescuee back towards the turning hull of Thunderbird One with a sharp force. They slam together onto the hull and tumble through the hatch — which had been opened by John whose perfect timing Alan must compliment for later — and into the cargo bay.

The rescuee lands hard on top of Alan, practically crushing him. However, adrenaline takes over the young Tracy who scrambles to force his shoulders over his knees and sprint into the cockpit, his eyes widen at the altitude level on the monitor. "Thunderbird Five! Ascend faster!"

From the space station, John grits his teeth and twists his wrists further inward. "There's not enough thrust to pull up!"

"Fire the landing thrusters!"

"FAB!"

The landing thrusters provide just enough force to push the red nose upwards. With a bellowing roar, Thunderbird One yanks itself into level flight just as ocean spray kisses the underside of the hull.

Alan lets out a breath of relief, he falls loosely back into the red chair. "Thanks, John." He sighs.

"It wasn't easy." The spaceman replies. "How's our rescuee holding up? The nearest hospital should take five minutes; I can set her on autopilot and let you rest."

At the simplicity of the suggestion, Alan shifts in the pilot seat to sit up straighter. "Won't be necessary." He reassures. "I can take her."

"You sure? That was quite the save."

"I'm serious, John." His quivering hands settle over the controls like second nature, a motion that he's practiced several times in simulation rigs for the past many years. "I have the energy to do it. Promise!"

"That's not energy, it's called adrenaline, Alan." John would facepalm if it weren't for the fact that his eyes keep straying towards the silver gauntlets making themselves known on his baby brother's forearms. "Alright, but you're not allowed on missions until you get at least two hours' worth of rest, understood?"

Alan cranks the horizontal thrusters. "FAB." Then radios in to the cargo bay: "Hey, how you doing back there?"

There's a short groan of a response, a slurring collection of words akin to "I'm okay", as far as Alan can make it out to be.

"Hang in there, gonna get you to hospital."

And the rocket plane fires into the distance.

Chapter 9: "What the hell?" Scott squints at what he can only assume are tiny ripples in the water.

Since this fic is set post Season3, I decided to try make some new parallels between Alan’s character and Scott’s.

I wanted to use Scott’s grapple pack gauntlets as symbolism to show a form of resemblance between Alan and Scott, which is why i repeatedly mentioning them being silver.

That and also the mission itself is pretty Scott-like… Alan didn’t even have a jetpack, let alone a parachute and he just… went for it.

[dailysylvesterashling]

Day thirty seven

I know nothing about horizontal pilot command, haven’t seen anime campaign but Sylvie’s absolutely a HPC nerd

Sylvie has one of those playing card mats you would see in one of those big tournaments and he has definitely tried to teach his sheep how to play

Results are surprisingly positive but they pick up the cards by biting them and he doesn’t want that so his cards just kinda sit in a box in his bedroom on a shelf

[amanicfanaticsfanartac]

HORIZONTAL PILOT COMMAND DROPS TOMORROW!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

[acoldghostlypresence]

[bekolxeram]

Heya, I've got a question since you seem to know a lot about aviation. So this point is a bit of a 'controversy' among the fans: does Tommy fly both helicopters and planes, or just helicopters? People are inferring the former because of the episode in season 2 where Chimney called Tommy, and then the water-bomber plane came, and, watching this, Chimney thanked Tommy. Now, I find it to be entirely plausible that a) Chimney meant it as a thanks because Tommy organized the rescue rather than being the pilot himself and b) also a minor detail that, while written back then, was never meant to come back in the way it did. Now, however, we have a lot more background info on Tommy, and to me it seems unlikely that he got training for both helicopters and planes, and that he does fly both in his line of work. Also, if he was able to fly planes as well and had access to them at work, why would they take a helicopter to Vegas when a light aircraft would be the better option? (I assume, though I could be wrong). What are your thoughts and your expertise on this?

Thank you for asking! Always love an aviation related question.

One of the first posts I've ever written here is about this very topic. The US Army operates mainly helicopters. Yes, they do have like a hundred or so fixed wing aircrafts for transport and recon missions, but that's nothing compared to the 4000+ helicopters currently in service. You also have to finish your entire helicopter pilot training before you can even apply for fixed wing training program for the Army. Tommy's timeline is already tight enough, I don't think he had the time to learn how to fly a plane in the military. (You need like at least 800 hours on a multi-engine airplane as pilot-in-command to be considered for the CAL FIRE training program for instant.)

But the most damning evidence is that the news reporter in 2x14 actually said the air tanker was with CAL FIRE, so not LAFD, a completely different agency. I imagine Air Ops had their hands tied during that major power outage already, so Tommy had to pull some strings and call other agencies for help. (Shamelessly pugging my own hc of Tommy dating a CAL FIRE pilot in the past here.)

And yes, light fixed wing aircrafts are much more suited for medium range trips. They are also cheaper to rent and more widely available than helicopters. So there's a chance that Tommy has no experience on an airplane at all. Helicopter pilots do have a head start when learning how to fly a plane though, the basics of flight are the same, it's just the mechanical side of things that differs between rotary and fixed wing. For example, you have to closely monitor your air speed when flying a plane, because it generates lift by deflecting the incoming stream of air downward. If you fly too slow, you risk stalling the plane and falling out of the sky. A helicopter on the other hand, actively moves air downward by spinning the main rotor, so air speed is not that important for safety, you can move straight up and down without moving an inch horizontally.

That's not to say it's impossible for Tommy to know how to fly a small airplane. He may simply have more connections in the rotary wing world, or he feels more comfortable flying a friend in a helicopter since he's more experienced. Helicopters also have the advantage of landing straight down in tight spaces, eliminating the need to wait for a landing slot on a runway when traffic is high.

[username8746489]

So what is Sylvie and Rick's relationship? What made them connect

I'm gonna be honest, I 100% know little to NOTHING about their canon relationship

There was this period of time like a week ago where I drove myself insane trying to look for the confirmation that Sylvie and Rick were gonna be the POV investigation duo of Horizontal Pilot Command (The fifth novel in the series) because there was nothing listed in the wikis and I was staying up until 2am every night listening to streams to find it (This is relevant for later).

At 2:51:55 in the Prison of Plastic - CAST LIVESTREAM [PART 2], the Sylvie and Rick POV duo is brought up. A little while later, their dynamic is described as

Sylvie: Follow me, I know exactly what to do! (Has watched a lot of Detective Conan and is going to do his best)

Rick: Ah, okay! I have no idea what I'm doing but will copy you exactly!

During the period of time when I was trying to find that, I resorted to straight up closing my eyes and trying to skim through the Anime Campaign wiki without spoiling myself upon which I learned their relationship was meant to be brotherly but they didn't really get to explore that.

So from that, I assume that'll carry over into epithet erased, but there is the possibility that it won't.

[medicinal-club]

Small [tiny]

[epithet-beloved]

hihi um. i love the platonic sylvie imagines here,, could i request autistic sylvie hcs and/or sylvie with a reader his age whos special interest is also psychology…….

AUTISTIC SYLVIE THOUGHTS!

synopsis… Autistic traits Sylvie exhibits, and how he bonded with someone with a similar special interest!

ft. Sylvester “Sylvie” Ashling, Molly Blyndeff (mentioned)

tags… fluff, autism headcanon, i don't know anything about psychology save for basics oops

word count… 728

a/n… uhmmmm hiiii do you guys remember us… being an adult is difficult guys why do we do it. anyway. autism. i am not OFFICIALLY diagnosed myself (to which my friend immediately went "you were stimming so hard at the movie today bffr"), but i suspect i am and i also relate to sylvie so a good bit of this is projection ✧ 🦝

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Lovingly, have you seen this kid?

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 It goes without saying that no one in Epithet Erased is neurotypical but we’re not here to discuss that today.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Sylvie was diagnosed fairly early in life, some amount of time before he jumped a few grades.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He doesn’t really like acknowledging his diagnosis.  Unfortunately, upon getting diagnosed, the most exposure he had to autism was his uncle, and characters that fit the "genius" stereotype on TV.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 So, of course, Sylvie absorbed the pretentiousness from these sources trying to learn about himself.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Like, is it not just canon that he uses the “neurodivergent and a minor” excuse to everything online?

“Huh–?”  Molly blinks at Sylvie’s phone screen, opened on social media, but the way he chose to phrase the reply…  “Sylvie, I-I don’t think you should say that sort of thing!” “I’m literally neurodivergent and a minor.  This ‘adult’ is the one arguing with ME!”  Sylvie defends himself with a huff, missing the way Molly gives him a look that’s a mix between disappointment and disbelief. Isn’t Sylvie always the one saying he isn’t a kid?

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Sylvie didn’t really have a lot of friends as a child, considering how he tends to act around others.  Pretentious and defensive – it’s hard to get through to the Sylvie that’s more vulnerable and actually nice.  He’s mostly in environments of predominantly neurotypical people, and he finds himself in conflict of whether he should mask or not.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He finds his stims embarrassing for example.  His most common ones are fiddling with and pushing up his glasses, pacing, talking to himself, and messing with his hair.  He also flaps his hands when excited but tries to stop himself from doing so, calling it ‘childish.’

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 His biggest stim of all?  Playing with his yo-yo.  It’s also a comfort item.  When commuting places or even just needing to do something with his hands, he’ll find himself using his yo-yo.  He tries to say he wouldn’t die without it, but he’s definitely more tense if he can’t use it.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 His special interests include psychology (duh) and epithets.  Things he can study.  However, he has a hyperfixation on card games that comes and goes when it feels like it.  Sylvie can be really distracted by games like Horizontal Pilot Command, so much that he can procrastinate on work, making him feel bad about it afterwards.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Meltdowns are “shamefully” common for Sylvie, and he needs a lot of time to ground himself.  He usually keeps to his room and uses his sheep to rest on or surround himself with.  The fluff is therapy sometimes.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 So socially, Sylvie struggles, it’s true.  He knows it, but a little worm of denial in his head tries to say it’s because he’s superior to these people, or something like that.  So, meeting someone who's similar to him means the world.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Sylvie with low empathy, and a friend who has high empathy?  Dynamic duo.  Sylvie can wonder if he’s just a jerk due to his low empathy, and he can seek reassurance for it.  A friend can help him feel less like a terrible person.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 His favourite joke is when someone asks him for something, he goes “no,” while doing exactly as asked.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Sylvester meeting someone with a psychology special interest?  He’s in literal heaven.  Two little nerds keep talking about things that make even full grown adults feel dizzy listening to.

“Ah, like Pavlov,” you say with a nod when Sylvie finishes his study help suggestion.  The chocolate in hand is an incentive to finish the page you’re scouring through. Sylvie perks up.  “Well, yeah!  Behaviourism is really important in Pavlov’s theory.  The more a behaviour is repeated, the more it affects the mind.” “Mhm!  Although I do like B. F. Skinner’s suggestion too,” comes your reply, and Sylvie feels his jaw fall slack at the fact you even know his name.  “Stimulus first, then response, then reinforce that response.” “Exactly!”  Sylvie sits up, louder than you ever heard him.  The study session was quickly brushed aside in favour for now bringing up the founders of behaviourism.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Sylvie doesn’t know anyone else his age with his diagnosis, so it really opens his eyes being with you.  And, not to mention, he finally has a friend who really gets him.  Where would he be without you, eh?  Or, so he jokes, but you can tell he’s serious.