#Aviation Milestones

[gpstudios]

Celebrating Harriet Quimby Day: Honoring a Trailblazing Aviator and Pioneer ✈️💪

Happy Harriet Quimby Day! ✈️💪 Celebrate the life of Harriet Quimby, the first American woman to earn a pilot’s license and fly solo across the English Channel. Honor her legacy and be inspired! #HarrietQuimbyDay #WomenInAviation

Introduction Happy Harriet Quimby Day! ✈️💪 Celebrated annually on August 2nd, Harriet Quimby Day honors the life and achievements of Harriet Quimby, the first American woman to earn a pilot’s license and the first woman to fly solo across the English Channel. As a pioneering aviator and a trailblazer for women in aviation, Quimby’s legacy continues to inspire generations of women to pursue their…

[aviationgeek2024]

[sucre333]

(source: 2005 January Fotogramas Magazine)

LEOPARDO DI CAPRIO VERSUS HOWARD HUGHES.

[attachedtopotentialchildhood]

It's my 2 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[phinisworld]

Yay happy 7th, me 🥳

[truengineer]

[jcmarchi]

First Chinese Flying Drone Taxis From EHang Already Available on Taobao - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/first-chinese-flying-drone-taxis-from-ehang-already-available-on-taobao-technology-org/

First Chinese Flying Drone Taxis From EHang Already Available on Taobao - Technology Org

According to Reuters, Chinese drone manufacturer EHang Holdings has starter the sale of its EH216-S model flying taxi on Taobao, priced at 2.39 million yuan ($332,060).

EH216-S during a test flight. Image credit: EHang

The company received safety approval certification from China’s aviation authority in October last year. This development then marked a significant milestone in its journey towards commercial deployment.

EHang Holdings, headquartered in Guangzhou, previously obtained “type certificate” from the Civil Aviation Administration of China (CAAC) for its 216-S model.

The EH216-S is equipped with 16 rotors and has the capacity to accommodate two passengers, boasting speeds of up to 130 kilometers per hour and a maximum range of 30 kilometers.

Why flying taxis are based on drone tech?

Flying taxis are indeed based on drone technology.

Firstly, they utilize vertical takeoff and landing (VTOL) capabilities, enabling them to operate in urban areas without the need for traditional runways.

Additionally, flying taxis often incorporate electric propulsion systems, offering reduced noise levels, lower emissions, and increased efficiency compared to conventional engines.

Also, drone technology integrates advanced autonomous flight control systems, including GPS navigation and obstacle avoidance sensors, allowing flying taxis to operate autonomously or semi-autonomously. This enhances safety and reduces the reliance on human piloting skills.

Furthermore, drones are typically compact and lightweight, making them well-suited for navigating tight spaces and congested airspace in urban environments.

The scalability and cost-effectiveness of drone technology also make it an attractive choice for flying taxis. It allows for the development of taxis in various sizes and configurations to accommodate different passenger capacities and mission requirements.

The use of drone technology lowers operating costs compared to traditional aircraft, which makes flying taxis a more economically viable transportation solution.

Written by Vytautas Valinskas

You can offer your link to a page which is relevant to the topic of this post.

[rodspurethoughts]

Boom Supersonic Advances Flight Preparations for XB-1: Key Milestones Completed

"Boom Supersonic's XB-1: Advancing towards first flight, revolutionizing supersonic travel. #aviation #supersonic"

XB-1 has undergone extensive ground testing since arriving, including taxi testing this week at the Mojave Air & Space Port in Mojave, California. Boom Supersonic, the pioneer in supersonic travel, has achieved significant milestones in the development of XB-1, their groundbreaking technology demonstrator aircraft. Leveraging cutting-edge advancements in aviation technology, XB-1 is a stepping…

[hardlyinteresting]

To Have and To Hold

Jake Seresin x Reader

Jake comes home

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please), I grew up in an Army household so some of my Navy knowledge may be slightly off base (no pun intended) Word count: 1.8K

The floorboards creak with the weight of his footsteps still. there's a strange comfort in the sounds of this old house settling; the hum of the refrigerator downstairs, the quiet slide of his socks across wood floors. If he listens carefully, he can hear the whistle of the wind blowing past the window he meant to reseal all those months ago. The reminder of another missed task weighs heavy in his heart; a failure to provide a safe, warm home. It's the little things that matter most, his mama's voice reminds him, but it's the little things he so often misses-- always overlooked with the prayer that he won't be made a liar when he says he'll do it later. 

Time plays him for a fool. At 35 he rushes to make sure he meets the milestones he set out for himself, steadfast and resilient in his resolve to do more-- to be more. He breaks records, and sets precedents. But, he struggles to relax. Breathing doesn't come easy to him when it's not through his aviator's mask. In for seven, out for five. He counts the seconds of his inhales and exhales grounding himself in the moment. 

He does his best to hold tight to the moments he has here, But still, it never seems to be enough. like sand through an hourglass it all seems to slip away from him; these new found days of domestic bliss escape through his fingers like the memories of his childhood back in Texas. He wonders if one day he might be afforded the chance to pick up all the pieces and fit them together in some semblance of a “normal” life. He worries about his time away from home, what he's missed, and worse yet what he stands to miss if this life is taken from him too soon. 

Tonight marks the end of a six month separation, and tomorrow morning the count down to his next inevitable departure will begin. Always running out of time. It never used to bother him, it exhilarated him even, time blasting by in a blink of an eye. Back when he was younger, back when he had nothing to lose, and no idea what he stood to gain by sticking around. Now he worries about the quality of the lock on the front door, he thinks about restaining the floor downstairs and fixing up the kitchen. Domestic life snuck up on him. Slowly but surely his house became a home. Sun-baked bricks and weather-worn siding, with a shade of green paint he's been told matches his eyes. Four walls and roof that keep the outside world at bay. 

Down the hall in their bedroom, he Expects to find his wife sleeping, waiting in dreams for him to come home to her. It's the part of his job he struggles with the most now. It's so hard to leave this life they've built now that part of him is forever tethered to the earth. 

“I worry sometimes that I'm holding you back,” she confessed one night, “your job is hard enough as it is…I don't want to make it harder for you”. He hadn't been able to find the words to tell her how wrong she was.How could he describe the ways she had changed him? 

The need to return home to her never leaves him stunted in the sky, it fuels him. Long gone are the days where he fought just to be seen; she sees him. He's quick up there, tens of thousands of feet above the ground, he's calm and he's brilliant. His colleagues can call him cocky all they want, but his confidence is founded on his proven ability, and sometimes it's necessary to show off a little bit even if it's just so he can have another story to tell his sweetheart when he gets home. He imagines himself writing her name in the sky, carving her likeness in the clouds, a blazing trail racing home to her. 

So many of his earlier years had been spent playing the field too afraid to commit, too afraid to be loved. Adaptability, while necessary for his job, had never been his strong suit. A tiny part of him deep in the back of his mind always left the hair at the back of his neck on end when faced with change.

He had struggled in school, not academically, but socially and learned to over compensate to make up for his discomfort. The navy had given him the structure he had craved, a way to make his bed and fold his clothes, instructions that weren't open to interpretation. Living on his own allowed him to follow the same schedule and practices as he did on base.  In a split second, his life on the line, he never hesitates, but sustained change to his daily life left him nauseated. Welcoming another person into his life, and into his home had pushed him past the edges of where he believed his comfort laid, but forced him to confide in a support system outside of routine. 

Over the course of a few weeks her belongings joined his, sprinkled through out the house like a treasures to be found. Without a word she had taken care to intermix her books with the few of his own on the shelf, sorting them by alphabetical order just as he'd been doing for years. His anxiety slowly waned as his darling girl continued to prove she understood him better than anyone else ever had. 

“Do you prefer flying at dusk or dawn?” She had asked a few weeks after she moved in. curled up on their sofa, her head tucked under his chin, college football playing on the tv, she traced invisible shapes across his chest. “I don't have a preference, sweetheart. I just like flying,” his response felt half-baked, but it was the honest-to-good truth. 

“But if you had to pick?” she persisted. He weighed his answer before giving it to her, “if I had to pick, it would be dusk. There’s a moment, if you're up at the right time where you can see the night sky blending into the sunset…the sky is a gray-blue and you can see the sun at the horizon and the little pinpricks of stars”. 

“It sounds beautiful,” her smile was soft and genuine when she cupped his cheek to make sure he was looking at her. A habit of hers, not letting him hide away from the softer parts of himself, she seemed to so easily pull out. “It is”.

That weekend he’d spent 72 hours on base and returned home on Monday evening to the faintest smell of fresh paint. In the low evening light, it took him a moment to figure it out, standing puzzled in the middle of the living room, still dressed in his service khakis trying to identify the source of the smell. “You’re home!” she’d grinned coming down the stairs, her jeans and t-shirt splattered with gray. It’s then he noticed with his darling girl looking so proud of herself, the walls of the living room coated in a soft heather blue-grey, no longer just a coat of contractor-grade white reflecting the shade of twilight through the windows. Flicking on the light he watched her grow nervous as he felt his brow furrow processing the unexpected change. “Do you like it?” she asked. 

“It’s perfect, baby,” he promised pulling her close and kissing her thoroughly, “It’s beautiful”. 

A few months later he came home from work to find his shower gel and shampoo had both been replaced by a new set. Confused and with no other option, he chose to use them, deciding he liked the smell of eucalyptus and mint much more than he'd liked sport: for men anyway. 

“Baby, what happened to my shower gel?” 

“You were complaining about how dry your skin has been”.

“Hmm,” the consideration to change his routine to better himself hadn't occurred to him before she moved in. 

More recently he'd come home from a night out with the squadron, and woken up under a Forest green duvet, a jarring difference to the burgundy plaid cover he'd owned for years. Momentary panic filled his chest. Like a sharp, sudden plunge into cold water he'd gasped his eyes scanning the room to confirm his location. The familiar scent of her perfume, the sound of the ocean breeze, assured him he was in fact in their room. In the dark when he'd come home, colour of the duvet hadn't been noticeable and he found himself mildly embarrassed by how badly it startled him. Her hand reaching out for him, stretching across the sheets to touch him lured him back to a flat position letting her snuggle herself right up against his side. It was then he noticed that the weight of the blanket was the same as before, and it was just as plush as it had always been. Her on going respect for his comfort continued to leave him floored. A memory of her texting him to ask his favourite colour (green) filled his mind and left him drifting back to sleep with a smile on his face. 

Secretly, he'd begun to look forward to the tiny changes she brought into his life and into the house. The littlest reminders of their strengthening bond, their lives stitching together in more tangible and visible ways. The Navy had taught him to think literally, latteral thinking developed and honed to reach conclusions and make decisions quickly and effectively, but the metaphor of their lives blending like the presence of her belongings along side his own, and freshly painted walls is not lost on him. 

Tonight the house is quiet as it often is when he returns so late. He knows if she knew what day he was set to come back home she would've done her best to stay awake for him, dozing off on the sofa with the living room curtains wide open, hoping to catch the sight of his headlights pulling into the driveway. It's thoughts of her safe and waiting for him that have pulled him through this latest deployment, so he does his best not to disturb her sleep as he makes his way to her. Like a silent sirens call an unspeakable force drags him through the house. His boots are left by the door, laces tucked in. His bag is heavy in his hand, more than just its physical weight tugging at him, and he's glad to be able to put it down by the bedroom door. 

“Welcome home,” she whispers stirring from her sleep as he slips beneath the sheets, freshly showered. 

[magpiepills]

Sweet Tooth

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Mom’s boyfriend Javier Pena x f reader

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: you’re a slut with a grudge and you set out to tease your mom’s boyfriend until he can’t take it anymore.

Warnings: SMUT, PWP, teasing, oral (f receiving) masturbation, temperature play, leg shaving, age gap, forbidden relationship, indidelity, precious little proof reading, unbeta’d, fucked up formatting, not my best work, but there’s a couple parts in here I’m pretty pleased with!

A word from the author: my submission for @vivian-pascal ‘s 500 follower celebration! My prompt is Javier Pena + Teasing. Congratulations on your milestone, Vi!! You’re wonderful and so deserving and I’m so grateful for your friendship! 🌷

I re-wrote this thing like 4 times and now I’m cutting it really close on the deadline!

You really shouldn’t.

It’s kinda fucked up. It’s hot.

Really hot. Ninety eight degrees Fahrenheit and humid. Sweat beads and rolls down your chest, glistening under the blistering Laredo sun as you lounge by the pool in your aluminum and vinyl chaise.

And for what?

For him.

You knew he was watching. He’s always watching any chance he gets. He plays it off cool and calm, chain smoking under the shade of the yellow umbrella and asking his cigarettes in a little orange ashtray your mom sat out just for him. “Not in the house, Javi!” She always scolded him, shooing him out the door, right into your spiderweb, willingly he went.

He’s around a lot more now. They’re getting serious, him and your mom. Even when she’s not here, days like today when she’s working an extra shift at the hospital, he’s here.

Smoking, dark eyes hidden by dark aviators, shirt unbuttoned to expose his own sweaty chest. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew they were on you.

You knew from the time you laid eyes on him, picking your mom up for a date, leather jacket and tight jeans, all dark and broad shoulders and narrow hips. He shook your hand and let his eyes linger on your lips when you introduced yourself. You knew what you were going to do.

You started small, leaving your room in a crop top and sleep shorts, foregoing a bra when you sauntered into the kitchen for a glass of water as he sat at the table with a newspaper. You yawned and stretched, getting his attention and smiling when he zeroed in on your hardened nipples. When he snapped out of his little titty-induced trance and saw how you watched him he frowned and snapped the newspaper up and buried his

Nose in the baseball scores.

You upped the ante a bit, popping a workout tape into the VCR and bouncing along with the perky instructor while Javi lounged on the couch, waiting for your mom to shower. He watched unashamedly, leaning forward to rest him elbows on his knees while he watched. “Don’t tire yourself out, sweetheart,” he smirked “she likes a long shower.”

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip when you stood in the bathroom in your bra and the skimpiest panties you owned, door open wide and one leg resting on the sink while you shaved. He watched until

You were done, tapped the razor against the porcelain, and twisted your body around, lifting your knee to give him an unobstructed view of your barely covered pussy, and asking innocently “did I miss anything, Javier?” He huffed and walked away, pulling the door shut behind him, but not before you saw the tell-tale bulge in his Levis.

You sucked popsicles and hummed happily when you had nearly the whole thing in your mouth and sticky juicy running down your chin. “Cute.” He said, and looked away, but didn’t hide the way he palmed his hard cock.

You dared him to touch you. You bent over the couch to look for your keys, presenting your ass and the outline of your pussy as you felt around for the keys that you knew were in your purse. You swore you felt the heat of his hand ghosting a hair’s breadth away from the bare back of your thigh.

There was no real plan to any of this, no grand scheme of punishment or revenge. You had a grudge and you needed to get laid. Your mom was a bitch who brought home men, devoted herself to them, and seemed quite content to let you, her only daughter, take a back seat to her love life for the last 22 years. Javi was just like every man, letting his dick do all the thinking, never seeming to care about the ethics of leering at his girlfriend’s daughter, easily half his age.

This was going to be your day. You plucked an ice cube from your glass of lemonade and let it drip across your chest, melting and sliding across your skin, you drew abstract patterns that made your nipples peak. You licked the slippery ice and tugged the red triangle of your bikini top to the side, swirling the ice cube around the curve of your breast, shivering slightly at the cold. You freed the other breast and repeated the process, giggling at the way you suddenly chilled.

Javi’s full attention was on you now. His knees spread wide while he slumped down a bit in his patio chair, cigarette smoldering, forgotten between his fingers.

Taking another cube, you worked your way down your belly, swirling it lazily, stopping every few moments to bring it to your lips.

When you got to the top of your bikini bottom, dampened by the cool, dripping water, you paused. You thought for a moment, then let the ice cube fall to the hot concrete below you. With slow motion movements, you bring your hands to your hips, you toy with the loopy bows on either side and then gently tug their strings further and further, until mute little bow is unraveled and the fabric falls loose over your mound.

You run your hands over your thighs and your stomach where melted ice pools in your belly button before letting one hand dip down to cup your pussy.

Javi shifted in his seat, stubbing out his cigarette and wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. You watched him watch you, smug and self-satisfied at his discomfort. You hoped he was at war with himself, hoped he felt like a creep.

You swirled your fingers over your folds, varying the speed and pressure as you felt your wetness spread, slicking it over your clit, smearing your puffy lips, reveling in the messiness of it all.

Javis chest heaved, his jaw twitched in frustration, and suddenly he was standing, smells legs of his chair scraping against the concrete and he was crossing the yard to cast his shadow over you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, as sweat damped his shirt. He was quite a sight.

You didn’t answer, just groaned and looked up at him through your eyelashes. His eyes traveled down your body until they settled on your hand, your fingers working your clit insistently.

Javi’s plush lips fell open when you reached further, slipping your middle and ring fingers into your dripping center. You panted, pumping them in and out in shallow motions. Javi’s lip moves in silent curses until you pull your hand free, fingers shining with your arousal, reaching up to delicately rest the wet pad of your fingers against his lower lip.

He wasted no time in sucking your fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking your flavor from them, ravenous for you. When he had his fill, he chased your taste with icy lemonade from your glass.

His tongue was cold when he ran it over your folds. Once, twice, then sucking your clit into his mouth like he had a grudge of his own. He ate your cunt with fervor, unmatched by any man before, and split you open with two thick fingers. Your whines were too loud, too desperate, he shoved his slick fingers into your mouth, a taste of your own medicine.

“Quiet!” He rasped, smacking your thigh “Fucking tease. Do you want everyone to know what a slut you are?” Before diving back into your wet, desperate pussy with renewed vigor.

Your orgasm racked your body, twisting in his grasp you came hard, panting his name so that anyone who heard would know that Javier Pena was a whore.

[aviationgeek2024]

250 posts!

Here’s to the next 250!!! Thank you….

[usaac-official]

Another aviation milestone today with the first flight of Jim Slattery's SB2C-1A Helldiver after restoration by Westpac in Colorado Springs. They were hoping to get her done in time to make the August 17-18 Pike's Peak Airshow and it looks like she'll be able to fly there publicly as well.

With her completion there are now three airworthy Helldivers in the world; Fagen's newly completed SB2C-5 the CAF's SB2C-5, and now Slattery's SB2C-1

[responsivethoughts]

The Grumman X-29 Experimental Aircraft

The Grumman X-29 was an experimental aircraft developed by the United States in the 1980s, aimed at testing advanced aviation technologies. One of its most unique features was its forward-swept wings, which improved maneuverability and reduced drag. However, this design introduced significant aerodynamic challenges, such as the tendency of the wings to twist under stress. To address this, the X-29 utilized advanced composite materials, which provided the necessary strength without adding excess weight.

The X-29 was inherently unstable due to its forward-swept wings, necessitating a sophisticated digital fly-by-wire control system. This system allowed a computer to continuously make adjustments to keep the aircraft stable during flight. Additionally, the aircraft featured canard control surfaces, located in front of the main wings, which enhanced control and maneuverability, particularly at high angles of attack.

Another key feature of the X-29 was its variable-geometry engine inlets, designed to optimize airflow into the engine across different flight conditions. This design allowed the aircraft to maintain efficiency at various speeds and altitudes. Together, these innovative design elements made the X-29 a complex and advanced aircraft for its time.

The X-29 first flew on December 14, 1984, under the management of NASA and the United States Air Force. Two X-29 aircraft were constructed, and they accumulated over 400 test flights. These tests focused on exploring the aircraft's unique aerodynamic and flight control characteristics, providing valuable data on how forward-swept wings performed under various conditions.

The primary objective of the X-29 program was to investigate technologies that could be used in future fighter aircraft, with a particular focus on improving maneuverability and control at high angles of attack. Although the X-29 was never intended to enter production, the insights gained from its development contributed to future advancements in aircraft design.

While the X-29 did not see operational service, its legacy is significant. The technologies it explored, including forward-swept wings, composite materials, and digital flight controls, paved the way for innovations in fighter aircraft. Today, the X-29 is remembered as an important milestone in the study of unconventional aircraft designs and aerodynamics.

An interesting and lesser-known fact about the Grumman X-29 is that, despite its radical design, the aircraft reused components from existing fighter jets to save on development costs. Specifically, the fuselage of the X-29 was derived from the Northrop F-5A Freedom Fighter, and its landing gear was taken from the General Dynamics F-16 Fighting Falcon. This blending of cutting-edge technology with proven components from earlier aircraft helped keep the project within a more manageable budget, demonstrating a creative approach to experimental aircraft design during that era.