in flight magazine

4

Cries in English, Spanish, and Korean. 😭
This man is the reason I don’t know what the fuck a bias is lately. Like Youngjae who? Yugyeom who? All I see is a rude ass PARK MF JINYOUNG! This man is too damn handsome WITH NO EFFORT. WHY?!?!

[Two-shot] Eighteen Hours (Saeran x Reader): Epilogue — Distraction

Your nose was practically pressed up against the cool glass of the window pane as you watched the sky grow bigger and bigger while the earth below became smaller and smaller, till it eventually vanished completely behind the boundary line of white clouds above.

One little thing marred the pure splendor of blue and white outside, however.

Just above the centre, there was a blurred image of a mop of red hair suspended in the middle of the clouds outside. You couldn’t help the grin that stretched your lips apart, as you turned to your right, eyeing the man whose red hair was always distracting you from your cloud-viewing mid-flight.

He raised an eyebrow, looking up from the book he was reading when he noticed you turn his way.

“Done already? Can we switch seats now?”

You sent him a teasing glance, shaking your head. “Saeran, it’s only been fifteen minutes.”

He narrowed his eyes, flatly staring at you in return. He didn’t seem to believe you, which was why he glanced at his watch to check the time. True to your word, it had only been fifteen minutes since the plane started moving, and that only made him release a frustrated sigh. He was impatient. Terribly so.

You thought it was cute whenever he had his lips pressed down like this, the lines on his forehead creasing ever so slightly when his eyebrows drew down in a frown. His fingers were drumming on the front of the book cover, and he kept changing his seating position every few minutes. He was restless, and you knew he was more than eager to change seats with you, even though he had been the one to voluntarily give you the window seat ticket on this flight.

“So, why did you stop looking out? It’s not like you to get distracted,” he commented, trying to make some small talk to make the time go by quicker.

True. It really wasn’t like you to stop looking out the window to look at something else.

“Your hair is distracting,” you answered plainly. It was true. His red hair was so infuriatingly distracting. You could see its reflection in the window, to the tiniest baby strands at the top of his head that swayed with the cool air in the cabin. Like a moving ball of fire in the sky. A meteorite, maybe.

He paused a bit, as if thinking of a suitable comeback in response, but he either couldn’t manage it, or simply thought it too tiresome to try. So he quietly pulled up the hoodie of his jacket to cover his red hair, all while still narrowing his eyes at you.

You chuckled at the gesture, reaching over to insert your hand under the hood of his jacket, threading your fingers through his soft, red hair. It felt nice, like you were petting the head of a little puppy.

“Didn’t you say it was a distraction?” he asked, taking hold of your wrist gently to pry your hand away from his head, before he removed his hood and shook his head in an apparently efficient method to undo the mess you had made of his hair.

“Yes, but I never said I didn’t like it,” you replied, watching with delight as his lips parted and his eyes widened, his gaze now incredulous before he looked away, his ears reddening. That seemed about enough to get him to zip his mouth and to stop pestering you to switch seats with him.

You laughed a little to yourself. It was fun to tease Saeran like this. He was always calm, cool, collected, and in moments like these, you felt proud to be one of the few people to see this side to him: shy, speechless, mildly irritated.

Deciding you were better off using your limited time in the window seat wisely, you turned back to the sky outside, trying to empty your thoughts as you looked at the sea of clouds below, like small, quiet waves along the shore of a beach. You could imagine them rising, receding, without the sound of water crashing on land.

And there it was again. The red hair. The moving target. You could see his face too, the tip of his nose scrunched up slightly, absorbed in his book, his golden eyes hungrily devouring the words on its pages.

You groaned inwardly. It was as Saeran pointed out. It wasn’t like you to get so distracted on a flight. You loved the window seat. It was a must-have on any flight. The clouds outside were your companion, and you could never tear your eyes away from the window.

Except now, things had changed.

Now you had another companion, instead of the clouds, on your flights. Now you had a distraction, one who stole your breath and attention far more effortlessly than the clouds could. Now, you could never decide what you wanted to watch: the clouds, or the subtle changes in his face that he only allowed to show for the merest of seconds.

After a while, the clouds got boring. They were always the same. Just white, against an endless blue. But he, on the other hand, was that red spot, that enigma, in your line of sight, and made it so that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his reflection on the window. He was always changing, unpredictable; there were so many more things you had yet to discover about him. The clouds had bared themselves to you over the years, but not him. You wanted to unravel all the layers that covered him. It was exciting, an adventure all on its own.

And now, you couldn’t tell if you wanted the window seat purely to look at the clouds, or so you could secretly observe him through the reflection on the glass.

You were jolted out of your thoughts when you suddenly felt his breath on your ears.

“Wow,” he breathed, and you could smell the scent of peppermint on him. His scent. He was leaning over, his cheek nearly touching yours as he looked out, wide-eyed at the beautiful view outside the window.

“Yeah,” you agreed, though you weren’t really focusing on the sky anymore. You were acutely aware how close he was to you, how his hand was pressed against your thigh, the ring on his finger nudging your right pinky finger.

You felt a sudden rush of emotions, your chest swelling with adoration for him. He was beautiful, far more beautiful than the clouds outside, far more beautiful than what he thought of himself. You adored the excited gleam that lit up his golden eyes; you often saw something similar flicker in his eyes each time he laid his eyes on you. At the start you thought it was just your imagination, but now, now that you were on your way to your honeymoon destination, you knew that those little moments had all been real.

You loved him so much your heart could burst right this instant.

At that moment his eyes darted down to meet yours, the smile on his face faltering when he realized that you had been staring at him all this while. You watched in amusement as a light pink color dusted his cheeks, sputtering, “W-What? Is there something on my face?”

“No,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. Then, moving purely on instinct, you tilted your head upwards, pressing your lips softly against his cheek. A smile lifted your lips as you pulled away and noticed his Adam’s apple move up and down as he swallowed thickly, his eyes darkening as he trained his gaze on you.

Or more accurately, your lips.

“We can switch seats now, if you want,” you spoke, nudging him back so you could stand and give him the prized seat by the window.



He folded his arms across his chest, emitting a small sigh as he watched the clouds go by. Just a few seconds ago he had been amazed by this view, the sight of enormously fluffy clouds crowding in the sky, as if fighting for his attention.

But now, something else had his attention. Or more specifically, someone. He could see her head clearly, reflected right smack in the center of the window pane. She had his attention all to herself. And she knew it. He could tell, from the way she was smiling to herself while pretending to flip through the in-flight-entertainment magazine in her hands.

He resisted the urge to bring his hand up to his cheek, at the spot where the feel of her soft lips lingered. He wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of seeing it. She liked to ruffle his feathers, to make him stumble over his words, to make him look like a fool.

Well, in some ways he supposed he was a fool. And he always would be, when it came to her.

Absently, he traced the cool metal of the ring that adorned his fourth finger with his thumb, and looked once more out the window, at the clouds that once fascinated him to no end, and then to the reflection of the girl who had stolen his attention from them.

She was a distraction. And she seemed rather proud of the fact, too. Every now and then he would catch her sneaking sideways glances at him through the window, a cheeky smile lifting her lips as she tried to catch any more slip-ups from him.

She was beautiful, wise, a maddening tease. The strangest girl he had met yet, but also the one he had come to love more than life itself.

He felt a tap on his hand then, and he turned to look at her now. Her hair, her curious eyes, her cute nose, her lifted cheeks, her soft, pink, luscious lips. Immediately, his mind went back to when she just kissed him on the cheek, and he felt heat begin to crawl up his neck to his ears once more.

“So?” she asked, and he had to ask her to repeat herself. She just couldn’t choose between two movies to watch, so he just told her to watch both. Not helpful, apparently, even though this was an eighteen-hour flight, where she would have plenty of time to watch both.

As she settled back in her seat, selecting the movie with her remote, he couldn’t help but continue to stare at her. Not from the window’s reflection, but her, right there, right next to him. Sometimes he just couldn’t believe that she would be willing to stay by his side, that she could love someone as weird and strange and flawed like him, but then each time he saw her with him, each time their eyes met and she flashed him the warmest, brightest smile that could rival the sun itself, he would be convinced once more, grounded in the truth of her existence and their relationship.

And just then, he felt a sudden urge to kiss her, to feel her lips on his, to take her by surprise just as she had done with him earlier. It would only be fair, after all.

Saeran wasn’t one to act on impulse, but for that moment, he decided he would.

So without any warning, he placed his hand behind the nape of her neck, pulling her in towards him. He heard her gasp at his sudden movement, and his lips curled up into a brief smile before he captured her lips in his, silencing any protests she might have had on the tip of her tongue.

Sweet. He tasted cherries, no doubt because of the candy that she liked to bring on board with her. She was soft, her lips melting against his as she responded in kind, although he could tell she was holding back because they were on the plane and they were in plain sight.

He brushed his tongue lightly against her lips, and smiled to himself when he felt vibration of her quiet moan against his lips. They parted obediently for him, her tongue darting out to meet his.

Instead of going further however, he pulled back, satisfied immensely with the dazed look in her eyes as she stared at him questioningly, her now pinker lips glazed with moisture. Revenge success.

“Saeran..?”

He only gave her a smirk in reply, before swiftly turning away so he could hide the blush blooming in his cheeks, the lingering taste of cherries in his mouth.

At least, now he wouldn’t be the only one distracted on the flight.

…But on hindsight, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to do this so early. After all, they had eighteen hours more on the flight, which meant eighteen hours of having to restrain himself and maintain his cool composure in front of her.

So he looked out at the window, trying to empty his mind by staring at the clouds that were passing by.

And there her reflection was again, her eyes now trained on the screen, while her thumb traced the outline of her lips. Her soft, sweet, pink lips.

With a defeated sigh, he screwed his eyes shut, allowing himself to sink into the darkness instead.

…This flight was certain to be eighteen hours more of agony.




A/N: Yay, done with this one! Hope you enjoyed ;) 

anonymous asked:

Do you have any advice for a first time flyer? Tips for going through the process, the long flight, and exiting the airport/picking up your luggage and all specifically that would have helped you in hindsight? I have a trip coming up and I'm slightly nervous even after googling tips since I'll likely be flying alone. Thanks ^^

As someone who has flown more than a bit before, and usually by myself, I will give you The Sudden Adult’s Guide to Surviving Plane Trips ™.

Checking In:

  • For most flights, you can “check in” as early as 24 hours before your flight. This will allow you to print your boarding pass at home/library/etc. and cut some of the time you’d be wasting standing in a long-ass line waiting to print your ticket. Gotta love technology.
  • Check your flight the morning of, or a few hours, before you’re scheduled to leave for the airport. Make sure the time hasn’t changed due to weather/mechanical issues/etc. No one wants to arrive at the airport to find out their fucking flight was delayed 5 hours and they now have to wait at a crappy airport coffee shop.
  • Get dropped off at the terminal for your flight. The best way to ensure this is to have a general idea of where your terminal will be. You don’t have to be dropped off there, but it saves you from walking and dragging your luggage down to your airline’s bag check.

Luggage Tips:

  • TIP YOUR BAG PERSON. That person who you drop your luggage off with when you arrive at the airport? Tip them. I usually give $5 per bag. A nice tip and friendly attitude ensures your bag arrives at its destination (usually).
  • If you have a black/brown/gray suitcase, try making it stand out. Usually I see people tie ribbons to the handles. Personally, I have a lime green ribbon and a pink skull luggage tag that are hard to miss (but then, my regular suitcase is also metallic, so it’s a pleasant eyesore).
  • Put luggage tags on your suitcase and carry-on. Make sure your information on the tags is up-to-date. In case your shit goes missing, you want to give the airport a way of finding you.
  • Know what your airline considers a carry-on size. Sometimes airlines will change the carry-on requirements because why not do things to piss off passengers? Check by calling the airline directly or Googling “What is a carry-on bag + name of airline.” Usually you are allowed one carry-on and one personal bag (purse/backpack/laptop case).

TSA/Security Tips:

  • Know the 3-1-1 rule and follow it. Keep your tiny liquids bag in an easily-accessible front or side pocket so you can whip it out without digging through your bag. Same goes for laptops. Make it easy to pull out, because it will have to go in a bin by itself.
  • Wear shoes that easily slip on and off, because you will have to take them off to go through security. Also, wear socks, because who knows what the fuck’s on that airport floor.
  • Take any coats/hoodies off while you wait in line. TSA agents will ask you to take these off anyway, so might as well save the people behind you some time. Same goes for any jewelry, belts, or cellphones that will set off the metal detector. Put them in a pocket of your carry-on.
  • Pay attention to the line when it moves. As a (former) frequent flyer, I cannot explain how annoying it is to be stuck in a line behind someone who is not paying attention. Don’t be that person.
  • Also, if you’re not a frequent flyer, do not get in the experienced flyer line. We can smell the inexperience.
  • Keep your ID and ticket (and passport, if required) easily accessible on your person. This will make going through any additional security nice and easy for you.

Airport Tips:

  • Find out where your terminal is, then worry about getting food or drink. Nothing is more stressful than finally getting your $20 sandwich and then having to run around a large airport trying to find your terminal. Find your terminal and then embark on the search for food.
  • Do not leave your bags unattended. This should really speak for itself.
  • Pee before you fly. Like Ma always said, use the loo before you fly, boo…especially if you need to poo.
  • Good fucking luck finding a place to charge your phone/laptop/nintendo 3DS if you’re flying out during a busy time (holidays, weekends, etc.). Solve the problem by charging these things the night before you leave.

Plane Tips:

  • Put your carry-on in the overhead bin that’s near your seat. If you have anything in there that you might want during the flight (magazine, notebook, etc.), consider getting it out before you get on the plane.
  • Sit in the seat you’ve been assigned. Unless it’s a Southwest flight (which lets passengers choose their own seats upon boarding), your ticket will say where you’ll sit. Sit there. Don’t be the seat-stealing prick of the plane.
  • If you’re nervous, listen to the flight attendant at the beginning. They will explain all regular and emergency procedures. Sometimes knowing how to survive if shit hits the fan can make you feel better.
  • If you think you may  feel sick during the flight, try chewing mint-flavored gum. Gum also helps with you ears popping. If the flight serves drinks, request something soothing like ginger ale. If not, buy a $3 bottle of lemon-lime soda from a place in the airport. My personal experience is that ginger ale solves all flight sickness (or maybe that’s a placebo effect, I don’t know and don’t care, because I like ginger ale).
  • Don’t get up when the flight attendant brings out the little drink cart. There’s never a way around it, so just sit tight until it passes you if you need to get up and pee.
  • Try getting to know your seat neighbor(s), if you’re comfortable with that. Last time I flew, I had an interesting discussion with the old dude sitting next to me about the status of the US economy.

Landing & Leaving:

  • BRACE YOURSELF! Sort of kidding, but if you’re like me and planes make you nauseous, you might want to prepare yourself (I know that I personally feel most sick during turbulence and landing).
  • Don’t bother rushing to get up and stand. The damn plane’s not going to take off again while you’re still on it, so chill out and take your time. If you’re on a flight that’s part of a connecting flight, they’ll usually ask passengers who need to leave to make their next flight to get off first. Some people are jerks and will pretend just so they can leave slightly sooner than others.
  • Be careful when you open the overhead bin. They aren’t kidding when they say stuff may have shifted around. I once saw a lady get beaned on the forehead by her kid’s carry-on.
  • Make your way to the baggage claim. If you have to pee, do it now, because luggage can take a while, so you might as well empty your bladder while you can. And if you’re lost, just follow the people form your plane, or ask someone who looks like an airport employee.
  • Stand around the luggage carousel and wait for your bag. A lot of people crowd around the opening, but you can stand out and wait near the end. The bags go around in circles for fucks sake, so it’s not like you only have one chance to grab your bag. Also, double-check that it is your bag.
  • Check that your ride knows when and where to pick you up. Let them know your flight number, arrival time, and terminal so they can be on the lookout. Pick someone reliable (I’ve been left waiting before, I can tell you it sucks ass).

So…yep. That’s all the tips I can think of.

-The Sudden Adult

PS. If you’re gonna fly, don’t let your arms get tired! HA. HA. HA.

4

Blogging about last weekend on the beach as I currently look out the window to snow/ sleet in the Mountains…

Fri-Sun: Impromptu trip to Daytona. Wasn’t a fan of the middle seat and no internet on a 3+ hour flight, and being separated from Os, but I was a fan of the Tito’s vodka and Sprite Zero, and in-flight magazine crossword puzzle.

Sun. Sand. Breeze. Beautiful Water. Cider and Coronas and Margaritas and Mexican Food and Getting to know Oso’s really good friend from Law School. And a tiny sunburn on a porch on the river.

Hellacious Monday trip. Missed flights, more middle seats, a panic attack that I wouldn’t make it home for work in time. A patient Os as I cried in the corner of the airport waiting to maybe possibly board a full plane. By some miracle and a forever on-it Oso, I made 2 flights and got to my office with 10 minutes to spare.

Since then, I have been lazy and unmotivated. I worked out once this week and slept and ate pizza and candy. The general consensus is that the semester and all the travel has caught up with me, and now that I have a moment to breathe, it’s hitting me.

Feeling more motivated today. 2 miles on the treadmill and some rowing done. Eggplant parm planned for dinner and maybe a happy hour beer if I am willing to brave the *now* hail (Colorado…why?).

Whoever wrote this for the current British Airways in flight magazine needs a good slap. Hope Louis and Harry didn’t see it 😐( in an article about The Vamps, April. BA flight from Miami to Heathrow)

I shot the coverstory for Swiss Magazine that is out today including awesome T Michael as a cover. Swiss Magazine is the on-flight magazine of Swiss Airline, and they are now flying directly to Bergen. So woheeey! Here is what to check out!

Jeremy Clarkson: My Worst Year

He is Britain’s most successful TV presenter – and its most notorious. Twelve months after being sacked by the BBC for punching his producer, a period in which he also lost his mother and his home, Jeremy Clarkson talks to Charlotte Edwardes about life after Top Gear

Published March 18, 2016

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Thirty Seven Thousand Feet

A/N: Okay so phan-sane requested this about a month ago and today someone else mentioned phan aeroplane sex in my inbox (as you do) and I remembered I had a half written fic about it and said that, and then dauntlester said I should really write it so um…VOILA.

Also, I do not condone joining the mile-high club and would like to say it is actually an offense…so kids, don’t be silly, slap his willy and don’t do it. Oh my GOD.

Title: Thirty Seven Thousand Feet

Genre: smut and banter everywhere (and something else when they’re done WHOOPS)

Description: Because twelve hours on an aeroplane is twelve hours without sex, and that’s too damn difficult for Dan and Phil to comprehend.

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He has a hard on, and it’s all Dan’s bloody fault.

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