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?!?!

imagine rami malek reading one of those in-flight magazines on the airplane. he opens the magazine to read the first page and immediately falls asleep for the rest of his flight. he wakes up as the plane lands and realizes he missed his chance to get some airline peanuts. he sulks as he gets off the plane peanutless, not making eye contact with anyone

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One to One on Twitter
“Read all about our Ambassador @Jenna_Coleman_'s fave #London picks in this issue of #HighLife @British_Airways ✈️️✈️️#jennacoleman #jenna”

New Jenna interview in British Airway’s in-flight magazine. Some interesting tidbits here about her current favourite dishes and what she loves in London. I think that photo of her is new too. Uploaded by One to One, one of the charities she is an ambassador for.

Photograph by Horatio Salinas

Sparkling Jewels Take Flight

Before she created the Georgian-inspired fine-jewelry line Larkspur & Hawk, Emily Satloff was immersed in the world of antiques: She worked as a curator of decorative arts at the New York Historical Society, a consultant for the Metropolitan Museum of Art and a dealer of 18th-century jewelry.

See more here

I was tagged by @my-secret-sketchpad, thanks for that! (even though I just ended up letting of some steam again doing this)

Name: Ela

Nicknames: Starzig, Brohomo 2, person

Zodiac Sign:

Height: about sixty meters from sea level

Orientation: very good, take me to the forests and I won’t come out (except as pansexual ba-dumpts)

Ethnicity: something between alien and goblin (looks to both shoulders) or are you asking if I’m Finnish?

Favourite Fruit:

Favourite Season: winter (autum’s good too, they all have the moments that make me get pissed at how beautiful everything is)

Favourite Book: Go Rin No Sho

Favourite Comic (this is a setup, do not copy unless you’d like to): well there is this magazine called Flight that published visual short stories from all over the world from various artists and it’s-. just. !!! (so touching, colourful, versatile and creative)

Favourite manga/manwha (again): Chrono Crusade, Hamster Diary, Case Closed, The Bride of the Water God and B***k b***

Favourite Flower:

Favourite tree (I planted this): just… everything… Bamboos, pines, spruces, cherry trees, apple trees, oaks and those with heart shaped leaves that are called lehmus in Finnish.

Favourite scent: spices and warm food

Favourite Colour: bright red

Favourite Animal: wolf

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Cocoa: all mixed together in one giant böwl

Average Sleep Hours: I wake up at four p.m. (if I do) and write at nights (like I’m doing now - oh wait it’s morning)

Cat or Dog Person?: I fear cat claws, but both animals are extraordinarily enlivening. Sidenote: why is it always cat or a dog? Why not are you a Venuses flower basket (a kind of sponge) or an arthropod person? First off those are beautiful (and, completely unrelated, given as wedding gifts in Japan because the shrimp that live in them symbolize loyalty) and most animals on Earth are arthropods. Doesn’t anyone like like bees or shrimps or ants or butterflies or [insert infinite species] or if you’re going to be bias towards chordate, could it be are you a hippo or a  Gracile capuchin monkey person in the very utmost least!

Favourite Fictional Character: Sherlock. Cheshire Cat. The Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp edition). Alice Kingsleigh. Rabbit, Spine & Little Steve. Rosette from Chrono Crusade.. There must be loads of characters I fancy, but at this late hour can’t come up with them.

Number of blankets you sleep with: 2 ½

Dream trip: Australia, or just driving/rowing anywhere with a reliable car/boat exploring cultures and architecture. Japan. Ireland would be quite nice, Scotland, Wales. Even England.

Blog Created: two months ago

I pass the tag on to @sienipeikko, @kotochi and @soturitoukka, if there is something you have yet to share (and be as kind to tell me if I wrote gibberish so I can delete/correct it if/when I wake up) 🙏🙌

come on; nsfw, mile-high handjobs, grace orgasms, overstimulation, Dean is a nervous flyer, for nestingangels


“I’ve changed my mind,” Dean says, to no one in particular. It’s the fifth time he’s said it since the plane took off.

Not that anyone is listening. On his left, Cas is reading a boring, in-flight magazine. On his right, Sam is sleeping, his head tipped against the window and his long, sasquatch legs sprawled into Dean’s space. Dean can’t breathe. An old friend of Bobby’s is having a vampire problem outside of London, and now Dean is trapped in a metal tube that’s going to crash into the Atlantic. He’s going to drown. He’s going to float around the ocean for five years like Tom Hanks. He’s going to get eaten by a shark. He’s –

“Everything’s fine,” Cas says finally.

The plane makes a noise, and Dean digs his fingers into the armrests. “That doesn’t sound fine!”

“You need to relax,” Cas says, turning a page. He’s infuriatingly calm for someone who’s never been on a plane before.

“You’re not nervous?” Dean asks, his voice thin around the edges. “Not at all?”

“I have wings. This is hardly the first time I’ve flown.”

“That’s different,” Dean insists. “That’s just –” he wiggles his fingers and makes a pffffft sound.

Cas sighs and tucks the magazine away, then rests his hand on Dean’s thigh. That usually calms Dean when he’s all worked up, but he justs grumbles under his breath and starts bouncing his other leg. Beside him, Sam shifts in his seat and mumbles out a thick, bleary sound.

“Why don’t you take a nap?” Cas asks.

“I can’t.”

The plane makes another noise, and Dean hisses between his teeth. Cas studies him for a second, then pats his thigh and says, “Come on.”

Dean hesitates – for some reason, sitting feels safer than walking around – but Cas just gestures for him to stand, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Once Dean is in the aisle, Cas nudges him toward the rear of the plane. Dean glances at the other passengers as he passes them: a few are sleeping, and a few more are reading. A couple kids are listening to music, and one woman is knitting, and why the fuck is everyone so calm?

Cas stops at the bathroom and opens the door. “Here.”

“What –? No! You –”

Cas pushes Dean inside, glancing up and down the aisle before crowding in behind him. It’s tiny and smells like chemical air freshener, and Dean can’t turn around because his hip is wedged against the sink. The door latches with a click. Cas squeezes Dean’s shoulders and runs his hands down Dean’s sides, then presses a slow, wet kiss to the back of Dean’s neck.

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