#Airline Bin

[fluorescentbrains]

society if we boarded planes back to front window to aisle in an orderly fashion instead of splitting up the boarding groups based on ticket class and esoteric customer loyalty rankings

[trevlad-sounds]

Tuesday 21 November Mixtape 398 “Hidden Place EXCLUSIVE” Ambient Drone Electronic Experimental Space Tuesdays & Saturdays. Support the artists and labels. Don't forget to tip so future shows can bloom.

Trevlad Sounds-Welcome in you wonderful listener 00:00

CV Vision-Error I00II0 00:31

Christian Fiesel-Nothing Left To Say, No Regrets, Just A Quiet Place 00:54

Coda Nautica-Chant 03:23

Sebastian Mullaert, Eitan Reiter-Enter The Spiral 10:13

2xirtam-Time 18:12

arovane-September 25:10

Correlations-AUTUMN SONG 25:55

Benge-Todays ARP2500 31:34

Wojciech Golczewski-The Puppets Dream 34:34

Salvatore Mercatante-l'aqua 38:20

Floresta Oblíqua-Asteroid Paranoid 44:14

Curved Light-Disappearing Through The Passage Of Time 49:43

John Louis Kluck-Fragile Space 52:46

Martin Stürtzer-Trisolar 58:07

Pete Bassman-Wolf Eater 1:06:40

Twenty Three Hanging Trees-Ultime déroute 1:11:25

HAWKSMOOR-Splendor Solis 1:17:05

Cold-Strobe Light Network 1:20:24

Naqada-Hidden Beam 1:35:04

Armand Torrx-Where Mountains Reign 1:44:28

Lyndsie Alguire-stolen kiss 1:46:34

Benn Jordan-Farther Out 1:48:07

The Irresistible Force-Magic Acid 1:49:47

[navree]

i forgot that the newsroom has this big dramatic moment where don tells the captain of his airplane about the osama bin laden raid and the reason that compels him to do so is because he’s on a united airlines flight and he’s only just now figured it out and that it’s treated like this heartfelt emotional thing and not the stupidest thing ever

[frothytundra]

Keep Calm And Don't Carry On

My travels over the holidays took me to visit family in Edmonton Alberta and Monterey California. In doing so, I took a total of seven airline flights and I watched a lot of people wrestling with luggage. Image via PickPik.com Now that airlines charge about $35 (give or take) for a standard-sized checked suitcase, more people choose to use a smaller bag and put it in an overhead bin in the…

[thriftedtchotchkes]

waiting to spill

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: mike never thought your week-long trip home would lead to the discovery of a costly new craving

warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, breeding kink, smut, desperate!mike, unprotected piv, creampie, riding, fingering, blue balls, mentions of pregnancy, cum play

word count: 3.9k

(based on this request)

Mike's praying the call goes through this time because if it doesn't, he might just lose his mind. You were supposed to land 20 minutes ago, but it's already half past 4 and your phone's still off.

Will it show how many missed calls you have? God, he hopes not. He's been redialing for the better part of an hour, hoping you landed early, but luck clearly isn't on his side. Every time it goes to voicemail, your voice taunts him. Just another reminder that you're not here—unreachable and untouchable.

Shitty fucking airline. He knew you should've taken an earlier flight, but he didn't want to be that guy. The one who tells you what to do and when, and makes decisions for his own benefit. He's a better guy than that, a better boyfriend than that, it's just—fuck, what is taking so long? 

One more time. He'll try you one more time, and if it doesn't connect, he'll go sit on the couch and distract himself until you call him. He's already waited this long. He can suck it up a little longer. Probably.

He hits redial for the umpteenth time, his forehead thunking against the wall next to the landline, and then something miraculous happens. It rings.

Once, twice, and then you pick up. He doesn't wait for you to answer. Any patience he had left flew out the window hours ago and he doesn't care if you know it.

"Babe?"

You laugh softly on the other end, and it tugs at his heart...and his dick. Seatbelts click open in the background, and sounds of movement and chatter filter through the speaker.

"Hey, you. I actually just landed. I'll call you back once I get through customs, okay?" you reply, bright as ever. 

It sets him off worse than he expected. You're so much more potent in real-time than on voicemail, and it's fucking with his sense of urgency. He doesn't want to rush you, but he needs you. So badly.

"W-wait. Can you come over? After you're done with the airport stuff, I mean," he manages to get out, interjecting cautiously before you can hang up.

"I was gonna stop home to drop off my bags and take a quick shower, but I can come over after that," you reply distractedly, likely dealing with overhead bins and other passengers trying to deplane. 

He shakes his head, gripping the phone a little too tightly as he bites back a frustrated whine. That'll take too long. The airport's about an hour's ride from your apartment, and by the time you're done showering—no. No, just come to him. It's a shorter ride to his house, anyway.

"Just—you can do all of that here. Stay over and I'll drive you back to your place in the morning. Please?" he asks, desperation beginning to bleed into his voice. 

It pulls your attention back to him almost immediately, and he hates how good that feels.

"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" you counter, misreading his plea as an emergency. 

Your phone keeps shifting like it's tucked against your shoulder, and now it sounds like you're moving faster, hurrying like he wants you to, but for the wrong reasons. 

"Everything's fine, I just need to see you," he says, willing you to understand. "Babe, I really need to see you."

He's too ashamed to spell it out. What would he even say? If he doesn't cum inside you soon, he thinks he might die? He's horny, not pathetic.

"Mike, that doesn't sound fine...," you sigh on the other end, your quickening footsteps audible through the receiver. 

"Please."

You pause for a second, and his heart leaps into his throat. Don't say no. Please, don't say no.

"Gimme an hour, okay? I'll catch a cab to your place as soon as I can," you finally agree.

He breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, but it's louder than he realizes and you clock it on the spot.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, all good. I'm just glad you're back. Feels like it's been forever," he mumbles, somehow sated and yet anticipating your arrival more than ever. 

He shifts anxiously from one foot to the other, wincing at the unexpected friction against the growing problem between his legs. The atmosphere around you changes and your responding laugh blends into the bustle of casual conversations and overhead announcements in your terminal. 

"Can't survive one week without me, huh? I guess I'm bringing you and Abby along next time I visit my parents," you joke, but it's getting harder to make out what you're saying. "Look, I'm almost at customs. I'll see you soon, I promise."

The call ends, and he's left with the loneliness of a dial tone and an empty house. He hangs up and plops down on the couch, clutching the TV remote like a lifeline while he desperately tries to ignore the painful tent in his boxers.

An hour. He can handle one more hour.

He can't handle one more hour. It's been 45 minutes and he feels like he's about to burst. The worst part? It's his own damn fault. 

He's the asshole who made the conscious decision not to jerk off the entire time you were gone, but he can't bring himself to regret it. He had his reasons. In about 15 minutes, it'll all be worth it.

Maybe less. 

There's a knock at the door, and he's up and off the couch so fast, he's surprised he doesn't have whiplash. He wrenches it open to find you on the other side, a little stunned by the abrupt greeting, but worth every second of blue balls he put himself through.

"Hey," he breathes out, winded by his mad dash and the relief of you finally being here. 

"Hey, yourself," you smile wryly. Your eyes drop to where he's not even remotely trying to hide his raging boner. "Ah-ha, so that's—"

But that's all you manage to say before he drags you into the house and slams your back against the door, shutting out your luggage and the cab driver still idling in the driveway. His lips crash into yours and you taste so good, it's dizzying. 

Remnants of Sprite and spearmint gum linger on your tongue as it meets his, and he groans, wondering how he went an entire week without this. All that time, deprived of your addictive touch and perfect tits while he tortured himself, waiting for you to come back to him.

He can't decide where to put his hands first, roaming and squeezing from your waist, up your shirt—which he's just realizing is his—to splay across your ribcage. Pressing you harder into the door, he separates from your lips to mouth at the underside of your jaw, mumbling his appreciation between each harsh bruise he sucks into your skin.

"Fuck, I missed you," he pants, shamelessly grinding into your hip for relief. He wants you to feel how hard you're making him, so you'll understand all those missed calls.

"Yeah? I can tell," you laugh breathily, running your hands up his chest, pushing his shirt up as you go. 

Your thumbs brush against his bare skin, sending a heady jolt straight to his cock, and suddenly none of this is moving fast enough. His hands drop to your ass, roughly tugging your hips into his, and you gasp in unison at the friction. Together, you fall into a frantic rhythm, rutting into each other like a pair of horny teenagers.

"Shit, Mike...," you moan his name, and he feels like he's dreaming. He has to be because nothing else in his waking world has ever felt this good.

Contrary to the rest of his body, he kisses you again slowly, savoring every noise he's coaxing from you and devouring them like a man starved. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer, and he swears he's never letting you leave this house again. 

If by some miracle he does, he's going to make sure you're pumped so full of him, you'll be leaking him the entire time you're gone, unable to think about anything else. And when you come back, he'll do it all over again.

Damnit, he needs you in his bed, now.

He backs away from the door with you still in his arms, leading you further into the house down a path you know by heart. Briefly, he separates from your lips to lift your shirt up and over your head, then discards his own before tugging down the cups of your bra to latch onto a nipple.

You hiss at the contact, trembling as he teases it with his teeth, and immediately reach behind you to unclasp the offending piece of fabric. It drops soundlessly to the floor along with your jeans, underwear, and finally his boxers. Nipping sharply at the sensitive skin one last time, he pulls away to admire you, trailing his fingers down your arms until your hands are in his.

You're fucking beautiful. Your lips are kiss-swollen and glossy, begging to be kissed again, and your thighs are...wet, fucking hell. Fuck, he missed you. His mouth starts to water at the thought of licking into you, fucking you with his tongue while your thighs quake on either side of his head, but the painful throbbing between his legs is starting to overwhelm him.

He's positive, now, that if he's not inside you soon, he'll actually die. He's not just horny, anymore. It's so far beyond that.

Four more agonizing steps backward and he's finally passing the threshold into his room, so close to being on his back with you bouncing on top of him—except he doesn't make it that far. 

The door shuts behind you, and then you're on your knees, wrapping those perfect fingers around his dick and guiding him between your lips. He panics. There's no way he's going to last if you try to blow him right now.

Tenderly, you lick a stray bead of precum off the tip, and his balls immediately draw up so tight, he has to slide your hand down to the base and squeeze to keep from cumming on the spot. He shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he inhales sharply through his nose.

"Babe, I can't...," he grits out, struggling to find the words to explain himself. "I'll cum too fast, you can't."

You grin, leaning forward to press your lips against his white-knuckled fist.

"That's sort of the whole point, isn't it?" you tease, trailing back to his cock, seconds away from giving him the most intense orgasm of his life.

"I need to fuck you," he blurts out. It's short and to the point, but there's no use in pretending he doesn't. At this point, he'll be lucky if he doesn't explode the second he's inside you. "I need to fuck you so bad right now, I feel like I'm going crazy."

You pause to look up at him, your eyes roving over his face, lingering on his angrily ticking jaw. You get it, now.

"Hey, it's okay—you're okay," you murmur, leaning forward to kiss away another drop of precum. He chokes back a groan and reflexively jerks away, and you take the hint to release your grip. "Okay, fuck me. Show me how much you missed me."

But you don't have any idea what you're asking for, do you? He missed you so much. There's so much catching up to do, and he has so little patience left.

He doesn't waste any more time. With every ounce of self-control he's got left, he drags you to your feet and towards the bed, trying his best not to manhandle you up the mattress and onto his lap. He fails epically. The second he's flat on his back with you grinding down on him, his patience becomes a thing of the past.

"You ready for me? Because I'm not gonna be able to stop, and I need you to feel good," he's starting to babble, but he has a feeling nothing he says from now on will make any sense, and he needs you to want it as much as he does.

His hands slide up your thighs to your waist, and when he tugs you closer to notch at your entrance, he can feel you clenching wetly around him.

"Shit—," he breathes out, his biceps tensing as he lifts you and lines himself up. He pushes in just enough for you to stretch around the tip, and you steady yourself on his chest, your palms searingly hot on his skin as you squeeze him a little harder.

"Let me make you feel good," he says again, even though you're already letting him, already yielding to his steady push and pull. Every inch he gives you feels like taking a shot of tequila, and it's making his head spin. If he could hear himself anymore, he'd realize he sounds wasted.

"Let me fill you up, please," he begs, rolling his hips up to lengthen his thrusts. They’re so much easier now that you’re dribbling down him—so much wetter—but you're so damn tight, he has to force himself to look away from where you're joined and gripping the hell out of him. "You know, I-I waited for you—waited to cum, I didn't cum at all."

"Mike...fuck. That's good. That's so good, baby," you tell him shakily. "Give it to me. Nice and deep, you deserve it."

He keens at the praise—he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried—and your nails bite into his skin in response, nose scrunching adorably as you gush around him. He knew you'd like that. He knew you'd want it. 

Look at his girl, so pretty on top of him, just waiting for him to bust inside you. Fleetingly, he wonders if you're still on birth control. Possessively, he doesn't care. Rationally, he knows he can't afford to knock you up, but shit—right now, he really fucking wants to. He imagines you in the same position you're in, horny and round with his baby, and suddenly he's never wanted anything so badly in his life.

He doesn't stop to think about whether or not he should. He doesn't stop at all, just like he warned you, not even when he's buried to the hilt and you're both struggling to adjust. 

He just buries himself in you again and again and again until the sound of your skin colliding with his becomes a wet thock-thock-thock that bounces off the walls of his bedroom. The springs beneath him squeak dangerously as he pushes his bedframe to its absolute limits, but he can’t hear any of that, either.

His senses are in overdrive, and all he can focus on is how you feel around him. And he’s not nearly as deep as he needs to be. Rougher than he means to, he grabs your ass with both hands and starts to force you up and down his cock, gripping hard enough to bruise. He’ll hate how much he likes the idea of that later. 

"S-so fucking pretty...gonna make me cum so hard. So much. Need you to take all of it," he pants with the exertion of lifting and dropping your full weight onto himself.

He can feel himself slamming into your cervix and desperately tries to think about anything else but emptying right into it, but the sight of you taking him like you were made for it makes it ten times worse.

Just looking at you makes him want to cum—your tits bouncing as you ride him, your pussy creaming down his cock and balls, and seeping into his sheets. Those pouty lips of yours moaning around pleas of harder and right there and don't stop, I'm cumming.

"Baby...babe—," your shattered voice cuts through the fog, and then he feels it. "M'cumming. I'm...Mike, keep going there, there. Don't stop, please don't stop."

Fucking hell, you're really cumming. Tight and wet, and clamping down on him like a vice. Somehow, he always forgets it's like this with you. That you cum this hard for him, that he's able to make you cum this hard for him. For a second, he feels overwhelmingly grateful. Then, he's planting his feet on the bed and fucking you so hard, you stop moaning and start screaming.

It's there. It's right there, so close he can feel it building everywhere. Sweat trickles down his temples, matting his curls to his forehead, and you brush them away, one hand braced on the mattress next to his head and the other buried in his hair as you ride out your high.  

His balls draw up so tight, it's painful, and he thinks he might start yelling too, but he's too focused on the chase. He's too busy watching, dumbfounded by the perfect body coming apart on top of him. 

The girl he waited for. 

He tries to tell you. He tries to open his mouth and tell you that you’re everything he thought he’d never have, and that he wants to keep you forever. That he wants to be part of you, that being inside you is one of the rare places he’s ever felt wanted. But that’s not what comes out. 

He’s too far gone now, and all he can manage is an incomprehensible stream of moans and sighs as he forces you flush against his pelvis, grinding into you as deep as he can reach. His eyes struggle not to close, nearly crossing as that familiar heat permeates his limbs and pools at the base of his cock. But it’s so much more intense than he can ever remember it being.

He lifts his gaze to your lips to find them moving, repeatedly forming a single word he can barely make out. But by the time he figures it out, he’s already giving you what you asked for. 

Please. You’re saying please. He repeats it back, begging you to take it, thanking you for letting him have this.

His orgasm rocks him. As it peaks, he feels numb like he’s suspended in time, and then it slams into him so hard, he folds in on himself. He buries his face in your tits, his breath hitching sharply in time with the visible throbbing of his cock, and he’s immediately flooded with relief. But it won’t fucking stop. It lasts so much longer than either of you expect it to, pulse after endless pulse, and he holds you in place through it all.

When it finally subsides and sensitivity sets in, your nails scratching lightly across his back are what bring him back to the present. He lifts his head from where it's still pillowed on your tits, and you lean down to kiss his forehead.

Maybe he’s imagining it, or maybe he’s just been dreaming this entire time, but he swears you’re glowing. The final rays of late summer sun illuminate your dewy skin and soft curves, and as you move lower to kiss his lips, he unconsciously rests a hand over your stomach. It feels right—but only briefly. His head starts to clear the longer he licks into your mouth, and when you part, reality finally hits.

"Shit, I think I just got you pregnant," he breathes out, sliding his hand off your stomach to your waist before collapsing onto the mattress. "Shit."

He looks up at you in concern, his mind racing a mile a minute. What did he just do? He can’t—you can't get pregnant. Not with Abby, and your jobs, and his shitty finances. It just isn't an option. 

And yet you’re still perched on top of him, snug around his softening dick, and he can’t bring himself to pull out. You don’t even seem remotely worried.

You're actually smiling. No, you're laughing, and he's still panicking and confused as hell. It gets infinitely worse when you accidentally push him out and his gut reaction is to plug you back up with his fingers, keeping his release from leaking out. This is so fucked up. He’s so fucked up.

"I mean—were you trying to?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Kinda seems like it."

Your eyes drop between your legs to where his hand is cupping your heat, irrefutable proof that you’re not wrong. So, why doesn’t that bother you? 

"Babe, breathe," you smile softly, brushing a few stray hairs from his face. "I'm like, 98.8 percent positive you can't knock me up. Give or take, but we can check the box if it'll make you feel better."

It actually might, but the last thing he's going to do is admit it. He can't believe he didn't double-check something like that—but then again, he feels like he's been in a fugue state for hours, if not the entire week you were gone.

"You're still on birth control?" he asks cautiously, almost afraid to get his hopes up. He takes a deep breath like you told him to and it helps ease some of his lingering panic. Not all of it, but at least he's starting to think rationally and not with his dick.

"Mike. There isn't a single condom in this entire house. Yes, I'm on birth control," you laugh again, and even just the sound of it is soothing. It helps, too.

"And it definitely works? Because that was...a lot," he mumbles. He already knows he sounds like a total idiot, but he has to be sure. There's still a week's worth of his release plugged up inside you, and as much as it turns him on, he needs to know if he has to run out to the pharmacy or if he's free to do it again. And again.

"Have you ever fucked me with a condom on?" you counter. He scoffs at the question, and you clench around his fingers in retaliation.

"Of course, I have. Maybe not in a while, but early on, for sure," he replies confidently, even though he's not confident in his answer at all. Sure, he can't give you a specific example, but that doesn't mean it never happened.

"You literally came inside me the day we met," you deadpan. 

His cock stirs at the memory, hardening distractingly against your inner thigh. That, he definitely remembers. He's pretty sure that's the night he fell in love with you, but he's hard-pressed to admit that, either.

"There's no way."

"And every time since then," you continue, looking way too amused at his misfortune. Can't get anything past you, can he?

Okay, so maybe it wasn't just your trip that triggered what happened tonight. Maybe it's always been a thing. His thing. You just look so goddamn good—filled with it, covered in it. Shit, he really shouldn't be hard already.

"Babe, come on. I do...it other places, too,” he reasons, sliding his hand up to tweak a nipple. But it becomes a moot point the second your breath hitches. So much for rational thinking. “I just—"

"You just really like cumming inside me," you finish for him, taking his cock in your hand and stroking him until he's as desperate as he was earlier.

He pulls his fingers free from your pussy and tries not to lament the immediate rush of cum that leaks out. It's okay. He's got plenty more to give you.

"Yeah, I really do."

thanks for reading!

(and so much love to @joelsgreys, @tinycozycomfort & @psychedelic-ink for your help & support, and for listening to me go on and on about this man <3)

[ship-graveyard]

Traveling with P1Harmony 💕

🛫 - Air Travel Edition - 🛬

☁️ - fluff | 🌙 - gn!reader | 💞 - all members

note: occasional references to travel anxiety

———————————————————————

Keeho:

♡ - always makes it to the airport perfectly on time (no getting bored or stressing because he’s timed everything perfectly)

♡ - incredible at navigating crowds and fighting to keep your place in lines for security, boarding, and deplaning

♡ - idk how but the airline always loses his luggage

♡ - you need a break from the airport chaos? dw his arms are your safe haven and he’s got a hug already queued up for you

♡ - will take the middle seat for you if you’ve been assigned it BUT he will whine about it later (good news: you can just kiss his pout off his lips and he’ll forgive you)

♡ - want help lifting your luggage into an overhead bin? luckily your big strong boyfriend is here to help! (he will accidentally smack someone in the face with it when taking it back down but shhh he’s trying)

♡ - bothers you 24/7 on the plane, but he means well… he just can’t help it bc he wants to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible (ooh what are you watching?? are you hungry? thirsty?? he could definitely steal water from someone in first class, would that help?)

♡ - wants you to sleep on his shoulder SO bad. he’ll be slowly leaning into your space if you start to nod off until you get the hint

———————————————————————

Theo:

♡ - lets you completely melt into him if you want to sleep while waiting for boarding (just results in the sleepiest pile of limbs bc he’s probably out immediately too)

♡ - overpacks… why does he have 14 hats when he only ever wears one? why did he pack a toaster in his carry-on?? the world will never know

♡ - has 7 different beverages with him at all times

♡ - more likely to distract you and redirect your energy than directly comfort you if you get travel anxiety, but it still helps significantly just knowing he’s aware of it and by your side if you need anything at all

♡ - he’s going to fight you for claim of the armrest and not in a cute way

♡ - will smack you if you turn the overhead light on (if you really want to read/draw or do anything else that you need to see clearly, he MIGHT let you turn the light on if you ask nicely and/or sweet talk him)

♡ - spends half the flight judging the people who brought their children on the plane

♡ - will get hopelessly invested in whatever you’re doing/watching but pretends not to be whenever you catch him leaning over to see better

———————————————————————

Jiung:

♡ - brings an extra sweatshirt/jacket for you bc he knows you’ll forget your own, get cold, or need the comfort

♡ - takes care of everything that might be stressful for you. you’re nervous? dw he’s got your printed boarding passes ready and your luggage handled. you just need to show up and hold his hand

♡ - does a mental analysis of the best quality airport cuisine compared to affordability bc you deserve to be well-fed and pampered but he’s also really practical

♡ - surprise kisses as positive reinforcement when you remember to hydrate

♡ - zonks out on the plane. he’s been busy taking care of you, let the poor guy drool on your shoulder a bit

♡ - type of person to watch the flight tracker the entire way there

♡ - if you accidentally intrude on his foot space be prepared for the most intense high-stakes game of footsie you’ve ever been involved in (he’ll win but end up just pulling your legs onto his lap bc he feels a bit guilty and he loves you too much)

———————————————————————

Intak:

♡ - loses his boarding pass immediately (you better have backups)

♡ - will get lost in the airport if you let him out of your sight

♡ - lets you buy anything you want with his card (he just wants to trail along and hang off your arm and spend time with you)… puppyboy IM SORRY who said that

♡ - leans his entire weight on you when waiting to board bc he’s tired and he loves you and you’re right there

♡ - underpacks. it’s always “babe can i borrow your toothbrush? i forgot mine😔” and “one pair of pants is probably enough for the whole week, right?”

♡ - you’ll have to be the responsible one tbh but he’s always right there if you need anything and he’d step up in an instant if you asked him to. it’s only bc he feels so comfortable with you that he lets himself relax so much and truly be himself, so he’s eternally grateful that you look out for him when he needs it

♡ - asks to be involved in whatever you choose to do on the plane bc he wants to spend that time with you

♡ - if you have trouble speaking up, he’d happily do it for you. need accommodations?need to ask someone to move so you can go to the bathroom? he’s got you

———————————————————————

Soul:

♡ - gets pulled over at security for something really bizarre (a cool rock he found that makes it look like he’s smuggling drugs, a jar of loose coins of various types, the creepiest figurine imaginable that he decided was cute, etc, etc)

♡ - might need your help with translating some things depending on where you’re flying out of/to (he could probably figure it all out on his own, but he likes being able to rely on you so he doesn’t have to channel all of his energy into making himself understood)

♡ - traveling exhausts him tbh but hugs and spontaneous kisses help him recharge!

♡ - equally likely to distract you from nerves by starting fun conversations or reaching out and reassuring you with physical affection

♡ - hoards the little snacks they give out on the airplane and offers them to you as surprise gifts later

♡ - watches everyone else’s screen on the plane instead of his own lol (he’s invested in the movie two rows up leave him be)

♡ - wants to try to learn a few phrases of the local language on the plane if you’re traveling somewhere with a native language he doesn’t speak

♡ - if you fall asleep on the plane expect to have random braids in your hair when you wake up (it’s not his fault that he wanted something to do with his hands and in his defense he finds you absolutely adorable with them. esp finds it endearing if you leave them in bc that’s his handiwork you’re showcasing)

———————————————————————

Jongseob:

♡ - might share some of your travel anxiety, but instead of making him distant it just makes him more invested in getting you both there safely and being conscious of your needs. you can be certain that he’s done his research, and you’ll always be safe and taken care of when he’s by your side

♡ - the most difficult part of flying with him is getting him to wake up early tbh. he’ll be slumped against you in a half-successful back hug while you scan the departures board for your gate bc he’s still half asleep

♡ - effortlessly cool and fashionable even with messy hair and comfortable clothes

♡ - soft kisses to your temple and warm hands brushing against yours when he wants to get your attention

♡ - wants to switch off picking songs to listen to on the plane (or listen to a combined playlist of each of your interests) with shared earbuds bc he thinks it’s an important way to share your interests and emotions with each other

♡ - before you even ask he’s handing you a Nintendo switch controller and encouraging you to play something with him (dw he finds you adorable no matter if you’re terrible at it or if you kick his ass when it comes to gaming)

♡ - prefers pushing the armrest up so you can lean into each other and just be close (he isn’t super cuddly/touchy in public, but he enjoys the casual proximity. and sometimes the urge to dote on you is too strong to be contained)

♡ - not really the type of person to speak up and ask the flight crew if he needs something, but the second you need something he’s on his feet and advocating for you

[reasonsforhope]

"Pro-Palestinian protesters briefly blocked entrance roads to airports in New York and Los Angeles on Wednesday [December 27, 2023], snarling traffic as U.S. airlines contended with a rush of holiday travel.

The demonstrations stopped cars on the outskirts of New York’s John F. Kennedy International Airport, where some travelers set off on foot to bypass the jammed roadway, as well as Los Angeles International Airport. A total of 62 people were arrested during the two protests, police said.

In New York, activists locked arms and held banners demanding an end to the Israel-Hamas war and expanded rights for Palestinians, bringing traffic to a standstill on the Van Wyck Expressway leading up to the airport for about 20 minutes.

Video posted to social media showed passengers, some carrying suitcases, leaving vehicles behind and stepping over barriers onto the highway median.

Twenty-six people in the protest were arrested for disorderly conduct and impeding vehicular traffic, and the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey dispatched two buses to help travelers caught in the backup reach the airport, agency spokesperson Steve Burns said.

Around the same time as the New York protest, a major thoroughfare leading to the Los Angeles airport was shut down by another group of pro-Palestinian protesters, who dragged traffic cones, trash bins, scooters and debris into the lanes, according to news helicopter footage.

In a statement, the Los Angeles Police Department accused protesters of throwing a police officer to the ground and “attacking uninvolved passerbys in their vehicles,” without providing further details about either incident.

The group appeared to flee when police arrived, though the Los Angeles Police Department said traffic around the airport remained impacted roughly two hours after the demonstration was declared unlawful.

A spokesperson for the LAPD said 35 people were arrested for rioting and one person was arrested for battery of a police officer. No officers were injured, according to the spokesperson. An estimated 215,000 passengers and 87,000 vehicles were expected to pass through the Los Angeles airport on Wednesday.

Since the Israel-Hamas war erupted on Oct. 7, near nightly protests have broken out in cities across the United States. In New York, pro-Palestinian organizers have responded to the growing death toll in Gaza with escalating actions aimed at disrupting some of the city’s best-known events, including the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and the annual tree-lighting ceremony at Rockefeller Center."

-via AP, December 27, 2023

[tanadrin]

The thing about 9/11 especially is that the thing that prevented another 9/11 from happening was 1) locking the cockpit door on airliners and 2) passengers realizing that if hijackers took over a plane they might die. Nothing the US did as a matter of military or foreign policy in the immediate aftermath mattered one bit, except in a negative direction. Indeed, when the US was in a position to capture bin Laden in Afghanistan they flubbed it—they wouldn’t kill him until years later, in Pakistan, in the kind of operation that didn’t require occupying a whole country.

Even from a totally ruthless utilitarian perspective, militarized responses to terrorism are a huge waste of money and life.

[filmnoirsbian]

Pausing my hiatus to correct some misinformation that tbh I blame on someone who blasted it on social media without clarifying an important detail: the (USAmerican) federal regulation that states (USAmerican) aircrafts must accommodate a passenger's personal manual wheelchair by stowing it in a special compartment in the cabin only applies to larger aircrafts (100 seats and above). If you are flying on a regional jet (less than 100 seats) they are not obligated to stow your wheelchair in the cabin and in fact probably do not have a place to even do so (they are required to stow it in a special baggage compartment under the cabin). "Well they need to move their crew bags out of the wardrobe so my wheelchair can go there" does not apply on a regional jet, whose overhead bins often don't fit crew bags. Those crew bags ARE meant to go in that wardrobe. It is not a wheelchair wardrobe. I just saw a passenger tell a regional crew that their bags are not meant to be in the wardrobe, all because she was unaware of the actual federal regulation. If you are traveling with a personal manual wheelchair (battery powered wheelchairs are not obligated to be stowed in the cabin regardless of aircraft, so be aware of that as well) PLEASE look up which type of plane you will be on (this information can be found on the airline's website when you look up your flight info). Many large airlines contract out regional flights to regional airlines that fly under their name. Just because you are flying on Delta doesn't mean you will be on a large aircraft able to accommodate a wheelchair. It will save you so much headache in the long run.

[ceasarslegion]

You guys are memeing about crowdstrike update system crash but I work in an airport if anyone should be memeing on it it's ME. I work the night shift in a low- to mid-range international man we arent even supposed to have flights between 1am and 4am like that's when we do the equipment testing and get the ramp agents in the checkpoint completely closes but because of this crowdstrike bullshit we got a bunch of flights all delayed until like 2:30am when there's 12 of us in total and 6 of those officers are busy running around with testing items making sure the x rays are x raying and the metal detectors are beeping and the body scanner doesn't think a guys magnum dong is a gun meanwhile Three Piece Suit In An Airport is screaming about how he has nexus and therefore refuses to do anything as if a 50 dollar card will roll out the red carpet and fix all issues forever and we'll never ask him to take his laptop out of his bag (which is a grave offense. We might as well have called him a slur). God forbid I ask some overtired iPad kid to put his phone in the bin or he'll have a tantrum and mom will yell about how it's our fault the airlines are cosplaying Y2K now. Put your kid who is definitely too young to be loudly watching markiplier FNAF videos in public without headphones on through the x ray next time if this is how youre gonna act. Who give a shit

[robertreich]

Why Does Flying Suck so Much? 

You might not believe this, but I’m old enough to remember when flying was fun.

Now I'm sure you've got your own airline horror stories, which I hope you’ll share. But what happened to make flying such a nightmare?

The answer is simple: the same things happening across most industries. In fact, a close look at airlines reveals five of the biggest problems with our economy.

Number 1: Consolidation means fewer choices.

While there were once many more airlines, a series of mergers and acquisitions over the last three decades has left only four in control of about 80% of the market.

This kind of consolidation has been happening all over the economy. For example, four companies now control 80% of all beef production, and two control over 60% of all paper products. This lack of competition has led to:

Number 2: Companies Charging More for Less

Even before recent airfare spikes, air travel was getting more expensive because of new fees for things that used to be free, like in-flight meals, checked bags, or even carry-ons.

Spirit Airlines even charges $25 to print your boarding pass at a ticket counter! It’s just a piece of paper!

One of the ugliest ad-ons is the fee some airlines charge for families to sit together. That doesn’t even cost them anything!

Airlines are leading an economy-wide trend of adding often unexpected new charges to goods and services without adding value.

And you’re getting less in return. Airlines have cut an estimated 8 inches of legroom and two inches of seat width in the last two decades. Doesn’t bother me (I’m short), but many of you may feel the squeeze.

This parallels other industries where you’re paying more for less — just look at how cereal boxes, rolls of toilet paper, and candy bars are all shrinking.

Number 3: Exploiting Workers

While their jobs have become more difficult, many flight attendants haven’t had a raise in years.

And a lot of their hardest work is totally unpaid, because most flight attendants don’t get paid during the boarding process. They’re off the clock until the plane’s doors close.

And if the flight is delayed, those are often extra hours for no extra money.

Again, this mirrors trends in the overall economy, where too many workers are pushed into unpaid overtime or made to do work or be on call during their off hours.

Number 4: The Illusion of Scarcity

Airlines pretend they have no choice but to raise prices, cut services, and limit payroll. But their profits are in the stratosphere. In the five years before the pandemic, the top 5 airlines were flush enough to pay shareholders $45 billion, largely through stock buybacks.

During the pandemic, they got a $54 billion bailout from taxpayers (you’re welcome).

In the years since, they’ve resumed flying high, with nearly $10 billion in net profit expected across the industry in 2023. They can afford to take care of workers and customers.

Whether it’s multi-millionaire movie moguls pretending they can’t afford to pay writers or a grocery chain blaming “inflation” for high prices while raking in record profits, this illusion of scarcity is a sham.

Number 5: Misdirected Rage

Instead of being mad at the people at the top, we’ve been tricked into being mad at each other. Fights have broken out over whether it’s ok to recline a seat or who gets overhead bin space. But reclining’s only an issue because airlines intentionally put the seats too close together. And bin space is only running out because they’ve made it expensive to check bags — and also risky, with the rate of lost bags doubling over the last year.

Airlines are pitting us against each other the same way billionaires and their political lackeys pit groups against each other in society, hoping we’ll blame unions or immigrants or people of other races or religions or gender identities for why it’s so hard to get ahead, and that we won’t notice how much wealth and power is in the hands of so few.

So what do we do?

A lot of these problems could be solved with tougher antitrust enforcement — which we are starting to see. The Justice Dept is suing to block JetBlue from buying Spirit Airlines. We need that kind of anti-monopoly protection across the board.

Another part of the solution is unions. Airline workers are among the wave of American workers organizing to demand better pay and working conditions.

And then there’s your power as an informed consumer. Companies get away with bad behavior when we accept their excuses that there’s just no other way to run a business. They’re counting on us not knowing what’s really going on. So share this video, and share your airline stories in the comments.

Finally, try to be a little nicer to service workers and your fellow passengers — on planes and in life. After all, we’re all on this journey together.

[floridacracker]

Airlines should raise checked bag weight limits and eliminate carry ons (no overhead bins). Old people are too slow and retarded for overhead bins. Boomers are genuinely a blight on air travel. Flying between Florida and anywhere in the north, boarding and deplaning takes twice as long because of every blue hair with a carry on. You get one underseat personal item. Make it work or check a bag

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One in Eleven Million (ch. 5)

damian wayne x reader x jon kent

(A/N): A few more chapters to go. I'll try to post more regularly but honestly dates get away from me so fast. I hope you all enjoy!

Series masterlist linked here.

warnings: sensory overload, planes

wc: ~1100

~~

Jon swore that boarding time had only gotten longer the second time around. You attempted to shove him towards the already packed boarding lines. 

“You guys have carry-ons and you need to find a spot for them so go.” You insisted. Over the loudspeaker, airline employees began allowing passengers in group two to board. Damian opened his mouth to argue again. Jon cut him off. 

“You’re right; we should.” 

You turned towards him, surprised, but took the opportunity. 

“Thank you, Jon. I swear I can in fact survive twenty minutes without you guys. I did take a whole other plane here before I met you.”

Jon wrapped his hand around Damian’s elbow and walked him to the gate. Damian’s eyes roamed over Jon’s face, calculating. 

“Are you alright?” There was a slight pause. “Overstimulated?”

Jon nodded. Even with his earbuds in, the people and the noise grated on his senses. Until his powers came back in their entirety or settled out, they’d be in flux, and Jon wanted nothing more than to get out of the simultaneously open and crowded gate. The dim space of the plane sounded like a haven, even enclosed as it was. Any other day, he would have argued more about staying back with you. 

Damian passed Jon his own sunglasses and took the lead, scanning his boarding pass then Jon’s and guiding him into the boarding bridge. The lights, unnatural and piercing as they were, were dulled by the sunglasses. Jon relaxed the tension in his forehead, now looking more so than squinting at Damian. 

“Thanks.” He pulled a deep breath in then let it out through pursed lips. 

“You know you can just tell me things like that right?” Damian nudged. The line moved and they stepped further down the bridge. 

“Yeah I just—everything’s weird and off balance and I’m missing the-“ His voice dropped to a whisper. “-powers that I’ve had since I was a kid so it’s-”

“A lot,” Damian nodded. 

“Yeah.”

Jon dipped his head in response to the flight attendants’ greetings as he passed them by, following the line as it continued on towards the end of the plane. 

“You take the end,” Damian instructed. “You’ll have window control and the corner if you need it.” He reached his hand out to take Jon’s carry-on.

Jon didn’t argue, sliding clumsily to the end of the row. He turned the small TV — built-in to the headrest in front of him — off before sinking into his seat. It let out a puff of air as he sat down. Above his head, the sound of wheels on plastic illustrated Damian lifting both carry-ons into the overhead bins. Jon realized belatedly that he shouldn’t have let Damian do that with his arm injury. Too late now. 

After a moment, Damian maneuvered — much more gracefully — into the chair beside Jon, shoving his backpack under the seat in front. His arm curled around Jon’s shoulders. Jon followed the movement, forehead tipping down to the crook of Damian’s neck and eyes fluttering closed. One of Damian’s hands combed through his hair. The other wrapped around Jon’s wrist. Damian did that sometimes — often. In some ways, Jon appreciated it: Damian’s own way of checking his heartbeat in turn. Sometimes, like today, a move like that made Jon feel small. But Damian was safe. Jon could be small with him. 

There were a few minutes of indeterminate noise before you arrived. Jon felt your appearance more than anything else and even then, mostly in the change in Damian’s posture. 

“Hey.” Your voice was low. “Jon okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” You were addressing Damian but Jon answered anyway. “The airport was just loud.”

Damian’s hand didn’t move from his hair. Jon’s eyes stayed closed as you situated your bag under the seat and sat down. He assumed there’d been some sort of nonverbal communication over his head, but he couldn’t prove it. 

Jon sat up, eyes blinking open underneath the sunglasses. He recognized the worried look on your face — and didn’t that say something about how ridiculous the last twelve plus hours had been if he knew that face well already?

“I’m okay.” 

Your eyes narrowed in disbelief. 

“Or I’m getting there,” Jon amended. You seemed to take that answer better. In the middle seat, Damian huffed a laugh and switched to holding Jon’s wrist with his left hand. Jon didn’t pull away. Having Damian nearby, the warmth of his hand wrapped around Jon’s wrist, made all the difference. 

“Just let me know if there’s anything I can do.” Your eyebrows were still furrowed in concern. “Seriously.” 

Damian seemed to take you at your word so Jon nodded. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, of course,” you reassured him. “We’re in this together now.” 

A flight attendant bustled down the aisle, shutting overhead storage and checking that everyone was wearing seatbelts. You moved your hands away from your waist and both Jon and Damian copied the movement. The flight attendant moved on. 

Jon dropped his head back to Damian's shoulder, eyes following as you reached down into your bag and pulled out the craft project from the day before. 

“What are you making?” Damian asked. You looked up at him, eyes flicking down to your lap then back up. 

“Oh, nothing special honestly. I just found this pattern and liked it. And it’s nice to have something like this to do when watching TV, I think. Or like when you’re on the phone with someone. To have something to do with my hands.”

“It’s beautiful.” Jon readjusted his position against Damian’s shoulder as Damian leaned towards you. “You’re talented.”

“I’m not, honestly. It’s not really art, just string and a pattern I found online.” 

“Tt,” objected Damian. “There are many forms of art.”

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen and welcome once again to flight 1221 nonstop to Gotham International Airport. Thank you all for your patience and adaptability around the delays. We are fourth in line for takeoff and running smoothly so we should be up in the air in no time. Please be aware that there may be some turbulence as we get up in the air so seatbelt signs will remain on until it is safe to remove them. Thank you all again, and have a great flight.” 

The loudspeaker was silent for a moment. Jon opened his eyes from whenever he’d squeezed them shut. The crackling in the pilot’s voice as it filtered through the speaker was more audible than it had been the night before. 

Jon winced as the flight safety video began playing. He was spared the flashes of light from the darkened TV screen but not the sound projected over the entire plane. Pulling his hood over his eyes, Jon curled away from Damian and into the corner of the plane, closing them once again. 

[trivialbob]

The rest of last weekend I spent in Chicago.

I went there to visit my college roommate, Ross. We've known each other since freshman year of college, back in the fall of 1984 -- 40 years of friendship!

Friday afternoon I drove to to the city. Normally I experience horrendous traffic there, pretty much after crossing from Wisconsin to Illinois. Someone smiled upon me this time, because the midday Friday traffic was smooth on the highways.

Things got aggressive on city streets. Twice I saw people driving over a double yellow line, directly at me, as they wanted to make a left turn without waiting for traffic.

GPS warns me of Chicago's red light and radar cameras. At times I wonder if Chicagoans don't have to pay tickets they get in the mail, because I thought I was going to get rear-ended simply for obeying the speed limit and stopping at red lights. No one with Land of Lincoln plates seems to worry about traffic tickets.

Ross had game tickets to a Blackhawks game Saturday night. The team did poorly, but I enjoyed hanging out with him and watching the game.

I like walking through his neighborhood and looking at houses. My own home in Minnesota has a fireplace made of Chicago Brick. After the Great Chicago Fire, bricks from destroyed buildings were re-used in new home construction. It would be fascinating to me if there was a way to find out what Chicago building my bricks came from.

The Lincoln Square business area is a favorite of mine. I had arrived in the city before Ross was done working for the week. So I made my usual tour of that area on foot.

There are plenty of restaurants and bars I'd like to try. Saturday morning Ross and his wife took me out for coffee at a neat little shop with an airplane theme. Check out that booth made from airline seats and aircraft aluminum. The trash bins were re-purposed airliner serving carts.

There was mushroom coffee on the menu. I'd heard of it before, but never tried it. So I ordered a cup of "Morning Mud" which is mushroom coffee and some sort of mushroom extract. It tasted earthy. I don't know that it made me healthier but the coffee had caffeine. I'd give it another try sometime.

Ross and his wife picked up the tab, so I also grabbed a can of seltzer, two croissants, and a large assortment of essential oil soaps that were for sale in the attached gift shop.

The coffee shop had two "unvested service dogs." One was quite comfortable sitting in customers' laps.

Throughout my stay Ross and I hung out, had martinis and pizza, talked politics and current events, and relaxed. I thoroughly enjoyed the visit.

[marvelnatasha12346]

Decorating the house

Natasha Romanoff x super soldier F Reader

Soft Nat

Summary The Romanoff’s decorate the house for the holidays

It was a cold day outside a perfect day to put up the tree and decorate it. “Babe can you get the decorations down from the attic?” you asked your wife. “Sure Nick come help me?” Nat asks. “Ok mama coming,” your son yelled from the other room. Nick and Nat went up to the attic getting the Christmas decorations. The two of them had to make a couple trips to get all of the decorations. “The decorations are in the living room,” Nick says.

Nat comes to the kitchen hugging you from behind, “my love we have way too many decorations it took us a couple trips to get ALL the decorations,” Nat complains. “Well love every year you find a couple more things to add so it’s your fault we have some many,” you say smirking. “Ok I get it,” Nat says. “Kids let’s put the tree up so then we can decorate it,” Nat yells out to the kids. Taila runs full speed to Nat. Nat bends down to Taila’s height catching her in her arms she stands up with Taila in her arm. “Hi princess you excited to decorate the tree?” she asks. “Yeah I’m excited mama,” she says excitedly. “Whoosh, whoosh you have arrived at your destination thank you for riding with Nick and Ali airlines,” Ali says. Nick and Ali put Andy down on the ground. Andy giggled and ran to you and you picked him up. “Ok everyone is here let’s go to the living room and put up the Christmas tree,” you say. Everyone heads to the living room. Nat helps put up the tree with the older kids well you turn on some Christmas music to get in the holiday spirit. You get the ornament bins and out of the boxes and set them on the table. The younger kids just sat on the couch playing rock paper scissors waiting to decorate the tree.

“I think the tress is up and ready to be decorated,” Nat says excitedly to the group. “Finally I was getting bored of playing rock paper scissors,” Andy complains. You all laugh at how impatient Andy is. “Remember be careful you don’t hurt yourself with the hooks when hanging up the ornaments,” you remind your younger kids. “Ok mom we know you tell us every year,” Taila says a little annoyed. “I know I just wanna make sure you guys know to be careful,” you say seriously. Nat and you move to the couch watching your kids decorate the tree. “Mama mom come help us decorate,” Ali says. “ ok we’re coming,” you say. You give Nat a quick kiss before you both head over to help decorate. “Ok it’s time to put the star on top Andy you ready?” you ask. “Yeah I’m ready,” he says excitedly. To hand him the star and Nat lifts him up he puts the star on top of the tree. “Great job my precious boy,” Nat praises. “Hey I thought I was your precious boy, Nick says offended.

“You are too so is Andy. You are all precious to me, Nat says. Nat puts Andy down and goes hugs Nick kissing his head. “Group hug,” Taila yells. You all get in a tiny circle hugging everyone. “I love you all so much,” you say. “We love you too mom,” everyone says at once. “Let’s turn on the lights,” Ali says. You go and turn off the lights in the living room. Ali turns on the Christmas lights. You all just admire the tree for awhile. Andy turns the lights back on. “Mom can we watch some Christmas movies tonight?” Ali asks. Sure why not let me just go get some snacks and drinks. Ali Nick can you help me get the snacks for the movies tonight?” you ask. “Sure mom,” Ali says. “Andy and I want to help too,” Taila says. “Ok than let’s go. Well me and the kids get snacks and drinks can you please put the Christmas ornament bins away mi amor?” you ask your wife. “Yes I will don’t you guys take long or I’ll be lonely without you guys,” Nat says. “We won’t love,” you say. Well you and the kids are busy Nat hangs up the mistletoe above the entrance to the living room. She also puts the ornament bins back in the boxes putting them in the attic.

The kids come to the living room with the snacks and drinks. You see Nat at the entrance of the living room, “you’re under the mistletoe Моя любовь (my love),” she says smirking. “That I am,” you say smiling softly. “You know what that means,” Nat says playfully. “Yes I do,” you say. Nat and you kiss until it gets interrupted by gagging noise. “Eww that’s disgusting,” Nick says. “I agree,” Ali says. The two of you laugh at your children’s dismay. You turn off the living room lights joining your family on the couch wrapped up in a big blanket. “What is this first movie we are watching,” Nat asks everyone. “Elf,” you and the kids say it at the same time. “Ok Elf it is,” Nat says putting it on. You loved the holidays getting to spend time with your family and friends. Nat loved it too maybe a bit more than you did.

Tag @storiesofsvu