#aviophobia

[connoisseurofmantits]

If I had a nickel for every time Hugh Jackman played a character who hates flying I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot. But it’s weird it happened twice right?

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Aviophobia- Luke Alvez

Pairing: Luke Alvez x Reader

Characters: Luke Alvez

Warnings: N/A

Request: Anon- Hey, could I request Luke Alvez X reader where Luke is comforting reader during an uneasy flight, please? Have a lovely week(end)!

Word Count: 592

Author: Charlotte

You had never been a fan of flying. Being in a tin can thousands of feet in the air didn’t seem appealing by any means but it was part of your job and you had decided to grin and bear it. Your team were aware that you were scared of flying but not the extent of it. It seemed rather stupid that you could handle going into the field facing the worst of the worst in people but the journey there was resulting in you taking anxiety medication to get through it.

Since you had been part of the BAU you had been taking your medication religiously. As soon as you were told that you would be heading onto the jet you would pop your pill and the anxiety of flying would be subsided enough that no one else could even notice you were nervous, and you certainly weren’t planning on letting on to the fact that you were coping with part of your job by medicating.

Your latest case had been in Wisconsin and when you had packed your stuff back up to head on the four-hour flight to Quantico, you realised that you had misplaced your medication. You searched every inch of your belongings but there was no sight of them and with the rest of the team waiting for you to head to the jet, you had to just accept you would have to fly without them.

Most of the team sat together but you headed off to the back of the jet to hope that no one would notice the distress you would feel until you landed. The take-off had left you almost in tears, your heart pounding in your chest and breathing unsteady. You had sunk down in your seat, hoping that the seat in front of you would shield you from your colleagues.

Your plan worked for a short while. Luke had gotten up to grab a drink from the trolley that was parked at the back of the jet but as he passed by your seat, he noticed how unlike yourself you seemed.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asked.

You shot him a glare and shushed him, not wanting him to bring your state to the attention of anyone else. He slipped into the seat beside you.

“You look like you’re about to pass out, what’s going on?”

“Aviophobia,” you squeaked.

Luke cocked an eyebrow at you. “You’re scared of flying? We fly constantly and you’re never like this.”

You tried to take a deep breath to regulate your anxiety, but it was shakier and far more painful than you intended.

“I normally take medication, but I can’t find it and I’ve had to just deal with it but it’s so much worse than I thought it would be,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and strained.

You knew he had questions but now wasn’t the time to get answers or pry into why you put yourself through your biggest anxiety for the sake of your job.

There was only one appropriate question for him to ask. “How can I help?”

Instinct was all you could follow. You’d never felt so much anxiety and without being able to medicate yourself, you just needed some form of comfort, whatever felt right at the time.

“C-could you hold my hand?” You whispered.

Luke didn’t hesitate to do as you asked, instantly linking his fingers with your own.

“Anything else?” He asked.

“Just talk to me, and please don’t tell anyone.”

He offered you a gentle smile. “Of course.”

[ruskeptical]

Oh yeah, did a little character piece for a friend’s OC! Meet Aviophobia, he’s Vicehide’s boyfriend!

[brockkboeserr]

aviophobia - rafe cameron

a rough flight provokes your fear of flying, luckily your cute seat mate is willing to hold your hand and help you through it

warnings: mentions of anxiety, fluuuuff

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 1.6k

a/n: wrote this on the plane this afternoon, lowkey inspired by own anxiety today (sans the rafe cameron comfort) - planes aren’t supposed to be quiet!! i didn’t proofread so sorry in advance hehe

Flying wasn’t your favorite thing in the world. In all honesty, you might have a little airplane phobia. You could keep it together when everything went according to plan: when checking into your flight went smoothly, TSA was a breeze and you had an hour extra to spare as you sat at your gate.

Of course, this was not one of those times. There had been a mixup with your uber, causing you to lose half of your relax buffer time. then, there had been an issue checking in and you briefly thought you wouldn’t be allowed on the plane, but the nice customer service rep behind the desk was kind enough to explain they had accidentally let you choose a seat already occupied and simply moved your seat assignment. The real bummer was losing out on the window seat - one of the ways you were able to get over (well not quite over but through for sure) your fear was to face it, quite literally forcing yourself to look out the window as the plane took off and landed. For some reason watching the position of the airplane relative to the ground was grounding for you.

Even going through TSA had gone wrong, you’d forgotten to take your novelty bottle opener off your key ring and ended up getting pulled to the side and patted down. (It was a joke gift from your dad in the shape of a spent shotgun shell - something about a warning to any boys who might want to approach you? Who knows, you just liked it because you always had a bottle opener on you, getting you to a beer quickly when the occasion called for it).

You didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse when you arrived at your newly assigned seat to find a tall and handsome twenty-something man in the window seat. You gulped, briefly wondering if you could pretend like you had a different assigned seat but you knew the plane was full and didn’t want that embarrassment. He must have took this as you needing help, as he stood up, mumbled a respectful ‘ma’am’ and lifted your very heavy carryon like it wasn’t full of your makeup and toiletries, a weeks worth of clothes and three pairs of shoes.

“Thanks,” you replied quietly, cheeks warming with embarrassment. He just smiled in response before sitting back down.

“Sorry if I encroach in your space a little,” he preemptively apologized, knowing his six foot three frame would likely brush against yours at the very least if not press against you directly.

“Don’t worry about it!” you smiled before putting in your headphones and putting on your relaxing playlist. You were able to close your eyes and grip the outside armrest to get through the takeoff, and the beginning of the flight passed by as you focused on the smooth rhythm of what was playing through your headphones.

Based on the way the today was going you shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were when the plane hit a patch of rough turbulence. You softly gasped and gripped both your armrest and the arm of the poor, hot stranger beside you. Your hands stayed locked in place for approximately two minutes, as the plane rocked and waved, before he gently pried your fingers from his arm. You were about to apologize when another shake of the aircraft had you gasping, he grabbed your hand, letting your fingers connect. you rode out the turbulence, comforted by the strangers warm hand as you tried to steady your breathing.

Cheeks warm with embarrassment again, you let go of his hand and carefully clasped your hands together in your lap. You avoided looking at him for the rest of the flight, embarrassed and honestly a little turned on which embarrassed you more. Clearly you needed to get laid if a little hand holding was getting you all hot and bothered. Though if you thought about it, it was more about the gentle and sweet way he held your hand without hesitation more than the actual physical contact.

When you neared your destination, you had another moment of pure panic as the plane quieted around you. You’d never experienced that level of quiet while traveling in a metal death trap before and so you frantically turned to your handsome seat mate for reassurance. Relaxing the slightest bit at his soft smile before he placed his hand on your knee, palm facing up. You gladly clutched his hand with both of yours, fingers laced together. It helped calm your racing thoughts and heartbeat. You noticed he was exaggerating the way he breathed - in and out, in and out - and realized he wanted you to mimic him. Focusing on the way his chest rose and fell, you found yourself calming down as your breathing evened.

“We’re just taxi-ing, waiting for the okay to start our descent and land,” he told you softly, trying to reassure you further. Your mouth felt dry and you didn’t trust yourself to find the words so you simply nodded.

“If you hate flying so much why torture yourself?” he asked a minute later, unable to stop himself from asking, curious about the beautiful girl so full of anxiety beside him.

“Well, driving across the country to head home doesn’t really appeal to me. I’m not usually this bad,” you admitted shyly, moving to unlace your fingers, embarrassed at yourself for clinging to a stranger like a life line but your stomach dropped as you felt the plane begin its descent and gripped him more tightly.

“How do you usually get through a flight?” he asked curiously.

“Well it helps to look out the window... I don’t know why but it does. I had booked a window seat but there was a mix up and they double booked it so I ended up here.” you shrugged as you spoke, chewing nervously on your bottom lip.

Upon your words he leant back as far as he could and gestured for you to look out the window. Still holding his hand, you leant over his lap and watched the descent feeling a lot calmer than you had before. Your shoulder and arm were pressed against his chest and you felt relaxed with the heat of his body. Rocking with the movement of the plane, your teeth clenched as the plane hit the runway. His other hand lifted up to steady you against the momentum.

Finally landing, you relaxed and sat back in your seat, dramatically dropping your head against the headrest. You looked down at your linked hands and then back up into your saviors eyes, smiling a little awkwardly at him. “You know, i don’t even know your name,” you giggled, “or do you prefer ‘my hero’?”

He laughed, somehow deep and whiny at the same time, as he threw his head back. “I don’t know the name of the damsel in distress either,” his eyes twinkled as he spoke.

“Y/n,” you smiled.

“Rafe,” he answered and you decided it fit him.

“Well Rafe, I sincerely thank you, I think I would have had a heart attack if you hadn’t been there,” you told him truthfully.

“Anytime,” he answered with a small grin, the corner of his mouth upturned. The way he said the word it was more like a promise than a platitude and it sent shockwaves through your system.

“Y’know I think you should give me your number. Just in case I need help flying from California to North Carolina again,” you boldly stated, preening a little as he laughed and pulled out his phone.

“Well I can’t argue with that logic,” he laughed and you swapped phones, inputting your name with several princess emojis after it. A laugh escaped your lips when he handed your phone back with a contact titled ‘rafe aka airplane hero’. You briefly chatted a little longer as you waited for your turn to get off the plane that had given you such trouble, learning that he worked for his dad's company in the outer banks, only an hour from your parents’ house on the mainland. The two of you walked together to baggage claim, and you giggled while he waited with you for your bright pink suitcase to come around the carousel, lifting it by the handle with the only indication it weighed anything - the slight flex of his bicep.

Finally reaching the passenger pick up zone, it was time to separate. It felt strange to feel such a connection with someone you hadn’t known this morning, but leaving didn’t feel right. “Well this is it I guess,” you sighed, knowing your sister was likely waiting right outside.

He pulled you into his arms, “for now.”

“Goodbye, Rafe,” you smiled, pulling away from him and walking towards your sister’s familiar white suv.

“Wait!” he called out your name and you spun around confused to see him making his way to you before his hands were on your face and his lips were on your own. The kiss was sweet and brief and when you pulled apart there was a smile on your face. “Goodbye, y/n”

Crawling into your sisters vehicle, face hot and mouth spread wide in a smile she looked at you in shock, “what was that about?”

“Just a little airplane anxiety,” you giggled, hand on your lips, as your phone lit up with a text from your ‘airplane hero’.

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[kumishona]

Your chances of dying in a plane accident is 1 in 1,000,000,000.

Which, as a statement in and of itself, can sound frightening … but hold up:

Your chances of dying in a car crash? 1 in 1,000.

(Disclaimer: I very unscientifically eyeballed these numbers whilst referring to a bunch of sites. Percentages fluctuate, depending on several different factors ... I'm too lazy to figure out a tentatively accurate ~ range ~. I'm already exhausted from school, pls.)

I’ve never been the passenger whose face drains of colour at any measure of turbulence, their knuckles going white at a sudden vice-like grip on whatever object is close by at hand (an armrest, a pillow, an unsuspecting—soon to be alarmed—stranger’s arm).

(The first memory I have of experiencing turbulence includes a flight attendant chattering on happily with her co-worker as she strapped on her seatbelt; their casual composure has stuck with me since.)

What does make my head rush, though, is when we're safely at cruising height (you know, when there's wi-fi, no more sudden tilting and no ear-popping pressure changes, yay!), 40,000 ft over the Atlantic ocean. I can’t stop myself from occasionally imagining the engine of the plane just … halting.

To nobody's surprise, Hollywood happens to be a major cause for yet another very common affliction: a blown-out-of-proportion aviophobia (especially when flying above water bodies, like me)—affecting 1 in 3 people.

One in three. When the odds are one in a billion. Sheesh.

The thought is comforting. It's a fact I keep repeating to myself on every trans-Altantic flight, both when other passengers are freaking out ... and when I'm the sole one frozen with a spoonful of yoghurt halfway to my mouth, suddenly wondering (by no obvious trigger) if this is my last day (night?) on (above?) the Earth.

(My last trans-Atlantic flight marked the 5th in my life, from 2017 to 2021. Five. An odd number. An I've-pretty-much-permanantly-left-home number. Meaning: I'll have to get used to arduous flights.)

It's helped, though. On the way to San Antonio, I honestly wished the plane would bump more, to help me sleep. Like cars do.

The irony is not lost on me.

[cenestpasmoi-bechloe]

Love at First Flight

Beca gets on a plane to go visit her grandparents. The turbulence freaks her out. 

A pretty short fic I started writing on the plane to distract myself from the turbulence:)

Read here on AO3

[trek-tracks]

Bones doesn’t like all that newfangled audio/visual equipment.

He has A/V-ophobia.

[bangtan-madi]

aviophobia — kim namjoon

Pairing — Namjoon x Reader

Genre — fluff

Word Count — 1k

Summary — When an opportunity to return to your hometown with your boyfriend and the other members presents itself, you’re faced with an old phobia: your fear of flying.

Warnings — Basically none, mild language

(gif not mine. credit to original creator.)

"I'm kinda nervous," you tell your boyfriend over FaceTime. "I haven't been back home in years. It's been so long since I left Seoul...I honestly can't even remember what my childhood home looks like. Uni and work took over, and I didn't really have a reason to go back, so..."

"Which is why you should come!" Namjoon cheers, his face lighting up. "It could be fun. I've never seen your hometown. You've seen Ilsan, so I think it's only fair that you come with us this time."

Jimin pops in the frame, giving you a cheeky grin as he says, "He's not going to let you say no, [Y/n], so you might as well give up now."

"Yeah, don't waste your breath," Yoongi adds from off-camera, causing Namjoon to roll his eyes. "You'll waste oxygen debating with Namjoon."

Namjoon chuckles and pushes Jimin out of the camera. "You all can leave, y'know. I'm trying to have a conversation with my girlfriend."

"If you want privacy, go to your room!" Jin's playful annoyance is unmistakable, even over video chat.

"Oooh, Jin hyung just told you to get a room, Namjoon," Hoseok cackles.

The irritation finally prompts your boyfriend to hop from the sofa and turn towards the stairs. "Fine! All of you are damn impossible."

"We love you, [Y/n]!" Jimin shouts in a sing-song voice as the rest of the group bursts into laughter at Namjoon's actions.

You shake your head at Namjoon's smirk and the group's teasing. "They're something, aren't they?"

He rolls his eyes a second time. "I had a more specific word in mind, but sure. They're 'something.'" He makes it to his dorm room and plops down on his bed, resting on his stomach as he holds his phone in front of him. "I'm serious about coming with us to your hometown, though. Dead serious."

You run a hand through your hair, apprehensive of the thought. Both the lengthy travel and the thought of flying causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach. "I don't know, Joonie..."

"C'mon, baby. We could make the best out of it. The members have a couple things to do while there, but other than that, we can explore! You can show me all the places from your childhood. I'd love to see them all."

"I hate flying," you remind him, biting your lower lip.

"I know." His voice is soft, as are his eyes. "I'll keep your mind off it."

"The boys will tease the hell outta me."

Namjoon laughs as you let your head fall back against the back of your sofa. "I wish I could tell you they won't, or that I could stop them, but you see how well I can wrangle all six of them." He sighs softly. "I mean, if you really don't want to, I’m not gonna force yo—"

"—Okay," you agree, spitting it out before you can change your mind. "When are we leaving?"

You grip Namjoon's hand tightly as you make your way onto the airplane. You both find your seats in the craft, seated side-by-side in the first-class section, along with the rest of BTS. You take the window seat. Looking outside always helps with the fear of flying and constant claustrophobia.

"You're hurting my hand," Namjoon whispers.

You release his hand. "Aish, sorry!" you whisper quickly.

Namjoon gives you a sweet smile, taking note of your trembling hands. "The take-off is the worst."

The rest of the group scurries to their own seats. Taehyung and Jimin find places across the aisle. Yoongi and Manager Sejin settle in the pair in front of them. Hoseok and Jin take the seats in front of you and Namjoon. While the luggage is being loaded and the pilot is doing final checks, Hoseok turns around and flashes a cheerful smile.

"Someone afraid of flying?"

You grip the armrests, attempting to return the smile. By the look on Hoseok's face, you know that it's coming out all wrong. "Now you get why I hardly ever fly out to see you guys, despite missing you like hell." 

The plane's engines begin to rev, signaling that the flight is about to begin. You jump in your seat, a lump forming in your throat. "Jesus, please let me just survive this trip."

"Damn, [Y/n], you weren't kidding when you said you were nervous," Jin chuckles, pulling Hoseok back over the top of his seat. "Sit down. We're about to take off, unless you want to fly across the cabin."

"How are you all so relaxed?"

"We've had lots of practice. Here." Namjoon pushes the armrest out of the way, removing the barrier between his seat and yours. He reaches for you and pulls you into his side. The seats in first-glass are huge, and the band and a few select staff members are the only ones aboard. The space is quiet and intimate, a perfect place to get some sleep as you fly from Seoul for their next show. 

Namjoon settles you against his side, his smell and soft sweater comforting you. The seat reclines, and he hooks his leg over yours. You couldn't be closer if you tried. "Close your eyes, baby. I got you."

You do as he asks, nuzzling your face into the fabric. The engine revs again, and the plane starts the seemingly-long journey towards take-off. 

"I'm here," he whispers against your hairline every few seconds, rubbing your back with one hand while the other caresses your cheek.

A few minutes pass, and the plane gets louder and louder. Eventually, you feel the wheels leave the pavement and sigh in relief. The longer you're in the air, and the more time you spend in Namjoon's comforting arms, the less stress and anxiety you feel. Those emotions fade, disappearing with your tense shoulders and shallow breaths.

"Can I open my eyes now?" you mumble.

Namjoon chuckles, moving the hand on your cheek to the small lever beside the seat. He raises you both just enough so that you can see through the small window, down to the lights of Seoul below. You watch in awe as they turn into tiny little lights across the ground, reminding you that the world is a lot smaller from in the air.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

You turn and give him a playful glare. All he does is laugh and pull you in for a kiss, all fears of flying forgotten.