Smooth Landing


i’m trying to get back into writing and it’s hard (my entire WIP folder is glaring at me,) so i decided to write out some of the prompts i sometimes reblog cause they’re cute as hell. very unbetaed.

  • we get seated next to each other on a delayed flight AU


Scott: I can’t wait til you get there buddy. I want you to meet so many people.
Stiles: idk, man. You’re enough for me.
Scott: That’s sweet and weird. Malia and Cora are gonna be there! You’ll be able to finally put a face on the names. They’re fucking weird, you’re gonna love them.
Stiles: but /i’m/ your best friend, right? only me, though.
Scott: Ugh. YES.
Stiles: bro.

Stiles pockets his phone with a tiny smile and looks around the departure gate. The dude seating two seats over has been glaring at the flight attendant for a full ten minutes now. It’s stupid. His leather jacket is even stupider. He looks like he’s trying way too hard to be cool. Stiles sighs audibly, hoping to break the man’s laser focus on the poor lady. It doesn’t do anything. Whatever.

The stewardess smiles another weak smile at one of the travelers coming up to her booth to complain about the delayed flight. She’s too busy to notice she’s being set on fire by the sheer intensity of this guy’s stare.

Stiles burrows himself deeper in the uncomfortable airport seat, tapping his fingers against his thigh, setting a counter rhythm with the heel of his shoe against the carpet.

He’s considering buying an overpriced coffee at the stand behind him when a strong hand suddenly clasps his knee, pinning it to the ground. Stiles’s whole body startles before settling for complete immobility. The hand is quickly withdrawn and Stiles is left to stare incredulously at the creepy dude who’s been silently and passive-aggressively harassing the stewardess for the last ten minutes. Leather Man.

"Did you just—?" Stiles stammers, gesturing between his knee and the guy’s hand.

"Stop fidgeting," the guy says—demands.

"I will when you stop being a creep,” he fires back, annoyed and a little embarrassed.

A few people have turned their attention to them in the gate room, bored out of their mind and desperate for any kind of entertainment.

The guy is already looking away, uninterested in Stiles’s protests. He looks about ready to murder someone and Stiles does not actually want to be this person.

Leather Man goes back to his one-way staring contest with the stewardess, and Stiles rolls his eyes.

"Stop looking at her," he groans, finally feeling entitled to saying something. "She has no control over the fucking weather, you know?"

The dude’s glare is immediately redirected to Stiles. He tries his best not to recoil.

"Hey, you started it," he warns. And he starts jiggling his knee up and down again, just to make a point.

"Not that this is any of your business,” Leather Man says in a clipped voice, “but I have a family emergency and I need to be home—” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “—ten minutes ago.”

“Well, that sucks for you, man,” Stiles says, stuffing his hands in his pockets defensively, “but we all got somewhere to be, you know? So lose the attitude.”

The guys huffs a loud breath but doesn’t reply, to Stiles’s immense relief. His heart is beating a little too fast after the adrenaline rush he got from someone randomly touching him, and his face is a probably a little too red from all the bystanders’s rapt attention, listening and watching them greedily.

“Patience is a virtue,” he mumbles to himself.

The dude doesn’t reply but Stiles is absolutely certain he heard him.

An hour and a half later, Stiles is ready to explode. He’s been sitting, standing, pacing, texting, playing, reading, and he seriously can’t take another second of waiting in this goddamn room.

“Fuck patience,” he mumbles to himself.

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Sep 29   554 notes   # cryin  sterek  fic 


ultra mega grouchy characters that are only soft around their significant others (●´ω`●)


when you go in for a cat scan and your doctor hot af



Yes, lets go fight magneto. in my metal wheelchair, via my metal airship, with my metal wolverine to protect me. i see no way this could ever go wrong.




But why is Danny Elfman doing the music for 50 Shades of Grey?!

"He’s going to touch me… there!”

[Wacky haunted circus music surges in intensity]

What’s this?! What’s this?! There’s ball gags in the air! What’s this?! What’s this?! There’s butt plugs everywhere!

Now this is a movie I would see.

teen wolf meets cards against humanity





Oh i get it now.



Can you not?

AHG, I fucked this up!


me: stop being racist please

family:  listen… liberal hippie trash ….u dont know anything abotu the world….


a pic for a fic :}

Fill in this blank: I’m a badass because… (x)