you delicious man

Man, it depresses me to watch FFXV videos in youtube cuz like, everyone gives my boy Noctis so much shit for not being versus Noctis, but I love both Noctis. I want a sammich in between them, and I want them to fuck…wait what, where was this going. Oh right. Yeah, so, Love both Noctis, both are good. Both are delicious.

Originally posted by feather-pauldrons

This boy is a good boy, love him please

Originally posted by vongolaprima

and this edge lord is a good edge lord, love him too please.

It’s Hopeless - Sebastian Stan Imagine

warnings: angst, fluff, Chris!Best Friend,  

request: The reader is best friends with Chris, but in love with Sebastian. She goes to Chris for advice on how to let Seb know how she feels. - @ theimpossibleg1rl

words: 1700+


“What the fuck are you doin’ here!” You ran towards your best friend at full speed, knowing he can take your impact easily.

“Chris! I missed you!” Your voice was muffled by the neck of his Cap suit.

Chris kissed your hair, holding it flat with his large palm. His arm was wrapped around your waist, keeping you lifted off the ground, and stuck in his arms.  

“I missed you too, Honeypot.”  

You had flown down to surprise Chris while he shot Civil War in Atlanta. He’d been moaning for months about how he was so bored and homesick that you decided to shut him up. For a little bit, at least.

Setting you back on Earth, he bared a grin when whilst holding you away from his body. He was looking for any change to your appearance since he’d last saw you, which was five months ago. A lot can happen in five months, and Chris was always so diligent in knowing every detail of your face and appearance. He could spot your hair cut an inch shorter, or you wore a new outfit. It was nice to have a best friend who took notice in the effort you put into looking presentable.

“Well, what are you fuckin’ doin’ here? When’d you get in?” Chris slung one arm over your shoulder and guided you towards the crafts table, where a selection of decorous food was lying.

“Lisa ringed me the other week beggin’ me to take spring vacation to come visit you! I guess I was the only one fit to shut up your whining and begging.” Chris chuckled and nodded in acknowledgment. He knew he had been on the, rather, complaining side in his tone for the last few months. He just missed his family so much. He missed seeing Miles, Lucy, and Noah. He missed not being able to go to his parent’s house on Thursdays for spaghetti dinner.

“Like always, she was right. You are the only human being beside her that could make me feel like I’m home with just your presence.”

You felt so much love for your best friend, and now you felt even more. He was so sweet and benevolent in nature. He’d been that way since the day you met him, 26 years ago. He was just a scrawny 9 years old, terrified to go down the slide on the playground. You were an adventurous 8-year-old and told Chris he could hold your hand while going down the slide together. He agreed and ever since then you two have held each other’s hands through the worst of times and the best of times.

“It can’t be! No way!” Booming from across the lot, you saw Mackie waving his hands frantically at you while jogging over. There had been a companion with him, a brunette you had only heard about before. The brunette didn’t join Mackie when he ran over to you, though. He just set foot in a slow pace walk, almost looking uneager to meet the mysterious best friend of Chris’.

Anthony pulled you into a big hug when he finally reached you and Chris, both pigging out at the table of goodies. “Big Mack! How goes it?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “Not too bad. Livin’ good down in A.T.L., aren’t we Evans?”

“You are, Mr. Life of The Party.” Anthony gawked at Chris and slapped his shoulder. “Don’t try and pretend that you ain’t out at the clubs, talkin’ to the ladies, now. We don’t wanna be tellin’ lies to our friends now do we?” You giggled at shook your head, turning back towards the donuts.

You held a chocolate glazed one to your mouth when you heard an unfamiliar voice from behind.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. Those have been baking in the sun for a good fifteen hours.”

Sebastian had his blue eyes cast towards you, with a warm smile upon his lips. Chuckling nervously, you agreed and laid the donut back on the tray.

“Thank you. Wouldn’t have wanted to catch food poisoning my first day here.” Sebastian just broadened his grin that, swear to god, was twinkling in the sunlight. He stuck out his hand and you met him halfway.


“Y/N. Chris’ best friend.”

Ever since that moment, you had been hooked to Sebastian Stan. Hopelessly, carelessly devoted to a man who didn’t even know you felt so much towards.

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Creepypasta #1238: Our Hotel Celebrates The Strangest Holidays

Length: Super long

Note: This story is a continuation to the previous creepypasta, The Good Shade Hotel ( < read it first obviously!)

“Happy Apocalypse Day!” Diana greeted me cheerfully from behind the front desk.

What now? I had been working at the Good Shade for several weeks at this point, and had just started to become accustomed to all the things that go on. I could finally check-in guests, and I was learning more about the types of people that stayed in the hotel. Not all of them were bad, but most were terrifying.

I was already starting to lose track of how many times a guest had smelled me. On the bright side, apparently my scent is delicious. Perhaps not the best compliment, considering it’s probably something that would make me more likely to end up a victim. Diana didn’t seem too impressed when she saw such a thing occur to me for the first time.

A tall, pale woman had entered the hotel a few days after I started the job. She was beautiful in a dark way, and I found myself compelled to walk up to her as soon as our eyes met. Long black hair cascaded down her back, matching in color with her eyes. If the grim reaper was personified as a gorgeous woman, then that’s what I was staring at.

She was as tall as me, a surprising attribute considering that I’m 6’1”. She leaned close to me as I came to a halt in front of her. Her lips hovered mere centimetres away from my neck, and her breath felt cold on my skin. I trembled due to the fear of what she may be, but also because I was suddenly awash with a deep lust for her. She laughed, a deep and alluring sound as she backed away.

“You smell delicious, young man,” she purred as she walked around me.

I didn’t trust my legs to walk, so I simply stared as she took long graceful steps towards Alice.

“Marise, he’s new. Don’t play with the staff,” Alice chastised her.

“Shame, it gets lonely at the hotel.”

“No it doesn’t,” Alice laughed. “You bring in more unregistered guests than anyone else. You keep turning people and there will be none left to feed on.”

Abruptly I felt the rush of desire leave my body, leaving only the traces of fear. I walked hesitantly up to the women, and Marise glanced at me with a pout.

“What if I get hungry?” The pout transformed into a smile, revealing her sharp elongated canines.

Alice sighed. “You know Smith provides for the guests, and I’ve already asked you once not to mess with our new staff member. Get out of his head.”

Marise shrugged and broke her gaze with me. I stood there confused until she left with her room key.

“Don’t let the guests play with your head,” Alice scolded me once Marise was out of sight.

“What do you mean?” I questioned, still confused about the encounter.

“The desire, her teeth? She does it to everyone. It’s not real, you have to steel yourself mentally so that it’s not so easy for Shades to get in your head.”

I nodded. “What about her teeth?”

“You think mine are scary? Hers are just plain hideous, but almost equally as dangerous.”

I took what she had told me into account, and have worked on locking down my brain since then. By the time “Apocalypse Day” arrived I had a minor grasp on how to protect my mind, but at the same time I was plagued with nightmares of jagged teeth. I came into work that evening exhausted, the nightmares had made sleep nearly impossible.

“Apocalypse Day?” I questioned with a yawn.

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Closing Time

Written for @quitbeingbanished​ as a thank you for donating to my Buy Me a Coffee fund. Posted publicly with permission.

Summary: Dean x male!reader a/b/o/. Dean comes into your bakery just before closing time. Normally, you get annoyed at late customers, but you make an exception for Dean.

Warnings: Smut, a/b/o dynamics

Word Count: 1500ish

A/N: This is my very first male!reader fic. I hope you enjoy it! XOXO

There’s only a few minutes left before you can lock the doors, and you’re counting them down. It’s been a pretty decent day, all in all, but the last hour has seen almost no customers, and you’re ready to go. With everything cleaned up and put away, you’re literally just leaning against the counter, waiting. Not the most exciting thing you could be doing with your evening.  

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dr. catch

paring: jellal/erza
rating: t 
chapter 3 of the rockabye series
found on ff.n

Jellal and Erza meet in the most romantic of places: the physical therapy ward

“There he is, Erza. What did I tell you? Isn’t he absolutely delicious?" 

 When Erza heard Mirajane’s excited whisper, she looked up from her magazine and followed where her friend’s finger shamelessly pointed at a new arrival.

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The Gingerbread Detective

Once upon a time, there was an old woman named Mummy Holmes.  She lived in a large house in the country with her husband.  Mrs. and Mr. Holmes had one grown son, Mycroft, who rarely visited them.  

On those infrequent occasions when he did come, all Mycroft was interested in doing was eating.  In the hope of enticing her son to visit more often, Mummy Holmes purchased an enormous oven in which she could bake all of his favourite treats.  This worked, but only after a fashion.  Mycroft did, indeed, begin to come by more regularly, but he only stayed until the food was gone.

One morning, Mummy Holmes received notice that Mycroft would be dropping by the house later that day.  Determined to ensure that he would remain as long as possible, she decided to bake something that even her gluttonous son would not be able to gobble up too quickly, something that might even tempt him into conversation.

Mummy Holmes gathered up the ingredients for gingerbread, mixed them thoroughly, and added a touch of magic.  Then she shaped the dough into a man — six feet tall, perfectly proportioned, and anatomically correct.  With a smile, she popped the gingerbread man into the oven.  

Soon, the delicious scent of baking gingerbread filled the kitchen.  Mr. and Mrs. Holmes stood in front of the oven with their mouths watering, waiting for the timer to go off.  The moment she heard it ding, Mummy Holmes opened the oven door.

As soon as she did so, a man leapt out — a six foot tall, perfectly proportioned, anatomically correct gingerbread man.  He dashed toward the door.

“Stop him!” cried Mummy Holmes.

But her husband just stood there, gawping in amazement.

“Fools!  Idiots!  Your brains are defective!
You can’t catch me — I’m the gingerbread detective!”

(Delicious Johnlock will continue under the cut.  Or, read it on AO3)

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