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#the hotdog is symbolic

transsexualhamlet · 2 years

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losing my mind over viktor's awful terrible little Boy Dance in the bachelor party. hes so bad at it oh my god but i want to cheer and clap and scream because he is so boy wow look at him son man !!!!!!!!

#rowan screams into the void #the umbrella academy #SORRY IM JUST SO TRANS AND THIS WHOOE THING MADE ME SO HAPPY #JUST LOOK AT MY LITTLE GUY MY MAN WHO IS A GUY DUDE #DRESSES HIM UP IN A LITTLE SUIT #he and luther should blow up hotdogs in a microwave like they did in gravity falls as a symbol of boyhood

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bradshawssugarbaby · 1 month

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Angel In the Infield - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley Bradshaw is a struggling first-baseman in the major leagues. He's had bad season after bad season, until he met you, his angel.

A/N: While I'm currently struggling with motivation to work on on Take One for the Team, please instead enjoy this baseball au fic I've done in the meantime! Also I started reading sports romance novels, pls send help half these men are baseball players with dark hair. Also if you like this concept/set up, I'm toying with the idea of making this a series of connected oneshots?

pairing: baseball player!Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: baseball au, smut throughout, oral (both m + f receiving), praise, dirty talk, mentions of divorce, unfaithfulness (neither Bradley, nor reader), public sex.

word count: 3.7k

taglist (also tagging those who were interested in Take One For The Team since it's a similar vibe and explains the lack of updates lol): @avengersfan25, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @nouis-bum, @mamachasesmayhem, @floydsmuse, @kmc1989, @dckweed, @katfanfic, @nerdgirljen, @whatislovevavy, @mrsevans90, @averyhotchner, @yuckosworld, @tgmreader, @allepaula, @lourd-ita, @mariaenchanted

The sun hung high on the horizon for a Saturday afternoon, radiating an unseasonable warmth as its rays beat down over the course. A gentle breeze made its way through the palm trees that stood tall outside of the stadium, causing large, deep green leaves to sway in its wake. A crowd of spectators sat on the bleachers that surrounded the diamond, a sea of faces filling the scenery, silently watching, sipping beers and eating hotdogs as they took in the spectacle before them. Media representatives dotted the balcony, press passes on display as they gawked at the game unfolding below.

Bradley Bradshaw approached the plate, lining up to take his turn at bat. His bright white uniformed baseball shirt, emblazoned with the team logo across the front, his last name in bold, block lettering across the back of his broad shoulders, hugged at his sun kissed biceps as they flexed. One of his tattoos just barely visible from under the sleeve of the shirt.

He took two practice swings, and once he was comfortable, lined up with the plate. He narrowed his eyes in focus as he looked to the pitcher, giving him the coldest stare down he could muster, his face fixed in a state of concentration. A year and a half ago, he would have begun trash-talking his opponent from the start, calling out that he’d seen his grandmother lob better pitches, and she’d been dead for 15 years. Instead, Bradley forced himself to behave, willing any inappropriate comments about Jake Seresin’s mother to himself, for now.

He took a swing at the first pitch lobbed towards him with a loud grunt, biting his tongue as he held back a frustrated fuck from his lips as the ball sailed past him, landing in the catcher’s mitt with a thud.

Strike one.

He caught your gaze in the sea of faces that were watching him expectantly, his lips curling up into a soft smile as he looked towards the family and friends boxes where you stood, waving subtly to him to gain his attention. He gave you a subtle nod of his head, symbolic of a thank you, for Bradley.

In an instant, Bradley was back in the game, level-headed and laser focused, ready for the next pitch that was coming, as if seeing you had brought him back down to earth, willing him to focus his attention on something other than his once uncontrollable anger.

He wasn’t often this soft. He never used to be. In fact, he was never considered to be a gentleman when he played any sport. He couldn’t lose graciously. It wasn’t in his nature. He was serious, determined and reserved, focused and dedicated, but even his best intended plans couldn’t withstand his explosive temper. It wasn’t that he wanted to be a walking stick of dynamite.

He didn’t intend to fly off the handle at everyone around if he made a bad play or if someone commented on his skills not being on point the way they once were, but after nothing but criticism for the last four years of his career, Bradley thought his outbursts were justifiable.

If he had to hear another comment about being “washed up” at thirty-one, he might snap again, unable to bite his tongue much longer. And if he had a bat in hand? He’d show whoever it was just how good his game still was. He knew his career didn’t have many years left in it, but he had just as much right as any other up and coming young asshole in the MLB to be here. But one bad year at twenty-seven had turned into two, which turned into three, which now crept up on reaching four.

Admittedly, this year was turning out to be marginally better than the three previous - he didn’t know what to chalk it up to at first.

Herefused to admit he could be in love. Love was never for him. At least, that’s what his ex-wife told him when she filed for divorce four years prior. He’d just been starting to make a name for himself as a promising first baseman when she served him the papers, leaving him with a burning desire to focus everything he had on the one thing that he thought couldn’t break him - baseball. That desperate need to be good at something, anything, drove him to the brink of insanity. He couldn’t control himself or his need to be the best in the only area he knew he could be anymore.

However, that train of thought came to a screeching, grinding halt when he met you.

As Bradley remained focused on his turn at bat, he took a swing at the second pitch sent his way, a fastball that, if he was a smart man, he would have let go, taking the ball instead of risking a strike at a pitch that far outside.

However, Bradley was not a smart man. Not when it came to his turns at bat.

Even he couldn’t hide his momentary shock as the ball made contact with the wooden bat in his hands with a crack. He started running towards first base, rounding it quickly before making the smarter decision to stay put, rather than aim for second. He looked towards where you were watching him from once again, smiling to himself as he watched you blow a kiss towards him. He couldn’t wait to finish this game and just hold you and kiss you. Watch you walk around the house with nothing but his baseball jersey on, just barely long enough on you to cover your private areas, giving him a little sneak peek as you bent over to unload the dishwasher, or reached up to grab a wine glass for yourself when you were ready to unwind for the evening.

Those delicious thighs, soft and smooth as he ran his hands up and down them, the way you’d giggle and kick your legs playfully when he grasped at the back of them, even though he knew you were ticklish there. He didn’t give a rat’s ass though. He loved the way you laughed. He swore it was up there on the list of the most beautiful sounds in the world, along with the way you said his name right before you reached your orgasm, the way you’d call him ‘honey’ in passing and the sound of a World Series crowd chanting your number.

Images of his hands lifting the back of that jersey up, shoving the excess material at the bottom out of his way as he pounded into you from behind flashed across his mind, the sounds of you whining out in pleasure as he relentlessly fucked into you, your pretty, pink folds glistening with arousal, letting him slide in and out of you with ease. The thought alone was almost enough to make him curse the athletic cup that was sitting in his baseball pants at the moment, making it increasingly uncomfortable to move as he felt himself hardening at the thought of you.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to take you in the hotel room later.

As he rounded the bases to home after his teammate’s home run hit, his mind drifted to the thought of your teeth sinking into the tanned, taut skin of his shoulder as he made love to you in the California King Bed that awaited you both in the hotel suite after the game. Your fingers gripping his dark curly hair tightly, tangling into them and tugging as he licked and sucked on your neck, leaving a trail of purpling bite marks down you as he marked you as his own. Not that you protested - in fact, you encouraged it.

As the game progressed, Bradley continued to think about the various ways he could make you his as soon as he got you alone. His mind raced as he thought of you again - in every way possible. He thought about your perfume, how it had some kind of hypnotic hold over him, leaving him momentarily dazed whenever he breathed in your scent. He thought about your smile, how you lit up the entire room when you beamed at him - how you were one of the only people to ever look at him like he meant everything in the world to you, and how you made him feel special and loved and wanted, for the first time in years. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt the way you made him feel.

His ex-wife had been cold and cut-off from him emotionally, physically. She was never satisfied just being with him. She resented that he couldn’t put all of his attention on her, 100% of the time, despite Bradley feeling like he tried his best to balance his career and home life as best as he could. When she had told him she was ready to have a baby, he’d been entirely on board - ready and willing to start a family. What he wasn’t prepared for, was walking in on her sleeping with a rookie from a rival team in the hotel room that Bradley had paid for.

As he packed up his gear after the game, his team pulling ahead with a win thanks to a home run hit he scored in the 8th inning that shocked even him, he let out a deep, satisfied sigh. He had proved himself for another day, and he was proud of himself for it. He figured at this rate, if he kept it up, he could be discussing his comeback season with the press after another couple of games. The thought of being respected once again in the sport was electrifying, enough to send a shockwave pulsating through his veins as he switched out of his cleats and into his street shoes.

He headed out of the locker room, his baseball bag slung over his shoulder and his cap turned backwards, with tufts of dark chestnut brown curls peaking out through the opening. He spotted you, wearing one of his spare jerseys unbuttoned with a short little black dress on underneath, with a pair of stark white running shoes. Your matching baseball cap was sported backwards, just like Bradley’s, a style he started adopting on your advice. You’d flipped his cap around one day during a playful round of sex in the backseat of his vintage Ford Bronco, telling him it looked so much hotter on him when he wore it so that you could still see his face. He took that advice to heart, and now, every chance he could, backwards is how it was.

You happily skipped over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck loosely as you peppered his lips with feather-light kisses. He laughed softly and shook his head when you finally pulled away, his cheeks burning into a rosy red tone as a slight wave of embarrassment washed over him.

It wasn’t your kisses or affection that embarrassed him though. It was the fact that after 18 months of dating, he still wasn’t used to it. It was partially his own fault — his ex-wife had never been an affectionate lover, but even after that, he refused to actually be in a relationship with anyone. He enjoyed sex, and that was all he wanted. He wasn’t looking for his heart to be broken again, and it suited him just fine until you came along.

He’d met you once in passing — he’d gotten himself embroiled in a bar brawl with some guy who’s mouth ran faster than the speed of light. Bradley’s nose had been broken and bloodied as a result, and you’d been leaving the bar with a handful of friends. You’d recognized Bradley as the guy who’d hit on you earlier in the night, and to your surprise, graciously accepted your rejection when you turned him down. When you saw him in this light though, drunk and vulnerable, you felt sorry for him.

Taking a couple of tissues from your purse, you helped clean up his face as best as you could, sending your friends on their way without you as you took on this newfound role of nurse to him. With few other options to stop his nosebleed, you’d handed him a tampon from your purse. He laughed initially, in complete and total refusal to use it. You had gestured to his floral print white polo shirt, the collar now stained with drips of blood from his face. He huffed a sigh and followed your advice, grumbling as you insisted on making awkward small talk as you sat and waited with him to get checked out.

That was the first time since his mother’s passing that anyone had ever shown Bradley an ounce of compassion when he was injured. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol talking or not , but he could have sworn you were an angel with the way you smiled at him and how soothing he found your voice.

Now, eighteen months later, standing here with your arms wrapped around him, his hands on your waist as you fussed over him and congratulated him on his performance in this afternoon’s game, he was sure. You were heaven sent.. In fact, it was what he called you — angel. He’d decided early on it was the perfect nickname for you, and as time went on, he only proved himself right.

“Everyone’s left, right?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow at him as he snapped back to reality, shooting a quick glance behind his shoulder.

“Mhmm. I was the last one out of the showers. Looks like it’s just us left here.”

“Perfect. I have a little something for you.”

“Do you?” He inquired, eyebrows raised as he smirked, a million ideas running through his head at what his surprise could be.

Together, you walked back towards the now deserted dugout, the ballpark that was roaring with excitement an hour ago was now silent, deserted by players and fans alike. You grinned as you turned around to face Bradley, dropping down to your knees in front of him, gazing up at him with a doe-eyed stare that was almost enough to make him groan out in pleasure.

“Wh-you mean, this is my surprise? You’re gonna suck my dick in the dugout, angel?”

“I know you’ve always wanted me to. And you played so good today, honey. How could I say no?” You purred as you undid the belt holding his pants in place.

He dropped his baseball pants down to his ankles, and before his hands could remove the tight fitting boxer briefs he’d changed into post-game, your mouth was pressed against the tightening bulge, pressing warm kisses to it in a way that made Bradley’s mind foggy. He couldn’t think straight and he wasn’t even in your mouth yet.

Fuck.

He knew he wouldn’t last long if this was how worked up he was feeling at your mouth touching him. As you tugged his boxers down, peeling them off his thighs to free his cock. A white bead of pre-cum pearled on his tip, leading Bradley to elicit a pornographic moan as your thumb swiped across it, whisking the liquid away before you began pumping your hand up and down his shaft. You tauntingly flicked your tongue out over the tip of his erection, encircling the red, throbbing head with a trail of saliva before licking a strip along the underside to his balls. Bradley shuddered as he felt you continue to lick up and down his length, your hand pumping him tightly when you alternated and pressed your lips to the tip.

After what felt to Bradley like an eternity, you took his tip past your parted lips, hollowing your cheeks as you began to suck on his cock like it was some kind of refreshing summer treat. As you took him further back in your mouth, your saliva began to pool around his shaft, dribbling out down his length as you tried to take more of him into you. He grunted your name as he gathered your hair in his hand, gripping tightly as he thrusted his hips forward into your mouth.

You gagged as you felt his tip brush the back of your throat, causing more of your spit to soak his cock, your hand using it as lubrication as you continued to pump on whatever didn’t fit past your lips. Bradley began panting, gasping and singing your praises as he fucked your mouth. Your eyelids fluttered as you shut them for a quick moment to concentrate yourself on your technique until you felt a hand gently squeezing your cheeks, making your mouth seemingly tighten harder around Bradley.

“Nuh, uh, beautiful. Eyes on me,” he directed.

You gazed up at him with that same doe-eyed stare again, batting your lashes as you watched his facial expression, his eyes shutting as he enjoyed the feel of your mouth as it sucked and licked at his cock, working him into his orgasm.

“Shit, angel, ‘m’not gonna last,” Bradley panted, deep chocolate brown eyes fixated on you as he watched you pull your mouth back from him almost entirely before thrusting yourself fully into him.

His lids shut again as he drew his head back, saying your name as if it was a hymn he was singing. He let out a deep, throaty grunt as he shot hot, white ropes of his cum down your throat. Your eyes never left his as you swallowed hard, making sure that he could see you as you did it before pulling yourself back off his cock. Pulling yourself to your feet, you wiped the saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning proudly at the mess you’d made out of Bradley.

His eyes deepened with a burning, lustful hunger for you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, picking you up off your feet and grinning.

“I gotta return the favour, now, angel. You know the rules. You wear a pretty little skirt like that, and I just have to eat that pussy of yours.” He said matter-of-factly as he pulled his bottoms back up, chuckling to himself as he tightened his belt back up. “Bet you did it on purpose, didn’t you, honey? Knew I wouldn’t be able to resist eating that perfect little cunt of yours if you wore something like this?”

“I may have been thinking something along those lines,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders as he laid you down on the bench.

He straddled the bench in front of your legs and tutted his tongue at you, giving you a head shake of disapproval before raising an eyebrow at you.

“Angel, come on, spread those pretty thighs of yours nice and wide for me. Throw your legs over my shoulders if you have to.”

You obeyed his command, biting down on your lip as you fought back a grin, draping your legs over his broad shoulders as he slipped between them, his mouth hovering just over your folds. He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin with his teeth. You let out a soft yelp of pleasure, feeling your body writhe at the mere suggestion of Bradley’s mouth down there on you.

“Look at you,” Bradley purred as he spread your folds apart with two thick fingers. “So pretty and wet for me already? Sucking my cock got you all worked up like this?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, trying to concentrate your thoughts into a sentence.

“C’mon, honey, use your words for me. Wanna hear you say it,” Bradley said as he flicked his tongue out, swiping it across your swollen, sensitive clit.

“Bradley,” you whined as you arched your back at the slow, sensual teasing, “You know exactly why I’m like this already.”

“Mhmm, my perfect angel,” he cooed as he licked at your folds again, gathering your arousal on his tongue.

As Bradley’s tongue ravaged you, eating you out like a man starved on a desert island for the last few months, your heart began to race, a burning desire brewing in the pit of your stomach. While Bradley’s tongue lapped at your arousal, he delved two thick fingers into your pulsating core, pumping them into your g-spot. You could picture him grinning to himself as he heard your needy, whiny moans, panting his name as if it was the only word you were able to say anymore. That was just how he liked it though - making it so he was the only thing on your mind. He prided himself on it.

Your thighs began to shake as he dug the fingers of his free hand into your flesh, holding you in place. He pulled his mouth away from you for a moment with a loud suck. You whimpered at the loss of contact, looking down at him from beneath hooded lids as he continued to fuck his fingers deeper into you.

“That’s it, angel. I played my best for you today, wanted to do right, earn this pretty little pussy of yours. Make it mine,” he husked.

Your walls clenched down tightly around his fingers as he spoke, the words alone enough to send you over the edge. He pressed his lips to your clit once again, giving it a long, tantalizing suck as he drew your orgasm out of you. Instead of his name, this time all you could get out of your mouth was a breathless, blissed out moan, unable to formulate words as your brain fogged. Bradley continued to praise you, coaching you through your climax like a personal trainer coaching you through a workout.

He drew his hand up to his mouth, sucking on his fingers until they were clean, his wide tongue pressing flat against them before pulling them out of his mouth with a loud pop. You blinked twice at him, still dazed from your orgasm as he pulled your underwear back up your legs.

“You ok, angel?” Bradley grinned as he tapped your thigh gently with his hand to try and bring you back to reality. Your blissfully fucked out stare was all he needed, a soft smile on your face as you tried to regain your composure.

“We’re just getting started, baby. I’ve got 48 hours with you before my next game, I’m making each one of those hours count.”

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meraki-sunset · 1 year

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Sup uhhhhh i did this as a reference for writing. Maybe it can be usefull for someone else out there.

It’s all trolls with known signs’s classpect and tittle acording to the extended zodiac

The hotdog juggling guy i made it up. I just like him. he’s just a lil guy.

Also, we all agree Fiamet is a lime in disguise right? the lime socks, the lack of fins, the tail(???) why the heck does she have a tail when no other troll in history have had one? no one knows, a little mary sue if you ask me. But whatever acording to the extended zodiac, her sign is Aquamino = violet/doom/prospit wich i think is a fake sign to blend in and her real sign is Camino (means path in spanish lol) exactly the same aspect and moon but with her real blood, lime. Wich looks like water waves, tiding up to the whole axolotle shiny-pokemon thing

EDIT: aparently Idarat, the OC from the winner of the comic contest is canonically also a lime in disguise and like what i theorized with Fiamet, his true symbol acording to his creator is the same lunar sway and aspect as his visible teal sign, but lime.

#homestuck

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ramelcandy · 2 months

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Welcome Home Cookbook Theories/Analyses part 1

I saw this post by @mobileleprechaun and the addition by @snowedinrowan, and was struck by the desire to analyze some other dishes from the Cookbook and how they might relate to the characters. Along with the potential downsides of their roles in the show.

So, let's go!

• The Holly Jolly Dog-a-Days is, undoubtebly, Barnaby's portion of the Cookbook, and notably one of the only ones with so many variaties and no ingrendients list.

It starts out fairly normal, depicting different types of Hotdogs with names and a punny decription of them, as to be expected of him.

However, the options quickly devolve into things that look less and less like real dishes. And more like increasingly exaggerated attempts at creating new dishes. Which ends with plates that looks like they were taken from a completely different places than the first ones.

(Even the lighting of these pictures are different)

The symbolism to me, seems to correlate to how Barnaby's role as The Funny One, constantly demands that he makes New and unique jokes/tricks almost non-stop.

I believe this could lead him to begin experiencing humour fatigue, with the repetitive and deteriorating nature of the dishes representing how it feels for him.

• Perhaps, it's even foreshadowing the character journey he will go through in the future, if we take dishes 24 and 25, respectually-

-and relate it to the 'Barnaby dying theory' and the I Made A Dog illustration

#welcome home theory #welcome home analysis #welcome home puppet show #welcome home update #welcome home spoilers #welcome home #long post #Oooo I have so much to analyze in this new update(excited)

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smile-files · 2 months

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a welcome home cipher masterpost :)

hello, neighbors!! if you, like me, have spent the past waking hours perusing the new welcome home website, then you've surely seen a bunch of little symbols scattered around the pages... i was very curious about them, seeing how i couldn't click on them like the bugs in the previous update, but then i saw this image of the backside of the cereal box on the merchandise page:

a cipher, featuring all of those weird symbols!! and each one represents a different letter of the alphabet.

i got to work looking around for all of the symbols i could find, and i want to compile them all here so we can try and figure out what they mean. i will include screenshots, categorized by page, and put the letters the symbols correspond to in parentheses.

main page

star (i), ham (m), home (o)

tree (a)

about us

tree (a)

snow? (r)

stickers

letter (e)

news

gelatin (t)

media

cigarette (y)

mitten? (g)

merchandise

bracelet? (p)

cigarette (y)

letter (e)

snow? (r)

transcripts

cigarette (y)

neighborhood

bug (f), bowling (s), hotdog (n), letter (e)

gravyboat (w)

exhibition

hotdog (n)

guestbook

gravyboat (w), gravyboat (w), gravyboat (w)

okay, so what does this all mean?

i'm not quite sure! i suspect there is some url to be made using the letters - the last www is especially telling - but i'm not sure what order the letters go in or even if i've found all of them.

please let me know if you find any more symbols, a secret page, or anything else that can help us uncover this mystery!! remember to wave up high, neighbor!!!

#melonposting #welcome home #welcome home update #welcome home homewarming #welcome home theory #whee!!! :D

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visenyaism · 6 months

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sure rhaenyra raised the price of a costco hotdog (valid reason to hate) but do believe that aegon ii would pull a iTunes/U2 and force the smallfolk to subscribe to his podcast with logan paul

nah grandpa otto knows too damn well that the entirety of Aegon’s monarchical power is centered around him being an empty vaguely legitimate symbol of a good targaryen king with the sword and the name and the dragon and never ever opening his mouth and letting the people know the things that he has on his mind. they let him record a podcast for enrichment and then larys immediately destroys all copies

#except the one larys keeps for later #asoiaf #thé aegon aemond criston frenemies podcast would go crazy

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carlyraejepsans · 7 months

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BOY QUIET.

JOHN BOY QUIET.

BOY YOU WANT SOME HOTDOGS

LOOK AT MY SYMBOLS BOY.

#hs

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incorrect-phantom-thieves · 1 year

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Ren: Every time I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke.

Yusuke: Okay, but what is updog?

Ryuji: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish.

Futaba: No, that’s a hotdog. Updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released.

Ann: No, that's an update. You’re thinking of the fourth largest city in Sweden.

Sumire: Surely that’s Uppsala, whereas updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter.

Makoto: That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs.

Morgana: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current.

Haru: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway.

Yusuke: What’s a henway?

Ren: Oh, about five pounds.

#persona 5 #ren amamiya #ryuji sakamoto #futaba sakura #makoto niijima #ann takamaki #yusuke kitagawa #sumire yoshizawa #haru okumura #p5 morgana #phantom theives

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lovelywetdreamer · 6 months

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💜🌸~Jock X Nerd💜🌸~

On campus, Eren is basically a superstar for being a famous quarterback for the university. To you, he is your cocky, annoying roommate with a good heart. He will brag and brag on day ends how about he is the best player while helping you take out your braids or painting your toenails for you. You don't blame him for bragging about skills because the boy can back it up. You just get annoyed and worried about him. Life isn't just football. He needed a good education to lean on just in case football doesn't work out. Eren thinks it sweet, but also a pain to hear you talk about getting a good education. Education and he are strangers. He is not smart like you, an honors roll student. His grades didn't get him into college. Football got him into college.

It was an average day with Eren and you in the apartment. He was working out and pumping himself up for the upcoming football game in the living room while you was studying in the kitchen. Eren didn't mind you studying in the living room while he works out. He actually like having you in the living room when he is getting a good sweat on. You're his personal cheerleader without knowing it of course. Eren may not be the smartest, but he knows it dumb to have a crush on his roomate. Even thought the way you bite on your lip drove him crazy when you are having a hard time understanding your flashcard. He would bite and kisses them if you gave him the chance.

You didn't mind studying when Eren was working out. Your brain didn't mind, but your kitty did every time he moan or groan. You always get wet dreams of Eren pinning you the bed and just bucking his hip against your. The man had you in all different type of position and places. In one wet dream, you rode him on the football field. In another dream, he fucking you while the teacher Levi is teaching a lesson.

Sadly these events can only happen in wet dream, it was a really bad idea to sleep with your roommate. Plus Eren was more than a sex symbol to you, he was just genius friend. He listen to your problem and engaged with you. Like your hotdog problem, why is it so hard to find a good hotdog for a good price? Eren agreed with you. He also secretly stroked himself off to your silly problem. He wondered if you would like to have his juicy meaty hotdog inside you.

Anyways everything was going normal until Eren received the worst news on his life. His grades gotten too low for him to play in the upcoming game. He needed at least a C in all his classes to play, but sadly he ended up getting a D in his Human Anatomy class. Lucky or unlucky for him, he have a proctor exam that is coming up to saved or killed his grade. He was about to panic untiled he remembered he the smartest person for a roomate.

#eren yeager aot #eren x reader #eren x black reader #black female #kinda smutty

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cishetlessfashion · 2 months

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Punk/goth queer genderfaun trans masc fashion with silly, colorful jewelry for anon Lovecore bat earrings Genderfaun flag anarchy symbol patch Barbie dream hearse earrings Hotdog necklace Iridescent clear guillotine earrings Spiked crucifix choker Queer flag patch Anti fascist pendant Milkshake and cupcake ring Spine zipper patch

#trendercore #transgender #transmasc #transmasculine #nonbinary #nb #enby #cw religious imagery

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lucky-dreamfisher · 1 year

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Have you seen Matpats new theory on Bendy and the Dark Revival?

Yeah, I've seen it.

Alas, it's wrong. I loved the way he managed to make the memory items meaningful and the connection to Tessa is interesting and gives me a lot of thoughts and theories of my own. But Nathan didn't open an animation studio until after Joey's death, and Tessa was still alive at the time. We know this, because he mentions visiting the animators in the same audio log where he talks about bringing the hotdog to Tessa.

And yet... those memory items the way they seem to be tied to Wilson is extremely interesting to me, and I want to propose a different theory: what if the items were never meant to have been Audrey's memories, but rather Wilson's? Not in the sense of Wilson's soul somehow being inside Audrey, but simply because Wilson's mind is affecting the ink world in the same way that Joey's did before?

Remember when I complained that despite being told that Wilson has control over the world, we never saw the same signs of it as we did with Joey (eg. the paintings on the walls being the same as inside his apartment, and some of the writings on the wall clearly referring to him?)

What if the memory items are this to Wilson? Bits of his mind and memories materializing inside the world under his control?

Some more evidence:

The icon for achievement for collecting memories looks like the eye used to symbolize Wilson in the game

A lot of memory items can be found in places connected to Wilson or Nathan

One of the items mentions roadtrips, but that's unlikely to be a thing Joey did with Audrey, given that he was wheelchair-bound.

And finally, notice that the description on the items is extremely vague about the gender of the child they belonged to.

#bendy and the dark revival #bendy and the ink machine #wilson arch #audrey drew #nathan arch #joey drew #dreamfisher certified #ask

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innytoes · 5 months

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Guardian Angels AU + Criminals AU for Willex please :D

-Alex is a guardian angel, and he's trying to convince his manager to give him harder cases. All he got to do was keep himbos alive. Like that guy who tried to fix his amp in the rain. His soul was sunshine yellow, and glowed. And the run away who nearly ate poison hotdogs, whose soul was a deep blue. He wanted more than himbos, come on, he was ready.

-So his boss gave him a new charge. Who was a criminal. Doing crimes. Like, all the time.

-And when he asked what he was supposed to do with this, his boss just smiled and told him to figure it out.

-So he did. Guardian Angels were supposed to safeguard not just the person physically, but also their soul. He was pretty worried, but when he looked it up in the Soul Room, his criminal's soul was as clean as any of his himbo charges. His soul was a bright, vivid green, like a newly formed leaf. Which was weird. Weren't crimes Bad? Shouldn't his soul be dull and tarnished?

-He talked to some more experienced Angels. Rose cooed and patted his halo, telling him humans were more complicated than that. She told him to look into what exactly Willie was doing.

-So he did. Whenever his alarms weren't blaring because Yellow was trying to befriend a dog about to bite his fingers off or Blue's blood sugar got dangerously low because he'd been writing for hours, he watched Green.

-And he learned that most of his Crimes were just... art. He was making the world more beautiful. Sure, he was trespassing and climbing places he shouldn't and technically defacing property. But Alex could also see the joy it brought others, the hope.

The way that old lady who never got out anymore would look at the bird he'd painted on the side of a building, and smile. The way the little stickers Green would doodle and slap over hateful symbols not only removed some ugliness from the world, but also make people laugh with dumb puns.

-Sure, there were also other crimes. He stole sometimes. But it was only so he could eat. He even shared his meals when he could, often with people younger than him, more vulnerable.

-And okay some of the crimes had to do with harassing those in power but really, Alex had seen the souls of those people. They could use a little chaos.

-Angels didn't have favourites, but Alex found himself watching Green more often than not. Not that he didn't like listening to the music in Blue's soul, or experience the joy of Yellow helping animals at the animal shelter. But something about Green fascinated Alex.

-So he kept cops from bothering Green while he was making the world more beautiful. He made sure to preform some little miracles that meant that maybe that box of stolen food had more in it than it should, so that everyone Green shared it with could have some. He saved Green from getting hit by a car when he was skating in traffic, though he couldn't help but make it a close call, in the hopes that he'd learn skating in traffic was bad.

-Rose was the one who noticed first because of course she did. "I will have your back no matter what, but you be very careful and think very hard about what you're going to do, mijo," she warned, even though Alex was just doing his job. He was doing it better than he ever had, really. He stopped futzing around as much with Blue and Yellow, trying to get them to meet already, which his boss was happy with. (Of course, his boss didn't know it was because he was too busy obsessing over Green.)

-He didn't understand what Rose meant until it was much, much too late. Until he was falling, falling, right into the path of an oncoming skateboard and...

-"Oh man, you dinged my board!"

-"You ran me over!"

-Being human wasn't really what Alex had been expecting. He sometimes missed his wings, and the fact that it was so dark out without his halo. He didn't like having just two eyes. It gave him anxiety, not being able to see the world in five dimensions.

-But he knew Rose was looking out for him, and he knew he was where he was meant to be. Here with Willie. He couldn't see his soul anymore, but he knew it was still as bright and beautiful as ever. Just like Willie himself.

#julie and the phantoms #willex #angel au #criminal au #AUs are awesome #not!fic #I wrote a thing #fanfic #you know Alex is gonna find Luke and Reggie and make sure they meet now #if he's gonna do this Angel On Earth thing he's gonna do it right #don't think too hard about the timeline here but yes Rose totally was like Alex and just returned after her stint on earth like....#OKAY I'M BACK ANYWAY DIBS ON MY FAMILY #And on alex!

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legalkimchi · 15 days

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Spam.

Spam has a bad rep.

Most of the folks I've met in my life decry spam as garbage food. A symbol of everything wrong with the food industry. Caned, processed meat. High in sodium and preservatives. It's been called unhealthy, which it may well be. We hate it so much in the US, we refer to unwanted mail as spam...

I often ask folks how they first experienced spam. Usually they tell me how awful it is. They ate it straight from the can.

What?

Look, just because it is "safe" to eat right out of the can doesn't mean that's what you are supposed to do.

You can fry it up, soak it in a marinate, put it in a stew, chop it into cubes and put it in a wok with fried rice. The list goes on.

I grew up eating spam. This is due to my mother being a Korean of a certain age. She was born, we believe, immediately after the korean war. I say "believe" because records aren't great from that timeframe in korea. We assume it is between 1954-1956.

She was raised on foods taken or recieved from the US army. That generation of koreans has an interesting culinary relationship with spam, hotdogs, and corn bread. Because corn meal was cheap and given as foreign aid, or smuggled from army bases. Same with spam. There is an entire style of stew in korea (a culture known for their soups) called budae jigae (army base stew). It has Ramen noodles, spam, hot dogs, American cheese, kimchi, and a variety of other things.

When you're hungry, you survive. Your delicate palate be damned.

But you also develope a taste for these things. I know a half dozen ways to prep spam in a meal. And I can afford "better food," whatever that means.

But you never know. So much of the foods hipster foodies obsess over are another cultures' desperation food. Pho, ramen, musubi etc.

Maybe spam, or budae jigae, will be next.

#food #foodie #spam

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