#we are the champ

[hinamie]

newest issue of first years fashion just dropped

[chaunkai]

ALCOHOL or cigarettes

am

「ねえ、アイス食べていい？」

pm

「ご飯の前にアイスは、映画のエンドロールから観るようなものだよ。」

am

「でも、エンドロールにもおまけ映像あるじゃん！」

pm

「おまけ映像は、最後まで観た人へのご褒美なんだよ。」

am

「じゃあ、ご飯の前にアイス食べたら、ご飯がご褒美になるんだね！」

pm

「ご飯がご褒美なら、世界中の子供たちがもっと野菜を食べてるよ。」

am

「世界中の子供たちに聞いてみないと分からないじゃん！」

pm

「じゃあ、まずは日本代表としてご飯を食べてみようか？」

am

「うーん…じゃあ、ご飯食べたらアイス2個ね！」

pm

「交渉上手だね。

でも、アイスは1日1個までって国際ルールがあるんだ。」

am

「どこの国？」

pm

「お母さん国だよ。」

am

「強そう…。」

[cheekyvank]

it takes two pt 2 this, split fiction pt 2 that. what about trombone champ part 2. who's fighting for her

[somethingsgottasaveyou]

"Where do you see yourself in 10 years?"

At a concert, hopefully

[pengu1n-flyer]

kind of infuriating how majority of childhood games work on the basis of “hunt and catch” or “run/escape danger” when i never use these skills in adult life smh

adults don’t even want to play hunt and catch hide and seek or escape predator vs catch herd of prey one by one tag anymore :(((

[codysdaily]

LORDDD HIS ARMS, I just want to take a bite out of them JSJJSJ

-Smackdown ( 03/14/25 )

[attleboy]

What if Pomni got mesmerized by Caine swinging his stick around and chomped it?

thank you anon for your genius...

bite and shake him and bite and shake him and bite and shake

bonus individual frames and some concept sketches i made for my personalized caine design! :)

it was fun, but i think i'm happier with simplified version i used for the comic... it pains me to take away his thigh high boots but idk if i can make them work </3

[kedsandtubesocks]

game changer (national league)

MLB catcher!Frankie Morales x F!Reader

summary: it’s your boyfriend’s first big game on his new team & you can’t wait to see what fun the match holds for you and your favorite player

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, baseball AU, light use of gendered language, good cozy fluff, lovesick & sweet!Frankie, competency kink, smutty thoughts, spicy themes, light mask & outfit kink, car sex, heavy making out, oral (f receiving), allusion to p in v, eventual!husband Frankie, lots of baseball talk

word count: 2.9k

a/n: yeah didn’t think I’d ever make a new baseball story for another Pedro boy but I’m on that World Series championship celebration high so here we are LMAO, thanks to @tonysopranosrobe my darling for always dealing with my sports ass (ily forever Han) & to @jolapeno for always being the best Frankie enabler i could ever scream with (I adore you Jo) - and to anyone who decides to read please know I appreciate you thank you so much ♡

This is Frankie’s first season catching as a Los Angeles Dodger. You thought he’d be playing for Miami until he eventually retired. But baseball is still a strange sport, an almost chaotic rush of chess at times with pieces switching all around.

“A team still wants me even when I’m about to turn thirty nine. So fuck, yeah I’ll take it.” Frankie had joked then, but you knew, even for his age, he’s considered one of the league’s best veteran players.

Then before the trade was finalized, Frankie sat you down and told you he might be moving to LA.

“This means…we really might not be seeing each other as often.” He muttered. “But I can maybe try to see if Tampa can be an option.”

He was willing to find a way to stay in Florida for you. Even though you were a bit heartbroken he was leaving, you couldn’t let him pass up on this amazing deal and new opportunity.

The gentle cooling California breeze now flutters all around. You won’t be able to make many trips out here often, but you wanted to at least be here for the first home game to support your favorite baseball player.

You first were introduced to Frankie at your best friend’s cookout. You had met her cousins Benny and his brother Will before. You were instead being introduced to all their friends, including the very handsome Santiago who insisted you call him Pope.

However, it was Frankie who stole your heart that day.

You and him had accidentally walked into each other, causing your drink to spill on him. Frantic, and so embarrassingly apologetic, you immediately went to wipe away your mess.

“I gotta admit… I’ve been trying to work up the confidence to talk to you. Guess the universe helped me out a bit.” Frankie had shyly said, and his words sent your heart fluttering.

It was an effortlessly sweet introduction after that, filled with easy small talk. When you asked what he did for work, Frankie explained he worked at the stadium for the Miami Marlins.

“Oh that’s cool!” You had said bright, but Benny just as bright yelled out -

“It’s cause he fucking plays there!”

Frankie had blushed furious, cussing angrily in Spanish at Benny. But what Benny said was true.

Frankie, very humbled and almost embarrassed, confirmed he did in fact play for the Marlins.

“But I’m just a water boy.” He added with a boyish grin.

“He’s a fucking liar! He’s one of the league’s best catchers!” Pope had then yelled proud.

You became friends with Frankie that day, but you also quickly learned about Francisco Morales.

Professional Major League Baseball player Francisco Morales.

That very first day you met Frankie your knowledge of baseball was bare bones.

Now, as his girlfriend, he jokes how hot it is hearing you talk about the game with him or anyone else.

It’s how you’re able to mingle with the others in the large friends and family suite for the team now. The food of course is delicious, and everyone warmly welcomes you. But you want to be by the action when the game starts.

You need to be near your guy.

Frankie’s job as a catcher has him sitting behind home plate.

A catcher is an intense position. They’re the one person during the game that has full eyes on the field. They alone protect home plate and sometimes call pitches for the pitcher to throw. The catcher is even argued to be the commander of the field. Catchers need to be solid, almost a rock like foundation for their team.

“I only started playing catcher in high school ‘cause our team’s catcher got suspended, and they needed someone, so I just did it.” Frankie had told you with a shrug.

To you though, Frankie seemed born to be a catcher.

Even as quietly warm and playful your Frankie can be, he holds a stead quiet diligence. Always watching, protective of those he cares for. He’s hardworking and incredibly resilient.

However, there was a joke you read about catchers being stubborn because what person willingly and stubbornly sits in the same position game after game. You can greatly agree to the hidden stubborn streak Frankie holds, like stubbornly telling you he was going to fix your ceiling fan and then getting pissy when you had Benny simply do it for you.

But stubborn or not, Frankie has been the most perfect and openly communicative partner. Even with the long distance between you and him, he has always been a phone call away. He even stepped away from a pregame warm up when you called him crying and upset.

Your heart tries not to burst just thinking about him.

Then you catch a glimpse of him sliding his protective mask on, and your throat gets dry.

The first time you went to a game and witnessed Frankie in full catcher mode, you almost didn’t think it was him. The mask covered his face most of the time and the gear almost made him seem bigger.

It’s been many games since that first match, yet he still takes your breath away.

The mask covers most of his face, but you can still catch peaks of him. It does something to you knowing it’s him beneath it.

Now he takes the field in his new lovely blue catcher’s gear.

The chest guard extenuates his broad shoulders and strong chest. And if you thought baseball pants did amazing things for men’s legs and butts, the catcher’s leg guards highlight Frankie’s gloriously thick thighs and study legs.

Pride absolutely courses through you watching him behind the plate and warming up with the dodger’s pitcher.

“Come on, catfish!” Someone from the crowd even yells his famous nickname, and your lips twitch fondly.

With your Morales jersey on, you cheer loud and exhilarated when the game starts.

Frankie is unwavering behind the plate, rarely letting any wild pitch get past him. He earns the love of his new team fast.

Especially when he goes up to bat.

The walk up song he picked to play in the stadium is Led Zeppelin’s Black Dog, and the crowd cheers electrified when it booms loud over the speakers.

As hot as Frankie looks in his catcher’s gear, seeing him in the base uniform, with his batter’s helmet on, working on his swing just amplifies the strength of his shoulder and amazing arms - you’re in awe of how absolutely gorgeous he is.

He ends up striking out, but you still cheer loud and with reassurance.

“Looking good, Morales!” You even scream, and you swear you see his lips twitch fighting a grin.

The Cardinals take the lead fast with two runs. The game becomes a slow claw to catch up. By the fifth the score hasn’t changed with St. Louis leading. But then the bats get hot and the dodgers manage to get on the board to tie.

The game heads to the bottom of the eight inning and the atmosphere dances electrified with the hope of a chance.

Eventually two players get on base with two outs, a very dangerous situation.

And Frankie goes up to bat.

You along with the rest of your section close by the field stand to cheer him and the rest of the team on.

This is a chance to score.

The first pitch comes too high.

The second speeds in, a sharp inside pitch that has Frankie swinging a strike.

It stings, but it’s a good swing. Plus there’s still time, more pitches. You reassuringly rally behind Frankie hoping just an inch of your words reach him among the buzz of the game.

The pitcher throws the next pitch, a wild breaking ball.

Frankie swings. The bat hits the ball with a rattling whack sending it zooming right along the first base line.

The stadium erupts wild. You scream watching Frankie run to first then watching a player run in, scoring the run. Francisco’s hit brought in the lead.

Your favorite player now on first base screams jubilant and punches the air elated.

The excitement of seeing Frankie bring the run in, seeing him so exuberant…it’s a moment coated in a glimmering confetti that cements into your soul.

The start of the ninth inning comes, and Frankie emerges behind the plate, your armored hero.

If the Dodgers manage to hold the Cardinals, they’ll win.

Each pitch, each play, has you on the edge of your seat.

At one point the batter for St. Louis hits a foul ball. Frankie flips off his mask, allowing for sight to catch the ball.

Of course the ball soared over the net into the stands unable for him to maybe catch it. But without his catcher mask on, you’re rewarded a glimpse of his gorgeous face.

Frankie’s traditional catcher’s helmet keeps his hair flat, hidden, but it highlights his strong features, that beautiful nose of his and his perfectly classic scruffy Frankie beard.

Then seeing him covered in sweat, your mind can’t help but flash to images of him in bed sweaty, his face blissed out and panting. Your mouth waters just thinking about your tongue dragging across his sweaty neck and tasting the salt of him-

You immediately snap yourself of the too heated thoughts when the crowd yells upset at a bad call.

With a runner on base now and two outs, the tension piles on as dread trickles in.

Soon enough the cardinal’s batter makes a solid hit. The ball gets fired up high in the air.

Then center field rushes in and catches the ball.

Game over.

Dodgers win.

The stadium overflows with excited pride, and you happily embrace the atmosphere in all its warmth.

You don’t move from your spot, too hypnotized by Frankie who beams with the brightest smile while he celebrates with his new teammates.

You feel prouder than ever to wear his jersey.

The third baseman's wife, who you clicked with earlier, brightly tells you to follow her so she can show you to the locker room. You readily go.

Excitement electrifies every inch of the place. Even though you feel slightly awkward being here for the first time, no one seems to pay you attention.

Until you hear someone shout your name.

When you turn to spot Frankie, he's in gear looking intimidating and sexy wearing his chest guard and protective leg gear. Heading down from the dugout, your catcher rushes over to you. Like a magnet, almost like sensing a tug at your soul, you instantly move towards him.

Frankie collides into you solid, all encompassing as he gathers you into your arms squeezing you tight.

“You need to get out of your gear, Morales!” You laugh.

“It’s fine. Bebita, you’re gonna have to keep coming to the games now. I’ve told ya, you’re my good luck charm.” Frankie’s voice sounds like the bright sun from today’s game still shines brilliantly in it.

You hug him back, spilling nothing but praise.

“You were amazing! I’m so proud of you!” You gush.

You’re already thinking of how to celebrate.

“Marry me.” Frankie says simply that you think you maybe misheard him.

“Frankie honey, what?” Curiosity has you about pulling away from his grasp. Instead Frankie clutches onto you even more.

He says your name. “I…fuck I don’t have the ring with me here, and I know just sprang this up but-“

“You wanna marry me?” Your voice wavers, cutting him off.

You and him have talked about the future, a tentative slow swim treading the possible waters. Frankie’s mentioned buying an apartment together. He’s made the joke, lightly teasing, about you one day becoming a baseball wife.

You had held onto all these small edges of hope. It now all unfurls beautifully overwhelming.

“Yeah baby, but only if you’ll have me.” Frankie nods, his voice thick as he finally draws back out of your arms to get down on one knee.

You wonder if this is a dream you’ve slipped into.

Asking this still in uniform is so Frankie, and your eyes spill over with tears. You nod yes, and your favorite baseball catcher springs to life bolting up to kiss you.

You forgot you’re still in a very open and public setting until all the gasps and excited claps fill the space.

Taking it all in stride you warmly laugh it off letting Frankie hold you close to his side. His eyes even shimmer, precious earth stones.

The evening feels soaked in joy like a beautiful watercolor dream.

You urge your favorite baseball player to go eat dinner with his team, celebrate. But he leans down to whisper in your ear -

“I wanna eat my fiancée’s pussy for dinner.”

Your knees almost give out that second.

Frankie and you barely make it to his truck before he’s drawing you into the backseat, clawing at you, frantically. And you’re just as bad.

You want him inside you. But as promised, Frankie maneuvers you to sit up for him to crawl between your legs. The position is cramped, but you could care less.

Your sweet Frankie, who normally loves to take his time, tear you apart with the most focused and patient ease, now is replaced by a man wild who grips your thighs so tight and laps at your clit messy. You come ridiculously fast on his skilled fingers and feverish tongue feasting on you.

You whine unbearably needy for him, can't go on anymore without him inside of you.

Frankie shifts to sit on the back seat and keep you close while you slide on top of his cock. His stretch in you rips a fire up your spine and you moan as your eyes close.

“Mi amor, my future wife.” Frankie’s voice fills the heated sweaty space with a gilded reverence, and you scramble to kiss him.

Your future husband.

You were slightly worrie about Frankie being tried from his game, but the way he frantically fucks up into you reminds you of a man compeltely possessed. His hands grab you as if he’s worried you’ll float away.

“God, I fucking love you…gonna marry you,” Frankie mumbles, pussy drunk.

You feel just as drunk and reborn as he does, melting into this love.

Your climax knocks you breathless, a blazing star, and Frankie is not far behind.

You don’t move off him and with the way his arms tighten around you, he’s alright with you staying simply close to him as possible.

“You said you had a ring?” You ask tentatively, running your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah,” Frankie chuckles. “Bought it the day after you face timed me about that cute dog you saw at the store.”

That was a year ago. Your heart feels like it’s blooming a new world right in your chest, and you curl closer into him.

“Thought about proposing to you when I picked you up at the airport yesterday, but you were so tired baby.” He softly says, his hands a warm cocoon around you.

“And today…fuck seeing you cheering in the stands, hearing you. It just got me to more.”

Curiously, you ask what he means.

Frankie, confident as he is on the field, is still so shy, especially now as he burrows his face into your shoulder.

“I mean…I just want to see you at every game. Wanna come home to you. Then just thinking about that, and seeing you wearing my jersey, maybe having it as your last name-”

You rush to kiss him quickly, overtaken by so much adoration and love for this man. The thought had come once, or twice, about being a Morales yourself. You even tell him that.

“Yeah, you ready to be mine officially?” His voice drops low and silky.

You nod moving to kiss his cheek, then rest your face against his.

A soft moment passes while his warm hands rub against every inch of you he can reach.

“Know it’s still early to even talk about wedding shit or living arrangements, but just wanna take care of you, that’s all.” Frankie says firm. “I’ve joked about it but… you could quit your job tomorrow, move out here this weekend, and I’d be fucking over the moon. But I also want you to have your own path too.”

You think of Frankie, your stable ever loving and giving Francisco. His heart shines beautiful right here, right now. It’s like a live wire dances on your skin. Everything still feels intense. Maybe the sensation and rawness of becoming engaged has your mind feeling deliciously fuzzy.

“Just want you Frankie, that’s all.” You breathe those words letting them sink past your bones.

You softly kiss him, love sick syrupy drunk again.

It’s a promise to talk about this more later, about the possibility of living among the California weather with your future husband, it’s a dream you want to soak in.

But it summons up another dream, a sticky hot desire that crawls its way up.

“You remember that fantasy I told you about?” So dazed and in love, your thoughts slip out.

Frankie groans clutching onto you tighter.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” he sighs. “Trying to fuck me in my gear, before a game.”

“Yeah but that was before when I was just your girlfriend.” You coo already feeling your body slowly roll against him.

“As your wife maybe I could-”

Frankie swiftly cuts you off, kissing you so fast that it rattles your bones, and it’s beautiful.

You laugh feeling like maybe you’re the one who truly won tonight.

[r0tting-rat]

"Ohh Eurylochus shouldn't have done that" "Odysseus should have known better" "It's [Character] fault if..." WRONG! WRONG WRONG AND WRONG!! If any of you had taken the time to read one (1) greek myth you would have known already that, if we really want to trace back the problem to the source, the only ones at fault would be the gods!

It's always the gods' fault—or Fate's—you can't argue with this. The whole point of greek tragedies is that you cannot escape what's already been chosen for you, so no matter how smart you are you will ALWAYS end up where you were meant to be.

[louisupdates]

David Sneddon, co-writer of “Silver Tongues,” “She Is Beauty We Are World Class,” and “Saturdays,” talks about working on LT3 with Louis Tomlinson, in the podcast The Champ and Contender [4.2.2025]

Sneddon: When I first started working with Louis, you get an idea about those fans and it is Beatlemania; it’s insane, the level of dedication that those people have got, all five of those boys— four now, tragedy. It’s a real level of dedication to who they are. What’s funny then, is that beyond that, when you get to know somebody like Louis, particularly, who’s the one I know anyway, I don’t know about the other boys, but Louis. He’s been able to navigate that, the way that I respect— I admire so much, because I didn’t have half of what they had in terms of fame, and I couldn’t cope with it. Louis is just like… honestly, watching him, the way it just sort of bounces off him—

Interviewer: Keanu Reeves it—

Sneddon: It’s brilliant to watch. I do wish I could have been a little more like that but he just like takes it in his stride. Like some of the stuff… There’s a song on his last record— We’re in the middle of doing his new one.

We previously had noted some newly registered song titles with Sneddon and Theo Hutchcraft as co-writers (via @LaraMCCh)

[pushing500]

In the middle of the night, Mechi got a quest offer from The Empire. It seemed impractical at first. Babysitting even more paralysed people in our brand-new colony, alongside our paralysed phytokin recruit? What nonsense!

The rewards all seemed lackluster, too. Some silver, a crappy yaoi that doesn't hold a candle to anything Ivy already has in her collection... but what's this? Mention of Mechi's long-lost father???

It seems like Eustolia Berere has already given Mechi the greatest reward he could have asked for: confirmation that the family he thought was dead is, in fact, alive and searching for him! With the offer of having his father's opinion locked at 100, there was no way Mechi could turn down this quest.

It looks like our plans for a fancy throne room will have to wait. Sorry, boys. Family takes precedence.

I promise we'll build you a fancy vampire-esque deathrest chamber soon, Jut. You'll just have to make do with a sleeping bag on the floor for a little while longer. I'm so sorry, hon. You're doing so well.

First | Next | Previous

[bigfatbreak]

Hey I was wondering if you would do a post about how you make your feralnette au? I really like how you color it and was curious about your process.

Yes this is absolutely for plagiarism purposes /j

(I want to incorporate something similar on a smaller scale within my artwork, I don’t plan on posting anything but I can run the art past you if your worried about me actually stealing your style)

sure! as a note I'm not a pro or anything, this is just how I render my comic for ease of access

as a general note I draw everything in black and white first

I use a LOT of texture heavy brushes for effects, and specifically because I render with gradient maps a lot. people ask me why I do AU's in different styles - usually anything outside of feralnette is done in color - but that's because the rendering process is different.

for instance in the dad villain au, I do basic linework and chunky colors. if I was to do Feralnette in the same style, the gradient maps wouldn't nearly have the same effect, as you can see up there ^

when a gradient map is applied I can fiddle with the color values to set a Tone for the update I'm going for, while also making it really pretty, bc textures can really bloom the subtle colors in a gradient map. I get a lot from the CSP page itself, but I also MAKE a lot too. this specific map I made by color picking off of a neuron map from a brain scan I thought was pretty~

I don't do the feralnette AU in full color because generally, anything IN full color will have significance - either to show that a scene is important character development,

is a flash back,

or to put emphasis on something supernatural happening.

with Feralnette, when something is colored purposefully, its to emphasize it, whether that be to highlight character moments, or to stress that something eldritched and unnatural could be occurring, as its colors that do not exist in the pre-existing gradient map. Color out of space, yknow?

((SOMETIMES I put gradient maps on my colored chunky stuff, but once again, for the purpose of creating a tonal shift, like when papa Tom shows up in the dad villain AU!))

anyway I hope that helped!

[gender-trash]

as a kid i had a very particular media diet that caused me to seriously overestimate the likelihood that i would, as an adult, own a house containing a secret passage, but even at the time i had this vague sense that secret passages were too exciting to be that common, that adults were simply too boring to put them in---

and i mentioned this to my mom and she was like "oh, your grandparents' house has a secret passage in it, i'll show you next time we're there" very casually

you see, the second floor of my grandparents' house is basically two garret bedrooms and a large landing (which i believe was previously used as a sewing room, but when i was a kid it mostly contained bookshelves and random furniture). on the stairs side, the dead space between the bedroom wall and the outer wall, under the slope of the roof where there's not enough height to do anything else with it, is done as a random little storage cupboard. with a similar random little storage cupboard off the stairs on that same wall. what i didn't know was that the stairs cupboard and the bedroom cupboard are actually connected, so you could e.g. crawl into the stairs one and emerge from the bedroom one to scare the shit out of your little brother, if you were my mom.

and unfortunately this completely destroyed any intuition i had for the popularity of secret passages because apparently ANY house, no matter how seemingly boring, can have them! you never know!!!

[mod2amaryllis]

how it feels to get my child vaccinated

[diningwiththeasquiths]

Can't wait until the cast gets interviewed after season 3 airs and it's Assad and Eric's turn to tell everyone they gave each other hickeys

[codysdaily]

Happy One Year Champ <3