#comitted

[tripeakathlete]

Week of Dec 25 - January 1, 2024

Dear Central Florida Tri Club Members, I hope this email finds you all in good health and high spirits. As the coach of our incredible club, I wanted to take a moment to express my utmost pride in each and every one of you. Your hard work, dedication, and unwavering commitment to your training have not gone unnoticed. As we approach the end of 2023 and begin building our schedules for the…

[floweypilled]

beach episode

[evgar]

save me hot butches

[idknwhatputhere]

He knows exactly the woman he love

[dear-ao3]

if the omegaverse was real do you think there would be discourse about omegas leaking in the car during races

this is by far the worst ask i have ever received

[bruciemilf]

Need a no capes! AU where Clark is Just A Guy trying to help his folks keep their farm going. It’s not easy under the Luthors.

Having to sell their property rights because their farm is on a purchased land wasn’t an easy choice. But if Clark knows something, is that Kents don’t go down easy.

Once Thomas Wayne buys it from Luthor Senior, — Clark doesn’t know the specifics; He just heard the words “old college teammate” and “lost bet” and “fuck you, John” and put it together.

So, Thomas Wayne buys their farm. They have peace, for a while.

Except one day the man himself knocks on Clark’s apartment, switchblade smile bright and fraudulent. Clark quickly learns Thomas Wayne can either be your best friend, or your biggest fear.

“It’s really nothin’ personal,” Thomas shrugs. Maybe, to him, it’s a good apology. “Luthor just found out some…Nasty lies about me. And it’d really affect the cancer research fundraiser if they got out. “

People don’t fear lies, Clark thinks.

“So, your daddy ain’t answering me, and your mom threw a bottle at me when I went over there, so I figured you’re my last resort. I can’t buy if they ain’t sellin’, son.”

“We don’t appreciate being bought, Mr. Wayne.”

“Right, but the other alternative would be kicking ya’ll out on the street, and it’d make me feel like a real asshole,”

You already are, Clark wants to say, but decides it wouldn’t be a good idea.

“ So we have two options: Either you sell me the farm and everyone’s happy; Or you get the best bed at Gotham’s homeless shelter. I’m sorry, Clark. Really.”

He swallows an angry gulp. World’s strongest man and he can’t help but feel such sorrowful helplessness. “And what’s option 3?”

Thomas knows that’s a challenge, and knows Clark has a right to it. Something just clicks in the man’s eyes, thought. Clark isn’t sure he likes it. “Option number three…I deal with this my way. But you gotta do something for me.”

And that’s how Clark ends up babysitting infamously anonymous Bruce Wayne.

No paper touches him; He successfully evaded and escaped any journalist that ever approached, hunted, or tracked him down.

The man is awfully quiet, lilly pale skin glowing pink in Kansas sun. Clark studies the wide, impressive curve of his shoulders, surprisingly thick and strong for such a pretty thing.

The way his eyes are alert and focused and the color of watercolor rain. Mostly, he’s crushed by Bruce’s timidity. God, he’s so beautiful.

“Imma need a week and Brucie’s outta your hands faster than a devil in a church,” Thomas jokes, affectionately ruffling chestnut hair. Clark can see the resemblance, but not the relation. “You be good for Clark, ya hear?”

Bruce doesn’t give a verbal or physical answer. He seems awfully angry about something. He picks up his bags, storms past Clark and stomps off upstairs. He has a feeling this week will be hell for all of them.

“Well, you have fun! And Clark?” Thomas’ voice lowers, “You take care of my boy, now.”

“Oh, I will.”

It’s not a lie.

He’ll take care of Bruce so good he won’t ever want to leave.

[armyofpsychictrashcans]

Something I love about Agatha all along is that she's lowkey giving old woman with dementia (keeps zoning out, appearing confused, acts without thinking) and teen just looks at her like yeah this is my idol whos also 378.

[jpdrawsalot]

Zane's most favored and devoted Juror

[raviollies]

i give up on this

[dianagj-art]

BETRAYAL!

In my head this is how the two managged to land on 3rd place lmao (One is surprised but not dissapointed)

There's so many branches to this poll now that I didn't know where to add this on so this gets its own post, pls make yourself a favor and check all the reblogs of that poll, there's so much good art and very funny tags from everyone

Bonus with the bestie:

LM leo @daedelweiss

RR leo @red-rover-au

[nuggetpool-hi]

Lil idea I had hi

[leo-artista]

There are some things I've been thinking about in regards to Stan and Ford and their relationship with guilt that I don't really know how to express so I'm just gonna ramble about it here bc I need to get this out of my head somehow

Okay, so, Stan's one defining trait is that he feels guilty All The Time about a lot of stuff, and it's kinda what motivates most of his actions. The whole reason he spent 30 years working on the portal is because he felt guilty about accidentaly shoving Ford into it, and you could even argue that it's what leads him to sacrifice himself in the finale (which is actually very depressing if you think about it for too long)

Meanwhile Ford is... a bit more complicated. He does feel guilty, especially about being the reason the portal was made. But I think he also tries to shove guilt and other feelings aside in pursuit of what he thinks is more important- achieving his goals, studying anomalies, stopping Bill, etc, and therefore he doesn't really leave a lot of space to actually feel or process it, and I think it's the reason he can come across as egotistical and uncaring a lot of times

So because of this, I like to think that after weirdmageddon happens and they reconcile, there's a bit of a role reversal between them- Stanley's more at peace with his mistakes now that he's been forgiven, and he's not feeling as much self-guilt as he did before (although it still hasn't gone away completely), but now the one who's forced to come to terms with his guilt for his actions that directly or indirectly hurt other people is Ford since he didn't do that before, because he was more focused on other things and wasn't very self aware. And maybe he struggles with it, trying to make up for not being the best brother/friend he could have been to the people he cares about, thinking of how many chances he had to change and be better but chose not to because he was too self centered- and I think if it came to that, it would be Stanley who would help keep him grounded and prevent his self-blaming from spiraling out of control, because he knows better than anyone the kind of road that line of thinking leads to

Idk man I just like imagining how they would cope with shit like that- Ford making an effort to be more sensible and empathetic to other people's feelings and trying harder to show how much he cares, Stanley learning to not beat himself for his own mistakes after seeing his brother do the same thing and helping Ford understand that not everything was his fault and that circumstances also played a part in how everything turned out- idk I just feel like it would be something interesting to explore

[theundeadnightmare]

has anyone else realized the fact that ice emperor zane committed like genocide?? like he committed MULTIPLE implied atrocities and war crimes and like mass murder but because ninjago is intended for children under the age of like 12 no ones really processed it and it got like brushed over. DOES ZANE HAVE THE HIGHEST NINJAGO KILL COUNT????

[bobbinalong]

kent family adventures soon #trustme

[evgar]

more gunslinger abigail my beloved 🫶

+ sadigail crumbs ofc (u guys why haven't i seen any drawings of abi braiding sadie's hair 😠)

[inbabylontheywept]

Want Better Things

“You thought that was a bioweapon?” 

The translator broke down for a second as the creature did a sort of broken exhale. Connotations were all that came through. Vague implications. Pity, the software flashed. Disgust. Anger.

A pause as it decided.  

Sadism. 

Valta was already backing away. The final decision didn’t change his behavior, it just made the hall feel far, far too short. 

“I didn’t order it deployed. I didn’t make it.” 

The thing was staring at him, and he couldn’t look away. The two eyes moved in such perfect tandem that he didn’t think it was conscious. It only had binocular vision because it only needed binocular vision. Always the predator, never the prey. 

And now it was moving in on him. 

“Oh, but what if you had? Then I could tell you all the things that were wrong with it.” 

One of its hands - a sprawling, five fingered  spindly thing - traced carelessly along the station's walls. 

“No incubation period. Symptoms arrive within 40 minutes of exposure. No time to spread undetected. Minimum should be one week. Embarrassingly low.” 

The pressure the thing was putting on the wall increased, the gentle glide turning into a buzzing scratch. Humans were strong, but not strong enough to cut through metal like this. The suit had to be powered and clawed. 

“Spread through contact. Limited waterborne. No airborne. Intended mechanism of infection is viral load being put on hands from scratching, and then passed into the environment. Pathetically inefficient.” 

The translator was working, but the thing was overeunounciating each word. The meaning was being passed along by a clean, helpful voice in his suit, even as the sound was being passed on through the environmental speakers. And the sound was dreadful - clicks of ceramized bone jarring against each other, wet muscles modulating air into something sharp and rasping. 

“Mechanism of death? Lysis overload. Could be dangerous if it was transmitted into the lungs, but since the initial load tends to be dermal all we wind up with-”

It took its helmet off. 

It took its helmet off. 

It took its helmet off it took its helmet off it took its helmet off in a biozone it - 

It looked a little pink, actually. A little scratchy. It lifted a delicate, taloned hand and rubbed its face against it for a moment before finishing. 

“-is a rash.”

Valta’s prey drive had glued him to the spot. It was too close. The stupid, stupid part of his brain that still thought he was grazing on Duranga hoped that if he stood still long enough, it might not notice him. 

The human paused a moment before continuing. 

“Do you know why they sent me? Alphonse Ericsen, PhD, MD, civilian doctor, here to speak with you?”

Valta’s snout twitched. The suit translated the gesture for him. 

“No.” 

“Because one of our grunts is a dumb fuck,” the human said simply. “And he spent two days fighting on your station with his helmet off. He got infected that way and brought back your stupid, itchy plague to our carrier ship, and now we’ve all spent the last 8 hours scratching ourselves raw. But the jokes on you, because when we were treating that guy you know what we found? That he was in the asymptomatic phase of a COVID infection. So if this-”

It gestured to its pink face with a snarl. 

“-is your idea of a bioweapon, then COVID is going to be your apocalypse. But if you work with me, and shut everything the fuck down for the next three or four months, I might be able to save most of you.” 

Valta unstuck at that. He’d spent weeks down here, worrying about nothing more than the next skirmish. Now he was looking at a genuine existential threat. 

“...What? Why would you help us? We wanted you to die. All of you. I wanted-”

The human cut him off with an exasperated wave of his hand. 

“You wanted something stupid. Doesn’t mean I have to join you. Best I can do to fix you is keep you alive and hope that you feel ashamed later. That, I genuinely look forward to. Now come on, you’re going to be the one explaining to all your friends what’s at stake here. My bedside manner is so bad that they limited my patients to virology slides and USMC marines. I think that’s actually one rung below the guys that just dissect cadavers.” 

Valta would’ve made an amused hum at that, but something already felt scratchy inside his throat.