#iconic athlete

[skullislandproductions]

“Hare by Jordan” finished frame of extreme close-up of Bugs Bunny from tribute commercial celebrating the 30th anniversary of the Jordan shoe line, 2015.

[charybdisrevenge]

Gracyanne Barbosa

[hollywocd]

caitlin clark like/reblog 🌟

[booasaur]

2023 World Athletics Championships - Women’s 100 meter heat 5

[teaboot]

I just want you to know that I love reading your life stories and from the context clues on your posts this is what I imagine you look like because you're a 5'3" security guard.

ASFDGGGJHHJGGJGUJGUHFDFGFFFADFSDHHJK

[undermine-the-instinct]

Who is this Ken sato man and why do i want to give him a baby

[cantcatchmeee]

[afrotumble]

John Amos Dies at 84 Leaving a Legacy of Strength and Authentic Black Representation - The Michigan Chronicle

Amos was born on December 27, 1939, in Newark, New Jersey, to a father who worked as an auto mechanic. He graduated from Colorado State University with a degree in sociology and pursued a brief career in professional football before finding his calling in acting. Even before his television fame, Amos was no stranger to hard work. He was a social worker at the Vera Institute of Justice in New York, working with defendants at the Brooklyn House of Detention. His journey into acting began after a coach encouraged him to pursue his interest in writing, leading to a successful career in front of the camera.

[elryuse]

pls make a yandere rei fic, from a sports setting

Injured.

YANDERE REI X MALE READER

The ache in Rei's knee was a constant phantom throb, a cruel echo of the roar of the crowd that once cheered her name. Her once-pristine apartment mirrored the emptiness within her. Gone were the trophies, the motivational posters, replaced by a suffocating silence broken only by the relentless tick of the clock and the gnawing emptiness in her gut.

Her fall from grace had been swift and brutal. A misplaced landing, a sickening crack, and suddenly, the golden girl of Korean gymnastics was yesterday's news. The agency, once hovering like a pack of vultures, had become ghosts, their calls replaced by a chilling silence. Only Y/n, her ever-optimistic manager, remained a constant.

Y/n, with his perpetually rumpled suits and sunshine smile, was a lifeline in the storm. He brought her takeout on bad days, meticulously researched alternative therapies, and held onto the belief in her comeback with a fervor that mirrored her own, fading hope. He saw the fire in her eyes that others deemed extinguished, a flicker that warmed a tiny corner of her desolate heart.

But hope, like a fragile butterfly, was a delicate thing. The agency's silence spoke volumes. They were dangling her over another agency, a rising star named Minji. Beautiful, talented, and the daughter of a media mogul, Minji was everything Rei was not - a living, breathing embodiment of everything that had been stolen from her.

A cold dread coiled in Rei's stomach, a serpent awakening from a long slumber. The thought of losing Y/n, the only person who saw beyond the shattered athlete, was a terror that eclipsed the physical pain in her knee. The once fragile butterfly of hope morphed into a monstrous, possessive creature, its wings a chilling black.

The following days were a whirlwind of calculated actions fueled by a twisted cocktail of love, despair, and a chilling intelligence that had always lurked beneath Rei's dazzling smile. She delved into Minji's life, a spider meticulously weaving a web. Training schedules, social media habits, even the brand of protein bars Minji favored - everything became a weapon in Rei's warped arsenal.

One rainy night, the meticulously planned "accident" unfolded with horrifying efficiency. A strategically placed puddle, a shadowed figure, and a sickening crunch. Minji's scream, swallowed by the downpour, was a macabre symphony to Rei's twisted sense of justice.

With Minji sidelined, the agency, desperate to avoid a PR nightmare, revoked Y/n's transfer. Relief washed over him, tinged with a growing unease about Rei's sudden manic cheerfulness and the cloying sweetness of the lilies that now seemed to fill every corner of her apartment.

"Rei?" Y/n's voice was a tremor as he entered the apartment one evening. "Where have you been?"

She emerged from the shadows, a chilling smile playing on her lips. The once sterile apartment was now a shrine to her twisted love. Pictures of them, stolen from his social media, adorned the walls. News clippings about Minji's "accident" lay scattered on the coffee table, their bold headlines screaming of misfortune.

"Taking care of some… inconveniences," she purred, her voice a chilling caress. Her touch, once comforting, sent shivers of dread down his spine.

"You're mine now, Y/n," she whispered, her voice a terrifying melody. "We'll be happy together. Far, far away from everyone."

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes, but they were not tears of relief. He was trapped, a prisoner not of chains, but of a love as beautiful as it was terrifying. As Rei bundled him into a waiting car, the lilies seemed to mock him with their oppressive fragrance. He wasn't going to a happy ending, but to a gilded cage, ruled by a love as beautiful as a serpent and as deadly as a nightshade bloom.

Days turned into weeks, then months. The world outside faded away, replaced by the confines of a secluded cabin nestled deep in the woods. The initial terror Y/n felt slowly morphed into a suffocating routine. Every day was a carefully orchestrated performance - forced smiles, shared meals, and nights spent under the watchful gaze of Rei's increasingly erratic behavior.

The once vibrant fire in her eyes had morphed into something cold and calculating. Gone was the athlete, replaced by a woman consumed by a possessive love that bordered on obsession. She'd meticulously recreated Y/n's old life within the confines of the cabin - a gym stocked with outdated equipment, a makeshift therapy pool, even a shrine dedicated to her "comeback."

The charade, however, began to crumble. The equipment gathered dust, the therapy pool remained unused, and the "comeback" shrine became a constant reminder of the life stolen, not just from Rei, but from Y/n. The yearning for his old life, the connection to the world outside, gnawed at him like a starving beast. He started leaving coded messages in online forums for athletes, desperate pleas for help disguised as motivational quotes.

One day, while "training" on the rusty equipment, Y/n noticed a loose screw on the weight bench. A spark of defiance flickered in his eyes. It was a long shot, a gamble, but it was his only hope. He spent the next few days subtly manipulating the screw, hoping for a catastrophic failure.

His chance came during one of their "therapy sessions" in the pool. With a practiced smile, Y/n lifted some weights. The loose screw gave way, sending the bench crashing down. Pain erupted in his shoulder, a scream ripped from his throat. Rei, startled by the noise, rushed to his side.

"What happened?" she shrieked, fear momentarily extinguishing the cold glint in her eyes.

Y/n, clutching his injured shoulder, saw his opportunity. "Help… help me get my phone," he gasped, feigning unconsciousness.

Rei, momentarily blinded by panic, scrambled to grab his phone. It was on the coffee table, lying open on a familiar athlete forum. Her eyes widened in horror as she read the cryptic message Y/n had left earlier that day: "Sun sets at 7:30. Help needed. West cabin, Maple Ridge."

The panic in her eyes turned to a chilling fury. Y/n, his heart hammering in his chest, knew he'd made a fatal mistake. Rei's smile, returning this time with a monstrous edge, sent a shiver down his spine.

"Looks like we need a new routine, Y/n," she whispered, her voice laced with a dangerous sweetness. "One that doesn't involve disobedience."

As the sun dipped below the treeline, casting long shadows across the cabin, Y/n knew the nightmare was far from over. He had ignited a spark of defiance, but at what cost? He was trapped in a twisted love story, a prisoner in a gilded cage with a predator who now knew he was prey. The fight for his freedom, and perhaps his life, had just begun.

[blackmensuited]

[wisteriasymphony]

kagami with #53 Penny Lane for the color palette

KAGAMI MY SWEETIE PIE!

[charybdisrevenge]

Gracyanne Barbosa

[hollywocd]

charles leclerc like/reblog 🌟

[allpromarlo]

noah lyles gold in the 100m final that’s my boy

[vintage-tigre]

Marilyn Monroe, 1951

Photographed by David Cicero.

[soup-child]

Whenever I think of the s1 kids I always picture them wearing their soccer jerseys but with accessories to make them look different so in my version of the visuals of dndads during the s2 episode where they play soccer glenn probably looks alot like s1 nick