#its 3pm.

[scrollonso]

guys... im tired

[sicknastie]

I ODNT EVEN DRINK LOL WHY AM I DOING THIS

[valtsv]

love how every phone call with my dad is like negotiating a peace treaty between two warring nations

[lesbiannnsstuff]

i just know her strap game is WILD.

[snakeoid]

he will be executed soon / based off picture from twt

[eurydicees]

alex morgan #13 will always be the one to have mimed drinking from a tea cup after scoring a banger against the english national soccer team, and love her or hate her, playing or retired, they can never take that away

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

getting a ridiculously high fever = being forced into a state of hyperdependency on you would fix sunday

[aisling-saoirse]

The End of Fall, Allamuchy, NJ - October 26th 2024

[addaxbones]

In theaters (addaxbones youtube channels) near you this September 6th with this great Cast

[doodles-in-sand]

got too tired to finish the inmf/afterpain illust today so celebratory doodle for cat man that took me half (haha) a day to finish so its not really a doodle

[spooky-lestibournes]

Adolin Kholin 🤝Szeth-son-son-Vallano

Rosharan fashion icons

Best friends with talking swords

Murdered a member of the Alethi ruling class

Shorter than Kaladin

[apopcornkernel]

batman: track and field au

author's note: i just miss track and field varsity even though i wasnt even that good... and ive been thinking about batman track and field au for FOREVER. so today i wrote a bit 📝

things u need to know: bruce is not batman. he's a coach at a school where the rest of the justice league teaches. yes, they're still the justice league. and yes, his robins still end up as vigilantes. jason is 15 in this; the joker hasn't gotten to him yet. also i added some characters ahead of the timeline bc i love them :/

Jason stumbles over from the finish line, grinning and sweat-drenched. And then his face screws up in sudden distress, and he promptly wobbles and collapses onto the hot stadium mat.

A half-formed sound of alarm—

Bruce leaps over the bleacher railing and sprints.

A poor, well-meaning race official gets there first, but Bruce shoulders him roughly aside and crouches by Jason. Jason has turned on his side, holding his right knee tight to his chest and making little pained gasps.

It tears at his heart. “Jason,” Bruce says.

Jason’s eyes are screwed shut, and he says nothing, but one of his hands reach blindly in Bruce’s direction and Bruce grasps it tightly.

“You were terrific, chum.” He squeezes, and feels the tremor that goes through his son. “Stretch your leg out for me.”

Jason shakes his head. “Hurts—”

“I know. I know. Please, Jay.”

It’s slow, and excruciating, but between the two of them they manage to get Jason sitting up, his leg extended straight against the ground. One hand of Bruce’s presses down firmly on the knee, and the other pushes his foot to flex, the metal spikes of Jason’s shoes digging hard into the callused flesh of Bruce’s palm. Jason leans back on his hands, spread flat against the ground, head tilted up to open, cloudless sky, exhaling drawn-out, shaky breaths.

The speakers blare out the next events—second call for Male C’s 400-meter hurdles, and third call for Female B’s high jump. The left side of the crowd begins clapping on beat for their star javelin thrower as she rocks back on her feet, once, twice, and begins bounding forward. Bruce makes a displeased noise. He hopes his throwers remember to pay attention.

A mosquito buzzes by Bruce’s ear and he shakes his head sharply to drive it away. The sweat has been beading at his hairline all throughout, and now it rolls torturously slow down his face. As his hands are otherwise occupied, he makes no move to wipe it, and does his best to ignore the unpleasant sensation.

At last, Jason’s breathing evens out. He tugs his leg gingerly away from Bruce’s hold, cheeks flushed with exertion and, doubtless, embarrassment. “Thanks.”

Bruce sits back on his haunches and wipes the sweat off his face. “Ready to stand?”

Jason raises a hand, wincing as he tests the muscles of his leg. “One sec.”

Bruce nods shortly. Jason safe, his attention wanders over to the bleachers. Tim, thank God, is dragging Damian away from the high railing. Dick and Cass are eating lunch with much avidity—Dick’s best event, high jump, had just ended before Jason’s, and Cass seems to have just returned from shot put. Duke and Stephanie are nowhere in sight, and for a moment Bruce is alarmed, but then he spots them at the stage and relaxes. Duke must have won his high jump—he stands on the highest podium, and even from here Bruce can tell he’s grinning—and Stephanie is clicking away on the school camera next to the official photographer.

As he watches Stephanie turn the camera backward and attempt to take a selfie with Duke, there’s a tap on his thigh. Bruce extends his hand without looking and grasps the hand that interlocks with his, pulling Jason up with ease.

Bruce glances at Jason, and notes how he squints against the glaring afternoon. “Remember to reapply your sunscreen when you get back.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Not everyone is ghost-white like you.”

“You do not have to be ghost-white to get skin cancer.”

Jason grumbles, but when Bruce raises an imperious eyebrow at him, he raises his hands in surrender. “Fine. Whatever you say, boss.”

“Good. And, Jay...” Bruce reaches out, tentative, and puts a hand on his shoulder. “I meant it. You did terrific.”

Jason beams, bright enough to outshine the day, and something in Bruce’s chest uncurls into warmth.

[birbwell]

ten millionth haha what if my major was something else thought of the day

[omarcitoloves]

he turns (2)6 today 🥳

[3416]

she eclipsed!!! one of the weirdest experiences of my life tbh

[sewellove-deactivated9782]

european gp 2010