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mightyflamethrower · 2 months

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The president of Houghton University on Monday called for an end to biological males participating in female sports, saying it defies nature and blurs the fundamental distinction between the sexes.

Dr. Wayne D. Lewis Jr., the sixth president of the private university in upstate New York, detailed his defense of women’s collegiate athletics in a statement noting Houghton is a Christian liberal arts college before qualifying his stance as not a religious one.

Rather, it’s a moral position that it’s simply wrong to allow males to take over girls’ and women’s sports, just as other sports organizations have already made clear.

“Biological males’ participation in women’s athletics is wrong,” wrote Lewis, the first African-American president of the university.

“Most Americans and most of the world know it to be wrong. A fringe agenda under the guise of making school and collegiate athletics more inclusive for transgender people has grown to the place of now unfairly displacing gifted and hardworking female athletes, obliterating the historic achievements and records of female athletes of the past, and threatening to dismantle the opportunities and protections for girls and women in sport trailblazing leaders fought so hard to create and protect.”

“Too many leaders, parents, professional athletes, and people of goodwill have been silent as female athletes are humiliated, silenced, and robbed of hard-earned opportunities. That silence is complicit with the fringe agenda that threatens to dismantle girls’ and women’s athletics.”

To conclude his statement, Lewis looked for broader community support.

“Enough is enough,” he said. “I will not sit by silently as a university president whose female student-athletes step weekly onto tracks, courts, and fields to compete but, in some cases, are forced to do so on playing fields we know to be unfair. I hope you will join me.”

Lewis’s statement comes after the All-Atlantic Regional Championships in track and field, where transgender athlete Sadie Schreiner of Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT) won the women’s 200-meter dash, Fox News notes.

He adds his voice to an issue already dividing a host of sports around the world.

Last month officials of Nassau County, New York, also bucked the liberal establishment of the state after moving to place a ban on men competing as women in the sports facilities the county controls.

County Executive Bruce Blakeman says the ban is intended to protect the integrity of women’s sports, as Breitbart News reported.

“What we are saying here today with our executive order is that if a league or team identifies themselves or advertises themselves to be a girls or women’s league or team, then biological males should not be competing in those leagues,” Blakeman said.

As happy as I am to see this. It is already too little too late. These pretend women athletes have already set new records that will probably never be broken by a real women. Male Victories have been given where females should have earned them. These races can never be re-run.

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rekaning · 9 months

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The Housekeeper | Part 4 | Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Additional tags: Human!Mikaelsons, Modern!AU, Housekeeper!Reader, no use of Y/N Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, The Originals x Reader (Platonic) Summary: You get know the youngest Mikaelson a bit more and you learn something new about Elijah.

Previously: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

At the end of your shift at the estate that day, Henrik managed to pack away 4 full chicken breasts alongside a healthy serving of spaghetti. In all your years alive, you don't recall ever having heard a man moan at his food as frequently and vocally as Henrik did.

He had scarfed down his food like a man in the throes of starvation, slurping up his spaghetti so violently that it slung at his face from the speed, spreading tomato sauce all along his mouth and cheeks. His bites were wide and animalistic. But in contrast of the predatory way he was eating, his big blue eyes were shining in contentment, both at you and his brother as you sat around the kitchen island for dinner.

You could see Elijah dying on the inside in embarrassment at his youngest brother's poor display of manners. As you spoke in between each other, Elijah had finally had enough of Henrik's eating style, after the younger man sprayed a bit of food as he opened his mouth to respond to a question you posed.

"Henrik, for heaven's sake, show a little decorum and swallow before you speak. You are not some pre-historic, bumbling neanderthal."

Elijah's sharp glare cut off any words Henrik had been about to say. Instead, the younger man looked down sheepishly, chewing the food in his mouth before swallowing with a loud gulp.

"Sorry, 'Lijah." He said softly.

The older brother merely huffed, "And wipe your mouth, please."

You passed Henrik a napkin, and he quickly took it from your hand and wiped hurriedly around his mouth.

While he cleaned his face, Elijah turned to you, apologetic look written all over his face, "I do apologize for his behavior. It seems," he threw another glare at his brother, "that this boorish troglodyte has yet to fully grasp the concept of etiquette."

You tried your best to stifle the laugh that built up in your throat as you watched Henrik's face morph at the insult. His lips puckered into a pout and you couldn't deny that he looked like a scolded child at that moment.

"I am not a troglodyte." He muttered lowly, taking another bite—this time, much more appropriate—of his chicken parmesan.

Elijah turned to him, face unimpressed by his statement, "Well, you certainly act like one."

Before Henrik could respond and possibly throw them into a back-and-forth argument, you interrupted, "It's fine Elijah."

The two Mikaelson's whipped their heads to you, eyes warmly settled on Henrik, "It's very flattering that you're enjoying my cooking with such gusto."

Henrik grinned cheerily at Elijah, "See, she likes my gusto."

"But," you interjected, "You really should eat slower. You'll give yourself a stomach ache if you continue at that rate."

And with that said, Henrik ate at a more normal pace and covered his mouth with his hand if he began to speak.

The three of you talked into the beginning hours of night. Henrik had stated that he was off school for a week, so he had decided to surprise his older brother with a visit.

"If you don't mind my asking," you piped up, "What are you currently studying for?"

"I'm majoring in Kinesiology." Henrik responded brightly.

"Henrik got into university on an athletic scholarship," Elijah added proudly.

The younger Mikaelson nodded, "For sprinting, I run the 200 meter dash for my school."

You whistled lowly, "Wow, your whole family really has a bit of everything. Fashion," you began to list on your fingers, "history, education, charity, the arts, entrepreneurship, and now sports."

Henrik puffed up his chest at your words. Elijah chuckled, "Yes, the Mikaelson clan is certainly formidable."

You laughed in agreement. At that moment, your phone chimed from its place on the table. You picked it up and noted the text from a good friend along with the time.

"Oh my goodness, is it that late already?" You looked up a slight panic on your features, "I'm so sorry Elijah, I didn't mean to overstay my welcome!"

He quickly shook his head, "You've done nothing of the sort. It's quite late, though. And you didn't arrive in your car today."

You began to rise from your seat, "Yeah, I had to take it into the shop today to get maintenance done. It's okay, the buses should still be running.

"I can take you home." Elijah offered.

"That's sweet Elijah, but I don't wish to impose on your time with your brother."

Henrik looked back and forth at the verbal tennis match. Nik, Bekah, and Reya weren't lying about the chemistry between his older brother and you. He could see the slight panic behind his brother's eyes. He clearly didn't want you to leave but he was well aware of his place as your employer. Elijah would see it as an abuse of power if he pushed any further.

And you were clearly having a good time being here, though you stayed far longer after your shift had ended. He could see the reluctance on your face, not wanting to part from the joyous gathering. He had a sneaking suspicion that there was some reluctance to part with his dear older brother as well.

"Why don't you just stay over?"

Your heads whipped over to the young Mikaelson. He was leaning his head comfortably on his open palm, eyes innocently wide, like he hadn't asked whatvhe just did.

"What?" You both asked after a beat of silence.

He blinked twice before elaborating, "Well, there's no real point of her leaving?" His eyes zeroed in on you, "You get in early, right?"

You nodded, "Yeah, but—"

"And it's already past midnight," he interrupted, "So you'd just be coming back here within a few hours without any proper sleep."

Henrik was doing his best to not laugh at either of your faces. You were opening and closing your mouth trying to shoot down his logical assessment but only ended up looking like a gaping fish.

And Elijah's face was one of rising hopefulness. When he noticed Henrik's forming smirk, he quickly schooled his face and settled on a warm and inviting smile, "Excellent point, Henrik. Please, it would set my mind at ease and you'll be able to sleep in a while longer since you're already here."

You bit at your bottom lip. How could a man so handsome, look so positively adorable. The slightest pout on his lips was your undoing.

You sighed in defeat, "I guess it would be nice to get a few winks in. Okay, you win."

Henrik grinned widely at your acquiescence, Elijah's just a tad more subtle. The older of the two clapped his hands together and made his way toward the stairs, "Marvelous. I'll prepare your room," he turned back sharply to cut you off, "and before you say anything; your shift ended long ago. As of this moment, you are my guest, and you shall be treated as such. Now, if you'll excuse me."

You and Henrik watched silently as Elijah walked out.

"He really doesn't mind, you know." Henrik's soft tone had you turning to him.

He was seated still at the island, forearms resting on the obsidian marble. A gentle smile on his boyish face.

You bit at your lip again as you walked toward him, seating yourself beside him, "He's already so busy with work and everything else, I don't want to be another burden to him."

Henrik scoffed, "Trust me, we would know a burden when we see one."

That made you pause.

There was disdain and venom behind his words. Faint, but it was there.

The Mikaelson family was surely no stranger to the manipulations of others that wanted the glory that came with associating with the Mikaelson name.

"You're referring to someone specifically, aren't you?" You questioned gently.

Henrik's baby blue eyes shot a quick glance to where Elijah had disappeared to before drifting back to you.

"Elijah has always taken care of us." He started, picking at his fingernails as he continued, "He rarely has time for himself. Even though he's not the oldest of us, he's always taken it upon himself to look after the family."

He shifted in his seat, "So, the times he has...indulged himself in what he wants, he's ended up hurt."

You could feel your heart dropping down to your stomach. The implication of what Henrik was saying made you clench your fists but you asked anyway, "By a lover?"

The young man nodded, "Two, in fact. The first was the heiress of the Petrova family."

You vaguely recalled a newspaper headline regarding her, "Wasn't she convicted of murder?"

Henrik smiled wryly, "That's the one. Katerina was found to get rid of her rivals and several of her bank accounts were traced back to her making payments on the dark web, contracting hitmen to do her dirty work for her."

You covered your mouth in surprise, "Was Elijah on her hit-list?"

"No, it seems Katerina actually liked him, but Bekah and Nik had a bad feeling about her. Elijah becomes...blinded by affection for the women he falls for. So they snooped on her for a time without his knowledge. They found all kinds of horrible things she tried to bury. People she'd had 'taken care' of. A couple of whistleblowers at her own company that were silenced."

You gasped. You'd had no idea she was so horrible. "Did they tell Elijah?"

Henrik nodded solemnly. "He was devastated to say the least. More so he was disappointed in himself for not seeing the type of person she was. He cared for her a lot."

The two of you fell silent. You could only imagine that type of pain. For someone you shared a connection with to turn out to be someone so vile; it must have cut Elijah deeply.

"Was there..." you hesitated but your curiosity had been awakened, "Was there someone else?"

Henrik's eyes shot down to his lap, "There was one other."

You could see the trepidation in his eyes but he looked back up at you after a moment, his mouth poised to tell you when the deep baritone of Elijah's honeyed voice cut him off.

"Her name was Celeste."

Henrik's shot down to his hands in shame while yours flew to your suited employer, embarrassment preventing you from looking him in the eye.

He stood there, at the kitchen entryway. Since his departure to prepare your room, he had shed his jacket and was left with his now slightly worn light blue dress shirt. He'd folded the sleeves up to his elbows and under any other day, you'd be enjoying the sight of his exposed skin—like some depraved Edwardian gentleman—but his stoic expression had any devious thoughts at the back of your mind.

Elijah shot a pointed look to his little brother, and despite Henrik not looking at him, he could feel the stare thrown his way if how he seemed to shrink in more on himself said anything.

When he turned his gaze to you, the intensity in his eyes eased and his expression softened.

"Perhaps it's best to turn in for the night. Come, my dear," his deliciously deep voice commanded your attention. The term he'd said so casually caused an unexpected tingle to shoot down your spine.

His arm stretched out towards you, inviting you to place your hand in his.

Who were you to deny such an opportunity?

***

Part 5

Author's Note: Sorry this took quite a bit longer to put out, I hope you enjoyed reading this. Henrik was really fun to write. We never really got much sense of the person he was in TVD so I've based some of his personality and mannerisms on Barry Allen, from The Flash (which is why I face-claimed Grant Gustin as an older Henrik).

#elijah mikealson x reader #the originals x reader #alternate universe #human au #elijah mikaelson

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writingpiecesak · 1 month

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Hiii can you right a bakugo x severely injured reader

we dont get enough of these😓😓 IF YOU DO THANK YOUUU

Hiii , wasn’t sure how much severely injured or if blood was okay butttt yes! Love this idea!! ❤️

also it’s pretty lengthy lol i wasn’t sure when to stop 😅 also I had this song in mind while writing this.

It was supposed to be a simple evacuation mission. Simply guide the residents to safety and rescue any injured civilians then take them to the medical tents for treatment. You were assigned to Ground Group B, go through each alley way of apartments and help civilians out of harm's way. Your partner dashed off to help the others taking on Slade and his minions. You moved quickly and silently, you never knew who could be lurking about.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now, take my hand.” You extended your arm out to a terrified child, hiding behind the dumpsters covered in dirt. The air was filled with dust and rubble from the fallen buildings, the child looked to you, his hand trembling in fear. You waited patiently till his hand was fully in yours, and slowly you guided him out of his hiding spot.

“Alright, don’t let go okay? Stay with me, you’ll be okay.” You reassured him.

Your other hand stayed hovered above your thigh holster, securing a flare gun in case you needed aid to your position. You were holding his hand tightly as you walked through the streets desperately trying to find the route you knew that led to safety.

With the thickness of the dusty air clouding your vision, you decided to use your quirk to help light the way. Your quirk, Rays, is able to make waves of blinding lights enough to illuminate a dark forest and when concentrated enough can blind an enemy for a whole five minutes. But for now, you used only enough as a flashlight would.

“yo sunshine, what are your coordinates?”

His voice startled you for a moment, only a moment until annoyance took over.

“What did I say about calling me that?” You tap your ear piece that has a built-in mic that withstands over 200 meters and works connectively like Bluetooth.

“Tsk, you still respond to it. Where are you?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m here on the ground, trying to help this kid I found to a medic tent. He has some surface wounds.”

You glanced back at the young kid who naively sucked his thumb as a way to help make himself feel safe. You chuckled.

“Where's your partner? I thought there was a buddy system.”

“Oh you mean Aoyama? He took off, said he wanted to help you guys fight Slade. Didn’t really give me a choice, isn’t he there?” You whispered, peering around a corner of a building scoping out for any signs of threat.

“No…he isn’t, wait so you’re alone?”

You smiled softly, “Aww, are you worried about little ol’ me, Katsuki? Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.”

“I never doubted that Sunshine. Just don’t like the idea of you alone out there.”

A soft smile played on your lips, “You don’t like the idea of me period, Suki.” You said sarcastically.

“Tsk, never that Sunshine.”

This fun little banter you had going on with Katsuki actually helped ease your nerves a bit. You both had this secret push and pull game you two played together and it was really the best thing you could cling to at a time like this. You didn’t like the idea of being alone, especially with obscured vision and in the presence of a young civilian. You could light the entire block if you wanted but you didn’t want to give away your position to potential threats.

“Katsuki?” You questioned when static was playing through your ear piece.

“H-He’s –––stay–—move!”

You stopped in your tracks trying to make sense of those broken parts of his voice. Your breathing became more heavy and you quickly tugged the kid closer, lifting him to your arms basically carrying him as his legs instinctively wrapped around your waist.

“Is the bad guy here?” The young boy asked nervously.

“I’m not sure. We have to hide for now.” You started to run down the street in hopes of just finding the evacuation zone by luck.

“He’s gone! Slade left the field, stay where you are, don't move!”

You were listening to his words yet at the same time a figure in the distance was emerging. Your eyes squint trying to make out if this was a friend or foe. You stopped in your place and waited for some kind of signal, the figure was walking closer but something about them seemed injured almost as if they were limping.

Another civilian? You thought, slowly placing the child down slowly on his two feet. You started to approach the person but the young boy tugged on your hand, his eyes pleading you to stay. You crouched down to meet his eye level.

“I have to see if they need my help. They could be hurt.” You patted his head affectionately.

You took a deep breath and turned to the person, who stood there not making a sound nor were they walking towards you anymore. You proceeded with caution, shimmering light emerging from the palms of your hands.

“Are you okay, do you need some help?” You shouted, taking baby steps closer, your gut was fighting your steps telling you to turn back, to run, to hide, to blind this person before they could hurt you.

You should’ve trusted your gut.

Your eyes grew wider as you saw this person raise his arms, aiming for a sonic boom clap, but not at you. Your eyes traveled to where their hands were pointed and horror filled your veins. There was no injured civilian. This was Slade.

His sonic boom clap would send this kid to oblivion, killing him instantly. Your feet quickly took off heading back for the kid who stood there fidgeting with his fingers. Every step from your feet echoed in your head, and for a ration second, you threw your hand back and used Ray to its full extent, waves of blistering white hot light shot out from your hand instantly blinding Slade causing him to throw his aim off.

At the very last second, his hands clapped and his sonic boom trashed to the nearby building. Cracks spiderwebbed across the walls, and the ground trembled beneath their feet. The young kids' eyes were full of panic and tears. You were close, so close. Just enough to grab him but then debris rained down from above, shattering windows and blocking your only pathway to reach for him. With each passing moment, the building groaned under the strain, its supports buckling under the immense pressure. The building began to crumble. Floors pancaked on top of each other as the structure collapsed in on itself.

With the surge of desperation you reached out for the kid and in a blink of an eye, you pulled him out of his stand still panic state, and tossed him to the other side of the street, clearing him from the damage that’s now been done.

The kid cried out as he watched rocks of cement topple over you and bury you inside. Dust and smoke filled the air once again, the boy crawling over trying to remove any pieces of debris. He couldn’t leave you. Not after you saved him.

“Damn what was that!” Denki shouted, pointing towards the town where different groups of rescuers were dispatched. Their eyes watched as smoke rose from the unknown to them, a fallen building. Katsuki had a bad feeling, he turned away, turning his mic back on.

“Sunshine? Come in Sunshine?”

“Who’s Sunshine?” Ashido tuned in, “He means y/n, only he calls her that for whatever reason.” Denki reminded her.

“Shut up assfaces! Sunshine, come in, what was that explosion?”

His only response was static. He chewed his bottom lip and ripped off his ear piece in frustration. He took a glance at his group, fairly enough everyone was doing okay with minor injuries. His head was doing backflips and somersaults trying to think if you were okay.

“Sunsh–Y/n isn’t answering her coms.” He informed Izuku.

“Wait really? Maybe she’s with her group rounding up the civilians and heading to the hospital.”

“That’s shit, she would’ve answered me. I’m going to look for her.” He pushed aside Izuku.

“W-Wait Kachan you can’t go by yourself!”

“Try and stop me.” He sneered before taking off.

He blasted through the air heading towards the faded smoke cloud only to see that Izuku was right on his tail following him. He scoffed but didn’t reject any help.

His mind was racing with possibilities. Maybe you were farther than 200 meters. Maybe Izuku was right, you could be at the hospital right now tending to victims' needs. Or perhaps your ear piece fell out. Anything was better than what his mind was creating.

“Down there!” Izuku pointed.

Katsuki's eyes saw the fallen building and a small kid sitting against the rubble hugging his knees. The two landed right by and immediately went to the crying child. Izuku, handling kids better than Katsuki, took charge.

“Hey little guy, are you alright? What’s wrong, what happened here?” He helped dust him off and wipe away his tears.

“Bad guy..” He sniffled.

Meanwhile, Katsuki was looking around for any information or indication on your whereabouts. Checking the ground for a broken earpiece. He could ask for the story later but right now his only concern was you. There was no one in sight. His heart was falling to the pits of his stomach, his breathing becoming shallow at the narrowing of possibilities.

“A-And then, she sa-saved me.”

“Who kid?” Katsuki quickly pulled the kid towards him, also crouched down to his size. The young boy only lowered his head, tears flowing through as his small hand pointed to the pile of rubble besides them.

Both Izuku and Katsuki's eyes slowly looked over to what he had pointed at. Katsuki’s heart pounded in his chest as he frantically began sifting through the debris, his hands bloodied and trembling with each movement. Every fiber of his being was consumed by the desperate need to find you, his Sunshine. With each passing moment, his fear intensified, driving him to dig deeper, to search harder, refusing to accept the possibility of you being lost to him forever. Every tug on another rock, his eyes were filling, stinging of tears that threatened to fall. His sniffles reminded him what he could possibly lose. No more fun banter. No more Sunshine jokes. No more late night talks. No more pranks pulled. No more secret stargazing. No more teasing of his hair. No more beautiful smiles when you laughed. No more stolen glances. No more shy compliments that make you blush. No more. No more you.

And then, amidst the rubble, he saw you. You laid motionless, battered and broken, your body barely recognizable beneath the broken glass and concrete. Horror washed over him as he knelt beside you, his hands shaking as he gently cradled you in his arms. Tears welled in his eyes as he whispered your name, praying for a sign of life. But you remained still, your breathing shallow and faint. He brushed your hair to the side letting rugged sobs escape his lips.

Izuku immediately discharged his flare gun while talking to his teammates on their coms, informing them on the situation at hand. Katsuki holding you dearly, praying for a miracle, for you to open your eyes and just joke about how much you scared him.

“Please..please Sunshine..please open your eyes.” He begged.

“Katsuki maybe we should–” His eyes darted to the crying child.

“I’m not leaving her!” Katsuki screamed out, his voice hoarse.

Every fiber of his being ached with sorrow as he struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the tragedy that had befallen them. The weight of guilt and helplessness bore down on him, threatening to crush his spirit as he grappled with the realization that he had failed to protect the one person who meant everything to him. Tears blurred his vision as he knelt beside the pile of debris, his heart torn asunder by the devastating loss. In that moment, Katsuki felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness, as if the very essence of his being had been ripped away, leaving nothing but a hollow shell in its wake.

#boku no hero academia #mha x reader #mha katsuki #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #mha #if you didn’t get it by now he calls her sunshine cause of her quirk #I thought it was playful and cute

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dunwichdumbass · 29 days

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Today your miserly grandpa was admittedly somewhat befuddled by a strange and whimsical occurrence which took place on the oft-criticized - albeit oft-lauded by those of us foolish enough to frequent its hallowed halls - website of Tumblr.com. Logging on this dreary morning with all the aplomb of a great old shoggoth beset with tuberculosis, I found what else but that which appeared to be a small colorless and irregular oval with a greenish screen affixed to its surface, and, if you’ll excuse my disdain, the word “boop-o-meter” carved in bas-relief in a typeface much too small for even the most tenacious of readers to even dream of reading with any reliable clarity. Within that greenish, glowing screen which seemed to taunt me with all the patience of some great cat hiding under the cover of the jungle canopy, were titles which seemed to denote categories including “given”, “received”, and “global”, all of the values for which were notably zed. I must say I found all this rather perplexing, and I was too set in my ways - as you know - to give much thought to this new and strange development on my dash, and as such it was not until much later, and by much later I mean tonight when SH sent her first BOOP that I realized that this “boop-o-meter” was a means of cataloguing good natured and playful smacks reminiscent of the soft yet firm whacks that a creature of the felid variety might deliver to one of their own, or nay, to one of us! Indeed, since SH’s initial BOOP, I myself have sent a good 200 to Klarkash-Ton, Loveman, Barlow, and the rest of them. It has been a truly good day by all accounts, and I should hope that your boop day has been just as satisfactory.

Yours most sincerely,

HP Lovecraft

#hp lovecraft #lovecraft #sonia h davis #providence #rh barlow #Samuel Loveman #clark ashton smith #yeah I’m out here rping this bastard I’m fuckiny sorry it was fun and funny #sonia haft greene lovecraft davis #cthulhu mythos #cthulhu #voluminous podcast

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pinturas-gran-guerra-aire · 6 months

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1916 11 23 Achilles - Russell Smith

On 23 November 1916, while flying an DH2 Serial No. 5964 Lanoe Hawker left Bertangles Aerodrome at 1300 hours as part of ‘A’ Flight, led by Capt J. O. Andrews. Andrews led the flight in an attack on two German aircraft over Achiet, but spotting a larger flight of German aircraft above Andrews was chose to break off the attack. Hawker, however, continued to press the attack. Losing contact with the other DH-2’s, Hawker began a lengthy, circling dog-fight with the Albatros D.II flown by Leut. Manfred von Richthofen. Richthofen wrote of the dogfight in his autobiography, “Thus we both turned like madmen in circles, with engines running full-throttle at three-thousand-five-hundred meters height. First twenty times left, then thirty times right, each mindful of getting above and behind the other.” As is the nature of a dogfight, the circling combatants began to lose altitude as each tried to gain the advantage over the other. The playing field was almost evenly matched as Hawker flew the DH2 capable of turning tighter circles and Richthofen piloted the Albatros DII, which capable of faster airspeed. Hawker, however, had the dual disadvantage of being over German lines and a wind drift that would carry him even farther into enemy territory. Unable to get advantage over his opponent, Hawker broke away from the spiral and attempted a series of evasive acrobatics. Running out of both fuel and sky, Hawker finally had to make what was perhaps the only practical choice available to him - a low level dash back towards the Allied lines. Flying in a somewhat straight line only a few meters above the treetops, Richthofen, in the faster machine, now had the advantage. Hawker jinked his machine up and down and side to side in order to present a difficult target for Richthofen. 50 yards from the lines, however, a bullet from Richthofen’s guns struck Hawker in the head, killing him instantly. His plane spun from 1,000 feet and crashed 200 meters east of Luisenhof Farm, just south of Bapaume on the Flers Road. Lanoe Hawker went down in history as Richthofen’s 11th victim. Achilles is the right half of a dyptich which also features Hector. Achilles is symbolic of Richthofen - the seemingly unbeatable warrior who would defeat Hector but who would himself be brought down later by what amounted to a single chance shot. Here, Manfred von Richthofen eyes Lanoe Hawker from across a descending 75-yard circle. Neither man knows the identity of his opponent, nor are they aware that this one-on-one engagement will become one of the most legendary aerial duels of the First World War. This engagement would see the death of Lanoe Hawker and help to make Richthofen's name a household word on both sides of the lines.

#russell smith #manfred von richthofen

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theterribletenno · 2 months

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Max the Monster Truck Warframe

I knew damn well that Max was going to be an easy favorite. There is a noticeable overlap between Tumblr users who play Warframe and Tumblr users who had their sexual awakening watching Transformers. He’s a partial recycle of Tigre the Luchador warframe, since (at least to me) monster truck derby is basically truck wrestling. Right? Does that sound crazy? Monster truck and demolition derby are truck wrestling, right? Also out of curiosity I had to do some research to make sure monster trucks were a concept that would translate well. It seems like such an American thing, right? Without any surprise, monster trucks and monster truck sport originates in the midwest United States and has spread to Canada but only appears in most other parts of the world in traveling shows. Surprisingly it doesn’t have a permanent presence in Mexico. Anyways, enjoy your truck wrestler. MAX! MAX! MAX! MAX! MAX!

Health: 600 (800 at rank 30) Shields: 175 (225 at rank 30) Armor: 350 Energy: 175 (225 at rank 30) Sprint Speed: 0.9 (gains 0.06 sprint speed at every 5th rank reaching 1.26 at rank 30)

Passive: Being an all-terrain beast with superior traction, Max wall dashes 50% faster than ordinary warframes and gains +10% sprint speed for 6 seconds after wall dashing.

Ability 1: Dynamite Suplex, 25 energy. With a choreographed lunge Max grapples the enemy nearest his crosshairs up to 12 meters away and slams them backwards with a brutal suplex, and then recovers with a back-flip. After grappling the target it is slammed backwards, dealing 300+X (where X is equal to the grabbed enemy’s level times 5) blast damage to the grappled victim and half as much to all enemies caught in a 5 meter radius as a melee strike with a 2x critical damage multiplier, 5% critical chance, and 5% status chance. Dynamite Suplex can be recast within a 1 second window to perform a repeating combo chain with 200% damage, critical chance, and status chance, 150% blast radius, and 50% cost reduction for the second hit and 400% damage, critical chance, and status chance, 200% blast radius, and 75% cost reduction for the third and all subsequent hits in the chain. Damage is affected by Ability Strength, the Melee Combo Counter and most mods and arcanes.

Ability 2: Nitro Piledriver, 50 energy. Max grabs the enemy nearest his crosshairs up to 12 meters away and swings them around, dealing 500 blast damage with 50% status chance to the grabbed enemy and half as much to every enemy within a 7.5 meter radius and then pounds the grabbed victim into the ground with a jumping slam dealing an additional 500 blast damage with 100% status chance to the grabbed enemy and half as much to all enemies in a 15 meter radius. Status chance for Nitro Piledriver scales with ability strength. For every enemy hit by Nitro Piledriver‘s final blast Max restores 25 points of shields. If Max’s shields are full this effect will grant overshields.

Ability 3: Satanic Afterburner, 75 energy. Injecting his core with volatile compounds makes Max’s explosive abilities combust even more violently! Even allies may reap the benefits of this surge in power! For the next 10 seconds Max’s abilities gain bonus heat damage equal to half of the blast damage dealt. This bonus heat damage is dealt as a separate damage instance with its own crit and status where applicable. Additionally while Satanic Afterburner is active kills with weapons have 15% increased chance to drop energy orbs and kills with abilities have 30% increased chance to drop health orbs for both Max and all allies within 45 meters. Bonus orb drop chance scales with ability strength.

Ability 4: Apocalyptic Overdrive, 100 energy. With a mighty leap Max falls like a meteorite onto the battlefield, leaving a crater where he lands. Tap to immediately leap to the location targeted by Max’s aiming reticle or hold to show impact location and highlight the area of the impact crater. Upon landing Max deals 1,000 blast damage in a 20 meter radius and leaves behind a marked area of cracked terrain with the same radius. Apocalyptic Overdrive can be reactivated within a 1 second window of landing to perform a repeating combo with the second cast costing 50% and the third & all subsequent casts costing 25% of the original energy cost. After the 1 second combo window expires he will punch the cracked ground beneath him a total of six times, causing all impact craters created in the chain to burst dealing 250 blast damage with every punch. If Max moves or is moved from his impact point before the combo window expires he will not execute the final punch combo. Each instance of damage caused by Apocalyptic Overdrive has a 25% status chance which scales with ability strength.

Subsumed ability: Dynamite Suplex

Siganture weapon: Gravedigger. A primitive assault saw, the thick and jagged blade of the Gravedigger makes it just as good at excavating earth and stone as it is at turning Grineer soldiers and Corpus proxies into chunky salsa! Slightly slower attack speed but generous per-hit damage. Deals roughly even values of impact, puncture, and slash damage with high critical chance and above average critical multiplier at the cost of low status chance. As Max’s signature weapon the Gravedigger gains +15% attack speed in his hands which increases to +25% when Satanic Afterburner is active.

Signature companion: Balkrishna. Max’s original sentinel companion the Balkrishna is a little robot with a big personality! Boxy construction makes Balkrishna recognizable at a glance and with unusually thick armor for a sentinel he makes a steadfast helper in any battle situation. The Balkrishna’s unique precepts are Bulldozer and Pit Stop. Bulldozer is a special attack in which the sentinel charges forwards, ragdolling and dealing 250 impact damage to all enemies in a 2 meter wide, 20 meter long line once every ten seconds. Pit Stop will instantly restore 5% of Balkrishna or the player’s max health, prioritizing whichever one is currently lower with a 30 second cooldown, and grant 10% bonus armor for the next 10 seconds. Balkrishna includes the unique companion glaive weapon Derby which can only be wielded by Balkrishna similar to Helios’s Deconstructor. Derby has less damage but higher attack speed, crit, and status when compared to Helios’s Deconstructor. Unlike Deconstructor Derby deals even values of impact, puncture, and slash with every hit. As Max’s signature companion Balkrishna’s unique precepts have their cooldowns reduced by 10% while the two are used in tandem.

Closing notes: Max’s signature weapon Gravedigger is named after the most popular monster truck, and the Balkrishna sentinel is named after Balkrishna Industries Limited, also known as BKT, the manufacturer of all tires used in Monster Jam. I had Max finished for like two whole days and then changed my mind and reworked his first two abilities because they were too similar.

#warframe #fan made #original character

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tredawakandan · 2 years

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I feel a couple of the guys above will be responsible for breaking Usain Bolt's world records. This would be the 100m,200m, and the 4x100m ..

Noah Lyles and Erriyon Knighton are basically on track to possibly dethrone the 🐐Usain Bolt. Erriyon more specifically is only 18 and has already broken Usain Bolt high school record. Lyles has been averaging an undefeated 200m record this season all under 20 seconds💪

Fred Kerley a former 400m runner has captured gold in the 100m recently. Despite him being injured I feel he could definitely help break the 4x100m(which he missed due to injury) record but potentially break the 100m as well. Best of luck to all guys and success in their career👌

#black history #track & field #track and field #100 meter dash #200 meter dash #4x100 meter dash #noah lyles #Erriyon Knighton #fred Kerley #usain bolt #sports #professional sports

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rastro-writes · 3 months

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What if;

What if sky was not the sleepy boi. Oh he loves to sleep in, absolutely, and during his adventure he absolutely took power naps. He had to. He was operating for days on maybe three hours of sleep.

But since then? He sleeps in, but that’s about it. He doesn’t take regular naps. His stamina is still not great, and his lungs hate the surface, but the longer he spends there the better it gets. Although if he spends even half a day in Skyloft then his lungs hate him again, but sometimes he just wants to spend time with his Loftwing.

And the early bedtime is entirely so he can cuddle with Wind, who is the only one that really enjoys it. The others like being able to get up in the morning, and Sky is clingy, and strong. Boi couldn’t run a 200 meter dash, but his sleepy cuddles are an iron grip.

He thought he dreamed the part about a curse, being honest. Another part of the fever dream and endless swinging that was that last battle. He had been working on a Power Nap, and was more adrenaline and reflex than conscious movement. Now that he knows it was real he feels guilty. He doesn’t let himself think about it too much. But he was always too late. Why wouldn’t he be late one last time?

He just wants to go home, back to Zelda, but he has to fight. At least he has friends to fight with, this time. He has Fi, quiet as she is now, and seven people who share a part of his soul fighting alongside him. He can do this.

#forged connections #fc sky #what if #done by request #I’m doing all these boys #not lu

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cartermagazine · 2 years

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Today In History On October 16, 1968, African American Olympic sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos, who engaged in a silent protest on the medal stand to bring light to the racial discrimination and violence against African Americans in the U.S., were met with hostility by white supporters and the media, and were eventually suspended for their protest. The 1968 Olympics followed a summer of racial unrest and protest following the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in April. Mr. Smith and Mr. Carlos placed first and third in the 200-meter dash at the Olympic Games in Mexico City. As the U.S. national anthem played during the medal ceremony, the two men bowed their heads and raised black gloved fists in a protest against racial discrimination in the U.S. Both men wore black socks with no shoes, and Mr. Smith also wore a black scarf around his neck. Mr. Smith raised his right fist to represent Black power, while Mr. Carlos raised his left fist to represent Black unity. Also, in support was the silver medalist Peter Norman from Australia who wore a badge that read: “Olympic Project for Human Rights” – an organization set up a year previously who oppose racism in sport. The following day, the U.S. Olympic Committee threatened other athletes with stern disciplinary action if they engaged in demonstrations. Acting USOC Director Everett Barnes issued a formal statement to the Olympic International Committee, condemning Mr. Smith and Mr. Carlos, and claiming that the sprinters “made our country look like the devil.” The USOC suspended Mr. Smith and Mr. Carlos from the U.S. Olympic team following a midnight meeting. In the early hours of the morning on October 18, the Committee ordered both men to vacate the Olympic village in Mexico within 48 hours. Despite their medal-winning performances, the two athletes faced intense criticism in the media and received death threats upon returning home. CARTER™️ Magazine carter-mag.com#wherehistoryandhiphopmeet #historyandhiphop365 #carter #cartermagazine #tommiesmith #johncarlos #peternorman #blackhistorymonth #blackhistory #history #staywoke #1968olympics #1968 #drmartinlutherkingjr #mlk https://www.instagram.com/p/CjxbiwvuC15/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#wherehistoryandhiphopmeet #historyandhiphop365 #carter #cartermagazine #tommiesmith #johncarlos #peternorman #blackhistorymonth #blackhistory #history #staywoke #1968olympics #1968 #drmartinlutherkingjr #mlk

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valkyries-things · 3 months

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AUDREY PATTERSON // OLYMPIC RUNNER

“She was the first African-American woman to win an Olympic medal, winning a bronze medal in the 200-meter dash at the 1948 Olympic Games in London. In 1965, she founded Mickey’s Missiles, a track club for girls 6 to 18 with boys joining the group several years later, producing Jackie Thompson, who competed in the 200-meter race in 1972, and Dennis Mitchell, who ran in the 100-meter dash in 1988, 1992 and 1996. She managed the US women’s track team that toured the Soviet Union and Germany in 1969.”

#female history #black history

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askadrianalucardtepes · 1 year

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Alucard! I won a track meet today, I was 1st place in the 200 meter dash and the 100 meter dash, I personally enjoy running, what do you do sporty wise (that you enjoy?)

"Congratulations, that's incredible! Well-done! As for sports I enjoy, I do quite enjoy sparring a lot. Taking @lastofthebelmontsrp out to the field to practice punches and kicks with is very relaxing and enjoyable to me. It's great fun to practice combat skills with your best friend, I'd highly recommend it! I haven't played any other kinds of sports or anything, however. Maybe I should give them a try... Would you recommend any sports to me?"

#ask alucard #castlevania alucard #alucard #castlevania rp #adrian fahrenheit tepes #askadrianfahrenheittepes #ask blog #alucard castlevania #castlevania askblog #castlevania netflix #castlevania

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cheshire-shuntaro · 8 months

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For the Drug Cartel AU, a continuation of this here. Chishiya, realizing that everything that the cartel built in Mar de Plata is crumbling right before his eyes goes to the one person who might know how to help. @thetiredassistant

Silence, then, ringing in his ears. Heartbeat thudding against his thumbs tightly wrapped around the leather texture of the steering wheel. It took him a second to realize that he was having a panic attack. He was sixteen again, dashing through the narrow, neon-illuminated back alleys of Tokyo with 10 kilos of cocaine stuffed in his backpack. Soma right beside him, with a similar wild look to his eyes and a similar burden to carry, strapped to his back. Shouts of their pursuers chasing ferociously not unlike rabid dogs, their voices bouncing off of the concrete walls. Heart begging to jump out of his chest, and in his ears — ringing. Just a-

Suddenly — loud, prolonged honk. Chishiya's eyes snapped open, the ringing ceased, pulse slowly dropping. The crimson red light turned bleak green some time ago and the person behind Shuntaro decided they were done waiting. Chishiya indicated turning left and pushed the gas pedal, glancing in the rear view mirror. White Volvo sedan. Fuck. Already? Has he not received their message? But they might not be the ones who left it. How many parties are tangled up in this mess? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Enough. The engine of his Corvette growled and screamed when he revved up and switched to 5th gear. 90. 120. 146. As soon as the driver of the Volvo caught on what was happening it turned out, that whatever was under the hood of this inconspicuously looking sedan had enough power to keep tailing Chishiya. The downtown of Mar de Plata flashed in the windows as if it was the last memory of a man taking his final breath, and perhaps it was. Shuntaro swooshed past cars waiting at the stop sign with a cascade of honks and passeby shouts. Av. Juan B. Justo was the longest street in the whole of Mar de Plata, soon, the towering skyscrapers scattered across the horizon changed into suburban homes with their tiled red roofs and local farm animals using the road as they pleased.

His jaw hurt from clenching, his knuckles white, beads of sweat running down the side of his forehead. 146. 170. 200. Is it still there? Quick glance towards the rear view mirror. About a meter behind his Corvette? White Volvo.

Enough. Unimaginable screeching as his foot slammed the break pedal and the sports car swayed towards left. Blink, rear view mirror. He watched the driver of the Volvo desperately trying to save his skin, black plume of smoke coming out from the front tires. Front wheel drive, as he predicted. The sedan started spinning around its own axis accompanied by desperate revvs of its engine, breaking through a fence and finally, when there was no more free space to spin, crushing with a loud, dull thud into awhite building.

El Corazòn a Dios, Los Manos el Trabajo — written on the side of the building in curvy elegant letters above the remains of the white sedan.

Complete stop, reverse, turning the steering wheel, 1st gear. The Volvo? Squashed as if hand of God himself was behind it. Car alarm and people shouting, a tired looking middle-aged man locking eyes with Shuntaro as he sped past the scene, heading straight back into the city, to find someone who could perhaps help him. For a price.

* * *

🎶Quiero verla en el show, es como un gato siamés🎶

Chishiya's fingers were very idly tapping to the rhythm of the rock song, his eyes peeled on the road ahead, mind calm enough to put the puzzle pieces together — and there were not many of those. He had the board before his eyes, the plague of insanity hanging above the black king. How many pieces out of the 32 were still there? How many moves until the checkmate? How many boards and players were there? Ringing in his ears, hand wrapping around the steering wheel to the point of his knuckles becoming white. Chishiya took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling as he made a right turn. He remembered his wedding day, she refused to wear a dress, he refused to wear a suit, the scent of black elder reaching his nostrills, her favourite flowers. Ringing ceased. Since Aguni's departure from Hatter, Chishiya took over some of his duties, torn between the flying machines and the fumes of the cocaine lab. He spent the last four years huddled in first-class flights between various cities of Southern American countries, ensuring that Hatter's cocaine empire does not rip at its seams. But, as always, everything has its price, and this time it was Chishiya's knowledge pertaining to Hatter's closest circle and matters within it.

🎶Si todo me sale bien...🎶

He absolutely despised not knowing, the uncertainity of having to deal with situations foreign to him. Although the case usually was that he had time to observe quietly from the shadows, gathering information so that to tweak the events in his favour. This time he had no opportunity to do so, he was thrown right into the chain of events that seemed enitrely too far gone to even attempt anything to prevent the chain from loosing its last link.

🎶...lo haré de nuevo, otra vez.🎶

El Lugar Secreto, said the inconspicuous wooden sign, bleached by the everpresent Sun and dryness. A quiet bookstore, like many others in the city but this one held El Sabeltodo's place of employement, or rather, self-employement. Chishiya parked his Corvette in a secluded alley behind the building and put a black tarp over it — a curteousy of El Sabeltodo's. VIP treatment, scoffed Chishiya mentally.

The deep-green shades in the windows were pulled down, giving a passerby an impression that perhaps the store was closed down, but Chishiya has been here enough times to know that this is simply how El Sabletodo prefers his shop to be. He opened the door and an old-timey chimey reached his ears. A welcome coolness caressing his skin. All of the 4 walls of the homely inside were lined with bookcases, nearby stood a sturdy wooden ladder with wheels leaned over one of the taller bookcases. Chishiya strutted towards the wooden counter, running his pointer finger over one of the nearby books neatly lined up on a low cupboard of sorts. He looked at his hand and rubbed his pointer and thumb together — no trace of dust. Disappointing. He anticipated the day he will pay El Sabletodo a visit and finds the place in a slight dissaray, alas, it was not today. He leaned on the counter and chimed the bell as the owner of the establishment was nowhere to be seen.

A radio playing in the background picqued his interest, the jazzy music suddenly stopping and an urgent electronic jingle coming in its place "...Noticia de hoy - fatal accidente automovilístico en la Av. Juan B. Justo. La policía sospecha que esto es el resultado de una carrera callejera ilegal."

Fuck.

#aib drug cartel au #aib rp #cheshire shuntaro #thetiredassistant

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