best-runs

anonymous asked:

food for thoughts: it is pretty unlikely Honerva was the only one who was researching the comet crash site on Daibazaal but Coran did not mention anyone else, just her. Is he an unreliable narrator? Did something happen to those researchers ? Or do you believe she WAS the only one at the site?

We do see other researchers, but I suspect the focus on Honerva was that she was chosen to head the project. After all, to understand some completely unknown hole in reality, you’d want the “Best alchemist on Altea” running the show and calling the shots, right? Especially with how all of the other researchers appear to be galra, it’d suggest that Honerva traveled to Altea to personally take that position.

People have pointed out that someone with Honerva’s skintone and hair is in the shots of the forging of the Black Lion in s2e7- look between the two pieces of comet. 

She’s easier to spot here because she’s in the exact spot we see her in for most of the flashback (and, in fact, most of the series): right beside Zarkon.

Coran, Alfor, and an Altean with curly pale blue hair are also present in both pictures, and in the second picture we have a mixed crowd of Alteans and Galra. This means Honerva also helped with creating the Black Lion, but, it also could imply that this was the team dealing with the rift in general- suggesting more of a joint effort than just Honerva, eventually a citizen of Daibazaal herself, leading a team of galra.

We don’t see any of those other researchers when Alfor visits and Honerva is starting to look distinctly Haggar, I have to wonder if towards the end of her life she was doing her research alone, but initially it was much more of a team effort.

I’d assume if nothing else Alfor would withdraw his support for the project and whichever of his people were involved after he made his criticisms of it clear.

But both Coran’s narrative and the Black Lion’s would seem to suggest multiple researchers, just Honerva leading the study of the rift itself, and Alfor leading the construction of the Lions.

anonymous asked:

Camilles BFF who she fake married just had her baby and Camille made a whole post about how she can't wait to be their best friend. Run baby run

I think the baby should run away regardless since they named it Fox. Poor darling.

Dear Ellen DeGeneres,

Hi! My name is Shane Burcaw. I’m 25 years old, and I have a disease called spinal muscular atrophy that gives me the supermodel physique you see in my photo. You should see me in heels.

I’ve spent a good portion of my life correcting the misconceptions many people hold about living with a disability. As a kid, when my classmates were afraid to interact with me on the playground, I showed them that we could be the best of friends by running them over during flag football. As a teen, when I was convinced no girl could ever possibly like me, I went to homecoming with my friends and danced my heart out anyway. As a young adult, when years of being looked down upon because of my disability just became too much, I threw myself into a career of using humor to correct the damaging stigmas surrounding disability in our society.

It’s a big day for me, which is why I’m hoping you’ll read this. Today, my second book finally launched to the world after a year in the works! It’s a children’s picture book called “Not So Different,” and it answers many of the most common questions kids ask me about living with a disability in a light-hearted and entertaining way.

Last weekend, my girlfriend and I were out shopping, and a little boy stopped in his tracks when he saw me, pointed at me with wide eyes, and shouted, “Mommy, is that a baby?” His mother was mortified, but occurrences like this are all too common in my life. My goal is that my picture book will become a fun resource for parents and teachers to use with their kids, encouraging more children to grow up embracing diversity and difference!

In hopes of you seeing this, I’m asking my friends, family, and followers to share this post on a massive scale. If I can reach you by making this go viral, I would love nothing more than to send you a copy of my book. It’s the perfect length to read in a single toilet sitting.

With love,

Shane

friend: how’re you doing?

me internally: BOB THE DRAG QUEEN HAD ONE OF IF NOT THE BEST RUN ON DRAG RACE IVE EVEN SEEN. SHE DEMOLISHED THE COMPETITION AND THE ONLY TIME SHE LANDED IN THE BOTTOM WAS THE CHALLENGE WHERE EVERYONE BUT THE CLEAR BOTTOM DERRICK BARRY DID AMAZING AND EVEN THEN SHE GAVE AN AMAZING HILARIOUS LIP SYNC. SHE WAS BASICALLY THE ONLY QUEEN WHO DID WELL IN SNATCH GAME AND HER PERFORMANCE IN RUCO’S EMPIRE DESERVES AN EMMY. SHE IS ONE OF THE BEST WINNERS DRAG RACE HAS PRODUCED, IS AN ACTIVIST, HAD A FUCKING GREAT STANDUP SPECIAL ON TV, AND DESERVES WAY MORE PRAISE THAN SHE GETS. BOB THE DRAG QUEEN IS BEAUTIFUL AND DESERVES TO GET MORE RECOGNITION GOD DAMMIT-

me actually: oh, you know. I’m alright

choose a concept:

you ran into some mermaids in a cave of clear water and pink crystals. every time you start to leave, they sing to you in their melodic voices, and you sit back down.

you hit the earth so hard, you forgot what it felt like to be holy. you miss the feelings of light and love that only heaven brought you.

you met a cryptid in your local arcade and now you’re playing video games together. both of you are super competitive but are having a fun time.

it’s one in the morning and your robot girlfriend is in the corner powered down for the night. everything is still and peaceful.

x many years in the future, everyone is partially cyborgs and you and your best friends running through the city at night.

you’re walking through an abandoned amusement park on a cold and foggy morning. you keep hearing laughter, but every time you turn around, no one’s there.

i really need to do this hw and i swear i’m trying to focus but i’m. very gay.

anonymous asked:

Maybe Dark!Annabeth fighting a child of the big three and she knows that defeating them with physical, raw power isn't possible, so she attacks mentally. She defeats them with words, something Annabeth constantly does throughout the books to her enemies. Making them so angry, distracted, and/or sad that they lose focus and she easily takes the victory.

Annabeth feels him coming before she sees him.

There’s a charge in the air. A gathering static that threatens to strike with every movement she makes, but never quite gets the guts to do so.

That’s Jason Grace for you. Son of Jupiter, chosen of Juno, and just a touch too soft to do what needs to be done. Oh sure, he’ll kill monsters if he needs to, but when the monsters are gods, his solution is to become a priest.

It’s about finding a compromise, he’d said. And making sure that we’re heard.

Annabeth’s finding there are better ways of making noise.

“You got here faster than I expected,” she remarks as he touches down in front of her. She’s perched on the crumbling remnants of a wall that’s thousands of years old. Some small, distant part of her regrets what is about to happen here, but not enough to change course.

“Your pattern’s getting old,” he says. His gladius is out and he holds it warily between them. Annabeth keeps her drakonbone sword at her side. “The others can hold Percy off long enough for me to stop what you’re doing.”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re the only one coming?”

He tries to hide his grimace, but that’s the danger with fighting your friends. They can read you too well, and a smile curls over Annabeth’s mouth at the confirmation. She hops off the wall, landing lightly on the dirt.

“What made you think I’d be at Pompeii?”

Lightning crackles in the sky overhead, raising the small hairs at the back of her neck. He nods at the scaffolding in the distance, empty of workers this early in the morning. It’s a grim dawn, about to get darker.

“No tourists today. You might’ve turned against the gods, Annabeth, but you’re not a murderer.”

Isn’t she? Annabeth has lost count of the number of monsters she’s put in the ground (under the ground). How many demigods died in the war with Kronos? They bleed red the same as mortals, and her hands are as stained as anyone’s.

So are Jason’s, and irritation pricks at her face. She smooths it away with a cool smile, carefully tracking him as he starts to circle her. She has a certain amount of faith in Jason’s willingness to ‘save’ his friends, but she’s not an idiot.

“So I should start picking locations with people if I don’t want you to interfere, is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s obviously not what I’m saying.” His gaze flickers over the ruins stretching behind her. “So this is all rigged to blow, huh?”

“Leo does good work.”

He winces. He can play on whatever friendship the two of them might have had all he likes, but that betrayal is the real knife in the guts and they both know it. Annabeth coerces her expression into concern, the cogs of her brain turning the right muscles to give it the realism it needs. She takes a half step forward, and Jason doesn’t step away.

“He misses you, you know.” Her voice is a soft thing. Caring. “Misses both of you.”

“If he misses us so bad, he should come and see us.”

“You really think we’re going to be welcome at Camp after all this?

“You haven’t killed anyone.”

The yet sits between us, and it doesn’t matter anyway. The gods would be more likely to forgive her if she had killed someone. They could have murdered thousands of mortals and not been struck down, if they’d just done it far away from the last vestiges of godly power in this world.

Gaea had plotted to bring down Mt Olympus, and that’s definitely on Annabeth’s list. But she’s always been a methodical sort of girl, and divine power runs deep. Best to stamp out all traces of it, one relic at a time.

She sighs. “We don’t plan to. You know that.”

“You’re trying to kill the gods!” Lightning cracks again, closer now. It takes more strength than Annabeth wants to admit to to avoid reaching for her weapon.

“And how many times have they tried to kill us? At best they don’t give a shit, Jason, you know that.”

But he’s shaking his head. They’ve had this fight before, all of them, enough times that she could probably just record it for him to save energy. He’s long since stopped listening to sense, and she doesn’t bother with more than a cursory attempt to convince him.

“You’re too late for this one,” she says. “I’m proud of you for getting here before it blows, but you were right. It’s ready to go.”

His grip shifts on his sword. And - there’s something in his expression that prompts her to brace for an attack, because it’s not defeat. This time, she thinks. This time might be the one where I push too far.

It’s sad, sort of, but relief swamps that soon enough. It’s not that she wants to fight old friends, but it would make everything a lot simpler. To just be able to fight, without caring what happens to them anymore. To draw battlelines instead of blurring them

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growls. “But even if the rest of your team is ready to destroy this place, they’ll stop once you’re a hostage.”

Annabeth laughs. It’s a miscalculation, but she can’t help herself. “The others might. But hell itself couldn’t keep Percy Jackson from me, Jason, and you’re no Tartarus.”

“I can deal with Percy.”

He can’t. She wonders idly if he knows that. Everyone’s aware of Percy’s power these days, but that’s what he’s like with her at his side. Jason, she suspects, still has a little too much optimism left about what Percy’s self control would be like without her. What it would be like if he even thought she was in danger.

“Right, well, that’ll be your mistake to live with.” She squints up at the sky, trying to judge her next play. Being a hostage would accelerate certain things that she’s not ready to set into motion just yet. Most of all, she doesn’t think that Percy is quite as ready to fight the others as she is.

Not yet.

“You made a miscalculation,” she said finally. “You always want to go for the biggest player, Jason. It’s one of your biggest weaknesses.”

“You can’t talk your way out of this, Annabeth.” His body moves, and she can almost trace the lines in the air, the familiar forms he’s about to slide into. “You’re coming back to Camp wth me.”

He lifts his blade, wreathed in lightning. She smells ozone on the air, the threat of violence wafting in behind it. She clasps her hands behind her back, and lays down her hand.

“Where’s Piper, Jason?”

Everything stops. Nature itself holds its breath as those too-blue eyes widen in sheer panic, before narrowing at her.

“Piper’s your friend. You wouldn’t hurt her.”

Annabeth waits. She doesn’t need to say anything. The silence between them does it for her. The even sound of her breathing. The shroud of absolute confidence holding her shoulders straight.

You are not going to take me, her body says, like it’s all a foregone conclusion.

“She can handle herself,” he tries again, and there’s the edge of desperation that she’s been waiting for. Enough to cloud his thinking. He might not think she’s a murderer, but there are other atrocities. Things she hasn’t held back from in the opening numbers of this new war.

“Against Percy?”

That’s a risk. Because they both know that Percy isn’t steady, isn’t stable, that his relationship with Piper had been tenuous at best and that without Annabeth there, his temper might just get away with him. Piper has her Charmspeak, but there are ways around everything if you have enough power.

It’s a risk, because Jason’s anger could always outweigh his fear. He could always take it out on her rather than fly off for Piper. Annabeth is confident in her ability to take him with a sword, but Jason comes with all those bonus add-ons that children of Athena just aren’t privy to.

So she gives him one last push. Just to make sure.

“Tartarus has so many doors,” she says softly. That same quiet concern from before, turned deadly now. “You know we found all of them, right Jason?”

He spits a curse, something in Latin about the gods and what he hopes they’ll do to her. She watches him leap into the sky, shading her eyes against the rising sun until he’s no more than a dot in the distance.

“You say that like they haven’t already done their worst,” she murmurs, before turning back to the ruins.

There’s work to be done.

you should not be scared of your parents

you should not be scared of your parents

being your parent does not give them the right to degrade you, embarrass you, neglect you, make you feel worthless, abuse you, or make you feel scared

there’s a difference between being disciplined for acting up and being terrified of wobbling slightly out of line even once

you should not be scared to be yourself

you should not want to live on the streets

you should not be called names

you should not be scared of your parents

From the reactions of his siblings in Batman #33 I think it’s safe to say that Damian can bring the world on its knees by simply crying in front of his family. 

5

Harry Potter vs Ao3 tags  Part 5/??

Trust

DAY 4 OF WHUMP WEEK- Torture.

I’m actually really proud of this one? It’s a bit longer than usual, and it’s very Keith-centric even though I’m whumping Lance because hi have you met me? I’m too invested in klance. I hope you enjoy!

@elsiemcclay aka the best person to run ideas and/or titles by. thanks friendo.


A groan sounded to Keith’s left, and he looked over immediately, trying to mask his relief with a glare. “Oh, good. He finally decided to wake up.”

“Hey, how many times do I have to tell you? Beauty sleep is important.” A pause. “Where are we again?”

Pidge snorted. “Guess that general hit him harder than we thought.”

“Lance! You’re okay! I was worried— that totally knocked you out, you hadn’t moved in a while,” Hunk rambled. “Does your head hurt?”

“Like hell,” Lance said, leaning back against the wall and pressing a hand to his forehead. “But nothing too serious. Thankfully, now that I’m conscious, I remember what happened. We’ve been captured, haven’t we?”

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