Imagine you almost got unmasked because you were reminded of the moment you stopped hearing a heartbeat that was next to you for 15 years but got saved at the last moment by the man who literally killed that heartbeat
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@rafaelbarbie1
Imagine you almost got unmasked because you were reminded of the moment you stopped hearing a heartbeat that was next to you for 15 years but got saved at the last moment by the man who literally killed that heartbeat
People loooove to underestimate El's intelligence when that girl outwitted every adult in Hawkins lab when she was just 11 years old. Refer: entirety of s1.
You can argue that she had 001's help while escaping, but she survived, she knew who to trust, and literally everything else she did in S1 shows how incredibly smart she is.
Ik theres a lot of newish Max fans out there who are experiencing him losing a title for the first time and I just wanna tell yall than in less than 4 years he went from being booed in literally every continent to winning dotd despite losing the championship to Lando Norris. And yk what he did to earn that type of love from former haters. Absolutely nothing. Brother literally raced the same, spat out the same bullshit, instigated 394 autosport articles, rewrote rules about 3 times, adopted 5 rookies. Just continued to be himself.Thats whats so good about being a Max fan. U dont gotta do much but watch. And wait .
So apparently like monts ago I got a parking ticket of $60 that I literally didnt now shit ab because it wasnt like a cop that stopped me or anythign ((thank god)) and today I was made aware thru a notice sent to my moms address that now owe $220 cus of penalties for not paying on time. I called them to try and explain that I never even smelled that ticket and have no idea what happened but they didnt give a fuck.
I already borrowed $50 from my friend. We dont have enough money to cover the rest. Our foster kitten's death hit my wife pretty hard and she's not taking it well. She's not working. I got a job recently but its below minimum wage, it doesn't even cover rent let alone utilities. We're starting to consider asking somebody to take our cats for a minute because theres days we dont eat so they can.
I really just need help wid ticket busines to get it out of mind because its just too much.
Heres the paypal: [email protected]
And my ko-f1
All the love in the world. To u
People saying jonathan will fight mike over Will about the unrequited love... Do you guys not realise El is his sister too
it's brutal out here for max verstappen (inspired by this ask to @drivestraight <3)
talk to me about boromir
Ten Things About Boromir the Bold That Never Made It Into the Red Book of Westmarch
I. His strongest memory of his mother was the smell of the sea she carried in her hair; how dark and tall she stood, looking towards an east Boromir would ever only long for in her honor.
II. Boromir did not ever doubt that he was loved. He was the first son of Gondor, swaddled in a walled citadel and rocked in Pelennor’s arms. He did not question why his father’s love was like stone, nor why his brother looked to him like he was the highest point of the ramparts. They were a city, and how else was a city to love?
III. For Boromir’s fourteenth year, the master of hounds promised him a pup of his own—One of Huan’s own line, the man swore, As befits a prince. What Boromir received, however, was the runt of that spring’s litter, a wheezing, stumbling thing that Boromir stubbornly nursed with a cheesecloth dipped in milk, then fed meat from his own plate.
Bellas, he called her, and ignored any who dared laugh.
Bellas never grew taller than Boromir’s knees, but she was strong and stubborn and loyal—for three years, Boromir went nowhere without her shadow at his heels. Bellas slept at the end of his bed; waited patiently during Boromir’s lessons; loped after his horse when he went riding.
Boromir was seventeen when Bellas was killed, her neck broken by an orc who had stumbled into their hunting party. She had put herself between her young master and the interloper, and afterwards, Boromir had carried her in his arms all the way back to Minas Tirith.
He buried her beneath a sapling tree on the slope of Mindolliun, and wept where no one could see him.
IV. Faramir looked east, and dreamt of great waves. Boromir watched him, heart heavy in his chest.
V. He had been in love with—well. He never said.
VI. Boromir was ill at ease in Elrond’s house, feeling too rough with travel, and heavy—all of Gondor on his shoulders, the knowledge that Faramir’s fine speech and strange visions might have meant something here, where Boromir, Protector of the City, did not. But he burned when they dismissed Gondor, his fingernails biting into his palms when the strength of Men was so questioned. (He had not seen any Elves come to Osgiliath’s defense, nor heard of any wizard-craft that kept the Corsairs from their brazen pillaging of Langstrand and Belfalas. What had these mighty peoples done to battle back the Shadow in the East except sit in their cool green palaces and speak in riddles?)
VII. He liked the Hobbits best, even after. They reminded him most of his own men, with their stubbornness and light-hearted complaints, their love of food and pipe-smoke and story. Three of them had left behind the whole of their world, to walk into darkness beside just one, and—yes, Boromir could respect such brotherhood.
VIII. (Aragorn remembered when Boromir was only a child, rosy-cheeked and happy to leave his mother’s side, to follow Thorongil around the citadel burbling in some tongue only Denethor and Finduilas could decipher. It was strange to meet the man that child became, to stand at a height with him, to wield a sword at his side, to listen to him speak of peace for Minas Tirith like other men spoke of lovers.
It made Aragorn feel very old, an ache deep in his bones that had not been there before. Careful, he wanted to caution the man, as he had once cautioned the child. Reach too high and you will fall.)
IX. One rainy night, when Boromir was keeping watch over the sleeping Fellowship, he sketched it out in his mind—the streets he would lead Aragorn through, the hidden corners of the palace he would show to Merry and Pippin, the great gates of the city whose craftsmanship he might justly boast of to Gimli. How Minas Tirith, that shining city, would chase the sorrow from the Fellowship’s faces, might shield them, might give them rest.
The rain dripped down his neck, cold, but he was gone to Minas Tirith—This is my home, he imagined himself saying to his companions, his brothers. This is home, may you always be welcome.
X. His last thought was of Faramir.
(Brother, little brother, I—)
The House of Húrin is not impressed, Aragorn
Thinking about how Denethor uses his grief as a cloak and Faramir cloaks his grief.
Both of them are able to keep enough emotional distance from Boromir’s death to find out the information they need.
Denethor uses the pretext of wanting to hear Pippin’s memories of Boromir to find out about Aragorn. This infuriates Gandalf: “You can use even your grief as a cloak. Do you think that I do not understand your purpose in questioning for an hour one who knows the least, while I sit by?”
Faramir, on the other hand, is willing to throw Boromir under the bus to get Frodo to talk: “….I can well believe that Boromir, the proud and fearless, often rash, ever anxious for the victory of Minas Tirith (and his own glory therein), might desire such a thing and be allured by it.”
They’ve known about Boromir’s death for less than TWO WEEKS, so it’s impressive (in a slightly disturbing way) that they can be so… tactical when they speak about him.
Can’t you see the family resemblance??? Faramir is not some hapless teary eyed softboi who needs Eowyn to protect him! Faramir is cunning and calculating because he learned from the best!
There’s a deeply funny and tragic parent-child dynamic to this exchange between Faramir and Denethor:
‘I hope that I have not done ill?’ He looked at his father.
‘Ill?’ cried Denethor, and his eyes flashed suddenly. ‘Why do you ask? The men were under your command. Or do you ask for my judgement on all your deeds? Your bearing is lowly in my presence, yet it is long since you turned from your own way at my counsel.
I imagine Denethor is thinking, “How dare you try to manipulate me, I’m the one who taught you how to do that!” Then he says, “My son, your father is old but not yet dotard,” which has the most tired, sarcastic, pissed-off dad energy. And of course he has only himself to blame for Faramir’s pigheadedness, because he’s exactly the same way!!! which is something he can never admit, naturally. Denethor’s attitude to Faramir is very much “I see myself in this picture and I don’t like it.”
Boromir and Theodred being friends drabble for worldflower
*****
Once the reports and procedures were done, Boromir poured another cup of wine. ‘So. I heard a strange story from my men.’
‘Oh for the – is this the one about the race?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘It’s a filthy lie.’
‘Truly.’
‘It’s a filthy exaggeration,’ Theodred amended. ‘I wasn’t unhorsed, and didn’t have to give away half my possessions to my cousin. I just…didn’t quite manage to beat him this time.’
‘He sounds an excellent man to have under your command.’
‘He’ll be more excellent when people have forgotten he beat me,’ Theodred grumbled.
‘It gave me hope, that story,’ Boromir mused. A light came into Theodred’s eye.
‘My lord, do you think to challenge me to a race? A horse race?’
Boromir leaned forward. ‘Let me tell you about the stallion my Uncle gave me, bred in Dol Amroth-’
‘Already I feel for you and your loss,’ said Theodred.
‘But of Rohan stock, it’s grandfather-’
‘-is nothing to my horse’s ancestry I assure you.’
‘That’s it! I accept your challenge!’ Boromir declared eagerly.
‘I don’t believe I gave one, I wanted to spare you the humiliation of-’
‘Finish your drink, my lord, we race at midday! If your cousin can unhorse you-’
‘That is slander, and you will take it back!’ Theodred exclaimed, but he was grinning.
‘Certainly I will. If you can beat me,’ said Boromir.
Who, Theodred thought, could fail to be drawn to that bright enthusiasm, that pride so strong and shining he thought to challenge the heir of Rohan to a horse race. Who could not be attracted to faith like that?
Boromir Week, Day 6: Change of Fate
The note from Boromir's horn bounded high and clear, ricocheting off broken, soot-stained stone. A swell of voices rose into the air, cheering and shouting.
“The King of Gondor has returned!” he bellowed, sweeping his arm to Aragorn over his shoulder. “Long live King Elessar Telcontar, heir of Isildur!”
Aragorn was sitting straight and tall on his horse, his mouth set, but his eyes betrayed the barest spark of shell-shock. Boromir wasn’t going to let him think about it. He squeezed his horse’s flanks and started forward. Aragorn’s horse instinctively followed, and behind them the cumbersome train of their friends, comrades, and vanguard fell into step.
They passed through the first gate, which was no more than the stubs of towers, rimed with ash and gouged by ballistae. Still, gate wardens stood on top of the rubble, and the heralds released a peal from their trumpets. First, the two rising notes that signaled peaceful news to the city, and then the short burst that had been preceding Boromir his whole life. The Captain was entering the city. Growing up, Faramir would buzz it through pursed lips whenever Boromir stumbled out of bed or emerged from the jakes. But following after was a ring that hadn’t been heard from the ramparts of Minas Tirith since the second age. A clear swirl of notes, rising into the morning air.
The King was entering the city.
A snippet from a fic I wrote a few years ago. We all know Boromir Lives is my lifeblood, and one of my favorite concepts is Boromir reinventing himself as the pillar that holds up and legitimizes Aragorn as king.
@boromir-week
Boromir
For me, one of the most depressing moments in Denethor and Faramir’s relationship is not the … obvious, but when Faramir points out that he didn’t have the benefit of Denethor’s advice when he made the call about the Ring. Denethor bitterly responds that it’s been a long time since he managed to change Faramir’s mind about anything, anyway, because Gandalf is the one Faramir actually loves.
I do not blame Faramir a particle for adhering to his own high principles, to be clear. He absolutely made the right call. But their dynamic is vastly more complex than “Denethor wishes Faramir were dead.”
Keep reading
I saw a post saying that Boromir looked too scruffy in FotR for a Captain of Gondor, and I tried to move on, but I’m hyperfixating. Has anyone ever solo backpacked? I have. By the end, not only did I look like shit, but by day two I was talking to myself. On another occasion I did fourteen days’ backcountry as the lone woman in a group of twelve men, no showers, no deodorant, and brother, by the end of that we were all EXTREMELY feral. You think we looked like heirs to the throne of anywhere? We were thirteen wolverines in ripstop.
My boy Boromir? Spent FOUR MONTHS in the wilderness! Alone! No roads! High floods! His horse died! I’m amazed he showed up to Imladris wearing clothes, let alone with a decent haircut. I’m fully convinced that he left Gondor looking like Richard Sharpe being presented to the Prince Regent in 1813
*electric guitar riff*
And then rocked up to Imladris a hundred ten days later like
Some people have been wondering about the raccoon. Listen. Listennn. Don't ask about the raccoon.
But does the racoon survive the Uruk-Hai? Does he curl up on Aragorn's head, or does he go straight to Faramir? Does he bite Denethor?
My friend. My colleague. My brother my captain my king. I too have been pondering this question, and in my mind there can be only one ultimate outcome.
A few months later
All hail the High Warden of Gondor.
Epilogue: It ADORES Faramir.