realisation that Findis (Finwë + Indis) was not Finwe’s only suburban mum type naming moment lolol. He did it again with Nolofinwe. His name is Finwe Nol(doran). Nol. Finwë. Nolofinwë.
he just didn’t involve Indis for this one.
Of course Fëanor felt threatened by his baby brother being named that way… there’s a note on him worrying about his position as heir because Finwë initially named all three of his sons Finwion (later adding Curu- Nolo- Ara-), which especially makes sense when you know that “Finwë” basically functioned as a title for “King” later on (which is why Fingolfin adds a ‘fin’ when he claims Kingship).
But pasting together a name that is made up out of the elements of his own name + title Noldoran (which actually means king of all Noldor) in much the same way as Findis is Finwe Indis…. Nolofinwë.
What exactly was Finwë thinking because it might not have been the intent at all but…how else was Fëanor supposed to take it? The Noldor make fairly subtle changes in pronunciation into a political issue, naming your son from your new, improved, Valar-blessed marriage for what sounds like your own name (which often functions as a title) + the word for wisdom which just so happens to sound like the start of your official title…
This is how I would name a second child if I wanted them to fight so the strongest contender for the throne would survive lmao, which does not seem to have been the intent.
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this image is beautiful but klaufir being banned just highlights how tumblr will take transfem art and then cast out the trans woman that made it. time and time again our contributions are taken but we lose our connections to them.
Further context: Durham city council (Reform UK) cut funding and support for Pride. The Durham Miner's Association and other trade unions raised enough money for Durham Pride 2026 to go ahead - a direct call back to when Lesbian and Gays Support the Miners (LGSM) raised money for mining communities when Margaret Thatcher seized union funding during the miner strikes of 1984-85.
At the 1985 Labour party meet, the motion to support LGBT rights as a party was passed due to a block vote from mining unions.
Stephen Guy, the chair of the Durham Miners’ Association, said that when it became apparent Durham Pride was under threat, he took it upon himself to “encourage the trade union movement to step up and do the right thing, and stand shoulder to shoulder with the LGBT+ community […] They not only raised funds for us, but came to our communities, uplifted our spirits when they were down, and showed their solidarity.”
#HELL YEAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!#i watched the movie that discussed this event and it was GREAT
sorry i just. i have to say something here
the movie is not about this event. i have seen a lot of reblogs tagged as "pride (2014)" or "watch the movie about this!" or similar, and while I totally get it (and Pride is a great movie) i just want to underline: this post is not about the events depicted in Pride (2014), although it is absolutely related
this is about Durham Pride 2026, which took place three days ago and which the Durham Miners Association funded to the tune of ten times its usual budget, in an act of resistance to the current right-wing politics of England.
and I totally understand why people love Pride and want to talk about it! but Pride is about events that took place 40 years ago, and while they are still very important (as you can see from their mention in the DMA's original post), I think it's really important that we keep this in its context as something that's happening now.
this is not queer history. this is current, of-the-moment solidarity at a time when many would say that the radical trade unions of the North-East died when the mines closed, and when the North-East has gone from being associated with radical labour politics to being associated with Brexit, Reform, and the swing to the nationalist right.
and while I can't police how people tag this post, and I don't mean to say people can't or shouldn't tag it as Pride (2014), it's happening enough that I just really need to say this. this is not (just) about what happened in 1985. this is about what is happening in 2026.
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it’s wild to me how there is literally ZERO correlation between what a piece of media is like and what its fanworks are like. 2014 captain america fans were out there writing poetry and full-on academic papers inside of their fics. sonic the hedgehog and my little pony fandoms are both famous for drawing fetishes you’ve never even heard of. les miserables fans spent most of their energy on college aus. there is literally no consistency or observable pattern and it’s incredible
#my theory is that fanworks reflect what people found missing in the canon#so like. sonic and mlp. obviously#les miz want les amis to be happy and alive and goofing around#and uh. mcu fans want the mcu to be well-written (via dicaeopolis)
Started this before actually designing any Arthurian characters and then left it rotting for a month and then had to deal with my style being ahead of the work already done when i tried to finish it. Fun!
I’ve been in the middle of the ocean at night and now live in texas and it is so hard to explain to people that no, they have not ever seen the night sky. It is so hard to explain to people that what they think is a proper night sky is fucking pathetic. A disgrace.
People talk about how you can’t see stars in the city and yeah, that’s true, but their concept of “seeing stars” is being able to make out orion’s belt.
So, so few people have see the sky in all its glory and it’s not sad. It’s a fucking crime. Seeing a perfectly dark night, no clouds, not a hint of light pollution? That’s a fucking religious experience.
The sky the vast vast majority of us grew up with is not the sky that inspired us to look up. It is not the sky that inspired constellations. You can’t even see most constellations.
Your ancestors looked at the night sky and said “surely, that is where the gods must live.” And you might be lucky if you can see hardly more than a handful of stars.
The sky is full, fucking FULL, of stars, and you’ve never seen them.
I remember the first time I saw a properly dark sky and was like ‘oh that’s why it’s called the milky way’ and promptly started to cry
When we were on a field trip to the middle of the red sea, I remember us all crowding at the end of the boat that didn’t have lights and just lying on our backs and staring
When you see a properly dark starscape
You understand why people wrote poems and made up legends and built rockets and said heaven’s in the sky
I’m trying to find a picture on google images to show you what I mean and I can’t find any
You think of the night sky like fairy lights on black velvet, but it’s not it’s not it’s like, like, dust in sunlight, like - I can’t find the words.
The stars are everywhere, like sugar, like glitter, like dust. You can’t find the constellations at first, not because you can’t recognise them, but because there’s so many stars you can’t pick out the familiar line of Orion’s belt. The North star has gone from bright familiarity to almost vanishing among a thousand, a hundred thousand, a million other lights. The milky way is a line of light arcing across the sky like a moon-trail on water only infinitely, infinitely bigger.
And for the first time in your life you’ll understand why people call it a dome, because it is, it’s three dimensional in exactly the way a city skyscape isn’t.
You’ll understand why Luthien Tinúviel danced under starlight, not moonlight, why people in a time before we knew the earth was round still looked up and wondered and built telescopes and dreamed about the stars.
The stars are endless and ancient and infinite and you will stand with your head craned back and your rucksack forgotten at your feet and you’ll feel like you’re falling upwards into that great bright sky like it’s calling you home and you’ll wonder how you ever thought the stars were beautiful before tonight when all you’d ever seen were the naked empty skyscapes of your home. And you’ll cry and you’ll spend the rest of your time there gazing up and wondering and imagining what it would be like to stand among those bright silver flecks
And then you’ll come home, and look up, and fall in a different kind of love with that handful of blazing stars to stubborn to be outdone by the whole of human invention, leading you home despite the light pollution and the clouds and the endless bustle of this shrinking planet.
this is not a shot from a space telescope overlayed behind a woods, or anything. that’s not the sky as kepler or hubble or james webb see it. that’s the sky from a dark sky park in michigan. that’s the view you are missing out on from right here on earth. that’s the view that has been stolen from you.
I fell in love with the sky as a child growing up in western Minnesota, miles from a small town, near a massive lake and just downhill from an 18-hole golf course - the pure darkness broken only by a single bright light I could escape by hauling my telescope up that hill or into a nearby field
I’d often set an alarm to wake me in the middle of the night, so it was as dark as possible and my eyes as dark-adapted as they could get, and starlight alone was enough to guide me
(in my own defense, I was either 13 or 14 here and was as proud of that 8-track player behind me as I was of the fossil collection in the typesetting drawer beside it. the little telescope in front was my first, a 4" Edmund Astroscan purchased with dishwashing money a year before the bigger Crown Optics instrument. developed this image myself using gear from the 1940s, btw)
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los angeles is not known for having a good or even decent public transit system but in the past few years they’ve been expanding the train lines and have been pushing to get people to ride the trains more often, which includes making official la metro merch and, well:
this is a restock because they sold out in less than a week the first time
I was going through my docs trying to organize them (they are all named untitled, make of that what you will) and found part of my Queen Findis fic! Idk what past me was on when I wrote this but i actually like it-- so presented here is Idril and Tuor's arrival in Valinor, from Findis' point of view (taking place somewhere in the middle of her story)
------------
Curious eyes turned towards the figure on the ship. One foot stood poised on the gunwale, but his entire body was rigid with hesitation. He clung to the rigging for support, seeming more at ease on the sea than the crowded shore.
Findis stepped forward. A companion of Itarillë’s meant that he was under Noldorian jurisdiction.
“Pray, come ashore, my friend. As a companion of my kinswoman, I claim you under my protection. Your boat will be well looked after, if that is what causes your hesitation.”
The figure’s head lifted slightly as his eyes flickered to hers, and then to Itarillë. He had a beard, Findis realized. He must be ancient indeed, perhaps one of those that had left Cuiviénen so long ago.
Itarillë distangled herself from her grandmother’s concerned soothing, rearranging her skirt as she stumbled slightly towards Findis.
“I dont– well that’s–”
She cut off with a strangled gasp. Findis saw the flicker of grey from the corner of her eye as Olórin moved past her towards the mariner. He had maintained his elven fana, but the power he now carried like a visible cloak around him left no one in any doubt that this was a maia. Whispered conversations fell silent as he stopped on the dock in front of the boat. So he is here on official business after all.
Olórin smiled gently. His eyes crinkled into that disarming sparkle, a calming focus point designed to put the viewer at ease. He extended a hand, palm up, towards the startled face of the mariner.
When he spoke, his voice was soft, and yet every elf crowded onto the small landing could hear as if the maia had shouted from the balcony of the palace.
“Hail and well met, Tuor son of Huor, called Ulmondil. Though you are of the Second Children, we welcome you to the Blessed Land.” Olórin leaned closer and spoke to Tuor alone; Findis could just make out his voice above the lapping waves. “Do not yet despair, my lord. The Valar will hear your case.”
As if in a trance, Tuor (did he say the Second Children?!) took the offered hand. A current seemed to pass between the pair, a silent conversation in the space of a single step as Tuor was lifted off the gunwale onto the dock of Tirion. As he took his first step onto the alien shore, a gust of wind traveling down from the distant peaks blew back his hood, revealing his strange features to the crowd.
A large gasp, followed by excited chatter. Findis tuned them out. Her mind was already whirring with the next steps she needed to take to restore order and whisk Itarillë and the Secondborn (a Secondborn!) out of the crowd and back towards the safety of the palace. She was jolted out of these thoughts by a sobbing Itarillë, who had stumbled and thrown herself into Tuor’s arms. Were it not for the steading hand Olórin had placed on his back, the poor man would have been bowled over by the force of her leap.
Canmë, bless her, was already moving. Raising her hands to her mouth, she let out a loud Hoi! Findis was gratified to see the crowd pause their murmuring, and to see her own guards snap to attention. With several slight hand signals, she indicated that they should take up positions near the pair, who were still wrapped tightly in each other’s arms. Between her guards and Olórin, who was still providing a calming presence at their backs, at least they would have some space to gather themselves.
Findis raised her chin, and turned to address the crowd. “The Valar have approved of the arrival of an Exile and a Secondborn to our shores. “As High Queen of the Noldor–” she turned her gaze to Olwë and Ingwë “-- I claim responsibility for Itarillë, daughter of Turukáno, and Tuor Secondborn. I extend to them the hospitality of Tirion.”
The two kings gave slight nods, and Findis relaxed just a fraction. She had no doubt that they would come prying later, but she had staved off the inevitable debates for the moment. Olwë turned to the crowd. “You heard the Queen. My people have no quarrel here today.” Findis sighed. That had been rather too much emphasis placed on the word today. An issue to be dealt with later.
Ingwë said nothing, but gave her a shallow nod as he turned his company back toward Valimar. Between the three sets of royal guards, the harbor quickly cleared. Amárië appeared from the edge of the crowd, supported by Eärwen on one side and Arafinwë on the other. Arafinwë peeled off from the two women and approached Findis, laying a steadying hand on her shoulder. Findis curled her arm around his back and leaned into him, resting his head along her shoulder. She had seen the brief, wild hope in his eyes at the sight of long golden hair fluttering in the sea breeze. Many of the observers today would be returning home with that renewed bitter loss. She pressed a kiss into his golden locs.
------
An awkward throat clearing jolted Findis’ attention back to the present. Before her stood Itarillë and Tuor. Tuor’s eyes were downcast, hands folded in front of him, the perfect picture of unassuming subservience. Itarillë, on the other hand, stood tall and met Findis’ eyes. Her face, though tearstained, was set in a mask of stubborn conviction. With a pang, Findis recalled Elenwë’s face the last time they had met. It was the face of someone who would not be swayed from their course, although where Elenwë’s had shone with excitement to cross to Endórë, Itarillë’s face spoke of the grief and tempering they had found there. It was the look of a hardened princess, a leader. A queen, Findis realized.
Arafinwë distangled himself from Findis’ arm and stepped back to her right, allowing Findis to address the pair in front of her. Once he noticed her eyes focus on him, Tuor sank into a low, shaky bow.
“You have my endless gratitude, Your Majesty. You shall have full command of me and my services while I am in your care. It is an honor and a comfort to meet my wife’s sundered kin on these strange shores”
Findis blinked. Married? It explained their reactions towards each other, but a marriage bond between First and Second born? Findis the Scholar was desperate to gather more data. Findis the Queen, thankfully, spoke instead. “Thank you, lord, but there is no need for such formality. As husband to my kinswoman, you are most welcome in my house.”
Tuor raised himself from his bow, Itarillë’s grip on his arm steadying his ascent. He smiled at her, and Findis noticed the pleasant laugh lines of his face. Unlike her husband, Itarillë’s face remained stony.
The two women regarded each other in a brief bout of awkward silence. If Findis was correct in her hunch about Beleriand politics, then both nis held the position of High Queen of the Noldor. Typically, visiting royalty were supposed to acknowledge local royalty first. Findis could not be the one to make the first move.
At last, Itarillë inclined her head stiffly. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for your hospitality, but I hope we won’t have to impose upon you long. We must meet with the Valar immediately. And,” she added, “I go by Idril now, please.”
Olórin spoke up from where he was standing with Eärwen and Amárië. “The Valar know of your desire to speak with them, my lady, and will call upon you soon. For now, they wish you to rest after your long journey.”
Itarillë – Idril now-- looked thunderous. Findis could empathize; “soon” to the Valar could mean months to years of waiting. Tuor gently took Idril’s hand, and gave her a look of such love and understanding that Findis felt she ought to turn away. He murmured something in a language Findis didn’t understand, and Idril melted, squeezing his hand in return.
A throat cleared at her shoulder. Findis looked down to see that Canmë had rematerialized next to her. “Your Majesty–” her voice carried across their small group, drawing all eyes to her “--I have procured transportation back to the palace. I could not acquire the proper carriage on such short notice, but,” she gestured to a small wagon being driven by two of the royal guards on horseback, “I hope this will suffice. I’ve been assured that it has not been used to transport fish. Recently.”
“Trading one rickety vessel for another, I see,” Tuor laughed. It was a genuine laugh, and Findis found herself unconsciously smiling. She liked this Secondborn, she decided.
But if they reproduce through pollination how can they be sure they no longer reproduce? Maybe they’re anemophilous and are wind-pollinated and if they stand in a strong enough breeze an Entwife, somewhere, conceives an Entseed.
1.) Ents reproduce exclusively through sexual intercourse, or something close to it
OR
2.) Ents reproduce via pollination and...
a.) are dioecious, with Ents producing only male flowers and Entwives producing only female flowers, and pollinated either by wind or by animals (or by hand?)
b.) have bisexual flowers, but which are so specialized that they can exclusively be pollinated by one specific species of pollinator...
The Entwives left the forest so long ago that the Ents no longer remember what they looked like. Treebeard says the Shire sounds like the sort of place they would have loved, with its gardens and flowers and agriculture. Hobbits have folklore of giant bees, named after bumblebees. Certain flowers only release pollen to “buzz pollinators”, like bumblebees.
Could it be that the Ents—who notoriously do everything slowly—failed to evolve quickly enough to compete with agricultural crops for the time and attention of their only pollinator species? Did the Entwives dump the Ents to evolve into regular bees faster than the Ents could even consciously process? DOES SAM GAMGEE THE GARDENER’S BOY KEEP ENTWIVES?!
I think we’ve done it. I think we’ve cracked the code. (Shut the fuck up, Jirt, no one asked you.)
It’s only in the movies that the Ents cannot remember the Ent wives. In the books they’ve described as having golden hair, red cheeks, and eyes like the Ents. Meaning the Entwives probably resembled the ents in appearance.
Likewise in the books the Ents were basically tree like giants instead of giant trees. As seen below
Peter Jackson reimagined the Ents as being giant trees instead of tree like giants so returning to the original question I propose a compromise:
Treebeard from the movies reproduces through pollination by the Ent Wives who are giant bees.
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Yeah sorry I can't come into work today. I accidentally heard Primadonna by Marina formerly of and the Diamonds. So I need the day to be a primadonna girl. Yeah it's going to be the whole day.
