#I don’t have a problem I have a solution

[catcake24]

While I see your point, this is under the assumption that someone wanting to overthrow the system will be willing to listen to disabled voices - which is not always the case.

For example, people pushing for cars to be made illegal ignore how many physically disabled people use them to drive distances that healthier people could bike or walk to. Even in 15 minute cities, walking or biking 15 minutes might be too much for some people. Better transit can help, but what if they need to get to the hospital on their own in an emergency? These arguments are ignored because disabled people can’t always advocate for themselves like able bodied people can, and it leads to disabled people having to put up with it - even though it was done by activists. (This isn’t a very big problem right now of course, but I’m trying to illustrate my point of how some activists ignore disabled people if it’s inconvenient.)

Now imagine not being listened to or considered like that, but on a larger scale. What if the new system has some negative impact on disabled people that others can’t see? What if solutions just make the problem worse? Are there actually any plans for helping the disabled by the revolutionaries?

This isn’t even to mention that any revolution with violence will put disabled people in more danger than almost anyone else (areas they live in becoming unsafe and unable to evacuate, possible power outages to hospitals in conflict areas, medication supply chains being disrupted and leaving people with chronic conditions unmedicated, and so on), and being called a “necessary sacrifice” for a revolution to happen is very cold comfort.

I don’t think you’re advocating for these things, but I’m trying my best to explain the thought process of some people like me who rely on a lot of support. We can’t always be certain of our future already, but the idea of our whole lives being put into turbulence that we can’t control is terrifying.

[hannie-dul-set]

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES.

p — MYUNG JAEHYUN x fem! reader. g — humor, fluff, park sungho learns a lesson about minding his own business. w — swearing, death threats (as a form of flirting). 1.5k words.

requested by — @gluion “go kill yourself x “i’m pretty sure they have a crush on me”

note — part of my ship dynamics: insane edition gimmick. this is very the breakup soup coded. i just like writing about a bunch of idiots stressing about the dumpster fire love life of their friend. enjoy.

myung jaehyun’s friends are pretty sure he’s had a very stable, very loving, very normal upbringing.

“stop staring at me, you fucking creep.”

“sorry, i didn’t mean to make your heart flutter. can’t help it when you’re so pretty.”

“i’ll stab your fucking eyes out.”

“my eyes are all yours, pretty.”

so they can’t wrap their head around why he’s acting like he has not a single ounce of self-respect in his body. sungho and leehan watch as their pitiful friend gets shut down again by the most venomous glare, hostile sneer, deflected by the biggest pair of heart eyes in the world that’s ever longingly following your disappearing figure out the library door. “she wants me so bad,” he concludes with a self-righteous smile as he arranges his notes into one neat stack. sungho and leehan share a look. god almighty, please grant their friend wisdom and salvation.

“what...what makes you say that?” sungho attempts to prod. the first step to finding a solution is to figure out the situation. they need to know why myung jaehyun is so down bad for you, and why he’s so convinced that you feel the same way.

“huh?” jaehyun perks up. like he’s genuinely confused sungho has to ask that. “she was so flustered earlier. couldn’t you tell? it was adorable.”

“she threatened to mutilate you…?” 

jaehyun beams. “she sure did.”

there...there is no point trying to understand him, sungho concludes. leehan is, for lack of a better word, getting mildly frustrated. “hyung, what the hell?” he raises. “if telling someone you want them dead is an indication of romantic feelings, then my middle school bullies must’ve been head over heels for me.”

a silence. a pause. “we’ll unpack that later,” sungho tells him. then shifts his attention back to problem child number one. “you. you’re a grown man who has full autonomy over his actions and feelings, and i know that. but as your friend, i just can’t keep watching you being disrespected, jaehyun. i can’t help but get angry on your behalf when you greet her good morning and alll she does is tell you to go fuck yourself!”

admittedly, sungho got a little bit heated at the end there. but he has every right to feel this emotion on behalf of his dense and seemingly unaffected friend— who is still sitting there, a smile on his face, hands on his lap like a patient buddha who has learned the true meaning of peace and serenity.

“sungho-yah,” jaehyun starts with a pleasant hum. “there’s no need to worry. the feeling is totally mutual. i’m telling you, she likes me back.”

speechless.

in fact, sungho and leehan are beyond speechless. they have no idea where this ungrounded certainty comes from. they certainly have even less of an idea on how to fix his lovesickness, bordering on insanity.

so, reasonably— they call for backup.

“the only way for him to get his shit together is if he asks her out for real and finally gets rejected for good,” taesan declares confidently. somehow, they see a point. riwoo lets out an echo of agreement. woonhak asks why they’re all excluding jaehyun from this after school garage meeting. “do you guys know when he’s planning on doing that?”

“no idea,” leehan answers. “but maybe we can pressure him into it.”

“so, should we encourage him instead of telling him to give it up?” sungho raises. taesan affirms. sungho lets out a grunt and a huff. “god, that’s gonna be tough.”

a resounding voice of dissent arises from woonhak. “i don’t get why you’re all going against jaehyun-hyung!” he yells indignantly. “let hyung love whoever he wants! this is a free country! you guys can’t dictate his love!”

“he’s received fuck you’s straight in the face and swears she’s flirting, woonhak. you’re too young to understand.”

it’s four votes against one. woonhak can’t win against his hyung’s determination to save myung jaehyun from his self-dug pit of pitifulness that he’d been in ever since laying eyes on you at the freshman orientation. god, they never should’ve went. he never should’ve shot down jaehyun’s suggestion to just skip it. maybe then, myung jaehyun would still be normal.

but this is not the time to lament and regret. it’s time for sungho to right his wrongs. it’s time to bring jaehyun’s self-respect back, they decide. and it starts with a wake-up call in the form of your inevitable, brutal rejection. 

which, for some reason, does not happen as planned.

“what?”

“we’re going on a date.” jaehyun is as chipper as ever and sungho’s ears are starting to ring. “thanks for the encouragement, sungho!”

it’s ringing. it’s ringing so badly. “wait, what do you mean you’re going on a date?” he attempts to clarify, grabbing jaehyun by the shoulders because this is two-parts concerning, one-part kind of…proud? this guy actually succeeded? “she said yes? she didn’t tell you to fuck off and die in a hole?”

“she did. she looked pretty while saying it.” jaehyun answers with a bright grin. nevermind. this is all parts concerning. sungho “she also told me she’d kill me if i pick her up late after her class tomorrow. we’re going to have dinner at the thai restaurant that just opened. riwoo recommended it.”

sungho does not understand. he cannot understand because you, who seems to hate all of myung jaehyun’s guts for no discernible reason, agreed to go on a date with him? hello? has jaehyun been right this whole time? do you really reciprocate his feelings? or is this just some new form of torture? is his friend a masochist? is he the weird one for making a big fucking deal out of this? is this how relationships work nowadays?

a thought enters sungho’s mind.

hold on a second—

“anyway, i gotta go, dude. a pretty girl is waiting for me.”

—what if this date is a ploy for you to finally get the chance to kill him?

oh my god.

“wait!” sungho’s face is pale. his eyes are wide and frantic. “don’t—don’t go on the date!”

“hm?” jaehyun bats his eyes at him, taking a moment to think. then sparkles in realization. “oh! don’t worry. i’m not gonna show up looking like this. i’m gonna head home first to change.”

“that’s not the problem! jaehyun! no! no!”

this is it, his friend is going to die. that is, unless, he shows up on your date just in time to stop it. yes. there’s still a chance. he knows where the date is happening. he’s gonna tell the rest of them because there’s no way in hell they’d allow myung jaehyun’s cause of death to read stupidity by misconstruing your murderous intent as affection. they are not only going to save jaehyun’s life— but his dignity as well.

“remember, be quiet. be inconspicuous. they can’t figure out we’re here.”

hopefully, things go as planned this time. all five of them are gathered in a booth at the said thai restaurant, the eventual scene of the crime unless they do something about it. sungho is surveying the scene to find where you and jaehyun are seated. leehan nearly trips over his unnecessarily long trench coat while trying to cover more ground. woonhak is using the menu as cover but has since gotten distracted and has started to pick out his order with riwoo and taesan. “hyung, is the khao soi good?”

“yeah, we should order it.”

“what drinks should we get?”

this is hopeless. this is a mess. their best friend is about to die and all they can think about is dinner.

no matter. sungho can still take care of this himself. his eyes scan the main restaurant wing, from left to right, until his eyes double over in a screeching halt to the back of a very familiar round head—

“huh.”

the back of a very familiar round head that doesn’t seem to be facing the threat of decapitation.

sungho sees you and jaehyun sitting across from one another, jaehyun’s fairly loud voice raising over the music and utensils clattering, people chatting and passing by. “you’ve got something on your face.”

“touch my face, and i’ll kill y— hey!”

first of all, sungho wants to claw his own eyes out seeing his friend being disgustingly sweet. second, jaehyun did touch your face with a napkin and it does not seem like you’re attempting to murder him. in fact, you look flustered even. flushed despite the harbored glare, still seated despite your apparent derision and disgust. the back of jaehyun’s head looks exceedingly happy. the dots aren’t connecting. sungho is malfunctioning. 

“should…should we interfere…?” leehan asks, his nose barely peeking out of the trench coat collar.

“i think...i think we should just leave them alone.”

“but isn’t his life in danger?”

“i misunderstood.”

forget misunderstanding. sungho can’t even behind to understand in the first place and has settled that he wouldn’t even try so long as myung jaehyun is happy— happy with being on the receiving end of fuck you’s and go to hell’s in response to his you’re so pretty’s and see you tomorrow’s, happy with getting his advances swatted away and shut down, happy with whatever the fuck is going on between you and him that sungho really can’t just wrap his head around.

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[identitty-dickruption]

ocd really will convince you that you don’t actually have ocd and you’re just innately evil and then turn around and offer up the most ocd possible solution to this problem. and I just have to sit here and take it

[pretty-blkgirl]

Soul’s Desire [Ch. 33]

- Masterlist -

~~~~|~~~~

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell?”

“We can go back to the hospital if you need to”

“I swear to God I’ll get Eunji fired, she went too fucking far”

“Want some more food?”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“You sure you’re not concussed?”

“Security stopped me from going onstage when I saw you fall”

“You have a bruise on your arm”

Chan was nice enough to allow you some much-needed silence on the car ride to Han and Lee Know’s dorm, but as soon as you two stepped foot in the door, the other seven of your soulmates swarmed you.

Soon, eight worried men were surrounding you, offering food, questioning you, or ranting about how they were going to avenge you.

Han knew half the reason you were upset was because of the backlash you were getting, so that was the main topic after the boys ensured you were full and well-hydrated.

“This is so fucking frustrating” Felix, the usual peacemaker, seethed. You noticed he and Chan spoke English when they were pissed. Their accents were heavier than usual as they ranted to one another, offering solutions to your problems.

“Baby we’ll take care of this, don’t even worry about it” I.N sighed, giving you a look of sympathy

“How so? It’s not like you guys can tell people to stop talking shit about me”

“I can” Hyunjin shrugged, “And I will. Fuck my idol image, I’ll do whatever it takes to defend you”

You smile, “I appreciate that baby, but that’ll do more harm than good”

“A dating rumor will start. Dispatch will eat that shit right up” Seungmin noted, “Then she’ll get more hate. Then the company is involved, internal investigations, hiatuses maybe”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, his irritation apparent but he nodded, agreeing that speaking out may not be the best solution.

“All we can do is let this shit blow over. I mean, people are talking shit but I saw a bunch of Charms defending me”

“I’ve seen some Stays defending you too” Han pointed out, “Actually, anyone with sense is defending you”

“There shouldn’t be a need to defend her in the first place. People are mad because she had a medical emergency. That’s so stupid” Changbin ranted

“People are stupid” Chan sighed, frustration clear in his voice, “What do you wanna do y/nnie? How do you want to handle this?”

Eight pairs of eyes stared at you as you thought about the question. Really, what could you do?

“It can’t be helped” You conclude, “This is just… one of the downsides of being an idol. It sucks but I just gotta deal with it.”

“I’m so sorry baby” Felix frowns, tears welling up in his eyes. You dubbed Felix the “feeler” in the group. Whenever you felt like crying but you didn’t want to let those tears out, he’d do it for you. Same for if you wanted to laugh, or scream. He gave you that relief.

“I feel like we can at least get Eunji fired” Han groaned

“She said it was an accident, plus I can’t blame her entirely. I hadn’t eaten anything the entire day, part of it was my fault too”

“It wasn’t a damn accident” Changbin huffed, “And don’t blame yourself for anything. However, I’m gonna make it my mission to make sure you’re eating and drinking like you’re supposed to”

You nod, knowing when Changbin is serious about something, nothing is going to stop him from doing it.

“You know what? How about we all turn our phones off and just spend time together? No outside distractions, and especially no social media” Hyunjin suggested

Everyone agreed, but you made sure to send a message to your members and manager, letting them know your whereabouts.

I.N. ran to the kitchen and came back with a large plastic bowl. It had little cartoon cats on it, so you knew who it belonged to.

“Everyone put their phones in the bowl. We’re having a soulmate bonding night”

“You sound like Felix” Minho rolls his eyes but is the first to hand over his phone. The rest of you follow suit, with Hyunjin being the last one to do so.

“Let’s pop some popcorn and watch a movie” You suggest, “I’ll pick the movie”

“Nuh uh y/nnie” I.N. protests, “You have a habit of picking sad movies. We aren’t crying tonight”

“Let’s watch a scary movie,” Seungmin says

“Hell no” Chan and Felix seem to say at the same time

“Romance then” Hyunjin smiles

It’s you who sighs this time, “Hyunjin, please. You know I adore you, but nobody wants to see Titanic….again”

“I say we watch an Action Movie,” Changbin says excitedly, “Jurassic Park?”

“We watched that last time” Han whines

“Let’s just do a comedy” Minho grunts, grabbing the remote and picking a random streaming service

You all settle on a random movie you enjoy and the boys have never seen it.

The spacious living room was filled with laughter, sounds of sneaky kisses, and the crunching of popcorn as your movie marathon went on.

At some point, the movies stopped, and you all had sleepy conversations that lasted way longer than they should have.

Before you knew it though, you were curled up in Minho’s bed, wearing only a shirt you stole from his drawer.

You slept in a starfish position, leaving Minho to sneak off to Han’s room to get a chance at a comfortable night’s sleep.

The rest of the boys went to their respective dorms, all giving you a kiss goodnight before leaving.

You dreamt of sunny days and starry nights, lying on the grass with eight familiar faces huddled around you.

It was the best sleep you had gotten in years.

~~~~|~~~~

Taglist: @chuuyaobsessed @h0rnyp0t @prttyxbby @yukichan67 @hanniemylovelyquokka @xxeiraxx @loveforlee444 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @cunninglibrarian @holly-here @galaxy4489 @hyunmikim @yougottobekittenme @hyeon-yi @katsukis1wife @multi-fandom-nightmare @staybabblingbaby @kozumesphone @fuck-you-im-gae @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @champagneconfetti @juju-227592 @borahae-reads @reallychaoticwoo

[zigrethsnotebook]

[SHOULDER KISS]

Ford x Reader

words: 2,846

tags: sfw, toothrotting fluff, non-sexual nudity

a/n: this is so devastatingly self-indulgent,, pls don't judge me. But also, this is for all of you who said there aren't enough Ford fics out there <3

Winter. Snow was falling, but it wasn’t soft. The winds were strong and managed to blow snow in your face no matter which way you turned or how much you covered it up. This was supposed to be a short and simple hike through the woods with Ford. When you had left the house this morning it had been just that, with snow falling softly and all. But now the weather had turned like it held a grudge against you two personally.

The twins had decided to have a little break on their sea adventure for the holidays and while Stan decided to visit the kids and Shermie, Ford had decided to come home to you. Even Soos and his Abuelita had left to spend this time of the year with Melody and her family, meaning you and Ford had the Shack all to yourselves. It also meant that there was nobody home to make sure the Shack stayed warm while you two were out.

Finally, you had made it back to the Shack, and when Ford opened the door you quickly got inside, spreading snow across the floor. You shivered as you took off your snow-laden coat and shoes, the cold having seeped inside your very bones.

Ford wasn’t much better off - his nose and cheeks burned a bright red and his eyebrows and eyelashes had little white crystals hanging off of them. He was a human furnace of a man, but even he was shivering now, rubbing his hands along his arms to generate a little warmth.

“We need to warm up as quickly as possible, I don’t want to risk either of us getting hypothermia. You should go and take a hot bath while I’ll put more wood in the furnace so the house can warm back up. I’ll take a bath after you’re done.”

You shook your head. “Sorry, won’t work. While you were gone we had some problems with the hot water. Now there’s only enough hot water for one hot bath or shower at a time.”

“Oh.” Ford’s eyes darted around the room for a moment, trying to find a solution. “Then I guess I’ll just get some extra blankets and try to warm up like that.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Or you could just take the bath with me. That way we won’t risk either of us getting sick?”

You said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, Ford on the other hand could feel the heat rising to his face even more now, his turtleneck suddenly feeling a little tight around his neck. It wasn’t a secret that Ford was… uncomfortable when it came to nudity.

During your few months of relationship with the man the furthest you had gotten was one very fun make-out session where, in the heat of the moment, Ford had pulled your shirt over your head and immediately turned bright red at the sight of you. You had pulled him back in with a smile but when you tried to pull his turtleneck off of him as well he had pulled away, ending the moment abruptly.

You had tried to talk to him about it afterwards and he had confessed that he felt incredibly self-conscious about his own body after all the things Bill and his time hopping dimensions had done to it. After lots of kind words and soft kisses he had hugged you and shown you the scars around his wrists from the chains Bill had kept him in.

But none of that mattered now and you hoped he knew you wouldn’t think worse of him for any of it. You just wanted to make sure he wouldn’t get sick. “No. You go.” You could tell he was trying to sound determined, but his own shivering wouldn’t quite let him.

You shook your head. “You take a bath, I’ll get some blankets.” Ford looked at you with pleading eyes. “I won’t take a bath before you. Either we take one together-” You had to pause as a more intense shiver overcame you. You continued with chattering teeth. “-or I’ll take one after you.”

“But you just said-” The look on your face was unwavering, he couldn’t win this one. With a sigh he agreed. “Okay. You get the bath ready. I’ll take care of the furnace, then I’ll meet you there. Does that sound good?” You nodded and quickly made your way to the bathroom.

Ford felt silly for being afraid of your reaction to his body. He was a normal guy! Apart from the six fingers of course, but you had shown him again and again that you loved that part of him. Why would this be any different? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of all those negative thoughts as he placed another log in the fire.

With every step he now took towards the bathroom he could feel his heart hammering stronger and louder inside his chest. He was about to reach for the doorknob when he stilled in his movement. There was something he hadn’t even considered. He would also get to see you naked.

Ford’s cheeks, after having cooled down a little, now turned tomato red again. No. No, he couldn’t do this. He was just about to turn around when the door in front of him opened. “Ford? Why are you just standing there? Come in.” You gently took his hand that was still hanging outstretched in the air and guided him inside the room.

The bathroom had already begun to heat up a little through the warm water evaporating and filling the air. You quickly closed the door behind him, shivering again as you felt the fresh air entering the room. Ford just stood there, unable to move, just watching you as you moved around the room, getting shampoos and towels ready and finally turning off the water.

You turned to Ford. The crystals on his eyebrows and lashes had melted away, but his face was still flushed and he looked very tense. You moved over to him, gently put your hands on his arms and looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Ford. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. I want you to know that I’m as worried about your health as you are about mine, but if you leave now I won’t judge you for that or think any worse of you.”

One of your hands found his cheek and he instinctively leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and brought his own hand up to yours, moved it to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to your wrist. “I’ll stay.” You smiled and when he let go of your hand you moved back towards the bathtub, taking your sweatshirt off in one swift movement.

Ford watched your movements with awe. You turned to face him again and he struggled to focus on your eyes. It made you smile - you thought it was adorable how much he wanted to stay a true gentleman, even though you were more than okay with him checking you out properly.

“Suggestion: I get in first. Then, if you’re not comfortable with me seeing you naked I’ll close my eyes while you get in as well. How does that sound to you?” Ford couldn’t help but smile at how considerate you were and also admire you for your self-confidence. “Sounds perfect.”

You nodded and quickly started undressing further, looking forward to the warm water thawing your tense muscles. Ford quickly averted his eyes which earned him a quiet chuckle from you, but you didn’t say anything. When you were done, you carefully stepped inside the tub and sighed as the warm water engulfed your shivering body.

The way it was now the water reached to just above your nipples. But, knowing Ford, you had made sure to create enough foam, so you couldn’t see through the water, leaving just your shoulders and upwards visible. When Ford realized that you had settled into the tub he turned to face you again and you smiled an encouraging smile at him before closing your eyes.

Ford hesitated a moment but eventually found the courage to take off his turtleneck. His heart beat rapidly in his chest but when he pulled it over his head and realized your eyes were still closed he relaxed a little. He felt bad for not trusting you enough to see him shirtless while you trusted him enough to sit naked in front of him with your eyes closed. He took another deep breath to steady himself and took off the rest of his clothes.

After you heard what you assumed to be Ford’s pants dropping to the floor you lifted your arms out of the water and placed them on either side of the tub, inviting him in. You heard two footsteps and then felt the water moving slightly. It took all your concentration to keep your eyes closed, not because you wanted to gawk at him, but rather because you wanted to help him sit down safely without hurting either of you.

You managed though, and soon enough Ford sat between your legs in the bathtub. A deep sigh left Ford’s lips as well, as he felt the warm water around his cold skin. He was careful not to lean too far back, trying desperately to touch you as little as possible. When he was as comfortable as he could get, he spoke up again in a tiny voice. “You can open your eyes now.”

The sight in front of you made your heart flutter. It felt so domestic somehow. His gray hair and strong shoulders in front of you - all you wanted to do was reach out, pull him close and never let go. But you restrained yourself, you had to go at his pace. For a moment you just admired him, studied all the scars and tattoos you hadn’t seen before and committed them to memory.

“Please say something.” Ford’s voice didn’t quite manage to break you out of your trance. “I love you.” As soon as the words left your mouth you froze. You didn’t mean to say that - you had never said this to each other before. “Sorry, I don’t know wh-” “I love you, too.”

You were shocked, to say the least, your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your ribcage. With Ford facing forward you couldn’t look at him, but you could tell from the red of his ears that he was blushing. You bit your bottom lip as you tried to anticipate whether or not your next words would ruin the moment. “Can I touch you?”

His breathing picked up its pace and he nodded. Slowly, you lifted one of your hands from the side of the bathtub and moved it to his shoulder. Ford’s breath hitched when your skin touched his. You let your thumb draw slow, soothing circles on his skin and after a few seconds you heard Ford let out a long breath, relaxing a little.

After a few moments like that you slowly let your hand wander up his shoulder until your fingers came into contact with one of his scars and you could feel Ford tense under your touch. With a feather-like softness you let your fingers trace the scar. “Bill.” Was the only word he managed to get out. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” You assured him and he relaxed under your touch again.

A few more moments passed with your one hand tracing gentle patterns on his shoulder, until Ford raised his other arm out of the water and put it on top of your other arm. He took your hand and slowly moved it forward, pulling you along with it. You didn’t protest as you felt him wrap your arm around himself, holding it against his chest and gently kissing your knuckles.

This gave you the perfect opportunity to gently pull him towards you, encouraging him to lean into your chest, while never stopping the soothing strokes of his shoulder with your other hand. A smile formed on your face when you both had settled into a comfortable position, his back to your chest and your head looking over his shoulder.

You stayed like that for a couple of minutes, neither of you saying a word, just enjoying the moment.

You looked downward just enough to look at his shoulder and then leaned down, pressing a loving kiss to your boyfriend’s skin. Ford gasped, not expecting the sensation, but quickly relaxing into it. You could stay like this forever.

After some more time enjoying this moment, you noticed the water losing some of its warmth. Ford noticed this as well. “We should probably start getting ready soon.” He said but didn’t move an inch. You chuckled lightly. “Yeah…”

You took a deep breath, taking in as much of this moment as you could. “Do you want me to wash your hair?” Even with all that’s happened to lead you up to this point, Ford blushed again. It was adorable. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I-If you want to?”

With a smile on your lips you gently guided him into a more horizontal position, cupped some water in your hand and let it flow over his head. Once his hair was sufficiently wet you grabbed a bottle of shampoo and put some on your hands before messaging it into his hair. Ford's eyes fluttered shut and he practically melted into your touch. You loved to see him so relaxed and it filled you with pride to know that you were the cause for this.

After you had rinsed his hair with water he was about to sit up straight again but you stopped him. “Your hair needs conditioner.” He didn’t protest and let you go through the same motions again. “I could get used to this…” Ford breathed the words out and you almost didn’t catch them. But when they registered in your mind your heart swelled with affection for the man.

“All done.” Your voice made him open his eyes and sit back up. He was no longer leaning against your chest and you noticed that the foam was starting to dissolve. You could see a little more of his back now, but you tried not to stare.

“I-ehm…” Ford started but didn’t know how to voice his question. You understood him though. “How about I close my eyes for you to get out and then I face the wall to wash my own hair while you get dressed?” Ford chuckled lightly, the tension of having to ask an uncomfortable question immediately lifted by your genuine respect for his boundaries.

“They’re closed,” you told him and he stood up, got out and wrapped himself in a towel. As soon as you heard both of his feet hit the ground you turned in the tub and faced the wall, presenting Ford your back. You wet your own hair and when you were reaching backwards for the shampoo bottle you couldn’t reach it. Seems like you didn’t think this one through fully.

“Here.” You felt the bottle gently hit your hand and took it from him. While you were busy washing your hair, Ford realized that neither of you had brought any fresh clothes into the bathroom. He quickly left to get some for himself and then some for you as well. When he came back you were just putting conditioner into your hair.

“I brought you some clothes as well.” You halted. “I knew I forgot something. Thank you.” Ford chuckled and quickly got dressed into some fresh pants and a different red turtleneck. When he was done you were just about to stand up. Ford picked up the towel and held it in front of himself. You stood up, your back still facing him, and he wrapped his arms around you and the towel along with it.

Ford pressed a chaste kiss to the nape of your neck before letting go of you. “I’ll make us both a hot chocolate.” You just hummed in response.

When you stepped out of the bathroom the house felt warm again and the smell of hot chocolate filled the air. You let the smell guide you to the kitchen where you found Ford. Your arms snaked around his waist, hugging him from behind and you nuzzled your face into his turtleneck.

When he was done preparing the drinks he turned around in your arms, cupping your face in his hands. “What have I done to deserve you?” He sighed dreamily and you smiled a crooked grin at him. “You made us hot chocolate!” You both chuckled and took the drinks to the living room where you both settled into the old recliner.

Once the drinks were emptied and you were just about to drift off into sleep in his arms, you heard Ford whisper in your ear.

“Thank you.”

[aebinspa]

tell me somethin' i don't know

PAIRING: gunwook x y/n reader

GENRES: fluff, gunwook is your brother's best friend (of course gyuvin is your brother), reader is a bit shy, they are the same age, reader is bad at math and gunwook is actually the solution to her problems!

WORD COUNT: 0.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! i wrote this very short part about gunwook on the train and it will be the last thing i post for a while! i have already started to use my time to write a medium-length fic about karina that i hope will be better than the others i have written :) have a nice day!

The room of Gunwook, your brother's best friend, was strangely clean. Even after looking for several minutes in every corner, to then accuse him of something, you couldn’t find anything. The room was small but welcoming and on one side there was the enormous desk, with the books you would need for revision.

Sure, you didn’t hate Gunwook, but finding yourself suddenly, from one day to the next, at the house of one of Gyuvin’s most popular friends wasn’t exactly relaxing. Your brother Gyuvin certainly had everything a woman or a man could be interested in, but once you got to know him you couldn’t help but notice that he was missing something: a bit of tact.

“Y/n, you’re already here, ah” Gunwook, surprised, entered the room and closed the door behind him. Gunwook was popular, too popular for your tastes. You were the same age, you attended the same school but not the same section. The desperate sighs and screams you heard when you passed in front of his classroom, always surrounded by fans, made you turn on your heels every time.

If you had to describe your relationship with him, perhaps you would have reduced it to those greetings you sometimes exchanged when your eyes met. Nothing more. Except for one small detail: you too, like many others, found him extremely attractive and, on several occasions, he had shown you that he was kinder than Gyuvin’s other friends.

“Mathematics doesn't really get into your head, does it?” a bright smile almost made you regret not being very good with numbers. “Yeah. And Gyuvin decided to make my problem your problem, too,” you said, emphasizing the “your,” and the young man laughed. “We’ll show Gyuvin that the two of us are better than two Gyuvins.” This time it was you who laughed. “We are, without a doubt.”

Gunwook spent the next three hours explaining to you in detail everything you didn’t understand and, when necessary, he stopped to let you take a break. Sometimes your hands would touch and your breathing would synchronize; you tried desperately not to make it obvious that you weren’t indifferent to that closeness. Once you finished reviewing all the notes you had brought with you, you thanked Gunwook with a weak “thank you” to which he responded with a huge smile full of warmth.

“Well, Gyuvin didn't do anything wrong in calling me to help you.” “Sometimes he knows how to make himself useful!” you replied a little too enthusiastically, immediately ending up embarrassed by your own words. “Y/n, whenever you want, I’m always willing to give you a hand” “You don’t have to” You accidentally met your gaze in the nearby mirror and noticed the redness on your cheeks. What an idiot I am.

“Let me put it this way.” Gunwook settled back in his chair and took your hands in his, causing you to yelp a little, to which the boy responded by tilting his head and laughing, whispering “How stupid you are.” “Um, tell me.” “Next time, let’s go to a nice coffee shop to study or the library. Anywhere you like. I have an overwhelming urge to take you out on a date.” Your head was spinning a little, so you held his hands tighter as if seeking support.

“Maybe you got the wrong girl” That toothy smile didn't seem to leave Gunwook's face. “I don’t think that’s possible. I, well,” Gunwook ran his hand through his hair, “I need to get to know you better. Every time I talk to you or simply look at you my heart does flips. I don't know how I got through today's lesson without kissing or touching you."

"Oh, okay" “Is it a yes, Y/n?” Gunwook was now closer than expected. “Yes, I feel the same so how could I say no to you?” You were the same color as a tomato. Gunwook came closer and closed the distance between you by giving you a chaste and sweet kiss. You responded with a huff.

“You’re good with women” “Tell me something I don’t know, Y/n”

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dan Pfeiffer at The Message Box:

Poring through the aftermath of a brutal defeat, Democrats are now in their worst position in at least 20 years. Republicans have the White House and the Senate and an excellent chance to capture the House. Trump is only the second Republican since 1988 to win the popular vote, and he made huge gains across the country, building a multi-racial working-class coalition.

For many of you, I imagine this is painful to read. Trust me. It is even more painful to write. Most of my career has been spent within the machinery of the Democratic Party. I worked in the White House and Senate leadership. I worked for Democratic governors and other party organizations. It pains me to see the party in this state of disfavor only eight years after Barack Obama left the White House. The coalition that Obama built has crumbled. There are millions of reasons why we are in this position — COVID, inflation, an unpopular President, several political miscalculations, and a failure to adapt to a changed media environment. Ultimately, I am less interested in how we got into this mess than in how we get out of it.

The press continues to second-guess and Monday-morning quarterback various tactical decisions of the Harris campaign. I am also not particularly interested in that debate. Two things can be true at the same time. Kamala Harris ran a great campaign in a brutal political environment under an impossible timeline, and Democrats just got their ass kicked by a failed President and convicted criminal who could have been sentenced to jail if he lost the election. Where Democrats go from here is a conversation that will be an ongoing part of this newsletter in the months to come. There is no singular or simple answer, and many strawman arguments are being offered up on Twitter and cable. The solution is more complex than being more left or centrist or less woke. I don’t have the answers. Like the rest of you, I am still processing what happened on Tuesday. As part of my personal therapy, I wanted to do a bit of brain dump on the road ahead for Democrats as we confront another four years of Trump.

1. Recognize the Scale of the Problem

On one level, Trump’s win isn’t that big. His popular vote margin will end up being lower than Hillary Clinton’s when she lost the Presidency. This was far from a landslide. It looks nothing like Reagan’s victories in 1980 and 1984 or Obama’s win in 2008. But we shouldn’t sugarcoat the size and scope of Trump’s victory. Trump improved on his 2020 performance nearly everywhere in the country and with every type of voter. There was a six-point shift to the right in the country from 2020. Trump did 10 points better in Democratic strongholds like New York, New Jersey, and Rhode Island. He gained ground with men, women, Latinos, Black voters, and voters under 30. If the GOP can maintain that coalition post-Trump, Democrats will have no shot at the White House or the Senate for the foreseeable future. We are in a deep hole, and because of that, it is essential that we contemplate radical solutions about how we communicate, campaign, and govern. Every option should be on the table and every prior should be questioned. Yes, it was a brutal political environment, but this failure was a long time in the making.

2. Understand Why We Keep Losing on the Economy

Post-COVID inflation is the biggest factor in this election. It’s why incumbent parties all over the world have been getting slaughtered in election after election. It’s almost impossible to win an election when, according to the exit polls, 68% of voters rate the economy negatively, 75% say inflation caused them harm, and only 24% of voters say their financial situation is better off than four years ago. But if Democrats just blame inflation for voter distrust on the economy, we will be whistling past the graveyard. Democrats have lost economically-focused voters in every election since 2012. Even in the 2018 and 2022 midterms, which saw huge Democratic gains, we lost the voters who said the economy was their top issue by an average of 36 points!

President Biden passed a bunch of very consequential and popular policies. Yet, his ratings on the economy worsened over time. While I think we should revisit our policy agenda to look for new, bolder ideas that better speak to people’s concerns, this is largely not a policy problem. It’s a brand problem. When you do a blind taste test, our policies are more popular. This is why ballot initiatives like raising the minimum wage and allowing collective bargaining often pass in very Red states where Democrats have no chance of winning elected office. On economic issues, Democrats have a cultural problem; regardless of our policies, voters in the toughest economic situations simply don’t think Democrats care about them, and they haven’t since Barack Obama left office. Republicans have done an excellent job — with some inadvertent help from Democrats — branding our party as the party of elites even though the GOP standard bearer is a wannabe billionaire who offers tax cuts to other billionaires in exchange for campaign contributions. There is little question that we would benefit from more full-throated populism.

3. Close the Communications Chasm

Democrats are losing the information war. Trump and the Republicans are relentlessly communicating their narrative to a wide swath of the electorate, while Democrats are mostly still playing by an old set of rules. The Right is dominating the information space. In the battleground states where Democrats could spend more than a billion dollars communicating to voters on TV and digital platforms, Trump gained three points over his 2020 performance. In the rest of the country, which saw no paid Democratic messaging, Trump gained six points. This means that Democrats got absolutely battered in earned and social media. An average American who just turned on their TV or unlocked their phone or tablet was getting much more pro-Trump and anti-Democratic messaging. This situation is not unique to the Harris campaign. It’s been a problem for Democrats for more than a decade. Democrats cannot reach the wide swath of voters who don’t actively consume political news. According to polling from Data for Progress, here’s the statistics showing how people voted based on the amount they paid attention to political news:

a great deal: Harris +8

a lot: Harris +5

a moderate amount: Trump +1

a little: Trump +8 -

none at all: Trump +15

If you read the New York Times or watch CNN, Democrats know how to reach you. The problem is that we already have those voters. It's very clear that most of Democratic communications is a circular conversation with the people who already agree with us on everything. The rest of the electorate can’t hear us. They are getting no countervailing information to counter the Right Wing caricature of Democrats. Because of Fox News and other Right Wing outlets, Republicans have long had an asymmetric media advantage. However, in recent years, Right Wing messaging has come to dominate non-political online spaces centered on topics like comedy, gaming, gambling, and wellness.

Most Democrats continued running the same communications playbook for the entire Trump era despite massive changes in the media ecosystem. We haven’t incubated our progressive political media enough nor have we been willing to go into the non-political spaces where the most critical segment of voters are getting their info.

Dan Pfeiffer has yet another home run column on how the Democrats can roar back from their shock 2024 losses.

[thunderingreign]

The solution is to build up power inside our local communities outside of capitalism by getting involved with (or starting) an organization seeking to do that. We have to look to Leftist organizers for guidance. We have to look to historical Leftist strikes, resistances, and rebellions and learn from them, critically sifting through the actions of the past in order to not make the same mistakes.

“Be A Revolution: How Everyday People are Changing the World and You Can Too” by Ijeoma Oluo is an AWESOME book to read if you are feeling hopeless, drained, or are looking for how to start. One thing Oluo helped me with was realizing how capitalist-fucked my imagination was— every solution I could think of was a half-measure and I always felt overwhelmingly unsatisfied at the progress that my imagined solution could affect. Once you realize how powerful imagination is, you realize how we need to weaponize it as a means of deradicalizing people out of the death cults of fascism and capitalism, and you realize just how possible that really is. The first thing you’ll need to do when organizing is convincing other people to have hope— which is to imagine a better future.

Oluo also relays a LOT of accounts of how specific people went about starting organizations in response to the terrible conditions they were experiencing. There are men who are working against the patriarchy in prison— teaching their fellow men about how they’ve been trapped in a cage of toxic masculinity before ever being imprisoned. There are people dedicated to teaching about hierarchy and the functions of oppression. I haven’t finished it yet but the accounts I’ve read so far have changed everything for me.

So, what can you do?

First off:

Take care of yourself. You matter in so many ways to the cause— more than what you can do to make change, you are a beacon for people around you. You are a lover, a friend, a comrade. We must care for ourselves because we are loved and valued and losing us will only add to the despair people are already contending with. We must remind ourselves and each other that people are relying on us and not better off if we’re gone.

Focus on the humanity of the people around you. Are you surrounded by republicans? Focus on your mutual interests and don’t assert your differences— people will work with you while still calling themselves conservatives, so take advantage of that. You don’t have to be friends with everyone in the movement, even if having friends already engaging in direct action makes it way easier to do so yourself. Remember our goal is not ideological purity— it’s affecting change and change is all about numbers.

Keep moving further Left and continue questioning authority. These problems have been going on for hundreds of years, and they were never going to be solved by a system that exists to arbitrarily prevent people from access to human needs. We must look to the people who have already been in the fight rather than continue deferring to politicians.

If you’re able:

Volunteer at any local organization that is providing food or shelter— even if they are conservative, volunteer. Having that volunteer experience can help you see how those organizations are structured and who in your community is being failed by them.

Start an org for needs that aren’t being met in your local community. Start as small as you can, even as simple as starting a community garden in your backyard. It will snowball if it is helping people.

Find a spot to set up a free store. We all have stuff we don’t need anymore, instead of selling it or giving it to a thrift store, give it away to someone.

Print posters and zines and hand them out outside of high schools. We need to be engaging in tactics that work to bring young people further left and a part of that is simply informing them.

And since this is not a comprehensive list, continue seeking out radical solutions from authors and activists who have dedicated their whole life to studying and explaining. Look to the people who have been doing grass-roots organizing for years.

If you’re disabled:

spread information about how oppression functions and how to organize an assembly— you can explain to people who don’t have the time to study or who have a learning disability that make it difficult to parse the thousands of words that are used in explanation. Synthesizing info so that it is accessible to all is CRITICAL

start an artist coalition with friends and make provocative art that makes people think twice about all this shit. People are not aware of what their options are. They are also just trying to survive under capitalism.

share your knowledge on essential skills with your friends (gardening, opsec/infosec, conflict resolution, etc.) There are people who are working in these orgs that could use the expertise that you have.

Books on my TBR that could be helpful:

They Will Beat the Memory Out of Us: Forcing Nonviolence on Forgetful Movements by Peter Gelderloos

The Solutions are Already Here: Strategies for Ecological Revolution from Below by Peter Gelderloos

Beyond Cop Cities: Dismantling State and Corporate-Funded Armies and Prisons edited by Joy James

Renters Unite: How Tenant Unions Are Fighting the Housing Crisis by Jacob Stringer

Against Technoableism: Rethinking Who Needs Improvement by Ashley Shew

Let This Radicalize You: Organizing and the Revolution of Reciprocal Care by Mariame Kaba, Kelly Hayes, Maya Schenwar

Surviving the Future: Abolitionist Queer Strategies by Shuli Branson, Raven Hudson, Bry Reed

We Do This 'Til We Free Us: Abolitionist Organizing and Transforming Justice by Mariame Kaba, Tamara K Nopper, Naomi Murakawa

Becoming Abolitionists: Police, Protests, and the Pursuit of Freedom by Derecka Purnell

Unbuild Walls: Why Immigrant Justice Needs Abolition by Silky Shah, Amna A Akbar

A People's Guide to Abolition and Disability Justice by Katie Tastrom

is this fucking SATIRE??????????????????????

[theoutcastrogue]

Bounded Accuracy, why it was necessary, and why it doesn't have to apply to skills

"Why Bounded Accuracy?", by Justin Alexander

"Let’s start by talking about bounded accuracy. Endless ink has been spilt on this topic, but I think one of the clearest way to understand bounded accuracy — what it is, why it works the way it does, how it’s supposed to be used — is to look at the design lineage which created it.

To do that, we need to go back about twenty years to the development of the Epic Level Handbook for 3rd Edition. The concept was to extend play past 20th level, allowing players to continue leveling up their characters forever.

The big problem the designers faced was that different classes gained bonuses to core abilities — attacks, saving throws, etc. — at different rates, which meant that their values diverged over time. By 20th level, the highest and lowest bonuses had already diverged so much that the difference exceeded the range of the d20 roll. This meant that any AC or DC you set would either be an automatic success for some PCs or impossible for others.

The designers of the Epic Level Handbook tried jumping through a whole bunch of hoops to solve or ameliorate this problem, but largely failed. As a result, the Epic Level Handbook was a pretty flawed experience at a fundamental level (and its failure may have actually played a major role in Wizards of the Coast abandoning the OGL and the doom of 4th Edition, but that’s a tale for another time)."

[The Rogue notes: I think the big problem with 3.5 was that the breaking of the d20 roll (where the AC or DC you set could be auto-fail for some and auto-success for others) happened LONG before epic levels, if players made characters with different levels of optimisation. Which was sometimes a result of, well, studying, pouring through splatbooks and looking up combos on the internet, but other times it just happened, without any effort. Some classes had to jump through hoops to keep up with the rest, and that was bad.]

"On that note, fast forward to 4th Edition: The designers knew this was a problem. (Several of the designers had actually worked on the Epic Level Handbook.) They wanted to avoid this problem with the new edition.

Their solution was to level up everyone’s bonuses across the board: Classes would be strong at some things and weak at others, but the values wouldn’t diverge. This methodology was, furthermore, wedded to 4th Edition’s design ethos of “level up the whole world with the PCs” and more or less fundamental to its My Precious Encounter school of encounter design.

Fast forward again, this time to 5th Edition: The 4th Edition of the game had burned down, fell over, and then sank into the swamp, and 5th Edition’s mission was to win back the D&D players they had lost. The whole “level up the world” ethos was widely identified as one of the things people who hated 4th Edition hated about 4th Edition, so it had go.

Bounded accuracy was the solution. Importantly, bounded accuracy was about two things:

Controlling AC & DC so that the target numbers never become impossible for some of the PCs.

Controlling bonuses so that the results don’t become automatic successes for some of the PCs.

In other words, all of the results exist within that boundary. Hence, “bounded accuracy.”

If you go back to the original problem experienced in 3rd Edition (and which metastasized in the Epic Level Handbook), you can see how this solves the problem. It also avoids the 4th Edition problem where your numbers get bigger, but your results never actually improve because the numbers increase in lockstep: As long as the DCs remain consistently in bounds, the moderate increases to the PCs’ bonuses will see them succeed more often as they increase in level, resulting in high-level characters who feel (and are!) more effective than 1st level characters."

– Justin Alexander | The Alexandrian, September 2022

Commentary: Bounded Accuracy and Skills

This very well-written summary was part of an article roasting the 5e skill system, and specifically arguing that Expertise is bad because it breaks Bounded Accuracy, and Reliable Talent makes it worse. And with this, I disagree.

I think that Bounded Accuracy is excellent for combat's standard rolls: attack vs AC, and saving throw vs DC. That's when you need numbers that challenge the whole party: some characters may have a better chance than others, sure, but the d20 roll doesn't become irrelevant because this one is guaranteed to succeed and that one is doomed to fail.

But for otherwise interacting with the world, I actually don't think the numbers need to challenge the whole party. I think immersion and simulation (I like these!) are better served by making such challenges tricky. Occasionally they will be too easy for some, and/or too hard for others, depending on where the characters focused their training. And when that happens, it's up to the party to figure out ways to make up for it, to look for other, creative solutions rather than get stuck on a skill check that one or more of them are doomed to fail, and in the end to acknowledge that some tasks are suited for only some of them.

So maybe half the party auto-failing to scale that wall means they need to find another way in, or use their spells, or have the athletic ones climb up and throw down a knotted rope. That's good! It's a complication that requires a solution other than rolling a single check! Maybe only the Wizard (with 2024 rules) has a chance of making that extreme Arcana check about a long lost artifact. That's great! It makes sense and it's immersive, they should be the only one able to make it. And maybe, if your goal is to stealthily scout ahead, don't send forth the clanging armoured warriors, only send the sneaky rogues. That's fantastic! It's basic tactics! What's not to like?

I have BIG beefs with the 5e skill system, on account that it's half-baked (and 5.5 is somehow even less baked), and doesn't give details or DCs even for the most bog-standard skill uses that you expect to come up at every campaign. A generic DC table from very easy to nearly impossible is great as a guideline for niche cases, and crazy things the players came up with. But things like climbing walls and picking pockets should come with instructions and numbers. As is, the DM is either winging it every time and the players are in the dark, or the DM is doing the designers' work for them, and homebrewing DC tables for everything. But bounded accuracy is not the problem here, imo.

[nyxshadowhawk]

I Read The Silmarillion So You Don't Have To, Part Nine

Previous part.

Chapter 20: Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad In which Maedhros tries and fails to get the Elves to play nice, and then a battle goes very badly.

This chapter begins with a quick account of what happened to Beren and Lúthien. They are restored to life, and briefly check in on Lúthien’s parents in Menegroth. It had been eternal winter in the forest of Doriath since Lúthien died, but Lúthien brings spring with her. When Melian sees her daughter, it’s like seeing a ghost. Melian feels the most horrible grief that anyone has ever felt in the history of the world, because Lúthien is mortal now. The Elves call Beren and Lúthien “The Dead that Live,” because there’s something deeply unnatural about coming back from the Halls of Mandos. All the Elves are unsettled by them, so Beren and Lúthien go off on their own, into the east of Beleriand. They have a son, Dior Aranel, but beyond that, the Elves never hear of them again. Presumably they live out their natural lives, but no one knows when they died or where they’re buried

That’s the end of that story! Now, let’s return to the Main Plot. Maedhros, the oldest of Fëanor’s sons (the one who lost a hand) has been thinking up new ways to fight Morgoth. Fingolfin proved that Morgoth is not invincible — he can be hurt, so maybe he can be killed, or at least incapacitated enough to stop causing trouble. However, the Noldor don’t stand a chance unless they can band together and fight Morgoth as a unified front. Maedhros tries to call all the Elves together in a council.

Maedhros by @kazz-art

(Fun fact: According to a YouTube video called “Types of Lord of the Rings Fans” by Generic Entertainment, “Maedhros” is composed of Sindarin words meaning “shapely” and “red-haired,” so it basically means “hot ginger.”)

Of course, the problem is that the Elves have never been unified, and they’re not about to start now. Fëanor’s sons (save Maedhros himself) hate basically everybody, and their shenanigans have burned too many bridges:

Orodreth is now king of Nargothrond after Finrod died, and he says that he’s never going to trust a son of Fëanor ever again. After Celegorm and Curufin’s attempted coup, who can blame him? A small group from Nargothrond, led by an Elf named Gwindor, come to aid Maedhros — but they go behind the king’s back.

Doriath is even more of a lost cause. King Thingol now has a Silmaril, and you know what that means — all of Fëanor’s sons (including Maedhros) are his enemies by default. Melian advises Thingol to surrender the Silmaril, just… y’know… to take that problem off their hands. But Thingol is offended by the Fëanorians’ arrogance, and he’s still very mad at Celegorm and Curufin for trying to steal his daughter. The Silmarils are also kind of like the One Ring, in that anyone who looks at them becomes obsessive and wants to keep them. So, instead of actually listening to his wife for once, Thingol sends the Fëanorians a note that says the Elvish equivalent of “come at me, bro.”

Maedhros carefully ignores Thingol’s threat, because he’s really trying to get everyone to work together. But those two assholes Celegorm and Curufin send Thingol a declaration of war. Thingol fortifies his kingdom and then just stays there, because his solution to everything is to isolate himself behind a magic wall and hope the danger doesn’t touch him. (That worked when Morgoth was a general threat to everybody, but not so much when other Elves want to kill Thingol specifically.) Thingol’s right-hand men, Mablung and Beleg, want no part in whatever shit is inevitably going to go down between Thingol and Fëanor’s sons. So, they’re given permission to leave Doriath (provided they don’t go to serve any of Fëanor’s sons). They go to Hithlum to serve Fingon, and then after that, no one enters or leaves Doriath.

(I know, I know, I already used it!)

But Maedhros has a few unexpected sources of help. He manages to enlist the Dwarves, who have lots of weapons and the means to make them, and he also has the Men on his side. All of them want Morgoth gone as much as anybody (and they haven’t been given any reason to hate Fëanor’s sons yet). Maedhros also has Fingon’s support, because Fingon still loves Maedhros as much as he did back when he rescued Maedhros from the cliff face.

The Night before Nirnaeth Arnoediad, by @pansen1802

The only faction that remains unaccounted for is Gondolin, because it’s the only kingdom that’s even more isolated than Doriath. News of Maedhros’ attempt at unity reaches Gondolin, but King Turgon still refuses to do anything.

Maedhros’ force is smaller than he’d hoped, but better than nothing. It’s enough to get rid of most of the Orcs in northern Beleriand, and it might be enough to try assaulting Angband yet again. Maybe this time it’ll work! Unfortunately, Morgoth knew they were coming. Before the battle even starts, Maedhros’ and co.’s chances are looking bleak. But at the last minute, the cavalry comes! Turgon finally decided to actually do something, and sent a host of ten thousand Elves from Gondolin to help. Fingon is overjoyed to have seen the first sign of his brother’s existence for centuries. He sends up a battle cry in Quenya. Morale is good! There’s a nice moment in which Fingon and Turgon briefly reunite on the battlefield.

The Battle of Unnumbered Tears, by Mysilvergreen

Unfortunately, it’s all downhill from there. This battle is called Nirnaeth Arnoediad, “the Battle of Unnumbered Tears,” so that should tell you everything you need to know. Fingon’s host retreats, the Men from the Forest of Brethil are nearly wiped out, and then there’s betrayal. This whole time, Morgoth had been trying to wage a psychological battle amongst the Elves and Men, sewing distrust amongst them and making it even harder for Maedhros to get them to come together. “Divide and conquer” has worked well in the past, and it works again here. A man named Ulfang and his sons suddenly turn against Maedhros. Maedhros’ host is cornered, and they’re forced to retreat.

The most steadfast fighting force in the battle turns out to be the Dwarves. If it weren’t for them, the Elves and Men would have been annihilated by Glaurung and the other dragons. A Dwarven lord named Azaghâl manages to stab Glaurung in the underbelly, which wounds him, but doesn’t kill him.

Finally, Gothmog, the Lord of Balrogs, comes out of Angband. He corners Fingon with another Balrog. Fingon fights valiantly, but no one can hold out against the Lord of Balrogs for long. Gothmog cuts Fingon in half with a greataxe. The Elves say that a white flame burst from Fingon’s helmet as it was cloven.

The Final Battle in Unnumbered Tears by breath-art

The battle’s basically over after that. Turgon holds out with the brothers Húrin and Huor to ensure that Morgoth doesn’t win the Pass of Sirion and take control of the river. Húrin tells Turgon to flee, because he’s the last hope for the Elves’ survival. But Turgon recognizes that by sending help, he revealed to Morgoth that Gondolin exists. It won’t take him long to find Gondolin and destroy it. Húrin tells Turgon that Gondolin will still be a beacon of hope for however long it continues to last, and says goodbye, knowing that they won’t see each other again.

Maeglin, Turgon’s nephew (the edgy Elf) is fighting nearby. He hears Húrin say that Gondolin is a beacon of hope, tucks it away in his mind, and says nothing. Ominous.

Turgon retreats, but the Men remain to hold the pass. Tolkien writes that, of all the deeds of Men that were performed for the sake of Elves, this is the most renowned. Some Men betray the Elves, but most of the Men continue to fight for them. Huor and all of the other Men die; Húrin is the last man standing. Húrin yells “Day shall come again!” every time he kills a monster, but the Orcs just keep coming, and they continue to fight him even after he cuts off their arms.

Exactly like this.

Eventually, Húrin is captured alive.

Morgoth is very pleased with himself for having engineered a betrayal. The Elves no longer completely trust the Men, except for the Three Houses that became their friends. Now that Fingon is dead, his realm of Hithlum is completely destroyed. The remaining Noldor of Hithlum (and there aren’t many) scatter, and join the Wood Elves of the East. Living in forests and using guerilla tactics are way less noble than having cities and fighting in armies. The Haladin, the Men of the Forest of Brethil, are also greatly reduced. They never see any member of their host again, or learn what happened to them. Morgoth shuts the treacherous Men in what’s left of Hithlum, forbidding them to leave it, which pisses them off because they wanted to rule Beleriand. Welp, that’s what you get for being a traitor.

One of the only safe places left in Beleriand is the Havens at the mouth of the River Sirion, but Morgoth is eventually able to ransack the Havens using machines with engines (remember, Tolkien thinks industrialization is evil). A handful of Elves, led by Círdan and Gil-galad, manage to escape by sea. The keep a foothold at the mouths of Sirion, but for the most part, Morgoth controls the river.

The situation is so dire that Turgon reaches out to Círdan from Gondolin. He wants to again try to send messengers across the sea to Valinor. Círdan builds ships and sends them west, but again, none of them return… except one. That ship turned back, and sank in a storm within sight of Middle-earth’s coast. One Elf from that ship survives, and he’s ferried to shore by Ulmo, the Vala of Water himself

Although Morgoth won decisively, he’s still not happy -- he wants to capture Turgon, and has no idea where he is. Turgon is the last remaining son of Fingolfin, and therefore the rightful High King of the Noldor. Morgoth’s hatred of the House of Fingolfin is personal, because Fingolfin wounded him, and because they’re friends with Ulmo the Vala. Morgoth also got bad vibes from Turgon all the way back in Valinor. He intuited that Turgon was destined to help destroy him.

Morgoth knows that Húrin is friends with Turgon, and Húrin is his prisoner. He demands that Húrin tell him where Turgon is, but Húrin tells him where he can stick it. In response, Morgoth binds Húrin to a chair on top of Thangorodrim, and curses him and all of his offspring. Morgoth tells Húrin that despair and sorrow will come to everyone he loves. To stick the knife in and twist it, Morgoth gives Húrin a taste of his own power to see the future, and forces him to remain sitting in that chair until all of his family have met their doom. Húrin does not beg for mercy for himself or any of his kin. He won’t give Morgoth the satisfaction.

Morgoth punishes Húrin by Ted Nasmith

As a final insult, Morgoth has the Orcs build a giant mount of bodies in the middle of the battlefield. The Elves call it the Hill of the Slain and the Hill of Tears. But after a while, grass and flowers grow on the bodies of the dead.

The Hill of the Slain by Ted Nasmith

Chapter 21: Of Túrin Turambar, Part 1. In which our angsty tragic hero tries to outrun his curse, kills people he shouldn’t, sleeps with people he shouldn’t, and fights a dragon.

This is the second of the Great Tales, also called “The Children of Húrin.” I’ve heard that this is one of the most tragic stories in the entire Tolkien Legendarium (which is saying a lot), so brace yourselves! This is going to be another two-parter, because I ran out of space.

Instead of jumping right into the story, Tolkien gives us an account of what happened to Húrin and Huor’s wives, Morwen and Rían. Rían is dead. Huor and Rían’s son is Tuor, and Húrin and Morwen’s son is Túrin. Húrin and Morwen also had a daughter, Lalaith, but she died of disease when she was three. After the battle, the Easterlings (evil Men working for Morgoth, they’re already called that) ransack Hithlum. They enslave everybody except Morwen, because she’s just so beautiful. They assume that she’s a witch, “in league with the Elves.” Despite their fear of her, Morwen decides that her son is not safe, and sends Túrin to Thingol. Morwen is Beren’s distant cousin, so she hopes that Thingol will take Túrin in. After Túrin is sent away, Morwen gives birth to a third child, a daughter named Nienor (which means “mourning.” That’s not ominous at all). Thingol accepts Túrin into his household, because he doesn’t hate Men as much as he used to, and raises him as his own son.

Germanic Fun Fact #1: It was actually a common practice in the early Middle Ages that noble children would be fostered by other families, and it shows up in fiction. For example, Beowulf was fostered by King Hrethel of the Geats, making him a de facto prince.

Túrin lives in Thingol’s court for nine years, and messengers occasionally bring him news of his mother and sister. One day, the messengers stop coming. Túrin puts on his ancestral family helmet, “the Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin,” and goes to battle alongside the king’s captains and the other Elves.

Túrin Turambar by Alan Lee

Túrin stays in the field for three more years, then returns to Menegroth. He looks dirty and unkempt because he’s been living in the wilderness for three years. One of the Elves of Thingol’s court, named Saeros, mocks Túrin for his wild appearance: “If this is what the Men look like, then do their women run like deer, wearing nothing but their hair?” In response, Túrin throws a goblet at Saeros, injuring him. The next day, they confront each other in the forest. Túrin defeats Saeros, and sends him running naked back to Menegroth, wearing nothing but his hair. Irony! As he flees, Saeros falls into a gorge and dies. Now Túrin is responsible for the death of one of Thingol’s courtiers. Oops.

Mablung, one of the king’s captains, advises Túrin to go back to Menegroth and beg Thingol for his pardon. Túrin decides to leave Doriath as an exile, but Thingol pardons him anyway.

He loved Túrin like a son, and would welcome him back if he decided to return. The king’s other captain, Beleg Cúthalion, loved Túrin just as much, and decides to go after him.

In the meantime, Túrin becomes the leader of a group of outlaws. And not the Robin Hood kind. He starts calling himself Neithan, which means “the Wronged.” (Thingol pardoned him, so he hasn’t been “wronged” at all. This is entirely his own fault.) After a year, Beleg finally finds Túrin’s outlaw lair. Túrin didn’t happen to be there at that moment, so the other thugs seized and bound Beleg, assuming that he was a spy from Thingol. When Túrin gets back, the sight of Beleg bound in his lair makes him suddenly repent of all his evil deeds, yada yada, and he swears to never again harm anyone besides Morgoth’s minions. Let's see if that promise lasts more than five minutes.

Beleg tries to convince Túrin to return to Doriath. He’s been pardoned, so he has no reason to hide out in the wilderness. Túrin is too proud to come crawling back, though. He tries to get Beleg to stay with him, but Beleg is tired of his nonsense and tells Túrin to find him on the front lines if he really wants to be with him. They go their separate ways. Túrin heads out towards Amon Rûdh (“Bald Hill”), a large hill overlooking the Forest of Brethil

Beleg returns to Menegroth and tells Thingol everything that happened (except for the part where he was tied up by Túrin’s thugs). Thingol just sighs and says, “What more would Túrin have me do?” Túrin is a hotheaded teenager who ran away from home, leaving his adoptive parents exasperated. Beleg offers to follow Túrin and protect him from a distance. Thingol gives him leave to go, and as a reward for his service, offers him anything he wants. Beleg asks for a fine sword. The king offers him any sword in his armory, save his own. Beleg chooses a sword called Anglachel, made from a meteorite. (Space Sword!) That means that its blade is ominously jet-black. It’s one of two swords made from the same meteorite by Ëol, the Elf of the Dark Forest. (Remember him? He was Aradhel’s abusive husband, and followed her to Gondolin, where he was killed by being thrown from its walls.) Thingol got one of the meteorite swords as payment for letting Ëol live on his land. Ëol’s son Maeglin has the other one.

Anglachel by Elena Kukanova (Thingol is portrayed with blonde hair here.)

As Thingol presents Beleg with the sword, Queen Melian stops to say that the sword “has malice in it.” If you haven’t noticed by now, any work of craftsmanship in Tolkien’s world is imbued, to at least some extent, with the personality of its creator — the One Ring, the Silmarils, the swan ships, and the Two Trees themselves. This sword is no exception. It absorbed all the bad vibes from Ëol. Melian says that it will serve Beleg begrudgingly, and he’ll end up losing it.

In light of that, Melian decides to give Beleg another gift: lembas bread. In the First Age, Melian was the only person with the authority to give out lembas. The leaves it’s wrapped in are marked with her seal, a white flower of Telperion (the Silver Tree). Melian gives Beleg the lembas with the expectation that he will share it with Túrin, which is a big deal — it’s the first of the very few times that Elves have ever shared their waybread with Men. Beleg leaves with the gifts, and spends the winter keeping the Orc population in check. Once spring comes, and the Orcs are no longer an immediate threat, he goes off to find Túrin.

Germanic fun fact #2: Waybread (wegbræde) is actually the Old English name of a broadleaf plantain, a type of edible plant. Tolkien decided to make it into literal bread.

Meanwhile, Túrin and his gang come across three Dwarves. They capture one of them, and one of the Men, Andróg, shoots after the other two. The arrow goes into the dark, and the Men can’t see if it hit or not. The captured Dwarf’s name is Mîm, and he offers to show Túrin his secret cave in exchange for his life. Túrin pities him, and spares him. (Túrin kind of swings back and forth between doing evil things and then regretting it.) Mîm leads the Men up the slope of Amon Rûdh to his secret cave, which “will be” called the House of Ransom. There are red flowers all over the hill, and one of the Men remarks that it looks like there’s blood on the hilltop. That may as well be a massive ‘FORESHADOWING’ sign.

Mîm the Dwarf by Anke Eißmann

Inside the House of Ransom, Mîm shows the Men the body of his son Khîm (Dwarves really like rhyming names), who was shot and killed a few minutes ago. The arrow that Andróg shot into the dark killed Mîm’s son. Oops. What a way to guilt-trip the Men. Túrin feels horrible (you’d think after Saeros he’d learn not to be so reckless). He takes responsibility for Andróg’s arrow, and offers to pay Mîm a ransom of gold for his son. That validates the name of the House.

Germanic fun fact #3: A ransom paid as compensation for someone’s life is called weregild. This was a normal part of life in Germanic cultures. It was a way of preventing endless back-and-forth feuding between families. The gold guarded by the dragon Fafnir in Germanic mythology is weregild that the Norse gods themselves paid to a Dwarf for the murder of his son. (That story shows up in the Prose Edda and the Volsung Saga, parts of it are also in the Poetic Edda, and it’s referenced elsewhere.) Tolkien is definitely referencing that story here.

Mîm is impressed by Túrin’s speech, remarking that he sounds like an ancient dwarf lord, and forgives him to a point, saying that he doesn’t need to pay a ransom after all. He lets Túrin and co. stay in his house for as long as they need.

Now for a little bit of Dwarf history (we’ve had a lot of Elf history, so we need some Dwarf history): The Dwarves that live in the House of Ransom are called “Petty-Dwarves,” which means they’re less cool than other Dwarves. They were banished from the old Dwarf kingdoms in the Misty Mountains, and made their way west to Beleriand. They’ve slowly become shorter and less talented smiths, and they live in secrecy, which Tolkien thinks is ignoble. The Elves used to hunt them for sport, until the other groups of Dwarves showed up. So, the Petty-Dwarves hate Elves even more than they hate Orcs, and they especially hate the Noldor. The Petty-Dwarves originally discovered the caves of Nargothrond before Finrod took it over and forced them out. By now, the Petty-Dwarves have dwindled and basically lost all relevance. Mîm is one of the last and one of the oldest ones left.

In the harsh cold of winter, a hulking man arrives at Amon Rûdh. The Men all spring up to fight, but the man turns out to be Beleg Cúthalion. He only appeared to be a hulking brute because he was wearing a big backpack under his cloak. Beleg and Túrin have a heartwarming reunion, and Beleg gives Túrin his old ancestral treasure, the Dragon-helm of Dor-lómion. Beleg hopes that the helm will remind Túrin that he’s better than this, that he could be something more than an outlaw living in a hole. But it doesn’t sway Túrin at all.

The Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin by Elena Kukanova (This artist’s design of the helm is based on a real Anglo-Saxon helm found at Sutton Hoo.)

Against his better judgement, Beleg stays with Túrin, purely out of love for him. He becomes the team medic, and uses the lembas that Melian gave him to heal sick and injured members of Túrin’s company. (Lembas apparently has healing powers at this point in Elven history.) Mîm the Dwarf is not happy about having an Elf living in his House. Men are one thing, but as I said before, the Petty-Dwarves have every reason to hate Elves.

Meanwhile, Morgoth is still a problem. Túrin and Beleg go out hunting Orcs, and they’re so good at it that they become living legends. Their land becomes known as “The Land of the Bow and Helm,” referring to Beleg’s archery skills and Túrin’s fancy Dragon-helm. Túrin starts calling himself Gorthol (“Dread Helm”), which is a little pretentious. Even the isolated Gondolin has heard of them! Of course, Morgoth eventually hears of them too, and he immediately knows who the fearsome “Dread Helm” is — it’s that upstart kid from the cursed bloodline! He starts laughing, and presumably sits back with his popcorn to watch the shitshow.

Mîm and his son Ibun are promptly captured by Orcs when they go out to forage for the winter. Mîm uses the exact same tactic that he pulled when Túrin and co. captured him — he promises to lead the Orcs to his secret cave, selling out Túrin to the Orcs. To his credit, Mîm does make the Orcs promise not to kill Túrin, but that doesn’t make much of a difference.

The Orcs kill most of Túrin’s company in their sleep. The rest flee to the top of the hill, but most of them are run down and slain, so that their blood covers the top of the hill like the flowers did. The Orcs actually keep their promise not to kill Túrin, and drag him away. Mîm returns to his House to find a massacre, which he’s not too torn up about, because he’s finally rid of the squatters. Everyone’s dead except for Beleg, who is badly wounded on top of the hill. Mîm takes Beleg’s cursed sword and tries to kill him, but Beleg has enough strength left to catch the sword and push it back. Mîm runs like a coward, and Beleg calls after him that Túrin will one day have his vengeance.

Beleg is a strong Elf who knows healing magic, so he slowly recovers. He searches among the corpses for Túrin’s body, hoping to bury him. When he doesn’t find it, Beleg realizes that Túrin is alive, and goes out to look for him a third time. You’ve gotta admire his devotion to this kid who’s a magnet for trouble.

Beleg by kimberly80

Beleg follows the Orcs’ trail all the way to Taur-nu-Fuin, the Forest under Nightshade in the north near Angband. It’s a dark and scary place, but Beleg is such a badass that he can survive it. In the forest, he finds an Elf sleeping under a tree. After Beleg heals him and gives him some lembas, the Elf says that his name is Gwindor, one of the Elves from Nargothrond who went to fight with Maedhros in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. Captured Noldor are put to work in Morgoth’s mines, since they’re skilled with metals and gemstones. (The Noldor yearn for the mines!!!) Gwindor managed to escape through a secret tunnel, and got lost in the evil forest.

Gwindor gives Beleg some intel about the Orc party he’s chasing, and tries to dissuade Beleg from following them. After all, he knows what awaits them in Angband if they get captured. But Beleg refuses to abandon Túrin, and Gwindor, having finally gotten a smidge of hope, decides to go with him.

Beleg and Gwindor sneak into the Orc camp at the base of the Thangorodrim and carry Túrin out without a hitch. But when Beleg goes to cut Túrin’s bonds with his cursed sword, he slips and snicks Túrin’s foot with the blade. Túrin wakes up to see someone bending over him with a sword, and freaks out, not realizing who it is. He grabs the sword and kills Beleg, his loyal friend who loved him so much that he repeatedly put himself in harm’s way for Túrin’s sake. A storm rages overhead, and a flash of lightning illuminates Beleg’s face. Túrin is completely distraught to see that he killed his friend, and collapses beside Beleg’s body.

Death of Beleg by Elena Kukanova

In the morning, when the storm passes, Gwindor suggests that they bury Beleg. Túrin is still distraught, but helps bury him right in that spot. They bury Beleg’s bow with him, but take the lembas, and the meteorite sword. Gwindor thinks it’s a shame that such a fine sword should go to waste, and thinks it would be better used to kill the Orcs, and that’ll definitely come back to bite them later.

They go off together, but Túrin is so traumatized that he doesn’t speak. Gwindor looks after him until they reach a magic spring called Eithel Ivrin, which is blessed by Ulmo (the Vala of Water). Túrin drinks from the spring and finally speaks again. He composes a lay to honor Beleg’s life, and sings it at the top of his voice.

Túrin and Gwindor at the Pools of Ivrin, by Ted Nasmith

Gwindor gives Túrin the meteorite sword, and offers to take him back to Nargothrond. Since he can finally speak, Túrin asks Gwindor who he is, and Gwindor tells him that he’s a thrall who was “once” Gwindor son of Guilin. I think it’s interesting that Gwindor introduces himself this way — he no longer feels worthy of his former identity, and though he escaped Morgoth, he still identifies himself as a “thrall.”

Túrin also asks after his father Húrin. Gwindor doesn’t know any details, but he tells Túrin the rumors that Húrin is imprisoned by Morgoth and that his line is cursed. After everything that just happened, Túrin finds that completely believable.

As they continue to travel, Túrin and Gwindor are captured by Gwindor’s own people, the Elves of Nargothrond. They don’t recognize Gwindor at all — being a slave in Angband aged him prematurely, which doesn’t normally happen to Elves — so they assume that Gwindor and Túrin are spies. The first person to recognize Gwindor is the king’s beautiful daughter, Finduilas, because she was in love with him before he left. Gwindor is welcomed back into the fold. Túrin is allowed to stay, but he doesn’t give the Elves his real name.

Something about Túrin must be really appealing to Elves, because the Nargothrond Elves like him as much as Thingol’s Elves did. Also, Túrin has been a teenager this whole time, and only now does he reach manhood. (Actually, like Aragorn, he’s probably significantly longer-lived than the humans of today are. But still.)

Also, he’s really attractive, like his mother Morwen— he has pale skin and dark hair, gray eyes, and the prettiest face of any Man who’s ever lived. At first glance, you’d easily mistake him for one of the Noldor. (After all the pictures of him looking kind of like Aragorn or Boromir, that came as quite a shock.) I guess he cleans up nicely; he has been living in the wilderness for years.

Túrin Turambar by @tolrone

The meteorite sword is reforged, and Túrin renames it Gurthang, “Iron of Death.” He’s so skilled with it that the Elves nickname him Mormegil, “The Black Sword,” which is pretty badass.

Finduilas unwittingly falls in love with Túrin, and out of love with Gwindor. Gwindor catches on, and doesn’t take it personally, but he warns Finduilas about what happened the last time an Elf and a Man fell in love. Túrin may look and act like an Elf, but he’s not one — he’ll die and leave Finduilas alone, and it’s vanishingly unlikely that Mandos will be willing to break the rules a second time. Also, Túrin is clearly cursed, and Beren didn’t have that problem. Gwindor also reveals Túrin’s real name, and tells Finduilas that if she gets mixed up with him, she’s guaranteed to feel the effects of the curse on his bloodline.

Nargothrond. Finduilas and Túrin by Elena Kukanova

Túrin is very mad that Gwindor revealed his true identity. Gwindor tells him that he’ll attract trouble no matter what he calls himself, so, there’s not much point in using aliases.

When Orodreth, the king, hears who Túrin really is, he’s perfectly happy to have a son of Húrin in his ranks. Túrin becomes more and more important in his court — so important, that he can completely overhaul their method of warfare. Remember, ever since Celegorm and Curufin’s attempted coup, the Nargothrond Elves have practiced mainly guerilla warfare, which is sneaky and dishonorable and all that. So now, because of Túrin, the Nargothrond Elves practice open warfare like civilized people. The disadvantage to this is that, now that the Nargothrond Elves are fighting out in the open, Morgoth knows where they are.

Gwindor is worried by how much influence Túrin has, and sounds the alarm, but no one listens to him anymore and he falls out of favor. Poor guy. He survives Angband, is nice to Túrin, gives him a place to live, and is repaid by Túrin stealing his honors and his girlfriend.

In the meantime Morwen, Túrin’s mother, takes advantage of the unexpected peace caused by her son’s decimation of all the Orcs in the area. She flees to Doriath with her daughter, expecting to find Túrin there. She grieves when she learns that Thingol’s court hasn’t heard from Túrin in years. (They actually have heard of “The Black Sword of Nargothrond,” but they have no way to know that it’s Túrin.) Thingol allows Morwen and her daughter to live in his court, and treats them like family.

Okay, I’m gonna stop there! More coming!

[coochiequeens]

A small victory for women in American politics

Kentucky’s next Supreme Court is shaping up to be a historic one for women. 

Deputy Chief Justice Debra Hembree Lambert will become Kentucky’s chief justice in January. (Administrative Office of the Courts photo)

With the election of Kentucky’s first Black female justice, Pamela Goodwine, women will hold four of the court’s seven seats. Additionally, the court will be led by the first female chief justice, Deputy Chief Justice Debra Lambert, starting in January. 

As of earlier this year, 17 states have female majorities on their supreme court benches, according to a report from the Brennan Center for Justice. Alaska was also poised to gain a female majority after seven women sought a seat on its Supreme Court this summer. 

Goodwine’s election also makes her the first woman in history who will serve at every level of Kentucky’s judiciary branch: district court, circuit court, appeals court and the Supreme Court. . She said in a statement to the Kentucky Lantern that the milestone “reminds me of the women who came before me, paving the way through hard work, determination and resilience, often overcoming significant obstacles to reach their goals.” 

“Their struggles paved the way for our successes today, and it is our duty to continue their legacy and to forge a path for others as well,” Goodwine said. “Throughout my life, education and career, I have faced what many described as insurmountable challenges, but I don’t give up on my dreams when things get hard. I simply work harder to make my dreams come true.” 

Women outnumber men in law schools

Two previous female justices — Sara Walter Combs and retired Janet Stumbo — both say the new majority of women on the high court is a reflection of the increase in women in the legal profession. 

In 2016, women for the first time made up the majority of students in the nation’s law schools, according to the American Bar Association, which says the change came slowly. In 1963, only 4% of first-year law students were female, rising to 20% in 1973, 39% in 1983 and 44% by 1993.

In Kentucky last year women made up the majority of law students at the University of Louisville (53%) and Northern Kentucky University (55%). Female and male enrollment were about even at the University of Kentucky in 2023-24 with 203 women and 206 men enrolled in the law school.

Judge Sara Walter Combs Combs was the first woman to serve on Kentucky’s Supreme Court after being appointed by Gov. Brereton Jones in 1993. She now serves on the Kentucky Court of Appeals. When she began taking law classes at night at the University of Louisville, she said she was one of very few women in her law class. 

“When I started my work career, I was a teacher, and the one thing that women could do, predominantly in that period of our history, was to teach or to be a nurse,” Combs said. “Well, they’re still wonderful professions; it’s just a matter that now there are more options for women beyond those two choices, and I think the more options we have, the better, because we all have different talents.” 

While she was reluctant to “to tie gender and competency to one another,” Combs applauded the women on the Kentucky Supreme Court. 

“They have good legal minds, they have a great work ethic, they’re collegial, they’re everything that a good judge should be. They just happen to be women,” Combs said. “I’m delighted that they haven’t been held back because of that fact, but I would prefer to emphasize the fact of their competence rather than their gender.”

When asked if the majority of women could be a sign of increasing diversity on the bench in the future, Combs said a diverse pool of judges is needed to review cases. 

“I hope it does, because our social problems are very diverse in nature and origin, and I think their solution will require some diversity of approach to how we solve these problems,” she said. 

Change takes time

Stumbo, who was the first woman elected to the Kentucky Supreme Court in 1993 and retired from the Court of Appeals in 2017, said that diversity on the bench — in terms of race and gender — is a change that happens over time. Kentucky judicial candidates are required to be a licensed attorney for some time before seeking election. A district judge requires two years while the Supreme Court requires eight years. 

Retired Justice Janet L. Stumbo stands beside her portrait, painted by artist Tona Barkley, following a dedication ceremony Dec. 6, 2023. The portrait joined others of justices in the corridors of the second floor of the Kentucky Capitol in Frankfort. (Photo by Brian Bohannon)

“The composition of the bar has changed greatly,” Stumbo said. “The number of women who are lawyers, the number of minorities who are lawyers, has increased dramatically, and that’s the way we’ll see more diversity on the bench.” 

Stumbo said that the majority of female justices shows that the electorate in Kentucky is also more accepting of women being in these high-ranking roles. 

“There’s definitely more work to be done, but women are succeeding and succeeding in ways that are getting them recognized as fine litigators and tenacious litigators and people that you’re proud to have representing you,” Stumbo said. 

Judge Goodwine speaks to supporters at her election night watch party in Lexington Nov. 5, 2024. (Kentucky Lantern photo by Arden Barnes)

Women would have won a majority of Kentucky Supreme Court seats no matter how the Nov. 5 election turned out. Goodwine’s opponent also was a woman, Lexington attorney Erin Izzo.

Goodwine echoed those sentiments. She said that each justice on the court “carries unique perspectives and experiences” and that it’s imperative that younger generations see themselves reflected in the highest levels of the judiciary. She said that many have “expressed gratitude to me for being a trailblazer helping to forge a path for others to follow in my footsteps in their chosen profession, and that increases my drive and dedication to ensure that our justice system reflects our community.” 

“This new chapter for our court affirms the progress we have made and also challenges us to move forward with purpose and conviction,” Goodwine said. “We honor the legacy of our forerunners by continuing to uphold the principles of fairness, justice and equality for all. It is a responsibility I take to heart, and I look forward to working with my esteemed colleagues to protect the rights and uphold the dignity of everyone in our state ensuring that the Kentucky Supreme Court is a beacon of justice for all.” 

[ashironie]

reblogging bcs i have a lot of thoughts

i fucking HATED how Jon treated him s1, we also have to remember that before we see ANYTHING of Martin straight from the horses mouth, we see him from Jon’s pov. And Martin probably wasn’t very good at his job, but that’s reasonable since he transferred from the library to an archive, he most certainly didn’t expect to be in research 2.0. Martin has no clue how to do his job and he couldn’t let anyone know that because he wasn’t even supposed to be there. The reason i started liking Martin was because i hated Jon, and the reason i hated Jon was because he was mean to Martin. My thought process was thus; Jon’s an Ass to Martin for really no reason, so I’m going to like Martin to spite Jon

Now, i too sorta dislike s5 Martin, when i first listened i found him to be really whiny and kinda ungrateful. During my relisten a lot of the problems i had with him were lessened because i was just so unuse to this new Martin, and before, he would do everything I would, but now he was a lot different, which gave me whiplash. it’s like expecting the driver in a car to take a turn and then they just don’t, you can’t blame them but there’s a sense of wrongness in your stomach. Now again most of these problems i had were fixed when i relistened, knowing what was going to happen, and that was my main complaint with s5 in general, expecting a turn and the driver just keeps going straight

Now going back to s1 (since i realized i didn’t explain my point very well). When ever Jon talked about what Martin did it was heavily biased, and whenever we hear Martin talk it’s around Jon. Around the person he doesn’t want to get in trouble by. We heard in the beginning of s5 tapes that Sasha and Tim were a lot different then when being recorded in s1, so obviously Martin (with a more easily identifiable reason) would also be a lot different. Then when everything went down and he dropped the act a little, we do know he was still acting. The tapes we get in s3 before the Unknowing are the closest thing we get to him being genuine, and even still he doesn’t want to admit how much of an asshole he is.

Now it’s fine if you don’t like Martin, he’s specifically written as a very complex person, and that means that sometimes people just hate him for no reason. But I dislike the criticism that his personality was very touch and go, it’s just that we didn’t know what was actually going on in his head until end of s4 and s5.

Now my defense of why I like Martin is;

He has a very heavy faun response, which same, and that aspect makes him really interesting to me. Being manipulative and having a heavy faun response are the same, but are seen differently.

i detest the idea that he is never in the wrong or that he’s just a sweet cinnamon roll. Martin, early on, just follows the lead to anyone who makes it seem like they understand even a little, then does a full 180 into thinking he knows what’s right and wrong without any input from anyone. Then realizes that, he really doesn’t know, nobody does, and he still thinks he knows better more often than not, but he recognizes this in himself. There is no ends to anyone’s character arcs in TMA, they still grow and struggle with the same things, but they find new solutions and new problems. And i think all of that is really interesting! It adds to the tragedy, it’s fine if a character dies when they are finished atoning for whatever narrative sin they have be set up with, but it’s tragic when they never get to! They are told what they need to do, and try to do it, but die before they can. Sasha died before she could be anything but a memory, someone who almost just haunts the narrative. Tim died in a noble way, but ultimately pointless one, as we come to find out. He is still just as angry, and he still didn’t bring the two people he wanted to save back from the dead. He didn’t win, even if he and everyone else thought so. He could’ve healed, but he killed himself before he could. And Martin tries like hell to figure out how to listen to people without only listening to him, and he fails a lot, a LOT a lot. But he died before he could just relax. Jon was the same, he got too deep and thought that, with enough time, he could figure out a way, not out of the hole, but closer to the surface. And he would’ve, if given the time. But he was dragged back into the same bullshit by the same man and by the same fear.

sorry that one was a lot longer but yk.

Martin is also stubborn. He was endlessly patient with Jon early s5, and the idea that he’s impatient the rest of the season i disagree with. He is just very careful with what he gives his time, maybe a bit to careful, but again with him over-course correcting. But he is still very stubborn, which i feel like is a good word between perseverance and determination. He knows that they will find a way to get everyone safe, as much as possible. He is too patient to believe the easy answer, and too persistent to allow everyone else to settle for that either. He does dumb things sometimes, but when has a tma character not? but is still fiercely protective of his people and ideals. if not a bit misguided at times

I'll be so honest with y'all, I always thought Martin was written to be an intentionally dislikeable character (like s1 Jon) for like character development or something, and then I was even MORE sure of that by season 5, and then they just kinda never touched on it and the fandom was all obsessing over him and it's like?? What do y'all see in him unless you relate to him omg 😨

[kitschhazel]

So yeah, Mayan style flare plugs are pretty comfortable

[thetriggeredhappy]

before pride month ends im gonna take this opportunity to say. if a transfem corrects you for using ‘dude’ or ‘man’ to refer to her, and you reply that ‘actually dude and man are gender neutral’, consider that she knows this. and she’s correcting you because she doesn’t want to be referred to as gender neutral. she wants to be referred to as a woman. and perhaps - really stew on this one - your reluctance to refer to her with traditionally feminine language, and even to incorporate and co-opt traditionally feminine language into your casual gender-neutral usages in everyday life, are indicative of an internal sexist bias. this is not necessarily in itself a condemnation of your character - but if you feel perfectly comfortable calling someone (regardless of gender) ‘bro’ but not ‘sis’, that’s worth a smidge of introspection.

[sanjisblackasswife]

idk if this is a hot take??

but i think it’s important to realize it’s ok to get rid of friends (or even family) that mentally drain you.

not worth the hassle

[aeolianblues]

good god girl, maybe some of us are not vegan because we eat chicken like once in three months?? Would reduction not be a more productive goal of vegan activism than outright banning? Like if your arguments are that animals are being eaten, then you’re being unrealistic about the entire actual concept of the food chain. Humans are omnivores, you do not need to change that to achieve your goals.

A vegan lifestyle is also entirely the product of your geographical location. If you live somewhere that shit does not grow, what are you going to do?? I just think about the difference between food options in India and Canada, for example. India: between the tropics (tropics and equator even, in fact). All-year-round sun, there’s pretty much always stuff growing. Different kinds of land will mean you can grow everything from staples like rice and wheat to vegetables, fruits and plantation crops. It’s reflected in the cuisines: Indian food has a much, much wider offering of vegetarian food, and many more Indians have restricted diets that more or less overlap with vegetarianism. Because crops grows. Locally.

Canada. Harvest in the fall, from November to March, your fields are practically unusable. Compare the prices of fresh produce in (and now I’m being generous to give you a highly populated, non-remote province here for an example) Ontario. Ontario has farms where in the fall you get fresh autumn vegetables and fruits. You’ll also get them in larger quantities. It is way cheaper, fresher and also uses less energy and fuel to transport the vegetables like 50 km from farm to market.

Come the winter and nothing grows. If you look at most vegetables you’ll find on store shelves in December or February, and most of it is either imported from warmer regions of the US (often the case for chains that are in both countries) or from South American countries (sometimes SA -> USA -> Canada). The importing has to go through cross-country customs, had to be driven for days, is less fresh or rich in nutrients by the time you get it, and is more expensive. Of course. And we all come out of it poorer. Is it any wonder why people will eat meat? We’re even talking here about a place like Ontario, very well connected on North American trade routes. Can you justify someone in Yukon deciding to eat meat over a $17/lb. green veg? Be for fucking real…

There simply cannot be a blanket-global solution to animal products. You’ve got to work with what your geography has to offer. It’s the same thing we say when we say that avocados have an environmental cost when you expect them to be available year-round in places they don’t grow. We encourage people to go for more local produce there, and I think the same should go for all parts of your diet too. If your animals are local, then their footprint is lower than importing kiwis from New Zealand to the US. I don’t see how that’s hard to understand.