painting! i forgot how much i love painting

admittedly, it’s wonky (and a coloring page my little brothers wanted me to do with them, how could i say no) but i kinda like it >:)

Supernatural characters and what they want to do on a date, please? ♡

some of these will surprise absolutely no one but I am sO GLAD YOU ASKED ANON

——

Dean Winchester

I feel like Dean would be one of the easiest with a date. He always tries to do the things he wants to, so in a date, it won’t be much different. His perfect date would be a road trip - the length depending on what kind of date it is. Usually, you’d drive about four hours to destination unknown, but there have been occasions where you took a couple days off to travel the country and see some classic tourists locations. Vegas is most often where you end up. He’d take you to roadhouses for food, unless you’re travelling to a town specifically. Then, he’d try to find a restaurant which has food he actually likes. If you know him long enough, he might even let you drive Baby. But only for a short while. And his eyes will be glued on you constantly.

——

Sam Winchester

Sam is an absolute gentlemen. He’d take you out to a restaurant, hold the door open for you, slide out your seat, won’t eat before you do etc. Nine out of ten times he has a tiny gift with him, regardless of the situation. It could be a random day and he’d give you a box of chocolates or a bouquet of roses. Again - he’s a classic gentleman. He settles for the classic gifts. Afterwards, he loves to take walks with you, visit a museum or simply sit on a bench with a view of some landscape. During hunts, he is likely to take you out to spontaneous trips to the library cafe. Not the most romantic place to go to, but he knows that his lifestyle makes it difficult for him to get to properly take you out all of the time. He prefers the short in between moments more than the entire night planned out. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like them though.

——

Castiel

Does exactly what you randomly mentioned once. When you had only known him for a handful of weeks, you might have casually mentioned you love something such as going to the movies or visiting a beach, and now - years later - he’d have that remembered and do exactly as you said. Over the years, he learns much of human customs, so it isn’t that he doesn’t know what a proper date looks like. It’s simply that he likes to do the things you like to do. He’d much rather do something you forgot you had ever told him than to plan something out for himself out of thin air. Besides, he always enjoys seeing your reaction whenever he takes you out. ‘How did you know I would like this?’ ‘You told me four years ago.’ ‘?????’ He’s very endearing and can never get enough of the absolute shell shocked expression on your face whenever he decides to make your ideas come true. And it still surprises you after so many times.

——

Charlie Bradbury

No, I am not going to tell you she would not take you to a renaissance fair or an arcade or an impromptu DnD session because she absolutely would. Depending on your personal interests and experiences with either three, she’d definitely engage in it. Your first date would likely have been at a ren fair and it has become a tradition ever since. No - not a ren fair like her LARPing (which was still awesome). She’d get dressed up and offer you her arm the entire time. She’d take you to the medieval eating tents, watch live performances of battle field with you, buys you little trinkets at the marketplaces, lets you try on some cool clothing; whatever you enjoy most. The longer you’re dating, the more often you’d go out. At night when both of you are bored, she’d grab a car and take you to a nearby arcade, lovingly annihilating you in Dance Dance Revolution. When you have a free day, she’d try to introduce you to DnD and her current party. The more you learn about it, the more often you’d get invited to their sessions with your own character. She’d sit beside you, holding your hand under the table as she’d be by your character’s side the entire time. It doesn’t even matter that there are other people too. To you, it still feels like a date.

——

Gabriel

Initially, he’d definitely try to escalate the situation into a Casa Erotica tape, but he’s quick to agree with you once you decline. Most dates are spent in fancy hotels or restaurants of which you do not even know the same. He simply takes you there and you trust him with it. Gabriel is one who enjoys party and clubs, so he’d love to take you to cocktail bars every so often, keeping you close to him constantly and showing you off to everyone. Think hand on your waist constantly, sips of your glass, kisses on your cheek, chin on your shoulder etc. If you aren’t one for crowds or parties, he’d bring the party home or to a hotel chamber. He’d pop up his own little bar, mixing his own cocktails (or mocktails), offering them to you as a dramatic bartender, flirting with you as if he’d never seen you before. He’s also a big fan of taking you to big cities just to enjoy the view. You’d be at West End the first evening and Tokyo the second. He’s seen a lot of the world and loves to share that experience with you (and a lot of embarrassing tourist pictures with ‘I love Amsterdam’ shirts)

——

Lucifer

Whatever he does, he tries to brush it off casually. Did he put all that effort into making a non-poisonous dinner with a made table? Pfff, no big deal. Did he really remember you really liked that one necklace? Yeah, he thought you might like it. He definitely did not take that the moment you mentioned it and weren’t looking. He’s a big fan of the tiny date ideas. Movie night? Absolutely. Oh yes, there is a pit with pillows there but it definitely isn’t there because you love them and he secretly loves to hold you close in them. Going out to the marketplace? Fun! He definitely won’t offer you his arm the entire time and get everything you claim ‘smells nice’ or ‘still need’. He does tiny gestures and tries to brush them off every single time, even after you thank him for it or compliment him on it. He doesn’t brush it off out of his pride or negligence of you - on the contrary. He brushes it off to make it seem as if it is easy for him. He has spent a long time separated from any form of contact and has not known love for the majority of his life. To have finally found you is something completely foreign to him, and he tries to keep you happy so desperately, but he doesn’t want it to seem like he puts too much effort into it. It’s okay, though. You secretly know this.

——

Crowley

Much like Sam, he takes you out on classic dates. He’d show up to your doorstep, even though he can easily enter. He offers you his arm the entire night as he takes you out to dinner, walk the city or take you to that concert you mentioned once. Even better - he got you backstage passes. Your favourite artist in town? Isn’t it great to not have that ticket sale stress anymore? Whatever you do during the date, he makes sure you have a great time. Your pleasure and enjoyment comes first, and if that means he has to eat a place he hates or see a band he cannot stand, then so be it. He won’t make a long face nor express his dissatisfaction. If anything, he might even start to like it purely because you do. He’s quick to associate these things with you as well. Once you mention your love towards a certain dish or city, he keeps it locked in his mind and thinks of you every time someone mentions it. He’ll make sure to give you gifts often enough which go hand in hand with your interests and loves. He knows perfectly what you like and don’t like and always keeps this in mind. He’d never take you somewhere you don’t want to be or don’t like to go.

So something I realized watching a few videos and reading a few articles is that most of us aren’t angry at the idea of AI in general. Many of us are excited to learn about AI systems that can identify cancer better than doctors, for instance.

What we’re angry about is generative AI being used to destroy the jobs of artists (and I mean all creatives here), who have already been dealing with their work being devalued by modern society.

And I’m not sure how to deal with it. I do remember learning that when photography became a thing, many painters were horrified and terrified of would erase the art of painting. It didn’t obviously, and in fact photography because a whole new art form.

I grew up during the birth of digital art. I distinctly remember the phase digital art went through where many people declared it to not be “real art” and that it was “cheating” etc. I’m sure other millennial artists also remember this transition. But graphic designers pretty quickly adopted digital tools, and websites like DeviantArt popped up, and I don’t think there are too many people nowadays who would say a digital painting isn’t “art”. Still, I do imagine there is a gulf between how some people would view the “artistic merit” of a 3 ft tall oil painting hanging next to a 3 ft tall print of a digital painting, even if the subject and styles were similar. So the worries that digital art would erase physical painting was also proven false. And for the record, I think digital art is 100% art. The merit of digital art is equal to that of physical art.

On the other hand, I can’t say these changes didn’t affect older forms of art. Like, photography did affect the world of painting. I don’t have statistics, but it seems like it probably affected the world of portraiture the most. And I wonder if many of the 20th century art movements were influenced by photography. None of my art history classes touched on that and it’s kinda weird to me. There is definitely something about a Dada or cubism or surrealist painting that transcends beyond what a traditional photo of a landscape or a portrait can do. There is no location in the real world with actual melting clocks or people whose faces show multiple angles at once.

And then there was the digital photograph that changed everything again! Film has become a niche art form.

There were specific kinds of jobs lost due to the digital transition, too. I’m thinking of things like murals being replaced by printed banners, or book covers often being done in photoshop. Oh, and that’s another tool that was faced with fear: Photoshop! There was a fear it would destroy the need for professional photographers because everyone could just fix their own photos. Turns out nope, and in fact people skilled in photography and photo editing are still in demand. And of course there’s the loss of 2D animation in favor of 3D animation, the loss of practical effects for digital, etc.

And you might argue that in some of those cases people can tell corners are being cut and that they won’t stand for it, but Marvel movies still make billions of dollars so…

So I don’t know what’s going to happen with AI art. I am NOT saying “all current artists are stupid and wrong, in the future history students will laugh at how stubborn they were to resist this idea”. AI art is not comparable to photography or digital painting.

With a photograph, you still need to compose the image in the frame, you need to position yourself in the real world, you need to know your equipment, whether you’re using film or digital. You also need to know how to process that photo either in the dark room or in Photoshop. These are skills the average person does not have. You cannot tell an AI “that shot was good but can you increase the contrast?” It’ll just produce a completely new image.

I read an article about an art director who was encountering difficulties as the department tried to incorporate AI. They got back first drafts of art ideas from the people employed to work with the AI, gave critique, and the second round was just completely new images that didn’t include the suggestions… because they couldn’t. AI does not understand color theory. It does not have the ability to take critique. It can’t slightly alter the layout of a design.

And all of that applies to painting too. AI (currently) can’t do what a trained art student can do. It doesn’t know that to create a sense of atmosphere you should make distant objects bluer. It doesn’t know how to use human physiology and psychology to draw a viewer’s eyes across a large painting to reveal a story.

AI also can’t replicate INTENTION - and intentionality is a HUGE part of art. WHY an artist chose those colors, that medium, that composition, those tools, why they chose to display it a certain way, why the composition is like this instead of that - all of that adds meaning to the painting that you can’t get with AI.

(Yes, there is an absolutely valid field of art critique that evaluates a piece of art on its standalone value and the message it conveys without the context of the artist’s intent, but that should be compared to the analysis that DOES include the artist’s intent! That comparison can bring about so much understanding!)

Anyway I’m going to end this post now because it has gotten WAY too long. I focused mostly on painting and photography in this post because those are my particular fields of speciality, but this applies to ALL ART. It applies to music and writing and scripting and acting and composing music and just. Everything. All art.

I don’t think there are any forms of art AI doesn’t threaten. Now granted, AI can’t currently pick up a paint brush. It can’t use a crochet needle. It can’t hold a camera. And maybe there will be some sort of return to physical media in response to AI produced digital art. Or maybe there will be a response in digital art to stylistically distinguish it from AI in a way AI can’t reproduce. I’m not sure what will happen. Maybe some proof the image was digitally painted by a real person, somehow. Or that it’s a real photo, or a real article. I saw someone mention there may end up being labels like “100% human made” like we do for organic food lol. Maybe work in progress videos or photo metadata will become more commonplace as evidence of authenticity.

Anyway, NOW I’m ending this post. Whew.

The Songbird and the Rebel

pairings: lucy gray baird x gn!reader

summary: you love lucy. you would do anything for her. including throw yourself in with the wolves in order to protect her.

warnings: canon typical violence, minor SPOILERS FOR TBOSAS!!!! reader is gender neutral BUT takes the spot for male tribute, first person

word count: 2.3k

a/n: my first fanfic in a while (leilani if you see this leave) part 2?

Lucy Gray Baird was a name known to most in District 12.

If you don’t know her from when her and her covey arrived in District 12 with an array of songs, then you definitely know her from her singing in the bar or by the hanging tree.

In the quiet corners of my heart, there exists a profound narrative woven with the threads of affection and admiration for Lucy Gray Baird. To gaze upon her is to witness a kaleidoscope of beauty, each facet revealing a unique charm that, when combined, creates an enchanting tapestry of allure. Her presence is a gentle breeze, weaving through the tapestry of my days, leaving me breathless with the ethereal magic she brings.

Lucy Gray's eyes are like pools of liquid moonlight, reflecting a depth that seems to hold the secrets of the universe. When she casts her gaze upon me, it's as if time itself pauses, and in those moments, I find solace in the silent language exchanged between our souls. Her laughter, a melody that dances in the air, resonates with the sweetness of a thousand songbirds. Each note is a reminder that joy is not just an emotion, but a symphony composed by the mere existence of Lucy Gray.

Yet, it is in the cadence of her voice that the true enchantment unfolds. Her words are like a lyrical river, flowing with grace and carrying the weight of untold stories. The timbre, a harmonious blend of warmth and tenderness, wraps around my heart like a comforting embrace. Listening to Lucy Gray speak is akin to traversing a forest of ancient trees, each word a delicate leaf that rustles in the gentle breeze, revealing the wisdom etched into the very fabric of her being.

In the quietude of twilight, as the world settles into a hushed symphony, Lucy Gray's voice becomes a lullaby, a soothing melody that cradles my thoughts and lingers in the corridors of my dreams. It is a voice that navigates the complexities of emotion, painting vivid landscapes of understanding and empathy. With every syllable, she unveils a tapestry of connection, forging a bond that transcends the mundane and elevates our shared existence to a realm where love is not just a sentiment but a living, breathing entity.

To be in love with Lucy Gray Baird is to be immersed in a story where every chapter unfolds with the grace of a sonnet, and her enchanting voice serves as the narrator, guiding me through the intricacies of emotion with eloquence and poise. In her presence, time becomes an ephemeral concept, and the symphony of our shared moments resonates in the chambers of my heart, an everlasting ode to the captivating magic that is Lucy Gray.

As the calendar inches closer to that dreaded date, the annual arrival of the reaping, a shiver courses through my veins, and the spectre of fear looms large in the recesses of my thoughts. It's a perennial nightmare, a cyclical horror that etches its mark on my soul with each passing year. The looming prospect of the reaping casts a long, foreboding shadow over the days leading up to it, like an impending storm gathering its strength.

In the district, where life is a delicate dance on the precipice of survival, the reaping is the grand conductor orchestrating the symphony of anxiety that grips every heart. The Capitol's merciless tradition, designed to remind us of our vulnerability, is an annual ritual that plunges us into a maelstrom of uncertainty. As the day draws near, the atmosphere becomes thick with a palpable tension, a collective holding of breaths that echo the unspoken dread etched across the faces of my fellow citizens.

The fear is not merely a response to the capricious nature of the reaping; it is an acknowledgment of the ruthless lottery that defines our existence. Every year, the odds are a cruel reminder of the fragility of life, and as the names are drawn, the spectre of mortality hangs heavy in the air. It's a twisted game where the stakes are nothing less than life itself, and the chances of escape grow slimmer with each passing year.

Yet, in the recesses of my consciousness, a tiny flame of hope persists. Three more years, I tell myself, just three more before the shackles of this annual torment are lifted. The countdown becomes a mantra, a whispered reassurance that carries me through the darkest hours leading up to the reaping. I imagine a future where the weight of this fear is but a distant memory, where the spectre of the Capitol's malevolence no longer casts its sinister gaze upon my destiny.

Survival becomes an art, a delicate dance between evading the Capitol's scrutiny and navigating the treacherous currents of our district's harsh realities. With each passing reaping, the lessons learned, the alliances forged, and the scars accumulated become badges of a silent resistance against the Capitol's oppressive grip. As the clock ticks away, the urgency to outlast this infernal cycle intensifies, and I find solace in the belief that resilience will be my shield until the dawn of that promised freedom.

The reaping remains an annual crucible, but with each passing year, the embers of hope burn a little brighter. Three more years—a finite horizon that promises liberation from the perennial terror that shadows my days. Until then, I navigate the minefield of survival, driven by the unyielding determination to defy the odds and emerge from the crucible of the reaping with the scars of endurance etched upon my soul.

Lost in the tapestry of my daydreams, where the edges of reality blur into the realms of imagination, I found myself wading through the ethereal landscapes of distant thoughts. The cadence of a country twang, like a gentle breeze, pulled me back from the reverie, and there she was – Lucy Gray Baird, a vision of warmth and southern charm.

"What's wrong, darling?" Lucy Gray's voice, dripping with honeyed tones, sliced through the cocoon of my musings. Startled, I looked up to find her gaze fixed on me, a playful twinkle in her eyes that made my heart flutter.

Shaking my head to dispel the lingering fragments of my daydreams, I stammered out a feeble response, "Oh, nothing, just lost in thought."

Lucy Gray's expression shifted to a quizzical 'really?' as she cocked her head to the side. It was as if she could read the unsaid, decipher the hidden nuances beneath the surface of my demeanour. Unable to support the charade, I sighed and admitted, "Just thinking about tomorrow."

Her brow furrowed with concern, and Lucy Gray, with a sincerity that belied the playful banter, insisted, "We're not getting picked, darling. Trust me."

The assurance, while comforting, collided with the grim reality that haunted the eve of every reaping. "Lucy Gray, you can't be sure. The odds are never in our favour," I argued, my voice laced with the weight of impending dread.

An animated debate unfolded, our words clashing like opposing currents in a tempestuous sea. Lucy Gray, with an unwavering confidence, insisted that fate would spare us, while I, burdened by the grim statistics of our district, could not share her optimism. The tension escalated, transforming a mere disagreement into a storm of conflicting emotions.

With a heavy sigh, I declared, "I can't afford false hope, Lucy Gray. I need to face the reality of our situation."

Lucy Gray's eyes darkened with disappointment, and her lips formed a thin line. "You don't have to face it alone, darling," she murmured, her voice now devoid of its earlier playfulness.

In the aftermath of our heated exchange, the room echoed with the haunting silence of unresolved tension. Unable to bear the weight of the unspoken, I stormed out, leaving behind a tumultuous atmosphere that lingered in the air like a palpable storm. The door swung shut behind me, closing the chapter on a disagreement that lingered in the corridors of my conscience.

As I walked away, the shadows of doubt and fear clung to me like a relentless spectre. Tomorrow's reaping loomed on the horizon, and amid our clash, the uncertain fate that awaited us cast a shadow on the camaraderie between Lucy Gray and me.

The morning of the reaping dawned with an eerie stillness, the air thick with tension as I stood flanked by my brothers, a tight knot of apprehension settling in the pit of my stomach. The proximity to them, a meagre comfort in the face of the impending ordeal, offered a silent solidarity that spoke of shared fears and unspoken bonds.

As the announcer's voice echoed through the square, a collective hush fell over the assembled crowd. My gaze scanned the sea of faces, searching for Lucy Gray amid the sea of anxious expressions. But she was nowhere to be found, and a gnawing unease crept into my thoughts.

The dread reached its zenith when the familiar twang of the announcer's voice pierced the air, uttering those fateful words that sent shockwaves through my world. "Lucy Gray Baird."

Time seemed to grind to a halt as her name reverberated through the square. A sharp intake of breath echoed through the crowd, and my brothers and I exchanged glances, our eyes mirroring the disbelief that clung to our collective consciousness. Lucy Gray, the beacon of defiance and warmth, had been ensnared by the merciless claws of the reaping.

A murmur rippled through the crowd as Lucy Gray emerged, her steps deliberate yet exuding an air of unrestrained rebellion. As she approached the podium, the atmosphere crackled with a palpable tension. Instead of submitting to the Capitol's ritual humiliation, Lucy Gray took matters into her own hands.

In a daring act of defiance, she slipped a snake into the folds of the mayor's daughter's dress, a calculated rebellion that unfolded like a subversive ballet. Gasps of astonishment and screams of fear spread through the crowd as Lucy Gray stood there, an embodiment of resistance against the Capitol's oppression.

Her gaze, a beacon of unyielding determination, sought me out in the crowd. Our eyes locked in a silent exchange, a communion of understanding that transcended the barriers of the Capitol's surveillance. In that fleeting moment, I saw not just defiance but a plea for solidarity, a shared understanding of the injustice that had befallen her.

The Covey, recognizing their songbird in distress, began to sing. Their harmonies, a haunting melody of sorrow and defiance, wove through the square, amplifying the rebellious spirit that Lucy Gray embodied. It was a serenade for a fallen comrade, a hymn of resistance that reverberated through the hearts of those who dared to challenge the Capitol's iron grip.

As Lucy Gray stood there, surrounded by the harmonies of the Covey, I felt an indescribable mixture of emotions. Anguish, for the injustice that had befallen her; admiration, for her unyielding spirit; and a lingering sense of guilt for the moments of doubt that had clouded our camaraderie. The reaping square transformed into a stage for a silent revolution, and Lucy Gray, with her audacious act, had become the unwitting protagonist in a tale of defiance and sacrifice.

Driven by a surge of emotions that transcended reason, I pushed forward through the tightly packed crowd, determination burning in my veins. The air crackled with tension as I reached the front, and my heart pounded in my chest like a war drum. Lucy Gray's name lingered in the air, a haunting echo that reverberated through the square.

As I stumbled towards the platform, the weight of the moment settled on my shoulders. My voice trembled, but a resolute conviction carried me forward. "I volunteer!"

Lucy Gray, standing defiantly on the podium, shot me a perplexed frown. A silent exchange passed between us, a question lingering in her eyes. Why would I jeopardize my own safety for her? But there was no time for explanations as the Capitol's relentless proceedings demanded swift adherence.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Lucy Gray gestured towards me, her eyes mirroring a silent plea for me to reconsider. But I couldn't back down now. I couldn't let Lucy Gray face the Capitol's brutality alone.

"I volunteer to take the place of Jessup Diggs!" The words hung in the air, a courageous declaration that seemed to confound the very fabric of the reaping ceremony. Murmurs of uncertainty rippled through the crowd, unsure if such a deviation from the Capitol's script was permissible.

The Capitol's enforcers hesitated, caught off guard by the unprecedented turn of events. The air was thick with uncertainty, the collective gasp of the onlookers amplifying the tension that permeated the square. Jessup Diggs looked bewildered, unsure whether to be grateful or worried for the unexpected twist of fate.

Before the Capitol's enforcers could make sense of the situation, Jessup was roughly thrown down from the stage. A jolt of realization surged through the crowd, the unspoken understanding that the Capitol's machinations brooked no dissent. I was seized by unseen hands, dragged up to the platform, and away from the tumultuous sea of faces.

As I was pulled away, my eyes sought out Lucy Gray, who now stood alone, a solitary figure in the midst of the chaotic spectacle. Her gaze met mine, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. In that moment, I saw gratitude mixed with an unspoken sadness, a recognition of the sacrifice made in the name of defiance.

The cheers and protests of the crowd faded into the background as I was led away from the square, the consequences of my impulsive decision looming ahead. In the face of the Capitol's cruelty, I had dared to challenge the script, to rewrite the narrative of the reaping. The road ahead was uncertain, but as I cast a last glance at Lucy Gray Baird, standing alone on the podium, I knew that the seeds of rebellion had been sown, and the repercussions of my choice would resonate far beyond the confines of the reaping square.

Holy spaces & shrines in the modern norse path

Before we dive into the oh-so-diverse topic of holy spaces, let me first specify a few practical tips!

I’m very much aware that the definition of the term “holy” is deeply subjective and varies depending on one’s opinions. I’ll elaborate on a few of my thoughts on the topic further!

In no way are you bound by any rule regarding this aspect of paganism.

I will base my post off of my research, granted, but also on my personal experiences and practices!

Now, what makes a holy space sacred? Not necessarily "holy" per say, but simply sacred.

The very first factor to consider is, what is sacredness? Lots and lots of pagans engage mostly in solitary practice, so much is true. Which is why lots of us find ourselves gravitating towards spaces others may not necessarily find any sense of "sacredness" in. The corner of your room where you tend to pray the most? Sacred. Or the spot in your garden where you perform your harvest ritual every year! It’s the connection we feel to the space that makes it sacred in the first place. But a space being holy depends on whether or not we choose to anoint it in such a way.

When something is sacred to me, I tend to feel a sort of spiritual pull. A swelling of the heart, if you will, like the feeling I get when faced with a breathtaking landscape. The feeling of spiritual connection to a particular spot is the first intuition one needs to tune into when choosing a holy space. After all, staying in tune with one's intuition might be one of the most important aspect of any spiritual practice.

Within nordic practice, a holy space is often called vé, a sacred enclosure. Vé's are attested in numerous toponyms as well as ancient texts, such as Beowulf, or the Skáldskaparmál. Their omnipresence in Scandinavian toponyms might, when considered through a pagan lense, signify something quite interesting: the holiness of a space depends on the space itself, its location, rather than what's inside it— or rather, how grand and ornate it is. When building a holy space for oneself, one does not need lavish decoration, or an elaborate shrine with the gold foil and the statues.

However, there are a few steps one can follow in order to anoint a space as holy, if one wants to reconstruct a few practices from pre-Christian Scandinavia. Although I'll specify that as always, no rule is set in stone when it comes to neopaganism. The choice to abide by them or not is entirely up to the practitioner. And in any case, even as I was gathering these few ideas, it was clear that, as always, pre-Christian practices centered around holy spaces vastly differed depending on the place and the time. Regardless, I think it's fun to do some research on the topic in order to reconstruct on our own terms a holy space in the nordic tradition.

The first step? Having a good knowledge of your area. Both before and during the Viking Age, holy places were more often than not located outside. It can be a great help to know where to find the greenery in one's area. Is there a beach near home that the public has access to? How about a large park where you can spend some time alone without being bothered? Even your backyard does the trick! Anywhere you can see the sky and breathe the open air is already perfect. Now, the Germanic tribes would generally worship near an object of particular importance, such as a grove, a body of water, a clearing in the forest, a hill... Although this doesn't seem to be very present in historical attestations, and considering I'm devoted to Yngvi-Freyr, I'm an especially big fan of worshipping in plains, or fields!

I think it's important for me to note that if you are lucky enough to live near a body of water, you can choose to engage in one of the most popular forms of offering in nordic historical practice: throwing offerings out to sink into the water! This practice was especially widespread, evidence of it having been found as far as Britain and Iceland. Evidently, if one chooses to engage in such a practice, it's important to respect the ecosystems and stick with offerings that won't damage them (acorns, stones, flowers and the like). As for an outdoors shrine located in a forest, or near woodland, it would have been customary during pre-Christian times to center a holy space around a tall tree, perhaps representing the World Tree Yggdrasil.

Considering lots of neo-pagans prefer to keep their practice discreet, it goes without saying that the holy space of your choosing does not need to be especially big, nor especially decorated. It can be as small as it is humble! One of the spaces where I most like to worship is the little corner of the yard, tucked under a cedar tree, where I rebuild my hörgr every year, as soon as the snow melts for good. Nothing too flamboyant!

Now, the second step to building a little outdoors shrine for yourself is to choose a representation of the deity to adore. It's said that the human-like appearance of this representation mattered little to the Germanic tribes, whose representations of the Gods could be rather simple, and not especially ornate. For this reason, it would be perfectly logical to even choose an object associated with the deity in question to serve as the main representation placed in the sanctuary. If we're talking about Freyja, a falcon statuette, or feather could do the trick! As for Fenrir, any wolf imagery could work as well! In the case of Thórr, one could replicate the case of Donar's Oak and choose to center their shrine around a particular tree (the rowan are the oak would make the best choices, if one is to pick a tree sacred to Thórr). These are just examples, and the possibilities in this regard are limitless. This "main" representation can be used as the center of your sacred space, and given offerings during rituals or celebrations. In my case, I like greet this representation both when "entering" the sacred space and when leaving it, as a sign of respect!

If one so desires, it's possible to set up some kind of "delimitation" in order to mark the entrance of the sacred space, or its outline. I like to place either ribbons on nearby branches, or litter stones here and there to lie in a loose circle (we wouldn't want to block the rays of the sun from reaching the earth and keep the greenery from growing). In order to signal the entrance of shrines, the Germanic tribes would generally use heaps of dirt or pillars of stone, among other things.

Another intresting element one might include in their sacred space is the presence of fire! Whether this be a bonfire, incense, a simple candle or even just a handful of ash, there's lots of ways to include the "element" of fire into a modern day shrine. It's a means of warming up the space, so to speak: tending a fire in the shrine is akin to having a hearth in the home!

Ideas for common, historically attested offerings: Ethically-sourced animal bones, gold or golden jewelry, tools, representation of the Gods, beads and beaded jewelry, alcohol, food and meat…

Now, let's pull away from the history lesson and let's dive into modern, neo-pagan practice! I'd wager some of you are wondering, how exactly can one keep a whole shrine, but make their practice as low-key as possible?! After all, I know firsthand that solo practice is especially common among neo-pagans. So my answer to this question is, who said anything about keeping? One piece of advice I've already given to a few fellow pagans in the past is to create a little portable shrine all to yourself! Let me explain myself: you arrive at your chosen location, you put down a basket full of decoration and you put up a temporary space in which to worship for an hour or two. You take out a deity representation, a few candles (if they're allowed on site!), a handful of offerings and a cloth on which to place them. And when you're done with the ritual, you pack up your things and make sure you leave the site as clean as when you first found it. In other words, what I’m suggesting is the possibility of gathering a few designated worship items in order to make oneself a portable, personal little shrine! It might seem like a silly idea at first, but I’ve discovered it’s not only a fun habit, but it’s also greatly helpful on a tight schedule to have a quick and easy way to engage in outdoors practice.

As always, I wrote this post aiming to help fellow pagans find ways to balance historical practice and modern, solo practice! I hope these few ideas did the trick, and wish you all a good and plentiful spring season!

First picture

SSR Leona Kingscholar Beastly Garb Voice Lines

When Summoned: I got no interest in this old-fashioned tradition, but... I'll make everyone else give everything they got for me.

Summon Line: This is a pretty decked out fit they gave me. They must've really been looking forward to me coming home.

Groooovy!!: Doesn't matter who the opponent is. The only one deserving a win is me.

Home: Come, I'll take you on.

Swap Looks: This outfit's the only thing that's not lame about this.

Home Idle 1: The Sunrise City landscape that Lilia keeps mentioning is from a lifetime ago. He said he'd been here before, but when exactly was that...?

Home Idle 2: What kind of dishes do I recommend? Obviously, that'd be the meat. A hunk of meat roasted over an exquisite fire is especially tasty.

Home Idle 3: He's thoroughly enjoying himself here, as if he wasn't being a sourpuss at all in the beginning. I'll definitely make sure Vil does his fair share of the work after giving me all that trouble.

Home Idle - Login: This place's got nothing but wilderness for miles, as usual. So it ain't a shocker that all there is to do is nap around, don'tcha think?

Home Idle - Groovy: Kifaji's always been a noisy scold. I gotta admit, he's an excellent chess opponent, though.

Home Tap 1: I bet for you and Grim, this trip is the height of luxury. I doubt it'll be as satisfying for that little rich boy from the Asim family, though.

Home Tap 2:  Magic is strictly forbidden in Catch the Tail. Maybe I'll train you up for the next one... I kid, this ain't ever happening again.

Home Tap 3: If you want to head up to the royal palace, go ahead. But if you get caught by the guards, I'm gonna pretend I don't know you.

Home Tap 4: The textiles made in the Sunset Savanna are made of raw materials and dyes that're native here. There's no way to get them anywhere else.

Home Tap 5: Hey, hey, don't blame me if you end up accused of high treason, or anything. You're still dealing with a prince of this country here, after all.

Home Tap - Groovy: What, you want to sit in the passenger seat again? Yeah, no. You got some nerve trying to make me your driver.

Duo: [LEONA]: There's no time to fool around, Lilia. [LILIA]: Leona, you sure know how to use others.

Requested by @dorito9708.

Headcanon Crafts for Everyone I Missed Last Time:

Idril: a sculptor. She worked with every kind of stone imaginable, and often went looking for new material in Gondolin’s mines with Maeglin. (Look my Maeglin head canons are complicated but they should get to be friends the narrative has hurt them too much already) She actually preferred not to make elvish figures, instead focusing on strangely beautiful stone landscapes and various animal-like figures. She was actually responsible for Middle-Earth’s version of the gargoyle, having carved several to stand guard over Gondolin. Several elves swore that the statues moved, but she never addressed those rumors. She also liked to paint her work with bright colors, which would’ve been seen as odd back in Valinor, but fit right in in First Age Middle-Earth.

Maeglin: a smith, but his craft was more in-line with Avarin practice than Noldor practice; with much less focus on the idea of making gems and heavier focus on understanding natural geology and the properties of various gems and metals. He knew the mines of Gondolin better than anyone, and wrote plenty about the the earth under the earth. His work also had fairly significant Dwarfish influences. He liked to make mechanically complex pieces, with moving parts or even some internal gear work.

Finduilas: a hunter. Her and her father were both nature people, just in very different ways. She was silent, with all the grace of a dancer, and quick enough to outrun most of what she hunted. She preferred to go after more aggressive animals– wild boar, wolves, bears, even wargs– and leave the deer and rabbits be. She was born in Beleriand, and had never met the Valar, but sometimes, privately, offered up prayers to Orome. She liked to imagine she could’ve been in his hunt, if things had turned out a bit differently.

Celebrimbor: a smith, in the very traditional Noldor sense. Gemworker, specialized in jewelry, made various famously beautiful pieces, etc. Was never quite happy sticking to hairpins and necklaces. Longed to try his hand at imbuing his work with real power, but always talked himself out of it. A whole binder of concepts for works of power sat locked away in a chest in his workshop for centuries. He never talked to anyone about it. He was as ashamed of his feelings for his craft as he was of his feelings for his family. By the end of his life, he’d made peace with only one of those things.

Earendil: a mariner? Alright, he was definitely a mariner, and he loved the ship life– he even built a few boats of his own, in a similar fantastic style to Turgon’s architecture– but he also had a longstanding fascination with the natural world, and filled volumes and volumes of journals with information on various plants, animals, and minerals. But natural lore isn’t a recognized Noldor craft, since it involves learning but doesn’t really produce tangible results. Still, it was a passion he got from afternoons spent learning about geology with “Uncle Mole,” and one he shared with Elrond. Researching the beauty and wonder of nature gave Earendil something to do with his immortal life, and was a big part of the reason Elrond chose to be immortal at all.

Gil-Galad: a king. No, really, he’d been the high-king of the Noldor since he was a child, and hadn’t really had time for trivialities like “finding a life purpose” or “having fun.” He was too busy learning how to stay alive in late stage Beleriand (read: hell) and learning to rule the least cooperative group of elves imaginable. He wanted to be a painter, and while he found enough practice time to get good at his chosen craft; because of how long detailed paintings can take, he almost never had time to actually make anything. He tried not to let it bother him too much. He didn’t always succeed at that.

Elrond: in a bit of a weird spot. Elrond is most associated with lore and healing; but, as discussed, “lore” isn’t considered a craft. And, well. Healing had to be Elrond’s craft, right? He’d been doing it since he was seven, and just about the only person in Amon Ereb who could still use healing powers. And it was good work, and it was rewarding, even if it often left him feeling so burned out and worried that he forgot to eat or sleep. It took him a long time to admit to himself that healing for him was what fighting was to many other elves: a necessity. Truth be told, he’d rather be gardener, working with the earth to create a place of peace and beauty. Also, Elrond is basically a nature spirit. So. It was something he began to explore in the peace of the early Second Age. He found that his Ainuric powers had all sorts of interesting effects on plant life. He also learned how to breed new varieties of fruits, vegetables, and flowers. Still, he never really considered that it could be a proper craft for him. At least, not until he first saw the valley that would one day become Rivendell.

Headcanon Crafts for Finwe and his Children, the House of Feanor, the House of Fingolfin, and the House of Finarfin.

Hangman Master List

Back to Main Master List

Multi-Part Stories

THE DANGER ZONE MASTERLIST >

Left at the Altar Part 2 [*] Part 3 Epilogue [*] - Fem!Reader (Ex-Girlfriend!Reader)

CW: Suggestive/Implied Sexual Content (Part 2 and Epilogue), Angst, Exes, Pregnancy and Kids (Epilogue only)

Summary: When you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day.

COMPLETED

Sequel: Stay Away from the Altar

What is L-O-V-E? Part 2 Part 3 - Bradshaw!Fem!OC (Lena) (Ex-Wife!OC)

Summary: Lena Bradshaw (formerly Seresin) struggles once again to keep the peace between her ex-husband Jake and her older brother Bradley for her son's sake. And the uranium facility mission only seems to heighten the stakes of it all.

DISCONTINUED

Prologue To Be a Man Part 2 Part 3 - Wife!OC (Sophie)

CW: Secret Marriage; Non-Traditional Family Dynamics; Marriage of Convenience; Type 1 Diabetes

Summary: Hangman is married. And it’s no one else’s business.

PART 4 COMING SOON

Blood in the Water - Cain!OC (Alina)

CW: Arranged & Political Marriage; Post-Apocalypse AU with a Medieval Feel; Blatant Sexism; Abuse from Family Members

Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world, the livable landscape is carved up by warlords. After a long war with the Dagger Clan, the Cain Empire has been defeated, but peace cannot be brokered without a sacrifice. Hangman assumes that a marriage is that sacrifice. Cain thinks that Hangman’s death is a better trade.

DISCONTINUED

Never Have I Ever Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 - Civilian Contractor! Female! Reader (Dove)

CW: Not Necessarily Healthy Decisions/Coping Mechanisms; Shy! Reader; Slow Burn; Coworkers to Friends to Lovers; Excessive Pining

Summary: Dove is tired of being stereotyped as the nice, quiet girl who's so innocent it hurts. So, who does she call to help her? Hangman.

PART 4 COMING SOON

One Shots

Wedding Day - Fem!Reader

Summary: Hangman falls in love with his wife all over again when he sees her in her wedding dress for the first time.

I'll Carry You - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

Summary: Hangman and his wife attend a naval ball. When her shoes give her blisters, Hangman ensures that she gets back to the car comfortably.

Lunch Break [*] - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

CW: Suggestive Situations/Content

Summary: Jake and his wife are going through a dry spell. Luckily, his secretary Linda is the best wingwoman in all of Miramar.

A Morning Work Out - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

CW: Implied Sexual Content

Summary: Jake goes through his normal morning routine with his son and wife.

Beach Day - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

CW: Referenced Sexual Innuedos/Situations

Summary: Jake and his wife enjoy a beach day with their three kids.

Stay Away from the Altar - Wife!Reader; Fem!Seresin!OC / Male!Bradshaw!OC

CW: (Over)protective Dad!Hangman; Angst; Fighting; Rebellious Teenagers; Crying; References to Previous Pregnancy Scares

Summary: Jake isn't ready to accept that his daughter is growing up. And he's definitely not ready to accept that his daughter seems to have fallen for Rooster's spawn.

A Little Tag-a-Long - Female!Reader (Peach)

Summary: Hangman is excited to finally take out Peach, the woman that he's been in love with for months now. Except Peach gets called into babysitting duty right before their date.

A Happy Fourth - Wife!Reader

CW: Implied Sexual Content; Outdoor Shower

Summary: You and Hangman enjoy your Fourth of July together.

Three Four, That’s the Magic Number - Wife!Reader

CW: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; (Failed) Vasectomies; Threats of Kicks to the Balls

Summary: You thought that three kids was it. But apparently your husband, Hangman, didn't have as successful of a vasectomy as you initially thought.

The Love Game - Fem!Reader (Glitch)

CW: Unrequited Love; Angst; Emotional Angst; One-Sided Relationship; ‘He’s in Love with Someone Else’ Trope

Summary: Glitch has been in love with Hangman for years but he’s getting married to another woman.

A.N. Multiple Pairings: Hangman/Glitch; Hangman/Fem!OC; Glitch /Mystery Dagger

Gray - Fem!Reader

CW: Jake’s Sad; Showering Together; Half-Naked Cuddling

Summary: You try to cheer your boyfriend Hangman up.

Little Seresin - Wife!Reader

Summary: You surprise your husband by putting your daughter in an opposing team's jersey.

Any TTRPGs where 'Genderfuckery' (i.e. playing around with gender in some form - trans characters, nb characters, in-game genderbending, crossdressing, etc etc - anything that 'fucks around' with gender and conventional ideas of gender) is a central mechanic or thematic element in some form?

Heaven is Here, by Rae Nedjadi.

This is a game that is deeply stepped in magical surrealism, it is desperately mundane, it is laughter in a coffee shop, and sacrifices made to the moon. It is friendship bound up in art, in gender, and what it means to be human.

This game uses the Belonging Outside Belonging system, which encourages collaborative storytelling with simple rules. You are artists, people made of many layers caught up in entanglements with one another. You are magical beings, because to create art is to create magic. Art is expression and creation, tied intimately with who you are and who you wish to be. Discover what inspires you and what holds you back. What does your art mean to you? How do you feel about the art others create? What new forms of inspiration will you uncover?

Rae describes gender in this game as ever shifting. As artists, your gender is connected to your art and what you love. It is a game about big questions in mundane scenarios, called Moments. Currently there are four playbooks and four Moments, as the game is still in development, so it is likely best experienced in a smaller group.

Giant Metal Bodies, by TheGiftofGabes.

You have a Giant Metal Body. If you run out of juice, you’ll probably die, but you might just flee to die another day. If you survive at the end of your mission, it doesn’t matter. The war will continue to try and kill you another time. If you die, it doesn’t matter. The war doesn’t care about your sacrifice.

Giant Metal Bodies is a game about what it means to be a Giant Metal Body in a war much bigger than you, that doesn't care about you, and which will destroy you no matter what.

I know that there’s been a lot of talk about trans allegories in mech stories, so this game feels like a very fitting way to talk about the trans experience using tragic themes. It was also submitted to the Trans Fucking Rage Jam on Itch a year or so back, which likely has a number of submissions that you might find interesting!

Expanse, by TheTrueToad.

Expanse" is a short solo-RPG made for pondering and expressing one's own gender. Create an expansive map of values, colors, and textures for the landscape of your gender.

I love the example aspects that you can choose from in this game. You have your traditional genders, such as Masculine, Feminine, and Androgynous, but you also have options such as Purple, Timid, Voidlike and Witty. You will map out a landscape that represents your gender by drawing from a regular deck of playing cards, and reading the associated prompts. Each house in the deck responds to a different categories of aspects. I definitely am interested in how this game can provide alternate ways to think about gender; and you can create a lovely map along the way!

This game was made for the Trans Joy Jam, the counterpart for the Trans Rage Jam.

Elf Genders, by Lucian Kahn.

Elf Genders is a worldbuilding tool for creating your own new systems of fantasy genders. Most humans are women, men, or nonbinary, but maybe elves are… something else? Elf Genders helps you decide what!

This is not an rpg, but if you want to fuck with the genders of your fantasy game, this is a great place to start. This is a game session (or sessions, if you get really into it) to help you establish a setting and lore details of your elven folk, and what gender means for an elf. If you or your game group already have a game in mind, this is definitely worth looking at.

AetherNet, by Legendary Vermin.

The Internet as we know it ceased to exist after The Incursion, and in its place the sprawling Virtual Hyperreality of the Æthernet stretches horrible and festering in every direction. Plumb its depths in search of riches, miracles and ruins that the keepers of the mundane world will pay heartily for, just beware of the Daemons and UNGODS waiting for you in its depths, hoping to bend and shape your flesh to their own ends.

Make a character in seconds, ruin them for hours. The Player Book contains the minimum essential rules and setting information, and the Ref's Handbook fills in the other rules and tables you need to run the game.

The game itself takes place in a dystopian cyberpunk future where magic and technology are connected - and dangerous. There is actually a section in AetherNet titled “Genders” that asks you to roll 1d2 (or flip a coin) and roll a d6. This will give you one out of 12 options for your gender, which include options such as “a daemon bound you into a pact” or “once, you were a ship or space station and its crew”. Your Gender can also be changed or corrupted as you play, gaining qualities such as “without fear” or “too persuasive.” This is the most wild example of gender I’ve seen in a game so far, and I definitely recommend you check it out.

Sleepaway, by Possum Creek Games.

Sleepaway gives us long hazy days, chilled summer nights, kids screaming and chasing fireflies, crackling campfires, and a gaunt, cruel monstrosity forever hiding just out of sight, always asking, “What do you do next?”

In Sleepaway, you play as a group of camp counselors at a not-so-ordinary summer camp besieged by a strange and ominous cryptid, the monstrous Lindworm. It is a GMless horror game for 3-6 players, which uses the Belonging Outside Belonging system created by Avery Alder and Ben Rosenbaum. In it, players take control of not only their characters (which include archetypes like the Lifeguard, the Songleader, the Crafter, or the Athlete) but also the world around them, picking up Setting Elements to react to their friend's decisions. As the game goes on, the players also invite the Lindworm to play with them, causing horrific events to callously occur throughout the place space.

A Belonging Outside Belonging game, Sleepaway is a game that can be played without a GM, because each player will pick up a setting element sheet and be responsible for it throughout game play. This is the closest to what I was looking for when it came to gender, because your characters have gender options such as “A Robin,” and “A Particular Colour.” The game itself is a great setting to explore danger and liminal spaces, as summer camps are excellent places for self-discovery, as they take place away from your typical surroundings. Also, Possum Creek Games has a well-deserved reputation for making games that play well and make you feel something. You should definitely check it out.

Games I've Recommended in the Past

Women are Werewolves, by 9th Level Games.

Wanderhome, by Possum Creek Games.

Blood Feud, by Bläckfisk Publishing.

Gay Crime, Sapphics Against Capital, by Evey Lockhart.

Here, There Be Monsters! by wendi yu.

Dream Askew / Dream Apart, by Buried Without Ceremony.

A twist in time

Pairing: Captain America Chris Evans x Male Reader x Superman Henry Cavill

Summary: A sudden ravaging force made its rampage through space and time, causing an unwanted rupture within the greater omniverse. The citizens of earth are left broken, sorrowful, and desperate as it seems all hope is lost. The only faith left in humanity stands within two veteran superheroes, both from different timelines. They two are on the verge of giving up as Earth is expected to reach its end, but a certain someone might be the last thing keeping them going

Word count: 3.3k+

Warnings: 18+, Heavy angst, mentions of family loss, mass poverty, hunger, depression, slight dirty thoughts, kissing, mugging, mentions of sexual assault, fluff, death, crying

A/N: Hey everyone! Back with another fic. I decided to try something different, this one is definitely more emotional and heavy than my other fics. Please let me know, in the comments, if you guys like this style! Thanks!

*FLASHBACK 6 months prior to the tragedy*

"Three, two, one- Happy birthday dad!" you exclaimed as the people around you cheered and hollered in celebration of your wonderful father's 55th birthday. The atmosphere was ebullient and blissful. You were surrounded by all your friends and loved ones, what could possibly go wrong?

Your life was quite typical, nothing eccentric ever happened, you just lived a normal American life.

A bright smile emerged onto your father's face as he blew the candles out on his cake, such a campy, traditional method of celebrating a birthday. "Oh thank you everyone! You guys have truly made this such a memorable day for me! God bless you a-" your dad couldn't even finish his last word before the ground beneath you violently flipped and the world around you collapsed in mere seconds.

A boisterous cacophony filled the air as a great, morose darkness consumed the world as you knew it. An immense dizziness poisoned your head as you arose from the coarse ground. A feeling of deep disparity and confusion puzzled your brain as your eyes slowly became crystal pools.

How quickly the atmosphere changed

The most beloved people in your lives were all happy in one place, celebrating a great event; the next thing you know, those same people lay beside you, their bodies lifeless, clothed in debris. You tried to stand up but a stinting pain penetrated your skin, right below you kneecaps. You could only crawl your way through the endless amount of rubble and bodies that surrounded you. You made your way out the door of the party venue to see the most intriguing, yet absolutely horrifying landscape you've ever seen in your life.

Absolutely pandemonium

Skyscrapers crumbling into the ground, children frenetically running around - trying desperately to find their parents - , the sounds of screams and cries scattered across the city as fear consumed everybody's souls. The wind brushed your face as you watched the city you grew up in, fall to ruins in an instant.

"What the hell happened?" you thought to yourself, witnessing absolute global destruction.

"What exactly caused this? A natural disaster? Terrorist attacks?"

None. What happened was beyond any human's comprehension. A force of mass hatred, destruction, and hunger powered through space and time. A pan-dimensional entity, fueled by enmity, was on a quest to consume the infinite cosmos, and it has just reached Earth.

But in the midst of all this chaos, two blue figurines caught your eye as they blazed through all the commotion and falling buildings. A sudden ray of light in the ever-growing darkness, a spark of hope in an infinite pit of sorrow. You tried to make out who the two beings were, they were moving so fast, they looked, inhuman. You limped over to a stop sign, trying to make out what it was.

A more clear sight of the heroes stunned you as you could finally make out the two images: what looked to be, Captain America and Superman of all people.

But it couldn't be, right? They only existed in fiction and were just a simple idea of mankind. But it was real, it was so real. They were humanity's last hope, their only hope.

*FLASHFORWARD to present day*

You finally woke up from your everlasting slumber. After everyone you loved was gone, taking your life seemed to be the best option to end the endless cycle of pain and loss you felt. The shelter you stayed at wasn't amazing either; all the citizens of your city crammed into one facility, trying to make ends meet.

And this morning was no different from any other, the unpleasant smell of expired food painted a sour expression on your face.

You slouched off the bed, dragging your limbs to the door of your bunk. A tear staining your cheek as you reminisced the days where you were happy, when you had people you could turn to; all that down the drain, and now, you had no one.

It's been days since you left your bunk. You practically trapped yourself here, never wanting to interact with another human ever again. But your body was calling out to you: you were so fucking hungry.

Even though you grew extremely distant from the world, something fueled you to keep going, almost like, a fire igniting deep inside you. You opened the door, greeted by the cold, smoky air; something everyone was quite used to at this point.

You walked over to the bathrooms, the stench that grew on you starting to really bemuse you. The door opened and, there he was. The ever-so-infamous Captain America.

You stared into his cold blue eyes, his blond hair elegantly quaffed.

"Can I help you?" he asked, staring down at your much smaller figure.

You were completely taken aback by his daunting appearance. He was tall, around 6'2", stacked with muscle and chiseled to the bone. His eyebrow raised as he waited for your response, crossing his arms, showing off his biceps that were accented by his white tank top.

"Chris Evans?" you said, still suspicious of who the man really was.

"Who? I'm not really sure who that is. I'm surprised you don't know me" he said, questioning what you just said.

"Steve Rogers, Captain America, some might say, pleasure to meet you" holding his hand out for you to shake it.

You hesitantly shook his hand, still not completely sure what was going on.

"Pleasure to meet y-you too. H-how exactly are you, real?" you asked, staring into his eyes.

"Haha yeah I know this whole get up seems funny, but I'm 100% real. I know the muscles and the good looks are a lot, but I'm just a kid from Brooklyn, a really, really lucky kid from Brooklyn" he chuckled.

You didn't exactly know how to feel. You felt like you were in some kind of virtual reality, what else could it be? You were talking to Captain America of all people! But little did you know that reality was nothing but a concept, a toy for a greater entity to play with.

Besides the fact that you were talking to a literal superhero, something else was puzzling your brain. A feeling that coursed through your brain, the feeling of, love. You just met this man, but you wanted him, you absolutely needed him.

"Uhm, it was nice meeting you. It's great to talk to someone else that isn't Superman, oh that selfless log. But uhm, yeah, I'll see you soon. And what was your name again? I don't remember if you told me?" he said, putting on a tight muscle shirt.

"Y/N" you said, cheeks flustered bright pink.

"Y/N, I like that name. Well, see you soon, Y/N"

You watched as the man walked into the facility base, completely awestruck by his charm. If only you knew that those same feelings were rumbling inside his stomach.

You washed up, put on a new pair of clothes, and made your way to the dining hall. You were so beyond hungry, a simple bowl of cereal could fulfill your needs. You got in line at the kitchen as the lunch ladies put some gray porridge onto your plate.

The fresh look on your small face disappeared at the sight of maggots and flies crawling around your "breakfast". You sat down as you forced the muddy slop into your mouth; you felt your tastebuds begin to suffer and cry as you continued eating it.

That's when you felt a strong hand grab your shoulder, its grip tight and sturdy.

"Hey Y/N! It's me again, haha. I'd like to introduce you to my friend. This is Clark, I'm sure you know all about him, but the people in this world are pretty different from mine."

"Hey there Y/N, Clark Kent, you probably know me as Superman"

"Hi! Huge fan. But, I'm confused. I know things are pretty crazy, but how exactly did you, come to life? I mean on this Earth, I don't know about your earth, Captain America and Superman are just fictional characters" you said, still completely puzzled by the two heroes' existences

They both looked at each with great confusion and ambivalence.

"Listen, Y/N. We're just as confused as you are, nothing really makes sense right now. We've lost so many lives, lots of good people, but there's no solid explanation. From what we know, there's something, out there. We're not quite sure what it is but it's slowly destroying reality as we know it. I guess this thing caused a rift in the space time continuum, that's why we're on this planet. Everything is so, unfamiliar" Clark said, his voice a little raspy and shaken.

"We're trying everything we can to save the world but, nothing's working" Steve said, his hand rubbing his chin.

"Well I think it's best for you two to stay strong! Come on! The world's Earth's defenders can defend Earth! I believe in you guys" you said, full of optimism. You farewelled the two men before leaving the dining room. Clark's eyes immediately scanned your ass, his x-ray vision seeping through your pants.

"Oh someone's got a little crush" Steve giggled, cleaning up some of the tables.

"H-hey! That's not true! I'm loyal!" Clark yelled, sounding furious.

"Loyal to someone who's dead? Yeah that doesn't exist anymore"

All Clark saw was red, he grabbed Steve's neck, gripping it tightly as he looked Steve deep in the eye.

"You wanna repeat that Captain?" he said, his eyes starting to glow a scarlet red.

"H-hey hey! Easy man, I was just playing, don't take it personally"

Clark let go of Steve's neck, still a little irritated by Steve's ignorant comment.

"Sorry, it's just Lois' death, I can't live without her" Clark said, his eye sockets beginning to fill with tears.

Clark never talked about his feelings, he was Superman, after all. Steve was the only person who knew of Clark's depression after Lois' death.

"Hey, you have a lot to live for! You're Superman! You're my best bud, I lost my family, my best friend, my colleagues, and I still stay with my head up. And besides, Y/N is mine" Steve said, with slight sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah right. He'd choose me in a fucking heartbeat. Like you said, I'm Superman"

"Oh please! Y/N has known me for longer and don't forget, I'm Captain America!"

"Fuck you" Clark murmured under his breath.

"In your dreams"

*FLASHFORWARD 30 minutes later*

You decided to take some time outside of the facility, take a trip down memory lane, if you will. You walked out of the gates and into the city, tears filled your eyes as you saw the city you loved, smashed to pieces.

You walked on the sidewalk, the same sidewalk you took on the way to school, the memories bringing an immense bittersweet feeling.

You lived in the heart of NYC, the city was bustling with people everyday. Now the city has become a dour ruin, nothing more than debris, rubble, and smoke.

You turned the corner of a run-down building and crossed a dark alleyway. But the sight of the alleyway left you completely frozen in fear and anxiety.

Seven cloaked men were huddling up when they noticed you, their eyes went from bloodshot with drugs to lustful.

"Oh look who it is? A beautiful little doe? What're you doing in these parts?" the tallest man said, his large figure terrifying you.

You instantly ran out of the alleyway and started running back to the facility. Your adrenaline kicked in as the men chased you, getting closer and closer with each step.

You turned the corner of an abandoned hospital and just your luck: a dead end.

The men cornered you, rubbing their hands together, prepared to do horrible things to you.

"Oh what a beautiful thing you are!" the tallest man said as the men grabbed you and pinned you against the wall. Their cold, grimy hands removing your pants from your body. Slapping and fondling with your cheeks, ready to remove your last layer of protection.

The big man's hand groped your thigh as he stuck his hand down your underwear, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"P-please, hel-" you yelped out before a seeming gust of wind whipped past your face; and in an instant, the men were gone.

The daunting nightmare you were living in all disappeared.

"W-what was that?" you thought to yourself before a tall blue figure slowly descended to the ground.

"You really shouldn't be here, Y/N. There's dangerous people that might hurt you" Clark said, the slightest bit of sarcasm in his voice.

You rolled your eyes as the man nonchalantly stood there.

"Oh not even a thank you, Y/N? Come on!" he scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Thank you, Clark" you said, trying to walk out of the alleyway before a large hand strongly gripped your waist.

"I think I deserve a bigger apology, Y/N. I saved your life you know?" he whispered, his face practically inches away from yours now.

"W-what do you want from me? Are you gonna mug me too?" You tried to squirm out of his grip, your efforts completely useless against his otherworldly strength.

Your crystal blue eyes sunk into his before he connected his smooth pink lips onto yours. The atmosphere around you completely changed as the warm and tender feeling of absolute love filled the air.

He softly grabbed the back of your neck, stroking your hair as he caressed your soft, black hair. You were so in love. Delicate butterflies swarmed your stomach as the most powerful being on Earth, was passionately kissing you.

Minutes passed by, seemingly hours, nothing could ever separate you two. He pulled out, making you whine, desperate to feel the man again.

"Let's go home, baby" he kindly gestured, grabbing your waist before flying back to the city, you, completely safe and secure in his grip.

But little did you know that you and Clark had a small audience present at your love filled show. Steve

Absolute anger and envy consumed his body as he stood there, hidden behind a mailbox. Tears jerked from his eyes as his new best friend was kissing the love of his life.

"Damn it! DAMN IT!" he yelled out, kicking a trash can next to him, completely enraged. But not even Steve was alone, the city was filled with poverty; the people who ended up trapped in the city were left hopeless. Unfortunately their guardian angel never showed up.

Steve was a mess. A pit of sorrow planted in his stomach as he walked back to the facility. But a certain woman ran out from the corner, her clothes ragged and dirty.

"P-please help us! I-if you can't take me, please take my baby! I beg you!" she cried, holding up a crying baby to Steve's face.

"Get away from me! You dirty hag!" he screamed, pushing the woman.

Steve's sudden change in attitude left a toll on him; the new Steve wasn't interested in saving people, he just wanted to be with you, forever.

*FLASHFORWARD 30 minutes*

You sat in your bed, still jovial about your little moment with Clark, you really loved him.

*knock*

"Who could it be?" you thought, opening the door.

It was Steve. His angry eyebrows and tall figure scaring you as he walked into your bunk, locking the door.

"Do you know why I'm here, Y/N?"

You gulped, sweat accumulated on your forehead as you stared at the man.

"N-no"

"Why you little-" he scoffed, grabbing your collar, pulling you toward him.

"Listen, you little slut. I know what you and Clark did. Don't think he loves you, Y/N. You really think he does? He just needs a filler because Lois is gone. Don't be stupid, Y/N. You're mine! Alright?" he said, his breath hot and heavy.

Your eyes became pools as the man you trusted, respected, loved, called you a slut. You ran out of your room, your feelings hurt and betrayed. At this point, who could you turn to?

"W-wait! Y/N! Oh Fuck! What have I become?" Steve cried, his hands holding face as the love of his life just ran away from him.

You ran into Clark's bunk, knowing he was the only person you could trust right now, and hugged him.

"Y/N? W-what's wrong baby? I hate to see you cry" he said, caressing your hair.

"I-it's nothing. Steve, he's, upset. I think he saw what we did."

"Steve? Oh you're kidding!" he laughed out.

"I knew he liked you! But I didn't know he liked you, that much. Don't be sad, Y/N. Steve is just, very emotional. His emotions take over his actions and I guess he was just not feeling it. I'm sure he'll apologize, take my word for it" Clark said, hugging you tightly.

Coincidentally, Steve walked into Clark's bunk, a pile of dead flowers in his hand.

"H-hey, Y/N. Sorry about earlier. I, I don't know what came over me, I was just, really, really jealous. If you two are happy together, I shouldn't come in the way of that. I want you to be happy. Please forgive me" he kindly apologized, awkwardly giving you the flowers.

"Aw, thanks Steve. Don't stress it, I guess why you would want me" you giggled, holding the withering flowers.

"Thank you, Y/N" he said, tears falling down his cheeks as he hugged you, his grip firm and tender.

Clark watched as you two made up, a warm smile drawn on his face as happiness filled the air.

*FLASHFORWARD 2 weeks*

Things couldn't have been better between you three. You weren't necessarily dating but, you were hopelessly in love with the two men.

"Hey, Y/N! You wanna come help me serve dinner?" Steve said, gesturing his hand to you.

You walked over to the kitchen, the food quality definitely improved from back then. Everything was perfect. Even if the majority of the Earth was in ruins, you were in love.

Then it happened.

The ground flipped beneath you and Steve, the walls of the facility crumbling down, debris falling from above.

"Y/N! Y/N! Are you okay?" Steve cried out, searching for you in the midst of all the concrete.

"S-steve! I n-need help!" you groaned, as your skinny body was trapped beneath a large refrigerator.

Steve rushed to your aid, effortlessly prying the fridge off of you, scooping you up before you two ran out of the facility.

The horrors you faced outside were like none before. Whatever ruined the Earth before, was back, and it was back for more.

Everything was being sucked in. All the last remnants of Earth being eaten by this demonic force.

Steve tightly held onto you, not wanting to be separated. Your screams broke his heart as the world was nearing an end.

"Y/N!" Clark yelled, flying down from the sky, holding onto you and Steve.

"Y/N! We can't hold on much longer! We have to help the other people! We, we love you, Y/N!" they cried, before letting go of you. However safe you felt earlier, was all gone as they let go of you.

"Clark! Steve! Where are you guys! Please! Answer me!" you yelled, trying to find the two men, running around the destroyed facility.

You've been through plenty of trauma; you already witnessed the first end of the Earth but nothing was quite like this.

Your eyes looked up as the ambiguous image of the sky filled your eyes.

That's when you saw it

It was Clark and Steve. Their bodies were being hopelessly sucked into the primordial force, their efforts to fight back, completely useless.

"Y/N! We, we love you!" they yelled, before their bodies were sucked into the abyss.

"Why should I live?"

"What did I do to deserve this?"

Thoughts that filled your head as you fell to your knees. Your heart shattered into countless pieces as you just witnessed the death of the only two people you loved.

Love is bittersweet. It's good while it lasts, but, when it's gone, it hurts.

You hurt

THE END

230906 Vogue Korea's Instagram Reel

(See video for Q&A translation.)

#협찬 #VogueView 보테가 베네타가 후원하는 강서경 작가의 전시 <버들 북 꾀꼬리>에서 만난 방탄소년단의 RM. 전통적이면서 동시대적이고 평면과 조각, 영상과 퍼포먼스를 아우르는 공감각적 풍경 속에서 RM의 시선이 향한 지점에 대해 물었습니다. 그가 발견하고 느낀 것 그리고 RM에게 사적의 의미의 예술이란? 지금 영상으로 만나보세요. <버들 북 꾀꼬리>는 9월 7일부터 12월 31일까지 리움미술관에서 관람할 수 있습니다. digital director MINJI KWON film GOLDEN PARIS FILM -@rkive @sukiskang #RM #BTS #방탄소년단 #강서경 #SukiSeoKyeongKang #BottegaVeneta #보테가베네타 #BottegaVenetaInSeoul #보테가베네타인서울

#Sponsored #VogueView We met with RM of BTS at the "Willow Drum Oriole" exhibition by Seokyeong Kang, in partnership with Bottega Veneta. We asked him about the aspects that caught his attention in this synesthetic landscape that, while endowed with both traditional and contemporary sensitivities, spreads across surfaces, sculptures, videos, and performances. How did RM feel during his visit and what is his personal definition of art? Watch the video below to find out.

The "Willow Drum Oriole" exhibition will grace the galleries of the Leeum Museum of Art from Sept. 7 to Dec. 31, 2023.

digital director MINJI KWON film GOLDEN PARIS FILM - @rkive @sukiskang #RM #BTS #SukiSeoKyeongKang #BottegaVeneta#BottegaVenetaInSeoul

Trans cr; Rinne @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

Link to the video

What I've Learned About Teaching Art

I've had the privilege of teaching art in a variety of environments - from still life oil painting at the college level, to combining art with science and history in a museum setting, to guiding highschool students through creating a comics anthology. Through these very different settings, I've found a list of constants that, when I keep them in mind, help me deliver the most enjoyable and effective art education for my students. One of my core beliefs is that art is, at the heart of it all, something a student must teach themself, and that a classroom, workshop, or camp that wants to teach art is actually responsible for creating an environment and offering projects that facilitate that self-driven learning. With that on the table, here is the pantheon of truths that, if I can hold on to all of them, help me create that learning environment:

- Almost no one is inherently unable to draw. Additionally, everyone can improve at drawing. With the wealth of "traditional" media, digital tools, and thousands upon thousands of years of art history with which we can map the possibility space, it seems obvious that if someone wants to make art, then they absolutely can.  If they want to draw, then no teacher should ever, EVER tell a student that they "can't." The teacher's role is usually to take a student who already secretly believes they can't draw and help them see both the breadth of possibilities and the potential within themselves to improve whatever skills they start with. - Drawing is not always about making a beautiful image. The obsession with one kind of "good drawing" creates an artificial limit on who is allowed to draw. Sometimes being an art teacher is about expanding a student's definition of art as opposed to pushing their frustrated and dejected pencil along a path towards a narrow goal. The reality is that even within pop culture we see so many gorgeous kinds of art! Beyond that, aiming superficially as an artist for a particular surface result will almost always create lesser work than creating an understand of underlying processes and theories that helped the "good art" come into existence. - Drawing can teach new ways of seeing. Observing with the intent of drawing can transform how a person perceives the world. So much of teaching art is teaching visual literacy, the literal act of reading meaning within visual input, whether that's a still image, a film, a building or a natural landscape. When you motivate students to read visuals by providing them with new ways to understand creating visuals, you jump start their investment in visual literacy. - Drawing can help us think about things differently. Thinking can shift along with modes of seeing - what is a structural way of thought? What is a compositional way of thought? When you teach art, you must teach a student to look at things holistically and in granular elements - besides just enhancing thought processes moving between the two states, you can get much more discovery in the analytical and planning modes of appreciating and creating artwork. - Drawing from reference is as educational as reading. Learning to examine visual reference closely creates a new kind of literacy - visual literacy. Drawing from reference, especially with guided or motivated questions to be answered, can create an opportunity for modes of analysis that students don't get to otherwise use. Developing visual observation and creating a practice of looking both closely and holistically can create a layered understanding of the subject. Even students resistant to traditional still life drawing processes can find benefit in using drawing to answer self-guided questions. - Learning by making art is a valid mode of learning. Making art can be a mode of learning that both alternates between input and output and creates a sense of ownership/agency in both modes. The hands on creative process is a kind of guess and check system that can be designed carefully to allow students to make a wide variety of types of decisions, and teaches them to create goals and investigate what processes will best allow them to achieve said goals. - Competition with each other or with some imagined ideal will deflate artistic potential. An art classroom cannot have winners and losers based on "quality" of final piece. Art education will benefit more students if it is process oriented. Quality, even in straightforward skills based art education, can still be subjective, and unless it's an aggressive battle Royale for some exclusive prize, the intent of any art programming is not to find the single best but to encourage each student to improve. So don't be a dick about it. - Art is a product of restraints. Material, process, time, subject or conceptual restraints allow for a kind of focused play. Giving students free reign is in itself a huge challenge of self direction, goal setting and prioritization. Making some of those choices for them gives them a chance to focus their own learning. - Materials change the kind of engagement. Diverse materials allow for diverse engagement. Just as subject matter can affect a student's personal investment in a project, the material or method of art making can change their engagement. Changing between drawing and painting, reductive or additive sculpting, stenciling or stamping, will not only change the tactile experience of art making but will affect the modes of thought used to make creative choices. - Venue or audience transform art. Pressure to show, and to whom, can change students self imposed limitations. Defining an audience will change and add pressure to art creation. This can help students hold themselves to a higher standard, but can also frighten or overwhelm them. Audience needs can be a useful limit or influence on the direction of an art project, but audience pressure needs to be modulated to the response of each student. - Art is most interesting when it leaves the comfort zone of its creator. This can only happen in a classroom where students feel safe to take risks. Art, even when the subject matter is utterly anonymous or benign, can be a hugely risky-feeling process. Even the act of making art in a classroom environment can feel frightening; if we want students to fully engage, and to take the artistic risks that allow them to learn, we have to spend class time making the classroom into a safe space for the students. This probably needs to be it's own post so I'll leave it there for now and come back and expand upon it in detail in future. - Subject engagement transforms art. Students with something to say about their subject may push themselves farther. Caring about the subject can be a blessing or a curse for a student - deep subject investment can drive problem solving around how best to present it in the artwork, while deep subject investment can also overwhelm a student with self imposed pressure and even a large dose of imposter syndrome. Therefore it can always be useful to intersperse self selected subject matter with "boring" or at least not emotionally significant subjects, to relieve some of the pressure and allow students to instead respond to the process alone. - Ownership of a process will empower students. Whether they've designed a process, built their own materials or set their own goals, agency gives students investment. One of the most exciting things about art is that students have a lot of potential control and thus ownership - they will always be making choices, and those choices are potentially exciting because they directly affect the outcome. You can increase this sense of ownership or investment in the class by facilitating student-made materials, like sketchbooks or mark-making tools; or by facilitating student-led exercises or challenges or projects. - Demos will guide what others make and must be done carefully. Demoing can empower and at the same time overwhelm or impose limits on the viewers. Demoing must be designed to specific goals of each assignment. Eg: if you want students to use surgical techniques to explore value, or depth, or composition, whole you absolutely have to demo the technique didactically, you need to be careful not to be didactic about the results you want in relationship to the subject of exploration. Showing a wide range of potential approaches can help in classrooms where students can handle large info dumps, but often it's better to demo the technique, get them trying it out without further instruction, and then redirect then to the topic of exploration as stage 2. - Material potential can power a room. Art supplies can be motivating all on their own. Getting excited about them can make it safe for the students to get excited as well. There are many different supplies available to teach art with, and trying different ones can add a lot of excitement to the room even if your topic of instruction is narrow. Getting excited about materials can change the mood of a classroom entirely. - Criticism must engage with the student's goals or it will work against you. Setting goals, and then reflecting on them, is key to art education as so much of art is self directed. If you then ignore that setup and approach critique without listening to your students' internal direction and goals and at minimum acknowledging them, they will not find your critique constructive. This goes for young children all the way to adults - you need to be in dialogue with them. - Open discussion and open ended questions will always help. Once you've found a way to make the classroom a safe space, group discussion powered by open ended questions can open everyone's mind up to broader possibilities. One on one conversation also benefits hugely from open ended questions and encouraging students to reflect and investigate their own process and practice. - Letting students share their learning is important to help the class grow beyond your own limited experiences. Students will often still feel in competition with each other, so instituting non-competitive collaboration and sharing will be important to minimizing classroom tension. This can be demonstrated first with art games and developed into collaborative processes on more serious projects. - You can never clarify the instructions enough. Always repeat yourself, be prepared to repeat demos, have a written list of instructions and delegate helpers. Breaking projects up into stages can help with detailed instructions, but always show an overview first. Art is overwhelming and there is no process so simple everyone is automatically good at it. Accurate following of a process will often help students who are unsure of themselves prove themselves to be competent and your job as the teacher is to make sure they have everything they need to do that. - Techniques are best remembered when students use them to solve specific problems. Show how applicable to different problems a technique is during demos. Be prepared to reteach or to teach new techniques whenever students hit a wall. Encourage them to reflect over the techniques they have at hand to see if there's a new way to use one that could solve their problem. - Art is mostly learned by doing. Material literacy is gained only through material exploration. If you spend too much time talking/demoing before they get to try the materials the enthusiasm can fade. If you have a student who is frightened of doing it wrong, the most important thing is to make a safe space for them to do it wrong, because that's the only way to eventually do it right. These are all best case scenario tips - and while I've tested them all to know they work, it's still hard work to keep everything in play in every classroom. I'm hopeful that having this written list will help me, and maybe by sharing I can help others as well. Art is a privilege to teach, but I believe it is incredibly important for everyone to get to learn it, in a safe environment where the effects of an art practice can be the most beneficial. Are you teaching a creative subject? What are some techniques or core values you bring to your classroom? Read the full article

Um…hello! Your art is like a HUGE inspiration to me how you draw everyone is so unique, I love it! So I just wanted to ask what inspired you and your art to what it is today?

(hopefully I explained that correctly ;w;)

oh my gosh, thank you! :D :D :D I've been feeling pretty down about my art lately, so this was a super nice message to wake up to! one of the easiest traps to fall into is forgetting that other people are seeing your art without all the baggage and hangups that your brain has given it, and sometimes...they might actually like it? hmm. 🤔 (seriously though, that really is incredible to hear, thank you! 💕)

inspiration is really really hard to put into words. so I apologize if none of this makes sense! :') a lot of it comes from looking at things I like, trying to break down what it is that I like about them, and smooshing all those pieces together into some kind of amalgamated homunculus. I'll see something that uses a lot of straights vs curves, go "ooh", and then just start throwing those in there until it is fully absorbed into the gelatinous mess that is Developing An Artstyle. or I'll see some pretty soft-style shading, go "ooh", and then decide I'm not meshing with it and try something else. just, like, being open and trying different things and seeing what sticks, I guess!

overall, I would say I was mostly shaped by the Western media landscape of the early 2000s, when anime was becoming more mainstream and starting to show influence on Western cartoons; I think particular works that influenced me were Sailor Moon, Utena, the works of Takahashi Rumiko, Samurai Jack, Batman Beyond, and Bone. (there's also the French movie Princes et Princesses -- which is itself a homage to The Adventures of Prince Achmed -- which...yeah, you can basically take one look at it and see the effect it had on me.) and there are probably a lot of other things that I didn't consciously realize!

on a more philosophical level, one of my teachers once said to me that "the art that you like to look at isn't necessarily the art that you should be doing". which is something I try to hold onto! I had been trying really hard at the time to be, like, a more realistic traditional-style painter, and was getting really frustrated because that kind of art isn't fun for me to do. it wasn't until I gave myself permission to actually try out different things and not lock myself into what I thought was the kind of art I should be doing, that I realized I actually just like drawing little dudes making weird faces at each other! (I definitely still have some hangups about this, but I am getting better at it! ...I hope!)

"The Bear and the Nightingale" by Katherine Arden.

"The Bear and the Nightingale" by Katherine Arden is a captivating historical fantasy novel set in medieval Russia. The story follows Vasya, a young girl with a special connection to the mystical creatures and spirits of the Russian wilderness. As Vasya grows older, her village becomes threatened by dark forces, and she must embrace her magical abilities to protect her family and community. The book weaves together folklore, mythology, and Russian culture, creating a rich and immersive setting. Katherine Arden's lyrical writing style brings the wintry landscape and enchanting creatures to life. "The Bear and the Nightingale" is a tale of courage, resilience, and the battle between old traditions and the encroachment of a changing world. It's a perfect blend of fantasy and historical fiction, with a strong emphasis on the power of belief and the importance of staying true to oneself. If you enjoy atmospheric and immersive stories with a touch of magic, you'll definitely want to dive into "The Bear and the Nightingale"!

My Thoughts on Kingdom

First off, my general no-story-spoilers thoughts on Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes.

I really really liked this movie! I loved all the characters, both human and ape. I really enjoyed the story, even if it was a little bit predictable, and I could guess along the way what was going to happen next (though that may just have been because I watched every single trailer and TV spot and could guess based off scenes I had seen). The animation on the apes was phenomenal, and the landscape was gorgeous. I love the world building and seeing the ape communities grow and have their own traditions and beliefs in this world.

For the things I did not like, I definitely thought the pacing was off. Weirdly the story and the pacing felt a lot like War to me, and much of my criticisms about Kingdom are similar to what I thought of War. The ending is a little underwhelming, and I think they were taking too much focus on setting up for future movies, but I didn’t hate it, just didn’t feel wowed like the end of the previous films. But overall, I thought it was a great movie. Not as good as Dawn which is my favorite among the Apes films, but definitely a worthy successor to Caesar’s trilogy.

I definitely plan to see the movie again and think it will further develop my thoughts but those are my initial thoughts after one viewing. I give a three out of five stars.

Onto the spoilers... read at your own risk below the cut

To elaborate on why I feel like Kingdom is very similar to War, here’s my basic breakdown: an inciting incident sends the lead ape off on a journey, he encounters a strange ape and a human who come along on the journey, he loses an ape companion, he is captured by the main antagonist who does a big monologue on the fate of his species is in his hands alone but otherwise doesn’t do much else and ends up with an unsatisfying death, lead ape brings his people home. This fits well for me because much of my criticism for Kingdom is the same criticism I had for War, especially with poor pacing and an underwhelming ending. I think, since both movies involve a physical journey with lots of side characters and a big looming antagonist who doesn't get much to do, War and Kingdom would have been better served as mini-series, where they had more than 2.5 hours to tell their story. But for being confined to a film, they are still enjoyable, even when suffering the same flaws.

I thought the story was good, even if predictable. I could guess most of the story beats as they came but still enjoyed them. There was a definite pacing issue; it felt rushed once Noa got on the road to finding Proximus. One thing that did surprise me was the relationship between Noa and Mae. Halfway through the movie, I was thinking that I wasn’t really feeling a bond between them and was the writing not working. Once I reached the end of it, I realized oh, there wasn’t supposed to really be a bond between them. I actually kinda like that, I like how driven Mae is for her mission of reclaiming human society. 

The movie ends with the question of can humans and apes truly coexist. Both Mae and Noa don’t have that answer at the moment, all they know that they want their own people to survive. I hope that this is setting it up to go into more depth in future films. If they don’t pick this question up in a sequel film, then it really will be a dangling thread and I think this is one reason some reviewers say that the themes of the movie feel muddled, because they don't get a definitive answer. But I’m OK with this debate not getting resolved in this first movie, since it feels like it will be the theme of this trilogy.

One major criticism I have is it feels like characters were under-utilized. Raka was fantastic, probably my favorite character in the movie. I was really disappointed that he got swept away into the river, presumably to his death, so quickly. Now personally I don’t think he’s dead; I know orangutans can’t swim, but we didn’t see a body and the credits end with orangutan sounds rather than chimp or gorilla sounds. So I would not be surprised if he popped up in a future film. But I didn’t really feel emotional when he was swept away in the water. Likewise, I think that Proximus is severely underused. If you’ve seen his scenes and trailers, then you’ve seen the majority of his screen time. I am not surprised that he ended up being a one movie villain, since I think the next movie will have humans as the main antagonists, but I was pretty disappointed that that was all we got of him. I didn’t mind him dying by the birds, I actually liked Noa and his clan singing the eagles song together, but I am sure a lot of people will dislike that ending for him.

Those criticisms aside, there is also much to love. The attack on the eagle village is an incredible action scene. Despite me knowing that it would end with Noa’s family captured and Koro dying, it is where I felt the most tension in the film, with Noa walking through the action, dazed and confused while there were so much happening around him. The humor was on point. I often forget that these films can have a good amount of humor, like Koba with his fake silly ape routine for the two humans in Dawn and Bad Ape’s silliness in War. so, this film did great on humor that kept me chuckling. Mae teaching Noa the word “shit” had me howling. I like Noa’s growth being connected to his father’s eagle, and whether he can call the bird to him or not. Again, I knew he would, because I had seen him in the trailer with the bird on his arm, but I thought it was well played with the bird pecking him in the very beginning of the film and then it coming willingly to him at the end.

Of course, the visuals are gorgeous, though they felt more on level with Dawn rather than War, which always had the best CGI among the Andy Serkis trilogy. I loved seeing the development of the apes; they're talking and showing more emotion than apes of the last trilogy, so their personalities really stand out, even if having so many characters meant they didn't each get as much spotlight. Soona and Anaya are my precious adorable babies and I will throw down with any writers or directors who dare to harm a single hair on their heads.

All in all, it's not a movie that I love and adore, but it was a really good film, despite some flaws. I think many of the flaws will be forgiven when/if they are allowed to do a full trilogy where they can resolve dangling threads and flesh out characters even more. But even if no other movies follow up, I still enjoyed the film and loved seeing a glimpse of post-Caesar ape societies.