#tumblr's bad image quality my beloved

[end3rm0cha]

Hello !! I waited so long to post this its now basically old art, oops !

But yay more of my origin au !! Only took me an eternity (i'm so sorry)

[panic-flavored]

Everything all red, red, everything all red

Oh look! It's yandere o'clock

[baeshijima]

they are everything to me e e ee ee e e

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

As promised: Wisp

(I know I threatened to wait a few days cause you answered that other ask, but I'm too impatient and I've been existing with this drawing for a week now and haven't been able to send it to you)

(also there's a little red dot in the eye and i'm hoping tumblr doesn't just destroy it with bad image quality)

WISP MY BABY- MY BELOVED- OH MY GOD VALLLLLL

AND IM GLAD YOU DID NOT FOLLOW THROUGH BECAUSE NOW YOU HAVE BLESSED MY EYES AND AHHHH OH MY GOODNESS LOOK AT HER PRECIOUS BABY

THE RED DID NOT COME THROUGH BUT SOMEHOW I GET THE VIBE FROM HOW HER EYES ARE ANYWAYS <333

[blueparadis]

꒰ WHEN WE COLLIDED ꒱ ⋮ RAN HITANI.

───❪ SYNOPSIS ❫ ⋮ A decision always changes the course of one's life but mainly it affects just one person, the one who takes the decision. However, an accident doesn't, it affects more than one person. Ran seems to believe he can have both in his favor if he plays his cards at the right time.

───❪ TAGS ❫ ⋮ MDNI, 18+ & M RATING.

(sub!)ran haitani x (switch!)fem!reader, one sided pinning, manipulation, death via accident ( MCD ), fruity!ran agenda, yandere themes, mention of implied cheating, domestic violence ( not by ran ), bad marriage,slow burn, eventual smut.

───❪ PLAYLIST ❫ ⋮ stay by stephan, too close by sir chloe, million dollar man by lana del rey, i am the dog by sir chloe, me and my husband by mitski, movement by hozier, don't you know by james young, do i wanna know by arctic monkeys, sex with a ghost by teddy hyde, stuck on a puzzle alex turner, cherry waves by deftones, the witch by Rosenfeld & khemis.

part one.

summary: The monotony in the life of Ran Haitani has a flicker of excitement. It turns up for a second and then goes out. But, for a hungry animal to denounce the prey, even if it is a slice is nothing but a mockery of the ways of nature. word count —2,5k.

part two.

summary: Ran starts to gather pieces of his puzzle even barely has any piece of it, he could see a glimpse of the final picture. He has never been taught not to play with his food when he was a child and he never did unless the food feels stale and tasteless on his tongue. word count — 2,6k.

part three.

summary: Ran's heart starts to unwind, starts to overlook all the possibilities of obstacles he might face to have you. With his heart in a bind, he starts to seek ways to connect, ways to have you, see you, taste you, feel you. word count — 1,6k.

part four.

summary: There is a jinx that Ran heard when he was eight years old, from his nanny. "You lose the people with whom you share your handkerchief." Now, he is not much of a superstitious person but when he saw his favorite handkerchief in the fist of his father who was intimately clung by his mother in the newspaper picture, he started to believe; he started to experiment word count —1,1k.

part five.

summary: It has been almost half of another month since his last encounter with you. Ran has thought of his second encounter with you way too many times that it lies heavy on his eyelids, on his fingertips, creating goosebumps on his skin. It tingles his soul. He replays that particular memory in a loop until he gets drunk on it, until he gets what he is promised. word count —0.7k.

part six.

summary ~ to be updated soon.

───❪ NOTES❫ ⋮ read on ao3.

blog navigation.

dividers by @benkeibear. banner art by me. for better quality you need to view the image seperately.

This is for my beloved dawnie. @lalunanymph . ( kindly check her rules if you wish to read her works. )

Dawn baby, I have read your works when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm angry, and whenever I missed you. I have kept coming back to read your works, again and again, especially during my exam season. And one day I reaslized that you and your writing has become an integral part of my Tumblr. Not only that, it has also shaped my writing and reading experience. Needless to say dawnie baby that I admire you a lot. So, this is a little gift from me to you for creating such a brilliantly bright trajectory in my writing journey. Tokyo Revengers has always been my staple fandom. Even being a multifandom blog it is the tokyo revengers’ masterlists which is most stacked. At first I thought I should write on Kakucho for you but didn't feel confident about it so I went with Ran Haitani. This is probably the third long fic on him and second series work. I don't generally write on my favs because I don't know what to write and how to write. It is always a struggle but I hope this scratches the right parts of your brain. Take your time, read it in a one fine afternoon all of a sudden or somewhere in next million years. I'm not in rush :’))

Love you,

paradis.

[flightyquinn]

I'd like to share something with you, Tumblr.

When I first played D&D 3.5, many years ago now, I played a bard named Wren, using a homebrew race that you could find on the official Wizards forums around that time called the Kassuri. He was a goofy little manlet with the ears and tail of a fox who knew no fear. He got to ride on the back of a luck dragon.

He tamed a shocker lizard and named it Tazer. He once drank a whole bucket of dwarven ale without getting drunk, and then shouted, "I said a large glass!" and another time bluffed a group of elven soldiers that the Half-orc paladin was his pet. When a demon killed his mentor, he avenged them and made a coat out of the demon's wings.

He fought his former friend turned enemy, almost died, and won. He got knighted by his king after starting the campaign exiled from his homeland, and then prayed so hard to be a better person that his alignment shifted right before going to face the final boss. When he realized the BBEG was sensitive to sounds and played a heavy metal lute solo so sick that it literally caused their Fortress of Evil to collapse.

It was a silly game, played fast and loose by a group that only half understood the rules, but it was a blast to play. After having some not-so-good experiences with AD&D (may I never forget The Exploding Cleric), it was the first game I ever played to the end of a campaign. I loved the game, and I love my group from back then...Hothgoth, Lios, Pixie, Elena, Leif, and even the others who came in later and didn't stick around as long. I've held onto those memories, and my beloved "first successful character", ever since.

Until the tail end of last year, I never had any decent art of him.

This is Wren, almost perfectly as I envisioned him all those years ago.

The sad truth is, unless you're an artist yourself, it can be hard to get character art for TTRPGs. Most people I know in the hobby don't have a lot of money, and even if they do you never know how long a character may last before getting killed by bad rolls. Back in the day, for the game Wren is from, we just used a text description and imagined the character. These days, most people I know use a virtual table top. Characters need tokens (and usually profile pictures for when other players check the sheet), and for hardcore players like me that are in several games a week, that's a lot of art that could need swapped out on a moment's notice.

The sad truth is, people just steal it. Even the people I know who are artists steal art, only really drawing characters they get attached to. We discuss what images would be good for characters, show one-another what we've found, and it's not uncommon to decide details about a character based on what kind of a picture you can find for them. So...when AI art started becoming a thing, I got excited.

Artist Tumblr probably noticed right away that the picture up there is AI generated. It's a pretty good output, but there's still telltale signs. Yes I notice them, and no they don't bother me. It's better than any of the attempts I ever made at doing a picture myself, and even if I could afford a picture of that level of quality, who knows if the artist I found would be able to fully understand my description the way I see it in my head, or if they would be willing to put in the time and effort to revise it to my satisfaction. It was going to be imperfect either way, but I was able to take time (a frankly ridiculous amount) to tweak things and start over and try different approaches until it was to my satisfaction.

...and like I said, I make a lot of characters. Now, instead of just finding some picture I like and stealing it wholesale, I end up generating a lot of character art. It's just for my personal use either way, and thanks to AI, I get to express my own ideas.

I know some people out there are abusing the technology to make a quick buck, but please remember that's a fault of those people. There are people abusing just about every technology out there. For other people, who are only trying to use it to express themselves or to do things without needing an additional skillset they don't have, AI art is a godsend.

[choicesarehard]

I keep my streams about Wolf Bride light-hearted. It’s been a hell of a year, and I think we all need a space where we can laugh together. But part of responsibly consuming problematic media is being aware of where it fails. And that’s why I think it’s important to talk about Morgan, and Wolf Bride’s troubling depiction of blindness. 

Morgan is one of the first Love Interests in Choices to have a canon disability. She is representation many players with disabilities, like myself, are eager for. But like any form of representation, writing a blind character requires research. A quick google search will lead you to numerous visually impaired voices who outline the tropes and stereotypes that harm their community. Wolf Bride has included nearly all of them. 

signal boosts are appreciated

Not All Blind People Wear Sunglasses

Morgan is shown wearing dark sunglasses from the moment she appears on screen. And there are certainly blind people who wear sunglasses — particularly those who (unlike Morgan) can still perceive some degree of light and dark, and experience painful light sensitivity. But no context is ever giving for Morgan’s use of sunglasses. In fact, they aren’t even addressed for four chapters. 

[ID: Two screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box over a forest background, and reads “You glance at Morgan, and are surprised to see the dark glasses still covering her eyes.” The second features a labeled image of her sunglasses, placed over a black background, with a selectable button that reads “What does Morgan look like without these?”] What follows is a scene Pixelberry could have used to provide insight into an assistive device the sighted community may not be entirely familiar with. They could have touched on degrees of visual impairment, or why some blind individuals need dark lenses while others don’t. They could even have explained that for some individuals with visual impairments, dark lenses make tasks like reading or navigating dimly lit spaces harder.  Instead, and far more troublingly, MC is given the option to ask Morgan not to wear them anymore. And depending on your choice, the book is coded to remove the sunglasses from her sprite in future scenes. This reduces an assistive device to a fashion choice, something our MC can wish away if they don’t find it attractive. And that isn’t okay. 

Unusual Eyes

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box placed over a forest background that reads “With a start, you realize her pale eyes aren’t looking at you, aren’t seeing you, aren’t seeing anything.” The second features Morgan’s sad sprite in the same forest setting, and a text box that reads “...I’ve been blind since birth.”] Morgan has a customizable sprite. But regardless of the ethnicity you select for her, she is depicted with pale blue eyes. And that troubles me. Because the stereotype that all blind individuals have cloudy, distorted, or unusual eyes is pervasive and harmful. 

Even when it isn’t tied to another harmful trope — the blind character as mystical seer or psychic — this stereotype create an expectation that blindness is something that always manifests in a visible way. And for millions of blind individuals, that isn’t the case. 

And while cataracts, trauma to the eye, and corneal infections can all cause the clouded effect most of us recognize from media, none turn your brown eyes into blue.  Heightened Senses

Another common stereotype in media is the blind character who’s remaining senses have become heightened as a compensatory mechanism, often to a supernatural degree.

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features Morgan’s surprised sprite in a forest setting and a text box that reads “I guess I sort of...feel things. Like the place on my cheek where the branch blocked the wind.” The second features Morgan’s neutral sprite in the same forest setting, and a text box that reads “I can smell the dew on the leaves, and the moss on the bark. Can’t you?] Individuals with visual impairment may learn to rely on their other senses to navigate the world around them. But they do not suddenly gain the ability to sense the location of a branch based on wind patterns, or to accurately throw a dart at a carnival game ballon based on its smell. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eight of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box placed over a carnival background that reads “Pop! Pop! Pop! Three darts fly through the air, striking their targets.” The second features the white MC with straight blonde hair. Her sprite is surprised, and beneath it is a text box that reads “So you did that by smell, too?]

This trope may seem harmless — after all, it gave us Daredevil, a beloved blind superhero — but it contributes to the unachievable expectations we often place on real-world individuals with visually impairments. And that isn’t fair. 

Of course, we all suspected Morgan’s abilities were due to something other than heightened senses. And that in and of itself is a problem. 

Magical / Supernatural Abilities

To the surprise of no one, Morgan exhibits these unusual abilities because she is a werewolf. But choosing to give a blind character magical abilities should only be done after asking yourself some challenging questions. As visually-impaired Tumblr user @mimzy-writing-online explains:

Your blind characters don’t need a magical ability that negates their blindness. [Ask yourself why it’s so important to you to give them one]. If it’s because they can’t do all the things you want them to do without it, then should you really have written them as blind in the first place? 

And that’s the thing. Morgan isn’t actually written as a blind character, not when it counts. Morgan shoots bullets with accuracy, runs through unfamiliar terrain, and navigates moving objects with ease. She doesn’t use common assistive devices like canes or screen readers. Her sunglasses are discarded at MC’s request. The scientific papers that fill her research facility are not digitized for accessibility or written in braille. 

Even her dreams, which should be reflections of how she perceives reality, look identical to Bastien's — which makes no sense for someone who has been canonically blind since birth. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapters Five and Eight of Wolf Bride. The first features a scene from Morgan’s lucid dream. Set in a glamorous hotel, it includes visual details like twinkling lights, and patterned carpets. The color is tinted a grey-blue and the exposure on the image has been increased to an unnatural level. The second features a scene from Bastien’s lucid dream. Set in a forest, it shares the same tinted and over-exposed qualities as the first.]

Her blindness isn’t an integral part of her character. Instead, it’s a narrative device, paraded in front of the reader when it can further a central — and deeply disturbing — plot point. [content warning: discussion of discrimination and child abuse / abandonment ahead]  Morgan Was Left to Die Because She Was Blind 

And Jesus, what a plot point it is. In Chapter 11, we learn that Morgan was left to die in the woods because she was born “wrong, sickly, blind.” But the only canonical disability or illness she is ever shown to have is her blindness. 

[ID: Three side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eleven of Wolf Bride. The first two feature the white MC with straight blonde hair’s shocked sprite in front of a forest background. The first text box reads “I don’t understand...” followed by two dialogue options “Why was Morgan abandoned?” and “Is that what you do to full moon babies? Kill them?” The second panel’s read box reads “Just because she was blind?” The third panel features  the old woman Noemi’s sad sprite, placed over a forest background. Her text box reads “If we know an infant will not survive, it is best to let it die quickly.”]

I...am frankly having a hard time thinking through the screenshot-induced fury to make a coherent argument here. To imply that blindness is an impairment so limiting that death is the only foreseeable outcome? That being born blind somehow makes a child “wrong”? The ignorance and prejudice shown in this scene is staggering. 

But equally troubling is the response of the main characters to this revelation. Yes, in fiction, bad people sometimes do bad things. But Noemi isn’t shown to be a bad person. Neither is Bastien, who knew what his pack had been guilty of in the past, and even seeks to justify it to a limited degree. 

Most shockingly, Morgan herself, who in the second screenshot below has just overheard that she was left to die as an infant because she is blind, isn’t angry or upset. She’s almost apologetic, still seeking a place within the pack. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eleven of Wolf Bride. The first features Hispanic Bastien’s sad sprite in front of a forest background. The text box beneath him reads “It doesn’t happen often, Clara, but...” The second features white Morgan’s sad sprite in front of the same forest background. The text box beneath her reads “I didn’t mean any harm. Especially after...what I just overheard.”]

By introducing the idea that a child born blind cannot survive, let alone thrive, without superhuman abilities, and then failing to soundly and thoroughly refute that idea through the characters we identify with, Pixelberry is unintentionally perpetuating the same false beliefs that have led to real-world instances of infanticide for centuries. And that isn’t okay. 

I don’t know where Pixelberry will go with the story from here. Perhaps in today’s chapter some of these concerns have been addressed...but I doubt it. In the meantime, I’ve also written to their support staff to express my deep concern and disappointment in the treatment of Morgan’s character. And I’d encourage you to do the same. 

Will I continue to keep streaming Wolf Bride? For now, yes. My VIP subscription is already paid for, and frankly, I want to see Morgan’s arc through. I guess the small part of me that was excited for the representation is still hopeful the narrative can be corrected. 

But I’ll be adding a content warning at the start of each stream for ablism, and that’s something I never thought I’d have to do.  Screenshots courtesy of CrimsonFeatherGames on Youtube

[magnificent-winged-beast]

We’re doing the picture of Cas crying when he confessed to dean for mishapocalypse

Ok.

You have all the right to do whatever you want in your blog or with your icon.

I personally will not. Here are my reasons:

That image of him still painful to watch.

Why choose that image on the first place?

What is the real purpose of the Mishapocalypse?

Who decided to choose the first annoying image for the first Mishapocalypse?

Knowing now that THAT PARTICULAR IMAGE of Misha isn't liked by him because its from an specific painful experience/time for him. Why are people who declares to love him still using it?

Isn't it possible that even the idea of the Mishapocalypse was created from a Misha hater with the soul purpose of paint this, again, awful and bad memory image of him all over tumblr helped by herd thinking?

AND NOW INCIDENTALLY another awful image/still of him, charged with such a bad memories is demanded as herd movement to be used for this spontaneous New Mishapocalypse.

And now my unrequited analysis of this new still/image that the "masses" demand to be used for this Mishapocalypse.

This particular still its a memory for all of us of how Castiel sacrificed himself for love, and we can also read that here Misha is looking for the last time to his beloved husband friend Jensen acting as Dean on screen. And knowingly that this will be the very last time they will do this together.

Its charged with emotion that could be interpretate as bad because the general feels for all that love we have for Castiel in the first place, and then Misha by extention. Also remains to be the very portrait of a wonderful Canonization of Destiel but still managing to be painfully homofobic for the way HE HAD TO GO AND NEVER RETURNED AGAIN after saying all of this things to Dean. *sights*

Now, if I were to understand the purpose of this "movement" called Mishapocalypse and as an eager fan of Mr. Collins I want to participate.

I will probably choose one of this two images:

First I apologize for the quality, its 7am of January 1st and I refuse to leave the confort of my bed and cats all over me to capture a better quality image.

This one is from the same moment. It's one of my favorites because is showing Castiel at peace and happy to offer his life for a better cause.

He is not only sacrificing himself for love, he is choosing to die instead of the better soldier whom he knows will win the final battle.

Or yet another proposal I dare to make additional to the other two I already proposed.

It's iconic and from a great moment /cause when tumblr not only banned our p0rn, but with their stupid guidelines tried to sensor the human body and all the art people create here that isn't necessarily erotica.

But, as I stated in the beginning of this long first of the year answer Ask (new resolutions of keeping the inbox updated) whatever YOU nonny or others decide to participate or join to do as a way of celebration for the existence of Misha Collins? (to be honest, I'm still fussy on the purpose of the Mishapocalypse)

It's your prerogative and you must do whatever you wish to express any warmth and fuzzy feelings you have for Dmitry.

Let me tell you what I will be doing on the next April's Mishapocalypse and I did yesterday when I was summoned to this impromptu Mishapocalypse.

I donated to THE TREVOR PROJECT

As you can read here, for a lazy person like me that is at the moment blessed to be able to give some money, its a feel good sensation to read the effort I put in clicking and choosing to save this money to a whorty cause:

Finally. And to be clear.

Whatever you nonny choose to do its ok by me, and whomever reads this, my first post of the year. This is not trying to be a lecture in how to interpret or do whatever you choose to perceive or understand THE MISHAPOCALYPSE REPRESENTS. But I need to say my piece about these "controversial images" we are choosing to celebrate this tumblr holiday?

I'm only sharing here what I AM choosing to do. Again, because I'm lazy and I could also help at this local animal help group that need kennels to be cleaned and dogs to be cared for, that eventually I will, I promise.

So if this post inspired you (because this is my main target, not just to flaunt how good of a person I am, because of Misha of course) to do the same and celebrate Misha's existence but can't afford to give money. There are plenty things to do for your fellow neighbors and if you have been playing attention to the Overlord, any small act of kindness can make a difference for ALL OF US.

In the end, we all are just his minions, following his evil plan, so if you never did any small act of kindness before, you can blame it on him and proudly say:

Misha made me do it 😁

[chispas-and-broken-bindings]

I’m posting a preview of the next chapter of Know The Love - Part II. This chapter is taking me longer to write than I anticipated, and I have a crazy busy week coming up at work, so it is looking less and less likely that I’ll have the full thing posed to Ao3 as soon as I would like. 

So, I thought I’d share the WIP to anyone who follows me on Tumblr, below the cut: 

Sansa relaxed into the hot, spring-fed bath, settling back until only her lips and nose breached the steamy surface. She closed her eyes, remembering.

Jon, what are you trying to tell me? That there's another secret Targaryen, vying for the Iron Throne?

(Not a trueborn Targaryen…)

Stars danced behind her lids.

(And he has no interest in ruling the Seven Kingdoms, I promise you.) What are you saying?

Slipping completely below the water, she let the weight of his secret pull her down.

(I keep telling you…I'm not a Stark. I'm not your brother, Sansa. Trueborn or half.) Stop, Jon. You're the very image of father. (It is not uncommon for a nephew to resemble his uncle.)

Days had passed since Jon's revelation, but her blood still pounded in her ears, hot and heady, like he'd only just told her. It had taken her a foolishly long time to understand what Jon was trying to say as she stared at him across his solar, her eyes flitting helplessly to Lord Reed, who only gazed back, stoic as ever.

(Lord Eddard was my uncle.) But you're too young to be Uncle Brandon's, and Uncle Benjen was too young to be a father…

Jon looked pained as understanding reached her at last. Her chest strained, painfully.

You're Lyanna's...Winter's rose. (Yes.) Stolen by the Dragon Prince. …and Rheagar Targaryen's… (Bastard.)

When he said it, she had been too thrown, too off balance to hear the loathing Jon bit into the word. The ground had shifted beneath her feet, the sky slanting so she was sliding down once more, drowning, and all she had the sense to ask, in a keening breathless voice, was, Who else knows?

"Sansa!" Her name came, muffled, through the water, but when hands disturbed the warm void, grasping at her arms, she woke from her reverie and resurfaced with a gasp. "For heavens sakes, Sansa! Are you trying to scare me witless! I'm already frantic over Theon's trial." She blinked into Jeyne's concerned, fire agate eyes, as rivulets raced down her brow and into her heavy lashes.

"Sorry Jeyne, I was only daydreaming," she sighed.

"I implore you, dream with your head above the water, please." Jeyne stood, shaking her head and frowning at her now soaking sleeves. "You're as bad as Arya used to be when we'd swim in the godswood. She'd challenge the other girls to try and hold their breath as long as she. Once, long after the others had given up, she floated to the surface, face down. When I turned her over, with tears burning my eyes, mind you, Ayra sprang to life, spouting water in my face, cackling like the Crone."

"I was just wetting my hair, not attempting a lark." Sansa squeezed her heavy locks, before twisting them together over the tub's edge, to dry.

"Be that as it may, you are not a fish, Sansa. You won't sprout gills beneath the surface if you stay down too long. You'll drown."

"Duly noted." She closed her eyes again, trying to recall her train of thought, but Jeyne continued prodding.

"Are you feeling well, my lady? You're flushed."

"Of course I'm flushed. I'm poaching in a steaming bath." Irritation seeped into her voice, and she glanced at her friend, contrite. Jeyne did not deserve her sullen mood. Theon's trial was only a few hours away, and Jeyne had stayed awake half the night, fretting over him. Now, she was fretting over Sansa.

"It's only, you haven't seemed entirely yourself, the past few days. You've been-"  Spinning like a top into oblivion? "-distracted."

When Sansa rose, Jeyne and one of her maids came to either side, wrapping her in a robe and helping her step from the copper tub. She laced her fingers through Jeyne's, relaxing her face into an easy smile. "I suppose I'm just tired. In the songs, they always leave out the verses where Jonquil spends her days mediating the lords' petty disputes or counting sacks of grain." Jeyne squeezed back.

"Well, when your Florian returns, you must beseech the king to appoint someone else to those duties. You and your knight will need time to reacquaint yourselves." She winked, playfully, and Sansa's belly dropped. She had no Florian; only an over-eager, impatient heir with more ambition than advantage, and a trail of ruined women behind him…and ahead. He was due back to Winterfell any day, after a decisive victory at the Dreadfort. Her stomach roiled at the thought, but she mustered a smile, nonetheless.

"Alas, the king works harder than us all. He does not deserve a princess who eschews her duties for any knight, especially while she is still wed to another."

Jeyne pushed her to her vanity, where her maids began to dress her. "Where is the romance in that, princess? Think on it. This may be your only chance for a true love affair." Sansa gaped at her friend, scandalized. "And wouldn't it be sweet, to be lovers first, before you are man and wife?" It would not be sweet. She'd had a glimpse at what an affair with Harry would entail, and she saw no appeal, with him.

"I must stay a maid, to annul my marriage to Tyrion," she reminded her friend, who only pursed her lips a moment, before responding.

"There are ways to take a lover and still preserve your maidenhead." Jeyne whispered, and Sansa marveled at the young woman's coy suggestion. After all she had endured, Jeyne had a spirit as hardy and irrepressible as the yellow yarrow that spread across the North in the summer, sprouting wherever the sun kissed the earth, from barrow to marsh, ditch to crag, no matter the quality of the soil or the quantity of rain. It stirred something within Sansa, and her cheeks burned at Jeyne's bold words. She pressed her eyes shut, but it was not the Young Falcon she imagined, standing before her. Grey eyes caught her. A kiss, searing and too brief, whispered across her lips.  See? What consumes you, devastates me too.

I'm not your brother, Sansa.

Her eyes snapped open. She was being foolish, to conflate the Jon she knew before with the Jon she knew now. The Jon who chased her smiling lips with his own down a dark corridor, and burned through her restraint over darker waters, was wooing a different woman. The Jon she knew now had only meant to convey essential information to the only family left to him.

Who else knows? (That lives? Myself. Howland. Now…you. Your father was the only other, as far as we know. Sansa, this is a dangerous secret. The kind that starts wars and kills thousands.)

As if she didn't understand. Only minutes before, the northern lords had packed Jon's solar, railing against two unknown Targaryens, half a world away. She knew how the North viewed the disgraced house. Madmen. Rapists. Inbred Dragonspawn. If they learned that their own king, already holding together a fragile kingdom, was the son of the man who had kidnapped and raped the beloved Lyanna Stark, sparking the flames that led to Brandon and Lord Rickard's deaths and a rebellion that changed the face of Westoros…why, they would turn on Jon like rabid dogs.

Then, why are you telling me? She had asked him, eyes flying again to Howland in desperation.

(No more secrets, remember? We promised.) He had looked at her with such intensity that she was forced to look away once more, imploring Lord Reed for assistance.

If anyone else finds out, you'll lose the North! She turned to Jon. You must remain Ned Stark's son. The lords will never back a Targaryen. The look in Jon's eyes was positively mutinous as his advisor nodded back at her, and she continued to shake her head, in horror.

(You think I don't know that! That's why I'm telling you. You, of all people should know whose claim you are actually backing. There is still time-) No! You are still a Stark. This changes nothing.

But it changed everything. She had fled Jon's solar a short time later, her thoughts too jumbled to handle more than an awkward pledge to keep his secret safe and a hasty word of gratitude that he had entrusted her with his true identity. Only now, after days of strained interactions, and painfully polite run-ins with the king, did she begin to understand. She had asked the wrong questions and offered only the weakest absolution. You are still a Stark. This changes nothing.

-----

Later, she observed him, from a distance, in the Great Hall, as the lords and ladies filtered in for the upcoming trials. The king stood apart, head bowed in discussion with Val, who had returned with the Ironmen held in Torrhen's Square. Though Sansa had never seen a Targaryen in the flesh, Jon had none of their oft-recited characteristics. In the dim light, his dark brown hair and grey eyes appeared as black as the cloak resting on his shoulders, his face as long and drawn as the stone kings of winter standing sentinel deep beneath their feet. It would be easier to believe Ned Dayne was a secret Targaryen, for whatever Prince Rheagar had left Jon, it was buried deep inside.

Now, questions burned at her lips. What really happened to Lyanna? How did Jon come to be raised by Howland Reed? And how long had he known the truth of his birth? And how did he feel about it? How did her father feel about it? And why had he not shared the secret with her mother? Perhaps, these were the questions she should have asked when Jon first told her the truth. Perhaps she should have asked them at any point in the past few days, when the revelation was new and her curiosity would be expected. But, whenever there was a moment where they found themselves alone, her body would rebel with unknowable emotion and her heart would beat in her like a caged bird in her chest, her tongue heavy and thick in her mouth, and she would flee the room before whatever was growing within her, had an opportunity to bloom.

"Princess, are you well?" She startled at Baelish's words, too close, before tilting her eyes away from Jon to the lord beside her.

"Quite, my lord. And you?"

"Quite. They make a stunning pair, do they not?"

"Hm?" She asked, distractedly as Baelish's lips twisted in a knowing smirk.

"Why the king and the wilding princess, of course. Were you not just watching them?" His eyes narrowed, and she flashed Jon and Val another glance, before smiling faintly back at the lord.

"I hadn't noticed where my eyes has settled. I was lost in thought, my lord."

"Hm. Well, still, my questions stands. Would not the wilding princess make a fine wife for your half-beast brother?"

"Half-beast?" She raised an eyebrow. "Be careful with your words, Lord Baelish. There are those that would take offence to you speaking of your king so." Her voice was mild, though, and his green eyes glinted slyly back at her.

"I meant no harm, my Princess. The north will need a fierce, beastly leader to keep its hard-fought independence. Eyes in King's Landing may be turned inward for now, but that cannot last forever…And you still evade my question. What do you think of my match?"

"Val is no princess and Jon has already more or less gained the wildings support. He needs a wife with more to offer."

"Ah. In that case, here comes another enticing option." Sansa followed Baelish's eyes to Lady Wynyfryd Manderly, gliding into the Great Hall in a gown of deep blue, offset by a string of rose pearls gracing her slender neck. She stopped before the king, falling into a graceful curtsy and Sansa watched Jon's eyes sweep down her form with a sour taste in her mouth. "As I understand it, the king in the North has still not fully won over his wealthiest, most well-connected lord. There can be no argument against the advantages in him marrying the Manderly maid."

Satin caught Sansa's eye across the hall, gesturing for her to take her place. "Excuse me, my lord, it looks like the trial will soon commence."

Before she could extricate herself, however, Baelish leaned close, whispering, "Careful little bird. He is your brother. Unnatural relations have toppled kingdoms more stable than his." She pulled away, her heart racing and legs weak.

I am not your brother, Sansa.

He should never have told her.  

----

She barely registered the accusations against Asha Greyjoy, Theon's sister, and the leader of the Ironborn who invaded Deepwood Motte and were defeated by Alyssane Mormont. Beside her, the king sat, just as in the previous trial, but this time his hand did not bridge the distance between them, nor did she reach out for him. Instead, she sat, staring out at the accused, yet seeing nothing. She was frightened. Littlefinger already watched them with suspicious eyes, and now she suspected Jon's secret was writ across her face every time she looked at the king. He should never have told her. It was hard enough to see him as her brother when she believed it to be true. Now, she didn't know how to meet his eyes.

She was snapped to attention when Asha Greyjoy was given a chance to answer to the charges against her.

"I'll take the black." She called out, with a wry smirk.

Sansa felt Jon's eyes light on her, but she stared straight ahead, so he responded. "There are no women in the Night's Watch."

"Well then, I choose freedom." The crowd chittered, and once again Jon tried to catch Sansa's eye before Asha continued. "I heard you let the Frey men, men who aided in raping women and mutilating children, choose the black, yet I, who simply held a castle that had been abandoned by its lord, and kept my men from harming a single hair on an innocent's head, am not afforded the same opportunity? Because I don't have a cock between my legs?"  Gasps from the crowd. "Where is the honor in that?"

"And if we banish you from the North, you'll only return one day to raid our lands again. It's a tired tale. The Ironborn's broken promises." Jon called.

"Well then. I suppose you'll have to take me as a thrall…though again, I thought the North was too honorable for an arrangement so close to slavery." Her tone was mocking, and Sansa looked closer at the Ironborn woman. She was lean and long legged, in black breeches, her short black hair, tied loosely at her neck, revealing a thin face and a hawkish nose, tempered by a wickedly impertinent grin. "I suppose you have only two options left, Wolf King. Take off my head or take me to bed."

Again, the crowd chittered, and Sansa burned. The Greyjoy captive was making a mockery of their justice.

"As fascinating as your offer is," Jon answered, "the wolf is not tempted by the squid." The crowd truly laughed this time, but he rose, cutting them off. "Asha Greyjoy, you are hereby fined five thousand gold dragons. Until which time the debt is paid in full, you are forbidden from leaving our lands. You are free to live and to earn your repayment by any lawful means, though if you should break our laws again, I will be taking your head."

The Hall stood silent now, and Sansa hazarded a glance in the king's direction. His face was calm but stern, and there was no uncertainty to find on his face. After a moment he nodded to Maege, who prodded her men-at-arms to action, cutting away the Greyjoy's wrist binds.

"And what of my men?" Asha asked, before she could be fully dismissed from the Hall.

"I suggest they choose the black," was all Jon offered before holding a hand out to Sansa. "Bring the other Greyjoy. We'll resume shortly." Sansa stood, and let herself be led into the privacy of the gallery.

"Are you well, my Princess?" He asked, as soon as the door closed behind them.

"What…yes, of course. Why does everyone keep asking me that?" She couldn't meet his eye. He was standing too close. She could feel herself flushing. Everything was flushing. She tried to step away, but his hand was at her elbow.

"You lie." He murmured, low, and why was she so warm? "It upsets you. That I'm not a Stark."

"You are a Stark." She snapped, still trying to pull away subtly, but he only led her closer to the checkered windows.

"Sansa," His words came out in an anguished flood. "My grandfather murdered your uncle and grandfather. My father raped your aunt. You have every right to be upset. I'll give up the crown. Just say the words and I'll make you queen. I'll leave the north. Just tell me what you want me to do." He didn't understand anything, and he was standing too close.

"Jon!" She hissed. "You are not my enemy. Your grandfather murdered your uncle and grandfather as well! Your father…" Why must he be so obtuse? "Lyanna Stark was your mother. You are a Stark, regardless of who your father was. I've already told you, this changes nothing. You are King in the North! I want you to be king." It felt like her veins were lifting from her body.

"Then why can't you look at me? Why do you flinch every time I draw near? You hate that I'm a Targaryen. Admit it. It is I who should be standing before you in the Great Hall, to answer for the crimes of my family." A shiver ran down her spine and she pulled away once more, trying to think of anything that wouldn't reveal her true thoughts.

"You are mistaken." She blinked up at him, trying to disprove his point, and it would be so much easier if he weren't looking at her like he was; like her words mattered, like her opinions mattered. And it would also be easier too, if he didn't have so much power over her, she admitted weakly to herself; if she didn't notice the breadth of his shoulders as he leaned closer, or the way his lashes seemed impossibly long around his smoky grey eyes.

[b-blushes]

thank you for thoughtful comments <3 I'm quite brain fog atm but wanted to reply a bit (: Some things i've been thinking of: - thinking of 'the lesser of X evils' - i like it here! but also, if it was 'evil' to me in any sense i think i'd rather not be here than stay because it's not 'as bad' as something else? i'm not gonna leave, my friends are here :P but it was an interesting thing to realise! - being more deliberate when i'm here (like, not scrolling through stuff with just a glance) might ease some of the 'maybe this isn't a good thing' that could come from rushing through and making it feel superficial because i'm not thinking about quality of time spent, just making sure i see 'everything'. maybe i've gotta follow less blogs (argh) idk! another thing to think about. but erring towards the side of would rather meaningfully (to whatever extent that's possible being just some guy on tumblr dot com) interact than take on more than i can process and feel emptier about it. maybe that's tmi for public tumblr idc. As mentioned above, online friendships are important to me and many friendships that've developed to be deeper and broader in both our lives have started here (: and also it's nice to 'just' be internet acquaintances with people in the same way that people who can, like, causally spend time outside their houses lots of the time might be casual acquaintances with people in a coffee shop or workplace or bus or something!!!!! i don't really have that opportunity much right now 😅 but it's so nice to have that level of acquaintance that isn't Friendship™ but is, like, mutual recognition and friendliness! - picking one (or maybe 2) activities that fit a similar niche as ~browsing~ would be a good idea, it's harder to think of something idk the word enticing(?) to do when you're on here bc you don't feel well but you want to so *something*. so having something set when i'm like 'hmm feels bad' would be good to make an easy pivot. maybe going through the thousands of photos i have and making a references album for drawing, as that's still 'looking at images and collecting things'! :P - really good point about the type of interaction here being low pressure and not needing me to carry a conversation!!!!! I think this is one of the main things i love about tumblr. if i wanna chat more i often invite friends elsewhere as we're friends :P (discord my beloved) but a lot of the time i'm needing a break from that kind of conversation, so the 'headbonk' chatting and stuff that's tumblr post interaction style is Ideal. - i love it here <3 it's a nice place to be friends! I think the crux of my issue is that "i come online because i don't feel well enough to do anything else" -> "i don't feel well enough to meaningfully interact even here in the way i want to" -> "scrolling feels bad" -> "I worry that being on tumblr is displacing either time i could be spending like. replying to messages. or doing a creative hobby" other times when i'm here it's nice and great! so weird feelings about it are probably more a 'symptom' of feeling ill/upset about disability stuff and the way that effects how i'm interacting with the world and other people, than about me being here in itself?

thank you for joining in this musing with me! (:

not to create an existential crisis in anyone haha but recently i've been very aware of how much time i spend on here and thinking a lot about, like, is that bad.

it's hard to reflect on something that broadly feels nice to do in the context of 'but is is *good for me* to do'? like, i don't think i've made it particularly secret on here that i don't have a big in-person social life - disability and pandemic and most of my friends living too far for me to be able to travel to see (for aforementioned reasons) is Quite Socially Isolating! For that reason, it's nice to be in a space where you feel at least acquainted to certain people, and at most where some of my tumblr-friendships that have developed into other-website-friendships and sending each other letters in the post friendships and meeting each other face to face friendships!

It's also hard to think of another 'leisure activity' that is the mix of 'engaging but not too mentally strenuous' BUT ALSO is not physically strenuous too! I have quite a few hobbies but none of them quite hit the mentally vs physically exerting balance/niche that hanging out on tumblr does. Reading, embroidery, crochet, sewing, drawing, gardening, writing, making videos, collage, journal stuff, playing switch games, idk a bunch of other craft things* - all of them hurt more than this does! They are more 'active activities' where being here is more of a 'rest activity', but that time spent here is time kept from spending doing other things. Are those other theoretical things 'better'? I have fatigue issues with my brain (as well as with using the rest my body :P) so i can't concentrate for very long, and I don't have the energy to focus my eyes for a whole day any more so i have reading glasses along with my regular all the time glasses now. I have very short periods of time where I can use each body part before i have to cycle to a different activity/chore/rest that uses and rests all the other body parts. I can't stand up or walk for very long. What on earth are we meant to do with 'free time', and what type of activity is 'bad' or 'good'? :P

i'm not sure i have a point to this post. it's just an interesting and vaguely scary thing to think about i guess? :P I'm conscious of trying to make choices that are conducive to managing mental health conditions and also keep on top of managing physical health conditions too. I'm stuck on how, if i *did* conclude i was spending too much time on here, i would replace that time with a like-for-like activity. I'm not sure what kind of thing is this blend of restful and active at the same time? I guess maybe one potentially significant part of the issue is, I assume a lot of the advice and messaging about 'good internet practice' and how much time you spend online and how much it's 'ruining your life' comes from abled people who can do other stuff more easily, maybe? I definitely agree that there is nuance within the discussion and that regardless of what groups you fall in you can have a Bad Time on the internet and use it in such a way that does mess things up in your broader life! I wonder how views on this sort of thing differ from abled groups to disabled groups, and subgroups within them? I know that sometimes i feel like i'm devoting time and energy to doing online stuff that i nebulously feel 'should' be spent doing something else, but it's hard to untangle all that stuff! And hard to tell if current habits are detrimental in ways you haven't realised until the detriment has been done :P anyway if you've read this and have a thought to add please do leave me a reply! (i've made it un-rebloggable though because people do love to do bad faith takes on The Internet :P)

[melissatreglia]

Date Night

(This was originally a Tumblr RP between @southerndragontamer​ and myself that occurred in January 2018. The two of us spent the evening yesterday editing it into a fic format. The dialogue included here is also what @ellynore-moonwood​‘s “Meaning of Love” audio was based on.

I hope you enjoy this little piece, just in time for Valentine’s Day, of the Hellgod and His beloved Grace spending a little quality time together. Also: You’re pretty much guaranteed to get cavities from this sweetness. Enjoy! :D )

Melissa ran into the living room at the sound of a brief, almost polite, horn beep. Peering through the front window’s curtains, she saw a brand-new black with silver detailing Chrysler 300C pull up to the curb.

Nice set of wheels. She couldn’t deny the blatant jealousy she felt at someone else driving her dream car.

Of course, she already knew who the driver was, waiting in that vehicle. And He wasn’t looking for her. Thankfully. Hell, this wasn’t even her apartment. She was just here to housesit while while her friend took a much-deserved night off.

“Gracie!” Melissa called in the general direction of the bedroom, hoping she was done with nervously double-checking herself in the mirror. “Your ride’s here!”

Hearing Melissa’s call, Grace took a deep breath, smoothing out the red dress stenciled with black roses she was wearing. She grabbed the black over-the-shoulder purse and headed downstairs. 

The two women gave each other a quick hug.

“Thanks, Melissa, see you later.” Grace headed out the door, a smile breaking onto her face when she saw Dark.

“Hello again, My King,” she said, a rush of nerves hitting her. I hope He likes the dress, she thought. She tucked a strand of hair behind an ear, showing off black diamond studs.

“You look handsome, Dark. I hope I measure up.”

Dark met her halfway along the front walk, looking rather smart Himself in black. But then again, He did have a flair for style.

“You look ravishing tonight, dearest,” He told Grace, placing a gentle kiss against her cheek. Then He offered her His arm to lead her to the car.

She blushed deeply at the compliment, and the sweet gesture. He always knows how to make me blush. Smiling, she took Dark’s arm so He could lead her to the car. I may not know much about cars, but this is a beautiful machine.

Once they were at the vehicle, He opened the front passenger door so she could make herself comfortable. The door was shut, and He walked around the nose of the car, and had gotten into the driver’s seat. The usual matter of seatbelts – and in Grace’s case, a seat adjustment – were dealt with. She made herself comfortable, leaning her legs against the door. As her dress came to her calves, it left her scar visible.

Now that the two of them were relatively alone, He looked over to her in the passenger seat, a tender expression softening His severe features. “I thought we could enjoy a quiet dinner tonight, just the two of us, so I made reservations at a lovely restaurant that serves French cuisine. Are you ready?”

The tender expression on Dark’s face made her heart beat faster. She smiled softly. “It sounds wonderful, My King. Thank You.”

The car pulled away from the curb, and they headed to the restaurant. He held her hand as He drove them there, with one hand on the wheel.

“I have to admit,” He said conversationally. “There is something to be said for traveling in this manner. The sights of the world around us passing by… It’s rather pleasant.”

She nodded in agreement, squeezing His hand. She watched as the lights overhead played over Dark’s face through the driver side window and blushed.

“Yes, there are certainly some beautiful sights.” She winked at Dark, smiling softly.

He glanced at her out of the corner of His eye, a slight smirk playing on His face.

She blushed at Dark’s smirk, inwardly breathing in relief. Okay, first-time flirting went well. Now to try again, and hopefully not fall flat on my face, later.

The drive didn’t take long, and He found a rather convenient place to park, right in front of the establishment. It’s name, Printemps, was in elegant script on the rather ornate-looking sign in front.

As the restaurant came into view, her eyes widened. This is one of the best places in town! Oh boy, hope I don’t stick out much, she thought, tugging at her sleeve nervously.

The restaurant didn’t seem to be busy. In fact, when He ushered her in, it appeared to be completely empty. The fact the place is empty, threw her for a loop, as it’s usually almost packed on the weekend. When He had said He made reservations, that had clearly been an understatement.

“I reserved the entirety of the establishment in your honour,” He said. “So we could dine in privacy and comfort.”

Grace’s jaw dropped. “D-Dark I, this is…. I have no words for how amazed and touched I am, that You did this.”

“I would give you all the worlds I have ever known on a diamond chain, if you asked it of Me.” He smiled at her. “But I know you would not ask. So, allow Me this indulgence, My love.”

The admission threw Grace for another loop, even as His smile made her blush. He’s completely serious! How did I ever find anyone this perfect? she wondered and nodded, trying to shake off the amazement so she could speak. “Oh… Okay. Thank You.”

He ushered her to a comfortable seating arrangement, offering a view of the greenery of the local park outside. Though, arguably the best seating was literally anywhere and everywhere, as they had the entire building’s floor plan to choose from.

But the menus were already there, waiting for them. Grace stared at her menu, the prices swirling around in her head, and she bit her lip in dismay. I know I don’t have to worry, she thought. But I still don’t want to spend too much.

Finally, she took a deep breath and set it down. Grace tucked a lock of hair behind an ear and asked shyly, “Dark, I’m a bit out of my element here. Um, would You mind ordering for me?” 

The waiter came up to them, bearing a bottle of fine wine in a bucket of ice. She cringed slightly inwardly upon seeing the wine bottle.

“Sorry, um I don’t drink. Can I have some water, please?”  

“Of course, darling,” Dark replied, glancing up from His own menu. “Anything you want.” He glanced at the waiter, after the wine had been poured in Dark’s wine glass. “You heard the lady.”

“Yes, Sir,” the young man replied. “Shall I also give you both time to decide?”

“That would be advisable, yes.”

“Very well, Sir.” The waiter gave a nod that was closer to a shallow bow and, turning smartly on his heel, headed towards the kitchen.

“Is there anything in particular you enjoy, My dear Grace?”

She smiled at Dark. “Thank You, My King.”

As the young server left, Grace bit her lip again. Well dangit. This is where my southern upbringing kicks me a little in the behind, I have no clue about this kind of cuisine, she thought and laughed, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly.

“Dark, to tell the truth I have no idea about French cuisine. I’m uh, flying blind as it were.” Hesitating only a second, she reached over the table and held her palm out, a mirror of Dark, on their first date. “I trust You to guide me, My King.”

He chuckled and grasped her hand briefly. Blushing at His chuckle, she smiled and squeezed His hand gently in return.

With His free hand, He flipped through the menu, deciding relatively quickly. “Ah, I think I have a notion of what you might like.”

The waiter returned with the ice water Grace requested, and Dark signaled to him. “You are ready to order, Sir?”

“The lady will have the coq au vin and soupe à l’oignon. And I will have the boeuf tartare and blanquette de veau.”

Grace’s eyes widened when He spoke the French words so fluidly. Why did I have to have a thing for deep voices, and foreign languages?!

The waiter took the menus away. “Your order will arrive shortly, Sir,” he said, before disappearing into the kitchen again.

Dark looked at Grace for a long moment, His near-onyx eyes seemed to probe. “You seem troubled, My dear. I know there has been quite a bit going on in your life, but you know you can talk to Me about it, whenever you like.”

She squirmed slightly under Dark’s onyx eyes. Feels like He can see into my soul, and that wouldn’t be far from the truth. She sighed, smiling weakly. If anyone would notice, of course it would be You, My King. She took a small drink of her water to steady her nerves, squeezing His hand once again. 

“For the past little while… I-I’ve been having nightmares. I had one again just last night a-and it was bad.” Grace shuddered, the horrible images flashing back the forefront of her mind. 

“I am so sorry to hear that, My Grace.” He gently placed His other hand atop hers, so that her small hand is gently captured between both of His larger ones. “Do you wish to discuss it?”

She smiled as she heard the honesty in His voice, as she felt His hands covering hers, the protective and gentle gesture soothing the images away. 

She bit her lip a moment. I want to tell Him. I know He’s seen, heard and done worse then what happened in my nightmare, but can I handle seeing it again, this soon? She wondered to herself, though part of her already knew the answer. “I-I want to tell You Dark, honest. I-I just it was really bad for me. Then again that’s why they’re called nightmares, I suppose.” Another shudder occurred as the nightmare flashes to the forefront again. She took a drink of water and said softly, deciding to give a cliff notes version.

“To put it simply, I-I saw, I saw Reaper take away everyone, everything I cared about. A-And I couldn’t do anything to stop them. I-I’d say more but I don’t know if I can take seeing it again in my head. Not this soon at any rate, but I actually wrote it down, afterwards as a kind of release. I can show You later, if You want to see it?”

“I understand, dearest. We don’t have to talk about it right this moment.” He gently patted her hand, with the one covering it. ”But know that I will do everything within My power to set this matter right.”

She smiled softly. “I know You will, My King. Thank You,” she squeezed His Hand, the one that she was holding in gratitude. Grace then smiled teasingly and asked, remembering their first date. “Could You lean over a moment, Dark? I can’t reach You from here.”

He gave a deep, quiet laugh. She grinned at Dark’s laugh, even as it made her blush. They’ve played this little game before.

He leaned His tall frame over the table, enough for her to easily reach Him. She leaned forward the rest of the way, minimizing the space between them, and kissed Him sweetly.

Dark’s lips met with hers in a gentle moment of affection. He placed His hand at the back of her head, fingers partly laced within her hair, to prolong the kiss. She whimpered softly, grabbing at His suit, instinctively wanting to pull Him closer.

There was an awkward throat-clearing beside them. Dark glanced away and, seeing their waiter, stifled a groan.

“I… uh, have your meals. Sir. Ma’am.”

Dark sighed and pulled away from Grace, sitting back in His seat. “Fine.”

Grace sat back down as well, smiling apologetically at the waiter. “I’m sorry if we just scarred you.”

Dark snorted at that. Doubtful.

She giggled. I’m still not used to Him sounding so human sometimes.

The waiter replied briskly, “Of course not, ma’am. I’m sorry for… uh, interrupting.”

Grace gave the young server a reassuring smile. “It’s alright. You’re just doing your job. Thank you.”

Dark raised an eyebrow, but what would be a murderous expression was considerably softened, into something only those who really knew Him would realize was less fierce.

She smiled a little wider. Maybe I’m rubbing off on Him a bit, too. 

The waiter quickly and efficiently provided them with the dishes of their meals, and added his hope that they enjoyed before walking away from them.

Her gaze switched between the soup and chicken, unsure of which to go for first. Then Grace shrugged and decided to eat alternately.

Both quietly enjoyed their meals. Though there wasn't much talking over the dinner table, there was a comfortable sense of companionship.

As they finished the meal, a curiosity came back to her. Grace asked, tilting her head in a catlike fashion. “My King, can humans learn to speak in demon language?”

“It is very difficult to speak, as the human voice is not equipped to emulate all the aural sounds that demonkind can produce. But some simple words can be learned,” He replied.

She grinned excitedly, feeling like a kid on Christmas. “Would You teach me what’s possible for a human to learn? Please, Dark?”

“What words would you like to know?”

She bit her lip nervously. Oh boy, here we go… she thought and took a deep breath.

“I-I actually have two reasons for asking this of You. The first is I just honestly want to learn. It seems like a fascinating language. And the second reason is, um...” She took a drink of water and another deep breath.

“Dark, do You remember the translator You gave me, for when You laid a very much earned and very satisfying to read, smackdown on Reaper? There were a few words that didn’t translate fully, and I understand why. Like You said it isn’t a perfect method. I ran the words that couldn’t be translated a second time, on their own, to try to figure them out. Two of them got no results... but one of them did. Would You like to know which one?”

He nodded. “I know My language was rather harsh that day, but I will not mind hearing what piqued your interest.”

Grace smirked, chuckling. “Your language was well-earned, and very satisfying to read. It made me feel better with how angry I had been at the time.” Her nerves came back and she smiled weakly. “Um, sorry if I mangle this, My King. I’m just saying how it seems to be spelled.” She took a deep breath and repeated the word, hoping He wouldn’t mind her awkward guess at the pronunciation. “Zoqa.”

He glanced away for a moment, as if hesitant to speak.

She blushed, in embarrassment this time. I hope I didn’t mangle it horribly.

“Zoqa,” He finally said, pronouncing it as ‘zah-kuh’. “It is one of relatively few kind words in demonic language for a loved one, specifically for an intimate companion. It is used to refer to one’s Mate.

“You see, My kind rarely find such love. But, when we do, it is for life. The word zoqa encompasses every tender feeling that one has for their most cherished beloved.”

Her jaw dropped. Holy crap, I-I knew it meant Mate, b-but this?! Oh. My. God. Her eyes widened. That means H-He-! Her thoughts became a whirl at the realization. She took a long drink of water, a deep breath and placed her other hand, on top of His.

“Dark, I never dreamed that I would find anyone. Especially anyone like You, who would want me. But I did, by some miracle of chance I found You. This relationship is a two way street. You're leading me down it, and it’s my job to make sure You don’t trip, right? We can look after each other.” She squeezed His hands, smiling softly. Then she swallowed hard.

“Dark, I-I’ve felt this way about You, for a really long time. Since Raspy Hill, I think. Though I had no clue what I was feeling and mostly ignored it. But, by the time I found Melissa’s blog, I realized what it was.” Grace took another breath and closed her eyes a moment, preparing herself for something she never thought she’d say. 

It’s too late to stop now. This is it. Her voice was soft and full of the emotion she was confessing. “Dark, I-I love You.”

He closed His eyes, breathed in as if to savour a bouquet of fragrance contained in this moment, in those words she told Him.

“There are so many words in human languages to describe the depth of one’s feeling for another. But only this one word from My world truly describes how I feel for you.” He took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it in a courtly fashion. “I have not felt this way in some time, and I thought I never would again.

“I know not from where it came, or how it happened, but I know this one thing. Now that I have found you, I could not bear to lose you.”

Happy tears gathered in Grace’s eyes as she smiled at Him. Her heart felt full to bursting with all the emotion that she held for the Hellgod in front of her. He feels the same. Holy Hell. I-I never thought-I never imagined. I’m so lucky.

She blushed at the sweet gesture and squeezed His hands, gently. “I don’t want to lose you either, Dark. I-I don’t think I could bear it, either.”

He smiled back at her, and reached a hand up to brush away her tears. Grace couldn’t seem to stop smiling as Dark wiped her tears away, careful of her glasses. She laughed softly, idly noting that her cheeks hurt.

“I have not been so happy in a very long time, My love, as I am tonight.”

“I don’t think I have either, My King.” I never knew that you could feel this happy. Guess that’s why they say love is like a drug. It causes bliss.

He then sighed. “Regrettably, this idyll we are sharing cannot last forever. The hour grows late, and no doubt you need to rest.” 

She nodded sheepishly, seeing the time. “It is getting late it seems, though I’m a little leery of more nightmares waiting for me, when I go to bed.”

Slowly, reluctantly, He stood. “Shall I take you home then, darling?”

She nodded and stood, taking Dark’s arm. “Please do, My King.”

With the payment and a sizable tip left on the table, they departed the quiet establishment and headed for His car. Outside, the winter chill picked up, swirling around them. Grace began to shiver, rubbing her arms for warmth, as the cold air seemed to seep right into her marrow. Downsides of a dress? Thin fabric.

Seeing her shiver, He immediately took His jacket off and placed it over her shoulders in gentlemanly fashion. “I won’t have you catch your death of cold now, darling.”

She was charmed by the gesture, and clutched at the coat tightly, surprised to find it warm despite the apparent chill of Dark’s Vessel. She smiled at Him, nuzzling a little into the coat. “Thank You, Dark.”

A stray, curious thought came to mind, and she snapped her mouth shut before she could blurt it out to Him. The blush returned to her pale features.

“You are quite welcome.” He chuckles at the renewed flush to her features. “And you are blushing again, My beauty. Tell Me, what has you so flustered?”

Frick, of course He’d ask! She began to fiddle with the sleeves of the coat, and stammered, her ears, face and throat burning from keen embarrassment. “Um I-I w-was gonna ask, um i-if You wanted t-to, put Your tie around my neck, t-too. B-But I-I realized h-how it sounded, so I-I didn’t.” 

He laughed quietly. “Well, that can be taken in many, many ways, My dear. I sometimes forget that, in some respects, you are an innocent.”

He easily removed His tie, and gently twined it around her neck as if it were a scarf. “I imagine that’s what you want, to be as warm as possible, rather than some other choices.”

His laugh made her blush somehow get deeper. My body and soul are innocent, my mind not so much. She trembled softly, as His fingers ghosted around her neck. His tie like His suit seemed to be, and probably was, silk. So soft, dang. No wonder people make it into pajamas.

Hyper-aware of the softness around her neck, trying not to let her mind wander into the same place as earlier, she stammered, “Th-Thank You, My King.” 

She took Dark’s arm, resting her head on it and tried to get her blush to go down. Chills suddenly went down her spine, and the hair on the back of her neck rose. Uh oh.

She whispered softly. “Dark, is there someone following us? Or watching us? I just got a bad feeling.”

“There is, indeed,“ He said very quietly. “But keep walking. I will handle this.” He let go of her arm. The car was only a few short feet away, and He hit the button on the key fob to unlock the doors, so she could get in.

Understanding, she nodded. Not the time to try and help. You can’t really fight in this dress, Grace, and Dark can handle Himself. She whispered, “Please be careful, My King.” She kept walking to the car, pace picking up slightly. Grace quickly got in, and buckled the seat belt. She watched Dark from the front view window, biting her lip nervously.

Dark turned in the fashion of someone who hadn’t a care in the world to the two men who had been following them. The fact that it was only two muggers was reassuring to Grace. At least it wasn’t a gang, that may have potentially given Dark problems.

One of the men was carrying a tire iron and, though iron would still burn Him, He blocked the swing with His forearm. Twisting the implement away from the man, He took a solid swing with the iron, knocking the man to the ground.

The iron dropped from Dark’s scalded hand.

Grace bit back a worried cry. Fuck that’s not good! Iron is one of the few things that hurts Him!  She wanted to simultaneously yell and slap Him. Dark, don’t You dare hurt Yourself! DARK, NO! Oh, You stubborn Hellgod!

The second man, out of anger for his injured associate, began to run forward in an attempt to close the gap. Dark made a flourish with His uninjured hand in the empty air like an orchestra conductor, and the man’s neck snapped like a twig.

When the man dropped like a puppet whose strings were cut, she cringed, realizing what had happened. Sorry. You picked the wrong person, the wrong couple, to try and rob. But I hope you find peace.

Dark glanced at the first man, the surviving member of the pair of muggers. His voice carried the demonic echo He’d been holding back all night. “If you value your life, run.”

Dark’s voice, His real voice made her tremble. She could feel it rumbling through the car.

The mugger didn’t have to be told twice. He ran as if the Devil were hot at his heels. Which wouldn’t be too terribly far from the truth. 

Dark gave the moment no more thought than brief annoyance at the injury to His hand, and headed for the driver’s side of His car.

When Dark opened the door, and got in, she saw His hand. She gasped, eyes widening. It’s a bad burn, she would guess second, almost third degree, already blistering and peeling.

“Dark, Your hand! It’s worse than I thought!” Grace took it, very gently in both of hers. Careful to keep her fingers away from the injury

“How bad does it hurt, My King?”

He gave a quiet hiss as He flexed His hand, as if to try to reassure Himself that there’s still feeling in the digits. “It is not as painful as it could be,” He said.

Grace fixed Dark with a glare, chocolate eyes hard and serious, then she took one hand away from His injured one. And slapped His arm.

“This is why we do not pick up iron pipes! This looks bad, Dark. If You were human, I would have You drive to a hospital. As is, I have another idea.”  She fished into her bag and speed dialed home.

“Hey Melissa? Get the first aid kit. No! No, no I’m fine! I promise! It’s Dark, the stubborn Hellgod...He picked up an iron pipe. He confronted a couple muggers, yes, I’m sure I’m fine. Uh huh, yeah we’re leaving now. Yes, I’ll keep hold of His hand so He won’t make it worse. Thank you Melissa, see you soon.” She hung up, and breathed a sigh of relief. Okay, one part done, now the other. She took Dark’s injured hand with her free one again and fixed Him with another glare.

“Dark, don’t You DARE endanger Yourself like that again! I know, it was just a pipe, But what if they had had a gun, instead of a pipe?! I-I couldn’t stand to see You shot, not again. I-I know it isn’t fatal to You, but it took You so long to heal, the last time. I-I-” She cut myself off, throat tight with the remembered pain. She clutched His injured hand tighter, still careful not to touch the burn. She whispered, heart aching at the thought of Dark being hurt.“I-I couldn’t stand it, if You were hurt that bad again Dark. Please, be more careful, My King?”

Dark accepted the thorough dressing-down with the dignity of one who is facing the inevitable. He’d hardly blinked at the slap to His arm. “Understood, My dear.”

Grace smirked and chirped.“Good! Glad we understand each other.” She giggled and teased, “I’ll be the voice of reason, in Your normal insanity.”

He then smirked. “But that is why I have you, I suppose. To prevent Me from overestimating the durability of this Vessel, or of becoming overconfident in My abilities where caution is more advisable. And, failing that, to pick up the pieces of My own foolhardy self from the pavement.”

She cringed at the image her mind conjured of seeing Dark drop to the ground, in pain and bleeding. Calling out for her, for help. She gave Him a pleading look. “Don’t joke like that, not right now, please?” Don’t start crying Grace, not now. You can when you get home. “Let’s get home Dark, we have to see about Your hand.”

His smile faded, and His voice became soft. His sobered expression seemed almost earnest.

“My apologies, zoqa. It is not My intention to cause you to fret.” He glanced back down at His injured hand, that she was clinging to now, however gently. “And you are right, of course. This wound cannot be allowed to fester.”

He started the car and was capable of guiding it with His uninjured hand back to Grace’s apartment.

The endearment sent a powerful warmth through her body, that chased away the painful images of Dark that her mind conjured in protective worry and fear. 

And it made her blush softly, Grace sniffled again, sending Him a soft smile.

“It’s alright, My King. I know You didn’t mean to make me worry. I’m just being protective again. And a bit of a worrywart.” And isn’t that ironic? The human’s the one worried over the demon. She breathed a sigh of relief, and her smile widened.

“Thank You, My King. For letting me and Melissa help You.” 

Melissa was there with the emergency kit when Dark and Grace walked in through the door.

Grace smiled. “Thank you, Melissa.” She guided Dark to the couch and gently pushed Him into sitting down, setting His injured hand palm out on His knee. Now, the hard part. Getting Dark to stay still while He’s being treated.

“Now, You stay right here, My King. And don’t move Your hand, I know this stuff doesn’t feel the best. But please, don’t pull away from this.” 

Dark allowed Himself to be guided, only offering a token resistance to the gentle nudge. He arranged Himself comfortably on the couch, giving Grace a small smile. “I do believe I have been told by a certain beloved of mine to be more careful.”

Grace nodded, blushing softly at His smile. ”Yes, You have. And I want You to keep that in mind My King, before You pull stunts like this again.” She turned to Melissa. “Do you need me to get anything else, before we start?”

Melissa shook her head and opened the emergency kit, readying cotton balls with rubbing alcohol. “This is gonna sting a bit,” she warned. And though Melissa personally didn’t like Him, she did her best to be gentle. He gave a quiet hiss in pain but didn’t pull away, keeping His hand still as she tended to it

Hearing His quiet hiss of pain, she grabbed Dark’s uninjured hand in both of hers. “Squeeze my hand if it hurts.”

Though she wasn’t the the fastest gun in the West exactly, Melissa was able to patch Him up in relatively short order because He was cooperating. Then again, bandaging a wound isn’t exactly hard when you’ve spent a lot of time in and out of hospitals like she had.

Melissa took a breath as she prepared to unload one heck of a verbal bomb. But He’s been on our side this time around, so He has a right to know. “You should know, Dark, that that Reaper idiot has threatened Grace multiple times, and has been mocking her feelings for You.” She cleared her throat, adding, “And, as far as we know, Silver’s still in a coma.” She glanced at Grace. “Is that everything, or did I miss a few?”

Ooh boy, here we go. Grace winced inwardly. As she took a deep breath, Grace nodded and took over the explanation. “Actually, um, yeah... you did. Reaper has another personality, er, well... multiple actually. We’ve only met one so far, I call them Ryuk. They’re like an abused kid.

“Ryuk wants to be free, wants it to stop hurting and they believe Reaper can do that. Which is not true. Reaper’s said they hate the balance, I-I think they’re going to put Ryuk, into Silver and then either, kill Silver themselves, or get Ryuk to kill themselves. Thus being rid of Ryuk. Though, that leaves them with the other, unknown number of other personalities, still.”  

It was hard to miss that Dark gently grasped her hand after Melissa finished bandaging. “I promise you, My Grace. This matter will be dealt with. Continue trying to solve the puzzles. I will attempt to locate them through other means.” His voice became a growl. “This insult will not stand.”

She gently grasped Dark’s hand in return, the possessive use of her name and the following rumble of His growl made her blush just a little despite the circumstances.

“We’ll do our best, My King. Just... please be careful, whatever means You use?”

“I will, dearest. I will see you again soon.” He placed a quick but loving kiss on her lips.

Grace sighed softly into the quick kiss and nodded. “See you again soon, My King.”

As He left, she felt something wiggling at the back of her mind. Wait, I feel I’m forgetting something….  Grace looked down at herself and it hit her. Dark didn’t get His coat or tie back! And, somehow it’s still warm, and it has His scent, still. 

Grace looked at Melissa, who was giving her a cat-like smirk, like any older sibling that caught onto teasing material. Grace blushed crimson, and spoke through gritted teeth. “Don’t. Say. A. Word!” 

Apparently, she wasn’t scary enough, and her friend burst out laughing. Grace scrambled for a pillow to throw at her. Oh, Ash is going to be just as bad, when he finds out!

Throwing a pillow from the couch at her laughing friend. It hit Melissa, momentarily muffling her elation. Grace grinned, despite the embarrassment that was common among good friends and siblings and as the pillow fell to the floor, laughed along.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 015: Some Antics on a Boat

Previously on BnHA: Field trip from hell. Ride of the Valkyries played while about 200 villains appeared out of nowhere and tried to murder our beloved superpowered children and split them all up, thus setting the stage for lots of mayhem.

Today on BnHA: We meet the U.A. principal. Deku hangs out with Tsuyu and Mineta on a boat. Mineta gets a lot of focus, and I was prepared for it to be the worst thing ever, but it mostly isn’t, except for about once every four pages or so, when it kinda is.

(ETA: Yeah so he officially took it Too Far in chapter 17 and as of that chapter is now in fact dead to me. But I’m not gonna bother changing the recap, so you can all come along on that journey with me if you are so inclined.)

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 19 23 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

I really have to hunt down these color pages one of these days. I tried a brief google search the other day but it brought up too many pages I hadn’t seen yet, and I didn’t want to spoil myself by accident. guess I’ll have to be patient

son of a bitch All Might is in the break room all the way back at fucking U.A.??

here I thought there was a break room hidden somewhere in USJ. I mean, you’d think they would have one; rescue training has got to be tiring

he says he should be fine in another ten minutes. then he says he’s going now

but he immediately coughs up blood orz

HEY IT’S THIS PANDA WITH A SCAR!! I KNOW THIS GUY! well I don’t know him but I’ve seen him before!

holy fucking SHIT he’s the fucking principal??

what the fuck kind of I’ll-fuck-your-shit-up powers is he fucking hiding behind that cuddly face then

because I know it’s just an assumption, but surely the principal of U.A. has to be a stone-cold badass, right?

I can’t believe this fucking little gerbil knows Deku’s secret

now he’s fucking plugging the fucking superhero vitamin shoppe I can’t

and he’s holding up a tablet with a yahoo news article about All Might saving everyone and their fucking dog earlier that morning

that’s a nice little plug for you, tumblr. yahoo still owns this shit, right?

so this fucking rat praises All Might for being his good heroic self, but then gently tells him off and reminds him to take it easy

I’m glad he’s reminding All Might to take better care of himself, but...

you would fucking think so! and yet!!

oh my god now this guy is sitting down to have tea with him. he’s never going to make it to USJ at this rate

I have to assume the principal isn’t secretly evil, since if he was, he could take down All Might all too easily since he knows all of his fucking secrets. but he sure does have the worst fucking timing, jesus

though again, we still don’t know how much danger All Might would actually be in if he did go to USJ. those villains seemed pretty damn confident. maybe he should just stay here and enjoy some tea

he calls him “Sensei”... not sure if that’s just because the principal outranks him, or if he actually was his teacher at some point. it’s probably the former, but. hmm

and now we’re back at USJ! Thirteen and Iida are on the run along with Still Too Many Arms and The Bulky Guy with Slightly Racist Lips. (do you guys think they’re racist? idk I just think it’s 2018 and there are other ways to draw POC, Japan)

anyway, they’re fighting Dr. Neck who at this point really needs a new name because he’s still a shadowy blob and now he’s looking more like an octopus but Dr. Octopus is already taken, so

for now I’m just gonna call him Not Today, Satan. you know. cuz of all the Swirling Evil

Thirteen is sending Iida back to U.A. to let them know what’s going on since the communications and alarms are down! good thinking to send the guy with super speed. I just hope he has the stamina. they never really mentioned anything about that but I’ll assume he’s good to run however many miles back to the U.A. campus

that is, assuming he’s fast enough to dodge Not Today, Satan. but I have faith

Iida’s trying to argue that he should stay, but clearly this is the most useful thing he can do at the moment, especially considering that he’s the only one who can do it! just go, Iida.

THIS IS YOUR MOMENT, CLASS REPRESENTATIVE

lmao and I was actually thinking the same as NTS here:

oh, just, everyone. in shounen manga, ever, since the beginning of time. but I’m so fucking happy you pointed that out lmao

back on the boat, Mineta is still freaking out very unhelpfully. he thinks they should all just hide somewhere until the grown-up heroes come to save them

meanwhile, Deku is being smart and useful and brings up a very good point that hadn’t even occurred to me:

basically, he deduces that the bad guys don’t know what the kids’ quirks are. so they have the element of surprise on their side, AND the bonus advantage of the villains underestimating them

I’m super impressed with this kid’s leadership and planning skills right now. I know he’s already showed them off, but I’m still mad about him not utilizing Ochako’s powers properly the last time lol. but this time he seems to be off to a great start

also, what a contrast from his first time facing a group of intimidating “villains” back during the entrance exam! he’s come such a long way so quickly

Tsuyu starts listing all of her gross frog abilities (sorry, I love her, but “I can spit out my stomach” is not something I ever needed or wanted to know and now I kind of want to spit out my eyes from the mental image).

so gross

Mineta becomes derangedly fixated on her usage of the word “secrete” and just. why

I actually kind of wish they weren’t loudly explaining all of their strengths and weaknesses to each other within possible earshot of the baddies (some of whom could possess super-hearing for all they know), especially barely three pages after Not Today, Satan chewed out their friends for doing the same exact fucking thing. but whatever

now Mineta’s doing something. what’s your power then, Mineta. something to do with grapes I’m guessing??

how did this kid make it past the entrance exam

LMAO

THEY’RE SO MAD. EVEN DEKU. THAT’S THE MOST STERN I’VE EVER SEEN HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE LUFFY AFTER SOMEBODY HAS JUST TOLD HIM THERE’S NO FOOD

sob now Mineta is crying

this is quality fucking comedy

oh shit the villains are getting tired of waiting

um this unsettling man with a grasshopper face just fucking broke the boat in half

so Mineta shoots out a bunch of panic grapes for absolutely no reason

literally Lambo and his grenade trigger-response

I confess, I really think Mineta is cute and somewhat hilarious when he’s not being a perverted shithead

(ETA: I was young and naive and I didn’t expect him to actually go and start feeling people up holy shit)

Deku berates him at first but then realizes that the bad guys are avoiding the grapes out of an abundance of caution!

Mineta freaks out again, and I was this close to writing down a paragraph about how I really empathize with him, since he’s just a kid and only like four days into high school, and all of a sudden he’s just thrust into this situation where he might fucking die (and probably die horribly at that). this close. but then he has to ruin it with a line about how much he wishes he could have sexually assaulted Momo before he kicked it

so that’s... great

but Deku saves the moment by quoting All Might while simultaneously doing That Thing I Fucking Love where someone tries to be brave and determined even though they’re also clearly scared. look he is trembling

Deku my son you are a constant delight and a gift to the world

oh my god

sure, just casually mention Kacchan as your inspiration for whatever heroic and probably very stupid thing you’re about to do next. go ahead, do that. don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine

...that is very Kacchan-like. like, the face and everything. he knows his shit

also, what exactly is he planning to do?

so he’s thinking that he can’t take out all of them no matter how extreme he goes. and then he says something about not sacrificing his whole arm, so is he gonna pull another stunt like he did with the baseball and his index finger?

GASP HE’S THINKING ABOUT THE EGG IN THE MICROWAVE

IS HE GONNA DO IT? CLENCH LIGHTLY DEKU!!!! I BELIEVE IN YOU

HE’S PULLING BACK HIS MIDDLE FINGER OH MY GOD IS HE GONNA FLICK THE WATER AND CREATE SOME SORT OF TIDAL WAVE

AHHH

THE WORST FUCKING STATE, LITERALLY MY LEAST FAVORITE!! BUT!! ALSO ONE OF THE SMALLEST SO IT’S FITTING!!!

YESSSS

EVEN BETTER THAN A TIDAL WAVE OMG. DUDE CREATED A FUCKING VORTEX

OH FUCK ME I DIDN’T NEED TO SEE THE AFTERMATH. WE ALREADY GET IT, JESUS

lkshdgk it’s not supposed to do that fuckk

Mineta is inspired, somehow, but doesn’t know how the fuck to direct it so he just throws more grapes

but now the grapes are actually coming in handy!!

looks like team rocket’s blasting off againnnn... *ping*

yay! and Deku’s not crying even though his hand is mangled! such a brave strong boy.

and then shawarma after

BONUS:

interesting that he thinks this is somehow “the right balance”

(ETA: hey Horikoshi, psa, literally committing sexual battery is not “balance” in any way, shape, of form. jesus christ. I love Japan for the most part, but the rampant misogyny there is completely ridiculous and I really need them to get their shit together already. #metoo needs to get the fuck underway there like yesterday.)

one thing I DO like though is that Horikoshi actually gives a very thoughtful and detailed explanation for exactly how he passed the exam! thank you for that! now I can stop wondering. I still have no clue about the invisible girl though lol

[clstories61-blog]

CONCLUDING POST

As a huge fan of fictional works that have an emphasis on medieval or ancient history (e.g. Game of Thrones television series and the Assassin’s Creed video game franchise), I had hoped to focus on a storyworld that possessed two key qualities: a strong foundation in history and creative interpretation that still respected historical accuracy. My initial choice was the Assassin’s Creed gaming franchise because of its ingenious retelling of major historical events, but after seeing Steven Spielberg’s television epic Band of Brothers that contains elements of a docudrama, I was reminded of the Ancient Rome: The Rise and Fall of an Empire “Nero” I had seen in Latin class during high school. The purpose of my storyworld was to really explore the history and actual life of an incredibly misunderstood and misrepresented historical figure. My goal was to help inform the public about this dark period of Roman history and the man behind it all. Indeed, the 5th Roman Emperor Nero did commit many atrocities, and I do not condone nor try to excuse his actions. In fact, he would most likely rank in the bottom tier of Roman Emperors in terms of the effectiveness of their rule. 

But it is vital to understand that Nero was not always a bad ruler or the monster history turned him out to be. His early reign was marked with a remarkable era of growth and peace, and Emperor Nero was beloved by his people. After surviving hundreds of assassination attempts as a teen even from his own mother and later constantly having to worry about the Roman Senate and his own Praetorian Guard, it is no wonder Nero became increasingly erratic and paranoid even without his psychological problems. What we have historically referred to as Nero’s “Descent into Madness” shows signs of psychological illness such as late onset bipolar disorder and schizophrenia as modern-day scholars now point out. I take great care to also ensure that the myths about his legend are dispelled: in the caption for the Tumblr page I made sure to include in his description “history’s greatest alleged pyromaniac,” since after all, his infamous legend is untrue. 

The psychotic despot who has been portrayed as laughing and singing as his city burned was in fact a heroic leader who took charge to defend his people and fight to protect his city from an existential threat. Overall, separating fact from fiction was extremely difficult, and the fact that our sources of Nero and the Roman Empire often come from ancient writings does not make this job of discernment easy. Moreover, trying to research Nero ended up being more of a “how do I separate the fandom of Fate’s Nero Claudius” spilling into any research. Seriously, try it. Type in Nero Claudius (as this was the 5th Emperor’s shortened actual name) and you’ll get FLOODED with images of the anime, gender bent Nero Claudius and texts of “UMU!”

Reddit has even so graciously created a meme to commemorate the two famous Neros:

Still, I am grateful to Type-Moon, despite its incessant commercialization of historical figures to pander to its male fan base, for promoting interest in ancient history and maintain an impressive degree of historical accuracy and adding in their own creativity. BBC docudramas like Ancient Rome can only do so much with a much more limited viewership, since its focus is on scholarship first rather than entertainment. In my opinion, looking through both perhaps is the best way to approach learning about the tale of Nero, the last Emperor of the Julio-Claudian Dynasty. Through my storyworld project, I believe I was successful in both my goal of shedding light on a very complicated period in Roman history, helping uncover the true life of Nero, and encouraging individual learning of ancient history. Without doing a project on Nero, I would have also never have realized how popular “Nero Claudius,” or the Fate series by Type-Moon that actively promotes history with creative interpretations and entertainment. Though I do not see myself actively engaging in any fandom, I have already planned out some time to go watch Type-Moon’s Nero Claudius television anime series on Netflix!          

[superman86to99]

Superman: The Man of Steel #23 (July 1993)

REIGN OF THE SUPERMEN! In this issue: Steel vs. Superboy! I mean, "Superman” vs. “Superman”. The Man of Steel is battling some hoodlums armed with hi-tech killer weapons when the Metropolis Kid decides to butt in and "save him" in front of the cameras that follow him 24/7. (Side note: Was Superboy the first '90s reality TV star?) The Kid draws all the firepower to himself... accidentally causing the bad guys to shoot down a Daily Planet helicopter containing Lois Lane. The chopper blows up, signaling the death of a classic and beloved DC Comics character: Frank the helicopter pilot. RIP.

Lois, meanwhile, manages to jump out of the exploding chopper in time (probably out of pure muscle memory) and is rescued by Steel in a rather familiar-looking scene.

Lois tries to turn the tragic situation into an exclusive interview with Steel, but Steel has something more important to do: chewing Superboy's butt for scaring off those criminals he was trying to interrogate (and, you know, causing a man's death). The Kid is like "I'm da real Superman, yo!" and bails... but as he flies away, he actually starts questioning his half-assed approach to superheroics. I'm sure Frank's wife and 12 children would find great comfort in that.

Meanwhile, Steel is approached by Lex Luthor Jr., who wants to offer him a job as one of his armored security guards (because having one S-shielded superhero in his pocket isn't enough for him). To butter Steel up, Lex offers him the location of the White Rabbit -- aka, the lady distributing all those highly advanced weapons to street gangs. Steel thanks Lex for the tip and immediately ditches him, making it clear that his services aren’t for sale.

Steel drops by the White Rabbit’s penthouse, and she turns out to be an old flame from his time as a weapons designer for the military. Things almost get steamy for a second in there, until Steel remembers that this lady has made him indirectly responsible for countless deaths (all those weapons are his design). Once she takes the hint that Steel won’t work for her (either), White Rabbit just shoots him point blank with one of those big-ass guns, launching him off the building and into a convenient tanker parked outside.

Superboy (who was following Steel to apologize for being a dick) flies in just in time to pull Steel’s body from the resulting tanker explosion:

By the time Superboy and Steel return to White Rabbit’s penthouse, the place is already empty. The two Supermen then bond over that whole “we’ve both caused innocent people to die today” thing and part amicably. Awww!

Plotline-Watch:

Ponytailed scumbag Jeb Friedman, having given Lois Lane WEEKS to recover from her fiance’s supposed death, urges her to “forget Clark” and go to Cairo with him. Don Sparrow says: “I hesitate to even mention that the hated Jeb Friedman appears here, and even Jimmy doesn’t want Lois rebounding with him. Serious question, though: are we supposed to hate Jeb? Or is it just happenstance?” If we weren’t supposed to hate Jeb, would they have given him a ponytail, Don?

After meeting Steel, Lois reflects on the fact that the other Supermen may look like Clark, but Steel is the only one who acts like him. Obviously she doesn’t think Clark’s already been reincarnated as an adult black man, but she does seriously wonder if ghostly possession is a real thing.

I love how efficiently Steel’s backstory is presented in this issue. As he and White Rabbit are about to lock lips, we see a handful of black-and-white panels showing the two working together for the military, hooking up, finding out his weapons were being used against innocents in Qurac, and then a flashback-within-the-flashback of Steel’s grandparents having just become victims of gang violence. It’s only half a page but it tells you everything you need to know about this dude and his motivation.

Superboy burns his hands while rescuing Steel, even though a clone of Superman should be equally invulnerable. Hmm. Hmmmm. Hmmmmmm.

The issue ends with Supergirl telling Lex she’s going off to look for Superboy, which leads to the next issue of Adventures.

And this leads to the end of my section! For more commentary, Easter eggs, and gratuitous images of White Rabbit, check out Don Sparrow’s section after the jump:

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow​):

Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like none of the other four Superman titles seems as swayed by the importance of the storyline as SMOS.  What do I mean? I mean that when it’s a big storyline, like Panic in the Sky, or Doomsday, the art on the title really seems to rise to the occasion, and there’s some standout stuff being produced.  But in the meantime, when a story doesn’t feel as important, the quality seems to dip a little. To me, this is one of those issues.  We begin with the cover, and it’s not one of Bogdanove’s best.  Sure, his artwork could be called cartoony at the best of times, but this one really took on a loose, loony tunes sketchiness, particularly in Superboy’s “ain’t I a stinker?” expression and giant wall of teeth. He looks less like a 16 year old than he resembles Rex Leech, a character we’ll come to know better in time.

Inside, the story gets off to a slow start, as we’re abruptly thrown into a video of wannabe gangsters, moving in on where they think they’ll find John Henry Irons.  The double page splash revealing his location is an exciting one, and Dennis Janke does some interesting things with his hatching to indicate the shine of the metal, leaving certain areas unhatched to show a glimmer. 

Bog’s depictions of The White Rabbit continue to push the envelope for how much skin a comic code approved book can show, both on page 7, and then later in the book. [Max: This next sequence of panels burned itself into my young mind. Because of the cool panel layout, I mean.]

[December 2018 edit: White Rabbit’s body has been covered with Mike Carlin’s face so that Tumblr doesn’t delete this post. Sorry.]

Page 8 brings us a long sought after in-comics cameo.  If you’ll recall, back on one of my first reviews on this site, I interviewed the great Tom Grummett and asked him if there were any Easter Eggs that we should look out for while we were reading.  He answered that "My personal favorite moment was when Jon Bogdanove drew me in a scene with Jimmy Olsen in one issue of Man of Steel. I’m the one with the moose on his shirt. Happy hunting.”  Well, we need hunt no more, as a certain fellow pops up, arguing with Jimmy Olsen, and what’s that on his shirt?  A moose?! Found you! [Max: Are we the first on the internet to point out this cameo? I don’t have time to look it up, so let’s go with “Yes”.]

I also love the little gag in the lettering, where the first part of “Saskatchewan” (Tom’s home province) is shown as “Saskatch” and then below that Bog has written “W-1”, phonetically completing the phrase.   It’s also a very Neal Adams-y couple of panels when Jimmy and Tom start to get heated debating who the real Superman is.  [Max: I wonder if the Neal Adams-esque panels above are homaging a specific Adams comic, or just his “intense argument” poses in general...]  Then a page later, there’s an unmistakable rendering of another Super-Teamster, none other than group editor Mike Carlin, scanning the police radio for scoops.

As the story progresses, there’s a great shot of the Metropolis Kid (who they refer to as Superboy on this page, without a rebuttal from the Kid) showboating and holding one hand behind his back.  But, on the page that follows, a pretty heavy end for Daily Planet chopper pilot “Frank”, made all the more sickening by the lack of concern from the Kid leading up to this point. 

Some great visual callback on page 12, as the mob scene when the Man of Steel rescues Lois Lane recalls the meet-cute at the shuttle disaster wayyyy back in MOS #1.

The scene were John Henry confronts the Kid about his carelessness is well-done, even if it gives way to another mention of the preposterous ‘spirit-walk-in’ idea, which even these characters seem to find tenuous.  

The flashback with White Rabbit does a good job of filling in the gaps of John Henry’s history (interesting how similar Irons’ motivation is to that of Tony Stark’s, at least in the movies) but it’s an odd scene—not just because of the aforementioned vamping from White Rabbit, but also Irons’ inaction in the scene—he went there to capture her, but mostly just stands around and then lets her stroll back over to the bed, where a weapon is clearly visible from where he’s standing. [Max: Can’t imagine what else he could be looking at.]

As The Metropolis Kid rescues The Man of Steel, we get more looney tunes-style comedy, when the Kid comedically blows on his burning hands, trying to cool them. They seem to be working hard to establish how different his powers are from Kal-El’s, though they eventually go back on almost all of this stuff.

Moving on, we get a really nice look at Lois at a rainy window, once again musing on how the Man of Steel, while physically the most removed from Kal-El, seems to embody his “soul” more than the rest.

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

Is the cameraman gangster supposed to be a riff on Spike Lee? The glasses seem pretty similar to ones Spike wore at the time.

How is it that we never noticed such a giant, futuristic tower on the Metropolis skyline before?

Jimmy Olsen wearing a Spin Doctors t-shirt is a little too meta for my head, since one of their biggest hits was “Jimmy Olsen’s Blues”.  What does the DC Universe Jimmy think when he hears a song about himself, lusting after Lois Lane?  They were also one of my favourite bands when this issue came out, so my mind was doubly blown.

What is it with Lex hanging onto VHS tapes?  Thank God he never got his hands on that one of Big Barda! [Max: Dammit, I’d JUST managed to erase that from my mind, Don.]

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

The complex allure of cursed images

Everyone has a guilty internet pleasure.

Some spice up their time online by watching porn in an incognito browser, others find solace in binge-scrolling through pages and pages of their co-workers Twitter likes to determine if they have decent morals. And there are hundreds of thousands of people who get their internet kicks by willingly exposing themselves to a daily dose of repulsive, cringeworthy images. 

While recreationally staring at photographs of shit-filled toilet bowls and insultingly tone-deaf stock images might not necessarily have been considered a socially acceptable practice pre-internet, over the past few years accounts like @darkstockphotos, @scarytoilet, and @cursedimages have made celebrating cursed images a common and even somewhat conventional pastime.

SEE ALSO: Alpaca accounts are underrated social media treasures

As dedicated meme-lovers may know, cursed images began gaining attention on Tumblr back in 2015. But after the original @cursedimages Twitter account was created in 2016, the concept of allowing oneself to be openly amused by cursed content started to become more widely embraced.

Over several months, @cursedimages exposed thousands of Twitter timelines to a fair share of visual nightmares, and though the creator stopped posting photographs on Oct. 31, 2016  — with the exception of a single image tweeted in 2017 — they inspired the creation of other accounts that are dedicated to sharing cursed content, such as the photo of Ryan McFarland's DIY guacamole doll serving dish shown below.

cursed image 9192 pic.twitter.com/fuT6bSjZKO

— cursed images (@cursedimages) October 18, 2016

The masters of cursed imagery on what inspired their craft

Shortly after the exhausting 2016 presidential election, fans of @cursedimages began to notice that the beloved account had gone dark. A little over a month later, in hopes of regaining that small and strange, but bizarrely uplifting space online, one brave soul decided to take action. 

"After the 2016 election, my Twitter timeline was a depressing mess," Sarah the 39-year-old who created @cursedimages_2, explained over email. "It made me realize how much I looked forward to their [@cursedimage’s] posts… and after a while I decided to attempt to pick up where they left off."

"I was an instant fan of the original account. The images were weird and creepy and I loved the idea of the ‘cursed image’ being numbered, as if it'd been pulled from some deep, classified archive," Sarah said. So she set out to share her own cursed images, starting with cursed image 7285 — a girl and her doll. 

cursed image 7285 pic.twitter.com/X54JvWMrtA

— cursed images (@cursedimages_2) December 27, 2016

While Sarah was busy posting photos of culinary abominations, nail art fails, creepy costumes, and NSFW optical illusions, a man named Andy Kelly was inspired to throw his hat in the cursed imagery ring. In June 2017, after years of finding amusement in the absurd collection of stock images on sites like Getty and Shutterstock, Kelly decided to create @darkstockphotos — a place where he could share the especially confounding stock images he stumbled upon with the rest of the world.

"In the depths of these sites, 30 pages into a search, I started noticing images that weren't like the others; images that were darker and more disturbing, illustrating some really heavy subject matter, but still fundamentally absurd," Kelly explained. "And so I decided to start collecting some of the weirdest, darkest, and most bewildering I found and posting them on Twitter."

pic.twitter.com/6LRutwVfzS

— Dark Stock Photos (@darkstockphotos) October 2, 2018

Now, more than 360,000 followers subscribe to see Kelly's curated timeline of stock photos that attempted to visually represent violence, addiction, depression, and a slew of other serious topics, but gravely missed the mark. He's even published a book.

Much like Kelly, personal experience is also what inspired Phil, the 24-year-old behind @scarytoilets to create his cursed accounts. During his time at university in May 2018, after using the restroom at "a particularly bad nightclub," Phil was compelled to start the Toilets with Threatening Auras Facebook page. Shortly after it gained an impressive amount of traction, he started a Twitter account.

pic.twitter.com/54ct63PFQw

— Toilets With Threatening Auras (@scarytoilet) August 11, 2018

"When I set it up it seemed quite funny to explore something so incongruous," Phil said. "And when I delved into the wealth of images that are relevant to the topic is [it] just became even more entertaining." 

Turns out Phil’s obsession with whimsical, creepy, and downright repulsive porcelain thrones was contagious. And there are apparently so many cursed facilities in the world that he now gets the majority of the images he posts from direct messages.

The unusual charm of the cursed image

By nature, many "cursed images" are not meant to be enjoyed. Oftentimes the content they contain is intrinsically repulsive, and therefore, shouldn’t necessarily trigger delight within us. Yet, somehow, so many of them do.

In a 2016 article, New York Magazine’s Brian Feldman noted that the subjects in the images aren’t always what provokes a lingering double take, rather sometimes it’s the poor quality of an image that leaves onlookers with a cursed vibe.

Feldman argued that “Cursed images draw their power not from the actual objects pictured, but from the fact that photos like these are bygone products of antiquated technology.” And while that’s definitely true in certain cases, if you were to show me a photo of a hairless cat staring into a pot of raw chicken, a cloven hoof inexplicably sticking out of a toilet bowl, or a sobbing child holding a gun, I would consider each of those images "cursed," even if Annie Leibovitz shot them using the world’s most expensive camera.

cursed image 594 pic.twitter.com/N3ciIqa3zw

— cursed images (@cursedimages_2) January 4, 2019

pic.twitter.com/JI7R1SyZaO

— Toilets With Threatening Auras (@scarytoilet) January 11, 2019

While there are definitely exceptions, the majority of cursed images shared by these accounts do seem to be at least lightly fucked up. So what is it that makes people feel it's totally and completely OK to smash the like button on them? 

For all three of the account creators I interviewed, the main draw to cursed images is humor, albeit very dark humor.

“Social media can quickly get depressing and it really does help to break it up a bit with other types of content,” Sarah of @cursedimages_2 explained. “For me, the cursed images posts provided an unexpected moment of comic relief. And I think cringe-y stuff kind of makes us feel a little better about ourselves… in a harmless schadenfreude kind of way."

Kelly agrees, adding that the dark stock photos he shares stray so far from reality that he can’t help but find them comical.

"What I find so fascinating, and hilarious, about stock photos is how blunt and artless they are. These photographers will take something serious like, say, seasonal depression. Then they'll illustrate it by having a guy sit in front of a Christmas tree with a bottle of whiskey and a pistol,” he said. “The most serious subject matter is rendered absurd by the lens of the stock photographer, and that is an endless source of amusement for me. They don't reflect reality in any way: they're like some alien's twisted, third-hand approximation of the human experience.”

pic.twitter.com/kj5VtLFJWn

— Dark Stock Photos (@darkstockphotos) September 10, 2018

And though it's occasionally vile, Phil's toilet account also helps people flush away negativity. “I’ve been messaged a few times through both Twitter and Facebook… people telling me they like following because it breaks their timeline or newsfeed," Phil said. “I think it’s nice to see humour in something most people wouldn’t normally. The images usually aren’t really ‘threatening’ but just silly entertainment."

Cursed content gets personal

While humor is definitely a distinct part of the charm surrounding cursed images, the allure is different for everyone, and not strictly confined to a single factor.

John Fio, a 28-year-old explained via Twitter DM that what he likes most about accounts like @cursedimages and @scarytoilet is that "they evoke two eras" of the internet: pre-internet and early-internet.

“Because of the washed-out flash photography, old furniture, and wallpaper you often see, and grainy film quality which obscures the image in fun ways,” many of the images take Fio back to a time before the internet even existed. But sometimes he recognizes images shared on the cursed account from posts in the early 2000s, so they serve as fun throwback posts.

Meanwhile, Lala, a 33-year-old cursed content connoisseur, appreciates the fact that the images make her think.

"I think it's appealing because it speaks to the part of our brains that usually can only begin to imagine the kind of 'horrors' you see there, but they’re real!" Lala said over Twitter DM. "Some are funny, and some are truly disgusting, but most are something we'd never conceptualize in our own imaginations. Like if you asked me to make up a cursed image I think it’d be hard, you just know it when you see it. Almost like a Schrödinger’s cat type thing."

For Zoë, a 28-year-old fan of @cursedimages_2 and @scarytoilet, they feel cursed content "appeals to an organic aesthetic" they've had all their life.

"I grew up in a small town in the Rust Belt and spent most of my free time as a kid playing in old ruined buildings and finding weird shit at thrift stores,"  Zoë explained. "I think these things are very much art projects in a way and i think they began to appeal to a wider audience because of the cultural moment we're at in America and around the world, where it kind of seems like everything is falling apart... and 'cursed content' is kind of a sick, gallows take on consumerism in many ways."

How cursed is too cursed?

While they're far from the darkest spaces on the internet, cursed images and the accounts that share them can be seen as inappropriate to some. The creators are fully committed to posting all things weird and mind-boggling, but on occasion even they encounter lines they don't feel should be crossed. With great horror comes great responsibility.

"There are a lot of 'dark' stock photos that are just matter-of-fact portrayals of really horrible stuff. For example, there's an inordinate amount of images depicting violence against women on these sites. And there's nothing funny about it, so I avoid it," Kelly explained. "To make it on the Twitter feed, an image needs to have something surreal or absurd about it. A touch of the preposterous. And I do like that whenever I post an image that is more dark for the sake of dark, it gets a lot fewer RTs than the others. The readers of Dark Stock Photos are surprisingly discerning."

cursed image 1118 pic.twitter.com/9rOAzrk7r9

— cursed images (@cursedimages_2) November 22, 2018

Sarah of @cursedimages_2 agrees, noting she tries not to post any images that depict "someone getting seriously hurt" or "intentionally hurting an animal."

"There are always gray areas, but the bad ones are usually pretty obvious. In other cases, every once in a while the cringe factor may just be too strong. If I’m on the fence, I’ll text my sister with an image and ask 'too cursed?'" Beyond that, Sarah explained she's also against posting anything that's been Photoshopped because if it's not a real life situation it's not really that cursed. 

The question of crediting images

Aside from a few careful considerations, owners of cursed accounts can pretty much post whatever they like, whenever they like. It sounds like a pretty sweet gig, but there was one concern that came up when talking to fans.

While @darkstockphotos often screenshots watermarked photography from websites, occasionally including some way to track down the original image, many cursed accounts seem to curate photos from the web without giving the original creators proper credit.

"I think that since a lot of the images are stolen... there is an interesting contextual question there about whether these accounts are ethical," Zoë said.

When the original @cursedimages was active it appears an @uncursedimages account attempted to provide attributions to as many of the cursed posts as possible. But nowadays, as most messages are sent from fans, or sourced from message board, the process of properly crediting has fallen by the wayside, which, if you ask me, sounds a bit cursed in its own way.

It's possible that in certain cases the sources of these images are intentionally hidden to protect the people in them or those who posted them, but in Phil's case, the choice not to credit images was a personal one he made when the Toilets With Threatening Auras Facebook page started to gain popularity.

"I used to give credit when some wanted, but I started getting others claiming that they took the photo and it became a bit of mess actually trying to authenticate who the pictures are really taken by," Phil said.

While he has taken several photos down after people called him out for not crediting them, he noted that "most of the time there is little complaint."

As for Kelly, he does his best to include some nod to each image's origin in his tweets. "I'm personally very sensitive to stuff being stolen and re-shared without credit online, so if I felt like Dark Stock Photos was crossing the line in that regard, I wouldn't do it," he said.

Kelly also noted the fact that he makes no money from the Twitter account, and that before making his Dark Stock Photos book, his publisher was sure to purchase licenses for around 100 images they included.

"Of course, if one of the photographers complained I'd take it down straight away," Kelly assured us. "But that hasn't happened yet."

Finding light in the darkness

Ultimately, cursed images are meant to challenge people to look beyond the often hideous exterior and find the humor within. Sure, sometimes the images are fucked up, but they’re fucked up in the best way.

We assume the majority of these cursed images aren’t being shared maliciously, which helps us justify laughing at them. And though the issues most dark stock photos attempt to visually portray are real and serious, we know the photographs are staged and the models aren't in any real peril. 

For those reasons, we allow ourselves to enjoy these incredibly fucked up images with the same grotesque delight we feel when watching Dr. Pimple Popper make pus volcanically erupt or a rat drag a slice of pizza across the floor of a dirty New York subway station.

The accounts are definitely not for everyone, but if think you might be able to find even an ounce of joy from looking at a cursed image through the comfort of your computer or phone screen, give it a shot.

WATCH: Ariana Grande's tattoo flub continues to get roasted in hilarious internet meme — All the Memes

Stock image credits:

[Weird rock twins: DonNichols/Getty Images][Spaghetti twins: harpazo_hope/Getty Images]

[health-andfitnessinfo]

[health-andfitness]-Real talk: Is cheese actually healthy?

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There are some foods that virtually every doctor and dietitian deem unhealthy (ahem, French fries). But other foods fall into more of a gray area, like rice, soy, and, most importantly, cheese. Is it possible to live your healthiest life ever without cutting ties with it?

Well, don’t loosen the grip on your beloved hunk of cheddar just yet. “Cheese can absolutely fit into a healthy diet,” says registered dietitian Desiree Nielsen, RD. But not all cheeses are created equal when it comes to their nutritional value, she says. Keep reading to find out the 6 healthiest cheeses you can eat, plus tips on how to know if a cheese is truly good for you.

Scroll down for three tips on determining if a cheese is nutritious or not, and see the top healthiest ones.

Photo: Getty Images/ Granger Wootz

1. Consider the ingredients

Just like with every other food at the supermarket, ingredient quality matters. “You want to look for a cheese made from pure milk,” Nielsen says. And that’s not necessarily a no-brainer: A lot of processed cheeses contain not-so great ingredients like artificial food colorings, saturated vegetable oils, sorbic acid (a preservative) and extra salt. As a general rule, Nielsen says the ingredients list should be as simple and clean as possible.

If it’s available to you and your budget allows, Nielsen recommends choosing grass-fed, hormone- and antibiotic-free cheeses. “This should be on the label as cheese suppliers know it’s something consumers are looking for,” she says. “Another way to tell is in the ingredients list; it will usually say ‘hormone-free milk.’”

As for cow vs. goat vs. sheep cheeses…Nielsen says one isn’t exactly “healthier” than the others, but there is some scientific evidence showing that sheep and goat cheese can be easier to digest if you have a lactose sensitivity. “Some people who are lactose intolerant are sensitive to the A1 protein type that occurs in cow’s milk,” she says, which doesn’t occur in sheep or goat milk.

2. Choose a flavorful cheese

Nielsen’s second big tip for choosing a healthy cheese is to go for one with a lot of flavor. “When you choose something like goat cheese, feta, or Parmigiano Reggiano, you get that flavorful hit, so you end up using a lot less of it,” she says. “Having a little cheese is healthy because of the vitamin D, calcium, and protein,” she says. But add a cup of it to every meal, she adds, and the saturated fat content will start to outweigh those benefits.

That said, Nielsen says it’s still best to go for a full-fat cheese over a low-fat cheese because it will be more satiating and you’ll end up eating less. “My advice is to go for full-fat and full-flavor, and simply use less,” she says.

Nielsen also points out that not all the fat in cheese is bad. It also contains unsaturated fat, which plays an important role in the body. “In addition to carrying flavor, fat also helps you absorb fat soluble nutrients,” she says. “Many vital chemicals in different vegetables and other plant foods are actually fat soluble nutrients, so we need some fat in our meals and cheese can play that role for us.”

3. Pick something a little older

The last major factor Nielsen says to pay attention to is the fermentation process. “The longer it’s fermented, the more the lactose is broken down and the casein is broken down by the microbes,” she says. This means it will be easier to digest, and there will contain more good bacteria. “The fermentation process also increases the B vitamins in cheese,” she says. Plus, Nielsen says a one-year old cheese, for example, is a lot more flavorful than one that isn’t aged (so you’re getting two birds with one stone). Pro tip: Look for the term “Aged” on the label to know you’re getting something, well, a bit older.

Photo: Getty Images/ Anna Kurzaeva

The top healthiest cheeses

Okay, so now you’re armed with some tips for choosing the most nutrient-dense cheese. But which ones make Nielsen’s short list of the best ones to add to your diet? Here, she reveals her top picks:

For everyday use: cottage and ricotta cheeses

“Cottage cheese and ricotta cheese are both good everyday cheeses because of their high protein content,” she says. A half-cup of cottage cheese has about 12 grams of protein, while a half-cup of ricotta clocks in at 9 grams. “These two cheeses in particular are protein-forward, as opposed to fat-forward,” she says.

Cottage cheese is particularly to eat for breakfast with fruit and a drizzle of honey. Ricotta also pairs well with fruit and honey, but you can also add it to any veggie-based dish to give it a creamier, richer texture.

To add flavor to a dish: cheddar, Parmigiano Reggiano, goat cheese, and pecorino

If you’re looking for a cheese to add some punch to your dinner, Nielsen says these cheeses are all great because it doesn’t take a very big serving to add a lot of flavor. “All of these cheeses are also high in calcium,” she says. Other benefits you’ll get: protein and unsaturated fat.

All four of these cheeses pair particularly well with vegetable-based dishes, from zucchini noodles and baked dishes to on top of salads.

You definitely don’t have to kiss all your favorite cheesy dishes goodbye to live your healthiest life ever. The key is to go for quality and full-flavor. And the best part is, it will taste better that way, too!

Vegan cheese can also have a place in a healthy diet. And this cheese grating hack will seriously transform the way you cook.

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(This is your website for good health and fitness. News, tips, menus and everything you want to get for a better life quality.)

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