#multiple affairs

[coldbycrossfade]

MAN THAT REALLY COLORS THIS RESPONSE IN THIS CONVERSATION SO DIFFERENTLY FOR ME

[bigmoon-is-bigwife]

I actually think TR!Tango is on such thin ice with Ros and his constant jabs at her. He intends them as jokes but there are so many times today where they did not land with Ros. There's obviously the one during the event where Sneeg and Clown immediately jumped to her defense but in even later afterwards he continued to make jokes and rile her up. Ros even went to Foolish about it after he made a joke about her making the walls and Foolish waved it off by saying Tango couldn't have known Owen made them (which, fair, he did not) but it actually upset Ros to not have her building skills and work on the castle recognized.

Building is like the one thing Ros takes pride in. She is so horribly insecure in nearly everything else, but building is her comfort zone. So for someone to not acknowledge her work and consistently tease her about it really made her frustrated and she even had to walk away and calm down. Interestingly enough, when Tango made a joke about the newspaper saying Ros doesn't have a backbone she very calmly told him that it was false and that people lie. This is something Tango and many others have teased her about in the past but this time she is finally standing up for herself. Ros is not the same person as she was when Tango left and I think he's going to find that out real quick.

[aropride]

ive been trying to paint an orange for hours now and im too scared to be more dramatic with the colors which is the main problem i know i need to get crazy with it so it stops looking so flat but that's scaryyyyy

[robronrewatch]

we really don’t talk enough about aaron standing up to his uncle to protect robert…. the bloke he’s madly in love with but isn’t even sleeping with during this point, may i add, who’s trying to ruin his best mates wedding vs the uncle who he looks up to…. and he’s almost SICK and is literally flinching at cain beating robert up. robert whos lets be real deserves everything he got…. he then goes against the dingle code and family loyalty and wades in to save robert knowing cains gonna be gunning for him….. because even though he fucking hates robert, he loves him more anything and anyone and he would do anything for him

[what-have-i-unleashed]

inspired by both mermaid-coded dust and this flavor of doomed kist

i'm mashing my two toxic tragic kist posts into one and here's what comes of it i guess... extremely jumbled thoughts

(cw: toxic one-sided relationship, obsession, suicidal ideation)

so dust is in love with killer, but he cannot say it. not because he's mute - he is - but because he doesn't want either killer or nightmare to know. it's a weakness, easily exploitable. so dust keeps it close to his soul, learning to mask his emotions like killer does. everything is fine, really. if he thinks about it hard enough, he gets to see and interact with killer almost every day. he knows killer doesn't have eyes for anyone else. it makes the pain in his soul somewhat more bearable. he can only watch his light in silence, unable to say the words, but at least this closeness to killer is what only he can have.

and he treasures the little moments he has with killer. when killer is exhausted and falls asleep, dust has the opportunity to engrave every detail of killer's face to his mind, every curve, every angle, every edge. every time killer laughs with joy and glee, dust perks up at that. every time killer is injured and dust has to take care of him, he takes note of how light killer is leaning on his shoulders - he takes note of the scars and cracks running on the bones of the person he has to bandage and heal over. what he can do, again and again, is remember. what he has is memory, and he intends to protect and hold close every piece of it.

everything is fine. until it isn't.

killer disappears one day without a trace. nightmare rages while his minions hurry to hide away from his wrath. yet dust remains in killer's lifeless room, hands tracing every surface of the furniture there. the room is nondescript, lacking any personality - the only sign that this is killer's room is his collection of souls and dust on the shelf. and yet, killer didn't take them with him when he disappears.

maybe he's dead, a part of dust whispers in defeat.

do you really think so, another part scoffs in disbelief.

it doesn't matter either way. dust relocates his room to killer's. nightmare doesn't care, but horror and cross do send dust some looks when he announces it. it doesn't matter - his feelings for killer are useless now, it's like mourning for something that never was. all he has left of killer are the memories.

and one day, on a mission nightmare sends him to, dust sees a familiar face again. he does a double take, unable to believe what's happening in front of his eyes. it's killer, and not just any - it's his killer. he would recognize that face anywhere. and killer is happy, genuinely so. in such a way that dust never sees before. he's with someone dust can't recognize, holding hands, leaning in with such comfort. he's happy.

and dust.

dust is...

he's...

he's...

you don't know how you feel. because the next thing you know, nightmare is there, his face sporting an gleeful expression only reserved for his unfortunate victims.

ah dust, good work finding the traitor, you hear nightmare say. but nothing is right. nothing about this is right.

killer can't be here, happy with someone else. killer is supposed to be his light out of the deep dark below where he belongs.

you should kill him, your brother says. you should have killed him a long time ago, when he pulled you out of our universe.

don't you miss home, brother?

don't you miss us?

you've hidden your feelings for everything for so long that they're burning you inside out. at this pace, you'll die - if not of a broken soul, then of your own destructive magic.

there's only one way to cure a broken soul. you know it, right?

and you're staring down at killer, your hands around his throat. you'd make him drown in his own blood. and you'd lean close, just close enough that you can almost give him the kiss of death. and you'd have turned yourself and him to your false namesake by the time the sun rises on the horizon.

but you hesitate. because you love him. you love him so much it's killing you alive. and you can't bear to die in a world without him.

and so you let him go. you watch him slip away from your hands, swept away by the new wave of his life.

time stays frozen for a moment before you feel your skull crack on the pavement. something grabs you by the leg and swings you harshly to the other side of the road. if you had a voice to laugh, you would. you spit blood, feeling strangely relieved. this is the price to pay to see killer again. how familiar. it's like everything is making sense again.

"don't think i didn't see what you did back there, dust," nightmare growls at you, holding your pathetic body up in the air by your (probably broken) shoulder. "you let him get away." the pain is excruciating, but it can't extinguish the elation in your (disgusting) soul.

i want to see him again, you mouth to an audience of no one.

you're crazy, your brother chides you. you'll choose him over me? over us?

you don't reply to your brother. you get dropped onto the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. nightmare looms over you, tentacles swishing back and forth dangerously, as you hold your (worthless) soul to him. a deal with a devil. you don't have anything else to offer anyway.

you don't care what happens to you, as long as you can see killer again. you watch impassively as the dark tentacles poise over your soul, a wave of apathy washed over you. only determination remains, its red glow cracking over your fragile soul.

you will see killer again.

if you can't have him, then no one can.

[wilsonsmcgillsweatshirt]

Everybody lies but especially Wilson. That man cannot tell the truth to save his life

[afurtivecake]

Hey hey hey! So are there plans to write kevin/ichirou? Cause I am now very much hooked based off your post. It was delicious and not nearly enough. Any more ideas kicking around?

Oy oy oy! thank you so much gnat! glad to hear you're enjoying it!

my brain can probably be tricked into writing kevin/ichirou if i tell it i'm not doing it and it's beneath me or something, the contrary bastard.

as for other ideas... ok, see, i was having a think about the whole thing from ichirou's perspective and asking myself what does ichirou see in all of this?

ichirou's all about the ruthless pragmatism. no time or energy for feelings about things he doesn't need to care about. the only time he can truly say he felt something was when he was watching nathan wesninski torture and kill people for his father. (ichirou tells neil that his father meant something to him, and i like to think he genuinely meant it.) seeing nathan work, watching him pull genuine emotions, like fear, agony and hopelessness, out of people was something that spoke to him. (maybe young ichirou even had a wee crush on his father's good-looking right-hand man that he firmly quashed and convinced himself was just admiration for his craft) and it's that sort of feeling that he's chasing when he's playing around with kevin.

(both brothers are butcher-fanboys is a hill i'd be willing to die on.)

ichirou is a privileged asshole and he doesn't actually like physically torturing people himself because it's kind of icky and he's got people for that. when he plays around with knives or guns, it's truly just a game, a fetish, for him. he just wants the satisfaction of seeing people break without having to exert himself with doing actual violence.

kevin and ichirou have a lot in common: in public, they're both fake as fuck because their public image is their livelihood. and once ichirou realizes that kevin is just as fake as him, it becomes a game to make kevin break composure. he likes playing mind games of dominance because he figures out that's what kevin responds best to.

maybe after one disappointing fuck, ichirou decides he's wasting his time. he loses patience and slightly snaps at kevin with a cold dismissal. unexpectedly, that strikes a nerve and kevin is suddenly carefully getting on his knees, admitting his mistake and asking for forgiveness or punishment as ichirou sees fit. and in a throwaway comment, ichirou says, "at least that useless waste of money and of my family name managed to teach you to do something right." and that's where he realizes he's struck gold. kevin's hands are trembling and he's clearly trying to breathe through a panic attack. slowly ichirou starts to figure out that kevin still has a lot of hang-ups about riko and tetsuji. with the right kind of pushing, he can get a lot of reactions out of kevin and make him do a lot of things and allow a lot of things to be done to him.

poor kevin has been working really hard to undo the habits that he's been trained into under tetsuji and riko, but ichirou's gleefully trying to bring it all back. and he's not fighting it as hard as he knows he should. he tells himself it's because he has no choice, and not because he's weak to physical pleasure - especially physical pleasure that comes on the heels of emotional catharsis.

[firelise]

Say what u will about Affair but I’m still thinking about the fact that they had sex, Pleng came, and immediately she turned around for round two electric boogaloo reverse reverse. Most lesbian thing I’ve ever seen, no breaks.

[un-pearable]

“the one who causes all the problems (stan) and the one who faces the consequences (ford)” uh. did we watch different shows or did you just fall for ford’s ego

[thelordofblades]

white men will be like “i love a fiery woman” and then scoop up the brightest most capable brown women and drag them to the usa and make them stay at home as their personal handmaidens and wear them down until there’s nothing left for themselves and not understand why their wife who has been begging to be seen as a person is saying anything at all when they prefer her silent and compliant. and then get a divorce and rant about their bitch ex wives while touting around their (new and younger) arm candy of the same fucking ethnicity

[chaotic-neutral-knitter]

my wife's boss is the kind of person who brags about overworking and L finds that sort of hustle culture very annoying and refuses to reward it, which means apparently this week they had a conversation that went like this.

boss: yesterday when I came home my husband was like "you still live here??" haha because I'm always at work! L: oh :( that's sad :( boss: ... boss: ??? boss: ... boss: [goes away and talks to someone else]

[themostdearofspaghettis]

Thinking about Midnight Burger on this fine Monday

[socratesgirlnextdoor]

what's really crazy is that buffy and spike's affair lasted a little under SEVEN episodes. buffy and riley were together for a whole season and it felt shorter than the time between smashed 6x9 to as you were 6x15

[high-infidelity-series]

Illicit Affairs - Chapter 5

Before this year, Persephone has always felt like the time passes slowly in the Mortal Realm. She’s always crossed off the days on her calendar as they pass, counting the minutes and indeed the seconds until she can return to the Underworld.

This year, she blinks once, and another month has gone by. She’s thrown herself into work to avoid thinking of anything that’s going on as much as possible, and before she knows it, she’s more than two-thirds of the way through her yearly tenure as Goddess of Spring.

It’s…bizarre. She’d forgotten just how interesting this part of the world could be, with its ephemeral beauties, its quiet growth, the relaxed culture surrounding daily life. When she was a girl, she’d wanted nothing more than to escape this backwoods existence to the big city; now, she’d trade anything to stay.

One morning, Demeter takes her aside. “Are you well, my dear? The nymphs have been saying you seem listless, and that you often complain of headaches.”

Persephone figures she can’t put off this reveal for much longer, so she might as well be honest. “I’ll admit, the first trimester is always rough, but I’m holding out pretty well.”

Demeter’s eyes grow wide. “Did you say…are you…?”

Persephone smiles and nods, then braces as she is hugged ecstatically and kissed all over her cheeks and nose.

“How wonderful, we must have a celebration! Have you told Hades yet?”

“No…I was waiting until the twelfth week, to be sure. We had so many troubles conceiving Macaria, I didn’t want to get his hopes up.”

“That seems wise,” her mother agrees. “But don’t put it off too long! It will be better if he hears it from you.”

“You have a good point,” Persephone concedes, and then…something prompts her to look Demeter in the eye. “Mom, I…I wanted to say that I’m sorry, for the way I treated you back when I was going to Olympus for college. You were right about…so many things, and you did so much to protect me that I never appreciated enough.”

Demeter’s eyes practically boggle out of her head. “Oh wow, you really must be pregnant. There’s no need to apologize, dear,” she says, wiping away a tear on her daughter’s cheek…Persephone hadn’t noticed when it fell. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s water under the bridge. What we need to do is make sure you’re safe and taken care of right now.”

“…Thanks, Mom.”

***

She tells Hades the news over a Skype call.

He is ecstatic, as expected. He says he wants to visit her right now, but Theseus managed to get the shade union to vote for a strike, so he can’t part with enough time to see her, even by teleporting to her. She says it’s fine, because…frankly she’s not sure if her guilt won’t override her common sense and make her confess it’s not his baby if she sees him right now.

She hangs up the call, sits there, and misses Zeus.

***

Three nights later, she awakens to a hammering at her door. “PERSEPHONE! WAKE UP, WE NEED YOUR HELP!!”

That’s Ares’ voice; she hasn’t ever heard him scream as urgently. Thinking this has something to do with his and Minthe’s baby, she’s out of her bed before she’s even fully awake, answering the door barefoot and in her nightgown. Ares points to his right before she can ask anything; Persephone follows his direction, and meets eyes with Minthe…and then with Echo, who is practically hanging off of Minthe’s shoulder.

Oh fuck, that’s a lot of ichor.

“Get her in the kitchen, NOW.”

Ares scoops the deep blue nymph up into his arms and rushes to obey. Minthe follows after him, her long red hair trailing after her. “Shouldn’t we lay her down?” she asks in a panic as Ares sits Echo in one of Persephone’s dining chairs.

“She’s in shock; if she lays down, she might choke on the ichor.” Ares pulls another chair over to put under Echo’s feet. “Are there any blankets we can use…?”

“Linen closet’s in the hallway on the right.” Persephone kneels to examine Echo’s mouth, which is bleeding so profusely that her neck and chest are drenched bright gold. “It’s okay, Echo, I’m just going to open your mouth…”

Persephone bites the inside of her lip at what she sees, cursing inwardly. Echo’s tongue has been cut out.

“Minthe, get Eris on the phone.”

The red nymph jumps to comply. Ares returns at that moment with a pink comforter, which he drapes over Echo’s shoulders.

“You’re calling Eris?”

“To cauterize the wound,” Persephone says, as a displacement of air in the living room announces Eris’ arrival.

“But you’re a Fertility Goddess…can’t you do that yourself?”

“At any other time, yes, but…”

“I heard cauterization!” Eris ignites her fingers. “Stand back!”

Persephone dodges as the goddess of chaos alights Echo’s mouth with a white-hot flame. Once the bleeding stops, Persephone is able to convince Echo’s spleen and bone marrow to work a bit of overtime replacing the ichor she’s lost. But, as soon as she tries to move from where she kneels on the floor, her stomach reels, and it’s all Persephone can do to keep from vomiting.

“Percy, are you…”

“Bucket, bottom cabinet, now!”

Ares returns with a flat bucket that Persephone usually uses as a dish-rack; as soon as it’s under her mouth, she retches up a stomachful of bile.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to lie down?” Ares asks later, after they have Echo cleaned up and tucked into Persephone’s bed, while Persephone settles into the easy chair she keeps in the bedroom for when she needs to read at night.

“I’m fine,” she replies. “I just need to sit for a few moments.”

Eris narrows her eyes. “You’ve never puked like that before at the sight of blood…are you okay?”

“I’m fine, it’s just…”

Minthe’s green eyes widen. “…morning sickness.”

Persephone stares at her. “Well, yes, but…how the hell did you figure that out? All I did was puke…”

“You’re also lactating all over your nightgown.”

“…crap.”

Ares seizes the pink comforter and hands it to Persephone, and she immediately covers the wet blotches on her nightgown. Eris beams at her. “Another little cousin on the way, huh? Are you going to let me bless this one with wrath?”

Persephone, Minthe, and Ares all glare at her. “NO!” they yell in the same instant.

“Ah, come on,” the bald bird-woman wheedles. “I’m sure your little beans are going to be plenty angry, bro, but Percy’s kids need a little bit of flare to survive the Underworld…”

“NO!!!”

Eris pouts. “None of you are any fun.”

“…wait…beans? As in, plural?”

Minthe sighs, rubbing her own stomach. “Twin boys, apparently…sharpshooter here outdid himself.” Ares smirks proudly and allows his shoulder to be gently whacked.

Persephone practically feels her own face lighting up with joy, and she smells the catmint that starts to sprout from her own hair as it falls to her shoulders. “Congratulations! I know it’s…hard to believe, coming from me, but…I really am happy for you.”

Minthe’s long ears prick forward as she studies Persephone for any hint of dishonesty. After a moment, she smiles wanly. “…Thanks, I guess. I’m terrified out of my mind, but…”

“…but, she’s already a mom, and a fantastic one at that,” Ares finishes, grinning down at her. “So I’m not worried at all.”

Eris gags. “Okay, I’m too asexual for all this mushy bullshit. I’m going home…call me if you need anything else burned.”

“Thank you!” Persephone calls after her, receiving a casual wave in reply.

Ares yawns as suddenly as a cat would. “Ah man…it has been a night,” he says. “Would it be okay if I just rest my eyes a little bit?”

“By all means.”

“Mmmkay.” He lies on his side at the foot of Persephone’s bed, and in an instant he is softly snoring.

Minthe shakes her head, fondly running her fingers through Ares’s short, white-blond curls. “Damn, I wish I could do that.”

“Tell me about it.”

Persephone gazes back up at Echo, who sleeps peacefully now that she’s out of the danger zone. “Who would do something like that? Echo’s…probably the only decent person in this messed-up family. Who would even want to hurt her?”

Minthe’s eyes narrow, and she takes out her phone and taps on it for a few minutes…and then blanches, her long hair suddenly growing muddy.

“What is it?”

“…I shouldn’t show you this. You’re…”

“So are you.”

“I…already knew about this, but it was still a bit of a shock…”

“Minthe, I am a Fertility Goddess, and I am sitting down. Show me. I think I can handle it.”

The red nymph reluctantly passes her the phone, which Persephone sees is open to the main webpage of the Weekly Nark. There, front and center, is the security footage from the confrontation in Zeus’s office last month.

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[rogers-attic]

i like how the american dad fandom collectively headcanons that roger had terrible, ab//sive parents back on his home planet

like take a look at this goofy alien guy: hes an alc//h//lic, he has traits of a multiple personality disorder, hes an addict, he has very clear abandonment issues and went on a family bender, he smokes; all those things right there are DEFINITELY trauma responses like he clearly has LOTS of trauma he isnt properly dealing with

he even keeps his dad in the smiths freezer and takes a bite of it every year on his bday for gods sake like he aint right in the head

[lululeighsworld]

24 HOURS UNTIL EPISODE 1 OF GREEN WITCH ARC ANIME AIRS