#this is fucking disgusting and disturbing

[karikarasuno]

you're law's neighbor. well you and your boyfriend. who is currently stuffing the clothes you're throwing outside of your open door and into the lawn into his car. law pauses in his driveway. he's tired after a long shift at the hospital. he's been standing for the last twelve hours. he just wants to shower, stuff his face with whatever he has meal prepped in his fridge, and knock out in his bed for the next sixteen hours.

he's exhausted. but it seems like the only person having a more tiresome day than him is you. now you're throwing shoes out the door. expensive ones at that.

"i never wanna see you again, you disgusting fucking pig!" the last shoe you throw bounces off your boyfriend's open car door and knocks him straight in the head.

"i don't see why you have to act so crazy right now! it's not like i fucked the girl!" law winces. he's scared to get out of his car. he has one foot on the pavement, but he's seriously considering placing it back in his car and driving away.

except he wants to go home. he could always make a run for it, but the rage that's emanating off of you is enough to send shivers down his own spine. he stays put.

"oh, right, but sending her videos of you jacking off is so much better?!"

law inhales sharply and averts his eyes. yikes.

"it wasn't even that serious, i swear, babe. it meant nothing!"

law pinches the bridge of his nose. if only he could have been home an hour earlier like he was supposed to be. instead he was meant to sit here and suffer. while witnessing your suffering as well.

"to you, kid! it meant nothing to you," your voice cracks. law's chest twinges at the sound. he feels bad. "but obviously it meant something to me."

"can we just talk about this?" he pleads. it's a pitiful sight, really.

"no. clearly you're resourceful enough to find a new bitch, now why don't you find a therapist too if you wanna talk so fucking bad."

"don't be like that," said boyfriend, probably ex now, responds. "this isn't you."

you laugh. the sound is bone chilling. law is so close to being inside his home, he yearns for it so badly, but he cannot bring himself to move.

"you're right," you throw your hands up, defeated. annoyed. "this isn't me. but maybe if you weren't a cheating asshole the me you supposedly 'loved' would still be here. unfortunately for you, this is who you get and if you don't leave in the next five seconds i will absolutely take a fucking bat to your windshield!"

both your ex-boyfriend and law know you're being serious. the threat has so much anger within it that only a fool would think it's empty. so law isn't surprised when he hops into his car and speeds off. he's relieved actually.

you're still standing in your front yard when law finally exits his car. he sees the heavy rise and fall of your breaths. your hands are shaking. he's trying to make himself as small as possible. as not to disturb this already very awkward and delicate situation, but when you hear the closing of his car door, your head whips around to look at him.

he's frozen in place. your eyes are red and puffy. clearly, you've been crying. and you look as exhausted as he feels.

"men suck," you say, catching him completely off guard, before turning and slamming your front door behind you.

****

the next time law sees you, you're carrying boxes outside of your house. his stomach turns at the sight. purely because he hates the idea of getting used to a new neighbor. law enjoys familiarity. and you're familiar.

but as he's walking towards his car to head to work for the night, he sees someone else exit your home. law hates that he's so nosey because his steps slow enough to eye the man discreetly. he's got long blonde hair and is wearing a black medical mask. odd.

"thanks for picking up his shit, killer," you say with a huff as you toss the boxes into the back of the pick up truck that's parked diagonally across your driveway. really odd.

"for what its worth, kid hates that he hurt you," killer says, voice showing real sincerity. but you let out a sardonic laugh, hand dismissing the statement as you roll your eyes.

"trust me, the fifty phone calls makes that clear. but i'm done. you can't come back from that type of shit with me. there's no point if i can't trust him again."

killer (the name is scarily fitting) merely shrugs, "yeah, you've got a point. see you around, i guess."

"doubt it, but thanks again," you wave as you walk back up your driveway. you don't seem as devastated. it's been a few weeks. and the depth of sadness he would've expected to be hovering around you isn't as evident.

law unlocks his car. it beeps catching your attention. he can tell you want to say something, but he doesn't know if he should break the ice first. so instead the two of you stare at each other for a second longer than feels comfortable.

"sorry about the other day," you ending up saying in a hurry. just as he was about to turn away from you.

"what?" he asks, more so surprised by the fact that you're apologizing. to him.

"you know, the screaming and the throwing and the general bad vibes i'm sure i was putting out," you explain, awkwardly, but in a weirdly cute way.

"it's fine, really," he fumbles with his car keys, not really mentally prepared to be having a conversation. "no need to apologize."

"yeah, but i'm still sorry," you smile sheepishly, your hands running down the seam of your jeans.

"well, i forgive you?" his own face scrunches at his words. icky embarrassment filling his cheeks with heat.

you laugh though, not the same one as earlier. this one is mostly breath, barely a hum of amusement, as you give him the smallest of smiles. "i appreciate it."

****

you got a dog. he doesn't know when since his schedule has been a nightmare. but you got a dog, and a large one at that.

he's working in his garage on his blessed day off trying to change his oil before the sunsets when he hears your voice before he sees you.

"woah, your garage is so clean," you say in awe, your voice dreamy and slowed. when he turns to see you he doesn't expect to see the large brown dog wagging its tail enthusiastically at him.

"yeah, i'm not a fan of mess," he says, unsure of what else to even say.

"most people aren't, but this is like impressively clean. and of course you have a home gym," you respond, pointing at his tidy workout corner. "i mean you don't even wanna see the state of mine."

"it can't be that bad," he says to placate you, offering some type of reassurance.

"no, it's probably worse than you can imagine," you shake your head, the apples of your cheeks rounding as you smile at him.

"now you're scaring me," he teases, using a rag to clean oil off his hands. and you laugh again. this one different than any he's seen from you. it's bright and giggly as you drop your head and cover your mouth with a hand.

"you should be scared," you nod, your smile growing. but before he can respond your dog barks, perhaps for attention.

"oh, this is chopper," you introduce, " he looks scarier than he is, but he's the biggest baby."

he walks towards you, directly into the orange glow of the setting sun. he holds out a hand for chopper to sniff, "nice to meet you, chopper."

chopper licks him. "chopper says its nice to meet you too."

that makes a corner of law's lips lift. you're silly. he would've never guessed.

"and you are?" he asks, realizing rather belatedly that he doesn't know your name.

your head tilts with the same realization, "oh, you're right. i don't know your name either."

"i'm law," he says, holding out a hand before seeing that it's still stained black with oil and retracting it.

you say your name in return. the syllables running off your tongue familiarly. and he repeats it. he likes your name. it's pretty. it's fitting.

[nevertheless-moving]

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE DEMON OF YUNMENG

Chapter One/ AU Masterlist — Chapter Ten

Holy FUCK my pants are disgusting. 

It was an unpleasant thought to wake up to. But it was an even more unpleasant sensation.

Setting that aside for the time being, Wei Wuxian forced himself to his hands and knees, arching outward and inward to crack his back into something resembling normal shape. A vision assaulted him — Lan Zhan returning to the tent and catching him in this position. He had to stuff a fist into his mouth to hold back laughter at the following mental image of Hunguang-Jun mounting a clothed man and humping him like a beast until completion. 

Holy shit, he actually would, wouldn’t he? He would for sure be into that.

Wei Wuxian shook his head, refocusing. After a few more stretches, he began the painstaking process of peeling off his pants, wincing where it pulled at sensitive skin and hair. He did his best to scrape himself clean, but fucking hell he needed to bathe. Somewhere that Lan Zhan wouldn’t be tempted to look at his dick and inadvertently learn a secret that would require the Demon of Yunmeng to murder the Lightbearing Lord, something said demon really, really didn’t want to do. 

Ha! Even if I go off on his own, can I trust that Lan Zhan won’t follow to sneak a peek? 

The Honored Second Jade of Lan. Unable to resist peeping. He bit back another round of hysterical giggles. 

He hesitated getting dressed; Lan Zhan's pants looked like a decent enough fit — any minor extra length wouldn’t matter once he had boots on. But dried come was literally flaking off him. Not to mention the sweat. Reluctantly, he searched for one of his soiled pants from last night — just something to get him to the nearest stream. To his confusion, he couldn’t find any of his dirty clothing, just the clean Quinquin pouch. 

Annoyed, he pulled on his second to last clean pants and underrobe — way too nice for his current state and location.

“Oi, Lan Zhan!” he said, clamoring out of the tent. “Did you steal my underwear?”

Lan Wangji was pointedly silent.

It took him a moment longer than it should have to realize that the silence was actually not pointed; Lan Zhan simply wasn’t there.

He looked around more thoroughly, discovering that not only was Lan Zhan gone, but also his tent was missing, so that was a little disturbing. But he figured that Lan Zhan must have stolen it alongside his clothing for some currently inscrutable reason.

There was a bowl with a plate over it, resting on a suspiciously flat tree stump which he was fairly sure hadn’t been there yesterday. Lifting the plate revealed a steaming portion of brilliant red congee, along with what looked like two pheasant’s eggs poached on top. 

“What the fuck,” Wei Wuxian said outloud. Again, no one answered, but he did notice a note tucked into a crack in the wood, which he pulled out eagerly.

“River two Li Northeast.”

Wei Wuxian sank to the ground, resting on his heels and pressing the note to his forehead. He tried to imagine Lan Zhan’s line of thought. Did he consider writing something like “I made breakfast,” before discarding it as a waste of words? Or did communicating so frivolously sincerely never even cross his mind? Obviously, Lan Zhan had made spicy congee. And hunted down an egg and delicately cooked it. Who else would have done such a thing?

Quickly, he checked to make sure he hadn’t woken in an elaborate illusory trap.

Nope. 

Lifting the bowl revealed a warming talisman, which he had expected — what he hadn’t expected was for it to be one of his designs. Jiang Cheng had complained that his book of slightly more academic than practical talisman adjustments had barely sold enough copies to be worth the hassle of distribution, but he had also complained about him publishing too much on gui, so. 

He supposed he knew that Gusu Lan had always diligently purchased copies of his cultivation treatises, if only to decry them as heresy from an informed high horse before ritually burning them or whatever they did with such things. He hadn’t thought that Lan Zhan was particularly interested in talismanic arts, but he was a distinguished young master with a properly well rounded education.

Still, it was a little flattering. Really, the spellwork was objectively not worth the time it took to draw, but the food maintained significantly better texture than “standard” warming charms. 

Lacking any better plans, Wei Wuxian ate breakfast. It was pretty good. Not quite spicy enough, but very close. 

Since Lan Zhan hadn’t returned by the time he finished, he made his way to the river, opting to leave everything in the tent as it was because if the river had another under-informative note beside it he was going the fuck back to sleep.

When he finally found Lan Zhan, the man was meditating by the water’s edge, which was normal enough. What was strange was the washboard beside him and the  fabric strung delicately from lines that Lan Zhan must have been carrying around with him. 

No, wait, the lengths of cord aren’t strange — who the fuck carries a washboard around? Aren’t Lan robes spelled to look like that?

“You didn’t actually have to clean my underwear,” Wei Wuxian said, approaching.

“Taking responsibility,” Lan Zhan said, opening his eyes.

Wei Wuxian snorted. “If you say so.”

Lan Wangji rose, frowning at Wei Wuxian’s legs. “Will fetch this morning’s clothing.”

“Lan Zhan you don’t have to —” But he was already moving. Wei Wuxian just barely managed to grab his arm as he passed. “Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji stopped, looking at him. This close, the small height difference between them was a bit more noticeable, if only because Wei Wuxain was fairly unused to tilting his head back to talk with anybody.

“Ah —” he said, briefly distracted, before marshaling his exasperation. “If this is because of, you know, the stuff we did — you really don’t have to. Very willing participant and all that.”

Lan Zhan nodded solemnly.

“Washing my clothes isn’t actually your responsibility. That was a joke.”

“Mn.” 

Wei Wuxian let go, and Lan Zhan continued the way he was walking.

“I —” Wei Wuxian grabbed Lan Zhan again, opened his mouth, then gave up; his dick was too itchy for this conversation. Maybe he likes cleaning? And… stealing bird’s eggs? “Fine, whatever, I’m going to go wash, I've got come practically glueing my legs together — you’re, uh, staying in this section of river, right?”

“Mn.”

He hesitated, but felt the need to ask again. “...You’re sure? No wandering up or downstream from here?”

Lan Wangji lowered his head.

“I mean if you say you won’t, I believe you, of course, just…” he trailed off weakly. 

“Will not dishonor Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji swore, looking up with golden eyes that were WAY too intense considering the frivolity of the subject matter. Unfortunately, that actually was the level of intensity he needed Lan Zhan to bring to the table on this particular promise.

“Right.” Wei Wuxian cleared his throat. Lan Zhan’s face was very close.

Very close.

//

 “I really need to bathe,” Wei Wuxian insisted hoarsely, pulling back from Lan Zhan’s mouth.

Lan Zhan’s throat bobbed as he nodded. His fingers released all at once from Wei Wuxian’s ass, then he disappeared back towards camp in a swirl of white.

Wei Wuxian pressed a hand to his face, allowing himself twenty seconds to just stand there breathing heavily before pushing his way downstream. 

Alright, Lan Zhan has to be the one who’s unusual here, not me, he thought mournfully. He came twice last night and once this morning, same as me! How is he hard again? I mean, I’m not not impressed but seriously! Chafing!

Mind gradually warming up to the day, he resolved not to spend overlong mulling over the cutsleeve stuff between him and Lan Zhan. Based on how the last few days had gone, there were even odds everything would dramatically change between them again by tomorrow morning. In any case, he had bigger things to worry about  — namely the trial that had started all this.

Even with an increasingly credible and scandalously appealing alternate story, there were a hundred different ways it still might come to a fight. And he wouldn’t ask Jiang Cheng to spend sect lives and honor defending him.

It was entirely possible that they were approaching the point where Jin sect would give up on subtlety in their quest to seize the Yin Tiger Tally; they might already be there, if it turned out this whole “conference” was just a trap to lure him into prepared killing grounds.

Unless he chose to run and leave behind this mess entirely — something he couldn’t quite bring himself to do while there was still a slim chance of returning home — he was walking into that tower. Into terrain that the Jin would have ample time to prepare against him.

He whistled idly — a few lost spirits perked up in the distance, but nothing strong enough to be worth the effort of hunting down and trapping. What he really needed was a proper unsanctified mass grave, or a powerful ghoul. 

Ooh, maybe if I finish that tracking tool? Where was I with that? Oh yeah, multiple sensitivities… okay, if i give up on distinguishing between types of resentful energy and just amplify power…

By the time he made it back to camp, he was so lost in his thoughts that he barely greeted Lan Zhan, opting instead to immediately spread out paper on the conveniently flat stump, frantically trying to get his thoughts down before he lost their pattern. He definitely meant to say something to him at some point, but then he had an idea for amplification riding off the connection between iron and dragon lines…

It wasn’t until he finished charming a shaved iron needle floating in a cup of tea that he realized he had no idea where the tea had come from.

Blinking, he looked around. Another crude yet level table had appeared to his right, already covered with paper. Damn, Did I miss Lan Zhan chopping down a tree? Again? He looked around. More tables. Ok, not all stumps — I missed Lan Zhan chopping up a tree. Maybe two. And also carrying the pieces around.

What the actual fuck, he thought, flummoxed. 

Sure, he had gotten into this sort of flow before, but to where he completely ignored his surroundings? Only behind a dozen layers of wards — an actual mo could have walked right up to him and cut his head off for all the attention he had been paying.

He stood, popping his fingers and cracking his back. Lan Zhan wasn’t far, seated on the ground a short walk away. He was doing something with his hands. Grinding ink. 

Wei Wuxian didn’t remember pausing to grind ink. Despite having clearly been writing for hours. And his fingers weren’t peeled open. So he obviously hadn’t absentmindedly started using blood.

His heart did something funny. 

Lan Zhan looked up.

“...I’m finished,” Wei Wuxian said, not sure where to begin with the tea and the tables and the ink  and the pants and the egg. “At least for now. I’ll need to pick up some decent copper for a casing. I guess I could use wood, but it wouldn’t maintain… anyway.”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan put down the inkstone. His fingers were stained black. Wei Wuxian looked down — his own hands were a lot worse, though the black of his robe did a lot to hide mess beyond that.

If we started making out right now it would be incredibly obvious where we grabbed each other, he thought.

“If we started making out right now it would be incredibly obvious where we grabbed each other,” he said.

The whites of Lan Wangji’s eyes ran red even as gold was edged out by black. 

“Wait, you can hold me up with no effort?” Wei Wuxian asked a minute or so later, heels wrapped around Lan Zhan’s back, Lan Zhan’s hands forming a seat with no apparent strain, and apparently enough extra energy to do a fair amount of pinching. 

“Mn,” Lan Wangji confirmed, switching to one hand to show off, which incidentally settled more of Wei Wuxian’s weight onto a few spread out points across his ass.

“Ngh,” Wei Wuxian said, as Lan Zhan used his now free hand to work at a somewhat tangled red hair ribbon. “Wait, I had a point — so tha — aa — at means you didn’t even nEED to pin me against things! You just did it because you wanted to!” 

“Frees my hands,” Lan Zhan argued reasonably.

“Yeah but think about it —” Wei Wuxian said, as Lan Zhan walked them towards the tent. “You didn’t even have to wait until I was up in that tree to tackle me, back at the hunt! You could have just grabbed me and held me up in the air like this.”

Lan Zhan froze. “Shameless!” he hissed through clenched teeth. Down below his cock jumped, nudging at Wei Wuxian’s ass somewhat left of center.

Wei Wuxian cackled. “Oh man! Does that always happen when you call me shameless?! If I had sat in your lap back when I was studying at cloud recesses would we have figured this out a lot sooner?”

Lan Zhan finished pulling the ribbon free, and Wei Wuxian felt his hair fall down on his shoulders.

“Not…always.” 

Wei Wuxian cackled some more.

Did Lan Zhan’s eyes soften? Wait, was that an honest, intentional joke?

“I knew you were funny,” Wei Wuxian crowed, delighted.

//

Yunmeng Zhi Mo sat leaning against a tree, watching with amusement as Hunguang-Jun methodically worked mostly white pants along a washboard. 

“You know you really don’t have to do that.”

“Mn.”

“I mean we’re even on orgasms, aren’t we? I feel like things are pretty fair, as far as that’s concerned.”

“Mn.”

“Lan Zhan, I’m serious,” he said, exasperated. “Grinding my ink — cleaning my clothing— you’ve been acting super weird since we started, you know. Why are you doing all this stuff for me?”

Lan Zhan dunked the cloth in the water. “Want to,” he finally said, not turning around. The back of his ears were pink.

Wei Wuxian sighed heavily, rolling his eyes.

I guess this is what happens when someone that repressed gets to start having orgasms, he thought ruefully. He’ll get over it once the novelty wears off. Probably. 

“Oh!” he said, snapping his fingers. “Did you pack my tent?”

“Mn.”

“Why?”

“...Wanted to be ready to travel.”

“Okay…” he said slowly, eyeing the clothing on the line.

“Dried it first,” Lan Zhan added, misreading the look.

Wei Wuxian blinked. “Dried? What, you actually wasted spiritual energy on that?”

“Not waste. Prevents mold.”

“I —” Wei Wuxian laughed. “Alright, thanks I guess?”

“No need.”

“But you strung up clotheslines for our pants, because…”

“More delicate fabric.”

“Right, sure, but why — you know, whatever, it doesn't matter. How do you feel about detouring a bit towards Xi’an? One of the trade towns that direction should have some decent metals.”

“...Not the way to Carp Tower.”

“How long would it take you to fly us to Lanling, if you went fast? At most it would be a few hours from here, right?”

“Mn.”

“So why bother rushing! Worse comes to worse, we can leave the night before. I don’t want to stay in that snakepit any longer than I have to, and I strongly suspect the feeling is mutual."

Wei Wuxian paused, grimacing at the idea of actually showing up early for this thing.

"I’m not saying we shouldn’t generally move that direction," he added quickly. "To be on the safe side, and its probably not a great idea for us to be spotted flying all over the place together — I think the element of surprise will work best to avoid giving the Jin too much time to prepare —  but, anyway, my point is — wouldn’t you rather spend the next couple weeks enjoying ourselves while we prepare for the shitshow?”

Lan Zhan glanced back, eyes raking up and down Wei Wuxian’s body.

“...Mn.”

Prev (Chapter Ten) MDZS AU Masterlist

[ahrats]

allison’s grief of her daughter leading her to murder viktor’s son-figure and then make him the bad guy for also grieving the loss of a child is genuinely one of the most insane 180 character arcs i’ve seen from a show in years

[vampire-clowns-r-us]

Image ID: A tweet from kate (katespeaks.bsky) @ hotpinkrat that reads: " 'you don't wear a mask in 2024? you just hate disabled people!' and the disability in question is always like EDS or POTS [post trails off into an incomplete link]"

there is also a retweet by the same user that reads: "my doctor friends reaching out like 'thank you for tweeting this omg' I am forever correct and vindicated!!!" End ID

We need to stop pitting hEDS and fibro against rare disabilities bc abled drs are using it to hurt all of us and deny all of us treatment. Fucking stop it

[sweaters-and-vertigo]

EDIT: don’t forget the strike today, april 15!!!!

[aclockworkreader]

I've never read Manacled, but all I hear everyone talking about is how heartbreaking it is (which one would assume if it's based on The handmaids tale...). How does romance even exists in that fic?? I can't bring myself to even skim it when SA has to be a part of it and somehow I'm supossed to root for the ship to get together...

that’s a great question anon, how can romance exist in a fic where the fmc is kidnapped and imprisoned because she is of an “inferior” race and then sold to be sa’d and bred by the mmc who is also actively committing war crimes??

you’d have to ask people who liked it

[skitskatdacat63]

.

[grimalkinmessor]

No because I'm still not over this hE WAS SO SICK FOR THIS

[deadwardiann]

should be considered a form of physiological torture for me, a lesbian, to overhear a group of straight men talk about their girlfriends / women in general…

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

Am I the only one that feels icky about 4halo marriage? Both of them aren’t in their right mind and have both have said before they don’t want a relationship with the other.

Them being married even accidentally would be against what either of them want. I just don’t like to imagine them being in that kind of situation, a fake loveless marriage…

oh yeah you're free to be squicked out by it! I, however, love that dark shit, and will be gleefully and shamelessly enjoying it.

Heads up, btw- please don't send asks like this to anyone else who's enjoying the current arc. I don't know what your intentions were, but this comes across as very judgemental for what is, ultimately, a difference in what we enjoy. you find 4halo fucked up marriage squicky, i find it fun- that's cool. But there's two points to address here. The weaker point, first: canon basis of the ship doesn't matter. 4halo canonically has like. a Thing for each other (bad has said he wants to live with 4ever and skeppy, forever Literally Proposed while high off his ass on happy drugs). but i think codehalo is super fun too and that's NEVERRR going to canonically happen and would be even more fucked up than the current 4halo arc. it's fandom and we do what we want here because these are characters who are not real. and, because they're not real, what they want is Made Up by their creators. by playing in any fandom space you Make Up things about any character you touch, and if I want to Make Up facts about them sharing a bed and putting poison in each other's coffee, that's no worse than cellbit Making Up facts about his character literally eating people. second, MORE IMPORTANTLY so i will say it again: don't shame people for what they enjoy, dude. i hope you're having fun with whatever dynamics you do enjoy, and i wouldn't judge you for whatever they are, even if they're not my cup of tea. I'm really fucking disturbed and disappointed that you'd bring that puritanical bullshit to my inbox. you're not protecting these characters; you're using shaming language to make me, a real person, upset. that's not cool. legit questions i want you to consider for Personal Growth- what is the reason that you sent me this? is it a default disgust response? how do you identify the difference between a squick and something legitimately harmful? are you letting your emotions get in the way of being kind?

[amischiefofmuses]

Send 🫂 to hug my muse and see their reaction! || Accepting

@esinisex sent: 🫂 ( sorry this was funny to me. esinisex @ cable I'm so sorry Nathan )

Tension catches in his entire body at the embrace, just for a moment, barely a blinks worth of time. Then one hand moves up to push him back and gain space as the other, his metal hand, finds his throat and grips viciously. No care taken for damage it might cause. God, his skin is CRAWLING. -- ��What the FUCK are you doing?❞ He snarls the words low in his throat, eye sparking wildly with the simmering irritation. Were he not sure that the man would just- recover, he might truly have tried to break his windpipe before bothering to get an answer. Instead he shoves him backward, though his gaze stays fixed on him intently. Abjectly confused, wary and irritated. Disgusted, even. He's going to need a shower after this. -- ❝Try that again and you're ATOMIZED.❞

[holyshit]

.

[s1mpl3sp0ng3]

roz introduced me to jujutsu kaisen

i am now itadori's #1 fan and i think mahito should be killed with hammers

[issa-pheonyx]

i’ve been noticing some weird shit coming through my feed about people making some incest writings in relations with Leon (ex. Uncle!Leon x Nephew/Niece!Reader) and honestly what the fuck—

it is so dumbfounding how people would defend that as well. like as a ‘coping mechanism’. no, absolutely not. there is no excuse. the only excuse is to seek a therapist (hurr durr i can’t afford it—literally there are healthy habits and methods out there to do, please, you are digging yourself a deeper grave than everybody else). it is just some fetishized content and honestly yall need to get off the phone, turn off the lights—

AND

GO

TO

BED

[godnectar]

The account of death threats he gets I doubt he cares if ppl claim to own him

[mouthfullofmunson]

Tw rant