#OUGHGHGHGHG

[gavinom123]

I JUST FINISHED HOLIDAY STAR. ITS SO JOEVER

[seaside-lovers-archive]

trying to not impulsively add characters as f/os since they usually end up removed in the end bc my crush/infatuation doesn't last (usually based on hyperfixation ive noticed)

but hoo boy am i tempted to add both the dealer and the bracken...

[uriayx]

i have a husband and he hates the AM he hates the PM he hates labels

[sanjiswetcigarettes0]

I write things here like ima grown ass adult but i honestly don’t understand basic jokes on da breakfast table btw

[weaselishmcdiesel]

all i did was eat a twix why is my stomach imploding

[sanjiswetcigarettes0]

THEYRE SO SILLIE I LOVE THEM

It's about the Yearning

[habibisagi]

vagabond manga art style is by far the most gorjus ever like

[caramelmochacrow]

"honey are you ok you're watching the only faraskye animatic on yt and imagining d4dj characters as them..." <- thing i wish my mother would say (not rlly)

[clockmanagement]

Aelia tries reaching for Dante's face to give them a gentle pat.

Dante stills for a good moment, not certain on whether to crouch down (and possibly screw up their back) or to try and pick her up.

They go with crouching down to meet Aelia's level.

"< Ah, if you're curious, little one, I understand. >"

[ultrakillmmmyes]

YO WHAT THE FUCK

Ultratober days 1-3

Favourite soundtrack: Order

[ectonurites]

Byler Week Day 5 — Secret Identities

very loosely interpreting the prompt for today but i've had this idea for a while and... secret identities, Superheroes, that works. anyone who knows me well probably could have seen something like this coming LMAO

also trying to draw Robin & Superboy costumes that look thrown together and home-made when i have spent so much time drawing their actual designs was a challenge

[sunn-mechanic]

[ID in alt]

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY to the AU I literally almost never talk about ;-;

anyway,, they make me unwell and they'll make you unwell too if I can ever get the fic written <3

[sheepory]

JUST FOUND A CUTE LAMB NIGHTGOWN ONLINE OUGHGHGHGGHG ! AND ITD FIT MEE

[mauricemetsfan]

I found this cat thing on the side walk it wants you

(my mauridoise fanchild is finished, gaze upon)

I DON'T CARE WHO THEY SEND IM NOT PAYING TAXES!!!!!!!

[wateruamelon]

i miss vhad

[twoturtlesinabathtub]

Writing more DbD Weskennedy for Weskennedy Week 2024!

Sneak peek at Part 1, the prompts for which are Predator/Prey and Hurt/Comfort. It feels so good to be back lol

Don't do the finger wag, Leon thought. He'd punch Wesker in his stupid, handsome face if he did that smug little finger wag.

"There's no point in hiding, Kennedy." The locker doors banged open, and Leon was met with the sight of a tall man in black who was holding a wicked looking blade as long as the rookie's forearm.

Well, Leon had made a personal resolution. He hauled back and aimed a right hook at Wesker's head; the Killer's inhuman reflexes kicked in and he caught it instantly, giving Leon an unimpressed look. Regardless, his hand around the Survivor's fist loosened and came to grasp his wrist, a gloved thumb brushing over the pulse point. Leon yanked against the hold, wide-eyed, but his efforts were, predictably, futile as all hell. The Killer watched unblinkingly as the Survivor pulled as far away as he could, plastering himself to the cheap metal back of the locker.

"Leon," Wesker said simply, voice low and even.

"G-get—" The rookie's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he looked to the side, unable to meet the glowing, serpent gaze trained steadily on him. He suppressed a flinch when Wesker's hand pulled his own forward until it was splayed against the Killer's chest, just to the left of his sternum. Leon felt the rhythmic thumping under warm leather and tried not to recoil.

It was...difficult. Fighting his instincts—both his natural human-versus-Tyrant ones and the fear implanted in his brain by an eldritch monster—was no easy task. It helped whenever an inkling of clarity broke through and Wesker touched Leon, gently, with no intent to injure or infect. It was usually the older man who saw through the haze first. Maybe it was because Wesker was more intelligent and detached from his emotions, or because he wasn't the one fighting for his fucking life—Leon didn't analyze it too deeply. For now, he just focused on not flipping out while in the presence of a superhuman who could snap him like a twig.

Leon concentrated on his breathing, the rise and fall of his own chest as he flexed his fingers, making small indents in Wesker's shirt. When he eventually felt like his heart wasn't going to explode, the rookie looked up into eyes that had gone from malicious and threatening to patient and inviting. Leon let out a long, quiet exhale.

Without explicitly saying so, he'd created a signal to indicate the trial induced terror had left him: he'd call Wesker something absurd. The older man absolutely hated it. "Hey, sugar pie," said Leon with a saccharine grin. He laughed when Wesker's expression became downright disgusted and he flashed Leon his you're-lucky-I-am-enamored-with-you glower.

"How are they getting worse every time?" the Killer grumbled under his breath.

"I dunno what you're talking about." Leon snickered again when Wesker's face suggested he'd bitten into a lemon, peel and all.

"Don't you? I suspect half of your free time is spent devoted to coming up with the most nonsensical endearments possible."

"So you admit that they're endearing?"

"To you, perhaps," Wesker huffed. "I do have an actual name, you know."

"Oh, right. In that case..." Leon stepped forward a little in the cramped space, lifting up onto his toes. "Get down here, Albert."

Something atypically delicate flashed in Wesker's eyes and he complied, leaning down to capture Leon's mouth in a soft kiss. The younger man was further calmed when he heard a quiet hiss of steel against leather, indicating Wesker had sheathed his blade.

Eventually, Leon pulled away, and both men pointedly ignored the guttural roar of a generator being finished in the distance. "How are your matches going?" the rookie asked.

"Well, as expected. I am—" Wesker's nostrils flared, and his humorless grin exposed bright, gritted teeth— "cooperating. Fewer headaches that way."

"Yeah?" Leon's hand on Wesker's chest wandered absentmindedly, tracing random patterns against the sleek material. "How long's it been, do you think?" The concept of time in The Entity's realm was iffy at best, especially to Survivors, who couldn't exactly make good guesswork whenever they were dead; Wesker had taken it upon himself to try keeping track of it regardless, counting seconds and minutes and hours in one of his exercises to keep his mind occupied.

Wesker paused and stared into space, his right hand coming to cup the side of Leon's neck. Eventually, he looked back at Leon. "Approximately six days and eleven hours, give or take a handful of seconds."

The rookie sighed. "It felt longer than that to me."

"I agree," Wesker replied. "I think the mansion is starting to miss you."

Cute, thought Leon. His fingers trailed upward to fiddle with the collar of Wesker's shirt. "I've been missing it, too. I just—" he grimaced slightly in irritation— "I'll do well in a match, escape, and then the Killer in the next one is just...better. Totally on their game, and I get my ass beat. I hate it. I just didn't want the mansion seeing me all bruised and battered whenever I went to visit it after a rough trial."

"The mansion wouldn't have minded," Wesker insisted, and Leon's heart twanged at the gentleness in the Killer's voice. "It wants to make you feel safe."

"I appreciate it," said Leon softly. He hooked a finger into Wesker's collar and pulled him down for another soft brush of lips. "And you can tell it I'll likely be there soon, since my current match is against a bastard who I doubt will go easy on me."

Wesker chuckled as the pad of his thumb brushed over Leon's Adam's apple, which bobbed nervously when the rookie realized the grip on his neck had tightened by a fraction. Old habits really did die hard—either that or Wesker was already slipping back into Murder Mode. "Have I ever?" the older man asked.

Leon sighed. "Okay, we both know where this is going. Still clocked in."

The Killer's hand dropped from Leon's neck down to his own side, gloved fingertips brushing against his knife sheath. "The music plays," he affirmed, blinking a few times in rapid succession as his forehead creased.

"Can I make one little request before you go all batshit-bioweapon on me?" Leon asked, grinning when Wesker rolled his eyes. He plowed on before the Killer could respond. "Try not to infect me—it feels godawful, and hunting down those spray cans is a pain in the ass."

Wesker's expression remained impassive, as neutral as he could manage. "You know full well I can't promise that."

Leon did know. Even now, he looked down at Wesker's left arm and saw slick, slimy tendrils of Uroboros starting to ooze from his skin and glove and sleeve. "Well, can't blame me for trying." The corner of Wesker's mouth twitched up. "Besides, you can make it up to me later."

"Really?" Wesker's voice lowered to a silken murmur as he leaned down, meeting Leon's gaze at his own level as scalding eyes burned through black glasses. Funny how the man could be both threatening and seductive at the same time. "And what did you have in mind?"

"You're a smart guy," Leon said lightly. "I'm sure you'll figure it out." He took Wesker by the lapels of his coat and reeled him in for a final kiss, quick and filthy, and felt Wesker relax for half a second. "I've actually got something for you, first," Leon continued, making an approving sound when Wesker's nose skimmed across his cheek. The heat radiating from the older man was almost comforting enough to make Leon forget they were in the middle of a trial.

"Hmm?" Wesker murmured, finally pulling away. Something approaching regret creased his brow, even as the rookie heard the unmistakable noise of a knife being slid from its sheath.

Leon smiled softly. "Yep. Just for you." He leaned in as if he were going for another kiss. Wesker was too distracted to notice the Survivor had retrieved something from his back pocket.

The realization hit Wesker as soon as he heard a click and something metal thunking to the ground, and his eyes widened in shock just as Leon squeezed his own shut, clapping a hand over them for extra protection. Getting hit by the blinding flash in such a small space was like staring directly at the sun; Wesker yelped in surprised pain, throwing an arm over his face and staggering back. Leon shoved right past the Killer before he could recover and vaulted through the window, a shit-eating grin stretched across the rookie's face.