#idk if there's something else i should tag

[mydarlingclaudia]

every word I meant to say

note : ermmmm hi. don't ask where I went for like almost a month work is eating me alive and I was sad. this was inspired by that the unsent project thing andddd idk if I really like this it's def ooc but I was thinking about it again today and this has been in my drafts since September so I figured why not

wc : 2.1k

tags : @luvrgreyy @clitorphosis @sonya-semyonova

desc : letters that went unsent. kind of unrequited love, angst (???), more Leon focused, re2r!Leon - DI!Leon, fem!reader, ooc, not proofread

"I meant to write sooner, I really did. I know it's been a year, my life is so different now, I don't think you'd even believe me if I tried to explain it. I hope you're doing better than I am, I'm happy you weren't able to move to the city with me."

Leon hasn't written a letter since, what, his first few years in the academy? Maybe the end of his senior year of high school? He can't really remember, but he knows that this letter is important because it's to you, his friend he hasn't seen since the night he left for Raccoon City. This isn't even an actual letter, he's scribbling out what he thinks might be good excuses as to why he hasn't talked to you in a year on the back of pieces of scrap paper he took from the office.

He's supposed to be asleep right now, same as everyone else in boot camp, but it's been a year since Raccoon City and he's wondering if you ever tried to reach him. Maybe you tried to go to Raccoon City to look for him, only to see the pile of rubble that stood in its place, sectioned off by the government. Maybe you thought he was dead, he wouldn't blame you.

You and Leon had stuck together all throughout high school, even managed to stay friends when he went off to the police academy and you moved a few hours away for college. He doesn't even know if your address is still the same, he really hopes it is, there's no phone-books in boot camp if he wanted to try and call you, you're supposed to have your loved ones numbers memorized.

The last time Leon saw you was the night before he was supposed to move to the city, before he got a letter in the mail the next morning telling him not to come in, he really wishes he had listened. You were so happy for him, starting out as a city cop was a big deal and he had worked so hard to get there, you and a few friends had thrown him a going-away-party, telling him not to forget you once he got to the city. Leon couldn't forget you if he tried.

You had talked about moving to the city with him for a short period of time, it was really just ramblings the two of you kept bringing up. "Oh, when we live in the city..." "I can come visit you at work..." "I'll handle dinner, you'll handle cleaning..." Nothing ever really came of those ideas, but it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach knowing you wanted to come to the city with him.

He hopes you’ve been well, that life has been kinder to you than it has to him. Leon hopes you got that job you were gushing about the last time he saw you, he hopes you still think of him on his birthday because he thinks of you often.

He shouldn’t have gone to Raccoon City, he should’ve stayed home the day he left and instead stopped by your house to bother you about going to see a movie. Or he should have taken you to lunch, anything would’ve been better than walking into a city that was beyond saving.

"I’m not really sure what I’m saying, but I know I miss you. How have you been? I hope I’m able to come and visit soon, everything’s been moving so fast, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe we can get dinner, or something. Whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, don’t worry."

Leon's hands shake a tiny bit when he thinks of you, it's that school boy nervousness that movies portray whenever there's a boy with a crush on a girl who he knows is probably too out of his league. You were friends, at least.

"You're done with school now, right?" He knows you are. "I wish I was there for the graduation ceremony, I know your parents are proud. Do you remember my graduation party? Someone spiked the punch and we both ended up passed out in the bathtub at your house, you looked really pretty that night. I hope your graduation was better than mine. This would probably have been better as a phone call, but I don't know, you said letters were always more thoughtful.

– Leon"

–

That letter never got sent. Every letter needs an envelope, Leon just never got around to finding one, but he kept that scrap piece of paper tucked inside his pillowcase on the odd chance that he got his hands on one. He had stricter rules to follow than the other recruits, being legally dead and all.

But even after he got out of boot camp, he kept the letter. It's hidden away in some drawer in his house, he's not sure where, though.

He didn't make it into the army, he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but being in the position he was in now wasn't much better. He's stronger now, hardened, more mature.

Leon's written a few more letters to you over the years, ones that still never got sent because he either deemed them unworthy or because he became unsure of himself halfway through writing it. But he hasn't thrown any of them away, he'll send them one day, he swears it.

Leon's not using you as a way of journaling, either, even though he should find some way to actually write down his thoughts to get them out of his head. What he writes to you is mostly memories, telling you that his life keeps changing and that he misses you. He knows you're different by now, too. You're both grown, no longer in high school, no longer in college or the academy. If he could turn back time, go anywhere other than Raccoon City, he would. He thinks that's selfish of him, him not being there would've left Claire and Sherry in that city, but how would he have even known?

"Me again, hope you're doing better than I am." Leon's way with words gets worse and worse by the week, not that he cares. "I met someone who kind of reminded me of you, she's a sweetheart, like you. You'd probably become fast friends if you were ever able to meet."

Leon's not allowed to tell you about his mission in Spain, or about the president's daughter. President Graham is putting more body-guards in place for his daughter once she steps foot in D.C. again, Leon's sure the president considered appointing Leon as one of them at some point since breaking the news that she was going to be coming back home safely.

Leon should stop thinking about you so much, it's not like you were his only friend in the world, you've probably forgotten him, anyway.

"My life is still different, but yours probably is, too. This probably sounds stupid, but I miss being in high school. You probably don't, your mom was up your ass all the time and you worked yourself to the bone. Has that changed at all?

I remember that one year I went to Thanksgiving at your house, your uncles were all drunk and your cousins kept trying to get me to come sit with them, your grandpa was trying to get me interested in football. I haven't had a holiday like that since then, your family was always really nice to me."

He's not sure what to say anymore, these letters always just end up dragging out, but Leon has a lot of memories and he hopes you think of them as often as he does.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited. It's harder for me to get time off of work these days, even though I could really fucking use it. I promise one day I'll come back, it's just not going to be for a little while. Just don't do anything dumb.

– Leon"

–

Those letters he's been writing you have piled up in the drawer of his nightstand.

He's definitely sure that your address has changed by now, you're probably not even in the same state anymore. He could always try to find you on Facebook, explain everything that's been building up over the years in a simple text, but there's still rules he's supposed to follow even in his personal life.

Leon didn't stop writing, though. The letters did eventually get shorter, he's not sure if you like the same things anymore or if you'd even be interested.

He writes now mostly about how different his life would be if he was with you, if he had just asked you out in high school or kissed you the night he was supposed to leave for Raccoon City. It almost feels real to him when he goes to sleep, but that might just be the alcohol numbing his brain, not the dream of you sleeping next to him or the feeling of your breath on the back of his neck, not even the little pitter-patter off tiny footsteps coming from down the hallway.

It does make him feel a bit pathetic, dreaming of a life with someone he hadn't talked to in years. Leon can't help but think of you, he always thought you were pretty, and the past always lives in the back of his mind, but it comes alive late at night.

You're an entirely different person by now, someone who he hasn't had the opportunity to meet yet. You're probably married, maybe you even have a few kids running around, Leon's jealous of that. That could've been him, but it's not. But he's not even sure if you'd recognize each other if you passed by on the street, so is it even worth it to dwell on all the maybe's?

"I'm not sure I'll get to visit you for a while, not without a lucky fucking twist of fate, anyway."

All these letters are starting to sound the same, but Leon clings onto the thought of someday sending them to whatever corner of the country you were hiding in and hoping that there's still room in your life for a stranger.

"Do you still want me over for dinner? You don't know what I'd give to just eat a shitty meal with you right now."

You don't know what he'd give to do anything with you, really. He knows that there's a lifetime worth of things he's missed out on and that maybe every once in a while you think about him in the same way he thinks about you.

"I don't know how to ask this, but are you married? I know you'd look stunning in a wedding dress." You probably are, you're a catch, who wouldn't want to put a ring on your finger? Your husband's probably a better man than he is, too. One who hasn't had years worth of trauma jammed into his brain with the proof of it marked across his body, your husband probably takes you out on a date every week, maybe even surprises you with breakfast in bed and kisses the nape of your neck to gross out your kids. "I really hope you're happy, in my head you are.

I wanted that to be us, I never told you, but I was a chicken-shit kid and didn't know how to say it. You show up in my dreams sometimes, you deserve nothing but the best. I meant to get back in touch with you forever ago, but I think it's probably too late.

– Leon"

–

Two years after his last letter and Leon's still thinking of you, seventeen years after Raccoon City and the image of you sitting across from him for the last time still loops in his mind. He doesn't really remember your voice but he knows that you thought handwritten letters were romantic, and he still reads over the ones he meant to send to you but kept avoiding.

He's done with the letters, hasn't written one in a long time. But he just got back from California and your old favorite song is playing on the radio, and he's remembering how in love he is with your memory.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm too old for this and I'm sure you'd tease me if we had somehow kept in touch. I don't blame you if you thought I died in Raccoon City, I hope you're still alive and that life is good to you.

You were always important to me, I think you've given me something to cling to over the years. This letter won't find you and I'm not even really sure if I want it to, but I hope you'd still call me if you were able to. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, but I'm happy you never got to see them.

Love, Leon

p.s. I'd say I love you but it feels like something you'd say in person"

[aestheticallynotdeerlightful]

I was gonna wait and post these till I had more doodles but I’ll just post them now it’s fine. I’ll just explain stuff in the tags as per usual

Some Raz poses and some Dion and Adam stuff

.

(Please do not use or repost my works anywhere without explicit permission from me thank you)

[adhdandcomics]

perhaps the most important question i’ve ever asked:

does anyone have tips for people trying to stop being chronically late to everything in the world that aren’t weirdly judgmental and aggressive or flat out lies

[technically-human]

Hi i'm absolutely in love with the reverse au!!

I want to know, in this verse does edwin still confesses to charles? if so how is it different? i feel if he did he would end it by apologizing, you know, religious guilt and all

There’s a train that goes through Hell.

Its journey starts in Wrath, and it departs already full of souls. It took Charles far too many years to realize that there were separate, more spacious wagons that demons could board. Not that he could understand why anyone, hellborn or not, would want to get into the damned thing. He certainly hadn’t.

Actually, Charles couldn’t recall ever boarding the train. As far as he could tell, he just appeared there one day, and had spent the next tortuous decades trying to get out. It was part of the torture. Getting out was entirely possible. More than that, it was necessary.

The train had no regular schedule that he could discern (not at first, though he had always been good at finding patterns, and was eventually able to crack it) but it would make quite a few stops before finally returning to the Wrath ring. Souls inside the train were already angry and far too close to each other (close, so close not even air could squeeze in) but when they got really violent was when the train made a stop.

Getting out didn’t mean you were free, no matter where you managed it, be it Sloth or Gluttony, Pride or Lust. No, as soon as the train finished its journey, you would appear back inside, in Wrath where you belonged, suffocating once again, getting ready to claw your way out for the millionth time.

Because if you didn’t get out, The Conductor would get you.

If he thought about it calmly, Charles could probably say that he got out of the train more times than not. Still, being caught by The Conductor once was bad enough, as there was no coal in Hell, and something had to serve as combustible. Souls could not burn to death, and the whole journey always felt longer than eternity when he was caught. Once it was over, he would be inside again, and fight with more desperation than before, not caring who stayed inside so long as it wasn’t him.

He couldn’t understand why anyone, hellborn or not, would want to get into the damned thing. He certainly hadn’t. But as the souls pushed and bit and clawed and punched their way out, Edwin boarded the train. And that wasn’t even the most groundbreaking revelation Charles had that day.

ko-fi

[noblechaton]

idk like on some level. sure. mutual hate on a thing can be fun. there's plenty of stuff I poke fun at with my friends - but that's to ourselves, typically in private conversations where fans of such things won't see em, and I've gone out of my way in the near decade (maybe over at this point? eugh) of my fandom of this show to kinda be aware of any of my more negative posts, not tagging them or at least not spamming them

yet with ml there seems to be this constant effort from some to go out of their way to remind you "Erm, but the show is bad??" and it's like. ok. that's how ya feel, whatever, totally fine to think that way, but then they keep going, they go to every post they see - fanart, fic, casual shitposts, anywhere ppl are having fun, anything that doesn't also say the show is bad, and remind you that they think it's bad. they run 6 salt blogs dedicated to characters they've hated for near half a decade from a show they've maybe hated for even longer and sometimes haven't even seen the last few seasons of, all to continue to spout this constant stream of "Show....bad" negativity with no further goal than to, seemingly, try and ruin it for someone else, and to me that sorta thing is just like. what are we doing here man. what the fuck are you

be critical of the show, that's totally fine! I don't love every aspect of it, I'm sure even the biggest bugheads would have something to point out as a flaw or issue they have with it. but this seemingly endless wave of ppl going on and on about how bad they think the show is, how they carry that as if it's objective fact, how they believe everyone in the cast except Marinette or Adrien (or even sometimes like, I dunno, Lila) should be thrown in a meat grinder and make sure that you know they believe such a thing, repeating it so many times as if they want you to believe it, too, and it's just like. why? what's so wrong about others enjoying a silly lil cartoon show?

and ultimately to me it's just like. fuckin' buzz off lmao. I don't give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks of the show - my taste in media and my feelings toward the media I consume are the objectively correct ones, after all!

you can't make a single fucking post about miraculous ladybug on this site without someone thinking their opinions about how ML Is A Bad Show are wanted or appropriate

[lost-in-fandoms]

Don't ask me why, I don't know it just happened. Maxiel early morning sex with vampire!Daniel I guess

cw: slight somnophilia, blood drinking, tiny bit of praise kink, unprotected (but implied safe) sex

It's still early when Daniel nudges his nose against Max's throat, the sun barely starting to peak out of the horizon, the room still dark and quiet.

He doesn't need too much light to know how Max is looking, pale skin soft and warm with sleep under the sheets, mouth slightly open, messy hair tickling Daniel's forehead. Perfect round ass pressed snugly against Daniel's quickly hardening cock, just the thin layer of Max's boxers between them.

Daniel nudges Max's neck again, one of his hands tracing down Max's body, curling around his hip and squeezing slightly, just enough to alert Max, not enough to fully wake him up, perfectly balanced to elicit a change in his breathing.

He bares his teeth and drags them gently over Max's pulse point, feeling it pick up as Max shifts, pressing back against him with a soft sigh.

"Daniel?" he asks, letters slurring together, as if it could be anyone else. It makes Daniel smile and press his teeth a touch harder into his skin, feeling him shudder. "What time is it?"

"Still early," he murmurs, keeping his voice as soft as possible, not wanting Max to fully wake up.

Max hums, turning his face slightly towards Daniel, eyes still firmly closed, asking for a kiss Daniel is happy to give, trying to keep it sweet even as his hips kick against Max's ass when Max pushes it back again.

Max's lips curve into a smile against his, something small and pleased that Daniel wants to eat, the hunger in his body burning brighter.

"I want you," he says as if it wasn't already clear, their lips brushing together, the hand still on Max's hip traveling lover to his thigh, relishing in the way Max lets himself be moved, bending his knee to give Daniel's space, in the shudder that moves down Max's spine when his teeth find his throat again.

Max hums once more, lax and pliant in his hold, hips moving in lazy circles against Daniel, neck bared.

"Do you want me to be awake?" he murmurs, making Daniel laugh. They've done this often enough he knows he doesn't have to be, but he always asks anyway, always wants to make it good for Daniel, as if just having him here, warm and open in his arms isn't the best Daniel could ask for.

"I'll do the work," Daniel reassures him, already moving him to get rid of his underwear, trying his best to not disturb him too much as he leans over to grab the lube on the nightstand. "You just be good for me."

Max doesn't say anything more, already almost all the way back to sleep, even as Daniel lubes his fingers up and prods at his hole, still a little lose from the night before. He keeps it short but thorough, enjoying every one of Max's quiet sighs and moans, nose pressed on the soft spot just behind his ear, tongue lapping at his pulse point, barely keeping his teeth in check.

He gives in to the impulse of teasing, just a little bit, tugging on Max's rim, keeping his hips still to not allow him to fuck himself back on Daniel's fingers, but Max smells so sweet it's impossible to resist, especially when he starts begging so quickly.

"Please," he whines, sounding barely aware, tongue heavy in his mouth, limbs loose in Daniel's hands, his to take.

"I got you, I'm sorry," Daniel soothes, lining himself up, but stopping just before pushing in. "Can I?" he asks, lips brushing against Max's neck, feeling it move as Max nods.

"Good boy," he praises, steading his dick with one hand and Max's neck with the other.

And then, just as he presses in, he bites.

The tight heat of Max around him and the sweetness of his blood on his tongue make Daniel's head spin, as Max's moan reverberates through his whole body. He almost loses control, wanting nothing more than to snap his hips forward, fuck Max hard and fast until they both come panting, but it's not what this is about. He fights with himself, sucking slowly at Max's neck letting his blood pool on his tongue before swallowing, barely pulling back, grinding his hips against Max's ass in tight smooth circles.

He can feel Max clench around him even as his shoulders relax even more, his head lolling to the side, Daniel's hand the only thing keeping him pressed against his lips.

He listens to the way Max's breath itches, soft whines escaping from his parted lips, guiding his leg a little higher to be able to hit that sweet spot inside him that makes his back arch, his dick kick against his stomach.

"Come, baby," he slurs, a thin rivulet of blood escaping from the corner of his mouth, quickly chased by his greedy tongue.

He feels when Max comes untouched, not only in the change in the tension of his body, but in the way his blood seems to become sweeter and bolder in his mouth, almost too rich to swallow. It's that, and the way he's clenching and shivering through the aftershocks, that makes Daniel come too with a groan, muffled by the liquid in his mouth.

He doesn't move when he's done coming, staying pressed close inside as he dutifully tongues Max's skin until it stops bleeding, before pressing a kiss to the bruise that is already forming there, an apology for the effort he will have to put in to keep it hidden for the next few days.

Max stays still and pliant through it all, breathing deep and steady as if he had indeed gone back to sleep, not complaining even when Daniel finally pulls out, come trickling slowly out of his hole. On a different day, Daniel would want to move, get a closer look, get his mouth on it, but as it is, he just presses as close as he can, kissing Max's neck again. Soon he will get up to clean them both, get something for Max's breakfast, probably start packing for both of them, but for right now he can just enjoy his warmth and smell for a little longer, his blood singing inside him.

[coolunspokenforname]

I didn't get the trans Stan twins headcannon at first - mainly because I couldn't imagine adult Stan and Ford giving themselves almost identical names - but then I remembered how close they were as kids and, honestly, it would be more unbelievable if they didn't give themselves matching names. Who wouldn't want to share a name with their best friend in the world? And Ford keeps the name even after his fallout with Stan??? Crying.

[falloutcoys]

can you imagine if mike walters had a tumblr account

5 notes

🔌woebegone-official Follow

something special might be going out to certain players later today ;) only the best of the best will get this opportunity!

🧠 donthatetheplayer Follow

wtf guys you said i was #1 and i didn't get anything? @cannonball do you know what's going on???

💎 proudwbgdropout

bro really believed them 💀💀💀

187 notes

🧸 ryanapologist69 Follow

please tag your spoilers!! the game runners put so much work into the build up for these challenges. if you know what the pig means when you get it, there's no suspense!

#challenge 3 spoilers #woe.begone spoilers #it's like people don't even care about the game experience. don't play if your hearts not in it!

12 notes

🐻 imthebear reblogged

🐻 imthebear

don't tell him but i have a special surprise for edgar back at base! i'm so excited

🏎️ marissanotmelissa Follow

ohhhh my god could you two shut up about each other for even a moment? like, we get it guys! you're in love!

🐻 imthebear

you know you can just block me

🏎️ marissanotmelissa Follow

yeah but then i wouldn't know what to make fun of you for in meetings

#cmon mikey you know i love you #<- that doesnt mean you get to be mean to me! :( #i'm not bringing you biscuits and gravy tomorrow

9 notes

🌲 over-polls Follow

please reblog for larger sample size! <3

🌲 over-polls Follow

i should have expected this

113,821 notes

felixfiles-deactivated20230924

oops i think my boss found my account. i might have to go back and unmake it, sorry friends

👨🏼‍🔬 green87 Follow

A little late for that, I'm afraid!

🏢 compound-heritage-posts

certified heritage post

7,209 notes

🔦 troyfromthefrontgate Follow

wait how does this work. what does reblog mean?

[hawnks]

My neighbor makes tamales. She brings over a bunch of them all at once. I’ve never had a tamale before (I know, I know), so I look a up a tutorial video. I imagine Sara in her downstairs apartment, soaking corn husks, kneading dough. I’m not much of a cook myself, I can’t offer her anything in return. It doesn’t matter. Every once in a while she stops by with another big bag of them, tells me about their fillings, the day she’s had, how her mothers doing.

She doesn’t know that some days I forget to buy groceries, or forget to eat altogether. She doesn’t know that food has always been a sacred, scary thing to me, that every time I open up one of those husk wrappers, steaming and full, it saves me a little.

The woman running the soap stand at the farmers market doesn’t have any customers, so I ask her a million questions about her process. She tells me she learned the old fashioned way, from the farmer down the road. No one would ever talk to her because she was so mean, except the soap maker. So the farmer taught her everything she knew, how to patch a roof, how to raise a goat, how to make soap and stew and blankets. She rubs lotion into my hands. It smells like lavender and warm earth. Yesterday my knuckles were so dry, they cracked.

In the downpour, three different cars pull over, ask me if I need a ride. I’m just a block away, I’ll be fine, I assure them. They still linger before driving off.

At the bus stop, I talk to a woman who tells me her woes. She’s smiling, but near tears. I pull out the tiny, rose quartz heart that’s in my pocket. I carry things like that with me, nicknacks, stickers. Trinkets I can hand out like trick-or-treat candies. She asks me, inevitably, like they all do, “Why do you have this.”

Because my neighbor makes tamales — but I can’t say that. “Just in case,” I tell her.

[bonicedemandarina]

Uhhh here u go vat7k fanart to start the year!!!

Sorry it looks so messy it was supposed to be a lil sketch but it got out of hand very quickly

CLOSE UPS

[teeth--king]

Sincerely an autistic guy who's already dealing with agoraphobia from multiple other factors.

I've been seeing these notions getting thrown around in volume again due to Dungeon Meshi and it's really getting to me mentally. I'd go one more of an explanation but I have no energy at the moment.

[sheetzking]

oh so THATS how babies are made...

[seaquestions]

blake lets him keep it. this is a dire lapse in judgement on his part but they're just gonna have to live with it. (ids in alts)

[artfartt]

HAPPY SPOOKY MONTH!!!

Oh yea and a few other stuff I did

Pirate au by @mack-timelines btw

Silver you asked for it-

I really haven’t been drawing much

Uhm…I figured out how to draw in this style

[steakout-05]

queer people will think they have a strong identity set in stone based on their past experiences and feelings and then years later have its entire foundation blasted away as soon as they think about it from a different perspective for a minimum of 5 seconds and then start questioning their entire identity again

it's me. i'm queer people. i think i just realised my identity as a demiromantic person is actually demi-queerplatonic or even some sort of demi-alterous thing instead and what i felt before wasn't actually romance and now i'm really confused about it. chat wtf is going on

[autismsupersoldier]

i made a cover for my gender playlist* and i think it came out pretty nice

current tracklist under cut, though i will be expanding it and welcome suggestions!

*a playlist that i think encapsulates what i want my gender to be :-)

🪩

Stayin Alive by Bee Gees

You Should Be Dancing by Bee Gees

Hot Cop by Village People

Love Machine by Wham!

Take on Me by a-ha

Down Under by Men At Work

Working for the Weekend by Loverboy

👢

Big Iron by Marty Robbins

The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie by Colter Wall

Sleeping on the Blacktop by Colter Wall

God's Gonna Cut You Down by Johnny Cash

Daddy Sang Bass by Johnny Cash

Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash

Sixteen Tons by Johnny Cash