current hyperfixation: resident evil / leon kennedy
This is a side blog so I canβt follow back, but I am happy to make friends. I also have blogs for One Piece and Hazbin Hotel, let me know if youβre interested in getting those URLs!
I do not consent to any of my original content being reposted, stolen, or used for AI. Please do NOT reupload or repost my screencaps or my writing.
About Me
I am an adult in my late 20βs.
I am either INFP or ENFP.
I am genderfluid; I prefer she/they pronouns most often but I do also welcome masculine terms as well.
I am demisexual/demiromantic.
I am neurodivergent, chronically ill, and disabled.
Fun Facts
I am a cosplayer.
I voiced radio dramas for four years.
I did theatre for ten years.
Iβm a writer and roleplayer.
I have a cat who is missing the same eye I am blind in.
Blog Contents
Right now my hyperfixation is Resident Evil, but I also enjoy other games like The Last of Us, BG3, Uncharted, Death Stranding, Tomb Raider, Dead by Daylight, Silent Hill, FNAF, and more! Horror is obviously my favorite genre, but I like cute games too.
I honestly could not think of a better username, so it may or may not change soon.
There will be dark material on this account; themes of graphic violence and sexual content will inevitably come up. Please do not follow me if you cannot handle that.
I like to write fanfiction when my brain allows it, so I might be posting that here. My inbox is always open for requests or suggestions.
There will be content for oc x canon ships as well as canon x canon ships.
This is a side blog so I canβt follow back.
Rules
My account is not suitable for minors.
Please do not steal any of the original content on this account, I work very hard on my plots and theyβre very special to me.
I am selective about who I surround myself with, so I block very openly. Itβs not always personal, and even when it is Iβm discreet about it.
I have a low tolerance for bad behavior. I donβt socialize with anyone who has poor fandom etiquette, so please donβt expect me to like you if youβre constantly complaining about the fandom or if you bully people in the fandom. I will block if I notice that someone is gossiping about or outright slandering others.
I donβt do ship discourse, so please leave me out of it. I prefer to use my own common sense and moral code to block and filter what I personally deem bad or boring, I donβt have an obligation to agree or disagree with anyone elseβs opinions.
DO NOT INTERACT if you do any of the following: vagueposting, call out posts, name dropping, harassing, threatening, or pressuring others bloggers, and general fandom drama. Seriously, stay far away from me.
I am happy to tag trigger warnings, so if you need me to tag something donβt be afraid to suggest it! In return, I do ask that people tag a trigger warning for any content involving beheading so I donβt see that outside of a gameplay context.
older!leon kennedy learns the phrase "locked in" and immediately becomes unbearable.
you find him drinking coffee at 6 a.m. staring out the window.
"what are you doing?"
"getting locked in."
he's paying bills? locked in.
assembling furniture that you ordered? locked in.
watching a documentary about sharks? locked in.
the final straw is when he spends twenty minutes trying to open a stubborn pickle jar, finally gets it, and looks at you with the most serious expression imaginable before saying, "that's what happens when you're locked in."
Domestic Leon Kennedy Finally Took You to Olive Garden
Your favorite.
The waiter stopped beside the table.
Leon glanced up, reading glasses perched low on his nose. He sat the dessert menu down as the waiter dropped the food off and brought the grater over Leon's meal.
"Tell me when."
Parmesan fell onto his pasta.
And kept falling.
The waiter glanced up.Β Leon gave the smallest shake of his head.
More cheese.
More, until...finally...
"When."
The waiter smiled politely and moved on.
Leon leaned across the table, lowering his voice.
"I only told him to stop because I didn't want to embarrass you."
You laughed.Β "You would've let him grate until his wrist gave out."
"I would've."
"I would've let you."
"I know."
You rested your chin in your hands, smiling at him across the table.
"Oh?"
He smiled back.
"You get this little look."
"What look?"
"The one where you're trying very hard to pretend you're not delighted."
You felt warmth creep into your cheeks.
"I don't make a face."
"You do."
"I do not."
"You scrunch your nose."
"My nose?"
"And your eyes get all squinty." His smile softened. "It's the same face you made when I brought you that ridiculous dinosaur-shaped chicken nugget."
You stared at him.
"You remember that?"
He looked genuinely puzzled.
"Sweetheart...c'mon."
As if forgetting the expression you make when you're happy had ever been an option.
He comes home at 3:12 AM after a mission that took three days and also his will to live.
He doesnβt turn on the lights or announce himself, he just heads to your kitchen in full tac gear and opens the fridge.
He drinks orange juice straight from the carton like the raw vitamin C will somehow fix all the cuts, bruises, and trauma.
You walk in half-asleep, flicking on the light with an audible click.
He goes completely still, like a raccoon youβve just caught in your kitchen. He's too tired, too committed, and obviously considering whether freezing counts as a survival strategy.
He pauses.
You pause.
Then he nods once like this is a completely normal household interaction, tips the juice back, and finishes the carton.
He tries to shoot it into the open trash can.
Misses.
Shuffles across the kitchen, picks it up, and gently places it in the trash can.
you just blink at him.
"they trust you to save the world?" you ask.
"I can't believe it either," he says and turns the light off. "Dead tired. Let's go to bed."
Another update on the Grace WIP. I fixed her face a little but Iβm still struggling with realistic facial features Iβm so used to cartoon or anime style.
Please do not reupload or repost, reblogs are fine! Also please be kind, Iβm still teaching myself digital art.
something so unfairly attractive about leon kennedy eating an orange.
he's leaned against your counter like he owns it, bare hip propped against the cold marble, as he peels one. his hair is tousled and his sweatpants are riding lower and lower with each shift against the counter.
he obliviously offers you a slice once he cracks it open, not noticing the oggling or the sudden shift in atmosphere.
he slides you half when you acceptβor double checks before shrugging if you decline.
he houses an orange or three. and when he's done, there's orange juice dripping from his fingers.
you shamelessly stare as he licks his lips first, before licking each finger with eye contact too deliberate to be coincidental. because of course, he's noticed that you're staring now.
you, on the other hand, certainly weren't imagining an entirely different substance running around his pretty mouth. that would be absurd.
