gnawingonleonsbicep

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

Single ! Dad ! Leon ! Single !! Dad !!! Leon !!!! (I chant alone)

UGH. Just Leon in general, but RE2R Leon.. young single dad Leon… I want him. Being his babysitter, and using his kid as means to get closer to him, both because they’re a little sweetheart, and because it gives you an excuse to flirt with him. (And it’s an opportunity to show him you could be a good stepparent..)

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

Thinking about Leon as an artist or a sculptor again

I mentioned it before in this post, however I want to talk more about Leon himself this time :3

I don’t know how everything would play out. Something happens, maybe he’s been forced into therapy after everything he’s seen. It’s taken a toll on him over the years, and he needs to be in peak condition to enact his duty. Physically, emotionally, and mentally.

I imagine it’d be helpful for him, even if he was in denial, hellbent on refusing the help he didn’t think he needed. Or maybe he didn’t think he deserved it. Perhaps both?

Either way he needs better coping skills. Maybe art could be one of them. Something cathartic about expressing his deep rooted feelings without words. He wasn’t much of a wordsmith anyways. Not when it came down to his emotions, at least.

Perhaps as some kind of therapeutic thing he was tasked with making a self portrait of sorts. After all, a self portrait could tell you something about the person behind the work. I don’t know, I’ve never been to therapy, so I’m mostly BSing my way through this to get to the main thing I want to talk about.

Now, I don’t see Leon as someone that often has very violent outbursts. I’m not saying they’d never happen, I just don’t think they’d often be physical. That being said..

As an artist, no matter what medium you think suits him best, he sees those little details in every piece he creates. The things that give them life, that make them real. Whether it’s capturing the little way a smile meets the eyes, the scrunch of the nose, and the wrinkles that form in a true smile or a raw heartbreak. He noticed all of those things, the beauty that makes it full of life.

And he just can’t see that in himself.

He can’t see himself as more than a pawn.

He’s been stripped of his identity, anything about him that delves beneath the surface is wrapped up in red tape and tied up with a little bow reading “classified”. That’s not to say he was an honest, open book before. But he didn’t have the stoicism (amongst other things) beaten into him yet. Metaphorically speaking, however physically can also apply.

And it frustrates him to no end.

Years of that pent up frustration finally released in one violent outburst. One violent outburst that’s unfortunately unleashed upon the piece he was working on.

And ironically enough, with it creates a self portrait that’s most accurate to his own self perception.

Because that’s how he truly views himself. Something damaged. Beyond repair. Something no one could love or find beauty in.

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

Bf!leon that’s obsessed with kissing you because your kisses always taste so sweet because you have a sweet tooth, and a yearning for lollipops.

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

Leon seems like the type of guy that needs total darkness, a sleeping mask, 2 melatonins, white noise, a fan, 5 pillows, 2 blankets, and at least an hour of trying to sleep before he can get 2 hours of mediocre sleep.

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

I think Leon would sabotage his own romantic relationships if he had any.

It varies depending on which Leon you apply it to, but I think underneath everything he is a deeply insecure man, and he carries some kind of resentment towards the way his life played out. That he’s likely gotten a little bitter and jaded as he ages, and that thinks of himself as damaged goods. Or that he’s merely a pawn to be played and a tool to be used.

And I think that would impact his perception of love and romance. More specifically, I think he would view it as something he craves, but doesn’t deserve. Because everyone craves some form of love; whether it’s platonic, romantic, familial, or anything else.

I think the idea of settling down is one he often has fleeting thoughts of, especially as he grows older. A saccharine daydream, something that motivates him. Even if it’s unobtainable, the thought of making the world a better place for his future partner and potential children gives him some determination. But that’s all it is, a saccharine daydream.

Because who could love him? Sure, he is physically attractive, but a deep, intimate connection can’t be built on something so superficial. So much of him is classified, wrapped up in a pretty bow of red tape. Like a taunting gift. Who could love a jaded man who can’t share the entirety of his being with them? Someone who’s seen more than the average person should see and know.

I think those factors, among the other obvious ones would have him convinced that a relationship could only end with someone getting hurt. And he’s been hurt enough. So when things really become real, he panics and pushes everyone away. Because who could truly love a man like him?

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

Out Of Control (2/2)

pt. 1

❝ She likes disco, and tastes like a tear

Tells me, don't stop dancing, and she's pulling me near ❞

After rejecting you and moping for weeks upon weeks, Leon was treated to a night out at a club in an attempt to cheer up the saddened man. There, he reunites with a familiar face.

WC: 1872 words.

A/N I don’t really like how this turned out, especially because it took me so long to finish it, but I gave them a cheesy happy ending. Rejoice !!! Don’t let my opinion influence yours though. I’m heavily critical of myself. It’s kind of short and definitely sweet. When I’m not bullying Leon.

“I think it would be best if you left.”

Those nine words filled him with remorse. He had one good thing starting to go for him, and he ruined it all with nine words. Nine. Words.

To say he was beating himself up for that would be an understatement. But, what more could he do? He made his bed, and now he had to lie in it. All he could do was suck it up and move on.

Sure, the sentiment didn’t make it any easier, but that was just his burden to carry.

Or in other words, he was moping.

Huffing and puffing, sighing and pouting. It was pathetic. Endearingly so, like a puppy.

It was clear something was wrong. At least clear to anyone who knew him well enough. Someone he let in, that knew him before his walls were put in place. Who knew the tells, knew when the stoic agent was a little more miserable than usual.

That someone was Claire Redfield.

After Raccoon, they kept in contact semi-regularly. It was comforting knowing they had someone who shared their same trauma. And for the sake of Sherry. Claire was closer to her, had more time to spend with the little girl. Another person he let down.

Claire was a smart woman, perceptive. She could tell there was something bothering him. He wasn’t one to share, was never good at putting his feelings into words. Couldn’t do therapy cause of that. Still, she wanted to do something to try and brighten his mood.

That was how he found himself in some obnoxious club. The music was too loud, the red lights were too bright. And yet, the club was still dimly lit. Somehow. It seemed as though the lights were moving in each direction; sideways, up, down. He could practically feel a migraine forming already.

He wasn’t there by himself, no. He was dragged there by Claire. Who invited her brother. Who invited Jill. And still, he was tucked in a back corner moping.

He was out of place, all stone-faced and glum. It would’ve been intimidating to the other patrons if it weren’t for the fact that most of them were far too drunk to notice or care.

As he surveyed the crowd, a subconscious habit he’d picked up over time, he noticed a familiar figure. Much like him, you kept to yourself, leaning against a wall, foot perched up against it as you snapped your finger along to the music.

He didn’t let his gaze linger, quickly dropping to the floor. He fidgeted for a moment, trying to make himself seem smaller — if that was even possible.

Still, he couldn’t resist sneaking glances at you. He hadn’t seen you since that afternoon. He knew why. He wasn’t exactly gentle with you. He knew he hurt you, but it was for the better, wasn’t it? He put an end to whatever you could’ve been, even if he was a tad bit harsh with his rejection. (He could’ve been harsher. Not that you’d successfully convince him. He already solidified himself as the cruelest man in the world in his eyes.)

He could’ve approached you. He knew that, knew he could make amends for what he did, if only for the night. But he didn’t. He couldn’t dare to do that.

You probably wanted to be alone anyway. Even if you didn’t, he was convinced you wouldn’t want HIS company. Not that he would blame you. No, never. It was his fault, the consequences of his own choices.

..Then you noticed him staring at you.

Well, it wasn’t exactly like he was staring at YOU, More like your general vicinity. He didn’t even notice, was too lost in thought to. All furrowed brows and pursed lips. Until he noticed you noticing him staring at you. He looked like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, his gaze quickly falling to the floor before hesitantly returning to you. He didn’t have much of a choice after that, making his way over to you.

(He did, he just didn’t want to admit to himself that he wanted to approach you. Shocker, the Leon S. Kennedy actually has feelings?? Wow.)

A silence enveloped you. One that would’ve been awkward for the both of you if it wasn’t for the fact you had a bit of a buzz going on. While it didn’t make Leon any less uneasy, the fact that you weren’t as tense and uptight as he was eased some tension.

“Listen, I’m—”

“Do you want to dance?”

He wasn’t much of a dancer, but he couldn’t deny you. You could’ve batted your pretty eyes at him and demanded his beating heart on a silver platter, and he’d deliver it, no questions asked.

His hands were fixed at your sides as he awkwardly mimicked your movements, watching every step you took, the sway of your hips.

A small gasp left you as you looked up at him, a smile growing on your face as you babbled on about how the song that had begun playing was your favorite. Your enthusiasm was infectious, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as you sang along.

A hand slid up your form, landing on your back, pressing your chest against his, letting you sway them from side to side. The display was oddly intimate for a club dance floor. Not that he minded, basking in the warmth of your embrace, the scent of your shampoo invading his senses.

He couldn’t stop himself from admiring you even if he wanted to. From taking in every minuscule detail of your face; the way your nose scrunched, your eyes crinkled. You beamed pure joy, a stark contrast to the memory of the day he thought he lost you.

He couldn’t help himself, overcome by a rush of fuzzy mushiness he experienced very few times. His love life was about as thriving as a withered plant. And on the rare occasion he meets someone he likes, and they actually reciprocate his feelings, he pushes them away. For example, you.

Without thinking, he went for it. His hands, rough and calloused on your skin, cupped your cheeks, pulling you in.

His lips were slightly chapped, hesitantly meeting yours. He started to pull back, insecurity weighing on his mind for only a mere moment. The feeling of your lips following after his soothed him; the knowledge that you wanted him in the way he wanted you, you craved him in the way he craved you, even after he pushed you away, filled him with such a simple sense of relief.

He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand why you weren’t making petty jabs or behaving vindictively. Weren’t you hurt? Upset? You should be. Should be disgusted by the mere sight of him, spewing foul words at him and telling him how he’s an insecure, emotionally-stunted, shell of a man who’s too self-loathing to let himself have anything good going for him without ruining it.

Perhaps he needs to discuss some things with his therapist.

You shouldn’t be looking at him with such warmth and affection. Like he hadn’t been going out of his way to avoid even the smallest chance of running into you. It was pathetic, really. Of all the horrors he’s faced in life, his own feelings were the undoing of him. The one foe he couldn’t face; cowering like a stray dog deprived of love and affection. Left without a loving family or safe haven.

“Why..” Leon paused, contemplating his words. ‘Why don’t you hate me’, ‘why are you here? Are you here alone? Are you here with a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Something else?’, ‘Why can you even stand being around me?’ ‘Why..’

“..aren’t you mad at me?”

It wouldn’t have mattered what Leon said, he still would’ve come off as the desperate, insecure man he was.

“Well, Lenny..” you dragged out the nickname, leaning in as though you were sharing a secret so intimate it could only be shared between the two of you.

“…I.. Am having too good a time to be mad at you. For now,” you teased, the tip of your nose brushing against his, looking at him through your lashes. A large smile grew on your face, your hands making their way up, loosely intertwining with his hair. It was soft between your fingers.

He leaned into your touch, basking in the attention you so graciously presented him with. His gaze dropped to your lips, baby blues lingering on them before hesitantly meeting your eyes. A soft flush painted his features, softening them greatly. The bashful display was a different look for Leon. It suited him, though. Made him look less glum, smoothed out all the rough edges.

He looked almost peaceful, if not like a lovestruck fool.

“And I’m having a good time dancing with you. So don’t stop. Got it, big guy?” You continued, finishing what you had to say. He didn’t have time to answer your question as you pulled him closer, connecting your lips once more. A tingling sensation quickly spread across his lips, the feeling surprising, yet not unpleasant. It only made the moment more special, like the act was something greater purely because it was shared with you. There was a logical reason, because, of course there was, there’s always a logical reason for anything. He can be a romantic on the rare occasion, however. And this was one of those occasions.

His romantic streak didn’t end there. After someone bumped into him, then causing him to bump into you, the suggestion to get out of there and enjoy a good movie was accepted in a heartbeat. It was as though nothing had changed between you. One movie night turned into another, then coffee, leading to frequent dates. It was hard to stay mad at Leon for long when he was actively in your life again. Especially when he was so pathetically remorseful, practically groveling at your feet, begging for forgiveness. Not to mention the grand gestures funded by a lavish government paycheck.

A cheesy action movie played out on the screen, lighting up the dim living room of Leon’s apartment. It was late in the night, tired yawns filling the room as you leaned further into his embrace, snugly resting your head against his chest, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders.

It was cozy. Domestic, even.

A sense of peace washed over him as he watched you try to fight sleep, eyes shutting as you drifted off momentarily before opening again, a cycle that repeated until you couldn’t anymore. It was endearing, filled him with a gross, mushy feeling of affection. It seemed as though you truly broke down his walls. Bared his soul to yourself and gave it the love and attention it needed to flourish.

Pushing your hair back, he pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead, pulling you closer to him.

“I never thought I’d be in the position to say this,” he murmured, his gaze soft as it lingered on you. “But.. I think I love you. And I think I’m willing to take a chance on this.”

“I love you too, Leon.”

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

RE2R!Leon trying to set the mood for your fancy, candlelit dinner date at his apartment by playing music; he’s nervous because he still gets all flushed and fumbles his interactions with you because you’re just too pretty for him to handle, (you’ve been dating for like 5 years), and he’s trying to make everything perfect and special.

The poor guy’s a wreck, so he puts on one of the more romantic songs he knows off the top of his head, and poor, sweet, innocent Leon settles on Careless Whisper.

You can barely keep it together as he babbles on and on, but when he finally notices you (hardly) stifling your giggles, he asks what’s wrong, thinking something was out of place, or he forgot something.

That was the day he learned the song was about cheating. He was mortified and tried to change the song immediately.

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

I was scrolling through your stories AND OH BOY I cried like 252635267 times🤧 (pls keep it up💕)

AWH THANK YOU <33

I’m actually working on part 2 of this post !! I’ve been procrastinating a lot, but I’ve gotten about 1k words in :3

Despite my affinity for adding to Leon’s suffering, I promise it’ll end better than the first part did

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

I want to hold an apple and let Leon eat it from my hand like a horse.

Specifically vendetta Leon after he’s drank himself silly.

He’s passed out on the couch, and you need to get him to the bed, but he’s too heavy to carry. So instead of even trying to do that, you decide to have some fine and grab an apple — that you washed beforehand — and nudge him awake.

Immediately you step back and shake the apple repeating “here horsey horsey horsey”, “come here big guy”, and “come on” until he, in his half asleep, drunken state, follows you.

You continue that until you’ve made it into bed and then you let him eat it cause he’s a hungry man idk what to tell you.

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

Thinking about Leon as an artist or a sculptor again

I mentioned it before in this post, however I want to talk more about Leon himself this time :3

I don’t know how everything would play out. Something happens, maybe he’s been forced into therapy after everything he’s seen. It’s taken a toll on him over the years, and he needs to be in peak condition to enact his duty. Physically, emotionally, and mentally.

I imagine it’d be helpful for him, even if he was in denial, hellbent on refusing the help he didn’t think he needed. Or maybe he didn’t think he deserved it. Perhaps both?

Either way he needs better coping skills. Maybe art could be one of them. Something cathartic about expressing his deep rooted feelings without words. He wasn’t much of a wordsmith anyways. Not when it came down to his emotions, at least.

Perhaps as some kind of therapeutic thing he was tasked with making a self portrait of sorts. After all, a self portrait could tell you something about the person behind the work. I don’t know, I’ve never been to therapy, so I’m mostly BSing my way through this to get to the main thing I want to talk about.

Now, I don’t see Leon as someone that often has very violent outbursts. I’m not saying they’d never happen, I just don’t think they’d often be physical. That being said..

As an artist, no matter what medium you think suits him best, he sees those little details in every piece he creates. The things that give them life, that make them real. Whether it’s capturing the little way a smile meets the eyes, the scrunch of the nose, and the wrinkles that form in a true smile or a raw heartbreak. He noticed all of those things, the beauty that makes it full of life.

And he just can’t see that in himself.

He can’t see himself as more than a pawn.

He’s been stripped of his identity, anything about him that delves beneath the surface is wrapped up in red tape and tied up with a little bow reading “classified”. That’s not to say he was an honest, open book before. But he didn’t have the stoicism (amongst other things) beaten into him yet. Metaphorically speaking, however physically can also apply.

And it frustrates him to no end.

Years of that pent up frustration finally released in one violent outburst. One violent outburst that’s unfortunately unleashed upon the piece he was working on.

And ironically enough, with it creates a self portrait that’s most accurate to his own self perception.

Because that’s how he truly views himself. Something damaged. Beyond repair. Something no one could love or find beauty in.

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

EXACTLY YOU GET ME

Dating Leon, but he’s still kind of in love with Ada. He feels really guilty and bad because he loves you so much, but there’s still those lingering feelings.

One night the guilt’s too much and he finally breaks down and confessions it. He’s expecting you to be pissed, to tell him to leave and never come back.

Instead what happens is essentially “Oh shit, you too??”

Turns out you’ve both been somewhat pining for the same woman. He doesn’t know how you met her or when that happened but at least he’s not in the doghouse.

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

Dating Leon, but he’s still kind of in love with Ada. He feels really guilty and bad because he loves you so much, but there’s still those lingering feelings.

One night the guilt’s too much and he finally breaks down and confessions it. He’s expecting you to be pissed, to tell him to leave and never come back.

Instead what happens is essentially “Oh shit, you too??”

Turns out you’ve both been somewhat pining for the same woman. He doesn’t know how you met her or when that happened but at least he’s not in the doghouse.

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

Sometimes I like to think about Leon’s birthday being February 14th so he can be sad he’s getting old and because he’s alone on Valentine’s Day

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

Do you think Leon’s ever stayed awake at night with a lingering sense of dread as it sets in that his parents’ faces are getting harder to remember with every passing day? Do you think he can barely remember his parents’ names, only vaguely recalling them, unsure if he’s got it right or if it’s just something similar enough to sound right? That he stares at himself and desperately tries to find a glimpse of them in his features? Or maybe he thinks about how the only thing he carries of them is his last name?

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

https://www.tumblr.com/gnawingonleonsbicep/777656816322658304/thinking-about-kissing-leon-while-wearing?source=share

What if one day I ran out of chapstick and I kiss him and he doesn't feel the tingle anymore? Will he freak out? Brain shot circuit? Thinks that he's desensitized to kissing me? It's not special anymore? Mental breakdown? :(

Teehee I giggled

Anyways, I think at first he’d be a little confused cause he’s just gotten so used to it. So the first time you kiss him without it, it throws off everything and he just needs a second to process? Like, he just keeps waiting for the tingle to come. When it’s been too long for it he starts to question it.

Again, he didn’t put too much thought into it, didn’t think it could’ve been the chapstick you were wearing because it just crossed his mind. So he comes up to you and explains that “the tingle is gone.”

Now, I’m picturing that he didn’t really express his thought process for one reason or another, so maybe it gets a little chuckle out of you, and then you ask about it. He repeats “the tingle. It’s gone.”, and eventually you get it out of him that your chapstick makes his lips tingle when you kiss him.

Now whether you decide to explain it to him or not, after some moping from him maybe you get some more because even though it’s such a small thing, it brings Leon some joy, and the poor guy needs it. Like he really really needs it.

Personally though, if I was in a situation that was that endearing, I probably couldn’t tell him the truth and just make up something to appease him until I could get more.

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

I need to meet Leon post-re2r so I can love him like he’s a sopping wet puppy I found in a drenched, broken down cardboard box in the back alleyway of an Arby’s.

I just want to take him in my arms, let him rest his head on my chest, and whisper sweet things to him while I play with his hair :((

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

HC Leon’s good with technology cause of work and stuff, but he’s not big on social media because he has other things to worry about, so he’s not social media savvy at all. If he even has it.

Anyways I feel like if he could get himself in a position of following himself on a platform and being unable to unfollow himself he’d do it.