#muse: leon

[fat-slobby-hunks]

"Breakning news! The formerly unbeatable champion of Galar, Leon was spotted this morning at a press event wearing a peculiar pair of underwear... It seems this trainer's ace pokemon isn't just the lead on his team."

"This picture was snapped after the former champion's pants quite literally burst at the seams. According to eye witnesses it was after he attempted to bend over... more on this story as we get updates. Our next story, gym leader's or bhm models? These spicy rumors about gym leader's flood social media." The reporter finished signing off with a video of Leon obliviously walking around the party with his undies hanging out.

"WHAT?!? Who the heck got that picture? I-I didn't even feel my pants tear! Why didn't anyone tell me?" Leon gasped as he sat at home relaxing on his couch with a good meal. He had simply turned on the news for background noise only to find his rump plastered over every media outlet. "Wait... that red marker, RAIHAN!" He yelled his voice echoing with anger as he yelled for his rival recognizing his handy work for pranks like this.

[thedesignatedheroes]

“I knew that Allister wore a mask majority of the time, but he has over a hundred!?”

[askrockandfriends]

Open RP:

Who do you join for a journey with Pokemon?

[multiverse-muses]

”Did you ever regret the decisions you made?” - for Leon, from Hop!

*He didn’t know what brought on this conversation but Leon would take it seriously. After all he wasn’t only going to be speaking as a champion but as a brother as well.*

“I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t at least regret some of my decisions but these decisions wound up leading me to somewhere completely unexpected. Why do you ask, did something happen?”

[little-sw33tie]

I LOVE TRANS PEOPLE

I LOVE SKINNY TRANS PEOPLE

I LOVE FAT TRANS PEOPLE

I LOVE MUSCULAR TRANS PEOPLE

I LOVE DISABLED TRANS PEOPLE

I LOVE TRANS PEOPLE WHO DON’T OR WANT TO TAKE HORMONES

I LOVE TRANS PEOPLE WHO CAN’T TAKE HORMONES

I LOVE TRANS PEOPLE WHO TAKE HORMONES

I LOVE TRANS PEOPLE WHO HAVE AFFIRMING SURGERIES

I LOVE TRANS PEOPLE WHO DON’T WANT OR NEED AFFIRMING SURGERIES

I LOVE TRANS PEOPLE WHO CAN’T HAVE AFFIRMING SURGERIES

I LOVE TRANS PEOPLE THAT ARE APART OF SYSTEMS

I LOVE NON-HUMAN TRANS PEOPLE

I LOVE TRANS POC (THIS INCLUDES MIXED POC OF COURSE!)

I LOVE TRANS WOMEN

I LOVE TRANS MEN

I LOVE TRANS PEOPLE OUTSIDE THAT BINARY

I LOVE PEOPLE WHO CALL THEMSELVES TRANSEXUAL

I LOVE STRAIGHT TRANS PEOPLE

I LOVE GAY TRANS PEOPLE

I LOVE AROMANTIC SPECTRUM TRANS PEOPLE

I LOVE ASEXUAL SPECTRUM TRANS PEOPLE

I LOVE NEURODIVERGENT TRANS PEOPLE

I LOVE BEING TRANSEXUAL

I LOVE HOW DIFFERENT WE ALL ARE

I LOVE TRANS PEOPLE

[anininas]

Screenshot redraws because I'm being nice to myself today

[comatosebunny09]

kindle | leon k.

genre(s): romance, friends to lovers, modern au

warning(s): language, mutual pining, soft boi leon, stream of consciousness

Leon does these things that confuse the hell out of you while you’re on missions or around the office. You’re his partner—work partner—but sometimes you feel like a little more. More than the younger sibling caught beneath the shadow of an overbearing brother. 

You don’t really know where things are going because he’s made it glaringly obvious in the past that he doesn't mix work with pleasure. However, something’s clearly shifted in your relationship as of late. Yet, you can’t, for the life of you, pinpoint what it is or when it happened. 

Oftentimes, you catch him gazing at you in your peripheral, a fondness inhabiting his eyes like you’ve never seen with the slightest quirk to his lips. That softness remains when a battle-worn thumb swipes blood from your cheek or rubs grime from your jaw. 

Sometimes, he holds your chin between his fingers and tilts your head this way and that—much to your chagrin—to make sure you’re devoid of injuries. Though, you never miss how his irises glitter like the sunset against sea waves, and his lips part a little as he relinquishes the softest, most relieved sigh to the air. And sometimes, you stand like this for eons, confused yet enamored, until the wet garble of a zombie springs you two apart. 

You never miss how a cautious hand finds the small of your back while you’re hunched over paperwork at your desk. How it burns through the thickness of your blazer, causing your heart to work overtime. And Leon beams so boyishly, bowing over to swaddle you in his warmth and cologne as he quips how “you’ve got your work cut out for you.” Yet, as much as he hates filling out reports himself, he stays until the moon sits high in the sky to help you finish. 

He always walks you to your car afterwards, arguing that, shit yeah, you can handle yourself. You suplex the undead for a living. But he’d fling himself off a cliff if his dear partner got snatched up in the parking garage. And he always lingers around a little longer after you pull off, a tender smile cresting across his lips in your rearview mirror. 

But he’s your partner. He’s supposed to do things like that, right? 

Like, he’s supposed to bring you food when you forget to eat—which is quite often. He’s supposed to show up to your apartment to check on you on your days off, promising his company, booze, and terrible romcoms. Supposed to hold you in your bed until you surrender your consciousness to the pretty little girls of slumber. And maybe, just maybe, it’s standard for your partner to kiss you quietly behind your ear and embrace you tighter when you squirm and chuckle and sigh wistfully in your sleep.

Through the wispy haze and the grogginess and the darkness inhabiting your bedroom, you shift to gather his cheeks in your palms—maybe you’re awake. Perhaps you’re still lurking below the shadowy depths of sleep. Who knows—and you kiss him. Cautious, but you kiss him. And though he’s initially thrown off kilter by the suddenness of it all, he relaxes against the suppleness of your lips. And his brows furrow as if he’s waited millennia for this moment. And his throat crackles with a quieted, hoarse sound as his hands perch on your hips, drawing you ever closer until your wrists cross behind his neck, and—

And…

Well, this is totally normal. Right?

part 2 >>

[innovatorbunny]

jalter's gonna have some stiff competition against leon s kennedy for white woman of the year award

[choccy-sippy]

Been putting my printer to good use guys

[fat-slobby-hunks]

Unbeatable champion vs the returning warrior

They don't fight the two just go out for some dmax curry

[thedesignatedheroes]

“I think I’m in Paldea now...And I’m lost. Help? Please?”

[lovely-hikari-cosplay]

Abbacchio doodles because I felt like drawing but also did NOT feel like drawing

[askrockandfriends]

"What about sports? How good are either of you at those?"

Well... we both have sports we're good at and not so good at. I'd say it's an even score here.

Rock: 7 Mun: 5 Draw: 4

"Okay, well... how much do you two know about each other?"

"Let's see... your name is Raisuke Fukumoto, but everyone outside your hometown knows you as Rock. You're 19 years old and go to Homer J. Simpson High School, where your homeroom teacher is Mr. Kirishima. You live with your mother Hayami, father Kei, two younger sisters, one, 18, we know as Anzu, and the other, 2 at most, is Kotone, and your uncle Yori also lives with you. Hayami is a nurse while Kei is a repairman, and your uncle... well, he doesn't actually have any sort of job. You're in an underground J-rock band known as Smash Brothers with your childhood best friends Junichiro Koizumi and Makoto Yamada, whom you all call "Big Mac". The name of the band shares a video game theming with your stage name, as you're named after one of your mains in the game Smash Bros, Mega Man, aka Rock. Outside of school and the band, you also work at your father's shop, do extracurricular activities like martial arts, and just generally hang out with friends. Video games and manga are your two greatest interests outside of music, and you have an impressive collection of shonen manga over the years to go with the CD collection you got from your uncle. As for gaming, you own a GBC, GBA, DS, N64, Wii, Switch, PSP, and PS4. Your interests generally lie in the Nintendo and Playstation brands. That's just delving into your backstory, without getting into the main plot with Ken, Goh, and all that stuff."

"Sheesh, that's a lot to know about a person... if you weren't the blog's creator, I'd swear you were like a stalker or something. Okay, um... your name is Munatar, but you sometimes refer to yourself as ZM. Uhhh... that's about all I know. You, uh... run the blog? Shit... I'm drawing a total blank here!"

Rock: 7 Mun: 6 Draw: 4

[little-sw33tie]

I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my friends I adore my fri

[olligane]

haha i haven't used this account in so long. doodle dump time. mostly Dante Devilmaycry cause he's been on my mind. hugs and kisses.

[comatosebunny09]

untitled | leon k.

warnings: smut, loss of virginity, female reader, p in v, language, pet names, soft leon, stream of consciousness, short af

had this mashup on repeat, and i just couldn’t move past this imagery. thank you for reading, lovely. ❤️

He fills the space between your fingers with his, gentle and reassuring, rooting you to the mattress. 

Molten tears prick the corners of yours eyes, brows knit, lips parted with wet exhalations. He chases your tears with chaste kisses, whispering pillow-soft affirmations through the static of your ears.

Doing so good. Taking me so well. My pretty baby. Stay with me, okay?

He’s a hulking shadow of concern, balanced on muscly arms. Paints a pretty cutout of disheveled locks and startling blue eyes amid the room swathed in moonlight. Radiates a blistering warmth that singes your innards whilst sweat gathers on his temple, drip-dropping onto the ruffled sheets.

Breathlessly, he murmurs, “You alright, sweetheart?” Knows you’re not if the shallowness of your breath is anything to go by. If the wince of your eyes serves as any gauge. But you’re a big girl. Stubborn as all hell, but you manage a nod despite the pain coursing through your nether regions. 

His hips stutter as he tries to remain perfectly still. Your thighs shakily wound about his waist, and your heels digging into the divots of his back don’t help matters. But he’s a patient lover. Waited this long to have you. Ravage you. Split you in twain.

What are a few more moments in tortuous bliss?

Through the Gaussian blur of your vision, you know he’s trying his damnedest not to thrust further in. Not to dig a little deeper, spearing you with his delicious girth, dredging the most sinister of sounds from the bowels of your belly.

Your throat rumbles with a pathetic keen as you pulse around the head of his cock, drawing a wet hiss from swollen lips. His forehead finds the curve of your shoulder. He pants there. Fights a battle within, wrapped in the luxury of your womanhood.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, allowing the weight of his torso to anchor yours down. “Keep sucking me in like that, and I won’t be able to last.”