#fake body

[malekyla-001]

Neil and Andrew spend time together, but Kevin is always nearby and watching Exy

[2bun22]

⌕ bun is thinking of . . . braiding gunners hair ݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆

cw .ᐟ weed, foul language, established relationship

wc .ᐟ 1k

a sharp hiss cut through the room, followed by the sharp snap of the rubber band in your hand. “sssshit, ma, you gotta pull that hard?” gunner whined from where he sat cross-legged between your thighs on the floor of your shared apartment’s living room. some south park rerun flickered across the tv behind him, casting blue light over the side of his face while the dialogue droned on as white noise.

you rolled your eyes at his bratty attitude, fingers already going back to parting through his thin ass hair. you’d told him like five times already to quit moving around, but he kept twitching every few seconds like he had ants crawling up his jeans. with how much he kept jerking his head away every time you tried to section his hair, he was lucky the rubber band snapping his scalp was the worst thing happening to him.

“then sit still,” you muttered, giving the section in your hand another tug just to hear him complain under his breath again. sure enough he huffed but didn’t move from where he’d been resting his temple against the warm skin of your inner thigh, tongue peeking past rosy lips as he carefully packed the pink sparkly bowl, the words ‘sativa slut’ printed on the side in gold font (yours, obviously) with the result of his repeated efforts of grinding his own bud.

he finally got the lighter to catch after a few stubborn tries, brows drawn together in that soft, concentrated way you always pretended not to find endearing. the bowl cracked to life under the flame, pink rhinestones blinking stupidly pretty in the low bedroom light like they knew they were being watched. like they knew they were yours.

he took a slow pull, shoulders dropping the second it hit, all that tension melting out of him in real time while your fingers kept working through his hair. section by section, careful, patient, like you had nowhere else to be. your nails skimmed his scalp every so often just to feel the way he reacted, quiet hums, little shifts closer into your touch.

“don’t make it uneven,” he muttered around the exhale, voice roughened into something soft and lazy. he tipped his head back against your stomach anyway, like he trusted you more than his own complaint. the braid already hung over his shoulder, a little messy from how often he kept moving for “one more hit,” like you weren’t literally mid-assembly.

“i told your ass to stay still, green,” you murmured, teeth catching on a micro band as you pulled it from your lips, fingers nudging his head back into place with gentle insistence. he rolled his eyes at the use of his middlename like it didn’t make something warm flicker behind them, but he still went still for you, sighing dramatically as you smoothed another section down.

“yes, ma’am,” he said quietly, too sweet to be serious. then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he tilted the pink princess bowl toward you without even looking at your face. “here, babe.”

you paused mid-braid. he didn’t move this time. just waited, patient in that absentminded way of his, thumb still resting against the lighter like he forgot he was holding anything at all. his bracelets clicked softly when he adjusted his grip, rhinestones catching on the shift of light as you finally reached for it.

when your fingers brushed his, he didn’t let go right away. just lingered there a second too long, like he liked the contact more than he was willing to admit, before letting his hand fall back into his lap with a lazy exhale.

you settled back into the pillows, braid half-finished over his shoulder, the bowl warm in your hand from him. it still carried that faint mix of burnt flower and your lip balm on the rim, the same lip balm he’d swiped from your purse thinking you hadn’t noticed. behind you, he leaned back again, compliant this time, letting you have your space. his fingers traced slow, idle patterns against your thigh while he watched you bring it to your lips like it was something holy.

he always looked at you like that. like you were the only thing happening in the room, the only thing worthy and deserving of his undivided attention at all times. you flicked the lighter, shielding the flame with your hand, and inhaled. the ember bloomed orange in the glass reflection, and his gaze followed it, slow, heavy-lidded, softened in a way that made your chest tighten a little without warning.

he didn’t look away when you exhaled either. just tracked the smoke as it curled from your mouth in thin, drifting lines, like it belonged to him as much as it did to you.

“pretty,” he murmured, barely audible.

you scoffed softly through the haze, but he was already sitting up a little, chin resting against your thigh now like gravity had decided that was his place. “c’mere,” he added, quieter this time, hand finding your wrist with an easy familiarity that made it impossible to argue.

you leaned in. this time, when you took the hit, you didn’t just hold it in. you tilted forward, close enough that he could feel your breath before you let it go, slow, deliberate, right into his mouth. he inhaled instinctively, eyes fluttering shut like it hit him somewhere deeper than it should’ve. his hand slid from your wrist to your neck like it already knew the path, thumb resting there for a second before he gently pulled you in.

the kiss came easy.

lazy, unhurried, like neither of you had anywhere else to be. the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his lips against yours, and the faint taste of mint. smoke lingered between you in soft, fading warmth, caught in the space where your mouths met again, slower this time, like he was trying to memorize the shape of it.

somewhere in the mess of it, the lighter slipped from your hand into the comforter and neither of you noticed. when you finally broke apart, he stayed close, forehead resting against yours, smiling like he’d won the lottery.

“you still never finished my hair.” he murmured against your lips. you rolled your eyes, shoving his face away playfully, “shut up.”

navi. ← | ⦸

an: something a little different 0-0 i’ve never smoked weed b4 or packed a bowl so if this is like ass pls don’t say anything LMAOOOO anyways i’ve been brainrotting over nettpigtails so i wrote this at 8am, i think im gonna make a perm taglist moving forward…so everyone tagged on here issss going to be apart of that (you have no choice) and i’ll do my best to add people per request!!!

taglist: @jjscoquette @swagonometryfr @hollisedd @natesibsdih @princesspiaa @angelbbyunicorn @luvvconceal @kingoveverything @missmodelsexx @qiyokuliife @sweet2sin @takiimuncher @yallnotogso @unicornfairysparkle69 @2alt @honeyperched

[robin-therobber]

fem klance

[godsavethedevil]

The Head Archivist Jonathan Sims

[itshazelyy]

Im touch starved >^<

(Please tumblr imma behave...)

[ksyyy505]

johndoe

[bloodrrevenge]

Jeff da killer!!!!

[loan0u]

This drawing depicted one of the RE9 ending and the life in general of Leon, feel free to have your own interpretation, but I just want to let you know that this drawing is more or like a bad dream, a nightmare, something that never happened.