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tongue-like-a-razor · 22 days

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Brother's Best Friend - Part 12

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Trying to get back into these two. Did we miss them?

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: mild angst, swearing, fluff

WC: 2600+

Part 1 | Masterlist

“So…” Jake pauses and purses his lips to suppress a mischievous smile. “When did you start liking me?”

You look down at your lap where his head has been resting for the last five minutes. “Did I tell you I like you?”

Jake meets your gaze and snorts. He reaches up to take your hand off the keyboard of your laptop and brings it down over his chest. “Indirectly,” he admits.

You roll your eyes, recalling when you had expressed to Bradley – in Jake’s presence – how ‘your guy’ makes you feel. You pull your hand out of his grasp and look back up at the screen in front of you. “I have to work, Jake.”

“You’re too hardworking,” Jake responds with a whine.

You shake your head with a grin. “Such a dreadful habit, I know. I’m working on it – wait. Damn, I see what you mean –”

Jake starts chuckling and his head tickles your bare thighs. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You press your lips together as your smile broadens. “When did you start liking me?” you ask.

Jake releases a heavy sigh and sits up. “Alright, enough chitchat. Get to work.”

You watch him rise to his feet and make his way into the kitchen, curious why he so abruptly decided to change the subject. “Got any plans this weekend?” you ask casually, wondering if he’ll finally ask you out on a date. The two of you have been sneaking around for a while, but your only outings together have been with Bradley, so you couldn’t even hold hands. Thus far, you’ve assumed that Jake is just waiting for the right moment to speak with Bradley before the two of you make your relationship official but, as time goes on, you become increasingly skeptical that Jake actually intends to come clean.

Jake shrugs. “Not really. Just hangin’ with your bro.”

You try your best not to frown. “Sounds fun.”

Jake walks back over to you and sets a bowl of strawberries on the table by your laptop. You glance up at him inquisitively and he responds with, “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

You give him a smile. “Neither have you.”

He nods. “Which is how I know you’re hungry.”

“Thanks,” you say. “As soon as I’m through with this part, I’ll move all this shit and we can have some lunch.” You gesture at the pile of literature currently cluttering your workspace.

Jake takes a seat adjacent to you at the table and lets out another sigh. “I don’t know,” he says.

You shift your gaze from your computer to look in his direction. “Don’t know what? If you want lunch?” You pick up a strawberry and pop it into your mouth.

Jake is observing you carefully and you stop chewing because the attention makes you uncomfortable. “I don’t know when…” he says, pausing as though he isn’t sure how to continue. “When, uh… I don’t know at what point” – he exhales sharply – “I have no clue when I f – when I started to see you as more than just Bradley’s sister. As more than a friend.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, your mouth still full of half-chewed strawberry.

“I think I just realized, at one point, that I’d rather spend time with you than with anyone else,” he admits.

You finish chewing awkwardly before responding with, “Huh.”

Jake stares at you expectantly, as though you should have something to add.

But you’re not really sure what to say. You’ve been crushing on Jake for an embarrassingly long time and he does not have clearance for that kind of classified intel, especially since his interest in you is far more recent. What does he want, anyway? A pat on the back for finally figuring it out?

“Your turn,” he says, clearing his throat and leaning back in his chair with an air of confidence.

You purse your lips as though you’re in thought. “Not sure,” you say vaguely.

Jake narrows his eyes. “Not sure? Or don’t want to say?”

You meet his gaze tentatively. “I probably liked you before you liked me.”

Jake watches you with a slight grin. “In that case, you were very good at hiding it.”

…

You arrive at the pub already slightly tipsy after pre-drinking at your friend’s house. In fact, you’re drunk enough to not give two shits that Jake has, once again, decided to spend his Saturday night with Bradley. This time, he didn’t even invite you along.

Once inside, you head straight for the bar; no sense in wasting time waiting for a table. You grab a drink and take a look around the crowded establishment. That’s when you see him.

Jake fucking Seresin is sitting at a table near the back – not with your brother. You stare at him – and his female companion – in horror for a few moments, letting the scene sink in. Wondering if you’re in the wrong for being shocked. Are the two of you even exclusive? This has never actually been discussed. But one thing is certain: Jake lied, which makes you sick to your stomach.

You slide off your barstool and, cocktail in hand, you make your way to the little table in the back where your supposed boyfriend – or whatever he is – sits entertaining another woman. It’s not long before Jake notices your presence because you’re making quite a spectacle on your way over as you furiously skirt every person in your path.

Jake looks uncomfortable and that satisfies you greatly. “Hey,” he says when you arrive.

You gape at him. “Hey?” you exclaim in outrage.

“Uh,” Jake stalls for a moment. He turns to his date and says, “This is Bradley’s sister.”

The woman opposite Jake smiles at you but you’re too busy glaring at Jake to acknowledge her. “That’s all you want to say about me?”

Jake watches you pointedly. “What else do you want me to say about you?” He looks back at his date and lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Seresin?” you shriek, slamming your stemmed glass onto their table so aggressively that your sour apple martini splashes over the rim.

Jake jerks back to avoid getting wet and then looks up at you in alarm. “What’s the matter with you?”

You shake your head at him in disappointment and then turn abruptly to leave. You expect Jake to grab your hand, or follow you out, but he does neither. In fact, you make it all the way back to the bar before you realize that Jake is not even looking in your direction. You see him laughing together with his female friend, as though they both just witnessed something absurd and worthy of repeating in the future for a good chuckle.

“Hey, isn’t that your brother’s aviator buddy?” your friend says, nodding toward the back of the pub.

You roll your eyes and then turn toward the bar, realizing you left your drink at Jake’s table.

“He’s kind of hot,” you friend continues. “But he’s got fuckboy written all over him.”

You close your eyes and sigh. You have nobody to blame but yourself. You know Jake. What in the world made you think he would become a different person if he were with you?

…

The following day, you wake up past noon with a debilitating migraine. You hear Bradley and Jake’s voices drift up from the kitchen and groan. You’re not in the mood to face Jake after the events of the previous evening. You ended up going home shortly after confronting him and you have no idea where he ended up. Probably in bed, and probably not alone.

You get dressed unhurriedly, dizzy from the pain and, on your way downstairs, you grip the banister tightly just in case. The kitchen is excruciatingly bright, and you cringe upon entering, shielding your face from the open window like a vampire.

“Oh, hey sleepyhead!” your brother greets you.

You grunt in response and head straight for the coffee pot. “Is this fresh?” you ask.

“Nope!” Bradley replies cheerily.

You pour yourself a mug anyway and put it in the microwave, turning to face the two of them while your coffee warms.

Jake meets your gaze with a stoic expression.

“How was your night?” Bradley asks with a grin, clearly seeing that you’re hungover.

“Fine,” you say monotonously.

Bradley raises his eyebrows. “It’s the enthusiasm for me,” he says with a smirk, looking over at Jake.

Jake, however, ignores him and grabs his jacket from the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “You ’bout ready, Bradshaw? I ain’t got all day.”

“Alright, alright,” Bradley says. “Let me get my stuff.”

Bradley jogs over to the staircase and runs up to grab his duffel bag. Meanwhile, you are deliberately avoiding Jake’s gaze as you lean your back into the kitchen counter. Jake stuffs his hands into his pockets and is also not looking at you. When Bradley returns a few minutes later, disrupting the silence with a melodic whistling, the two of you have not moved an inch from where you’d been standing when he left. Even though the microwave has beeped at you twice.

“What’s with you two?” he asks, pausing in the doorway.

“Nothing,” Jake responds curtly. “Let’s go.”

Bradley glances between the two of you. “Okay,” he says slowly, his gaze lingering on you in particular. “See you later, sis,” he says.

You wave a distracted hand in his direction and head for the couch with your coffee, nearly bumping into Jake as you cross paths because neither of you is looking at the other.

“Sorry,” Jake mutters, stepping aside to let you pass. His hand goes up instinctively to guide you but he catches himself before letting it rest on your arm.

“It’s fine,” you say, wavering slightly on the spot. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and press a couple of fingers into your temple.

“You okay?” he asks, his eyebrows converging as he tries to catch your gaze.

“I said I’m fine.” You sigh, trying to walk around him.

“Seresin, you coming, or what?” Bradley calls from the foyer.

Jake hesitates as you finally pass him, and then yells back. “I’ll meet you there!”

Bradley waits a moment as though he’s still trying to figure out what’s going on. Then you hear the front door open and Bradley shout, “Don’t be late!” as he exits the house.

Jake trails after you into the living room and, when you lower yourself onto the couch, he crouches down in front of you, placing a hand on your knee. “Migraine?” he asks.

You nod slowly so as not to exacerbate the pain.

Jake’s hand gives your leg a soft squeeze. “Have you eaten?”

You cringe. “Please don’t talk to me about food right now,” you beg.

“Did you take anything?”

You shake your head. “I’m out.”

Jake gets to his feet. “I’ll go pick up some meds for you,” he says.

You glance up at him miserably. “You’re going to be late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he responds, already on his way out.

…

Jake returns not ten minutes later with your medication and a bag full of snacks. “I heard dark chocolate is good for migraines,” he says, holding out a block for you as you swallow your pills.

“I’m not hungry, Jake,” you say weakly, closing your eyes and lying back down on the couch.

Jake sighs, sitting down on the floor beside you and starting to unwrap the chocolate. “You need to eat something,” he says, breaking off a piece. “I also have gummy worms and popcorn.”

You open your eyes. “I love gummy worms,” you whisper.

Jake grins. “I know,” he whispers back.

You take the chocolate square from his hand and he busies himself with opening the bag of gummy worms while you let the chocolate melt in your mouth. A moment later, he hands you a gummy worm and you stick it between your teeth and bite. “Oh my god, it’s so good,” you moan. The motion of chewing helps alleviate some of the pain in your temple and you sigh blissfully, closing your eyes.

Jake leans his back into the wall adjacent the couch and pops a gummy worm into his mouth. For a while, the two of you sit in silence. Then, he says, “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” you say.

Jake shakes his head and you can sense his irritation without even looking at him. “This isn’t going to work if you don’t trust me.”

You turn to give him a flat look. “Would you trust you, Seresin?”

Jake squares his jaw. “I have never given you a reason not to trust me.”

“You lied to me! You said you were meeting Bradley!”

“I was! He was running late.”

You watch him sourly. “And you just happened to pick up a girl while you were waiting?”

Jake returns your bitter glare. “Is that actually what you think?”

“I don’t know what to think,” you say, sitting upright to look him in the eye. “You weren't exactly forthcoming with an explanation.”

Jake sets the gummy worms on the couch and gets to his feet. “The girl was there for Bradley. He was running late. End of story.”

“You couldn’t tell me that yesterday?”

“She’s seeing Bradley! And he doesn’t know about us. It’s not like I can say, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m actually dating your boyfriend’s little sister and that’s why she’s acting like a nutcase. Brb.’”

You fold your arms, sulking. Did you consider the possibility that the woman Jake was sitting with wasn’t his date? Briefly. But you were already annoyed with Jake and that, combined with your less than sober state, was apparently a recipe for disaster. “I guess I don’t trust you,” you say with a shrug, even though this statement isn’t altogether true.

Jake places his hands on his hips, exhaling slowly. “Why?” he asks, sounding exasperated.

You stay silent and continue to brood.

Jake pinches the bridge of his nose and grimaces as though this conversation is wearing him out. Then, he lets out another sigh and crouches before you again, trying to catch your gaze as he places his hands in your lap, palms up. “Why?” he asks calmly, waiting for you to join hands with him.

You do. “Well, why would I?” you say quietly, hesitating before you continue. “What is this, even? What are we? Do you know? Because I don’t.”

Jake’s eyebrows knit together. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, why haven’t you told Bradley yet? Is it because you’re not sure you want to make this official? Is it because it’s just a fling so why bother?” You cringe inwardly, hating how insecure you sound.

Jake stares at you in wonder, as though this line of thinking has never even crossed his mind.

“Like, are we even exclusive?”

Jake’s eyes widen and he blinks at you in awe. “We fucking better be,” he retorts, his hold on your hands tightening slightly.

“Well, how would I know that?” you exclaim.

Jake brings his hands up to his face and rubs his eyes. “Jesus fuck, how would you not know that?”

You scoff at him. “Because you’ve never once been in an exclusive relationship! Not while I’ve known you, anyway. Do you even know how?”

Jake’s hands slide down his face and stay over his mouth as he gapes at you. When his hands finally drop back into your lap, you can see that he’s got a small smile on his face. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he says finally.

You lower your gaze, not exactly comforted considering he still has not addressed your main concern: Bradley.

Jake stands up and pulls you up off the couch. He puts his arms around you and you rest your head against one of his giant shoulders, allowing him to cradle you lovingly.

“Why haven’t you told Bradley?” you mutter into his shirt.

Jake pulls away from you and runs a hand through his hair uneasily. “I’m scared, Baby B,” he admits. “I’m scared he’s gonna make me choose.”

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A/N: The rest of the list will be in the comments. As always, let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

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734 notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 3 months

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Sunshine!Reader just adores rafe. like i imagine she’s a friend of sarah who has always had a crush on her cool older brother, following him around and watching his every move cs she’s so obsessed with him x rafe who is nonchalant at his very core & basically just ignores her presence even when she’s practically hanging off his arm & living in his skin. “Why is it that everytime i turn around, you’re there?” he just raises his eyebrow at her. “i’m not your friend, kid.” - 🍄

no bc im salivating …….. hang on let me cook

₊˚🦢✩ 🎀⊹☁️♡

sunshine!reader who’s always at the cameron home because her home life is bad— more specifically, daddy issues !! it’s a wonder how you’re so sweet n happy toward the people around you when you’re being treated so poorly!

you follow rafe around like a lost puppy, because duh — his nonchalance hurts you in all the right ways that just makes you crave his attention more, a product of your bad relationship with your father. you’re over at tannyhill more and more, increasingly without sarah being there as she starts a life with the pogues— but you don’t mind, happy anywhere as long as you’re not at home.

“are you goin’ anywhere today rafe? can i come?” you seemingly pop out of nowhere in the kitchen, startling him as he closes the fridge— clutching his chest for effect.

“jesus, why is it everytime i turn around you’re there? ‘you ever go n’hang around at your own house or what?” he busies himself, carrying a carton of juice in one hand and moving you out the way with the other as he passes.

“i prefer to be here! hanging out with you!” you chirp and he stops in the doorway, turning to look at you.

“kid, i’m not your friend. a’ight?” he drawls before heading out, the same time his father is entering the room. ward sends you a sympathetic look before he’s trailing after rafe.

“son you gotta be nice to the girl. i didn’t raise you like that.” he nags, speeding up to walk in time with the younger man.

“why? she’s practically living rent free here, should be able to talk to her how i want.” rafe complains, uncapping the carton and taking a swig.

“her home life, it’s not great.” he lowers his voice, swivelling his head round to make sure you weren’t lurking. “she’s — she’s sarah’s friend. i’m taking pity on her, think her dad doesn’t treat her all too well.” he rambles and rafes movements slow to stop, eyes trailing up to meet his fathers, suddenly attentive.

“huh.” he speaks, sinister intrigue occupying his gaze which his father barely picked up on. he continued speaking but rafe had heard all he needed to hear, concocting ways to use this to his advantage.

the opportunity presented itself sooner than he was expecting once he’d got you backed up against the wall in the hallway a few days later, practically pinning you there.

“you— you know it’s time you start respecting me if you wanna be hangin’ out around here. especially now my dads on his trip. i’m older than you, the man of the house now and — and that means you answer to me.” he drawls, quiet and intimate— so close his breath warms your face as you blink up at him.

“i do listen to you rafe.” you chime, losing a little bit of pep in your step under his intimidating gaze. you knew something was up, but you couldn’t help but melt — finally feeling like rafe gave a shit about you. that he was going to save you.

“wanna see you actin’ like it from now on… you know i realised,” his finger comes to his temple, lightly tapping. “you’re missin’ something. someone to guide you. an authority figure… ‘nd it must be your lucky day ‘cus i can be just that. you’ll… be in good hands.” he now drags his finger lightly down the side of your face, scooping round to beneath your chin to lift it.

“i thought you said you didn’t wanna be my friend.” you whisper, eyes flickering between his mouth and his eyes, the proximity tempting.

“didn’t say we would be friends… i was thinking something a little more… hands on.” his drops his voice to a mere whisper, hovering his lips right over yours. you give in to the urge, craning up and pressing your lips against his, which he lets slide for maybe two seconds — before drawing back and slapping you, grabbing your jaw instantly to bring your gaze back.

you gasp, tears springing to your eyes, usual smile wiped from your expression even more so now. “you don’t… you don’t do that without my permission. alright? i said you answer to me now.” he grits his teeth, squeezing your jaw just a little harder making your brows furrow in fear.

he ends up not being too mean on you, especially when you’re later cumming around his cock, the oldest cameron forcing you to call him ‘dad’ whilst you do so.

₊˚🦢✩ 🎀⊹☁️♡

#🍄 anon #rafe cameron prompt #tw impact play #tw fauxcest #kind of

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jinuaei · 7 days

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I can offer you an idea of yandere alastor.. What would it be like if alastor as a child knew the reader... Like I imagine alastor as a child not knowing how to act properly like a human, and the reader as a good best friend helping him seems more human (and not because the child reader is scared of him) ... Actually, what would happen?

Wrote this instead of working on my finals hope you enjoyed it!

Yandere! Alastor x Childhood friend! Reader

Warning: Animal death, blood, its YANDERE

WC: ~1.5k

Charlie dragged the whole hotel for another ‘trust’ session, this time, she had the great idea for the sinners to share stories from when they were alive. Granted, some of them were eager to share, namely Nifty and Angel Dust, Husk would share some here or there, although it's mostly due to Charlie and Angel pushing him to. Alastor on the other hand kept quiet during the whole ordeal, until the topic of childhood friends came up.

“I had a childhood friend once, such a sweetheart. Wouldn't leave me alone to play with others!,” Alastor let the statement linger in the air, casually sipping on his coffee.

The other members of the Hotel look aat him with mouths agape, shocked and surprised at the fact that THE Alastor, Radio Demon, Dealmaker, HAD FRIENDS? Moreover, a childhood friend?? Someone stayed friends with him since they were children???

“Don't look at me like I am incapable of having proper friendships, and no, you cannot ask them about me as a child because they're simply not a sinner! Oh imagine my disappointment when I didn't find them down here,” his eyes glazed over in slight rage as he thought about how you weren't here.

Very disappointing that I will never be able to hold my beloved again. What I would do to be able to chain them to my side once more…

“Well don't leave us hangin’, whose this sweetheart of you’s?,” the white spider interjected.

He tells them your name, sighing dreamily as he starts to reminisce about the times you were together when you were children.

You were the child of one of his momma's clients, a bubbly little thing, always eager to play with him regardless of how cold he is to you.

His momma was your family's personal tailor, and by God were you a spoiled little thing. Every week you would ask for 2-3 outfits to be created for you, although it looked more like costumes than everyday wear but he doesn't complain, as long as your family treated him and his momma with respect.

Nonetheless, he refuses to be close to you, considering you as a bother, but of course, he would never admit that to you, lest he wants his momma to get in trouble.

He hasn't always looked forward to when his momma brings him to your house, namely due to you clinging to him every time you meet. There's one thing in your mansion that he’s quite fond of though, once he manages to escape from your grasp, he sneaks into the woods behind your house, gazing at all the wildlife roaming around your property.

One time, he found an injured bird crying close to him, it tried to get away from him but he eventually caught it in a tight grip, it chirped and cried but Alastor just gripped tighter and tighter until, pop!

Blood trailed down his hands and onto the forest floor below, unbeknownst to him, he had a huge grin on his face, too pleased with the mutilation of the poor bird. A gasp resonates behind him and he quickly drops the bird, face stilling at the fact that he got caught.

When he turned his body to you, your eyes were full of tears staring at his hands that he didn't bother to hide. He prepared himself to hunt you down to make sure you wouldn't tattle on his momma but your next words made him stop in place.

“Are you okay???” you rushed to his side, pulling out a handkerchief and started to wipe off the blood coating his stained hand.

In response, the child looked at you aghast, stupefied at the concern you were showing, marking yourself vulnerable to the predator towering over your much shorter build. He could kill you if he could, he can lie and tell your parents that a bear found both of you and killed you, that he tried to save you but was unable to. But then again… as you fret over him, a thought passes through his mind.

You are too kind for your own good, just like momma. Don't worry I’ll protect you.

Alastor raises the now somewhat clean hand, and he notes how you didn't even flinch at it, and just looked at him with your wide, innocent eyes. The hand lowers to pat you on the head, ruffling your hair a little bit.

“I am fine, I tried to save a bird but it was too hurt to be saved,” he shows off the bird, face devoid of any emotions.

You frowned at it and suddenly went on your knees and started digging a grave with your hands.

Alastor furrowed his eyebrows and questioned what you were doing, you responded with, “I’m digging a grave for the birdie, I don't want them to die without a proper burial.”

The boy helped you after a few moments of silence. Once you were done, you clasped your hands together, covered in dirt and blood, silently looking at him to do the same. Look at you, as a child of a rich man you shouldn't be on your knees covering yourself in filth, but perhaps he should indulge his angel for a little bit.

As you started praying he couldn't help but let the bitterness consume his mind. God wouldn't care about frivolous things like this, prayers do nothing, if it did, how come he and his momma are still at the mercy of that monster of a man he calls his father?

“Amen.”

You offer your filthy hand to him, gazing at him with a smile that could rival the sun. Perhaps the only good thing that God has done, is sending down an angel for him to play with.

“You should smile more, you look very pretty,” he raises an eyebrow at that, startled by your bluntness. Admittedly, he can feel himself flush at your compliment.

“Do you like it when I smile?” he hums, taking your hand. Both of you started to walk back to your manor.

“I do! Mommy always said ‘you’re never fully dressed without a smile’ and that's why I always smile!”

“Then I'll smile a lot for you,” he tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

“You're doing it wrong! It's like this,” you show off your smile, toothy and wide.

He tries again and ultimately fails, you pout at him cutely when he failed, and he couldn't help but smile, genuinely smile at that. In response you shout out ‘like that!’, and start vibrating in excitement that you managed to make him smile.

It was almost nightfall when you eventually managed to get home safely, albeit covered in dirt and grime. What greeted you both were your father, stressed beyond belief, and his mother, on the verge of tears. They both rushed to you guys and hugged the both of you, fretting and scolding at how worried they are, they asked you and Alastor what happened and you, being the loudmouth you are, told them the story that you know.

Both adults are relieved to hear that you both are safe, they rushed you to clean yourselves up. Ever since then, Alastor has been looking forward to every visit they had to your house. And every single visit has been a learning moment for him, day by day he learns what you like and what you don't like.

You like gentlemen? The next time you meet, he offers you his arm to hold. Do you like poetry? He memorizes your favourite poems to recite whenever you're bored. Do you like food and cooking? He begs his momma to teach him her infamous Jambalaya and other comfort foods to cook for you.

Alastor molded himself to become your ideal man, the most perfect gentleman that ever existed in your life. But then…

“Then what...? But then what??” Angel exclaimed when Alastor trailed off with a cliffhanger. Everyone leaned towards him, captivated by the story he shared. He smiles cryptically, but still doesn't respond.

“Oh well, it seems like it's almost supper time, I should work on it, wouldn't want to be late for dinner hmm?”

Everyone collectively groaned at the cliffhanger, they wanted to know what happened after, but they couldn't complain much lest they want to be part of Alastor's radio broadcast.

Alastor turns away from them, humming to himself as he walks towards where the kitchen is.

But then you had to die as a saint. You had to marry that disgusting excuse of a man you called your husband, and now he killed you. My beloved, was I not enough? Was I not perfect for you? You would have been safe if you were with me… Don't worry, I made sure that ‘husband’ of yours regretted ever hurting you. May this be an offering to my angel.

A haunting scream pierces through hell, amplified by the speakers scattered around the pride ring.

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#yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #yandere alastor x reader #yandere alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you #Hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel

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thebearer · 8 months

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autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: target, halloween, carmen, and you. or a short, fluffy work about halloween shopping with target bc why not? 'tis the season.

contains: fluff. that's it lol. mentions to past family memories and some insecure carmen, but honestly just fluff!

“Oh, look at this one!” You coo, snatching the tiny ghost figurine off the shelf.

“Cute.” Carmen muttered, one hand on the obnoxiously red cart, the other on your lower back. “Put it in.” He nodded towards the cart that was slowly starting to fill up.

The speakers droned out some dull pop song, your coffee and his melting away in the drink carriers on the cart. Carmen didn’t usually prefer Starbucks, much more of a fan of the local coffee spot a block over from The Bear. They knew his regular, made it for him as soon as he walked in. No fuss, no forced conversation- just the way he liked it.

But you liked Starbucks, well, in the right circumstance. You liked going to Target, you liked having a coffee to sip on while you “browsed”. Browsed, Carmen had grinned when you told him that.

“You don’t just go out and browse sometimes? Look at things? Window shop to make yourself feel happier?” You’d asked him earlier in the car, head tilting to the side.

“No, baby. I, uh, I don’t.” Carmen looked over at you, his hand still holding yours in the center console. “But maybe you’re onto somethin’.”

Carmen’s lack of decorations was deemed a crime in your eyes, which inspired the trip. Halloween trinkets filling the cart, the sly smile you’d give him when you’d slip another one in, just like you were doing now.

“It’s my treat.” You’d remind him, with a little wink. Carmen let you think that. Like he’d ever let you pay. And miss out on a chance to spoil you? No way.

“Where’re you gonna put all this?” Carmen hummed, watching you situate the tiny ghost next to the plastic cauldron and iridescent ornaments- something you saw on TikTok that you were going to attempt to DIY. “My place isn’t that big.”

“I’ll find a place, don’t worry.” You hum, sliding back in beside him, swiping your cup out of the basket. “You’ve got a bathroom, and the kitchen, and the bedroom-”

“-Bedroom?” Carmen grinned lightly, his hand snaking to your waist while his free hand pushed the cart. “You gonna put this creepy shit in there?”

“It’s not creepy.” You huff at him. “It’s cute, festive. Makes the place feel more… homey.”

Carmen decided then, he’d let you put a full fucking skeleton in his room if it made you feel that way. He’d get rid of all his shit, didn’t need it anyways, so you’d have room for all your holiday stuff. Carmen’s heart fluttered at the thought of what Christmas would look like. Would you put up a tree? He hoped you would. He’d go and chop one down if he had to. Where in Chicago he’d find a tree? He wasn’t sure, but he’d find one for you. If it made you as happy as this did.

“Ok,” You pulled him out of his thoughts, stopping the cart lightly. You plucked the bright orange bag up. “Did you know these are my absolute weakness?” Pumpkin shaped Reese’s, in their bright orange and purple glory.

“Yeah?” Carmen grinned. “This is it, huh?”

“Yes, in any shape too. But I prefer the pumpkin.” You went to set it back, Carmen’s hand grabbing the bag lightly and putting it in the cart.

“‘M more of a Christmas Tree fan.” Carmen shrugged. “You know Cicero- uh, Jimmy-” You nodded, slipping back into his side. “He, uh, he used to bring a bag of these to Christmas every year when I was little. He’d always have to hide ‘em, ya know? My dad… My dad didn’t want us havin’ all that sugar before dinner. Jimmy would come in where all the kids were, toss ‘em to me or Mikey or Richie when he started hangin’ around. Tell us not to get caught, and Merry Christmas, and hide the evidence. We’d eat them before goin’ to Mass, and he did it every year until I got in high school.”

You smiled softly, hand sliding down his back. “That’s sweet.” You hum, squeezing his hip lovingly. “You should get him some for Christmas this year. Return the favor.”

“Yeah,” Carmen scoffed lightly. “Yeah, I think he’d like that.”

A silence fell between the two of you, chatter from the surrounding people, the scratchy-screech of the cart. Carmen’s heart hammered, mind racing. Why the fuck did you tell her that? Fuckin’ ruined the moment. Stupid, fuckin’ stupid.

“Hey, uh,” Carmen’s hands shook lightly, fingers drumming on the red plastic over the cart. “I-I didn’t mean to… ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to say all that, ya know? Ruin the-the… I just, I dunno, you said that and-and I-”

“-What?” You asked softly, brows creasing lightly. “What are you talking about? Say what?”

“The, uh, the thing with Jimmy. I-I didn’t mean to make it awkward-”

“Why is it awkward?” You pressed, setting down the candle you were smelling. “I thought it was sweet.”

“Yeah? I-I just… I dunno why I said it, I’m sorry.” Carmen rambled, a hand falling over his face, hoping you couldn’t see the blush growing over his face.

“Don’t be sorry, Carm. There’s nothin’ to be sorry about.” You shook your head, waving him off. “It’s a sweet story. I like that you told me that.”

“Yeah?” Carmen asked softly.

You nodded, smiling at him. “You know I do, bear.” The nickname rolls off your tongue so effortlessly, calmly- Carmen’s sure he’s going to melt into the floor.

“Here,” You twist the lid off the next candle. “This one has caramel. You like that, right?”

Carmen wasn’t sure how you remembered that. He’d mentioned it once, in passing, that he liked whatever you were burning at your apartment when he was over. It was caramel and coffee, you’d remembered, because you showed up at his house with the same candle the next day. A love present, you’d called it, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You didn’t want anything in return, no strings, just buying him something because you wanted to; because he liked it. It was still a new concept to Carmen, how you could love him without wanting anything other than love in return.

Carmen ducked down, the brim of his hat bumping your wrist lightly. “Yeah, I like that one.” He nods. “Smells like that other one.”

“Yeah? Not too pumpkinny?” You tilt your head to the side.

“No.” Carmen laughs, breathy and light. “I don’t smell any pumpkin. Is there pumpkin?”

“Caramel Pumpkin Latte.” You tilt the label towards him. “They’re saying it’s in there.” Carmen hummed lightly. “You calling them a liar?” You giggle playfully.

“No, but I am sayin’ there’s not pumpkin in there.” Carmen snorted lightly, putting the candle in the cart anyways. “Not real pumpkin, anyways.”

“Maybe if this chef thing doesn’t work out, you could be a candle critic.” You tease, falling into slow steps beside him. “Be a candle blogger or something.”

“Candle blogger?” Carmen repeats with an amused smile. “That’s not real.”

You look at him, eyes wide in excitement. “Oh, Berzatto, am I about to blow your mind.”

“No? Really?” Carmen laughed. “You’re fuckin’ with me?”

“No! It’s a real thing, Carmen.” You laugh, pulling out your phone. “There was this woman that, like, went viral because she was going insane about Bath and Body Works not having her candle or something.” You giggle, typing slowly in the search bar.

“That’s fuckin’ insane.” Carmen rolled his eyes.

“Yeah.” You smirk. “Think she might’ve started a trend.”

“Well, can’t do that then.” Carmen shrugged, loading the items on the small platform at the self checkout. “Don’t wanna go up against her, baby. She’s intense.”

“Yeah, good call.” You grin, pocketing your phone, opening the bags while he scanned the ghost. “Guess you’ll have to stick to cooking.”

“Guess so.” Carmen muttered, putting the plush pumpkins in the bag, reaching for his wallet.

“Eh! No!” You click your tongue, eyes flashing at him. “I told you I was buying it.” You put a hand over the card slot, glaring at Carmen with a frown.

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head lightly, pushing your hand away lightly. “You got a number you wanna put in?” He nodded towards the screen.

You pouted, pausing for a moment. “Yes.” You mutter, typing in your number quickly, pivoting your body in front of the card machine.

“You gonna move?” Carmen looked at you, already reaching around to put his card in.

“No, I told you it was my treat.” You mutter, twisting with your phone in your hand. One look at the screen, and you were tapping your phone against the screen. The ding chimed, your smug smile spreading across your lips when the receipt printed.

Carmen was stunned, card still in his hand. “What- How did you-”

“Gotta be quicker than that, Berzatto.” You grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Carmen looked down at his card in his hand, shoving it back into his wallet. Maybe Sugar was right, maybe he did need to actually learn how to use his phone. He grabbed the bags from you, swatting your hand away while you pushed the basket back.

“Shoulda let me pay.” Carmen grumbled, walking beside you out the sliding doors. It had started to get chilly, leaves tinging with warm color and the temperature beginning to drop. “Stuff’s for me anyways.”

“Yeah, but I wanted you to get it.” You bump your hip playfully with his. “Besides, I told you it was my treat.”

Carmen didn’t respond, unlocking the trunk and putting the bags in carefully, but the frown didn’t fade. Brows still furrowed and lips still in a hard line.

“Hey,” You call, stopping him before he could close the trunk. “I told you I wanted to buy it for you.”

“Yeah,” Carmen’s brows furrowed. “But you shouldn’t’ve-”

“-Carm.” You groan lightly. “I wanted to pay, ok? You always get me stuff. Let me get this for you, ok?” You say lightly, arms snaking around his shoulders, looping behind his neck. “Let me spoil you, bear. Lemme be your sugar mama.”

Carmen snorts, lips curling in a grin lightly. “Shut up.” He mutters, your lips closing over his in a sweet kiss.

You pulled apart, blushed and swooned in a Target parking lot. “You gotta put the stuff up anyways.” You tease, hands sliding down his toned arms, over his color block jacket.

“Yeah?” Carmen snorts lightly, pulling the trunk shut. “You’re not gonna help me?”

“I’ll be directing.” You declare, pinching his butt lightly, grinning at how he jumped and flushed. Sliding into the passenger side, you lean across the console to Carmen. “I’ll make sure the ambiance is there.”

Carmen nodded, starting the car, eyes bright when they met yours. “Light the candle?”

“Yes.” You laugh. “And I’ll pick out a movie.”

Carmen snorted lightly, his free hand moving behind your head rest while he backed out. It made your tummy flip with excitement. “Yeah? Casper?”

You give him a feigned unimpressed look. “You know I’m more of a Hocus Pocus girl.”

“Right, my bad.” Carmen laughed, hand gripping your thigh lightly, thumb rubbing patterns over the material of your leggings. Your heart skipped. “Fine. As long as you open those Reese’s.”

“Deal.” You grin, kissing his forearm gently.

Hours later, wrappers piled on the coffee table, the candle burning in the kitchen, and the orange lights glowing from where Carmen string them over the TV stand in the living room. One Jack-O-Lantern fleece blanket thrown over both of your legs, your head on Carmen’s while the beginning credits of Beetlejuice played on the TV. Carmen decided right there that you were right. This was more homey. Felt… right and content. He wasn’t so sure it was the decorations, more likely it was the girl who picked them out.

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mysteryshoptls · 8 months

Text

SSR Floyd Leech - Beach Wear Voice Lines

When Summoned: When it comes to the open seas, count me in～! Me and Stitch're gonna totally tear up the place! (Stitch: Hup, hyah!)

Summon Line: I don't get how we just opened up a book and popped out on a deserted island. On top of that, there's this super weird creature here, too... This is awesome!

Groooovy!!: Stitch, whaddya wanna do next? There's no way I can get bored if I'm hangin' with you. (Stitch: Ahaha, ehehe!)

Home: Let's go, Stitch! (Stitch: Ye!)

Swap Looks: Haaaah～ It's hooot.

Home Idle 1: The Beach Dash is one of 'em exercises here on land, huh. Sounds like it takes a ton of moxie, so I think I'll get Crab-chan to do it.

Home Idle 2: I went diving for some fish. Now all that's left to do is get Goldfish-chan angry and fired up so we can use his magic to grill it to perfection～

Home Idle 3: Devilfish-chan's hyped up way more than normal. Can't tell who's supposed to be the upperclassman here at all.

Home Idle - Login: Oh, I'm obviously gonna have a blast on a deserted island I've never seen before! Stitch, if ya find somethin' good, let me know. (Stitch: Yeaaah!)

Home Idle - Groovy: I feel like I've seen that Gantu guy somewhere before… Ah, yeah, he looks like a shark that I ran into on a sunken ships once.

Home Tap 1: I wonder what space is like. There's a ton of scary things out there, so maybe exploring space next would be cool after I'm done bein' on land.

Home Tap 2: This place is waaay different from what I'm used to back home, from the color of the sky to the creatures that're livin' here. Even if ya say it's all one ocean, every little thing's completely alien.

Home Tap 3: I guess sandals ain't actually half bad. I can probably coordinate my look by changin' up what anklets I wear and nail polish I use, too.

Home Tap 4: I never really got why people wore clothes when swimming, but I actually really like this flashy getup!

Home Tap 5: What're you goin' on about now? If you keep on bein' all noisy like that, Stitch might have somethin' to say about it.

Home Tap - Groovy: Good thing we all landed on this deserted island. If we were all thrown into the stormy seas, there's nothing you guys woulda been able to do, right?

Duo: [FLOYD]: Let's see which of us is stronger, Goldfish-chan～ [RIDDLE]: I have no intention of playing along with you, Floyd.

Requested by @thelonepearl.

#twisted wonderland #twst #floyd leech #riddle rosehearts #twst floyd #twst riddle #twst translation #twst lost in the book with stitch #mention: stitch #mention: ace #mention: riddle #mention: lilia

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hyunnieshannie · 1 year

Text

Favorite Girl

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader Genre: Fluff

There you are standing there in the kitchen happily making yourself a packet of Buldak noodles. Completely minding your own business as you space out watching the bubbles rise and pop as the water boils.

Minho who’d just woken up could hear you shuffling about, quietly as you made your midnight snack. Silently creeping his way out of bed, and walking down the hall to watch you as you go about your business.

He appreciates watching you delicately step around the kitchen, doing your best not to wake him up. He giggles softly to himself as he watches you attempt to reach for something on the top shelf before giving up. Too tired to reach for a step stool or chair.

He admired your attempt, you knew you couldn’t reach it but you tried. You could barely even reach the middle shelf without standing straight up on your toes, occasionally you’d throw a leg over the counter to try and reach just a bit higher, which never failed to make him laugh.

Instead you opt for grabbing a glass out of the drying rack near the sink, and waddling over to the fridge for a cup of water. You stand there silently as the water slowly spills into the cup.

You jump almost spilling the water, as Minho’s arms snake around your waist, pulling you into him softly; “if you were hungry, you could’ve asked me to make you something.” His voice still course from speaking for the first time since waking up, he kisses the top of your head.

Slowly you turn to face your very tired boyfriend. Who yawns as he brings you into a hug.

“I didn’t want to wake you up” you mutter,

He flashes you a tired smile, before softly kissing you.

“I’d never let my favorite girl go hungry, tired or not” Tags @chanlixiiee @channiesbub @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected

#lee know fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know soft thoughts #skz soft thoughts #stray kids soft hours

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todayisafridaynight · 5 months

Note

[ almost ] seasonal question; what do you think the arakawa family does for the holidays?

jo bbg answered that for us three seconds into y7 now didnt he

#snap chats #this was the best ask to send rn i gotta wait for the train to go back LOL #BUT NAW IM PLAYIN. kinda. jo is a bitch about holidays tho #when masato was younger and predominantly under his care arakawa For Sure spoiled him rotten with gifts and nice dinners #Its A Special Occasion Lets Splurge etc etc #of course the older masato got the more distant he became until he outright just dodged arakawa entirely #if ichi isnt hounded with work (coughjocough) he’s def hangin with arakawa then. Should He Be Invited Of Course <- he always is #jo’s lame ass is spending his holidays alone even when arakawa insists he can spend it with them #Theres Work To Be Done etc etc SHUT UP also his perpetual guilt prevents him from living a lil #in the event jo isnt being A Salty Bitch tho i reckon arakawa drags him to an outing :) with ichiban.#no its fun its great Holidays With His Boys Haha. Guys Please Stop Fighting—#masato’s just Too Cool to hang out with a bunch of yakuza for the holidays. its not easy getting him a gift either #yk since he can just buy whatever he wants whenever he wants and he isnt exactly the most generous guy towards the arakawa fam #insane to say that like girl HES a part of the arakawa fam… lol… anyway #the tl;dr answer is arakawa’s taking Whoever Is Willing To Spare An Hour out to dinner #perchance a cute lil gift exchange too. you know ichi always stressin what to get arakawa #nothin he can afford is as cool or awesome as he is etc etc <- arakawa’s just happy to have ichi’s company #arakawa learned his lesson with masato. that isnt to say he doesnt give ichi super nice things but. Within Reason. HUMBLE.#pops gettin him whatever game he accidentally started to infodump about durin lunch...#crying i just know ichi's an excited puppy whenever he gets a gift. i just know masato was a bitch when he got somethin #yes ichi is a Grown Man but he actin like the excited kid arakawa never got to see and it makin him tear up JUST A BIT #trying to give jo a gift is like pulling teeth he does that bit where hes all Oh No I Couldnt but he means it #he'll relent tho. he realizes it's more trouble than its worth to refuse #‘snap what happened to mitsu’ fuck man what DID happen to mitsu LMAO #hes prob got his own friends and fam…. he isnt as tight with the arakawas as that quartet is yk…#ily mitsu dont get it twisted….. i just know you got a wife in rggo....#ok i should can it i have to drive now :(((((( byyyyeeee...... after i answer one more ask HANG ON--#send me more holiday related asks for the arakawas..... i love them... AND the holidays..

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miasmaghoul · 4 months

Note

oh bitch.

human au. dew/aether.

wedding edition. you know the one >:)

Like I could POSSIBLY do this justice in three lines

"So," Aether says, sidling up to the bar, "you come here often?"

It's a ridiculous line and he knows it, and clearly the guy he's been watching all night and finally chosen to approach agrees. He pauses with his drink halfway to his mouth and gives Aether a sideways glance. Aether doesn't mind, fixing him with a winning smile and delighting in the fact that he's even more attractive up close. It's clearly infectious, because the guy gives him an amused snort.

"Oh yeah," he replies, in a voice raspier than Aether expected from someone so...well, pretty. "Huge fan of hangin' out at weddings that don't even have a fuckin' open bar." He holds up his glass. "$12 for watered down whiskey," he laments as he swigs back the last of the drink. "Fuckin' deplorable."

"I hear you," Aether says, holding up his beer. "Apparently the bride has a thing about people passing out in the floral arrangements."

"Figures," the guy snorts, tucking a lock of gorgeous golden hair behind his ear. It's pierced, Aether notices. More that once. "That side of the family likes to think they're special."

"Oh?" Aether tips his head, resting an elbow on the bar and crossing his ankles. "You're related?"

"Cousin of a cousin," he says with a shrug, turning to mirror Aether's position. Fuck, he's handsome, with strong features and sparkling blue eyes. "I wasn't gonna bother, but I got an invite and my pants were already ironed."

Aether glances down at his crisp slacks, catching a glimpse of a bright red sock when the guy moves his foot. The only pop of color in his otherwise stark black outfit. It suits him, Aether thinks.

"That's fair," he concedes, necking the rest of his beer and setting the bottle next to the empty glass still on the bar. "I'm a pity date, myself."

Aether gestures towards the far side of the small banquet hall, towards a sad-looking girl that's pouting in the general direction of the groom. The guy winces.

"Oof," he chuckles, "that doesn't look great."

"Could be worse," Aether comments, not sounding put out in the slightest. He rests his chin on his palm with a playful smirk. "If nothing else it gives me a reason to meet handsome strangers at the bar." He gives the guy a wink, and Aether delights in the huff of laughter it earns him.

"Careful," he warns, reaching out to casually brush something off Aether’s shirt, "you keep talkin' like that and I'm gonna have to ask you to dance."

Aether grins.

"Only if you promise to dip me."

#miasma says #ask games #crow please know that i think about aether doing the invisible lasso to dew at least once a week

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dutiful-wildcraft · 3 months

Text

Task Force 141 Music Headcannons

Price

-He has some significant influences from 70s/80s heavy metal, mostly influenced from his mum who was a rebellious metalhead (and a feral KISS fan) herself, but toned down her partying when John was born. That didn't stop her from showing him the good stuff.

-John’s earliest memories are of him and his mother going on roadtrips, radio blaring. His mom giving him little music “tests,” urging John to guess the artists of the song before they ended. Being so proud of him when he got them right. His mom had a huge stereo system, an outrageously pricey thing compared to the rest of their meager home. It could play both CD’s and tapes and it was his mom’s pride and joy.

-They had “cleaning” days where they would deep clean the house. Taking turns between swapping songs as they danced and dusted. A trend that extended well into his teenage years until he joined up.

-John would later pick up more thrash and progressive metal influences from his older CO’s and later by his own team. John is a radio kind of man, and other than the stuff he got from his mum he doesn't bother much with collecting, but he usually can find a radio station or two that plays what he likes. He still blares music when he cleans or works out.

-John also dips into a bit of blues, folk and country. He’s fond of the acoustic elements, it’s easy listening and some of them tell a good story.

-Absolutely owned a “Frampton Comes Alive” CD.

-Price was a bit petty about it at first, but the rest of the 141’s music tastes aren’t terrible…he still shoves the foam earplugs in on the truck ride home once Soap gets ahold of the aux cord. Though it gives him one hell of a laugh to see Soap cut a rug.

-Gaz downloaded a huge playlist for the man and crammed it on his phone. Price was tickled pink over the selections, and now this is the only mix he fusses with, throwing it on shuffle and letting it play while he smokes and does his paperwork.

-Man actually loves to dance, he doesn't just bop around like Soap does but he will take you by the hand and groove a bit with you. He loves to feel a warm body moving with his, letting the music move them together. This is actually how he woo’s ladies at the bar. A bit of liquid courage, and smooth song. He has someone giggling in his arms in no time.

Soap

-His library is mostly made up of funk/groove metal, metalcore, pop, disco and electronic. He can party to really anything really, he just loves anything that is fast. Something that has a bounce to it. There is never a wrong setting for this. Has nearly slipped and busted his head open having a one man mosh in the shower.

-Used to have several piercings, his tongue and eyebrow namely, as well as a couple more pieces in his ears and nipples. They unfortunately had to go when he joined up. But he will still throw the earrings in when it's time to party. Some thicker captive bead earrings from where he had them stretched just the slightest.

-He's actually pretty solid with a guitar. Doesn’t talk about it because it makes him feel like a douche. But he and his friends did have shitty garage band as teenagers. (Anyway..here's Wonderwall).

-Tries to keep it heavier when hangin with the boys but don't buy his tough guy bullshit, the next song is Madonna. His shuffle will give you whiplash.

-He and Gaz vibe the most, both crowding into the front seats to put on a concert the whole ride. Having a jam session while they cook together or having heated arguments on whether something is a cover or not (Gaz is always right).

Gaz

-The most eclectic out of all of them. Pretty similar to Soap, he tends to gravitate toward alt rock/indie, r&b, pop, and psychedelic. While he enjoys the upbeat electronic stuff that Soap enjoys, he prefers the groove. Something a bit slower and well…sexier.

-He is actually pretty knowledgeable (special interest you could say) about music. The man is like an encyclopedia for music. Can name songs by the first 2 seconds alone. He is a menace on trivia nights for this reason.

-Has started collecting records in his free time. He has favorites sure, but sometimes he'll just snag a few with interesting covers and give them a spin. He has found some gems this way…and also some straight *trash*. These songs have turned into memes between he and Soap.

-Makes playlists as a love language.

-Always trusted as the trip DJ, takes his job very seriously and considers all his teams tastes to carefully weave a mix everyone can vibe too.

-Sung in the church choir as a kid, absolutely hated every minute of it. He was always the star of the christmas cantatas until he quit going as a teen.

-He and his sisters would have knock down drag out fights over the sole CD player they had as kids. Genuinely can't stand boy bands due to his big sisters obsession with them at the time. (The shit was on repeat for months.)

Ghost

-absolutely uses the balaclava to hide a earbud when he's just doing paperwork in his office.

-It's his ritual after an op. Simon pops his earbuds in, leans his head back and rests. You don't talk to Simon during this time. He'll take them out when he's ready to talk.

-He also keeps one in while on leave, focusing on his music in the grocery or doing mundane errands. But just one earbud, he keeps the other out to listen for anything sus.

-Simon's music is pretty precious to him, and something he's actually pretty protective of. He never listened to his music out loud, even kept it turned down low with his headphones to prevent any accidental overhearing.

-He picked up a lot from his brother that he used as a springboard after that. Lyrics that gave him goosebumps, words for feelings he could never articulate. To him, there was music for anything. Anger, sadness, elation.

-Simon Riley who's favorite past time was rooting through old used CD's with his big brother at old video rental shops.

-Tommy who would usher him into the bathroom, putting big clunky headphones over his ears to block the sounds of their father's abuse. Clicking play and mouthing a “Stay here” as he clicked the door shut behind him.

-Simon Riley who scrawled his favorite lyrics onto the soles of old dingey converse. Colored them into the skin of his forearms in a mock up of the tattoos he would later get.

-And he would, Gaz finds them later, inky poetry weaved into the images along his arms, and on his collar. He subtly looks up the words later. Smiling as lyrics of old grungey 90s songs fill his screen.

-Tool enjoyer, literally just plays the albums start to finish, he is actually really fond of the instrumentals

BONUS!! Alex

-very similar to Price though he leans away from some of the heavier stuff. He loves the easy yacht rock type vibes with some classic rock. As well as some 90s and outlaw country.

-He is an absolute crooner when he’s drunk. He actually has a gorgeous singing voice, low and rich, reminiscent of Tracy Lawrence.

-He does know the dance to Copperhead Road, tried to teach Farah who does not have rhythm to save her life.

Actual Playlists

Price Soap Gaz Ghost Alex

I'll be adding to all these mixes as time passes, I would love to hear what you have in mind too <3

#was man in the box to on the nose for Ghost? maybe....#i am a Ghost is an edgelord truther untill the day i DIE #also super biased bc this is most of the stuff i grew up with/listen too now :^)#simon ghost riley #john price #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #call of duty #cod headcannons #alex keller #farah karim #call of duty headcanons #modern warfare #modern warfare ii #mwii

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