𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑖 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑!𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑟!𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑐
~ lives in a sty. beer and bourbon bottles on the ground next to the old recliner that Riley [da dog] likes to claim for himself.
~ it’s practically a hoarder's house-level messy
~ he doesn’t use an ashtray. there are at least 4 porcelain mugs around his house filled with cigarette butts and ash.
~ mail piled up in the foyer, almost touching the mail slot.
~ he enters his house from the back door in the kitchen. [to avoid the mail lol]
~ all of his windows are dirty
~ he has two pillows and one blanket on his bed. nothing more, nothing less.
~ he doesn’t allow Riley onto the bed, but we all know Riley sleeps in that bed
~ he smells like smoke, blood, sweat, and dog
~ a football match is always on his tv even when he’s not home [leaves it on for Riley]
~ has an old worn-out Manchester United jersey that he hasn’t worn in years
~ he def has those very showy posters of women on his walls, some from when he was a teen.
~ has some of those photos in the butcher shop ^^^ less showy ofc
~ when at the butcher’s shop, he always has a cigarette either in hand or in his mouth.
~ uses the knife skills he learned from the military when cutting meat
~ the classic rock and country music stations are always playing
~ gets angry whenever an ad plays but will never stop listening to the radio
~ says music apps are a scam
~ saves the good cuts for you
~ allows you to sample the meat [which is just him giving it to you for free]
~ tells you a stupid joke every time you're about to leave the shop
~ dad jokes. very bad dad jokes.
~ he has a one-sided competition with the local supermarket butcher
~ he hates that butcher with a burning passion
~ whenever he’s in that supermarket, whether that be buying canned food for Riley or getting another pack of beer, he’s staring the poor old man down, judging how he cuts and slices the meat.
~ gives the poor old man a mini heart attack whenever he turns around to see 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 standing to the side, watching…
[there's nothing scarier than a 6’4ft/193cm man in all black staring you down]
~ back to the butcher shop, it is not well kept for the most part.
~ the walls are stained with yellow and a mysterious brown color trickling from the ceiling onto the walls
~ has not been updated in probably 50 years
~ the tiling is that one sterile green color you’d see in 1950s hospitals
~ some of the tiles are missing or just straight up broken, half-hazardously fixed with duct tape
~ about his fashion, i’d imagine when at work he’s in a white muscle tank with a lot of stains on it. dark-washed jeans with a black rubber apron over top or a white cloth apron. Depends on how much meat he has to cut that day.
~ and at home, old military clothes with his last name in bold yellow letters, hoodies, or just the clothes he wore to work idk.
~ when he's out and about, hoodies and dark washed jeans again.
a/n: couldn't think of any more, so soz for abrupt end. we are building up to that full fic 😼
