#fawnytrager

[sgttiggy]

(ง •̀_•́)ง

Tig laughed, grabbing at his shoulder and pretending to go ‘down for the count’ “Ah, damn, fawny. You got your old man’s right hook!”

[source-archive-mlynn]

fawny-trager:

“Totally?”

“Yeah. I kind of spiral when I get pissed.”

[sgttiggy]

✄

Send me a ✄ for my character’s reaction to yours walking in on them in the middle of killing someone.

Could it have been worse? Maybe. It wasn’t an execution. It wasn’t him and the boys torturing someone to death for information with hammers. It hadn’t even been supposed to go this far. Sometimes he just got a little carried away. After all, someone had needed a reminder of what fucking over the club meant, and he’d never minded being criticized as the clubs pit bull if that meant people knew he had teeth.

But that didn’t make it any better now when he was wiping blood off his hands and into his denim. The girls weren’t supposed to ever see this part of him, not in the back of an alley where he could taste blood in his mouth that wasn’t his, not anywhere. There was more than a dozen reasons he kept their visits few and far between. It kept them safe, it kept him free to work.

And it kept him looking like just another dead  beat dad, and less like a killer in his baby girls’ eyes.

“Fawn… Baby what are you doing here?”

[naomh-a-peacach]

The sun’s dipping low, blocked out by the buildings a distance away and painting the sky a myriad of warm colors overhead, but the beauty of it’s only given a cursory glance from where the Irishman sits beneath a bridge, tonguing the split in his lip and tossing rubble into the creek. His temper’d gotten the better of him, as it often does, and it’s not uncommon than disagreements get hashed out in a handful of blows. He’s not sore about it, but still the opportunity to go out, to ride for a bit just to clear his head rather than towards some goal, wasn’t one he’d been willing to pass up.

His bike’s on the shoulder, half in the gravel and half in the grass as he’d maneuvered to make absolutely sure it wouldn’t wind up side-swiped by idiots that can’t pay attention to the road, the only real giveaway to his position but he’s not really hiding. Just...relaxing.

[termxofxendearment-blog]

Always by your side

When Tig finally came to, it was like clawing his way through fog.  It came slowly, inch by inch, piece by piece, until he finally got his eyes open.  He looked over blearily, blinked a couple times to separate the image, and offered her a small smile.  His voice was rough and patchy from disuse, but he licked his lips and swallowed and tried again.  “Hey, Fawn.  How long you been here?”

The next question was ‘how long have I been out,’ but he waited for that one, he could guess it was a while, what he remembered.  He’d dumped his bike trying to outrun the crew following him, playing diversion for the club and maybe he’d been reckless but he’s pretty sure he would have been okay if the bastard hadn’t tapped him.  As it was he’d tipped, rolled, and after that he didn’t really remember much.

[termxofxendearment-blog]

[ text: ] I think the reason she hasn’t text me back is because I spanked her ass with Hulk Hands

[text: Thing One] you leave a mark?

[tiggerdontchangestripes]

(text message) Hey Dad, I'm going shopping. Want me to pick up anything for you? (BECAUSE I MISS YOU)

[text: Fawnsy] yeah sure. [text: Fawnsy] dog food. [text: Fawnsy] and anything u want for Christmas. 

[pantslessoptimism-archive-blog]

[text] But like now I know, men who are vegetarians are significantly worse in bed.

{text; fawn} Red meat must be like, the key to good sex.