Blazin up the wrong answer ;(
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
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Stranger Things
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

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Peter Solarz
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Not today Justin
h

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JBB: An Artblog!
trying on a metaphor
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@tangotigre
Blazin up the wrong answer ;(
punch the first person who talks to you today
Go stick your foot in that wet concrete, never mind if you ruin it and everyone gets mad at you
Just over the railing
spend all that money youve been saving up
make sure everyone is afraid of you
spend money. who cares if you dont have money just keep trying to charge th card
you see that person who hurt your friend? kill them. slam their head against the ground and pull it open. step on their stomach and drive your foot into their ribs. perfect. problem solved.
Have sex with him
bite into your headphones and break them
Your broke???? Fuck anyone! Get money. Who cares????!!
“Yeah yeah, whuddeva lothario.”
While his tan’s as guady as ever, his wardrobe isn’t- his usual eye catching suit traded in for a black turtle neck and jeans. It’s a rather tame outfit for the Tiger, but considering he’s walked into the Prosecutor’s office it was probably a good idea that he wasn’t his usual obnoxiously neon self.
“Dunno when youse headed off dis mornin’ but ya left yer wallet by da door.” The Tiger pulled out the said item, gently pushing it over the desk and to his employer, the wallet just short of bopping the blond’s perfect nose. Despite his language and the gesture, it wasn’t malicious, his posture casual and his tone relaxed, or as relaxed as he could be surrounded by authority figures.
“There yuh go numbnuts, who knows? maybe dis is da start of yer cloud’s silver linin’.”
Klavier smirked and took his wallet, shoving it in his pants. “You’re oddly inspirational today, ja?” He was just now taking in the Tiger’s toned down appearance. The change had made him feel like he hadn’t seen the other man in forever. Furio’s toned down way of speaking to him didn’t help that impression.
“I had court in the morning. Was in a bit of a rush.” He hadn’t spoken much to the other man since drunkenly trying to seduce him. He hadn’t drank since then either. The blonde sat up and rolled his shoulders.
“Why don’t we go get something to eat? On me, naturlich. I know how much you hate authority, and we’re in a building full of cops and prosecutors.” He stood, grabbing his coat instead of waiting for an answer.
“All joking aside, I do quite like your outfit. Not my style, but your legs look nice in jeans.”
“...”
He held back the sigh that threatened to leave him, instead masking the motion with his hands moving to his pockets in a way that almost forcibly idle, his gaze moving from Klavier to the floor.
This was how it started wasn’t it? Klavier saw... Something he wanted and tried to explore it, Tigre snubbed it, and then they followed that pattern until one of them either lost their temper or they separated for months on end until they tumbled into each other again. It was a clear cut and exhausting set of scenarios.
“... A’ight.”
The affirmation is husky, and just as forced as his hands in his pockets. He shouldn’t really feel the way he did about a man half his age but, if his heart hammering in his chest was any indication, the sentiment still burned as strong as ever... A feeling of fear and embarrassment.
It was frightened being so dependent on a man who surpassed himself in every way, and who could utterly destroy him once he’d had his roll in the hay.
Still, the other path was exhausting and, right now, he was tired of being tired.
“Get yer coat.”
What’s da beef up wit’chu?
“Bad case.” He muttered, looking up at his visitor and smiling when he laid eyes on him.
“But I’m glad to see you, so I suppose today isn’t so bad.”
“Yeah yeah, whuddeva lothario.”
While his tan’s as guady as ever, his wardrobe isn’t- his usual eye catching suit traded in for a black turtle neck and jeans. It’s a rather tame outfit for the Tiger, but considering he’s walked into the Prosecutor’s office it was probably a good idea that he wasn’t his usual obnoxiously neon self.
“Dunno when youse headed off dis mornin’ but ya left yer wallet by da door.” The Tiger pulled out the said item, gently pushing it over the desk and to his employer, the wallet just short of bopping the blond’s perfect nose. Despite his language and the gesture, it wasn’t malicious, his posture casual and his tone relaxed, or as relaxed as he could be surrounded by authority figures.
“There yuh go numbnuts, who knows? maybe dis is da start of yer cloud’s silver linin’.”
the fact that this blog exists just makes me so happy
//Well thank you- Hopefully this douche’ll be out and about more again soon- I’ve just been out of mojo recently.
Cue a grumbling prosecutor lying on his desk.
Someone’s grumpy.
What’s da beef up wit’chu?
run away, dont come back for a couple of weeks, and finally come back just to see if anyone really missed you
Nightmares, Loss, Pawns, Pretence
Put a word in my ask and I will write a Headcanon about it for my Muse.
Nightmares
Tigre doesn’t have nightmares he can remember, but when he does have them they almost always wake him up. Most of the time they’re caused by stress and once he’s woken by one he finds it very hard to get back to sleep.
Loss
Tigre deals with loss how he deal with most things- distracting himself with work or ignoring it completely.
Pawns
Tigre’s life has mostly been acting as a pawn for people, the fact that he was he wasn’t someone’s pawn at Tender Lender is half the reason he killed for it. Sadly it didn’t work out that way and Cadaverini still kowtowed him- it’s part of the reason he used Viola to escape prison, as it seemed like a suitable ‘fuck you’ for putting him there in the first place.
Pretence
Have you seen him? He’s nothing but pretence.
Honestly though, his whole visage is vastly different from how he actually looks, from his tan to his hair to his body type. While he’s used to doing it, it’s gotten a lot harder after hitting 40, and due to his metabolism slowing right down he had a few lipo treatments, though nothing since leaving prison- he actually learnt how to not be a lazy asshole and build sober schedules in the pen.