Because I feel like showing off my crazy dog, here’s a trick she can do. This video was taken a couple weeks ago.
//hanging out downstairs with my dog. OMG she’s being CRAZY right now she keeps running from room to room.
Bane glanced up to where the girl was pointing, rolling his eyes beneath his mask. Did she not know who he was?
Nonetheless, it wasn’t as though the scarf was out of his reach. A big hand rose, grabbed hold of the item, and plucked it away from the metal, and he handed it to the girl without comment.
You know, sometimes I wonder what would happen if someone from DC stumbled across my blog.
I imagine Gail Simone and Bob Kane shaking their heads at me in abject disappointment.
Then I imagine them failing to sue me for copyright infringement because guess what motherfuckers I’m in debt up to my eyeballs over here you would only get about thirteen cents.
GodDAMN there is so much stupid shit in the Bane tag. I do not care about your pet that you named Bane, or about your unrelated post that has a random TDKR gif on it, or your selfie wearing a mask or a Bane t-shirt, or your Bane RP blog (I am a firm believer in keeping RP out of non-RP specific tags).
Jack’s eyes narrowed on his fiance, sensing something was a bit off, but let that slide. He grabbed the tickets and moved them to the bedside table, resuming his usual spot lying on top of the other man. “Not, uh, not right now. But soon. As in…” He cast his eyes up and pursed scarred lips as if in thought before turning them back to Gabriel, a half-smirk forming on his face. “We leave in five days.”
The big man sighed heavily. ”Have you thought this through, Jack? Have you made plans to feed the cats? For someone to look after them? Are they prepared to give Calvo his baths? His massages? Wash his sweater? I do not think this is a good time for a vacation.”
Not to mention all the packing. His own belongings would fit easily enough in a small suitcase, but he knew Jack was likely to try to overpack, and he would have to explain to the other man that one simply could not take sixteen bags of Oreos into a foreign country. Not to mention how difficult it would be to convince him to leave all his knives behind so they could get through airport security. Would he even make it through airport security? He doubted it. He would likely be subjected to a rather invasive personal search because of the subcutaneous implants that were remnants of his days on Venom. And of course, neither of them had passports, and it wasn’t as though they could simply go and get one, since they were supposed to be incarcerated…..
"We do not have passports, luggage, or, to my knowledge, a cat-sitter. Not to mention, I have heard airline seats are notoriously small. I do not think I will fit in a plane, Jack.”