seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from Netherlands
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from China
seen from Poland
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
@predctory cont'd:
“Must’a been one helluva low one. What were thinking, going after Diatrice?”
"It was dumb, I know. The kid was never in any danger." It wasn't Jack's proudest moment, and he went great lengths to not stress Diatrice out, but still. "I was desperate. Doesn't excuse it, I know."
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“So, what’s the deal with your butthole?”
"EXCUSE the fuck outta you??"
"I don't see how that is-oh," she looks at her t-shirt.
"Oop.. forgot about this. Yeah I found this salon that bleached my butthole for free as long as I advertised their services. Want the number? You might not wanna though, it probably won't go well with your whole... orange thing."
"I love buck's old lounge records." no, that wouldn't do at all. this wasn't one of those conversations where he could skirt around the elephant in the room--- not this time. he just didn't have those kinds of moves in him anymore. not when it was her. "aheh." there was no old actor's trick in the book that would have calmed his nerves. when did he last get the chance to talk about the things he loved? when did he last let someone get close enough to hear? jack thanked god for giving him the excuse to sway. "I love the way we move together," jack began, once he had been able to find the right footing. whether under spotlight or moonlight, there wasn't a man or beast alive that could match their rhythms. he never forgot that first time they met, the way their tangle played out like a tango. maybe that was when this whole thing started. "I love the way your freak matches my freak." this, he felt, needed no explanation. "I love spending time with you." his arms wound her in closer, turning their little dance into more of an embrace. he took a moment, as long as he had his chin perched on her shoulder, to give her a little kiss on the neck. "you're really gonna make me say it, aren't you?"
@predctory || cont.
Sends a legion of alley cats to the roof where he’s currently camping out.
"What the fuck!" Frank gets up, backing away when he sees a hoard of cats just crawl over the roof. "Is this real?" He quietly asks himself, wondering if he's hallucinating again. The mix of meows and howls make him second guess himself. He quickly takes his phone out, quickly flicking to the camera to see if this is really happening. He sees the cats on his screen, and he lets out the breathe he's holding. "Fuck! What the fuck is happening?!"
i've killed everyone i ever kissed. / @predctory
“ METAPHORICALLY OR LITERALLY? ” did the answer really matter? not in the grand scheme of things, but color her curious. “ i have a similar issue, though in a more literal sense, i'm afraid. ”
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@predctory // from here
One didn't have to possess near-preternatural instincts to see that Greer wasn't having a good day; she walked like she was trying to outpace her problems, carried her shoulders in a tense line. And the fur -- those hackles were up, no question. He wasn't surprised she called him out of the blue to meet up, he was used to her abrupt and filterless personality by now, but asking to meet in somewhat neutral territory (not Avengers mansion or Westchester or whatever) was new. Different.
She was definitely in a state, and the uncharacteristic affection sealed it. Then again, he shouldn't be surprised. He'd heard through the grapevine, after all. No secrets in their sadly insular community.
So he plunked down on the grass next to her, stains on his jeans be damned, flopped back and put an arm out for Greer lie back on. "G'wan, tiger mom. Let 'er rip. What's eatin' you?"
Punches him in the throat.
resurrects her husband to give him incurable super cancer or some fucked up bullshit
' were you looking at him? '
there was a smirk forming on the witch's red lips as her eyes went from a point in the room towards greer; the tone of her voice had a delicious hint of jealousy, as if she was trying to mark territory that she hadn't won yet. ❝ yes, i was… are you jealous, greer? ❞ of course she wasn't, but it was fun to play this game with her and see what resulted from it.
* ⋆ ⁺ ‧͙ ⊹˚ . *⋆ @predctory 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 ❛ jealousy ❜ ⸻ 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 *𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞.
