June 2015

debates making character icon packs cause i love messing with xps and i love making icons

trying out a new icon style eeeeeeeey /finger guns

ohhhh you like them BIG…………

sᴛɪᴄᴋs ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ ᴀᴛ

ofinsanidad:

hypelios replied to your post:the worst part about living on an island is you…

seriously though i’ve been living off them for like the past week

nooooo thats not healthy at fucking all!!! youre going to get all skinny and weak!!!
how are you going to become king of everything and kill all the bitches who get in your way if youre skinny and weak??? :(
im going to make you something really yummy and protein filled ok???

paperwork is killing me also you are making it way to easy on the innuendo front– i mean really, kiddo, but just for posterity’s sake (ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴅʀᴜᴍ ʀᴏʟʟ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ); fill me with your protein, baby 

also i feel like at this rate i should be hiring you as a friggin’ cook or something– and i know how you feel about long pig

ofinsanidad:

alright, listen. i get my cock is fantastic and humongous, but i’m genuinely trying to be fucking concerned for your FUCKING HEALTH. 

i don’t want you to hire me because than that means i have to follow a bullshit ass contract. i like doing shit at my own pace, thanks!! and thanks for ruining the mood!! AGAIN!!!

ruined!! i’d say i fucking enhanced it!! i mean you’re not exactly wine and roses, cupcake. not that i mind, i’m more of a bubble baths and rum guy, but anyway– you’re welcome

and i already said i wasn’t gonna hire you. also you haven’t even read one of my contracts!! i was even gonna throw in a sweet signing bonus i like to call the party in my pants but nu-uh, it’s off the table now, sweetheart, you can get your top grade weapons somewhere else, except you won’t, because ain’t nobodies guns as good as mine, nuuuu-uh

ofinsanidad:

( oh for fuck’s FUCKING SAKE. if there was a camera here, vaas would be staring RIGHT into it. instead, he stares at the center of his current frustrations with a large, mopey frown. )

you already fucking know i use maliwan more than i use hyperion guns. and!! bandit!!! since, you know!!! i AM a bandit! anyway, you can cook for yourself. you pissed me off. congratulations, you piece of fuck. continue eating sauce for the rest of your fucking life, because you are getting NOTHING out of me. 

(jack figures by now vaas would have caught on to the fact that he likes to piss him off just for the fun of it. push ‘em to the edge just to see if they’d push back. it was hilarious and, more often than not, led to really hot sex. both activities were currently tied for being his favorite past-time.)

sure, you’re bandit trash– but you’re my bandit trash. and maliwan? really?? you wound me. (he even puts a hand over his heart and everything, mock-hurt molding his brow)

i’m just kidding, babe. tell you what– you stop the moping and i’ll come visit you. i’ll bring uuuh, one of those little fruit baskets from eden-6. you like fruit right?? who doesn’t like fruit.

ofinsanidad:

( cue extreme, dramatic sighing. vaas is upset, sure, but making him not upset is a damn easy thing if you happen to be handsome jack. what a fucking asshole, right? vaas reaches somewhere off-camera, and then returns his arm to frame with a maliwan rifle in sight. that, of course, is followed by a very necessary flick off. )

really?? hmm, you might have to tattoo your name on me, amigo. are you really going to come visit this fucking time? last time you said that, you left me hanging. i was heart broken. so   bring me fruit, motherfucker!! just make sure it is juicy.

(cute. jack returns the gesture with a smirking glare.)

you must be a mind-reader or something– i was just thinking about that, it’s goddamn uncanny– except i’d use something a lot more fun than ink. hot poker maybe. big red letters. right on your ass. you’d have to stay very still, though, no squirming. (he’s put some thought into this)

(he laughs, haughtily) it’s not my fault, i’m a busy man!! but uuuh, i’m sure i can slip out for a bit. i’m tired of paperwork and i could use the distraction; as long as you promise to show me a good time.

ofinsanidad:

you see all this shit on my arm??? i can deal with it. i’m a big fucking boy. you have to convince me to let you do that first, though!! you are kiiiiiiiind of a huge asshole. ( there comes his trademark, ear-to-ear grin. he shifts around a bit, deciding to lay down on his stomach. he’s still in view, of course. he’s not going to deny jack the sight of him sticking a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it up. he has a lot of those to share, amigo. )

sure, come over here and we can do drugs together and all that other fun shit. bring your fucking paperwork if you want. i will do it for you. aren’t i just the sweetest guy ever???

i just killed vaas in fc3 and wtf im so upset i refuse to believe he’s dead until i see an actual non-drug induced body yells !!!!!!

asthehero:

asthehero-blog:

( hypelios liked your post )

“Yeah, so. I meant to send that to you. I fucking texted EVERYONE.”
Groans.

well i mean i can hardly blame you, i’m well known to be very distracting
ooooops now where did my shirt go

tonight i am root beer flavored who wants to make out

asthehero:

“I hid your shirt. You’re never going to find it.
It’s your own fault for taking it off.” Good luck, Jack.

that’s fine i’ll just take yours (ʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇs ғᴏʀ)

asthehero:

SWATS HIS HANDS.
“You’re not doing anything of the sort.
   You’re gonna’ sit back, and give me a show.”

(ᴘᴏᴜᴛs)
oh yeah? says who? do you even have tickets to this gun show?? (ғʟᴇxᴇs)

asthehero:

Pause. Slowwwwwwly grinning now.
“I’m entitled to that show, you goddamn brat.
   Remind me who had you squirming earlier? And begging. I distinctly remember begging.”

He can feel the sweat starting to pool between his shoulder blades and if he’d still had his shirt on he would have tugged at the collar. 
     “You’re memory must be going old man, ‘cause I don’t remember any begging of any sort. Or squirming.”  He’s lying, he totally remembers, and it’s times like these he’s glad you can’t see the blush under the mask.
     “As a matter of fact I think I might have you checked into the medical bay or something. Do you feel feverish?” Nervous laughter.

asthehero:

“Are you telling me, that I was, ah. Imagining it?” A brief gesture of his hand, and Jack looks as though he’s about to lean forwards and crawl up the length of this goddamn brat’s body. Remind him, by any means, of every little noise he’d wrung from that pretty throat of his. He doesn’t.
He’s got something better in mind. Something that begins with a savage grin that SPREADS.

“Oh, I feel fine. You wanna’ make sure of it? C’mere. Test my temperature,” said, as he taps his temple and crooks that same finger at his younger self, coaxing him to come closer. “You want the shirt, yeah? I might give it to you, for a price. How’s about a kiss to start, gorgeous.”

He squints at his other apprehensively. He knows himself enough not to trust a word that comes out his own mouth, cross-dimensional or otherwise.
     “Imagining it, maybe. You could of been uuh– hallucinating. You never know.” His own grin falters when other Jack starts looking at him like a skag would a haunch of fresh meat. And you wonder why he doesn’t ever believe you, you sly devil you.

It’s his first instinct to play hard to get, to tease, but a kiss couldn’t hurt, right? (It could, and a part of him is counting on that, but anyway)
     “What, you can check for fevers with your tongue now? Science is truly amazing.” He slides over regardless, reaching for other Jack’s face and wiggling his fingers at him. You don’t really expect him to pass this up, now do you?

asthehero:

Jack’s smile twists into a tooth-baring grin. “Hallucinating, huh? You know, there isn’t anyone else here save for you and me. Keep on clutching at that pride. You know I’m MORE than happy to strip it from you in favor of making you feel reaaaaally good, Jack.” And. Right for the jugular.

He can see it, in his counterpart’s eyes. That need to play the game, to hold back just long enough to maintain control, and it’s friggin’ intoxicating to watch the way Jack slowly gives in. Sometimes, the ensuing power struggle isn’t worth postponing a very pleasing reward. That’s something he’s come to learn, with time and experience. Jack fits his fingertips under his younger self’s chin, when he draws closer, lifting it up so he can take a good look at the length of his neck and the angle of his jaw. Youthful, sharp. Just asking to be marked up. The usual.

“You could, with – uhm, microsensors,” he wiggles his eyebrows in the same moment that Jack wiggles his fingers, playing the chatty game right up until the moment he can press his mouth to Jack’s. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, catching the faintest hint of blood just before he digs his fingers into the tender hinge of Jack’s jaw and forces his mouth open. Chasing the taste of blood with his tongue, he BITES, hard, at the corner of the other man’s mouth. ( Bleed, kid. )

He shivers, working his jaw into what looks more like a pout than his intended glare. (Just once, he’d like to win, but part of him likes it better when he doesn’t.) There’s already heat crawling up his spine and he’s angry with himself for being so weak for this. He doesn’t reply, he can’t with other Jack’s hands maneuvering him, eyes raking over him. Jack glowers at him and bites his own tongue, worrying the cut from the candy he’d enjoyed earlier.

The copper taste doesn’t take the edge off the sexual tension, but Jack snorts at the other’s little eyebrow dance anyway, and then he’s being kissed. It starts out gentle enough, it always does, and then it snaps into something vicious and Jack makes a noise in the back of his throat, sharing the taste and gripping the other’s shoulders least he get devoured in the process.

Jack yelps at the bite, muffled by the other Jack’s tongue, but he doesn’t pull away, (no-sir-ee, if you blood, old man, he’ll fucking give it to you). He bites back, teeth sliding over tongue until he’s not sure whose mouth is whose and his fingers slide over the other’s throat, not quite squeezing but not quite gentle either. He’s not about to go down without a fight.

ofinsanidad:

i’m going to mcfreakin’ fuck you up if you say that shit again. you know how i feel about the shit that goes around the fucking internet. ( one hour isn’t too long, but for vaas, it’ll feel like an entire fucking day. time seems to move slower for him after he spent an entire week stressing himself out over what time really is. he lets out another sigh, a small whine lacing itself into the end of the sound. he’ll wait, yeah, but he’s not going to have fun while waiting. he’s never had any sort of patience, especially when it comes to people he likes. ) 

i was just offering, fucker. hurry. up. i want your hands on my face, and you want my drugs. don’t die while finishing up your work. you know where to fucking find me.

Jack’s grin is all teeth as he shuts off his echo. His mountain of paperwork can wait. (Or he could just pass it off to the new secretary, isn’t that what they’re for? Except he wasn’t kidding about it being his eyes only, and this is already his third assistant in two months and HR is starting to get antsy. He’s also debated ‘accidentally’ lighting the files on fire. His assistant too.)

It takes him forty minutes to get ready (five notifying his flabbergasted assistant that he’d be back soon-ish, thirty making sure his hair is fucking perfect and not a strand out of place, and another five barking orders over the station intercom for somebody to find him a goddamn fruit basket; fear of death really does make for a resourceful employee), and the next ten just to get out of his office and to the fast travel station.  

He’s immediately met with the planet’s hot and muggy atmosphere, and he really starts to regret his habit of wearing so many layers. It’s coming to the end of one of Pandora’s long ass day cycles, the sunset painting the little island with warm hues. (It’s quite different from the vast stretches of desert and snow caps he’s used to seeing on Pandora, but the planet has any and every type of biome if you know where to look.)

Jack admires the way his (now completed) station looks from all the way down here. He thinks about how the sight of it will soon strike fear in the hearts of every bandit who sees it and grins smugly, taking of his jacket and tying it around his waist before making his way to Vaas’ compound. Speaking of bandits– he has a date with this one in particular.

i was upset today so i painted and it actually came out okay?? so have a vaas

ofinsanidad:

Vaas isn’t a fan of waiting, and the thing with Handsome motherfucking Jack is that he always made you wait. Vaas has learned to expect it, but he’s not really used to it yet. He doesn’t like it, either. He smokes up seven cigarettes while waiting until he gets bored and starts pacing. In the long ass time he’s left to himself, he ends up cleaning up the mess that is his room, washing his face thoroughly, punching one of his guys in the face, petting one of the skags on their compound for five minutes straight, and even changing clothes. That muscle shirt Jack gave him a while back with the Hyperion logo on it? Yeah, he’s wearing that. He’s not a fan of yellow, but the shirt looks good on him. It really compliments his shoulders and back.

When His Majesty finally decides to arrive, Vaas finds out through the yelling. His psychos are starting to throw fits, and he rushes his ass outside to scream at them to SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU PIECES OF SHIT DO YOU WANT ME TO BLOW YOU UP??? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT??? I WILL FEED YOU TO EVERY SINGLE CREATURE ON THIS FUCKING PLANET IF YOU DO NOT FUCK OFF RIGHT NOW. He’s lucky enough that it’s only a few of them, and they’re not the fully insane ones. These actually bother to listen, even if they only listen to threats and yelling. He motions over one of the nomads to tell him to take care of shit for a few hours and to not fucking bother him unless it’s a huge emergency, and then he’s back to sunshine and smiles and dashing over to Jack. 

“Hey. Want me to take your jacket for you? How nice of you to finally show your pretty face. I was getting really fucking worried that I would have to do all these drugs by myself.” Vaas is an affectionate little shit, but that’s one of the few things he can actually control about himself. He manages to just place his hand over the side of Jack’s arm and rub down to his wrist. It’s chaste as can be, but even the big bad Vaas Montenegro has his moments.

When Jack finally lays eyes on Vaas, he doesn’t dare hold back his wolfish whistle. As a matter of fact, he makes it as loud as he can, because damn, boy. Fewer things make him happier than seeing a hot motherfucker wearing his colors, his company’s name (like a brand, like he owns him, and the heat under his color suddenly has nothing to do with the fading sun, and he rakes his eyes over as much of the other as he can, really wishing he’d brought a camera or something). He appreciates the other man’s timing; he’d been this close to strangling one of the psychos yelling gibberish at him. (Oh, sweet Pandora; Vaas really is the only bandit he can think of that he doesn’t want to put a bullet in. Well, most of the time.) But all the shouting is starting to give him a headache and he’s glad when it finally stops, and then suddenly he’s got a smoking hot and twice as cheery puppy dog all up in his face and it’s too bad Vaas doesn’t actually have a tail, ‘cause he would have loved to see it waggin’ for him.

     “Knock yourself out, kiddo.” The gentle touch has Jack raising a curious eyebrow before a coy look curls his lips. He swings an arm over Vaas’ very distracting shoulders (seriously kid, stop being so attractive), steering him vaguely towards the buildings as he tosses the package he’s been carrying at the other. “Also– totally told you I’d bring you something. See! I’m thoughtful.”

Vaas smells like smoke and sun and Jack leans in with a sly smirk. The bandit’s good mood is infectious and Jack’s not sure whether he wants to kick or kiss the smile right off his big stupid face. He could do both, he muses, it’s more about what comes first. But he’s feeling good, so he keeps his lean close and runs wickedly gentle fingers through the other’s mo-hawk, eager to get somewhere quiet and have all that fun Vaas promised him.
     “So, sweetheart, where’s your room?”

asthehero:

( If you wanna’ win, start by playing for keeps, kiddo. After all, Jack likes keeping YOU. )

There is blood all over the kid’s mouth by the time he gets to kissing him proper; enough so, that Jack wonders if he’s gone and bitten his tongue in half, just to keep his temper in check. That’d have been disappointing as all hell. so he’s genuinely pleased to find that young Jack’s just re-opened the cut on his tongue. All those goddamn candies he eats, and not a thing about him’s any more sweet. Jack curls his tongue inside his counterpart’s mouth, a hand finding careless purchase in his hair. He knows it’ll piss him off ( it’d piss him off, and they’re practically cut from the same cloth ), but he twists his fingers into brunette locks and gives them a tug. He feels that hand around his neck, kid.

Jack pulls back, long enough to suck on his teeth and produce one hell of an annoying ‘tsk-ing’ noise. He hasn’t gone and yanked on young Jack’s hair, but he might as well, the way he leans back to arm’s length and observes him for a moment. ( Oh, okay. He’s bleeding too now. Kid’s got a bite. )
   “I mean. It’s a good start, but, uh. Award-winning material, it’s not.”

He can feel the rush of blood between his teeth, deafening in his ears, and split between the two of them (one of them? he’d say two sides of the same coin if it didn’t sound cliche and corny as hell), painting mouths shiny and red. He grunts at the hand pulling his hair and squints open his eyes from where he’d squeezed them shut. (Oh, not the hair, now this is war.)

Jack digs his fingernails into the soft flesh of his other’s throat, jaw locking tight on another bite, but not soon enough, because other Jack is pulling back and he tries to follow his mouth but the hand in his hair keeps him still, keeps him held back. He manages to stay put and quiet (a rarity indeed) as Jack observes him (smug bastard), licking his lips around a grin, the blood making them sticky in the cool air. He doesn’t say anything in retort, just makes a triumphant little hmph at the back of his throat and digs his fingers in a little harder before surging forward, feeling aggressive and intent on reclaiming Jack’s mouth, hand in his hair be damned. 

sweet fucking god just cover me in sushi and soy sauce wait that’s a kinky thing right i’m pretty sure that’s a kinky thing i don’t care fucking feed it to me

i’m thinking of making a list of mini aus and writing little fics for them or maybe rping them with ppl, they wont be anything ‘official’ just like something small i can build at when the mood strikes me !!

▽

Jack has a severe caffeine dependency. Pretty much an addiction, and can’t go even a day without his fix before he’s grouchy and head-achey and ready to kill the first person he sees. He becomes pretty much a useless, whining, homicidal mess (so, not far from the usual).

On the contrary, if he has had his caffeine for the day, he’s energetic, almost twitchy, bouncing around his office and has a subconscious refusal to even remotely sit still. With a constant supply, it takes quite a lot to burn him out and get him to sit down let alone sleep; very few are capable of keeping up with it.

▽

Jack has a major sweet tooth. And salt tooth. His insane snack cravings switch between wanting sugar to wanting salty foods after he‘s sated the sugar one. Rinse and repeat. It’s not often he gets to eat a full, healthy meal (especially with Helios’ major fast food obsession, consisting of things like skag burgers, pizza, and hot dogs) but after becoming CEO Jack frequently has very needlessly expensive and exotic foodstuffs imported from other planets.

He absolutely hates cooking, despite being pretty good at it, he finds it boring and messy and something he just doesn’t have the time for (between running a company and pretending to run a company when really he’s just playing tetris or something), so he just hires people to do it for him. Or coerces them with batting eyelashes and sweet talk. He’s usually not a picky eater unless there’s something he’s really craving and then he’ll complain until he gets.  

blasts kanye and hits the fucking gym

sorry about being so antisocial lately i’ve been really busy/frustrated with irl stuff and it’s sucking away my soooul

laughs for at least ten minutes straight at his own goddamn jokes

you make me want to go blind and deaf sometimes and right now is one of those sometimes

now that just seems counter productive, i mean, you wouldn’t be able to see my handsome ass or hear me serenade you with bad pop songs and then where would you be!! i’ll give you a hint– shit out of luck, kid, cause i’m a goddamn gift, now come unwrap me

if by unwrap you mean drag my knife up your stomach and cut your skin open and then peel your skin off of your body, sure!!! c'mere guapo, i’ll give you the fucking time of your life

oooooh baby, you know i can’t take it when you talk dirty

happy birthday to meee

i might have to take a bit of hiatus here (even tho i really don’t wannaaa) until I can find a job cause i’m slowly sliding into a desperate situation and i gotta focus on fixing that shit SO

as soon as i do though i’ll be back full force and write all the things for all the people yeee

who’s a guy gotta bribe to get some good company around here

i-say-mechro:

“Guns usually work.” 

ohhh i’m not that easy, cupcake. first you gotta’ tell me just what makes you good company. then maybe– just maybe– i’ll consider a discount.

i-say-mechro:

“Oooh I’m sorry. Let me just get out my social resume. I dunno dude. I’m pretty funny sometimes. I can beatbox.. Kind of. I’ve never had any complaints.”

you sound like a real champ, kiddo. give us a sample, i friggin’ hate false advertising. what else can you do? don’t tell me you’re a one trick pony, i’ll be sooo disappointed. 

raise your hand if you’ve actually made out with yourself. heh– god, i’m such a fucking rock star.

/raises hand.

looks into the camera like im in the office

i love tftbl so fucking much best game 2k15

I TRUSTED JACK I WANT ONE

FINGER GUNS PSHEW PSHEW

works very hard on a promo so i can branch out a little and be a TRUE RPER

ALSO WORKS ON MY TFTBL CLONE JACK VERSE because i want to play with all the tftbl peeps accept me as one of your own pls

i like hats

ok promos DONE i’ll do a starter call tomorrow or something eyy

“If there’s anything more important than my ego on this ship, I want it caught and shot right now.”