d’you ever have one of those days where just, everything pisses you off, and you don’t even know why and then you get angry that you’re so pissed off? yeah, that was my day.
so i made french toast. like– a shit ton of french toast. i’m not even kidding, there is not a clear space in my kitchen it’s just lined with frickin’ french toast. someone come help me eat if before i blast the entire load out of an airlock.
well, i mean, there’s certainly enough of this stuff everywhere. and i doubt either of us are going to make it out of bed at all. buuut, that entirely depends of what you feel like eating.
Ohh, the pain. I’m here taking bullets for your vault, but by all means, complain about too much french toast.
and here i was going to share with you, but now.
hey, you accepted this job on your own volition, sweetheart, so don’t come crying to me. and don’t act like you’re doin’ me a frickin’ favor– i am paying you, buttloads of cash, remember?
I really doubt you were going to share with me. I’m not /crying/, I’m complaining. You know, that thing you do every five minutes?
you’re right, i wasn’t, but only because you’re a goddamn stick in the mud. seriously, live a little, athena!! also i’m theboss, i’m allowed to complain.
I’ve lived for nearly thirty years now, but thanks for your concern.
pssh yeah– boringly. seriously, what do you even do for fun– or are you like, fun-deficient. i’m sure i could get someone in R&D to fix that. i mean. if you want.
oooor you could just come to one of my parties like everyone else on helios and do something wild for a change, like, gee, i dunno– enjoy yourself.
Awww, is the little baby learning how to cook for himself?
fuuuck you!! i’ve been cooking since i could walk, thank you very much. i just happen to only do it when i’m super stressed. usually i just take bubble baths
not hungry spider ants, thankfully. but y’know. the usual. also the board won’t sign off on my super awesome ‘giant slip-n-slide that runs all the way through helios’ idea.
Ohh. Huh. Thanks for giving me that info about you. What’s wrong, cute thing? Want me to give you a massage? Need help with your paperwork? Want to come tan on my island?
yeah, use it wisely, babe.
aaall that and more. also– quick question: how to you feel about bubble baths
man part of me reaaally misses having an art blog cause i really do like sharing my stuff with people but so many of them misuse my stuff and it gets so dang frustrating. i’ve been stuck in a rut for like a month and a half and just shut down and unable to share with anybooody
tldr; i want to make a new art blog but IM SO TORN
reminder that this blog is 18+ and i don’t feel comfortable with minors following me
also that jack isn’t fucking real and it’s okay to like the horrible things he does because they aren’t actually being done, they are fiction. thank u and goodnigh t
i can’t believe Handsome Jack is a fucking stress baker
i am bored and have no life
I love this because I have known stress bakers and found that the act of stress baking doesn’t really alleviate their stress, if just makes them stressed and having too many baked goods to eat. So: accurate.
oh yeah i forgot to mention i’m taking a break with commissions so my shoulder can heal but i should be okay to get back to drawing in about a week tops!! hopefullyyy
It requires three things. A shit ton more eridium, some intelligent but ultimately expendable allies who are okay with a suicide mission and Hammerlock’s prosthetic arm. I really need that arm.
If we pool both our supplies together it might be enough. And cash always solves the expendable allies problem. Aaaand– just the arm? Why not get the leg too while we’re at it. Heh.
Are you going to drag ALL of that here? Are you really? You’re that into this plan we’ve hatched? [he’s delighted why thank you young hotness]
No, no. We need intelligent, but expendable. Cashwhores will do anything for money, BUT die. They’d even steal an arm, which, I actually may need them to do. Just the arm though, I don’t need the leg. The arm is what’s going to make this entire plan airtight. Ya’ following me?
That really depends on how much we’ll need. I still need some of it for– y’know. Stuff. [ you know what stuff,]
Well– where do you plan on finding these ‘allies’, then? Intelligent and expendable is a rare-ass combination, babe. Oh hey– I got an idea, let’s start a friggin’ cult. Or something. I dunno– you come up with something better, I’ll handle the robot arm– thingy. Also– uuuuh no, not really. But, I’m all for it.
i’ve made a decision im going to make that new art blog and just cover every inch of anything i do in watermarks because my ego is too large not to share with the world but also i hate 99% of people on this website SO
i found the worlds smallest gun and proceeded to lose my shit over it
puttin' moxxi's toys to good use HAHA
good angle
jack laughing alone with salad
hot babs
LASER WARS
shh nothing to see here
more elpis adventures!!
this time an 8 hour session with lawbrought, kadamkills, and gladictor these were the only good caps i got though
i killed myself with the zarp laser a whole lot and then blew up kadamkills like 11 times with those overcharged bomb things because im a cheeky lil’ SHIT
hey if you guys see any jack blogs using my art, avoid em, because they are shitty and really do not have my permission to use my art. ANY blogs tbh
the only people that have my permission/bought art from me and are actually using it (as far as i know) are lawbrought, wickedgunslinger, and ofinsanidad
It was no news that the CEO was easy on the eyes but covered
in bandit guts? Damn. She’d have to take a mental picture- wasn’t every day she had
the pleasure of seeing Jack on the battlefield. Definitely suited him more than being hunched over his desk in some
stuffy room, anyway. The way he stood so triumphantly well…it almost made
up for the embarrassing struggle he had with a stuck sleeve. Almost.
She struts past, just slow enough to capture the Ceo’s
feigning attention before snapping her fingers onto his wrist. A wicked grin
melts across her countenance, she’s
planning something. It’s the same look she gives before coaxing him into
wearing her gear… among other things.
Lifting his arm to give a bow, her fixation quickly snaps to a bandit’s head
peeking behind brunette locks.
“Try not to step on my feet cowboy,” a sultry voice muses
before pulling them together tightly and entwining their fingers together. Guy loved a show after all, so why not
have a little fun? Her free hand draws a silver barrel, releasing a single
bullet. It flies aimlessly over Jack’s shoulder, and nestles itself into their invader’s
throat with a satisfying gurgle. She
eyes him for a moment, sneer not fading from violet hued lips before she pulls
back, twisting herself underneath his arm so that her back was turned. “Blap, blap~” the gunslinger purrs, releasing even more lead into the air.
The cacophony of shattered kneecaps mix ever so sweetly with hollowed wails. Her favorite song to dance to.
“Keep up handsome-“
A pistol worn hand doesn’t ease its grip, pulling up sharply as both hands
float above his head. She spins herself back so that their faces meet once
again, before dipping him for easy access to their next assailant; who just so
happened to be running (quite sloppily if
she might add) towards the CEO. “Better
not miss~”
The sight of Nisha, in anything really, is always enough to get him to stare after her, ( wondering how he got so lucky, and then remembering it’s ‘cause he’s awesome ), head tilted and very distracted. The rough grip and the grin on her face sends a shiver down his spine. He’s always excited for whatever Nisha comes up with, be it in battle or in bed ( there isn’t often a difference with them ).
Jack’s face betrays his confusion for a moment before he’s pulled in close, and he reflexively wraps his free arm around her waist. “Have I ever?” He smiles wide, enjoying this little game immensely. He follows her lead, watching her even as the bandit body count piles up around them and hums a little tune as they go through the steps.
He’s having so much fun he almost kisses her right then and there, blood stained face and all, but soon finds himself bent backwards in a dip and staring at an upside down bandit coming at them at moderate speed. He smirks, raising his arm and readying the shot— and then taps the watch around his wrist.
It takes less than ten seconds for the moonshot shell to be deployed and come crashing down on the bandit’s location, not even twenty feet away from them.
Jack lets out an excited holler and his arms shoot up in celebration; his new moonshot guidance systems are working like a charm.
“Every little move” could be someone’s last, as far as anyone was concerned.
You learned quick, that while Hyperion favored the loyal, the bold and the innovative, a single misstep could cost you everything, and your life was not the worst that you could have taken from you. Ambitious young men, such as Rhys, had to walk the line between ambitious and subtle enough to not draw attention from upper management, who had the disposition of sharks that had scented blood in the water, if they felt someone was threatening their positions.
It all boiled down to: don’t fuck with the big leagues until you knew you’d succeed. Which meant that being in the middle of Jack’s office was exactly where he did NOT want to be at that point in his career, and for all the wrong reasons. He’d rather be there because he’d done something so stellar, in Jack’s eyes, that the CEO himself would praise him for a job well done. Oh Rhys, he’d say, where have you been all my life? I’ve been looking for a man just like you, all these years, someone dependable and intelligent. I see much of myself in you–
Except Jack was saying none of these things, and the not-so-subtle threat in Jack’s voice was enough to jar Rhys from his reverie. “I’ve already amended the contract and acquired the patents, and within four months, profit will have outstripped the monetary losses,” he protests, managing to hiss the last syllable as he was struck across the face. Next thing he knows, he’s on the floor, his prosthetic limb clattering mechanically as he reaches out to catch himself before his aching head smacks off the ground below.
What the fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck. This is not good, he thinks, and lifts his eyes from the floor to locate Jack, immediately. “ – I swear,” in the midst of his voice cracking, “I’m going to make this up to you, I, I I, I’m already making this up to you.”
“You sureare, kiddo.” Jack stalks towards him before kicking him down the few stairs of the higher landing that Jack’s desk is located on. He jumps down after him, practically vibrating with a combination of rage and violent glee and making sure Rhys is face up before he pins the kid down to the floor, resting the weight of his knees on Rhys’ elbows and wrapping his hands around his throat.
Strangulation has always been Jack’s favorite. By now he’s lost count of how many times he’s ‘fired’ someone via crushing their windpipe. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of watching the light leave someone’s bulging eyes as their face turns various shades of purple, feeling the tendons snap beneath giving flesh. It excites him– in more ways than one. Jack shushes the man underneath him, quick and soft, fingers digging in as he fights any struggle the other gives.
He’ll have to remember to tell Blake to send the kid’s family some flowers and compensation for their loss. Such pretty face too, Jack thinks to himself, what a waste.
No, we weren’t. There’s never a good fucking part with you. Fuck you. Suck my dick, you annoying motherfucker.
Of course there is, I’m all good parts, baby. Also, that’s not what you said last night. I believe it was more along the lines of ‘oh god yes more you amazing, sexy, bronze god you’. Heh, yeah, that sounds much more familiar.
Yeaaaaaaah, because that’s totally something I would say, right? Uh huh. Sure, Jack. Sure. Hey hey hey, you like me, right? It’s my birthday. Let me punch you in the face. Or somewhere. Let me punch you somewhere.
Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack.
What—- no. You can punch one of my doubles, how about that. Seriously though, just how badly do you want to lose thatother hand ? And, y’know, the pleasure of my fantastic company. Which you will lose. Both of. If you come anywhere near me with the intent of any bodily harm.
“In my defense, it wasn’t that hard to coerce you. You practically jumped at the opportunity, babe.
♥
♥
♥
”
“Let’s face it, this is hardly the worst thing you’ve gotten me to do. You really need to step up your game if you’re gonna compete with Ms.Kadam of all people, though.
On second thought– prooobably shouldn’t have said that last part out loud.“
There’s nothing on netflix. asthehero, hypelios fix this you useless assholes.
Ughh, it’s like four am, why are you calling meee—–
Wait– aren’t you like, a pirate ? Why the hell are you watching netflix, go pirate something decent you poor excuse for a bandit. I mean, everybody else friggin’ does it. Maybe actual pirates don’t and it’s some sort of sweet irony. Huh.
Excuuuuuuuse me for not being a stereotypical pirate, dickwipe. What, you want me to go around saying arr, matey and wear a hook instead of a normal fucking hand? My bad, princess. I like using netflix because I’m lazy. Also, you know, it’s technically not four AM. Time is a fucking social construct and doesn’t really exist in our single dimension, so realistically speaking, I have no idea what time it is, and neither do you. It’s fucking irrelevant, is my point!
Hmm, I’m sensing a costume opportunity. I’m sure you’d look amazing in one of those frilly shirts. Maybe even an eye patch.
It’s four am because I fucking sayit is, honeybear. See, I need my freakin’ beauty sleep. Granted, some of us need a hell of a lot more than sleep– but I digress. My point is, stop calling me about stupid shit in the dead hours of my space station, ok, pumpkin ? I’ll send you some DVDs or somethin’– how ‘bout that.
Uh, yeah, no. I’ll dress up as a stereotypical, sexy pirate only if you dress up like a sexy bumblebee. Honeybear, huh?? So, are you going to suck the honey out of me? Ha. Ha. Ugggh, alright, I’m sorry for calling you this late at night. There’s just no one else to talk to, and you’re fun and I like you and I’m bored.
You say that like I don’t already have several variations of that outfit in the back of my closet.
Thaaat all depends on how sweet you are, baby. And you’re certainly on the right track. Aww, your little bandit friends not so great conversationalists? Or do you really like me that much. I’m so flattered.
Tell you what– since I’m already awake, I’ll let you sneaky-sneak up to Helios and come be lazy and watch bad movies with me in bed. And maybe afterwards, we can break out the costumes– whaddya say, tiger.
Ohoh? Since when do you know so much about blood sports? Take it you would consider it a bit… déclassé for your tastes, Mr.Hyperion. Not gonna lie imagining you all down and gritty only makes me like you more. Wouldn’t wanna get in the ring yourself, would ya?
Since I started dating you– I’m pretty sure our relationship can be classified as a blood sport.
And, are you kiddin’? That’s like a Saturday night on Helios.
Pff– of course I wouldn’t, that’s what I pay other people for. Duh.
