September 2015

im hoping i can get to some replies tonight but i had a super shitty day and im gonna play some games to cheer myself up bUT if im not completely exhausted by then im gonna jump all over all of you (but especially vaas and boss jack xoxo)

raises hand to be judge for the lap dance contest

NO

yeah but you don’t deserve it

YOU’RE BIASED SO NO FUCK OFF

nah, you can take your biased ass to her and give her all the points. i hope you jizz in your pants

Yeah, I’ll spit it back in your fucking face alright.

…Alright, this was getting hot, but you just made it super unhot by talking like a dwarf. Nevermind.

balancingpcint:

Holy shit, excuse me, princess. I don’t necessarily have time to sit around in my huge ass office with my stupid sneakers kicked up on my desk all day while I read stupid books. Some people actually have to work on the job. Don’t call me an uncultured swine again or I am going to shave all of your hair off next time I knock you out.

Aaand that’s exactly your problem, sassafras; you should take a page out of ol’Pappy Jack’s book and kick the fuck back for a minute– jeez.

I’ll call you whatever I want, cuddle-cakes. See, that’s one of the perks of sitting around in my huge ass office with my amazing sneakers kicked up on my desk while I read some really interesting books about the various positions one can be pegged in, so—- yeah.

Also, I’m just wondering how badly you want your hair touching privileges revoked– cause right now? I’m feeling for the next 800 years, at least.

balancingpcint:

Uh huh, sure, let me just go ahead and do that. I have shit to do, you asshole.

Well, sugar blossom butt, your sneakers are still shitty. You would look better with boots. You can revoke my hair touching privileges all you want, you are going to end up wanting them anyway, isn’t that fucking right, handsome baby boo?

Yeah– and if I’m not at the top of your to-do list, then I don’t care, sweet-cheeks.

Oh-hoh-hoh, you wanna play the nickname game, huh? Don’t bite off more than you can chew there, monkey chiclets. I can’t wear boots all the time– do you have any idea how long it takes to walk from one end of Helios to the other? Even with the trains and my segway? Gotta have comfort, baby. And contrary to your belief, I do actually do work around here.

Not if you’re threatening to shave it off. That’s like, the worst thing you could do to me. But mostly yourself. Becaause I’d kill you.

balancingpcint:

Ehhh, you’re somewhere around the top, but not exactly. You are being a little bitch right now, sooo.

By the way, I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about. I wear boots all day and I walk all over my fucking island and all over fucking Pandora with these on. You just have delicate feet, apparently. Because, you know, you’re such a fucking princess.

Oh my god, stop freaking out. I’m not going to shave off your hair. It’s too much fucking fun to pull when I have you on your knees.

Hey– you started it.

Yeah, but are you walking the length of Pandora back and forth like a million times a day because your shithead employees can’t ever do their friggin’ jobs properly? Actually, now that I think about it, you probably do. Freakin’ bandits, amiright?

But speaking of shithead employees!! You’re a real peach, way to turn that one around on me, I am honestly impressed.

thank you tumblr, for yet again breaking everything and forcing me to fix it myself cause that is exactly what i needed today

suddenly and aggressively wants to make a modern verse with dameon clarke as my faceclaim

balancingpcint:

Keep reading

Jack is dizzy and near suffocating in the hot and heavy air, and the freezing touch around his dick has his hips jerking hard at the contrast, Vaas’ grip the only thing keeping him from falling off. It’s an unfamiliar sensation, but he doesn’t get the chance to complain about it before the other’s hands are around his windpipe and stealing the air from his lungs. His breath is ragged, the rush of it loud and panting and he glares with as much menace as he can muster before his eyes shut, overloaded by the combination of restrained blood flow to his drugged out mind and both of Vaas’ hands on him.

He sits up in his position on the pirate’s lap, gripping the wrist of the hand choking him and clearing the heat in his throat with a harsh ‘ahem’.
     “That all depends on whether or not you’re gonna do somethin’ about it.” He manages, his voice low and sultry. He hadn’t thought Vaas would have caught on to his biggest kink so quickly, and he’s a little taken aback, but more impressed with the man than anything. And it shows, if the hardness proudly jutting out between his legs is any indication. His fingers grip down hard on Vaas’ wrist, threatening to bruise and offering up a challenge.

He stretches his neck back, giving Vaas more room to work with and sighing long, his hips still moving in little unconscious circles as his muscles relax again. His voice is already turning hoarse.
     “Mm– please tell me you have some actual lube around here, ‘cause I am not using anything weird again.”

balancingpcint:

Keep reading

A hot rage licks its way up Jack’s spine and makes his heart pound like a hammer inside his chest as Vaas’ words simmer low in his gut. His hips thrust despite it, and it just makes him all the angrier. When the slap comes, Jack’s so taken aback by it that he’s stunned into silence for a few moments. It doesn’t hurt too badly, given the protection of his mask, it’s more the pirate’s audacity that stings him. And just like an overflowing dam, he breaks down the middle. 

Jack yanks at the hand holding his chin and works his jaw until there’s flesh and bone between his teeth and then, while staring straight into Vaas’ eyes, he bites— bites until he can taste blood blooming on his tongue and bites until he’s certain Vaas knows just how badly he fucked up. 

When Jack slaps him back, it isn’t gently, and he releases the other’s hand just long enough to hiss down at him. He’s no longer relaxed and is instead using all his weight to pin the other to the bed as effectively as he can.
     “I’m sorry, what was that?” He licks at the red smear clinging to his lips before he continues, the copper taste and rush of adrenaline adding to his high. “I’m think you’re due for a lesson on manners, kiddo.”

He clenches a fist around the one around his cock and his other around Vaas’ neck. If Vaas wants to play the stranglin’ game, Jack’s going to be some tough competition. He chides the other man through clenched teeth, his erection still throbbing between them.
     “I didn’t hear a pretty fucking please.” 

balancingpcint:

Keep reading

Jack grunts at the tugging hand in his hair. He’d be offended at the affront to his locks if he wasn’t already at a boiling point with the other man. He bounces on the mattress, his teeth barred and growling low and hoarse in his throat. He wants to sink his teeth into that tanned neck and yank his head back until he’s bathed in the pirates blood, and goddamn if the thought doesn’t turn him on. His own blood rushes quickly to his head from where it hangs off the side of the bed and Jack tries to couple his thoughts together long enough to re-gain the upper hand.

He shivers when more of his lower body is exposed, but it’s not from the cold. If anything, it’s gotten hotter with the added violence. He hums a laugh as the affectionate gesture, a soft snorting exhale as his reddened lips split to reveal shiny white teeth, like an open wound on his face. Like it’s a big joke that only he knows the punchline to. 
     “Hehehmm— something tells me you really don’t get how expendable you are to me, do you.” It’s said softly and matter-of-factly, barely a whisper. Jack really doesn’t appreciate being talked down to, and what battles he loses physically, he’ll make up for with his sharp and unapologetic tongue. 

Jack relaxes back like he doesn’t have a care in the world as Vaas retrieves the lube, pulling a leg up so he can shove his boot none too gently in Vaas’ face from his reclined position. If Vaas insists on calling him a Princess, he better damn well treat him like one. He doesn’t bother reading any labels, instead just opens the cap with a heady nonchalance, as if Vaas isn’t even there, and pours a decent amount across his fingers.  It heats up quickly on his skin and he grunts in quiet appreciation– Nisha likes the temperature play too. 

     “Then fucking do it already, sunshine.”
He takes the tube in his shiny hands and squeezes it in Vaas’ direction until it’s contents shoot out with a wet noise and splatter all over the other man’s chest in childish retaliation. He barks a laugh, finding it way funnier than he should. He sits up, braced on his elbows, and tosses the now mostly empty tube somewhere over his shoulder.
     “Nu-uh, I’m your guest, remember? Why don’t you do something useful for a friggin’ change.” He gestures widely to his exposed middle, eyebrows raised expectantly.

     “Also, if you call me baby boy again I’m gonna make sure you’re incapable of having any.”

—— seraphsystem  .

He’s way past being just short of breath as he runs through the metal halls of Helios; air rushing through his lungs but all it does is burn, the stitch in his side making it even harder to breathe as he leans against a hidden corner. His head thumps numbly against the cool wall as he holds his ribs and wishes he’d gotten to the gym a little more before all this. But he’s come too far already– sacrificed too much. He’s too close to stop now.

Having the communications system in Helios down is a bigger pain in the ass than he’s willing to admit, and it means he doesn’t have his Guardian Angel to guide his way. Even though the Vault Hunters he’s hired are working hard to shut down the jamming signal on Elpis, Jack can’t wait any longer. The Lost Legion are dogging him at every turn, and he’s getting really tired of laser burns on his favorite pair of pants.

If he could just get a strong enough signal to the satellite orbiting Pandora— he could re-establish contact with his eyes and ears and get this Lost Legion Problem dealt with.

He has a plan. If he can redirect communications from the commerce grid he could probably stretch it just far enough to catch the satellite and link it to his Echo. It’ll be a schlep, but he’s jerry rigged far more complicated crap in the past. ( I mean, just look at Clap-Trap. )

He takes a few deep breathes, psyching himself up to run through another road block of soldiers. As handy as he is with his lasers, he doesn’t think the one verses an entire army odds are really in his favor. Once he’s recuperated, he shoves himself off the wall like a rubber band snapping, using the speed of someone who’s not in layers of heavy armor to his advantage and bolting through geometrical bushes and benches down the pathways towards where he knows the commerce section is. They spot him, but the lasers are the only thing that can keep up with him. A couple graze him, and he hits the wall at the end of a hall hard, cursing and limping his way into a ventilation shaft that should bring him right where he needs to be. The streaks of blood he leaves behind should concern him more, but he ignores them, focusing solely on his plan. 

The main communications room is blissfully empty– Zarpedon probably doesn’t think anyone would try and use a signal that only stretches far enough to radio incoming ships to the cargo bay, but that’s where she’s mistaken. Jack kicks open the terminal panel, gingerly sitting on his heels to pull at wires and redirect things where he needs them to go. He finally looks over his wounds as it synchronizes and hisses between his teeth. They’re probably going to scar. He’s really wishing he’d bought more med-hypos. The screen fizzles to life and Jack reaches for the com button, fingers slippery with his own blood. He tries to not let his voice shake, he doesn’t want her to worry about a couple flesh wounds.

     “Angel? You there, baby?”

balancingpcint:

Keep reading

Jack had expected the violence, had counted on it, but he’d be lying if he said getting punched in the face with a fist full of metal felt any kind of nice. But god, was it satisfying to get Vaas so riled up, to get so deep under his skin so easily. It makes Jack laugh through the blood pouring out of his nose and mouth, a breathless hyena-esque cackle through his constricted windpipe.
     “Ohh, big bad bandit, aren’cha?.” He spits out some of the copper flooding his mouth. “You have no clue how easy you’re making this, kid.” Jack almost feels sorry for him. Vaas has no idea how vulnerable he makes himself, wanting Handsome goddamned Jack to care. But that fury and challenge in the other’s eyes is like a fucking drug, and it keeps him coming back. But they’re both stubborn as hell, and if something doesn’t give, they might up actually killing each other. 

Jack sighs, his face is killing him and he’s done with this foreplay already. The hand around his neck has little bolts of fire curling in the base of his spine and he wraps his legs around Vaas’ waist the best he can from his position, thrusting up into that grip.
     “Mm, such a brute.” Jack chides, but he swipes a hand across his mask, coating his fingers in sticky red and then across the mess he made on the pirate’s chest, mixing blood and lube. “You have no idea.”  It’s hard to focus with Vaas’ attentions, but he sneaks his hand south to finger himself open, his thumb stroking across the back of Vaas’ knuckles in a tender gesture. To calm him? To mock him? Jack will never tell.

He makes a show of pleasuring himself, all head thrown back and throaty noises, brow furrowed and tongue occasionally poking out to lick his lips clean of blood. His throat clicks when he swallows the copper down, and he can’t keep his hips from twitching up. He gets up to three in quick succession, and looks at Vaas with raised eyebrows as if the last half an hour hadn’t happened and he wasn’t currently dripping with his own blood with Vaas’ hands around his neck and dick. He breathes in a dragging and ragged breath under Vaas’ grip.   
     “You gonna help me out with this, ooor do I actually have to do everything myself?”

asthehero:

Keep reading

Jack’s coherent enough to feel the cool chill of air across his back and the too-warm hands that slice through it, despite how warm his own body feels. He can feel the heated breathing on the crook oh his neck and he hums a long sigh, far too comfortable to move until he’s shifted across the other’s lap and suddenly far too aware of the friction on his own skin. His sighing turns into small gasps, his face buried in older-Jack’s shoulder as he lets him have free reign.

The heat in his belly keeps building, and the fire of it fuels his body to move in increasing increments. A subtle roll of his hips, fingers gripping tight into the fabric of the other’s shirt, his heart beating faster. There’s the sweet promise of violence under those gentle touches and it’s driving Jack insane with the anticipation.  

He sits up with the hand around his throat to guide and support him, keep him from falling flat on his face as all his blood rushes south and makes him dizzy all over again. His exposed skin feels cold and he instinctively leans towards that hand on his chest, trying to soak up the heat into his entire body with just the contact. His breathing is getting too fast and he curses softly under it.

     “Never better.” He replies, through the low rhythmic throbbing of his head and the matching one between his legs. He leans in then, more on autopilot than anything else now, and presses masked lips to masked lips in a heavy kiss. The closer her gets to his alternate self, the less he feels likely to quite literally come apart at the seams. So he clings like he’s never clung to anyone before— all desperate hands and a mouth whose lies are useless against himself. It makes him feel weirdly vulnerable and exposed, so he presses his mouth harder to sweep the sensation under the rug and replace it with on he actually knows how to deal with, lust.

Have you ever eaten something that has the same color and consistency of cum? Cause that’s what I’ve got in store for me tonight. So yeaaah, don’t recommend over-microwaving icing, kiddies. Seriously– unless you’re trying to pull some sort of elaborate prank, or you’re planning on throwing at someone and giving them third-degree burns. Or, yknow, both. Then, you have my highest recommendations.

…Uh huh. Well, it probably doesn’t taste as shitty as cum, so.

I dunno, I could most likely make something way better, but hey, if you wanna netflix and chill with cinnasticks, I’m up for it.

Sure, whatever. We can do a horror movie /after/ I bake some real good shit for you. I don’t like you eating so much crap all the time.

balancingpcint:

Keep reading

Jack groans back at him, a rush of breath through his nose as his mouth is busy giving back as good as it’s getting. He likes the taste of it between them, and admires the way the red stains Vaas’ own mouth.
     “Same to you, sweetheart.” Only Jack would think of something much, much worse for the bandit pirate. “It’s funny you should say that, becau—-mmf!”

The fingers in his mouth are a surprise, and Jack fights to relax his throat and keep his intense gag reflex at bay, trying to focus solely on Vaas finally getting down to business, even if he can’t keep his jaw from locking tight and teeth biting down on the offending digits. But that part’s mostly on purpose.

Jack’s loud, frustrated whine around his mouth-full and roll of his eyes are the only complaints he can manage at Vaas’ teasing , wiggling his hips try and get things moving faster, each movement punctuated by several more muffled sounds at the abuse to his neck. He’s reached the point now where the battle’s been fought and all he is is a creature of need— And right now he needs Vaas to hurry his ass up.

His skin feels like fire, flickering with the heat inside of him and he’s really trying to hold back the noises he’s making because goddamn does he not want to give Vaas the satisfaction, but he’s always been very vocal in bed, and now is no exception. His jaw clenches with each sound, the feel of that hardness inside of him, and a fresh wave of blood blooms on his tongue, whether from Vaas’ fingers or his own flesh he isn’t sure, and at this point, really doesn’t care. He breathes in hard, nose flaring and heart bottoming out inside his chest at Vaas’ agonizing pace.

He hangs his head off the edge of the bed, but he’s unsatisfied with the feeling that Vaas hasn’t learned who the boss is yet. He brings a shaky hand up to smear the blood on Vaas’ mouth into a garish painted grin, his thighs clenching harder around Vaas’ waist and effectively trapping him close enough that Jack can wrap his hands around that thick column of throat and squeeze. To at least put them on even ground, even if it does nothing to quell his rising tempo behind the pirate’s fingers or the overloading sensation of lightning fire in the base of his spine, making his dick and balls ache and his face throb with each rush of blood through his veins.  

sorry for my inactivity lately ive been having a lot of headache trouble and im trying to get art stuff going but ill take a day off soon to do my replies xoxo

▽

He commissioned Hyperion scientists to make it in his image, (with some minor adjustments), and out of a material that would move like skin would. He started wearing it before the wound beneath had even finished healing.

Jack’s mask is smoother than skin, doesn’t tan, and doesn’t bleed. It’s as close an imitation that Hyperion scientists could come up with without it actually being skin. It has no nerves, so Jack can’t feel it, and is connected by alloyed clasps grafted to his skull. (Two on forehead, two on his jaw under his ear, and one on his chin; the ‘sideburns’ are just added decoration to the mask).

Jack rarely takes it off. Mostly only to shower or to remind himself of what he’s doing it all for. (The anger, resentment, betrayal; there are a hundred and one words to describe how he feels when he sees that thick scar splitting his face beneath the mask. The price of his future power.) He takes comfort it in, and feels more himself with it on. Like he’s been wearing a mask his whole life, and now he actually is and he’s never felt more free.

Jack knows it’s a mask, and doesn’t pretend otherwise, unless he’s fucking with someone who’s tip-toeing around that fact, but he still very much considers it his ‘face’.

▽

Jack is what’s known as a bratty bottom, preferring to fight against rules or authority to get punished by his highly dominant girlfriends, (but he’ll always surrender to them eventually). With boys, Jack’s a little different. Jack will rarely relinquish power to another man, preferring to ‘bottom from the top’. Jack is bisexual (with a heavy preference for the ladies) and autosexual.  

Jack likes to be worshiped, especially in bed, a selfish lover through and through. But Jack won’t for a second let anyone believe that he’s weak, or that he can’t take power.