June 2015

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???

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.

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?”

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

I TRUSTED JACK I WANT ONE

FINGER GUNS PSHEW PSHEW

ofinsanidad:

Vaas doesn’t respond to the whistling and to the way Jack is very clearly checking him out. He’s wearing that shirt to please Jack, sure, but Jack should already know how Vaas reacts to flattery regarding his appearance. He doesn’t respond to them. He can admit the shirt looks good on him, though. It’s tight-fitting, and he’s been in a healthier shape these past few weeks. He grins at Jack, grabbing the jacket from around his waist. He looks great with it off, but he doesn’t bother saying it because Jack already knows. How ‘bout that narcissism, huh? Vaas is certainly not judging, though. He’s alllll for people believing in themselves and reaching for their dreams and all that bullshit.

“Wow. I thought you were fucking around about the fruit basket thing. Thank you! Really. I fucking mean that shit. I appreciate it, annnd I appreciate you.” He does during moments like these. When Jack is giving him a hard time?? There’s nothing he wants to do more than to blow him up. He takes the basket from Jack’s grip too, leading him to his room and away from everybody out here. It’s loud all the time in the compound, but that’s why Vaas has thick walls. He needs peace of mind here and there, and he always hides away in his room when he needs everything to be fucking silent. He brings Jack in, shutting the door behind both of them and grabbing a bundle of grapes from the basket. He eats them right off the stem, motioning Jack to sit down on his mattress. It’s on the floor, so it’s not exactly King treatment, but at least it’s comfortable and large. He exhales heavily, sitting down across from the other man, his joints and matchbook already set nearby. He’s not a fan of sharing, buuut he’s okay with sharing with Jack, especially after he was sweet enough to bring him fruit. Vaas loves that shit. 

“You look like you seriously need to relax. This is the mild shit, but it works well on relaxing. You already know this. I have anything you might want, but I really suggest this. Loosen up those muscles, handsome.” He lights up one of the joints, taking the first inhale from it and then passing it over to Jack. If he wants to do something rougher, then Vaas isn’t going to say no. He genuinely fucking wants Jack to take it easy for at least a few hours, though. 

Vaas appreciating him makes Jack feel giddy and he laughs before he can stop himself. (It’s affectionate, and very unlike his usual point and mocking laugh.) He quietly follows Vaas, observing his compound along the way. The noise of it is infectious, and then it’s nothing but silence when the door is closed.

Jack takes stock of the room, an eyebrow raised high, but sits down anyway, his face still skeptical about the state of the place. When Vaas sits, pulling up his stash, Jack huffs and scoots closer without any regard to Vaas’ personal space. (Or maybe he does, and he’s just violating it on purpose. He’ll admit he’s wanted to climb the man like a tree since he showed up in that friggin’ shirt.)
     “Can’t argue with that, now can I?” He watches the bandit take a hit, licking his teeth and taking the joint when it’s offered to him. He admires the curling smoke for a second before putting it to his lips. “Hmm, When in Rome.”  

He breathes in deep, smoke unfurling into his lungs and he holds it there for a second, letting it go with a whoosh through pursed mouth. It’s a very different taste to his cheap cigarettes, but he can feel the haze from it settling over him and he sighs, muscles relaxing slightly. He eyes the man across from him, his already scarce inhibitions lowering and feeling suddenly cheeky, He takes another quick drag and leans toward him in a flash, grabbing the back of Vaas’ neck and pulling him forward until their mouths are pressed hard together, the smoke twisting into the heated space between them. 

What. I don’t know what’s happening but I’m in.

mutant fruit but also i’m inviting you to a party. in my pants.

that’s great and all but i think you could have phrased it better than “mixing your peanut butter with your chocolate”

shuddup i was hungry

and i hate porridge

how are you hungry if all you do is vacuum up every single sweet thing you see

you’re just mad i won’t eat you too

That’s fine, I’ll just eat /you/ instead.

a-ah, uhh– fuck i don’t have a good comeback to that other than ‘yes please’ 

Aww, you’re soooooo cute. I want to strangle you.

mmm, you really know how to sweet talk a guy, don’t you

I know how to do a lot of things. With my mouth, and with my hands, and with my fingers. But who cares, right? Juuuuust a bandit.

okay i see you fishin’ there and i’ll give you what you want. not juuust a bandit, my faaaavortie bandit. i like you, what else do you want from me, here !!

What do I want?? What do you want? You are the one whining, not me. I don’t even think I believe that whole my-favorite-bandit bullshit. I don’t know, baby boy.

you wound me, how many other bandits do you think i like?? hint: you’re the only one. and that’s saying a lot because usually i hate bandits. take the compliment, kiddo. also i am not whining!!

i know what i want. it’s you, me, and happens to involve a lot of tongue and mutual strangulation. so just truuuust me for once and we’ll have a good time, ok, pumpkin?