April 2015

look at this damn fabulous set of fine bitches

i’m getting married to all of you no exceptions

Dare.

Eat a lemon without flinching.

Jack stares at the offending fruit on his desk with a scowl. He wasn’t too big on fruit in the first place, but this— this was just madness.
     “Where did you even—? You know what, nevermind.”

He rolls it towards himself and picks it up, flicking out his favorite knife to cut away a chunk of the yellow skin. His favorite color too, how ironic. The acid in the air hits him before he can even get it to his mouth, burning his eyes with how strong it was. He really didn’t want to know how it’d feel on his chapped lips, (Nisha likes to bite, and so does he). Even with the mask on, he really doesn’t wanna do this.

     “Okay, no.” He throws it somewhere behind his chair, enjoying the splat it makes on his planet-view windows. He’d get someone to clean it up later. “Not doin’ that. Is there like uh, a penalty game or something? That isn’t ridiculous or painful?“

Dare.

steakandrobots:

thathandsomejack-blog-blog--blog:

Eat a lemon without flinching.

Jack stares at the offending fruit on his desk with a scowl. He wasn’t too big on fruit in the first place, but this— this was just madness.
     “Where did you even—? You know what, nevermind.”

He rolls it towards himself and picks it up, flicking out his favorite knife to cut away a chunk of the yellow skin. His favorite color too, how ironic. The acid in the air hits him before he can even get it to his mouth, burning his eyes with how strong it was. He really didn’t want to know how it’d feel on his chapped lips, (Nisha likes to bite, and so does he). Even with the mask on, he really doesn’t wanna do this.

     “Okay, no.” He throws it somewhere behind his chair, enjoying the splat it makes on his planet-view windows. He’d get someone to clean it up later. “Not doin’ that. Is there like uh, a penalty game or something? That isn’t ridiculous or painful?“

“Okay.” He replied nonchalantly, seeming /way/ too prepared for that response.

“Eat it from the other end.” He replied, straight-faced as he reached for his drink, and briefly hid his smirk by downing it.

     “I– Wh– I-I–…” Jack sputters in response. “Tell me you didn’t just tell me to shove a lemon up my ass,” he blinks, dumbfounded. “I’m gonna– Oh my god.” He can’t even come up with a good threat in response. A lemon!! Seriously!!

     “Get outta my office!!” If he still had the stupid fruit in his hands he’d fucking chuck it at Wilhelm’s dumb head. He opts for a pad of sticky notes instead. Close enough, but god, he wishes he had something heavier.

Ass Lemons

steakandrobots:

The speechlessness alone was so worth it that he just let the notepad flop against his grin and hit the floor.  

“Didn’t know you were that weak willed in truth or dare Jackie. You opted for the penalty” He taunted.

“Come on. Pick an end. I’ll even warm the lube.” 

     “Well you better pick a different penalty, ‘cause you aren’t coming anywhere near me with that thing.“ Jack huffs. He– a lemon, for chrissakes!! He’s into some kinky shit, he’ll admit– but sticking highly acidic fruit where the sun don’t shine was far from being on his list

     “Besides, I can think of all kinds of things that would be… w-a-y more fun.“ He has a whole closet full of them, in fact. He just hopes Wilhelm will take the bait.

DARE and god I hope it's something good and embarrassing

steakandrobots-blog:

27. Eat a cup of salt.

Wilhelm looked down at the cup of salt. and then back up to Jack with a bored look. Without breaking eye contact he picked up a spoon and scooped up the tiny grains of future pain and lifted it towards his mouth. He stopped short, looking at back at the poor,  abandoned, lemon. Wait. Why should he go through with it when Jack already pussed out?

“Give me one good reason. I already know I win.” 

Jack gives him an exasperated look and throws up his hands.
     “Friggin’—- okay!! Y’know what? How ‘bout I get the stupid lemon and you bring your stupid salt and I’ll order us up some Tequila blanco and we’ll make this a real party, huh?“ 

The last time he drank Tequila hadn’t ended so well, but hell, he’s already embarrassed himself enough with these stupid dares– why stop now?

'Slurred words.'

Jack purses his lips, pressing them to his almost-empty glass.
     “Great beard. Uhh–” He squeezes one eye shut, trying to think. “I like him. he doesn’t ask questions, and he gets the job done.“

     “Also his– robot bits are fuckin’ cool.” He covers his face. “Not like– god, that– that sounded wrong--, you all know what I meant!! Shutthehellup.“

"Never again."

Jack grunts in agreement, head laying heavy on the table as he nurses one hell of a hangover. He’s ordered everyone else out of the lunchroom where they’d woken up from their drunken stupor, and it’s now blissfully quiet other than the low hum of various Hyperion machinery– he’s more than grateful for the silence. 

    “Technically– this is all your fault.”
He cradles his head–(and where the hell had his pants gone, anyway?)–, whining long and low-pitched in his throat. He doesn’t get up from his slumped position; he doesn’t think he could even if he tried.

     “If it wasn’t for you and your stupid lemons, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” His tone is full of bitterness as he swings a leg under the table in an effort to kick the enforcer sitting across from him. He gives up as soon as he realizes what a waste of energy it is. The other man’s already in just as a sorry state as he is, anyway.

Jack fights back another wave of nausea and rubs at his temples in an attempt to make the pain just go away already. Fuckin’ Tequila!! Never again, indeed.