Current Status: Semi-Active, Slow

Maddest of the Mad, Baddest of the Bad,
Killer of Kings, Destroyer of Worlds.
But hell, you can just call me Gig
[Independent 'Post-Game' Gig
(Soul Nomad™) RP Blog]
[Tracking: showmethehotpods]
Anonymous sent:

Is this when the hatesex happens...?

THERE’S NOT GOING TO /BE/ ANY HATESEX~!!! 

laughs gig the fuck are you doing

lamanodestra:

Alright, okay, Gokudera could admit when he deserved a punch in the face, and maybe, maybe the mocking was going a little far. He saw the punch coming but couldn’t do anything to dodge it so instead he just braced for the pain, though luckily he brought his hands up and managed, by pure luck, to catch the brunt of the kick meant for his torso.

The only reason he managed to stay on his feet was because his hands immediately shot out, one balling in Gig’s shirt while the other hauled back and flew into Gig’s cheek—not quite as good as his mouth, but he was still reeling from the god’s blow, so he’d take what he could get.

"Fucking try me, asshole, I’d love to watch you eat your words,” he spat, pulling his fist back for punch number two.

The fact that Gig was able to successfully punch anyone these days, what with mortals being far more stronger and fucking batshit insane than he remembered, was extremely satisfying, and the reaper couldn’t stop a satisfied, smug smirk flickering over his face, before quickly being replaced by a scowl as the other dared to fucking attack him back.

"Heh, try you,is it~?” The reaper laughed with the slightest touch of hysteria, quickly snapping out his wings; leaping up onto the others shoulders, he swiftly secured a position of his legs tightly wrapped around the others neck, jerking the bomber’s head to the side to hiss, “bad choice of wording right now, wouldn’tcha think~”  

(Source: showmethehotpods)

demon-princess-ashura sent:

[Sits down about an arm's or so distance away from the Reaper — Not for his comfort, but her own.. Sort of. She's not quite sure what she's feeling right now, other than “I don't think I want to be by myself.” ]

"Having another rough night?" Honestly, by now, Gig’s pretty much used to seeing her presence around here lately. He’s not even bothered by it, or bothering to question it anymore. 

"…D’you wanna talk about it?" 

lamanodestra:

A grin, because he knows by now when he has the god where he wants him. “I don’t have to stalk you to see how you fucking beg for his dick whenever he’s around, Giggle. I’d have to be fucking blind to miss that, Jesus. Your reactions are largely the same—Squalo, notice me! Ooh, look, over here, here I am! Please let me suck your dick, please!”

He grits his teeth, though, when that post is mentioned, because that post will likely be the death of him. Fucking Takeshi. “We don’t talk about that. He’s full of shit and clearly deluded if he thinks half of those people he tagged have any fucking chance with me.”

If it had been a better day, the God might have just laughed at the fucking pathetic excuse of mocking the mortal was trying to pull, brush it off even. Sadly, it wasn’t a better day - and Gig responded to the latest round of sass by pulling back a fist, and launching it straight into the fucker’s nose, and swinging a foot out to catch him in the gut whilst he was at it.

image

Fyi, little tip whilst we’re getting fucking CHUMMY here - God’s don’t suck dick. But they can certainly fucking BREAK them. Want me to try it out on YOURS..?!” 

(Source: showmethehotpods)

When people make ‘Vague Blogging’ posts, or reblog ‘When This Thing Happens’ post and you wonder if it’s meant to be about you.

lamanodestra:

"That doesn’t make one single goddamned bit of sense, especially not when the moment he so much as looks at you you’re practically pissing yourself with excitement.”

Don’t reply to the taunt, don’t reply to the taunt— “And I don’t get all red-faced or any of that bullshit whenever anyone’s around, but especially not when m—that fucking idiot is here!”

"Tch, like you would even know what I look like?! What, do you just fucking stalk me and take down notes on how the hell I react to every single little thing that bastard does?!” Twitchy grin of stay on the course, stay on the fucking course.

"That’s funny, because I could have sworn you were getting all kinds of flustered not that long ago, when that baseball nut of yours was around talking about who you get hot and heavy for.” 

(Source: showmethehotpods)

lamanodestra:

Your shark’s games, I see how it is. Well, at least you can admit that much to yourself. However, I’d hardly say I follow him around—everywhere I turn that asshole is there, I don’t see how I can be faulted for that.”

Ah, yes, denial at its finest. But from the looks of it, Gokudera has successfully turned the argument around, and really, isn’t that what matters?

"What can I say; I’m possessive. Must be a reaper thing. I never said I wasn’t involved - only that I’m not half as fucking obvious as you make it sound.…Did that make sense? Yeah, sure it did. Fucking reaper logic, it always made sense.

"But if I have to see you getting all red faced and virginy whenever that smiling dork of yours is around, I may just have to consider the possibility of choking on my own vomit."  

(Source: showmethehotpods)

variaskillingangel sent:

Stares at the god. Give her acknowledgement and praise u fucker

Pats on the head. A job well done. We will destroy humanity, one Tsunudera at a time. 

lamanodestra:

Gokudera grits his teeth—it’s harder to get under Gig’s skin tonight, and easier to get under his own. “Right, little godlings just wear maid uniforms and prance around at the beck and call of sharks, right? Huge difference—my bad.”

… He really hopes Squalo doesn’t hear about this. He enjoys his head and his various other extremities right where they are, thank-you-very-much.

Okay, but no, you’re really pushing your luck. Look at that eyebrow twitching action going. S’gotta be a world record breaker in a face most looking like it might have a stroke.

"Pardon if I do get caught up in my shark’s little games. I fail to see how that’s any more tragic, than following your butt-boy around like a dog in heat.

(Source: showmethehotpods)