==>Gamzee: Make breakfast for a disgruntled Karkat.
You should expect to be held back, in all honesty, but it manages to take you by surprise anyway; or at least enough that you don’t manage to struggle against his grip in time to escape it. You begrudgingly comply, turning to face him with a frown on your face.
“No it damn well can’t. Do you have any fucking idea how fast that jackass works? He’ll beat me to the punch again if I wait,” you whine.
He tries to reason with you, but you’ve already dug your heels in. The only way you’re giving in is by force, and even then you’ll fight tooth and nail every step of the way; it’s just your nature.
“I’m not even sick, dumbass. I feel fine,” you grumble. “It’s just a stupid fever, it’s probably nothing.” This is, of course, a complete and total lie. You’ve been feeling under the weather for a few days, but like fuck are you telling him that and giving him more of a reason to fuss.
At the mention of being carried, you cross your arms and glare at him (though the effect is somewhat ruined by your flushed cheeks and puffy eyes.)
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
He would, too, and you know it. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d hauled your ass to bed when you refused to go yourself. Many a multi-day gaming marathon had been abruptly called to an end by Gamzee plucking you out of your chair, dumping you on the mattress, and holding you there until you finally passed out.
He was always doing things like that- looking after you when you refused to do so for yourself, forcefully if need be. In a lot of ways, you did the same for him. Gamzee had a lot of friends, but hardly any of them were close enough to him for you to even recognize their faces, let alone know them by name. There was that one handicapped kid with the stupid mohawk that Gam brought up the apartment from time to time, but other than him and Gamzee’s bandmates, not a single face comes to mind.
The two of you were one of the few constants in each other’s lives. Gamzee will always be there to send you to bed, make you shitty canned soup, and bring you Gatorade when you’re sick (always the wrong flavor, but it’s the thought that counts.) You’ll always be there for him to come home to. A constant presence in a forever changing lineup of “friends” and hookups and would-be lovers.
Someone to hold on to at night.
Of course none of that means you’re any less of a stubborn little shit, determined to maintain your horrendously unhealthy habits. Physical health be damned, you have Important Things to do on the internet and you aren’t planning on letting a slight fever and a pushy, if well-meaning roommate get in the way of that.
If this isn’t the miniature stare down of the century you don’t know what is. Your eyes drift over his face, searching, trying to delve past that fucking invisible barrier of ‘fuck no’ to get him to listen. Your fingers gently squeeze his wrist. Sometimes he’s argumentative for the sake of pertaining to his personality. You wonder if that ever hurts him. Being stubborn can cause regrets anyway. You agree here with your internal monologue, sinking into the pregnant pause between you both. Your gaze settles onto his lips that are twisted into a pout, the corner of your mouth quirks You shake the thought. You’re not even high and you’re over thinking shit. “Don’t think I haven’t been noticing you stealing all the covers and sleeping in sweats, man..” It may be terribly adorable to you to wake up and see Karkat cocooned inside the mound of thin summer blankets currently on the bed, normal even…But blankets and sweatpants and a sweatshirt? Obviously something has been up, that something that was peaking with a fever of about one hundred and two degrees. In an instant you’re halfway kneeling on the sofa, half standing on the floor. Your breath stirs the bit of scruffy hair at the base of his neck. The duvet you had pulled over you both lays discarded over one of the arms of the couch, not for long though. You let him out of your grasp, stroking a hand down his side before draping the downy quilt over his shoulders like a child. He smells like fabric softener. You only know because for a second you let your nose press into the top of his head, into his thick hair. His fever is like putting your hand inside an open oven, shit. Your chin rests here for a moment before you speak. “Fine, fine…Alright go ahead then. Let me at least make you some tea while you sit and do fucking whatever it is that is so important with your internet boyfriend.” Of course you’re only loading a trap here…
lecherously. Karkat has a perfect mouth. His lower lip juts slightly forward, his top lip curls delicately into it’s natural cupid’s bow shape. His teeth are blunt and square.
If this isn’t the miniature stare down of the century you don’t know what is. Your eyes drift over his face, searching, trying to delve past that fucking invisible barrier of ‘fuck no’ to get him to listen. Your fingers gently squeeze his wrist. Sometimes he’s argumentative for the sake of pertaining to his personality. You wonder if that ever hurts him.
Being stubborn can cause regrets anyway. You agree here with your internal monologue, sinking into the pregnant pause between you both. Your gaze settles onto his lips that are twisted into a pout, the corner of your mouth quirks
You shake the thought. You’re not even high and you’re over thinking shit.
“Don’t think I haven’t been noticing you stealing all the covers and sleeping in sweats, man..”
It may be terribly adorable to you to wake up and see Karkat cocooned inside the mound of thin summer blankets currently on the bed, normal even…But blankets and sweatpants and a sweatshirt? Obviously something has been up, that something that was peaking with a fever of about one hundred and two degrees.
In an instant you’re halfway kneeling on the sofa, half standing on the floor. Your breath stirs the bit of scruffy hair at the base of his neck. The duvet you had pulled over you both lays discarded over one of the arms of the couch, not for long though. You let him out of your grasp, stroking a hand down his side before draping the downy quilt over his shoulders like a child.
He smells like fabric softener. You only know because for a second you let your nose press into the top of his head, into his thick hair. His fever is like putting your hand inside an open oven, shit. Your chin rests here for a moment before you speak.
“Fine, fine…Alright go ahead then. Let me at least make you some tea while you sit and do fucking whatever it is that is so important with your internet boyfriend.”
Of course you’re only loading a trap here…
Gamzee: Have and old friend over for drinks and dinner.
There’s nothing that you can think of that coincides so deeply with the feeling of home more than a homecooked meal. It’s how you nest, and how you can make your little dingy, lemon of an apartment feel more like yours than a concrete box. You cope through food, music, and weed. As a creature of habit you cope often. You put some music on, you tie a beat up apron around your waist and you let go. You get your motherfucking cook on because you are damn good at that shit and the residue of your labors is perfect 87.4% of the time.
Tonight it’s baked tilapia with lemon and capers from an online recipe you searched on your phone; Smears of ingredients on the screen of your phone left as greasy evidence to show just how thorough you decided to be. You wouldn’t say this is fancy. However, you would say this is much fancier than when you’re cooking for just yourself.
How else are you supposed to impress a girl?
It’s not even like that.
The dynamic of Terezi Pyrope’s and your relationship is complicated, however in no way romatically. You had been texting back and forth all week to the dismay of Karkat. She wanted to see you both so you invited her over for dinner between friends. Just friends, duh. As much as you’d like to push her up against a door or even over the kitchen counter you are working on, you are just bros. As much as you’d enjoy seeing her glasses slide down the brim of her nose when— but you’re nothing but bro and lady bro with common interests including
tormenting Karkat, animals and…stuff.
Plus, that counter isn’t exactly clean enough to be face down on.
With the fish properly prepped and in the oven you steam some vegetables. Fresh out of one of those grab-bag mixes near the pre-made salsa and chopped peppers in the grocery store. It’s going to be a simple meal. A clean meal. You’ll plate it artfully and accept compliments over this bullshit. The only thing not quite class about your dinner will be the beverages. While you know chardonnay goes nicely with white fish you don’t motherfuckin’ have a single wine glass to put that wicked shit in. You settle on a sixpack of Blue Moon because you can’t really go wrong with that and typically ladies dig it with a slice of orange.
The apartment smells pretty damn wonderful. You wash your hands and fill a bowl of water for Senator Lemonsnout before capping a beer.
((Gamzee-mun: make an announcement! ))
((Hi everyone, errrrm so replies are going to be coming in even slower than normal, I just started a new job and am getting my hours sorted out.
/Casually works at a Halloween store!!
Thank you all so much for following. I hope you’re all having as fun reading as I am writing (mediocrely.) !! :o) ))
@Capricornspacecadet :3 ~?
“O-oh.” All of the sudden you’re more than aware of the awkward situation you’ve put yourself in and you flush nervously as the boy waves at you. Your eyes dart away for a second but then you decide this is just a purrfect opportunity presenting itself! Mustering up your courage, you excuse yourself from the shelter for just a ‘few minutes longerrr’ (much to the disapproval of your co-worker) and stride into the heat of the day to meet the boy face to face. “Hi! Uhm we haven’t met before, but I’ve seen you around lots before around here or at the cafe…” Oh, was that creepy uhh… Well, too late to back out now! “That is, I’ve been wondering if you or maybe that tired-looking boy you’re always with, would be interested in a adopting a kitten! I know you guys have never stopped by the shelter before, but we just got some really nice new kittens in a-and…”
You were rambling as you often did and just now you realized you had brought up the other boy far too soon to be appropriate. Dumb Nep! This dude was going to think you were some weirdo yourself and then tell the tired boy and he’d never want to adopt a kitten from you and… It seemed that he really couldn’t care less about your rambling. You suddenly notice a slightly familiar smell emanating from the boy and his friendly demeanor makes a little more sense… Oh geez, oh well… You weren’t going to let something like that dissuaded you!
Instead, the social norm of society and how you’re supposed to interact with people when meeting them for the first time suddenly reared its head. Actually, normally, you’re not supposed to force people into meeting you in the first place… You were bad at this normal behavioral thing, still you tried your best. “Anyyyways, my name is Nepeta. May I ask for yours..?”
You were starting to really feel unsure about this encounter you threw yourself into. You kinda didn’t want to actually give the guy time to answer any of your questions now. Maybe this was what Equius meant when he said you often didn’t think much before acting, instead following your initial feelings and thoughts… They just always seemed so good when you first thought them! But here you were standing on the sidewalk, in the heat, talking to (and most likely bothering) a stranger… again. Purrhaps you were more than bad at this heheh…“You know what? You’re actually probably heading somewhere right? Actually, just forget everything about this encounter! Especially the part about me asking about your friend, eek! I’m sorry if I got in your way!”
You actually squeaked when you realized what, or rather who you brought up again as you began to back away towards the shelter. There was a reason you mostly associated yourself with cats and you were fine with that! Completely fine haha! Ha… You would be okay with this and the hole you just presently dug yourself into while this odd stranger watched in 5 minutes. 10 minutes tops if the cats were being particularly fussy when you got back. You were okay with just having to watch the boy you had been admiring from afar. Life was just like that sometimes! Even if sometimes you wished it wasn’t.
You’re staring distantly at her, or rather almost through her and it’s taking way longer than normal for what she’s saying to completely register in your head. She’s got a cute face though. Round, shiny eyes and a button-y ski slope nose. You’re way cool with her still talking to you because more friends are always something you need; It’s impossible to party alone, right? You take a moment to appreciate her mouth before realizing that words are coming out of it, specifically a question for you. She wants to know your name, bro.
"Shit, girl. It’s Gamzee." You feel slightly rude for just letting your brain’s motor idle in the conversation…Time to get into that shit, man.
"Hey, no I’m in no hurry or anything. You’ll probably find this disappointing though, as much as I really do love cats, I’m pretty fuckin’ sure where I live with Kar doesn’t allow them or any kind of little furry bro."
Your pupils flare and you give a shrug. You would love a cat of your own, you had always wanted one since you were little because they are supposed to sleep on the end of your bed with you. Come to think of it, you probably would have turned out a little differently if you had a pet when you were younger. Your parents….Were a little negligent to you emotionally. You were never close to your mother, but you knew that she always loved you dearly. Needless to say that awkward phonecall once a month reminded you of this. …And your father…
You moved out the first chance you had.
"Oh, an’ Karkat is the name of the sleepyhead you mentioned earlier, Hahaha." There’s a very pregnant pause after you speak. Now, if you weren’t motherfuckin’ high as a kite right now you’d think about how utterly strange (and a little creepy) the fact that she knew of Karkat and you in the first place, then again who could forget your face? Kar and you frequently would grab lunch at the cafe she was talking about near the shelter, so it wasn’t anything too odd. You dab the sweat from your neck.
"Can I at least see the kittens?"
So many people started following me!
I guess they recognize awesomeness when they see me! Hehehe!
Soon, I will have a blog far more popular than Karkat’s! >:]
Where is the little buttmunch, anyway? I’m sure he’s on here, he has enough free time to blog like a little idiot.
Anyway, thank you for following me, all you wonderful people! If you want to talk individually, feel free to drop me an ask, or whatever you want! I’m open whenever I’m not busy at class or with homework!
I’M ALREADY FOLLOWING YOU, DUMBASS. ALSO, FUCK YOU, MY BLOG IS SIMPLY THE BEST THERE IS. YOURS LOOKS LIKE IT WAS DESIGNED BY A PSYCHOTIC BLIND CHICK— OH WAIT. :|
KK, can you fuckin’ keep it down??? I’m trying to nap on the couch over here and you screaming at the computer is keeping a motherfucker up.
==>Gamzee: Don’t laugh.
You scream from the loud bang—CHRIST! When did he get here? You had managed to snag some headphones off a shelf after a dreadfully long few minutes of squirming in whichever way possible in your chair just to curl your index finger around the cord and yank them down. You had figured that plugging headphones in would help the mood.
They were..actually pretty pricey headphones, and had been able to block out the sound of the knocking. That is, until he busted through the door. Already jittery from several jumpscares, you let-out the manliest of all manly cries.
You flailed away from the controller and promptly fell out of your wheelchair, your side hitting the floor at an awkward angle. You groaned outwardly and spat your bandanna out of your mouth, it having managed to lodge itself inbetween your teeth as you suddenly decided to test to see if gravity still worked. Delightful.
Your shoulder throbbed, but otherwise, you were unharmed, thankfully. The smell of orange chicken and rice permeated the air and realization smacked you full in the face. You were on the floor looking like a dope infront of the most beautiful man you had ever had the wonderful pleasure of laying your eyes on.
Nervously, you scrambled for your chair, only to know way too late that it had rolled away from you and bumped into the wall on the other side of the goddamn room. You had ended-up reaching for air and grabbing nothing. Looking stupid. Again.
"Oh, um..h-hey, Gamzee.." You began, brushing your currently halfway-styled mohawk back with your hand, "S..sorry about not answering the door. I..decided to start playing, I guess, a-and I had headphones in, hehe."
(( Don’t worry about it! I’m always here incase you need to talk about anything or if you’re stressed at all. And I start school next week and I’m dreading it ghefydusdx ; n ; ))
It should be noted that there wasn’t a lot of light coming from the inside of Tavros’ dorm. Even dark in comparison to the outside hallway light that, after a few minutes of being inside, was a little like looking at the sun when the door opened. Fluorescent and bright. However that wasn’t exactly the terrifying part about your entrance, whilst standing in the doorway your shadow was less human and more /monster/ than anything. With an arm full of lumpy grocery bag and your guitarcase you could have passed as a distant cousin of slenderman for a split second. Oh, and you had clown makeup on.
You had a full sentence curling off your tongue that turned into an sharp inhale of breath, cut off and startled. Gasp. You saw the game controller fly into the air…Right along with your bro. Interesting defense mechanism for someone lacking in most of their lower limbs…
throwing oneself on the floor. Of course it wasn’t really intended to be that way, and it was hard not to all out snort. It looked pretty damn comical, a little gravity defying and well, bruising. A pang of guilt plucked at a heartstring, this shouldn’t be funny. Still you bit back a laugh, dropped your things and the food to the floor in careful dissaray (as not to make a fuckin’ mess, man).
Tavros kind of beamed up at you in a heartbreaking way from down on the floor. You better fix that…
He was light in your hands. It only took you a second to move across the room, scoop him up into your arms bridal style and settle him back into his wheelchair. Of course this situated both of you by the front of the room and you closed the door before seriously addressing your bro. You took a moment to check him over, smoothing his hair back to inspect his face. You fixed his bandana around his neck and captured his wrists one at a time to take a peep at his elbows.
He seemed in solid condition, so you picked up the thrown controller on the floor where he landed and the pair of headphones that were hanging by their cord off the side of his desk, putting them back. Then you moved him, steering him back to where he was originally, before leaning down to talk at his level respectfully.
"Are you hurt, man? Sorry to scare the shit out of you..But you were sort of doin’ the same for me by not gettin’ the door." You gave a chagrined smile, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder…To his dismay and your unknowing the soon-to-be-bruised one.
"How about some food and then we can get down to fuckin’ business with Nightmare House?"
(( Hey Sol…….
also i apologize for the inactivity on this account. i’m back at college, and school and irl socializing is eating up my online time. ))
/Sucks Tav’s face. <__>))
==>Gamzee: Make breakfast for a disgruntled Karkat.
As soon as he places his palm on your forehead, you know the jig is up. You’re not really sure why you thought you’d be able to lay back on top of him without him noticing that you’re burning up (a shiver passes through you, because fuck, you still don’t feel like you’re too hot.) It still catches you somewhat by surprise when he tries to tell you you’ll be turning in early.
“What? Fuck off, Gam, It’s still early and I’ve got way too much shit to do. TA posted on the forums the other day to say he found an exploitable stack overflow error in Typheus, that asshole. He fucking knew I was looking into that. Now I have to find some other browser to fuck with and start all over.”
You can’t win him over with logic- you’ve only had a couple hours of sleep, you’re already yawning, and you may or may not be very slightly ill. The best you can hope for is to bewilder him enough with your techno-babble that he gives in to avoid a headache.
Not that you need his permission of course, strictly speaking. It’s just that over the years, Gamzee seemed to have grown accustomed to having to watch out for your physical well-being, as well as fighting you every step of the way. You’d never taken very good care of yourself, and he’d always been way too nice of a friend to just leave you to it.
Still, though, you are petulant and slightly bratty at the best of times, and well-meant as his intentions may be, you are having none of it. You start to pull away. You’re actually really goddamn comfortable and half of your brain is kicking the other half for even thinking about moving. But the film is three quarters of the way over already, and you have no intention of going to sleep for another four hours at least, the state of your health be damned.
To that end, you fully intend to go grab a Rockstar from your secret stash at the back of the fridge, for more or less the exact opposite of the purpose the Nyquil was meant for. Sometimes you can be a little contrary, just for the sake of it. What else is new.
He wasn’t as stubborn when he was younger, even if by a hair. You grip around one of his slim wrists to gently lead him back to you, not tugging or pulling with force, but trying to get him to look at you. You plead ‘stay' with your eyes, because you will fight him on this. For fuck’s sake he’s sick and you will have none of that. The instinct to mother him is an old one, lest we forget who took him under their wing when they left home.
Suddenly you’re taken way back, kicking it oldschool with a fleeting thought of a memory.
When you met Karkat he was barely scratching the surface of sixteen years old, you felt like the biggest fuckin’ pedophile for being charmed by the runaway’s ‘I don’t need anything, fuck off’ attitude
and how tiny he was. He didn’t talk much, but had the most lively eyes. He was essentially the lost kitten who followed you home. You fed him and he became your pet, your responsibility. He was bonded to you in friendship as soon as you extended an hand with a crumb of food palmed in it; Or in this case a hot chocolate and a raspberry scone. Of course he’d come back after that chance meeting, they always come back when you feed them. You exchanged phone numbers and he called.
He moved in and not much has changed since then. Of course other than both of you aging slightly; You grew into your lankiness, learned to trip over your feet less. He stretched vertically; finding slight, sinewy muscles. Whipcord strung on his small frame, albeit forever childlike because you can still rest your chin on top of his head.
"It can wait."
He’s right about you not giving a fuck to decipher his tech lingo. Again though, taking a break for one night won’t kill him. Plus, getting worked up over some nerd on the internet couldn’t be good for his fever.
"All I’m askin’ is for you to rest for one night. You’re free to do whatever the fuck you want tomorrow, but you have a fever right now and shouldn’t exert yourself too much tonight. Mental or otherwise."
You’re chewing your lip ring while anticipating his submission to your nursing. —By that you of course have the intentions of Nyquil, maybe tea, and an extra blanket despite the heat.
"Do I have to carry you?"