Shut your fucking mouth, Dave, I never said you were irresistible!
[Not using that word, anyway, and what the fuck are these thumbs on his face, what is Dave doing?! Karkat sputters and unwinds his arms from his moirail so he can seize the edge of the blanket and at least try to yank it over his stupid smug head. This irredeemable grubfucker, why had he been so attracted to him again?]
You want a quadrant lecture? I'll give you a fucking quadrant lecture! For one, we usually say palemate, but if you want to be a wiggler about it, fine, "palepal" works.
[The ~*scornfully pantomimed*~ enclosure talons are audible, even if he does eventually give up his efforts to drown Dave in fluffy red fabric in record time and thus has his hands free to do it if he wished. He just doesn't. Dick.]
Second, it's not an insult to say you pity someone, you insipid douche. Even in moirallegiance, where the goal is to pacify each other, you wouldn't feel that attraction if the person's strengths weren't more important to you than how fucking terrible they are at handling their shit. So when I say I'm pale for you, what I really mean is—
[Oh. Oh fuck, no, how did he make it worse, he's going to need to actually finish this thought, isn't he? Or just BS it somehow?? But lying to his moirail about this, even if they're an epic jackoff like Dave fucking Strider is just—RRGH.
Karkat's face is on fire by now, but he grits out the rest anyway, his hands now drifting up to Dave's and. Okay, he's not sure he wants to move them. Fuck.]
What I mean is that you're too fucking important to me for me to just—just stand by and let you hurt yourself, all right? It means I'm willing to stick my neck out for you because guess what, unstable trolls without moirails or morails who don't do their fucking jobs get culled. Sometimes both do! And if your moirail is really, really unstable, there's always a chance you'll be the first one to—that they'll—
[Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, he hadn't meant to—shit, breathe, this really isn't the time, how can he pull this back? Think about Dave, not—the other one.
He presses Dave's hands against his skin and closes his eyes. God, he's so fucking pathetic, why can't he let that go?]
no subject
Shut your fucking mouth, Dave, I never said you were irresistible!
[Not using that word, anyway, and what the fuck are these thumbs on his face, what is Dave doing?! Karkat sputters and unwinds his arms from his moirail so he can seize the edge of the blanket and at least try to yank it over his stupid smug head. This irredeemable grubfucker, why had he been so attracted to him again?]
You want a quadrant lecture? I'll give you a fucking quadrant lecture! For one, we usually say palemate, but if you want to be a wiggler about it, fine, "palepal" works.
[The ~*scornfully pantomimed*~ enclosure talons are audible, even if he does eventually give up his efforts to drown Dave in fluffy red fabric in record time and thus has his hands free to do it if he wished. He just doesn't. Dick.]
Second, it's not an insult to say you pity someone, you insipid douche. Even in moirallegiance, where the goal is to pacify each other, you wouldn't feel that attraction if the person's strengths weren't more important to you than how fucking terrible they are at handling their shit. So when I say I'm pale for you, what I really mean is—
[Oh. Oh fuck, no, how did he make it worse, he's going to need to actually finish this thought, isn't he? Or just BS it somehow?? But lying to his moirail about this, even if they're an epic jackoff like Dave fucking Strider is just—RRGH.
Karkat's face is on fire by now, but he grits out the rest anyway, his hands now drifting up to Dave's and. Okay, he's not sure he wants to move them. Fuck.]
What I mean is that you're too fucking important to me for me to just—just stand by and let you hurt yourself, all right? It means I'm willing to stick my neck out for you because guess what, unstable trolls without moirails or morails who don't do their fucking jobs get culled. Sometimes both do! And if your moirail is really, really unstable, there's always a chance you'll be the first one to—that they'll—
[Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, he hadn't meant to—shit, breathe, this really isn't the time, how can he pull this back? Think about Dave, not—the other one.
He presses Dave's hands against his skin and closes his eyes. God, he's so fucking pathetic, why can't he let that go?]
... It's not an insult.