[... Thank you, Dave, for that beautiful illustration of literally everything Karkat just said. What the fuck.
He huffs but doesn't bother contradicting him, both because it would only prompt another logorrheic tsunami and because the hands on his scalp are making a convincing case against doing practically anything. They're also spreading chicken grease fucking everywhere, but that's a sacrifice he's just going to have to live with. Maybe he should steal one of Dave's pillows before his shower and rub his head all over it. That would fucking show him.
Petty revenge fantasies do nothing to distract him from what Dave says next, unfortunately, and Karkat spends a breathless second or two wondering if he can get away with pretending he hadn't heard it before the realization of how much that would probably hurt Dave make him dismiss it. Oh, joy, even more guilt! Fuck, why is he so... ugh.
He opens his eyes again, steals a glance at Dave's face, then looks away. This is stupid. He's being stupid. But—]
It's nothing new. I'm just—[a complete fuckup]—just, you know, fucking awful at being a moirail, can't even keep my own shit out of yours, it's a fucking fecal orgy up in here. I'll stop, okay? I just—I, I don't want you to get t-tired of me, so I'll stop. I'm sorry.
[He's either smothering Dave or getting too caught up in his own self-hating bullshit to even think about taking care of Dave or he's completely fucking misunderstanding human relationships, moirallegiance, or Dave in particular, and who the fuck wants a moirail like that? He's tired of himself.]
no subject
He huffs but doesn't bother contradicting him, both because it would only prompt another logorrheic tsunami and because the hands on his scalp are making a convincing case against doing practically anything. They're also spreading chicken grease fucking everywhere, but that's a sacrifice he's just going to have to live with. Maybe he should steal one of Dave's pillows before his shower and rub his head all over it. That would fucking show him.
Petty revenge fantasies do nothing to distract him from what Dave says next, unfortunately, and Karkat spends a breathless second or two wondering if he can get away with pretending he hadn't heard it before the realization of how much that would probably hurt Dave make him dismiss it. Oh, joy, even more guilt! Fuck, why is he so... ugh.
He opens his eyes again, steals a glance at Dave's face, then looks away. This is stupid. He's being stupid. But—]
It's nothing new. I'm just—[a complete fuckup]—just, you know, fucking awful at being a moirail, can't even keep my own shit out of yours, it's a fucking fecal orgy up in here. I'll stop, okay? I just—I, I don't want you to get t-tired of me, so I'll stop. I'm sorry.
[He's either smothering Dave or getting too caught up in his own self-hating bullshit to even think about taking care of Dave or he's completely fucking misunderstanding human relationships, moirallegiance, or Dave in particular, and who the fuck wants a moirail like that? He's tired of himself.]
I'll stop.