You look in the mirror and there’s no denying it, you’re getting older. Hair’s going grey, the laugh lines are becoming deeper; you just look tired. Dave says he doesn’t notice, doesn’t care, but how could he not? Your skin hangs on your body like an ill-fitting suit, your muscle refuses to hold the same tone and you have to work harder and harder to keep up with your brother turned lover. You’re holding him back.
Things filed under the category of because I fucking can: Karkat/Rose.
Because: They are both veterans in the field of verbal dispute, and both absolutely relish in essentially rambling the ears off people on particular subjects of their own choosing. Turn that energy upon each other, and you’ve got a relationship that is wrought with the ultimate goddamn tier of teasing in the form of constantly one-upping the other, and conversations hilariously rife with Freudian slips. (Because Karkat is like the patron saint of the whole concept, and you can bet Rose will catch and pounce on every single one he makes.)
And it’s entertaining as all bleeding HELL, because Karkat has a terrible penchant for being relentless and Lalondes don’t back down for shit, only grabs what he dishes and pitches it right back at him twofold. Together, they are just an unstoppable maelstrom of perpetual bickering and endless. Fucking. Snark.
They have restrained arguments about the fact that no, you’re romancing me wrong, check your fucking standards, and Karkat only knows how to kiss from chick flicks and Rose from wizard fiction and it’s all a sloppy mess in the end.
Also, Karkat would look hilarious in a troll cozy.