So here I go, starting new fics while I SHOULD be finishing all the ones I currently have going instead.

But when inspiration hits, you just gotta roll with it, you feel me?

So, I had this idea, and I just wanted to get it down. While writing, I realized that some readers will probably kill me for not finishing up TLaDF, but I don't really care. This ship must sail

I'm rambling. Why would ANYONE in the right state of mind let me ramble?

Why?

Ok, here is the disclaimer: If I owned this seriee, certain ships would be sailing very well right now, there would be a few less reoccurring deaths (we get it, John is terrible at staying alive), and, oh, I dunno... More puppies. (that was basically a "Hussie I hate you but I love you but I hate you" thing)


Karkat Vantas flopped down face-first into the mounds of purple sheets, splayed out.

"Jesus you could be fucking floating for the amount of stuff you got piled on top of your bed! How do you even sleep?"

"Well bro, floating calms you the motherfuck right down, makes you all tingly-like. Real easy to sleep all nestled in a motherfucking cloud."

Gamzee lazily turned his head to look at his friend laying besides him, grin spreading wider (that was possible?) across his painted face.

"You're high, aren't you," Karkat didn't even lift his head out of the blankets to ask.

"Higher than a motherfucking wing-beast, bro."

"No words for you. No fucking words."

"You want a wicked elixir?" Gamzee asked, sliding off his bed.

"I don't trust the stuff in your fridge. Your Faygo probably has more drug content than a fucking sleeping pill."

"Whatever floats your goat bro," Gamzee hummed happily, sauntering off to retrieve a can of soda.

"It's boat..." Karkat grumbled to nobody, finally lifting his face for air.

The room was, despite what people would think from his friend's attitude, tidy. Not clean necessarily, but tidy. Odd posters of clowns or whatever were tacked to the walls, covering over the unsettling wallpaper (black with "honk" written in purple over and over and over again. Seriously, where did Gamzee get his hands on that stuff?). The messiest thing in the room was the unmade bed and the pile of clown horns in the corner.

Karkat couldn't complain. Compared to his room this looked spotless.

"The colors are speaking to me man," Gamzee stated, voice mystified and eyes wide in wonderment as he rentered the room.

"And what do the colors say?" Karkat asked dully, humoring his stoned friend.

"Many things, Karbro. Colors hold all the mysteries. All of them. They know all. The get inside your mitherfucking think-pan. They know your thoughts. Miraculous."

Karkat nodded, disinterested. Gamzee always had a thing for colors, especially when he got high. So, virtually all the time.

"Sound interesting."

Karkat glanced over at his slouching friend. Really, he wished Gamzee took better care of himself. Sure, his parents don't give a rat's ass about him, but he didn't have to turn to drugs. He was going to ruin his life, AND his good looks.

Karkat didn't like to think about that, but he knew what drugs did; you didn't live in a city like New York and not see those awful effects on people.

And Gamzee really was good looking, long legs and silky (if not crazy) hair. If only he'd eat a little more; he was all skin and bones. Sometimes, Karkat wondered if that was the drugs or Gamzee's lack of caring.

Which made him worry. Maybe his friend would get killed over these drugs, simply because it didn't matter to him if he lived or died. Karkat really cared for him; they were best friends. If Gamzee were to die...

"Karbro your mind-colors went all gloomy."

"Oh really?"

"Yah. Make them motherfucking happy again, they ain't right all doomy."

"Ok. I'll remember that."

Gamzee stuck his face in Karkat's, peering at him from under his curly bangs.

"You think some pretty motherfucking dirty thoughts sometimes bro."

"What?" Karkat blanched, caught off guard.

"Mm-hmm. Who are they all up and about, I wonder?" Gamzee mused, falling onto the bed on his back, looking at Karkat upside-down. "You're on the motherfucking ceiling! How'd you all up and do that?"

Karkat sighed and lay his head back down. Gamzee was a pain in the ass when he was doped up this much.


"Kaaaaaaaarkat."

"What the fuck?!"

Karkat jumped awake, smashing his skull into Gamzee's. "DAMMIT WHY WAS YOUR FACE SO CLOSE TO MINE ANYWAYS?!"

"You fell asleep bro."

"Fuck you."

"I thought you were dead."

"Right."

"Like Snow White!"

"Snow White."

"Yeah! See Karbro, I got all motherfucking scared that you had all up and eaten a motherfucking poison apple and now I had to motherfucking kiss you to save you."

Karkat stared at his grinning friend.

"Kiss me?"

"Yuuuup."

"Gamzee, that's just... Did you think to ask if I would fucking like that?!" Karkat nearly shouted, panicked. What if Gamzee HAD kissed him?

"I thought you were motherfucking dead," he answered, shrugging. That grin was still plastered across his face.

"Whatever," Karkat grumbled, rolling onto his side so as to put his back to his friend. He didn't want to think about that anymore.

"If I had asked you if I could, what would you've all up and said?"

Karkat stiffened.

"I don't want to think about this anymore Gamzee. Shut the fuck up before I kill you."

"Ok bro," Gamzee rolled onto his side, back to Karkat's.

The two sat there for a long time in a strained silence- strained to Karkat, anyway. Gamzee was just too zoned out to really find ANYTHING strained at the moment. Finally, Karkat just couldn't take it anymore.

"Dude, Snow White? REALLY? Do I look like some girl in a dress singing to fucking birds in the forest to you, dumbass?"

"You got similarities."

Karkat arched an eyebrow "Oh really?"

"You both got the same motherfucking hair color."

"Is that all?"

"You're singing voice isn't half bad."

"When did you- oh never mind. I don't want to know. Those two can't be your reasoning."

"She's pretty," he shrugged.

Karkat sat there, silently, running that sentence over and over in his head. What had Gamzee meant? Was he saying that Karkat was pretty? Was he saying that he was attracted to him, or just stating the facts? Was he too high to think straight? Was Karkat thinking about this too hard?

"Yo Karbro, did the idea of a kiss really motherfucking get you all upset?"

"Wha?"

"You just went all stiff, dead-like just now, and I thought to myself that maybe you didn't all up and feel motherfucking comfortable with that idea."

"Oh," Karkat replied, squirming slightly with nervous energy. He sat up, and Gamzee did the same, watching him closely, eyes shaded by his long lashes. Karkat picked at his fingers, looking anywhere but at his best friend.

"Karbro, have you ever all up and been kissed before?"

Karkat mumble something, which Gamzee had to lean in to hear.

"No? Ok, I feel you bro. You don't want me to be your first kiss. That's cool."

"No!" Karkat sputtered, flustered. "It's just that we're friends. Fucking friends, Gamzee. It would be... Weird to kiss you. Plus, we're both guys."

Gamzee grinned and clapped a hand to Karkat's shoulder.

"Let's go get some pizza."

Karkat shook his head in disbelief as he followed his friend out of his apartment and down the road to the pizza parlor. That Gamzee could just shrug off an awkward conversation like that and go to EAT astounded him.

Of course, being completely wasted probably helped a lot.


I know what you're thinking: "Damn PL, this was long!"

My response? "I KNOW I KNOW IT IS LONGER THAT 463 WORDS OMG IT IS OVER 1,000 WITHOUT THE SINFULLY LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE!"

... Ok.

I'm excited right now. Hehehe...

Ok, any ideas? I'd LOVE to hear them. Right now I'm sorta... Well, I have a slight destination in mind, but unless you want me to "accidentally" turn this into a blood-and-hellfire fic you better give me some ideas, and quick.

Thanks! /(^U^)\