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paradis2015-11-19 11:05 am
hypertoxic) wrote in paradis2015-11-19 11:05 am
BIRFDEE FIC #1 (I DON'T REMEMBER HOW TO WRITE DAVE)
"Dave, why are we watching this garbage?"
"Whoa, what, watch what you're calling garbage, for one, this is a masterwork, and for another, this is troll garbage, isn't that, like, racist? Self-racist or something?"
"How can I be racist against myself, numbnook? Stop talking before you hurt yourself."
"Of course you can be racist against yourself, isn't that just internalized prejudice? Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that this is inspired television and you wouldn't know good taste if it bit you on the weird troll snout."
"My snout isn't weird! Now who's the racist, racist?"
They were curled up together on the couch in John's apartment, because for some reason of course they were in John's apartment. Vriska hadn't felt like bothering Ramona and Souji had company, so they'd commandeered John's couch for cartoon time. John had let them, because John was the greatest friend ever, and John was able to go hang out with Karkat somewhere else anyway, a fact about which Dave and Vriska aggressively did not care slash aggressively found hilarious because they could throw that stupid wiener in the ocean whenever they wanted. In fact, that last part was even better because John would probably help them do it. John was good people.
They were watching Troll Adolescent Mutated Mercenary Amphibians and curled up under a blanket. One shared blanket, but not too close together. They were at least one couch cushion apart. Some experiences can't be overcome, like having the girl you're crushing on be almost poisoned to death by a 8r8k spider or having some knightly noble asshole save your life via a coin toss the two of you didn't realize you shared in common. But they were friends, and this was fine.
Until Vriska reached over and pulled on Dave's hair.
He squawked, his sunglasses actually knocked a little out of place until a too-casual motion of his hand righted them as he fixed his hair.
"What was that for!"
"Being a racist."
"Fuck you, you started it!"
"What the hell are you talking about, you brought it up!"
"You're making this weird, Vriska."
"You're the one that's weird, weirdo!"
Dave reached over and tugged her hair, making her screech.
Soon, Troll Adolescent Whatevers were swiftly forgotten in favor of a good old fashioned tussle. Dave had speed, but Vriska had sheer blue-blooded strength, and the two of them were yelping, hands scrabbling at each other's scalps and legs akimbo as they tries to find purchase, until they both flailed their ungainly way off the couch.
Falling painfully onto the floor was at least enough to stop them.
"Dave, your hand is tangled in my hair."
"Ow, fuck, I know, it's like a rat's nest made of bullshit and spider webs."
"Hey, fuck you! My hair is great, I wash it with Ramona's shampoo."
"Huh. I thought it smelled a little skater punk."
"You smelled my hair?"
"It was kind of hard not to getting this up close and personal!"
"Yeah, well, your hair smells like human boy."
"Thanks."
With some work, they managed to extricate his hand from her endless coils, which were now very tangled. Without having to be asked, Dave got up, and returned silently a few moments later with John's hairbrush. Vriska sullenly set about brushing the knots out of her long knotted up cascade of hair, and for a long space of time, they returned to watching their dumb cartoon. They were sitting much closer now by accident, shoulder to shoulder on the floor with the blanket pooled in a twisted up mess about them.
As Vriska finished soothing away the last of the knots, her expression much clearer and her heart much calmer, she snuck a sideways glance at Dave's profile. With his shades firmly back in place, she couldn't tell he was doing the same.
"Hey, Dave?"
"Yeah?"
"Fuck you."
"Yeah."
He bumped her shoulder with his, and she smiled.
"Whoa, what, watch what you're calling garbage, for one, this is a masterwork, and for another, this is troll garbage, isn't that, like, racist? Self-racist or something?"
"How can I be racist against myself, numbnook? Stop talking before you hurt yourself."
"Of course you can be racist against yourself, isn't that just internalized prejudice? Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that this is inspired television and you wouldn't know good taste if it bit you on the weird troll snout."
"My snout isn't weird! Now who's the racist, racist?"
They were curled up together on the couch in John's apartment, because for some reason of course they were in John's apartment. Vriska hadn't felt like bothering Ramona and Souji had company, so they'd commandeered John's couch for cartoon time. John had let them, because John was the greatest friend ever, and John was able to go hang out with Karkat somewhere else anyway, a fact about which Dave and Vriska aggressively did not care slash aggressively found hilarious because they could throw that stupid wiener in the ocean whenever they wanted. In fact, that last part was even better because John would probably help them do it. John was good people.
They were watching Troll Adolescent Mutated Mercenary Amphibians and curled up under a blanket. One shared blanket, but not too close together. They were at least one couch cushion apart. Some experiences can't be overcome, like having the girl you're crushing on be almost poisoned to death by a 8r8k spider or having some knightly noble asshole save your life via a coin toss the two of you didn't realize you shared in common. But they were friends, and this was fine.
Until Vriska reached over and pulled on Dave's hair.
He squawked, his sunglasses actually knocked a little out of place until a too-casual motion of his hand righted them as he fixed his hair.
"What was that for!"
"Being a racist."
"Fuck you, you started it!"
"What the hell are you talking about, you brought it up!"
"You're making this weird, Vriska."
"You're the one that's weird, weirdo!"
Dave reached over and tugged her hair, making her screech.
Soon, Troll Adolescent Whatevers were swiftly forgotten in favor of a good old fashioned tussle. Dave had speed, but Vriska had sheer blue-blooded strength, and the two of them were yelping, hands scrabbling at each other's scalps and legs akimbo as they tries to find purchase, until they both flailed their ungainly way off the couch.
Falling painfully onto the floor was at least enough to stop them.
"Dave, your hand is tangled in my hair."
"Ow, fuck, I know, it's like a rat's nest made of bullshit and spider webs."
"Hey, fuck you! My hair is great, I wash it with Ramona's shampoo."
"Huh. I thought it smelled a little skater punk."
"You smelled my hair?"
"It was kind of hard not to getting this up close and personal!"
"Yeah, well, your hair smells like human boy."
"Thanks."
With some work, they managed to extricate his hand from her endless coils, which were now very tangled. Without having to be asked, Dave got up, and returned silently a few moments later with John's hairbrush. Vriska sullenly set about brushing the knots out of her long knotted up cascade of hair, and for a long space of time, they returned to watching their dumb cartoon. They were sitting much closer now by accident, shoulder to shoulder on the floor with the blanket pooled in a twisted up mess about them.
As Vriska finished soothing away the last of the knots, her expression much clearer and her heart much calmer, she snuck a sideways glance at Dave's profile. With his shades firmly back in place, she couldn't tell he was doing the same.
"Hey, Dave?"
"Yeah?"
"Fuck you."
"Yeah."
He bumped her shoulder with his, and she smiled.
no subject
LOOK AT ALL THIS FRIENDSHIP TAKING PLACE
Thank you Emblepip I love you : DDD
no subject
HAPPYYYYY BITHDAYYYYYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYYYYYYYYYYY
ill try to write you a xion and davesprite thing
i don't know if i can write davesprite shmoop he was a cutiepie
BUT I CAN TRY
headbutts affectionately