Summary:
"WHERE IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK ARE ALL MY PANTS."
Notes:
I've had this on a google doc since April of 2017 for some reason. maybe i'll actually develop it into something. probs not tho.
Work Text:
"WHERE IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK ARE ALL MY PANTS."
Karkat's screeching could be heard even through the dense material of Dave's headphones and the musical barrier they created.
"Don't ask me dude I ain't no petty clothes thief running around this god forsaken meteor gathering up people's pants and shit for some kind of satanic ritual in which I must provide a thousand pairs of pants that have been pulled up snug against their chests and full of gross troll bacteria."
Dave, who had previously not bothered to raise his head from his turntables, now looked in the direction of the crabby troll who stood in a slightly crouched position bearing a livid and accusing frown. Denouncing the implication that all his pants were missing, was a light grey pair of jeans which could clearly be seen hugging the bottom half of the hot headed troll's chest. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, Dave finally voiced his suspicions "Are those my jeans?"
"WHAT IF THEY ARE?"
"Dude chill, you can totally wear my jeans. I really don't care if you want to borrow my clothes."
"Besides these pyjamas are life, never once taken them off." Karkat scrunched his nose up in disgust. He didn't have much room to judge having only changed about once a week, but even he found that a bit on the repulsive side.
"Neither have I. I suppose godly clothing comes with godly benefits. They require no cleaning and do not stain or smell." Now he had no room to judge and was even more envious of the humans' status as God Tiers.
Sweet almighty taintchafing fuck
