#catch me cradling my blorbos in my hands like ''oh i think they should be a little fucked up''

[palestporn]

Continuing the encouragement: I would very much be interested in reading In Cold Blood on ao3!! I’d be interested in reading pretty much anything you write tbh—you could publish Gamkar’s grocery list and it would still be one of the best things I’ve ever read

Haven't posted about this over here much but STILL WORKING ON IT, 107,000 words in at the moment, 6 chapters mostly complete, probably at least 4 or 5 more to finish out?? At least? It's been a second since I wrote humanstuck stuff, haha, it's a fun shakeup.

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Gamzee turns his hands, and you let them go; he falters back like he wasn’t expecting that, and then cautiously touches your skin with cold fingertips, tracing along the place under your jaw where your armor doesn’t cover.  Pausing at your pulse, like he can feel how it’s pounding hard enough to make you shake.

He says, “...You scared of me?”

You don’t know.  You just look up at him, so fucking tired, and tilt your head to press against his touch.  

His hands slip around your throat, and you let them.  Frame your neck, almost lovingly, thumbs pressed against your jugular veins.  A careful hint of pressure that you know could knock you out in seconds if he squeezed.  

“Gonna tell me how okay I am again?” he says, and you can’t tell if it’s a dig or a plea.  His thumb strokes back and forth over your pulse, presses for a second, twitches away again.  “Go on, motherfucker.  Tell me how you’ll fix me.”

His grip tenses when you reach up—you move slow, breathing steady, and just rest a hand on his hand.  Like he did when you washed his hair for him, just holding him there.  Waiting.  

“Tell me how you’ll fix me,” he says again, and he’s begging, this time, his grip tightens and loosens and tightens again.  “Can’t stop you.  I’ll fuckin’ let you, even.  Won’t have to hurt me, I won’t make you.  Just tell me how I’m good for you, I swear I’ll learn.”

Your eyes are burning.  You can’t turn your face away from him, with his hands at your throat—and you’re so tired.  You’re so fucking tired of acting like you know what to do.  You can feel him hurting in your chest, reaching out for you now, giving in all in a rush, a flood; you don’t know how to take what he wants to give.  You don’t want to.  You can’t.

You shake your head, and feel a hot tear track down one of your cheeks, stupid and helpless.  Gamzee twitches back, eyes widening—reaches out like he’s going to brush the tear away, grits his teeth, jerks his hands away and knots them in his hair instead.

“Sorry,” he says, wretched and small.  “I’ll take, I’ll do, whatever penance—  I know you’re pissed, ‘m sorry—”

He flinches when you lean forward—when you touch his cheek he goes still, shivering.  When you kiss his forehead, he makes a noise like a bitten-off sob.

“What should I,” he starts, half-frantic, and you shake your head and kiss his cheek, his lips, the tip of his nose, combing your fingers at his hair.  “Do you want, should I—” his hand touches your thigh, hesitant—you twitch back despite yourself and he goes still, yanking his hand back like your skin burned him.  “Sorry, fuck, sorry—  Tell me the rules, motherfucker, tell me what you want!” 

He sounds half-desperate, and the tone of his voice burns, the way he’s looking at you.  Like he looked at his god, reverent and terrified.  

“You always knew what I should do, best friend, Karkat, your will be done, your motherfucking commandment—”

#miracrails #gamkar #homestuck #In Cold Blood #i have no idea what tag i used for that universe on this blog and I have to go to work so i have no time to check oh no haha #catch me cradling my blorbos in my hands like ''oh i think they should be a little fucked up'' #for spice!!! for flavor lol