Losing the ability to log into my other account because my mutuals don't interact with me there. If you aren't reblogging every post I make and cussing me out in the tags are we even mutuals.
I hate you @rainyamy stop making Tumblr actually fun. -_-
Listening to music. I'm starting to understand the Grimes hype as I respond to @rainyamy's increasingly desperate pleas for me to learn how to hyphenate properly.
LIZ IM GRABBING YOU BY YOUR SHOULDERS AND SHAKING YOU I NEED YOU TO WRITE A CONTINUATION OF THE VRISKA N FEM!ERIDAN FIC EXCEPT ITS THE AFTERMATH AND FEM!SOLLUX PETTY AND JEALOUS ABOUT ERIDAN SPARRING WITH HER EX-KISMESIS. I NEED IT NOW!!!!!!! they must suffer. or maybe kiss and make up. i am entrusting you to do the concept justice.
Sorry this took so long! You get jealous Sol, but only a little bit since that's mostly Eridan's domain 😭
Sollux closes the thermal hull with a force that shakes the rest of the mealblock.
"Could you keep it down?" You ask politely, burying your face deeper into your first edition volume of Interplanetary Alternain Battle Tactics. It’s a typical near-dawn date, which means that you get this coveted domesticality that you’ve been craving since before you learned how to crave. Not from Sollux, mind you, but it’s fine. You take what you can get, even if it is a bit unconventional.
You return your attention to your book. If she wants to make a mess of her hive, that’s her prerogative. You’ve long since learned to accept what quirks you can’t change and antagonize her about the ones you can change. Sleep hygiene, for example, is a work in progress.
You’re wrapped up in a particularly interesting segment about a zigzagging trench used to win the battle of 673MI when she speaks again.
"Were you going to tell me that you visited your ex kismesis?" She slams a nutrition plateau down on the counter with unnecessary force.
Ooh. This could be good.
"Why? Are you jealous?" You needle, making a point to hide your smirk behind your book.
"Why would I be jealous? I get more than enough of you," she bites back, beginning to shovel yesterday’s leftovers into her squawk gash. If you were looking, you’d probably see her talking with her seed flap open again. Thankfully, you’re not looking. Pointedly not looking. You have no idea why she’s had so many suitors. It’s frankly disgusting, proof that natural selection isn’t working correctly. More than anything, it makes your blood boil the way a good kismesissitude should.
Bad manners aside, this is an occasion to savor. it’s not often you start out with the upper hand, granted to you without any measure of foul play. "Well then why are you mad?" you ask coyly, turning the page to give the impression that you’re still focused on the book.
You’re somehow still surprised when she tears it away from you with her psionics, even though she’s been tearing shit out of your hands since before you were even together. Her fork is down on the counter and, as far as you can tell, she’s looking straight at you with those freaky eyes of hers. You look back. You firmly, vehemently ignore the curling warmth in your gut.
It is jealousy that she’s feeling. She cares enough to be jealous of your last kismesis. Your thump tortoise is fluttering – what a wonderful sweep to be a bleeding-pump romantic.
"You sparred with your ex kismesis," Sol says, gritting her teeth. She’s so cute you could explode.
"Sad that we haven’t been sparrin’?" You ask, doing nothing to disguise your smugness anymore. "Worried that you’re just not stimulatin’ me anymore? Thinkin’ I’d seek other outlets?"
"No. I know VK never hated you," Sol says, smiling when she realizes she’s struck a nerve. Still, you know she’s lying.
"So why are you still jealous?"
"I’m not jealous," she insists. "It’s just pretty damn crude if you ask me. I mean, really? You couldn’t even win? You had a gun. She had a handful of dice. You’re an embarrassment to me."
Well played. You’re actually a little bit humiliated now, despite knowing, logically, that she’s still jealous. You’re so frustrated by the accusation that you let her change the subject, just like that. "You know she’s lucky."
"You still did a piss-poor job. I mean, really? Where’s your aim?" Sollux begins to eat again, which shows that she’s comfortable enough to go back to her routine, which means that the smug asshole is winning. Fuck that.
"Bet you’d know about piss poor," you snip before you can stop yourself. Annoyance is loosening your tongue and she knows it. You hate her.
"Why? Because I’m a mustardblood? Very original of you." Sollux is completely unphased.
Time to try a different tactic. "Fine. You caught me. I thought you’d be happy that I didn’t want to cause grievous bodily harm to someone who wasn’t my kismesis, but I guess not. Contrarian asshat."
"You don’t enter a spar without intending to cause grievous bodily harm."
She’s not even looking at you anymore, choosing instead to devote her attention to her palmhusk. She’s typing, which means she’s texting, which means she’s texting someone who isn’t you – since you don’t have fancy psionics, you have to do this the old fashioned way. You stand, crossing the block in just a few strides – these communal hive stem cells are really lacking in space – to snatch her palmhusk away. The fact that you’re able to only goes to show that she let you snatch her husk away, which only serves to incense you more.
It’s clear what she wanted you to see. Teal text. Her informant, rubbing in how good her kismesis is compared to Sol’s pathetic seadwelling pet.
The universe conspires once again to push you back onto your ass. Sollux lets you read, smiling like a little shit.
"You’re not defendin’ my honor?" You snap, feeling like you should at least do . . . something in this situation to claim back your dignity. "You’re just lettin’ Terezi, second in line to the hyperbole throne, embellish the lies of the hyperbole queen?"
Sollux shrugs. "If you had any honor to defend, maybe I would."
You glare at her.
"So. Again. Just to be clear on the situation. You’re trustin’ Vriska, filtered through Terezi, to tell you that I lost at a spar?"
Sollux snorts, monosyllabic and derisive. "Hate to break it to you, but you confirmed it. The details honestly don’t matter to me."
It’s too late to bring up her jealousy again. She’s already gained control of the exchange by having enough dirt on you to dispute whatever allegations you throw her way. She’s proven that, by her measure, you are beneath her. Again. Well fuckin’ played.
"Where did you put my book?" You snap, feeling thoroughly done with this conversation. Sollux only smiles.
"Fetch," she quotes her forebearer, gesturing through the stupidly small block that anyone in their right pan could find anything in. It couldn’t have gone far, she’s saying. You’ve never hated her more in your entire miserable life.
Hard to be enemies with an enemies to lovers mf as an enemies to lovers writer. Stop that I see romantic subtext in threats and I don't like you like that
