#nepetuh

AHHHH I ALWAYS FORGET YOU WATCH KILL LA KILL BUT I AGREE THEYRE SO SO SO CUTE

LIKE, JUST THEIR RELATIONSHIP IN GENERAL IS PERFECT?

The sound of a platypus slowly dying at the hands of a steamroller breaks you from the warm, comfortable, blissfully-quiet grip of sleep, and no, you definitely don’t yelp like a fucking pansy. Nope. Not you. How could you? Your face makes painfully-squishy contact with the hardwood flooring before you get the chance to make any kind of sound, manly or otherwise.

Your name is DAVE STRIDER, and you are absolutely positive that someday you’re going to brutally murder your roommate in a fit of delusional, sleep-deprived rage. It’s going to be bloody and beautiful and you probably won’t be sorry for at least a solid week after the fact. No one will be sad. Not you, not your best friend, and especially not his sister. (Okay, maybe you’re being a little harsh, but you’re pretty sure it’s Saturday and before noon so you’re totally justified.)

“What the actual fu--,” you groan, but before you can get the whole tragic statement out your words trail off in a sad, sad little wheeze. Because oh shit something soft and solid just landed on your back, and yep. Yep. You definitely just heard your spine crack. “Nepeta.”

Instead of responding, your girlfriend nuzzles her face into your neck and makes this kind of endearing, mumbled noise that doesn’t sound the least bit apologetic. You huff as much as you can with your ribcage crushed against the ground.

Meanwhile, your roommate continues his rampage, kicking the side of the sofa you and Nepeta had just been snoozing on a second time for good venting measure. “This is. Unacceptable,” he bites out, and something whizzes dangerously close to your ear before smashing against the floor just beside you. The sound of plastic hitting solid ground echoes through the wood and fuck that’s really fucking loud what the hell.