Chapter Text
Strider: Have A Fashion Emergency
TG: my god this is asinine
TG: youd think with a wardrobe the size of a manhattan apartment and a team of professional stylists and a gazillion labels sending me free shit all the time id actually have something decent to drape over my meat puppet
TT: You’d think.
TG: what do you even wear on a date rose
TG: i dont go on dates im not a date guy
TT: Are you asking what I wear on dates specifically? Because I am not lending you another dress.
TT: You are catastrophically hard on clothes.
TG: you mean that time at the grammys because that was not my fault
TT: I’m referring to Jade’s birthday party.
TG: oh
TG: okay well that one was my fault
TG: but no worries i dont think this dude would be into the grimdark bride of cthulhu aesthetic
TG: no offense
TT: None taken
TG: arghhhh why are all my clothes so fucking gay
TT: Because you are gay.
TG: thats not the point
TG: the point is this guy is gonna take one look at me and be like who is this glam rock douchebag and how could i ever have considered letting him put his anatomy anywhere near mine
TG: rose please
TG: im pretty sure that since we look so similar that john cant tell us apart without his glasses youre contractually obligated to help
TT: So you actually want concrete suggestions?
TT: Apologies. I thought this was just a bitchfest.
TG: im on my knees here
TT: Really.
TG: well no im actually in the bath but i really do need help
TT: You’re texting in the bath?
TG: everybody texts in the bath
TT: Apparently I am the last to know.
TT: What were you wearing when you met? Obviously you were doing something right if he agreed to a date even after he was thrown out by your security team.
TG: idk something nuts i was drunk
TT: Don’t take this the wrong way, but in perusing your latest photoshoots, videos, and public appearances I feel duty-bound to let you know that last week’s gala is not the only occasion inebriation seems to have been involved in your wardrobe choices
TG: okay well whose girlfriend is my designer
TT: Don’t blame Kanaya.
TT: All of her designs are based around the individual’s personal style. She wouldn’t put you in a fringed jacket and pencil skirt if there wasn’t an aspect of your personality that cried out for it.
TG: i looked hot as fuck in that skirt and you know it
TT: There you go then.
TT: Wear that.
TG: i cant i ripped it
TG: or maybe that was the one i spilled slushie on
TG: whatever the point is i dont have a pencil skirt anymore rose and i dont have time to get christine to bring me one karkats picking me up in an hour
TG: i am every goddamn teen movie ever made this is a straight up crisis
TG: fuck hold on dirk is pestering me
TT: tell him i say hello
TG: tell him your goddamn self its the internet age
TT: I am going to just go ahead and assume that you have an extremely relevant and well-rehearsed reason as to why you are hogging the bathroom, so let me go on the record here by saying I don’t really give a shit
TG: dude you have your own bathroom
TT: Not one with a tub
TG: that is an utter lie you have a bathtub
TT: Right. I’ll rephrase–not one with a gigantic marble-topped rich asshole orgy tub.
TT: What are you moping around for?
TG: what the hell why do i have to be moping
TG: cant a guy slow boil himself in his own damn apartment
TT: You’re in a bubble bath listening to Troye Sivan at window-shaking volume. You don’t need two bachelor’s degrees and a genius IQ to figure that out but wow, holy shit.
TT: I have those things.
TT: This is about a dude, isn’t it.
TG: no
TT: For instance…a dude about five foot seven, with a cute ass and a bad haircut
TG: how the fuck do you know about him are you talking to lalonde
TT: No, dickhead.
TT: I know because he is currently sitting on your ugly leopard print couch, clutching his cell phone like it’s the last jelly donut at the roadside stop a mile from hell, looking like he wants to shrivel up and die.
TG: what
TG: no
TG: thats bullshit hes not coming until eight
TT: It’s 8:44
TG: what the heck
TT: You are the only person on this planet who could lose track of time with a timekeeping device literally in their hand.
TG: hey listen fuck you im great with time
TT: I would get out here quick, dude.
TT: Your guy looks awful lonesome, and there’s only so much fuckin pining I can take
TT: I may have to comfort him with my body.
TG: bullshit karkat isnt your type
TT: How do you know that?
TG: because he doesnt wear booty shorts or talk like a dictionary from 1860 boned an episode of masterpiece theatre
TT: Fair.
TT: Just get out here. There’s being fashionably late and then there’s being an entitled prick
TG: okay uh
TG: tell him im coming and like give him a beer or something
TT: Already made him a drink. Not all of us were born in a shack in the woods.
TG: just hold on i uh
TG: gotta get dressed
TG: thirty seconds