I'd love to see something red and fluffy between Dave and Karkat, maybe involving the idea that Dave can't sleep in the veil because he's convinced he'll be attacked? Seeing super competent leader Karkat would be awesome too.

On the meteor, Rose, Dave, Kanaya, Terezi, and Karkat find themselves passing through a series of hooked-together dreambubbles inhabited by some utterly inexplicable grubs. Grubs that squeak and fuss and cling and chew holes in their clothes. Grubs who resemble to a distressing extent trolls whom the meteor-dwellers killed or were killed by, but essentially grubs who need someone to see to them, even in dreambubbles out of time.

In which Dave Strider, Karkat Vantas, and John Egbert decide to rent a house near campus pre-furnished to save themselves the unutterable joy of Ikea allen-wrenches, Dave discovers why you should never attempt to move a universe without assistance, and Karkat is the best housemate: it is hands-down no-questions-asked him.

See, okay, you are the best of housemates. It is definitely you. You don’t even fuck with his goddamn color-coded shit in the fridge and you absolutely do not go anywhere the fuck near his color-coded toothbrush major arcana in the bathroom. For the most part you kind of stand over here and let his weirdness just kind of handle itself. You have, however, reached your limit for this particular style and model of bullshit and so you bang on his door and when he sort-of grunts in response you bang on it again and then you try the knob and hey, check that shit out, it’s not locked. ...Wow, he looks like ass.

The first time you pass by the troll in the box you kind of try not to see it. It's gross as fuck when people do this. You guess maybe it's better than driving them out into the country and dumping them to make it on their own, or those stories you've heard about people dumping unwanted wrigglers in sacks into rivers--those you try not to think about because fuck, that is not okay on any level but it's not like you can do shit about it.

Karkat, rebel leader, makes an unsettling discovery during a supply-ship raid: a purple seatroll, disgraced, miserable, and massively gravid. It's hard to not stare at the huge mound of his belly. "It's gonna take us a couple nights to get back to the base. You're gonna have to stay in here. Please for all fuck's sake do not lay eggs on my bunk or I will have to flip my shit so hard the fucking ship's gyros will explode."