Dave never asked to be part of the Brady Bunch. This whole 'normal' thing is harshing his groove, really getting his non-ironic goat. John, of course, is delighted. (Post-game slice of life fic, cheerfully assumes a happy ending.)

You lose your pale virginity to John Egbert at a Gamzee Makara party.

John and Vriska wake up in bed together after a party. Can their bropalship survive in the wake of alcohol and hormones?

Your name is Dave Strider and you are 26 years old. You have just gotten engaged. The problem being that you have just gotten engaged to your best male friend in a furious fit of stupidity, champagne, one-upmanship and a weird warm-glowy feeling that occasionally (or more than occasionally) rolls around in the pit of your stomach and makes you act like a moron. You have, over the past 13 years and much careful experimentation, dubbed this “The Egbert Effect”. You would like to state, for the record, that you are definitely, completely and 100% NOT A HOMOSEXUAL. As Bro carefully describes to you what, as the DJ, he’s going to play at the reception (almost entirely a medley of Nicki Minaj and Ke$ha), you carefully nurse a Rock Star and vodka like a 16 year old girl who just popped her cherry at prom and try to figure out what the fuck happened over the past decade or so to land you in this mess.

Karkat Vantas, despite numerous protests, has just joined Alternia High's Gay-Straight Alliance. Shenanigans ensue.

A histrionic history.

You had thought he’d been so adamant about you coming over after school today to ask you out. And instead he gives you a fucking dick in a box and you tell him to take off his pants. Fucking great. Wow you suck.

You remember the first time you really realized you were fucked up. You were five. First year of kindergarten, miserable as all fuck. The teacher told the boys to line up on one side of the room and the girls on the other. You don't even remember why. You just remember the result.

You lose your pale virginity to John Egbert at a Gamzee Makara party.