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.)

Karkat's a big stupid romantic, and romance is a language: sloppier than anything Sollux has ever programmed, but it still has its own grammar and its own important commands. This scar-trading ritual thing means, believe that I'm sticking around.