Karkat is failing programming, English 101, and laundry. John can smell weakness, and like the best palhoncho he attacks weakness with friendship, relentless and obnoxious friendship. He has, however, delegated all of the butt touching to Jade and Dave.

Anonymous asked: Dave/Karkat/Jade urban fantasy. Dave is a vampire, Jade is a werewolf, and Karkat is so done with all this supernatural bullshit. (not super urban hahaha)

Anonymous asked: Pern dragons! Dave/Jade/Karkat! Yeah!

CG: BY THE WAY. CG: I SERIOUSLY HOPE YOU HAVE NOT A) DRAGGED ME INTO SOME VAMPIRES/WEREWOLVES OR VAMPIRES/HUNTERS WAR, AND B) FORGOTTEN I MIGHT CARE TO BE TOLD IF YOU WERE AT WAR WITH ANY ASSHOLES OUT HERE AND *IN DEATHLY DANGER.*

K'rkat burst into Sievereth's weyr, the bronze stretched out lazy and well-fed, oh Faranth's egg no. "Jade!" he screamed, startling the dragon. "Get out! And you, big lump, get up! Up and flying! Why are you still here?!" Jade came out of her corridor, rubbing her eyes. No doubt she'd spent all night bowed over her work table again and hadn't even eaten. "Oh, why are you yelling," she said around a yawn, "it's... not even mid-day yet!" "Yeah, by minutes!" Argh. No. No time. "Jade -- Bowith is bleeding her prey, and so is Kulirath."

He felt like the naked girl who'd just been a white wolf and the half-naked guy who'd just been a mangled corpse dragged into his barn by a wolf completely deserved his screaming. The ~magical~ turd-licking fence-fuckers masquerading as his classmates had been sneak-flirting with him for weeks. "Is my life actually a shitty supernatural romance?! Am I going to develop more special than you powers that somehow never matter half as much as who I fuck? Am I supposed to arbitrate your little game of which one of you is the sexiest alpha male by gracing them with my boy cooch?" -- now with sequel pesterlog silliness.