Our Little Secret

Shhhhh...

[indulgingfiction]

Navigational Junk!!!! (Tags. Yep.)

Fandoms

Homestuck Fanfiction mostofthefanfictionohjeez

Ships

Lovely Beta Foursomeness

John and Dave, Sitting In a Tree

SolKat, The Ship of the Gods

CronKri, The Ship of the Assholes

  Series/Multichaptered Stories Extraordinary

  Other things!!!

My Archive Just talking about things that have nothing to do with anything even remotely interesting.

Answering Asks

You can submit stuff to me!!!

You can also draw things!

  And the thing that I know you've all come here for...

~*~*~SMUT~*~*~

[indulgingfiction]

The Wild Blue Yonder

"We will never speak of this to anyone. Understood?"

"Ugh, fuck, no, Oh my God, go away, why would you ever think this is a good idea?!"

You roll your eyes at… yourself, and grab onto his shoulders, shaking him. "Why would you even have to ask that? When are we ever going to get another chance like this? A chance to make out with your own real, live self? As in, not making out with some weird dead ghost thing."

He blinks back at you, and it's surreal to be able to read indecision in your own eyes. Wow, is your face always that expressive? Holy shit, that sucks, you'll have to work on that.

"Well, yeah, but-"

"It's totally not gay if it's with yourself. We've already agreed with Dave on that, remember? It would totally count as masturbation."

"Can you not bring Dave into this?! He's right fucking there, and if he sees this, i'll never hear the end of it."

"Okay, first of all, Dave doesn't have any room to talk about anything. We have enough dirt on him to last a lifetime. Secondly, he's totally already done this. You know damn well the first thing he did with his time powers was have a Strider Orgy, alright? So quit being such a pansy and lets do this."

"I'm not a-" You don't allow yourself to finish before you're smashing your faces together, glasses and teeth clanking together painfully. He pulls away with a hiss, but you are bound and determined to not let such a little thing as pain get in the way of your first real sexual encounter, even if it is with yourself. You dive right back in, this time a bit more mindful, and slide your lips together. His feel softer then yours, but at the same time, if you close your eyes and concentrate, you can feel dips on his in the same position that you've pretty much permanently imprinted the shape of your teeth. When you lick at the seam of them, you can feel your tongue catch slightly on the same chapped patches your own have. When you delve in more, you can feel the scar, just below the inside of his lip, at the corner, where you have accidentally bit yourself for as long as you can remember when you're not paying enough attention to what you're doing when you're trying to eat.

It's weird. His lips feel different. His skin feels different. But at the same time, he mirrors everything about you. Because he is you.

He cards his fingers through your hair, and you gasp, the sensation so much different when somebody else does it, so much stronger when you can't feel the thick strands in between your own fingers. You return the favor by nipping at his bottom lip, hopefully in the way that you always thought would be pretty damn sexy if anyone ever decided to do it to you.

By the breathless, nasally noise the other you made, you would say you were pretty successful.

You had just a second, though, to be embarrassed on your own behalf before he was pushing back, making the both of you tumble through the air, hoodies tangling together, and you have a moment to think about how much of a bitch it's going to be to untie them if they end up knotting up before he's grabbing for your hands, trying to force them together behind your back. Which is a neat idea, you suppose, under normal circumstances, but as it was, you immediately pushed back yourself, and since you're exactly the same person, neither one of you can overpower the other. You call in a gust of wind from one side to right you, to shift you into a position of dominance, and he calls in one from the other side, only riling you and him up more as the forces clash before mingling.

He finally gives up on keeping your hands out of the way, and instead thrusts both hands into your hair, fisting and yanking sharp enough you could feel it all the way to your toes.

"Fuck!"

"Quit being such a pansy," he tosses back at you, and your torn between wanting to sneer (at your own smug face) and wanting to just laugh at the ridiculousness of everything that's happening. You settle somewhere around the middle by reaching down and copping a feel of your own ass in a move of narcissism that even Karkat would be impressed by. He laughs for you, right against your mouth, and the next thing you know, you're joining in with him.

Until he wraps his legs around your waist, and circles his hips in that way you've practiced, in secret, on your pillow, and holy shit, all the shame and embarrassment that you went through while you did it went right out the window because that was definitely something worth practicing, you are going to make some lady very happy one day with the hip swivel. Or, dude. It definitely felt good on a dude, and you were reaching the stage where as long as you got a little bit of attention, it didn't matter which gender or whatever it was coming from. Which was pretty obvious by the fact that you were, in fact, not only allowing another male to grind up against you- he's starting to get hard, and despite yourself and the situation, you could feel the blood rushing between your own legs, stiffening up your own cock-, who was not only a dude, but you.

You were bumping and grinding with yourself. It is simultaneously the coolest and most pathetic thing you have ever done in your entire life.

You jerk your hips up, once, twice, and you've never been able to get much friction when you were wearing the ultra soft godly pajama pants, but suddenly when they rub against equally soft fabric, it catches and slides just the perfect amount, absolutely sinfully pleasurable, you can barely process the fact that the hard thing rubbing up against your hip is, in fact, an erection. It feels like… nothing, actually. Not anything in particular, not through four layers of clothes. Probably for the best. This is not something that you want to over think.

You both easily settle on a rhythm (duh, of course you do), and you squeeze the curve of his ass under your hands. Later, you'll have to question why you never feel very confident about your own looks, especially your hips and rear end which had always been too wide in your own not so humble opinion, but when you're grabbing at the ass that isn't attached to you, it doesn't feel too bad. Yeah, you can still notice he's a bit wide in the hips for a guy, but not nearly as terrible as you always imagined it to be. Who would've guessed that having a quickie with yourself could actually be pretty good for your sense of self confidence?

It's insane, it really is. He mouths at your neck, accidentally grazing it with his teeth, and you're spinning, spiraling around, but the weightless, dizzy, vulnerable feeling of that doesn't detract, only adds, and you're rutting against each other almost mindlessly, grunting and groaning in stereo, and you both finish embarrassingly quickly, shuddering against each other, lowering down towards the ground slowly, like a deflating balloon. Two deflating balloons that totally just got each other off, and also happened to be the same balloon.

"Yo...!" You turn your head, looking for where the call came from, only to realize that you had some how ended up upside down- the tails of your hoods were tangled up around your left ankle, you also notice- and you jerk yourself up, making the other you groan and kick you in the shin. You pinch his side, even as you squint your eyes at the red blob in the distance that you think is Dave. Oh. Fuck, yeah, he and Jade were right there, weren't they. You really didn't think this through very well. "Y'all fall asleep fightin', or were y'all fuckin? Answer quick, now. You were fucking, right? Tell me you were, oh please tell me, I'mma gonna get some nice shiny boondollars in my pocket." He doesn't wait for an answer before he turns to Jade, holding out his hand towards her. "Just go ahead and cough up the dough, Harley, I so clearly won this bet."

"...Oh my God, why did I let you talk me into this?" You cut your eyes towards yourself, snorting as he grabbed onto your knees, pulling himself up and pushing you down at the same time, giving himself space to work on untangling the knot that your hoods had made of themselves.

"Wow, because you really put up a whole lot of a fight about it, didn't you?"

He opened his mouth to retort, when you suddenly felt something grab your ass, and you yelp, almost kicking yourself in the face- "Hey, watch it!!!"-, twisting around only to see a disembodied hand wiggling in the air. An awfully familiar looking disembodied hand.

"Nope. Nope, that's it, I'm done, I'm gone."

You fly off, away from Dave, away from Jade, away from your own hand, dragging yourself with you, kicking and complaining, but you know what?

Screw him.

[indulgingfiction]

Nothing Like a Davidson

You are not sure exactly how the machine was obtained- Well, no, that wasn't quite right. Though you were not the kind who enjoyed making assumptions, mostly because they seemed to him to have a tendency to blow up, hurt others, and even worse, make you look the fool when they turn out wrong, but when there was something mechanical that showed up in the bubbles, something new, chances were rather high that it was brought into being by Horuss. Especially when the machine happened to be as large and mean looking as the one before you, though you hesitate to attribute such a negative connotation to an inanimate object, but.

It was big, dwarfing even the sea dweller who was sitting himself upon it, so just going by it's size, it was quite intimidating. The build was nothing like the two wheeled devices you were used to seeing, even of the motorized kind, which had always seemed terribly unsafe to you, speeding around with barely any protection against roads or other vehicles and let's not even contemplate what could happen should a crash take you off the road, or crush you all over the road, or-

Mean. Yes. On second thought, that seemed a very fitting word for such a deadly contraption.

Although, you suppose, being dead already, most of the danger had been taken out of it.

"'Mazin', right?" You blink, even as you lift your head, colorless eyes turning to look at the violet troll straddling the still object, face completely devoid of it's usual smug slyness, completely open with a kind of wrigglerish joy that even you could hardly help but find enchanting. "God, she's a real beaut! I can barely evwen believwe that Zahhak did so wvell! It's, like, an honest ta goodness Harley! Just like from my mags! No extra horse dicks or nothin'!"

"Language," you chide him, an automatic slip of the tongue that, after all the centuries, you're not quite sure why you still bother, sometimes. He'll pull out his old 'Sorry Chief' and the wide, round eyes that aren't really very effective at all when they're just blank white, trying to convince you that he won't do it again. And maybe he won't, for the rest of the conversation. Maybe he'll keep himself in line around you for the rest of the week. But sometime, and sooner rather then later, he'll do it again. "Musclebeast art, while occasionally controversial, is something that has shaped our culture, and though you and I may not appreciate the art in and of itself as certain others do, we should not depreciate it, or them."

"Sorry Chief." You don't roll your eyes, but only barely, and mostly because you've never been able to master the ability to keep your eyebrows from twitching when you do, which is a dead give away, and there is absolutely nothing worse then being called out on it. "Got a little bit awvay from m'self, there. It's jus' that this is evwery thing I'vwe dreamed of. Hell, more then I could'vwe dreamed of. 'M not that great wvith imaginin' up the technical stuff, y'knowv?"

"It's good that you can see your own limitations, and take them into account, though on the other hand, you walk a dangerous line between a healthy knowledge of yourself, and a detrimental lack of confidence which, as you friend, I must be concerned about. Should you put your mind to it, I'm sure that there would be no end to the amount of technological and mechanical baubles you could will into existence."

The corner of his lip quirked up, that oh so familiar smirk that means he's taking your words as some sort of flirtatious compliment, though in reality that was not at all your intention, but you let it slide. He doesn't tend to take it farther then that with you anymore, and you cannot actually censor what goes on in his mind, as much as you would like to, so it's best to not exhaust yourself on a useless endeavor.

Besides, you're still not actually sure what Cronus is doing there, on his "Harley", just before the memory of your hive, and that is far more pressing on your mind then him thinking you're coming onto him.

As if reading your mind- and isn't that a horrifying though, Ampora having access to your innermost thoughts-, he shifts from where he's sitting, reaching back to pat the small amount of seat left on the vehicle that he wasn't taking up, himself. "Wvanna go fer a spin, Kan?"

"...Pardon?" You're not sure what you were expecting, but that was not it. He wants you to get on that…that thing with him? You don't even see any protective headgear anywhere. For fuck's sake, pardon the language, Cronus himself wasn't even wearing that leather jacket that he'd practically adopted as part of his own anatomy, so there was nothing between him becoming a gruesome smear on the asphalt other then a thin white tee and a pair of jeans that seem a little worn through around the knees.

"Come on a ride wvith me, Kankri. It'll be a blast, I swvear. You ain't nevwer felt nothin' like it."

You open your mouth, a denial on the tip of your tongue, because you do not want to climb onto that ridiculous machine (in the deepest parts of your mind, you feel like, should you get onto the 'motorcycle', it might literally eat you). But his face is open, again. Hopeful. And as impartial as you've always try to be, it's impossible when he looks at you like that, like he actually wants your company, like he actually cares what you think. And once more, one more moment in time which you will never admit to, you find yourself unable to tell him no.

But you don't feel comfortable telling him yes, either.

Instead, you kind of shuffle forward, slowly, hesitantly reaching out, brushing fingertips against the leather of the seat. It was cool, and not exactly soft, but much smoother feeling then you would have thought, and you hope that it is a sign that getting on it, riding it, will not be as bad as you imagine.

And you remind yourself, again, that you are already dead, and should the two of you wipe out, you will not be mangled for very long at all.

The thought does not comfort you nearly as much as you wish that it would.

"There is not a lot of room," you point out. For such a large contraption, and for yourself being as petite as you know that you are, with Cronus already sitting upon it, there is not enough space for you to sit upon it and not be touching the seadweller.

"It's a bit of a tight squeeze," he admits, smirking somewhere halfway between cheeky and apologetic, and shrugs. "But you'd have to press up all nice and close to me, anywvay, Chief. 'Less you wvanna fall off, y'feel me?"

Oh.

"Oh, I don't think that I-"

But he reaches out to you, taking a hold of your arm, and even through your thick sweater, the chill of his body raising goosebumps on your arm.

"C'mon, Kan. Please. Just a quick go 'round the block."

You know better. You know that if anyone else sees you, you won't hear the end of it for at least a decade. The entire concept of that is almost enough to have your eye twitching in annoyance. But you find yourself sighing, awkwardly straddling yourself onto the bike, having to pull up your sweater and take a hold of Cronus' arm to pull yourself up, grunting as you shift around on the small bit of leather and try not to think too much about how your feet don't touch the ground. You feel off balanced, like you'll fall off at any moment, and you are close, far too close to the highblood, knees brushing against his thighs, your chest only a few inches away from his back.

"Y'ain't gonna stay on like that, Chief. Hold up a sec..." He reached down, hooking his hands around the back of your knees, tugging you forward until you're pressed flushed against him, legs spread almost uncomfortably wide to accommodate his own, and without any thought on your part, your hands jerk up, fisting into his shirt around his shoulder blades, the sudden movements making your already precarious positioning feel even less secure, despite the extra hold, the strength in his digits.

You do not remember the last time you were this physically close to another being, and you do not think that you are enjoying it. He's cold against your front, and large, you hadn't noticed just how big he was until you were sitting behind him and notice that the top of your head isn't even close to reaching his shoulders. Between Cronus and the monstrosity of a machine underneath you, you feel tiny and weak and insignificant.

And.

You.

Loathe.

It.

"There wve go. Hold on tight, Swveetheart."

You don't even get a chance to reprimand the cheap endearment that you've heard him toss around billions of times, because he was shifting, pushing the bike upright- you never even actually noticed it was tilted slightly to the side, the way he'd been bracing it with his leg until he no longer was-, and you hear the click of a key turning on the ignition, and then-

And then your world is overtaken by the sound of the motor, the feel of it, loud and overbearing and shaking you to your core.

Literally. Your entire body is shaking with the vibrations, but you can barely feel it, all of your attention taken by the sudden awareness of how, sitting as you are, with your legs spread the way they are, your nook, oh your nook is pressed against that smooth leather seat, and the way it rumbles against it, like the universe's largest purrbeast. Except the purring of some oversized fauna wouldn't have you gasping for air that you no longer need, wouldn't have you flushing red all the way to the tips of your ears, wouldn't have you pressing yourself closer against anyone, let alone your oft times wayward friend, if only so that you can cant your hips for an even better feel of those sinful vibrations.

Cronus hasn't even started going, yet. Just turned on the bike.

You have an awful, sinking feeling that you might be fucked.

You can't hear Cronus laugh so much as you can feel his back shaking against you, and that's the only warning you get before he revs the engine, and takes off, leaning forward for, you suppose, better aerodynamics. Or, you would suppose, if you weren't simultaneously scared out of your mind and turned on beyond all reason, arms slipping down quickly to wrap around the surprisingly slender waist in front of you, hoping that the noise you could feel working it's way out of your throat but unable to hear between the roaring of the motorcycle and the rushing of your own blood through your veins was a sound of distress, and not a moan of pleasure. Even more then that, you hoped that Cronus couldn't hear it, either way.

You remember overhearing once a conversation that Porrim was in, talking about how a small dash of fear, a heaping helping of adrenaline, would often times not kill off arousal, but enhance it, like pouring oil upon a flame. At the time, you hadn't understood, writing it off as another strange sexual deviance your well meaning but so very misinformed friend dallied in, but this time you were the one in the wrong. You were very much petrified, you were very much aroused, and the two combined in a way that had you withering behind Cronus, thighs clenching and twitching, squeezing against him and then pushing a little bit away, each movement you make changing where you receive the strongest vibrations. Squeeze tight and you get direct stimulation against the blossoming lips of your nook, quickly swelling and opening all on it's own, the once comfortable fabric of your pants suddenly irritating, too much against your sensitive folds, and you almost sobbed when you realized that they were clinging to you, they were so damp with your own arousal. Spread your legs and you feel a cool wind against the damp crotch of your pants, and the vibrations echo across the base of your sheath, whispering up your entire bone bulge, overwhelming the squirming length beneath the protective shield, the tip just barely unsheathing, as if it wasn't sure whether or not what it was feeling was pleasure or pain.

Cronus took twists and turn on a road you couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes to see, feeling like he kept going faster and faster. Or maybe that was just you, your mind spinning faster and faster as you try to figure out if you're feeling extreme pleasure, or a pleasure so extreme it's actually painful. You're leaning towards the latter, the slickness between your thighs quickly tipping over from sensitive to over sensitve in the blink of an eyes, even at the same time you feel your inner muscles start to clench, your whole body tensing.

Your grip on Cronus tightens so much you can feel him vocalize a slight complaint, claws pricking through his shirt to graze the tough skin beneath, and you pull your hips up, removing nook and bulge from direct stimulation, but somehow that makes you hyper aware of the echos of the vibrations through the rest of your body, shaking through the air, and Cronus revved the engine once more and that was it. You clung to him, mouth open, eyes practically rolling up into the back of your head, whole body shaking as your nook went through almost violent contractions.

Miracle of miracles, Cronus begins to slow down not long after, saving you the agony of even more of an overload of sensations then you were already feeling, and as soon as he rolled to a stop, you were pulling off with shaking legs, looking dazed, face still red and wet with tears you weren't aware you'd shed. Cronus doesn't get off the bike with you, but he does take a hold of your elbow, helping steady you as you try and remember how to make your legs work again. And how to keep a horrified expression off of your face when you notice a very bright splotch of red on the pale fabric of the highblood's jeans.

Your own pants are dark, so any stains are unnoticeable. That incriminating red on the curve of your friend's behind was anything but.

Close to panicking, you focus all of your attention on willing the damp redness gone, out of existence before anyone else notices, because then it'll be like it never even happened, a secret moment of shame at your own inability to control your body. But it wasn't going away, would probably never go away if the knowing chuckle that escaped Cronus meant anything.

Your gaze shifts immediately towards his face, eyes wide, just in time to see him throw you a wink.

"Told ya it'd be fun." He most certainly did not, but you didn't have a chance to inform him of that before he was blowing you a kiss, a move that had you gritting your teeth in annoyance. "Wve'll have to go on another spin again sometime, an' soon, yeah?"

And then he was off, on his loud, mean, amazing bike, showing your red in a testament that you can no longer boast of chasteness without feeling a stinging shame, and the knowledge that next time he rolls to your hive on his obnoxious Harley, you'll take him up on his offer of a ride around the block again.

[indulgingfiction]

Extraordinary, Chapter 8

Sorry for the wait, my friends.  Hope you enjoy this.  Jade's a babe, and I really do enjoy writing her.  Definitely going to have to do that more often.

He'd been out for a while- almost seven hours, but Jade wasn't worried. Or more, of course she was worried, just like Dave and Rose, but she was more familiar with this kind of behavior being exhibited by John. Sometimes, she remembered, he'd stay awake for days on end, only to be found later, on a couch, at a table, at a desk, completely passed out from exhaustion. He'd stay up until he would actually start hallucinating, seeing or hearing things, paranoid saying his slimer pogo was chasing him, he always knew the damned thing had it out for him; or the infamous birthday where he screamed and ranted up at a Davesprite in the sky that just wasn't there. After one of those episodes, i hadn't been uncommon for him to sleep for a solid day and a half or so.

She sighed, and reached up from where she'd been laying beside her ecto-quasi-brother, brushing stray hairs absentmindedly off of his forehead, as she took in his appearance. He looked so young, so innocent when he was sleeping, but if the bags under his eyes were anything to go by, she'd hazard a guess that he'd been just starting to reach his sleepless limit.

She wondered if it was because he still had nightmares of waking up in a dream bubble, surrounded by the corpses of Rose, her mother…and his father.

She wished she had known. Wished she had thought to ask John how his time in the bubbles went. I had just been so simple for her to manipulate her own, and the few people that she ran across handled the bubbles so easily, she thought it was just an inherit skill everyone who came in contact with the Game wold have. She never even considered the possibility that John would get stuck in his own personal version of hell.

That had always been the problem, though, hadn't it? She never really thought to ask John if he was okay, because the concept of John not okay was just so strange, so alien. John was the rock of the group; no matter what was going on, you could count on him to crack that beautiful, imperfect, contagious smile, and you just knew that everything was going to turn out alright in the end. His smile was a beacon of hope, something to fight for, something to strive for. Before the Game, it ha been a reprieve from everyone's less than average lives; talking to John could make anyone feel blessedly normal, he gave them a chance to just be kids, talking to another kid, talking to their friend, who didn't expect anything out of them then to just be themselves. During the Game, it was a reminder of what they were fighting for, everything good that they wanted back, needed back, were damn sure going to get back.

It had been something that she thought about a lot, and God knew she and Davesprite had brought it into conversations enough times, had sa down and had feelings jams that would invariably, eventually take a turn that lead to John. So why was it that she only found out about his dreams just when everything was ending, and he picked up that little consort of his one last time, whispering so quietly, she wouldn't have heard if not for the fact that her ears just so happened to be tilted the right way at the time, that he'd miss her, but at least she wouldn't have to hear about his dead daddy issues anymore. So why was it that, if she and Davesprite, and even Nannasprite on occasion, would talk about the importance of John, how much he meant to everything, and everyone, and how they just prayed he wasn't going to actually be The Hero, let anyone else take that place because no one could stand the thought of him sacrificing himself for everyone else, how was it that he never knew that they felt that way? How was it that, as often as she thought about his smile, she didn't notice when it disappeared.

"Fuck." She shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder- too bony, it didn't used to feel like that, all hard sharp angles, she used to love leaning up against his shorter frame, resting with her head on his lap, just to be able to touch and hold him, she missed that, she missed him- blindly reaching for his hand, threading their fingers together, calming herself by comparing the two. For how much smaller John was on a whole, it never ceased to amuse her how his hands were just as big as her own, his palm a little shorter and his fingers a little longer, but when placed together, heel of the palm to the tips of the fingers, the difference in length was infinitesimal. It would be funny, their size, if it weren't for the fact that they were absolutely the most beautiful hands Jade had ever seen on anyone. They were lovely, skin so smooth, not roughened from years spent out in the sun like her own, or even to a certain extent Dave's, though he was sporting a bit of a tan that she was sure he never had before. And the pads of his fingers were not as soft and gentle as she once recalled, but were still newborn smooth compared to the callouses of her own hand, brought from years of working her garden and maintaining her guns and tinkering with her experiments, and markedly smoother from Dave's own fingers, tempered from years of swordplay and scratching his records in his spare time. Rose was the closest comparison she could think of, and even then, it was hardly a match, when one of Rose's hands had built up protective callouses from years of mastering the strings of her violin.

But both of John's hands were so soft, a gentle touch, fascinating to watch dexterous fingers work, move absentmindedly, fascinating to watch his hands wave about emphatically, enthusiastically, whenever he'd talk. So different from Davesprite, and how he had always held himself stiff, like he was afraid of his body giving too much of his thoughts away. So different from any of the trolls she ran across in her dreams. When John talked, it was just with his mouth. He communicated with his entire body.

Or, he used to, all the time. Jade didn't like the new way he went quite, not just with his voice, but his hands, his eyes, quiet and still and shut down. She especially didn't like the quiet, calm tone he used when he tried to convince them to just let him walk out of their lives at first, with his eyes as large and earnest as she could ever recall, like it was just the reasonable, expected thing for them to let him do. She didn't like a single damn bit of it.

But she loved John. And if that…new facet of his personality was a permanent one, then she'd learn to live with the quiet tones and the quiet hands. Because she was never going to be separated from him again, to go without him again, and if John thought any differently, then he could just go and kiss her ass.

He shifted, stiffing, and all other thoughts were forgotten as Jade pushed herself up on her elbow, brushing the back of her fingers tenderly across John's cheek, cooing softly and pressing a gentle kiss onto his forehead as he blinked wearily up at her, looking confused and lost.

"...Jade?" he slurred, squinting up at her, vision blurry, not only because of his lack of glasses, but from just waking up.

"Yeah, it's me." She stretched her legs out, resting the right one right along the side of her fellow Prospit Dreamer's, hoping that it all seemed like just very casual, when in reality she was actually getting herself ready at a moment's notice to wrap up around him, to put him in some kind of hold, a headlock if she could manage it, because if he freaked out again, there was just no way she could keep him pinned down all by herself.

He turned his head, brows furrowing as he attempted to look around. " Rose and Dave went out for a bit, but they'll be back soon." She absentmindedly played with the ends of his hair, even as her own eyes flickered towards the door. They'd been hesitant to leave even for a little bit, but unlike Jade, they actually had schedules for their work that involved other people, people that they had to talk to every once in a while over the phone, if not in person. They also had more experience in making sure that when they went traveling, it stayed quiet and out of the public's eye. Which meant that Jade insisted that they be in charge of working out how they were all going to quietly get back to the little home sweet home they built in California.

And, well, there were some things that she had to say to John. Herself. And it wasn't that she particularly cared about Dave or Rose hearing, but they'd immediately come in and try to support her, protect her, coddle both her and John, and if they did that, she'd never get it off of her chest. She needed to be able to move on before she could help John do the same, and as much as she loved her blond menaces, they couldn't help with it, because they just weren't there.

Besides, she was kind of hoping that they'd go and have a quickie or something while they were out, and then tell her all about it so she could live vicariously through her Dersites for a moment or two. Lord knew that a quick lay wouldn't hurt a single one of them.

"Oh..." He blinked again, a slow, unsure motion, and then he was rolling onto his side, facing Jade, and to his blurry vision, she looked all of about sixteen again, too young to have the weight of worlds resting upon her slender shoulders. "Jade… Jade, please. I can go, right now. Be out of your hair for good." He was barely even awake, and it showed, in the way he his speech was almost slurred, mouth not quite moving at the same speed as his brain, in the way that he just casually placed his hand on her waist, squeezing, attempting to give her physical encouragement to say goodbye. Like a pat on the shoulder, you can do it, Sis, I believe in you, go and do the right thing. Showed in how big and wide and earnest his eyes were.

The words were barely out of his mouth when Jade was curling around him, arms wrapping around his neck, pushing his face against her shoulder even as she was tossing her leg over his thighs, hooking it to keep him close, burying her face in his hair.

"We can't just let you go, numbnuts," she breathed, words muffled slightly, bu they way he stiffened, tensed under her let her know that he heard. "You're a part of us. An integral part. And I..." her voice broke for a second, and she squeezed him harder, "I'm sorry that I let you convince yourself otherwise. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me. I'm so sorry I didn't pay enough attention, I'm-"

"No. No, no, no no no, stop!" And then he was squeezing her back, arms clenched almost painfully around her, but she'd chew her own foot off before she'd say anything about it. "Goddammit, No, Jade, it's not like that! Not a single damn bit of anything is your fault, so don't you dare blame yourself!"

She snorted, slightly, because honestly, if there was anyone to blame, it was going to be her. She was the only other human- well, halfway human, maybe- he had contact with for three years. She was one of three other people on the ship with whom he could actually sit down and have intelligent conversations with, let alone ones about feelings and how what was going on was actually affecting everyone. The other two were the ghost of a grandmother he never actually knew, and a version of his best friend who, admittedly, seemed to go out of his way an awful lot of aggravate the heir. If she had actually stopped to think, she would have recognized that the only one who'd he'd actually feel comfortable talking to about anything would be her. But she hadn't been thinking, and she hadn't been paying attention. After the first few months, managing the planets and the ship were second nature, barely a whisper of a thought in the back of her mind, so that couldn't even be used as an excuse. And the relationship she had with Davesprite… No singular relationship was more important than her friends, even if said relationship was with another friend. Maybe especially if it was with another friend.

"I can actually kind of feel you thinking stupid things, and you need to stop." She snorted again, but that time with more genuine humor. "....Seriously, though. You had enough on your plate without adding my issues into the mix. Especially when there wasn't anything you could have done o help me then. ...Or now, unless you know a way to permanently obliterate a few memories."

The last part was mumbled, quiet, obviously not meant for her to actually hear, which was probably for the best. She had no idea how to respond to it. Even if she was somehow capable of doing that, destroying memories, she couldn't imagine actually doing it. No matter how painful they might be, they were the fabric of everyone's being, every last bit of it. If she wouldn't consent to forgetting the time that an evil alien queen took over her mind- which was, for the record, the worst, most horrifying experience that she ever had, and would rather be blown up and put back together by slimy, tentacled eldritch gods for a thousand years then have someone invade her mind like that again- then there was no way she could allow it to happen to John. Her John. He wouldn't be her John anymore if he lost part of himself. She'd lose him, forever, and she couldn't have that, she just fucking found him again.

So, instead, she said "I love you," because she did. More then he could probably even imagine right then. But she was going to make it her life's goal to show him.

But then he immediately responded, too easily to have put conscious thought into it, "I love you, too." So maybe it wouldn't be such a difficult job. Maybe even John, beautiful John, stubborn as hell John, subconsciously understood what they all needed.

It was nothing if not a good sign.

"Oh, good. You're awake, John." Jade looked up, smiling and loosening her hold on the blue eyed man as she watched he blond duo walk in, a little surprised that she hadn't heard them opening he door. And then the scent of freshly- very freshly- applied perfume and cologne followed them, heavier even then the heavily garlic scent of Italian food, and her trained eyes caught the slight muss of Rose's hair, the sight of a mark barely hidden by Dave's collar. Her smile turned into a grin, and she waggled her eyes at the Texan above John's head, and behind his reflective shades, she caught the hint of movement that signified a wink. "We figured you'd be hungry, so we took the liberty to get some dinner. I do hope you still enjoy lasagna."

[indulgingfiction]

Feedback about 'Extraordinary' from a fan :D

Greetings!

I really wish AO3 would implement a PM system already but you having a tumblr is an acceptable alternative. I just wanted to avoid clogging your comments section with this text dump. :P

I'll start with a little gushing. 'Extraodinary' is frikin' epic! :D

First of all, I'll like to say that BetaOT4 is, by far, my favorite pairing in Homestuck. A little unusual and strange, yes, but unquestionably awesome nonetheless! So whenever a story featuring that ship comes along that has some quality writing behind it, I pay attention. And so far, you have been doing an excellent job with your unique take on the concept. I particularly like how you seem to understand the sheer dramatic potential for this ship. A normal romance is hard enough, but a functional fourway is plain lunacy. And taking into account all the zaniness those four has gone through, there is no way the beta kids could end up together without some tears, fights, and screams involved. >:P

So, as a fanfic reader and writer myself, I hope you wouldn't mind if I gave you some ideas and feedback.  As the author you, of course, can freely ignore everything I will suggest. I'm just some dude who has a lot of free time and likes to overanalyze the stuff I like. :)

For the primary topic: John and how the other three are going to fit this tough cookie into the sexy batter. Wow, that metaphor sounds stupid but you know what I mean. >:I

I'm assuming two things: that the other three are already together in a threesome (ooh la la~) and that Dave, Rose, and Jade have some sort of plan in motion that they schemed up in the future event of acquiring John because the heir of breath will not make anything easy for them.

John is the least likely dude to appear in a foursome.

I think it's safe to say that John's childhood was the most traditional and conservative of all the kids – even compared to Jane's. He's a polite kid who is relatively innocent and separated from all things sex related, jacking off notwithstanding. As far as we know, the only time he has ever even kissed anyone was Rose's corpse on Skaia. So I really doubt he's gonna be super exited with the idea of a entering a fourway relationship. What would his father say if he did something like that? That is of course not mentioning all the mental and emotional hang ups he went through recently. So the other beta kids have a challenge in their hands. :I

If I were them, I would first attempt to have John only get involved with Rose. Of all the pairings with the king of derp, that is by far the safest and most 'tame'. Hell, even Karkat advocated this ship. They already like each other very much so it would hardly be painful or difficult to accomplish. And Grimdorks is also adorable as shit so that's another plus. :D

Now, after that though is when things get trickier since the only other two pairings is with a guy (John claims he is not a homosexual) and his fucking sister. :O

I propose that the knight of time goes second. They're already very close so all that's needed is the right nudges if you get my drift. >:]

 As you can probably imagine, this is a delicious source of drama just waiting to be used. John has strong feelings for Dave, that's kinda obvious. But is it romantic love? If it's not, can it evolve to romantic love? Does Dave even see John like that or does he have personal reservations we haven't seen yet? How will John react to the idea of spacetime? Will he consider his thoughts on the golden ship as an act of desperation or a hint of something more? Just how awesome will the Strider mating dance be? See, all good questions. :D

I'm sure you've got that ship fairly figured out by now so let's move on to the hardest ship of them all: prospitcest.

Personally, I think JohnXJade will be the hardest pairing to pull off successfully. Both John and Jade are stubborn, temperamental, and at the moment kinda miffed at each other. And they're siblings. I want to make it clear that I have no problems with prospitcest which I consider just as hot as dersecest. But their relation is going to mess up any initial attempts at romance here. Just saying. Even if they didn't know about their relation until the game started. John can't even fantasize about her without feeling some guilt afterwards. 

You might want to use the justification of ectobiology not counting as real blood relations as a possible excuse. But that doesn't change the fact that this pairing will be the most dramatic to complete - at least in my opinion. Just think of all the tensions involved! John will be bothered by the implications but what about Jade? Would it not matter to her too? Will her fiery temper mess things up before they even start? What would our seer and knight do to help light the fires of passion of such an 'l00d' pairing?

You appear to favor the idea of John and Jade having a relationship with some BDSM undertones. That's fine, but that opens even more drama doors. Will Jade always be the dom or do they switch roles to keep things fair? How open is John to all the strange kinks that Jade will probably have?

I could go on and on but I'll stop here for now. I will probably talk about the alpha kids part in all this chaos if I do this again but for now have a good day and happy writing! :)

    I am so sorry that I haven't been online lately- or ever really respond to anything on ao3, blargh-, but every time I see you comment on my fic, it puts a smile on my face, and seeing you in the inbox- which I have been neglecting because I haven't even been on tumblr, wow-, with such a glorious mass of thoughts on one of my favorite subjects, how could I not respond? I'll try not to let any spoilers slip in for what I'm planning on for Extraordinary- other then the fact that there will, in fact, eventually be a full on foursome, hot damn, bet none of y'all saw that coming- but you are giving me an opportunity to go on, at length, about one of my all time favorite pairings.  Quadrings?  Whatever.  Poly is great because I don't have to pick a favorite pairing, they're just all together and in love and happy and having great sex, what more can you ask for? Oh.  Fun interactions and occasional personality clashes which make a story interesting to actually read, I suppose.  You could ask for that.  Thank god BetaOT4 delievers that. It definitely is a strange one, when you stop and think about it.  Certain personalities do in fact clash, despite their friendship, and then sometimes they're far too similar, in all the wrong ways.  Dave and Rose could be beautiful and witty together, or they could literally tear each other apart with pretty, sharp, well placed words.  Well, on Rose's part, at least, not that Dave couldn't get down and dirty and just plain mean if he wanted to.  John and Jade, as we've all seen in the comics, get along quite well, but it's true that they can both be very loud, have very strong opinions, and if one of them decides not to back down, then things could get very messy, very quickly.  And yet, it seems to me, when they all get together, they balance and mesh in such an amazing way, and I can only pray that when it reaches that point in the story, I can describe what I see in my head accurately. But I shouldn't get ahead of myself here. You are definitely right, on all counts.  Dave, Rose, and Jade are definitely an item (mostly because everything Jade learned about relationships were from various medias and John and Davesprite and Trolls, and John is just a big stick in the mud, why would anyone get all worked up about who they want to be with, if you wanna fuck some people then you wanna fuck them, and if you love them you love them, why does everything have to be complicated, and she just kind of brings Dave and Rose along for the ride, because you learn not to argue with Jade.  Unless you're John).  They are definitely cooking up a scheme, and by they, I mean mostly our lovely ladies, because Dave's always been the kind to just go in head first and whatever happens happens. And you are definitely right when it comes to John.  Thoughts had in the dead of the night, at the peak of horniness is one thing,  actually acting upon them would be horrifying to him.  Because marriage, and morals, and tradition, and how would that even work with the many people???  Let's face it, the guy'll over think it all to hell. (Which is why he must be convinced by pushing him past his over active thought process.) It'll come as no surprise that it will, in fact, be Rose who slowly eases him into everything, starting with herself, and getting him used to the idea of multiple romantic partners.  They have a very close relationship already, where he trusts her, and she won't just coddle him, but give him her own firm pushes when she thinks it's necessary.  And she is the closest to a "normal" relationship that he could get. Dave is a little bit more complicated.  Even if we don't go on the whole John's not a homosexual thing, I don't see John being especially keen to get personally aquainted with another dude's dick.  Not at first, at least.  Because, wow, okay, I have one of those, but that's not mine, this is weird and not the social norm even though I don't actually have any problem with it, i feel awkward, i think i'm just going to go and hide instead of deal with this because dealing with things sucks. However, it's not just any dude's dick, it's Dave's dick, and absolutely nobody can deny that they mean a whole hell of a lot to each other.  Which brings along a whole 'nother kettle of fish, mostly revolving around "do i really want to risk fucking  up an already cracked relationship by bringing sex into the picture", a fear both of them suffer from because they're silly like that.  And Dave has his own sets of issues about everything that he's going to have to deal with, and it actually does involve goings on from The Three Years, both on the meteor and on the ship. (P.S, that mating dance is going to be totally freaking awesome, okay.  Like, hurt your throat from making obnoxious noises at your computer awesome.  Trust me.) But now we go and land ourselves in that ever sticky puddle that is Prospitcest, a highly underrated pairing if ever there was one.  They are close.  Very close.  In some ways closer to each other then they are to their beloved Dersites- which is only to be expected, all things considered, and both Dave and Rose share a similar sort of bond.  Things will undoubtedly need someone to be between them as a buffer of sorts until John can come to terms with the new life that he is living, and all the kickass relationships with it. There will definitely be shades of BDSM involved in that pairing in particular, but it won't be as serious as like, a lifestyle of it.  Jade won't put a collar on our Egbert and take him out for walks- though that would make a hell of a sight, wouldn't it?  John will roll with some things, and some others he will just flat out look at everyone like they're stupid, then turn around and walk his fine ass out to the kitchen and tell them to keep their depravity to themselves.  (I might actually have to make sure that shows up, because the mental image I just gave myself is hilarious).  But to be sure, there will never just be one person who is always dominant, or any who is always submissive.  The nice thing about multiple partners is that, chances are, there will always be at least one around who can be whatever you need them to be at the time.  So, yes, there will definitely be switching going on.  (Because, let's face it, John would just be a terrible sub if he had to do it all the time for any length of time.  He enjoys being a little shit way too much for that.  Nobody wants a sub that when you're tying them up, you look up and their wearing Beaglepuss glasses, alright?  Nobody wants that all the time.) The whole Dominance and Submission thing, as far as it's concerned for John, is not actually so much for his own sexual gratifaction, but more a way to bring himself a kind of psychological relief.  He'll get off on it and everything, physically, but it's far more mental for him then it will be for any of the others, and they might not even fully understand what exactly he gets out of it, but it doesn't matter because as long as it makes John happy, it makes them happy. And now that I have talked everyone's ears off, I'll stop before I go too far and just end up ranting over nothing and just repeating how much I just want my babies to kiss and make a fool of myself.  Feel free to stop by any time and talk about anything you want, Alphas most definitely included.  I don't think, in Extraordinary, I'll show a whole lot of the Alpha pairing, but I have a few half  sketched out scenes for them that I can make as stand alone fics, because they give me a lot of feelings, too, and just Okay, no, stopping now. If anyone else has anything they want to add, feel free.  I'm always up for a conversation about ships and armadas.  Or not even a conversation, if you don't want me to add my two cents, just take in your words with a contented, knowing nod of my head and such. Next chapter will be up on Humpday, guys.  So, tomorrow, yeah.

[indulgingfiction]

Ah, I figured I'd rather leave this here than on Ao3, but I just wanted to express my love for Extraordinary, and my absolute hope that it one day be continued! May life treat you well you wonderful author!

Never worry, darling devonaster, Extraordinary will be continued.  In fact, I have two and a half chapters already written down and ready to publish soon.  I’ve been going through some rough stuff irl, but I’m getting a second wind and am going to be getting off my lazy ass to do more stuff, and soon.  Including changing themes on my tumblr and straightening it up a little, making it easier to find things, blah blah blah.

I’m very happy that you’re enjoying the fic, and hope that I can continue with the quality that you’re expecting.

[indulgingfiction]

Unexpected Hiatus

Welp.  My laptop's charger broke, and with the last few hours it has left, I would like to inform you all that there is not going to be any activity for the next week or two.  Not too uncommon, I know, but this isn't actually just me trying to write fifty things at once and then not being able to finish anything because too much is going on, but is something that is actually out of my control.

That being said, I'm going to use this time away from the internet productively, by doing even more writing.  Old fashioned style, by hand, to type up later.

I'll see you guys on the other side, with at least two more chapters of Extraordinary, most likely another JohnDave, and a handful of other things, involving our beloved trolls.

Much love, everyone.

[indulgingfiction]

Auf Deutsch

[indulgingfiction]

Bruises

I dunno, wrote his down kinda quick while I was in a mood.  Might make a story out of it, if I get the inspiration.  I've just seen a lot of fics that involve cutting and stuff, and I've never had any experiences with that, but I do know that there are more ways to hurt oneself then cutting oneself open.  And my John muse, to me, seems like the kind who would go this route.

It's not detailed, or anything, and the trigger warning are mostly for precaution, so don't let them scare you off.

---

Your name is John Egbert, and you do not have a problem.

Sure, when you were younger, whenever you’d get a bruise, you’d sit down and poke at it. Softly at first, and then harder, and harder. But it wasn’t because you enjoyed the pain, no, of course not. You just wanted to see if it still hurt.

  Usually it did.

  Sometimes, it didn’t.

  So if at some point, one time a bruise on your arm, green and yellow, on it’s way to healing, wasn’t hurting anymore, and you slammed your arm, the spring colored bruise, against the corner of the wall, well, you weren’t being weird. Because your bruise hurt again when you poked it. And that was normal.

  Bruises are supposed to hurt.

  Duh.

  Your name is John Egbert, and even though most everyone you meet thinks that you’re just a really nice, swell guy, you’ve got a bit of a temper. Maybe a lot of a temper when you don’t have a chance to talk to your best friend. Dave’s great at diffusing it. Wonderful at cooling you down, not even aware that he’s doing it with some stupid ramble about puppets or planets or even just trying to convince you that he’s actually a cool dude when he’s so obviously just a big, lovable dork. He’s probably the best there is at it. Actually, no, not probably. No doubt about it, he’s the best. Not even Rose, or Jade, or Dad could help the way he did.

  But Dave lives in Texas, which might as well be on Pluto for all the good that does you, sometimes. And sometimes, when you really need him to be there, to make you laugh, to help you breath, to take the red out of your vision and into his own eyes, well.

  He’s not there.

  He can’t be.

  You don’t blame him, though. No, really, you don’t. You love Dave. It’s not his fault he lives too far away.

  You just wished that there was a better way then getting so angry that you literally pass out.

  Thank God that only happened at school, once. Some stupid asshole in class just wouldn’t shut while the teacher was talking, while the teacher told them to shut up so that they could get some work done, when the teacher threatened to just fucking leave the room, and you turned around and your chair so fast you could feel a muscle in your side twinge(pain, yes, but it felt good, you weren’t angry for a second there, but then you say, heard, the stupid kid run his stupid mouth like a stupid fuck), and you screamed. You screamed for so loud, and so long, you literally had nothing left to scream with, your vision went from red to black, and when you could see, breath again, you were in the School Nurse’s room, with you counselor sitting next to where you lay on that uncomfortable, plastic settee.

  Your counselor said that everyone had become quiet, afterwards, after the screaming. And she said that while the end result was okay, that really wasn’t a productive way to go about it.

  She asked if you’d like to talk, if there was something on your mind, if everything was okay.

  You said yes, of course, everything’s fine. Because she wasn’t as good at getting stuff out of you as Rose, and she didn’t just seem to magically know like Jade, and the short, average, brown haired brown eyed little lady, nice as she was, was certainly no Dave.

  You said you were fine, because you were. There was nothing wrong with you, you just get a little angry sometimes.

  That was in Middle School. And it was funny, because you became known as The Screamer, for a while. Everyone treated you with kid gloves, for a bit. And then, as children tended to do, they moved on. Something new happened to catch their attention, and he was still John Screamer Egbert, but it was a bit of a joke, more then anything infamous. Just silly.

  John Screambert.

  Funny stuff.

  But then High School came around, and you learned a lot of things.

  You learned most people forgive you pretty easily, for even your worst pranks. Maybe it’s because you look up at them with sad, watery blue eyes, which according to half a dozen people or so are irresistible. Maybe it’s because you just don’t look like a threat, small, pudgy John who even after his growth spurt still managed to not break five foot five. Maybe it was because you always apologized if someone took one of your pranks the wrong way, because they’re not actually(usually) supposed to be mean spirited. It’s only a joke if most of the people are laughing, right? But not everybody.

  That was another thing you learned. You just can’t make everyone laugh. There are some people that just don’t like you. Maybe it’s your eyes, your teeth, your laugh, your sense of humor. You don’t know what, or why, or how, and you don’t really care. They didn’t bother you. Sometimes you’d just hear a muttered word, directed at your back. Sometimes you’d see a glare, out of the corner of your eye.

  But that’s all it was. Quiet stuff, barely in your peripheral vision. It was annoying as fuck. You wished, sometimes, that they’d just be upfront about it. If they wanted to make fun of you, they should do it to your face. If they want to beat you up, they should just stop being a bunch of pussies and do it already. If they want to be bullies, just man the fuck up and get to it.

  But real life doesn’t work that way, and just because you look like bully bait, and sound like bully bait, doesn’t mean that you’re going to get more then a few condescending comments thrown your way.

  Most people just weren’t willing to take that first step.

  Sometimes, you learned, you have to take that step yourself.

  It wasn’t like it was your intention, to get more attention, to get some people to think that maybe you needed some fists thrown your way as well as insults. You were just coming to the rescue of some girl. You didn’t even know her, don’t even know her now, but you know that some guy had just called her a very ugly name. A name that you wouldn’t use on even the BatterBitch in even your foulest of moods.

  You didn’t think, didn’t even hesitate. You dropped your backpack in the middle of the hallway, pivoted neatly on the balls of your feet until you were facing the opposite direction, and took three big steps. Three big steps as you wound your right hand back, pulled into a fist, and then you grabbed onto the punk’s shoulder, reaching up, fuck he was tall, and swung him around. He didn’t even have a chance to ask what was happening before you punched him right in his fragile looking jaw.

  One would think that, with the leader down, his followers would crumble and flee, but those two bozos were surprisingly loyal, and surprisingly fast with their fists.

  The fight didn’t last long, before some teachers came out and broke it up, but before it was over, you’d gotten and given a fair number of dark, stinging bruises, and your lip was busted against your teeth, the taste of copper overwhelming your tongue, and most of your body just felt like one giant, throbbing, hot red pain.

  The guy that you gave a black eye called you a freak, because you were smiling, despite that.

  You just laughed.

  Your name is John Egbert, and when your physical body aches, you feel good. You feel alive.

  You don’t cut yourself. You don’t choke yourself. You don’t scratch yourself. You don’t have a problem.

  You just end up in a surprising amount of fights for someone who looks as happy-go-lucky and little as you do. And maybe, sometimes, when there’s a long time in between fights, you throw yourself up against walls until your back, or your side, is black and blue.

  But you don’t have a problem.

  You just get bruises. And sometimes, you like to poke at them, to see if they still hurt. 

[indulgingfiction]

Extraordinary; Chapter 7

I meant to get this out earlier, but instead I ended up moving a queen sized mattress all by myself.  I like to imagine that I'm relatively strong, but let me tell you, I'm still freaking pooped after that...  Blargh, life.

Time seemed to slow down to a trickle again, but John was okay with that, cocooned in warmth and soft curves and hard angles and the scent of lilacs and chemicals and coffee and memories, a sense of rightness. He remembered the first time he’d felt that way, back in he laboratory on his land, surrounded by baby versions of his friends, and tiny young ecto-parents/children. He hadn’t even known what he’d done, he significance of it all, but seeing his friends, tiny and vulnerable but right there, was the first time he’d ever felt that bit of contentedness in the back of his mind, subtle though it was. The first hint that he’d been missing something his entire life, brought to the forefront when they were all together again, grown up beyond their age.

He realized that he was only complete when he was with the rest of them, they were made to be together- which made him wonder, later, how he trolls could have stood to kill each other off, because just the thought of losing Jade or Rose or Dave to death, real death, forever death killed him inside-, and it had hurt so much, forcibly separating himself from them, amputating a dead limb before it could infect the rest of the body. I had hurt so much that he hadn’t really felt the pain. He knew it was there, he could feel a dull ache, but it was distant. Buried. Covered, like he was in shock, his brain unable to process what he’d managed to do.

Or didn’t want to. He supposed that would make sense, too, his subconscious protecting his brain, knowing that he couldn’t actually handle what he’d done, and he just hadn’t realized it until then, forgotten that he’d been in pain until suddenly his soul wasn’t hurting anymore. He had plenty of practice at it, after all.

He tried not to dwell on it, though. There was time for that, later, when his friends weren’t around to see him have a breakdown. Or, more of a breakdown.

But, of course, life didn’t cater to his whims, and after what felt like only a few moments (lifetimes), he felt Rose shifting at his side, sitting up slightly, and he cracked an eye open to watch her make a move to reach into her sylladex.

“I know it’s a tad late, now, but we did get you a sort of birthday present- John?”

Birthday had barely even left Rose’s dark painted lips before he was twisting, turning, bucking, eyes wide but unseeing as he tried to get them off, off of him, away from him, a once comfortable pile suddenly turned into a suffocating prison. He didn’t want a fucking present, he’d been hoping, praying that some miracle could have happened and they would have forgotten all about that damn date, he wasn’t going to be fucking gifted because he accidentally made everyone out of weird ass ooze on a certain day. He wasn’t going to be rewarded for not only destroying their entire planet, but for making their guardians, the ones that raised, that had cared for them, that had loved them become perma-dead. A drink for the fallen, for the lost, that was all that he allowed himself on that day, because there sure as hell wasn’t anything to celebrate!

Rose stopped reaching, instead twisting back around to take a hold of one of John’s shoulders, putting more of her weight on it then she would have liked, but he was a lot stronger then he looked, and she was worried hat should she let him go, he’d do something drastic and hurt himself. Jade followed her lead, and presses down on his chest, trying to keep his torso down, even as Dave shifted, holding his legs together, keeping him from kicking even as he held him in place. It all should have kept him still, if not the brute physical strength then the concern lacing the faces of those closest to him, dripping from their voices as they called his name, John, John, John!

John, what’s wrong?

John, please, stop!

John, bro, what did you do to yourself?

But he doesn’t stop, gritting his teeth and thrashing until his shoulders ached, his back burned, because he was right, he’d been right all along, he couldn’t bring anything but pain to everyone, God he hadn’t even been in their presence for even half a day and he was already stressing them out.

“I can’t do this, I can’t Do this, let me go, let me GO!!!” His voice was high, cracking, hysterical, even John could hear that, hear his breath catching and heaving until he could barely get any air at all, everything was dark and heavy and stifling and he couldn’t, he just couldn’t, please!

“Rose, he’s fucking panicking, do something,” Dave hissed as he shifted again, straddling John’s legs, sitting on his thighs so he could keep them still even as he grabbed onto his waist, holding on as well as he could.

“John, breath, please. We have you, we’re right here, you’re fine, I promise, everything’s okay!” Jade laid her forearm across his shoulder and a bit of his chest, holding herself up and him down on I, leaving her other hand free to run through his hair, something he recognized as a comforting act.

But he was beyond comforting at that point.

“It’s not, no, it’s Not okay! It’s never Been okay, and it never Will be!” He could feel his mouth opening, his tongue moving, his throat working to get out words, bu he couldn’t actually hear, his ears buzzing, the sound of his blood rushing overwhelming everything else, and he couldn’t think, couldn’t think of anything but how he didn’t wanna be there anymore. “Why won’t you just let me go, just let me be, please, please I’m fucking everything up why couldn’t you have just let me die in damned peac-fhah!”

His head snapped to the side, and it took him a second to process he way his cheek was burning, stinging. The shock of the sudden pain, in his cheek, in his neck, brings almost blinding clarity, and he hears a growl- Jade, he knows that sound, is intimately familiar with it, and it’s not a sound he ever wants to hear, because it means she’s pissed- and Rose is talking, hissing through her teeth like she doesn’t trust herself to stay quiet otherwise.

“...and after everything we’ve managed to live through, there is no way in hell that we would just sit by and allow you to waste yourself, and I know, Egbert, that you aren’t even nearly stupid enough to believe that we would. So why don’t you stop acting like a child and actually utilize the fully functioning gray matter between your ears like the adult you are?”

Watery blue eyes slowly glanced at Rose, and a quiet voice in the back of John’s head noted that she looked magnificent when she was pissed, pale cheeks flushed with color, amethyst eyes as sharp as her tongue, back stiff, and even with her hair mused- so strange, so different without her headband, she looks so grown up, she is grown up-, she looks regal, in charge. But he barely listens to what she says, picking up the tone, a few words here and there. He’s really not aware of much at all, just that he was limp, still, and that he deserved Rose tearing him a new one. And Jade growling. He deserved that, too.

And the slap. He deserved that slap, and more.

He’d thought about that, before. About how he wished someone would just come around and beat the shit out of him, for everything he’d done, for everything he caused. It wasn’t a thought that he let himself dwell on, but it was always there, in the back of his mind, and for the first time, the thought was humored. And by one of his best friends, no less. Rose. Maybe it started to make up for things, a little. Make up a bit for all of those times that she tried to talk to him, tried to tell him things, and he just laughed her off, geez rose your blabbering monster speech sure is funny isn’t it, why don’t we try a game of charades instead? Make up for her having to find her mother, dead, and his father too, because he’d been too busy going out and having a joyride to come and save them. Make up for the fact that he couldn’t save her, either, when the time came for that.

Despite the thoughts running through his head, John felt... light. Relieved. Better then he had in five, no, eight. Eight years. Since he was thirteen, and didn’t actually know what loss was, when the biggest worry on his mind was how he was going to manage to burn off his baby fat when Dad kept insisting that he eat three cakes a day.

And then there was a hand, on his cheek, a thumb smearing something wet, and he realized that he was crying. And he began to sob.

He started to apologize, in his head, maybe out his mouth, he couldn’t tell, all he knew was that he was sorry, so very sorry, for everything, sorry to Rose, sorry to Dave, sorry to Jade, until he couldn’t even think that anymore, and he was blessedly embraced by unconsciousness.

[indulgingfiction]

Extraordinary; Chapter 6

Here's chapter six, loves.  And here's chapter six's mirror on ao3.

[indulgingfiction]

Extraordinary; Chapter 5

[binart]

my favourite kind of fics are fics where john egbert is in severe physical and/or emotional pain ovo like this one!!

[indulgingfiction]

So, here I was, early in the morning, working on the next chapter of Extraordinary when I had the sudden urge to go and skim through my dashboard.  And what do I see, but this sweet little John, looking like my alltime favorite headcanon of John being the fedora'd wanderer who has panic attacks whenever someone calls his name, and thought, 'Oh wow holy shit, how cool is this someone understands my love for wayward Johns'.

And then I notice that it's Miss Bina's art, and I started squealing, because hot damn!

AND THEN I SEE THAT IT'S FROM MY FREAKING FANFICTION!

BINART DREW MY JOHN JUST THE WAY I PICTURED HIM!

I'M UPLOADING THE NEXT CHAPTER NOW, AND I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY, BECAUSE IT WAS HARD TO FINISH WHEN EVERY FIVE MINUTES I HAVE TO STOP BECAUSE I'M CRYING AND LAUGHING AND CRYING.

[indulgingfiction]

Cashing It In Before Twenty Seven

This is an idea that was stuck in my head for a while.  I dunno, maybe it's kinda dumb, but it feels a little bit therapeutic to write it out.  Also, first SolKat fic here, Whooo!!!!

Link Here to the Archived version, should you be wish to see it there.

There were not many things that Karkat Vantas could say he enjoyed, right off the top of his head.  He could acknowledge that he was a pretty grumpy kind of guy, though he would also be quick to remind anyone within ear shot that it was because he was constantly surrounded by a group of morons all the fucking time.  For all of his foul tempers, though, there was always something that could bring a smile to his face. Movie Night. It didn’t matter who it was with, or what they were watching.  He held Pan night with Tavros and Ugly, Sweaty Actors in Shitty Action Flicks in the same high regard as he did Military and/or Fantasy of the Wizarding variety movies with Eridan and (Spaghetti) Westerns with Nepeta and Equius.  If you were a friend with Karkat, then you watched movies with him. It wasn’t that he enjoyed all movies.  Most Disney movies drove him absolutely bug nuts with their idealist drivel( or had him sobbing into his pillow, which he would Never allow any one to see), and cookie cutter action plots( *coughcoughIndianJonesoranyJamesBondfuckingTerminatormoviescoughcough*) bored him to tears.  Chick flicks and Dramas were always a danger of making him fall asleep( or cry, okay, he had a tendency of getting emotionally attached to stupid characters but that was what he was Supposed to do he is completely Normal, shut the fuck up).  But what you enjoy watching, and how you watch them, tells a lot about a person.  And by watching movies with his friends, it allowed Karkat insights that could probably have taken years to dig up all on himself. If nothing else, it had taught him to never get on sweet princess Feferi’s bad side.  She paid way too much attention to her horror movies, and was disquietingly skilled with a knife. But his favorite Movie Nights were the ones that he spent with his best friend, one equally curmudgeonly Sollux Captor. Sollux wasn’t a big movie watcher.  Or television watcher, for that matter.  Or even a reader.  Not that he couldn’t enjoy any of those things- the nerd did have a bit of a fondness for Bladerunner and Farscape, and they could bond pretty well over Firefly.  It was just that, usually, if you gave him the choice between being on his computer(s) and playing video games, or the option to do pretty much anything else, electronics won pretty much every time. Which was probably why Karkat loved watching movies with him the most.  It was little concessions, the way he’d occasionally go out of his way just to do something for his small friend that really just solidified their friendship in ways that awkwardly muttered words never could.  It was just a time for them to relax, take a break from the rest of the world, and just bask in some nonjudgmental quality time of being near each other without snarking- too much, at least. That kind of atmosphere was what lead to Karkat’s guard to be down enough to talk about a movie he’d recently watched, and for Sollux to respond in a way that he never would have expected in a million years. “Forty Year Old Virgin?  Heh, Jethuth.  Do me a favor, KK, and if I make it to twentytheven without lothing the V-card, jutht put me out of my mithery and kill me?” Karkat didn’t respond, at first, driven to speechlessness.  Which was not, actually, all that uncommon of a thing to happen.  The pause when he’s talking via some kind of instant messenger wasn’t as noticeable, easily disguised as him just writing a novel of insults or disbelief in large, gray caps.  In real life, though, the way the gears worked in his head to process what he heard, the way his mouth would work, chapped lips moving slightly, mouthing the words he was trying to string together before finally, finally his brows would furrow, his verbal course set, could never be mistaken for anything but being driven to a complete loss of words. “You’re a virgin.”  Just by tone, it was a statement, repeating the conclusion that his brain came to after translating the half Italian’s lisp, but his eyes were wide, surprised, looking for any sign that he heard him wrong, or that Sollux was just pulling his leg. The tall, lanky man didn’t even bother trying to look embarrassed, smirking toothily, cockily, the smarmy bastard. “Did I thutter?” “You’re a virgin.  As in, you haven’t had the full sex.” “Wow, I didn’t think it wath pothible, but you made yourthelf thound like even more of a douthe then uthual.  Do uth all a favor, and never thay ‘the full theckth’ ever again, yeah?” “As in never once,” Karkat continued, as if he’d never been interrupted in the first place.  “Not with Aradia.  Not with Feferi.” Even behind his absolutely( endearingly) ridiculous two-toned sunglasses, in the relative dark of his best friend’s living/entertainment room, Karkat could see his odd colored eyes rolling. “I actually got further with TZ the I did with either of them.”  Then it was Karkat’s turn to wince.  His close friend/longtime crush/ex-quasi-ocassionally something like a girlfriend was still, and honestly probably always would be a bit of a sore spot with him, even with Sollux.  Maybe especially with Sollux, who he’d always had another set of special feelings set aside for; a soft, squishy, vulnerable spot on his heart with his ridiculous name branded all over it.  “Jeeth, KK, and here i thought you’d be eckthatic that we would have thith in common.” “In... common?”  And Karkat, so distracted by trying to believe the fact that Sollux Captor, ladies man extraordinaire( pffft) had somehow managed to go his entire life without getting his dick wet, ended up admitting something that he hadn’t told anyone but Kanaya about for years. “But, I’m not a virgin.” There was a long, awkward moment where they just sat there, on their respected sides of Sollux’s beat up old couch, both speechless and shocked, before the taller one spat out a long, imaginative curse, actually pouting as he shifted, trying to shove his fingers in his pocket, to pull out his phone. “Ugh!  That bitch; we promithed!  We pinky thwore!” “What?  What?  Bitch?  Promised?  What the actual fuck are you going on about?”  He recoiled a bit from the sudden spastic movements of Sollux, from the frustration in his voice, but was unable to quell his own curiosity. “Terezi!” he snapped, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, getting into his pocket, only to find not his cell, but a few crumpled sticky notes from earlier that day.  “We thwore that the firtht  one of uth to get in your high waithted panth would tell the other all about it!  In eckcruthiating detail at least, or thow the other a video of it!  And the cackling witch held out on me!” Giving up on the search for his phone, he slumped back against the arm of his couch, looking petulant and put upon. ”...The fuck?  Of all the rancid, semi-liquid, half digested horse shit that has ever spewed out of the snaggled tooth gutterhole you call a mouth, that is the most imbecilic drivel I have ever heard.  And I am a fucking connoisseur of barnyard diarrhea.  My ears have only the finest fucking palette for- Jesus fucking Christ on a Donkey, I’ve never had sex with Terezi!”  His tone and hands rose higher as he continued, gesticulating harshly until the end, just letting his hands fall down, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring indignantly at the television, the long forgotten movie rolling through it’s credits. It was Sollux’s turn to be momentarily struck speechless, and under any other circumstances, Karkat would be crowing, grabbing the nearest available calender and writing a note down on the date to remember it in infamy as a day that Sollux Captor did not have a shitty retort right off the tip of his tongue, as he’d done the past seven times it had happened in the decade that he’d known the guy.  But he was too... pissed wasn’t the right word for it, if only because he hadn’t had enough time to really soak in the fact that two of his closest friends had made fucking plans on what they would do if either of them fucked him, and dammit, what he did in bed( or on the couch or in the shower or against a wall) was between him and that person he was in bed ( couch/shower/wall) with, and absolutely no one else’s business.  But he was definitely on the far side of annoyed. Which his friend must have seen, because it was a much more hesitant and subdued Sollux that asked him, “Tho... who was it?” The soft tone was the only thing that kept Karkat from snapping at him, and shit, sometimes he was just too nice of a guy.  “You seriously wouldn’t believe me, even if I told you.” Karkat didn’t want to be softened, but his words had obviously started Sollux thinking, and fuck it all, his thinking face had always been endearing.  It was the same exact expression he’d had as a kid: brows furrowed slightly, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the left side of his mouth, a quiet hum in his throat mimicking the wheels turning in his head. “EQ...?” “E... who?  You mean- Equius?  Good God!  You seriously think he’d stop daydreaming about getting balls deep in his high horse long enough to do more then awkwardly demand that I flirt with him?  Let alone that he’d stoop to fuck with me, of all people!?” “How the fuck thould I know?  I can’t think of any one elthe you’d keep a thecret from me, and wouldn’t have bragged about it to everyone elth themthelf.” “I didn’t- it wasn’t a secret,” Karkat sputtered, blinking dark auburn eyes, more then a little surprised at the tone of Sollux’s voice, the way his voice came out sounding like an accusation.  “It was just...  There was just never anything to say about it.” “Bullthit, Karkat.  There’th no way a Bleeding Heart like you doethn’t have /thomething/ to that about hith firtht time.  At leatht tell me who it wath with?”  There was a pause, before he added in a softer tone, “Pleathe?” Karkat hesitated for a moment, and made the mistake of glancing at Sollux’s face.  For such an insufferable dickweed, he was damn good at making sad puppy dog eyes. “Holy balls...” Karkat grunted, raising his hands up as a signal of surrender, because really, it wasn’t worth getting into a fight over, when it came right down to it. “It was Gamzee.” “Makara!?  You got down with the fucking Clown and you never told me!?”  Sollux started to laugh, not even his usual hissing little sniggers, but full on, shoulder shaking belly laughs, only laughing even harder when Karkat growled, grabbed the pillow he’d been leaning against, and threw it at his face. “Go ahead and laugh, Virgin.  At least I got some ass!” The pillow was tossed back at him, which he managed to block, only to get tackled by a skinny sack of bones and sharp angles and best friendness, which wasn’t nearly as easy to fend off. “Wath it that bad?” he lisped practically in Karkat’s ear as he shifted, wrapping his long bony frame around Karkat’s stocky one, too many slippery limbs for the smaller man to be able to successfully remove.  Not that he actually wanted to, despite the fact that he was more then a little annoyed with the guy, and the fact that he wasn’t exactly comfortable, all knees and elbows and pointy bits.  He was warm- his metabolism made him like a space heater even at his coldest-, and, well, even though he’d never say it out loud, Karkat liked cuddles.  Any cuddles.  All the cuddles he could get, whenever he could get them, especially if he didn’t have to ask for them. But he didn’t have to behave like he liked it, pouting and frowning and turning his head away, even as he shifted to get more comfortable beside and under his friend.  “No, it wasn’t bad.  It was just-“ It was okay.  Not exactly the words Karkat ever thought he’d ever associate to his first time.  It was still better then being terrible, but... it was just okay.  Gamzee hadn’t hurt him, had actually been surprisingly gentle when he’d touched him, stretched him, penetrated him.  Sure, Karkat hadn’t gotten off, but that was alright, because Gamzee had, and it had hurt at first but then it felt pretty good to be all filled up.  Not, like, orgasmically good, but comfortingly good.  Like, good to know that somebody liked him enough to want to do that with him.  Like, good to be that connected to somebody else in such a fundamentally physical kind of way. So what if Gamzee had always fallen asleep right afterwards, from the first time to the last, without so much as more then a pat on the back, or a high five, good job on the sex motherfucker.  No kisses, no cuddles, no aftercare, leaving Karkat to finish himself off with his hand, when he felt like getting off afterwards, because he’d never been able to cum with Gamzee inside of him, too overwhelmed with the feeling of being stretched to get past it into orgasm, no matter how good it might have felt. It was alright, because Karkat hadn’t been expecting anything else.  They weren’t doing it out of love.  Gamzee didn’t like Karkat that way, and Karkat certainly didn’t feel anything more then friendship for him.  It had been a purely physical transaction.  Friends with benefits.  Fuck buddies.  And it was “Alright.  It was alright.” And that, really, was all there was to say on the matter. “Fuck.”  It was quiet, a harsh whisper that Karkat almost wasn’t sure that he’d heard, at first, except that suddenly his head was being grabbed by long, spindly fingers, pressing his face into the thin crook of Sollux’s neck, his prominent collarbone making itself known against Karkat’s chin.  “It literally phythically painth me to thee Mithter Romcom taking thith tho calmly.  You’re breaking my fucking heart, KK.” “Oh my god, do you really have to add drama to everything?  It was fine.  I enjoyed it.  And I don’t see how this could possibly effect you.”  But it was surprisingly sweet, that Sollux would worry about him like that, made him feel kind of warm and fuzzy, and he was glad for his friends melodramatics, since it meant that his face was hidden, and so was the way his dusky cheeks were starting to heat up. “But you’re not thuppothed to fucking be fine with it, KK.  You’re thuppothed to have thome magical, fairytale firtht time, with the printhe or printheth of your choithe thweeping you off your thtubby little feet.”  And what he said would have been insulting, if Sollux hadn’t been so adamant about it, tone low and limbs tightening around Karkat, fingers tightening in his hair.  It was nice to hear the guy actually gave that many shits about him, especially when they went out of their way so often to not actually admit anything of the sort out loud.  “Why would you even agree to it, if it wath jutht going to be ‘okay’?” “Because- hold up for a second, this is really fucking uncomfortable,” he grunted, shimmying and shifting, and poking rather hard at vulnerable sides until Sollux loosened his grip enough that Karkat could roll onto his side, facing his lanky friend without getting a crook in his neck in the process.  “Because he said he wanted to.  Wanted... you know,” he faltered, glancing away, suddenly feeling shy, because, wow, this was not actually a conversation he ever thought he’d actually be having with Sollux, of all people, ”...me?” He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but a tsk, and the sudden feel of a forehead being pressed against his own, cutting off his sight from anything but  a slightly blurry picture of Sollux’s slightly annoyed expression wasn’t it.  In fact, he really wasn’t expecting any kind of reaction, because as far as he was concerned, there was nothing to have a reaction about. “Tho, you’d do anyone who athked nithe enough?” Karkat gaped at him for half a moment, before snarling right in his best friends face, because how dare he go from sweetly concerned to shitlord in two seconds flat.  Really, one would think he’d be used to it by now, but sometimes it was just too personal to let go. “Ex-fucking-cuse you?  First of all, I’m not some kind of slut; I /do/ have some standards, fucking thank you.  And secondly, even if I did, it’s not exactly any of your business, now is it?  Maybe some of us actually appreciate the feeling of being wanted every once in a while, yeah?  I know that’ a difficult concept for you to understand.  But who the hell are you to judge me on what I happen to do with others, anyway, huh?  You stupid fu-“ His rant was cut short, Sollux pressing his hand hard against his mouth, almost too hard, slightly painfully, though he knew it was only because Sollux had learned from experience that if he gave Karkat half a chance, he’d either lick him, or bite him, which was why he had a habit of holding on so hard Karkat couldn’t open his mouth at all. “Thut your fathe for two thecondth, Karkat; you’re tharting to thound like your brother, and that’th really fucking creepy.  I’m thorry, alright?  You’re right, it’th none of my buthineth who you fuck around with.  I jutht, it kind of pitheth me off that you feel tho unappreciated, that you’d- ugh.  Lithten.  All I wanna thay ith, if that’th the way it ith, then you thould at least enjoy the act of it more then jutht thaying it’th ‘okay’.  You thould get together with thomeone who’d make it the betht for you.” Karkat wanted to roll his eyes, to tell Sollux to fuck off, everything was fine, except... it sounded really great.  Maybe a bit unrealistic, but great.  And fuck if that wasn’t the same kind of thing that he wanted for Sollux, because, douche though he was, he deserved the best.  At least, he deserved to have a damn good first time.  If only he could make sure that he did. A second after the thought crossed Karkat’s mind, his eyes went wide, and he was grabbing onto Sollux’s wrist to try and pull his hand away, thin and delicate and almost dainty, something he’d be afraid of breaking with an ill-placed breath, if not for the wiry strength he could practically feel pulsing underneath his skin.  “Sollucks.  Bro.  Lemm’ go,” he demanded as best as he could with half of his mouth still covered which, admittedly, wasn’t really all that well at all, but worked well enough for his cause since, after only a second or so of hesitation, Sollux did remove his hand from his mouth- though he kept his other against the back of Karkat’s head, and threw his leg halfheartedly over Karkat’s smaller frame, keeping him pinned,  just for good measure. ”...What?”  The question wasn’t quite dripping with suspicion, but was just paranoid enough that Karkat couldn’t help but snort, even as he pushed himself forward, closer, lifting his head until he could slant his lips up against Sollux’s own slightly chapped ones, closing his eyes to savor the way they felt a little rough under his own, since he couldn’t exactly savor the way his bespectacled friend was too surprised to respond.  And when he parted his lips, deepening the kiss, he couldn’t help but notice a slight after taste of honey, which was just so fitting, Karkat couldn’t help but chuckle a little, right against Sollux’s prone mouth. The dirty blonde haired man pulled back almost immediately at the laughter, spluttering and trying to untangle his limbs from around Karkat’s much smaller form, but his movements were awkward, like his brain wasn’t sending out commands to his limbs quite right, like it was distracted by something else.  Karkat was torn between finding the awkward movements kind of adorable, or just plain pathetic.  Mentally, he shrugged it off, and shifted with his friend, helping him along a little by pushing on his shoulder, rolling him onto his back, leaving Karkat room to straddle himself on his hips, quite content to just sit there until Sollux was done freaking out.  Maybe even a bit longer then that, if the twitching he felt against the curve of his ass meant anything. “Theriouthly!  What the Fuck, Karkat?  What do you, what even- What are you doing!?” Karkat grunted, leaning down over Sollux’s skinny frame, arms resting on either side of his bony chest.  “I know you don’t have the strongest eyesight, but even you should be able to see what’s going on.  So how about you stop your blabbering, and actually put that mouth of yours to good use, huh?” He didn’t give him a chance to argue, reaching one hand up to wrap around the back of a long neck, pulling him insistently, pleased when he only put up a very weak token of resistance before going in for his own kiss. It wasn’t exactly the most skilled thing that Karkat had ever participated in, a lot more enthusiastic then anything, teeth pinching lips and noses bumping a little awkwardly, but it was nice.  Different from the way Gamzee’s was always either slow and lazy and really pretty sloppy, or hard and fast and almost violent.  It seemed a bit more personal, like a special kiss that would only be shared between them, no matter who they might go and kiss later.  That special little snicker Sollux made as Karkat hissed out from a particularly sharp pain as his bottom lip got caught between teeth.  The way, when Karkat pulled away, licking said lip to try and soothe the sting, there was a not so subtle aftertaste of something that seemed an awful lot like honey.  The way Sollux actually made a kind of  hiccuping sound when he speared his tongue inside the wet cavern of his mouth, flicking up against his hard pallet teasingly soft. It was nice, it was great, it was quite possibly the best kiss he’d ever had, but it was also scary.  Karkat was afraid if he thought too much about it, he’d find out it was too good to be true.  So he didn’t let himself over think it, didn’t really let himself think about it at all, shifting and moving on to the next movement, the next step, the next task.  It was simple enough to tilt his head, drag his lips from mouth to sharp jawline, licking and sucking at the soft patch of skin underneath Sollux’s ear.  Nothing he had to think too hard about, easy to get lost in the scratchy feel of patchy stubble growing in, the light taste of salt on his skin, the heady musk that was just so inherently male it was enough to make his legs feel weak.  So different from the scent of a woman, so similar to how he knew that he himself smelled, even though he couldn’t detect it on his own skin. Maybe, if he did well enough, Sollux would be willing to play with him again, because damn, he could easily get addicted to the way he tasted and felt and smelled and just was. “Fuck...! Kar-nghmph!”  Sollux bit his lips, and if that wasn’t just the most adorable thing he’d ever seen the guy do, trying to keep his own voice down as Karkat worked his way down his throat, teasing the skin there with his teeth, soothing over with broad strokes of his tongue, Karkat would eat one of Aradia’s grubby old hats.  It was cute, and it was something to hold over him, later, because it was the first time ever that Sollux actually ended up being louder then Karkat during something.  God, it was going to be fun to tease him about it. It was with great reluctance that he pulled away- though not before leaving a nice, dark bruise, right at the base of Sollux’s long scrawny neck, which he knew he shouldn’t have left, but he just couldn’t help himself-, proud that he only sounded a little bit breathless as he pushed himself up to a sitting position.  “Captor.  Where do you keep your lotion?” ”...What?”  Loti- what do you need lotion fo-”  It took him a little bit longer to catch onto what Karkat was saying, and when he finally did, his face lit up in a blush, though whether it was because of the insinuation, or because it took so long for him to get it was unknown.  “Moving a little fatht, aren’t you, KK?” Instead of arguing, Karkat decided to take the much more pleasurable route, and circled his hips down, grinding against the prominent bulge inside of Sollux’s shorts and drifting a hand down across his thin chest, raking his nails across his thin shirt, smirking a little smugly when his friend wasn’t able to hold back a moan, long and low and throaty. “You’re not going to last long, man.  And neither am I.  So I’d like to get to the good part before you blow your load in your pants, if you don’t mind.” “Ecks- exckthcuthe the fuck outta you,” was grumbled back, but it didn’t even manage to sound very threatening when Sollux  was panting, hips bucking up in an uncharacteristically needy manner.  Karkat, for once, had him right where he wanted him, and they both knew it.  “Thecond bottom drawer on the left of the right motht dethck in my room.” Karkat rolled his eyes, but pushed himself up so he could roll off, shimmying his way out of long, grasping hands.  “Chill for a second there, Casanova.  If you’re really that eager, make sure you’re undressed by the time I get back.”  Feeling particularly cheeky and proud of himself, he even threw Sollux a wink over his shoulder as he managed to not trip his way into a room he knew almost as well as his own.    He’d be beyond annoyed at himself for it later, for hamming it up so much, but right then, he was feeling pretty damn good about everything.  Hell, he even managed to find Sollux’s lotion stash easily, despite the ridiculous directions he’d been given to find it. And when he made his way back to the living room, Sollux was sitting on the couch, shirt and glasses already off, hair a mess between Karkat’s earlier ministrations and the obvious struggle he had with his shirt, if the distance he threw it across the room was anything to go by, working furiously on getting the zipper of his pants undone, fingers actually fumbling with the metal, hissing out quiet curses. Karkat was hit with the vague sense that things were going too well, that things  never went so smoothly for him, there had to be a catch somewhere, a hidden disappointment that was going to bite him on the ass like pretty much everything else in his life had, but he shrugged off the feeling, shaking his head a little.  Even if that was true, and things were just going to blow up in his face, that just meant that he had to enjoy the good while it lasted, for as long as it lasted. He didn’t tease, although he would have been perfectly within his rights to do so; just quietly moved to sit beside him, leaning against his side even as he rested the lotion against the arm of the couch, pressing a kiss that was dangerously close to tender against the meat of Sollux’s shoulder. “Want a little help?” Sollux, glanced sideways towards him, dirty blond bangs coming dangerously close to obstructing his vision, his hazel colored eye narrowed for a second, obviously trying to judge just how sarcastic the question was, before lowering his gaze, notably eying the fact that Karkat’s own jeans were still very much on. “Why don’t you take care of your pantth, and I can take care of mine.” Karkat fought back a snicker- he was reaching his limit of laughs he could have in a single day, can’t be overindulging in something like that-, and shrugged, leaning back a little as he began to toe off his socks.  “Hey, man, whatever you want.” He leaned back even more, until he was resting on his elbows, raising his hips at the same time his fingers worked in familiar movements to unbutton his jeans, unzipping, just so that he could hook his thumbs underneath the hem, hooking his boxers at the same time, seeing no need to waist any time.  He had to shift a little, shimmying to work the fabric down thighs that were a bit too damn thick for his liking, his half hard member swaying a little between them with the movement, and normally he’d put up a hell of a fight before exposing them, but Sollux was going to be far too busy to say anything about the size of his thighs. Or the softness of his stomach.  Karkat was going to make sure of that. When he finally got them off, pushing them off to the side where, hopefully, he would neither lose them or trip over them when trying to get up, he glanced over to see that Sollux had made absolutely no progress with his own pants- probably because he wasn’t even making an attempt anymore, eyes glued onto the new, exposed bits of Karkat’s soft skin.  So he rolled his eyes, not bothering to take off his sweater as he slid off of the couch, onto his knees,  insistently pushing long legs apart so he could fit himself between them, batting away the normally competent hands. “And here I thought you weren’t quite useless,” he tsked, softly, tone not nearly as harsh as his words.  “But I guess if you want something done right, or at least before the next ice age, then you have to do it yourself.”  He glanced up, an automatic gesture to check on Sollux’s emotions, to make sure he wasn’t be taken too seriously, to make sure that he didn’t have to apologize, and make sure that they were still on good terms.  He didn’t expect how Sollux would be looking at him so... intently.  Although, to be fair, when the guy /was/ actually looking at something, that seemed to be the only way he could look. That fact didn’t stop Karkat’s face from heating up, practically burning red, even as he ducked his head and reached up half blindly to try and push his friend’s face back, or to the side, anything to break the visual contact for a moment, somehow managing to get his sharp chin, and push up, forcing his head up and back.  “Stop looking at me like that, asshole!  I shouldn’t be the one feeling self-conscious when you’re the one who couldn’t get out of his fucking shorts.  Bastard.” Karkat would’ve expected to be berated, to have some sort of snark thrown his way, because that was just how their friendship worked, they bitched and snipped and snarked, playing the classic game of ‘who can pretend to not give a fuck the longest’, then a few minutes of assuring each other and themselves that things are cool, before starting over again.  Rinse and repeat. He hadn’t expected Sollux to take a hold of his wrist, long thin fingers looking especially pale as they wrapped  him, pulling his hand off of his face, only to hold it still as he pressed his lips against his palm, a move that was surprisingly sentimental and not at all surprisingly super effective  at melting Karkat’s heart. “If you don’t want me to look, then you need to learn how to not be tho hot when you’re in my line of thight.”  It came off as a little chastising, but it was hard to be upset about that, considering that it was also a compliment that Karkat hadn’t seen coming. ”...Shut up, Captor.”  He tried to sound gruff, carefully tugging his hand out of Sollux’s hold- not before he managed to nip at his fingertips- focusing on using both hands to free Sollux from the confines of his denim shorts, sitting back on his heels so that he would have enough room to pull them down, off his bony hips, down pale, slender thighs.  And exposing the proud rise of his erection, tall and flushing red, long and slender like his fingers.  Girth wise, it wasn’t even really half of as wide as Gamzee’s had been, but that wasn’t especially a bad thing, especially when he was actually as long, with a gorgeous curve, perfectly made to hit those hidden sweet spots.  His breath actually caught, his own cock pulsing in interest where it sat between his own slightly spread legs, brushing up against the hem of his sweatshirt. He didn’t even bother to pull the shorts all the way down and off, just down and over his knees enough that he could lean in, right arm reaching for the lotion he’d left on the couch, even as his left arm draped itself over a thin leg, hand slowly, almost lazily wrapping around the length, squeezing experimentally, beyond pleased when it visibly twitched in his hold.  Sollux was responsive, and responsive was good.  Definitely something that he could work with. He sent up a quick thanks to whatever being that may be up there in the sky that Sollux had gotten the lotion in the easy to use pump dispenser, since trying to actually open anything one handed would have probably been disastrous.  As it was, it wasn’t the most graceful motion he’d ever made,  angling the bottle so that he could squirt plenty of cold lotion onto his thigh, jaw clenching at the chill before he could place the bottle down and  carefully beginning to coat one, two, three fingers.  Luckily, he was positioned in such a way that Sollux couldn’t actually see what his free hand had been doing, and even if he had been, Karkat was pretty sure he would’ve been distracted with the way he started to stroke him, pulling out every trick he knew, thumb brushing up against the overheated, flushed head when it could, giving a little twist of his wrist when he reached the top, which earned him a pleased sounding gasp.  And when it started to look like Sollux was maybe getting a little bit used to his rhythm, he brought his hand all the way up, pressing his palm against the slick head, rubbing clockwise, then counter clockwise, snickering a little when Sol’s hips bucked up, uncontrolled, and very unSollux-like. Sollux groaned, and whined, and writhed, everything Karkat could ask for.  He was a sight, a vision, proof that Karkat could manage to do a few things right every once in a while, could make someone even as notoriously picky as the youngest Captor let go for a while and just enjoy the sensations. Maybe it was because the thought of that warmed his heart, and went straight to his loins,making everything hot and molten and /hard/.  Maybe it was because he'd never seen Sollux more gorgeous then he was then, red and squirming, chest heaving with each breath and sharp hips canting, swaying, thrusting, looking for more and more friction, focus, attention.  Maybe it was because, when it came right down to it, he never could deny Sollux anything, especially his unspoken requests. Or maybe it's just been too long since he'd allowed himself the pleasure of going down on someone else.  Maybe it didn't matter why he shifted forward, even as he place his moistened hand between his legs, wasting no time with either his mouth or his fingers, closing his eyes as he placed a wet, open mouth kiss right on the tip of Sol's cock, lapping quickly at his drooling slit, the salty, musky taste making him moan softly just as much as the feeling of him rubbing the tips of his index and middle finger against his entrance. A part of him realized that he really shouldn't be blowing his best friend if he wanted him to last longer then a few seconds inside of him, and that by doing that it just meant that he'd have even less time to properly stretch and prepare himself, and God knew that it had been a while since he'd had anything substantial in his ass, and he needed all the time he could get. The rest of him effectively told that little part to shut the hell up, and bobbed his way down the cock of his mouth, tongue tracing wrinkles and indents, feeling veins pulse hot and hard, memorizing textures and flavors for dark, lonely nights, to distract him during the days.  He just worked his tongue, and hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard and fast, and working his fingers just the same, stroking the rest of Sollux that he couldn't quite fit in his mouth and plunging one, two fingers inside of himself, scissoring hard.  That last bit wasn't the most comfortable thing he'd done in the world, but the scent of Sollux, aroused Sollux was making his head fuzzy, more then enough so to let the pleasure of what he was doing to his friend mask and blend with the twinges of discomfort in his own ass, until it was a dull pleasure plain.  Something familiar.  Something he enjoyed. "Kuh...  Kay...!  I, I think I might-"  Sollux didn't even get to finish his sentence before he was pulling off, jaw a tiny bit sore- fuck, he was so out of practice- but smiling when the blond whined, throwing his head back and hissing out a curse.  "Fuck you, Vantath, you thon of a whoring-" Karkat tsked, slapping Sollux's boney knee with his free hand, working a third finger in quickly, too quickly, wincing slightly, and didn't really keep it in long enough to actually be of any help, but he'd deal with the consequences tomorrow.  Maybe try to guilt Sollux into buying him some ice cream or something.  Not the cheap shit, though.  His ass deserved nothing but the finest of Häagen-Dazs for giving Sollux his first lay, surely. "That would be the point, Captor," he said slowly, like he was explaining something to a young, hard headed child, which earned him a sneer.  Until he stood up, and placed a knee on either side of his slender hips, clean hand being placed down on his chest, pinning him down- and he could feel Sol's heart fluttering there, pushing up against his palm with each beat, fuck, that was even better then having his dick in his mouth, and that had been unarguably the best thing to have happened to Karkat in months- while the other encircling his shaft, holding him straight up and steady as he lowered himself and... Yes.  There.  Right there. Sollux's tip was right there, pressed boldly up against his hole, and even despite the fact of very much knowing that he wasn't, he felt huge.  Gigantic.  Impossible large.  But even as nerves began to jump around in his stomach, so did anticipation.  He had felt empty, wanting, hungry, his ass greedy for the stretch and burn and then the fullness, his heart aching for the closeness and connection.  So when his eyes unconsciously glanced downwards, to his friend's familiar face, and saw Sollux gazing back at him, eyes locking, pupils blown wide, reflecting just how much he wanted it too, he didn't even bother to deny either of them any longer. He relaxed the muscles in his legs, letting gravity do all of the hard work of getting the blunt head of his friend's, for now lover's cock inside of him.  That was always the hardest park, and sure enough, once the it forced it's way through the tight ring of muscles- that Karkat really did try to relax, but he just wasn't as used to it as he'd once been, not as loose anymore, and it wasn't easy, dammit-, the shaft followed much easier, and he was halfway down Sollux before he had to pause, panting, brows drawn low as he concentrated on getting used to the feeling. "...Karkat?"  He blinked, forcing his eyes to focus on Sollux, who's expression was tightly drawn, brown shiny with sweat, worrying him for a second until he realized it was just because he was forcing himself to not move, to stay still for the smaller man, until he was ready for him again.  "You... You okay?" His lips twitched up in a little, quick, fond smile, heart beating so fast in his ears that it practically drowned out every other sound.  His ass hurt, his dick had gone to half mast, and he was going to have a hard time walking tomorrow, but "I'm fan-fucking-tastic."  And he had never, ever meant that phrase more then he did, right then. Experimentally, he shifted his hips a little, changing the angle around, trying to find one that would make thrusting a little easier, and Sollux gasped, like a fish out of water, desperate for air, and his hand, his hand thrust forward, taking a hold of the wrist of the hand that he'd been using to finger himself, to guide Sollux, pulling it closer to him until he could easily lace their fingers together.  Like this meant something to him. Like Karkat meant something to him. With renewed determination, Karkat pushed up his hips, then lowered them.  It wasn't nearly as fast as he wanted to go, but each time he came back down, he took in another inch or so, and before he even knew it, he was sheathing Sollux as fully as he'd ever be able to, resting completely flush on his lap, experimentally tightening around the intrusion to get a really good feel for it, to memorize, to make a note of the fact that that was Sollux Captor's cock inside of him. "/KK/,,!  Thtop, or I'll... I can't, you'll, you'll make me...!"  His voice was rough, strained, and Karkat's own cock perked up about half an inch, just hearing him, the tone, what he was saying.  "You're gonna fucking thqueeth my dick off!" "Don't you dare hold back on me, Captor," he growled back, rolling his hips, gasping loudly when he found his prostate halfway around, and did it again.  Oh, yes, welcome back completely, boner.  "Give it to me.  Give me all you got, do it now!" As if on command, Sollux's hips rocked upwards.  Now, as far as Karkat had sunken onto him, that didn't do much, but when the smaller man matched the roll of his hips to the stuttering tempo, they both started to pant, hard, and it didn't take long at all for Sollux's eyes to roll to the back of his head. Almost too late, Karkat scrambled his way off, the first surge of hot, white cum mostly inside of his ass, a little on his ass, and he could feel it starting to slowly slide it's way out even as the next surge hit the top of his thigh, a bit of his stomach, and even crossed his own cock.  Which, no doubt, was hot in and of itself, and why, as he flopped sideways onto the couch next to where Sollux was sprawled half on it, the hand that had been on Sol's chest mindlessly, immediately wrapped around his shorter erection, smearing it with the jizz, making thrusting into the tight grip of his hand easy, so very easy. He wasn't as close as Sollux had been, though, between the pain and the overwhelming feeling of being stretched that still ghosted in the sudden emptiness of his ass, too many sensations and feelings distracting him from getting off before Sollux regained control of himself, even though he wanted to.  He whimpered, frustrated, hips jerking against his own hand, and even tugged his other hand out of Sollux's grip- how he managed that, he had now idea, since that hand actually felt a little bruised from just how damn hard his hacker friend had gripped him as he came, and even after, like he was afraid Karkat was going to leave or something-, hoping that using both hands would do the job where one couldn't. But then he felt a sharp slap on his arm, stinging even through the thick fabric of the sweatshirt he was still wearing, and froze, looking almost guiltily over at a dazed looking Sollux.  "Hold up.  Jethuth..  What are you even doing, Thithead?  Lemme."  He pulled Karkat's hands away, strong despite the way his own hands were shaking slightly, though whether it was from nerves or from coming down from an intense orgasm, Karkat couldn't tell- and curled over on himself, bringing his face close, like he was going to- Like Sollux was going to- Like he would- Karkat's hands slammed up against his face, wet and messy, both of them now, leaving sticky residue behind even as the muffled the  rumbling keen that shook his entire body, back arching up even as he felt his balls pull in close, and release, sinfully sweet and addictive, rolling through his body, first making him tense, then absolutely boneless, hands sliding off slowly, feet and legs sliding on the floor, melting into the couch even as he saw Sollux's grimace. Grimacing because his face was streaked with Karkat's own cum, because he came without Sollux even actually doing more then breath on him, like some untried teenager. Nothing could sober a person up quicker then fear and self loathing, but Karkat still wobbled as he tried to sit up, still slurred a little when he said, "Fuck, shit, damn, 'M so sorry, stupidstupidstupid!  Didn' mean to, didn'- Are you m'kay?  Sorry, so sorry, so-" There was Sollux's hand again, hard against his mouth, pushing Karkat's head back into the couch a little even as he sat up, pulling off his two toned glasses, which had kept jizz from his eyes but had been severely covered themselves in doing so, and blinked, licking the corner of his lip, smearing some of the cum by there, grinning a little when he felt, heard, saw Karkat whimper. "Chill the fuck out.  Everything ith fine.  Jutht meanth that necktht time, I get to blow a load all over your fathe." The words 'necktht time' echoed through Karkat's mind as they both settled down, and then cleaned up, Sollux taking notice of the smaller man's wince whenever he moved to fast, and volunteered to get some tissues and a washcloth, though Karkat insisted on cleaning himself up.  He did let Sollux help him back into his boxers, though, and didn't put up any kind of attempt at a struggle as the taller man carefully situated himself around him, curling up against him, for once being mindful of the uncomfortable points and angles his bones made. Five minutes into the most comfortable cuddle he'd ever had with his best friend, he finally voiced the words he'd been thinking, turning his head, and looking at the long, sharp blade of his nose out of the corner of one wide eye. "Are we still friends?" There was another pause, but before Karkat could get too anxious, Sollux was wrapping him into a one armed hug, squeezing him tightly back against his chest, even as he rested his chin right above his head. "KK, we're anything you want uth to be."

[indulgingfiction]

Extraordinary; Chapter 4

Three days later, and John found himself laying back on a park bench on as gorgeous a day as one could possibly hope for, looking up at a cloudless, endlessly blue sky, and feeling...

  Well, frustrated, mostly. He wasn't happy, despite the fact that he was sure he'd outsmarted his friends, having not even left the town that Roxy had found him in. That's what he would've expected, had he been looking for someone, that they would've tried to run as far away as fast away as possible. So he did the opposite, staying put, though he did lie low, keeping quiet and too himself, not doing anything to draw attention to himself. And his plan had worked, obviously.

But apparently, success didn't mean happiness, because he wasn't the least bit pleased with himself and the turn of events. He even felt a little... disappointed.

  Which, of course, just pissed him off, because he didn't want to be found. Well, he did, but he knew that wasn't for the best. And he'd been trying /so hard/ to do what was best for all his friends, and he couldn't let his own emotional weakness bring an end to the first thing he'd managed to really do right in probably a decade.

  He didn't have a /right/ to be disappointed that nobody had found him. He didn't have a /right/ to start to wish that he had handled things differently. He didn't have a /right/ to-

  "Gotcha."

  Before he could process what was happening, John found himself in the air, the on somebody else's shoulder, forcing the air out of his lungs as firm flesh bore into his stomach in a way that wasn't exactly painful, but definitely far too sudden for comfort.

  He first move after that should've been to reach for his sylladex and grab out his hammer, and get back in control of the situation. If not that, then he should have kicked, screamed, punched, just made a damn fuss, so the other few people in the park would notice that something was up, something was wrong. But he noticed that they were moving far too fast, and his first instinct was to grab on to his hat. If he had enough time to think, he would have known that that should definitely not have been his priority, but it got a little hard to breath, even thinking about losing his father's hat, and he just... he couldn't.

  But he didn't have a chance to think about that, because almost as soon as he was thrown over someone's shoulder, he was gone, and... dumped into the back seat of a car?

  The sudden change in location was sobering enough that John finally did pull out his hammer, not really paying attention to the occupants in the vehicle, just focused on getting out of the car as fast as possible, fighting in such a closed environment would e dangerous, odds stacked against him, he had to get out in the open where he could actually move around, where he could fight effectively, where he had a chance.

  He had leaned forward, and had his fingers just brushing the handle on the backseat car door, when a hand wrapped around his wrist.

  A soft hand, small, with dainty fingers. Definitely not the hand of some weird kidnapper/serial killer.

  He paused, taken aback, his grip slackening, and he turned his head just in time to see Rose Lalonde pulling his ball pein out of his hand.

  "Oh."

  She raised a brow, her expression showing what she would have verbalized the last time he saw her. /Oh indeed/.

  He glances forward and there's Jade, sitting up in the passenger seat, looking... well, mostly pissed, a deep furrow between dark brows as she glowered at him. His own gaze dropped quickly, unable to keep looking at those bright green eyes, looking too dark with their pupils blown wide.

  So he looked into the rear view mirror, and saw Dave's face, not hidden as much as it used to be by the shades he'd gotten him what felt like a lifetime ago, but he'd finally grown into them. They still managed to be an effective shield, hiding those expressive red eyes, so all he had to keep schooled was really his mouth., which, if John was anyone else, he'd probably think was being kept in a very neutral straight line.

  But John wasn't anyone else, and he noticed the tautness at the corner of his lips.

  "Finally mastered that Pokerface, huh?" he lied, trying to lighten up the heavy tension in the car.

  Jade wasn't impressed, but the corner of Dave's lip curled up for a moment, and he gave a soft nod of acknowledgment.

  There was another loaded silence, the air feeling even thicker, and John couldn't really think of anything to say, but he had to, felt like he wasn't going to be able to breath properly if he didn't.

  "...Really though, guys? Was this really necessary?"

  "You should be thanking your lucky stars you're even conscious right now," Jade barked, and if she still had the dog ears from Bec, they would have been pinned back, he knew it. "I wanted to knock your stupid ass out, and drag you home. Would have, too, if Dave wasn't such a big fucking softy."

  He turned towards Rose, head, shoulders, knees, until his whole body was facing her, hands clenched down on his lap to keep from reaching for her. "Rose." She'd always been the voice of reason, always the one who saw them through any plans they needed, always able to be the most mature among them when they needed someone to make the hard decisions. Surely she'd understand. She'd get that he had to go. "Please."

  She held herself pretty well, all things considered, but John still caught the hint of a grimace on her face, hyper aware of any move she made, even the tiniest of facial twitches. He watched her take a deep breath, her shoulders rolling back like she was about to take on the world, and fixed him with that sympathetic, understanding look. The kind she always used when she was going to tell him something she knew he didn't want to hear.

  "Normally, I'd take into consideration the fact that you clearly do not wish for our company." He barely suppressed a wince, and clenched his fists harder, until short nails were digging into his palms. Did they really think that? That he just didn't want to be around them anymore? "But," she paused for a moment, glancing him up and down, and John was suddenly very aware of the length of his hair peaking out from underneath his fedora, the little bit of stubble on his chin, the stain on his jeans and the tear at the cuff of his jacket, "given the circumstances, it would be in everyone's best interest if we keep an eye on you. And given you recent history, the best way to do that is to keep you as close as possible."

  "...Given the circumstances? /Given the circumstances?/" Were they trying to imply something? Okay, so he wasn't dressed in the newest fashions, and maybe more of his clothes then not happened to have stains and/or tears on them. He hadn't had a haircut in a while, either. He didn't have a surplus of cash. But for a guy who left his home at sixteen, walking and hitchhiking his way across pretty much the whole damn country, who'd tended to make enough money being paid under the table doing odd jobs, performing out on the streets, that he could sleep with a roof over his head, and even have a hot meal if he wanted one. Hell, he'd go ahead and say that he was actually doing pretty damn good for himself, /given the circumstances/! "I don't /need/ you guys to take care of me. I'm not some fucking stray that you pick up off the street and rehabilitate. I am /not/ a charity case!" His voice was low, rough, hissed out through clenched teeth, and he reached for the door handle, yanking hard, even though he wasn't even the least bit surprised to find that it was locked.

  He heard a noise, something like a strangled, paniced whimper, and closed his eyes tightly when he realized that that noise came from him. God, he sounded like an animal he just finished saying that he wasn't. Stuck, trapped. With exactly the people he'd just been wishing he could be with. Heh. Fucking irony.

  John made one more attempt, though, to get through to them, to the only one who'd always given him what he needed, every time he needed it. He pushed himself forward, reaching around the seat in front of him, grabbing onto the sleeve of Dave's shirt, tugging lightly on it, looking into the mirror where he knew the blond's eyes lay hidden. "Dave. /Dave/..."

  The Texan didn't say anything, just shook his head, but John recognized the set of his mouth, lips held so tightly together they were nothing but a straight, unbending line. A resolute look that he'd seen too many times on Davesprite's face. A look that had never boded well for John.

  That was that. Game over. All those years, all those sacrifices, all the good he'd managed to accomplish from it, all the progress Rose and Jade and Dave had made, gone.

  He leaned back, pulling his hat down low, shadowing his eyes because he could feel them starting to water, and he wasn't going to damn well cry in front of his friends right then. His successful, famous friends, who managed to go out an make things of themselves, instead of festering in their own misery. John turned his head, looking resolutely out the window, not saying a single word, even as he showed his defeat by pulling on his seat belt, the click of it snapping into place loud in the otherwise silent car. Not saying a word as Dave started to back out of the parking space, then drive down the road. Not saying a word as he felt three sets of eyes look at him.

  He'd gotten exactly what he wanted, and he still couldn't find it in himself to be happy. So all he could do was wait until his friends, the people who meant the absolute most to him in the world, realized that they hadn't gotten their John back, but something broken.

  Something that, he was sure, could never be fixed.

[indulgingfiction]

Like Wearing Your Boyfriend's Clothes, Only Better

[indulgingfiction]

Extraordinary; Chapter 3

I'm on a roll, and I think I'm going to finish a little Pepsicola Oneshot today, if anyone should be interested, ehehe.

As always, AO3 link is right over here.

Pst, next up the other Beta's come in!

She could hardly believe it. Even right before her eyes, standing there in the flesh, she could hardly believe that it was really the infamous John.

Of course, the fedora was what first caught her attention, not nearly as old and tattered and dirty as the one that Jane had treasured so much, but she'd recognize the very manly, dadly headgear anywhere. Or, at least, she hoped she did. And her gut instinct had been right, because as soon as the figure wearing said headgear had turned around, she saw a more masculine version of Jane's face. A more weathered, gaunt version, with wide blue eyes, bluer then any other eyes she'd ever seen. Impossibly blue, the kind that only belonged to one man.

Impossibly blue eyes that looked panicked and actually hurt when he looked at her, his expression growing taunt, body tense, like he was preparing himself for some kind of turbulence.

Any other situation, and she'd have her cell out already, calling up Rose or Dave, and Jane, maybe even Dirk, but.... She just never could turn her back to somebody who needed her, and John, for all that he'd brought whatever it was he was going through onto himself, needed help.

"Long time no see, John," she called as she walked forward, not too fast, because she didn't want to scare him off, but not too slow, either. The last thing that she needed was to make him feel like she thought he was like some kind of scared animal, and offend him.

John recognized what she was doing, right off the bat, though he did give her credit for the thoughtfulness. Rose would do that, sometimes, when one of them was being particularly stubborn over something, though when she did it, it was rather painfully obvious. Roxy seemed more casual, but it was still a very Lalonde move.

And maybe that was why it allowed him to relax, to smile a little sheepishly at her.

"It's been a bit, yeah." Roxy noticed his voice was quiet, and while she hadn't heard him talk a lot, it didn't really seem like the voice that had once laughed so happily when he was reunited with his friends, that had screamed with so much rage during the final battle. It was subdued, adult, and nothing like the voice of a boy that had once controlled the winds. "You're looking pretty good, though. Life's been treating you kindly?"

She smiled back, a soft, quick movement of her lips, and nodded slowly, pushing some of her blond hair behind her ear. "It's been pretty good. But I don't suppose this is actually the place to sit and get reacquainted, huh? Taking up space in the middle of a sidewalk. Why don't we go and get a cup of coffee, and chat?"

He hesitated, and she could practically see the gears turning in his head as his hand came up again, fingering the rim of his hat in what she could tell was an unconscious gesture or uncertainty, the same some people twirled their hair, or twiddled their thumbs, before he pulled himself to his full height- which still ended up being a few inches shorter then herself, though still a little bit taller then Jane, at least. The poor dears, it was like the Harley-Englishes had taken all the tall genes. She supposed she should go and thank Dirk for not being an ectobiological jerk and not being too much terribly taller then herself, comparatively.

"Sure. Yeah. Coffee is good. My treat."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't a question, and though she desperately wanted to pay, having no idea just how much money he might have on him- though all things considered, he didn't really look all that worse for wear.. And besides that, she was pretty sure that he’d just go ahead and walk away if she didn't let him- she knew that set look in his eyes all too well, though she was used to seeing it with a much lighter shade.

"Yeah, alright buster. But I get to choose where, yeah?" She didn't allow him to answer, just gently placed her hands on his shoulders, turning him around- he was wearing a heavy coat, and she was feeling a little concerned, so maybe she was just being a worrywart, but she'd swear that his arms felt far too thin underneath the thick fabric-, lacing one arm with his, and began to walk casually down down the street with him, letting herself talk about nothing in particular.

John didn't mind, though, would even nod and hem and haw at the correct times, though he didn't really have anything to contribute about cat-food, or why it was ridiculous that a person couldn't just go and buy some chemical or another at WalMart, when you could get basically the same kind of result from a bag of fertilizer, if somebody wants to blow something up, they're going to do it, and Roxy shouldn't be "punished" because some people simply don't know how to safely play with dangerous chemicals. Honestly, he had no idea what she was talking about half the time, but it was nice. A little nostalgic, even.

"And so then I said- oh, that's sweet, thanks Hon," she paused her story as John opened the door to the small little coffee shop that Roxy had been leading them to, giving him a large smile and patting his hand, a gesture that even a few years ago would have had him rolling his eyes, or even worse, feel irritated that he had to be thanked for doing something that was only common courtesy, like it was something special, or like they were surprised that he'd think to do it. But right then, all he could feel was a little pleased, he'd managed a job well done, one of the small victories that added up, made it easier to keep going, something that, if his father had been there, would have earned him that proud smile, the one that made his eyes crinkle, brought out his father's dimples.

He blinked, when he realized that he'd spaced out for a bit, and in that time not only did they end up in front of the counter, but Roxy was already ordering herself a drink.

“Oh, uh, a small coffee for me, plain please.” John said when the barrista turned to him.

Roxy cocked her head curiously, but managed to not say anything until they’d gotten their drinks, and went to go sit down at one of the small tables in the back, quiet and out of the way, even giving them time to sit down, and John to remove his hat, placing it on the table, another bit of manners he couldn’t consciously recall ever having picked up. “Huh. I always pictured you’d be an ounce of coffee with your milk and sugar kind of guy.”

John chuckled a little at that, but didn’t say anything. Mostly because she was right, he really did hate plain black coffee, but he hadn’t felt like asking for anything more complicated while he was up there. He took a small sip from his styrofoam cup, and gave him a pat on the back that he’d managed not to wince at the strong, bitter flavor.

“So, time to catch up, huh? I’ll go first, I suppose. Life’s pretty sweet right now. Moved in with my Bros and Janey, all together now. Probably something that we should’ve done in the very beginning, but now we can really appreciate that we have each other, you know? It’s fun, though, living with friends like that. Between Jake and Dirk, there’s never really a dull moment, and even Jane’s cut loose a lot! Although...” She paused, narrowing her eyes on John for a moment, and he realized that he’d face an ocean of black coffee before he’d ever voluntarily deal with a Lalonde stink-eye again, “you gave her quite a bit of a fright, young Mister Egbert.”

He winced, legs shifting and right hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, shaggy hairs that had gone too long without a trim tickling the back of his hand, and blushed. An honest to god blush, that pinkened his ears, and turned his cheeks ruddy.

“Of course, I did. Sneaking out in practically the middle of the night like that... Unbelievably shitty of me. God, I really wasn’t thinking all that straight; could’ve handled that much better then I did. I really am sorry, though. Jane deserved better then that...”

Roxy relented, eyes and face and body softening, just a little, though. She wasn’t happy with John, honestly, and what he did. Hurting Jane was one thing- a rather big thing, in fact-, but then he also hurt so many other people in the process. Dirk and Jake had told her about how his sudden disappearance had devastated their family members, Dave locking himself in his room for months, and Jade becoming hyper aggressive to keep from becoming depressed herself. And Rose, oh Rose spent so long, trying to figure out what warning signs she’d missed, wondering why she hadn’t been able to see what was going to happen, constantly drowning in what ifs.

But John didn’t look at all happy, either. He hadn’t just left for shits and giggles. Which only left one question.

“Why’d you do it, then?”

He let out a sigh, but didn’t hesitate as he reached into his coat, pulled out his WalletModus, and took out three items: a Time magazine, dated back a few years, with Jade on the cover, hair up in a bun, glasses pushed to the top of her head, and her eyes looking as green as the uranium she was known for working with, and a curious wrinkle right next to her picture, like somebody had often rubbed back and forth at the cover, like a worry stone; a first edition copy of The Ancestors, well taken care of but obviously well loved, some of the yellow pages a little dogeared, the spine cracked and bent from countlessly opening to book to various pages; and a copy of the movie based off of Rose’s book, wrinkled in the same curious little way the magazine had been, the plastic above the name of the producer and directer.

“You’ve seen all of these, I’m sure,” he said quietly, eyes soft and fingers infinitely gentle as he moved the three items on the small table, fanning them out before Roxy. “Here’s Jade, making leaps and bounds in the world of science, with rumors of a well deserved Nobel prize coming her way. Rose is now a multi-million dollar authoress, who I’m pretty sure could write a ten paged novella about taking a crap, and it’d still end up a number one best seller. And Dave not only can basically run Wallstreet any time he’d like, but he’s also the biggest up and coming director in Hollywood. Hell, he doesn’t even need Hollywood, he could make independent movies all the time, and they’d do just as well as Rose’s books.”

He paused for a breath of air, and glanced up to Roxy, blue eyes meeting pink, watching the expressions roll over her face. “It’s just like how it was in your universe, right? They were all successful, and relatively happy, other then having to fight against the BatterBitch. And do you know what else is the same as there?”

She shook her head, slowly, and John smiled. A small, slightly self depreciating smile. “I’m not around to fuck it up for them.”

“That’s not-” She tried to argue, eyes wide, barely able to believe that he actually believed that, but he just gave her a dry look, before pushing his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.

“True? Maybe that wasn’t strictly the all that was going on in the Alpha Session,” he relented a little, though it was rather clear by the tone of his voice that he didn’t believe that for even a second, “but I know it is, here. They never would’ve been able to succeed and live the lives they were meant to, if I’d stuck around. I can’t-”

He closed his eyes, and slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his chair, for once looking as tired physically as he felt emotionally.

“There’s something not right with me, Roxy. I don’t know if it’s just broken or sprained, or bent, but whatever it is, it’s keeping me stuck. I can’t just... Hell, I don’t think that I was ever going to be able to really do anything with my life, nothing impressive, even if The Game had never happened. Now, I’m nothing but an anchor.”

He opened his eyes, and Roxy felt her breath catch, because there, that hard set, turning his eyes almost icy, that was the kind of passion she’d remembered seeing from him, all those years before.

“I miss them. I really, really do. But I’m so proud of what they’ve manage to accomplish, in just five fucking, unbelievable years. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to end up weighing any of them down.”

They were silent, for a moment or two, just looking at each other, before Roxy sighed, reaching across the table to take a hold of his hand, squeezing it softly.

“You know I’m going to call Rosey up, don’t you?”

John raised a brow, and grinned sardonically. “You’re out here, in the middle of practically nowhere, on your best friend’s birthday,” he answered, chuckling a little. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not actually stupid. Honestly, I’m kind of surprised that you haven’t texted her our location already.”

She rolled her eyes, but let go of John’s hand, allowing him to almost reverently put away the items he’d shown her, and she could feel her already aching heart begin to break. He hadn’t done the right thing, no, but she knew now, at least, that it wasn’t out of spite.

“I thought about it,” she admitted, thinking about the tweet she’d saw a couple of days ago, completely on accident, about a street performer, who could juggle and play piano, did little magic tricks for the kids, and had the most amazing blue eyes anyone had ever seen. “But I had to make sure it was you, first.” She wasn’t going to hurt everyone else with a false alarm.

John hummed, nodding, and started to stand up, sensing that their conversation was drawing to a close. “I really can’t say that I blame you. I know, if I were in your position, that I would’ve already called up the cavalry. At this point, though, by the time you call them up, I’ll already have a head start.” Which, he hoped, would be enough to be able to slip under the radar again.

She stood up with him, gracefully taking his arm when he offered it, and walked out of the shop together, and even further, down the road, until they came to an intersection.

Rosy tugged at his coat, until he was facing her, and pulled him into a hug, nodding her head until she could press a soft kiss to his cheek, taking in how it was clean shaven against her lips, how he smelled clean, how other then how long his hair had gotten, how his clothes were starting to get on the shabby side, how he was far too skinny, a sight that just didn’t look right on any Egbert/Crocker, it did seem like he was actually taking care of himself, a comforting thought, especially if, by some strange twist of fate, and slipped out of their fingers again.

“You be sure to eat more, you hear me, buddy?”

“Sure thing, Mom,” he snickered, before returning her hug with a quick, tight squeeze of his own, hoping she understood that he really did actually enjoy seeing her again, that he was thankful she just talked to him, instead of kidnapping him off of the streets or whatever sort of harebrained scheme Jake or Dirk would’ve gone through, if it’d been them.

But he couldn’t stay, and Roxy reluctantly let him go, saying a quiet “Happy Birthday” towards his back as she watched him walk away, never looking back, the only sign that he might have heard her was him placing his hat back on top of his head. She watched him until he faded from view.

And then she pulled her cellphone out of her pocket, pressing a singular button as she brought it up to her ear.

“Hey. I found him.”