AN: So occasionally I receive emails that reminds me that Puzzle is, indeed, a thing I wrote about a year ago. It never really got an ending (it also never really had a plot), and it's marked down as a WIP, so I figured that I should probably complete it and move on to something more plot-driven. After all, I started at an arts school this fall, where I'm learning how not to write like a dumbass (this being said, I will eventually get around to fixing and editing the previous one-shot chapter things), so I think I'm ready to move on to something a bit more complex. We'll see, I suppose.

Be Karkat Vantas

Graduation is a really, really painful event created by the gods of misery. All there is to worry about is paying for caps and gowns, getting good grades so you can get into college, applying to said colleges, and leaving everyone you've grown up with behind.

I wasn't too worried about most of these things. I had a solid 3.7 GPA and my family didn't really have any money issues. Also, most of the people I grew up with were total dicks.

Most of them.

Dave was going to a college out in California, and I was headed off to Penn State in Pennsylvania. We wouldn't see each other often, if at all, and due to his ridiculously high social activity level, I was sure he wouldn't have any time for me.

Those are the things I was freaking out about as Kankri drove me to the ceremony. He blathered on and on and on about the importance of good grades in college (while managing to call me a few gay slurs, as he is prone to), but I didn't listen. I was too worried.

Karkat: Move on to the ceremony

Metal folding chairs are not comfortable, but I sat on one anyways after entering the gymnasium with the rest of my class in fancy ass lines. Due to our last names, I didn't see Strider until he got up and walked across stage.

A few speeches were given by administrators, talking about how excited they were for the graduating class, but you could hear in their voice that they did not care. They did this every single year. However, our valedictorian, Rose Loland, gave a speech that really did sound genuine. This was partly due to the fact that Rose is extremely passive aggressive and can disguise her utter distaste as flattery.

Karkat: Tell us about the walks

Strider had his eyes hidden by bright blue sunglasses to match the school's ugly robes. As a popular kid, his waltz was met with lots of cheering from our fellow students, and one very loud, very proud whoop from the bleachers of parents.

When my name was called, I walked in front of my class of 66 people and all their loved ones, shoulders slumped. Dave stood up and applauded as he yelled, "You go, babe!"

I could practically hear my brother shake in his dumb sweater of social justice.

I gave my boyfriend a small smile, but quickly returned to looking at the principal, who frowned. The large, imposing man wasn't a fan of mine, partly due to the fact that I was dating a Strider (they liked to prank the administrators), and partly due to the fact that the Strider I was dating was male.

Karkat: Skip to the caps

It's a rather stupid tradition to throw your graduation caps into the air. I stuffed mine inside my robe. I wanted it.

Karkat: Tell us why

Shut up, I'm getting there.

When the ceremony let out into the parking lot, friends hugged each other and sobbed, all crying about how much they'd miss each other, but we all knew we'd forget about our fellow classmates by September. Parents stood around, snapping pictures and pretending like they weren't counting down the days till summer was over.

I was searching the crowds for Dave when someone snatched me by the waist. I almost yelled, but I didn't because I knew who had me. Only one person ever grabbed me like that.

I muttered as we started moving through the sea of emotional train wrecks, "Please let me go, Dirk."

He chuckled, chest vibrating behind my back. "C'mon, Shouty, lighten up! It's a celebration!"

I grunted in return, which caused his feet to slow down a bit.

"What's wrong, man?" he asked.

"I would absolutely love to have this conversation when not being held like a toddler," I snapped.

He dropped me and spun me around to face him. "Talk," he instructed.

"Where's Dave?" I asked instead.

Bro had quite the height advantage on me, so it didn't take long for him to find his brother. "I'll get him for you," he offered.

Karkat: Go on

Dirk dropped Dave and I in the dumb Strider truck. It was a silent journey, but I eventually found myself awkwardly shifting in the truck's backseat bench, Dave beside me.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking over.

I stared at my Vans, bouncing my right leg up and down for a moment.

"Hey," he called out gently, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I let him, but didn't respond.

"Karkat?"

I awkwardly reached into my graduation robe and pulled out the square cap. I thrusted it at him, not looking up. "I want you to have this," I said. "To remember me."

Dave's response was exactly what one would expect, but I was still totally shocked, for I am a dumbass. He took my face in his hands and smashed his lips against mine, kissing me like he had a specific goal in mind, turning my stomach into an Olympic gymnast. After a solid few seconds, he loosened his grip and mumbled through his chapped lips that were against my own, "I'm not going to forget a thing."

Karkat: And did he?

He never did forget. He flew to PA more times than the airlines probably would have liked (he had fun with the flight attendants), and he always brought gifts and stories and lots and lots of kisses. When he wasn't over, he'd leave me walls of text in Pesterchum, or he'd send really random things in the mail, including, at one point, a package of uncooked macaroni.

In the Spring, Dave flew me down to LA, where he took me to a fancy restaurant. Durning the main course, he scribbled something in his napkin and then made a paper football out of it and stuffed something inside. I jumped when it hit me in the nose, because it was a lot harder than I expected a napkin to be. Dave nodded at me to open it up, and I did so carefully, eventually discovering a poorly written, "DING DONG MOTHERFUCKER LETS THROW A GAY WEDDING" and a silver engagement band.

Karkat: Say "Yes"

It was more along the lines of "You gangbanging fucker, that hurt, but yes, I'll marry your sorry ass."

Dave gave me a giant grin and offered to pay for dinner, which we both tried to eat the rest of without turning into sobbing, sappy fools.

AN: So that's it! Thank you everyone for reading, especially if you were one of the ones that followed when this was posted back in January! I would absolutely love and appreciate it if you reviewed and told me what you thought : )