He wears the denim skirt because it's stiff enough at the waist to hide a lack of hips and pulls tight enough on the back when he bends over that his ass looks fantastic.

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

Feed a cold, starve a fever, and in the case of an ennui-filled Terezi Pyrope just quadruple caloric intake.

Choose lasagna as good first meal for boy humans (1) and boy trolls (1) to show you can overcome this cooking thing. Feel impugned when Rose suggests you would both eat popcorn between two slices of bread and call it a day. Advise her you only did that the once.

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

The Game is over. You've won. But it was a long, hard, painful victory, and the rewards have a catch, and you're all a little broken. But you'll stick together anyway because that's just what you do. You help each other cope and somehow in the end you'll make it through. ((Humanstuck AU: Mainly Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas. Dave second-person POV. Post-Sburb.))

Teasing can be frustrating, but it will all be worth it in the end - right?

A lighthearted vignette wherein a young lady, away from home at a professional conference, utilizes the internet to discuss an important issue in interpersonal relationships with the young man she has been cohabiting with for several years. Files are sent, metaphors are abused, and a happy ending is guaranteed.

"and you never guessed/the one you loved best/to draw always drew/pictures of you/undressed." A fairly plotless accumulation of pornographic pennings, courtesy of one Dave Strider.

John starts to love it when Dave talks with his hands.

"Everything about Dave is wonderful, especially when it's not." Three years after the game ended, the kids and their guardians live together as a big, goofy family, and John is so happy he could explode. The thing that makes him happiest is Dave. They are the best snugglebros and everything is perfect. Except that people are giving John looks like he's missing something important here, and he's not sure he wants to figure it out...

[sequel to 'Marvelous Things', from dave's POV.] "Camping?" you echo skeptically. Spending a week without internet access isn't something you're eager to volunteer for. And you're not exactly the outdoor type. Sunshine is not your friend. Why he would think you'd want to spend your spring break in the middle of nowhere, out in the open, sleeping in a tent... ... in a tent with John Egbert, in the middle of nowhere, just the two of you... sharing a sleeping bag for warmth... no one to hear his doofy giggling... or any other noises he might happen to make... A slow smile spreads over your face. "Whatever you want, baby."

Dave doesn't always understand the nature of troll romance, but most of the time he doesn't need to.

Karkat thought he knew what he was getting into, when he agreed to help Kanaya and Jade resurrect the troll race. He didn't count on the resurrected troll race including a handful of bright red grubs.

More than two sweeps after being returned to a restored Alternia, the trolls face impending adulthood and banishment from the planet. Gamzee Makara fully expects to be culled on conscription for poor health and sopor addiction - what he doesn't count on is the personal attention and protection of the Grand Highblood.

What so many of the others don't understand is that Gamzee's as pale for Karkat as Karkat is for Gamzee. Fuck, he's pretty sure he was pale for Karkat before Karkat fell for him, because Karkat's always been a tightly-wound bundle of nerves and anger and fear, just barely held together with an iron self-control that's nothing if not a miracle. Rating for Kar and Gamz's attatchment to certain words, and for themes of self-harm.

For PB&J: Take one part well-aged longing, one part awkwardness, two parts enthusiasm, and a dash of possessiveness. Mix well. Season to taste with the presence of a crabby moirail in the next block. Part of Miracle Child 'verse

The halls of the Gods are empty, echoing with unheard prayers. The forces of corruption and decay are growing in power. Soon they shall sweep across the world like an unholy plague. From the deep caverns beneath the majestic Dragonshard Mountains, across the mighty Greenweald Forest, to the fair city of Porthaven on the storm-wracked coast, there are fourteen people with the mark of a divine ruler on their skin. They do not know it, but they and only they can save the world from apocalypse and ruin. So naturally, they're going to spend as long as possible arsing about slaying monsters and looting ancient temples. 'Cos, you know, adventurers.

John beats a thunderstorm home, Rose has melted all over the bathroom, and they make do despite the absence of their other two pieces.

Your wriggling day is in three days, and while you normally celebrate this event with the apathy it deserves, this particular sweep is different. That’s because it will be your eighth sweep, and it happens to coincide with the arrival of the imperial drones. This is a milestone that every troll looks forward to with a heady combination of excitement and terror. For most trolls, when they reach their eighth sweep, they become adults. Not you. When you reach your eighth sweep, you will die.

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] has joined memo CALLING ALL JACKASSES -- CG: THANK LITTLE JEGUS AND ALL HIS WIGGLER-EATING ELVES. WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING STATUS. CA: oh great and wwhich human evven is that again TT: Oh, please. We both know perfectly how well you remember me, Mr. Ampora. TT: My status is, if you will permit the bad joke, wet and horny. CG: MY GANDERBULBS JUST IMPLODED FROM GROSS BY PROXY. WHAT THE CROTCHBLISTERING *FUCK*, LALONDE? TT: As in, I have just emerged from what is either a recuperacoon or a fairly good mock-up, and there are protrusions attached to my skull that I am inclined to believe would be candy-corn-colored. CG: ... OH. YEAH, VERY AMUSING. I AM VERY AMUSED. HERE IS A PICTOGRAPHIC REPRESENTATION OF MY MIRTH. |:B

You push yourself up to a sitting position. "Bro," you say. "Long time no see." You manage to keep your voice almost totally steady, even. He's sitting cross-legged in the sand, his elbows on his knees, his katana planted point-down next to him. His horns echo the shape of his shades, jagged outward-facing points. You wonder what yours look like, but you think you'd lose points for reaching up to cop a feel of your own headgear. "Come on. We don't exactly have the high ground out here."

“You brought me into the territory of an adult? Are you fucking pan-rotted?” You’d be screaming if it wouldn’t be a surefire way of alerting the killer down the hallway of your presence. Oh god, what have you touched in this hive? Where have you left your scent? Adults have heightened senses, don’t they? You’ll be found in an instant. You jolt sharply when Dave makes some derisive noise at you. You can practically feel him rolling his eyes, you’re so on edge right now.

"You aren't denying the guilt part," she says happily. You shrug. This was the way you really liked her, alert and predatory, delighted with life and always a little weird. "You could find anybody guilty of something." "That," Terezi declares, "is one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me."

"Why're you still here, bro," Latula repeats patiently. Kankri glances up accidentally -- midriff, oh dear -- and glances away, fast. Sitting in the surf is a man with too many visible ribs and shoulders too wide for his frame, strings-and-cables musculature in stark relief through the lack of even the smallest coating of insulating flesh. He looks starving and steel-strong both and there are little chalk-white nicks of scars everywhere on him. Foam runs up to his waist; Kankri stares, thinking stupidly, he is naked. Did he decide in a fit of whimsical, ah, otherness, to take off that last bit of -- but no, there is the edge of his waistband, and Kankri turns his gaze down to the sand between his own knees, ears burning with shame at his own salacious, depraved disappointment. They want me gone, he thinks, and he knows why. This is a perfect place, a perfect moment; he's intruding.

"I got you this." He sets a tiny box on the table between you and nudges it in your direction with psionics. You stare at it. It's the right size to hold a human-style commitment-designation ring, which you sometimes think would be a cool thing to have but as far as you know he's never been interested in. "For those times when I'm being a jackass and you need to snap me out of it." A little smile, a hint of the smug asslord creeping back in around the edges of the apologetic matesprit. "Or when you just want a shortcut to getting my attention."

"I need to—" you can't, you can't say it with Mituna there. "It's my mutation," you say instead. "There are complications." "Okay, dude, open the door," Latula says. The knob rattles, and you miss whatever Mituna says next. "Yeah, I know, but he's still one of us. We can't just let him suffer, you know?" (Kankri misses a social outing. Some of his friends come to check up on him.)

You were right about him being passive—well, receptive. Reactive. He doesn't start things, though he's always willing to stop what he's doing for a makeout session, and he puts himself in your orbit more than he needs to. You think that's his way of asking if you're in the mood. It's hard to admit it even to yourself, but you're grateful he's content to take it this slow.

The only thing that saves them is that even in the throes of berserk rage Kankri has no clue how to fight.

So, um. Terezi is kissing her. By the way. "Wowza. Lesbos R Us, at long last. I knew that day would come. Anyone got a camera." Terezi has a lot more teeth to get nibbly with than Karkat and her tongue is way longer and oh lord does she know how to use it. Jade wonders to herself, vaguely, why she never kissed her boyfriends' girlfriend before. That was a really silly oversight. Mmm. "Haha, shut up, Dave, you've been modeling for the Gay Dudes R You catalogue for like three years now." "Like you can talk, Mister It's Not Gay If He Doesn't Have Balls To Touch." -- oneshot, plus a couple of ficlet sequels.

Wherein, Having Beaten A Game, All Players Are Taken Back To The Same, Worst Available Universe, With Species Changes To Match For Those Who Did Not Match Beforehand. In short: You're all trolls now, welcome to Alternia.

You are suffering. There is a brand new circle of troll hell, and you're the lucky asshole who gets to experience it firsthand. You might have been making your peace with your eventual doom since you pupated, but nothing could have prepared you for this. Kankri is lecturing you. Ok, no, that's not even a fair description of what's happening here. Kankri is lecturing you. Kankri has been lecturing you. Kankri has been lecturing you for two fucking hours what the fuck. You have given him... let's count it up now... yeah, exactly zero reasons to do this to you. You don't even have a single goddamn clue about what has him so spun up. He happened to come back to the hive while you were making the thirty second trip between your husktop and the food preparation block, and you said hi. This is what happens when you try to be polite. All you wanted was an energy drink.

In which Karkat frets about everything and is definitely not avoiding his moirail.

This is a mixfill of two prompts! Prompt 1: Jane/Equius - She's a classy blue heiress, he's probably resilient enough to survive surprise dominatrix mode, it could work. Prompt 2: Sharp dressed man, Equius Zahhak Gold watch, diamond ring I ain't missin' not a single thing And cufflinks, stick pin When I step out I'm gonna do you in They come runnin' just as fast as they can 'Cause every girl crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man Equius Zahhak in some very nice clothes, getting undressed later by an interested party and preferably ridden hard to be put away wet. Possibly even at the party in some secluded alcove. C'mon, you know that the boy would be fiiiiiine in a tailored suit. And then it exploded on me and turned into an actual fic, god damn it. Stay tuned.

They managed to win the game somehow. He's not really sure of the details, but it's not all it's cracked up to be. He's stuck in an unfamiliar body with a thirteen year old little brother who's terrified of him. Somehow, he is sure this is his fault.

The Golden Ending for SBurb has been realized and thanks to some careful time jimmying, everyone's ended up in the same timeline and the same present. Including the Trolls. Which can be a little, uh, complicated. Started out as wondering about a family of Striders that included Davesprite and Lil Hal and Alpha Dave, ended up expanding into a massive and strange thing of beauty. Includes an homage to Asukerian's one armed Davesprite with her gracious permission. These are written in whatever order we want but we promise to make sure they're put in mostly chronological order here on the series hub. (mostly because Time Shenanigans) CANON COMPLIANT UP TO THE GIGAPAUSE.

In which Dirk has hell of computer issues/plays matchmaker, Calliope is revealed to be a big ol' pervert, and it's implied that the future of entertainment is a heavily edited version of an incredibly shitty fanfiction featuring hot unicorn on wizard action/violence. Also there's animes.

In the name of family bonding, Roxy, Rose, Dave, and Dirk play a game of truth or dare. (They may regret this plan.)