HOMESTUCK KINK MEME IV

[synnesai]

HOME STUCK KINK MEME IV

Anonymously request any pairing and kink you want. Straight, Slash, Femslash, it's all good here!

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Comments

if food be the music of love, 1/?

[anonymous]

A/N: I meant this to be like a thousand words long. It wasn't. I am sorry.

***

lalonde fuck if i know what to do theres nothing in her any more of all of them i expected this to happen to it wasnt her
moves three inches a year like a barnacle
slow as old people fucking seriously like that was ever in her like if you put a gun to my head and asked for description word it wouldnt be slow
effervescent as a shook up can of coke doesnt even get excited about licking things the snozzberries no longer taste like snozzberries in her existential crisis i guess
rose look i am halfway off feeding her a fucking prozac milkshake what do i do

SEND Y/N?

n

***

There was no quarter for Terezi that first long, hot Houston summer.

During the days she crawled into the airless space underneath Dave’s desk and slept there like some hobo or a dog waiting to die, and on those humid nights she stretched herself out her full inconsequential length on the couch and slept there too. She didn’t stir. You could thrash about six thousand points in Mad

if food be the music of love, 2/?

[urban_anchorite]

There was something flat and slouchy to her still, as though interest was tiresome and only came with effort, but she shouldered forward and beheld her crepe. She’d always been angular, but now you could play her collarbones like a grey marimba. Her hair crept around her neck in limp black noodle strands, and the only thing that hadn’t changed were the teeth: when she opened her mouth there they were, all nineteen thousand of them.

The first sniff she gave the crepe was decidedly lackluster. Then her tongue popped out in one oily, horrifyingly sinuous movement and licked a little bit of the cream away, and she breathed in the whole raspberry-banana-fudge-flour mess as though interrogating it for an alibi. Dave watched as her eyelids shuttered down, just the once, and then she licked again those cream-chocolate streamers oozing down her hand. She had long, careful, elegant fingers, and a mouth that would make anyone’s dick want to roll up in a coil and hide. It was this mouth that suddenly went snip-snap on a mouthful of fruit and

if food be the music of love, 3/?

[urban_anchorite]

Terezi wrapped herself back up in her blanket when he was tossing the trash back in the bag, aware that her eyes were on him and her aware that he was aware. She curled up bonelessly, like a child, still empty of the crackle and snap that he’d once associated with everything Terezi Pyrope; small and grey and red-eyed, with the world’s most malevolent fucking chin. “I have eaten the boots and drank the sauce,” she said.

“Congratulations. Here comes a special girl. I’ll make you a medal.”

“You should make me a medal. You should lay down a strict beat in celebration of our weird human saucemeal.”

Of course, she fell asleep later while he was mixing, and was so still and sleeping he wondered for a couple of ass-irrational moments if she was alive. Dave watched for the nearly imperceptible rise and fall of her skinny chest through her t-shirt, the little signs of her still being alive and well and living, and didn’t know if he should have felt like a loser or a pervert. In the end, he decided he was both.

***There was too big a

if food be the music of love, 4/?

[urban_anchorite]

Jelly snakes, awash with indigotine, tartrazine and FD&C blues one through seven. A packet of crumbly black Oreos, which he showed her how to unscrew and how to peel the grainy cream off with your tongue, a feat she got down perfectly first time. Candy apples lacquered with caramel, with that sugarsand bite you only got from a really fresh Granny Smith. Dave also took life and limb into his hands by boiling a tin of Eagle’s condensed milk on the stovetop, simmering it for three hours until it carmelized into pure fucking type-one diabetes. They burnt their fingers on the tin and ate it with dented spoons until they couldn’t eat it any more

if food be the music of love, 5/?

[urban_anchorite]

Worse than scoping her hot ankles was the fucked-up, overwhelming tenderness he felt watching her sleep, tenderness that was most likely him misreading the symptoms of bacterial meningitis or something equally less terminal. If he was lucky, it’d be the meningitis. Fuck.

***Dave Strider performed the ultimate act of cross-species devotion: he stood at the kitchen countertop and peeled fried chicken. The chicken he discarded, but the skin he dropped into a bowl as precious food gold. First time he’d come in and she hadn’t been around, which was probably for the best as that shit came in a bucket, but he stood there nonchalantly disrobing drumsticks and wondering when he’d lost control of his life

if food be the music of love, 6/6

[urban_anchorite]

She lay propped-up in his arms as he fed her fried chicken skin, opening her sawtoothed mouth like a little baby bird as he popped it on her tongue. They sat there with the crackle of chicken salt and oil, paprika and pepper and the sweet glide of grease as it melted on your tastebuds and gave you the assured promise of heart disease. Dipped in the holy manna of cooling gravy it was simultaneously even better and worse.

“I wasn’t looking to jump,” she said, and in the sunlight she wasn’t a monochrome thing at all: her sightless eyes were madder red, and underneath her skin came the bloody flush of electric turquoise. Her nails were a terrifying pumpkin yellow and her chopped-up, angle-boned, perfect body was as light in his arms as it had been when he’d laid her down in his laundry. Also, her mouth was covered in chicken grease and the aftermath of like nine cups of shortening. “I was looking at the jump

OP

[moeism]

De-anoning because this is too great of a fill not to -

There are no words, absolutely no words for how much I love this, and you by extension because I totally didn't expect anyone to fill this prompt. But you did and I nearly shrieked when I got the notif in my email.

This is pretty much my favorite fill ever - you give me pretty much everything I wanted and then some that I didn't even know I wanted (Terezi with sexy ankles? Hell yes). There were so many little lines here and there that I enjoyed and I would totally put them here but then I'd be quoting about 90% of this story. But the nachos -- the nachos -- were the best part and I legit couldn't stop laughing. Your characterization of Dave and Terezi and Bro (you fucking included Bro. Thank you) were perfect and I was pretty much on the end of my seat f5ing as you posted this, and I just. Teared up at the end because it was so good, so good I didn't want it to end. It was amazing, thank you thank you thank youIF THERE IS ANYTHING YOU'D LIKE IN RETURN, ANYTHING AT ALL, please

Re: OP

[urban_anchorite]

Thank you so much! I was worried this was half-assed, as I looked back halfway and was like OH WELL I HAVE FILLED NO BONUSES ON THIS. This is the first time I've really written Dave and Terezi and I was biting my fingernails over it. Also, I was writing it while reading that blog and I was writing it faint from hunger.

You liking it is everything I could ever want in return! So thank you again.

Re: if food be the music of love, 6/6

[cephiedvariable]

THIS THIS THIS THIS

I HAVE SOME DEEP THINGS TO SAY ABOUT THIS

GIVE ME A MINUTE

I HAVE TO

GATHER MY THOUGHTS AND MY EMOTIONS

Re: if food be the music of love, 6/6

[anonymous]

Oh god the Captain Novalin reference was brilliant. I just lost it completely there.

Re: if food be the music of love, 6/6

[urban_anchorite]

Thank you so much! If I could've, I would've devolved into fifteen extra pages of Dave and Terezi bitching about hyperglycemia, but that is a story someone else should write for another day.

Re: if food be the music of love, 6/6

[inkpool]

You deserve more intelligent feedback but I am too tired, so for now I will just say that, uh, five minutes ago I was a little black raincloud of unexamined gloom and now I am not. This fic is magic.

Re: if food be the music of love, 6/6

[urban_anchorite]

I can't think of any greater role for a story than to make a crappy mood slightly better. That makes me seriously happy. <3

Re: if food be the music of love, 6/6

[capslockasaurus]

I AM FULL OF SO MANY FEELINGS. THAT WHEN I READ THIS FIC THEY FORCED THEIR WAY FROM MY BODY, ESCAPING IN THE FORM OF WEIRD TEAKETTLE NOISES. seriously fuck anon, between you and CV i have gone from passive interest in these two to shipping it like the USS constitution. i would quote parts back at you but it would exceed lj comment limits. oh my god, these kids, this fic, like a disney princess, you are great.

Re: if food be the music of love, 6/6

[urban_anchorite]

Teakettle noises!

When I was first on the kinkmeme and talking to CV, I shook her with wild eyes and said everyone should ship this ship like the Age of Sail! so anyone we are getting on this boat thrills me no end. I ship a bunch of stuff because this is Homestuck and everyone's shipping graph looks more like a shipping family tree, but Dave/Terezi is dear to my heart. And their ship is the party ship. Take your complimentary party hat.

Thank you so much <3

Re: if food be the music of love, 6/6

[cephiedvariable]

Okay so I have said to you a million and one incoherent blatherings of how much I love this already, but seriously. This is. Just.

1. It's funny. It is goddamn laugh out loud in parts. Not just dialogue, but the actual prose. You have-

2. - nailed the Dave perspective. It's the right balance of guarded and desperately (unfortunately) sentimental. Dave loevs people. With his whole heart. Unironically. But shit at least he's hilarious about it.

3. Your food descriptions here are vivid and leave me both craving sushi and swearing off fast food for just about ever.

4. Terezi wilting is a genuinely heart-breaking thing to watch here. Dave's pangs of longing for her missing spark contrast with her dreary, monochrome existence and make me Q_Q.

5. Most romantic make out scene in the history of make out scenes. Especially the part where Cal was trying to catch Dave get his teenage boob cred.

6. Okay so you wrote the most perfect Dave/Terezi romance here that I just am

so jealous

so full of jealous ragei am making a peanut butter and