41 - 60 of 64 Works in Trace (Homestuck)
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Ordinary is a relative term when you live in a mansion in the desert with a dozen or more strange puppety men.
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It was pretty surprising, all things considered. Slick never really felt anything either way about the rain, about water. Sure, he guessed when his coat got wet in a torrential downpour, it kind of annoyed him, but that wasn’t really on his radar as distressing. Hell, he even liked storms sometimes, liked the flashes of lightning and growl of the brooding heavens, mirroring his usual moodiness. He didn’t mind puddles, or anything stupid like that. Because it would be stupid.
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If there's one thing Doze associates with Midwinter, it's holiday sweaters.
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An assortment of ficlets set in the Troll's universe, most about the carapaces.
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31 short fics written for Snowman Month (August), 2013. Pairings begin based on days (eg 8/1, 8/2, 8/3) and become an assortment of AUs and other pairings beyond 8/15.
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It's difficult to look forward to something when you're certain the outcome will be tragic and there isn't any way you can change it. Take that bullet wound in you're leg you got today, for example, you knew it was coming, you followed your own trail to the exact spot where it would happen but despite knowing that that direction would yield poor results, why didn't you think to simply change the direction? It seems so simple, you think, but when you actually turn your foot away from the orange path in front of you, it always seemed to turn right back somehow.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,834
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 18
- Hits:
- 295
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A Fin briefly shows his appreciation for Trace.
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The Child Was Delicious, Why are you Mad? by AnAngryCat (Gummy_Squid)
Fandoms: Homestuck
09 Jun 2013
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Fin get's upset at Trace for once again disrupting a lovely evening together by not controlling his appetite. Meanwhile, Stitch has no issues with making a grown man cry.
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Fin get's worked up about letting his child-eating boyfriend go out by himself while Die is upset that his feelings for Crowbar are not reciprocated. The two wayward men talk it out over a joint.
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A tale of Schrödinger's cat, what if as Lord English came to the post scratch trolls world he left his worlds most prized possession with the members of the Felt by accident, dooming them all to an assortment of cruel deaths, one after the other? Watch as the puppet moves hand to hand between the gang, leaving each a terrible curse to fall upon.
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Doze has never been entirely comfortable around Trace. It’s not that Trace is a bad guy or anything; he’s not the worst among the Felt. Doze has never felt comfortable among the Striped half of the Felt, most of them either openly hostile or so large that he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. He sticks with the Solids most of the time, and even out of them, he’s not as bad as Itchy or Clover.
It’s just...
It’s just that Trace is kind of... unsettling.
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Clover gets a birthday present he'll never forget.
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With HOMESTUCK SHIPPING OLYMPICS Play At Home Edition, Fanfiction Is More Exciting than Ever. HSO-P@H Edition now has four rounds of the most revolutionary prompt-inspired fanworks developed by HSO Mods that will challenge both the casual and tournament tested fanwork creator. Battle the calender with brain-teasing short stories, then step-up to the challenge and beat your previous collab round! HSO-P@H Edition is enough to keep casual creators engaged for hours and turn serious creators into HSO masters.
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Snowman’s the first person he’s ever really taught how to hustle. He’s pretended to teach women sometimes, mostly as a way of getting in close to them, but he’s never actually had to do more than go through the motions. It’s not all that bad, but Snowman’s a quick learner.
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Prompt:CLICHES
intermission high school AU. purple prose slashfic. mpreg (trollpreg?). pick a fandom cliche and write it. if you do a great job, you'll make me happy. if you do a terrible job you'll make badfic!lover anon happy. you can't fail! -
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Die feels a bit like dying right now, or maybe crawling into a hole and never coming out. This had seemed like exactly the sort of fantasy he wanted to act out, right up until this very moment when it was actually going to happen. It was one thing to think about being restrained and fucked, and something completely different to actually stand in front of all of his co-workers, naked, and terrified.
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“Your plans never work on their own. I always have to fix things you mess up, Slick!” He could feel his forehead heating up. There was no way this would end well for anyone. That didn't bother him as much as maybe it should have. He had some steam to work off too.
“Guys, Deuce isn't back here.” Boxcars was quiet, still likely suffering from the gunshots, but there was a subdued sort of panic in his voice. A strain that Droog didn't like.
If the way Slick went slack meant anything, their leader didn't like the tone or the news either.
Within a few seconds they started up again, took a sharp U-turn on the street, and headed back to The Felt's hideout.
Slick, for once, was silent. It wouldn't last, but it was a welcome relief from the incessant words he'd been spewing.
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Snowman was stuck in her room, pacing like a caged tiger. Even though she was no longer the queen of anything, she was still genetically a Queen. Normally, that affected her very little. The mansion wasn't exactly a hive the way Derse had been, but it did in a pinch, and the Felt weren't drones exactly the way that her teeming millions of citizens had been, but they were good enough that she could feel at ease. Except, as it turned out, they were drone-like enough to finally trigger her desire to mate.
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The Felt indulge Snowman by helping her roleplay one of her darker fantasies. It goes about as smoothly as can be expected when she's relying on a bunch of idiots to take something like this seriously.
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There's not a lot of privacy in the mansion. It's just the way things work out when you live with so many other people. You learn to work around them, find moments here and there, figure out the low-traffic spots where people don't usually go.
The basement is a pretty good place to hide out. There's usually not too many people down there, not unless there's a heatwave going on outside, and and there's a workbench downstairs that you could theoretically be doing work on. Plus, by the time someone opens the cellar door and heads down, you've usually got enough time to get your pants back up and look like you weren't just getting blown by your trail-finding counterpart.