Three Hundred And Sixty Five Ficlets About Homestuck
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The washed-up ex-gamblignant washed ashore the broadside bay, pulled in by the gravity well, tossed aside with reckless indifference like the latest swill. A sword propped her up, connected to a hand, connected to her wrist, and from there, the rest of her body. Rusted cybernetics creaked their last gasps of breath, locking up while her windsacs ground and whirred and clicked, just as used as the rest of her. A scurrybeast's nest of tangled locks buried her face in so much interstellar grime, pockmarks of long-passed neutrino rays like freckles burnt through her skin.
Vriska Serket was not having a good sweep.
1/365
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"Problem clown! What's shaking, greasepaint?" The pixiedust phantom purred perniciously past the nonplussed Pierrot, poking, prodding, pink paws padding at pliant pelt, piggish for particular provender, a powerful pastry provision kept painfully apart from her gaping gob. Gamzee, or A Gamzee, not The Gamzee, the problem clown truly worth of the title, looked up at her in mute disbelief, his eyes wide. She was absolutely certain that he thought he was hallucinating, which was fine with her. She just swatted his hair a couple more times.
2/365
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"Look at it. It's adorable, Kanaya." Rose said, gesturing to the writhing shape sitting in a small basket on their doorstep as it made noises that sounded like some straining shapeshifter attempting to imitate the most cute mewlings of a kitty cat it could manage. If it sounded like that, it was likely because it was exactly that, in fact, but Kanaya was having none of it.
"Rose. I love you so, so much, but it has tentacles and spikes. This is not a cat." Kanaya responded, rubbing her temples with her index fingers.
3/365
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"So, I think it goes like this..." Jade muttered quietly, feeding clumped strands of hair around each other, over under, under over, trying to remember the times in vain that Rose attempted to teach her how to braid challah. Oh lord, if she could barely manage bread dough, what were the odds she could handle hair?
Feferi laughed a little bit, just wiggling at the sensation of her hair being played with. "You know, if you don't know how to braid it, that's okay! I've braided my own hair before. Just need to say the word!"
"No!" Jade responded, screwing her tongue up, sticking it out of the side of her mouth.
4/365
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A Vriska woke up grasping for a sore wrist that wasn't there, phantom pins and ghastly needles in a wraith's arm, buzzing with nonexistent electricity through fictional nerves into her very real, and very pained shoulder. Deep blue scar tissue stretched across what remained of her joint, stretching underneath the flimsy shirt she wore to bed. Some podcaster, that's what they were called, talked about Dungeons and Dragons (TM) on her computer.
Needed to have plenty of noise to sleep. When she had too much to listen to it meant she wouldn't have to deal with her own thoughts, often loud, often overbearing. Her grabbing hand, her good hand, the left one (she was right handed) eventually realized there was nothing there to grab, and she rolled over in the other direction to push herself vertically up out of bed. Ganglia fired with the assumption that their signal would be carried to the correct place, only to grow confused at the lack of proper direction, making her stump buzz with the softest of agonies.
5/365
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Hood used to check for him when he'd pull up flexing
Now he check under the hood before he start the engine
Came out the stash house, something didn't smell right
He on the ground trying to look up in the tail pipe
Mighty fall for a mighty man
Had a manicure, now it's dirt and oil on his hands6/365
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Rosebot Performs The Trolley Problem With A Hologram Of Herself And Also A Hologram Of Nic Cage That Jake English Programmed by Classpectanon
Fandoms: Homestuck
07 Jan 2021
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"It's certainly an interesting conundrum." Rosebot mused quietly, spinning a little 3d diorama of the situation in question with her finger, feeling metal synapses snap into motion behind her transmitted consciousness. A trolleycar barreling towards a line of innocents, in infinite variations. Always Rosebot at the lever, of course, and she was more than intelligent enough to puzzle out, to solve the correct solution every single time.
Pull the lever. 1 < 5. Bam. Ethics won.
But something about that felt too easy.
7/365
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8/365
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By the time she had actually reached the tower of Rose Lalonde, the storm had begun in earnest, soaking through her furs with intense piles of snow, leaving her covered in drowning white. She was quite cold, yes, but better to be cold in clothes like this than cold in her normal billowy greenhouse wear. Approaching the massive double doors with knuckles chattering, she took a deep breath and knocked twice, as politely as she could manage while also making it very clear that she was sinfully cold.
It took a couple of moments. For the next thirty seconds, Jade was gripped with some sort of odd, humorous anxiety, almost ready to begin chuckling at herself. Was the tower empty, and Jade meant to suffer in the cold until she could find a way to knock the door in? Were the stories and tales all falsehoods? Was the dwelling secretly a ruin, or worse, a dungeon?
No. No it wasn't.
9/365
Series
- Part 9 of Three Hundred And Sixty Five Ficlets About Homestuck
- Part 1 of Wolfsbane
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The axe went sailing, sailing, into the edge of the tree with a loud, meaty thwack, always a satisfying sound to hear, gouging out a wedge of wood. Jade put her foot on the bottom of the trunk, blessing the clear weather, and yanked the axe's head out before reeling back and swinging again. Yank, swing, until she carved out the complete chunk. Then, to the other side, tensing her muscles, and letting out a breath-expelling kiai as she twisted violently, ramming the axe into the body of the stiff young pine. Quickly, she tugged the axe out and stepped away as it began to gently twist downwards, creaking with increasing intensity as it collapsed under its own now-tenuous weight, falling to the ground, snapping at the weak points she had introduced.
Then, it was trimming, traveling up and down the tree, chopping off limbs as she saw them with more solid, firm cuts, whack, whack, whack. The actual pine-needly branches were snapped free with her hands after a large enough pile had accumulated, into a second, delightful-smelling pile, Jade's hands sticky with gentle trickles of sap.
10/365
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- Part 2 of Wolfsbane
- Part 10 of Three Hundred And Sixty Five Ficlets About Homestuck
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,540
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 21
- Hits:
- 131
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Jade, John, and Dave were all still sound asleep, of course. John looked especially cute, sleeping in Rose's hairband and with his nails freshly painted, curled up into a little ball, Rose thought, quietly shutting the bedroom door behind her, but she would keep that tidbit for when John woke up. And for anyone else, Jade would probably be a nightmare sleeping partner, the way she sprawled like a dog all over the air mattress, but Rose simply sat down at the edge, pivoted until she was lying back down, turned away from Jade, and let her eyes droop shut. Jade made a snorting little sound and her arm thumped at Rose's head until Rose reached back, grabbed Jade's wrist, and set it down close to her hair.
11/365
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They tried very hard not to cry, wiping their eyes with the back of their wrist as they slowly ripped chunks of onion off the outside of the vegetable and tossing them in the trash. Then, putting it on its (mostly) flattened new top, they noticed a small speckling of brownish dirt on the interior and let out an annoyed grunt, quickly giving the (new) outer layer of the onion a rinsing under the sink, scrubbing the dirt off with their thumb. They tried not to stare too hard at their slowly cracking black nail polish. It definitely needed a refresh, and they definitely owed themselves a manicure after this nightmare.
12/365
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Roxy Lalonde Prepares Mirepoix Slightly More Successfully Than They Chop An Onion by Classpectanon
Fandoms: Homestuck
13 Jan 2021
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Roxy feels like, before they continue on with this adventure, letting you, the intrepid reader intruding in on their dinnertime thoughts, know a couple of things. Well, not quite, they would like you to know exactly one thing: They are not using a recipe, because they are the kind of person that hates recipes. Where's the fun in the recipe? You follow the steps and you probably end up with the correct thing unless you fucked up somewhere in some small imperceptible way that means your product comes out completely busted. There's no experimentation involved! And Roxy was nothing if not a scientist. They knew vaguely about the things that you needed in all of your Cookings, and figured out a meal that would hopefully be impossible to fuck up.
Hopefully.
13/365
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"'Ello, stranger!"
That was about what Dirk's audio sensors picked up before a 300 pound fist went sailing right into his cheek, sending him ass-over-skullplate, tipping off the barstool and then taking it back with him a good five feet.
14/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,278
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 16
- Hits:
- 159
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"Oh, wow." Rose silently mouthed, lips hanging gently agape. Suddenly feeling somewhat vulnerable, she wished she at least got a little made-up for the occasion, so that the hovering ghost in front of her wouldn't have to look at a Lalonde without makeup on. She could feel the judgmental gaze of the ectoplasmic entity hovering about a foot off the floor of the dorm in front of her, watched the TV distort through her translucent body as Rose stared back at the trailing tail that presumably used to be two legs. "Um." She said, trying not to do anything that would piss an actual, real life ghost off. What do you do, Rose? What do you do? Well, she scooted back, got on her knees, and bowed down as politely as she could possibly manage.
15/365
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TT: Ladies, gentlemen, Strider.
TT: I regret to inform you all that as of 10 minues ago I have imbibed the following:
TT: Benedryl,
TT: Nyquil
TT: And a bowl.
TG: Of cereal?
TT: Of the finest Devil's Lettuce, Dave, dearest.
TT: I predict I will lose coherence in approximately seven minutes.
TT: Nevertheless, NaNoWriMo waits for no victim of the common cold.16/365
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The air was thick with grime, the way it was on Mondays like this, when the actuators all failed at once in their "unplanned" spasmodic symphonies. Rose Lalonde always kept a sword on hand, hoping to never need to use it, but on days like this there was always an air of inevitability.
Mondays, huh?
17/365
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"L'Chaim!" Rose shouted with uncharacteristic excitement, tinking a glass full of Sprite against the side of the pool chair lacking a pool to dive in. "Here's to never having to deal with high school ever again."
"Is that a wine glass full of Sprite." Dave stated breathlessly, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the wooden floor of Rose's deck, across from John, while Jade was busy packing a bowl because of course she was. Growing new and interesting kinds of plants was her bread and butter, so why would drugs be out of the question there? Rose raised the most curious eyebrow back at Dave.
18/365
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When Jade Harley fell asleep, she often dreamed of falling. Tonight was no different.
There was a cloud, or several, combed together into large, billowing cushions, hovering on the waves of the endless-eternal ocean that dominated her thoughts. The sort of watery abyss that never went away, even when she woke up, where grasping, semisolid fingers reached up into the surface of her thoughts. She often dreamed about falling into this immense pile, of bounce-like cumulonimbi that would slow her down just enough that her subsequent impact into the water would be slowed to the point of barely stinging.
19/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 888
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 10
- Hits:
- 86
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"Jesus, fuck!" Sollux yelled, jumping up in fright at the spectral figure looming over his shoulder. Yes, he had the vaguest sense that someone was behind him, and yes, he understood the innate risks that came with showing up at a graveyard at night as a spiritual medium, particularly one just awakening to their powers, but it still took some getting used to seeing actual, honest to god ghosts. Particularly pretty ghost girls with their bedraggled hair draped over their somber faces like curtains, tattered rags hanging off loose, pale, translucent skin. "Scared the fucking shit out of me. Fuck. Jesus."
"Can you chill?" The girl whispered, her voice a cold winter wind on Sollux's pierced ears, making the various bits and bobs of metal ache in his skin. That was a side effect nobody had told him about. He adjusted his glasses, shutting his "sees-living-people" eye so he could take a good look at her.
20/365
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"So I said to the guy, "That's not a skeleton, that's my wife!"" John shouts to a table full of roaring adventurers, howls of laughter filling the tavern. One of them passes a flagon of ale to the armor-clad warrior, and John gives them a little two-fingered salute, grabbing it by the handle and looking down into the fuzzy foam.
The door gets kicked open by a boot clad in rusted, dented iron, a fellow knight dragging a broken bastard sword behind him, snapped cleanly in half from the tip down. Sir Strider lifts his visor up and then pulls back the hood of his coif. His presence a mild deterrent, a battle-worn body carrying itself across the tavern's floor and sitting across the table from John, shoving a small dwarven smith out of the way (he scrabbles angrily but slinks away into the crowd). Sir Strider pulls his sword up, still heavy despite its decapitation, and plants it firmly in the table. "You. Knight Egbert."
John musses their hair a little bit, pulling out a lengthy warpick and dropping it on the table in return, causing it to rattle. "That's me, alright. To whom do I owe the honor?"
21/365
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- Part 21 of Three Hundred And Sixty Five Ficlets About Homestuck
- Part 2 of The Four Thrones
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Rose sat on a small recliner in the stormy innards of Lalonde Manor's foyer, snow swirling about in an endless eddy outside, accumulating in sheer walls of white against the windows, wicking away all visibility of the outside world. Somewhere, far in the distance, a bolt of lightning hit a tree of some piny persuasion, splitting it in half down the middle with a smoldering cry and a loud, muffled crack, every errant noise from bursting hydrogen particles swallowed up by the pillowy snow. Rose didn't even hear it hit -- she knew, intellectually, that the intense blizzard outside was merging with a thunderstorm, producing disastrously dangerous inclement weather, but surrounded by all this natural soundproofing, she was safe in her home.
22/365
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Or: A Knight-Errant, a Naive Squire, A Brusque Tinkeress, and a Snarky Wizard walk into a bar, start a bar fight, proceed to get kicked out, and then accidentally topple the burgeoning empire of a corrupt politician or two before going on a vacation with some monster-slaying.
Featuring literally as many Homestuck characters as I can fit.
Temporarily on hiatus due to IRL! Updates will return ASAP
(Technically 23/365)Series
- Part 23 of Three Hundred And Sixty Five Ficlets About Homestuck
- Part 1 of The Four Thrones
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The sunset from the tower was always the prettiest place on the island to watch, in Jade's opinion. It beat out almost every other sunset, except maybe the caldera, and pretty much nothing else. The way the light filtered into her room, golden as it was, painting everything in ethereal yellows and oranges and reds and maybe a couple of pinks or two, made her day instantly better.
This was good, because her frustration with tuning her bass was rapidly making it much worse.
24/365
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There was sunlight, as there typically was during the sun-rising hours (and some of the sun-setting ones too), in the Egbert household. Gloriously dimming sunlight, filtering through both a layer of clacky, plastic shades, the kind that required you to twist a curtain rod in order to set just right, the kind that you could never tell with a glance "does it block more light facing completely up or completely down?", and a thin, blue curtain, speckled with bright green ghost slimes. Straight from Ghostbusters, even, a birthday gift for a very special birthday kiddo.
25/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 581
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 11
- Hits:
- 75
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We take it for granted today, but a single Dorito has more extreme nacho flavor than a peasant in the 1400s would get in his whole lifetime.
Dave reached his hand inside and grabbed a particularly triangular chip. It was natural, of course, to have the big boys this early, slightly curled at the tips, when you have a freshly opened bag like he did, the loud, ripping-crinkling of the bag's plastic still ringing in his ears like the echo of a gunshot.
26/365
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Karkat was always loud, at all times of day. It was perhaps the one constant to him, besides the presence of throat lozenges that many friends swore up and down would some day destroy his throat, but the moment never came, and he was 13, so who gave a shit? There were more important things to do, like curse at his new computer whenever it failed to deliver a message to his Discords. He sat there, watching the message remain obstinately grey, chugging and chugging, as the Fucks and Shits grew more intense and frequent, to a voracious fever pitch.
27/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 682
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 13
- Hits:
- 77
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Dirt - A very beautiful thing.
28/365
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Did you know that getting into bed as a disabled person was surprisingly hard? This was a pretty true fact across most disabilities, but it was especially true when you had a wheelchair and that was about the extent of the accommodations your parental unit could afford. Still, if you were Tavros Nitram, and a dog named Horsearoni, you made things work the best you could. Life was already hard enough to worry about things like "Being pessimistic" - you could approach this sort of existence with only the sort of excited optimism that a 13 year old without any of their confidence destroyed yet could.
29/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 699
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 25
- Hits:
- 106
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Obviously not, stupid. What is this, a movie? Fuck outta here.
30/365
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Nepeta stared at it like an old friend, or a mortal enemy - the tree in her backyard, taunting her since birth. As far as she could remember, this large tree, with its perfect, climbable branches, its particularly thick, grippable bark, its looming curls and ample shade, always daring the active girl to climb, ever higher, until she could some day reach the top of it.
Whenever she tried in the past, it was always a hair short for her. Just quite not able to jump. Just quite not strong enough to haul herself up on one of the larger branches. Dinnertime, honey, we're making steak (her favorite), and it was by the wayside for homework or sleep or fanfiction or whatever, until she remembered again that she had to climb it in a couple of weeks from then.
Not today!
END OF MONTH 1 31/365
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Ah, a warm summer day. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and a light breeze ruffled the flowers and hedges and other such topiaries in Kanaya's mother's garden, all freshly trimmed. A pair of hedge clippers lay, useless without a hand or two to wield them, at the base of a nearby tree, and one end of a hammock tied around its trunk, higher up. Then, the other end, tied to another nearby, slightly further away tree, to bridge the gap, forming a complete hammock. And on this hammock, enjoying the weather in a most un-vampirely fashion, was one Kanaya Maryam.
32/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 616
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 60
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Look. Some days, you get home from school, you shuffle your way to your first-floor bedroom while your high powered lawyer mom isn't home, and you get a little urge to beat the stuffing out of your stuffed animals for crimes, real or imagined, that they may or may not have committed.
Don't we all get like this every so often?
33/365
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It was a beautiful day outside, very sunny and warm, almost vivacious. This meant that the blackout curtains in Vriska's bedroom were all drawn as tightly as possible to lock out every scrap of light she could possibly manage to avoid. The only light necessary was the whining glare from her computer screen. Nobody ever wanted to wake up at 10 AM during summer vacation, right?
34/365
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Equius let loose a tittering, sensible little chuckle, flicking down his phone with one thumb, nail neatly trimmed for the occasion. Oh, yes, it was summertime, and that meant it was time for jubilant vacationing, traveling down from the dreary mountains with his father and to the less dreary shores of... New Jersey! The water was a beautiful shade of grey-brown, the clouds were accumulating in the sky in a way that likely indicted an incoming storm, and it was also jellyfish breeding season, as people tended to visit New Jersey during. What a lovely state.
Thankfully, Equius didn't give a shit about swimming.
35/365
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There was just something special about convenience stores. You truly didn't know joy until your dad gave you a twenty dollar bill, dropped you off in front of the Wawa (that's like a Sheetz, but it doesn't suck), and then went to go fill up his gas while telling you to just go nuts. Truly, this day, of all days, was what summer vacation was made for. Gamzee wobbled quietly into the Wawa, not yet having hit the growth spurt that would eventually come to define his height - no, he was still an adorable fun-sized little human, gently bouncing back and forth with each step.
36/365
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There was just something about being on a fishing boat, in the ocean, with the shore just barely close enough to be seen peeking out close to the horizon like a hiding child assuming they can't be spotted up during hide and seek. What was less a thing that there was "just something" on was being on a fishing boat full of old people, but if you were Eridan Ampora, this was about once a month during summer, so you just kind of made do and appreciated the afternoon out on the ocean.
The air was cool, unsurprisingly a little wet, and very, very strongly saline. It was ruining Eridan's hair, which was perhaps the worst part about it.
37/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 520
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 66
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The sun outside was beautiful, loud bright yellow light streaming onto every nook and crevice of the world that orbited it, burning light into all the concrete and asphalt. The sun was an effervescent, elated thing, making the air warm, feeding plants, helping stir currents, powering the occasional battery (although it could always power more), and generally speaking, being awesome. Feferi was a huge, huge fan of the sun. If she had it her way, she would... Realistically, change nothing, because even at the age of 13 she knew that everything on earth was a delicate balancing act between them and the energy received from the sun. It was so gorgeous outside, she wanted nothing more than to go outside and lounge around, baking in the sun, enjoying the heat and also her home's private pool and also maybe the aquarium as well.
38/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 572
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 57
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The snow fell gently around suburbia in delicate flakes, collecting in impressive mounds, hardening into thick, white stone that punched above its softness class. It was a frigid evening outside in Washington, perhaps one of the most enduring snow"storms" they had in years. Not a particularly hard snowstorm, or dangerous, but just continuous, seeming to last for weeks on end. If Dad Egbert was a more curious person then it's possible he would've examined this more deeply, worried about it, and let it consume his thoughts. But, safe and secure in the knowledge that his kid was safe in New York with some friends, away from the snow, he instead took the time to take some him time.
Thin trails of smoke wafted upwards from his pipe, while he sat on the front porch, rocking back and forth in a wooden rocking chair like a nerd.
39/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 540
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 263
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Mom sighed wistfully, staring outwards at the infinite white abyss climbing further and further up the basement windows. With her daughter stowed away safe and sound at a friend's house in Washington, this meant that, for the first time in years since having her, Mom Lalonde had a Shabbat evening to herself. Normally, the candles, the prayer, the yadda yadda yadda, they got to do that all upstairs, in the kitchen. Together! Family-like. It was great, she really loved it, even as her little Rosie got steadily more into her "teenage atheist" phase (look, who could blame her? Mom had the same thing, once upon a time). It was their one little thing of family bonding that they could both Really Get Into.
Plus, wine!
40/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 529
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 11
- Hits:
- 67
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Bark bark!
Just kidding. Wouldn't that be really funny though if we did the entire narration in dog language? No? Okay, we'll translate for you then.
41/365
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The man who would be known, when she could speak, as "Grandpa Harley", was, in all respects, a doddering old fool.
42/365
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Bro Strider was definitely a man who did things and earned a living the same way you and I did things and earned a living. Sure, that living was earned by decapitating puppets with grisly traps at the unwitting behest of his younger brother (technically son, in the eyes of the state... charge? whatever you called the person you were the legal guardian of), and then recording those decapitations and selling them to a surprisingly lucrative audience of several hundred whales, but, well, that was just capitalism, wasn't it? Supply and demand. Someone needed that puppet smut, god damnit, and Bro was going to tap that unfulfilled market while also living off a very old man's inheritance money that Bro was given for some patents he had developed in his 20s.
That is why Bro was instead spending the day shredding ass at a skatepark.
43/365
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Did you know there is a man on the moon?
44/365
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Baking was hard work, and it never got much easier. If anything, as Jane got older, and transitioned from, for the most part, boxed cake mixes and then to trying to bake her own cakes and then back again, it just got harder. And branching out from confectioneries into things like bread? Forget about it - challah, rye, sourdough, this shit was hard! It required getting up at early hours if you wanted to eat it at any reasonable hour, even during summer vacation. Like, yeah, you could eat at night, but that wasn't great for your waistline, and Jane was trying to watch her figure!... Kind of! Not really.
45/365
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Roxy leaned on her bed, quietly staring forward at her laptop screen with a mild sort of smile painted across her face. Not any sort of big smile like she had just discovered something revolutionary, or even an open-mouthed grin like someone had just told her something she really wanted to hear. A slight, contented, kind of bored little smile, the kind you got to wear on your face when nothing particularly great was happening, but nothing bad was happening either, and it was all just sort of dust in the wind.
46/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 603
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 95
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It was such a beautiful day. Outside, small birds chirped while larger birds let out that angry sort of "Tseeeeer!" noise they let out whenever they felt the need to swoop down on something and kill it. A small rabbit hopped its way across Jake's grandmother's garden, onto Jake's foot, sitting on it for as long as it decided to - at least, until Jake moved his foot a tiny bit and it ran away, expecting pain and predation. Somewhere, several flowers bloomed, they grew, they stretched out towards the onlooking spring sun, hungry for photosynthesis.
47/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 667
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 56
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Sometimes, when Dirk was distressed, which was frequently (even if he never showed it), he liked to ascend to the roof of his apartment complex. Oh, no, nobody should be up there, but Dirk was enough of a pal around house to the landlord, helping with small menial tasks and donating the occasional robot here and there, that he let him have a key anyway. The smallest part of Dirk, small enough that it could really be stomped on flat, always told him "Do something awful with the keys, you can get into the roof", but it was always yelled back down. Dirk wasn't the kind of person to do something awful with someone's trust like that, and even if he did... well, it was just roof access. What could he do, grow weed?...
Yeah, probably.
He didn't, though.
48/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 658
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 10
- Hits:
- 85
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"I mean, I just can't imagine a world in which, realistically, the chicken came first. Unless we're talking about specifically "Chicken's" eggs, and not the concept of eggs in general, in which case, fuck you, be clearer next time, asshole who invented this stupid hypothetical." Dave said, angrily bouncing back and forth on his heels while John set a plastic bag down on the ground for the two of them. Dave stared off into the distance, bushy blonde brows furrowed in a significantly larger fury display than such a silly topic probably warranted - nevertheless, fury is what he possessed.
"Plutarch, I think." John chimed in helpfully, swiping across Wikipedia on their phone.
"Right, Plutarch these balls, then."
49/365
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"I don't know, it really depends on what sort of catgirl we're talking about, in my eyes." John said, sitting on Rose's bed, quietly bouncing up and down on their butt. Not for any particular reason - they weren't super excited, or jazzed out on one of the many Monster energy drinks scattered around the room (that would be Rose, currently jazzed out on aforementioned drinks). Just sort of... bouncing. "Like, am I just me but I have cat ears, a tail, and going "nya" a lot?"
50/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 682
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 21
- Hits:
- 150
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Absolutely nothing felt better than running on empty.
51/365
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"Becquerel likes to teleport into nuclear silos so he can eat their uranium."
John did not have the available liquid to do a spit take, so instead they just blew a raspberry of disbelief instead. "He what?" John asked, eyes nearly bulging out of their head.
52/365
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"Frankly, I don't see what's so miraculous about it. I've had plenty of whipped creams from a variety of sources before - on occasion, I do like to dabble in the art of confectionery and create my own." Rose said, quietly tapping away at her old 3ds, lying down on Dave's stack of mattresses, occasionally rolling onto her stomach in a way that indicated a deeper desire for relaxation than what the stiff springs could provide to her. "It's just cream and sugar and some vanilla in a stand mixer, and then you let that run until it incorporates a large enough volume of air to develop into whipped cream. Nothing particularly outrageous about that that would require one to pay exorbitant prices for whipped cream in a tub. I fail to see the appeal."
53/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 806
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 14
- Hits:
- 111
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For their part, they were doing a very good job staying out of trouble in the muddy creek, splashing about in all the water, looking for one thing in particular, a thing that Jade knew for a fact was on this island. She had caught many before, and even had to chastise Becquerel when he kept eating all the venomous ones because she really liked picking them up, with gloves. But we are not here to think Becquerel's doggy thoughts, we are here to watch two girls go frog hunting in a muddy creek on a tropical-ish island, and that is what we will now proceed to do.
54/365
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Bro did not, generally speaking, have a problem with weed getting smoked in his vicinity, or by his little brother. It was whatever. Kid's sixteen, let him smoke some doobies, who gives a shit. The things he did have problems with, however, was when there were two people there, and they were in his apartment, because that meant lots of weed was getting smoked in the place where he liked to sleep. A little? That was fine. A lot? No bueno. Anti-bueno. The opposite of bueno, in fact.
So, that meant they were smoking on the roof.
55/365
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Don't try this one at home, kids.
56/365
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The basement in Lalonde Manor was cool and dark, courtesy of its proximity to a literal waterfall, but also courtesy of the fact that Rose had turned the air conditioning down low because she liked it frigid at all times. This meant, of course, that the lanky beanpole named Sollux Captor was bundled up in several layers of hoodies. On a typical day, his cold temperatures meant maybe one hoodie with a t-shirt would suffice, but since it was at Lalonde Manor, that meant two plus a winter coat over top, as was necessary for air like this.
Cold and dry. "Chapstick?" Rose offered, passing a hand backwards towards Sollux.
57/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 615
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 13
- Hits:
- 101
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Some days, there were days in which you had a desire for certain kinds of foods and feelings - the sensation, for example, of a July barbecue. Unfortunately, Dave lived in a small apartment in a high-rise in Texas, did not go outside enough to know any of his neighbors that may have had a grill, and also, it was in the middle of winter break, and not the summer, when July barbecues were known by most to happen.
Still, you could fake it admirably with some time, effort, and a gas stove.
58/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 757
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 12
- Hits:
- 98
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Karkat's comfortable suburban home was nothing particularly interesting - it was, perhaps in all ways necessary, the definition of "tepid" when applied to an architectural construct. It had a number of walls, with which warm air was contained in the winter on days like today, and it had a roof, which usually prevented water from leaking in, and it had computers, three total, with which the house's inhabitants completed tasks and performed the routines of their daily lives. A cantankerous father who frequently got angry at sportsball and his fantasy teams, the fairly obnoxious college student who thankfully remained shut away in his bedroom for the duration of the visit, and Karkat, who was Karkat.
59/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 725
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 11
- Hits:
- 79
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There was something particularly enjoyable, soothing, even, about the act of consuming tea. Not consuming tea in a feverish rush, keeping it warm in a thermos while you jetted to work or sat down for lunch with a strict time crunch pressing at the back of your head, nor consuming tea when you were ill, with a drop of honey and a splash of lemon to make your throat feel less like shit. Or when you go to a MacDognals and order the biggest iced tea slash sweet tea they have available, and really, that's barely even tea. Like, yeah, it's made of tea, but it's not... tea tea. It is a sugar beverage that is tea flavored, and you have to drink it in a flash otherwise the ice will melt and water it down.
60/365
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It felt like winter vacation had only lasted a day and a half, whizzing by with all the speed of a particularly quick moving animal at sustained speeds, or perhaps some kind of vehicle that could move far faster than any animal, but for longer periods of time. That being said, if there was one vehicle that it had not moved quickly by, it would be the school bus currently trapping Kanaya Maryam, Dave Strider, and a handful of other kids who all went to the same school and were currently coming back from their day visit to Six Flags.
61/365
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One of the best parts about living in what was, relatively speaking, the middle of nowhere meant that most adjacent towns to you were similar levels of middle of nowhere-ness. Some of them were even more middle-of-nowhere. Some of them were even less, producing a steady gradient of somewheres that steadily became more and more somewhere until they became a middle-of-somewhere, and from there, evolved towns, cities, and the metropolitan idea of a clustered crowd. But still, that left a steady gradient of nowheres, little abandoned places scattered across the world to find like tschotchkes while the humans previously inhabiting them migrated from somewhere to larger somewhere.
62/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 732
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 14
- Hits:
- 77
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It was nice whenever Vriska's mom wasn't home, which was infrequent, but gladly welcomed on the occasions in which it happened. It was even better when those occasions overlapped with the rarer ones in which Vriska had a friend over, like prime numbers running in sequence until they met their common multiple and diverged again infinitely into the void. Mom was out doing whatever it was she did when she was out, Jade Harley was in doing whatever it was she did when she was in, and Vriska, well, Vriska had one arm to use.
63/365
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There was something soothing about watching the fruits of one's labor amble about, childishly, tripping over small obstacles and ambulating in all the ways that a living being notably did not ambulate. Still, every little mechanism worked the way they were intended to, with a little push-kick thingamabob to get the boy to hop over very slight gaps, inclines, things that could prevent it from moving. Robust tires ganked from some LEGO model that helped it move over most forms of surface that it was intended to move over. More LEGO armor hiding delicate circuitry. The "Untitled Robotics Class Project MK 2" was ready for action, readily beeping as it bumped into every little thing in John's living room. That one was John's suggestion, a little sensor that would make a chime whenever it bumped into something.
64/365
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The sun had long since finished her elaborate descent below the horizon, leaving the local scrapyard in an orange and pink infused haze, like someone had dumped a fruity margarita over everything, coating it in a sticky, sweet, alcoholic haze. That being said, the libation of choice today wasn't alcohol, albeit not due to lack of access, but instead, the two teenagers were busy smoking about as much weed as they were humanly capable of inserting into their bodies through oral inhalation. Dave was busy working a bowl he had brought with him, carelessly lighting it up and inhaling and coughing and hacking it out, occasionally reaching down to take a sip of water. Gamzee was far less accepting of the frilly glassware, instead just bringing an entire cigarette case packed full of joints and burning through them as quickly as he could.
65/365
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Rose quietly bounced up and down on her bed with slightly manic energy flowing through her veins like so much lightning, making her fingertips crackle and buzz while nature documentaries played on her laptop screen. The air outside the house was her favorite kind of air, cold and salty, tasting of the ocean despite it being so far away, and absolutely drenched in rain. Eridan, her new friend from school, was busy also watching the laptop, sitting in a pile of scarves, enraptured by the vision of snails moving across the screen while his nails dried off. They had just done each other's nails, so, it only felt right to recline and relax for a bit and enjoy mollusks.
66/365
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Each star in the sky was a twinkling, formless mass of fire thousands if not millions of light years away, staring down at the world through the abyss of time. Some of them almost certainly were dead by now, but with the light taking its own, finite time to reach us, they were held in stasis, dead until we discover otherwise. This, at least, was what Jade believed, based on the current mode of scientific thought and consensus, that the things she looked up at from within her sleeping bag were blazing miasmas of incandescent plasma.
67/365
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Tavros Nitram slept on a pile of stuffed animals, this much was a true fact. It was something intimately intertwined with his soul and being, a thing he took sort of outsizedly seriously for how much of a low-stakes matter it was. Pillows were awkwardly shaped and not at all friendly, big rectangles of cloth without much soul or verve to them. Stuffed animals, though, they were huggable, friendly, cuddleable, they made perfect partners for a good snooze and a big hearty snznzzzzzghhhhhnnnh sort of snore.
68/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 730
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 9
- Hits:
- 82
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"Hey, remember that frog bitch? That son of a gun really loved his... feels." Dave languidly drawled, his accent unmistakable when pitched next to the droll, anodyne monotone of Sollux Captor. The night was long and full of Doritos brand Nacho Cheese chips - far more extreme Nacho Cheese flavor than any medieval peasant had ever tasted in their entire life.
69/365 (nice)
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Karkat whistled quietly at the dizzying sight in front of him as he stepped inside past the sliding glass doors leading to Lalonde Manor's interior. It was a distinct oddity in architecture, very clearly an ostentatious display of wealth in cubic, semi-brutalist style, far from the gaudy, classical Victorian manse one would associate with the term "Manor", but when you gave it an ounce of thought, there was very little else it could be described as. Outside the glass windows, a roiling snowstorm began to whistle its way across the air, starting in small little flurries and rapidly picking up steam, depositing small coatings of snow on the trees and the buildings, ounce by pitch white ounce.
70/365
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Nepeta and Jade both looked at each other over the kitchen table, each one blinking slowly, while Nepeta's mom popped the front door open with her foot and then kicked it shut behind her with a loud, rattling slam, the fine mesh second door swinging itself out and then back in, vibrating rapidly until it settled and clicked into place. She carried with her a most prodigious bounty upon request, several brown paper bags slightly damp with grease and full of White Castle hamburger sliders, which she cheerfully deposited onto the kitchen table. "Remember, you two, all things in moderation!" She instructed cheerfully before disappearing into her bedroom. Jade and Nepeta, eyes slightly bloodshot, stared and blinked at each other slowly, in the way that a cat that was fond of someone might.
71/365
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Kanaya's home was a nice place to be, especially during Spring Break, where the climate was not tragically awful. In summer, the tall, narrow house she lived inside of became an oven, baking thoroughly anyone trapped inside during its dry spells, and in the winter, all the heat escaped in perpetual lip-crackingly chill weather and dry air. But in the spring, and, to a lesser extent, the autumn? Well, it was a nice place to be there and then, when the heat wasn't too bad, the air wasn't too dry, and there wasn't gobs of coursework to be doing instead of the important thing, which was relaxing and enjoying your free time.
72/365
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Terezi's bedroom was the same sort of environment it always had been since she was a child - as far as she could remember, it was always piles of stuffed animals stacked as high as physics would allow but with the baroque sensibilities of the only child of a high-powered lawyer combined with such amusingly childish remnants of comfort. This meant that, along with the stuffed animals, there were also two large bookshelves stacked high with various legal texts of varying skill levels, from Freshman Legal Student to Graduate Legal Student, all in encouragement from her mother to learn the trade and join the family business. As of age 16, whether or not Terezi would go for it was sort of up in the air, but she would definitely never give up the stuffed animals.
73/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 754
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 12
- Hits:
- 82
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Vriska's bedroom was a cold, idle place, buffeted by air conditioned wind and an open window and two large box fans (one of which was strapped to two air filters just to make the air a little better, the other of which had a wet towel folded through a drying rack in order to keep the air a little more humid, pulling moisture out and pumping it through), along with another smaller, but more powerful fan situated on a desk in order to stay pointed at her face while she slept. The combination of winds created a zephyrous maelstrom of eddying currents, preventing any sort of loose papers from situating themselves perfectly upon a desk, crawling an inch or two in one direction and then an inch or two in another as the slightest movements in Vriska's body shifted the blowing wind in an imperceptible fashion, creating knock-on ripple effects that distorted the vortex, disrupting the calm, comfortable equilibrium until it settled again into another calm, comfortable equilibrium.
74/365
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"I think by any logical definition we can plainly see that a centaur is a kind of furry." Equius said, calmly and succinctly explaining his point. His bedroom, a junkyard of abandoned and broken projects, demolished machines, snapped circuit-boards and frayed wires, piled up in a corner in case he "needed them for later". A monument to creative languor, a thousand and one robots created, scrapped, and then created again, and then scrapped again, each one becoming more of a patchwork shell of mechanisms and parts while Equius rested upon an old racecar bed that he refused to move out of lest it ruin his routine, instead plopping his feet upon a stolen leather ottoman from the living room while he slept and rapidly outgrew his mattress. Not really stolen insofar as he was entirely allowed, and encouraged, to do so by a very permissive father, but he still liked to present it as such. "It has all the taxonomical prerequisites - humanoid in shape and with animalistic features."
75/365
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Gamzee's home was not a very comfortable place to reside in, despite its richness, its creature comforts. Massage chairs in every room, heated blankets in every outlet, gigantic televisions, unicycles and clown horns, all the things a burgeoning young clown might want to have readily available for their consumption. Bottles of Faygo, some empty, most not, littered the place with reckless abandon. A fine layer of dust covered most rooms, telling its own little story, with the study in the back of the house the dustiest and most storied of all. But today, we are not here to dwell on abandonment, the gift-wrapped bags of trash waiting to be removed from the domicile, the recently-emptied dumpster that would fill to full and empty again - today, we are here to discuss pie.
76/365
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"Anyone ever tell you that your bedroom looks like the inside of a lighthouse?" Dave observed, leaning back on Eridan's bed, staring up at the window on the excessively-high ceiling, especially for a bedroom. "And by that I mean that the rest of your house looks like the inside of a lighthouse?"
"No, I don't think anyone's ever told me that." Eridan replied.
77/365
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There was an aquarium near Feferi's summer home, and it was full of fish. It was also the wintertime, which meant that Feferi should probably be in one of her winter homes instead, but this one had the closest aquarium (all of them had one within an hour's drive at most), and her new friend from school just positively insisted on it, which meant that this was the place they would be hanging at. There was nothing spectacular about this aquarium, and by aquarium standards it was spectacularly mundane, but the less time spent in the car with Feferi's mother, the better.
Rose and Feferi both sat on the floor, each one cross-legged, watching a gigantic tank of water.
78/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 680
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 11
- Hits:
- 58
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Aradia's home in the middle of approximately nowhere was an excellent place to be when it rained, because when it rained in Virginia, it did, in fact, pour. Buckets and buckets of water being absolutely dumped down the sides of her home, futzing up the internet just a little bit, making doing homework more of a chore than it needed to be, even with a friend at her side. It continued to rain throughout the entirety of the night, a torrential downpour of violent pitter-patter striking the windows with all the intensity of a hailstorm, kicking up grass and dirt from the acres of open field surrounding the property.
79/365
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"Do you ever have a phrase that gets, like, stuck incessantly in your head?" John asked quietly from their place under the covers. It was a rainy, dreary spring break Sunday at the Egbert residence, the sort of rainy, dreary spring break Sunday that you typically wanted to spend purely indoors with a friend of yours. Sollux, thankfully, lived relatively close by, so unlike most of John's friends, he could be driven in rather than flown in, meaning there was a whole lot less stress to jam pack a bunch of fun activities into a short period of time. Plus, it was fucking storming outside. Nobody would even be able to get from the garage door to Dad's car without getting drenched from head to toe, who would want to go and do "activities" when you could just play video games together instead?
80/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 677
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 12
- Hits:
- 81
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Karkat's bedroom was dark, dreary, slightly chill, just the way he liked it, with the humidifier running and a small desk fan situated near the humidifier to blow it directly into his face whenever he was on the computer. That sort of particulate distilled water spritzed itself carelessly across the surface of his grumpy little squished-up face, evaporating quickly, providing the same sort of cooling that a thin sheen of sweat might on a hot summer day, but all the time, whenever Karkat wanted it (which was always, because he was always overheating - maybe if you took off that damn sweater, his dad always said). Today, that dusting of nanoscopic dihydrogen monoxide aerosol was divided amongst two, rather than the typical one, with Dave lounging on a yoga ball that he stole from Kankri's room.
81/365
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The observatory was always a pleasant place to be at night, at any time of night, in any kind of night. From the dreariest rainstorm to the lightest drizzle to the heaviest snowfall, and, on one occasion, a literal tornado, it was nice to be able to have a place where you could stare into the stars through an absurdly overpowered telescope that you really didn't understand the need to own, but, evidently, your mother did, and so you have a science-grade telescope in your home for some reason. Even when the pitter-patter of rain cast a thin vaseline sheen across it, you could look into the sky and see twice as many stars as usual, splitting across its surface, scattering into beautiful prism-lights of universal saturation. This meant, of course, that it and its hearty internet connection were an excellent place to keep watch of a cat, for reasons that made excellent sense to Rose Lalonde and precisely nobody else.
82/365
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There was a new tchotchke in Jade's home tower, a new little thing (or not so little) to burn days away studying nuclear physics in front of. Because sometimes, your deceased grandpa's will dictates that you be built a zoo exhibit sized frog enclosure on a specific day of your life and suddenly there's contractors in your home and they show you the document and it is for real legit, so you sulk upstairs in your bedroom until there's a new frog enclosure on the 17th floor, and sometimes... that doesn't happen. This was the latter kind of day, the kind of day where that sort of thing doesn't happen, but, it was a couple of weeks after the first kind of day did, in fact, happen. And now there was a frog enclosure. Whoop-dee doo.
83/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 905
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 49
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There's a thousand and one ways to describe a snowstorm, depending on a million and one different factors. The temperature, the wind, the size of each snowflake, how they stuck to the ground and the trees and the buildings - or maybe not at all, stacking up until gravity and weight compressed them down into thick bricks of ice. Sometimes, the snow was so thick swirling in the air that you couldn't see a thing three feet past your face, and sometimes it was thin and loose, just coming down in mass quantities, letting you see acres of sunlit white in an overcast day. And sometimes, the quality of the snow was irrelevant to the way it blanketed the world, muffling sound, canceling school days, providing a delight for both dogs and humans alike.
84/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 674
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 69
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It was an absolute bitch of a day in Houston Texas, the kind of bitch of a day that makes you pour all your sweat out in a gross heap like you're a towel that's been accidentally chucked into the dishwasher and needs a good wringing or two, as happened to Dave at least twice a month. The throwing a towel into the dishwasher thing, not himself being chucked into the dishwasher. He tried that once. Never again. Still, the air was thick with moisture, an uncomfortable muggy mess that visitors like Vriska weren't used to, the kind of uncomfortable muggy mess that precipitated tank-tops as a necessity, and, in her case, a parasol.
85/365
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"I didn't take you for the Justice type. Figured it wasn't quite your speed." Rose said, quietly looking around, admiring the interior of the lavish personal gym in Equius's quite large home estate. It was stately - princely, even, with high ceilings that let the noise from the expensive surround sound speakers bounce around quietly, mirrors all around to ensure one could get an even view of everything from any angle, all the kinds of various exercise equipment a human being could ever want. Racks of... things the name of which Rose was not aware of. Dumbbells, now that she recognized. A yoga ball. Truly, Equius's home had it all.
86/365
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Jade's island, despite, or perhaps because of its peculiar climate, was full of many different little places where one could secret themselves to in the case of an emergency, or needing a certain kind of film set, or any sort of situation at all that called for it, really. If you knew where to look, you could even find this perfect little ditch for shooting, sandy and quiet with mounds of dirt and stable ground and not a lot of wind. It was quiet and calm, watched over by a silent canine guardian the same way any other part of the island was watched over when Jade was there, because his job was to make sure she never got into any trouble, ever, no matter what.
87/365
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The sun beat down heavily upon the pool in what could charitably be called Feferi's "back yard" in loud, sonorous waves, thrumming like a heartbeat in the sky, a pulsing mass of incandescent plasma casting his or her bright white light upon the Earth that orbited it. The heat, too, arrived in waves, along with the light, each photon a direct shot from the ball overhead, imparting its thermal energies down onto the ground below. White concrete was the most effective in guarding from this summer heat, but even then, it was not something one wanted to experience barefooted, outside of the simmering edges of the pool where the water had splashed over the sides.
88/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 699
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 12
- Hits:
- 89
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There was something about the lingering scent of formaldehyde that smelled like home, in the strangest of all possible ways, to Dave Strider. And not just formaldehyde, but amber, crystal, glass, any way that something could be preserved and frozen in time forever, it felt like home to the slightly morbid teenager, buoying large dreams of archeological finds and paleontological greatness as a child. Now, a stack of polaroids sat frozen in time at his work desk, objects of additional affection. A makeshift darkroom in the unused closet, that maybe if he could capture everything in a still moment of time, he could keep the fondest memories alive forever.
Aradia was not so highbrow. She just thought dead things were neat.
89/365
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Tavros's living room was about the same kind of environment as his bedroom, made for maximum comfort and maximum accessibility within the confines of what his parent could afford. Wide space between the two couches, a coffee table high enough for his wheelchair to slip under, plenty of space for Horsearoni to get his long snouted zoomies out on, and stuffed animals in place of any sort of actual throw pillows. The kitchenette once bore an island, but that had been ripped out long ago to give Tavros room to wheel around and make his own food, even spending a not insignificant paycheck to get one of those slide-out microwaves that could be accessed from wheelchair-high rather than having to try and get up on his wobbly feet.
90/365
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There was an arcade in town near where Sollux lived, not exactly close enough to walk to and a little too close to drive to but in that perfect middle ground where one could catch a bus and then walk the rest of the way there, or maybe ride a bike if you had the coordination to do so. Jade might've had the coordination to ride a bike, but Sollux almost certainly did not. They took a bus, Sollux using his pass, Jade with a handful of quarters, and it was certainly a bus ride. It smelled a little bit, but it wasn't crowded, so there was room for the two of them to sit and stare at their phones and occasionally chitter-chatter with each other like friends sometimes did.
91/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 655
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 42
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It was the good kind of summer day. The kind in early June, maybe even early July if you're pushing it, where it's not too hot, and it's the right level of cloudy that the sunlight beaming down won't burn your skin to a crisp. There's a stiff, cool breeze running through the trees, whistling through the suburbs, flitting in between houses in zephyrous waves, and it rustles your shirt and if your hair's long enough, it rustles that too. Those good, halcyon summer days, where nothing happens.
92/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 705
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 47
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From the outside it wasn't anything particularly strange outside of the abundance of skulls and little tarot motifs plastered about on the windows in poster-size, obscuring the view of the interior from any onlookers. It was certainly a strange store, with an appropriately goth-y name that Dave wasn't paying close enough attention to to pick up on a hot summer day like this, instead grabbing the old steel handle on the swinging glass door and pulling open. The handle was rough, like it hadn't been shined or polished since the store had opened, with little ridges just to make the experience of tugging on it slightly more imperceptibly more painful, and a burst of slightly fetid, dry-ish air hit him once he managed to open up the startlingly heavy glass door.
93/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 748
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 12
- Hits:
- 77
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It was always something at Lalonde Manor, always something with the weather. When it wasn't a horrendous drenching downpour of rain, it was some kind of horrific windstorm capable of uprooting trees and hurling them like you and I would throw a stick, or a thunderstorm more than capable of starting a dangerous wildfire among the pines, or a blizzard, destroying all visibility for days and forcing everything inside. But today, it was not as tumultuous as it tended to be, just a light drizzle, the kind that you would still get wet in with an umbrella, but you could theoretically walk to your car and not get soaked if you walked fast enough - Just don't step in a puddle.
94/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 666
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 65
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The air tasted different here in a way that was distinctly noticeable, compared to Jade's usual haunts back home a thousand or so miles away. The air smacked of dark woods and the occasional pine, orange autumn leaves drifting on the wind downwards, an unusual sight for someone so used to greenery three hundred and sixty five days a humid, humid year in the tropics. Yellows and reds joined in too, slowly fluttering in defiance of gravity, held aloft by their light weight and broad size working against air resistance. They tossed and turned like restless sleepers falling through dreams, settling in a layer of sediment and detritus upon the ground, crunching underfoot like so many tiny skeletons.
95/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 709
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 55
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It wasn't exactly a beautiful day outside, but it wasn't horrible, either, the kind of grey-blue day that one got when the clouds were thick and heavy with a hint of rain, never quite crossing the threshold into the drizzle you expect to happen. They blotted out the sun, sapping precious life-giving warmth from the earth below and keeping the wind a particular kind of chilly, the kind that required a light jacket but not anything too wintery or else you might start overheating a little bit. They slowly rolled along overhead like wheels down the world's most gentle incline that could be taken against the holding forces of friction, a static, unchanging mass of grey-white that bode ill for the possibility of remaining dry later in the evening.
96/365
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Yes, the very same - as it would appear to be a common haunt for the young Strider - scrapyard glazed in orange sunset like the world's most metallic creamsickle, full of metal and trash and disused cars. All the things a young growing boy could need at their "place to go to whenever they felt the need to leave the apartment and chill for a while". It had sights, it had sounds, it had smells, and it was conveniently far away enough from any police stations that Dave, typically a very anxious and worrisome sort, could gladly smoke without fear of interception or interruption.
97/365
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The tiny little bottle of liquid vinegar death gleamed in the sunlight streaming across the picnic table somewhere in a relatively nearby park, not walkable but drivable, within the radius of Lalonde Manor. Along it sat several additional bottles, arranged like a line of soldiers prepared for combat. Twist-off caps in various sizes and configurations, with that little red devil in the center in possession of her distinctive, signature octagonal plastic screw-on cap. Rose and Eridan both sat on opposite ends of the table, with a bag of plain tortilla chips open between them, some of its contents dumped out onto a plate.
98/365
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Gamzee's living room was an interesting, desolate sort of place, filled with the constant scent of expensive cigar smoke, a distinctly different sort of aroma from the cigarettes Rose was more used to. It was heavier, more distinct, clearly stuff beyond the typical tobacco and menthol and chemicals, but in what way, she didn't know - she wasn't a smoker, after all. Gamzee's father brusquely worked in the kitchen, ignoring all potential interruptions and continuing to fill the air with the clattering rhythm of chopping vegetables to drown out the potential sounds of two children working in his presence.
99/365
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Jade's bedroom was a wondrous, sun-dappled place, speckled with little striations of sunlight at this dim hour, casting through the thin curtains like tiger stripes. Her bed itself, a fluffy, magical thing, provided ample cushioning for the illicit activities that were to take place this fine afternoon slash evening, and with no authority figures (both parental and governmental) that were around to give a shit, they were free to do so as long as they liked. Several sticks of incense burned quietly in the corners of the room, filling the air with a peaceful, placid scent, floral and sweet and a little woody at the same time, saturating the air with aroma. Between the two of them sat a ginormous bong.
100/365
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The air outside Aradia's home at night in the winter had a particular sort of taste to it, that sharp, biting taste of cold wind trickling into your mouth like water. It was an expansive property, with not much to do except wander away from home or stay inside, but when you had a friend that was as into the occult as you were, some magical things could happen. A tall, old honey locust tree about a half a mile straight due west from Aradia's home, with its drooping, empty branches making a perfect cover away from the staring eyes of the moon, imprisoning it in their thorns.
101/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 694
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 51
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The air was thin, wispy, listless in the park, providing flecks of dust in the unwilling individual's eyes as readily as it provided cooling winds across a person's skin. The local park was, thankfully, more accessible than the tangled wilderness that Jade Harley lived in almost every day of her life, particularly during the autumnal months when the trails of footfalls turned dirt into firm, clay roads that provided inimitable purchase to Tavros's wheelchair wheels. Bushes shriveled up quietly, revealing bare limbs of scraggly sticks and twigs that once bore pleasant leaves. Occasionally, a berry could be found, here and there, but most of them had since dried up and fallen off the vine, perhaps to be trodden underfoot and planted into new growth. Thus, was autumn.
102/365
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It was a fine day in April. Not too hot, not too cold, all you needed was a light jacket. The skies were clear and blue, free of anger, aggrievement, and strife. A couple of clouds rolled by in the distance, slowly peddling their fluffy cumulonimbus wares to the various winds hanging about, and the sun shone, bright white like the gazing eye of an infinite author, only watching, never more writing an end to the world's tale. The windows in J. Egbert's house were open, allowing that refreshing, life-giving breeze to trickle in slowly, obviating the need for air conditioning.
103/365
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There was a movie on the television, Harry Potter, and the Sorcerer's Stone - it was pretty good, for a movie of its magnitude. John and Eridan could both, separately and quietly, see how it became such a formative thing for literally millions of people. This shit has franchise potential. It's got it all, even if Eridan knew it was not exactly the best wizard fiction in the world - John, on the other hand, just liked the opportunity to watch movies. Young Daniel Radcliffe, before he became cool and auteur-y, graced the screen with his tiny, nerdy presence, glasses and all, and they soaked in the magic.
104/365
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The large television in Dave's apartment played its quiet movie tunes to the sound of the thrumming air conditioner manipulating the hot Houston air into something more palatable for human consumption. Something about rock and roll, what was the line - you may not like it yet, but your kids are gonna love it? It was mostly background noise that was necessary so that Dave didn't have to do much talking with his guest, and could instead focus on watching the movie while consuming supermarket sushi from a plastic container.
105/365
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The grass was wet, soaked through with the light rain coming from the dark skies overhead, clouding out the sun. It was overcast, dripping down precipitation onto the ground below, soaking into the dirt until it softened into semi-solid mud, a waterbed for the insects. It looked like it was going to storm in a couple of hours, like lightning and thunder were likely to hit in a moment, exploding trees and taking down power lines, but for now, it was only bare quarter-inches of rain splattering down on your skin with all the force of a light breath.
106/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 802
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 50
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When you were this high up, physically speaking, it often felt like the clouds were thinner, like there was something off with the rain. Atmospheric winds driven by the dark streets of the city below, absorbing sunlight until they get red hot in the summertime, generating huge convection currents, spin each raindrop into a little dizzying spiral, smacking it against the sides of a window or a railing or a face. It's not quite as heavy, even during a downpour, because the new motion messes with the vectors until they droplets are almost floating, suspended in glass, lightly splattering like a dead body.
107/365
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Winter changed the countenance of a landscape, particularly in the Northeast, like, say, New York (the state, not the city). Even if it wasn't snowing, the trees possessing leaves all withered up, shriveled like a dead limb, hibernating for next spring to bring their colors out once again and removing the thick canopies that shaded the ground during the day. The pine trees, on the other hand, remained resolute, still, annoyingly prickly, as pine trees tended to do. And, of course, on days when it snowed, everything would be covered up in a thick blanket of choking, smothering white, decimating the population of grasses and flowers still living beneath its amorphous body, absorbed into the snow like it were an extraterrestrial invader.
108/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 704
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 37
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There was a sort of malign, malignant boredom that all human beings possessed the distinct capability of accessing in dire straits, during those times when the brain was so lacking stimulation that it was willing to do something profoundly stupid in order to get a little lick of anything in for the nerves. Thus, with an ample supply of frigid fridge-batteries acquired, Rose Lalonde and Dave Strider were about to begin licking 9-volts, just to get a kick. Why? Well, why else would you like a 9-volt battery if not because you were really bored and there was little else to do? Plus, Rose always possessed an idle curiosity about the sensation ever since she heard about it from a friend years ago, and really, what else would you do with a 9-volt? Use it? Not very likely.
109/365
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There was, on a small volcanic island in the Pacific, with the volcano inactive and a crater in the ocean, a large tree. A very large tree, in fact, willowy and tall and distinctly deciduous, an outlier on the somewhat tropical climate full of hot, damp winds no matter what time of year it was. This tree peeked out like a periscope over the horizon, watching the sun set for many sunsets, occasionally shedding its leaves, growing fruit, discarding petals into a thick rain of pink and white on the rainforest clime below. Perhaps a pet project from a slightly megalomaniacal old man who had long since died - this tree was here, and there was a ladder built into its side, tall and imposing.
110/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 863
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 42
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The autumn winds brought with it a staggering level of orange, red, and yellow to the skies and the canopies of the local forests, setting it alight with the fires of fall, the beginning of a new year in certain cultures. They laid down on the floor, still and sleeping like the dreaming dead, gradually decaying into darker oranges, reds, yellows. Then, soon enough, it would turn into varying shades of brown, where the various decompositional processes on the ground of the forest would further decay it into detritus, compost, crushing it into the dirt, a nutritious feast for both plants and insects alike. A small caterpillar sitting on the edge of a strangely green leaf gnawed quietly on its meal, boring a circular hole into the edge, only to be shaken loose as its leaf was plucked up by a titanic figure of unfathomable mass and size. "Look, Dirk! It's a desk!"
111/365
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Roxy's room whirred quietly with two large box fans situated in just the right way to make a slightly obnoxious vortex of cold air centered right around the center of the room, orbiting it like the elliptical dance of two binary stars. Dirk, with a Nintendo 64 at the ready, sat dead center in the eye of the hurricane, unmoved by the maelstrom - not the least of which being that his hair gel meant that his hair would not move even if he wanted it to, unlike Roxy's tangled mess of wavy curls, which fluttered about her face like butterfly wings. She sat quietly on her particularly messy bed, watching as Dirk attacked her beloved hardware with a screwdriver and all the viciousness of a pack of ravenous seagulls picking apart a hamburger.
112/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 735
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 9
- Hits:
- 84
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It was always sweltering hot in Dirk's apartment, for mostly practical reasons - he didn't like to leave the AC on because the AC cost money, and seeing people be uncomfortable in his presence from being sweaty was one of life's minor pleasures. That being said, he was not a monster, so there was a gigantic box fan taped to a pulley embedded in the ceiling that he raised and lowered while he and Jane both worked in his kitchen. Occasionally, he would reach over and grab the long string of tied-together shoelaces that held it aloft and give it a good yank or so at the most inconvenient possible moment, earning him a proper glare from Jane, and then he would lower it back again and she would breathe some sort of sigh of relief in the boiling Houston heat.
113/365
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Jake's bedroom was an interesting place, at the top of a massive tower, festooned with all manners of posters of... intriguing taste, to say the least. Various Tomb Raider posters, anything with a blue lady in it, but also, really, any movie posters he could get his hand on in general. The Mummy. A dozen Frankenstein variations. Captain America. The really old, bad Hulk movie. Several gag movie poster gifts, mostly from Dirk, of movies that were notoriously bad but Jake would hang the poster for up anyway because Jake liked all movies and all movie posters mostly equally (unless there were blue girls in it, in which case, it was slightly above the rest).
114/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 650
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 45
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Each individual button gleamed quietly in its setting on the wall, shining, taunting the two of them quietly. Yes, you could certainly press one of the perfectly circular metal buttons inside the CrockerCorp elevator, you could watch the little light surrounding it glow bright red, a burning indicator of activity, and you could hope it moved... but, against your desires, the elevator would remain staunchly between floors 12 and 13, right in the middle, stuck where it was. You could, in fact, go even further, as Roxy did, and press literally every single button after hitting the emergency one, just for lack of thing to do, although eventually some internal mechanism would cause every light to go off at once, wherupon she would press them again. And again. And again.
115/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 626
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 10
- Hits:
- 63
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There are a million and one ways one can show that they care about their fellow human being. Some people like to call this sort of thing a "love language", but some scholars (such as this narrator) might find that to be a bit too reductive. For some, this may be gifts and money, and for others, it could be performing tasks, or words of affirmation, but for some particular kinds of people, sometimes it is as little as spending quiet moments with the person you care for. Jake's brain was always a haze of activity, far too thinking for his own good. Jane always kept herself busy, with extracurriculars, career builders, board meetings, things that consumed all of her free time. Sure, they could play games or go out to the movies, but there was, arguably, a better use of their time.
116/365
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It was a beautiful day in the middle of the summer in overcast New York, the sort of overcast that was usually rare on a day this deep into the season but somewhat typical if you were in this area of the state. Every so often, a crack would open up in the clouds, revealing shimmering rays of sunlight that would slice down across the forest of the park, cutting shadows into the grass and the bushes from the tops of each tree like a storm of rapiers, pointing towards the hidden moon beneath the horizon's surface. Because of this, that meant, for the middle of summer, the temperature was delightfully comfortable, with cat-sunning warmth casting itself across the porch every so often followed by glorious, blissful shade.
117/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 643
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 85
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The stars glimmered overhead like a sea of gems, set in a vast primordial of ink. When they looked up at it, their eyes, unfocused, unable to comprehend the dizzying dark, saw multicolored static that resolved to an even, grainy tone commonly known as "black", and then they saw black, and it faded into noise again, perhaps the cosmic microwave background, or just the unresolved photons of distant solar masses. From an observation balcony off the bare edge of the tower, it was easier than almost anywhere else in the world to see the stars and galaxies above with the naked eye, the milky way's white trail crossing across the night sky like a silver blade, cleaving it in two.
118/365
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Admittedly, Roxy and her cousin didn't have much in common beyond the broad strokes of their existence. As second cousins, they were spawned, roughly, from the same genetic lineage, and they both had similar proportions and blonde hair bleached even whiter, and were both female, in a fashion, at least. They were both technically Jewish, although Rose was slightly more serious about it (and only slightly). Rose wore her curls out, and Roxy straightened them most of the way through into short-cut waves. They both liked colors that were essentially on the magenta scale. They both had a taste for magic, although Roxy was more of a wizards kind of girl, and Rose was more of a serious frowning men with Necronomicons kind of girl. They both lived in New York, although Roxy lived in the city with her Mom, and Rose out in Rainbow Falls with hers. They both liked it frigid. They both loved snow.
119/365
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Outside, the brisk air swirled quietly with a light snowfall, slowly accumulating on the concrete rooftops and the windowsills outside, painting Houston with just a light brush of white. Wherever the Lalondes went during the wintertime, it seemed that snow was always quick to follow, even in god damn Texas of all places, but that was just fine with Roxy. For once, the air conditioner was not running at full blast, window cracked slightly to get that whistling cold wind inside while the ratty couch was sat upon by the two, the old fabric smelling of age and basement, that kind of nostalgic scent from a friend's house you used to hang out with in elementary school but then lost touch with after adulthood.
120/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 701
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 48
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It was a chill day in Houston, Texas, on the roof of an apartment building near to another almost identical apartment building - in almost all likelihood, owned by the same developers and manufactured in the same way, possibly even by the same construction team. They were like twin skyscrapers, every single steel beam replicated to the inch but transplanted about a mile to the right, as if teleported. Even the external area, the fencing surrounding it, the nearby parking structures, were almost identical, although the further you got out on each city block, the more distorted the view became, until it was illegible as a duplicate, developing personality and strata of its own.
121/365
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Lalonde Manor was always a far cry from the cramped, decrepit apartment building that Dirk lived in by himself. Even with his brother, a rather famous actor and director, capable of feeding him more than enough money to live by his lonesome, he still lived a spartan lifestyle, withholding purchases for anything beyond the bare essentials, subsisting on collegiate meals like ramen with eggs, and basically doing the bare minimum to get by so that he could save his allowances for... Something. He didn't know what yet, other than the fact that he knew he was saving, and that it was important to save, and thus, excesses were to be curbed.
122/365
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The temperature was nice in Jade's workstation, in one of the many, many floors of the grand spire that she called her home. The air conditioning, the heat pumps, the flowing pipes of cold water and refridgerant, all working in tandem to keep the entire tower cool using methods that were bleeding edge in the modern day and perhaps unthinkable of back when the tower was constructed, completely alien to the world of "keeping houses cold". Everything was the perfect temperature for evaporative cooling via sweat, as humans typically did on days like this when working hard. The sounds of flying sparks and ripping metal rang through the air like a junkyard orchestra.
123/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 843
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 13
- Hits:
- 59
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Dirk's bedroom in his apartment that he lived in and tended to mostly entirely by himself was a clownish, garish mess of aspects. Mattresses stacked on top of each other to provide requisite height, with the pillows set at the back edge, allowing his head to sit at the center of the room during the middle of the night. Several computer monitors in various inconvenient locations, all of which were displaying a different thing (with sound) to drown out the ADHD. A combination microwave-fridge normally reserved for college students that he acquired through less-than-legal means and methods, and frequently enjoyed soda out of from its convenience. So many plushies, everywhere. So many posters, also everywhere, mostly defaced with permanent marker and oil paint. It brought ironic enjoyment from humorous to grotesquerie and then back around into a funny joke.
124/365
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The neighboring islands, unsurprisingly, had similar climates - and out of all of Jade's many friends, it was unsurprising that her relative, albeit somewhat distantly, was the one that took best to camping with her. It was a beautiful cloudy night, a light drizzle not nearly enough to put out the flickering flame in the middle of their hastily-cobbled together campground, more of a light misting than anything else. The cool air washed over their skin, depositing growing droplets of water that were evaporated away with the heat of the burning flame, evaporating out temperature until they were at a comfortable homeostatic medium between warm and cool.
125/365
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Jake English's home was intimately familiar for someone who was life-long friends with Jade Harley and only recently acquainted with her somewhat eccentric cousin, living on an inexplicably nearly-identical island some nautical miles away. It was the same kind of towering, sky-piercing construction as hers, complete with otherworldly teleportation devices but not with the same restrictive god-dog that Jade owned (theoretically). It showed marks of use that were far different from Jade's, haunted by the material spectres of an eccentric billionaire. No, on the contrary, Jake's Grandmother was an especially practical human being, with every other floor some kind of automated greenhouse, server room, science doohickey, kitchen, or resting ground, for the intrepid traveler making their way up the entire spire by foot.
126/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 664
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 39
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The television screen dragged up all the way from the downstairs living room up into John's bedroom (with their father's assistance, of course) quietly hummed with dramatic static, the white noise of dialogue and background music saturating the air with thick tones, drawing the senses forward. All eyes, all four in the room, technically eight if you were going to be mean about their glasses, were glued to the screen, watching Nicholas Cage demand a bunny be put back into its box. John quietly mouthed every word of the script to themselves, having memorized this movie completely to the bone years ago and then never letting it out of their memory banks since.
127/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 660
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 45
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Summary
Often times, air is used to set the mood - in a literal sense, the atmosphere of a place is based a great deal on its very objective atmosphere, and, in a literary sense, the description of air can be used to immediately activate one's sense memory, to bring them to a time or make them imagine a place that's unreal using senses beyond the visual. Smell, touch, taste, sound, all of these were just as relevant as the physical description of what a place looks like, if not moreso. Thus, when you are told that they are in a lounge floor in Jake English's tower and the room was hotboxed as shit, you should immediately get a sense as to what the air is like.
128/365
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Dad Crocker's old radio pumped out top 40 alt rock hits quietly into the scent-filled kitchen through tinny, old, busted speakers, pulled through a lifetime of use by the screwdriver skills of friends and relatives and the occasional RadioShack employee, back when RadioShack was a thing that existed. Unfortunately, or, perhaps, fortunately in some ways for John, this was not the sort of baking that required a second set of hands, although they still watched the pan in an attempt to be helpful. A slight hiss of steam came from the crouton-like chunks of bread being cooked on the butterless surface of a ceramic pan, and with their dainty fingers, they reached down and flipped over every piece individually. Don't worry, they washed their hands.
129/365
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The living room of Lalonde Manor was a popular hangout spot for many of the friend circle, old and new, for many reasons. For one, it was preposterously large, as was everywhere in Lalonde Manor, a gaudily oversized estate with cavernous interiors comparable to an actual water-hewn cave in the side of a mountain, open concept enough that privacy of voice was nearly impossible without a tiny little whisper. There were also the facts that Mom Lalonde was very free and loose with alcohol, perhaps slightly irresponsibly (although she always made sure she was sober and kept watch if any of Rose's friends wanted to steal a nip), and that Rose had a cat. Cats were fucking awesome. Correction, cats are fucking awesome.
130/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 713
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 40
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Jane had control of the radio today - she and her Dad alternated on and off - and that meant that the old, busted boombox from her father's childhood was attuned to the local 80s top pop hits station. It had been retrofitted severely by her father's skillful hand, bluetooth receiver, Sirius XM Radio that they never used because the subscription lapsed, new internals, all the bells and whistles that could be accomplished without ruining its tinny, creaky sound. "Take... on... me...!" Jane sung quietly under her breath in her best choir girl voice, making sure she was keeping sharp in the off-season where school was no longer a necessity due to days off. Gotta keep those throat muscles trained for singing, Jane!
131/365
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The computer monitor in Dave's bedroom played a movie on Putlockers, every baby pirate's favorite movie theft website. It was Eraserhead, playing silently, with no audience to watch it, the auteur-child and the baker-child having both fallen asleep mid-marathon, unable to keep their eyes open above the surface of wakefulness. Eventually, the ocean of slumber came for everyone, even if you were watching as many David Lynch films as you could find and cram into your sixteen-your-old-skull at the time. Dave was very strongly convinced that movie piracy was a victimless crime, and, well, I'm certainly not going to contradict him in this narration.
132/365
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A gargantuan computer station put together with the aid of people much smarter than him in the realm of computers several weeks ago, and here Eridan was, sitting in on a weekend, preparing to play old video games instead of preparing to do homework, as he probably should be. Would his father yell at him for this egregious waste of time? Almost certainly, but then he wouldn't have the opportunity to enjoy this lightning-slick first person shooter experience that was bragged about by his more gaming-inclined of fellows. It hummed to life with ostentatious RGB lights glowing in a dizzying array of rainbow patterns, glazing over Eridan's mute, blank face, who had seen this light show a dozen times before.
133/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 755
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 66
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Summary
A Christmas day in the Lalonde household was never uneventful despite a couple of very important mitigating factors. For one, all the Lalondes were as Jewish as latke, or perhaps as Jewish as the very torah itself, depending on which tortured metaphor you'd like to put through its paces. Two, all the Lalondes consistently spent Christmas at Rose's Mom's house, the manor deep in a national park, which made getting Chinese takeout a perilous operation. No UberEats or Grubhub driver would drive out this far no matter how much of Mom's immense fortune they offered as tip - the app simply wouldn't allow it. There wasn't a single speck of Christmas pine tree in the entire house, not a single speck of holly-jolly joy, but there was a large bush dragged in from the inside decorated with old yellowing paper cutouts of Herschel, the Hannukkah Goblin.
134/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 671
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 47
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Tavros's bedroom floor was a strange and wondrous land, typically dominated by any dizzying array of stuffed animals and various game objects and, on occasion, a very excited borzoi. Today, the borzoi, Horsearoni, was asleep comfortably on Tavros's bed, nestled into some of Tavros's typical sleeping arrangements and accoutrements while Dirk and Tavros played on the floor. A large collection of colorful playing cards in an array of purple and red shades, stacked one on one on top of each other into tall, towering decks.
135/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 626
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 52
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Summary
"...And then you pour hot water on it, right?" Dave replied, gently tipping the hot teakettle over the leaves in his cup, letting it fill up with steaming, boiling water. Yes, the water did indeed take on an amber color rather quickly, filling the room with a faint, earthy aroma. Dave looked at the dainty little teacup sitting on the round table in Rose's living room and reached out to grab it, before recoiling from the heat radiating through the porcelain like licking flames, biting at his fingertips. "Wah lah. Hot leaf juice."
136/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 620
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 55
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"Flamin' Hot" - that was the order of the hour, a marijuana appetite enticed to the most resolutely disgusting of snack foods, little "cheese" "puffs" acquired from his brother's illicit stash of goods. Illicit in a sense other than illegal, which could not be articulated in the human tongue, but, nevertheless, was distinctly illicit if you asked Dave. Something about them was just explicitly illegal, disallowed, foreboden by their very nature as snack items hidden under the sink. He would have to burn some of his allowance money to replace them, but oh, oh God, was it worth it just for today, to steal a bite of that forbidden crunch, the sacred munch, fulfilling every need of mankind with little more than extreme hot cheese flavors.
137/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 670
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 42
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Lil' Sebastian is, as many of you may know, a bunny shaped robot. He is very cute.
138/365
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There's a ball of grease somewhere in your soul - if you look closely, you may be able to see it, or smell it, or otherwise detect it inside of you. A little sphere of grease, telling you, "Feed me, feed me, I crave food fried in butter, fried in oil, fried in whatever sort of fat you'll allow me to imbibe". For some people, this little devilish spirit is particularly ignorable, and for others, it is an immense driver of behavior, a swollen, sizable thing that rewards dopamine for sugar and salt. Clubs Deuce was, as a person, part of the latter category, and he felt like his life was all the sweeter as a result of it. There was something beautifully human, after all, about the art (and yes, it is an art) of indulging oneself.
139/365
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Diamonds Droog drove a nice car. Not a great car, not a super flashy car. A Rolls Royce. It was, by all accounts, a decent car - it was bright white, so that it would cost less to keep it cool in the summer and warm in the winter, and maybe all those savings didn't add up when you took into account the cost of cleaning all the bird shit off the windows and grime on the doors but Diamonds Droog would be cleaning the bird shit and grime anyway. His car glistened and gleamed, given a good Sunday bath and a washing and a scrubbing and polishing, every weekend, by hand, without fail. It was a sign of devotion from a man deeply enmeshed in ritualistic trivialities of the "cool", the ultimate suave. Cool was cigarettes, not cigars. Menthols. Cool was a well-loved car from 2008 still looking fresh out the dealership. Cool was Diamonds Droog.
140/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 713
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 19
- Hits:
- 100
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Hearts Boxcars sat in a recliner in his apartment, comfortably lounging, with two cats sitting on his ankles and another cat sitting on his head. He was perfectly fine with this arrangement of events and bodies because, among other things, he was very happy to have cats around (along with any other kind of animal), since the company of most other people was generally more of an irritant to him than anything else. As for why he was in an apartment and not a house like his other, erm, friends slash coworkers, well, did he need a house? Not really. He'd need to get a bunch more custom furniture made than the apartment provided, he made enough to afford rent, and his landlord gave him lots of concessions because they were terrified of him. This was a perfectly fair arrangement of things, in Hearts Boxcars's eyes.
141/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 659
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 11
- Hits:
- 65
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Spades Slick was the sort of person for whom leaving the house was more of a coin toss than anything else. A grumpy, middle-aged empty-nester, the daddest of his little motley crew, he gleefully took the opportunity to downsize from an actual house to a small little rowhome when soonest possible. His three little scottie dogs, King, Queen, and Jack, all circled around his feet, yapping hungrily at the scent of fast food fried chicken filled the air, all of them licorice-black, streaked with the grey of their age, adorable, neutered, loud. With no children around, Spades Slick was free to enjoy his semi-retirement the way he wanted - eating good food, enjoying the presence of his dogs, playing Russian Roulette (with spicy food) with the boys, and planning heists.
142/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 614
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 15
- Hits:
- 82
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Itchy's morning routine was predictable enough that potential sniper fire would have perhaps the easiest time in the world taking him out, if sniper fire was something he was concerned about, or if he ever stopped moving for more than thirty seconds. But, no, Itchy always moved, he was always in constant flux, even when medicated with the largest amount of methylphenidate legally allowed to be prescribed and then juiced up further on caffeine tablets and espresso and a red bull for lunch and then a big latte at dinner and then maybe also a smaller latte for lunch, before the red bull. If there was one thing Itchy loved beyond most other things, except possibly his little gecko friend, a mischievous little thing that had made a nest somewhere in his walls but had been fed enough to not mind his presence, it was coffee.
143/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 585
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 9
- Hits:
- 64
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Doze's morning routine was typical of someone of his stature and lifestyle. He lived by himself, which meant there was nobody to get on his ass about all the piles and piles of stuff in his home - his organizational method, of which he rankled severely when his on-again off-again boyfriend attempted to "organize". It was already organized, just perhaps a sort of strange organized chaos; he knew where every single thing in his small studio apartment was at any given moment, and any attempt to make it look neater was just a disruption to his usual schedule as he re-messed everything up.
144/365
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Trace got home from a long day of cheating people at the casino, sweaty, exhausted, with a couple new bruises for the wear. A nice, bright shiner right on the eye, and a busted lip beyond his typical amount of busted lip, causing his under bite to swell out just a little bit more than it typically did, teeth jutting upwards uncomfortably out of his mouth. Well, uncomfortable for anyone not named Trace, who had lived as such a dental marvel for his entire life, and was now very much used to it, even with the tight braces mandated by his significant other slowly pulling his teeth back into place. It was a good thing he didn't take too many lumps, because if he snapped a wire, he'd have to go back to the dentist and get it fixed, and he really hated dentist chairs.
145/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 685
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 9
- Hits:
- 93
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A glorious birthday cake sat on the island counter of Clover's expansive two-floor apartment, occupied solely by him and a small corgi with which he had bonded but thus far refused to name. His little dog ran tiny circles around the barstool that Clover sat on, yapping excitedly, while Clover examined the fresh arrival from every angle possible, spinning it around on its little plastic platter, a grocery store funfetti cake from a grocery store about thirty minutes away. After all, you have to give a different birthday every time you order a cake for yourself to have a birthday cake, and if the bakers ever recognized Clover, they could refuse to make his cake! Or something. Would they really? Who cared. Happy Birthday, Clover!
146/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 632
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 9
- Hits:
- 62
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Fin scratched his nose quietly as he ambled his way into his kitchen, short-cut nail dragging across the surface of its prodigious hump, its outstretched hook-ness protruding just a bit between his eyes, visible at any point except when looking far off into the distance. At this point in his long, storied life (not quite that long, and not quite that storied, though), his brain had simply stopped registering it as anything particularly interesting, and effectively censored it from his field of view, but it was there, protruding nonetheless. His nostrils flared, and wisps of scent wormed their way up into his nasal cavity, activating neurons, firing off recollections of ancient scent memories, meals once had some time in the past.
147/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 656
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 56
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Die sat down, a low-to-the-ground round plastic table situated at the center of his "living room", if you could call it that much. A tea party, for him? Why, you shouldn't have! A seat for each of his stuffed animal friends, and then a little plastic stool for him, giving him just enough room that he could kind of shuffle-squeeze his feet underneath the table but not really. There was a thin wool blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a shawl, filling him with comfortable warmth as he snuggled himself in it, and several mugs full of hot water, microwaved to perfect tea temperature. Or, well, probably not perfect if you were a tea snob, but Die did not consider himself a tea snob, just kind of a... casual tea appreciator.
148/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 644
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 98
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Crowbar watched the carousel of his microwave oven turn around quietly, continually gyrating across its single axis as it did so, humming with heat-inducing microwaves, buzzing with electricity. He ran his rough, slightly leathery fingertips across the metal-meshed and then glass-covered surface of the front door, imagining radiation attempting to escape the Faraday cage and cook his little person fingers like it was cooking these frozen chicken nuggets on a paper plate right now. There was Queens of the Stone Age playing on the radio at an acceptable volume, while his television played tonight's basketball game, something he cared very little about except for the fact that he had money riding on it. That made him care a little bit more than normal. But not by much - he just wanted the background noise.
149/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 605
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 15
- Hits:
- 76
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Stitch's rowhouse was a quiet little place, on the edges of the city, away from all the action - the action that used to consume so much of his life, now left to the dusts of the past, where he could retire away from them in peace. It was quiet here, with a single car maybe once every fifteen minutes, creeping through the narrow streets, weaving harshly around bumps and ridges in the road to avoid smashing into one of the many parked cars, like Stitch's old, creaky Volkswagon, old reliable, the conductor of a thousand getaways. It was a brisk fall night, with all the children of the neighborhood asleep at this sort of hour, to prepare for the school day ahead, outside of some hooligans smoking here and there. Stitch would never say shit, though. Everyone knew snitches get stitches, and Stitch doesn't snitch.
150/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 655
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 9
- Hits:
- 53
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Sawbuck's couch was large, plush, comfortable, with a layer of genuine leather papered over with several thick woolen blankets. Not that he had a problem with leather, it was just that in the hot summer months, it had a tendency to stick to your skin when you sat down for long periods of time and then peel off when you tried to move, and Sawbuck liked to be on the couch for long quantities of time, and didn't like it when the leather stuck to his skin, like the backs of his calves or undersides of his arms. No, that was awful, so he put woven quilts and cloth blankets all over every surface of it, to prevent such a malady from forsaking him. Nobody ever liked peeling themselves off a leather seat of some kind, and if you are the kind of person who does, Sawbuck would recommend you re-evaluate the life choices that have led you to that point.
151/365
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Matchsticks took an egg, a single, farm fresh egg, brown shell, and examined it closely for imperfections. Any cracks, he was told, would ruin the experience, and so he set his first choice back in the carton for tomorrow's breakfast, likely some sort of ham and cheese scramble. Maybe with peppers and onions if he was feeling saucy, as he tended to feel these days - life was too short to not indulge a little in your morning scramble, after all. But, no, he was told, by a trustworthy source, that microwaving an egg (whole, raw, shell intact) would produce miraculous results that would revolutionize his morning mealtime. As the sort of person who enjoyed a good scramble but not so much the effort involved in making it, Matchsticks would've accepted any opportunity to revolutionize his morning scramble. He took the words to heart and in, perhaps too much, good faith.
152/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 671
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 12
- Hits:
- 76
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(Actually, he microwaves several)
153/365
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Biscuits stared down the rhizomous fruit-thing on his kitchen table like it owed his money. Him money, rather. Like it owed him money, which, in a past life, it might have - not that Biscuits believed in reincarnation, particularly into bananas, but it wasn't exactly off the table, now was it? No, it was actually very much on the table, both the possibility that the banana's spirit owed him money in a past life, and the banana itself, which was physically located on the table in front of him, while he was located not on the table but under it, partially, with his upper half above it, and lower half sitting in a chair. As one did.
154/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 828
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 12
- Hits:
- 225
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Quarters whistled a quiet little showtune to himself, following the thrumming geetar sound of some nice classic ACDC on his old timey radio, sitting happily upon the windowsill, pumping out sound into the kitchen. The little smoke fan thing was whirring at full power, and his flat little griddle pan was almost smoking with heat, and he muttered under his breath in his best Angus Young falsetto about filthy acts being done at a reasonable price. All the fixins were set out and prepared for today's burger time, two potato buns (halved across the middle, producing four breads), ketchup, mustard, some package American cheese product, pickles, onions, and potato chips.
155/365
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This motherfucker out here eatin' beans!
156/365
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Well, "watch" is sort of not the right word for it...
157/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 668
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 10
- Hits:
- 92
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An arctic autumn wind blew quietly through the porch of Boxcars's home, swirling with small eddies, little turbulences that tousled the hat on each man in a slightly different way each. Boxcars's heavier hat rocked up and down with gentle motions, while Droog's bobbled slightly, with silent, hair-flattening tilts. It was a cold day in November, not a work day, and definitely not a school day, since neither of them were children nor had children. Just two men on a wooden porch that Boxcars built with his own two meaty, sausage-like hands many years ago, back before he retired with his gobs of ill-gotten gains and goods, sitting garishly like some gargoyle upon them - or perhaps, a dragon, more associated with greed and gold than the stone rain-channeler.
158/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 678
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 11
- Hits:
- 89
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There was a place outside of town you could drive to, a little closer to where Droogs lived than the rest of everyone else, if you wanted to do something loud without anyone bothering you. Not enough people around for noise complaints, the only people you'd spook are the deers and the birdies, and maybe the two old people that lived in that general part of "town". It sprawled across several dozen acres, and it was excellent for both burying bodies and shooting things. Today, Slick and Boxcars were interested in the latter - in a non violent context, don't you worry your pretty little heads. Those days, as the saying goes, are well behind the two of them, like the fine layer of car exhaust burning out of Slick's car at a million miles per hour as he recklessly speeds down the highway.
159/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 676
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 11
- Hits:
- 72
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They sat together at the plasticine table of the local Five Guys that Deuce visited so much they knew him by name. Not that Deuce didn't want to bother driving back to his place, but it definitely was a bit of a mess, as it always was, and he just knew in his heart of hearts that Droog would be a: disappointed in him (bad) and b: spend at least an hour cleaning up for him (worse). Neither of those were good things. Droog knew for a fact in his heart of hearts that the reason Deuce wanted to hang out at a Five Guys and not his house was because it was an absolute mess of piles, with clothes everywhere, tchotchkes splayed about on random surfaces, the whole nine yards. He knew, for a fact, that this was just how Deuce organized himself, but, still, a guy had to make sure his pal had the place presentable for any would-be lads or ladies! One of these days, he was sure Deuce would just click into place and figure out how to keep his place clean and not in piles. Or maybe he'd just get him some laundry bins. That'd work too.
160/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 642
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 13
- Hits:
- 86
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Slick grumbled quietly under his breath, watching the laundry at the laundromat churn in the same way one watched a boat with kind of intensity that you hoped would psionically detonate the engine. Droog watched Slick watching it with the sort of disinterested intensity one watched a David Lynch movie with - curious, but not much else. Invested in the mystery. Droog asked Slick why he wasn't using the perfectly good laundry machine that was inside his perfectly good home that he slept in perfectly well each night. Slick said something about a watermelon inside the washing machine, and Droog shrugged his shoulders and dropped the subject. He had known Slick for over two decades, he knew the "stop asking" tone of voice better than anyone else still alive on this God-given Earth.
161/365
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It was a cold day in the wintertime, which usually meant that the zoo was emptier than usual, which was great for Deuce and Boxcars. No snotty kids to go around that Boxcars would accidentally kick over the walls surrounding each exhibit and habitat - not a frequent occurrence, but it happened at least twice, which was why there were two security guards following them around that they had to pretend not to notice - and Deuce got to watch animals playing in the carpet of fresh snow fallen on the ground. It was a win-win for everyone involved! Except those poor kids.
162/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 683
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 10
- Hits:
- 63
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Karkat's home gently rumbled with the sort of silent, toneless noise that approached a child's sixteenth birthday. No, there was no physical sound, if you didn't include the off-key wailing of his father shrieking "Happy Birthday" at the top of his lungs at six in the morning, but more, the sense of newness in the air. Did anything change? Was Karkat any significantly different than he was the day before? In all ways except legal, the answer to this was no, and yet, there was still a change to be felt. He was 16 now, the age of peaked has-bins and teenaged drivers. Sixteen years old, the age of being about one fifth the way through your life. Smack dab in the middle of puberty. Sixteen candles on your cake.
163/365
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The dog park was a serene sort of place in town, all dog parks, any dog parks, with a sort of gentle air to them that made everything feel better. At the bare minimum, there was at least one dog, sometimes two, but usually there were many. Of course, if you were the sort of person like Tavros Nitram who went to the local fenced-in dog park at midnight with a lockpick so you could run your far-too-energetic borzoi around until he got tired enough to sleep, then it was probably just the one. On rare occasion, he was joined with the cats, maybe a squirrel or two, of the local neighborhood. His routine was pretty well known by now by the local animals, after all, with crows seeking to nest in Tavros's hair and trading him dimes and quarters for peanuts and scratches on the head.
164/365
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The hose gently rumbled with that sort of wet-silent-smooth noise that running hoses made, the indicator of water sluicing through rubber, pumping from well to pipe and from pipe to hose. Its end, open, with no sort of interesting valve or pressurized spray nozzle, simply fed into a ten dollar inflatable pool already pumped up with as much air as Aradia's little rinky-dink hand-pump air pump could pump into it. That was to say, enough to hold the water in, but not particularly firm beyond. This was not exactly Aradia's preference, but it rendered it a not-insignificant degree of puncture resistance, so, it was adequate for the moment.
165/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 634
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 65
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Sollux sat down in an alleyway while a gentle, light misting of snow descended from the the grey skies overhead. He carried with him the essential tools for his daily flight from life - an umbrella, for inclement weather, warm clothes, and an e-reader, along with some snacks packed up in a lunchbag with an icepack. There was a particular dumpster in this particular alleyway in this particular part of this particular city that he was a regular to, the same way some people were regulars to a bodega, or a deli, or a restaurant. It was the same dumpster it always was, typically filled with plenty of trash, as dumpsters tended to be, and its position just underneath a fire escape presented an admirable amount of natural cover from the elements.
It also had the most cats.
166/365
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Nepeta was, bluntly, not the largest fan of snow. The light dusting coating her middle-class little 2.5 bedroom 2 bathroom home that she lived in with her mom and sister was enough to ruin her day, because it meant there would be no dashing about outside, no roughhousing gymnastics or tree climbings in the frigid outsides without getting both cold AND wet - two very bad things. And, particularly now, when it had intensified into a fairly powerful blizzard, making visibility near zero? Well, forget it, no outside for you, Nepeta. She felt pent up, bouncy, full of energy in the worst possible way. She did jumping jacks in her room until she was exhausted, and retired to the living room to collapse into a couch. Comfy, comfy couch.
167/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 633
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 55
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It was a lovely little overcast day on that backyard stone-porch thing that Kanaya was relaxing on. She wasn't sure of what it was called beyond stone-porch thing, if it had some sort of particular name, or if it was just stones and bricks cut into shape and decoratively arranged and embedded into the ground to make a little floor. But, her brain called it a porch, and so Kanaya was relaxing on the porch, in one of the porch chairs, which wasn't super comfortable but it was made out of a really dense mesh and a metal frame and had enough pillows to satisfy, so it worked.
168/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 622
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 72
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There was a thick patchy set of grasses that surrounded Terezi's remote home like a moat, with her mother predisposed to avoid lawns. It meant that, instead of well-manicured lawnwork that nobody saw anyway because of the lack of neighbor, Terezi's house had great bushes of wild grasses all the way up to her knees, dandelions and flowers typically disrespected as "weeds" taking their root in the soil. Perhaps there was a thick collection of insects, of ticks and mosquitos, that liked to present themselves in the garden-like overgrowth that had taken over the exterior of Terezi's house, but a little application of bug spray and she could frolick about its greenery as much as she desired.
169/365
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Vriska lived in a very large castle in Spain, with her mom, who she preferred to not interact with at any times possible, and occasionally her sister, who she did not think about very often, and an internet connection. She had a mini-fridge in her room and a prosthetic arm and a large quantity of psychiatric drugs of various kinds, which are okay, and help her live peacefully. There is a garden that's barely tended to, and if it is, it's tended to by Aranea, when she visits. Sometimes, Vriska hangs out in the garden, with the bugs, and the flat stones, and the hedges slowly wilting, only given refreshment by the occasional light rainfall. It was lonely here, but a comfortable loneliness she had gotten used to.
170/365
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There was a little shelter in town, or as close to town as Equius could get, considering the immense estate that he lived in, where there were plenty of animals. It was on an old, ancient farm, refurbished about once a decade, painted over with bits and parts replaced so frequently that it gave a great real life case of the Ship of Theseus. There were animals of all shapes, sizes, and stripes here - Equius was first lured by word that he could volunteer with horses, of course, and did indeed spend a good couple of months during middle school doing menial labor to help take care of horses. Giving them feed, occasionally brushing their manes, tending to them much like a butler would tend to their charge.
171/365
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Gamzee did not live in an area where woods were readily available - in fact, you could call the shore perhaps the opposite of "a place where woods were readily available". Sure, there were definitely lots of beaches, some indeterminate landscapes that he called "marshes" but was really unsure of the proper nomenclature for, bays, towns full of old people... Plenty of those! Real woods? Not so likely to appear. Just wasn't the place for them, despite his taste for the biome. Thus, whenever he went to the big city, which wasn't much of an obstacle, maybe a couple of hours of train or bus at worst, he always relished the opportunity to imbibe nature and shit leaves, metaphorically speaking. What he did not expect, on his latest unadvised, unsupervised trip to the woods, was to find a goat.
172/365
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It was a brisk, autumn day, the day before autumn "break", if that was what you could call it. A couple of days for Thanksgiving and then the Monday off, presumably so each teacher could sleep off their prodigious hangovers - or at least, that was how Eridan saw it. His unfortunate position and remote location in the address hierarchy generally meant he was last to get off the school bus (and last to get on in the morning), with the bus driver having to drive a solid, awkward seven minutes out of the way to get to the refurbished lighthouse-house that he lived in. It was never comfortable, always a bit strange, and, frankly, Eridan wasn't sure how he ended up in the borders of this school district to begin with. Maybe it was gerrymandering. Who knew? (It was gerrymandering)
173/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 711
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 10
- Hits:
- 60
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Feferi Goes Swimming But The Author Doesn't Bait And Switch You This Time by Classpectanon
Fandoms: Homestuck
23 Jun 2021
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Summary
Feferi Peixes had a pool, as you could probably expect, and the last time we were here, narrating her life, expecting to use it, she, in fact, did not get to use it. No, she was stuck inside, finishing up summer schoolwork or something of the sort, snapping pencils over her knee and between her fingers, staring wistfully out the window as one tended to do when they were too busy doing schoolwork to go swimming in their gigantic mansion pool. It simply was not fair, back then, but thankfully, that's what sequels were for, and now she had the opportunity to do what she always wanted - go swimming. Everyone, please clap.
174/365
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 706
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 10
- Hits:
- 82
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Summary
It was the best kind of day, and the worst kind of day, in the Egbert household, what with the eldest, youngest, and only of Dad Egbert's many singular children having fallen ill with a particularly ravenous sort of head cold. No, it wasn't death-inducing, thank God, nor was it particularly dangerous, but John did have a fever of 101.3 degrees (coincidentally, the same frequency as their favorite radio station), an intense pressure in their sinuses, a throbbing headache, and perhaps slightly too much benedryl in their system for them to be entirely lucid. John was, admittedly, a big fan of benedryl, particularly when sick but also just generally when the allergies flared up, which was frequently in the spring. Oh yes, allergies plus a sinus cold? No bueno.
175/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 640
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 58
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There was soft, gentle easy listening soft rock sort of music playing on the radio, a recent number crammed into Dad Egbert's old, beaten up car, while it sped down the highway at a reasonable 65 miles per hour. Sure, airline tickets were cheap now, but not so cheap enough that Dad could just go out and get one any old day, even if his kid had friends they wanted to visit. Compromises, therefor, had to be reached, and after an ersatz weekend vacation (and one of Dad's PTO days, because he had some extra stocked up), it was now time to return home. At the last rest stop about an hour back, John had climbed into the back seat so they could lay down, and had swiftly fallen asleep while the clock ticked up to midnight, a jacket serving as blanket and another wadded up jacket on top of a backpack serving as pillow.
176/365
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The sun streamed in through the window, stubbornly attempting to sneak past any attempt at blacking it out that Rose gave. Not only was there not one but two layers of blackout curtains, but there were also the normal little up-and-down shades that she always had shut the maximum amount, and even then, the waving of the curtains to the gentle breeze of the air conditioner occasionally cast a spear or two of light across her face, disturbing her sleep. Her eyelids twitched while the eyes beneath rolled and moved up and down, and every so often, they opened enough for her to cast a scowl back towards the encroaching sun and toss her entire body around the other direction. The collar of her pyjama top was a little damp with sweat, because she was the sort of person that slept warm. It sucked.
177/365
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Rose slept peacefully, softly, and soundly in the big, comfortable recliner in the living room, dragged all the way over to the fireplace for maximum coziness. Jaspers slept just as soundly on her head, and they both looked downright cherubic in their meditative snoring, Rose, deeper and bassier, and Jaspers, a tiny little mewl exhaling from his mouth with every third breath. Mom Lalonde couldn't help but to admit to herself that they did, in fact, look precious, and if she felt like getting a talking to this night or waking her daughter up she would gladly give her a pinch on the cheeks and tell her so. She was not in the mood for either of those things, and besides that, she was slightly self aware of the effect she had on her daughter when Rose was annoyed, so she didn't do that.
178/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 736
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 9
- Hits:
- 66
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It was, as the kids said, hot as balls. Hot hot, hotter than hell. Hot heat, red hot. It was, of course, a city in Texas, which meant that it was ballistically hot, even as the sun slowly dipped down below the horizon in these late summer days. Dave Strider was far too hot to function as a human being. He felt like if he was going to hold his original Xbox controller and shred some rails in Tony Hawk's Dorito Muncher 23 then the plastic in the controller would've fused with his fingers, The Iron Man style. The last thing he wanted was plastic-infused fingers, despite how obviously dope as shit that sounded like, but more importantly, he didn't want to have to deal with a molten controller, or for his Xbox (already on its last legs) to melt down. Both of those, he considered, were highly undesirable outcomes.
179/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 646
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 59
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Bro had never been under the impression that he was a particularly good guardian. In fact, he got the distinct opposite idea from everyone he interacted with, including Dave - that there was something inimically wrong with him that prevented him from accomplishing parental tasks with the same guidance and care as everyone else around him. It was something that popped up every so often, and if he was the sort of person that went to therapy, he would have a great time sitting down on a chaise lounge and deconstructing exactly why it was he thought this way. It wasn't like he abused Dave, there was no rigorous combat training or living in ninja-tool induced squalor (as his nightmares frequently featured), but just something in his very soul that felt antithetical to the idea of being a decent parent for his charge.
180/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 600
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 33
- Hits:
- 221
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There was something about trees that felt more comforting to some kinds of people than even a bed. Rough bark, warm air, the light of the sun in your face, and the sounds of wildlife, no setup required - only athleticism or a ladder. In Jade's case, it was the prior, with several excellent trees surrounding the tower she lived in and on almost seemingly grown for purpose. The perfect quantity and quality of thick handholds for scrabbling up the tree's side, the right curvature of the branches to form a dense net of twigs and limbs the perfect shape for a person of roughly her size and figure to rest within. It was almost like someone had grown the trees specifically for her... but that would be silly, wouldn't it?
181/365
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There was a saying, a famous one, about planting trees, that Grandpa Harley thought about often to the best of his abilities. Even as his hair grew increasingly grey and his mind slowly began to wander away from him, and even after he lost the ability to remember the exact text of the saying, he still knew its message by heart. He knew that he would likely not live to see the fruits of his labor, as he rammed a spade with the best of his ability into the dirt and carved a little hole in the ground for a sapling to grow into. He took his little dirt pile and scooted it back over top with his shovel, patting it down until it formed a loose mound around the hungry little sapling. He wiped sweat off his brow, let out a wolf whistle, and moved on to the next one.
182/365
Halfway there!
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Damara wasn't home very frequently. It was never an occasion that necessitated anything more than a couple of days visit at most, not when there were other places she could be, but, unfortunately, you were not allowed to stay at the dorms over the summer unless you paid a fuckton of extra money -- money that she didn't have, of course. So, that meant an airplane trip back to the middle of fuck-all nowhere so she could ride out summer heat waves and use little plastic kiddie pools for at least three months before ditching her family once again to do who-knows-who-cares-what. Aradia had set up the pool hours ago, but now it was dark, and she was inside, so Damara had room to just sit out on a folding chair and let her feet linger in the water.
183/365
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Rufioh had not been in a good, proper woods in a long time - when you live in dorms and then you live in apartments and then live in rowhouses, the ability to enter nature is usually a bit stymied. There are certainly small spaces in the world where nature can encroach, with individual trees busting up sidewalks and providing shade in the summertime, and small little patches of growth in the city and college campuses. It wasn't every day where he could go hike in a real forest, with trees further than the eye can see, but sometimes, you could just drive out of town in your dumpy little car and go appreciate nature.
184/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 702
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 56
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Clickity-clack down the tracks, the train continued to rumble at its slow, leisurely, American pace, passing through empty, open fields used for nothing other than train tracks and little else. Still, it was better than an airplane, even if it was much slower - the notoriously acrophobic Mituna Captor would accept no substitutes. On a mostly-cross-country trip to see his girlfriend like this, the train was about 80% empty, which was also acceptable. It meant he could listen to music on his headphones on maximum volume and not be pestered by people who were understandably annoyed at the sound leaking out. His lips mouthed the screaming cry of "Hope Rides Alone", throat straining weakly at invisibly-whispered self-song while he played video games on his very old, very busted Nintendo DS.
185/365
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Kankri relaxed in his college dorm, listening to light, easy listening on the radio. Well, on Spotify, which was basically the radio anyway. It was, to his knowledge, acoustic instrumental covers of various pop songs played at about 70% speed, which he understood enough to be slightly irritated whenever he remembered that it was happening. Instead, he tried to bury his nose in his book, sitting at the edge of his bed, leaning on a pile of several pillows for back support so he didn't mess up his back further than a lifetime of leaning into books already had. He was reading some very flouncy historical fiction that he barely had any interest in whatsoever outside of his somewhat obvious bibliomania, engrossed in every encapsulated word, every phrase and sentence on the page.
186/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 616
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 58
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There was certainly something special about the experience of sleeping with an animal, not the least of which being their skittishness. No matter how light of a sleeper Meulin was, there was never any question that the slightest toss and turn would rouse the many cats she called her own, cause a couple of them to bat at her face quietly, and the rest would silently, grumble-y-ly shuffle themselves into a new configuration, curled up against her as much as possible. Except for her one cat who slept on the windowsill, but that was because they were a loner, not really any other reason. The rest of her cats, though? Regular sweethearts of all shapes and sizes. Fluffy. Chubby. Thin. Hairless. Most of them were technically her mother's and sister's cats, but Meulin was selfish and liked to gather them up for naptime. Who could blame her?
187/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 600
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 61
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There were, of course, many tasks that needed being done on this fine day. Some of them, maybe even needed to get done by Porrim. But you know what? It was sweltering even with the AC cranked up, the air thick and humid, and Porrim had better things she could be doing besides the things she was supposed to be doing. Better things like relaxing with two box fans pointed at her, watching television sort of half-heartedly, browsing through the internet on her phone. Her mother was out and her sister was visiting some girl from New York, so Porrim had the place to herself, and was making absolutely the least of it. No wild parties (because there was nobody around for miles), no shenanigans. At most, she was stealing from her mom's ice cream stash, but she did that anyway, so who cared?
188/365
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It was late at night at the skate park - generally, either the best time or the worst time, depending on how populated it would be with drunk high schoolers at this time and place. Thankfully for Latula, it was one of those days, perhaps the combination of it being a Wednesday and it not being the Summer (it was, instead, wintertime) that meant the place was for all intents and purposes empty, barring a couple of small raccoons she had befriended years ago who always showed up on Wednesdays to hang out with Latula from the nearby tree, without interacting except for occasionally taking a peanut or two off of her.
189/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 669
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 60
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Aranea yawned quietly in her little reading nook, a place in her library all to her own, where very few people could bother her. Or wanted to. Or were physically around to do so, because very few people visited the closest library to her mother's fucking castle home, the closest library being a couple of villages away in the nearest "town", but Aranea really didn't mind that. It meant she could be by herself, and that the librarians were all familiar enough with her that they didn't really complain when she peeled apart seat cushions and crammed them onto a strangely-wide windowsill in order to create a little enclosed space for her to read to her heart's content. It was nice and quiet here - no annoying sisters, no overbearing, arguably abusive mothers, just Aranea and a book and the climate controlled air.
190/365
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Horuss sighed quietly to himself - not out of any particular exasperation that required sighing, but more as an exhalation of breath that had built up in his chest over the course of a long and productive shower. He tied his hair up into a ponytail, and then considered to himself if that was the reason why his ponytail had become particularly frizzy; was he warned by a friend to not tie his hair up post-shower, or to tie his hair up post-shower? He could not remember, and thus defaulted to what he felt like doing, which was a ponytail situation. His hair was mostly dry, anyway, so it probably didn't matter that much. He stared at his face in the mirror, looking at the dark circles underneath his eyes from sleepless nights engineering, and grinned his best practice grin. Then, he stopped.
191/365
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It was a Wednesday, and nothing happened on Wednesdays, whether that be morning, noon, or night. A Wednesday was the dead air of days, the television tuned to a non-functional channel, the wobbly HDMI cable of days not quite connecting to the big screen. Wednesdays were zones of strange, impertinent magic. Cronus was not a fan of Wednesdays, when his father returned home from fishing trips and expected him to help prepare and butcher fish for the shop, which was why he skipped over the duty frequently enough that his little brother had begun complaining about it. Buck up, buttercup, you're sixteen now, you learn the family trade. Cronus is going to go smoke weed and try to skate by the strip mall twenty minutes away instead.
192/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 717
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 10
- Hits:
- 67
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There was just something about the shore that was unmistakably chill, and Meenah was no stranger to ocean waves. The best part, though, undoubtedly, was during the winter, when there were never any tourists this far north because nobody wanted to be on the shore when the water could freeze you to death. That meant the boardwalk, lined with all its shops and stalls, was closed for the season, and thus home to miscreants and malcontents, the kind of people that Meenah preferred vastly to hang around compared to the stuffy repartee of her mother or sister. Today, it was a little snowier than most would've liked, a light drift down from the clouds onto the powerwashed planks of the boardwalk, which meant it was emptier than normal. Suited Meenah just fine.
193/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 632
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 63
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It was one of those days - you know the type, when you couldn't get your homework in on time before midnight and decided, fuck it, if it's gonna be late it might as well be late by three hours and so you stay up til 3 AM trying to finish it but you know that you've missed the deadline and it feels so much slower? One of those kinds of days. Rose Lalonde was illuminated by the glow of her laptop at the kitchen table while she sat at one of the plush, newly refurbished stools tucked underneath the lip of the granite countertop island at the center of the kitchen. Her fingers typed away rhythmically at her keyboard and she worked in silence, slowly bobbing her head forwards and backwards to some invisible rhythm as her keys clicked and clacked.
194/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 686
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 52
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The worst part about winter break ending was, undoubtedly, having to go back to working every day. John was not the sort of person that reveled in homework, unless it was for their computer science elective - but this was not that, this was math. John did not enjoy Pre-Calculus. John did not enjoy trigonometry, or thinking about unit circles, and yet, here they were, with a worksheet printed out in front of them that demanded their attention at all of those things. It was maddening, fingers tapping away at a graphing calculator in unpracticed order, losing muscle memory over the two weeks or so of Christmas, New Years, and visiting internet friends across the country. It was, perhaps, the opposite of fun.
195/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 603
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 59
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In absence of any particular homework assignments, unlike that of her friends, whom she was frequently asked to assist, Jade was free to manufacture her own curriculum. Certainly, there were educational goals laid out by her long-dead grandfather, automated tests with little robots to assess her academic competence, but they were few and far between, and Jade was free to explore her educational horizons as far as they could carry her with little-to-no interruption. Having an intensely loyal guard dog with the ability to teleport in order to steal textbooks helped, of course, particularly in the early days before she could operate a computer, but nowadays she usually just pirated textbooks and moved on with her life. Today, she was going to blow things up. For science reasons, of course.
196/365
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Dave let out an aggravated grunt of aggravation, slamming his head on the little lounging table set up in front of his couch as he attempted, in vain, to put pencil to paper. This was not a metaphor for the writing process in general - Dave was literally not allowed, by the terms of the assignment, to type it, because his history teacher was a sadist who hated him. He had no proof to back this up other than the fact that he evidently desired to see the chicken scratch that could be charitably called "Dave's Handwriting". It was frequently joked that Dave should become a doctor, it was that bad. He let out another pained wail to nobody in particular, thanking his lucky stars that his brother was not here to watch his frustration.
197/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 633
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 76
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Clubs Deuce stared at the table in his house with the sort of tired-eyed stare of someone who was so bored with themselves they didn't even know how to go about the process of creating ideas for what to do to get un-bored. He blinked several times, listening to the quiet hum of a baseball game on the radio, listlessly considering the many things he could do to get himself un-bored and then discarding each one, one by one, until there were no ideas left. He sat still on a stool with placid disappointment, sighing quietly to himself as a little parakeet bird fluttered out from one of the other rooms and onto his hatless head. He mentioned something about the two of them being really in it now, and the parakeet responded by squawking quietly.
198/365
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Jade Harley, five years old, vaguely insensate from age and yet wise beyond her years, with a knowing twinkle in her eye and paint on her hands. With minimal supervision, the world was her canvas, in the most absurdly literal sense possible. Even her canine guardian, incapable of performing most of the basic caregiving tasks besides providing warmth and food, knew better than to get in the way of Jade and a puddle of green paint. Her giggle was cloyingly sweet, the kind that would melt the hearts of any grandparents around should there be any, and the middle floor of the massive tower she lived within was already well-coated in her artwork. She clapped her hands together, splattering a fleck of green paint onto her smock, and got to work.
199/365
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Droog did not like making a habit of smoking indoors. He did like to smoke, even knowing how much of a detriment it was to the continuing state of "having healthy lungs", and he certainly thought it was a classy thing to do, but smoking indoors was the least classy thing you could do with yourself. The smell lingered, seeping into wallpaper and yellowing it at the edges, tainting Droog's many paintings, harming the health of the hypothetical pets that Droog did not have but often told himself he should get. But if he smoked indoors - which he tried not to, very hard! - then he couldn't have a little kitty. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if the kitty got sick.
Sometimes, of course, you had to have a smoke indoors.
200/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 630
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 16
- Hits:
- 92
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Boxcars let out a frustrated groan, curdling quickly into a loud, aggravated growl of aggression and barely constrained rage as he looked beneath his pillow for his car keys. He flipped the pillows up, letting them hit the ceiling with a dull thud and flop back down onto his head, bouncing back onto the bed almost perfectly made. Somehow, this made him angrier, and his groan transmuted into a roar as he grabbed one of the pillows and flung it into the nearest wall. It immediately bounced back onto the bed from the sheer force, but on the other half of it, flopping down to his Cat Nest in an almost taunting fashion. No matter how hard Hearts Boxcars raged, he could just not get these pillows removed from his bed. Where were his fucking car keys?
201/365
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There was a little place near the shooting range that Spades Slick liked to go to when he was experiencing what Deuce liked to call a "little baby moment", what Boxcars liked to refer to as an "anger management moment", and what Droog liked to refer to as "sicko mode". Slick thought all of these appellations were stupid as shit. Sometimes, you just had to exact some rage on an old dumpster full of garbage, you know? It wasn't like anyone was going to stop him, and it was cheaper than going to the range, and the range owners didn't have a problem with it - or if they did have a problem with the ornery old gangster, they certainly haven't mentioned it to his face yet. And, you know what? Maybe it was better that way.
202/365
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John's little legs were not nearly tall enough to go all the way up the chair in the kitchen, necessitating a not-insignificant amount of climbing up onto its surface. Like scaling a colossus, shoes dangling against the horizontal bars keeping the chair stable, while they exerted an increasing amount of effort hauling themselves up onto it. This task was not assisted by the fact that John was rather short for their age, meaning once they finally achieved the monumental task of "sitting on the chair", their legs dangled freely off the edge, kicking at the counter. The little doors leading to all the cleaning equipment bounced faintly against John's feetful effort, and they craned upwards silently, brow furrowed while they retrieved their prize.
203/365
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Dave Strider, young but wise beyond his years, sat on the couch in a sweltering apartment in Houston, Texas with a stoic little smile perched on his cherubic face. Although growing rapidly into the spindly young man he would become, he still had the unavoidably squishy countenance of the kindergartener that he was, a body fully prepared to bump itself into every surface and ram into every wall at high speeds and come out on the winning end of the equation. It was for this reason, and not the weeaboo aesthetics that his guardian enjoyed, that he had a small bandage right across the bridge of his nose, where his glasses sat comfortably cushioned, along with a motley assortment of apple-themed band-aids scattered across his limbs and widdle fingies.
204/365
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The luxuriously upholstered couch in the living room of Lalonde Manor was an outstanding masterpiece in all senses of the phrase - it stood out against the stark, otherwise empty, marble-tiled flooring, and it was hand made by French artisans on request of the elder Lalonde - a masterpiece. It was, in these days, frequently used for things besides its original intended purpose of providing a sitting location to read a book on, or perhaps watch a movie on the elder Lalonde's clunky work IBM. These days, it often served as a bed for a sleeping first-grader, the sleeping first-grader's cat, the sleeping first-grader's various dolls, and the sleeping first-grader's books, which she ascribed dubious sentience to.
205/365
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Karkat was many things in his young age, and among them, was supremely grumpy. To be fair, this was a constant that would never decay, even as he aged, but as a small toddler, he was supremely grumpy. Grumpier than he would probably ever be, but never in a way that caused any actual harm - not the least of which being that he was only a couple of feet tall and mostly feeble. He pouted in his chair as his father, bearded and mildly exhausted, attempted to cram some applesauce into the unwilling toddler's face. One crabby man trying very hard not to shout to just take the damn applesauce already, and a very crabby child who was absolutely not going to accept any applesauce by any means necessary, up to and including raucous shouting.
206/365
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The sandbox was a mystic place for dear young Aradia, a place close to the dirt she loved to wallow in but without making as much of a mess that her mother would be upset by. Aradia, mess-lover that she was, would rather be playing in the mud, but the mud wasn't as easy to sculpt after a rainstorm the way the sand was, how she could press it into plastic cups and mold it into towering spires. It was a thirty minute drive to the nearest playground, but that was fine with Aradia, who would just nap on the way in her mother's rickety old minivan. Her mother would bring the latest book from the book club, or something of the sort, and sit on the jungle gym, watching Aradia enough to cheer her on whenever she made something cool and make sure she didn't accidentally hurt herself.
207/365
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The city park was a relatively bustling place, even at this time of day. Evidently, people liked to be out on Tuesday evenings; who knew? Tavros, as he would, was currently ignoring most of the outside world, because there were far more important things to do with his time. Sure, there were dogs around, to which he would gibberishly invoke the species name, and a single person walking their pet cat on a harness, to which he would act shy and scared around, because he was afraid of cats -- but there was also something much more important than that. The only thing that could distract a stroller-bound tyke from the presence of many dogs around with which he could lay his hands on.
The ice cream truck.
208/365
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Sollux's bare feet wiggled together in thought as he sat on the floor of his dad's apartment, his developing brain contemplating many things. He was looking very thoughtful in his little overalls and bee-themed pyjamas underneath, a pair of disused paper-thin 3d glasses sitting on his forehead in imitation of his father's most usual look, which usually included sunglasses. He clacked his fingernails, recently cut short, against each other in a mild rhythm to an invisible tune only he could hear, a shaggy mane of developing hair cascading over his head as he bobbed back and forth in thought. What sort of thing would draw the attention of a hyperactive child for so long that he sat and hummed quietly to himself? What mystic magnet of eyesight could it be?
209/365
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Cartoons on Saturday Mornings were as much of a ritual for young Nepeta as "petting her cats repeatedly" and "drawing a picture of her face after staring at herself in the mirror for about half an hour" - sitting on the carpet in her mother's modestly sized home, against her mother's wishes, and gazing upon the television, taking in all the art styles, absorbing them with her eyes. Some day, she would draw just as well as the people who made her favorite television shows, she always told herself. But right now, she was still a small girl surrounded by cats, one of which was aggressively kneading at her back through her pyjamas - which didn't bother her much, but it was slightly distracting.
210/365
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"I'm going to be a vampire," said Kanaya, small, polite, efficiently thumping her head against her much taller mother's stomach in the middle of the kitchen. It was a cool, low evening in the middle of the winter, where the moon was already high in the sky, shining little beams of light through the window of their isolated little home.
"Oh?" Her mother placed her hand on her hip, and looked down at her daughter, smiling sweetly. It wasn't the first time this conversation had occurred, but she never minded replaying the hits for her daughter's amusement. "And how are you going to do that, sweetie?"
211/365
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Terezi grinned to herself an impish little smile, and her wide, black eyes glinted with mischief. Her chest puffed out with pride, and she indulged, positively wallowed, in the glorious sensation of the sugary treats she had procured. They were all around her, in little bags and boxes, stacked up in uneven towers and pyramids made to the best of her unseeing ability. A small part of her wished that she was able to see them better, but the couple of open packages smelled more than enticing enough, and the rest of her was quite happy to simply bask in the glory of her sweet hoard.
212/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 708
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 73
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"Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on!"
Vriska Serket, age eight, gripped the sides of the tank, staring, unblinking, into the little cave of dirt, sticks, and bark that nested her new arachnoid pet. A recent addition to the family, Marquise Spinneret Mindfang (named after her older sister's favorite book character, since it was, of course, a family pet) stared back at Vriska with its many beady little eyes, not sure what to make of this giant creature that brought it both food and affection. A titanic, world-altering addition to this weary, senior tarantula's world. It hid quietly in its substrate spiderhole, unwilling to emerge for its regular feeding time.
213/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 745
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 11
- Hits:
- 79
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Equius was a pleasant little six-year-old, always minding his manners, always saying please and thank you, and always keeping his elbows off the table, even when he had to scramble his way up the dinner stool in order to even sit at the island in the middle of the kitchen. Polished marble (or was it granite) gleamed back at him, and some days he would lose himself staring at its shimmering surface, while his ever-dutiful father, Arthour, performed work around him. Some days, it was cooking. Others, cleaning. Today, it was the ever-arduous task of preparing breakfast - eggs and chocolate milk. As usual.
214/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 740
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 9
- Hits:
- 108
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Gamzee, sitting on his bed, gently clapped his bare feet together, staring out the window. His bed was, as always, a bastion of protection in this hostile, somewhat lonely world - a flat-screen television on the wall playing Sesame Street and a view of the ocean through the window. He stared outwards towards it, a small child on a king-sized paradise, waiting for his father to return from his business trip. That was most days with Gamzee, alone with the television to teach him life skills if he wasn't at kindergarten - the fancy private kindergarten that could afford a little tiny bus for all the six year olds. Go to kindergarten, go home, scramble into bed with the stepstool, and then watch PBS until he fell asleep, with snacks in between from the cabinet as he got hungry. Sometimes dad would come home before sundown and make him dinner. Most of the times, not.
215/365
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Eridan looked outward into the great, big, wide world, and found it pleasing. Barely up to his father's knees even as he developed into a lanky young lad, a pair of absolutely disproportionate glasses sat on his widdle nose, large and thick enough to deflect any manner of projectiles and focus his very bad eyes into the sort of crystal-clear high-definition that would allow him to actually see things. He was not walking along the boardwalk and gazing into the ocean wistfully, no, like any stylish toddler, he was riding along the boardwalk in an expensive stroller that looked like it was made for 1.5 kids, of which Eridan occupied approximately 0.75 of. There was even enough room for a little throw pillow that he stole from the couch back at home and refused to put back!
216/365
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Calliope grabbed her head and gave it a quiet scratch and then thumped her head on her desk, the sort of thumping the result of sleep-deprived aggravation and a not-insignificant amount of frustration. Sitting below her was a dizzying array of empty pages, scattered around her was a halo of colored pencils, crayons, and pens, each one vying for her attention equally as much as the other one. After another day of being pestered and bullied, again by her despicable brother, she was just about ready to take all her papers and burn them. Her vibes were off. Her groove was shaken. She couldn't think of a single good idea no matter how hard she tried to put pencil to paper.
217/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 643
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 62
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Feferi stumbled into the bedroom of her grandmother's house with a sleepy smile on her face. Staying at grandma's house was never exactly a super fun occasion, considering her incomprehensible Russian(?) gibberish, strong desire to teach Feferi Russian(?) gibberish, and frequent meals of meat, of which Feferi, already an obligate vegetarian at age seven ("eating animals is icky!")... did not like. But, grandma was also a good pillow to nap on and the best hugger in the world, and when Feferi had a cold and her mother needed to be away at work, staying with her grandmother wasn't quite as bad of a proposition. A little chicken soup could be tolerated in circumstances like this, and a benadryl kicked any vestiges of "being able to remain awake due to cold symptoms" right in the head with all the strength of a beautiful pony.
218/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 644
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 69
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Dave Strider woke up, slowly rolling from his back onto his front, drifting down onto the ground and arriving on the cushioned floor of his habitat with a quiet little thump. His arm whirred just as quietly while he broke into his morning pushups without missing a beat. Snoop Doggy Dogg played on the radio, bringing back halcyon memories of back when the dee oh double gee was alive and kicking. Dave's lungs quietly hissed inside of his chest, and by god, did he crave a fuckin' cigarette. His shoulders strained mostly through repetitive motion, each push-up causing him to fly a little bit off the floor and giving him just enough time to clap twice.
219/365
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Jade looked down at her feet, and then looked down at the bank of the small stream she sat in front of, the little concrete embankment that was just at a shallow enough angle that it was possible, barely, to not slip, slide, and skid your way into the water. It was easier with shoes, with rubber soles or cleats that could grip all the little pores in the concrete - removing nature and replacing it with stone, harder to erode, harder to cling to. A little curtain of thin moss, or maybe algae of some kind, clung to the bottom-most portion of the embankment, where it went from "you could kind of sit on it with all four limbs for support, maybe walk" to "precipitous, near-vertical drop". Maybe about a foot into the water. The water used to be higher, but now it was lower, revealing the drop for all to see.
220/365
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Rose, lit by candlelight, awkwardly shuffled into her mother's study with a look of prime desperation on her face. The orange glow flickered every which way, spasmodically sharpening the shadows stretching along her face, while her pyjamas dragged along the ground quietly, the sound of shuffling cloth following her just as closely as the light. A small cat slipped between shadows while she examined the stretching shelves, watching them, as if they'd do something in the dark when not being watched. She raised the candle up in its small little container, taking care not to accidentally ignite any of the ancient, dusty tomes, for if she did, something awful would surely happen. Worse than the current situation, at least.
221/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 645
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 29
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Summary
John's fingers found handhold in the sides of the pillar, small grooves and notches looking like they were carved for someone with either much larger or much smaller fingers than they had. The pads of their fingertips dug into the rough material, providing just enough grip to haul themselves up onto the narrow ledge above. Their arms ached and burnt with effort, and they kept their face pressed to the stone making up the massive pillar, rubbing the tip of their nose into it so they didn't have to look down or up. Down showed the clouds beneath them, called forth the vertigo, enticed the wicked winds to prod at John's back. Up showed the rest of the sky, the darkness, and its twinkling stars. No, they could rest here, face against the grey stone, and breathe the thin air.
222/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 602
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 32
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Summary
Dave's blade went snicker-snack, chopping through vines with the same efficacy that it lopped off monster heads when the need arose - which was often, given his choice of occupation. Every little limb of ivy fell at his discretion, bushes collapsing under the weight of their frayed stems and trunks, no longer able to support themselves. Good, Dave needed them to get out of his way, after all. His sword lazily swept from left to right, mercilessly chopping through innocent plant life. A bird shit on his pauldrons, and he barely even cared, just sighing quietly and dumping some water from his flask onto his armor, just enough that he could wipe it off with a handkerchief.
223/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 617
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 39
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Rose Lalonde, effervescent as always, bobbed from side to side quietly, her ears ringing, staring blearily down at the glowing screen of a laptop that was far too bright for the time of day that it was. She looked at herself, looked at her own fingers, slightly dazed, very confused, and then back at the computer screen, before grabbing a nearby napkin and wiping up a little spot of drool that had formed on the desk. Evidently, she had fallen asleep mid-writing session - what a hilariously and cutely embarrassing situation! Surely nobody had ever experienced anything remotely close to this exaggerated depiction of tiredness, eh? She rubbed in small, dizzy circles until the drool spot was gone, and then rubbed her knuckles against the inside of her eyeballs, just to get the worst of the sleep-gunk out of them.
224/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 634
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 39
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Summary
Jade awoke with a snort not unlike that of a particularly exhausted dog waking up during a thunderstorm, scared by Jade awoke with a snort not unlike that of a particularly exhausted dog waking up during a thunderstorm, scared by the sky-noises. Unlike most dogs in this situation, however, the noise outside (fireworks, not a thunderstorm) did not scare her so much as it gently startled her awake. Blinking quietly on her bed, she stared down at her bass guitar that she was busy re-stringing, disdainfully wiping a small spot of drool that had fallen from her lips from its body. Her laptop, sitting on her nightstand, continued to quietly shuffle through her progressive metal playlist, filling the air with the crooning sounds of Maynard James Keenan's shitty little voice singing a voracious ditty about drug use and third eyes.
225/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 602
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 25
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Exhausted, John's head sloppily arose from its position at their desk, neck pushed at an awkward angle, a small spot of slobber unfortunately spread across the lacquered wood surface. Groaning quietly to themselves, they reached for a tissue from the little all-purpose tissue box sitting pretty at the back end of the desk, withdrew it with a sharp yank, and wiped the smudge from the black varnished wood, making sure it wouldn't leave any sort of stain. John wasn't particularly fastidious - in fact, quite the opposite - but this desk was a gift from their father, and they felt a sort of quiet necessity towards cleaning it, so that it wouldn't be given in vain. Or something like that.
226/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 608
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 37
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Summary
Dave Strider did not drool when he slept, nor did he snore, although he did have the occasional fit of myoclonic jerk, such as the one waking him up with a start on his couch. He looked around wearily, rubbing the inner corners of his eyes with his fingers, the couch shifting beneath him as he wiggled around and adjusted. He reached over and closed his laptop, before turning back to face the corner of the couch, pulling his little shitty thrift store comforter back over his shoulders. Then, he fell back asleep.
227/365
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"Hello, my name is Jade Harley. This is our band's performance of "Piano Burning", composed by Annea Lockwood. You, um, you got June's piano, Dave?" Jade asked to the camera.
Dave gave her an OK sign with his hands.
"Great. Let's get started."
228/265
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 623
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 43
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"--Well, it's only natural, June. Dave has thrown the glove down in terms of avant-garde tomfoolery, and we simply must one-up him. I will not abide by anything lesser." Rose said, flicking one hand out in a suitably flamboyant fashion. "Their video is 20 minutes of them burning your old piano. We could do something more outlandish than that."
229/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 651
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 10
- Hits:
- 65
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Summary
Jade's strange hellmurder island made an excellent spot for the vague kinds of amusements that legal adults could get up to without being accosted by cops, parents, and other fun-ruining malcontents. After all, she was technically in international waters, and the only law enforcement on the island was Becquerel, who didn't give a single solitary shit about any of them smoking. This, of course, meant that certain creature comforts like "fresh delivered pizza" were a bit beyond Jade, but with the huge quantities of raw materials in storage, the four of them together could pool their knowledge to make a pleasant substitute. Instead of regaling you with an epic 4-5 paragraph scrawl about the process, in exacting, mind-numbing detail on how the group made pizza together, though, we'll just skip to the aftermath.
230/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 600
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 66
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The front door creaked quietly open as Tavros, light on his feet, slowly managed to inch his way into the abandoned mansion, not even surprised when its loose hinge slid shut on him, slamming the door behind him as he stepped into the lobby. He rolled his eyes silently in his skull, his flip flops continuing to gently, almost humorously slap against the ground as he moved, taking a look around. It was exactly as decrepit as he expected it to be, with holes in the walls leaking out into the slightly rainy outsides, a bug-eaten carpet that almost skittered when he stepped on it, and damaged portraits thick with mildew. You know, the works. When it came to haunted houses, this one was a classic.
231/365
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Vriska's grimy fingernails gripped for purchase at the edge of the concrete platform, grinding quietly away at the pumice-smooth surface, while her clawed mechanical hand dug into the firm material with enough strength to keep her anchored. Her muscles strained, unused to pull-ups like this, and the gears in her arm churned and whined, threatening to slip out of alignment and send her hurtling to her probable death. She ground her teeth together, let out a powerful yell of survival, and hauled herself up onto the platform just in time to catch its latest slipping. Rolling onto her back, she stared upwards at the planetarium night sky winking back at her, grid-like array of stars mapped out to pinpoint her position within the world.
232/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 630
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 38
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Dad whistled to himself quietly, work shoes falling down onto the ground with repeated, slow footfalls, the soles of them making a satisfyingly thick little clack while he walked through the kitchen doors and up to the counter. John was asleep on the couch, quietly snoring, so he grabbed a couple of little washrags from the sink before reaching down into one of the cabinets to pull down that little magic bullet blender thingy, the tiny one, that made just enough milkshake for a single serving. Or two servings, if you were on a diet, which Dad decidedly wasn't. He had to make sure it was muffled, since even the radio playing out top 40 dad rock hits wouldn't be enough to muffle the tiny little appliance's roar, and he didn't want to wake up his child. That would suck!
233/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 659
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 46
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Rose took in a deep breath of smoke, watching the skyline dye itself red with haze. Collected particulate matter in the atmosphere blocked out wavelengths of light in a way inscrutable to her, ever-the-magician, never-the-scientist. She was sure some people she knew would have a more informative, academic answer to the sky's angry, hungry tint, but Rose simply saw it as the inevitable effects of the fire around her. She grabbed the skin-like bark of a nearby tree, rough, hardy, capable of withstanding anything besides her, and it burst into a peal of yellowish-blue flames like a sodium flare. There was certainly something to be said about the viability of combustion-based seed-scattering, but it paled in the face of such intense heat, even the pinecones consumed in their entirety.
234/365
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The first thing that startled Jade when she awoke was the feeling of no longer having the bed beneath her, only with blankets on top of her. Humans were not meant, bodily, brain-ly, to be in the air for extended periods of time, to no longer feel the ground beneath them. Jade was certainly no exception. Her brain, in every way it could signal, was telling her, screaming at her, yelling at her that she was falling, she was in defiance of gravity, and that she would soon hit the ground. But, in stark defiance of her brain, that moment never came. She was simply suspended there, hovering an inch over her bed, blankets hanging over her while she tried to figure out what was going on. Then, it hit her that she was hovering, and she immediately flipped out a little bit, scrambling around and tossing the blankets off of her.
235/365
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Rose was absolutely fed up with this bullshit.
236/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 632
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 46
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Mom whistled to herself quietly, running her fingers through her hair while her vacuum hummed in sync to her lip-tunes. They harmonized at low volume together, making her wine glasses rattle on the table as she passed by - or maybe that was her heavy footsteps or the vacuum's growl. Or perhaps some combination of all three? It was certainly an interesting phenomenon, considering how it stopped when she stopped whistling. She'd certainly have to do some investigation, because it drew her attention for about two minutes while she repeatedly vacuumed the same square of marble tiling. Back and forth, back and forth, too absorbed in the vibration of the wine glass to care much for cleaning. Then, the wine glass, presumably fed up with her bullshit, shattered, and she just found that fascinating.
237/365
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Blearily, with the rumbling sounds of an infinite Atlantic Coast thunderstorm hurricane slapping her window like comic relief in a romantic comedy, Rose stumbled her way downstairs. She was fashionably dressed for the occasion, in boxers and a pyjama top, neither of which flattered her in any particular way. Additional un-flattery was provided by the small line of drool that had dried out at the corner of her lips, and her messy hair which, headband-less, flowed every way and every direction. It looked like she had been cartoon electrocuted and her hair was going everywhere and her skeleton was about to become visible through rapid 2-frame flickers of an x-ray. That sort of "hair flying everywhere". I'm sure you get the picture.
238/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 634
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 29
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Rose sat in her favorite comfortable recliner, bleary from a recent nap. It seemed she was taking many of those recently - perhaps it was seasonal depression. Or maybe the normal amount of depression. Or perhaps she had developed the feared spontaneous airborne narcolepsy, which was not a thing that actually existed, but it was fun to think about a world where it did. She pulled open her still-warm laptop on her lap and immediately opened up her personal notepad, a textedit document labeled "scrathcpad.txt", an error she made exactly once and then decided to never fix. Either because it was funny, or she was intensely neurotic, take your pick. She wrote down, typed down, even, in her little document: "World where you can transmit narcolepsy through an airborne virus", and then closed her computer.
239/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 619
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 37
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It was three in the morning, and thus, Rose was plum tired as shit and just about ready to be done with her night. She knew, of course, in her heart of hearts that she would be asleep by no earlier than five, but her eyes burnt so sweetly, bloodshot in the corners, singed with computer screen. She had been writing and working all night, and maybe a little bit goofing off as well, squandering the hours away until it felt like the sun was only instants from coming back up and ruining the potentiality for restful sleep without sleep aids. She yawned quietly, stretched backwards until her back cracked in a quiet choir, and then shut her computer, knowing that if she did not, she would be on it writing for hours.
240/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 607
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 28
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Rose stared outside the uncomfortably wide window in her bedroom and watched as large individual snowflakes drifted down from their place in the eternal sky down to the earth. It had always struck her how strange the particularly wide window was for a place that wasn't, say, a hallway, how it stretched across the length of her bed and then a little bit extra. There were no separators for it partitioning the space into something more neat and even, and most curtain rods except for the very expensive extra long ones weren't long enough for her to put on blackout curtains. The sunlight woke her up every morning until she learned to buy a sleep mask, but even that was hit or miss. And, besides, she wasn't napping, so there was nothing really to wake her up from. Just idly musing about how strange the wide window was.
241/365
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Rose grumbled quietly to herself, waking up to a wall of white that had consumed the entirety of her upstairs window, indicating a level of severe frost or snowfall previously unprecedented. Either that, or, judging from the way that the snow clung from the outside and the wind whistled at her ears, a snowstorm was outside. She suspected a snowstorm above the other options, from the gentle way the wisps of white ablated away from the exterior of the manor, and the fact that it was 1 AM and yet her window was painted white. Either the world had ended while she was asleep and the snow had reached all the way up to the second floor, or it was currently actively snowing and that was blocking her vision. Either way, she was very much in a mood for ice cream.
242/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 691
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 26
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Summary
Karkat frequently had poor dreams when he slept, when he shut his eyes and allowed sleep to overtake him. The process itself was agonizing, cleaning himself thoroughly, lying down in the receptacle for his idle body, and waiting there until unconsciousness triumphed over consciousness. It never was quick or easy, regardless of whatever medication he put himself through, or what techniques he applied, or how much he spent his precious time before bed meditating. Even drowsiness and grogginess was no aid to the arduous procedure. He could fall asleep concussed, two steps from passing out, and it would still be slow and agonizing. Karkat's brain gripped tightly onto its livelihood thoroughly against his will.
243/365
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Rose's alarm clock began to blare incessantly, broadcasting deep, bright noise into her eardrums in a way precision designed to make her as aggravated as possible. Her eyes fluttered open and she blindly groped for her phone until she could find the "stop" button and slapped it with her thumb several times until she hit the touch screen in just the right way to do just that. Then, it began blasting again, and she came to the disconcerting realization that she pressed the snooze button instead of the stop button and had passed out for nine more minutes. The clock said 2:09 AM, which was exactly what she expected it to say when her eyes finally opened and she hit the stop button but for real this time.
244/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 647
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 30
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Rose had a perfectly functional couch in the house, but, like the majority of the manor, it went underutilized. There were rooms that hadn't been traveled in for years, an entire basement lab Rose was dimly aware of from owning the house's blueprints but one that she had never set foot in for the duration of her prior extant life. She would never set foot in it even afterwards, not even to clean up her late mother's belongings that she knew, similarly dimly, were down there in her bedroom. She had already sent a clean-up crew to handle the dirty work for her, and there was likely not anything left other than a bed, a mattress, some laundry that had probably become eaten by the moths by now.
245/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 621
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 24
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She first met Vriska on Tinder.
246/365
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Jade's fingers gently glanced against each door as she passed by them, one by one, in turn. Feeling material with her fingertips, rough, painted wood giving way to the plasticky wallpaper in between. She glanced from side to side, each glass window revealing a portal into another world for her, so many options, so little time. Many of the dogs in the rescue appeared undisturbed by her presence, old, weary things that had seen many a family pass by, look through, and ultimately decide against making it their time. There were dogs with all sorts of gentle maladies, a couple missing limbs, a couple missing eyes, some of them perfectly healthy but looking for a place to ride out their last couple of glory years. There was only one reason why Jade was here, and it should be an obvious one.
247/365
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Rose was of a particular opinion that she hoped more people contemporary to her would share, but, unfortunately, was kept squarely in the lonesome. This wasn't due to the fact that her opinion was unpopular, but rather, that she did not know many nutritional anthropologists, religious historians, or other human beings in general. It was certain that many of them would agree with this rather simple statement; there was something primal about bread. Something ritual about it, eating bread with your bare hands, without deli meats and cheeses in between (oh she was a bad Jew indeed--), or without any fillings. Perhaps butter, if you were really feeling saucy, but, that aside, there was a communalness (communality? community? Oh! Community) to the art of pulling apart a fresh loaf of bread with your bare hands and eating it with another human being.
248/365
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Equius winced quietly as his bruised knuckles met wrought iron and riveted steel, denting it, sending robot face hurtling three feet back into the nearest wall. He panted, just as quietly, and wiped a line of sweat off his brow with the back of his head, flicking it onto the ground, where more sweat surrounded him in a gentle puddle. He sure was sweating a lot, which was a thing he did frequently because he was a very sweaty Alternian, and not a human as the past checks notes several dozen if not hundred stories would lead you to believe. Equius was definitely a hale and hearty Alternian, with rich indigo blood, dark circles under his eyes, and very bruised knuckles. Sure, he could punch a robot in half, but he couldn't ignore the laws of physics. Nobody could. Yet.
249/365
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Aradia woke up from her recuperacoon with a quiet start and a sharp inhale of breath, lurching upwards out of it like a rainbow drinker, gasping sopor into her lungs that was quickly coughed back out into her sleeping receptacle. She got up and out, stumbling over the edge of her recuperacoon, and fell down onto the floor of her hive, running a hand through her hair as she slowly pulled herself back up into a standing position. The bath mat underneath her recuperacoon eagerly drank the remaining sopor dripping off of her for recycling, and she grabbed a nearby vacubrush to get the worst of it out of her hair. Her mane, forced to detangle by the squirming brush in her hand, ached quietly at the roots, and Aradia quietly wished she could afford a better brush. She retired to her ablution chamber, and refreshed her hygiene needs, returning to her hive with a fresh set of clothes.
250/365
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Change was inevitable, but that didn't mean it had to be scary.
251/365
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Dave shook, his body paralytic in rictus formation, upturned into a full-limb grimace on the couch of a stuffy apartment in Houston. It was a cold winter day, with a surprisingly light sprinkle of snow outside the window - both surprising for the fact that there was snow at all, and that it was only perhaps a light sprinkling. That, however, didn't stop Dave, yesterday-soaked from an incoming rainstorm, from feeling like he was on fire. Perhaps he had been hasty when he ran outside to his car to get his wallet that he had forgotten, since it wasn't like he used it for anything in the intervening now and then, and all he had gotten in return was sick. Unfortunately for Dave, he was also very stupid sometimes, which was why he forgot his umbrella in the car yesterday too, and forgot to bring it back with him. And now, we are at today.
252/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 724
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 35
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Summary
Dave's broken sword held outstretched from his arm like a dowsing rod, scraping against the stone of the deep underground dungeon. It was, after all, snapped off cleanly at the tip, and thus there was no worries about damaging its cutting edge any further. It made a quiet little spray of sparks that helped light up the floor, and provided good detailing as to where the edges of the inner chambers were, lest he accidentally put too much of his body weight into a hidden mechanism with his hands and accidentally summon a gigantic boulder or somesuch. No, Dave was not in the mood for hidden mechanisms OR giant boulders. The hilt of his sword, stretched out just an inch ish in front of him, bumped into the wall, and Dave rounded the corner until it hit empty space. He swung clumsily forward in the dark, hit the other edge of the wall, and made the reasonable assumption he had found the way deeper.
253/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 681
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 23
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Summary
The air was filled with two noises, primarily, the ones easiest heard on first listen. There was, of course, the very old refurbished radio that played a constant medley of 90s and early 2000s metal hits throughout the kitchen, an omnipresent fixture in the refurbished old cottage on the coast, and the very loud sizzling of meat on buttered cast iron, imbuing the very air itself with the most delectable scents imaginable to all sorts of minds, human and canine alike. Such a cooking environment could only be found in the home of... thousands of Gen X and Millennial adults, sure, but also the home of one freshly-moved-in Jade Harley, and her very small dog that could navigate around the world only through her senses of touch and smell (and proprioception, and her taste worked fine but that wasn't as much of a navigatory sense, ANYWAY).
254/365
Series
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Summary
Rose was having one of those days again. To be fair to her, though, almost every single day was one of those days, but this one was definitely among the "one of those days"-est of the one of those days that she'd had in recent memory. That was to say, it was pretty bad, and definitely, definitively, a day of which some people had one of. Royalties had come in on her latest novel, so she certainly had the money for it, but even the idea of opening up Grubhub or Uber Eats or calling someone on the phone to order some food seemed like far too much effort for her scrawny body. Sure, she could order Popeyes, and doubtlessly it would be chicken-y and delicious, but it would also take two hours to reach the isolated Lalonde Manor, and that simply just would not do for the hunger needs that she had right now.
255/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 645
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 29
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Summary
John, bunny slippers equipped for a night of debauchery (i.e video games) and fun (i.e going to sleep too late and waking up the next morning feeling overly groggy), watched the old, stuttering microwave in the ancestral Egbert suburban home churn quietly. The essential elements of a microwave were all there, of course, the internal magnetron, the glass disk thing for the carousel, the buttons that made a beep when you pressed them, but the nostalgic elements remained as salient in John's mouth as the expected taste of salty ramen bouillon. The gentle hum of its ongoing operation, the slowly failing light inside that offered no real ability to see what was actually cooking, given that the microwave was well above eye-level to begin with. Perfectly functional for someone of the late Mr. Egbert's height, but for John, reaching in and grabbing the plate or bowl was often a blind gamble of "get burnt or not". Such was life!
256/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 640
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 2
- Hits:
- 21
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Summary
Dave Strider stood in the center of an octagonal chamber, surrounded by triptych and canvas in shades of black, with earbuds in his ears. He was never a fan of earbuds, but he hadn't been able to find his actual headphones in a dog's age, and when you had to listen to music without being one of those people on the subway that liked to listen to music on their phone but with the volume up for everyone to hear, earbuds would simply have to do. Even though they were the really crappy Apple earbuds that he could never fit around the pieces of his ear correctly, and always hurt to have in more than 15 minutes, it was the price you paid for not being a prick in public. No good deed goes un-punished indeed.
257/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 612
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 36
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Summary
It was a beautiful day outside in the ancestral Egbert home (going back two generations) in a sleepy Washington suburb. Beauty, of course, was entirely within the eye of any particular beholder, but John always had a certain kind of affinity for dark grey clouds and roiling thunderstorms, with every clap of lightning striking the trees nearby eliciting a wave of calm neurotransmitters to wash over them. It was these days like this, the stormy days in the early fall where the sun was blocked out completely behind the storm clouds and cold fronts washed over the landscape like a great, grand tidal wave, but not so strong as to knock all the power out, that John found the most relaxing. Sitting in an old office chair slowly losing all of its skin, under a Snuggie (one of those blankets with sleeves, also old, also ratty), in bunny slippers... nothing better.
258/365
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Summary
Rose got home, quiet and full, her stomach comprised mostly of bagels and cream cheese. She did not like Yom Kippur as an event that much, namely, because she hated having to deal with other people and she also wasn't a fan of the fasting, but participated because it was what was expected of her. Even though she was a fully grown adult who made decisions for herself in all other cases, when it came to dealing with the whims of Jewish holidays, no she wasn't. Kicking her shoes off and replacing them with her favorite pair of bunny slippers, Rose proceeded to make an excellent case for modernization by ignoring the phone calls ringing through her pockets out of exhaustion and not assuming the form of the tangential rabbit that was desired of her. No, instead of doing anything else, instead of cleaning her home, or doing anything at all, Rose fell down onto the bed and passed out instead.
259/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 623
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 44
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Summary
Rose pressed her little neatly wrapped electronic RFID laminated card that she had surreptitiously tucked into her wallet when nobody was watching (as she was supposed to, of course) against the big metal-and-plastic lock securing the hotel room shut. There was a quiet chime, accompanied by a bright green LED, and a loud, noticeable click-kCHUk as the hotel bedroom's lock opened up. The carpets in the hallway leading up to it were, as always, immaculately cleaned and ornately patterned, with swirling floral stripes of light tans and reds among much darker brick reds and blacks leading all throughout the many hallways of the hotel. Inside her morbid writer's brain, Rose wondered if those colors were the best to hide grime and blood among. Then, she shook that thought away, and pushed the heavy hotel bedroom door open.
260/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 663
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 29
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Summary
Rose quietly yawned to herself as she trekked the halls of the ancestral Lalonde Manor (constructed and established 1997), her slippers dragging along the bit of old, dusty carpeting that she really should get around to cleaning one of these days. Little crackles of static electricity climbed up her semi-shaven legs and then discharged harmlessly into the air as she touched the nearby walls. Behind her, an old cat, long in the tooth, as the saying went, trailed behind her. Every so often, he would mewl for attention, and Rose would offer him a quiet, moderately enthused shushing, leading him down the stairs. She took each step slow, one at a time, turning around to make sure Jaspers could follow her down just as slowly. She didn't want another incident like last time, where she rushed down the steps and his old bones leapt after her in the way that cats did sometimes. Thankfully, he wasn't hurt, but it wasn't a risk she wanted to take.
261/365
Series
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Summary
Rose smiled to herself, a quiet, secret smile, looking out the window at the dreary, overcast day. There wasn't a sunbeam in sight, just like she liked it, the thin bands of sunlight absorbed by the layers of cloud overhead, deep and grey and pendulous, portending rain in the near future. It was a good thing she had an umbrella with her at practically all times outside the house, both out of paranoia and as a fashion statement of some kind, bright lavender stripes on thick black material with a wide... whatever the term for the umbrella part of the umbrella was. It was both an excellent tool for warding off the imminent rain, with little splatters and droplets already beginning to make themselves known on the windows, and to, in true fortysomething ex-goth fashion, ward off the sun from her tender eyes.
262/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 713
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 36
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Summary
Jade yawned quietly, slipping into her home with a loud, stumbling sort of door-slam-open motion, loud enough to leave a small dent in the wall (that she cared very little about). More importantly, it was loud enough to shake the ground, thus alerting her lovely Becky that she was home so that the small puppy, still as blind and deaf as the day she was adopted, could begin sniffing the air and charging through it to headbutt Jade's ankles. The door rebounded quietly, shaking a little bit in the process, just bouncing into range of Jade's foot. With a little "Hup!" she donkey kicked it shut, slamming it back into its frame, and after a couple of seconds, the automatic lock (that she built) engaged. Sure, maybe she shouldn't kick doors shut if she wanted to avoid having a frame blowout, but also, she could do what she wanted.
263/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 746
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 23
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Summary
There was a park, not too far from, but not too close to either, the ancestral Strider Apartment (in the family for the past twenty five years, because signing new leases was annoying). It was just the right distance, where Dave was tired from a walk there, and thus getting his daily exercise in, but not so far away that it was a miserable experience getting there in the summer sun. Sometimes, Dave took a parasol with him, a habit he had gained from a certain New York-bound friend, and ignored the people glancing at him by knowing that he was much cooler than them in now two ways. The two ways were temperature and also sunglasses-ness. Those were the two ways he was cooler than most people who were looking at him funny for using a parasol. Get it? It's a pun. Get it? Anyway, moving on.
264/365
Series
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Summary
Well, actually, he pepper sprays himself, but "maces himself" is a better title.
265/365
Series
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Summary
Vriska got up from her bed in a way that distinctly lacked all manner of grace, motion, or ease.
266/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 632
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 28
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Summary
Karkat, alone in his bedroom, stared out into the quiet morning sun with the sort of silent, enraged disdain you saved for the person who murdered your husband and/or wife.
267/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 741
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 37
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Summary
Equius quietly, awkwardly, nervously, in all the ways he typically did, closed the little plastic gate behind him.
268/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 721
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 10
- Hits:
- 72
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Summary
Terezi quietly hummed under her breath, at just the sort of low volume it took that she could feel the vibration in her throat but hopefully wasn't bothering anyone in line.
269/365 (nice)
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 609
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 37
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Summary
Really, when you thought about it, this place sort of had it all.
270/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 634
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 2
- Hits:
- 38
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Summary
Dirk languished, both quietly and with little fanfare, in the small kitchenette he called his own in a small apartment that was only technically his.
271/365
Series
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Summary
Dave Strider yawned quietly in his window seat on a plane, staring out the aforementioned viewing receptacle.
273/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 630
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 27
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Summary
"Those are bad for you, you know." She said, approaching Rose from behind, her clothes all glitter and shine in the dim lights of the bar's exterior alleyway.
272/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 637
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 20
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Summary
Aradia could take her pleasure in the small joys that October brought to the ancestral Megido pasture, out in approximately "bumfuck nowhere". The cool autumn winds, the return of pumpkin spice flavored things in the nearest Starbucks 30 minutes away (what? it tasted good), and, of course, the arrival of the vaunted HALLOWEEN THE FIRST, the world's most important holiday month that lasted an entire month.
274/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 627
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 29
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Summary
Rose stared at her laptop computer screen with the sort of mild desperation that only authors running up against deadlines night after night could muster, a sort of dead-eyed, slack-jawed staring that was only intensified by the presence of mild euphoria at the events coming up the next day.
275/365
Series
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Summary
Rose watched Jaspers amble around on the floor along his fat haunches, chasing after some sort of invisible spirit that seemed to capture his attention in the inimitable way that any particular gust of wind could capture a cat's attention.
276/365
Series
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Summary
Jade whistled to herself quietly, rummaging through ill-organized cabinets on the underside of her clusterfuck kitchen in an attempt to find the necessary tools for what her heart and stomach desired.
277/365
Series
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Summary
Rose Lalonde sat in her middlest-comfiest chair. Not too nice, but not too uncomfortable. Just a solid, middle-of-the-road chair, with a slightly underfirm cushion that made it possible to feel the hard material underneath, poking and prodding at her. Uncomfortable enough, in a very guided, meditative decision, to keep her constantly aware of her body.
278/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 630
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 29
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Summary
Rose was lying down, very quietly, on top of her bed, staring at the ceiling. The wall, the marble pillar that held a great deal of the household up, had lost its luster. She was a ceiling-staring girl now.
279/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 659
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 36
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Summary
"Don't try this at home, kids." Roxy said, mostly to herself, as her screwdriver worked at the edges of the windows with the sort of precision only a person who regularly liked to break and enter into places could manage.
280/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 671
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 40
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Summary
Roxy did several things in quick succession as she approached the front door of the newly refurbished Lalonde Manor. First, she bonked her head against the door, as if to satisfy her desire to know if it was, in fact, a hardwood door far too thick to bust down with a meagre and exhausted headbutt. Check. It was, still, even after the last fifteen times she tried to headbutt her front door down. Then, like a normal person, she fished her keys out from her pocket and unlocked the door, leaning on the handle enough to actually allow her entrance into the empty home.
281/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 647
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 32
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Summary
Jaspers, in all of his infinite regality, feline princehood in its entirety, did his best saunter into the living room of that great white structure he lived inside of, had lived inside of for years, and would likely continue living inside of for quite some time more in the future.
282/365
Series
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Summary
Jade stared down at the accumulated pile of wood with narrow, sleepy eyes, the air filled with the gentle lulling pitter-patter of rain against canopy leaves.
283/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 647
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 29
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Summary
DAVE: yugioh
ROSE: Gesundheit.284/365
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Summary
Aradia, ever the lover of languid dirt, wiped the erstwhile root-carrying soil onto her apron, and then wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her gloves.
285/365
Series
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Summary
Dave stared out the window of his apartment, wondering why, of all the states in the glorious union of the United States of America, this particular bird had picked his as its home.
286/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 625
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 56
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Summary
It was white. Pitch white.
287/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 685
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 30
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Summary
All toasters, as we know full well at this point, toast toast.
288/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 684
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 42
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Summary
Just another night on the porch.
289/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 644
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 27
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Summary
Rose took a nice, deep breath.
290/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 642
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 24
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Summary
The beautiful sun dipped below her grey-banded sky, leaving ripples of pinkish-orange light casting through layers of overcast cloud - the usual New Jersey shoreline sunset.
291/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 623
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 18
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Summary
There wasn't really a "good view" in outer space, but that didn't stop some people.
292/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 604
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 29
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Summary
Never a dull moment on board an Alternian cleanup vessel, even in the dull moments like these.
293/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 618
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 27
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Summary
Aradia, fresh out of cryosleep for the first time, quietly jabbed at her meal.
294/365
Series
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Summary
There were, sometimes, fun little perks that came with mandatory conscription.
295/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 620
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 33
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Summary
Rose stared at the crackling fire with an inimitable degree of spite burning in her chest.
296/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 700
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 21
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Summary
Dave's hands gripped the handle of his sword, sweaty and anxious, heartbeat thumping quietly in his knuckles.
297/365
Series
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Summary
Jaspers was generally not the kind of animal that abhorred the rain.
298/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 621
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 25
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Summary
Mituna stumbled into his apartment with all the grace and fluidity of a particularly ungraceful, unfluid hippopotamus.
299/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 638
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 103
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Summary
Rose sat on the porch in Lalonde Manor, contemplating the starscape above her.
300/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 645
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 23
-
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Summary
Dave hit the highway, merged into the leftmost lane, and immediately hit heel to pedal as hard as he could manage.
301/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 646
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 35
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Summary
Dave's car rolled to a gentle halt in front of today's place of choice, shitty little brakes taking their sweet time slowing him to a complete stop.
302/365
Series
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Summary
The sound of running faucet behind Rose put her at ease only slightly, her shoulders sagging with both stress and relaxation in equal measure.
303/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 635
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 49
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Summary
"Happy Halloween, you crazy kids! And make sure you get home safe!"
304/365
Series
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Summary
Rose woke up at 4 in the morning with a cat on her belly.
305/365
Series
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Summary
The aluminum tin was refrigerator cold, quickly coming to room temperature-ish with the anti-heat bleeding from its thin shell.
306/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 659
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 23
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Summary
With all the grace of a particularly drunken hippopotamus, Rose Lalonde, completely sober, stumbled out of the shower.
307/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 715
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 31
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Summary
Rose shot up from her bed, heart pounding, fists shaking, fingers clenched up into her palm.
308/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 645
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 31
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Summary
There was a rock, large, flat, covered in moss, sitting out in a clearing in the woods where Jade Harley lived now.
309/365
Series
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Summary
There was a small, mostly East-coast local establishment that Rose liked to visit on warm summer days like this, when it was open.
310/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 669
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 34
-
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Summary
Sometimes there just wasn't a rational explanation for one's actions.
311/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 710
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 39
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Summary
Unfortunately for the astute reader who might've guessed at some manner of romantic entanglement, leading to argument, leading to one Rose Lalonde (and feline companion) sleeping on the couch, there was no such thing in today's continuing tale.
312/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 630
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 37
-
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Summary
Rose blearily stumbled back to her bedroom clutching her stomach in the way that one often did when they enjoyed just a little too much food.
313/365
Series
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Summary
Waking up on a Thursday was always the least desirable part of said Thursday, shortly followed by "every other part of it".
314/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 642
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 40
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Summary
Rose stared at her computer screen with a slight nauseous tinge to her expression.
315/365
Series
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Summary
They say a watched pot never boils, but Rose was determined to prove that particular silly adage wrong.
316/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 633
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 30
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Summary
Rose stared down into the bowl of amber broth like it was gold from mythical cities, glistening and glimmering in the natural sunlight filtering through the nearly windowless open concept kitchen/dining room/living room/foyer combination.
317/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 627
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 28
-
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Summary
Rose stared at the small cut that had marked itself across the surface of her palm, trying to remember the last time she saw red.
318/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 728
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 36
-
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Summary
Rose stared at it like it was an alien fetus sitting right on her work desk, a small bag of marijuana infused gummies that she barely had the presence of mind left to not devour all at once.
319/365
Series
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Summary
Grass grows, birds sing, sun shines, and Rose sits outside on the deck of her insular manor, passed down from the ghost of a dead woman to the ghost of a living woman.
320/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 647
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 31
-
Tags
Summary
Jade didn't have much to do during the day, and even less to do during the night.
321/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 621
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 44
-
Tags
Summary
Dave watched the clouds roll overhead in that particular way that clouds did at night but avoided during the day, colored by the dim yellow light of the moon, reflected glow from the nearby sun out of view over the horizon.
322/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 705
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 33
-
Tags
Summary
It had been a while since Rose last picked up smoking as a hobby.
323/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 625
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 27
-
Tags
Summary
Rose was not the sort of person that left the house often, but if she did, it would certainly be for a cultural event like orchestra night.
324/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 726
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 17
-
Tags
Summary
Despite his rather ridiculous verbose garrulousness that he liked to display around friends, when it came to the real world, where he was just another person on the street, Dave was startlingly rather shy.
325/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 717
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 25
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Summary
It was raining outside quite heavily, a not-uncommon occurrence around this part of New York, and Rose, hilariously enough, had gotten caught in it.
326/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 693
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 26
-
Tags
Summary
Rose had been eating a lot of bagels recently.
327/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 673
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 28
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Summary
Rose stared at the non-stick pan heating up on her old, slightly grimy, slightly greasy electric stove, and for a moment, she contemplated the universe.
328/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 615
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 29
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Tags
Summary
Dirk Strider did not like to make food the way you and I liked to make food. His process was... considerably more eclectic.
329/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 703
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 17
- Hits:
- 92
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Summary
AKA "Dave Strider accidentally mixes up his multivitamin gummies with his THC gummies".
330/365
Series
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Tags
Summary
Rose Lalonde didn't much like feeling out of control.
331/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 658
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 25
-
Tags
Summary
It was the prime of the young Ms. Lalonde's life.
332/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 665
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 29
-
Tags
Summary
Rose stared at a small antique menorah (a Hannukiah, really, but who's counting?) like she expected it to get up suddenly one minute and begin singing songs to her.
333/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 650
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 36
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Tags
Summary
The ancestral Lalonde Tower stood tall, proud, unyielding against the horizon of its dark forestry. Then, another of its many stone bricks fell loose and hit the ground with a dull thud.
334/365
Series
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Summary
Rose watched her own face with a sense of resigned horror in the mirror.
335/365
Series
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Summary
Rose woke up to the unwelcome emotion of a ringing cell phone right next to her ear, exactly where she put it. When she stirred herself up enough from the unfamiliar childhood bedroom she was resting in to actually answer, the voice on the other end was that of an uncomfortable doctor. They delivered the news to Rose, who only replied with three words; "This morning?", followed shortly thereafter by; "Okay."
336/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 638
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 36
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Tags
Summary
Rose Lalonde, in her pyjamas, in bed, as usual, decided that today would be a mulligan day.
337/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 673
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 24
-
Tags
Summary
Rose woke up, the same way she did most other days this week.
338/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 690
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 24
-
Tags
Summary
Roxy, on one side, and the vast, uncaring wall on the other. And in between, freedom - at least for a couple of cycles.
339/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 628
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 29
-
Tags
Summary
Rose Lalonde sat in her usual writing environment with the usual amount of nonexistent motivation.
340/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 658
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 20
-
Tags
Summary
Rose stared blankly ahead into her bathroom mirror like she was expecting it to jump out and bite her, any second now.
341/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 625
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 25
-
Tags
Summary
Rose stared blankly ahead into her bathroom mirror like she was expecting it to jump out and bite her, any second now.
342/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 704
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 9
- Hits:
- 66
-
Tags
Summary
Rose stared blankly ahead into her bathroom mirror like she was expecting it to jump out and bite her, any second now.
343/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 671
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 27
-
Tags
Summary
Rose stared blankly ahead into her bathroom mirror like she was expecting it to jump out and bite her, any second now.
344/365
Series
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Tags
Summary
Rose stared blankly ahead into her bathroom mirror like she was expecting it to jump out and bite her, any second now.
345/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 640
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 22
-
Tags
Summary
Rose stared blankly ahead into her bathroom mirror like she was expecting it to jump out and bite her, any second now.
346/365
Series
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Tags
Summary
Dave never really liked airports all that much.
347/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 643
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 63
-
Tags
Summary
Rose awoke to the steady beeping sound of the smoke alarm going off. Or was it the carbon monoxide detector? Either way, it was angry at her.
348/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 641
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 34
-
Tags
Summary
She had the bread for it, after all.
349/365
Series
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Tags
Summary
The delicatessen specialty.
350/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 693
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 27
-
Tags
Summary
Rose woke up to the most baffling thing she could imagine waking up to short of the planet falling apart into tiny little pieces.
351/365
Series
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Tags
Summary
Rose woke up to the most baffling thing she could imagine waking up to short of the planet falling apart into tiny little pieces.
352/365
Series
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Summary
No matter how much she wrote by herself, every draft needed to be edited.
353/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 654
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 24
-
Tags
Summary
When you were an eccentric millionaire made wealthy by the runaway success of your weird artsy novels that you were certain nobody actually liked, you could afford to burn money on very silly things.
354/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 649
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 33
-
Tags
Summary
Rose sat in her shower, curled up into a little ball, letting the water run over her.
355/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 625
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 34
-
Tags
Summary
Rose quietly listened to the hum of her box fan dragged out into her kitchen table so that it could help keep her cool at a time like this when her body was determined to make her overheat as much as possible.
356/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 651
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 38
-
Tags
Summary
This was truly the depths of self-debasement. No, she could go further, but it sure felt that way.
357/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 627
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 2
- Hits:
- 36
-
Tags
Summary
Lalonde Manor had a fireplace, dusty, covered in a fine layer of burnt-in soot. A fireplace that was rarely used, but it was there, and it existed, and it hungered for wood and coal like any other good fireplace did.
358/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 603
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 29
-
Tags
Summary
When Rose was a child, out of a sense of misplaced but ultimately well-intentioned paranoia, she always counted the amount of Oreos she could find on the rare occasion that her mother purchased her one of those big family packs of Oreos.
359/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 703
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 10
- Hits:
- 55
-
Tags
Summary
One of the great things about being an adult, Rose mused to her self on a frequent basis, was that she could buy whatever she wanted and nobody could really stop her.
360/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 718
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 45
-
Tags
Summary
The best thing about your house being a cheap modernist knock-off of Fallingwaters was that your house was on top of its own convenient natural pool.
361/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 659
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 42
-
Tags
Summary
Rose was trying hard to sleep. She was trying very, very hard.
362/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 660
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 39
-
Tags
Summary
363/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 704
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 47
-
Tags
Summary
364/365
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 624
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 10
- Hits:
- 106
-
Tags
Summary
365/365
Series