Based on the work of @janestrider, @khemi, and myself involving the Homestuck Kids becoming a literal god mythos in the new universe. I assessed the attributes of the original Earth zodiac and merged them to create these new ones.

THE WITCH: May 6 – June 20

(Previously Gemini, Taurus)

Positives: Curious, affectionate, adaptable, reliable, stable.

Negatives: Stubborn, inconsistent, dislikes confinement.

THE HEIR: June 21 – August 7

(Previously Cancer, Leo.)

Positives: Loyal, persuasive, cheerful, humorous, warm-hearted.

Negatives: Arrogant, moody, suspicious.

THE KNIGHT: August 8 – September 22

(Previously Virgo, Leo)

Positives: Kind, hardworking, creative, passionate, loyal.

Negatives: Worries a lot, erratic, overly critical of self, hates asking for help.

THE SEER: September 23 – November 6

(Previously Libra, Scorpio)

Positives: Diplomatic, social, resourceful, brave, a “true friend.”

Negatives: Secretive, fierce, easily carries a grudge.

THE MAID: November 7 – December 21

(Previously Sagittarius, Scorpio)

Positives: Generous, fantastic sense of humor, resourceful, bold, values long, solid friendships.

Negatives: Distrusting, impatient, dislikes passive personalities.

THE PRINCE: December 22 – February 4

(Previously Capricorn, Aquarius)

Positives: Responsible, disciplined, progressive (both in improving themselves and others), independent, enjoys fighting for a cause.

Negatives: Struggles with emotional expression, temperamental, uncompromising, know-it-all.

THE PAGE: February 5 – March 20

(Previously Pisces, Aquarius)

Positives: Compassionate, a one-of-a-kind, gentle, intuitive, thrives when alone but appreciates friends.

Negatives: Possesses a desire to escape reality, overly trusting, aloof, too often a martyr.

THE ROGUE: March 21 – May 5

(Previously Aries, Taurus)

Positives: Courageous, confident, enthusiastic, devoted, a strong leader.

Negatives: Impulsive, aggressive, dislikes complications, dislikes insecurity (including their own).

Out of Tune

Prompts are open. Thank you anon this one was super fun! All credit for this AU to ikimaru, and please watch Steven Universe. Please.

“Emerald, dammit-”

Emerald is panting, swaying to catch his balance, before he grits his teeth as you and makes an irritated huff through his dumb nose, gesturing at you angrily. You aren’t shocked you’re on the floor. This always happens. If someone wasn’t such an asshole with where he put his feet, maybe you could actually keep a decent beat going!

“Doggone it, Topaz, if you stopped acting like you hadn’t the foggiest about how I dance, maybe we could actually sync this lousy thing and manage to fuse!”

“Maybe you should remember to adjust to the better dancer here,” you snap back, not allowing even a hint of doubt in the thought. Maybe he’s right, maybe you should soften- No! He’s wrong, you’ve always been the lead! He should remember that.

“Guys! Stop!” John raises his hands at you, and the worry in his voice is enough the flicker on your gem fades along with the thoughts of smacking some sense into the ungrateful mineral before you. “Come on.”

He sighs, weakly flapping his fingers around like he can pluck words from the air, worrying his lip before he speaks again. “I don’t get it, Rubellite is always telling me how great you guys used to be at fusing. She told me you used to fuse so much people didn’t even realise there were two of you! But, uh. How do I put this? You guys kind of suck.”

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Hey! I saw the post about the three-way locket, and I thought I’d let you know a similar one DOES exist, which I recommend for fellow Poly partners! I bought this gorgeous little four-slot locket in Hobby Lobby in their trinkets section for about $6, and while I’m yet to pick the right pictures to fill it, I was overjoyed to find a locket with more than two slots! :D


Hey there, khemi!

Thank you so much for this submission! I love this so much, I had no idea they actually existed - it’s so beautiful! (And, perfect for quads, triads, v’s/y’s and even multi-platonic relationships!) 

(This is talking about this post)

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Prompts are open. I watch way too many of these kind of videos so I was all over this. In my brain John is like a less sweet-as-sugar Markiplier, and Dirk is almost certainly a Ray-style fan-fave Twitch gamer. (John playing horror games with the Ghostbusters music as his outro is my new aesthetic.)

For whatever it’s worth, you were very drunk during the stream.

Honestly, you aren’t even sure how you remembered to upload it, but there it is, with a much larger number of views than you expected, and twice as many comments as normal.

Okay, well. At least the traces of your inebriation are all over the title, and the description, if you can even call the jumble of words down there descriptive.

You squint, sipping your coffee, dreading what you did wrong, other than your abuse of the English language. Bad things are what usually what gets the comments- your mistakes, the moments you slip up and say something offensive in the wrong ways, the times you mention something you didn’t know was as big a deal as it is.

You glance at the comments with trepidation.

Oh no.

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Online each month, the Roosevelt Library highlights works of art from its collections that are rarely seen by the public. This month we feature an oil painting of Bab El Khémis in Marrakech, Morocco, by Marius Hubert-Robert.

On January 24, 1943, following the Casablanca Conference, Roosevelt and Churchill traveled to Marrakech, Morocco, where they spent the evening at a large villa occupied by the US Vice-Consul at Marrakech, Kenneth Pendar. Along the way, they passed by the entrance gate to Bab El Khémis, a large marketplace. Later on, FDR and Churchill watched the sunset over the Atlas Mountains from the tower in the nearby Majorelle Gardens, as shown in the photo above.

French artist Marius Hubert-Robert painted the entrance to Bab El Khémis in 1943. Soon after, he presented the painting to President Roosevelt.

Something in Common

crescentmoonrider said: For the femslash thing…. Jade and Terezi. First meeting. Terezi smells Jade and is smelled back. Jade is the first person to ever smell back.

Prompts are open. How could I refuse such a sweet request? I hope I do your raft justice. :)

She smells like a mowed meadow and the branches you used to hop between, with a hint of Nepeta’s Lusus shaking out its fur after the rain, and a metallic edge like you sucked your lucky coin too long and it got stuck all through the cavities in your head. All of it wraps into a sense of colours and life that lingers in front of you, a clear concept of her without needing an image, a vivid reality you don’t need to see.

You grin and press your tongue to the back of your teeth, itching to lick her and make all her fur stand on end, even if you said you wouldn’t. It would be so great just to mess her up and fill your mouth with everything that’s thick in your nose-

-Nose. Nose sounds. Sniffling. Snuffling.

You tense and your nose twitches like it’s hearing the common call of its kind, your ears straining to check you weren’t imagining it as the scent of ozone and grass shifts closer.

Then Jade sniffs right next to your face, and you gasp so loud she jumps back in surprise.

“Oh- I- Sorry! Sorry!” Her voice squeaks with a little embarrassment, the blur of scents that forms her in your mind shifting away. “It’s a bad habit, really, I’ve done it since- Well it’s been a while, sometimes I forget-!”

“What do I smell like?”

You interrupt her, and though her confusion is clear to all your blazing olfactory system, there are way more important things to deal with.

What do I smell like?”

Um.” Jade creeps forwards, leaning in until you can feel the wash of her warmth and then sniffing carefully up your cheek. Your grin is stretching it wide, tongue lashing over your lips as you fight back the urge to slurp up her face as the smell of it grows strong and clear. No! No. You need to find out.

“Like, uh. Chalk.” She hesitates, snuffling towards your ear. “You smell like dew, like a morning. And like when water dries in the sun and it’s all in the air. And… like hemp. Rope.”

“Perfect.” You’re bouncing, cane tap-tap-tapping an excited beat. “Perfect. You’re a meadow and a fuzzy Lusus and a big chunk of metal or- ooooh, maybe a big pool of blood-”

“Let’s stay with metal,” Jade decides hurriedly. “A meadow sounds nice.”

“You smell nice. And you smell, nice!” You cackle at your own joke, and you’re pleased when she doesn’t pull back so far. “What do the others smell like? Have you smelled them? We should smell them-”

Excitement overtakes you and you lunge, dragging your tongue straight up her cheek. She splutters, flails you away, but then she just snorts, snickers, lets out a guffaw and wipes her face clean.

“They did want us to find something in common, I guess!” Jade lowers her voice conspiratorially, and oh, you feel pity stirring in you. “We should start with Karkat. I bet he smells like seafood.”

“Let’s find out!”

You seize her arm and she squeezes your hand to her side, and her smile smells like the deadliest sunshine.

This, this right here, is the start of something that smells wonderful.

The Duel of the Gods

I have been thoroughly enjoying the Homestuck Mythos created by @khemi, @dirkar and @janestrider​ .   In that mythos, the Kids are in truth the Gods of the post-Sburb world.  Over time they lose their humanity and become Gods indeed, and then only legends.  I encourage you to go read the originals!  Dirkar created the mythos in this post;  Khemi wrote  two other Mythos fics (so far).  This is a tribute to the Mythos.

It was a warm afternoon in early autumn; the sun was sinking in the sky, and the dust sparkled golden in the slanting light.   Grandmother sat in her doorway and spun.   As she worked, she kept a watchful eye on the children who played in the dusty street, tumbling, fighting, and then making peace.   Her great-grandson Ulf picked up a rock and threw it at his father’s sister’s son Geir.  The rock missed Geir, but hit little Siv, who cried.  Grandmother set her distaff aside, then rose from her seat.   Little Siv had taken no great injury; Grandmother kissed the bump and set her down on her feet.   Then she stared down at Ulf, who tried to avoid her gaze, but then sulkily apologized to Siv.  

“And also to Geir!  You should not be throwing rocks, for eyes do not grow back in the head.” Even more sulkily, Ulf apologized to Geir. Grandmother shook her head, returned to her doorstep, then asked, “Who will listen to a story?”   The children ran to her feet and sat down.  After a pause to collect her thoughts, she began.

“Heed me now, for later you must tell the story yourselves.”

In these days the Gods have grown weary of mortals; they still send us wind and rain, love and death — for death is also a gift, bitter though it may be — but seldom do they speak to us, and more seldom still do they appear in their own flesh.

When the world was young, though, things were otherwise.  Then the Gods walked and swam and flew in the perfect bodies of which our own are but crude copies.   They drank and they ate and they healed and they slew  and they loved and they laughed.   Today I will tell you of the laughter of the Gods; a laughter more piercing than ours, for the Gods see through lies as we see through winter air.  

Long, long ago, the Gods sat upon their sacred hill, eating apples and looking down on the world they had made. The Lady of The Sharp Eyes and the Blind One spoke softly of what was and what might come to be. The Wolf-Sister tossed an amber ball between her hands until the Wind-Lord snatched it from her grasp. The Lady of Laughter sat with her brother’s head in her lap, combing out his red-gold hair and chiding him for his solemn face.  The Lord of Hope slept, weary from defeating the Winged Bull … but that is another story.   The Maiden said nothing, as was her wont, for she spoke little unless to the purpose.  

The Lord of Time, who had been listening to the crow that brought him news, sat up and flung it from his hand.  "I grow weary of idleness.“   His red-eyed lover rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to scold, but the Lord clapped his hand — the one that had held the crow — across his lover’s mouth.  "Let us have a rhyme-match.”

At that the Gods groaned as one.  The Lord of Time never lost a rhyme-match, not even to his sister the Lady of the Sharp Eyes.  Worse, his rhyme-matches could last for weeks, and sometimes longer.   Mortals who challenged the Lord of Time might spend their entire lives in the contest, or, living, return to the world and find that their great-grandchildren were ashes on the wind, and that none alive remembered their faces or their names.  

From his place in his sister’s lap, the Lord of Souls, he who makes and unmakes us all,  spoke up.  "I will wager a cask of unfermented cider that I can defeat you in combat, for my sword is whole and yours is broken.“

"Done!” cried the Lord of Time, for he loves cider above all things.  

The Lord of Souls sat up from his sister’s lap and stood, holding the sword that never dulls.   The Lord of Time also stood, the sword that changes naked in his hand.

And so they began to fight.  Back and forth the brothers flashed, faster than even the Sharp-Eyed Lady could follow.  Now and again they slowed, so that the other gods might behold their prowess.   The Deadly Ones were well matched, and they fought only in jest, for they knew that if they fought in truth, one or both of them must surely die.   The other Gods called out as the brothers fought; some offering praise, others mockery, and the Red-Eyed Lover denouncing the stupidity of a battle between kin.   The fight would have lasted long even as the gods count time, but the Lord of Souls stumbled on a hillock in the grass, and a blow that he should easily have parried passed within his guard and cut off his smallest finger.

The finger lay upon the hill, and the Gods gazed down on it.

“I can heal any creature but once, ” said the Maiden, “and you I have already healed.”

The Lord of Souls, the Deadly One, shrugged.  "What is a finger more or less?“  And he picked the finger up and made to cast it into the sky.

Seeing this, the Wolf-Sister twitched her ears.   "The stars are for heroes; you, cousin, lost this through carelessness.”   So saying, she picked up the finger and cast it into the sea.  There came a churning in the waves;  a rock sprang from the ocean, and grew and grew until it was a pillar four times the height of a man.  "Let this remind you of your folly.“   The pillar still stands; if you follow the coast north of  Cape Karkat, you will see the God’s Finger still, warning sailors of the leeward reefs.

The Lord of Time laughed, saying, "None now can doubt whose stone stands tallest.”  Then he swept his hand into the air, and his brother’s finger reappeared on his hand, as if it had never been severed.   The Wolf Lady was wroth, but then she laughed, for none could deny the Lord of Time when mirth was upon him and he spoke in shining words.

And so it happened, and so it ends, and so you must remember, and tell it again.

Finishing her story, Grandmother frowned at young Ulf.   “When the Lord of Time wounded the Lord of Souls, the Lord of Time could repair the hurt he had caused.  You, Ulf, are no Lord, and no Lord will heal your cousin if you are careless.   You must be wiser than the Deadly Brothers, and fight your kin with words, not weapons.  Save your swords  — and stones! — for the enemy.”

If I timed this right then it means that it is midnight  where @khemi is which means HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

I saw some one wearing something like this and I just, you can’t tell me that he wouldn’t wear something atrocious like this

(@janestrider I’m not gonna jump straight on this post but other religious symbols to consider:)

Dice become a way people read fortunes, and in the many combinations of their numbers twice-eightfold is all the knowledge of fate and luck humans might once have placed in cards and prophecies. There are arguments over the best shape and combinations, arguments over the correct way to roll, but all agree that if you peer into the numbers that fall you may find your lucky future… or lack of it.

Showing your own spilled blood openly becomes a sign of trust. People mark promises with a bloody fingerprint, and the candy red of those who bleed it is seen as a sign of good fortune to the Trolls- some of whom take it too far and will do terrible things to gain the right colour for their paints and their rituals.

Hammers become a sign of leadership. Ritually, new leaders of towns and cities are given a blacksmith’s hammer as a sign of their office, and some say that if the wind rises when the lift the hammer high, it is a sign their time in office will be blessed and respected. Should the wind die in that moment - that is a sign their time in office will be difficult, and they will be tested by the world.

Blessings are delivered in the form of rhyme by those who worship the Eight. It is said that the Gods favour such offerings, and it is considered a great skill among the clergy to be able to create sermons without preparation that don’t miss a beat or a couplet. This causes a curious trend of skilled poets being offered a place among the clergy, as their talent is considered a blessing from the Gods to show they are chosen to serve them; some agree, some do not, and those who reject the Eight insult them with rhyming curses, so that they might hear them all the better.

Spirals are incredible unlucky over all, especially those in nature. To see an unfinished circle or a whirl is considered a warning of misfortune; but to seek a naturally complete circle, by contrast, is lucky to some and a sign of the Mirthful Messiah’s absolution to the certain few.

There are many rituals in the Eight’s clergy about passing through doorways. A newly wed couple open a door together, and walk out into their new life; at funerals, the family close the doors behind the coffin as a final goodbye. Doorways are a sign of new beginnings and endings, and ritually have a glass handle that seems to glow when it catches the light of candles or the sun; no one recalls quite when they became so important, but folk memories speak of doorways being powerful things, and many blessings and prayers revolve around leaving offerings hanging on or just outside your door.

so khemi and I just came up with an AU (?) where when gavin gets aroused his nose grows bigger and whenever he’s around ryan his nose grows a little bigger, they notice, but no one catches on. so one day when geoff and gavin are dicking around, they look at some hot chicks because why not and gavin’s nose grows and geoff just clicks like “HOLY DICKS YOU’RE GAY FOR RYA N” and gavin just screeches and denies it but then everyone finds out apart from ryan so whenever ryan says something sexal to gavin, his nose grows and the room just bursts into laughter but ryan is always like ??????? and when it comes to RTX, they make sure gavin is next to ryan and fans comment on his nose being bigger and jack pays ryan to say something sexual to gavin and when he does gavin just /dies/ inside with his nose growing and jack films it and ryan eventually catches on and the first thing he does is walk up to gavin and kiss him on the nose because sopPY SHIT