Homestuck Is Old Enough To Start Playing Sburb Today...... Incredible

I see it’s been a little bit since your last posts. Just wondering if you are actively taking requests?

I am ALWAYS taking requests. Please, nothing makes me happier than seeing my inbox be flooded with multiple requests. I want to see it burst. I love opening up my little tumblr app and seeing all the ideas you guys have. PLEASE send me requests and asks and whatever other things pop into your precious little heads.

More snacks! Plus some drinks

Haha nice

Modern Fantasy Dwarf Headcanons #2

Dwarven young are extremely well protected. Most will not leave the mountains until they are the human equivalent of ten years of age. More so, dwarven young will not be allowed out of their homes until they are the human equivalent of five. This has caused the misconception of dwarven babies being carved from stone. 

Of course the parents often take it as a compliment! To dwarves comparing the child to rocks or stronger metals/gems is similar to saying their child is strong and will live a long life. Common things dwarven parents call their children are often Pebble, Stone, Precious Gem, Gold Nugget, Ore, and in some instances Coal Ember. This, of course, only makes the misconception of dwarves being carved from stone more popular. 

Common nick names given to children often have to do with the parent’s craft. It is not uncommon to hear the dwarf child being called Little Pickaxe or Little Forge depending on profession. Many times the parent chooses to only refer to the child by a nickname when outside of the mountain they live in. It is an old custom carried on into the present that is meant to protect the child by making sure a stranger cannot trick them into thinking they can be trusted. 

When it comes to human charges, however, the rules change. Often dwarven family will refer to the human as their middle name, a family name, or by descriptors. Though some will refer to them as metals/stones/precious gems and the like it is not as common as the former. It can be guessed with a surprising bit of accuracy that a dwarf who refers to their human(s) as metals, stones, or precious gems has known that human since their birth and has taken over most of that human’s raising since then. This also carries over to other species adopted by dwarves though humans are the most common. 

It is considered bad manners to refer to someone as their actual name when introducing them to strangers unless that stranger is in a higher position than both persons. If one does not know the rank of the stranger a safe bet to go with is the dwarf’s family name/clan name with a descriptor such as ‘Dark hair of the Irontooth Clan’. Children are not to be introduced to strangers until they are firmly in their teens. This has caused quite a bit of shock to dwarves being introduced to children of other races. The most children get as introduction to a stranger is ‘my child’ or ‘my (2nd/1st/3rd/etc..) eldest/youngest’. 

WARNING: Do not ask a dwarf child their name. Ever. 

Gay month is GO

Tagora Gorjek x Reader

He ran at a temperature best described as lukewarm, it was always the first thing you were reminded of when you spent time with him. He wasn’t the coldest of the trolls you knew of course. Granted, neither of you got to do so as much as you’d have liked. He was a busy troll and you had your own things to stress over. Your chats and gossip were usually reserved for facetime on whatever app or device happened to be handy. Tagora had a strict schedule and while yours was more hectic due to family matters he always made time to talk. But luckily for you both of you had found the time to hang out in person again. It was a breath of fresh air- even if the pampering made you squirm. You knew that Tagora liked having a ‘spa buddy’ but that didn’t mean you didn’t feel bad for him spending all that money on you. As much as he made up a big deal about your debt to him you also knew him well enough now to know he was full of shit. He was throwing prices out there and not keeping track of what you owed at all. That and he wouldn’t let you pay him back even when you did have the money. He liked spoiling you for some asinine reason though you were getting better at returning the favor. 

Like now. A bottle of iridescent teal tail polish and that Starbucks he liked so much sitting on the little bedside table and a couple of ridiculously fluffy bathrobes- it’d been a dent to your wallet but that was fine really- you were finally going to hang out together. You’d both planned this day weeks in advance and Tagora hadn’t shut up about all the new products he wanted to try with you. Some of it you’d looked up and nearly had a heart attack at the prices. You knew you shouldn’t have checked the prices on the products because it always led to you being anxious about using them but there were a few troll products humans couldn’t use without consequences and you liked to be careful. Luckily Tagora was almost as vigilant as you when it came to products. Which was why you were both reclined on the human bed he’d gotten just for the two of you, your skin was so silky smooth now it felt like you’d gotten rid of a years worth of grime. It also smelled nice- certainly not as strong as most human products were. Just a faint scent that you wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for the sheer amount of it you’d both used. Somewhere in Tagora’s hive you could hear Ferret dad scuttling around and the soft sound of Tagora breathing. The bed shifted and you opened an eye to watch him grab his Starbucks from the table and sit up slightly. He looked peaceful laying back with you and drinking that sugary monstrosity. The rigid way he usually help himself had melted away to loose shoulders and half lidded eyes. They were filling out more with teal lately- an indicator of an adult molt coming up. He’d mentioned it a couple of times asking you to check in on his lusus when the molt hit and make sure nothing in his fridge rotted. That bit of biology lesson had been enlightening as well as deeply disturbing. It also saddened you to think Ferret dad would be leaving to find a new charge soon. Reaching over you grabbed Tagora’s free hand and gave it a squeeze. His lips twitched around his straw as he squeezed back. This was your favorite part of your spa days, just relaxing together. Being able to reach out and hold hands when you wanted to. He gave you a gentle tug as he leaned back over to set his drink on the table. When he settled again there was that familiar sly grin- sharp teeth poking out from behind black lips- that told you he had some sort of juicy gossip to share with you. 

“You won’t believe what I overheard the other day.” He started, voice hushed with glee. Oh, you thought with your own smile, this was going to be good. 

do you have any headcanons about GHB, chahut or other purplebloods?

I have so, so many headcanons about so much. Please feel free to hit me up on those. Off the top of my head I have-

-Purple bloods are the most protective of their quadmates

-The Faygo Flavor Discussions are a guaranteed bloodbath they go to WAR over what they consider a superior flavor.

-All purple blood have chucklevoodoo but it varies from troll to troll with the Makara’s having the strongest and most terrifying which is why the others made GHB head of clown church.

-All purples can honk and enjoy it. The honks are unique to each purple. 

There are more. I love worldbuilding it is my jam. But they will not all fit in one post so if you want specific stuff feel free to slide in and request!

Lucky Shot

It was easy to forget the type of world you’d ended up crashing on. Despite the hardships you had endured you had managed to live a life- almost sheltered by Alternian standards. It was an odd thing to consider. You had broken your bones, spilt your blood, and fought like hell through the harsh Alternian nights- but you hadn’t truly faced someone hellbent on seeing you dead. Well, that wasn’t true, but the memories of that time were vague and fogged as if trying to recall your earliest memories. 

Feet sore, lungs aching, you darted as you had seen Karako and much younger trolls dart to escape your pursuers. You kept your gaze on the horizon, on the roots and the snapping plants, heart in throat you put one foot in front of the other and cursed your luck. Either they’d run you down or you’d reach help before then. Every bit of your old survivalist instincts were screaming at you to do everything you could to stay ahead of your attackers. To outlast and outwit them to the best of your abilities. Even as your body begged you for rest. Clearing a fallen log you stumbled on the landing and kept going. A graceless run of prey being pursued by hunter. You were lucky, the violet bloods didn’t have guns or long range weapons. If they wanted you they’d have to catch up first. 

Of course your good fortune couldn’t last forever, all it took was a loose rock in your path, with a breathless shock of icy terror your legs twisted out from under you as the rock was dislodged. The dirt, now loosened from how the rock had apparently been holding it in place, shifted and your terrified silence turned into a scream as the ground fully gave way. What you hadn’t had the time to register beyond the trees and brightly colored poisonous foliage was the sheer incline it all was rooted to. Behind you was the renewed energy of the violets, sensing the proverbial blood in the water as the landslide took you. Your hands shot out blindly, desperate to latch onto anything they could to slow your rapid descent. Stinging plants and harsh thorns tore at your fingers leaving a trail of blasphemous bright red in your wake. Agony shot through you as sharp rocks sliced into your exposed skin and you wheezed as you collided roughly with a tree. Clinging to the trunk of the thin sapling you prayed it wouldn’t dislodge as well. Breath ragged and painful you glanced around rapidly at your surroundings to try and get your bearings. It would hurt but you could still claw your way back up the incline- that is if the entire reason you were in this mess anyway wasn’t there laying in wait for you. As if on cue a finned head popped into view. Too far down the incline you couldn’t tell if you had been spotted or if he was still looking for you as you went perfectly still. The violet motioned to someone else above you and another head came into view. For a moment you thought you might be safe- and then a third head came into view. Your stomach clenched with renewed fear as the third violet blood pulled out their weapon. The harpoon spear glinted in the alternian moonlights and you could feel the prickly sting of your own tears building up. 

You were going to die. Permanently this time. 

With silent dread you watched as the troll above you raised his arm higher to aim. A glance below you, further down where you had almost fell, showed a similar fate. A harsh drop that would break more than just a few bones. If you let go of the tree you would tumble to a possible death, but if you stayed where you were you would be speared and fed to the horrorterror lurking underneath the waves. All choiced pointed towards your death- but only one of those choices would be on your own terms. Glancing back up at the faces peering down at you the choice was made. Taking a deep breath you let go of the tree just as the seadweller threw his harpoon. You slid faster and faster, tumbling over yourself as you went, something agonizingly sharp pierced your shoulder and you cried out. Head bouncing off a low branch you knew no more. 

Marvus was growing increasingly worried. Every dm he had sent you had gone unanswered for the past four hours. He’d chittr stalked you, checked your instagore, picked through your pesterchums, and even your grubtube. But none of them had given him anything to go off of. He had even gone so far as to dm Polypa to ask if the two of you had gone to a movie or something, but according to the olive blood she had spent the entire day with Tegiri. It was as if you had dropped from the face of alternia altogether. He scowled at his phone and ran a clawed hand through his hair. Today was supposed to be his day off, the two of you were going to hang out and if everything went alright he was going to ask you to spend the day. Maybe even make a move or two. Instead he was pacing his hive, nearly losing his mind with worry. It wasn’t like you to be this dormant- especially considering most of your friends kept track of you through your accounts. You hated to worry your friends for any reason. There was more to it than that but Marvus wasn’t your moirail and so he kept firmly out of it. Now, he was wishing he’d been more nosey. Sending another unread dm he cursed and threw on his signature jacket. Snatching his cane up from where it rested next to his front door he barged out into the late night. Most of the trolls he passed were heading home after a long night of work or partying to sleep away the scathing heat of the coming day. They leapt from his path as if burned as he marched down the sidewalk towards the woods you had last been seen in. His expression might have been relaxed but the orange-ish tinge to his eyes spoke volumes of his annoyance. Not quite rage, no- Marvus was rarely angry with you, but the maelstrom of emotions nagging at his thinkpan were so obnoxiously loud he could have screamed. His white knuckled grip on his cane as he flexed his fingers trying not to lash out at the trolls staring at him kept them from trying their luck with the celebrity. If he could have cast out his chucklevoodoos to turn the entire neighborhood into a mindless search party he would have. But if you were truly fine the display might frighten you and that was the last thing Marvus wanted. The search would take longer by himself but he reasoned it was for the best. You had most likely fallen asleep somewhere or made another friend who was monopolizing your time with them. It was a reasonable assumption. True danger always seemed to skip right over you. You always knew the choices to make to survive.

He found you at the bottom of a ravine. Your body unnervingly still with a golden harpoon sticking straight through your shoulder and pinning you firmly to the ground. He was careful as he slid down towards you. Not wanting to trip and possibly land on you. His bloodpumper was pounding in his ears as he grew closer, terrified that you had finally met your end. There was so much red, so much unnervingly bright mutant red. It slicked your clothes and muddied the ground for the entire world to see. If he’d been the painting type, the religious type, he’d say it was a sacrilegious masterpiece. Instead all he could focus on was the tremor in his hands as he checked your pulse. Whoever had done this… He caught his reflection in the polished gold of the harpoon, the bright scarlet of his eyes and the sneer pulled tight across his face. He’d kill them. He would fucking kill them for this. 

To your surprise you awoke. Sunlight struggling to burn through the blinds and purple curtains covering the windows of the room. A thick blanket had been tucked up around you making it difficult to do more than wiggle. Your shoulder and head a dull throbbing reminder of what had nearly come to be. The hulking shadow of a large troll caught your attention near your legs and you glanced down to find Marvus lifting the blanket to check the carefully done bandages on your legs. You must have made a sound at the sight of the violet blood still slicking his favorite jacket, nausea over what he must have done surging forward, causing him to look up at you. Those striking eyes were ringed in a deep scarlet, contrasting with the rich purple that was quickly marking his soon to be adult molt. He smiled, slow and predatory. 

“Don’ worry none lil mama, I took care of it. You jus catch some ‘z’s yeah?” His hand reached out and smoothed back the hair that had fallen into your face. “They ain’t gon hurt you. I promise.” 

As his hand continued to stroke your face you realized he wasn’t wearing any of his jewelry, the paint on his face had been smudged, and there was a predator’s satisfaction oozing from every bit of him. Something warm and soft nudged at your mind, reminded you of the sweet siren’s call of sleep. Your limbs growing heavy as your eyes drooped. 

“Marvus?” You croaked in confusion, he smiled at your scrunched brow and slight pout. 

“Lemme take care of you babe.”

“M’kay…” You yawned the fight and adrenaline leaving you as if siphoned away. He hated to use his chucklevoodoos on you but if it got you to rest then he didn’t see the harm. As you drifted back towards a dreamless slumber he pressed a kiss to your scalp and sighed. He’d have to call Polypa, it was her right as a moirail to know where you were and to help him finish the last motherfucker off. He glanced at the harpoon still crusted in your blood and its obnoxious violet insignia. Rage boiled under his skin, only abated by the fact you were there with him and recovering nicely. 

Howdy again! Please take your time getting to this as I know I’ve requested before but I just wanted to put this here before I forget lol

Would you be able to do a Marvus x ❤️Human Reader (She/her) where’s its a date to a human aquarium? ://3 it’s a favorite date idea of mine and I’d love to see your take on it! Feel free to make it as lovey and dovey as you want >:33

THANK UU BYEEE *runs*

I loved this prompt so much and I apologize for the shortness! And feel free to make as many requests as you please! The fic is up now and I got to make a little mermaid reference which was great lol

@qu1nntastrophy

How dare you reblog this and not share the fantrolls.

I demand the lore

hi idk if you like to hear other peoples headcanons so if you dont pls ignore but i want to talk to SOMEONE about my silly purpleblood headcanon

-

alright so; face paint. i dont particularly like the "every purpleblood is a clown" thing (but if you do then hell yeah go off love is real) as it kinda limits the character variety of that caste, but i DO like the face paint as a detail so ive settled with this: i headcanon that the face paint purples are prone to wear is not a Clown thing nor a Cult thing, but a cultural thing. all (or most) purplebloods wear a coat of face paint to symbolically conceal themselves. showing your bare face to someone youre not close/in a quadrant with is seen as a taboo in purpleblood cultures. additionally, letting a quadantmate/close friend see ones face is probably the biggest sign of trust a purple can do (depending on how they feel about the tradition). and having them HELP WASH IT OFF??? ough, now thats /tender/.

I need you to understand that I am ABSOLUTELY FERAL over this idea and it goes perfect with an older headcanon thing I did a while back

Here: https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/639719797773549568/hey-your-writing-was-awesome-ive-just?source=share

AND LISTEN- LISTEN-

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR SENDING ME YOUR OWN HEADCANONS I LOVE THAT SHIT.

God okay but like, the TENDERNESS??? Of washing off your big purples paint??? The damn SWEETNESS and TRUST of being allowed to help them apply it in the mornings???

NO ONE TOUCH ME IM NOT OKAY

EDIT: YES! Yes I love talking about other peoples headcanons! TALK TO ME ABOUT THE HEAD CANONS-