#I'll use that tag i think

[gnomeicecream]

I am doing a fun little project where I am designing a theology of gods for an isekai story. I'm borrowing a bit from aristotlian elementalism, and tarot and wuxing shows up. Ok from the top, there is only 1 god. Easy. But they have six aspects; fire, water, earth, wood, and metal (hi wuxing), and 0. So these guys are my Major Arcana and Royal Suit players. I'm gonna fold that all up into them once I get my sub-project done. So for example, the guy who is going to end up my Water God will have the High Priestess and Queen of Cups iconography and domain over their stuff. But that's not all!

Now we get to the slog which is looking at all 14 times 4 cards of the minor arcana. For you see! Each of the 6 aspects of 1 have 6 aspects themselves. These guys are going to be gods of, have iconography of, ect ect, of the suit that corresponds to their upper management. That's 14 cards to split up amongst 6 guys, so roughly 2 per right? But not so fast! Each card means one thing when its upright, but it means a different thing when its reversed. So there are actually 28 cards per suit.

That brings us back to the beginning, and 0. This guy doesn't have sub aspects as their own category. Instead, they show up as influence in the other gods aspects. So Water has Feelings, Creativity, ect as gods, then one guy who is "Emotionlessness, Out of control emotions, blind inner sight" and all the things you get when the Cups reverse. But Reversed cards arn't evil, the educated amongst you say. This is true! And the Fool isn't an idiot. The god of blind inner sight isn't causing it, they are calling attention to a problem that needs to be fixed. So 1 has 6 aspects, and 0 has 6 aspects among them. Put them together and they equal out.

But I'm not gonna do a one to one straight transliteration of cards to gods, 1 and 2, 3 and 4. You'll recall wood and metal up there, who don't have a suit. Also, in wuxing, none of the elements really have the same associations aside from a few things. So everything is getting shuffled to where in the wuxing they would fit. Because I can't just copy paste anymore I have to understand each card, and then once I do, get a good grasp of each of the 5 agents, and then mix and match.

The purpose of this all wasn't to make a pantheon of the tarot, afterall, but to find inspiration for my deities and how they all interacted. All that. AAAAAaaaaall that. To say. I am now smack dab in the middle of learning about all the minor arcana from 5 different websites and each has a different take or emphasis. So I am making a document that summerises those takes into something I can consult when I move on to the next stage. And I wanted to share that summery because its been a lot of work.

And hey, maybe people will have suggestions of where to throw them once I begin wuxing-ing em!

[tagidearte]

My internship has started and I'm overloaded with doing historical illustration + writing a whole ass roman history of the region book for children, so... No time for finished stuff any time soon (except one I've already started and will probs post within the next few days). Take this quick messy shippy little concept.

If they ever got separate bodies, I know they would be touchy. Trying to get as close as they once were.

[yomeiu]

死にたがり  

[anbaisai]

Few things are more satisfying than wiping that smug expression off his face 😌

[stevebabey]

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

-

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

[ineed-to-sleep]

Some sketches I did to try to get a feel for what I want my Rook to look like 🤔

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

This one is for all my fellow "My gender is 'I have a job and I can't worry about that right now"'. I see you.

(part 1, part 2)

[daily-odile]

FINALLY FINALLY HAPPY (VERY LATE) BIRTHDAY ODILE!!!!!

[smoosie]

The 'We need to talk' scene

but I've made it into a wet cat short comic

(and it only gets worse for him...)

Bonus secret 5th panel :

(intrusive thoughts so strong they make his brain crash)

[heartorbit]

the star you've longed for

[crabsnpersimmons]

an update on the crazy idea i mentioned: i have started on the paper prototype

+chopsticks

+lazy susan

+little gremlin helper? (he's more of a distraction, he keeps giggling and creeping about and asking me what makes me so special?)

the tl;dr: i had the crazy idea of making a small model carousel to display my DCA pins on. and since i'm having a bit of an artblock, this will provide a good break for me.

also apologies for the delay on replying to asks! you're all so sweet and your messages always brighten my day. i will get to you as soon as i can! i'm just arting a little slower as of late :')

longer explanation under the cut

so i ordered the youtooz dca pins because i earn adult money now and this is what i choose to spend that adult money on. and i realized i'm probably not gonna wear them because i'd be too scared of losing them, but i also don't wanna just put them in a box or frame them (some are bobble-headed and some dangle! i gotta let them move yknow?)

then this crazy idea came to mind... what if i made a tiny model carousel to display the pins on? that way they're displayed safely, but they are free to move around and be played with and i can remove them if i ever DO feel comfortable wearing them out. and if i ever get more DCA pins or keychains (like fan merch yknow 😍) then i can always add another "tier" to the carousel and make it taller. or i can mix and match what goes on the carousel. i also already have a lazy susan (i bought a pack of them from amazon for my spices and sauces) so, i could just put the model on it to make it spin (so i don't even need to make the spinning base!)

so yeah, this is going to be occupying my time and brain for the next couple of days (i'm somewhat going through a bit of an artblock too, so this will help me take a little break)

[taruruchi]

Average conversation with Azul (cough cough azulchi)

Note: Don't tag this with another ship, whether oc or yume/selfship, please and ty 🙏

[skellagirl]

Gordon/Barney/Alyx is really really funny to me conceptually bc it's like, two hot geniuses in their 20s who look at the 40-something smartass who hangs around and go 'yeah that guy. we both want him carnally'

[seatokki]

some hualian + moomin thoughts

[wallabywhump]

Tommy’s ears feel like they have cotton stuffed in them.

“I-.” Tommy licks his lips, panic is crawling up his throat at what Evan just said, because it can’t be possible.  “Can you repeat that, babe?”

Evan grunts, and there’s hushed whispers and slamming doors, and maybe a slightly louder noise of Hen yelling in the distance, and Tommy knows the 118 firehouse well enough to know that Evan is hiding in the corner of the changing rooms.

“I said, Gerrard is captain of the 118.” Evan is speaking so quietly that the phone mic is barely picking him up, but Tommy hears him loud and clear.

His heart skips a beat at the confirmation.

“Fuck,” Tommy whispers. “But how?”

“Good question,” Evan hisses. “Bobby quit, and didn’t tell us, and that’s beside the point.”

Tommy nods, it is beside the point. Tommy should be comforting Evan right now, assuring him that they can talk to someone, that it’s okay, this isn’t permanent, and-

Yet, all his brain is repeating is, “were we affectionate at the ceremony?”

Tommy says it out loud without meaning, and he blinks because that isn’t at all what he meant to say, but his mouth is moving without his permission.

“I mean, I don’t know if Gerrard would have noticed if we were, I know I was very stiff, and yes, he knows I’m gay, but he doesn’t know you’re out and-,”

Evan isn’t speaking.

Tommy can’t shut up.

“-and that doesn’t even matter. He was reassigned for discriminatory actions against multiple members of the 118, two of which are still serving, so how is he even back? Who approved this?”

Tommy’s brain is kind of in overdrive, trying to think of how’s, why’s, and fix it, fix it, fix it.

“I reported him for multiple instances of homophobia and racism, and you’re my boyfriend, and he’s captain again, and-,” Tommy takes a deep breath, “shit, I shouldn’t be complaining about myself. You called to commiserate. Shoving all that back into a dark corner of my mind.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy,” Evan finally says, and it’s deadpan, dry, with maybe a slight hint of sarcasm to it. (Some part of Tommy blames the frequent date nights, and maybe Tommy is rubbing off on him, but also maybe there’s a layer to Evan that Tommy still hasn’t uncovered yet.)

Tommy hums, biting down on his lip to stop himself from spurting anymore nonsense.

“You ask all the exact same questions that Hen and Chimney just asked,” Evan says with a sigh, and then even quieter, and a little defeated. “You were right.”

“I was…right?”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Evan says.

Tommy takes a moment to curse past Tommy for being a cynic, despite being right, because he hates that defeated monotone from Evan’s mouth. It sounds wrong. And Tommy caused it.

Deadpan humour and realism may be how Tommy copes, but not even he could have predicted that a disgraced captain would be invited back into their previous role.

“No, no, I’m-,” Tommy groans, and covers the phone mic to say, “shut up, idiot,” to himself, and then uncover it again. He needs to be calm and collected and reassure his boyfriend right now.

There’s the tell-tale sound of alarms suddenly in Evan’s background and the moment has passed. A clang that Tommy knows means Evan just kicked the lockers.

“I gotta go,” Evan says, close to the mic, it sounds hollow.

Tommy nods, but then when he remembers that Evan can’t see that, you idiot, says, “yeah, I can hear.”

Tommy knows that Evan wants nothing less than to go on calls with Gerrard, but over a decade of dealing with the man comes to mind. “Don’t make yourself a target, keep out of trouble, and please, don’t be insubordinate. Just for today. Just until we know what’s happening.” And unspoken don’t mention me, don’t mention your sexuality, hide yourself, just for a day.

“Tommy,” Evan trails off, and there is an unimpressed air to his voice.

Tommy closes his eyes, grips his hands against his thighs. “Please, Evan,” he doesn’t want to beg, but he’s not above it, because he knows Vincent Gerrard inside and out.

Someone yells for Buck, the sirens get louder, and Tommy feels that panic spike again.

“You’ve got to go,” Tommy insists. “Just today,” he repeats.

Evan sighs, loud down the line. “Okay, okay, I-.” Evan curses. “Just today.”  

Relief blossoms in Tommy’s chest, right alongside a kernel of shame that might have found it’s way there during the ceremony and rooted itself regardless of how much Tommy hated it. He hates himself for asking it of Evan, but he doesn’t regret it.

“Thanks,” Tommy says.

Evan snorts. Another person yells for Buck.

“I really-,” Evan starts to say, and Tommy hears the siren and the hubbub of the station as Evan moves through it.

“Go,” Tommy rushes out. “Come over tonight. We can talk about it then, just, at my place. Please.”

“See you tonight,” Evan promises.

“Be safe,” Tommy whispers, hushed, scared that Gerrard might hear him even through Evan’s phone.

Maybe Evan has a similar fear because his reply is equally as quiet. “Of course.”

[mouseonvenus-main]

Dreamer (2024 ver.)

2021 Original below

Bonus: