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#thread | helping hands

thewandererh · 14 days

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some old-ish @daszombes fanart from before spring break!!! was jamming to the razzmatazz IDKHBTFM album in school after watching a stream of his the evening before :]!! this is fanart of that steam haha. att might perhaps be das’ favorite il character but who knows

but!! first time drawing deeper still in a year(wow) and first time drawing att ever💔. but!! enjoy the sillies, i loved drawing them :]. had to look up deeper still on google during school so thats on my history now

ft. chonny jash💥💥

#iceland #iceland epic #daszombes #iterator logs #rainworld iterator logs #rainworld iterator #splashpaws!?!?!#tamkish?!?!?!?!??!!!#daszombes deeper still #iterator logs a taut thread #how do i draw deeper still’s cloak help #the hands here are really good #holes is a texas thing i confirm #das i made deeper still’s cloak into a long skirt dress #IF I WERE A TARDIGRADE IDE MOVE OUT FROM HOME #WHY LIVE IN THE SHRUBBERY WHEN YOU CAN HAVE A THRONE #das pls pat att va on the head for me #gay people….

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arsenicflame · 6 months

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i really liked my tags on this post so i wanted to touch them up and post them as a stand alone! i ended up adding quite a bit to this ''':)

What artistic skill does Izzy possess?

I think he has a lot of 'practical' artsy skills. he’s decent at sewing (mending your own clothes isn't just useful, it's almost a requirement at sea with limited possessions and resources) he's probably decent at braiding hair from having to splice rope- simply anything with roots in being useful I think he has done enough to be decent at by this point in his life.

Singing comes into this as well, holding a rhythm is important for certain sailing tasks, and while I think he can sing in ways that don't translate to shanties, I don't think he has utilised this in a long long time (so excited that we are apparently getting an Izzy singing scene in s2!!!! I need him to know he can have fun)

Another thing is I think he was a really good tattoo artist! I don't actually see him as having the creativity to come up with interesting and unique designs but I do think he is excellent at the act itself, and at copying requested designs. you need a swallow? an anchor? a ship? any common sailors tattoo? he can absolutely do it and it will probably be the best tattoo you have. it was always a mark of honour if you could convince him to do yours on the Queen Anne- he was very busy and didn't often do them, and definitely wouldn't do them if he didn't respect you. He's done a lot of Ed's 'quality' tattoos (though I think Ed also does a lot on himself), he's done tattoos for Fang, and Ivan, and he will do them for the rest of the kraken crew in the future. (he will even do one for Lucius one day, one of his own pieces of art as long as its not an Ed face or a dick. They understand each other now)

anything else? I don't know, I see him very much as, he won't let himself do things if they aren't practical. his canon whittling is as close as he gets and that's more of a 'thing to do with your hands while watching the deck' kind of thing. have knife will whittle

I think ultimately, Izzy doesn't let himself do things for himself. if you love something, if you have a soft spot, it can be targeted, taken away.

I do think he maybe dances though. He always plays it off as something Ed forces him to do when they're drunk/on shore but... he loves it- the motion; the reliance on another partner and the intimate understanding of exactly what they're gonna do next? I think he would love that actually.

I think dancing might be the one thing he always does for fun. He never lets himself have it, but if Ed demands a partner? Yes, of course, anything for his Captain.

(Ed always demands a partner. he likes dancing well enough but he likes seeing Izzy do it more- he knows Izzy will never do it on his own, he understands why, but Ed is Blackbeard. Nobody fucks with Blackbeard- and if he wants to dance? if he wants his first mate to dance? they're fucking dancing.)

but that's not the truth of the situation, really.

It always takes him a second to let his guard down, but he relaxes into it. He lets himself loose in a way Ed only sees when he's deep into the rhythm of a swordfight. And perhaps it's the same, to him- finding the flow of the battle, of the music. Feeling his partner, understanding them and being understood in return? It's all the same- but dancing is safe. Dancing is fun. In a swordfight there are stakes- and he loves the stakes, he loves that this thing that means everything to him matters, but sometimes, just sometimes, it really is nice to move like that in a way that doesn't matter.

And when they really get going- all twirls and jumps and frankly being a little ridiculous, Izzy laughs. A deep belly laugh, a kind of joy you didn't think was possible from him. But here he is, letting go at last. He laughs and he smiles and he feels such joy, the rest of the world melts away, and it is just him and his partner, dancing.

(later- much, much later, a man will play a battle song over their raids, a jaunty little tune that throws off everyone they fight against, and Izzy gets to dance, and fight, and feel free, unburdened by the weight that he's carried with him his whole life. They'll dance after too, and he will have finally found a place where he completely belongs)

(if you liked this, can I recommend Talking Bodies by ItsClydeBitches, i feel like that fic fits the themes of dancing incredibly well)

#I didnt want to clog up ops post but Izzy dancing is everything to me actually #I hadnt reread that fic in months but I did just now to make sure it was the one I was thinking of #and yeah I can definitely see its influence in this post #once again the autistic Izzy headcanons thread themselves through this post I cant help it its canon to me #I specifically think that the whittling could be a stim thing for him. hes had too many comments made about his hand movements #when he was younger and has learnt that 'doing something' is seen as far more acceptable. its repetitive and soothing and safe #also heres a fun little gift for my bellhands friends. I think Sam taught him how to dance. like proper dances.#and it was at the same time as he was learning to swordfight which is partly why theyre so similar for him #Ed and Jack came across them dancing in port; not long after they started talking to Izzy properly (hed known Sam a while by this point)#and like. Jack thinks its kinda funny but Ed? oh hes jealous. for the first time he Wants #Izzy and Sam are so close; and they have been for a while but this is Different. its one thing knowing that its Izzy&Sam and Ed&Jack #and its another thing to see them like this. its intimate and personal and for the first time Ed regrets not seeing izzy first #(this is heavily influenced by my personal pirate school headcanons jfgjfhnv)#makes a post to deal with out of hand tags; tags on that post get out of hand #nyxtalks #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #izzy hands #israel hands #edizzy #blackhands #frenchie ofmd #references to him; anyway. i felt it fit to keep him vaguely defined but it is obviously him. my favourite lil guy #this should probably have been broken up into a couple of posts but NO take this behemoth #if youre curious the post is like 844 words long and with the tags its 1220 ish. i am so sorry #references to vague time periods pre canon and post canon idk put them whenever you want. when edizzy was happy. when they will be again #I cut the bit about weaving because it was just a silly little thing and didnt slot into this but know Izzy with a loom is everything to me #im also sorry the tone is all over the place this is half 'i thinks' and half like. semi narrative things? idk idk i have no sense of order #this is as good as it gets for me

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pastafossa · 1 year

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Would you consider having TRT published for people to have a physical copy? I know you said you were thinking about publishing a version of it

I've looked into it! So far as I can tell, I cannot legally publish TRT as is to sell to you because of The Great And All-Seeing Mouse's copyright. I even looked into selling at cost - basically you paying me only the amount required to actually make it (aka: no profit for me), but that seems to be a very risky grey area. I know other fics have done it like Fallout Equestria but those companies are a little more friendly than The Noble And Standing Over My Shoulder Mouse who is aggressively protective of his copyright even when you're not making money.

What I can do:

I can publish what amounts to an AU of TRT in which all canon references have either been removed (Daredevil plotlines) or altered (Matt's appearance, name, and profession, though I'd keep his personality), and only my original elements (TRT-unique plotline) and characters (Jane, Ciro, Eli, Maya, Daniel, etc) remain. This is the generally accepted way to publish your fanfic, and if I self-publish (tentative plan), I can leave TRT up if I understand the legality correctly. My plan's also going to be to change enough of the original plotline that there are surprises for any TRT readers (as well as giving me additional distance between the fic and the AU so no one can argue I'm 'using' the fic to make money on my book). This is going to take a while, though, since there's a lot to change between pronouns, the plot, the characters, and themes.

I can allow you to create your own physical copy. There are book printers who create individual books for people, and since you would be paying and I wouldn't be making any money, this would be legal! This is likely the easiest way to get a hard copy of the original TRT!

You can also bookbind it yourself without having to go to a book printer at all! There are some excellent guides to bookbinding online, and I've had multiple requests from readers who wanted to bookbind a copy for their own shelf, which I'm totally ok with! Again, as long as it's not being sold you have my permission to do this!

Sadly as far as I know, those are the only three ways you can get a TRT-Original or TRT-AU as a hard copy. Honestly if I had the money, I'd just order a bunch of hard copies and give them away to readers for free. When TRT is eventually done, I do plan to have a hard copy printed for myself (or maybe bookbound, not sure) and have tentative plans to buy a few extra to give away as a raffle thing. But unfortunately, I can't afford to do that on a wider scale.

#the red thread #those are my tentative plans and those are also the ways you can get a hard copy!#trust me i would LOVE if I could just turn them into hardcopies and sell #even if I just asked for the cost of printing #but while some companies seem willing to ignore that #disney is *notorious* for going after people even if they're only breaking even #so eventually there'll be a heavily AU version available to buy #and you are free to have a book printer print it *for you personally* or you can bookbind!#those are your options basically #i wish i could be more help but unfortunately because it's fanfic my hands are kinda tied by copyright

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descended-from-fairytales · 2 years

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(Violet/Daniel): Helping Hand

@fxirytxlcfxtc

‘Here’s the address. Meet me in an hour. Your key’s under the door mat.’

Violet looks down at the phone with a soft sigh. This is a bad idea. She has no idea if he’ll even come. The apartment is far enough away from the city that no one should ask questions, but it’s still risky. If they’re seen together it could blow their covers.

She looks around the room once more, making sure everything is perfect. Tidying. It’s a compulsory habit born from the need to make sure everything goes exactly as planned. She’s rearranging the pillows on the bed for the fourth time when she hears the door open.

#lemons #*nsfw #thread: helping hand

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nightmaretist · 9 months

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PARTIES: Mateo @fearhims3lf & Inge @nightmaretist LOCATION: Mateo's home. TIMING: Right after Bitter Dreams CONTENT WARNINGS: Ends with a fade to black, so NSFW allusons and innuendos. SUMMARY: After her altercation with Rhett, Inge flees to the astral from where she sees Mateo, a mare she's met once before. After patching her up, the two get to talking and soon enough get very into the interaction.

The astral plane was something that for now felt safe. Inge could remain here for a while, tucked away in a corner where no hunter could reach her. She refused to think of herself as scared, but she was shaken, somewhat reeling and feeling most of all, very alive despite her undead status. But Inge knew that once the sun would start to rise she’d have to land somewhere back on earth.

She had tended to her own wounds before. Bitten down on a leather belt and pulled thread through her own skin to keep the glitter from pouring. Wrapped bandage around her arm, pasted bandaids and instant sutures on her head. It could be a solitary existence at the end of the day, with no clan to fall back on or pack to call her own. Inge didn’t mind it, most of the time.

And yet she was looking for an opportunity. Staring at the earthly plane before returning to it, peering into people’s personal space but not paying much mind. Until her eyes fell on a familiar face – with even more familiar tattoos on his arms – instead. It didn’t take long for Inge to decide to appear in his living room, clutching her wounded arm as glitter started pushing past her fingers now that gravity was working on her once more. “Mateo Lara. As I live and breathe.” Not that either of them was technically alive or had to breathe to remain that way. “I could use some help.”

Music bumped against the confines of Mateo’s headset, Public Enemy using lyrics in the neverending war of capitalism and oppression. The mare nodded his along to the beat, mumbling the lyrics to himself as he finagled with the action and pickups of his guitar. It was going to play even better if he could help it. Years of use had worn it down, but Mateo wasn’t one to give up on such a beautiful piece. His stratocaster would live as long as he did, and that was a promise.

“All right, pretty lady.” Mateo wiped away the remnants of the wood he sanded off of the neck. “Oh yeah, this is perfect,” He looked down the neck from the head and approved of the action, placing it down in time for a familiar face suddenly appeared in his living room. “Yo, what the fu—” He blinked, shaking the confusion away as best he could.

“Inge? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Yeah, you could use some help, what the fuck happened?” Mateo rushed to the woman and helped her to his couch. The glitter would be a bitch to get out, but that didn’t really matter at the moment. Inge was hurt. “Tell me what happened.” He grabbed his first-aid kit from under his coffee table, laying out what he’d need. “Hunter or another kinda monster?”

It was such bullshit, that they bled despite not having blood, that this stuff could still seep from them. It wouldn’t kill her, she knew that much, and perhaps because of that she wasn’t particularly stressed or panicked. Still, it was a nuisance, the placement of the wound not helping. Inge was well aware that if the cut had continued the way it had, it would’ve hit her neck. That that would have been an ever bigger problem.

And still, Mateo’s response seemed a little much to her. It had been an issue, these past years, for her to feel the urgency when it came to her own safety until it was pressing. Now, with her facing another mare and the hunter back to sleep, the panic was subsiding and Inge stood there, taking in the experience of someone getting ready to care for her so very quickly. A strange feeling.

“Hunter,” she said, letting herself be sat on the couch. She couldn’t help the wince that washed over her face at the impact, nor could she stop herself from lifting her fingers and inspecting the glitter on them before pushing it back to her limb. “Was in his dreams, he woke up too early. Fought through his paralysis, the fucking brute! And had a knife at the ready, of course. I was able to get him sleepy again, though, and got out, but shit. Don’t go snacking on the man in the funghi-van.”

“Fucking puto.” Mateo grumbled, assessing Inge’s wound carefully before pushing the woman’s hand away and compressing the wound with a cloth. The glitter was really never going to come out of the couch. “So wait,” Mateo pulled the rag away and reached for a few bandages. “He fought through the paralysis? Shit. Never seen that before.” And to be fair, Mateo had only been a mare for five years. That seemed nothing in comparison to Inge’s time.

"Noted.” The bandages pulled Inge’s skin together to close the wound, “No funghi-van.” With the cut shut, Mateo wiped away the remnants of the blood. “This is gonna sound weird, but I’m gonna need you to take off your shirt.” He brandished the gauze he was going to use. “Gotta be able to wrap this under your armpit so it’s actually secure. I’m all out of regular patches and med tape. Used them after my own mending, and haven’t restocked.”

Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, Mateo looked toward his bedroom, thinking of an alternative plan. “Or if you can manage it, I can wait for you to be done in my bedroom. You know, privacy.”

“Puto is right.” The words were hissed from between her teeth as Mateo added pressure to her wound. Pain was such an ugly thing when it was as simple and boring as this. A flesh wound made by a brute of a man. God! Nothing about this would fuel her art or her pit of inspiration: it only lived to serve her with another scar, another frustrating memory of failure. “Yeah, just broke right through after waking. Grabbed me so I couldn’t get out the second he woke, so he must’ve known what he was doing.”

There was another wince, another bristle of pain as he took care of her, but once the wrapping was done Inge gave him a look of appreciation. “Thanks.” She raised her eyebrows, not finding the request that out of left field. Prudism was something from a past life, when she’d been a good Christian housewife who feared God and promiscuity. She pulled off her shirt, not minding that she was sitting in only a bra. “Do your thing, ‘Teo.” There was no motive here, no cheeky grin but no shame either. Honestly, the most embarrassing thing was that she needed help at all and that it was so surprising that someone was willing to give it without question or argument.

Her muscles relaxed, and she gave him a quizzical look, as if to ask how he wanted her arm to be positioned. “You’re here, by the way? That’s some kismet, isn’t it? Of all the places our paths can cross it’s here. In Maine.”

“Hmph…” Mateo chuckled, shaking his head at the way Inge used Spanish. It was cute, the way she spoke, but the wince at the end made him mirror her expression. He hardly knew Inge, but he wasn’t exactly thrilled to see anyone hurt, especially his kind. That was the other side of the coin for people like them. Monsters always had slayers waiting to gut them, and that reality hit Mateo like a truck when he encountered his first hunter.

Most days, he was untouchable, but those made to slaughter the undead almost made his confidence waver. But Mateo would never make that known. “Okay, chica. As long as you’re comfortable,” He smiled softly, moving Inge’s bra straps and arms where he needed to finish wrapping up her wound. The gauze crossed over itself, ensuring it wouldn’t move out of place.

“Y ya. Should hold for a while.” Mateo winked, putting the straps back into place. He scooted back to sit on the coffee table and nodded, his smile growing larger. “I guess you can say it’s kismet, yeah. Only been in town a few months, but honestly I’m kinda loving it. Meeting you is kind of a bonus though.” And it had been. The whole town was a bonus. “Where abouts do you live? ‘Cause right now you’re downtown. Could drive you home unless you wanted to spend the night.”

This was how it ought to be, Ingeborg thought. And yet she didn’t quite make it like this. While crossing paths with other mares, she never really stuck around with them. If they happened to be in the same earthly place, she’d enjoy their company and have their back but once it became time for her to get her bags and get going again (and it always became to do as much), she lost contact. But this, having someone who was built like her to look after her … it was nice, even if Inge didn’t like the general feeling of requiring this kind of care.

“Comfortable isn’t a great descriptor for my state but none of my discomfort is because of you, if that’s what you mean,” she said, gritting her teeth a little more as he moved the gauze. This was only one of the first issues she’d ran into in Wicked’s Rest, but it still felt like she had rotten luck. Was it such a large ask to be left in peace as she haunted people’s nights and made her art? She liked it here. Inge didn’t want to start running because of fucking hunters just yet.

“Gracias,” she said, moving to pull her shirt over her bra once more and getting a little more comfortable where she was sitting. Inge pushed some of her not-blood onto the floor. “Shit, a few months? And we only see each other now, that’s our luck. I’ve been here about two years now. It’s good to see you. The more of us the merrier.” As long as he didn’t start getting in on her territory. There were a few regulars she wanted to keep for herself. “I’m in Deersprings. If you’d have me, I’d love to stay a while. Would be good to catch up, no?”

Spanish always brought a sense of comfort to Mateo, even if the speaker wasn’t from his culture. He’d be more likely to make fun of a no sabo kid than he was a person who was actually trying. A person who was being sincere. He didn’t know Inge well, but Mateo liked to think he knew how to read people. And the chapter he was reading? It spoke of sincerity and a warmth she hid behind a mask. What it was made of, Mateo had yet to discover, but his curious nature was determined to find out.

“I generally keep to myself,” He wiped his hands on his shirt, groaning as he realized there was now glitter all over him. “Ah, fuck. One sec, ma.” Rising from the coffee table, Mateo removed his shirt as he walked away, disappearing into the bedroom. Upon his return, he sported a new top and sat down next to Inge on the couch. “Okay, that’s better.”

He smiled, “You can definitely stay a while. I’m all fed so I won’t be leaving anytime soon either. Lots of time for us to catch up and get to know each other.” Eyeing his guitar, Mateo adjusted its position, ensuring the action wouldn’t be warped from how it leaned into the loveseat. “So besides me, are there any other good-looking and tasty individuals you’ve managed to jumped into?”

Mare blood was something interesting in and of itself, but over the years Inge had grown somewhat embittered by the sight of it. It was better than bleeding mortal blood, she supposed, which was thick and warm and so very precious. Still, she didn’t tend to bleed unless at the hands of hunters and that always made her feel the way she did. As if she was teetering on an edge, so close to falling towards a crashing stop and being faced with all that lingered beneath. Uncertain and erratic.

Maybe that was why she had made art with it, once. Abramoviç eat your fucking heart out. She waited for Mateo to return while wiping more glitter off the couch, collecting bits of her spirit between her fingertips before dropping it. “Much better.” It would have been cool if he’d been covered in mortal blood. “And eh, pity. All that time you’ve got and you spent it by yourself?” How drab. Inge filled her days with people and noise. Solitude was a recipe for disaster.

Her elbow was plopped on the couch leaning, her chin propped on her hand. “Who’ve you been feeding on? Any regulars, or something new every night?” Maybe it was a little early to suggest going haunting together, but Inge filed away the idea for later. She did miss it. “There are some interesting people in town, sure. This place seems more bustling than some of the cities I’ve seen. But I’m here tonight, with you. So, tell me what brings you here?”

“Don’t like too many people.” The whole reason for getting away from his family was to protect them. Mateo had already made the mistake of getting close to Leticia, he couldn’t afford to continue making that same one. At least Inge was his own kind, more than capable of taking care of herself. But even that was dangerous. Connections always were. “I got everything I need in here anyway. Music, tv, comfy places to lay down…I’ve got it made.” He smiled wanly, leaning back into his seat.

Mateo chuckled lightly at Inge’s question, scrubbing his stubble as he pondered on what his answer might be. Mare’s could get territorial, though Mateo never understood why. Then again, he traveled all across the world to feed. He didn’t need to worry about something as trivial as territories.

“I’ve found this idiot online that I like to harass. He talks about cheese a lot and lied on main about having a big dick. It was funny as shit.” Mateo shrugged with a grin, “But other than that, I just bounce around. Always have. Well…” He danced his head side to side, thinking, “I was turned five years ago. So always have, since then.” Drumming his fingers on the armrest, Mateo smiled at Inge’s personality. She had a bite to her that he enjoyed. She must be an older mare, he thought. “I like the new scenery. Needed it .” He jutted his chin toward Inge, “What about you?”

She couldn’t imagine it, resorting to solitude by choice. Sure, Inge’s life was at the end of the day a lonely one, with the way she flicked in and out of the lives of people with never any intention to stay, but it was still filled with people. Lovers and friends, foes and annoyances, subjects and interests. Especially fellow immortals were types she sought after. “Then I’m honored to be invited here.” She smirked along with the statement, but wondered if Mateo ever got cabin fever. She would.

Her eyebrows rose, amusement washing over her face. “Sounds like he deserves it. Do you give him cheese or dick themed nightmares? Or both?” Or perhaps something very different. God, she missed talking to fellow mares. She wanted to know how he made the dreams as horrifying as possible, to get the greatest meal. Wanted to brag about her own methods, too.

“So young,” she mused, trying to recall where she had been when she’d only been five years undead. “I get it, though. I tend to hop around too.” Hunters tended to find her, with her heedless ways. And Inge was afraid to grow too accustomed to a place, anyway. “I’ve been a mare since the late seventies. Not too long, but you know, a significant time.” Longer than she had ever been alive, anyway. “I tend to stick to larger cities, though. Provincial life can be a little boring. But this place is proving to be anything but, hm?”

Solitude came all too easy. There was no one around to impress, no one to barrate you for not doing this or choosing to do that. No one to hurt and hurt you in return. Mateo huffed, blinking away what his mind attempted to conjure up, make his skin crawl with the familiar pinpricks of sudden emotion. He was above that, he thought. Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward in his seat and smiled at Inge, recalling the nightmares he’d given Beau.

“I give him both, but there’s something about names I don’t quite get. He’s obsessed with them.” Mateo chuckled, the sensation of his meal ghosting his entire body. It had been quite delicious to make the man forget his own name. “I turn him into a Ken doll and then make it to where he can’t remember his name. He freaks the fuck out. The simplest nightmares, but he screams. Not much to lose, so I guess he really doesn’t wanna let anything happen to them.”

With a shrug, Mateo rose from his seat and strode over to his minibar, grabbing two glasses and his decanter full of whiskey, taking it back and sitting next to Inge. It felt strange to be doing so again, especially since he had a strict rule to not invite people over, but now this was his third time having someone visit. One more night wouldn’t hurt, but Mateo knew he had to fix that before it became a habit. “Yeah, pretty young compared to you, but I’ve been known to prefer older women.” He smiled, pouring a glass for each of the mares. “This place ain’t normal, no, but it’s got lots of benefits.” Sipping his drink, Mateo’s gaze looked Inge up and down. “Think I’m gonna stick around for a while.”

Her lips spread. Inge enjoyed hearing other mares speak of their methods, and it seemed Mateo had found himself a rather particular sleeper whose dreams to haunt. “He must be really fond of his name, then? That’s so strange, but as long as it’s incredibly effective I suppose you ought to keep going for it. Maybe you can figure out what this obsession of his is. Worsen it, if that’s how you operate. Feel free to let me know where he lives so I can leave him alone. Same goes for some of my own regulars.”

She did tend to get a little territorial, after all. Her sleepers were projects, much akin to her sculptures: they required devotion and time, creativity and constant hard work. For someone like Mateo to swoop in and ruin her work would be disastrous. Inge watched him prepare their drinks, let out a laugh at his comment. “Careful. I look younger than you.” She took her glass, took a sip and enjoyed the feeling of the liquor traveling down. “Hm, I suppose you’re right, though. It seems this place has some things worth sticking around for.”

At least for one more semester, was her plan. Maybe she’d abandon ship after. Inge swung her foot up and down from the side of the couch, leaning her side against the back of it while observing him a little more. Fine features. Another artist might have considered painting him, but she didn’t tend to look for beauty. “So you make music? Or just enjoy it?”

“‘Course ma. I’ll text you the address so you can reference it later. Send me yours too. Not always fun to have someone dipping into your kitchen when you’re trying to cook.” Mateo winked, taking a long sip of his whiskey before plopping his feet onto his coffee table. With Inge patched up and a drink in his hand, it finally felt like he could fully relax. Especially when the liquor made him feel so warm inside. Inge’s interest, however, made it spread to Mateo’s entire face.

Thank god he couldn’t blush.

“I make…” He trailed off, considering how much he’d reveal. “In a way. I make the guitars.” And actual music, but Inge didn’t need to know that. “Normally that info’s just for me, but you dropped in before I could put away my shit.” A dry chuckle escaped Mateo and he clicked his tongue, a little annoyed. “I don’t know. I’m just weird about it. It’s mine. Don’t like showing anyone.” The rest of the contents in Mateo’s glass were drained with another tip to his mouth, and he lightly placed his glass back down to pour another. “Been making them since I was about twenty, so uh…” Mateo tapped his chin, “Twenty years I’ve been doing it—give or take.”

“Will do. And if you’re ever down to scare the bejeezus out of a couple, let me know. We can give them identical nightmares. Really make them wonder if there’s something wrong in the old noggin.” She wondered what kind of mare he was. The self-flagellating type which stayed alive because of some strange instinct, despite the guilt eating them alive. She hoped he wasn’t, that he was the type who had embraced their nature and had fun with it. Inge tried to gauge him, felt like he might be the latter.

Her face brightened as he spoke of the work he did, eyes trailing around the room for a moment before landing back on him. “That’s amazing,” Inge said, taking another sip from her drink as if to punctuate and underline the statement. “I don’t normally tend to come in unannounced like this, you know, this was just … emergency. But hey, no need to hide it, hm? It’s cool stuff you’re doing. I appreciate anyone who can work well with their hands.” Innuendo intended. “I won’t tell, though, if that’s what you’d prefer.” She smirked at him. “I make sculptures myself. Different, but not entirely. Right?”

“I’m not one for dates, but hell, that sounds like the best one I could ever go on.” Mateo laughed, signaling that he was truly only kidding. The last thing he needed was for someone to get attached, and he felt lucky that Inge was not the type to. Just like Mateo, she seemed to hold people at a distance, the way he preferred it.

“I figured you didn’t. You like your space, and I don’t take you for the hypocrite type.” He smiled a little easier then, any signs of annoyance dissipating with the flair of flirtation coming off of Inge’s tongue. “Well, I do like working with my hands, and I mean, I could show you if you don’t tell.” With a shrug, Mateo scooted closer to Inge, hands sliding atop her knee lightly, giving her the option to reject or advance as she pleased. “So you’re saying you work well with your hands too? You might just be the perfect woman, ma.”

Her lips spread into a wide smile. Inge didn’t mind dates too much, even if it never led to her investing too deeply — and the times that she had given her heart to people it had ended disastrously. At least she had her coping mechanisms to deal with heartbreak. At the moment she thought herself above such pain, though. “Well, we’ll have to do it then. It’ll be a double date, just with the other couple asleep.”

Nodding her head in agreement, she was glad the other seemed to understand where she was coming from. (Though, of course, Inge often intruded into other space with little consideration — but that wasn’t something she admitted to.) The smirk on her lips remained, teeth digging in her lip before licking the bite off. “It could be our little secret,” she said, taking his hand and moving it up further before inching closer. “We could show off our respective skills and never tell a soul.” Her own fingers trailed towards him now, pushing underneath his chin to angle his face. “Hm, what d’you say?”

#wrspice #helpful hands.#mateo.#threads.

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cryptcatz · 2 years

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i hate that when i ask for help with things (often technology related) i get mocked. for not understanding the “obvious”. “but it’s literally so easy!” they say, as if that will suddenly make it easy to my brain. this is often from people on help forums etc., often people literally offering help to troubleshoot things. just because im “slow” and have difficulty learning things that means i don’t deserve just the smallest amount of patience?

i know it’s amusing when people ask “obvious” or “dumb” questions, but please consider biting your tongue and actually kindly answering them instead of making fun of them or getting angry.

#autism + learning disabilities means my brain is just…formatted funky and i need extra help sometimes. is that so bad?#btw i know that people aren’t obligated to hold my hand and walk me through things but you’d think on like help forums etc they’d be #a little friendlier and more open to walking you through stuff. idk #learning disability #learning disabled #autism #actuallyautistic #learning difficulties #autistic #personal #tbh out of all the options i’ve found asking for help on tumblr the friendliest #Reddit the meanest lol again literally on threads/subreddits intended for ppl to ask for help…

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phoenixcatch7 · 2 years

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Been reading svsss fanfic and fan content for nearly two years now and I gotta say I am appalled by the lack of diety bros!sqq and sqh.

Like, we don't have nearly enough creator deity sqh anyway (the feral ones are e x q u i s i t e) but I haven't seen any where sqq is on the same level!

Consider: at one point in the past sy, in full hater inglory, starting (accidentally or otherwise) a full scale fan war over pidw. Trolls rampaging through comment sections, toxic ship wars spilling into social media sites and trending for days, streams of hate mail, attempts at doxxing poor sqh even. It culminates in the crashing of the entire site he posts on, obliterating the chapter he was working on and the site admins banning his work.

For the days it takes for him to get it put back up with his account unsuspended sqh suffers, and he almost successfully gets peerless cucumbers account terminated for starting it until he realises that pc jumped right back to paying for chapters and extra content like he was doing even in the final days of the war. Like he never did anything. Yeah, like he'll be forgetting that username any time soon.

Skip to the final chapter, and the fan war has calmed down, and actually benefitted sqh in the long run by giving pidw such a huge cultural platform. He posts, sy responds with the most scathing vitriol he's ever commented (having successfully pressed send before his body gave out) with allusions to another fan war surely brewing, and sqh jumps from his chair in fury and terror - he's on complete burnout, he hasn't got anything left to give, he can't afford to go through that again -

Trips, spills, the ramen gets everywhere. Killed by his own sparking computer, he dies before he sees the files corrupt, the entirety of pidw corroding away into terabytes of faulty static.

They both die within minutes of each other, sqh, the creator of pidw -

And sqq, who destroyed it.

#I just think that'd be incredible to read #I love healthy cuplane but sometimes I just think they aren't vicious enough #The parallels in the book are already close enough #It'd just take a couple small adjustments and BAM #barely an au but so feral #Yin yang connection where sy is the great evil with a genuinely kind personality hidden away #And sqh the great creator who scurries around helping people out who might stone his favourite oc to death with his bare hands #Sqh holds the most sincere hatred for pc for the longest time and vice versa but then they meet in pidw #And it's been long enough that a screaming match venting it all cleanses most of the active loathing #I'd like to think they end up getting along and feeding each others diety complexes when they discover #Their influences in regard to the world remain #Also I am in desperate need of a Ultimate Regress Forms where sqh is all lines of code and sqq is made of error messages and glitching stat #No one in svsss would have any idea what they were looking at #It'd be so delicious #If you want to go extra angsty: yqy seeing and realising sj has been taken away but being helpless against what replaced him #Lbh having weird dreams hearing them talking together like the Minecraft people end scene #Mbj would of course both find it hot and have a full crisis of hierarchy if he found out #Sqh: glowing from behind eyes blank text streaming behind him I WEAVE THE THREADS OF REALITY TO MY WHIM #Sqq: movements lagging behind sound of static face glitching horribly SUCKS FOR YOU I HAVE A BIG PAIR OF SCISSORS THEN #svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #shen yuan #cumplane #shang qinghua #moshang #bingqiu #shen qingqiu

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molochka-koshka · 3 months

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Realizing that even though I weave/sew/work with leather every day that I will never be able to pass this knowledge on to anyone else because I've been doing it for so long that it's very much just an automatic thing for me and I dont really get how someone can look at a loom and not immediately see how it works. I'm not saying this in a "people are so stupid" way I'm saying this in a "I am a bad teacher" way.

#on one hand I'm sure I can explain it all #on the other it would be so frustrating #like i dont even like watching people who weave things in a way that I dont like #like not weaving in the ends of the weft while they go or not keeping consistent selvedges or not beating hard enough #and with sewing its worse #if i have to watch someone struggle to thread a needle when a needle threader came with their sewing kit i just feel like crying #I'm not a hater i swear im just not a very helpful person

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ferinehuntress · 3 months

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◈　 ⇢ @piranhasbreath　 ⋯　 umprompted Ask . 　　　❝ "I swear it's like you are not even trying to take care of yourself." Came the voice, followed by a loud tud of a body being dropped on the floor. This assassin was still alive, her foot keeping him still with strengh alone as a thick white tail pressed against his face to prevent him from screaming. Not that he would, anyway, hipnotised as he was. "Or did you know I was in the area and wanted to leave me a gift?" Ahri smiled sweetly at Mel. @piranhasbreath with Ahri :3 ❞

　⊰ ⸻ ⊱　Mel sat at the table, paperwork neatly piled up on the marble stone as she slowly lifted her eyes to look toward the familiar voice. "Oh, I have plenty of ways to take care of myself," Mel smiled, as a pair of yawns echoed along the hall. Deimos and Phobos, two large female panthers lay on either side of the desk, as they stood up to smell the blood and fear of the man laying on the ground. "You must accept that with position and status, comes assassins and blackmail at every corner. This is just a regular Tuesday for me, Nina," She smiled as she pushed back the chair and stood up. Her hands rested against the marble and looked down at the man.

"I do hope you didn't get blood on my floor, it might stain," She teased Ahri as she dragged her finger along the marble table, her claw lightly tapping against it, and leaned up against the side. The two panthers bristled their fur, waiting for the command to attack, and then shrugged.

"Who's to say, I thought you needed to stretch your tail a little bit. As it is, I would like to see if we can get a bit of information out of him before you decide to feast," Mel asked as her hand lifted to her hip and waved it toward the assailant. "Did he say anything to you? Perhaps a house or a name of who he works for?"

#piranhasbreath #[ panda speaks ] — tracker .#thread: one hand helps another

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