#liquid banjo

[dailyachewood]

even noisy, alcoholic waters can run deep May 30. 2002

[eggiesins]

Sandrock Bachelors Being Drunk

Mild NSFW so Minors DNI

My first head canon post, enjoy!

Arvio

Arvio already has no idea what inhibition is so expect his personality to intensify by 200% while his ability to actually come up with schemes drops by 200%.  He’s gonna have so many half-baked terrible ideas that he will immediately try to act upon, so be ready to keep him on a kid leash to avoid some really dumb incidents.  “Builder!  I just had the best idea for how to get more investors for By the Stairs, but we have to act fast!  I’m hopping on the next train to Atara right n- what do you mean it can wait til morning??”  Arvio already slurs his words, so drunk Arvio I could see being almost unintelligible.  Once he’s drunk enough, he’ll constantly flip back and forth between beaming over how much he loves the builder and sobbing over Fang’s most recent rejection.

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE rizz

Amirah helps at first, but clocks out of babysitting after the first hour of shenanigans.  Good luck Builder.  He’s your responsibility now.

Burgess

Sweet, sweet summer child Burgess.  He’s not much of a drinker, but would easily be peer pressured into drinking games, especially if the Builder wants him to play.  Others offer to drink for him if he wants, but Burgess insists that, as the Chief Water Inspector, his high hydration levels and position of bureaucratic authority give him a high enough tolerance to make it through the whole game.  They do not.  Sweet baby boy’s never been drunk before and has no idea how to handle it, so be ready to babysit this one too.  He’s gonna cry over how beautiful the cactus flowers are in full bloom, how Banjo jumped in his lap and started purring, and how you’re an angel from the Light sent to save Sandrock.  Keeping him hydrated is easy, but if he does throw up, he’ll never forgive himself for the wasted water.

He’s very good at listening to the Builder’s instructions and advice on sobering up, though.  Of all the drunks on this list, he’s the easiest to comfort and get to bed by far.

Drunk Burgess is a “sinner” (by his perspective) & 100% gives Pen the “you’re a bully but I forgive you” speech instead of turning the other cheek or forgiving immediately.

Ernest

It’s been a while for him.  Did he drink and party with Luna back in Atara?  100%, but since arriving at Sandrock, he’s been so busy with hyper fixating on Logan and trying to survive droughts and sandstorms, there hasn’t been much of an opportunity for him to just let loose and party.  Once he finally does, though?  Mans is writing sonnets on sonnets on sonnets.  None of them rhyme, or even make sense, but he gives them his all anyway.  “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”  “Ernest, you said that one already.”  “Did I?  I guess every time I see you, I seem to just forget everything else.”

Ernest is pretty open about flirting with the Builder normally, so when he’s drunk, expect to hear it way way more.  He’s gonna rizz up that Builder as well as his drunk brain can ‘cause he absolutely LOVES seeing them blush because of him.  He’s all talk though, well aware that when he’s drunk, neither he nor anyone else should take him seriously.  He’s just having fun!

Fang

I could see Fang going one of two ways when drunk: either he realizes he’s drunk and immediately goes to sleep regardless of location OR his walls come down and you get to see an almost completely unfiltered Fang.  When his walls come down, oh man, Arvio better watch out.  If Arvio were to try any shenanigans, Fang is definitely telling him to shut up and sit down.  He’s grumpy normally, so drunk Fang would be much more likely to express that grumpiness.  It’s not that he’s a mean drunk so much as he is just more comfortable expressing himself under the effects of liquid courage.

If he’s with the Builder, he becomes soooooo clingy and jealous.  “The feel of your touch, unforgettable.”  Yeah he’s not giving up the feel of your touch while he feels confident enough to truly demand it.  If the builder is standing, he’s right behind them with arms around their waist.  If the builder is sitting, his head is on their shoulder, hand on their thigh, glaring down other townies who get too close.  

X lowkey loves when Fang gets drunk because it means he doesn’t have to filter what he says either, not that he does it too much normally.  He definitely eggs Fang on if the kind doctor happens to be roasting someone (Arvio) like a squawking mini-hypebeast.  At the same time, X helps the builder out a lot with getting Fang to drink water and go to sleep.

He has a very low tolerance, 4 drinks max

Justice

Our favorite Sheriff and tiredest dad of all the bachelors, Justice definitely knows how to drink.  One of his best friends is the local saloon owner, so yes, Justice has a pretty high tolerance.  With that, Justice tends to be pretty mellow when he drinks, but if he’s with the builder, he’s getting flirty too.  He’s gonna lean hard into the cowboy aesthetic, with a fake tip of the hat before asking the builder to dance.  During the dance Justice is pulling the builder close enough to stand on his feet (so he doesn’t drunkenly stumble on them) & going all the way with the spins and twirls.  He’s not elegant by any means, but he is fun!  He’s giggly and having a good time (probably annoying Logan).

If the builder is a friend, he’d insist on walking them home to see them off safely before stumbling back to his house.  If the builder is more than a friend, Justice is definitely laying on the rizz  and trying to get laid down at the workshop.

[insert “hmm society” question about life here] (seriously though, why do all the civil corps members wax philosophical so often?)

Logan

We all know the yakboy only dances when he drinks, but what else will he do when drunk?  Logan has a temper, yes, but he’s also a soft gooey ball of affection with the people he cares about, and that dichotomy is on full display when he drinks.  He avoids drinking games (they’re dumb & childish & he’s a grown man, damnit), but if the Builder wants to get up to drunken shenanigans?  Oh he’s in.  

“Darlin’, are you seriously tellin’ me ya wanna go build a scarecrow that looks like death to set up outside Cooper’s house ‘n scare him when he wakes up at 4am?”  “Ye”  “What do ya need me to do?”

Surprisingly, not a horny drunk at all (fanfic writers sue me).  BUT, he is an affectionate drunk with the builder.  Kinda like Fang, he’s all about the physical affection, especially in public.  The builder is his, and he’s gonna make sure it stays that way.  When they get home, he just wants to lay in bed with the builder in a cuddly vice grip til they both fall asleep.

He definitely relies on Rambo knowing the way home, just hops up, tells the goat where to go, and halfway passes out in the saddle.  He’s definitely getting roasted for being a lightweight by Andy when he gets home.

Miguel

How else would a religious fanatic obsessed with discipline act when drunk?  Off the rails ranting & outright simping for the builder.  Full stop.  I’m not even a Miguel fan and I know this man is so down bad for the builder.  He wouldn’t even want to drink initially, until the builder challenges him to a game.  “Very well, Builder.  For the person who has done the most to promote telesis in this barren land, I can surely raise a glass or two in celebration.”

Once he’s drunk, expect a strange combination of sermon and praise for the builder (he will definitely be mortified in the morning).  But if the builder even touches him by accident, he’s already hiding a sneaky semi tenting his pants.  

“Miguel…are you hard right now?”  “Builder, it would be a sin for me to deny the truth of this situation.  *proceeds to dramatically throw his jacket off*  Take me now, body and soul.”  “I mean, sure, but…can that wait til we can get home?”  “OH…………………..yes”

The next morning, while nursing a hell of a hangover and the raw, unfiltered embarrassment of drunken mistakes, he vows to never drink again.  At least, as long as the builder doesn’t ask him to.

Owen

Honestly?  I don’t see Owen acting too differently when drunk, just a lot less anxious when interacting with the builder.  Seemingly out of nowhere, his stuttering and nervous way of speaking with the builder is gone, replaced with a more confident barkeep.

He’s wicked good at drinking games, having spent his entire life inside of a saloon.  If you think you’re winning beer pong or rage cage against Owen’s 6 foot something ass, you’re wrong.  There’s a reason Justice and Logan outright refuse to play drinking games with him, and it’s cause it always ended with someone throwing up.  Never Owen, though.  He’s got a finely tuned tolerance for alcohol and knows exactly where his sweet spot is.  

He won’t really try to initiate any sexy times with the builder, but if they start dropping hints for him?  “Justice, can you watch the bar while I step out with the builder real quick?  They need some help..um…perfecting a new recipe.”  Cue Justice’s shit-eating grin.  “Sure pardner, take as long as y’all need” with a quick wink at the couple

Pablo

Is he drunk, or has he just been pretending to drink that much?  Who knows?  Pablo’s been around, especially in Walnut Groove.  He knows how to drink and even more so, he knows how to look how to drink especially.  He’s watching the town get absolutely smashed with glee, taking stock of everything that happens, especially anything embarrassing.

He’s the one who calls at 8am the next morning when you’re hungover to hell and back and tell you, in excruciating detail, every embarrassing thing you said and did, just in case you forgot.  All in all, I think he likes to drink a little, socially of course, but he’s far more interested in getting others drunk instead of himself.

Pen

Assuming that Pen can get drunk (he is sensitive to Duvos peppers), he’s gonna be glued to whatever the nearest reflective surface is.  But what actually surprises the builder is how genuinely affectionate he becomes with them, especially if they’re not officially a thing yet.  He wants them sitting in his lap so he can wrap their skinny arms in his big arms the entire time.

When he’s not being affectionate, he’s definitely trying to spar with them, though.  For Pen, fighting is very much foreplay, and this is even more true when he’s drunk.  He would already be turned on just by the builder existing, so a drunken brawl at 2am?  He’s the hardest he's ever been the entire time, full stop.  Bro is so hard from fighting the builder he has to take care not to fall flat on his face or he might break Pen jr.  

Pen avoids getting drunk because it also makes him feel guilty, at least some part of him.  He doesn’t necessarily like deceiving the builder (Sandrock he could take or leave tbh), but he has to so he can protect the life he wants for himself.  The builder changed a lot of that for him, so he feels a lot of guilt about keeping secrets.  Don’t be surprised if drunk Pen says he needs to confess something, only to go silent for 5 straight minutes before telling them he’s just hungry.

Qi

You know that meme about the guy’s roommate who blacks out and designs an entire airplane?  That’s Qi when he drinks, but with spaceships.  How did you get him to the saloon to start drinking in the first place?  Three words: Saloon Trivia Night.  Qi is competitive, and assumes that he’s usually at the top of his respective totem pole, so when Owen starts including trivia questions about archaeology, building, agriculture, etc, Qi can get frustrated relying on his team to answer for him.  And for every round lost, that’s another drink finished.  Soon enough, he’s ranting about the uselessness of “soft sciences” and the possibilities of interstellar space travel (someone please just make out with him and shut this nerd up)  The drunker he gets, the more he only excuses the builder’s mistakes and no one else’s.

This man definitely gets hot and bothered when drunk, but has no idea what he’s feeling or what to do about it, so he usually just goes to bed.  If the builder is romancing him, though?  The builder will definitely need to initiate things, but from there a now-uninhibited Qi goes off, following any and every instinct he can that the builder will allow.  He wants to try everything with them, for science of course.  

Unsuur

Regular Unsuur is honest, if a bit stoic.  Drunk Unsuur is too honest, and still kinda stoic.  As soon as he has a thought, he’s saying it, no filter.  It doesn't matter who he is talking to or what he is saying, he’s gonna let loose with whatever he’s thinking.  “Hey Cooper, why do you talk so much?  Like, you talk a lot.  Going on and on, kind of like I am now.  Why do you do that?”

“Unsuur, are you drunk?”

“Yeah.  Oh.  Builder, can I make love to you until you’re breathless and destroyed and the only word you know is my name?  I think you’d be really beautiful like that”

“Unsuur, we’re in public! Everyone can hear you right now.”

“Oh, yeah.  We should probably go home before doing that.  Pretty sure having sex in public is a crime.”

Aside from shamelessly flirting with the builder, Unsuur would also just wax philosophical to all the town pets in some corner of the saloon.  None of the other drunks there could keep up with his train of thought, but he doesn’t let that stop him.  Now Macchiato’s third eye is open, and he’s considering joining the civil corps under Captain.

I hope you guys enjoyed the headcanons! Let me know if you want to see the bachelorettes too! Yan has dialogue in the game about "mixing yakmel milk and catnip" so if y'all want any other headcanon posts, intoxicated or otherwise, let me know!

[nerdgal27]

A Story Behind the Painting

Home

Summary:

Part 4 of (Mikey and Me Part 3), (It Happened Again Part 2), and (Don't Want to Talk Part 1). Struggle after struggle. There comes a time when the inner demon destroys so much, that one doesn't know what else to do. Other than keep the inner demon from loved ones.

Tags: Substance Abuse, Depression, Flashbacks, and Abuse.

Home 

Sunshine dapples the deep green forest. Burn the late morning dew glittering jewels in mid air. Coffee mug in hand black liquid slosh onto cold fingers as I wobble down the tiny staircase of the camper pickup truck. An old rust bucket is the last bit of my savings can afford. 

Sit on a lazy afternoon in a cozy chair. Stare at the endless view of evergreen pines and misty gray mountains is worth it all. Take in the cool sweet wood scent of green fill sore lungs. Swivel chair further away from an old gravel path. Wind over the lush undergrowth. Where customary rodents cover last night's tracks. Eat the empty nut shells and left over trail mix I left for them. Can’t stomach to eat anything again. What’s the point now?

Shield away by Mother Nature’s warmth and green walls. Her sweet melody chirps and whispers in the silence. The sticky sun glues me under the camper cobweb awning. Spiders big enough to play the banjo. Thought grows a chuckle to who said that once. Forever gone away in the forever distance. All for the best. For everyone. For them most of all. 

Free from pain, from it all. It has been done. No need to know the outside world. Can almost imagine it all. Not now. No need to think about any of that at all. Other than wonder how hot this coffee is for me to sip. 

Deep rich aroma takes me away from the pines. Old giggles bounce from concrete walls. Sparks spray in all directions mingles the smell with old metal. When muddle hands rub black grease over my eyebrow. Old scooter parts vomit all over the floor. A victim to be torn apart, rebuilt to either drive faster. Or explode. 

Phone rings memories back to green and soft blue reality. Muffle in the far depths of the 1967 brown and green camper. Can’t be right, I shut it off last night. 

Crawl back into the sauna brown dungeon. Follow the ringtone to the front. Weave over the hot tea water bottles on the fuzzy floor. Brush last night’s debris aside in the trap of doom between the front seat. Bright pink old life shivers in a frenzy. 

I shouldn’t turn the phone over to see the screen. This needs to be my new life now. Can’t go back anyways. How can I like this? How can anyone? Doing this for them. An glove box that only opens and closes by a swift kick is a good place to bury it all away. Turn off all of the past in orange velvet darkness. Leave it all tucked away. Return to the fresh sirene new life. 

Canadian geese honk over the tall tree peaks. The way the flock swoops down a long terrain down from blue skies and feather clouds. Sunrays beam grasshopper hisses mid day summer heat. Follow the distant honks and splash. A cool lake lap over dry cracked feet sounds perfect. Clear this heavy head of mine. 

Wander back inside. Cool worn out duds for lake water. Cold beer in hand, tuck comfy chair under my arm. A handful of fluorescent pink tags roll in hand. Nice way to return to my new home without getting lost. Wait for another set of geese to flutter above. Lead the way out of the hot sun. Weave between the trees. Step over tree root monsters. Smile at the odd bird or animal hops by. 

“We don’t keep secrets, right?”

I whisper to the memories. “No, you don’t.” 

Another voice in the dream rasp. ��He still loves you.” 

He shouldn’t, neither should any of you. Too broken, not enough. Difficult. 

Out here. All are no different than any woodland creatures from the largest moose to the small voles scurry by. What is worse, to remember the words. Or the subtle silence of the first night when all of this began. A sink full of awful empty decisions. The oldest brother’s quiet gaze. Patterns flourish in the forest around me. Bright shapes shimmer all that is long gone behind me. Nothing wrong with a cold one in hand on a hot day. 

Besides, take in all of this. A wide dark turquoise green lake. Full of life. A single loon lone coo along with the tiny dots of geese in the water. Soft gentle slopes into sand and clay. Show evidence of deer were here moments ago. 

He misses you that’s all 

One’s voice. Does he?… Of course he does. How could he not? Everyone else knows. 

Sit down in the chair. Set down the last 3 cans of a 6 pack. Miraculous 3 survivors of a drunk blackout yesterday. Crack open heaven. Slide it down the fire throat. Feel it burn over it all. Take in this brand new peaceful life of quiet. Should bring out a couple fishing poles for tonight. If I remember to come back for them. Can’t go back to anything nowadays. 

When will I see you? 

My old self. When my voice had more life. 

Soon, Sweetheart, it will be like old times. 

There’s a reason why they are called old times. It was a good life. A loud life, somewhat chaotic. The endless laughs, pile ons, pushing around. Plastic cockroaches in cupboards, glitter in ninja smoke bombs. One time Mikey and I replaced Raphael’s shower gel for blue dye. Guy was a grumpy Smurf for 4 days. His grouchy growls. The wooden spoon in papa turtle Smurf’s hand. Mikey ran for his life. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. Wash over the more recent screams and pushes away. Even more of the dark and bleek. 

When closet doors rattle. Whisky bottles smash in the far distance- 

No. Not again. Never speak of it again. None of that ever happened. 

Water swishes numb ankles. Whirl to baby ducks splash nearby. Over work, Mother of 6 squacks her children to behave and paddle behind her. Chuckles at their little feet blur under the clear water. Match the same speed of their cotton ball wings. Can remember when Mikey used to run the same way. Anytime Donnie chases Mikey out of his lab. Sometimes so then Donnie and I could play science and pupil again. 

Water waves between my toes. Shallow parts warm from the sun. Heat numb limbs. Swallow back to boiling hot water. Scorch delicate young skin.

Mommy it’s too hot. 

No…stop

Screams echo. Blister scar. Bare to the summer heat. Every single one remembers every pain. Why did I wear this tank top? Why am I out here? Can’t stay.

Hands stick on to lawn chair. Water waves slosh against the sandy ridge. Small legs kick. Hot water splashes everywhere. Hands shove deep under water. 

Sweetheart, breathe…

Violet voice whispers. Take his invisible hands. Squeeze them. The way he told me to. No thumb rubs my hands. Take in all of the cool fresh pine. Have to get used to this alone. Least this way is the best. No one’s burden any more. Can pick up this lawn chair anytime. 

Wander back the pink flag trail. Lose myself to millions of songs birds and butterflies flutter by. Brush soft long grass under fingers as I go. Crisp fresh air. Think about what bait to use for food tonight. Another thing I will have to start getting used to. 

Yellow happy face atena swings in between shrubs. Wave me down the direction home. Swig the last bit of powerful robust dark beer. Ignite pain away in a smooth burn. Drown darkness where they belong. 

Soft breeze hushes the forest buzz. Breathe in strong bitter fuel knocks the taste of beer. Great animal growls a deep hungry growl. Take me back to a cool violet room. To a lab chair and elastic bands for hair tying. 

“Sweetheart!?”

 Old life hollars me dead frozen in the tall grass. Hidden behind thick honeysuckles. The low hanging tree branches block the meadow opening of my new home. Don’t need to see how close the voice is. Can hear his feet crunch back and forth in the gravel. Rusty truck doors whine open and slam shut. Yellow smiley atena whirs in a hyperactive spaz. Empty cans clang on the far away floor board. Fast in a frantic, more than the time he caught Mikey in his mutagen supply. 

Footsteps wobble in the far depths of camper sweet camper. No.

He can’t be here. No one can find me like this.  I did this for them. They need to stay away from me. Far from any ear shot here. Can drop everything and run. Spin to do so. Lungs leap to jump for the hot pink trail back to the lake. 

Get back here! 

Hot greasy hand clap thunder. Drop the entire lazy afternoon supply. Oh crap no! Don’t drop them.

Metal chair legs clang against beer cans. 

Shallow gasp in the wind. Pushes me faster down the trail. Teenage bare feet pound thistles and burrs I weaved around before. 

Child bare feet blur down a hallway. Slam the bedroom door shut. 

“Tessie, wait!” 

Oh shit! Dammit! All the curse words Mikey should never hear. He found me. Faster down the hill. Over the log. Reach for the ridge. Follow the open blue sky between the evergreen trunks. 

Slip under fast large hands. Hardwood scraps small bare knees. Away from him. Away from the man. Go go go. 

Feet hush to the quiet breeze and soft rainfall of leaves. The broken footpath behind me, bare. Maybe turned back to the shellraiser for something. No matter. Least I can slow down, and lungs can breathe. 

Leaves rustle ahead. Green blur drops from above. Dead in his tracks. The tall slender turtle raises his hands and snatches me. Should have known. Been raised by ninjas for Pete sake. 

Jerk arms in his grip. Swallow the rock down. 

“Donnie, what are you doing here? Let me go.”

Sink away from his gaze. Loosen his grip to one hand on my arm. 

He pants, “I’m not here to fight, and I should be the one asking you the same question.” 

Rip his hand off me. No point in running. His long legs follow behind down the path. As I pick up the lawn chair. 

“No phone call, no note, do you know what I found in that camper?” His feet pound behind. 

Pick up what’s left of the 6 pack. Dangle the last 2 cans yet to be drank. No point in hiding it now. Plus he said he’s not here to fight. There’s no need to answer. Lanky green hands rip the plastic rings. 

“Hey!”

Whirl back to the two cans soar into the forest. Shove Donnie back. 

“What the hell was that for? That stuff ain’t cheap.” 

He towers over me. Loom a dark shadow over. Calm eyes narrow into deep violet slits. Deepens his sharp tongue. 

“Do you know how long I drove to find you,

How long we’ve been looking for you?” 

Step out of his shadow. Continue down the path into the sunlight. Home sweet home lies ahead. 

Shrug as I go, “You didn’t have to. Just decided to take a trip, that's all, what’s wrong with that?”  

Old life lingers in the shadows. Listen to teeth grit splinters. Boy did he skip coffee? Why is he hear anyway. Everyone knows so what’s the point?

Set the lawn chair back under the shade of a hunter's green awning. Since Mr. Grumpy in the corner threw a good set of cans. Guess I’ll have to get more. Crawl back inside the brown velvet coffin. Weave over the thrown cans on the floor. Guess I’ll have to clean this soon. The camper door slams shut. 

“I wouldn’t shut that, unless you want to melt.” I speak to the ghost by the door. 

Silence. Gonna be civil now. Want to burn holes through my head? Go on, do it. Everyone else is gone, why should anything matter. Open the mini fridge. To an endless supply of bottles, cans, and what I forgot most. Leaps off the shelves, plop to the fuzzy floor. 

Oh shit. 

“…what is that?” 

He’s the brainiac and yet he’s asking me? Should be pretty obvious by the label. Let his long legs weave around me. Take a bag from the fridge. I Crack open a cold one. Fire burns down all those dark heavy nights. Think back to all of the colorful waves last night.

“…T-this…” 

Leave him in the camper. Let him figure it out himself. Wasn’t supposed to be here to begin with. Might as well read what brand I use, for what? Who knows. 

Set the can in the lawn chair. Camper door shuts, no slam? Weird. Shouldn’t he be furious or something? 

Been standing there for a while. Turn to him at the metal steps. Shaded from the hot sun. Bag shivers in between his fingers. Lost to the horizon. That I’ve seen thousands of times in his brown eyes. His internal gears whir. He never looks like this unless…

“You do know, right?” 

Silence answers. The deep rise and fall of his chest. He sinks down to the flatten tall grass. Let the bag fall between his fingers. A look I make when I wake up from a nightmare. Before I would run straight to his bedroom. 

Set the can away. How? What?! 

Rise up from the old seat. I ask, “The guys never told you?” 

Rise from his palms, bambi eyes round wide, “They know about this?!” 

“Well…yeah”- 

“How long?” He mutters, waiting for an answer, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Take a step away from his ember coals glow. Shrug an answer, “I thought you knew, how can everyone else know but you Donnie, you know every inch of the city.” 

“How was I supposed to know?” He shoots from the ground. Bury me in his height, “You never call or text me anymore, and then leave the city to who knows where, does Mikey know?!” 

Mikey. Golden sun, white dust particles float over the sweet turtle. Bath in old and new sunlight. Breathe that old dry air of that lazy morning. 

Nod in silence. Hoarse throat stops all words Heavy numb limbs drag back inside the brown coffin. Large queen size mattress at the back. Warm by the sun. Shut all of the curtains away. Curl all away in a ball. Close away from all life. This is not what is supposed to happen. 

“Sweetheart?” Footsteps wobble the camper. 

No answer. Feel the camper sink down with him. Warmth touches my arch back, soft thumb rubs me to the old cool lab. All those years ago. 

“What are your plans for being out here?” He whispers. 

No, he already knows now. He can’t know about this too. It will crush him. Shiver under his soft palm. There’s no going back. I’ve made this decision. Already caused enough problems as it is. First Leo. How it all turned Raph down into this dark hole. Times I’ve picked him up because of what I’ve done. Tried to fix it all for Mikey. Tried to be happy for Mikey. Yet…I am here. This is what I deserve. Donnie shouldn’t even be here. Why is he still here?

Weight shifts the mattress. Warmth drapes behind all along against me. His long arm slides around me. Pull me back tight against his beating heart. Donnie’s muzzle nestles deep into my shoulder. It doesn't take much for him to know. 

Brush back strands from my cheek. 

He whispers, “You don’t deserve to go through this alone.” 

Roll in his arms. Drown myself into this chest I’ve missed so much all night long. Muzzle in his sweet scent and warmth. Squeeze all pain in his tight arms. 

I shake, “I-I Don’t kn-know… if I can go back, big brother, I-I’m too broken. No one should be stuck with me”- 

Soft lips plant firm silence my heavy forehead. 

“You are never too broken, it’s okay to have space for a while when you need it.” His deep voice murmurs in my ear. 

Cling on to his belt. The same way when I was small. Take me back to the memories. Away from all of this. Let all of the pain drip onto his chest. Choke on my words.

As my brainiac brother traces slow circles on my back. Sweet rich coffee fills my world. Over the fresh pine. More warm than the summer hot sun. A soft sigh quells more than the lone loon. I am back home. This is home. Safe. Can hide here as long as I need. 

 He whispers, “I will stay for as long as you need me, little pupil.” 

Bit through all the painful tears to fall. That roll down my brother’s chest. Yesterday I was in darkness. Tomorrow, who knows where I will be. For now I am with Donatello. My close friend, my big brother.

I am home. 

[3mutantsinatrenchcoat]

Halfway through camp event..

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Well well, at the halfway mark it seems there are...some issues.. going on outside the camp.. fret not...

The Being is here to keep you safe!

Common questions to be answered below!

Can you breathe or are you drowning: no you are not drowning! You can very much breathe it's a liquid to fill the shell to keep the camp from rocking during the fight outside the cave.

The water is more like a a filler, a jello if you will.. breathing is not affected and ninpo is far more wild!!

What does this mean for the camp?: we will have probably new "caretakers" wandering around, the being will only show up in camp during breaks in the fight

Are we dying: NOPE

For any of questions I'll be answering them in my ask box and in the discord! Any that I deem necessary will be posted into three's notebook in the server and also in a post here.

THE BIGGEST MENTION TO THEM ALL!

@midwesternvibes voicing the being

@idk-im-just-here-now the beast

These two lovely people VOICED the being and the beast! They were amazing, simply amazing, perfect, couldn't have accomplished it without you both.

Midwest: you sung- CORRECTION YOU REWROTE AND SUNG an epic musical song to fit into the being's mindset, to fit what needed to be put down..for that, thank you. That was amazing..you did amazing with the vocals, with the anger..perfect.

Idk: you did amazing, the voice, the pride, the assumption of being better than..the mockery..the TONE you did amazing..I could not have been more excited to have someone be the beast

Now onto the lovely people who gave me their characters to play with!

@belleyells gave me SMOKEY!!

@karonkar gave me MARCO

@owliedoesnothing gave me VIA

@chessman-protocol gave me MIKHAIL

@v-albion gave me their LOVELY DONNIEEEE AAAA

@little-banjo-frog gave me GANYMEDE

@cephie/ (couldn't find their Tumblr) gave me VENUS

@twignotstick gave me DA BLUE ONE

@wandering-ghost gave me GHOSTYYY

@languajix gave me UNCLE MIKEYYYY

@themoneysniffer gave me LEN THEIR SONA

@its-just-wren gave me THEIR SONA AS WELL

[iggyguyy]

if you ever wanna lore dump about your ocs I’m here I GRHRHRHEHKRHEJ I NEED TO MORE ABOUT THEM

You are now one of my favorite people ever I hope you know that <3

INSANELY LONG LORE DUMP UNDER READ ⚠️❌️

The over-all story of the silly guys:

It's about this 5 person band filled with weirdos in the very real Texas town named Round Top Senior (better version of round top). They live together in a small apartment and have a lot of playing gigs at the local all inclusive bar. Their main problem is money. Money for a new apartment. Their non human drummer is still growing, and is slowly outgrowing the current apartment. They are desperately looking for money to buy one that can actually house their huge drummer. One day this all changes when a 6th person gets sort of kidnapped by the banjo player and has to stay there for a while. No one really likes him and he has no idea how to act around neither queer people nor non humans. Chaos ensues when he finds himself slowly falling in love with the weirdo who got him in that situation in the first place...

THE 6 MAIN CHARACTERS:

Mama 🌞🪕: No one knows who or what he is, but he is sure there! His warm pink skin, his bright green hair and his huge chest make him very loved around the town; you'd recognise him anywhere! His species, age, gender, past and motives are all unknown, even to him. All he knows is that he likes stringed instruments (He plays the banjo, guitar, bass, electric guitar and harmonica) and that he loves befriending humans and learning more about them. There's something about him that really drives people to love him. His huge list of past lovers really shows this!

While most people (including him) don't know, he's actually an impressive 2723 years old. He's the last stander of a species that went extinct around year 700 B.C. I could do a post just about this species but good lord it's so much

He / him used on him mostly, he couldn't care less. He has a vagina and seems to be able to reproduce, no one has really tried. He has a very deep voice and a strong Cuban accent. 200 cm / 6'6 ft. Doesn't have body hair below the face, 0 fingernails and never wears underwear. He also REFUSES to wear shirts / cover his titties. His "titties" are actually holding a very sweet and intoxicating liquid, and the "lines" under his chest are shallow slits that excrete the smell of this liquid.

No Canon gender or sexuality but he will be with anyone who wants him. His favorite band is Buffalo Springfield. Old ass drawing but its still one of my favs!

Richard Kelly / Dickhead 🕶🎸: He thinks that he's the coolest guy ever but oh god he is STUPID! He tries so hard to be likeable that most people just end up hating him instead. From his neglectful parents and bullies in school, he's ended up being a very pretentious and dismissive person. He doesn't really "get" queer people, he thinks most people are beneath him and he doesn't even slightly respect non human people. Why is he even here? Good question! After getting mad at Mama for "stealing his girl" (His gf Jill broke up with him because he was yelling at her in front of Mama), he got so mad in his drunk state that he fainted mid-punch and woke up on Mama's couch the next day. The rest is history! He tries to pretend that he hates the band but oh god he's starting to love them so much. He also canonically loves goth girls.

He / him, cis male. 175 cm / 5'7 ft. Has a HUGE ass. Stubby beard paired with sad mustache. Cis straight man in the beginning of the show, cis BI man at the end! 25 years old, birthday is the 15th of August. His favorite band is Gorillaz. Haven't drawn him in ages whoopsies!

Julius Amadeus Usoro 🍎🥁: Big guy! This huge monstrosity is the head honcho of the band, their drummer and the one who owns the apartment! He has a huge fear of birds and insane abandonment issues. He tackles having 3 jobs at once, drummer for the band, ASL teacher for their deaf neighbour and he also teaches the drums! His other hobbies includes competitive eating, cooking, anything that has to do with apples, going on runs and walks, cooking even more, napping and cooking again. He is a mix between a sewerian and a Häll-horn, hence his purple skin! Most people just know him as "the demon" though. His brain is very small and he's not that bright, but he has a big heart and he is very loved by the band. He is illegal in many places and the band literally have to say that he's a guide dog to get out of some situations. The people of texas really don't like "demons". He legally adopted Marv in high school. Won't say his whole long ass backstory either but he was raised by a Russian lesbian couple who owned a big apple farm. He is also mute! He communicates through ASL or messy writing!

He / him, cis grayromantic bisexual male. 255 cm / 8'4 ft. 21 years old, birthday is the 10th of October. Huge titties on this guy. Gets winter fur but is pretty hairy all year round anyway! Paw-like hands. His favorite band is The Beatles.

His current design has him wearing headphones more times than not, but these old drawings still work to shoe his design :3

Marvin Juhani Usoro / Marv 🎺💣: The youngest in the band, but also the smartest by far! With 150 IQ and a concerning love for violence and explosives, this little pyromaniac is the main singer in this already weird band. He is completely blind, literally not having eyes at all under his opaque glasses, two of his limbs are amputated and his scarring is painful, so he uses his trusty crutch-cane wherever he goes. He's in and out of asylums and switches back and forth between psychologists, which is awful for him due to strong noscomephobia [fear of hospitals or care facilities]. He's diagnosed with bipolar disorder, autism and borderline personality disorder. His mother got killed by a faulty bomb he made, and his dad disowned him afterwards; making Julius and the band his only family. He was born in Borås, Sweden, to two Jewish finns, so he speaks english/finnish/swedish/jiddisch.

He / him, cis aroace sex+romance repulsed male. 177 cm / 5'9 ft. Big part of his nose gone due to explosion. 16 years old, birthday is the 3rd of March. His favorite band is either Insane Clown Posse or Children of bodom. Ignore that his foot is only missing on one drawing it's a pretty recent change !

[Dead name] Hernandez / Buddy 🎹🤙: They are the backbone and most street smart one in the band, without them the rest of them would be completely lost! They love messing with the others amd pulling small pranks. They're diagnosed with Adhd. As a side gig they like to play piano and sing during nights at the club without the band, usually with a bar specific backup crew. They are a recovering alcoholic and struggle with smoking. They used to be very ablelist and cruel to people, but they decided to leave that life and they're trying to become the bigger person. They write pretty much half of their songs [other half being by Julius], and being in this band is the best thing that ever happened to them. They've completely cut off the ties to their family who still lives back in Spain. They pride themself in their big amount of friends, always making sure to check in on them and hype them up. They don't use their dead name ever, except for legal instances, but it doesn't make them that uncomfortable so they can't be assed to legally change it.

Any pronouns, mostly they / them. AFAB genderfluid lesbian. They still view gender for them as fluid, but still primarily fem! They are 28 years old and their birthday is the 1st of April. 167 cm / 5'6. Their favorite band is Queen, but fav artist is Cass Elliot.

Dominic Smith / Dom 🎷🖼: The half raccoon half human who ran away from home and just happened to meet Julius! This sax playing maniac is so obsessed with Julius that he clings to him 24/7. He has autism, adhd, strong maladaptive daydreaming disorder and even stronger schizophrenia. He basically lives in his own little world and sees things as a jumbled mess of bland colours, and that's why he loves Julius and the band so much; they're a break from the same old same old! He grew up on a corn farm for most of his life, living with his mother and 2 older brothers. His dad was nowhere to be found, and Dom cant remember meeting him ever. He loves sporting his beautiful knockoff slipknot merch and jeans. He has a very hard time remembering things. His special interest is spongebob! [Although he calls him "monty spumbop" for whatever reason ?]

He/they/xe, amab but pretty much completely unlabeled. No one has ever explained the concept of gender to him in a way he understands, but if someone managed to do it he would most likely use xenogenders. He's silly like that. 155 cm / 5'1 ft tall. 19 years old, birthday is the 17th of January. His favorite band is slipknot.

SOMEWHAT IMPORTANT SIDECHARACTERS;

Barbra Scarlette Wilson / Barb 💄🎀: A 32 year old 190 cm tall texan dragqueen millionaire! He has the biggest, pinkest house in town, and he is PROUD of that! He uses he/him and is a cis gay man. His drag name is Scarlette Darling. He is absolute besties with Buddy and even gave them a specific pink flip phone that only has his number, so it's easier to contact him! He has a crush on Julius that pretty much everyone except Julius himself has noticed.

Kino 🟦💢: 29 year old unlabeled Häll-horn whos Ukrainian and Russian, very traditional one too. He has embraced the "demon" culture and is completely against all humans. He absolutely hates Julius because he thinks that he's a disappointment and embarrassment to the whole species, with how human influenced he is. He is very aggressive and mean.

Kaleb 🟥❔️: 20 year old trans ftm pansexual Sewerian whos Ukrainian, not very traditional one. He doesn't care too much about traditions or hating humans, he just wants to relax and live as he likes. The only reason he hangs around Kino is because they can relate over both being non human and "demons". He had to pretend to hate Julius just to make Kino happy, secretly he thinks Julius is extremely attractive so whoops that's not what Kino wants!

Oscar Pérez 🍊🍺: A 37 year old cis male gay human from Mexico. He used to date Mama and planned on getting married to him while Mama was in Mexico, after getting left alone completely randomly by him, Oscar swore to find him and get revenge on him. Now he's found him again, but he still loves him too much to go through with it. So now he's just in an abusive relationship with him instead! Oscar gets a lot of pent up anger he usually takes out on Mama, since he thinks he deserves it. Mama doesn't even remember who he is or that they're even together, but he still keeps letting Oscar treat him as if they're an item.

Jill Dimitry 🖤💫: Richards ex gf. She loves rock and is trying to learn the guitar. She is cis female and bisexual. She can get fed up very easily, so it's a surprise she didn't break up with Dickhead earlier! She doesn't talk to Richard anymore but she's talking to Buddy and Mama every now and then.

Rita Salvador ✏️💛: Julius' old high school roommate and girlfriend. She was a huge beatles fan and collected spongebob merchandise! She was a transfem autistic girlie who always wore her socks over her baggy sweatpants. She died when Marv was working on a bomb and accidentally knocked it to the floor, the explosion happening close enough to Rita to kill her, but only knock out Marv. Julius just lied to Marv and explained that she died of a heart attack, not wanting Marv to feel guilty. Rita named herself after the beatles song "Lovely Rita" !!

Alia 🌼🫒: The local florist shop owner! She sells handmade and homegrown bouquets and all kinds of flowers! She was very close friends with Rita. She loves meeting Julius during the week, even if she can't understand his ASL! She's a transfem Muslim who always sports her cool handmade skirts! ALSO SHE WAS CREATED BY THE LOVELY @animatronicthing [art in the photo below was made by schyr!!!!!!!!] GO CHECK THEM OUT

There are a few more characters worth mentioning who don't have a decided design or aren't that relevant but still!!!!!!!!:

The Abdullahi family. They are the band's neighbours whi recently moved here from Nigeria. Mrs. and Mr. Abdullahi don't know a lot of English, and their daughter Sani is deaf and autistic. Julius spends his free time teaching ASL to Sani!

War veteran neighbour: old man in wheelchair who lives across the street to the sillies and often goes out on his balcony at the same time as mama, making them greet each other every now and then.

Freddie: he's the local pizzeria owner and he absolutely loves getting visited by Dom and Julius, it really makes his day!!

That's pretty much all characters who are somewhat developed, but oh god there's more! TY sososososoosososoosososoososososoososo much for this ask i am literally going insane !!!!!!!!!

That's my sillies, bye ! ✌️

[or13m]

Ink Wells and Dark Spells (batim) chapter 004

The ink flowed around you like a comforting blanket, warm and smooth. Despite this, you held your breath, not wanting to inhale it like you had the first time Ink had taken you through one of his portals. You swear you had coughed up ink for a week straight after that. The demon thought it had been hilarious...

Soon enough, you felt cool air fan over your face, letting you know that your journey had ended. You opened your eyes--not realizing that you had even closed them--and took in your new surroundings. It was an unfamiliar area of the studio. Ink puddles stained the floors and walls as they did everywhere in this realm. The only things not marred by the black liquid were the many instruments strewn about the room: a piano, banjo, drum set, and many more you could not name. There were chairs for the musicians to be seated at and music stands for their music sheets to be displayed. There was even a recording booth off to the side, complete with a professional microphone.

Truth be told, you didn't really understand any of these things. You only knew a handful of the musical items thanks to Bendy showing you his cartoons that happened to have them in it. The piano being the one normally in the spotlight.

Ink set you down on your feet before moving further into the music department. The only sound he made was a low growl when you unwound your tail from his and padded your way over to the piano in the corner. You ran your fingers over the gleaming keys, taking your time to think about your next words.

Surprisingly, the ink demon was the first to speak.

"You wish to know who that was?" he phrased it as a question, but already knew the answer. At your hesitant nod, he continued. "Audrey. She was born of this realm but lives in the 'real' world."

"The real world?" you repeated, watching as Ink started to pace the room. You eyed the way his ink was running more than usual and his movements were growing harsher and more jerky. "Why did she come here?"

Ink snorted at the question--a humorless laugh.

"Because she's nosy and forgets her place," he snarled, spade-tipped tail snapping behind him. He didn't say anymore and you didn't push it.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, racking your brain to come up with a solution to calm your friend down. Your eyes drifted back to the keys at your fingertips. You gave an experimental push, a soft note breaking through the tension in the air. Using your pinky next, you pressed another, a bit harder this time. Another note, not in tune like the last, but a note all the same. You had no idea what you were doing, having no memory of playing any sort of instrument, but the gargled chuckle at your back told you that someone was enjoying your antics.

"I believe you need some practice, Mouse," Ink teased into your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin. His hands came into your vision on either side of your own, splayed over the keys. You watched in awe as he expertly played a short little tune. The notes were slightly off but not horribly so, especially to your untrained ear. You sagged against him with a pout, tipping your head back so that you could look up at his face.

"How'd you make it look so easy?"

Ink merely chuckled at you, running one of his long pointed fingers down your cheek to the tip of your chin. His eyes followed the line of ink as it sunk into your skin, disappearing from sight. "Hm. It just takes learning...and practice." His hidden eyes turned back to stare at the keys, his voice taking on a hard edge. "LOTS of practice..."

You furrowed your brow at him. To you, it seemed he was recalling an unpleasant memory. And here you thought you had successfully pulled him out of his funk. Had the piano been a poor choice, after all? Time for a change of subject.

"Soooo," you started, settling further into the dripping chest at your back. Ink took the hint and, with practiced ease, swept you up in his arms before sitting on the floor with you in his lap. "Is this the place that Sam was at?"

"Sammy, and yes," Ink corrected with a huff. "He was in charge of this department before leading the Lost Ones."

"And going crazy?" you cut in with a cheeky smile. You'd only come across the ink man once while traveling with Bendy. He'd been wearing a Bendy cutout's face and praising your devilish companion's presence. He kept begging the toon for a "blessing" before he took notice of you. Poor Bendy had nearly ripped your arm out of its socket during the getaway when Sammy had asked if you were a "sheep" to be sacrificed. He'd refused to answer any questions about the strange occurrence until the next day when he'd taken his other form.

"I AM a god of this place in a way," Ink grumbled.

"Sacrificing 'sheep' seems to be going a little far, don't ya think, m'lord?" Another cheeky grin lit up your face when you tested out the title. The rumble you could feel at your back told you that you'd succeeded in riling your friend up. "Don't like it? I can come up with something else?"

Ink merely stared down at you in silence, the ever-dripping curtain of ink covering his eyes seeping into his quivering grin. The smile slipped from your face as no clever retort came from him. Worry settled into your gut and your tail instinctively reached out for his own. You weren't scared of him, but you were afraid that you'd gone too far in your joking around.

"Hey, Inky?" you started to turn in his lap, clutching the gifts in one arm while you reached out with the other. Your fingers barely brushed the curve of his cheek before your wrist was snatched in a vice grip and your tail was squeezed in another. You gasped at the unexpected actions, breath catching in your throat. Your tail was SENSITIVE and he KNEW that! Just as you opened your mouth to chew him out for it, Ink pulled you up against his chest. You were now on your knees in his lap, face next to his neck.

"Did you think that I wouldn't notice?" he rumbled, his chest vibrating against your own. "You're short of breath, your heart rate is low, and you're moving like a slug."

"A slug, really?" you griped, huffing at the description. "Can't you just say 'slow', like a normal person?"

Ink just chuckled, knowing that you wouldn't understand what normal was if it slapped you in the face. He was as far from "normal" as one could get. "Eat," he commanded, "You're starving."

You grumbled against his skin, face warm from the close proximity. A squeak escaped you when the tail wrapped around yours squeezed ever so slightly. He was going to hold you hostage, quite literally, until you succumbed to his demands. "Sadist..." you growled before letting your tense muscles relax in a sign of defeat.

"Masochist," he retorted, releasing your wrist but keeping hold of your tail in case you tried to make a run for it.

You steadied yourself against his chest, letting Ink take the gifts Bendy had given you and setting them off to the side so they wouldn't get squished in the process. Itchiness in your upper jaw made its presence known when you brought your face close to the junction of Ink's neck and shoulder. Two little fangs slipped out from hidden slits in your gumline, points sharp enough to penetrate the toughest skin. You hesitated despite the gnawing hunger in your belly. You hated this part. It always left you feeling like a monster...

Knowing that you needed reassurance, Ink was quick to give it. "Feed, little Mouse," he encouraged in his gravelly voice. "You will not hurt me. I feel no pain."

You sank your fangs into his inky skin, the sharp smell invading your nostrils. It wasn't off-putting like you think it should be, but more like an exotic bouquet. The taste that hit your tongue was even more divine...and addicting. You took your fill, barely aware of Ink's hands holding you steady against him. After several minutes, you finally felt strong enough to pull away. Your head was clearer, your limbs weren't as shaky, and you had a full belly.

Still, the embarrassment from having to get so close was near impossible to overcome...

"Why so red, little Mouse?" Ink spoke, amused as you squirmed around in his lap. He knew you were trying to get away, but he kept his arms locked around you and his tail tight on yours. "Embarrassed? This isn't the first time you've fed from me and it surely won't be the last." Gentle tugs on your scalp told you that he had started to play with your hair. Against your will, you started to relax at the ministrations, no longer fighting to escape. "That's it, sleep. You need the rest."

You couldn't help but silently agree. Every single time after you fed, exhaustion would hit you like a bag of bricks. It irked you that Ink acted like your caretaker, but it wasn't without reason. You had a bad tendency of ignoring your own needs, or simply just not recognizing them. Just this once, you'd let him slide. You slipped into darkness, a pleasant burn spreading through your veins.

[skycapt4in]

── ♡ 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 !!

♡  color  :  purple <3 ♡  season  :  spring! because it's that nice season between the Too Cold and Too Hot. autumn is.. messy, tress be falling apart and he doesn't like that. ♡  holiday  :  guy fawkes/bonfire night. it ain't a holiday but it's about a guy who tried to blow up the government and frankly why wouldn't he enjoy that?? plus, celebratory explosives ♡  location  :  he won't ever admit it but it's the isle of shards back on cryon, that's his home where his family live and even though it's fucking freezing and he hates the cold, it's still his favourite. ♡  activity  :  fishing, stealing, using shi'p to basically cheat in drag races, exploring ancient sites for the funsies, 'playing' the banjo, reading and.. whatever hobby he's decided to take up that week to keep him occupied. ♡  film / show  :  the naked gun, it's just so silly and over the top and he loves it. ♡  food  :  anything with sugar in it tbh, but specifically toffee/caramel donuts OR his mom's special homemade spicy soup <3 ♡  beverage  :  hot chocolate!! it's liquid chocolate!! ♡  animal  :  huge fan of crows and corvids honestly, is it symbolism? nah, he just thinks it's cool as heck with how smart those guys are. plus, they can fly. dragons for the same reason but they aren't real :/ ♡  flower  :  ..trees are pretty neat. he didn't see a real, living tree until he was like 18 and he's just fascinated with them. ♡  song  :  scary little green men - ozzy osborne OR dancing queen - abba.. i can't explain this. his music taste is metal or glamrock and i don't know who did this to him.

tagged by : @manaborn <3

tagging : the person reading this, if they haven't already done it o7

[madness-poison-chat]

Fnac Void au: character ref sheet

Here we have all animatronics and the Main character of Fnac in my style. This is the "title art-piece" for my fnac anthro au. Here you can also find lore for them.

-Wilhelm Wagner is the founder and CEO of CTC.Entertainment. Originally the first actor for Candy, he has now enlisted his son in the acting buisiness.

-The RAT is a mysterious serial killer who is said to travel around the country looking for one-nighters and robbery. But if you try to dictate him... May you rest in peace.

-Mary Schmidt is a 17-22 year old who's family owns a family camp-site. She goes to work for Candy's in 1987 (in her 20's). She sadly never gets a good sleep.

-Candy is the son of Wilhelm, heir to the company, and the person Wagner named the character after. He and Cindy are the same age as Mary.

-(NAME UNCONFIRMED), the actor for Cindy, was sent by her rich family in New England to join Candy's and earn a powerful carrer. She's being fostered by Vinnie.

-Vinnie is an introverted "Kaminoan-esque species" who owns a woodwork shop. According to him, he used to work for Wilhelm as an actor, until disagreements got him fired. He HATES the RAT with a passion for taking his family away. He's also quite superstitious for some reason.

-Barty Feeble, nicknamed "Blank" for his stare, is CTC's self-proclaimed "Handyman". He's a hybrid of human and anthro bear, and because of such has had to endure unjust discrimination throughout his life. Despite this, he has a massive compassion and hope for children.

-Evans, Oates and Bowers. The three waiters for the town's Candy's place. They're about as tall as the tables they serve, and are comparable to R2D2. They live together in an RV (that carries more flammable liquids than one would expect).

-Chester is a but older than the "Candy twins". A talented banjo player, but with nowhere to live; it's no wonder he took Wagner's job offer (even though he dislikes crowds).

-Ehvunah ael su egmgy alh ovvoxv hpsgyzmhx Nprrbw hrh mzl VEM, oosq lskpc fwa lik vlqmlw hx xawpv ltfkw.

Fnaf belongs to Scott Cawthon, and Fnac belongs to Emil Macko.

-💀✒️

[all-the-things-2020]

Year of Fandom Crossovers: June

Title: “Fifty Shades of Orange”

Pedro Character: Dieter Bravo

Fandom Crossover: The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy

Warnings: expletives, mentions of sex, mild LGBTQ+ content

Summary: Dieter Bravo unexpectedly joins the crew of the Heart of Gold.

Notes: I have been a HHGTTG fan since high school. Douglas Adams and Monty Python seriously impacted the development of my sense of humor. The character of Balthazar has been floating around in my subconscious since the late 80’s when I was brainstorming for an unwritten sequel to a fic my high school BFF and I wrote that featured cameos by Ford and Arthur. Since it is June, and Dieter is canonically bisexual, I decided to add a queer flavor to the ending.

@yearofcreation2023 @perennialdoll247

Arthur Dent was confused, but that was not an uncommon occurrence. He entered the lounge on the Heart of Gold and found a rumpled man, close to six feet tall, with uncombed hair, a patchy beard, and a green dressing gown staring at the tea dispenser. He turned toward Arthur and scratched his head.

“Does this thing take American money? And where’s the button for the KitKat?”

Arthur blinked twice, then again for good measure. The man seemed human enough, but then, so had Ford Prefect when Arthur had first met him.

“Erm,” said Arthur. “Excuse me.”

He backed out of the lounge and sought out Ford, who as usual was in his quarters, listening to some sort of electronic banjo music from the latest Arcturian band. “Ford,” Arthur said.

“Arthur,” said Ford.

“There’s a man in the lounge. Wearing a dressing gown. He looks mostly human.”

“Oh, that’s Dieter,” Ford said, waving his hand dismissively. “Zaphod picked him up while you were asleep. Someone found him on their doorstep and they knew we had an Earthman with poor taste in clothes, so Zaphod thought it was you.”

“But he saw me at dinner last night. He had to know it wasn’t me.” Arthur was perplexed. Zaphod was absent minded and scatterbrained (despite the fact that he had two brains, due to having the two heads) but he couldn’t have forgotten about Arthur, could he?

Ford shrugged. “Probably forgot about you,” he said. “He has a hard time remembering what you look like, anyway. Saw the dressing gown and the dark hair and thought ‘Oh, that’s our Earthman.’ I can recognize you right off, but then I was stuck on Earth for a long time. Most sentient beings have a hard time telling Earthpeople apart.”

Arthur was not appeased. “He certainly can recognize Trillian well enough.”

“Well, it’s different with her,” Ford said. “She’s not boring.” He sat up and switched off the music. “Best we go see what our new friend is up to.”

They went back to the lounge, where Dieter was sitting on the floor, looking glumly at a paper cup of tea. “It’s tea,” he said, sadly when he saw them.

“No, it’s not,” Arthur said. “Not really. But it’s as close as it’s possible to get now that Earth’s gone.” He took the cup from Dieter and sipped gingerly at the liquid. As always, it was almost but not entirely completely unlike tea. He grimaced, but swallowed anyway. 

“I hate tea,” Dieter said. “And what do you mean Earth’s gone? I was there last week. I think.”

“More like last year,” Ford said. “You’ve got a bit of freezer burn, mate.” He pointed out the frizzled ends of Dieter’s hair and some discoloration on the hem of his dressing gown. “Probably some Gozerians out picking up ‘specimens’ for jollies and forgot you in the freezer.”

“Whoa, there’s two of them!” Zaphod wandered into the lounge. “You been playing with that DIY cloning kit you got for your twelfth birthday again, Ford?”

“I don’t look anything like him,” Arthur protested. “I mean, look at us side by side.”

Zaphod tilted one head to the side, while the other stared up at the ceiling. “Yeah, okay, I can see it now. That one’s handsome.” He pointed at Dieter. “The other one is … not.” He turned to Ford. “Which one is yours again?”

“The not one,” Ford said. 

“Shame,” said Zaphod. “But I suppose two is almost as cheap to keep as one. He probably eats tea and biscuits like yours, right?”

“I hate tea,” Dieter said firmly. “And I want a KitKat. And an explanation. And a drink. And a joint. At the least.”

“The drink, I can provide,” Zaphod said. He pushed a button on the wall and a cabinet opened, displaying an array of exotic liquors. He used all three arms to pour a colorful concoction into a large snifter, which he handed ceremoniously to Dieter. “Not exactly a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster,” he said sadly, “but the best I can do without a full bar.”

Dieter sniffed the drink, took a cautious sip, and then tipped the glass back, downing the entire beverage in three gulps. “Now about that KitKat …,” he said before his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed in a drunken heap on the floor.

Ford and Zaphod exchanged impressed looks. “Four seconds,” Ford said. “Not bad for such a primitive life form.”

“Humans are not primitive,” Arthur protested. This produced a look from Ford that quickly silenced him. Images of war, corporate greed, environmental destruction and reality television swarmed his brain. Sometimes he forgot Ford was mildly telepathic. “Well, compared to Vogons, we aren’t,” Arthur muttered. 

“Your poetry’s better, I’ll give you that,” Zaphod said. “But what are we going to do with two humans?”

“Three,” Arthur pointed out. “Trillian’s human, too. There are three of us.”

“I meant two useless humans,” Zaphod said patiently. “Trillian is a woman. Earth women are amazing. Earth men …” He waved two of his hands derisively at Arthur and Dieter. It was justified in Dieter’s case, as he was drooling on the floor, but Arthur felt rather disrespected.

“At any rate,” Ford chimed in, “I’m sure we can find someone somewhere who wants a pet Earthman. They’re quite rare, after all.”

Now Arthur was properly indignant. “I say, you don’t consider me your pet, do you?”

Ford patted him on the shoulder. “No, no, of course not, mate. But not everyone in the galaxy is as enlightened as I am.” He nodded toward Dieter. “And just look at him.” Dieter was now curled up in the fetal position, sucking half heartedly on the end of his dressing gown belt, making little whimpering noises and muttering the words “KitKat” and “feathers” in an odd accent. 

Arthur shrugged. After all, the man had clearly said he hated tea. Perhaps he did need a minder. 

***************************************************************

Dieter woke up with the worst hangover of his life. “Take these,” a voice said, handing him two white tablets and a glass of water. The voice seemed friendly enough, so he swallowed the tablets and almost immediately felt better. His vision cleared and his head stopped pounding.

“What the fuck?,” he said, rubbing his hand through his hair. He really needed to stop dropping acid without supervision. “This isn’t my hotel room.”

“No, it’s not,” the voice said. Dieter looked up. It was a blonde woman, seated on a chair. He was on the floor surrounded by a small puddle of drool, but that didn’t stop him from attempting to smooth down the hair he’d just disheveled.  

“Um, hi,” he said. She was a bit of a looker. “Is this … your room?”

“It’s the lounge of the Heart of Gold,” she said.

“I thought this was the Westwood Arms Hotel and Conference Centre,” he said. 

The woman sighed. “I’m Trillian,” she said. “And this is the spaceship Heart of Gold. You aren’t on Earth anymore, I’m afraid.”

Thoughts swirled in Dieter’s head. He remembered a bit about last night: some guy with two heads and three arms making him a drink; someone mentioning Earth being missing; and either another guy wearing a bathrobe or the world’s worst mirror reflection. “Um … if I’m not on Earth, then I guess there aren’t any KitKats available?”

“No, sorry,” Trillian said. “I might be able to replicate you a KotKat but they aren’t really the same. Mostly because they come from Arcturus Prime and the closest thing to chocolate on that planet is the vomit of a peculiar green dung beetle.”

Dieter felt nauseated, but whether it was the aftermath of whatever chemical was still pickling his brain, or the dung beetle, he couldn’t tell. “Yeah, no, that’s fine,” he said. “So, um, this spaceship …”

Trillian stood up. “You can watch the educational tapes later,” she said. “Right now, you need to get cleaned up. Zaphod put out a classified ad for you and there’d been some interest. The showers are this way.”

Dieter struggled to his feet, swaying lightly. “Um, okay,” he said. “I’m Dieter, by the way. Would you like to have sex with me?” Now that he was sure his head wasn’t going to fall off, he thought he would shoot his shot. Trillian was the most attractive person he’d seen on this ship so far, and he might as well start at the top.

“No,” Trillian said simply. “I don’t think Zaphod would like it much, and besides …” She looked him up and down, her face indicating a certain degree of disgust. 

Dieter shrugged. It was like that sometimes.

***************************************

“The Antarian Brain Slugs just want to eat his brains,” Ford said, shaking his head. “We can’t waste a perfectly good endangered species, even if the price is right.”

“But capitalism, man!” Zaphod’s arguments tended to boil down to whatever would get him the most booze and/or sex. 

Ford snorted. “There is more to life than money, dear Zaphod.”

“Name one thing.”

“Alcohol.”

“Money can buy it.”

“Sex.”

“Again, money …”

Ford groaned. “Friendship?”

“Friends are ten for a dollar on Jabbux.”

Ford screwed up his face as he thought very hard. It was like watching a seal try to fly. “Inner peace!”

Zaphod laughed. “The monks of Zelus Three have a ten part course you can buy, inner peace and enlightenment guaranteed. I’ve done it six times. I’m ultra-enlightened.”

“Well, anyway, we’re not selling Dieter to the Antarians,” Ford grumbled. “How about this offer?”

Zaphod peered at the screen with one head, while the other was picking its nose. “Hmmm … Fashonia Six. Never been there. Might be good for a laugh. And we can pick up some new clothes for your Earthman while we’re there. That dressing gown is getting a bit tatty.”

“Fashonia Six it is,” Ford said. “Laying in coordinates. Engaging Infinite Improbablity Drive in twenty minutes.” He flicked on the PA system. “All hands, prepare for improbability in twenty minutes. Repeat. Improbability in twenty.”

***********************************************************

“What the fuck?”

Arthur had found that Dieter was quite fond of that sentence. He had said it approximately thirteen times in the past three hours. 

“We’re heading somewhere fast,” Arthur explained. “We’d best get to the rubber room.”

“Rubber room?”

“So we don’t hurt ourselves when things go pear shaped,” Arthur said. “And I mean literally pear shaped. Once I went banana shaped and I was terrified of monkeys for a week.” He led the other man down the corridor toward the rubber room. Trillian was already there, checking the integrity of the restraints. 

“You can have the deluxe seat,” she told Dieter, “as this is your first time experiencing improbability.” 

“Lucky bastard,” Arthur said. “It has a cup holder.” Once, he’d unthinkingly brought his tea (not tea) with him and it had spilled all over the rhinoceros, which had made for an uncomfortable silence, not to mention the tragic loss of tea (not tea). 

He and Trillian strapped Dieter into the seat, double checking all the buckles and tie downs and bungee cords. “Is all this really necessary?” Dieter asked.

“You’ll find out,” Trillian said ominously. Arthur simply gave Dieter a cheery thumbs up before taking his own (cup holder-less) seat. He cinched the belts tight and slid his hands into the restraining cuffs. 

Zaphod and Ford strolled in, discussing the results of the latest Ultra-Racquetball match. It was a slow point in the sports season.

“T-minus five minutes,” Ford said, as he assumed his seat. 

Arthur leaned toward Dieter. “It’s rather fun once you let your mind go mad,” he said. “The first time is the worst. Or the best, depending on how strong your ties to reality are to begin with. I threw up six times. That means my mind was exceptionally dull and boring.”

“T-minus two minutes,” Ford said. “Hang onto your heads, everyone.”

*******************************************

Dieter had experienced most drugs available on Earth, and yet what happened next was beyond anything he had ever seen, felt, smelt, tasted, or heard. Thirteen blue impalas pranced through the room; the fact that three of them were automobiles made the display even more impressive. His hands turned into hamburgers and were devoured by his feet. Arthur became roughly the shape of a large lemon, although his skin was a delicate shade of puce spotted with purple-black blotches. Trillian was riding a one horned lion with ballet shoes on. Zaphod was conversing with a large piece of cardboard. Ford was floating upside down while wearing a skirt made of rhubarb. All of this in just the first four seconds. After that, things got weird.

Dieter’s mind floated freely through the madness. He tasted aquamarine and saw a high C note. Words and feelings drifted past him and he latched onto some of them. A platypus dealt him a hand of poker and he won a stack of plastic chips that turned out to be tiny flying saucers full of minuscule green men wearing blue kilts, who promptly shot him with their ray guns and disappeared. It rained Gatorade and a forest of pickles sprang up around him. 

All too soon, a voice began to soothingly chant, “Normality in thirty seconds. Twenty nine. Twenty eight …” By the time the voice had reached “five,” the room was almost back to its original state, save for a slight tinge of lavender and the lingering scent of frogs.

“Whoa,” Dieter said. “I don’t know what that was, but I liked it.”

Arthur goggled at him, his face very pale. There was a dribble of vomit on the collar of his dressing gown. “You … you liked it?”

“Dude, I’ve dropped acid, smoked peyote, drunk ayahuasca, injected stuff some guy in a lab in the back of a panel van cooked up on his Coleman stove,” Dieter said. “But that was the best trip I’ve ever been on.”

Zaphod laughed. “Ford, are you sure you don’t want to trade in your Earthman for this one? He’d be a lot more fun at parties.”

Ford frowned. “I’m rather fond of Arthur, actually. I think I’ll keep him.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Dieter said. “Would you like to have sex with me?” 

Ford ignored him and Dieter shrugged. Two down, two to go. He might still get laid, although the idea of settling for Arthur was really dragging him down.

*************************************

Fashonia Six was a small but tasteful planet, close to Fashonia Five, which was much larger and filled with factories where clothing was made from the fibers grown on Fashonia Four. No one talked about Fashonia Three, which was a penal colony for those who had offended the Fashion Police, who were the ultimate authority in the Fashonia system.

“You did send a picture of him, right, Zaphod?” Trillian asked as they walked along the promenade in Guccitown. Everyone was dressed extremely well, which made Arthur and Dieter stand out like very ugly sore thumbs.

“Yeah,” Zaphod said, heads swiveling about to take in the sights. “No accounting for taste, I guess. Maybe they’re doing one of those extreme makeover thingies?”

Dieter was unimpressed. He’d worked in Hollywood for years, been to countless red carpets and after parties and fashion shows, and honestly had no use for fancy clothes. Flannel pants, a comfy tee shirt, Crocs and a bathrobe for chilly evenings was just fine for him. He dressed up for work, of course, because they paid him obscene amounts of money, but it was never really his jam.

Arthur, on the other hand, seemed cowed by the glamorous people passing them by. It could have been because he was wearing actual pajamas and slippers. Dieter had no use for pajamas. Too formal and matchy-matchy. And slippers fell off your feet so easily. Not like Crocs. Switch those babies to sport mode and you could run all day. If you had to. Dieter was not a big fan of running.

“Here is it, number 42,” Ford said. The building was small but made of elaborately carved marble. The door was painted a tasteful shade of pomegranate, to match the potted pomegranate bushes to either side of the entrance. 

They went inside to find a cream colored waiting room, with ivory colored chairs, eggshell colored tables and a snow colored rug. A bright green door, painted to match the potted lime trees to either side, led to the interior of the building.

“Welcome to the House of Balthazar,” said a soothing voice. “We will be with you shortly.” Soft jazz began to play, as bland and inoffensive as the decor.

“Posh,” Ford said, looking around. “I hate it.”

The door opened and a young woman with pale lavender hair, which matched her dress, which matched the sprig of lavender pinned to her shoulder, entered the room with a tray of champagne flutes. “Balthazar welcomes you,” she said. “Please, have a sparkling beverage before we enter the inner sanctum.”

To Dieter’s disappointment, the beverage in question was not champagne but rather an insipid lemon-lime soda, almost but not entirely like the cheap 7-Up knockoff he’d drunk as a kid. 

When the glasses were empty, the young woman collected them on her tray and led them through the bright green door. The room was empty, save for a table on which a pile of shocking orange fabric had been left in a heap. The woman bowed to them and disappeared through a blue door painted to match the potted blueberry bushes to either side.

They stood awkwardly for a few moments, until a deep voice said, “Welcome to my house.” Dieter looked around, but there was no one else in the room.

“Erm, thank you,” Ford said tentatively. 

The voice chuckled. “I see you are confused. Come closer.”

“Closer to what?” Trillian asked.

“To me.” The pile of fabric began to writhe until it had formed an approximation of a mouth. “It’s rather hard to move on my own, so I hope you don’t mind.”

“Is … is the fabric talking to us?” Arthur asked as Zaphod stepped closer.

“Yeah,” Zaphod said. “Totally hoopy. What are you?”

“I am Balthazar,” the fabric said. “I am a sentient form of polyester, brought to life due to an industrial accident involving a power surge from a lightning strike, a radioactive Canopian cuttlefish, and a misplaced ham sandwich. My intimate knowledge of the inner life of fabric has made me a sought-after designer, but alas, my lack of muscles and skeletal infrastructure makes it extremely difficult for me to get around.”

“Cool,” said Zaphod. “But what does that have to do with us? More precisely, with him?” He pointed a thumb at Dieter, who was still trying to decide if this was part of the trip or if reality had shifted way more than usual.

“It has always been my dream, even before I gained sentience, to be a Leisure Suit,” Balthazar said. “A noble purpose of a member of the polyester tribe. And the finest leisure suits have long been known to be those created in the seventh decade of the twentieth century on the planet Earth. This person is an Earthman, and he would be a worthy frame to carry me into the galaxy.”

Dieter blinked. “Wait, you want me to wear you?” He thought about it. It was kinky, but was it the kind of kink he enjoyed? 

“Yes,” Balthazar said. “I am willing to pay the asking price for your services, as well as a retainer, food and drink, and sleeping accommodations. In exchange, you will transport me wherever I need to go.”

“Room, board and an allowance,” Dieter mused. “I’m listening.”

Arthur was indignant. “But … but that’s insane.”

“Hey, man, it’s no worse than what I’ve been doing,” Dieter pointed out. “I’m an actor. I wear what they tell me, I stand where they tell me, I say what they tell me. In exchange, I get money and fame, which gets me food and booze and drugs and sex. This deal’s not much different. In fact, it might be better, because Balthazar here will do all the talking. I just have to stand there and look good. I’m really good at that.”

“But a leisure suit? A polyester leisure suit?” Arthur looked perplexed. 

“Best of both worlds, dude,” Dieter replied. “It’s a suit, but it’s casual. No tie.” He turned to Balthazar. “I still get to wear my Crocs, right? ‘Cause that’s a deal breaker.”

“Your footwear is your own concern,” Balthazar said. “After all, I want my conveyance to be comfortable. And of course you can wear whatever you like — or nothing at all — at night when we are both resting from the cares of the day.”

“Where do I sign?”

Balthazar shivered and a psychedelic pattern of purple, yellow and blue dots shimmered over his surface. “Whoa!,” said Zaphod. “How’d you do that?”

Balthazar returned to his previous shade of shocking orange. “I told you a cuttlefish was involved in my transformation from mere fabric to sentience. It takes some energy and concentration, but I can change my pigmentation at will.”

“Awesome,” Dieter said. “So, like, a mood suit.” He got a series of blank stares. “You know, like a mood ring? Where the hell were you people in the seventies?”

Arthur blinked. “Oh, yes, that’s right.” He turned to the others and began to explain. “A mood ring was a trinket that changed colors depending on temperature. It was supposed to show the mood of the wearer …” 

Here Zaphod cut him off with a wave of two hands. “Yeah, whatever. The main thing is, do I get my finder’s fee?”

“Of course,” said Balthazar. “Margot will write you a check. Margot!”

The young lavender-haired lady came back into the room, with a stack of papers and a large silver and turquoise pen. “I have everything ready, Balthazar,” she said, delicately sliding a portion of him over to clear room on the table for her work. “Excuse me, sir,” she said, flushing slightly, her hands trembling a little. Dieter didn’t really notice, because he was busy checking out her ass. Yeah, maybe he wouldn’t have to settle for Arthur after all, although the idea of what Zaphod could do with two heads and three arms still intrigued him …

********************************************

Arthur was pouting. He was still angry at Zaphod for interrupting his explanation of the mood ring, and even angrier at Ford and Trillian for trying to convince him to trade in his pajamas and dressing gown (which were very comfortable and still smelled like Earth) for something more “fashionable.” Now they were back at the House of Balthazar to say goodbye to Dieter.

“Don’t know why I had to come,” complained Marvin, the android. “Brain the size of a planet and they ask me to attend a farewell party for some apeman.”

“Shut up, Marvin,” Arthur snapped. 

“Shut up, Arthur,” said Ford.

Margot greeted them at the door. She was wearing a purple mini skirt with a black leather vest over a lavender blouse. “Welcome to the House of Balthazar,” she said. 

“And Dieter,” said Dieter, who was standing behind her in a shocking orange leisure suit over a purple and white patterned shirt. He had one hand on his hip, striking a dramatic pose.

“Yes, and Dieter,” agreed Balthazar, using the breast pocket of the suit as a mouth. “I must say, the freedom I have experienced since joining forces with Dieter has been delightful.”

As Margot left the waiting room to fetch a tray of drinks, Dieter peered over the tops of his sunglasses. “And the amount of sex I’ve been experiencing is also delightful,” he said. “Get this … Margot has a thing for Balthazar. Always has. So she lets me bang her, as long as I wear the jacket.”

“That’s … interesting,” said Arthur.

Dieter nodded. “And the best part is, Balthazar is ace and I’m bi, so from a distance it looks straight but it’s really queer as fuck. I mean, is there even a word for someone who’s attracted to polyester?”

“Polysexual?,” said Zaphod.

Dieter laughed. “Yeah, I like it. Ace plus bi plus poly equals good times for me.”

“It amuses him,” said Balthazar, “and brings joy to dear Margot, who has worked for me all these years without uttering a word about her feelings toward me. I am quite fond of her, in my way.”

“So, all’s well that ends well, I guess,” said Ford, as Margot returned with actual champagne this time. He clapped Arthur on the shoulder. “Sure you don’t want anything before we leave the planet, mate? Maybe some nice trousers or a sport coat?”

“Balthy can whip you up something,” Dieter said. “On the house.”

Both Balthazar and Margot quickly shushed him. “For a generous discount,” Margot said firmly. Dieter shrugged and tossed back another glass of champagne. 

“No, I’m fine,” Arthur said. “Although I could use a decent cup of tea.”

Everyone laughed as though he’d told a hilarious joke, but as usual, Arthur was dead serious. Really, who could honestly joke about tea?

[thrailkxll]

As this.. certain mech approached, so did some background of earthly Elden Ring music.

"GREETINGS, FELLOW TRAVELER. I ASK FOR PERMISSION TO LAY MY BEING UPON YOUR TERRITORY AND PERHAPS JOIN YOU IN YOUR FEAST!"

"Well howdy!" Thrailkill beams waving his ladle. This feller has theme music! It's probably a good thing Thrail doesn't, you know what they say about hearing banjos. "Pop a squat, have a sip n' a swaller!" Thrailkill pats a stump next to the fire that was simmering his pot of gumbo. He's quick to fill the knight a bowl, then hand it over with a hefty spoon.

A large glass full of clear liquid was handed to him as well. One might think it was water, but they'll certainly figure out its moonshine in one sip. "I got some beignets cookin' too you's finish yer bowls." He waggles a claw at him.

[themattress]

The Top 25 Greatest Video Game Villains, as selected by me.

In order: Ganondorf Dragmire / Ganon (The Legend of Zelda series), Majora (The Legend of Zelda series), Chaos (Final Fantasy series), Kefka Palazzo (Final Fantasy series), Sephiroth (Final Fantasy series), Bowser (Super Mario series), Dr. Ivo Robotnik / Dr. Eggman (Sonic the Hedgehog series), Ridley (Metroid series), Andross (Star Fox series), Xemnas (Kingdom Hearts series), Gruntilda Winkybunion (Banjo-Kazooie series), Giovanni (Pokémon series), M. Bison (Street Fighter series), Hades (Kid Icarus series), Pokey Minch (Mother series), Liquid Snake (Metal Gear series), Handsome Jack (Borderlands series), Count Dracula (Castlevania series), GLADOS (Portal series), Monokuma (Danganronpa series), Dutch Van Der Linde (Red Dead series), Haytham Kenway (Assassin’s Creed series), Pyramid Head (Silent Hill series), Alduin (The Elder Scrolls series), and Lord Gwyn (Dark Souls series).

Honorable Mention: These wacky guys (Super Smash Bros. series).

If there’s anyone you feel deserves a spot in this category, let me know in reblogs.

....But you’re not allowed to bring up King Dedede. I refuse to accept this guy as a villain:

[cannondisabledcharacters]

Today's disabled character of the day is Captain Blackeye from Banjo Kazooie, who is visually impaired

Requested by Anon

[Image Description: 3D model of a man leaning on the ground holding a bubbling glass of some sort of liquid in his right hand. He is wearing a long red jack, black striped white pants, a black bicorne hat with a two white swords crossing printed on the front, brown belt, yellow ascot, and a black eye patch over his right eye. He has short black hair and his left eye is from. He has a grey 5 o'clock shadow and is blushing green.]

[brookstonalmanac]

Birthdays 9.4

Beer Birthdays

Samuel Simon Loeb (1862)

William Hamm, Jr. (1893)

Ken Weaver (1983)

Five Favorite Birthdays

Anton Bruckner; Austrian composer (1824)

Whitney Cummings; comedian (1982)

Candy Loving; Playboy playmate 1/79 (1956)

Darius Milhaud; French composer (1892)

Ione Skye; English-American actress (1971)

Famous Birthdays

Joan Aiken; English author (1924)

Al-Biruni; Persian physician and polymath (973)

Carl Heinrich Biber; Austrian composer (1681)

Janet Biehl; philosopher (1953)

Daniel Burnham; architect (1846)

Martin Chambers; English drummer and singer (1951)

Craig Claiborne; journalist, author (1920)

Darryl Cotton; Australian singer-songwriter and guitarist (1949)

Francois Rene de Chateaubriand; French writer (1776)

Max Delbrück; German-American biophysicist (1906)

Edward Dmytryk; film director (1908)

Gary Duncan; rock guitarist (1946)

Danny Gatton; guitarist (1945)

Mitzi Gaynor; actor, dancer (1931)

Clive Granger, Welsh-American economist (1934)

George William Gray, British chemist, creator of liquid crystals (1926)

Max Greenfield; actor (1980)

Kevin Harrington; Australian actor (1959)

Paul Harvey; radio journalist (1918)

Jacqueline Hewitt; astrophysicist and astronomer (1958)

Syd Hoff; author and illustrator (1912)

Constantijn Huygens; Dutch poet and composer (1596)

Beyoncé Knowles; pop singer (1981)

Lewis Howard Latimer; inventor (1848)

Alexander Liberman, Russian-American artist (1912)

Dave Liebman; saxophonist (1946)

Donald McKay; shipbuilder (1810)

Kyle Mooney; comedian (1984)

Albert Joseph Moore; English artist (1841)

Stanford Moore; biochemist (1913)

Howard Morris; comedian (1919)

Gene Parsons; singer-songwriter, guitarist, and banjo player (1944)

George Percy; English explorer (1580)

Mike Piazza; New York Mets C (1968)

Drew Pinsky; radio and television host (1958)

Mary Renault; English writer (1905)

Oskar Schlemmer; German artist (1888)

Hanna Schwamborn; German actress (1992)

Jan Švankmajer; Czech filmmaker (1934)

Kim Thayil; guitarist and songwriter (1960)

Tom Watson; golfer (1949)

Damon Wayans; actor, comedian (1960)

Dallas Willard; philosopher (1935)

Gerald Wilson; trumpet player (1918)

Richard Wright; writer (1908)

Shinya Yamanaka; Japanese biologist (1962)

Dick York; actor (1928)

Bobby Jarzombek; drummer (1963)

[troutwithfur]

actually no wet is a descriptor of a solid surface with a thin layer of water coating it. As water in a liquid, water itself cannot be wet. If you touch water, your hand gets wet, but the water remains simply as water, neither wet nor dry. anyways yeah u should polycule with banjo & kazooie that would be so awesome

Why does the pink haired bear oc look like she’d polycule with banjo and kazooie?

thank you for one of the actual best asks i've ever received

[fullmoonrock]

"Whaddya mean 'why don't I break it'?! It's a musical instrument." His grip on the offending instrument tightened slightly, the banjo complaining slightly under his grasp until he loosens his fingers, allowing the instrument to breathe.

The ice in his soda clinks together as it melts, shifting the liquid as he continues: "It's just not rock, ya know?"

"'Sides, they took my guitar. I'm gonna kick the shit outta whoever took it!" The woman with the twintails sat next to him, seeming to listen pretty well. Not that he'd notice entirely.

@everydayisanight

[lathegod]

Tips for Wood Lathe Electrical Bits Maintenance in 2024

To maintain your wood lathe's electrical components, start by regularly checking power cords and plugs, machine parts, wiring board, machine tool, and locking screw for any damage and replace them if necessary. Keep the power cord, wiring board, and metal surfaces clean and free from dust and debris. Use a surge protector to protect against power fluctuations. Follow the manufacturer's recommendations for motor lubrication, cooling, and paste wax on metal surfaces. Ensure that the on/off switch, wiring board, power cord, and click button function correctly, and if you notice any issues or anomalies in the electrical system or areas, consult a professional electrician for repairs. Proper electrical maintenance, including checking the wiring board, power cord, and areas, is essential for your wood lathe's safe and efficient operation. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R4uFWgthYBo&pp=ygUmV29vZCBMYXRoZSBFbGVjdHJpY2FsIEJpdHMgTWFpbnRlbmFuY2U

Daily Wood Lathe Maintenance Routine

Cleaning and Dust Removal To maintain wood lathe electrical bits, start with a daily cleaning routine that includes the wiring board, direction, low speed, and center sleeve. Use a clean, dry cloth to remove dust or wood shavings from the electrical components. Avoid using water or liquid cleaners as they can damage the sensitive parts. Regular cleaning helps prevent dust buildup, which can lead to overheating and potential electrical issues. It also ensures that the components function optimally and extend their lifespan by solving any resistance problems. I continuously remove any accumulated debris around the motor housing and power switch, preventing potential hazards and keeping the machine running smoothly. Inspection of Components Inspecting wood lathe electrical bits is crucial for identifying signs of wear or damage and finding a solution. Check for loose connections, frayed wires, worn-out insulation, case, problem, or solution on cables. Tighten any loose screws or bolts to ensure everything stays securely in place. Monitoring these components daily allows you to catch minor issues before they escalate into major problems. This proactive approach saves time and money by preventing costly repairs down the line and addressing the problem. I find it helpful to visually inspect all visible wiring for signs of wear regularly. This simple habit has allowed me to detect and address minor issues promptly. Tightening Fasteners It is tightening fasteners such as screws, nuts, bolts, and electrical bits are an essential part of maintaining a good lathe. Vibration during operation can cause these fasteners to loosen over time, so it's necessary to check them daily. Properly tightening all fasteners in the case ensures stability during use while reducing the risk of malfunctions due to loose parts. I've found that creating a checklist for tightening specific fasteners around my wood lathe case has made this task more organized and efficient.

Quarterly Wood Lathe Maintenance Checklist

Lubrication Wood lathe electrical bits maintenance includes regular lubrication to ensure smooth operation. To prevent friction and wear, apply a few drops of lubricating oil to the moving parts, such as the tailstock and tool rest banjo. This simple task helps extend the lifespan of your wood lathe's components. Regular lubrication also contributes to maintaining the overall performance of your wood lathe. It prevents unnecessary strain on the motor and ensures the parts move freely without resistance. It minimizes the risk of overheating due to excessive friction during operation. Belt Tension Adjustment Adjusting belt tension is another crucial aspect of wood lathe electrical bits maintenance. Over time, belts may stretch or wear out, affecting their ability to transfer power efficiently. By regularly checking and adjusting belt tension, you can maintain optimal performance and prevent potential issues with motor function. Properly adjusted belt tension ensures power is transmitted effectively from the motor to the spindle, allowing free control over turning speed. This enhances the quality of your woodworking projects and reduces strain on the engine and belts. In my Experience, following a quarterly maintenance checklist for my wood lathe has significantly improved its longevity and performance. Regularly attending to tasks like lubrication and belt tension adjustment has helped me avoid major issues down the line while ensuring smooth operation during every woodworking session.

Safely Using a Wood Lathe Machine

Importance of Safety Measures When operating a wood lathe machine, it is crucial to prioritize safety. Wearing appropriate protective gear, such as safety goggles and ear protection, is essential to prevent accidents and injuries. Ensuring that loose clothing or jewelry is secured can avoid entanglement with the rotating parts of the lathe. Maintaining a clutter-free work area around the machine tool is also essential. This prevents obstacles that could cause tripping or interference while working with wood. Always double-check that the wood piece is securely fastened before turning on the lathe to avoid potential hazards. Safe Practices for Accident Prevention Adhering to safe practices when using a wood lathe can significantly reduce the risk of accidents. Before starting any project, inspecting the condition of electrical bits and cords ensures they are free from damage or wear. This inspection helps mitigate potential electrical hazards during operation. Proper training and familiarization with the specific wood lathe model are critical for safe usage. Understanding how to adjust speed settings, change chucks, and secure workpieces effectively contributes to accident prevention. Personal Experience: I wear my safety goggles when operating a wood lathe machine because small wood chips tend to fly off when turning. My mentor emphasized the importance of keeping my workspace organized and clutter-free using a wood lathe. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I4-5CxyW1Cw&pp=ygUqQ2xlYW5pbmcgRHVzdCBhbmQgRGVicmlzIGZyb20gYSBXb29kIExhdGhl

Cleaning Dust and Debris from a Wood Lathe

Suitable Tools You will need suitable tools to effectively clean dust and debris from a wood lathe machine. A soft-bristled brush is ideal for gently sweeping away loose dust without scratching the metal surfaces of the lathe. An air compressor or vacuum with a small nozzle attachment can help remove debris from hard-to-reach areas. When cleaning green wood shavings and sawdust from your lathe, it's essential to use tools that won't damage the machine's delicate components. For example, using a metal scraper may scratch the metal surfaces of your lathe, leading to potential issues down the line. Thorough Cleaning Techniques Thoroughly cleaning your wood lathe involves more than just removing visible dust and debris. Pay attention to all parts of the machine, including crevices where buildup can occur. Begin by unplugging the lathe, and then use a soft brush or compressed air to remove loose particles. Once you've cleared away surface dust and debris, consider using a damp cloth or sponge with mild soap to wipe down any remaining residue on non-metal parts. Be sure not to oversaturate these areas, as excessive moisture can lead to rusting on metal components. Taking extra care when cleaning my wood lathe ensures its optimal performance and extends its lifespan. By incorporating regular maintenance into my woodworking routine, I've prevented clogging issues and maintained consistent precision in my projects.

Lubricating Rails on a Wood Lathe

Importance of Lubricating Rails Lubricating the rails on a wood lathe is crucial for ensuring smooth operation. Proper lubrication reduces friction between the moving parts, preventing wear and tear. This not only keeps the machine running smoothly but also extends its lifespan. Applying suitable lubricants such as paste wax or specialized bed rail lubricants is essential. These lubricants are designed to withstand the pressures and movements involved in woodturning. They provide a protective layer that minimizes metal-to-metal contact, reducing heat buildup and potential damage to the lathe's components. Methods for Applying Lubricants It's essential to follow specific methods for optimal results. First, ensure that the locking screws are loosened before applying any lubricant. Then, using a clean cloth or applicator, apply a thin layer of paste wax or specialized bed rail lubricant along the length of each rail. After application, move the tailstock and tool rest along the rails several times to distribute the lubricant evenly across their surfaces. Finally, wipe off any excess product with a clean cloth to prevent buildup that could interfere with woodturning operations. Maintaining my wood lathe with these tips has significantly improved its performance and durability. I've avoided unnecessary wear on my machine by incorporating proper maintenance routines like regular lubrication into my woodworking practices while enjoying consistently smoother turning experiences.

Critical Points for Effective Wood Lathe Maintenance

Regular Inspection Regularly inspect electrical bits to ensure they are free from dust, debris, and any signs of wear. Dust and debris can cause electrical connections to weaken or fail, leading to potential safety hazards. Look out for loose wires or frayed insulation that may indicate the need for immediate attention. It's essential to keep a keen eye on the condition of the electrical bits. Also, check for any signs of overheating, such as discoloration or melting around the terminals. This proactive approach can help prevent unexpected breakdowns and maintain a safe working environment. Thorough Cleaning Thoroughly clean the electrical bits using a soft brush or compressed air to remove accumulated dust and wood shavings. Ensure the components are dehydrated before reassembling them back onto the lathe. This practice not only extends the lifespan of your equipment but also reduces the risk of electrical malfunctions due to contamination. When cleaning, pay close attention to contact points and terminals where buildup is most likely. Keeping these areas clean minimizes the chances of poor conductivity ,which could lead to operational issues later. Establishing a Maintenance Schedule A regular maintenance schedule ensures consistent performance from your wood lathe's electrical components. Create a calendar reminder or set specific monthly dates dedicated solely to checking and maintaining electrical bits. Consistency is vital in preventing avoidable failures that could disrupt your woodworking projects.

Basics: The Structure of a Wood Lathe Machine

Components Overview A wood lathe machine comprises several marts that work together to create intricate wood designs. The main components include the headstock, tailstock, tool rest, and bed. The headstock houses the motor and spindle responsible for rotating the wood piece. On the other hand, the tailstock supports and stabilizes the opposite end of the wood blank during turning. The output torque generated by these components determines how effectively they can handle various woodworking tasks. For instance, higher output torque enables smoother rotation of more significant or denser wood pieces while maintaining precision. Understanding each part's role is crucial in comprehending how electrical bits fit into this structure. Functions and Roles The electrical bits in a wood lathe machine play a vital role in controlling its speed and power delivery. These bits are connected to an electric motor within the headstock, allowing for precise adjustments to rotational speed based on different woodworking requirements. When I first started using a wood lathe machine, understanding these functions helped me maintain my equipment better. Properly cleaning and lubricating electrical connections ensured consistent performance over time. Exploring these functions provides valuable insights into how each component contributes to operational efficiency.

Importance of Regular Maintenance for Wood Lathes

Importance of Regular Maintenance Regular maintenance is crucial for keeping wood lathes in optimal condition. Neglecting maintenance can result in costly repairs or even the need for a complete replacement. BRegularly maintaining the electrical bits can prevent issues and ensure smooth operation. A well-maintained wood lathe machine will have an extended lifespan compared to a neglected one. Proper care and attention to the electrical bits can significantly reduce wear and tear, ultimately saving time and money on replacements or significant repairs. It's important to remember that neglecting maintenance affects the performance of the wood lathe and the quality of your woodworking projects. For example, failing to maintain electrical bits could lead to uneven cuts or rough finishes on turned pieces. Best Practices for Electrical Bits Maintenance Several best practices should be followed. Regular cleaning is essential to remove any built-up dust, debris, or wood shavings that could affect performance. Inspecting the electrical connections and wiring for signs of wear or damage is crucial. Any frayed wires or loose connections should be addressed immediately to prevent potential safety hazards while operating the wood lathe machine. Personal Experience: Setting a regular maintenance schedule helps me effectively care for my wood lathe's electrical bits without forgetting important tasks.

Conclusion

To keep a wood lathe machine working well and lasting long, it's essential to take care of the electrical parts. Understand how the machine is built, stick to a regular maintenance routine, and prioritize safety by cleaning out dust and debris and lubricating the rails. Maintenance guidelines are all essential for keeping the wood lathe in good shape. If you want your wood lathe machine to keep working well, it's crucial to have a thorough maintenance plan. Regular inspections and proactive care will help the machine last longer and work more accurately. By following these practices, woodworkers can avoid expensive repairs or replacements and keep making high-quality projects.

Frequently Asked Questions

What are the critical components of a wood lathe machine? The main components of a wood lathe machine include the headstock, tailstock, tool rest, bed, and motor. Each element plays a crucial role in shaping and turning wood. How often should I perform daily maintenance on my wood lathe? Daily maintenance for your wood lathe is essential to ensure optimal performance. Inspecting and cleaning the electrical bits and other parts daily before and after use is recommended. Is it necessary to lubricate the rails on a wood lathe? Yes, lubricating the rails on a wood lathe is crucial for smooth operation. Use an appropriate lubricant recommended by the manufacturer to prevent friction and ensure consistent movement along the rails. What safety measures should be taken when using a wood lathe machine? When operating a wood lathe machine, always wear eye protection, avoid loose clothing or jewelry that may get caught in moving parts, secure workpieces properly, and keep your hands clear of rotating elements at all times. Why is regularly cleaning dust and debris from a wood lathe is essential? Regular cleaning of dust and debris from your wood lathe prevents potential damage to electrical components while maintaining overall performance. Accumulated dust can lead to overheating or affect precision during operation. Read the full article