#dr seuss is dead

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Dr. Seuss | Charles Rowland, Dead Boy Detectives (2024)

@charles-rowland-week Day 1: Brawn

[glamboyl]

Happy Halloween! 🎃👻🍂🍁🦇🎃👻🍂🍁🦇🎃👻

[lunahallowell]

My fiancée and I camped out in the living room last night just because. And I woke up to him letting the dog out at 7am. I can’t remember what he was saying to me, but with my eyes still closed, I said:

“Do you wanna hear something really weird?”

“Sure.”

“I dreamt about Grinch lore. The Grinch stopped Christmas from happening by controlling the wind and snow. He made a blizzard so bad that it stopped Santa Claus from coming, and it ruined Christmas. No one got gifts.”

Fiancée, not even batting an eye, “So the Grinch is an ice elemental.”

“YES, EXACTLY!!!!”

And then I fell back asleep.

[shipsgaysfordays]

Once’d day more

‘Once other day ‘once other destiny, this never ending road to thneedery, these who’s who seem to know my crime will surely come a second time

Once’d day more

I did not live until once’d day

Once’d day more

How can I live when thneed are parted?

Once’d day more

Tomorrow you’ll be worlds away, and yet with who my world has started

Once’d more day all on my own

Will we ever meet again?

Once’d more day of them not caring (about the environment)

I was born to be with who

But he only saw thneed there

But the lorax comes at night, but the lorax comes at night, with his voice as soft as thunder, as he tears your business apart, as he turns your dream to shame

[zapbang]

This is nothing out of the ordinary for me ....last week the street lights put on a really good show for me and luckily my neighbour was with me and started filming. The street lights began turning on and off the moment I left my unit block and continued the entire walk down to the beach. Happens so often that coincidence is becoming a hard explaintion to accept.b

[chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct]

So, project 2025 has been deleting their PDFs but a few lovely people have posted the list of books they want to ban and other than the fact that the entire list is stupid, here's some that stuck out to me + the reasons listed next to them. Most of the books on the list are lgbtq+ books which one would expect to find there, so I just did ones I didn't expect.

The Holy Bible - Challenged for religious beliefs and graphic content.

A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin - Sexual violence, political intrigue.

Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson - Death and religious content.

Captain Underpants series by Dav Pilkey - Toilet humor and "disobedience."

Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak - Critique of the Russian Revolution.

Deadly Deceits by Ralph McGehee - Former CIA agent's critiques of the agency.

Emma by Jane Austen - Complex gender themes, social critique.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury - Censorship and media manipulation by the government.

Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling - Accusations of promoting witchcraft.

Howl by Allen Ginsberg - Explicit sexual content, anti-establishment themes

Hop on Pop by Dr. Seuss - Concerns over violence against parents.

I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter by Erika L. Sánchez - Mental health, sexual content.

It's Perfectly Normal by Robie H. Harris - Sex education content.

It's So Amazing! by Robie H. Harris - Sex education content.

None Dare Call It Conspiracy by Gary Allen - Discusses alleged hidden global power structure.

None Dare Call It Treason by John A. Stormer - Anti-communist and conspiracy-focused.

One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn - Critique of Soviet labor camps.

Operation Paperclip by Annie Jacobsen - Exposes secret U.S. program involving former Nazis.

My Brother Sam Is Dead by James Lincoln Collier - Violence, anti-war themes.

Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt vonnegut- Anti-war themes.

Spycatcher by Peter Wright - Ex-MI5 agent's account of intelligence operations.

The Art of Happiness by the Dalai Lama - Criticism of religion, perceived political messages.

The Awakening by Kate Chopin - Female independence, sexuality.

The Book of Night Women by Marlon James - Slavery, graphic violence.

The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede - Magic, feminism.

The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein - Themes of selfishness, parenting.

The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy - Examines class and caste issues in India.

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood - Critique of religious extremism and patriarchy.

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas - Examines police violence and racial injustice

The Hunger Games Series by Suzanne Collins - Depicts oppressive government and rebellion.

The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster - Political subtext, wordplay.

The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver - Critique of colonialism and missionary work.

The Power and the Glory by Graham Greene - Critique of religion and political oppression

The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle - Religious critique.

The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli - Seen as a critique of political ethics.

The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare - Often challenged for themes of submission of women in marriage.

Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer - Themes of violence, supernatural elements.

V for Vendetta by Alan Moore - Political rebellion, violence.

War is a Racket by Smedley D. Butler - Critique of war profiteering.

Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein - Dark humor, "rebellious" themes.

Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak - Themes of rebellion, dark imagery.

Where's Waldo? by Martin Handford - Alleged inappropriate illustrations.

White Noise by Don DeLillo - Critique of consumerism and modern society.

Women Who Run with the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes - Feminist themes.

Yertle the Turtle by Dr. Seuss - Seen as political allegory.

Zorba the Greek by Nikos Kazantzakis - Critique of authority and societal norms.

[not-maggie]

Hypothetically, Of Course

A/N: umm, so hi! this is my first ever fic I've written but I do read a lot lmao. I was using a c.ai bot and it inspired me to write this because it was really cute! <3 this is lowkey a self ship bc I'm tired of seeing Y/N's who don't have a personality and are shy. nothing wrong with being shy ofc <3 just not who I am and I needed some self indulging. Anyway, enjoy! any criticism/comments are greatly appreciated!! (GIF not mine<3)

It was a cool afternoon in Stars Hallow, the dead leaves falling to the ground as the breeze shook them from branches. The bell above the door rings out as Y/N enters Luke's Diner, catching the attention of a certain brunette behind the counter.

Jess feels his heart stutter as she enters, silently cursing himself for having such a reaction. He throws on his signature smirk as she approaches the counter, "Hey, the usual?"

Y/N nods with a soft laugh, "I come here too often if you know it by now." She takes a seat on one of the stool as Jess begins preparing her order. "So, anything interesting happen today?" she asks, making conversation.

"Oh, y'know, annoying customers, Luke yelling at me for not working, the usual." Jess hums, turning his head to look over his shoulder at her. "What about you?"

Y/N lets out a scoff as she responds, "Y'know Brad, the quarterback on the football team? Total douche, anyway, had the audacity to ask me out, while I was in the middle of studying in the library. And, on top of that, got mad when I rejected him. Said something about winning a bet, total bullshit." She rolls her eyes, leaning against the counter.

Jess feels his blood boil, a bet? A bet to ask 𝘺𝘰𝘶 out? He takes a moment to collect himself before turning around and responding, placing her coffee down in front of her, "Wow, total dick move. A bet? What kind of bet? If he could get in your pants?"

Y/N rolls her eyes, "Don't know, and honestly, don't really care. I get the satisfaction of knowing he didn't win, whatever it was. Like I would ever go out with him," she scoffs.

Jess leans his arms against the counter, "Not your type?" His tone is teasing, his usual snark coming out, but there's a hint of genuine curiosity.

Y/N lets out a snort of amusement, "No, I would never go for a football player, or really any athlete. Anyone who doesn't know Austen is not worth it."

Jess raises an eyebrow, "Got high standards," he teases. "So, what, is, your type?" He asks, his head resting on his palm in a casual manner.

Y/N lets out a hum as she thinks, planning her answer. "Well, looks don't really matter that much. More into personality, someone who can keep up with my sarcasm. Funny, making me laugh is really important, and there's no way I can be funnier than my partner, that's a sad life. Well-read, I'm talking more than just Dr. Seuss and the Outsiders. Someone...spontaneous, impulsive, acts before thinking; adds fun to life. And, someone who isn't afraid to show me off, not saying we have to make out in town square, but hand holding, stolen kisses, stuff like that."

Jess's heart flutters as he hears her words, that's him. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. "So," he tries to maintain his casual, aloof appearance, "You got a guy in mind? That all seems pretty specific."

Y/N smirks at his words, "Maybe, it's kind of hard to find someone like that in this small town. You either get guys like Brad, high school has-been's, or Dean Forester. Perfect Dean Forester, although I guess technically he did move here from Chicago. But he has the 'Small Town Boy' act down."

Jess chuckles softly at her words, she was right, Dean did have that Small Town act perfected down to a science. "So, if there we're to be a guy, who matched this description, would he have shot with you, hypothetically of course."

Y/N grins, picking up what Jess was hinting at. "I'd say, hypothetically, if this guy we're to ask me out, or confess his undying love for me, I wouldn't shoot him down."

Jess straightens out, hip pushed against the counter as he leans in a bit. "So if this guy were to, hypothetically, say that he likes you and have for a while, you'd go out with him?"

"Yes, I would, but only if he told me directly." Y/N challenges Jess, knowing that he isn't big on sharing his feelings.

Jess stands up straight behind the counter as he meets Y/N's gaze, he takes a moment before talking. "I like you, have for a while." He runs a hand through his messy hair, "In fact, you drive me crazy. There isn't a moment when your'e not invading my brain, very distracting."

Y/N's smile grows as she hears him talk, "Well, I like you too. Just, don't start charging me rent for living in your head." She pokes his forehead as she teases him.

Jess laughs, 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘴, at her words. "I'll let you live rent-free on one condition, be mine? God, that sounds gross and sappy." He groans at his words and how cliche he sounds.

Y/N let out a laugh, "Yes, I'll be yours." She smiles, "Bad boy Jess has gone soft."

Jess rolls his eyes but a smile tugs at his lips, "Shut up, I'm not soft....Okay maybe, but only for you and around you. And if you tell anyone..." He doesn't finish the threat, but they both know there isn't any actual heat behind it.

"Yeah, yeah." Y/N rolls her eyes, "Your secret is safe with me." She crosses her heart with a smile.

"Good," Jess hums with a small smile. "So, your mine now, huh?" He grabs her hand from across the counter, thumb rubbing across the back of her hand as their fingers interlock.

"Yeah," Y/N smiles softly, squeezing his hand. "All yours"

Jess's smile widens at her words, "That's right, all mine" He brings her hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "Mine to protect," he locks eyes with Y/N. "Mine to love, mine to cherish..." He leans in further over the counter, "Mine to hold, mine to care for..." His eyes sweep over her face, taking in every detail and memorizing them. "Mine to spoil," he reaches his free hand to cup her cheek, thumb running across her skin. "Mine to be with...and mine to love, forever." He closes the distance between the two, his lips meeting hers in a soft, tender kiss, expressing unspoken thoughts and emotions.

As he kisses her, he feels a sense of peace wash over him. He feels complete, whole. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, but right now, he knows deep in his heart that he means ever word he said.

He loves Y/N.

And he's never letting her go.

"That's the sappiest thing you've ever said."

[cmdrfupa]

Tend to me

Barkeep!Nanami x Salarywomxn!Reader

“That's what I do. I drink and I know things.”

a/n did this come from talking in a server about how post college Nanami needs a job and simping over how hot he’d be with his sleeves rolled up? You bet your ass it did. Thank you Court and Nana for your beautiful brains 🩵💜

MDNI +19

Five rejection emails, no callbacks, and his interview today turned into a scene from a novela after the receptionist barged into the boss's office, exclaiming that she was pregnant. All in the span of one week.

Kento pressed his forehead to the linoleum. table as he groaned.  

“Don't give up! It's like, 10,000 other bank jobs! You'll get one.” Haibara squeezed Kento’s shoulder as he watched his form slump into itself. 

"Yu, it seems like I’ve been turned down for 10,000 jobs. At this rate, I’ll have better luck getting a job as a cab driver.”

“But you don't have a car—”

“Shhhhhh.” Kento turned his head to the side, still keeping it on the table and looking at Yu. 

He knew Yu was trying to help, but it’d be more helpful if he didn't speak.

"Look, Ken. If nothing else comes up, I can talk to my boss to get you hired.” Yu stuffed the last of his tuna onigiri in his mouth, smiling as he attempted to cheer his roommate up. “You won't have my role as a trainer, but you could be one of the guys who clean off the sweaty machines! Pays pretty decent.” 

Clearing his throat, Kento sat up, eyes still closed before he spoke up. 

“Yu.”

“Yeah?” His big brown eyes were only filled with genuine care; Kento looked over at him and sighed.

“Thank you. I'll let you know if I need you to do that.

 Yu gave a toothy grin as he gave Kento a swift pat on the back. “It's all gonna be okay! Just breathe.”

Kento stood with a wry smile. “Thanks. I'm gonna go for a walk. Clear my mind a bit. See you tonight.”

The stroll served its purpose. It reminded Kento he wasn't a poor interviewer, nor did he lack the gusto. The job market was over-saturated and relied heavily on personal connections; Kento did not know a soul in the finance world. 

He stopped; a ‘Now hiring, Inquire within’ sign on a heavily tinted window caught his eye while Gojo watched him from the other end of the FaceTime call.

“Where does that leave you now?”

 “Well, I’ll get some experience in the meantime, become a math teacher or tutor while I look for something more sustainable.” 

"You? A teacher? Nanamin, don’t make me laugh.” Gojo propped his phone up, “You’ll have the students' brains bleeding out if you do that. Think of the children, Ken-doll.” 

Kento rolled his eyes and watched Gojo clean his desk. Literary motifs littered the wall behind Gojo. A large poster of Yevgeny Zamyatin hung in the center. “Math isn't supposed to be fun anyway. It's not teaching Dr. Seuss. It teaches objective truths and concepts.” 

Gojo feigned a yawn. “Wherever there is objective truth, there is satire.”

“That’s not how Wyndham Lewis meant it.”

“You don't know that! He's dead. It's all about interpretation.”

“I’m hanging up now. Gojo. Goodbye.”

Gojo smiled. “I can pull some strings and see if Yaga has a spot in the math department.” he nabbed his phone, seemingly prepping to leave his classroom. 

“And remember dinner this weekend! See you Nanamin!” he blew a kiss into the phone pushing Kento to immediately hang up. 

Kento looked back at the building. The 3-story building had hints of older Japanese architecture with European accents. 

"The Zenith" was carved into a wooden pillar adjacent to the entry, with a simple design. 

“I can just see what they're hiring for. No harm in that.”

The bar inside was the epitome of luxury and sophistication, designed to impress the city’s most discerning clientele. In the hotel's heart, Kento felt out of place. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed breathtaking views of the Tokyo skyline. He waited for the hiring manager to end her dumbfounded stare. 

“So no previous barkeeping history, no customer service work, and no idea how to run a till.” The dark-haired woman named Utahime looked up at Kento. “What qualifications do you have?” 

Smoothing his hair back to think of what he could say to seem qualified, he looked around the room. Older individuals who appear established. Business-minded. 

An older woman, in a meeting, smiling at the blonde-haired man. An older man was on a call. His younger companion crossed her legs and batted her lashes as Kento scanned. 

"I could boost revenue and upsell your best bottles to those who don't care about the price."

“Mr. Nanami. How could you do that? Most of our clientele just order one drink and maybe a listening ear.” 

There were a lot of things Kento lacked but looks were never one of them. The gift of having the perfect genetics made academics a breeze. But, it was now time to use his good looks and gift of gab, inherited from his grandfather. 

“I learn quick. Hire me today and I’ll have every stool filled and the register overfilled in 7 days. I guarantee.” 

Polished, calm, and precise. Nanami excelled behind the bar, his steady hands mixing drinks for the city’s elite. With his sleeves rolled, he perfected the craft of keeping up with mundane conversations mid-shake. His bulging veins, as he held the shaker, made every woman calculate their tip before he served their martinis.  Muscles flexed when he noticed some of the older men who could care less about the young women in cocktail dresses attempting to be mysterious and wanted to know if the blonde keep could do more than be heavy-handed on the gin. 

He was the bar's eye candy, something they should've thought about hiring months ago. 

It's a world where he realized he can control every variable, crafting experiences one cocktail at a time. 

After his first week, they offered him a permanent position. Working midday during the week to keep businessmen and women pleased and one Saturday evening shift a month to keep the younger crowd in.  

The low hum of conversation and soft jazz music filled the dimly lit bar as Kento worked behind the sleek marble counter, expertly mixing another round of drinks for the evening's guests. He wore his usual stoic expression, with the usual white button-down shirt and well-fitting slacks to match. 

He placed a completed cocktail on the bar top, and wiped his hands while checking what needed to be refilled. “Utahime? Could I get some more ice and a few more lowball glasses, please?” he spoke into the earpiece he donned on his left ear. “They seem to be disappearing, and Choso isn't back from his break."

"Yeah. Give me 20. I'm running tables for catering. I'll send it by Takuma.”

“Thanks.”

He wiped down the bar top; a figure slid onto one of the high-backed leather stools in his peripheral with an aura that turned heads without needing to demand attention. 

“What can I get started for you this afternoon?”

“I’ll have a French 75, please. Thank you.” Smooth and assured, your voice rang like a hymnal in his ears. 

Kento gave you a nod, his ability to indulge in small talk temporarily taken from him by your presence. He set to work, measuring gin and fresh lemon juice with his usual care, topped with a flourish of champagne. The drink landed before you in a delicate, chilled glass.

You took a sip, eyes never leaving his. Your nude-colored lips curved into a small but telling smile. "Not bad... but not quite perfect either."

Kento raised an eyebrow, subtly intrigued but keeping his expression neutral. “I take it you have high standards.” 

You chuckled, low and sultry. “I’m a person who knows what she wants, and I don’t settle for anything less.”

Nanami leaned in slightly, his tone dry yet teasing. “Perfection is subjective. Some people might call that 'almost' drinkable."

"Almost isn't in my vocabulary," you replied, eyes gleaming with challenge. You pursed your lips. “Not in business, not in life... and definitely not in drinks.”

He smirked, just enough for you to notice. “I’ll keep that in mind for your next order.”

You swirled the drink in your glass, the fizz of champagne catching the low light as you appraised him. “A man who can admit he’s not perfect? You must have been raised well. Refreshing.”

Nanami met your gaze, unruffled by your attempt to throw him off his game. “I prefer precision over perfection. Perfection tends to make people complacent.”

Your eyes narrowed but with a hint of amusement. “Interesting perspective, coming from someone who works behind a bar.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Someone has to remind people that the best things in life have room for improvement. Even when they think they’ve already got it all.”

Tilting your head, glancing at the way the simple silver chain rested against his collar. You were impressed but clearly enjoying the game. “You might be onto something. What’s your name?”

“Nanami Kento,” he said simply, as he wiped down the bar.

“Well, Nanami,” your voice is softer but no less commanding, "next time, why don’t you make me a drink that I can’t critique?”

He gave you a rare, almost imperceptible smile. “Challenge accepted.”

Your eyes lingered on each other, the tension electric. You raised your glass, with a smile so poised and self-assured, before taking another sip.

"Looking forward to it," you murmured, low and teasing. Then, you stood and left a 50-dollar tip with your card. You walked away, your perfume lingering in the air.

Kento read your name on the card. His curiosity ran wild with every possible scenario as he watched your backend disappear into the lobby

_

A few days later, the bar's golden lights glowed softly. They reflected off the dark marble counter as Nanami wiped down glasses. His thoughts drifted to the usual routine. He’d swapped shifts, which resulted in watching the evening crowd trickle in, primarily corporate types and high-society guests, and Nanami managed the situation with his typical efficiency and calm demeanor.

But as he adjusted a bottle of whiskey on the back shelf, a familiar presence caught his eye.

You were back.

You entered with the same quiet confidence, this time fitted with a far more casual, sleek outfit paired with heels that clacked against the polished floor. 

Moving with ease, you slipped into the same seat as last time, your gaze meeting his immediately. Your lips curled into a slow smile, almost as if you knew he’d be expecting you. 

“Good evening," Kento greeted, his voice calm with a slight edge of anticipation. 

"Nanami," you replied, leaning forward. Your self-assured energy was hard to ignore. “It's a pleasure to see you tonight. I think I’m in the mood for something a bit more... complex.” 

“Is that so?” he asked, his tone dry but with an undertone of curiosity. “What are we talking about? A Negroni? Maybe a Vieux Carré?” 

You smiled a glint of challenge in your eye. “Surprise me.”

Kento studied you for a moment, then nodded and began his work. 

His movements were precise but fluid as he grabbed a bottle of mezcal and began crafting a Smoky Margarita, layering complex flavors—mezcal for smokiness, lime for sharpness, and a touch of agave to round it out, all topped off with a rim of chili salt. The drink was bold and nuanced, like the woman before him.

He placed the glass in front of you with hushed confidence, waiting for your reaction. 

With a slow sip, your lips brushed against the glass as your tongue sampled the salted rim. Eyes closed momentarily to savor the taste.

When you opened them, your gaze locked onto his. 

“Now this,” you leaned forward, "is much better.”

Kento leaned on the counter slightly, his smirk more visible this time. “Glad to hear it. Looks like I’m learning.”

“Seems like you’re a quick study.”

You held each other’s gaze, the air between thick with tension that had only grown since your last encounter. Your voice dropped to an intimate murmur, barely audible over the ambient music. “So, Nanami... what do you do when you’re not making perfect drinks?”

He raised an eyebrow, amused by the shift in your tone. “I don’t get much free time. I like structure with very little change. But I do have a break coming up.” 

Your smile widened, and there was a glint of mischief in your eyes. “Is that so? And what do you usually do on these breaks?” 

Kento straightened, glancing around the bar. The crowd was calm tonight, his usuals with a small group of beer drinkers. He certainly wasn’t going to be missed if he disappeared a little earlier than usual. “Not very much. But there’s a private spot upstairs. Quiet.” 

“Lead the way.”

Kento signaled for one of the other bartenders, wordlessly handing off duties as he made his way around the bar and approached you. You stood and walked alongside him through the bar.

Turning the corner without paying attention, an inattentive passerby bumped into Kento, a glass of what he could guess was whiskey now soaking the front of his shirt. “Holy shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” 

You pressed your lips together, smiling as Kento didn’t let the incident interrupt your determined ascent up the stairs. 

You didn’t speak as you made your way to a barrier, secluded alcove on the mezzanine floor—a quiet corner with a view of the city through tall windows, framed by rich drapes. The world outside was glittering and alive, but here, away from prying eyes, it felt like their own little escape.

Kento stopped near the window, turning to face you as the ambient glow of the city lights bathed them both in soft light. You stepped closer, the subtle scent of your perfume mixing with the full scent of whiskey that stuck to him. He unbuttoned his shirt, uncovering his lean torso and square pecs. 

“You have a talent for choosing the right spot.” You said, your voice lower now. 

“I don’t waste time.” He replied, his eyes locked on yours. 

You smirked, stepping even closer until the space between you was nearly nonexistent. “Efficient. I like that.”

Kento’s pulse quickened though his exterior remained composed. The heat of your presence never wavering as he watched your every move. 

You lightly brushed his arm, a deliberate move to see his reaction. 

“I knew you’d be interesting,” you uttered, your voice soft, teasing, but laced with something deeper. “I just didn’t know how interesting.”

Kento’s lips quirked into a small smile, one that carried more weight than any words he could say at that moment. “You’re not so predictable yourself.”

Your eyes locked. The city lights flickered around you, but neither of you noticed, too caught up in the magnetic pull of something new, something charged. 

You reached up, your hand brushing his collarbone. You licked his whiskey-flavored chest. You languidly licked up to his neck as he sucked in a sharp breath. "Hmm." You whispered while your lips hovered close to his. “I like a man who can keep up."

Nanami’s voice was steady, but there was a rough edge to it now. “I don’t plan on slowing down.”

With a final, knowing smile, he closed the gap between you. His lips brushed yours in a kiss more electric than the city lights below. 

“Nanami Kento.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“When you clock out, my room happens to be on the floor above this one.” You slid your room card into his pants pocket as his hand slid down, pressing you into him. 

Kento pushed you to the wall with a quick yet gentle motion, nudging his knee between your thighs. "You've surprised me."

“How so?" The sudden closeness brought a surge of anticipation bursting in your chest.

"I didn't take you for someone who would enjoy a bit of public play."

You rubbed your wetness on his knee, lost in thought. A simpering moan escaped you. "I don't know what you're talking about, Nanami."

Amused by your attempt to keep it together, he moved his knee forward to elicit another moan from you. "The dampness of my slacks says otherwise." He drowned out the sounds of the late-night rush with the pants he pulled from you.

"Tell me how to please you with precision and I'll follow every direction."

Thank you @/saradika-graphics for the dividers ✨

[three--rings]

Most people don't have any understanding of what has been lost in Lahaina Town. Not just lives and property, but an entire town.

Most people hear "a city/town in Hawaii" and they picture probably resorts. And there are plenty of resorts nearby. But those are all fine.

Lahaina was an old whaling town dating back to the original colonization by white settlers. Before white people arrived, it was the capital of the island, where the high chief ruled, including Kamehameha the Great. The buildings are old, wooden, and crowded together. Obviously that was a problem in the face of the insanely fast wildfire.

But these weren't mansions, Mc or otherwise. It was a tourist town, a destination for cute, spendy shopping and dining, full of art galleries. (OMG THE GALLERIES. There was so much ART lost. There was original Dr. Seuss art in one gallery when I was there in January. That's gone now. Etc.)

But the people who lived and worked in Lahaina were mostly working class, working retail and restaurant jobs, living in old apartments and small houses. Lots of elderly, lots of non-white in a wide range of ethnicities, old hippies who have been there since the 60s and 70s. Yeah they were probably a little better off than people who drive in from other places to work in West Maui, at least because their property was high value, if they owned. But they lived without A/C, hung their laundry on lines, biked to work, called in sick to go surfing when the waves were up. There was a Chinese cultural center and a Buddhist temple, two different structures, if that tells you anything. Multiple museums housing historic items and cultural centers.

And the town will be rebuilt, in some form, I imagine. Or re-developed, more likely. People who are now homeless, who can't afford to rebuild or pay for two residences while the recovery happens will be bought out by deep pocketed developers. If they rebuild Lahaina Town I'm afraid it will be Lahaina Town tm by Disney.

Another fake paradise for tourists with lava rock from the Big Island. Another bit of Hawaii swallowed by capitalism and climate change.

I'm not painting everything about Lahaina as it was as perfect. Front Street was an often gaudy display of brand names and hucksters out to shovel in the tourist dollars. And of course the politics of Hawaii are incredibly complex and fraught in so many ways. I'm just a mainlander haole. I will never live on the islands, despite my family there constantly asking me to move. But I've spent more time there than anywhere I haven't lived, almost all of that time in West Maui.

My mom works in a building that is not there anymore. She just described that job to me as "the last job she'll ever have" as she's 79 and very happy with working two days a week selling t-shirts to cruise ship people. My brother has worked in a gallery on front street for the last ten years.

I don't know. A city of almost 15,000 permanent residents is just gone. 50 or so are confirmed dead, in some horrific circumstances from what I hear.

My mom says people are just walking around with thousand-yard-stares, aimless, clutching cell phones trying to get signal (there isn't any, but you can get lucky and get a call through. Some texts are going in but not out.)

So I don't know folks. Keep those people in your thoughts. If you can donate, I think this may be a good place because it's going to lots of local orgs on the ground: https://www.hawaiicommunityfoundation.org/maui-strong

I keep thinking of new sad things.

Anyway I'm going to leave you with a picture I took while strolling down Front Street one evening.

[cry-ptidd]

Me and my sister watched Hellsing together. Here's her opinion on the characters

- Alucard: "He's a cunt, but he's entertaining. I'd probably pay to see him in a strip club. I didn't like him and his shit-eating grin and 'master' bullshit at first, but he grew on me quick and i don't like that he grew on me. He's a complex character, and he's hot asf when he cries. Also I wish we'd seen his Dracula form for longer; that was awesome. Him and Anderson had a thing going on."

- Seras: "Didn't really mind her at first, but liked her after she drank blood. Her transformation and the guns are really fucking cool. I didn't like her voice and her whining at first but it got better after a few episodes. I like her when her personality became a little bit more spunky. Her story's fucked up."

- Integra: "Absolute bad bitch. Her attitude reminds me of myself so idk if I should like it or hate it, she's got a lot of pride which I respect. Really human and I like it, she takes no one's shit and she's a badass. Didn't even FLINCH when she got her eye shot out. Girlboss. She gives me ace vibes also."

- Walter: "I liked him, he was funny. And then he betrayed everyone and became emo. He gave good advice, and he was cool as hell with that wise older veteran vibe. I'm disappointed in him, but the plot twist was actually good. You'd notice the signs if you suspected him from the beginning."

- Pip: "He's FINE. I'd braid his hair any day. I was in love and then I mourned. I'm widowed. He was hilarious, plus his voice actor nailed the French. My favorite character. Screeched when he came back. He's a good leader and I loved his speeches, also his death made me cry. And I don't often cry when watching anime."

- Anderson: "kinda neutral. I didn't like him at first, he was obnoxious as fuck. Then he respected women and opposed Maxwell and his orders so he grew in my esteem a bit. His character is cool as fuck tho. I wish he didn't turn into a monster, he fell to the same level as Alucard. It's like human greed or desperation for power. Him and Alucard had a thing going on."

- Enrico Maxwell: "Lucius Malfoy. I hate him but not the one I hate most."

- Heinkel & Yumie: "Really like these two lesbians. So cool and I respect their resolve, especially Heinkel's. Rip Yumi. You were cool. Heinkel being intersex is a dope detail, she's very androgynous too. I like their designs."

- The major: "Augustus Gloop? I like the fact he refused vampirism, that was cool, but he's an actual fucking sociopath and I hate him"

- The Captain: "Ngl, I actually find him quite dope, aside from the nazi thing. Literally no one respected him, that shit had me crying. His face is pretty and his tits are big, even if he looks a bit goofy at times. Wish we'd seen more of him. I felt kinda bad when he got defeated."

- Schrödinger: "I want this thing dead"

- Rip van winkle: "She gives me the vibes of a Dr Seuss character."

- Zorin: "Bleach Ichigo knockoff. Fuck this bitch in particular I hate her"

- The Valentine brothers: "A slav squat necrophile and his gay brother that used to be a runway model but got cancelled after a scandal"

Overall: A hit, neither of us expected her to like it. She likes the political and literary aspects, and also finds the characters interesting. She doesn't really know how to feel about the ending; she considers it realistic and a good end, but she wished it was more epic. But from a writing perspective it's good. Also she lowkey wished Alucard would turn Integra into a vampire, just because it would be cool. Now we send each other memes about it. She calls Nendocard a whore when she passes by him, but says she'd buy a Pip nendo in a heartbeat

[alasforsooth]

Dr Seuss has not aged well in some respects but he was dead on with this one

[evieelyzabethh]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐞𝐝

pairing(s): spike x demon!reader

summary: watching the man you love fawn over someone else is always hard, especially when you know you could love him better.

warnings: angst with a happy ending, later seasons Spike, soft Spike, the reader is a demon so old that no one knows your name and they call you Honey.

Spike was an actor, but William was a poet. This was easy to tell when watching Spike act as if he wasn't in love with Buffy. William would've written her a sonnet, presented her with a rose and some ridiculously expensive necklace. The image of a stone glittering around her neck would've inspired dozens of lines of prose, enough to keep her image alive in those fateful moments when she wasn't there to be looked upon. Spike looked. He watched. He stalked. It was his bad boy persona, the leather jacket hiding the heart that still beat out of his chest. Some things never changed.

This new apocalypse had changed something, though, that and the fact that Buffy had now come back from the dead a second time. You thought it would make her more formidable. A cockroach. Through apocalypse after apocalypse, thick and thin, even death, she was never really gone. Whether she was crawling, suffering, or drowning, she always came back. You liked Buffy, you were friends, or whatever she called the unhumans she hung around who wasn't dating her or one of her friends.

She kept you at an arms width ever since she found you back before her first death. In a bottle or a vase, something old and dusty that tipped over in the library and through smoke you materialized. You didn't remember much; you didn't remember anything. The collection of you took days, like assembling some million and one pieced puzzle. Pieces were lost along the way, Giles bet that somewhere between your brain being assembled and your bones hardening that your memory slipped through the cracks of the old hardwood flooring and was lost to the Hell Mouth beneath. He also said that if the memory was so heavy it sank, it wasn't worth remembering anyways.

This being said, it made since that she wasn't immediately open to letting you in and you were fine with that. You didn't know how to exist otherwise. Feelings were also lost on you, along with your name, and breathing, and speaking. You read a lot, after being placed in Giles' care, you only ever were in the school library or his personal library in his apartment, and being born again, you now had a broken vocabulary of unnatural and old English.

It was Willow who named you Honey. She told you hot tea helped with the healing vocal cords and that honey would hopefully act as a sticky cement so they would stay together. Lots of honey was what you consumed until your presence became synonymous with honey and then that became your name. Remembering to breath came soon after, it made your human company that much more relaxed around you. That and the fact that because you were so broken, you weren't deemed a threat.

Feelings came crashing after the fact.

Angelus' return took a toll on Buffy and Spikes appearance began your ascension. You had read classics before; Giles didn't exactly keep copies of Dr. Seuss or even Baum. It was all Bronte, Shelly, or Austen. Writers who taught you that humans love and to love is human and you didn't understand at all not until

"And who might you be, love?"

What are you wasn't the question and he called you "love". Could you be called love, was that something you could be. With how much honey you consumed, you probably were part honey, but even outside of that, when the humans introduce themselves, they say "I am..." so you said "I am Honey" to fit in.

But he called you Love.

You didn't doubt Willow, but you wondered if being Honey was a mistake, if being love was an option. To be love would mean to have love and how did one do that.

"I am Honey." you replied. 3 words that didn't even scratch the surface of what you wanted to say. Maybe speech was more lost on you than you thought.

A lot of time had passed since then. A few apocalypses, a more modern and appropriate speech pattern, plenty of feelings and more importantly, the knowledge that feelings couldn't be shared.

Being so far removed from everyone else made it easy to notice things that they didn't. You noticed her push him away. You had heard him confess. You had become friends after a while, and there were many moments when you would be in his crypt talking to him in between bottles of wine and blood, pigs' blood after he became aware of his feelings. He told you about her, he raved about her bravery, he retold her jokes. The affect she had on him was palpable, impossible to ignore. His lips spoke of Buffy, he cried tears that reflected Buffy, even when he looked at you, he was looking for pieces of Buffy. That was the only explanation for why he would look at you for so long. You weren't a genius, you weren't even a poet, but you knew better than to delude yourself. And yet

He looked at you.

He watched you. He saw you. He perceived you; and it was so beautiful.

He also told you of Dru. She would have moments of clarity when she would revert to the ghost of who she was before Angelus drove her insane. Moments when she would look at the stars, not because she was seeing things, but because she was looking at them. Like the haze of one thousand years had cleared and she was looking at the stars, not shiny shards of glass wedged in a rocky ceiling. She stopped echoing wishes, and she made them. He even told you her favorite wish. She wanted a pretty dress to go to a pretty ball. It was so normal and human. She wanted to exist and be a girl in her own time again, like it used to be. Maybe she also wanted to be human.

Sometimes, if you found the strength in you to stomach it, you liked to think he looked at you like how she used to look at the stars. Like Buffy was his pipe dream and you were what he really wanted.

It wasn't a stretch of the imagination. She was a slayer, and he was a vampire. She is a pipe dream. She was the false stars of shattered glass, she was dangerous to him, she would hurt him. She has hurt him.

Every time he told her he loved her, she told him no. A step worse than rejection, she denied he even could love her. Demons weren't capable of love; he was experiencing obsession. He wanted to own her, to take her, ravish her and leave her a husk of who she used to be then toss her when the infatuation faded. He didn't need to, she already was. Death did that to her, she didn't need Spike to finish the job. And obsession. If what Spike felt towards her was obsession, then what the hell was she feeling.

This all lead to today. An old show playing on the boxy television, sitting on a newly stolen couch, occasionally passing a bowl of popcorn between the two of you. The show was a cheesy vampire comedy where the main character had finally cornered the terrifying "Dracula" and staked him with a cartoonishly large stake. "Blood squirted everywhere, coating the main character with what was probably corn syrup, chocolate syrup, and red food dye.

"That is totally unrealistic. Us vampires don't bleed, and he would've seen that stake from a mile away." he said while tossing a handful of popcorn at the screen.

"I doubt they had a way to turn him to dust back in like the 40's." he scoffed at your nonchalance.

"This is ridiculous. Us vampires need better representation on the telly, they're makin' us look like bumbling idiots." you can' help but laugh at his dramatics. In his rage, his hair had fallen out of place. It wasn't gelled like it usually was, a mistake he'll probably rectify in a few hours when the sun goes down.

"I didn't know you took such pride in being a vampire." He dramatically jumps to face you, a disgusted look on his face.

"Of bloody course I do. Why on Earth would I want to be human."

"Maybe Buffy would like you if you were human." For anyone else it would've been a low blow, but he lets you slide. That and the fact that beneath the mocking tone you took, you didn't laugh at it all that much.

"Would you want to be human, love?" There it is again. You should be used to it by now, but you still every time you hear it from him. Maybe because when it comes from him you want it. You had been on dates with other guys, some of whom confessed to you. The Scoobies told you they loved you multiple times before, even better, they all meant it and the feeling is mutual. Why is it still so much different with him.

"I don't know, I think it could be nice. I think life would be easier." He smiled.

"Why? You're not a vampire, you can frolic in the sun as much as you'd like." you shake your head.

"That's not it." What could it be? Spike wasn't often confused, as a matter of fact he was extremely self-assured, but he couldn't figure out what you were missing out on. He'd much rather be in you position than to remember every sin he's ever committed. You got the immortality and the powers with none of the guilt that comes with it.

"If I was human, I wouldn't be nearly as confused. I'd know more, I guess."

"But what if you never lost your memory? Knowing things wouldn't be an issue." If only knowing your name was the knowledge you were seeking.

"Knowing things wouldn't be an issue but there are some uniquely human things I can't experience because I'm not a human."

"Like what?" Being human at one point was interesting, it was so ingrained in Spike he couldn't imagine what it would be like for feelings to not be second nature. He never needed to understand them, feeling them was more than enough.

"I don't know because I'm not human. I don't know what I'm missing, but I'm missing something." Quit beating around the bush.

"What if you didn't need to be human and it just fell out?"

"What is so bad about being human that it fell out."

"Trust me, as a former human myself, there is plenty to hate about being human. They're puny and pathetic." He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the couch along then struck a match against a loose plank of wood. Bringing it to his lips, he inhaled the smoke and blew it away from your face, but the breeze from an open (broken) window whisked it towards your face anyway.

"But is that because you were human, or because you are you?" His gaze hardened at how quick the answer came.

"You think I was pathetic?" The fallen embers came onto his pants, but he paid them no mind.

"You think you used to be pathetic." Though this was true, a part of him felt offended. Even stranger, he didn't know which part.

"Because I was. I was human and emotional and a bloody mess, because I was human. Demons don't feel anything which is far better than feeling and getting hurt."

"But you aren't demon enough to know what it means to feel nothing!" You weren't a demon to him, though. It would've been easy for him to forget that you weren't one of those pesky humans had it not been for your distinctly not human scent. It was like whisky, rich and old and expensive. Too expensive to break open and drink because it grew more valuable with time. He'd do anything for you not to go to waste.

"And if you want to feel so badly, you can't possibly be that much of a demon!" To waste you would for you to be human. They're too fragile. They die. Spike longed to be a demon because at his core, he was a coward. He didn't want to die. Judging by how much you yearned to be human, you feared loneliness more.

"Why do you love Buffy so much." Ah, the point.

Spike was many things. A bastard, one of those British nancy boys, a coward, a freak. A thing he prided himself the most on was his intellect. He was insightful, he could be emotionally intelligent when he wanted to be. This was the important part.

A part of him knew his best friend loved him. A part he profusely ignored because he was only emotionally intelligent when he wanted to be. He could admit that he was intellectual and intelligent and at times wise, he believed those to be self-evident truths, cornerstones of his Spikeism. He's the brooding, yet insightful, bad boy with a heart of gold who does the right thing when it conveniences him. He's an actor and this was the character he's had centuries to build, and he'd be damned it cracked because then he'd be proving that he was never anything more than William "The Bloody Bad Poet".

Maybe self-hatred was the root of it. The inescapable need- no instinct, to kick himself in the ass at any possible opportunity, was why he ignored you. It had to be some sick penchant for pain, or the belief that he wasn't deserving of good things, because if you were nothing else, you were good to him which meant you deserved better than him.

But altruism doesn't fit into the paradigm of Spike. Altruism is William's thing which made this so much more horrifying. William loved you. Spike loving you meant nothing because he didn't really mean it. The stage kisses and the dramatized sex scenes were suffocatingly filled with false passion, more passion than humanly possible. Spike loved hard, William loved deeply, and both loved you. It couldn't be undone, but it could be forgotten.

"I don't know." Those 3 words didn't even begin to scratch the surface of why he "loved" her.

"But all I know of love comes from you, I learned it from you, and you don't know why you love her?" You wanted to cry, and you hated it. If you could take it back, you would. You wished you had shut your mouth and watched the stupid show that was still playing as you had this argument.

"Love isn't something you explain." He put distance between the two of you, standing up and walking away from the couch in search for a bottle of alcohol. He wasn't planning on you following him, following closer than the tail of his leather duster.

You threw the alcohol before his hand even grazed it, smashing it against the concrete walls of his crypt. Positioning yourself between himself and the makeshift table that used to be a grave, you stood your ground. Blinking back tears because the second water hit that cement you were done for.

"Then show me. That's how I learned before." He clenched then unclenched his jaw. Buffy was all over him, but you were inside of him. The air he breathed, the blood in his veins, the force making his heart beat was you and it always had been. "Show me."

He was scared.

"What if you don't understand." He was stalling. For too long he hadn't been allowed to have anything. Dru was never his because Angelus had ingrained his way into her very being. Buffy was never realistic, and even if she was, she was human. One day she'd die, and he'd move on long before that date anyways. You were so attainable, and you were willing to be his. What if he fucked up. He has, right in front of him, sharing breaths mere inches from each other, everything he had ever wanted, and he didn't even have to fight for it. Handed to him on a silver platter was the key to the universe, but he could find a way to fuck it up. He always did.

"You don't know that." He held your head in his hands, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. His world in the palm of his hands. What if he dropped it.

"You love me?"

"I didn't even know what love was before I met you." You whispered it and he shattered. He kissed you, as if he could pull the sound from your lips so that your confession him that could replay forever in his mind. Like he was sealing some sort of promise so you couldn't take it back.

"I love you." He said in between kisses. "I love you so much it hurts." He kissed you on the forehead." I love you so much it makes me feel alive again." He kissed you on your right cheek, "Longed for you like the sun and cherished you like the stars, I love you.", then on the left.

He looked you in the eyes before kissing you again. As if he wouldn't be there to say it again, as if you could somehow forget it, he said it once more.

"I love you."

[artofhazbinhotel]

Class of 09 as The Vees part 2

Vox: Do you actually wanna fucking fight right now?

Valentino: Bitch I have a knife don't even try me!

Vox: Yeah right, what are you gonna do with that?

Valentino: Stab you and watch the skeet pour out!

Vox: Not if I choke you first!

Valentino: I'll spit in your face!

Vox: I'll spit in your mouth!

Valentino: I'll like it!

Velvette: What is happening?

Valentino: Will you spit in mine back?

Vox: I'll bite your bottom lip and make you fucking bleed

Valentino: Promise to kiss me after

Velvette: What the fuck

Valentino: You wanna be sexed up abusive lesbians?

Vox: Fuck no

Valentino: Why not?

Vox: Because you'd be the one doing all the abusing!

Valentino: Oh, like what?

Vox: Some weird shit, you'd like... Put a cigarette out on my neck and then lick the burn

Valentino: So you wanna try it?

Vox: No!

Valentino: Maybe she'll think twice next time

Velvette: You shot 5 bullets so she'll think twice?!

Valentino: Yeah it could of been less but I fired with my eyes closed

Velvette: Apologize, wage slave

Valentino: Nothing makes me happy anymore, not even cocaine

Velvette: Try this first page, sound it out

Valentino: Wuh-uh, one fiss-huh, twoah fiss-huh

Vox: Are you serious?

Valentino: You picked a hard one on purpose!

Velvette: This is a Dr. Seuss book you fucking dipship

Valentino: If it's so easy why don't you try, huh?

Velvette: One fish, two fish, red fish, you bitch

Valentino: That last part is blue fish, I knew you couldn't do it!

Valentino: I have an unprotected sex fetish

Vox: I have a sex in general fetish

Valentino: Small world, one of my 30 boyfriends has that

Velvette: 30 boyfriends?!

Valentino: Oh yeah, when a Dominican construction worker cat calls me, immediate relationship

Vox: Yeah I love Val but he's a major whore

Valentino: I don't get paid-

Vox to Sir Pentious in that one call: The most notable thing you can do is kill yourself

Valentino: I'd rather play dead at a necrophilia convention

Part 1

Part 3

[limeartichoke]

limer's slendermansion au masterpost!

mostly made for myself and anyone else who wants to read/is interested! most of my fanart is built around this too ha ha. containing headcanons/a complete overhaul/fanon depictions of my fave creepypastas + the slendermansion au, because i think my brain deserves to think about them

(now illustrated!!)

tws in the tags but there's nothing too serious i think

the slendermansion/slenderman;

- bastard man you will never be a father figure in my eyes

- there is no such thing as any other variant of slenderman (we are not in a Dr Seuss book we do not need the rhyming quartet of evil white men)

- doesn't speak, probably leaning more towards the operator rather than slenderman tbh

- except this guy has exceptional situational humour (it's me I'm the humour)

- not explicitly abusive but like if you don't obey him when he sends you out to do proxy shit he'd probably kill you

- which is a problem especially with a house contained with not only agents/berserkers but also sleepers

- which actually thinking about it isn't that big of a deal except for the like 2 guys where they have DID and one alter is an agent and the other isn't

- the house is kind of like the monster house from monster house albeit a little more lowkey in it having a consciousness (so perhaps a little more alike to the house in encanto, just less friendly)

- you don't age in the house, but it's a situation where you don't really notice that fact until you really think about how the dates never really change properly

- wounds don't heal properly either, but if someone is fatally injured within the house slenderman usually blinks them out of existence for a couple hours before they're found again, perfectly fine, but lost around the woods surrounding the mansion

- the only time you'll actually see him is if fatal injuries happen or if a proxy has fucked up on a mission or something and needs immediate backup (kind of like alex in MH)

- missions are always posted through the letterbox once a month in envelopes along with the four weekly newspapers (maybe a magazine if you're lucky)

- possibly also how the proxies source their wanted posters info, which is usually contained in the paper. they have disputes and contests on whose criminal description is the best (slenderman interferes with cameras so no photo evidence exists of any of these people outside of the mansion, only eye witness accounts)

- only a certain amount of people are used to go out every month, typically in groups of threes/fours - less if the people he's sending out are older (responsible of him, I know)

- mansion is situated in a black void. please don't ask me where this void is because I don't know but it's probably a different dimension from the earth most of them are sourced from

ben drowned;

- the benjamin lawman kind of ben

- seemingly an infinite supply of pondscum he's constantly picking off of himself

- whenever a new zelda game comes out he's always excited because it's a new link skin to use + so when botw came out it was like the equivalent of a wardrobe makeover

- one of the few that doesn't have to share a room with anyone given his physical body is like, semi real and mostly spends his nights in his game cartridge which is in an overheating Nintendo 64 in the tower attic, which is too small for a bed anyway - but ben personalises it as much as possible (it's a pig sty)

- speaking of his body, it's in a weird liminal state of real and not real, because he can make it disappear/reappear but everyone can touch him, he can touch others, etc. i explain this away via slender mansion dead person magic

- he doesn't typically eat, and even though he doesn't need to he likes making his body breathe (as much as it can since it's waterlogged most of the time)

- Ben's body is mostly in a state of flux dependent on his mood, eg: if he's content/happy he looks less drowned, if he's upset/angry he looks more corpse-like

- can spy on people through any electronic within like a 50 ft radius of his console without him actually having to enter the device, so to say

- this has caused many an argument

- along with him being able to phase in and out of reality he can also appear in any digital screen

- constantly electrostatic and will constantly touch people to give them electric shocks to piss them off

- probably one of the youngest there, about 12/13. maybe even eleven - around the age when preteen boys become semi unbearable 364 days of the year and have like one day of emotional realisation

jeff the killer;

- just want to clarify that this jeff has hair and eyelids in this au i feel like that's important

- but he doesn't blink much to put people off so really it's almost as if he doesn't have eyelids anyway

- will not stop picking at his mouth wound & that shit has NOT healed and will not stop oozing plasma/rbc

- ptsd from an ambiguous house fire that probably happened but Jeff won't talk about it (read: I haven't decided on the specifics yet)

- I've seen in some stories jeff and fire are tight but I've always interpreted it as more of an adversion to it

- honestly my reformed fanon version of him is pieced together from a bunch of rewrites I've seen

- mentally ill asshole (emphasis on asshole, he sucks ass)

- like come on sure a few kids bullied him but your first instinct shouldn't be to kill them . that's at least step 27 on a bad day

- tbf he had neglectful parents

- but like so did liu and he only started being homicidal after his brother disfigured him

- killed his parents but was unsuccessful with fully killing liu because, funnily enough, killing someone you gaf about is hard even for dickhead jeff

- shares a bedroom with nina and jane because the house (me) thought it would be funny

- quite disturbed when he realised nina was there to stay and probably tried to kill her at one point (again)

- someone take away the bad graphic tees he wears it's almost a crime against humanity

- he cuts all his t shirts up but like. stylishly

- or as stylishly you can get especially when paired with massive fucking demonias he will not stop wearing . he's had them since he was like 12 the only reason they fit is through sheer force of will (no one talk to him about his feet blisters)

- he's like. nineteen at a push but probably the kinda guy to lie and make himself seem younger for pity points

- "i killed my parents when i was fifteen, god can we not grow from our errors anymore? cancel culture nowadays. [...] when was my hunt? oh yesterday ha ha it was a bloodbath"

-smokes

nina the killer;

- wow! i wonder who she likes the most in this household!

- (amongst other things) bpd, jeff is her favourite person and it's a pretty miserable fucking time for the first like, year she's living there he is so horrible

- on a bad day her preferred state of being is being at least within a six foot radius of him at all times (maybe he might learn empathy being around her, who knows)

- he went on a little killing spree post-woods family murder and killed Nina's parents, & disfigured her w the glasgow smile but before he killed her slenderman intervened (not to save nina but to make sure jeff himself didn't like die from his own injuries)

- she was his only survivor and saw it as a.. "wow... he saved me from my abusive household, i need to get to him"

- this didn't go down well with her case worker

- neither did her running away (which really wasn't a good idea with massive facial wounds but she did NOT want the hospital to heal them)

- (insert probably incorrect medical jargon) she now has a face which healed with big gaps, sometimes keeps the flaps stapled together for easier eating/speaking purposes but they won't heal back together now

- she takes out the staples when on missions though because she thinks it looks cooler

- her and toby probably go through those face staples like wildfire together

- she only killed one guy before being led (by the operator) to the mansion to try and get jeff's attention (unbeknownst to her jeff does not read or watch the news so had no idea of this copycat kill - she was quite distraught by this)

- one of the few that suffers quite badly with self harm

- her parents were awful and when her little brother died (when he was about four and nina was nine) from their neglect they blamed it on nina

- not necessarily unkind to everyone else but she also especially warmed up to ben because from her fuzzy memory she can see a vague resemblance between ben and her little brother

- scene queen +curly hair she flat irons like once a month on special occasions

- she's the one that does everybody's piercings and sticknpokes

- should she? not at all she didn't even google an online tutorial, just guesswork

- probably about. 15 ish? maybe 16. I don't like her canon age of 11 because the thought of an eleven year old going "i love jeff the killer i hope we jeff the kill together" is lame

- jeff is incredibly put off by her whole schtick and was not impressed upon finding out she was there for the long haul (wouldn't it be funny if this happens thrice)

eyeless jack;

- I've heard so many goddamn variations of his story so I'm just gonna riff and make my own

- 16 y/o kid, average in every which way, gets involved with the wrong people who basically feed him on drugs which make him have bad hallucinations, trips to the point where jack gets very fucking frightened while high and it ends up with the aforementioned wrong people unintentionally killing him

- everyone panics and dumps his body which rots for a while (eyes rotted out first)

- guess who picks it up! (unspecified) cult

- they use him for a ritual which goes awry

- jack's corpse proceeds to be possessed by a demonic force which revives him but he's... different now #emo

- kills cultists as his brain, as decomposed at it was, carried on the fight/flight instinct he initially died with

-but whoops! doesn't remember his life at all (as demon nor human) and almost ends up starving to death before like jeff or someone finds him and drags him back to the mansion

- seeing as jack is a (semi) demonic entity slenderman does not appreciate him in the house but the actual house itself does not gaf and provides him a bedsit anyway

- finds out his name when going through the paper with others and they see his missing poster printed on the front page of 2 of the papers (he's since been demoted to a back page story)

- his brain is a weird combination of demonic and human matter (but he's still just one person, just a hybrid now - leaning more human)

-the tar comes from something to do with the specific ritual and it stains like shit

- which was unfortunate to jeff and his previously perfectly white hoodie

- finds out he eats kidneys after being force-fed by jeff and toby the left over meats the house provided for them that no-one else wanted to eat

- so basically take a human corpse with no eyes with tar for blood and stuff in a demonic entity and give both the host and entity amnesia

- atp he's older than 16 but he doesn't know how long his body was dead for + how long he was in the real world so really he just kinda guesses he's probably 18-19 now

- got his mask as a kinda shitty paper mache project from sally at one unspecified holiday (birthday or Christmas probably) and got it cast in a layer of resin to keep it lasting longer

tim wright/brian thomas;

- like maybe twice a month tim is let out to go shopping for everyone, if not for his mental health if nothing else (considering the house realistically could stock it's own shelves) like walking a dog

- never let out together because they will just run away (even if masky ends up dragging them both back it's still a hassle)

- everyone else is much more okay with this living arrangement than tim

- albeit the only reason brian isn't as uncomfortable with the situation is because he died, and has a lingering sense that this is his purpose now (that's the proxy in him, he doesn't actually believe that)

- they push their single beds together to create the most uncomfortable double bed on planet earth

- has a period where they kinda hated each other at first before realising getting over it and making out up

- it's okay now they love each other (i may have skipped a few chapters)

- (said chapters being arguably more than a little traumatic for both of them but it's. fine)

- tim arrived first, brian took a while as the operator takes longer to resuscitate corpses than he does to just guide a living person into his influence

- brian still looks a little fucked up though (one pupil larger than the other, bruising on his back from his blood pooling, + other related non-issue injuries now that he's been reanimated)

- masky is an alter of tim's , in which masky is the operator's agent and tim is not

- turns out the seizures weren't JUST the operators doing. is he allowed his anticonvulsants or antipsychotics though? well, the house doesn't provide them and if he manages to steal some from outside & he's too conspicuous about it they mysteriously disappear so there's a lot of untreated mental and physical illness going on here

- neither masky or tim know if there are any other alters because masky has never cared and Tim's only just finding out that masky isn't the operator's doing (albeit the operator is a front trigger)

- while unmedicated, tim comes to realise there's so much shit that makes him and masky a little cofront-y/switchy when before he just thought it was normal dissociation

- in my head brian is kind of a sleeper agent but remembers what he does when he is acting as the operators proxy, probably similarly to how alex was (oh how the turn tables) but he can snap back out of wanting to kill people where alex didn't/couldn't

- he is the meme "there are two wolves inside of you"

- tim is constantly stressing about everyone going out dressed like they're ready for a night out partying (especially jane and nina, they do not dress practically)

- brian and masky dgaf they're just here hoping to not keel over and die (again)

- probably about 24-27, part of me prefers them being on the younger side for comedies sake

- like the operator finally kidnaps a few adults to take care of these misfit teenagers and the adults have barely entered their 20's themselves

-peak comedy

"ticci" toby;

- hates being called ticci toby or any variant that isn't just his name

- this is of course exploited by his peers (cough jeff) to piss him off

- it really doesn't help that when he's agitated his tics get worse

- because of this he tends to lock himself in his bedroom to get away from jeff being a jackass

- the first proxy slender brought to the mansion

- which was a shit idea because who the hell decided that a kid with schizophrenia and multiple dead family members to hallucinate was a good option to leave by himself with a ghost (sally)

- especially with the issue that nobody in this household is medicated properly

- he has mild asthma that he keeps thinking he grew out of years ago (spoiler, he didn't)

- probably close with nina and liu but otherwise near the beginning he's very reserved

- because he can't feel pain + his bones are pretty weak the amount of times he'll come back home, take off his clothes to bathe or something and only then realise he's completely fucking mangled one of his joints (his left ankle is typically the victim)

- ergo he walks with a limp because the bones sit too awkwardly to really walk very well but running is less of an issue especially when adrenaline is pumping

- ...unless his knees play up and he kind of just crumples under his own weight . he always curses when he finds that he literally cannot get away with no bedrest

- the muzzle was NOT his idea and he is not impressed at being made to wear it like surely there are other options to him biting at his fingers

- eventually jeff becomes less antagonistic (sometimes) and they become closer

- they became pretty close after having to resuscitate jack together

- probably have debates on whose version of blade is better

- probably pretends to have a tic and launches his axe at jeff, who in turn literally never believes when toby's actually having a tic attack

- has this almost gotten them both shot out on the field several times? yeah

- refuses to believe he has cannibalistic tendencies as he eats from someone's liver, "just to try it"

- dressed like it's always the thick of winter

- keeping his canon age of 17 because it fits well with the late teenager aged up situation i got going on

jane the killer;

- holy shit it happened twice

- i kinda dig the original story of jane just hating jeff so much she goes around killing people (specifically men in my mind #misandristqueen) pretending she's killing jeff

- in my head though it wasn't jeff who attacked her, but a copycat instead (not nina, just some other male serial killer)

- hates her face now and the mask is specifically a fitted prosthetic

- by the time she was getting over her hatred slenderman brought her into the woods and got her to the mansion

- she was not happy and neither was jeff

- incredibly hostile the first day before jeff finally stopped antagonizing her because she would have just killed him

- finding out that it wasn't actually jeff who disfigured her caused some conflict but in the end she still settled on hatred

- real

- hardcore goth 40% of the time the other 60% she literally looks unrecognisable

- eventually stops wearing her prosthetic in a casual setting but still uses it while hunting

- probably 19-20 ish, but she acts so much older

characters I've put less thought into:

alex&jay as skully

since the operator took so long to start bringing their bodies back from the dead, when he uses either of them as a proxy there's not yet human life within them, currently 100% operator. As time moves on, this decreases, and they may join the ruckus of the mansion one day. For now, glances of the familiar mask unsettle both Tim and Brian.

sally

corpses when brought back to life still will forever look pretty fucked up ( as mentioned with brian having injuries from his fall + prolonged time being dead)so the reason sally is covered in blood is due to this fact. She was one of the first (after toby) for slender to house and literally no one can find out why tf he's housing a stressed seven year old ghost-corpse - because really she acts more like a ghost, and typically avoids the more masculine newcomers until she can get a good feel if they're okay from everyone else. doesn't necessarily avoid all men, especially if said man is pretty typically feminine (long hair, no facial hair, etc). has taken a liking to hanging around jeff who is probably the quickest person he stopped being fucking horrible too, because she's literally seven and he is a villain not a monster ok

homicidal liu

probably one of the most violent/reactive towards fellow proxies because of his brother (LOL) but if you're chill, he's chill, which is probably why he gets along best with toby who also mostly kept to himself at the beginning. doesn't have DID because i don't think it fits his character (given his main trauma was in his teens) but did probably cause serious fluctuations in mood, being able to go from 0 to 100 quickly. had a grand entrance to the mansion where he tried to kill jeff upon first seeing him (reasonable reaction)

to conclude, i made this all for me but also for anyone who has interest in my au! any and all creepypasta/marble hornets drawings are probably part of this au (whether the art takes before the characters were part of the slendermansion or not ha ha)

[thenightling]

Addressing some old confusion about Nightmare before Christmas

Tim Burton is getting a lot of attention lately because of the new Beetlejuice sequel so a lot of his other work is being talked about. The Spooky season also leads to conversations about his work. And every year it's the same thing. Someone will list their favorite Tim Burton movies and someone will go "Umm... Actually, Henry Selick directed Nightmare before Christmas." Yes, he did. But I am willing to argue that three men deserve the bulk of the credit for Nightmare before Christmas. First we need to go backward to the early 1980s when a young Tim Burton was working for Disney as an animator, uncredited, for The Fox and the Hound. An unpleasant aspect of working for Disney is anything you create while working for Disney... belongs to Disney. While working for Disney Tim Burton doodled the characters that would become the main characters of Nightmare before Christmas. He also wrote a long-form story book / poem in the style of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" by Dr. Seuss. It wasn't until the early 1990s that Disney finally agreed to allow this story to be adapted into a film, and also allowed the book, itself, to finally be published a mere few months before the 1993 release of the movie adaptation. In the early 90s there was a cinematic trend that the author of a Gothic book was in the movie title such as Bram Stoker's Dracula and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. But as Bram Stoker and Mary Shelley are long dead, no one mistook them as the director of their movies. The easy mistake may have been deliberate on Disney's part since Disney was preying on the (then) current rising success of Tim Burton's film directing career. (The 2004 Halmark mini-series of Frankenstein is closer to the Mary Shelley novel than the movie called Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, by the way.) Early in the production of the movie Tim Burton went to composer Danny Elfman's home and told him the story piece by piece. Danny Elfman immediately related to the protagonist Jack Skellington as he was in the middle of his own identity crisis as a the lead singer of New Wave rock band, Oingo Boingo. Danny Elfman had recently discovered his talent for and love for film and TV composing. Danny Elfman soon had eleven songs composed that made a full opera of the story Tim Burton told him. In fact, according to Danny Elfman, Tim Burton is uncredited but wrote some of the lyrics. Danny Elfman became so attached to Jack Skellington that he was also the character's singing voice for the movie. Danny Elfman's opera version of the story (just the songs without dialogue between them) became the basis for annual concerts that were performed as recently as last year at the Hollywood Bowl.

Henry Selick was the director of Nightmare before Christmas (the movie) and he had to deal with the tedious work of overseeing the entire stop motion process, probably the most painstaking part of the project. Caroline Thompson wrote the script for Nightmare before Christmas but only after the eleven songs were composed, the dialogue she wrote for the movie consisted of less than ten minutes of the movie's running time. So for the confused: The director of Nightmare before Christmas was Henry Selick. He had to oversee the entire stop motion animation process. The score, song lyrics, and Jack Skellington's singing voice was Danny Elfman, who wrote all eleven songs before there was a script and wrote them so well that they could stand without a script. (But he says Tim Burton wrote some of the lyrics but is uncredited). Tim Burton wrote the original short story / poem that was published the same year as the movie's release as an illustrated children's book. Tim Burton wrote some of the lyrics, chose the color pallets of the sets, and even was the one who decided Sally's socks would have to be striped when the puppet couldn't stand up right because her ankle were too small. Yes, Henry Selick should get credit as the director. But Tim Burton should also get credit for the original story, the character designs / concept art, and Danny Elfman needs the credit for all The scoring, most of the lyrics, and Jack Skellington's most passionate moments as he was the singing voice and Jack did a lot more singing than talking.

These three men, together, with their collective talents, are why we have Nightmare before Christmas.