#13'S REAL NAME IS REMY

[blackoutbugza]

hey beetles!

introduction

🪲🐌🐛🐞

☆……………….

hey there! my name’s blackoutbugza. 

“what do i call you?”

you can call me by my username, or you can call me by my nicknames: bugza, bob, and cam. :)

“who is your target audience?”

my blog is mostly ages 13+ for explicit language, in-character art which may involve sensitive content such as blood, knives, scissors, cuts, scars, suicide, sexual innuendo, injuries, or even death. this sounds like an ad for medicine. of course, i will have warnings on my posts if any of these apply to them. 

(note: 13+ DOES NOT mean 18+. please keep this in mind, im still a minor too.)

“what fandoms are you in?”

in order from most to least currently hyperfixated:

sanders sides

bfdi/osc community

bee and puppycat

omori

boisvert

south park

spooky month

five nights at freddy’s

scott pilgrim

hilda

stanley parable

^i’m more than happy to talk about any of these fandoms if you’re interested!

“do you support multishippers?”

yes! i find no harm in shipping someone with more than one person (if they’re not anyone from real life). in fact, i’m a multishipper myself!

“do you take art requests?”

you betcha! any day, any time. but i do have some rules however for what i can and cannot draw for you:

i’m totally okay with ship art. as long as it’s not anything involving p*dophelia, inc*st, r*cism, some kind of f*tish, or anything else falling under that umbrella.

following that “ship art” thing, poly ships are just as valid too. follow the the rules as rule 1 please.

although i may post this art from time to time on my own, i will not do any personal OCs or AUs. i love them very much and you have interesting characters, but this is basically the equivalent to asking, “can you draw me?”

i can draw theories as long as they’re not harmful ones, and as long as they at least make sense.

i won’t take requests for any fandom outside of the list i have above. (however of course, let’s if you wanted a sanders sides art request and you asked for emile picani or remy sleep, that would be fine since sanders sides, the sleep shorts, and cartoon therapy are all in the same universe.)

“who’s on your DNI list?”

p*dophiles, inc*sts, pro-lifers, anyone who will go out of their way to hate on furries or alterhumans (or claims they are the same), harmful f*tish artists/enjoyers, NSFW artists/enjoyers, r*cists, misogynists and misandrists, ableists, homophobes, transphobes, or anyone pro-israel. ^anyone who interacts with me who’s on this list WILL be unfollowed/blocked, and will not receive any sort of contact from me.

“what if i have a question you don’t answer in this introduction post?”

my “send art requests!” button also works as an answering service for any further questions you may have.

“what sanders sides ships will you and will you not do art requests for?”

(not in order from favorites)

will:

logicality

prinxiety

dukeceit

moceit

analogical

loceit

intrulogical

intruloceit

logicaliceit

remile

royality

anxceit

intruality

logince

karrot kings

literally anything else as long as it’s not in the wont list

won’t:

romrem

LAMP

GET TO KNOW ME!!!

———————————————

what’s your favorite color(s)?”

peach, ivory, mango orange, and taupe :)

“why do you only talk in lowercase?”

because i can

“dogs or cats?”

snails

“what’s your favorite holiday?”

i like my birthday!

“are you dating someone?”

nope ;_;

“what’s your favorite object show(s)?”

hfjone, happy star’s gtos, xfohv/the subscriber count, tdos, and the nightly manor

“who’s your favorite sanders sides character(s)?”

logan and c!joan (it may seem like it’s remus but he’s just the funnest to draw)

“why do you take so long to answer art requests?”

i’m lazy (and dried of motivation)

“what’s your favorite pattycake style?”

peppermint patty

“what’s your favorite pokémon?”

mimikyu (basic autism stuff ik)

“oh! do you have autism?”

yep

“what’s your favorite breakfast food?”

bacon

“how do you color your art?”

i make 3 layers. top layer is for outline, bottom layer is for the coloring, and the middle layer is for potential shading or watermarks i may want to remove.

“why did you make a tumblr acc?”

i wanted to post my art on a platform where sanders sides is fairly known and the fandom is stable.

“what’s your favorite book series?”

i don’t like reading :/ if i had to choose one it would probably be the fazbear frights books

“favorite musical artist(s)?”

jack stauber, madilyn mei, tally hall, thomas sanders (if he counts-)

“friends you wanna tag?”

@thegoldenduckie

@not-sure-what-im-feeling

@logan-the-artist

@simply-a-moth

@literallyblanc

@oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat

@darksides-dutchess

@starshard17

@theelectricalcity

(anyone who wants to be added/removed just message me & i’ll do it)

i think that’s all. you know the drill.

drink water, eat a snack, take a shower, brush those teeth, and love yourself so much you can shatter the multiverse with just how much you can say “i love me” and mean it. (that would be funny if that actually happened be the one to do it pls)

seriously though. love you.

🪲🐌🐛🐞

☆………………..…………………

#introduction #intro #intro post #hello tumblr #introductory post #introducing myself #who i am #get to know me #this is an updated intro post since i had like 0 info abt me in my last one LOL

[cinamontoasty]

I've been tagged 🎷🦐

Rules: Pick a song for each letter of your URL then tag the same number of blogs

C - Come with Me by Engelwood

I - Infatuation by Takeoff

N - Never Gonna Give You Up by you know 😉

A - Always You by D-real

M - Move on Up by Curtis Mayfield

O - Old Age by Masego

N - Night Swims by Cookin Soul

T - Teknopathic E-pop 'n' 80s Disco Mix by SEGA SOUND TEAM

O - One Day by Omoinotake

A - Affirmation by George Benson

S - Sleep Deprived by Dreamville

T - Thicc by Remi Wolf

Y - Yas by Polyphia

@peaceful-fall my blog name is too long for this, I'm not tagging a full 13 people lmao

I tag: @sheabeeprime @gayrahim @butt-town @realmsofchaos @miss-mischief-manager @the-real-numbers @violetvenefica @m1lfluvr-900 @goodmird-clevermird

#gestures broadly

[nevermore-ocs]

13 x Plus-Size!Reader-- A Real Woman

Author’s note: EYYYYYY FIRST WRITTEN ONE SHOT FOR 13, and it’s SAUCY AS HELL AT 3.6K WORDS, hope y’all enjoy!!

"Are you kidding me?"

The amount of irritation that filled your body and threatened to explode out of you could put a volcano on the verge of erupting to shame. You picked up the sliver of cardboard that had the black-lettered numbers imprinted on it. It was the right size. It was clear as day. However, when you glanced back at yourself in your long, standing mirror, the (favorite color) fabric very obviously hugged your body and curves in a less than comfortable way, good thing you kept the receipt...somewhere in the bevy of bags you had scattered at the foot of your bed. It was quite frustrating, honestly, the dress was the clothing you were so excited to come home and wear, only to be shot down at the height of your excitement. It was also pretty disheartening, the sight of the dress strained in the more fuller areas, even more so when it was a bit of a struggle to peel the clothing off of your form, just fold it away and take it back, all you could do now. "Darling?" The knocks rang through your head like a loud siren, 13, Remy, you forgot you had told her that showing off your new dress was a surprise for her. She must have gotten impatient and walked to your room from the living room where you left her at, teeming with overwhelming eagerness to see whatever you had in store for her. "Darling, it's been quite some time now, can I come in?" You heard the metal doorknob jiggling with her turning it. "U-Uhhh, one second, Remy!" You called out, silently praying to yourself that she would listen, but knowing your SCP girlfriend, listening when she was this ecstatic was out of the question and wasn't coming back either. "I have to wait longer? But, darling, I want to see you now, I've been waiting far too long!" You could hear the growing need in her voice, and that alone tugged at your heartstrings. Balling up the dress with the tag and the receipt, you snagged one of the bags from the end of your bed and you tossed the items, hurriedly, into it and set the bag to the side, hidden, right in time for Remy to throw the door open. "Hmmmmm? Darling, I thought you were going to show me the new clothes you got, I've seen this underwear pair on you before!" It only now hit you like a ton of bricks that you were stood in front of her, almost fully naked, in nothing but a bra and panties. "But, I adore seeing that perfect body of yours, so this is wonderful as always!" She went up to you, her arms hooked underneath your thighs and she easily hoisted you up into her arms and she kept you pressed against her formally dressed chest. Her lips peppered all over the skin on your face, your lips, the bridge of your nose, and the tip of it too. You, at the very most, attempted to return as many kisses as you could, but Remy, knowing you like the back of her hand, which may have seemed extremely creepy to some, read you like a book. "Darling?" She set you down on the bed, carefully, "What's the matter? Usually, you keep up with all of the kisses I give you! What's going on?" You almost didn't want to answer, mostly out of the fear of Remy going out to the store where you bought the clothes and her just, going on another rampage. Without saying anything, other than letting out an audible sigh, you leaned to the side and grabbed the bag from before by the woven handles and you lifted it, handing it to her.

The bag was empty now, she was looking over the dress and holding it out in front of her to get a good look at it, "It even looks like it'll barely fit me!" She let out an actual growl, it turned into a snarl when she took another look at the tag in her other hand, and in a huff, she stuffed the bag back full. She would have thrown it to the side out of pure angry if it weren't for your hand going onto her arm to stop her. "Remy, it isn't a big deal-! I'll go and return it," she gently-she was always so tender with you as if you were going to break-paused your words by taking a hold of your hands and she knelt onto one knee in front of you as you sat on the mattress. "But still, darling, you sounded so excited when you came back home with this! I can tell when you're troubled, this is an insult from them if anything!" She shook her anger off, for now, and refocused all onto you again, "Tell me, darling, what's wrong? Is it the fact that you paid for it and now you have to take it back?" You let a small smile, albeit with some sadness to it, slip onto your lips listening to her words, your fingers threading through the fluffy, onyx-colored hair she had on her half-shaved head, her eyes fluttered close, her head craning into your open palm and her own wide, sharp-toothed grin spread across her face like a fire spreading through a forest. "Remy, it's, it's not because I paid for it, it's because...." you were dreading to tell her this, out of everything, she despised it when you spoke like this about yourself. "Darling?" She squeezed your hands, "It's because it didn't fit in the first place. That's why I'm upset," the moment that the words dusted from your lips, your lowered your head and silently prepared yourself for a verbal lashing. She stood back up to her feet quite abruptly when she heard that. Her brow furrowed, but a sigh left her lips and she sat down next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping down slightly when she did. "Darling...we had this conversation already, you know your body isn't an issue." She repeated it so much, the words were starting to stay stuck in your head like a mantra you could repeat to yourself and you tried to, honestly, just some days, it was harder than others. "I know that Remy, you tell me every day and I-I appreciate you telling me it's just-" your words got cut off in your throat when one of Remy's fingerless-gloved hands took a hold of your chin, specifically her thumb and index finger. With a gentle tug, she urged your head to turn and face up towards hers and the moment you two locked eyes, you could feel her unnaturally colored eyes boring into your soul in an unwavering, unbreakable gaze. "And I tell you the truth every time I say it." You felt her turning on the bed, you were so fixated on her eyes that you didn't even realize that now, she was facing you. "Darling, your body is...gorgeous. It's perfect," you opened your mouth, to be defiant on your words but she was quicker than you, and she put a finger over your lips, hushing you softly. "It's real, it's beautiful, you aren't some whore who had vulgar things done to it, it's you, it's perfect," her hands went from your head to your shoulders, and cascaded downward in a warm, massaging way. "The way your body fills out my palms when I squeeze you, when I hold you," her words paused momentarily, you felt her hands glide over your hips and when she did, she took a handful of you and squeezed, drawing a gasp out of you and your hands instinctively shot up to her broad shoulders and you held onto her, your fingers digging into the cloth of her navy blue vest. "It's heavenly," the words escaped her lips in a soft, shuddering her breath, feeling your body alone did that much to her, you could feel the excitement resonating from her body by her heavier than normal breathing.

Her hands moved back, they pressed against your lower back and while she motioned you to lay down, she continued to speak, her voice was so low, so addicting, her words flowed into your eardrums and stuck themselves into them like super glue. You, out of all people, knew just how talented she was with words, "Now, lay back, relax," when your body rested against the mattress and your head cradled by the surplus amount of pillows piled up at the head of the bed, she moved up onto her knees above you, her hands moved up and took hold of her bowtie and she untied it, her eyes never breaking from your body. "Let me show you how beautiful you are..." when her bowtie came undone, her vest was unbuttoned quicker than you expect. She leaned down, her hands planted at the sides of your head to keep her elevated above you. "Darling~" The word rolled off of her tongue so smoothly, that time she said it, it sent jolts running rampant through your body before shooting down straight into your core, it made your thighs press together and it occurred to you that she noticed since after that happened, one of those signature wide grins settled onto its usual place on her lips. She began to move her hands up to your bra and your bosom, when they arrived, she hooked her finger around the clip at the front of your bra, however, she paused her movements when she did and waited before she even attempted to undo it. "May I?~" You couldn't the smile that broke out across your face. She always asked. With a nod of your head, you pressed a chaste kiss against her lips before relaxing again, "You may~" the moment the words left your lips, she pulled upwards on the clip and your bra unfastened. Your breasts spilled out of the cups when she pulled the clothing away and set it to the side for whenever you needed it back. Her hands instantly went back up, she cupped both of your breasts and squeezed, drawing a breathy gasp to come from your mouth, "How your body reacts," she started again, her voice was beginning to get drenched in that recognizable, insatiable desire, all for you. "It's otherworldly~ Every breath you take, seeing your breasts rise and lower," she ran her thumb over one of your nipples, teasing the hardening nub with her fifth digit before adding her index finger and she pinched it tenderly, giving it a soft tug too. "It makes my blood boil in the best of ways~ It stirs this, this, want for you," her words drifted off when she leaned closer to your right breast. Her inhumanely long tongue slinked out of her mouth and she dragged a long, wet, lick up your nipple at first, then she closed the distance, her lips wrapped around your breast, and she sucked on it tenderly. You could feel those sharp, dangerous teeth of her grazing against your skin in almost a teasing way as if she was preparing to bite down, but, wasn't going to.

"Remy~ Haaahh~" Your hand, shakily, reached up and your fingers snaked into her fluffy, soft, black hair. You gripped it and gave a soft tug, and in turn, it pulled a low, rumbling growl from the pit of her stomach. You felt the sweet, pleasurable vibrations go through your breast, alongside the suckling from her, and how her tongue flicked across your nipple over and over again. Pulling back, she breathed out quite heavily, panting shortly after, and whilst she did that, her fingers hooked around the edges of your panties, and she tugged downwards. "No, no it's not a want-it's a need~ It's as if I don't get you, if I don't claim you, I can't go on~ You and your perfect body awaken this, almost primal desire for you," she reached downwards to unbuckle her belt, however, this time, you beat her to the punch. Letting hand press against the tent in her slacks, you wrapped your fingers around her restrained, hard cock, and you pumped it a few times. She gritted her teeth, sucking in a soft breath through the gaps, her hips bucked somewhat into your hand at the pleasurable friction, "Can't you see what you do to me, darling?~" She breathed out, "Remy?" You questioned after slipping the black, leather belt out of the belt loops of her slacks, "Don't you feel just how erect you got me?~ I'm throbbing, it's almost uncomfortable in my slacks, haha!~" She took over, taking a hold of the zipper, she pulled it downwards and pushed her loose slacks down with her boxer briefs. She breathed out a low groan of relief when her imprisoned length sprung out from her cloth restraints and stood hard at attention. "You did this, darling~ Your body did this to me, those, mhm, delectable moans and noises you let out~  How your eyes roll back when you get lost in your pleasure," to prove her point, one of her gloved hands made its way to your wet slit, she slid her finger downwards from your clit to your entrance, letting your wetness collect on her digit, then she slid it deep inside of you. It made you moan out quite loudly, and your actions repeated exactly what she had said. Your eyes rolled back, you threw your head back into the pillows and moaned out openly. "Just like that~" Her finger steadily pushed in and out of your slit, her other hand, free as it can be, went to your thighs and kept your legs spread open for her. She caressed it thoroughly, going across the inner part, then moved upwards and across the top of it, then to the outer side, and she gripped tenderly, her fingers digging into your body somewhat, not enough to do any kind of damage though of course.

Pushing her finger into you deeply, she kept it buried inside of the warm, wet crevice, she curled it inward towards her palm over and over again, and her thumb planted gingerly on your clit, and she rubbed it in tantalizingly slow circles, "How soaked you get at my touches, you're a sight people dream about~ That they wished they had~" She continued, watching and taking in the sight of just how you writhed with pleasure on the bed, your fingers gripped and held onto the bed-sheets tightly, if you had the strength she did you were sure to tear through them. "Remy~ Hah~ Anh~ Please, that's so good, I-I had no idea you thought all of that about me~" You managed to get out, taking in that grin she had. "Then I'll always make sure that you do~ And even if you forget, I'll gladly repeat it, I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it, as many times as you want, darling, you are so perfect~" She slowly retracted her fingers from your dripping wet slit, causing you to whimper in a needy way, desperate to feel something of hers to fill you up again. As if right on cue, she began to answer your desires all over again. She slid herself into place, snuggly in between your thighs, and when she did, she placed her hands under your legs, and she moved them until they rested comfortably at her waist. "And darling, seeing you like this, your body burning, the scent of my love's essence pooling out of her and filling my senses, I cannot wait for another moment," her hips adjusted and you could feel the head of her cock brush against your folds, it nudged past them, but she didn't enter you, yet. "I have to take you~" When she leaned over you, you took the chance, your arms hooked around her neck, and you pulled her down to your level. Your lips crashed against hers in a much-needed, deep, passionate lip-lock, your tongue, feeling bold, ran across her bottom lip and she instantly received the message. Her mouth pried open, welcoming your tongue, and it made the kiss deeper, hotter. Your tongue swirled around with her inhumanely long one, it made your legs tighten around her waist, and you felt her hips begin to rock. It made her cock grind against your cock, it gradually gathered your wetness on the length of it, making it slick. "Then take me, Remy~ I need you too, I, God, I need you so badly~"

Hearing you beg was the best music in the entire world to her, better than her favorite song in the same. "Gladly, darling~" She reached down, wrapping her hand around the base of her cock, she lined herself up to your entrance, you felt yourself breathing heavier, preparing yourself for what's about to come. Her hips pushed forward, her slick, hard length slid deep inside of you, her hips pressed up against yours when she easily hilted herself, letting herself be engulfed by the welcoming feeling of your wet, velvety-soft walls hugging around the shape of her cock, "Ooohhhh, darling~ You always feel, mmmm, wonderful~ How you hug around me, no one is as perfect as you, my dear~" She leaned down, and pecked your cheek, "Hold onto me, I don't think I can contain myself anymore, now that I'm," she pulled her hips back, almost sliding herself out all of the way, only to snap her hips forward again and pump her cock deep inside of you. "Inside of you~" Doing what she said, you kept your arms locked around her neck, your fingers clawing at the back of her shirt as she started to thrust in and out of you at a steady, growing pace, her hips slapping up against yours. Her name escaped from your lips in loud moans numerous times, like a mantra, as if it were the only thing you knew, she wasn't as loud, but her low groans, matched with a few quiet, breathy little laughs sent shivers up and down your spine since her mouth was right next to your ear. Your legs wrapped properly around her waist, your heels digging into the spot above her rear, her arms moved down and wrapped themselves firmly around your waist and she clung onto you. Thanks to your legs, it made her thrusts grow faster, her forehead rested against yours, you could see just how red-faced she was, she panting, breathing heavily. "Darling~" She gasped out, it took you a couple of attempts to pry your shut-tight eyes, but when you did, you were greeted with the sight of her red sclera, light grey irised eyes focused onto (eye color) ones, the sight made you feel safe, it made you feel loved, she never scared you or anything like that, it made your heartbeat louder with uncontrollable love all for SCP-013. "I love you, darling, I love you so much~" She had leaned forward, and you, surprising her, leaned forward too and closed the gap in between the both of you for another warm, passionate lip lock, "I love you too, Remy, I, mmhf!~ Hahhn!~ I love you~"

Her thrusts grew faster, more rapid, inconsistent, she was getting close. Her noises got louder than before, her panting started to turn heavier and almost sounded more primal-like due to her mouth being open as it was, "D-Darling I'm, ohhh, I'm so close~ You feel, so, hnh, unf, amazing~" Nodding, as your orgasm was at the precipice, ready to come crashing down and hit you with all the force it had, you pulled her down closer to you, her head next to yours and instantly, she turned it and nestled it into the crook of your neck, placing several kisses all over the side of your neck, along with little bites here and there. She attempted to contain herself, however, after the whole incident with the last bite she did to one of your thighs and almost gave you a heart attack when she lifted her head and she had blood on her lips. "M-Me too!~ Cum, hahh, cum inside of me, Remy, please!~" You could feel her grin against your skin, "I wouldn't want to anywhere else, hnh, anyway, darling~" You laughed breathlessly alongside her, turning your head, you pressed your lips against her cheek and onto one of the swirling, deep tissued scars that spiraled across the exposed side of her face. She pumped and pounded her hips down into yours a few more times and it was that last one that made her hilt herself all of the way inside of you, keeping her hips locked down onto yours. She groaned out loudly, her hips flexed forward with each pump of her cum flowing inside of you, flooding you, she hadn't even begun to pull out when droplets and dribbles of her cum seeped through the gaps of her cock buried deep inside of your slit. She was never too keen on pulling out of you, not that you had a problem with it. "Hopefully," she started, huffing out a much-needed breath, and she hiked herself back up above you, her hands planted on the mattress much like before. When she adjusted herself like that, that damned, large, wide, sharp-toothed grin slid onto her face and made itself at home on her lips.

"That got through to you, darling~ Or....do you need more convincing?~ Trust me, as you know, I can be, hehehe, quite persuasive~"

#oc #my oc #scp #scp 13 #scp: containment breach #scp 013 #SCP-013 #13 #oneshot #fic #writing #my writing #ns//ft #ns//fw #ALSO YES #13'S REAL NAME IS REMY #ITS USED A LOT IN THIS XDDDDD

[d-criss-news]

20 Questions With Darren Criss: How Acting Has Helped Him Make New Music

While Darren Criss has graced our TV screens with a range of characters, from high schooler Blaine Anderson on Glee to serial killer Andrew Cunanan on The Assassination of Gianni Versace, he was last spotted just being himself, on our For You Page on TikTok. “I’m walking to rehearsal with a guitar on my back with a Trader Joe’s bag ... I did not bring an umbrella because I forgot that it was raining. I’m rocking that NYC musician life,” the Glee alum explained in the hilarious clip posted three days ago.

While Criss’ acting work has earned him acclaim and stardom, he leaned into making music during the pandemic. On Aug. 20, he dropped a new EP, Masquerade, featuring five new tracks that Criss says were inspired by the different characters Criss has embraced throughout his career. After Criss wrote songs for his musical comedy web series Royalties and Apple TV+’s animated sitcom Central Park before the pandemic struck the United States, he then used those experiences as a precursor to his new EP. As Criss continues to promote his new music, he answered 20 of Billboard's questions – giving us a peek into how his new EP came together, and how growing up in San Fransisco shaped him as an actor, singer and all-around artist.

1. What inspired your latest project, Masquerade?

Although I would have preferred that it come at a far less grim cost, I finally had the time. Before the pandemic, I had written 10 new songs for my show Royalties -- along with an original song for Disney and another for Apple’s Central Park. These were all assignments in which I was writing for a certain scenario and character. Go figure. It was the most music I had ever written in a calendar year. This really emboldened me to rethink how I made my own music— to start putting a focus on “character creation” in my songs, rather than personal reflection. The latter was not proving to be as productive. The alchemy of having this time and having set a new intention with my own songwriting and producing made me put on a few of my favorite masques and throw myself a Masquerade.

2. How do you think your background as an actor complements your music?

They are one and the same to me. I treat acting roles like musical pieces— dialogue is like scoring a melody; there’s pace, dynamics, cadence, tone. Physical characterization is like producing -- zeroing in on the bass line, deciding on the kick pattern. Vocal characterization is like choosing the right sonic experience, choosing the most effective snare sound, and mixing the high end or low end. It goes without saying that it works in the complete opposite direction. Making each song is taking on a different role literally and employing the use of different masques to maximize the effectiveness of the particular story being told.

3. On Instagram  you wrote that “Masquerade is a small collection of the variety of musical masques that have always inspired me.” Which track do you identify with most in your real life?

Everybody absorbs songs differently. Some key into the lyrics, some into the melody, some the production, some into vocal performance. When I listen to songs, I consider all of their value on totally different scales. So it’s hard to say if there’s any track I “identify” with more than any others, since I -- by nature -- identify with all of them. I think I just identify with certain aspects more than others. If it helps for a more interesting answer, I will say I enjoy the slightly more classical, playful -- dare I say -- more Broadway-leaning wordplay of “Walk of Shame,” but that’s just talking about lyricism. I enjoy the attitude of “F*kn Around,” the batsh--t musicality of “I Can’t Dance,” the relentless grooves of “Let’s” and “For A Night Like This.” All have different ingredients I really enjoy having an excuse to dive into.

4. What’s the first piece of music that you bought for yourself, and what was the medium?

Beatles audio cassettes: “Help” and “Hard Day’s Night.” I just listened on repeat on a tape-playing Walkman until my brother and I got a stereo for our room with a CD player in it, which was  when I just bought the same two albums again, but this time as compact discs.

5. What was the first concert you saw?It’s hard to say, because my parents took us to a lot of classical concerts when we were small. But I guess this question usually refers to what was the first concert you went to on your own volition, and that my friend, was definitely Warped Tour ’01. My brother and I went on our own— two teenagers going to their first music festival, in the golden age of that particular genre and culture. It was f--king incredible.

6. What did your parents do for a living when you were a kid?

My dad was in private banking and advised really, really wealthy people on how to handle their money. My mom was, by choice, a stay-at-home mom, but in reality, she was my dad’s consigliere. They discussed absolutely everything together. They were a real team, and I saw that every single day in the house. They both had a background in finance (That’s how they met in the first place.) and were incredibly skilled at all the hardcore adulting things that I absolutely suck at. They were total finance wizards together. So of course, instead of becoming an accountant, I picked up playing the guitar and ran as far I could with it. Luckily, they were all about it.

7. What was your favorite homecooked meal growing up?

My dad was an incredible chef. For special occasions, I’d request his crab cakes. They were unreal. I’ve never had a crab cake anywhere in the world that was good as my dad’s.

8. Who made you realize you could be an artist full-time?

I don’t know if I’ve actually realized that yet.

9. What’s at the top of your professional bucket list?

The specifics change every day, but the core idea at the top is to continue being consistently inconsistent with my choices, and to keep getting audiences to constantly reconsider their consideration of me. But I mean, sure, what performer doesn’t want to play Coachella? What songwriter doesn’t want to have Adele sing one of their songs? What actor doesn’t want to be in a Wes Anderson film?

10.  How did your hometown/city shape who you are?

San Francisco. I mean, come on. I was really lucky. The older I get, the more grateful I am for just being born and raised there. It’s an incredibly diverse, culturally rich, colorful, inclusive, vibrant city. By the time I was born, it had served as a beacon for millions of creative, out-of-the-box thinkers to gather and thrive. I grew up around that. The combination of that with having parents, who were unbelievably supportive of the arts themselves, laid an incredibly fortunate foundation to consider the life of an artist as a legitimately viable option. It’s a foundation that I am supremely aware is not the case for millions of young artists around the world. I was absurdly lucky.

11.  What’s the last song you listened to?

I mean probably one of mine, but not by choice. I know, lame. But I’m promoting a new EP, what’d you expect? But if you wanna know what I’ve been listening to, as far as new s--t is concerned: a lot of Lizzy McAlpine, Remi Wolf, and Charlie Burg.

12.  If you could see any artist in concert, dead or alive, who would it be?

The Beatles is an obvious "yeah, duh." Sammy Davis, Mel Tormé, or of course, Nat King Cole. I would’ve loved to see Howard Ashman give a lecture on his creative process and his body of work.

13. What’s the wildest thing you’ve seen happen in the crowd of one of your sets?

I feel like just having a crowd at all, at any one of my sets, is pretty wild enough.

14. What’s your karaoke go-to?

The real answer to this I’ll write into a book one day, because I have a lot to say about karaoke etiquette. I have two options here: I can either name a song that I like to sing for me, for fun, or I can name a song that really gets the group going. The answer depends on what kind of karaoke night we’re dealing with here. So I will say, after I’ve selected a ton of songs that services a decent enough party vibe for everyone else, then I would do one for me, and that would be the Beatles’ “Oh! Darling.”

15. What’s one thing your most devoted fans don’t know about you?

What I have up my sleeve.

16. What TV show did you binge-watch over the past year?

Dave is a stroke of genius. There are episodes that I believe are bona fide masterpieces. Also, My Brilliant Friend is a masterclass in cinematic television.

17. What movie, or song, always makes you cry?

It’s A Wonderful Life.

18. What’s one piece of advice you would give to your younger self?

Get used to sharing everything about yourself and your life now, or more astutely, to the idea that you don’t necessarily get to control how your life is shared. I know it’s not really your thing, but you’re gonna have to get used to it, so start building up those calluses now. And don’t worry, all the stuff you love now will be cool again in your mid-thirties, so keep some of those clothes because you’ll be a full-blown fashion icon if you just keep wearing exactly what you’re wearing. Oh nd also, put money into Apple and Facebook.

19.  What new hobby did you take on in the last year?

I’ve always been a linguaphile. My idea of leisure time is getting to study or review other languages. This past year, I took the time to finally dive into learning how to read, write, and speak Japanese. Other than making music, it was one of the biggest components of my 2020-2021.

20. What do you hope to accomplish or experience by the end of 2021?

I hope I get to play live shows again.

#darren criss #billboard #masquerade ep #press #sept 2021

[things-we-used-tc-share]

The Town That Never Was

[Image Description: a long road with decaying plants on either side, with text overlayed that reads ‘the town that never was’ in white. A white icon of a clock is placed underneath the text /end ID]

I’m re-releasing the first four chapters as I’ve edited them! 

Ships: DLAMP/CALMD, Remile. 

Warnings: Cheating is mentioned at some point during this fic in the past, some slight horror themes but in a comedic sort of way, kidnapping is mentioned but again this is like a comedy-horror so there’s not a lot of suspense. 

Plot: In Hell, a town of roughly 1,000 people, nothing that is supposed to happen ever happens and everything that physically should happen, does. Logan, a scientist, goes there in hopes of studying the world’s most unfortunate, and miraculous, town. But no one who ever enters ever finds the will to leave again.

--

Chapter One: The man who can see everything, and the scientist from normality. 

Logan has a habit that mostly includes acting first and thinking about his safety a few hours later, usually when he has a burned hand or a broken bone, and then it’s followed by a “worth it!” as he accepts his own recklessness in favour of science. Today is one of those reckless days. Well, so far it’s been a reckless week (and a reckless life), as he’s been driving for about four days now.

He sees the “Welcome to Hell,” sign that has been overgrown by an abundance of tree roots despite the fact there are no trees for miles. The blue-eyed scientist sighs to himself absently as he gets the foreboding feeling that the next week of his life, should things go the way he planned, is going to be a series of these events and as it stands he has been driving far too long to hop out of his car near sunset to run tests on tree roots that should not exist.

The sun is, by the way, setting far too early for this time of year.

As he gets within the town’s boundaries, his car radio fizzles and automatically tunes into the suddenly only available radio station; Logan assumes this is harmless and simply listens to the soft indie beats that are now playing with no issue. The sky; where the sun is setting, is painted in a brilliant red, whilst the sun itself looks to be a somewhat magnificent ball of fire (which, of course, it is, but it doesn’t usually look literally as a ball of fire, you know, the kind when some idiot in class decides to bring a lighter to school and sets the waste paper bin on fire? yeah, that sort of fire). There are tall, black pylons everywhere, and the buildings seem old and are either wooden or Greek, which is interesting because as far as Logan knows, the ancient Greeks never quite got to America, yet these buildings certainly seem very old. Impossibly old.

He already has an infinitesimal amount of questions, and he’s aware that (as warned) that small pile is going to grow over the course of his stay here.

The music stops playing and a voice tunes in over the static waves of the radio “Welcome back listeners,” The dulcet, deep tones rumble against Logan’s ears and if voices could be a point of attraction then Logan would say this is an attractive voice. “A special welcome to the mildly ominous white economical car that just rolled into town full of what appears to be an impressive amount of science equipment, I don’t know who you are but you are apparently quite handsome, so I’m certainly hoping I’ll know you at some point,” Logan flushes a little and as if the radio presenter could see him, he chuckles. “We’ll run into each other, anyway, to the regular listeners this is your usual news on the town,”

Logan pulls up outside the place he had booked to stay but as he turns off the car he can’t help but lean back to listen to the radio presenter some more. “The sun is on fire, but more so than usual, the police advise you don’t look directly into it, or do, I’m not the boss of you and you can make your own decisions for yourself,” Logan snorts a little, shaking his head full of dark curls “Three strange cult-like figures have appeared in the outskirts of the town, on the west side entrance, they don’t appear to be doing anything but simply standing there, if someone has recently attempted to summon a demon or any otherwise ominous presence, please report it to Roman, our town’s exorcist who will help you deal with this problem, unfortunately until he knows exactly what they are, there is nothing he can do to help, thank you Roman, for being as useless as ever,”

The scientist laughs then and finally turns off the radio, grabbing his bag out of the back amongst a whole load of gadgets as he walks up to the front door. He can hear voices on the other side before the front door is thrown open extravagantly to reveal a young man with unruly dirty blonde curls. Logan, who hadn’t even knocked yet, blinks with a perturbed expression “Hello?”

“Hello!” The stranger replies with a smile a little too wide and hazel eyes a little too bright. “Don’t mind Remy, he turns into a cat when he’s anxious, but come on in!” Logan exhales deeply, cheeks puffing out as he shakes his head. “Oh yes, you’re an outsider, you’re probably not used to Hell standards of weird, sorry,” The man picks up the cat and places him on top of the counter before he moves around the other side “You’re staying for a week, yes?”

“That’s the plan,” Logan chuckles “...but I’m told plans don’t tend to work out here.”

“Oh no, they never do, all rooms are booked for at least a month just in case, I’ve added a few extra days on free of charge, we don’t tend to get many visitors so I doubt they’ll go amiss,” The man scans a keycard through the computer system, it fizzes slightly and he hits the side of it before trying again. “There you go, you’re in room 13,” He hands the keycard over “...and if you need me just ring,” he taps the phone “Phone number is on the bedside table.”

“Thank you....?”

“Oh! Emile, I’m Emile, that’s Remy, he’s not a cat, he just looks like one right now,” Remy blinks two wide golden eyes at Logan, he does certainly look like a cat. “He should be back to normal when he’s finished having a tantrum.” Remy hisses in response. “Have a nice night!”

Logan decides that he’s already reaching his limit with weird and he’s only been here maybe half an hour, although his watch has also mysteriously stopped working so there’s no real way to tell. He puts on his pyjamas, climbs into bed and tries to fall asleep.

It takes him an hour and a half to do so. Roughly.

--

When he wakes up the next morning, and finishes going through the usual human morning routine, he wanders downstairs to find a man who isn’t Emile sat on the chair behind the desk with headphones on. His name tag read “Remy,” and he’s wearing sunglasses inside. Otherwise he’s completely normal; a worn down leather jacket accompanying a black shirt and ripped jeans, hanging off a man who is of normal height and stature for someone in his early 20′s.

“Sorry about being a cat when you got here,” Remy pulls an earphone out to speak, chewing on bubblegum as he does “...me and Emile were having a domestic, how is your room?”

“Adequate,” Logan replies, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “So the turning into a cat thing is that...genetic?” Remy laughs a little and shakes his head.

“In what world would that be genetic?” He kicks his feet off of the table and sits up a little straighter “No, it was a curse.” Logan nods slowly, wondering why one is less likely than the other, and then thinking that he doesn’t want to know why because then he would start thinking like a resident here, and that sounds like a nightmare. “We do have an exorcist, and he’s supposed to really be able to dabble in lots of different type of magic, but so far he’s been unsuccessful.”

The dark-haired scientist recalls the radio presenter from last night “Roman, right?” Remy nods in response.

The door opens then to let in a bright array of sunshine, and Remy scrunches his nose up in distaste, pushing his sunglasses even further up his nose as if that might have been possible. The man that is silhouetted against the door frame looks too bright, but as he speaks, Logan recognises the deep and soothing tone “Good morning, stranger.”

The door closes behind him and the man leans against the wall with a wide grin. His skin is tan, a caramel colour with light blonde hair that has been pushed to the side and back, exposing two-toned golden snake eyes. Logan is starting to regret his journey and coming here at all, and he is certainly not enjoying the way his own heart thunders in his chest, or the slight warmth to his cheeks. Perhaps it’s the sharp angles of the man’s jaw, the snakeskin that covers half of his face, or the gentle radiant glow this man has, but he is...astoundingly beautiful.

Weird shit, Logan can deal with, feelings? Not at all.

“Welcome to Hell, literally, that’s the name of this place. America’s most singularly, scientifically fucked town, where everything that shouldn’t happen, definitely does happen,” The man grins, dark eyes blinking. Logan blinks back, opens his mouth, and then decides he doesn’t have any words in his extensive vocabulary to explain this. “What brings such a handsome young man to the town?”

“Science,” Logan mutters. “I came to investigate the town, scientifically this place is fascinating, a hive of energy that exists nowhere else.” He straightens his lab coat and holds up a device that had been in his hand. “So far I’ve discovered extremely unusual readings, and...” Logan talks, he explains, and the stranger looks at him with an incredibly dopey look.

“Uh-huh,” he mutters as the scientist talks extremely enigmatically, all strangeness and shyness are forgotten as he loses himself in his interest.

“Sorry, I didn’t ask what your name was, I don’t think I caught it last night.” The tan-skinned man smiles softly before shaking his head.

“You didn’t,” Logan doesn’t know how he knows this. “My name is Deceit, but most people call me Dee, I run the radio show,” The scientist smiles and nods, offering a hand for him to shake. Deceit practically purred at the contact to his gloved hand; he can’t help it when someone so pretty comes wandering in, all fair skin and dark hair with such...enticing cobalt eyes, he has to blush a little.

But the moment of bliss is interrupted as the door opens again, slamming behind the second newcomer of the morning. Remy, who clearly does not like having visitors, sighs in annoyance and looks up to a dark-skinned man with long hair and is..dripping in jewellery. The man is holding a book in his hand and he goes to speak before he looks up, only to see Deceit (in which his gaze turns sour) and then Logan (in which his eyebrow quirks, a slow smirk crosses his face and the book snaps shut in his hand). “Remy,” The stranger has an accent that sounded to be somewhat partially American. “You have a visitor?”

The cat-like man sighs. “It would appear I have quite a few,” he unplugs the other earphone and tosses them on the table “What do you want, Roman? I told you at this point this curse isn’t that bad, plus Emile finds it harder to shout at me when I’m knee-high to a grasshopper and fluffy,”

That would be some sound logic, Logan thinks to himself, ...if he were not talking about turning into a cat. “That’s fine, there is clearly someone much more interesting to talk to,” The elegant man holds out a hand and wears a grin that is almost a little too revealing. 29 years of not being flirted with and today it happens twice one straight after another.

“As if your two boyfriends weren’t enough Roman, you hop on the poor fresh meat like he’s dessert,” Deceit cuts in, a displeased look on his face as he folds his arms across his chest.

“He certainly looks like dessert,” Roman retorts. Logan thinks blushing is going to become a hobby whilst he’s here and looks over at Remy for help.

“Dee, don’t you have a radio show to host? Roman, don’t you have a demon to maintain? Logan I have no idea what you’re here to do but I’m sure it’s more than being the ruler in a dick-measuring contest between two insufferable assholes.” There’s a beat. Roman has the audacity to blush as if he hadn’t been saying some fairly explicit things by Logan’s standards, but a moment ago.

“Oh well, I’m here too...”

“Logan, dear, you’re cute, but I spent an entire night as a cat, and my better half, who is, by the way, all of my patience and will to listen to other people, is at work, right now I’m as bitchy as I can get, please don’t try and explain to me science unless it’s the science of how to make a coffee so strong my heart will stop...” Remy’s glasses slide down his nose, revealing two bright gold cats eyes, and they narrow as they stare at Logan. “All of you, out.”

“I’ll bring you a coffee, Rem,” Roman mutters as he starts towards the door.

“Thanks, Roman.” He doesn’t sound very thankful at all.

--

Roman offers to show Logan around town, he asks about the device in the scientist’s hand but anything he says is completely lost on the bejewelled man. Who is, by the way, wearing a lot of jewellery. His hands are covered in rings that have thin chains hanging from them, connecting to bracelets or each other. His nose, lip and eyebrows are pierced twice and the entire left side of his ear has small chains hanging off of them.

He looks like a prince.

“This is the coffee shop, my boyfriends both work here, and they live upstairs too, fair warning, one of them is a demon,” Logan nods a little numbly, unsure what else he was expecting really. Does anything normal happen in this town at all?

They walk in to see a scrawny and sickly pale man behind the counter, to the point where Logan would worry about anaemia until he saw the veins that were completely onyx running underneath the skin. The demon, then. “Welcome to Hell’s Pat-isserie, what may I get you?” His voice sounds bored, but then he looks up and sees Roman and his face lights up.

“Just a latte please,” Logan smiles nervously.

“That will be the cost of your soul please,” The demon’s voice darkens and shakes like lightning, Logan has to admit he felt a slight spike of fear before both the pale man and Roman start laughing.

“Virgil I keep telling you to stop doing that!” Logan looks up at the sound of a new voice, only to inhale sharply by what he’s greeted with. A man, with soft, freckled cheeks and a round face that has so clearly smiled so much, bounces up with stray blonde curls falling around his face. He bats a tea towel at the demon (Virgil, Logan assumes), before fixing Logan with a wide and blinding smile.

Blushing is indeed becoming a hobby.

“Roman, you’re late, help me with the coffee machine won’t you love? It’s jammed again the stupid bloody thing.” The man’s voice is as soft as his appearance dictates, and he hands the tea towel to Roman, who vaults over the counter to help. Then his attention focuses on Logan and he’s not entirely sure his heart can handle those pale blue eyes. “Sorry about these two, they’re a handful, just a latte was it? That’ll be $3.50,” Logan hands over the money with a dazed expression. As he’s handed his change, he can’t resist asking.

“What’s your name?”

“Patton, you?”

“Logan.” Patton smiles again, and Logan can’t help but liken it to the first flowers blooming in spring, and other cheesy metaphors that people come up with when they think about love at first sight.

“Well, Logan, take a seat, and we’ll bring your coffee over shortly,” A pause “...and thanks for keeping Roman out of trouble, it’s practically his day job,”

The scientist can’t help but absently think he’d hold back an inconclusive amount of danger to see Patton smile again. Then he reminds himself that he has a job to do; even if the rate of his own heart around these men is the strangest thing that has happened to him since he arrived in Hell. He can't afford diversions.

#ts sides #ts sides fic #CALMD #dlamp #CALMD/DLAMP

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Can Be - Chapter Eighty Four

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

November 27th, 2000

Remy was ready to punch a wall. His parents made him so furious sometimes. Forcing him to change his major if he went back to school?! If he could drop the rest of his family and only stay in contact with the good ones, he would. He loathed accounting, and that would drive him faster to suicide than taking literally anything else at college would.

He took a breath and made sure he had everything ready to go back to school. He met Toby in the hallway and gave him a hug. “You’d better keep in touch,” Remy playfully threatened.

“Cross my heart and hope to die, I’ll call your number and make sure we have each other’s details,” Toby swore. Then, more quietly, “Now go trick our parents and drop out of college.”

  March 28th, 2003

Emile came back down the stairs finding Toby looking like he was about to cry, and Remy not that far off, either. “You two seem very intent on having a crying session without me,” he noted, taking the last available space on the couch.

Remy rolled his eyes. “Toby was asking about the stuff with my— our mother.”

“Ah, yeah, nevermind,” Emile said. “I totally understand that.”

“I don’t,” Toby said, furrowing his eyebrows, and Emile blinked, because there was so much of freshman Remy in that action, the man who didn’t understand why what his parents were doing was controlling and wrong.

Remy coughed. “Well. Turns out that a lot of the stuff we dealt with that initially doesn’t look like abuse was, in fact, a type of abuse,” he said awkwardly. “So like, not only was Mom stalking me wrong, but so was her taking Bones and any other toy she thought I had outgrown. Same with the toys she took away from you. There’s other stuff, but that’s like...the obvious things.”

“What are the not-so-obvious things?” Toby asked, looking between Remy and Emile.

“Uh...” Remy, for once, looked speechless.

“Things like temporarily taking away toys that brought you a sense of security or comfort,” Emile said. “Or denying you food when you’re hungry when you broke a rule. Remy has told me both of those things have happened. And corporal punishment has started to be studied, and it seems to be less effective than most parents think it is.”

Toby looked stunned. “But that wasn’t...? No, I mean...”

“You may not have seen it as such, but that is abuse,” Emile said gently. “Even if they gave the toys back, even if you eventually got to have dinner, even if the punishment was ‘only’ a spanking. Those are all forms of abuse.”

“Jesus Christ,” Toby said, paling. “You’re serious.”

“He’s always serious about trauma,” Remy said with a weak smile. “It’s one of the things that I had to learn to love about him, because he had this conversation with me before, over the course of literal years, but he has taught me that I deserve better. And now I actually believe it.”

Toby ran his hands through his hair. “Oh my God,” he said simply. “I...wow. I’m...How do I keep in contact with them after this?”

“You don’t have to,” Emile pointed out. “You always have the choice to say no.”

“No, but...Vanessa...Vanessa deserves to know too...” Toby swallowed. “She—how do I tell her, I only ever see her at our parents’ house and I don’t want her to repeat their mistakes...she’s been talking about kids, recently, when she finds a husband.”

Remy shrugged, looking about as hysterical as Toby sounded. “You would know better than I do, Tobes, I haven’t had contact with anyone from our family for years.”

Toby ran a hand down his face. “Yeah, I know...Nate and Magenta have been worrying themselves sick.”

Emile figured it might be time for a distraction, so he asked, “Those two are twins, right? How did one of them get the misfortune of being called Magenta?”

“Oh.” Toby laughed. “Vanessa nicknamed him that when they were babies. Because to tell the twins apart, their parents put magenta nailpolish on his big toe. Bear in mind, she was also really little. But she’d call Nate his name, and she’d call Percy—that’s his real name—Magenta. And it stuck throughout the family, and he never complained, so we all just sorta...rolled with it.”

“He didn’t get called that at school,” Remy hurried to add. “He’d get called that at family reunions, but his own family, for the most part, calls him Percy.”

“Ah, good. I was worried there for a minute,” Emile said, clearing his throat.

They sat there in silence for a minute, before Remy kicked his feet over Emile’s legs and laid his head in Toby’s lap. “Toby, I’m bored,” Remy whined.

Emile laughed at the shock on Toby’s face. Toby looked over to Emile. “Remy said I have you to thank for this.”

“Yeah,” Emile laughed. “I would say sorry, but you don’t look upset.”

“Upset? I’m ecstatic!” Toby exclaimed. “My baby brother has emotions! I thought those all shrivelled up and died in high school! But you revived them! I can’t thank you enough!”

“I’m still here!” Remy exclaimed.

“Yep,” Emile said, grabbing Remy’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “And we both love you more than words can say.”

“Ugh. You’re sappy,” Remy grumbled.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” Emile pointed out.

Remy sighed. “This is true,” he admitted. “But you know how weird it is to have people talking over your head like you don’t exist?”

“Sorry, Rem,” Emile laughed. “But to be fair, you complaining you’re bored doesn’t really add much to the conversation.”

Remy stuck his tongue out at Emile and Emile laughed, sticking his out back. Toby looked between them fondly. “You two really are in love,” he said, sounding a little awestruck. “I think the two of you might ruin dating for me by the time this long weekend is over. Because none of my relationships are quite as good as what you two have.”

“Aw, you’ll find someone if you want to, Tobes,” Remy said. “I don’t doubt that.”

“Maybe I will, but I doubt I’d ever be in love the way the two of you are. It’s something else,” Toby said.

“Well, Emile is kinda the reason I believe in soulmates now, so...” Remy shrugged.

“Soulmates, yeah,” Emile laughed. “Listen. I let you be sappy, Remy, but you wanted absolutely nothing to do with me in the beginning of us getting to know each other. I dragged you into interpersonal relationships kicking and screaming—one time quite literally.”

“That was because of the bubbles, not because of the relationships!” Remy said, pointing accusingly at Emile. “Patty used far too many bubbles and I did not want to be seen blowing bubbles like a child when I was still trying to figure out who I was in the world!”

“Whatever you say, Rem,” Emile said, snickering.

“Bubbles?” Toby asked, arching an eyebrow. “There’s a story there.”

“Not a long one,” Emile said. “My friend Patty was—mmph!” He was cut short by Remy surging upwards and kissing Emile passionately. When Remy was done, he leaned back and Emile was sitting there dazed, blinking. “What were we talking about?”

“Nothing, darling,” Remy said, before Toby could say anything else.

Emile blinked and readjusted his glasses. “I thought it was something,” he mumbled. “Ah, Toby, are you weirded out by PDA?”

“Bit late to ask that,” Toby laughed. “But no. I’m just annoyed that Remy cut short an embarrassing story by kissing you roughly enough for it to get an R-rating at the movies.”

“Anything remotely gay gets an R-rating at the movies, Tobes,” Remy scoffed.

“Okay, I was thinking in straight-couple standards, though,” Toby said.

“Were a straight couple to do what I just did, it would be PG-13 at worst,” Remy said, pointing at Toby.

“Agree to disagree?” Toby proposed.

“Oh, hell no. You agree with me or I go all out in proving my point,” Remy said, staring Toby dead in the eye as he declared this.

“Those are fighting words,” Toby said, getting a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before Emile could ask what was going on, Toby grabbed Remy around the torso and ripped him off the couch, spinning them both around roughly. Remy screeched, before bursting into peals of laughter. “Ah! Toby! Let me down!”

“Not until you agree with me!” Toby exclaimed.

“Toby! I’m gonna puke! Lemme go!” Remy screamed.

“Boys, you’re going to put a hole in the wall!” Emile exclaimed, going over to Toby and holding him by the shoulders.

Toby was laughing and red in the face, while Remy looked a little green. “Hey, Rem, why don’t you grab that disposable camera we’ve got and the photo album? I think this deserves a new photo.”

Remy lightly shook his head and stood on wobbly legs. “Ugh, gimme a minute, first.”

Toby looked worried. “Oh, you were serious about puking?”

Remy blearily nodded.

“Shit, Rem, I’m sorry,” Toby said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Remy said. “‘S fine.”

“Hey, Remy, no,” Emile reminded him. “You’re allowed to set boundaries.”

“Hm?” Remy hummed. He staggered over to the couch. “Is that a boundary? I don’t think that qualifies.”

“Uh, that definitely qualifies,” Emile said.

Remy did some deep breathing before looking up at Toby. “I’d appreciate if we kept the spinning to a minimum.”

“Yeah, of course,” Toby said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry.”

Remy nodded and leaned back, before standing and saying, “I’m getting the camera. Emile, don’t kill him while I’m gone.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Emile said simply.

As soon as Remy left, Toby whispered, “How much did I screw up?”

Emile pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not badly. Remy and I have been working on boundaries off and on for a while. Just needing a refresher doesn’t mean you screwed up. He’s just nervous to set up boundaries with someone he looks up to.”

Toby swallowed. “He...looks up to me?” he asked.

“A hell of a lot,” Emile confirmed. “He talked about you all the time.”

Toby blew out a breath. “Oh, God,” he breathed. “I don’t want him falling into any bad habits again by reasoning that I do them.”

“I doubt he would,” Emile said. “He just hates saying ‘no’ sometimes, and to certain people. You’re on that list. I’m on it, too. It just means we have to be more careful than we otherwise might be.”

Toby shook his head. “God. I’m glad I came, but this suddenly got a lot more scary.”

“I wouldn’t sweat it, Toby. Just be yourself. And if either Remy or I call you on something, try not to take it personally. You were raised by the same parents he was. I’d appreciate it if both of you were healthy about approaching things. So I might make a gentle nudge or two. It’s not the end of the world, it just means there are things to work on,” Emile said. “And I won’t try to therapist you. Just let you know, ‘Hey, that sort of thinking isn’t the best,’ or ‘Maybe you should go easy on yourself.’ It’s not the end of the world if something goes wrong.”

“That’s something I have to remind myself of every day,” Toby said with a weak laugh.

Emile smiled sadly. “Yeah. Me too.”

Remy came back down the stairs. “You didn’t threaten to eat Toby if he messed up, right?” he asked, pointing at Emile.

“Cross my heart he didn’t,” Toby said.

“Yeah, I actually let him know he could mess up and we wouldn’t kick him out,” Emile said.

“Good. Because if you did anything else, I just might have had to kill you,” Remy laughed.

Emile shook his head fondly. “No, you wouldn’t,” he said. “Although I don’t think injury to my person would be entirely out of the question.”

Remy rolled his eyes and said, “Duh.”

“How many pictures does that thing take?” Toby asked.

“Uh,” Remy looked at it. “Thirty. We’re down to sixteen. Why?”

“I brought my digital camera,” Toby said. “It was a bit of an expensive investment, but it’s been paying off. I would love to get some more pictures with you guys after this one, but we don’t have to wait for all of them to develop and mail them. Although, I will probably periodically mail you guys pictures just because, and Christmas cards would be a delight.”

“Oh, I was expecting you’d come over here at Christmas,” Remy said.

“Provided I can convince our parents I’m not seeing you, of course I can. But the way Mom bragged about stalking you? I’m unsure if I want to take that chance.”

“We can always celebrate New Year’s and Remy’s birthday and Christmas at once,” Emile offered with a shrug. “Come over the thirty-first, it could be fun.”

“Oh, of course!” Toby exclaimed.

“Picture now, future plans later!” Remy interrupted. “I want a picture where I’m genuinely smiling for the album!”

Toby laughed and Emile grinned. They gathered around Remy and Remy held the camera up and out, pressing the button as all of them grinned. “Here’s hoping that turned out well,” Remy said, putting the camera down.

“Don’t worry, if it didn’t, I’ll just take a dozen more,” Toby laughed.

Remy grinned and Emile realized this weekend was just what all of them needed.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

[roseamongroses]

W.A.L: “Devil’s Food” (23)

s u m m a r y

Eden was the lowest of the low, a monster, hardly human, and was set to be executed. Roman was on trial, perpetually stuck in time until it was time to atone for his families sins.Neither cared much for staying trapped.So when a Stranger offered freedom, offered peace, offered power, it was hard to say no.Even if it put them on the wrong side of history.

v i b e s

time is irrelevent, homophobia who?, magic and beasts, demigods

w a r n i n g s

Imprisonment, Mentions of execution, Blood/ injuries,  Mentions of past Death, repression, cursing, some  dissociation

c h a r a c t e r s

Deceit(Eden) Sanders, Remy Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Emile Picani, Elliot, Kai, Lauren, Dot

Ship: Roceit

1) (2)   (3)  (4) (5)

(6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)

(12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17)

(18) (19) (20) (21) (22.1) (22.2)

---

“Janus,” Roman slurred his name, half awake and slumped against Deceit.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary by any means, but somehow something was different in a way he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Maybe it was how their sleep-rough voice was so much more vulnerable, the magic laced in his tone more-so an innocent suggestion than a command.

Or perhaps Deceit was drawn to Roman’s blatant display of trust--how his oversized sleeping shirt was carelessly hiked up revealing how Roman’s freckles grew into swirls and smears that shaped his abdomen into something distinctly inhuman--as if the forest had been branded across their skin. Maybe it was the way Roman’s legs pressed into Deceit--skin a never-ending furnace, maybe...

But none of that was new.

And this--whatever this was, clearly was new because--

“Janus, what time is it?” Roman yawned, arching his back before sighing into the comically large pillows again.

Somehow Deceit found it the most distracting thing in the world. Sleeping with Roman had never been suggestive, at least not in any serious way. And even if Roman had gotten into one of his moods, Deceit was pretty comfortable with ignoring any fleeting attraction he felt.

Then again, it was easy to kill desire when you were constantly reminded why you never deserved it to begin with.

“What?” Roman sniffed, sitting up and pulling the blanket around his shoulders.

“It’s near noon,” Deceit answered instead, “The brats have that competition today...” he eyed Roman cautiously as they seemed to nod off, “Are you good for today?”

“‘Mmm good,” Roman nodded, smile sleepy, “I feel really good,”

Deceit leaned against the headboard, “Are you…” he narrowed his eyes, “drunk?”

“Mmm, my Sanders genes are too strong-- can’t get drunk,” Roman said, slinking back into the bed, “But the room... it’s really quiet here… ” he sighed, “Are you sure we can’t stay in?”

“And do what?” Deceit entertained.

Roman looked up through half-lidded eyes, “I have a few ideas,” he purred before bursting out into snickers.

“I’m waking up the brats,” Deceit said, rolling his eyes when Roman whined in protest, “Attempt to be dressed when I get back,” he slid out of the bed, making his way to the door that connected the rooms.

After gently waking up Elliot and not so gently dragging Lauren and Kai out of the bed, Deceit made his way back to their bedroom. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Roman did indeed get dressed. The simple, white turtleneck elaborate, frilly skirt a stark difference to the military blazer, embroidered with gold from the night before.

While Roman messed with his hair, Deceit inspected the different outfits pulled out for him, “Got any preferences?” he asked, picking at a black dress.

At this point Roman had put his hair up into twin-buns, slicking back his edges, , “Maybe a more traditionally feminine shift?” he mused, turning from the mirror to give Deceit a considering look.

Deceit nodded, letting his features soften and round out, but he kept his hard line of muscles. Pushing the longer hair behind his ear, he tugged off his clothes and picked up the dress, quickly realizing the simple dress had a trail of gold laces and buttons trailing it's spine. Not completely intimidated, Deceit unbuttoned it, but upon sliding the dress on, he realized he wouldn’t be able to reach all of the buttons.

Roman caught on to Deceit’s struggle quick, “Let me,” he said, slipping behind Deceit. His hands reached inside the dress, barely skimming Deceit’s skin as he pulled on some ties on the inside and started lacing Deceit up.

“Why are clothes so complicated,” Deceit complained, keeping his face straight.

Roman pulled the dress taunt, “I mean...” his hand rested on Deceit’s waist as he leaned down slightly, breath brushing Deceit’s ear, “It does look so good on you,”

Deceit shivered, “You…” he cleared his throat, “You’ve been teasing a lot this morning.” he said, keeping his voice steady.

Roman immediately pulled his face away, “Is it a problem?” he asked. Even though he didn’t remove his hand, Deceit knew for a fact that all he had to do was ask and it’d be gone. It’d be so easy, so simple, but--

“No,” Deceit said, “I don't mind….I….I didn’t want to give you the wrong idea,”

Deceit could feel them staring, “...Of course,” Roman finally said after a while, starting to button the dress without further question. Still, something about his tone was too gentle. He was too close and yet, Deceit couldn’t push them away.

He could do so easily before, but now…

Deceit distinctly felt his little wants grow into something too strong to ignore.

---

Compared to other wonders found at The Offerings, the room hosting the competition for the younger Apprentices was oddly mundane. It was a disorienting mixture of too-bright fluorescent lights and the squeaking of sneakers.

Kai rushed past the unassuming attendant holding a clipboard, his energy palatable. Elliot followed after, ducking into the bleachers.

Lauren walked behind the two distractedly talking to Roman, “It’s just so boring, why does there need to be an entire chapter about white symbolism,”

Roman followed after, “I don’t--” he stopped abruptly, clipboard blocking his way.

“Only mentors are allowed to enter,” The attendant said, not looking up.

Deceit stiffened, ignoring Roman’s tightening grip, “Excuse me?”

“I said--” The Attendenet looked up and sputtered, wide-eyed, “Uh- You’re the Heir,”

“Yes, yes he is,” Lauren said, eyes narrowed, “Can they come in now? It's starting soon”

The Attendant ignored her, “I’m sorry, sir,“ he didn’t sound sorry, but at least he had the decency to sound afraid, “I still can’t let you in unless you’re a mentor and um… you’re not a mentor. ”

Roman fixed on a polite smile, “Can I ask why?”

“No you can’t--” The attendant froze. Roman wasn’t sure what Deceit did, but it certainly got the attendant to talk, “Uh, sorry it's just-- it’s to prevent councilmen from poaching on each other’s Apprentices-- I really can’t let you in. It ends at 5 though, so you can come back then?” the words rushed out all at once, as they shrunk behind their clipboard.

“Of course,” Roman said, eyes redirecting to Lauren, “Be good.”

“Sure,” Lauren grumbled, making her way to the bleachers.

Seeing that Lauren found Elliot, Roman tugged Deceit along back to the staircase.

“What a shame,” Roman sighed, “I wanted to see if Kai got himself kicked out,”

“I could convince him to let us in,” Deceit said.

“We wouldn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention,” Roman retorted, head conveniently tilted in the direction of a video-only security camera, “Plus, you’re dead, remember?”

“That only means I’d be harder to trace,” Deceit said, contemplatively and Roman laughed.

The two wandered around, peeking into rooms that ranged from sprawling parks to more… intimate spaces. Roman had only vaguely mentioned what he was looking for, but Deceit was content with exploring.

Exploring the shape of Roman’s hand in his, their slender fingers light to the touch and unnaturally smooth. Exploring how their pin-straight posture hardly faltered and how even their most graceless steps still had poise. How in the light their eyes weren’t simply silver, but always had a barely perceptible shifting shimmer of colors. And his lips-- Deceit could never get their lips right.

He could never get Roman right, at least not by himself. It was always evasive, something more ethereal then simply copying the paleness in their eyes and the dimples in their smile.

The one time he’d gotten close was when he was prepping for the Duel. Roman spent most of the night correcting Deceit’s errors until he could replicate every feature with near perfection. He remembered how Roman coaxed his magic into something far too significant for Deceit to even imagine and how this mimicked magic burned deep, an endless coil that was never satisfied.

Roman had been worried about how long Deceit could handle maintaining the illusion, Deceit had been worried if he’d ever wanted to stop.

It hadn’t been the first time he had been lost in the allure of becoming, but this was different. Beforehand, it was a cheap trick The Stranger taught them. A throwaway spell, a stupid game if you will. Switch faces, switch lives, and for a little while, Deceit got to play the prized son, adopted from the streets and raised with love while Eden got to play at being invisible.

Even when those damn vials got involved, it never felt this dangerous. Deceit understood that now. By himself, he could take the shape, he could take it all eventually--the voice, its cadence and accent, how they smile, how they laugh. But Roman’s influence made the illusion real--he made it believable with little corrections that stood as commands themselves.

They worked well together. Too well.

The Stranger had wanted them to be close. That asshole had always wanted Deceit to keep an eye on Roman, to tend to Roman, as if trying to enforce control over something that didn’t need to be controlled. It was too intentional and Deceit didn’t like that one bit.

Deceit would uphold his part of the agreement of course. He’d be The Stranger’s glorified dog, who kneels and growls when told, who lies until there’s nothing left. But that didn’t mean he had to let The Stranger influence his relationship, even if they ended up at the same place in the end.

It scared him a lot; this desire, this love, but what scared him more was the prospect of it no longer being his to choose.

---

Roman had found the library with a few hours to spare before the competition ended. He had wandered away from Janus after awhile, scanning titles in the Foreign Language section with a critical gaze.

He’d been trying to work out Janus’s accent for a while now. Sure he could just ask, but Roman liked the thrill of investigation and he loved the thrill of being right.

Right now he figured that Janus had lived in Italy for a little while-- seeing as whenever they spoke Spanish it was always just a little off in either vocabulary or how they pronounced words. Roman also suspected a few others like Romanian and German, but right now he was looking into Slavic languages.

He spotted a set of translation books near the top shelf and pulled up a chair--and when that wasn’t enough, he stacked another chair on top of that chair. He wasn’t short but compared to other Drak’on’s you could argue he was stunted. Still, even with his heels and the chairs the bookshelves in this library were freakishly big.

Roman briefly considered untucking his shirt so his wings could help out, but before that could be a thing he stumbled trying to catch the book while simultaneously forgetting to keep his balance. However, before Roman hit the ground two steady hands caught his waist.

“Can’t I leave you alone for two minutes?” Janus murmured, raising an eyebrow.

Roman grinned sheepish, leaning back against their chest, “It isn’t recommended,” he said half dazed. “You can…” Roman squirmed in their grip, “You can let me go now,”

“I’ll consider it,”.

“What do you mean you’ll--” Roman squawked as Janus scooped him up, “Janus,” Roman pouted, “Lemme goo-,”

“I thought you liked being carried?” Janus mused, making his way down the aisle.

“I…” Roman slumped defeated, “Shut up,” he groaned, pointedly watching the carpet as Janus carried them past the rows and rows of books to a smaller alcove nestled in the back. Upon seeing the stack of books already there, Roman squirmed out of Janus’s shoulder falling into the pile of pillows, “Aw you picked out my favorites,”

Janus settled next to Roman, “You gave me a list,” he said, dry.

Roman thumbed the spine of Alice in Wonderland, “You follow directions wonderfully,” he shrugged, “Did you see anything you liked?”

“I don’t read for fun,”

Roman blew out his cheeks, “I never said it had to be a book,” he huffed, leaning against Janus’s shoulder, “There’s plenty of stuff around here, I’m sure you could find something for a souvenir,”

Janus frowned, “....Souvenir?” he echoed.

Roman paused, briefly confused before realization hit, “A keepsake, memento if you will,” he tried to articulate, “Something... physical to remember this place.” Janus nodded in understanding, “So did you have anything in mind…?”

For a split second, Janus’s face was unbearably soft before it smoothed into hardened resolve, “I do,” he said, vaguely, but before Roman could question them further, he had grasped Roman’s chin, drawing their full attention, “Kiss me?”

Roman’s mind short-circuited, “What…” he frowned, “ Can you what?”

“I want to kiss you,” Janus said slowly, “Is that okay?”

“Yes…” Roman stuttered, “Of course it is, but…” he didn’t want to ask, but he had to, “Would it just be a one-time thing? I’d still care about you, but I don’t think I could..it’d be…”

Too much.

Janus’s answer was to close the distance.

The kiss was tentative-- brief, but terribly gentle, “I want this,” he promised, brushing a stray curl from Roman’s face, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I want you, I enjoy being with you. I wouldn’t play with that.”

“Then…” Roman bit his lip, ”Why now?” he asked, voice small, “I thought you couldn’t…”

“I’m not used to being wanted,” Janus admitted, and Roman looked up startled, “And when I was wanted it never meant something good, it still doesn’t, but...” he sighed, “Before….It was easy. I could walk away from everything and not have any reason to go back, but,” He blushed, “I can’t walk away now and I certainly can’t pretend everything I feel is platonic I just...I want to choose you. Again and again and again.”

Roman didn’t say anything for a while.

Roman’s face was one of quiet contemplation that slowly melted into a cat-like satisfaction as he leaned in close, fingers hooking into the top of Janus’s dress as he pulled him into a kiss. He kissed Janus like the world was going to end and Janus returned the favor, letting the burning wrap around him, not caring if they ever let go.

And when Roman finally did, breathing heavy with smudged lipstick and ruddy cheeks, Janus kissed him again. And again. And again. And again.

#ts sides #roceit #ts roman #ts deceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #Winners Among the Losing

[take2intotheshower]

Blindspot Fandom “Meet and Greet” #4

1.      Name/Nickname:  Heather                  

2.      Age* (don’t be shy, we’re a fandom of grandmas):  Old enough to remember when we had to record our favorite shows on VHS tapes if we were unable to watch live

3.      Where are you from*:  England

4.      When did you jump aboard the Blindspot madness:  Early 2015, before the Pilot aired (I’d heard Sully was to star in it, so I was avidly following all the news in the media)

5.      Other fandoms you’re in/TV shows you watch:  Strike Back (the Scott & Stonebridge years), although it’s not really a fandom any more. Shows currently watched: Lost (still making my way through - now on the final Season), Ransom, Lucifer, The Librarians (S1 - not sure yet if it’s fun or just childishly silly), Killing Eve, The Code (only a few more eps to go as it’s been cancelled), Hawaii 5-0, Strike Back (the new incarnation), Berlin Station, Billions. Really enjoyed The Umbrella Academy and Good Omens.    

6.      Favorite Blindspot characters (main):  Kurt Weller, Remi, Patterson, Rich Dotcom, Roman

7.      Favorite Blindspot characters (guest or recurring):  Matthew Weitz, Boston Arliss Crab, Jake Keaton, Allie Knight

8.      Favorite ship(s):  Jeller and Patterson-David

9.      Favorite episode(s):  1-01, 1-02, 1-05, 1-09, 1-21, 2-01, 2-10, 2-14, 2-15, 2-19, 2-21, 3-01, 4-05, 4-07

10.  Favorite season(s):  S1 (it was S2 last time but, with our re-watch, S1 has edged ahead again)

11.  Favorite tattoo(s)/case(s):  Still the bird on the neck, plus the way it linked to the box and new tattoos in 2-22

12.  Favorite whatever you want:  Favorite outfits - Kurt’s unbuttoned shirts in S1, Jane’s tank tops, Zapata in just about anything (but especially her S1 look), Patterson’s dress sense in S4 (but the makeup is too heavy now), Rich wearing anything

13.  If you were a Blindspot character, who would you be: I’m probably more of a Reade-Patterson mix, but I’d like to be Kurt for his leadership but with Jane’s skills

14.  One scene that left you with your jaw on the floor:  Because we just re-watched it, that moment in 1-10 when Remi tells Jane it was her idea and that she did it to herself  

15.  One dead character you would bring back:  Roman - I miss him

16.  One guest star (who has appeared in less than three to five episodes) you want to bring back:  Ana Montes

17.  One recurring character you’d love to have promoted to regular:  Jake Keaton (fascinating how he’s gone from despised villain to a reliable ally of the team)

18.  One actor/actress you would love to have guest star on the show (and who would they play):  I’d had high hopes of Kurt’s Mom, played by someone like Cheryl Ladd. Now it would have to be Ennis Esmer’s real-life Dad, Demir Esmer, playing himself  

19.  One forgotten storyline you wish they’d bring back or answer: What really happened the night Taylor Shaw was killed  

20.  One country you want the show to visit next season:  Canada (or Australia)

21.  What’s your craziest/favorite theory about the upcoming season:  An unlikely set of allies made up of Weitz, Keaton and Allie Knight will join together to support our team on the run and help them clear their names (I’m deliberately not including Brianna, as she has 3 failures vs 1 success to her career so far). Then all the team except Reade and Zapata will leave the FBI and everyone will live happily ever after, while leaving a smidgeon of an opening to bring them back if a streaming service shows interest in picking up the show. But please, MG - don’t let’s have Jane discovering she’s pregnant at the end. Too corny, and Jeller are owed some uninterrupted time together  

22.  Share a little bit about yourself (don’t be shy)*:  I am deeply into medieval history, worked in the City of London for many years, and I like furry animals, sports cars and chocolate

#Blindspot #BSHiatusProject #BSMeetandGreet

[dr-gloom]

Spookmonth Fics Masterpost

Read them all here on AO3

Simply Meant to Be - Day 1 

Summary:  Virgil really loves Halloween, and parties. Especially Halloween parties. Patton really loves Virgil.

Ship: Moxiety

Tags/Warnings:  Human AU, costumes, Virgil is non-binary, Remy is genderfluid, hence the costume

This is Halloween (Everybody Make a Scene) - Day 2 

Summary:  Patton really wants to go trick-or-treating and manages to convince his boyfriends, but not everyone is as enthusiastic as him about the idea of adult trick-or-treaters.

Ship: LAMP/CALM

Tags/Warnings:  genderfluid Patton, Nightmare Before Christmas all over the place, I’m not sorry, some anxiety but let’s be honest I can’t write anything with Virgil without him freaking out at some point, mean suburban mom, can anyone feel my distaste for the suburbs yet?, Human AU

The Pumpkin King - Day 3 

Summary:  Halloween is coming up and Patton wants to carve pumpkins with his friends-turned-roomies. Virgil hasn’t even looked at a pumpkin in years, and the others are about to find out why.

Ship: no ship

Tags/Warnings:  Human AU, pumpkin carving, lots of angst for like the first half, mentions of cancer, minor character death but it’s just mentioned

But Who Here Would Ever Understand - Day 4 

Summary:  Patton and Virgil have both had hard days at work, so they decide to take a little walk and talk about Serious Business™.

Ship: Moxiety

Tags/Warnings:  Virgil has Borderline Personality, Patton is a transmale, poor bois, hot chocolate, sweaters, sunsets, Human AU

There Are So Many Things I Cannot Grasp - Day 5 

Summary:  Logan hates the fall, because all he can see is the death of nature. Patton loves the fall, because he can push his boyfriend into a pile of rotting plant bodies leaves!

Ship: Logicality

Tags/Warnings:  Human AU (which I always forget to tag), idk what else to tag?, jumping in leaves, hhhhhh what a mess, I can feel the leaves scratching me no thanks

How Could I Be So Blind? - Day 6

Summary:  Virgil has never understood the point of decorating. Much less decorating for a season.

Ship: Moxiety

Tags/Warnings:  Human AU, Non-binary Patton, Patton is an elementary school teacher, decorating for fall, there’s like one ‘oh shit’ moment but everything’s okay, cute dorky gays

This Looks Like Fun - Day 7

Summary: Patton’s been getting a lot of questions about the cookies people see his boyfriends eating in his videos, so he decides to make a video about them!

Ship: LAMP/CALM

Tags/Warnings: some swearing, Virgil eats like, everything, very ridiculous, Human AU, Virgil goes by Anx on Tumblr and his boyfriends try to respect that

I Must Be Dreaming - Day 8

Summary: Virgil has never been to a fall festival before, but he really wants to go with Logan. 

Ship: Analogical

Tags/Warnings:  Human AU, a little bit of angst, will I ever be able to write straight-up fluff? Who knows, cute boyos

I’ve Never Felt This Good Before - Day 9 

Summary: Virgil and Roman have been together for a few years now, and Roman’s been planning something big. He loses his patience and decides to spring his plan into action on Halloween.

Ship: Prinxiety

Tags/Warnings:  Human AU, dorks, cutie patooties, hella gay

Life’s No Fun Without A Good Scare - Day 10 

Summary: Roman talks Patton into trying out the corn maze. They totally don’t get lost.

Ship: Royality

Tags/Warnings: Human AU, useless gays, some swearing

Don’t We Love It Now - Day 11 

Summary: Patton drags Logan along to a hay ride. Logan does not like hay, but ey loves Patton, so ey doesn’t complain. 

Ship: Logicality

Tags/Warnings: Agender Logan, hay rides, little accident, it’s fine though no one’s hurt, Lo’s a sap for his sap

Instead of Throwing Heads - Day 12 

Summary: Logan takes Virgil apple-picking. 

Ship: Analogical

Tags/Warnings: slight injury, dw it’s okay, gay nerds pickin apples

Year After Year (It’s the Same Routine) - Day 13 

Summary: Patton loves many things, but Friday the 13th is not one of them. 

Ship: LAMP/CALM

Tags/Warnings: superstition, cute poly boyos, Patt’s not all that into religion because lots of ppl use it as an excuse to hurt others, but he doesn’t have a problem with ppl being religious, cute phone contact names

I Can’t Believe My Eyes - Day 14 

Summary: Virgil has a secret. Roman is more than thrilled to discover it. 

Ship: no ship

Tags/Warnings:  Logan is non-binary, Dee has vitiligo, bois obsessed with caffeine, idk man it was just funny

Make You Jump Out of Your Skin - Day 15 

Summary:Deceit really loves October. 

Ship: no ship

Tags/Warnings: sympathetic Deceit, Dee plays pranks, it’s funny, s/o to @lucifer-in-my-head​ for helping me with Patton’s idea.

Why, That Looks So Unique (Inspired) - Day 16 

Summary: No one makes couples costumes for polyam relationships. The boys decide to take matters into their own hands, with a little help from Steven Universe. 

Ship: LAMP/CALM

Tags/Warnings:  costumes, fusions, halloween, roman’s good at art (unlike me), cute boyos

And How You’ll Scream - Day 17 

Summary: Virgil talks Patton into watching a Halloween movie with him, despite how nervous they are.

Ship: Moxiety

Tags/Warnings: non-binary Patton, halloween movies, cute supportive boyfriends, patton gets scared but virgil comforts them

Feels Like Tragedies At Hand - Day 18 

Summary: Virgil doesn’t sleep. He isn’t capable of sleeping anymore, and he hates it. But one night, Thomas can’t sleep either. 

Ship: platonic ThVi

Tags/Warnings: shitty summary, ghost virgil, witch thomas, idk are these really monsters?, sorry yall, reference to death

Something’s Waiting Now To Pounce - Day 19 

Summary: Virgil and Patton go to a haunted house and someone gets too scared to finish what they started. 

Ship: Moxiety

Tags/Warnings: Human AU, this is based off of a real event, i went to a haunted house with my friend, i was virgil, some spook/angst/suspense(?), minor swearing

Won’t The Children Be Surprised - Day 20 

Summary: Patton convinces the others to explore a supposedly haunted carnival with him. It… doesn’t exactly end the way they’d thought it would

Ship: platonic LAMPDS

Tags/Warnings:  Human AU, haunted carnivals, spoopy, remy’s a butt, is he real? no one knows

Only Dust And A Plaque - Day 21 

Summary: Logan hated not knowing what happened. He wished he would just be left alone. 

Ship: no ship

Tags/Warnings:  human AU, ghost logan, angst, idk sad logan, minor violence but no one is hurt

Here Lies Poor Old Virgil - Day 22 

Summary: Virgil had been the one to always talk Patton into visiting the graveyard, but this year Patton has to go alone. 

Ship: Moxiety

Tags/Warnings: human AU, major character death, really freaking sad, I’m not sorry, poor Patton, poor Virgil

You’d Better Pay Attention Now - Day 23

Summary:  Virgil’s up late and gets scared by something unexpected.

Ship: no ship

Tags/Warnings: virgil gets spooked, it’s dumb

When You Call “Who’s There?” - Day 24 

Summary: Roman gets out of rehearsal pretty late one night, and has to walk home alone. He lets himself get a little too paranoid. Or does he?

Ship: romantic or platonic Prinxiety

Tags/Warnings:  Human AU, hella suspense yo, roman’s an actor, virgil is mentioned, very spooky walks home

It’s Been Dead For Much Too Long - Day 25 

Summary: Not all ghost stories are told by the living. 

Ship: no ship

Tags/Warnings:  Human AU, graphic depictions of blood/gore/violence, seriously if you’re at all squeamish you probably shouldn’t read, ghost!Roman, ghost!Deceit, death, suicide mention, animal mutilation, murder

Somewhere Deep Inside of These Bones - Day 26 ((sequel to Day 21))

Summary: Remy had heard all the stories growing up, so naturally he wants to see what the truth is when he still believes in the ghost that lives in that rundown house downtown. 

Ship: no ship

Tags/Warnings: Human AU, angst, poor Logan, things are all coming together, Remy and Declyn are dorks, ouija board usage, i do not condone such acts of foolishness

With Lives on the Line - Day 27

Summary: Roman brings his boyfriends to the imagination, and things go horribly wrong. 

Ship: LAMP/CALM

Tags/Warnings:  violence, but i mean like, fist fights, uhm, idk what else

Can’t Shake This Feeling That I Have - Day 28 

Summary: Patton wants to play Outlast with Virgil. How could he say no?

Ship: platonic Moxiety

Tags/Warnings: it’s a horror/suspense game so, creepy, suspenseful, anxiety attack, some swearing, Human AU (I keep forgetting to add that one to my fics whoops)

Something’s Up With Virgil - Day 29 

Summary: Remy throws amazing Halloween parties, with a crazy money prize for his costume contest. Virgil wants that money. 

Ship: Prinxiety

Tags/Warnings: Dragon Witch costume, Virgil’s unfairly hot, based on @em-be-lievable‘s Dragon Witch AU, Human AU, College AU

What Have I Done? - Day 30 

Summary: Roman ate the last of the Crofter’s. He could only imagine how furious Logan would be.

Ship: no ship

Tags/Warnings:   intimidation, servitude, Roman wtf, belittling, slight swearing, Human AU

Join You By Your Side - Day 31 

Summary: This was by far the scariest thing Virgil has ever done in his life. He’s planned for this day for months, put up with things he never would have before, just to see this day happen. All for Remy. 

Ship: Sleepxiety

Tags/Warnings:  flashbacks, cute nerds, self deprecation, halloween festivities, I’m trying to tag this without giving anything away, Human AU

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remy sanders #emile picani #deceit sanders #thomas sanders #Halloween

[kurtty-drabbles]

Past vs Future final

N/A: FUCK Marvel and I write what I want, btw, I think the only thing Rachel and Kurt have in common is that they both like Kitty. Never form a relationship if the only thing in common you have with your s/o is to say how awesome the third party is.

@djinmer4 @briefladynighttheone @zoetekohana @pudimazul269 @ohmygillygoshoppler @lcitty-lcat @jaytalkedmeintoit @girls-are-weird

The day finally arrives. Ororo, Mrs Pryde and Stevie Hunter are all together gushing about the bride, their past and how time flies ("it was yesterday that I was hush into the hospital to deliver her" "It was yesterday I introduced her to the X-men" "she was just a small spunk girl with a crop saying Bitch, time flies fast") and the bride in itself can´t help by smile, rolls her eyes and (fake) complaining about such topics.

"Guys, I´m just getting married...I still have that crop" Kitty told them brightly looking at herself, then tears fall from her eyes, "I going to marry" her mouth cover her painted lips. Happiness is overcome herself(the anxiety was engulfed by the fact that in a few minutes she will be Mrs Wagner)

Ororo goes to Kitty to help the young woman(still, in her eyes. Their eyes, Kitty is always their little girl) she cleans the tears that now stained the makeover, Mrs Pryde and Stevie Hunter help to redo the makeover patiently as the woman(their little Kitty) are calm down.

" You are going to marry the man you love," Mrs Pryde said " I was the same when I married your father, I couldn´t wait for being Mrs Pryde, and now my little girl is going to marry"

Kitty replied with a big smile on her face. The makeover is completed once again. "Knowing Kurt, I´m sure he already put a service if anyone wants to random marry after our wedding is over"

"Yes, he called that friend of his and your father called the rabbi if someone wants to marry today...then nothing will stop them" Mrs Pryde explained and Kitty smile grins so bright, today is the happiest day of her life. Not the ending, just the beginning of a new adventure.

Meanwhile, in the men section, the groom and the other men are talking about the big day, Kurt Wagner for his part is asking for the hundredth time if his mother is in the reception(she loves to cause trouble)

"Elf, relax" Logan order in his big dad mood", she is not here and if she does show up we can deal with her " his claws leave little to the imagination as what Logan is truly talking about.

Kurt has torn feelings. He knows Mystique is not a mother (not even in name) yet...this woman gives life to him and ...Kurt would love to have his family(a normal one) to congratulate him on his biggest day. Well, at least, he has Rogue(and his friend on the X-men)

Remy, Logan, Scott, Hank and practically every X-men are talking about the new chapter on Kurt´s life, marriage, the blue elf is overjoyed (he will be married to Kitty soon, they will be the Mr and Mrs Wagner) all is put in a halt when Peter Rasputin enter in the men section wanting to talk with Kurt.

For a moment, no one dares to leave, the tension is thick in the room now. Everyone remembers the fiasco of Peter and Kitty weeding and the Russian man may want revenge.

Kurt didn´t seem concern in the slightest. And to prove this he asks for the others to leave. Logan wasn´t very keen on the idea, but Kurt insists they need to talk alone.

Once grant the wish, the Russian and the German man are looking at each other, the tension got even thicker.

"Should I talk first or you want to go?" Kurt sassy back in good humour, Peter didn´t reciprocate the feeling.

"You...are going to marry her? my Katya?" the Russian man speak in disbelief lacing his voice and Kurt´s golden eyes analyse his form(Peter went drinking a lot)

"One, she is not yours, soon she will be my wife and I like to think that my wife...is not an object for you to lust" Kurt fixed his tie and tuxedo and walks freely (no fear, no judgment and no shame)

"She was mine" The Russian man reply a bit confused and Kurt is glad to fix the confusion.

"When you look at 13 years old and think she is mine...that is not a healthy relationship when you say to now grow woman that it was her fault that you couldn´t control yourself, because it is the 13 years girl fault that you fall for her and feel lust, not the other way around, is not a good sign, my friend" Kurt explained patiently like he does with his students.

"But you are older too" Peter replied in bewilderment.

"Oh, 3 years is nothing compared with an 18 years old lusting over 13 years, right my friend" his smile remains on his face " your relationship with Katzchen" the word Katzchen was uttered on purpose " is toxic relationship and you won´t go forward in the future if you continue to hold on with this idea"

Kurt is facing the taller man, no fear, no shame and no judgment.

"I and Katzchen know each other, we saw our darkest moment and still remain together, our bond only gets strong over the years, " Kurt said calmly not " a relationship is based on trust, respect and love"

"I...thought you and Rachel" Peter speak slowly.

"What we had in common was Kitty," Kurt jokes" Rachel is a real lesbian, my dear friend, the only thing we can talk about is Kitty" Kurt scratch his neck in good humour at the joke that went by one Peter´s ear to another.

"...I...What I do, Kurt," Peter said falling on the ground, suddenly he is not taller anymore.

"Simple, you move on, my friend," Kurt said in a collect tone " let go of such tragic and toxic past, just move on"

Peter is mulling over to the situation.

"Do you love her? Do you really love Katzchen?" the word Katzchen sounds alien in his Russian accent.

"Yes, I love her deeply," Kurt answer honestly.

" Promise you will take her out of my hand, you will take care of her, right? She is troublesome and I need to know you will take care of her" Peter said a bit soberer.

Kurt narrowed his eyes to the tall man on the ground and speak kindly.

"She was not a thing to be given, but, rest assure my Russian friend, I´ll take care of Katzchen" Kurt promised in an earnest voice.

"Thank you, Kurt, thank you," Peter said and finally leave the men section. The wedding then begins, Kurt waiting in the alter, nervous and happy at the same time.

Kitty appears with her father and mother walking her through the alter, the wedding is a  mix of Jewish and Christian traditions, the Prydes give their only daughter away to Kurt Wagner and now it seems everything is alright with the world.

" I do," Kurt said

"I do," Kitty said

And finally, they kissed and are officially Mr Wagner and Mrs Wagner, everyone clapped in joy. Peter is ready to let go of the past and move on, Jubilee and Chamber ending proposing each other(in a more discrete way than Rogue and Remy did)

And what many don´t know is that Raven Darkholme is really in the ceremony( the perfume did hide her scent, but only for a little while)  the X-men keep an eye on her, Rogue is not going to let Mystique to ruin the big day.

" Isn´t a nice day for a wedding...Why I wasn´t invited to your wedding?" Mystique inquiry to her daughter who has none of her (supposed) plans.

"Well, you invite yourself anyway, so why are you complaining...why are you here?" Rogue asked

"Oh, I want to see my son getting married, dear, is my duty as a mother"

"Also, it was your duty as mother raise us," Rogue said ready to fight Mystique, but...today is the day of her little brother. Taking a deep breath she said in a low voice " don´t do anything, today, mother...today is the day for Kurt and Kitty if you ruined I ´ll kick your ass"

#kurtty #kurt wagner #kitty pryde #nightcrawler #shadowcat #kurtty weeding #we deserve it #rachel is really really gay #marvel is marvel #anti marvel #mystique is a shitty mother but hey she is at least there to see the big day #she will do something to ruin the day

[clouddey14]

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[romanasanders]

My 30 questions

Tagged by @sidespart and @artistictaurean and @constantly-fatigued

Nickname(s): in RL: Dani, Daan (from Daniëlle)

Gender: It’s ya girl

Sign: Pieces

Height: 5’7” (172 cm)

Time: At the moment, 13:03 pm

Fav band(s): I have a varied music taste. Some bands I like are Capital Kings, FOB, PAtD, Aviators, Hamilton Soundtrack, Coldplay, Owl City, Imagine Dragons, Maroon 5

Fav solo artist(s): Blackgryph0n, Dua Lipa, Dodie Clark, Thomas Sanders, Paint, Madeon, Chase Holfelder, Malinda Kathreen Reese

Song stuck in my head: Neon Trees Animal, Minor Key cover by Chase Holfelder

Last movie I saw: Catch Me If You Can

Last show I watched: I have no idea. Probably Voltron

When did I create my blog: Around november/december last year I think?

What do I post: Sanders Sides, and things that are Thomas Sanders related. Focused on Roman, Logan and Remy. I make edits, art, write headcanons and drabbles

Last thing I Googled: ‘thomas sanders twitter’ (I don’t have twitter and wanted to check something about an upcoming video)

Do I have any other blogs: Yes! @pailettehazel is my main, I also have @demi-daniel for edits, a writing blog and two more.

Do I get asks: Very rarely. I wish I would get more, ahah

Why did I chose my URL: Romana Sanders is the genderbend/fem! Version of Roman. I first used the name on the Sanders Sides Amino.

Following: 388

Followed by: 733

Average hours of Sleep: about 6-8 hours

Lucky number: 2

Instruments: Nope. I used to play flute but I forgot how to do it now.

What I am wearing: Black Jeans, “Never Stop Dreaming” T-shit, Jeans jacket.

Dream job: Media and Comminucation advisor

Dream trip: Either to America, Israel or South Africa

Fav food: Salmon in Puff Pastry

Nationality: I’m Dutch and proud

Fav song: My friend, that changes every day. At the moment, Last Of The Real Ones by FOB probably?

Last book I read: El Negro and I by Frank Westerman, for my Dutch Literature List

Top 3 fictional universes I wanna join: History Keepers, uuuh Narnia maybe? Not sure. I am pretty content with this universe.

#about me #romanasanders

[call-me-remi]

So, Mr. @russdom tagged me to do a questionnaire thing, some time ago....

THE LAST:

1. Drink: White Powerade 2. Phone call: Co-Worker 3. Text message: Another Co-Worker 4. Song you listened to: Not Falling - Mudvayne 5. Time you cried: June 19, 2006.

HAVE YOU: 6. Dated someone twice: No. 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Yes. 8. Been cheated on: Yes. 9. Lost someone special: Yes. 10. Been depressed: Sure. 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: No.

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12. Black 13. Silver 14. Grey

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: Possibly 16. Fallen out of love: No. 17. Laughed until you cried: Yes 18. Found out someone was talking about you: Yes 19. Met someone who changed you: PFFFT, No. 20. Found out who your friends are: Sure 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Sure.

GENERAL: 22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: Vast majority of them 23. Do you have any pets: Not at the moment 24. Do you want to change your name: No, I like my name 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: Worked a job that was complete fuckery & ate tasty food. 26. What time did you wake up: Can’t recall 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Playing New Vegas 28. Name something you can’t wait for: Getting a HK Mark 23 (soon...) 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: A couple weeks ago, or something. 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: Make my bank account 2 commas longer 31. What are you listening right now: A-F-R-O - Definition Of A Rap Flow 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yes. 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: Traffic in the Seattle area 34. Most visited Website: Bud’s Gun Shop

LOST QUESTIONS. I JUST PUT IN RANDOM INFO ABOUT ME 35. Mole/s: None 36. Mark/s: Many 37. Childhood dream: Becoming rich 38. Hair colour: Black 39. Long or short hair: Short, at the moment 40. Do you have a crush on someone: (REDACTED). 41. What do you like about yourself: My ability to handle fuckery. 42. Piercings: None anymore 43. Bloodtype: O+. 44. Nickname: Remi, Mr rifle/Shotgun, “That Heavy Metal Nigga”, Goggles,  Smiley, “Deathlord Niggamus Prime”  45. Relationship status: (REDACTED) 46. Zodiac: Aries 47. Pronouns: Male. 48. Favourite TV Show: The Wire. 49. Tattoos: A few 50. Right or left hand: Right. 51. Surgery: A few 52. Hair dyed in different color: No. 53. Sport: Boxing 55. Vacation: Thailand 56. Pair of trainers: What kind of “trainers”?

MORE GENERAL: 57. Eating: Nothing at the moment 58. Drinking: White Powerade 59. I’m about to: Shower. 61. Waiting for: Many things 62. Want: It all.  63. Get married: No. 64. Career: Professional Knife-Hand thrower & Profanity specialist (Well, that’s pretty much all I’m doing at the moment)

WHICH IS BETTER 65. Hugs or kisses:Both work 66. Lips or eyes: Eyes 67. Shorter or taller: Don’t care. 68. Older or younger: Don’t care 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: Don’t care 71. Sensitive or loud: Sensitive motherfuckers can be loud, too. 72. Hookup or relationship: Depends on the person 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: I like my peace

HAVE YOU EVER: 74. Kissed a stranger: No 75. Drank hard liquor: Yes 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: Yes 77. Turned someone down: Yes. 78. Sex on the first date: No. 79. Broken someone’s heart: Yes. 80. Had your heart broken: Yes. 81. Been arrested: No. 82. Cried when someone died: Yes. 83. Fallen for a friend: (REDACTED)

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: When it comes to certain things 85. Miracles: No. 86. Love at first sight: No. 87. Santa Claus: Never did. 88. Kiss on the first date: Depends on the person. 89. Angels: No.

OTHER: 90. Current best friend's name: Couldn’t say. 91. Eye colour: Brown/Black 92. Favorite movie: Django Unchained

[theinsanecrayonbox]

Q&As

 What prompted the killing of Wondergal to begin with?

Honestly, I don’t remember exactly what prompted it. Gotta remember that back in 2010 when I started the STT, I wanted Timmy to become a Nightwing parody, and just killing off his love interest seemed the easiest way to do it (I also was hard core shipping Timmy with Tootie, so that was the easiest way to make him choose her ^^; ). I actually started it when I was dog sitting, and 2 dogs don’t exactly give you the best creative feedback lol. It was also because my non-super hero FOP stuff at the time, I was writing Trixie as the mean popular girl, and not part of the main core group, so writing her out made sense. I was also hard core shipping Trixie with Remy, so again, needed to make her a bad girl for him.

 Why did you bring her back then?

I actually never had the intention to bring Trixie back. Once I had the idea of SuperTrix, she was going t be the main and only Trixie, and thus a bad guy to follow with the teenage drama story lines. But my best friend @twisted-persona loves Trixie, and she came up with Star-Gal. so I went “Ok, since Trixie is a clone to begin with, shy can’t there bed more of her?” and bam! That’s how we wound up with Star-Gal.

 Why make her a clone?

Because Donna Troy. I know Wondergal was meant to be a Wonder Woman parody, but I always thought of Wonder Girl. Then add in some of the visual similarities Trixie shared with Joan Jett, and how Goldenlocks is basically a Wonder Woman as well, it just seemed to make more sense for Trixie to be a clone. That and I like hybrid-/clone kids in super hero books lol

 How/when did you come up with the idea of “Glamazons”?

Free Comic Book Day 5/2/2015. I was standing in line at 7 am, waiting to get into the first comic shop of the day right when it opened, had been up since like 4/5 am since I had to drive 2 hours away to get to the shop, and the idea just popped into my head so I wrote notes about it on my iPOD. I was also wearing my Superverse tanktop

 How many “Wondergals” are there really?

Well there are 2 answers, since not every “Wondergal” is a Trixie, but every Trixie is a “Wondergal” (usually). These are what I’d consider the most distinctly different Wondergals that we’ve seen/met (gender swaps and minor changed What Ifs aside)

Trixie!Wondergals: 9

Primeverse, Negaverse, MoT, Ultimateverse, JYU, AoC, Arachnidverse, Eraserz, STS

Other!Wondergals: 6

Power Swapped 1 (Missy), Power Swapped 2 (Tootie), CoT (Chloe), PPR (Chloe), Wandergal, FTT (Roxy)

 So is W(a)ndergal (Shannon?) now part of the Superverse?

No, not *really*. Her show is set in an alternate universe, so there’s a chance that we could meet her (young or old) at some point. But there is no “Shannon Karter” in the Primeverse

 What made you pick that name for Goldenlocks/W(a)ndergal?

Goldenlocks was named Marigold Lockheart because her first name is Goldie, and Hair Razor said she had Goldie’s “heart locked up”. It was @twisted-persona’s idea lol

Wandergal was named Shannon Karter after two famous Wonder Women, Shannon Farnon and Linda Carter (with a K because it sounded/looked too much like Sharon Carter/Aget 13)

 Why is Trixie sometimes called Trisha?

That’s another of @twisted-persona’s contributions. She had this head canon that Trixie’s real name was Trisha, but she changed it to be cooler. So when I started using the clone back story for her, it just made sense that “Trisha” was her personality donor then, you know, to help her be a “real girl”

Arts

 Power Pals: Resurrection:

So this is something that I started a while ago…it’s not a *real* fighting game obviously (and not canon to anything), but I haven’t shared any of it yet because I was going to do individual character profiles, but getting to those in the off time and being motivated to do so isn’t really working…

 Hi-Res SuperTrix:

Made for PPR. Turns out the last time I drew SuperTrix was in like 2011 and yeah…^^;

 Hi-Res Wondergal:

Again, made for PPR. I hadn’t a decent drawn Classic!Wondergal in a long time either

 Hi-Res Wandergal:

Had to try my hand at drawing Wandergal (with some artistic liberties of course), and I honestly do like her. I just…don’t have room for her in my Superverse ^^; thus the creative meta-history I wrote up to explain her character.

 Spoiler sketch compilation:

And last but not least, a sketch compilation of ideas I have in the works for upcoming plots and what not

I hope you’ve all enjoyed the 2017 SDCC Superverse Event

#Fairly Odd Parents #Fairly Oddparents #fop #superverse #my art #digital art #sdcc2017

[devouer]

unusual asks: 1-100,,,,, All of them,,,,,

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora?

spotify!!!

is your room messy or clean?

clean usually, although it’s weird right now with moving back home and getting rid of pretty much everything I owned before this year

what color are your eyes?

dark brown!

do you like your name? why?

i like elma ling but not elma very much just because of the flow + because my host family used it to differentiate me from my host sister emma so I associate it with warmth and familiarity + it’s cute and reflects my heritage?? idk I feel like it fits me well enough

what is your relationship status?

marrying @katsudaddy and adopting our dog cranberry and our cat sock and living in a cozy apartment together

no but rly im single but so involved in my friendships that like... honestly I put no difference in commitment between them and romantic relationships

describe your personality in 3 words or less

grateful, I think, more than anything! I hear things like sincere and mature pretty often too, but I think love and thankfulness define my perspective towards others more than anything

what color hair do you have?

dark brown

what kind of car do you drive? color?

I don’t drive

where do you shop?

a lot of MUJI and uniqlo ngl + a bit of zara/h&m + school apparel + thrifting

how would you describe your style?

minimalist but dreamy? kind of a mix of european and asian styles

favorite social media account

instagram probably! I use tumblr and snapchat quite a bit too

what size bed do you have?

I mean, I had a twin in france + at school, but here I have a full which makes me very sad it’s too big for one person so I’m trying to switch rooms/beds with my brother

any siblings?

my brother, who’s 13! I also have five host siblings even if they’re not my real family :’)

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

honestly, considering the languages I know right now, I’d want to live on the west coast of france – there’s nowhere I feel more at home in terms of the people and lifestyle, and I love the way the light endures in the evening and the delicate beauty of patchwork cities and gardens... I’d love to live for some time in Russia, China, and Japan for language acquisition, though!

favorite snapchat filter?

I never use the filters omg but hm I love when @katsudaddy sends me bunny filter snaps she is cute

favorite makeup brand(s)

colourpop is the bomb! + nuxe, la roche posay, and the body shop are good for skin and beauty things that aren’t makeup

how many times a week do you shower?

probably around 5

favorite tv show?

YURI ON ICE

shoe size?

36 EU/6 U.S.

how tall are you?

5′2″!

sandals or sneakers?

sneakers!

do you go to the gym?

I work out regularly, but not at the gym bc it was too expensive in france >:( I’ll probably start going now that I’m back, though!

describe your dream date

picnic and museum or exploring tbh... or going to the sea at a quiet hour... anything rly what matters is the other person!!

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

around $40 I think

what color socks are you wearing?

not wearing socks atm, but was wearing grey socks earlier!

how many pillows do you sleep with?

one usually

do you have a job? what do you do?

I’m camp counseling this summer!

how many friends do you have?

probably a good dozen, although I have around 4-5 really close friends!

whats the worst thing you have ever done?

clarify worst

whats your favorite candle scent?

LAVENDER I LOVE EVERYTHING LAVENDER it reminds me of home and early autumn in the loire and the fields of provence and my favorite honey :’)

3 favorite boy names

remi, alexeï, antonin

3 favorite girl names

irene, tereza, kiyoko

favorite actor?

the 12 year old in me is still hopelessly in love with orlando bloom

favorite actress?

katherine reber class of 2017

who is your celebrity crush?

nathan chen......................

favorite movie?

i rly love amélie!

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?

i read a decent amount, but used to read all the time before hs! my favorite book is The Unbearable Lightness of Being by milan kundera!

money or brains?

um brains lmao I don’t like having many physical possessions

do you have a nickname? what is it?

elmy, elm tree, elmdog, soup dumpling, soup, xiao long bao, red bean, elma ling was a sort of nickname that became my normal name, french bitch

how many times have you been to the hospital?

none lmao

top 10 favorite songs

rachmaninoff piano concerto no. 2 (esp. the second movement!)

rach 3

rachmaninoff ave maria from “vespers” (can you tell that rachmaninoff is my total comfort music)

debussy arabesque no. 1

theme for a taiwanese woman in lime green by devendra banhart

immobile by cliché

you only live once by the strokes

chosen by blood orange

astor piazolla tangata

getting to know you by spazzkid

do you take any medications daily?

nope

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

normal-ish? i have acne which is annoying but it’s been getting a lot better since I’ve come back I’m convinced bretagne water was just really bad for my skin

what is your biggest fear?

losing my ability to learn with the ease needed to continually better my understanding of the world and others (lest the progress of time bypass my ability to view the flow) and thus have unsatisfiable ambition and love

how many kids do you want?

none rly

whats your go to hair style?

half-back, sometimes french braided

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc)

decent-sized family home, but I can’t wait to get out and live in an apartment I rly hate having space idk

who is your role model?

MY TEACHERS especially my physics and french teachers I rly adore them and could never express my gratitude for the dedication of their lives to my growth

what was the last compliment you received?

friends’ parents saying they believe I’ll do great things in the future and wishing me good luck at uni :’)

what was the last text you sent?

“OH MY GOD TOO FAR”

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

idk little me was caught between knowing better and remaining purposely ignorant out of a nostalgia for wonder in total unknowing of infancy so

what is your dream car?

i literally don’t ever want a car of my own

opinion on smoking?

very harmful, never something i’d try... like, I have a lot of friends/classmates who smoke and I’d never judge their characters from that, but idk I think it’s a rly bad habit

do you go to college?

yep, uchicago!

what is your dream job?

i’d love to be a journalist or writer with international involvement but idk really! I’m very flexible when considering my future!

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?

RURAL AREA like anywhere but the suburbs tbh like a city would be ideal, but at least in a rural area, I could have a thoreau-esque retreat

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels?

no i never use them

do you have freckles?

yes i have so many spots on my skin idk it just pigments very easily

do you smile for pictures?

i do now (even though i prefer candids by a long shot) but i would refuse to when i was very little maybe until i was like 6-7

how many pictures do you have on your phone?

7133 

have you ever peed in the woods?

so many times lmao i hike i have no qualms

do you still watch cartoons?

.........does yuri on ice count

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

idek the difference

Favorite dipping sauce?

curry sauce!!!

what do you wear to bed?

if it’s cold i bundle up in sweatpants + a patagonia, but if it’s decently warm, i just wear underwear

have you ever won a spelling bee?

no

what are your hobbies?

piano, painting, picking up new languages bc i’m a loser, organ, photography, hiking, teaching english from time to time + writing + editing

can you draw?

decently ehhh

do you play an instrument?

piano, violin, and organ!

what was the last concert you saw?

probably the marriage of figaro at the prague opera if that counts lmao..... i don’t go to non-classical concerts idk

tea or coffee?

tea usually, but I love a good espresso

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

neither

do you want to get married?

@katsudaddy and I are already married

what is your crush’s first and last initial?

CB

KIDDING lmao no i’m not really into anyone romantically right now

are you going to change your last name when you get married?

depends on what sounds nicest tbh... I don’t like the sonority of my last name much so...yeah probably

what color looks best on you?

deep red looks nice, but I prefer wearing neutrals + greens/blues

do you miss anyone right now?

my family (host fam)

do you sleep with your door open or closed?

closed, but i used to leave my balcony doors open sometimes in france

do you believe in ghosts?

no

what is your biggest pet peeve?

PHONES OUT DURING MEALS

last person you called`

my dad

favorite ice cream flavor?

hmm I had a honey-almond gelato near marseille that I rly liked!!

regular oreos or golden oreos?

i don’t even remember what they taste like

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?

rainbow bc they’re gay

what shirt are you wearing?

white t-shirt with a loose denim dress on top

what is your phone background?

aljkdfsh fanart of yuuri kissing viktor on the head... very cute

are you outgoing or shy?

honestly i think the best way to describe me would be intense? like, i rly swing between extremes with this depending upon where I direct my energy, so like... idk I’m naturally quite private but come off as outgoing bc I put up that front in public events when I have to

do you like it when people play with your hair?

ppl don’t rly play with my hair but I like playing with others’!!

do you like your neighbors?

idk the neighbors in PA or even in France, but at school, I lived with my classmates and teachers, and I loved the majority!!!

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

both!!!!

have you ever been high?

nooooo

have you ever been drunk?

yes, but I stay pretty in control

last thing you ate?

strawberries!

favorite lyrics right now

idk I don’t really think I have any! the sonority of music has always been a lot more moving to me than the lyrics

summer or winter?

summer, but the dawn of spring is my favorite time of year

day or night?

the last hours of day in the northern summers where the sky will be light almost until midnight

dark, milk, or white chocolate?

DARK like 85%-95% is good

favorite month?

maybe march or april... it depends on the weather each year!

what is your zodiac sign

taurus but idk it’s Very inaccurate for me (like i constantly crave change and take initiative to throw myself into uncomfortable and new situations, and I eschew material possession... at least i’m rly loyal though?) tbh my chinese zodiac (dragon) is much closer to my personality

who was the last person you cried in front of?

dave, my physics teacher :( I was thanking him one last time for showing me a way of surviving, u know? like there’s so much love and passion in what he does and idk I always worry about losing spark and so it’s like... idk he reminds me that there is always life in love if that makes any sense

#goth-dyke

[nowontheroad]

On the Road a novel by Jack Kerouac

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

On the Road is a novel by American writer Jack Kerouac, based on the travels of Kerouac and his friends across the United States. It is considered a defining work of the postwar Beat and Counterculture generations, with its protagonists living life against a backdrop of jazz, poetry, and drug use. The novel, published in 1957, is a roman à clef, with many key figures in the Beat movement, such as William S. Burroughs (Old Bull Lee), Allen Ginsberg (Carlo Marx) and Neal Cassady (Dean Moriarty) represented by characters in the book, including Kerouac himself as the narrator Sal Paradise.

The idea for On the Road, Kerouac's second novel, was formed during the late 1940s in a series of notebooks, and then typed out on a continuous reel of paper during three weeks in April 1951. It was first published by Viking Press in 1957. After several film proposals dating from 1957, the book was finally made into a film, On the Road(2012), produced by Francis Ford Coppola and directed by Walter Salles.

When the book was originally released, The New York Times hailed it as "the most beautifully executed, the clearest and the most important utterance yet made by the generation Kerouac himself named years ago as 'beat,' and whose principal avatar he is."[1] In 1998, the Modern Library ranked On the Road 55th on its list of the 100 best English-language novels of the 20th century. The novel was chosen by Time magazine as one of the 100 best English-language novels from 1923 to 2005.[2]

Contents

1Production and publication

2Plot

3Reception

4Influence

5Film adaptation

6Beat Generation

7See also

8References

9Further reading

10External links

2.1Part One

2.2Part Two

2.3Part Three

2.4Part Four

2.5Part Five

2.6Characters

3.1Initial reaction

3.2Critical study

Production and publication

After Kerouac dropped out of Columbia University, he served on several different sailing vessels before returning to New York to write. He met and mixed with Beat Generation figures Allen Ginsberg, William Burroughs, and Neal Cassady. Between 1947 and 1950, while writing what would become The Town and the City (1950), Kerouac engaged in the road adventures that would form On the Road.[3] Kerouac carried small notebooks, in which much of the text was written as the eventful span of road trips unfurled. He started working on the first of several versions of the novel as early as 1948, based on experiences during his first long road trip in 1947. However, he remained dissatisfied with the novel.[4] Inspired by a 1000-word rambling letter from his friend Neal Cassady, Kerouac in 1950 outlined the "Essentials of Spontaneous Prose" and decided to tell the story of his years on the road with Cassady as if writing a letter to a friend in a form that reflected the improvisational fluidity of jazz.[5] In a letter to a student in 1961, Kerouac wrote: "Dean and I were embarked on a journey through post-Whitman America to find that America and to find the inherent goodness in American man. It was really a story about 2 Catholic buddies roaming the country in search of God. And we found him."[6]

The first draft of what was to become the published novel was written in three weeks in April 1951, while Kerouac lived with Joan Haverty, his second wife, at 454 West 20th Street in New York City's Manhattan. The manuscript was typed on what he called "the scroll"—a continuous, 120-foot scroll of tracing paper sheets that he cut to size and taped together.[7] The roll was typed single-spaced, without margins or paragraph breaks. In the following years, Kerouac continued to revise this manuscript, deleting some sections (including some sexual depictions deemed pornographic in the 1950s) and adding smaller literary passages.[8] Kerouac wrote a number of inserts intended for On the Road between 1951 and 1952, before eventually omitting them from the manuscript and using them to form the basis of another work, Visions of Cody (1951–1952).[9] On the Road was championed within Viking Press by Malcolm Cowley and was published by Viking in 1957, based on revisions of the 1951 manuscript.[10] Besides differences in formatting, the published novel was shorter than the original scroll manuscript and used pseudonyms for all of the major characters.

Viking Press released a slightly edited version of the original manuscript titled On the Road: The Original Scroll (August 16, 2007), corresponding with the 50th anniversary of original publication. This version has been transcribed and edited by English academic and novelist Dr. Howard Cunnell. As well as containing material that was excised from the original draft due to its explicit nature, the scroll version also uses the real names of the protagonists, so Dean Moriarty becomes Neal Cassady and Carlo Marx becomes Allen Ginsberg, etc.[11]

In 2007, Gabriel Anctil, a journalist of Montreal daily Le Devoir, discovered in Kerouac's personal archives in New York almost 200 pages of his writings entirely in Quebec French, with colloquialisms. The collection included 10 manuscript pages of an unfinished version of On the Road, written on January 19, 1951. The date of the writings makes Kerouac one of the earliest known authors to use colloquial Quebec French in literature.[12]

The original scroll of On The Road was bought in 2001 by Jim Irsay for $2.43 million (equivalent to $3.29 million in 2016). It has occasionally been made available for public viewing, with the first 30 feet (9 m) unrolled. Between 2004 and 2012, the scroll was displayed in a number of museums and libraries in the United States, Ireland, and the UK. It was exhibited in Paris in the summer of 2012 to celebrate the movie based on the book.[13]

Plot

The two main characters of the book are the narrator, Sal Paradise, and his friend Dean Moriarty, much admired for his carefree attitude and sense of adventure, a free-spirited maverick eager to explore all kicks and an inspiration and catalyst for Sal's travels. The novel contains five parts, three of them describing road trips with Moriarty. The narrative takes place in the years 1947 to 1950, is full of Americana, and marks a specific era in jazz history, "somewhere between its Charlie Parker Ornithology period and another period that began with Miles Davis." The novel is largely autobiographical, Sal being the alter ego of the author and Dean standing for Neal Cassady.

Part One

The first section describes Sal's first trip to San Francisco. Disheartened after a divorce, his life changes when he meets Dean Moriarty, who is "tremendously excited with life," and begins to long for the freedom of the road: "Somewhere along the line I knew there would be girls, visions, everything; somewhere along the line the pearl would be handed to me." He sets off in July 1947 with fifty dollars in his pocket. After taking several buses and hitchhiking, he arrives in Denver, where he hooks up with Carlo Marx, Dean, and their friends. There are parties—among them an excursion to the ghost town of Central City. Eventually Sal leaves by bus and gets to San Francisco, where he meets Remi Boncoeur and his girlfriend Lee Ann. Remi arranges for Sal to take a job as a night watchman at a boarding camp for merchant sailors waiting for their ship. Not holding this job for long, Sal hits the road again. "Oh, where is the girl I love?" he wonders. Soon he meets Terry, the "cutest little Mexican girl," on the bus to Los Angeles. They stay together, traveling back to Bakersfield, then to Sabinal, "her hometown," where her family works in the fields. He meets Terry's brother Ricky, who teaches him the true meaning of "mañana" ("tomorrow"). Working in the cotton fields, Sal realizes that he is not made for this type of work. Leaving Terry behind, he takes the bus back to Times Square New York, bums a quarter off a preacher who looks the other way, arrives at his Aunt's house in Paterson, just missing Dean, who had come to see him, by two days.

Part Two

In December 1948 Sal is celebrating Christmas with his relatives in Testament, Virginia, when Dean shows up with Marylou (having left his second wife, Camille, and their newborn baby, Amy, in San Francisco) and Ed Dunkel. Sal's Christmas plans are shattered as "now the bug was on me again, and the bug's name was Dean Moriarty." First they drive to New York, where they meet Carlo and party. Dean wants Sal to make love to Marylou, but Sal declines. In Dean's Hudson they take off from New York in January 1949 and make it to New Orleans. In Algiers they stay with the morphine-addicted Old Bull Lee and his wife Jane. Galatea Dunkel joins her husband in New Orleans while Sal, Dean, and Marylou continue their trip. Once in San Francisco, Dean again leaves Marylou to be with Camille. "Dean will leave you out in the cold anytime it is in the interest of him," Marylou tells Sal. Both of them stay briefly in a hotel, but soon she moves out, following a nightclub owner. Sal is alone and on Market Street has visions of past lives, birth, and rebirth. Dean finds him and invites him to stay with his family. Together, they visit nightclubs and listen to Slim Gaillard and other jazz musicians. The stay ends on a sour note: "what I accomplished by coming to Frisco I don't know," and Sal departs, taking the bus back to New York.

Part Three

In the spring of 1949, Sal takes a bus from New York to Denver. He is depressed and lonesome; none of his friends are around. After receiving some money, he leaves Denver for San Francisco to see Dean. Camille is pregnant and unhappy, and Dean has injured his thumb trying to hit Marylou for sleeping with other men. Camille throws them out, and Sal invites Dean to come to New York, planning to travel further to Italy. They meet Galatea, who tells Dean off: "You have absolutely no regard for anybody but yourself and your kicks." Sal realizes she is right—Dean is the "HOLY GOOF"—but also defends him, as "he's got the secret that we're all busting to find out." After a night of jazz and drinking in Little Harlem on Folsom Street, they depart. On the way to Sacramento they meet a "fag", who propositions them. Dean tries to hustle some money out of this but is turned down. During this part of the trip Sal and Dean have ecstatic discussions having found "IT" and "TIME". In Denver a brief argument shows the growing rift between the two, when Dean reminds Sal of his age, Sal being the older of the two. They get a '47 Cadillac from a travel bureau that needs to be brought to Chicago. Dean drives most of the way, crazy, careless, often speeding over 100 miles per hour (160 km/h), bringing it in a disheveled state. By bus they move on to Detroit and spend a night on Skid Row, Dean hoping to find his homeless father. From Detroit they share a ride to New York and arrive at Sal's aunt's new flat in Long Island. They go on partying in New York, where Dean meets Inez and gets her pregnant while his wife is expecting their second child.

Part Four

In the spring of 1950, Sal gets the itch to travel again while Dean is working as a parking lot attendant in Manhattan, living with his girlfriend Inez. Sal notices that he has been reduced to simple pleasures—listening to basketball games and looking at erotic playing cards. By bus Sal takes to the road again, passing Washington, D.C., Ashland, Cincinnati, and St. Louis, and eventually reaching Denver. There he meets Stan Shephard, and the two plan to go to Mexico City when they learn that Dean has bought a car and is on the way to join them. In a rickety '37 Ford sedan the three set off across Texas to Laredo, where they cross the border. They are ecstatic, having left "everything behind us and entering a new and unknown phase of things." Their money buys more (10 cents for a beer), police are laid back, cannabis is readily available, and people are curious and friendly. The landscape is magnificent. In Gregoria, they meet Victor, a local kid, who leads them to a bordello where they have their last grand party, dancing to mambo, drinking, and having fun with prostitutes. In Mexico City Sal becomes ill from dysentery and is "delirious and unconscious." Dean leaves him, and Sal later reflects that "when I got better I realized what a rat he was, but then I had to understand the impossible complexity of his life, how he had to leave me there, sick, to get on with his wives and woes."

Part Five

Dean, having obtained divorce papers in Mexico, had first returned to New York to marry Inez, only to leave her and go back to Camille. After his recovery from dysentery in Mexico, Sal returns to New York in the fall. He finds a girl, Laura, and plans to move with her to San Francisco. Sal writes to Dean about his plan to move to San Francisco. Dean writes back saying that he's willing to come and accompany Laura and Sal. Dean arrives over five weeks early, but Sal is out taking a late-night walk alone. Sal returns home, sees a copy of Proust, and knows it is Dean's. Sal realizes his friend has arrived, but at a time when Sal doesn't have the money to relocate to San Francisco. On hearing this Dean makes the decision to head back to Camille. Sal's friend Remi Boncoeur denies Sal's request to give Dean a short lift to 40th Street on their way to a Duke Ellington concert at the Metropolitan Opera House. Sal's girlfriend Laura realises this is a painful moment for Sal and prompts him for a response as the party drives off without Dean. Sal replies: "He'll be alright". Sal later reflects as he sits on a river pier under a New Jersey night sky about the roads and lands of America that he has travelled and states: ". . . I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of Old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty."

Characters

Kerouac often based his fictional characters on friends and family.[14][15]

"Because of the objections of my early publishers I was not allowed to use the same personae names in each work."[16]

Reception

The book received a mixed reaction from the media in 1957. Some of the earlier reviews spoke highly of the book, but the backlash to these was swift and strong. Although this was discouraging to Kerouac, he still received great recognition and notoriety from the work. Since its publication, critical attention has focused on issues of both the context and the style, addressing the actions of the characters as well as the nature of Kerouac's prose.

Initial reaction

In his review for The New York Times, Gilbert Millstein wrote, "its publication is a historic occasion in so far as the exposure of an authentic work of art is of any great moment in an age in which the attention is fragmented and the sensibilities are blunted by the superlatives of fashion" and praised it as "a major novel."[1] Millstein was already sympathetic toward the Beat Generation and his promotion of the book in the Times did wonders for its recognition and acclaim. Not only did he like the themes, but also the style, which would come to be just as hotly contested in the reviews that followed. "There are sections of On the Roadin which the writing is of a beauty almost breathtaking...there is some writing on jazz that has never been equaled in American fiction, either for insight, style, or technical virtuosity."[1] Kerouac and Joyce Johnson, a younger writer he was living with, read the review shortly after midnight at a newsstand at 69th Street and Broadway, near Joyce's apartment in the Upper West Side. They took their copy of the newspaper to a neighborhood bar and read the review over and over. "Jack kept shaking his head," Joyce remembered later in her memoir Minor Characters, "as if he couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t happier than he was." Finally, they returned to her apartment to go to sleep. As Joyce recalled: "Jack lay down obscure for the last time in his life. The ringing phone woke him the next morning, and he was famous.”[17]

The backlash began just a few days later in the same publication. David Dempsey published a review that contradicted most of what Millstein had promoted in the book. "As a portrait of a disjointed segment of society acting out of its own neurotic necessity, On the Road, is a stunning achievement. But it is a road, as far as the characters are concerned, that leads to nowhere." While he did not discount the stylistic nature of the text (saying that it was written "with great relish"), he dismissed the content as a "passionate lark" rather than a novel."[18]

Other reviewers were also less than impressed. Phoebe Lou Adams in Atlantic Monthly wrote that it "disappoints because it constantly promises a revelation or a conclusion of real importance and general applicability, and cannot deliver any such conclusion because Dean is more convincing as an eccentric than as a representative of any segment of humanity."[19] While she liked the writing and found a good theme, her concern was repetition. "Everything Mr. Kerouac has to say about Dean has been told in the first third of the book, and what comes later is a series of variations on the same theme."[19]

The review from Time exhibited a similar sentiment. "The post-World War II generation—beat or beatific—has not found symbolic spokesmen with anywhere near the talents of Fitzgerald, Hemingway, or Nathanael West. In this novel, talented Author Kerouac, 35, does not join that literary league, either, but at least suggests that his generation is not silent. With his barbaric yawp of a book, Kerouac commands attention as a kind of literary James Dean."[20] It considers the book partly a travel book and partly a collection of journal jottings. While Kerouac sees his characters as "mad to live...desirous of everything at the same time," the reviewer likens them to cases of "psychosis that is a variety of Ganser Syndrome" who "aren't really mad—they only seem to be."[20]

Critical study

On the Road has been the object of critical study since its publication. David Brooks of The New York Times compiled several opinions and summarized them in an Op-Ed from October 2, 2007. Whereas Millstein saw it as a story in which the heroes took pleasure in everything, George Mouratidis, an editor of a new edition, claimed "above all else, the story is about loss." "It's a book about death and the search for something meaningful to hold on to—the famous search for 'IT,' a truth larger than the self, which, of course, is never found," wrote Meghan O'Rourke in Slate. "Kerouac was this deep, lonely, melancholy man," Hilary Holladay of the University of Massachusetts Lowell told The Philadelphia Inquirer. "And if you read the book closely, you see that sense of loss and sorrow swelling on every page." "In truth, 'On the Road' is a book of broken dreams and failed plans," wrote Ted Gioia in The Weekly Standard.[21]

John Leland, author of Why Kerouac Matters: The Lessons of On the Road (They're Not What You Think), says "We're no longer shocked by the sex and drugs. The slang is passé and at times corny. Some of the racial sentimentality is appalling" but adds "the tale of passionate friendship and the search for revelation are timeless. These are as elusive and precious in our time as in Sal's, and will be when our grandchildren celebrate the book's hundredth anniversary."[22]

To Brooks, this characterization seems limited. "Reading through the anniversary commemorations, you feel the gravitational pull of the great Boomer Narcissus. All cultural artifacts have to be interpreted through whatever experiences the Baby Boomer generation is going through at that moment. So a book formerly known for its youthful exuberance now becomes a gloomy middle-aged disillusion."[21] He laments how the book's spirit seems to have been tamed by the professionalism of America today and how it has only survived in parts. The more reckless and youthful parts of the text that gave it its energy are the parts that have "run afoul of the new gentility, the rules laid down by the health experts, childcare experts, guidance counselors, safety advisers, admissions officers, virtuecrats and employers to regulate the lives of the young."[21]He claims that the "ethos" of the book has been lost.

Mary Pannicia Carden feels that traveling was a way for the characters to assert their independence: they "attempt to replace the model of manhood dominant in capitalist America with a model rooted in foundational American ideals of conquest and self-discovery."[23] "Reassigning disempowering elements of patriarchy to female keeping, they attempt to substitute male brotherhood for the nuclear family and to replace the ladder of success with the freedom of the road as primary measures of male identity."[23]

Kerouac's writing style has attracted the attention of critics. On the Road has been considered by Tim Hunt to be a transitional phase between the traditional narrative structure of The Town and the City (1951) and the "wild form" of his later books like Visions of Cody (1972).[24] Kerouac's own explanation of his style in "Essentials of Spontaneous Prose" (1953) is that his writing is like the Impressionist painters who sought to create art through direct observation. Matt Theado feels he endeavoured to present a raw version of truth which did not lend itself to the traditional process of revision and rewriting but rather the emotionally charged practice of the spontaneity he pursued.[25] Theado argues that the personal nature of the text helps foster a direct link between Kerouac and the reader; that his casual diction and very relaxed syntax was an intentional attempt to depict events as they happened and to convey all of the energy and emotion of the experiences.[25]

Influence

On the Road has been an influence on various poets, writers, actors and musicians, including Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, Jim Morrison, and Hunter S. Thompson.

From journalist Sean O'Hagan, in a 2007 article published in The Guardian:

" 'It changed my life like it changed everyone else's,' Dylan would say many years later. Tom Waits, too, acknowledged its influence, hymning Jack and Neal in a song and calling the Beats "father figures." At least two great American photographers were influenced by Kerouac: Robert Frank, who became his close friend—Kerouac wrote the introduction to Frank's book, The Americans—and Stephen Shore, who set out on an American road trip in the 1970s with Kerouac's book as a guide. It would be hard to imagine Hunter S. Thompson's road novel Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas had On the Road not laid down the template; likewise, films such as Easy Rider, Paris, Texas, and even Thelma and Louise. "[26]

In his book Light My Fire: My Life with The Doors, Ray Manzarek (keyboard player of The Doors) wrote "I suppose if Jack Kerouac had never written On the Road, The Doors would never have existed."

On the Road influenced an entire generation of musicians, poets, and writers including Allen Ginsberg. Because of Ginsberg’s friendship with Kerouac, Ginsberg was written into the novel through the character Carlo Marx. Ginsberg recalled that he was attracted to the beat generation, and Kerouac, because the beats valued “detachment from the existing society,” while at the same time calling for an immediate release from a culture in which the most "freely" accessible items—bodies and ideas—seemed restricted (1). Ginsberg incorporated a sense of freedom of prose and style into his poetry as a result of the influence of Kerouac (1).[27]

Film adaptation

Main article:

On the Road (film)

A film adaptation of On the Road had been proposed in 1957 when Jack Kerouac wrote a one-page letter to actor Marlon Brando, suggesting that he play Dean Moriarty while Kerouac would portray Sal Paradise.[28]Brando never responded to the letter; later on Warner Bros. offered $110,000 for the rights to Kerouac's book, but his agent, Sterling Lord, declined it, hoping for a $150,000 deal from Paramount Pictures, which did not occur.[28]

The film rights were bought in 1980 by producer Francis Ford Coppola for $95,000.[29] Coppola tried out several screenwriters, including Michael Herr, Barry Gifford, and novelist Russell Banks, even writing a draft himself with his son Roman, before settling on José Rivera.[30][31] Several different plans were considered: Joel Schumacher as director, with Billy Crudup as Sal Paradise, and Colin Farrell as Dean Moriarty; then Ethan Hawke as Paradise and Brad Pitt as Moriarty; in 1995, he planned to shoot on black-and-white 16mm film and held auditions with poet Allen Ginsberg in attendance, but all those projects fell through.[31]

After seeing Walter Salles' The Motorcycle Diaries (2004), Coppola appointed Salles to direct the movie.[32] In preparation for the film, Salles traveled the United States, tracing Kerouac's journey and filming a documentary on the search for On the Road.[33] Sam Riley starred as Sal Paradise. Garrett Hedlund portrayed Dean Moriarty.[33] Kristen Stewart played Mary Lou.[34] Kirsten Dunst portrayed Camille.[35] The film screened at the Cannes Film Festival in 2012[36] and was nominated for the Palme d'Or.[37]

In 2007, BBC Four aired Russell Brand On the Road, a documentary presented by Russell Brand and Matt Morgan about Kerouac, focusing on On the Road. The documentary American Road, which explores the mystique of the road in US culture and contains an ample section on Kerouac, premiered at the AMFM Festival in California on 14 June 2013, when it won the award for Best Documentary.[38]

Beat Generation

Main article:

Beat Generation

While many critics still consider the word "beat" in its literal sense of "tired and beaten down," others, including Kerouac himself promoted the generation more in sense of "beatific" or blissful.[39] Holmes and Kerouac published several articles in popular magazines in an attempt to explain the movement. In the November 16, 1952 New York Times Sunday Magazine, he wrote a piece exposing the faces of the Beat Generation. "[O]ne day [Kerouac] said, 'You know, this is a really beat generation' ... More than mere weariness, it implies the feeling of having been used, of being raw. It involves a sort of nakedness of mind, and ultimately, of soul: a feeling of being reduced to the bedrock of consciousness. In short, it means being undramatically pushed up against the wall of oneself."[40] He distinguishes Beats from the Lost Generation of the 1920s pointing out how the Beats are not lost but how they are searching for answers to all of life's questions. Kerouac's preoccupation with writers like Ernest Hemingway shaped his view of the beat generation. He uses a prose style which he adapted from Hemingway and throughout On the Road he alludes to novels like The Sun Also Rises. "How to live seems much more crucial than why."[40] In many ways, it is a spiritual journey, a quest to find belief, belonging, and meaning in life. Not content with the uniformity promoted by government and consumer culture, the Beats yearned for a deeper, more sensational experience. Holmes expands his attempt to define the generation in a 1958 article in Esquire magazine. This article was able to take more of a look back at the formation of the movement as it was published after On the Road. "It describes the state of mind from which all unessentials have been stripped, leaving it receptive to everything around it, but impatient with trivial obstructions. To be beat is to be at the bottom of your personality, looking up."[41]

See also

Off the Road (1990 book by Carolyn Cassady)

Love Always, Carolyn

Jack Kerouac Reads On the Road