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iwanthermidnightz · 5 years

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“Not a shot. Not a single chance. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”

Taylor Swift — who, at 30, has reached a Zen state of cheerful realism — laughs as she leans into a pillow she’s placed over her crossed legs inside her suite at the Beverly Hilton Hotel, leaning further still into her infinitesimal odds of winning a Golden Globe, which will zero out when she heads down to the televised ball in a few hours.

Never mind whether or not the tune she co-wrote, “Beautiful Ghosts,” might actually have been worthy of a trophy for best original song (or shortlisted for an Oscar, which it was not). Since the Globe nominations were revealed, voters could hardly have been immune to how quickly the film it’s a part of, “Cats,” in which she also co-stars, became a whipping boy for jokes about costly Hollywood miscalculations and creative disasters. Not that you’ll hear Swift utter a discouraging word about it all. “I’m happy to be here, happy to be nominated, and I had a really great time working on that weird-ass movie,” she declares. “I’m not gonna retroactively decide that it wasn’t the best experience. I never would have met Andrew Lloyd Webber or gotten to see how he works, and now he’s my buddy. I got to work with the sickest dancers and performers. No complaints.”

If this leads you to believe that the pop superstar is in the business of sugarcoating things, consider her other new movie — a vastly more significant documentary that presents Swift not just sans digital fur but without a whole lot of the varnish of the celebrity-industrial complex. The Netflix-produced “Taylor Swift: Miss Americana” has a prestige slot as the Jan. 23 opening night gala premiere of the Sundance Film Festival before it reaches the world as a day-and-date theatrical release and potential streaming monster on Jan. 31.

The doc spends much of its opening act juxtaposing the joys of creation with the aggravations of global stardom — the grist of many a pop doc, if rendered in especially intimate detail — before taking a more provocative turn in its last reel to focus more tightly on how and why Swift became a political animal. It’s the story of an earnest young woman with a self-described “good girl” fixation working through her last remaining fears of being shamed as she comes to embrace her claws, and her causes.

Given that the film portrays how gradually, and sometimes reluctantly, Swift came to place herself into service as a social commentator, “Miss Americana” is a portrait of the birth of an activist. Director Lana Wilson sets the movie up so that it pivots on a couple of big letdowns for its subject. The first comes early in the film, and early in the morning, when Swift’s publicist calls to update her on how many of the top three Grammy categories her 2017 album “Reputation” is nominated for: zilch. She’s clearly bummed about the record’s brushoff by the awards’ nominating committee, as just about anyone who’d previously won album of the year twice would be, and determinedly tells her rep that she’s just going to make a better record.

But she suffers what feels like a more meaningful blow toward the end of the film. In the fall of 2018, Swift finally comes out of the closet politically to intervene on behalf of Democrats in a midterm election in her home state of Tennessee. As the Washington Post put it, this announcement “fell like a hammer across the Trump-worshipping subforums of the far-right Internet, where people had convinced themselves… that the world-famous pop star was a secret MAGA fan.” Donald Trump goes on camera to smirk that he now likes Swift’s music a little less. The singer is successful in enlisting tens of thousands of young people to register to vote, but her senatorial candidate of choice, Democrat Phil Bredesen, loses to Republican Marsha Blackburn, whom she’d called out as a flagrant enemy of feminism and gay rights.

“Definitely, that was a bigger disappointment for me,” Swift says, pitting the midterm snub against the Grammy snub. “I think what’s going on out in the world is bigger than who gets a prize at the party.”

It was not always thus for Swift — as the detractors who dragged her for staying quiet during the last presidential election eagerly pointed out. If you had to pick the most embarrassing or regrettable moment in “Miss Americana,” it might be the TV clip from “The Late Show With David Letterman” in which the host brings up politics and gets Swift to essentially advocate the “Shut up and sing” mantra. As the studio audience roars approval of her vow to stay apolitical, Letterman gives her what now looks like history’s most dated fist bump.

Thinking back on it, Swift is incredulous. “Every time I didn’t speak up about politics as a young person, I was applauded for it,” she says. “It was wild. I said, ‘I’m a 22-year-old girl — people don’t want to hear what I have to say about politics.’ And people would just be like, ‘Yeahhhhh!’”

At that point, Swift was already starting to record isolated pop tracks, taking baby steps that would soon turn into full strides away from her initial genre. But whether she had designs on switching lanes or not, the lesson of the Dixie Chicks’ forced exile after Natalie Maines’ comment against then-President George W. Bush had branded itself onto her brain at an earlier age, when she’d just planted her young-teen flag in Nashville and overheard a lot of the lamentations of older Music Row songwriters about how the Chicks had thrown it all away.

“I saw how one comment ended such a powerful reign, and it terrified me,” says Swift. “These days, with social media, people can be so mad about something one day and then forget what they were mad about a couple weeks later. That’s fake outrage. But what happened to the Dixie Chicks was real outrage. I registered it — that you’re always one comment away from being done being able to make music.”

Maybe the most transfixing scene in “Miss Americana” is one where Swift argues with her father and other members of her team about the statement she’s about to release coming out against Blackburn and — it’s clear from her references to White House opposition to the Equality Act — Donald Trump too. The comments were so spontaneous that Wilson wasn’t there to film the moment, but the director had asked people to turn on the camera if anything interesting transpired, and here it most certainly did.

“For 12 years, we’ve not got involved in politics or religion,” an unnamed associate says to Swift, suggesting that going down the road of standing against a president as well as Republican gubernatorial and Senate candidates could have the effect of halving her audience on tour. Her father chimes in: “I’ve read the entire [statement] and … right now, I’m terrified. I’m the guy that went out and bought armored cars.”

“I needed to get to a point where I was ready, able and willing to call out bullshit rather than just smiling my way through it.” TAYLOR SWIFT

But Swift is adamant about pressing the button to send a nearly internet-breaking Instagram post, saying that Blackburn has voted against reauthorizing the Violence Against Women Act as well as LGBTQ-friendly bills: “I can’t see another commercial [with] her disguising these policies behind the words ‘Tennessee Christian values.’ I live in Tennessee. I am Christian. That’s not what we stand for.” Pushing back tears, she laments not having come out against Trump two years earlier, “but I can’t change that. … I need to be on the right side of history. … Dad, I need you to forgive me for doing it, because I’m doing it.”

Says Swift now, “This was a situation where, from a humanity perspective, and from what my moral compass was telling me I needed to do, I knew I was right, and I really didn’t care about repercussions.” She understands why she faced such heated opposition in the room: “My dad is terrified of threats against my safety and my life, and he has to see how many stalkers we deal with on a daily basis, and know that this is his kid. It’s where he comes from.”

Swift was recently announced as the recipient of a Vanguard Award from GLAAD, and she name-checked the org in her basher-bashing single “You Need to Calm Down,” which was released as one of the teaser tracks for last fall’s more outwardly directed and socially conscious “Lover” album. Part of her politicization, she says, is feeling it would be hypocritical to hang out with her gay friends while leaving them to their own devices politically. In the film, she says, “I think it is so frilly and spineless of me to stand onstage and go ‘Happy Pride Month, you guys,’ and then not say this, when someone’s literally coming for their neck.”

A year and a half later, she elaborates: “To celebrate but not advocate felt wrong for me. Using my voice to try to advocate was the only choice to make. Because I’ve talked about equality and sung about it in songs like ‘Welcome to New York,’ but we are at a point where human rights are being violated. When you’re saying that certain people can be kicked out of a restaurant because of who they love or how they identify, and these are actual policies that certain politicians vocally stand behind, and they disguise them as family values, that is sinister. So, so dark.”

Her increasing alignment with the LGBTQ community wasn’t the only thing raising her consciousness to a breaking — i.e., speaking — point. So did the sexual assault trial in which judgment was rendered that she had been groped by a DJ in a backstage photo op (for financial restitution, Swift had asked for $1).

Her experience with the trial was crucial, she says, in finding herself “needing to speak up about beliefs I’d always had, because it felt like an opportunity to shed light on what those trials are like. I experienced it as a person with extreme privilege, so I can only imagine what it’s like when you don’t have that. And I think one theme that ended up emerging in the film is what happens when you are not just a people pleaser but someone who’s always been respectful of authority figures, doing what you were supposed to do, being polite at all costs. I still think it’s important to be polite, but not at all costs,” she says. “Not when you’re being pushed beyond your limits, and not when people are walking all over you. I needed to get to a point where I was ready, able and willing to call out bulls— rather than just smiling my way through it.”

That came into play when Kanye West stepped into her life and publicly shamed her a second time. In the video Kim Kardashian released in 2016, you can hear the people-pleasing Swift on the other end of the line sheepishly thanking him for letting her know about the “Me and Taylor might still have sex” line he plans to include about her in a song — only to regret it later when the eventual track also includes the claim “Why? I made that bitch famous.” The boast, of course, referred back to the moment when he interrupted her and stole her spotlight at the MTV VMAs six years earlier as she was in the middle of an acceptance speech. West’s is not a name that ever publicly escapes Swift’s lips, so it might be surprising to fans that these events are recapped in “Miss Americana,” although Swift says the filmic decisions were all up to the director, who explains that Swift’s reaction to the episode was important to include.

“With the 2009 VMAs, it surprised me that when she talked about how the whole crowd was booing, she thought that they were booing her, and how devastating that was,” says Wilson. “That was something I hadn’t thought about or heard before, and made it much more relatable and understandable to anyone.”

“I see the movie as looking at the flip side of being America’s sweetheart.” LANA WILSON, DIRECTOR OF “TAYLOR SWIFT: MISS AMERICANA”

Swift acknowledges how formative both incidents have been in her life, for ill and good. “As a teenager who had only been in country music, attending my very first pop awards show,” she says now, “somebody stood up and sent me the message: ‘You are not respected here. You shouldn’t be here on this stage.’ That message was received, and it burrowed into my psyche more than anyone knew. … That can push you one of two ways: I could have just curled up and decided I’m never going to one of those events ever again, or it could make me work harder than anyone expects me to, and try things no one expected, and crave that respect — and hopefully one day get it.

“But then when that person who sparked all of those feelings comes back into your life, as he did in 2015, and I felt like I finally got that respect (from West), but then soon realized that for him it was about him creating some revisionist history where he was right all along, and it was correct, right and decent for him to get up and do that to a teenage girl…” She sighs. “I understand why Lana put it in.”

Adds the woman who started her recent “Lover” album with a West-allusive romp that’s pointedly called “I Forgot That You Existed”: “I don’t think too hard about this stuff now.”

What’s not in the film is any mention of her other most famous nemeses — Scooter Braun and Scott Borchetta of Big Machine Records, with whom she’s scrapped publicly for several months. “The Big Machine stuff happened pretty late in our process,” says Wilson. “We weren’t that far from picture lock. But there’s also not much to say that isn’t publicly known. I feel like Taylor’s put the story out there in her own words already, and it’s been widely covered. I was interested in telling the story that hadn’t been told before, that would be surprising and emotionally powerful to audiences whether they were music industry people or not.”

Still, the way Swift has been willing to stand up politically for others parallels the manner in which she stood up for herself in regard to Braun, et al., at the recent Billboard Women in Music Awards, where she gave an altogether blistering speech, naming names and taking no prisoners, going after the men who now control her six-album Big Machine back catalog. Certainly Swift was aware that, along with supporters, there were many friends and business associates of Braun among the VIPs in the Hollywood Palladium who would not be pleased with what this very reformed people-pleaser had to say.

One thing everyone who was in the room agrees on is that you could hear a pin drop as Swift used the speech to get even bolder about the meat of these disputes. Some would say it’s because they were riveted by her boldness in speaking truth to power, others because they just felt uncomfortable. Says one fellow honoree who works in a high position in the industry (and who’s worked with some high-profile Braun clients): “People were excited for her at the beginning of the speech. But once she started going in a negative direction at an event that is supposed to be celebrating accomplishments and rah-rah for women, I felt it fell flat with a good portion of the room, because it wasn’t the appropriate place to be saying it.”

Wasn’t it intimidating for Swift, knowing she might be polarizing an auditorium full of the most powerful people in the business? “Well, I do sleep well at night knowing that I’m right,” she responds, “and knowing that in 10 years it will have been a good thing that I spoke about artists’ rights to their art, and that we bring up conversations like: Should record deals maybe be for a shorter term, or how are we really helping artists if we’re not giving them the first right of refusal to purchase their work if they want to?”

“Obviously, anytime you’re standing up against or for anything, you’re never going to receive unanimous praise. But that’s what forces you to be brave. And that’s what’s different about the way I live my life now.” (Braun’s camp did not respond to a request for comment.)

One thing Taylor Swift can’t bend to her determined will is her family’s health. She revealed a few years ago that her mother, Andrea, a beloved figure among the thousands of fans who’ve met her at road shows, is battling breast cancer. Swift addressed the uncertainty of that struggle in an anguished song on her latest album, “Soon You’ll Get Better.” Many who view “Miss Americana” will look for signs of how her mom is doing. The subject comes up in a section of the film that includes a relatively light-hearted scene in in which it’s shown that one of Andrea Swift’s ways of saying “eff you” to cancer recently was to break the mold and bring a canine — her “cancer dog” — into a famously feline-friendly family.

The real answer may come in Swift’s touring activity for “Lover.” Whereas typically she’d spend nine months in the year after an album release on the road, she plans to limit herself to four stadium dates in America this summer and a trip around the festival circuit in Europe. This may not be 100% for personal reasons: “I wanted to be able to perform in places that I hadn’t performed in as much, and to do things I hadn’t done before, like Glastonbury,” she says. “I feel like I haven’t done festivals, really, since early in my career — they’re fun and bring people together in a really cool way. But I also wanted to be able to work as much as I can handle right now, with everything that’s going on at home. And I wanted to figure out a way that I could do both those things.”

Is being able to be there for her mother the main concern? “Yeah, that’s it. That’s the reason,” she says. “I mean, we don’t know what is going to happen. We don’t know what treatment we’re going to choose. It just was the decision to make at the time, for right now, for what’s going on.”

In her case, it’s as if her manager had taken seriously ill as well as the person she’s always been closest to, all at once. “Everyone loves their mom; everyone’s got an important mom,” she allows. “But for me, she’s really the guiding force. Almost every decision I make, I talk to her about it first. So obviously it was a really big deal to ever speak about her illness.” During filming, when Andrea’s breast cancer had returned for a second time, “she was going through chemo, and that’s a hard enough thing for a person to go through.” Then it got harder. Speaking about this latest development publicly for the first time, Swift quietly reveals: “While she was going through treatment, they found a brain tumor. And the symptoms of what a person goes through when they have a brain tumor is nothing like what we’ve ever been through with her cancer before. So it’s just been a really hard time for us as a family.”

Compared with that, nearly any other topic the movie might address would pale. But it finds weightiness in addressing other kinds of unhealthiness, like the physical expectations that are placed on women in general and celebrity women specifically, Swift being no exception. In this department, she has her own heroines. “I love people like Jameela Jamil, because he way she speaks about body image, it’s almost like she speaks in a hook. Women are held to such a ridiculous standard of beauty, and we’re seeing so much on social media that makes us feel like we are less than, or we’re not what we should be, that you kind of need a mantra to repeat in your head when you start to have unhealthy thoughts. I swear the way Jameela speaks is like lyrics — it gets stuck in my head and it calms me down.”

Swift’s collaborator in this messaging, Wilson, was on a list of potential directors Netflix gave her when she expressed interest in possibly doing a documentary to follow the concert special that premiered on the service just over a year ago. You could discern a feminist message, if you chose to, in the fact that Swift chose a director most well known for a documentary about abortion providers, “After Tiller.” Swift says she was most impressed, though, that Wilson’s docs look for nuance and subtlety in addressing subjects that do lend themselves to soapboxes, and their first conversation was about their mutual desire to avoid “propaganda” in any form.

If there’s a feminist agenda in “Miss Americana,” Wilson and Swift wanted it to emerge naturally, although the director admits it was pretty blatant from the outset, given that she set up the film (which is co-produced by Morgan Neville, the director’s “sounding board”) with an all-female crew. Or nearly all-female, says Wilson, laughing, “I will say that we did always have male production assistants, because I like trying to show people that men can fetch coffee for women.”

Adds Wilson, “When I started filming, it was before she’d come out politically. She knew that she was coming out of a very dark period, and wanted collaborate on something that captured what she was going through and that was really raw and honest and emotionally intimate.” The political awakening, the director says, “was a profound decision for her to make. In that, I saw this feminist coming of age story that I personally connected with, and that I really think women and girls around the world will see themselves in.”

“The bigger your career gets, the more you struggle with the idea that a lot of people see you the same way they see an iPhone or a Starbucks.” TAYLOR SWIFT

The film borrows its title from a song on the “Lover” album, “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince,” that’s maybe the one fully allegorical song Swift has ever released — and, in its fashion, is a great protest song. The entire lyric is a metaphor for how Swift grew up as an unblinking patriot and has had to reluctantly leave behind her naiveté in the age of Trump. Her partner on that track, as well as other message songs like “You Need to Calm Down” and “The Man,” was a co-writer and co-producer new to her stable of collaborators this time around, Joel Little.

With the song “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince,” although the lyrics are cloaked in metaphor, “We like to think it was a very clear statement,” Little says. “There are lots of little hidden messages within that song that are all pointing toward the way that she thinks and feels about politics and the United States. I love that it uses a lot of classic Taylor Swift imagery, in terms of the songwriting topics of high school and cheerleaders, as a clever nod to what she’s done in the past, but tied in with a heavy political message.”

“Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince” doesn’t actually appear in the documentary, but the director says the film’s title is understood by fans as an obvious reference to political themes in the number. “Even if you don’t know the song,” Wilson says, “I see the movie as looking at the flip side of being America’s sweetheart, so I like how the title evokes that too.”

The doc doesn’t lack for its own protest songs though. In the wake of her midterm disappointment, Swift is seen writing an anthem for millennials who might have come away disillusioned with the political process. That previously unheard song, “Only the Young,” is seen being demo-ed before it plays in full over the end credits; it’ll be released as a digital single in conjunction with the doc. Key lyric: ““You did all that you could do / The game was rigged, the ref got tricked/ The wrong ones think they’re right / We were outnumbered — this time.”

“One thing I think is amazing about her,” says Wilson, “is that she goes to the studio and to songwriting as a place to process what she’s going through. I loved how, when she got the Grammy news (about “Reputation”), this isn’t someone who’s going to feel sorry for herself or say ‘That wasn’t right.’ She’s like, ‘Okay, I’m going to work even harder.’ You see her strength of character in that moment when she gets that news. And then with the election results, I loved how she channeled so many of her thoughts and feelings into ‘Only the Young.’ It was a great way to kind of show how stuff that happens in her life goes directly into the songs; you get to witness that in both cases.

So is the film aimed at satisfying the fan base or teasing the unconvinced hordes who might dial it up as a free stream? “I think it’s a little bit of both,” Swift says. “I chose Netflix because it’s a very vast, accessible medium to people who are just like, ‘Hey, what’s this? I’m bored.’ I love that, because I do so many things that cater specifically to fans that like my music, I think it’s important to put yourself out there to people who don’t care at all about you.”

In the wake of the last round of Kanye-gate, stung by the backlash of those who took his side, Swift took a three-year break from interviews. The mantra of her 2017 album “Reputation” and subsequent tour was “No explanations.” But her Beyoncé-style press blackout was a passing phase. With “Lover” and now, especially, the documentary, she could hardly be more about the explanations. Although this interview is the only one she currently plans to do about the documentary, it’s clear that she’s come back into a season of openness, and that she considers it her natural habitat.

“I really like the whole discussion around music. And during ‘Reputation,’ it never felt like it was ever going to be about music, no matter what I said or did,” she says. “I approach albums differently, in how I want to show them to the world or what I feel comfortable with at that time in my life.” Being more transparent “feels great with this album. I really feel like I could just keep making stuff — it’s that vibe right now. I don’t think I’ve ever written this much. That’s exhibited in ‘Lover’ having the most songs that I’ve ever had on an album” (18, to be exact). “But even after I made the album, I kept writing and going in the studio. That’s a new thing I’ve experienced this time around. That openness kind of feels like you finally got the lid off a jar you’ve been working at for years.”

Cipher-dom never could have stood for long for someone who’s established herself as one of the most accomplished confessional singer-songwriters in pop history. “I don’t really operate very well as an enigma,” she says. “It’s not fulfilling to me. It works really well in a lot of pop careers, but I think that it makes me feel completely unable to do what I had gotten in this to do, which is to communicate to people. I live for the feeling of standing on a stage and saying, ‘I feel this way,’ and the crowd responding with ‘We do too!’ And me being like, ‘Really?’ And they’re like, ‘Yes!’”

Swift believes talking things up again isn’t a form of giving in to narcissism — it’s a way of warding off commodification.

“The bigger your career gets, the more you struggle with the idea that a lot of people see you the same way they see an iPhone or a Starbucks,” she muses. “They’ve been inundated with your name in the media, and you become a brand. That’s inevitable for me, but I do think that it’s really necessary to feel like I can still communicate with people. And as a songwriter, it’s really important to still feel human and process things in a human way. The through line of all that is humanity, and reaching out and talking to people and having them see things that aren’t cute.

#swift finally comes out of the closet politically.... yes they REALLY wrote that

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sweetfogarty · 5 years

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In the Pursuit of Justice || Chapter Three

Summary: After taking theatre classes after school for months, Midge Klump is delighted to be cast, albeit by a technical default, as Carrie White in the Riverdale High production of Carrie: The Musical. On debut night, Midge is murdered in cold blood and a witch hunt ensues to find the killer and bring him to justice. Fangs Fogarty finds himself in the crosshairs of this witch hunt, which culminates in him being arrested and charged as Midge’s killer.

Robin Allard, a public defender, is assigned to his case and together they fight the uphill battle to try and prove his innocence in court, finding skeletons in each other’s closets along the way. Robin may believe that Fangs is innocent, but will 12 jurors think the same? And will Fangs Fogarty be found guilty or not guilty of the murder of Midge Klump?

Rating: Mature

Word count: 9.5K+

Chapter warnings: Reference to character death, systemic racism, anxiety, religion.

MASTERLIST

The Bijou was quiet, the neon light of the sign casting a glow over the dampened Riverdale streets, catching on puddles that collected in dips in the road and pavement. It had poured earlier in the day, blackened, nasty storm clouds had been lingering over the town for a few hours like a curse given to them from the witches in the neighbouring town of Greendale, but finally after the heavens had opened, the clouds dissipated and a faint petrichor smell lingered in the streets.

Midge had hoped that the rain would subsist so that the streets would be quiet when she made her journey to the Bijou, but sneaking through a town where everyone knew everyone felt exhilarating. The danger made her heart beat faster in a way that was deliciously addictive.

She ducked into the Bijou, putting down her hood after she surveyed the empty lobby and checked her watch. It was a little past 11pm on a Tuesday and she hoped that with school exams coming up she wouldn’t see anyone she knew. She wanted to enjoy the movie, and not have to worry about the prying eyes of her classmates.

“I’ll have a large popcorn please, oh, and a coke.” Midge smiled, fingering a $10 note anxiously as she approached the snack stand, taking another opportunity to look around the movie theatre’s lobby.

The cinema attendant gave her a small nod, turning away from her as she filled up her coke. “No Moose tonight?” she called over her shoulder.

Midge’s stomach churned, a momentary pang of guilty coursing through her veins- she thought she recognised the concession attendant, but she hadn’t been sure. Her grip tightened on the bill in her hands, before quickly loosening, her well-trained smile regaining its place on her face as if she hadn’t had a moment of panic.

“No, he’s got a test in the morning so couldn’t make it out tonight,” Midge shrugged, a small but convincing pout taking over her face. “I’ve wanted to see this movie for ages though, so I couldn’t wait- I’ll end up seeing spoilers and then I’ll get annoyed. It’s not weird to see movies by yourself, is it?”

The attendant gave a hearty laugh as she scooped popcorn into a large bag, setting it carefully on the side before she took the bill from Midge. “Oh god no,” she laughed, shooting Midge a quick grin. “Compared to some of the shit I’ve seen in here, seeing a movie by yourself is totally normal.”

Midge let out a sigh of relief and the girls exchanged a laugh as she dropped her change into her purse. She scooped up her popcorn and coke, rolling her eyes as she accidentally dropped a handful sized amount of popcorn onto the floor. “I’m not sure I want to know what kind of stuff you’ve seen here, but deep down, a weird part of me really wants to know now. You’ll have to tell me next time I decide to see a movie by myself.”

“Next time,” the girl nodded in agreement, a grin taking over her face as she scrunched her nose. “Enjoy your movie- it’s a good one!”

Midge kicked the door of the theatre open, using her bum to hold it as she manoeuvred her way in, trying her hardest to not drop any more of her popcorn on the floor. She eyed the rows of seats, instinctively making her way to the back, shimmying her way along the row until she was tucked away in the back corner. She set her popcorn and drink down, shrugging her coat off with ease and throwing it onto the back of the seat in front of hers. Being at the last showing on a weeknight meant no one else was in the theatre and she could take up as much space as she wanted without feeling guilty.

The lights dimmed and previews for upcoming movies started rolling. Midge sat comfortably eating her popcorn, engrossed by the trailers, barely registering a shadowy figure taking the seat next to her.

“You made it then,” he whispered, taking a handful of popcorn from her bag with a grin on his face.

Midge jumped out of her skin, her hand coming over her heart in shock as she looked towards the voice, her arms prickling with goose bumps.

“God, Fangs, don’t do that,” she giggled breathlessly, bumping shoulders with him. “I think I just had a heart attack; you could have killed me.”

“I would never,” he laughed quietly as the trailers continued to play, taking more popcorn. He chucked a piece up and caught it in his mouth, a smug grin weaving its way across all of his features as he wiggled his eyebrows at Midge. “You know, I didn’t think you would come tonight.”

Midge quirked her brows, taking a sip of her coke. “Really? Why?”

Fangs was taken aback by her question, and the look on his face clearly conveyed that. He thought the answer was obvious, but maybe he was overthinking it. “Uh, Moose? Your boyfriend?”

Midge let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head at the blush that crept onto Fangs’ face. “Well we’re not doing anything bad. Moose wouldn’t mind- he knows I want to see this film, and plus people see movies together all the time, right? It’s only a movie.”

It’s only a movie, Fangs thought. If it was only a movie, why were they sneaking around after dark? Why did they arrive separately? Why didn’t Moose know? He knew it wasn’t as black and white as Midge said it was, but something about the sneaking around and being secretive was as exciting to him as it was to Midge. He hadn’t felt a thrill like it before, and he wasn’t sure whether it was the thrill of being covert, or whether it was the thrill of being around Midge. But he liked it either way.

Any negative thoughts were quickly expelled as the film started rolling in front of them. It was a romance, a classic forbidden romance. It wasn’t something Fangs would usually watch, or rather admit that he’d watched, but when Midge had texted him asking if he wanted to see it, he couldn’t say no. She was so sweet, and he didn’t want to disappoint her. He wanted to be someone who she enjoyed being around, even if it meant he had to watch the film with a synopsis that was eerily similar to the situation he found himself in.

Fangs kicked his feet up onto the seat in front of him, crossing his legs as he relaxed into his seat, letting out a content sigh as he did so. Almost instinctively, Midge dipped her head and settled it on his shoulder gently.

Fangs could feel his pulse racing. Her head was rested so daintily against his shoulder and she looked so peaceful with the movie reflecting in her glossy eyes. The light and shadows cast on her face from the screen made her look angelic and more beautiful than he’d ever admitted to himself. Now that Fangs had stopped to look at her properly and up close, he felt something unfamiliar creaking in his chest.

The Serpent tugged his lip between his teeth as he shifted position, holding his breath as he inched his arm around Midge, settling it cautiously across her shoulders. She looked up at him, a hint of a smile adorning her pretty face, before she turned her attention back towards the film and moved a little closer to her companion for the night. Fangs let out a breath of relief and pulled her even closer, the pair exchanging an excited giggle as their legs tangled together on the seats in front of them, spending the rest of the film wrapped up in each other’s company.

The 21 days of freedom Fangs had between his arraignment hearing and the first day of his trial seemed like the longest and also simultaneously shortest 21 days of his life.

At first, he was excited to get back to normality. This was quickly hampered by Principle Weatherbee, who put him on leave from school until after his trial, justifying it as a means to protect Fangs’ personal safety. Deep down he knew that Weatherbee just didn’t want to deal with any potential flak from concerned parents for allowing an accused murderer to remain on school premises. Fangs received his assignments via email and Sweet Pea began to make a real effort in his classes to make sure that his best friend had access to the best notes. He even went as far as to stay behind to ask questions and discuss material with the teachers, the thought of which previously repulsed him. He went the extra mile for his brother- he didn’t want him to fall behind in case he was found not guilty and got to come back to school.

On the first night of his freedom, Fangs, Toni, Sweet Pea and Jughead found themselves lounging in a leather booth at Pop’s, getting milkshakes and burgers in celebration of having 21 days of familiarity back. It was almost like being in the eye of a hurricane; everything would be momentarily calm for the next 21 days before the chaos started again. Or so they hoped. But Fangs, with his status as an accused murderer, was infamous, and his face had been on news outlets across the state which made him instantly recognisable. A simple trip to the town’s diner, which previously would have been an enjoyable outing, was tinged with smoke in the air. Whispers and dirty looks, although subtle, did not go unnoticed, and from that night onwards the Serpents did home deliveries to Fangs’ trailer.

For the next 20 days Fangs spent his time with Maria and Hot Dog, along with the other Serpents when they weren’t at school without him. It dawned on him quickly that this wasn’t the freedom he’d thought it might be and hoped for. Around him, everyone else’s worlds seemed to carry on turning, whereas his felt like it was on a collision course with an asteroid. Although he was in a self-imposed exile from the rest of the town, he knew that if he ventured outside of the confines of Sunnyside Trailer Park that he was putting a target on his back. Some nights when he was lonely and felt like this was the reality of his life forever, he thought about going out into the deep, dark streets of Riverdale, hoping that the Black Hood would sweep in and put him out of his misery.

The start date of his trial couldn’t come quick enough.

On the afternoon before his trial Fangs had become restless. The inside of his trailer felt more like prison more the cold cell he’d spent his time in inside the Sheriff’s Office. He’d become agitated, pacing around the trailer like he was trying to wear a hole in the carpet, straightening and tidying things that didn’t need to be straightened or tidied and trying and failing to do his school work. It took one glance at his worn leather skin before he slung it over his shoulders and trudged outside into the spring sun.

It was fresh outside. It felt especially fresh to Fangs who hadn’t stepped foot out of his trailer for the last 20 days, even to sit on the deck chairs outside with Sweet Pea to have a beer by the fire. Fangs had become so traumatised by the mob and the news articles and the looks that he couldn’t bear to be outside. But at that moment, being inside his trailer seemed less appealing than being heckled or attacked by strangers in the town.

Fangs’ doc martens crunched against the gravel of the trailer park as he exited its confines, his hands firmly planted in his pockets as he trudged his way towards the Northern side of town. He passed Pop’s- it had had a lick of paint since the riots. He could see Pop Tate in the window and as much as he wanted to go in, grab a milkshake and try again to pretend like everything was normal, he carried on walking. Next, he passed the Riverdale Register and he suddenly felt overwhelmed- maybe if the video of him with Midge hadn’t been posted by Alice Cooper then he would never have been arrested, but then again, maybe this was all inevitable.

Finally, he caught site of what he was looking for. Out on a green slightly set back from the main streets of Riverdale, a church stood by itself, untainted by the riots. Fangs started up the path, eyeing the cross at the top of the steeple carefully. Although his family had placed somewhat of an importance on God, this had never quite translated or resonated within himself. He hadn’t been to church since he was a young boy, aside from when he attended family weddings or christenings, and yet this was the only place he felt he could go where he didn’t feel like he’d be shunned.

He nervously stepped through the front door, looking around for a sign that someone was here, but the church was silent. He took a few more steps in, wandering towards the nave. His fingertips touched the pews as he walked down the aisle and finally, he reached the front of the rows, taking a seat and dipping his head down as his hands instinctively clasped together in his lap. He didn’t know whether he was meant to say anything, or whether he was just meant to sit there in silence, but the words he was thinking just spilled out into a string of consciousness.

“God, man, I know I don’t come here often but I really am screwed. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to say screwed in church, but I can’t think of another way to express how messed up this situation is and I didn’t know where else to go. I, just…” he paused, blinking back the tears that were glossing his eyes. “I didn’t kill her. I really didn’t and yet here I am with my court date tomorrow where-“

“Can I help you, son?” A voice called from the back of the nave, interrupting and startling Fangs. He whipped his head around and his eyes settled on a middle-aged man who he recognised as Pastor Boyd, the father of Midge’s best friend, Lydia Boyd, a fellow student in his classes.

“Pastor Boyd, hi, I didn’t mean to come in uninvited- I couldn’t see anyone around when I got here. I can go if you want me to- I know your daughter was Midge’s best friend, so I don’t want to overstay my welcome given the situation,” Fangs spoke frantically, an underlying stress lacing his voice. He should have known coming to church would have been a less than ideal situation given the Boyd’s connection to the Klump’s, but Fangs had been so flustered when he’d left that he didn’t even stop to think about the implications.

“Don’t be a fool,” Pastor Boyd replied calmly with a chuckle, taking a seat next to Fangs on the pew. “My daughter may well have been friends with Midge, but this church is for everyone. What kind of man, let alone what kind of Pastor, would I be to turn you away in a time of need?”

“Thank you, Pastor Boyd,” Fangs glanced to the side, sending him a barely-there smile. The teen looked up at the stained-glass windows that towered above them, the light shining through to illuminate a scene of Jesus on the cross. It instantly sent him back to the moment he saw Midge crucified on stage and he flinched, shaking the thoughts from his head as quickly as they’d entered it. Fangs’ gaze dropped down to his hands as he fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket, pursing his lips together. “You probably already know, but my trial starts tomorrow,” he stopped for a moment, before allowing himself to carry on. “I’m terrified. I’m just hoping to get some guidance or luck, or just a sign that everything will be okay. But I know everyone already thinks I did it, that I killed Midge, so actually maybe what I’m hoping for is a miracle.”

Pastor Boyd set his hand on Fangs’ shoulder, giving him a small, encouraging shake and a fatherly smile. He could see that the boy was hurting deeply. “I’ll say two prayers tonight- one for Midge, and one for you. I don’t know what happened on that night, and it’s not my job to pass judgement on it, but I hope the outcome of the trial, whatever it is, is the right one.”

The court house had never been as busy as it was the morning that Fangs’ trial officially started. Media outlets from Riverdale, the neighbouring towns and even across the state gathered outside to catch a glimpse of the teenager, who had been branded The Southside Slayer, in the flesh. They wanted to see what kind of person could be capable of using a young girl as a human pin cushion, and who could leave her like a sacrifice and a warning to an entire town. The reporters were rabid and feral and wouldn’t be satiated until they got their ‘scoop’. The scenes outside of the court were reminiscent of the night of Fangs’ release from the Station, and it made his skin crawl.

As he made his way up the marbled steps alongside Robin and Maria, the press heckled them and threw hundreds of questions their way, including one that made Fangs physically recoil in discomfort.

“Mr Fogarty, what do you think of the name the public has given your crime? The Carrie Crucifixion?”

Fangs’ eyes shut instinctively, stress settling into the lines of his face. His grasp on his Mum’s hand tightened immensely to an almost bone crushing vice-like grip. Robin stopped instantaneously, turning to face the reporters and dropping her head to the side in a look of disbelief.

“Which one of you said that?” She asked shortly, looking over the media group before her eyes settled on a blonde news anchor who slowly raised her hand. Robin’s eyes narrowed, her lips flattening into a straight line and her eyebrows knitting together angrily. “My client won’t be answering any questions. The trial will speak for itself. Let’s not forget that he is innocent until proven guilty and that Midge Klump’s death is not his crime. You should know better than that, you vultures.”

The trio continued up the stairs until they were safely within the confines of the court’s walls and everything for a moment seemed normal, calm. Robin spoke to the court clerk, leaving Fangs and his Mother together. Maria was still clutching his hand, and the pad of her thumb ran back and forth over it as a small gesture to comfort him. She pulled him into an embrace, squeezing him gently before pulling away and straightening his tie.

“You’ve got to look good for the judge and jury, mi hijo,” Maria gave a breathless laugh, her hands quivering barely as she fiddled with the tie. “I love you and I’ll support you always, you know that right? You’re my baby, and I know you couldn’t do what they did to that poor girl. The jury will see it too, I know it.”

“I love you too, Mum,” Fangs replied softly, a fond smile caressing his face as he looked down on his Mother. She was everything to him, and even at his lowest points she’d only ever shown him unconditional love.

Part of him realised then that that was why he adored Midge so much- the way she cared for people reminded him of the way Maria cared for anyone she encountered, and Midge had shown him the closest thing to unconditional love he’d ever felt from someone who wasn’t family, blood or extended. Maria and Midge would have loved each other, had they ever met.

Robin returned to the pair, nodding for them to follow her, dragging Fangs from his day dreams about Midge.

“We’re in court room five again today, it’ll be the room we’re in throughout the rest of your trial,” Robin spoke quietly to the pair as they scaled a flight of stairs and she tried to concentrate on her movements, her pencil skirt restricting her steps. Fangs breathed a sigh of relief; the room was familiar and so it made him feel a little less alien to the situation. “Today Ms White and I will select the jury. My job is to try to ‘stack’, so to speak, the jury in your favour as much as I can. The jury will, by law, need to contain a mixture of people, but I want to make sure we have as many people who will sympathise with your case on that panel as I can. Men who will think rationally about the case rather than emotionally, people of colour who are, statistically, more likely to distrust the police, people from lower social-economic backgrounds. People like you.”

“That makes sense,” Fangs replied, nodding at Robin as she glanced back with a small smile.

Fangs was appreciative to have gotten an attorney like Robin. She seemed to always look out for him, whether it be simply asking how he was feeling, or publicly putting people who wanted to besmirch him in their place. He didn’t know if she had to do it, or whether it was her choice, but he felt lucky to have been put with her in this situation. Had it been anyone else he was sure he would have crumbled by now and he knew he would have taken the plea deal offered to him. She believed in him and she wanted to go to the ends of the Earth to make sure he walked free, and he just hoped it would be enough.

Inside the court room, bodies were squeezed together shoulder to shoulder and the heat radiating off of everyone made the room uncomfortably warm. Both Robin and Fangs didn’t like to think what it would be like in the height of summer.

Maria squeezed Fangs’ hand as she took her seat in the front row next to Sweet Pea. Fangs and Sweet Pea shared a small nod between them and a knowing look. It meant a lot to the accused teen that his best friend and extended family in the Serpents would come to watch the trial despite how out of place they all seemed. His fellow Serpents Toni Topaz, Joaquin DeSantos and the trio of Jones’- FP, Jughead and Jubilee, all sat further down the aisle and sent encouraging looks Fangs’ way as he took his place next to Robin at the defendant’s table. The Serpents were not strangers to seeing their kind encounter the law, but this time they were scared. When FP had gone down for his involvement in Jason Blossom’s murder, they knew he would be okay- he’d done time before and so could hold his own, but with Fangs, they knew he would be bait and seriously at risk as soon as he got into that prison.

On the other side of the room sat Midge’s Mum and Dad, holding on to each other like if they let go their worlds would end. Moose Mason and Lydia Boyd sat with them, being the closest people they had to Midge that were left. The rest of the court was filled with familiar faces from school and around town, along with a few unfamiliar faces.

Whilst this caused an explosion of nerves deep in the pit of Fangs’ stomach, it filled Robin with adrenaline. She loved performing in court, but if there was one thing she loved more, it was performing in court in front of an audience. Her hair was slung in a neat bun, with her bangs hanging just out of her eyes, and her black blazer had been accented with a small snake pin, in solidarity with Fangs.

Once the court had settled and everything was in order, the Clerk formally began the trial.

“All rise,” the Court Clerk announced, causing the room to rise from their seats as the Judge entered and sat in her throne at the head of the court. “The court of Midvale is now in session, Judge R Vines is presiding, please be seated.”

“Good morning everyone, please be seated,” Judge Vines smiled graciously, glancing around the court. “Hello again Ms White, Miss Allard and Mr Fogarty. Before we begin, are the State and Defendant both ready for trial?”

“Yes, Your Honour,” both women replied in unison, pleasing Judge Vines as she made a note of the readiness of both parties to the case.

“Good. Now, Mr Fogarty, what will happen today is that we will choose twelve jury members to preside over your case. Both the State and the Defence will then have the opportunity to ask questions to those jury members to determine whether they can act impartially, and once jury selection is complete, if we have time, we will then proceed to opening statements.”

There was a collective mumble from the court before the names of twelve jurors were called and one by one, they took their seats in the wooden jury box. The twelve looked nervous, each knowing Fangs Fogarty’s fate could be in their hands if they survived jury selection. Ms White stood from her chair and readied herself to examine the jurors.

“Good morning all, my name is Margaret White and I am acting on behalf of the State today and throughout this trial. Now this is the only occasion that myself and Miss Allard will have to talk to you one on one in this case, and the aim of this discussion is to determine whether this is the kind of case that you can sit on as a fair and impartial juror. There are no right or wrong answers to our questions, we just ask that you are truthful in your responses. Does that make sense to everyone?” Nods came from all twelve jury members and a smile crept onto Ms White’s face. “Perfect. Now before I begin with the more niche questions, has anyone been following this case in the news, or maybe you’ve heard about it on the television or seen something online?”

A few hands raised and Ms White gave each juror a careful, critical look. “And which of you have been actively following the case?”

One juror’s hand remained, a woman in her 50’s who sat at the back of the box with a nonchalant look on her face.

“Mrs Willowson, you’ve been regularly keeping up to date with the murder?”

Willowson gave a nod and took a deep breath. “I’ve been reading about it in the paper and watching the news stories about it. It was a terrible crime so I was interested to see whether the police would make an arrest- I was relieved when they did, it was nice to know that a killer was off the streets.”

Ms White looked towards Judge Vines and clasped her hands together neatly. “On that basis Your Honour, the State would like to move towards excusing this juror for cause on the basis that we feel she would not be able to impartially preside over the case.”

“This court accepts that Ms White,” Judge Vines nodded, directing her attention towards the excused juror. “Thank you for your time Mrs Willowson, you are free to go. You may be called again at a later time but for now you are excused from your duties.”

In Willowson’s place sat then a young Latino gentleman who was sworn in as the new juror. Robin grinned in her seat, putting a small mark in the tally on her notepad. A man like this would be able to empathise with Fangs more so than the previous juror would have been able to- that juror could be the difference between Fangs walking free or never stepping outside of a prison ever again.

“Now I am going to read you the list of witnesses that you will be hearing from and if any of you recognise the name of any of these people, please raise your hand. We will be hearing from the Defendant- Mr Fangs Fogarty; along with Dr Vince Curdle, Michael Minetta, Thomas Keller, Sarah Price, Marmaduke Mason, Reginald Mantle, Forsythe Pendleton ‘Jughead’ Jones III and Nathaniel ‘Sweet Pea’ Mantle. Do any of you recognise any of these names?”

The jurors sat still, a few heads turning to see if anyone had raised their hands. White gave a curt nod to the twelve, a strained smile spreading across her face, crow’s feet settling either side of her eyes.

“Have any of you ever been the victim of a crime, similar to the nature of the one we will be examining here today?”

One hand raised, a middle-aged man at the back who looked nervous. White nodded towards him, prompting him to speak.

“When I was about 28, I was robbed at knifepoint. Obviously, that’s nowhere near the calibre of this matter, but the knife connection is there so I thought I should mention it.”

“Thank you, Mr Barnard, that’s exactly the kind of thing I meant. Anyone else?” White asked, surveying the jury and continuing when no one else volunteered. “Sir, how do you feel about knives and knife crime now?”

Barnard let out an awkward, anxious laugh as he crossed and uncrossed his legs under the desk. “I mean, no one likes knife crime, do they? But to respond to your question, I don’t look at knife-based crime any worse than I do any other kind. It happened and it wasn’t a nice situation to be part of, but it hasn’t affected my judgement in any way.”

“So, you believe you could preside over this case fairly and impartially?”

“I absolutely do,” Barnard nodded in response, sternly and full of integrity.

White’s questioning continued for another hour, resulting in three more jurors being excused from their role. She was subtly ruthless, and Robin realised very quickly that the two women were playing the same game with the jury. White had been asking questions that, although seemingly broad and impartial to anyone else, had a bias against jurors who may rule in Fangs’ favour, that Robin picked up on almost immediately.

As the jury currently stood, it was in favour of the State by three jurors at least and so Robin had her work cut out for her to get things back on track for Fangs. She was nervous- she knew finding a basis to exclude more jurors would be hard, given that they’d already been through White’s gruelling examination, but she had to keep the faith in herself that Fangs and his family had in her. She couldn’t afford to drop the ball so early on.

Robin stood, smoothing her skirt out before ambling out in front of the defence table and standing comfortably in front of the jury.

“Good morning Jurors, my name is Robin Allard and, as you know, I will be acting as the defence attorney for Mr Fogarty. Thank you for your honesty so far, I just have a few more questions for you before we can progress with the trial. I’ll start with an easy one- have any of you heard of the Southside Serpents?”

Almost instantaneously a tattooed hand on the front row of the jury was raised proudly, belonging to a burly man with a shaven head whose shirt pulled against his biceps and chest.

“Mr Garland, how is it that you are familiar with the Southside Serpents?”

Garland unbuttoned the four top buttons of his shirt and pulled it apart, revealing a dark double-headed snake winding over his chest, the heads angry and tongue spitting venom. It was old and faded, a tattoo that had seen better days. “I was a Serpent.”

Behind Robin, the public gallery shuffled uncomfortably. Fangs’ head whipped around, his eyes meeting FP’s, eyebrows knitted together in a bewildered look that FP understood perfectly. The king Serpent nodded shortly, the juniors around him tensing in response. Jubilee looked towards Jughead with the same look that Fangs had displayed moments earlier, eliciting a shrug from her twin who also clearly didn’t recognise the ophidian in front of them. The Serpents were a tight knit community and so it was unusual for the teens to not recognise a fellow snake by their face, and even more so by their name.

Robin faltered slightly. “How is it can you be a Serpent and yet not know the Defendant?”

A brittle smile flickered at the ends of Garland’s lips as he caught FP’s gaze, a hard stare coming from the monarch in return. “I was a Serpent when I was a teen, but I got into some drug trouble in my 20s and I got sent away for the safety of the gang. I grew up with FP Jones, before he was King, but after I got sent away to San Junipero, I never had any more contact with the Serpents. They effectively exiled me, forgot about little old Joe Garland,” he shrugged with a small shake of the head and narrowed eyes. His gaze travelled over the Serpents, once again hanging on FP, before moving back to Robin. “I only moved back to the state last year. The Defendant wasn’t even born when I left, so I never had any contact with him or knew he existed until now.”

The Serpents around FP tensed and recoiled, Joaquin finding it particularly hard to listen to. He’d never really understood why FP sent him away to San Junipero after his involvement with Jason Blossom’s death, despite begging him for an explanation, but finally he understood that it was learned behaviour. FP had seen his friend sent away under another king, and in his Blossom-induced panic, that was the only solution he could think of. It had fixed a situation once, saved the Serpents and Joe Garland from trouble, but it didn’t save them from the personal struggles of dealing with the loss of a brother. Joaquin wished the FP had taken a moment to think of another solution for him rather than just sending him away without a second thought. In the pit of his stomach he knew that the only reason he was back in Riverdale was to smuggle Fangs out of the area if things looked bad, and that if FP didn’t need something from him, he’d still be in San Junipero alone. But he’d take what he could get because he needed the Serpents more than they needed him, and it had been months since he’d seen those who had sworn to stand alongside him for better or for worse.

It was lonely in San Junipero and coming back to Riverdale, even if only for a week, was the only thing he’d looked forward to since he’d been exiled from the snake pit.

FP’s stare didn’t falter, even with the Serpents around him becoming unsettled and Jubilee reaching across his lap to give Joaquin a gentle squeeze on his knee. Joaquin was the second brother she never had and his departure from the gang had been a particularly sore point for her. For a while she resented her father for sending him away, and she, like Joaquin, had never managed to work out why it was that the Serpent King disposed of members when times got tough. She wanted better for Joaquin and she knew that for this to come out in court rather than behind closed doors man to man would be something he would struggle with. For him, this would not be closure, it would be reopening an old wound.

Whilst the Serpents behind her found themselves rattled, Robin stood front and centre with a decision to make. She could keep Garland as a juror and hope that he favoured Fangs’ case, or she could excuse him. In the back of her mind, the angel and devil on her shoulders were bickering, and she picked at the skin around her thumbs out of stress.

“Your honour,” she sucked in a deep breath, holding it in her lungs before she made a snap decision. “I’d like to move to excuse Mr Garland on the basis that I am not sure that he can act impartially due to his connection with the Defendant’s gang.”

A nasty scowl enveloped Fangs’ face and his eyes glazed over with a mixture fury and despair. Arms crossed tightly over his chest, his teeth clenched together around his bottom lip, drawing blood. Putting the pieces together about Joaquin had been bad enough, and now it seemed like Robin wasn’t even on his side. Having a Serpent in the jury was almost one guaranteed ‘not guilty’ vote- he knew it, she knew it, the whole court room knew it, and yet she’d excused him from the jury. Now in his place sat a woman in her 20s who had no reason to believe him.

Robin could sense the tension behind her, quickly moving on in an effort to dispel it.

“Miss Nicholas, have any of the questions we’ve asked so far applied to you?”

The short no from the juror elicited a small smile on Robin’s face, however the back of her mind was still buzzing with dread about explaining this to Fangs. He would struggle to understand why she did it, because the case was so personal for him, but she knew that it was a decision she had to pull to trigger on, regardless of how he might feel.

The rest of Robin’s jury examination was gruelling. She spent close to two hours picking apart every aspect of the jurors’ lives, trying to find any reason to excuse some of them from their post. She was sure some of them resented her for it, but it needed to be done for Fangs’ sake. By the end of her examination, the jury was evenly split- six jurors who Robin thought might be more likely vote in favour of Fangs’ innocence and six she thought might be more likely to vote against him.

“Miss Allard, Ms White, are you ready for opening statements?” Judge Vines asked, making note of the panel of jurors left who would be the ones to decide Fangs’ fate.

“Yes,” the women called out in unison, sharing a nod between them.

White stood, and made her way to the floor, knitting her hands together and pausing as she looked over all of the jurors. She had to make a statement that would hit the jury in the heart and make it impossible for them to see past the violent nature and emotional impact of the crime on Midge’s loved ones and the wider town.

“On the 16th March 2018, Miss Midge Klump awoke, ready to take the stage as Carrie White in Riverdale High’s production of Carrie: The Musical. Midge had been working hard on the role, having been officially cast as Carrie a few weeks into rehearsals after a cast-mate pulled out. She’d been practicing her lines every day, studying the mannerisms of Carrie White and trying to perfect her performance, but it was choosing to meet with Assistant Director, the Defendant, Fangs Fogarty, that led to her untimely demise.” White started, watching the reactions of the public gallery and of each member of the jury. After a brief pause, she continued.

“Mr Fogarty was in a position of influence over Miss Klump- she trusted him as the Assistant Director and felt safe spending her time with him in order to better her performance. But Fangs Fogarty abused this position and he abused her trust by killing her in cold blood at a time that should have been a peak in her high school career. He killed her and left her impaled on the set of the production that he was co-running, allowing for her body to be revealed to the paying audience like some kind of spectacle. Midge Klump was more than a spectacle, she was a human being who had her entire life left to live.”

A whine sounded from Mrs Klump as she clutched her husband’s shirt and cried into his shoulder. The pit of Robin’s stomach dropped, and the rest of the court room’s attention fell to the couple as well. This trial was never going to be easy for them regardless of when it took place, but it was still so fresh for them and for the whole town. The loss of their daughter had created a void that they would never be able to fill- not with pictures, not with memories, not with justice. There would be a Midge shaped hole in their lives forever.

Ms White gave them a sincere look, before motioning towards them as she continued with her opening statement. “From what you can see right now, you can only but imagine how her family felt, seeing their baby left on that stage to die. Their little girl, who had a whole life in front of her, taken from them and paraded like a trophy.” Lydia and Moose held each other; their faces contorted into something utterly broken as they both flashed back to seeing Midge for the last time. “Fangs Fogarty had calculatedly used his knowledge of the production to get her on her own and kill her where they wouldn’t be caught- he led her like a lamb to the slaughter. He used his knowledge to his advantage to commit the perfect crime. Except it wasn’t perfect because he left behind breadcrumb mistakes that have led us here today in an attempt to bring him to justice."

“In this trial you will hear about how Midge was an exceptional student; she was a River Vixen cheerleader who helped her boyfriend Marmaduke Mason study for all his tests and who had an impossibly bright future ahead of her that was cut short. She took extra classes, volunteered, she was on numerous school committees- she was the perfect, all-American student.”

“You will hear from Mr Mason himself, who will tell you about the impact Midge had on his life and what this tragic turn of events has done to him on a more personal level.”

At White’s queue, the court’s attention turned to Moose, who could do nothing apart from blink away tears and pull Lydia that bit tighter to him.

“You’ll hear from Riverdale’s Dr Curdle who will explain exactly what happened to poor Midge Klump and how truly horrific this crime is. It will make you realise how twisted and disgruntled Fangs Fogarty would have had to have been in that very moment to have done what he did to Midge.” White looked towards Fangs with a venom, shaking her head in disgust.

“And on the other side of the coin you’ll hear from Riverdale’s Sheriffs, past and present, about who Fangs Fogarty is and who he associates with. You’ll hear from classmates that he’s a volatile troublemaker who fights and has a bad temper. You’ll come to understand that he has no alibi, possesses the same knives that were used to stab Midge Klump and you’ll hear about how his life led him here today, to this very court room where it is your job to convict him for a crime that he committed.”

Aggravated mumbles came from the Serpents and friends of the Fogarty’s at White’s attack on Fangs’ character. They knew he was none of those things, but the jury didn’t, and with each drop of venom that White spat, besmirching his name more and more, they became more anxious and unsure about his future.

“At the end of this trial, you will deliver a judgment on whether you think the Defendant is guilty or not, of this horrific crime, and after hearing all the testimony from the witnesses, I firmly believe that you will, as I do, believe that Fangs Fogarty is guilty.”

The court was silent as White took her seat, a barely contained smug look tugging at her face. She’d stunned everyone in the room. Mouths hung open, people wiping their eyes and lending each other tissues- the emotional response to Margaret White’s opening statement on behalf of the State had done exactly what she needed it to do, and this meant trouble for Robin and Fangs.

Once again, Robin had to do damage control to try and breakeven with White, when she really needed to have a one-up on her. Robin had known that White was the District Attorney, but she’d hoped that she’d gotten complacent in her security and older age. In actual fact, White was the most challenging attorney Robin had ever come up against, on the hardest case she’d ever had to fight for. It was a bad combination and Robin had a growing fear of losing Fangs like she did Alex.

Robin took the floor, the clicks of her heels against the wood sounding thunderous in the silent room. Robin could have heard a pin drop in there, and for the first time in a long time, she felt nervous and unsure of whether she’d be able to bring the room back around. She was doubting herself.

“My learned friend, opposition counsel Ms Margaret White, just gave a very empathetic opening statement for the Prosecution, but before I begin, I want to remind you that your job in this court room is to convict based on facts, not on emotions,” she started eyeing the jurors carefully as she began to slowly walk around the open space. “Midge Klump’s death was a tragic event that has rocked the whole of Riverdale to its core, challenging every fibre of its moral being. But that does not mean that you must to convict Mr Fogarty at the end of this trial just to bring someone to justice for the crime if you do not, beyond any reasonable doubt, believe that it is he who committed the murder.”

“Midge Klump did wake up on 16th March 2018, excited and ready to give her all into playing Carrie White. She was cast late, meaning she had to work to catch up with the other cast members, and she did go to my client, Mr Fogarty, for help. But what developed between them was not malicious as Ms White has implied, but, as you will hear, it was a tender relationship that both parties desired.”

“Midge Klump’s death was devastating, especially for her family who must have felt like their world was falling apart. But that was not at the hands of my client, a 17-year-old boy who was not only her friend, but also someone who she trusted and who cared for her immensely in more ways than one. He would have done anything she could have ever asked of him and would have given her the world if he could.”

Robin looked towards the Klump’s who hung on her every word, eager to hear about how she was possibly going to defend such a person. They didn’t look disgruntled, angry or bitter, but more pained and vacant. They just wanted some kind of conclusion for their daughter and for themselves so that they could try to move forward with Midge’s legacy.

“From the Defence you will hear a different side of the story. You will hear about how Fangs Fogarty is loyal, courageous and a friend to depend on at any given moment. You’ll hear about how he is the light and soul of any room, how he loves his family with everything he’s got and how he would give someone the clothes off of his back, even if it would help them for just a fraction of a second.”

“You’ll hear about how due to Mr Fogarty’s affiliation with a gang and his residency on the Southside of Riverdale, he has been prejudiced by the Sheriff’s Office repeatedly and shunned by them when he needs them, most recently on the night of his release from custody where he had to escape a mob outside the Station, who then followed and attacked him at his own home.”

In the public gallery, Reggie and Moose shifted uncomfortably, sharing a worried glance between them.

“You will also hear about how there is a serial killer in Riverdale, who is actually responsible for the murder of Midge Klump, but who, due to the aforementioned prejudice, the Sheriff’s Station is not and has not investigated as a possible suspect.”

“But most importantly, you’ll hear about how Fangs Fogarty is innocent. An innocent boy caught up in this mess simply because the Sheriff needed someone to convict and Fangs Fogarty happened to be the first person who fit the bill.”

Robin gestured to Fangs who sat with tears in his eyes, his legs shaking under the table as he picked a scab on his hand. He sucked in his cheeks, trying to hold back his emotions, but it was useless and his face was flushing an overwhelmed shade of pink as he quickly brushed a tear away.

“When you pass judgment on Mr Fogarty at the end of this trial, you must use three tools. Firstly, you must use the testimony and law presented to you in this court, not from Ms White, nor I, but from Judge Vines and from the witnesses. It is our job to help the witnesses to tell their stories, but not to tell those stories for the witnesses. Secondly, you must use your common sense. You will hear a lot of testimony over the course of this trial, from professionals and people of power in Riverdale all the way to high school students- it is your job as jurors to discern what is true and what doesn’t add up to you. And finally, you must use your courage. Being a juror is not easy; and Mr Fogarty’s life is on the line. It is just as courageous to acquit someone as it is to convict someone, and if you aren’t convinced beyond a shred of reasonable doubt that Fangs Fogarty did this, then you cannot convict him.” Robin urged the jurors, using her hands wildly as she stopped to look each one of them in the eye, a pained look settling on her face.

“Fangs Fogarty categorically did not kill Midge Klump, and by the end of this trial you will understand fully why that is the case, and how my client is innocent. Thank you.”

Robin nodded to the jury with a curt smile, before taking her seat and letting out a deep breath. She grabbed Fangs’ hand briefly and squeezed it, handing him a tissue before she flicked through her notes to take her mind off of her racing emotions.

“Okay ladies and gentlemen, that’s it for today,” Judge Vines announced, motioning to Robin and Margaret, and then towards the jurors. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow at 9:00am, see you then.”

A quiet murmur overtook the court as the public began to get up and disperse from the room, mumbling between themselves about the opening statements and what they thought the outcome of the trial would be. The Serpents shifted uncomfortably, the juniors splitting off from the King, still in shock at today’s revelations. If this had come out by accident on the first day of the trial, none of them were looking forward to the secrets that could erupt during the subsequent week.

Moose and Lydia walked slightly ahead of Mr and Mrs Klump, both pairs arm in arm and leaning on each other emotionally like they were each other’s life support machines. The Klump’s looked skeletal, dark circles adorned their eyes and their faces were gaunt, like they hadn’t done anything apart from exist since Midge had died. No parent should ever have to bury their own child, and it looked like they’d buried a part of themselves with Midge the day of her funeral.

Lydia and Moose didn’t look much better. Midge was Lydia’s best friend, her saving grace, the reason she got through each day at Riverdale High sane. Everywhere she looked, there was something that reminded her of Midge. Whether it was looking around her room and seeing the trinkets her best friend would pick up for her at shops and tell her ‘I saw this and thought of you’, or in the halls as she walked past her locker, or even in herself. Midge brought something out in Lydia that was locked deep down; a quiet confidence in herself that had been shattered and replaced with an insecurity that the town would know her as the girl whose best friend was dead.

And Moose. The gentle giant football star had been replaced with an aggressive form of himself, that took his agony out on anything within his reach. He’d put holes in his walls, fought his teammates at football and started arguing with his parents, locking himself away in solitary confinement to be consumed by his own thoughts. Behind his eyes, there was nothing. Maybe he wasn’t so far removed from Fangs, despite how much he tried to separate himself from the killer teen.

Moose and Lydia were each other’s anchors, trying to stop each other from being dragged away with the tide where they would be found washed up on a beach somewhere later.

Robin turned towards Fangs, supressing a grimace at the look of pure doom he gave her. She knew this conversation wouldn’t be one he would like, but it was necessary. She took a few steps towards him, lowering her voice so that only he would hear as the last few people filtered out of the court room.

“I know you’re not happy but-“

“Not happy?” Fangs hissed through gritted teeth. “That’s an understatement. Do you want me to lose this case? Because from where I was sitting it sure looked like it when you kicked that ex-Serpent off the jury.”

Robin let out a deep sigh, her face settling into its resting position- a notoriously bitchy and unamused look, which only wound Fangs up further. He was already a tightly coiled snake ready to bite, and that look on Robin’s face had him bearing his fangs ready to strike.

“You convinced me to stick with you, you convinced me not to take that damn plea deal all so that you could show off in court, and you can’t even do that. You’re fucking this up for me. You don’t get to play with my life.”

“You know what,” Robin started, straightening her posture to look at Fangs eye to eye, her heels giving her the extra inches to meet his eyeline. She was tired and agitated, and Fangs had picked the wrong moment to air his grievances with her. “You’re in my domain now, and you seem to have no idea that you’re neck deep in the shit and that I’m the one who can get you out of it. You may be my client, but I have duties to this court and to myself which take precedence. I have duty to the Bar to promote and protect fearlessly, by all proper and lawful means, your best interests- note the words proper and lawful. My overriding duty is to the court and to administering justice, so, as much as I would like to have kept that Serpent on the jury, I can’t. Heck, I would put all your friends on the jury if I could to ensure that you’re found not guilty, but I can’t. I’m not going to get myself disbarred for you, so you need to start believing that I can do this regardless of the jury composition.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of them and they remained eye to eye until Robin took a step back toward their table and gathered her books together. She wasn’t sure whether she was trying to convince herself or Fangs to believe in her.

“Go home and get a good night’s sleep. The real stuff starts tomorrow, Fangs,” Robin spoke levelly to the boy still standing behind her, having contained her outburst. She scooped up all her books and turned back to face him, shuffling them in her arms as one began to slip. “You’re not the first client to doubt me, and you won’t be the last, but I am trying my hardest, and I will continue to try my hardest for you and your family. I know what’s at stake, I know that better than most, but some things are out of my control.”

Fangs stood stern, looking at the woman before him. His eyes flickered to her snake pin on the lapel of her blazer and quickly back up to her face, swallowing hard and unclenching his fists slightly as he shifted his weight between his feet. He sent her a small nod, chewing the inside of his cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

“Oh, and Fangs?” Robin called over to him as he left ahead of her. “Get ready for tomorrow- things are going to get more intense than you could have ever imagined. It’s dog eat dog in that court, and tomorrow I’m going to be out for blood.”

#aaaand we're back #fangs fogarty #fangs fogarty fic #riverdale #riverdale fic #Midge Klump #fangs fogarty x midge klump #drew ray tanner #fangs fogarty imagine #fangs fogarty x oc #robin allard #ITPOJ #riverdale OC #in the pursuit of justice #crime fic

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the-end-of-art · 6 years

Text

Christianity has no magic

My husband lost his job. My sister-in-law was murdered. Here’s what it did to my faith. by Elizabeth Bruenig at the Washington Post

A week before my daughter was born, my husband lost his job. It was unexpected. I came home from work just a little early one day because I thought I had felt a contraction — I didn’t know what it would feel like, having never given birth, and so I thought every pain could be a sign of labor.

When I came inside, I saw my husband’s shoes by the door. It wasn’t time for him to be in yet. I looked up and there he was, sitting in the rocking chair we had bought for me to use when nursing our baby. And he was slouched with his head in his hands, so then I knew.

I don’t remember much else about what happened then, other than that at some point I pulled so hard on the medal I was wearing — a miraculous medal, imprinted with an image of the Virgin Mary — that the clasp broke.

When I gave birth a few days later, the pain was unmistakable.

My husband and I came home from the hospital and looked for jobs for him. Sometimes when a job seemed especially promising I would go to church and light a candle and pray, although I still hadn’t fixed the clasp on my medal and didn’t wear it. It laid on the surface of my dresser and was buried in short order under towels and rags and baby clothes.

***

I had felt, maybe because of all my prayers, that things would soon look up. It made sense that things would get better quickly.

In late June, while my husband was out shopping for a suit for interviews, he received a phone call from his father in Texas. My husband’s sister, he said, had been murdered. She was 29 years old.

When my husband came home, I was in bed with the baby. Both she and I were glazed with sweat. Our bed is near a window; outside there are only the staggered roofs of other buildings, plain and tan, some of them sometimes crested by birds. I had fallen asleep watching crows rising up in the shimmering heat.

When he woke me up all I could hear through my daze was that she had passed away.

It was only later that he used the word murdered. A man had attacked Heather in the trailer she shared with two other women — a mother and her adult daughter who had previously lived out of their car. Heather was engaged and looking forward to her impending marriage. She had sporadically studied accounting after high school but spent most of her time working as a waitress at Cracker Barrel and Red Lobster. She had always been poor; she had never known anything other than being poor.

Red Lobster helped pay for her funeral. Dimly I thought of God’s love for the poor. Where could it have gone? Where was God now?

My husband flew to Texas, and I slept with our daughter, only a few weeks old. She woke up often then, hungry, and I would nurse her. In between I drifted in and out of a fitful twilight sleep, still aching from birth and worry. I wanted to see my husband, but I had run out of encouraging things to say. We were both exhausted. I would try to pray, only for my mind to wander into broken thoughts. I had a strange dream.

In my dream, I wandered down the aisle of some kind of noisy, crowded theater. At the front, where a stage should have been, were confessionals. I went inside one to repent and there was no priest there, only a screen with the face of a priest. I said to him: “Father, I’ve lost my faith.”

***

I should tell you the story of my medal.

In 2014, my grandmother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She underwent surgery, and my mother visited her in the hospital often. It was a long recovery.

One evening my mother came home from the hospital and showed me something.

“I spotted this in the parking lot,” she said. There was a dull, nickel-colored oval in her hand. On one side I could make out the image of the Blessed Virgin, but the other side was coated with chewed gum and dirt.

I am a convert. My mother, a Methodist, wasn’t sure what this pendant could be. Neither was I.

I cleaned it up with dish soap and tweezers. It had been scraped on the asphalt, but I could read the words: O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.

The next time I was out, I took the medal with me in a plastic bag. I brought it to a jewelry shop and had it put on a simple black cord with a lobster clasp, and from then on I wore it very often, thinking as much of whoever had lost it in the hospital parking lot as of my mother who picked it up out of the filth for me as of the Blessed Virgin herself.

***

The police were able to tell us that they had caught Heather’s killer driving her car, which he had stolen. She had been stabbed in the neck. There was very little more they were willing to say.

A couple of job opportunities seemed very likely. I would pray and ask all my friends to pray. I trust that they did.

But nothing came through.

***

For a while during the long, hot summer I entertained the superstitious idea that things would not look up for my family until I had the clasp of my medal repaired. I did not think I was being punished for breaking it, but I thought I had damaged some trust by doing that, and that I couldn’t fix it until I did some penance by way of cost and trouble.

But things got in the way. There is so much to carry when you go out with a baby. I would always think of taking it with me when I thought we might pass by a jewelry shop, but some other thing — a bottle, a rattle, a just-in-case bundle of socks — would always occupy my hands instead.

Summer stretched on. Our baby grew; she did not wake up so much in the night anymore, and she could smile and laugh. I prayed for the soul of my sister-in-law, and for my husband’s family and my husband, who occupied himself with our baby so as not to dwell too much on everything that was lost. I didn’t rush to light candles for possible jobs anymore. It didn’t seem to be any use, and I thought I had made my hope on that front clear enough. God would listen or He wouldn’t.

I had days of greater and lesser certainty. Mostly I thought God was listening. That was the fact that made me feel so restless: Why are You listening so quietly? I know You’re there. A whisper of doubt sometimes passed through my thoughts: You’re only thinking like this because it’s likely another job will come along. If it were something less likely, you wouldn’t feel so sure.

***

In August I visited my gynecologist’s office for a postpartum checkup. Everything looked to be in order. She asked me if I had felt sad since the baby had been born, or hopeless or lost. She asked if I had spent many hours crying.

I lied to her. But on the way home, in the still midday street with sun flooding upward from the pavement, I impulsively stopped my taxi short of my apartment building.

I departed from the road into the cavernous darkness of a church.

It wasn’t time for confession, but there was a priest in the sacristy who I asked, when he emerged, if he would hear my confession. He led me by the shoulder to the confessional where I knelt down and rested my forehead on my folded knuckles.

I don’t have any more faith, I told him.

But you’re here, he said. He was patient. It took a long time for me to say anything. Slowly I recounted everything that had happened over the past few months, though I didn’t tell him about my medal — somehow even then I was still too cowardly to tell him about my medal.

He listened. He said, at last, that while faith can be a comfort, it can also torture you. It can tear at you in times like these, he said, with his hand fixed like a claw. Because you know everything could be made better. But it isn’t.

The line between religion and magic, I learned in school, isn’t clear. But many scholars of religion agree that one important division is that while magic is private and crisis-oriented, religion is public and its rituals have no specific, short-term, earthly goals.

Christianity has no magic, and that may be just as well.

***

Eventually a job came along. The way that it happened was very prosaic, the way most jobs are. Nothing about it felt miraculous. I couldn’t discern any sign in it, but I know there must be one. It isn’t always important, I now think, to feel moved. Sometimes faith is an act of will. Maybe it mostly is.

What can I say: That my faith wasn’t injured? It was wounded.

But wounded things heal.

By the fall our baby had grown so much she could no longer fit into her first baby clothes. I decided to put all of them away for the next baby, and so went through our apartment gathering up every sock and onesie marked for a baby up to three months. In doing so I uncovered my medal, still looped on its broken cord.

I was never going to have it fixed, I realized. It wasn’t realistic. Having the clasp of a cord repaired was no longer possible in the scheme of the life I had now.

Nor did I have to. I slipped it from the cord and onto an unbroken silver chain I’d bought someplace a long time ago. It looked different, but wore just the same.

(https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2016/12/24/my-husband-lost-his-job-his-sister-was-murdered-heres-what-it-did-to-my-faith/?noredirect=on&utm_term=.706accc06f9b)

#Elizabeth Bruenig #faith #grief #loss #death #recovery #healing

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religionsinyourlips-archive · 5 years

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I wanted to let you know that it’s nice to see you be open about how you identify & be a Christian. I personally haven’t seen a lot of people identify somewhere in the lgbtq+ community while making it known that they do value their faith. It’s just nice to see because although I’m not apart of the lgbtq+ community, I do support & love them. It’s hard when I tell people that I’m Christian because they automatically think I’m this evil person who wants to change them

I really appreciate this. it’s honestly not something I’ve wanted to talk about a lot on here because I feel weird about it, but I’m an open book and will be honest about things people want to know about me. because... I mean... you should, I guess?

BUT. to be honest (this is the aforementioned honesty), I wasn’t like this between like, 2010 and 2017. and I’ll explain that under this keep reading break because I don’t wanna bombard people’s dashes with a story they didn’t ask for.

okay so.

before high school, I was perfectly content in church. like, I was born and raised in church and had no problems from birth up until the age of 13. before then, I loved the people I went to church with (I went to the same church for 12 years) and really enjoyed everything I got to do at church. I never complained and was totally chill for the longest time. but THEN I started realizing, per my best friend from church and I having a random ass discussion when I was fucking 12 years old, that the feelings I’d been having (the gay feelings) weren’t seen as normal at church. because of that, it took my friend in middle school in Kansas City telling me she was bisexual and me researching it because I had no idea what it was to realize that I was not the normal little Christian bitch I thought I was.

so when I’d started high school and was finally accepting of the fact that I was gay after years of being like “whatmst the fuck am I? whomst the fuck am I?” due to being in constant denial about the gay, I slowly became this super broody ass little bitch. I was pissed at how oblivious I was to the homophobia and sheer ignorance I grew up surrounded by. because of that, I got really rebellious and was like “fuck the church, fuck religion, I’m over it”. I got to the point every time I went to church (which was twice a week), I would dip out of youth group on Wednesday nights until I stopped going (I gave up after a series the youth pastor did on the different things God hates and the amount of homophobia I witnessed in an hour and a half period one night...). I ended up teaching kids on Wednesday nights because of it, but that’s a different weird story I can tell not here. BUT ANYWAYS. that whole anger thing went on for a long ass time (see: the seven year timespan previously mentioned).

last year, for some fucking reason, it kinda clicked in my brain that it’s like... I’m not sitting here choosing to like girls. I don’t sit here and decide my body’s physiological response to seeing a lady, nor do I sit here and decide to have no physiological response to seeing a dude. I shouldn’t have to choose between something I can’t change (the gay) and something I once really enjoyed. this is basically what I ended up feeling like after sitting down and really thinking about it all.

but I really do appreciate the support because none of the Christians in my life are like that and it’s just... well, you know.

#story time with nicole #I have so many gay related church stories #or church related gay stories #I guess both #beautifulnight #someone asked a thing

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darkwingggggdyke · 6 years

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Yo, so I set up this tumblr to just sorta let myself live a little so I’m gonna just make my first official post some meaningful rant bullshit to just....vent. Fucking somewhere. Ya know? And then it’ll just be stupid memes or whatever. I don’t know, I’ve never been good at sticking with any particular sort of content on here haha.

So I’m here to sort of allow myself to explore my sexual identity. And how I got to this point in my life is one hell of a story, honestly, and it’s one that seems like it would have been more commonplace a good ten years ago or so- but I’m from the Bible Belt so I guess being in a weird time loop is just. Normal.

A good chunk of my life, I assumed I was asexual. And I still think, to some degree, I still fall somewhere on that spectrum. But while I had boy crazy phases, once I actually interacted with boys it sort of died. I always preferred “going after” people I didn’t think would ever like me back. Be it polar opposites or teachers, the more unattainable the better. It was safe that way, because I’d never have to actually do anything.

And honestly I cannot think of a single instance in my high-school career where that wasn’t the case. Meanwhile, I kept weirdly intense female friendships. One of which I may bring up again at some point if anyone gives a shit about life story stuff. And while a generally masculine girl, I never really questioned my sexuality. Or I guess to be more accurate, I never allowed myself. I was homeschooled by a manipulative and mentally ill woman obsessed with religion and the only time I could leave my house was church. And if you’ve ever been to a southern baptist church, you can see why it wasn’t something I let myself think on.

Growing up, I also had my uncle who helped take care of me when shit got too nuts with my mom. Which, trust me, was more often the not. The thing about him though was that not only was he gay, but he was completely disowned by his parents and they spent about 12 years not speaking to him. And it killed him. Killed him to a point that he let “Jesus heal him “ and he’s been broken and alone ever since.

As I got older, I didn’t care too much about romantic stuff. I acted like it, because boy howdy does my ass love the flair of a good romantic drama, but not to a point I thought it was something that would ever actually happen for me. I just knew it wasn’t something I could do. No matter who I loved I didn’t think I’d be good enough. Some of that was warping from the people raising me, some of that was mental illness. All of it pushed people away if they actually got close.

At 18, I met a girl. From the first second I saw her sitting in the floor of the upstairs dorm, I could sense there was something almost cosmic about her. She had the body of a Greek goddess and a wit and soul that seemed far older than anyone in the written pantheon. She’s important to the story as a whole, but that first year in Christian college we became best friends and now a part of my soul resides in hers and I don’t know if she realizes that it’s hers forever. Again. She’ll come up not just later in this story, but I can bet your sweet asses I will post about her from time to time.

At 21 I had my first kiss, and while there were plenty of things that I can say made him an unlikeable douchewad, the thing I hated the most about that guy was that he wanted to have sex and the thought genuinely repulsed me. Which seemed normal to my mentally ill and borderline asexual ass, to not want that. But all of my experiences with him did very much point out that it isn’t. At least not how I experienced it, I guess. I didn’t put out and he ran for the hills and I’d never been happier to be over something- but I spent a good chunk of time in this pit of self hatred because I couldn’t comprehend why I didn’t want to have sex with him.

From that point, I lowkey gave up. Because if I can’t have sex with a person, I assumed I had no romantic value. I decided I’d let myself try to figure out my gender identity. Because as someone who’s intersex, 21 is about when it started becoming a major problem for me, my naughty bits trying to kill me and all. But I’d always had a complicated relationship with femininity- maybe that was why. I talked to the people who were close to me, reached out. Explored. So on.

I also realized that my feelings towards the aforementioned darling girl weren’t super platonic, got the balls to ask her out (she said yes), but I assumed because I was still so weird about the sex topic that she wouldn’t want to be with me like *that* so I changed my mind a few days later.

For some reason she didn’t hate me.

I would have.

But I guess the point of this whole rant is that THATS the mindset that’s fucking stupid.

So time rolls on, and aforementioned girl also comes to where I live to visit me, as gals who are pals are want to do, and has a surprise gay intervention awaiting her at home. I tell her not to fly home. She doesn’t. With nothing to her name, she stayed with me and chose her own happiness over people like that.

I admire her so much for that.

I wish I had gotten to that point myself so much sooner.

More time passes. Friends come and go, hookups come and go sparser. She finds a guy that asks her out and I slowly lose my mind all while refusing to asknowledge why. I finally have sex with some dude I found online that seemed like he’d handle it pretty clinically. And I wanted to see what was so great about the ordeal. Turns out nothing. It was miserable. And not just because I ended up injured and you’d think since he was a nurse he wouldn’t panic about injuring someone with a shallow ass puss but he ran out of the house in panic and I was left somehow so much more goddamn shallow than i started.

The guy my best friend is with starts to treat me like shit. I try not to say anything so I don’t look jealous and instead come up with nonsense reasons to hate him. But then he starts treating her worse. Leaving without any notice. Stalking the house for no reason.

And she just... rolls with it. And I can’t help but find myself overcome with the knowledge that I would be better for her. I would love her, for starters. I would worship her. I would make sure she remembered that she is so smart and brave and the kindest person I know. She has so much heart that I don’t, and she’s so sure of herself- even when she’s not.

And that’s when it hits me that my feelings are still not platonic.

She dumps him because she loves me, and finally telling her he was a jackass to me is what makes all the difference.

But even still, I keep my realization locked air tight. I can’t tell her. If I end up not able to have sex with her, I wouldn’t just be robbing her of a relationship people would approve of. Sure I’ve thought about her ass a lot. But everyone does. (If anyone gets a time machine and gets to talk to me, please tell me how stupid I am)

And then she goes to see her family for Christmas and it all comes crashing out of me. And I tell her. I tell her that I am madly, suffocatingly, life alteringly, unshakably in love with her.

And she loves me too.

And even now I still kinda feel like I’m being punked. But then I remember that I love her so much that it’s almost easy to forget what hating myself feels like.

And then time rolls by and I let myself think the things I never let myself before. And I realize I might not be robbing her of sex after all because goddamn is she sexy. Her eyes are like forget me nots, her mind never ceases to amaze me. She permanently smells like lavender and spices that speak of magic. Her thighs as soft as the laughter that bubbles from her lips like honey.

So yeah. That’s why I’m here now. To just revel in being gay. To sorta document the process of figuring this shit out. To talk about my hot as fuck future wife. And Gina Rodriguez. Because the more I let myself, the more I think I might have been a little wrong in how I’d viewed myself previously. Because I was still trying to find a lens I could be viewed in that would still let me have the family that honestly doesn’t even matter anymore.

#coming out post i guess?#coming out #queer #lesbian #bisexual #pansexual #wlw #intersex #lgbtq #gay #gay rant #older gay #personal

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vikingcarrot · 6 years

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jinzel, can you tell me more about him?

Ooh, I never get OC questions, yay.

He’s a Drakkari death knight, around 12 feet tall and built like a brick shithouse, though probably a bit more brawny dad-bod than the super-sculpted muscles I've previously drawn him with (because I have since decided that would be better suited to his age and the freezing climate he's from). About 68 when he died, he was the warlord of his local clan/tribe in Zul’drak until the Scourge came along and killed him. His open glowy chest wound is where his heart was carved out when he was killed, you know, so he could watch himself die. He was then raised as a DK for his rank while alive, and therefore his knowledge of Drakkari territory and war tactics etc, to kill his entire clan including his entire family (he had a wife and 3 teenage children) and raise them to start spreading blight across Zul'drak (which then later the troll Drakuru in the Zul’drak questlines totally sold out the remaining Drakkari to the Scourge like the piece of shit he was, heh). Once he was no longer useful for what he was raised for, he got sent to the Western Plaguelands to be cannon fodder with all the other 3rd-generation DKs and therefore freed by Tirion Fordring as per the questline. Couldn’t go back home to Zul'drak since there's nothing really left, and few Drakkari left as well. Now he just goes where there’s war and he can kill people to hold off the death knight insanity that occurs if they don't engage in enough bloodshed.

A very grumpy, surly, broodsome, washed-up old sellsword. Drinks way too much in an effort to get drunk and numb but undeath continues to prevent him being able to get that hammered. Doesn’t talk much, understands common and orcish a lot better than he speaks them. Works for the Argent Crusade sometimes, and sometimes the Horde. He’s not really loyal to anyone, but the Horde will tolerate him because they already have trolls, so he just sort of... defaults to them when necessary. Briefly he left the Horde to return to his brethren since what was left of the Drakkari threw their lot in with Zul's takeover campaign, due to I guess, twinges of guilt and probably loneliness as well, but despite all the undead/diseased Drakkari you see in Throne of Thunder he was probably not, uh... well-received. Would probably have been viewed with as much fear as hate, and once things went to shit there, like he totally knew it would, he just went back to the travelling mercenery thing.

He's not at all happy about being sent to Zandalar. He thinks the Zandalari are dicks for watching the Drakkari empire go to shit and end up eating their own gods, but never ever stepping in to help, just hiding in their protected little questhub and documenting it (I, too, am pretty salty about this). Like on the one hand he's shitty the Zandalari didn't stop him helping to wreck the Drakkari and drive them to eat their own gods, but on the other hand he's probably kind of proud of himself that they didn't and probably couldn't stop him. Go figure.

Uhh what else. He's got zero connection to the loa or any of the religion he had while alive, because in undeath he's completely beyond it and trolls in lore are supposed to be quite horrified and upset by undeath in a much deeper spiritual way than other races. He'd probably like to fight Bwonsamdi. He wouldn't win. He likes to imagine he would, though, or that at least he'd give the guy a run for his money.

He is a very tired, grumpy old lion past his prime but drifting unable to change or progress for better or worse in undeath, and I love him and really wish I could RP him since this expansion is perfect for him.

#askbox replies #OC: Jinzel #sorry for the text wall guys #I just love him a lot #and I hardly ever get asks like this #look at me go #jacobdcheshyre

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spikeisawesome456 · 6 years

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So... I decided to do all of these asks, because I was bored. :-D

Obscure Asks.

1. what’s your favorite way to dress? Uhh… Comfortably. I tend to just wear yoga pants, graphic t-shirts, and a Dipper hat.

2. if you could change anything about yourself, what would it be? Ohhh… I both want to say lots of things, and nothing. Because on one hand, there are things about me that annoy me (I overshare, I sometimes get insanely hyper, like now, I can be really mean/rude, etc.…), but on the other hand, I do enjoy who I am. For all my faults, I am proud of the person I’ve become, and the person I’m still becoming. Maybe I’d make my memory better, so I could really utilize my intelligence, and stop forgetting people’s names because it’s starting to get really rude.

3. what movie/game/etc. helps you calm down? Eh… I like to play Stardew Valley, but it doesn’t help me calm down. I play it when I’m calm. It actually used to stress me out… probably not a good example. Uh… Nothing, I guess. Music helps. Sometimes. Basically, when I’m stressed, the only thing that can help is solving the problem or ignoring the problem. And if I can’t ignore it, I just… get stressed. Hugging my mom sometimes helps.

4. what does your room smell like? Like… a room? It smells okay? It recently smells like Maple Cinnamon Pancakes, because I got a Maple Cinnamon Pancake candle from Bath and Body Works, so… yeah?

5. do you like to organize? Ehh… Like to, yes. Do I do it? Noooo….

6. what kind of music would you listen to if you could only choose one? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Why Would You Ask Me This???????????? Also I’m assuming this means genre. But… Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

7. what song is your aesthetic? Um… I don’t really know my Aesthetic? I’m a bit all over the place. Girly, tom boy, shiny, glittery, matte…. Fast, slow, everything in between and outside. If you know of a song like that, then that’s me! Otherwise… Eh.

8. what color do you think goes best with your personality? Uh… No idea. I like blue, though. I’m not that calm a person, though. Well, sometimes, but not always. Well, it depends on what you mean by calm. So… Probably purple, a mix between loud red/orange and cool blue.

9. do you believe in auras? Not… really? A little? Like, we each have our own personal feel, and energy. Like, in a psychological way. But in the color way? Not really. Can people feel other’s energy better than others? Sure! But that’s just a hyper awareness of self and other, not a “six sense,” or whatever.

10. what do you wish you hated, but actually like? I don’t wish to hate anything.

11. vague about your crush(es) I… don’t have any. I decided a long time ago that crushes were stupid, after I ruined a good friendship with my weird crush. Plus, I don’t spend enough time around people to develop crushes.

12. is there someone you have mixed feelings towards? Not… really? Some of my old professors, maybe. My Abnormal Psychology professor was nice, sometimes, but could say such mean things at times about people with mental illness.

13. talk about an au or story you came up with Oh! I made up a story about a man who has two sons (though I changed it so one child, the elder, was a daughter in the last edit, so…) who sold his soul to keep them safe and happy, after he lost all his money when his business partner skipped town and left his embezzlement charges with the man. The man didn’t get sent to jail, since the small town had pity on him, but he did lose all his money, meaning his eldest, now a daughter, had to steal. Hating that, he made a deal with the devil. 2 years later, the devil (who isn’t evil, but more like the Jewish idea of the devil, who is a temptation) comes knocking and the man learns that instead of taking his soul, since the devil would get it at his death regardless (in order to make a deal with the devil you had to commit the greatest sin, murder, thus tainting your soul), the devil took the thing you loved most. For selfish men, it would be their fame and money. For lustful men, it would be their object of affection. For the man, who had made the deal for selfless reasons, it was his children, whom he loved more than anything.

The plot would have gone into the man trying to escape the devil, who graciously gave him a week to prepare, but I didn’t know how to write it, and it’s kind of been in my notes on my iPod for years. It would have ended with the devil catching up to the family, with the man finally begging the devil to let his children live, that it wasn’t their fault. And the devil would have smiled, sweetly, before killing the children while the man watched. As the devil turned away, the man would have brokenly asked why? Why he couldn’t have left them alone? And the devil would have chuckled sadly and said that it was what had always been planned. That the entire chase had been futile from the very first moment. The devil had sympathy for the man, but he couldn’t go against the orders of God (my version of the devil is kinder, more sympathetic to the plights of humans, since I view the “devil” not as an enemy, but as, I previously mentioned, a temptation. He tempts people, on God’s orders, but doesn’t have any true animosity towards humanity. He just follows orders). Finally, the man begs the devil to kill him, to end his suffering, that even an eternity in Hell would be better than living knowing he killed his children. And then, I’m split on the ending. In the dream that inspired this story, the devil smiles wickedly and says, “I thought you’d never ask,” before bashing the man (me, in the dream) over the head with a bat, since in the dream the devil was eviler. But I think it’s more poignant to let the devil laugh softly again, turn, and say “Oh, my dear man. That’s the whole point,” before walking away/disappearing.

Anyway, that was my main story idea. I really like it, and wrote about 20,000 words for it, but got stuck on the middle part. I wanted to add an old friend of the man’s, who became an alcoholic following the death of one of their old friends. The friend group fell apart after the man left for plot reasons, which I don’t have time to explain, and it grew worse until one of their friends died, and the whole friend group fell apart and she became an alcoholic. However, I wasn’t sure if this subplot took away from the whole plot, and I felt it was written poorly, so I kind of gave up. Plus, I had no idea what obstacles the devil could put in their way, since I don’t know religion. Though… I am currently taking a bible course in college, so maybe I’ll revisit the story. If anyone wants to read what I have, send me a message. :-)

14. do you like makeup? Eh… Depends. I sometimes like it. Also, after writing about my whole story, going back to these questions just feel weird. Eh.

15. do you prefer space or the ocean? I like the ocean, since I can see it more often. Though, I love looking at the stars when I can. I just live in a city with tons of light pollution and can’t ever see the stars.

16. if you could pick any planet besides earth, where would you live? ????? What other planets could I live on??? I don’t know any real planets that have life on them, and none of the 7 others we have interest me much. Or is this fictional? In which case… I don’t know?

17. what form of government do you like the most? (capitalism, socialism, etc.) Um… this took a dark turn. “Hey, what’s your favorite color??” “Do you like makeup??? :-D” “What is your political preference, you capitalist/commie scum???” This question just feels like a trap the cops laid in the middle of a silly, fun little quiz.

18. what animal would you keep as a pet, if you could? I’d keep a cat, but I’m allergic. And a little afraid. Also, I think this means like, wild animal, or mythical creature, but I wouldn’t want to keep a wild animal captive, even if I could. Same with mythical creature.

19. what do you think our purpose is in the universe? To do our best and to enjoy the life we’ve been given. This relates to the next question, but I believe that if there is a God, they’d want us to enjoy life.

20. do you believe in god(s)? Continuing from the last question, yes and no. I believe in a higher power, since I don’t see how the entire universe and life can just be random, but I don’t really believe in “God” or “gods” as humans have imagined them, as helpful or destructive forces that meddle with humanity. I believe they would be a high creature, humans unable to sense them since we don’t have the body parts available to “see” them. There would likely be multiple higher beings, but it is possible one is in charge of earth, to look over us. Though, no miracle granting or listening in, since they probably aren’t on the same timeline we are, or an entire generation to us is a second to them. The afterlife is tricky, which is why I’m so terrified to die, so I won’t go into it. But, long story short, yes. I do believe in a sort of “God.” What they mean to earth, what they want with us, I don’t know. But I do believe something created the universe, and watches over the various planets. Also, I believe that other planets have life, and that aliens may or may not have visited earth, but if they did, we might not have known, since, like with “God,” we don’t have the appendages or body parts available to “see” them. I mean, if we didn’t have eyes or ears, we’d never know what we were missing. Who knows what we can’t “see” because we don’t have the right parts?

21. is there a song you can’t handle listening to, even though you like it? Ehh…. Nothing, really. But, there was a P!nk song I had to turn off halfway through. Not because I hated it, but because it reminded me of my family too much it hurt. I didn’t really like the song, but it was okay. I think it was called Family Portrait? Update, I looked it up, and yes, it is called Family Portrait, by P!nk. It’s not completely similar to my family, but it’s close enough that it just… hurt.

22. what ex do you miss the most, if you have one? If you never date, you can never have an ex you miss the most. *Insert guy tapping his forehead meme here*

23. do you like soft, fluffy blankets or rough/smooth blankets? Soft ones. Who… who likes rough blankets??? What??? I mean, I prefer smoother ones, I guess, to super fluffy. But rough? Really??

24. what is your favorite thing to learn about? Psychology!!! I love it!

25. what country’s history do you find the most interesting? Um… I don’t really like history. I’m taking a history class, though, and I liked Islam’s history. No one country, but the history of the Middle East and Islam.

26. what do you think about genderbent ____ (insert someone here) I think this is one where you had to send in a question for. So, feel free to ask me about any genderbend you like, but warning: I tend not to like genderbent characters. I just think it’s weird, and pointless. Especially if you genderbend a character to make a gay ship straight. Like… dude. Or, vice versa, to make a straight ship gay. It’s just… unnecessary. Make new characters or find a different ship.

27. what breakup was the hardest, if you had one? *insert answer from question 22, but exchange “Ex you miss the most” for “hardest breakup”

28. do you have someone where you can’t decide if you like them romantically or just as a friend? Not really. Going back to question 11, I don’t spend enough time around people to really know. But, as I have weird understandings of friendship and love, as well as a deep loneliness that makes me emotionally invested in anyone who is even slightly a friend, this sort of happens all the time. I just want to be less lonely, usually. I’m just… bad at people. I tend not to like them, and they bore me, yet I long to be around people and have friends. So. Lots of contradictions.

29. what do you think about Tumblr discourse? Eh. I think most of it is stupid. Just… chill. The world sucks, it’s best just to do things you enjoy, don’t sweat the small stuff. Even the big stuff. If there’s nothing you can do, just… move on. Live with it, and live your life. Don’t yell at random people, even If they’re “terrible.” Nothing is black and white, and as soon as you start attacking others because of your opinion, you’re becoming a person in the wrong, even if your view is virtuous. No one is right. No one is wrong. It’s just a matter of opinion. Now, does that mean you shouldn’t argue your point? No! Your view is valid and if it matters to you, express it. But don’t hate on another because of it. Or else you lose your virtue, your moral “righteousness.” Sorry, this went in a wrong direction. But… yeah.

30. what instrument do you wish you could master? Piano, guitar, and violin. Piano the most, though.

31. how easy is it for you to be honest? Pretty easy? I tend to be honest, most often, because I don’t really see why not. But it’s also easy to tell white lies or to omit truths, if it makes my life easier. So. Eh.

32. do you have any strange interests? Nothing I can really think of? Nothing that other people aren’t interested in. I like collecting coins, but so do many others.

33. do you have any strange fears? Ehh… I’m a bit afraid of animals, but it’s mostly because I’m afraid of them hurting me, which isn’t really strange?? So… again, not really? Most of my fears are common. Maybe my fear of holes? Like, on the skin? But people have that fear, too. And it’s less a fear and more of a disgust.

34. what food do you binge on when you’re lazy? Anything I can, really. I tend not to get super hungry, so I only eat when I’m bored or “lazy”, or when I know people should eat. Also, I dislike calling it lazy, since I think that’s a negative word for a more complicated feeling. For me, at least.

35. when you get angry, how do you show it? I tend to go quiet and seethe. I don’t usually yell, though I will if the other person (my dad usually) is yelling. I prefer leaving the room, though, or else getting all “righteous”. Like, righteous fury, though I’m not always righteous when I get angry.

36. do you have any impulsive movements? (twitches, ticks, flapping, etc.) Dude, yes. I tend to crack my knuckles/twist my hands impulsively/nervously. I also tap/rub my thumb against my fingers, or move my foot. Mostly when I’m “hyper,” or possibly manic. Otherwise, when I’m more down, it’s just the cracking knuckles thing.

37. what do you listen to music on? iPod/Phone, and my computer. I tend not to listen to radio. Sometimes I’ll listen to new music on YouTube, but it’s mostly iTunes/the iPod/phone music app.

38. are you left brained or right brained? Well, we all have both right and left brains, so I am both. Since no one side of the brain can be really more dominant. Unless part of your brain is dead, like my mother’s, who is more right brained, since parts of her left brain died when she was born. But, since I understand what this question is asking, I am, really, both. I’m creative and logical. Shocker.

39. earbuds or headphones? Oh, headphones, every time. I HATE earbuds. They always fall out of my ears. I mean I’ll take them if I have nothing else, but I hate them.

40. do you like light blankets or heavy blankets? Eh…. I tend to have heavy blankets, even though it’s hot where I am, and I need a fan to keep me cool. So. Yeah.

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urdearestmom · 6 years

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100 Questions

Tagged by @bob-newby-superhero thanks!!

1. What is your nickname? Sari, Sarita, Sarinha

2. How old are you? 18

3. What is your birth month? December

4. What is your zodiac sign? Sagittarius

5. What is your favourite colour? Green!

6. What’s your lucky number? 17 because it’s my birthday lmao

7. Do you have any pets? No but I really want a cat. Everyone in my family has dogs

8. Where are you from? I’m Luso-Canadian (my family is from Portugal but we live in Canada)

9. How tall are you? My driver’s license says 160 cm but the doctor told me 163. Either way, around 5’3”

10. What shoe size are you? Uhh depends on the shoe but usually 6.5-7

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Many, but I always wear the same shit lol

12. Are you random? Sometimes, I guess

13. Last person you texted? I texted myself pictures from my mom’s phone. Last message in general was to @eljane-hoppers

14. Are you psychic in any way? Haha sometimes I think I am, but my mom is more >:^)

15. Last TV show watched? Saw an episode of Four Weddings on TLC this morning

16. Favourite movie? The Book Thief or The Greatest Showman

17. Favourite show from your childhood? iCarly!! Used to watch it religiously after school every day it was on

18. Do you want children? Yes, but definitely not right now lmao

19. Do you want a church wedding? Kind of yeah. It’ll depend on who I end up marrying but it’d probably be some kind of disgrace if I didn’t get married in a church

20. What is your religion? I am Catholic

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? Yup tons of times, whether for myself or other people

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? Nope, I am a Child of God™

23. How is life? Could be better, probably, but it’s pretty chill right now

24. Baths or showers? Showers, but I also really like baths

25. What colour socks are you wearing? Bold of you to assume I’m wearing socks at all

26. Have you ever been famous? I mean if you google my name the results are me. I was on CBC because I was in the national spelling bee in 2012

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? I feel like it’d be fun and cool for a while but then I’d get tired of it. I don’t like having people all up in my business and that seems like what life is like for big celebrities :/ But having a lot of influence would be awesome

28. What type of music do you like? Literally anything except country music (I’m not all that into rap/trap music either, but I can appreciate it from time to time) here’s a playlist of my favourite stuff it’s like seven hours long but if you go through it you’ll see it’s really all kinds :)

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? Maybe and I don’t remember? My childhood was a questionable era

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 2, both under my head

31. What position do you usually sleep in? I usually fall asleep on my side but I almost always wake up on my back so I don’t actually know how I’m sleeping

32. How big is your house? 2 stories and a basement

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? Cup of milk with something else, usually a bowl of cereal or bread/croissant with Nutella

34. Have you ever left the country? YeET I’ve been to Portugal a bunch of times, Spain once, and to France on a 5-hour layover but we didn’t leave the airport and I don’t remember it anyway ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

35. Have you ever tried archery? Does it count if it was on Wii Sports? And yeah once and I was terrible at it

36. Do you like anyone? I think so and it sucks because he’s my friend :(

37. Favourite swear word? Probably fuck, I say it a lot. But I also say shit a lot so I mean idrk

38. When do you fall asleep? Oof regularly past midnight, but the time varies

39. Do you have any scars? A giant burn mark on my leg and a very faint lil thing on my right hand from this time I accidentally did an entire flip in my driveway

40. Sexual orientation? Was previously sure I was straight but I’m kind of starting to question that?

41. Are you a good liar? I like to think that I’m a very convincing actress

42. What languages would you like to learn? Mm I already speak Portuguese (if you ever wanna learn something hmu), and I learned some French because that’s mandatory in Canada but I dropped it and I want to get back into it. So, French! I also learned some German this year and I might continue with it. Also maybe Spanish, I can already understand some

43. Top 10 songs? Umm

Love Is A Battlefield - Pat Benatar

Rock You Like A Hurricane - Scorpions

Theme From New York, New York - Frank Sinatra

True Faith - New Order

Age Of Consent - New Order

A Million Dreams - The Greatest Showman OST

Second Waltz - Dmitri Shostakovich

Power Of Love - Celine Dion

Johnny B. Goode - Chuck Berry

Halo - Beyonce

44. Do you like your country? Canada? Yeah, I love it except for the stupid ass weather. I get sick every fucking time the season changes

45. Do you have friends from the web? Yeeee!! They’re all awesome people

46. What is your personality type? INFP- there’s more info here if you want to know what that means

47. Hogwarts House? Ravenclaw ftw bitches

48. Can you curl your tongue? Yesssss

49. Pick one fictional character you can relate to? Buzzfeed told me that, based on my music taste, I am “a student of classic rock like School of Rock’s Dewey Finn” (but actually HA I KNEW THERE WAS A REASON I LOVED JACK BLACK IN THAT MOVIE)

50. Left or right handed? Righttttt

51. Are you scared of spiders? They don’t scare me as much as induce some kind of panic, but it really depends what kind of spider. Really little ones are actually kind of cute, but big spiders send me into cardiac arrest

52. Favourite food? Akjsnfskd PASTA

53. Favourite foreign food? Idk man I’m already picky af with my food. If I live in Canada does that make the Portuguese food I eat on a daily basis foreign because if so I loooooove me some fuckin barbecued chicken

54. Are you a clean or messy person? Fairly clean. If I wasn’t my mother would hurt me lol

55. If you could switch your gender for a day, what would you do? Idk probably figure out how to pee standing up, maybe make use of the ability to lie on my stomach without hurting my chest :)

56. What colour underwear? I think this is turquoise

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? Depends what I’m getting ready for. On a regular day, ten minutes tops. If I’m going out to an event it can be upwards of an hour; sometimes less, sometimes more

58. Do you have much of an ego? Idk if it’s ego so much as me being confident in myself. Anyone who has a problem with me and decides to be rude about it can suck my non-existent dick

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? I try to suck them but it never lasts for long, I almost always bite them unless I’m really concentrating on not biting

60. Do you talk to yourself? Lmfao only ALL THE TIME

61. Do you sing to yourself? Yeee

62. Are you a good singer? I don’t think I’ll blow out your eardrums but I know I’m not the best either. I’ll just say I’m not terrible

63. Biggest Fears? Heights and deep water

64. Are you a gossip? I live for drama does that make me a gossip

65. Are you a grammar nazi? Yeah if I’m talking to someone I’m very comfortable with (my cousin for example) or if I’m trying to be petty

66. Do you have long or short hair? Long! I’m growing it out so I can be really dramatic and chop it all off later (also thinking of donating it)

67. Can you name all 50 states of America? I can name almost all of them but I always forget a few. I think it’s pretty good considering I was never taught American geography

68. Favourite school subject? Instrumental music and history were my favourites

69. Extrovert or Introvert? Idk I guess extroverted introvert? Is that a thing???? I’m really awkward and panicky in social situations with people I don’t know but if I have friends around I’m just here to have the time of my life

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? No

71. What makes you nervous? Having to talk to people I don’t know (it literally makes me panic it’s horrible)

72. Are you scared of the dark? Sometimes, yeah

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? Lmao ok this depends on who the person is and if I’m in that kind of mood (but when I was a kid I used to correct my teachers)

74. Are you ticklish? Yes very

75. Have you ever started a rumour? No

76. Have you ever been out of your home country? Yes, I’ve been to Portugal a bunch of times, Spain once, and France on a layover

77. Have you ever drank underage? Chugged a cup of beer by accident when I was 6 oops

78. Have you ever done drugs? No but even if I had I don’t think I would say it here unless it was something minor like weed

79. What do you fantasize about? Travelling the world!!!!! And like, being a successful adult because right now I have no idea what the actual fuck I’m doing with my life

80. How many piercings do you have? Two, one in each ear

81. Can you roll your Rs? You gotta in Portuguese! I’m also fairly sure my French and German pronunciations are pretty much on point most of the time so I can do those types of R sounds as well

82. How fast can you type? Pretty fast on my phone and not slow on my laptop either (when you’re a writer you end up learning to type faster than you thought you would lol)

83. How fast can you run? Oof I’m not slow when I first start off but that only goes for like max 10 seconds

84. What colour is your hair? Dark brown

85. What colour are your eyes? Also dark brown

86. What are you allergic to? Bigots

87. Do you keep a journal? I have a diary I’ve had since I was like 10 but I don’t write in it very often. I also have a notebook where I write down fic ideas and outline plots

88. Are you depressed about anything? I actually think I might have seasonal depression or something but I’m not sure

89. Do you like your age? Yeah I guess being 18 is cool

90. What makes you angry? People who refuse to listen to reason

91. Do you like your own name? Yes it means princess!

92. Did you ever get a foreign object up your nose? No but I ate lead once

93. Do you want a boy or a girl for a child? No preference as long as it is alive and healthy

94. What talents do you have? Uhh I can play two instruments and will be learning a third does that count? I just remembered I can also balance a spoon on my nose

95. Sun or moon? Moon

96. How did you get your name? My mom had a friend named Sara when she was a kid and she always liked the name so here I am having been named Sara

97. Are you religious? Kind of? I don’t go to church very often but I think I believe in God (I believe that there’s something, at least). I’ve also received all the Sacraments that I can (as of right now that’s baptism, first communion, and confirmation)

98. Have you ever been to a therapist? Nope

99. Colour of your bedspread? Right now it’s just plain white

100. Colour of your room? Bright green!

Yeet I’m finished! Took forever ‘cause I kept getting interrupted but oh well

tagging: @eljane-hoppers @hannahberrie @mikeywheelerr @queer-deckovskij

#yeet #look at all this information about me #what an interesting person i am #SIKE

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bluegrasshole · 7 years

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do all the get to know your author questions bc they're all good and i can't pick

ko…. you need to work on your decisiveness (but thank you)

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

i mean.. not really. i had decided not to write any more fanfiction to focus on an original story i started but then… i wanted to get used to the setting, work through some personal stuff… kind of warm myself up while still writing the other one… so i’m writing a nurseydex lighthouse story like i said i would

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

my entire fanfiction.net account is bad. so so so bad. and surprisingly recent. also i HATE my early zimbits stuff, but of course one of them is like my second most popular piece so i can’t delete it. like really hate. and it’s frustrating because i have good stuff from that time period, so i don’t even fucking know what was going through my mind.

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

chronological but i tend to go back and add things obsessively. i like getting the skeleton down first just to get the basic plot and know where i’m going, then i go back to add in details – the meat of the skeleton if you will… and you know i like details

4) favorite character you’ve written

any dex is my favourite, but also specifically jack from samwell gentlemen’s hockey because he cracks me up, and i really loved writing parvati in that one parvender piece.

5) character you were most surprised to end up writing

camilla? in strange lovers i didn’t even know i was writing camilla until i realized like 3k in that my character who i’d named millie and was blonde was in fact… camilla. she snuck up on me

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now

oh… i do go back and fix things often (in strange lovers i went back to rewrite parts of ransom’s character and his role months after i originally posted it because i realized i had written some pretty shitty stuff regarding black men) but, meh, row upon row is always one i’d like… want to go back and fix, especially the rushed ending, but i can’t go back and change it now because it’s been read by too many people…

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

super embarrassed. only my best friend knows because she’s also a writer but i still don’t feel super comfortable talking to her about it. we’re getting there with each other. she doesn’t write fanfiction ya feel though i think she’s read some

8) favorite genre to write

lmao idk i like writing comedy but plot is hard so i don’t often do it. character studies i guess, AUs, angst

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

music, and listening to people tell stories about themselves or others, just being around people is inspiring to me. i recently went to a show that was a mix of folk music and storytelling about prince edward island? and it was incredible i left there feeling so invigorated

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?

i do most of my writing in a café a minute from my apartment, with or without music depending on if my wireless headphones are dead or not, always w a blended matcha latté

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

oh man. i mean since i started writing in like, 2010? i mean, everything, obviously. but since 2015 – christ. still everything? well, definitely verb tenses/points of view/epithets/general structure and technique, definitely better at rhythm though that took some serious work and a couple stories focussed solely on rhythm and flow. i think i’m much better at nuance now – weaving different themes together to make at least a semi-coherent story… and general prose, i think. finding a balance between minimalism and appropriate imagery. i’m more comfortable playing around with grammar then i used to be. idk, i think my voice has just overall developed into something clearer and distinct from others.

12) your weaknesses as an author

plot and dialogue-heavy scenes. i like writing dialogue and i think the lines themselves are good usually, i just have a hard time, like finding the balance between dialogue, dialogue that has to accomplish something, and prose. and writing a neat point-a-to-point-b plot is a losing battle

13) your strengths as an author

i’ve been told setting, and i think that’s about right. i get obsessive about crafting like, a complete world where it feels like there are things that happen outside of the plot and the main characters. building fucking lore into the setting is the most fun for me. i think the details make the story.

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?

heeeelll yeah

15) why did you start writing?

idk i spent a lot of time on the internet and all the quote unquote cool kids were doing it. i was in a RP where we were all pretty close friends (still follow them on all social media including fb) and we just like, wrote each other fic. i was pretty good at writing before then (for a kid) and even was runner-up for a national award or something in grade six? i barely remember what it was for but i do remember the piece was called “autumn’s opus” and it was comparing the seasons to an orchestra or a piece of music idk. it was pretty killer for an 11-yr-old if i do say so myself

16) are there any characters who haunt you?

oh i don’t know about haunt but i do get sad about jack and kent all the time

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

read your dialogue out loud to see if it sounds natural (it probably doesn’t) and put dooooown the epithets. it’s lazy writing and you don’t need them. and reread reread reread reread. in different fonts, different colours, on differents days, out loud, by different people… reread!!

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?

absolutely anything by fluorescentgrey but especially her historical AUs, familiar’s character designs and rawness, waspabi’s dialogue and humour, montparnasse’s prose and tenderness, misandrywitch’s everything, and this piece which inspired a tattoo and pushed me to start experimenting with my own writing a couple years ago… among many others

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

oh i usually just give up halfway through that’s how

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

usually i go to the café and sit for like 5 hours and if i get a few hundred words out of that i’m happy

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?

ugh it’s so bad and shitty and i hate it all

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?

well, yeah. i don’t like writing about religion so i just… don’t, much. strange lovers had the most religion of anything i’ve ever written. and i’m cautious about writing about race though i’ve done it a few times… i don’t super like writing traditional coming-out stories because i just don’t care all that much so i’ll usually twist them around somehow if they’re necessary.

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

all of my life experiences inform my writing. that’s not me being facetious i just mean that i really like listening to people tell stories and telling stories myself and gossiping etc that i think it’s clear that i prioritize that in my writing

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

ah yes coal mining in 20th century nova scotia lmao

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

the very first paragraph from my nurseydex wip:

There are days where you think you could lose yourself in the fog and there are days where you wouldn’t mind. When you wake and it’s there eating the world up, surrounding it all like a living thing, voracious, and it’s even hungrier at night, and the only thing that reminds you you belong to the earth and are tied to it like the oldest and most solid daybeacon in the harbour is the horn, loud and long and haunting and filling. And the light. The light, the light, always the light.

#ask #laughingthelaughiest #my writing

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justanartsysideblog · 8 years

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Could I ask for all of the questions in the Companion Ask meme for Sylmae? This is totally not the anon that was asking about her earlier.

Your thirst is strong, anon. Well done. XD

Under the cut for length!

1. If not for the Conclave, what would drive your character to join the Inquisition?

Alright so...I’ll expand on an answer I gave before in a previous ask (that was definitely not you). Sylmae’s clan lived in the Hunterhorn Mountains, migrating from the higher peaks near the Anderfells, to The Tirashan forest, often disappearing into the wilds to escape from humans, including the Seekers who are currently moving in closer to the area. Sylmae’s wife, Nimronyn, was the Keeper of their clan originally, before their clan was attacked by religious zealots of the Anderfells, and Nimronyn and many others were slaughtered.

Sylmae took the remains of the clan deeper into the Hunterhorns, until the rifts began to appear in the sky, and she noticed something odd was beginning to happen with the Grey Wardens in the Anderfells. Her people, while reclusive, were known to trade with the Grey Wardens if they entered into the clan’s territories.

Sylmae decided that with these current events, the best course of action would be to seek aid from the Inquisition, in exchange for information, and Sylmae’s skills. Most of the clan that remained were the young or the old, who are easy prey and cannot fight, aside from a small group of younger hunters and mages, and Sylmae offers her services in exchange for their protection.

2. How would they meet the Inquisitor?

Sylmae would likely send one of her scouts with a message, first, to ask for aid from the Inquisition. If it is granted, Sylmae and her clan will come and join the Inquisition. This will boost the Secrets perk area at the War Table, as Sylmae offers young scouts and spies. There are also several magical healers, as the ‘three mages to a clan’ rule is bullshit in Sylmae’s clan does not follow it.

If the Inquisitor says no, Sylmae’s clan will disappear into the Tirashan, and reappear later as agents for Fen’Harel, giving Solas a large boost in his forces in regards to magic.

3. What would some of their cutscenes look like?

Likely it would center around the aravels near the stables, where Sylmae’s clan has settled. Usually they would involve Sylmae helping repair an aravel, or groom the halla and harts, or teaching the younger clan members magic or hunting and survival skills.

4. What would their romance route look like? Would they be romanceable?

Yes, Sylmae would be romanceable by any female inquisitor. It would be a very, very slow burn, as Sylmae was previously married to Nimronyn, who died several years earlier. Sylmae wants to protect her clan above all else, and so is focused on that task. Therefore she is less inclined to begin an romantic relationships initially, as she feels she has too much on her plate.

Initially, an elf inquisitor would have the most positive reception in regards to initiating a romance, simply because her clan is so reclusive and wary of non-elves. Dwarven and Vashoth women would be next, with a human female having the hardest time gaining Sylmae’s trust, as the humans of the Anderfells were responsible for the slaughter of her clan and the death of her wife. She has a much more positive reception to humans who are Grey Wardens, though, as they dealt with them from time to time.

The romance route would mostly be the Inquisitor flirting, and suggesting an interest, and Sylmae initially being blunt and honest about her focus on her clan, and fixing the rifts. If the Inquisitor gains high approval, however, and continues to speak with Sylmae and form a companionship, romance options will eventually appear that would end in some beautiful, emotional kisses and probably some nice sexy scenes. XD

5. If they romanced someone as Inquisitor, would they still fall for that person as a companion? How would that play out? How would they react to that person being romanced by the “new” Inquisitor?

I’ve never thought of Sylmae AS anything other than a companion...and I don’t think she’d ever be in this situation, because Sylmae trusts the Chantry about...-100 so there is no way she’d come to the Conclave without all of the rifts appearing first and the Inquisition already forming.

But if the Inquisitor does not romance Sylmae, it will be mentioned offhand in conversations that Keeper Sylmae and 'one of the Dalish scouts’ are quite close (*coughcough*Elalas?*coughcough*). Whether this relationship is romantic or not will never be fully confirmed.

6. Write some of their party banter (in reaction to major events, scenery dialogue, or just shitting around. Askers can specify for which character/event, or leave it up to the writer).

I’m going to make a big post, maybe, with lots of banter because this post is WAY TOO LONG. So stay tuned for that!

7. What would be on their tombstone in the fade (what is their greatest fear)? Oathbreaker. Sylmae swore to Nimronyn she would protect the clan, so breaking that promise and having them all perish is her greatest fear.

8. What kind of Inquisitor would drive them to leave the Inquisition/confront them about their actions (what gets their approval low? what does that scene look like)? A pro-templar, anti-mage, anti-elf Inquisitor is going to be the type of person that will get Sylmae to take her clan and leave. Any banter that involves any of the aforementioned topics will lead to disapproval from her. Or a very pro-Andrastian Inquisitor who continually talks to her about the religion.

She is not an outwardly emotional person, usually, so there would be not big explosive anger. Likely after the argument, there would be a cutscene of Sylmae’s clan packing their aravels, and the Inquisitor walking up and asking what they are doing, and Sylmae would tell them that her clan will take their chances with the demons and darkspawn in the Hunterhorns, as the Inquisitor has made it clear how little her people are worth.

9. Where in Skyhold would they be found? (e.g. Cole is in the tavern rafters, Leliana in the top of the tower, Varric in the throne room, etc.)

With the rest of her clan and their small aravel camp, near the stables.

10. If Inquisition operated like DA:O, what would their gift items be? What would their approval and disapproval Feast Day items be?

A gift would be...hm, something small or thoughtful that Sylmae has mentioned she enjoys: candied figs, a carving of a hart, a Dalish token the Inquisitor found.

Feast Day Approval item: a new fishing rod because her last one broke

Feast Day Disapproval item: an Orlesian compendium of Dalish culture.

11. How would they grow as a person? How would they compare at the end of the Inquisition as a companion to who they were as the Inquisitor?

Sylmae would grow more open to those who were not elves. She would be less closed off, and smile more frequently, and engaged in conversations with others more willingly.

12. Do they believe the Herald of Andraste is really the Herald of Andraste?Not at all.

13. If the Herald didn’t have them tag along to prep the trebuchets, what would they do during the battle for Haven? (bonus: would they join in on the impromptu Dawn Will Come choir practice in the camp?) Sylmae would be helping get people out of Haven, likely carrying someone who could not walk themselves. She would be one of the last out. No, she would definitely not join in the imprompty Dawn Will Come sing-a-long.

14. What nickname does Varric give them? Keeper

15. Without the influence of their decisions for the Inquisition, which of the companions do they get along with? Which ones do they bicker with? Sylmae gets along with Cole and Varric mostly, and also, surprisingly, Blackwall. Blackwall being a “grey warden” makes Sylmae more open to him than the other humans.

Solas and Sera are the type that Sylmae would talk about being Dalish with, and disagree with, but not angrily. Sylmae understands Sera’s feelings, and would want to explain but not push. If Sera had any questions she’d answer them freely. Sylmae would not be a fan of Solas’ bashing of the Dalish, what with her being a Keeper and all, but she’d be interested in his stories, and question him a lot on what he thinks and why he thinks it. Living in the Tirashan means that her clan traveled around very ancient ruins and found lots of secrets there, so she’s quite knowledgable in that area. So she wouldn’t hate Solas, but she’d definitely think he was pretentious, and certainly has a lot to say in regards to the Dalish for not being one.

She would bicker more antagonistically with Dorian and Bull, for differing reasons. She thinks both offer her people different sets of chains and nothing of merit.

She also has a rather bad relationship with Cassandra, for several reasons. The Seekers have been pushing into the Tirashan, and also Cassandra’s devout Andrastian beliefs put Sylmae on edge for reaons I’ve already mentioned. She also doesn’t agree with Leliana often, but Leliana at least doesn’t berate her with questions about her faith.

16. What would the Fear Demon say to them in the Fade to try and discourage them? Talks about failure, and the slaughter of her clan, and the promise she made to Nimronyn.

17. Where do they hang out in the Winter Palace? What’s their thoughts on the nobles/The Game? Sylmae hates The Game. She thinks it’s ridiculous, just like she thinks every single Orlesian is ridiculous. She would probably hang out with Blackwall, where it’s nice and quiet until she’s needed.

18. What’s their reaction to a dragon showing up? Welp. Time to kill a dragon, I guess, before it hurts someone. Unless we can just drive it away?

19. Once Corypheus is beaten, what do they do during the party? Do they stay with the Inquisition, or go somewhere else? What could the Inquisitor do to convince them to stay? Sylmae would probably take her clan and head back to the Tirashan. But she’d go to investigate some new ruins, because she saw something that resembled the orb Corypheus weilded in a mosaic somewhere and wants to go see if she can find some answers. But she would keep in touch with the Inquisitor, especially if she romanced her.

20. How do they react to learning abominations can retain their consciousness and identity, and even live peacefully with their spirits/demons, as seen in Stone-Bear Hold? Not surprised. Sylmae’s clan is very open to magic and inviting spirits. It definitely isn’t a big deal to her at all.

21. What do they think of the discoveries made in the Deep Roads? Do they make any comments on anything? Sylmae has lots of digging to do (no pun intended) into some ancient ruins back home now...there are too many new unanswered questions for her that she doesn’t like.

22. If you have another Inquisitor, how would those two get along, specifically? Sylmae would get along pretty swimmingly with most of my Inquisitors, I think. Olwyn would take the longest, being a human, but they share a lot of viewpoints so it wouldn’t be hard.

23. In trespasser, what “gift” would they give the Inquisitor, if any? A Dalish amulet of an eagle, as that is the shape Sylmae can shift into.

24. What are their plans for after the Exalted Council? Will the Inquisition staying in tact or being disbanded make a difference? It won’t make much of a difference if the Inquisition stays in-tact or disbands. Sylmae and her clan will likely leave the Inquisition, and return to the Tirashan and Hunterhorn Mountains, but they will keep in touch, and Sylmae is still investigating the ancient elvhen ruins she finds.

25. In the alternate reality, if they were corrupted with lyrium, how do they act? What’s their attitude about the end of the world/their inevitable death? She failed. Very morose. If she dies, she dies, that doesn’t matter to her. But it is the job of the Inquisitor to fix this, now. So the Inquisitor had better do so. And tell her past self...that she made a promise, and if she breaks it, this Sylmae will find her and make her pay.

#companion!sylmae #sylmae #wow this was long #thanks for the ask!#Anonymous

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