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megalony · 4 years

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She’s a good girl- Part 7

Here is the next part in my murderer! Ben series, I hope you will all like what I have install, any feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Series taglist: @onceuponadetectivedemigod @lelifesaver

Series masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) is a good girl from a church-going family and her brother, Joe is trying to put Ben behind bars. But when (Y/n) starts to fall for the dangerous killer, things get complicated.

Enjoy.

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"Are you ready?"

(Y/n)'s tired and rather distant eyes lifted from the paper in her hands to look at her father who was now out of the white robe he adorned earlier and was back in his black clothing with his white strip running through his collar. His eyes were soft and his smile showed the creases in his cheeks and underneath his own tired eyes but he looked much the same as he always had done. He didn't seem to age in (Y/n)'s eyes, even the new lines appearing in his skin didn't seem to make him look older. Only his glassy eyes showed his age because they had seen too much and tried too hard to help those in need.

Her lips moved from resting in a straight line to bending just a little at the corners like someone was trying to bend a ruler but couldn't quite manage it. Her expression was one of worry and contemplation, but not the kind that was normally on her features. (Y/n) didn't look half as worried as she sometimes did but this worry was like none other she had felt before.

When (Y/n) shook her head, she watched her father take a deep breath before placing his hand to the small of her back, guiding her over to the front row so they could take a seat in the alter and talk. Everything was packed away and everyone was either back home or outside chatting, Paul knew a few minutes in here would go unnoticed by everyone, they had the time.

"What's wrong, honey?"

Paul knew as well as (Y/n) did that this week's sermon seemed to hit her like no other. Sometimes he didn't have the time to notice how (Y/n) reacted to what he was saying, other times he could see her adoration and the way her eyes lit up and her body leaned forward so she could absorb every word he said. Only a few times more recently had he managed to see her and notice that she wasn't entirely here.

Sermons seemed to calm the whole family down, they didn't calm (Y/n) as much as they did when she was younger but they still clearly seemed to help her in some way and it made Paul happy to know her faith wasn't wavering.

"You talked about redemption earlier... do you think it's something we have to do on our own, or does he help us with it?" (Y/n) could feel the tears building up behind her eyes which she was trying so hard to keep there, she didn't want to cry right now, she didn't want her father to know how badly redemption was playing on her mind.

His sermon today wasn't focused solely on redemption but it came up a lot and it scared (Y/n). She grew up knowing that sins were hard to wash away, they were like paint, they could be covered up but they were still there, they didn't truly go away.

She wanted to know if getting rid of sins or coming to terms with them was something she had to face alone or if God and her faith could make it easier.

(Y/n) knew her father was contemplating asking her what sins she was talking about because he didn't know her to have any sins that would play on her mind this much. She also knew if she told him certain things it was always in confidence and he would listen as her reverend, not her father. But (Y/n) couldn't tell him this time and he seemed to realise it rather quickly. But it didn't stop him from reaching across to take her hand in a comforting hold that made her heart jump in her chest.

"That depends what kind of redemption you want. If you want to be saved from evil, then that is something he and only he can help with. If you're trying to save someone else then that is you and your faith, but if you're asking for redemption from your sins, I think that is more you than him. He will give you acceptance and forgive, but it isn't always his job to save you."

There was something so comforting in the way that her father could word his answers that gave her a sense of relief or understanding unlike her mother or most other people. Paul didn't know all the answers but if he didn't know them he still sounded certain and gave a proper response, he didn't beat about the bush or make something up.

It was comforting, even to know that this was something (Y/n) couldn't ask to be done for her.

"Why does he put us here if he can't always save us? Why create something if you'll just watch it burn?" (Y/n) believed in God, she knew there was some kind of other being out there that gave them purpose and guided them, but sometimes she couldn't understand God.

(Y/n) couldn't see why a being would create a world and all the people in it if he couldn't handle them all or be bothered to save them. So many people were hurt or in pain and in need of saving and he let them perish when they didn't deserve it. It seemed pointless.

"Some people don't want saving, some people can't be saved. I don't know why God created us, but he isn't our controller, he isn't the puppet master, honey. We make our own paths, it isn't in his power to save us from everything."

(Y/n) could understand that, she could relate. People had children and loved them and brought them up but they couldn't control them and their every move, they couldn't always save their children or stop them. Paul and Linda couldn't stop (Y/n) from going out anymore, they wouldn't be able to stop her from being with Ben or living her life and that might hurt them, but this is what they signed up for when they had her.

"I- I know everybody sins, no one's perfect and that's fine, but I don't get it. If God gets disappointed that we sin, why did he make so many rules that aren't always fair? Why would he contain us like that and expect so much of us? If he gets so disappointed in us, you'd think he would create us so we didn't do anything wrong or step out of line. He set himself up for failure by creating us so he can't control us and then get mad when we don't do as he pleases."

Sinning was normal, no one was made to be perfect and mistakes were how everybody learns and grows and evolves. But (Y/n) couldn't see why mistakes were so horribly bad, they weren't always on purpose or done with malice. God shouldn't be disappointed in people committing sins when he made them so they couldn't be controlled and had their own minds. No one would always do what he liked and he shouldn't make that a sin or be so displeased with them.

If he was really upset, he would create people so they didn't do anything wrong at all or he wouldn't create so many constricting rules. People were here to flourish and evolve, not live and die in strict confinements that made living just existing.

"If he was that disappointed, he wouldn't forgive so easily. I think you need to have a talk with him, try and find some peace with him. I'll be at home when you're ready, take as long as you need."

(Y/n) tipped her head down, smiling lightly when Paul squeezed her hand and kissed her head before he slowly got up and retreated down the aisle to go home. She did have some things she had to sort out with God and she hoped he was ready for what she had to say. If he didn't forgive her or give her an answer, (Y/n) didn't really mind because the peace she needed to find was with herself, not him.

Ten minutes or more passed by in a comfortable silence with (Y/n) sat with her eyes closed and one hand wrapped around the cross hanging from her neck. She rubbed the silver pendant between her fingers and thumb as she tried to see if she could forgive herself for the sins she had committed that didn't feel like sins at all.

She hadn't done anything that other people would deem as wrong, it was something God wouldn't like but (Y/n) didn't believe in a lot of his rules and ways of life that were so constricting.

Bringing the pendant to her lips, (Y/n) took a deep breath before she slowly let it fall back against her skin and stood to her feet. If she spent anymore time in here thinking about redemption and how to get it, she would drive herself insane. She needed to be out now, the church had comforted her for over an hour, it was time for a different form of comfort.

(Y/n) hooked her bag onto her shoulder before she walked out of the church, scanning her eyes around to make sure all of her family was back home before she left the gates and turned left instead of right to go in the opposite direction of her house.

She knew she had told Ben on Thursday that she would stay home this Sunday after sermon to have dinner with her family but she just couldn't. (Y/n) couldn't go back home and spend anymore time wallowing in her thoughts and drowning in fear of redemption for what she had done. She wanted to go and stay with Ben, she wanted to feel more at ease and feel his comfort and talk to him.

(Y/n) slowed down when she came close to the bus stop but then thought better of it and walked straight past it, going through the small cutting into the next street where she would be out of sight of the church and her street.

It took a good twenty minutes to drive from her home to Ben's so (Y/n) knew it would take longer to walk there but she knew the way by heart and a walk sounded nice. When the rain started to fall and large droplets fell against her, (Y/n) continued past each bus stop she walked by. She didn't want to get on the bus, she didn't want to call Ben and ask for a lift, she just wanted to walk like she didn't know where she was going. She wanted to walk and walk until the mist in her mind cleared and everything felt better.

(Y/n) pulled up the collar of her coat that had no hood, trying to keep the water from trickling down her neck but it made little difference. Her arms wrapped around her chest, locking her bag under her arm as she cut through a small path between two houses to reach the road she needed to be on which led to Ben's street.

She didn't know how long she had been walking before Ben's house finally came into sight but she knew it didn't feel like it had been long enough, the mist was still clouding her mind to the point she wondered how she could process or think about anything without getting confused.

(Y/n) desperately hoped that Ben would be home, if he was out at the club she really didn't want to walk all the way over there and scare him turning up in the mid-afternoon looking drenched to tell him she'd been walking around for over an hour. Nor did (Y/n) want to go home drenched like this and explain that she missed dinner because she'd aimlessly walked around to clear her head. Her father would be even more worried about her than he already was and her mother would throw a fit. Not to mention what Joe would say since he was at home today for dinner.

When she reached the door, (Y/n) pressed the doorbell before pulling her coat around her a bit tighter to try and stop the rain from soaking her any more than it already had done.

"Doll- fuck, please don't tell me you walked all the way here in this?!"

The moment Ben opened the door he seemed to smile for a split second before his smile contorted into a look of anger and panic. He wasted no time reaching out for (Y/n) and pulling her inside before she caught her death stood out there for much longer. He knew it had been raining for at least half an hour and it would have taken her that long to get here, possibly longer and it was now heaving down with rain.

"I thought you weren't coming round today? Why didn't you call me?" There was evident panic in Ben's voice as he thought for a split second that he'd forgotten to pick her up. But if that was the case, surely (Y/n) would have called or texted him to remind him. He remembered her telling him she wanted to stay home this weekend and he was perfectly fine with that, he didn't expect her to drop every family event to be with him.

But he wished she would have called so he could have picked her up rather than her walking all the way here in this.

Ben bit his lip when (Y/n) didn't answer, she didn't even move when he undid her coat and shrugged it off her shoulders, dumping it near the stairs since it was soaked. Her hair was drenched and a few strands were stuck to her forehead and cheeks to the point they looked like they were merging with her skin or like they were painted on her.

He could see the droplets falling from her lashes and her chin and her shirt and trousers were completely soaked, she must be freezing.

"Didn't want to go home." (Y/n) tried to smile but it was hard when she could see the panic and confusion she was causing Ben.

"Has something happened?" Ben gently took (Y/n)'s face in his hands, tilting her head up to look at him as he noticed how cold she was. The small smile she flashed was enough to calm him down a little to know that nothing drastic had happened like an argument or a fight. If he found out her father had hit her again or her mother had said anything to her Ben wouldn't stand back and do nothing.

"No, I j-just wanted to be with you." When (Y/n)'s teeth started to chatter from the sudden change from cold to hot, she noticed Ben's jaw clench and his chest tighten before she was suddenly engulfed in his arms. He wrapped her up in his arms for a few moments before slowly turning her around so her back was to his chest.

"We need to get you warmed up."

Ben ushered (Y/n) upstairs and into the bathroom before he disappeared to grab some of her clothes that she had left here. When he returned he was holding some of her underwear and leggings and one of his jumpers to make sure she stayed warm.

"Jump in the shower and warm up." His words were gentle and spoken with his lips against her forehead but when he went to pull away and leave the room, (Y/n) latched her hands around his arms and pulled him back to her. She didn't have to say it for him to see in her eyes that she wanted him to stay and join her and it worried him that she wasn't talking and the contemplation about something he could see on her face.

But he didn't question it. He turned on the shower before he slowly and carefully helped peel off her soaking wet clothes that were almost like a second skin to her now. When his own clothes were removed they got in the shower that caused (Y/n) to take a sharp breath and made her tremble at the water that felt like bullets hitting her ice cold skin.

Ben's chest tightened and felt like it was pushing inwards when he held (Y/n)'s trembling form against his chest, watching how she curled up against him with her arms encased to her chest, trapped between them both. She felt Ben pulling her forward a little until she was directly under the stream of water that no longer felt like it was battering her cold skin and she could feel one arm tightening around her lower waist as his other hand tangled in her hair. His fingers slowly and methodically massaged her scalp and rid her hair of any knots as his lips pressed to her head.

Neither of them said anything for a good twenty minutes that they were under the water before Ben slowly turned off the shower when (Y/n) steadily stopped shaking against him and he felt that she was warmed up and a bit better.

(Y/n) quickly got dried and changed so the cold air didn't have much chance to seep back under her skin and she blindly followed Ben out of the bathroom when he took her hand in his own. They headed downstairs and into the living room and Ben watched how (Y/n) curled up on the sofa, pulling her knees to her stomach and her arms to her chest, sinking into the soft cushions like she was about to disappear. There was something so sweet and innocent about the way she was sat and how she looked up at him through her lashes and it made his stomach flip but his mind fill with curiosity.

He wasn't used to her being this quiet around him, she was usually bubbly or tired or excited and talking endlessly about something she was happy or passionate or worried about and he loved her like that. Her being so quiet didn't settle well with him.

"Is something up, you're not usually this quiet and you walked all the way here in the bloody rain. You could have called, I would have come and got you straight away, you know that. You could have made yourself sick." Ben didn't want to seem like he was giving her a lecture but he was confused. Something was clearly wrong and (Y/n) came over here in a thin shirt and coat that didn't keep out the rain or the cold. She could have made herself ill coming here when she could have just rang him for a lift.

Ben reached over and gently pulled (Y/n)'s legs onto his lap as he leaned back and rested his head on his hand with his elbow propped up on the back of the sofa so he could look over at her.

"I was gonna go home like I said, but my dad's sermon just kept making me think and the more I thought... the less I wanted to go home. I want to be here but I needed the walk to think."

"What was so bad you had to walk forty minutes in the rain to think about? You're starting to worry me now, doll." Ben knew it had to be something serious for (Y/n) to walk all the way here instead of calling him, especially to walk in the rain like that which wasn't something she would have normally done. He was starting to wonder if he'd done something but then again she wouldn't have come here if he had. Something had clearly happened to make her this contemplated and unsettled.

He watched curiously as (Y/n) slowly pushed herself up until she was sitting straight but she wouldn't look at him. He noticed the way she was pulling the long sleeves over her hands out of nervous habit but Ben could still see her rubbing her fingers together beneath the fabric.

"I, um..." (Y/n) rubbed at her eyes with her sleeve when she couldn't stop the tears from beginning to fall. "I'm pregnant."

(Y/n) felt her stomach jumping when Ben's hands suddenly held her ankles that he used to pull her closer. He pulled on her ankles and moved her legs so they were either side of him like he was reeling her in until she was close enough for him to wrap his arms around.

(Y/n) held onto his arms to steady herself but her eyes were cautious and slightly confused. She didn't know if he would be happy or angry or sad, displeased or even unconcerned about this, she had no idea how he was going to react, but that wasn't what was worrying her the most. The tender smile on his lips was calming but it told (Y/n) that he wasn't looking at this in the same way she was.

"Why're you crying, this is a good thing." Ben tipped his forehead against her own as he moved his hands to her bum so he could sit her properly on his lap with her legs hooked around his back. He didn't want her to cry because this wasn't a bad or unhappy situation, they were going to have a baby and Ben was happy about this. He knew his work and who he was didn't make him seem like the fatherly type but he wanted this as long as (Y/n) did.

"Y-you don't understand..." (Y/n) moved her hands from his shoulders to gently hold his neck, brushing her thumbs over his skin as she tried to stop crying but she couldn't.

She looked at him through watering eyes with her lips pressed very tightly together until she saw the light flick on in his mind and he suddenly realised what she meant. It took all (Y/n) had not to dig her nails into his neck to try and get him to say something when all he was doing was staring into her eyes with a silent message she couldn't decipher.

"Oh. The baby can't be born out of wedlock, can it? That would go against your faith." Ben's answer wasn't patronising or condescending and he wasn't snarkily grinning at her or looking at her like he was annoyed or angry with her. All (Y/n) could see in his eyes was understanding and somehow, that made her feel worse.

Sex before marriage had made (Y/n) feel like she was going against her faith because it was morally wrong but at the same time, it didn't damage her faith or her beliefs. But having a baby out of wedlock was something (Y/n) couldn't do. She knew it was normal and it wasn't wrong and hundreds of people were fine with having a child without the need to be married and (Y/n) had nothing against people doing that. But she believed in her faith and the way she had been raised with her religion.

It was the right way to do things, to get married before having a baby and (Y/n) wanted to do that. She knew deep down having a baby without being married wasn't right for her. Marriage was a symbol between two people and it was a sign and connection to God and her faith and having a baby when she was married was another sign of her faith.

"I- I'm sorry, I c-can't... I don't-"

"Shh, doll, what are you sorry for? I played a part in this too and I may not share your religion or faith but I still respect it. I know how much your faith means to you and you should know how much you mean to me. This isn't a problem, we'll get married."

Ben could feel (Y/n)'s hands shaking against his neck to the point she was almost shaking his head before she let go of him. The way her lips were curved into a worried and rather unhappy, uneasy look made Ben confused and when she tried to pull away and climb off his lap, he wouldn't let her.

"Hey, no don't do that. Stay here and talk to me, doll you ain't going until you talk to me." Ben splayed his hand on her lower back and his other hand against the back of her neck, holding her tight enough to steady her and stop her from wriggling away but not enough to hurt her. He could see she was upset but he wasn't having (Y/n) walking away whilst she was still upset and in a state. She was staying with him so they could talk this out.

She needed to marry Ben so the baby wouldn't be born out of wedlock and he was agreeing and saying he was fine with that but she was still somehow upset or unhappy about it which meant either she didn't want to marry him or something else was wrong.

Ben brushed his thumb over the side of her neck, raising his brows as he kept her face level with his until she caved in, knowing she couldn't go anywhere and had to talk.

"I- I don't want you to marry me because you think you have to. You're saying this because of the baby and I'm thankful that you understand b-but I can't- I don't want to marry you if you're just doing this because it's the 'right thing to do.' You shouldn't be tied down to me."

(Y/n) loved Ben and she would want nothing more than to marry him and spend the rest of her life with him and their baby, but she couldn't. She couldn't let Ben say that and go through with it if he was only marrying her because of her faith and because he thought he had to. It wouldn't be fair on him and (Y/n) didn't want to marry someone who wasn't marrying her out of love. Tying Ben down to her wouldn't be fair and it would most likely mean the marriage wouldn't last and (Y/n) couldn't have that either. She couldn't have a marriage that was doomed to fail, remarrying wasn't seen as acceptable in her religion or her faith.

She couldn't have a baby out of wedlock, but she couldn't marry someone who didn't really want to marry her either.

(Y/n) almost squeaked when Ben's hands were suddenly on either side of her face and his lips were suddenly smashed against her own with intent and too many emotions to recognise. She could feel his teeth clashing with hers and it was like his lips were sending sparks against her own like he was electrified. When he pulled back, he tipped his temple down against her own so their eyes were level.

"Your faith and happiness mean everything to me but if I didn't love you, I wouldn't tell you I'd marry you, I would be selfish and go against your faith because marriage isn't as important to me as it is to you. But I love you and there isn't anyone else I would want to marry. I am asking because of the baby but that doesn't mean I want to marry you any less, with or without the baby I would have asked you eventually."

Ben knew that if he and (Y/n) were just casually dating or if they weren't close and she got pregnant, he would be selfish and say he wasn't marrying her because he didn't love her. He wouldn't marry someone he didn't love or someone he knew a relationship wouldn't last with.

But with (Y/n), he knew he loved her more than he'd ever loved anyone else before and he wanted to be with her. Marriage may not mean all that much to Ben but (Y/n) did and he could already imagine himself being married to her and telling people and introducing her as his wife. (Y/n) should know him well enough to know she was special to him, he wasn't like this with everybody and if this happened with anyone else, he wouldn't marry them.

"Stand up."

"W-why?" (Y/n) brushed her eyes with the back of her hand, looking at Ben in confusion when his words changed from gentle and loving to his usual assertive tone.

A gasp left (Y/n)'s lips when Ben's hand wrapped around her back and his other hand held her bum so he could stand up with her held to his chest. She had no idea where he was taking her or what he was doing but her confusion only grew when he walked away from the sofa and to the other side of the room before he gently set her down to her feet.

"Ben, what-"

"I'm clearly not the person you should be marrying and if you had any sense you would have run away when your brother told you about me, but for some reason you didn't. And I'm thankful you came back to meet me that next day."

Ben couldn't deny that (Y/n) was either a rebel in her heart or she had been walking blindly without her senses when she came back to see him the next day after meeting him. She shouldn't be going out with him, she should be with a good person who deserved her, not someone who killed and went against every belief she had. But (Y/n) pushed all that aside and she was with Ben and he couldn't be more thankful for that.

"Now I clearly don't have a ring yet, but..."

(Y/n) felt herself beginning to shake all over and she pressed her thumb to her mouth, biting it harshly when Ben looked at her very seriously before he went down on one knee in front of her. He didn't have to do this and he knew it but he was doing it anyway to show her that he was being serious. He didn't want to marry her out of convenience or loyalty or respect for her faith, he wanted to marry her because he loved her and he wanted to make her happy and have this baby with her.

She couldn't help the sob that bubbled up past her lips as she stared down at him, watching as he slipped one of the rings off his finger and held it up since it was all he could offer right now.

"Will you marry me?"

(Y/n) couldn't trust her voice to convey her answer so she resorted to nodding her head as quickly as she could like she was on a time limit to give him his answer. She let him take her hand and slip one of his rings onto her finger which wasn't too bad of a fit, it was a little loose but it wasn't slipping off her finger so it was perfect until he could get her a proper ring of her own.

Ben didn't get the chance to stand back up before (Y/n) launched herself at him, binding her arms around his neck and leaning against his propped up knee so she could kiss him like her life depended on it.

She knew that sooner or later, her family was going to find out and it was inevitable that they- including Joe, were going to find out exactly who Ben was and what he did for a living. She also knew that when that happened, her life was going to become much harder and worse than this. But for now, her two worlds were separate and she was going to bask in the euphoric feeling she felt around Ben and she wanted to drown in the love he was giving her.

Ben could feel her mumbling 'yes' over and over so quietly against his lips and it made him smile.

He didn't know why she was with someone like him and sometimes he wondered if he was corrupting a good girl. But he couldn't find it in himself to care. He wasn't letting her go for anything in the world.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben x reader #imagine #BoRhap #joe mazzello #joe mazello imagine #murderer! ben #shes a good girl

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pretendwiseguysofficial · 3 years

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MBTI: Star Wars

Written by Ryan (archive post from January 30, 2019)

It’s the gift that just keeps giving! And it will, forever, and ever, and…….ever, because of Disney. I can see both good and bad in that. Anyway, here’s another daunting list of characters, this time from Star Wars. Major characters have gotten their own articles. Rey: ISFP (https://goo.gl/p5TKP4) Finn: ENFP (https://goo.gl/bXp2fU) Kylo Ren: ESFP (https://goo.gl/Fh2cSa) Poe Dameron: ESFP (https://goo.gl/rFc6ob)

Luke Skywalker: INFP (separate thread pending) Han Solo: ISTP (separate thread pending) Leia Organa: ESTJ (separate thread pending) Lando Calrissian: ESTP (separate thread pending) Obi Wan Kenobi: ENFJ (separate thread pending) Yoda: INFJ (separate thread pending) Darth Vader/Anakin Skywalker: ISTJ (separate thread pending) Sheev Palpatine/Darth Sidious: ENTJ (https://bit.ly/2B8rzk4) Darth Maul: ISTP (separate thread pending) Qui-Gon Jinn: ENFP (separate thread pending)

Ahsoka Tano: ENFP (separate thread pending)

More Below

PREQUELS

Padme Amidala: ESFJ Padme is the most prominent ESFJ in the saga (aside from C3PO), and she’s portrayed by Natalie Portman with……..wooden acting. How ironic. The basic white girl of the saga is reduced to a monotone delivery in the first film. Who knew the Queen had to act like such a dingus so that her body double would have an easier time imitating her? If you think about it, it’s pretty genius. That being said, Fe is the name of the game here for Padme, as she’s primarily concerned with the needs and wants of those around her, and often champions for social causes due to her role as a senator later on in the films. The Clone Wars series amplifies her primary Fe and secondary Si, as she fights to restore the Republic to its glory days.

Count Dooku: INFJ No one got tricked harder by Palpatine’s schemes than Dooku did. Darth Tyranus himself wanted nothing more than for the Separatists to restore a rightful order to the galaxy (in his eyes), free from the corruption of the Jedi and the Republic. Even as he was in on most of Palpatine’s grand plans from the start, he was unaware of his master’s true deception towards him until his final seconds.

It’s only fitting that the gentlemanly villain of the saga, and even more fitting that he wanted Obi-Wan as his apprentice (another xNFJ), to usurp Palpatine. Count Dooku is basically the Ra’s Al Ghul of Star Wars.

Jar-Jar Binks: ESFP My favorite character! Just kidding. But really, Jar-Jar ain’t all that bad; he’s just an annoying ESFP. Jar-Jar lives primarily in the moment as a comic relief goober that bares little-to-no importance to the plot, except for the crowning moment where he facilitates the senate to give Chancellor Palpatine emergency powers. Oh, now you’ve got a reason to hate him.

Mace Windu: ENTJ “George……I want a purple lightsaber. Pleeaaaase?”

Unfortunately, Samuel L. Jackson himself never got to utter his catchphrase as he portrayed a more stoic ENTJ this time around. Mace Windu, known in the Legends continuity for his infamous Shatterpoint technique (very Te-based), gifts a strategic mindset to the Jedi council. He’ll often say things for how they are in a Te-based manner (but with a little more tact), such as when he states that Anakin is too old to be trained when Qui-Gon presents him to the council. And then he’ll sometimes give us some one liners, such as “this party’s over.” But the signifier of Te-Ni? When he proposes to execute Palpatine because he is too dangerous.

Jango Fett: ISTP Jango Fett? Neevah houd uf ‘im. But what about Boba? Rest aside, Jango Fett just cares about the fat stacks he gets from being a clone template so he can be the best dad in the galaxy there is, and he don’t care who pays him. Sounds pretty ISTP to me.

General Grievous: ESTJ Hello there! Our favorite coughing cyborg general turns out to be an ESTJ. Through primary Te, he barks out orders to his subordinates, often impatiently. It’s like he knows you knew how to do it but screwed up, which is a superpower that ESTJs have and will use to pounce on you and your failures.

Grievous himself is a natural boaster, like any ESTJ. Your GIFs will make a fine addition to his collection!

ORIGINAL TRILOGY

Tarkin: ESTJ Roll your R’s! Heighten your received pronunciation! Peter Cushing is here to add some Britishness to your Star Wars! Tarkin stands as one of the most brilliant tactical minds the Empire has known (rivaled only by Grand Admiral Thrawn). But he is also one of the governors/administrators of the Empire, and it is because of this reason that he has become known for his Te, dishing out orders with an elegant terror. ESTJ it is, folks.

Boba Fett: ISTP Fact: Boba Fett survives the Sarlacc Pit in both continuities. A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one. Everyone’s favorite character, Boba Fett, is just like his father (an ISTP); his allegiances do not matter as long as his employers pay him fat stacks. Unless he has to work with Han Solo. Archenemies do not get along that well. The everchanging neutrality of the ISTP is displayed most importantly in the Legends continuity, in one story where Fett himself turned on Vader and dueled with a lightsaber (successfully), when it wasn’t in his own interests to side with Vader.

R2D2: ENTP I’m always under the theory that if we could hear R2D2 speak, he’d be swearing ¼ of the time. This wisecracking little astromech droid always comes up with creative solutions when in a bind, all the while wising off to C3PO in the process. Sounds like Ne to me, right? But more importantly, the moral of the story for most ENTPs to learn is a little common sense and to sit back and think things through a little more. Sure they have excellent reasoning abilities on the spot, but would R2 have ended up in a Jawa sandcrawler if he hadn’t smarted off to Threepio in the desert and abandoned him? He may have had a “mission,” but he could have let Threepio in on it.

C3PO: ESFJ Like a true ESFJ, goldenrod here never learns to shut his mouth. The ESFJ will blab on and on about small talk and things no one cares about, which is often why C3PO gets interrupted all of the time when he explains what he does or where he has been. Much to his annoyance, too. Because he’s a protocol droid, his Fe is slanted to please others, and this is why we have the perfect ESFJ in this galaxy far, far away.

Chewbacca: ISFJ Can Chewbacca really be typed? I think so! Just because we don’t hear him speaking anything, doesn’t mean he can’t be! Solo: A Star Wars Story did a really good job of fleshing out Chewie’s character, giving him motives and ambitions. Such as, his desire to free his people in the spice mines of Kessel. That moment signaled one of the few times that Chewie would act impulsively, to me, and it reeked of ISFJ.

Jabba the Hutt: ESTP Big shot gangster, you say? That’s pretty clear-cut, ESTP. And we see this in Return of the Jedi; Jabba just sits around on his butt indulging in sensual pleasures, changing his mind in deals quite often. He’s a reasonable man, since he uses Ti. In A New Hope, we see the way he deals with Han Solo, and he restrains his displeasure in the hopes of giving him another chance to pay him back. ESTPs, with their tertiary Fe, can often do this, although their patience will ultimately wear thin in the long run.

Wedge Antilles: ISTJ Wedge is your basic everyman, like any ISTJ there is. Does he have much of a personality to him? Not really, but from what I’ve seen of him, he reeks of ISTJ.

THE CLONE WARS

Asajj Ventress: ISFP Ventress has been burned in life before, so it’s easy to assume that she could be an ISTP based upon her cold, sarcastic exterior. However, upon further examination, ISFP seems to fit far better. Ventress lives wholly for the moment, so it would be easy to think maybe she could be an Se-user. However, her biting comebacks that she displays are a very common trait from many other fictional ISFPs, who, when unhealthy, can show a lack of morality when it comes to their enemies and this is displayed in their inferior Te which manifests as either a childish outburst or a calm and collected burn. Her primary Fi is displayed with her sense of purpose with the Nightsisters, fueled by revenge against Dooku. In the New Canon novel Dark Disciple, we see the cold exterior melt a little bit in Ventress’ newfound romance with Quinlan Vos, and we finally see her inch toward becoming a healthier ISFP.

Captain Rex: ISTJ Rex is a simple man, and our main conduit upon which to view the clone troopers who chose not to obey Order 66, all due to a little thing called tertiary Fi. ISTJs are like big cuddly goobers sometimes, and Rex is quite the example sometimes, especially in his appearances in Rebels.

Mother Talzin: INFJ All Talzin wanted was her revenge on Palpatine for double-crossing her and taking her son Darth Maul, ultimately for the Nightsisters to prosper. She wanted power in the galaxy, but even Palpatine saw through her lunacy and said nah. Sometimes, because of their imaginations getting the best of them through Ni-Fe-Ti, the INFJ can seem a little bit delusional. And Mother Talzin seems pretty INFJ to me.

Hondo Ohnaka: ESTP Hondo Ohnaka loves to party, and he loves making material gains out of any situation possible; this only proves that he is ESTP. He’ll ally with you, and then betray you if the reward is greater, and this is fueled by Se as he sees infinite possibilities in the present moment. With secondary Ti, he’ll always choose the right words for the right purposes to weasel his way out of situations, and with tertiary Fe, he’ll also treat even his enemies in a cordial manner!

Cad Bane: ISTP The most grizzled and seasoned bounty hunter there ever was between Jango and Boba Fett’s dominance, Cad Bane means business and business means credits. And if you eff it up, he’ll get mad, because he only cares about himself and his payday, which is a common stereotype of many ISTP bounty hunters in fiction. The severely underdeveloped inferior Fe that he has explains his cold personality toward not only his enemies, but his fellow bounty hunters. And with his quick strategical mind informed through primary Ti, which also fuels his own sardonic wit, Cad Bane is an easy ISTP.

Savage Opress: ISTP There isn’t a whole lot of character development for Savage Opress, but he makes a terrible user of Fe (with the exception of his brother Maul), which is the inferior function of ISTPs. So I’m just going with ISTP here for Savage.

SEQUELS

Captain Phasma: ISTJ Phasma, portrayed by the lovely Gwendolyn Christie, has always managed to keep this air of coolness to her character despite being punked by Finn twice and surviving the explosion of a planet (and possibly a spaceship; we’ll find out in episode IX). Phasma herself is an ISTJ in the best possible way, and we find this out about her character in her work ethic which is displayed in the novels and comics of the new Disney canon. The wild extents of her tertiary Fi is explored more vividly in these new-canon works.

General Hux: ESTJ General Hux hates Kylo Ren (secretly) for his whining, immaturity, and overall terrible leadership skills, and the fact that Snoke clearly favors Ren compared to himself when it comes to leadership. What can we learn from such an ESTJ character? Well, we can learn that unhealthy ESTJs are prone to loud, angry outbursts and shouting matches when their patience wears thin (that which they run low on almost daily). The unhealthy ESTJ is also known for sucking up to their superiors while they ironically continue on to treat their subordinates terribly, such as the case when Hux sucks up to Snoke, or Kylo Ren when he usurps leadership. It is only because of Snoke’s protection that Hux was allowed to say whatever he wanted to Ren, and now that Snoke is gone, well……that’s an interesting dynamic to see in Episode IX to come.

Rose Tico: ISFJ Booooo! An ordinary type for an ordinarily character in Rose Tico.

Snoke: ENTJ We still know literally nothing about him, and quite honestly, I’m fine with that for the next few years. In The Force Awakens, he seemed quite the INTJ in his tiny amount of screentime. However though, he shows a much more charismatic side more indicative of a loony ENTJ. Those gold bathrobes……utter tertiary Se. And what differentiates Snoke from Palpatine, is a slightly more charismatic side that manifests itself in his speech, almost like he can’t get enough of his own voice (a trait also manifested by unhealthy ENTPs, but in a slightly different way), signifying ENTJ more than INTJ.

Maz Kanata: ENTP Maz Kanata is quite the character, being the leader of a den of space pirates and other equally colorful characters. And Han and Chewie seem to love her. Maz is ENTP; making quips about Chewie being her boyfriend, being the “guy who knows a guy” (like Cosmo Kramer of Seinfeld, another ENTP) with the Master Codebreaker, and going on wacky space adventures in her free time, as seen in her hologram in The Last Jedi. Mature ENTPs can add a large amount of wisdom to variety of experiences they’ve seen in their long lives, and it’s no wonder the screen sizzles when Maz is on it.

ROGUE ONE

Jyn Erso: ISFP It’s becoming a real trend, isn’t it? Female ISFPs in Star Wars? Never tell me the odds! Jyn Erso, like many other ISFPs, exhibits a “once burned, twice shy” mentality that often causes her to be reluctant to declare loyalty to anyone or even be involved in conflict. Like The Dude (an ISFP) from The Big Lebowski, and almost all other ISFPs, Jyn Erso doesn’t want to take a stake in any side of any conflict. She just wants her dad.

Cassian Andor: ISTJ It’s a pretty simple conclusion that Cassian Andor happens to be an ISTJ. As a higher ranking official in the Rebel Alliance (I presume?), it’s no wonder that he wants to follow orders first and foremost and eliminate Galen Erso, because his very own Si-Te is on overdrive. But then, the Fi hits. Oh, what the hell, Rogue One it is. Hello, Scarif!

K-2SO: INTP He’s the droid with the sassy wit! He’s gotta be ENTP, right? Nah, I think K2 is an INTP. Because most of his dialogue and humor revolves around skepticism, I’m going to stereotypically label him as an INTP. It just seems right, and I’m getting quite lazy right now.

Orson Krennic: ENTJ He’s the director of a project. That almost immediately indicates ExTJ, right? It does. And boy, what a massive amount of Te he has. With the amount of balls it takes for him to stand up to Tarkin, let alone run off to Darth Vader to tattle on him, I would say that it only signifies Krennic as an ENTJ, because an ESTJ would never have those balls unless they were given them by a higher up or through experience (ex. Tarkin). And why does he have Ni? First of all, he has a vision, and he’s sick and tired of a bureaucrat such as Tarkin taking credit for his accomplishments and then also taking control, something the ENTJ never wants to relinquish. And also, he’s got quite the fiery-hot temper.

Galen Erso: INTJ Galen is a bit reserved and dad-like (his purpose in this film too), and very healthy INTJs, like Galen, are kinda like that. He’s a very realistic portrayal of one that’s closer to real life INTJs. That being, his tertiary Fi is well-developed in that he was willing to betray the Empire and build a flaw in the Death Star.

SOLO

Tobias Beckett: ESTP “Didn’t I tell you never to trust anyone, Han?” Spoken like a true ESTP mentor, through tertiary Fe. As TV Tropes would put it, Beckett is another character that exemplifies the “Heel Face Revolving Door” trope, in which the character constantly switches allegiances throughout the story. A common stereotype of many slimy ESTPs are their tendency to switch sides for their own benefit, due to their primary Se and Ti. Just look at Lando in the beginning. That old scoundrel.

Qi’ra: ISTJ While not so mature as a youth on Corellia (is anyone ever, actually?), Qi’ra later comes into her own type over the years as she matures and we get to see her primary Si in action as she makes reasonable, considerable choices amongst the entire Millenium Falcon crew through the film. And Si is one for order and loyalty; that is, until the ISTJs Fi eventually gets the best of them in the second or third act and they have a change of heart. In this case, it’s her turning on Vos.

L3-37: INFP Freedom for droids! Sound like anyone you know? Probably that Social Justice Warrior or extremely passionate Fi-user that you know in real life. You know, like an INFP or an ISFP (morely likely an INFP though). The rest of you that are just as knowledgeable in MBTI, you can fill in the blanks and you’d probably agree with me on this one.

Dryden Vos: ESTJ Again, all he cares about is the money and the pleasures. So, another xSTP crimelord/bounty hunter stereotype? Actually not this time. Initially, I thought he was an ESTP due to this. However, the scene where Beckett reveals his true colors in the con and Vos temporarily offers an implied allegiance to Han to get him, only to turn on him when Beckett leaves, signifies a key difference between the ESTP and the ESTJ. While the ESTP may go forward and stick with the allegiance, the ESTJ will more than likely feign it. And the ESTJ will sometimes do anything and accept any methods to get the job done (tertiary Ne), but ultimately dish out order in the end after the parties and dust have settled, returning to the old status quo (or rarely, starting a new one). To be honest, I’m still thinking about this one. I might go back and change Vos to an ESTP. Who knows, in time.

GENERAL

Darth Plagueis: INTP Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the INTP? I thought not. It’s not a story Enneagram would tell you. It’s an MBTI legend. Darth Plagueis was an INTP so powerful and so wise he could use his primary Ti to influence the midichlorians to create…… life. He had such a knowledge of MBTI that he could even keep the ones he cared about from calling themselves an intuitive when they were a sensor, or convince an INTJ that MBTI was not baloney. The dark side of the INTP is a pathway to many abilities, some consider to be unnatural. Eventually, he became so powerful… the only thing he was afraid of was losing his Ti, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his ENTJ apprentice MBTI, then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. Ironic. He could save others from death, but not himself.

Iden Versio: ISTJ I swear, this series churns out ISTJs like an assembly line. With Iden Versio, I hadn’t played Battlefront II, but I’d only seen a few cutscenes on YouTube to know that she’s another ISTJ. For my reasoning, just like at Cassian Andor above; it’s pretty much the same, except for an even greater amount of tertiary Fi from Versio.

Grand Admiral Thrawn: INTJ And now for the last but not least, most interesting character in the entire saga: Thrawn. And while his type is nothing but obvious, it’s interesting to delve into. Unfortunately, I don’t have all the time in the world to grant him his own separate post, so a paragraph or two will do. As an INTJ, what separates him from an ENTJ is tertiary Fi, and as small as it is, it’s still there. Versus being almost non-existent in unhealthy ENTJs. This allows him a more suave, cool demeanor, almost gentlemanly and noble, versus the ENTJ’s “I’ll only display that attitude because I’m sociable and charismatic, but I won’t be it” demeanor. In the Thrawn trilogy in Legends, Thrawn is more considerate to his subordinates and his partners, such as Jorus C’Boath (giving him Luke Skywalker), than Palpatine ever was to anyone. More often than not, when an INTJ makes a promise, you can bet they’ll stick with it.

CHARACTERS WITHOUT DESCRIPTIONS

Alright now, for the sake of brevity of this article, here are the characters I will not type descriptions for, just because either they explain themselves, they don’t warrant enough of an explanation, they’re minor, or they aren’t as relevant anymore (Legends characters). In regards to

SEQUELS

BB8: ESFP DJ: ESTP Unkar Plutt: ESTJ Lieutenant Connix: ISFJ Admiral Holdo: ISFJ

ORIGINAL TRILOGY

Uncle Owen: ISTJ Aunt Beru: ISFJ Greedo: who knows Lobot: ISTJ Bossk: ESTP Dengar: ISTP Zuckuss: ISTP IG-88: INTJ (even more of an awesome character in Legends) Wicket Warrick: ESFP Nien Nunb: ESFP

ROGUE ONE

Bodhi Rook: ESFJ Chirrut Îmwe: INFP Baze Malbus: ISTJ Saw Gerrera: INFJ

SOLO

Val: ISTJ Rio: ESTP Enfys Nest Leader: INFP

PREQUELS

Watto: ESTJ Sebulba: ESTP Nute Gunray: ESTJ Zam Wessel: ISTJ Captain Tanaka: ISTJ Captain Typho: ISFJ Boss Nass: ESFJ

THE CLONE WARS

Plo Koon: INTJ Luminara Unduli: INFJ Aayla Secura: ESFP Kit Fisto: ENFJ Bariss Offee: INFP Fives: ESFJ Duchess Satine: ENFJ Pre-Viszla: ENTP Quinlan Vos: ESFP

REBELS

Kanan Jarrus: ISFJ Hera Syndulla: ISTJ Sabine: ISFP Zeb Orrelios: ESFP Ezra Bridger: INFP Chopper: ESTP

GENERAL

Bail Organa: ISFJ Mon Mothma: ENFJ Iden Versio: ISTJ

LEGENDS

THRAWN TRILOGY

Mara Jade: ISTP Jorus C’Baoth: ENFJ

JEDI KNIGHT

Kyle Katarn: INFJ Jan Ors: ISFJ Jaden Korr: INFP Rosh Penin: ESFP Jerec: ENFJ Sariss: ISFJ Desann: ENTJ Tavion Axmis: ENFP

THE FORCE UNLEASHED

Galen Marek/Starkiller: ISFP Rahm Kota: ESFJ Juno Eclipse: ISTJ

MISC.

Durge: ESTP Dash Rendar: ESTP Carnor Jax: ENTP

KOTOR

Revan: INTP Darth Malak: ESTJ Darth Bandon: ISFP Bastila Shan: ENFJ Carth Onasi: ISTJ Mission Vao: ISFP Zaalbar: ISFJ Juhani: ISFP Jolee Bindo: INFJ Canderous Ordo: ISTP HK-47: ENTP Kreia: INFJ Darth Sion: ESTP Darth Nihilus: INTP Meetra Surik: ENTP Satele Shan: ENFJ

OLD REPUBLIC/TALES OF THE JEDI

Marka Ragnos: INTJ Naga Sadow: ENTJ Exar Kun: ESFP Nomi Sunrider: ISFJ Ulic Qel-Droma: ENFP

25 ABY - 45 ABY (and others)

Jacen Solo (Darth Caedus): INFP Jaina Solo: ESTP Lumiya: ENTP Vergere: INTP Ben Skywalker: ISFJ Jagged Fel: ESTJ Tahiri Veila: ESFP Anakin Solo: ESFP Abeloth: ENTP

LEGACY

Darth Krayt: INTJ Darth Talon: ISTP Darth Wyyrlok: ENTJ Cade Skywalker: ESTP Ania Solo: ISFP K’Kruhk: ISTP Darth Wredd: ENTJ

MBTI CHART

Key = Bold - Important (separate article), Italics - Major, Asterisk - Legends

ESFJ: Padme Amidala, C3PO, Bodhi Rook, Boss Nass, Fives, Rahm Kota* ISFJ: Chewbacca, Rose Tico, Admiral Holdo, Kanan Jarrus, Bail Organa, Captain Typho, Zaalbar*, Nomi Sunrider*, Jan Ors*, Sariss*, Ben Skywalker* ISTJ: Darth Vader/Anakin Skywalker, Captain Phasma, Qi’ra, Captain Rex, Wedge Antilles, Cassian Andor, Iden Versio, Baze Malbus, Uncle Owen, Lobot, Val, Zam Wessel, Captain Tanaka, Hera Syndulla, Carth Onasi*, Juno Eclipse* ESTJ: Leia Organa, General Grievous, Dryden Vos, General Hux, Tarkin, Unkar Plutt, Nute Gunray, Watto, Darth Malak*, Jagged Fel* ESFP: Kylo Ren, Poe Dameron, Jar-Jar Binks, BB8, Zeb Orrelios, Aayla Secura, Quinlan Vos, Wickett Warrick, Nien Nunb, Exar Kun*, Tahiri Veila*, Anakin Solo*, Rosh Penin* ISFP: Rey, Asajj Ventress, Jyn Erso, Sabine, Galen Marek/Starkiller*, Mission Vao*, Juhani*, Ania Solo*, Darth Bandon* ESTP: Lando Calrissian, Tobias Beckett, Jabba the Hutt, Hondo Ohnaka, Bossk, DJ, Rio, Sebulba, Chopper, Cade Skywalker*, Durge*, Dash Rendar*, Jaina Solo*, Darth Sion* ISTP: Han Solo, Darth Maul, Boba Fett, Jango Fett, Savage Opress, Cad Bane, Zuckuss, Dengar, Mara Jade*, Canderous Ordo*, Darth Talon*, K’Kruhk* ENFJ: Obi Wan Kenobi, Duchess Satine, Kit Fisto, Mon Mothma, Jorus C’Baoth*, Bastila Shan*, Satele Shan*, Jerec* ENFP: Finn, Qui-Gon Jinn, Ahsoka Tano, Ulic Qel-Droma*, Tavion Axmis* INFP: Luke Skywalker, L3-37, Chirrut Îmwe, Enfys Nest Leader, Ezra Bridger, Bariss Offee, Jacen Solo/Darth Caedus*, Jaden Korr* INFJ: Yoda, Count Dooku, Mother Talzin, Saw Gerrera, Luminara Unduli, Kyle Katarn*, Jolee Bindo*, Kreia* ENTP: R2-D2, Maz Kanata, Pre-Viszla, HK-47*, Meetra Surik*, Lumiya*, Carnor Jax*, Abeloth*, Darth Wyyrlok* INTP: K2-SO, Darth Plagueis, Revan*, Darth Nihilus*, Vergere* ENTJ: Sheev Palpatine, Orson Krennic, Snoke, Mace Windu, Naga Sadow*, Desann*, Darth Wredd* INTJ: Thrawn, Galen Erso, IG-88, Plo Koon, Darth Krayt*, Marka Ragnos*

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lost1nspac3 · 4 years

Text

Who Am I?

The marauders put two and two together. They knew that Remus was alone, and just needed to feel loved. So that's what they did. When they got back to where they were camping, they started up the fire again and got the story of what happened from Remus. If it wasn't for Sirius holding his hand Remus would have run away again“i came out and- and my dad was angry. He threw pictures of our family across the room, broke vases, chairs, and the coffee table. He burned all photos that had me in them.....” Remus paused. It still hurt to tell the story. But now, he was safe. He was with his friends. “he- get threatened me. Called me a disgrace, disappoint, fag, so on....... My mom wasn't happy about this. She agreed with what he said but didnt like the way he was reacting by breaking things.... She cared more about a vase than her child..... ” Remus trailed off, leaving it at that. He wasn't going to say what happened next. “he hurt you didn't he” Peter said, putting a hand over his mouth. Remus nodded • • • The 4 marauders fell alseep about 5am. They were up all night talking, and ended up all in a bundle, hugging.People say that love has to be shown in words. But Remus Lupin knows this isnt true. When Remus Lupin is around bia friends, he feels loved. Even if thy are just sitting there. He feels loved. He feels wanted. He feels cared for.Remus grew up where love was a sore topic. Love was girl and boy. Not girl and girl or boy and boy. Remus thought gays were brave. He thought they're cool. He looked up to them. He knew he was onw of them when he met Sirius Black He knew he was in love. But he didnt tell anyone. He kept it a secret. He put on a mask. He hid who he was. And he hated itRemus Lupin is the friend that waits for you when you tie youe shoe. Remus Lupin is rhe friend that listens when you need to talk. Remus Lupin is the one that's scared to be him. Remus lupin is the one that loves everyoneRemus Lupin is who we need more of in this world."THIS IS RUBISH!" Sirius yelled, running a hand through his hair. "how does this stuff even work!??" It was summer, and the sun was setting. Remus, Sirius, James, and Peter were camping in the woods, something they did every summer. Dora Potter gave James some little challenge things for them to do, and some were harder than others. The first one was to do something no one has done before. This one was easy, mainly because of Sirius' wild imagination. He came up with the idea to turn into his dog form (also known as snuffles) when on a broom with James, whilst Remus and Peter set off fireworks. It was somwthing else, and if you didn't know the marauders, it'd seem really weird. "were lucky this stuff won't be on O.W.L.s " Peter said as he syarywd handing out some snacks he bought. "bloody hell, theres O.W.L.s next year!" James said, looking up from the paper he had been staring at. "im not ready for those-" they were all sitting around the fire, which was the only source of light other than the moon and stars in the sky (and their wands, but the only one that remembered that was Remus) Remus hasn't looked up from the paper, yet was listening to everything in the conversation. He was thinking about the question on the paper that Sirius was yelling about. He didnt know what to put for it. Who are you? At first, the boys thought the answer was there name. But then, they realized the question had much more to it. Who are you? What parts are you made of? What Makes you different? James and Peter had found a few things to write down, but Remus, nor Sirius, couldn't think of anything. 'what am I?' he had said when they got to this challenge. 'a werewolf?' he finished, rubbing the back of his neck. He had almost said 'monster' but stopped himself. He knew that wouldnt go over too well..... He truly had no idea what to write. Peter had written how he wad a good listener, how he was caring and kind, and how he knew small things about his friends that not many people knew. James had written about how he was a believer. He believed in himself and his friends, and someimes even his peers. (If they weren't a Slytherin that was. He really didnt like Slytherins.) He wrote that he would never give up on his friends and trusts them with his life. Sirius was also having trouble thinking about things, because of where he came from. He wasn't loved or cared for by anyone other than the Potters or his friends.

James and Peter went to get some more snacks from the tent when Remus and Sirius stayed at the fire, Remus never looking up from the paper. "I DONT KNOW WHO I AM!" Sirius yelled, throwing his arms into the air. "I DONT KNOW!" Even though Remus wasn't showing it, he was just as frustrated as Sirius was. He was starting to get mad at James' mom for giving them these challenges. After 5 minutes James and Peter came back to the fire, holding bunches of foods and snacks. Remus didn't eat anything though, He said he wasnt hungry. After about half an hour, Sirius came up with some things, saying that he was different and indepenident. It made sense, he was the first non-Slytherin in his family. "your brave " Remus said, looking up from the paper for the first time. "your brave for going back to that place every summer" Sirius looked into Remus' eyes for a second before nodding and writing that down. A little flutter of hope had gone through him when remus had said that he was brave. Remus wished he could say that HE was brave. Yeah, he had moments when he was brave, but most of the time he was a loser. His mind flashed to a month ago, when summer had just stared. The month he wished never happened. That's when evwrything went down hill. He hadnt told anyone about what happened thought. Just kept it to himself. His friends didn't need to know he was homeless. That's when Remus wrote something on the paper for the first time. He curled the y at the end of the word aroundd the bottom of it, making the word be underlined with the y's tail. He stared down at the word and sighed. It was who he was and he couldn't change that.

The word was gay.

After the word gay, remus wrote a few things the other said. Brave. Smart. Kind In small print off to the side though, Remus had a wrote things he didn't want anyone to see. alone, monster, disappointment, failure, ugly.... Most of the list is what he got told when he came out. None of it was from his friends, but more of less his parents. Remus kept adding to the list, adding homophobic slurs he got called by others, and other hurtful things that he knew he was, no matter what people told him.

Its was about 2 in the morning when Sirius feel asleep, then about 2:30 when peter and Remus fell asleep. James, who was still wide awake, notices the small handwriting in the corner of Remus' parchment. He read the words. Alone. Monster. Disappointment Failure. Ugly. Faggot. Mistake. Accident. Unlovable. Unnoticed. Homeless

James bit his lip and looked over at Remus. He was hugging himself in his sleep. 'hes homeless?' james thought to himself, setting the parchment back where Remus had set it. James didn't know what to do, or what to think. So he woke Sirius up.

"whadyawantProngs" Sirius muttered. He and james were farther away from the team and fire, james didn't want anyone to heae them. (He mainly didnt want Remus to know he read the paper). "its about Remus " james said. "i didnt know who else to tell, but he wrote really bad things about himself Sirius. He isn't ok." James paused and looked at Sirius, who now looked worried. "he wrote a monster, and that he's ugly and a disappointment and an accident and a f-" James couldnt being himself tk say the word. "he said he was homeless, Sirius. Something happened. He needs help Sirius sighed and rubbed his eyes. "lets talk about this tomorrow. Right now Rey is with us, and he's safe. Well ask him a out it tomorrow. Er- later today I guess James nodded and started walking back to the tent. But when they got there, the fire was out, and Remus was gone. All they found was a sobbing Peter.

---

"h-he r-ra-ran" Peter stumbled around the words, trying to stop sobbing. He couldnt believe what had happened. He could barely remember it. He had told the story to the best of his ability. At this point he was just repeating things.

Not long after James and Sirius left, Remus had woken up. He saw the paper had gotten moved and started freaking out mentally. Thats when it happened Thats when Lyall(a/n: sorry if its spelt wrong) Lupin apreared. Thats when Remus screamed, but it was muffled but his father putting his hand over his sons mouth. Peter woke at Remus' scream, and watched everything that happened under his eyelashes, not daring to open his eyes anymore. Peter heard the words Remus' dad spoke. Peter heard the quiet sobs Remus let out. Peter heard Remus call his name. Peter heard the calls for help. "Remus?" he muttered, acting like he had just woken up. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, then acted like he was just seeing the sence before him for the first time. Before Peter could say anything else, Remus' father dropped Remus and disappeared again. Peter went over to Remus. "are you ok? Should I get the oth-" Remus had fun before Peter could finish the sentence.

"shhhh Pete it wasnt your fault, calm down " James said, slightly hugging his friend. Peter nodded. It took a a few minutes, but soon he had calmed down. "we need to find him " Sirius said. He had beem staring at the paper remus had wrote on, re-reading everything on it. He was almost in tears. He couldnt believe anything that Remus had written. It hurt his heart. "i agree. Peter, did you see what direction he went in?" Peter nodded and started walking in the direction Remus went in. Sirius' hands were shaking. He had tears in his eyes that broke free when they couldnt find Remus. "we'll never find him..." he said, sitting on a rock. Thats when he heard it. Crying. "Rey?" Sirius looked around. There was no one there. "hey James? Did you bring the cloak?" James looked at Sirius. "yeah. Why do you ask?" Sirius bit his lip slightly. He knew where Remus was. "no reason " he lied, getting up. He walked between some trees that were behind the rock he had been sitting on and saw the log. "rey?" the cries stopped. Sirius sighed and sat on the log, right next to where Remus would be if he could be seen. That's when he felt him. Remus had put his head on Sirius' shoulder. Sirius could hear the cries, he could feel Remus trying to catch his breath. Thats when James came back to where Sirius and Remus were. He sat on the other side of Remus and reached out to pull the cloak off Remus. Sirius hugged Remus, the james hugged him too, waving Peter over. If there was anything Remus needed right now, it was love. And that's what the other marauders would give.

“i came out and- and my dad was angry. He threw pictures of our family across the room, broke vases, chairs, and the coffee table. He burned all photos that had me in them.....” Remus paused. It still hurt to tell the story. But now, he was safe. He was with his friends. “he- get threatened me. Called me a disgrace, disappoint, fag, so on....... My mom wasn't happy about this. She agreed with what he said but didnt like the way he was reacting by breaking things.... She cared more about a vase than her child..... ” Remus trailed off, leaving it at that. He wasn't going to say what happened next. “he hurt you didn't he” Peter said, putting a hand over his mouth. Remus nodded • • • The 4 marauders fell alseep about 5am. They were up all night talking, and ended up all in a bundle, hugging.

People say that love has to be shown in words. But Remus Lupin knows this isnt true. When Remus Lupin is around bia friends, he feels loved. Even if thy are just sitting there. He feels loved. He feels wanted. He feels cared for.

Remus grew up where love was a sore topic. Love was girl and boy. Not girl and girl or boy and boy. Remus thought gays were brave. He thought they're cool. He looked up to them. He knew he was onw of them when he met Sirius Black He knew he was in love. But he didnt tell anyone. He kept it a secret. He put on a mask. He hid who he was. And he hated it

Remus Lupin is the friend that waits for you when you tie youe shoe. Remus Lupin is rhe friend that listens when you need to talk. Remus Lupin is the one that's scared to be him. Remus lupin is the one that loves everyone

Remus Lupin is who we need more of in this world.

#Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #James Potter #peter pettigrew #Marauders #angst #lgbtq #wolfstar #self hate #love #Harry Potter

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dianapana · 5 years

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SH Month 2019 Day 1- Living together

Hey guys Dia here, after what feels like 15 years. So i know i am late with almost a week but i was away for a music festival; i am still away so i wrote this on my phone in notes so plz excuse the mistakes, but i really really wanted to try again and do all the prompts for SH month. Last year was a bit of a failure i cant even remember how mnay days i did, i think like...3(?) But this year i wanna do what i did 2 years ago and do every prompt! They will probably be late cuz im still away, as i said, for a week and than i'm home for 2 days and i leave for the seaside. August is a bit hectic for me but i still wanna give all of this a shot

Aaaaaanyway i really hope you enjoy! And most important HAPPY SASUHINA MONTH EVERYONE 💖💖💖💖💖

Hinata

“Don't you think it's a bit too soon to be living with him? I mean…you've been dating for only a month" I can hear the frustration in my best friend’s voice, and I can't blame her. I would be worried and quite mad at her if she packed all her things and moved in with a total stranger to me. Sadly Ino is far away in Italy and hasn’t been back in Japan in almost a year so there was no way for her to meet Sasuke, my new boyfriend.

“I know you're worried Ino, but what else can I do on such short notice? You know I don’t have the means to stay in an hotel until the flooding in my apartment is fixed. Sasuke offered to let me stay there and it's the mist sensible solution…”

My apartment isn’t in top condition so it shouldn’t have been such a surprise when some of the pluming failed and water started running down my walls and from the ceiling. It wasn’t all that bad the first 2 days; I was able to somehow contain the water but on the 3rd night a pipe that was above my bedroom broke and I woke up with water dripping on my face and my bed soaked. I don’t even want to think about how I should replace the mattress. Since before the flooding I’ve been considering moving to a better place but there was always something that appeared and got in the way of my search so I never got around to doing that. Maybe this is the sign I needed to move, maybe this is also the sign I needed to be certain that Sasuke is serious. With the risk of sounding cliché I’ll go ahead and say that I have never felt this comfortable in a relationship, it just feels right.

“I know that but I still think you are moving too fast. I wish I were there than we could be roomies like we were in high school and college, those were fun times…” I hear the longing in her voice. I know Ino loves being a model and Italy is amazing for her career, but there are times like this when I see how much she misses home. “Did you try to talk to Hiashi? Maybe he'll be an ok father for the first time in his life and lend you some money to move in a new place.”

I roll my eyes even though I know she can’t see me. “Really Ino? You think he will help? He literally kicked me out of his house for no apparent reason, when I was 16. Remember that? Of course you do, because I lived with your family for the last two years of high school. He did not help three years ago when I was in the darkest place of my life. He will not help this time; nor will I ask him. I am actually in a good place now. The only sucky think is the apartment but Sasuke offered a solution so that is taken care of"

I didn’t mean to go all over the list of why Hiashi sucks but it just happened, like it usually goes when his name is brought up. I hear Ino sighing on the other side and I know I won this argument. “You are right, I'm sorry. I just worry because for the past month all you do is talk about Sasuke I feel like you are jumping in the deep end of the pool and I won’t be there to help you pick up the pieces when and if he breaks your trust and heart"

I decide to not say anything about that comment. I hate it when she talks about Sasuke as being temporary. I haven’t let myself admit it yet but I am hoping he will be in my life for a long long time.

Sasuke

“This could be called slavery y'know?”

“Please Naruto, this is hardly that. All I ask is for you to take time off your very busy day of doing nothing at all, to help me move Hinata's stuff in my place. Considering all the times I came to pick up your drunk ass from places, how many weekends I spend listening to you bitch around about one of your hook-ups I think I earned this favor”

“Yea, yea, yea, whatever. I am in your debt forever . My life is yours and all that. But why, oh why, did this move have to be at 7 a.m. on Sunday?” Naruto says with a prolonged yawn. I roll my eyes for the 10th time today and considering it’s barely 7:13 I would say a long day is ahead.

“Because it may take a few hours to move everything and than she'll have to unpack and I would like to be done before mid-afternoon so we could go out and eat something and be back home at an ok hour since we both have work tomorrow. Unlike you.”

“I still can’t believe you asked her to move in with you"

“I didn’t ask her to move in"; “yes you did"; “no I did not. I offered her a place to stay while her apartment gets fixed"; “I mean we all thought you were joking when you said that you will live together” We both talk at the same time. Its frustrating that he, and apparently, all my friends think that Hinata will be moving in. I mean, I do see that happening in the future, but this is just a solution to a problem. We don’t have to make it a big deal.

Sasuke

It took us less than 2 hours to get her stuff, transport and put them in my apartment. Naruto left and Hinata is back home unpacking. I went to the mall to pick up some more things she needed and to get food as well.

I walk up the stairs and unlock the door. The moment the door opens I clench my teeth. Hinata is on the floor looking though a box, I see small changes in the apartment such as her brush on the dresser near the mirror in the hallway, her shoes in the entry way, her favorite band is singing in the background. And it hits me. We're living together, she moved in with me after only a month if dating. I feel myself freak out for a moment but she looks up at me and smiles and the weird feeling in the pit of my stomach disappears, it feels right for her to be here.

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allurefm-blog · 5 years

Text

hey ! my name is link ! i go by he / they pronouns , am 21+ & live in the cst timezone ! i’m an obnoxious aries , but i promise i’m nice for a clown . i’m excited to be here ‘cause i’m a slice of life h*e . & this here is my weirdo tommy , who i hope you’ll like a lot . under the cut , you’ll find some misc. info & wanted connections , but here’s his dossier & pinterest board , which has more information for you . feel free to like this if you’d like to plot & i’ll swing by in your ims ( or ask for discord which is honestly easier for me but it’s okay if you don’t ) !

☕ . ˚ ◝ ( kim jongin. genderfluid. he/they. ) thomas “tommy” song is a twenty-five year old gemini. the deja brew barista’s go-to order is matcha lemonade and grilled cheese. they like to listen to tempo by lizzo feat. missy elliott while they wait for their order. the employees of the deja brew think they are inconsistent but swear they’re totally versatile as well. maybe that’s why collected sketchbooks that remain empty, horror movie marathons, band tees paired with perpetually messy hair remind me of them.

misc. info : ( content warning for : emotional abuse & neglect, negative religious imagery )

they’ve always lived in the la area & don’t really see themselves leaving even if they hate it here sometimes for whatever reasons they made up in their heads

their father owns several businesses & is generally well off. he has people convinced that he’s a really good guy but in private he’s an unbearable asshole. just really nitpicky about everything & overbearing in forcing his opinions on his family

their mother was a struggling actress & the few projects she was in flopped & then she became too old by society’s standards to get work & tommy’s dad ragged on her for it, poking at her appearance / weight until she finally gave up & settled for being his assistant

not only is their dad just a dick he’s also extremely catholic which intensified his already aggressive personality. for as long as tommy can remember their dad nagged him for anything possible. they never seemed to be “enough of a man” for him which absolutely tainted the way they viewed themselves

this plays a large part into why they decided to dump the idea of being a man period. all their life they never felt comfortable with being masculine & felt like a failure any time they tried but it wasn’t until their late teens that they felt comfortable identifying as nonbinary

they also suffer from a lot of catholic guilt. their dad was that typical shitty religious guy who went on homophobic rants at random so those views affect them even now

while they consider themselves closeted & default to saying they’re straight when asked they don’t keep up with it very well. any time a pretty guy makes eye contact with them they’re gonna go for it then beat themselves up for it later

they’re a thot. they enjoy physical intimacy but don’t really believe in the idea of romantic love ( yep his dad ruined that for them too ) so they prefer to sleep around than try to get close to anyone

whatever relationships they’ve been in they probably ruined it by not being affectionate or caring enough because they never learned how to be like that with another person ( whatever feelings they and their mother shared were more out of pity than actual love )

also they might be a cheater. i haven’t fully decided if they have or not but they definitely consider it constantly when they’re dating ( if you want some kind of plot like this let’s goooo )

so basically they struggled growing up but just emotionally & mentally. they were great in school but they hated the experience & everything along with their parents caused them to become pretty anxious & introverted in their adulthood

they can & will go out but they prefer not to & they’re terrible at socializing. things can be pretty awkward with them without them meaning to. & their sense of humor is very dry so it can come off as mean ( again without meaning to )

they’re really interested in drawing & painting but they went to college for computer science & honestly it makes them pretty miserable but they’d rather suffer than deal with their dad jumping down their throat

they took a couple of years off from school to gather themselves mentally ( basically had a breakdown in the middle of a semester & their dad still drags him for it ) but are in their senior year now

they only answer to tommy. if you call them tom or thomas you’ll just get a scowl in response then ignored

basically they’re both a fake goth & art hoe. they wear black sometimes but not constantly but always refer to themselves as a goth & they buy more sketchbooks than they need ‘cause they never draw in them ( they prefer using napkins & their textbooks )

they roll up their jeans and their sleeves because they’re bisexual

dogs are some of the only things that will make them outwardly happy if you want them to lose their mind then just show them a dog or even pics / videos

they love matcha it’s their favorite flavor but they actually hate coffee despite working in a cafe. but they’re really good at making latte art & getting tips because they’re pretty & and good at flirting with customers

they’re obsessed with horror movies. they relate a lot to movie monsters for trans reasons & find them comforting even when they’re super gory. currently their favorite movie is midsommar so you can catch them going off about it a lot

they love slushies & smoothies. if it’s blended & has a lot of sugar then they fuck with it heavily. also most of the time they’re too lazy to make their own food so they use drinks a lot as meal replacements

they can’t cook worth a damn. they probably get most of their food from deja brew

they love plants a lot & keep a bunch of them at all times

they’re a hipster they love collecting vinyls & patches for their many denim jackets

they love going on drives to anywhere everywhere at random. they don’t need a destination they just wanna drive

they sleep in small four hour bursts & are pretty much always tired

they love pizza & pasta. if it’s italian they’re a stan

they’re super clumsy. probably run into things or trip five times a day

they’re secretly dramatic & gets upset when their friends / lovers don’t give them enough attention but they will never bring it up other than through playing it up

they collect band tees even for bands they don’t listen to & they don’t care if they get called out for it

wanted connections :

rooommates ( one or two )

exes ( any gender. it can be messy or friendly. i’m willing to have tommy be the issue since they can be rather uncaring & we could even do a cheating plot if you want maximum angst. also bonus points if they’re exes that are still “involved”. )

hookups / fwbs ( any gender. singular experiences or regular type things )

childhood plots for those who’ve lived in la ( childhood friends, first kisses / crushes, all that good stuff )

high school sweethearts

their first sexual experience with someone masculine. i want the awkward teen ( or early twenties whichever ) experience & it’s probably something that tommy gets ( dare i say it ? ) shy about even now

flirtationships that don’t go anywhere

maybe a regular customer that they keep flirting with & the customer thinks they actually have a thing for them but they don’t & it’s weird & awk

maybe they fuck up your drink and your muse is mad about it but they try to flirt their way out of it with either good or disastrous results

your muse is the person that has to deal with this behavior

one-sided crushes ( don’t mind who has the feelings ! )

mutual pining but they’re both idiots & have no idea

anything from this tag

party buddies. horror movie buddies. video game buddies. road trip buddies. any of these can be combined

tinder date ( it can go well or not )

literally anything you can think of i’m probably down for it

#hqbrew:intro #⟨ * o13 . ━━━ 𝑳𝑰𝑽𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑳𝒀 ╱ ooc ⟩

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bladekindeyewear · 5 years

Text

Boots Reads Homestuck Epilogue(s) Part 15 - Candy Page 34

==>

John finally decides to let the relevance of his story end, and enjoy that he’s made at least some of his other friends happy with his choice. Time to read Page 34...

VRISKA: Pfft, yeah, wh8tever. I’m basically Immortal, bitch.

Preeeetty sure you’re confusing yourself with one of your parents.

Pff, actual healthy kismesis with a Tavros? Wow, we’re getting all sorts of redemption by not-really-Vriska proxy here.

HARRY ANDERSON: he’s always getting all weepy whenever i talk to him anyway. HARRY ANDERSON: i don’t think i could have taken another round of him choking back tears while apologizing to me about “what happened with me and your mother, harry.” HARRY ANDERSON: i mean, god. he’s not even fucking DRUNK when he does this. HARRY ANDERSON: that might actually be the most embarrassing part.

.......

Okay, having grown up with a father who suffered from serious depression and would break into tears embarrassingly easily, uh. I can relate? But also fuck you, that’s inconsiderate.

--Dammit, new Vriska is catching wind of old Vriska.

Vriska and (Vriska) both start shrieking at a pitch John’s only ever heard one time before. It was a sound that once accompanied the end of everything. A sound once heard the night he dreamt in anime.

Oh that’s brilliant. If the entire Candy arc ended here it’d be great, though I know it’s not quite over yet.

==>

...Oh shit, we actually get to see what happens immediately next.

Interesting introspective thoughts! Or, trying her best NOT to be introspective and failing.

Oh my god, SHUT UP Gamzee. Vriska, just kill him already??

PFFF HE SENT A PIC OF IT TO KARKAT :D

Pfff. Yeah, Vriska, TRY and ignore what just happened and how it was almost entirely your idea.

(Vriska) is so furious, she has no way of pinpointing the exact moment her intent stopped being intimidating him into silence and started being guaranteeing his silence, forever.

Thank FUCKING goodness, PLEASE kill him.

YAY he’s dead! :D (Even though he’ll probably revive anyway because bullshit.)

Heheh. NOW we get a cross-Vriska heart to heart.

==>

Alright, a bit more John moping. Man... this Candy section is a whole lot easier to swallow AFTER Meat than I imagine it would have been before.

.....heck. EITHER of these epilogue branches are really fucking hard to swallow the first time around without the other’s context.

Oh huh, it’s his house from the Medium then? Relocated and stuff?

Jake, hm. Is Jake going to try and leave his son with John like that failed kidnapping in reverse or?

Jake snaps the elastic on his pair of red underpants. It’s the only thing he’s wearing.

Oooookay then.

JAKE: She had a certain way she liked me kipped out and well, i didnt want to bring anything that belonged to her when i left. Nothing she er, might miss. TAVROS: You took me,

Jake winces.

TAVROS: And,,, you took you,

Jake’s wince deepens.

Oh, so that’s what this is! Jake fleeing with his son from an abusive relationship. About gosh darn time. .....geez, how bad did it get for JAKE to finally muster the gumption to do that himself after all these years???

Jake is one whole wince now

I know THAT feeling. Or at least feel like I do.

John you dedicate your life to keeping this child happy

JOHN: it’s just been kind of a rough forever.

JAKE: Maybe you should blame me? JAKE: Maybe i need someone to blame me. For once. JOHN: ...huh? JAKE: I think im starting to realize that ive been going through life with the mindset that nothing has ever really been within my control.

YES.

This is how Vriska broke Tavros way back in the comic, by constantly denying him agency. Jake’s been battered down the same way too, and it’s not too late to pick up the reins. He’s already DONE that by finally leaving his genocidal wife.

There’s a bit of Page of Hope-yness to this whole disastrous Candy timeline, come to think of it? People fulfilling others’ desires out of obligation constantly, doing what they think others want? Roxy, Jake, Dave and Karkat... all fucked over at the aggressive whims of more active folk, rolling over when they really shouldn’t have? Or in Roxy’s case, her CHARACTER basically SHOULD NOT HAVE IN THE SLIGHTEST?

JAKE: Havent you ever wanted to let someone make the tough choices for you?

Huh.

Or maybe he is doing exactly what Jake has always done. In a certain light, isn’t ascribing all this mess to some unconscious influence he might have had over the metaphysical shape of reality just a way to brush off his simpler failures as a man and a father?

Yes. You can act and change this too, John. You almost did with the kidnapping before! Go and take down the new Batterwitch.

Hm, Hopey thing?

JAKE: John. JOHN: yeah? JAKE: Take my hand. JOHN: what? why?

Oh shit. Are they going to be able to FIX some of this BS with some sort of hopey thing??? :D Probably too much to hope for but still!

Being flung from Jake’s orbit of Hope and Change

Pffff. Had to throw in an Obama didn’t you.

...Oh. Oh wow. Oh we get to figure out what the fuck was up with Roxy all this time. Oh boy.

JAKE: So what if it doesnt change anything? Wont it matter to your family to see you care? JAKE: Wont it make you feel better to try?

Heheh, Hope aspecty stuff. The ability to believe that something matters even when you “know” it doesn’t.

==>

...Yeah, it’s pretty easy to relax on a dead Gamzee.

Oh cool. These Vriskas are alike enough to bond! New Vriska is still in her teenage unbalanced go-for-it stage, and old Vriska has been knocked down a peg by the clown incident, putting them on a close enough level to not want to instantly disown each other, unlike old Vriska and ghost Vriska.

VRISKA: The Mayor’s dead, dude.

HOW did the Mayor die?!?? Did I just FORGET that from the end of Homestuck or something??

(I mean, probably.)

Callback to the clouds in that first Jade dream John had.

(VRISKA): Or may8e the truth just makes me kind of nervous. VRISKA: What “Truth”? (VRISKA): Don’t tell him I said this, 8ut, I think John is just an extremely powerful 8eing. Even when he sucks. (VRISKA): And he certainly does appear to suck in this reality. (VRISKA): And yet, the uneasy feeling is there. (VRISKA): It’s a vague feeling I’ve had in the 8ack of my mind for a long time, 8ut it really hit me when I was talking to him earlier. (VRISKA): It’s distur8ing to think a8out that much power 8ottled up in one stupid nerd who’ll never understand it. VRISKA: What Power are you even talking a8out? VRISKA: Like, lame Wind Powers? (VRISKA): No, I mean... (VRISKA): The power to shape reality. Even without intending to.

FUCK did he really cause all this??? Even the Roxy shit?!??? D: D: D:

It’s being left vague but it IS sounding like John was actually RIGHT about all that stuff. FUCK, if the “villain” who messed up Roxy is actually just John’s subconscious... :C

Even if the epilogue ends right here, though, with John about to call Roxy, I can imagine it working out, though. It’s on a right enough track there.

(VRISKA): I’ve spent so long caring so much a8out what other people thought of me. Mainly that they saw me as important, or making a “difference.”

Mhmm mhmm. Light n stuff.

Yeah, realizing that importance isn’t ALL that’s “important” is really, um. Important. Ahem.

Hm, other Vriska, that smile had seven pairs of dots, not eight. :?

(VRISKA): The POINT is, I was so mad at her. (VRISKA): That happy ghost version of myself, who was free of everything. (VRISKA): I was pro8a8ly mad 8ecause she got to 8e who she really was, without stressing a8out it, which is something I never felt like I was allowed to have.

Indeed.

(VRISKA): I guess I mean there’s someone specifically I fell out of touch with, who it feels like I’ll never see again.

Too bad, only ghost Vriska got her reunite with ‘Rezi. :P

(VRISKA): On some level I knew she was right. She was happy and honest with herself. And that’s what made her... (VRISKA): A version of myself who was actually worthy of someone I cared a8out.

Yyyep. As I said. :)

VRISKA: You’re just talking a8out The Girl You 8linded that one time, aren’t you? (VRISKA): Ummmmmmmm.

Heheh. Yeah, you’re not going to hide that sort of thing from your sharp near-clone.

Oh cool! She gets to see all those messages and feel turboguilt or something.

...oh shit. Is a message going to actually get to her? It-- oh shit. Didn’t Terezi have her phone buzzing in her pocket and ignored it in the end of Meat or something? Or at SOMEONE did and I thought it conspicuous but it didn’t get addressed in that side of the story and-- FFFFuck is she eventually going to see it or??! D:

She’s GOT to have seen it before running all the way off with villain Dirk, right?? D:

==>

Okay. You seem to be thinking clearly, Roxy. What’s going through your head? Give us some answers. Don’t fuck this up too much, John.

but she knows by now that it’s not her job to make him happy. That was something she gave up on years ago. But wanting to? That feeling is still as fresh as it always was.

FUCK was this all just a placid feeling of obligation to make John happy for all he did to ensure victory or something??? D: D: D:

She’s still working through what she feels about distancing herself from Jane

Yesssss

If he’s truly about to be real with her for the first time in forever,

Gosh fucking DARNIT John, you could have fixed all this DECADES AGO if you had a real talk with her ONCE!!!!!

ROXY: the more i thought abt it the more i figured holdin on to that one thing made me lose out on some other shit ROXY: u might relate JOHN: haha, you got me there i guess.

JOHN: i’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how things got to be like they are. JOHN: i guess i’ll just come out and say it. JOHN: i completed fucked up your entire life. JOHN: i’m not going to pretend like there are two sides here. it’s my bad, totally. JOHN: like, not just what happened to our marriage, though it’s also true that that’s completely my fault. JOHN: but even before that... JOHN: i think i fucked up on just this massive, fundamental level, and it’s what i did— JOHN: or, well, what i didn’t do— JOHN: that caused every stupid bullshit thing about the way this world is.

...Huh.

That may not actually be true, and Roxy might be about to prove how self-absorbedly reductive that is.

ROXY: oh nah ill stop u rite there my man

Okay YES. If this wasn’t him, then SET HIM THE FUCK STRAIGHT. :D

She knows more than he does, and she doesn’t need to hear it.

TELL US TELL US TELL US

YES TEAR INTO HIM he’s wanted that for so long stand up for yourself and tell us what the fuck happened and why

He’s been looking at her, really looking at her, and she doesn’t want to blink, just in case that shatters it.

Yes because he was looking for the real Roxy that would call out his BS

JOHN: i used to be so angry that you wouldn’t tell me what you really thought, before. JOHN: not like i wanted to FIGHT fight, but like. JOHN: i’m just not used to this flavor of roxy. ROXY: hm ROXY: sounds to me like u just disproved ur own hotshot theory then genius JOHN: huh? ROXY: you wished i was one way the whole time we were married ROXY: but i wasnt

YES!!! Yes his theory’s disproven! He never WANTED Roxy to just act that way, he wasn’t the cause of this, I was hoping for that! :D

ROXY: i was bad at standin up for myself then and im learnin to be good at it now

That’s....... sad, if that’s the explanation. But it’s better than mind control I guess. :(

JOHN: but... JOHN: you were never like that before i... ROXY: dude ROXY: where tf do u get off trying to decide what is or isnt me being “like me” enuff ROXY: do u think ppl stay the same their whole damn lives or what

Oh wow. Now Andrew’s slamming SLAMMING of fanfics. He’s saying “who are you to know for SURE that they wouldn’t act that way”?? That’s pretty good.

ROXY: i like the way things turned out just fuckin fine ROXY: so maybe u could stop wastin precious eternity thinkin ur so special that its ur fault everyones not perfectly happy

:’)

Mhmm, and they’re free from the heroic design arcs or what have you. Or... were, until Dirk tore them back in again. Tossed aside their fucking victory with his selfish... ugh.

Mhmm, Roxy’s the perfect person to explain that not being in a canon, Light-filled timeline isn’t really a bad thing.

ROXY: i just do things the best way i think to do em and then shrug n hope it works out?

Roxy thinks about time and the spirals of choice that hang just outside her periphery, and the vertigo grows.

Good advice, and hm. Maybe there’s some Void sight kind of playing into this as well, making it easy for her to get paralyzed by indecision and she’s had to learn to work through it.

...Ooh, that was a really cool non-binary gender diatribe in the narrative text. That’s some nice stuff. I felt like that was missing from the Meat side, glad we got it here at least. :D

JOHN: there’s literally nothing to do but keep moving forward. JOHN: i may as well not be a big fucking downer about it if i don’t have to be.

Thank goodness.

YES, JOHN SHOWING HIMSELF STRAIGHT-BACKED FOR HIS SON!!! :D

Man, I wish my dad had done that instead of all the other shit he did. At least he’s dead. :)

(Here’s a hint in case you’re wondering why I was relieved when my Dad offed himself.)

But that’s off topic. Let’s wrap up this epilogue already!!

==>

Page 39... only three or so pages left, right?

Pff, Karkat’s keeping them safe.

Heheh, more shitty Liberty statues.

Heheh, using them for weapons caches.

Gosh I hope they actually love each other and are mostly happy. Jade seems happy, at least. :(

Dammit, there go the doubts. He wouldn’t have had those doubts with Karkat. :C

He’s standing in the Oval Office of the White House.

Oh heck yes. Please tell me...

And over there... is something he doesn’t quite recognize. It doesn’t seem to fit in. He steps closer to investigate, wiping away at the layers of moss and dirt to reveal a surface he most certainly does recognize. It’s a transportalizer.

YES

Dave doesn’t waste any time. You don’t find something like this in the Oval Office and start agonizing over whether or not to use it. He steps on the platform, and in a blink his surroundings are completely different. The centuries of overgrowth are gone, and he appears to be in some sort of crypt, boxed in by walls of smooth, golden stone. At the far side of the room, something is hanging on the wall, encased in a sort of display. It’s a mounted god tier costume, about the size an adult male would wear. He recognizes the symbol. It’s the same one Jake used to wear when they were teens. It is the symbol for Hope.

HELL FUCKING YES

YES OBAMA

OBAMA: Hello, Mr. Strider. OBAMA: I’ve been waiting a long time for you to show up.

Dave’s jaw hangs open. The legends have been confirmed. As well as several key headcanons of his. Without thinking, he drops to one knee and bows his head.

DAVE: m... mr president DAVE: its an honor sir

Man, forget my past stomach clenching. Forget my hesitations, my turbulent emotions, all the ups and downs the various facets of these Epilogue chapters have given me. THIS is the best. THIS makes it all worth it. This is the best thing to have ever happened, and if I ever feel any regrets about ANYTHING that transpired in the Epilogues, I’ll feel infinitely better the moment I remember it gave us THIS.

The most beautiful scene I’ve ever witnessed. All my liberal, economy-ranting hopes and dreams confirmed. It’s glorious.

OBAMA: Come on now, Dave. We can’t be having that. OBAMA: I’m nobody’s king. I’m a democratically elected representative who took an oath to serve his country and his people. People like you, Dave. OBAMA: If anything, I should be the one bowing.

OBAMA. I MISSED YOU OBAMA. I CAN HEAR YOUR VOICE THROUGH YOUR TEXT AND ITS SO COMFORTING AND UPLIFTING

DAVE: mr president what i mean is im a huge fan of yours and i hope this doesnt sound fucked up but on some level i feel like ive been waiting my whole life for this moment?? OBAMA: I know, Dave.

Yes, yes you have. Yes, we can.

OBAMA: Most people thought I was gone. But I was keeping an eye on events. OBAMA: Wouldn’t miss it for anything.

I, too, would like to have the feeling that Obama is still out there, keeping an eye on things. Watching, smiling... providing some last background of Hope as things seem so temporarily sour. That feeling would be amazing.

...I mean he’s still alive IRL, sure, but not Obama watermark smiling lovingly from the sky or anything like it should be.

Yes, back to reading. Back to this glorious, definitely canon moment. The moment we learned that Obama was with us the whole time. :’)

DAVE: sorry if this is nosy but if you didnt die when you disappeared then how did you die OBAMA: Most of that is classified, Dave.

Pfffffff :D

OBAMA: When I was a boy living in Hawaii, on my thirteenth birthday I was visited by a mysterious stranger. OBAMA: He was an older man with a mustache. Kind of a corny, old-fashioned, adventuring type. He tried to convince me we were related. Of course, I thought he was full of shit. OBAMA: To this day, I’m not sure about that. Maybe he was. I didn’t think much of his tall tale at the time, but what did pique my interest was his story. OBAMA: He was voyaging all over the Pacific looking for a mysterious island, which supposedly had all the answers he’d spent his whole life searching for. OBAMA: During his travels, he set up outposts all over the ocean to help with his search. Such as one near where I lived as a boy. The outpost had a laboratory, an archeological dig site, a network of underground tunnels, the works. OBAMA: One time, I snuck in there and did some exploration of my own. Somewhere in the maze of underground ruins, I found a transporter pad, just like the one that brought you here. OBAMA: It sent me to a new realm. A place they called the Medium.

Grandpa Jake of Earth A, thank you SO much for bringing us this gift. The gift of Obama.

OBAMA: Hey, why don’t we take a walk. You’ll have a chance to collect yourself. And there’s something I’d like you to see.

:O :O :O

I am shivering with anticipation.

Ah, leave it to Obama to help Dave with the final steps of his character arc.

OBAMA: Are you sure that’s all he is, Dave?

FIX THINGS OBAMA!!!! :D :D :D

Wait, what if Obama can turn things into an actually legitimate DaveKatJade? That would be a miracle only a god of Hope could pull off.

OBAMA: I’ve had my share of doubts about all that, just like any other man. OBAMA: And I’ve had plenty of the same kind of struggles as you, Dave. DAVE: wait DAVE: you...

Obama nods, smiles wistfully. Dave arches his eyebrows high above his shades. They stare at each other, and in the look they exchange, they seem to say all that needs to be said between two grown men on the matter.

:’)

OBAMA: Believing is the key to understanding the truth underlying the words, the truth underlying the ideas they represent, and the truth underlying who we are as individuals. OBAMA: The power of belief, the power of Hope, that’s what endows that which is intangible, ephemeral, or uncertain with a sense of reality. OBAMA: It brings focus to the insubstantial, the mirages of the mind, the multiplicity of what is possible, of what could be, and isolates it—concentrates it—to turn it into that which is. OBAMA: And the result of that, Dave, is what we call truth.

I didn’t think we’d be learning more about the Hope aspect straight from the mouth of Barack Obama.

OBAMA: He taught me about many things. Combat, philosophy, life, love... DAVE: love??? DAVE: hold on are you saying DAVE: that...

PFFFFFFFF :D :D :D

OBAMA: She’s settled happily into the specific. That’s her path now. OBAMA: All of you have embraced that life, in this safely sequestered version of planet Earth. OBAMA: All of you until now, Dave. OBAMA: This is why you’re here. OBAMA: I believe you’re ready to wake up. DAVE: ...

...this is suddenly possibly going to be getting slightly sad isn’t it. D:

--Oh shit, so THIS is where Davebot came from.

How is he going to break things off with Jade though??? D: D: D:

...Oh my GOSH he’s just going to suddenly vanish and abandon her isn’t he. D:

...alright, merging with his other selves, et cetera...

It defers to its greatest knight, risen anew.

Yeah that’s nice but am I supposed to pretend you’re going to say goodbye to Jade offscreen or

--ah that’s why the bot didn’t have shades, gotta use the genuine Stiller ones

==>

Page 40, and the start of this sounds a lot like the Postscript. But we’re getting more this time, thank god.

ARADIA: when i watched as everything broke apart ARADIA: and got swallowed up by the black hole ARADIA: which is where i ended up too ARADIA: that black hole... ARADIA: thats basically you right JADE: yes. ARADIA: and when you speak of your brother ARADIA: thats lord english JADE: yes. ARADIA: and hes dead JADE: not just yet.

Oh shit. John’s final blow didn’t kill Lord English did it. Alt!Callie is going to strike the very last killing blow herself isn’t she.

JADE: lesser beings have so much trouble perceiving divinity in the uncanny.

Divinity? Like, Lollipop-style divinity? I mean, I guess this IS the Candy branch...? But what made this so “perfect” to begin with?

JADE: this world, unlike the canonical horrors from which it is hermetically insulated, will always fail to meet the combined criteria for truth, relevance, and essentiality that would endow this realm with any real gravity. JADE: its own naturally occurring supply of gravity, rather than the artificial supply i have given it. JADE: as such, what transpires here is characterized by experiential frivolity. JADE: physically, it is cordoned off by the black hole’s event horizon. it is safe. untouchable. JADE: inescapable. ARADIA: that sounds ominous

Oh. So this outside-of-canon timeline-verse whatever that Candy takes place in is like a trap? For Lord English to be trapped in forever, inside not just his OWN story like we thought before but into a place where he’ll be forever irrelevant, while, like... the “Prince” and others following him for pursuit or camaraderie reasons manage to escape somewhere even different? --No wait those people are OUTSIDE this place, in the “real” timeline/universe of Earth C. So Dirk’s destination is somewhere completely different; oh, and alt!Callie is the only one with the power to escape the black hole, to bring Davebot and Aradia with her back to quote-unquote “canon” or the closest thing to it to bring bastard Dirkbro down.

Or... something.

JADE: one could describe it as a phantasmal projection confined within my horizon. JADE: it was created by a choice that made it possible for that horizon to expand infinitely, to consume infinitely. JADE: and since that choice could not coexist with canon events, this place manifested to here to support its consequences. JADE: if this world were capable of anything either essential, relevant, or true in some stable combination, then it would perpetuate a corrosive paradox. JADE: as such, insulation from what is out there, and the inescapable well it rests in, is what protects all it holds inside. JADE: and since i am the embodiment of the black hole in which it rests, JADE: i am the one protecting this world.

Oh huh. So when we saw alt!Callie creating the black hole out of the Sun, she was actually using John’s “choice” and his timeline split to engineer the paradox that drove that singularity’s expansion? And so she’s going to be the lord and safeguard of all that is Non-Canon, and also seek to guide the heroes trying to save what IS Canon?

Hm!

JADE: physical destruction is one thing. JADE: obliteration of the entire canvas for all of reality over a given cosmic span is another. JADE: and yet there are even more insidious forms of destruction and subversion of life to consider. JADE: methods that are difficult to grasp for those on your plane.

Yep, destroying Heart. Destroying Soul. Destroying the uniqueness that drives individual agency and choices, and suborning people completely to your will and ideals without their consent or choice.

Hmm....

JADE: but longer stories have the power to draw consciousness into them. they possess arresting and hypnotic qualities which can be used by their tellers to alter the awareness of the listener.

Yep, like a biased narrator with their claws on the > prompt for characters.

JADE: i brought to your attention that the story you were listening to had a speaker with a specific identity. JADE: and where there is an identity, there can also be an agenda.

Yep yep. And by commandeering the story to his own agenda, Dirk’s been robbing everyone of a fundamental right to their own existences.

JADE: this is the sort of corruption i now must dedicate my existence in this new body to ending once and for all.

Heck Yes; returning the narrative to as objective a speakerless-ness as can be attained or simulated, and divesting the bias from agenda’d narrators that can wrest all control from the participants in a story, enslaving them and making them the author’s puppets instead of true to themselves as characters, people, etc.

--Oh my GOSH, was Dead!Jade eating the remains of Lord English at the end of that Postscript??? She was, wasn’t she? :D :D :D

That’s pretty fucking awesome. And a pretty fucking fair fate for him to get cannibalized by his sister.

JADE: consume his body. JADE: absorb his essence. JADE: and then using this host, i will generate enough power to move beyond the staggering pull of the event horizon encasing this world. JADE: a prison of my own making, which can be escaped only through the supreme unification with my other half. JADE: it is crucial to the cosmos that i succeed. JADE: the prince of heart has to be stopped.

:D :D :D :D :D

Pretty awesome! A decent setup to a story that probably shouldn’t be told, the implied sequel that Meat invites up or whatever. And... oh phew.

Oh PHEW.

OH FUCKING PHEW. HOLD ON.

So. The very last line of the epilogue, the last bit:

The hole leaves behind an absence in the sky so calm that continuing to call it a sky wouldn’t seem to do it justice. It’s a perfectly neutral expanse into which anything one can imagine might be summoned. And for a while, anything was. But not anymore. Where the hole gaped just moments ago, there now exists an imaginary line.

Above this line resides all that matters. Below exists all else. Never again the twain shall meet.

Okay! :D :D :D

So, when I read that last line, I was INCREDIBLY disheartened. I thought that Andrew was declaring that canon would never interfere with anything again, that this was the FINAL WORD on Homestuck and everything to do with it as far as canon was concerned, and that Dirk’s crimes and such would forever go unresolved and left to the imagination.

But that’s not what the line meant.

What’s INSIDE the singularity, and thus “under” the imaginary line, is everything non-canon, all the possibility and fanfiction and dead ghosts and such who are trapped in this safeguarded realm alt!Callie created to protect them, away from the influence of any future plot danger beyond the mundane issues they create for themselves.

And what’s OUTSIDE the singularity, above the line, is canon. A canon which actually continues, and which this line doesn’t necessarily cut short.

I don’t know if Andrew will ever continue this nonsense, maybe to show me a Rose who’s actually happy as a robot or something? But... er, that’s not the point. The point is that even though the story “isn’t over”, it’s left so it CAN continue, so that the final state of these ISN’T a permanent cliffhanger to be left forever unfulfilled intentionally. I’ll still be traumatized by the state some of these characters are left in, until Andrew maybe possibly chooses to resolve some of this nonsense with later content, which he probably won’t. Heck, this actually might be easier for him to create a new work with, given how much baggage has been left behind on old Earth and in the singularity, so all you have is a much relatively smaller cast of characters on a chase to wherever Dirk is planning to go? But, like. When I read that Postscript, I stopped believing anyone I saw suggesting we’d get anything after this. Any sort of work of... you know... continuing, er, Homestuckiness from Andrew, no matter what it was. But even just... leaving it open even if he isn’t going to DO anything about it, and having that final line NOT be an aggressive cutoff? Is just nice. Nicer, anyway.

And this singularity is kept safe for us to enjoy ALL of the old stuff, the multitude of possibility that the in-singularity version of Roxy glimpses out of the side of her eye. That--

Oh my Gosh. THAT’S also what the final line means.

Above this line resides all that matters. Below exists all else. Never again the twain shall meet.

Homestuck fanfiction is now COMPLETELY FREE FROM CANON.

Within this singularity, nothing has to stay true to absolutely every underpinning of the earlier comic. Nothing has to make sense. Nothing has to be narratively consistent with anything else, though it’s obviously more enjoyable if it is. Truth, essentiality, and relevance may all be FLEXED as much as any individual fanfic writer needs to! And... and earlier, before this epilogue. When we would get Snapchat stuff of the story on Earth C. And even before that when all we had was the ending flash. There was still a FEAR on many parts that there was more to canon that Andrew wasn’t telling us, that whatever was in our imaginations about what may have happened was “wrong”, that any fanfic you wrote was liable to be disproven formally. But that’s not the case anymore. Because with that line, with alt!Callie sealing off this realm and taking just a last few soon-to-be canon-impactors out of one of its timelines, Andrew has left ALL of the earlier trappings of Homestuck, of Earth, of all these characters and ghosts and fragmented possibilities, permanently free from canon influence from the rest of time. Meaning no Homestuck fanfic that takes place in this singularity-granted realm may EVER be busted by Andrew’s future work. He’s done what he first aspired to do when he declared all fantrolls in existence canon. He’s finally “killed the author”. He’s made the very FACT of an author an enemy, to be pursued in its own canon story outside of all this. He’s set EVERYTHING free.

Wow. So that’s what all the point of all this was, huh? :D

Let me read the last few pages of Candy anyway. Where was I again?

Oh, about to click the last page. ==>

Oh my GOD. This Postscript is about the end of MEAT, where the Meat Postscript showed us the end of CANDY!!! :D

Let’s hear where this shit is all going! I’ve been wondering what realm Dirk is actually heading towards to try and start fucking up. Reading...

...Oh, okay. I thought I glimpsed someone mentioning something about Rose “doing Dirk’s laundry”, and I thought I just missed some narrative comment on laundry made when Dirk took Rose out of the apartment on that final trip out to Jake’s for a spaceship? But I guess this was the scene they were talking about. Fuck you, Dirk.

One of her more reckless shipmates chipped a tooth trying one, despite repeated warnings to stay away from the stuff.

So Terezi IS there? And probably received that final message from Vriska to think about.

It’s a stray ruby slipper. The other is about ten feet away, down the hall. No sign of their owner anywhere.

Yep, that’s definitely Terezi.

...Oh cool, Rose’s body isn’t quite dead? She could be returned to it or a souped-up version of it if she’s ever brought to her senses outside Dirk’s corrosive influence.

A new planet is within sensor range. She studies the millions of statistics all pouring in at once.

They’re heading for a planet? Somewhere else in Universe C?

It’s an M-Class planet. The right size, right age, right distance from the sun. There’s no advanced life yet. It’s exactly what they’ve been looking for all these years.

Shit, a NEW planet? For all this shit to go down on? Maybe I don’t need to see what happens next, that sounds potentially a little boring. The future adventure this story entails COULD just be implied and never followed up on.

Once the new race has established

What race??? Human, hybrid?? It’s not TROLL, y’all would have brought Aradia if that was the case, right? Or is this why there are tons of trolls in Universe C that Caliborn and Calliope’s parent trolls got to incinerate ages later, seeded across planets by these assholes?

The ones who get the chance to play what will arguably be the most important session in the history of Sburb?

Ahhh. Okay. So this may INDEED be something interesting, something worth seeing. A new session, one where Dirk is the villain, Rosebot is enthralled, and old heroes are on their way to help see him thwarted. Along with the mystery participants of a session we’ve yet to see.

Enough time goes by that she begins to wonder if he’s asleep. But no. It’s just the irritated silence of a man who knows he isn’t currently dressed well enough to attend to something important.

DIRK: Are my fucking pantaloons ready yet?

Yeah, fuck you and your anime pantaloons straight in the Yaois, Dirk Smartass.

Okay!

So that’s the end of the epilogue. BOTH epilogues. And... I like it.

I don’t know why. I mean it was all excellent before, and my stomach’s still a BIT clenchy, but I like it now. I misinterpreted things from the Meat ending, and now everything... everything makes a little more sense. Some things seem resolved, others earned...

And... in a way I feel like I could actually oddly accept, even if there’s never anything that touches on this ever again...

It doesn’t seem “over”. :)

#Homestuck #Homestuck Epilogue #Upd8 #Homestuck Liveblog #bladekindeyewear #BlastYoBoots #Barack Obama

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gwiiyeoweo · 5 years

Link

Prompto Besithia takes after his father.

Noctis Caelum takes what he can.

Pairing: Prompto/Noctis Rating: M for theme Warning: TWs for abuse, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, unhealthy co-dependency

“Gonna run some more tests tonight.”

“Be prudent and don’t waste your only sample.”

Prompto Besithia grins around his spoon, a beguiling smile that hides sharp teeth and a wicked tongue. His eyes though, crinkle in genuine amusement, despite the artificial flavor that clings to the lab-grown meat and grains. They haven’t quite perfected it, certain chemicals and aftertastes still lingering despite their progress, but no one has complained. Not when the Besithias had single-handedly averted a famine and nationwide crisis, had even been awarded such sigh honors by the Emperor himself. Iedolas is something of a cuckoo — hell, even more bonkers than Prompto’s dad — but everyone seems to play into the whole “all hail the great emperor” and “long live Niflheim” and whatever patriotic mess Caligo spouts out every other sentence. Everyone but the two mad scientists keeping them alive, naturally.

“C’mon, have a little more faith,” Prompto nearly whines, mouth full of half-eaten mush. It’s not that bad, honestly; it nearly tastes like the real thing, but he can still get the hints of trace metals and ammonia. Some illogical part of him said it’s the whole psychological thing messing with his taste buds, because he knows he’s artificial himself so it almost feels like cannibalism, considering he's the result of a scientific marriage between splicing genes and bacterial cultures, the DNA coming from none other than Verstael Besithia himself. A clone — one of many — rather than a son, sprouted in a test tube and harvested from a glass chamber as a toddler. “I’ve done well so far, haven’t I?”

But through some mutation, through evolution, he came out on top, proved he wasn’t destined to be a brainless MT ready to have an aimbot program downloaded into his brain. He was sentient and, to Verstael’s utter delight, had a savage thirst for knowledge and discovery just like his father. So now, rather than some expendable hunk of twisted metal ready to be turned into frazzled wires and aluminum scraps, he sits at the dinner table and talks lab tests and future projects, a leading figure in Niflheim’s rapidly advancing technology, along with father Verstael. And if they actually share some genuine father-son sentiments here and there, that’s a plus.

“A reminder to keep it like that, then.” Verstael sits across from him, cutting into an unassuming steak drenched in a thin brown sauce. He looks up, hands stilling for a moment, to level a look of disapproval at Prompto. Not for any particular failures or mishaps in the lab but for his son’s lack of table manners.

Prompto acknowledges it by shutting his mouth and gulping his food down, staring right back and licking the grin on his lips. It’s jarring, really, how similar they look. Verstael is graying a bit, with lines set around his mouth and crow’s feet spreading from his eyes, but they’re nearly identical. It’s a given, considering he’s a literal clone, but he wonders just how much of his DNA mutated; there are small differences, little bits he’s still trying to search and find, like how his freckles are just a bit darker and spread out or how his eyes have just a touch more purple in them. (Or how Prompto’s voice is more of a tenor than his father’s baritone, he once lamented.) The common folk just think how wonderful it is for the son to be the spitting image of his father, and Prompto really can’t help but laugh whenever he hears them say it.

They couldn’t be more further from nor closer to the truth.

As they peruse over data and statistics, Prompto chiming in to ask how Verstael’s latest batch of upgraded magitek soldiers were doing, he foregoes the rest of his dinner and pushes it away, picking up a new clean plate to gather the various desserts onto. If his father rolls his eyes at that, he doesn’t acknowledge it in favor of piling his plate high with a few mini pies and cream puffs, the sugar overload enough to mask whatever artificial flavoring they have yet managed to fix.

“Y’know, I could say the same thing to you too, daddy-o.” Prompto waves a half-bitten cupcake in the air, ignoring the white mustache frosting he’s acquired. “You and that Adagium guy.”

He says it amicably enough, keeps his tone light and cheery, but there’s a definite challenge hidden in his words. A dare, or a threat. As if to say, ‘Look who’s talking. Stay out of my business, and I’ll stay out of yours.’

Verstael narrows his eyes, the only visible sign of offense he’s taken — or maybe that’s pride at such audacity, since Prompto, as much of a genius he is, still has trouble figuring his father out sometimes. Both, maybe. "Yes, well," he says, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin, "I've no need to fear my specimen of dying, unlike yours who — might I remind you — is very mortal.”

"Touché,” Prompto concedes, licking off the cupcake frosting from his fingers. He lifts his dessert plate into the air, giving it a lazy slow wave at his father, and pushes his chair back to stand. "But like you said, he's mortal. So time to go feed him before he starves to death."

"You spoil him."

"But it's working, isn't it?" His eyes glint with something cunning and dangerous. "Treat 'im nice enough and he'll never want to leave."

"Conditioned him like a goldfish, then? Have him swimming to you at just the sight of food?"

"Nah, pops.” Prompto laughs, filled with mirth, as he exits the dining room. “At the sight of me. "

He walks on glass, reinforced and strengthened to hold up against all the weight of machinery, equipment, and a small horde of visiting scientists coupled with bodyguard MTs. The old lab has long been repurposed to serve as an aquarium and observation room, the entire floor pulled apart and dug into the level below, to make a livable space for his most prized experiment. He stops at an edge, where the glass tapers off to saltwater, and he leans over to skim a finger across the surface.

Below, he sees movement behind the few tank decorations he's allowed in — a few shells and plants, a low archway salvaged from some bleached dead coral, and an extra-large air stone in the corner. For such a large aquarium, that spans the entire length of the laboratory, it’s barren; no tankmates to keep company except for the single crab skittering about the sand, which goes darting off once a large dark fin nearly topples it over.

Prompto sees the tail first, a midnight blue so deep it’s almost black, with lighter scar tissue ribbed across the scales, marring the once sleek skin with raised bumps and cuts. Wounds too precise and surgical to be accidental injuries. Then, the same dark hair that frames a pale face, some locks keeping close, while others free flow like a bastardized crown around him. Eyes peer up at him, blinking owlishly, followed by a quiet smile. When the creature swims up to meet him at the surface, hands gently holding onto the edge of the glass for purchase, Prompto smiles back. The sight warms his cold, half-mechanical heart.

"I brought you snacks, Noct.” He sits on his haunches and hands over a mini fruit tart.

Noctis takes it gratefully with both hands and takes a tentative sample, unsure of the flavors hidden within all the sugary glaze and cream. But the first bite proves passable at least, and he eats the rest without reserve, even licking the crumbs off his too sharp nails.

Prompto catches the whites of his fangs, of all his fangs — two rows of pearly teeth chiseled into razors, that could cut flesh off bones like a molten knife through butter. Noctis would probably like meat sometime soon. Proper meat, not the lab-grown things. He wonders if anyone’s been on the Emperor’s shitlist lately, and if His Excellency would like them to quietly disappear in an unfortunate lab accident. If not, he’s sure there’s some old Galahdian rebels rotting away in their cells.

He handfeeds the last dessert to Noctis, the dear thing making sure none of his teeth even scrape the skin of Prompto’s hand. He brushes the backs of his fingers against Noctis’ cheek, and if the boy could purr, he certainly would, especially with how he chases for Prompto’s touch. The water’s kept at a consistent five degrees Celsius, too cold for any man but just right for the mer, who insisted it was always too hot until Prompto figured out the sweet spot; yet still, Noctis chases after that physical warmth. A little touch-starved, according to Prompto’s theory, considering there’s not much to be offered to one confined in a lonesome underground aquarium. Also, a theory he believes to be fact, and one he’s been taking full advantage of.

When Prompto stands and heads toward the cabinets and drawers adorning the sterile white walls, Noctis heaves himself up from the water in one effortless motion and sits at the edge, leaving most of his tail to wade in the tank. Prompto glances back to see him wait patiently, though he notices his claws clicking rhythmically against the glass — a nervous tick. Noctis looks below, eyes probably following the single crab walking across the sand or perhaps watching the plants waving to and fro, but Prompto doesn’t need to see his face to know.

Noctis never likes this part, but he gives himself up willingly. Whatever Prompto asks of him, be it a drop of blood or a pound of flesh, his darling thing offers it. He remembers when he first introduced the idea, painting his plan with a white coat of innocence, and asked the young boy if he’d be willing to let Prompto “help” him. But Noctis is no fool; he knows the ulterior motives the young scientist had at the time, and still has, though neither has ever spoken anything directly of it. It’s a part of the game they play, these rounds of make-believe they both fool themselves into: Prompto an adoring childhood friend, Noctis a scarred castaway looking for comfort. He gives, Prompto takes. An unfair trade, perhaps, but at least he’s not entirely heartless and offers rewards where they’re due.

Prompto does, after all — despite his skewed moral compass and enthusiasm to experiment on his own friend — hold a certain genuine affection for Noctis, as twisted as it may be.

"This'll be quick today, promise," Prompto half lies. He doesn't know how long it'll actually take; maybe he'll see something interesting and take more samples, maybe he'll be satisfied with the findings and need no more for the night. What he does know, however, is that Noctis will suffer through each ticking second of it all, with no more than a mild squirm or a quiet wince. He places all his things on a spotless surgical tray — new scalpels, some vials and syringes, tissue forceps, eye needles for the sutures — and brings it with him to Noctis.

This time, Prompto comes up next to him, ignoring the wet spots that drip from Noctis and onto the glass, and sits to his side. He doesn't care for how the water soaks through the back of his pants; it comes with the territory anyhow, and he settles the steel tray in between them to take off his shoes and socks before dipping his feet into the cold water beneath. Goosebumps crawl up his skin, not only from the near-freezing temperature but also from the slick tail that brushes against his ankle. Noctis holds power underneath those muscles and a definite swiftness in his limbs. He could wrap his tail around that ankle and drag him to drown in the very tank he had built, but Prompto holds every confidence that he won’t.

He tears open an iodine packet, and Noctis tenses in a conditioned response, knowing and expecting what’s to come. He doesn’t run, doesn’t move until Prompto tells him what he wants though.

“Hmmm.” Prompto clicks the plastic and cracks the iodine scrub, releasing the antiseptic throughout the swab, and hovers it over Noctis’ forearm where the pectoral fins meet human skin. “What are we gonna check out first?”

He’s quick to change his mind, though, and moves to the hip, where tender flesh blends seamlessly into dull scales. Prompto’s been wanting to do a cross-section of the cells there, to see just where the human half ends and the Hydraean DNA splices itself in, and add it to his little box of prepared specimens.

“Be good, like always?” Prompto offers a cold smile, and scrubs the area in a circular motion. The orange-brown antiseptic bleeds in between the cracks of the scales, and he suspects the red will follow their paths soon enough.

Noctis nods, once and slowly, and he stares at Prompto, keeping his eyes away from the scalpels and tweezers on the tray. “I will.”

There’s that odd look again, that indiscernible secret hidden in that stormy gaze of his. Prompto hasn’t figured it out yet, what it means, and Noctis has yet to make any motion to speak of it. It’s certainly not fear or anger, nor is it loathing or hatred. He once wondered if it was love, but Noctis has never held his affection in secret; he gives it like he’s running a charity, yet desires it like a beggar across the street. There's something… Calculating and determined from what Prompto can figure out, but the rest is shut tight behind those cold blue eyes of his.

'Maybe,' he thinks, as he stares right back at Noctis, 'if I can dissect those pretty little eyes, I can figure it out.'

It would be easy. He knows Noctis would give up his sight just to keep Prompto by his side. And the idea of that, all so suddenly, strikes him as funny. Because really, Prompto is the one keeping him, not the other way around. Noctis is the one tethered here, trapped inside a freezing tank with no one but Prompto to call his only company and the only reason he's still alive and not beheaded because Iedolas had deemed the crippled Prince as useless.

Thirty seconds are up, and he flicks the iodine scrub across the room, where it lands cleanly inside a biohazard bin.

"Lie down." He gently pushes one hand on Noctis' shoulder, and the boy obeys readily, pressing his back against the cold glass beneath them. He even slides himself out of the water a bit more, to offer Prompto more of his own body to poke and prod and cut, despite knowing and hating the pain of knives and needles.

Noctis is a darling thing, and Prompto loves him all the more for it. He picks up a scalpel, light glinting off the cold steel, and he leans over to comfort Noctis' trembling with a kiss to his collarbone, where the pale skin stretches itself thin and taut. He holds the blade just above the hip, the edge barely touching skin and scales.

"Love you, Noct."

He cuts away with surgical precision, all while Noctis bites into the back of his fist and silences his cries.

He's seven and cold and scared and a pile of broken bones drowning in his own blood, when steel-faced soldiers gather him from under a corpse and haul him away to Niflheim.

It's an uphill battle, and his consciousness stumbles and slips, and all he wants is for them to let him sleep. Even if his father isn't here, Noctis can at least find comfort in his dreams and in the safety net of Carbuncle's domain. But they don't let him. They hook him up to wires and noisy machines that beep at him incessantly. At some points, all he knows is a dark warm void, when the beeping stops and goes into a straight high-pitched drone, but he's always stolen from his comforting cocoon by a bolt of electricity that fires up his nerves and has his muscles spasming.

If there's pain, he's not really aware of it.

Until he finally wakes up from his coma, and he's a screaming mess until someone dressed in white sticks a needle into him, missing his thin veins twice before finally hitting it home.

The next time he wakes, he's awfully numb, and turning his neck feels like turning the rusted cogs of a broken machine. He sees a boy, who looks the exact opposite of him, with his blonde hair and little freckles and violet-blue eyes. They stare at each other in silence, the blonde boy never even blinking, and the expressionless face makes him think the he must be a realistic doll rather than a human being.

But then he talks. And if Noctis wasn't paralyzed — it's weird and uncomfortable, he thinks, that he can't feel anything in his legs, but the haze of his mind keeps him from going any further than that — he’d probably jump out of his own skin at the sound.

“Good morning. I’m Prompto Besithia.”

Those few short words sound like the beginnings of a voicemail. It’s too telegraphed, sounds too rehearsed, but Noctis latches onto them like the desperate child that he is. Mechanical doll or not, he's the only one to actually talk to him or offer anything close to human contact, and Noctis is alone and scared of his own shadow.

So Prompto becomes the only constant in his life, well, aside from the suffering under Niflheim’s emperor.

Noctis wasn’t rescued because Aldercapt had a kind heart and was seeking to make amends with Lucis, unlike the fairytale endings his father used to read to him. (He cries over the bittersweet memories until he runs out of grief to feel.) He learns too quickly the ulterior motives the mad king has, that it was all his doing Noctis had almost died that day and why his governess and a crew of Crownsguard were all murdered by a daemon’s hand.

Because if Aldercapt couldn’t get his hands on the Crystal or the King guarding it, the Prince was his next best bet.

Noctis can do nothing but play the exalted guinea pig for them. He’s small, defenseless, and crippled, and a seven-year-old boy can only do so much thrashing before those hands and vice grips hold him and strap him down onto the steel table, or sedate him with a merciless syringe and plop him into some machine and dig wires into his flesh.

He can’t understand the jargon the scientists speak, but he understands the gist of things. If Regis holds a direct tether to the Crystal, then his son should hold some sort of power over it as well, and that tie may be just what Aldercapt needs to get his hands on the Lucian treasure.

Thus.

He’s seven when his world is ripped away from him, his father a distant memory of a life now gone, when he sees his little crown bathe in the blood of his friends and guards and melt in the flames of the Marilith. When his hand-tailored clothes are replaced with rough open-backed gowns on the best of days, and when he’s left to shiver in the cold in nothing but his own skin on the worst of days.

He’s ten when he gives up hope that his father will come and rescue him, shining in a halo of power and surrounded by dozens of ancient weapons.

He’s eleven when he gives up entirely, and he cries only so he can feel something other than the needles and shocks of their electric prongs.

He’s fifteen when they give up. And Noctis foolishly thinks this is it, that he’s going to die now because they’ve found no use of him, and he thinks it's a blessing to finally be free of them. He doesn’t have the tie to the Crystal their emperor went mad for, and Aldercapt's patience has only grown thin with each passing year his researchers have no results to show for, lopping off one head for every month there's nothing. Noctis lost count after the twentieth-something rolled across the tile floor in a trail of blood, lips slightly parted and still glistening eyes staring right at him.

Through the near eight years spent in this freezing hellhole, Noctis has the small comfort that was Prompto Besithia, an outlier in the older Besithia's cloning labs, Noctis had learned. Prompto had no issues detailing his life's story, proudly explaining his origins as a single cell living with a Scourge sample in his neighborhood petri plate to moving into a giant test tube and busting out of it as a toddler. Half-human, half-machine, he once said of himself, pointing at his head and mentioning a computer processor in there.

But out of every damn sadist who Noctis had the displeasure of meeting, Prompto was the most human out of all of them. He snuck into his isolation room, held Noctis' hand through the worst of the fevers and delirium, brought him pictures and small gifts and stories of the world outside the lab. Sometimes, Verstael — Prompto's "father" — hitched along, and Noctis could easily see the family resemblance despite the years separating the pair. Verstael headed a different department, his studies and research devoted to machines and weaponry, but he somehow had special clearance granting him an all access pass, even to the project concerning the torture of a small prince.

Verstael never showed remorse or pity, Noctis never expected him to.

But when the man shows up today, along with the damned Emperor himself, while the scientists do their regular poking and prodding with his skin and bones — while he's fully conscious for fuck’s sake — Noctis gets the first surprise in a long while.

Because he expects to die, to be tossed down the chute with the scattered remains of failed MTs, since he's been deemed useless and a waste of precious lab resources. The Emperor is here today because he's finally had it, and his workers are pathetic wormbrains who can't tell the difference between a scalpel and a bulldozer, so he's going to save everyone the trouble by finally putting the poor boy out of his misery.

And the kicker? Noctis only lives because Verstael vouches for him — rather, he asks for a hand-me-down toy to gift his son.

Prompto even pops his head out from behind Verstael's fluttering lab coat. “If you don’t want him anymore," he says, trying to nail the final head on the coffin, "just give ‘im to me. I’m sure I can get at least something.”

Noctis wants to cry, to laugh. He wants to die and live all at once, and he can't even make the decision for himself now that his fate is once again in the hands of another. Instead of blood, he tastes betrayal and relief on his tongue.

He never really had any doubts.

He may not have known when his next meals would be, if they'd just feed him intravenously with cocktails of nutrients and supplements, or if they were just going to run some biopsies or take so many blood samples to nearly run him dry. He may not have known what day would be his last, or if his hours were numbered or set on an infinite timeline.

But what he does know, is that Prompto Besithia cannot be given a modicum of trust. And in that knowledge, with the facts he lumped together with the most basic rules of reality, he finds comfort and stability and control.

Prompto never lies, because he has no reason to. He has power and rank and prestige, and those three are enough to get him almost anything he wants in all of Niflheim. He does what he enjoys, goes where the cold winds of Shiva’s corpse sway him to, follows his own whimsies of the day and pursues it relentlessly. But while he does not lie, he dresses his harsh truths in such frills and delicate colors, and offers his poisons surrounded by sweets and silver.

When they first met, Noctis a scared and hurt child and Prompto a curious half-boy, Noctis took whatever form of security and comfort that he could. He didn’t care that this Prompto was Niflheim-born, didn’t question why a young little thing could roam in and out and about the classified lab base as he pleased. He didn’t care what form or origin it came in, so long as he could find something, anything to help keep himself from shattering under the suffocating weight of fear and despair.

He devoured whatever companionship Prompto offered, listened to whatever spiel he chattered on about, counted the minutes and seconds that passed until the boy would wander in again with a trinket or fragment of his science project for that day. He ignored the dim light of red in his pupils, whenever his eyes seemed to catch the overhead fluorescent lights at just the right angle, and pretended Prompto was just a fellow child looking for companionship and offering his mercies.

Noctis always knew — felt it like a tiny thorn stuck under his fingernail — that it was all wrong. He suspected that the Niffs, Aldercapt or the scientists or whoever, were simply using Prompto as a way to worm their way into his good graces, a Trojan horse who was offered as a friend but housed a parasite to break down his defenses from the inside. Throw him into despair, dangle that spider’s thread of hope, and let Noctis wish and believe just to weaponize it and bend him even more to their will.

And if that was truly their intention, they won. He knew. He knew they couldn’t be trusted, knew Prompto and his too clear eyes and plastic smile held secrets and self-driven motivations, but Noctis was so driven into desperation that he forced himself to play along. He needed to survive, to live and see his father and friends and Insomnia again, and he could only last so long without losing his sanity. He needed to bend lest he break , and if that meant bending his own mind and dancing along to their piper’s song, then he’d delude himself into believing.

So he pretended. He pretended Prompto was a curious boy and not in service to the Emperor, pretended their friendship was genuine and not a game of house, pretended that there was still hope to be had when there was nothing but darkness ahead.

But no matter how much he tried to convince himself, he could only run on the fumes of hope for so long. He gave up the idea of a future, of reuniting with his friends and kingdom, so he gave himself over to their cruel hands and let them play with him as they wished, waiting for the day Aldercapt would tire of him.

And of course, when that chance finally came, Prompto — in both mercy and cruelty — snatched up the rights to Noctis' life before they could be tossed into the garbage.

So Noctis sits here, in a room far too reminiscent of his childhood, with its fine draperies and soft carpet and trims of gold among the reds and whites of Niflheim’s colors. He sits on the bed, his back against the headboard and his unfeeling legs spread over the smooth sheets, while Prompto digs through his closet and starts picking out shirts and pants to fit Noctis in. He sits and watches, wonders what game they're to play, if Prompto will continue to be that endearing and cheerful companion while Noctis the pitiful and meek charity case, and decides there's no point in thinking about it when he convinces himself this make-believe is reality. It's the only way he can go on, to put on his rose-colored glasses and act as if he's relieved to escape death. To be thankful that Prompto took away his well-deserved rest.

“Y’know how a long time ago, dad found Ifrit hibernating in some volcano? We found Leviathan in Ulei Trench, just a little ways west of Altissia.”

When Prompto returns to him one day, bearing a plate of dubious-looking fruit and word of a grand discovery, Noctis receives the news he's been waiting for. Prompto doesn't betray his expectations either, and he delivers his grand tidings with such finesse and hope that Noctis almost believes the honesty in them.

“I sort of got dibs on her, since dad and Adagium’s been playing around with Ifrit. And I want to try something new.” He hands Noctis an apple, the skin such an artificial and unsettling red, but when Noctis curls his fingers around it, Prompto wraps both his hands around Noctis’. His hands aren’t cold, not like they once were, now that Prompto’s learned how to regulate his body temperature to a perfect thirty-seven Celsius; but just like everything surrounding Prompto, it’s too perfect and calculated that he may as well have his plastic cold touch again because it’s far less unsettling.

Prompto applies just the right amount of pressure, cupping Noctis’ hand in near reverence and with such gentleness to make him believe, and he stares into his own reflection. That gaze is too tender, too practiced, like Prompto knows just how much conviction and warmth he needs to earn Noctis’ trust.

Which is laughable, really, because Prompto will never get it. Instead, he’ll get something better: obedience.

It’s here, where Noctis looks at the lines he’s drawn: the delicate boundaries of what is his, what is not, what will be, and what will be lost. He finds himself at these crossroads, more times than he cares to, and wonders just how far he’s willing to go. Here, now, he has Prompto. Here, Noctis is his object of attention, his diamond in the rough to polish or crack, a blank canvas to paint or rip apart; and for now, it’s all Noctis needs to keep Prompto tied to him. And he has no intention of letting Prompto throw him away. Not yet, not when Prompto has no right to.

For when Prompto decided he was going to keep Noctis, Noctis decided he was going to keep Prompto — by whatever means necessary. This is his revenge, because if Prompto wanted to play this game and coat everything in sickly fine sugar, then Noctis was going to take every damn thing he had to offer and weave their lives in barbed wire if he had to.

“Do whatever you want. I’m yours.” Noctis says it simply enough, but he has Prompto eating out of his palms.

It’s cute, how Prompto words it as if he’s giving Noctis a choice, but he knows there’s never really an option. There’s nothing stopping him from playing with Noctis as he sees fit, to cut and slice like the other previous researchers did, but he keeps up with the appearances of a “childhood friend” like he’s made for it. He even offers his reasoning as a plan specifically made for Noctis’ benefit.

“It’ll be a long process. We gotta fix up your spine first, see what needs replacing or not, then we can get to the fun part,” Prompto explains. Noctis doesn’t feel the way his fingers run up and down his legs, paralyzed and unfeeling as they are, but he sees the way his hands like to still at his thighs and knees. He recognizes that look, the way his gaze doesn’t speak of affection or love but rather of numbers and charts and formulas.

“They might not be legs, in the end, but you’ll be able to move. Doesn’t that sound like a fun idea?”

There he goes again, phrasing his words like Noctis even gets a choice. But he plays along anyway, nods his head, and that’s all the consent either of them need.

It starts gently, simple blood tests to check compatibility, a few minor skin samples here and there. Noctis doesn't bother to hold his breath though, and he waits with silent conviction for the day Prompto walks in with a whole cart of vials, forceps, and whatever mad scientists like to use. He's had worse — perhaps not physically (yet), but mentally. All during that time he had let those researchers tear him apart, he held hope and a miserable wish, and each passing day made his heart rend itself. Now there's no expectation to shatter, no tears to shed over broken promises and lofty dreams.

But when Prompto takes an agonizingly long time to take that plunge, Noctis makes the decision for him and takes them both over the edge, grabbing him at his collar and dragging him down to eye level.

“Stop beating around the bush. I know what you want, and you know what I want. I’m done playing this round of the game. ”

Noctis trades flesh and blood for false comforts and plastic warmth; Prompto trades sweet smiles and gentle touches for each pound and pint. It’s easier to play when both of them find their roles, and they become grand actors in their own rights. Sometimes, Noctis even fools himself.

His skin itches, layers peeling and sloughing off like an infection eating away at him. There’s dried blood underneath his fingernails, where he scratches and tears despite the heat of pain that follows, and Prompto has to physically restrain him to keep himself from further damage. His neck, ribs, and arms are the worst, where his darkened skin seem to be inflamed but take on a dark blue hue with raised bumps. Raised scales. Prompto makes sure to take daily skin biopsies and blood samples.

His neck aches, and breathing becomes a conscious effort. Where his carotid arteries are, his skin breaks in two large gashes, and Prompto dutifully cleans the wounds and packs them with sterile dressings. It feels like a breath of fresh air when it’s time to re-do his packing, whenever the gauze is plucked out from them like a rubber stopper. Noctis can’t help but feel how stiff it feels to turn his neck, and even the strongest analgesics only take the edge off the burning pain. Still, Prompto rewards his suffering and patience with whole-hearted attention and beguiling coos; Noctis receives it all like a child coddling his lollipop after a doctor’s visit. So long as each keep up their part of the bargain, there’s no complaint to be had.

When Prompto decides it’s time to strap him to the operating table and peel through his back for his spine, Noctis is just grateful for the medically-induced coma.

When he awakes, he’s surrounded by water and glass and for the first time that year, he takes in a deep breath that finally fills him with satisfaction.

“Prompto.”

Prompto eats the last of the desserts left over, when Noctis insisted he had no more room left. He licks the brittle crumbs off his thumb and wipes at the bit of cream from the puff pastry, then licks that too. If his father saw him like this, his head cradled in the cold lap of his dear mer, he’s sure Verstael would be shaking his head in exasperation. Not because of the familiarity he treats Noctis with, but because of his terrible eating manners — munching away messily on a midnight snack while lying down.

He can already hear his father clicking his tongue at him, saying “Don’t haunt my laboratory should you choke and suffocate, foolish boy.”

So before the Verstael in his head can lecture him any further, he ignores his father’s voice and replies with a hum. He also ignores the way Noctis’ hand snakes its way up to his throat. He feels four claws gently press into his flesh, a reminder that they’re there and could claw through his throat to rip his vocal cords out. He only misses the fifth claw because he decided to “trim” it all the way to the cuticle for and save it for analysis later.

“Stay.”

Prompto lifts his eyes to gaze into sweet, tragically beautiful blues, and he sees a ring of magenta surrounding them. It used to be so pale, a dim purple. Ah, how he desperately wants to see the architect behind those eyes. If he plucked one out, would it still hold his reflection? Would Noctis still look upon him with a love so vindictive yet so voracious?

But of course. All Prompto has to do is offer himself.

He brushes his fingers over Noctis’ hand, where his nails threaten to shred through his jugular, and takes it to press a kiss on his scarred knuckles.

“As long as you want.” Prompto smiles. Cold, like the aquarium that has them both trapped.

#mermay #final fantasy xv #ff15 #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #i can type

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exolstice-blog · 6 years

Text

Sweet Lies | Yixing

[A/N: this was requested by another anonie😖💕

genre: Criminal Investigator!AU , Criminal!AU , Angst , Fluff

group-member: EXO-Yixing

prompt: 25- Being somewhere you’re not supposed to be, (05) “You’re one of the most important things in my life.”

word count: 1885

ummm i actually had this idea for a while so im so happy I got to write it, I hope you all like it✨💓💓

It didn’t take long for you to realize you were in a position you shouldn’t entirely be in at all.

Alright. Maybe you’d figured part of it when this child—as in, the-man-you-were-supposed-to-incarcerate’s child—threw her tiny arms around you like you were some kind of T.V-bonbon nanny.

You weren’t much a kids person, not friendly and certainly not sweet. You’d lost all and any capability for sugar-coating the moment you joined the forces, just one in the many casualties of the whiplash of mental barbarity and callous reception.

So, of course, you could only stand there around and about looking painfully uninterested when the kid began pulling dolls from her backpack so as to make up for the lack of conversation.

“When is Papa coming?” The girl lifted her mellow gaze to you, doll discarded. Her eyes sparkled with the incredible endeavor of keeping herself from crying. God knew how she’d learned to pull the trick with Zhang Yixing for a father.

“He’ll be here shortly,” you said in as soft a voice you could summon as you looked outside the tarnished apartment window to the rundown street below. As convenient as it was to have some secret den in the worst part of the city—where it sure did not look safe at all and would totally be overlooked as a place to stay—you couldn’t give him all the credit. The move was smart, yes, but other plagues fouled the streets and therefore other things could get you killed.

Luna seemed to understand that.

“I’m scared,” her fingers fluttered on her lap, arms tentatively rising in a gesture that craved for touch, for a hand to grasp her own.

“You don’t have to be.” Really, she didn’t. You’d been trained to disarm a man double your weight, to shoot point blank without the needless gnawing feeling of contrition that brought you near to vomiting when the bullet shot straight through the back of his head.

But you weren’t just about to tell her that. You shook your head and shut your mouth, pushing yourself away from the window and coming closer to the girl.

“I’m here.”

That should be enough. You weren’t someone for pretty words and consolations, and so you couldn’t believe all that “it’s going to be alright” bullshit yourself, even more when—

“Thank you.” You stiffened again when her arms came around you, when she pressed her head like a little cat on your waist and hid her tears in your coat.

Now, this shouldn’t be happening. Not when the existence of this girl was practically unknown to you still until barely a mere three days ago and specially not when you were betraying yourself (becoming all fluff and rainbows and all for this kid) for a man you’d started catching feeling for and whom you were supposed to investigate.

So, yeah, you could only stand there, petting her head like the small creature that she was and wonder what the fuck was going on.

Then, the door creaked, and you had your gun out before it could be opened, shoving Luna behind you. A breath, your aim and—

“Papa!”

You heaved a sigh with Yixing entering the room with a gun of his own, handing it to his right man when Luna ran and leaped to his arms.

“My baby,” he seemed to be gasping, rocking the little one in an embrace, more to comfort himself than to appease her. “I’m so sorry.”

“I thought you wouldn’t come see me,” Luna was crying, having finally given in to what had put her in a trance all those hours that you’d waited.

Yixing clutched her tight, “You’re one of the most important things in my life. No, you are my life, my moon. If something happened to you...”

You swallowed, turning your back on the two and encasing your gun. You’d never seen Yixing so helpless, so at the mercy of something that involved not gunpowder and lead. Granted, you’d never encountered the one thing that made him the weakest.

Zhang Yixing was tranquil and numb in all his hushed ire, a demonic doll with a handsome hard cover and calculative death for stuffing. A man that lived up to the “highly-deceiving” “manipulative” and “vicious” that accompanied his name.

The moment you met him you’d learned as much. Admittedly, you shouldn’t have ambushed his home without a permit and aimed your weapon at him, yes, but he shouldn’t have just almost dislocated your arm either.

From then on, you were forced to work close to him and follow his every move, much to your, quite sickening, internal abhorrence of him. Yixing was acute, alright, and knew well you were reporting back everything you caught so he let you hang around, a gimmick he pulled so as to prove to you he wasn’t into the shady business his files said he was.

And the guy did it right. You couldn’t yet prove how much of his records was certain but only that the “highly deceiving” part was well earned.

Yixing wrought you in a string of lies with darling words and daring gazes, blinded you out of all competence for setting apart right from wrong and good from bad with the upward tilt of his blushing lips. Introduced you to the bitter taste of failure with alcohol in them, but with the saccharine savor of his mouth that made it all feel worth it...

You shut your eyes harsh until you saw things, dark things that stung and weren’t him kissing your neck, anything that wouldn’t drive you close to delusion.

You opened them again and turned your look back inside, away from the window that had hosted your little reverie. Luna was laughing now, showing her father a doll she mentioned to have borrowed from her friend, before she received a call saying he was waiting outside to pick her up. That was a lie, and someone wanting to hurt Yixing’s greatest treasure had been able to pull it.

Luna, smarter than to be fooled by a car that wasn’t her father’s, sneaked away before being caught and hid for almost an hour when Yixing frantically called you and virtually demanded you to protect his daughter, which is how you’d ended up in that apartment in the first place.

You still wondered how he’d been able to know what went down and who was it that threatened Luna. Mentally, you took a note on questioning him later, you wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily when you could’ve just gotten a lead to proceed with your investigation.

“Go with Uncle Byun for a minute, alright my love?” Yixing kissed Luna’s forehead before standing up, cleaning off her tears tenderly and brushing back her hair before he looked at you. Oh, you needed to talk too, alright.

“Yes, Papa,” Luna followed the dark haired man who outstretched his hand to her, taking it for a second before letting go. She looked at you timidly before running and hugging your hips again, smiling, “Thank you, pretty lady.” With that she ran back to the man who took her hand cheerfully and let her out in high-spirited conversation.

Yixing seemed to have regained a little bit of the color of his cheeks as he watched her go and sighed, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if something—”

“Probably execute me first,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms and smiling like you meant it as a joke. Partially you did.

“Probably,” he grinned, walking up to you and claiming your mouth, fixing you in place by the strong hold of your jaw. Yixing, as it’d come to be the usual, tasted of liquorice and alcohol and was rough with his hands but kind with his lips. He was the embodiment of a flower that was delight with all its charms but that hurt when you touched it because it kept its thorns. Only that sometimes Zhang Yixing was all thorns.

He pulled back flushed and bit his lip. His hair was pushed back and he was smiling some kind of way that was hazardous, that made that dimple that he had appear and drive you giddy.

It wasn’t fair.

“Thank you,” Yixing rested his head on your shoulder, didn’t quite look at you. His hand grasped yours and, yes, it wasn’t fair, because he knew his way with deceptions and you couldn’t let out a word. “I could never be more at your mercy, if they’d hurt her—”

“Who is ‘they’?” You avoided his fingers tangled with yours and only looked ahead. Forget all kisses and touches, bottom truth was all of it was done for both your purposes and it was only a matter of time to see who accomplished theirs first. And you intended that to be you.

Yixing stiffened and backed away and inch, smiling, “You don’t expect me to actually tell you, do you? They could hurt you too, and I don’t want to be responsible for it.”

“I won’t blame you, just tell me who they are.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that, I really don’t want something to happen to you.”

You laughed, retracting your hand from his, “And it won’t. Let’s stop playing pretense for a minute, alright. You know who I am and what I do. You know whatever this between us is is nothing but sweet lies and make-believe. I catch bad people for a living, Yixing, and whoever tries to abduct a six-year-old in plain daylight clearly qualifies as bad. And if you won’t let me catch them, I have all reason to think you’re trying to protect them.”

You knew you might have gone too far. Yixing developed a pallor that sickened you greatly. Of course, you shouldn’t have mentioned that last thing when he’d almost gone insane with his daughter at risk, how stupid of you. But you were mad, alright. You weren’t sure you could handle more of it, of his blasphemous touches and softer-than-feathers kisses, even if they were all but sweet lies.

No, you didn’t want a liar, and you knew a bad guy when you saw one and Zhang Yixing was unquestionably and irrevocably one.

He ran a hand through his hair and cursed, looking at you only reluctantly, “To think I liked you.”

“Fuck, Yixing, are we kids? Do you think I’m that stupid to believe you?” You gritted your teeth, maintaining your voice as low as possible and hoping the air wouldn’t carry it to wherever Luna was.

Yixing sighed, shaking his head ‘no’, and turned to leave. And goddamn him because, somehow, any lie could be better now than to watch him go.

“I thought I could have you by my side by doing this. I guess you really can’t expect too much from me and I can’t blame you.”

Yixing stopped on the threshold, then—

“It was her mother—Luna’s—when I said ‘they’.” He gave you one last glance. “I hope that was all you needed, officer.”

Zhang Yixing took all the sweet and lies that constituted him when he closed that door, leaving a liquor-bitter scent in your mouth if you closed your eyes and wanted him, if you wondered whether you had been the pretender all along.

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theworstbob · 7 years

Text

every grammy for record of the year settled

another installment of what is slowly becoming a series of me pointing at things i’m mostly okay with and making simple jokes instead of writing actual things. i have six rough drafts of fictional shorts i said i wanted to post by the end of january and now its february 11th and fuck, dude, but this is so much easier!

1959 "Catch a Falling Star," by Perry Como "The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late)," by David Seville "Fever," by Peggy Lee "Witchcraft," by Frank Sinatra WINNER: "Nel Blu Dipinto Di Blu (Volare)," by Domenico Modugno

This field actually sets the tone for all the future Grammy categories to come. There's 2 songs that are really fucking good, there's one person who's here because they have a reputation as a person who is popular, there's some fucking awful bullshit that we're only going to remember in five years because it's, y'know, fucking awful bullshit, and then the winner is some obscure nonsense that sort of renders the whole operation moot, like if in 2007 the Oscar for Best Picture went to Chumscrubber, or if the Falcons won the Super Bowl. Peggy Lee/Frank Sinatra : Beyonce/Rihanna+Drake :: Perry Como : Adele, David Seville : Lukas Graham :: Domenico Modugno : twenty one pilots.

Yeah the winner is "Fever." I'm not looking to re-invent the wheel here, the best song of these five is "Fever," like are you kidding me, "Fever." "Fever," guys. "Catch a Falling Star" is a relic of an era where all we wanted from male pop stars was for them to be a gentle father in a sweater to say he's proud of us, "Witchcraft" goes but its only failure is that it's not "Fever," hahaha they actually thought "The Chipmunk Song" would stand the test of time, and "Nel Blu Dipinto Di Blu (Volare)?" Fuck outta here, "Nel Blu Dipinto Di Blu (Volare)." I have nothing to say to you. What are you? I don't care. You're not "Fever." Also I immediately regret this exercise because now I'm just angry I'm alive in era where songs don't have horn sections. Someone give me a big band cover of "Closer." Yeah I know Postmodern Jukebox did "Closer" BUT THEY DIDN'T DO IT THE WAY I WANTED. DO IT AGAIN.

TRUE ENDING: "Fever"

1960 "A Fool Such as I," by Elvis Presley "High Hopes," by Frank Sinatra "Like Young," by Andre Previn "The Three Bells," by The Browns WINNER: "Mack the Knife," by Bobby Darin

Im going to give Andre Previn a shitton of extra credit here for apparently naming his album Secret Songs for Young Lovers, which is a simply killer album title. Like I think only Mitski's Bury Me at Makeout Creek can stand up to that title. I'm also giving it extra credit for being an instrumental, that's just refreshing. It still only adds up to a strong second, I'm not here to be contrarian (yet), they got it right, but yo, Andre Previn! You seem chill.

TRUE ENDING: "Mack the Knife"

1961 "Are You Lonesome Tonight?" by Elvis Presley "Georgia on My Mind," by Ray Charles "Mack the Knife," by Ella Fitzgerald "Nice 'n Easy," by Frank Sinatra WINNER: "Theme from A Summer Place," by Percy Faith

Hey! Black people! I legitimately was worried we wouldn't see them for another few years, but hey, they got an early invite (relative to American history)! I like that "Mack the Knife" was nominated again. It makes me wish that, last year, both Tay Tay's "Blank Space" and the indie dudebro's "Blank Space" cover had been nominated simultaneously. When you type "Georgia on My Mind" into the YouTube search bar, suggested searches include "Ludacris," "Willie Nelson," and "Michael Buble," and that is one person away from being a party I'd like to attend. I really want to give this to "Mack the Knife" again because I think that'd be funny, and I, an ignoramus, shouted "YO THIS IS THAT SONG?" the second I heard "Theme from A Summer Place," I've heard that used as a music cue in a billion comedies, that song is iconic, but the winner is "Georgia on My Mind." That song won an Oscar for Jamie Foxx.

TRUE ENDING: "Georgia on My Mind"

1962 "Big Bad John," by Jimmy Dean "The Second Time Around," by Frank Sinatra "Take Five," by The Dave Brubeck Quartet "(Up a) Lazy River," by Si Zentner WINNER: "Moon River," by Henry Mancini

"Big Bad John" just makes me angry that country music used to feel legit and dangerous, and nowadays Brantley Gilbert thinks he's an outlaw because he has a tattoo honoring the 2nd Amendment (a law). I promised myself I wouldn't turn any one part of this into an extended treatise on bro country, but it's not extended if I keep it to two sentences, however compounded they may be! Anyhoo. These are five decidedly not-unpleasant songs by five white dudes. I understand I'm making an assumption about Si Zentner here, but it's 1962. People were still wearing hats in this season of Mad Men, I think it's a safe assumption. I think. I dunno. I think? Yeah, fuck it, "Take Five," that had a pretty boss drum section. Imagine listening to every song made in 1961 and thinking, "Yes. These. I love these five songs." "Stand By Me" was the biggest hit of the year. "Runaway" was number two, I'm pretty sure that was a banger, and if not at least it couldn't be worse than these five. "Hit the Road Jack." "Crying." "Shop Around." "Crazy." Hey guys I just made a hot discovery, I think solely using the Grammy nominees for Record of the Year does not an accurate snapshot of music history provide.

TRUE ENDING: It doesn't matter because it can't be "Stand By Me," but "Take Five" I guess

1963 "Desafinado," by Stan Getz & Charlie Byrd "Fly Me to the Moon Bossa Nova," by Joe Harnell and His Orchestra "I Can't Stop Loving You," by Ray Charles "What Kind of Fool Am I?" by Sammy Davis Jr. WINNER: "I Left My Heart in San Francisco," by Tony Bennett

You can pick up some interesting tidbits from music history, though, such as the fact conductors would have "and their orchestra" in their name. I'd be so much more okay with the state of things, as they are, if The Chainsmokers would start going by The Chainsmokers and Their Soundboard. I don't mean to impugn The Chainsmokers' ability as songwriters, I'd listen to "Closer" a million times before I gave any of these songs another spin, I would just prefer more accuracy in my song attribution. Also the extra credit "Like Young" got for being an instrumental is waning. I could have listened to "Run Up" five times. That's what I could have done with these twenty minutes. ...At least they didn't nominate "The Monster Mash." It wouldn't have been without precedent! They could have nominated "The Monster Mash." No matter how bad it is, it can always get worse.

TRUE ENDING: "I Can't Stop Loving You"

1964 "Dominique," by The Singing Nun "Happy Days Are Here Again," by Barbra Streisand "I Wanna Be Around," by Tony Bennett "Wives and Lovers," by Jack Jones WINNER: "Days of Wine and Roses," by Henry Mancini

when do the 1960s get to the seasons of mad men with stan in them. oh okay hi there "wives and lovers" aren't you horrible. what a blast from the past you are. why am i doing this. fuck it.

TRUE ENDING: "Dominique"

1965 "Downtown," by Petula Clark "Hello, Dolly!" by Louis Armstrong "I Want to Hold Your Hand," by The Beatles "People," by Barbra Streisand WINNER: "The Girl from Ipanema," by Astrud Gilberto & Stan Getz

HERE. WE. FUCKING. GO. Holy shit. Up-tempo music! Songs I wouldn't only ever listen to in hotel lobbies, that aren't all the exact same ballad! What good fortune! We can actually have a fun debate over which of these songs was actually the best! Sort of. I mean. Just in terms of cultural impact, it's "I Want to Hold Your Hand." I wouldn't dare argue that "I Want to Hold Your Hand" isn't a historically significant song. But "Downtown" is just a nice song about going to the city and seeing a moviefilm, "Hello, Dolly!" is just a wonderful little ditty which brings to mind Freakazoid, "People," erm, and "The Girl from Ipanema" is about as surreal as it gets when you're talking about Record of the Year nominees. And we're not talking about cultural impact, y'know? (At least for now, this is gonna go all over the place.) We're talking about my shitty opinion which, here, overlaps with that of the Grammys in this instance. "The Girl from Ipanema" is dope.

TRUE ENDING: "The Girl from Ipanema"

1966 "Yesterday," by The Beatles "The 'In' Crowd," by The Ramsey Lewis Trio "King of the Road," by Roger Miller "The Shadow of Your Smile," by Tony Bennett WINNER: "A Taste of Honey," by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass

It sounds like taking the easy way out to pick what is widely recognized as the best song ever made by what is widely recognized as the best rock band of all time, but. Um. It's really hard to argue for the other four songs here. You could, in a vacuum, almost make an argument for "The 'In' Crowd?" But I'm at the point in this project where I am completely okay with the idea of never hearing a jazz instrumental ever again. Also I regret being mean to Barbra Streisand the last two years, you're right, those jokes were unair, she's a national treasure and I miss the days when true theatre kids could score Record of the Year noms. The only representation theatre kids get in pop music these days is Tay Tay, and that's disappointing. Anyhoo, yeah, fucking "Yesterday." Whatever.

TRUE ENDING: "Yesterday"

1967 "Almost Persuaded," by David Houston "Monday, Monday," by The Mamas & the Papas "What Now My Love," by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass "Winchester Cathedral," by The New Vaudeville Band WINNER: "Strangers in the Night," by Frank Sinatra

One positive from this experience is that all the Mario Maker videos that YouTube had been recommending to me for months are being replaced with songs from the '60s YouTube thinks I might enjoy. Lemme talk about my YouTube recommendations window for a hot second because it’s gone through some shit to get me to watch Mario Maker content. There was a chain. Like, carlsagan42, I could understand, I'd watched AGDQ VODs that featured him, YouTube knew I liked speedrunning and Let's Plays of Mario Maker, here's this guy. And GrandPooBear, that was fair, he was in AGDQ, he seemed like a chill dude, it made sense I would enjoy him, too. But now it's recommending just random dudes to me. "Here's a white dude with a beard playing carlsagan's troll level!" Alright, I guess I fuck with him, he seems chill. "Hey! We found this white dude with a beard playing that white dude with a beard's troll level!" Wh - okay, this is, why is his display name Japanese, I don't, why are y "Here's a dude who just plays troll levels!" GREAT, WHY. WHY DID HE MAKE A CAREER OF DOING THAT. These songs are uninspiring, is what I'm saying. In 1966, notable releases (according to Wikipedia so who actually knows but I'ma go with it) include "The Sound of Silence," "Uptight (Everything's Alright)," "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'," "When a Man Loves a Woman," "Paint it Black," "You Can't Hurry Love," "It's a Man's Man's Man's World," "I Got You (I Feel Good)," "Good Vibrations," "I'm a Believer," and "You Keep Me Hanging On." "Ain't Too Proud to Beg." "God Only Knows!" I listened to "Winchester Cathedral." None of these songs deserve any recognition.

TRUE ENDING: i mean "Monday, Monday" but legit who could find it in them to care

1968 "By the Time I Get to Phoenix," by Glen Campbell "My Cup Runneth Over," by Ed Ames "Ode to Billie Joe," by Bobbie Gentry "Somethin' Stupid," by Nancy Sinatra & Frank Sinatra WINNER: "Up, Up and Away," by The 5th Dimension

R E S P-E C T No but like legit there was one year where it sounded like the Grammys were finally over the '50s. Ah, but no! No. ...The world had "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" in 1967. Fucking, a version of "Try a Little Tenderness" dropped in 1967. AND THEY HAD "MY CUP RUNNETH OVER." I AM APPALLED. I AM AGHAST. THIS I -- man, fuck this awards show in particular. I'm giving this to "Ode to Billie Joe" because it's the only song of this bunch I feel I'm being unfair to by bringing up better songs. That song holds its own. It's dark, it's grim, it fucks you up in all the right ways. It's the rare song that feels dated because it's so far ahead of its genre's current game. And I guess I'm down with "Up, Up and Away," too, sure, yeah, whatever, I'm down for a nice song about balloon rides. Everything else, tho. Especially "Somethin' Stupid." Wow. That sure is a thing that happened. That sure is a thing multiple people thought was a great idea! My stars.

TRUE ENDING: "Ode to Billie Joe"

1969 "Harper Valley PTA," by Jeannie C. Riley "Hey Jude," by The Beatles "Honey," by Bobby Goldsboro "Wichita Lineman," by Glen Campbell WINNER: "Mrs. Robinson," by Simon & Garfunkel

In back-to-back years, country songs performed by women were nominated for Record of the Year and subsequently adopted into feature-length films. Country music used to own, is the primary takeaway from this exercise so far. Anyhoo. I'm not gonna judge these nominees by what they could have been, because it's not necessarily these songs' fault they're not the songs that actually define this era of American history. They're nice, safe songs, and it's totally understandable why a committee wouldn't disagree with making these the five songs they wanted to present to an increasingly discomfited public for their good-time parade of nice-seeming celebrity. I don't know why I expected an awards show to lead any kind of movement in the late 1960s, it's not their job now and it certainly wasn't then, but I thought I'd at least be getting jams from the past. I got the worst Beatles song and "My Cup Runneth Over."

TRUE ENDING: "Harper Valley PTA"

1970 "A Boy Named Sue," by Johnny Cash "Is That All There Is?" by Peggy Lee "A Time for Us," by Henry Mancini "Spinning Wheel," by Blood, Sweat & Tears WINNER: "Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In," by The 5th Dimension

Well, this is the least disappointing batch of nominees in years! These songs are more than unobjectionable. "A Boy Named Sue" and "Is That All There Is?" and "Aquarius" are all unimpeachable. Picking one of those three is rough, but honestly I'm just stoked to have a hard choice to make. ...I almost want to go with "A Boy Named Sue" just so I don't have to agree with the Grammys after slagging on them so much, but like "Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In." Like, I have a vision of what the 1970s sounded like, and I just typed I had a vision of what something sounded like and I need to like take a walk or drink a water or something. Take a moment, take a breath, come back stronger.

TRUE ENDING: "Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In"

1971

"(They Long to Be) Close to You," by The Carpenters "Everything is Beautiful," by Ray Stevens "Fire and Rain," by James Taylor "Let It Be," by The Beatles WINNER: "Bridge Over Troubled Water," by Simon & Garfunkel

...OK I'm not into any of these so let's just list other notable songs that were likely released in 1970. "ABC." "Big Yellow Taxi." "Black Magic Woman." "Express Yourself." "Get Up (I Feel Like Being a) Sex Machine." "I WANT YOU BACK." They nominated a song which explicitly states that everything is beautiful and ignored the song which provides IRREFUTABLE FUCKING PROOF the world is beautiful. We're not done. "Lola." "The Letter." "Paranoid." "SIGNED, SEALED, DELIVERED I'M YOURS." NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT. ONLY THE GREATEST FUCKING SONG OF ALL TIME. THAT HAS NO PLACE IN THE GRAMMYS! WHY SHOULD IT? THERE'S TOO MANY BALLADS IN THE WORLD FOR US TO PAY "SIGNED, SEALED, DELIVERED I'M YOURS" ANY MIND. Shit. I dunno. How could I possibly know.

TRUE ENDING: "(They Long to Be) Close to You"

1972 "Joy to the World," by Three Dog Night "My Sweet Lord," by George Harrison "Theme from Shaft," by Isaac Hayes "You've Got a Friend," by James Taylor WINNER: "It's Too Late," by Carole King

OH HELL YES. I can get behind this field, which is to say: I am getting behind the theme from Shaft. "Joy to the World" is lovably loony, I'm not about to speak ill of Carole King, "My Sweet Lord" is about as good a song like that as you're ever gonna find, but Shaft. Shaft, y'all.

TRUE ENDING: "Theme from Shaft"

1973 "Alone Again (Naturally)," by Gilbert O'Sullivan "American Pie," by Don McLean "Song Sung Blue," by Neil Diamond "Without You," by Harry Nilsson WINNER: "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face," by Roberta Flack

"Superstition." I honestly don't get what Kanye hopes to accomplish by boycotting the Grammys when the Grammys couldn't give "Signed, Sealed Delivered I'm Yours" or "Superstition" their due. What even was that Gilbert O'Sullivan nonsense. Criminy. This is, this is just who they are, y'know? Neil Diamond sings the blues. That most iconic blues performer, Neil Diamond. They get no points for giving the trophy to Roberta Flack. Roberta Flack is something we can all agree on, you don't get a PhD in astronomy for pointing at the sun and saying "that's a bright ol' star!" and you don't get credence as a song-recognizing function for recognizing Roberta Flack made a good song.

TRUE ENDING: "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"

1974 "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown," by Jim Croce "Behind Closed Doors," by Charlie Rich "You Are the Sunshine of My Life," by Stevie Wonder "You're So Vain," by Carly Simon WINNER: "Killing Me Softly with His Song," by Roberta Flack

I. I don't WANT to agree with this terrible program twice in a row. I'm glad to see Stevie eventually got a make-up nom, but I don't really feel that song too deeply (at least, judged against the rest of his catalogue; this would be the best song Gilbert O'Sullivan ever made by a country-ass mile), and no that doesn't make any sense but I've listened to 16 years' worth of songs the Grammys think are good, I'm not in a good place right now. I could easily say "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" takes it, it's a great song, it wouldn't be that b -- but "Killing Me Softly with His Song," though! Am I sort of giving it the nod because of The Fugees' version? Yes, but, see, The Fugees' version doesn't get nominated, so.

TRUE ENDING: "Killing Me Softly with His Song"

1975 "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me," by Elton John "Feel Like Makin' Love," by Roberta Flack "Help Me," by Joni Mitchell "Midnight at the Oasis," by Maria Muldaur WINNER: "I Honestly Love You," by Olivia Newton-John

...I mean. I sort of decided to make Roberta Flack a hero today after spending a lifetime not thinking of her that often? But I spent the entire 1960s listening to jazz compositions and friendly dads giving me life advice. "Feel Like Makin' Love" is, when considering the scale of this project, like breathing in skunkless country air after a lifetime in the city. Which isn't to say "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me" isn't the class of the pop sub-genre Songs Clay Aiken Can Capably Perform, or that "Help Me" isn't a jam. Just, Roberta Flack made three nice songs, and that makes this project worth pursuing somehow, no matter how many times I have to listen to blondes whisper about how much they love someone.

TRUE ENDING: "Feel Like Makin' Love"

1976 "At Seventeen," by Janis Ian "Lyin' Eyes," by Eagles "Mandy," by Barry Manilow "Rhinestone Cowboy," by Glen Campbell WINNER: "Love Will Keep Us Together," by Captain & Tennille

the best song i heard in this batch was the five seconds of rock guitar in the miller lite ad that presaged "rhinestone cowboy." i mean, on its own, "rhinestone cowboy" would have been the true ending, but that five seconds of guitar the youtube advertising algorithm attached to the beginning pushed it over the top.

TRUE ENDING: "Rhinestone Cowboy"

1977 "Afternoon Delight," by Starland Vocal Band "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover," by Paul Simon "I Write the Songs," by Barry Manilow "If You Leave Me Now," by Chicago WINNER: "This Masquerade," by George Benson

...So, it's been a while, right, since we complained that what was presented to us isn't what it could've been? But since a clear novelty song about bangin' when the sun's out was given a nod, let's see what else 1976 had to offer. Hm, well, the two biggest hits of the year were "Dancing Queen" and "Bohemian Rhapsody." Those aren't too egregious, assuming your standard for egregious is "Signed, Sealed Delivered I'm Yours." Which is to say, if you're dead inside, those aren't notable omissions. "Baby, I Love Your Way" is as basic as anything in this field, but I think people remember that as an Actually Good song, so I'ma bring that up. "I Wish!" "The Rubberband Man" is the best song about a fat man playing his body as an instrument you're ever like to hear. "Squeeze Box" was the centerpoint of one of the better Freaks & Geeks scenes. I'm listening to "I Write the Songs." Everyone who thinks the past is better is wrong. "I Write the Songs” is a less self-aware version of "7 Years." "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" is acceptable, I guess. It was compelling, and it grabbed my attention. I think "This Masquerade" had its moments, but "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" had me. I dunno. I think it's just bad that I, a music history simpleton, could come up with a viable ROTY field with like half a minute of looking at Wikipedia. Hell, I'm gonna go ahead and be super unfair and judge the Grammys for not seeing into the future and seeing all the dope tweets about "The Boys Are Back in Town."

TRUE ENDING: "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover"

1978 "Blue Bayou," by Linda Rondstadt "Don't It Make My Brown Eyes Blue," by Crystal Gayle "Evergreen (Love Theme from A Star Is Born)," by Barbra Streisand "You Light Up My Life," by Debby Boone WINNER: "Hotel California," by Eagles

I'm going to give this year props for featuring four songs performed by women in the ROTY field. Remember my alt-nominee field from last year? The only women in that field were in ABBA. So at least the Grammys got this right, ignore the racial composition of this field DON'T THINK TOO HARD ABOUT IT, and then it would be until 1999 that the Grammys would have another year with a 4:1 female:male ratio in this category. Anyway, "Blue Bayou." If that surprises you, you haven't been paying attention.

TRUE ENDING: "Blue Bayou"

1979 "Baker Street," by Gerry Rafferty "Feels So Good," by Chuck Mangione "Stayin' Alive," by Bee Gees "You Needed Me," by Anne Murray WINNER: "Just the Way You Are," by Billy Joel

...i thought we were done with jazz instrumentals. another fool am i. Anyway fuck everything in this world that isn't the sax solo in "Baker Street" for not being the sax solo in "Baker Street." See that song is basically a jazz instrumental, but,,, the sax solo in "Baker Street" is maybe the greatest thing that's ever been? Also let's just note how the first disco song nominated for Record of the Year is by three white dudes. Dope. History is cool. But at least we have the sax solo from "Baker Street" to keep us warm.

TRUE ENDING: "Baker Street"

1980 "After the Love Has Gone," by Earth, Wind and Fire "I Will Survive," by Gloria Gaynor "The Gambler," by Kenny Rogers "You Don't Bring Me Flowers," by Barbra Streisand & Neil Diamond WINNER: "What a Fool Believes," by The Doobie Brothers

listen, i took some time off to do other things, and then i woke up at two am this morning and said, "let's continue this fool's errand!" and i made it through a few years and now it's two hours later and i am interesting in selecting the INCREDIBLY OBVIOUS CHOICE and moving on

TRUE ENDING: "I Will Survive"

1981 "The Rose," by Bette Midler "Lady," by Kenny Rogers "Theme from New York, New York," by Frank Sinatra "Woman in Love," by Barbra Streisand WINNER: "Sailing," by Christopher Cross

woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow. um. i mean, 1980 isn't a particularly inspiring year? but got.DAMN this field is so bad "escape (the pina colada song)" has a viable claim to snub status. how did this awards show survive? how did we never do better than this? are we just committed to not being into the american music awards?

TRUE ENDING: "Woman in Love"

1982 "Arthur's Theme (Best That You Can Do)," by Christopher Cross "(Just Like) Starting Over," by John Lennon "Endless Love," by Diana Ross & Lionel Richie "Just the Two of Us," by Grover Washington, Jr. with Bill Withers "Bette Davis Eyes," by Kim Carnes

I've listened to two Christopher Cross songs and "Endless Love" before having any coffee, which was a mistake. We're at this weird point in history where my unearned nostalgia doesn't exist because I'm pretty sure the '80s were mostly terrible, and the Grammys aren't 1981 bad because I get a chance to shout out Bill Withers (which I'm sure he totally appreciates, this sort of seems like something that wouldn't insult his very being, is some asshat pointing out how great he is in a whole entire piece where nothing of substance is ever said), but they're still really fuckin' bad. Also ignore what I said about the '80s being terrible because fuckin' "9 to 5" was dropped this year, as was "Don't Stop Believin'!" They selected John Lennon's best Queen impression. Dead Kennedys released a song called "Nazi Punks Fuck Off!" in 1981. That classic is, somehow, timeless.

TRUE ENDING: "Just the Two of Us"

1983 "Steppin' Out," by Joe Jackson "Ebony and Ivory," by Paul McCartney & Stevie Wonder "Always on My Mind," by Willie Nelson "Chariots of Fire," by Vangelis WINNER: "Rosanna," by Toto

As alluded to above, I am a card-carrying member of something I guess I have to call Poo Nation. (There is no card, regrettably.) I'd have to check the rules, but I am pretty sure I'm not allowed to besmirch the good name of Toto, even if the song in question is not "Africa." I think "Steppin' Out" might've been a good true ending in an alternate universe, and it's hard to deny "Chariots of Fire" is legendary (if anything has to be the last instrumental I hear while doing this, I'm glad it was that), but I'm not tryna incur anyone's wrath here. Also, hey, here's Stevie Wonder and Willie Nelson, getting makeup nods for lesser tracks. "Ebony and Ivory," that's just a more prestigious version of "Accidental Racist." No one should feel good about that song. But the first six seconds of Rosanna, that's a sort of "pinnacle of human achievement" thing, that's something we should put in a museum.

TRUE ENDING: "Rosanna"

1984 "Flashdance... What a Feeling," by Irene Cara "Every Breath You Take," by The Police "All Night Long (All Night)," by Lionel Richie "Maniac," by Michael Sembello WINNER: "Beat It!" by Michael Jackson

Wh... What is this? What just happened? A whole five songs I've listened to outside the context of this project? Songs which all still endure to this day? A winner that could actually stake a claim as the most iconic song of 1983? The Grammys! It's like you just took off your glasses and did your hair all fancy and showed up to prom, and I'm just like, oh shit, the theatre dork was actually hot all along! Did we find it? Did we find the turning point? Did Flashdance provide the turning point? Is that the movie musical you guys watched and thought, "Oh shit, this music actually kind of goes, I think we oughta get with the times?" /looks at the next year/ IT IS! Bless you, Flashdance. Bless this change you provoked in the Grammys. I'm not about to do something silly like not pick "Beat It!" but I will at least acknowledge that you are phenomenal and were the true spark that ignited the Grammys and also no one involved in your production ever fucked any kids, probably.

TRUE ENDING: "Beat It!"

1985 "Hard Habit to Break," by Chicago "Girls Just Want to Have Fun," by Cyndi Lauper "The Heart of Rock 'n Roll," by Huey Lewis and the News "Dancing in the Dark," by Bruce Springsteen WINNER: "What's Love Got to Do with It," by Tina Turner

hm. it's such a tight field we have here. not a one clear standout in this bunch. i don't know. this is a tough choice. i'm sure glad i wasn't a voting member in 1985. imagine seeing the choice laid before you and slowly having the impossibility of the task ahead dawn on you. what a daunting prospect. (tell ya what tho, "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" is a strong-as-hell second place, and "Dancing in the Dark" is possibly the strongest bronze.)

TRUE ENDING: "What's Love Got to Do with It," by Tina Turner

1986 "Money for Nothing," by Dire Straits "The Boys of Summer," by Don Henley "The Power of Love," by Huey Lewis & the News "Born in the U.S.A.," by Bruce Springsteen WINNER: "We Are the World," by USA for Africa

oh praise ra i actually get to break from the grammys So I think "The Power of Love" is solid, I think it'd be hard to find someone who'd say they have any sort of disagreement with this sound. "Born in the U.S.A." is similarly a classic. I love how The Other Side keeps trying to repurpose it as a rousing anthem for them when it is an absolutely scathing indictment of what has become of the American working class. It's such a self-own, playing this song at Republican conventions, and I love it every time it happens. You think they'd have learned how to process subtlety by now! But: I am not attached to "Born in the U.S.A." too deeply beyond that. As an emokid straight outta the mid-aughts (hey there goes my claim to any valid political opinion! later, bro!), have a special connection to "Boys of Summer," tho. Is Don Henley's version The Ataris' version? No. It is not. But we set the precedent in the Roberta Flack threepeat that, even though this is Record of the Year, we will recognize the power of the composition. We also must acknowledge that "Money for Nothing" is the absolute fucking worst.

TRUE ENDING: "The Boys of Summer"

1987 "Sledgehammer," by Peter Gabriel "Greatest Love of All," by Whitney Houston "Addicted to Love," by Robert Palmer "That's What Friends Are For," by Dionne Warwick & Friends WINNER: "Higher Love," by Steve Winwood

One other notable change, apart from the fact the songs are now actual songs that I can imagine people casually listening to in the era in which they were released: these songs are fucking long. You go back to the first Grammys, I don't think any songs lasted past 3:15, and now we have "Sledgehammer," which lasts five minutes. All the songs from the 1986 field were five minutes long. It sort of feels like we've trimmed the excess in our modern era, because my reaction to all these songs is, "Alright, I'm feeling this one! I am grooving! ...Okay, I've grooved. I've felt it. You can go now. No, you can g -- oh, more? OK, cool, I guess that's cool." Except "Addicted to Love." That's a positively breezy four minutes, and it holds the attention the entire time. It's slightly leery? It's kind of "Blurred Lines"y? But it's not overtly gross that it's unworthy of celebration!

TRUE ENDING: "Addicted to Love"

1988 "La Bamba," by Los Lobos "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," by U2 "Luka," by Suzanne Vega "Back in the High Life Again," by Steve Winwood WINNER: "Graceland," by Paul Simon

...Yeah, fuck it, "La Bamba," I don't like that the choice I have to make is a cover of a '50s hit, but HASHTAG GRAMMYS, amirite. Time to look at Wikipedia because the Grammys have displeased me! ...OK, so there's "I Wanna Dance with Somebody." "Alone" has been a stable of reality singing competitions for thirty years, now! "Bad" woulda been acceptable. "Don't Dream It's Over" may not be the most notable tune in the world, but unlike eventual champion "La Bamba," it was made in 1987. "UM "FAITH" HOW ABOUT?! "The Final Countdown" is listed as a 1987 single and I get why it wouldn't get ROTY love but I would be remiss not to point out its presence on the list. Who doen't love "(I Just) Died in Your Arms?" LL Cool J coulda gotten some hype, I'm not gonna pretend to be familiar with '80s rap but that's a name I know. "Need You Tonight" got INXS a reality show 20 years later. WHAT THE FUCK YOU COULD'VE EASILY REPLACED "LA BAMBA" WITH "RHYTHM IS GONNA GET YOU." "Welcome to the Jungle" is a metal song, sure, but you're gonna tell me that's less influential than "Graceland?" Also I changed my mind because I forgot how fucking good "Luka" is.

TRUE ENDING: "Luka."

1989 "Giving You the Best That I Got," by Anita Baker "Fast Car," by Tracy Chapman "Man in the Mirror," by Michael Jackson "Roll with It," by Steve Winwood WINNER: "Don't Worry, Be Happy," by Bobby McFerrin

I commend "Don't Worry, By Happy" for laying the foundation for maybe the greatest Key & Peele sketch, and I'm loathe to pick two unrelentingly sad songs about good people in awful situations in a row, but, like, "Fast Car." "Fast Car," y'all.

TRUE ENDING: "Fast Car"

1990 "The End of the Innocence," by Don Henley "She Drives Me Crazy," by Fine Young Cannibals "We Didn't Start the Fire," by Billy Joel "The Living Years," by Mike + the Mechanics WINNER: "Wind Beneath My Wings," by Bette Midler

So apparently the two things I liked about the 1980s are the kitschy one-hit-wonder-y singles that are completely of their times, and the songs about horrifying tragedies. But y'know what at least those were closer to the vision of '80s music I had in my head than the options from the '70s were to ‘70s music. I don't know if that sentence makes sense. I've listened to a lot of bad and/or trashy music. For no reason. When was the last time I asked why I was doing this? I would like to ask that question again: why am I doing this

TRUE ENDING: "She Drives Me Crazy"

1991 "Vision of Love," by Mariah Carey "U Can't Touch This," by MC Hammer "From a Distance," by Bette Midler "Nothing Compares 2 U," by Sinead O'Connor WINNER: "Another Day in Paradise," by Phil Collins

MC Hammer has more ROTY nominations as a performer than Prince. The first rap song ever nominated for ROTY was "U Can't Touch This." MC Hammer was the first rapper to earn a ROTY nomination. ...You're right, this isn't fair, MC Hammer apparently built himself, and the distinction easily could've gone to MC Skat Kat. That's the motto: no matter how bad, it could always be worse. TRUE ENDING: "Vision of Love"

1992 "(Everything I Do) I Do it for You," by Bryan Adams "Baby Baby," by Amy Grant "Something to Talk About," by Bonnie Raitt "Losing My Religion," by R.E.M. WINNER: "Unforgettable," by Natalie Cole w/Nat King Cole

I am 100% convinced "Unforgettable" only won because the Grammys were completely in love with the fact Natalie Cole and Nat King Cole performed together. "Look!" they said, laughing and clapping. "Their names are of similar mouthsound! Delightful!" Anyway, instead of the idiosyncratic rock song, we're going with the country song about doin' it.

TRUE ENDING: "Something to Talk About"

1993 "Achy Breaky Heart," by Billy Ray Cyrus "Beauty & the Beast," by Celine Dion & Peabo Bryson "Constant Craving," by k.d. lang "Save the Best for Last," by Vanessa Williams WINNER: "Tears in Heaven," by Eric Clapton

OH SHIT THE GRAMMYS JUST HIT US WITH THE THROWBACK! Awful novelty single? CHECK. Treacly ballad? CHECK. Ponderous slow song from an influential-but-overlooked performer? I FEEL BAD ABOUT SAYING IT BECAUSE IT'S A SONG ABOUT HIS KID WHO DIED BUT, OKAY, THIS IS WHO I AM, CHECK. And we have A NEW KIND OF BAD this year: THE POP VERSION OF THE SONG FROM THE MOVIE MUSICAL. Angela Lansbury or GTFO. k.d. lang does sort of earn this by default, I'm not gonna lie to you and say I dug the song presented to me, but I absoltuely respect the pioneering work she did in advancing stylization in performers' name. k.d. lang paved the streets on which Panic! At the Disco marches.

TRUE ENDING: "Constant Craving"

1994 "A Whole New World," by Peabo Bryson & Regina Belle "The River of Dreams," by Billy Joel "If I Ever Lose My Faith in You," by Sting "Harvest Moon," by Neil Young WINNER: "I Will Always Love You," by Whitney Houston

The end result is always the same, no matter what, but hoo boy, this sequence is something else. '90s music is generally ugh, but you had "Nuthin' but a 'G' Thang," "Mr. Jones," "No Rain," "Shoop," "What's Up?" But this. Billy Joel. Again. It's only been three times or something but it feels like Billy Joel has been nominated for this award every year.

TRUE ENDING: "I Will Always Love You"

1995 "I'll Make Love to You," by Boyz II Men "He Thinks He'll Keep Her," by Mary Chapin Carpenter "Love Sneakin' up on You," by Bonnie Raitt "Streets of Philadelphia," by Bruce Springsteen WINNER: "All I Wanna Do," by Sheryl Crow

The Grammys have relapsed pretty hard. And because we're in the 1990s, and also I've kind of hit a wall in terms of my enthusiasm for this project, I'm not even listening to these songs, because there's not any lessons to be gleaned here, music was being taken over by grunge and rap and the Grammys didn't know how to react so they literally gave their biggest award to a song which states, "All I wanna do is have some fun." Let's just have some fun, guys! Stop being so sad about everything, let's just, let's play Parcheesi! You used to love Parcheesi! Let's play Parcheesi and just, let's just have some fun! But yeah the Grammys are havin' some issues coming to terms with reality.

TRUE ENDING: "I'll Make Love to You"

1996 "One Sweet Day," by Mariah Carey & Boyz II Men "Gangsta's Paradise," by Coolio "One of Us," by Joan Osborne "Waterfalls," by TLC WINNER: "Kiss from a Rose," by Seal

Now THIS. This, I can extremely fuck with. Nary a quibble I have with the Grammys' assessment of 1995! Do I maybe trade out "One Sweet Day" for "Fantasy?" Of course, I'm not that dead inside. Do I maybe replace "One of Us" with "You Oughta Know?" Eh, I think "One of Us" is more timeless, in that it's about God and not Dave Coulier, but I'd hear the argument. Do I maybe put "Life's a Bitch" in there instead of "Gangsta's Paradise?" Yes, but I completely get why they wouldn't. I think we've found it. I think we've found the most acceptable list! And the winner is almost the acceptable winner! Also, I didn't realize this until I dove into the list of hits from 1995, but apparently Ko[backwards R]n and P.O.D. were active and hitmakers in 1995. I knew it was coming soon? But I didn’t think it started when I was in Kindergarten.

TRUE ENDING: "Gangsta's Paradise"

1997 "Give Me One Reason," by Tracy Chapman "Because You Loved Me," by Celine Dion "Ironic," by Alanis Morissette "1979," by The Smashing Pumpkins WINNER: "Change the World," by Eric Clapton

And we're back. Though, hey, the Grammys are still making incremental progress. There's grunge, earning respectful recognition that it did, indeed, happen, and the Grammys were aware of it but ever distant! Alanis Morissette gets a nod for writing a song about how sometimes bad things happen! And TRACY CHAPMAN JUST ENDS THE FUCKING GAME. Someone once described "Give Me One Reason" as the last true blues hit, and that is such an accurate assessment. Everything about "Give Me One Reason" owns. I am thrilled to have shared some portion of the earth with the two Tracy Chapman songs we have briefly discussed.

TRUE ENDING: "Give Me One Reason"

1998 "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?" by Paula Cole "Everyday Is a Winding Road," by Sheryl Crow "MMMBop," by Hanson "I Believe I Can Fly," by R. Kelly WINNER: "Sunny Came Home," by Shawn Colvin

I believe it was @fart who tweeted that "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?" and "The Boys Are Back in Town" share two different perspectives of the same event, and I'm sticking to that here. This right here is sort of the distillation of the '90s, assuming you're ignoring, y'know, rap: while you can't deny that this was probably what everyone in the '90s was listening to, you can absolutely fault everyone in the '90s for listening to this, because this is bad. But this is what was popular! "MMMBop," a song about grappling with your own mortality while making mouthsounds, was the biggest fucking song! You couldn't escape it! "It" referring to "MMMBop!" Like, the 1981 field was bad? But it was bad because it was bland, and it was regressive, and it wasn't of the time. This is bad because the songs are bad. They're all dated, they have no appeal beyond kitschiness, they're just, ugh. For once, it's not the Grammys' fault. ...Not entirely. Again: rap. We had that. We didn't have do the Sheryl Crow thing again.

TRUE ENDING: "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?"

1999 "The Boy Is Mine," by Brandy & Monica "Iris," by Goo Goo Dolls "Ray of Light," by Madonna "You're Still the One," by Shania Twain WINNER: "My Heart Will Go On," by Celine Dion

The '90s weren't without their saving graces, of course. Golly. Imagine being presented with this field and voting for something that wasn't "The Boy Is Mine." So many people did! I'm not gonna sit here and say that "My Heart Will Go On" wasn't the biggest musical craze of 1998, I lived through that shit, I endured that shit, believe you me, from a historical standpoint, it deserves this award. It's not history's fault, though, that so many more people listened to "My Heart Will Go On" than "The Boy Is Mine." It's those people's fault. WHAT THE HELL, PEOPLE. What was wrong with you. ...At least you're still 15 or so years from your choice being Macklemore. It's hard to tell which is worse, but at least there's a good chunk of time between your failings.

TRUE ENDING: "The Boy Is Mine"

2000 "I Want It That Way," by Backstreet Boys "Believe," by Cher "Livin' La Vida Loca," by Ricky Martin "No Scrubs," by TLC WINNER: "Smooth," by Santana ft./Rob Thomas

...I don't like what I'm about to do. You know I think "Smooth" is a hot one. You know how I feel about guys in the passenger side of their best friend's ride, tryna holla at me. You know what I believe with regards to an existence of a life after love. You know I live that crazy life. ...If I'm doing karaoke, though. If I'm doing karaoke, and I need one song to fire every fucker in this dingy bar the fuck up, I need an all-time classic song that everyone loves and everyone knows, IF I AM SELECTING ONE JAM TO TAKE THIS PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH CALLED LIFE TO FLAVOR TOWN. ...It's gonna be "I Want It That Way." It's a perfect song. It is expertly crafted, the epitome of Swedish song design. It's this massive engine driving this amazing being into existence. I don't like that it is perfect. You may not like that it is perfect. But it is perfect and we love it. There are truths in life which are undeniable. "I Want It That Way" is one such truth.

TRUE ENDING: "I Want It That Way"

2001 "Say My Name," by Destinys Child "I Try," by Macy Gray "Music," by Madonna "Bye Bye Bye," by *NSYNC WINNER: "Beautiful Day," by U2

ugh what is with the u2 thing Anyway, this would ideally be where we start recognizing the things Beyonce has done for the world and all who live in it, except "I Try" is amazing. Also we're in the aughts and everyone knows and loves the aughts and no one has anything bad to say about the aughts so I'm not even gonna try to stretch for profundity it's lightning round time.

TRUE ENDING: "I Try"

2002 "Video," by india.arie "Fallin'," by Alicia Keys "Ms. Jackson," by OutKast "Drops of Jupiter (Tell Me)," by Train WINNER: "Walk On," by U2

SERIOUSLY THIS U2 THING. WHAT ARE THEY SEEING THAT I'M NOT. WHAT COULD THERE POSSIBLY BE IN THERE. Anyway, hello. Rap has been around for two and a half decades and three rap songs have been nominated for Record of the Year in this space. That is as many rap songs as U2 songs in the same span of time. And lemme just skip ahead real quick here, and... Yep, yep, of course, the entire genre of rap and U2 are still tied in the official Record of the Year Grammy count! That's incredibly acceptable and great.

TRUE ENDING: "Ms. Jackson"

2003 "A Thousand Miles," by Vanessa Carlton "Without Me," by Eminem "Dilemma," by Nelly & Kelly Rowland "How You Remind Me," by Nickelback WINNER: "Don't Know Why," by Norah Jones

Legit question: is "Dilemma" the last great duet? I know Drake and Rihanna have put in work trying to find a great duet, I know Usher and Alicia Keys dropped "My Boo," I'm going to point out New Found Glory and Hayley Williams collaborated on "Vicious Love" and wait until this point is completely ignored before I move on, there we go, I think this might be the last great pop duet! I think the last great pop duet features the iconic screencap of Microsoft Excel Messenger!

TRUE ENDING: "Dilemma"

2004 "Crazy in Love," by Beyonce ft./Jay-Z "Where Is the Love?" by The Black Eyed Peas "Lose Yourself," by Eminem "Hey Ya!" by OutKast WINNER: "Clocks," by Coldplay

See, I'm disqualifying "Crazy in Love" from consideration from the "great duets" debate because it's not a duet. Jay-Z has a feature verse. Anyway: FUCK THIS. "Crazy in Love" vs. "Hey Ya!" absolutely 100% fuck this. Like that's a goddamn debate right there. There could be an entire 1000-episode podcast debating who should have won this category, "Crazy in Love" or "Hey Ya!" And it's not like the other three are slouches. "Lose Yourself" is disappointingly but definitely more popular than either track, "Where Is the Love?" is the kinda-awesome midpoint between Woke BEP and Party BEP, and I'd bop "Clocks" from the party but I'd let it hang for a few minutes, get a glimpse of a world other than its own before throwing it out on its ass. But "Crazy in Love" vs. "Hey Ya!" Fuck, dude. ...Grammys can tie, right? Yeah, there's ties in the Grammys. Fuck it, even if there's not ties in the Grammys, there's ties in this weird alternate reality Grammys because legitimately how the fuck do you choose.

TRUE ENDING: "Hey Ya!" & "Crazy in Love"

2005 "Let's Get it Started," by The Black Eyed Peas "American Idiot," by Green Day "Heaven," by Los Lonely Boys "Yeah!" by Usher ft./Lil' Jon & Ludacris WINNER: "Here We Go Again," by Ray Charles & Norah Jones

...Like?

TRUE ENDING: "Yeah!"

2006 "We Belong Together," by Mariah Carey "Feel Good Inc.," by Gorillaz ft./De La Soul "Hollaback Girl," by Gwen Stefani "Gold Digger," by Kanye West ft./Jamie Foxx WINNER: "Boulevard of Broken Dreams," by Green Day

...OK, shit. Um. "We Belong Together" set the Mariah comeback in stone and history has a place for it, but I don't have a trophy for it. It's "Gold Digger" vs. "Boulevard" for me, and... And I think I gotta give it to. "Boulevard?" See, here's the thing, though, if "Stronger" were nominated a few years down the line, or "Love Lockdown," or "Niggas in Paris," yes! Absolutely, there'd be an argument! But "Gold Digger" is... Not his finest song? It's a funny-ish song about a stereotype. It has charm, it has that Ray Charles sample, but it's sort of, what's the phrase I'm looking for? Chop up the soul Kanye? It's that. It's good not great. "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" is a song that captured the hopelessness and futility of life as a lower-class individual in the Bush era and is presently capturing the hopelessness and futility of life as anyone in the Trump era. The world needed and continues to need songs like that.

TRUE ENDING: "Boulevard of Broken Dreams"

2007 "Be Without You," by Mary J. Blige "You're Beautiful," by James Blunt "Crazy," by Gnarls Barkley "Put Your Records On," by Corinne Bailey Rae WINNER: "Not Ready to Make Nice," by Dixie Chicks

"Not Ready to Make Nice" is the shit. I wanted Mary J. Blige or Gnarls Barkley to win, I could almost write that argument, but I just, "Not Ready to Make Nice" is the angriest song ever written. It is the apotheosis of the "message to the haters" song; it walks the same thematic ground as Tay Tay's "Shake It Off," but thunder emanates from its every step. And it's angry in that plain-spoken metaphorless way only country music can pull off. She does not obscure what has her fucked up: the letter stated, "shut up and sing or your life will be over." She is not going to forget. It's so powerful. Does it define 2006 in music? No, let's not be silly, "SexyBack" owned the year, Timbaland had more than a few songs hit #1, this song didn't have reach or impacy beyond the Grammy, but this song. This fucking song, man.

TRUE ENDING: "Not Ready to Make Nice"

2008 "Irreplaceable," by Beyonce "The Pretender," by Foo Fighters "Umbrella," by Rihanna ft./Jay-Z "What Goes Around.../...Comes Around," by Justin Timberlake WINNER: "Rehab," by Amy Winehouse

okay no need to write an extended defense of this one, we know what's up

TRUE ENDING: "Irreplaceable"

2009 "Chasing Pavements," by Adele "Viva la Vida," by Coldplay "Bleeding Love," by Leona Lewis "Paper Planes," by M.I.A. WINNER: "Please Read the Letter," by Robert Plant & Alison Krauss

i'm not really feelin' any of these songs, but WE'RE SO CLOSE TO THE END so fuck it here's the song i come closest to feeling

TRUE ENDING: "Paper Planes"

2010 "Halo," by Beyonce "I Gotta Feeling," by The Black Eyed Peas "Poker Face," by Lady Gaga "You Belong with Me," by Tay Tay WINNER: "Use Somebody," by Kings of Leon

oh wow, so, y'know, okay, how? how do we still have years like this? i know dope tunes were released in 2009 because i lived it, how do so many people get together and think, "yes! these!" this field is so bad, if you dropped drake's "best i ever had" into it, it would have a legit claim to the title. this is unconscionable! i hate this! why did i do this?

TRUE ENDING: "Poker Face"

2011 "Nothin' on You," by B.O.B. ft./Bruno Mars "Love the Way You Lie," by Eminem & Rihanna "Fuck You," by Cee Lo Green "Empire State of Mind," by Jay-Z ft./Alicia Keys WINNER: "Need You Now," by Lady Antebellum

Ah, the poetry of a group with the word Antebellum in their name emerging from a pack of black artists to claim a trophy they didn't deserve. Memories! What lovely recent history! Anyhoo, as sure as the earth is round, "Fuck You" is the best pop song of the decade so far. I'll fight you. Dungeon fam, I just gave you two Grammys for the mantle.

TRUE ENDING: "Fuck You"

2012 "Holocene," by Bon Iver "Grenade," by Bruno Mars "The Cave," by Mumford & Sons "Firework," by Katy Perry TRUE ENDING: "Rolling in the Deep," by Adele

"love on top," "party rock anthem," "niggas in paris," "the motto," "the edge of glory." what the fuck, you guys. picking songs that are good isn't hard but you fucked it up five times in a row somehow.

TRUE ENDING: i mean "Rolling in the Deep" i guess? ye gods this is dire

2013 "Lonely Boy," by The Black Keys "Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You)," by Kelly Clarkson "We Are Young," by Fun. ft./Janelle Monae "Thinkin Bout You," by Frank Ocean "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together," by Tay Tay WINNER: "Somebody That I Used to Know," by Gotye ft./Kimbra

So now that we have years and years of historical context for the Grammys, let's take a minute to discuss what a miracle it was that Frank Ocean was ever nominated. The Grammys spent years ignoring anything resembling a subculture. As the 1960s grew increasingly psychedelic, the Grammys kept handing out nominations to Frank Sinatra and jazz instrumentals and gentle sweater dads. They dipped their toes into funkier things in the '70s, but they stayed the hell away from actual funk, from rock, from anything that looked like it might have been near cocaine at any point in their life. They gave Frank Sinatra a ROTY nomination in 1980. 1980! The Grammys had shown zero sign that they were even close to acknowledging a black man with ambiguous sexuality singing songs just on the edge of the mainstream existed. "Thinkin Bout You" peaked at 32 Stateside. There would have been zero outcry outside of The Internet if his song weren't nominated. And yet! They did! I don't get how, but I dig it! Anyway the best song of these six is "We Are Young" and how. How is "Call Me Maybe." ...A thousand steps forward, one step back, I guess.

TRUE ENDING: "We Are Young"

2014 "Radioactive," by Imagine Dragons "Royals," by Lorde "Locked Out of Heaven," by Bruno Mars "Blurred Lines," by Robin Thicke ft./Pharrell Williams & T.I. WINNER: "Get Lucky," by Daft Punk ft./Pharrell Williams

yeah they got it right, i don't care

TRUE ENDING: "Get Lucky"

2015 "Fancy," by Iggy Azalea ft./Charli XCX "Chandelier," by Sia "Shake It Off," by Tay Tay "All About that Bass," by Meghan Trainor WINNER: "Stay with Me," by Sam Smith

wooooooooooooooooooooooooow you really dont have to go back that far to find one of the all-time worst fields. i don't know if we've dropped any song off the face of the earth faster than "fancy," i barely even remembered it existed. "all about that bass" gets more embarrassing with each passing day. "stay with me" is mor pap. "shake it off" is horrifyingly immature and features tay tay rapping, which is, it's just a gross thing to have experienced. "chandelier." "chandelier" almost single-handedly redeems this field. i know i've used this blog to discuss what a miracle it is that sia exists as she does in the music landscape today, but legitimately, what the fuck. how? i don't mind! but how? but no for real "Chandelier," "Happy," "Problem," "Drunk in Love..." hoo boy 2014 was dire, uh, "Timber." shit, dude, yeah, "Timber." ok. ok yeah i guess it's ok as long as "Rude!" didn't make the cut.

TRUE ENDING: "Chandelier"

2016 "Really Love," by D'Angelo & the Vanguard "Thinking Out Loud," by Ed Sheeran "Blank Space," by Tay Tay "Can't Feel My Face," by The Weeknd WINNER: "Uptown Funk," by Mark Ronson ft./Bruno Mars

"Uptown Funk"/"Can't Feel My Face" is the toughest choice since "Hey Ya!"/"Crazy in Love." I think I give it to "Uptown Funk," simply because it doesn't feel like "Can't Feel My Face" exists without it, but man, "Can't Feel My Face" is such a solid track.

TRUE ENDING: "Uptown Funk"

2017 "Hello," by Adele "Formation," by Beyonce "7 Years," by Lukas Graham "Work," by Rihanna ft./Drake "Stressed Out," by twenty one pilots

listen, if i had to pick the field, it's "formation," "stresed out," "love yourself," "closer," and "black beatles." maybe throw "panda" in there over "stressed out," more people seemed to be into that than "stressed out," who cares, 2016 just wasn't great for anything on earth which exists, but hey! at least this field is more or less accurate! i don't know what "7 years" is doing here, and neither do you, but i know we're both hoping it wins so we can watch the first fires of the revolution.

TRUE ENDING: "Formation"

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