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xoxostarzzz · 5 months

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Something Stupid like 'I love you'.

- eventually chuuran (and reader)

- slowburn enemies to lovers

- gender neutral reader (gn!reader)

- will have multiple chapters

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Something Stupid like ‘I love you.’

Another horrible morning on your way to the stupid place people call work, the’Armed Detective agency’. Which, you think is the most stupid, unimportant place in the world. The people you work with the most is a sadistic doctor, two siblings complicated relationship, a maniac, a guy who needs anger management, a guy who looks like he should be retired, children, and an orphan. And, worst of all, a narcissistic childish brat called Ranpo Edogwa, who just swears he’s the best person in the world. And worst of all? Everyone at your godforsaken work decides to support him!

And the enemy of your stupid work is equally horrible. It’s ran by a lolicon, has abused kids, a controlling “mother”, emo siblings, fangirl, grown man with a bowl cut, a ginger. And worst there? Another dude with anger issues, who’s short as can be, has a haircut that looks like a five year old is his barber, another ginger, and wears the lolicon’s old hat. Chuuya Nakahara. He has mood swings like crazy, and is completely insufferable. Both of these guys make your life miserable, except they really don’t try to…

Well, Ranpo totally tries to get on your nerves. But he’s just naturally a brat. And Chuuya has anger issues for days, but that’s also just how he is. So, why do they annoy you so much in particular? They make you feel weird, just them too. You’d never admit it, but the feeling was….

Oh. You’re here. You could tell by the sudden candy wrapper on the ground, you looked to the right, and the Armed Detective Agency building was there, so was Ranpo. One hand on his hip while the other was on the stick of the lollipop in his mouth, eyes closed like always. Your eyes changed to look at him, side glancing, and quickly became more annoyed just at the sight of him.

“Why are you here?”

He snickered, ready to make some smart comment. ‘I work here’, ‘because I’m the greatest detective’. He seriously thought that he was the best, better than everyone, and that everyone envied him. That’s how he is.

“Because I, the greatest detective Ranpo Edogwa, work at the Armed Detective Agency.”

You made a ‘tsk’ sound, as you clacked your tongue down. Not looking at him anymore, he responded exactly like you imagined. In fact, since he’s so “smart”, he probably knew you thought he’d say that, and said that just to annoy you. You were just about to step inside of the building- why would you want to be near him? Especially when he’s making his stupid smart comments. But, no. He decided he wasn’t done yet, and grabbed you by the sleeve.

“They aren’t here yet. They’re in the cafe.”

You rolled your eyes at that, what was he playing at? Why would he help you? He’s too annoying- too bratty, to do that. Or, as he puts it, “too great”- not that he is. You looked towards him again, head turned instead of the measly side glance like before. Deciding to play at his game, and to let him get what he wants. To be honest, it was really just to stop him from whining like a little kid by the end of it.

“All of them? Then why are you here?”

“I went to get my candy, and didn’t know where to go.”

Theres another thing that ticks you off. He, as a grown man, oldest in the Armed Detective Agency- doesn’t know how to get from one place to another. How do you, as a twenty-six year old, not know how to get from one place to another? If you’re so great then lead yourself to the cafe for gods sake.

“And what do you want me to do about that?”

True, what does he expect you to do? Lead him there? As if you’d ever lead someone as annoying as him to the cafe.

“Lead me.”

You could almost feel how happy he was with himself for saying that. He knows you despise him, he knows he’s the worst in the world to you. He just purposely annoys you because you don’t see his “greatness”, it’s ironic.

“What would ever make you think I’d lead you?”

His eyes finally opened, oh how nice of him to let his eyes fall onto yours. It’s the least he could do anyways… But, as if he’d overwork his “ever so great self”, wouldn’t want to have the greatest detective tired, would we? He gave some stupid smirk, as if he could already tell how upset you’re gonna be. He only knows how to make you look dumb and him look even smarter just cause he planned all of this out already. He planned on how to make you look, and seem, as stupid as possible.

“Because Tanizaki locked the door, so you’d be stuck here with me if you don’t. Now lead me.”

He’s really just so annoying. He’s the kinda dude who’d purposely annoy you your whole life just to amuse himself and make himself look even better. He stopped smirking, and just stared at you with his baby puke colored eyes. You groaned, before walking away from the door, clearly having an annoyed walk, you couldn’t make it anymore obvious. The steps were angry, yet slow where it didn’t make you look stupid- just mad. He did some little jump like a five year old, then started following you. One hand now holding the lollipop in it, other fixing his hat.

He watched you walk in front of him, as if he was fascinated… with how horrible you are, obviously. Seriously, who gets that upset just over having to lead the worlds greatest detective? You should be honored! You should thank him! This should be an amazing thing to you, thats how stupid people like you should feel when he tells them to lead him somewhere. Who do you think you are to get mad cause’ you have to do something for the smartest man in the world?

The lolipop went back in his mouth, he stopped fixing his hat. He also had picked up the candy wrapper off of the ground from earlier. No, not out of the goodness of his heart. Just to look at the candy wrapper, and mess around with it. Annoying crinkles from it were heard from behind you, he was probably just trying to annoy you again. He looooves seeing stupid people upset, stupid people like you. The crinkling continued, louder and louder. You eventually got fed up, and spoke in a somewhat louder voice than your usual one, as you side glanced behind you to look at the annoying, horrible man.

“Would you just shut up already?”

He snickered again. Great. What an amazing and communicative response. Really gave you a good answer. You rolled your eyes again, is that all you can do? Stopped by the door entrance, he took this as the perfect opportunity to put the crinkled up, germ ridden, candy wrapper trash, in your shirt. Just from the back, as if it was the most funny and rude thing in the world. He’s so amused and confident with his actions, he happily hummed to himself as he closed his eyes while walking into the cafe with all of the other memberers of this stupid agency.

You were about to walk away, but no. Ranpo had decided to drag you in, your eyes angrily shot to the annoying mastermind infront of you, but your eyes only met the back of his head. You then had also realized, one of the cafe ladies had seen you walk in. Now you didn’t want to make yourself seem rude, or pouty, so you stopped whining. Smiled at the lady softly, just to be slammed down in a seat at the bench of a table, where Ranpo was. So he’s not done annoying you yet? How nice of him.

“Aren’t you happy to be in the cafe with the greatest detective in the world?”

“No.”

“Rude.”

He also completely hated this, but as long as you’re upset, he’s happy. So he just had his chin rest on the palm of his hand, as he looked at the cafe area, where their usuals were being made. Ranpo was getting his usual of the sugariest treat they have there, and the sugariest candy filled drink they have too. Yours was being made too, you got one snack/treat and a drink. If you looked from behind Ranpo (which you wouldn’t, you don’t want to see Ranpo at all), you would see Dazai snickering. He probably took part of this, maybe cause Kunikida couldn’t come today. Whatever.

A lady came over and put what you two normally get on the table, you moved as far away from Ranpo as possible as you ate. He ignored it, and happily ate his sugary junk while his eyes were closed. He completely ignored you now that sweets was in the question, no wonder he’s single. You eventually finished your food, you had to make sure you didn’t look at him or else you’d not be able to finish it at all. You took the drink, and looked out the window, not looking at him at all. He took note of this, and said,

“You’re supposed to agknowledge me.”

You looked at him for once, clearly unhappy by that statement. He dragged you here, against your will, and still has the nerve to complain about you not wanting anything to with it, or him? And he swears he’s smart, if he really is that smart- why can’t he just leave you alone for once?

“Oh I’m sorry, princess. How is your food?”

“Was that that hard to do?”

“Yes.”

He rolled his eyes this time, before quickly changing his attitude. He happily hummed, and went back to his sweets. You sighed, and looked out the window again.

You’re gonna be here for a while, huh?

#bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuya nakahara #fluff #ranpo edogawa #bsd ranpo #ranpo x reader #bungou stray dogs ranpo #ranpo x you #ranpo x y/n #chuuran #ranchuu

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were-all-idjits-here · 4 years

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The Family You Have Here

Pairing: Dean x Reader (non-descript)

Warnings: mentions of abusive family, mentions of abusive comments, self deprecating thoughts, crying.

A/N: Although I hope everyone is having a fantastic holiday season, I know the holidays can be hard for people who don't get along with their families (me included). I thought we all could use some comfort from Dean Winchester to feel better. Thanks for the read! Comments/likes/shares are greatly appreciated.

Read here on AO3

~~~

You sighed and slid to the floor as your door clicked shut behind you. Biting your lip, you let your head fall back against the hard wood with a dull thud. Although most people loved the holidays, you hated them for a very specific reason: your family. Not the one you’d created with the Winchesters and their friends; the one that was biologically related to you. Growing up in Sioux Falls, you’d always had Bobby’s place to run to when things got rough. He’d been a friend of your uncle’s, who was estranged from the family. Once you’d connected with him, you’d realized the only reason he was estranged in the first place was because he was much saner than the rest of your family. It was a shame a ghoul had done him in years ago. You just hoped both he and Bobby were in a better place now.

Your phone vibrated next to you, making a rattling sound on the wood of your bedroom floor in the bunker. You jumped at the noise and looked to see a new message from Sam: Still hunting?

No, you typed. Just got back. Heading to bed now.

At 7pm? Sam asked. You ignored it. You hadn’t actually been hunting, you’d been with your family for Thanksgiving dinner. The reason you didn’t tell the brothers was because you knew they would’ve given you a lecture about it. Neither of them liked your family and had even gone so far as to call them abusive. Sam had mentioned narcissistic personality disorder multiple times while describing your mother. Especially since the two of you had gone to Stanford together for a little while and he’d met them multiple times. Dean had only met them once when there had been a hunt in your hometown, but that was enough for him to decide your mom was “a douche” and your dad was only enabling her. However, you still wanted a relationship with your dad and as much as he worshipped your mom, it was either cut both of them off or cut neither of them off. You tried to stay as low contact with your mom as possible, but it was hard. For so long, she’d been your entire social life, since she didn’t really allow you to have many relationships outside of her. The few you developed were either from school when she wasn’t around, or when you snuck out. It was especially hard to believe her behavior wasn’t normal, or that the horrible things she’d said to you weren’t true, when she’d been the only voice in your ear for nearly two decades. She had trained you to need her, but never to rely on her. Hence why you’d felt obligated to show up to family Thanksgiving. Now sitting on your bedroom floor completely drained of both feeling and tears, you’d wished you hadn’t.

Your stomach growled and you groaned. Your anxiety had been so bad the entire time, it had given you an upset stomach. You’d barely eaten anything in the last few days, since eating while your stomach was churning was never a good idea. Deciding you should at least have a nice hot shower and maybe something light, like crackers, you hauled yourself up off your floor, grabbed your bathroom things, and headed to the showers.

~~~

You’d thought you were drained of all possible tears, but you were wrong. It had been impossible to tell which was the water from the shower on your face and which was the tears. Your stomach continued to twist in knots and your anxiety was now so bad that you’d had to make a run for the toilet about every fifteen minutes. Why must your bowels betray you now, too?

You were starving, but nothing sounded good except maybe some applesauce and crackers. At least you felt nice and clean as you shuffled your way into the kitchen, sniffling and rubbing your tired eyes, wearing your comfiest pair of PJs with the hood up over your head like a hug. You could definitely use one of those right now, but both of the boys’ doors had been shut and you didn’t want to bother them. They rarely got a day off, much less the full week they’d been taking—and never on a holiday. You doubted they’d really celebrated Thanksgiving the way most people did, but you still wanted to make sure they had their downtime. Besides, you bothered them enough whenever you needed something—which seemed like a lot.

You sighed as you pulled out the jug of applesauce you kept in the fridge, grabbing a spoon and just eating directly out of the jug. You plopped down on the island stool with your water bottle and closed your eyes, swinging your feet as you did so—at least, until your foot bumped into a lump.

“Ow,” a gravelly voice mumbled beneath you. Your eyes shot open to see Dean Winchester sitting on the floor next to your feet. “Why are you kicking me?”

“Why are you on the floor?” you asked around a mouthful of food.

“It’s a free bunker.” He hauled himself to his feet using the bar stool next to you, groaning all the while.

“Old man,” you mumbled.

“Whatever. You ain’t that much younger than me, kid.”

“Then why do you still call me kid?”

“’Cause…free bunker,” he muttered, plopping down next to you with a sigh, his beer bottle clunking on the table.

You snorted and shook your head, just enjoying his company. Although you’d had a crush on him since you were a teenager, you knew the type he went for. Ever since you’d joined them on hunts years ago, you’d had to watch him go after numerous women in bars who looked nothing like you. Attractive, for example. Your mom constantly reminded you every time she saw you how you needed to “lose weight.” Although you and Dean had become practically inseparable over the years—eating burgers together, watching dumb horror movies and rocking out to Metallica in the Impala—there was no way he saw you as anything more. If he had, he would’ve said something, right? Either way, you would take whatever affection from him you could get, even if it was just platonic.

“You feeling okay, kid?”

You nodded. “Just a little queasy.”

It was quiet for a moment before Dean finally said, “You weren’t really on a hunt, were you?”

You finally looked over at him. You were about to deny it, but one look in his probing green eyes told you there would be no getting away with it. “I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now, Dean.”

He held his hands up in a surrendering position. “I wasn’t gonna lecture you. I just want you to feel like you can come to me with this stuff.”

“How’d you find out?”

“Guess your mom was having trouble getting a hold of you, so she called Sam ’cause she knows you two still talk.”

You sighed and closed your eyes, pushing the applesauce away from you. “Why did he pick up?”

“He got that new phone last month and didn’t transfer her number, so I guess he didn’t know who it was. Thought it might be another hunter.”

You groaned. “I’m sorry he had to deal with her.”

“I don’t get why you still deal with her.”

“Dean—”

“Listen, I’m not here to lecture you, okay? I’m just saying, I know you come home from being with them and feel like shit about yourself, and I don’t want you to feel like shit about yourself.”

You glanced over at him to see his face softer than you were used to.

“You’re pretty frickin’ awesome, kid.”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, I do. So does Sam and everybody else in our family. Jody and Donna love you like their own kid, Claire thinks you’re the best thing that happened, which is pretty high praise coming from her.” He paused. “I know I’m not so good at the whole talking about our feelings thing, but I’m here if you need anything.”

You swallowed. “What if…what if I’m just a crybaby and the stuff my family does is normal?”

“Trust me, kid, that ain’t normal. I’m an expert in not-normal, and your family definitely qualifies.”

You snorted, grabbing his beer and taking a mouthful.

“Hey!” he cried.

“Sharing is caring.”

“Okay, then, you won’t mind if I do this.” He stuck his tongue out and leaned towards your applesauce.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his face. “Back off, Winchester.”

He smiled. “There’s the smile.” He surprised you by reaching out and rubbing your back. “Glad to have you home, kid. If you need anything, you know where to find me.” He yawned, chugging the rest of his beer and heading towards the door. He ruffled your hair before making his way out of the kitchen, the beer bottle crashing against the others in the trash can on his way out.

~~~

It had been a few weeks since the disaster that was Thanksgiving dinner with your family. You tossed and turned in your bed fitfully as you thought about the text your mother had sent you just a few hours ago: We want you to sleep over Christmas Eve, so we can all be together Christmas morning to open gifts like we used to when you were little. When you asked if anyone else was sleeping over, she’d merely said she didn’t know, but if they didn’t, we can always have some mother-child bonding time. You shuddered at the thought.

Eventually, you fell asleep sometime around two in the morning. Not even an hour later, you bolted upright in bed, sweating and panting. You’d dreamed Sam and Dean had finally had enough of you and kicked you out of the bunker. Before you’d even been able to blink, Castiel had transported you and your belongings to your parents’ house, where your mom hadn’t even given you space to breathe. When you tried to explain you just wanted to be alone for a little while to grieve your relationship with the Winchesters, she’d gone off on you, even going so far as to chain you to the kitchen table leg while laughing maniacally. You’d tried to call out to your dad for help, but he just shrugged, saying he didn’t see what was abnormal about the situation and how you should be more “grateful” to your mother.

You clutched the blanket beneath you and frantically looked around your room. You were in the bunker with the Winchesters, and you were safe.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you found your feet carrying you to Dean’s bedroom door. You hesitated. It was three in the morning. Dean needed all the sleep he could get. However, something in you pulled you to slowly crack his door and peek through. The light from the hallway shone on his sleeping face. His mouth ajar with soft snores pouring out, his hair sticking every which way and his long lashes brushing his cheek made it hard for you to pull yourself away. He stirred and frowned before rolling over away from the light. You quickly backed out of the doorway, closing it shut behind you quietly.

You fell against the wall, hiding your face in your hands as you took a shaky breath. You were enough of a burden. You didn’t need to give them a reason to really kick you out. You loved Sam and Cas like brothers and Dean…after years hunting with him, you’d come to really be in love with him. You couldn’t ruin things by letting your heart get in the way of your head. He wouldn’t feel the same, things would get awkward and then you really would have to leave the bunker—

“Y/N?”

You jumped, looking up to meet Dean’s eyes. You hadn’t even heard him come out of his room. He looked even more adorable as he rubbed some sleep from his eye, his hair full hedgehog-mode, making your heart ache even more. You couldn’t help but glance down at the way his boxers hugged his hips, butt and…other things. You quickly looked away, sniffling as something wet ran down your nose. You hadn’t even realized you’d been crying.

Before you could reach up to wipe them away, Dean gently turned you to face him. His hands rose, hesitating in midair as he stared at you. You were surprised by the slight fear you saw there. When you made no move to pull away, the rough pads of his thumbs gently wiped the tears from your cheeks. You bit your lip as you felt more tears forming before collapsing against his chest. You hugged his middle tightly as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close and burying his face in your hair. After a few minutes, you felt his fingers gently massaging your head, his fingers carding through the soft strands. You melted against him.

You stayed like that for several more minutes before he pulled away, his hand gently running down your arm to grab your hand. “Come on,” he mumbled, tugging you gently towards his bed.

You paused next to his bed, feeling awkward as you watched him climb under the covers. He threw the covers next to him back and patted the empty side of the mattress. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

Your heart leaped at the nickname. It wasn’t like he’d never used it before, but this felt different. He was using it to invite you into his bed. But not like that, you told yourself, he’d never invite you in like that. You glanced at his open arms before quickly accepting the invitation, settling your head against his chest and falling into a peaceful sleep with his heartbeat thumping in your ear and a hand gently massaging your scalp.

~~~

A rough pounding on your door woke you up. You jolted awake, looking at the clock on your nightstand to see it read eight in the morning.

“Up and at ’em!” Dean’s voice called from the other side of the door. You smiled at the childlike excitement evident in his voice. With the support of the two brothers, you’d been able to find the strength to tell your mom that you wouldn’t be sleeping over for Christmas. Instead, the Winchesters had insisted they take the week off and you, the brothers and Cas would celebrate Christmas together. She’d thrown a fit about and tried to call you multiple times, eventually causing Sam to block her once she started calling him nonstop as well. You’d almost picked up multiple times, but Dean had been your rock throughout the entire situation. He’d rarely left your side the past few weeks and had slowly started becoming more physically affectionate, making you wonder if maybe he did feel something for you. He always made you feel better, but the past few weeks, it had seemed like his mission to make you feel like you were on top of the world: buying all your favorite foods on supply runs, marathoning movies with you and even insisting you start spending the night in each other’s rooms more often. Although it was usually his room. Who could resist that memory foam mattress (and how everything smelled like him, but of course you didn’t tell him about that part)? One night that was particularly bad, Dean had even had a dance party with you in the kitchen—music provided by Metallica, of course.

You swung your legs out of bed and threw your bedroom door open as his knocking became more intense. He had a stupid grin plastered across his face that you couldn’t help but mirror. He was practically vibrating in excitement.

“Well, someone’s excited,” you laughed.

“You kiddin’? You know when the last time we actually celebrated Christmas was?”

Your smile became wider, if that was possible, as he grabbed your hand and tugged you towards the man-cave, which had apparently been decorated, but you’d been forbidden from stepping foot in there. Dean said he wanted it to be a surprise.

“Cas, we’re coming in!” Dean yelled before skidding to a halt with you in the doorway. His face fell and you burst out laughing at the scene in front of you. “Cas, when Sam suggested ‘simple banners,’ I don’t think this is what he meant…”

Cas tilted his head in confusion, still holding onto one of the many plain white banners with the words “Merry Christmas” typed on it in large Times New Roman font. Although it looked ridiculously out of place next to the lights hung up on the walls and the Christmas tree groaning with the weight of too many ornaments on its branches, a small model Impala on the top in lieu of a star, it was 100% Cas. “Is this not satisfactory?”

You tried to contain your laughter. Dean ran a hand down his face in frustration as you said, “No, it’s great, Cas.”

Sam appeared behind you with two mugs of coffee in his hand. “You’d think I’d remember how literal he takes everything by now.” He handed you and Dean the mugs before helping Cas hang the final few banners.

You sipped your coffee, your eyes growing wide as you noticed all the presents under the tree. You recognized the wrapping paper you had used for the gifts you purchased for the boys, but the pile with your name on it was a little bigger than you expected.

As everyone sat around laughing, talking and opening presents—and of course, roasting each other—you were in Heaven. This was the most stress-free Christmas you’d ever had. Sam had gotten you several books you’d been wanting to read, Cas had gotten you some cozy PJs and some more coffee mugs and thermoses, and now only the presents Dean had gotten for you lay unopened. There was an uncharacteristic shyness in Dean’s smile as he pushed them towards you. You gave him a reassuring smile back as you ripped the wrapping paper away.

He chuckled at your noise of excitement as you opened the bag of your favorite candy, shoving several in your mouth. The second present contained the complete box set of your favorite TV show. But the third was what really got to you: a small framed bulletin board full of pictures of you and the Winchesters. Pictures of you and Dean together dominated the board and the word “family” was written across the top and bottom of the frame.

You felt your eyes fill with tears and looked up to see Sam and Cas had disappeared, leaving you and Dean alone sitting by the Christmas tree. “Did you make this?”

Dean nodded. “I know your family kinda sucks, so I thought you could use a reminder that you’ve always got a family here with us. I know you don’t wanna go no-contact and if you never do, me, Sam and Cas will support you. But I just thought you could use a reminder that you’ve got a family who thinks you’re pretty damn awesome just the way you are, kid.”

You laughed. “Look at you, getting all chick flick-y.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, his cheeks turning pink as he looked away.

You leaned over to hug him. “Seriously though, thank you. I love it.”

Dean pulled you as close to his chest as he possibly could. “You’re welcome, kid.” He adjusted his legs beneath you as he pulled you into his lap, burying his face in your hair. It had become your new way to hug.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, just enjoying the feeling of being in Dean’s arms, but a crash from the kitchen made you jump. Cas’s voice carried from the kitchen, “Sam, somehow I don’t think this is the customary way to make pancakes.”

Dean groaned and you giggled just as you turned your head to look at him. He turned his head at the same time and you froze as your lips brushed against his. The two of you stared at each other with wide eyes for a moment, and you couldn’t help glancing at his full lips. You yanked your eyes back up to meet Dean’s green orbs to find him staring at your lips as well. Wait, did he—

“Fuck it,” he mumbled before crashing his lips into yours.

You made a noise of surprise and tensed. If there was anything you were expecting from Christmas morning, it certainly wasn’t this. You were frozen in shock and after a minute, Dean tensed beneath you as well. Afraid he would misread the situation and pull away, you relaxed in Dean’s arms, your hand going to the back of his short hair and scratching his scalp with the blunt ends of your nails. He relaxed in turn and let his hands wander all over your body. You leaned into him, unsure how you’d enjoyed anyone else’s kisses up until now. You always knew Dean was a ladies’ man and was probably a good kisser, but now realized how your imagination paled in comparison. “You’re gorgeous,” he mumbled in between kisses.

Just as his tongue gently ran over your bottom lip as he pulled you impossibly closer, his hands making their way to cup your ass, Sam’s voice boomed behind you, “About damn time!”

You jumped and pulled away to see the younger Winchester with an annoyed but amused grin on his face in the doorway.

Dean cleared his throat, moving his hands back up to your hips. “A little privacy, Sammy?”

Sam’s face fell. “Um, so the pancakes kind of exploded…”

“What?” Dean cried as you howled with laughter. “How the hell do you make pancakes explode, Sam?!”

“Cas did it!”

“That is an inaccurate statement!” Cas yelled from the kitchen.

Tears leaked out of your eyes from laughter as Dean groaned and buried his face in your shoulder.

“I’ll just—go—clean things…” you heard Sam sprint back down the hallway.

Dean sighed. “All right, let’s go teach Dumb and Dumber how to cook without destroying the bunker.”

Before he could move, you rubbed your nails across the back of his neck one more time. He immediately relaxed at the action. “Dean, seriously, thank you.”

He smiled. “You just seemed to have such a shitty Thanksgiving, I wanted to make sure Christmas was awesome.”

“It was the best I’ve ever had.”

He kissed you again, leaning towards you as you started to pull away. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

You beamed. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

#dean x reader #supernatural #supernatural imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #dean x non-descript reader #holiday fluff #tw: abusive family #tw: self-deprecating thoughts #tw: self-hatred #trigger warning

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oh-law-d-he-comin · 5 years

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DECK Prompts, Day 6

((CW: Blood, non-explicit gore))

“...Stabbing, strangulation, bludgeoning, crushing…”

How should he explain it? Law’s been chasing freedom his whole life, the kind that verges into chaos, madness, a breakdown of all that's logical and structured. And in a way, despair… is freeing. Calamity! Anarchy! Every man for himself! Death reigns in the streets, and a stable mind has no place, and even the emotions that used to define him can't cage him, and to the former SHSL Coroner it is a sight as beautiful as an ocean at sunrise, or the springtime cherry blossoms in full bloom.

“...hacking, ignition, drowning, cleaving…”

Suddenly in a fantastic mood for no reason, Law starts laughing, a carefree sound that echoes back and forth through the empty main street. At his feet rolls the severed head of some poor sap, which he kicks across the sidewalk as one might an empty soda can. Did you know? Soccer was originally played with the decapitated heads of criminals!

“He shoots, the ball flies, he doesn't score! Alas, thus is the folly of a non-sportsman, better luck next time.” He's never been good at soccer, and his shot misses the garage it was aimed at by a mile, setting off the laughter again like a broken child’s toy. There's still plenty of corpses lying about, though, and he goes back to dancing around them, humming along to the guesses he makes as to how they croaked. Each puddle of red, every splash of color against a wall, every snail trail of darkened blood, like pieces to a neverending series of puzzles, and he does like puzzles, even if if they're a little too easy.

“...suffocation, electrocution, explosion, implosion…”

Up ahead, a silhouette. Two silhouettes? One's on the ground, typical of the human shapes he sees around here, but the other, the other one's upright. A person! Now social interaction, that's something he's been wanting for in this desolate city.

As Law draws near, the shadows coalesce into a dead body, nothing new—oh, but the red strewn across it is still bright, still beautiful, his favorite color—and a young man staring down at it with disgust and fear painted on his face. What an expression! How fun! Law’s got to slap his cheeks to keep his smile from twisting into something monstrous and mocking, as he sneaks up behind the man and taps him on the shoulder.

“...falling, impaling, poison, mangling…”

“Hello! Hi! Nice to meet you!” he chirps brightly, laughing with an equally innocent tone when the man leaps back, hands held out in a defensive stance.

“Wh- where did you come from?! Who are you?!” He's patting himself down as if in search of a weapon, but Law ignores the alarm in favor of examining the body.

“My name's Law, Law K. Kiyuu, nice to meet you again and isn't it lonely around here? God, you're the first person I've met in a week, except for the stiffs, and they don't have much in the way of conversation! Speaking of which, hello Mr. Mortis, aren't you something…” He leans down and prods its arm with a questioning hum, letting go with a start when the entire hand falls off. “Oh, oh my, knife wounds ‘round the whole torso, stabs through the wrists, is that words carved into the forehead? I'm sorry to break it to you, still-alive guy, someone's really done a number on your buddy—it's really doubtful he'll recover from being dead!”

“I, I just found it just now, I didn't do anything to it, I swear…” The man warily lowers his absence of weapon, shuffling a little back towards Law before he freezes. “Wait, how do you know- did you-?”

Laughter meets uncertainty yet again, as Law crouches down and lifts the dead man’s head into his lap, brushing hair matted with blood away from the face. “No sir, I'm innocent, I swear- it's just back when civilization was a thing, I worked as a coroner. You know, the guy who shows up with the cops and tells you how the deceased, well, deceasified? Not anymore, of course, nobody's gonna pay a kid to identify the dead when they're outnumbering the living, but that's how!” He pauses, looking down at the head with something that could easily be mistaken for pity, or sorrow, or sympathy.

“Look at that,” he whispers. “Gunshot right through the brain stem, that's what did ‘im in. Oh no, oh my, oh gosh, and here I thought it was the cuts, that's why they don't hire me anymore, oh jeez.”

The man leans down, worry for that suddenly downtrodden look outweighing discomfort towards the boy naturally cradling a corpse’s face. “You're right, that's horrible… he might have lived if they hadn't done that…”

“...blunt force, blood loss, gunshot, shock…”

“I know, right? Why ruin a perfectly good ritual sacrifice?”

All too late, the young man looks properly into Law’s eyes. Swirling in their depths is something no person in their right mind could have, the jet black whirlpool of despair reserved only for those who have fallen from the top of the world to the lowest rungs of humanity. All too late, he recognizes the boy’s expression for what it was: disappointment.

“Vertical cuts! Strange markings written into flesh! Symbolic stabs!” Law yanks the head up, showing off innumerable gashes as the body falls apart around them. “More literary symbolism than an English teacher convention in the library of Alexandria,” he exclaims, jabbing a finger at each of the wounds. “A simply fantastic display, absolutely gorgeous, even if they were a little sloppy looking for the brachial, and what do they do? Chicken out at the last minute and put this poor sack of shit out of its misery, with a gun no less!” Wrath flickers across his face before losing out to a maniacal Cheshire Cat grin, freezing the young man in place with pure shock.

“...infection, parasitism, asphyxiation, hypothermia…”

“I- you- please-”

“Don't worry.” The former coroner’s smile turns soft for a moment, reassuring, kind. The same unassuming look he introduced himself with. “Their crimes won't go unanswered for, just cuz there's no cops doesn't mean there's no retribution, no sir: I'll show them an example of a proper ritual sacrifice! You'll help me, right, mister? Really, don't worry, I can tell you don't smoke, exercise right, maybe it's a high stress environment but it's recent, you’re perfectly healthy and so is your heart!”

Law laughs one more time, an unsettlingly pure sound, and jabs the man in the chest with his cane. “You'll make a lovely cadaver!”

“...organ failure, overdose, homicide, suicide…”

His handiwork is perfect, mounted on a stake overlooking the rest of the city. Of course it is: they didn't call him an Ultimate for nothing. Not to be a narcissist, obviously…

...but it's beautiful.

“...despair.”

#ooc #blood #prompt week #(hell yeah my favorite prompt)

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hexusproductions · 7 years

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Ladybug, Ladybug, Fly Away Home

Title: Ladybug, Ladybug, Fly Away Home Summary: ...Your house is on fire and your children will burn. Just a little idea I had, exploiting both Sorceress’s frequent nightmares and her animosity towards the Scarecrow Author’s Note: IT’S TIME FOR SOME ANGST KIDDIES *Laughs maniacally as thunder and lightning boom behind me*

Crane’s hideout was dark. And clean, surprisingly.

Sorceress stood with her elbows resting on the counter, head down and expression twisted into a grimace.

She could still see images swirling around in her head, along with a few disjointed sounds, and she bit her lip to fight back the emotions welling up and threatening to spill again.

“What are you doing up?”

Sorceress’s head jerked up to see Jonathan Crane standing in the entryway to the kitchen, still dressed in his clothes from earlier that day. She quickly stood up and brushed her hair back from her face.

“Couldn’t sleep.” She answered quickly, “You?”

“Insomnia.” Jonathan walked by her, going straight for the cabinet in front of him. Sorceress frowned, but she really didn’t have the energy or the strength to be angry right now.

“Right, right.” Sorceress crossed her arms, looking down at her feet. She zoned out for a minute or two

“No! I didn’t mean it, don’t DO THIS!!”

before she was brought back by the thunk of the mug Jonathan placed on the counter.

“Coffee, or are you planning to go back to your flouncing narcissist upstairs?” He questioned flatly.

“Piss off, Crane.” Sorceress snapped, “We wouldn’t be here if Edward hadn’t been caught again.”

“One would think you and Music Meister don’t prepare.” Jonathan remarked, disinterested as he poured the dark liquid into the mug. Sorceress’s eyes narrowed slightly, quickly feeling her morale coming back.

“You’re lucky I didn’t burn your arse when you first opened the door.”

“Don’t think this is fun for me either. If I didn’t have such an acquaintanceship with Michel I wouldn’t have let you in here in the first place.”

“Well that was your mistake.” Sorceress growled, then glared at him, “I don’t appreciate being tested on.” Jonathan rolled his eyes.

“Everyone I’ve met has been injected or tested on at some point or another. You were one of the many with daddy issues, if I remember correctly.”

“Oh you really are an idiot.” Sorceress snapped, whirling around, and Crane placed the pot down harshly with a loud clatter as he turned to her.

“Do not test me, child.” He warned her, “I have allowed you to stay out of what little goodness remains of my heart but I will not hesitate to leave you and your pompous boyfriend out for the Bat if you continue to insult my generous hospitality.” Sorceress’s eyes narrowed again, but the threat towards Meister and the cold look in Crane’s eye washed away whatever anger she had managed to summon and replaced it with the images again.

Sorceress swallowed and stepped back, turning her back to him to hold a hand over her face.

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry-

“Sorceress?”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, shuddered, and released a shaky breath before shaking her head.

“I really need a fucking drink.” Sorceress remarked and turned to the cabinets. Jonathan didn’t say a word, watching attentively as she rummaged through until she found a few bottles hiding in the back of one cupboard. Sorceress scowled as she had to reach extremely far, tiptoed on one foot, before she was finally able to pull the bottle down.

“Don’t give me that look,” Sorceress told him as she placed the bottle on the counter, “You beat Lynns in a drinking contest.”

“Yes, yes I did.” Jonathan nodded, hiding his smile behind his mug as he sipped from it. Sorceress poured the liquor into the glass, sculling it and pouring another one.

“What did he say?”

“Excuse me?” Sorceress questioned, and Jonathan gestured to the glass.

“Alcohol is known for being an adequate distraction, and in all my years I have never known you to not sleep through the night like a dead woman.” He explained. Sorceress looked back to the counter, avoiding his gaze and thumbing the glass.

“Can’t somethin’ be different for one night?”

“Your accent is more prominent.”

“Mate if you don’t drop it I swear-“

“What are you really doing down here Sorceress?” Jonathan spoke over her, and Sorceress stopped. He waited, expectant but clearly not stupid.

“I told you Crane, I couldn’t sleep.”

“And I wanted to admire the scenery of Gotham’s nightlife.” Jonathan replied sarcastically. Sorceress didn’t say anything, sipping slowly from her glass.

“Sorceress…” Jonathan prompted. She was quiet for another moment, closing her eyes.

“I had a nightmare.” She finally admitted, barely muttering it under her breath. Jonathan nodded calmly.

“And do you get these nightmares often?” He asked, and Sorceress hesitantly nodded again.

This was gonna come back to bite her in the ass in the morning, she just knew it.

Jonathan made a little ‘huh’ sound in his throat, and drank from his coffee mug again. Sorceress frowned at the counter as he remained silent, saying nothing regarding this new little ‘vulnerability’ about her for him to exploit. Asshole.

“And are they the usual nightmares of falling or being chased, or something different?” He finally pondered, and Sorceress glanced at him.

“I ain’t talkin’ about this with you.”

“Well considering your beloved maestro is not down here right now coddling you, I assume there isn’t anyone else that you can.”

Sorceress looked at Jonathan, but didn’t say anything.

She didn’t like all this silence. It made her feel guilty, like everything else that had happened during the night. But then again she’d wanted to kick Jonathan Crane’s ass ever since he’d strapped her to a cold table, and she didn’t trust the twiggy stick as far as she could throw him.

“You really wanna know?” Sorceress questioned, and Jonathan shrugged.

“It would hurt our friendship if we didn’t confide in one another.” He held a hand over his heart mockingly, and Sorceress swatted his arm with a faint smile.

Asshole.

Sorceress sighed before leaning against the counter, facing him with her glass in her hand.

“Sometimes, yes, they are the normal ‘oh no something’s chasing me’ kind of dreams.” Sorceress explained quietly before shrugging and looking away, “And then there’s…nightmares about murdering my family, or, Michel.” Jonathan looked a little shocked, and Sorceress turned her head away to hold a hand to it again.

Crane was shocked. The Scarecrow thought it was a horrible thing and it was, no one was safe, no one was safe as long as they were around her, no one-

“Oh.”

“No shit Sherlock.” Sorceress snapped, then looked away again as she heard how shaky her voice sounded and the hot tears stinging her eyes again.

“Calm down.” Jonathan’s voice was calm and soothing, “Everyone can occasionally have stress-induced nightmares that are both irrational and implausible, fuelled by their personal fuels and phobias.”

“But this isn’t ‘occasionally’, Crane.” Sorceress replied, spinning around to him again as she gestured frantically, “Several times a week I wake up in bed, soaked through and trying not to cry, because I’ve so vividly seen me holding up a hand towards both Michel and my father and burning them alive!”

She was crying again. Jesus fucking Christ, she was crying again in front of Jonathan Crane.

Sorceress tried to hide it by drinking the rest of the contents of her glass, but it didn’t fool her let alone Crane.

That was it. She was a weak, vulnerable, horrible human being and an absolute train wreck.

“Autophobia, Sorceress.” Jonathan said after she was in control of her breathing again, “I discussed this with you. Although, I did do it while you were still under the influence of the toxin.”

Sorceress tried a glare, but couldn’t manage it.

“I’m not in the best of positions to be pissed off right now, Crane.” Sorceress remarked.

“Yes and no.” Jonathan replied, and then leant forward slightly as he continued, “You, Sorceress, have a crippling phobia of yourself. You have such a dependence on your superhuman powers, and yet fear what you are capable of doing with them.”

“…I really don’t like you.” Sorceress murmured, leaning on the counter again, and Jonathan raised an eyebrow.

“Am I wrong?” He invited, leaning over with his body practically pressed against the counter so he was in Sorceress’s sight. Damn him for being so tall.

“I’m not afraid of what I could do.” Sorceress corrected slowly, then glanced at him, “I’m afraid of what I might do accidently.” Jonathan nodded in understanding, snapping back to his full height it was like someone had triggered a mousetrap.

“Are you going to continue or am I going to do it for you?” Jonathan questioned, and when Sorceress frowned but didn’t answer, he added, “You haven’t used your powers since you came down here.” Sorceress blinked, unaware of that. Yes, usually, she did use her powers every so often in her everyday life. She kinda had to; not using her powers for extended periods of time made them volatile.

“I guess I haven’t.” Sorceress agreed, placing the glass down, “Come to think of it I don’t think I usually do after, you know, a nightmare.”

“Exactly.” Jonathan told her, refilling his mug, “Victims tend to stay away from things that could trigger memories of trauma. In your case, however, you’re so dependent that you bottle, or repress, if you will, your trauma so as to use your superpowers again.”

“Are you always this chatty at night?” Sorceress questioned honestly, and he shrugged.

“I’m bored and I can’t sleep.”

Sorceress rolled her eyes, and the two of them were quiet for a moment. Sorceress traced the rim of her glass and bit her lip.

“So what should I do about it?” She asked quietly.

“You’re asking me?” Jonathan asked sceptically, “Five minutes ago you were threatening to set me on fire.”

“I threaten everyone.” Sorceress waved it away with no energy in the gesture, “It’s one of my more appealing attributes.”

“As opposed to psychosomatic dreams of killing loved ones.” Jonathan remarked, and Sorceress glared.

“I stopped threatening to kill you and now you’re trying to make me start again.” Sorceress placed her hand sharply on the counter, “You gonna help me or not, doctor?” Jonathan observed Sorceress for a moment, then carefully took the glass in her hand away from her.

“My first suggestion would be to stop internalising your insecurities.” Jonathan paused to drink what was left in her glass, and Sorceress’s jaw opened slightly in surprise while trying to stop a smile at the same time, “Be honest with Forte, for a start, that you have fears that he may be unsafe around you.”

“I have.” Sorceress reasoned, voice flat, “He always tells me that he trusts me and that I would never hurt him and blah blah blah…” Sorceress looked at her hand, slowly moving her fingers as if testing something unseen surrounding them.

“It took me so long to get it under control just by this much, Crane.” Sorceress continued, still looking at her fingers, “All it takes is just a really bad fight, maybe even a misfired fireball in the heat of a battle, and fwoosh, the only person that truly accepts me is gone.” Jonathan considered what she said, then looked at her.

“Do you really believe that could happen?”

“You’ve tried to look in my head, Crane. You know I’m scared enough of it for it to be true.”

Sorceress looked at Jonathan, and he placed her empty glass in the sink before turning back to her.

“Implausible nightmares are just that, Sorceress. Implausible. They can’t happen.” Jonathan smirked and flicked her forehead, causing her to flinch, “Many phobias are simply irrational things that set themselves in the corners of our minds.” Sorceress rubbed her forehead before smirking and punching his shoulder lightly.

“Thanks, Jon.” She smiled as she turned, “You should be a psychiatrist.” Jonathan frowned and his eyes narrowed slightly, and Sorceress laughed as she walked towards the stairs that led back up to the second floor. Jonathan brought the mug back to his lips.

“Asshole.” Jonathan murmured. Sorceress smiled.

Just the way she liked it.

#Jonathan Crane #Scarecrow #Sorceress #OC #Music Meister #maestro of villainy #Michel Forte #fanfiction

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someguyranting1 · 7 years

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Maybe you get bad customer service because you’re a bad customer

I could have taken a picture of you and posted it here to publicly shame you, but I didn’t. That’s because I am not trying to be vindictive. I’d merely like to answer that question you posed.

See, I was in line at that particular fast food establishment today. You probably didn’t notice me. In fact, I assume you didn’t notice any of us from the way you blatantly barged to the front. I was about to tap you on the shoulder and politely explain how lines are supposed to work in a civilized society, but I could tell you were in the throes of an ungodly rage. I figured this must be an emergency. My god, you were practically foaming at the mouth. I thought maybe someone at the counter had killed your dog, or framed you for a murder you didn’t commit, or urinated in your oatmeal this morning. Obviously something serious was going on.

Then you suddenly screamed, “NO ketchup! I said NO ketchup!”

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t a dire situation. It was a condiment situation. Not exactly life or death, but close enough, I guess. The girl at the cash register looked confused. I don’t blame her, some irate middle aged woman just barreled in the door yelling about ketchup. She asked you for some clarification, which was reasonable, but apparently you didn’t think so.

“What’s wrong with you people?! I just sat in the drive thru for ten minutes and now I have to come in here because you guys can’t understand fucking English! I ordered this burger with NO ketchup but of course I get it with gobs of ketchup. Unbelievable. This happens every fucking time!”

Wait, it’s unbelievable yet it happens every time? Hmm. And your ketchup specifications are this important to you, yet you continually come to the one place in town that apparently has a ketchup obsession? There are literally six other fast food joints within a two mile radius, but here you are at the one place that screws up your order “every fucking time.” Interesting. Logical thinking isn’t exactly your forte, is it?

The poor girl at the counter, who likely had no hand in this ketchup fiasco, offered to give you a new burger, plain and dry, just as you prefer. But that wasn’t good enough, was it? Their failure to obey your demands must be punished.

“No, I don’t want a new burger. Give me your name and the number to corporate. I’m sick of this shit. Give me my money back and the number to your corporate office! Why can’t I ever fucking get good customer service?!”

And the exchange went on from there. You, of course, handled yourself like a woman of culture and dignity, while the fast food employee and her manager tried everything to find a remedy for the “Tragic Ketchup Calamity.” It ended with you promising to get them all fired as you stormed out. Then I finally had my turn at the counter. I ordered a burger. With extra ketchup.

Now, I replay this back to you because I realize you probably scream profanities at minimum wage customer service representatives every time you run an errand or grab a bite to eat, so you might not recall the specifics of this one incident. And that brings us to the possible answer to that query you posed in the midst of your ketchup rant. You asked: “Why can’t I ever fucking get good customer service?” Well, that might have something to do with you being a vulgar, miserable, malicious person. Maybe you get bad customer service because you’re a bad customer. Did you ever consider that possibility?

I get it. “You’re the customer so you’re always right.” They work here so they have to bend over backwards for you “because that’s their job.” Well, you’re partially correct about that. Yes, you are a customer and, yes, they do work here. But it’s actually not their job to deal with psychopaths. They aren’t hostage negotiators, they’re fast food workers. And even if the powers that be at these corporate chains push this “customer is always right” crap because they’ve decided it’s good business to placate horrible jerks, in the real world, outside the land of plastic chairs and soda fountains, adults who throw temper tantrums in public are never right about anything.

I’m sure some people might take your side. They might come to your defense by telling their own horror stories about all the times when customer service has failed to live up to their standards. Those folks are under the same delusion as you. They think their hallowed “customer” status somehow gives them the right to treat everyone with a uniform and a name tag like garbage. They think their past encounters with sub-par service makes it acceptable for them to fly off the handle about ketchup every once in a while. They think the rules of basic decency and respect come second when they are “The Customer.” And they’re wrong.

Do you ever wonder why we have so many atrocious politicians? Well, you shouldn’t wonder. Just look in the mirror. Bad politicians are generally bad because they can’t handle power. It goes right to their head and they become narcissistic, petty, controlling sociopaths. But at least it’s a lot of power so the temptation to be corrupted by it is almost understandable. You, on the other hand, become a maniacal tyrant when society hands you temporary and meaningless power over 17-year-old fast food cashiers. I shudder to think what you’d do if you had an army at your disposal.

We all get a little unwanted ketchup every now and again, and we are all expected to handle it like mature and decent adults. Some of us manage to make it through our whole lives without ever feeling the need to berate restaurant or retail employees over some small and fixable mistake. Other folks, such as yourself, seem to get into a customer service battle royale every time they step outside their house. Maybe it’s because the universe is against you guys. Or maybe — just maybe — it’s because you behave like selfish obnoxious bullies.

Just something to think about.

Oh, and I’m betting you actually forgot to say “no ketchup” when you placed your original order. Wouldn’t that be a totally expected twist to this captivating saga?

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theworstbob · 7 years

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yellin’ at songs: 1997, part two

the songs which debuted on the billboard hot 100 between 3.15.1997 and 5.10.1997. 2/3 of the way there! i’ma try to get weeks 19-27 done by monday so we can cover weeks 28 and 29 of all three of 97/07/17 on wednesday, then resume posting as usual from there. i’m excited!

3.15.1997

9) "For You I Will," by Monica

this was ok, i guess. it's a stirring pitch to the boy, but i can also understand why the boy would still give brandy consideration after hearing this. the boy probably thinks monica doth insist too much. like, she promises to be the sun. she can't do that! monica's a star, but not a REAL star, just a famous person! the boy has reason to be dubious of monica's claims. no reason to be dubious of the key change, tho. hey remember key changes? remember when we used to like songs that were dynamic and didn't just bleep and bloop for three minutes? good times.

22) "Step by Step," by Whitney Houston

The YouTube recommendation bar just pulled up a bunch of Whitney Houston songs, and I'm not gonna lie, I'd much rather dip into that than find out what Zhane is. This is probably a second-tier Whitney song, insofar as I have any grasp of the ins-and-outs of the Whitney catalogue, but second-tier Whitney is still amazing. Like, you know how "Lose My Breath" is definitely one of the five-best songs from the expanded Beyonce universe, even though no one ever thinks about it? This is Whitney's "Lose My Breath" for me. I just wanna put this and "Return of the Mack" on repeat for a thousand years and die happy.

35) "Head Over Heels," by Allure ft./Nas

It's weird to hear Nas on a pop song. Like, Nas operated in the same space where someone like Vince Staples or Killer Mike currently operates, I always thought; clearly elite, but elite in a way not friendly with the mainstream. Illmatic didn't sound like something that'd get a dude on a pop song. Not that I'm angry Nas got that paper, it's just weird, like it'd be weird if Killer Mike suddenly collaborated with Calvin Harris. Also, girl group hype. This is a song that was playing while I was thinking about other things and I think I would've enjoyed it if I wasn't ignoring it, but at the same time, I don't believe in second impressions.

51) "Request Line," by Zhane

...Zhane, that was unfair, that thing I said about you two paragraphs ago. I am so glad to have found out about you. This song only has a peak of 39. I am comfortable declaring this the forgotten classic of 1997 so far. It references calling people over a phone line, which is so delightfuly antiquated, it references a 555 number which is a classic, and it implies that at one point you had to call a radio station to request a song rather than being able to access every song all at once on demand. All wonderful 1997 things, backed with a solid groove. This song is dope. I'm going to call into my local radio station RIGHT NOW and request that they play this!

76) "Too Late, Too Soon," by Jon Secada

imagine turning the radio on in 1997 and hearing this and keeping this song on because trying to tune the dial to a new station just to avoid this song wouldn't be worth the effort. i thought i wouldn't get michael bolton? i thought his whole thing was just an early-'90s thing, something akward between the grunge and the rap? i feel cheated, honestly. i shouldn't have had to listen to clay aiken in 1997.

79) "I Belong to You (Every Time I See Your Face)," by Rome

This dude's ad-libs are basically Young Thug mouthnoises. I'm into it. It's generic, but dude goes hard trying to sell this song, and I respect that hustle.

81) "Hip-Hopera," by Bounty Killa ft./The Fugees

LAURYN HILL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't even care that the rest of this song is just Bounty Killa saying things with a heavy accent that never actually justifies being called "Hip-Hopera" aside from some falsetto in the hook. Like, you wanna be a hip-hopera? Bring the drama. Can't just have the fat lady sing, you need to emote like your life depended on it, PROJECT, make something more over the top than this, but legit Lauryn Hill on the mic for even half a minute is a good thing, and this song at least had the good sense to put her at the top of this song so that, if you want to hear her verse again, you don't have to sift through a bunch of nothing.

91) "Weekend Thang," by Alfonzo Hunter

This is the second R&B slow jam about infidelity this week, and while it's superior, I wonder if people got as tired of dudes singing R&B in 1997 as I am of bro country in 2017? Like, the thing R&B dudes have over country dudes is, I can easily distinct Alfonzo Hunter from Rome. Rome was making all sorts of noises in his song, and Alfonzo Hunter is smoother, more confident. I can't tell you any meaningful difference between Chase Pickens and Ricky Graves, and you probably didn't realize those were fake names, because country dudes are interchangable. Listen, 1997 has been wonderfully bereft of country dudes, but the only thing I know how to do is complain about country dudes, SO I HAD TO SHOEHORN THIS IN SOMEWHERE, point is, R&B slow jamz all at least have some variety, and I'm not tired of them yet.

3.22.1997

22) "Ghetto Love," by Da Brat ft./T-Boz

"You laid pipe unlike any other plumber/Took me shoppin' all day and at night you kept me cummin'/Made dinner, collard greens, candied yams, and steak/Taught me how to measure grams, cook rocks, and chop weights" This song is incredible. Like, I grew up in a family adjacent to white trash; if anyone in the family smokes meth, it might not be surprising?, but it would definitely be news to me. So I don't know what it's like to settle in for a nice steak dinner, then sit down with my lover and learn how to manufacture and distribute crack cocaine. My girl and I would just play Mario Kart. This is a love unlike anything I could ever know, and I am glad to have heard tell of it. Also, "you laid pipe unlike any other plumber." That is a lyric!

34) "I Shot the Sheriff," by Warren G

...I want to applaud the social commentary? But at the same time, no, don't touch this song. This song was already very good, it didn't need you trying to muck it all up with your signature, just let it be. You can allude to this song in a better song about fighting back against the police, but don't just like do the song, it's not pleasant to listen to this song when it's not this song.

71) "Silent All These Years," by Tori Amos

One of the auto-complete results when I searched "silent all" was "silent all these years karaoke" and I want to meet the absolute fucking maniac who would ruin a karaoke night with this song and give them a stern lecture about the utility of fun. This is not a karaoke song. Even if this WERE a karaoke song, there's no way you have the verses memorized. There's too many words. You are going to stumble all over the verses and it’s going to suck for everyone in the bar to hear. You’re going to ruin five minutes of everyone’s lives, be responsible with your fucking choices. Like karaoke is not about communicating the deep inner pain with which Tori Amos helped you get in touch, what kind of horrible narcissist is singing Tori Amos songs at karaoke. I DID NOT FORCE MYSELF TO LOG OFF TUMBLR, PUT ON PANTS, AND TAKE A BUS TO THE BAR JUST TO HEAR TUMBLR: THE MUSICAL. ...Tori Amos is a quality songwriter and this song is incredibly sad and I am scared of feeling things which is why those other sentences exist.

84) "If Tomorrow Never Comes," by Joose

I found this R&B slow jam lacking because it tried to have A Moment, took some time to try to be a sweeping, epic slow jam, and while I applaud the ambition, it kinda just sounded like a worse version of the pop version of "A Whole New World."

97) "Under the Water," by Merril Bainbridge

this song is just heckin' beautiful. look at that, i'm even usin' "heck" instead of bad words because i don't want to profane this space right now. it's so soft and gentle and i don't want to do anything to ruin this moment i'm having. this i -- OH. OH, HELLO, MAN. alright well fuck all this then where the fuck did this dude come from? this was a pleasant, lovely song, and then goddamn the dude from crash test dummies or w/e shows up and goes "UNDER THE WATER" and it's so jarring. i can't even enjoy this harmonica solo, i feel so betrayed! ...okay, i'm enjoying the harmonica a little bit. the harmonica was as nice a surprise as the dude was a rude one.

3.29.1997

7) "All by Myself," by Celine Dion

These charts are based off single sales and radio plays. It's so weird to consider that people would go out of their way to listen to a Celine Dion ballad in a pre-"My Heart Will Go On" world. Like, "Let it Go" was a top 20(?) hit if I recall correctly, but that was the signature song of a movie loved by teens. What is this. This is just a diva singing dramatically over a piano. People went to stores and either specifically bought this single or said, "Oh! My favorite recording artist, Salon Dijon! I need this like I need these other staples of every day life I have come to Target to purchase!" 1997 has had two Broadway-ish songs on the chart, 2007 had one Broadway-ish song, and 2017 has had zero, if anyone needed quantifiable proof the world was getting worse. (Shout out to Pete Holmes.)

13) "Everyday Is a Winding Road," by Sheryl Crow

Because my first exposure to Sheryl Crow was "Soak Up the Sun," an over-the-top cheery song about beaches that triggers an allergic reaction in my horrible soul, I never really fucked with Sheryl Crow. This is a jam, though. There's more of an edge here than there is in her later stuff. The key is "I get a little bit closer to feeling fine." This isn't a song about someone who is happy and taking life as it comes, this is about someone who's going through shit and hopes to be happy one day. It's like a prototype of "Hard Times," '90s alt-rock chick instead of '80s throwback. This is dope.

33) "One More Time," by Real McCoy

House music! It's been a while. Oh, good, you're rapping. I was hoping to hear someone rap in their second language. God damn you. YouTube Comments Under Shitty Dance Music, Vol. II "I might have one of the largest collections of Real McCoy CD's in the world. :-)" Real McCoy released four albums. Congratulations on having bought four items. That's not a collection, unless Real McCoy has been making other horrible music over the last 20 years.

42) "Your Woman," by White Town

/someone in 1997 hears this song /they franticaly scramble to their kitchen and dial numbers on a corded phone /someone answers Twenty-One! Twenty-One, it's your cousin Marvin! Marvin Pilots! You know that incomprehensible fake-hip-hop sound you've been looking for? WELL, LISTEN TO THIS! /Marvin Pilots holds the phone as near to his bedroom as he can No but seriously this is a goddamned Twenty-One Pilots song, this is amazing, this must be what it felt like when anthropologists or whatever discovered that da Vinci invented airplanes. Like, look! This always existed! This song is more interesting than this dumb joke, but it's also important to point out the similarities. Also: this dude released an album called Don't Mention the War. I like this dude. He seems like good people.

52) "You Don't Have to Hurt No More," by Mint Condition

"This house is not a home." This song is the most unbelievable thing I've heard so far because it is set in a world where single people own houses.

56) "I Don't Want To," by Toni Braxton

Look, you probably already knew this about me, but I find it hard to believe any dramatic tension that gets built by dangling a preposition. Like, I know you're gonna finish that sentence, it would be rude to just leave that "to" hanging in the middle. Clickbait titles could be so simplistic in 1997, though, because we hadn't been inured to all the tricks. We may think we know better than this song title, but back in 1997, people were screaming at the album cover, "don't want to what? DON'T WANT TO WHAT?" People who didn't have access to the single held weekly meetings to share their fan theories about what Toni Braxton didn't want to, one of the earliest online fan forums was built by people wringing their hands over what Toni Braxton didn't want to. People need to work to rook us in 2017, but in 1997, all it took was a sentence left unfinished. (The official YAS verdict on this song is that it is boring and I was bored by it.)

65) "Sho Nuff," by Tela ft./Eightball & MJG

This strip club anthem has maybe the most evocative storytelling any strip club anthem has ever had. It's about a young man who comes back to his hometown after spending time wherever it was he spent time, and discovering girls he used to know became strippers. "I remember this ho, she used to do nails for Rochelle's" is such a delightful detail, the way he specifies not just what she used to do but where she did it being something straight out of a country song. Is it followed by "You heard me! Push these thirty dicks inside your clit?" Well, not immediately, but yes, those words do occupy the same space, but when it isn't exceedingly gross, there's a lot of homey charm in this song.

80) "For You," by Kenny Lattimore

The description for this song claims this is "the only song you should get married to." The first line of this song is "For you, I'd give a lifetime of stability." Oh, yeah, baby girl, if you're looking for a man who'll settle for an office job if this music thing doesn't work out, I'm that guy. When you're ready to accept Wednesday nights spent bickering over what to watch on Netflix while we wait for the Chinese food to get here, you have my number. I'm that man who can drive a Camry and won't talk about his fantasy football team... because he knows it bores you. I'm waiting for you to decide to want this. "For you, I'd make a promise of fidelity." It worries me you waited until your wedding day to make this promise, Ken. That should have just gone without saying! Why would you bring that up now?

92) "Bill," by Peggy Scott-Adams

OH MY FUCKING GOODNESS. I. I was expecting a lot from 1997. I don't think I could have ever expected this song to exist in the way it exists. It's a dynamo vocal performance of a deeply silly and probably slightly offensive song. I don't want to say too much because this is a song which could legitimately be spoiled, but like listen to it. You probably won't be disappointed.

94) "Insomnia," by Faithless

this song is at once the class of 1997's dark dance music, and it also features a vocal performance that's way too low-energy to be rap but is too high energy to be spoken word so i guess i have to call it rapping? but like if you're rapping, and i can reasonably state that Egoraptor is a better rapper than you, are you really rapping? anyway heck europe.

4.5.1997

67) "Precious Declaration," by Collective Soul

Sometimes in 2017, Imagine Dragons will break through the trap and release a song that charts, and I'll react to it with baffled indifference; I don't care, but at the same time, I don't get why people who ostensibly enjoy rock music would listen to Imagine Dragons. I get the same sense listening to this Collective Soul song. Like, it didn't ruin my day, but is this really the best you could do? If you like alternative rock, why on earth are you listening to Collective Soul? The Verve Pipe has other songs! They're not as good as "The Freshmen" but better than this!

81) "A Little Bit of Ecstacy," by Jocelyn Enriquez

"Tee hee! The casual observer will think I am singing about feeling happy, when I actually am singing about doing drugs and having sex! What a trickster I am!" Dance music is bad and everyone who listened to it has the wrong idea about everything. We're not even out of the third month. There is more to come, and I already blew the “this entire genre is garbage” shot. Oh, dear.

94) "One Night at a Time," by George Strait

Our first country dude of 1997! And it's not just some random country dude, it's The Possum, singing an OK song about how nice being in love is and how much effort maintaining a healthy relationship requires! Nothing special, but pleasant, especially since it's not surrounded by fifty other songs by dudes in the same hat with the same voice. This constitutes a break from the onslaught of R&B dudes, is not part of its own separate slog. I appreciate the commitment to diversity, 1997. (Diversity in genre if not in gender, I guess. Not as bad as 2017, I don't think, but, hey, we all could be doing better.)

95) "Step Into a World (Rapture's Delight)," by KRS-One

"I'm not saying I'm number one -- I'm sorry, I lied/I'm number one, two, three, four, and five" That's fucking incredible. Like, one'd be hard-pressed to disagree with KRS-One on that claim after hearing this song. KRS-One occupies the same space as The Roots did from part one, where I understood they were important but hadn't actually made the effort to check them out, and now I see I've been missing out. This dude's incredible. "I'm not run of the mill, 'cuz for the mill I don't run." This is like if Chance the Rapper was good.

98) "That's Right," by DJ Taz ft./Raheem the Dream

remember when the atl wasn't the epicenter of homogeneity and the city housed artists that sounded great without sounding like anything else. what happened. i mean, this song probably isn't the one we want to point to when complaining about the current state of atlanta, not when we got outkast comin' in a couple of songs, but like something this light and breezy and fun isn't the sort of thing atlanta traffics in anymore, and the world is worse for losing this spirt.

4.12.1997

17) "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?" by Paula Cole

One of the best tweets of all time theorizes that "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?" and "The Boys Are Back in Town" are two different perspectives on the same event, and this Paula Cole fan theory will be a part of me until the world burns down. It's a good song, but also it's absolutely ruined for me.

59) "Jazzy Belle," by OutKast

ATLiens is the best OutKast album and the first five tracks ("Two Dope Boys," "ATLiens," "Wheelz of Steel," "Elevators," "Jazzy Belle") might be the best five-track stretch in the whole of hip-hop history and even if I'm not into the remix they released to radio I'm so incredibly into the original that I'm fine with a Xerox. I'm fanboying, and you didn't come here for that, but gosh I do love this song.

75) "Come On," by Billy Lawrence ft./MC Lyte

This song was acceptable. You ever hit a point where you've been listening to songs for two hours and trying to think about them and then you come across two songs you already know your thoughts on so you go "Oh, cool, I can do other things while still listening to these songs so I can say I listened to them" and then you get to a song you're not familiar with but you're still in "doing other things while listening to music" mode? That's what happened. This is a feeling which I am sure is incredibly relatable, as all of us have series where we listen to every pop song ever and post our thoughts about them. I'm sure this song is better than I treated it, and I could just listen to it again but oh no what happened my fingers just typed the next song into the bar and now the music is gone from youtube forever it doesn't exist anymore i can't go back oh no oh nooooooooo

4.19.1997

24) "My Baby Daddy," by B-Rock & The Bizz

...I came into this refreshed. I watched some other videos -- this is the least embarrassing Punk Goes Pop compilation yet! -- took a shower, had some breakfast, I was ready to accept this song into my life. I mean, "My Baby's Mama" had a ridiculous title, but that was more or less acceptable, and I thought this was a response song. That's a lost art, the response song. I don't think we've had a true response song since Frankie's unforgettable classic "Fuck You Right Back," though I haven't listened to "Bodak Yellow" yet. This was... Certainly, an experience I won't forget, but not for lack of trying.

73) "Until I Find You Again," by Richard Marx

In a position where I can see the future, I see "Hypnotize" and "Bitch" dropping next week, and I can kind of understand that 1997 is in the calm before the storm. It's disappointing to endure, for sure, no one ever intends on listening to soft rock, but I'm ten minutes away from thinking about "Hypnotize." I appreciate 1997 for giving me this time to clear my mind and accept "Hypnotize" into my life.

87) "Sweet Sexy Thing," by Nu Flavor ft./Roger Troutman

It wasn't that long ago that we were letting dudes feature on boy band songs despite the fact they were calling themselves Roger Troutman. We can quibble about how good a rap name KYLE is, but at least it's not a pirate fish monster.

93) "Just the Way You Like It," by Tasha Holiday ft/Mase

This is Tasha Holiday's only song that charted on the Hot 100, and it appeared to have only spent one week on the chart, as it never got higher than 93. That has to be weird for an artist. You make a song that's popular enough that it can make the chart and people will upload it to YouTube 20 years later, but at the same time, your song wasn't popular at all and your song has significantly fewer views than "My Babby Dad," which is a song no one put effort into making. You had two celebrated songwriters on the track, and they made a song that someone who listened to an average amount of Top 40 radio might have heard once on "New Tunes Tuesday." Per Wikipedia, she was last seen doing feature spots on Soundcloud tracks, so it's at least good to hear she didn't stop believing.

97) "Don't Keep Wasting My Time," by Teddy Pendergrass

i am not going to argue against teddy pendergrass. i understand that, of all the '90s r&b slow jamz specialists, he's the one that got a shout out on "slow jamz," so i'm digging this song while assuming this is not his most iconic work. this is dope, and it's nice to hear a voice with rasp. '90s r&b isn't very husky, y'know? great voices without a lot of depth. this dude knows how to use his voice to most effectively communicate his pain, and it's dope as hell. this is the worst positive thing anyone's ever written about teddy pendergrass, like y'all know he's great and i'm late to the party.

4.26.1997

2) "Hypnotize," by The Notorious B.I.G.

i wonder if the people who made "rise" knew that they would be playing an integral role in one of the greatest songs of all time, if they knew that the song they were making wasn't the song they would be remembered for. that intro, those three guitar blasts (music term) and biggie going "oh," is this miracle, and i wonder if anyone who made "rise" knew their song was going to be used to bring a miracle into this world. "we got so close!" the bassist might have cried upon hearing biggie's tone over the track he laid down. "if we had replaced the trumpet with talking..."

30) "Staring at the Sun," by U2

Like, even if it weren't one of the last songs Biggie ever released, we'd still remember "Hypnotize" as fondly as we do, because it's just this incredible perfect thing. Biggie just has this phenomenal, laid-back flow. You're not blown away by any lyrical twist or vocal trick, Biggie just lumbers along in time, and it's just fun to hear someone rap like that, and this track is the perfect complement to his voice, this groovy thing he can really sink into and flow with. P. Diddy isn't the greatest musician, but he has a great ear for what other people can do. He and Biggie could have made more songs like this. That song, man.

57) "Bitch," by Meredith Brooks

It remains to be seen if the music of 1997 is better than the music of 2007 or 2017 -- even in a week with "Hypnotize" and "Bitch," 1997 is going to lose the weekly competition because "Umbrella" is as good as "Hypnotize" and "Thnks fr th Mmrs" is better than "Bitch" and 1997 won't have anything better than "The Story" -- but we can definitively state that "Blank Space" was better in 1997. I was struck by how similar this song was to "Blank Space," mostly because I forgot "Bitch" had verses. The thematic concepts in "Bitch" and "Blank Space" are similar, both songs stating "You should have known I was complicated, and now I am presenting these complications and you will not enjoy it," but while Tay Tay's is rooted in the personal mythos of Tay Tay, one needing to understand Tay Tay's relationship with her #brand to fully understand the song, Meredith Brooks' is accessible to all, more generalized and less personal, not needing to make some grand statement about who Meredith Brooks is as a person and what being in a relationship with her is like. There's less baggage to "Bitch," so to answer the question HOT ON EVERYONE'S MIND, "Bitch" is a better version of "Blank Space" than "Blank Space."

88) "Full of Smoke," by Christion

This song has the singular misfortune of being the R&B slow jamz to follow Teddy Pendergrass. It is the victim of higher expectations and will not benefit from the expectational adjustment being performed as a result of hearing a dude sing exclusively in falsetto. I'm sure, out of the context of this deeply silly project, this would be a much more fun song to hear, but like no thank you. Now that I know what else slow jamz can do, I need more than overdramatic sings and this dude squeaking.

89) "Stop the Gunfight," by Trapp ft./2pac & Notorious B.I.G.

Fun fact! If you listen to this song, you will have done significantly more to prevent gun violence in the United States than every Senator COMBINED! Congratulations on doing more than nothing! Thoughts and prayers for EVERYONE!

5.3.1997

16) "MMMBop," by Hanson

Hanson makes legitimately wonderful music. Even when they were children with hair like the kid from Room, they were making songs that were exceptionally well-crafted, even if they were about some nonsense. You can kind of tell, on this song, that Hanson was trying to make a point about aging and losing touch with people and friendship that they couldn't make because they were legitimately 14, not music 14 where they're 14 and singing songs written by 40-year-olds but actual immature 14. The song is honestly far better than it has any right to be, and every day I remember Hanson weathered the storm and became normal people who make insanely good pop music is a good day.

45) "Don't Wanna Be a Player," by Joe

...JOE?! Hold up. So many R&B slow jammers didn't make it all the way to 2007. Hell, significantly fewer artists made it from 1997 to 2007 than made it from 2007 to 2017, and one of them was this random dude named Joe, this dude with one of the five most generic names as a stage name who has no defining personality traits. This dude? This dude's who y'all took with ya? I'm not even going to pretend to try to get this. Like all he's swearing to a girl is that he won't cheat on her. He's not pledging eternal love, he's not swearing he will climb a mountain, he will not defend her against the armies of every nation, he's just saying, "I will finally stop fucking other people." That's a really shitty promise. Like, way to spend four minutes promising a girl the bare minimum.

85) "Feelin' It," by Jay-Z

hey. hey, guys. jay-z? this jay-z cat? he's pretty amazing at rapping. be sure to give him a follow and show him some love in the comments.

94) "6 Underground," by Sneaker Pimps

this song sounds like the episode of buffy where seth green goes through an entire season of plot in one episode and then leaves the show forever. what i am trying to say is, this song sounds like two werewolves feeling a deep desire for one another but one of the werewolves a sweet lesbian witch girlfriend he doesn't want to abandon but he can't stop himself from abandoning her when he's in werewolf form so he runs to the mountains. that's what this song reminds me of, is that feeling when that. i'm that. i don't know what i came into this paragraph to do but i know i have the "wild at heart" wikipedia page open and Marti Noxon says of the episode "The whole issue of sexuality between men and women is kind of fraught because of the beast" and boy that is just a quote right there, innit. this song's over! huzzah. electronic music is still mostly bad, turns out.

96) "Can U Feel It," by 3rd Party

YouTube Comments Under Shitty Dance Music, Vol. III "ive been listening to this since i was a kid and since release lol. i had this on a cassette tape when there was no CD's" Buddy, what the heck kind of dystopia were you living in that didn't have CDs in 1997? OK but real quick I don't understand the nostalgia for cassette tapes. Cassette tapes sounded like garbage and sucked to carry around. I get owning one as a fun novelty, "Haha this band I like was selling them at a concert and I had to, and I mean it's nice to support the things I love!" But if you're defending the audio quality of cassette tapes, you have taken irony too far and are no longer a hipster, and you need to have a serious talk with yourself about what you hope to achieve in this life.

5.10.1997 28) "G.H.E.T.T.O.U.T.," by Changing Faces

The chorus of the song features the two women harmonizing over the words, "I can do bad all by myself," and 1997 just keeps on surprising us, this time revealing the origins of a Tyler Perry movie title. I did some research. The only other results for "I can do bad all by myself" are all related to the Tyler Perry film. That kind of speaks to the quality of the lyric, y'know? Like, if a director of some repute (haven't seen any of his movies, they are not for me but assuredly competently helmed) carried this lyric with him long enough to name his movie-musical after it, surely, there's some value. Great work, Changing Faces. I hope more people than just me figured out the title was a reference to something.

42) "Blood on the Dance Floor," by Michael Jackson

Shortly before the voting results for the starting line-ups of the MLB All-Stars were announced, certain among the baseball internet argued that, as they were future Hall of Famers, players like Miguel Cabrera should be given extra consideration for a spot, since you aren't going to remember Justin Smoak in thirty years, but you might tell your grandchildren about Miguel Cabrera. And there is merit; Miguel Cabrera is more deserving of the All-Star designation than a Justin Smoak, since Miguel Cabrera is an actual star baseball player and Justin Smoak happened to hit 20 of his ~100? career home runs in three well-timed months. But if you're such a profoundly boring grandparent that you would tell your grandchildren about baseball players you watched on TV, and you tell them about Miguel Cabrera, are you going to tell them about the time he hit a grounder to second in the second inning of the 2017 MLB All-Star Game? Your grandchildren will ask you why you weren't watching a cooler sport. This song is okay, but if you introduced your grandchildren to Michael Jackson with this song, and your grandchildren discovered Michael Jackson years later, your grandchildren would emancipate themselves from their parents just to not be related to you anymore. Also, it would be worth noting to your grandchildren that Michael Jackson was probably a pedophile.

44) "Thinking of You," by Tony! Toni! Tone!

A more appropriate name for this band would have been Tony. Toni. Tone. (I'm sorry, Tone, but if I'm not gonna remember how to make the accented e for Beyonce, you are just incredibly out of luck.) This is chill. Maybe you can justify one exclamation point, but determining who gets the exclmation point probably would have caused intra-group strife, and I think it would've been more appropriate if the band's name reflected how chill they were. When Panic! At the Disco were going through their Beatles phase, they switched to Panic at the Disco. You should have been looking ahead through time and taking notes from them.

76) "I Wanna Be There," by Blessid Union of Souls

This song sounds like the song that kicks off the slow dances at the junior high school dance. It'll stop the kids from getting so rowdy that they start grinding, but isn't so romantic that they'll start making out on the dance floor. A safe ballad to keep the hands above the waist and prevent glances from being too meaningful. It simultaneously sets and kills the mood. It's a hard trick to pull off, but my stars, it does it!

83) "ESPN Presents: The Jock Jam," by Various Artists

/slow clap The YouTube description states, "FOR ENTERTAINMENT USE ONLY," and I want to meet the person who intended on using this for educational purposes.

90) "Call Me," by Too $hort ft./Lil' Kim

Imagine the thinkpieces if any of today's female rappers put the line "I slip myself a mickey, now that's the proper set off" in their song. Boy, this song sure exists! I don't think I've ever heard a song end with the two credited artists fucking. That's kind of amazing. What a song this is. This is off the soundtrack for the film Booty Call, and however much the music supervisor paid to have Too $hort and Lil' Kim make a song for their movie, they got their money's worth and more. Unless Booty Call is actually porn, there is no way it lives up to this song.

92) "The Old Apartment," by Barenaked Ladies

This seems like as good a point as any to stop the post, as I am not in the business of critiquing BNL. BARENAKED LADIES ARE TRIPLE PLATINUM. ARE YOU?!

The Top 20 for 1997 so far! 20) "MMMBop," by Hanson (5.3) 19) "Everyday Is a Winding Road," by Sheryl Crow (3.29) 18) "It's All About U," by SWV (1.18) 17) "In My Bed," by Dru Hill (1.11) 16) "Talk to Me," by Wild Orchid (3.1) 15) "Please Don't Go," by No Mercy (2.8) 14) "Don't Keep Wasting My Time," by Teddy Pendergrass (4.19) 13) "Feelin' It," by Jay-Z (5.3) 12) "Step by Step," by Whitney Houston (3.15) 11) "On and On," by Erykah Badu (1.25) 10) "I Want You," by Savage Garden (3.1) 9) "Silent All These Years," by Tori Amos (3.22) 8) "What They Do," by The Roots (1.11) 7) "Step Into a World (Rapture's Delight)," by KRS-One (4.5) 6) "I'm Not Feeling You," by Yvette Michele (2.22) 5) "Bill," by Peggy Scott-Adams (3.29) 4) "I'll Be," by Foxy Brown ft./Jay-Z (2.15) 3) "Bitch," by Meredith Brooks (4.26) 2) "Return of the Mack," by Mark Morrison (3.1) 1) "Hypnotize," by The Notorious B.I.G. (4.26) What a solid list. And it’s only gonna get more solid, what with the Third Eye Blind and Backstreet Boys and Robyn coming our way. It’s not gonna be as strong as this section was, I don’t think, but it at least has the capacity to surprise. Tune in Monday, I hope!

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