#and i listened a lot to lewis capaldi but he's not on here hmm

[rollingthunderpouringrain]

Receiptify: Top Tracks, Last Month

Got tagged by @thequeerlibrarian <3 Thank you :)

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No pressure tags: @all-chickens-are-trans , @rovermcfly , @chaotic-gay-is-my-alignment , @atkeks :)

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[inkbyajm]

Bottled Up

pairing: C.H. x fem!reader

category: angst, fluff

warnings: yelling, crying, insecurities

word count: 2.2k

notes: apologies for the tardy post, i wrote and rewrote and re-rewrote the whole angsty scene because i didn’t know if it was written well enough, i wanted to make sure you guys could feel the emotions that i vividly visualised and tried my best to put into words  :( i did send it to a friend to check and she seemed to like it, so let me know how it goes for you, my loves. the angst for this one was inspired by 2 different songs - hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi and i will run from you by cemeteries. it’s not necessarily about the lyrics, but more about the melody and the mood you get into listening to them (they go in order). give those a listen :) also, beware of the upcoming philosophy references, i did study philosophy last year, hopefully no one gets triggered lmao

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Is a person’s scent something a normal human being picks up on before taking into account the rest of their features? Would a normal human being remember said scent and be able to recognise it in a crowd full of strangers? Corpse wasn’t too sure about the answer, but one thing he did know, is that she smelled delicately sweet, like cherry blossoms, and that ever since he had noticed it during their game night a few weeks ago, he simply couldn’t let it go. It was intoxicating, but in a calming way. 

━

Corpse and (Y/N) each lay on their beds in their own homes, going into the third hour of their call. He couldn’t exactly fall asleep, so he had decided to see what his dear friend was up to, and even though she was this close to succumbing to sleep, she said nothing and stayed up to keep his busy mind company.

“Okay, hot topic: what do you think about soulmates? More specifically the romantic type?” the girl asked, not knowing how much of a risqué question it was. How was he supposed to answer?

“I don’t really have an opinion on it. Why?”

“I read Symposium by Plato the other day and it presented an interesting concept about human beings. Basically-” Of course she fucking read philosophical books. How were they even having a conversation with each other? Why were they even friends? She was on a whole other level of smart. “-so this guy says that humans were like androgynous blobs, so they’d come in two sets of everything a normal person has. But those humans were so powerful, the gods were literally shaking in their robes, so Zeus decided to cut everyone into two to weaken them. But then humans became so miserable, they spent their entire lives searching for their other halves. In the end, Zeus kinda felt bad and said fuck it, I’ll give y’all dicks and vaginas for every time you wanna hug each other. And that’s the oldest explanation there is about the idea of soulmates.” she sighed, finished with her rant.

“That was...not at all the story I expected to hear.” she heard him mumble on the other side of the call. “Yeah, Greek philosophers were up to some reeal freaky things, you would have loved them,” he laughed at her joke, “I honestly think it’s cute. Not the whole cutting people into two thing, but like, longing for someone and then finding them because you finally feel complete. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a prince in shining whatever to sweep me off my feet. But it does sound nice, that ideal comfort, a person you’re just...meant to be with, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence that neither of them really minded, before it was Corpse’s turn to ask the second bold question of the night. “Have you found that person yet? Your soulmate?”

She’s never thought about it before, but she hasn’t really thought about soulmates that much either, it was a spontaneous thought she had said out loud. “I’m not sure, actually. (B/F/N) could be one, I guess.” (Y/N) shrugged in return. Wasn’t she going to ask him about it? She probably didn’t care that much. Understandable.

“My favourite quote about love is «You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.». It’s by Sam Keen, the American philosopher. It maay be the hopeless romantic in me shining through, but I do very much agree with his statement.” Did this mean anyone could have a chance with her despite their fuckups? So if he were to try, would she-?

“Obviously, there are some things that just can’t be ignored or avoided, but at that point it’s preferences and personal tolerance. Depends on the person, ya know?” she swiftly added, unaware of the effect it had on him. Sick. Some people were just meant to rot alone.

The final question was posed by (Y/N). She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at all curious. This little crush of hers had been steadily growing with every hang out, every laugh, every hug and every glance. There are rarely ever moments where one could casually discuss a topic this personal with friends, at least there weren’t with friends one had feelings for. This was the perfect opportunity.

“Corpse?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever been in love?” her voice was soft, her approach gentle.

“Well, I’ve been in relationships before, so I guess, yeah? It’s been so long, I don’t even know what love feels like anymore.” he let out a breath resembling a chuckle. Lamest fucking answer ever. But it was true. He hadn’t thought about love in that way in quite a while.

“A lot of people describe it as having an intense range of overwhelming feelings. Lightheadedness, slight shakiness, heart palpitations, some people have even reported losing their appetite. Crazy how human bodies work, huh? Oh! Speaking of chemicals-”

She had continued on to ramble about...chemistry? Eyes? Corpse couldn’t really hear what she was saying anymore, let alone concentrate on her words, as he pieced everything that’s been happening for the past few months together. The nauseating feeling. The pounding of his heart so fast it felt like he was about to die. The urge to make as little eye contact with her as possible, because otherwise he’d turn into a furnace. The obsession with her perfume, like he was some fucking creep. The fool was falling in love. And it was at that moment that everything had come crumbling down.

━

(Y/N) and Corpse hadn’t talked for a couple of weeks. Or rather (Y/N) messaged the 23 year old many times, but he’d either claim to be busy or just not answer at all. There were two possible reasons for the sudden lack of contact: he was indeed busy with his musical projects and couldn’t allow himself to be distracted; or something much more serious was going on. It didn’t matter, for she was already in her car, on her way to his apartment.

Arriving at her destination, she used the spare key he gave her months ago, a sign of absolute trust, and allowed herself into his humble abode. Silence reigned in her friend’s residence. She thought maybe he had gone somewhere, and though that was unlikely, it wasn’t unprecedented. The door to his recording room was closed, and while she was tempted to check if he was in there, she refrained from doing so, knowing that specific room was not to be entered unless he was around to give permission.

“Corpse?” she called out just to make sure. There was no response for a few minutes, which made her assume she had the place for herself, until she heard a door open behind her. Turning around, she saw his figure emerge from said recording room in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants, his curly hair disheveled.

“Hey, how are you d-”

“Why are you here?” he spoke flatly, interrupting her. “Well- You weren’t, um, answering your messages or any of my calls, so I thought something had happened.” she replied, suddenly nervous, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. “Nothing happened. I told you I was busy.”

The air around them seemed colder as tensions rose. (Y/N) could tell he was irritated, but she couldn’t exactly figure out why. She had never seen this side of him before. “Okay. Tell you what, I assume you haven’t had dinner yet, so why don’t I go ahead and start cooking something up while you-”

“Get out.”

She blinked a few times, not quite registering the words that had just left his mouth. “Sorry?” Her voice was quiet. She was taken off guard.

“Are you deaf? I said get. the fuck. OUT.”

Corpse shouted the last word, making her flinch in what appeared to be fear. Good. Run away while you still can. Heart pounding, (Y/N) took a second to remind herself whom she was speaking to. “I see that you’re angry, but at least give me a reason why-”

“You want a reason? I just don’t fucking WANT you here!” Anger grew inside of him like a tumor, but it wasn’t intended for her. She had simply been caught in a storm that had been building up for years. “Do you understand that?! I can’t fucking be around you without feeling like I’m going to EXPLODE.”

His words hit her like paintballs. They were only words, plain and simple, but they dug deeper and deeper into her skin with each hit, until, eventually, it broke. Eyes burning, she felt the tears slowly welling up in them.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” her own voice grew louder with frustration, but mostly, confusion.

“Maybe because I can? Because I’m a goddamn asshole?” 

“Don’t say that.”

“How?! How can I not say it when it’s the truth!” He wanted to stop. His mind told him to cease whatever it was that he was doing. However, blinded with resentment towards himself, he only spilled words he would regret after it was too late. 

“I can’t function like a normal fucking human being. I can’t be a good friend, son, or whatever the fuck else, and I sure as hell can’t love you.”

The paintballs had turned into a singular sword. A very long, very sharp sword that had found itself plunged deep inside her chest. How did he found out? When? Had she been too obvious? Had she been pushy? Clingy? Way out of line? The woman before him was unable to conceal her shock, as tears came rushing down her hot cheeks. Her voice brittle, she tried defending herself. She couldn’t leave it at that. She had to try. Try to have him see reason. “You don’t love me, that’s fine. But you didn’t have to deliver it this way-”

“But I did.” breathless with fury, Corpse clenched his fists so tight they had turned cold, yet they were still trembling. “You can get so naïve and dumb, you won’t understand things unless they’re spelled out nice and fucking bold for you.”

He closed with (Y/N) until their noses nearly touched. He noticed the way she silently shook, her eyes which shed endless tears never leaving his gaze. Unable to make a single sound, she felt the man’s hot breath on her face, his aura domineering.

“Now get. out.”

Her body wouldn’t cooperate as she just stood there. Staring back at him, her inner brows raised. Corpse wanted to hug her. Envelop her trembling figure with his and tell her he was sorry, that he meant none of it, that he had lost his mind. But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. And with his own tears threatening to spill, he created a distance between them. He needed her gone.

“Leave! GO!”

His yelling was enough to jolt (Y/N) out of her trance, and, in a hurry, she sprinted towards the entrance. The door closed behind her, she felt a sudden urge to fill her lungs with much needed air. She jumped at the resounding scream that emanated from deep within his soul, letting out all of his pent-up rage.

Feet carrying her all the way to her car parked outside of the building, the young woman managed to climb in, and this was the queue for her body to break down. The night was young. The street empty. No one around to hear her long-lasting wailing. She clutched the steering wheel for support, fingers wrapping around the leather in a tight grip. A headache was creeping up from the back of her skull. Her ears pulsated in response to the heavy pounding of her heart. Clumsily, (Y/N) inserted the key into the ignition, felt around for the gear stick, and drove away. She didn’t know where she was going or how long it was going to take to get there. She needed to get out.

What went wrong? When did it go wrong? She couldn’t help but feel guilty, feel at fault. She had never seen that side of him before. He had never treated her that way before.

It was the hugs, wasn’t it? He had to have noticed the way she held on for a second too long to enjoy the smell of his cologne. Her vision blurred as she resumed softly weeping, her salty tears staining her top. Or it might have been the touchiness, she would practically glue herself to him during their movie nights. Unaware of both her actions and surroundings, (Y/N)’s breathing quickened, becoming ragged. Maybe he didn’t like the way she called him three times a week. Her hands were slowly losing control over the wheel, over the vehicle she was driving. She invaded his privacy. That was definitely it. Fuck. How could she have been so damn blind, selfish, ignorant, FUCKING STUPID.

Lights. Something was moving towards her- MOVE.

With a sharp turn, she dodged the approaching car just by a hair’s breadth, but as she had avoided one accident, another came just as quickly. 

[idunnoficsorsumthing]

Fuck Buddies

uuhhh I was listening to divinely uninspired to a hellish extent. So if one of the lines sound very familiar that is because it is from Grace by Lewis Capaldi…. I just thought it was cute, and I had tears in my eyes lol 

Dean Winchester x female!reader I have a massive headache, and I am tired and I want to go to sleep but it is only 16:30 where I live and I have to cook dinner, and wait for the Lewis Capaldi live stream. I am excited. Edit: it is now live with Cat Le Bon, Celeste and Lewis Capaldi http://www.twitch.tv/amazonmusicuk  

Also this isn’t smut. This is fluff but the title is a little misleading.

The three of you were in a hotel near Chicago, and there was a booking mistake. Instead of two rooms with one bed you got one room and two beds. Which was fine by you, and Sam was only fine with it if you and Dean promised to keep your hands to yourself. You got out of the shower, and took a nap as Dean was out to get some dinner, and Sam was waiting to use the shower. You fall asleep with ease. Only to be woken up by Dean, and Sam talking. “I mean, it’s getting pretty serious, right?“ Sam asked. 

You heard Dean mumble something while chewing. "I don’t know, man.” He said: “It’s y/n.” You didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. You suddenly felt very insecure about a lot, especially  concerning Dean. You decided you’d pretend to be asleep till the conversation took another turn. It was quickly back about the hunt, and after a while you felt comfortable to “wake up”. You open your eyes, and stretch which was something you wanted to do for a while now. “Your food is cold.” Sam said, you sit down next to Sammy at the table there were only two chairs but they moved the table close to Sam’s bed so someone could sit on the end of the bed. You start to eat your fries, Dean moves his hand to your thigh, and you push it away, not looking him in the eye. You start to talk to Sam about wanting to talk to the witness. 

You had been giving Dean cold shoulder the entire time the three of you were in Chicago. You weren’t furious but you expected you to be a little more important to Dean than I don’t know. You wanted to be more important than that. You could see you guys get a dog or a christmas tree, you didn’t ask him to get married or something. Although, you couldn’t expect that of him. When the two of you first started to have feelings you were almost fine with being fuck buddies. Because, that was what he wanted. You knew you couldn’t do fuck buddies because you were already in love with Dean. Then it turned into a weird relationship meaning he took you on zero dates, and after he slept with you, he didn’t kick you out of bed. The two of you never held hands or were lovey dovey in the kitchen or anything. You still saw him as your boyfriend. But, he didn’t see you as his girlfriend apparently. The night you got back to the bunker, you chose to sleep in your own bed. You hadn’t slept there in a while, and gradually a lot of your stuff moved to Dean’s room. You had to accept the fact that you now had to live without your hairbrush and your moisturizer. Dean didn’t even ask you about why you weren’t with him, and that hurt. You hadn’t thought much of the relationship at the beginning but as time went on you had hoped he was also feeling more. Clearly, you were wrong. 

You had been kind of rude towards Dean the whole day, and all he wanted was to sit in the library reading up on the Wendigo that you were trying to find. Usually when sitting in the library doing research you would’ve bugged him by putting up your feet on the edge of his seat, you knew it must bother him but he never said anything. You had barely said a thing to him by the time it was dinner time. 

After dinner, which consisted of taco’s. You decide to take a shower, and go to sleep or watch some netflix because you didn’t feel much for sitting around drinking beer with Sam and Dean like usual. Or, wait around for Cas to appear. Once the warm water from the shower head fell on your skin, you started to tear up a little. Dean wasn’t exactly prince charming; you knew that. But, you didn’t know you didn’t hold any part of his heart. 

You were lying in bed watching some stupid netflix show. You couldn’t focus on the story line. Dean knocked on your bedroom door. “What?” You groan. You really didn’t feel like seeing him right now. “What is the matter with you?” he asked. You shrug, he leaned his shoulder against your door opening. You were contemplating whether to just ignore him. “Y/n, I noticed you’ve been acting strange.” He said, he had his hands in the pockets of his pants. “I’m not ready to be another one of your mistakes, Dean.” you said, he frowned. “What?” he asked. “I can’t do this anymore.” you said, you gestured to the distance between the two of you. “I don’t want to be in this weird relationship where I think we are in love and you just think we are fuck buddies.” you tell him. While getting up from your bed. You regretted already putting on your coziest pj’s and fluffy socks. He opened his mouth to say something but you didn’t let him. “I get it, I was the one stupid enough to love you so I can’t blame you.” you said, he looked like he didn’t follow. You walk over to him, placing your hand on his chest, and pushing him out of your room. “Wait What?” he asked. “Goodnight Dean.” you said, closing the door in his face. 

Not even two minutes later a knock was your door, Dean didn’t wait till you said he could come in. “What the hell are you talking about?” he asked. He stepped up close to you. “I heard you and Sam talking, about how you didn’t know about me and that it is just me.” you snap at him. He took another step closer to you, and you take a step back. You knew if he got close enough you’d give into his wishes because you would get lost in his eyes. He shook his head, and started to chuckle. “What?” You ask. “Fuck buddies? You thought I thought we were fuck buddies? You have taken permanent residence in my bedroom. I have braided your hair before.” He chuckled. “I wear an extra elastic band on my wrist on hunts because you always forget yours.” He held up his arm to show you the black elastic. You kind of felt stupid. “Sam and I were talking about Grandma Suzie’s. We wanted to take over ownership because they are closing and we love that place, and we weren’t sure if you would be okay with it. ” He said, stepping even closer. You stepped back again, this time your back hit the wall. Now, you officially felt like the idiot of the year. You bite your lower lip a little. He put his arm against the wall above your head. “I’m sorry.” You  covered your face with your hands because of embarrassment. “Wait, what is going to happen to Dough?” You ask. He was the chef from Suzie’s. “Everything will be the same. Dough will run the place, we just won’t have to pay there anymore.” Dean said, you slowly take your hands from your face. “We are still a we?” You ask. Dean looked at you sternly. “I was talking about me and Sam.” He said, you try to detect a lie in his eyes. “And us if you stop being a dumbass.” He said with a grin, with his free hand he held your waist as he slowly pressed his body against yours. He hovered his lips over yours, teasing you. You press your lips against his. 

The following morning you woke up in your own bed with Dean snoring next to you. You stare at him as he is peacefully sleeping. “What?” he asked. You sat up in the bed, you were still naked, you quickly pulled the sheets closer to your skin. “Nothing.” you said, pretending to be looking at your nails. “Hmm. Really?” he asked. You nod. You step out of bed, in search of some clothes, you knew Dean was looking at you. You quickly put on some clothes, and race to the kitchen. 

You make some coffee, you still felt very stupid, but also that insecure bit of you still isn’t gone because were you so wrong to think that he didn’t care, he certainly acted like he didn’t care enough and he sweet talked everything, always just like last night. You were too lost in thought to notice Dean enter the kitchen. Suddenly you felt his arms wrapped around your stomach, and he placed kisses on your neck. “Dean” you whimper. You turned around, and he lifted you onto the kitchen counter. He pulled you in for a kiss, and you started to suck a little at his lower lip. “Oh Chuck, do you have to? we eat here.” Sam said, loudly. The two of you abruptly stop.

Tagged: @akshi8278

[wellimaginethat]

Bruises: Chapter 2

SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON 5 FINALE OF CHICAGO MED!!!

Pairing: Crockett Marcel x (female) Reader

Word Count: 3121

Author’s Note: SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON 5 FINALE!!! This happened because of Chicago Med’s season finale. I got this idea and it just stuck. I couldn’t shake it so I had to write it. (I know I said it would be posted at 21:00/9PM central time but I was playing cards with my mom, sorry!)

Trigger Warning(s): MENTION OF CHILD’S DEATH (Dr. Marcel’s daughter, Harper), ABANDONMENT, divorce, CAR ACCIDENT, MENTION OF BLOOD (in later chapter), slight injury (in later chapters), hospital stay (in later chapters), bad medical knowledge because I’m not a doctor (yet, maybe someday, lol), Dr. Manning is a noisy brat (no hate, maybe a little shade, but no full on hate), DEPRESSION (in later chapters), mention of alcohol abuse, mentions of self harm (in later chapters)

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: This is probably, kinda, sorta AU because I’ve missed some of Chicago Med (the others too due to work) so I’m just going based off what I know and research (which has come up that we don’t know much about Marcel’s past, other than this shocking new tidbit). Also, the name is from the song Bruises by Lewis Capaldi, which is the song I was listening to while writing this

Y/N = Your Name

Y/EC = Your Eye Color

~ I've been told, I've been told to get you off my mind; But I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind ~

You didn’t know what to expect. Whether you thought he would call you or not, which led to a lot of pacing back and forth in your hotel room. You actually hoped he would call, having decided that if anything, you would at least be able to bury the lingering feelings so you could officially move on.

You figured Crockett already moved on, and you didn’t blame him, you were the one that actually left.

Part of you wondered if you had stayed, if your marriage would have survived. If you would have been able to work it out, grieved Harper and moved forward together. You wondered if he would’ve stopped staying out so late, if he would’ve stopped avoiding you.

You then started to think of how nice it would have been if you guys could have worked it out and gone back to how things had been before everything happened, sure it wouldn’t have been exactly the same, but back to how loving you two had been towards each other.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you were startled when your phone started buzzing on the bed. You grabbed it to look at who was calling you and were greeted by a number you didn’t know, hoping it was your estranged husband, you slide the answer button across the screen and put the phone up to your ear.

Pausing to take a breath before you said anything, you prepared yourself for it to be him, but you were also ready for it to be a telemarketer. “Hello?”

“Y/N?” Once his voice came across the line, your chest tightened and you forgot how to breath. It almost felt like when you first started seeing each other, how you’d get all excited just by his voice. “Hello? Y/N?”

You cleared your throat. “Sorry, bad reception, you kept breaking out.” You lied, not wanting him to think you were the giant dork you were. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually call me.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to leave your number.” Came his response with a slight chuckle.

You smiled, glad that he didn’t seem upset right now.

“So do you actually want to talk or are we just going to make small talk again?” You could hear the apprehension in his voice.

“I want to talk. Like actually talk. I think the only way for us to fully move on and leave things in the past is for us to talk.” You responded, trying to swallow around the sudden lump in your throat.

He was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Do you want to have this conversation over the phone or are you free to grab a cup of coffee?”

“I could get behind grabbing coffee.” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you.

“Do you want to meet up tonight or tomorrow morning?” He asked after you told him the hotel you were staying at.

“What would work better for you?”

“I think I’d have more time tonight, I have to be at the hospital pretty early tomorrow.”

“Then tonight’s fine. Want me to meet you there?”

He paused. “Do you need a ride? Since your car…” He trailed off.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about my car being totaled. Great.” You sighed. “No, I can get a cab.”

“Cabs are expensive.”

“Really? I haven’t really noticed, they didn’t seem that bad.” You said offhandedly, then after you heard him sigh, you stopped. “If you want to give me a ride, you can pick me up at the Dayside Hotel.”

“I can be there in a half hour, I’d like to go home and change first.”

“Okie dokie.” You replied with a smile, then mentally kicked yourself. “I’ll see you then, I’ll meet you out front.”

You were pretty sure you heard him breath out a laugh, like he was trying to suppress it. “Alright, I’ll see you then.” And with that, he hung up.

You made sure the call was over before tossing your phone back onto the bed and falling forward on it, groaning. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” You huffed to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for letting yourself daydream before the phone call, and for letting yourself get flustered by his voice. You knew you needed to get this over with and get out of Chicago and put some distance between the two of you before you got yourself hurt.

You pushed yourself off the bed and went into the bathroom to take a look at yourself, leaning towards the mirror to make sure your makeup was still decent, then you ran your hands through your hair. You didn’t want to seem like you were trying too hard, but you didn’t want to look like you just rolled out of bed either.

After you were done getting ready, you still had twenty-eight minutes to kill before he was supposed to be there. You just then realized that you should have insisted on taking a cab, because you started to doubt that he’d want to give you a ride back after your talk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was there right on time, you started to walk towards his car as he drove into the hotel’s parking lot. As soon as you got to his car, you took a deep breath before opening the door to get in. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He greeted you, waiting until you were in the car and buckled up before he pulled out of the parking lot. “How’re you feeling?” He asked

“Hmm?” You turned to look at him.

“How’re you feeling?” “Fine.” You assumed he meant because of the accident. “My head still kinda hurts and I’m still a little achy but I’m fine.”

“Good.” He nodded as he turned his full attention back to the street ahead of the car.

You nodded once before turning your attention away from him and directed it out of your window, wishing you would have just taken a cab, it wouldn’t have been so awkward. And it was going to be even more awkward if he did give you a ride back to the hotel.

Soon enough he was parking the car on the side of the street, you couldn’t get out of the car fast enough, practically throwing yourself out once it was in park.

He walked over to the meter and put a few quarters in. “I think I have some quarters.” You piped up, going to dig in your purse.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it.” He told you with a small smile, turning his attention away from you to finish what he was doing.

You nodded reluctantly and stood there a bit idly, waiting for him to finish so you could head in to the coffee shop and get this over with.

He walked over to you once he was done and motioned for the two of you to carry on up the sidewalk towards the coffee shop.

You began walking and he fell into step next to you, neither of you talking yet.

Once the two of you got to the coffee shop, he hurried a step ahead of you to open the door for you.

“Still the same gentleman you always were, I see.” You commented with a bit of a smile and he nodded to you, letting you walk in before following you into the coffee shop.

You headed over to the counter to order your coffee, and you made sure to have your card ready to swipe it before he could even think about trying to pay for the coffee.

“I would have gotten it.” He told you.

“And that’s why I made sure to be ready.” You smirked a bit.

“Y/N.” He sighed.

“Crockett.” You retorted in the same tone of voice.

You could see him slowly give up this silly argument and you felt a small sense of victory.

“Don’t look so smug, I’m just trying to keep you in a good mood so you don’t run out.” He told you under his breath as soon as the barista turned away.

You huffed as you frowned up at him, getting ready to throw a snide comment when you stopped yourself. “Well a victory is still a victory either way and I won this argument.” You tell him in a soft voice, meaning it as a joke.

He heard the slight humor in your voice and smiled down at you.

The minute his eyes met yours, your heart clenched and you had to turn away, facing back toward the front counter, waiting for your drinks.

Time seemed to slow down as you watched the barista make your drink and bring it over, she handed your drink over to you.

You took it and turned to Crockett. “I’m going to grab a table.” You just didn’t want to stand there next to him and pretend this isn’t awkward.

He nodded to you as he waited for his coffee.

You found a table near the wall, away from the others sitting in the coffee shop, and took a seat. He joined you within moments and took a seat across from you, you could feel his eyes on you but your eyes were trained on your drink.

“So are we going to talk or are we going to sit here in silence?” He asked after a few minutes of complete silence between the two of you.

Your Y/EC eyes met his brown ones, and you nodded. “Yeah, just trying to figure out where to start.” You breathed out. “I don’t know how to start.”

“The beginning would probably be a good start.” He commented, not taking his eyes away from yours. “I’ve asked you twice now why you left, and while you did answer me, you could probably elaborate on that.”

You sighed. “I don’t-” You stopped and ran a hand through your hair, looking away from him for a moment before looking back at him. “I don’t know how.” You tell him honestly. “I don’t know how to explain what was going through my head at that time. All I know is that I felt like you stopped caring about me. It felt like you shut down completely. Harper died and you cut me out.” You stopped yourself and looked out the big front window, willing yourself not to cry. Your eyes were filling with tears but you blinked them away, you didn’t want to draw attention to the two of you by crying.

“I never stopped caring about you.” He whispered out, his hand coming across the table to rest on top of yours.

You looked back at him. “It sure seemed like it.” You replied quietly. “You were never there. You left me at the hospital and then you were never home and it felt like you just...shut down.”

“I did.” He said quietly. “But I didn’t stop caring about you. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to grieve her and be there for you.”

“I wanted us to grieve her together. I was scared of losing you too. I was scared that one night you weren’t going to come back home.”

He stopped. So that was what you had meant, not that he was going to find someone else. “When you said that yesterday I assumed you meant that I’d find someone else.” He admitted quietly.

“Well I was afraid of that too.” You admitted just as quietly, a bit sheepishly in fact. You sighed. “It was always a fear. But I was more worried that something was going to happen to you, you were drinking every night and you were grieving on top of that, I was worried something bad was going to happen.”

He nodded to you before sighing. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“And I’m sorry I left.” You told him honestly, your eyes meeting his. “But there’s not much we can do about it now, it’s in the past.”

He nodded. “But we can still talk about this.”

“Or maybe we can just leave it at that and move on.” You didn’t even realize you had said it until you saw his expression turn into a pained one, but he quickly masked it. You swallowed hard. “I think we owe it to ourselves to leave the past in the past and move on, to part ways on good terms and go our separate ways.”

He was quiet for a moment, studying your face before he finally spoke. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” You breathed out the lie with a definitive nod. “Yes, I think that’s what’s best.”

“But is that what you want?” He asked again.

You paused, it wasn’t what you wanted, but you weren’t going to go down that rabbit hole. “Yes.”

He nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do.” You could see the change in his demeanor, he straightened up, slowly pulling his hand away from yours. “We can get some divorce papers drawn up and sign them, it shouldn’t be too difficult since we’ve already been separated for seven years and living separate lives.”

You cleared your throat and nodded. “All we’d have to do is sign the papers and then it’ll be over and we won’t have to worry about it anymore.” You gave a halfhearted shrug. “I, um, I’m gonna go.” You said quietly after a moment. “I’ll just get a cab back to the hotel.” You stood up.

“Y/N.” He stood up, only to be met with you holding a hand out to stop him, shaking your head.

“It’s fine.” You said quietly, heading towards the door. You were looking back as you walked out, seeing him sit back in his chair, and ended up running right into someone. You quickly turned to face them. “Oh my god I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you okay?” You asked the woman in front of you quickly, recognizing her as the female doctor that Crockett was talking to earlier, this must be a frequent coffee spot for the hospital staff, or maybe it was their place. You felt a twinge of pain at that thought but pushed it away.

The brunette smiled at you and waved it off. “It’s fine.” She assured you. “You’re Crockett Marcel’s wife, right?”

You cleared your throat. “Soon to be ex wife, yes.” You nodded to her, hating the sound of it.

“Oh.” She seemed shocked by that statement. “I thought the two of you were going to work it out.”

You tilted your head and raised a brow at her. “Why would you assume that?” You hoped that didn’t sound as rude as you feared it did.

“Well, he just...seemed like he wasn’t over you.” She said uneasily, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business.”

“It’s not.” You replied with a slight shrug. “But you two seem to be friends, so it’s okay.” You brushed it off. “What do you mean he seemed like he wasn’t over me?”

“Well when we were talking earlier, when he thought you left without saying anything, he was hurt.” She told you.

“Oh.” You barely spoke out as you looked around a bit, shocked by this new information and not sure what to do with it. “I’m sorry, I’m Y/N.” You offer out your hand to shake hers, which she does.

“Natalie.” She told you with a smile, releasing your hand.

“Well Natalie, it’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry if I’m not more friendly, I’m just…”

“Going through a lot, obviously.” Her smiled turned warmer, almost knowingly.

You nodded. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Well with everything that’s going on, plus the car accident you were in, I can imagine you might be a little frazzled.” Natalie commented with a slight shrug.

You nodded again. “Yeah…” You trailed off, a slight silence falling between the two of you and you were getting ready to make your exit.

“Again, I know this is none of my business, but if you still care about Crockett, I think you should talk to him. You guys might be able to work it out, if that’s what you want of course, because I’m pretty sure that’s what he wants.” It was obvious that she knew this was none of her business, and it was obvious that she was overstepping, but you couldn’t be mad because it was obvious that she was just trying to help.

You offered her a smile. “I’d love nothing more than to fix my marriage, but I don’t see that happening. There’s a lot of hurt there and I don’t think we’d be able to move past it.” That was a lie, you wondered if it was obvious. “And I don’t want to cause him any more pain than I already have.”

She nodded, she looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t.

You smiled a bit wider at her. “It was nice meeting you, Natalie, but I should really get going.” You stepped away then. You heard the door open as you were walking away and spared a glance back to see your husband step out, you had expected it to just be Natalie walking in. You quickened your pace, not wanting him to try to stop you from catching a cab.

Crockett saw you retreating from the cafe, then saw Natalie standing there, looking like she had just meddled.

“You should go after her.” Natalie told him, looking up at him with a friendly smile.

He looked at her for a moment before sighing. “Listen, I know you’re just trying to help, but don’t. She obviously doesn’t want to talk, much less work things out.”

“But she does.” Natalie insisted softly, still looking up at him. “I just talked to her and she does.”

“Please just stay out of it.” Crockett sighed.

Natalie sighed then too. “Fine, I will, but not before I say this. I just talked to her and she wants to work things out, she’s just scared.”

“And did she tell you what she’s scared of.”

“Being hurt and hurting you more than what’s already been done.” Natalie told him. “Don’t give up, you have a chance to work things out and get her back. I know if it was me and I had a chance to get my husband back, I’d do whatever it took.” She spoke softly, reaching out to squeeze his arm before stepping around him and walking into the coffee shop, leaving him standing there on the sidewalk alone with his thoughts.

[theswiftarmy]

#28 - The Jitterbug Mystery

Music has a way of bringing anything back to life after it’s gone, or over.  If you don’t get this now, you’ll understand this when you listen to a song years after you’ve lost a friend, a lover, or a family member.  Music becomes a magical doorway into a world you once knew but lives in the present inside you.  But with every magic music memory doorway, exists a second door that can open unexpected memories.  It’s a bit like that scene in the movie Labyrinth, one door leads to the castle, the other to certain death, well, certain not death, but it can certainly bring back those memories you’d rather forget.  Good with the bad.  Some songs fish out good memories and some fish out creatures from the sea of bad memories.  Memories tucked away in the pages of a journal that sits on your shelf, and you stare at it from time to time, but don’t dare to open it up for fear of remembering that past.  Click click click… Flash flash flash…

The street was empty.  Kymmie Lawyer opened her closed eyes and found herself standing outside The Microsoft Theater.  Everyone seemed to be gone.  The sun had set.  The streetlights glowed.  The show was over.

“Where is everyone?!”  Kymmie said to herself.  Then she shouted looking around.  “Hello!  Anyone!?!?”  She felt tightness in her chest.  She was on her own, lost on this empty street.

“I don’t know.”  Her dad replied from beside her.

She smiled at him, just glad she wasn’t alone.  The fear in her chest dissipating.  She took a breath in as the tightness eased.

He looked up and down the street.  “This place is a ghost town.  There aren’t even any cars driving around.  I’ve never seen LA like this before.”  He looked at his phone, trying to get a signal.  “Hmmmm…”

“What is it dad?”

“I can’t seem to get a signal.  It just says SMPTE error.”

“You mean a Swiftie error?”  She looked up at him.

He pulled the phone in closer and squinted at it, “No, it says… SMPTE.”

She shrugged back.  “SMPTE.  Never heard of it.  Weird.  Maybe try walking around in circles.”

Carl knew what SMPTE was, he just wasn’t sure why his phone signal would have been replaced with the words SMPTE error.  He’d certainly never heard of a SMPTE error.  SMPTE stands for Society of Motion Picture and Television Engineers, and to have an error with SMPTE didn’t make any sense.  “I think I might do that, I won’t go far, just stay here.”

Kymmie smiled at her dad, and then turned her attention to something fluttering in the wind.  Pages turning.  A small notebook on the ground.  She walked over to it and picked it up.  She inspected the notebook for a moment then opened the first page.  “The Perfect Playlist…”  She read out loud.  Maybe it was a journal, or a diary.  There were numbered lines but they were all blank, like someone had decided to make a playlist but never started it.  She flipped through the notebook noticing small bits and pieces of incomplete information.  Some celebrity must have dropped this, she thought.  It had to be someone from the red carpet!  She felt a rush of excitement.  They were standing very close to where the red carpet had been.  There were random doodles and a note here or there.  Some looked like lyrics, or perhaps poetry, some looked like movie set notes and reminders, photo-shoot dates in the margin, costume notes, make up, hair, tiny journal entries, tiny stories, tiny entries.  This IS a celebrity’s notebook!  She quickly flipped through the pages wondering whose it could be.  There were Ideas and doodles here and there.  But the center of every page was blank except for the numbered playlist on the very first page.  ‘The Perfect Playlist…’ Kymmie decided it needed to be filled in.  The notebook, or journal, or whatever this was seemed like it was meant to be written in.  She was now tasked with the responsibility to create The Perfect Playlist.

“Dad!  Can I have a pen?”  She yelled in his direction.

“Sure.”  He stopped walking in circles trying to get a signal and jogged over to her.  He handed her his special lawyer pen.

“Can I keep it?”  She asked.  Examining it.

“Well, how about you hold on to it until I need it back.  Okay?”

“Sure.”  She thought for a moment then wrote her name on the very first page.  She pressed the pen to the paper and went over the letters multiple times when she was finished Kymmie Lawyer displayed in bold at the top corner of the journal.  She closed the notebook and placed the pen back in her pocket.  She wasn’t quite ready to start filling in the playlist.  After all, how does one decide the exact songs that are just the right fit for a PERFECT playlist?  “What now?”  She asked.

“Let’s just wait here for a bit okay?  We’ll see if anyone else shows up.”

“Okay.”  She looked at the journal in her hands.  She felt another wave of excitement rush over her.  Then she looked up again at her dad.  He was restarting his phone.  “Are you trying to call your boss… Mr. Whale?”

“I was trying to call your mother, actually, but I’ll need to call him at some point too.”

“Why do you call him The Whale?”

Carl reflected for a moment.  “It’s a long story, a whale is a person with a lot of money.  It’s an old term.”

“Oh, so it’s an olden days thing.  I was going to say he doesn’t really look like a whale.”

Carl laughed and shook his head no.  “The nickname has nothing to do with his physical appearance.”

She blinked, then blinked again, thought about it for a moment, then moved on.  She opened the journal once again.  She decided the playlist NEEDED to be filled in and since she needed SOMETHING to keep her mind occupied now that her phone was broken, this would have to do.  Mostly, it was hard to leave a waiting playlist empty.  It was pulling her in.  The question was, what songs made the perfect playlist?  Kymmie couldn’t decide.  She would have to think about it.  Maybe just add some of her favorite artists.  She turned to the second page and created a new list, she called it ‘STAN LIST’.

Kymmie wrote ‘Stan Ariana Grande’ at the top in the number one spot.  Then she wrote ‘(OBVIOUSLY)’ in big bold letters.  She made a small heart drawing beside her idol’s name.  Then she wrote on the next line ‘Justin Bieber (is okay too).  Then she wrote, ‘Billie Eilish is pretty stylish’ on the third line.  She wasn’t about to full on stan either of them but she decided they were cool.’  She made a little smiley face.  Then she wrote Taylor Swift’s name down below that with an undecided question mark.’  Then she thought of the cat and drew a picture of the cat next to Taylor’s name.  She wasn’t sure how she felt about Taylor right now, she knew how other people felt, some loved her, some didn’t, but she wasn’t entirely sure about a lot of things at the moment.  She moved the pen back up to Ariana Grande and underlined her name. Okay, she knew that much at least, she’d do ANYTHING for Ariana.  Arianator for life.

She turned to the next page and wrote PLAYLIST POSSIBILITIES at the top.  She added more artists on her mind besides Ariana , Justin, Billie, and Taylor.  Cardi B DEFINITELY, and Roddy Ricch. She paused, thought, then continued writing, The Weeknd, Harry Styles, CHVRCHES.  She wasn’t sure what order and what songs she wanted this playlist to be in, she would reorder it later, right now she was just writing down artists she liked.  “I’ll just make a list and then cross the numbers out and change it later.  Ugh, paper.  Why do you have to be so difficult?”  She was talking to herself.  She tried to remember what she had saved on her phone.  She wrote down more names, Drake, Tones and I, Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, Lewis Capaldi, DJ Khaled, Dua Lipa…

She stopped writing for a moment trying to think of more.  She was drawing a blank, there were so many more SOOO many more she just couldn’t think of them!  Instead, she wrote down, ALL OF COACHELLA, even though she’d never actually been to Coachella, because her mom wouldn’t let her, but she watched it on live stream and it seemed like the best ever.  She thought back to Ariana’s Coachella performance, so amazing, ohhhh and Beyoncé!  Beychella.  She wrote down Beyoncé.  Then she went back up and underlined ALL OF COACHELLA.  Then wrote “ARIANACHELLA GRANDECHELLA”.  She lifted the pen again and looked up at her dad trying to get cell service.  “Hmmmm… THIS THING IS SOOOO COOOL!  I love this journal dairy book thing.”  She flipped through a few pages and found some writing in the margin.

The Jitterbug Mystery

“The Jitterbug Mystery?”  She read it again.  “Dad, what’s a Jitterbug?”  She yelled in his direction.

“It’s an old dance.”  He said back in her direction after looking up from his phone thinking for a moment.  He started walking towards her still not having any luck with getting service.  “I thought you didn’t like bugs?”

“Hmm, well, yeah, but this bug sounds interesting.  Is it as old as The Whale?”

Carl laughed.  “I’m not going to comment on the age of my boss.  If it gets back to him, I could be in some hot water.  I will comment on the dance, the Jitterbug dance is pretty old.  Why do you ask about The Jitterbug?”

“It’s written here.”  She pointed to it in the journal.

Carl looked over at the faded and worn looking notebook his daughter was holding up for him to see.  “Where did you find that?”

“It was over there.”  She pointed to where she found it.  “Someone dropped it.  It’s mostly blank, but…”  She pointed back to The Jitterbug Mystery writing.  “There’s some notes written here and there.”

He eyed the cover, it looked vaguely familiar, like an Art Nouveau painting, but he couldn’t quite place where he’d seen it. “Well, if you find a name, or figure out who it belonged to, we will have to return it to its rightful owner.  Just don’t get too attached to it, okay?”

“Ummm, I already wrote my name in it.  Sorry.  No big deal.  Where’s the undo on this tablet thing.  I’ll just undo it!”

“It’s pen and paper, you can’t undo it.”

“Oops.  Ugh, pen and paper, it’s like making life mistakes, you can’t go back!  It’s like that time I un-friended one of my best friends because they couldn't stan the same musician as me.  And then I was like, I miss my best friend.  Life is so hard when you can’t undo!”

Carl chuckled.  “I don’t think I’ve ever met this Stan friend of yours is, but hopefully you learned a valuable lesson from losing your friend.  Just remember, someone else is missing that book right now.  It will be up to you to take care of it for them.”

“Dad, stan isn’t a friend, it’s when you… Never mind.”  She pulled out the pen and thought for a moment. “Hmmmm…”   She pressed the pen into the paper and underlined The Jitterbug Mystery.  “I’m going to get to the bottom of this Jitterbug Mystery”, she said to herself the noticed more writing below, written in ink the same color as the paper, nearly invisible, but it was there if you held the notebook at just the right angle.

A perfectly imperfect playlist

Me… The right songs in the wrong order.

You… The wrong songs in the right order.

Us… The right songs in just the right order.

She read it again.  Kymmie let a feeling of awe wash over her.  “A perfectly imperfect playlist.  Me… You… Us.”  She ran her hand over the words.  Someone else’s words were grabbing her; the journal was pulling her into its mystery, its Jitterbug Mystery.  She started to wonder about its history, “Who are you?“ She said to the journal.

She removed the pen from the page and paused again to think for another moment, wondering which shelf this journal would sit upon were it not for this fork in the road, then turned back to the playlist page.  She wasn’t going to fill it out yet but, why not… it’s not like it was going to be a perfect playlist, at least not at first anyway, it was going to be perfectly imperfect, the wrong song or the wrong order, a perfectly imperfect playlist.  Kymmie decided to add her missing friends to the playlist.  She wrote down Justin Bieber, then moved the pen to the next line and wrote Billie Eilish.  She left the songs blank, she decided she would fill those in later.

Kymmie looked up from the journal after writing their names and spotted Billie and Justin walking down the street.  Billie was holding Justin up every few steps, but he seemed okay.

“Dad!  Look!”  She yelled.  “BILLIE!  JUSTIN!”

They picked up their pace, walking quickly over to her and Carl.

“Are you two okay?”  Carl asked.

“Yeah.  I think so?  I mean, we feel okay.”  Billie pointed to Justin and herself.  “I’m… just not exactly sure what happened.  I remember going through that doorway and then, it was a bit like that scene in Contact when Jodie Foster goes through that space gate, you know when she falls right through and no one believes her journey story because there’s nothing on the tape, it was a blank tape but then the one person points out that sure the tape was blank, but it recorded 18 hours of blank tape and then you’re mind is blown because you’re just like WHAAAAATTTTT, THIS IS REAL!  I love that part.  Anyway instead of space this was… what was it?  Some kind of an earworm wormhole?”  Billie looked at the others and they shrugged back at her.  The agreed to call it an Earworm Wormhole as that seemed to work.  “After the wormhole, everything went hazy and we were just here in the street.  To be honest, I was expecting something cooler at the end of the earworm wormhole.”

“Yeah, me too.”  Bieber added.  He looked a little like he was about to throw up, but then seemed okay again.  “So it kind of is like contact, all that wormhole traveling and you end up right back where you started.”

Everyone nodded. “Yeah.”  Carl replied with a furrowed brow.  “It was more of an exit door than an earworm wormhole.  One heck of an exit door though.”

“Where are the others?”  Billie asked.  “Where’s Lizzo, and Kanye?”

Carl looked back at Billie unsure.  He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.  “I don’t know.”

“Ohhh!  I should add them to this playlist too.”  Kymmie fished her hand into her pocket and pulled out the pen her dad gave (loaned) her (we all know he’s not getting it back), she opened the journal and wrote Kanye West and Lizzo on the playlist.

“I hope they’re okay!”  Billie looked up and down the street.

“Wait, Kymmie, you said playlist.  What playlist?”  Justin asked.

“This journaling book I found!  I don’t know… it was just lying over there.”  She pointed to the spot on the ground where she found it.  “But you're on it now!  See!!!  I added you, it was blank when I found it, but now you’re in it.  And Billie, so are you!  I just haven’t decided what songs of yours I want.  But don’t worry, I’ll pick something from each of you.”

“She’s going through phone withdrawal.”  Her dad said to Billie and Justin.

“Oh.”  They nodded.

“DAD!  I am not going through phone withdrawal.”

“Yeah, you are.”  He smiled at her.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes.  Kymmie pulled out her phone, it was still locked on the same screen.  Even a secret doorway couldn’t fix it.  She held it up.  “An earworm wormhole couldn’t bring my phone back!”  She put it back into her pocket.  “Oh well.  At least now I have this cool notebook journal thing.”

“You’ll just appreciate your phone that much more when you finally get it back.”  Billie smiled at Kymmie.  “Just keep writing in that book.  It IS pretty cool looking!  Look at that cover!”

“Yeah.  It is pretty cool looking.”  She repeated and smiled back at Billie.

“Kymmie, do you mind if I take a quick peek at that notebook journal”  Billie asked, eyeing the notebook. “Just real quick?”

“You promise to give it back?”

“Yeah.”  She crossed her fingers behind her back.

“Okay.”  Kymmie handed the mystery book over to Billie.

Billie’s thoughts flashed to what she was told backstage about the fabled celebrity suicides book, not that she was sure it even existed, but if THIS was it, Kymmie wouldn’t be getting it back, Billie would burn it, destroy it, without question, there’s been enough suicides in the world, let alone celebrity suicides in the world already.  She decided if that journal did exist, she could find it and destroy it, ESPECIALLY if The Whale was using it to gain control of valuable art assets to build his stronghold over all of streaming media.  She took a deep breath and opened the mystery notebook.  She quickly scanned through a few of the pages then breathed a sigh of relief.  It didn’t seem to contain any suicide notes.  Perhaps Emma Watson really was keeping the real collection of notes hidden somewhere only she knew, Emma and her mental fortitude not to read it.  How impossible it must be to have a book in your possession that you are never to read.  Billie returned the book to Kymmie.  As the journal left her hands she suddenly realizing if it HAD been the suicide book, what then?  She opened the book so eagerly, as if, she wanted to know if it was THE NOTEBOOK, it was as if she HAD to know.  ‘Don’t read it… don’t open it’ was her first thought, but, ‘I have to know!’  …was her second.  Maybe that’s how it worked, maybe you had to know.  You had to read it.  The curiosity of its mystery as it sat on the bookshelf drove you mad.  You knew what it did, you knew it was cursed; you knew it was destructive, but you couldn't stop, you wanted more.  She felt dizzy for a second, sick.  Billie made a small wish under her breath…

Emma Watson, don’t let a soul near that book.  If you really have it, if you REALLY do, it’s up to YOU to save the lives of anyone who might otherwise get their hands on it.  Keep it locked up tight.  And whatever you do, never open it, please, please, PLEASE, never read it, no matter how curious you might get.  Promise you’ll never read it.  You need to promise me you’ll never read the notes, not even one, because that’s how it starts, you read the first one, and then you can’t stop until it’s too late.  Like reading every terrible troll social media comment about a celebrity, each one burrowing its way into your mind with just a tiny bit more of that melancholy mixed with infinite sadness.

           “Wait where’s uncle Scott?” Kymmie asked.  She had been holding his hand when they went through the earworm wormhole.

“He’s your uncle!”  Justin exclaimed.  “Are you related to everyone!?”

“No… We just call people my dad knows aunt and uncle, I don’t know why we do that.  Dad why do we do that?”

Carl Lyle Lawyer shrugged back at his daughter Kymmie Lawyer.  “Ummm… It’s just something we’ve always done.  I don’t really know either, my dad and used to do that, so I do too.  I never really thought about it before.  I honestly have no idea where it came from.”

It’s a curious thing to consider, not knowing the origin of something in your life that you do.  Everything came from somewhere.  There’s a history to everything about everyone.

“Do the others make music?”  Kymmie asked suddenly, seemingly out of the blue.

“As far as I know they all play instruments, I mean Oak is a famous music producer and writes music and Pop too, Scott plays an instrument, I believe.  Why?”

“I was going to add them to my playlist.  You know what, I’m going to put them on this playlist anyway.  I can always scratch their names out, TAKE THAT PEN AND PAPER!  You aren’t so permanent after all!  And anyway, everyone has the ability to make music!  Who am I to judge?  I’m not a judge, I’m a lawyer.”  She started to write down each name on the playlist beside a number.  She even wrote down the man of mystery who opened up the earworm wormhole that they has just traveled through, William B. Way.

“Oh Kymmie.”  Billie rolled her eyes laughing at Kymmie Lawyer’s joke.

Justin and Carl laughed too.

“I mean, that was kind of funny.”  Justin cracked a half smile.  “You know, for a lawyer you’re funny.”

Carl stared at Justin with a very serious look on his face.

“It… Umm..” Justin pulled at his collar, “It was a joke.  I tell ya… can’t get no respect.  Soooo… how about that unrelated sporting event?  Go Maple Leafs!”

Carl continued to stare at Justin.

“Look!”  Kymmie yelled and pointed, as if she were recognizing some old friends at a concert.  Lizzo, Oak Felder, Scott Borchetta, Kanye West, Pop Wansel, and even Will B walked out of a shadow and into the street.  “HEY!”  Kymmie waved.  “OVER HERE!!!  WE’RE OVER HERE!”  She waved her arms wildly jumping up and down.

They ran down the street to make the group whole again.  Everyone had made it safely to the other side of the wall of sound earworm wormhole.

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 24th February 2019

Top 10

After one week off the top, Ariana Grande’s “7 rings” replaces her own song as done to “7 rings” the week before, for its fourth week at #1, and Ariana’s fifth consecutive week at the top.

This means “break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored” by Ariana Grande is down a spot to number-two.

“Someone You Loved” by Lewis Capaldi hasn’t moved at number-three.

“Giant” by Calvin Harris and Rag ‘n’ Bone Man is up two spaces to number-four.

Mabel’s “Don’t Call Me Up” hasn’t moved at number-five – you know, it was a good idea to make one of the least busy weeks on the chart the week in which the BBC completely messes up the structure of their Top 40 online presentation, by making the single art so large for no reason, and making you not able to specify and filter by climbers, fallers and new entries, which I feel is somehow to make me do more work for these episodes. I’ve been slacking, I guess, and the BBC wants me to write notes.

“Dancing with a Stranger” by Sam Smith and Normani is down two spots to number-six.

Post Malone’s “Wow.” hasn’t moved at number-seven.

Up two spaces this week to number-eight is Billie Eilish with “bury a friend”.

Oh, and we have a new top 10 entry, not a new arrival, but the first ever top 10 entry for NSG and Tion Wayne, as their song “Options” is up three spaces to number-nine. Congratulations, the song’s actually pretty decent.

Oh, and “Sweet but Psycho” by Ava Max is up a spot to #10.

Climbers

There weren’t many climbers this week, but the ones we do have are pretty massive, with “Advice” by Cadet and Deno Driz continuing up 22 spaces to #14 off Cadet’s tragic passing in a car accident, “Just You and I” by Tom Walker bouncing up 11 spaces to #19 thanks to Walker’s album release, “i’m so tired...” by LAUV and Troye Sivan also up 11 spots to #22, and finally, the continued rise for “Thotiana” by Blueface, up 17 positions to #23 thanks to a remix featuring Cardi B, and more buzz surrounding Blueface’s name recently. Do you think any of his other songs will cross over? I doubt it.

Fallers

Now this is a different story. “Nothing Breaks Like a Heart” by Mark Ronson and Miley Cyrus is down eight spaces to #17, “Hello My Love” by Westlife is down five positions to #24 (I’m just surprised it’s lasted this long anyway), “MIDDLE CHILD” by J. Cole is down 11 spots to #28 (It’ll rebound next week due to the video), “Sunflower” by Post Malone and Swae Lee is down six to #29 (Likely at the end of its run), “Swan Song” by Dua Lipa is down eight to #32 (And is somehow still having more longevity in its success than the film it was made to promote), “Gun Lean” by Russ (splash) is down 13 to #33 (Let’s hope this goes away as quick as possible), “Psych Out!” by AJ Tracey is down 16 to #34 (Album hype wearing off), “Undecided” by Chris Brown is down 10 to #35, “Happier” by Marshmello and Bastille is down five to #36, “Without Me” by Halsey is down 11 to #39, and, sadly, “a lot” by 21 Savage featuring uncredited guest vocals from J. Cole is down 11 to #40.

Dropouts

“Who Do You Love?” by the Chainsmokers and 5 Seconds of Summer is out from #34 (Let’s hope this goes away forever, it’s pretty worthless), “Lost in the Fire” by Gesaffelstein and the Weeknd is out from #35 (Once again, this song is pretty trashy, let’s keep it out for as long as possible), “Nights Like This” by Kehlani and Ty Dolla $ign (Currently serving 15 years in prison for cocaine possession) is out from #38, and, finally, “Thursday” by Jess Glynne is out from #39.

Returning Entries

Now, we only have one returning entry, which is “Think About Us” by Little Mix, with a remix featuring Ty Dolla $ign, which returns to #26 thanks to a video, which I haven’t seen, but do you think Ty Dolla $ign is in it? I’m not sure if they would have pre-recorded it when Ty Dolla $ign wasn’t serving 15 years in prison for cocaine possession, or rushed it because they realised that the one hit from this album, “Woman Like Me”, isn’t coming back now and they have to quickly see if they can grab another hit off of this cycle. Anyways, for the first time in what feels like ages, we have a quick and easy new arrivals section, as there’s only three, so let’s get this done.

NEW ARRIVALS

#37 – “365” – Zedd and Katy Perry

The big comeback single for Katy Perry, with production from Zedd, is called “365”. No wonder this isn’t doing well in America, naming your song after random numbers is barely ever a good idea, even if it has thematic relation to the song’s lyrics. This is Katy Perry’s 26th UK Top 40 single (Which is really impressive) and Zedd’s tenth. Now, I’ve liked Zedd for a while, ever since that song “Stay the Night” with Hayley Williams – I still stand by how his first two albums are pretty great for their genre and that it’s some of the best electro- and dance-pop to come out of the 2010s – but ever since he got a resurgence in America with “Stay”, he’s really been sticking to that formula and it’s getting really tiring to keep up with him. I hated “Starving” and have thought everything he’s released since is pretty in “The Middle” but hopefully this collaboration with Katy Perry can be diff—nope.

It starts with a pretty ugly synth sound that acts as a pitched-up bass with some pathetic percussion building up Katy Perry’s breathy voice until we get to the drop, which is nonexistent. When we get to the second verse, it’s the same with some added tweaks that I actually kind of like, such as the multi-tracked vocal harmonies, but it quickly transitions into that painfully un-catchy chorus, and a post-chorus using “Hey!” backing group vocals because why not? Then that bloody clock ticking sound appears that’s been so typical of Zedd this past year or two under some autotuned Katy Perry vocal samples twisted to make some remnant of a melody, because Zedd really likes clocks. Even stuff like “The Middle” was articulated and had layers, while this just feels like a lazy attempt to get Katy Perry in the spotlight again, and so far, I’m not entirely sure if that’s worked.

#16 – “Kitchen Kings” – D-Block Europe

D-Block Europe is a British and European hip-hop collective hailing from South London and lead by Young Adz and Dirtbike LB (Some of the worst names in rap? More likely than you think!). They had a hit once before with “nASSty” a few months ago and that was awful, so I’m not exactly excited to see them back, although again, it’s a collective, it might be an entirely different set of artists for their recent song about “Kitchen Kings”, which I’ll admit is a somewhat clever and catchy way of saying you cook and sell drugs, but we shouldn’t care because we immediately recognise the nasal, childlike voice of who I believe is Young Adz and realise that even if they are selling drugs, they can’t convince us that they are because they’re not intimidating or at least make any attempt at sounding hard like Dave or Fredo. There are couple pretty synths covering Adz in the intro, specifically his hilariously awful “Skrrt” ad-libs that he just keeps on doing and elongating until the chorus, which has some pretty bad bass mixing and emotionless repetition of “Mm-hmm” to replace any attempt at wordplay. Adz’s verse is actually pretty funny, not on purpose mind you, due to once again the pitched-up ad-libs, including those skrrt-skrrts and a voice crack in his falsetto “Kitchen, girl” backing vocal. Oh, and the last line about how losing money that he would usually be covered by his drug-selling is “Flipping hell”, or something of that sort, is delivered awfully. The second guy’s verse is painful, and evidently he was so offbeat that they had to completely get rid of the beat for his verse, getting rid of the percussion and bass, or at least all of its punch, by filtering it and causing those empty pauses in his verses which are just autotuned vocal riffs feel so much more pointless. This is amateur, so I can’t exactly be that hard on it, but it still shouldn’t be charting in the top 20.

#12 – “Please Me” – Cardi B and Bruno Mars

And now we have the highest-charting new arrival here, which is already a top five hit in the US, by some of the biggest names in popular music, both of which were behind one of my favourite hits of the year, “Finesse” (The remix, of course). This is Bruno’s 18th top 40 hit in the UK and Cardi’s tenth to reach this height. Does this have nearly as much fun, bombast and charisma as their last hit together? Yes, in the vocal track, at least. Bruno Mars’ performance here is amazing, albeit mixed oddly with a bit too much reverb while we have these pretty 90s synths oddly being put against dated trap synths that sound straight out of a Tay Keith sample pack, as well as a stunted trap skitter that puts a halt to all of the fun that we could be having with the intricate synth work, Bruno Mars’ great multi-tracked vocals and Cardi B’s groovy verses with enough interesting lines and even ad-libs, but the pre-chorus is janky and Cardi isn’t exactly a great singer (Although she doesn’t sound awful here and I do like her hyping up of Bruno in the chorus). It takes a darker turn in the bridge which is a bit abrupt and unnecessary, and Bruno crooning “Twerk it on me slowly” isn’t exactly something I wanted to hear, so it’s safe to say this is disappointing right now, but it could grow on me. What’s sad is that this relatively mediocre R&B track is by far the best pick here.

Conclusion

Yeah, that means Cardi B and Bruno Mars get Best of the Week for “Please Me”, but I’m not sure how much that’s actually deserved yet. Worst of the Week goes to D-Block Europe for “Kitchen Kings” because, well, just listen to it. See you next week.