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thesixthstar · 3 years ago

Note

Primes, character(s) of your choice

I'm gonna answer these for whichever character(s) I have the most interesting/relevant answers for:

2. Do they consider themselves an optimist? Pessimist? Realist? What are they like in actuality?

Nydra (drow moon cleric) is optimistic pretty much as part of her religion/is part of her religion because she is optimistic. She wants to believe the best of everyone and give everyone as many second chances as is practially possible

3. How do they carry themselves around strangers? Friends/Lovers? Family?

I'm not the *best* at roleplaying personalities vastly different from my own, so most of my characters, when they're around friends act as silly and rambly as I tend to be around my own friends. The main exception to this is HILDA (pissed off robot), who is the most different-from-myself character I've ever played, despite falling very firmly into the universal law of "DND is about projection". She is extraordinarily blunt, and always says things with as few words as possible. She's not comfortable with many people, but with those people, she's way more willing and able to admit she's not 100% confident and correct in her life philosophy, as opposed to the rest of the time, where she's not willing to entertain the idea that someone else might be right....

5. How does your character express they’re comfortable?

Leanora (chaotic stupid rogue) stops trying to impress people when she's comfortable. This is when all her worst ideas get to see the light of day.

7. How impulsive is your character?

As mentioned a moment ago, Leanora is a factory of the worst ideas you could possibly imagine. She doesn't just do stupid things without consulting the party usually (bc that can be a very un-fun table dynamic) but this is the character who goes to the local magic school, and buys the student's not-quite-right-but-not-disastrously-failed potions homework. This has resulted in hilarity and messes and she's been turned to stone by one of them.

11. How does your character blow off steam?

HILDA is definitely the character with the most steam to blow off, being filled with existential dread and rage at all times as she is. While she is in denial about a lot of it, you can really see a lot of that being expressed in incredible violence! There's a lot of grenades to be thrown, and a lot of uhhhhh needless cruelty in how she deals with organic life forms.

M'artha Stu'art, another half elf rogue, whose character concept is "housewife who finally fucking lost it and ran off to become an adventurer" also likes to indulge in violence, but also she does a lot of stress baking! Luckily her campaign setting involves a lot of access to ovens, so a lot of times she'll provide the party with delicious pies and cookies.

13. If they were a body of water, what would they be?

Nydra would be a lake, I think.

17. Does your character swear? What’s their favorite phrase/word?

Leanora has lots of reasons to go "oh sit. fuckfuckfuck noooooo" a lot.

19. How does your character act when they want to seem threatening?

HILDA goes with brute violence and a lot of looming over people. The rest of my characters tend go for leverage rather than "threats of bodily harm" when they need to intimidate, partly because I don't tend to play beefy lads (or beefy non lads).

23. Would your character want to be famous? Why or why not?

The only character I have that might want to be famous is my recently-created tiefling bard, Disco.

29. What does your character have too much of?

HILDA canonically has an endless supply of grenades. This may be too many.

31. Can your character visualize actual concepts in their head? Or are they just vague thoughts?

I personally really struggle to literally visualize images, and can't relate to people who can, so all my characters are like that too lol

37. What are some ways your character acts silly?

Leanora is trying to establish folklore about a minor god(dess) of soup. Any time the party is sleeping at an inn, she'll "spread the good word", especially if the inn serves a really good soup or stew.

Mercy (idiot Changeling sorcerer traveling with an evil party) will prank the warlock, by placing little toy spiders everywhere

41. What’s a texture/sound your character cannot stand?

I have misophonia and therefore so do all my characters. Disco hates anything dirty or slimy.

43. Is your character good at apologizing? Why or why not?

HILDA will never admit she has done anything wrong. Ever. Leanora will nope right out of the consequences of her actions mostly (or try to solve them by usually making a bigger problem).

Nydra can get a little single-track-mind, and when she realizes this in retrospect, she's usually OK about apologizing.

47. Do they consider themselves funny? How do they use humor?

Leanora truly uses humor as a defense mechanism. This is because DND Is About Projecting.

HILDA usually claims that humor is a stupid things that humans do, but when she occasionally has a zinger to contribute, she considers herself a comedic genius.

53. What does freedom mean to them?

One of Leanora's base ideals is freedom, in the sense of not letting anyone tell you jack shit about yourself. Her backstory is not Full Tragedy, but it involves a lot of her mentor and her social circle kind of telling her "this is how the world is, and this is how you need to act to live in it, and the fact that you're here means you're this kind of person", and the reason she's an adventurer is to prove to herself that it isn't true.

59. What’s something your character has realized?

We stopped playing this campaign shortly before HILDA actually realized this, but she was about to realize that, not only is gender fake even in general, but she's literally a robot and it doesn't even make sense for her to have a gender, she was just programmed with "female" as part of the concept of her existence. Her name is also uhhh, not a name. Its an acronym that stands for Household Integrated Live-in Domestic Assistant, and there are millions of HILDA units out there. The realization that she doesn't even have a name just a designated label, its like a toaster coming to life and continuing to just be called "toaster". The realization that she had been using a human designation that quite literally objectifies her, and the idea that this weird notion of gender had been foisted upon her without any input of her own and she had just gone with it without questioning that until now. That realization was gonna be a doozy.

I did not intend for HILDA to be this, but she accidentally became a way for me to look at my own agender feels. I really wish I had gotten to play more of that campaign for a number of reasons, but this is one of em. I also did a little bit of Agender Feels with Mercy the changeling sorcerer, but its less intrinsic to her character.

61. Who do they go to when they’ve had a nightmare?

It's cliche, but Nydra prays. Lately, though, the moon might be Fake, so she's not sure really where to go with things like that at the moment.

67. Selflessness or Self-Preservation?

Nydra is all about selflessness, and kind of struggles when she has to think of herself first, even when it means she's preserving herself so she can do More Good later. she's the asshole in the trolley problem who throws herself in front of the trolley to stop it, though she knows thats kind of also a flaw a lot of the time.

HILDA and Mercy are 100% self preservation, and M'artha is like 65% self preservation at least.

Leanora is very "por que no los dos" about everything, and tries to loophole her way into a Both answer whenever possible.

#tag #ask #ask meme

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mila-dans · 4 years ago

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Symphony of Sadness & Chorus of Pain

Hi, everyone! This is most definitely a different change of pace and tone when compared to my normal writing. I wrote this one for me and whoever else needs it. This 7000 word piece of work deals with some very real and dark issues in a very supernatural way. Its got depression, attempted suicide, and a whole lot of self deprecation. This is a reader insert so if you dare read this, be warned that it is very dark. It does have what I would call a happy ending though.

Please realize that if you ever find yourself suffering from types of issues like this, know that you are not alone. Seek help. You have friends around you. I am here for you if you need it. I’m not the strongest but I will share my strength with you.

This was written for me to read when I am feeling down and I hope the same can go for you. :)

It wasn’t okay. You were not okay. This was it. This was the end. Your end. The grand finale of your life. You were going to die all alone. Suffer alone. The most ironic thing is the fact that no one knows. No one knows how you feel. You can’t even describe the feeling if you could. The feeling of destruction. The last straw falling. The final structure crumpling right before you. This was the end of your life. Now, it is time for you to die.

_____________________

Before the end…

You and the Winchester brothers had just taken down a couple of witches who were wreaking havoc on any man who caused them any sort of suffering. And apparently, a lot of men caused them pain. As opposed to most regular hunts, you were the lead on this one. Couldn’t have the boys ending up hexed like the other men who you all found dead in the basement.

“Gruesome,” Dean described it as the three of you got back into the Impala. “Burn witch, burn.” Dean started the ignition as you all watched in awe as the house went up in flames. It was the best way to put an end to, well, all of it.

“You alright, Y/n?” Sam asked, turning around in the seat to face you. He was referring to when you got knocked out by the witch. You hadn’t thought anything about it. It wasn’t a fatal blow. All that happened is that when you confronted the witches while the boys were investigating other parts of the house, they simply blasted you and caused you to become unconscious. Lucky you, you happened to awake right as the fighting started.

“I’m fine,” you said with a smile.

“You sure?” Dean furthered. “Like no love spell or webbed feet or anything like that?” You chuckled a bit.

“No.” You smiled. “No love spell, no webbed feet, no to anything other than a headache.” Sam smirked at you as he turned back around, grabbing a bottle of aspirin from the glovebox and throwing it in your hands. “Thank you,” you said as you shook the bottle and popped a tablet in your mouth.

They were most definitely not fast acting. Your head felt as if a bulldozer, you know, dozed it. Funny. It didn’t hurt in any one place specifically. It just hurt all over. Your mind felt fried too. You weren’t going to worry the boys or anything though by telling them how you really felt.

They had enough going on. It always seemed to be some boss battle that was bigger and more bad than the last. The pressure of saving the world was always on them. When was it going to end? When were you all going to die by some vamp or ghoul or in Dean’s case, bacon? The work never stopped. It never ceased. It always seemed to be a never ending cycle of pain, torture, death, repeat.

You were set aback by your more angsty and depressing thoughts. You usually pushed those away when you were with the boys. It had been a while since you let anything slip out of your mind vault like that. Truth is, you all had your demons. Sam and Dean really had theirs though. Even Cas. To think that yours were even as close to being as bad as theirs was just one big laughing matter. You had never talked about your small and miniscule problems with them.

What was the point? Sure you suffered from bad things but it couldn’t even pale in comparison when it came to your family’s. They had it so much worse than you. Dean was in hell. Literal hell. He suffered for thirty years and then tortured people for ten. That was horrible. The weight of the burdens that he carried was unbearable. Trying to wake up in the morning was a struggle every day for him. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

You shut your eyes for a moment trying to prevent any more dark thoughts to enter your mind. You tried to focus on the rock music that was playing on the radio. It was Bob Seger, your favorite. As a way to get further from the unusual thoughts, you decided to sing along with the lyrics of “Old Time Rock and Roll.”

“Just take those old records off the shelf!” You belted out from the backseat as you reached over to turn up the volume.

“I’ll sit and listen to ‘em by myself!” Dean sang. The two of you smiled as you turned to the disappointed Sammy who was clearly not getting into the song.

“Today's music ain't got the same soul!” You continued to sing as you hit Sam on the shoulder making him smile just a little.

“I like that old time rock ‘n’ roll!” Dean followed. “Come on, Sammy!” Dean shouted as the two of you faced the reluctant Grinch. Sam rolled his eyes at the both of you.

“Don’t try to take me to the disco!” Sam sang.

“Yeah, Sammy!” Dean smiled.

“You’ll never even get me out on the floor!” Sam sang again.

“In ten minutes I’ll be late for the door!” You added. “I like that old time rock ‘n’ roll!”

“Still like that old time rock ‘n’ roll!” The three of you sang all together. “That kind of music just soothes the soul! I reminisce about the days of old. With that old time rock ‘n’ roll!”

The trio of you and the brothers continued to sing all the way back to the bunker. It was amazing. It was really great to feel happy again. You hadn't in so long. You would’ve labeled it as depression but you knew that it wasn’t even worth some actual medical exam to say what’s wrong with you. It was nothing. Even if it was depression, you had no right to complain about it. You had no right to say that you needed help when countless other people needed help too. It didn’t matter. You didn’t matter.

You tried to focus on singing with Sam and Dean but the bad thoughts you had couldn’t help but linger in the back of your mind.

This is stupid. I am stupid. I just need to go back to singing. I am with the people that I love most and I should be happy. I’m so happy. I am unbelievably happy.

You were upset that you couldn’t convince yourself with the reassurance of lies. Instead, you pushed the thoughts down. Deep, deep down. You just continued to sing with a false smile laced on your face, hoping to feel something. Hoping to feel happy. Hoping to feel anything.

________________

Do I matter? Am I worth the trouble of being here? Sam, Dean, and Castiel say that they love me but, do they really? Do they care or am I just a burden to them? Cas has had to take on so much in his life. You were for sure just some other person that he thought he’d have to protect. Have to save. He cared for the boys. He always has. He cared for humanity. Could they even classify you as human? You’ve done countless bad things. You’ve hurt your loved ones. Sure the boys were the best examples of people who make mistakes but they are heroes. They didn’t need to apologize. They saved the world. You might’ve helped but it didn’t matter. They were the faces, the faces wearing the capes with a symbol of hope plastered across their chest. You weren’t a sidekick. You weren’t even a part of the team.

“Hey! Y/n?” Sam called. “Are you alright?” You looked up to Sam as you got snapped out of your daze. You didn’t know how long you had been standing up in the kitchen with the pot of coffee in your hand. Weird.

“Yeah, sorry,” you replied as you set down the pot and regained your composure. You gave Sam a reassuring smile.

“You sure you’re alright, Y/n?” You nodded at the concerned Sam. “I mean, I don’t mean to press but you’ve been seeming like something’s been bothering you the past couple months.” You turn your head and give Sam an oblivious look.

“Have I?” You question as you start to fiddle with the coffee again.

“Yeah, you have,” Sam says slowly. You feel his worried gaze on you but you try to quickly change the subject.

“What did you need me for?” You take a deep breath before you turn back around to face the young Winchester to give a half hearted smile. Sam looks at you with the obvious worry on his face but shakes it off.

“I um, I was going to go on a supply run. Do you want to come?” he looks at you, suspicious of how you might respond. You give him a big smile as an attempt to throw him off.

“Yeah! Of course! Just let me get my jacket,” you say as you walk past him giving a reassuring pat on the back.

___________________

“Cas!” You called as you walked past him in his room. “You need anything from the store? Me and Sam are about to head out.”

“No, I’m fine,” he responds. “Are you okay, Y/n?”

“On food?” You question playing clueless.

“Not on food.” Cas walks up to you as you stand still in his doorway. “I mean, are you alright in the mental sense?”

“I’m great, Cas!” You lie with a smile. “I’m better than ever. My head hurts just a little from getting knocked out earlier though. But other than that, tip top shape.” You nod your head once more as Cas looks at you with yet another concerned face.

“I could try and see what’s the problem in your head if you’d like?” Cas asks as he starts to put his hand towards your head. You take a fast step away, clearly giving him more reason for worry.

“No, no. I’m fine. I mean, it’s fine,” you clarify. You try to ignore the worrisome look that covers his face. “I’m gonna go,” you say with a smile as you walk away. “Bye!”

Stupid. He could’ve helped you. He could’ve seen what was going on in your head and tried to help take the pain away.

You tried to push away the thoughts as you continued your walk down the hallway.

If he helped, he would’ve seen it all. He would've seen the fear, the worry, the anxiety. He would’ve seen every single one of your little, measly, insignificant problems. It would be a waste of his time to sort through all your overdramatic issues. How could you even know that he wouldn’t just judge you right there on the spot or end up leaving you like the rest of them? I mean, everyone that you have opened up to has left you or worse. All your old friends stopped talking to you cold turkey just when you thought you could trust them. That was your fault though. They trusted you and needed you and even though you helped them, you couldn’t be honest. Of course they left you. Everyone always leaves you and it’s all your fault.

___________________

You sat in the car with your head leaned against the window. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. They were getting worse. You kept trying to push them down like you always have but it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

“Y/n!” Sam called as he lightly hit your shoulder. You turned towards him confused. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

“Oh,” you say as you sit up. This isn’t good.

“You can talk to me, Y/n,” Sam says. You just continue to stare down at the ground and start to feel one of your old battle wounds on your wrist.

“About what?” You ask trying to play it off, unsuccessfully.

“About whatever is bothering you!” Sam’s tone starts to rise as he gets frustrated with your playing dumb act. “We all know that something is going on with you. You don’t even have to hide it. Sometimes you don’t even try to anymore. We are worried about you, Y/n. All of us. We thought that maybe you were just down in the dumps and would ask for help if you needed it but you haven’t.

…

Y/n!” Sam shouts as you suddenly snap out of your daze. “Will you stop that?!” You face him with true confusion. He points at your wrist. “You’re making yourself bleed!” You look down at your wrist as you notice how you’ve completely reopened the wound causing blood to go all over your pants.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You weren’t even listening to Sam. Now look at what you’ve done!

“I’m sorry--I’m so sorry!” You mumble out as you quickly wipe the blood that has stained a spot on the seat.

“Y/n?” Sam questions with a softer tone as you look up at him with watery eyes. “Why are you sorry?”

“I--I--I just am,” you try to say. You quickly ball up all the tissues and put them in your pocket, trying to reassure yourself that it never happened. You look back up at Sam and see the concern on his face. You try to form words to change the topic at hand but fall short of excuses.

“Y/n, please,” Sam says sincerely, “Please just talk to me. Just let me in. Let Dean or--or even Cas in. Just talk to one of us. Please.” You look down at the ground again as you try to press your nails into the palm of your hands in order to distribute the pain somewhere else. “Y/n,” Sam says as he moves his hand onto yours, opening it up. “Stop it, please.”

“No!” You shout as you throw his hand to the side. “I’m fine! I’m perfectly fine! You and Dean and Castiel just need to mind your own damn business! Now quit asking if I’m okay, or if I'm alright, or what’s wrong with me! Nothing is wrong, got it?!” You take a deep breath and fall back into your seat as you wipe the tears that had escaped your eyes. You can feel the tension in the car in between you and Sam as you go back to staring out the window.

You stupid idiot! You completely ruined everything! This was your chance at asking for help and you blew it! Now you’re never gonna get that chance again. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Sam probably wouldn’t have even listened to you in the first place. He had been tortured by the devil. He had been to the worst part of hell. Do you think he had time to listen to you whine about your emotions? Do you think he actually even cared? He was your family. He had to ask about you. He was designated to do so. It is just him trying to be kind. As if he could ever care about you. As if anyone could ever care about you.

__________________

You slammed the door shut as you stepped out of the car. You raced inside the grocery store as Sam called out your name. You didn’t even bother to look back or respond. All you did was search for the bathroom as soon as you walked inside.

The further you made your way into the store, the worse your thoughts got. It was different though. It felt as if they weren’t just yours.

What is happening to me?! Why can’t these thoughts just go away?! Please, just go away!

You put the toilet seat lid down as you sat on it, placing your hands on your face as you started to sob. You felt so broken, so busted inside. You felt so much pain. So much emotion. You just wanted it to end. You just wanted it to stop.

“Honey?” A voice called from outside the shut stall door. “Are you alright?” You started to sniff as the thoughts died down just enough to understand the complete stranger who was worrying about you. You wiped the tears and opened the door.

“I’m fine, Mamn,” you said as you gave a smile to the elder lady. She smiled back at you. She seemed kind and nice. A complete stranger. You always thought that it was easier to tell a stranger secrets about yourself than someone who you knew and trusted. “Stranger’s security,” you called it.

“What’s the matter, Dear?” She asked again as her smile made you giggle a little.

“I’m just overwhelmed,” you admitted. You stood up and walked out of the stall to face her. “I just don’t know what to do.” She took your hand and immediately, you began to think the worst.

She doesn’t care about you! Don’t put your burdens on her! Don’t bother her! You are being selfish if you think for just one minute that it’s okay to open up. Think of how as soon as you admit how you feel to her, she’s just gonna make your heart break even more when you realize it’s just charity. It means nothing to her. You mean nothing to her!

“I’m sorry!” You say as you remove her hand from yours and start to head for the door. “I’m so sorry!” Once outside of the bathroom, you begin to feel completely out of sorts as you see the crowds of people staring at you as tears stream down your bright red face. “I--I…” You duck through the rows of people as you race back to the car. You open the door to the backseat and jump inside, locking yourself in as quickly as possible.

Your thoughts become so overwhelming that you are unable to follow any thread of ideas or worries. It’s all one big mess of problems and fear, as the walls in your head collapse in on itself. It was all you. It was all falling on you. You had no idea what was going on or why this was happening. You couldn't even think straight. You could only close your eyes and be engulfed into the sadness and pain.

____________________

You heard the car door open, drawing your attention away from your abundance of overwhelming thoughts. You look up to see Sam get into the car and turn to see you. You were clueless to see how much of a wreck you looked like but you didn’t have to know. The expression on his face said it all. He started to open his mouth to probably try to console or comfort you.

“No, Sam,” you said, stopping any words before they left his mouth. “Please just take me home,” you requested as you slowly turned back into facing the seat, feeling the darkness pull you closer to it.

You are worthless. You are nothing. Look at Sam. You think you have problems? Sam has spent his whole life living in fear. Living with truly overwhelming problems. He has to stay alive so that he can be there for Dean. Be there for Cas. He can’t choose to die, to give up. He doesn’t have the option. People need him. People rely on him. He has a brother and a best friend who loves him. He carries the world on his shoulders and never, ever gets a break.

You once again become caught up in your empathetic thoughts. Your mindset was in complete chaos. For some reason, you couldn’t just think about you, you thought about everyone else and all their problems. It’s as if you could feel whatever they were feeling and think whatever they had thoughts. Impossible.

____________________

You sat on your bed as you stared at the plate of food that was set before you. You couldn’t eat. You didn’t want to eat. It’s not like you wanted to starve, it’s just, you didn’t care. You didn’t care if you were hungry or if you had to eat. It didn’t matter. You didn’t matter.

“Y/n,” Dean calls out as he opens your door and walks inside. You were out of it, again, not even noticing his knock. He takes a seat on your bed as he puts the plate of food on your nightstand. “Not eating?” He asks.

“Not hungry,” you respond. You would try to give a false smile but you are unable to do even that. He looks at you, clearly trying to read your face. You just pulled up your knees close to your body, wrapping your arms around them

“Sam told me what happened, Y/n,” Dean says. “What’s going on?” You can hear the care and concern in your voice. If anyone knew about demons it would be Dean. He was one after all.

Sure, tell Dean what’s bothering you. Have him laugh in your face when you rant and bitch about all your little problems. It’s not like he’s ever able to. He has to hide all of his problems. He has to haul them all up and lock them down, never getting to deal. He can’t deal. There is never a single second in the day that he has to relax or has to calm down. Sam always says that he can talk to him but putting his burdens on Sammy wasn’t right. They were his burdens. All his. It was up to him to carry everyone else. It was all on him. He had the weight of the world in one hand and the weight of everyone else in his other. He didn’t have time to care or worry about himself. It would be pathetic to ask for help. Childish to need someone to lean on.

“Y/n!” Dean shouts. You open your eyes as you take notice of Dean’s hand on your shoulder. You swat it away and stand up from the bed.

“Get out of here, Dean! Leave me alone!” You shout. Dean gets up quickly as you push him out the door.

“Y/n! Whatever is goi--” You shut the door on Dean and lock it before he has a chance to finish his words.

You slump down with your back against the door, falling onto the ground. The floor was freezing against the back of your legs. You didn’t care. It didn’t matter. You didn’t matter. You were nothing. You are nothing.

_________________

These men save the world. You save nothing. You aren’t worth saving. Most of the people that they save aren’t worth it. But you? You are at the bottom of the barrel. How you have made it this far in life is perplexing. You should be dead.

You laid in bed as the thoughts and feelings kept you awake. You couldn’t move. You could barely breathe. These thoughts, they weren’t just yours. They were Sam’s thoughts. Dean’s thoughts. Cas’s thoughts. You were being clouded by their emotions. It was a mix of all of their pain and all of yours.

He rebelled against his family, against his home, and for what? So that he could watch everyone that he loved fail?

What did he do when he wasn’t in control? Who was having to clean up his trail of messes?

It was all on him. Everything was on him. It was his fault that they died. Hasn’t it always been?

Death. It was his fault. It was all their fault. It was all your fault. Worthless. Stupid. All on him. It was all caused by you. The world would be better off without you. He meant nothing. You were nothing. Die. Die! Die! Die! Die!

“No!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” You screeched as you shattered the plate of glass on the floor, cutting your hand, causing so much more pain. You continued to yell for the thoughts to leave your head.

“Y/n! Stop it!” Sam yelled as he kicked in your door. You struggled to breath as the dark thoughts consumed you.

Worthless. Nothing. Piece of trash. Nothing. You should be dead.

“No!” You continued to scream. Dean tried to walk closer to you but you swatted him away. “Don’t touch me!” You screamed at the boys.

“Cas! Do something!” Dean demanded. The angel walked closer to you but you knew that if he touched you, if anyone touched you, if anyone tried to help, it was all over.

“Don’t!” You shouted as you reached for the angel blade and immediately all the hands went up in defense. Castiel backed away as you walked slowly towards the door.

“Y/n,” Sam tried to say, walking closer to you. “Please, put the weapon down.”

“You don't’ underst--shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” The thoughts continued to pound in on your head. You didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face or the ones that the boys had. You just continued to try and stop the thoughts, the voices, the feelings and emotions. You raced down the halls and out the door as quick as possible.

“Stop it!” You mumbled as you found a clearing behind a tree in a small wooded area behind the bunker. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. But now, now they were all yours. Just yours.

You are nothing! You are less than nothing! You deserve to die! You deserve to go to hell! It’s where you belong! You’ve done wrong, you’ve done bad! There is no saving you! There is no point! You should just die! There is no point in a maggot like you taking up space in a world that is far too good for you! Just die! You already cause so much death around you, why don’t you just end it?! Just do it. Just die! You are nothing. You are useless. You are worthless! You are unimportant! You are hated! You are stupid! Self-centered! Idiotic! You are dead!

You feel the emotions clouding your judgement. You see the angel blade. There is no stopping it. This was the way. The way to stop the thoughts. This was it. Your hand trembles, tears fall.

NOTHING! WORTHLESS! MEANINGLESS! STUPID! YOU ARE--

You take a deep breath and open your eyes. The angel blade falls from your hand.

“They stopped,” you whisper. The voices have all stopped. You wipe your eyes and stand. Your headache leaves. It’s all gone. You weren’t dead. You didn’t know what you were or what happened. You still feel the pain but it was just yours. It was only the pain that you’ve carried for years. The pain that you can handle. You still have tears fall down your face but it’s not as bad as it was.

You walk back to the bunker and open the door. You slowly walk down the stairs as you see Sam, Dean, and Castiel run towards you. When you make it to the last step, you give a smile their way and then collapse to the floor.

“Y/n!” Dean shouts as he rushes to your side. You just continue to smile, unable to see them through your watery eyes. Sam puts his arms underneath you as he scoops you into his arms.

“It’s okay,” Sam says as he carries your body into the infirmary. “It’s okay.” He lays you down on the bed as you just shrivel up into a little ball. You hear them talk amongst themselves but unable to make out what is said. You see your trench coated companion walk close to you as he lays his hand on your head. Sam takes a seat in a chair facing you and Dean sits by your feet on the bed. Dean places his hand on your leg, trying to comfort you and Sam takes your hand, doing the same. Castiel removes his hand from your head as you begin to close your eyes.

“Y/n,” Castiel starts to say. You can hear the shock in his tone. Whatever it was, he was lost for words.

“What is it?” Dean asks. You shut your eyes tight as you hear the three of them walk out of the room.

You try to sit up in the bed and manage to wipe the tears from your eyes. Fully able to see, you watch the boys walk back into the room.

“What?” You ask quietly as you see the amazed expressions on their face. Dean rushes over to you and wraps his arms around you. The second he lets go, Sam comes to your side to do the same. You feel their arms around you and feel pure joy and love for just a moment. Once the two of them go back to their positions by your side, Castiel pulls up a chair next to Sam. Worrisome thoughts fill your head again. “What’s going on? What happened?” You ask as tears stream down their faces causing you to cry from just feeling the sadness radiating off of them. “Please tell me what I did. What?”

“You--uh,” Dean starts to say as he looks at you with tears continuously falling down from his eyes. “How did you do that?” He says with an exasperated breath.

“What? What did I do?!” You question, shifting in the bed as you can’t help but be filled with concern.

“The witch hexed you, Y/n,” Cas says. You notice the tears coming from him as well.

“Wh--what did she hex me with? Wh--what?” You look in all the boys’ eyes as you become overwhelmed with the sight before you.

“She cursed you,” Sam pauses as he takes a breath and clears his throat, “She cursed you to feel everyone’s pain.” All of the boys look at you as if you should be dead. You realize that that is exactly what they must be thinking.

“How did you do that?” Dean asks again.

“Do what?” You ask in return. You take a deep breath and look down at your wrist to the wound. “What do you mean she cursed me to feel everyone’s pain?” You look back up to Sam in search of an answer.

“It’s what killed all those men,” Sam states.

“What do you mean?” You again ask.

“The witches,” Cas starts to explain, “They killed all those men by hexing them to feel the pain of those around them. They all died because of suicide or because of a fatal panic attack. Y/n, you got put under the same spell.”

“If--if I did,” you start to say, “Then how am I alive?” You look at the boy’s lost expressions on their faces.

“The spell wore off after twenty-four hours but, Y/n,” Cas says, concerned, “You are the only person who has ever survived it. You are the only one who has ever lived through it and made it out alive.” You think for a moment about what he just said. It made sense. All the thoughts that you were feeling weren’t just your own.

“You felt all of our pain,” Sam says.

“How did you do that?” Dean asks. You look in their eyes, realizing that even they couldn’t take their own pain most of the time.

“You took all of our pain and felt it for yourself, Y/n,” Cas says.

“How did you do that?” Dean again asks. You laugh and smile a little.

“That’s the fourth time you’ve asked that Dean,” you say with a smile. He just looks at you in awe. “The truth is, today just felt like a really bad day. I have dealt with that pain, my pain, all my life.”

“But--but that was our pain too,” Sam says. “You felt all of our pain. You felt hell? Lucifer?” Sam asks and you nod. “And that isn’t bad to you?!”

“I always thought that my problems were nothing compared to yours, all of yours. You’ve all been through so much that I’ve always hid my problems. Today, it just felt as if those problems and feelings broke out.” You wipe the tears away from your face and muster up another smile.

“You deal with pain like that every day?” Dean asks.

“Basically.”

“Why haven’t you told us?” Castiel asks.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” Sam questions.

“Because it’s my burdens, my pain, not yours. And I figured that I had already wasted my chances in asking for help,” you answer. “You all have done so much, been through so much, I have been through nothing. I am nothing. I am worthless even when being compared to your shadow.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Dean shouts. “Y/n, do you not realize that you have taken on all of our burdens, all of our fears, our pain, our emotions? You did all of that and are still here! You are the strongest person in the world! You are not worthless. You are amazing. You are beautiful and special and incredible!”

“You should never compare yourself to us,” Sam says.

“You can’t ever compare your problems to our pain,” Cas states. “There is no scale in the universe that can measure who has it worse or who has it better. Every single person has different pain tolerances, different perspectives. For you to be dealing with all of our collective pain and still think of it as a bad day, that is what I mean when I say pain is immeasurable.”

“Y/n, why on earth would you not tell us about what you’ve been dealing with?” Sam asks. You look at him and smile.

“I’ve wanted to,” you say. “I’ve wanted to for so long but I’m terrified.” You take a deep breath and wipe the tears from your face. Dean reaches up and takes your hand in his.

“Why?” Dean asks. “Why would you be afraid to tell us anything like that?”

“Because I can’t know if you’re real! I can’t know if you are just gonna be another person who says that they’re gonna be there for me then just disappear! I can’t go through that again. I’ve had my trust broken, shattered countless times that if I put myself through that again, I don’t know if I could take it.” Your voice starts to waiver as you begin to sob again. Sam scoots his chair closer to you as he wraps his arms around you. You lean your head on his shoulder as you feel Dean squeeze your hand tighter just as Sam hugs you tighter.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Sam whispers in your ear. “It’s okay.”

“But I don't want to be a burden,” you state as you close your eyes as more tears fall onto Sam’s shoulder.

“You’re not a burden,” Castiel states. “I saw and felt your feelings, Y/n. You should never feel that way about yourself.” He reaches for your other hand and grabs it in his.

You remain in the clutches of all three of them. You are with your heroes. Dean has your hand, holding it in the both of his. Castiel holds your other hand, squeezing it in the most compassionate way possible. Sam keeps you in his arms as you place all of your weight onto him and continue to bury your head into his shoulder.

“You are not worthless,” Cas says. “You are not nothing. You are not stupid. You are not idiotic. You are not self-centered.”

“You are the furthest thing from it,” Dean adds. “You are amazing. You are incredible. You are worth so much. You are worth everything.”

“You are worth saving,” Sam says. “I don’t know what I would do if you died, Y/n. You are the person who makes me happy. You make all of us happy. You can always ask for help.” Sam releases you from his hug so he can look at you. You open your eyes and see the people who keep you going. The people who inspire you to be strong, stay strong. These people are your world. They are your everything and for them to say that you are theirs, that is the best compliment that you could ever get.

“Never, ever think anything but the truth about yourself,” Dean orders.

“But the truth is,” you say, “I don’t know if I can believe you all. I have been told by so many people who I love and look up to that I am stupid, manipulative, that I am nothing. Those thoughts and feelings of self depreciation are carved into my heart. Wired into my mainframe. Every time I try to be happy, every time I try to let go, I get a setback. I fall down.”

“Y/n, those people that you say thought bad of you,” Castiel starts to say, “They didn’t love you. They don’t deserve your love. They don’t deserve any part of you.”

“It doesn’t matter what they say or what you did or who you did it to,” Dean says, “Here, right now, it is us and it is you. And I promise that we love you. We love you so much, Y/n. We love you with your burdens and all.”

“And I promise,” Sam states, “That no matter how many setbacks you have, no matter how many times you feel depressed or down, I will always be there for you. We will all be there for you.”

“If you want a shoulder to cry on,” Dean says, “I’ve got two.”

“If you need someone to listen,” Castiel explains, “I have till the end of time to listen.” You start to sniffle and smile.

“That’s our girl,” Dean says as he brushes the hair away from your face.

“And if you ever need someone to talk to,” Sam smiles, “There is nothing that I would rather do than to be here for you.”

“Hey! That rhymed,” you state with a smile and a giggle.

“Yes, yes it did,” Sam says with a laugh.

You look at your heroes. You look at your friends. You look at your family. You have countless reasons to be sad. You have such a big vocabulary of harsh words that you have been called and could call yourself but the truth is, none of them are true. You can believe that you deserved it then but under no circumstances can you believe that you deserve anything less than the absolute best now.

“You are beautiful, Y/n.”

“You are magnificent.”

“You are giving and ask for nothing in return.”

“You are the one who saved me.”

“You are the one who shows me kindness when I need it most.”

“You are the one person who always makes me feel better.”

“You are selfless.”

“You make me laugh.”

“You are a hero.”

“You are extraordinary.”

“You are the best.”

“You always make me smile.”

“You make me feel good about myself.”

“You are the representation of good in the world.”

You are gorgeous. You are amazing. You are wonderful. You! All you! You are worth it! You are truly spectacular! You are incredible! You are perfect just as you are! You deserve to be happy! You deserve to be loved! You deserve to live the life you want! You deserve so much because you have been through so much! You deserve to get double the amount of love that you share! You deserve a crown! You deserve gold! You are too good for this world! You are a spectacle!

You are loved.

You feel overwhelmed with joy, real, true, joy as Sam leans forward to give you a hug. Dean leans to your side and wraps his arms around you. Castiel comes from behind you and squeezes you tightly in your clutches. You were the most loved and appreciated person with three amazing people all pouring their love into you. It is exactly what you deserved and so much more.

You were going to have setbacks. You were going to have bad days. You were going to feel broken, lost. You were going to feel down. But I promise you, they are real. The people who love you are real. There are so many. Your affect on the world may seem miniscule to you but it's not. You can save the world. You make it better everyday. You may save the people who save the world. You matter. You help the world turn. Even when you have bad days, you will always have someone who will want to be there right with you. They will want to suffer with you. They would do anything for you. Never give up.

You must know: you are loved, you are not alone, you are worth it, and you must always keep fighting.

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Thank you for reading! Never doubt yourself or think you don’t deserve love! You do! You deserve so much! And more!

#always keep fighting #love yourself first #you are not alone #dealing with suicide #reader fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #spn family #team free will 3.0 #heros #you are loved #deppression #anxiety #love you #support one another #I love you

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fceulrike5470 · 4 years ago

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thunder-the-ranger-wolf · 5 years ago

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Flowers Flowers Everywhere (except for when it counts)

Well this is a long time coming! Originally planned as a thank you for the cards sent out by @scifigrl47, this is now a birthday present. You asked for Tony getting flowers and I really hope you like how that played out. Happy birthday!

One (Lady's Slipper, among others)

There were enough flowers to fill a shop scattered throughout the lobby. They’d been checked repeatedly for nefarious objects that might have accompanied them, and since there were none, they reached their intended destination without trouble. They started going home with employees, since they always showed up at Stark Industries.

It’d make a nice centerpiece, an HR representative mused as he snagged a pot on the way home after a long shift.

My wife absolutely adores these, a janitor recalled easily when she came in one day to find a particular bouquet she’d only seen in magazine cut-outs.

Some of them went to Tony himself, and Pepper had taken to wearing a different flower in her hair specifically to hear him groan whenever he saw her. It was their newest form of teasing and he loved it as much as she did.

Point being, they had no idea who was giving these flowers. Nobody did. Not the truck drivers who handled deliveries for the building, not the janitors or security guards who had to check each bouquet and clean up after them each nice. They just knew that the building smelled delectable and the flowers came fresh every day.

This first set were numerous bouquets in all colors and shapes. Some were rare and left alone, some were common and more than happy to leave with a coworker. But they were all thoroughly investigated to no end, and everyone was curious as to who could possibly send such a surprise.

Two (Coriander)

"This… whoever's doing this. It's possible they could be a rival.They might see you as an opponent." Steve wondered.

The super soldier left the tower for his early morning run and came back to a lobby full of white. It could have been mistaken for snow, the way petals floated through the air and coated every surface, but a storm had passed through a few days ago and snow wasn't quite on the menu. Rain, on the other hand…

Steve wondered if these flowers would survive a trip outside the building as he joined the security guards inspecting each bouquet. They had the process down, especially since JARVIS was on the case, but they were more than happy to have Captain America's help. Steve was glad to put his nose to good use, and while the flowers reeked, he couldn't detect any of the usual poisons he'd know of and the guards tested each petal they could get their hands on.

"Why a rival?" Pepper wondered.

"Coriander means hidden strength. Everyone knows that Tony is a genius. But what if whoever's doing this thinks the company as a whole is something to stand of its own accord?"

"SI has been standing of its own accord long before Tony or I were born." Pepper deadpanned.

"Oh yeah, definitely." Steve acknowledged, recalling several inventions he'd used during the war bearing the Stark name. "Never did get that flying car, but I guess that means whoever this is, they're new to the game. Scoping out their competition. I mean, SI isn't the only company in the news for this."

"Fair enough…" Pepper admitted. "Whatever they're doing, they best wrap this up. As soon as we figure out who they are, we'll be gunning for them."

"Thought you didn't do that anymore." Steve quipped cheerfully.

"Exceptions, Steve, exceptions. As it turns out, leaving the game doesn't mean burning all your bridges."

Pepper stalked towards the elevators and Steve waited a few minutes before he followed her. Crossing the CEO of anything wasn't a bright idea, but she'd been there long before Stark Industries made the switch to green energy. Clearly, that fire hadn't gone anywhere.

Three (Goldenrod)

Eventually, Tony found the flower shop they were coming from. It was maybe three and a half blocks from SI and it didn’t look all that fancy at all. If not for the logo, no one would know what they sold. A lot of the city was like that, and for good reason: There wasn’t enough space for big fancy signs everywhere and if you sold a good product, everyone would flock to you anyway.

The casier did not expect a billionaire to walk in.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark. She blurted out nervously.

“Good morning, Ms. Delian.” He offered smoothly, having barely glanced at her nametag. Sheila Delian had blonde hair and hazel eyes that went wider than a disco ball when she saw him.

“You must be coming in about the flower order, then. My boss expected someone from SI to send a cease-and-desist order, but we never thought it’d be you.”

“There won’t be a cease-and-desist order.” Tony determined. “Not yet, anyways. People like the flowers and there’s plenty of employees at the Tower. We could easily wait this buyer out.”

“But you want to find him.” Sheila confirmed. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? I don’t know how much help the shop can be.”

“Why’s that?”

“The order was sent in through our website through a series of prepaid cards. A different one for each order. And each order insisted on as many arrangements as we could allow per sendout."

"Do you know when the orders were placed?" Tony prompted calmly.

"Oh! That… that's definitely something I can look up. I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, it's just that this is the worst time for such a huge order, I-. Not your problem. Okay, first order came in on a Saturday, I remember that much. It can't have been long after the Spring festival. Everyone gets flowers around that time but this was all to one place-. Okay. February 13th is when the first order for Stark Industries came in."

"How much were they?"

"I can't tell you that. I'm sorry, sir. I'm close enough to losing my job as it is. All you have to do is say the word, I can get someone on the delivery team to spread the message that these flowers are unwanted."

"No need, and I'd rather not stir up anything with whoever's sending these. Thank you for all your help, Ms. Delian. I hope your day gets better."

Shelia nodded and offered the standard thanks as the bell that signaled his exit jangled overhead. He left behind three-hundred dollars in twenties and a goldenrod that she knew for a fact hadn't come from the store. He hadn't even browsed the aisles…

Sheila winced, wondering how this situation got so out of hand, and weaved the flower through her braids. Hopefully its message of encouragement and good fortune would rub off on her.

Four (blue and white Hydrangeas)

It got to be more than a bit ridiculous a few days later, when Security had to go through dozens of notes attached to as many bouquets. All of them were addressed to Tony and each of them were different in some way shape or form. One group of notes was sweet, describing how the flowers smelled and a picnic they'd be good for. Another involved promises of Tony's favorite foods not long after. What made the employees of SI suspicious is that these were foods he actually liked as opposed to something snagged from an interview or a passing remark. Tony has eaten countless meals in front of countless people, so someone was bound to get some of his favorite foods right. But the fact was that many articles in the genius behind SI involved false information or caricatures of who the man actually was. He allowed it in the name of privacy, and it would definitely help narrow down the pool of suspects.

The thing is, it wasn't unusual to find a flower shop bogged down with orders around Valentine's day. The person who'd done this was arrogant enough to wait until the day before and wealthy enough to ensure their orders got through. But considering the date it encompassed, these mystery bouquets weren't very appreciated.

This particular set wasn't exactly his favorite flower. Some of his employees took them home but at the end of the day, he was left with an array of blue and white hydrangeas. A quick search revealed that they supposedly meant frigidity, apology, boasting, and bragging. Tony didn't really know what to make of that. Boasting sounded less like someone's well-wishes and more like he was being played. If this fucked wanted to apologize, the best way to do so would be to quit with the godforsaken flowers and perhaps explain all this. Bit of a stretch, considering this had been going on for a few weeks, but it would have been nice.

Five (Golden Tulips)

They stopped the day after Tony visited the shop and everyone let out a breath they didn't know they were holding.

Nothing was poisonous, nothing was hidden in the notes, nothing about these flowers were dangerous save for the mysterious benefactor.

Plenty of names had been struck from the list. Fans had been contacted, employees vetted, colleagues grilled, to little avail. The answer came one dreary afternoon during a briefing on the Avengers' latest foe.

"You mean to tell me that you still haven't said anything?" Natasha Romanoff was positively whining as she draped herself over a stoic and rather annoyed Steve Rogers. "I thought that big flower show was yours!"

"What? God, no! I heard that was all over the news, but c'mon, Romanoff, where would I get that kind of money? Besides, how could you go wrong with some chocolate and maybe a sketch or two."

"Gonna draw him like one of your French girls, Rogers?" Clint crooned.

"I hate you. I am actually going to take those arrows and snap them all over my knee like a bundle of sticks. I'll strangle you with your own bow for good measure!" Steve snapped.

"Ooooo, someone's touchy!" Natasha snickered. "If you would just tell him-!"

"Whatever it is, it better not involve flowers." Tony deadpanned as he stalked into the room.

"How do you even know what he's talking about?" Clint whined. "You're a genius, not omniscient!"

"I don't. Never said it was me you were talking about, just that I don't want to hear about flowers."

"Unfortunately, you're going to have to." Fury announced with his usual grim look and annoyed drawl. "It's safe to say that Stark Industries has been the victim of an elaborate scheme made by our next villain, but they're not the only ones taking a fall. And I'm pretty sure they got the nicer end of the spectrum."

The wall behind Fury's head parted to reveal a screen full of pictures. Several boxes of chocolates, hundreds of teddy bears, and about as many flowers that Tony could stand were shown in various places.

"Some people got by the chocolates, others had their roses grow far beyond their measure. This was done to a number of major American companies with no true connection to each other. Some employers got away scot-free, like SI and Van Dyne's fashion empire, but others weren't so lucky. This villain calls himself Cupid-."

"Cupid?!" Tony spluttered. "Like the little baby angel guy that shoots arrows at the people they think should fall in love?!"

"That's what this particular pest is calling himself. Only instead of arrows, he's been sending flowers and chocolates and teddy bears to those who prove their worth or earn his ire. SI seems to have proven their worth somehow."

"That doesn't explain everything." Tony noted. "There were notes attached to each bouquet. They had many of my personal favorites, things that few people would know about me. Some things about my employees and those I'd consider respectable colleagues. If any of them are in the line of fire, whatever arbitrary standards he's using to judge us might not apply to them."

"Which is why this unmasking this villain is so crucial. The only reason this isn't considered a form of biological warfare is because no one's died from it yet."

"Who else is in on this? And what can the Avengers' do?"

"As a team? Nothing. We'll need your various individual skillsets. As for who's on this, all the usual suspects, Stark. The CDC Shou be contacting you for a sample of the flowers at some point."

"Alright. And what's this Cupid guy's aim?"

"We're not sure yet. We're hoping you can weigh in on a few comparisons we have so far."

"Alright," Tony exhaled roughly. "Fucking Cupid. Like I need another reason to hate February."

"That's what we've got so far. You all will be contacted by the members of this task force who can best use your services."

Fury left the room without saying anything further, which didn't give the Avengers much incentive to stick around.

"Hey, Tony," Steve caught his partner's arm when the genius passed him heading for the front door.

"Hey, Steve," Tony parrotted. "Got any ideas for all this?"

"I've told what I can. But this isn't the weirdest villain we've come up against, I don't think."

"Just the most annoying. It's a good thing I'm not allergic to flowers, because this past week has already been hell." Tony scoffed, stalking out the door and down the hall.

"I can only imagine." Steve snorted, keeping up easily. "But, uh since flowers, chocolates, and all that stuff is probably way out of bounds for now, what do you say we just go out for dinner?"

"Dinner sounds like the best idea I've heard all day. You gonna cook or should I break out my best disguise?"

"Don't raid the costume department just yet, we could just order in." Steve drawled.

"Depends. Like I said, it's been a long week. I get to be picky."

"I'll make it up to you at some point. Technically there's a bouquet of golden tulips that have been sitting in the fridge since the 2nd, but if you're sick of flowers…"

"I figured you'd have something planned out. And I'll have you know that I love receiving flowers. When I know who they're from."

"Well, at least these weren't… tampered with."

"Yeah, at least the fucker deemed my company worthy." Tony grumbled darkly. "Say, what'd the spies get onto you about?"

"This is so dumb. I absolutely hate them and they ruin everything."

"Okay, now I've got to know. You're keeping something from me and clearly it's on purpose!" Tony crowed, eyes bright with the eagerness of solving at least one mystery.

"I was going to ask you later. I wanted to do this properly."

"C'mon, Steve, we can still do it properly. I'd just know what it is."

"Yeah," Steve grumbled. "And the surprise is gone."

"Well, lemme at it. I'm sure I'll like it no matter what."

Steve rolled his eyes and dug around in his pocket to reveal a small black square nestled in his palm.

Steve stopped when Tony did, and the shorter man gaped at the box that had been shuffled into his hands.

"Open it." Steve groused after a few moments.

Tony did so without question and when he saw what was inside, he buried his face in Steve's shoulder.

"You know what my answer is." He mumbled.

"Yep. Would have been nice to do it elsewhere. Quieter, perhaps. And in private." Steve drawled as the pair entered the mess hall full of employees.

"Them's the breaks." Tony snickered, giving his now-fiance the box. "I'm sorry your surprise got ruined, though I must say I'm looking forward to that dinner a lot more."

Steve slipped the black square back into his pocket and rubbed one of Tony's hands between his own.

"There's that." Steve grumbled. "And there will be more flowers after all this. Proper ones."

"Maybe hold off on those for, like, a year or two." Tony scoffed. "If I never see another petal it'll be too soon."

"This guy didn't ruin the golden ones." Steve offered. "You love golden flowers."

"The ones that mean well, sure. I guess we've still got that."

The ride to the Tower was about as long as it always was, but Steve might as well have given him all the golden tulips he could carry with how pleased Tony was. Steve's goal was to keep that look on his face from as long as they lived.

#tony stark #steve rogers #pepper potts #clint barton #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #thunder attempts to write

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toongrrl-blog · 5 years ago

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The Mommy Myth: The War Against Welfare Mothers (Part One)

This gif is from the 1970s film Claudine, a romantic comedy starring James Earl Jones and Diahann Carroll about a garbage man and a welfare mother trying to make the relationship and where he helps provide for her home and kids without the social worker checking in.

We check in with The New Yorker, who took a break from their cartoons to cover a welfare mother named Carmen Santana (not her real name): she is Puerto Rican American (and judging by the text’s descriptions of her “wide nose”, complexion, curly dark hair, and thick lips, she must be Afro-Latina) who weighs over 200 lbs and boy the writer was having a field day describing her heft and body. She has no interest in “national or international events” (common flaw that goes across class lines), she spends her day watching soap operas, cursing in Spanish and giving her many kids “a good cuffing” and they just throw the trash out the window. Her kitchen is filthy and her philosophy is “what will be, will be” (a common thing) and sits all the time even when she is cooking while her kids’ bedroom is decorated with obscene graffiti; she had her first child at age 15 and went on to have eight more kids by three different men and her mother had three children by different men and now Carmen’s daughter is also on welfare. She spends the money from Aid to Families with Dependent Children (AFDC) on makeup and perfume and hair (honestly wasn’t that a thing at some point? Like Midge Maisel and her mother make sure their husbands never see them without perfect hair and makeup) and junk food for the kids and she also plays the numbers where she spends her winnings on “jewelry , beer, and liquour” and “trips to Puerto Rico”. I guess we are not supposed to sympathize with this woman.

Carmen was an example of a stereotype that was used to represent and demonize welfare mothers. Johnnine Tillmon, the first chairwoman of the group National Welfare Rights Organization saw welfare and the stereotypes as a feminist issue.

I’m a woman. I’m a black woman. I’m a poor woman. I’m a fat woman. I’m a middle-aged woman. And I’m on welfare. In this country, if you’re any one of those things---poor, black, fat, female, middle-aged, on welfare---you count less as a human being.

She even said that the biggest reason that people believe the stereotype of the welfare mother is that they are “special versions of the lies that society tells about all women”, sadly she wasn’t listened to in the mainstream media where welfare mothers were deviants in a culture that valued the rugged individual, relentless hard work and sacrifice, slim bodies aided by Bowflex or Thighmaster, and shiny blond hair with perky smiles. Yo because of this stereotype, women of color with several children are considered suspect. It was also another way to pit moms against moms, the resentment of packing the kids’ lunch and work at a dull 9 to 5 job or scrub the kitchen floors while this stereotype gets to have sex with whoever and drink booze with tax dollars. Even Time magazine went in:

Here’s a few facts: the average welfare family in 1994 had three members, the mother and two children. 39% were White and 37% were Black, African Americans numbered 12% of the national population but were about 35-37% of the welfare population and African Americans were three times as likely as White Americans to live below the poverty level. Only 10% of AFDC mothers had four or more children and 80% had one or two kids and figures in 1993 shown 75% of adults left welfare within two years and 1/2 of single mothers worked while on welfare and 1/3 were working to supplement the minuscule allotment and get off from unemployment. But that was lost on the media that focused on families with two or more generations on welfare (a tiny fraction of welfare recipients) even focusing on unwed teen welfare moms because they were...SHOCKING! Only 1% were teen mothers. Welfare mothers were known only by first name and she lived in the urban decay of New York, Camden (New Jersey), Chicago, or Detroit; they were black and unmarried and had a bunch of kids who don’t share a common biological father and she smoked and painted her nails and gave soda to her baby (OMG imagine 2010s soda freaks) and her face was pixelated in the media. Some of them were depicted as cynical about life and motherhood, it wasn’t sexy for them and at least they felt ambivalence (which was soooooo disco era).

youtube

Then came the 1990s where the moderate Democratic Clinton administration introduced “Welfare Reform” where President Bill Clinton ended “welfare as we know it” and he was just following his predecessors: Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan, and George Bush (the first) regarding their attitude towards welfare recipients. The Welfare to Work program who were being trained by job placement programs that prepared them for low-paying jobs in retail and in service and the resources for job training were limited (also if your hours took you away from your kids?). Also it was hard for welfare to work moms working to move up in their jobs and often mostly got gigs like seasonal retail.

The depiction of welfare mothers was different from the celebrity mom: she wasn’t ascribed emotions where her eyes welled up with tears or laughed, she wasn’t well lit with a light or a rosy focus, never seen holding her child up or clutching the child and magazines like Redbook or McCall’s never did a cover story with a welfare mom and her kids done up and showing the readers fun things they do with little or no money or touring New York City on $10 for a day or games to play while waiting in long lines (honestly that is a good idea, someone pay Susan and Meredith if the magazines do that). Also if you were a woman of color, especially a young one or a poor one (or both) you weren’t supposed to have the “baby lust” so gushed about in celebrity mom profiles; trust me I grew up a Latina kid in Central California and many older women like my mom would worry about the girls that want to have babies so bad or fall in love hard and fast, a young Karen Wheeler in 1967 can give all to family and babies and staying home but it is more precarious for a young girl of color.

The media depiction of poor people wasn’t always so negative: political scientist Martin Gilens found that when the “War on Poverty” began, where the Lyndon B. Johnson administration focused on eliminating poverty and started programs like Head Start rather than piss on poor people, coverage focused on poor white people in rural areas like Appalachia or in the Rustbelt where mines or factories closed down, these were the faces of The Grapes of Wrath, the Joad family who fought against hardship on their way to a better life. After Michael Harrington published his book The Other America, public support for ending poverty was strong. But then came the riots in Watts, Newark, and Detroit (just a few) where mostly people of color fought back against law enforcement and the media used images of African-Americans to illustrate their pieces on welfare, which reinforced stereotypes about welfare and as the coverage became more negative, the skin color got darker (even though statistics then and now showed many more white recipients of welfare)

How about how the face of welfare became so feminized? In the 1930s, when the Welfare program and Social Security began under the New Deal by President FDR, a lot of women of color were barred from welfare because of discriminatory practices, this changed with the Civil Rights Movement which opened up some doors for women of color to get assistance for their children and households. Before the Welfare recipient was faceless or usually a man, who got rich off welfare and bought Cadillacs with the money, something that Richard Nixon really clung to and he asked Johnny Cash to perform the song “Welfare Cadillac” at a White House event sparking controversy. Indeed when Cash met with Nixon, he gave him a private concert with songs that were more compassionate and less reactionary than what Nixon wanted. In the early 1960s, magazines like Look or Reader’s Digest wrote to readers about women who sent their many children to beg for money while the mother ate steak with their boyfriend, or worse, spent the money on narcotics and kept giving birth to more than 10 kids. The image of poor, fertile mothers on taxpayer money was more infuriating than that of a able-bodied man getting the money, but making welfare moms work was shocking (as the system was designed for widows to stay home with their children and not worry about money), even a stinging David Brinkley chafed at leaving kids at a daycare center...it would cost the taxpayer more.

Ronald Reagan coined the term “welfare queen” (look it up) and made exaggerated anecdotes and given how people were drawn to him (looking at you Mike and Nancy’s parents), he was believed despite him not citing sources or studies. Reagan voters fell for the image of a welfare mother who spent money for fancy cars, vacations, designer clothes, and played the system (there were a few like Dorothy Woods, but again if this were common, the landscape of the inner city would look a lot different...) It was a dark time, the Religious Right took control, Proposition 13 in California put a limit on property taxes and started many tax revolts to limit government spending, and let’s not forget Ronald Reagan opposed the following:

Civil Rights Act of 1964

Voting Rights Act of 1965

Fair-Housing Legislation in California

Legislation to declare Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday as a national holiday

How does that Reagan/Bush ‘84 sign look Ted and Karen?

Stay tuned.....

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gimmeyoon · 6 years ago

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You’ve Become My Favorite Sin [5]

Pairing: Angel!Jimin x femdemon!reader | demon!Jungkook x femdemon!reader

Ratings/Warnings: M for Mature. Cursing, drinking, smut (cunnilingus, dirty talk). Mentions of child abuse and murder. Also, contains religious themes.

Word Count: 5.9 k

A/N: Sorry that Tumblr killed links but you can find the first 4 parts in my masterlist

Songs: Wicked Ones by Dorothy, Say Amen (Saturday Night) by Panic! at the Disco, Black Sheep by Gin Wigmore, Heaven Knows by The Pretty Reckless, The Devil You Know by X Ambassadors

Summary: When Jimin started questioning his place in the world as an angel, you took it upon yourself to show him the darker side of life. Suddenly, falling from grace doesn’t seem so bad.

Previous | Next

As soon as Jimin materialized into your office, he knew that something was different. You weren’t behind your desk and as he looked around the room, he realized you weren’t anywhere to be seen at all. He quickly ripped the halo off of his neck and ran to hide it in your desk drawer. If you weren’t here than something else must have brought him and he wasn’t about to blow his cover. Then again, the more he thought about it, he realized that whatever brought him here had to have known that he couldn’t do it himself. Jimin almost cursed at the thought that his identity was already known.

The door that led from _____’s bedroom to the office creaked open and Jimin quickly crouched behind the desk. He listened as the door shut and footsteps approached him.

“Jimin?” a familiar voice slurred out.

Jimin rose to come face to face with Jungkook. The demon smiled a goofy smile in response.

“_____ said you would be in here,” he chuckled. “Weird place to materialize for the party.”

“Party?”

Jimin was left confused as Jungkook only laughed in response before walking back to the door. The demon left Jimin alone in the office without another word. The angel wondered if he should follow Jungkook or wait for you here. On one hand, he had no idea what party Jungkook was talking about and he was beginning to feel like he had crashed it. He hadn’t been called here by you, rather he had pressed the moon on his chest incessantly until he had finally felt the familiar pull of you bringing him into Hell. It was comforting feeling then, because he had wanted to talk to you so badly. Lately, you were the only person who he could be honest with.

Now, he was worried that he was interrupting something. However, there was no way for him to leave unless you materialized him back up to Earth and for that to happen, he would have to join you and Jungkook. Whether he liked it or not, he turned the doorknob and entered your room.

He was greeted by the sight of Jungkook laying on his back on your bed amongst your black silk sheets, his feet planted on the floor. He was levitating three knives above his body and juggling them. Jimin felt like he was walking in on something, but as he continued to survey the room, he realized that you and Jungkook were not alone. Jay sat on a couch next to your fireplace, a drink in his hand, next to another demon that Jimin hadn’t met. The new demon crouched down bringing his nose level to a line of white substance on the coffee table. Unfortunately, there was still no sight of you.

“It’s the best day of the year Jimin, there’s no need to hide in the office,” Jungkook said as he sat up. “No work today, bosses’ orders.”

“What day is it?” Jimin asked as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

“You’re kidding right?” Jay voiced from his spot on the couch before laughing. “Jungkook, have you noticed that he knows nothing about the boss, but he spends more time with her than I have for the past decade?”

“I have noticed that, Jay,” Jungkook smirked, still juggling the knives. “They must not be doing much talking.”

Jay snorted. “Don’t throw stones in glass houses, Kook.”

Jimin was just about to ask Jay what he meant by that, when another door opened. A smile spread widely across his face as you emerged from it. He quickly realized that Jungkook must be right about today being a special day. In all of his time here, he had never seen you in anything but black pants, but today you were wearing a red leather skirt with a black lace top that made heat flush to Jimin’s cheeks. His only solace was that you had kept your black leather jacket adorned with angel wings on as well, covering most of your upper body.

“I should have sold my soul to you,” the new demon voiced, causing Jimin to turn and look at him. He was standing now, a bit of white dust around his nose.

“You’re a messy eater,” is all _____ said in response before sitting at her vanity.

Jimin turned back and couldn’t look away from her as she finished putting her makeup on. He had always thought, perhaps even hoped, that demons would be ugly but the more time he spent with you the more hopeless he became that one day you would reveal yourself to be a monster. You always looked good and as you painted your lips a deep red, Jimin regretted his stares. Your eyes met him in your mirror, and you gave him a quick wink before returning your focus to the mirror.

“You got synth soul everywhere, Jin,” Jay chuckled as he handed the other demon a purple handkerchief from his pocket.

“Shit, my line would have been much cooler otherwise.”

“Love sucks,” Jimin said as he tore his gaze away from you. “You’re probably better off with whatever you sold your soul for.”

Jungkook roared with laughter as he stood up from the bed, the knives dropping to the floor with a clatter. He walked over to Jimin and placed his hand on the angel’s shoulder as he looked over at Jin. “You hear that? You’re better off in the land of wrath.”

Jimin winced at the declaration. He had become so used to Jay and Jungkook speaking so poorly of love he had forgotten the other dominions that were possible. Wrath was what had consumed Ben’s father.

“I didn’t know-” Jimin started, but Jin shook his head in response.

“You’re new, right?”

“Yes, and I shou-”

“You don’t even know how lucky you are. I mean you work for an angel.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow as he turned to face _____. Jin must have been her beauty, but even that didn’t feel heavenly to Jimin. It wasn’t a pure beauty, it was the beauty that cursed men and dragged them to hell. She was the demon of lust after all. Then again, maybe he was projecting.

“Compared to your boss, everyone’s an angel,” _____ shrugged before meeting Jimin’s eyes in the mirror. There was something in them that Jimin had never seen before. Her confidence didn’t shine as brightly as she looked at him. There was something else clouding it. Was she worried?

“I would kill again to work for a demon with legs like that as opposed to the goat legs on Kalgrath.”

Again? Jimin went to respond but Jungkook letting go of his shoulder and walking towards the vanity distracted him. He watched as _____’s gaze left his own and instead met Jungkook’s eyes. Her confident gaze was back to its regular strength and something in that felt wrong to Jimin. Had he done something to upset her? She had barely given him the time of day since he had gotten here and now, she didn’t seem her usual self when she looked at him. Had even her wink been forced, and he just hadn’t noticed?

Jimin took a step forward but stopped himself from going any further as he watched Jungkook place both of his hands-on _____’s shoulders and position himself directly behind her. He smiled his bright smile at her before pressing a kiss to the top of her hair. Jimin focused carefully on the words his lips formed as he whispered something that only the two of them could hear.

Beautiful.

Jimin was just about to interrupt them, when Jay shouted excitedly from his corner of the room.

“Boss,” he smiled. “I don’t have any more lines, so it is time to get this show on the road.”

You had been at the club for an hour, trying desperately to drink yourself into oblivion. You hadn’t told Jimin about your party for a reason, but he was here now and with every passing second it became more likely that he was going to find out who you were. Jay had practically blurted it out the last time they had been together and Jin’s decleration had left Jimin shocked, she could tell by the confusion etched all over his face, and you knew that if they were left alone for too long there would be no stopping his mouth from running. The truth about you had ruined so much already and now it was going to ruin your chances with Jimin as well.

So, you were drinking to cope.

In all fairness this was the plan all along. Every year you and your dominion celebrated this day, celebrated you, and each year everyone got high out of their minds on synthesized soul dust and liquor. It was the one day a year you refused to allow yourself to stay on guard in order to do your job. You deserved that much, devils work hard after all.

You hadn’t been showing Jimin much attention, but you had made sure to keep an eye on him. He had refused the vices, but he had kept up with the group all night. The dogs eyed him curiously, but Seokjin and Jay hadn’t left his side long enough for Jimin to pay them any mind. As the night progressed, so did Jimin it appeared, or maybe you had just been drinking too much. He was just as charismatic with them as he had become with you, and it even looked like he was enjoying himself. He had cringed when Seokjin announced that he was going to find a human to suck the life out of him and then he would literally do the same to her, but after the demon had left, he seemed completely unfazed. This was a world he was beginning to fit into.

Your close eye on him, however, faltered when Jungkook decided it was time for the two of you to dance. Now, you found yourself pressed up against his sweaty body, your eyes closed, as the two of you moved in sync with the music. Jungkook was good at everything, that is why you had fought so hard for his soul and why you had him at your side, but the way he moved his body was sinful. Dancing with Jungkook was one of your favorite parts about going out with him. It was always a good time when he pulled you onto the dance floor and into his arms.

His grip on your hips was strong yet soft. He wanted the illusion of being in control, but you and he both knew who ran the show. You moved around to face him, and he raised his brow furrowed in confusion. He was just opening his mouth to say something when Jay walked over to you both.

“Hey, boss?” Jay smiled. “I think it’s time to raise some hell.”

Jungkook chuckled as he pulled you closer into his body. “Jay, something else is ready to raise and he’s not going to be happy if you interrupt that,” he said as he pressed your thigh against his erection, as if his statement had been subtle.

Jay smirked. “Why does he have a little bit of a temper?” Jay asked as he held up his pointer finger and thumb to show exactly how little he meant.

“There’s nothing little about him, for the record,” Jungkook chuckled, but he tightened his grip on you as well. As if you had no idea what he was packing and Jay’s insults might discourage you.

“Pissing contest is over boys,” you started, as you removed yourself from Jungkook’s arms. “I don’t see why there’s any reason that we can’t have both. I wanna break something.”

“Then let’s go and I’ll break your back,” Jungkook pouted as he took your hand into his.

You shook your head in response. “Nope, I’m with Jay. It’s time to wreak havoc.”

“Wreak havoc?” Jimin asked as he approached the group. You watched as his eyes flashed to you and Jungkook’s entwined hands, but if it bothered him or if he cared about it in the slightest, his face didn’t show it, and usually he couldn’t hide much from his face. You hated to admit how much his lack of reaction upset you.

“Ah, Jiminie,” Jay started as he wrapped an arm around the angel’s shoulders. “This is your first fallen night, so it’s important that I lay out the rest of the schedule. Forgive me, I should have done it earlier.”

You tensed as you realized that Jay had done exactly what you had expected. You were about to tell Jay to shut up, but Jimin didn’t respond to Jay’s announcement. You hoped that meant he hadn’t picked up on what Jay had called tonight’s celebration.

“This – the club - was just a pregame. Now we move on to my favorite part. We let the dogs out and we wander around on Earth. Now you might be thinking, a) was that a corny attempt at making a reference to that song by the Baha Men and b) how is this any different than what we normally do?”

Jungkook chuckled as he pulled you into his arms again. He was always this touchy when you went out together but even more so on fallen day. Ever since he had gotten to your house earlier today, he hadn’t wanted to leave your side. After so much time together, it was much a part of the tradition as getting wasted and breaking things was. It should have made you nervous, because he was doing so in front of Jimin, but you were so anxious about what Jay might say, that it actually comforted you to some extent. Besides, it seemed like Jimin could care less about what went on between you and Jungkook. Maybe that was for the best.

“Well it’s different because we get to do whatever we want and no it was not a Baha Men reference. I’m talking destroying property, sleeping with several human girls, and stealing souls. Casualties are likely to happen, but a great time is assured. The Earth is ours on fallen day, brother, and she is about to get fucked raw.”

Jimin scrunched his forehead at the vulgar words and looked over at you seemingly for confirmation.

“It’s like Christmas for demons,” you offered.

“But better because it’s fallen day.”

“Why do you call it fallen day?”

You tensed at Jimin’s question. Of course, you had been expecting it, and Jay had practically begged him to ask after saying it three times in a row like some sort of Beetlejuice, but you couldn’t hide your apprehension. You blamed the liquor in your system. Jay went to respond, but you cut him off.

“They call us the fallen, don’t they? This is our day,” you gestured to the room filled with demons, causing Jay to raise an eyebrow. Jungkook began to rub his thumb in a circle on your upper arm, likely very aware of how nervous you were. You had done such a good job to make sure that Jimin didn’t know about fallen day and it was falling apart around you.

“What?” Jay asked and you shot him a glare in response.

“Jay, steal a bottle of tequila from the top shelf and let’s get out of here.”

Jay nodded his head, but his eyes still held the same confusion. He did as he was told, and your group walked out of the club. Jimin jumped as the lower level demons clamored around him before running out into the night.

Grabbing the bottle from Jay, you took a large swig from the bottle to try and calm your nerves. Jimin had seemed to accept your explanation so there was nothing to worry about. Especially if you could get him away from Jay and Jungkook.

Almost as if by divine intervention, Seokjin emerged from an ally down the road and waved to your group. The right sleeve on his suit jacket was ripped as if he had been in a fight, which seemed likely considering his dominion. Jay laughed at the sight of his friend and he jogged slightly towards him. Jungkook squeezed your arm, causing you to look up at him. He didn’t say anything, but you knew that his look was a promise that he would be back after he caught up with his friend. You nodded your head in response and watched as he left you and Jimin alone.

“So, they make a whole day for demons in Hell?”

You laughed as you looked over at Jimin. “Every day is demon day in Hell.”

“Then why is fallen day special?” He looked at you sincerely, causing you to drop his gaze. You knew he hadn’t had anything to drink tonight, so there was no reason to believe that he wasn’t aware of how weird you had been acting. He must know the truth behind fallen day. So, you did something you hated to do, you lied again.

“It’s just something I do for my demons. They work too hard.”

“Why aren’t you talking to me tonight?” Jimin asked, as he grabbed your wrist. He pulled slightly as if to ask you to stop and look at him. You complied with his request but regretted it when you saw how serious he looked. “I thought we were becoming friends, but you’ve ignored me all night.”

“Sorry, I guess I just got too fucked up.”

Jimin frowned. “You didn’t want me to come did you?”

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your forehead. “I didn’t want you to think badly of me,” you said in a small voice. It was the truth and you hated that it was. Why should you care so much about what he thinks of you? With anyone else, you wouldn’t, but Jimin was different. There was something about him that made you feel ashamed for being the way that you were. You wished you were better when you were with him because then he might actually respect you.

“I don’t think badly of you.”

“You should,” you said, as you looked back into his eyes. “You would if you really knew me.”

“Stop,” Jimin gripped tighter on your wrist. “This isn’t you, why are you being like this?”

“Happy fallen day,” you shrugged, before pulling your wrist from his grasp. You turned quickly and walked towards the demons. Jungkook must have heard you approaching, because he turned towards you with a smile. He motioned for you to hug into his side as he continued his conversation with Jay and Jin.

Jimin slowly approached the group as well and you could feel his eyes staring into the back of your head as he did so.

“So, after the girl was a bust, I was trying to figure out what I would want for fallen day, and I decided I wanted to fight the biggest guy I could find on this street. So, I did, and as you can tell, I won,” Jin smiled. “Anyways, thanks for inviting me.”

Jungkook and Jay laughed in response, but Jimin was notably silent beside you. You fought the urge to turn and see what his reaction to the story was and instead nuzzled closer to Jungkook.

“Come with me,” Jungkook whispered before pressing a kiss above your ear.

Intertwining your fingers with his and handing the bottle of tequila to Jay, you followed him further down the street and away from your friends. You barely registered as Jay shouted goodbye and teased the two of you for finally getting around to the final tradition of fallen day.

Jungkook turned down an alley and almost immediately pushed you up against the brick wall. The bricks scrapped at you exposed skin, causing you to let out a hiss.

“Here or yours?” Jungkook asked before kissing at your neck.

“Here, then we can join in the havoc after.”

“After?” Jungkook pulled back from you neck and smirked. “You expecting this to end quickly or?”

“It did last year,” you fired back as you wrapped your arms around his neck, lest he try to escape.

“That’s not fair, because Jay poisoned me last year.”

You laughed before pulling Jungkook down into a kiss. He accepted greedily, the both of you hungry in anticipation.

Jungkook and you slept together periodically, but since his damnation you had never spent a fallen day without him. There was no love, demons weren’t capable of that, but he was one of the only demons you trusted. You knew that when you woke up in the morning, there wouldn’t be a knife in your back, literally. On top of that, you had decades to get to know each other’s bodies and no one else made you come harder or faster than he did.

“You want your gift?” He asked through deep breaths as he pulled away.

“Oh bunny, you shouldn’t have,” you smiled, as you pushed down on his shoulder, more than ready to accept.

“Is that so? He asked, pushing back up against your hand. “In which case, I won’t.”

You frowned. “Don’t be a tease, and I’ll return the favor.”

“You make a compelling argument,” he smiled as he dropped to his knees. He looked up at you for just a moment before he placed a kiss to your clitoris through the lace of your bodysuit. “You know,” he started as he looked back up at you. “I want to take this time to thank God for tossing you out of heaven so that I can see this angelic pussy.”

“Fuck off,” you frowned.

“I believe the words you’re looking for are actually ‘fuck me,’ but the message was still received,” Jungkook, smiled as pushed your body suit to the side, exposing your sex. “Happy fallen day, baby.”

“You know, I love everything you do with your tongue, except for all of this talking.”

“Oh, is that so?”

You smiled as you laced your fingers in your hair and pulled him closer to your core. “You should be too busy doing other things. What did I say about teasing?”

Jungkook only chuckled in response before pushing your legs further apart and pressing the flat of his tongue to your clit. You moaned in response and pulled on his hair slightly. He went to work on your sensitive nub, writing the alphabet with his tongue, and by the time he made it to ‘O’ he inserted a finger inside of you as well.

“See you’re so good at this, you should just never talk and only do this instead.”

Jungkook pulled back as he laughed. “So, then I should stop directing the dogs for you and just take post here for the rest of eternity.”

“God, yes, I can just tell them what to do.”

“That’s a pretty bold statement, considering you won’t be able to get a single word out because of how good I’m making you feel.” You rolled your eyes. “That’s a pretty bold statement for someone who is letting me fall further and further from my high as we speak.”

Jungkook only smiled in response as he went back to work. The rhythm of his tongue against your clit sent shocks throughout your body and you moaned in response to his ministrations. Your eyes closed shut as you basked in the feeling of bliss that washed over you. He inserted two fingers now and after being together for so long, he knew exactly where to move them so that your back arched against the brick wall.

You reopened your eyes to look down at him, as you felt your high approaching and you pulled on his hair lightly to let him know that if he wanted to watch you come, he would need to look up soon. He pushed your skirt up around your waist, so that it didn’t block his view and continued working you towards your peak.

Out of the corner of your eye, you suddenly noticed a figure standing at the intersection of the street and the alley. Almost everything in your body told you not to worry about it and instead to focus on the way Jungkook looked kneeling between your legs. You weren’t against voyeurism, and if some horny human wanted to get their rocks off watching you and Jungkook fuck, who were you to deny them. You were in public after all. Yet, one small corner of your brain was begging you turn and see what was watching you.

You let the small corner win as you turned to face the figure at the end of the alley. You almost gasped when your eyes met Jimin’s but instead, you remained as still as possible. It was like approaching a wild animal in the woods, you weren’t sure how he would react, so you tried to make no sudden movements for fear of scaring him away.

Jungkook must have noticed your lack of attention as his hand moved from your thigh to smack at your ass. You moaned involuntarily in response, eyes never leaving Jimin’s. What was truly only a few seconds felt like hours as the angel’s eyes widened in response and he began to sputter unintelligible. His cheeks were a bright red as he turned quickly on his heel and ran away.

“Jungkook,” you whined as you pushed at his head, trying to get him to stop.

“It was him wasn’t it?” he sighed. He stood up from his spot, his face set like flint. His eyes were asking you not to go, but you needed to check on Jimin. There was no way anything between you and Jungkook was going to go well if all you could do was worry about the angel.

“I’ll be right back,” you promised, as you pulled your skirt back down before slipping between him and the wall. You headed off in the direction Jimin had left in, but after a few minutes of wandering it became clear that you weren’t going to find him walking aimlessly in the city. For a moment you considered the implications of forcing him to confront you. It was likely that he would feel his privacy was being infringed upon, but you knew that talking about it was the only way to move past it. You gripped the black crescent moon around your neck tightly, calling the angel to you without any more thought.

He stumbled as he materialized in front of you and when he looked up a frown was set deeply on his face. At least it seemed that you were right about it upsetting him.

“Stop,” he started. “I know you want to tease me about it, but I don’t ever want to talk about it ever. Okay?” he sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I should have just kept walking by, I’m sorry.”

Jimin was visibly upset by the situation and you hated seeing him like that. You reached for his hand to comfort him, but he pulled it away quickly, causing you to frown.

“Jimin, it’s okay. It’s not a big deal. Plenty of people have seen me and Jungkook. We weren’t exactly trying to hide it.”

“That strangely doesn’t make me feel better,” he huffed.

“I told you.”

Jimin looked at you puzzled. “Told me what?”

“I said you would think badly of me and now you finally see, right?”

“Think badly of you? I know what you are, you’ve been describing things like that to me since we met,” Jimin frowned as he looked down at his feet. “I messed up, please forgive me.”

“Who do you think I am God? What do I need to forgive you for?”

“I shouldn’t have watched.”

“I told you I don’t care about that, in fact I’m glad you did.”

Jimin snorted. “I shouldn’t have watched okay. I shouldn’t want to. I messed up. Sorry, I’m not like you. I don’t do that; I’m not supposed to want to do that.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to Jimin’s words. On one hand, you wanted to press him. You wanted to talk him into giving into whatever desire made him stop and watch you and Jungkook tonight. He was right, you had been trying to get him to sleep with you since you had met and right now you had just been denied an orgasm on your fallen day. So of course, you wanted to kick into high gear and do your best to seduce him tonight.

On the other hand, seeing Jimin so upset made you want to comfort him and asking him to give into something he was obviously ashamed of was not the way to do that.

“Then let’s pretend it never happened.”

Jimin looked back up at you and quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“As I remember it, me and Jungkook went off somewhere and you went back to Cameron’s to watch over her. You didn’t see us again until the next day.”

His face cracked into a small smile. “That does sound very much like something I would do.”

“Absolutely, baby boy. Just like you to be so pure.”

Except it did happen. Jimin sighed as he walked beside Jungkook to Dragas mansion. The demon looked at him from the corner of his eye and shook his head.

“Are you going to be all emo now because of last night? Because I swear to God, I will pay Jin to beat the shit out of you until you remember how to be normal.”

“Nothing like a good threat in the morning to make me reassess my life,” Jimin forced a smile. “Also, swearing to God won’t do you any good down here.”

Jungkook chuckled. “That is a very good point and pokes a rather large hole in my threat.” Jungkook knocked on the front door and he and Jimin waited for one of Dragas demons to let them in. It became clear pretty quickly that Jimin was not cut out to pretend to be one of Dragas dogs. His biggest mistake however, had been never asking what dominion Dragas reigned over. In trying to talk his way out of a situation he asked a tempter demon if it was easy to tempt people into sloth. Dragas was apparently the demon of greed. Jimin was sniffed out pretty quickly after that and he said that he was not one of Dragas’ dogs but was one of _____’s and had come here with Jungkook but had gotten lost. Thankfully, they seemed to buy that, but Jungkook had looked livid when Jimin was dragged in front of him.

Now Jimin visited with Jungkook as a known member of _____’s domain which meant he had not learned as much as had been expected of him. He couldn’t say that he was terribly upset about it though. He did get to keep hanging out with _____ the more time it took him to fulfill his end of the deal. However, that was likely to prove more difficult after what he saw last night.

After what he felt last night.

Jimin rubbed his hands over his face as the door to the mansion was opened for them. He and Jungkook offered the demon a quick nod before following him to Dragas’ office. It was becoming second nature at this point, and Jimin bet he could even find the office with his eyes closed. At the beginning and end of every week he and Jungkook came to talk to Dragas about business and every time Dragas was not interested. Jungkook said that it was politics, which meant nothing to Jimin, but according to the demon Dragas denied them but he would be insulted if they didn’t come. He is the demon of greed, so he’s never going to share with them, but because he thought that _____ was interested in working with him he felt he had power over her. Jungkook assured Jimin that he did not, and that it was only to stroke his ego, something demons of lust were very good at apparently.

During every one of these meetings Jungkook sent Jimin out so that he and Dragas could talk in private and it was at that time that Jimin snuck around the mansion looking for things. Jimin wasn’t sure if Dragas just liked the idea that Jungkook was potentially keeping information between the two of them or if he really was just an idiot, but he never objected to Jimin leaving his sight. Jimin had made a mental catalog of every room and what areas he had searched in them. So far all he had learned was that he very much disliked Dragas.

“Jimin,” Jungkook said around 20 minutes into the meeting. “leave so I can talk to Dragas without her ears, yeah?”

Jimin stood up wordlessly, already knowing that no one cared where he went at this point. After shutting the office door behind him, he quickly made his way down the hall and turned into a room he hadn’t explored yet. He let out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding and took in his surroundings. It was another office and from what he knew about _____’s dominion he was sure it must belong to Dragas’ principality. Jungkook had an office in _____’s mansion, though it wasn’t quite as terrifying. On the desk sat a severed head that Jimin decided to compartmentalize and think about later when he could spare a moment to freak out. Instead he turned away from it and got to work searching. He had made it through about half of the room when he heard voices and footsteps approaching.

Thankfully Jimin had taken to identifying the best place to hide when he entered one of Dragas’ rooms after he had been so easily figured out. He hurried over to the bathroom that was connected to the office and did his best to return the door to the partially cracked open position it had been in. He prayed silently that whoever was coming in had no plans to stay for very long or defecate.

Jimin listened as two demons entered the office. Their boots thudded loudly, causing him to shrink deeper into himself. Honestly, any demon that wasn’t Jungkook, Jay, Jin, or _____ scared him and made him fear for his life. Demons were notorious for hating angels and he just so happened to be one of those.

“They’re fucking idiots if they think Dragas is ever going to trade with them.”

“You act like that’s groundbreaking news. Everyone knows we won’t have to deal with the bitch for much longer, except for the bitch. She really thinks she’s hot shit, sending not only Jungkook in place of her but sending a dog with him.”

Something thudded in the other room and Jimin jumped at the sudden nose. He leaned forward just enough to see if his life was in any immediate danger.

“I’m just mad the boss gets to shove this through her heart, instead of me. If I had it my way, we’d all take turns while she begged us for mercy, and then the boss would finally kill her.”

Jimin placed a hand over his mouth to silence the gasp that threatened to escape his lips. It seemed that ______ was right. Dragas did want to get rid of her and sitting on his principality’s desk was the heavenly blade to do so.

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welcometowcwmondaynitro · 6 years ago

Text

WCW Monday Nitro 19/08/1996

Tony Schiavone claims that Nitro is “red hot!” as we begin this week’s broadcast. Oddly unlike most weeks they don’t tell us where they are, although it’s safe to assume somewhere in the United States.

Usually a little bar appears along the bottom to tell us where we are, but nope, not tonight. Tony doesn’t mention it either. I looked it up and apparently they’re in Huntsville, Alabama. Why they chose not to advertise that is up to you, the reader, to decide. We get right into the action tonight, as VK Wallstreet saunters out...

He looks very pleased with himself. I’d be looking a lot less arrogant if I was wearing a suit with a stupid dollar sign emblazoned across the chest, but whatever. We’re told this is a return bout between Wallstreet and Jim Duggan. For fuck’s sake. Apparently these two fought at the Clash of the Champions last week. Who cares? And who thought a rematch was a good idea?

Here comes everybody’s favourite super patriotic dunce. By the way, Tony thinks this of all times is the time to say WCW brings fans the best wrestling action in the world. He follows this up by saying they will later bring us the Nasty Boys, as well as the American Males. It’s like he’s taking the piss. We do have Giant Vs Savage and Flair & Anderson Vs Sting & Luger, which is a little better I guess.

VK Wallstreet Vs “Hacksaw” Jim Duggan

Duggan gets a “USA” chant going early doors. Wallstreet is also American so this seems a bit redundant, but then pretty much everything Hacksaw does is redundant.

This match is, as you can imagine, total shit.

This pretty much sums it up. This match goes on for what feels like an eternity. Larry says that a three year old could outsmart Hacksaw. Doing a disservice to one and two year olds imo. Tony calls Duggan “a very intelligent wrestler”, which causes a confused Larry to ask if Tony is ribbing. Tony confirms he is not.

Not even joking, this chinlock takes up at least 50% of the match, and gets applied twice. I guess Duggan needs to catch his breath a lot. The guy is not exactly a cardiovascular marvel.

Match ends when Duggan tries to take out his trusty roll of tape from his tights. Nick Patrick makes him drop it, which causes Wallstreet to pick it up and wrap it around his fist. Patrick admonishes Wallstreet. As they are arguing, Hacksaw takes out another roll of tape from his tights (how much does he have packed down there?) and blasts Wallstreet.

This is a foreign object, so it’s a DQ right? Wrong. Patrick counts the pin and thankfully this one is over. If it was cool for Hacksaw to use the tape why was Patrick bothered about it in the first place?

“Hacksaw” Jim Duggan defeats VK Wallstreet via pinfall.

Here’s our good friend Gene-O, entering the ring to interview Duggan.

The WCW brain trust in full effect. Gene asks Hacksaw about the nWo. Did we not hear Duggan’s thoughts on this a couple of weeks ago? Why does Gene think his opinion has changed?

Hacksaw says that everyone in WCW has been screaming about what they’re going to do to Hulk Hogan.

Hacksaw is also drooling. That’s nice.

Duggan basically starts repeating the same promo from a couple of weeks ago. Before he can get very far into his monologue the crowd starts cheering.

The Macho Man is in the house and making his way down to the ring. Please knock Duggan out.

Macho says that he’s on “the same wavelength, same frequency” as Duggan, which is sad. Savage says he has a problem with Hogan, but Hogan is done “in this lifetime, the next lifetime, and the one after that”. I guess Macho is a buddhist?

Gene shows a replay of Hogan whacking Savage with a steel chair last week during his match with Flair. Savage says Hogan is his wake up call, and now he’s not “laying back” even a little bit. Gene asks Savage about the Giant, who he’s facing later on. Savage recalls the Giant saying he was going to take care of Hogan, but not getting the job done. He says that “the WC(sic) world title” has had “nWo” spraypainted on it, and Savage has 15,000 stitches in his head. Either Macho Man went to a terrible doctor or he’s exaggerating just a little bit. Savage says he’s going to solve his problem with the Giant tonight.

For some reason Hacksaw is applauding this. Not sure what his beef is with the Giant.

We get our first shot of Tony and Larry this evening. Tony is looking very respectable. Larry is wearing a ridiculous shirt underneath that suit jacket. What’s the point? The woman behind Tony in the glasses is super excited.

Tony suggests the the nWo have “awoken a sleeping Giant” after his performance at the Clash of the Champions against Chris Benoit. They show an awesome clip of the Giant dropkicking Benoit into the corner.

That is fucking impressive. Benoit collapses in the corner like he was just hit by a train, then eats a chokeslam.

A brutal squash.

Anyhow, onto the next match.

Still not convinced he’s a real Earl.

His opponent is Chris Benoit, accompanied by Woman and Liz.

WCW pans to the crowd.

She’s a stunt granny.

Earl Robert Eaton Vs Chris Benoit

I’m not really sure why Benoit was chosen to get squashed by the Giant at the Clash. I mean, it’s not like WCW didn’t have plenty of jobbers available who could have taken that spot. We’ve already seen two in VK Wallstreet and Earl Robert Eaton. I would say Hacksaw but Giant dropkicking Hacksaw to the mat may have caused a minor earthquake, so I guess that’s understandable.

Eaton’s trunks seem to have been inspired by Spiderman.

Benoit takes control by stomping on Eaton’s head. We see some brief mat wrestling before Benoit throws Eaton out of the ring and chucks him head first into the ring post before hip tossing him onto the outside mats.

As Eaton is crawling around on the outside, Woman runs over and punts him in the stomach.

They get back into the ring, and Benoit continues to dominate. Tony and Larry start talking about Fall Brawl and the War Games match, which Tony keeps referring to as “the match beyond” - I don’t remember that tagline, and it sounds kinda dumb.

Eaton gets back into the match by choking Benoit in the corner and then hitting a swinging neckbreaker. Tony and Larry are now referring to him as the “Earl of Eaton” which would only make sense if Eaton was an actual place, as opposed to his surname.

Eaton misses a leg drop from the top rope. Benoit then goes up top and connects with a flying headbutt.

This one is over.

Chris Benoit defeats “Earl” Robert Eaton via pinfall.

Benoit gives Eaton an extra stomp post match for good measure.

We see the same Glacier promo that’s been running for what feels like years at this point.

Footage is shown of the tag triangle match between the Steiners, Sting & Luger and Harlem Heat at the Clash. Scott hits the frankensteiner on Booker and has the pin on, but then Nick Patrick sees the Outsiders standing in the aisle and calls for the bell. Baffling decision considering they were nowhere near the ring and not interfering.

We then switch to Flair Vs Hogan, also at the Clash. Hogan is in the figure four but grabs the ref and chucks him into the turnbuckle. The Outsiders then show up and beat the shit out of Flair.

Gene-O is in the back with Sting & Luger.

Lex is giving the camera a somewhat disturbing look.

Luger says he and Sting have a surprise in store tonight. Luger asks Sting how many times they’ve faced the Horsemen, to which Sting replies “hundreds, maybe thousands”. Probably not thousands. Luger says this time “we’re going about it in a totally different wavelength”. Why not just say “way”?

Sting’s face says it all. Sting yells that he’s living life “with a totally different attitude”.

Why does Lex keep making these creepy faces?

Sting says life in WCW hasn’t been a cakewalk for anybody, and he can’t stand Ric or Arn. “And boy oh boy, do the Stinger and the Total Package have a surprise for you”.

They walk off, and Gene is annoyed he didn’t find out what the surprise was. Wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if they’d just blabbed it there and then, would it Gene?

Oh good, it’s Disco. Once in the ring he tries to do the Macarena and fails. What a dicksplash.

His opponent is Scott Norton.

Norton comes out looking pretty chilled. No need to be intense, it’s only Disco after all. This gon’ be a squash.

Uh... good effort? The speech bubble says “I stink, brother”, in case you didn’t understand what putting Hogan’s head on a skunk’s body entailed.

Disco Inferno Vs Scott Norton

As soon as Norton gets into the ring he slaps Disco in the chest. Disco sells it like Norton’s hand was a knife.

Norton misses a running splash into the corner on Disco, who then proceeds to whack Norton on the back a few times. It’s obvious this is having no effect on Norton, so Disco in his infinite wisdom turns around and starts dancing instead.

It ends about as well as you’d expect.

Disco just gets pummelled throughout this match. Norton no sells every punch and kick Disco attempts.

Norton hits Disco with his shoulder breaker finisher. Tony says “that’ll snap a scapula”. What the fuck is a scapula? To google. OK, it’s a medical term for shoulder blade. Why not just say that?

That’s his finisher so you’d think that would be that, but nope. Norton yells threats to Ice Train into the camera, then hits an armbreaker and locks in a single armbar for the submission win.

Scott Norton defeats Disco Inferno via submission.

“TRAIN, I’M IN YOUR FACE, SON”

Scary.

Next we go to an interview with Okerlund, Teddy Long and Ice Train.

Holla, holla, holla. Train is looking suave tonight, except for that massive bandage across his chest and arm. Shouldn’t that be under the shirt rather than over it?

Teddy reminds us that he was chokeslammed by the Giant, and thanks everyone for the cards and letters he received wishing him well. I’m sure they were flooding in. Long says Norton didn’t beat Ice Train at Hog Wild because the ref called the match due to Ice Train taking such a beating. Pretty sure that still counts as a loss, but OK.

They show Ice Train on a laptop, apparently talking to people on the WCW website, before getting attacked by Norton.

Firstly, I love those old school monitors. That’s some seriously thicc back. How bored would you have to be to stop watching the Clash to talk to Ice Train of all people though?

Can’t help but notice that laptop is turned off. Ice Train was apparently just staring at a black screen the entire time.

Ice Train starts talking but I have very little idea what he’s saying. Roughly translated something like “big coward comes out of the locker room, attacking me when I’m online talking to all the soul train fans out there, all my rock n roll trains”.

Teddy is as confused as me. Ice Train says that Norton can’t always attack Train when his back is turned, he’s got to “come, hook up, and look into my eyes”. Train takes off his shades for dramatic effect.

“Then, when you look into my eyes, you gon’ be face to face, brother, with the Train”. He says he won’t always be running around here looking like a mummy. Well, if you put your bandages on properly that would be a start.

They air an ad for Saturday Night and Tony totally fucks it up, calling Ric Flair “Ric Flower” and then stumbling over the 6:05 start time too. Whoops.

Next out is my main man.

Lord Steven, as usual looking like he’s just walked into a sewer.

That is not a happy camper.

Sadly no promo time for Lord Steven. His opponent is “Ice Man” Dean Malenko.

“Lord” Steven Regal Vs Dean “Stinko” Malenko

Dean’s sparkly little vest amuses me. Where do you buy something like that?

Mat wrestling to start things off.

Here’s a visual nobody asked for. Time to move to a different camera angle, maybe?

Regal does a cartwheel.

He’s just having a lot of fun. It’s actually a pretty good match between two very good wrestlers. Regal is obviously not in the best shape and a little slow, but he’s keeping up with Malenko nonetheless.

Regal is sweating pretty hard. Dat gut too. Malenko’s getting a whiff of that armpit. He is not having a good time.

More unsettling visuals. Poor Deano.

Second half of the match has basically been a bunch of rest holds. I think Regal is gassed. Sweat is literally pouring off his face.

Stinko manages to get himself back into the game and hits Lord Steven with an impressive german suplex.

He hits a second and holds on for a pin, but only gets a two.

Regal tries about a hundred different pin attempts before Stinko cradles him for the surprise win.

Dean Malenko defeats “Lord” Steven Regal via pinfall.

Larry: I always say a match is only three seconds away from being over.

Thanks for that pearl of wisdom, Larry.

We’re with Okerland again. This time he’s interviewing the Horsemen.

Arn refers to Sting saying that he didn’t like Ric or Arn, to which Arn replies he never needed anybody to like him as long as he had the Horsemen backing him up. He says he never needed to have a weapon in his back pocket to feel tough. Odd thing to say considering the Horsemen’s well established history of cheating, but okay. Arn says he has guts and Sting & Luger are in for a fight tonight.

Flair yells something indistinguishable about the Horsemen in his usual strange, high pitched voice. He says the Horsemen believe in “wine, women and song” and says tonight “the two pretty boys”, referring to Luger and Sting, will have to walk that aisle.

What a crazy guy.

Fireworks go off as hour number two begins.

They try to throw to Eric Bischoff, but Flair just keeps talking. He tells Hogan that if he’s watching tonight, that “between Babe Ruth, Michael Jordan and Hulk Hogan, the Nature Boy’s got more playing time than you got shower time”. I assume he’s talking about having sex with women, but it’s hard to say for sure.

So, we’ve just had explosions and hype. A big promo from the Horsemen. Hour number two is going to kick off in a huge way, right? We’re going to get...

Oh. The Nasty Boys. Great.Look at that shirt design. An epileptic nightmare.

Their opponents are Public Enemy.

Ugh.

Public Enemy set up their trusty table at ringside and then get into the ring. The crowd are waving their hands in the air like they just don’t care.

The Nasty Boys Vs Public Enemy

The match starts off as a total brawl, with all four men punching and kicking. Knobbs and Grunge end up fighting on the outside, whilst Sags and Rocco Rock compete inside the ring.

Most of the match is shown like this. I assume it’s a tornado tag as the ref has not tried to establish any form of control, and each team is swapping dance partners regularly.

At one point Johnny Grunge goes to hit the Cactus Jack elbow from the apron to the floor, but Knobbs rolls out of the way.

That’s gotta be a painful landing, particularly for a man of Grunge’s size.

You know the match is coming to a close when Grunge places Sags on the table.

In what I can only describe as insanely stupid, Rocco Rock then does a forward somersault onto Grunge...

Sags moves off the table, and Public Enemy go crashing through it.

Idiots. Rocco lands right on Grunge’s midriff. It looks really painful. Bischoff and Heenan laugh heartily. Heenan also notes that it’s pretty fucking embarrassing to be outsmarted by the Nasty Boys. Knobbs then covers Rocco Rock in the ring and this one is over. I still don’t understand why Rocco flipped himself onto Grunge. There must have been a better way to achieve what they wanted. It’s also funny to me that Rocco got pinned - I mean, he didn’t really take any damage from going through the table, it was literally all on Grunge. Oh well.

The Nasty Boys defeat Public Enemy via pinfall.

Guess who has come scurrying out again?

Of course, it’s Okerlund. I swear he’s interviewed literally 80% of the active roster tonight. So far we’ve had interviews with Duggan, Savage, Sting & Luger, Teddy Long & Ice Train, the Horsemen and now the Nasty Boys. Gene is working overtime. It’s basically the Mean Gene show at this point. “Mean Gene featuring WCW wrestling”.

Anyway, Gene asks the Nasty Boys about the nWo. This is the third time now. Sags starts off by saying “hey, NWL (?), backfiring nothing. Everybody that enters Nastyville is leaving Nastyville like those two saps just did - face down baby. Nasty as we wanna be, and that’s all we’re gonna be. NWO, WCW, we’re right here. We’re just nasty as we need to be when we wanna be”. Riveting stuff.

Gene says he wants to “confront” Knobbs publicly on television, then suggests that Knobbs - being a known friend of Hogan - is somehow in cahoots with the nWo. Knobbs calls Gene “shorty” in a disgustingly sick burn, then says Hogan can do whatever he wants and the Nasty’s will do whatever they want. Knobbs says they want the WCW tag team titles - and that’s that. So much for the big confrontation.

We get our first shot of Bischoff and Heenan sitting at the big boy desk. Bischoff claims WCW isn’t paranoid about the nWo. Bullshit. Heenan talks about WCW being ready to fight whilst the people behind him chant “weasel”.

We go to the standard WCW magazine commercial, featuring a kid saying the WCW magazine is “really cool” whilst morphing into Sting.

Obviously it just happens to be a magazine with Sting on the front cover. The kid then morphs back into himself, but now he’s dressed like Sting.

OK.

So we see more footage from Clash of the Champions. They’re pushing the highlights of this show pretty damn hard. Apparently Eddie Guerrero defeating DDP for the Battle Bowl ring. Why would Eddie or anybody else give a shit about that stupid ring? And even if he did, what does beating DDP in a singles match even prove? Battle Bowl is a tournament, so winning the ring in a random singles match means nothing. Idiocy.

Anyhow, after the match DDP goes to shake Guerrero’s hand, and like a white meat babyface idiot Guerrero accepts the handshake...

Only to get hit with a diamond cutter. Serves you right for being such a gullible chode. The sooner Eddie turns heel the better. What’s hilarious is that as DDP continues to beat up Eddie, putting him on the top turnbuckle for another diamond cutter, Chavo Guerrero Jr comes running out to “make the save”. Except DDP literally pushes him away like a child...

Then hits a really, really shitty looking diamond cutter off the top turnbucke on Eddie. Chavo couldn’t look like more of a bell-end here if he tried. Totally useless. That leads us into the next match, DDP Vs Chavo Guerrero Jr.

DDP Vs Chavo Guerrero Jr

Chavo starts out with a couple of dropkicks sending DDP outside, then dives out onto Page on the floor. Page somehow ends up getting Chavo into this position:

And just kicks the shit out of him. Kind of amusing.

DDP pretty much dominates the match, smacking Chavo around like a nobody. Chavo gets a couple of rollups but absolutely no real offense after his initial moves at the start of the match. Page hits Chavo with a brutal looking sit down powerbomb...

That gets an “ohhhh” from the crowd. The ref starts to count the pin but Page rolls out of the pin and gets back to his feet. After hitting a belly to belly and once again releasing the pin attempt, Bischoff yells for Page to be disqualified. For what? If he wants to release the pin then he’s within his rights to do so. Considering WCW can’t even stay consistent with the over the top rope DQ rule I’m not sure they really want to start adding other ridiculous reasons to DQ somebody. Anyhow, Page signals for the Diamond Cutter. Chavo however manages to reverse it into a pin attempt and gets the surprise three count.

Now DDP looks like the chode.

Chavo Guerrero Jr defeats DDP via pinfall.

DDP hits a Diamond Cutter on Chavo post match, then...

Starts removing Nick Patrick’s belt. Uhhh... OK, he’s just going to whip Chavo with it. I was starting to get worried as to where this was going.

After DDP whips Chavo a few times with the belt, Randy Anderson comes sprinting out to try and calm things down. Randy manages to grab the belt off Page and Page then leaves the ring. Anderson then asks Patrick why he didn’t try to stop DDP. In Patrick’s defence, what was he supposed to do? Bischoff is saying he wants to discuss Parick’s conduct with the Executive Commitee, but Heenan rightly points out that Patrick really couldn’t do much with Page going mental whipping Chavo. The only reason Randy Anderson was able to take the belt off Page was because he snuck up behind him.

You’ve got to be kidding me - Okerlund AGAIN? Might as well just get him a ringside seat at this point. Patrick says he was waiting for back up before trying to stop DDP. It’s really a fair point, and if WCW is trying to paint Patrick as in the wrong here it’s frankly ridiculous. Gene goes on to say that people are pointing fingers at Patrick over his supposedly questionable officiating, to which Patrick responds that the reason he’s getting so much grief is because Gene is being a shit stirring dickface. He doesn’t say it in quite those words but that’s essentially the implication. Hard to disagree. Parick does seem to have some delusions of grandeur, however, as he says “the media - the newspapers, the magazines” - Nick, there are no newspapers or magazines outside of the WCW magazine who give a shit about any of this. Hell, most of the fans don’t give a shit about it either. The only reason Okerlund cares is because he loves stirring the pot and causing trouble. Further proving that point, Okerlund brings up Patrick recently buying a nice home and snidely comments “I know the kind of dough you make, that’s pretty impressive”. What an asshole.

Our next upcoming match is the American Males Vs Harlem Heat for the tag team titles. They decide to throw back to September 1995 - nearly a year ago - to show the American Males beating Harlem Heat to win the WCW Tag Team titles.

The pair of them are dressed like male strippers, which always brings legitimacy to a set of titles. The held onto the titles for precisely 9 days before dropping them back to Harlem Heat on WCW Saturday Night, so, yeah. Barely worth bringing up. Bischoff doesn’t mention that part.

AMERICAN MALES, AMERICAN MALES, AMERICAN MALES....

At least they’ve lost the suspenders. They barely get half way down the aisle before their awful music is cut and Harlem Heat’s music plays.

For the record, Stevie Ray is back there somewhere. It isn’t Booker and Sister Sherri defending the titles. Booker starts yelling about the Nasty Boys, showing how much attention they’re paying to the American Males. Booker also yells that what the Nasty Boys did was “illegal”, and we all know how much Booker hates illegal tactics.

Oh, by the way, the announcers mention that Bagwell has recently been in a movie. It was “Day of the Warrior”...

OK. Which one is Bagwell?

American Males Vs Harlem Heat (w/Sister Sherri & Col. Rob Parker)

Nick Patrick is the official again, which is odd considering how supposedly controversial he is. If there was so much suspicion over him then surely by now he would have been suspended? Anyway, the match starts off with Stevie Ray beating the shit out of Scotty Riggs, before choking him against the ropes.

Booker tags in and Riggs briefly gets some offence before Booker puts the Heat back in control. We get the old trick of one tag team partner being distracting the ref, allowing the other tag team takes advantage. Heat just punch and kick the hell out of Riggs in the corner.

A proper old school beat down. Sherri is now distracting Patrick, although it’s for no obvious benefit as Stevie Ray is just wrestling Riggs normally in the ring, hitting him with a suplex.

Booker goes to jump off the top rope onto Riggs but gets caught mid air with a drop kick...

Ouch.

Riggs finally makes the hot tag to Bagwell, who comes in like a house on fire. He kicks Stevie Ray in the face and then drop kicks Booker T to the mat. Bagwell runs Stevie Ray into Booker T, and Stevie is such a big unit that the impact sends Booker flying over the top rope.

Bagwell goes for the pin on Stevie Ray but only gets a two, and Bagwell then gets thrown to the outside. Bischoff continues his vendetta against Nick Patrick by claiming it was a slow count, even though it clearly wasn’t. At this point they’re basically just bullying Patrick, which doesn’t exactly make him a heel.

Back in the ring Riggs hits Stevie Ray with a missile dropkick. Bagwell then climbs to the top rope to execute some kind of move on Stevie Ray, but Booker recovers and pushes Bagwell off the top rope...

Stevie Ray hits a powerslam and covers Bagwell for the win. Riggs tries to jump in literally two seconds after the pin has been counted.

Pointless.

Harlem Heat defeat American Males via pinfall.

The biggest shock post match is that Mean Gene isn’t around to try and stir the pot. We do get another Glacier promo though (the same one as usual) so that’s... something.

We come back from that promo package to the Horsemen theme music.

Flair and Anderson certainly clean up well. Oh, no, that’s Woman and Liz. The other two are way behind them. Heenan says “we are live, and I mean L-I-V-E, live!” - is there another way to spell it? I’m not sure that needed elaboration.

Out come Sting and Flexy Lexy. Time to learn what their surprise is. Neither of them look particularly enthused to be there.

Before the match starts, Sting grabs a mic. He says he wants all of the Horsemen out here, so Benoit and McMichael come out. We go to a break and...

Yeah, of course, it’s Okerlund. I should have known. He’s taken off his jacket though - probably worked up quite a sweat from running to and from the ring so often this evening. He looks like an insurance salesman. Also I’m pretty sure his trosuers are too long, but whatever. He hands the mic to Sting, asking if this is the surprise. Sting confirms it is.

Sting says “we can do what we always do, and beat each other up, or we can recognise that there’s a major problem right here in WCW”. Sting says he and Luger know they can never trust Flair and Anderson, and that’s a fact, but all their blood and sweat has been shed “whenever your career has taken you” right here in WCW. Erm, nope. Completely incorrect. Anyway, Sting says that Flair, Anderson, Luger and Sting “are WCW”. Sting says he is demanding that he and Luger take the two War Games slots beside Flair and Anderson. I assume that is instead of Benoit and Mongo. Not really a tough choice here, is it? Benoit is a great wrestler but losing Mongo isn’t going to hurt much.

Flair has a contemplative look on his face. I imagine he’s wondering why, if Sting admits he can’t trust the Horsemen, teaming with them would be any better than teaming with the nWo. Answers on a postcard.

Arm says he doesn’t like Sting and Luger, and they don’t have the same philosophy. Arn says Luger has “a heck of a body” and calls him “ripped”. OK, sure. Arn says Luger can’t bring “all these jiggling pecs, and all those shoulder muscles to War Games”. Not sure what he means by this. Luger will have to physically be there, so yes, the jiggly pecs and shoulder muscles will indeed be coming along for the ride. Arn says if Luger brings the power and dedication it took to build his body to War Games then that’s a different story. Luger replies that Arn can talk about “jiggling pecs and the body”, but he and Flair know that Luger and Sting have always given 100% when they’ve faced each other.

Arn says he knows what Luger is getting at and turns his attention to Sting. Arn asks if for one match Sting can “take that albatross” from around his neck - always caring about what the kids think, always trying to do the right thing - and discard it, because to win War Games you have to do something “so violent, and so painful, that [your opponent] looks into your eyes and says ‘I quit’”.

Sting is incredulous that Arn would even ask that question. He reiterates that WCW hasn’t been a cakewalk for any of them, but Sting says he has “lived the life of WCW”, whatever that means.

Finally Flair gets on the mic and says “let me get this straight, you and the Package want to team with me and the Enforcer?” - yes, Ric, that’s what this entire promo is about. Keep up. Flair says if Mongo and Benoit will step aside, they’ll agree to teaming up. Gene asks Benoit for his thoughts. Benoit says he’s waited his entire life to become a Horseman, and Ric and Arn have never betrayed him, so he’ll stand behind whatever decision they make. We then go to Mongo, who says he was a part of the best team to play in the NFL, and he knows how to sacrifice. Mongo says he’s willing to sacrifice if Ric and Arn deem it necessary, but that if Sting and Luger don’t hold up their end of the bargain “what the nWo do is going to seem like a day in the park”. Arn finishes the promo by saying “I guess everybody agrees, we have a deal”.

Honestly, this was a really good segment. Arn in particular was superb. Sting and Luger were a bit generic but that’s fine. Overall a very good job.

That said, could this not have all been agreed in private? Sting and Luger’s surprise was actually abandoning the match that had been advertised to the fans to instead have a chat with the Horsemen in the ring. Poor form.

Our latest nWo propaganda piece begins.

Nash says they’re in “Rome, Italy” as he and Hall do some silly poses. They’re actually in Denver, Colorado, but... whatever. Hall says it’s kind of funny to be in the ruins when they’re the hottest new thing happening. He’s still using his fake cuban accent at this point. They alternate between chatting about random shit and saying “I told you so” regarding winning the world title belt at Hog Wild. They mock the Giant and bury the Booty Man. Hall says that Luger reminds him of a movie star. Nash says Luger reminds him of Mr Ed. This is Mr Ed.

He’s a talking horse.

Nash says “what’s up with Sting?” and Hall says “nice hairdo Sting”. He does have a bit of a funky hairstyle going on at this point in time. They call Sting and Luger pathetic. “Don’t call us, we’ll call you” says Hall as the promo ends.

Back in the arena the Giant is coming out with Jimmy Hart.

We don’t get to see Macho Man’s entrance as...

He comes out behind the Giant and waffles him a couple of times with a steel chair. I suppose that’s one way to get an early advantage.

Macho slams the chair into Giant’s head a couple of times for good measure. He isn’t fucking around. The referee eventually takes the chair from Savage, at which point Giant kicks Savage in the stomach and basically no sells the half a dozen or so chair shots to the head that Savage delivered. Giant pushes Savage against the guard railings on the outside and starts hammering his forearm into Savage’s chest.

For some reason the fans behind Macho seem to be enjoying this a lot.

Giant tosses Savage into the ring and the ref starts calling for the bell, assumedly for a disqualification. The match never started though, so that doesn’t make sense. The bell does ring but it’s basically meaningless. Giant puts his hand around Macho’s neck for the chokeslam, but Savage kicks Giant in the stomach. For some reason Giant sells it like he was kicked in the balls, but unless his balls are somewhere near his belly button that is nonsense.

It’s amusing to see Giant waddling around the ring like this, though. Jimmy Hart comes into the ring with a chair, but Savage kicks Hart in the gut and tosses him back outside. Savage grabs the chair and is preparing to hit Giant with it, but out comes Hugh Morrus (humorous, get it?). He gets smacked with a chair for his troubles.

As does Ray Traylor.

Savage hits Giant with the chair again, then smacks the Barbarian and Meng in the head as they come running to the ring. Savage then realises he just hit MENG in the head with a chair and realises he done fucked up, so he does the only smart thing in that situation...

He sprints the fuck out of there. A wise move.

Giant, however, is raging, and so he literally leaps over the top rope in pursuit of Savage.

Paul Wight has ridiculously impressive agility at this point in time.

Giant sprints to the back and we’re back with Bischoff and Heenan.

Bischoff says the match never officially started. He gets word from the Executive Committee that it will be Flair, Anderson, Sting and Luger against the nWo at War Games. It would have been pretty funny if after all that the Executive Committee would have said “yeah, you guys did a pretty sweet promo out there, but nah, we’ll pass”. Bischoff is certain the nWo don’t have a fourth guy to round out their team, although I’m not sure why he’s so confident about this. He said the same shit about them not having a partner for Bash at the Beach and look what happened there. Those who don’t learn from history, Eric.

We end on that note...

#wcw #sting #luger #flair #anderson #wcwnitro #nwo

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opinionatedduck · 6 years ago

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2018 Sample Pack Read-along

Here’s a read along guide to the 2018 Sample Pack playlist found here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6oCU7Q8EOuxP752UbedA5U

I tried to pick a single track which best represents each of the 40 albums I reviewed from 2018, and here I give a little reasoning for each choice with a line or two about the song and album. The playlist flows from genres broadly definable as;

Rap from ‘Come Back Baby’ to ‘Kevin’s Heart’

Experimental from ‘Alarm Song’ to ‘Tunnels In The Air’

Pop from ‘Something for Your M.I.N.D.’ to ‘High Hopes’

and Rock from ‘Tic Tac Toe’ onward.

Although to label some of these is difficult and to put them all into a cohesive playlist was a little tricky.

Come Back Baby by Pusha T

One of my favourite tracks of 2018, from my most highly rated album topping the playlist. Chosen as it's a great display of Push's lyricism and flow coupled with an undoubtedly Kanye West sounding chorus with the signature stripped back beats on Push's verses. All key things present throughout Daytona.

White Label by Nas

To continue with another one of the album's Kanye produced in 2018, I picked out this track from Nasir as although the album has some drastically different sounding tracks, in my opinion lyrics and production on White Label epitomises what the duo were trying to portrait with this record.

Rose In Harlem by Teyana Taylor

The third Kanye produced track in a row, you can see where this is going. Another top notch production but that shouldn't take anything away from Teyana, who's singing and rapping on this track knock you back if it's your first time hearing her and act as a great introduction if you're unfamiliar.

Ghost Town by Kanye West feat. PARTYNEXTDOOR

Kanye explores a lot of themes on this project but a lot of them stem from his experience with mental health issues, and although I won't agree that bipolar disorder is a superpower (or slavery was a choice) he does get some potent points across on this album. Ghost Town is a great example of this as the song explores abandoning all sense of purpose and the freeing yet numb feels that come from that.

Freeee (Ghost Town Pt. 2) by KIDS SEE GHOSTS feat. Ty Dolla $ign

I couldn't help put these two tracks one after another. Not necessarily the best track on the album and my least favourite of the albums thus far, but it's a decent continuation on the main themes of Ghost Town with added Kudi.

Big Shot (with Travis Scott) by Kendrick Lamar

I tried to pick out a track from the eclectic Black Panther album that was not only a good rap track but also had that Wakanda (not a real place) feel that Kendrick tries to cultivate with this project. I think this one ticks both those boxes, and as a standalone track is very worthy of listens.

Shattered Dreams by Earl Sweatshirt

This album is a bit of a minefield with it's bad mixing, which I feel drowns out Earl a lot with those higher raspier sounds ringing through the mix, and very choice spastic beats. This opener, Shattered Dreams, showcases both of these flaws but without being entirely unenjoyable.

DISTRICT by BROCKHAMPTON

Only picked this one as it's a standout on the album. There isn't really one track that brings together the different parts of the album well, which was one of my issues with it, however this does kind of blend aspects of their boy-band and rap collective personas and as a standalone is memorable.

The Ringer by Eminem

This one opens the album and sums up what Em aims to achieve with the album to me. Which is diss everyone who didn't enjoy his last few lacklustre albums, slam said albums too and try to get back on top. Does an okay job at ticking some of those boxes however much of the album doesn't.

SWITCH IT UP by Denzel Curry

Denzel has two very different styles on this album however he smoothly transitions but usually does so track or tracks at a time. Some of the more trap heavy tracks I suspect aren't as easy accessible but this one has a certain edge balancing a little more than others.

Toy by Young Fathers

Amazing track by an outstandingly consistent group. Toy is not only a spectacular tune but it's a perfect track to sum up their distinct sound not just on this album, but across their career thus far. Might just be my favourite track of 2018.

Tints (feat. Kendrick Lamar) by Anderson .Paak

The sun-drenched vibes of Oxnard are most noticeable on first listen of Tints. This track was teased shortly before the album release and the Kendrick feature blends really well with Paak's style. Wouldn't necessarily say it's the best track on the album but the one that most encapsulates the feel.

Kevin's Heart by J. Cole

Maybe not the track to represent J Cole's usual style but this track is in a league of it's own and still showcases J Cole's lyricism and flow. It deals with a recurring theme on the album of having multiple paths down which you could go. Here Cole is torn between trying clean up his act and kick a difficult habit (drugs & cheating) to better serve his partner and their relationship, but his addiction lures him into temptation of not only the euphoric aspects of drug abuse, but with the validation in being desirable and wanted.

Alarm Song by Littlebabyangel

This was my first run in with Littlebabyangel and this opener really sets you up for an experimental and unsettling RnB experience. I couldn't help draw parallels with The Weeknd, but this track and many other venture into a darker more dissonant territory.

Faceshopping by SOPHIE

SOPHIE's music is really out there and I've been following her for a long time now. Faceshopping, like her breakout hit Lemonade, is probably one of those tracks that tests listeners and takes a very specific palette to enjoy. I won't be offended if you have to skip this one.

In The Next Life by Kim Petras

This album really reminds me of Charlie XCX and specifically work she has done with SOPHIE. It's definitely more accessible however and has more elements of synthwave and electro in than those predecessors.

Adam & The Evil* by Clarence Clarity

Clarence Clarity is a real genre shiftier, but there's always something a little hip-hop about his production style. Maybe it's all in the ear of the beholder but across the album it keeps those vibes, mixed with some glitch.

the green by Ben Khan

Slowing things down a little, Ben Khan's very chilled electronic music is infused with his love of playing the guitar which features prominently on this track. Although the project is quite easy listening there's some very subtle technicalities & great little ditties on this album.

Tunnels In The Air by Louis Cole feat. Thundercat

A very unexpected feature from Thundercat blends seamlessly into Louis Cole's funk synth album here. Louis Cole who you might know from his viral video: Bank Account (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dAH4zGd_W1s)

Something For Your M.I.N.D. by Superorganism

The first track of their's I ever heard and one that truly sums up the fun this collective have creating their music and the trippy psychedelic atmosphere they create on the album. Those distinctive bends and slides on the guitar and random 'concrète' soundbites littered throughout are staples of their sound and heavily present throughout this debut.

Don't You Know I'm In a Band by Confidence Man

Clearly another fun project for all those involved. The funny, tongue-in-cheek lyrics here with the utter bopage of their funky pop is a fine example of what to expect on Confident Music for Confident People. I'm confident of that. Get it?

Baby I'm A Queen by Sofi Tukker

Another album favourite makes it into the playlist. This time from Dance Rocker's Sofi Tukker. This one showcases Sofi's vocal ability more than some others and also has a great quiet/loud contrast.

All For You by Years & Years

There's a good chance you've heard most of this album already as it's wall to wall singles. All For You hits somewhere in between their darker sounding Sanctuary, more reminiscent of their first album, and something like If You're Over Me which is super cheesy pop.

She Loves Control by Camila Cabello

Decided not to pick Havana or Never Again as they have been huge singles in the last year. She Loves Control is one of the more fun tracks, as opposed to plethora of ballad-y tracks on here. It's got a bit of dancehall/latin vibe with some underlying Spanish guitar flares.

sex money feelings die by Lykke Li

As described by the album title much of these tracks are sad but sexy. Harnessing elements of pop, rnb and at times hip-hop it features mostly sombre downbeat vocals. I was pleasantly surprised by the album and this is a prime example of what to expect.

Teenage Fantasy by Jorja Smith

I could probably pick almost any track on this album to give as an example of what to expect as it's super consistent and very distinctive. Jorja has a powerful jazzy vocal full of soul and the album has this great RnB backing to amplify it. You could draw comparisons between her sound and Amy Winehouse's and I fully expect this album to launch her into the forefront more than she already is, having already featured on Kendrick's Black Panther project, as well as alongside Drake and Kanye before this debut dropped.

Breathe by Seinabo Sey

I've picked, this time, a track I expect more to showcase Seinabo rather than what this album has to offer. There's a lot of forgettable stuff on here, but this one seems more like something she would have done on her previous release, but does still gel well on this album. Soulful, poppy and a great display of her vocal talent.

Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) by Fall Out Boy

Fall Out Boy lack consistency on this album, I feel like tracks like this one hit a line where they can draw in more fans from a commercially accessible sound without pulling too far from those emo infused pop-punk days. Although this album as a whole does have a lot of misses, not what they once wanted to be known for.

High Hopes by Panic! At The Disco

No surprise to have these two next to each other as both bands are from similar roots looking to do a similar thing, open themselves up to a wider audience and develop their sound into another generation. This track is exactly how to do that, however for me the album as a whole was nowhere near as consistent as this track unfortunately, like other Panic! albums before it.

Tic Tac Toe by Django Django

I probably favoured this track as it's one on Marble Skies that sounds like it would fit as a bonus track on their self-titled debut I fell in love with. Django Django try a few different things on this album but they are best when they sound like this in my opinion.

Everyone Acts Crazy Nowadays by Unknown Mortal Orchestra

A prime example of UMO's lo-fi psychedelic influenced pop-rock. This album sticks in this territory a little more than their previous effort Multi-Love which was a little more varied but is still a great listen.

Warsaw by DMA'S

Australian Britpop isn't something I expected to be talking about in 2018, alas DMA'S here give something that sounds like an instant classic reminiscent of those early Britpop bands I grew up surrounded by.

Golden Trunks by Arctic Monkeys

A big departure from their humble beginnings Arctic Monkeys successfully/unsuccessfully (delete where applicable) attempt to create a desolate deep space John Cooper Clarke themed hotel in which they appear to be the resident David Bowie cover band. This one sounding more like a tribute than some other, does a decent job at evoking that atmosphere they are conjuring.

Daddy's Boy by Electric Six

Electric Six haven't really grown, or grown up much despite accruing at this point 14 albums. It's fun, it's silly, it's formulaic but it works because it's Dick Valentine and crew. You probably already have an opinion of Electric Six, and this track and album won't change that.

Backseat Driver by White Denim

I could've plucked any track from blues rockers White Denim's Performance and it would be one of my favourites on this list but there's something about Backseat Driver that feels classic but refreshingly new simultaneously.

Ace of Aces by The Fearless Flyers

Anyone who know Vulfpeck would feel The Fearless Flyers are very familiar. And that's because they are almost exactly the same thing, save for a few guest musicians and a lack of vocalist. Ace of Aces is the funky starting point of this tight funk rock EP and it never really looses up, this track is a little stronger than some others which include a few covers/variations.

Almost Had to Start a Fight/In and Out of Patience by Parquet Courts

I couldn't pick a favourite from Wide Awake!, so I picked this two-in-one. Their brand of garage rock is seldom heard anywhere else, with uniquely gritty vocals from lead Savage. So much so I don't really have any comparisons to draw. Just listen to it.

Julia (or, 'Holy to the LORD' on Bells of Horses) by mewithoutYou

mewithoutYou are a post-hardcore outfit I grew up with and probably one of the lesser knowns in this list, even by avid music listeners. As a backdrop; they draw a lot of their lyricism from biblical stories and explore themes like what it means to be a Christian and often about how burdening it can be and the difficulties people in these stories go through rather than the more often heard preachy sides. As a band their sound has changed a lot over their career but this album brings their roots and elements heard on later releases and blends them together well, although this track is more reminiscent of their early works.

Stay Ignorant by DON BROCO

DON BROCO seem to be evolving in a way I didn't expect with Technology. Some of their most heavy moments are seen throughout, hence why I picked this track, with more electronic drums and synths being added into the mix without deviating from their original Pop Rock meets Post-Hardcore sound.

Alchemy | Terra Incognita by Poly-Math

Saving the longest for last. Fans of bands like Mars Volta, whom Poly-Math definitely sound like at times on this track/album, will be familiar with these kinds of epic tracks with huge build-ups between their themes which each last 'regular' track lengths, but not all will. Other than Mars Volta, Poly-Math remind me too of Fall of Troy with Prog/Math Rock elements.

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hannahwayward-blog · 7 years ago

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40 Hours in London

Hello all (aka hey Mom, Dad, and Donald)!

As I write this, I’m coming off of a whirlwind day and a half in London and am couple hours into my nine-ish hour flight to Mumbai from Brussels. Recaps and pictures below the break, but in a nutshell, I got to catch up with one of my dearest Duke friends and her adorable English boyfriend, ate some delicious food, and walked about 15 miles -- and, most surprisingly, got my first sunburn of the summer!

Read on for a very long post, which includes details on my first time getting lost (of many this summer, I’m sure), on a very flamboyant production of Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night,” and my key takeaways on solo travel so far.

I landed in London around noon on Wednesday and took a bus into the city. Even after two years of traveling for work, I’m still completely unable to sleep on airplanes, so I was on about hour 24 of being awake. After unloading my extremely heavy (exactly 13 kilos) backpack and showering at my friend Nicole’s flat, I ventured out into the city. My plan was to go to the Victoria and Albert Musuem, and I took a scenic two-ish mile stroll there at Nicole’s recommendation. I walked through Chelsea and another neighborhood and passed at least 10 high-end antique shops and another dozen designer clothing stores, along with plenty of old brownstones that reminded me of my beloved DC.

Inside the Victoria and Albert Museum (which is housed in a beautiful building), I started to walk through the Early British Art exhibit, but only made it to about 1700 before a wave of exhaustion hit. Probably due to a combination of lack of sleep and lack of water, I felt light-headed and a bit nauseous, so I asked for directions to the cafe in the hopes of getting a bottle of water. To get to the cafe, I had to walk out the back of the museum, and there I was greeted by a beautiful, sunny courtyard centered around a wading fountain. The little park was full of families and people young and old, and so once I got my water I went back out and spent about an hour soaking in the sun. I ended up sitting next to three separate groups of Scottish travelers, all of whom had come to see the Pink Floyd exhibit at the musuem. Over the course of the hour, I eavesdropped on endlessly amusing conversations, ranging from discussion of bands (the groups had very differing opinions on Meatloaf) to their motorcycles (they all had them, que sorpresa!)

Unfortunately, London’s uncharacteristic warmth (it was almost 80 degrees Fahrenheit!) was too much for my iPhone, which overheated and required me to go back inside. I took up a spot in the cafe, which ended up being the best decision I made that day -- in my overheated state, I had missed it earlier, but the room was one of the most gorgeous, ornately constructed I’ve ever been in, and a man had just sat down to play the grand piano in the center. For the next hour, I listened to the musician, who was quite talented, while I tried to set up the European SIM card on my phone.

Here’s where the plot thickens. The SIM card had already caused a bit of confusion, because apparently my provider needed to unlock my phone before I could use it, but I couldn’t call them because I couldn’t get the SIM card to work on my phone. I was able to get my mom to give Sprint a ring, and they flipped the switch, but I had to completely erase and reset my phone for everything to work. I backed my phone up to iCloud (which I’d never done before...oops) and popped in the new SIM card, intending to load the backup from the cloud. However, all of this required WiFi, and the V&A (which had remarkably fast free internet access) closed at 5:30 and swept me out, despite the fact that I was not even partway done downloading my apps and data. With the SIM card, I was able to use data to run the apps once they were loaded, but the SIM card wouldn’t work until the download of the backup was complete, which involved downloading the apps. This download required WIFi, and so I suddenly found myself stranded, with no apps yet downloaded onto my phone - including Maps - and no way to download them.

I wandered through the neighborhood looking for a locale that could provide free WiFi, and I must have gone into about eight different restaurants and bars asking if I could buy a drink and if they had public WiFi. The answers were all no - either they couldn’t serve drinks without food, they didn’t have WiFi, or - in one case - their WiFi wasn’t working. I finally gave up and sat down in an Italian bottega to collect myself as I was feeling pretty frazzled, and, after initially telling me no, the manager took pity on me and gave me the internet password while I enjoyed my glass of sauvignon blanc.

Newly equipped with a map, I made my way back to Nicole’s where she and her boyfriend, Ed, shortly joined me. We walked to a DC City Center-esque part of the city, where we had a tasty dinner al freso and caught up. I went back to Nicole’s for the night exhausted (at this point I’d been awake for almost 36 hours!) and slept like a rock.

Thursday dawned way too early -- I’d set my alarm for 7:30, which is the time I usually wake up naturally, forgetting in my sleepy stupor that I was five hours ahead and 7:30 would feel like 2:30 AM. I snoozed until about 10:00 then got up and showered and headed out. I ate a quick breakfast on the go (Coke included, of course) and, at Nicole’s and Ed’s recommendation, took the Tube over to the London Bridges stop.

I had forgotten that this was the site of last week’s terror attack in London. In stepping out of the Underground I was immediately greeted by a huge, roped-off swath of bouquets and cards laid in memory of the victims. Police men and women roamed the area, and I was asked to show the contents of my purse. The pseudo-memorial was a stark contrast to such a beautiful, sunny day, and I spent some time reading the cards and signs extolling the strength of Londoners and their city before heading down to Borough Market.

Borough Market was delightful, and very busy given that this was only its second day open following the attacks. Like the memorial at the Tube station, the area had a heavy security presence, but there was nothing somber about the scene. Green-canopied food stalls crowded together haphazardly in a maze-like arrangement (similar too, although far less cramped than, the bazaars in India). Each sold a different type of food, ranging from bright pastel-colored macarons to fresh shucked oysters. I roamed through for a while, then walked over to the Southwark Cathedral, at which Ed is the organist. I spent an hour or so walking through the cathedral, which is the oldest Gothic cathedral in London and was attended by many noteworthy Londoners, including William Shakespeare. Like many of the older European churches I’ve been to, the floor is made up of a patchwork of grave markers, and monuments and memorials to the dead line the walls. The architecture and centuries of history were well complemented by Ed’s beautiful organ playing; he was accompanying one of the church choirs as they rehearsed. Also notable is that I got to meet the cathedral’s semi-famed feral cat, Dawkins, who greeted me and let me pet her when I arrived.

After touring the cathedral, I went back to the market and, again following my hostess’ recommendation, got a salt beef sandwich on a bagel (bagels over everything). It was delicious, and I sat and ate by a grounded pirate ship -- well, not really a pirate ship, but it looked like one and I actually have no clue what it was -- and listened to an amusing conversation between to 40-something business men next to me about the public speaking class one of them was currently taking.

From there, I decided to wind my way down the Thames to Shakespeare’s Globe. On the way, I passed all that remains of the Westminster Castle. These two walls were uncovered behind some warehouses, and represent the back wall of the great hall, in which the King of Scotland and Joan something had their wedding feast in, like, the 1600s. Only in Europe! I also passed the site of the original Globe theater, which burned down, was forgotten and then rediscovered, and is now an archaeological site beneath a condo building.

At the new Globe theater - Shakespeare’s Globe - I discovered that there was a 2:00 PM show, and he time was 1:15! Unfortunately, I was told that the show was sold out, but was given the option to queue in the Returns line in the event that anyone did not want their ticket. Multiple tickets for real seats (as opposed to the standing room “cheap seats”) were offered to us for 45 GBP and up, but that was too steep for me. However, a couple in front of me already held standing tickets but was waiting to purchase seated tickets if they could. When two seated tickets at what they felt was a reasonable price were offered, they decided to take them, and gave their standing tickets to me and the girl in line behind me - for free! I could not believe my luck.

The interior of the Globe was designed to mimic how it would’ve looked in Shakespeare’s time - round, with different booths for seated customers, and then a large pit where commoners could stand and watch. I joined a few hundred others (apparently the pit can hold up to 750, but it was luckily not that full) to watch the adaptation of Twelfth Night. Performed as a disco-esque musical, but still largely sticking to Shakespeare’s original text, the production was colorful and laugh-out-loud funny. The cast was small - only 10 or 12 actors, all of whom were insanely talented. Our narrator was a large, black man in drag, wearing a gold sequined gown, bright blue eyeshadow, and a humongous afro wig. Also notable were the man playing Count Orsino, who was hilariously and intentionally oversexual, and the small girl playing Malvolio, who really stole the show with her antics and affect.

After the two-and-a-half hour show, I took a short walk up to the Tate Modern, which has been on my bucket list since I missed it during my last visit to London nine years ago. By this time, my dogs were barking, so I bopped up to the observation deck (from which I mistakenly though I saw the Eiffel Tower… it’s a huge tv tower…) and went through one of the exhibits before calling it a day. The exhibit was exactly as weird as I had hoped -- centering on art as performance, it included abstract videos, lots of near-nudity and body modification, and lots of mundane black-and-white photographs that were too boring to be considered art, but somehow here they were

I took the Tube back to Nicole’s and enjoyed a nice hour and a half off my feet while updating my daily budget and snacking on some of my leftover airplane food. Once she and Ed got home, we regrouped and headed to Aviary, a new rooftop restaurant and bar, at which Nicole’s roommate was DJing that evening. The sunset from the rooftop was stunning, and I was able to use a blanket that the bar had on hand once it went down and I was suddenly freezing. Nicole had two free drink coupons, so we each got a grapefruit gin and tonic - v tasty - and ordered a burger and fries to share. Despite the very poor service (think a labyrinth… every question only created more questions, and the answer to most was “no”), the food was really good, and we left full and happy.

Back at Nicole’s, I regrouped and repacked for my early morning flight. I had booked a 4 AM coach to Heathrow and was terrified of oversleeping, but my body refused to stay awake so I got about three hours of zzz’s before getting up, showering, and once again hitting the road. I successfully made the coach (I was one of four passengers) and got through Heathrow without issue and with enough time to grab a parfait and a Coke - my standard airport breakfast - before my flight to Brussels boarded. I had 90 minutes or so in the Brussels airport, which gave me enough time to go all the way to the far end of the terminal for Starbucks. In my efforts to trick my body into India time, I ate a “lunch” sandwich around 9 AM local time, then boarded my flight to Mumbai and here I am!

Mumbai will be tricky for a few reasons. Originally, I was supposed to travel with someone else this summer, and our meet-up was supposed to be tonight in Mumbai. Although the person bailed on me and forced me out of our trip - hence my completely different itinerary than initially planned - we’re both, to my knowledge, still flying into Mumbai tonight, and I would like to avoid a run-in if at all possible. The second sticky situation is that I’ve booked a flight to Kolkata that departs within three hours of my arrival in Mumbai - you may reference the aforementioned situation for my reasoning behind this seemingly masochistic endeavor that will result in me traveling for 22 hours. Because I booked that flight separately, I have to go out through customs, get my backpack from baggage claim, then once again check my bag, go through security, and board my next flight. It took me at least an hour to get through customs when I last flew to India, although I’m hoping to Mumbai airport is more efficient than CCU in Kolkata. So - fingers crossed for me please!

I’m so, so unbelievably excited to be back in Kolkata, my favorite city in the whole wide world. I’m already experiencing my first bit of culture shock, as I”m one of, maybe, five white people on my huge, very full plane to Mumbai: cue the awkward stares. It’s funny, because when I think about my time in India I never think about the staring, but there certainly was plenty of it. I’ve also experienced my first communication barrier, as the sweet middle-aged lady beside me keeps trying to talk to me but we have no common language. I’m definitely nervous - it’s going to be a real adventure being there by myself with a serious Bangla deficit, but I’m up for the challenge.

My thoughts so far before I wrap up this egregiously long post:

1. Traveling by myself is DOPE. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. I don’t feel guilty for, say, only looking at one exhibit at a musuem, or for sitting outside in the sun instead of looking at Medieval Art (which, to clarify, I love - but I have a feeling I’ll be seeing plenty of museums this summer).

2. Jet lag is a sneaky sneaker. Although I’ve managed to sleep and wake up at all of the appropriate times, I have definitely felt “out of it” - lightheaded and achey and definitely not fully myself. BIG ups to Nicole and Ed for putting up with me and making my first two days of this summer amazing and much less scary than I thought they’d be. Which brings me to my third and final point...

3. Four years later, I’m still feeling #foreverDuke. Ed, as a Brit, apparently doesn’t fully understand the culture of “school spirit” that exists in America, and Nicole and I were trying to explain to him that it goes deeper than sports teams (although #DDMF, always) and colors (although we do bleed Duke Blue). How lucky am I to have friends that I met on literal day one of college that still love me enough to invite me to their homes in foreign countries and provide me with itineraries and food and warm beds? Feeling very #blessed by the Duke network and #thankful to M&D for making my dream come true eight years ago.

That’s enough for now -- I’ve way overshot the mark here but I still have four hours to go until I arrive at BOM, so I’m gonna read some GoT. I’ll catch y’all on the flippity flip -- next post will be from the home-away-from-home that I’ve loved the most, the City of Joy itself :)

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