#first of all punk is dead n its all nonsense anyway so

[pissmoon]

The thing that boggles my mind about 'punk is about ideology not music' ass takes is. Ok lets pretend all punk is anarcho-punk and a lot of classic/proto punk bands werent right wing or racist assholes and nationalist skinhead movement didnt come from punk and lets pretend there is one singular Punk Ideology that is universal to all local scenes and micro subgenres worldwide. Sure. But even if we do that then how is that 'ideology' something that just happened to be there independently from music and music was an irrelevant factor to it. And something that can be separated from the music at all. Like the fact that a bunch of teenagers who listened to crass got really into anarchism probably had nothing to do with the fact that they listened to crass and rudimentary peni and flux of pink indians and their lyrics, right?

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Hark the Angels sing; It’s MORE Random Mary Grayson Headcanons!!.....I have apparently lost control of myself but hey these are fun XD 

Some of these are ones that focus on what can possibly fit into proper DCU canon while some are from AUs I have in mind (prominently, ‘What if the Flying Graysons all survived yet their son still became a Robin and eventually Nightwing?’ or ‘What if Mary was resurrected as a Talon for the Court of Owls yet was her personality more or less got brought back to normal?’)  

 I appreciate any to all feedback from replies to likes, but ESPECIALLY Reblogs  and more so, Reblogs with additional headcanons 

Either way, enjoy this nonsense 

- (Flying Graysons Alive AU)  Mary is perhaps one of the very few people alongside Batman, Red Arrow, and Lian Harper who can actually eat Green Arrow’s infamous chili recipe. Not even her husband can do it, with the latter having to chug two whole gallons of milk to soothe the burns. 

- One of her favorite hobbies whenever not practicing on trapeze is reciting and acting out Shakespeare plays. Her favorites being Romeo & Juliet, King Lear, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and Macbeth. Most of the time, John and her often love playing the final scene in Romeo and Juliet as the titular characters respectfully. Apparently Mary has a hidden natural skill of playing dead so well it looks convincing to anyone who doesn’t know better. 

- (Talon!Mary AU) Upon regaining her memories and most of her personality back, one of the first things Mary asks is naturally of who was it that raised her son while she was gone, especially since this person was apparently the one that taught Dick into honing his acrobatic skills into crime fighting. When learning it was Gotham based billionaire Bruce Wayne, Mary made a briefest of stops to Wayne Manor to confront him about it. On the one hand, as a mother, she was all too commonly concerned and a bit baffled about this acquaintance of her husband and her being the one to do this for Dick without their permission. On the other, had it not been for Bruce as Alfred rightfully points out, Dick’s fate could’ve been far worse given the care system Gotham had him or even the Court of Owls double crossing their deal with her and making Dick a Talon anyways. Also, Bruce explained indeed it was ultimately Dick’s decision to swear an oath to crime fighting and his choice to avenge what happened to John and her, finding the thugs responsible for it. She acknowledges this and rather than have any animosity, Mary thanks Bruce for doing what he can and helping her son becoming the young man he is nowadays, a leader of the Titans, defender of Bludhaven and generally probably her greatest wish, a good person int he end. She declines Bruce’s offer to stay in either Gotham or Bludhaven but does say if a Crisis get too much for him and the Batfamily to handle on their own, she’ll more than willing to lend a hand. Such irony, an owl being a friend with a bat. 

- Being a Catholic, Mary often prays the Rosary prayer every Sunday at night before bed and especially during Holy Week. Dick carries on this tradition when moving into Wayne Manor and even nowadays in either his Bludhaven apartment or his room in Titans Tower since that’s what his Mother taught him. 

- Mary firmly understands the general fear of clowns some people tend to get. She firmly understands of the numerous unfortunate implications that come with the bright make up, goofy antics and general oddness clowns exhibit when being approached by casual folks. But thankfully, she definitely knows plenty of good clowns that are among her closest friends at Haly’s Circus and can say for certain they are the norms, not this Joker and his partner Harley Quinn everyone keeps paying attention to instead. Mary generally dislikes Joker and Harley and for good darn reasons.  

- She designed almost all of the Flying Graysons uniforms for each and every one of their tours and shows. They usually depend on the types of performances they perform for the night on their tour maps, helpfully categorized by John with colored pins on said maps. If the show’s a blue pin (safest of the stunts, safety nets set up), Mary and her family are wearing an all blue outfit with disco-esque collars and bird motifs (New 52 Nightwing origin ones); on red pins (larger crowds,bolder stunts yet safety nets still set) an green sleeveless bodysuit with a giant yellow stylized G on the torso (All Star Batman and Robin and Nightwing [2018-] Annual #2); and finally for Black Pins (Largest of crowds, most bold of stunts, no safety nets, example being Gotham) a green scaly leotard with a red tunic, green pixie boots and a pre show yellow cape. Said tunics having a black and yellow letter on the right side meaning their first names for example ‘M’ for Mary on hers and an ‘R’ for Richard, or as she calls it, ‘Robin’.  

- During tours in Japan, Mary always insists to bring with them before they leave an entire week’s worth of the dish called Katsudon, beef or pork cutlet on top of rice along with other ingredients. It’s basically a buffet dinner in one bowl.  

- In terms of music, Mary likes rock n roll in almost all of its subgenres. What she listens too depends on her mood at the time of the day. For instance when cleaning their trailer on bright sunny day, The Beatles are likely being blasted on her record speakers. Conversely on rainy nights with the trailer to herself and in the mood for something a bit heavier, Black Sabbath and Metallica are what’s pumping out in her headphones, performing air guitar like crazy without noticing John or Dick walking in to see that, much to their amusement. Dick actually bought those same songs his mother plays on his phones when moving to Wayne Manor. Bruce actually liked a lot of the stuff Dick played, in particular Black Sabbath......except for any songs by the Ramones, the Misfits or any hardcore punk rock. Bruce just wasn’t a fan. 

- (Flying Graysons Alive AU) Mary and John, after the events of the Circus and settling into a decent apartment in Gotham with Mr Wayne as their landlord, take jobs at a nearby fitness center. In particular, they are trapeze teachers for anyone willing to give the ropes a try. No matter the students they get, both Graysons are given the opportunity to impart their skills and their amazing acrobatic prowess to a new generation beyond their son. It probably helps that since they’re at said fitness center until it’s closing hours, they arrive home at almost the same time their son barely comes back from his Robin patrols. 

- (Flying Graysons Alive AU) Mary ADORES her grandchildren Mar’i and Jake. She is almost THE go-to babysitter for them whenever her son and his wife Kory are away on a very intense Titans and/or Bludhaven mission. Though it must be said, watching over two Tamaranean-Human hybrids proves no easy task since either one or both of the two rascals can accidentally do some damage to the apartment with their starbolts or enhanced strength when not carefully. Perhaps the trickiest period was when Mar’i was barely coming out of her toddler phase but still had their stubborn temper that can ignite said starbolts. Thankfully as Mar’i got older and her baby brother Jake proved on being far more relaxed and chill than his older sister at his age, watching over the two of them became far easier. Whenever, the three interact in small talk, they all speak primarily in lovari Romani Chib. Sometimes when reading them Tamaranean bedtime stories, the kids help with Mary’s Tamaranean since she’s always curious to learn new languages. More often than not, whenever getting a call for Dick to help watch Mar’i and Jake,the first thing she does almost immediately is check their mustard supply given what her grandchildren drink. Overall, Mar’i and Jake are a joy when they visit Mary and John and she can’t be any happier than that. 

[delicrieux]

the one for me

PART 1: THE ONE FOR YOU

PAIRING: bill weasley x reader

summary: bill and fleur’s wedding is attacked. little angst. mostly fluff. 

also, requested by @whitewolf-dianaprince, @ghostwriter050402, and anons. 

a/n : the requests are quite long so i put them at the end of the fic. i was nearly boycotted so im fixing my act. sorta. poor fleur tbh. but i love my mans bill weasley and i only make him suffer bcs my heart couldnt take giving him up afterwards! IT’S SAD AT THE START BUT HAPPY AT THE END! A COUPLE OF THINGS TO NOTE: this takes place after ‘the one for you’, jacob and mc have a curse-breaking firm, mc is bills one true love :( THANK YOU SO MUCH TO @blackphoenixfire FOR COMING THRUUU WITH THE MOODBOARD!!!!!!!!!!!! <3 PLEASE CHECK EM OUT! <3 

feedback is always appreciated xoxo

MASTERLIST. ko-fi (i chug coffee as i write these fics, and another cup would make me happy <3)

“Stay here tonight. If you go now, they might catch you.”

At Bill words you snap your head to him, your whole body trembling as you grasp you wand tightly. The unfamiliar building seeps with warmth as the wind howls mercilessly outside. The room, small, yet cosy, one of the many safe houses the Order has, is illuminated by oil lamps that cast dim shadows of you and he. The air is stuffy. You take in a deep breath to calm your beating heart, yet to no avail. Slowly, your peer away from the defeated form of Bill Weasley, he sitting on a plush couch that is lightly chewed by moths and other, as you shakily turn to the window. A clear starry night lies behind your ghastly reflection.

“(Name).” Bill calls you, his voice hollow and strange.

Subconsciously, your mind racing with terrible thoughts, your hands raise and you twirl your wand in a graceful, poise motion, “Protego Totalum….” The words fall from your lips in a terrified whisper, “Salvio Hexia…”

“I think we’re safe here.” He tries to get your attention again, yet you do not budge, “(Name)…Please….” His face falls into his hands as a low, breathy sigh leaves his lips, “Come here so I could make sure you are actually alive.” He adds quietly, more to himself than you.

His words shake you to the very core and inspired with energy you drop whatever protection charm you were going to cast next and promptly walk to his side, a short stride, really, and fall by the couch as you grab him by the wrists and pull. You meet face to face with misty blue eyes, clouded by shock and hurt. A strained smile pulls on the corners of your lips, “I’m here.” You reassure him, yet you don’t sound so sure yourself, “I’m alive.” Your cold hand moves to caress his hair, “The rest are alive, too. They are, really. I would never lie to you, would I?” Your voice strains with doubt, “What matters is that we made it out, yeah? We’ll contact the rest as soon as—“ As soon as what? You aren’t certain yourself. “…Shitty wedding, ey?”

He manages you wheeze out a laugh, “Tell me about it.” Though the last drop of light-heartedness melts away into fear, “I…really thought I lost you.”

“Nonsense, you couldn’t lose me even if I died.”  You jest, your voice still a nervous whisper, “I’d haunt you for the rest of my afterlife. Nothing in this world could tear me away from you, Bill.”

He smiles faintly at the genuine, yet morbid, idea.

The events of the first cheerful night replay in waves, in striking precision. No detail is left out of your mind, and soon you feel too exhausted to move. You sit by the couch, on the dusty wooden floorboards, your back leaning onto its plush side. Bill had joined you on the floor, his body a welcoming furnace of heat as his arm is draped over your shoulder. The two of you sit in solemn silence, watching the night outside the window, deep and scary.

The wedding was attacked. The Ministry has fallen. Your friends might be dead. And worst of all, there is nothing you can do, no way to contact them and make sure they are still intact. You must wait. Sit and wait and feel utterly useless. It is still too soon to regroup, as danger might be luring just around the corner. You try to even out your breathing as you recall the chilling message, the screams, the blasts of deadly magic that made your hairs stand on end. You had nearly received a few curses; a few less murderous ones had hit you, and their remnants engrave your already bruised body and chip away at your dress. They do not hurt. Granted, you may simply be too numb to feel any pain at all. They are but a dull ache somewhere, you can’t even pin point where. All you can think about is your friends and worry sick. Each time you drift away into your own mind, Bill yanks you back as he pulls you closer to his bodice.

His lips brush against your forehead, warm and tingling against your skin, as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Do you remember…when we were kids?” He asks you, quietly.

“It would certainly be disturbing if I didn’t.” You reply with a sad smile, “I’m hardly that old.”

“And do you…remember the Yule Ball?”

You hum, “I remember having to reject quite a few offers because I was dead set on taking Ben.” You frown softly, “He was so….frightened of everything. But I knew he wanted to go. He was really happy when I asked him. We jammed to punk rock all night…I have never seen him smiling so brightly.”

“I asked you to the dance, too.”

“You were joking.”

“No, (Name), I wasn’t.” The sudden seriousness in his tone made you pull away, much to his dismay. Your eyes meet and you gulp - intense and determinant, no sign of defeat, “I wasn’t joking when I said I wanted you to be my date. I wasn’t joking when I asked you to be my girlfriend in Egypt. I wasn’t joking about what I said back in the Burrow—“

“Stop.” You plead, eyes closed and quivering, “Just stop, please…” You shake your head, “I was…I was so scared and hurt to come back, I already lost you to someone else and when the Death Eaters showed up I—“ You inhale a sharp breath, your eyes prying open, tears picking at their corners, “I thought I was going to lose you again, this time for good.”

His hands land on your cheeks, pulling you just a tad closer, “(Name), I need to tell you something.”

“Don’t.”

“I must.”

“You can’t.”

He gives you a shaky smile, “(Name) (Lastname)” He address you, his voice soft as velvet, “my partner in crime, colleague, and best friend.” His eyes find yours and lock them, “…I love you.”

It feels like lightning going through your chest, a whole world of new senses and truths opening after so many years. He says it genuine, meaning every world, every syllable, and every possible connotation. He gazes at you expectantly, your expression of shock and helplessness – even your tears have stopped in their tracks, hot on your skin – as you regard him with silent wonder and admiration. You shut your eyes, welcoming darkness, as you lean onto his touch.

“I love you too, Bill.” You confess, “…And I’m sorry it took me so long to realise.”

He grins, “Better late than never, I suppose.” His thumbs wipe away a few stray tears, “You know… people usually tend to be happy on such occasions.”

You hit him on the shoulder, “You’re married, you git!”

“Then I won’t be.” He states, as serious as before, “I won’t be, for you.”

“No, you will be making a huge mistake—“

“The only huge mistake I made was not having the courage to tell you sooner.” He cuts you off, “And look at where that got us…” His eyes briefly roam around the silent room, “Maybe it is fate.” His attention returns to you once more, his stern expression softening as he caresses your cheek, “I always had this feeling that…You are the one for me. And that sooner or later…We’ll be together.”

“Wishful thinking.” You blur, but can’t help the small smile.

“I say it paid off.” He grins sleepily, briefly glancing at your lips, “I say it paid off, indeed.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you lean in, and so those he. The wind continues to howl. The last thing you see before you close your eyes is soft yellow light playing on his freckled skin. You meet him halfway and he kisses you softly.

For a moment, one single moment, the rest of the world melts away in overwhelming sensations. Worries fade into the night. There are only two people in the world, you and him. Just you and him.

 BONUS

The house is quiet, only the sound of sleepy mumbles and kitchen appliances by the breakfast table echo. Your footsteps are diluted by the carpet under your feet, as curiously and with a hum, you pick up todays mail, dropped just a moment prior. Sunshine streams from the outside, and grasping the velvety letters you briefly skim each one: work, taxes, work, complaint, another complaint, and… Blinking owlishly, you eye the familiar envelope, one you had gotten many years ago yourself. With your heart jumping to your throat, you tear the seal off with shaky fingers and open the letter.

You place a hand over your mouth as not to scream. The envelopes helplessly fall from your gasp and settle on the floor.

DEAR JACOB WEASLEY,

WE ARE PLEASED TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU HAVE A PLACE AT HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY. PLEASE FIND ENCLOSSED A LIST OF ALL NECESSARY BOOKS AND EQUIPMENT.

TERM BEGINS ON 1 SEPTEMBER. WE AWAIT YOUR OWL BY NO LATER THAN 31 JULY.

YOURS, SINCERELY,

MINEVRA MCGONAGALL

HEADMISTRESS

You re-read the letter one last time and scream anyway, “OH MY—MERLIN! BILL! BILL COME QUICK!” You yell frantically, looking up to find Teddy Lupin curiously poking his head out from the kitchen. Your husband, still in his sleeping robes, stumbles downstairs, frightened to death with his wand ready. Seeing you teary and grinning brightly, he promptly takes a relived sigh.

“Bloody hell, I thought someone died.”

“No, you idiot,” You shove him the letter, “Our son just got his letter!” You squeal excited, “From Hogwarts! Our baby is going top Hogwarts!”

requests:   Ahh okay I’m in love with your writing and was wondering if I could request Bill x mc with the prompt “Stay here tonight” /  can you make a story from hogwarts mystery after the one you made mc attending fleur and bill's wedding, but the attack happened and later saw mc got hurt bad from it with some side charlie moments (also as i recall in the book ginny and molly never initially like fleur) 😍😍😍😍😍😍 pleaaase i love me some good angst and i really love your writting style~ /  your last fic just KILLED me. can I please request a fluffy mc/bill fic so my boi finally gets the true love he deserves? you’re such a good writer and I really enjoy your fics! can’t wait to read more :-) /  since you are determined to break our hearts with Bill/MC angst here I am, asking you to write Bill/MC fluff, where those two get their shit together, confess their feelings, get married and live happy together ( cause I now consider canon that Bill married Fleur only because he couldn't marry MC-sorry fleur i like you but MC and Bill are soulmates and nothing will ever change my mind )

forever tags: @scarletraine- @brahwhytho- @smilesfromabove- @pharaohkiller - @victoriaelvendorkweasley-@onehellofdevilotaku- @eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy- @phillipas00- @xxcrowfeatherxx- @cupcakestyleshood- @invisibilityrocks- @nephalem67 - @chwechwechwe - @porpentyna - @lesbianheartbreaker - @banjosanjo - @madswheelers - @sombodymaybeawatson - @disneyfanatic77 - @superanonymousreader - @aliypop​ - @slytherinyour-chambers - @onehellofdevilotaku - @victoriaelvendorkweasley - @pharaohkiller - @smilesfromabove - @brahwhytho - @scarletraine - @rosiersgirl  -  @teca-tita - @anapiscator - @ardentmuse - @illiniana - @sugerquill - @oliviaplayschoices - @sarasapen

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Tony is arrested post-Ultron and is held in the Raft. Bucky gets captured too, and held in the cell next to Tony's. They support each other through Tony's "interrogations" and Bucky's impending execution, and slowly fall in love. So when Steve arrives in the middle of the night to rescue Bucky, there's no way he's leaving Tony behind.

Combined with:

1014 Hello, you guys are the best, I LOVE this blog ❤ would it be possible to get some more protective Winter Soldier ?Like maybe Tony gets hurt (up to you as for how/why) and the WS comes right outand just turns into a big mother hen, fusses over him and everything ? (Btwit's obviously totally alright if this prompt doesn't get picked, I'll be happyto read anything you are willing to write and share ❤)

A/N warning for torture, starvation, water deprivation, seriousamounts of dub-con, suicidal ideation, past hydra trash party references,pre-slash, medical aftermath including a foley tube (catheter), not ClintBarton friendly, notparticularly Steve Rogers friendly, kissing, frottage, bonding over shitty experiences

Thanks to @mto-art for their artwork. A few weeks back, MTOapproached me with interest in doing a collab project. I tossed one of theabove prompts at them, and I got an art piece back in a few days. The fic waswritten about half before I got the art and half after. So, the art does notmatch up exactly with the fic (for instance, Tony’s got his hair, and neitherof them are in the prison outfits) but the sense of the fic; Bucky protectivelyover an unconscious Tony, trying to keep him from drowning and defending him…that carried through.  

This fic is four chapters long, approx 10,000 words, and has some cliffhangers.

Chapter One: Stark Men are Iron

Stark men are iron.

Tony Stark sat on the stone floor in his cell, wearing nothing butan orange prison jumpsuit. His hands were on the back of his neck. Absently heran one over his head. They’d shaved his head when he arrived. The stubble wasgrowing back in, but in another few days, they’d do it again. He supposed itwasn’t that bad; having no hair was probably better than having greasy, long,tangled hair that people could grab hold of.

He’d lost track of how long he’d been there, locked in this hole.

Oubliette. A place to throw people to forget about them,

Ross had figured it out. Wasn’t hard to do, really.

Blamed him for what Rogers had done; the break out at the Raft.Made Tony a scapegoat, if nothing else. And no one was going to come for Tony,were they?

Hell, it was possible that no one on the outside -- no one legit-- even knew he was gone. There were rumors that someone had finally crackedthe Life Model Decoy problem. A well programmed LMD could distract and confusefor a while.

There was no way to keep track of time; they fed him irregularly.Infrequently enough so that he was slowly watching himself starve to death.He’d probably lost at least ten kilos, just based on the fit of the jumpsuitthey made him wear. And what food they did give him was pretty unsavoury, threeof ten, would not order again.

He was dragged off to a shower every half dozen sleep cycles orso. Well past when he’d started to stink; he didn’t even notice his own bodyodor much anymore. He’d learned to take his jumpsuit off the moment he heardthe Cleaners coming. Being marched naked through the halls and to theshower-facility was unpleasant, but less so than the alternative. If he was stilldressed, they’d just throw him in the water anyway and it was fucking cold inhis cell. Sitting around in wet clothes was really damned uncomfortable.

He saw no one else, except the Cleaners, and a few times when They-- whoever they were, really -- had questions. There were other prisoners; Tonyheard them screaming sometimes. Occasionally, they heard him screaming. Butnone of them were close enough to communicate with.

Tony had been tortured before.

It didn’t get easier with practice.

(Mobile readers: more below the break)

There were questions. Sometimes they made sense. Sometimes he evenanswered them. It didn’t matter; he didn’t know any of the things they wantedto know. He had suspicions, but by the time Ross had him arrested --black-bagged really, he’d been unpersoned with brutal efficiency -- Rogers hadprobably already moved.

Tony found himself hoping so. That Rogers had gotten away; thatall the rogue Avengers were somewhere safe. He’d known, damnit, that Rosscouldn’t be trusted, that what Ross was really after was control of poweredpersons. Tony knew he wasn’t immune from that, but he’d thought, he’d hoped, byplaying the game, to buy them time.

His time was up.

Tony was going to die in that cell.

He tried to view the matter objectively; he’d always known deathwas the only outcome. It was a numbers game. Eventually, the house always won.Red, black, even, odds.

But Stark men were iron.

They were chipping away at his defenses, bit by bit. He wasn’timmune; even if his passcode was ridiculously long, they could try everycombination. Eventually, he’d break.

Stark men were iron. There was a deep coreinside Tony that knew nothing about surrender. It only knew survival.

Eventually he would break. Or die. But he saw days, weeks, monthsof pain and fear and suffering before that happened. He knew he’d long fordeath and be denied before they were done with him. That pathetic, mortal fleshthat would keep him tied here where he could do no good anymore, he could onlyhurt people he cared about. People he’d sworn to protect.

Perhaps, in the end, they’d turn him into a killing machine, likeBarnes before him. Like Romanov. Like countless others.

He’d lost track of the days; there was no time in this place. Heate, he slept when he could. They came and they hurt him. That was all therewas.

Tony wasn’t expecting it when the door opened.

It had only been two or three sleeps since his last “shower.” Theywouldn’t be in a hurry for that, despite it being its own kind of torture. Coldwater, harsh chemicals, the humiliation. Sometimes the guards would shock stickhim, just for fun.

He blinked. Even with his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, thecell was dark. The guards were mere shadows against the corridor lights.

Someone was shoved into his cell; they stumbled forward a fewsteps, hit the wall. Yelled, turned, but the door was already sliding closed.

The sound when they hit the locked door wasn’t a fist striking,not flesh against metal, but metal against metal.

It was loud, and Tony cringed away from it. Sparks flew, sendinglittle flashes of light, like hostile fireflies. The door didn’t budge or bendor break. Given what Tony was starting to suspect, that was unexpected.

The shadow stopped, after a while, panting for breath. Thenturned, took a few steps toward Tony. Yeah. One of these days, Tony wasactually going to be wrong about something, and it was going to be a good day.

James Barnes, aka the Winter Soldier, stepped closer. Close enoughfor Tony to see the glint of recognition in his eyes.

“I’m supposed to kill you.”

Yep.

Six weeks earlier

Coming out of cryo was nothing like waking up.

Pretty much the first thing he always did was puked. And not likea quick, simple, ate-too-much vomit, but retched until there was nothing leftin his stomach, and continued to heave until his throat was raw from stomachacid. Until he was spitting blood and until his lungs ached and his diaphragmwas strained.

Hibernation sickness would probably kill a man who wasn’tenhanced.

The horrified look on Steve’s face told Bucky that the Wakandadoctors hadn’t bothered (or hadn’t known) to explain. Or hadn’t done so inenough detail that Steve had believed them. Bucky didn’t care. What he did knowwas at least Steve was there. He patted Bucky’s back lightly, or kept one handon the back of his neck, or murmured nonsense that was supposed to bereassuring.

By the time that was over, the tingled had started. Pins andneedles didn’t even begin to cover it. More like dirks and daggers. Everymuscle in his body seized up, cramped, twisted, ached. Bucky’d beenthrough torture that wasn’t as imaginative and painful.

Finally, though, it was over.

“They figure it out?” That was the only reason Bucky had said theyshould wake him up.

“Stark did,” Steve admitted. “So he claims. Princess Shuri lookedover his process. She okayed it.”

Because of course Steve needed someone else’s okay, these days.Not that Bucky blamed him; Stark had good reason to want Bucky dead, andgetting him out of Wakanda under the guise of scrubbing the brainwashing wouldbe the only thing that’d do it. And Stark and Steve… didn’t trust each otheranymore.

Turned out not to matter; Stark’s quinjet -- along with Stark, andall his supposed brain-fixing equipment -- went missing. The whole fuckingthing just vanished enroute.

There were rumors that Ross -- or someone above Ross, eitherlegally or otherwise -- had been hoarding a team of enhanced persons. Eitherbrainwashed, or controlled, or had loved ones in hostage situations. Thepossibility was raised by the rogues that Tony had been taken in revenge forSteve’s mass jailbreak. A scapegoat. Maybe to lure Steve into making a secondattempt.

Woulda been a great plan, except Ross (theoretically, if it wasRoss. It might not have been. But in any case, the only people who knew howbadly the Avengers had broken themselves were in Wakanda and probably nottalking to Ross.) didn’t realize that Steve…

“You ain’t even gonna look for him?”

“Buck, I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Steve protested. “Noone knows where he went down -- if that’s what happened. Or who would havetaken him.”

“So find out, punk,” Bucky protested. “You got a whole goddamn teamhere of spies and superheroes, here. Hell, you gotta fuckin’ witchqueen.”

“I am not going to ask the team to help find the man who lockedthem up in the first place,” Steve said.

It didn’t take much for Bucky to draw conclusions: Steve was stillangry with Tony because of the Accords, because of the fight in Siberia, andall that boiled down to Tony had -- with every good reason in the world, andeven Bucky wouldn’t deny that -- tried to kill Bucky. And Steve wouldn’tforgive him for that. Which meant, like every other Bad Thing that had happenedover the last seventy years that Bucky had even been tangentially involved in,this was his fault.

He didn’t argue with Steve. There was no point and it was justgoing to be exhausting.

He found Romanov, however. Told her what he was planning. She’dback his play, and she did. She knew about red in the ledger.

Some things you just had to do, no matter the cost.

The cost was simple; he fell right into the trap meant for Steve.

Tony didn’t bother to try to run. Where would he even go? The cellwas only ten by six, and a good two feet of that was taken up by hisridiculously tiny toilet and the seldom-functioning sink-tap. (All his drinkingwater came from there, and if he was lucky, they turned it on every ten hoursand he had to be awake, and have his jug underneath it when it started or he’dlose his opportunity and be damned thirsty by the time it turned on again. Thathad happened a few times. When his urine got thick and orange, he started tobecome worried that they were going to let him die of thirst. No such luck withthat, although it would have been excruciating, it would also have been quick.)

There wasn’t even a point to try to fight. In his suit, maybe, hewas a match for Barnes. When he wasn’t weak from the bad food, erratic water,and frequent torture. When he’d not been forced into solitude for -- fourweeks? Two months? He didn’t know -- and no room to stretch or exercise. Cold,all the time. He couldn’t fight.

Honestly, at this point, if Barnes wanted to strangle him todeath, Tony wasn’t sure he wouldn’t just say thank you.

“Well, get on with it, then,” Tony said. He didn’t move; hadn’teven bothered to look at Barnes since realizing who it was.

“I don’t do that, anymore,” Barnes said. He all but flopped downon the cell floor next to Tony, close enough to touch if they both reached, andonly not further away because there wasn’t that much room in the cell.

“Don’t kill people? There are some GSG9 guys whose families sayotherwise.” Might as well get this over with. Tony was good, very good, atpoking hornets’ nests, and while Barnes wasn’t the craziest fucker Tony hadever had to deal with, he shouldn’t be too hard to roust to some sort ofmayhem. The question would be, could Tony possibly direct it?

“I--”

“Look, Red October, what the fuck do you think happens to a normalhuman, even one wearing combat armor, when they get hit in the face with afucking cinder block?” Actually, that guy hadn’t died, and the doctors had beenimpressed with that, but he needed some massive corrective surgery and whilehe’d gotten his neck broken, there’d been no spinal damage. Tony wasn’t abovelying.

And he was just a little bit petty.

Okay, maybe a lot petty.

Like anyone was keeping score.

(Except him.)

So he wasn’t exactly surprised when Barnes shifted, and thenpounced.

Tony kept telling himself that he wanted to die, to go ahead andget it over with, not to struggle--

And then realized two things.

He couldn’t struggle; Barnes was strong, and Tony was usedto fighting in the suit, which made the man’s strength even worse. Barnes hadhis wrists pinned in mere moments.

The second was that Barnes wasn’t hurting him. He had Tony pinned,helpless, legs spread and Barnes nestled in between them.

Oh… oh, god, no.

“What are you doing?” Tony’s voice went up severalregisters. “Get off me!”

Tony had been through a lot of shitty, terrible, painfulsituations. Humiliated, tortured, betrayed, defeated… and he’d probably had sexwith a lot of people who didn’t have his best interests in mind, but--

“Get off me!” Panic flared. He bucked up, using the minimalleverage he had--

Tony couldn’t speak suddenly, because Barnes had his metal handover Tony’s mouth, and then shoved two of those shiny fingers inside. Tonycontinued to struggle, shaking his head from side to side and pushing at thosefingers with his tongue, trying to dislodge them.

“It’s all right,” Barnes said, low in his ear. In Italian,which Tony’s brain stuttered over a few times, trying to translate and then hefell into it. “I’m not going to hurt you, but they need to think I will.I don’t know how many cameras they have in here. I’m not going to do anythingwithout your consent.”

Tony went limp for a moment, confused. Barnes pulled those fingersout, slick with Tony’s spit and wiped them gently over Tony’s cheek, leaving awet trail. It was… weirdly seductive, kind of gross, and wholly unsettling. “Hateto break it to you, Gottlieb, but you’re already doing this without my consent.”

“Go ahead and struggle, it’s okay, you can’t hurt me,”Barnes said, and that was just insulting. And also, terrifying, because Barneswas right. Tony could struggle, a little, but Barnes was like a rock. Theservos in the metal arm made noises, clicks and whirrs, as Barnes flexed, keepingTony locked in position.

And oh god, Tony was going to be sick, because he literally waslike a rock. Barnes was sporting an erection against Tony’s thigh. Tonyredoubled his efforts, writhing and twisting, but all that seemed to do wasmake Barnes toss his head back and roll his body against Tony’s.

“No,” Tony gritted between clenched teeth. “Don’t you--”

Barnes interrupted that with a kiss, mouth moving over Tony’s,muffling the sound, swallowing down Tony’s protests. Barnes continued to thrustagainst Tony’s leg, and Jesus, if it hadn’t been so weird, and Barnes didn’thate him so much, Tony might have melted into the kiss. It’d been so long sinceanyone had touched him. Barnes licked his way into Tony’s mouth, and when Tonywent to bite down on that invading tongue, the metal thumb ended up in hismouth at the hinge, keeping his teeth apart.

“Listen to me,” Barnes whispered, mouthing down the side ofTony’s neck. “They want me to hurt you, they think we’ll save them thetrouble. Leave us somewhere and they can spin any story they want. If they --if they think I’m going to rape you, they’ll let it happen. So we need them tothink that’s what’s happening. So we can stay together. I am here to rescueyou.”

Barnes bit at Tony’s collarbone, and that was one of his weakspots. Despite his -- inspite of? Tony didn’t even know -- his revulsion, Tonyarched up into that with a stuttered, shocked groan.

Tony couldn’t decide what it was; the sensual sounds of Barnesspeaking Italian in Tony’s ear, the fact that nothing Barnes was doing actuallyhurt, and did, in fact, feel good to Tony’s touch starved and aching body, orthat Tony was really just that fucked up. But he was starting to get hard andthat was… that was… shit, shit, shit.

“Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?” Tony snarked.

Barnes didn���t even blink, but there was something about the wayhis mouth came down on Tony’s throat that implied a smile. So, Barnes was notas culturally deprived as Steve had been, maybe? “I have a plan. Two plans, actually,but you’re going to have to play along or neither of them is going to work.”

“And I’m just supposed to trust you?” Tony was incredulous.But he must, at least a little, because he was playing along, speakingItalian. He couldn’t seem to stop struggling. He was panting for breath; hismuscles burned from the futility of trying to get Barnes off of him.

Barnes pressed his jaw against Tony’s and what he said was fuckingsub-audible and how the hell did he do that? His voice travelled rightthrough Tony’s skull, but couldn’t have possibly been heard by anyone else.“Come with me, if you want to live.” It was the best, and most fucked up,impersonation of the goddamn Terminator that Tony had ever heard. And he didn’teven hear it with his ears, it vibrated through his jaw and teeth and directlyinto the tiny, delicate cochlear nerve.

Barnes’ metal hand was roaming all over Tony’s body, and there…fuck, what-- “Goddamnit, no,” Tony burst out as the zipper of his prisoncoveralls went down. And when had Barnes stripped himself, because that wasskin-on-skin and Tony was still pinned, helpless and--

“Go ahead and bite me,” Barnes told him. “It’s okay,it’ll heal, but we need the blood.”

Tony’s eyes widened, terrified and disgusted. “You cannot useblood as lube,” he protested, horrified.

Barnes ducked his chin at that and Tony was revolted to see he wastrying to hide a smile. “I’m not… oh, for fuck’s sake, just hurt me. Theyneed to think we’re fighting.”

“I am fighting,” Tony protested. Tony braced himself andbit down hard, because oh, god, if he really was going to get fucked by theWinter Soldier, he didn’t want to do it dry, but oh, Jesus, this was so…

Blood, coppery and brilliant, flooded his mouth, and Tony spat,and spat again; his stomach roiling and he was struggling, harder than he’dever fought before, God, no, he did not want--

“Sorry,” Barnes said, and then rocked against Tony’s thigha few more times, grunted and--

“Sorry about-- oh, god, gross,” Tony hissed as Barnes shothis load over Tony’s stomach and leg.

[jonathanbogart]

Magnitizdat: Soviet Aligned Pop and New Wave

Mix seven of seven. The previous mixes can be found here. The YouTube playlist for this mix can be found here. Below this paragraph is the tracklisting for this mix; below that are my notes on it. It’s been a gas.

Bravo, “Koshki”

Klaus Mitffoch, “Jezu jak się cieszę”

Spenót, “Szamba”

Tango, “Na šikmé ploše”

Forum, “Davayte sozvonimsya”

Urszula, “Wielki odlot”

Pankow, “Rock ‘n’ Roll im Stadtpark”

Florian din Transilvania, “Mă simt minunat”

Trick, “Elektronnoto kuche”

Dzeltenie Pastnieki, “Sliekutēva vaļasprieks”

Marika Gombitová, “Prekážky dní”

Grazhdanskaya Oborona, “Zoopark”

Gigi, “Divat a fontos”

Maanam, “Lucciola”

Silly, “Die Gräfin”

Kino, “Posledniy geroy”

Sfinx, “An după an”

Első Emelet, “Amerika”

Aya RL, “Skóra”

OK Band, “Žižkovská zeď”

Nastya, “Tatsu”

Magnitizdat: soviet aligned pop and new wave

In a just world, just about every nation represented here would get its own mix: Poland, Hungary, Czechia, and Russia, to name just the largest pop scenes, were (and are) too capacious to be summed up in the paltry handful of songs I’ve allotted them. But I’m already teetering on the furthest outside edge of my understanding. My grasp of Europe is comparable to Saul Steinberg’s legendary view from 9th Avenue: the further East of the Pyrenees I get the more featureless and notional everything is.

To make things more complicated, although the seven nations (at the time; now 13½) represented in this mix were formally Soviet-aligned in terms of foreign policy and general economic structure, they all pursued different approaches to cultural policy, and those policies changed radically over the decades, and even from year to year. At the beginning of the 1980s, the Soviet Union was perhaps the most officially censorious in terms of rejecting Western influence, whereas places like Poland, Hungary, East Germany, and Czechoslovakia were relatively open to current trends in Western European culture, especially following the Prague Spring of 1968. Then too, one of the necessary preconditions for good pop is money (which doesn’t necessarily mean pure capitalism: state-funded arts education and broadcast media, e.g., made British pop the envy of the world), and many of the Eastern Bloc nations, whether or not they were eager to support international-style pop, were among the poorest in Europe.

Still, life finds a way. Electronic music in particular was taken up enthusiastically by many Warsaw Pact composers in the 1970s, both as a technical challenge and as a path forward into a Communist musical future that owed nothing to the dead traditions of the West. Young musicians in Warsaw, Riga, and Leningrad got hold of contraband records or reel-to-reel tapes (called magnitizdat in Russian, in parallel with printed samizdat, according to Wikipedia) of new and innovative forms of rock and pop, imitated them, and added their own perspectives. And Eastern European nations held their own national and international versions of Eurovision, and broadcast local singers in a variety of traditions, both as light entertainment and as a way to reinforce cultural nationalism.

So although Eastern Bloc pop in the 1980s was often cheaper and perhaps chintzier (or at least dedicated to different notions of cool) than its Western counterparts, there was still plenty of it; but it was also unevenly distributed. My division below is less about population size or global importance (either today or historically) than about what would fit into a single mix. There are six Soviet songs (five Russian, one Latvian), four Polish, three Hungarian, two East German, two Czech, one Slovak, two Romanian, and one Bulgarian. Linguistically, it’s my most diverse mix by far, with six Slavic languages, one Germanic, one Uralic, and one Romance language represented (the runner-up, Melodier, had five Germanic languages and one Uralic). Google Translate is my everything.

All of them are great songs, and most of them are great records as well (we’ll get to the exception), although I doubt anyone actually living in Eastern Europe, either at the time or presently, would group together these precise performers in this way: some were defiantly underground, some boringly mainstream, and most somewhere in the middle.

Most of these mixes have taken 1981 and 1987 as the boundary years: while this one ends with a longish 1987 track as per tradition, the rest of the songs are mostly clustered between 1983 and 1985. Due to protectionist policies (both Eastern and Western), inefficiencies of resource allocation, and the slow-to-arrive effects of glasnost, the new wave (if that’s even a useful term to describe a shift towards 1980s-era modernity in the diverse Communist scenes) rolled over Eastern Europe several years after it had blanketed the West. My early investigations all centered on 1984, and further research still marks that as a pivotal year.

Anyway, here’s what I’ve fallen in love with. I hope you dig it too.

1. Bravo Koshki no label | Moscow, 1985

WIth all apologies to Long Island’s Stray Cats, Southern California’s Blasters, England’s Shakin’ Stevens, West Germany’s Ace Cats, and Barcelona’s Loquillo, the greatest rockabilly revival act of the 1980s was the Russian Браво (Bravo). Formed in 1983 by guitarist Evgeny Havtan, with singer Zhanna Aguzarova signing on later that year, they played 1950s rock and roll with a side order of 1960s ska, with lyrics simple and catchy enough to be universal but subversive enough to get them into trouble. “Кошки” (Cats) could be a children’s song: “Cats don’t look like people, cats are cats,” is the opening lyric. But when Aguzarova adds that cats don’t talk nonsense or care about bits of paper, that’s questionable, and when she launches into some of the most thrilling scatting ever heard in rock & roll it’s downright revolutionary. After the band had self-released their first recordings on magnetic tape, she was arrested for using forged identity papers in 1984, and didn’t release a proper record until 1987. She left the band in 1989 for a solo career, and is beloved throughout Russia as a sort of Lady Gaga avant la lettre, while Bravo under Havtan and a succession of singers has continued to plow their rockabilly furrow to slightly diminished success.

2. Klaus Mitffoch Jezu jak się cieszę Tonpress | Wrocław, 1983

One of the most important Polish new wave bands, Klaus Mitffoch combined punk energy, two-tone nimbleness, and post-punk solemnity in a compulsively listenable and sometimes danceable mix. Their first single, Jezu jak się cieszę (Jesus, I’m Happy; the name is an interjection rather than an address) is a mordant portrait of callow youth that doesn’t think past the next payday, fight, or fuck, and of the system that keeps them that way: the shouty chorus translates as “Get up and be busy and own things/I can’t really do it/I don’t really want to.” A Polish “I prefer not to,” it’s a critique of the capitalist contract which worked just as well as a critique of Communist expectations: the lack of real difference between the oppressiveness of East and West will be an ongoing theme.

3. Spenót Szamba Start | Budapest, 1983

Although I’ve been attaching the tag “new wave” to these mixes, one of the signature sounds of the US new wave has been entirely unrepresented: the beachy kitsch of the B-52’s. Until now. Spenót (Spinach) was a Budapest arts collective founded in the early 80s which only released one single on the rock imprint of the Hungarian state label: “Szamba” (Samba) b/w “Hová tűntek a szőke nőket” (Where Did the Blondes Go). Casio, bass, guitar, and disaffected vocals from Kriszta Berzsenyi (now a costumer in the Hungarian film industry) make for a minimal-funk tribute to proletarian hero Popeye, as the refrain “Everything’s perfectly fine, I’ve got spinach flowing in my veins” makes clear. A late entrance from a mariachi trumpet only adds to the delightful kitsch effect, and makes me grin ear to ear every time I listen.

4. Tango Na šikmé ploše Supraphon | Prague, 1984

Although the island-borrowed rhythms and frontman Miroslav Imrich’s vocal qualities in this early song are rather heavily reminiscent of the Police, in terms of cultural positioning Tango were rather closer to Madness: a ska-pop band that could be goofy or heartfelt depending on the song, and burrowed deep into Czech working-class cultural identity, in part thanks to their inventive and prolific videos. Their first single, “Na šikmé ploše” (On the Slope) is a heartfelt and rather poetic love song on skis. Even after Tango’s dissolution, Imrich has been a consistently popular singer and songwriter in the years since, his work, both solo and in collaboration, ranging from ballads to techno.

5. Forum Davayte sozvonimsya no label | Moscow, 1984

A Russian synthpop band who owed nothing to such English decadents as Human League or Depeche Mode, Форум was fronted by singer Viktor Saltykov, who had previously sung with rock band Manufactura, and anchored by synth wizard Alexander Morozov. The video for Давайте созвонимся (Let’s Call Each Other), from an early television appearance, has become a minor internet classic of kitschy Soviet aesthetics, but a google of the lyrics reveals as thoughtful and sensitive a song about love under modern technological conditions as anything Gary Numan or Scritti Politti ever recorded. Forum’s debut album wouldn’t see official release until 1987, by which time a lot of Russian pop had caught up to them.

6. Urszula Wielki odlot Polton | Lublin, 1984

Perhaps Poland’s most prominent female rock star for the last forty years, Urszula Kasprzak has recorded in a variety of styles, from hard rock to dance-pop; but her 1984 album Malinowy król (Raspberry King), recorded with members of prog band Budka Suflera, is a minor masterpiece of cool, reflective synthpop. “Wielki odlot” (The Great Departure) was the leadoff track and the album’s lowest-charting single, but I love its stately swell and the apocalyptic  lyrics (or maybe it’s just about emigration, which is another form of apocalypse). I’m looking forward into digging around into the rest of Urszula’s discography.

7. Pankow Rock ’n’ Roll im Stadtpark AMIGA | Berlin, 1983

East Germany probably had the most thoroughly Westernized and extensive pop scene in the whole Eastern Bloc — only natural, given its proximity and exposure to West German media. But child star Nina Hagen had to leave East Berlin to help found the Neue Deutsche Welle: East Germany preferred shaggy 70s rock even as icy synths overran the NATO countries. Pankow, formed in the eponymous suburb of East Berlin, was a case in point: definitely a new wave band, they still clearly adored old-fashioned boogie rock. “Rock ’n’ Roll im Stadtpark” (Rock ’n’ Roll in the City Park) is an anthem of Communist rock (even the shouted refrains are collectivized): dancing to rock & roll in the park is better than bourgeois disco or high-priced cinema, because it’s free. Of the people, by the people, for the people, oh yeah.

8. Florian din Transilvania Mă simt minunat Electrecord | Bucharest, 1986

The hermetic and impoverished Romanian scene, tightly controlled by Nicolae Ceaușescu’s Maoist-modeled authoritarian government, was the slowest of the European Communist nations to catch up to the present of the 1980s: officially supported music tended to be folkloric, balladic, and at its most up-to-date, hippie-era hard rock. Mircea Florian was one of the grand exceptions: beginning as a mid-60s folk-rocker in the mold of Dylan and Cohen, and maintaining a parallel interest in electronics and modern composers like Stockhausen and Nono, he moved through many progressive, electric, and Eastern-influenced musical phases over the next twenty years, often butting heads with the regime. His last great record, 1986’s Tainicul vîrtej (The Secret Swirl), released just before his defection to West Germany, was a summation of his folk- and art-rock past and his new-wave present. This opening track “I Feel Great,” is a statement of gleeful modernism, the lyrics an expression of bucolic alienation while the synthesizers and drum machines wander off on prog-rock solos before being recalled to robot rhythms.

9. Trick Elektronnoto kuche Balkanton | Sofia, 1985

If the Romanian rock scene was impoverished, its Bulgarian counterpart was even more so. Trick was a vocal group — two women, one man — put together out of music school in frank imitation of Western acts like ABBA, Boney M, or even (if the record sleeves are any indication) Tony Orlando and Dawn. But this cut from their first LP, “Electronic Dog,” was produced by the young, ambitious Kristian Boyadzhiev to a hypermodern sheen: if the girls are still essentially singing disco harmonies, at least the music has heard of ZTT. After release, the song was suppressed by Bulgarian state media on the grounds that the goofy lyrics and synthesized dog barks were making a mockery of Bulgarian electronics. But today, it sounds like it might predict Eastern European trance.

10. Dzeltenie Pastnieki Sliekutēva vaļasprieks no label | Riga, 1984

The underground new-wave scene in Latvia was apparently the most active and prolific in the Soviet Union outside Mother Russia: the Baltic seaport of Riga, as one of the USSR’s few access points to global culture, saw bands like Pērkons, NSRD, and Dzeltenie Pastnieki making waves even as their magnetic-tape recordings were suppressed by the Soviet authorities and not released for decades. I chose this song by Dzeltenie Pastnieki (Yellow Postmen) not because it’s exceptionally better than the rest of their material, which is all pretty great, but because its combination of electronic loops and sensitive guitar sounded surprisingly to me like the Postal Service. The pitch-shifted vocals, sure, sound more like “The Laughing Gnome,” but that’s no deal-breaker.

11. Marika Gombitová Prekážky dní Opus | Bratislava, 1984

Probably the biggest Slovak pop star of the era, Marika Gombitová had been well-known in the eastern half of Czechoslovakia since 1977, when she sang leads for the popular rock band Modus. This synthpop gem (Daily Obstacles) from her fifth album, the unselfconsciously-titled No. 5 (it was her first stab at singing to synthesizers), uses sporting metaphors to talk about desires that slip forever out of reach, the evocativeness of which imagery would not have been lost on a contemporary television-watching audience: Gombitová had been confined to a wheelchair, paralyzed from the shoulders down, following a car crash in 1981. Her marvelous voice, thin but strong, reminds me of Cyndi Lauper’s: and the gorgeous production, with its slippery bass and a haunting electronic solo in the middle eight, makes this maybe my favorite song in this mix.

12. Grazhdanskaya Oborona Zoopark no label | Omsk, 1985

Here’s that not-great record, meaning only that it’s extremely lo-fi, so much so that the tape hiss and room tone plays practically an aesthetic role, turning a simple rock ballad into a fuzz-pop gem that could sit side-by-side with contemporary work by the Beat Happening or Hüsker Dü. Гражданская Оборона (Civil Defense) was the psych-rock project of Siberian-born Yegor Letov; after their first magnetic tape, containing “зоопарк,” was recorded, band members were institutionalized, their subversive attitudes having been dutifully reported to the authorities by the guitarist's mother. That subversiveness isn’t hard to detect in this song, in which Letov dreams of finding other crazy people (like him) with whom he can plot an escape from the zoo of contemporary life.

13. Gigi Divat a fontos Start | Budapest, 1985

Nobody on the Internet seems to know anything about Gigi, not even whether the name is of a performer or a group. The writing credit on the Hungarian compilation LP where “Divat a fontos” (Fashion Matters) appeared is to “Gigi Együttes,” which latter word just means Ensemble. But a bunch of people on the Internet, some in Hungarian, some in English, and some in Polish, have warmly praised this song, an aerobic synthpop jam that combines the best of Kim Wilde and Olivia Newton-John. It’s apparently all that this Gigi (the thirty-first entity of that name on Discogs) ever recorded, but it’s enough.

14. Maanam Lucciola Polskie Nagrania Muza | Kraków, 1984

The post-punk band Maanam, on the other hand, are legends of Polish rock, with dozens of records and a rabid fanbase: one of the most successful and important Eastern European bands of the decade. Lead singer Kora (Olga Jackowska)’s vocal style owed little to Anglophone precedent, digging deep into Slavic and Polish modernism, even when, as here, the most frequent word in the song is the Italian woman’s name of the title. In “Lucciola,” Kora dispassionately portrays a man searching for the titular woman in the night wind, while the band’s brawny Gang of Four funk motorvates right along regardless.

15. Silly Die Gräfin AMIGA | Berlin, 1982

Probably the most interesting East German rock band of the 1980s, Silly was centered around the vocal performances of Tamara Danz, who could be kabarett-outrageous in one song and luminously synthpop-tender in the next. “Die Gräfin” (lit. The Countess, but also slang for any stuck-up woman) is a funk-rock vehicle for her gift for satirical vocal caricature, as she mocks the decayed German aristocracy from a victorious proletarian point of view. Not that Danz was a strict ideologue: in 1989, she joined other East German musicians in demanding greater freedom, in protests that helped lead to the collapse of the Communist consensus. She died in 1996 of breast cancer, far too young.

16. Kino Posledniy geroy AnTrop | Leningrad, 1984

The only Russian band represented on this mix whose music was officially released within the era under consideration, Кино (Cinema) were no less skeptical about the Soviet system than their peers, just luckier in that they hooked up with the independent Leningrad-based AnTrop label, which gave them cover for sarcastic, despairing songs like Последний герой (Last of the Heroes), in which the familiar 80s theme of nuclear annihilation gets another airing, and East and West turn out to be not so different after all.

17. Sfinx An după an Electrecord | Bucharest, 1984

When Mircea Florian was one of the leading lights of Romanian prog in the 1970s, one of his few competitors in the field was the band Sfinx (Sphinx), formed in the mid-60s to play Western-style pop/rock. In the following decade, they grew more ambitious, taking cues from Yes, King Crimson, and Genesis, the last of whom, in their 80s incarnation, is a reference point here. “An după an” means Year After Year, and even though it was only their second LP (they were constantly running afoul of the Romanian censors), it was occasion for a wistful look back over the last twenty years.

18. Első Emelet ‎Amerika Start | Budapest, 1983

Perhaps the most popular Hungarian rock band of the early 80s, Első Emelet (First Floor) was formed from the remnants of several less fortunate acts which imploded around 1982. With a bright, energetic sound, witty lyrics by songwriter Péter Geszti, and an irreverent comic sensibility to their visual presentation, they were just the kind of band that would have been a lock to appear on MTV if they weren’t from a Communist nation. In fact, they did anyway — one of the television screens in Dire Straits’ “Money for Nothing” is playing an Első Emelet video. Their first single, “Amerika” is a terrific satire of that consumerist paradise, rendered with all the plastic pomp the subject deserve.

19. Aya RL Skóra Tonpress | Warsaw, 1984

One of the greatest long-running European indie-rock bands, Aya RL (for Red Love) formed when Russian keyboardist Igor Czerniawski and Polish singer Paweł Kukiz met in Warsaw. “Skóra” (Skin), their biggest hit and most well-loved song (I dare you to get that wordless chorus out of your head), is somewhat unrepresentative of their more psychedelic and intellectual work — but it’s a great song, a portrait of love despite the turmoil and violence of the heavily politicized street culture of Warsaw in the 1980s.

20. OK Band Žižkovská zeď Supraphon | Prague, 1982

If you didn’t know anything about Eastern Bloc music in the 1980s and relied only on what the Western media of the time showed you, you might expect it all to sound like this: icy, measured, foreboding. In fact, “Žižkovská zeď” (The Zizkov Wall) is just about the slowest and coldest song in Czech synthpop act OK Band’s repertoire: most of it is much cheerier and romantic. But I really dig its coldwave vibes and the sound of Marcela Březinová’s voice singing about the awful feeling of seeing your name written in graffiti by an unknown hand.

21. Nastya Tatsu no label | Sverdlovsk, 1987

Thanks no doubt to my own global position — in the (allegedly) democratic West — I’ve been focused throughout this mix on how the music of Communist Europe responds to or relates to or recalls its Western counterparts. But with “Tatsu,” the gaze shifts not West, but East. Nastya, a band formed on the border of Europe and Asia, and named after its frontwoman, singer, composer and poet Anastasia Polova, was fascinated with Japanese folklore, history, and mythology. The Tatsu of the title is both a Japanese child left for dead in World War II (that’s where the bits in English come in), and a mythological dragon-god protecting islands in the Pacific. It’s an amazing song, the centerpiece of an amazing album, and the fact that it only circulated as a bootleg tape for a decade before being officially issued in the mid-90s is the strongest indictment of late-Soviet cultural policy I know. I say that as a Communist.

That’s it, that’s all the mixes. For now, anyway. Thanks for reading and listening and sharing and liking. I’ve got other projects to keep me busy; I’ll try to mention them here from time to time.

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS - CHRISTMAS SPECIAL: 9th December 2018

Geez, today was a busy week. Before we talk about the top 10, however, let’s just get the massive elephants out of the way.

CHRISTMAS NONSENSE

It’s the festive season and one way people celebrate the holidays is by listening to its music – usually, Christmas music, of course, and since I review all returning entries that I haven’t talked about yet, sigh... There are seven of these so I’m going to go as quick as possible, but just bear with me throughout this section because I really don’t like Christmas music all that much. Let’s just get it over with.

#39 – “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” – Brenda Lee

This is “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree”, a song written by Johnny Marks and released in 1958 in the US, being left on the shelf for four years until its release in the UK in 1962. In 1963, it peaked at number-six and has since re-entered due to digital downloads, with one of its highest recent peaks being number-seven last year. It’s pretty inoffensive rockabilly, with some nice very-50s guitar licks coming in throughout, and some decently-sounding production, but really it’s not anything of internet until that sax solo. That solo is freaking gorgeous, and I’m glad it’s there, because otherwise this would just kind of fall to the wayside. Not sure I like Lee’s voice on here, it comes off as a bit nasal, but it’s not a big deal. It’s alright, I guess. I expected to say RIP here since she was popular such a long time ago, but no, she’s still alive and kicking. Good for her.

#36 – “Merry Christmas Everyone” – Shakin’ Stevens

Now this is where it all breaks down into dread. This song by Shakin’ Stevens is Godawful, mostly because of how painfully manufactured the whole thing is. It’s overproduced Christmas music that is just jolly feelings and nothing else. Those horns that kick in after the first verse are pretty cool, but Stevens doesn’t sound great here – or at least I can’t tell because he’s drowned in reverb – and the choir might as well be a computer for all I care. Also, the sax solo was cool the first time in Brenda Lee’s track, but here it’s just trite, especially when you add those shooby-doo-wops over it. This track was initially the Christmas number-one for 1985, and I understand why, but does it really have to come back every year since 2007 – for over 60 weeks in total? Oh, it peaked last year at #10 too. Let’s hope this upwards trend doesn’t continue.

#35 – “Santa Tell Me” – Ariana Grande

Now for a more recent one from arguably the biggest popstar in the world right now, with her 2014 song that actually failed to chart in the Top 40 initially until last year at #29, and that’s its peak so far... whilst I’ve never been a fan of the cleaner, refined Ariana Grande records, I do have a soft spot for this one. That melody is infectious and the sleigh bells complement the synth bass in a way I didn’t think they would, and it’s not like the drums are all that overpowering here, although a trap skitter would have worked better here (yeah, I know, not something I say often). It’s surprisingly romantic and sensual for a song with Santa in the title, actually, although it’s about men who have wronged her. Anyway, Ariana kills it but what else do you expect from a song from her at this point? It’s a good track, although the final chorus with the choir is really cluttered, just saying, it’s messy.

#30 – “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” – Michael Bublé

This here is Michael Bublé’s cover of traditional Christmas classic written in 1951 by Meredith Wilson, and it’s not great. Obviously, I mean, it’s Michael Bublé, ever since “Haven’t Met You Yet” he’s been utterly useless seasonal radio fodder. Bublé never really sounds bad but he never sounds interesting, and this production isn’t doing him any favours. It’s sickly sweet strings and brass for the most part, with some piano added in there for good measure, after what seems to be way too long of just airy synth, string and guitar noise – that’s really out of place, guys, why is this on the single edit? Ah, what else to say? Oh, right, nothing.

#26 – “Do They Know it’s Christmas?” – Band Aid

Oh, I know it’s Christmas time, alright, this song won’t let me forget it. I could ramble on about how preachy and awful this charity single is but other people have done it better. I just have four short things to say – 1.) this was the most popular song in the UK of the entire 80s. Yikes. 2.) This is the worst thing the Boomtown Rats have had any involvement in. They’re such a great band, hell so are Culture Club. How do Boy George, the Boomtown Rats, Ultravox, Phil Collins, U2, Kool & the Gang, Sting and Duran Duran make something this awful? They’re all absolutely fantastic musicians in their own right. 3.) That synth that kicks in after a while is pretty ugly, not gonna lie, and is unfitting for the condescending Christmas charity single angle they’re going for here – mostly because that’s what it really is. 4.) We’ve remade and reissued and re-entered this song too many times. Let it go, Britain. Please. We’re begging you. It’s for a good cause, and I appreciate how much money it’s raised, but it’s also garbage.

#18 – “Fairytale of New York” – The Pogues featuring Kirsty MacColl

They use the word because it was the 80s, it’s not meant to mean homosexual and it’s not used in that context – albeit still a negative one – and the climate of Ireland, especially the Celtic punk scene, wasn’t exactly going to care about dropping that slur in their Christmas single. It should still be censored, though, I mean, black rappers saying the N-word is morally okay, but we still mute those, right? Anyway, this is one of the best songs I’ve ever heard. It starts with a beautifully elegant piano melody, with the lead singer of the Pogues, Shane MacGowan, mumbling his way through his verse, but instead of people like Future or Lil Baby, there’s still a lot of sincerity there, I feel, and a lot of soul is put into expressing the lyrics here in the raspy tone that I absolutely love. I’m not going to talk much about the story here mostly because I’m not going to go in-depth, but it’s about a typical love story going awry at some point due to a betrayal. Oh, and the moment the Celtic traditional instruments come in is one of the best moments in music – ever. Kirsty MacColl sounds so lovely here, and the harmonisations in the chorus are fantastic. That flute solo is gorgeous, and the juxtaposition between “you’re a bum, you’re a punk, you’re an old s--- on junk, lying there almost dead as a drip on that bed” and the cheerful instrumental is just hilarious to me, especially since right after “Happy Christmas your a---, I thank God it’s our last” is immediately followed by the bombastic drunk sing-a-long chorus. The third verse is also such a great back-and-forth, man, I can’t even bring to words how much I admire and adore this piece of music. This is the best song I think I’ve ever talked about on this show, by far, but it could have easily not been close if “2000 Miles” by the Pretenders returned this week. We’ll just hope for next week, I guess. Rest in peace to Kirsty MacColl, gone much too young.

#14 – “Last Christmas” – WHAM!

Finally, we have our last Christmas song for this week’s holiday REVIEWING THE CHARTS special. It’s an anti-climactic end, to be honest, because I’m pretty indifferent to this song. It’s pretty 80s, to be fair, so I’ve got to like some of the cheesy falsetto vocalisations from the late George Michael at the start, as well as those repetitive synths that keep themselves from sounding awful by having those sleigh bells and pretty damn nice keys covering them. That chorus is iconic, but the rest of the lyrics are just forgettable. Honestly, it’s a good background song and it’s a well-written, catchy pop track with Michael putting in some good vocals throughout, but, it’s nothing special. Nothing but respect to George Michael, though, rest in peace, he’s a pop legend over here.

Christmas Conclusion

The best Christmas song on the charts right now is easily “Fairytale of New York” by the Pogues and Kirsty MacColl, but an Honourable Mention goes to Mariah Carey for “All I Want for Christmas is You”. Yup, that’s still here, we’ll get to that in a second. Worst of the Week goes to Band Aid for “Do They Know it’s Christmas?” You should be ashamed, Bob. Dishonourable Mention is going to Shakin’ Stevens for “Merry Christmas Everyone”. Other Christmas songs you should check out are “Christmas in Harlem” by Kanye West, Teyana Taylor and CyHi tha Prynce featuring Musiq Soulchild (heck, check out the longer version if you wish), “2000 Miles” by the Pretenders, “Stop the Cavalry” by Jona Lewie, “Christmas Lights” by Coldplay, “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” by Tyler, the Creator and “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” by DMX. Yes, those last two actually exist. Now, this Christmas section has taken longer and is longer to read than about half of my normal episodes, so I think we should get straight into...

Top 10

Well, this all feels a bit more familiar. “thank u, next” by Ariana Grande is still at the top of the charts five weeks in, and it doesn’t really seem to have much competition.

Ava Max, however, is making a surprise run for the top, up four spots to number-two, with “Sweet but Psycho”. I wouldn’t exactly be complaining if this hit the top either.

“Without Me” by Halsey is up a spot to number-three.

We have a new entry from the most recent X Factor winner, Dalton Harris, with a cover of Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s Christmas classic “The Power of Love”, featuring James Arthur. I guess awful Christmas songs aren’t going away for that long, huh? Obviously this is Dalton’s first top 10, and Arthur’s fifth.

“Thursday” by Jess Glynne is down two spaces to number-three.

Up a whopping 28 spaces this week to number-six is, you guessed it, Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You”. This isn’t its first top 10 turn, and it’s not its peak, but still impressive to reach here nonetheless.

This means “Woman Like Me” by Little Mix featuring Nicki Minaj is down five spaces to number-seven.

“Rewrite the Stars” by James Arthur and Anne-Marie has actually gained nine spaces, surprisingly, and to my dismay, to number-eight, becoming Arthur’s sixth and Anne-Marie’s fifth.

Oh, and if you wanted even worse news, up an even larger 29 spaces is “KIKA” by 6ix9ine featuring Tory Lanez, becoming both their first (and hopefully for 6ix9ine, only) top 10 hit at number-nine. I like the song, but I don’t like Tekashi, to say the least.

We have another new entry at #10 this week with “Nothing Breaks Like a Heart” by Mark Ronson featuring Miley Cyrus. This is Ronson’s sixth top 10 hit and Cyrus’ fourth (yeah, I thought she had more too).

Now, instead of separating what happened on the charts into Dropouts, Climbers, Returning Entries, Fallers and such, let’s separate into two sections: “What Survived” and “What Suffered”.

What Survived

What survived means essentially everything that still managed to chart this week, and I’m actually surprised by how much power some of these songs have. Going in reverse order, I have no idea how “Arms Around You” by XXXTENTACION, Lil Pump, Swae Lee and Maluma managed to cling on despite a 17-space fall to #40. “Promises” by Calvin Harris and Sam Smith is down 16 to #38, “Baby Shark” by Pinkfong is down four to #37, “Empty Space” by James Arthur is down 10 to #34 (why did James Arthur of all people have the strength to stay during the avalanche?), “Hold My Girl” by George Ezra is down eight to #33, “Shallow” by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper is down 27 to #32 (considering both streaming cuts and Christmas bloodbath), “Leave a Light On” by Tom Walker has returned to #31 for some reason, “when the party’s over” by Billie Eilish is down seven to #28 (again, surprised this one’s still here), “Taki Taki” by DJ Snake, Ozuna, Cardi B and Selena Gomez is down eight to #27, “1999” by Charli XCX and Troye Sivan is down 11 to #24, “Polaroid” by James Blue, Liam Payne and Lennon Stella is down 11 to #23, “Let You Love Me” by Rita Ora is down eight to #22, “Better” by Khalid is down five to #20, “Sunflower” by Post Malone and Swae Lee is down seven to #16, as is “ZEZE” by Kodak Black featuring Travis Scott and Offset right next to it at #15, “Funky Friday” by Dave and Fredo is down five to #12, and everything else that’s currently charting is either simply not notable (a drop or climb less than four spaces), in the top 10, a new arrival, a Christmas re-entry or in the top 10. Jesus. Now, what’s gone?

What Suffered

This is a little nicer name for what’s dropped out in the absolute onslaught of Christmas music and new arrivals (all returning and new entries this week total to 12 songs that weren’t on the chart before). This week was an absolute bloodbath, and these are the murder victims. Former #1 “Shotgun” by George Ezra is out from #30, “Advice” by Cadet and Deno Driz is out from #28, “AirForce” by Digdat is out from the #20 debut, “Mo Bamba” by Sheck Wes is out prematurely from #27, “This is Me” by Keala Settle and the Greatest Showman Ensemble is out again from #36, another former #1 “Eastside” by benny blanco, Halsey and Khalid is out from #31, “Happier” by Marshmello and Bastille is out from #32, “I Found You” by benny blanco and Calvin Harris is out from #29, “MIA” by Bad Bunny featuring Drake is out from #35, “Always Remember Us this Way” by Lady Gaga is out from #39, “Goodbye” by Jason Derulo and David Guetta featuring Nicki Minaj and Willy William is out from #40 and finally, “Back and Forth” by MK, Jonas Blue and Becky Hill is out from #37. I’d say it’s time to move onto the New Arrivals – but before, I’d like to say that the BBC redesigned their UK Top 40 page, and it looks pretty cool. Anyways:

NEW ARRIVALS

#29 – “MAMA” – 6ix9ine featuring Kanye West and Nicki Minaj

Of course, DUMMY BOY only had a stunted tracking week last week, so we have the effects of the album this week. This is 6ix9ine’s third top 40 hit in the UK, Nicki Minaj’s thirty-seventh (yeah, I know, it’s insane), and Ye’s even crazier forty-third, and to be honest, it’s inoffensive, which is something I’d never thought I’d say about a 6ix9ine song, but, hey, it is what it is. Murda Beatz’s production is pretty cool for what it is, and I do like the eerie synth loop. 6ix9ine’s delivery is lazy and boring – and I still think we shouldn’t let rappers say they kick women out of doors – but he doesn’t last long so when Kanye comes in with that “man, oh my God” refrain it gets so much better. I’m so used to Kanye West’s pop-culture rambling, social media criticism/obsession, somehow relating to women nonsense he brings to nearly every single verse he does recently that I’m used to it, it’s just something I’ve heard before delivered relatively comedically. Nicki’s refrain and verse actually has some work put into it, unlike the dudes’ bars, so yeah, I appreciate that, although her delivery and cadence is exhaustingly blunt and straightforward, to the point where it’s just kind of tiring. There’s some decent wordplay there, I guess. This is okay enough, and pretty much top-tier Tekashi to be honest. “KANGA” also featuring Ye is even better, though.

#17 – “Going Bad” – Meek Mill featuring Drake

Meek Mill and Drake working together is something I expected to happen anyway. Meek and Drake have seemingly squashed their beef and have relaxed after the “Back to Back” situation and their popular 2015/2016 beef that revealed a lot about Drake, specifically his ghostwriting from Quentin Miller, and eventually stressed Meek’s relationship with Nicki enough for them to break up as a result. Oh, and you better believe they mention “back to back” because of course they do, it’s the only funny wordplay they can conjure up, apparently. This is Meek Mill’s first ever top 40 hit in the UK (congratulations) and in stark contrast, Drake’s forty-fifth (yes, even more than Kanye), and his thirteenth just this year (probably and hopefully his last), and it’s mediocre. I didn’t know what to expect because I’ve never really cared enough about Meek to listen to him, but an out-of-tune piano absolutely demolished by some bass while Drake spouts off with stuff like “I got more slaps than the Beatles” isn’t exactly the best first impression. Is there a chorus here, or not? I can’t tell, everything’s just kind of the same until the ad-lib break that’s long enough for Genius to count it as an entirely different section of the song than in Meek’s verse. It was “Interlude” when I looked but it might be “Post-Chorus” now. Yeah, it should be clear I don’t care enough about this song. I do like Drake’s delivery in the hook, though, it’s pretty energetic, but not enough to save it.

#10 – “Nothing Breaks Like a Heart” – Mark Ronson featuring Miley Cyrus

So, yeah, I like this. It starts with some beautiful strings right before Miley Cyrus fades in with her country twang that I’m starting to really appreciate, and those guitars come in to complement her and the deeper bass that I like the addition of, it really contrasts the otherwise pretty light production, that seems to be dramatic but kind of unfitting for the lyrical content about how the world can hurt you but heartbreak is the worst possible thing, because despite the beat’s melodrama it’s too upbeat to really work here, I feel. Ah, well, the hook is pretty memorable, and the orchestral stings is just one little barely-noticeable production quirk that I can talk about, seriously, Mark Ronson puts so much effort into crafting these songs over the years, it’s pretty great. It may be a bit too repetitive and slow for my taste, but, yeah, I can dig this. Good song, just not much to say about it.

#4 – “The Power of Love” – Dalton Harris featuring James Arthur

The girl gets Leona Lewis, the Scouse dude gets Kaiser Chiefs, yet the WINNER gets James Arthur?! Really, James Arthur? Poor dude. You must know you’re an amazingly talented singer when you get James Arthur put on your song and you still make a surprisingly decent winner’s single, hell, even win in the first place. Arthur is such an awful vacuum of talent, I was scared Harris would be affected by this but no, even with my half-bothering with the show this year I can tell he’s been consistently great, and he’s definitely not bad on here either, although the production has no unique charm to it and is just plastic Syco production as you expect, with James Arthur bringing an above-average performance (this means still pretty bad) with his moaning and straining that just pains me to listen to. Seriously, James, let’s have a cactus-to-man talk and let me teach you how to not sound like my dead cat who just popped some Xanax.

Conclusion

Worst of the Week goes to Dalton Harris and James Arthur for “The Power of Love” – at least “Going Bad” has some energy and legitimate soul to it, although Meek Mill and Drake still get Dishonourable Mention. Mark Ronson and Miley Cyrus take Best of the Week home for “Nothing Breaks Like a Heart”, and hell Kanye and Nicki made “MAMA” bearable enough for them and 6ix9ine to get Honourable Mentions. See ya next week, where we’ll probably see a few more Christmas songs. Delightful.