#maybe projecting a little .. but 'a lifetime of mistakes' is one hell of a title

[ningadudexx]

saving you from yourself 🫧

[strscrossed]

stupid, a high school reincarnation ficlet

yes that's the title. no it's not a joke. you'll see why. this wasn't edited at all and i'm in my feels right now after tiktok put me there. ANYWAY! here's the moment mikasa saw eren for the first time!

Mikasa felt like she had no reason to be so heartbroken. 

It was a rainy afternoon on a Monday in mid-October. Mina was her project and they worked well together. The project was already done and the two of them were just hanging out in the girl’s room. 

“Are you on Instagram? I want to follow you!” 

Mikasa shook her head, “I don’t really do social media.Tried it once, it’s way too stressful.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Mina went to the bathroom and Mikasa saw that the rain had let up a little bit. Well that was nice, maybe some fresh air. 

Big mistake. 

She didn’t know how she was going to meet Eren in this life, if she was even going to see him at all. As the years went by, the hope of it dwindled. There were other things going on in her life, so she tried not to think about how alone she was. Again. 

She never thought this would be how. 

Eren stood on the neighbor’s balcony and he wasn’t alone. There, on the balcony, for the world to see, he was making out with a girl. She didn’t know who and with their state of dress or lack thereof, it was obvious what they’d been doing.

Her chest constricted painfully and she forgot how to breathe. Her brain barely registered the fact that she was seeing Eren in front of her. It was now registering heartbreak on top of that. And all of that combined led her to gasp. And it was loud enough to get their attention. 

This was a nightmare, it had to be. Their eyes met and before he could even run, she ran out. She had to leave. She had to go. 

She heard her name and wasn’t sure who was calling it. The rain started again and she was soaked to the bone but she continued to run. 

This was stupid, so stupid. She had no right to be upset. She had her share of wild nights with random guys. It still hurts though. And she can’t breathe. She’d wanted to find him for so long. Things had ended horribly for them, but there was always that promise. 

See you later… 

Beer couldn’t solve this. It was time to break out some of Kenny’s cheap whiskey. She almost collapsed on the sidewalk, but she wasn’t dramatic enough for that. 

She never thought she’d see Eren again. Now, she wished that she never had… 

-

Eren was panicking. 

“You’re sure it was her, Eren?” Armin asked. 

He scowled, though Armin couldn’t see him. He’d been forced to drive home after driving around for an hour. He knew that it was her. He’d know Mikasa Ackerman anywhere. He’d only been pining after her all this life and last. 

“You think I wouldn’t be able to pick Mikasa out from a crowd. It was her, Armin. And she saw everything,” he gritted his teeth, kicking himself mentally again and again. 

“Damn it,” Armin let out a deep breath. “You’re telling me she’s been around this whole time and the first time she sees you in this lifetime is after you hooked up with Lara Tybur, is that right?” 

Eren made a noise, “I swear, Armin, if I have to repeat myself…” 

Armin mumbled something under his breath, “Okay, I’ll see what I can find out. But you better be ready to grovel because this is just one more thing you have to make up for. I can’t believe you, honestly.” 

“Yeah, I know. I already feel like shit, Armin, I’m just telling you that she’s here. I don’t know where she went but she saw me and booked it. You can punch me again at a later time. First, help me find her. That’s all.” 

“Oh, I will. But Eren? She may not be ready to talk to you. So be ready if that’s the case.” 

The line went dead and Eren was close to chucking it at the wall. 

He was an idiot. When he met Lara again, it was awkward as hell, obviously. But she looked so much like Mikasa, it was almost scary. The attraction was there and they’d been going at it since June. The fact didn’t escape him that he went from literally eating her last life to eating her in a completely other way. 

But Mikasa had seen and the summer he’d had was the furthest thing from his mind. Mikasa was the only girl that mattered to him. She was the only girl he’d ever loved, the only girl he would ever love. And he broke her heart. Again. 

Lara texted him earlier and he just told her that their little arrangement was over. There was no room for interpretation, it was done. He wanted to find Mikasa. He wanted to be with Mikasa. Only her, no one else. 

He just had to find her. And grovel. He was willing to get down on his knees and beg. He didn’t give a damn about his pride when it came to her. 

-

They went to the same school. In fact, they had study hall together. What the fuck, how had he missed that? Oh right, their teacher couldn’t care less if they showed up or not and didn’t bother taking attendance. 

She avoided him like the plague. He tried calling out to her and she just walked faster. It hurt, it hurt a lot but he was nothing if not persistent. 

He tried to find her during break and lunch, no luck. Last life, she avoided him like the plague whenever she was upset. She was doing just that. 

He did manage to run up to her at one point on Thursday afternoon, on the way to study hall. He tried to talk, he tried to say anything but she sighed. It wasn’t even a sigh of anger or frustration, she was just tired. 

“I’m not in the mood for talking, Eren. Please leave me alone.” 

“Mikasa, please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “I just want to talk. What you saw—”

“Eren. Leave. Me. Alone.” 

She disappeared into the classroom before he could beg again. Study hall was their last period but they weren’t allowed to talk. She just ran off. 

She didn’t want to talk. 

He stood there. He didn’t want to give up, but he felt like the biggest piece of shit. 

And maybe, he deserved it.

[epicstuckyficrecs]

Weekly Recap | March 30-April 5

Out of self-isolation, woop woop! Also a first for me, there’s a podifc on the recap for the first time!

Complete

💙 [Podfic] If They Haven't Learned Your Name by quietnight/ @quietnighty​ (Post-WS | Podfic lenght: >10h | Not Rated): aka Steve and Bucky's Global Honeymoon Revenge World Tour.

in the heat of the moment by Deisderium/ @deisderium​ (ABO, Pre-TFA | 9K | Explicit): In which Steve presents very late as an omega. Bucky isn't supposed to go see him, but when has he ever done what he was supposed to do where Steve is concerned? (Part 1 of would smell as sweet)

💙 good on my own (needed me) by mcwho (Modern AU | 12K | Explicit): There are some mistakes that could be made by anybody. Anybody. Bucky taught high school pretty much his whole life, and that was fine, those were kids, and he knew all of them anyway, which meant there was very little chance of him accidentally fucking any of his students during an impulsive post-marital-breakdown Grindr hook-up. Which is exactly what he had done with Steve.or: bucky has not let steve rogers fuck him since his sophomore year (Part 1 of himbo-verse)

cheffing and sabotage by mcwho (Modern AU | 3K | Explicit): "So,” Steve says conversationally. “That’s a yes on the olive oil. For lube purposes.” Part 2 of himbo-verse

Brooklyn by togina/ @toli-a​ (Post-WS | 8,7K | Teen): "Captain America, what's your stance on gay marriage?" Everyone knows that, by now. Everyone but Bucky.

Poise and Rationality (Have Nothing to Do with Steve Rogers) by romanticalgirl (Canon-verse | 1K | Teen): Steve does something stupid.

💙 bullet in a gun (but in the end, my time will come) by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid​ (Post-Endgame, Canon-divergent | 25K | Explicit): Post-Thanos, Bucky Barnes has happily settled into a life of peace and pining. That’s when alternate versions of the best friend he’s secretly in love with start showing up.

💙 Two Colors, White and Gold by Carelica (Canon-Divergent | 36K | Explicit): He’s here, he’s alive. His hand is on a tree.

Never go to bed alone when you have a library card by relenafanel/ @relenafanel​ (Library AU | 5K | Teen): Tall, blond hottie (in a sweater) was back, staring at the wall of new and popular titles with a thoughtful expression on his face. He came in every Tuesday night like clockwork, read through the summaries on the back of a handful of books with his profile turned just enough towards the front entrance that Bucky could see the slope of his nose and take joy in watching those arm muscles minutely flex as he shifted the book in his grasp.

💙 Like it’s the Only Thing I’ll Ever Do by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3​ (ABO AU | 39K | Explicit): When Steve opens the door, Bucky feels like he’s been living in clouds for the past few days, maybe even his entire life. Steve is life, Steve is happiness, Steve is the sun. He has such a visceral reaction to seeing the Alpha that he feels his knees go weak, feels his body draw tight towards the other man, pulled in. Or big Alpha Steve moves into sweet little Omega Bucky’s apartment building and a roller-coaster build of a romance ensues.

lay all your love on me by chilibabie07 (Canon | 1,4K | Mature): Bucky wakes up to an empty bed and goes to look for Steve so he can be cuddled.

WIP

Baby, you could be the death of me by SinpaiCasanova (Werewolf Steve, ABO AU | 1/2 | 3K | Explicit): It’s strange for him to consider that fate or the universe–whatever is driving this compulsion, really–needs Bucky here for some reason or another, but he’s passed by these woods at least a thousand times before on his way into town, and each time his eyes drifted toward the trees, his heart would give a restless tug against his ribs like an excited dog on a leash. Eventually, the call became too much for him to ignore, and so here he is, surrendering himself to the woods and praying like hell that he doesn’t end up in the belly of a beast by daylight.

The Mnemosyne Project by onymousann (Post-WS | 11K | 4/? | Explicit): Someone’s trying to talk to the Winter Soldier. Steve intends to find out who. (Part 2 of ocean eyes)

💙 How to Fuck With (and Feed) Your Soulmate by BlueSimplicity/ @bluesimplicity73​ (Soulmate AU, Shrunkyclunks | 11/? | 65K | Explicit): It’s called the Grey Space; a patch of skin marking you as blessed and the first sign you have a soulmate. Steve Rogers didn’t have one when he crashed into the ice. But he did when he woke up in the future. The second sign is the Sense, a sharing of one the senses to help soulmates find each other. Steve’s Sense, taste, is rare, but he loves a challenge and a soulmate is a gift from the Fates. Except instead of a blessing, it’s a curse, since his soulmate is a dick. Bucky Barnes loves food and a homecooked meal is something he cherishes. When his Grey Space starts to itch, Bucky can’t help his excitement, since the Sense he and his soulmate share is taste. But not for long. Whoever he’s bound to has the blandest diet in the world, ignoring all Bucky’s messages. After weeks of putting up with tasteless food, Bucky decides to strike back.

Re-Read

We're All Stupid When We're Hurting by Taste_is_Sweet/ @taste-is-sweet​ (Post-WS | 8K | Teen): Bucky had completed missions while in more terrible pain. It was amazing what you could push through when the punishment for failure was so much worse. But he hadn't needed to do that for over a year now. He'd gotten used to not being in pain, remembered what it was like to be human. He knew no one would ever put him in the chair again. He knew he was safe here. He knew Tony could fix his arm without hurting him. Of course he did. But it didn't make a damn bit of difference to the terror that shook him like a dog at just the thought of sitting down and stretching his arm out for Tony to fuck with. Might as well stretch out his neck to have his throat slit. Hell, that'd be easier.

💙 we gotta let go of all of our ghosts by hitlikehammers (Post-WS | 8K | Mature): It’s just hard, really, if he’s honest: this time, more than the first, here in a new millennium, having found Bucky again against all odds, in a time where there was hope, where they could have been… Well. It’s just that it’s bad enough to come in second place to a Stark once in his lifetime. But twice might just be more than Steve can bear.

The thing that drives the wolves away by caughtinanocean/ @wintergaydar​ (Post-WS | 7,8K | Teen): The thing about Bucky these days is that, while he might be a semi-mythical assassin, he's also vulnerable—the kind of vulnerable that makes total strangers want to drape a blanket over his shoulders and take him to safety. The problem is, of course, that Bucky is already safe.

[haloud]

take a chance and don’t ever look back -- chapter 4

ao3

Life in Roswell seemed impossibly small when he was a kid with a ticket out, but even then he had no idea how boring it could be. Work on the ranch keeps his hands busy and soothes his soul; the Fosters have been good to him in a life where Michael can’t say that often. Still, though, his brain paces his skull like a circus tiger, coiled and starving. People don’t talk to you when you start sixth grade in clothes three sizes too big; people don’t talk to you when you’re twenty-five and day drunk on household chemicals.

Boredom’s gotten Michael into trouble more and more over the past eight years but agreeing to help plan Isobel’s wedding just might take the (proverbial) cake.

Four hours into Isobel’s book of fabric samples, he’s slumped in the corner of his bunk and wracked with a new respect for his sister’s choice of career. He groans, “Why do you even need an assistant? You’ve planned a million weddings. And this time you won’t even have to argue with people who are too dumb to know that you know everything.”

Isobel stops pacing and wheels to face him with her hands on her hips, a pale satin tie clenched in each fist. “Because a good wedding is the result of the competition between two forces: an idiot with a vision and me, who knows how to make it happen. If fewer than five screaming fights take place, I consider a project a total failure.”

“Iz, I’m not gonna fight you; you know I’ll just agree because I want this to be special for you.”

“Well, if you really want this to be the wedding of my dreams—” She fights back a smile, “—you can start by having an opinion between ash blue and periwinkle. Really let me have it.”

“Periwinkle is for dumb sluts.”

“That’s the spirit,” she says, tossing the ash blue tie into the reject corner with all the rest. “Excellent. With that done, we’re all set for you guys’ fittings next week. Is Friday okay for you? Max has a thing on Saturday.”

“Iz…”

“You’re sitting in the front row, so you don’t get to say no. And before you say anything at all,” Isobel sticks her palm in Michael’s face, “I’m paying for Max’s suit too. As if I’m going to let my own brothers make their own wardrobe choices on my wedding day. How stupid do you think I am?”

“Front row, huh?” An unexpected lump in his throat blocks the words, leaving them watery and weak. He scrubs at the back of his head as Isobel gives him an exasperated look.

“Of course. None of Noah’s family will be there, so we’re not having traditional attendants or anything, but that doesn’t mean you’re not still my maid of honor.” She reaches out and cups his cheek. Her eyes glisten bright, too.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

“Doesn’t need to; you’re already here. Dumbass.”

Michael gasps dramatically as she claps him on the cheek. Then Isobel goes back into action mode, taking a step back, straightening her shoulders, and tossing her hair back like they hadn’t just been thirty seconds from weeping openly in each other’s arms.

“Alright,” she says, “I’m off to put the fear of god into a pastry chef. I’ll be back tomorrow, though—next, you get to help me put the playlist together.”

She tears out of the lot, the same terror behind the wheel she was at eighteen. He watches her go, unease prickling in his guts.

He…doesn’t want to put together a wedding playlist.

He hasn’t had much to do with music in a long time. Mostly, it just hurts. It hurts to not even be able to mock the fingerings against his thigh. It hurts to think of musicians who never got to live their dreams. It hurts to hear about love, and it hurts to be that guy who turns off the radio because of an old flame.

Not that Isobel knows any of this. Just another secret under lock and key. He’s got a lot of those, in the form of a literal locked box among several boxes he keeps shoved in drawers and under things, stuffed in the hidden corners of his life. He pulls it out and sits in in his lap; he fiddles with the little padlock holding it shut safe.

It—it was never an actual dream he had, or anything. It never formed fully in his mind. They never even knew each other until it was already too late, even if they didn’t know it at the time. Helping Isobel with all the preparing, it—it shouldn’t be this hard.

The problem is. The problem is he kind of likes it.  Sitting shoulder to shoulder with his sister on his narrow bunk while she lectures him on fabric integrity and color theory. Comparing flower varieties until he fears he’s lost his sense of smell entirely. Eating so much over-sweetened cake it makes him sick. It’s boring as hell, and frustrating, and overly extravagant, and. He wants it. And he shouldn’t want it. Not while he’s half a murderer with a rap sheet as long as Max’s latest light reading. Not while the only person he’d ever ask could be dead already, and no one even knew to tell him.

With an old, resigned ache beating dully in his throat, he slips the lock and nudges the box open. Inside are the usual suspects—old institutional copies of a human birth certificate, a Social Security card, some emergency cash, the title for his truck, all beside a small stash of other things. As a kid, he’d been a bit of a magpie. Treasure always found its way to his fingertips—pocket-sized ones, in case he had to leave again. Beads and bits of embroidery thread; glittering stones and false keys. He grew out of the habit slowly after aging out of the system. He kept what kept his memories alive and discarded the rest. He runs his fingertips over the remnants, and they feel impossibly small. A single earring of Isobel’s, missing its twin. A button off an old jacket of Max’s that someone might mistake for gold. A necklace he found at a secondhand shop—two bullet casings and a chunk of quartz threaded on a ribbon—he’d meant to leave on Rosa’s memorial before Max looked at him with salt and sulfur in his face and told him to stop going before people started talking. And there’s—just one other thing.

He stayed a magpie when it came to Alex Manes; he kept an unhealthy number of trinkets in a desperate bid to keep him close. A stub of eyeliner pencil he found in the footwell of the passenger seat. A handful of chipped guitar picks dropped on the desert sand by clever, distracted hands. Hell, he even kept an old flyer from the UFO Emporium, just because he remembered it tacked on the glass of the ticket window the day they kissed in the dark. But nothing Alex left him belongs in this box of mundane essentials and things a desperate someone might think to steal. Nothing except the thing that was never his, and always was.

Michael started helping Sanders out on weekends and days off school when he was fifteen. The old man’s sight was going, and though he refused to admit it to even Michael’s face, he knew it was a good idea to hire someone on to pick up the slack. The yard was the closest thing to a haven Michael had—it felt good to work with his hands, no one would go looking for him there, and even if Sanders could be a real bastard, he never raised his voice or his fists around Michael.

Late on a summer evening, Michael was bent double under the hood of a tourist’s Mercedes, searching for the source of a weird clunk its owner started hearing from the engine after an oil change, when he felt something cool and smooth on the tip of his finger. With a little extraterrestrial assistance, he straightened up with it in his palm—a simple silver band, no adornment, no engraving.

Sanders laughed his cackling smoker’s laugh about people dumb enough to lose a ring inside a car; red-faced, the car’s owner swore up and down that it wasn’t his, never seen it before, he’d never do anything that stupid.

So Michael just…kept it. Carried it around in his pocket. Kept it in his glove box, took it out sometimes to look at it, put it in his lockbox once he settled down a bit.

Even at seventeen, he wasn’t that kind of romantic. Marrying Alex Manes didn’t start to cross his mind until…he can’t even pinpoint when it was, exactly, that looking at the ring started feeling like looking at his future, started feeling like it deserved a matching set. It just feels natural, now, that the day he fell in love with Alex he already had a ring in his pocket.

He thinks back to being touched all nervous and hungry, and he thinks Alex might have loved him just a little, too. Maybe not enough, maybe not enough for a lifetime together, but Michael would still like the chance—that’s all he wants, just the chance—to go down on one knee and find that out some day.

But hey. It’s not about him right now; it’s about giving Iz the best damn day of her life. Helping her forget the secrets and the lies, just for a little. So he replaces the lock on the box, replaces his aching back on its shelf, and starts scrolling through the music on his phone.

He dances as Isobel’s wedding. He dances with his sister and with girls he knew from high school; he dances with Noah’s lawyer friends and other people he’s never even met before. He dances with acetone cutting his blood and his brain a thousand miles away, under vaulted ceilings and, later, under the stars.

--

In a clean, cold hospital half a world away, dancing gets a little more complicated for Alex Manes.

[napollya-inspiration]

Napollya AU Ship Meme

I told you I’d go find a ship meme to celebrate the 3 year anniversary. I found one that deals with AUs. One of my favorite things to think about. You’re all invited to join in with the fun of course. Tag me in your own take on this.

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter

I have a thing for Illya being a wolf and I wrote an (unpublished) werewolf story actually. But I also have an unpublished hunter!Illya and fawn!Napoleon lying around so I guess I can imagine both scenarios. I favor Napoleon as a normal human because I can’t see him go out and make a living of killing animals. 

But desperate circumstances, bad experiences or maybe Sanders forcing him to could motivate him perhaps. In the end, it puts them in a similar situation where they are on different sides. Something that could be worked with possibly.

whos the mermaid and who’s the fisherman

Now that’s a favorite! I’ve always wanted to write one of these for them because I’m so ready to see Napoleon as the charming merman that he is who can lure man and women alike into the stormy sea. 

I love Illya in hard jobs. I can see him come home to his mother who won’t ever say it but is actually scared as hell that one day her son isn’t coming back. And every night Illya reads something to her. 

One day his ship gets into a bad storm and Illya goes overboard. Napoleon sees him going down and is hesitant to help him. He doesn’t have a real reason. Sanders didn’t ask for him. But there’s something about him that makes him drag him back to the shore. When Napoleon wants to leave him, to get washed ashore the last distance Illya wakes up.

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar

Oh man, that’s hard. Magic AUs aren’t my favorite. So let’s keep this short: Napoleon as the witch and Illya as the familiar. Maybe he provides herbs? 

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict

We all know who’s the cook of the two. So Napoleon as the barista. It’s not too far from that. And Illya, a writer? An engineer? Spending nights working on his projects and coming in for a change of walls. Mostly because Gaby is done of him hanging around their flat all the time/his office depending on the career.

who’s the professor and who’s the TA

Oh, I need to make this professor Illya who’s annoyed by Napoleon’s cockiness but recognizes his talent. He wonders every day why he decided that talent wins Napoleon’s qualities.

who’s the knight and who’s the princess

Neither. If we take this medieval and want to find equivalents: Illya is a nobleman since in canon his father was an important government man. I could see after his father making his mistake that the fall into disgrace and have to flee. His mother gets them through the same way she does in canon. When Illya gets offered to work as a squire for Oleg they don’t think twice about the offer. Illya knows this is his one chance so he quickly becomes the best and a proper knight of their country.

Napoleon on the other side grows up as the son of a farmer’s family. It’s a hard life and it’s a dirty life. He’s fed up with it fast and dreams of being rich. Of going to these extravagant balls in clothes that cost more than a farmer will ever earn in their entire lifetime. He runs away and learns to steal. And he gets good at it. Soon he’s gotten himself a mansion and a title. As well as a fortune to live from. But he can’t stop so one day he gets caught and brought in front of the queen. She decides that his skill would be wasted if they killed him so she decides to put him into use. As a knight.

They meet in the war. Their countries are fighting a huge battle. It’s a massacre. Many people die. Innocent people die. Both Napoleon and Illya lose people that they are close to. In the end, they are both struck down and wake up in a battlefield covered with corpses. After a short testosterone fuelled field they both recognize they have nothing and they need to think about surviving before they can think about killing each other.

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent

I like Illya as a father. Just recently reblogged fanart that had Natasha (Romanoff - Marvel movies) as his daughter. I’m not even quite sure about him being the biological father to the child character. I could see her pick them up during a mission perhaps in a modern setting and retiring. 

Napoleon on the other notices the bright girl in his class but is worried about her anger issues. After Nat beats up a bully he has to call in her father. Who is too damn good looking. Who gave him the right? He wants to keep things separated. It would put him into a different position of authority and create a conflict of interests of sorts. So, he doesn’t pursue and Illya is too intimidated by Napoleon’s looks and charm.

So it takes Nat teaming up with Gaby to set them up and play a game of matchmaking.

who’s the writer and who’s the editor

Well, I already proposed earlier to make Illya the writer and I stand by that. There are a ton of fanfics that make Illya have some sort of creative outlet. And I do agree with that. It fits him.

Now, Napoleon is the editor who gets convinced by Gaby to give Illya’s script a shot since he usually pitches her those he takes one look at and refuses. She has great fun reading crappy fiction. And every now and then she finds a real treasure among them. Illya being one of them or so she says.

Alright, I hope you enjoyed this little adventure. I’m open to hearing your thoughts on this. Oh and I did receive all of your prompts but you have to cut me some slack in fulfilling them. 

[fromtheringapron]

Ranking the Songs on Piledriver: The Wrestling Album II

I had so much fun last year ranking the songs on WWE Originals that I’ve decided to travel back time over 30 years ago to ranks the songs on Piledriver: The Wrestling Album II. The first Wrestling Album was one of Vince McMahon’s many attempts in the mid ‘80s to present the WWF as a circus the whole family could love. They had a Saturday morning cartoon so why not take things one step further with an album featuring the WWF superstars themselves? In many ways, it was also the natural result of their relationship with MTV. Amazingly though, requisite player Cyndi Lauper didn’t partake. Instead, it was a pretty mixed bag of some of the most iconic entrance themes of the era and songs that were quickly forgotten, probably rightly so.

The second Wrestling Album follows that same formula. However, if its predecessor felt like a one-note gimmick, the sequel feels much more in touch with the pop sensibilities of the day. In addition to featuring more songs that would go on to serve as the entrance themes for several of the superstars here, there are a couple of tracks that could’ve blended right in with ‘80s Top 40. Even if their partnership with MTV was over by the time of the sequel’s release, 8 of the 10 tracks here got music videos, all released on a hot Coliseum Video release. Yes, there are some duds. Oh, boy, are there duds! No music production where Vince McMahon is involved would be complete without them. And you bet I’m gonna cover and rank all of them. As always, songs are linked in each entry so without further ado, let’s get to it:

1 (best). “Demolition” by Rick Derringer: A head-banger’s ball of loud noise and Hell roaming the earth⏤that’s literally the best way to describe this and I don’t even think it makes a whole lot of sense. This isn’t just the best song on the album; this is one of the best entrance themes in history. It can’t be stated enough how much this raised the bar on what a wrestler’s theme song could be. It manages to perfectly capture the essence of Demolition, the tag team, whilst sounding like an actual demolition. It sounds like burning buildings and brick walls getting bulldozed over, demon spawn crawling out from under the heaps of rubble. You can hear the Motley Crues of the world shake in fear somewhere in the distance. The thing is, Derringer already had enough of an accomplished music career at the time that he didn’t need to partake in such a gimmicky album, let alone give the performance of a lifetime. He didn’t need to go to this hard but he totally did. What an act of generosity. Bless him.

2. “Jive Soul Bro” by Slick: There’s no doubt the Slick character was largely birthed out of Vince McMahon’s racism. There’s also no doubt this song is a byproduct of that. Even its title should tell you how well Vince understands black culture. So with all that going against it, it’s practically a miracle the performer and producers have created something this stellar. This is an endlessly listenable piece of old-school hip hop, featuring some dope ass Santana guitar. There are so many ways it could’ve gone wrong but if it were to take its cues from anything, I’m happy it’s “The Message” by Grandmaster Flash. The sound is, well, pretty slick and could sound fresh on a dozen songs. Slick may have be presented as a stereotype, but he brings a ton of personality to this track. I personally love the inclusion of the female vocals. “NO WAY YOU JIVE LITTLE MOUSE” is certainly a highlight. It feels like I’m just listing off the good things about it, but I’d like to think they all tie together to make the song fantastic. It could’ve been a one-note production; it opts to revel in the potential of a three-dimensional world where Slick is the central character.

3. “Piledriver” by Koko B. Ware: Okay, so this actually slaps. Koko is the one member of the WWF roster who could’ve made a little career in music out for himself. He’s got so much charisma in his voice that it’s kinda remarkable it didn’t take him anywhere outside of this album. He almost makes me forget about the Sesame Street-level lyrics to this which include but not limited to “First you think you’re so strong/ but something goes wrong/it feels like a big bad mistake.” Love is said to be like a piledriver, as I guess they needed to tie it all back into wrestling somehow. Luckily, Koko’s voice isn’t the only distraction we have from the lyrics. The production is unexpectedly badass. It has absolutely no right to go as hard as it does. They could’ve turned it into a schmaltzy ballad but, god bless us all, they chose to dress it up in a leather jacket and torn jeans. Maybe love does feel like a pile driver. I don’t know; I’m not an expert. But if this song is any indication, it does at least sound good hitting the mat.

4. “Honky Tonk Man” by The Honky Tonk Man: Come on, you can’t just have The Honky Tonk Man not have a song on the album. That would’ve been remembered as one of the biggest blown opportunities in the history of recorded music, I’m sure. Anyway, this is everything it should be. Matches the gimmick perfectly. It’s catchy but never lets us forget that HTM himself is a total dweeb. Then opening guitar is now the stuff infamy. When it played in the arena, the fans knew a real asshole was about to walk his way down to the ring. I’ve never been a huge fan of throwback music because it often comes off as tacky and totally misses the point of what its bygone era of music so great. There was a troubling time in American history where we allowed The Cherry Poppin’ Daddies to make a career out of that sort of thing. But since the whole point here is to be as tacky as possible, I’m totally okay with it. It’s audio proof that a bad Elvis impersonation can really work.

5. “Girls in Cars” by Robbie Dupree & Strike Force: This is the biggest slice of ‘80s cheese on the album, which is appropriate because Strike Force is one of the definitive squeaky clean babyface tag teams of the era. I’ve always found the presentation of Strike Force kinda weird. Tito Santana and Rick Martel as teen idols? When they’re clearly two thirtysomething dudes with spouses and children? What? Why? Sonically, this is no different than a billion other pop rock songs of the era. It’s kinda catchy, kinda sounds like Uncle Jesse from Full House getting his big break. Dupree actually boasts some impressive credentials, with a Grammy nom for Best New Artist under his belt. He also had a top 10 hit in “Steal Away” which I’m sure you can hear playing at a CVS near you. Sadly, none of this can distract me from the fact that it’s still a song for two married dudes who are going too hard to reenact their best high school days which makes the overall effect really, really awkward.

6. “Waking Up Alone” by Hillbilly Jim & Gertrude: If there were ever a more unexpected song, I’d like to here it. When I first listened to it, I thought I’d actually made a mistake. Did I accidentally listen to the wrong song? Of course I didn’t but, man, this is so frickin’ bizarre. Hillbilly’s “Don’t Go Messin’ With a Country Boy” from the first Wrestling Album is kind of a bop but if you came into this album expecting more of the same, you’d be dead wrong. In fact, a standard ‘80s adult contemporary ballad is one of the last things you’d expect. Perhaps even more of a shock is that this is actually, um, not bad?!? I can’t hate on an 80’s ballad that knows its way around synths and percussion. Hillbilly’s voice is largely what you’d expect, though not super terrible or anything. Gertrude is the real standout here. I’ll probably never know her real identity, but she’s such a welcome presence on an album filled with muscled dudes trying to be singers. How did this poor woman get roped into this project again?

7. “Crank It Up” by Jimmy Hart: Literally every wrestler in the ‘80s and ‘90s used this as their entrance theme at some point.  Yes, literally every wrestler. I’m convinced of it. Recent WWE Network discoveries show even The Rock used it in a pre-debut dark match. Its status as a relatively evergreen piece of music isn’t all that surprising though. It’s generic heavy metal that can fit a wide range of gimmicks. Unfortunately, this isn’t anywhere near as catchy as it thinks. Jimmy Hart obviously has the chops to make a recordable song, but the trade off here is one that’s blandly competent at best. It tries to answer the question: is Jimmy Hart a rock ’n’ roll badass? And the answer is, no, he’s not. It’s really jarring to hear him talk about picking up chicks in his car or some shit. I can’t buy Jimmy as anything other than an annoying little mouse. I mean, that’s what the WWF wanted us to believe, right? This would be fine if it were parody, except I don’t think this is meant to be.

8. “If You Only Knew” by WWF Superstars: This sounds cute, in theory. Your favorite WWF superstars coming together to do some Band Aid collaboration should be at least get on through the absurdity alone. But in practice? Meh. Everyone sounds like they’re not even in the same studio with each other. That shouldn’t be surprising, but at least try to work me, y’know? There also aren’t any hilarious lines I’d usually expect with something like this. Just sounds like everyone is half-asking their part (except for Koko who, even in this bit role, seems to be stretching his vocals to their limit).It’s not even all that catchy, really. Astonishingly, this includes the only appearance of Hulk Hogan on this album. You’d think he would’ve had his own song here considering, y’know, he’s on the fucking cover. How dare they ignore the would-be bassist of Metallica like that? Oh well. At least we have the amazing Slammys performance to make up for all of this.

9. “Stand Back” by Vince McMahon: Dear god, where do I begin? Even if you’re not familiar with ‘80s wrestling, you may still recognize this one anyway, given its usage in the DX/McMahons feud of 2006. Its meme status aside, this is pure cringe. Maybe this is Vince’s way of waving his finger at the Jim Crocketts and Verne Gagnes of the world who doubted his clown shoes of a wrestling company. I honestly wouldn’t doubt he’d be that petty and ridiculous. Come on, who else could he be telling to stand back? It’s always fun to look for glimpses of the evil Mr. McMahon character he’d become, and it’s right here when he uses the the throaty “You’re firrrrreeedddd!” voice. Except he tries using it as a singing voice and the results are hilariously awful. I’m not sure who convinced him to do this, but I think it’s telling how it was brought up all those years later as a way to embarrass him. 

10 (worst). “Rock & Roll Hoochie Koo” by Gene Okerlund & Rick Derringer: To be fair, this isn’t the disaster I was dreading. I fully expected Mean Gene doing some excruciating throwback shit, but this is thankfully just him getting up on the stage on karaoke night after too many drinks. That doesn’t mean it’s good, because it definitely isn’t. While there are plenty of other songs here that can easily stand on their own two legs, this is one that totally feels like a novelty. After all, this is merely a cover version of Derringer’s lone solo hit from the ‘70s, so it feels kinda lazy. Did we really need Mean Gene’s take on it? Like, his take on the Star Spangled Banner at the first WrestleMania is more inspired than this. The production makes Mean Gene’s voice disappear under various guitar screeches, which is probably a wise decision. If I had my druthers, however, this entire song could disappear off the album altogether and I wouldn’t even care.

So there you go. Agree or disagree with this ranking? Am I just spouting nonsense? Will we ever see The Wrestling Album III? Is love really like a piledriver? While you’re pondering these questions, give this album another spin and, of course, don’t forget to crank it up.