#booker is so real also

[jadecantcreate]

ceramic booker

based on this little guy i found on pinterest!

[apolaskiart]

"Booker and Grumley Play Five Nights at Hollywood" aka they get traumatized by perverts. (For Day 31 of Shiptober - Halloween)

[weirdbabs]

gonna come right out and say i think sophie s is sophie starchman

[radiaking]

Rip to anyone that got to meet coop pre-war who has to deal with the ghoul at his worst tbh…..

[up-in-flames-writing]

From a pagan perspective, 'xmas has pagan roots' SHOULD BE AN ANTI-XMAS SENTIMENT! I don't want to celebrate xmas in any way, shape of form. I want to celebrate the original winter holiday my culture had long before the xtians colonised us. When a pagan says 'xmas has pagan roots' we're not saying 'you should be fine with celebrating xmas even if you're not xtian'. We're saying 'this holiday is stolen, it is a form of colonialism that has taken over our original cultures, this is a reason to be angry & to strive for a world where xmas isn't synonymous with winter.' Especially since xmas doesn't just have ONE pagan root! Polish xmas looks different to British or American xmas because my understanding of xmas was coloured by my country's Slavic pagan roots, while the Brits & the Americans were inspired by Celtic pagan traditions. & sure, things like Santa being based on Odin might be rather universal, but across the globe xmas has roots in many pagan traditions, all of which deserve to take back what the xtians stole for us. Because 'xmas has pagan roots' shouldn't just be a rallying call for Celts or Nords, it should signal to all pagan cultures that this is something they can take back from xmas, that they CAN reinstate their own holidays instead of being forced to comply to this coloniser bullshit of a holiday.

I went on a bit of a rant & might've lost the plot, but basically what I wanted to say is that 'xmas has pagan roots' used only as 'you should be fine celebrating xmas even if you're not xtian' usually comes from atheists. Most pagans I've seen use it to mean 'this holiday is stolen, & you should be ashamed for trying to force people to assimilate & comply' because we don't want to force people to celebrate things they don't believe in just as we were. We just want to get our own holidays back from the clutches of xtianity, & we're really in the same boat here as Jews & Muslims & other 'big' (non-pagan) religions when it comes to xmas.

Reminder that Christmas is a religious holiday and all the things that come with it (the tree, the colors, the traditions, etc.) are apart of it (even if you don’t celebrate for religious reasons it still is) and if you say “Oh it’s just part of the season” you’re throwing your Jewish & other not Christian religious participants under the bus

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Terry Pratchett about fantasy ❤

Terry Pratchett interview in The Onion, 1995 (x)

O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?

Terry: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.

O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.

Terry: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.

O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.

Terry: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus.

Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.

Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.

(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself.

[girltomato]

sweet girl: the soft launch attempt

max verstappen x fem!reader

no warnings

max and his author!gf attempt to soft launch their relationship, but y/n's readers are amateur detectives and the orange army are just there for the ride.

fc: phoebe dynevor

liked by yourbff, harpercollinsuk and 30,281 more

yourusername quiet shh shh

( ♫ It's Oh So Quiet - Betty Hutton )

view all comments

yourbff missing u🤍🤍🤍 have lots of fun bb

⤷ yourusername i have so much to catch u up on🤭🤭

user1 congrats on being a nyt bestseller (again), bloodhound is insane

⤷ yourusername ty cutie💓

user3 the song... girl u aren't slick😭😭

user2 dear mystery man pls treat her like a queen she deserves it🙏🙏🙏🙏

user6 if all my books were million sellers i too would spend my free time on the beach with a hot man

liked by 12,403 people

f1gossip Eagle eyed twitter fans believe they have discovered the identity of Max Verstappen's new girlfriend.

24 year old Y/n L/n is a 3x New York Times best selling author and is shortlisted for the Booker Prize Award 2023 with her second novel Swan Song. She released her third novel, Bloodhound three weeks ago to critical acclaim.

She was spotted spending time on a yacht in St. Tropez with Max earlier this week and fans connected an Instagram post shared by the author and a story posted by Max the same day.

Max has admitted to not being a big reader, claiming to have only read four books in an interview earlier this year - two of which where L/n's novels. He began following her in 2021, she followed him back in early 2023.

Could we be seeing a new couple in the paddock soon??

Share your thoughts and opinions below.

view all comments

user27 a wag with a real job, we have entered the glory days

user82 followed since 2021🤭🤭 max verstappen u simp

user49 let's see how the wannabe wags and gold diggers react to this😭😭

⤷ user20 i know some paddock regulars just started sobbing

user63 omg i love her books i never expected this crossover

user91 i'll believe it when i see it, max has always preferred the model type

⤷ user41 girl be serious have u seen y/n??

user58 max verstappen i was not familiar with ur game

user10 she's so pretty i hope this is true

my first post on this acc hi everyone. i have a few plans for the sweet girl universe but i am incapable of writing in chronological order sooo apologies. also working on a fem!driver oc who i love with my whole heart just trying to figure out how to format it. anyways i hope u enjoy.

likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[terastalungrad]

Sometimes, you’re a comedian with a touring show to promote, so you do an interview with a regional newspaper.

I think that’d be the funniest possible time to reveal a big scoop, wouldn’t it?

Stewart Lee is currently touring, and to promote his Yeovil performance, gave an interview to Blackmore Vale Magazine.  According to Wikipedia, the Blackmore Vale is an area of north Dorset, south Somerset and southwest Wiltshire.  According to the comedian Jake Baker, the magazine would cover his school sports day as he grew up in Dorset.  That’s the level of news you’d expect.

The questions are friendly and easy, from a journalist clearly familiar with Lee’s work and history.

The first question is about the show’s angle.  Lee describes the nature of the show, and here’s an excerpt:

So it looks like stand-up, and sounds like stand-up, but it’s actually a kind of character piece about a desperate person who’s frightened and trying to organise the world in a way that puts them in control. And I guess you could argue that’s what a lot of stand-ups are doing anyway. Ricky Gervais to me looks like a very frightened man. He’s frightened of transgender people coming after him, the act is a defensive wall.

Fun!  This is a Ricky Gervais hate blog, so it’s nice to see a sudden, unexpected attack in an unrelated promotional interview.

Lee mentions Gervais again in response to question four.

Sometimes I become bitter and think ‘I get all this good press, why can’t I get 10 million quid for a TV special like Ricky Gervais?’ But on the other hand, I wouldn’t want that audience, it wouldn’t allow me to be better.

And then again to question eight, where Lee explains why he spends six months running new shows in the relatively small Leicester Square Theatre (as opposed to arena comics who might do 10 warmup shows followed by 60 tour dates).

You can still run it like a club gig, you can interact with people in real time. Also, you wouldn’t get better at the show because you wouldn’t have done it as many times. You can see this with an act like Gervais. Those shows have not been run in, they’re not fluid, they’re a succession of inflexible statements that would snap like twigs if the pressure of an unforeseen event was applied to them.

The journalist finally addresses this head on.  It really is worth reading the entire article - there’s a lot more than I’m quoting, including an interesting story about Sean Lock:

But here are my favourite bits:

[Gervais] still kind of copies me though, which is the weird thing. There’s still a lot of cadences of what I do but they’re used in the service of evil. In Star Wars, he’s Darth Vader and he’s taken the force, which is me, and used it for evil purposes. He was a fanboy, he was actually the booker at University of London and used to book me and Sean Lock all the time. And when he became famous for the Office, he wrote an hour-long act that was so indebted to us it was awkward. [...] If he’d come up through the circuit that would have been rubbed off him because you find your own voice doing club gigs. It took me two years of gigging five nights a week to come through the mesh of things I liked. But he didn’t have that experience in the same way. [...] Funnily enough, in his first show there were bits I’d never recorded that he’d do almost verbatim. He’d clearly remembered them. I went to see him at the Bloomsbury – on his invitation actually – with my then girlfriend and she was very concerned for me. I’d given up at that point due to lack of interest, and she was concerned for what it felt like to see my act being done to hundreds of people, it was quite weird. On the other hand, that sort of did make me think I don’t want it to be consumed into someone else’s vocabulary. And also, I think because he had a residual sense of guilt, he would always credit me in interviews as being an influence – that helped me in 2004 to get the audience back.

This is, to my knowledge, the first time Lee’s ever claimed that Gervais stole his material.  He’s certainly talked about Gervais clearly taking influence from him (though in the past, he downplayed this compared to the account given in this interview).

It’s a pretty big thing to accuse a comic of stealing material.  That’s a big taboo.  I reckon this is partly because Lee wants to discourage fans of Gervais from coming to the show.

Anyway, let’s finish by quoting the end of the interview:

It must be strange to have that level of financial remuneration and those audience figures but not really a single good review. And I expect what that does for you is create a cognitive dissonance where you have to manufacture a worldview by which the whole world is wrong and you’re right. Which can’t necessarily be very good for your mental health, although I expect the money’s nice.

[emblemxeno]

Honestly it's really funny that the recent discourse I was unwillingly embroiled in revolved around stuff like power hierarchies and racial biases in written works, cuz my English Studies class in uni tackled this exact same stuff.

And I don't wanna be like "well my college said this so obviously I'm correct", but what I will say is that R*xis and his weirdo clique would be looked at weird were they in that class lol.

For example, some of the things we talked about after just a few weeks was hegemon powers enforcing their views and perspective onto the people as a new status quo and how that's Not Good™️, and also how the ideas of merit-based power structures and "pulling yourself up by your bootstraps" is a hinderance to progress as it puts the onus of responsibility on to the oppressed to escape their own oppression. We discussed all of this because most of the literature we looked at was by black and non-black critics of white supremacy, class structure, and generational wealth. We even looked over the Civil Rights Act and the Housing Discrimination Act to prove points about this.

Claude being written to support Edelgard's ideals not only makes him look worse in a writing sense, but also in a moral, racial, and political sense. He supports what's equivalent to a Booker T. Washington way of thinking when he supports Edelgard in Hopes. He lacks his curiosity, perspective, and unwavering belief in treasuring life in Hopes, character traits that he not only was explicitly shown to have brought with him from Almyra (i.e. BEFORE THE ACADEMY), but were also developed as a result of him being of mixed race. I rake 3H over the coals for its attempts and failures at tackling racial dynamics and oppression in its storytelling, but Claude-for the most part-was relatively unscathed. Then Hopes came and made everything worse.

So, historically in both the FE series and the real world, what Edelgard does is for the worst, and making Claude support that without question is not only a slap in the face for fans of his 3H characterization, but a slap in the face for the first brown main character in the FE series.

[wrishwrosh]

re: tags on labor in historical fiction post, would be very interested to hear what the four examples you mentioned are!!

ok u know what that tag WAS bait, thank you for taking it. technically speaking these aren't works dealing strictly with labor in historical fiction, they are my four treasured examples of BUREAUCRAT FICTION (so not NOT about labor in history?) i was gonna try to make this post pithy and short but then i remembered how extremely passionate i am about this microgenre i made up. so sorry.

bureaucrat fiction is not limited by genre or format but criteria for inclusion are as follows: long and detour-filled story about functionary on the outside of society finding unexpected success within a ponderously large and powerful System/exploring themes of class and physicality and work and autonomy and what it means to hold power over others beneath the heartless crushing wheels of empire/sad little man does paperwork. also typically long as hell. should include at least one scene where the protagonist is unironically applauded-perhaps for the first time in their life-for filling out a form really good. without further ado:

soldier's heart by alex51324. the bureaucracy: british army medical corps during wwi. the bureacrat: mean gay footman/new ramc recruit thomas barrow. YEAH it's a downton abbey fic YEAH it's a masterpiece. i've talked about it before at length, my love has not faded. the crowning moment of bureaucracy is a long interlude where thomas optimizes the hospital laundry (this actually happens twice or maybe three times)

hands of the emperor by victoria goddard. the bureaucracy: crumbling fantasy empire some time after magical apocalypse. the bureacrat: passionate late-career clerk from the hinterlands cliopher mdang. i reread this book every winter bc it is as a warm bath for my SAD-addled brain and every time i neglect all my responsibilities to read all nine billion pages in three days. it puts abt 93% of the worldbuilding momentum into elaborating all of the ministries and secretaries and audits necessary to run a global government and like 7% into the magic and stuff. there are also several charming companion novellas and an equally long sequel that dives more into the central relationship between cliopher and the emperor which i highly recommend if you like gentle old man yaoi and/or magic, but there's more bureaucracy in HOTE.

the cromwell trilogy by hilary mantel. the bureaucracy: court of henry viii. the bureaucrat: thomas cromwell, the real guy. curveball! it's critically acclaimed booker prize winning rpf novel wolf hall! mantel is really interested in particular ways of gaining and maintaining power in delicate and labyrinthine systems like the tudor court, specifically in strongmen who use both physical intimidation and metaphysical manipulation to succeed. under these conditions i do think my best friend long-dead historical personage thomas cromwell counts as Bureaucrat Fiction (as do danton and robespierre in a place of greater safety. bonus rec.)

going postal by terry pratchett. the bureaucracy: fantasy postal service of ankh-morpork. the bureaucrat: conman, scammer, and little freak moist von lipwig. this is definitely shorter and lighter than the other three entries on the list, sort of a screwball take on the bureaucrat. but the mail is such a classic bureaucracy thing? who doesn't love thinking about the mail? also contains a key genre element which is a fraught sexual tension with the person immediately above the protagonist in their hierarchy, who is also their god-king and boyfriend-dad. you can't tell me vetinari isn't torturing moist psychologically AND sexually.

anyway sorry about all this. if you've read any of these come talk to me about them. bureaucrat fiction recs welcomed with the openest possible arms.

[nevermindirah]

I have a hard to answer question how does one handle in a fanfic tog not going after shitler with Jewish!booker on the team without them coming off like assholes in regards to the human cost as well as the personal cost to booker, cause I'm drawing a blank

hi anon!

this is a super duper big large heavy question, and it's also one that might, depending on the context of your fic, have a very simple answer: the immortals are, other than their immortality, human, and therefore they can each only be in a single place at once.

they don't have superhuman strength or speed, they don't have magic, they don't have access to time-travel technology. I'm not an expert in ww2 military strategy but I'm sure allied governments looked into assassinating Hitler, and nobody managed to do it until the shitstain killed himself. the immortals are highly skilled and well-connected but not at the level of for example the agency that would go on to become the CIA, so who's to say they'd be successful in this assassination if they tried.

there's also the matter of when and for what reason the immortals might decide that killing this particular shitstain should go at the top of their to-do list. it's so easy for us to say in hindsight that a catastrophic volume of suffering could've been averted with this one person's death 10-15 years earlier than what happened in our timeline, but even with the strategic benefit of that hindsight, none of us can predict exactly what would've happened after a successful assassination in 1939, 1932, or even earlier. killing one leader doesn't ensure the movement he leads will stop with his death; someone even worse could have stepped in under the banner of a martyr.

things had gotten bad for Jews in a lot of places many times before things started getting real bad again in Germany. again, I'm not an expert, so I don't know when anyone outside of Nazi senior leadership knew anything about plans for the Holocaust — but would any of the immortals have learned about it sooner than international news media did? would they have known about it early enough that it was possible for a group of four immortals to stop? would they have believed such horrific plans if they'd seen them on paper? there's historical evidence that US officials didn't believe early reports could possibly be true.

there are photos on Copley's wall showing the immortals in Europe at several points during ww2 and there's that one panel from one of the comics of some of the boys being involved in liberating one of the camps. but we don't know details beyond that, and we don't know what the immortals were up to in the 1930s. they may have been very, very busy doing what they could to protect people from Japan's horrific war crimes of the same era, which started several years earlier than the Third Reich.

none of that is to say it would be easy for the immortals to know that the Holocaust was happening and not stop it. I'm sure it was devastating for all of them, who'd already seen so much needless painful death in their long lives, to see the ruthless mechanized efficiency of Nazi mass murder. it would be especially devastating for Booker, even without the Jewish Booker headcanon, bc his children died hating him bc he could not save them no matter how much they begged and no matter how hard he tried.

so my hope for the fic you're working on is that you'll show at least a little bit how their inability to stop these horrors weighs on the immortals. show the personal cost to Booker. do the others get why such horrors happening to his people, who are specifically being targeted because they are Jews, hurts him so badly? or does Andy make dark jokes about how God really must not exist or what did Booker do to piss him off.

does Andy make dark jokes like that bc she sees Quynh's face in every woman they rescue from the Japanese army's rape campaigns? it would have been just as impossible for the immortals alone to save every one of them as it would've been to stop the Holocaust. might their personal connections to victims thousands of miles apart in a war causing overwhelming suffering across most of the planet wear on the immortals' relationships with each other? they can only do but so much. how the hell do they choose which people to try to save?

now that I've thought about it, writing a fic where they do kill Hitler might actually be easier. you can just handwave the deeply frustrating logistical realities and make it so that conveniently killing the nightmare in charge happens to cause the whole house of nightmares to fall apart. (you can also handwave that in your new timeline non-Jews across Europe welcomed their Jewish neighbors home with open arms, when very often the opposite happened irl.)

this topic is so rich for all kinds of exploration in fic. you could end up with a long and plotty meditation on how painful it is for the immortals to have to choose between so many people who need their help. you might have only been asking for the sake of some references to this era of the past in a fic set during or after the movie where the historical timeline is set in stone, in which case I hope what I've shared here leads you to writing those passages with appropriate seriousness and care, even if it's ultimately a small part of a story mainly focused on other things.

this was hard to answer, but not intellectually, this kind of analysis is how my brain works. it just hurts my heart to think about how much my people have lost, how much pain so many people have suffered, and how much suffering is happening right now that there's so little I can do to stop. if I were immortal right now how the hell would I choose between Palestinians and Massalit people and Uyghurs and Rohingya and the multitude of Latin Americans suffering at the US border, all the Black Americans suffering systematically in US prisons, all the other people whose catastrophic suffering I don't even know about?

but I'm glad you asked bc this is such an under-considered element of TOG that's very worth the spotlight. I hope my thoughts here help you, and maybe others will see this and think about it as well.

[ginsengkitten]

༺ Beautiful Dangerous༻

A slashxreader fanfiction

༺☆༻

Chapter One:

Tower Records

word count: approx.: 2900

Trailer/Moodboard here :)

☆ Authors Notes ☆

ty for reading. This is mostly a world building intro but I hope y’all like it :) - also I will be including photos and music that inspires or I felt matches each chapter, just for fun. This story takes place in some sort of fictional timeframe of 1984-86 ish when GNR had just started developing/finalizing their OG line up. I know not all the pics and timelines necessarily add up but this literally isn’t real so whatever!

Track list:

You really got me - The Kinks

Green Onions - Booker T. & the M.G.s

Foxey Lady - Jimi Hendrix

Your parents had shipped you out to your cousins home in the Hollywood Hills every summer since you were 10. The sprawling green hills sprinkled with Tuscan topped mansions upheld to excite you. Simply because there was so much more to be discovered outside of the ritz. This summer was going to be perhaps the best one yet, because now that you were turning 18, Uncle Rob would finally allow you to go down into the city for the first time.

Uncle Rob and Aunt Shena were the most uptight, stick up the ass, pair of individuals to bethrall the hills. You would think with the unceasing access to every pill, herb, and juice in Hollywood from Robs fancy job would have eased them up over the years; their long time neighbor, Dave, was one of the most sought out coke suppliers in the area - or at least that's what your cousin Daisy has told you- and Daisy liked to dramatize occasionally.... Daisy also says that her parents think too much ibuprofen could spell a trip to the confessional at church. This statement however was proven to be true because of the time Aunt Shena almost refused to give you a 50 mg Tylenol the time you had started your period in their guest bedroom.

Needless to say, it was in agreement with your own parents that you'd not be permitted to go down to the city until you were 18. "The city is where the devil preys on gods most vulnerable and precious spirits" Aunt Shena would recite this at least ten times throughout each summer visit, sure to remind you of the evil that lurked in the streets below. Most summer weeks were spent at the house, but it sure beat Indiana summers back home. Mondays were family nights at home, Tuesdays were beach days, Wednesdays were usually home days too but occasionally sailing on the family boat was allotted. You didn't have a boat back home in Indiana. Daddy's money was steady but not BOAT money steady. Plus it was Indiana- where would the sailing even take place? Lake Michigan?

Thursdays, the cinema would have discount movie matinees. If the film had been pre approved through the other moms in Aunt Shenas crochet circle, then she would take you and Daisy to go see it as a treat. Occasionally, Daisy would ask to use the restroom and you both would sneak into another screen room to peek at the other movies you weren't allowed to see, up until you accidentally snuck into a showing of 'The Evil Dead'. Both you and Daisy had nightmares for weeks and her parents couldn't figure out why, and no shot in hell would either of you admit what happened.

Daisy was fun and secretive like that. You appreciated her ability to lie straight to her parents face. Daisy liked to adventure a little bit more than what her parents would allow. Naturally she became versed in the art of bullshitting her parents.

Daisy was almost like a stranger to her parents. It was sad in a way but mostly just impressive. Daisy would steal cigarettes from her dad and stash them in her pencil case and sell them to the other girls in her church group. She also snuck out regularly, mostly to the local park to meet up with boys from school. She was brave. Real brave. She was cool. Real fucking cool. In fact, she was so cool and so brave, that she got the mastermind plan to steal her fathers Pontiac Firebird while he was away on business and Aunt Shena was knocked unconscious from her qualludes. (But god forbid ibuprofen right?).

"I don't know why I hadn't done this sooner!" Daisy bounced in the drivers seat like a mental patient. The engine cried out aggressively and the whole vehicle roared awake. There’s no way the entire street didn’t hear that. "And you're SURE your mother isn't going to find out? What about your daddy?" You pegged for final assurance from Daisy before becoming an accessory to theft. "Daddy won't ever know. You know why? Cuz' you remember Jeff from my church? He showed me how to roll back the odometer on a car in exchange for...well for never-mind but you don't gotta sweat about a thing Y/N. Now cut the square talk we gotta get to Tower Records before it closes!".

That's another thing Daisy kept secret. Her music. Daisy had a whole stack of vinyl records along with a record player, stashed under her bed. She would purchase raunchy records like Tina Turner and Cheap Trick, and slide them in the back of the more inconspicuous records like Chuck Girard and Bob Dylan. One of Daisy's boyfriends last summer had gifted her an Aerosmith record. Daisy played it for you once and that's how you first learned what rock music was. Some kind of bug bit you then. You itched to hear more, but between the uber cult of Daisy's parents and your own sheltered family back in indiana, who were perpetually trapped in the era of disco music, rock music was hard to come by. Rock music was foreign to you but felt familiar. You'd never felt a craving for sound before hearing it. So when Daisy devised to steal her dads car to go visit Tower Records in the city, you shoved all notion of "evils that lurk below" and the two of you ripped down to the sunset strip.

-

It wasn't that you weren't adventurous too. You could be if you wanted to. You were just too busy to be bothered with mischief like Daisy. While you believed yourself to be an open minded individual, it was clear Aunt Shenas repeated affirmations of danger sat in the back of your mind, welling up further and further to the forefront while the lights of the city glittered closer and closer into view.

"Wow wow wow Y/N...look at it all right? You seein this?" Daisy's eyes glazed over as the neon lights poured over the Pontiac. It was like nothing you had ever seen before. Or her. Daisy had only made it down to the city a handful of times but never at night. Each building had its own neon get up signage. Loads of people strolled the night street. It was busy! Your heart pounded in your chest a little bit. Fear and excitement all in one. You couldn't take your eyes off the passing sceneries. You tried to take it all in. Burger joints you had seen a million commercials for bustled with crews of hot rods parked in the parking lots, engines proudly displayed. Beautiful women leaning into the windows of old rusty cars, hung out on the darker corners in big groups for some reason. Was everyone down here revolting against wearing clothes?

"Tower Records baby!" Daisy sang as she pulled into the parking lot. Huh. It wasn't really a tower like the name had suggested. Rather a dingy stand alone strip mall off the corner of the strip. The disappointing reality shocked you back to your more cautious senses. If anyone finds out we're here we're totally busted.

You stepped out of the car and a wall of hollywoods finest scents burned your nose. The air down here wasn't like the air in the hills. Air can't be so different like that can it? "God I hope they have the new Cyndi Lauper release." Daisy said, pushing into the store door with her back.

The door chirped out a small out of tune "ding!" To notify the staff of the new and completely out of element customers entering. Two scrawny flower fresh girls in inconspicuous uniform-like attire, looking plain and straight as an arrow. The saying "bull in a China shop" but as if curiously reversed "China in a bull shop". Daisy somewhat fit the bill better but you-you did not look hip enough to be in a record store, or the state of California. Even if it was a dingy strip mall. Which made you all the more nervous.

A few other customers sleuthed the aisles, clearly regulars. You tried to stay out of everyone's way while you tried to keep track of Daisy darting into the vinyl labyrinth. You scanned the sea of music. Tracing your fingers along the spines of sleeves. So much rock music! You glanced around to see Daisy already chatting up one of the grungy male employees. Your eyes caught a gorgeous vibrant yellow sleeve and you plucked it out. 'Are you experienced' by Jimi Hendrix.

You'd heard of him you think. Maybe on the news somewhere? He seems like a big rocker name.

You made your way over to the front corner  of the store by the check out where they had open record players where customers could play records and listen to new samples. You held the album in your hands and stared at its dazzling colors. Almost spellbound until;

"Foxey Lady."

The sudden voice snapped you out of your trance and you looked around. Suddenly catching the cashier at the empty register. Did HE say that? To ME? You hesitated to question if he spoke to you. He seemed like the type to cause trouble. Was this a cat call? Is this what cat calling is? One time mother had been cat called in front of a sears and daddy found the man who did it and really gave him a reaming. She warned you about dirty and dangerous men in the streets who call women obscenities for fun. What jerk cat calls a young woman shopping at their own store?

"Excuse me…?" You questioned.

"The record." He pointed to your hands gripping the yellow vinyl.

"Foxey lady. It's the best song on that album." He connected. Your eyes glance back down at the track list and sure enough 'Foxey Lady' was spelled out. Your face suddenly blooms pink in embarrassment as you look back up to him. That's not what you were expecting from this guy.

He leaned his back against the wall behind the counter. It was impossible to tell if he was looking at you because his eyes were protected from a curtain of thick, pretty dark curls and sunglasses….indoors….at night. His arms crossed coolly. He had an aura of mischief about him. He was almost like a ghost. Dressed in all black leather. You'd never seen someone dressed in only black clothes before. Maybe he was a rocker type too.

"Oh..uh….I'll need to give it a listen then." You replied politely and cordially with a nervous smile, averting his face to hide your obvious embarrassment. You became slightly flustered. He didn't drop his attention towards you. You start to fiddle with the record, somehow losing your sense of coordination because you were being watched. Suddenly the record isn't lining up correctly. The lid almost clamps on your hand but something catches it and spares your fingers. You look up again and he's now in front of you, acting like some sort of hero. An intense mixture of tobacco, rubbing alcohol and an almost sweet musk surrounds you. You now see that he is in fact looking at you. You stare at him like a deer in headlights. Stunned, embarrassed and confused at how he managed to sneak his way over to you so quickly. "Here, I'll play it for you." His lips curl up slightly into an almost sickeningly lovely smirk. He places his hand upon yours and kindly removes it out of the way. You step aside and allow him to continue, still stunned and nervous.

Not only had your heart already been on high alert from the firebird thievery, a guy was now in your direct personal space. A potentially dangerous guy. Well no- he wasn't cat calling you after all right? And he just helped you and? He is sort of nicer than you expected. He just seems so...cool?

All up in your personal space. It wasn't like you were a prude! You'd kissed a boy before! Even held hands too. Granted the kiss was on the cheek. But this guy just kind of....took over. His presence was so laid back and yet demanded the attention of the room. It was hard not to want to stare back at him. You wanted to better analyze this predator/prey situation here. If he's so dangerous, why is he being so kind? It took one glance at him up close and you were starting to call bullshit on Aunt Shena's precautions altogether. You'd been in the city for almost an hour and remained entirely unscathed.

Your hand still felt electric from his touch. His eyes only briefly detaching from you to put the record on.

A funky rock ensemble flowed out of the record. The same type of musical pleasure you had heard from the Aerosmith record, revisited your body. A rougher, harder groove than what's on the radio. It was melodic and fierce. The guy redirected himself to you once more. Watching you for your reaction to the song. You nervously nod your head to the beat, meeting his gaze. Once you connect sights, your stomach jumps in a swirl. Butterflies soar in circles inside you. This oddly intimate interaction but you couldn't seem to pull away. Almost spellbound yet again but for an entirely different feeling.

He began mouthing the lyrics, still staring back at you over a sea of tension thick air.

'You know you're a cute little heartbreaker'

Your face is rushing hot. It was almost like he was intentionally singing these words to you.

'And you know you're a sweet little love maker'

He smirked at this one. You turned now what you must have assumed was red with embarrassment. You break your gaze and look down at your shoes and then glance around the shop to locate Daisy. The shop was mainly now empty as the night had grown in. Daisy could still be found giggling away with another boy in the far end of the store. Your heart fluttered rapidly. You suddenly feel the air in front of you grow warmer. Looking back he had stepped closer to you and space between you had shrunk. He continues.

'I wanna take you home-

I won't do you no harm'

He held a smug look on his face as his lips mouthed these totally obscene lyrics to you. Like he knew it was not something you'd ever heard before. Your naïve shock seemed to entertain him.

'You got to be all mine, all mine'

Ooh Foxey Lady.'

"You dig it?" He asked still holding a smirk. "Definitely" You admit all too quickly. He give a slight breathy chuckle. Your sure answer when you had seemed so unsure about everything else til then was cute to him. A gal who was on board for rock n roll was nothing but perfection to him. But you didn't look the part, and that amused him. Your light floral scent drifted sweetly around him, he was unable to ignore you as soon as you had walked in and he had watched your every move. A nervous animal. Timid and clearly not someone he had seen in before. The girls that normally perused Tower Records were hot but they were rough around the edges. You- you were something sweet…something different altogether he thought. You were like a breath of fresh air to him. What's that saying...opposites attract?

"You like it so much you can have it." He said, his voice a lower octave.

"Oh well I was thinking of buying something el-" you started to politely object.

"No. " he laughs at your oblivion. "Just take it. It's yours." He pushes it into your hands. You're a little in shock once more just at the thought of stealing? Twice in one night? You really like the record and you would love to own it...but. You look around nervously.

"Here Foxey, All you." He firmly asserts it into your grasp, lets go and begins to walk back behind his counter.

"Y-you could get into trouble for this you know." You point out with concern for this kind stranger. He waves you off with his hand. "we're closing miss, you'll have to get." busying himself in false cashiering practices he had probably never paid attention to until now. Daisy meets you mid store. She hardly notices the record in your hands or the insane cashier who just let you steal from his store. "I've just met the cutest boy, Y/N! And he’s in his own band! I'll tell you on the way back. “ She giggled. “Let's get sodas maybe too if some where's open." Daisy ushered you to the door, blind in her own personal thrills to notice you looking back over your shoulder to meet the gaze of the cashier once more, who to your delight had removed his sunglasses, already staring back at you, watching you leave. He gave you another sly smile and you returned one of your own, forming some sort of mutual pact of this secret.

Why did he think you would keep this a secret? Why did he trust you like that? You were going to after all, but how did he know?

Doesn’t he care about getting in to trouble?

[lovemyths]

hear me out: zosan pro wrestling au

i'm a huge wrestling fangirl and i've been thinking about how zosan really fits into this. let me lay out my argument:

pro wrestling is a mix of sports + theater/entertainment right? so while there is a sports element, pro wrestling has storylines, characters, and wrestlers engage in more dialogue-based scenes (promos) outside of the ring. HOWEVER pro wrestling as an art form has the blurriest fourth wall EVER. they often blend reality and fiction. things in storyline are represented as Real. but more often or not, Reality is brought into storyline. a big example of this is that when 2 wrestlers dislike each other irl, good business practice is to turn it into a storyline. so a feud can be a mix of fictional elements mixed with real animosity. MESSY!!

also because it's scripted, everyone in the match/storyline has to agree. which means you have to be willing to lose, or "put someone over" (make them look good). obvs if there's real beef between 2 wrestlers the politics of that can get testy

similar to acting wrestling has CHEMISTRY. it's very clear when 2 wrestlers just click in the ring. in fact there is a term called wrestling soulmates, which people use to describe a pair of wrestlers who simply bring out the best in each other naturally.

so. zosan.

often rivalries have a babyface (hero) and a villain (heel). i have so many one piece pro wrestling au Opinions and scenarios, but my ideal one for zosan is:

it takes place in the indies. babyface!sanji (nicknamed black leg) and heel!zoro come up in the business around the same time. they wrestle for different promotions (companies; side note: indie wrestlers are not contracted like in wwe so they can wrestle wherever whenever) for several years before they so happen to be booked for the same show. because they're both rising stars, they are scheduled for a match together. they're already familiar with each other's work, but there's an immediate tension there bc they are both trying to be The Indie Wrestler of their era. and their personalities clash. they clash a LOT while planning the layout of their match together.

but when they get in the ring, it's magic. inexplicably it's as smooth as butter when they wrestle each other.

which is good for both their careers, but also bad, because they hate each other and now companies all over the country want to book them together. so they're stuck in a storyline together, and unfortunately, it's the best work they've done in their careers so far. the wrestling is great, and their promos against each other are heated and leave crowds coming back for more beause they can't tell what's real or not. backstage though they get along like cats and dogs, especially when it comes to deciding who wins each match + how they can still look strong in defeat. the bookers don't mind they're both such divas because they put on a damn good match whenever the bell rings

but obvs working so closely together leads to bonding anyways, not to mention the intimacy of wrestling as a sport. some wrestling rivalries last multiple years, or decades, and rivals often are forced to team up for storyline purposes to.

what i'm saying is that maybe their storyline ends up leading to them being a tag team and going on the run of the century. maybe sanji turns heel and they're just an evil wrestling duo wreaking havoc around the country (they're both nice people irl).

i have a gajillion thoughts on this but i will stop here.

[incorrectbatfam]

Can we get some gooner hcs?

You guys are really into this, aren't you?

I guess since I created the characters this would technically be their canon? Even though they're in the Gotham universe? Idk let's call it Schrodinger's Canon

Anyway, some basic tidbits I came up with:

When they're not doing crime, they hang out together sitcom style—usually at Rob's apartment in Burnside. He regrets telling them where the spare key is

Milo lives with Rob and the twins full-time because the alternative is letting him wander the streets as a minor. Rob is a criminal anyway so might as well harbor a teenage runaway while he's at it. The verdict is still out on whether Milo's just a tenant or if there's a familial relationship slowly forming

Gene also doesn't have his own house. He stays with Rob about half the time and the other half he stays with Otto or occasionally his ex-wife. The latter two live in Crime Alley so Gene prefers Rob's place

Blaise got kicked out by his parents for being a stoner. He lives in Milo's car in the parking lot behind Rob's apartment when the car isn't being used for missions. Mac is similar—he has an apartment but spends so much time in his ice cream surveillance truck that he keeps spare clothes and a sleeping bag there

Kellin made a decent amount in their hired killer days and has a few safehouses around Gotham and Metropolis. Their assassin paranoia keeps them cycling between places

Kellin also occasionally sleeps over at Booker's dorm at Gotham U. He's been getting them caught up on pop culture since they fell a few years behind

Otto is the only one trusted to babysit Jackie and Gunner. He might look like a grinch on the outside but he enjoys being around children

Gene invents new prototypes and Otto tests them behind his repair shop before giving feedback. If it involves chemistry, Molly will also give her input

Booker is the chaotic academic who turns every wall he sees into a detective board and often gets the right solution with the wrong formula

Ironically, Milo doesn't like racing video games and Grand Theft Auto. He thinks they're not nearly as exciting as the real thing

Molly and Blaise have feelings for each other but every time they try to get together the universe finds some way to stop them—bad timing, other people, and once a family of hungry raccoons

Gene unofficially coined the comedic physics that follow them as "the Looney Toons force"

The only ones not affected are the twins. Milo isn't affected as much compared to the adults too

Molly is a massive Gotham City Sirens fangirl. Sometimes, to get new ideas for her chemicals, she'll walk through Ivy's latest crime scene to see if she can use anything plant-based

Kellin swears the most but they do it in Thai because this is a PG-13 program

[bray-washed]

Some of you are gonna hate this, disagree with this, get mad at this. Whatever.

Let me say from the jump: CM Punk, 100% should not have assaulted his coworker. Should not have. That’s a fact.

HOWEVER, and this is in no way excusing the actions but this is not ALL his fault like everyone is saying. This entire scenario was building because TK cannot be a boss, that’s not to say TK is a bad person - by all accounts TK is known to be a good person just not a good boss. In TK’s defense (& being in the wrestling business as a booker & promoter myself) it’s hard to be a boss to your friends, because that’s what happened his employees became his friends and that’s a hard position to be put into; however, that does not mean he needs to neglect his duty as a boss and he clearly has. (& in my opinion, is being taken advantage of by people who are using him for his money but that’s a different conversation)

Watching that footage, it’s clear to see that CM Punk was telling the truth. Point blank, what he said happened that night, happened. So that leads me to believe that everything else leading up to that moment also happened. We can’t (conveniently) hear what’s being said but I would guess Jack said something that angered Punk - neither were really showing aggressive behavior, maybe when Jack went to turn away from Punk in the beginning & Punk pulled him back - but like? Jack was turning away mid conversation if I, as a veteran, was trying to talk to a new kids about something & they turned away from me? Yea, I’d pull them back… cause the entitlement is not happening absolutely now.

Seems to me like Jack Perry was being uncooperative from the get-go. Why? Who knows. That’s the real speculation, Punk will say it’s cause of his “friends” (the Young Bucks) influence which is a fair speculation but it could be anything. Jack Perry is young & dumb & is probably forming some kind of ego of “I know better than the old timers” every wrestler gets that mentality for a little while and they need to grow up & out of that mentality.

Punk comes from the era of wrestling where if you talk shit, you get hit - fuck around & find out, if you will… and I as well come from that era & mentality, being a professional is first on my list so I’ve never gotten into a physical fight but it doesn’t shock me or fill me with rage when it does happen - not saying it should but some people need to have those consequences come to light. Jack fucked around and Jack found out.

Now, whatever Punk said to TK, no clue… I don’t think just watching that that TK can say that he feared for his life there was nothing to fear there. Now, we can’t hear anything & I’m sure yelling was happening… but fearing for his life? Be so for real right now Tony, honey, you run a wrestling locker room… arguing is bound to happen… relax.

Genuinely, this showed most of us nothing & I don’t think it did anything to benefit AEW. AEW is just trying to fight fire with fire, for no reason. If TK wants to run a “business” then… do that. Want to know what WWE 100% would never do? Show footage of a former employee in a fight backstage. When all that nonsense when Punk left happened… did WWE show footage of Punk leaving to “prove a point”? No. Ditto for Steve Austin - who ALSO famously took his ball & went home and WWE has camera crew literally everywhere… there have been TONS of fights most likely caught on camera but we’ll never see them why? Cause they are a business.

I think this was a bad idea all around… but that’s just me.

(But also can we please talk about Samoa Joe just pacing back & forth, minding his business, getting pumped for his match…. I don’t know why but that just made me love him more.)

[obsidiancreates]

Just Another Day In The Dimwood

"How the hell did we end up back here?!" Booker whispers furiously to Grumley.

"I dunno," Grumley whispers back, almost whimpering. "We just ran and here we are!"

"Whatever Bitsy's going for in that hutch better be worth this." Booker takes a deep breath. "Okay, just this one last time. One last distraction in this godforsaken clearing and then we're never coming back here again!"

"Never?"

"Never, Grumley. Not even for all the gold in the Dimwood."

"Wow. Alright, one more distraction." Grumley looks down at the powder Peggy had given him before she, Hazel, and Bitsy had sprinted off into the woods. "I won't die, right?"

"I sure hope not, but it's Peggy, so I can't really confirm or deny that as a possibility."

"Well... here goes." Grumley shoves the powder in his mouth and takes a swig of the bottle Peggy had also given him. He coughs a little as thick foam begins to spill out from his jowl-covered mouth.

"Holy shit, it worked- I mean HELP! HEEEELP, OH GODS, THERE'S A-A RABID DOG! AHHHHHHHH!" Booker dashes into the main clearing, gathering as much attention as possible away from the party that had moments ago been readied to investigate why Smoke could be seen coming from that horrid hutch the heretic once lived in.

Grumley chases after Booker, growling and snarling as scarily as he can! He chases him all around the clearly, but the two keep a tight pattern around the path out of town towards Bitsy's old house. Mice and rabbits and cats and dogs alike all scream, chaos spreading as cries of "RABIES!" fill the air!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh, Bitsy! You didn't tell us you had cookies left in your house!" Hazel yanks the jar out of the old slightly-singed cupboard and begins wolfing them down without a second thought.

"To be fair we thought it'd burned down because she left the woodstove lit when we ran away before," Peggy says, looking through Bitsy's bookshelf which contains no books, but lots of jars of herbs.

"We did?" Bitsy herself is digging through the ashes inside said stove.

"You said you left it on, yeah."

"Wow. Well how didn't it burn down? Did you save my Hutch, Creator?"

"I must have." Peggy kicks over a bucket clearly left by the firefighting brigade that obviously came and stopped the fire so it wouldn't burn the entire clearing down. "What're we lookin' for again?"

"Is it that mysterious chest you told us about that first night?" Hazel asks as she finishes the jar of cookies. "Ooooh, scones!"

"No, not that." Bitsy moves on to look under the bed. "I'm lookin' for my best chewin' stick!"

"We're here for a stick?" Peggy pauses, then shrugs. "Just don't tell Booker, he might have an aneurysm."

"What's an Anne-your-eseem?"

"It's like your brain poppin' in your skull."

"Wow... I get that all the time!"

"I think that's just bubbles in your ears, Bitsy. I get it too when I-I climb really high and come back down."

"But I don't climb!"

"You do run real fast though, sort of the same thing. ... Somehow."

"I learn so much with you all."

"Well we're a very knowledgeable and well-learned bunch. What's this jar full of?"

"Poppy seeds. If you work with 'em the right way they make you all sleepy and relaxed and not in pain anymore."

"Oh, is that what this liquid next to them is?"

"Yeah!"

"Hazel just drank half the jar."

"Oh. ... It'll be fine, I think. As long as we don't gotta run real soon."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Booker and Grumely sprint away from the angry crowd. As soon as just one resident recognized them, the rest followed. Groups of angry, grieving families now chase them with pitchforks, scythes, and anything else sharp available in the clearing.

"GUYYYYS!!! WE GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!!!" Booker screams as they run towards the hutch.

"IT'S VERY URGENT!!!"

"WE HAVE TO GET MOVING AT A VERY QUICK AND CONSISTENT PACE!!!"

"FOR A REALLY, REALLY LONG TIME!!!"

Peggy looks out the window. "Yeah Booker that's not- HOLY SHIT- Bitsy you gotta wake Hazel up!"

"WHAT?!" Booker ducks as a rock flies by his head. "SHE'S ASLEEP?!"

"Well I'll just give her this white powder that makes me feel real fast!"

"Great idea."

Booker groans and looks to Grumley. "We're so fucked."