#(I snowballed x))

[currymanganese]

GUYS, I CAN'T ACTUALLY BELIEVE I'M SAYING THIS, BUT WHAT IF THEY ACTUALLY HAD A GOOD REASON FOR JOHN CENA BEING CAST AS SAMMY FAK?

please bear with me (pun intended) and let me know what you think of my speculation under the cut~

In a mind-boggling case of a seemingly big-lipped alligator moment in season 3 - John Cena appears in a bizarrely over the top (even by the tonal comedic standards set previously by The Bear e.g. Ecto Cooler punch at a kid's birthday party getting spiked with Xanax in Season One) and jarring scene that stretches on and on as he obnoxiously squabbles, blathers and exchanges nonsensical rapid-fire quips with his brothers Neil and Ted Fak as they buff polish The Bear's dining area before a food photographer from The Chicago Tribune arrives to take a photo for a review of The Bear.

In this scene, he also intimidates and threatens to 'haunt' (in a Fak family tradition ( that even the Faks find annoying) - that involves pranking and being an unrestrained nuisance to their loved ones especially when they least expect it) his brother Ted for, "stealing his SD cards"......

This scene and the increased screen presence of the seemingly plot-irrelevant Faks this season is currently being eviscerated by plenty of fans and critics alike.

Edit:

I now strongly suspect that John Cena's role was always in the works ever since S1

..................................

But what if there's a (debatable, but) really good reason for this scene and the increased involvement in Seasons 2 and 3 of the massive numbered siblings family of Carmy's pseudo cousins, the Faks?

See Exhibit A:

In season 2, episode 3, Sundae - after Carmy has already asked Sydney out to Kasama, a husband and wife owned restaurant run by Tim Flores, and Genie Kwon*, ostensibly just to brainstorm and gain inspiration for planning for the new menu, and after Sydney has already gone home and freshened up and changed her clothes, then arrived to Kasama early, despite the meeting only being scheduled for an hour after she last spoke to Carmy at his apartment, Claire calls and interrupts the whole hypothetical shebang with Syd and Carmy at Kasama (the Tagalog WORD FOR TOGETHER) with the words,

"Did you mean to give me a fake number? You do know that I know your entire family [translation: she must know Donna too and Claire assumes that Carmy's folks approve of her - and she's proven to be technically right throughout Seasons 2 and 3 ], right? And I know ALL the Faks! [translation: tee hee! they're bigger than you - to quote Neil and Ted with their Uncle, "We Faks do have a particular shape, don't we?😇" - and they outnumber you, you scrawny punk, slay!😉✨]"

Claire then proceeds to playfully threaten to have said "massive numbered siblings" Faks, which includes Sammy Fak, played by John Cena (a professional wrestler, from an industry that is mixes both bawdy over the top theatre, a performance art that values Kayfabe (legerdemain/slight of hand anyone?) and comedy, and an athletic discipline) that is TALL. BUILT. HENCH. AND BUFF AF.....Claire 'playfully' threatens to have THESE FAKS, beat up Carmy, who is short in stature and cannot fight well from all the previous physical confrontations we've seen him be involved in, despite supposedly being a former high-school wrestler, and who has already been seriously physically abused thrice in the series run thus far (not counting him play fighting or trying to fight with Richie) after being JUMPED by a GROUP of assailants, not once, but TWICE in season one, by the Ballbreaker nerds in the pilot, and the Bachelor Party attendees in the season finale (the first season started and ended with Carmy being beaten tf up, Holy Shit! 🤯); AND AFTER BEING SLAPPED IN THE FACE IN SEASON 2 BY HIS OWN MOTHER, DONNA.

Notice the way Carmy goes from being lost in his thoughts but being completely relaxed after his menu planning session with Sydney, and in anticipation of seeing her on their would be inspiration seeking meet-up (definitely not a date, no Sir! 👀) at Kasama, to being tense and jittery and apprehensive when Claire calls him (after going behind his back and getting his number from Fak).

Notice the way Carmy's voice shakes when he asks Claire if she really knows all of the Faks.....

Notice Carmy's defeated and annoyed reaction after he hangs up the phone.

No wonder Carmy is being so avoidant and conflict averse in his handling of Claire in both Season Two and Three, he has absolutely no faith in himself or his loved ones at present to defend himself should he assert the type of boundaries he may have been desiring to have with them for these past two seasons, after all - who can he count on to fully have his back even to the point of physically intervening for him if he gets into a scrape or is genuinely attacked, by the Faks on account of Claire taking offense at or misrepresenting his words and actions to them, e.g. Claire apparently twisting Carmy's self loathing stream of consciousness confession (that she eavesdropped on) and telling Tiff that they broke up because Carmy said that "Claire will ruin everything good for him?" while he was trapped in the fridge?

What if Carmy knows he has to rip the band-aid and call Claire and apologize for his part in the superficiality and disintegration of their dalliance, but is afraid to do so because he knows in so doing, if he is being fully honest with himself and with Claire, he never truly wanted to be with her in the first place?

And who knows how Claire will take that revelation - it probably won't be pretty will it?

And.....

to quote Neil Fak,

"Claire's the best."

"We love Claire."

"I did that." [setting Carmy and Claire up in Pop)

And.....

Claire. knows. all. the. Faks.....

TL;DR

They cast John Cena as Sammy Fak, and the Faks had a lot of screen-time this season because they are the physical manifestation of being haunted in their family's sense of the word:

and a satirical visualization of Carmy's desire for Syd being cock-blocked ; plus Claire is a Love-able Alpha Bitch, and Carmy is ambivalent towards her, and even a little scared to face her, because her henchmen are the Faks!

If you enjoyed this post, then thank you for reading and I'd recommend that you check out the following meta on the way Christopher Storer and Company have seemingly (and controversially) committed to sticking to the bit of lying to the audience and breaking the fourth wall throughout this entire season:

Richie and the viewer - by @whenmemorydies with my add-on in the reblogs about Richie, not Carmy, potentially being Christopher Storer's author avatar in this series (from a post originally written before season 3 premiered.

Fourth Wall being broken - by @brokenwinebox and @thoughtfulchaos773

Claire being a possible representation of addiction, being a habit that is hard to kick - by @thoughtfulchaos773 and my and @devisrina 's add-on speculating that Claire may also be meant to be interpreted or revealed as a bit of a mean girl, to reference TVTropes, she (and by extension Season 3) may be a deconstruction/ mashup /send-up / subversion of the: Girl Next Door, the Cute Bookworm, Nerds Are Sexy, MPDG, Yandere, Alpha Bitch, Loveable Apha Bitch, Childhood Friend Romance, High-School Sweethearts, Sickeningly Sweethearts, Getting Crap Past The Radar, Freeze Frame Bonus, Parental Bonus, Viewers Are Geniuses, Give Geeks A Chance, Even Nerds Have Standards, Beauty Equals Goodness, Face-Heel Turn, Cerebus Syndrome tropes etc.....and a subtler mirror version of Donna Berzatto.

Edit: See my reblog add on to @espumado 's thread on the recurrent 'haunting' theme this season and the possibility of the Claire x Carmy x Sydney love triangle being a Lilith x Adam x Eve allegory, and my webweaving about Syd x Carmy's Adam and Eve parallels. sidenote: Lilith is Adam's first wife apocryphally and in Jewish mysticism that left him, and became a she-demon / mother of demons after being impregnated by the archangel Samael - wait is 'Sammy' Fak a Samael allegory?!!

and another reblog add-on of mine to the thread linked above - on The Faks as the living embodiment of all that is fake in Carmy's life, C Storer's handy dandy tools for slight of hand,

you can't spell fake without FAK.

and please see

Clairecarmy as Ann Veal x GOB from Arrested Development

and with Richie's frustrated refrain of, "Who cares?!" whenever Claire and Claire and Carmy's breakup is brought up in 3 -

see the running gag of George Michael Bluth's (from Arrested Development) family's disdain for Ann and his relationship with her.

5. The parallels between The Bear and Burnt by @ambeauty - a post Season 2 post which was proven to be prescient and insightful given the Easter Egg inclusion of Bradley Cooper's character from Burnt on the photo wall of chefs at Ever in the Funeral dinner in the finale.

6. The parallels between The Bear and Boiling Point - a gritty film and mini-series set in a restaurant which features several plot elements and characters reminiscent of certain character archetypes and subplots present in The Bear - seriously think of this IP as The Bear's cynical, dramatic, older British cousin.

Decision to leave by @anderwater

This anon that recommended Boiling Point to me and wrote about its connections to The Bear.

The difference between The Bear and Boiling Point by @theblvckvenus

The similarities between The Bear and Boiling Point in this reblog add-on to @happylikeasadsong et. al's thread.

7. Claire/Carmy and the Walk In - my old post on the parallels between Strange Days (1995), Can't Hardly Wait (1998, and The Bear.

and @ambeauty 's meta on Claire as a representation of the fridge

8. My post on the possible connection between The Bear Season 3 and Andrei Tarkovsky's experimental, semi-autobiographical, psychological Oedipal drama film The Mirror (1975) - a film which was incredibly divisive upon its initial release, but has since gained wide acclaim and re-evaluation as a masterpiece, and that has had a legacy of subsequently inspiring multiple renowned filmmakers.

9. The Bear series' lead actress, and the director of Napkins, one of the only episodes of The Bear Season 3 to receive almost universal acclaim - Ayo Edebiri's trollish sense of humour and assertion that lying is the pinnacle of comedy.

10. And last but certainly not least with the inclusion of a Genie Kwon*'s, of Kasama fame, cameo in the season finale and the prominence of Kasama being key to Syd and Carmy's stymied relationship progression, courtesy Claire, see

The Kasama of it all by @gingerylangylang1979

@mod-doodles @lunasink @vacationship @chansoooo1-blog

@bioloyg @msmoiraine @nerdyblerd @ripley-stark @uncriticalbunny @prowitchazel @msmoiraine @mswyrr @anxietycroissant @turbulenthandholding @tvfantic87 @laryssamedeirss @tejidaepoque @angelica4equity @inalltheirgorgeouscolors @houseofevangelista @glitterslag

@uncriticalbunny @imliterallyjustablackgirl

@bioloyg and @ambeauty please don't say I told you so or welcome back, I'm flabbergasted that I wrote this, but I want to believe! 😭

P.S. If you're still reading this, do yourself a favour and read @brokenwinebox 's post

New Paradigm

and this follow up

Mocktail is a dirty word

and check out her #the magic trick tag!

and also check out these Sydcarmy and Rosalind x Orlando from Shakespeare's As You Like It parallels:

The Bear as a pastoral comedy

First Meetings

Fumbling with your crush

Separation, keepsakes and lovesickness

and also C Storer really did tell us in the music that this season would inspire

Mixed Emotions 🥴

[genghisthebrain]

sure "wednesday addams is soft for enid sinclair" is a fun trope but have we considered "enid sinclair is hard for wednesday addams" which can either be interpreted as a smut prompt or as a version of enid that falls for wednesday wholeheartedly, knives and all, and falls headfirst into the life of crime that comes with being an addams (and wednesday is all too happy to teach her languages and karate and how to poison a man with kitchen items) and they're robbing a bank and the police are coming and wednesday says "i'm all out of moves, sinclair" and enid says "i'm not" and they lean in and they have their first kiss all lit up in blue light before charging down the policemen and starting a homoerotic car chase which eventually culminates in yet more kissing

what then

[damsel-loves-machines]

…so, anyone else ever watched the Extremely Goofy Movie as a kid?

If so, would you agree with me that Goofy and Sylvia totally give off Lucifer x Reader/OC vibes? Pining, lovable dorks who are into spontaneously dancing on the first date, dominating the previous social atmosphere with there appearance?

(Also, you CANNOT convince me that Lucifer wouldn’t rock Goofy’s look. 😩)

[jellyaibo]

i wanted to test out some fancy colored pencils & these micro pen thangs i got SOOOOOO random nonsense doodles be upon ye

[defokelore-13]

Always shocked that there aren't more snowcoin shippers because like.

Look at them!!!

In IDFB 1 (currently the only IDFB episode) Coiny says this when talking about who to free from the TLC

Coiny is one of the few characters that Snowball consistently likes and are often close to each other, although mostly just in BFDI and one scene of BFB

Tumblr only lets you add 10 images to a post which, smh homophobic, but I have like 80+ screenshots of these two together they are near each other a LOT in BFDI.

Why are you two doing that are you guys going to kiss? Gay boys

[radiance1]

A random au thought that I barely thunk up before splotching it on here.

So basically, Danny, Sam, and Trucker are doing some bullshit thing and somehow manage to create a whole ass world out of a tabletop game they were playing or something.

Basically DnD I guess.

But anyways, the three create this world so that they can play and do whatever they want. All three of them have legends about themselves from the npc's they's inhabited the world with.

Tucker is the Pharaoh of the night less desert, known as Duulaman. Freeing the citizens from the rule of the Tyrant god Abanoub and brought peace and prosperity to all across the land.

Sam is the Queen of Nature known as Terra, directly on par and sharing interests with Mother Nature. Her legend is that she freed the Forest of Vita and defeated a powerful void entity who sought to use the powers of Gaia to further its own ends for power. Joining forces with Mother Nature who almost fell to its corruption to end the void being once and for all.

Danny, known as Astraeus, unlike the other two, have two different aspects to his legend. Prince of the undead, and the constellation Star Child.

The first one as you should know, is basically Danny being the prince of ghosts, wherein in the world they made the ghosts (and extending too other undead), were disorderly and running rampant among the other races in the continuation of a war that should have longed ended. So, he rounded then all up and took control because the person who was originally supposed to be doing it was... indisposed.

(Cough, real reason is that Pariah Dark somehow got his ghostly hands on the world cords and was like "Hmmm, my son's world is awfully boring time to spice things up" and then shit happened.)

Which in turn, ended the eons long war between ghost kind and the other races.

Constellation Star Child is one he kind of got on accident, his friends made a joke about him being the spawn of death and time itself and being molded from a star. Which the npc's took seriously.

Also doesn't help that he goes out to explore the void and space around their world on numerous occasions to identify any threats that would require his attention (Which is literally just an excuse so he can go and explore space to his hearts content.). And whenever he comes back, it's like a shooting star falling down to earth.

So, after they've done all of their adventures and when it was time for them to just scrap this world and move on. They just, couldn't.

This world grew extremely on them during their time in it (Despite the unexpected inclusion of Pariah Dark), and they just didn't want to destroy it so they just, stayed.

Not like stay stay, more so they come back to it a lot more than they should. Fermenting themselves as these deities or god-like beings who protect and care for their followers or something.

They created a space for the three of them to converse, known simply as the council. A realm sitting on the plane of reality between the world and the void, basically heaven but not really heaven?

Anyways.

So, continuing on with this, the trio splits apart, a feud in reality carrying into their game world that caused Danny to just leave and explore the calmness of the cosmos so he can clear his head.

Sam went to Mother Nature to talk about it and seek aid about the recent crack in three's friendship.

Tucker just went to take care of his kingdom and confide in one of his trusted advisors, much like Sam.

This is when something unexpected happened. Danny never came back to that world, not as if he went back to his reality.

He just never came back.

Something is keeping him from going back, some powerful threat that he's keeping at bay with all of his might while out in the endless nothingness that is the void.

With the absence of his presence, a powerful void creature who managed to slip between the cracks of Danny's notice suddenly sees he's not there anymore for an extended period of time and has its sights on the core of the world, Gaia, and the two goddesses protecting it. Mother Nature and the Queen of Nature.

To distract the one known as the Pharoah, it managed to find what remained of Abanoub and gave him some of its power to combat Duulaman.

Abanoub worked behind the scenes, slowly rising back to his prime state of power and with the added power of the void entity, he managed to corrupt the roots of Duulaman's kingdom and sow discord.

Unfortunately for Abanoub, it couldn't exactly kill Duulaman, so it instead caught him by surprise and put him into eternal slumber.

The void entity who named itself Akasa, just like the previous one. Sought to use Gaia as a power source, but not just the core, but the two goddesses as well.

And with Duulaman and the Star Child of death out of the way, it was free to do so however it wished, though not to say it wasn't extremely careful when it enacted this plan.

Sam didn't know that Tucker was sent into eternal slumber, nor that Danny was never going to come back as soon as she hoped he would. So, when she went to the council and found that she was the only one there, she knew something was wrong.

Mother Nature was attacked while she was on a different plane, with such a coordinated attack on both her and Gaia by Akasa, Abanoub's army, and a recent addition, Chiwa the undead duchess' pawns. She unfortunately fell and became nothing more than power source.

Sam tried, oh she tried. But in the end, after a drawn out battle between her, Akasa, Abanoub, and Chiwa. She fell as well, with the added power Akasa gained from Gaia and Mother Nature, now with the added source of the Queen of nature. He was basically unstoppable.

That didn't mean all hope was lost, with the last bit of her power, she managed to seal all three of them to specific areas.

Abanoub, the Night less Desert. More specifically Tucker's throne.

Akasa, the realm between the world and the void. The council.

Chiwa, the blood lake of the eternal lady.

Their forces were still at large however, with the ghosts under Chiwa's command wishing to continue the war from eons ago. Abanoub's armies spreading across the world to take over their various kingdoms and be forced under his rule.

All two wished to free their master's, who in turn promised to free Akasa when they were free as well.

The rest of the races didn't take this laying down at all, immediately going to war and managing to hold their ground relatively well.

Both sides were at a standstill, with Abanoub, Chiwa and Akasa sealed they lost a signifcant portion of power.

Whereas with the Star Child gone, the Queen of Nature captured, and the Pharaoh of the Night less Desert sleeping, they couldn't push forward no matter how hard they tried.

So, what did they do?

They came together and summoned people from another world of course!

And who did they summon?

The Justice League.

[ukuslip]

i know im an icebooker but i'll always be a multishipper deep down. anyways this one's specifically kind of funny to me because it's just book having a one-sided crush on another water-based contestant so it's sort of icebook coded if you don't think about ti that much

[neyswxrld]

caught in a crosshair

Crosshair x reader (gn)

summary: Snowball fight with Crosshair.

warnings: slightly suggestive at the end, reader gets pinned down, snow shower; 18+

word count: ~660

advent calendar masterlist

a/n: this is the fifth fic for my advent calendar! just as i took a small break from correcting this small fic to pick up my brother, he decided to throw a snowball at me. how fitting.

p.s. english isn't my mother tongue, sorry for misspellings! 

You should have known better.

You should have known better than tossing a stupid snowball on his back.

But well, how should you know that the elite soldier and perfect sniper who was literally named Crosshair not only shoots his targets precisely but can also throw and never miss?

Needless to say  that he immediately bent down to take revenge when you hit him with the frozen ball.

What you didn't expect was him having fun throwing snow at you and not stopping at one ball.

One ball suddenly turned into two, two turned into three, and three turned into a whole snowball fight quickly.

Lucky for you, Crosshair is kind enough not to aim for your face, but in the end, it doesn't really matter. When you are able to throw one ball and don't even hit him with it, he throws at least two.

You were covered in white faster than you could count to ten, and as time went by, you got more and more desperate. You needed to do something, or you would never hear the end of it.

The next time he throws a ball at you, you duck just right, so it hits your face. You yelp and throw your weight behind you, falling into the snow that feathers your fall a little bit. "Ouch," you whine over-dramatically, holding your cold hand to your face.

You hear Crosshair sprinting towards you as soon as he hits your face, and he is next to you just a second later.

"You okay?" he asks, worried.

Instead of answering, you start grinning. In the exact moment, understanding crosses his features, your hand, filled with snow, already flies up to his neck.

"That is not fair!" He tries to shake you off, but you hold on to him like your life depends on it.

But as always, Crosshair is just unpredictable. He uses your tight grip to his advantage and easily pins you down with his weight, catching your hands between you. While you can't move yours, his hands have all the freedom they need to just grab the snow around you and shove it down your shirt.

"Oh, cold, cold! Stop it, stop it!" you yell, laughing, and try to push him off you. You don't stand a chance.

The snow is cold and wet, and you can already feel yourself starting to shake. "Cross-," you keep giggling and squirming, but you can't gain any control.

After a few minutes, he stops and looks you in the eyes with a raised brow.

"Had enough?" he questions. You nod in an instant. "Yes, yes. Please let me go," you almost beg, but you still have to chuckle in between your words.

"It's always the same. Can dish but can't take it," he mumbles, playfulness in his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. You just have to go over the top all the time," you smile back, but he just raises his other eyebrow, too.

"I'm just defending myself," he states, starting to climb off of you, reaching out with his hand at the same time to help you up.

Both of you start to brush the snow off your clothes, but wet stains still stay. Your teeth start to chatter. Hugging yourself, you turn around to Crosshair, who seems to be fine.

"We should go home, I'm freezing," you tell him. He nods once, lays an arm around you, and you start your short way back home.

This time, you aren't interrupted by snowball fights or snow showers. Instead, you enjoy the quiet (well, the quiet that was left after your chattering teeth) and your closeness.

Back at home, both of you decide that a bath would help warm you up the fastest.

You fill the bath tub with hot water and bubbling soap, light some candles, and let the evening fade out with soft touches and sweet kisses that fill you with warmth even faster than the water ever could.

TAGLIST:

@isthereanechoinhere96

[ysaona]

I need him. I need him. I need him..!! I NEED HIM!!!!! I NEED HIM. I need him!<333!!! I NEED HIM YOU’RE HONOR.

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

roman and gerri in season four, a summary--

4.03:

roman: hi :) gerri: NO

later

gerri: hi :) / :'( roman: NO

later

roman: hi :) / :'( gerri: NO

4.04:

gerri: hi :) roman: NO

4.05: gerri: hi :) roman: NO

4.06: gerri: NO roman: NO

4.07: roman: hi :) gerri: NO

4.08: (gerri not present; roman rebounds, destroys democracy)

4.09 (deleted): gerri: hi :) roman: hi :) roman: wait roman: NO

4.10: roman to onscreen gerri: hi :) roman to irl gerri: NO gerri: 👀

[wheels-of-despair]

Draw Me Like One of Your Dwarf Girls, Eddie Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie decides to work on his drawing skills, and accidentally awakens a monster in the process. Contains: Titanic references, female nudity, a brush with death. Word Count: 1.3k-ish

"Draw me like one of your dwarf girls, Eddie," you say in a sultry voice, trying your hardest not to laugh.

"What did I tell you about talking?" He pauses to give you a pointed look, since he's already told you to pipe down several times. You roll your eyes, and he returns to his drawing with a renewed vigor.

It's early 1998, and you've recently dragged your poor Eddie to a theater to see that damn Titanic movie everybody and their mother keeps raging about. All 3 hours of it. You may have neglected to mention the runtime when you bought the tickets. You owe him.

He survived, but was suddenly faced with the desire to "work on his people-sketching skills." Which of course meant it took him less than a week to convince you to strip and pose like Rose on the couch, wearing only that red guitar pick necklace he's had since high school.

You're stretched out and exposed and already bored. Two hours ago, he'd adjusted your hand a quarter of an inch this way, your knee a quarter of an inch that way, and you'd been instructed not to move.

Well, it felt like two hours, but it was really only about 30 minutes.

With nothing else to do, and being mildly disappointed that he didn't find your commentary amusing, you watch his eyes follow the pencil scratching across the paper you can't see. He's cute when he's concentrating. Tongue poking out, brow furrowed, that spark of creativity in his eye. It must be going well, because he smiles occasionally. He even giggled once. If you had to guess, you'd say it probably had something to do with a nipple. It was a little chilly.

"Just as I thought; it's a masterpiece."

"Are you done?" You'd only been in this position for an eternity.

"Oh yeah, this baby's getting framed." Ignoring you, he holds his sketch pad out to view it at an arm's length, beaming at his creation.

"Can I move now?!"

"Yeah, you can move."

You stretch your stiff limbs and get up off the couch, reaching for the flannel he'd discarded on a chair nearby, buttoning a few buttons as you pad over to where he sat admiring his work.

You place a hand on his back and look over his shoulder at the figure on his sketchbook. You're confused, but you can't take your eyes off of it. You can't think of anything to say. Until…

"What. The FUCK. Is THAT."

He looks up innocently and says, "What? I was just following instructions. You kept talking, figured I better listen."

You have no words.

You do, however, have a fucking BEARD in Eddie's drawing.

He sits there, looking up at you with a proud grin on his face, waiting for you to react.

You stare at him wordlessly, still in a state of shock.

Until he laughs at you. LAUGHS AT YOU.

Your brain begins to swirl furiously, until it flashes one word: KILL.

You clench your fists, and he begins to sense that you're not going to start laughing with him. His eyes widen, and he jumps out of his chair, vaults over the coffee table, and stands on the couch.

"I can explain," he says quickly, trying to sound calm, steps unsteady on the cushions.

You can explain too. Explain to the responding officers how one Edward James Munson met his gruesome demise.

"It's Tolkien."

You ignore him and advance slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. Eyes unblinking. Blood boiling. Steam probably coming out of your ears. He jumps off the couch as you approach the coffee table.

"It's from a book!" He's walking backward, holding out his sketch pad like a lion tamer with a chair.

His eyes bulge as he hits something solid. You've backed him into a corner. Literally.

"Tolkien! Middle-earth! The Hobbit! Nerd shit!"

Nerd shit won't save you now, Munson. You narrow your eyes and prepare to go in for the kill. He panics.

"Dwarf women have beards! It was a joke! I'm sorry! I love you!"

The "I love you" makes you pause, just as you were about to pounce and slash your prey to pieces. The hell?

"What?" you ask, giving your head a slight shake in confusion.

"Dwarf women have beards. In the books. You said to draw you like a dwarf. It was a joke. I thought you'd know what it was."

"You thought I'd know some random detail from a book I haven't read in over a decade?"

"I mean, it's a pretty memorable detail…"

You roll your eyes, heave a sigh, and pinch the bridge of your nose. Why is this not surprising?

"So you're not gonna kill me?" He's still backed into his corner. You consider it for a moment, deciding that you've played with him enough for today.

"Not tonight, Munson."

He exhales and leans his head back against the wall.

"But I WILL get you for this," you threaten, pointing a finger at him. He nods, used to this constant back-and-forth game you'd both been playing for over a decade. He knew you'd never really hurt him, just like you knew he wouldn't hurt you either. It was just a game.

You turn to walk away, and hear him whisper to the abomination he's still clutching: "Don't worry baby, you're still gettin' framed."

You whip around, eyes flashing. He gulps. You step closer, making him lean further back into the wall. He's cute when he's scared.

"Give it."

He stares at you with those big, beautiful brown eyes of his.

"Give it," you repeat, holding out a hand and waiting for him to place his sketchbook into it.

Reluctantly, he hands it to you. You maintain eye contact as your fingers find the thick cover page, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of looking at his ungodly creation again. You slam it shut and he flinches.

"What are you gonna do with it?"

Beat your nerdy ass to death with it.

Still clutching his sketch pad, you step back silently and gesture for him to walk on by with your free hand. He slowly peels himself off the wall and begins to move with an apprehensive look in your direction, and a thought occurs to you.

As he scurries past you, you smack him on the ass with his sketchbook. He whirls around with a yelp, hands clutching his cheeks. It's cardboard, you drama queen. You step closer and swing the book at his arm.

"You made me lay there for AN HOUR! While! You! Drew! That!" You punctuate each word with another smack of the sketch pad. He continues overreacting to each hit and falls to the floor with a wail when you finish yelling, clutching his imaginary wounds. You lift the book above your head with both hands, ready to finish him.

"It started out real! But I couldn't make it look like you! It wasn't pretty enough!" You graciously decide to let him continue, still holding the sketchbook in an attack position, just in case. "I tried," he explains calmly now, "but it wasn't working out, and then you said the dwarf thing, and I thought it would be funny. I'll make it up to you."

"Damn right, you will." You lower the book and release it. It lands on his chest with a light thud. He grins from his position on the floor. You step over him and make your way toward the bedroom.

"Starting now," you inform him from the hallway, not slowing or turning around. You hear him scramble to get up, knock something over, and curse before he hurries in your direction.

He's lucky he's cute.

[sour-screaminginagony]

felt like drawing some oc x canon

guess who usb's favourite object show character is also here's Snowball!! they're not dating in the oc blog because idk but anyway :3 I kinda want to draw them more I love my oc and I love snowball

[lispenardst]

fellow travelers | see you soon - beabadoobee

watch on youtube here 📺

[starchasersunseeker]

From Reggie throwing a snowball at Jamie and saying "don't ignore me" to him YEARS later throwing it at him again, at his husband, saying "dont ignore us", to not ignore him and their kids

*"You walked by like we weren't even here," Regulus calls out, eyebrows raised. "Don't ignore us."*

Crimson rivers did in fact shatter my heart and stich it back together several times

The snowball reference coming back in the last chapter is just>>>>>>

[pettyprocrastination]

Idle Hands

Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader

My secret Santa gift for the ever lovely @floralpascal I do hope this follows your prompt well and that you enjoy it! Big thank you to @humanransome-note for being my editor+beta reader on this one at like 1 am lol. Also a huge thank you to @pedrostories for putting together this amazing event to begin with!!! <3

Summary: Frankie goes to you when he needs his clothes altered and each time has a revelation each time he sees you work. 

Warnings: fluff, light self doubt, lots of talk about hands I just really like hands okay. Friends to lovers babeyyyy

word count: 1.2k

________

     Frankie’s clothes never fit him right. 

     The sleeves of shirts hung just a touch too long on him, but going a size under meant they’d squeeze around the bulk of his shoulders in a way that made him worry it would tear (it did. On a first date, it was very embarrassing for him). Trousers either gaped at his waist or had to be rolled up at the cuff because they were made for somebody taller, not wider to properly fit his legs. 

     But he didn’t complain, it gave him a reason to see you. 

     “It’s because clothes used to be made for the body specifically.” You told him, needle in hand as you sat at a table and pushed it through the cuff of his pants. “Everything was tailor made to your measurements, but nowadays we just buy off the rack and hope it fits right.” 

     “Or we take it to our incredibly talented friend who hems our pants in return for dinner?” 

     Sometimes he hopes they don’t fit right, just so he can see you smile. 

     “Yeah, that’s always an option too.” 

     His mother has always told him that love was found in one’s hands. Holding the door open, taking their hand in yours when you crossed the street, the gentle cradling of their face when leaning in for a gentle kiss, it was everything. Small testimonies of love and care found in everyday moments that took root in the palms of a lover. 

     But Francisco's hands were scarred. His fingers were calloused from hard labor and would tremble until he curled them into fists and willed them to stop. They sweat horribly when he would get nervous, leading to him shoving his hands in his pockets and praying you never noticed. 

     If you did, you said nothing of it. 

     But his hands weren’t good for nothing, despite the fact he considered them too rough for handling gentle things like you and the way his fingers fumbled with his keys, he was still skilled. 

     It was his hands that put in the new lock on your door after a series of break-ins took place in your neighborhood. The same fingers that fumbled with your birthday present are nimble and quick with the screwdriver in hand as he reassures you that it’ll be alright. They're the same ones that held you the night you got stood up for a date and wiped the tears from your face as he told you any man who can’t show up for you isn’t worth your fucking time. The same hand that settles on the small of your back each time you walk through a crowd together, the gentle reminder of his presence when you felt everything else closing in. 

     I’m here. You're safe. 

     “These are new.”      “I’m sorry?” 

     You lift your head from your work table and hold up the pair of slacks in your hand he had brought for you to hem. All black with a fine finish, something you’d wear to a wedding. 

     The same pair he stared at in the store for fifteen minutes before finally biting the bullet.

     “The pants, I’ve never seen you wear them before.” 

     His hands curl, thumb pressing against the flat of his pointing finger until he hears a soft “pop” from the joint and moves to the next in hopes to keep his mind off the fact that your thumb is running along the inseam of one pant leg, a gentle back and forth, back and forth, that he’s not sure you even know you're doing it, but it's enough to make his lungs feel tight and head full of cotton. 

     “Right, they're uh, they're new.” 

     Middle finger. 

     Pop. 

     Ring finger. 

     Pop. 

     Pinkie. 

     Pop. 

     “They're real nice.” 

     “You think so?” 

     “You’ll look real sharp in those, Frankie. You got something special coming up?” You look beautiful. Your eyes are focused on your hands that weave the needle in and out of the fabric with such ease it reminds him of a conductor. There's something about it. The way your arm moves up and down, the gentle flick of your wrist when it pulls the needle through. Each separate movement that melts into one another like a connected dance. Maybe Frankie was just reading too much into it. Maybe it had just been far too fucking long since he went on a date and he was so starved he got to the point of romanticizing tailoring. Maybe he just really liked your hands. 

     Maybe, he just really liked you. 

     “Nothing in particular.” 

     You snip the end of the thread, tying it with quick flitting fingers before smiling at him over your shoulder. 

     “Well let me know when you do, I’d like to see you get all fancy.” 

     He scratches at the back of his neck. 

     “You just want a reason to get me out of my work clothes.” 

     There's a moment in every hug from Francisco Morales. From the moment you first met him to years later you can name it down to the very second it happens. A split second before he pulls away from you where his hand settles on your waist and curls in ever so slightly, squeezing you to his chest so softly that by the time you notice he’s already pulling away and telling you “have a good one.”

     It’s the moment you want to continue. For his hands to stay on your waist and keep him flush to your chest, where you’d finally find the bravery to mumble out those words you’ve kept locked away for the past four years because you don’t know what you’d do after there or. Or what he’d do. Christ, you don’t want to imagine it. 

     So instead you bite your tongue. You hold back the confession that’s been nested in the crevice of your ribs since you first met him and savor the feeling of his hands on your waist and the little “mmm.” he does every time you give him a hug that just makes you feel lightheaded.

     He’s halfway down the driveway when he stops in his tracks. Snipping something under his breath to himself before turning on his heel and pointing at you. 

     “Are you uh, are you free? This Friday?” 

     His hands were shaking. 

     “Yeah. Yeah, I’m free.” 

    So were yours. 

     “I was thinking we could get dinner. It’ll give me a reason to wear these, you know?”  He holds up the pair of pants in his hands and smiles. “Plus, I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a long time. I only have so many clothes for you to fix.” 

     Francisco learned that his hands were full of love. 

     His hands could pull out your chair, pour you wine with a steady grasp. They’ll gesture during conversation that seemed to last for hours and drape his coat around your shoulders in the night air.  Cradle your face when he kissed you goodnight and grip your waist when you pulled him in for another. They could hold you together and pull you apart all in the same night. 

     You saw the trembles in his fingertips without shame. Your lips pressed kiss after kiss to the rough skin of his palm without flinching and wrapped your hands with his each time you saw the world closing in on him, refusing to let go or be pushed away. 

     You saw his hands for what they were. An extension of the man they belonged to. One with scars and tremors that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he tried to hide them. 

     But you held him nonetheless.

[defokelore-13]

oh yea art from twitter that i dont think i've posted here ? (i havent posted the treefan one there yet either tbh i drew it for a mutual) dont comment on how tall i accidentally made tree </3