Tumgik
#fussbudget
memory-echo · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Lucy works very hard at being a bitter fussbudget. She's the only one getting discouraged, though. Keep it up, Charlie Brown! 💪
26 notes · View notes
demon-sterrr · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
those beachside tourist shops sell some interesting shirts
* insp under the cut 👇
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
14 notes · View notes
e-louise-bates · 9 months
Text
Here we are. I always blow my horn here; the wall and the trees make it so very dangerous ... Here is the Rectory--just opposite the church. I always blow my horn at the gate for fear anybody should be about. Ah! Safely negotiated ... I always blow my horn at the door, so as to tell my wife I am back.
-Dorothy L. Sayers, The Nine Tailors
The route the kids and I rode our bicycles along once a week to our homeschool co-op while living in Cambridge had several unexpected sharp curves along it, and eventually I got into the habit of ringing my bicycle bell as I approached each of them just in case any cyclists were approaching from the other direction. Every time I would think of this bit from Nine Tailors and laugh at myself. Re-reading the book this morning I came across this passage and laughed again.
At least I never rang my bell back at the flat to let my husband know I was back safely--though I might have, if I'd thought of it.
8 notes · View notes
rainbowfic · 1 month
Text
But there was a period of friction, when “hello” was spreading beyond its summoning origins to become a general-purpose greeting, and not everyone was a fan. I was reminded of this when watching a scene in the BBC television series Call the Midwife, set in the late 1950s and early 1960s, where a younger midwife greets an older one with a cheerful “Hello!” “When I was in training,” sniffs the older character, “we were always taught to say ‘good morning,’ ‘good afternoon,’ or ‘good evening.’ ‘Hello’ would not have been permitted.” To the younger character, “hello” has firmly crossed the line into a phatic greeting. But to the older character, or perhaps more accurately to her instructors as a young nurse, “hello” still retains an impertinent whiff of summoning. Etiquette books as late as the 1940s were still advising against “hello,” but in the mouth of a character from the 1960s, being anti-hello is intended to make her look like a fussbudget, especially playing for an audience of the future who’s forgotten that anyone ever objected to “hello.”
Because Internet, Gretchen McCulloch
817 notes · View notes
sports-on-sundays · 5 months
Note
Hello! Can you maybe write a clumsy reader x Lando Norris or Charles Leclerc??
Like how he gets worried about how she always gets injured such as accidentally burning herself or accidentally dropping a glass.
accident prone / CL16
Summary: Charles x clumsy!girlfriend!reader - Charles is usually pretty cool, but when it comes to you, he can be just a bit of a fussbudget. Who can blame him, though? You yourself have kind of got your head in the clouds most of the time.
Warnings: wrote this one in past tense because I felt like it, censored swearing, this one is honestly just really silly, blood, Charles being very protective
Requested?: Uh huh!
Author's Note: Thanks for another request. :)
Really, you were the paddock's big joke. And you didn't mind at all. Being Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, you hung around a lot. Especially since your boyfriend practically begged you to come to nearly every single Grand Prix. So, yeah. You were around a lot.
Which was why you were kind of the paddock's big joke. It wasn't like you were trying to be. It was like the way you were. Carlos told you that you were bringing it upon yourself. Maybe so, but you weren't trying to. It was just one too many clips of you tripping on air, walking into walls, dropping important things you were holding for someone, and the like. One time you were having a conversation with a few of the guys (because although obviously Charles was your man, you got along well with the other drivers) and when Max happened to say something particularly humorous, you sprayed the coffee you had been drinking out of your nose at the same time as dropping it. It splashed onto Lando's shoe. He, who was pretty annoyed (understandably so) had said something like, in a rather teasing, lighthearted tone, regardless, "My God, f*ck you, Y/n! My shoe! You're such a klutz!"
To that, you had stuck your tongue out at him and countered, "You're being over dramatic, rich boy! It's not like you can't easily buy yourself a new pair!"
While you admittedly were certainly pretty clumsy, you had a sharp mind. Still, you were humble enough to not mind being the grid's laughingstock. Everyone understood it was lighthearted.
Well, not everyone. There was one person who seemed to have issues with the whole thing. And it was your own boyfriend. Charles.
Referring to the story of spilling coffee on Lando's shoe again- as soon as you had finished with your comeback, suddenly Charles was next to you with his arm around your shoulder. He had been- well, not around. But somehow he must have heard and rushed to your side, because the look he had given Lando was honestly priceless as he asked the younger man, concerned, "What the hell did she do to make you say that to her?" He sounded so offended- more offended than you were yourself.
Lando had looked honestly nervous. "Max made her laugh so she spilled coffee on my shoe!"
"Mate, you're blaming it on me?" was Max's reaction, before looking at the imaginary watch on his wrist and saying, "Look at the time! Got to go."
"You know, just so happens, me too!" was what Lando said with a giggle, and the two had gone off. You were sure that as the two walked away together, they made fun of Charles and his little ways. But Charles wouldn't have minded. Because the only time Charles got defensive was when someone was bothering you.
Now, though, you were away from the paddock and racing. Now you were at home, thinking about all this as you smiled to yourself, standing next to the stove, waiting for the water for tea to boil. Charles was still in bed and had had an exhausting last weeks, so you thought he might like a little breakfast when he finally stirred.
Suddenly the tea kettle started squealing, and you quickly grabbed the it, hoping not to wake up your boyfriend in the other room. You started pouring the water in Charles' mug, and swore loudly when your hand bumped the kettle. You groaned. That's gonna leave a burn. You finished pouring the boiling water and ran your hand under lukewarm water as it steeped. You sighed, shaking your head, and very carefully, with shaky hands, put two pieces of bread in the toaster. Then you grabbed a glass and the orange juice from the fridge, but just as you were about to pour it, your hip bumped the counter and the glass slipped right out of your hand, shattering on the floor with a loud crash that made you flinch and grit your teeth. "For f*ck's sake!" you snapped, unable to hold it back. You sighed, reaching for the broom, but just then, a sleepy, disoriented Charles entered the room, with furrowed eyebrows and squinted eyes, still shirtless and wearing pajama pants. "Careful, love," you murmured. "Broken glass."
"Hmmm," he yawned, rubbing his eye. "What's going on? You okay, baby?"
"Yeah, I am," you started, starting to step around the glass pile to Charles, but wobbled and lost your balance, about to fall but- Charles, even having just woken up, caught you with a little chuckle. He helped you steady yourself and you sighed, shaking your head as you met him. "Anyway, yeah. I'm fine. I was... I feel bad. I was trying to make you some surprise breakfast, but... Clearly, I woke you up."
"Oh..." he smiled, naturally pulling you to him. "That's sweet..." Suddenly though, he saw your hand, and his brow grew concerned. He took your burnt hand, holding it up. "What's this?"
"Oh, uh," you giggled, glancing away. "Tea kettle."
"Hm. Looks like you had quite the-"
Suddenly you squeaked and flinched as the toaster popped behind you. You then broke out into laughing at yourself at being so frightened, and Charles teased, grabbing the broom, "Good thing you weren't holding a glass this time, huh? Babe, I really appreciate all this, really. But I'll clean up the glass and everything, and then I'll take my breakfast. Thanks, love."
You nodded, slowly leaving the kitchen, honestly feeling kind of bad. Really bad. You were trying to do something nice, and now he was in there, cleaning up your mess. No matter how many times he always told you it was okay, you were never fully convinced. Doesn't he get tired of me and my stupid little mistakes? Doesn't he get tired of always walking behind me and picking up the mess I leave?
When he came into the dining room with his breakfast, he thanked you wholeheartedly, gave you a damp cool rag for your burn, and got eating.
"Whoa, lovely, watch out," Charles said, suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to him, making you stumble a bit.
"What was that for, hm?" you frowned.
He smiled and somehow managed to say in the kindest way possible, "You were so busy looking up at the beautiful blue sky, you almost ran straight into that wall. What'cha daydreaming about?"
"Hmmm..." you glanced to his eyes, which in the bright lighting reflected just a slightly more grey version of the sky above. "You." You winked.
"How sweet," he smiled, gesturing to the Ferrari garage. Yes, you really were about to just walk right past it. Neither of you mentioned it, of course. As he left for his duties, though, he gave you a little wink and said, "Those high-heels are lovely, by the way. Just be careful." You clicked your tongue, but you knew he was right. Last time you wore heels at a Grand Prix, you ended up tripping over them and scraping both your knees. Charles had worriedly asked 'Are you alright?' so many times someone could have assumed you had just had a seizure or something instead of just tripping and falling. You had reassured him, as blood dripped down your legs, that you were just fine. He had rushed you back inside and made sure your legs got fixed up. For the rest of the weekend, you had hobbled around in sneakers and barely bent your legs because it hurt to bend the skin on your knees. It pretty much sucked, and fans on social media made fun of you almost as much as the other drivers on the grid, but you hadn't minded. The worst part was the pain- being made fun of was just fine. But of course it didn't go on for long, because Charles took whatever avenues that were necessary to put an end to people making fun of his girlfriend like that.
Charles had said after that whole thing something like, 'Y/n, you need to be more careful! You can't worry me like that, love!' which you found humorous, considering that over twenty weekends a year he went into basically a rocket ship and raced a bunch of other guys in other rocket ships, and made you worry sick. Either way, that was really the weekend when Charles' whole anxiety over your little accidents really started.
Before qualifying today, though, you made sure to catch Charles and give him a kiss, saying, "Don't crash."
He smiled gracefully and said back, "I won't. You don't crash, either, though."
You rolled your eyes with a little smile, gave him another kiss on the cheek, and he was off.
"Charlie! Nice job, dude!" you congratulated your boyfriend. You gave him a high five, and he gave you a hug. "Starting in a great position for tomorrow, love. Congrats!"
He chuckled. "Thanks, Y/n. I'm gonna go change. Be right back."
You nodded, and Charles walked off, but got caught in a conversation. When Carlos strolled in, you went to congratulate him as well, but of course.
You could feel it in slow motion. You foot getting caught, your other foot stepping forward, the force of gravity pulling you down, down-
You suddenly squealed though when unfamiliar arms caught you. After a second of disorientation, you realized it had been Carlos, who was now saying, "Holy sh*t, Y/n. You could've cracked your skull. Every day life with you is more dangerous than the life of being a Formula One driv-"
Suddenly, though, Mr. Protect Y/n At All Costs (Charles Leclerc), grabbed your hand, pulling you to him, away from Carlos, and said, "What the hell, you okay?"
"Uh, yeah," you said, honestly just embarrassed, glancing to Carlos.
"Sorry, Charles, I didn't want her to crack her skull," Carlos said after Charles sent him a nasty look. "You should be thanking me." Carlos gave his teammate a playful shove on the shoulder and walked away.
"Why don't you sit down and wait for me?" was Charles' suggestion.
"Right."
That night as you drove to the hotel, went inside, got ready for bed, and had a little snack, you didn't speak a word to Charles, and anytime he tried to talk, you didn't have much to say back to him.
Finally, as you finished your little snack, Charles sat down next to you, taking both your hands in his, saying gently and completely seriously, "Y/n, clearly something is wrong. Please know that you can tell me. Was it something that happened today? Did someone bother you? Was it what happened with Carlos?"
"No, no, Charles, they're fine," you murmured, sipping your water. "What Carlos did is fine, too. Good." You tried to show a little lighthearted smile, but maybe it just came off as seeming sarcastic as you said, "I mean, thank God for Carlos. Otherwise I might be in the hospital with a cracked open head, right?"
Charles, as expected, didn't buy it, and took your hands in both of his, saying earnestly with big, worried eyes, "You can tell me what's bothering you, Y/n. I want to help you."
Your jaw clenched as you murmured, "That's just it, Charles. That's the problem."
"What is?" he asked, looking so seriously and utterly confused, it might have been funny if it had been in another situation. "That I want to help you?!"
"No," you shook your head, looking down. "That I need your help. I feel so bad. I'm always messing things up- breaking stuff, hurting myself, being all jumpy. And along with everything else you have to worry about, you feel like you need to worry about me, too. You're just always there, looking out for me and fixing all my dumb mistakes. It's so stupid- but my clumsiness is actually becoming a problem. I don't even care if drivers or the internet make fun of me. It's just, like... you're so protective of me and it's because I can't stay on my two own f*cking feet. I mean, that must be so hard for you- don't you get exasperated with me? I mean I'm fine on my own. But oh my God, I feel like a little kid! You had to tell me not to run into a f*cking wall! A wall! I don't know, Charles... Aren't you sick of me? Aren't I a burden to you?"
The look Charles gave you was probably a mixture of confusion, sympathy, love, and exasperation. Which was a very strange mix, for a very strange expression, before he said, "You aren't a burden to me at all, Y/n... Babe, I love helping you. And, okay, we all have those days when there's a lot on our minds and we do stupid things. You make it seem like everyday there's another thing. There's not. Maybe three times a week you do something a little silly. But I know you. When you're nervous, your head is kind of in the clouds, and you trip up. Literally. On race weekends, you do. And the other thing you always do..." He hesitated, before getting more serious, saying quieter, "Sometimes I think you try so hard to please me, and you get nervous."
You stare, eyes wide. Because you hadn't even realized it, but he was right.
"You don't have to worry about that," he continued gently. "You already please me, without trying. Because I love you and you're gorgeous. You're right that you can take care of yourself, but I like being there for you. I like helping you out, okay?" He leaned in and gently planted a kiss on your cheek. "Besides, I think you being a little accident prone is cute."
"Accident prone and cute, huh?" You looked up, a soft smile appearing on your face and a little giggle in your voice as you leaned closer to him, relief rushing though you, and giving him a cheek kiss back. "I like that."
602 notes · View notes
esther-dot · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
A Besotted Fool 1k by @sibyldisobedience
He scrubbed his hand down his face and found his attention drawn to the fluttering lace in one of the upper windows of the house. Suddenly there she was, his radiant girl; a soft, inscrutable expression gracing her lovely features. She nodded to him with a stately little dip of her chin, and he waved back at her, like some kind of overly eager green boy. He cringed inwardly and cursed himself for a fool. A pathetic, besotted fool.
Aunt Lysa Settles the Question 5k by @sibyldisobedience
"But tell me now child, and be quick about it, who is this young man and what reason does he have to be alone with you in the parlour?” Sansa bristled at being called ‘child’, she was seventeen and had just received her first proposal of marriage for goodness sake! She turned to Mr. Snow, the poor man looked as though he wished the floor might open up and swallow him whole. “This is Father’s friend, Mr. Jon Snow.” “Snow? What Snow? Do you mean that boy’s tutor?” Lysa looked Jon up and down, and grimaced. She then turned the full force of her ire on Sansa, who could only wring her hands. “And what pray tell has Father’s friend been saying to make you look like a peony?” Before Sansa could begin to think of what to say in reply, for it really wasn’t any of the old fussbudget’s business, Jon cleared his throat.
Married Life 10k by @sibyldisobedience
Sansa and Jon settled into married life very easily. The Dovecote was small, to be sure, less than a third of the size of Winterfell, but the lovers relished their proximity to one another. How wonderful it was to be so close — in constant contact — when during their three year engagement, they had been apart longer than they had been together. After one entire week of blissful seclusion, the couple had to concede that they could not live on love alone. So Jon returned to work, and some gentle ribbing from his co-workers, and Sansa took up her housewifely duties.  As the young couple established a routine, they found that even after a few months, once the initial novelty of “playing house” had worn off, they were just as blissfully happy as they had been that first week. Sansa was as breathtakingly lovely as ever in her faded wrapper, beaming at him from behind the familiar coffee pot. And Jon’s deep Northern brogue never failed to send shivers down her spine, even when he was simply following up his parting kiss with the tender inquiry, "Shall I send home mutton or beef for dinner tonight?" 
(the above are all in the 14 part series Little Women of Winterfell)
marriage is an economic proposition 3k
Sansa meets her childhood friend Jon Targaryen while traveling with Aunt Lysa in the capital.
PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALE - REGENCY - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS - POST CANON
74 notes · View notes
dc-and-damirae · 5 months
Text
tim made a horrifying mistake and came to damian for help asking out benard
damian: it seems to me that he is a fussbudget and you insist on being chicken-hearted and until you stop being a Duke of limbs your endeavors are doome you to be a heathen philosopher tim: wtf I did not understand most of that and what I did I didn't like damian: don't use contractions it is unbecoming.
62 notes · View notes
kaldurcalm · 2 months
Text
Astarion might not enjoy flowers for himself, but he would become used to the idea if you liked them.
He might get stressed out at the florist and pick one of everything. He doesn't know how much arrangements cost so he argues with the florist and still leaves unsatisfied, no matter what he leaves with. The florist doesn't like him either.
If he tries to remember flower meanings, he'll probably be muttering over a book wondering how anyone remembers these things. If you walk in on him he'll jump and try to hide it or sheepishly show you his presentation.
He doesn't ever grow to love flowers the way you do, but he learns where the acceptable bouquets are.
~
Wyll is absolutely into the language of flowers and knows many of them by heart. He can do a bit of arranging himself, but he mostly likes to leave it up to the florists. They're the experts, after all. He just tells them what he's shooting for.
Whether he's picking them himself or custom ordering them from a fancy shop, he's happy either way.
~
Gale is an absolutel fussbudget. He micromanages everything and has very specific expectations. If the florist can meet them he's all gushing praise, but gods help the person who doesn't immediately see his vision. He's not rude so much as he's extremely finicky.
He will read up on the language of flowers in a ten-day, if he doesn't know them already. If that's something you like, you'll find flowers with different messages everywhere. He's always finding new ones.
~
Karlach is the most likely to pick some flowers off the side of the road. She doesn't care what they mean--although she thinks it's neat--she just thinks they're pretty.
She wants to live a normal life, so she'll want to have an arrangement at least once. She'll probably tell the florist, "I dunno... what've you got?" and then just go with it, because it sounds good to her.
There's a few exceptions where she would have a specific idea in mind, but she really just wants the normal romantic stuff. She's happy to be able to give and receive.
~
Halsin is more likely to give you a plant to care for. He doesn't really love the idea of plants that will die in a ten-day.
Druid clothing does seem to have leaves sort of woven into them, and @tadfools mentioned that Kagha's leaves looked like they were dying because she joined the shadow druids.
He might weave plants into a garment or something. Though the leaves seem to be a status symbol, so maybe he would gift you seeds. He communicates with the trees as well as well as with animals, so plants have a lot of meaning for him.
~
Shadowheart is flexible. She can do a grand gesture, she can wear a flower found by the side of the road. She jokes about the flowers a lot. She always calls you sweet when you give them.
She knows a thing or two about flower meanings, but far more about which ones make good poisons. She's learning which ones she likes best in her garden.
~
Lae'zel's approach to flowers is the same as her approach to sunsets. She didn't care for them at first, and it took her time to see the beauty in them. She probably asks for guidance because she knows she's out of her depth.
If the florist is scared of her, she gets annoyed; potentially to the point of storming out and saying that she'll do it herself. She quickly learns that doing it herself isn't as easy as it seems.
She appreciates the love she's gained for Faerun and its beauty, but she'd still prefer the heads of enemies.
49 notes · View notes
gffa · 1 year
Text
So, now that everyone understands that, yes, Sauron was indeed hot once upon a time, let me introduce you to the underlying purpose of why he does what he does: “[Sauron] did not object to the existence of the world, so long as he could do what he liked with it. He still had the relics of positive purposes, that descended from the good of the nature in which he began: it had been his virtue (and therefore also the cause of his fall, and of his relapse) that he loved order and coordination, and disliked all confusion and wasteful friction.”  --Morgoth’s Ring Sauron doesn’t want to destroy the world, he wants to make it nice and neat and organized.  It starts out as a virtue, that he likes things coordinated, but eventually gets so bad that it’s the cause of his fall, that this is his ultimate goal, to make everything be organized because it’ll bother him otherwise. #Sauron Has OCD You Can’t Change My Mind #I Have Never Related To An Evil Dark Lord Quite So Much Before #Just Remember That When Rewatching His Scenes in Rings of Power #Yes He’s Evil And Will Do Monstrous Things #But Also He’s A Fussbudget Who Just Wants Things Organized #I Love Him Your Honor
354 notes · View notes
shadowmaat · 10 days
Text
Imagining a scenario where Earth acquires a second moon (or possibly a stray asteroid). Scientists immediately try to name it Moonmoon because they are huge nerds, but the higher-ups refuse because "that term already exists" and they brand it with some fancy historical name.
Much to their chagrin, people call it Moonmoon anyway. The scientists are smug. The people are smug. The fussbudgets complain about how irrational everyone is.
(FYI in case anyone still hasn't heard, "moonmoon" really is an official term, though it has to be orbiting a moon to be proper. As I said, scientists are fucking nerds. lol)
16 notes · View notes
Text
This just in, Stede Bonnet is a fussbudget
Tumblr media
30 notes · View notes
ilikeyoshi · 6 months
Text
you ever think about how many words we commonly intentionally abbreviate or misspell just for the aesthetic, or like, words and phrases that if you think about their originating words kinda obscure/distract from the meaning of it.
and how like in hundreds of years from now historians (or aliens that find the desolated corpse of our planet post-climate change maybe) are going to be trying to figure out where the definitions of words like "baby" and "babie" differ, or reverse engineer "btw" through context clues, or what the fuck a "fussbudget" is. and the overwhelming likelihood that they will simply get some or all of it wrong.
and how this sort of makes you wonder how many words and phrases from hundreds of years ago WE'VE incorrectly assigned meaning to, and how history will always slip through our fingers, no matter how tightly we pool it into our hands? how interesting it is to realize that, for as much as we know, there's so much we don't? to wonder what people of those ages would say about our conclusions of the languages they used?
like i realize loss of history can be an extremely sad and awful thing, but when it's stuff like 'what a word means' or 'what species of tree we've never found remnants of might've lived here' or 'how did these bones work together when they were alive' or stuff that doesn't impact our ability to go forward in such intense ways, i think it's kind of magical? it almost makes me feel better about the things in my own past i can't remember. humans cannot hold onto everything, it is natural for some of it to slip away. we were not meant to remember everything.
25 notes · View notes
fairydares · 1 year
Text
I do also love Loid and Anya's relationship because it's seriously such a hilariously accurate portrayal of a dad/daughter relationship. At any given time, they're:
1. Attempting fruitlessly to understand what the hell's going on in each other's heads,
2. Drily teasing each other,
3. Outright roasting each other,
4. Up to utter fucking shenanigans that they both take incredibly seriously,
5. Having genuinely heartwarming and meaningful moments made slightly ridiculous by some peculiar detail, or
6. Fighting because he's a fussbudget raising a gremlin.
129 notes · View notes
telomeke-bbs · 7 months
Text
BAD BUDDY EPISODE 7 – BAIT-AND-SWITCH WITH CHARLIE BROWN ON THE ROOFTOP
When Pat wore his Baseball Mom tee on the rooftop in Ep.5, one possible reading is that his wacky outfit was actually a call-out to Pran playing a massive bait-and-switch prank on him, after all the times he'd done it to Pran before.
And through this lens, you can also read Pat and Pran as incarnating Lucy and Charlie Brown respectively from the comic strip Peanuts, while the various bait-and-switch games can be seen as renditions of the iconic football gag that Lucy always played on Charlie Brown. (Yes I know this sounds really crazy, but you can read more explanation and justification at this write-up linked here.)
Tumblr media
Prior to Ep.5, Pat had always been pulling the bait-and-switch on Pran, just as Lucy did with Charlie Brown. Some examples:
Pat returned Pran's watch at Ep.1 [4/4] 9.46 in a gesture of friendship, only to impose the condition "But…don’t talk to me in front of people. They might think we're buddies."
The tragic bunk-over beginning at Ep.4 [4/4] 10.43, when Pat subjected poor Pran to all sorts of affectionate moments, before exploding any hope of a romance with him by announcing his romantic feelings for Ink instead.
Gently comforting an injured Pran with soothing medication at Ep.4 [3I4] 7.07, and then suggesting it was only to get him back to fighting fit as Pat's competitor in sports;
Returning Pran’s guitar, then whacking down his romantic hopes with a callous "I just like to see your face… when you lose" (Ep.3 [4/4] 10.30).
Just as Pran was always the one subjected to Pat's bait-and-switch, in Peanuts canon Charlie Brown was always the victim of Lucy's prank with the football (she'd whisk it away just before Charlie Brown could kick it, and the momentum of the run-up would send him flying).
But on the rooftop at the end of Ep.5 BBS continued its subversive agenda and had Pran (a version of Charlie Brown the bait-and-switch victim) pulling the switcheroo on Pat instead (who before that was always a version of Lucy, the historical perpetrator of the prank).
Pran suddenly reversed the roles and gave prankster Pat a taste of his own medicine, by walking away after confirming Pat's romantic hopes with The Kiss. And Pat found himself the victim of the very same kind of short-con that he'd been subjecting Pran too up until then.
Since Pat and Pran had switched roles on the rooftop at the end of Ep.5, their very next rooftop encounter at Ep.7 [4/4] 1.44 has Pran now incarnating the persona of crabby fussbudget Lucy, while Pat is Charlie Brown – and Mr. Jindapat is certainly dressed for the part with his t-shirt there calling loudly out to Charlie Brown's iconic zigzagged yellow top:
Tumblr media
(above left) Bad Buddy Ep.7 [4/4] 1.48; (above right) Charlie Brown in his own iconic t-shirt
And this scene then becomes loaded with meaning when we look at it in the light of all the other bait-and-switch encounters in BBS, especially on the rooftop in Ep.5.
Pat calls attention to Pran's previous prankstering (at his expense) in Ep.5 on the rooftop by saying (in the subtitles) "You tricked me here for what now?" at Ep.7 [4/4] 1.44. (I think what he says is "หลอกกูมาทำอะไรอีกเนี่ย?", which – if so – probably translates to something more like "So what else are you duping me with, huh?" i.e., he's asking what more trickery is afoot from Pran).
Pran offhandedly denies any duplicity ("Come on. I’m not always playing games with you") but that's a lie of course – it's Ep.7 and they're still deep in the throes of their Beachside Bet™.😂 And Pat dismisses Pran's trickstering immediately because he knows Pran's ulterior motives in calling him there ("Yeah? If that guy didn’t quit the play, would you still want to see me?").
Tumblr media
(above) Bad Buddy Ep.7 [4/4] 3.33
Pat then tops it off with his comment at timestamp 3.33 ("I love to see your face when you lose"), a reboot of what he first said in the Tinidee corridor at Ep.3 [4/4] 10.30 that also calls out to his bait-and-switch with the guitar there. And this firmly grounds the scene as another comment on his signature pranking.
So Pat as Charlie Brown refuses to take the bait offered by Pran. And then we see Pat/Charlie Brown, the erstwhile prank victim, flipping the script to perform a bait-and-switch back at Pran (in a parallel with what Pran/Charlie Brown did to Pat/Lucy on the rooftop at the end of Ep.5).
But this bait-and-switch on the Ep.7 rooftop is the antithesis of all the previous ones. Maybe Pat has learnt something?
Before this, whenever Pat played the bait-and-switch game with Pran, he would be dangling something of value as bait only to dash Pran's hopes with a last-minute substitution. The promise of a precious moment, replaced with something quite the opposite instead.
Here on the rooftop in Ep.7, Pat changes his modus operandi. He's stringing Pran along by imposing terms that are impossible for him to meet, in return for taking on the role of Riam. What he wants is a public confession of love, a demand that privacy-obsessed Pran (at this stage of his emotional/psychological journey) is intrinsically unable to fulfil. (Of course, Pran's journey will eventually get him to a point when he can and does make that very public confession in Ep.10, and he will pay Pat back for this Ep.7 moment by using another bait-and-switch to get Pat to their khan maak on the Archi steps. 😁)
But Pat is playing hardball here on purpose. He's dashing Pran's hopes upfront in a reversal of all their previous bait-and-switch games, by offering up only defeat and disappointment (without him as Riam, Pran will have to deal with a furious Toto and the musical in a shambles). Except that this also allows Pat to switch things up in a final flourish when he appears on stage as Riam at Ep.7 [4/4] 4.26, saving the day for his beloved.
Tumblr media
(above) Bad Buddy Ep.7 [4/4] 6.40
It’s both a parallel with and also the absolute opposite of their previous bait-and-switch encounters (especially the one on the rooftop in Ep.5), because the initial proposition here is all doom and gloom, while the switched-in coup de grâce turns out to be a win instead for the recipient. It's hugely clever of BBS, and I'm kicking myself for not having seen this buried in there before.
No wonder this was the final play that won the match, worthy enough to have ended their Beachside Bet. And in this moment I think Pat made up for all the times he unwittingly broke poor Pran's heart with all his silly bait-and-switch games – by playing it one more time.
But this time around, instead of whisking his affection away, Pat deployed the ultimate switch-out and gave to Pran the prize he'd always wanted instead – Pat himself, no longer an elusive prankster who would offer and then pull away the possibility of romance, but someone Pran could rely on instead, to be there for him in support and love forever.💖
Tumblr media
(above) Bad Buddy Ep.7 [4/4] 6.52 – Pat and Pran bask in the afterglow of Pat's redemptive bait-and-switch, with Pat doing it right by Pran for the first time
13 notes · View notes
linesonscreens · 3 months
Text
Let's Read Peanuts (Yes, all of it) - November 1952
There are lots of great strips I just don't have room to comment on. I strongly encourage everybody to read the full month at the official GoComics page. Today's month starts HERE.
Nov 5, 1952
Tumblr media
Oh hey, we've reached Schulz making comics about Schulz making cowait a minute.
Waaaaait a minute...
~googles~
I knew that punchline looked familiar!
Tumblr media
Has Schulz been making gnus jokes that whole time? Or did our man just randomly decide to make the exact same dad pun 24 years later?
Time will tell I suppose.
Nov 7, 1952
Tumblr media
I hope you find the word “fussbudget” inherently funny because Schulz sure as hell did.
Nov 13, 1952
Tumblr media
More snowman comics that Bill Watterson probably took inspiration from.
Nov 16, 1952
Tumblr media
First football gag (that actually features Lucy)!
Nov 22, 1952
Tumblr media
Another interesting new aspect of the strip which is going to become fairly common is making multiple jokes on the same subject repeatedly over the course of about a week. There are 4 of these checkers comics in a row with this being the last one.
Also is this the first checkers strip? It's so hard to remember with these smaller gags? That's another thing you'll see come up a lot over the next few years.
Nov 23, 1952
Tumblr media
“Don't slaughter me, Charlie Brown!” would be a great name for a Treehouse of Horror style TV special.
Nov 24, 1952
Tumblr media
Thumb sucking has been established. Also he has his official outfit now!
Thoughts:
Speaking of Bill Watterson, I got his new picture book The Mysteries the other day and I think it's pretty decent. It's fairly small and not terribly long but the art is good (a mix of painting and physical sculptures apparently) and it's clearly a work of passion by the authors. I'd say it's worth grabbing if for no other reason than to support Bill Watterson making things.
Tumblr media
Peanuts was written and drawn by Charles Schulz and is owned by Peanuts Worldwide LLC. Please support the official release.
8 notes · View notes
potatoes-tomatoes · 1 year
Note
apologies if this is out of left field at all but do you have any thoughts or headcanons about lucy and schroeder? 😭 they’ve been on my mind sm lately
omg I’m so sorry nonny ;A; this is so late
Charlie Brown listens to Schroeder’s complaints about Lucy barging in, and asks why he doesn’t lock the front door. It’s the surest way to keep her out. Schroder half-heartedly shrugs, admitting it’s crossed his mind before, and says nothing else. That’s all the answer Charlie Brown needs, really.
Lucy doesn’t always lean against the piano– whenever Schroeder’s practicing instead of performing, (never. NEVER. interrupt a musician while they’re practicing) Lucy takes the opportunity to practice playing house, and she’s damn good at it. She can never seem to make a good cup of coffee though…
Schroeder never shuts down Lucy’s nuptial hypotheticals. Lucy’s got an active imagination, and. well, they're kids, so she comes up with funny problems. and Schroeder likes a good brain puzzle, so he’ll slow down on his playing to really think on a good solution.
Lucy’s not a big fan of Beethoven, or any classical music really, but she’s very fond of Sonata no. 8 in C minor, Op. 13 “Pathetique”: II. She walks in some days asking for Schroeoder to “play that lovely Pathetic song”
Lucy finds out that Beethoven was hopelessly in love, and rubs it in Schorder’s face that if he truly wants to follow in the footsteps of his idol, he needs to find a gal to pine after.
Schroeder’s the Piano Guy at gatherings and parties, unfortunately. He likes sneaking in sonatas every other pop song or so, and everyone around him groans. Then, quickly shut up. Because Lucy is death glaring every person in the room. No one dares telling Schroeder to skip his song. If Schroeder wants to play his boring ass sonatas he will play them, thus sayeth the fussbudget.
Schroeder will never. ever. EVER. admit it but… he secretly likes being doted on. Lucy gives him undivided attention and listens to his lengthy talks about music (though she’s always making faces at whatever he’s saying) and Schroeder’s never had a captive audience quite like her before. She’s an audience that responds (see: nags), and the reciprocity inspires his playing.
Lucy believes in Schroeder more than anything. She assuages Schroeder’s anxiety when he has to face a new piece, or worse, when he’s been stuck on a section of a piece for a longer period than he’d like. All she has to do is smile as he plays. He knows that face is genuine, and suddenly he finds he’s unclenched his jaw long ago. Hey, that section suddenly isn’t so hard….
Because of Schroder’s position in the sidelines, he’s able to see when Lucy’s at the cusp of spiraling, doing that Thing where she spreads herself thin for everyone and gets angry, insisting things be done her way. He knows when to step in and remind her that in order to take care of others, she has to take care of herself.
umm as for my thoughts, the only cohesive one I have rn is that I think they were absolutely adorable in "It's the Small Things, Charlie Brown"!! All Lucy has to do is call for Schroeder and he comes a-runnin, ready to play. I have no idea I needed that for their dynamic. Oh! and Schroeder being the one to point out what Lucy's afraid of in "Lucy's School"? His straight to the point delivery, acting as the final nail in the coffin? It's rly important that it was HIM who delivered that line to me for obvi reasons. Just. Yes. yesssss I'm so happy how Wildbrain is handling these two, so delicious.
53 notes · View notes