#Wilbur let me buy you a coffee I want to talk to you about character theory and how to build consistent narrative arcs

[hamletteprinceofdenmark]

I know what I’m like. That’s the issue.

This line will probably live rent free in my head forever. I’m not kidding. It is such a perfect encapsulation of c!wilbur’s character that I stay up at night thinking about what goes on in cc!wilbur’s brain to come up with a line like this because it is flawless.

c!wilbur is extremely introspective, to a degree where it’s actually harmful to his mental health. He spends so much time in his own head tying himself into circles and paranoia about everything from his (rock bottom) self worth to what he thinks everyone else is doing and thinking (about him or against him) that he rarely takes the time to be present and in the moment and actually listen to the people around him and to what’s actually happening.

This tendency for internalisation and isolation - particularly when not in a good headspace - was only exacerbated when he died and spent thirteen years in limbo. Now he really didn’t have anyone to talk to but himself. I know we all joke about Schlatt, Mexican Dream, and Wilbur having endless poker nights but let’s be honest, to be in limbo is to be alone.

So on top of all the stress and self flagellation c!wilbur put himself under in l’manberg and pogtopia, where he wasn’t able to get out of his own head despite other people being there and trying to help him, he’s now spent thirteen years by himself with no external input at all, with nothing to do but scream and think about the past.

Because here’s the thing, here’s the genius in the line, c!wilbur does know himself, but he only knows the very worst version. He is his own worst critic. So much of how he thinks and his perspective is blown way out of proportion, because he doesn’t allow for other people’s perspectives to hold any real value for him.

c!wilbur’s flaws have always been tied to self worth, and in particular being the kind of person who ties their self worth to external achievements. He thinks if people see “the real him” they would hate him and be horrified. So that’s not allowed. Let them see the mask of The President. Let them see the symphony of L’Manberg. Let them never see him for what he really is. Importantly, this is also a self worth tied to a man who does believe he is smart! That is not in question! It is one of the very few things that aren’t! So he clings to it! His own thoughts, how he sees things, are given a very high value because it’s one of the very few things he allows himself to give value to.

So in the end what you have is a young man with rock bottom self worth, who doesn’t trust other people’s opinions, and has just spent the last thirteen years (and more!) obsessively going over everything he ever did and picking it apart, primed to find and exaggerate every flaw.

He does know what he’s like. He knows what his version of himself is like.

He both does and does not know himself. That is the issue. That has always been his issue. And precisely because of how he thinks he knows himself, he can’t know himself and can’t see himself clearly.

And it is this inaccurate perspective that motivates his actions, which causes all his problems.

Do you see?! Do you get it?!

That is the issue.

But not for the reason he thinks.

#Wilbur soot #c!wilbur #dream smp #dsmp #turns out I did have the energy to write a meta tonight just not that one lol #anyway this line is never leaving my brain #Wilbur let me buy you a coffee I want to talk to you about character theory and how to build consistent narrative arcs #my meta

[lonely-lost-soul]

2,000 Follower Special

DreamSmp Kissing Headcanon's

~No minor members obviously~

Characters: Dream, Geroge, Sapnap, Technoblade, Phil, Wilbur, Fundy, Dream XD, Slimecicle, and Quackity

Side bar: thank you all so much for 2,000 followers! This means the world to me, I start college again on Saturday so writing might start to slow down. For now though I hope you enjoy the special! Don’t forget to join the discord!

If you like consider buying me a coffee?: thank you!

Dream:

Passionate and Slow

Dream would always kiss you like it was his last day with you, and knowing what he does it very well could be

Dream tasted of sugar and dark chocolate

His kisses were a temptation and an addiction

He would always pull you close by the loops of your jeans, his way of keep control of you and your shared kisses

Dream's hands would then drift to the curve of your back and down to your ass

PDA is not a problem for him, not like you were around many people in the first place

You'd laugh against his lips and he'd smile

He would never break the kiss first, only breaking it if you pulled away first

Dream knew you were about to pull away whenever you'd tug on the roots of his blonde hair, it was like you wanted to tease him one last time before letting him go

"You should go. You're going to be late."

"Come on kitten just a little bit more? Be a good girl like you always are for me?"

You laughed dragging him into another kiss, and he smirked against your lips giving your lips a little nibble

He felt you tug on his hair and pull away from him, "You're a dog."

"You love me."

"I do, now shoo. Leave no survivors for me."

Dream's face burned up to his ears and his eyes lit up with childlike glee.

"Always do!"

You were the only one Dream let stay in his life, the only attachment he allowed himself to have.

He'd kill for you

GeorgeNotFound:

Soft and Clumsy

George was never one to pull you close and kiss you slowly and passionately

The mushroom man would much rather show his love through other ways, gifts and sleepy cuddles being the main tells of his affection

Especially in front of others

When he would give you kisses he'd cup your cheek and pull you close for a chaste kiss

It was clumsy and you both always ended up with teeth knocking together before finding a rhythm

His lips tasted like strawberries

After every kiss, he'd rest his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes

In public, Geroge was always sweet never wanting to rough you up unless of course, he wanted to be a brat

However, that was reserved for when you were alone

No one else needed to know he thoroughly enjoyed getting dominated by you in every single aspect of life

"Gogy, on your knees. Now."

"Make me, savior."

"You know bad boys don't get what they want."

"We both know that's not true. Now fuck me already."

He knew he fucked up the minute your eyebrow raised and you grabbed at the collar around his neck.

You were about to show him how good of a kisser you were.

Sapnap:

Messy and Heated

Sapnap no matter what the circumstances always had a hand on you

Talking to Karl and Quackity a hand rested in the back pocket of your jeans

Talking to George and Dream an arm was around your shoulders

Even when talking with his dad and Skeppy a hand was firmly placed protectively on the small of your back

Anytime the fire demon was feeling the slightest bit needy his lips would be on yours

Sapnaps kisses were always making out, never in between

Fingers bruising your hips, as he pulled you flush against his body

The kisses were open-mouthed, his lips had a tendency to travel

Your neck would be covered in bite marks, telling everyone in the surrounding area who you belonged too

He tasted like cinnamon and pine

The make-out sessions always ended with his hand up your shirt or your hand down his pants

"Darlin' come on."

"We're having dinner with your dads we aren't going to go make out while they're making dinner!"

The pout on his face was so cute it almost broke you

"Please?"

"...fine."

He tackled you onto the couch not even hesitating to press his mouth against your own lips.

Technoblade:

Tender and Rough

He loved you to death, and his kisses always reflected that

Techonblade was tender when he needed to be, always careful not to go too far, careful not to hurt you

Those kisses came in a sleepy haze or when he came back from a long trip with Phil and Steve, or even after a long day.

He tasted of freshly fallen snow and mint

Technoblade would always run his fingers down your arm to ask for attention without really asking for attention.

You'd give him a kiss knowing that's how he asked and he would purr deep in his chest.

Some days, the voices won

They would plead him to be rough, to mark you and claim you as his forever partner

You secretly loved those days, but the guilt Technoblade felt when he'd succumb always made you keep your mouth shut

The kisses would leave you with more than a fair share of marks, including bruised lips and thighs

You knew who was in control by the way he'd cling to you, grab your hips and press your ass against his hips

"Tech?"

"hm..."

"Is today a rough day?"

You felt him nod against his spot on your neck, and heat pooled in your gut

His tusks began to pinch against the skin of your neck and you knew he was working on the first mark of many of the night

"We're going to devour you"

"Please do, you know I'm yours."

He growled and swallowed your words in a blistering kiss

Afterall you were his mate and the Blood God was plenty good with his mouth

Philza:

Soft and Gentle

Whenever he moved to initiate a kiss he'd always cup your cheeks and kiss your nose before your lips

He tasted of pine and fresh air

Phil always kept you safe from those who'd want to destroy the happy life you've built together

Unlike a lot of the other members of the SMP, Phil always put your well-being before his own

He always made sure you were happy and healthy, so he could provide the best life possible for you

Hands always found their way to your stomach and plush thighs whenever the opportunity found itself

Especially after your daughter was born, Euphoria was her name and she was born after the both of you had lost Wilbur

Not one for PDA unless it's hand holding or lingering cheek kisses

When alone it's a completely different story, man is all over you

Showering you with kisses and cuddles

If you want the kisses to be heated tug on the feathers at the base of his wings it's a sure-fire way to get him riled up

"Jesus Christ Angel you know what that does to me!"

"Yeah? And what're you gonna do about it bird brain."

He gave you a dark look that only meant you were in big trouble

Your smile only widened, after all, you were one of his peskiest crows

Wilbur: (mostly revivedbur)

During his presidency, his kisses were nervous and sweet

Those were your favorite, he'd be so nervous to kiss you, you'd have to pull him by his lapel and plant one on him

After he got replaced by Schlatt his kisses were full of blistering anger and horribly rough

Those were your least favorite, he only ever kissed you when he was horny or needed to let off some steam

When he was revived his kisses were otherworldly and brief

Those kisses were to prove to you that he's changed, that the 13 and a half years spent in hell were not for naught

He had you wrapped around his reformed facade almost immediately

You just wanted your fiancè back

Whenever he kisses you it was always when you were about to argue with him about something stupid

No matter what Wilbur you were met with the man always tasted of cigarette smoke and caramel

He'd kiss you in a way that made your toes curl and your mind fog up pleasantly

Wilbur would call you softly tell you how much he loved you while cradling your face

He also loved to plant kisses to the top of your head to show his everlasting affection for you

If the kisses got too heated his hand would wrap around your throat leaving you bruised and yearning for more

He'd never provide more, he only would when he was in one of his moods

His post-presidential self would peak through in those moments, just using you for a quick lay to blow off steam

In a haze afterward, he'd profess his undying love to you, how you were his muse

His everything and without you by his side he'd have nothing and no one to turn to in his times of need

"I love you, you know. More than anything."

"I know Wilby, I love you too."

You felt his lips grace the top of your head and you snuggled into him under the sheets

"You'll always stay by my side right? No matter what?"

"Always and forever Wilbur, until the end of the line. It's both of us or neither of us."

"I'll hold you to it."

Fundy:

Quick and Innocent

He was just overexcited and eager to kiss you all the time

PDA was never a concern for him, he wanted to show the entire server that he was in love and you loved him back

Fundy's kisses tasted like candied apples with a hint of powdered sugar

He was like his fox part in many ways, kissing you on the lips without warning, tail wagging behind him like an overexcited puppy

Fundy would grab your shoulders and pull you close pressing a quick kiss to your lips before scampering away

He'd shout a loud "I love you, dream girl!"

You would shout the same back knowing he'd be coming home after his shift in Las Nevadas

Fundy would bring you back gifts from his shifts all stuff from the magical city that gave him new meaning

You moved there with him soon after, and Quackity was happy to have another citizen in his city

Fundy spent the rest of the day by your side sneaking in kisses and dragging you around his jobs in the city

His kisses were never meant to leave you wanting more to be blistering and heated

You never minded that, he just wanted to show his undying love for you any way possible

But some days you had enough of his innocence and sweetness

"Fundy you know I won't break, right? You can kiss me harder than that."

He'd flush up to his face, his fur bristling, "I know that! I just don't want to hurt you..."

"A little pain is never a bad thing fur baby."

He yelped as you tugged on his tail, a smirk playing on your lips

"(Y-y/n)!"

"Hm?"

"Show me how?"

"Anything for you."

Like father like son it seemed

Dream XD:

Hard and Possessive

The God tasted indescribable, it was like everything you loved all wrapped up in his lips

XD was never one to share his possessions with anyone which is why he kept you away from the SMP

If he could he'd give up his godly powers and duties for you

If XD could live a normal life with you he would, he'd learn how to farm while you wouldn't need to lift a single finger ever again

his kisses always came as a surprise when you were doing something important

You'd be farming and suddenly giant hands lifted you into the air

You knew it was XD immediately and you smiled up at him, you kissed his giant thumb

He shrunk down to mortal size to press a kiss to your lips, his hands found your waist immediately

Nails digging into the flesh of your hips for sure leaving bruises and marks so everyone's knew he was there

XD loved your neck, loved covering it in claim marks so no one would mess with you or him

Doesn't care about PDA, will show anyone who you belong to if they so much as touch you

Appearing behind you and swallowing your lips in a possessive kiss that left you breathless

He was absolutely the jealous type

The only other man he even let you interact with was George and that's only because he was possessive over him as well

It didn't even have to be other men, if you were farming and not paying attention to him, he'd finish the work for you solely so he could get his kisses faster

Almost always his kisses divulged into something more passionate and electrifying

"My goddess," His voice was like honey as it filled you with warmth, "You are a drug to me. Did you know you could domesticate a God? You must've been aware since birth you were made for something special."

"You flatter me D," You yelped feeling his shark-like teeth graze the skin on your neck

"I'll do more than flatter you, Goddess, I'll compliment you so much you'll just be a pile of mush in my arms."

His hand slid down the front of your pants and you let your head fall against his shoulder

"That's it. Succumb to me, you are mine."

Slimecicle:

Inexperienced and Oblivious

Charlie was new to human experiences even though he pretended not to be

it took him three months before he even realized kissing was a ritual human's did when they were together romantically

You were human and you needed kisses for love! He wasn't being a very good flesh partner at all!

Before he kissed you for the first time he consulted with Quackity who handed him a book titled 'How to Sex' before walking away rather swiftly

Charlie absorbed all the knowledge he could from the books and from watching people kiss in the past

He read it cover to cover and when he saw you the next time he planted a kiss on your lips

or what he thought was a kiss, it was mostly tongue and teeth and you broke away sputtering

The poor man was so confused

He tasted like slime and it wasn't the only thing that caught you off guard

You had to guide him like a lost puppy

Charlie learned the proper body language you'd show when you were okay with a kiss from him

As always he was a very good listener, he just needed practice

Luckily he had such a teacher

You taught him what the different types of kisses meant

You taught him that there were many different types of kisses for different scenarios

Of course, he requested a demonstration for all of them

One might think it was an innocent enough request but you knew better

"Do you have a thing for your teacher Charlie?"

"Yes! She is very pretty and her flesh mounds and lips look very soft!"

You flushed and slapped a hand over your face to hide your blush

"You're such a dork."

"I'm not a dork! I'm bones silly!"

"Yeah I know, now come over here so I can give you a hands-on lesson."

"Yes ma'am!"

Quackity:

Hesitant and Pleading

also passionate and full of longing

Quackity pours all he has into his kisses with you, trying to communicate his feelings without words

His kisses tasted of vanilla and lavender

probably kisses hesitantly but passionately like he's afraid you'll leave him so he needs to pour all he has into the kiss

You knew he wanted a kiss when Quackity would look at you out of the corner of his eyes

They would be big and blown, wings fluffing against his back

He looked in love

He would look at you like you were his lifeline the only thing he had that kept him grounded after the loss of your other two fiancè's

Speaking of that: Abandonment Issues 101

When he kisses he holds your hand tight, you always made sure to kiss the scar he got from Techno and call him handsome

He'd always kiss you again after that

The feelings he gives you from the kiss are almost suffocating

He fears that since everyone else he ever loved abandoned him, he was always seconds away from losing you

First Schlatt, then Karl, and then Sapnap

He knows he should stay guarded so he doesn't get hurt for the fourth time

But here you were making that an impossible task for him

"Duckie you okay?"

He hadn't even realized he'd been playing with your fingers for the past ten minutes

"I'm fine Mi Amor," He breathed kissing your hand his gold tooth shining in the low light of the casino, "Just thinking about how much I love you."

"You're so sappy," He loved the way your soft cheeks turned pink and his eyes lit up

"Yeah, I guess I am."

He leaned forward and kissed you, once more feeling dread until you kissed him back

Quackity knew he'd be alright as long as he had you

~~~

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[id-never-letyoudown]

Uhhhh part two of the rare pair part 1

"Sleep well, Dove?"

"It's too early for your nonsense." Henry complained, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He had not. Slept well, that is. It was the damn nightmares again. They always came this time of year.

Henry had already visited the field. That usually helped things, but not this time.

"Tell me about them."

"Them what?"

"The nightmares." Even though he already knew well enough what they were about. "The men." Wilbur already knew. He's been in Henry's head more times than he could count. He had to make sure he was the right one for the job, after all. He didn't dig through everything in that mess Henry called a mind. His thoughts were constantly all over the place. And why were there so many musicals and chemical compositions in that thing?

Besides, he needed Henry to trust him if this thing was going to work. Something told him digging around that brain of his wouldn't end well.

Henry paused, looking down at his steaming mug of coffee. "They were dear friends of mine. Lovers." He takes a sip, it's more bitter than usual. "I was the cause of their deaths. Though... you already knew that." His eyes flick up to meet Wilbur's over the rim of his mug. "Didn't you?"

"..."

"I knew I could feel something rooting around. You were scoping me out before we even formally met, weren't you?" Henry grins in victory, setting his coffee down with a satisfying 'clack' against the marble counter.

"Aren't you supposed to be pissed?"

"If anything I'm intrigued! Can you read everyone's minds?" He leaned against the counter, head propped in his hand. "Ooo-what else do you know about me? I want the details."

Wilbur snorted, "Course I can. And for the record I don't know everything about you. I stopped looking around after a bit."

"Oh? So I still got some secrets then?" Henry would have thought he'd have long since taken advantage of his abilities. Know him inside and out. "Huh, seems I've pegged you wrong."

"You couldn't peg me at all." He grins.

Henry only shrugged. And something told Wilbur that he didn't get the joke.

Wilbur clears his throat, "Anyway, uh, wanna hear about which of the Monroe brats isn't Gerald's? The answer may shock you." Like a damn click bait article.

Henry's eyes light up, a loud gasp escaping him. "I knew it!" He was always down for gossip. And a scandal like that? It was right up his alley.

Wilbur enjoyed watching the man lose his shit with every little Hatchetfield secret he told him. And there were a lot. He could tell Henry was plenty skeptical of him, but he was getting there. Little by little.

--

Henry walked into the kitchen to fetch some refreshments for his monthly 'date night' with John and Xander. Used to be bi-monthly. And before that it'd been weekly. Nowadays he found the pair trying to gently nudge him away. And normally it wouldn't have bothered him. But they hadn't started doing this until after he was let go from P.E.I.P. Which made him think.

And think.

And overthink.

He had no problem with leaving the relationship. If they were to simply ask him. But all these hints? He could do without. Xander kept trying to set him up on blind dates. And John was cold. Even when the three of them were intimate. Especially when the three of them were intimate.

It really got him thinking....

His hand barely touches his turtleneck. Was it... no, it couldn't possibly be the scars. John had plenty of his own. Although, baring witness to how Henry got them probably made that very, very different. And there was the nerve damage. And the pain. Which always got worse when there was a storm approaching.

John was his friend. He didn't want him thinking he was responsible for any of that. He should call him-

His phone began ringing, as if on cue. He fetches it from his pocket. Of all the coincidences-

He answers it immediately. "I was just thinking about you, say we really ought to have a chat when you two get here-" his stomach sinks at the reply. "Oh... so, you can't make it then?... No, no. I understand. I hope you two have fun." And he hung up.

He looks at the bottle in his hand. At the neatly set dinner table. At the flowers he picked himself. Apparently the date the three of them made their 'throuple', as the kids called it, official wasn't all that important to them.

Such a shame he had to spend the day alone.

Or... not.

"... Wilbur, how do you like your steak?"

Wilbur was always there, even when he thought he wasn't. He didn't know why he felt comfort in that.

--

"Who was that?" Xander commented, fixing his tie in the mirror.

"Henry. I was telling him about how we couldn't make... it...." He trailed off when he walked into their bedroom and saw his husband getting dressed. "Where are you going?'

Xander paused, standing up straight. "Couldn't make it next month, right?... You told him next month, right?"

John pressed his lips into a fine line. "Iiiii thought you said-"

"John!" Xander dropped his tie. "Why would I tell you to tell him that we wouldn't be able to make it on the three of us' anniversary?"

"It was a mistake-I'll just call him back real quick." John did not want to face his husband's wrath, he could already feel his eyes melting the back of his skull as he dialed Henry's number. "It's just going straight to voicemail-"

"Get dressed, we're going anyways. And y o u can explain the mix-up."

--

"Where'd you learn to cook?" Wilbur asked him. Not that he needed to eat. Or had a great sense of taste nowadays. But it was nice to have something to chew on now and again. And it smelled amazing.

"Oh, my aunt. This is all from her recipe book." He seemed rather proud of that fact.

"Well, safe to say those two are missing out."

Henry hums. He's been quiet all through dinner. Still down about being cancelled on with such short notice. "You know what? They are." He stabs his fork a little too forcefully, and sends his mashed potatoes straight in the air. And right smack in his face.

They both pause.

And then Wilbur starts laughing. Which sets Henry into his own fit of giggling.

--

"Do you hear that?" Xander paused on Henry's doorstep, hearing the laughter coming from inside.

"Doesn't sound like he's alone." John muses, trying to see if he could sneak a peek through one of the windows. He can see Henry fine. But whoever it is he's with is just out of sight.

"John!" Xander whisper shouts, tugging on his husband's sleeve. "You can't just spy on our friend like that!"

"Aren't you curious?" John looks back at Xander.

"I-well-yes! But not enough to spy on him!"

The two continue to bicker quietly, or, they thought they were being quiet.

--

Wilbur looks over his glass, humming. "You've got guests." The curtains then shut themselves. It was a good thing neither of them could see him. He doubted seeing the former colonel would sit well with either of them. Especially John.

"What-" Henry looks towards the door, face now free of the mess from before. He can hear exactly who it is too. And it both confuses and ticks him off.

"And they know you're not alone. They won't buy it if you say you are." Wilbur stands up, "Gotta make them leave somehow."

Henry wracks his brain for an idea. And seeing as he's well into that bottle of wine, they're not really thought out. "... You can change your appearance, right?"

Wilbur locks eyes with Henry, a grin splitting across his face.

--

"Just knock."

"You knock-"

Henry opens the door a crack, taking a peek at the two of them. "... I thought you two couldn't make it." He responds plainly, not even greeting them.

"There was a mix-up." Xander explained, elbowing his husband to elaborate.

"I meant to tell you that we wouldn't be able to make it next time." John tells him.

"Well, that's unfortunate." Henry wraps his fingers around the door, glancing back into the house. "Because I ended up taking your advice, Xander. And I think it'd be terribly awkward of me to explain to my date."

Xander is equal parts thrilled and... well, confused. Thrilled because he wanted Henry to have someone to lean on when they weren't around. And confused because Henry had always outright refused whenever Xander brought up mixers or blind dates. "That's wonderful, Hen! Do we know who it is?"

"I ah-well-" Henry blinked, shit. He didn't even know who Wilbur was going to come around that corner looking like-

"Gary Goldstein, attorney at law!" Henry nearly jumped when the man announced himself. His face flushed. He let the door open fully, and there he was. The supposed Gary Goldstein. A faithful rendition, he'd say.

It was an... awkward conversation to say the least. When Henry finally managed to turn the two away he locked the door behind them.

"Whatthefuckwasthat?"

"You didn't tell me w h o to look like! I just chose a rando guy!"

"I... goddamnit." Henry stood there, trying not to laugh at the thoughts that had to be bouncing around in John and Xander's head right about now. "At least you chose someone at least somewhat attractive."

"Yeah, cuz talking non-stop about audits is so attractive." Wilbur runs a hand through his hair, the illusion dropping almost instantly.

Henry smiles, wine getting to his head. "That's much better."

"What?"

"... Hm? Oh, nothing. This was fun. Should do it again sometime."

--

"You're really going to make an entire plotline-"

"Is that what we're calling our 'reality scheming'?"

"-be quiet, are you really creating an entire plot based off of one thing this Matthews guy said to you?"

".... Yes, of course. Naturally. I'm calling it 'The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals'... hm, sure is a mouthful. What do you think?" Henry slides over his tablet to show Wilbur, who doesn't know if he should be impressed or not.

He rolls his eyes, leaning over to get a good look at it. "... You know, I think the big man might actually get a kick out of this."

"Speaking of, am I ever going to meet this 'Wiggley' character?" Henry slides his tablet back, tapping on the screen before resuming his scribbling.

"Depends on how well you perform, Dove-"

"Why do you call me that?" Henry looked up, reading glasses askew. He pulls them off to clean them up, fetching a cloth from his coat pocket.

"What, you don't like it?" Like that'd stop him. Wilbur watches Henry. He can't decide if he likes him better with or without the glasses-

"I just find it odd, is all. I don't mind it." He slides them back on, looking back up at him once again. "You called me that the first time we met-"

"That wasn't the first time we met."

"Excuse me?"

Wilbur is no longer sitting on the table. Henry thinks he's up and left until he finds him sitting in the living room, just barely visible from the kitchen. He gets up and follows him with a huff.

"I watched you for a while, before that day. I saw a lot of things." He chuckles, "Lotta embarrassing things too. But that's not the point." He pops his feet up on the coffee table. "I saw you with that bird a while back. You were talking to it. Thought it was kinda kooky, kinda sweet."

Henry has to think for a while, and then his face softens. "The bird you saw was one I nursed back to health." He sighs, walking up to him and kicking his legs so he's forced to move them. "Get your damn feet off my mahogany." He then walks past him, just to sit on the other end of the couch.

Wilbur scowls. He could kill Henry so easily, doesn't he know that? "How kind."

"It was either that or put it out of its misery." Henry makes himself comfortable, leaning back on the couch.

"I doubt you'd have the guts to do that."

"You don't think I'm capable of mercy killing? That's laughable." Henry eyes him, "Look in my mind and find out. Go on. You have my permission."

Wilbur did. And it hit him all at once. It wasn't that the scene shocked him. He just hadn't been prepared for the rush of emotion.

He saw Henry's hands. Injecting something into an IV drip. Shaking as they did so. And a man. So pale and sickly. Just lying on the bed. But he was smiling. And that's all he could see before Henry pushed him out.

"Promise me something, Wilbur."

He looked at him. So he actually was going to use that damn condition then? "... What?"

"Don't ever underestimate me or think me incapable." He curled up on the couch, looking ready to settle in for some sleep. "Promise me, Wilbur." His eyes weren't leaving him anytime soon.

"... I promise."

Henry seemed satisfied, now closing his eyes. "Alexa, play my Sleep playlist."

As soft music filled the room, Wilbur realized that maybe he bit off more than he could chew. Henry was chosen for a reason. He had to remember that.

He also realized it really didn't take long for Henry to fall asleep. At all. Out like a light.

Wilbur gets up, not even thinking when he takes the professor's glasses off for him. "Dumbass."

#tgwdlm #cridgens #henry hidgens #wilbur cross #professor hidgens #black friday musical

[mst3kproject]

Short: Once Upon a Honeymoon

           When I started this blog I really wasn’t planning to do anything with the shorts.  Mr. B Natural changed all that by being impossible to ignore, so here I am, coming back around to episodes I’ve already seen so that I can visit the shorts that precede them.  I’ve seen Night of the Blood Beast many, many times, and every time I do, this short makes a bigger impression than the movie.  It’s so colourful.  So catchy. So sexist.  So fucking weird.

           Jeff and Mary are a wholesome fifties couple who are just about to go on their honeymoon when they get a phone call – the score Jeff wrote for a musical doesn’t meet the star’s approval, and his boss, Gordon, wants him to come up with a new melody!  Lucky Jeff’s guardian angel, Wilbur, is around to provide him with some inspiration… except that instead of inspiring Jeff to write music, Wilbur’s angel dust inspires Mary to daydream about redecorating her house and putting telephones in every room.  Finally, the sound of the rotary phone gives Jeff an idea for his music. He dashes off a tune in five minutes, and he and Mary head out to have a wholesome fifties honeymoon with wholesome fifties sex.

           I assume that the original version of the ‘wishing song’ is the one Mary sings to herself while making coffee.  If so, I’m not sure what’s wrong with it, because it seems an awful lot more memorable than the final version we’re given at the end – it’s the one I’m humming to myself right now as I type this.  Ah, well.

           In the Thanksgiving version of the episode, Pearl gives Dr. Forrester the short and tells him it’s about ‘telephones or some damn thing’.  There are, indeed, many telephones in this short. Wilbur the guardian angel keeps one under his robe.  Jeff’s boss Gordon has one with speakerphone, which I can only assume was considered technological wizardry in 1956.  Jeff and Mary have one in their living room, and Mary’s fantasy home has telephones in the kitchen and bedroom, too.  The short was sponsored by Bell, so one must assume it’s supposed to be advertising phones in some capacity.

But Once Upon a Honeymoon kind of makes more phones look like a bad idea. True, his portable phone allows Wilbur the angel to keep in touch with heaven while he’s out on a job, but the short also looks ahead to the disadvantages of having telephones everywhere.  As long as you’ve got a phone near you all the time, it’s impossible not to take your work home with you.  If Jeff and Mary didn’t have a telephone, they could have gone on their honeymoon and Jeff’s boss would simply have had to wait until he got back.  The self-important diva who’d rejected the song in the first place wouldn’t have been able to call up and bother them.  If ignorance is bliss, then more phones equals entirely too much knowledge.

           Then there’s Gordon’s attitude towards re-writing the song, as if he’s asking Jeff to run down to the corner for coffee instead of, you know, writing an entire two-to-five-minute piece of music over again from scratch.  This speaks to a point I already made in my review of The Stone Flower – people who don’t make art often don’t understand that it is hard work.  Gordon says, you must have a dozen old tunes sitting around, as if he can’t imagine that there might be reasons why Jeff rejected these, or that they might not fit into the soundscape of the show.  Worse, both Gordon and his star, Sonia, keep calling Jeff’s house impatiently to ‘see how it’s coming’.  Apparently it never occurs to either of them that constant interruptions are not very inspiring.

           All this makes me wonder: if Wilbur’s job is to give Jeff inspiration so he can get this obstacle out of the way and go on his honeymoon, why does he instead inspire Mary to sing about telephones?  This doesn’t seem like an accident – she says I just wish I had a decent kitchen! and he smiles and sprinkles his angel dust to make her dream of one.  Maybe he’s keeping her occupied so she can’t join the chorus nagging Jeff to get on with it, but it didn’t seem like she would have done that anyway.  The film implies that Mary has spent the day keeping busy and staying out of Jeff’s way to let him work.

           Mary’s behaviour in the short has always struck me as odd, but when I think about it, it’s not just what she’s doing – it’s also what she’s not doing.  I can accept that she’s twirling around and singing about her desire to renovate the kitchen, because that sort of thing goes on in short advertising films from the 50’s.  What I’m confused about is why her badly-decorated home is her primary complaint on a day when she’s just been told she might not be going on her honeymoon.

           The honeymoon is clearly a big deal to this couple.  They’ve waited until a year after their wedding, which implies that they don’t have a lot of money and have had to save up.  Jeff secured a promise from his boss that he would have the time off – a promise the man seems happy to break without a moment’s lost sleep. Jeff is bitterly disappointed and annoyed by this development, calling Gordon a ‘vulture’ and Sonia a ‘temperamental ballerina’.  We see him sulk, skip lunch, chainsmoke, and bang on the piano in frustration.

           Mary doesn’t express anything similar, which is weird because it’s her honeymoon, too.  She’s been waiting for it just as long as Jeff has.  She’s got the bags packed and the place cleaned up in preparation for them to leave.  When in the same room as her husband she is supportive, trying to encourage him while ignoring his bad mood for fear of making it worse – this seems like a sensible way to treat a grouchy artist.  But even in private, she shows no sign that the delayed honeymoon has upset her.  Jeff talks back to Gordon on the phone, while Mary is polite and cheerful with Sonia. Mike and the bots try to fill in what is missing here, as for example when they have Mary call the other woman a copper-bottomed bitch, but that just makes the absence more conspicuous.

           If Mary wishes she had a kitchen phone, shouldn’t it be so she can call her friend Vy and complain about the situation without Jeff having to listen to her? If she’s going to fantasize herself into a musical, why doesn’t it involve the sandy beaches and romantic dinners she’s missing out on?  Mary literally has greater patience than an angel – the chief angel gets far more frustrated with Wilbur than Mary is with anything!

           The answer, as you may have guessed by now, is that it’s because Mary is not a character.  She’s just here to sell us telephones.  Although she gets the majority of the screen time, the only characters in this little film are Jeff and the two angels – they’re the ones who display some form of personality.  The rest are mere stock figures: a Demanding Boss, a Prima Donna, and a Perfect Wife.

           Mary has no opinion about the honeymoon because the ideal housewife should not want vacations or sexual fulfillment – all she’s supposed to want is to cook meals and clean house and be support staff for her husband.  This is Mary’s fantasy: a redecorated home and fully-equipped kitchen that will allow her to be an even better housewife, and to impress her friends and neighbours with her superior domesticity (as in the phone conversation she imagines with Vy).  She has no ambitions or desires outside of Jeff. The ideal housewife of the 50’s is not a person in her own right, merely an accessory to her husband.

           This extends to the bedroom, which she imagines as having twin beds rather than one large enough for a couple.  This was pretty standard in the media of the time, but it seems to imply that her fantasy life doesn’t even include sex.  Female sexuality was a taboo topic in the first half of the twentieth century, and sex was supposed to be a duty wives performed, lying back and thinking of England, rather than something they actively wanted.  Mary’s fantasy includes neither children nor any room for them.  Children would just make a mess of her beautiful, squeaky-clean new home.  She doesn’t want to be a mother, she only wants to be a wife.

           The house is Mary’s entire world.  She does not leave it until the end, when Jeff literally carries her out. Although she receives telephone calls from Gordon, from Sonia, and from her possibly imaginary friend Vy, the only time Mary makes one is when Jeff orders her to.  She never initiates contact with the outside, only reacts to it and to her husband’s wishes concerning it… which is actually really creepy. It’s like women are zoo animals kept in habitats designed to stimulate them and keep them in ignorance of the idea of freedom.

           Am I reading way too much into a little film that’s just supposed to make me want to buy a second telephone?  Yes, I’m pretty sure I am, but I’m also pretty sure real women don’t normally fantasize about kitchen appliances.  In the interests of science, I tried to take a survey of my co-workers to find out what their fantasies are.  The first one I asked told me she thinks about meeting a guy at a party, getting him falling-down drunk, then taking him home and putting on a penguin costume before getting into bed with him.  The idea was that when the guy woke up, he would see the strategic hole cut in the penguin costume and think drunk-him had slept with a furry.

           On second thought, I’m happy with Mary’s new kitchen.  I don’t want to see a short where somebody sings about that.

#mst3k #reviews #once upon a honeymoon #50s