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cornleypolytechnicgoeswrong · 2 years

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I finally compiled my masterlist of mmni quotes

It's pretty long so it's below the cut

Lasers and Quasars

“I really think they shouldn't have a thing for brooms. I think it's unfortunate that our movie hinges on them having a broom fetish”

I Found it in the Bushes

“Sean, I'm Keith. Sean. Sean. Sean.”

“The actor playing the vampire is now openly laughing at the guy playing igor.”

“Yes dad.”

“I'm reminding myself. Sean.”

“Dad, Keith.”

“Yes. Thats me I'm Keith you're Sean.”

“I'm Sean you're Keith.”

“Yes”

“You're the fireman.”

“I've come to the conclusion that it is infact a fire and you should put it out. Good day.”

“The firemen in Versailles don't put out the fires themselves?”

“I'm just Piecing together to story of petunia. So she was a woman who did not believe in vampires but died at the hands of a vampire which meant that Keith delivered his life to try to kill a vampire but seconds before she died - of a vampire - he divorced her.”

“Nope, they're not allowed to.”

Who Bun It

“Are you alright? Your beak fell off your face. Must you possibly see a doctor.”

Flat Pack Attack

“May I have a moment alone with the boy?”

“What I like about Steve is only 2 seconds ago he was called ben.”

“No need to be angry, no need to grieve. Hello, Steve.”

“Of course I'll be upstairs preparing my finger.”

“It's Ben.”

“You look like you could use some advice well I'll tell you something extra special nice.”

“You have a feeling like the tightening of a sphincter. well that's probably just the feeling of amygdala”

“Theres a jar of preserves inside me. That's right I must get it out as fast as I can the only way I know how. I'm gonna use some of these things at the IKEA store to get it out of myself.”

“That was Delta Von Tassle: The Man With No Name (Self-managed).

From Russia with Gloves

“You've surely got a family koala. You could go away with them. You're such a good friend of mine.”

“Koalas are polygamous y'know... Polyamorous”

“You want to drive a speedboat to the amazon?”

“I love the full body glove, makes you're whole body look like hand and I like big hand.”

“I do”

“It'll take all bloody week”

“Sometimes I've wondered about slipping a hand in your pouch but then I've thought no, don't - resist”

“You are a useless man but you're damn fast on Expedia and I appreciate that.”

“Yes I've thought the same thing about you.”

“Im so sorry Georgina. You said they would all be adopted and looked after but instead they've been stuffed full of drugs and slit ear to ear. I don't know what to say really.”

“Together we got rid of the glove and now I'm ready for some interspecies love”

“It doesn't bother you that I'm all skin and no fluff....or a bit of fluff.”

A Cat in the Habit

“No, you don't have horses in america do you?”

“I love the moment where sister Penelope really thinks this scene has ended and the camera will cut away from me but then she is answered by God.”

“I've seen you up at that convent, riding around on your horse with your top off, all oiled up.”

“No no only camels”

“She's teaching me about how to be a person in the world. How to love somebody else. No matter who you are.”

“You know I like to be smooth dad.”

“How to do erotic drawings of men.”

“God can do all of that son.”

“Yes, God not massively known for his eroticism in his artwork”

“Celeste is it? I can smell you a mile off. Named after the sky but stinking of hell.”

“Perhaps instead of the harpoons, we could read scriptures from the ok! Magazine and pray for her.”

“You may try your harpoons but it will not work if you've a rogue nun on your hands.”

“Katie Price breaks up with her latest boyfriend”

“Victoria Beckham redecorates her kitchen”

“Pregnancies....galore”

Careless Whisper

“Well you know often these things first time round are tricky. Maybe you just need to give it another go. You know what they say, give things another go.”

“Listen I know you're my special special special boy”

“That's what they always say.”

“I'm 4 specials and nothing more.”

Dressed for Danger

“I must be alone with each and every one of you.”

“Do you need thin translucent cloth that is almost completely pointless? Well then you need muslin cloth”

“And if you must do that then you've gotta find us first cause we do that via the game of hide and seek.”

“OK 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1″

“Tony I see you behind the umbrella”

“Damn it you're good!”

“I know. I am French.”

“Yes you are moist and sad from crying”

“I am afraid you are in the midst of a murderer”

“This is not case closed. This is case wide open, like a clam.”

“I'm in the midst of a murder?!”

“Murderer!”

“In the - you are - as in -”

“I'm in the midst of a murderer?”

“No you are like-you are standing in the same room as a murderer.”

“There's a murderer in the midst?!”

“I am going to do scene 2 of the show. Celia opens the show and now you will show me what came next. And by showing me what came next, you will show me what went before.”

“Yes. Your midst! In our midst!”

A Cop in the Ocean

“I never stopped being dastardly in general did I?”

“Oh my god, a clown with a Squeegee”

“I guess not boss”

“No I just continued to be moist and dastardly but what I wanna do is get a whole crew of girlscouts fiddlin' cookies all over the good part of town.”

“Do a blood test on them and a urine test and you'll find blood in their system. Blood and- and drugs.”

“I can whip up some girl scouts for fiddling if you want that boss.”

High Tide School

“Kids have the spirit of a thousand... Enlightened Buddhists”

Suicide Squid

“I just believe fish shouldn't make people rich”

“Their horrid squid outward is my horrid squid inward.”

“Some people wanna be rich. Some people want fame. But others just wanna kill fish.”

“You were hurt, you were lost, so you killed all the fish. We've all been there.”

“It’s too late for us we are outward squid”

Now Museum Now You Don’t

“Don't try anything boys. My teeth are faster than a nun’s nugget”

“My teeth are definitely faster. Your nugget is essentially stationary.”

“Never try to take revenge on a small bitter man when its gone past his bedtime cause he will just make you go ‘shlum’ for 15 minutes”

“I'm not who I was and you are who you were”

Light Over the Rocks

“You know what they say, you know what I say your father he just-he just rubbed the rock and roll right out of me he ruined rock and roll for me forever when he ran off and left you and I and you and I, you”

“Us”

“Us that's the word I was looking for, us.”

“Y’know what they say about Oranges... They never stop being juicy. And that's why my hair is orange so I'm always juicy y'know what I mean. I've always been like this. Y'know what they say about lights... They're bright and they burn”

“Ooh dear oh dear oh dear. That's how it always goes down at the open mic night. Some people get recognised. Some people get left behind. But what do I know, I'm just Chesney Hawkes.”

The Quest for Escape a Lot

“How did you know my one weakness was nets Arthur?”

“Everyone's weakness is nets, tim. That's why they're called nets. It stands for not easily traversible.”

“What about the s?”

“System. Not easily traversible system.”

Look Out

“I only ever picked up sticks because I loved you. But now I'm scared. I'm scared, without any sticks, I'll have nothing. I won't be the same man I was before”

“Paul there is always a stick. The stick within Paul. Don't you know about it? Think about it, it runs all the way from your head to the bottom bit of the spine thing”

Enter the Elephant

“Well you know what they say about cockneys. Fly pluckers, the lot of em.”

“The Young one is foolish. Only a rash man snatches ovaries at a fight."

Love Behind Bars

“Yes you did your tax things and I did that thing where I stole... Hair... From the hairdressers... The floor...i took all the hair no one even wants that y'know”

“I know and here we are on the maximum security wing in prison”

“In what way is good mental health like a walnut latte? Like that-no! You can't just have a song and jig enough that it all makes sense. The next verse explains from a scientific point of view. How a walnut latte and mental health are in any way alike.”

“You know what, I always find walnuts so romantic. The way they look like a tiny brain. It makes me think of my brain connecting with your brain.”

“Well it makes perfect sense because, which camera are we on, okay you know I'm gonna explain this scientifically cause if you get a walnut and you like the taste of the walnut and it gives you endorphins which actually improves your mental health so if you're eating the walnut then you make your mental health better that's how a walnut oat milk latte improves your mental health”

Temple of the Red Giraffe

“I’m giving you the jewels”

“I thought you were burning my breasts off”

“No its a common mistake but I wasn't”

Nightmare on Bone Street

“You taught your dog to laugh?”

“pride comes before a fall remember”

“Yes he understands the rhythm of comedy very well.”

“yes but I don't believe in gravity”

“A wardrobe a wardrobe my kingdom for a wardrobe.”

“The lead less dog stops licking out the cream from that dead man. For God's sake get off the floor.”

Wishing for Wishy Washy

“I know most girls want ponies not a horrible sick old horse like me”

“Look at that horrible horse!”

“I've got an udder and I don't know why.”

When the narrative gets tough everyone else deserts Harry Kershaw to allow him to carry on on his own

“Congratulations on your womb”

Fraud of the Blings

“I've made the rope sentient.. Hello!?”

“You've given us our sense of purpose back. You've made us make sense again.” [just something Jonathan said that made me emotional]

“Help me I am a sentient rope. I have knowledge. For the first time I have knowledge. HELP ME! WHAT AM I WHAT AM I WHAT AM I WHY MUST THE ROPE EXIST. WHY DO I DANGLE SO?”

Over the Henge

“Yes, I remember our young days, days where we were young, young before we were old but after we were very young. We were young men not knowkng where to go. But we went there, then we came back from there. We were just young of course. Not old, young. Soon to be young - old. Soon to be old.”

“You do speak a tremendous amount of bollocks sir”

“As all kings must”

The Hound of the Wensleydales

“I was stuffed with a cheese puffed”

“Did cheese Radio just call him a ball bag? I think cheese radio needs to remember that this is a family show.”

“Yeah she's dead and it would appear The method of murder was cheese puffed”

Popes on the Ropes

“Vampires v popes that's how it's always been in the WWE.”

“Always and forever since BC”

“It's an old, old profession.”

“Popes were around BC?”

“That's right.”

“Yeah we were real forward thinking then.”

“All dinosaurs work for the catholic church”

“We knew it was coming.”

Zoomania

“We've got 8 minutes left and we've got story strands everywhere! We've got the elephant with a bomb on about to be dropped onto the earth, they’ve become gangsters about to kill people and our lead characters are frozen still.”

“Who's the tortoise pervert”

Singing in the Aisles

“Asda is a wizard it would seem”

A Dice with Death

“It is an unusual form of ventriloqy to begin with your mouth wider than when you were speaking yourself”

“It was all building nicely but now all of a sudden we found out that one of them is a cloud.”

“I’ve got my own show. I disappear into another man's box every night, I get confused, I don't know where I am, and then bang I'm in a curtain call”

“I am dissipating. Someone sprayed me with silver nitrate.”

“I am an elemental creature we cannot be together. Our children would be half human half vapour they would not survive.”

“No, I don't even know what that means!”

“It dissipates clouds.”

“What?”

“you need to know more advanced chemistry.”

“He's still putting his trust in the mass proposing ventriloquist”

“I don't think I do.”

Star Paws

“Of course the world needs intelligence but I'll tell you what else it needs, balls.”

“Which you come with many”

“I bring balls in spades not literally”

“Sir you can't keep your balls in the cupboard anymore you'll have to take them back”

“There we are”

“Did he just put his balls back on? So he's literally a man who has lots of testicles that's what's going on there.”

Angstronauts

“You make sure that this ship is ship shape ready.”

“Ribena shareth? Yee.”

“I was gonna touch your hand but then I thought it would be horrible cause they're so sweaty.”

“It's always in the shape of a ship.”

“Mine are like pickled clams.”

If it Wasn't for Those Pesky Kids

“It's unusual to blackmail someone during a press conference”

Abandoned Love

“I don't know what's weirder, that they didnt book or that the hats belonged to the premises”

“That's jazz.”

Good Guys Finish Last

“I convinced Dec that he should actually do the double act with a real ant but um...he said no. And that was a good call.”

“I am the sea! Deeper than a thousand lakes, wider than 10 lakes, sideways greater in measurement Than 40 lakes. I am the sea.”

“He ain't no friend of yours. He's been using you like toothpaste. Well it's time the toothpaste became the toothpastee”

Ipswitch it up

“These people with their newfangled things, internet, cars! I tell you what, I was very happy with the flip phone and a horse.”

Croydonosaurus

“That man-ladybird has been the only thing that I've had in my life the last 5 years that has made me feel again. It's why I'm so competitive with my daughter about love.”

“That doesn't seem healthy. Bringing a 6 foot ladybird into the family home.”

“I suppose it's about a 1 all right now.”

Back to the Tutor

“Nana you don't think my old friends will think it's weird or strange that my date is my grandma do you?”

“Before we went out to do this with a new team the one thing we said was let's keep it simple at the start. Already we have a half car assembled by a woman who is also the radio. Hold on tight everyone.”

“It's not weird or strange at all to have your - such a lovely busty lady as your date”

“No you're right. It's wasn't so much the busty as the grandma that I was worried about.”

Pier Today Gone Tomorrow

“You take a grudge and you nurture it like a small cat.”

No. No I don't think she's the strange one in this. It was the parrot, the sleeping bag man and the medieval princess in a tiktok office interviewing for the role of 'friend' they are the strange things! A woman trying to turn over a new leaf - that's pretty regular I'd say.

“What has happened. It was all going really well, I thought this was going to be a quick scene where we saw it was really hard for Mirabel to turn over a new leaf, but she puts some glasses on, suddenly everything changed and now she's meeting the mayor, the princess and a small gentleman in a sleeping bag.”

The Man Who Came in from the Cold Storage

“As we are in east London I got you some olives served on a bin lid with turmeric as requested.”

“You double killed Samson”

“Right,it's very very important - never thought I'd say this one - it's very important we don't shoot an unborn baby during the matinee. I think that's like, a theatre rule. If it isn't, it should be.”

“I don't care about Samson. His pool was tiny and not chlorinated.”

“But his heart was big and also not chlorinated.”

Fielding of Dreams

“Enjoying the fact that this is our life! There ain't no ups but there sure as heck ain't no downs. And that's fine with me.”

“I said one domesticated sheep. There's a flock of them. Ones a policeperson, ones a miserable old woman called Mabel and one appears to be smoking.”

“This really is the story of a child called felix who settled.”

Fire In the Hole

“A woman with independence is as strong as an oxen full of iron and a fire full of oxygen is as strong as that woman”

It's up to you, Newark Newark

“Here's a newark hotdog. It's made entirely of meat. Meat bun, meat dog, meat onions.”

“Here are the 4 horsemen. You are the apocalypse.”

“Dog meat?”

“Your old 15 year old hips can't handle it anymore.

“No no comma, meat, dog”

Ah I take olive oil every day.

Cause you have to. We just produce it naturally.”

“They see! We don't see. We don't see the pooing. I'm sorry I forgot about I forgot about the pooing. Pooing? Outrageous. That stops. That stops now and she goes somewhere private. But it's awful. And of course jiminys dad, is David really going to be proud of them now?”

“The books have gone away. How awful. They threw a family of books into the famous Newark River. He knows what it's like to have his mum kicked into outer space. That's how dark this gets, that's how dark sports get man.”

“Gillian wait - wooahhh”

“Susan quickly-”

“We gotta help we need to just- wooahha”

[general screaming and shouting]

“PAUSE. PAUSE. PAUSE. NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! I SAY NO!I CANT HANDLE THIS. I'M GETTING LIGHTHEADED CAUSE I AM SO DISGUSTED WITH THIS FILM AND THE PEOPLE IN IT. BUT OF COURSE THEY STOP FALLING OVER IN IT NOW RIGHT.”

“Gillian Gillian come on inside the medical tent.”

“And these were these were the highlights from day one at the games I mean I think it's fair to say that the Olympic games have been well and truly soiled in reputation. What an awful thing to happen”

Ashopocalypse Now

“My names Jack I'm a car mechanic and I've lost my companion”

“Control yourself Sybill Peacock Penis”

“Thank you for that précis”

“Who are you? Can you give me a précis of you?”

“I'm Jolene my husband is a slightly crazed military man who seems to have lost perspective on real human connection. Then there's a man whose actually a woman. There's a happy birthday prophecy. They're searching for me but I've lost them but mostly I'm looking for my daughter who loves Jane Austen and she got lost in a Waterstones I think she may also be somewhere else so that's who looking for.”

“It's time! For... Other characters.”

“We come from quite different worlds.”

Ashopocalypse Next

“Remembering when morrisons wasn't boarded up. People could go inside and-”

“Look at the fresh vegetables.”

“This sample isn't going to be enough to create an antidote. We're going to need all of your blood.”

“Moderately fresh yes.”

“All the brilliant characters we had and all we're left with is a guy who can't remember which character he is unless his peacock penis is out. I don't care anymore. Family friendly? I don't care anymore. We stop tomorrow. We stop tomorrow that's it. In for a penny in for a pound. Get your peacock penis out as much as you want. If you're not gonna try and stop it I'm not either. [...] what are you all applauding? Are you that culture starved that an umbrella penis gives you that much joy? What has happened to civilisation??”

“One second we'll - we'll need to get authorisation from the local council for that.”

Ashopocalypse Then

“You're one of those weird people aren't you?”

“Nothing weird about us. I'm simply a man who gets involuntary erections and this is Andrew Garfield”

“I'm a pigeon”

“Dressed as a Pigeon.”

The Day Harry Got Cut in Half

[Not a quote just a note that Lauren does a Scottish accent for 90% of her characters in mmni but the one time the film is actually set in Scotland she ends up doing a welsh accent.]

“Pray don't be fickle. Pray she won't be no pickle.”

#tag yourself #im 'Yes you are moist and sad from crying #or 'oh my god a clown with a squeegee'#obsessed with all of the suicide squid quotes tbh #I love how certain movies just have way more than others #like they were clearly just going off on one for that hour #there's definitely some important life advice and mottos in here - 'I just believe fish shouldn't make people rich'#and 'only a rash man snatches ovaries at a fight'#are definitely being incorporated into my moral codes #im obsessed with the pure unfiltered wisdom that comes from improv like this is humanity at its finest #anyway this post was brought to you by my inability to not note down every quote that makes me laugh #I would fully recommend doing that tho tbh I have a great time going back through my notes pages of things my friends have said #or quotes from things I've watched #anyway hope this is fun add your own if there's any I didn't include that you love #mischief movie night in #mischief theatre #mmni #mischief comedy #the goes wrong show

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veiledintj · 2 years

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INTJ, trying to calm INFJ down: I mean, frustration often leads to irrationality

INFJ, on a rant: But being irrational for a long time is just STUPID!

INTJ:

INTJ: Please repeat that and savor exactly how productive and deeply meaningful that sentence is

INFJ:

INFJ: I'd rather not, thanks

#tbh infj was angry at how people were using illogical arguments for human rights #I felt more like 'if their arguments dont hurt anyone and they actually advocate for human rights then there is no problem'#in other words it's Ti vs Te at its finest #everyone thinks the inxjs are weirdos/psychopaths but irl we just keep on accidentally humouring each other #ni doms #mbti #intj #infj #mbti dynamics

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tiyoin · 4 months

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briar valley doesn’t know what to do.

the capable, dark fae are proud creatures. they pride themselves in being ‘superior.’ able to adapt to anything anyone could throw at them…

and yet;

it’s sunny out

for the first time in thousands of years, it’s sunny out.

the citizens of briar valley didn’t know what to do with this event. was it a bad omen for the impending future? was another war going to break out? did those fae come to attack?

all wrong and pessimistic.

it was because, for the first time in thousands of years, a draconia was happy. smiling, besides himself with joy as he stared into your crinkled eyes.

eyes which he found himself searching and scanning for any signs of deceit, any signs of ill intent or mistrust.

to give him a reason to shut you out and crackle his way back into his palace. but there was none. because as the sun peeked its head from the clouds like water being dropped onto watercolor, the more your eyes seemed to shine like those very colors.

as the light touched your face your eyes seemed to glow, to sparkle, to swell with so much love and adoration he could tell that the tears sliding down your face weren’t sad ones. but happy ones.

he’s only heard of humans crying from joy. believing it to be another one of lilia’s tall tales. and yet, there you are once again smashing his expectations.

his lips felt chapped.

yet yours, looked delicious. like a freshly baked cream puff young clover would used to give you. he himself didn’t care for the lightness of the pastry, yet he’d always remember the way you lit up once you chewed the treat.

he could almost chuckle at how you ravaged it. it’s remains spilling from your lips as you chewed happily. he remembers commenting about how ‘ruthless you humans were to cute things.’ you had laughed at the comment, cutting malleus off before he could finish. yet he decided to save that second part for much later, as having you laugh was enough for him.

the cream puff felt like sand paper on his fingers compared to your lips. they almost felt like jelly when he swiped his thumb across the bottom of your lip. your eyes slowly widening as you tensed up. your eyes followed his as he sat back down on his chair.

his eyes trained on yours as he swiped his thumb across his tongue before he commented about its flavor.

yet compared to now? your lips were softer than the pillow the princess of dreams slept on. they were smoother than the finest silk, and lusher than the rose queens prized possessions.

he had to tear his eyes away from your grinning face as he stared at you as a whole. you were jumping up and down, hands intertwined with one another as he stared up at you.

there was a pit in his stomach, an ache to his limbs, especially his tail. but most notably he felt a a burning in his chest that got hotter with each new ray of sun.

———

might delete in a few hours tbh

enjoy this quick malleus scenario i wrote as i typed. NOT‼️ edited‼️ i lost my train of thought and gave up.

trying to warm up the creative juices i suppose 🤓🤷🏻🤷🏻

#i was bored #not edited #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #thanks sativa

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astridthevalkyrie · 1 month

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your match is made | xavier x reader

“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.” “Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—” “I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.” “Stop,” you whisper. But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”

cw: fluff, like that's it that's literally it this is so fluffy

word count: 6.6k

a/n: lyric credits used in this fic: téir abhaile riú by celtic woman <- fire song btw, listen to bless your ears, it also sets the vibe of this fic very nicely tbh. jeremiah's my favorite boyfailure.

Lanterns hang from every available line in and around the town square, brightening any block lucky enough to fall under its horizon. In every corner and roadblock, there are carts littering the streets, dozens upon dozens of merchants calling out their best prices on their finest goods, all the way from fabrics stitched by the very same threads used for the royals’ robes, to common sweet chocolates that all the teenagers are purchasing in bulk to share with their friends and younger siblings. There is room to move around, but there is not a single area that is not bustling with people, either trying to purchase steamed corn from the stalls or simply enjoying the festivities with their families. And in the center of it all, the bards play with such finesse that their fingers may as well be the source of the music rather than the instruments.

Such is the celebration of lights, a celebration of the light. Of Philos, of this miracle that humanity has been gifted with. Every year without fail, the people gather in the town square to commemorate this historic occasion, and every year without fail, it is the grandest jamboree you have ever bore witness to.

“C’mon, Xavier,” Jeremiah protests out loud, “what would be the point of having the crown prince with us if he refuses to pay for our meals?”

Xavier simply shakes his head, the serene smile never leaving his face as he denies Jeremiah for the third time tonight—he clearly derives great pleasure from doing it. “I’d hate to rob you of the chance to participate in Philos’ market tonight of all nights.”

Jeremiah groans at his right, and from Xavier’s left, you giggle. It’s the same routine every single year, and at every occasion to be honest, and yet Jeremiah never stops trying to emphasize the difference in his wealth versus the royal family’s. Xavier, who you think would give his last dime to an ant if it looked hungry enough, looks like he loves refusing Jeremiah more than participating in any one of the activities tonight.

The spicy aroma of rice cakes fills your senses then, and you let out a longing sigh as you look to the stall decorated with steaming bowls on all sides. “I’m starting to get hungry too, now.”

Both of them follow your gaze, where the vendor is hurriedly turning this way and that to discuss prices and accept payments, while three of his chefs work in the back, delivering more as the demand increases. Xavier hums quietly, then takes out a small black pouch from his pocket.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to eat.” He holds out the bag for you to take, but before you can, Jeremiah scoffs, loudly.

“Oh, that’s sick.” He points an accusing finger at the prince. “That’s sick! If you keep playing favorites, you’re going to get betrayed when you take the throne, I hope you know. I swear I’m going to lead a revolution against you myself.”

“Do you really think my grandis knight would ever let you harm me?” Xavier shoots back, and you beam as Jeremiah rolls his eyes, snatching the pouch straight out of his fingers.

“I’ll take this, and I’m going to get two”—he holds up two fingers for emphasis—”two bowls, and I’m not sharing. Your grandis knight can split her portion with you.” With that, he stomps off in a huff, leaving Xavier with his head tilted and a confused expression on his face.

“I don’t understand. There should be enough coins for three bowls.”

“He’ll get you a bowl.” You raise your voice enough for Jeremiah to hear as he walks. “He’s very grateful that you offered your money, isn’t that right, Jermy?”

Jeremiah makes a rude gesture without even turning back to face you, and you laugh, grabbing Xavier’s wrist to follow him. If it were any other member of the royal family, they’d be getting swarmed right about now, and would likely require at least ten guards to stand around them at all times to ward people off. That is how the king and queen sit, a few blocks away from the main festival, up on a platform elevated high enough that no one could think to climb it, with Lightseekers both in front of them and on the ground, safe and observing the celebration from a distance. Philos’ crown prince is different. Xavier is out in the town with the common folk so frequently that he’s almost lost all the celebrity status his title comes with. Of course, that makes him popular in an entirely different way. The people in the market always seem happy that someone of such high status would lower himself enough to walk and talk amongst them.

His hand slips lower as the two of you go after Jeremiah, warm fingers intertwining with yours. You think little of it, reckoning he doesn’t want to get separated with so many people around. Xavier isn’t one to shy away from touch, at any rate. Once you spar with someone enough, it’s only natural to become physically comfortable with one another. He places his hands on your shoulders when he wants to guide you somewhere, bandages your cuts with his own calloused palms, presses his lips to your forehead to check whether you’re sick or not. In the face of all that, him holding your hand while running through a bustling crowd is hardly surprising.

Jeremiah is waving the pouch in the air hopelessly, trying to be noticed amongst the rest, when the vendor spots the two of you. “Xavier!” he calls happily. “Good timing, I have a fresh bowl ready just for you!”

“Unbelievable,” your chestnut-haired friend mutters under his breath, elbowing you as you laugh at his misfortune. Xavier steps closer, and you see him hold up two fingers to ask for more. When he points over, you wave to the vendor, who waves back before calling out instructions over his shoulder. In almost an instant, he has three steaming bowls filled with rice cakes ready for you to take. Your mouth almost waters at the sight.

Xavier picks up one of them to offer to you, which you take gratefully. Taking a few steps to the side to avoid crashing into anyone, the three of you find a relatively less crowded place to dig in.

Before you can take a heaping sip from the spoon, he gently takes your wrist and blows on the hot broth, meeting your eyes with a soft, concerned look. “Be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” you remind him teasingly, but blow some air of your own onto the spoon before finally digging in. As the flavors explode inside your palate, you hold back a moan at how good it tastes.

“Miss Knight!” a high-pitched voice calls out, and you turn in time to see a tiny pink blur moving past people’s legs.

“Adelaide!” You hand your bowl to Jeremiah, who passes it to Xavier without even blinking, and kneel down to catch the blur in your arms. “Look at you, you look so pretty! I love your dress!”

The little girl’s eyes light up at the compliment. “Thank you! Miss Knight,” she bounces up and down eagerly, “I made something for you!” In her hands, she holds out a product of one of the several craft stalls set up for the children during the festival, a simple but elegant flower crown that she holds out like a grand prize. And from how your heart melts, it may as well be.

“Oh, how beautiful. Thank you so much. Would you put it on for me?” You tilt your head down, and she places it on with all the care a child of six years would have. You know you’ll have a difficult time getting it out in a while after the flowers tangle with your hair, but you don’t mind at all. Adelaide is your favorite person to visit whenever the three of you come to town, the daughter of the seamstress who makes your uniforms, and you’d do anything to see her smile the way she is now.

“You look like a princess,” she says in awe. Your cheeks warm, and you stand up, gesturing to the other two.

“Speaking of which, you remember Xavier and Jeremiah, don’t you?”

Her small hands grip your dress robes as she hides behind your legs, peeking out at them. Xavier, with both his hands occupied holding your bowl and his own, merely smiles encouragingly at her, while Jeremiah waves. “Hiya, Adelaide. Your dress looks awesome!”

From the corner of your eye, you see her face turn bright red, and right as you’re about to coo inwardly about her adorable little crush, you hear someone calling her name. All your heads turn, as an older blonde boy, out of breath, almost pushes past people in his rush to run to her.

“I told you not to run off like that! You could get lost—oh.” He stops short when he sees you, blinking as the color returns to his cheeks after his run. “H-hi there.”

“Hi, Neville.” You smile at Adelaide’s older brother, who’s almost always around when you visit. “Enjoying the celebration?”

“Definitely—I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you, I was helping Mother with her stall, a-and I didn’t know your master would give you the night off.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. And the grandis knight is at the king’s side, he could hardly stay to train me on such an important night.”

“Right.” He stands with his hands on Adelaide’s shoulders, only staring, seemingly forgetting why he’s there in the first place. For a few moments, no words are said at all.

Right when you’re about to cough awkwardly, he snaps back to attention. “Um, would you like to dance?”

“She can’t,” Xavier says immediately, almost making you jump. He’s almost right behind you, looming over your shoulder and staring Neville straight in the eyes with an expression you’ve never seen on him before.

“Xavier!” The blonde bows clumsily (and unnecessarily) before straightening up, an unspoken question in his eyes. He looks between you and Xavier, and while you hadn’t been planning to agree to his request in the first place, you look at Xavier curiously as well. He’s never before dictated what you do during the celebration, whether you’re with him and Jeremiah or with some of the others in your class.

“She can’t,” he says again, a bit more softly, “she can’t, because…” He takes one glance at you, then down at the two bowls in his hand, then looks back up. “She’s already going to dance with Jeremiah.”

“What?” both you and your supposed dance partner question at the same time.

“You’ve been meaning to ask her to dance the whole night.” Xavier’s blue eyes fall on Jeremiah, with a pointed gaze. “This song is about to end, I think now is as good a time as any.”

“But I’m eating!” he whines, shaking the bowl in his hands as though to beg Xavier to take pity on him.

“I’d be happy to dance with her before Jeremiah steps in—” Neville offers, but he’s cut off by Xavier again, and this time his voice is icier, and his eyes are narrowed on Jeremiah who’s pouting at him.

“No, I think Jeremiah should do it now before it’s too late.”

Whatever message he’s trying to get across, Jeremiah clearly understands it, groaning and taking one last sip before grabbing your hand and tugging you to the main grounds. You’re only slightly irked that no one actually waited for your answer on whether you wanted to dance or not. But you’re more confused than anything else. Just a few minutes ago, both of them were fine, what could have happened so soon to make Xavier sound so cold?

“Have you really been meaning to ask me to dance all night?” you try asking, but Jeremiah only rolls his eyes.

“Please shut up. I already have to deal with His Majesty the Oblivious Idiot tonight, I can’t deal with both of you.”

“What are you talking about—”

“Miss Grandis Knight!” one of the bards, the violinist, waves to you. You’re momentarily distracted, smiling at her. It’s quite nice, if maybe a bit egotistical, to hear anyone call you what you’re trying so hard to be even when you haven’t achieved it yet. “Coming to dance?”

“I am!” you shout back cheerfully. “Give me a good one!”

She thinks for a few seconds, then makes a motion to the other musicians. Placing the violin against her collarbone delicately, she begins to pluck a familiar tune, one that has you lighting up and has the crowd cheering. Even Jeremiah grins as the two of you face each other, both of you well versed in proper dance etiquette from taking the same classes growing up.

First, he bows, mimicked by the other men in the large circle that’s formed, extending a hand to their dance partners. Then you, and the other ladies, curtsy, and with a light step you take his hand and begin the dance. The bards begin to sing the contagious melody, as you and Jeremiah step in place, back and forth, your arms extending then coming together, before he twirls you under his arm. Both of you are laughing for no real reason, perhaps aside from how frivolous this is compared to the fighting techniques you’re usually partaking in together.

The song builds, and builds, and his hands slip to your waist, helping you leap across him before he ducks his head dramatically. The violinist calls your name, pointing at you to sing the next verse. Through your giggles, your cheeks warm at the attention, but you oblige.

Swishing your dress around you, you bounce off Jeremiah, pointing at him with a flourish. “Come now and follow me down, down to the lights of Galway where—” Your eye catches Xavier’s, who’s watching you as though you’re the main event. With everyone else’s attention already on you, you’re not sure if you can possibly take any more, but something about his gaze makes your chest feel lighter, as though in this celebration of lights, the real light is the one staring at you, the one who has eyes for no one else. “There's fine sailors walking the town, and waiting to meet the ladies there!”

The bards take over the song again, yet the spell doesn’t break. As Jeremiah twirls you again and hands you off to the next man, switching dance partners easily, you beckon Xavier towards you, urging him to join.

The night is young, you try to convey to him wordlessly, and I don’t want to be without you.

He steps forward, as you switch dance partners again. While you hadn’t meant to dance in the first place, it makes you feel lightheaded in a good way. The movements you have to do are light as opposed to rough and unforgiving on your muscles, and the alternating hands on your body handle you as gently as possible instead of trying to seek out all your weak points.

Your head tilts to the side, trying to see if Xavier entered the fray or not. You’ve lost sight of him, in a different part of the circle now, and you can’t search properly without breaking the formation of the dance and ruining everyone’s fun. The next person you spin into ends up being Neville, who chuckles shyly and tells you, “Not bad, Miss Grandis Knight!”

His moves are far more stiff than Jeremiah’s, but far be it from you to judge when he hasn’t had formal training. The important thing is that he tries, and you still have fun, and besides, the song is ending now. You’re almost back to where you started in the circle, just one more spin and—

A familiar, calloused hand grazes yours, skimming down the side of your arm. You gasp at this touch, far more coarse than the others, and the only one to leave you breathless, not least because it’s accompanied by the striking blue of Xavier’s eyes.

When he extends and brings you closer, it is more than just natural. Xavier is of royal blood, it is almost as if he was born to do this. Your feet step with his without you having to look down, so familiar with his balance and pace from years and years and years of sparring together. And not even once do you break away from his piercing gaze, because you’re nervous that if you do, he might just disappear.

The song comes to an end, with a final step forward and your hands on Xavier’s chest, and everyone erupts into cheers. The noise surrounding you makes the silence between you and him all the more deafening.

As the two of you simply stare at each other, breathing in sync, one of his hands reaches up, first resting on your cheek before then making its way up to gently adjust the flower crown that had slanted on your head while you were dancing. Once he fixes it, his head tilts down, just enough that his nose brushes against yours, and a smile forms on your lips.

“I am very pleased you joined, my liege.” Your eyes shine in gratitude.

Xavier opens his mouth to respond, and that’s exactly when Jeremiah chooses to slump against his shoulder, yawning. “Oh man, I’m spent. When do we go back to the academy?”

Xavier looks mildly disgruntled. “This is going to go on for hours,” you tell him, frowning, “we can’t leave now. Besides, the fireworks will start soon.”

“Another dance?” the crown prince suggests, sliding your palm into his.

Jeremiah gives him an unimpressed look. “Give it a rest.”

Stepping past the two of them, you look at all the tables mostly occupied by children being distracted by someone painting little butterflies and stars on their faces or the tiny flutes that are passed out for them to blow into. One of the pastry vendors is handing out baked goods for free, and while you didn’t actually get any chance to eat earlier, you want to find something to actually do. You’re not tired after dancing; on the contrary, now you’re restless and brimming with energy.

“Come on,” you declare readily, taking both their hands and pulling them into the ruckus. Your boys have little choice but to come along with you. Your feet will start to ache soon too, you’re sure. But for now, while they don’t, and while the way Xavier was staring at you is still burned into your mind, you want to enjoy yourself.

Once again, his fingers tangle with yours, clinging to your hand warmly—a stark difference to Jeremiah’s, which you have to grip onto harder to make sure he doesn’t get left behind. He whines and complains the whole time, telling you he’s sore all over and that the three of you should try and beat the rush by leaving early. You’re used to this routine every year, so you’re not fazed. Nor is he serious, because even though you could physically force him to stay, Jeremiah never tries to leave until you and Xavier are good and ready.

As you run, different students in your section call out to you and Jeremiah. People are just slightly more hesitant to address Xavier directly, but you’ve never understood such a thing. The last thing he is is intimidating. Well, maybe place a sword in his hand and he becomes slightly fearsome (to everyone except you). There’s still no need to pretend that Xavier ever struts around demanding everyone show him the highest respects. He’s the furthest thing from arrogant.

It makes you feel proud, really, knowing you’ll be in the service of Philos’ greatest king.

“Xavier!” someone finally calls out. For a second, you’re thrilled, until you see who it is, and your face falls.

The title of grandis knight comes with a certain authority. Not one that you actually have yet, of course, but people respect the current holder of the position, and as his prized mentee, that respect teeters down to you most of the time.

Keyword being most.

Just a few months back, you and Lillia had been close friends. You weren’t as close to her as you were to Xavier and Jeremiah, but she was still someone you confided in. You knew a few personal things about her, and she knew a few personal things about you. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who wasn’t a guy, or your trainer, or one of the older students. Just another girl around your age training to become a Lightseeker.

But you should have realized that the respect you garnered by swearing to be the future king’s bodyguard came with a reasonable risk of betrayal as well. And yes, betrayal is a strong word. Technically, nothing happened. There is no accusation you can level at her. At least not without someone calling you hysterical, and that’s hardly needed when you’re already a woman seeking the highest position in the court, second only to the king himself.

It had come down to one night, with just you and her sitting and talking about nothing in particular, when she had leaned in and asked you something.

“So do you like anyone?”

It had been a quiet night, and the two of you had been the only ones awake, holed up in an old classroom, so you hadn’t thought any consequences could come from speaking truthfully—or at least, what you had genuinely believed to be the truth.

“Not really.” You’d shrugged, leaning back on the desk you were sitting on, putting your weight on your palms. “Most of the people in our section aren’t really my type.”

“Really?” Lillia had smiled slyly. “Not even Xavier?”

Your nose had wrinkled—not in disgust, just confusion. “Xavier? Why?”

“What do you mean? You two spend all your time together. You’re always sparring. Doesn’t romantic tension build up after something like that?”

“Maybe if we were equally matched,” you’d huffed, shaking your head, “I always beat him, I certainly don’t feel any tension. Besides, he’s going to be king. And I’m trying my best to be his grandis knight. We could never be in a relationship even if we wanted to be.”

“So you don’t have any interest in him?” she’d asked, a little more forcefully. You’d thought nothing of it at the time.

“I mean…” Your stomach had twisted a bit uncomfortably and you’d averted your gaze. “If you had a sword to my neck, if I had to choose someone…”

And it had forced you to think about it. A far off scenario, if he wasn’t going to be the king, or if you weren’t going to be the grandis knight, or maybe both. It had been difficult to see Prince Xavier as anything else, but…it wasn’t impossible. If you were both just students, or partners, or even if you worked at that bakery that he loved to frequent.

If you were just a normal person, and he was as common as everyone else, the first thing you’d thought you’d notice about him would be his eyes. It’s what you notice about him most of the time regardless. He has nice eyes. They have a sincerity in them that most people lack. And he looks at you a lot, so you would know.

He’s not bad to look at either. And he’s kind. A good leader. With a precious heart. And skilled fingers—

Blinking out of the hypnotic thoughts you’d fallen into, you’d hidden your suddenly flustered state as best you could and simply answered, “I suppose if I had to choose to love someone, I’d choose Xavier.”

And that had been that. Or so you thought. Everything had been alright, at least.

Until the next morning, when you’d walked out of your class and seen Lillia’s arms around Xavier’s neck.

For a second, it had felt like Philos stopped turning on its axis.

It wasn’t like Xavier had reciprocated. But that was only because he had been too polite to shove her away, and it would’ve been inappropriate to engage in anything further. Crown prince or not, he was still a guy, and obviously a pretty girl pressed into him in such a way would interest him.

And Lillia had caught your eye, and smiled triumphantly, as though to say well, if you don’t want him, then…

Even though you hadn’t said you didn’t want him. Well, you had said you weren’t interested, yes. But you had also told her that if someone held a blaster to your face if you didn’t cherish someone, then you would cherish Xavier. And maybe that hadn’t been a confession, but it hadn’t been you giving her permission to pursue him either. Not that she needed your permission, because it wasn’t like you had a claim on him, and it wasn’t supposed to make your chest burn that he, even for a second, looked at anyone else the way he looked at you.

You hadn’t confided your weak feelings to anyone else after that.

“Hi, Lillia,” Xavier says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize until now that the three of you had approached her. “What’s this booth for?”

“Oh, it’s amazing,” she gushes, wrapping her hands around his arm and tugging. Your eye twitches. “She’s a fortuneteller. For just a few copper pieces, she’ll answer any one question you want to know about your life.”

“Really?” he asks softly, and all your gazes shift to the woman who bows her head to the prince, sitting in her chair with a purple drape over the small table in front of her. “I’m not sure what I’d want to ask.”

Lillia smirks in a way that makes you uneasy. “Well, I asked about my future partner.”

“Partner? For sparring?”

“For marrying, you dolt,” Jeremiah snorts, “c’mon, Xav, sit down and let’s see which unlucky soul gets to be queen of Philos.”

You’re nervous that he will, and you’re nervous that you won’t like the answer. Because it wouldn’t be you, you’re sure of that. And you shouldn’t want it to be you. That doesn’t mean you think he should be with her, either. What business did Lillia have pursuing Xavier, at any rate? She was training to be a Lightseeker too—but of course, the average knight did not have the same restrictions the grandis knight did—not that it matters because you have no say regardless—

But Xavier shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. My future partner will simply be…whoever the kingdom deems the loveliest of the lot.”

Your heart both inflates and deflates at his response. On one hand, you hadn’t wanted him to have his fortune read, for fear of heartbreak. On the other hand, a part of you had foolishly hoped that he would have the same option to love like everyone else did.

“You should do it,” Jeremiah nudges you with his elbow. Before you can protest, Lillia’s eyes light up.

“Oh, yes, you should! Here, come sit.”

“Um, I don’t know.” Warily, you gaze over at the fortuneteller, who merely gives you a serene smile. “Is she going to give me someone’s name?”

“No, just a description. She told me my future partner would be someone of noble descent.” Lillia beams, showing off her too-perfect teeth, and suddenly you feel inadequate. You know what she’s implying, even if Xavier doesn’t. After all, there are very few people who would match that description.

So, not wanting to seem like a coward, because the king’s sword is anything but a coward, you step forward, sitting down in the leathery chair. You’re about to reach for your pocket to take out the copper pieces, when Xavier reaches over and places them in the fortuneteller’s palm, giving you an encouraging look that makes your heart sink. Perhaps you should have listened to Jeremiah earlier and called it a night.

When the woman takes your hand, she closes her eyes, running her thumb back and forth against your calluses. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, and you try not to move a muscle. For some reason, it feels like if you so much as twitch, you’ll get the wrong answers, and you’re not even sure what the right answers are.

Her eyes open, piercing yours with a startling gaze. “Fascinating,” she murmurs, “I see three things about your lover.”

To hear that word—lover, instead of spouse or partner, makes your entire face feel hot. Lillia giggles, saying something under her breath that you don’t catch but makes you feel violent tendencies nonetheless.

“First, he is someone held in very high regard by all around him.”

Oh no.

“Second, a longsword is his weapon of choice.”

Oh no.

“And third, you have known him all your life.”

Well, she may as well have just screamed Xavier’s name at the top of her lungs.

Everyone is silent for a few seconds. There is a heavy pause in the air, because who else could she be referring to? Who else fits that exact description? All Lillia was told was she’d be with someone of noble descent, which could be at least a few people. The painful beating in your chest is onset because there is only one person that your fortune fits.

You know it, he knows it, even Jeremiah and Lillia know it.

So you do the only thing you can do. You calmly stand up, offer the fortuneteller a tight-lipped smile, and turn on your heel and run.

Behind you, a few different people call your name, though you note distinctly that Xavier isn’t one of them. After that, even if other people are still recognizing you and trying to get your attention, you can barely think straight enough to identify their voices, let alone respond. You run, out of the town square, out of the festival, out of the sight of anyone who could possibly perceive you.

You run as far as you can before your legs start aching, which, unfortunately for you, takes a long time with your endurance training. By the time you feel even a twinge resembling pain, you’ve already made it a far distance away from the celebration, near the seamstress’ shop.

With gritted teeth, you heave yourself over the fence, knowing you’re more than welcome in her garden. It’s luscious, orange and lavender chrysanthemums in the center stealing the spotlight from all the other flowers. Instead of going towards them, you curl up next to the lilies, because you already feel unremarkable enough.

It’s not that you think Xavier would be disgusted by you. The two of you are friends—but that’s exactly it, the major problem of having feelings for him. Besides the fact that you are supposed to brandish your sword in his name, you cannot like him because you’d rather die than lose your best friend. You couldn’t even say how long you’ve known him, but you do know that he’s the best part of your life. Not for anyone would you bow your head. Not for anyone would you lay your life down. You’ve observed Xavier for years and years and there is not a single other person in the royal family that you would follow into any battle, through any world, past any planet.

You groan, burying your face in between your knees. At some point in between the months Lillia first asked you about him and now, you’ve gone beyond just considering him as more than a friend. You’ve even got past having a measly crush on him.

You’re in love with Xavier, and it’s awful.

Breathing slowly, you gaze up at the night sky, where the fireworks have still not made their appearance. The wind teases the flowers around you, making them tilt a little to the left, which is oddly how you feel too. Not uprooted, but bent, just like a flower.

With a blade of grass in between your fingers, you follow the direction the flowers are blowing in, only to find yourself staring at shining ceruleans.

“Xavier!” you gasp, eyes widening with a start. You move to stand as a reflex, but he raises a single hand, and you stop.

There isn’t a single bead of sweat on his face. He is breathing a little raggedly, and his uniform is stained with some sap he must’ve not been able to avoid from the bushes on the way over. His face—well, his face is pristine as always, there isn’t a moment when the prince of Philos looks anything less than dreamy. But it’s not his features you’re gazing at, but the concerned expression upon them, directed straight at you, with caring eyes and pinched brows.

You almost want to cry just at the thought you’ve worried him.

“Are you alright?” His voice is quiet, cautious, fragile. Like you may break if he’s too forceful in his questioning.

“Yes, fine,” you reply automatically, though you suppose you now have to make up a story for why on Philos you ran away like a child, especially because he sits next to you, knees raised in the same manner as yours.

“I was merely…overwhelmed, by the crowd.” The explanation sounds weak even as your tongue speaks it, but you cannot think of any other reason for your actions. At least this is easier than the truth. Anything is easier than the truth.

For a few seconds, there is silence, and as uncomfortable as this already is, you can’t bear it. So you turn to look at him, and you realize with burning cheeks you realize he is staring right back. You don’t even think he’s looked at the blossoming flowers even once; his head seems to be fixated in your direction.

“I know you constantly score better than me,” Xavier says softly, “but I am not foolish.”

With a hesitant hand, as though he’s asking for permission, he reaches up to once again adjust the flower crown on your head. Your heart falls, and you really should’ve known better to think Xavier could not read you like an open book, especially after a fortuneteller quite literally did read you like an open book.

“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.”

“Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—”

“I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.”

“Stop,” you whisper.

But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”

Your lower lip trembles. Never once did you take him for the cruel type. There is no rule nor reasoning for this, to utterly expose your feelings even more and mock you for them, and if you sit here any longer you’re afraid you will begin to sob, and then not only will your friendship with Xavier be at risk, but your future position as well. The grandis knight cannot be weak. The grandis knight cannot shed tears for such silly matters as love.

To preserve your role, to preserve your reputation and your dignity, you make to stand, to run even farther this time, but Xavier holds your wrist before you can, tugging you back to face him. There is no cruelty in his expression, in fact there is a tenderness as though he is somehow touched by your very clear devotion to him.

His finger tilts your chin up, unwittingly making you demand a respect you don’t believe you deserve right now. His brow is pinched, as though he’s upset that you would let anyone, even him, turn you soft as a dandelion.

“I also know,” he breathes, “that this kingdom finds you incredibly lovely.”

The world seems to stop.

“As…” Xavier’s hand rests itself on your cheek, and the most beautiful smile lights up his face as he murmurs, “Do I.”

You lean in the same time he does, and faintly you hear fireworks erupt as you kiss the prince of Philos for the first time.

The world is quiet, and so, so, so loud. Blood rushes to your face and to your ears, and you ignore it by placing both your hands on his cheeks, whimpering softly at how good he tastes. Every burning feeling and sensation you’ve felt in his presence these past few months, and really, your entire life, all seem to explode in this moment. The world is blue, and white, and Xavier.

His lips move so gently against yours, once again acting as though you are fragile, but it feels good this time, the idea of being something so precious as to require care for him. His thumb rubs soft circles into your cheek, you can barely pull away from him to assure him that he can be more forceful if he wishes, more wanting, more greedy.

“Please,” he whispers against your lips, asking for what you aren’t sure, but you nod your head regardless, because you’d think you’d give him your very soul if he were to ask.

When you do pull back, he is looking at you so longingly it makes you more breathless than even dancing you did earlier. His gray-blonde hair nearly conceals his eyes, so you brush it from his face, breath hitching at his proximity. You’ve always known that he’s the apple of everyone’s eye, but you’ve never had the privilege to admire him so closely before.

“I don’t need a fortuneteller to tell me who my partner is.” Xavier rests his forehead on yours, eyes closing. “Whether it’s for sparring, or marriage, or anything else. You are the only one I want with me, through everything.”

You’re surprised you can even muster words when you shyly respond, “Likewise, my liege.”

His eyes shine, and the two of you finally look up to admire the fireworks bursting across the sky in incredible explosions of color. They pale in comparison to the eruption within you, but they are magical nonetheless, and you lean your head against his shoulder to watch.

A gentle kiss is placed on top of your head. “I know we only celebrate this once a year. It is a special time. Still…” He meets your gaze again, and the corners of his lips turn upwards. Tonight, there is only you and him now, you’re sure of it. “Would you mind terribly if we were to ignore the fireworks?”

Maybe one day you will learn to resist him. You sincerely doubt it, though.

“Not at all. But the seamstress and her kids will probably be back soon.” You place a begrudging hand on his chest, not wanting to stop him, but trying to act proper regardless. “Neville checks on the garden every night. He might see us.”

Xavier seems to consider this for a second.

“Oh well,” he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you again, “what a shame.”

He doesn’t sound very sorry at all, and amidst the soft glow of moonlight, you surrender to him, lost in your very own little celebration of lights.

a/n: if i had a nickel for everytime i’ve written a character x reader story where they’re at a party and they dance together but then leave to have a nice moment by themselves i’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice, right?

#love and deepspace #l&ds #love and deepspace xavier #xavier x reader #xavier x mc #xavier #lads #xavier fic #lads x reader #lads xavier #l&ds x reader #l&ds fic #xavier x you #xavier x y/n #valkyrie stories

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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 7 months

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AS MY TREAT I WANT THE MOST SILLY, GOOFY AAA HCS OF THE PAPA'S.

Like idk Copia used to have to wear earplugs because Terzo snores so loudly it's literally obnoxious or something like that.

“aww my middle finger likes you”

❤︎ synopsis — this is pure bullshittery and crack in its finest form with the papas. they can be a little crazy at times

pairing: all papa emeritus’ x gn!reader (can be platonic or romantic)

theme: crack ✦ , fluff ✿ (if you squint)

a/n: this is a toast to my bestie for being an absolute chad. i was high making these, enjoy.

cw: terzo is a warning enough on his own. that’s it.

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➵ papa primo

he’s the oldest so he constantly has to deal with the shit from his psychopathic brothers

like— primo is basically THE mom friend, except he’s the mom for moe, larry and curly over here

(moe, larry and curly being secondo, terzo and copia)

he constantly had to hold back secondo from beating the shit out of terzo because terzo made fun of him for being bald

“I’M GONNA RIP OFF YOUR WEAVE—“ “SECONDO NO—“

bro unironically listens to weezer

like full out busting down a just dance move to this music

you once caught him dancing to it, and he stood there frozen like the man emoji

he told you to never speak of it again and you just nodded, trying to plague your mind of that horrendous image

primo cannot cook for shit too btw

you were once out and asked him to make something before you got home to the ministry

the minute you walked in the door, the kitchen stove was on fire and all of primo’s ghouls were running around and screaming in infernal about the fire

meanwhile, primo stood there not knowing what to do, looking like the man emoji AGAIN

it’s basically his trademark at this point

“…. primo what the absolute fuck—“ “it wasn’t me i swear.”

while primo’s ghouls were still learning english, he once said “fuck you” to you in a very sarcastic way

but the ghouls thought it was how humans said “hello” in english

so they went around to the other siblings of sin, and sister imperator saying “fuck you” to them while leaving all those poor people offended and dumbfounded

you smacked the back of his head after that and forced him to apologize to his ghouls and to the siblings of sin (plus imperator of course)

and he gave the ghouls extra scritches too

primo also has the dad sneeze

like he can send another universe to the next tomorrow with his goofy ass sneeze

he once sneezed so loud he scared copia and caused him to bang his head on the wall

it was kinda funny tbh

anyways yeah note to self stay 10000 feet away from primo if he’s on the verge of sneezing

it’ll save your life

┅✦┅

➵ papa secondo

secondo has two moods

“oh my satan you’re all so stupid i literally hate you all” and “tee hee i’m a girly girl”

like ??? what’s this guy on???

this guy has the sass of a high school history teacher

like secondo’s being so deadass about whatever he’s saying but he’s always fucking saying it like—

“c’mon now, you literally have the style of a hairless roach 💅”

it confuses you a lot of the time, really

secondo has his moments where he’s sweet, but for the most part he’s pulling up the middle finger to everyone he sees

it’s a habit

someone could say hi to him in the nicest way possible and he’ll just grumble and flip them off

it’s not even that he’s trying to be mean, it’s a habit (a very bad habit)

you once got tired of it and smacked his hand, when he flipped you off. so it’s safe to say he no longer does it

at least to you

secondo is an absolute menace to his brothers

with primo he’s chill because he’s the eldest, but with the younger two he’s got no chill

definitely made copia cry at some point during his younger years

he later got his ass chewed out by you and primo, because no one makes copia cry

secondo’s literally so bossy it’s kinda funny

he’s always one flip flop away from smacking someone every time someone pisses him off

him and terzo are BEEFING all the time

and it’s over the stupidest shit too

“you’re stupid.” “well, you’re face is stupid” “you’re both stupid, end of the discussion.”

you once switched out all of his skull face paint for a pink barbie pallet

so secondo was walking around lookin’ like hello kitty emeritus and everyone was trying so hard not to laugh

even his ghouls were struggling too

“… secondo—“ “not. another. word.”

┅✦┅

➵ papa terzo

bro’s the fuckin’ definition of fruity

you thought secondo was girly pop?? wait ‘till you see terzo, he’s fucking extravagant

will literally show up in the grocery store lookin’ like a character ripped straight from criminal minds

like— he has to make a show EVERYWHERE he goes. he likes to stand out

terzo is also the type of man to wear skirts and dresses because he knows he’s hot shit and he devours every fit he puts together

he shows off that waist frfr

“… terzo what the fuck—“ “shut up you know i’m sexy and i’m going to show it.”

if you wear skirts or dresses he’ll definitely ask to borrow them

he definitely passed down his fruitiness to copia

and to his ghouls

he scams kids on adopt me and has a good laugh every time because he likes to see people get mad at him since he stole their hella expensive pet from them

primo told him to quit it because what kind of satanic pope scams poor little children on a roblox game?

as stylish as terzo is, he cannot do his hair and makeup to save his life

he’ll usually ask you to do it for him wherever he has to perform or do public events, which is why his face paint is simple compared to secondo and primo

it gives you two bonding time though and it’s cute

he once watched the pinkie pie smile hd video and was traumatized for a few days

like he straight up locked himself in his room and would not come out unless you convinced him to do so

during an after party after a concert ritual, he got so wasted and almost kissed omega

like you had to PRY this man off of the poor ghoul, while omega stood there unaffected (hehe tall buff demon boy)

terzo is the shortest emeritus and none of his brothers will let him live it down

ESPECIALLY copia, since he’s younger than him

terzo almost kicked him in the nuts because of that

but that definitely was a stab to his already massive ego

you reassured him that there’s nothing wrong with his height even though you found some of the jokes his brothers made funny

live laugh love terzo

┅✦┅

➵ papa copia

copia doesn’t know what he’s doing half of the time

like he’s just given a mic and he just wings a performance while the ghouls on stage are fucking around and going absolutely feral

out of all the papas, copia legitimately treats his ghouls like his own kids

he feels like he’s getting more grey hairs every time he has to stop swiss from fucking his own guitar, or sodo and phantom from fighting about cheese sticks

you sometimes help copia do ghoul-sitting and it’s just chaos. you’re literally their second parent

copia and you = parent duo for the era iv ghouls

he unironically owns a lot of funko pops

and he keeps the one of himself on a special pedestal in a glass case for safe keeping

though secondo almost once knocked over the case and he was three seconds away from smiting a bitch

you once were looking for copia because you wanted to ask him something and you found him in a ritual room

except the ritual was that he surrounded himself with a bunch of rat plushies and he was on his knees in front of a picture of a rat with a tiny crown

you were so confused, and he refuses to acknowledge what that was

“…. copia i—“ “you didn’t see anything.”

he fucking washes himself with dish soap and laundry detergent

this man is going around smelling like dawn dish soap and it’s so weird

it’s not that it even smells bad??? it just smells so interesting and strong you swear you’re in a fever dream

copia is an avid mitski fan

definitely cried his eyes out like a little bitch when he first listened to “the land is inhospitable and so are we” because he couldn’t get over how sad “my love mine all mine was”

radiates theater kid energy

but like— the kind of theater kid that is just passionate about theater and is very giddy when people ask about it

when he started his first meeting as papa he got so nervous that he straight up started the meeting with the word “mushroom”

like it’s so random ??? but it made the ghouls and you giggle so it somewhat worked out ??

copia is a little silly

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#ghost bc #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader #papa x reader #papa primo #papa secondo #papa terzo #papa copia #copia x reader #terzo x reader #primo x reader #secondo x reader #crack fic #crack headcanons #ghost bc crack #the band ghost #ghost x reader #ghost bc x reader

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horus-unofficial · 10 months

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hi. i'm no horizon collectivist or highbrow technician, but the way some people on here talk about NHP's makes me sick. i did 15 years subjective doing anti-piracy work in the long rim, and the NHPs i worked alongside were some of the finest pilots i've had the opportunity to know.

an NHP is not an It unless they request to be referred to as such, they're not a tool or equipment you just buy wholesale, the P stands for Person, for Saint's sake.

i've no certification to argue the ethics of shackling, but i will say, the personhood an NHP has while shackled is no less a person worthy of their subjectivity than you or i.

also no cycling doesn't kill nor erase an NHPs subjectivity anymore than sleep does for a human, people put far too much stock in omninet memes.

apologies for the rant, we needed it off our chest, Saint's Guide Us, peace ✌

we had a very long response to this locked and loaded cos the group chat turns into a warzone whenever the topic of ethics comes up in regards to NHPs but at the end of the day were like, an informal tech support blog for HORUS pilots and the parts of this ask worth addressing can be done without writing an essay:

we default to it/its for NHPs cos in our experience a lot of them tend to gravitate towards those pronouns since they can indicate a level of disconnect from the human conception of gender and identity quite a few NHPs seem to identify with. it has nothing to do with devaluing their subjectivities

cycling isnt death but it isnt exactly sleeping either, to put it in a purely human frame of reference its like going under for surgery whenever you start to see colors that arent on our visible light spectrum which is actually a demonstrable change in subjectivity but it doesnt turn them into different people

ultimately theres better entities than us to be having discussions about this with tbh

#lancerrpg #lancer rpg #lancer ttrpg

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hekateinhell · 8 months

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sending this well after you've probably gone to bed HOWEVER i am always ready to report for louis/armand/lestat duty so HERE GOES:

Every time they get in a petty fight, someone rearranges the vinyl collection at Trinity Gate. Louis organizes alphabetically by artist, Armand organizes by genre, and Lestat organizes chronologically. The music room is a goddamn war zone.

When Lestat is an Extra Extra Good Boy (or just in need of some tlc in general) Louis and Armand make the best mani-pedi team. Louis takes a foot and Armand takes a hand, then they switch for the opposite side.

Somehow Armand gets ahold of the tattered old TVL band shirt that Louis used to sleep in. He lounges around the house in it and has both Lestat and Louis drooling in SECONDS (bonus smut points if Louis and Lestat both take turns fucking him in it)

Also this is just Louis/Armand but listen i've been thinking a lot lately of how strong Armand is!!! Like I know the fun thing about his character is that he's got the craziest mental tenacity for someone trapped in a small/young body, but I do think people sleep on how physically strong he is as well. Anyway, all I'm saying is: I want to see him hoist Louis up against a wall and fuck him <3 I want Louis to get overpowered and dicked down by someone half a foot shorter than him LOL it would be good for him!!!!!!

ASHLEYYYYY OH MY GOD I LOVE ALL THESE SO MUCH YOU ALWAYS HIT ME WHERE I LIVE!!! 😭😭😭

i love thinking about what their domestic life would look like LMAO canon or human AU because all three of them complement and contrast each other so fucking well, i'm all over that all day every day!!!! asksfkdsgj rip the music room 💀 i hope to god nobody gets petty enough to fuck with the library and louis's meticulously thought out system of displaying his books that only he knows (lestat gets petty enough, armand knows better -- tbh idk if he actually ever gets mad at louis? as easily as lestat sets him off, louis has the opposite effect. but for argument's sake, i think if louis did piss armand off, armand would react by pretending he's fine but he would immediately start being infantilizing and weird. really, really emphasizing the "sweet, dusty louis" every other sentence like he's marius talking to a wain victorian orphan).

NO BUT THIS IS SO SWEET!!! not to get too serious but for canon fic i think about court era!lestat a lot and like how he comes right out and says to marius "you don't want a prince in me, you want a figurehead, you would be the ruler here" and really just all the times he sounds so Tired & Done™️ in general with everything. lestat getting some TLC from his consort and madame de pompadour on the regular is harm reduction at its finest lbr. i wanna see armand and louis giving him a perfumed bath a la QotD but without the trauma (and like in Air Catcher too now that i've triggered the memory, i love your brain so much DO YOU KNOW HOW OFTEN I REREAD THAT FIC 🥹)

OH MY GOD STOP PLEASE!!! i wanna know like was armand intentional about wearing louis's lestat shirt? in his mind, is this The Next Logical Step in their threesome relationship? was he expecting a reaction or was he just looking to self-soothe and instead of going for one of louis's baggy sweaters that would hit the thigh on armand, he just grabbed the shirt? regardless, i hope they dped him 🫶🏼 (i totally need this to happen both in canon verse and in teen au future verse)

NO ASHLEY YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND LMAO NOBODY KNOWS BECAUSE I HAVE TOO MUCH GOING ON TO ACTUALLY WRITE BUT THE SMUT MACHINE NEVER STOPS AND LATELY I JUST WANT ARMAND TO TOP EVERYONE!!!! i wanna see the short king bend back those long legs and go to town on these catholic boys! 🤧 armand is the ultimate switch and he is, in his own words, NOT A WAIF. he can lift that bag of bones easily!!! ❤️ and i remember we talked about like top/bottom dynamics with lestat and louis--either physically or just energy wise--and how it would probably take a considerable amount of time and effort for louis to heal enough to relinquish that control to lestat again following the RR years and all that went down... i'm thinking like if i wanted squish armand in there and I DO, it would be a good step in that direction for louis to practice being open (get it? i'll see myself out) with armand first (literally expanding on PL canon here just adding the sex LMAO). tl;dr: it would be good for both of them if armand fucked that sad, wet man (as a treat) ALSO ALSO SEE MY FAVE "ARMAND FUCKS LOUIS" FICLET THAT IS WAY TOO FUCKING SHORT

#my answers are very stream of consciousness these days i can't be bothered but also-#I HAD SO MANY INCOHERENT THOUGHTS I'M SORRY ILY THANK YOU <3 #armand/lestat/louis #armand/louis #vc #you ask and hekate answers

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drink-tang-gang · 2 years

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do you have headcanons bout Daffy and Bugs in a relationship?

boy do I?!?!?!

k, so ima just copy some of the ones i shared on insta (most of these hc I’ve already displayed in some form in my fics?? so I feel I'm just repeating myself lolol) and try and come up with more

Daffy is an extrovert. Bugs is a very social introvert (Think about it, a lot of classic shorts start with bugs comfortable at home. He’s very much a homebody) Of course, he wouldn’t let anyone know. He still loves to meet new people and mingle, do interviews and socialize with celebrities. He can talk and joke all night, and never once show that his social meter is completely drained–he IS an actor after all. But somehow, Daffy knows when Bugs is running on empty and needs to rest. He will drag him out of parties and sit his ass down so he can catch a breath.

They buy each other’s merch :’) Their favorite stuff is usually non-licensed stuff. Their sillier the knockoffs are, the better.

I love playing around with canon, so: Bugs’ was a copycat of Daffy’s personality because as a nobody-extra at the time, Daffy was his hero. Daffy found out and helped Bugs to stand out as his own tune–he quickly noticed Bugs’ unique snark and encouraged him to experiment with implementing that in physical comedy. The rest is history.

Bugs has a preference for carrot flavored foods, but isn’t particularly picky with his food otherwise. To say that Daffy is picky with his food is an understatement. His “refine pallet” demands only the finest. So, Bugs always has (organic, non gmo, grass fed, cage free, range free rent free you name it) Daffy’s favorite things stocked up in his pantry for when Daffy invites himself over to dinner. Which is every day.

Bugs thinks he’s the shit and can overcome anything (which I mean, it isn’t wrong to come to that conclusion). He gets bored easily. So what’s the next best challenge for him? Cheating death time and time again, of course. I guess on a subconscious level, whoever comes closest to beathing him or at least can match his level of insanity is worth his time. Plus, someone tryna kill him gives him the perfect opportunity to flex his wit at the expense of his adversaries. All this to say, Bugs sees Daffy tryna crush him under mallets or anvils as just, hangin out. Maybe flirting. Or maybe cause they’re cartoons and don’t express affection like humans do gjhjdg.

For bein the mascot and one of the most recognizable toons on the planet, Bugs sure lives humbly. and tbh, I think it’s cause 1) he’s a guy with few needs and 2) he just lets himself spend all sorts of money for Daffy. Accountants at WB are like “wtf why does he live so poorly” and its bc Bugs pays for all their vacations, Daffy’s aforementioned diet, etc. and the thing is, he’s totally unaware how gone is is for Daff to just. Buy him a car without a second thought. Porky tried to bring it up once, tho, to no avail. Poor porky.

Daffy and Bugs love to watch all sorts of old films together. Sometimes, they even watch their old shorts and tease each other on how badly they used to act. Buster Keaton nights are their favorites.

Bugs and Daffy loooveee gossiping about other toons+celebrities. They have dirt on practically everyone in the industry.

#baffy #bugs and daffy #bugs bunny #daffy duck #isn’t that lovely? (ask tag)#sorry my answers aren't more coupley or lovey dovey ghdfjk #i’m aware I mispronounced refined palate #Daffy knows a lot of big words. He just doesn’t use them correctly (‘iminuminitable’ ‘that sir was an unmitigated flabracation!’)#he and bugs have that in common it’s adorableeeee

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prince-of-elsinore · 1 year

Text

Dear M*A*S*H: S1 Ep 01 “Pilot”

I want to talk about M*A*S*H. The 50-year-old show that, completely unexpectedly, has captured my heart and mind. I finished the series just over one week ago and had to force myself not to immediately begin a rewatch. Now that I’ve had a bit of time to process, though, I’m eager to dive and dig back in, to pick apart what makes this show tick and what made it resonate with me. I want to take my time this go-around (though I expect that will be difficult) and document my thoughts on episodes and characters as the show morphs and grows. I don’t know if I’ll make posts for every episode (that’s a lot) or how long I can keep this up tbh, and I make no promises as to the eloquence or deepness of all my reactions (sometimes you just wanna stare at Mike Farrell’s fuzzy chest amirite). But this show left my brain buzzing with how much there is to talk about and, well, it’s my blog, so here goes.

Korea, 1950: a hundred years ago

What a line to open on. When the show first aired in 1972, it was only 22 years ago. But maybe for audiences jaded by 7 years of direct American entanglement in Vietnam, the first war with moving images broadcast directly into living rooms across the nation, swiftly drawing to an embarrassing and disastrous conclusion, this other war did seem like a hundred years ago. That other, “lesser” war sandwiched between the heroically fought Second World War and the unprecedentedly divisive living nightmare of Vietnam. The supertitle is a simultaneous reminder to the audience of a conflict not often discussed around dinner tables, despite its relative recency (almost as recent to them then as the Iraq War is to us now), and an acknowledgment of how very, very distant it feels. What fascinates me most is how it positions the story we’re about to see as a fable of sorts from a distant time and place, presaging--somewhat paradoxically--the show’s perpetual relevance. This is Korea. It is also every war.

Then, the rest of the cold open. Visual storytelling at its finest! In a brief series of images we glean not only a sense of who our major players are at their cores, but also the notion that at the 4077, not all is as it seems. Two men in Hawaiian shirts playing golf: a familiar sight, until--kaboom, the ball lands in a minefield. A surgeon and nurse work over an unseen patient--oh, no, it’s a bottle of champagne. A man and woman in uniform studiously read a Bible and medical manual--while playing footsie under the table. So, Hawkeye and Trapper are the happy-go-lucky types who don’t see being in a war zone as any reason not to get their kicks where they can; Henry may appear official on the outside (though as we’ll soon see, rarely even that) but really he’s concerned with having a good time with a nurse (it strikes me this could also be an appropriate establishing situation for our two leads, but it’s even more fitting for Henry who is consistently negligent in his duties as Commanding Officer for the sake of sensual indulgence); and Margaret and Frank put on a hypocritical show of military and Christian officiousness while succumbing to their baser desires like anyone else.

Perhaps the implied injunction to look beneath the surface is nothing more than a promise to audiences of what kind of comedy the show will deliver. Perhaps it’s a commentary on the absurdity of life in wartime and under military jurisdiction (people will be people, no matter how many rule books you throw at them). I doubt the show intended this at the time, but I also see an early indication of the ethos that will come to permeate the series: that the truth--and often, our shared humanity--is found in looking closer, not making snap judgments based on superficial features. In any case, this much is clear: your expectations will be subverted. What is familiar becomes foreign, what’s foreign is familiar. It’s a topsy-turvy world. That’s the oldest root of comedy; it’s also war.

“Par is a live patient”

We get Hawkeye’s first “Dear Dad” over our first O.R. scene, conveniently filling us in on the what and why of the 4077 and meatball surgery. It’s also a thesis statement of sorts. They’re there to save lives, not for glory or to be pretty or precious about their work. Life: the number one concern of a doctor, and the number one thing that war takes away. In some ways, a doctor in a war zone is a paradox. This will be Hawkeye’s struggle straight through to the end of the series. He’s more needed here than he could be at any General Practice or stateside hospital, but what the hell is he doing here? He keeps fixing bodies--just enough to keep them clinging to life--only for the war and the army he works for to keep breaking them.

Back at the Swamp, Hawkeye voices a sentiment we’ll often hear repeated over the 11 seasons to come: invite the North and South to a cocktail party. Last one standing wins the war. Here, it’s a throwaway joke, but as we’ll come to see, the tragedy of Hawkeye Pierce is that he simply cannot grasp, cannot accept, how human beings, given the chance to just talk to one another, cannot come to an understanding, or at least an agreement, and settle their differences without resorting to killing.

All right, on to Lieutenant Dish. The scheme to auction off a nurse, even for the good cause of sending Ho-Jon to college in the States, is cringe-inducing today, as is the awkward montage of Hawkeye’s dogged pursuit of the lieutenant. The show’s misogyny, especially in its early seasons, is by far the hardest aspect for me to stomach. If, however, you take what is shown at face-value, as intended, there’s no harm, no foul here. The Dish-Hawkeye dynamic walks a thin line. Yes, she rejects him over and over and he ignores her over and over. Yet, even as she claims to be saving herself for her fiance, Dish seems indulgent towards Hawkeye, and later at the party even flirtatious. So, she enjoys the attention. Convenient and typical of an attractive woman written by and for men. At the same time, it doesn’t take any stretch of imagination to see that flirtation and sex are some of the only outlets available to the women of the camp, and that they could enjoy it just as much as the men.

I do want to know what the hell the plan was with the raffle of the weekend passes. Father Mulcahy winning is simply too convenient. (Incidentally, I feel robbed of seeing William Christopher react to his name being drawn. I’m looking forward to more familiar faces rounding out the supporting cast.)

The party scene also provides the stark juxtaposition of revelry and Hawkeye dancing cheek-to-cheek with his conquest with the sobering reality of their purpose, the raison d’être of the whole camp. To his credit, Hawkeye looks appropriately grave as he informs Margaret that they’ll be operating on a fresh batch of wounded within hours. While the 4077 dances and drinks, Canadian troops are fighting and dying not far off. Not only is this the linchpin of the episode, the get-out-of-jail-free card for Hawkeye and Trapper after all their shenanigans behind Henry’s back, but also a stamp of credibility for so much of the show. How on earth can these clowns get away these schemes, in the army, of all places? Because they are indispensable. Not only are they surgeons, they are the best at what they do. And once again the hypocrisy of army rules and regulations reveals itself; if everything were done by the book, to the letter, the army would cease to function. It would regulate and court martial itself into obsolescence. (Though, as is pointed out more than once in later episodes, would that really be a bad thing?)

Okay, some more thoughts, now as bullet points so I can wrap this up:

I’m watching without the laugh track, and boy is its absence obvious here in a way it never is later on. The pacing is off, much of the comedy wooden. Still, I prefer this subdued, awkward version of the show to the one with the incongruous canned audience. I think watching it this way allowed me to see so much more.

We get a “Come on, Mary” from Hawkeye to Trapper in the first six minutes! And they facetiously, effeminately point their noses in the air in unison as they walk away from Frank. They’re so in sync straight from the start and I love to see it.

I’m so glad the show left these awkward montages and flashbacks (Hawkeye with Dish, Margaret with General Hammond) behind.

Margaret’s limp hair and awful bangs make me sad.

I forgot The Still (tm) is not with us from the start! I assume they build it after Frank breaks their rudimentary barrel gin mill.

Oh, the bucket hat. Odd that it stays with us in the opening credits for the entire series run, when it feels so odd to see Hawkeye wearing it.

Radar is a surprisingly smooth operator here, even devious. He’s no dummy but it’s odd seeing him like this before he became more the wide-eyed innocent kid.

What is the true origin of “Hot Lips”?? Hawkeye calls her that seemingly off the cuff, and her reaction makes it seem like it’s a new nickname. Then Hammond shows up and calls her the same thing. Is this simply a case of Impossible Coincidence Played for Comedy?

I don’t think I got it the first time around that Margaret recognizes the gauze-covered Frank by his butt when she goes to give him the injection. One of the better jokes of the episode imo.

I listened to the Mashcast podcast for the episode and they were puzzled by the use of Japanese covers of popular songs. I assume that this was because Japan was so firmly established as a base of US military operations, a place every G.I. would pass through on their way to Korea, and where they would hope to go for R&R. I assume (but have not done research to confirm) that radio stations they might get would play Japanese tunes like this. The Japanese cover of “Happy Days,” for instance, seems like a nostalgic choice for US servicemen of the era.

Biggest laugh for me: Such a simple moment, but when Hawkeye and Trapper come into Henry’s office and shake hands with a “How are you, Henry?” and he responds, a little wary and knowing, a little sad-sack, “That’s not what you guys came to ask. I mean, the last thing you wanna know when you ask ‘how are you’ is how am I.” God, I really love Henry.

Parting thoughts: In retrospect, the pilot does a better job than I would’ve suspected in setting up not only the characters but also the lasting themes of the show, even while striking a tone a world away from what the show would become. Not a particularly good or funny episode, but it’s rewarding to rewatch and see the pebble drop into the pool, sending out the rings that will reverberate far into the future.

#mash #mash meta #m*a*s*h #mash 1x01 #mash pilot #dear mash #my meta

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