#house of mouse but modern disney

[cartoonyfangirl]

Okay! After watching Once Upon A Studio the 100th time, I'm just gonna say it!

Disney! CAN WE PLEASE HAVE THIS SHORT BE A SHOW OR A SHORT SERIES!

Like you have all of these characters both 3D and 2D, and I know darn well that you guys know that this short is a huge success, jump on that train!

You know what! I'm just gonna put down how this show would be, and my exceptions and nots

(Exception 1 - The only other characters that would appear outside of WDAS would be characters from DisneyToon Studios, so like characters from the sequels, A Goofy Movie, Ducktales! Treasure of the lost lamp, and the Tinkerbell characters. I still would not include Pixar, Marvel, Muppets, Star Wars, and etc, that would be more if Disney wants to do a full on House Of Mouse sequel, but if it's a spiritual successor, then this would be at the studio

(Exception 2 - However, some characters from those said IP's can be mentioned as like a cameo or name mention, just because they don't appear, doesn't mean they can't be mentioned)

Okay, now for how the show/short series plays out

(The show/short series would take place at the Walt Disney Animation Studio in Burbank, since I think that's where the short took place.)

(When everyone leaves, that's when the characters come out, and thus, whatever plot takes place, that's when the episode/short begins)

(Characters can appear on the sidelines, making sure that it adds character and life into this, rather it be them just talking and walking, grabbing some food, or just causing mischief)

Now for some ideas for episodes

(A New Rabbit - Oswald notices that he is the odd one out in the huge group, so with the help of Mickey and his pals, they try to give the Lucky Rabbit a makeover only both Walt and the fans would love. This would be the Epic Mickey design that we all love, and Frank Welker would return to voice the rabbit once more!)

(A Royal Night Out - Tiana plans a huge night for all of the Disney Princesses and Princes, and Asha feels worried that she might stick out in the group, since she is the newest princess in the studio lot. But over the course of the short/episode, we not only see her get comfortable around the princesses and princes (They would be such gentlemen to her), but also stuff that maybe the voice performers can ad-lib in, to make them feel more natural!)

(Father/Son Meeting - Goofy realizes how many Disney parents and children have either a father/son and or father/daughter dynamics, and so he plans out a huge evening where the pairs would get to know each other, and discuss the situations they were put through, Max would make his first appearance in nearly 20 years in this, helping his father, and also getting to know the rest of the other kids that also go through what Max dealt with in his films)

(These ideas are from @shellyswirlz I was given permission to share and give some disney touches to these!

(Puppy-Sitting) - Kristoff, Ryder, and Honeymaren are asked upon by Roger and Anita if they could take care of the puppies while they take Pongo and Perdita on their evening walk, to which the three say yes to (Because I feel like Kristoff would be a dog person for sure!) Cruella sees this as her opportunity to try and get the dogs again, but this time from different people. Over the course of the episode/short, the puppies get into some trouble, from either running around the animation building, to hiding in some of the shelves. This causes problems for both Kristoff, Ryder, Honeymaren, and even Cruella, who misses her chance every time. In the end, it's Anna, Elsa, and even Olaf who would help wrangle the puppies back together again, and just in time before Roger and Anita get back. Cruella would be upset that she didn't manage to snag any of the puppies, but her anger would instantly disappear when she sees the other animals, and soon begins hatching plans for that

(Tinkering About) - Some of the Disney kids are drawing some of their favorite characters from their favorite shows and films, and Tinker Bell watches from afar, thinking of a fun, yet mischievous plan. Once the children leave to play outside, Tinker Bell uses her magic to make the drawings come to life, and soon, they begin to cause mischief around the building and even the studio. For the doodles, this would be the only time characters outside of WDAS would make their cameo appearances (Such as Sulley, Kermit and Gonzo, Grogu, and etc). Mickey and Oswald notice the weird drawing creations, and soon begin to place them back into the paper they came from. They soon figure out that Tinker Bell is behind the tinkering, and soon, Peter Pan manages to stop her before she could make anything else pop out. She realizes her mistakes, and apologizes, Peter Pan, being the only one that can understand her, accepts it, but he tells her not to do it again, or else she wouldn't be allowed to be with him.

(A Caballero Reunion!) - Donald is overjoyed once more to see his pals Jose and Panchito again! Jose comes up with the idea of performing for the whole group, like they did back in the beginning when they first performed. Donald and Panchito agree, and soon throughout the episode, we see them getting ready, reminiscing on the days they first interacted, and even recalling some of their favorite moments from their film. Towards the end, they would have a huge performance, but soon realize that some of their instruments have become worn out from years of not being used. But soon some of the other Disney characters would join in to help, and soon, the Three Caballeros would sing their iconic song, alongside the rest of the Disney crew!

Those are what I have so far, but please, if anyone has any ideas/scenarios/and HC's for this, either tag this post, repost and add your share, and or comment down below!

(Cricket In A Lamp) - Jiminy Cricket rushes to Pinocchio's side, once again after accidentally oversleeping once more, but just as he's about to get to his side, he falls into Genie's lamp. Pinocchio is beside Aladdin, learning about what he, Jasmine, and the others went through in their film, and tells him that he's lucky to have The Genie by his side. The Genie soon appears, and decides to get some rest, but when he tries to get into his lamp, he isn't able to. Aladdin thinks this is a joke, but soon, they hear Jiminy's voice coming from the lamp! The three soon try to figure out how to get him out, considering it's a magic lamp, and messing with it can cause trouble. After a few different tactics and even some characters making their honorary cameos, it seems like it's hopeless, until some of the smaller characters decide to help out, and ask if they can be lowered in, so they can grab Jiminy out (I'm thinking it might be Bernard, Bianca, and the rest of the other small Disney characters). After some time, they managed to get Jiminy out, and of course Pinocchio was overjoyed to see him safe and sound. Genie apologizes for the lamp trouble, to which Jiminy cuts in, saying he fell in on accident, and that he should be more careful in where he's running to.

(I'm Late! I'm Late! For A Very Important Dinner Party!) - Mickey and Minnie decide to plan a big dinner party for the newcomer Asha, and soon get the help from some of the Disney Characters to deliver the invitations to the party. Once night falls, everyone arrives on time, except for one! The White Rabbit! He notices that the time on his watch is all wrong, and he quickly hurries to the dinner party. This episode would mostly be shenanigans and even ad-libbed stuff from characters old and new, and of course The White Rabbit dealing with his troubles as well! In the end, he makes it towards the end of the party, and enjoys the last few minutes with those that care about him

(This Is Dedicated To The Toon I Love!) - For the first time in nearly 25 years, Sylvia makes her return appearance in this episode/short. Goofy and Horace write love letters to Sylvia and Clarabelle. But when Horace accidentally leaves his name out of his letter, Clarabelle thinks that it's from Horace, wanting to see if they can rekindle their relationship. At first she is ecstatic, but then realizes that he couldn't possibly be in love with someone like her, and soon, she dismisses the first idea, and thinks who would have a crush on her. Shenanigans would pursue, with her going around the studio lot, basically seeing who is catching her eye. After hours on end, Clarabelle breaks down, seeing that there wasn't any signs that someone loved her on the lot, and she would never find out who wrote her the letter, Horace, Goofy, and Sylvia find her, and Horace bashfully admits that he wrote the letter to her, but he forgot to place his name down. Clarabelle becomes overjoyed, and the two share a kiss. Goofy is happy to see his long-time friends get together once more, and decides to have a double date with him and Sylvia, and Clarabelle and Horace!

@rikareena @silliesbillies @imaginationinstitutes

#once upon a studio #show idea #what if once upon a studio had a show/short series #disney #disney100 #spirtual successor #house of mouse but modern disney

[prokopetz]

Honestly, I'm more excited about The House at Pooh Corner entering the public domain next January 1st than I am about Steamboat Willie.

Sure, Steamboat Willie gets us a very early prototype of Mickey Mouse in the public domain, but Mickey doesn't appear in his recognisably modern form until 1935's The Band Concert, and that transition arguably isn't complete until 1940's Fantasia; those don't enter the public domain until 2031 and 2036, respectively.

The House at Pooh Corner, meanwhile, gets us the rest of Winnie the Pooh's core cast, which critically includes Tigger.

(Well, the rest of Winnie the Pooh's core cast with the exception of Gopher, who was added by Disney in the 1960s. However, the general consensus among Winnie the Pooh fans seems to be that nobody gives a shit about Gopher, so.)

#media #literature #cartoons #animation #mickey mouse #winnie the pooh #tigger #disney #copyright #public domain #swearing

[adrianasunderworld]

Okay imagine House of Mouse!Au but it’s filmed as a mockumentary - Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse/Modern Family style - with the staff as the main characters.

Minnie: Don’t you think it’s strange that Yuu is so close to the villains?

Max: Naah. I’m sure it’s fine.

Cut to confession cam

Max: I mean, it’s not like they sit around making friendship bracelets or anything

Camera switches to Yuu’s interview

Yuu: *holds up an arm covered in bracelets with various degrees of skilled thread braiding* look at all of the bracelets Pain, Panic, Lefou and Dr Facilier made with me :D

——-

Yuu: *over the phone* Are you sure you will be okay if I call in sick today? It’s just a small cold. I’m sure well enough-

Minnie: Don’t worry, Yuu. You just stay there and rest. Everything will be just fine 😊

Cut to confession couch

Minnie: I give it five minutes before the club descends into chaos *sighs* I better get Mickey’s wheel ready

——

Pete: That damn mutt just pushed me!

Yuu: *hugging Pluto* I’m sure he didn’t mean to

Cut to confession cam

Pluto: *barks as tail happily wags behind him* (subtitles: I definitely meant to)

Side note: one of the penguin waiters is the camera man

You had me at Life in the Dreamhouse.

Hades: You sure this is your first time playing poker, Alice?

Alice: Absolutely. *starts shuffling like a pro* Next hand, Albuquerque hold 'em, aces high, nothing wild.

*Camera cut to the confession*

Alice: Wild cards are for pre-schoolers.

----

Daisy: So, having trouble figuring out who Yuus BFF is?

Queen Grimhilde: It's me!

Ursula: It's me!

Maleficent: Its me!

-Camera cut to Frollo-

Frollo: It's probably not me

---

Idk maybe a tv network wanted to make a reality show of the House of Mouse because it's so popular and this is the result. It's supposed to be about the inner workings of Disneys hottest club, only to find the misadventures and love life of a teenage girl.

#twisted wonderland #house of mouse au #miss yuu #twst yuu

[liz-allyn]

sugar and vice, pt 4 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: Honey wakes up to a new life.

words: 5.8 k

warning: mob-typical violence. whump. hurt/comfort. drugging. threats of violence. coersion. kidnapping. traumatic flashbacks. violence. blood. shameless forced proximity trope. imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions.

you're responsible for your own content consumption. but that being said, if your parents aren't harboring a several hundred dollars-worth stash of beanie babies that are worth maybe $1 today, then this is not your jam.

Back to Part 3

Part 4

When her eyes cracked open, she was staring at a chandelier made from antlers. She blinked several times, noticing that the ceiling was different from any of Peter’s other rooms. She was gazing up at a vaulted A-frame ceiling with exposed redwood beams. The peak of the frame opened to a glass wall where sunkissed blue-green needles of giant Eastern white pine trees billowed.

She groggily sat upright, realizing she was nowhere near the familiar Boroughs of the city. Her limbs felt heavy. Once again, she was alone and buried in another heavenly-soft bed. She was in a bedroom, but it featured no personal touches. It could’ve been a hotel room, or a vacation rental. 

She threw her legs over the edge of the bed and her bare feet touched the floor. She shuddered at how warm it was. Heated floors. A very, very expensive vacation rental.

Rubbing her dry eyes, she made her way to a closed door. It opened to a loft balcony, which overlooked the living room of a massive, two-story modern cabin. She gawked at the floor-to-ceiling windows, her breath catching in her throat at the splash of greens, yellows, and oranges from the trees lining the house. Beyond the thick treeline, she could see the smoky blue haze of a mountain range in the distance.

She stood dumbstruck, like Dorothy emerging from her tornado-tossed house. 

Not in Queens anymore, was all she could think.

“You’re awake,” his voice echoed from the lower level. 

She glanced down at Peter, hands in his jean pockets, wearing a thick cable-knit sweater. He looked up at her with a twinkle in his eye, one that made her fret over the state of her bedhead. She felt ridiculous up on the balcony, like someone would start the monologue from Romeo and Juliet.

She bit her lip, pulling her eyes away. No good could come from seeing him as a Romeo. Even if he easily looked the part.

“So...” she began awkwardly, her cheeks flushed by his gaze. “Are we at Disney World or something? Did we check into the Wilderness Lodge?” She studied the rustic-meets-mid-century modern furnishings, idly rubbing the lace sleeves of her blouse. Her leather jacket had been removed and she honestly didn’t know how she felt about that.

“Sorry, Honey,” he said with a soft laugh that made her stomach weak. “No Mouse here. No gators either.”

Her cheeks pinched into a smile, before she remembered how she got there. The previous day’s events— Had it only been a day? How long was she out?— hit her like a truck. Her grin faded as she recalled her kidnapping. Her abduction. Her shameful, subservient soak in a stranger’s bathtub, followed by a dreary, restless slumber in his sheets. She’d been fed and given a good wash, like a stray dog. Dressed in clothes she could never afford. And had been drugged and taken to—

“Where are we?” she sharply questioned, anxiety chilling her tone.

Whatever smile Peter wore faded. “Not in Orlando,” he bit off.

He turned his back to her and crossed the enormous but cozy living room. Returning to his previous task, he crouched down in front of a soapstone, wood-burning stove in the corner of the room. He pulled the logs loose from a small bundle of firewood, and began loading it into the stove’s iron frame.

Frustrated, she huffed, glaring at the back of his head. Wondering what she was supposed to do.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Wherever here is?”

“Well, I’m building a fire,” he gave a haughty reply. “I’ve already tested the fuses, turned everything on, unpacked, changed clothes, and made coffee in the kitchen.”

“So you do know how to make it,” she muttered under her breath, sarcasm dripping from her mouth. It was quiet enough that there was no way he could’ve heard it.

“Lemme know if you want a taste,” he coyly replied, and it made her question whether or not he had. 

He hadn’t looked at her when he said it, and she was grateful because the innuendo was making her stomach flip. “I’m good.” She cursed the fact that her voice sounded more like a squeak.

“Well, since you’re wide awake,” he countered, in a teasing way that sounded too much like flirting. “Lemme show you ‘round the house.” He came to a stand, brushing the dirt and wood fibers from his hands. She found herself staring at the way his large palms glided across one another. 

It triggered the memory of those hands on her waist as he helped her into the bathtub. As he dressed her wounds. As he cradled her in his arms as he carried her away from her captors. As he cupped her face, wiping away tears, shielding her from the sight of a bloodied man who likely was dead because of her.

A chill went down her spine, her arms hugging herself tighter. “Maybe later,” she frowned, tucking her chin to her chest.

Silence settled for several seconds before she peeked at him from beneath her downturned brows. 

He considered her with pursed lips, silently observing. He shoved his hands back in his pockets. She bit her lip, and for a moment, she expected to hear another thinly-veiled insistence. 

“Okay,” was his calm reply. It surprised her. “But do me a favor instead. Go put on some hiking boots.”

“Hiking boots? I don’t have any—”

“They’re in the closet of the room you were in,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Grab a coat too. Meet me in the kitchen in five.” 

Without waiting for a reply, he strolled away. Once again, she had no room to protest.

When she opened the closet door in the room she assumed was ‘hers,’ she found a decent, walk-in space with rows of clothes hung up. She found a pair of leather hiking boots that looked brand new, in a cubby space next to 18 pairs of other shoes for a variety of occasions and seasons. 

Curiously, she checked the size. She was surprised to find that whoever she was borrowing these from had similarly small feet. Looking up, she spotted a lightweight puff jacket— Patagonia, of course— hanging up among the other articles of clothing. With a sigh, she pulled down the coat and checked the size. Another lucky match. She felt odd putting on someone else’s clothes. An uncomfortable thought crossed her mind— how many women had Peter brought to this cabin?

It was a thought she didn’t like.

When she traveled downstairs, fully dressed, she found the kitchen. She could tell he had a particular style, not too far removed from the one in the penthouse she’d observed earlier. A Scandinavian take on rustic. Immaculately organized open shelving. Spotless stainless steel. 

Curiously, she opened the fridge. There were a few groceries. Eggs, milk, sliced cheese, lunchmeat, orange and apple juice. It was a lot of empty space save for a few basic condiments in the door. Mustard that had exceeded its “best by” date by several months. 

The more she studied the kitchen and its contents, the more information she gathered about the man currently occupying it. 

An extravagant house in the mountains with breathtaking views. A kitchen worthy of Thanksgiving Dinner and every holiday celebration of the year. 

Barren. Untouched. Lonely.

A few minutes later, Peter approached with the handle of a small cooler in his grip. A backpack thrown over his shoulder. She curled a brow at him. 

“Sure you don’t want any coffee before we go?” he asked. “I’ve got a tumbler if you wanna take it to go.”

“Where are we going?” she asked suspiciously.

He shrugged his shoulders, a half-smile on his face. To her astonishment, he seemed...excited? Like a teenager going on a camping trip.

“Hiking,” he shrugged, like he was keeping a surprise. 

She stared at him like he had grown an extra arm.

“You’ll get a chance to break those in,” Peter added, pointing at her shoes. “‘Sides, it’ll be fun.” He reached into his backpack, inspecting the contents, mentally going through a silent checklist. She hadn’t moved a muscle when he looked back up at her.

“We outta get goin,’” he explained, disagreeing with her lack of hustle. “Sun’ll set in a few hours.”

She stared. Unnerved. Swallowed hard. She picked up her boot slowly, as if it was lined with concrete.

He started shuffling towards the door, before pausing and turning back to her. “Oh, one more thing,” he added. He locked eyes with her, smile never fading. “Lose the knife.”

She blinked. Her heart skipped. He watched her, eyes piercing like a hawk.

“Y’know,” he nodded nonchalantly, “the one you took from the butcher’s block?”

Her pulse started racing as she gazed blankly at him, rendered motionless. He jerked his head towards the butcher’s block on the counter, acknowledging that he noticed one of the knives was missing.

With wide guilty eyes, she glanced at the block, then back at him.

“Go on. Put it back.”

She felt like he was staring at her forever. Every second that passed, his eyes got darker. More challenging. More dangerous.

Eyes on the ground, she crept slowly back to the block on the counter. Pulling up her shirt, she retrieved the 8-inch steel butcher’s knife tucked in the waist of her jeans. She slid it back in its proper place, then turned towards him. Trepidatiously, she lifted her eyes off the ground. Peeking up at him, afraid of his wrath.

What she found was his eyes locked on her, a satisfied little smirk on his lips. He gazed at her with an expression that was either affectionate or amused. Either way, he made it clear that she was practically powerless in this situation. She posed no threat.

“Good girl,” he appraised, before turning and heading out of the kitchen door. “Follow me.”

The hike through the woods was quiet, but not tense. At least not on his part. Peter led her on a path through a thick grove of trees. She was still shaken by being confronted about the knife. It was obviously a shock to her, but not to him. She couldn’t know that his observation skills were sharpened by years of people trying to stab him in the back, and not just metaphorically.

The trail was solid with only a few patches of mud. Luckily, the weather had been ideal for his plans. It wasn’t wet, or too terribly cold, especially with the sun positioned where it was. The increased blood circulation from the gradual upward climb helped. There was snow in the forecast but it wouldn’t start until tomorrow morning. They were lucky enough to enjoy one of the last days of fall before the winter would sink its teeth in.

Luck was not something he was used to, but he always seemed to find it with her. 

Peter felt his own heart begin to beat faster, but not due to physical exertion. He dragged his hand through his hair. His palms were sweaty. They were getting close. 

“Almost there,” he announced, trying to maintain his cool. Or whatever it was he was pretending to be. Many awkward years as a teen and even more awkward conversations with women proved that he was anything but cool. He’d always been a nervous wreck. It was pure luck that he’d undergone the changes in life to be able to talk to a girl, let alone have the confidence to ask them on a date.

And here he was again, feeling like he did in high school. He didn’t really know what he was saying, probably didn’t make any sense, and had no idea how to ask such a pretty girl whatever it was he was asking. 

His lack of practice was showing. It had been a long time since he felt this way about anyone. 

Not since—

“Are you taking me out to the woods to kill me?” his Honey blurted out.

He stopped in his tracks, turning to her with an incredulous stare. 

She stood several feet from him, ramrod straight, shoulders tense. 

“Really?” he breathed. More confused than offended. “That’s what you got outta this?”

She shrugged her shoulders, with that adorable anxious look on her face—the one she’d make when the wheels in her brain were spinning, and her mouth was moving a mile a minute, and all he could do was be hypnotized by the way her lips moved. “I mean... you’re you,” she softly replied, in her defense. “What else am I supposed to think?” 

He pursed his lips. The sting of her words seized his throat.

'You’re you.' He considered her meaning, heart sinking. A monster, she intended to say. He couldn’t keep the sorrow from filling his eyes and her expression changed. She looked apologetic.

It made him feel even worse. She was apologizing to him. He swallowed hard.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said sincerely. He held his chin a bit higher, and she considered his truthfulness. He turned back towards the path. “C’mon.”

Quietly, she followed.

A couple of minutes later, they arrived at a clearing next to a huge flat rock. It was from an elevated vantage point that offered a beautiful view of the valley through the trees. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the vista. With ease, he scaled the rock, setting down his backpack and the cooler. 

She watched him curiously as he pulled a blanket from the backpack and began laying it out on the solid surface. Once it was flat, he began pulling items out of the cooler. She heard the rustling of plastic, staring up at him curiously. He came to a stand and leapt down to her level with surprising agility. He extended his hand to her.

“C’mon,” he beckoned. “I’ll help you up.”

His Honey hesitated, as she always did, looking up at the rock, then back at him. His smile began to falter, worrying that she would refuse. She had no reason to trust him, after all. But slowly, she took his hand. He smiled, feeling his heart soar. 

He clenched her body to his, wrapping one arm around her waist. He used the hand to quickly scale up the rock again, in a move so quick and effortless it made her think he was a professional rock climber. Or a mountain goat.

He held onto her tightly when they were at the top of the rock. Like the night before in his bathroom, he found himself not wanting to let go. He stared down at her bright, beautiful eyes—soft, gentle, timid— and breathed in her air. The scent of his body wash on her skin. Mingling together in an aroma that made his heart flutter.

Sheepishly, she glanced away, not able to withstand the heat of his gaze. As if remembering what planet he was on, Peter released his grip and let her stand on her own. She looked down curiously, her eyes widening to the sight at her feet. 

Peter had laid out a picnic blanket and a delicious-looking spread complete with sandwiches, fresh fruit, cookies, charcuterie, and empty champagne flutes. The small gasp she let out as she observed the meal made his stomach flip. He was excited and terrified—not sure himself how she would react to his attempted olive branch.

She blinked up at him, astonished. 

He felt his tongue go dry as he stammered anxiously. “I, uh... thought we could have a late lunch?” She stared, stunned and silent. “Um,” Peter felt his fingers begin to twitch. He glanced around the space, swallowing hard. “Um, p-please... Sit.” He lowered himself onto the picnic blanket, crossing his legs like a kid. Slowly and hesitantly, she followed, mirroring his position.

He beamed at the gesture. He turned his attention back to the spread. “So, yeah—um, we got sandwiches. Uh, I did turkey, cheese, with tomato, I... I-I sorta forgot the lettuce. We can still get some though. Tomorrow, not now. Because... yeah.”

She gazed at him, her expression softening as he stumbled his way through the menu.

“Some other stuff here—crackers, salami, this sliced cheese I got at a Middle Eastern grocery. I don’t think there’s anything regionally specific about the cheese, though. I think it’s just cheddar and gouda...”

He worked to hide his flustered blush. She looked up at him with a soft gaze. He hoped she found it endearing, maybe even charming—and not like he was a dork. Which is how he felt.

He rubbed his palms on the thighs of his jeans. “Um, cookies—The good kind with the chocolate chip chunks that are really big. There’s also some raisin cookies because I accidentally grabbed them from a place thinkin’ they were chocolate chip, and then I got the chocolate chip cookies, but I had these oatmeal raisin ones, and nobody likes those when you think you’re getting chocolate chip, but maybe if... you had them... in addition to chocolate—”

He cleared his throat. Pictured the way his last serious girlfriend would grin at him when he was babbling. He relished the memory, and glanced up. She looked different. Not just in the obvious way, but not in a bad way. Her expression wasn’t judgmental, or annoyed, and she didn’t make him feel like a dork. She stared at him in silent astonishment, almost like she was marveling at him. Almost like he was worthy of her.

It made his heart flutter. “Anyway... uh... you can have whatever you want, um... I...” He swallowed hard. “Um, there’re also grapes. And, uh—” He glanced down into the cooler, his smile falling. “Shit,” he quietly muttered. “Damn it.”

“What is it?”

“The champagne,” he huffed in defeat, frustrated with himself. “I forgot the goddamn champagne.”

“Oh,” Honey said, gently. “It’s okay.”

He ran his palms down his face. “Nah, s’not okay—”

“No, really, it’s fine—”

“No, it’s not fine,” he groaned. “I didn’t bring anything else to drink. I-I didn’t think—” 

“This is—this is great,” she emphatically replied, trying to ease the pain of his embarrassment. It was another one of her kindnesses toward him.

“No, no, no, it’s—look, I got it.” He hopped to his feet and it made her nervously stretch her arms, as if she could somehow catch him if he slipped off the rock. “Don’t worry, I-I-I got it. It’s... it’s right back at the house, I can run back real quick—”

“Seriously?” she replied. “It’s... it’s way back there? I mean, you don’t have to! I promise, I'm not even thirsty. Are you sure you don’t need help?”

“No, no, no, I already laid everything out. The food’s out. It’ll just take me 2 minutes. You should dig in.”

“Wha-what? Are you sure? I can wait for you.”

“Have a cookie,” he pleaded, filled with a nervous energy that had him scurrying down the rockface. “Don’t worry, just 2 minutes. Less than! I’m gone. Already gone. Be right back!” 

He took off in a frenetic jog, disappearing from her sight. She watched him, curious and confused at how he’d be able to cut down a 10-minute hike into just two. 

Honey glanced back down at the appetizing spread and the thought and care that went into each detail. When did he even have time to do this? She picked at a sandwich that was cut into an elegant triangle and wrapped with cellophane. Examined it.

Then, it hit her. She glanced back at the trail, eyes wide. Peter was nowhere in sight.

He was surprised at how fast he could move through the woods, almost as quickly as he could navigate through skyscrapers. His mind was still churning over the picnic, scolding himself for forgetting something so pivotal. He grumbled about his forgetfulness, and about the awkward dissertation he decided to give about the cookies. He also neglected to bring anything else to drink. He should’ve remembered the moment she turned down coffee back at the kitchen—

He froze, dropping to the ground from the canopy. Both feet hit the dirt with a soft thud. His stomach plummeted even further. 

He glanced back at the trail behind him. Where he had left his Honey. 

Where minutes ago she’d questioned whether he was plotting to murder her, a thought so obscene it made him sick to his stomach. 

And just a few hours before that, he’d drugged her and brought her to a location so secluded she wouldn’t even know what state she was in, not having seen a license plate.

He’d left her. Alone. 

“Mother Hubbard!” he growled.

What a fucking idiot. A lovesick, bumbling dork.

At once his senses shifted into overdrive. Panic rising within him. An urgency overtook him, like a scream crawling up his throat. He was hurtling back through the air, cursing himself as he broke his body on every branch along the way. 

By the time he approached the rock, he landed hard enough to crack the surface. His fears were confirmed. The picnic blanket was abandoned. The young woman was nowhere in sight.

“No, no, no, no, no…” he babbled to himself, pulling at his hair as he scanned the clearing desperately. “Honey!” His voice boomed, a crack of thunder wrapped in frustration and fury.

No reply. Not that he should expect one.

He shouldn’t expect anything.

He shouldn't expect to see her ever again—not alive, anyway. 

His stomach lurched. The next time he would see her face, she’d be beaten beyond recognition. Her skull and body broken on the fists of Wilson Fisk, her blood staining the cuffs of one of his dress shirts.

“Honey!” 

His second shout came out with more desperation. Breaths exploding in short bursts. The trees were spinning. His heart threatened to break out of his chest. It felt like it already had. 

He dashed down the trail, eyes scouring the landscape. Senses were hyper-aware of every rustle of leaves, every snapped twig. It was too much information to take in at once. 

She was gone, and he wouldn’t find her again until it was too late. Why would he think she’d stay put? Why would he think she’d stay with him a moment longer than she had to? He had her, and he lost her. 

She was gone.

—stay with me, Gwen, please—

“Honey!” he screamed with a flayed voice—shrill, broken, terrified. 

She had been terrified. Shaking like a leaf when he’d found her on the freezing concrete of the auto body shop. Scared of what had happened and what could happen. Scared of what Fisk’s men would do to her. Scared of what Peter would do to her.

Peter Parker, the monster.

He was trembling. He was about to cry—when had he started to cry what a fuckin’ loser— as he stared at the soft dirt and crushed leaves of the path he was on— Gwen’s broken body, spine smashed to pieces, blood spilling from her nose and eye sockets, about to be interred in the soil—searching desperately for footprints...

Katzenberg had been terrified, sputtering petty excuses through bloody lips. Half-dead, incoherent pleas. Desperate in a futile attempt to save his own life.

“It was nothin’ personal, I swear it.. I-I... It was all Kingpin’s idea—takin’ pictures... I-I-I’m not even into that sick stuff... It’s disgusting, what he wan’ed... Can’t even watch it on the internet, I gotta kid sista, y’know...”

Peter dug his nails into his palms. 

Honey had been terrified. 

Gwen had been terrified. 

Ben had been terrified. 

May had been terrified.

He was terrified. He knew Wilson Fisk and what he was capable of. Peter had seen with his own eyes the victims of Kingpin’s wrath. The gender made no difference. He left bodies destroyed.

He was going to be sick. In a fit of panic, terror and rage, he started stalking down the path, roaring out her given name.

“Your hands, Nicky,” Peter sneered as he approached his terrified captive. He was sobbing over his gag, fat tears, snot and blood streaking his face. “You put hands on a woman for the last time...” 

Peter gripped the hammer tight, brought it down onto Katzenberg’s knuckles. Then he did it again. And again. And again. One for each knuckle. One for the gash on his Honey’s forehead. Eventually, he quit counting.

Peter was cupping his face, nearly dropping to his knees in the dirt. The sun would set soon. It would be dark, how would he find her in the dark? He could barely breathe. Deep breaths.

“People are so lame sometimes,” Honey gave Peter this weird little face, like she was saying ‘bleh’ and gagging simultaneously. It was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.

They had been in one of those rare, magical moments where it was an odd hour of day and the shop was empty save for the two of them. It felt selfish, having her all to himself. Indulgent. It was an indulgence that made his mouth water.

Bright-eyed, body poised like a ballerina, she craftfully poured foam into his cup. He fell under her spell. The aroma of coffee and lavender flowed through his senses, and he felt himself relaxing as he sank deeper. Taken by the current. Longing to dive into her magic.

“Ugh, it’s the worst,” she said. Even her complaints were done with a smile. “Things get a little crazy in here—like that one time during the marathon when the street was closed down so the crowd could watch so we were just friggin’ blitzed, like DEFCON 1, and it was the Rock’n’Roll one, and y’know we’ve got that drag queen revue across the street, too—super fun by the way if you haven’t gone yet—but they constructed a stage on the street with like 100 giant speakers so that one of the queens could perform as the runners went by, and they turned the volume way up and everyone kept piling in here wanting coffee. Meanwhile I can’t hear any orders because Cher is belting it out.”

She giggled and the sound alone could break his heart. “S’anyway, that’s not the point—When it gets all crazy train in here, I just hafta close my eyes and think to myself ‘deep breaths.’ In and out.”

He took a deep breath, pulling his hands from his face. Inhaled the chilly air. Breathed in the scent of wet leaves and pine and the memory of coffee and lavender.

In and out.

In his mind, she was staring at him. Giving him that look that hurt to look at. Like staring at the sun. Burned his eyes and his soul. 

He’d take that image home with him, wired from the excessive amount of caffeine, and think about it when things were too overwhelming. Whenever he felt his anger building. Or when he was showering off his sins for the day and he’d let his hand wander to the part of him that burned the most for her.

In and out. Breathe. Listen.

He felt the tingle crawl up his spine. Then he heard it: a twig snap.

Before he could see it with his eyes, the picture was in his head. He bolted in its direction just as a crack rang out overhead. 

Honey was falling. She let out a squeaky shriek that Peter never wanted to hear. She was plummeting, her eyes staring up at the tree canopy. She was falling to earth from her hiding place in the tree above their picnic spot.

The solid rock beneath her rushed up. 

Impact. And another.

Peter gripped her body close to his chest, his arms wrapped around her like serpents. He’d snatched her from her free fall, catching her in midair and landing with a heavy thud. Chest heaving, his eyes shot to her face, searching for blood. 

Her eyes fluttered wildly, disoriented from her near-fatal fight with gravity. She sucked in breath, heaving in a gasp. Gently, he lowered her to the ground, dropping to his knees. It’s like his brain lagged behind his eyesight. The fierce sound of her pounding heart released him from his terror-striken state. 

When she made eye contact with him, his eyes were red-rimmed and bleary, tears welling with relief. They stayed like that for a moment—he kneeled while he cradled her, fingers trembling against her skin. He searched her eyes—you stay with me—listening to the song of her pulse.

Her hand lay limply in the dirt beneath her. Fingers brushed the sharp rough face of a softball-sized sandstone. She gazed up at him, blind instinct taking over, and slammed the rock into the side of his head. 

He tumbled to the side, releasing his grip immediately. She hesitated, glancing back at her devastating hit—both shocked and horrified at her own actions. Then the panic set in. She flipped around and scrambled to her feet. She pumped her legs, running as fast as she could down the dirt trail away from her captor.

Suddenly, her feet were pulled out from underneath her. She came flying down, chest slamming into the dirt. She coughed as the air expelled from her lungs, tears filling her eyes from the shock. Reflexively, her legs were still moving, almost like a cartoon character. 

No! No! No, please, no! She was unsure if her screams were in her head or if she actually recognized the sound of her own disembodied voice. Kicking her legs, confused and frustrated  as it seemed they were bound in some sort of stringy—what the heck is this stuff?—material that wrapped around her legs like snakes. She kicked wildly to no avail, like her legs were tangled in blankets made of glue. She reached down, trying to free herself, snatching her hand back when she felt how sticky her binds were.

A shadow fell over her. Peter’s silhouette stood tall, back against the setting sun, as he glared down. Blood trickled from the temple near his ear. Eyes blackened with rage.

The sound she made was barely human, a pathetic yelp, as he snatched up her body and yanked her into his grip. Her legs were useless, so she used fingers, fists, palms, nails—anything to get him to release her. His hold was iron around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder like a ragdoll. 

He marched down the path with her writhing desperately on his shoulder. A mix of blubbering sobs—please, nonono, please, somebody help me, please help!— and savage scratching. When she was able to angle her arm and drive her elbow in the back of his head, he whipped her body around to his front. The ease at which he tossed her made her feel infantile in comparison. A muzzled, declawed feral kitten, whom he could easily toss off a bridge into a river.

He was going to kill her. She knew it. She had screwed up badly, and now he was going to kill her. Her fight wore down, the overwhelming exhausting sorrow bearing down on her, and soon she was a weeping mess of desperate pleas. He said nothing, paused for nothing, and gave her no inclination of what was next. The way he gripped her prevented her from being able to see how infuriated he was, but she felt it in his muscles. Like osmosis his fury seemed into her and it made her shudder. 

There would be pain, she thought. She was certain. Her mind flashed back to his victim in the chair and her imagination pictured what he must look like right now. She imagined a torso floating in the East River, picked apart by fish. Head and arms buried somewhere nearby in concrete. 

She screamed, terrified. Begging desperately that someone could hear her. Praying for salvation. 

Sooner than she thought, he had kicked open the kitchen door and was carrying her through the living room. 

She could barely breathe through her sobs. “Please, please, don’t—I’m sorry, I’m sorry s-so sorry, please, don’t do this—”

He marched up the staircase and turned down the balcony to the bedroom she had woken up in. As he passed the threshold her fight came roaring back. 

“No, stop! Please, please stop! No don’—I won’t run away, I promise—!” 

He threw her, and her body was flying backwards. Landing hard against the mattress. The force of it silenced her for a moment as she struggled to catch her breath. Like a lion, he was on her. On top of her. His hands caught hers as she came up defensively to hit him. Wordless and possessed, he dragged her up to the headboard, his weight smothering her.

She wailed incoherently—Please don’t do this, I'm sorry, please— and was silenced by a sharp thwip. Her wrists flew to either side of her head, covered in the sticky gunk that restrained her legs. The sensation stunned her. Her body went rigid as he straddled her hips, pinning her hips down with his weight while her hands were unmovable at the sides of her head.

His eyes were the color of ink. The darkness in them threatened to swallow her. She went still, save for the uncontrollable heaving of her chest, as she peered up at his nightmare-stare with horror.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he glowered and hissed through his teeth. Her fear beckoned her to look away, but he gripped her jaw tight. Forcing her gaze into his. Pupils blown, blood trailing down his cheek like motor oil, he glared at her. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t.”

It was more than a threat. It was a promise. She knew it. Her heart seized in her throat. She cowered beneath him, trembling and pliant. Silent as a mouse.

“And I swear to god—on my mother’s soul,” he breathed through his mouth, speaking so quietly it was nearly a whisper. “If you ever pull that shit again... I will.”

It was a horrible look he gave her after that. Chilling, to say the least. Something so intimately livid. It bordered on obscene. She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, watching his body leer over hers threateningly. It wouldn’t surprise her if he reached up and snapped her neck. She was expecting it.

But he released her chin, withdrawing himself. His footsteps pounded like a hammer as he marched across the hardwood floor. The heavy door slammed, shaking the top story of the house.

With a trembling chin, she gazed up through wet eyes at the ceiling. At dust-covered antlers suspended by chains, swaying in the gentle draft. 

The sound she heard outside of her room was almost inhuman. A bellowing roar. It frightened her—of every fuckin’ little thing, always so frightened, scared of your own shadow, when would  she going to be done being so scared all the time?—and she squeezed her eyes shut. 

She wept as quietly as she could until sleep overtook her.

Continue to Part 5

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#Lizzy writes. #Lizzy writes! sugar and vice #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x you #mob!peter parker #mob au #mafia au #spiderman au #andrew garfield spiderman #andrew garfield #andrew garfield peter parker x reader #andrew garfield x reader #peter parker andrew garfield #andrew garfield au #mob!andrew garfield #mob peter parker au #mob peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #peter parker smut #tasm smut #tasm angst #tasm x reader #tasm x you #tasm fanfiction

[ordinaryschmuck]

*Sighs*...Okay, yeah, Wish really IS bad

And I didn't want to go in thinking that. I went in with the most optimistic view possible. Because with EVERYONE treating this movie as the worst thing possible, a POX upon the house of mouse itself, I went in thinking that there's no WAY it's THAT bad. So when I finally watched, I decided...I was right. It's NOT that bad. But...Well...Let's get into it.

This is the part where I'd say "Positives First," to show off what worked before picking apart what didn't. Except that, aside from a few little moments and easter eggs that made me go, "Aw, that's cute," I'm coming up EMPTY. Every single thing--And I do mean EVERY SINGLE THING in this movie, from the animation, songs, characters, story, themes, ideas, and even EXECUTIONS...is ALMOST good. Every single aspect of this film ALMOST worked. The pieces are there and I can see just how this film could have been the masterpiece that was a CENTURY in the making. The problem is that there's ONE THING holding it back: Not enough time. And I don't just mean that the movie should have been longer. No, I mean that this movie needed another YEAR of production to tighten up EVERYTHING. Why's that? Well, let's go in order of the things I mentioned.

The animation is clearly trying to go for this mixed-medium style that movies like Puss in Boots: The Last Wish or Spider-Verse popularized. Those movies mixed hand-drawn animation with 3D models, making storybook illustrations or comic book art feel ALIVE. That's sort of Wish is going for. I hear people say that Disney's 100 year celebration should have been completely hand drawn to call back to their early years, but I tend to disagree. I think Disney making a movie that's mixed-medium is a better way to honor its one hundred years, taking the animation that made Disney huge and mixing it with modern CGI as a way to make it feel like a celebration of the old AND new. EXCEPT that it doesn't really look good, aside from certain screenshots. There are SOME still images where if you paused the movie at the right time you can get something that looks like a 2D image with CG touch-ups. For the rest of the movie, it looks like a modern CGI Disney film with a storybook filter slapped on it. It doesn't look TOO BAD when your eyes get used to it, but it doesn't stop the movie from feeling like it ALMOST hit the right mark. The only times it REALLY works is with Star.

Wha--No. No, not that one. That's the wrong Disney character named Star.

There he is. There's my little guy.

But look at him. He's a 3D character with hand-drawn touch-ups that really makes him feel like a 2D character brought to life. If the whole movie looked like HIM, then it would have been a revolutionary achievement for Disney. But it doesn't. Instead, it feels like a missed opportunity that would have worked better if they had more time to animate this film instead of leaving their animators scattered to the winds to make half-assed sequels or forcing out one to two projects every year.

There should have also been more attention given to the songs because...Oh my gosh, they're bad. They SOUND nice, I love the instrumentals and the POWER these people put into the vocals. "This Wish" and its reprise successfully gives me chills through how well they're sang and how epic the instruments make them. But the LYRICS...are messy. When you sit down and actually LISTEN to what's sung, it all just...BLEH. That's the best way I can describe it, I'm sorry! It's BLEH!

Why would a king in a fairytale kingdom in the distant past sing, "You're sure you're not the prob?"

"Throwing caution into every warning sign" doesn't come across as a person freeing herself from her insane king's vague warnings but ADHERING to them.

The way that Asha and King Magnifico sing about protecting wishes makes it sound like they're singing to EACH OTHER.

And "You're A Star." OH BOY! The song that's meant to explain how these animals can magically talk is just filled with allegories and allusions that think they explain EVERYTHING only to explain NOTHING. It's just vague nonsense that, again, SOUNDS nice, but offers no real substance. On its own, I guess I can get into it, but to tell a story, it falls apart. Because that's the difference when it comes to writing a regular song and writing a musical: You're not just making a good song, you're telling a story through MUSIC. Wish's soundtrack is one that's filled with catchy songs, but not ones that properly move the story forward. Not to mention how they're so jarringly out of character in cases like "This is the Thanks I Get." When Disney released the soundtrack, that was my favorite song because I felt like it perfectly fit this smug, egotistical prick who thought he was the best person alive. Turns out that's not what Wish was going for...Not entirely.

Magnifico feels like he's meant to be a mix between Gaston and Maleficent. A character that has a huge ego and loves himself more than anything, but has an incredible amount of power to make himself a threat. If done right, a villain like that could stand up to be with some of Disney's best. And, yeah, like everything else in this movie, he ALMOST works. When he's finally a villain, he's campy and over the top, making him entertaining...But notice how I said "When he's finally a villain." That's because Magnifico doesn't really become what he's meant to be until halfway through the movie. He starts off as a King with good intentions but paranoid ideals that doesn't make him evil, it makes him feel like a guy who needed evidence to prove that other magic isn't a threat. By the time he finally acts more like a Disney villain, it was such a jarring left turn that his sudden switch-up made me feel like it was somehow a nightmare sequence from Asha. He's NOTHING like the guy he starts out as, and it's not a natural change that flows well throughout the film. That's mainly because the story has a pacing problem worse than any movie I've seen. If King Magnifico's path to the dark side was slow and gradual, showing signs of his worst qualities first and make them more apparent as the film goes on, he would have worked INCREDIBLY. Instead, it comes across as his villainy was activated like someone flipped a switch in his brain that says, "Be evil now." It's the absolute REVERSE of a bad redemption story, mixed with a lazy explanation that it was dark magic that made him more corrupt when he should have been evil since minute one. And you want to know the worst part? He's probably the best character in this.

Asha...isn't bad. She's your standard quirky nice girl protagonist that Disney just LOVES to use, especially lately. It's just that Asha doesn't have that "Gets stuff done" attitude like Moana or Mulan, nor does she have the infectious charm like Maribel or Anna. Asha, instead, is a lot like her breakout song: Nice and enjoyably, but doesn't stand out from the biggest hits. As for her animal sidekick Valentino...He's not annoying, but he's not funny either. Honestly, his comedy peaked when it was revealed that this cute baby goat sounded like Clayface from that Harley Quinn cartoon. A joke, by the way, that got spoiled by the trailers, so it's not really AS funny in the movie. Honestly, Asha's SEVEN FRIENDS are funnier at times. Speaking of, those characters are very clearly meant to be the Seven Dwarfs. And it is VERY distracting because not only does it feel like only two or three of them are necessary to the plot, but they're the ONLY major reference that the movie shines a light on when it comes to Disney's history.

Would I have wanted this entire movie to be nothing but references of past Disney movies? Of course not. That's not how movies work. But Wish seems to have this problem where it doesn't really COMMIT to honoring Disney's legacy. The most it does is give the Seven Dwarfs human OCs, make them supporting characters, and throws in tiny little easter eggs here and there. Again, some of them are cute, but it's not enough. The same goes for when Wish tries to honor some of the tropes and cliches that Disney popularized. It's an animated musical with talking animals, a campy villain, an objectively pretty protagonist, and goofy sidekicks. But it takes more than ADDING that stuff to your movie in order to honor them. You need to look at what made those tropes and cliches work in the first place and make something that calls back to those classic films while still having something new to say. And Wish almost--ALMOST--has something new to say.

With everything surrounding King Magnifico and how he got more power with people's wishes, I almost thought Wish was going to be a film that called out modern Disney. At least, modern CORPORATE Disney, a company that takes ideas and thoughts created by dozens of talented people, twists them into something unrecognizable, and refuses to give those ideas back when choosing to do NOTHING with this great idea leaves them free of competition. And to stop something evil like that, you must make something of your own and work hard to make your idea yours instead of letting someone more powerful take it from you. I thought that would have been a GREAT message...But of course DISNEY wouldn't want a movie calling them OUT for their one hundred year victory lap. So, instead, we have a message that tries to get the same idea across, but in a simplified way where the wishes are taken LITERALLY and that the only way to get what you want is to wish hard enough for it. That is...NOT the message I want kids to learn from this as it often leads to bad expectations. If this movie tried an ironically anti-Disney message in ANY OTHER year, it would have a better chance of getting away with it. But for a hundred year celebration, there was no chance in hell.

Wish is NOT Disney's worst movie, but it's nowhere near the best. I love SO MANY of the ideas and what it TRIES to do, but there's a difference between good ideas and good executions. It was ALMOST good, but Wish was not the movie anybody was really wishing for...

#disney #wish critical #quick thoughts #what i thought about

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Hello! Tis me, the one who wrote the little headcanon about House of Mouse Yuu’s scars! And I have come back with a sequel!

So, the headcanon is based off of the fact that I-irl—am an archer. So I thought: “wouldn’t it make sense since Yuu doesn’t have magic to pick up a weapon instead?” So I wracked my brain for a headcanon idea and came out with this!

Since people who are not yet adults can’t own guns, Yuu chooses two weapons. 1) A recurve bow and 2) a multi-tool. A bow takes time and effort(and many, MANY slaps from the bowstring hitting your arm) to learn, Yuu needs a placeholder and a weapon in case she finds herself in close combat overblot fights or she is too close to use a bow so she picks a multi-tool. Not only is it a good weapon, it has mundane uses as well just so it’s not like she’s carrying a knife in her pocket wherever she goes. It can be helpful for other situations as well!

I’m pretty sure you’ve mentioned the princes and princesses helping Yuu learn self defense and I love it! 💝💝💝 (it also maybe inspired me to make the headcanon sequel;) )

Wait hold up, you're an ARCHER?!?!?!?

THAT IS SO COOL 🤩🤩🤩

I've always loved archers and found them so talented. I remember when I was younger there were these adverts of Nerf Rebelle bows that I wanted to get but knew better to ask for.

Yeah, since she can't do magic, the Disney cast have decided to train her in the art of weapon-wielding.

Merida and Robin Hood are the best archery teachers Yuu could ask for.

I bet Minnie or Daisy or one of the more modern characters would give her boxes of pepper spray for her to keep on her person in case f emergencies.

Maleficent's little goblin goons would try to give her their morningstars or clubs since they always found bludgeoning people to death the best way to defend yourself but that was quickly shot down.

There's this isekai manwha I once read called 'Miss Not-So Sidekick' where the male lead gifts the main character an enchanted ring that when activated casts a fireball the size of a building to kill anyone that troubles her and I 100% believe that Malleus would do something similar

#asks #house of mouse au #twst #twisted wonderland #twst yuu #fem yuu

[davekat-sucks]

i hate seeing people erase canon bi/pan identifies

like i dont like diisney but some of the shows are ok, but i saw someone headcanon hunter (a canon bi character) as gay and willow (a canon pan character) as lesbian and when someone called them out on it they said that hunter being bi and willow being pan isn’t canon and is just a headcanon made by dana, did people forget that she made the show? people will always make up excuses to hate bi/pan people and be bi/panphobic, plus aren’t hunter and willow in a canon relationship? aren’t they dating in canon?

The headwriter of Owl House implied they were a couple. Zeno, Hunter's VA, would always jokingly say they have an ADVANCE FRIENDSHIP. Though I think the VA said this to play it safe for people who don't ship Hunter with Willow. I say they are a couple with how close they are by the epilogue. Extra info or material that is from outside sources like Twitter, does not count as actual canon within the show. If you couldn't show it, it is not part of it. Sure you can blame Disney for its limitations, but with how open they are to say FUCK THE MOUSE on Twitter, they could at least either take the loss for what it is or just not work with them in the first place. People say they hate how forced or rushed Hunter and Willow's relationship were. Some say they hate how Willow's character development was very little or only on the emotional side. Some say they hate how Hunter was mostly Willow's boy toy and he doesn't interact with other characters after season 2 besides Luz and Flapjack for plot. But since they can't blame Dana, their beloved creator that made their show, and they can't blame Disney that shortened its airtime because big corp that they will always follow and defend again for more rep, they got to blame something else. And it's the implication of them being a straight couple in a show that's been praised for LGBT themes and acceptance on a kids show. Because having a straight couple apparently RUINS the theme. It's not like Hunter and Willow even take up the spotlight that much when it's still about Luz's journey. But in modern age, if an LGBT person or group finds out a bi or pansexual got together with someone of their opposite sex, they are seen as traitors in their eyes and says they aren't part of LGBT. Not even as allies either. No straight love is allowed. So much for their motto of 'All love is love' when some love is better than others.

#Owl House #Huntlow #Hunter x Willow #HunterWillow #HunterxWillow #Hunter Owl House #Hunter Wittebane #Willow Park #Disney #Twitter #X #X Twitter #Twitter X

[franki-lew-yo]

I hate Disney's Mirrorverse so much. I have no words for how much it legit ticks me off and how I think it's an insult to even compare it to Kingdom Hearts, which isn't high art but was at least trying for something.

Kingdom Hearts, House of Mouse and other crossovers that really aren't all that good in retrospect but I find fun AREN'T 'better' because they're from my childhood and so couldn't be garbage. No, they are. The issue I have with Mirrorverse is the same issue I have with that awful Chip n' Dale Rescue Rangers movie:

it's Disney selling you you're own fanfiction premises and making it so you don't have to think or be creative, snark on, reinvent or just have with these properties yourself. You have to do it under the lens of something they can sell to you.

Kingdom Hearts was only ever trying to sell you itself and the current Disney thing at the time, which was what was expected of it. House of Mouse was hokey fun with the Mickey gang and the catalogue of classic characters Disney had, which is why so many people like it. It's all made for money and profit and brand recognition come on Disney has always been this way it's what Walt would have wanted.

Mirrorverse is wearing the skin of a heartfelt fan design project to sell you a sandbox game where Disney makes your favorite characters OP Overwatch ripoffs, not you.

As YMS put it, Chip n' Dale is putting on the guise of being self-aware which actually just being references and mean interpretations of it's own characters. The Lonely Island was wasted.

And they're doing all this more than ever to have a deeper stranglehold on their fandom which they know will fork over money to them no matter what. That's what's not just slimey, like it's always been, but sinister about modern Disney.

I refuse to use that asshat Steven Crowder image meme here. You legit aren't changing my mind.

#someone direct me to the 'mirrorverse critical' tag whereever that is I can't find it #disney critical #disney criticism #franki's features #disney remakes #rescue rangers #chip n dale #long live fanfiction #kingdom hearts #rant #mini rant

[boysborntodie]

I always got the feeling that Two liked the Mickey Mouse cartoons because of its typical fast-paced humour and slapstick. He could’ve just as easily loved Tom and Jerry or Looney Toons. It’s not like just had a special interest in Disney or Mickey Mouse (like if you’ve watched these cartoon you’d kinda see where I’m coming from). He wouldn’t like more modern Mickey Mouse cartoons like Clubhouse or House of Mouse

#it’s not really an example of two being unserious and childish #these cartoons appealed to everyone #the outsiders #two bit mathews #se hinton

[sandbees]

Masterlist

Last Updated - Jun 24, 2023

Ask Rules (PLEASE READ!!!)

Link to my AO3

Link to my QUOTEV

Alts - @keys-reblogging

Twisted Wonderland

Child! Yuu

Gen Z! Yuu/Modern! Yuu

House of Mouse AU

Blot! Yuu

Ghost Trio

Dorm Swap (Incomplete)

Disney Fanatic! Yuu

Parent! Yuu

Undertale AU

Miscellaneous

Miscellaneous 2

MCYT

Wilbur's Nightmare

Genshin Impact

Call Upon Your Heroes

#Masterlist

[wooahaes]

so this is love

pairing: non-idol!prince!vernon x fem!reader

prompt: disney cinderella au BABEYYYY this ones for ME bc i was sad

word count: 4.4k

warnings: abusive stepfamily since it’s a cinderella au. love at first sight, pretty much. fairy godparent!shua, seungkwan is a mouse, mingyu is a dog. jeonghan gets to be a horse. good for them. intentional lowercase + no proofreading.

daisy’s notes: ok pretend i didnt just spend the last two hours writing this when  ihave a doctors appointment today. i wanna do a second part for this later btw thats a modern au which is part of the reason i used hansol instead of vernon. shh. just take love at first sight fic that i wrote to make myself feel better.

all you wanted was one night for yourself. one night to just go to the ball and maybe have the chance to see royalty for yourself.

the ball itself was meant to celebrate the king’s daughter’s birthday, and she wanted a masquerade with an open invitation to everyone in the kingdom (you’d always liked her: even if you knew there’d be guards everywhere to keep the royal family safe, she at least gave people the chance to come see them and escape their daily lives for once). your family--your step-mother and sisters--had given you your usual list of chores with another stacked atop it, and ever the diligent daughter, you took to working hard for the day. if you finished everything, you could go. that was the deal your step-mother had made you. your dress had been unfinished last you checked, and the later it became, the more likely you knew that you’d be left at home for another silly party of nobles.

then you returned to your bedroom at the top of the manor, downtrodden until the mice and birds you would talk to (they were much better company than your family, that was certain) had somehow managed to finish your dress for you. kindness truly would always be rewarded with kindness--that had been what your father said before his passing. the world needed more kind people, and you promised him you would always stay as warm and loving as he and your birth mother had been.

even when your dress was ripped to shreds, you kept your trembling fists at your side and retreated out into the remains your mother’s garden. all that was left were the food you’d grown there, pumpkins and tomatoes and the like, that you could use for meals now. you’d always missed the pretty flowers. but the carriage took off with your step-family inside, and you were left alone to sob to yourself.

you missed your parents. your mother would have gently stroked your hair and told you there’d always be another ball. your father would have stood up for you himself, like he always used to when your step-siblings stole your toys when you were children. then again, you wouldn’t even be outside crying. you’d be in that carriage, off to escape the dreary day to day life you knew. even if you were still running the house, your father would have granted you one night to yourself. you were positive of that.

“it’s just no use,” you sobbed aloud, face buried in your arms. your hair was in disarray, the fabric seemed far more itchy now than it’d been before. once you were calm, you’d change back into your everyday clothing and forget about all of this. “it’s just so pointless...”

“pointless?” a hand stroked your hair gently. “i don’t think so at all,” he said gently. “dreams are good, after all. you’ll be okay if you keep dreaming.”

“why should i?” you refuted, not caring to look up. “look where it got me...”

“dreaming made you into the person you are today,” he said. “and i think she’s stronger than this. chin up,” he chuckled. “i promise you’ll be fine.”

... who were you crying on, actually?

you drew back, looking up, only to gasp and recoil away at the face of a kind man with pretty, gentle brown eyes dressed in pale blue robes. “who are you? this is private land!” you pulled yourself together as best as you could, despite a tear-stained face and a stuffy nose. “i’ll...” you trailed off. no one human was home, but you had gyu. “i have a dog and he’ll bite.”

the man laughed at you, light and airy. “i know how this might look,” he stood, dusting himself off. “but i promise i’m only here to help you. after all... i wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you dreaming.”

you stared at him. “so... i’m asleep?”

“not at all,” he said. “but we don’t have time to talk, do we? you want to go to the ball, don’t you?”

you nodded eagerly. “more than anything,” you said, and then looked down at the tattered remains of your dress. “but... i don’t have a way to go.”

he walked over to you, hands cupping your face. “it’ll be okay,” he said. “i’m here. consider me your fairy godparent, here to make your dream come true.”

... he could? you looked at him with hope in your eyes, and he pressed a gentle kiss onto the crown of your head.

“let’s see...” he paused, pulling a wand out of thin air. “you’ll need a carriage, won’t you? now let’s see...” he walked away from you, poking through the pumpkins. “you sing to them, don’t you?”

“i...” you felt your face heat up.

“i can tell,” he smiled. “how about this one?” he gently tapped one with his wand, and you gasped when it stirred from it’s position. the vines seemed to snap themselves from the ground as it pulled itself up with a lug, crawling away from where it’s once sat. it felt surreal to watch the vines extend, almost as though stretching from a long slumber, and barrel away.

with a wave of his wand, the man sent sparkles after it that spiraled around the pumpkin and made it grow larger with each bounding steps. vines curled into pure white wheels, the orange overtaken by white and gold. windows seemed to carve themselves out, disappearing into thin air as the muck inside of the pumpkin turned into soft curtains that were drawn.

it almost made you say something unladylike, that was certain. instead, you turned back to the other pumpkins, almost questioning whether they all had that potential.

“it takes a bit of magic,” he hummed, “those are still normal as something grown with love can be. now let’s see... we’ll need a driver, won’t we?”

you watched him turn his sights on gyu, who’d been sitting near the door, watching this whole thing go down. the dog perked his ears up when your fairy godparent met gaze with him. he walked over, giving the dog a gentle pat on the head.

“you’ll play your part, don’t worry,” he said reassuringly. “but for someone to drive the horses...” he turned his attention to hannie, your horse who’d been watching from a safe distance. “someone who knows the roads.”

with another wave of his wand, you watched as hannie was lifted with ease by magic. sure enough, he was transformed into a man who was easily lifted over and into the driver’s seat of your carriage. he gave you a smile and a wave after taking a moment to look over his body.

“and for horses...” he turned to where the mouse had been sitting with curious eyes. “you’ll do.”

another wave of the wand and you watched the four trying to scatter be turned into three horses of varying shades--and you saw your fourth, little kwannie, trying to dart away.

“oh, dear,” you said, hurrying over to gather him. he darted into your hands, squeaking quietly. “do you have to?”

“don’t you want to help her?” your fairy godparent said to the mouse. “it’ll only be for tonight.”

kwannie squeaked again. “good,” the man said in response, palm exposed as the mouse scrawled into his hand. “thank you, little one.”

he set his hand back to the ground, mouse scurrying away as he cast another spell. soon enough he had joined the rest, neighing proudly at his new, large state. your stepmother’s cat should see him now--you’re sure the rotten old thing would be scared into taking the baths he loathed despite getting himself dirty so often.

“what else do we need...” he mused to himself. “how would you like to be a footman?” he turned back to gyu, who began wagging his tail as he perked up. “just the job for you, hm?”

he waved his wand once more, and you watched your loyal companion be turned into a tall man, dressed in fancy white clothing.

“oh, gyu,” you cooed, reaching up to straighten him out a little more. “you look wonderful!” kwannie let out a whiny, and you giggled to yourself as you stroked his mane. “you all do, silly.”

your fairy godparent turned back to you, chuckling quietly to himself. “i can see why they love you,” he said. “and now it’s your turn,” he said, walking over. “stand still for me, love.”

you did as he told you, watching as he took a few steps back. with a deep breath, you braced for the impact of a spell to hit you: and soon enough, it did. you felt your gown shift and change around you, snug and cozy as could be, and the slippers you’d been wearing shifted as well. you opened your eyes, looking down at the pretty white fabric that you now wore. you’d miss the dress you were wearing beforehand--before it was destroyed, at least--because it’d been in your favorite color, but this was beautiful in its own right. you twirled, skirt flaring out around you as you giggled to yourself and hurried to take a look at your reflection in the fountain.

“the slippers are a gift,” he told you. “i know you look wonderful, but you should go,” he gently pulled you away and toward the carriage. “have a good time, my love. the magic wears off at midnight,” he pressed another kiss onto the top of your head. “and one final thing...”

one gentle tap at your temple, and a mask appeared over your eyes.

“no one would have recognized you without it, but it is a masquerade ball,” he teased you gently. “can’t forget that, can we?”

you hugged him tight, feeling his warm arms wrap around you. “thank you so much,” you whispered.

“your welcome,” he said. “now off you go,” he helped you step up into the carriage.

you waved farewell to him as hannie set the horses off, gyu sitting across from you with the dopiest smile on his face. he looked at you as everyone else did: with the love of someone who’d been loved in turn, kindness in your actions against them. even when you had to scold him for chasing your stepmother’s awful cat around. with the horses at full gallop to get you to the ball on time, you merely sat back and watched the scenery. how long had it been since you’d gone into town not on business for your family? too long, certainly. you were living primarily supported by your father’s money, things he’d gained for being a war hero before his passing, but you were primarily in charge of all financials related to food. as frustrating as it was for your step-family to waste what they could, you made things work. maybe one day you’d come out into the town and visit the baker again. seokmin always had something sweet for you, free of charge because you’d helped him a few times out of your own need to care for people.

guards were lined up everywhere at the palace, and you didn’t blame the royal family for being cautious. gyu helped you out of the carriage, and you were left to wander up on your own since the party was already in full swing. a guard had pointed you in the right direction, though, the ballroom just up ahead. yet you were too fascinated by how luxurious life must be in the palace. you could hear names being read off in the distance, the royal family likely greeting the nobility of the kingdom. your step-sisters were likely among them. if you were lucky, you’d maybe catch a glimpse of the royal family. that’d be something you could gossip with the tailor’s son, minghao, about for weeks when you had to see him. no doubt one of your family would need something new, and his family always had the best work.

unknowingly to you, hansol had spotted you from within the ballroom. being forced to greet every single person that he knew was secretly vying for his hand was frustrating. yes, it was his sister’s celebration, but he overheard the way his parents were set on having every eligible maiden in the kingdom come. he was of marrying age, after all. to have him betrothed to someone noble would help strengthen their ties, even if he had this (perhaps foolish now, considering he was a prince) romantic idea of finding someone he could love. he stifled a yawn halfway through the list, apologetic in how rude the action would be. but it was all so dull, even with his sister gently teasing him. noblewoman after noblewoman bowing as low as they can, some explicitly trying to catch his gaze with low-cut dresses that felt far too scandalous to wear in front of royalty.

and yet there you were, wandering outside without a care in the world. the last name had been read off, the music already beginning to start up, and hansol excused himself to find you. he knew his father’s steward would have spotted him on his way over, and likely would have stopped him if he hadn’t politely ducked through the crowd fast enough to not be stopped.

“is this your first time in the castle?” he asked, and you gasped as you turned to face him. “i’m--sorry,” he chuckled, “you looked lost.”

“i’m just...” you looked around. “i suppose i am a little lost,” you giggled, genuine and adorable in your starstruck reaction.

“are you here for the princess?” he nodded toward the ballroom.

you smiled at him. “to celebrate her, yes. but i’m afraid i don’t see myself meeting her--or any of her family, for that matter.” you looked back inside. “i wouldn’t be so lucky.”

“would you?” he smiled. “why is that?”

“all i wanted is a nice night,” you admitted. “being able to celebrate the princess is wonderful, but i wouldn’t want to intrude on her or her family. i can’t imagine how much stress all of this must be. to invite everyone here?” you met his gaze. “and being responsible for greeting them? i can only imagine how hard it must be.”

hansol felt something in his chest stir at that. genuine compassion for another person, and you didn’t even seem to know who he was. “would you like to dance?” he extended his arm to you.

and oh, that pretty smile would make every single thing he dealt with tonight worth it. “i’d love to.”

hansol never believed in love at first sight. but guiding you back out into the ballroom, knowing that you had no clue who he was and were treating him lovely nonetheless... it made his heart skip a beat. holding you in his arms did, too. for the rest of the night, he didn’t need anyone else there. let his parents see you with him. their plan to use his sister’s party to find him a bride could be considered a success if you were truly the warm person you seemed to be.

“do you want to get out of here?” he asked you at one point, and you smiled at him. “yeah you do,” he chuckled, taking your gloved hand in his own. “let’s go.”

you were happy to escape with this stranger. he was no prince (although, truly, you thought he was better than a stuffy prince would be with that pretty twinkle in his eye as he stole away with you outside), but he was charming in his own right. he told you he loved music, speaking to you about the works of lee jihoon with unrivaled passion. no one else bothered you as the two of you listened to the distant sound of the string quartet inside. was it silly to be so fond of someone who was so kind to you already? perhaps so. but he was lovely. you wanted to dance with him again, and he was content to hold you close and gently hum along to the songs inside.

and perhaps it was silly, but when he drew back to look you in the eyes...

“may i kiss you?”

you wanted nothing more than that. his lips were about to brush yours when the clock struck, ringing out twelve times. 

oh no. your timing was awful and you knew it, but you tore away from him. “oh--”

he stared at you, dumbfounded considering how close you’d been. “i’m sorry?”

“no! i just--” you took a breath. “i haven’t seen any of the royal family,” you said. “and my family is leaving soon, so i must go--”

“wait!”

you took off, slipping through the crowd as quickly as you could. you could hear your dashing stranger calling out for you to wait, to stop and talk to him, but all you could focus on was getting out. you descended each step as quick as you could, nearly tripping as one of your slippers came loose. with a gasp, you turned to try and grab it, only to see someone else rushing after you--the king’ steward, seungcheol, who had brought you the invitation in person. you abandoned it instead: it’d disappear in time, most likely, and you needed to get out now. gyu had helped you climb back into the carriage, horses taking off the moment the door was almost completely shut.

you breathed a sigh of relief. that had been close, and even though you knew your time was running short before the magic completely disappeared, you at least had a start back home. gyu perked up, and you realized you could hear horses as well.

had you done something wrong? you squeezed your eyes shut, praying that you hadn’t. all you did was dance the night away with a handsome stranger with a love for music. that wasn’t a crime, was it? you hadn’t even had your chance to see the prince or any of the rest of his family.

oh well. at least you had the memory of almost kissing that man. surely he was nobility in his own right. perhaps you’d get your chance to find him again someday when life treated you more kindly. even after your carriage fell apart, your horses and coachman and footsman all turned back into their normal form, you were happy. your dress had disappeared into the torn strands of fabric it’d been before, but it took barely taking a step for you to realize you still had your other slipper. you held it out for your little mice friends to climb into, kwannie looking up at you with a sniffing nose with joy in those little eyes.

“it was wonderful,” you told him. “let’s go home. stepmother won’t be home until the party ends, most likely.”

despite having to walk the rest of the way home barefoot, you were happy to recount the night to your companions. they held no responses save for the happy yip or whiny or squeak, but that didn’t stop you. you took care of what you could when you returned home, cleaning up the ripped fabric and spilled beads from your dress before returning to bed. you’d fall asleep happy that night, and you hoped you’d dream of pretty brown eyes and a completed kiss.

meanwhile, hansol was positive he felt something for you that he hadn’t felt for anyone else. and if his parents wanted him to marry soon, then so be it. but he’d only marry the girl who fit that slipper. it’d only meant to be his way of stalling, truly--if it fit someone else, he knew what you looked like... mostly. his sister apologized for choosing a masquerade before teasing that she never expected him to find his true love there.

and, of course, his parents both took the bait. seungcheol would be sent out to find the girl who fit that slipper, and hansol had his time to figure out what to do next. he’d given the description of what you looked like as best as he could. he’d find you again someday, even if all he could do was sit in the castle and wait.

you’d been excited when the news came, even if it had been through what your stepmother had been telling your stepsisters. the prince had been looking for someone who fit a glass slipper.

you’d been dancing with the prince.

the prince wanted you.

the dreamy look on your face had said everything, and despite the gut feeling you had to stay downstairs, to stay where you could stay free, you felt a need to change and be presentable for company. your stepmother locked you in your room despite your cries to reconsider, that you would make sure she was taken care of if the prince found you. she seemed convinced you’d leave and never look back. perhaps that was a sign that your kindness would never be met in turn, but that wouldn’t stop you from trying even after you heard her disappear down the stairs. there was no fairy godparent to save you from your tears then as you heard the horses whiny outside, the steward likely having arrived. even if you called to him, he wouldn’t hear you from your window. you almost wished you had the sheets to tie together to scale the outside wall.

so you pulled yourself together. this door was nothing compared to someone who wanted their happy ending. your stepmother had put you in this room when you were barely a teenager, letting you cope with everything that came with that by yourself. while she and your stepsisters lived their comfortable life downstairs, you happily put up with the draft and the dust and the rotten wood here and there. you’d do it again if it meant you could fight for this ending.

one instance of throwing yourself into the door hadn’t been enough, and neither had two. but you could hear the wood cracking, the metal of the door threatening to give way if you hit it one last time. so you did, shoulder slamming hard into it. you had to catch yourself on the railing, nearly crying out in victory. doing so much physical labor around the house had paid off in one way, hadn’t it? but you paused, turning to glance at yourself in your little mirror before taking a deep breath. you retrieved your glass slipper, tucking it away carefully as you descended the steps.

“are you sure you don’t have any other daughters?” you could hear the steward ask your stepmother. “the prince was insistent on every maiden, my lady.”

“please wait!” you called out, rushing down the steps. you met seungcheol’s gaze, taking just a moment to catch your breath now that he’d seen you.

“she’s just a servant girl,” your stepmother coldly said. “a child. she wouldn’t have been there last night. do not entertain her delusions--”

“the rules were every maiden,” he stayed firm, smiling at you. almost as if he knew it was you.

but fate wasn’t completely kind: your stepmother’s cat darted out in front of him, and you watched him gasp, losing grip on the slipper he carried. it flew through the air, landing on the ground and shattering into pieces. you could see his hopes shattering, too, as he panicked. you could see the anger in his face as he wanted to say something, to argue that her awful cat had done that on purpose.

“please don’t worry,” you told him as you made your way to the bottom of the steps. “you see... i have the other slipper,” you pulled it out, surprise evident on everyone’s faces. they’d been a gift, after all: gifts weren’t meant to be taken back.

hansol paced the corridor as he waited for you. they’d find you, wouldn’t they? even if he had to go out and search every house, he would find you and bring you back if you’d allow him. all he wanted was someone kind as you to stand at his side. he’d told his parents that you hadn’t recognized him as royalty and treated him lovingly--that meant something, hadn’t it? that you were so kind regardless of a person’s status? that was something he’d want in a queen, if he were to take the throne one day. if not a queen, then a wife. a partner in general, truly. seungcheol had promised him he’d do everything in his ability to find you, your description committed to memory. but as time ticked past, he grew more antsy. 

the doors finally opened. the steward stepped in, announced your name, and he knew. he knew it was you before you even stepped in, that dreamy look in your eyes. others would have politely waited for him to summon them, or would have walked over politely and curtsied, but not you. he saw relief in your eyes as you rushed over to him, and he caught you in his arms and held you tight. not even a full day and he’d craved your embrace again.

“it’s you,” he said quietly. “good.”

“do you truly think you want me?”

“i don’t think,” he said. “i know,” he held your face in his hands. “may i kiss you?”

you smiled at him. you had time to get to know him properly, but if he was going to be this sweet to you... you had a feeling you’d love him. “yes.”

“are you going to run away this time?” he teased.

he loved the way you giggled at him in response. “would you chase me?”

“yes,” he said. “a thousand times over.”

you smiled at him once more and then leaned in to press your lips against his own. sealed with a kiss, you had found your happy ending with nothing but kindness in your heart and a blossoming love between the two of you. perhaps it was important to hold onto dreams: dreaming brought you joy, and that brought you to hansol. if you could go back and do everything over again, you would keep it the same if you could always have this ending. a happy ending in life wasn’t just that: it was the start of a life to be lived well and loved with every ounce of your being.

so hello, happy ending day one. you were ready to greet it.

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #vernon x reader #vernon x you #svt vernon x reader #svt vernon x you #chwe hansol x reader #chwe vernon x reader #chwe vernon x you #chwe hansol x you

[schibi12]

So i just finished watching Once Upon A Studio and i genuinley loved it.

I felt like i was watching House of Mouse for the first time, it was so joyful, fun and surprisingly emotional, yes that silent scene of Mickey and the picture of Walt made me tear up.

The animation was so good with all the 2D and 3D models was just perfect.

Also loved that they had a good balance on classic, old, forgotten, beloved and modern characters to show.

Anyway it's a great special to celebrate Walt Disney Animation Studio and heres to 100 years more! 🥂

#schibi rambles #disney #once upon a studio

[princesssarisa]

"A Christmas Carol" Adaptations: Top 5 Saddest Versions of Tiny Tim's Death (long)

@ariel-seagull-wings, @cliozaur, @warrioreowynofrohan

Since the Christmas season is almost officially over, and my annual hyperfixation on A Christmas Carol will need to be paused for another year, I decided to make this post while I still can.

These are my votes for the five saddest, most poignant filmed versions of the vision in Christmas Yet to Come of the Cratchits mourning Tiny Tim's death. A scene which fortunately never takes place in the real world thanks to Scrooge's redemption, but which is still heartbreaking as the Ghost shows Scrooge what might happen.

Honorable mentions include the silent graveside scene in Mickey's Christmas Carol (Mickey Mouse crying – enough said), the similar brief yet touching graveside scenes in Scrooge (1970), A Christmas Carol: The Musical (2004), and Scrooge: A Christmas Carol (2022), and the scenes in the 1938 MGM film (mainly for the quiet yet deep grief Gene Lockhart's Bob conveys under the brave face he wears) and the 1999 TV film (mainly for showing Tim's body as Bob sits by his bedside, the first version since 1935 to do so).

Scrooge (1935) (Donald Calthrop as Bob Cratchit, Barbara Everest as Mrs. Cratchit, Sir Seymour Hicks as Scrooge)

This is the most complete rendition of the scene from the book, and it's well done. From the opening as Mrs. Cratchit leaves Tim's bedroom in tears, through the subsequent slow pan through the house's main room, showing the gloomy children and Tim's empty stool and crutch amid gentle music, the poignant tone is established, and it increases after Bob comes home. This Bob avoids breaking down in front of his family, but as he slowly walks up the stairs toward the bedroom, alone, he's suddenly overwhelmed and sobs into his hands. Then he slowly enters the candlelit room, where – in a rare touch that no adaptation would repeat until 1999 – we see Tim's body laid out on the bed in full view. Ever slowly, Bob approaches, sits down, and murmurs "My little child," then kisses Tim's forehead. The whole sequence, underscored by soft choral music, has an air of delicate grief and reverence, similar to the famous scene of Disney's seven dwarfs mourning for Snow White that would premiere two years later. It might seem almost mawkish by modern filmmaking standards, but in an unabashedly old-fashioned and stagy 1930s film, it works. Meanwhile, the unseen Scrooge utters the narrator's words from the book: "Tiny Tim, thy childish essence was from God!" The scene ends with consolation, though, as Bob goes back downstairs and tells his family about Fred's sympathy, then gives his speech about how none of the family will forget Tiny Tim (holding Tim's crutch as he speaks it), and they all gather warmly around him. Dickens would have approved of a scene so faithful to his writing.

A Christmas Carol (2009) (Gary Oldman as Bob Cratchit, Lesley Manville as Mrs. Cratchit, Jim Carrey as Scrooge)

This CGI motion-capture film gives Tiny Tim the short shrift as a character, but it makes this scene effective through its portrayal of the family's raw grief and of Scrooge's horror at what his selfishness has caused. Whether to keep the scene fresh or due to changing social mores about grief, there's much less emphasis than usual on the family trying to be cheerful and hide their pain for each other's sake, and more open emotion. Most of the scene shows the Cratchits at a distance, without close-ups, but the pain can be heard in their voices: Mrs. Cratchit is crying, the daughters are crying, and even teenage son Peter is just barely restraining his tears. Then when Bob arrives, he makes only a brief, feeble attempt at cheerfulness before breaking down sobbing "My little child!" in anguish. Then comes the unforgettable moment, which takes full, rare advantage of the fact that the Cratchits can't see or hear Scrooge: Bob wanders to the stairs, where Scrooge is sitting, and unknowingly on Bob's part, the two men come face to face. Scrooge is horrified by the sight of Bob's exhausted, red-eyed, utterly broken face staring into his own. He longs to comfort him and apologize for failing to save Tim, and chokes out "Bob!" in an anguish-soaked voice – that single syllable may be Jim Carrey's best acting in the film. Yet Bob walks straight through him to go up to the bedroom, where we see just the shadow of Tim's body cast on the wall by the candlelight as Bob sits down and sobs at his bedside. Without losing Dickens' gentle touch, this is probably the most raw rendition of the scene.

A Christmas Carol (1984) (David Warner as Bob Cratchit, Susannah York as Mrs. Cratchit, George C. Scott as Scrooge)

This rendition of the scene is slightly more subdued than the above two, but its "tenderness and depth of feeling" (in the words of this version of Scrooge) stand out all the same, chiefly thanks to the acting of David Warner and Susannah York. As portrayed by York, Mrs. Cratchit is clearly the family's pillar of strength in this version, more so than in others; through her face is weary with grief, she restrains her tears – albeit not without a quiet struggle – and provides support and stability to her family. Meanwhile, Warner's Bob is warm and tender as always, and he tries to be cheerful, but his pain is closer to the surface than his wife's. As he speaks of visiting Tim's grave, he finally breaks down and weeps quietly into his youngest daughter's hair; then he tries to pull himself together and assures his family of how grateful he is to still have all of them, only to break down again while telling them about Fred's sympathy. But Mrs. Cratchit takes gentle command of the moment and encourages her husband: "Tim is part of all of us. For his sake, we must go on living. So long as we love one another, he will always be alive." Bob takes her words to heart, but he adds that surely none of the family will ever forget Tiny Tim, which the children all assure their parents that they never will. "I am a truly happy man" Bob concludes; despite the scene's sadness, we feel that he means it, with such a wonderful, tender family to support him through the loss and to always treasure Tim's memory. This scene stands out for the Cratchits' sheer warmth, tenderness, and quiet strength as they support each other.

Scrooge (1951) (Mervyn Johns as Bob Cratchit, Hermione Baddeley as Mrs. Cratchit, Alastair Sim as Scrooge)

This film is widely considered the greatest cinematic Christmas Carol, so naturally its version of this scene is especially poignant. It opens with a pan through the melancholy room as Peter reads a long passage from the Bible: not the Mark verse quoted in the book, but Psalm 91, which describes God providing strength and refuge. This change enhances young Peter's characterization, I think, showing his effort to support his mother and sisters through the tragedy. But he can only do so much, as we see Mrs Cratchit gaze mournfully at Tim's empty stool and crutch, and as their subsequent dialogue places Peter in closeup and makes his own grief for his little brother evident. When Bob arrives, the script departs from Dickens' dialogue as he tenderly describes his visit to the spot where Tim will be buried. He reveals that as he stood there, he seemed to feel Tim's hand slip into his own, and he felt comforted; he believes Tim's spirit was there, telling him that he's happy now and that the family must stop grieving and try to be happy too. But Mrs. Cratchit can only look at him with her eyes full of tears, and at the sight of her grief, Bob finally gives into his own. "Oh Tim! My Tiny Tim!" he sobs, burying his face in his hands. His wife kneels down and clasps him in her arms, and the scene ends as they hold each other in anguish. The musical score, with a gentle rendition of "Silent Night" underscoring Peter's Bible verse, and a slow version of Tiny Tim's theme – an innocent, music box-like tune – underscoring Bob's speech, adds greatly to the scene's moving effect.

And the #1 rendition of the scene:

The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992) (Kermit the Frog/Steve Whitmire as Bob Cratchit, Miss Piggy/Frank Oz as Mrs. Cratchit, Michael Caine as Scrooge)

Maybe it's sacrilegious to give my preference to a version of this scene where the Cratchits are frogs and pigs. But somehow, the Muppets and Michael Caine give it a poignancy like no other. The Cratchits go through the same motions they did in Christmas Present – Mrs. Cratchit and the children busy preparing dinner in the kitchen, the children all hugging Bob when he arrives, etc. But instead of happily bustling around, Mrs. Cratchit is crying; instead of comically tackle-hugging Bob, the children hug him tenderly and sadly; and rather than from church, Bob has come from the churchyard. He reveals that he chose a gravesite for Tim "where he can see..." but then stops, and explains that it has a view of the ducks on the river, which Tim loved to watch. Kermit's Bob has no "My little child!" breakdown – true to Kermit's character as a leader, he stays strong for his family – but his grief is still very clear. Each time he says "Tiny... Tim," he struggles as if he can hardly bear to say his son's name. Meanwhile, Scrooge is distraught. "Oh Spirit," he pleads, "must there be a Christmas that brings this awful scene? How can we endure it?" Finally, Bob consoles his children, saying "Life is made up of meetings and partings, that is the way of it," and that surely they'll never forget Tiny Tim. The tone of delicate yet deep sadness is only enhanced by the score, which gently reprises Tim's song "Bless Us All" throughout the scene. At the end, the camera slowly zeroes in on Tim's empty chair and crutch by the fireplace, as a horn plays the melody of "And in our prayers and dreams, we ask you bless us all." Making this scene even sadder is its subtext for the Muppets: the recent deaths of Jim Henson and puppeteer Richard Hunt. Kermit/Bob's "meetings and partings" speech is easily just as much about Henson and Hunt as about Tiny Tim. For that reason and others, this has my vote as the most poignant filmed version of Dickens' sad scene.

#a christmas carol #adaptations #comparison #tiny tim #bob cratchit #scrooge 1935 #a christmas carol 2009 #a christmas carol 1984 #scrooge 1951 #the muppet christmas carol #tw: death #tw: child death

[alanshee-keeper-of-realms]

Mickey Mouse, a General Study

His name is Michael Mouse, he's better known as Mickey Mouse, especially with his beloved partner Minnie by his side, three simple circles as Walt once said a universal symbol,

He has watched over nearly a century of life as so many Toons come to life, yet so many Toons die. So many of them forgotten, so many of them just disappeared from history.

His own brother Oswald the Lucky Rabbit being one of these forgotten cartoons, leaving him wondering of his own identity, but then someone pointed out to him something so key and so important that drew him right out

He may not have been the first but he was the one to save them all when it mattered,

He was the one that everyone relied upon when it came down to what was important only because of his existence does Disney exist

I the writer dare say even if Oswald had been kept the Disney Company would not have made it,

Because there is something about Mickey that is special, he is all of us. There is a reason when we are angry at Disney we are not angry at Mickey. We may jokingly say we are, but we truly never really are. We are only angry at the company

But never the mouse

Because in him we see ourselves, we see our joy, our kindness, our stubbornness, our go get it atttude. Somehow, Walt Disney, Roy Disney Ub Iwerks these three men created a cartoon character that would transcend time, no matter what generation saw him, they could connect with him

Mickey Mouse is the definition of the American spirit, and I'm not talking about little white houses with their white picket fences. I'm not talking about that,

I'm talking about the American Spirit of defying all odds when adversity presents itself, smiling despite what we might be going through, but also being there as a friend going to pick up that sword but there is suddenly somebody standing beside you,

This is what not only Mickey represents but the whole entire main crew of Disney. Somehow, Walt Disney showed what it truly means to be American,

We are kind, joyful, full of hope, laughter, and love. We go through bad times, but we also go through good,

At the core of this, I think this is why Disney is floundering because they have forgotten this about Mickey their mascot and leader, they have gotten too safe, a company that's gripping on to their profits so tightly because that's all that matters to them anymore,

When if you look at Disney's history, Walt Disney took a loan out on his house and sold a vacation home to bring Snow White to everybody. Every single film was almost their last in the original days,

That is until we get to the modern era where they got too big and they got too comfortable and lazy,

This is what's going on with Disney, they don't have that threat anymore. You don't have that connection with the reality of the people, this is why everybody just sees it as a heartless company anymore

Because they have forgotten their roots and what again Mickey Mouse truly stands for as a cartoon character, as a model for everybody

It may not have started with a mouse, but by God, that Mouse picked up the sword and said it is not over just like any American would do in the face of adversity,

That's why he's lasted almost a century that's why he's so beloved because even if the company flounders, Mickey and crew will always be the characters we can always connect to.

But especially one Mickey Mouse the one who saved it All.

#character study #thoughts #disney #walt disney #roy disney #ub iwerks #disney company #minnie mouse #mickey mouse

[disneytva]

KidsScreen Interviews Disney Television Animation SVP Of Music Jay Stutler In Making New Music For The Company, The Studio Has Produced More Than 1000 Songs For Current And Upcoming Disney Channel and Disney+ Shows.

When You Wish Upon a Star, Beauty and the Beast, Under the Sea…when you think Disney, you think iconic music. And now, it’s working to translate that success to the small screen with a more modern approach to making music for new animated series headed to Disney Channel and Disney+

KidScreen interviews Disney Television Animation’s SVP of Music Jay Stutler in making new music for the company and making new legacy music at The Walt Disney Company as part of 100 years of beloved songs.

During the interview it was revealed that Disney TVA has created over 500 SONGS on 2022 and now 500 SONGS on 2023 for  current and upcoming shows for both Disney Channel and Disney+.

The new approach of music is in the new era at Disney Channel with shows like Big City Greens,The Ghost And Molly McGee,Hamster And Gretel,Moon Girl And Devil Dinosaur,Kiff,Hailey’s On It!,Primos,Cookies And Milk,Zombies The Re-Animated Series,Phineas And Ferb,Untitled Cheyenne Curtis Disney Series, Untitled Nic Smal and Lucy Heavens Disney Series,Untitled C.H Greenblatt Disney Series,Untitled Amy Hudkins Disney Series,Untitled Monica Ray Disney Series,Untitled Noah Z Jones & Ryan W Quincy Disney Series,Untitled Latoya Raveneau Disney Series & Untitled Dave Cooper Disney Series after taking over the serialized era that started on 2012 with Gravity Falls ending with The Owl House on early Spring.

The music will also be a key part of Disney+ in some curent and upcomingshows like The Wonderful World Of Mickey Mouse,Monsters At Work,The Proud Family: Louder And Prouder,Duffy And Friends,Zombies The Re-Animated Series,Phineas And Ferb,InterCats and serialized stop-motion comedy Rhona Who Lives By The River with the latter having original score and songs by Danny Elfman.

#Disney Television Animation #Disney TVA #DTVA #Disney TVA Music #Jay Stutler #Disney Channel #Disney+ #Disney Plus #Big City Greens #The Ghost And Molly McGee #Hamster And Gretel #Moon Girl And Devil Dinosaur #Kiff #Disney Kiff #Primos #Disney Primos #Cookies & Milk #Zombies: The Re-Animated Series #Phineas And Ferb #The Wonderful World Of Mickey Mouse #The Proud Family #The Proud Family Louder And Prouder #Duffy And Friends #InterCats #Rhona Who Lives By The River

[drama-glob]

if there was a reboot of house of mouse, can it feature characters from modern disney movies, Star Wars, marvel, lilo and stitch, and the nightmare before Christmas?

I'd say there is almost no way they wouldn't include all those characters and would most likely look like the Disney scene in "Ralph Breaks the Internet." ;)

#disney #house of mouse #ask me anything