funniest disney history facts i can think of atm
literally EVERYBODY thought the lion king was gonna flop and pocahontas would be their greatest movie ever made. people begged to ditch lion king and work on pocahontas.
the reason robin hood ends so abruptly is that there was an actual ending planned and storyboarded but the crew spent too long arguing about everyone’s fursonas to finish animating it
madam mim was way less comedic in the original book but because her character was too similar to maleficent (who was in their latest film at the time), the sword and the stone crew decided to differentiate her by making her fucking hilarious
when making a goofy movie, jeffrey katzenberg (studio chairman at the time) told bill farmer to give goofy “a normal voice.” farmer, who had been voicing goofy for eight years at that point, including in the goof troop show that a goofy movie was a sequel to, was very confused. after making an attempt they decided to scrap that note completely.
as of march 2023, farmer is still voicing goofy, and tony anselmo has been voicing donald since 1986. the 2017 reboot of ducktales, which was slated as “wanting to do for donald what goofy movie did for goofy,” featured both actors as those characters; they had also been doing the voices for the original ducktales and goof troop/goofy movie. all the times goofy and donald interact in the 2017 ducktales however, donald was voiced by guest star don cheadle as a joke
current voice of mickey mouse bret iwan has stated that he has attempted to play kingdom hearts and did not do well
disneyland’s current world of color halloween overlay features a plot that is basically “the disney villains simultaneously adopt a goth kid” and i love it
people will make jokes about “well math says that the beast would’ve been 11 when he was cursed” well that was actually the original intent, but a flashback scene of baby beast was scrapped because he looked “too much like eddie munster”
when disney sent a representative to pixar to check on toy story production, she was like “this is all great! what style of music are you thinking” and they were like “for what” “for the songs” “we uh. we weren’t gonna have. any songs” and she went dead silent and then went “i have to make a call” and left the room
saludos amigos and the three caballeros were made as ww2 propaganda. the government commissioned disney to make movies to make latin america like them so that they wouldnt side with the nazis and provide them an in to invade, and latin america really liked donald duck so
saludos amigos was apparently the first time many usamericans realized that latin american people were like. people. film historian alfred charles richard jr said that the film “did more to cement a community of interest between peoples of the americas in a few months than the state department had in fifty years”
while latin america generally liked both films, chilean cartoonist rené rios boettiger fucking hated the chilean segment of saludos amigos, seeing the main character of pedro the plane as a weakass bitch, so in response he created condorito, the most popular comic character in all of latin america
disney wanted to adapt ts eliot’s old possum’s book of practical cats. his widow adamantly refused, and then sold the rights to andrew lloyd webber bc he wanted to make it sexy and she said “tom would’ve liked that”
in case you haven’t seen the defunctland, walt disney wanted epcot to be a futuristic utopia where he was basically the dictator. then he died so they just made it another theme park
speaking of defunctland the first defunctland video was on disneyworld’s alien attraction and please watch it. please it’s so funny
after the huge failure of the black cauldron disney was going to shut down its animation department. the department tried to convince them to keep them alive by showing them the one scene they had finished for the next movie– the mouse burlesque from the great mouse detective. it worked
the only attraction the black cauldron ever got was in tokyo disneyland where they put a tour under cinderella’s castle where everyone had to escape the disney villains trying to kill them, only to end at the horned king and the cauldron, who would try to sacrifice them to satan. this tour was popular but was closed in the early 2000s as the tunnels didn’t fit earthquake regulations and i want it in disneyworld so bad
walt disney once referred to his unionizing workers, led by goofy’s creator art babbitt, as “commie sons of bitches,” and i want a mickey build-a-bear that calls me a commie son-of-a-bitch whenever i squeeze its paw
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I heard you’d like some requests, don’t mind if I do 👹 I could’ve sent 62 but I restrained myself:
*grumbling* "Some people are waaay too touchy."
if it inspires you, please!
emmy (upsidedownwithsteve) 🧡
@upsidedownwithsteve, my love! it was an honor to write for you! i hope you like it :D — eddie munson's a big, jealous grump at the bar (established relationship, fluff, 1.1k)
Eddie’s having a piss-poor night. His beer’s lukewarm, the music’s too loud, you’re too far away, and Steve Harrington hasn’t shut up in ten minutes.
He could hardly stand the dumbass everyone used to call The King, but even less when he’s got a golden arm thrown over your shoulder. And, yeah, it’s all friendly or whatever, but that hardly quells the wildfire burning in his chest. “What right does he have to touch you like this? Fucking none,” grumbles the wild-haired boy’s inner conscience.
But then again, no one does. Not even him.
“Think I should go buy her a drink?” Steve asks you over the blaring pop music. His honey eyes are pointed across the bar at a girl way out of his league. His slick mouth is far too close to your ear.
You roll your eyes. “I think you should be a gentleman and feel things out with her first—”
“Oh, I’m gonna feel things out with her, alright,” Steve scoffs, bringing the lip of the beer bottle to his mouth.
“—Before jumping into a one-night stand you only halfway recover from.”
The two of you turn to glare at each other, then. Gazes unwavering. Noses mere inches apart. Eddie makes a faint grumbly noise of protest about it, but the boyish sound of disgust goes unheard under the music.
But when I see you hanging about with anyone—
It’s not unusual to see me cry; I wanna die!
Someone’s been plugging the same goddamn Tom Jones song into the jukebox for six minutes now. Eddie feels like he might as well be in hell at this rate. It’d hurt less, he figures.
You and Steve seem to communicate telepathically until he inevitably caves first. He huffs until his puffed-out chest deflates, along with his stupid ego. He doesn’t know how you always seem to be right about everything. He fucking hates it, actually.
“Right. Whatever. I’m gonna go find Robin. She’s probably lost,” Steve deadpans with a sigh as he slides out from the booth. “Want anything?”
“Can you get me—”
“A spicy margarita?” he finishes for you — like he can read your fucking mind, Eddie grouses bitterly to himself. He hates that someone else knows you as well as he does.
You squint. “How’d you know?”
‘Cause it’s your favorite thing to drink after shots, Eddie answers in his head.
“Because we just had tequila shots. And you always want a spicy margarita after tequila shots,” Steve deadpans, then chuckles when your face scrunches. He pokes the very apple of your cheek and turns to the pouty boy across from you. “What about you, Eds? Want another beer while I’m up?”
Eddie shakes his head with a flat face, then takes a sip of his warm and hardly-sipped beer.
“Next round’s on you two, alright? I’m not your fucking boyfriend— you’re not getting free beers off me all night,” Steve chides lightheartedly before disappearing into the crowd.
You only smile to yourself as he goes. You know he’ll buy the whole damn bar out if you ask him to. ‘Cause that’s what best friends are for and all. Especially when they’re rich.
A groan bubbles in Eddie’s throat when the upbeat song starts all over again. It’s not unusual to be loved by anyone! the man croons. He drops his head to his elbow and bellows an annoyed moan. His chestnut curls spread wild over his shoulders.
You hide your grin behind your fist. “What’s wrong, Eds?”
“Nothin’,” he monotones, face still hidden.
“You haven’t said a word in twenty minutes.”
“Well, Steve hasn’t shut up in about thirty, so…” he retorts and lifts his heavy head, faking a smile as he tilts his flushed cheek to his shoulder. “Getting you two idiots into a room is fuckin’ crazy, you know that, right? Neither of you knows when to stop talking.”
Your nose scrunches. “Well, that’s what usually happens when you have friends, Eddie. You have conversations.”
“You sayin’ I don’t have friends, sweetheart?” he questions with narrowed, chocolate eyes.
“No,” you answer, grinning all pretty. “I’m sayin’ you’re jealous for no reason.”
His face falls flat at having been found out so quickly. Though he figures he wasn’t exactly being discreet about the whole thing. He grumbles and shifts awkwardly in his seat, feeling too seen beneath your unwavering stare.
“Some people are just way too touchy,” he grouses with a boyish sneer on his features, trying desperately to hide his pout behind the amber bottle in his fist. He takes another sip of the lukewarm liquid and averts his gaze.
Your beam widens until it brightens the dim bar. “You’re the one sitting all the way over there, you loon,” you tell him with a soft giggle that squints the edges of your eyes.
Eddie perks at the invitation. His doe eyes flit from the sticky table to your twinkling eyes. He’s been waiting on the offer all night, too much of a coward to ask you himself, and it shows on his suddenly hopeful features.
You nod your head to the empty spot beside you. “Get over here before Steve comes back and starts yapping again.”
Eddie rises with a newfound life, rounding the table and sliding into the squeaky booth beside you. He clutches his beer with his left hand and throws his right around your shoulder. His arm rests over the back of the booth where Steve’s once was, holding you like he’s been dying to all night.
“Better?” you grin.
He nods wordlessly, wild curls tickling your jaw. He takes another sip to hide his quiet smile when you press your lips to the flushed apple of his cheek.
Steve returns then, with your spicy margarita in one hand and Robin’s wrist in the other. She stumbles in behind him and sways in place ahead of the table — freckled cheeks rosy, ocean eyes glassy.
“Have fun?” you wonder with a teasing lilt.
“I saw something shiny on the way back from the bathroom,” the brunette girl confesses in tiny slurs. “Then I get lost…”
You nod sympathetically. “We figured.”
Steve nudges her ahead of him until Robin gets the hint. She slinks gracelessly into the booth. The boy squints as he slides you your drink. “You’re in my seat,” he observes, as if it weren’t blatantly obvious.
Eddie shrugs. “…Yeah?”
“You could’ve just asked to switch,” he scoffs and slips in beside Robin.
“I was fine,” the wild-haired boy insists, then nods his head over to you. “She’s the one that wanted me to move.”
And even though that’s not exactly what happened, you nod anyway. “Yeah. I got too tired of sitting next to you, Stevie,” you tease the boy ahead of you. “Your cologne’s too strong— you smell like a fucking high school boys’ locker room.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you had a ton of experience in those back in the day, didn’t you?” Steve scoffs.
Your eyes narrow. “Dick.”
“Jesus,” Eddie grumbles like a storm cloud. “Stop flirting.”
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Lucifer x Imp!Reader
warnings: imp bigotry, heavy topics, lowkey angsty (happy end, i swear)
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
• Secret relationship, baby!
• Let’s get into the hard part first, shall we? The discrimination of Imps isn’t something Lucifer set into motion. They helped him build Hell into what it is today—! Which is… flawed. Fuck, there’s no excuse. Know that he doesn’t condone it and he’s ashamed to admit he allowed it get this far
• That saying “history repeats itself”? Yeah, Hell isn’t immune
• It’s an elephant in the room situation when your and Lucifer’s feelings come into play. Along with the enormous power imbalance. He would never take advantage of that, by the way, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s there
• Those issues are in the beginning though. Yes, it takes a lot of time and many painful conversations but now? Undoubtedly worth it
• Lucifer is quite proud of himself for the charade he concocted. You pose as his employee! No one would question it and you could hang around as much as you like! It’s perfect, right?
• “It sounds like a shitty romcom plot.” You snort
Lucifer’s smile is unwavering, eyebrows high on his face as he awaits what he longs to hear.
“But?”
Sighing, you softly return his smile, “It’s perfect.”
• And like a shitty romcom, it is
• Naturally, there’s ups and downs
• For Lucifer, the worst is that he hates keeping you a secret. It’s not that he wants to dish it live with Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench, he’s rather private as is, he’s just so— happy! He wants to show how proud he is to be yours! Unfortunately, that would do more harm for all of Hell. Selfish as his wants might be, he wouldn’t do that. Especially if it meant putting you in danger
• Occasionally he takes you to meetings and events. You try and slip into the background, supporting him from the shadows. Even from the other side of the room, Lucifer’s eyes will find you standing amongst the other Imps. He accidentally ends up ignoring whoever’s trying to rub elbows with the King of Hell
• (Honestly, it’s a miracle no one has found you two out yet. His longing gazes are far from subtle)
• Sometimes those outings don’t end well. A blue blooded dickbag might’ve dumped their drink on you or shoved you because you were “in the way” or berated you in front of everyone. Lucifer sees red and the entire event is cut short via a demonic rage. On a positive note, his publicity goes off the charts! “King of Hell defends his people, no matter the race!”
• (A motherfucking miracle, I tell you)
• Lucifer likes to take care of you when those incidents occur. He feels guilty. For everything. Reassuring him has always easy for you in any other situation. This one just bleeds into something personal. A failure
• So, you let him take care of you. It improves his mood bit by bit. Could be pancakes! No matter the time of day, Lucifer’s go-to are pancakes. (He’ll simply die all over again if you let him feed you too) Could be a bath for the two of you to share, he loves washing you and putting a bubble beard on your face
• Sleepovers can be a tad difficult to pull off but no one disturbs him in the mornings. He loves having you in his arms all night long. Kissing your horns, forehead, eyes, nose and lips— yes, in that order— before wishing you only the sweetest dreams
• Lucifer has a rubber duck that looks uncannily like you sitting on his desk at all times
• Oh! And despite being an Imp, you’re still taller than your beloved short king. It’s slight but he adores the difference
♡ a/n: if i had a nickel for every time a blue blood fell in love with an imp, i’d have /three nickels HAHAHA
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