#mickey's ditties

[gallawitchxx]

29 for the kisses, please!

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send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚

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#29: ...as a promise

The digital clock on the wall is a goddamn tease.

How is it only three-thirty?

It’s not the worst job in the world, working the reception desk at an auto repair shop. It’s mostly just answering phones and handing out intake forms. Running credit cards upon drop-off and pick-up, and using what little knowledge he has about cars to field basic questions. Ian’s a little surprised that his parole officer had stuck him in a place that was clearly running some kind of illegal chop shop after hours, but whatever.

Southside is as Southside does.

But today has been fucking dragging. A shipping delay had pushed a ton of work back a week or two, so there was only one pick-up on the books, and it had already happened. At nine a.m., right at the beginning of his eight-hour shift. One can only clean a desk so many times before starting to feel a little buzzed off cleaning spray fumes, so for the past couple of hours, Ian’s been supremely bored, his mind bouncing from one topic to another, trying to keep him occupied, but away from the mechanical sounds coming from the belly of the shop.

The ones coming from the only mechanic on duty today—Mickey.

Jesus, Ian’s got it bad for the guy.

Between Mickey’s filthy fucking mouth, greased-up knuckle tattoos, and the way his ass looks in a pair of coveralls, Ian never really stood a chance. But then he had to go and be funny and smart and secretly sweet with the kids who come in with their parents, and in no time at all, Ian was halfway to being fully in love.

The way Mickey looks at him doesn’t help the situation either, nor does the coffee and Kind bar combo he drops at Ian’s desk every shift, which means Mickey heard and remembered an off-the-cuff comment Ian made one morning when discussing break room snacks with the shop owner.

But what’s really making things hard—literally—is what happened the last time he saw Mickey…

A few nights back, a freak downpour had collided with a blocked drainpipe and flooded the shop’s main floor. They’d had to shut the whole place down so that the mechanics could instead work on pumping rainwater back outside where it belonged. When the worst of it was over, Mickey promised to take care of the rest, shooing the other guys out the door and home to their families. Ian, who didn’t have anywhere to be, and was a bit distracted by the way Mickey’s wet tank top was clinging to his cut chest, offered to stay and help finish the job.

Help Mickey out with another job, too...

But that was days ago, and even though Ian’s knees still ache from where he’d knelt on damp concrete, they haven’t talked since. Not even when Mickey had dropped off his breakfast! Ian had been on the phone, the timing of which felt suspect.

By the time four-o-clock crawls around, Ian’s worked up the nerve to go say something. But then the chime on the door alerts him to someone coming in, and before he can even say hello, some asshole is screaming at him about promised timelines and demanding a refund.

Ian puts on his best customer service smile and tries to smooth things out, but it doesn’t work. More yelling ensues.

“Ey, there a problem up here?” Mickey’s voice cuts through the noise.

“Yeah, there is,” spits the douchebag. “My car was supposed to be ready a fucking week ago, and this idiot here can’t seem to make that happen.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Mickey says, taking a step forward. “Imma stop you right there.” He looks at Ian for the first time (since he came down his throat). “Gallagher, can you head to the back and grab me the project file? Should be somewhere on my station.”

Ian blinks. “But the files aren’t—“

“Now, Ian,” Mickey commands, his blue eyes blazing. “Go.”

“Sure thing,” he says, rising from his chair.

The rage-red moron has the nerve to fucking smirk at him, and fuck, Ian doesn’t fight anymore—swore to his court-ordered therapist he was done with that shit—but this asshole just might get him back in the ring. His hands itch as he passes, clenching and un-clenching as his jaw clicks.

Mickey avoids his gaze, which pisses him off even further.

Ian forces himself onto the shop floor, closing the door behind him.

A few minutes later, Mickey joins him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Ian scans him for signs of a struggle, but he looks good. Great, even, his cheeks pinked. “You?”

“Course. Forget that dick. Caved quick and left. It’s a fuckin’ shipping issue, ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

Ian nods, unsure what to do or how to proceed. After a beat, he mutters a weak thanks.

Fuck, it’s awkward.

Then,

“Didn’t know—”

“Listen, man, I—”

They both stop talking, laughing nervously, the tension breaking just enough for some of their natural chemistry to seep back into the situation. Ian’s hands now itch with a wholly new desire to touch and caress instead of maim.

“I coulda handled him, you know,” Ian mutters.

Mickey chuckles. “Don’t doubt that for a second. Thought you were gonna fuckin’ deck that dude.”

“I was—I would have…” Ian shrugs. “But if I went back to prison, we couldn’t finish what we started the other night.”

And well, that gets Mickey’s attention.

“Guess that makes me a hero or somethin’ then, huh?” His voice is like gravel as he steps into Ian’s space.

Ian stares at his mouth. “Or something.”

“Tell ya what…” Mickey stares back. “He comes back, we’ll kick his ass together. Can pin it on me if the pigs show up.”

“Promise?”

Mickey answers with his lips, his teeth, and his sinful fucking tongue.

By the time they leave for the night, their knees have matching bruises.

[howlinchickhowl]

I'm back, with a little belated dirty ditty for pornstar day, i wouldn't read this one at your desk pals. @gallavichthings 👋

Your Sweet Thing is Wreckin' Me seventeen - pornstar

He’s hotter in person. If that’s possible. Which it apparently is. You wouldn’t believe it was. But it is. He is. Way hotter, actually, than however many hours of videos Mickey has watched have allowed him to comprehend.

He’s hot. Is the bottom line. Mickey feels like his mouth is simultaneously watering and dry. They are posed together on the bed, still fully clothed in jeans and t-shirts and socks. Boots lined up neatly together by the door.

Ian’s big arm is resting around Mickey’s lower back, fingertips grazing at the skin of his hip just under the hem of his shirt in little drags that are making Mickey quiver. His other hand is covering Mickey’s knee, his whole knee just swallowed up under Ian’s massive palm, warm and dry and possessive.

It’s for show, of course. They’ve only just met, have only just exchanged names and sti test results before settling in, Ian wrapping himself around Mickey at the director’s request, and Mickey more than happy to be wrapped around.

It’s for show, but it’s not entirely fake. Ian’s effect on Mickey is not insubstantial and Mickey is sure he hadn’t imagined the hungry once over Ian had given him when they’d swapped papers before, pupils widening, glistening tongue slipping out to brush over a plush bottom lip. He’s pretty confident that Ian doesn’t hate the way he looks.

Ian confirms as much when the director starts asking them their warm up questions, a hallmark of HGF that lends an air of authenticity to the scenes and is a huge part of their popularity. What’s Ian’s type? Does he like the look of Mickey? What is he excited about most? Dark, rough, smaller than him, yes definitely, and eating Mickey’s ass, respectively.

Mickey’s own questions, yielded similarly Ian-focused answers, turning his head to look into the guy’s eyes and getting lost in the warm musky smell of him and the feel of his fingers gripping at Mickey’s hip.

And then they are kissing, and grabbing, and groping, and Mickey almost forgets the director and the camera-guy are there, except that the director asks them to move a certain way or switch positions.

Ian makes good on his promise to eat Mickey’s ass, spends a little too long down there despite the director urging him to switch out, just holds Mickey by the hips and goes to fucking town and Mickey spasms his way through nearly coming, finally reaching back and grabbing at Ian’s hair to get him to let up.

He gets to wrap his lips around Ian’s fucking megalith of a cock, even more mouthwatering up close and in person than on his screen at home, and he thinks he does a pretty good job judging by the way Ian’s hips keep jolting and his thighs shake under Mickey’s hands until Ian grabs him, basically by the ears and pulls him up into a mind-bending kiss that has Mickey so turned around he barely even notices that Ian has slathered him in lube and shoved a trio of thick freckled fingers inside of him until he pulls them out and replaces them with the main event.

Ian’s a pro, so it’s not exactly a scramble to the finish line, but Mickey’s quite proud of how franticly he seems to be pounding into him, how he seems determined to cover every inch of Mickey’s skin with his own even though the director keeps asking him to pull up and give the camera a little room. He does it, but he always ends up back in full contact mode, hands gripping at Mickey’s hips and shoulders and hands and face, kissing him and kissing him and kissing him until he pulls away, pulls out with a deep groan and blows his load all over Mickey’s chest and stomach and cock.

He falls down next to Mickey, bringing him off with one hand while threading the other through Mickey’s hair and pulling him into an incongruously tender kiss. They kiss while Mickey comes and into the afterglow, pulling apart to laugh when the director finally calls cut.

That was a hell of a ride, Mickey thinks to himself, laying on the bed catching his breath for a minute while Ian and the director shoot the shit. He’ll never watch another Ian video the same way again, maybe he’ll never watch another one, worried they’ll pale in comparison now that he’s had the full sensory experience. He gives himself a moment of sadness to mourn the death of some of his favourite jerkoff material.

Turns out though, once Ian has pulled him into the shower for a thorough rub down and a real-world fuck, he doesn’t need to worry about it.

[ashleymasenado]

BANGER ALERT

This isn't mine, but I figured I'd help spread the news that @jakeneutron has released another banger, and just in time for the Epic Mickey official remake too! I know some mutuals on Tumblr who would love to listen to this little ditty!

cough cough @sunny1927 @zenmom cough cough

[sisitrip]

Galladrabble - "Cling Koala"

For @flamingbluepanda's (thank you!) @galladrabbles prompt "Koala Hug", I offer my little ditty on Mickey discovering a phobia he didn't know he had. Our darling baby was shooketh. 😂

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The paper-clad table crackles as Mickey scoots closer to Ian. 

“You’ll barely feel it,” Ian soothes.

“Liar,” Mickey whispers, arms and legs tightening around Ian. “Fuckin’ thing’s huge.” 

“Mr. Milkovich, we need a baseline-” 

“Stick me and I ain’t responsible for what I hit when I swing,” Mickey warns the doctor, hiding in Ian’s neck. 

“Mick, it’ll be fast. Promise.”

With difficulty, Ian uncurls one of Mickey’s arms. The doctor quickly swabs it, taking a sample. 

“See Mickey, love? Done.” 

“A first-timers lollipop, Mr. Milkovich? What flavor-” 

“Fuck outta here!” Mickey bellows. 

Ian laughs into Mickey’s hair, holding him close.

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A/N: To the healthcare workers (in all areas) who make it their business to take care of us when we need you most, thank you. 😌

[sweet-beezus]

Ohhh yeah we delving into the sweet treats this fine day of @khoc-week!

These are the kind of fun little ditties that rot my brain day in and day out, so I'm thrilled to get to indulge in some fun, albeit short, writing about it!!

One day I will fully indulge and the world will implode-

Erm. Anyway-

*scribbles out that 'or' and shoddily writes in an 'and' in its place*

Day 3 - Friends (and) Lovers

While they are all super close to each other in one way or another, they each have their own unique relationships they make outside the Heart Hotel dynamic!

I'll still touch on their relationships with one another, but it's also what's outside the clique that counts~

Iris:

Her only big relationship is with Alto, their dynamic being "innocent baby man and grumpy keeper of the brain cell."

Despite that, Iris sees him in a best friend sort of way, the two were super close when they got separated, after all. When they reunite, it's almost if no time had passed, and perhaps Iris learns to... loosen up?

She made teammates and brief friendships, but nothing seemed to come close to their dynamic. Maybe if she had more time, that wouldn't be the case, but the world may never know!

Iris sees Iliana and Reixen as her older sisters, in a way, even though the two of them get on her (and each other's) nerves most of the time. She looks up to them despite their somewhat brainless way of handling things, and it gives her role models she hadn't gotten back in her actual time.

Irene gets the special privelege of being her mother figure! Because in all honesty she doesn't recall having a mom, so Irene is her next best bet. She's too much of a steel wall to admit it, but Irene is her favorite of the others.

♡♡♡

Irene:

Irene up until now really only interacted with castle staff, so her closest relations were really only a coworker dynamic in full. She enjoys tea time with Aeleus and Dilan, at least!

Aside from that, she started collecting adoptions in town, starting with Ienzo and Kairi, and moving on to Lea and Isa, Ventus, even, until finally any random stranger with children who frequently visited was not safe! Specifically Iliana-

She ended up collecting two others in the form of Iris and Reixen! Both reluctant at first but gave up and settled into it like a pair of stray cats. Reixen is far more open about it, but Iris is still touchy. Eventually, she will cave and accept her fate...

More came in after the events of KH3. No one was safe from her love and support, especially after the war-

She doesn't have very many parental rivalries, most of the group's parental figures tend to be in united agreement about the children, but she does have some tension towards Ansem the Wise and Even just based on prior experience. Mickey? It's a work in progress. Donald and Goofy? Her besties.

Eventually, she finds a fine companion in Iliana's uncle, Russell, and mayhaps... the two have a silly romance?

After a post-KH3 meetcute when everyone is hunkered down in recovery, they stay at his shop for a few nights, so the two have time to get to know each other. They mostly talk about their experiences with their little arsonist, but it eventually evolves into more personal territory, something they resolve after a few very simple and cute dates.

Finally, a time where Irene can truly get out of uniform...

Also he's one of the stoic types that she just KNOWS she has to break eventually. She will get this man to smile no matter the cost!

Oh yeah it's all coming together~

They've earned it considering all the stress they go through with their collective adopted charges-

♡♡♡

Iliana:

Iliana out of all of them makes the most connections, but only a few of them stuck because she struggles to allow herself to make friends. Allies, sure, but friends? Naaaah~

She started out in her home world with a friend group in the form of Enya, Harlow, Rinée, and Tobias. They were all super close up until their teen years, sticking by each other through thick and thin! And they involved her little brother at times when her parents were out of town.

Her little brother, Mandorian is, like, THE most important person to her. He's just a little guy who loves frogs and hanging out with his big sis when she's not busy training. The two are so often left unattended that it's not hard to believe they spend most of their time together. Wherever she goes, he's close behind!

But whenever they're not together, she's hanging out with Tobias!

She and Tobias were two peas in a pod, completely inseperable most of the time. Tobias was her (secondary) light, and her brother's personal favorite person aside from her, so you can understand how soul destroying it was when they got murked (by her mortal enemy, she doesn't know this until way later though) in order to kickstart and send her on her hero's journey-

She fell out of touch with the others by the time she left due to the loss bringing out the worst in all of them, but Enya seemed to be the only one who continued to cling to what was left of their friendship...

Anyway-

After suffering a horrible death and was subsequently resurrected, she got pulled into Sora's goofy family along with Alto, which filled in a gap left behind by her other (temporary) loss of her younger brother.

It's like she gained two new dads and two lil' bros all in one day, what a world-

Being parentified at a young age meant she knew how to handle keeping Sora and Alto in line, but that doesn't really stop her from doing her own very stupid stuff when they aren't looking. The hypocrite-

She kind of develops a dad dynamic with King Mickey as well, but it's not terribly definitive considering how absent he is...

Over time, the Guardians of Light end up being her found family DLC add-on, it's very wholesome! She's touchy about it, but like Iris eventually she will cave in to the love and affection.

Irene, Reixen, and Iris are like her chill aunt and weird siblings that irritate her, and that's very cool of them. They were there first, so no one can top that. They're like the only family she had most of the time aside from her uncle, so there's a distinct boundary of trust between them that others can't really match.

Along the way, she also has many unrequited crushes on princesses or side characters of sorts, but the only romance in the timeline she persues (even if she's unaware of it half the time, she's very dense) is with Ienzo! Because a certain porcupine is now part of a polycule with a grape and an electric beetle- It would have never worked out, tbh.

She didn't settle, she just had a sudden and very real realization that she fell for probably THE dorkiest person possible. So many characters to pick, so many pretty princesses, handsome princes, teammates with more screentime, and it had to be a basement dwelling rat (affectionate)...

Considering her prior heartbreak at the loss of her childhood bestie, it does take a while for her to come to terms with the fact that it's okay to move on. She holds on to so much that you may need to pry it from her very warm, still alive hands-

Luckily, the two did know each other well enough since they interacted a bunch when they were kids, she did visit Radiant Garden quite a bit after all, it only made sense they may have some chemistry later down the line. Her grandma would joke about it with Ansem the Wise, but little did she know that it would become very real and very cute actually-

I dunno what it is with her and nerds, but if you can talk her ear off while all the info leaks out of her hearing holes, you have most certainly won her heart. Ienzo also partially fits the bill for her morosexual side, depending on the situation that isn't science related. Like cooking or something. Equal parts smart and dumb, just the way she enjoys them-

They're both t4t brainless nerds and in love, love wins etc etc.

♡♡♡

And there you have it! It's not much but it's honest work-

They all deserve the love and respect they get along their journies, and I'm happy to say that they do find it all eventually!

Enough on that though, we're indulging in angst this next day. See y'all on Day 4!! >:3c

[7grandmel]

Todays Raft: 01:28 PM - 01/04/2024

The Legend of VGV: Mickey's oh fuck this bullshit raft ride is gay and siivagunner is for fucking losers

Season 7 Ridden on: The Year of Grand Dad Sound Selection [Side A]

Raft by literallyn01imp0rtant (@literallyn01imp0rtant)

Aside from the absolutely deranged title (which I assume is a reference?) I don't have much to say on this one, I'm not a HotDiggetyDemon enjoyer, but its a fun ditty :]

[underworldboss]

I swear Mickey’s “hot dog” song is a curse. I can’t get that crap out of my head… too catchy for me

"Oy, don't get me started on the big cheese and his overly chipper ditties. They're torture! They're like something I would come up with!"

[jules-has-notes]

Holiday Road (live) — VoicePlay music video

Continuing their string of live performances as teasers for their studio albums, VoicePlay took a moment of downtime at a concert to record this little ditty. Holiday Road is the second track on their 2012 holiday album, "Peppermint Winter", and was included in a digital sampler that they gave away for the month of December.

Details:

title: Holiday Road

original songs / performers: "Holiday Road" by Lindsey Buckingham; "Sleigh Ride" by The Andrews Sisters

written by: "Holiday Road" written by Lindsey Buckingham for National Lampoon's Vacation (1983); "Sleigh Ride" composed by Leroy Anderson (1948) with lyrics added by Mitchell Parish (1950)

arranged by: VoicePlay

release date: 12 December 2012

My favorite bits:

all the jazzy syncopation they worked into the arrangement

parts of the harmony lines emulating the backing guitar line from the original

the addition of a bit of "Sleigh Ride" in the middle to break up what could otherwise be a slightly repetitive song

Eli's slick riff down on ♫ "West Coast kiiiiick" ♫

seeing the various ways the guys keep the beat for themselves — snapping fingers, tapping toes, bopping along, playing air guitar

Trivia:

This song is often early in the setlist for VoicePlay's holiday concerts, including their three years (2015-17) of seasonal residency at Disney World for Mickey's Very Merry Christmas Party.

The video they teased during the outro was for "Bollywood Jingle Bells". It didn't actually go live until a week later, and has since been made private because… yeah, it didn't age well.

[pargolettasworld]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ZV7cS9BHHs

L’dor vador.  From generation to generation.  One of the venerable genres of American Jewish music is the popular song parody -- take that great song and make it Jewish!  You had Mickey “Borscht Riders In The Sky” Katz, he of the Yinglish song genre.  You had Allan “Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah” Sherman, whom we heard yesterday, bringing American Jews into the upwardly mobile mainstream.*  Now, you have Country Yossi.  Composer Yossi Toiv works very much in the vein of Katz and Sherman, though he is much more performatively Orthodox than either of them.

He was born in 1949 in Brooklyn, which goes toward explaining some of the great Golden Oldies that he likes to send up.  In this case, he answers the question that I’m completely sure was at the absolute forefront of everyone’s mind.  What would Bobby Pickett’s 1962 novelty hit “Monster Mash” sound like if it were Jewish?  It turns out that it’s a fun little ditty, though there’s a spark in both Katz and Sherman’s work that I don’t quite hear in Yossi’s.  Still, it’s amusing, and there are some lovely creative moments in it.

*I’m not including the Barry Sisters here, since they didn’t really do parodies; they often did popular songs just straight-up translated into Yiddish.

[ukdamo]

You're the Top - written by Cole Porter, belted by Ethel Merman

At words poetic, I'm so pathetic That I always have found it best Instead of getting 'em off my chest, To let 'em rest—unexpressed. I hate parading my serenading, As I'll probably miss a bar, But if this ditty is not so pretty, At least it'll tell you how great you are.

You're the top! You're the Coliseum. You're the top! You're the Louvre Museum. You're the melody from a symphony by Strauss. You're a Bendel bonnet, A Shakespeare sonnet, You're Mickey Mouse!

You're the Nile! You're the Tow'r of Pisa. You're the smile on the Mona Lisa. I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop! But if baby I'm the bottom, you're the top! You're the top! You're Mahatma Gandhi. You're the top! You're Napoleon brandy. You're the purple light of a summer night in Spain. You're the National Gallery; you're Garbo's salary, You're cellophane!

You're sublime; you're a turkey dinner. You're the time of the Derby Winner. I'm a toy balloon that's fated soon to pop; But if baby I'm the bottom, you're the top!

You're the top! You're an Arrow collar. You're the top! You're a Coolidge dollar. You're the nimble tread of the feet of Fred Astaire. You're an O'Neill drama; you're Whistler's mama; you're Camembert.

You're a rose; You're Inferno's Dante. You're the nose on the great Durante. I'm just in the way. As the French would say, "de trop." But if, baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top!

You're the top! You're a Waldorf salad. You're the top! You're a Berlin ballad. You're the baby grand of a lady and a gent You're an old Dutch master, You're Mrs. Astor, You're Pepsodent!

You're romance, You're the steppes of Russia, You're the pants On a Roxy usher. I'm a lazy lout that's just about to stop

But if, baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top!

[shallowstories]

If this ditty is not so pretty, at least it'll tell you how great you are...

At words poetic, I'm so pathetic That I always have found it best Instead of getting 'em off my chest To let 'em rest unexpressed I hate parading my serenading As I'll probably miss a bar But if this ditty is not so pretty At least it'll tell you How great you are

You're the top! You're the Coliseum You're the top! You're the Louver Museum You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss You're a Bendel bonnet A Shakespeare's sonnet You're Mickey Mouse You're the Nile You're the Tower of Pisa You're the smile on the Mona Lisa I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop But if, baby, I'm the bottom, you're the top

You're the top You're Mahatma Gandhi You're the top You're Napoleon Brandy You're the purple light Of a summer night in Spain You're the National Gallery You're Garbo's salary You're cellophane

You're sublime You're a turkey dinner You're the time of a Derby winner I'm a toy balloon that's fated soon to pop But if, baby, I'm the bottom You're the top

You're the top You're an Arrow collar You're the top You're a Coolidge dollar You're the nimble tread Of the feet of Fred Astaire You're an O'Neill drama You're Whistler's mama You're camembert

You're a rose You're Inferno's Dante You're the nose On the great Durante I'm just in the way As the French would say, "de trop" But if, baby, I'm the bottom You're the top

You're the top You're a Waldorf salad You're the top You're a Berlin ballad You're the baby grand of a lady and a gent You're an Old Dutch master You're Mrs. Aster You're Pepsodent

You're romance You're the steppes of Russia You're the pants on a Roxy usher I'm a lazy lout, who's just about to stop But if, baby, I'm the bottom You're the top

[gallawitchxx]

gallavich kiss #43 please hehe

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send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚

- - - - -

#43: ...out of greed

Holy fuck.

Mickey Milkovich is in your bed.

If it hadn’t happened to you—if you couldn’t still taste the tang of his spunk in the back of your throat—you might not believe that it happened at all. Most have a better shot at winning the lottery than they do at seeing the business end of the permanently inked vines and chains that intertwine before disappearing beneath the cuff of Mickey’s rolled-up sleeves. In the three years you’ve been harboring a dangerous crush on your best friend and roommate’s brother, you’ve never known anyone who’s made the acquaintance of the huge blue lilies that bloom across his chest, swirling around soft pink nipples.

Until now.

Until you.

Holy fuck!

Mickey Milkovich is in your bed!

The previous night had seemed like any other Friday night: Mandy had insisted on having people over, and you were too impressed by her continual efforts to make friends to put up much of a fuss. Besides, you knew the chances were good that her foul-mouthed doppelgänger would show up before the night was over, a cigarette dangling from his sinful lips.

And you were right—ten minutes after midnight, your Southside Cinderella sauntered through the door and headed straight towards you, plopping his perfect ass down next to you on your ratty couch.

Long night? you’d asked, offering him a sip of your beer.

Your reward was a cock of his expressive brows and the pleasure of watching him swallow. ‘M just gettin’ started, Red.

You didn't expect the nickname, so it hit you square in the gut, which is how you found yourself in the alleyway behind your apartment building, smoking a spliff as Mickey’s greedy gaze roamed your recovering body.

Thanks to school and meds and a pair of lagoon-blue eyes, it’d been a minute since you’d gotten any real action. But historically, you'd been good at picking up what’s put down, and Mickey seemed to be laying his cards on your table, one lick of his slightly chapped lips at a time.

You could have blamed the weed seeping into your system, or maybe it was the primal pulse of the full moon overhead that made your blood sing and your hands itch... Either way, your belly burned too bright to bear, and before you could stop yourself, you shoved a shocked—but smiling—Mickey up against the wall.

Sorry, Mandy, you thought as you looped your fingers underneath her brother's gold chain necklace and pulled his hips flush against yours. The need was just too great, and your willpower was far too compromised to hold back any longer.

Your lips against his could have destroyed whole universes.

Funny thing was, you wouldn’t have cared one bit.

[thevaudevilledemon]

The Horrible Histories Monarch Song, but with Disney Villains. Well, the first part anyway.

My name is Bootleg Pete, I'm Disney villain one I chased poor Alice as a bear those good old days were fun Then as a cat I bothered Mickey till ol Goofy lived next door I could talk about myself all day long but villains there are more To help remember all them now here's a little song A stolen rhyme and ditty for you all to sing along OH! Pete! Well... that's short, there were more villains, who's next?

Big Bad Wolf blew down houses Pigs overtaken by some mouses And then in features It's the Queen Snow White was a movie to be seen Then Stromboli, and some more And then there's Chernabog of course The Ringmaster, okay Circuses are awful anyway Then there's man, no use lying He made lots of kids leave crying

Pete, the Wolf, the Queen, Stromboli Cherna, Ringboss, Man, OY! Time to carry on this song and so our evil plans!

[wu-kongs]

Kinder thing wukong could do to that macaque is just kill him again. Even if macaque wasn't unreemabled, Macaque is too broken to ever be happy again. Best thing is for him to have meng po soup in diyu and reincarnate in a fresh start. Though who knows what killing macaque twice would do to wukong, especially when even in his dying breath macaque believed everything they ever had was a lie

drops head into hands

hey quick question am i a joke to you

...

warning: graphic character death, but! hopeful ending

wukong flinches as a thick glob of blood and spit splatters onto his cheek.

"go ahead, great sage," sneers macaque pinned under him. "you've done it before, shouldn't this be easy for you?"

wukong stares at him, eyes frantically, helplessly roaming every angle of his face smudged with bruises, cuts, and blood. he himself looks less worn for wear, but only marginally. it's... been a long day. a long last few months if he's honest. he struggles to find his voice, stuck so thickly in his throat that it threatens to choke him.

"macaque... enough. i—i don't want to do this."

amused disbelief warps macaque's features almost painfully. "oh, the grand king doesn't want to dirty his hands, is that it? i didn't know you'd become such a snob, mei—hou—wang."

that ancient title in that equally ancient tongue, long-dead to all but them, their memories, and their dreams, not unlike any hope that may have once existed between them, pierces wukong through the chest. he wants to get up. he wants to get off macaque and disappear. or pick him up and hold him close. he wants to fix this. he wants to leave this all behind. he wants to fight. he wants to disappear. he wants to show macaque it isn't over yet. he wants to finish this.

"might as well now, wukong!" macaque loudly taunts, gait edged with mania. "who knows what i'll do if you let me free now..."

it's not a guess. the proof endures all around them. while they're cradled in a crater, twin to another from another life in another millennium, destruction looms over them. carnage and chaos have reigned over the city for the last two days, drawing lethal havoc and a body count wukong dreads to think about. it's only now, where he has macaque pinned down by a knees-spread straddle, that it's quieted down.

this has to end; the sickening truth is that macaque is right—if wukong even thinks of freeing him now, more will suffer. he's explored every option he can think of to conquer this madness, to dissuade macaque and make him see reason, but to no avail—and he has no one to blame but himself. he knows exactly where and when this started. he knows exactly who is responsible for this. and he knows... exactly how this will end.

"there it is," macaque purrs at the vague hint of soul-crushed resignation in wukong's eyes. it vibrates up wukong's spine to diffuse through his blood. all of his fur rises on end. "that look in your eyes, wukong. you know what to do."

"is this what you want?" wukong hysterically grits before he can stop himself. "you want me to—to—!"

macaque tilts his head, that shattered lunacy continuing to annihilate any other emotion that might have tried to creep in. "to kill me again? absolutely!" wukong flinches bodily at how easily he says it. "what, like it's hard? you know how to do it best! don't act like that, wukong, C'MON!"

the world rings in wukong's ears. his mind can't process what macaque is saying to him. that macaque is demanding HE—

"there is nothing for me here." twisted amusement exits macaque's voice, replaced by anger, wrath, resentment. "free me, and i will make sure this whole place burns with me. you can finish it," he growls, "you can finish me here and now, and maybe it can be fixed."

"but you—"

"this is it, wukong! i can never have what i want, you showed me that! you promised me i would never be happy, and guess WHAT!" he laughs, hysterical. "you were RIGHT! you were right, and now it's time to finish it."

"STOP SAYING THAT!" wukong bites desperately, fist flying into the upturned rock next to macaque's head. "stop—"

he's cut off when a hand clutches his wrist. macaque has wrenched one arm free of wukong's knee. his claws dig painfully into the skin there, pressing threateningly against wukong's veins, but wukong doesn't pull away. he stares, unmoving, as macaque unflinchingly guides his hand from the ground to his throat.

panicked, wukong tries to jerk away, but he can't seem to muster the strength. he should be able to. he knows he should be able to. he's always been stronger than macaque; something like this shouldn't be difficult. right now though, it isn't about physical strength—it's the inevitable. ever since he opened his mouth and sang that horrible, horrible song of the end, it's always been about the inevitable.

"you know what you have to do," macaque murmurs, suddenly frighteningly calm and sober. all trace of derangement has faded from his eyes. "you know this is what you need to do."

"no..."

wukong's eyes sting, but he doesn't resist as macaque draws his other hand up to his throat. the stinging surges into potent burning as macaque's hands meld his fingers to the skin there, but he refuses to close his eyes, refuses to dishonor what's taking place by denying witness of it.

macaque's skin is hot under his palms. his blood pumps heavy and and slow in his grasp, and that makes it worse. macaque is calm. even his heartbeat is slow... steady.

"now go ahead," macaque encourages. his voice is a terrible, terrible coalescence acceptance, resignation, and tenderness. it softens. "show me you were telling the truth. you've lied to me all our lives... the least you can do in the end is show me the truth."

it wasn't the truth. wukong's hold tightens ever so slightly. he feels macaque breathe deeply under it.

"show me... that i never meant anything to you."

he can't hold it back anymore—tears well and spill off wukong's lashes and cascade down his cheeks. his vision blurs but he doesn't move to wipe it clear; if he stops, he won't return to here, to now, to what is necessary and inescapable.

minutes slog by into torturous eternity. the deep, steady breaths thin, from blows to wheezes, from wheezes to puffs. wukong's fingers tighten infinitesimally every passing moment until before he knows it, the blood flow is cutting away underneath his touch. fat tears plip-plop-plop from his cheeks onto macaque's, where the shades are running colder and colder.

wukong's throat thickens like it's his own under someone else's clutches, like his body is punishing him by mirroring the other under it, ensuring he's entirely lucid of what's happening. he wishes he were beside himself, fully dissociating until perhaps he could say it isn't him, he isn't the one wringing the life out of his once-best friend, once-lover, once-soulmate.

he isn't though. he's fully aware of himself, of macaque, of—of macaque's lips moving to form words that make wukong's eyes widen.

macaque's body jerks under him, and for a brief, moment swelling with pure hope, wukong thinks he'll finally fight back, but no. he jerks that once, and then... there is breath no more.

it all stills. the ringing becomes violent.

painfully, all at once, wukong begins to exist in the moment, and it cracks him open. he doesn't let go. his grip tightens instead, and he chokes on a violent sob, doubling over until his forehead bangs against macaque's, whose eyes are still open, staring ever-soft at... nothing. they see nothing. he can see nothing.

all-consuming silence is cut only by wukong's wailing that echoes off dilapidated buildings and rolls over scads of bodies thrown over devastated ground. the bawls scream out of his throat until it is raw and hoarse, and even then, his weeps continue without sound.

he isn't sure when he managesit, but he rolls off macaque, fingers stiff and sore from clenching so tightly around the throat of his beloved, and flops onto the ground next to his body. the tears change trajectory when he turns his head to look at macaque's face, the blood flow flooding out and rapidly leaving him paler and paler. he reaches out a shaky hand but hesitates. how could he ever touch him again after that? how could he ever dare? but his hand floats the rest of the way and pulls macaque's chin towards him anyway, and then he closes both of his eyes, unable to bear their lifelessness piercing him.

he stares until his teeth bare and grit with more wild tears. it has come to this, and he never could've done anything to stop it. his thumb strokes over macaque's cooling cheek. words suddenly echo through his mind—what macaque said in the end. his last words.

"hope... in the next life... you love me back, peaches."

wukong's eyes screw shut.

macaque, in diyu, at the end of his punishment of torture in atonement, will cross the naihe bridge and drink from old lady meng... he will know nothing of this after that. that was how it should've been—the first time. that is how it will be now. and macaque will be thrust back into the circle of reincarnation without a single memory of who he was, what has happened, and... wukong. they will never see each other again.

"hope... in the next life... you love me back, peaches."

wukong opens his eyes. his lids are heavy and his skin is stiff with drying tears.

in the next life. in the life after that. all the ones before. all the ones after. he always has. he always will.

he reaches down to twine his fingers with macaque's rigid ones. before much longer, they'll be easy to snap off. no matter. wukong won't be around for that. he wrestles his heavy head to look skyward where it is bright and clear, as if to mock the scene it hails over. he squints slightly, but then the sunlight seems to soften in his eyes as if taking pity upon him.

"buddha, i know you can hear me... i'm calling in a favor. you owe me."

wukong has lived too long anyway. this world doesn't need him. and he can't fathom a second existence without his other half in any case. maybe a fresh start is just what he needs.

[ohc-and-the-music-tapes-archive]

Double review of “Chocolate and Cheese” by Ween and “Smoke Machine” by  Chocolate USA in The Tampa Tribune, October 14, 1994.

transcription:

WEEN, Chocolate and Cheese (Elektra) — ***1/2; CHOCOLATE U.S.A., Smoke Machine (Bar/None) — **1/2 Clever co-worker Curtis calls Ween and Chocolate U.S.A. two of the most annoying bands in the world. I agree, and we mean that in the best sense of the word.

Dean and Gene Ween, the “Push 'th Little Daisies” duo from Pennsylvania, and Chocolate U.S.A., the former Tampa band headed by precocious pop experimentalist Julian Koster, share a self-consciously dweeby approach, a love of camp, satire and nonsense, and eclectic tastes.

Ween, the more polished of the two groups, outdoes itself this time, with dead-on takes on the Doors fronted by Tom Jones (“Take Me Away"), sweet soul music ("Freedom of '76"), Prince-style R&B (‘Roses Are Free"), giddy folk-pop ("Baby Bitch"), campfire strumming ("Drifter in the Dark"), a spaghetti western ditty ("Buenas Tardes Amigo”), the Byrds ("What Deaner Was Talkin’ About") and the Beatles (the unprintable final tune).

Weeners Mickey Melchiondo and Aaron Freeman, for good measure, also toss in funny-poignant disease song “Spinal Meningitis (Got Me Down)’; the grinding industrial funk of “I Can't Put My Finger on It"; “A Tear for Eddie,” an impressive guitar-dominated instrumental rock ballad; and the social consciousness of “The Hiv Song,” underscored by dafty circus music.

“Chocolate and Cheese” makes us smile, both for the mercurial brilliance of the clown duo and the sheer good-natured silliness of it all.

Koster and Co, are into more routine alternative” rock, combining heavy, churning guitars and stop-start rhythms with the leader's sing-songy vocals, sampled noises and dialogue, violins and banjos.

Overall, it's messier and less accomplished than 1992's “All Jets Are Gonna Fall Today.” — Philip Booth

[britishchick09]

i just saw the bob’s burgers movie alriiiiight! :D

(well ok not just but ya know ;) )

it was a blast to watch! there were so many people in the theater and they were all laughing! it was like we were watching an ep of the show together! :D

spoilery thoughts about it below ;)

the trailer reminded me of the simpsons movie (which i saw in theaters back in ‘07) and while that one had big af stakes, this movie had big stakes. i liked it a lot more!

the lighting and some shots in the movie were so well done and reminded me of sailor moon eternal! :D

there were some young girls who giggled throughout the movie and it was very cute! i was 8 (going on 9 later in the year) when bob’s burgers came out so i wonder if they were too...

the little flashback to bob and linda seeing their empty restaurant was so sweet! :’)

i loved seeing so many characters! :D

i liked how gene explained the itty bitty ditty committee to rudy and darrell! it was nice for people who haven’t seen the show

also there were so many ep callbacks! a couple off the top of my head is tina’s heat rash, which is the itchy crotch from the pilot! and teddy puts ‘bob burger’ on the cart which is what he thinks bob’s name is ;)

oh yeah there was another callback when bob was lying on the floor! it was just like tina in that one season 1 ep! :D

he groans just like her! :)

everyone in the audience laughed at linda kicking bob in the nuts! :D

and the girls giggled a lot at bob’s little grill dance!

bob yelling while mort and teddy are in the restaurant brought me back to the early eps! :)

louise’s hat story is sweet :) (even if it’s a tad different than she remembered wink wink...)

i was hoping the mechanical shark would be in the sinkhole BUT THAT SKELETON THO OMG :o

louise in the hole reminded me of the taffy factory ep and i half expected taff to appear lol ;D

it was neat to see jerico again! :D

oooh i just remembered another reference! linda wishes gene luck on his math test and says ‘four!’ which is like in the ep with gene, alex and courtney playing their basement game when she randomly shouted out numbers and bob was like ‘saying random numbers isn’t math’

mickey sounded a tad off and turns out it was a different actor but it’s cool! at least it wasn’t like in his most recent ep appearance...

some of the cronies’ dances were funny :D

when bosco was at the biker bar i was like ‘come on show us the one eyed snakes!’ AND BOOM there was critter! ;D

bosco’s car was obvious cgi but that was cool cgi! :D

the cuff link looked cute! :)

i liked how ron wears chapstick just like his buddy hugo :)

tina trying to roll under the bed tho! :D

the last character i expected to see was felix’s girlfriend! :o

when the kids were going through the wharf i hoped bob and linda wouldn’t catch them! :o

erik would’ve absolutely loved mr. fischoeder’s organ! :D

the trap doors have erik vibes too! :D

grover wanting to build a mega park reminded me of pv mall turning into pv :/

it also reminded me of felix’s evil plan in the wharf 2 parter ep!

grover’s spider walk in the underground tho! :o

i thought mr. goiter would be among the merry go round horses there but he wasn’t :/ (or maybe he was and i didn’t spot him?)

some parts in the chase scene reminded me of tangled the series and what do you know mercury filmworks helped animate it! :D

some young girls ran up to the standee right after i took the pic from my last post and asked ‘where’s nat?’ unfortunately...

i was a bit bummed that nat wasn’t in it (so were the standee giggle girls i bet) but it’s ok because there were so many characters! i almost thought she’d drive by in her limo to continue the chase scene

grover BURYING THE BELCHERS ALIVE was so scary!!! :o

i loved seeing bob’s mom!!! the hat connection with louise is so sweet :’)

little bob looks like gene! or should i say travel-sized bob ;)

linda losing her spirit and bob being the one to bring hope was sweet too! :)

i don’t remember the joke exactly but linda said it in the car and everyone in the audience laughed! :D

the belchers couldn’t understand teddy through the car window but i could a bit ;)

i love how brave louise was! :D

zeke doing parkour tho! ;D

i thought it was ok that louise’s head wasn’t shown! some things can stay a secret ;)

my parents and i are usually the only ones in the theater when the end credits scene plays but there were a handful of people who stuck around! :D

overall this was an amazing movie and i’m so glad i was able to enjoy it with so many fans of the belchers! :D