#vincent van wham

[albobeati7]

Rock on lil biker boy

Trying something new for a response on my askblog! Won’t do all of them like this, but I wanna try something outta my comfort zone!

I’m HOPING i can finish this ask for tomorrow but HAVE A WIP BABY RN!

[readergf]

𝒎𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔

𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬: joseph quinn, maya hawke, jason sudeikis, alexa chung, zendaya, tom holland, harry styles, sam kiszka, josh kiszka, jake kiszka, daniel wagner, andy samberg, thomas gibson, matthew gray gubler, alex turner

𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬: maya hawke, elton john, taylor swift, ozzy osbourne, selena gomez, george michael, alanis morrisette, fiona apple, harry styles, david bowie, phoebe bridgers

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬: queen, greta van fleet, joy division, cage the elephant, fleetwood mac, the strokes, kiss, metallica, guns ‘n’ roses, system of a down, rage against the machine, black sabbath, wham!, stray cats, oasis, rooney, men i trust, the cure, depeche mode, coldplay, boygenius, the vamp, arctic monkeys, wolf alice

𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬: stranger things, brooklyn nine nine, doctor who, criminal minds, schitt’s creek, the good place

𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬: bob’s burgers, new girl, the office, parks & rec, bluey, gravity falls, spongebob, south park, family guy

𝐦𝐜𝐮: actors & characters

𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐱𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝟒: loving vincent, barbie as the princess and the pauper, ferris bueller’s day off, it (1990)

𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐬 & 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: empire records, jackass, the princess diaries, twilight, pride & prejudice, disney movies, pixar movies, shrek, how to train your dragon, set it up, high school musical, enchanted, the dark knight, die hard, a knight’s tale, ella enchanted, the matrix, palm springs

[smashingveteransandnewcomers]

Almost instantly, Kirby sucked up the hammer and appeared to swallow it before he began to glow and change,

Suddenly, Kirby now had a smaller hammer of his own and a white/blue rope headband around his head!

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF VINCENT VAN GOGH IS GOING ON HERE?!" Ado screamed!

"H-HOW'D YOU DO THAT?! G-GIVE ME BACK MY HAMMER!!!"

Kirby didn't listen and began his counter attack, striking Dedede over and over before he left the King stunned!

He then brought his hammer back, as if to charge an attack, the hammer even combusting a bit to show this!

"H-Hey, W-Wait a Minuet now!!!!" Dedede pleaded before

*WHAM!* The Dreamland King was struck so hard he was flung into the air and shot out of the roof of his castle!

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!!!!!!" The king's cries were heard as he flew out of sight!

An Arrival on Popstar! Kirby's first Adventures in Dreamland!

@astral-multiverse

Long before Kirby was the tough Puff we knew him as, Dreamland and planet popstar was protected by two young heroes. a Warrior from the stars with skills of a Sword Master, and their close friend and Ally, a young, but strong Dedede before he took the throne.

Together, they managed to banish the Nightmare Wizard with the aid of the Star Rod from the mystical Fountain of Dreams and were hailed as heroes. But Dedede let the fame go to his head with each new battle that came afterwards, eventually crowning himself as King over Dreamland.

The Sword Wielding Star Warrior had also vanished, fading into legend...

Now, in the current time of this tale, King Dedede, as vile as his behavior was, did protect the land he ruled over, allow for peace to continue thriving over the Green Greens of Dreamland and it's here, we find two semi familiar faces...

"Alright....little bit of green here...some brown for the trees...." Hummed the voice of the teenage artist Ado, the soon to be world famous painter and older sister to the still very young Adeleine

"Hm...Maybe a little bit of red for the apple...and some purple for Marx....and-

Wait, Ma-MARX?! WHERE DID YOU POP UP FROM?!"

[simp-sips]

The characters who save me from reality. They have my love forever and always. Thank you to the muns for giving me such a wonderful life here on Tumblr.

@the-officer-and-the-reporter I forget to mention Mr. Manning. Of course the best is saved for last. 🖤

[music4lonelysouls]

“The Man Song”. 

Seriously! Even if you don’t like the cartoon they set the song to, just give the song a listen; it’s hilarious! 

“He’s the man” dying

[ask-the-biker-mice-crew]

AND WE ARE OPEN FOR BUSINESS!

Before sending Vinnie, Charley, Throttle, and Modo your questions, do check out the blog guidelines HERE. Once you’ve done that, feel free to ASK AWAY!

This polycule is eager to see what you have in store for them, and so am I!

[otrtbs]

15 Questions Tag!

Thank you to @euphorial-docx for the tag! <33

Nickname: Nat :))

Height: 5’7

The last thing I googled: 'anne brontë novels' and 'we at the hotel, motel, Holiday Inn' BECAUSE I COULDN'T REMEMBER THAT THE SONG WAS HOTEL ROOM SERVICE BY PITBULL AH

# of followers: a little over 2.2k on this little site (what's up yall? hope you're doing well <3 )

Amount of sleep: I got eight hours last night everyone be proud 😌 but tbh my sleep schedule is so inconsistent it's anywhere between 5-10 hours asjkhgdkj

Dream Job: I don't dream of labor xoxo (but honestly I want to go into to Art Law and represent artists when they sign their works to galleries and museums and dealers!!)

Wearing: an oversized red knit sweater and cotton grey shorts w grey socks (im still in my pajamas atm)

Book/movie that summarizes you: Little Women by Louisa May Alcott and Ladybird (2017) dir. Greta Gerwig

Favourite song currently: Last Christmas by Wham! because it's Christmas time and that's the best song ever. But also, Take You Back (The Iron Hoof Cattle Call) by Orville Peck has been playing on repeat 24/7 these days.

Aesthetic: 2023 is the year of burgundy! you heard it here first so rn i'm pregaming the new year w burgundy lipstick, nail polish, wine, yk the vibes. outfit-wise though? basic neutrals winter !! lots of white, black, brown, and beige colors !!

Favourite authors: Donna Tartt! Iconic writer that she is. Joan Didion and Kafka.

Random facts: Jo van Gogh-Bonger was the wife of Theo van Gogh (Vincent van Gogh's brother) and she is responsible for founding the van Gogh museum. She is also the one who fought to publicize Vincent van Gogh's work in the years after his death (saved and published his letters, took his art to dealers and salons and gallery shows) and it is thanks to her that we are able to know anything about Vincent and appreciate his art today!! (she's a really cool woman to research if you ever have time!!)

Anyone who wants to participate in this is welcome to do so!! I tagged you! <33

[manambart]

16 APR 2021 - Vincent “Vinnie” Van Wham 

from Biker Mice from Mars

Mice from BMFM may be the only anthropomorphic animals I draw. Style inspired by wonderful Reykat (Olya Bossak).

[sarahhtoninn]

[albobeati7]

What's this?

A wild Vinnie appears!

For a tiktok im making 😏😏😏

I love drawing him looking like he's one step away from going ape shite

Because he is

[quickeningheart]

Three

     Charley suddenly found herself grappling with a hundred and twenty pounds of dead weight. "Fantastic," she grunted, hefting Alley's slumped form in her arms. "Way to make a first impression, you lunkheads. One of you care to help me out here?"

     The mice snapped out of their stupor and Vinnie hurried forward, scooping up the unconscious woman and carefully depositing her onto the worn couch that had been made up as a bed. "What can I say?" he preened. "No woman can resist this studly bod! They're just overcome by my sheer awesomeness."

     "Yeah, keep telling yourself that, pal. Maybe someday it'll come true."

     Vinnie pouted and whipped his tail at his snickering bros. "So what'll we do with Sleeping Beauty here?"

     "Will she be all right?" Modo hovered over the couch, looking worried. "I didn't mean to scare the little lady."

     "It's okay, big guy." Charley patted his arm. "Give her a few minutes. She'll come around."

     "Maybe we should clear out before that happens."

     "She's gotta get used to you at some point. Better now than never. But … maybe give her some breathing space, huh?" Charley eyed the three hovering males with amusement as they hastily backed away from the couch. And then she bit back a curse when the bell went off in the garage. She checked the wall clock and sighed. "Damn. Opening time already?" She looked torn. "I hate to leave Alley alone, after what happened…"

     "Want us to hang around until she wakes up?"

     "I dunno if that's such a good idea. All three of you might be too much for her."

     "So, one of us stays and the others come back later. Someone needs to explain things to her."

     "I'll do it!" Vinnie volunteered eagerly.

     "We need to reassure her. I don't wanna come back and find her curled up in a whimpering little ball in the back of a closet," Charley snorted.

     "Hey!" he protested over more snickers.

     "I'd do it," Modo said slowly, "but I guess I sorta blew it a bit. I'd probably just scare her again." His ears drooped and he looked so dejected that Charley gave him a hug.

     "She'll get over it. It's half my fault, anyway. I should've told her a little sooner, I guess." She turned to Throttle. "Aside from Modo, you're the calmest and most diplomatic. You're probably the best choice in the matter."

     "Swell," Throttle sighed, settling back into an armchair to wait. Well, it beat lugging furniture up a flight of stairs, at least.

     ~*~*~*~*~

     He was bored.

     Nope. Scratch that. He was really bored. He was starting to regret ever agreeing to this whole babysitting gig, especially since there were so many more interesting things he could've been doing. Like flossing his teeth, or picking the lint out from under his toenails. He heaved a heavy sigh and switched positions, folding one leg across his knee and resting his chin on his fist. The fingers of his other hand drummed an impatient rhythm against the armrest of the chair he'd been sitting in for way too long.

     Twenty minutes had already passed, and Alley was still out for the count. He shot her an irritated glance, wondering—not for the first time—how two such completely different people could come from the same family. Sure, Charley had been afraid of them, too, but she hadn't fainted like some delicate little snowflake. She'd threatened to knock his head off when he got too close! Now that was someone he could admire.

     He sighed again, putting some extra oomph into it, in the hopes of drawing the little princess out of her slumber. No such luck. He pouted, then decided that, since he was sitting there, he might as well take a closer look. So, he slid off the chair and knee-walked over to the couch, where he proceeded to give his charge a critical once-over.

     Sure. Watching a lady sleep might be considered sort of stalkerish and creepy by some people, but some people weren't there, and Alley was far more interesting to look at than the wall. He had to admit; she was kind of pretty, for a wimp. Charley hadn't been kidding about her unique tastes, though. She looked like a dead rainbow. Bright colors streaked through her pale knot of hair. Each of her fingernails was painted with a different shade of glittery polish, and a lacy purple butterfly was tattooed on her right hand between her thumb and forefinger. The fingers of her left were decorated with silver rings. So were her ears—two piercings on the left, one on the right—and crystal stars and a moon dangled from the tiny hoops.

     Her face was made up, too. Smokey eyelids, thickened lashes, and a shiny, pink gloss slicked across her mouth. Throttle found the whole concept of makeup strange. Charley almost never wore it, and of course no female mouse could wear it because of the mess it would make of their fur. It clearly wasn't practical, but the effect was rather alluring. Especially the way those full, pink lips glistened, drawing his attention almost against his will.

     It was probably a good thing that Alley chose that moment to finally rejoin the land of the living.

     Throttle bit back a yelp and all but scrambled back into his chair, sitting with hands folded primly in his lap, the very picture of innocence as the girl slowly stirred and opened her eyes. She blinked at the ceiling for a moment, then scowled and muttered to herself, "Weird dream. That's what I get for mixing expired cream into my coffee."

     Throttle chuckled despite himself, and the sudden noise made Alley yip and sit up … a little too quickly, apparently. She gripped the back of the couch for a moment, before cautiously taking a quick glance around. And Throttle suddenly found himself looking into the biggest blue eyes he'd ever seen. They reminded him of the blue crystal formations found in the deepest caverns of his home planet, clear and bright and piercing.

     Unfortunately, so was her voice. Which she demonstrated by opening her pretty pink lips and letting loose a shriek that made his teeth vibrate in the back of his skull. He cringed into his seat, clapped his hands to his ringing ears, and wondered how such a big noise could come out of such a small woman.

     "Lower the volume, lady! I'm not deaf," he grumbled. Yet.

     She responded by attempting to burrow into the back of the couch in a bid to get as far away from him as possible. Throttle was insulted. Geez, you'd think he had fleas or something, the way she was acting! But, as the last thing he wanted to do was make her pass out again, he gathered all the patience he could muster and held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Easy there, Sweetheart," he crooned in his softest voice. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just here to make sure you're okay."

     Alley glanced wildly around the empty apartment. "Charley!" she bellowed.

     Throttle winced. So much for not going deaf. "She's in the garage. A customer came in or she wouldn't have left you alone. She'll be back in a bit," he explained, still keeping his voice as low and soothing as possible. He didn't get it; he'd been told on more than one occasion that his voice could make any female (and possibly some males) swoon right into his arms. Hell, he'd used it on Carbine on more than one occasion in the past, with spectacular results. But for some reason, it just didn't seem to be working right on Alley.

     Talk about a blow to the ego.

     Alley had given up on yelling and was now curled up in the corner of the couch, using the afghan like a flimsy shield. "Wh-what are you?" Her voice quavered, and she looked ready to burst into tears.

     He sighed. Swell. The last thing he needed was a crying, hysterical woman on his hands. The non-crying version was irritating enough. "My name is Throttle Thorneboy. Just so you know, I'm a mouse, not a rat. I come from the planet Mars." He gestured to the red antenna atop his head.

     Alley's eyes slowly followed the gesture, studying the appendages, before lowering to look the rest of him over. "A … Martian mouse."

     "Yep."

     She chewed on her lip for a moment, glanced around before asking, "Weren't there … three of you?"

     Oh, yeah. He'd almost forgotten about them. "Ah, yeah. My bros, Modo Maverick and Vincent Van Wham. We, uh, decided it was probably better to wait a bit before proper introduction. Until, you know, things got explained a bit more. They'll be back later."

     Alley didn't look particularly happy to hear it. "Why are you in Chicago? And how did you meet my cousin?"

     "That's kind of a long story," he sighed.

     She frowned. "You don't want to tell me?"

     "It's more like … it'd probably be easier if I showed you." He eased off the chair and crept closer, hesitating when she edged away. "May I?" He pointed to his antenna. "I can transmit my memories through these, from my mind straight into yours. It'll be faster than talking."

     Her eyes widened. "You're telepathic?"

     He sought to reassure her before she started screaming again. "In a sense. We can't transmit direct thought unless we're in physical contact. But we are empathic, capable of picking up on heightened emotion from a distance." He peered over the rim of his specs and met her eyes. "You don't have to be afraid. I promise it won't hurt you. You can ask Charley; I once used the same method on her and she's never suffered any ill-effects."

     Alley hesitated another second, then took a deep breath, gathering her composure, and nodded once. She closed her eyes, startled a little when he nudged her chin up and gripped the back of her head. He pressed his antenna to her temples and opened his mind. She jerked, but he'd been expecting that and held her still, knowing the sudden explosion of information pouring into her head would be a bit overwhelming to a human. He kept the stream slow and steady and mentally explained what she was seeing, and she gradually relaxed as understanding replaced fear. He showed her everything that had happened, from the complete strip-mining of Mars by the Plutarkians, to the present struggle to prevent Limburger from doing the same thing to Earth.

     It only took a few minutes, and when he finally withdrew, Alley opened her eyes and stared at him, looking stunned. "Wow," was all she said.

     "Yup." He chuckled. "That about sums it up."

     She shook her head. "Well, I guess that explains why half of Chicago looks like the aftermath of a natural disaster." She eased back, drawing her knees up to her chin. "Does this happen a lot? With the whole thwarting evil and … blowing up that guy's tower and such?"

     "Once or twice a month," Throttle replied. "Usually depends on how fast old Cheese Head can rebuild. It's been pretty quiet lately, though. Makes me think he's up to something. His tower's probably due for another toppling any day now."

     "And Charley is dragged into this war how often?"

     Nope. She definitely did not sound happy about the casual way he spoke of wanton destruction.

     "Easy, Alley-girl. That's what we're here for, to make sure nothing happens to her," he tried to reassure her.

     "But stuff does happen. She's been kidnapped already, a few times!"

     He pouted. "We've always gotten her back again! It isn't like we willingly let her go charging into danger. We try to leave her behind where it's safe, but she's pretty stubborn. You should see how well she handles a rocket launcher, though."

     Alley did not look impressed.

     Throttle decided it was probably time to change the subject. "So, uh, Charley-girl tells us you're here to attend school," he began awkwardly, after a few long moments of silence.

     She blinked. "Yes. College."

     Aaaand, apparently she wasn't much of a talker. Or maybe she just didn't want to talk to him. While Charley had warmed right up to the trio—He supposed saving her life repeatedly within the first few hours of meeting probably had something to do with that—Alley still looked like she was ready to head for the hills.

     For the love of Mars, what did it take to get this girl to relax? She was wound tighter than Vinnie on a sugar binge! Throttle drummed his fingers on the armrest again, considered whether he ought to go drag Charley back up, or even call his bros back … anything so he didn't have to be in this supremely awkward situation all by himself.

     And then, a long, low growl greeted his sensitive ears. Alley blushed and clapped her arms across her stomach. He had to chuckle at the embarrassment on her face. "You hungry, huh?"

      "No shit, Sherlock," she grumbled. "I didn't get around to breakfast yet."

     He raised an eyebrow. Finally. A spark of something other than quivering terror. They were making progress! "You can go ahead and eat," he offered gallantly.

     She slowly got to her feet. "You, um, you don't have to stay here. If you ... have other places you need to be." She sounded so hopeful.

     And she'd just handed him the out he'd been so desperately wishing for! Why wasn't he scrambling to take it?

     Maybe it was because he felt just a bit offended that she was still so eager to get rid of him.

     Or maybe he was too distracted by the second tattoo he'd just spotted on the back of her neck; a larger, more colorful version of the one on her hand.

     Then again, even that wasn't nearly as distracting as the way the thin strap of her fluttery, lacy, very girly top kept trying to slip down her shoulder. Or the way the tight black jean shorts she wore under it hugged her hips and butt. He gulped and quickly dropped his gaze, then blinked. Good grief, even her toenails were painted. A bright, glossy purple that matched the color of her shirt.

     "Do … uh … do you want some?"

     Throttle guiltily jerked his gaze to meet Alley's; apparently he'd been staring just a little too hard. She had set a glass casserole dish full of … something unfamiliar on the table, and was now regarding him with a questioning look. His nose twitched as the scent of cinnamon tickled his senses. "Sure," he agreed, before common sense could catch up with his brain. "Er, what is it?"

     She tilted her head. "It's baked oatmeal. You've never eaten oatmeal before?"

     "Can't say I have. We don't have oatmeal on Mars."

     "Yes, but … Oh. You're why Charley keeps the fridge packed with soda and hot dogs, huh?"

     He grinned. "Yeah. Good stuff, that. Can't get that on Mars, either."

     She considered. "Is that really all you eat? It can't be good for you."

     "Hasn't killed us yet," he replied with a chuckle.

     She snorted. "Give it time. I'm sure your heart will give out eventually."

     He scoffed. "Nah, we're made of stronger stuff than that."

     Alley seemed to realize that she was fighting a losing battle. She simply shrugged, cut two large squares of the oatmeal and put them into shallow bowls. While they heated in the microwave, she dug around in the fridge and withdrew a fresh gallon of milk and a can of whipped cream. "I take mine with milk and cream," she told him. "You can try it with or without."

     "Can't say I've ever had milk, either," he admitted, eyeballing the bottle with distaste.

     She gaped. "Seriously? Not once?"

     "There aren't a lot of milk-producing mammals on Mars," he explained. "Aside from us mice. And the rats. And the sand raiders. And maybe one or two other species that are usually too busy trying to eat us to let someone … eh…"

     "Milk them?"

     "Yeah. Ugh."

     She actually cracked a smile at that. He noted that her teeth were shiny white, but a little crooked. She pulled a small glass out of the cabinet and poured it half-full of milk, offering it to him. He regarded it with a raised eyebrow. She raised hers in silent challenge. "Just try it. This came from a cow, incidentally."

     "And that makes it better … how?" But he accepted the glass, because he was finally getting her to relax and didn't want to ruin it by being rude. Took a cautious sip. Let it roll around in his mouth a bit before swallowing. It was … not as horrible as expected. But it was an odd texture; kind of thick, with a faintly sweet taste. He could feel it coating his tongue and throat and wasn't sure he liked that. He also wasn't used to drinking anything that wasn't carbonated aside from water.

     "So?"

     "Eh. I think I prefer the root beer." But he finished the glass in two more gulps, because she was smiling at him again.

     Her grin widened. "You've got a little…" She gestured at her mouth; he raised his hand and was embarrassed to find a ring of cream soaking the fur on his muzzle. "Don't worry. Milk mustaches are pretty normal for the uninitiated," she teased, taking the heated oatmeal from the microwave and sliding one of the bowls across the table to him. She added a bit of milk and a healthy dollop of whipped cream on top of hers, and dug in.

     He followed her example and took a cautious bite; he had tried different Earth foods in the past, but most of them tended to be fried, grilled, and heavily seasoned. This, however, was surprisingly good. A faint flavor of cinnamon and what he assumed was the oats; without the milk and cream to sweeten it, it would have been pretty bland, actually. But it was warm, and filling. A good staple food (although still not as good as hot dogs). "That wasn't bad," he told her when he finished. "Thanks for the grub."

     "Sure." She cleared the dishes, carrying them to the sink. He helped by putting the food back in the fridge, snatching a root beer with his tail before closing the door. He felt Alley's gaze on him, and found her watching his actions with a look of fascination. He set the root beer on the counter, then used his tail to turn on the faucet and grab the bottle of dish soap to squeeze some into the filling sink. Her eyes followed his every move.

     "Your tail is prehensile?" she asked after a moment.

     "You sound surprised."

     "Well, uh, I guess because earth rodents don't have prehensile tails."

     "Well, I'm a bit different from an earth rodent," he sniffed.

     "Oh. I didn't mean-" She bit her lip and turned to the sink to begin washing out the bowls. He waited; he could feel her curiosity tickling along his senses. Now that the fear was fading, it was inevitably kicking in. "So, uh, can you do anything with that tail, or are you limited with its mobility?" she asked after a moment. "I mean, is it very strong?"

     "Strong enough to lift a fully-grown mouse. Or a human," he replied. Although he wouldn't have chosen to use himself as a topic, at least she was starting to open up and talk. "Think of it as a third arm, or something. Losing a tail impacts a mouse as much as losing an arm or leg would impact a human."

     She nodded, stacking the dishes in the drainer beside the sink. "And it doesn't hurt to lift something that heavy? I mean, your tail is attached directly to your spine, right? It doesn't put excess strain on your back or anything?"

     "We develop very strong muscles from a very young age. Our backs are well-padded, don't worry." Throttle was surprised by Alley's blunt questioning. Charley had never asked them such things, in all the years she'd known them. Perhaps she felt such questions were too personal. He rather felt they were too personal, but he supposed he could put up with it. At least she was no longer screaming, or crying, or attempting to throw blunt objects at his head.

     "Hey, guys. Anyone here?" Charley's voice drifted from the direction of the living room, making them both jump in surprise.

     Throttle felt a rush of relief at her appearance. It was about time! "In here," he called, and a moment later she appeared in the doorway. She took everything in with a raised eyebrow, then tossed him a catty grin. "Well, isn't this the cozy little domestic scene. Getting along, are we?"

     He was glad for his thick fur at times like these, when it felt like his whole head might erupt in flame. "Sure. Piece of cake." He shrugged, attempting to affect casual aloofness. "She fed me and everything."

     "There's still some oatmeal left in the fridge if you want any," Alley put in. "I can make more tomorrow. I bought fresh ingredients yesterday."

     Charley straightened, looking back and forth between Alley and a highly-embarrassed mouse. "Wait. You fed Throttle," she repeated.

     Alley blinked at her. "Uh-huh."

     "You fed him oatmeal."

     Throttle scowled at her; she ignored him.

     "Yeeeees," Alley replied slowly, looking confused. "And half a glass of milk."

     Charley slumped against the counter, one hand dramatically clutching her heart. "I don't believe it. I've spent years trying to get these macho mice to eat anything resembling health food, and you somehow manage it within the first half hour of meeting them!" She reached across the counter and clutched a very confused Alley's hands in hers. "Please. I must know your secret!"

     Throttle growled, trying to sound annoyed despite the grin that kept twitching at his mouth. He whipped his tail around to give Charley a playful smack on the rear, making her yelp and laugh. "Don't go getting any ideas, now. I was just bein' polite!"

Next

[onestowatch]

5 Of Our Favorite Unexpected Musical Holiday Gifts

Christmas has officially come and past, and we here at Ones To Watch certainly hope that you received everything of your wildest dreams this holiday season. However, while we still recover from feasts of holiday ham and Chinese food, we present you with one final gift. The holiday season brought along with it some unexpected gifts from some of our favorite artists in the form of holiday-themed renditions of timeless classics and a newly invented holiday banger to play on repeat throughout the new year. So, without further ado, here are a few of our favorite unexpected holiday-themed songs that came about this holiday season.

Rag’N’Bone Man - “It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas”

The first unexpected gift of the season came courtesy of neo-blues and soul singer Rag’N’Bone Man who stopped by the BBC Radio 1 Live Lounge. With powerful minimalistic artistic delivery and his trademark baritone vocal styling, Rag’N’Bone Man delivered an exceptional version of the 1951 hit popularized by Perry Como and The Fontaine Sisters, as well as Bing Crosby, “It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas.” For an added bonus, enjoy the commitment paid to the Santa Claus aesthetic.

Mark Johns & BLAISE – “Joy”

Don’t be fooled by its name, this is not an interpretation of any Christmas carol or classic. “Joy” is a new holiday song perfectly designed for this season’s generation. With mentions of clout googles, Yeezys, Fendi, and Prada, is it possible that Mark Johns and BLAISE’s “Joy” is a thinly veiled commentary on music and its culture’s obsession with heightened forms of capitalistic, materialistic shows of wealth and status? To be honest, your guess on the matter is as good as mine, but the free-flowing nature of it all makes an undeniable holiday-themed banger.

Kristin Kontrol – “Last Xmas”

Arguably the best Christmas song ever is the often covered but rarely done justice – “Last Christmas.”  Recorded by English pop duo Wham! in 1984, the band brought new life into the Christmas music tradition with the band’s liberal use of synthesizers and George Michael’s genius for writing genuine pop hits. Cut to the present day, where Kirstin Kontrol, an artist clearly fond of and influenced by the ‘80s hallmark synthesized style, authentically recreates that original ‘80s Christmas magic with her rendition – “Last Xmas.”

Jungook (JK) of BTS – “Oh Holy Night”

Korean boyband BTS has a devout and massive following overseas, which is nothing new for Korean boybands, but what is new is that this is one of the first and only Korean boybands to bridge the gap between k-pop and traditional top 40s. And in traditional top 40s fashion, the younger member of BTS, JK, released a stirring rendition of the well-known Christmas carol “O Holy Night” as a Christmas present of sorts for his adoring fans and many more soon to be. 

James Blake – “Vincent”

Originally written and performed by Don McLean in 1971, “Vincent,” was originally intended as a tribute to the late artist Vincent Van Gogh and his painting “The Starry Night,” as opposed to a traditional holiday song. However, much in proper James Blake manner, Blake repurposed the classic, performing an innately intimate interpretation of the Don McLean classic and forever adorning “Vincent” in the storied history of holiday songs.

For more on James Blake, check out our 6 Ones To Know If You’re a Fan of James Blake. And from all of us here at Ones To Watch, wishing you an amazing time in the New Year!

[popthiscollective]

Episode 109: Love Actually vs. The Holiday 3

Here we go again! It's year 3 of our (now) annual December tradition of fighting over whether Love Actually or The Holiday is the best (and/or worst) holiday film of all time. Join us for this annual fight, won't you?

Also discussed: Joan Didion, St. Vincent and how Andrea Warner has accidentally become a year-round Christmas person.

This episode is sponsored by Got Craft! Holiday Edition, happening Dec. 9 + 10 and Maritime Labour Centre in East Van!

Show notes:

It's Okay to Start Celebrating Christmas Now

Wham!, "Last Christmas"

Waitresses, "Christmas Wrapping"

Love Actually 2 for Red Nose Day

3 girls dancing in Love Actually

The Intern trailer

Recommendations:

Lisa: Joan Didion: The Center Will Not Hold (Netflix)

Andrea: St. Vincent, Masseduction

Music credits:

  "Glockenspiel Beat" by Podington Bear

from Free Music Archive

CC BY-NC 3.0

  "Nouvelle Noel" Kevin MacLeod 

From Incompetech CC BY 3.0

  Theme song "Pyro Flow" by Kevin Macleod

From Incompetch

CC BY 3.0

  Intro bed:"OLPC" by Marco Raaphorst

From Free Music Archive

CC BY-SA 3.0 NL

  Pop This! Links Pop This! on Tumblr Pop This! on iTunes (please consider reviewing and rating us!) Pop This! on Stitcher (please consider reviewing and rating us!) Pop This! on Google Play Pop This! on TuneIn radio Pop This! on Twitter Pop This! on Facebook

Logo design by Samantha Smith

Pop This! is two women talking about pop culture.

Lisa Christiansen is a broadcaster, journalist and longtime metal head. Andrea Warner is a music critic, author and former horoscopes columnist.

Press play and come hang out with your two new best friends.

Pop This! podcast is produced by Andrea Gin and recorded at the Vancouver Public Library.

Check out our latest episode!

[albobeati7]

I MADE THIS MEME WITH VINCENT BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE HECKING WILL GDI

YOU’RE WELCOME

[albobeati7]

Well hewwo there Vincent Van Wham, why you so close to Throttle's face in this WIP?

<:3c

Gosh I really do be wanting to make an ask blog for these bros 😳💞

FEED THE FANDOM (and myself thsjdjsjsak).

[quickeningheart]

Four

   Alley watched Charley and Throttle banter back and forth, feeling as if she'd somehow stumbled into an episode of the Twilight Zone. She just couldn't get past how … well, how alien Throttle was, yet her cousin was laughing and teasing and treating him just like she'd treat any longtime friend or family member. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

   She considered making a strategic retreat to her bedroom while the pair was distracted, until Throttle suddenly perked up, his head cocking to one side as his ears twitched back and forth. Alley bit her lip to hold in a smile; he reminded her of Mercedes when something had caught her attention. “Whoops,” he announced a moment later. “Party's over, ladies. Looks like the bros are back.”

   He'd barely finished speaking before the distinct rumble of motorcycles pulling into the garage—heralded by the clang of the welcome bell—announced their arrival. Alley glanced longingly in the direction of her room, but Charley (the traitor) grabbed her by the arm and steered her back into the living room, forcing her into the very same chair Throttle had been sitting in. Alley's skin crawled, imagining she could feel the prickle of shed fur against her back and legs.

   “Maybe you could go warn them to come up slow and steady and not like a herd of elephants, huh?” Charley suggested. Throttle saluted playfully and took the stairs two at a time down to the garage.   She turned back to her cousin and offered an encouraging smile. “Come on, Alley Cat. Relax! Throttle isn't so bad, is he?”

   The jury was still out on that one, but Alley had to admit she'd been getting used to the golden mouse. There was something pleasant about his voice. It was kind of soft and husky, like smoke and velvet in her ears. And his demeanor had been calm and relaxed. He’d treated her gently, even though she could tell he’d been a bit irritated by her reaction. “I guess not,” she sighed. “He’s pretty … nice.” She frowned, remembering. “But, that big gray one…”

   “Modo? Oh, don’t let his size fool you. He’s a pussycat!”

   Alley barked a laugh. “Oh, sure. A pussycat. The big, angry, man-eating kind.”

   Charley pulled a face at her. “Don't be ridiculous. Look, there's a lot of bad blood between the Martian mice and rats, and mistaking one for the other is sort of an insult on their planet, but Modo feels bad for scaring you. Give him a chance, okay? He’s a sweetheart when you get to know him. A real gentleman. And he really loves his mama. You can't go wrong with a guy who loves his mama, right?”

   “I dunno. Norman Bates really loved his mama.”

   “Alley Davidson!” Charley choked on a laugh. “Stop it! I'm trying to be serious, here!”

   Alley huffed and relented. “Well, what about the little white one?”

   “Vinnie?” Charley chuckled uneasily, shaking her head. “Hmm. What can I say about Vincent Van Wham?”

   “Anything you like, Sweetheart! My stunning good looks? My sparkling personality? Pick a subject!” A grinning white-and-silver face appeared like magic over the back of Alley's chair, causing Alley to squawk and fling herself out of it. She landed on the floor with a thud, flipping over and crab-walking straight into Charley's legs.

   Charley slapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh, for the—Vinnie! Could you try not to give my cousin a nervous breakdown?” she snapped, shooting him a black look amid sniggers from his bros.

   He grinned sheepishly, easing around to take Alley's place in the chair. “Sorry, Sweetheart.”

   “Does he always call you Sweetheart?” Alley whispered.

   Charley patted her shoulder. “He calls everyone Sweetheart. It's kind of his thing.” She rolled her eyes. “You'll get used to it.”

   Modo approached slowly, and Alley eyed him as he towered over her, giving her a polite nod. She nodded back and fought the urge to scramble under the couch. Mostly because there was no way she would fit.

   “Just wanted to say, I’m awful sorry for scarin’ you like I did,” he rumbled. “Me an' rats don't get along so well, but it wasn't right, losin' my temper. My gray-furred mama always said the first impression's the lastin' one, an' I guess I didn't make such a great one on you. I'd like to set that straight, if I can.”

   Alley nodded absently, but she was hardly listening; her eyes had locked on the giant's right arm. It wasn't a flesh-and-blood limb. It looked like one of those bionic arms that she'd only ever seen in science fiction movies. Good grief, this isn't the Twilight Zone. It's turned into Star Trek, she thought, biting back the hysterical urge to giggle. “D-did a rat do that to you?” she asked instead … and jumped when Charley smacked her across the head.

   Oh. That had come out a little rude, hadn't it?

   Modo glanced at his arm self-consciously. “Nah,” he said, his voice calm. “Ol’ Karbunkle’s the one responsible for this.”

   She frowned. Now why did that name sound familiar? She thought for a bit, before remembering. “Oh, he’s that freaky scientist guy,” she murmured. “The one who looks like a mutant.”

   Charley gave her a surprised glance. “You’ve seen him?”

   “Oh, yeah.” Alley gestured to her head. “Throttle did that … mind-meld trick to show me what was going on. The same thing he did to you when you first met.”

   There was dead silence. Vinnie and Modo pinned a squirming Throttle with probing stares. “It’s easier than tryin’ to talk my way through everything,” the golden mouse protested to their raised eyebrows. “There was a lot to cover, all right?”

   “Hey, not judging, Sweetheart!” Vinnie held up his hands, his mouth twitching. “Just better hope Carbine doesn’t find out.”

   “She won’t find out. It wasn’t like that, anyhow!”

   Alley glanced at Charley, who looked as confused as she felt. “Am I missing something?” she whispered.

   Modo glanced at them. “Well, directly touchin' minds is sorta intimate,” he explained, tapping his temple. “It’s useful if we’re in a bad situation and need to exchange intel without gettin’ caught, but for a male and female to join minds in a casual setting, it's kinda…” He trailed off, clearing his throat and taking a sudden fascination with the ceiling as he nervously scratched under his chin.

   Luckily, Vinnie was there to take over. “That sorta stuff is usually reserved for the bedroom,” he finished, grinning and waggling his eyebrows comically. “It’s a fantastic way to increase the intimacy between mates during—”

   “Vincent.” Throttle, who was looking increasingly mortified, cut the white mouse off with a smack of his tail.

   Alley glanced up at her cousin, still confused. Charley's face had turned pink, but her eyes were dancing with mischief as she turned around on the couch, resting her chin on her crossed arms and pinning the squirming mouse with a playful stare. “Throttle, you hound,” she teased, her voice filled with laughter. “Puttin’ the moves on us like that, and we never even suspected. I never knew you had it in you!”

   Alley promptly choked as the meaning hit home, turning an accusing, slightly-horrified gaze to the golden mouse. “You were putting moves on me?” she squeaked.

   “No!” he yelled as the rest of them cracked up. “It wasn’t like that!” He groaned, wiping a hand over his face, under his field specs. “You guys are never gonna forget this, are you?”

   “Hell, no, lover boy!” Charley blew him a playful kiss, which earned him a jealous glare from Vinnie and more laughter from Modo.

   Alley abruptly decided that enough was enough, and scrambled to her feet. “I, um, I've gotta go … do … something,” she muttered, and beat a hasty retreat to her room before anyone could stop her. She slammed the door and slumped against it, sliding to the floor with a thump. Mercedes's snout appeared from the nest of wood shavings and shredded paper towels she'd burrowed into, whiskers twitching curiously. Alley crawled over to the cage and poked a finger through the bars to tickle the rat's nose. “Good grief, Mercy,” she sighed. “What the hell did I get myself into?”

     ~*~*~*~*~

   Alley hid in her room for an hour, paging through the picture scrapbooks she'd brought with her from home. She missed home. She missed her parents. She missed her friends. She even missed Chaz. She wished she had a phone so she could call Chaz, just to hear his voice. Then again, lately he didn't have much to say to her; he was still pissed that she'd broken up with him two weeks before leaving for Chicago.

   She turned the album to a page filled with photos of herself and her friends; lounging on the beach; at a pool party in Yuri's back yard; her and Chaz cuddling under a blanket beside a bonfire…

   She examined the closeup of her ex-boyfriend giving the camera a deadpan stare and a thumbs up, and wrinkled her nose. Well, maybe “pissed” was too strong a word. Chaz didn't get pissed. Mildly annoyed, maybe, when he could be bothered to care. That was the problem with Chaz. He was tall, handsome, well-mannered…

   He also had the personality of tile grout.

   “Ugh,” she grunted, slapped the album shut and shoved it into a corner of the room. She decided maybe she didn't miss him so much, after all. “I can’t believe I wasted an entire year on that walking doormat.”

   Mercedes twitched her whiskers, climbing the side of her cage.

   “Well, he was really cute!” Alley defended herself. “And he did have nice manners. Also didn’t hurt that his parents are loaded. Too bad he didn’t have a romantic bone in his entire body. I mean, I’m the one who always had to plan the dates! And forget about making out. You’d think I was diseased or something, the way he always shied away from kissing.”

   Mercedes squeaked at her.

   “I know, I know,” she grumbled. “That’s what I get for being shallow and dating a cute rich guy. He was probably gay. I mean, I’m gorgeous, right? What straight guy in his right mind wouldn’t want a piece of this?”

   Mercedes replied by crawling into her nest of wood shavings and shredded tissues and curling up to sleep.

   “Gee. Thanks for the heart-to-heart. You always know just what to say.”

   Alley staggered to her feet. Her butt and legs had gone numb from sitting cross-legged on the floor for so long. She hobbled to the door, opening it a crack to listen outside. There was absolute silence. She peeked out, then crept down the short hallway to the living room. Charley and the mice were gone. In their place stood a pile of wooden parts that she recognized as the pieces of her furniture. They must have gone ahead and taken the bed and dresser apart to get them up from the garage. Alley felt momentarily guilty, knowing she should've helped. It was her furniture, after all.

   She crept down the stairs far enough to peek into the brightly-lit garage, where she noticed her bus had been parked in an unused corner. And there was Charley, surrounded by a pile of car parts, working on fastening a door onto the frame of a car. “Are they gone?” she called.

   Her cousin stopped working, lifted the welding mask from her face, and turned to give her cousin a hard stare. “For now,” she replied. “They're coming back later, though. I promised them dinner and movies for their help.” She folded her arms across her chest, radiating disapproval.

   Alley suddenly felt as if she'd been caught by her mother sneaking in late after a party or something. “Okay, what?” she asked, mirroring Charley's stance.

   “I don't appreciate the way you treated my friends,” the redhead scolded. “They did their best to welcome you in their own way. They don't interact with a lot of humans, you know. It's not like there's proper etiquette for introducing two alien species to each other. Yeah, they're a bit startling at first, but I think you totally overreacted. The Alley I remember was never such a shrinking violet.”

   “I—But you—And they—Well, what about you?” Alley sputtered, switching from shamefaced to defensive in two seconds. “Maybe I wouldn't have 'overreacted' if you hadn't waited until thirty seconds beforehand to tell me I was about to meet giant talking alien mice!”

   Charley blinked, then cracked a small smile. “You make a good point,” she conceded.

   “Damn straight, I do.” Alley's own lips were twitching despite the scowl she was trying hard to keep in place. “I warned you I was bringing a pet. The least you could've done was return the favor!”

   Charley choked out a laugh. “Alley, that’s mean! They're not animals, no matter what they look like. They're as much people as we are! They just happen to possess tails and fur coats and hail from a different planet.”

   “I know that.” Alley sighed, hopping up to sit on Charley's tool chest.

   “Will you promise to at least try and get to know them. I mean, if it wasn't for them, most of this planet would've been strip-mined and shipped off to Plutark by now. They're really heroes, if you stop to think about it. They deserve a little respect.”

   “Okay, okay. I promise I'll give them another chance, and I won't even run screaming for the hills this time.” At Charley's dubious look, she added, “Scout's honor!” and held up four fingers.

   “That's the Vulcan peace sign, Alley.”

   “Pfft. Whatever.”

   Charley sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I'm so glad we had this little chat.”

   The colorful blond laughed and patted her on the shoulder. “Anytime, Charley-girl! What else is family for?”

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