#fuck Crisp Ratt

[cosmically-caffeinated-owl]

No nuanced analysis, but if any of the marvel groups are a true queer found family its the guardians of the galaxy

#fuck crisp ratt rhis isnt about him #this is about the character star lord and about rocket and groot and nebula #them #fuck im sobbing

[people-will-definitely-talk]

I hate AI generated stuff but on this I can make an exception, everybody say thank you youtube user seanmacproduction

#super mario #super mario movie #crisp ratt can go fuck himself #he has the range of a boiled potato #charles martinet #chris pratt #jack black #super mario trailer #bowser #super mario bros film #super mario bros

[gutmeats]

okay YES Jack Black as Bowser is an excellent choice, and YES Crisp Ratt Mario Bad but also. Keegan-Michael Key Toad great too. like he sounds like Toad

#gutspeaks #all im seeing about mario movie trailer is hell yeah jack black fuck you crisp ratt HI LUIGI MY FRIEND LUIGI #which is fine and great and dandy. but i havent seen a single person talking about Keegan-Michael Key #I. Wonder. Why.

[zelda-pairings]

I'm kinda surprised no one is really mentioning how Keegan Michael Key didn't do a typical Toad voice for the new Mario movie trailer. Everyone talks about how Chris Pratt didn't even try, and how amazing Jack Black is, but no one has really brought up Toad.

Toad being high pitched and scratchy is funny as a joke, but I'm glad that it's looking like that won't be the case, at least for the main Toad.

Though seriously....if Jack brought the attitude for Bowser, and Keegan masked his voice enough I had to Google his role, Chris could do an accent, or Illumination should have listened to feedback (from all sources, not just focus groups, cuz very few people like Chris anymore) and given the role to anyone else. An actual voice actor, or a celebrity that does voice work (Nick Offerman, anyone?), if Charles couldn't do it for whatever reason.

#zelda mumbles #the new mario movie #SMB #just some thoughts on the first trailer #I do want the movie to do well #cuz if it tanks we can say goodbye to any future nintendo movie #but holy fuck they should have redone the voice work #only idiots moms and young kids like crisp ratt anymore

[gay-jewish-bucky]

not going to name names but some of you have GOT to accept marvel studios fucking hates queer people and no amount of ridiculous conspiracies will change that

like sorry they were not ~protecting chris and seb from harassment for being straight people playing queer characters by not making stucky canon~ (do you really not remember givecaptainamericaaboyfriend?!?!?!?! literally no one cared and the people who do are a minority) they have never once showed they cared about their actors being harassed (besides crisp ratt, meanwhile evc and brie larson have been left to deal with bullshit for years)

they also haven't been ~secretly hinting at the ship being possible in canon while never actually confirming it~ (that one is literally the definition of queerbaiting, and if they actually supported it and didn't despise it they wouldn't have ruined steve's character to avoid it)

they constantly undermine and twist things to avoid depicting queer characters at all costs, while baiting us by promising they've done the bare minimum in a new project and never delivering or delivering worse than nothing

put on your big boy pants and grow up and stop giving them any fucking credit bc they sure as hell don't deserve it

#marvel #mcu #anti marvel #anti mcu #marvel critical #mcu critical #anti marvel fandom #anti marvel fans

[pinkrelish]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

✶He made it clear he never wanted to see you again, and yet, here you were running into him face-first after he hunted you down.✶

NSFW — parent death, alluding to abuse, light angst, 18+ overall for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 4/15 [wc: 3.5k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 4: Waffles Heal All Wounds

A diner. That’s where you woke up. The frowning woman knocking on your car’s roof told you so.

Squinting from the sun behind her, you rolled down your window and tried to appear more awake than you were. “Hi?”

She put a hand on her hip where her brown half-apron was tied. “You’re illegally parked.”

You leaned your head out and, sure enough, when you had pulled into a parking lot last night out of desperation to avoid an embarrassing death of ‘cried too hard and hit a tree,’ you parked sideways, taking up three spaces. “Oh shit, sorry.” You fumbled for your keys in the cupholder under a mountain of tissues.

Maybe it was how haggard your appearance was, or specifically the streaks of dried mascara on your cheeks, but she took an ounce of pity on you. “Cops like to stop to get coffee here, didn’t want you getting a ticket,” she said, going inside to flip around the sign on the door.

“‘Preciate it!”

Having nothing better to do until later, and still reeling from the after effects of your massive post-sob hangover, you decided a morning beginning with a stack of syrupy waffles sounded amazing right about now. You adjusted the rearview mirror and scrubbed yesterday’s fuck up from under your eyes, staining your crisp white tracksuit’s sleeve. Doing your best to tidy up your appearance regardless of the nauseating remorse churning your stomach.

“What else did I expect?” you chided your reflection.

The same middle-aged woman from earlier sat you at the booth in the corner. It was your decision to face the wall. After the memories of last night had flooded in, you just wanted to be left alone to sulk; head in your hands, waiting for food you were losing the appetite for the longer you stewed over what you’d done.

When the waitress returned to take your order, you were still hunched over, rubbing your palms into your eyes. “Waffles.”

“Long night?”

“Yeah.”

“Waffles cure everything!” she expelled her wisdom, chipper than when you were causing her problems in the parking lot.

“Doubt it.”

Nursing your headache with soothing sips of fresh coffee, you sat in disillusioned silence. Tinny music cut in from a radio near the kitchen. Someone turned the pages of a newspaper. The door chimed. Chimed again. Tiny birds chirped, hopped, pecked around the concrete outside. A chair creaked as someone sat down a few tables behind you. None of it an adequate distraction from your cynical sentiments about being in the small town you had ambivalent feelings towards. Hating your rather optimistic bout of nerves yesterday at the prospect of seeing him again. Building and building. Excitement, adrenaline over seeing your childhood best friend. Hoping.. Hoping against all odds he’d be just as happy to see you too.

Stupid.

So stupid.

Two waffles appeared before you. A small cup of syrup and a packet of butter, too. Delicious. Unfortunately, you weren’t hungry for more than half of the one on top, surrendering by dropping your fork and knife on the plate, not caring about the loud clang they made, struggling to chew and swallow what was in your dry mouth.

After what seemed like the longest thirty seconds of your life, you drank the rest of your coffee and scooted to the end of the booth and stood up, too busy ruminating on your failures to pay attention to what was in front of you.

RATT.

The band’s logo came into focus a fraction before your nose collided with it. Along with patches on a jean vest. Hints of weed and alcohol despite the gentle, sober breath grazing your face. The invading scent of stale cigarette smoke and worn leather. Old Spice, too. You’d think he’d find something new to wear since you left, but he didn’t, and somehow, the pang of nostalgia was both comforting and vicious. A trap you understood like an old friend.

Standing toe to toe with Eddie, you were shivering in the artificial cool air. He was warm. A welcoming presence once upon a time, now stiff and awkward with your sudden proximity. Bodies touching on accident due to your timing of getting up to leave the moment he approached. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped; the only tell he was equally as flustered as you. When you forced your gaze to meet his, you caught the flick of his eyes lifting from elsewhere lower on your face.

“I’m ready to talk,” he stated.

Relief and fear was evident in your simple, “Okay.” You motioned for him to join you, and of course, he was already moving to do so without your permission.

This booth was not made for two people on tentative speaking terms. Sitting across from Eddie, the top of the table was cramped with your plate and drinkware; underneath, you fidgeted until your legs were between his, so he could stop stepping on your shoes. He knocked your right knee in the shuffle and you clenched your teeth to hide the wince.

“You look rough,” he said, clearly indicating the smeared lines of mascara on your cheeks.

“You look handsome,” you retorted in the same deadpan tone.

Against his will, his eyebrow quirked. Sincere amusement flashed in his dark brown eyes. A charitable glimpse of the boy you used to know. “Haven’t been called handsome in years. If I call you beautiful, can I have the rest of that?” He pointed at the waffles, and of course, you were already pushing them towards him.

And that was it. That’s all it took for you to fall victim to your old ways. Volunteering, practically, to fawn over the most minute of details in how he ate with your fork. Chewing with his mouth slightly open, always. Sipping from your water glass.

Either he’d meant to put his lips over the exact print your chapstick left behind in a sort of pseudo kiss, or he had impeccable aim.

The waitress lingered at the end of your table gripping her notepad and tapping her pencil on it nervously, shifting her gaze from you to the cops at the counter staring you down with a fierce sneer.. Well, not you. They were glaring at Eddie’s existence, who was distracted by the birds outside.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked.

Eddie swept his attention to her, a grand smile on his face and hands clasped cutely on the table. “Could I get a coffee, please and thank you?”

She didn’t look at him. Rather, eyeing his myriad of heavy metal patches. Making assumptions about him and turning on her heel. Treating him differently from how she treated you, regardless of the fact you may as well have been cut from the same cloth. If it bothered him, he didn’t let it show. In mutual agreement, you remained quiet in the lulled purgatory of lapsed conversation, waiting until she returned with his coffee, refilled your own, and walked away to pick up where you left off.

“So..” Eddie stabbed another piece of waffle. “Why’d you leave without telling me?”

“Starting with the million dollar question, I see.” You sank back into the dense cushion of the booth, and when that felt too far away for your private conversation, you rested your forearms on your thighs and picked at your cuticles. “Do you know what my last memory of you is?” Glancing up from the plate, he shook his head, and you’d never recover from the way his curls bounced.

Accepting your burgeoning grin, you wore gladly, aware it wouldn’t last. “We were standing in your kitchen. Riders on the Storm was playing in your room. I had just blown out the candles on the birthday cake you made me and I remember thinking how that was the nicest thing anyone had done for me, birthday or not. It meant even more coming from you. The year before that you picked me flowers, which I still have pressed in a book, by the way, but there was something special about you going through the trouble of baking me a cake and decorating it. We’ve known each other for most of our lives and not once have you looked at me like you did when I took a piece. You were just so.. I don’t know, proud of me.” You exhaled a long sigh until anxiety closed in on your lungs. ”I wanted our last memory together to be a happy one. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“Did you eat it? The cake?”

“Hell yeah.”

He allowed his smirk to come through. “Good. Didn’t want it to go to waste because of your mom.”

“Right..” you agreed, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants. Your change in demeanor was palpable. An omen like vultures circling the obvious. Eddie’s rings clinked on the table as he set down the fork, tilting his head to get a better read on your expression painted in melancholic hues from the rogue cloud covering the sun.

“You made me strong,” you said, crossing your arms and digging your knuckle into your lip, savoring the mild pain on your gums. “You know I couldn’t cry around her, or else she’d.. whatever. I would just hold it in. All day. And when things got really bad, at night I’d play the BBC Radio’s adaptation of The Hobbit. It’s not the same as you reading to me, but it helped.” Outside, the birds flew away. “I thought about you every single day, Eddie.”

“I thought about you too,” he admitted, tearing open sugar packets. Your heart leapt at each scrape of the spoon against the ceramic mug. “Tried not to.”

Prepared to hear as much, but at a loss for words, you prompted him for more, “Yeah?”

He ran his tongue across the back of his teeth. “Yeah.”

One uttered word wielded like a weapon. You had never seen him angry before last night. Pissed off over inconveniences, sure, but last night.. He hated you, and though you could hazard a guess why, he hadn’t explained his side of the story yet.

For someone who wanted to talk, he hadn’t said much.

“I thought you would be okay.. I mean, I was the one moving to a new state and starting over from scratch, at least you had other friends here.”

“Not like you,” his vulnerability was whispered, “Our friendship was different. You knew that.”

“Eddie..”

Finished eating, he set the plate at the end of the table and ran his hand over his face. Doing the thing he did when he wanted to hide how upset he was; dragging his fingers over his closed eyes and down to his jaw. Working through the sting of knowing a memory he hated was beloved by you. Confused as to what he should be feeling when the night that changed his life for the worse was meant to comfort you through trauma. Was it right to be mad at you?

A difficult thing to parse when so much of sitting across from one another was intrinsic to your time together, having done it casually day after day, cramped together at the small green table in his kitchen, or huddled at the end of the cafeteria table away from the other students, or skipping class to sit at the picnic table in the woods. Longing for the familiar territory of one another’s company and not knowing if it could ever be the same, or if it would last.

“Listen, I don’t remember much about the day you left,” he explained. “Or the days after, really. I kinda went off the deep end, but I do remember telling Wayne I knew you were leaving and I was just taking it hard, so he doesn’t know the full scope of everything, if you were wondering.”

Even when faced with your betrayal, his first priority was protecting your image.

The desire to hold his hand consumed you. It manifested in tears spilling over your lower lashes. It clutched onto your breath. An urge so severe it panicked you, and yet, its inappropriateness kept you frozen. “I never meant to hurt you. I.. F-Fuck.” You stared at the ceiling, gathering your emotions. Imagining a time when you two were inseparable. Laying in the grass, listening to music together.

When you could speak again, you accepted your consequences. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I don’t know where to go from here, but I’m so sorry for hurting you. I’m so sorry.”

Pennsylvania State University Women’s Gymnastics Team. A chance at a better life. Reading the embroidery on your jacket with the same somber expression as last night, he spoke aloud softly, honestly, “You were right to leave.”

Patting down his pockets for some substance to escape the past, and finding nothing, he changed the subject instead. “I imagine you didn’t drive all this way to give me closure, so why are you really here?”

“Well, I guess that’s as good as a segue I’ll get..” Thankful for the switch in mood, you made a few more uncommitted hems and haws, bouncing your leg against his inner thigh. “She, uh..” You waved your hands, searching for the words, and settling on a lilting, “She.. died?”

Rightfully so, he angled his ear at you and clarified, “Your mom died?”

“Like two months ago.” You shrugged, wide-eyed, waiting for his reaction. He made a drinking motion. “Yep, liver failure.”

“Do you want my condolences?” he asked straightfaced.

You pulled a short, but comical, grimace and offered the truth, “Nah. It’s complicated, I guess. I should feel sad she’s dead, but in some ways, I have my life back.. I never told you, but my bank account has always been under her name. She’s had full control over everything, starting way back when I worked at Benny’s on the weekends. Even up til she died, she used my student loan money to go on benders. I specifically got another waitressing job so I could skim some of the tips without her noticing. She’d still berate me if I didn’t earn enough, so it was a tough balance, but it was the quickest job I could think of where she couldn’t access everything.” Eddie reached into his jacket’s inner pocket to take out the envelope you left for him. “No! Keep it, really. It’s for you and Wayne. Or, at the very least, to pay you back for all the weed over the years.”

Hesitating, he accepted you weren’t going to take it, and put it back. “I never would’ve made you pay for weed.”

You snorted. “What a gentleman.”

“You could’ve made more tips by stripping, just so you know.”

“I take back what I said.”

Deflecting to your mugs of coffee after the short fervency of your eye contact became too heated, you continued, “Her death has been a real bitch to deal with. Not in a sad way. Just, God, it doesn’t quit. One thing after another. I didn’t expect to have literally nothing in my bank account, and do you know how expensive dying is, even after the medical bills? Not only did I have to put together some stupid funeral arrangement for this bitch, I had to do shit like terminate the lease on her apartment. And you wouldn’t believe how bad this woman trashed it. Had to hire help to clean it out, and now I’ve come to find out she’s still paying for shit like the lot in Forest Hills.” You rolled your eyes to the high heavens. “Who fucking knows why. Probably just to waste my money. Anyway, that’s why I’m still here. I’m going through the process of having everything transferred in my name and having them demolish that fucking trailer–which reminds me I need to schedule a dumpster for that because the contractor won’t supply one. Oh! And as a bonus ‘fuck you’ because Hawkins is ass-backwards and hates me, they won’t accept anything by fax. I have to go to court and sign shit in person, so I’ll be back here again in 30 to 45 business days to finish the permits for the aforementioned construction, praying my car makes the drive, and then I’ll be free.”

Eddie nodded patiently, eyebrows raised, giving you the grace to vent to him as he finished his coffee. “It’s not even my life and you make me want a cigarette.”

You laughed, hard, and fuck, did it feel good to laugh again. To reap the reward of his shy smile. His leg resting against yours. His fingers cupped around his mug in the center of the table, where yours were too, doing the same thing. Tapping your mug for the sole purpose of discovering the delicate nature of his knuckles being softer than yours with each beat.

He sat forward, sliding your knee along his inner thigh. “You sure you don’t want your tips back to help pay for all this?”

Quick to respond, you inquired, “Would you like to stuff them in my G-string, or would you rather I lay down and you can rain them on me?”

It was his turn to laugh. Bright like his naturally higher voice, which you adored, and a bit cackling too, as if he were a villain. A full laugh coming from the heart. A dangerous thing, you realized when you looked at each other a bit too long.

Once eye contact had been established, there was no coming back. The affection in your gaze roaming his face. The tenderness in his smile, just like old times. But a reserved version. On guard. Already fading at the rhythm of your pounding hearts.

“I feel like I’ve been going on, and on, and on,” you said. “Tell me what’s been up with you–?” Your watch beeped. 11:00 blinked at you. Swiveling around, you examined the lively restaurant brought to life by the lunch rush. “Have we really been here that long?”

Eddie shrugged. “Got somewhere to be?”

“My first appointment of the day. I’ve gotta be downtown in, like, ten minutes.”

Too soon.

Hope ignited the instant neither of you made to leave. The backs of your fingers touching his, metal to flesh as you learned the sensation of his ring’s edges against your skin.

He said, “I’ll walk you to your car.”

You said, “Okay.”

Neither of you moved.

“Wouldn’t want you to be late.”

“No, that would be terrible.”

He puckered his lips to rid himself of his uneven grin, fixing his gaze on your touching hands. You did the same. Existing in the strange dynamic you found yourselves in. A state of unforgiveness, but willing to blot each other’s wounds for the sake of healing and moving on.

Your watch beeped again. “Okay, I really have to go now.”

After paying, you took one step out the door and did a double-take, bewildered beyond belief. “You still drive that thing?”

Eddie joined your side, following what you were pointing at. “Yeah, it’s the same van.”

“I would’ve thought you had crashed it by now.”

He clicked his tongue, offended, “I’ll have you know I’m a perfectly safe driver.”

“You literally drove it into a ditch the day you got it,” you reminded him. He flapped his hand like a mouth to mock you. You shoved his arm. “I meant to ask, how did you know where to find me?”

Coming round to your vehicles, he lingered at your trunk while you unlocked your door. “Gut instinct.” You raised your brows, asking him to elaborate, and he spun his keys around his finger, dragging his feet on the walk to his van parked next to you. “I just knew.”

“All right then, keep your secrets,” you conceded. “Oh yeah!” He paused, hand on the headrest, about to climb in. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Turning to regard you as if you’d said the bizarrest thing, Eddie’s hair flowed over his shoulders in the wind, a precious pinch of confusion between his brows, and a handsome twist to his mouth.

“You mentioned a boyfriend I could go home to last night, but, alas, I must regretfully inform you I do not have one.” When he remained speechless, you broke. Doubled over with laughter, holding your sides. Giddier than you had any right to be.

Eddie shook his head at you. Then, he thought about it. “You said you’ll be back in 30 to 45 business days?”

“Unfortunately!”

“Okay,” he said, “Okay.”

He was quick to get in his van and shut the door behind him, as were you to start your car and get to your appointment on time, but.. It wasn’t until your third alarm beeped that you realized you had been sitting there, tracing your thumb over your grin, forgetting to drive away.

And it wasn’t until you glanced in your rearview mirror, you saw Eddie was doing the same thing, remembering he wasn’t dreaming.

Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @i-will-duckyou-up @qnsfwthoughts @captainonaboat @eddiemuns0nl0ver @godcreatoreli @harrys-tittie @eg-dr3amer3 @trixyvix88 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

[moss-flesh]

i think something really upsetting about the crisp ratt thing is that you can tell every other voice actor and all the animators and everyone else REALLY REALLY TRIED they WANT this movie to be good. you can tell by the trailer and for them to just snuff it out with the main fucking character is mind boggling. so many people are not going to pay see this movie because doing that would tell the hellish companies that doing what they did is totally okay and its not. i just feel so bad that for the hundreds of people TRYING! and one rich untalented asshole ruins it all.

#mario #mario movie

[pinkfrog66]

Why the fuck is crisp ratt playing Garfield in the Garfield movie

#garfield #baby Garfield is so cute tho #baby garfield #the #the skrunkly #double tap now if you'd skrunkly the when

[kdinjenzen]

hellooo, i sent an ask earlier bitching about crisp rat, and you had a well reasoned reply about supporting animation as a medium, and honestly same. i know im anon, but id be remiss if i didnt also clarify that i do entirely support animation as a medium. i just dont like the crisp rat. my apologies if i came across as hating on animation, it was not my intention in the slightest

Oh fam, you’re fine. And no worries at all.

The animation industry as a whole is just kinda… suffering right now (always has been, tbh) because of how aggressively poorly it has been treated.

And listen, I’m a voice actress. I think Mario should have been played by Charles Martinet and Peach should have been Deanna Mustard or Jen Taylor.

I’m okay with Martinet not playing Mario AND Luigi, honestly, because “yeah it Hollywood, gotta add some celebs here” - but Martinet MADE Mario.

Mustard and Taylor both deserved a shot to be Peach in a big movie.

The rest it’s kinda “yeah okay, I get why they’d cast someone else”

But as a voice actress Crisp Ratt sounds bland, like he’s phoning it in, and just… he sounds like himself.

And that’s not even going into the homophobia or any of the other BS he’s done.

So yeah, it blows. The rest of the cast are gonna carry that movie along with the bomb as fuck animation, and Mister The Crisp is going to be stale moldy white bread.

#kdin #ask me anything #kdin jenzen #kdinjenzen #ama #anonymous #anon

[bridoesotherjunk]

the trailer for the Garfield movie with Crisp Ratt voicing Garfield is so fucking weird when compared to the English dub trailer for The Boy and the Heron

Robert Pattinson sounds completely fucking unrecognizable - if you hadn't told me it was him, I would not have known.

but Pratt? yeah, no, he just sounds like he always fucking does. it's so boring.

#the boy and the heron #garfield #i don't like chris pratt but even without my bias he sounds boring and like he isn't trying

[girlfoxcock]

Ughhhh the mario movie is just gonna suck and it’s gonna be so fucking funny. I genuinely don’t know how they can use crisp ratt effectively. The poster looks cool but it’s clear with the casting choices this is gonna be worse than the last mario bros movie

I don’t know why I care about mario. They already completely ruined halo. It’s Mario’s turn you fuckers

[alethiometry]

Rules: list eight shows for your followers to get to know you better.

Tagged by @aeide!

1. black sails. OBVIOUSLY. it's got everything. drama, intrigue, ocean gays, lying little wet rat twinks, anti-colonialist uprisings, caribbean history, grimy period-appropriate costumes, heartbreak, monologues, toby "saturday chillin don't fuckin @ me i'm chillin" schmitz calling himself daddy. everybody slays absolute cunt. it is THEEEE most perfect show ever created.

2. parks and recreation. rewatching p&r is an interesting experience because it was such a product of obama-era liberal america and the optimism just oozes out of every scene. also we don't like crisp ratt anymore. but it's also so genuinely funny and heartfelt and comforting! this show had a massive impact on my sense of humor, as well as i think framed failure in such a positive light: every character failed drastically at something over the course of the show, but through caring for each other were able to pick themselves back up and never let their shortcomings define them. i first watched it at a point in my life where i really needed that, so it has always stuck with me.

3. leverage. my comfort show to turn to when living in a post-capitalist hellscape that continues to reward billionaires for their moral bankruptcy while shitting on everybody else gets too depressing (so… like every day). is it campy and unrealistic? yes. do i care? no. sometimes you need escapism via direct action, heist hijinks, and extreme displays of bisexuality. also aldis hodge is one of the most beautiful human beings on planet earth.

4. supernatural. yeah yeah it's the hehe destiel meme show. but it was also tons of fun to watch every week, the worldbuilding started out fantastic (and then got progressively more and more insane), i think it's really the epitome of "really cool ideas with mostly lackluster execution". the bloody mary episode remains one of my favorite episodes of tv ever, and the fandom drama just keeps giving! i also met some of my dearest friends through the fandom, so maybe the real destiel love memes were the friends we made along the way.

5. twin peaks. the only show that made me so insane i went and got a tattoo of it. impeccable vibes, the experience of watching s3 and then memeing about it on reddit with everyone else who were all equally confused is an experience that will never be replicated.

6. love island uk. listen. fucking listen. i don't want this show to be listed here any more than any of you do, i'm sure. absolute bottom of the barrel brain rot that consumes my life and brings my workday to a grinding halt (thank you timezones) for the 2 months that each season is running. i absolutely have nothing good to say about love island uk other than it's sometimes really funny, usually unintentionally. but iain stirling's voice and those stupid neon pillows/beanbags and atrocious cursive font and catchphrases have wormed their way into my brain and nothing short of a complete lobotomy can remove it.

7. how to get away with murder. this wouldn't even be on here if saff and i didn't go on an insane binge of all six seasons last fall. but since we did… here we are. michaela pratt is an icon and has never done anything wrong ever in her life and i will die on this hill.

8. cunk on earth. this is probably recency bias speaking but oh my god i adore this show. it is exactly my brand of humor and i have so much respect for all the experts and miss diane morgan herself for making it through those interviews without breaking, because i would be fighting for my fucking life. this is the show that i will henceforth be recommending like a madwoman to all my friends.

honorable mentions: american vandal, derry girls, naruto, south park, dexter, elementary, orphan black.

i'm tagging: @winedark @seance @assassiyun @thatsouthernanthem @potsticker1234 @ciaramedba @doomcountry @thychesters <3

#tag games #cool story charlotte

[ailingwriter]

Y'know what? Fuck it. On principle alone, if they replace Crisp Ratt, I will watch the Mario Movie. If not, I never will.

#mario movie

[killbaned]

the worst thing about watching jurassic park and world back to back is having to go from jeff goldblum and sam neil to fucking crisp ratt.

#also the realization that despite 20 year between movies worlds cgi is not really any better than park's #im still mad they really went 99% cgi dinos instead of doing like anything with puppets like you had one job

[knuckls]

Crisp ratt fucking just uses his normal voice :/ WHY CANT WE GET NORMAL ACTUAL VOICE ACTORS FOR ONCE

[hyenagurl]

might be gathering with some pals on friday to go to yardhouse and then see the goddamn mario movie im gonna get fucked up on expensive hipster beer, jumbo pretzels and poke nachos to tear apart crisp ratts mario