#Who's Harry Crumb
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Who's Harry Crumb? (1989)
#who's harry crumb?#my posts#1980s movies#80s movies#john candy#80s comedy#1980s comedy#comedy movies#screencaps#1980s#80s#joe flaherty#movies#film#annie potts#tim thomerson#who's harry crumb#harry crumb#90s nostalgia#80s nostalgia#90s vibes#80s vibes#nostalgia#VHS#video rental#blockbuster video#video store
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80's Fest Actress of the day: Annie Potts #AnniePotts #ghostbusters #ghostbustersii #prettyinpink #whosharrycrumb #designingwomen #80s #80sfest #durandurantulsas5thannual80sfest
#annie potts#ghostbusters#ghostbusters ii#pretty in pink#who's harry crumb#designing women#80s fest#80s#duran duran tulsa's 5th annual 80s fest
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@bixiebeet @spengnitzed
Who's Harry Crumb? (1989)
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Bad movie I have Who's Harry Crumb ? 1989
#Who's Harry Crumb#John Candy#Jeffrey Jones#Annie Potts#Tim Thomerson#Barry Corbin#Shawnee Smith#Valri Bromfiel#Doug Steckler#Renée Coleman#Wesley Mann#Tamsin Kelsey#Joe Flaherty#Fiona Roeske#Lori O'Byrne#Michele Goodger#Beverley Elliott#P. Lynn Johnson#Peter Yunker#Brenda Crichlow#Garwin Sanford#Tony Dakota#Rob Morton#Marcel Maillard#Lesley Ewen#Manny Perry#Gary Hetherington#Patrick McKenna#Daliah Novak#Eve Smith
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my dear pal @deadbeatescape is finally watching The Giggle tonight and i'm bouncing off the walls with excitement!!!! i absolutely love people experiencing the Toymaker for the first time and i hope it ends in a full-blown fixation 🙈💖 (beautiful awful chaoslord bastard...!!!!)
#oh you thought i was done with the Toymaker brainrot??? NEVER 🙈🙈🙈#other characters may catch my eye but the level of psychic damage this freak has done to my brain is incomparable#we've all been going a little bit crazy noticing the Toymaker's signature laugh apparently buried in Jinkx Monsoon's musical notes#and i am still firmly on the train that the Toymaker's influence is instrumental to the fantastical vibe of the new season#please. just a crumb more of him RTD. even just a shot of his Toybox would be enough-#the toymaker#doctor who#dw#the giggle#neil patrick harris#starleskatalks
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it’s been brought to my attention that maybe it’s not common knowledge that in many of the hpcc casts yolly (yann fredericks + polly chapman) are considered canon so I’m here to fix that
they’re everything to me and if I ever stop posting about them I’ve died
#longtime followers will know how long and obnoxiously I campaigned for this 😭😭😭#worth it for canon yolly!!!!!!!#I am using canon somewhat loosely bc it depends on the cast and the actors but I will also see yolly and if I can’t see it I’ll create it#but for a solid two years at least they were holding hands onstage every night in London#and probably longer in germany tbh#yann and polly#yann fredericks#polly chapman#hpcc#cursed child#harry potter and the cursed child#hp next gen#ccsquad#yolly#also THEYRE BOTH BI#MANY CASTS AGREE ON TAHT TOO#best part about canon bi yolly is that they defy gender#no matter who is playing the characters they hold hands#the day I saw lesbian yolly holding hands for the first time I fully ascended#and gay yolly too that was such a treat#I choose to believe this was my influence bc it lowkey was sorry!!!! at least in the beginning#there’s more btw I just can’t find it bc my photo albums are deeply unorganised#looking at the fucking. CRUMBS!!! of yolly content I have saved from 2018 compared to now though is wild in the very best way 🥹
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A very happy birthday in the afterlife to eternally funny John Candy! Taken from us way too soon!
#john candy#SCTV#splash#summer rental#stripes#the blues brothers#the silent partner#volunteers#armed and dangerous#planes trains and automobiles#uncle buck#who’s Harry Crumb#nothing but trouble#cool runnings#spaceballs#Canadian bacon#wagons East#comedy#legend
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Film: Who's Harry Crumb? (PG-13)
Studio: TriStar Pictures
Year: 1989
Character: Pilot
Actor: Unknown
Director: Paul Flaherty
Screenwriters: Bob Conte & Peter Wortmann
Timestamp: 1:18:42
https://cinematicfbombs.com/
#fbomb#film#cinema#cinematic fbomb#Who's Harry Crumb?#John Candy#pg13 fbomb#movies#movie clip#movie quotes#film quotes
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My quest to watch 80 x 80s movies continues with, 'Who's Harry Crumb?'.
Yes, before there was a Detective Pikachu, there was John Candy as a fun PI. More than one of the gags have not aged well. Still had a few good giggles though. But, deffo not John Candy's finest moment.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
#80s#80s comedy#80s movies#john candy#whos harry crumb#classic movies#movie night#movie review#movies#movie
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Beaky: I am Beaky Buzzard.
Petunia (as salon receptionist): Could you spell that please?
Beaky: I don't think so. Try it with a "B".
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Now showing on my 80's Fest Movie 🎥 marathon...Who's Harry Crumb? (1989) on glorious vintage VHS 📼! #movie #movies #comedy #whosharrycrumb #johncandy #ripjohncandy #ShawneeSmith #AnniePotts #jeffreyjones #TimThomerson #valribromfield #BarryCorbin #wesleymann #lylealzado #vintage #vhs #80s #80sfest #durandurantulsas5thannual80sfest
#movie#movies#comedy#who's harry crumb#john candy#rip john candy#Shawnee Smith#Annie Potts#tim thomerson#barry corbin#Jeffrey Jones#jim belushi#lyle alzado#wesley mann#vintage#VHS#80s fest#80s#duran duran tulsa's 5th annual 80s fest
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Who's Harry Crumb? (1989)
@bixiebeet @spengnitzed
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for @thefreakandthehair and inspired by this. Everyone enjoy some bee keeper!Eddie saving the day so Steve can play some baseball
Eddie picked up beekeeping the way he picked up most things in his life: accidentally and by virtue of following a crumb of serotonin straight down the rabbit hole of obsession. It isn't what he expected to do for a living, and at this point he does have to admit that when it accounted for 91% of his taxable income last year it is what he does for a living, but he likes that he gets to work outside and set his own hours. He likes that the regular customers he has who buy his honey are nice, and likes getting to advise people about things like flavor profiles and what they taste best with, it was the thing he liked best about his position at the dispensary that was now more of a side gig. And then there's his contract with city animal control that gets him called out to parts of the city he didn't even know existed to relocate hives a lot more often than he thought would happen.
It's a good life, and he likes that he's made it himself.
But it's the kind of life that gets him calls from people late at night when trying to finish binging Fallout before the internet can spoil it for him. He has a rule to always answer when Chrissy calls though, he isn't going to miss helping her if it's an emergency.
“I need a favor,” she says before he's even finished answering.
“Anything for you,” he agrees.
“You might regret saying that.”
Chrissy Cunningham turned a full ride scholarship for cheerleading into a business and marketing degree and she turned that into a fancy job with the White Sox that he didn’t fully understand but totally supported. He wore the free cap she gave him, and was endlessly glad that as a white guy he didn’t get gatekept the way girls like Chrissy did, since he couldn’t name a single player on the team.
And it was that endless support that had him in his full gear at the White Sox stadium with his smoker and bee vac.
Chrissy meets him at the front with a harried expression and a warm hug, “I’d say I owe you one but if everything goes right we’ll be totally square before the first inning.”
“What does that mean?” he asks, repeating it louder when all she gives him is an enigmatic smile.
The only answer he truly gets is being shoved into a little green cart that she drives with a frightening speed. She drives them through the stadium through a route he has no hope of remembering on his own until they reach an opening that leads straight out to the field. Eddie always had a dream, as a kid, of being a rockstar, driving out onto the diamond to a sudden and uproarious cheer is the closest he thinks he’s ever come to truly experiencing what it would be like to be famous on stage.
He hams it up of course. Waves his arms to try to get them to cheer louder as Chrissy stears them toward the lifter that he’s going to have to go up to get to the swarm. And they do, the cheers becoming an enthusiastic roar, a sound so loud he thinks he could climb them up to the bees without the lifter.
“Focus will you, you’re on national television right now.” Chrissy says, with a subtle elbow to his side.
“Yeah but how many people are watching a delayed baseball game?”
Never one to just take his smartass comments, he’s sure that Chrissy says something super witty and sarcastic back. Only Eddie made the mistake of turning his head and catching sight of the most glorious ass in the snuggest pair of pinstriped white baseball pants and lost the ability to hear. A second elbow in his side reminds his brain full of metaphorical bees that he’s on television and he doesn’t have his veil on, he isn’t about to get caught drooling on television.
The fattest ass in the stadium turns around and Eddie thinks he’s been stung. He has to be going into anaphylaxis with the way he suddenly can’t catch his breath. The guy in front of him, with a hand on his hip and his eyes trained unwaveringly on Eddie is tongue-swellingly hot. And he just keeps getting closer as Chrissy doesn’t stop driving forward.
“Steve, you’re not supposed to get this close, you're our starting pitcher you can’t get stung.” Chrissy chides.
“I just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to kill the bees.” The guy, Steve, says.
“He’s not.”
“I’m not,” Eddie says, shaking his head as fast as he can, like that will make things more convincing for the hot baseball guy. But he’s got an eyebrow raised giving Eddie an up and down like he still doesn’t believe him.
“Look,” he pulls out his equipment so Steve can see. “I’ll smoke them with this, that’ll make them calm so they don’t freak out when I vacuum them up with this.”
“And running them through a vacuum isn’t going to kill them?”
“It’s a gentle suck,” he says, immediately filled with a burning mortification. “It’s just enough to move them into the tank where I can relocate them.”
Hot baseball Steve has his big brown eyes open even wider, there’s a twitch at his mouth like he’s about to say something else and Eddie actually can’t have that. “Chris can we get me strapped into this thing, we want to get this big ballgame going right?”
Steve takes a couple steps back, hands raised up in a placating gesture. Whether it’s for him or for Chrissy because he didn’t listen, Eddie’s too busy putting a neon yellow safety buckle on to think about it.
He takes his time, this is basically free marketing so he’s not about to rush through or do a half-assed job. But in just a few minutes he has a vac full of bees and the game is ready to be played. The lifter gently lowers Eddie back to the ground with another round of cheers. He unclips from the safety harness and takes a shallow bow for the crowd.
Then Steve is jogging over, Eddie stands up straighter than he ever has in his life. Nervous for what is about to happen.
“You saved the game, man!” Steve has the nicest smile that Eddie has ever seen, wide and toothy. He is but a man and thus falls a little bit in love immediately.
“It was nothing, really, just part of the job, y’know.”
“Well, here’s something you probably haven’t done on the job. You have to throw the first pitch.”
“No, no, I absolutely will not be doing that.”
It’s the wrong thing to say, a mischief lights up in Steve’s eyes. He jerks his chin up at Chrissy who says something Eddie is too far away to hear into a walkie talkie. He thinks he has a guess though when the loudspeaker begins to drawl, “Laaadies and Gentlemen, our game is about to begin. Tonight’s first pitch will be thrown by our bee rescuer, Eddie Munson!”
The crowd begins to scream again, but the sound is almost like the hive's steady drone when Steve leans close enough to whisper, “It’s just ceremonial, all you’ve got to do is throw it. I’ll even play catcher for you.” And Eddie’s helpless to do anything but nod.
There’s actually a lot that has to happen before they’re ready for him to throw his sad attempt at a pitch. But that gives him the time to settle his equipment out of the way and scream at Chrissy. Still it’s sooner than he’d like before she’s shuffling him over to a big mound of dirt in the center of everything. She pushes his hat and veil back and it feels a little proud father of the bride right until she pats him on the top of his head and whispers, “Don’t fuck it up, nerd.”
His palms are sweaty, they feel too slick to get a good grip on the small, white ball. He thinks he might throw up, only across from him Steve is there. A glove on one hand he sends Eddie an encouraging little finger wave with the other.
He can do this.
He takes a deep breath and throws.
It’s awful. Too high and a little off center, but Steve snags it in that large, ungloved palm and the crowd cheers again like he’s done something fantastic. He’s starting to think they’re just happy to be here.
He starts to walk off the field, toward Chrissy where he knows he’s safe. But he can’t help noticing that Steve is jogging his way too; the ball that Eddie just threw in one hand, a sharpie in the other, his glove tucked tight under his arm. “Eddie, hey, you gotta take this with you, dude.”
Steve lobs it at him in a soft underhand, and Eddie still fumbles the catch, “Thanks, man, but really, I don’t-” the rest of his response dies in his mouth when he realizes just what Steve has scribbled across the ball.
“Give me a call if you’re interested,” Steve says, walking backward toward the mound Eddie just left, “I can show you my gentle suck.” He laughs at his own shitty pickup line, which is somehow more attractive than his whole hot jock thing.
Eddie thinks he must be blushing up to his hairline by the time he makes it back to Chrissy and his things. She looks too smug for it to be any other way. “Told you we’d be even before the end of the night.”
“Chris, if this goes well I might owe you a favor. Now we gotta go, I’ve got bees to relocate.”
#steddie#steddie fic#my fic#baseball player steve harrington#beekeeper eddie munson#platonic hellcheer#i know just enough about baseball to enjoy the occasional game lex so sorry for any egregious inaccuracies#about half of the writing time was me trying to figure out how bees are relocated
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"Alright, who did it? Which one of you chocolate bandits ate all the chocolate chip cookies I made for the Auradon charity bake sale tomorrow?" Y/N asked, hair hot and high with blue flames.
Ben, Harry, and Gil tried to look innocent as they had chocolate and crumbs all over their faces as they tried to stammer out excuses, but it was kind of hard to do with their mouths full.
Y/N sighed. "Enough! You three are going to help me bake a new batch tonight, and you're going to hand out free milk tomorrow as punishment."
They watched him walk away as they swallowed the remaining cookies in their mouths. "Dudes, Y/N's so pissed." Gil said.
"I told you we were going to get caught, Harry." Ben glared at the son of Captain Hook.
Harry smiled. "Ah know. It's why ah suggested it."
#x male reader#male reader insert#male x male#descendants#disney descendants#harry hook#gil descendants#ben florian#dylan playfair#thomas doherty#mitchell hope
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I think one thing the dramione fandom is really missing out on is Ron and Draco friendship. Like yeah I get it, Ron is easy to make into an antagonist but basically every fanfic I've read that made them friends - even reluctantly - was toptier.
Imagine the possibilities
They learn that arguing outright upsets their mutual friends, so they dip into obscure pureblood customs to insult eachother in the seemingly kindness way possible.
Like Ron gets dragged to dinner at the manor and makes sure to leave his plate without a single crumb because it's impolite to imply your host didn't provide enough food to satisfy you.
Draco brings flowers as a housewarming gift for Ron and his partner, but Harry and Hermione don't understand why Malfoy seems so smug, and why Ron said his thanks through gritted teeth. (The flowers represent distaste)
This becomes a game of who can do the most insulting thing without getting called out by the rest of the group. (Everyone else knew it the moment they started with the flowers but silent glares are easier to handle than mustelid banter)
Theyll never admit it outloud but they're bros and when there's someone they mutually dislike they enjoy throwing their insults at that person together.
When they get super drunk they sing karaoke together and the next day both insist everyone else is crazy cuz that'd never happen.
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Ginniversary Drabble 4
Prompt: O65 - you dont think that was just lemonade in your glass do you?
AO3 or read below:
The volume in the great hall had reached a clamorous level; the buzzing din and the blood pounding in Ginny's ears, mingled until she was sure the noise was going to drown her.
She tried to catch her breath; her Quidditch robes were suddenly too tight, making her efforts pointless. The sea of students surrounding her was nothing more than a blurred, faceless mass.
A touch on her hand, so light she shouldn't have been able to feel at all, brought her surroundings sharply into focus.
“You need to eat,” Harry said quietly.
Wordlessly, Ginny nodded. She kept her eyes on her plate in front of her, refusing to let them wander to the Ravenclaw table at the opposite side of Hufflepuff. The toast Harry had placed in front of her was swimming in butter. It felt dry as cardboard as it protested its journey down her throat.
She reached for her glass, swallowing a mouthful of sugary-sweet lemonade that did nothing to ease the dryness.
“There's no need to be nervous,” Harry said, using the same quiet tone that Hermione was directing at Ron across the table. Words that were only meant for one person. “If you lose, everyone will blame me… Everyone should blame me.”
His words sparked a fire within her that had been dangerously close to dwindling out a moment before. Ginny looked up sharply from her crumb-covered plate. “We're not going to lose!”
“Right,” Harry agreed at once, one corner of his mouth twitching, threatening a smile as his eyes met Ginny's. “So there's nothing to worry about, is there?”
She felt one side of her own mouth tick up. “Who said I was worried?”
Harry's smile bloomed fully, and the sight did more to ease her nerves than any encouraging words would ever be able to. His smiles had been frustratingly infrequent since the incident with Malfoy; every one that Ginny had managed to coax out of him felt like a victory all of its own. She suspected this one was for her benefit.
“The only thing you should be worried about is how you’re going to deal with your horde of admirers once you win the cup for Gryffindor.”
Ginny's laughter escaped her without her permission, as did the words she spoke next, “and will you be among them?”
Harry took a bite of his crumpet in a very obvious attempt to delay answering. His eyes flicked across the table to Ron, who was too busy listening to whatever soft words of encouragement Hermione was whispering to him to pay attention to what Ginny and Harry were doing.
He swallowed the crumpet. “I'll be the Head of the Ginny Weasley Fan Club.”
It was probably indecent to smile as widely as she currently was in the face of the biggest match of her life.
“Well,” she said, now breathless for entirely different reasons. “Given that my win is a foregone conclusion, I hope you're ready to take the responsibilities that come with your new position very seriously.”
Harry shrugged nonchalantly, but his gaze was steady, unwavering where it met Ginny's. “The season will be over; I'll have plenty of spare time to dedicate to it.”
“You don't have to convince me.” She laughed again, despite the way her stomach was twisting itself into knots. “The job is yours, if you want it.”
Their eyes remained fixed on one another. If the students around them had been faceless to her before, it was like there was no one there at all anymore; like they were the only two people left in the world.
“I'm just letting you know,” Harry said quietly, no longer smiling. “In case anyone else was interested in the position.”
Ginny's voice dropped to barely a whisper. “No one else is being considered.”
A beat of silence stretched on for what could have been eternity for all she knew. Harry didn't look away. She wasn't sure she would be capable of doing so even if she'd wanted to. Whatever this thing was that had been building between them was teetering dangerously close to a precipice and she was about to fall–
“Ginny!”
Dean's voice broke the spell that had fallen over them with jarring abruptness. Harry blinked, and then his attention turned to the half-eaten crumpet on his plate.
Resisting the urge to scream in frustration, Ginny turned in the direction her name had been called from.
“Are you ready to go down?” Dean asked.
Ginny didn't need to turn back to Harry to know he'd tensed beside her.
“You go ahead,” Ginny said smoothly. “I’ve still got some toast left.”
“You can eat on the way,” Harry said quickly. “You should probably take the others down before they get too deep in their own heads.”
She hesitated, wanting to protest the suggestion of leaving Harry up here, alone, while the rest of them went down to the pitch, yet knowing his logic was sound. Ginny's eye met Katie's further down the table, a short nod was enough to instruct her to gather the rest of the team and begin ushering them out of the hall.
Hermione's hand wrapped gently around Ron's forearm, guiding him from the table. Harry stood, and Ginny followed him, wishing she could recapture the moment they’d been so forcefully removed from.
“You've successfully boosted my confidence,” she said as they made their way towards the door. “Consider your Captain duties fulfilled.”
“That wasn't me,” Harry said with a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. “You don't think that was just lemonade in your glass, do you?”
“That little trick won't work twice,” Ginny assured him, unable to summon her own smile now their moment of separation was here.
It didn't matter, she promised herself, forcing a grin despite her mouth's reluctance, the match – and Harry's detention – would be over soon, and once she had the cup, everything would fall into place.
#hinny#harry x ginny#ginniversary bingo#guys i wrote this after too much wine#if its bad just lie to me#I'll discover the truth myself in the morning#drabble
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