unfortunately i do find this funny
When you're a famous rock star but you also live in Finland
When you're the president but you also live in Finland.
no because where the fuck did mike get the poster. like this was before the days of ordering posters online and having them shipped to your house and then offering your parents to go get the mail so they wouldnt see you bought something. mike wheeler had to go to a store to buy it. and he doesnt have a job, so how did he pay for it? his allowance maybe? but who drove him to the store to get it? you really think he went with his mom? was it maybe nancy? who would be able to clock him faster? were they with him in the check out? what fucking store sold this even? what did the cashier say when they saw it? i have so many questions it's unreal
if anyone else was wondering like i was, the reason people sometimes talk to wilhelm like “the crown prince will come with us” “the crown prince can do x” it’s bc it’s technically impolite to directly address royals when talking to them so you’re just supposed to use third person like that
I feel like in our rememberings of mad men we always imagine Don either at work or like banging chicks in the city or driving around Oklahoma avoiding his responsibilities which is why it's so weird to reflect on just how much time he actually does spend at home. Both Betty and Megan expect him to be home every night and he usually does get there on time. He was married to Betty for years building a normal suburban life before the show even starts. He has a big office filled with leather bound books. A shed full of tools
“Is that a hickey?” Comes out of Steve’s mouth without permission. But there it is, bright purple and red against the slope of her neck. She’s been walking kind of funny this morning, too. He’d assumed her period came early, but… “Rob, did you—“
Eddie fumbles the coffee mug he was pulling down. Chrissy freezes, face turning white with fear. Robin whips around, face bright red, and slaps a hand over her neck.
“Bathroom!” She yelps. “Bathroom now!”
“Wait,” Eddie says, setting the mug down with trembling hands. “It was me. Sorry, man.”
Steve stares at him, unimpressed. Why the fuck would he lie about—
He looks at Chrissy again, who takes a nervous step back, and it clicks.
“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “You. You gave Robin a hickey. Had totally awesome sex that she didn’t even tell me about.” He directs that last bit at Robin pointedly. He told her almost immediately when he lost his guy-ginity. Traitor. “Yep. Sure. Got it.”
Eddie blinks, confused. Robin buries her face in her hands.
“Oh my god, calm down,” she groans. “That’s not going to work. Steve’s cool.”
“Cool?” Chrissy asks, still looking ready to bolt.
“Super cool,” he assures her. “The coolest. So incredibly cool, even if my best friend didn’t even tell me when she lost her virginity.”
“Steve!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “But I am going to need details, Buckley. We can go over what worked, and what needs more oomph.”
“Oh my god, can we talk about this anywhere else,” Robin groans, at the same time Eddie asks, “What, so you can get off on it later?”
“What,” Steve says.
“You think two girls are hot, is that it?” He’s got a sneer on his face now, but Steve’s more observant than Dustin gives him credit for. Even if he wasn’t, it’d be hard to miss how hard his hands are shaking, the nervous tilt to his mouth.
“Ew.” Steve’s face screws up. “Dude, no. It’s Robin.”
“Hey, fuck you,” Robin breaks in, from where she’s started comforting Chrissy. “You thought I was hot for at least a summer.”
His mouth drops open in betrayal. “We agreed to never talk about that again!”
“Can’t help being sexy,” she coons. Chrissy giggles wetly. “You wanna get married, Harrington? Have my babies? Stay home and raise six little nuggets while I bring home the bread?”
“I hate you,” he informs her. “Hate you so much. We’ll have a nice, heterosexual wedding and share a sad, heterosexual kiss, and you’ll carry me over the threshold of our nice, heterosexual house, and we’ll have boring, heterosexual sex that gives us nice, heterosexual babies, because we are so heterosexual and happy in our suburburban house in our nice little heterosexual town.”
He’s honestly kind of proud of himself for saying heterosexual so many times. Usually he fumbles words with that many syllables, especially after that many times in a row.
Chrissy is outright laughing, now, endearing little snorts making their way between giggles. Eddie is looking between them like they’re a puzzle he can’t piece together. Robin grins.
“I’ll cuck you with the secretary.”
“Not if I cuck you first. You’ll be away all day in that office of yours, and I need someone big and strong to carry all the new furniture I ordered.”
“I knew it! I knew Timmy wasn’t mine!”
“Oh, but I couldn’t help myself,” he swoons. “Mark was just so sweet, with his bulging biceps and hand flexes, all hot and sweaty from helping poor little me while you were away! You know I’m weak to curly hair and brown eyes, Rob, how’s a man supposed to resist?”
“Fag,” she says, not without affection.
“Dyke,” he shoots back.
“Cocksucker.”
“Carpet—“
“Okay,” Eddie breaks in, clapping his hands. He and Robin both startle, and so does Chrissy from where she’s been watching them like a particularly interesting tennis match. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Robin lost her virginity and didn’t even tell me,” Steve says immediately, like he’s tattling to the principal.
“Steve doesn’t seem to understand the concept of waiting,” Robin retorts.
“I told you when I had gay sex,” he whines, and Eddie chokes. “I hate you. See if I ever give you tips again.”
“Oh, is that what you meant?” Chrissy asks. “Please don’t stop. They were good tips.”
Robin flushes all the way down to her toes.
“You like boys?” Eddie wheezes.
“Oh,” Steve blinks. “Yeah? I thought you knew.”
“You thought I—how would I know?”
The fuck is that supposed to mean? Steve’s been flirting with him for months!
“Robin always says we can sense each other! You sensed her.”
“You told him?” Eddie’s mouth drops open, and Robin looks sheepish.
“She didn’t have to,” Steve snarks. “You’re flagging in Hawkins, man. Was I supposed to miss it?”
“You know what flagging is?”
“Again, in case you missed it, I fuck men.”
“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. “Fuck! Christ, I can’t believe this. You’re, like, the epitome of heterosexual. I spent half of high school having to hear about how much pussy you were getting. Why are you not straight?”
“Wow, Eddie,” he deadpans. “Are you saying just because I like men and woman, I’m not queer enough? That’s kind of homophobic of you, man.”
“Yeah, Eddie, wow,” Robin says. “I thought you were better than this.”
“Fuck off,” Eddie says. “I feel like I need to lie down. My entire worldview just shattered.”
“I have a couch?” Chrissy offers shyly. “Or a bedroom, if you need a minute away.” Fuck, Steve kind of adores her. Especially since she’s apparently vicious n bed, if the five other hickies he counts just from Robin bending down a little to whisper in her ear are any indication. Good for her.
“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Robin says, with a glint in her eye that means he’s either going to love or hate what comes next. “If it helps, Steve’s never fucked a man in his life.”
Eddie’s brow furrows, looking between the two of them. “So…you’re just making fun of me?”
He looks a little angry now, and Steve can’t make heads or tails of this conversation because, “What the hell, Rob, yes I have—“
“Oh, so suddenly you’re the one doing the fucking?”
“Stop making fun of me for taking it!”
Eddie lets out an honest to god moan that he immediately slaps his hand over his mouth to cover up. “Right,” he says fervently. “Okay. I need to lie down, like, for real.”
They watch him stride down the hall, so fast he’s almost running, and slam the door closed behind him.
“I could totally top,” he mutters to Robin as something that sounds vaguely like muffled screaming echoes down the hall. “I top girls all the time. It’s not my fault prostates are a gift from God.”
“Uh, you top because all the girls you fuck are from small town Indiana. If one of them brought out the strap you’d drop to your knees so fast—“
“That’s—I like topping!”
“Your favorite position is cowgirl. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
“I will show Chrissy your baby pictures,” he hisses. Robin makes a face at him. Chrissy nods excitedly from where she’s still tucked under Robin’s arm.
“Oh what’s that?” Robin practically shouts. “You like being pressed against walls and ravished? You want someone to tie you up and have their filthy way with you? Is that what you said, Steve?”
Another noise from the bedroom. He narrows his eyes at her. “What are you doing?”
“Helping,” she says sweetly. “You’re both hopeless.”
“I told you he’s shy!”
“Eddie?” Chrissy asks. “Shy?”
“Yeah, okay, I was confused too, but I figured it was the romance! He told me he hasn’t actually been in a relationship before, I assumed he was nervous to take that step.”
“Yeah, but dingus,” Robin says sweetly. “You’re missing a puzzle piece here. He thought you were straight. He thought he was flirting with his straight best friend he didn’t have a chance in hell with, and then he finds out that said best friend likes taking it up the ass and men with brown eyes.”
“Oh,” Steve says, realization dawning. “Oh, fuck. What if he doesn’t like me like that?”
Robin smacks the back of his head. “Why are you stupid?”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Chrissy says. “Like, really don’t have to worry about that.”
“I’m not coming over tonight,” Robin says. “I’m gonna stay with Chrissy again. Er…if that’s okay?”
“That sounds amazing.” Chrissy beams, and Robin turns red again.
“Yeah, I’m going to stay with Chrissy again tonight. You are going to invite Eddie to stay the night when he gets done with his little crisis, and then we’re getting lunch at the diner tomorrow and you can tell me about it before our shift.”
“Right,” Steve says. “Right, I can do this. I’ve invited guys over before, how hard can it be? It’s just Eddie. But that was hotel rooms, not my house and my bedroom with my shitty wallpaper. And it’s Eddie. Fuck, what if I’m shit at it? Robin, what if I’m actually bad at sex and everyone who’s ever said I was good was lying because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Oh my god, I’m totally bad at sex.”
“Woah, dingus, slow down. I think we took the mind meld too far, you’re turning into me.”
“If it helps, I don’t think you’re bad at sex,” Chrissy says. Steve and Robin look at her, and she flushes. “Because of the tips! Not because—I’ve never slept with you, but some of my friends did, and I got three orgasms out of last night, so…”
“Oh thank God,” he breathes. “I was worried for a minute.” Then he raises an eyebrow at Robin, and holds out his hand for a high five. She slaps it, begrudgingly proud of herself, and then takes the hand to pull him into a headlock that’s honestly more of a hug than anything.
“You’re fine,” she whispers in his ear. “You’re great at sex, as you keep telling me. What’s more, you’re funny, charming, handsome, brave, caring—“
“Aww, Robin, are you getting sappy on me?”
“Plus Eddie literally moaned in front of you when he found out you bottomed. I really don’t think there’s a way to fuck that up.”
Steve grins. “He did do that. I’m going to make so much fun of him later.”
“So,” Eddie says with a smirk, “men with brown eyes?”
“Hey man, don’t look at me. Blame Jonathan.”
Now Eddie looks stunned, mouth dropping open. “Byers?” He says, sounding betrayed. “You have a crush on Byers of all people?”
Steve feels offended on Jonathan’s behalf. “What’s that supposed to mean? Jonathan’s a good guy!”
“I guess.”
“What do you mean you guess? He’s sweet, passionate, good with kids, nice eyes. Can pack a punch. I mean, what’s not to like?”
“Uh, didn’t he steal your girlfriend?”
He waves that off. “That was, like, years ago, man. We’re cool now.”
“Right, okay,” Eddie mutters. “Well have fun with Byers, I guess.”
It clicks. “Oh,” he says. “Oooh. You’re jealous.”
Eddie splutters. “Jealous? I’m not—I don’t—you’re jealous!”
“Oh, am I?”
“Yes,” Eddie says resolutely, not looking at him.
“Right,” Steve agrees. “Well, if I am jealous, maybe I should know that I got over Jonathan years ago, and have since moved on to brighter, hopefully more attainable pastures than my ex’s ex.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“A different man with brown eyes?” He suggests. “Who is also good with kids, and passionate, and…” he trails off, suddenly realizing all those times Robin made fun of him might not be based on nothing. “Oh my god, I have a type. Shit, I have to tell Robin she was right.”
“I figured that was a common occurrence.”
“Shut up. Where was I going with this? I had a point.”
“You were telling me how awesome I am?”
“Oh, suddenly it’s you we’re talking about?”
“I mean,” suddenly Eddie looks shy, and Steve can’t help but think even with the change in context he might have been right when he told Robin Eddie was nervous about being in a real, romantic relationship, “isn’t it?”
He feels himself smile, slow and wide and probably more revealing than he means it to be. “Yeah,” he says, in a tone he knows Robin would call soppy, “it is.”
this is like 100% petty all things considered but i just can’t wait until some of u learn that it is absolutely normal for people of any age to refer to their dads as “daddy” in many parts of the south like it isn’t a red flag there. 60 year old women in my family still refer to their dads as “daddy.” and btw i think anyone should be allowed to call their own fathers whatever they want without someone either making it nasty or being accusatory like don’t you get tired of making ppl uncomfortable for no reason
Me: *Removes my cat from my lap to do something else.*
My cat: Father is…evil? Father is unyielding? Father is incapable of love? I am running away. I am packing my little rucksack and going out to explore the world as a lone vagabond. I can no longer thrive in this household.
If Arya didn’t know how to read and write, it would be a cause for concern. If the only barrier to her learning to write was not wanting to accept feedback and running out of the room every time someone gave her feedback on her alphabet, even the most ardent fan girl would concede that she was simply spoilt.
Guess what? It’s a preindustrial society, and sewing is as important as reading, and, no, marrying a wealthy guy will not save any woman from that.
Arya is literally refusing to learn a basic life skill and the only argument that her stans can come up with is that she’s basically too precious and special to have to learn.
That’s pathetic.
Reasons I like subtitles:
1. I can see how people’s names and the cities and the countries are spelled.
2. I don’t miss any words, so everything they say makes sense.
3. I get to know what background noises and conversations are.
4. The descriptions of the noises people make are freaking awesome. Ex: splutter, grunt, chuckles.
5. I can see who says what.
6. I don’t have to have the volume super loud so I can hear the dialogue, and I don’t blow my eardrums out because the ambient noises and music is SO FREAKING LOUD.
I freaking love subtitles.