MADONNA WHORE COMPLEX ROBB STARK LET ME COOK…
The whole idea of the Madonna-Whore complex is that a woman can either be put on a saintly pedestal for purity or be debased and degreased for their sexuality with no room for the idea that they are complex humans. Why does this fit Robb. He’s not a teenage boy he’s not somebody’s son he’s not a kid making human mistakes he isn’t allowed any of that. He’s a king he’s the stuff of stories he’s an inspiration to his men. Or he’s fool for breaking his vow he will pay for his mistakes with his life everything is over because he slept with the wrong girl. There is no room for nuance Robb is either the Madonna on the pedestal or the fallen Whore paying for his mistakes. He is a king facing the plight of a woman
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Steve Harrington sucks at kissing.
It’s something everyone in school knows. The King can’t kiss to save his life. He’s motionless, emotionless. It’s like kissing a brick wall.
And yes, he makes up for it in other ways, ways that let all the girls he’s with get past the weird kissing thing. Nancy’s not big on PDA anyway, so minimum kissing is fine with her.
The rumors spread, though. Girls talk to their friends about how they try to “teach” him to kiss, giving him gentle instructions murmured against his lips, to no avail. The movements are flat, jerky, like he’s being puppeted around on marionette strings.
He just can’t do it.
Robin teases him about it exactly once, early on in their Scoops Ahoy careers. But she sees how sad it makes him, sees how he twists the strand of hair by his ear around and around his finger (a nervous habit of his that she learns about much later), and resolves to never talk about it again. If only to get him to stop looking like she dropkicked his puppy into an active volcano.
When Steve starts dating Eddie, they don’t kiss much. Eddie’s not experienced, and he’s also not stupid. He heard the rumors in high school. The last thing he wants is for Steve to be forced into doing something he doesn’t want to do. And it’s really okay. Steve’s good with his hands (like, obscenely good), and he treats Eddie like a person, not a prize or a target. Bar’s low, but Steve’s still hurtling over it.
So it’s about half a month into their relationship when they kiss for the first time.
Eddie graduates, and Steve just gets so excited he yanks Eddie down an empty corridor in the school, picks him up by the waist and spins him around like a Disney princess.
And then he kisses him.
Eddie’s long hair is falling like a curtain around their faces, blocking out the whole world until it’s just them. Steve’s lips are warm, slotted perfectly against Eddie’s own, and his hands are braced around Eddie’s waist. Eddie feels his diploma fall from his hands, and he weaves his hand into Steve’s hair and tilts his head up, kissing him deeper.
Steve breaks away just then. Eddie chases Steve’s mouth with his own on instinct.
“Sorry,” Steve says breathlessly.
“What the hell are you sorry for?” Eddie demands in a harsh whisper. “I thought you were bad at kissing!”
“I am!” Steve says. “I got excited, sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“Why not?” Eddie says indignantly. “That was by far the best kiss I have ever had. Did you not like it?”
Steve looks like he’s running on autopilot. “No, it was amazing, I just… everyone says I’m bad at kissing. I didn’t want to make you kiss me.”
Eddie drags him close, slams him against the wall like he did in the boathouse, except this time with significantly more horny undertones. “You should keep that reputation.” Eddie says in a low tone. “I think no one else, but me, gets to know how good of a kisser you are.”
“Works for me,” Steve says, breath ghosting over Eddie’s lips, and that’s all the invitation Eddie needs to dive back in.
They end up scarring Robin when she comes looking for them, but that’s alright.
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