#the experience he has is probably that bad

[hungharrington]

i feel it coming, babe

technically the sequel to a little less conversation this is yet another piece for girlies (gn) with bad sex experiences <3 remember sometimes it takes more than once to get it right honeys :D 12k words, fem!reader, MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

Okay so, you’ll admit, you might be beginning to get it. 

A smidge. A pinch. 

It’s just— well, how are you not supposed to understand it? How can you not get the thrill and fervour over sex when it’s with Steve and he looks like that. All golden tan skin and hazel eyes that look at you like he might eat you whole and— and he treats you like… 

Like there was never anything wrong with you.

Even after that balmy afternoon spent in his sheets, with his mouth between your thighs, pulling noises out of you that you’d never even heard before, he’s been so perfectly so. Not pushy, yet still that lingering hunger you can see simmering beneath his skin, hidden in the flex of his fingers. 

Part of you almost worries, a little niggle burrowed in the back of your mind, that it was all a fluke.

That nothing had really changed all that much between you— that the next time things start getting heated, the chemistry won’t be there. Or it’ll be weird and off, or you will be, and really, you were probably lucky to have that first time with Steve so good but you can’t expect that again. 

But then… there is one difference at least, to combat all your swarming thoughts a fluke. The kisses. 

When you think of Steve Harrington and his playboy past, you can’t say, of the words tossed around in the high school corridor, that clingy is something that comes to mind. Not that he had been described as anything other than charming… but you don’t mind pleasant surprise of coming to learn this about Steve. 

It means kisses all the time. 

On your hands, scattered across your knuckles, when he’s dropping you home from a date. Kisses pressed to your hair and forehead, when he’s scooching past you, when he’s saying hello and his hands are busy, when you sit between his legs on the sofa. 

He kisses your shoulders, up along the curve of your neck just to see if it’ll still make you laugh a bit when he finds that ticklish spot beneath your ear. Adores sweeping back your hair to plant a kiss against your skin with the sweetest little ‘mwah!’ so quiet you don’t think you’re meant to hear it. 

And your lips… you don’t think they’ve ever been so kiss-bitten in your life.

One night with Steve can leave them blooming with colour, all the blood beneath them rushing with pleasure as he kisses your mouth soft — sometimes hard, sometimes sweet, always maddeningly. 

He greets you with a kiss always, one hand curled gently around your chin to tilt it up perfectly. And always after, a grin spreads across his face, brown eyes crinkling and pink lips barely restrained his joy. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He’ll always says, or some variation.

Which, yeah, that’s new too. Sweetheart. You haven’t quite figured out how to not melt to a gloopy gooey mess when he says it just yet. It’s a damn good thing that your boyfriend is a gentleman and he politely doesn’t comment when you fluster, only gets the smallest hint of a smirk. 

For all your past worries about not kissing him for fear of leading him on, you hadn’t realise quite how much you were depriving yourself of affection. Steve’s certainly turning you greedy— and he’s all too happy to sate your appetite for it. 

Today, it’s drizzly. The colour of the sky is a bright ashen grey, enough to warrant a headache and inspire a day inside. In the distance, you can see the thunder clouds rolling in and bringing a blanket of shadow with them. 

They reach overhead much quicker than you’re expecting and you’re barely a block out from Steve's house before the rain starts coming down. 

Try as you might, raincoat tucked tight around you, you’re still a bit drenched by the time you make it to Steve’s doorstep. One freezing finger presses the door bell. A chime sounds inside. 

You rub your hands together to try warm them as you wait, cringing at the whisk of wind that twirls your hair up and about. Your hands shoot up and you nervously flatten the wild strands back down— right as Steve opens the door.

He’s got a towel around his neck, one hand scrubbing it into his wet hair. Judging from his ruffled t-shirt — put on in a rush and exposing his tummy — he’s just got out the shower. He looks surprised but happy to see you.

“Sweetheart, hi-hoooooly shit,” He sticks his head out the door, eyes wide as he takes in the weather. His hair flicks as he turns back to you. “Did you walk the whole way from your house? In the rain?” 

Your shoulders form a meek shrug. Before you can speak, his hands are on your shoulders, tugging you inside, across the doorway. He kicks it shut behind you. 

“Christ, honey, what’d you do that for?” His hands fret a little bit, rubbing at your shoulders. He gently picks a piece of hair that’s stuck to your cheek, placing it behind your ear. 

“I mean,” You start, a little confused. Your hands tighten on your overnight bag, wringing the handle tightly. He knew you were coming over, right? “I thought we— on the phone, we made a plan?” 

Steve breathes a soft laugh. “Yeah, we’ve got plans. But I would’ve come got you instead of making you walk through the rain. C’mon, what  kind of boyfriend do you think I am?” 

His use of the word boyfriend still makes you glow. You smile, nope, you grin all cheesy — and it doesn’t help at all when Steve’s hands trail down your jacket to hold your own. He wiggles the handles of your bag out from your frozen fingers and drops it behind him gently. His hands dart back to cover yours.

“Dear god, I think you’re about two minutes from losing a finger.” His eyebrows have scrunched together in worry. He brings your hands up to his face, cupped in his own, and blows hot air on them. It tickles but you can’t stop smiling. 

He pulls them back, rubbing his thumbs over your icy fingers and peers down at them. Your heart coos at his concern. 

“What’s the verdict doctor?” You jest, making your voice all breathy and dramatic. “Am I gonna make it?” 

Steve frowns harder at your hands, his face serious when he tilts it back up to face you. “I’m afraid we’re gonna have to amputate.” 

You gasp dramatically. 

Steve grins. He runs over your hands once more, one of his fingers creeping up your wrist, trying to find a ticklish spot. You squeal a little, trying to pull back but he holds your hands firm in his own. He continues his serious voice. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but it’s your whole arm. We’re gonna have to chop it right off.” 

His fingers are half way up your sleeve, making it bunch up and you’re laughing so much it’s warming you up much faster than him blowing on your hands. You push his hand away playfully and Steve relents, putting his hands up in surrender. 

“Okay, okay, you got me.” He grins. “I’m not a real doctor.”

You laugh again, reaching up to tuck back your hair that’s fallen forward in your squirming. “Uh huh, a real doofus is what you are.” 

Steve rolls his eyes endearingly, his hands reaching out to snag your waist this time. He tugs you closer. Your feet stumble and when you press against his chest, you’re delighted to find he’s very, very warm. You're definitely soaking his shirt a bit with your coat but if Steve cares, he doesn't say.

“Just realised I didn’t properly say hello,” He murmurs, a little quieter than before. 

And when one of his hands moves up and curls beneath your jaw, holding your chin gently, you know what’s coming. If you weren’t already holding your breath in anticipation, he probably would’ve stolen it with his kiss.

His plush lips are soft and with a loving little hum, he kisses you.

All the lights around you look a little dewey and heart-shaped when Steve pulls back — though it may be just your own lovey-dovey eyes. You sigh without meaning to, all honeyed and sweet, and Steve softens immeasurably at the sound. 

“Okay,” He shifts his hands back down to your hands, rubbing them lightly. “I’m not kidding, even your lips feel frozen. D’ya wanna take a quick shower just to warm up?” 

Something about you flushes at his suggestion— a runaway thought about getting in his shower, it getting steamier and steamier, especially with Steve slipping in to join you halfway. You clear your throat to push away the thought and focus. 

Your hair is wetter than you’d expected, sticking to your neck in cold tendrils. A shiver zips down your spine. All your scandalous thoughts aside, it sounds like a pretty good idea. 

“Yeah,” you nod gingerly. “Yeah, okay, it wouldn’t mind the warm up.” 

Steve steps back, bending down to scoop up your bag deftly. He holds it for you as you unbutton your coat as quick as you can with your frozen fingers, shivering in relief as you shed the drenched layer. Droplets of rain spray in the rustle. Your coat finds a home on a peg beside the door.

It’s comforting how easy it is to follow Steve up the stairs, drinking in his cosy attire from behind— gone are his usual tight fitting jeans. Instead, he’s donned what you guess is his pyjamas; a plain ringer tee and red, plaid, and long flannelette pants. His feet are warmed by fluffy socks that have reindeer prancing about the fabric. A flash of his tan ankle makes you stumble for a moment.

Steve trades your overnight bag, with a smile and a promise to keep it safe, for a pillowy white towel, soft as ever. He leads you into the bathroom off his bedroom, depositing your bag on his bed along the way. 

His fingers find the switch for the heated towel rail and while you fold the towel over it neatly, heart humming in content at being taken care of, Steve starts the shower. He sticks one hand in, holding it under the spray and grimacing at the cold— until the chill slips away beneath the steamy hot water. 

“Alright,” Steve says, pulling his hand back. He gives it a little shake, droplets splattering on the tiles. “All ready for my best girl.“ 

He gives a cheesy and charismatic smile as he wipes his hand dry and if you were brave enough, you might give him a little thank you kiss for it. You aren’t just yet — but when he moves to slip by you, you halt him with a soft hand on his torso. 

“Thank you.” you say, quieter than you intend. You push on the balls of your feet and plant a quick peck onto his cheek. 

Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch. Steve looks like he melts a bit, lashes fluttering as he sucks in a sharp inhale. Turns out neither of you are getting any closer to getting used to the affection. It’s sweet to know it goes both ways. 

“I’m gonna—“ Steve breathes, his hand drifting up, his index finger pointed out to the door. “I’ll be nearby if you need anything. Or if you fall. Just like, uh, yell- or scream. Or— you know what, you’ve taken a shower before.” 

He stumbles out towards the exit, pulling two awkward thumbs-up over his shoulders. The door swings shut behind him, closing with a quiet click. 

Your clothes pool to the ground, a trail leading towards the shower as you move with haste. Though you’re sure the Harrington's won’t notice, you don’t want to waste the hot water. 

The heat soothes you— swathes of relief washing down your body, picking up every piece of ice in your skin and sending it swirling down the drain. It doesn’t take too long to get back to warm and toasty. 

Still, when your eye catches on it, you can’t resist. Steve has a body wash that smells heavenly. You pick it up, flick back the cap, and take a whiff — just to check it’s the one that’s been infiltrating your very dreams. Steve, even on a daily basis, manages to smell so good it drives you close to delirium. 

You’re more than happy to steal it for yourself today. You take another sniff of the bottle in your grasp, just to inhale it with a sigh. The sweater he let you borrow the other week has the exact same smell; a musky perfumed scent, with a hint of bergamot. 

You dollop some in your hand and lather it all over. Properly cleansed and throughly warmed up, you let the final suds whirlpool down the drain before shutting the tap off and stepping out. The fluffy porcelain coloured towel is toasty in your hands as you pluck it off the rail.  A sigh in appreciation comes out as you dry off, twisting it around yourself. 

It’s as you stand there, refreshed and smelling of Steve, in just a towel, do you realise you’ve forgotten to bring in clothes to change into. 

On his bed, Steve sits idle — because what else is Steve supposed to do when you’re in his shower? When you’re naked in his shower. Naked in his shower and probably using his soap and lathering it up down your body and on your boobs and— oh my god, soapy boobs and— 

Steve’s pulls himself from his thoughts with a rapid shake of his head, just in time for the bathroom door to rattle open and your shining face to peek through. 

You look a little flushed, maybe from the heat, or from the lack of clothing. Steve can see your bare shoulder, his eyes tracking a drop as it rolls down your collarbone. None of this helps his runaway thoughts. 

He stands up without thought. Then he realises how strange he might look, like a dog standing to attention. 

“Feeling boober?” Steve says, like an idiot. Heat floods his face as he realises his flub. “BETTER! Are you feeling better?” 

He’s thankful that you at least laugh, a pretty sound that you tuck behind your hand. You have the nerve to wiggle your eyebrows at him, a far cry from the confidence he’s come to expect from you in the past. Steve can’t deny— he adores it. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“God,” Steve groans. He shoves his face into his hands and turns around, his back to you. His words are muffled over his shoulder. “Don’t even ask me that right now.” 

Another laugh titters out of you. Steve can’t resist peering over his shoulder. The steam curls out through the gap of the door, leaving dew on your skin. You look ethereal, like a dewy angel from a dream.

“Alright,” you relent playfully. You’re fighting a smile and losing, badly. Steve yearns. “Can you please pass me my bag?” 

This next time the door opens again and you step out, there’s less tantalising skin to tease Steve and his wandering mind. There’s still a flash of wet skin, the curve between your shoulder and neck. Steve wants to lick it, kiss it, devour it til the skin beneath is riddled with the bruises of a lover. 

For a moment, you’re simply admired — Steve’s eyes on you, adoring and soft, as you creep out the bathroom like you don’t want to make too much noise. 

You notice in your absence Steve has cajoled a little tray table into his room, tucked up at the foot of his bed. Atop it sits a chunky television, antennae sticking up in perfectly straight lines. The ones at home on yours are slightly warped from all the readjusting. 

“Hey,” Steve says. He’s on the bed this time, and while he doesn’t get up this time, he sits up straighter as you emerge from the bathroom. You put your bag down, abandoning it by the door and try to quell your nerves. 

Steve, unless he’s somehow obtained x-ray vision and hadn’t told you, can’t see the nice matching set you’ve got beneath your comfy clothes. 

He won’t see it— unless this night goes where you think it might, where you hope it might, but even still, the thought manages to make you fluster. 

“Hi.” You say back, voice closer to a whisper. 

The bed sinks beneath your weight as you climb on to situate yourself beside Steve. He’s all soft corners and crinkled eyes, his arm raised up in an instant for you to tuck yourself under. Even warmer in his arms, your heart delights when he gives you a little squeeze.

“Alright, movie time!” The television at the foot of the bed pulls Steve away from you. He unwinds his arm enough to crawl down the bed. The grey ringer shirt he has one slips forward a bit and at your angle, you can catch more than a sliver of his tan tummy. 

Without thinking, your thighs press together tightly as heat flares between them. You can trace the alluring wiry trail of hair with your eyes until it disappears into his pyjama pants, continuing out of sight. A part of your wants. 

You want to see where it goes, want to curl your fingers into his waistband and work it downwards, you want find out if the moles go all the way down his thighs like you hope they do.

Hunger sinks its teeth into your skin; a hunger you’ve been getting more and more familiar with. 

“Okay, pervert,” Steve’s cheeky remark shakes you from your thoughts and you start to stammer. He’s clearly caught you staring. “Can’t say I blame you for ogling—“ 

“I was not—“  

“— because I have been told before that I have a very distracting and attractive behind.” 

You sputter and despite your best efforts, a little laugh splutters through as well because well, yeah, he’s not wrong — but your brain is stuck on repeat with something else entirely. 

Tummy, tummy, tummy, the hair on his tummy, the hair leading down into his pants.   

“Yeah, uh huh, okay, Harrington,” You slump back against the pillows with a dramatic sigh, clearly teasing. “If you say so.” 

The television flickers to life right as Steve lunges back towards you with all the energy of a labrador puppy. He squishes down onto you so quickly that you actually squeal in surprise. 

“Oh, I’m back to just Harrington now?” He pouts, squeezing even closer to you. You’re laughing, flattened beneath him in a way that you can’t even wiggle your arms out. He’s draped across you dramatically. You trust him completely. 

“It’s your name, isn’t it?” 

“I thought my name was,” He leans closer and kisses your neck. “Boyfriend. Or baby. Orrrrrr,” 

He kisses up your neck and onto your cheek. His hazel eyes are bright, crinkled in his grin so much that his lashes kiss in the corner. He kisses your nose. “Handsome.” 

“Mmmhm,” you revel in the never-ending affection, glowing from the inside with happiness. You wiggle your arms to make Steve push himself up, just enough to free them from being smothered against your chest. Free to roam, your hands find the sides of his face. 

“What about…” You begin. Steve watches you closely, evidently gleeful from the touchiness of your hands. He pushes into your palm, turning to kiss it fast. “My snookums.” 

You exaggerate the word, your voice going all sugary to butter it up. You watch as emotions ripple across Steve’s face— the twitch in his nose as he tries not to outright frown at you. How polite he is. 

It’s only as he catches the grin spreading across your face, wicked and just loving watching him squirm at the terrible pet-name, does he catch on to your jest. A sigh of relief and a chuckle whooshes out of him at once. 

“Oh, thank God you’re joking.” He drops all his weight into your waiting hands, grinning when you let his face flops forward into your chest. His words are completely muffled as he speaks into your chest. “That could’ve been serious grounds for a breakup.”

You huff a laugh and nudge him up best you can. “Yeah, alright, drama queen. Your movie is starting.” 

Steve’s head pops up, his head twisting back towards the television like he had forgotten about its existence until you had mentioned it. 

“Oh true,” He says. He pushes up off you to sit himself up, shuffling back so instead you can lean on him. Re-situating his arms around you, Steve hums absentmindedly as he throws a leg over you, tangling it with yours. Thoroughly intertwined, you both sink back into the pillows. 

The credits roll up and off the screen, the first five minutes of the film whisked away while you and Steve were settling down. Now, the opening scene begins, the grainy picture on the screen buzzing as it plays the VHS. 

You get approximately two minutes of silence, your and Steve’s heads turned towards the television, until distraction kicks in.

You do your best to ignore it as his head turns towards you, your eyes still focused on the screen, but all your attention runs to Steve. He nudges a little closer to you, his nose pressing into your temple and right as you realise he’s smelling you, he says— 

“Did you use my body wash?” 

You freeze. 

“I— was I not supposed to?” Your voice comes out a bit weaker than intended. 

Steve lets out a soft noise, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, only worrying you further. He starts to shift around a bit, retracting his leg back an inch, his nose no longer nudging close along your temple; all actions that contrast his assuring words. 

“No, no, no, it’s fine, you’re fine—“ Despite his words, he shifts again. His hips shuffle backward, one of his hands moving down subtlety as he can to fuss with his pyjama pants. 

It takes about two more seconds for you to get it — clued in by Steve’s suddenly scarlet cheeks and his embarrassed expression. 

Your mouth drops open a bit unwittingly. 

“Are you—“ 

“Yes.” Steve grates out. He abandons fixing the growing tent in his pants to cover his face with his hands, rolling slightly away from you. You can feel the heat of his embarrassment radiating off him. His words are slightly muffled from behind his palms. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean— I didn’t even realise that was something that got me going until, like, right this second.”  

It’s adorable that he’s so flustered and that he’s apologising. You’ve never had that happen before. You’ve never had someone so conscious of how it might seem— never someone like Steve who doesn’t seem to come with any expectations. 

A thread of relief jolts through you. It reaffirms what you already know; anything you want to do will be done on your terms. 

And with his eyes covered up, if you glance down at his pants for good hard look…. well, that’s between you and the universe.

“Steve,” your fingers curl around one of his wrists, tugging it gently. You try to coax his face out of hiding, your smile somewhere between giggly and endeared. “It’s— it’s okay, really, you don’t have to apologise. I— I mean, I’m honestly flattered.” 

Steve deflates a bit, torn between relief and his still persistent concern. He had made a committed plan that he wouldn’t make any moves until you initiated it first and yet, here he was, like every other male in Hawkins. Popping a boner the moment you settle down to innocently cuddle. God, he’s the worst!

A pout forms on his lips. He wishes he could rewind the last 2 minutes and spend the whole movie holding his breath. 

“What is it about the body wash?” 

Your question takes him by surprise, given the way his other hand drops off from covering his face. He blinks up at you, cheeks still with a hint of cherry red. 

“I- I dunno.” He admits. “Like I said I didn’t even realise that…” 

Steve’s cheeks flush with colour again. He clears his throat. “That would have that effect on me.” 

Something within you preens, a fire stoked by his honest admission; a zing shooting down your spine because you don’t think you will ever get used to hearing how Steve wants you.

“Well,” you begin, the word more timid than you hoped it would be. You clear your throat and cast a glance at the television, feigning casualness. “If I was the cause…” 

You let your hand come up, brushing across his warm tummy. Look up at him through your lashes, hoping, praying it looks sexier than you’re feeling— which is somewhere between flustered and foolish.

Still, Steve’s throat bobs. You watch his eyes dart down to your lingering hand, an inch or so above his waistband. 

“Maybe, I can be the remedy.” 

A tiny groan scrapes out of Steve’s throat, like he would love nothing more. Even so, he pins you with a sincere look, hazel eyes burning into yours. 

“You don’t have to do that.” He assures you. “I mean—“ He coughs awkwardly. “It will go away, uh, in time.” 

“I’m aware how it works, Steve.” 

“Oh, are you?” Steve jokes— laughing when you wallop him in the chest. He grabs your hand, stopping your assault mid-motion with a cheeky smile. “Okay! Okay, I deserved that.” 

He releases your hand and you let it fall onto his chest. Nerves prickle beneath your skin but with them is something new, something you’ve only gained since your time with Steve; anticipation. 

Steeling your anxiety, you let your hand trail down his chest slowly— enough time that he could halt you before you embarrassed yourself. But he doesn’t. Steve watches you closely, his chest rising and falling a bit harder as your hand nears his waistband. 

This time, you don’t stop. You let your fingers brush over the tented fabric hesitantly, torn between wanting to watch your hand or to see his face. As confidently as you can, you palm across his bulge— feeling the heat of his hard length thickening up under your hand. 

Steve groans lowly. 

You look up at him as you rub him softly, taking in his large pupils and pink lips. He’s watching you too, his eyes darting between your face and the hand on his cock. 

“Is this okay?” You check. The movie crackles on in the background, idle noise. Steve nods quickly, a curl of his hair falling down onto his forehead. 

“Yeah,” He says, voice breathier than it was a minute ago. You try out a harder rub, beginning to feel out the shape of his cock, and you curl your fingers around it. Steve groans again, a little bit louder, his eyelashes fluttering. 

Still, he composes himself enough to ask, “Is this okay for you?” 

“Hmmm,” you draw out the noise, the smile on your face giving away your faux-thinking. You squeeze him again, right as you murmur, “Maybe make that noise again and I’ll see.” 

But any noise he makes is captured in your mouth as he surges forward, one of his hands curling up under your jaw. His fingers slide into your hair and his lips are sweet and soft, hungry for more against your own. 

You can’t help but melt under his kisses, body relaxing into the sheets as you let yourself be kissed breathlessly. A warmth pools deep within your chest, drooling down into your stomach. Anticipations sinks in. Your thighs rub together. 

Losing the nerve and the focus, your hand slips up to cup at Steve’s hip— but if he cares, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he takes it as a cue to press forward, leaning his weight onto on his elbows to hold his weight as he shifts up, his lips never leaving yours. 

It’s one smooth motion, the way he slips a leg between your own, his body held up and hovering above yours. He kisses, slow and languid. You ache. Your lips haven’t ever been so kissed before. 

It isn’t until his thigh shifts up and presses just right do you notice it properly — unable to swallow your shallow gasp, lips halting against Steve’s as a bolt of pleasure blooms deep in your gut. Your eyelashes flutter, a shadow of embarrassment threatening your cheeks. 

“S’okay?” Steve whispers, not relenting any of his closeness. His lips brush yours. 

You nod gently, a quiet hum sounding in your throat. You’re not entirely sure you can form words right now. Not when it feels like your heartbeat is everywhere — when you can feel the heat between your legs, the tightness of your nipples as they peak, the undeniable thrum of lust building within you. 

And certainly not when you can feel Steve, his hardness pressed up against your thigh, his pupils bigger than usual. They’re ringed in that hazel you love— a colour that might be your new favourite ever. 

Fuck, you’re in deep. What an incredibly sappy thought to have while you’re getting hot and bothered. Did Steve think that way about you too? Think about the colour of your eyes while he kissed your mouth?

“I…” You finally find your voice and Steve pulls back a couple inches so he can see you properly. His eyes dart over your face adoringly, his lips rosy red from all the kisses and quirked into a smile. He looks at you as if you’re everything. 

“I want to…” You say, unable to find the words to finish your sentence. Embarrassment winds up inside you, ready to spring free but Steve seems uncaring at your hesitance. 

“You wanna what?” 

He kisses the corner of your mouth with a hum. Endlessly patient. Somehow your stomach churns a little faster at that. Nerves stand up on their end, a thousand uneasy prickles over your body. 

“I want to.” You say this time, firmer. “Do more.” 

It still sounds too mousy coming out and you see a flicker of something on Steve’s face. 

“If you do, I mean.” You add on quickly. “I want to if you do.”

Steve huffs a quiet laugh, like the idea of checking in with him was a bit absurd. His gaze roams over your face slowly, taking his fine time just looking at you. He looks as though he doesn’t quite know what to say. 

He lands on, “You don’t seem sure.” 

Your heart flip-flops at the wrinkle between his eyebrows, his concern evident. He fixes you with a serious, sincere look.

You nod, your hair scrunching up against the pillow as you do. “I am. I just…” 

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and worry it, thinking of how to put this. You’ve said it before, you’ve told him how it was in the past, how you hadn’t enjoyed it and yet…

Feeling too squirmish under Steve’s intense stare, you avert your eyes to look at the ceiling and swallow the knot in your throat. 

Your voice comes out a whisper. “I want to try but I’m not sure— I just I can’t promise that I’ll- that y’know, I—” 

Eyes crushing closed, you try to seize your bubbling anxiety before it seizes you. This is Steve. You trust him wholly. Just a moment ago you were thinking about how much you like him and—

“Hey,” Steve murmurs lowly, nudging his nose into yours. Your eyes open. He smiles softly when he says, “I have no interest in doing something you don’t enjoy.” 

The protest flounders up inside you before you can stop it. “But—“ 

“So,” He cuts you off pointedly. “If we give it a go and you don’t like it, that’s okay. We can just figure out what you do enjoy, okay?“

For a long moment, you just stare up at him.  

“Yeah? So we can just try and if it… If I…” You flounder for words, sounding like you think it must be too good to be true. You stare up at the ceiling as you try to verbalise the biggest hurdle, the final niggling worry.

You peer back up at Steve’s face. “You… you wouldn’t be disappointed if we started but then I wanted to stop?” 

Some emotion shutters across Steve’s face, a flash of devastation. You mistake it for annoyance. 

An unwelcome hitch suddenly twists in your stomach. “I'm sorry, I know that you— we already- last time, we talked about this and I should know—“ 

“Stop it,” Steve interrupts with a soft shake of his head. “Stop doing that, it’s fine to feel unsure or- or to not know what you like. It takes time and experience to figure what you do like.” 

His hand shifts up, brushing the hair back from your forehead. He leaves it there, the warmth of his hand a comfort. His fingers curl lightly into your hair. 

“That’s all I wanna do,” He breathes softly, his lips tugging up at the corners. He looks unbearably earnest, his brown eyes shining. “Just wanna do what you like. Wanna figure out what you like.” 

He leans down and kisses your cheek. Then your jaw. Then that soft sensitive spot under your ear. You squirm but this time for all the right reasons. 

“Y’want me to do that?” He murmurs. 

You’re breathing a little heavier and when Steve nips at your earlobe sparingly, just a love bite and a flash of teeth, your breath catches loudly. Desire surges through you, hot and straight between your legs. 

It takes another moment to remember he’s asked you a question. 

“Yeah…” you breathe. You wanna nod but you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing. Your throat bobs as you swallow. “I wanna do that. Wanna— wanna learn what you like too.” 

Steve hums, a pleased sound, and he kisses languidly at your neck. His lips, soft and plush, scrape against your skin in a way that gathers heat low in your gut. Your hips tilt forward an inch, moving against his thigh almost imperceptibly.

“Yeah?” 

The way he says it, the way the word rolls out of his mouth, all husky and low, makes your nipples peak. 

“We get to learn together, hm?” He kisses your neck again. The soft press of his tongue and the gentle scrape of his teeth have you gripping the sheets, almost white knuckled. 

Suddenly, you can’t stand to not be touching him. Your hands fly from the sheets, fingers curling around his midriff, feeling at the warm skin. His t-shirt is warmed by him. You slip your hands beneath it as he bites where your shoulder meets your neck, soft enough to make you sigh. 

Your hand finds skin. Finally, finally, you get your hands on that damned happy trail that’s been all but haunting your daydreams for the past months. 

As Steve kisses down your neck, you trace the line of hair with your finger slowly. Your thumb strokes the coarse hair all the way down to his waistband, gentle and hungry all at once— trying to commit it all to memory. Unwittingly, Steve shivers at the motion. 

“Fuck,” his breath shudders against your neck. He tucks his face in closer, fighting the urge to press his body up against yours and grind. You feel the twitch in his hips anyway. “You drive me crazy.” 

“Me too,” you gasp when he pulls off your neck, blowing cool air across the heated skin he’s been dedicating himself to. You wonder if a bruise will come up, beautiful and kiss-bitten. You clench a little at the thought, the heat between your thighs only increasing. 

A mark from him— a mark of a lover. 

You want to give one to him too. Managing to remember you can do things with your hands, other than just pawing at his back, you shift them up to curl into his hair. Tugging gently, you coax his face up enough so you can nose alone the length of his neck. 

Steve’s panting and you can hear his breath catch when you start planting kiss after kiss on his skin— dragging your bottom lip across those glorious moles you adore so much. 

Without meaning to, you press him back and Steve lets himself roll back onto the mattress, his hands tugging you closer. You take the invitation and struggle for a moment to get up over his hips, one leg too tangled in the blanket on the bed. 

“My leg,” you laugh weakly, having to retract a hand from his hair to free it. When you do, you settle down, straddling his hips, and try not to lose your confidence. Still, you can’t help apologising. “Sorry.” 

Steve peers up at you lovingly, frowning a little when you apologise. “What? No, it’s fine.” 

He shifts one hand and grabs the loose blanket beside you and then hefts it up, throwing it as far as he can off the bed with a grunt. It lands somewhere behind you with a soft noise. 

“Blanket’s fault.” He says, brown eyes back on you. “Freaking cockblock. I got rid of him, babe, don’t worry.” 

You snort a little, leaning down to kiss his perfect lips.

“My hero.” You murmur sarcastically against them. 

“Ooh, say that again, baby,” Steve moans exaggeratedly, throwing his head back onto the pillow dramatic, his eyes screwed shit.  

You laugh, unknowingly relaxing a little further into him. You swat at his chest. 

“Steve.” 

“Oh!” He moans again, all girlish and fake, and twists his head in the other direction. “I love it when you say my name like I’m an idiot!” 

You gasp, but it’s still hidden in your laughter as you hit his chest again, for a different reason this time. 

“Don’t say that!” You say genuinely. “I don’t think you’re an idiot.” 

Steve drops the act, his eyes creasing open to shine up at you. He’s glowing beneath you, cheeks a bit flushed and grinning like he’s a little bit in love with you. You think he might be. 

“No, you don’t.” He agrees. He soothes his hands up and down your sides. “Only idiot is that idiot who let you think there was anything wrong with you.” 

“Ugh,” you scoff. “Please don’t bring him up ever again— least of all when we’re in bed.” 

Steve squeezes your sides gently and smiles up at you like he hasn’t heard a word you’ve said. “Noted.” 

And then you kiss him. 

For a couple of minutes it’s this easy, lazy making out that you love. Though, it’s like there’s a furnace turning up beneath you both, the intensity getting more feverish with every kiss. When Steve finally pulls back from you, panting, he looks as flustered as you feel. 

“Can I take these off?” 

His fingers are curled into the waistband of your pyjama pants. You nod before you can overthink it, letting him shimmy them down your thighs and settling yourself down on the comforter. Steve sits up a bit beside you, to tug them down your legs and off your ankles. 

Steve’s focus is on his hands but your gaze is stuck on his face— and you watch as he tosses your pants behind him carelessly. His eyes fix on your cunt, hidden away behind your lacy panties. 

“Woah,” he murmurs softly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. He leans down on his elbows, one arm on either side of your hips and pings the elastic on the cutest lingerie you own. “These are very pretty.” 

He sounds like he means it, his voice tinged with lust. It gives you a moment of confidence. 

“Yeah?” You ask. You slide your hands up, pushing your shirt up gingerly as you to reveal the matching bra to him.

Even from your distance, you can see how Steve’s pupils dilate, blowing way out. “You like them?” 

Steve let’s out a pained noise as his head flops over, his nose pressed into your hipbone. One of his hands reaches down between his legs, adjusting himself in his pants. 

He looks back up at you, hair a bit mussed, and pouts.

“That’s not fair! That’s so not fair. Did you plan this? Blindside me by wearing my body wash and then surprise me with matching lingerie?” 

The way he says it, all faux accusatory, makes you grin. He sits up long enough to tug his own shirt off, discarding it behind him, and crawls up the bed to kiss you. You catch a glint of the single chain he wears around his neck before he's kissing you.

“You—” Kiss. “look—” Kiss. “so—” Kiss. “fuckin’—” Kiss. “hot.” 

He pulls back, taking a moment to just gaze at you before he leans back further, scuttling down the sheets til he’s paused between above your legs. 

Something within you flares hotly at the memory of the last time he was in the position. You feel a warm pulse in your cunt, a trickle of slick coating your panties. Your hips shift an inch— half nerves, half anticipation.

Steve kisses you over your panties, like last time, the first chaste and on your clit. The next is a little lower, a little slower, his lips parting further and his tongue pressing languidly against your core. You squirm, breathing a little heavier. 

His hands grips gently at your hips, moving up to smooth over your thighs. He lets his fingers slip forward, the tips of them pressing lightly into your inner thighs. He pulls them further apart and ruins you a bit when he kisses sweet along the skin of your thigh. 

“I’m pretty sure we could just do this every time and I’d be happy,” Steve says, but it’s paired a chuckle fringed with nerves.

He looks up at you and you realise it is a bit of nervousness— like he’s worried you might find it embarrassing just how much he likes it. 

Your blood hums in response, warmer, all of it rushing down your body. You don’t know quite what to say to that, so you say, “Yeah?” 

Steve smiles, that flash of nervousness already gone or cleverly hidden. He gives your thighs a gentle squeeze with his large hands and rubs his cheek up against one of them. 

“Are you kidding me? I think I’d do anything you wanted just to hear those noises you made again.” 

Your lips part slightly in surprise. He’s always so startlingly honest and forward with his feelings but, somehow, it still manages takes you by surprise— that he’s not at all shy about how much he likes you. 

Scrambling for an appropriately sexy response, you come up blank and instead decide to press your thighs together. Between them, Steve’s cheeks squish forward, his lips forming an absurdly funny pout. 

“Hey!” He exclaims.

It comes out a little muffled with his face squidged up and the mixture of both his face and voice makes you laugh. You release him, legs falling apart, feeling the breath of his laugh again your skin. 

“Kidding, you can warm my ears anytime you want, honey,” He’s still grinning up at you when he says it. Part of you know he’s being completely serious. 

Your gut burns low. You resist the urge to squirm, feeling the heat chase down to your cunt. It’s hard to relax when he manages to make you feel so keyed up. 

“Stop getting distracted.” You jest. 

“You stop getting distracted,” He jibes back, but his focus drifts back down, his eyes darkening with a fiery lust. 

He rubs the skin of your thighs again, soothingly, and lets one hand creep forward til his knuckles are brushing up against the edge of your panties. His thumb presses forward, into the wet spot you’ve soaked through. 

Even so, he still asks, “How we doin’? Still feeling good?” 

You nod quickly, then think verbal confirmation is probably far better. “Yeah, still good.” 

Realising you’re staring up at the ceiling, hard, you flick your eyes down between your legs. Even if it doesn’t feel particularly sexy, you still have to say it. “Thank you for checking.” 

“Of course,” Steve says. He pinches the elastic of your panties lightly, his eyebrows raising in question. “Gonna take these off, yeah? Then you let me know if you don’t like anything I’m doing.” 

Despite your history, a huge part of you wants to say yeah, fat chance of that because yeah, you’re beginning to wonder if your boyfriend has some genuinely magical fingers. And a magical mouth. And wait, does that mean his co—

The thought gets ripped away as you feel your panties get tugged downwards and you quickly lift your hips to help. Though he’s seen you bare before, it’s impossible to stop the flush that rolls through your body, hot and tinged with embarrassment. You want to close your legs but Steve between them prevents that from happening. 

“Here,” Steve hums, reaching a hand up to scoop up your own from the bedsheets.

He gives it a quick kiss on the palm and then moves it up to land in his hair. “You let me know how m’doing, okay?” 

Your fingers curl into his brunette locks automatically and grip tightly when he leans in, his hot tongue dipping between your folds. Pleasure drips into your body as he begins to lick softly, his skilled tongue finding your bundle of nerves quickly and twisting around it. 

Heat builds. You close your eyes and let yourself enjoy it, soft pants escaping your lips as Steve kisses and suckles where you’re most sensitive, til there’s a moan lacing every breath. 

Fuck, he’s so good at this. How is he so good at this? 

One of his hands on your thighs starts to knead gently as the other one slides forward, til his thumb is rested at your slicked entrance. He hasn’t stopped sucking on your clit but your sudden sharp inhale catches his attention. 

“Sorry,” you say instinctively. 

“It’s fine,” Steve soothes, his thumb circling around your soaked hole, which clenches in response.

He kisses your thigh. Desire burns you up from within, your fingers twisting a little tighter in his hair, giving away your nerves. 

“We’re just figuring out what you like, yeah?” He muses, his words half comfort, half lust. 

You nod but don’t speak, trying to trust him enough to let his words calm you. Steve gives you a moment to breathe before he resumes the work with his mouth, his hot mouth suckling at your clit once again. 

He waits until you’re back to those quiet, shy lusty little noises before he tries again, prodding softly at your entrance in warning before he gently sinks his finger in. You gasp again, hands tightening in his hair — as something molten hot shoots right up your spine. 

“Steve,” you cry out his name. It feels... good, which feels like a fucking miracle in itself. He begins to fuck the finger in and out slowly, still lapping at your clit. A heat that you’ve only felt once before starts to nip at your skin, bleeding into each nerve. 

Your panting grows heavier and without meaning to, you clench down around him, desperate for a little more. 

“See, you like that one, huh?” Steve mumbles against you, his dark eyes flashing up to take in your face contorted in pleasure. His cock thickens unbearably in his pants, too confined. You nod, hair scrunching up against the pillow. 

“Yea—yes,” You say, feeling your hips rock down an inch. You want more of that. 

Steve obliges, more than willingly, adding another finger. It slides in with little resistance. It’s hotter than anything else to get to see you like this, pliant and horny, rocking your hips against his mouth. 

To get to make you like this— sucking on your cute little clit and fucking his fingers in, hearing the adorable squelch of your wetness. You’re so turned on it makes his brain melt a bit, the way you’re leaking all over his fingers. Steve’s cock throbs desperately— but he wants to make sure you’re stretched out enough to take him. If you want that, that is.

He eases one more finger in, keeping a careful watch on your face to see how you take it. You keen beautifully, back arching slightly as he curls his fingers and begins to stretch you out. 

You pant deliriously, these tiny whimpers beginning to slip out your throat. Steve wishes he could see your face, the cute scrunch of your brows as you moan— but happily settles for latching his lips back onto your cunt. 

Three fingers feel even better than two, you find, as you grip the sheets tightly— you’re throbbing but in this torturous way, balancing on the edge of too much and not enough. There’s a hint of pain lingering at the back, but not enough to distract you from the pleasure. 

It takes you by surprise then, when the pleasure suddenly tapers off, your eyes creasing up open and head popping up. You realise Steve is slowly stopping, his slick fingers slipping out of you as he sits back up a bit. 

“Why’d you stop?” You say without thinking.

Flushing, you quickly follow it up. “Every— everything okay?” 

God, you sound wiped. Your chest is still heaving and your clit twitches, missing the stimulation of your boyfriend’s mouth. The air smells honeyed and perfumed with sex. 

“You tell me,” Steve murmurs sweetly, his lips grazing the inside of your knee in an almost kiss. “You said you wanted to do more. Is this enough more?” 

Your heart nearly bursts in the pure consideration. God, he’s so fucking nice to you. So unbothered to take things your pace, so attuned to making you feel good. You know that you could happily do this more for the rest of the night. 

But it’s not what you had in mind — and the longer you wait, the more you’re beginning to crave getting Steve to a similar state you’re in. Moaning, flushed in the face, his hands buried in your hair. 

“We can do more,” You say, your voice dropping back into that shy whisper. 

Steve watches you closely, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing at your thigh dotingly. 

You clear your throat and speak a little louder. “I wanna do more.” 

“Yeah?” Steve says, his grin growing. He huffs and shakes his head a little, dropping your gaze. 

“I mean, believe me, even if we just—“ He gestures vaguely between your thighs. “— did this all night? Night well spent.” 

You know he means it, especially with his hungry gaze that dips back down, his tongue slipping out to lick his bottom lip briefly.

You press up onto one elbow and reach out one hand, hooking your finger over the one single chain he wears. There’s a ring looped on it, the one you gave him as a promise, and just the sight of it makes you glow inside. 

You tug the chain forward lightly and him with it, Steve shifting up the bed til you’re nearly face to face, his frame hovering above you. The beds dips beneath his hands as they crawl up to either side of your waist, his intense eyes locking onto your face. He might be holding his breath. 

Swallowing, you move up and press your lips to his in a slow, soft kiss. It turns deeper, hotter, heavier. You swipe your tongue into his mouth and Steve lets out a pitiful noise in response, pressing his mouth against yours desperately. 

Drawing back with a little gasp, you open your eyes and repeat your earlier sentiment, “I want to do more.” 

Steve watches you, his exhale shaking slightly. You dot a kiss on his cheek quick, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“I want to do more with you.” 

A kiss on his other cheek, just as fast. Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch.

“I want to do more, right now.” 

Steve smiles splits into a grin, his eyes shining as he chuckles, the sound doused in fondness. “Okay, okay, I got the message,” He murmurs. 

Pushing back to sit on his heels, he turns and rummages around in his bedside table for a moment. You lay back on the pillows and try catch your breath, knowing it’s only a matter of time before it’s stolen once more. 

When Steve pulls back, there’s a row of condoms in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. He tears off one of the condoms and throws the rest of them behind him without thought.

You can’t help but tilt your head up, neck straining a bit, not wanting to look away for a moment as Steve raises onto his knees and pushes his boxers down. His cock kicks up, released from its confines with a soft slap against his happy trail. 

Unwittingly, your mouth waters a bit.

And look, you’ve seen a dick before, okay? It’s pretty hard to sleep with someone and not see one, unless you have your eyes closed the entire time. 

But Steve’s cock is… pretty. 

Pink and aching, the head of it slick with a bit of pre-cum— that you realise he’s gotten from being worked up whilst eating you out. You gush a little at the dizzying thought. 

You want to touch it — or put it in your mouth so you can drool over it, can suck on it, can feel the heady weight of it on your tongue. Or, as you realise what the ache of your cunt means, you really, really want him to fuck you with it. 

Instinct drives your thighs apart, beckoning him between them. Steve’s eyes darken as he notes the motion, moving a bit more hastily to tear the condom packet open. He rolls it down his length, quick and precise. 

“Okay,” Steve breathes, reaching out for the lube and drizzling a generous amount into his palm. He keeps the bottle within reach as he slicks it over his heavy cock, a beautiful groan pushing out his throat as he does. 

“Okay,” He says again, a little breathier than before. Shuffling forward, Steve lines himself up with your core gently before halting. His eyes dart up to your face.

“You let me know if there’s anything you don’t like or you wanna stop.” 

You nod, his ardent care only serving to fuel your lust. You’ll coo over it in the afterglow— right now you want to be around him, want to feel him pulsing inside you, want to feel full where you’re suddenly feeling so, so empty. 

Steve shifts forward, beginning to sink into you with a low groan of pleasure. 

The first few seconds are bliss — Steve’s done his job well at warming you up and something hungry awakens with a burst of pleasure as you take the first few inches.

Then, something a little more uncomfortable joins the mix. 

You try not to squirm, disappointment inflating as your pleasure is robbed by the twinges of pain. It’s not unbearable but you’re enjoying yourself less. Steve moves in another inch and then discomfort abruptly becomes pain.

You inhale sharply, teeth gritted together, and Steve stops moving in an instant. 

“Woah, y’okay?” 

You nod, even as your eyes slip shut. Half of this is a mental game, you know that—you’ll never loosen up if you don’t try to relax. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly, voice a bit tight. “Just— just gimme a minute.” 

Steve murmurs a quiet sure but after a moment he says, “Wait, lemme—“ and moves forward so he’s hovering above you instead of sitting back, your faces much closer now. The jostling doesn’t help but having Steve closer does. 

He keeps his hips as still as he can and kisses your cheek. You don’t open your eyes just yet, willing yourself desperately to relax, to enjoy it. You take a deep breath.

“We can stop,” Steve whispers. 

You shake your head. Creasing your eyes open, you move your hands up so you can twine them around Steve’s neck in almost a hug. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek again, then steals a kiss from your lips. 

“I wanna—“ You gasp, frustration mounting at how the pain doesn’t seem to be subsiding. You sound miserable as you cling to him closer. “I want this to work.” 

“It’s okay if it doesn’t,” Steve responds, his arm shifting up so he can trace his thumb over your cheekbone. 

The movement moves his hips forward another inch, pain spiking so severely that you wince aloud, your face pinched in discomfort. That’s all it takes for Steve to shift back, easing out of you gently. You’re devastated at the relief that follows. 

“Okay, I’m not doing that if it hurts you—“ 

“It wasn’t,” You lie fruitlessly. You know Steve heard your wince—but maybe if you lie, you can trick your body. 

Hands coming up to cover your face, you scrunch your eyes up, annoyed at how they sting with tears so quickly. Your voice is all wobbly when you say, “I’m sorry. I'm sorry, I really want this to work, Steve.” 

Steve aches at your words, moving in to tug at your hands. His voice is soft, sweet.

“Hey, hey, I know that, sweetheart.” 

You don’t let him in, hands still shielding your face. He kisses your knuckles instead, his thumbs swiping up and down your wrists comfortingly. 

He waits a moment before he continues, voice buttery soft, “I know you want this. It’s not your fault if your body only likes it some ways and not others. You can’t control that and I know that.”  

You take one deep breath and it shudders as you inhale, sounding far too teary for Steve’s liking. He tugs at your wrists again, relieved when you let him pull them away tentatively. You aren’t crying but you look damn near close. 

“What’s got you so upset, huh?” Steve coos, nuzzling in close, his nose brushing against yours.

He releases your wrists to cup your face, tender and soft, his brows knit together in his concern. “You know I don’t mind- I told you that I don’t care what we do, just that you’re enjoying it.” 

You take another shaky inhale, a little more stable than the last. Steve can feel how you move to press back against him, nuzzling him back. You take another moment before you reply. 

“I just-“ You start, voice still tight. “It’s so stupid. I wanted it— I wanted to enjoy it. And that doesn’t even seem to matter to my body. It doesn’t even change how it feels and that sucks. Like I can’t control this part of me.” 

Steve listens dutifully, waiting til you finish and your eyes find him.

“Well,” He starts, averting his eyes somewhat sheepishly. “Take everything I say with a grain of salt, okay? But… your body doesn’t hurt just to mess with you, right?” 

He waits a moment for your tentative nod. “Right. So, it’s not for nothing. It’s trying to tell you something and- and ignoring that isn’t having control. You have to listen and work with your body — it’s your partner in all this.” 

“I thought you were my partner,” you whisper, the small smile on your lips giving away your joke. Steve faux rolls his eyes and kisses the tip of your nose. 

“I’m your other partner.” He smiles. Then sighs, casting his gaze above your head for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Am I making any sense?” 

Wiggling one hand up, you place it on his cheek tenderly and begin to whisper. “You’re making a lot of sense actually.” 

Steve sighs, leaning his face into the palm of your hand with a huff. “Well, that’s a relief.” 

For a minute, there’s only quiet. Your emotions come down from their swell and you take the time to admire the beautiful boy above you, who seems to be doing just the same to you. 

After a moment of time, you clear your throat and say, “Can we try again?” 

Steve seems to think on it for a moment before he nods, turning to kiss your palm. 

“This is gonna make me sound like a total guy,” He says, words muffled against your hand. His brown eyes flash up to yours, darting between them. “But maybe we should try from the back. Like, different angle and all.” 

You snort, unable to hold it in because it does sound like such a guy thing to say. Even so, you give a little nod, eager to try something else. You don’t even want to acknowledge the mounting dread around disappointing Steve — even with all his assurances, you can’t help but feel as though this has been one gigantic let down. 

As Steve shifts back, you become suddenly aware of the lubed up slick spot on your thigh where Steve's cock was resting and scrunch your nose with a laugh. Peering down, you drag a finger through the wetness left on it. 

“Ew,” you laugh. 

“Ew?” Steve echoes incredulously. “Alright, that’s it.” His sits up and back, his hands darting down lightning fast, manoeuvring you all of sudden. He hooks his hands under your hips and lifts, twisting so you’re suddenly splayed on your front. 

You’re giggling all the while, drunk on the feeling of your boyfriend’s hands as they trail up your sides. The hair of his tanned scrapes against your back as he leans in, mouthing along your shoulder towards your neck. 

You find your knees and prop yourself up on them, lifting your hips off the sheets of Steve’s bed. At the angle he’s draped himself over you, it’s a perfect line up of his cock with your cunt, the head of it teasing your entrance when you push back. 

You're relieved that your emotional moment hadn't killed the mood altogether. That same hot, pulsating want from before tears through you and Steve takes a stuttering breath, the slightest moan in his throat. You feel his forehead press against your shoulder blade, as though he’s trying to compose himself. 

“You-“ He says, the word catching in his throat. As if unable to help himself, his hips grind forward, pushing his aching cock between your slick folds. You make pitiful, keening noises in response, a thread of pleasure run through the two of you. 

“You ready?” Steve asks shakily. He relents some of his closeness to grab the lube, giving another generous drizzle into his palm to slather over himself. 

“Please,” you whisper, pushing yourself back an inch. 

This time when Steve pushes himself in, the bliss stretches out, lasting more than just the first couple seconds. You make a high, breathy sigh of a noise and your head drops forward. 

Steve pauses, his breathing on the ragged side, and checks in. “Still feeling okay?” 

You nod feverishly, a whine building up in your throat that threatens to escape if Steve doesn’t move. Or maybe if he does move. You can’t tell — can’t tell anything other than how good it feels to have him inside you, hot and throbbing. 

“Yes,” you manage to gasp out. “Yeah, keeping going, please,” 

Steve grunts, complying in an instant, sinking his cock further in. Something inside you tightens up again— but it’s not nearly as noticeable as last time. Still, Steve recognises it and he slows for a moment. 

“I’m okay,” you assure breathily, face nearly pressed into the bed. You need him to keep moving. 

And he does; his cock sinks in another inch right as his hand creeps around your hip, searching for something blindly. You barely get one moment of confusion before his calloused fingers drag through the slick on your cunt and move up, pushing against your clit purposefully. 

You moan, loud and high. The friction of your clit is enough to make your thighs spread a little wider and your hips move back before you even realise what you’re doing, almost the rest of Steve’s cock sinking inside you. It feels good but something else pinches up inside you.

Steve moans, muffling the sound into your skin as he hides his face in your neck. 

You pant, suddenly dreading how you can feel the prick of pain on the fringes of your pleasure if Steve stretches you too far. "Don't- n-not too much," You warn gently, the words all breathy, still swathed in your pleasure. "I—uh— fuck, I don't think I can take it all."

You feel Steve's nod against the back of your neck, accompanied by a low hum in his throat.

“Y-yeah, okay,” He stammers. His hips roll forward and he follows your word, not quite pushing all the way in. "F-Fuck."

His breath is hot on your neck and the sudden urge for his kiss is nearly overwhelming. Even not facing him, the way Steve drapes himself around you, gentle even with how he grinds his hips into yours, feels intimate. Your cunt gives a soft squelch. 

“Oh fuck,” Steve gasps, stilling completely — the feeling of you wrapped around him is enough to nearly push him to the edge. He screws his eyes closed and whimpers, trying to keep himself together. 

“Y’okay?” You whisper breathily after a couple of moments, forehead pressed into the sheets. Your hips move just a little bit, shifting in a little circle so his cock slides out an inch, his fingertips grazing across your clit again. 

“I—ngh-“ Another whine slips out from his throat at your movement and Steve’s hand slips back, gripping your hip tightly. “Jesus Christ. Y-Yeah I’m good, just trying not to— fuck- end this too quickly.” 

He moves a bit, readjusting him arms to hold weight up a little easier.

“But you’re really wet and, like, really warm,” He grunts, almost accusingly. “And I really like you, so,” 

You can’t help it — a little laugh titters out of you, one of pure delight because Steve is sincere about his feelings. The laugh only serves to make Steve groan louder. 

“Shit,” He gasps, his forehead pressing into your shoulder. “You can’t laugh right now, it’s so not helping.” 

“Sorry,” you laugh again, a little more apologetic this time. 

Then, after a moment of gathered bravery, you say, “I don’t think I like this position. I can’t see your face.” 

Steve makes a pained noise from behind you, a breathy and sharp inhale, and suddenly his grip on your hip is twice as tight. 

“I’m gonna need you to stop talking. Please.” He grits out, voice sounding tight and barely restraining the moan in it. “I’m trying really hard here but you’re making this impossible.” 

Steve shifts on his elbow again, bicep bulging as he lowers himself to one side. His hips press into your backside, sinking himself further into your wet heat, as he settles his weight down onto the mattress. The springs make a noise in protest. 

You’re still closely intertwined, Steve pressed up against you, still throbbing within you, but now it’s more like… you’re spooning.

You settle down too, forcing out an exhale to let yourself melt back into Steve’s chest. 

He lets out a soft groan again but the new position means he can bury his face in your neck properly— and when you turn your head right, he seizes the chance for a kiss. 

He kisses sweet and slow to begin with, plush lips nipping at yours as if you’re not already in the throes of sex. Like he kisses you hello. His nose nudges against yours and he shimmies an arm beneath you on the bed. It curls itself around your stomach and Steve uses it to bring you even closer. 

“Is this better?” He whispers. He nudges his hips for a bit, giving a gentle thrust. Something warm flares at the pit of your belly, hungry for more. “Still okay?” 

You nod, a whimper escaping your throat as you steal another kiss from his lips. “Yes,” You whisper, lips scraping against his, hardly believing it. “Feels— feels good, baby,”

Steve finally gives in to his moan, a beautiful noise that sends heat rushing between your thighs. He begins to move more, building a gentle rhythm as he fucks into you, sensual and adoring all in one. 

Time drips away. You feel much warmer now, pressed up against Steve’s chest, with his kisses all around. One of his hands stays dutifully between your legs, pushing around your bundle of nerves and pulling weak, soft noises from you. The other, you cling to, your fingers twisted as best they can with his.

Pleasure wraps the pair of you up til a soft glow of sex and love settles over the both of you. Steve murmurs doting words, an endless stream of encouragement pouring from his mouth as he nibbles at the shell of your ear. 

Still feelin’ good? Yeah, you are. Just listen to you- sounding so pretty wrapped around my cock. 

Fuck, your pussy makes the cutest noises. So wet f’me, isn’t she? God, you drive me crazy. 

You’re taking me so well, yeah? Being so fuckin’ good f’me- letting me know how you feel. M’so lucky - fuckin’ love— love this with you.

You don’t even realise when every gasp out your mouth has turned into a moan, each breath building and mounting. Your chest heaves and Steve’s motions go from lazy to focused. His hips slow a little but his fingers over your clit speed up, dancing across the nerves perfectly. 

You clutch desperately at the arm he has wrapped around your waist, your head thrown back to rest on his shoulders with your eyes screwed shut. Your hole clenches wildly as you hurtle towards your orgasm— and go right over the edge without warning. 

You make this cute little gasping noise, high pitched and wrapped in a pretty sigh, and Steve doesn't think he's ever heard something so sensual, so pretty. His blood seems to thrum in response, pleasure turning the coil in his gut tighter and tighter.

Euphoria melts into your body and you sag into it with a drawn out soft moan, turning your face to search for Steve’s in an instant. One of your hands darts up, sloppily reaching for the back of his neck, suddenly starved of a kiss. 

You find his lips right as Steve finds his peak— his handsome face screwing up as he all but whines into your mouth. You capture it, some heavy, open mouthed kiss of desperation shared between you. 

Pleasure flows over you, hot and heavy, fuelled by the frantic grinds of Steve’s hips into yours as he whimpers into your mouth. Even though some part of you feels vulgar, another, louder, part of you feels like you've taken part in something sacred. Steve's fierce kiss certain feels akin to something holy.  

After a minute, the euphoria fades. You settle back into your body, feeling the scratch of the cotton sheets beneath you, the sweat of Steve’s chest on your back, the slightly discomfort in between your thighs. 

Steve can feel it, the moment you tense back up, some unwelcome twinge of pain in your gut. He’s shuffling back and pulling out before you even have to ask.

Without his chest to lean on, you roll backward naturally and flop onto your back, still panting lightly. Steve shifts up to hover above you. 

“You good?” He asks, that same breathlessness in his voice. He smiles handsomely, his hair a little limper than usual, flopping over his forehead. He looks gorgeous. “You did great.” 

That almost makes you laugh, the sincere praise so like one might give a child, but Steve seals it with a kiss to your forehead. Your laugh turns into a sheepish but giddy grin. “I’m gonna take the condom off, I’ll be right back.” 

He disappears from your line of sight for a minute or two and you can hear him rustling around in his room.

Without any distractions, you suddenly remember the film you’d put on in the beginning, still running at the end of the bed— the final credits are just starting to roll. The streetlights glow a little brighter in the evening dark through the curtains. 

You huff out a breath and your smile comes without even trying. In fact, if Steve hadn’t come back when he did, you’re sure you would’ve started giggle to yourself madly, cocooned in your own contentedness. That same awed, gleeful smile just like the first time round.

“You look like a dope, smiling like that, you know that?”

Steve’s wearing a pair of boxers, green plaid, and he’s got a fresh, warm wash-cloth in his hands. 

"I didn't know that," You muse playfully.

“Hey,” He changes tone to less playful, kneeling on the bed. You notice the change of clothes in his other hand when he throws them onto the duvet beside him. “M’just gonna clean you up a bit, that okay?” 

You’re sure there’s a pinch of embarrassment in you somewhere but, still blissed from your orgasm, you can’t manage to find it. Steve is quick and precise, the warm cloth wiping up any excess sticky fluids. He kisses the inside of your knee when he’s done. 

“All done,” He murmurs, climbing back off the bed in the direction of the bathroom, switching off the television as he does. He gestures to the clothes at the foot of the bed as he walks. “Y’can wear these if you want.” 

Finally feeling less flattened, you shift up to lean on your elbows. He’s grabbed you a pair of his boxers, the matching blue pair to his green, and one of his old Hawkins swim-team shirts. You slip into both quickly, your heart going a bit fuzzy with how soft the shirt is. 

Then you crawl beneath the covers, blood still rushing far faster than usual and a satisfied tiredness beginning to sink into your body. You can't help but thinking it all over — Steve's mouth between your legs, the feel of him sinking into you, the ecstasy of falling apart in his arms.

Part of you hadn't wanted to acknowledge that, well, it fucking worked this time and you enjoyed it. A niggly fear about jinxing it. Like if you pointed it out, it would incite the likelihood of your body turning on you once more. Robbing you of pleasure and experience in equal measure.

But when Steve comes bounding back to the bed, dragging back the covers to join you beneath them, you speak first.

"So, that didn't suck." You say excitedly, biting back your grin as Steve settles down beside you.

Together, you share one pillow as he scooches in closer. His hands reach out, searching for you amongst the sheets. When he finds your hips, he uses them to drag you closer to him, a halfhearted cuddle.

He lets out a puff of air against the pillow, a light snort. "I mean, hopefully it didn't just not suck."

If you had more energy, you might give him a playful shove because you know he knows what you mean. He'd seen the whole display of nervous emotions attached to sex all the way leading up to it.

Instead, heart feeling awfully gooey in your chest, you seize the opportunity to press in closer to him. Your head tucks beneath his chin, your lips barely grazing his throat.

"It was really good." You whisper, lashes fluttering as your eyes fight to stay open. Steve's warm on a good day. He's hot as a furnace with all the blood that's pumping around still. Perfect for snuggling up with.

"Yeah?" He sounds delightfully pleased, but not the smug kind. He sounds happy that you enjoyed it.

Then he whispers, "Told you it wasn't you."

His big palm sweeps up your back soothingly.

He's right. You've never been so glad to be on the receiving end of an I told you so before. Not that Steve would say that (at least, not right now).

Cuddling in closer, you wriggle one hand out from beneath the covers, not bothering to pull back or open your eyes when you murmur, "Just had sex high-five?"

You can feel Steve's laugh as it rumbles through his throat. It's an inside joke now, it seems.

"Hell yeah." He wiggles one hand free and slaps it against yours, probably a little harder than necessary. You laugh too, the sound a mixture of joy and sleep.

And yeah, okay, you might get it now. The whole big fuss around sex that everyone seems to make—but maybe you don't entirely agree with them.

There was something more in the... trust. In knowing that Steve wouldn't have cared which way it happened, as long as you were both enjoying it. In the intimacy shared, even before you had ever slept together. In the waiting. In the wanting—for both yourself and for Steve.

There's some grandeur discovery you've uncovered, you're sure of it, about the mystery and craze around sex. You just keep losing the string of thoughts to your slumber which drifts ever closer.

Oh well. You can always put it all together in the morning when you're not so tempted by sleep and bundled up in the arms of a boy who you love. For now, you drift off, fulfilled and content.

tags below! (seven months later...)

@roanniom @madaboutjoe @huang-the-geek @pootcullen @superskittles

@hales-who-loves-to-reid @spear-bearing-bi-witch @daisiesandinvasives @season4steve @thelauraborealis

@mmmunson @everythinghasafacee @katethetank @sorry--for-the-mess @matterdontminduntildone

@blowing-mikey @astoryreader @mulletmcghee @sugarcoatedstarkey @pullhisteeth

(these are just the ppl in the tags that mentioned wanting to be tagged! if i know u follow me and are a regular, i didn't bother tagging u cos i know you'll see it hehehe <3)

[meanbossart]

Do Drow and Astarion ever argue? Not necessarily over silly things, but serious stuff, like things going on in their relationship or, for example, due to a misunderstanding. If so, how do they act during those times? Overall, I just would like to know what they're like if they happen to get mad at each other lol.

Oh absolutely LOL arguing might as well be a pillar of how they... Progress their communication? If that makes any sense.

They are both abrasive in their own ways: DU drow in his brashness and Astarion with his quick temper. The former easily misses signs and sublety and the latter frustrates easily when trying to explain them to him. It is almost entirely In Astarion's camp to keep open communication going and pry DU drow's feelings and thoughts out of him, because he otherwise does not express them properly.

Something I found noteworthy about Astarion's character in-game, is that he is very good at being vulnerable when your relationship progresses - he is good at communicating his needs, wants, and seemingly at processing his own feelings and being upfront about them with you. DU drow, on the other hand, very much isn't. His internal world is a complete mystery to him, as is everyone else's - and Astarion consistently puzzles him and catches him off-guard by becoming upset with things he did not expect him to be upset by.

By contrast, he just closes up when he is distressed by something. Astarion has essentially found that the only way to get through to him in times like those is by elevating the stakes of the conversation - having a minor outburst, or prying and prodding until he gets some frustrated, reluctant admitance of emotional vulnerability out of him - he then privately puzzles it together into something cohesive and then disengages so they can tackle it calmly. This is, of course, a very clinical summary of a very organic concept, but it's more or less the gist of it. There are a few examples of it In A Novel Experience.

Ironically, this often makes it seem like Astarion starts every argument they have, but it's not quite as it seems!

Obviously there are absolutely instances where Astarion is the one being unreasonable, but he's much better at catching himself and quietly arriving at resolutions on his own - self-soothing, essentially. DU drow, on the other hand, wants to sweep every conflicting emotion he has under the rug, and Astarion realizes this would doom them as a couple if he allowed it to happen.

He can express his love and adoration for his partner and his friend concisely and proudly, but he staggers when it comes to feelings of insecurity, weakness, guilt, fear, the works. He will use every euphemism before he ever admits to any of it - not to mention the times when he can't even pin-point what those emotions are.

It takes someone who can navigate around all those eggshells to have an earnest conversation with him about it. This would be very frustrating for any partner to deal with and Astarion would have probably given up by now if DU drow didn't try very hard to meet him in the middle - he sees that, and he apreciates it.

They don't argue like lunatics though, for the record. I don't think they would ever raise a hand at each other or sink to personal insults, they are both more passive aggressive in that regard and feel genuinely bad when they realize they may have crossed a line - there's some nipping, some barking, never biting.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for hanging out with someone less in-person, and more online?

Here me out first please.

My buddy Austin (he/him) and I usually hang out at least every other week, if not every week. We've been doing this for the last few years after we both got more conformable doing in-person hangouts after the covid vaccines reached the general public in our country.

About a year ago, Austin was in a car accident (not a major one, don't worry) and walked away with a mild concussion (doctor's description). Ever since that car accident, Austin has been super sensitive to sound. In his words, walking across his floor in socks sounds like elephant stomping. His floor is carpet. Typing on a phone is so loud and distracting he can't hear anything else. Birds outside his house sound like they're chirping directly into his ear. He vents to me often that having a regular-volumed conversation sounds so loud it's painful to him.

When I'm over at his house, I try to be as quiet as I can. I'm careful to soft-step around the house and not take my shoes off. I try to shuffle or slide through the kitchen and other rooms that are not carpet so I make less noise. We whisper or half-whisper half-speak to each other in conversation. Movies we have subtitles on and the volume turned down to almost 0%. But Austin still looks like he's in pain by the end of a couple hour hang-out. Sometimes he'll get up and put in earplugs and then come back to continue the hangout. I feel really bad that he's putting himself through so much.

The last few months, instead of always hanging out in-person, I've been suggesting doing something virtual and letting Austin decide which he wants. I figure that if we're gaming, he can wear his earplugs or mute the game and we can use game chat or text each other to communicate. Same with watching movies, we can both adjust our volumes to our comfort levels (and leave subtitles on still. I don't mind them). Sometimes he wants to just do things online, and sometimes he insists on hanging out in-person. It's been about 60/40 online to in-person so far.

We hung out last weekend and first Austin said let's hang out in-person, but the night before we were supposed to hang out, he told me he rather hang out online this time. I was cool with it, but when I let my roommate Geoff (who is also good friends with Austin) know that actually I'd be home most of the day Saturday and answered Geoff's "why are you hanging out with Austin online again?" with "i don't know, Austin probably wants a quiet weekend instead", my roommate started accusing me of infantilizing Austin by hanging out online instead of in-person, that I'm abandoning Austin because his "auditory disablility is too inconvenient for fragile able-bodied feelings" (Geoff's words), and how since Austin hasn't explicitly said that in-person hanging out is too loud for him, then I'm being ableist by assuming things are too loud when he hasn't directly said that I am too loud. I argued that I don't think of Austin as lesser, I just don't want to cause him any unnecessary pain, and it's pretty obvious when things are too loud for him without words, because you can read the "Make it stop" / "No more" expression on his face. But Geoff doubled down really hard and told me i should be ashamed of treating Austin like he's incapable of making his own choices.

I was pissed and just walked out with my laptop. We did our movie day with me on the local library wifi instead. I don't think for a second I've taken away Austin's ability to choose, since I let Austin make the call on in-person or online!! But I'm also completely able-bodied. I haven't even experienced a temporary disability-experience like needing crutches during injury recovery or anything. Geoff has a chronic pain and fatigue disorder, so he has more experience with microaggressions than I do. So I don't know if I'm right about this being a non-issue, or if Geoff is right about me being ableist against Austin's noise sensitivities. It keeps eating at me now, and I don't want to bring this up with Austin since I already know he's really insecure about his new volume tolerance levels. Am I an asshole for doing online hangouts with Austin instead of sticking to only in-person stuff?

[artsyannierose]

Talk to me about how Angel always being scared of ruining his first healthy relationship (with Husk) so he tries to be as “easy to love” as possible but Husk loves him flaws and all:3.

(Btw I cherish your doodles)

Huskerdust doodle just for you anon <3

I COULD TALK ABOUT HUSKERDUST ALL DAY ANYDAY YOU CAME TO THE RIGHT PERSON

Well let’s see hm Angel has had little to no experience in relationships

Like bro was a closeted gay when he was alive and presumably had no proper “relationships” with anyone other than Valentino and…well we know how that turned out

So he probably is going to have a hard time even comprehending the fact that Husk even loves him for who he is as a person and not to bed him like literally everyone else has

Like honestly when was the last time ANYONE gave Anthony/Angel Dust aftercare??? I’m willing to bet never. Everyone he’s ever slept with never stayed till morning or let him get even maybe a glass of water, he was just kicked out after business was done and done. Then he would just cope with all of it with drugs and Valentino I assume

Now he’s got a man who already made it clear that he doesn’t want this fake Angel Dust persona that everyone else wants to sleep with because of what they see on their TV screen, but is rather interested in getting to know this broken boy behind the facade. Nevermind the fact that they are together, Husk is first and foremost his best friend (aside from Cherri but like Cherri is his bestie to get into shit with yk) and the kind of understanding they share is way beyond “yeah you’re hot let’s fuck” like Husk is no fuckbuddy if hes fucking Angel then obviously he’s there to stay (which i love about him)

So Angel’s automatic response because of the derogatory way Valentino has treated him would be “omg I can’t mess this up i canNOT mess this up” and he would do everything in his power to make sure Husk is thoroughly comfortable and never shows any signs of disgust or such if ykwim. Husk is a bit too flustered at Angel flirting a bit too much? He’ll dial it back tenfold. Husk pins his ears back at listening to Angel vent about Valentino doing something shitty to him? Angel will change the subject. He’d probably be so overly cautious about Husk’s little reactions that Husk probably isn’t even aware of himself

Because the problem now is Angel thinks Husk loves him for how Angel makes him feel rather than Husk loving him for who he is. He’s just. In denial man. So he tries to basically “pay him back” by being the perfect boyfriend, and i say this assuming they HAVENT slept with each other yet because if they haven’t figured this out Husk would probably say its too early lmaooo. So when I say being the perfect boyfriend, i mean like cuddles and kisses and helping each other out, venting, all that cute stufffff

I’m sure Angel is just trying to doeverything he can without like alerting Valentino to the two of them because BOY that would end badly.

Anyway one day Husk asks him why he’s not really being himself (because of course Husk can read him because why couldn’t he) and Angel’s like “wdym” and Husk just prompts him like “you hide all the bad parts from me much more now than before (like before they got together) and maybe Angel isn’t even aware of this until Husk points it out. It’s gonna take him a second to open up just because he’s not used to it but Husk just makes him comfortable, he’d total all put Angel in his lap and just purr until he’s comfortable nskdnfssfiwvagfjnderhgr

Angel finally pours out his insecurities like a tide and hides his face in Husk’s chest while everything just comes out once he’s started. After hes done he would say something like “I didn’t want you to see me like this…im so sorry” but just bury himself further into Husk while Husk is just taking a second to process everything he just said.

Hed probably do something sappy like tilt Angel’s chin up and peck his lips before telling him “What makes you think I wouldn’t love you past your fears and flaws?” (IDC I WANT SAPPY IM. HERE FOR SAPPSYYPYYPY)

Hold on holy shit creativewriting burst right here SHORT DRABBLE YALL I WILL REBLOG THIS WITH A SMALL FICLET

ANYWAY YES HUSKERDUST ANGEL PROBABLY WILL STYART CRYING AND HUSK WILL JUST CUDDLE HIM CLOSER AND WHISPER SWEET NOTHINGS WHILE ANGEL CRIES ABOUT HOW MUCH HE LOVES HUSK

GOSHHHHHHH I love them sm I’ll shut up now ok bye

why can I write an essay for Huskerdust for free and not write one to save my English grade-

[drdemonprince]

do you have any tips on distinguishing between wanting to bang/wanting to be wanted by/wanting non-sexual intimacy with someone? or is it just a case of seeing how you feel when you're actually with them and getting good at communicating about it

im probably not the best person to ask, because it took me uhh decades of fucking random people before i let myself acknowledge that sex is nearly always extremely boring to me and the only thing i'm thinking about during sex or in the lead up to sex is what i imagine the other person might be feeling about me.

every now and then a raw animal chemical attraction happens where i just feel like i NEED the person in me, i love how they smell and taste and i will risk it all to get them to bust inside me and i want them around me afterward.

but the rest of the time its this completely intellectual fantasy. instead of getting all wrapped up in the sex, or the person, all i care about is what i can convince myself it means. thoughts like this:

"oh this person is hot, it's very validating of my desirability that someone this hot wants me"

"oh that guy came very fast, how flattering that he was so turned on"

"i cant see his face in this position but i imagine that he's staring at me hungrily, that's flattering"

"wow i got someone from grindr to come over within ten minutes, im so good at sealing the deal"

"wow i cant believe i fucked eight people at this convention, how cool so many people want me"

"i've never tried this sex act before, i guess i might as well. maybe itll be useful for my writing. maybe ill like it."

thats the kind of shit that is normally playing around in my mind. when im actually attracted to someone i dont have to come up with some weird intellectual justification for why fucking is interesting or rewarding or reflective of me in a positive way. i just NEED it.

the self help guru mark manson (who is a little corny, but not bad) has this age old advice that "either something is a FUCK YES! or it's a no." and i think for some people, especially people who tend to try and persuade/guilt themselves into wanting things they dont actually want, that is a worthwhile reorientation. if i actually want someone its pretty damn unambiguous. if i have to even ask myself or sort out the true nature of my feelings, im bullshitting myself.

granted this advice wont be best for demisexuals, or for lots of other people. sometimes experimenting and trying new things sexually is great! its just. ive been doing that for a long time. i have been a very open minded, open to experience individual. and now im interested in being picky for a while

[achilles-rage]

NSFW Alphabet // Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley x Plus Size Reader

Hi besties<333 This is my first time writing so pls don’t absolutely tear me to shreds (just a little bit is acceptable though). I’m planning on making a SFW alphabet for Buck soon as well but some of the letters had me drawing a blank lol. Also, although there’s not really much mention of it, this is with a plus size reader in mind. As a plus size girly myself, it sucks to read x reader stories and knowing in the back of your mind that it wasn’t written with your body type in mind (although there’s nothing wrong with writers that do that of course). I just thought I would add to the plus size reader community because there are barely any buck fics and i believe in my heart that he loves plus size women. Anyway, enjoy <3

MDNI- 18+ Only

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

When y’all finish he’ll wait a few minutes before pulling out, head buried in your neck as his breathing gets back to normal. He’ll kiss your neck and tell you how good you were for him, before finally getting up to clean you up. After that he wants to lay with you and talk, just enjoying each other’s company, maybe y’all will make some food if you feel like it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: Probably his arms. He’s worked hard to be as fit as he is and he enjoys using his arms to move you/lift you while you’re having sex. He takes pride in his appearance, he knows he’s hot, but it’s an added bonus that he can lift you up and do whatever he (or you) wants.

Yours: I am of the firm belief that Evan Buckley is a thigh man. He loves how they feel in his hands, he loves how they look when you straddle him, he can’t get enough. He loves to see them jiggle when you move, or when he playfully smacks them. He loves thick thighs and I will die on this hill

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This man has a BREEDING KINK OKAY!!! He loves to cum inside you, fucking deep into you and feeling his cum fill you up. He loves watching it slowly dripping out, so he can finger it back in. If that’s not your thing I think the next best place would be on your stomach, watching your face as he lets go, seeing the way he marks you up. He loves your little tummy, how it moves as he ruts into you, so he loves it when you let him cum all over it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I only call this a dirty secret because he would never tell anyone about this after the last time it happened and he got fired. He wants to fuck you in the fire engine SO BAD. He can’t help but think of the way you would look as he fucked into you quickly, trying not to get caught with your dress up around your waist. He knows it’s not gonna happen, he’d never hear the end of it from anyone in his life if it did, but god he wants to so bad.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Girl have we watched the same show?? This man FUCKS!!! We all know (and love) Buck 1.0, and we know he knows what to do. Buck 3.0 might mean him changing into, well, not a sex addict, but that doesn’t mean he forgot his training (🫡). I think he understands that every woman is different, and while he might not get it exactly right the first time, he’s a fast and eager learner, watching what exactly makes you squirm and moan the most for him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Canonically, Buck LOVES when you ride him, and I agree. He loves to watch you move yourself on him, able to grab at your thighs, and your hips, and your chest. He also loves to move you on him, squeezing your hips tightly as he sets the pace if you start getting tired or if he just feels like it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I mean, he’s Buck, he’s truly a golden retriever of a man and cannot stay serious for long. I think he’s a bit of a mix, he can be serious in the moment, but at the end of the day, he’s still Buck, and Buck is silly goofy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it nicely trimmed, carpets match the drapes. In terms of his partner, he really doesn’t give a fuck. He’s seen it all and could not care less as long as he feels the way you wrap around him so perfectly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Buck 3.0 is a man of TASTE, but that being said, I think he only really pulls out the romance during special occasions. Most of the time this man wants to freak nasty, but sometimes when he’s tired, or just feels especially in cuddly/clingy, he’ll be more romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does it pretty often, of course not when he has the option to fuck you instead (and you’re willing, of course), but if you’re not with him and he needs a quick release, he getting right to it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding: I will scream this till the day that I die, this man wants a family more than anything. Whenever he’s inside of you, he can’t help but think about how pretty you’d look with your belly all round with his babies.

Praise: Look at this pathetic little guy, he needs to be praised, he thrives on it. He loves to hear how good he feels, how good he’s making you feel. This goes both ways. He’s in your ear immediately telling you how good you feel, how well you’re taking him, how pretty you look.

Spanking: HEAR ME OUT!! While I’m not sure he would actually bend you over his knee (but honestly the more I think about it he might) he would LOVE to give your ass a nice little swat as you’re riding him. He loves the sound it makes, and the sound you make because you’re not expecting it. I don’t think he’d ever do it hard enough to hurt too much, but I think enough to make your ass a little red would definitely be something he could get behind (lol).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He doesn’t have a ring cutter in the kitchen for nothing<3

I think he likes to have sex at home the most, on the bed, on the couch, on the kitchen counter. You name it, he wants to fuck you there. His favourite is the counter because he loves seeing you being so domestic in the kitchen. Making dinner, cleaning up, whatever, he wants you right then and there and cannot wait. He’ll come up behind you, wrapping his arms around you as he kisses your neck before slowly turning you around to face him and lift you onto the counter to have his way with you.

While he’s moved on from having sex in public places that could (will) get him fired, he’s still into it, but in less obvious places. If y’all are in his car and you’re looking a little too good in his passenger seat, he loves an empty parking lot quickie. Front seat, back seat, whatever you want, he’d be pulling you onto him as soon as he puts the jeep in park.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Girl ANYTHING gets him going, it would take one look, one touch, one word and this man would be ready to go. I think what really gets him going though is seeing you with kids or getting along so well with the 118. This man truly just wants a silly little family and someone that can get along with the 118fam, so seeing you like that has him making up a stupid excuse to leave a little early so he can take you home and have his hands all over you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Like I said before, I don’t think he would do anything to hurt you too much, other than the occasional light spanking or biting. He would also not be into any kind of age play or pet play, he’s pro kink but it’s just not for him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man is a giver and I stand by this. Dear god he loves nothing more than having you spread open for him, hands tangled in his hair as he makes himself at home between your thighs. He loves having his hands gripping your thick thighs, feeling them on either side of his head. When you start to get squirmy from the overstimulation he’ll place a large hand over your lower stomach, holding you still as he pushes you over the edge again.

With all that said, he will definitely not say no to getting head. He loves seeing you look up at him while you’re on your knees, trying to take all of him. He’ll keep a hand in your hair, pulling it softly every now and then, and he can’t help but moan and whine as he gets closer and closer, eventually cumming down your throat as he squeezes his eyes shut.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the day, but most of the time he likes it rough and fast. He loves a good quickie, meaning it kinda has to be more fast paced and rough, and he’s pretty easy to get riled up, so when you drop any sort of hint, he’s on you immediately and ready. On other days where he’s feeling extra clingy and lovey, he’ll be more of a slow and sensual guy, but I think for the most part he loves to fuck you deep and rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Like I said, he loves a good quickie. A lot of the time he craves a quickie before work, needing to feel you before his long shift. I think they happen pretty often, but he’d much rather take his time with you, using his fingers and mouth before he fucks you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As long as there’s clear communication he’s down to try pretty much anything, he’ll do anything to make you happy (within reason). I think he’s also a risk taker (also within reason, he has to think about not getting fired again, of course). Buck 1.0 is still inside him somewhere when it comes to sex so he definitely loves a little risk, but he’s grown enough to know where the line is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

While he would love to go as many rounds as possible, I think it would realistically be 2-3, lasting about 10-15 minutes each round. I think he would be the type to like having some time between rounds, tension still high as you talk and lay around before he's back on you again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Once again, he doesn’t have a ring cutter in his kitchen for nothing<3

He likes them, he definitely owns a few toys of his own. Vibrators, cock rings, some handcuffs or restraints, he’s very open to anything that increases y’alls pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He does it sometimes not really meaning to, like he does something and you’re like….dear god…and maybe he doesn’t notice the first time but the second time he does and WILL keep going until you snap. He loves the way you get all squirmy and whiny and desperate for him, knowing you want him as much as he wants you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

So vocal!!!! Literally that meme thats like “y’all afraid to make noise in the bedroom?? i be in my girls ear like…” He loves dirty talk (on both ends) and he can’t help but let out low moans when you’re clenching around him. He also loves hearing your breathless whimpers, making him feel like he’s doing a good job, and encouraging him to pull more sounds from your lips.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If he was in a relationship during the whole sperm donor thing, it would be the longest few weeks for both of y’all. I imagine the first time he has an appointment, you make sure you’re waiting for him in a cute little matching set, knowing how excited he was to finally be buried inside you again, hearing you whine as he fills you up. He’s so frustrated when his appointment doesn’t work out that he doesn’t let you know how it went, instead being unpleasantly surprised when he sees you sprawled out on his bed when you get home and unable to do anything about it. He wants nothing more than to rip your pretty little set off your body and run his hands up and down your soft curves, but he can’t, and it’s torture. You apologize (but he will hear none of it because it was a lovely surprise, just shitty circumstances), and instead you change into an oversized shirt and sweatpants to enjoy a completely normal (and not sexual at all) night on the couch.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7 inches, thick, no complaints <3

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH!!! This man is thinking about sex 24/7, and if he could, his hands would be on you at all times.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Most of the time I think he stays up for a while, just hanging out and talking to you. But if he comes home after a long shift he’s fucking GONE in 5 minutes tops.

Likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this! Or I would love to hear y’alls thoughts on any of the prompts<33

Also let me know if there’s any other character you’d like me to do this for (not just 911 characters)!

[oddlittlestories]

So I have finished season 1 of d20 fantasy high (freshman year).

First of all I am SO sad it was so short. Like the episodes were long, I’m cool there. I’m just sad it only felt like half a season at most. Just as things were warming up it was over.

Moping aside—I LOVED IT I LOVED IT I LOVED IT

I think I’ve said before that it feels like the way I run DnD campaigns but it *does*

Brennan Lee Mulligan is 100% on the side of the players and characters. Like he’s rooting for them 100%

And as things develop it is also clear that this story is built around the characters and not the other way around

Like I totally get why people love actual plays that are Dramatic and Big and Intricate and Epic Fantasy

But I spent most of my time as a player dreaming of a game that was structured around the PCs instead of us just having to play within the DMs world. It’s what I bring as a DM and it’s so the vibe FH gives me.

And it’s improvised! Like I can tell! Brennan Lee Mulligan obviously spends an enormous amount of time planning, it’s true. But when it comes to the moment, if something else is better—he does that!

Generic characters get turned into genuine NPCs. Like. There’s no way that the halfling family were meant to be anything more than a bit part. There’s just not. They remind me at the start of that little Dutch family in the commercial about learning English—the cute, polite ones dancing to the deeply explicit song. And then the players get invested. Ask if they’re gonna make it, if they’re okay, etc etc

And Brennan’s first response has such “that’s not our story” vibes.

And then he rethinks and he brings them back to check on the kids. And at some point he either thought “ooh this is gonna be funny” or “what kind of person would actually go pick up a group of kids fighting a gang to the death in the street?” And he just amps it up to eleven. It’s great.

And that whole halfling encounter leads to the ice cream shop with the super vivid ice cream elemental character. Did Brennan have that character in his back pocket? Possibly. He could’ve developed a bunch of shops in town. But I’ll tell you that I’ve improvised characters that my players found just as memorable. And now they’re going for ice cream again so it’s gonna be A Thing

And then T-Bone, the bouncer! There is no way this character was meant to be anything other than a bit obstacle, and now he works at their school. Because it was important to the PCs. I’ve seen any number of DMs, actual play and otherwise, who shut that stuff down. “Oh no the school isn’t really appropriate.” “You don’t think this will get anywhere with Goldenhorde.” Or finding another job posting to shuttle the character off. But the players want it so the players get it.

And Brennan is constantly throwing out these little details that just beg for character empathy. T-Bone’s sick dog. How the necromancer kid loved his little rat, named himself after emancipation, and wanted so desperately for the cemetery caretaker to like him. Those throwaway lines about Johnny Spells’ gang- “how’s his home life? It’s–it’s bad!” and “yeah they all had names, and backstories [starts listing them off]”

I’ve never seen another actual play where the players and DMs have DnD bits. Where it’s like. Funny but also we’re taking it seriously.

Idk. I’m probably not describing it the best but it’s just exactly how I love to play & run games and it feels so Genuine to my experiences where most actual plays just don’t connect

Also I love love love the characters and story

[brucewaynehater101]

I once read a fic where dick, Jason and Tim are not human and that Damian and Bruce are the only humans (Alfred doesn't count) in the manor basically the fic was about how bruce took care of non human dick jason and tim and when damin came he had issues with them but came to accept them in the end and that got me thinking an au where the batfam are not human except bruce. like hes the only FULLY human in the family. like the in the fic dick was a doll that cam to life, but i also read somewhere that dick was a tentacle monster thing because of hugs (i dont remember it well because i read it when i was half asleep) Jason probably had something to do with gotham, like all the chemicals made him immune to most things and also being in the streets probably messed up his health and also he might be born? Made? Not human and that was before he DIED and was dipped in the Lazarus pit, which probably has supernatural consequences, and made him even more not human. Tim was probably cursed by an artifact that his parents brought home when he was young or he was just born (maybe bred, I'm pretty sure rich people can breed their own child) that way that makes people question if he is human or a sickly Victorian child in the wrong era, he also must be good with the shadows if he can follow batman around (and we are not yet talking about his age is he forever 17 or did he age, if so how old is he?)

Steph is the child of a supervillain and is probably an ally kid, so she is kinda similar to Jason but with more drugs and the spoiler thing. (i dont have any idea with her) Cass was probably trained and experimented by David Cain to act the way she does (nobody know if she's human or not and it freaks people out) Damian probably was the most human among Bruce children as he is made by his DNA, but if he was also dipped in the Lazarus pit then maybe there's a chance that's he's not human, but that can just be league training. Duke has powers and was living in the streets when is parents got joker gassed and was also living in the zero year when riddler was mayor and made a we are robin movement (sorry if i got his character wrong) Nobody knows actually if Damian and Cass are human as they possessed abilities that no Normal human can like blending in the shadows too well that that can't be seen (even when it's a light shadow you can't see them unless they want to be seen) but they were also trained assassin's and maybe those were the consequences of their childhood (at least most heroes or people hope)

The same can be said to the others, dick can perfectly blend in the shadows and when he fights he tends to pull stunts that no normal human can pull (does he even have bones how can he bend like that). Jason is like a tank and somehow is quieter than he looks, he can be stabbed and will still keep fighting like nothing happened. Tim doesn't sleep and he lost his spleen and still doing okay. Steph knows where to go, Cass can read you like a book and can probably kick superman's ass without a sweat, Damian was raised by demons and duke can bend the shadows to his will.

And somehow some way

BRUCE IS STILL HUMAN

like this man gets fear-gassed in the face, poison ivy's multitude of poisons, joker gassed. and whatever gotham throws at him while running a company and getting little to no amount of sleep and still function like a normal human being while actually BEING 100% human. and it just confuses the kids a lot (sorry if the English is bad. English is my secondary language and most of the time i speak my first language which is Filipino and I'm typing this on my laptop while most of my family are sleeping. and most of these points are from my drafts, my only saving garce is autocorrect )

You're perfectly alright. No worries at all ^^

To summarize, you want to think about an AU where Bruce is human and the rest of the Bats are not? We can definitely explore that, but first, I think I know what fics you were talking about.

For the Dick is a doll one, I can't find it. It's making me sad cause it was a great one of Bruce continuously adopting kids that others want to harm/kill due to their nature. Just Bruce fighting against his instincts so he can provide them love. It's cute.

For the Dick has weird hugging abilities, I think "you can swear in my hoard" by Inkpotsprite is the fic you were thinking about. Tim and Dick are the only confirmed non-humans, though.

For a fic where the batkids are born as a variety of angels or demons and Bruce is a human, the "heaven sent//hell bent" series by AstraEllis is good.

There's other ones, but feel free to reblog/comment suggestions.

As far as the AU, I agree that Bruce pushes his body past what's considered human limits (they all do). It would be funny if the JL had discussions about that in confusion (the humans and non humans trying to figure out how he manages to do everything he does without powers).

If you want to create an AU going over specifically what each batkid could be if they were non-human, let me know!

EDIT: A commentor revealed the fic name for the doll one!!! "You, Me, and the Humanity in Between" by JUBE514

[kiirotoao]

Navigating Concessions: The Case Against and For Byler

Alright, so this sounds insane coming from a Byler, I know. But just to really tease out all of the reasons why I like/ship Byler, I want to try something. (I’ve also been receiving a small influx of questions arguing against Byler, so that’s where this idea came from.)

I’m going to try to examine some moments that raise questions amidst Mike and Will’s relationship and try to explain them as if there’s nothing romantic going on. Nothing. After that, I’m going to go into why I do see things as potentially romantic.

1. “It was a seven.” (s1)

Well, obviously nothing’s going on, here. It’s the first 8 minutes of the show, and we’re just establishing the characters. The purpose of this scene was to show that Will is honest, and it’s nothing new to Mike. Showing Mike’s reaction is to emphasize just that - this is a normal occurrence, and he has no idea what’s going to happen next.

The thing about this scene that I love is that it’s simple and to-the-point. It’s true! Nothing is happening here, not yet, and that’s the point. Even in normalcy, Will trusts Mike. Even though this is a setup of what’s about to happen to Will, this ends up being the defining point of Will’s character that allows us to root for him. I can agree that nothing romantic is necessarily happening here, but it’s really sweet that the show decided to start here with the two of them over anyone else in The Party.

2. “Crazy together.” (s2)

In this scene, they’re literally talking about the Mind Flayer and El. It’s not about themselves. To say that this is a true heart-to-heart is not genuine. They’re confiding in each other after Will went through a bad episode and Mike is simply empathizing with him. To say that entrusting in someone with your deepest secrets is romantic is untrue, because friends do it all the time. This was probably included just to show how Mike and Will dealt with their traumatic experiences.

This is already getting painful and I regret everything. So the biggest counter point I know for this scene is that indeed, Mike brings up El. Therefore, his mind is on her, right? Well, it’s actually a lot more fleeting than that. He brings her up, but he immediately drops it and focuses on Will right after. Subject matter is often used as a point of contention for Byler/Mleven because the topic is always Mleven, but this time, it’s just plainly untrue. Mike and Will are talking about this encounter with the Mind Flayer, and Mike is empathizing with Will by bringing up a situation similar to his through El. He thinks of her as a claim to his main point, being there for Will. Mike is sweetly giving his time and his comfort to Will, and they’re both being vulnerable about their fears. You simply cannot deny their vulnerability to each other that’s uniquely theirs. This exploration and presentation of intimate traumas is so sweet of them to confide in each other.

3. The shed scene (s2)

This scene is heartbreaking. Will is possessed, here. We don’t know if he can fully hear Mike, evidently because he’s struggling to express himself. Everyone is fighting to get Will back from the Mind Flayer. This moment is sweet as it sheds (haha) light on Mike and Will’s origin story as best friends for years, which doesn’t include anything romantic of the sort. It’s just a retelling of them meeting on a swingset and choosing to be best friends. It’s cute, but it’s nothing much more than that. Plus, Mike is speaking alongside Will’s family, so he’s directly parallel to family in this sequence.

First and foremost to counter this - guess who isn’t here? Dustin and Lucas, who definitely have memories of Will in their lives, right? But no, neither of them are there. They’re needed to transcribe the Morse code that Will taps while Mike is there, in the fray, giving his all to fight for Will. And Mike is in tears. This scene tugs at the heart because it remains one of the most vulnerable moments Mike has ever shown onscreen. And yes, Will may not fully hear him, but Will is trying. Mike is the third person he’s hearing from, and it’s clear that Will is in a state of struggle. He’s not given up, not succumbed to the power of the Mind Flayer just yet. Will almost cries, too. We only see his face fully harden again when Joyce speaks to him after this scene with Mike. I love this scene because of how emotional it is. Mike is doing everything he can to keep Will present, loving him alive alongside the two people who’ve raised him. To me, this isn’t simply a display of Mike being like family, it’s a display of Mike’s intimacy with Will that’s just as strong as the other people who’ve loved him his entire life.

4. The rain scene (s3)

This one seems obvious and plain enough, Mike and Will don’t get each other. They’re arguing, disagreeing about what teenage-hood is, and they both very clearly define it differently. Mike comes to Will trying to understand him, arguing that he’s just prioritizing his girlfriend at this point in life and that he can’t pay attention to everything that he once did. In contrast, Will says that he just wants thing to stay the same with The Party together, playing D&D, having fun like they used to. He and Mike are no longer on level ground. When Mike says, “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls,” it’s the final indication that he knows that he himself likes girls and that they cannot be on the same field since Will doesn’t appear to want the same things that he does and can’t relate to Mike because he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Mike also continues to talk about El and how he clearly prioritizes her. Will just isn’t growing up the same as Mike and Mike clearly isn’t into Will. He hasn’t been all season. He’s just spelling that out here since Will prompted him to.

On the surface, they’re separating. At the core, they’re not on the same level. But underneath, they’re just trying to learn what the other wants. Once again, if this was meant to highlight the separation of the friend group, where are Dustin and Lucas? Dustin’s far away, but Lucas could have come in. He’s right there at the Wheeler’s house. But no, he’s not there. This is a scene between Mike and Will alone as they defeatedly explain why they’re upset as a final plea to each other. Will starts it, Mike carries it. Just like the “crazy together” scene, this is an exclusive moment between them as they share what’s on their hearts, and El is on Mike’s mind as an added point to his perspective compared to Will’s. I’m always so fascinated by Mike’s wording because by saying “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls,” he emphasizes Will’s lack of attraction rather than lack of a romantic relationship which raises a question to me of why Mike would peel back that layer in the first place. It’s not answered fully here, but it raises the question nonetheless, and to ignore that and say it’s just Mike merely drawing a line of differentiation between them is shallow. All in all, yes, they don’t get each other. But that’s why we have this scene, because they’re trying to find out, and based on the way their breaks in conversation leaven them both rather stunned, maybe they know each other more than meets the eye.

5. “Not possible.” (s3)

This scene lasts, like, ten seconds long. It’s far too insignificant to analyze, and anyone who does is looking way too deeply into the subtext. This scene highlights that Mike and Will are still friends and still can very much miss each other like anyone would when a close friend is moving away. It’s a sealant to their once broken relationship to set up their friendship continuing on and that the both of them still like D&D and that the game as well as The Party as a whole will continue to be relevant to the story. If anything, this moment sets up that Will is in love with Mike as only he makes the promise to not join another party, showing his loyalty to Mike that Mike does not explicitly reciprocate. This entire thing was included in the show to give the audience a breath of closure for them this season and show that they still are close. This one hurt to write, too. Holy shit.

The show very well could have shown us that Mike and Will’s relationship was still intact through the hug sequences during Hopper’s letter, but nope, we get another exclusive Mike and Will moment. Once again, Dustin and Lucas are pointedly not here, making this not about The Party but them in it. And this time, it’s through the thing they argued about and both still clearly wanted to commit to, further disproving the idea that Mike has grown up way faster than Will and was truly ready to ditch D&D. Mike even brings up joining another party first. Will simply replies to him. And the smiles that they give each other are so sweet. Comparing how Mike is left confused and frowning when El leaves him to this little glowing smirk when Will leaves him is insane. Will makes Mike smile; it’s a tiny flirt that can go unnoticed, but the brevity helps not to call out too much unneeded attention to it, otherwise, would them flirting for minutes on end seem appropriate after the reality that they’re parting ways and helping the Byers move out? I don’t think so. Still, it’s rather key to me that they filmed this exchange between the sadness. It’s a breath of closure alright, one that looks up on their relationship.

6. The airport scene (s4)

This scene is so undeniably awkward. There’s literally nothing romantic about two friends reuniting like this. It’s strained, Will’s lying here about the painting being “nothing,” and Mike makes terse and disinterested remarks. He’s clearly not focused on Will. Just before this, by contrast, he was able to kiss El, hug her, and he gave her flowers. This puts a gap between Mike and Will to set up how they become “best friends” again later on, setting them apart on a journey of growth that stays platonic. It’s pretty obvious that Mike doesn’t really care about Will right then.

This scene is undeniably awkward. But y’know who Mike isn’t awkward around? Literally everyone else in his life. He can hug everyone he loves except for Will. And yes, he kissed El, but it’s been established that they kissed a lot the summer before and can do that instinctively, and yet Mike cannot write that “love, Mike.” Will then responds with doubt upon seeing Mike so closed off to him, not wanting to give away something that Mike may not accept or treat well even after so much hard work has been put into it. It’s a moment of testing the waters, and yeah, Mike doesn’t pass the vibe check, but it helps to set up how differently Mike actually thinks very exclusively regarding Will: “Hawkins, it’s not the same without you.” If Mike simply didn’t care and they started from the bottom, why is he talking about home and being a team literally two days after this with Will alone? This scene sets up not just a growth of friendship but of the bond these two have that not even awkwardness or ignoring it can deny.

7. The apology scene (s4)

So now we get to the days after the awkwardness. Being back together, Mike is able to see how rude he was and how much he still values Will. These two are unstoppable when it comes to overcoming dangers, and Mike knows that. He simply misses his friend who’s been through so much together with him. He brings up platonic terms like “team” and “best friends,” clearly wanting Will back in his life as just that, a best friend by his side. Best friends reconcile after bad arguments all the time. This was finally making up for not seeing their forgiveness after last season’s fight. This scene highlights their maturity to understand wrongs and overcome self-doubt, establishing their working together for the rest of the season to come.

Alright, I couldn’t even pretend to deny their togetherness in the concession. Because seriously, no one can tell me that this scene wasn’t romantic. Mike, completely and admittedly unprompted (re: “oh, I didn’t say it” “you didn’t have to”), comes into Will’s room, shuts the door and establishes privacy before he lays down his heart not only at the Rink-O-Mania but for the “year” before it and how Hawkins isn’t the same without Will. Yes, he mentions platonic terms, and yes, he never says “god, I needed you” or “I love you,” but did he have to? The intimacy and visually private moment is so very clearly written between these two alone. You don’t get these types of moments often between mere platonic characters. This type of outpouring is written and framed with a closeness that’s almost uncomfortable for the audience. Just look at how they react to each other. They’re on the verge of tears, happy, relieved, and excited to be back together as a unit. It’s a sure sign of Mike’s maturity as he doesn’t just brush this off or play it down in a merely friendly way. This is focused, this is only for Will. It’s a reconciliation as well as a promise. Again, no, it’s not openly romantic, but it sure as hell serves as an example that Mike can be vulnerable and tenderhearted to Will just as Will gives grace to him.

So, I mean, I don’t know. Are there any arguments I missed? Because I remain pretty unshaken. Byler’s endgame and all the setup is there despite the concessions.

[yannaryartside]

Carmy has been a victim of gaslight his whole life

gifs by @robertacolndrez

So, the definition of gaslight, according to this site, is:

 "Psychological manipulation of a person usually over an extended period of time that causes the victim to question the validity of their own thoughts, perception of reality, or memories and typically leads to confusion, loss of confidence and self-esteem, uncertainty of one's emotional or mental stability, and a dependency on the perpetrator."

According to Forbes Health, this are some of the things you experience when you are being constantly gaslighted.

Anxiety

Depression

Disorientation

Lowered self-esteem

Post-traumatic stress disorder

A hyperbolized fear of danger, known as hypervigilance

I want to zoom off that last one; remember when Carmy told in the group sharing session that he had to remember himself that the world was not falling? That he had to remember himself to breathe?

If we take "Fishes" as a basis to understand the family dynamics as they grow up (and I think we should), then we can get a pretty good idea of how much Carmy's feelings and thoughts were discredited growing up.

When he speaks up about how much shit they are giving him about his profession, Donna and Mickey attack him in the group to make them say "I love you," basically telling him that it doesn't matter that they make him feel like shit; Carmy is supposed to love them no matter what. I assume this is the answer he got every time he spoke up about boundaries being crossed, or maybe he was just so intimidated by his much larger and loud older brother or his aggressive mother. We can get traces of this trauma every time he gets insulted to his face in the show; it was so bad that it was Pete of all people who had to defend him (it is very telling that is Pete because to everyone else, insulting Carmy and him having to just take it seem to be a normal occurrence, Donna made it that way). It was the only way to keep the peace and the family functioning. Clining to the love he could take in the "good moments."

Here are some ways the most important people of his life had gaslight Carmy:

Donna seems to have a preference for Mickey over Carmy, a preference he is aware of but never understands why. Donna will throw "forks" of random aggression at Carmen, and he can never fight back. As a child, he was forced to think there was something wrong with him because that is the way a kid's mind works.

Mickey lied to him about why he cast him out and hid his addiction. Ignored Carmy's calls and then acted like Carmy (who was alone in a different city and in a very mentally aggressive industry) was making a big deal about it. Carmy wanted support, and Mickey (probably the only real parent figure he ever had) was making him feel shit about it.

gifs by @thoughtfulchaos773

When he confronted it about it, Carmy couldn't even look his brother in the face; that is how much deep down Carmy was intimidated by him. Mickey also never gave him a final answer about their dream restaurant. With time, the breach between the brothers got so big that the only call he ever received about Mickey was to inform him of his death.

gifs by @espumado

Richie, Mickey, and others started to tell him about who he should date. It seems like they still intend to make decisions for him on that front. (Fuck Fak and Richie). They knew Carmys had a crush on Claire at some point and were weaponizing his emotions; Mickey probably did it to compensate for how much of a shy brother he had been. It is possible they ver wanted Claire for themselves.

And then, you have Claire, that absolute promisse of uncomplicated love and affection. She doesn't necessarily gaslight Carmy, but she definitely has infantilized him in a couple of instances. Aka, this post.

That kind of game from Claire, suggesting to somebody else what they should think or say, is not acceptable either. When a person does that, they are aware they are doing it; it doesn't matter if they think it is harmless or not. Toxic behavior and ignoring boundaries don't stop being toxic because you have love/affection for the other person.

The fact that a victim of gaslight like Carmy is accepting this treatment, a person who had to go with what people wanted from him his whole life, feeling he had to adapt to receive love, because otherwise there was something wrong with him (Donna), makes it all worse. Carmy has associated (subconsciously) accepting insulting scenarios as part of a relationship with a loved one. With Claire, he accepts being infantilized and guided into saying the things she wants him to say. Yikes all around. I am not saying Claire is or would abuse Carmy, but this dynamic's undertone is not pretty.

I hate to end this on a shipper note, but for me, this all goes back to Sydney. Since the beginning, Syd is the only person who has established clear intentions with him and followed through with them. She does it when she says she wants something or will do something. Why does this "best friend" woman seem to have a less toxic approach to their relationship than his own girlfriend? That shit cannot be unintentional. Camy and Syd established in s2 that they could argue while recognizing their responsibility for the argument. No antagonizing, no lies, no manipulation.

[danieyells]

I also thought of the janitor too and have the theory of the scene of him eating apples and how he refers to the mc and apples as sweet + the parallelism of apples with the Adam and eve and everyone knows how it goes form there.

Second theory is more crack than anything but it's darkwick as an institution, like c'mon y'all's logo is a Big D inside a shield with what almost looks like horns, at one point it's almost too on the nose

@yuri-is-online

you are both making it sound like the janitor has appeared or been mentioned more than once and i'm losing my mind DID I MISS OR FORGET SOMETHING IS THIS MY TAIGA BRAIN AGAIN I DON'T REMEMBER HARU MENTIONING THE JANITOR OR HIM EATING APPLES. . . .

but yeah i don't trust darkwick so much anymore(or at least not cornelius and the japan branch of the institute and jin's father--not that i trusted jin's father at all) but LMAO THE LOGO IS A D WITH HORNS. I mean I'm pretty sure they're cat ears and the diamond inside the D is a cat eye but THEY LOOK LIKE HORNS LBR.

tbf though. these are Obscuary and Sinostra's and they look pretty sinister too.

Like DW is definitely bad guys, if only because they've got shitty judgement and they're restrictive towards the ghouls and treat them with such suspicion that the ghouls feel trapped at darkwick and like they won't even be able to escape the institute when they graduate and it's going to be a 'you're committing human rights violations' thing BUT. i think that's going to be a more minor and yet overarching issue compared to the spy plot and the prophecy plot and all.

then again. Cornelius insists that ghouls are naturally more aggressive than humans(this is rarely true) so it's entirely possible the spy intends to make the ghouls fight to like. test them and their strength and such. some sort of experiment to learn more about how the ghouls work/think/socialize/etc. It'd be easier for them to observe the ghouls on campus than off, so if they become troublesome and miserable, that's prime study opportunity!!! Which again ties back into 'the spy probably works for darkwick/the institute'. . . .

[maevecrom]

RHYS AND FEYRE ARE MORALLY GREY CHARACTERS

(in response to an ask)

Definition of a Morally Grey Character: A character that is neither good nor bad;no motivation to do good or bad actions. They, instead, follow their own ambition rather than those of the greater good or evil. Due to their goals being detached from those attributes, they could be intrinsically vicious or virtuous if their character’s values align with their objectives. However, morally ambiguous characters may still strive to impact their world positively or negatively in some manner.

Everything Rhys and Feyre has done has fallen under this definition in some way. They are not good or bad. They try to be virtuous, but they follow their own objectives which could, to some people, consider them immoral.

Rhys Examples:

Pregnancy: His only intention was to protect Feyre and keep her as happy as possible, but his action in keeping medical information from her may deem him immoral. However, he didn’t do so viciously or with malicious intent.

UtM: Regardless of what many people say about what he did UtM and his abuse, we can all agree it was not done with harmful intent. Some may deem it unnecessary (which I discuss a bit more in another post https://www.tumblr.com/maevecrom/751672804972412928/you-accuse-nesta-of-abuse-but-love-rhysand-and?source=share), but I'd also argue that they were in a high-stress, dangerous environment. Rhys committed many crimes in general, but none of it was willing and many of which were done mercifully. In Feyre's case, his only goal was to keep her alive, and sometimes that means putting someone in uncomfortable situations. Feyre, herself, said she understood why he was doing what he did long before they formed a connection. Readers know none of it was with bad intent, just probably poorly executed compared to what a morally-good character would do.

Feyre’s Examples:

SC: Her only intention was to show the people what kind of leader Tamlin was. Truthfully, all she did was defend a sentry and kill the twins who were actively trying to mind control Tamlin and Lucien. Her objectives were virtuous by trying to protect his people (who, btw, were described as poor multiple times while tamlin's home was lavish and covered in gold, but still had to pay tithe), as well as Lucien and the sentries (who were actively being punished and abused because Tamlin didn’t like being questioned). In the end, many may see what she did as immoral because she reacted in the name of revenge, but the actions she took only held positive intents.

Nesta and the HoW: Reading back through the first couple of chapters, it's clear Nesta was not doing well. A lot of people I've talked to have argued she didn't have an addiction because she didn't go through withdrawal, but not everyone experiences those symptoms. And even if she wasn't an alcoholic, the methods in which she were drinking, to withhold her ptsd and growing self-hatred, would describe her plummeting towards that path. If it wasn't the alcohol that would ruin her, it was her mental health. And you don't need to be a genius to be able to see someone is in trouble. Feyre locking Nesta up in the HoW was not done with ill intent, though the method is questionable to many people. But I'd like to point out that if Nesta was as isolated as Feyre was, she never would've met Gwyn and Emerie, she never would've found the trove, she never would've participated in the Blood Rite, and she never would've become a Valkyrie. You can admit it's questionable while also admitting it was far different from Tamlin locking Feyre up.

People don’t like to call them morally grey characters because then it’s much harder to criticize them. A lot of readers, however, would happily call someone like Zade Meadows (a r@pist) morally grey because there’s no widespread hatred or competition. If Zade Meadows can be described as morally grey all because he didn’t “want” to hurt the fmc, then Rhys and Feyre can be labeled as such simply because they did questionable things trying to protect and survive.

[burningfudge]

Ultimates (2024) #1

OHMYGODDD Ultimates #1 was fantastic! I have so many thoughts that I had to turn it into a post lol.

Poor Steve 😂 I'm very interested to see Steve's journey, though, because he's now the captain of a country that doesn't exist. How is he going to navigate that? I'm also looking forward to Steve and Tony's dynamic in this universe because Tony's a kid, which changes things a lot. He's a kid with the burden of the world on his shoulders, trying to undo everything that the Maker did, and Steve knows that as well. Plus, if they know about all the events on Earth-616, they also know about Civil War. I hope it's brought into the conversation soon.

NOOO IS CAROL DEAD?? MY GIRL This is brutal as a Captain Marvel and Hawkeye fan. Spider-Man is thriving for now (surprising, I know), but Carol is probably dead, and Clint has given up being Hawkeye. But even Spider-Man was near rejection as Peter was thinking about giving up until his daughter convinced him to be Spider-Man. The Maker really fucked up this universe, huh. I'd love for a certain archer to find the uniform and take up the Hawkeye mantle and then Clint to get inspired by Kate in this universe. I think it'd be a fun twist, especially since Tony also mentioned that they can find near-perfect substitutes. He eventually realized his mistake later on the issue, but I really do think Kate could have a big role to play.

Hehe, a fun little wink to Tony eventually becoming Kang the Conquerer.

This version of Tony is so interesting to me because he’s a kid, and making him the center of all this works very well because of it, especially his relationships with Reed and Steve. Reed is more pragmatic and cold, while Steve is idealistic, and seeing both of them influence Tony is fantastic. Tony himself is more idealistic than his 616 version because he’s much younger. Steve grounds the two and makes Tony and Reed understand that whatever they're doing isn't an experiment but a revolution.

While I love all the other characters, the standout in this issue for me was Hank Pym, which I didn't expect. He knows what kind of person he turned to be on Earth-616 and he doesn't want to turn out that way. I think that's a very compelling story arc.

Ahh, I love this. What Steve says is right; Hank can choose to be different. It's also interesting if we compare Peter and Hank because, in Ultimate Spider-Man, we're told that Peter always felt that something was missing from his life, and then he learned the truth about what the Maker did and became Spider-Man, which fulfilled his life. On the other hand, Hank was happy running an extermination business with his wife. (How Janet went from rich heiress to this is also something I'm wondering). Hank was happy, but now he's being told he was supposed to become Ant-Man, create Ultron, and hit his wife, whom he loves more than anything. I felt bad for him, honestly.

616 Tony should say this to his father, too lol. But this part is probably my favorite part of the issue because of the insight it gives us into Tony's mind, who is the center of the new Ultimate universe. As I've mentioned many times, Tony is a teenager in a world run by fascists, a world that his father was complicit in making. He's angry at Howard, but he also loves him. I think an argument could be made about Tony representing today's generation that's also dealing with the effects of (poor) decisions made by our parents and grandparents, and feeling the anger from it. "It's quite a mess you made, Dad. And now we have to clean it up. What choice do we have?" "If there's any hope of fixing things...it won't be enough to be as good as the heroes of that simpler world. We'll have to be better. I don't know what that looks like yet. But we're going to figure it out." "You were the smartest man in the world. You should've known better. And that is failure.”

[anghraine]

I've been moving and navigating further departmental nonsense etc (my pseudo-dissertation got approved for defending, though! l o l). But it was interesting to see the Worst P&P Takes poll I reblogged accumulating more results and the general tenor of responses in the notes.

I mean, the results are definitely to be expected if you're familiar with the side of Austen fandom doing a lot of the reblogging etc. But still, interesting!

Many Tumblr polls specify that they're asking about personal preferences that may be irrational—favorite/least favorite, coolest/most annoying, or something like that. This one, though, asked for the worst interpretation of P&P, not the most annoying one—and the current leader is "Darcy is never really proud, he's just shy and probably has anxiety" against some very steep competition on the Bad Takes front.

I was thinking about why that seemed a kind of tediously predictable choice even though I agree that the take is wrong, and realized that while I do disagree with the shy Darcy interpretation and I particularly disagree with the specific formulation where he is never proud at all, it ultimately feels to me like a failure of nuance rather than just completely wrongheaded like some of the others. And this is probably my fundamental difference with a lot of Darcy takes I see!

In my opinion, a character who is introverted and who feels awkward in various social situations and who doesn't like common social activities and who has to work himself up to talking to his crush and who is repeatedly suggested to behave very differently in contexts where he's more comfortable being interpreted as shy and anxious is not that big of a leap.

Yes, it's important that he is actually fundamentally confident and haughty, that he makes his personal feelings of discomfort other people's problem, and that he thinks he's such a unique and special butterfly that he doesn't need to even put in an effort outside his personal social circle. But it's a misreading that is easy to follow (and long predates the 2005 P&P, as I've mentioned before!).

The additional misreading that a shy and anxious Darcy is also never proud at all is a much more drastic leap, and in my experience, condemnations of shy Darcy interpretations rarely differentiate between "Darcy is shy as well as arrogant" and "Darcy is shy rather than arrogant" as interpretations (although their basic arguments are quite different). But even that as the worst possible misreading of P&P when Darcy is not even the main character is ?????????

I mean, for one alternative (not even the one I voted for!), the idea that Elizabeth is an author avatar Mary Sue seems a far worse misreading of P&P than basically anything to do with Darcy at all. The center piece of the entire novel is Elizabeth's epiphany of self-knowledge about her own shortcomings that do not particularly resemble Austen's at all, but were ethically a concern for her, and she's a complex, interesting character in general whom Austen correctly regarded as a major achievement. Inverting that into Elizabeth as an improbably perfect, reality-warping self-insert is deeply wrong and frankly pretty misogynistic as well.

(ngl though, it's a little funny to see such a blatantly terrible reading of Elizabeth rank so far behind the shy Darcy votes. I've gotten "does anyone actually think/say that?" so many times on my posts about Austen fandom's prioritization of Darcy's character development over Elizabeth's and yet...)

And even just going with the Darcy-centric misreadings, the idea of Darcy as a "bad boy" seems easily the most absolutely wrong take on him. His pride is at least complicated and the finer points can be fairly debated and it's a quality that actually changes somewhat throughout the novel, and you can have discussion over what happened when, whose testimonies should be weighted more, etc. But there is no point at which "bad boy" isn't utterly wrong for him. However, there's definitely a tendency in some wings of the fandom to find the idea of Darcy being misread too favorably more objectionable than him being read too unfavorably, regardless of the particulars, so it's not a surprise.

I suppose you could argue about what "worst" means in the context of variously bad interpretations. Like, is an interpretation that is about a fairly trivial aspect of the book but extremely wrong about it "worse" than an interpretation that is pretty bad but at least comprehensibly so about something very important?

[cloud-navi]

⚠️ spoilers ⚠️

My thoughts on:

Camp Cretaceous season one

Darius

Feels pretty basic, not bad. Understandable feelings of grief from his dad.

Kenji

Loud enough to hear considered obnoxious, but I counter that with: Daddy issues (obvious from the start, very happy they pulled that around for season 2 and Chaos Theory).

Darius and Kenji

In episodes 1 and 2 they both get in trouble and Darius takes the blame for it after Kenji admits that all he’s really done/wanted was to make his dad proud. Darius gets angry because Kenji “lied” about wanting to make his dad proud, but really, thats not a lie. Kenji, (assumption) is likely an only child, with no mention of his mom, and his dad is extremely neglectful and manipulative. Only showing attention to Kenji when he wants something from his son, or use him as a tool as seen in season five. Kenji didn’t lie about wanting to make his dad proud, making his dad proud get him the attention that he rightfully deserves a human being and as a child. lonely children like Kenji tend to act out because they want the attention that they aren’t getting when they need it, attention is very important during development and neglect leaves emotional scars and affect how they behave. I think Darius, as an adolescent didn’t quite understand that point of view because he sees Kenji, how Kenji wants Darius to see him. Overly confident, laidback, cool. So Darius, who also had a wonderful relationship with his dad, didn’t have the insight of “Lack of parental support/attention = Lack of self-worth/masking as someone cooler then (they think) themself even if that means a few lies.” Except, he didn’t lie. His mask cracked, he told the truth. Anyone with neglectful parents can tell you, before you start resenting your parents neglectfulness, you resent yourself for “not being good enough,” blaming yourself, just wanting to make them proud (✋).

Because his behavior stems from neglect, it also dictates the way he’s acting in season five, which is some thing the other characters seem to struggle with understanding and having empathy. Darius and Ben are probably the youngest in the group, so they may not pick up on those signals, They should still be in developing their empathy and understanding other peoples experiences than a five year old. Out of all of the main characters, I only give Brooklyn a pass. it feels really shitty that your friend is doing some thing that y’all are all against and have been against for almost a year, but you need to understand. They are not focusing that they are focusing on getting some thing they have been deprived of since they were young (parental love, and engagement), which is a very valid reason to have tunnel vision. I also don’t like how Mai the researcher in season five, didn’t point it out to them in a way that they would understand Kenji‘s position, but I also don’t remember if she had the chance to. Will come back to that later.

Ben

Literally my favorite cinnamon roll baby in season one, I adore his relationship to bumpy. Ump is a fucking angel. And I like how they bring a few of the seasons down to the wire with bumpy near the crossfire. It’s a good way to keep bumpy as a main side character.

Yasmina

Also kind of flat, not much to say. She’s more introverted doesn’t talk to people as much doesn’t like to be on camera, really shy, with trust issues. I understand why she feels betrayed when she finds out Sammy did lie, but also for her age (15) I think it’s both reasonable and irrational for her to lack in understanding and having empathy as to why Sammy was doing what she did. Reasonable for her to feel that way, considering she has issues with trust. But also irrational to disregard Sammy’s motive for what was happening. 

Brooklyn

Not many notes on Brooklyn either, though it’s clear that she also hasn’t had much real social interaction, considering her whole career started since she was like 10 (mentioned in season two) so she hasn’t had much real socialization outside of the Internet. I understand why she’s angry with Sammy when her phone is taken, and when it is proven after everyone has told her to shut up about it so many times before. However, just like Yasmina, I think she needs to chill out with blaming Sammy. You might not have known why at the time, but what Sammy was doing was pretty understandable in my opinion based on her character and what her experience. Being upset was reasonable, but blaming Sammy for the events at Isla and not being able to get off the island, was completely irrational considering who do you think was gonna pick up the phone? Do you think they were going to get there in time? Do you think they would Believe the probability of their survival was high enough that they would send a team when there was a huge evacuation of an giant park and you weren’t even at the park. I think they’re being unreasonable at the time, it’s not like Phone would’ve charged enough, or the fact that when the island lost power, it’s a no fly zone and there is no service (revealed season 2).

Sammy

I can see why she could be considered obnoxious, but more so just allowed and bubbly person. I like Sammy I can understand her motive, and what she was doing, if I believed in myself that much to complete those tasks, I would do it too. In her position, her family was on the verge of losing their farm so they got a loan that ended up being really bad people, and left them with the only choice of losing their livelihood or using their daughter as a spy. Sammy has a large heart, and clearly a lot of self assurance, to rationalize her actions based on her motive. Regardless of what was happening on the island I would not be able to stay mad at Sammy. Because when you boil it down, Sammy‘s tasks would not have hurt anyone by her doing. Anything after getting the samples and information going to Manta Cor, would have been Manta Cor’s fault because it was in charge the information. Sammy‘s motives were completely out of love for her family.

Sidenote, when they are in the field in the gyrospheres, I kinda think that was completely on the kids being idiots. Brooklyn and Darius were completely at fault for nearly dying, just as much as every other person was except for Sammy. None of them listened to the person with actual experience, herding animals. Up until Jurassic Park and then Jurassic World, the books that Darius has are probably all just theorized behaviors, it would have been more valuable to listen to someone (Sammy) that has EXPERIENCE herding herbivores. Just saying.



[okaystoptellingmetomakeanaccount]

DCRC Week 1. Translation Troubles

Everyone is going to talk about the story already. Everyone has read the story already. You can find a hundred reviews in probably 10 different languages (mostly Italian) everywhere (mostly papersera). Evroniani is iconic. That’s why I’m going to review the shitty English translation. Or is it shitty? I don’t know! We’re gonna find out today! I have no idea what I’m doing!

C’mon c’mon follow me dear little readers

Now where did i leave it? You know, I haven’t really touched it since i bought it don’t remember how long ago. The memory starts to fade when you become old.

I think it was here. I bought a darkwing comic with it and made my little brother pay for a skylanders comic to remove the shipping costs. I don’t think he has read the Skylanders comic either, but it did save me a few euros on shipping. You could also pick it up at their store or at a comic con that they would be at in a few days or weeks. I don’t remember. The darkwing comic sucked by the way.

Ah look at that! I did read the last page though. With the little translated evronian article. It’s a shame they didn’t translate those to more countries. Those were cool. This one I remember was cute. For the rest i flipped through it and read the introductory pages. All the ‘real new’ content.

And there it is! Beautiful, is it not? I don’t have a lot of American comics, but they are always so fancy. Paper quality is amazing, and in these funny plastic sheets with carton to make sure they stay mint and new and things. When it came in it was incredibly well packed and protected. Unnecessarily so even I would say. But it was really appreciated. Always like it when it’s obvious they did it because they love comics and wanted them to arrive safely. I felt almost a little bad they put so much effort while i bought so little. They sold this thing for €3 you know? I don’t know if they knew how rare these are. I also don’t know how tf it even got all the way from America to them in Zaandam. Was it Zaandam? I don’t remember. No it was not Zaandam. But it was something with a Z. Or not. The memory is bad. Have i said that already?

I think it’s funny that they describe the one-page column as a story. Even inducks wouldn’t do that! They would describe it as an article you know. Anyways. Both ‘stories’ in this issue are translated by Jonathan H. Gray. Absolute legend. I have heard he’s an actual fan of PKNA which is nice. Always makes me happy when people love the work they’re doing. Have i said that already? Have i said that already?

Alright enough with acting like a senile old man. Imma read the story now. Will be back telling what i think of the translation soon. Though for you that means after one line of white pressing enter.

Overall, the translation is fine. The slang and amount of ‘’s didn’t annoy me that much. I do find that the dialogue is overall more childish than the Dutch version. It does more explaining and tries to do all those annoying alliterative amplifiers that the American translators really seem to love for some reason.

Sometimes I do find it more expressive than the Dutch version. Almost all of the banter between Donald and Uno I do very much prefer. It’s a lot more colourful and full of personality. You don’t need a single issue more to believe that these two are friends (lovers). Gray managing to convey that feeling through the dialogue alone is a great show for his talents.

The stylized enhancing or decreasing of the size of some of the letters is fun. Though that’s a lettering thing. Thankfully they credit those too! Great job Deron Bennett!

I do really appreciate all the creative decisions and extra references in the English translation. They do take me a little bit out of the story, but it makes for a fun way to re-experience it.

Sorry, that was a bit of a short review. I’m not a very experienced translation reviewer guys this is my first time.

To make up for it; here some individual parts of the translation and my reactions to them:

found a darkwing duck line coming out of pks mouth (or beak whatever). disgusting.

Btw Freezeflames is also a disgusting name for them Coolflames. they are already coolflamed now you gotta give them a shit name too?

im sorry, who tf is ed?

It seems Jonathan is also a DonOdin shipper.

Overall, good to finally have read the only English PKNA story I own. I might have never done it if it wasn’t for the DCRC! That would have been a shame, because Gray’s translation work does add a few fun things. And like, dude, it’s PKNA in English. Officially. That’s rad. You gotta have experienced that at least once as a fan. I think. I don’t remember. Have i-

Funny thing the American and latest Dutch translations dropped around the same time. The American publication sadly stopped very soon, while the Dutch publications stopped a few months ago (still crying, because the next part of PK Pikappa should have just come out like a week ago or something if they didnt cancel it boohoo whyyyyy agony).