#don't pay attention to the anatomy it's not good lol

[aurriearts]

thinking abt the retri opening scene on the pier

[fearandhatred]

ok so idk if anyone remembers this sketch i posted of angel crowley a while back but i Also colourblocked it and since i will not be finishing it anytime soon i thought i might as well post it too. Here u go

[tawnysoup]

I ADORE your art and how well you match the ISAT artstyle. I've been being alot of studies to try replicate the style and draw characters 3d but stylised. Are there any tutorials that have helped you, studies you do, or things you keep in mind whilst drawing to make the characters look so 3d?

Oooaaahh thank you!!! This is a really good question. I say that because I feel like I "2D cheat" ISAT art a lot. It's very comfy to draw bc my normal art is like that too, with angles that shouldn't be able to exist but look right bc it's 2D so your brain forgives it. Design of the art > accuracy of the anatomy, y'kno?

The hair kind of gives it away in most cases. It's meant to be such a specific shape, it kind of stops looking like the character if it gets too 3D? But drawing it more 3D has huge utility too, especially for animation n stuff. It's just something I've noticed about the style! It's very designed for 2D. It's very "the shape of the lines" > "the shape of the 3D object"

It's helpful to remember that ISAT characters are all made up of really simple shapes. Like Siffrin's head is just a ball from nearly any angle but the side. Their body is a cylinder but one end is wider than the other. Odile's face is a ball but the bottom is long, like an oval. Isa's is a ball but his chin is square, it has soft corners. Even Bonnie's face is a ball you just add a cheek bump. Etc etc.

^Notice how i can't simplify the hat down into a consistent 3D shape bc otherwise it just. kind of. doesn't look like Siffrin's hat LOL

If you have the simple 3D shapes down then the rest of it is all 2D cheating and focussing on details! Having character refs nearby at all times especially when ur tryna figure out how to draw the character is KEY so you can keep looking at it and comparing. Try to pay attention to the little quirks of the art style that differ from yours and try to mimic them. But don't be afraid to let your style infect it a bit if it helps you to create something more dynamic looking.

It helps that i've been drawing for ages. I know 'practice' is the age old advice but here's my spin on it: just draw, keep drawing what u want no matter if it looks bad or if some professional artist tells you you're doing it wrong. So long as you keep drawing you are learning. Indulge and draw what you want so you get to keep all the motivation and keep going.

oh and PUSH YOUR POSES/EXPRESSIONS!!! By this I mean, draw it once, and then lower the opacity and draw it again on top but pushing everything a little bit further. If a pose feels stiff this tends to fix it.

uhmmm i rambled on for ages but i hoped it helped u Tea (or anyone else reading)! thank u for the excuse to draw a bunch of funny isat doodlies :D keep going you have GOT THIS!!! THERE IS NO WRONG WAY TO MAKE OR ENJOY ART! YAY

[tomatoart]

mwah your art is good and nice :>

can I ask for some advice? no worries if u don't want to answer.

do you have any tips on how exactly to practice art? everytime I ask for art advice everyone always says "practice" but idk what to practice first! do you have any strategies for learning how to draw something? do you do excercises? and if so how do they work?and are there any beginner mistakes I should look out for and change specifically?

thank you so much!! have a wonderful week :>

thank you so much! im ok w answering! i dont want to speak as if i am an expert on how to draw things in general as i am learning as well and definitely am not completely learned, so i might not be the best person to ask since im not very professional w my art as I do it as a hobby (and I can only speak on mostly digital cartoon matters) but i reallly hope to try and help u out even a lil ! im really happy that you’re eager to draw :] I wish you so much luck muwah muwah

i also hated when ppl told me “just practice” and i dont wanna inflict tht on u EITHER LOL but also thats just what i ended up doing for awhile but i tried to find some things to help ^_^

tips for practice: My number one rule is that practices should be challenging but still fun, I know it can get frustrating trying to redraw a pose over and over trying to get it perfect. And over time it rlly is all about muscle memory, the longer you draw the more your eyes will pick out specific shapes in everyday life and convert them into its own vision of them! or at least its good to look at life that way, try to pin point key shapes and stress less on details in practices. after you look at key points, THEN you can go over what you have and draw in and over it to make it more “complete.” To stop practices from getting too stressful I recommend starting out drawing what you want a little more simple looking than ur desired finished product. This helps eliminate the pressure of everything not looking “perfect” and keeps your art more loose and fun. Doing this a few times is gonna get ur brain to recognize patterns in art and how things look/flow in anatomy and such. dont get stuck in ur own head abt perfecting everything to the point you either 1) give up bc ur not at a level capable of it being 100% “perfect” or 2) focus so much on making it perfect that you end up saying the work looks “wonky” or stale in dynamics, So while I do think studies help, don’t get too lost in them. I always practice with media I enjoy too, whether it’s characters or fashion I enjoy.

Strategies learning to draw something: people get mad abt this one but I think tracing reference photos is great. its been awhile but When I tried learning to draw hands better at first I would trace them then put the traced image to the side of the canvas, then try and replicate what my mind saw as its most important angles and aspects. Same for clothing folds/hair/etc! I think it’s maybe not the best idea to trace the ref and use the tracings as is, because you learn more from tracing it then trying to replicate and simplify what u learned into the style you’re working in. Find what shapes you like from them and don’t over detail it. you may have to go by eye and think “what parts of this ref photo should i simplify to fit my style” and for me, its usually adjusting the length of the torso and then the limbs by associations. i dont recommend feeling like u need a reference for every art you make though, its ok to let ur own head try out its own sometimes too while trying to learn this, see if it remembers any call bad from the past referenced sketches! over time ull remember where everything goes more, these days i rarely kick myself to use refs but im sure they still would help to use, but figure drawing simple blobby figure in a bunch of random poses was a big thing i used to do as well to get better at full body art + overall dynamics (still does this). also paying attention to silhouettes is great 

Exercises and how they work: I WANNA HELP U SO BAD BUT to be honest, all the works on my blog ARE exercises! i rarely actually do finished pieces, if u scroll thru my posts ull notice most r sketches. i usually just fill up a page and call it “warm ups” then i get attached to some of them, take a few, and just line them up pleasingly on a smaller page, then color them in (or sometimes fix the lines to be more clean too). im not rlly a person who “exercises” to practice, it more so happens from just me drawing a lot for fun as a hobby! but i really should. i will tell u this has humbled me a lil i need to start practicing too 😭 LOL but a good exercise is to look at what ur inspirations do, and study it. Make a collage and write out what you like most abt their styles/what u want to gain from them. For ref Here’s a page I did awhile ago when someone asked me abt my insps:

i also look at fashion magazines and as well as anime figures and take insps from that sometimes with learning cool poses and compositions to convert into my own things

Beginner mistakes to look out for: its hard for me to pin point “mistakes” beginners make, as sometimes we cant avoid all of them or even notice them, progress comes from growing out of old ways. some mistakes are even the foundation of ur future amazing cool style! but i think some things to look out for could be these, from my own old art experiences

Hands were the first thing I learned bc i liked drawing them. I don’t know if that is the best way to go but I think it is smart to practice sooner than later, here is a lil guide thingggyyy wingyyy from awhle ago

i see beginners shy away from drawing signs of age in people, sometimes adding too much detail on an older person in cartoon art makes it look weird, so i try and hit the key markings on ppls faces of age.

Too thin of lines. sometimes its a stylistic choice to use thin lineart, and it can look amazing ! but sometimes it can flatten an image if ur not familiar with its flow. im not saying use thick line art, but more so to keep in mind the weight of ur strokes, adding depth with a thick thin combo of line art can do SO much for the simplest of pieces. heres a visual from a while back when i talked abt my brush + more abt lines:

but if ur desired style is thin lineart that is cool too! tbh it was just harder for me as a beginner

sometimes artists think they need to do full lineart for everything and then hate how it looks compared to the sketch, do not fear i will introduce u to my bff: painting over a sketch, extractinging the lines, then calling it line art. i only do this sometimes but its a fun exercise-ish thing to do in a pinch. example:

finding what shading fits ur art. sometimes ill see ppl starting out who have a style thats very simple, but they use a very detailed rendering process on it. this is not something id ever police of course, art is each persons own choice! And it CAN work. It can be so cute! but sometimes mixing two very contrasting mediums of art can throw off the “put together” look of it. i use to abuse the airbrush tool thinking it made my simple style look super cool and detailed, but looking back on it now those pieces looked a little off, having such a simple style have somewhat more realistic shading. dont get me wrong the ability i see ppl use rendering like that is so insanely talented! but i found cellshading to be a good match for cartoony art like my own. a tip i learned way too late abt that is rather than shading each layer by color picking a darker color, instead use a clipping mask over the entire art (above line art too as I color my lineart) and lasso tool the areas u want shaded + fill it w a saturated purple then set to multiply + lower opacity. also, sometimes coloring can come out chalky looking when u meant for it to be smooth and transitional, i think this comes from overshading and overlighting pieces without reason. pay attention to where the light source is, and focus on making the shaded and lighter areas nice shapes that cover the necessary areas, then u can add additional shading to the smaller details of what should have a casted shadow/light  

its good to spice up ur art now rather than later, focusing making ur art pop more w backgrounds will help ur coloring skills look better too! i dont mean detailed huge backgrounds, a small lil color pallet and design rather than a blank white bg. like this will make u feel better abt it or at least it helped me *sweats* yeah:

beginners tend to draw blank faces like “:)” but I think a good thing to do is try and get silly with expressions early on. It’s okay if the mouth hangs off the face cartoonishly with joy or shock, it’s ok if the eyebrows are super high in surprise.

tracing and pasting it as is (already said this but I’ve seen ppl do it a lot with hair styles and it makes it look alienated from the rest of the style) (final fantasy fans found critically injured) n if need a ref for a pose, using a real humans anatomy as-is doesn’t look quite right on a cartoonyish drawing. Shortening torso and legs usually comes out of this for me!

flip ur canvas i promise u it’ll be less embarrassing over time!

using guidelines for perspective and foreshortening is GREAT. Do it stylistically rather than realistically to add some groove to it...yay. Having silly perspective in art can make it look like a 10 so easily opposed to a normal front facing sketch. Look at cool poses from fashion magazines! Don’t be scared to draw something you don’t feel confident in conveying perfectly, this is why progress redraws exist :)

Drawing the hairline b4 u draw the hair is great, it helps u understand where their hair flows from, where it starts and stops, AND prepares u for drawing bald ppl. Also don’t make the head too big, the skull IS bigger up top, but sometimes I see an alien head affect.

Anatomy is an interesting mistake that beginners make a lot, but it’s one they find harder to notice! When I started out, all my art would be SO wonky, but I didn’t even realize it! It still happens today too! specifically though I see beginners struggle with the arms in this department. My advice is to try and measure them out and make sure they don’t go past the knees, and are the same length as each other when Unfolded. asking for criticism is hard but it helped me realize when i would make something bigger/longer than it should have been in my art, and stuck with me being able to go “oh... i see it LOL” 

clothing wrinkles- do not over do it! Too many wrinkles and shading can look unpleasant and wirey- like a plastic table cloth all bunched up which isn’t exactly what ppl wear. pay attention to gravity too

I hope this helped even a lil im sorry tht I’m not very good at explaining or didn’t have much to sayyy! If u have any troubles no guarantee I’ll have the answer, but ur always free to ask!

[kalechipslives]

sorekara setting design

Here are some notes on the development of SOREKARA's style and presentation. If you couldn't already tell, SK takes a lot of inspiration from 70's/80's anime, Nobody's Boy Remi being the reference point for much of it. I've always respected Dezaki for his monumental work so I've always wanted to pay tribute to it (especially the early stuff). I don't think I was as successful as I'd like to have been, but alas! There is still more to come! So without further ado!

I was just talking about Dezaki , but now I shall talk about something completely different. To set the tone, I created the cat and the trolley setting first. The Girl's design should be plenty obvious (lol). But the background here I paid special attention to... I find the paints of Night on the Galactic Railroad to be very unique. They have a line less, airbrushed quality to them that blends in surprisingly well with the characters. I did some research and studied 児玉喬夫 Takao Kodama's work, as they were credited with setting design for this film as well as Genji Monogatari. Actually, if you look at Genji Monogatari's backgrounds, they have the exact same airbrushed quality! I had never done a background like this before (I am certainly not an environmental artist) but I think I did a fairly good job of it.

...I immediately switched gears and without thinking, went back to Dezaki works. I can't say I was very faithful at all. The night sky is easy to paint, with it's notable color spray and paint blots, but I diverged quite a bit with the watercolor textures. Shichiro Kobayashi is the artist I looked to the most, and this project made me appreciate him more than ever before. Just looking at his paints gets me emotional... The vibrant colors, the dramatic angles, you can just feel his reverence for life overflowing from the work. There really isn't anyone better. I need to study more if I'm to capture even a fraction of his skill. That being said, I did make sure to animate the backgrounds slightly with the sparkles on the water-- The reflection of light on water is my favorite to draw! Also, flowers are a very important motif (for various reasons, ohohoho). Kobayashi seemed to love drawing flowers, the paint around the edges give is a delicate look. Actually, if you look at the textbox...

Instead of full-color CGs, I opted to use "postcard memories". This was a technique Dezaki used where he would show a detailed, scratchy-lined illustration to highlight important moments instead of fully animating them. It creates a really memorable image that draws out all of your emotions! I tried to emulate them (the more single-toned ones, that is) for the game. It was 1/3 Dezaki worship, 1/3 time-saving technique, and 1/3 excuse to draw lots of scratchy lines. I love scratchy lines. This way, I could make a lot of memorable shots that were visually interesting without overworking myself.

As another note, I looked to Akio Sugino's character art when drawing. The characters don't really look like Sugino characters, but I was emulating his shading technique with (once-again) the scratchy lines. Ah, I was in heaven. Looking at his older work, the linework is hardly ever clean-- but the rough, hand-drawn edge gives everything a tactile quality and the strong anatomy makes everyone so gorgeous. It's like an engraving come to life.

Finally, the anime effects! On the left you can see soothat before his values are adjusted (very dark, isn't he?) and on the right you can see he is in-game, values adjusted with a more appropriate "anime" look. This is because anime cells are put onto a CRT screen, so they end up looking very different. I created an auto action in CSP to adjust the color grating and line quality of every asset before popping them into the game for the chromatic aberration to take effect. The lines are slightly crunched a blurrier compared to the original. It gives it a more "physical" look. The colors are fixed up-- you'll see there is no pure black. If you look at a physical anime cell, you'll see they more often than not do not include pure black. There is usually a tint of green or red in there.

The chromatic aberration filter... I don't know how noticeable it is to the average player, but the game actually has a built-in filter that creates a slight "chroma" effect to emulate the look of frames through a crt/light. This means the red + blue + green values of the entire screen are split up and adjusted to layer slightly off from each other, giving it a little visual interest. It was AN EXTREME doozy to put in, with my poor programmer coding it and re-coding it until the end. It seemed simple at first, but there are parts where the game zooms in which totally broke the filter! It made out eyes bleed! But it was repaired in the end, so blessing upon you, Sandy. You saved my life.

The reason why I looked to Ie Naki Ko/Nobody's Boy Remi specifically is because that's where I feel the most "pure" energy from. It is a show that leans incredibly hard on it's techniques to get by but because of that it really embodies what I love about old anime-- It has a selfless reverence for its subject that drives you to watch and surrender your heart. Dezaki's powerful directing, Sugino's gorgeous drawings and Kobayashi's majestic paintings come together to make a work that shines. The setting is truly at the forefront with the characters getting lost in the grandeur. That's the attitude I had with SOREKARA: "There are things much greater than us, so isn't it wonderful that we are able to see them side-by-side?" There are many animation techniques that are cost-effective while still being utterly beautiful, I would love to copy them someday but I wasn't able to go that far yet. At least not in the demo. There's still time, I suppose... Studying limited animation from old anime is actually extremely useful when creating visual novels. Understanding the placement of cells and their layering/movement has given me even more ideas for stories!

I ended up going on a rant about anime again ^^" But it's so beautiful, you must now understand my heart going into the work. I always think of my characters and their journey, of course, but before that I think of the setting. I want the player to experience beautiful and mysterious things alongside their traveling companions. There is still so much more to make. I hope to incorporate more Dezaki-style techniques in this and future works. Please remember the true message of my works.... Not that love finds a way, or that your connections can transform your world...it's that....anime is very, very cool.

Thank you for reading 🙇🏽‍♂️

[cambria-writes]

i did it. it's finally done. it's over, and i finished it.

thank you so much to everyone who's followed me and this story, who's commented, liked and reblogged. you've all helped give me back something i had lost a long time ago: the ability to write.

i'm so thankful to have found this fandom and the people in it, and i wouldn't change a single thing about the journey that was writing Ravenloft.

some things to know about this chapter:

i only discovered literally two days ago that july 1st is not, in fact, universal moving day. that's apparently something very unique to my part of canada lol, so that's why i had the moving take place that day. might not have even registered for anyone else but me but i felt like i should explain that just in case.

additionally, i don't know fuckall about indiana, never been. the market place arena is no longer there, either, so it took a bit of guesswork to figure out what to do. thank you to @bramblequill for answering my very strange questions. ♥

lastly, i have no idea how school works in the states. i just went with september 2nd as back to school since it was the tuesday right after labour day, and the internet told me that 8:30am as a starting time for classes was reasonable so there we go.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader rating: E, 18+ warnings: SMUT, female anatomy used but otherwise no real physical description, fingering, masturbation (m and f), cum swallowing, so much swearing, Wayne calls Eddie son and reader calls Wayne his father, smoking (cigarettes and weed), alcohol consumption, vague reference to choking, mention of flagging/the hanky code, Eddie doesn't whip out the sadism though, mention of using handcuffs, i guess this is semi-public sex actually, Eddie's a gentleman though, mention of an alternate timeline where Eddie does die, mention of death broadly, reader has anxious responses to shit sometimes, Good Girl is said a few times, god I'm running out of brain RAM please let me know if I should tag anything else! word count: 7,512

thank you again!!

Previous Masterlist

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕹𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: 𝔓𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔯𝔰 ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔟𝔬𝔬𝔨

July 2nd, 19863:27AM

You don’t know where you are when you first wake up. There are no lights on, there’s a familiar but distant sound, and it’s too fucking warm. After a few seconds of tensely paying attention, you realize that the familiar sound is the compressor in the fridge.

Right. You moved yesterday.

When you bother to open your eyes and look around, you realize why it’s so dark. You never bothered to plug in your alarm clock and you can’t see the time on the stove from here, but it’s definitely still night. Quiet enough that it’s probably not even 4am yet.

You roll to turn around, but promptly end up yelping and falling right on your ass. The vague but bitter thought crosses your mind that you’ve somehow developed a habit of falling and injuring yourself in whatever bedroom you occupy.

Said bedroom door cracks open slowly. From your spot on the floor, you get to see a very tired Eddie—is he even actually awake?—slowly emerge from the opening door.

“Fuck was that,” he mutters, right before unhinging his jaw to yawn. You sigh and let yourself fall back on the floor, limp, staring up at a ceiling fan that refuses to work.

“Forgot where I was,” you say quietly, throwing an arm over your eyes. “Go back to bed dude.”

Eddie grunts, but you don’t hear the tell-tale squeaking and creaking of floorboards. Instead, when you move your arm out of the way just enough to see, you catch Eddie scratching the back of his head and looking back to the hallway. He clears his throat, and you cover your eyes again before he catches you staring.

He probably caught you staring way too much yesterday, so you’re not sure why it matters. It’s not like he’d make a big deal out of it anyways—not the way Steve and Robin did when they were helping you carry the sectional couch Mrs Henderson insisted you take from her basement.

(It’s fine, she had said, I can’t really look at that old thing anymore, she said. You didn’t ask, but you’d assumed that it was the same as everyone in Hawkins; just trying to get rid of all the leftovers from The Earthquake and what had preceded it.)

You’re jostled out of your thoughts when you feel Eddie’s shoulder—bare, from the cut-out Black Sabbath shirt he’s warning—against yours. He feels cool and clammy, like he’d been tossing and turning around in the heat, too.

“Ahh,” he sighs, folding his hands over his chest. “You had the right idea. Floor’s cold. Fuck this heat.”

You hum in agreement, and turn your head to properly look at Eddie.

“You could go back home,” you say quietly. When you don’t get an answer after a few seconds, you scoff lightly and turn to stare back at the ceiling. “At least he wouldn’t be boiling alive.”

You nearly squawk when you feel a hand taping on your hip. When you turn to look at Eddie again, his eyes are closed, still, but he’s very clearly frowning.

“Y’r being stupid,” he mutters, taking a deep breath before forcing himself to sit up, leaning back on his hands. He rotates his shoulders and—and he’s saying something else, you know he is. But there’s... there’s something about his shoulders.

Have they always been that wide?

You know your mouth is hanging open when Eddie turns to look back at you, and you only snap it shut with a click when you see him grinning.

“Didn’t catch a word I just said, huh.”

You try to speak a first time, but your voice cracks on the first syllable. Clear your throat and cough once or twice before trying again. This time you get yourself up on your feet and head for the door.

“Not a word. Too tired. Want a beer?”

Eddie blinks at you owlishly for a second before letting himself fall back to the floor. You’re about to take that as a silent refusal when he grumbles.

“Do you even know what time it is? Beer?”

You scoff again and cross your arms from your place at the door.

“What, like you do?”

Eddie simply raises an arm in response. You frown, open your mouth to ask why the fuck he’s raising his hand in your damn house, when you notice the watch still on his wrist.

(You try not to remember a very different, broken watch keeping time for the dead.)

“Right, well,” you dither, clearing your throat again. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Do you want a beer or not?”

Eddie sighs, putting on a show about being put out and disappointed and too tired, but the hand he rests low on your back to herd you out of the room is gentle. The quiet ‘sure’ he whispers also sounds far too caring and indulgent.

You practically inhale half of the first beer you pull from the fridge. If Eddie’s got any thoughts about that, he keeps them to himself. You sit down at the table—square, angular, nothing like the one that was in your hideout—and lean back in a chair that still smells like sawdust and campfire.

Leaning back in his own chair across from you, Eddie takes a slow look around. You see him pause to look at what you’ve already put up on the fridge. There’s a character sheet, a small pebble that’s been glued to a magnet, a note from your parents and a small magnetic photo frame. You can already feel your face heat up when Eddie points at it.

“That wasn’t there when we had pizza,” he says, slowly and a bit incredulously. You can only hold his gaze for a second or two when he turns to you for answers.

“I, uh,” you stutter, biting your lip and picking at the label of the bottle in your hands. “That’s—my mom, uh.”

It’s a polaroid.

By any other metric, completely unremarkable. Unnoticeable, probably, to anyone whose face isn’t actually on the damn thing. And if your mother hadn’t taken you aside yesterday morning to hand you a small, old and beaten-up looking shoebox, you probably wouldn’t ever have remembered that photo exists.

It’s Eddie, surrounded by trees, and wearing a cloak that had definitely been about twelve sizes too big. The hood swallows most of his head; the only thing that’s really visible is his smile. Honestly, most people probably wouldn’t even be able to tell that that’s Eddie Munson, in that photo.

But you remember taking that. Remember flapping the polaroid around madly while running away.

You shake your head against the memory. Those times are long gone, now. So why...

“Yeah,” you end up whispering, before taking a deep breath and letting out a deeper sigh. “I’unno. When my mom gave me an old box of pictures from middle school, I kind of...” You look over at the fridge and take another, albeit significantly more moderate, drag of your beer. “Dunno. Felt like it.”

Eddie slowly stands and walks over to the fridge. Takes a sip of his beer while he looks at the photo. Takes a quick look at you before taking a step back from the fridge to look at what all else you’ve put up there so far.

“You still got that box?” And bless him, you know he’s trying to be nonchalant about it, but there’s an anxious tone undercutting his voice clear as day. You chuckle and make your way back to your room and to your closet.

It’s only when you pull the small shoebox out and you’ve got it cradled in your arms do you realize the significance of this.

Almost everything that was in the trailer was lost; it’s honestly a miracle anything survived at all. But among the losses, you remember Wayne bemoaning the loss of the few pictures that he’d been able to take of Eddie over the years.

You look down at the box a bit more misty-eyed. You hope that there’s something helpful in here. Something nicer.

When you make it back to the living room, Eddie’s still standing in front of the fridge. His brows are pulled together and the sip he takes of his beer nearly dribbles down his chin. You hold the box a bit closer to your stomach when you move to stand next to him.

“What are we looking at?” you ask, and Eddie nearly jumps out of his skin. You put a hand on his arm and laugh. “Hey there, have a nice time up in the clouds?”

Eddie laughs a bit thinly, points up at the fridge. “I was just. You kept the—the lyrics. From middle school?”

You stare up at the piece of turns, crumpled up ruled paper. You remember carrying that everywhere with you, in middle school and high school. Carried it in your wallet for a while, too, though...

You turn back to the table to gently put the shoebox down. “I didn’t think you’d remember writing that,” you say quietly, pulling up one small stack of photos neatly held together with a rubber band.

Eddie scoffs. “Are you kidding me? You basically whined at me for weeks to come up with a love song for... what was—”

“Shanon,” you add quickly, blindly reaching for your beer bottle while sorting through photos. “Blonde, grey eyes. You were infatuated.”

You don’t see the sad, self-deprecating grin on Eddie’s face.

“Shanon... yeah, no, didn’t write that for her.”

You take a second to bring the bottle down from your mouth. Turn around to look at Eddie, but he’s still resolutely looking at the paper haphazardly stuck to the fridge. It’s at an angle. It’s starting to drive you crazy. Eddie chugs the rest of his beer, puts the empty bottle on the counter by the fridge, and turns around.

“Woah there pal,” you start, chugging your own beer with a wince. You put the bottle back on the table behind you. “What’s that look for?”

You feel like your heart’s beating a frenzy in your throat. You’re pretty sure you just felt a heart palpitation. The look on Eddie’s face is intense in a way you don’t recognize. Not like when he's DMing and he’s about to throw a real wrench in everyone’s plans, and not like in the Upside Down.

No, it feels a lot like how he looks at you out in the fields by the junkyard.

You would take a step back when Eddie starts walking toward you, but you’re already leaning against the table behind you. You try to straighten up to maybe attempt to look less frazzled than you feel.

The beer’s already making your head feel fuzzy and your lips feel numb.

Eddie stops about a foot away from you, and you’re not sure how to feel about the fact that you have to crane your neck up to actually look at him. He opens his mouth, looking down at your with a frown. He tries a few times like this, before sighing and just.

Letting himself slump over to rest his head on your right shoulder.

You stay like that for a bit. You can hear the hitch in Eddie’s breath when he tries, again, to say something. After the third or fourth time, it feels like something’s squeezing your chest. He’s clearly got something on his chest he wants to get off—something heavy—and you know how that feels. How that goes.

Your left hand comes up to brace the back of his head before you can think of the implications.

Whatever. Fuck the implications.

“You can take your time, y’know,” you whisper, slowly slumping back to lean against the table behind you, forcing Eddie to take a step forward if he wants to stay in his spot.

“I can’t, I really can’t.” His voice sounds strained, and you flounder. You’ve never really had to struggle to get people to talk to you—not the people who actually give a fuck about you, anyways. And you can’t think of a single time, barring the obvious fuckery of the Upside Down, when Eddie was hesitant to talk to you.

He gently grabs the hand in his hair and pulls it away to straight himself out again. His eyes are closed when you can see his face again. He takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand.

“Listen—“

The phone rings.

You haven’t even put it up on the wall by the doorway yet. It’s still on the counter, where you’ve left it, right by the fridge.

The shock of it in the quiet of the dining room makes you trip over yourself. Eddie catches you and, practically in the same motion, spins to direct you to the phone. Out of breath, you pick up.

“Ye—hello?”

“Hey, hon,” comes Wayne’s tired greeting. “Sorry if I woke you up, but is Eddie still with you?���

You blink a few times, staring out into nothing. You only wonder for a second why he’d call so late when you’d likely be out cold, but when you turn to face Eddie—now leaning back against the table—the realization comes all at once.

“Ed—yes, oh my god, Wayne, I’m so sorry,” you rush to say, turning back to the counter and cradling the receiver. “Yeah, he helped me unpack and we kind of crashed, I should have had him call—”

“Hey, hey,” Wayne chuckles, and the lightness of the tone helps you breathe a bit easier. “It’s fine. Sorry I woke ya up.”

“Please don’t worry about it,” you reply quickly. “We’ve been up for a bit going through some stuff.”

“I won’t keep you then. Just tell that idiot son of mine to call next time.”

You let out a quiet bark of laughter and promise you will. You don’t think you’ve ever referred to Eddie as his son before. Guess the whole town going to shit changed a few things. Said idiot son has the decency to look a bit ashamed when you turn around and lean back against the counter.

“Probably shoulda called before we called it a night, huh,” Eddie says with a wince.

There’s a beat of silence that’s almost awkward before you clear your throat to speak.

“You uh, you were going to tell me something?”

Eddie stands there, expression not unlike shock on his face. He opens his mouth two or three times but eventually settles on a shrug.

“Don’t worry about it, I can’t even remember what I was going to say.” The end of his sentence almost trails off its so quiet. It’s clearly a lie, but you’re too fuzzy from the beer and fatigue from moving to push the issue any further.

You push yourself off the kitchen counter and brush your hands off on your thighs.

“Well,” you start, feeling a bit awkward while you amble toward the hallway. “I need to go back to bed. Let me know if...” It’s your turn to trail off, because you’re not sure how to end that sentence. Let you know if what, a demodog comes bursting in through the window?

You look anxiously over your shoulder at the window over the sink. It’s fine. It’s nothing, nothing’s there, you’re good. You clear your throat.

“Right, so. I’ll just.”

Eddie nods but doesn’t look at you. Your room is bright with birdsong and the rising sun by the time you fall asleep.

17 July 19861:37AM

You’re not entirely sure what motivated you to get out of bed, climb into your car, and make it to the Munsons’. It’s not like you couldn’t have just grabbed the phone and dialed Eddie’s shiny separate number. (You’re beginning to think the hush money bit was real.) You’ve called each other at the worst times of night and day for dumber shit.

This time, though, the nightmare felt a little too real to ignore and sleep off. Like you usually would have done.

It was like you had never existed; like everyone had gone into the Upside Down without you, without an extraction team, without a backup plan. And you had to watch while Eddie sliced the blanket rope. Horrified, you watched Dustin sprain his ankle in his rush to get back.

Eddie, gasping and choking on his own blood, saying he hadn’t run away this time. Eddie, glassy-eyed and gone, torn to shreds by bats left motionless by what you now know to have been Chief Hopper’s own attack all the way in Russia.

You take a second to control your breathing once you’re at the squat triplex. Eventually you uncurl your stiff and sore fingers from the steering wheel and force yourself out of the car. Your legs feel like jello and your head like lead.

You consider trying to climb up to the third floor, somehow, if only for a second. You know Wayne’s likely to be up so you shouldn’t worry too much about either ringing or knocking but... Shake your head and hit the button for the third floor before you can think more about it and chicken out.

You’re let in surprisingly quickly. When you make it up to door number 3, Wayne’s leaning against the doorway.

“Bit early,” he says, uncrossing his arms once you’re near. Puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. “Everything okay?”

“Nightmares,” you answer quietly. You curl and uncurl your fists at your sides.

“Come on,” Wayne says after a beat of silence. “He’s in his room. Coffee?”

You shake your head. With one last squeeze of your shoulder. Wayne wanders back inside, and you aim straight for Eddie’s bedroom door. Your fist is up to knock when Eddie opens the door, looking disheveled but extremely awake.

“Hey,” he says airily, out of breath as he pulls his hair back into a low ponytail. “I was about to head out—you weren’t answering your phone so.”

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything or explain before pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. He throws his jacket—leather only, sans denim, as it has been for a few months now—over the back of the chair as his desk.

Nothing much else is said, which is how these nights usually go. Neither of you need to be rehashing what happened in the Upside Down, the earthquake, your constant passing out. Tonight, though, there is one thing that eats at you. Eddie has to nudge you, sitting next to him on his bed beneath the window, to pass the joint over. When you take it, he makes a point to lean forward to try and get a good look at your face.

“Did... did something happen? Before you got here?” he asks, and the concern in his voice twists your gut unpleasantly.

“It’s just—it’s nightmares. You know how it is.” You make a point not to take too deep of a toke of the joint before passing it back over, turning your head to blow the smoke out through the open window.

You can just barely see Eddie narrowing his eyes at you in your periphery. For a second, when he straightens up and leans back against the wall next to you, you think he’s dropped it.

“If it was just nightmares, you would’ve called.”

You snort and look the other way. Again, though, Eddie nudges you to turn around and take the joint. Carefully and, thankfully, not too quickly, he grabs your wrist as you grab the joint.

“Hey. Come on. Talk to me, please.”

Your eyes burn and you can already feel your nose getting red and itchy. Your whole face feels warm. Either to spare you the embarrassment of it or a second, secret reason, Eddie pulls you into his chest and you just start crying.

You’ve dreamt of people dying before. Tons of times. Even before El tore a massive hole through reality in Hawkins. But that—feeling powerless in a situation you know could’ve happened if you hadn’t just been around and stuck your nose where it arguably shouldn’t have been—and seeing Eddie die in a way you just couldn’t help?

That was brutal.

17 July 19869:12AM

You have no idea when you fell asleep. Your eyes feel sore and dry, your throat feels strange and your neck hurts. You’re cursorily aware that you’re in Eddie’s room—the smell of weed, incense and whatever cologne he wears usually gives it away.

Very quickly, you realize that you’ve fallen asleep on Eddie’s chest at an awkward angle. You’re both barely sitting up, still leaning back against the wall underneath the window. God, you drool on him. Fuck.

Okay, this is fine. You’ve literally had worse.

You take a deep breath and, as smoothly and quickly as you can, roll off the bed and onto your knees. It’s not graceful, but when you look back, Eddie still seems to be sound asleep. You pray to whatever’s out there that he stays that way until his shirt’s dry.

You tiptoe out of the room and turn the knob before shutting the door behind you. The rest of the apartment is empty, and with how late you heard Wayne ambling about, you’re sure he’s not ready to get up any time soon, either.

By the time you leave, there’s breakfast ready to be reheated in the oven and you’ve left a note on the coffee maker saying to just turn it on.

When you walk outside to your car, though the sun’s been up for a while, the fog still clings to the ground. You sit in your car for a few minutes, staring at the water droplets slowly evaporating on the windshield. When your heart rate has gone back down to something human and manageable, you start the car and head home.

13 August 198612:07AM

If you were bubbling with excitement before the concert, now you feel like soda that’s been left out for a few hours. Flat, maybe, but still just as sweet as it was before, if not moreso. You still feel all the enthrallment that you did before and during the concert, but now you feel...

Well, post-concert blues. That satisfied feeling of having witnessed something amazing, but the accompanying sadness and mourning knowing that you’ll never be able to relive this same experience again. It’s come and gone and now all you can do is remember it.

You slap your thighs to bring you out of your own head. This is going to be a good fucking night. Eddie literally bought you tickets to see Judas Priest and drove you both all the way out here. Refused to let you drive for a singular second, too.

“You still that hyped?” Eddie asks, laughing, holding his lighter out to you. You light up your own smoke and laugh.

“Nah, just trying to get my head back in the game. Too much shit rattling around in here.” You tap your head with the lighter before handing it back.  Eddie takes a second before grabbing it, though, and you have to wave your other hand in front of him to snap him out of it.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s out of it,” you laugh, bumping his shoulder with yours when he finally takes the damn lighter back.

Quietly, from inside the van, you can hear the opening bars for Wild Nights.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie grunts, crouching down to tie the messy laces of his right shoe. “I’m the one who drove three hours to get here, and had to convince your parents that I wouldn’t murder you and dump your body in the river.”

You can’t help but cackle. You know for a fact that neither of your parents called the Munson household, but you also know that it’s something that they very easily could have done. Looking out at the White river from your little spot at the state park, you open your mouth to say something about how overprotective Wayne can be, but then something catches your eye.

“They literally,” you start, reaching over to pluck the scarf from Eddie’s back pocket. “Did not do that.” You twist the scarf around in your hands a bit before trying to whip it at his ass. You miss horribly and end up snapping the tip of the scarf on his thigh.

You burst out in laughter, full bellied and unrestrained, when Eddie yelps and topples over to the right. You try to apologize and ask if he’s okay, but you doubt that anything intelligible makes it past you wheezing, squeaking laughter.

“Alright, that’s it,” Eddie grumbles, tossing his half-smoke cigarette into the gravel before stalking towards you. He’s clearly not upset, but you make a mad dash for the riverbank anyways.

The toes of your shoes have just barely touched water before Eddie’s arms wrap around your torso and pull you back. You shriek and kick once or twice before letting yourself go limp.

Half an hour later finds you in some park along the 36, hair and clothes still damp and cheeks sore. You’re both sitting in the back of the van, doors open, passing a joint between you and looking out onto the park.

“I like what you’ve done with this old bitch,” you comment, tapping the plush—carpeting? blanket?—that Eddie’s laid down in the back. “Is there a camping mat under this or something?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, been going out in the woods after work sometimes just to like... relax, y’know?” You nod; you ran to the woods a lot as a kid, too. “Right, so I kinda made it more comfy to get high in. That’s it.”

When he passes you the joint, you look back at the front where you’d left the scarf. Handkerchief? You’ve had the question in mind ever since March: is he the S or is he the M?

“Seriously?” Eddie balks. “That’s what’s been on your mind this whole time?”

You turn to look at him and blink owlishly.

“Oh. Oh god, please tell me I didn’t say that out loud.”

Eddie laughs, and it almost sounds a little mean. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck and making its way to your face. Your cheeks itch with it.

“Right, you’re too baked and tired for this,” Eddie declares, and even to your ears he sounds way too composed and, frankly, sober. Though you guess he’s maybe had a bit more time to get used to smoking weed than you have.

“What, no!” You whine, trying to reach across him to snag the joint out of his left hand. Unfortunately, the best that’s done for you is get you splayed across Eddie’s lap once you inevitably lose your balance.  “Fuck you.”

Eddie’s almost unnaturally still beneath you. And you’d look up at him, if you could, but even fucking cooked, you’re very aware that you’re laid across a man’s lap.

Your throat feels too tight when you swallow. You move to brace an arm on Eddie’s thigh to prop yourself up, but his hand on the back of your head has you freezing in place. When the hand starts petting down your head, your neck and your spine, only to start again at the top, you start to go limp. This isn’t so bad.

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs, and you get the feeling you’ve spoken out loud again. “You would think that.” The embarrassment is enough to make your eyes sting. There’s a beat of silence, and then Eddie leans over to whisper in your ear, “Good girl.”

You swallow thickly. You had intended to follow-up by asking whether or not Eddie was even interested in the opposite gender. But you suppose that answers that.

There’s a tension in your gut and shoulders that makes you second guess yourself. You get the words out before you can think too much about it.

“What do I have to do for you to say that again?”

The hand petting you takes its time reaching the bottom of your spine, and then stays there. Warm against your lower back, and just high enough to say he’s not actually touching your ass. Awfully cordial.

“Depends,” Eddie hums, and you hear him take another toke of the joint before crushing the tip of it between his fingers and chucking the extinguished butt somewhere you can’t see. “Why?”

This time, you do prop yourself up, both hands on Eddie’s thigh. If it had been anyone else, the distance between your faces would have been the epitome of discomfort.

“I want you to say it again,” you answer quietly. It’s getting harder to keep your eyes on his and not let them drift down.

“Say what again?” Eddie asks, and you don’t know if you love or hate the shit eating grin on his face. You should have expected this, though; putting you on the spot was part of the whole point, wasn’t it?

“I-I want you to...” you start, but your throat feels too small for the words that are trying to come out. Eddie’s hand at your lower back comes up to rub comforting circles between your shoulder blades. Your face and neck are on fire and everything feels itchy.

“Come on,” Eddie whispers. You realize that you’ve been staring at his mouth, and when you look, he is very much looking down at your mouth. “Won’t laugh. Promise.”

The sigh that leaves you almost surprises you.

“I-I want you to—I want you to call me a good girl. Again. Please.”

The hand between your shoulders makes its way forward to cup your jaw.

“Good girl,” Eddie breathes, and it’s like your whole body vibrates, shudders with the satisfaction of it. “Fuck,” he chuckles, swiping his thumb across your cheekbone. “You’re really into that.”

You want to say that you shrugged, but the reality is that the sound that comes out of your mouth couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than a whimper.

“Can I—” Eddie starts asking, but you cut him off nearly right away.

“Yes.”

You would think kissing your childhood best friend, whom you’d lost touch with for several years and had recently gone through several traumatic events with, would be somewhat awkward and clumsy. But, unlike when you were teenagers, you and Eddie both, clearly, had the advantage of some gained experience in the meanwhile.

There’s no chastity in the kiss; from the moment his mouth locks with yours, it’s open-mouthed and breathless. Eddie pulls you closer, helps you sit across his lap properly, and you fist your hands in his shirt. In his brand new Judas Priest shirt. You know he doesn’t even particularly like Turbo, as an album. Almost none of it is his preferred style.

You whine into the kiss, and you chase Eddie’s lips when he pulls away. He helps shift you off his lap and quickly instructs you to move back and lie down. The van is plunged into near pitch-black. You move back until you feel what you think is the back of the driver’s seat. You don’t lie back yet, instead reaching out for Eddie.

Your hand knocks into what’s apparently his arm. His mouth finds your again in the dark as your fingers find their way into his hair. You gasp when Eddie roughly pulls you down, firmly gripping your hips one second and cradling your head to make sure you don’t hit it the next.

“You sure this is fine?” Eddie asks, though his lips are moving down to your neck, teeth nipping at the skin.

“It’s fine, this is fine,” you rush to say, letting your hands wander up under Eddie’s shirt. You’re  sure to keep your touch light when you come across the scars. “This is so fucking fine,” you breathe.

Eddie’s shirt rises with your wandering hands, and he gives you a second to pull it over his head. You have no idea where you toss it and you honestly couldn’t care less. His hands, in return, take the opportunity to make their way under your shirt, and you want to scream. Your entire body feels like a coil being wound tighter.

It’s unfamiliar, how intense it is. You don’t think you mind.

Eddie knocks your knees open to settle between your legs rather than straddling you, though you’re more preoccupied by your shirt—identical to Eddie’s, because you couldn’t help yourself—being peeled off and thrown into an equally unknowable direction. His hands on your ribs feel like irons smoothing out the trembling wrinkles of them, and the shuddering sigh that you let out makes Eddie chuckle.

“Poor thing,” he laments, one hand at your waist prompting you to arch your back, the other sliding up your back to somehow expertly undo the clasp of your bra. “Been holding out for a while, huh.”

It’s not a question. You twitch, about to bring your hands up to hide your face, but—there’s no real point, is there? In this kind of darkness, it’s not like he’d be able to see how red your face is. You have a feeling he’d reprimand you for trying to hide, anyways.

“Didn’t think you’d wanna look at me,” you breathe into his mouth. Saying it out loud makes it feel silly, especially here and now. You don’t hold it against him when Eddie laughs. You can hear the shock in it.

“We’re both idiots,” he mutters, trailing kisses from the corner of your mouth, down your neck, nipping at the collarbone on the way. He presses his lips to your sternum, hands gliding up your sides to palm at your breasts. Nothing like the fumbling messes of your first adult years; Eddie’s hands are slow and deliberate. He’s not feeling you up for his own sake—though you don’t doubt that it in no small way contributes to the hardening length you feel growing at the junction of your thigh—but for yours. This feels entirely like a massage for your benefit.

To his credit, it’s working. Whatever tension you were holding in your shoulders is slowly melting away under his hands.

His mouth continues its trail down, licking a stripe up your navel before he stops at the button of your shorts. You don’t let him ask, you just unbutton them for him. He doesn’t move until he hears you start to pull at the zipper. He doesn’t leave you time to pull it down all the way before he’s tugging your shorts off like they’ve personally offended him.

The cold air makes you realize he’s taken your underwear with them. He lightly rests his forehead on your stomach and breathes in. It almost makes you choke.

“God you smell good,” he growls against your skin. While his mouth trails kisses back up your torso, you feel one hand sliding gently up your chest to rest at the base of your throat. The other slides two fingers through your slit.

Eddie groans like he’s in pain.

“I won’t—not here, fuck,” Eddie mutters, nuzzling between your breasts, and you buck your hips into his hands when one of his slicked fingers finds your clit. “First time we gotta do it right but this, we can—I can give you this,” he whispers, so low you figure he must be talking to himself more than he is to you.

One finger prods at your entrance, and then he’s got two fingers inside of you. The first few pumps, though heaven, don’t do much. But then Eddie curls his fingers, and it’s like he’s a puppeteer who’s pulled on all of your strings all at once. He exhales sharply and sounds entirely too pleased with himself when he speaks.

“There she is,” he whispers, mouthing at the spot on your neck just below your ear. The warmth  makes you shiver and clamp down on his finger. “Fuck, that’s it.”

Eddie’s hand practically turns into a machine. You don’t think you’ve ever been able to get yourself so close to cumming in less than a minute. The hand at the base of your neck creeps just a little bit higher. When you gasp at the pressure his fingers apply, you have to grab at Eddie’s wrist to keep his hand there.

“You’re perfect,” Eddie sighs, and you can feel more than see him toss his head back. “Fuck, wish I could see your face right now.”

“Next time,” you reply quickly. “Please, fuck, I’m so close, please please please,” you whine, reaching your other hand down to rub at your clit.

“Holy shit that’s so fucking hot,” Eddie groans, and bites down on your neck, just above where his hand collars it nicely.

The sting is what sends you careening over the edge, cumming with a drawn-out moan. Your hips jerk erratically in spite of yourself, chasing Eddie’s fingers as he fucks you through your orgasm. When your arms go limp, you distantly register the sound of his belt coming undone and the distinct sound of him spitting. There’s a slick sound and it doesn’t take long for you to realize that.

That Eddie Munson is jerking off over your naked body.

“Fucking christ,” you whisper, out of breath, and force yourself to sit up.

“Fuck,” Eddie moans, and you blindly reach out for him. He grabs one of your hands on his chest, laces his fingers tightly through yours. Your other hand, however, makes it down to his, wrapped around and pump his cock.

You shimmy back just enough to be able to lean down to lick the tip.

“Jesus f—I’m gonna,” Eddie chokes out. He doesn’t finish his sentence when you bat his hand away and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and suck.

You swallow more of him down as he cums, swallowing around him once or twice before he brushes a hand up your forehead and lightly pushes you back and away. You kiss his navel, instead, then his sternum, until he pulls you up with two hands cupping your face, and makes you kiss him, instead.

You didn’t think you’d be turned on by a guy kissing you after you’ve just swallowed his load, but there are apparently a lot of things you’ve yet to discover about yourself.

Carefully, mouths still touching but not quite kissing, Eddie maneuvers you both so that he can lie down on his back, and you can lay your head on his chest.

You throw a leg over his for good measure.

“I’m not moving anymore,” you groan, burrowing your face into his chest.

“Can’t blame ya,” Eddie says, breathless, and you can’t help but laugh.

There’s a moment of silence, and then both of you start laughing. The bouncing of his chest makes it hard to stop laughing. Your gut hurts, your cheeks hurt, and you are entirely too sweaty. You could not care less.

“So,” Eddie starts, once you’ve both been able to calm down and breathe like normal people again. “You mentioned a next time?”

You hum and close your eyes against the darkness in the back of the van.

“Mm, it did not escape my notice that the handcuffs were something you managed to rescue from the trailer,” you mumble, throwing an arm over Eddie’s chest and squeezing.

“...I don’t think I hate the idea of you in chains, actually.”

September 2nd, 19867:58AM

You’re woken up entirely too early by your phone ringing. You don’t need to look at the time to know it’s too early; if you can’t hear cars driving around yet, it’s too fucking early.

“Mmn, gmorning, what,” you slur, wedging the phone between your chin and shoulder and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Morning to you too, sunshine,” Eddie greets you brightly, and the warmth that bubbles up in your chest at the sound of his voice feels almost euphoric.

“You’re a weapon,” you say fondly, moving from where you’ve finally wall-mounted the phone to the wall by the fridge and making your way to the kitchen counter, which you promptly hop up on. “Wait,” you whisper, leaning forward to look at the calendar you’ve stuck to the fridge. “It’s September 2nd.”

“Mhm, congratulations, you can correctly identify the date.”

You ignore the snark.

You have entirely forgotten to ask Eddie whether or not he’d been made to repeat his senior year—again—despite everything that had happened over spring break. It felt awkward to ask now, though.

“You, uh,” you stutter instead, trying to find the least offensive way to go about finding out. “You’re calling, uh, early. Special occasion?”

“Of course,” Eddie says haughtily, and you can almost imagine the expression on his face. The kind that says ‘I know something you don’t and I know you’re too much of a coward to ask about it’.

“Come on just say it man,” you plead, letting your head fall back and reaching up to keep the receiver in place.

“My lady, I’m sure I don’t know what you speak of.”

“Fucking dick,” you say under your breath. Take a deep breath, bring your head back up and square your shoulder. “Edward Munson, did they or did they not let you graduate?”

Eddie lets out a bark of laughter so loud you have to pull the receiver away from your ear for a second. His tone and demeanor make you want to believe that he’s finally been cut some slack, but...

You manage to get a single sound out before there’s a knock at your door. You hold the phone away from yourself again, narrow your eyes at it like it’s Eddie in your hands instead of the receiver, and put it back to your ear. You cut off whatever he was saying when you speak again.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why there’s someone knocking on my door at,” you pause, turning to look at the time on the stove. “One past eight in the fucking morning?”

“Dunno, sounds important if it’s this early though,” Eddie replies, a bit too easily, and you sigh.

“Whatever, I’m putting the phone down. Don’t hang up.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You huff and put the phone down on the counter, making sure it won’t fall off. By the time you make it to your front door, whoever’s there has decided that knocking nonstop is clearly the best way to get your attention.

You honestly should have expected Dustin Henderson at your doorstep at eight in the morning on back to school day. He’s suspiciously got an arm behind his back. You sigh, again, and unlock the deadbolt and undo the latch before opening the door.

“Alright,” you say, one hand on your hip and the other hand held out. “Fork it over.”

“I have no idea—” Dustin starts to say, but the deadpan stare you level at him makes him clear his throat instead. “Right! Here you go.”

“Thank you kindly, now hold up,” you say, holding a finger up and quickly walking over to your fridge to pull a bottle of water out. When you’re halfway back to the door, you call out, “Heads up!” and toss the bottle over.

Dustin barely manages to catch the thing, but doesn’t do so without a comical amount of fumbling.

“Awesome, now that you’ve done your Dungeon Master’s bidding, go the fuck to school, nerd,” you chastise, flicking the bill of Dustin’s cap.

“Man, you’re mean, you know that?”

“Sure, that’s why I’m making sure you’re staying hydrated on that damn bike,” you retort, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Go on now, shoo. Go get an education.”

You wait until you can’t see Dustin down the road anymore before closing and locking the door, and wandering back over to the phone.

“Alright,” you say, wedging the receiver under your chin again and tearing open the envelope you’d been handed. “This better be worth it. I was up until 3am and I’m fucking beat.”

Eddie stays quiet, but you can practically feel the frantic energy of him through the phone. You pull the paper—papers, it’s a whole damn stack of them—and then promptly drop them all on the kitchen floor when you catch the title on the first page.

“Edward,” you start, tone harsh.

“Hey, woah, okay,” Eddie  rushes to start. “Okay, I graduated, right? Like, everyone was let through because of all the bullshit. That’s not really important right now though?”

“Ed,” you start again, lower and calmer. “That thing said ‘Thrasher Records’. I don’t fucking know who they are but there’s fucking record in the name, babe.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. You can hear the face-splitting smile. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.”

“What the fuck,” you whisper, and you know he can hear the smile splitting your face, too.

You don’t change out of your sleep shorts and Judas Priest shirt. You’re at the Munsons’ in just under five minutes—which, yes, is probably a little bit criminally fast, but it’s not like Hopper’s gonna care—only to find out that Edward fucking Munson hadn’t even told his own damn father.

You give your boyfriend just enough shit for him to want to make up for it.

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

@bramblequill @storiesbyrhi @averagestudent03 @alovesongtheywrote @doratheignora @fnlyroe

[dapper-lil-arts]

…how does one learn to draw thicc bodies? I have a tummy myself and your characters get me wanting to draw but I’m kinda stuck rn with the “how’s” of it all. Any advice?

here's the some advices! - plan out the pose you'll draw/where each aspect of the character will be before you even sketch! (example: where their limbs and parts are positioned to indicate angle, gravity, etc) dont be afraid to be loose with it; have a separate layer just to plan out before you go! a pre-sketch if you will. a lot of artists comit to a pose they dont notice is wrong too soon, and regret 3/4s into the art theyre doin, it happens. - use a LOT of reference. and i don't mean just real people and real studies, i mean artists you like! like scour artists blogs for really interesting potential bodytypes, styles, poses, all kinds of shapes and sizes; examine the small details of what makes each individual style work! if you can apply the strongest parts of multiple artstyles into your own, you'll be pretty damn good! it's all about having an analytical eye to the references you use. (hell, copy my style if you think it'll help lol) - draw extremely frequently! and i mean if you get to at least sketch/study drawings a lil bit every day, your growth will be exponential! i first gained my tablet 3 years ago. you wouldnt BELIEVE how much my art has grown since, like goddamn i drew like ass; but i drew extremely frequently! (i'm always trying to draw once a day! unless divine intervention ensues lmao) - don't be afraid to get it wrong, lower your own standards! theres a big chance it'll take a bit before you draw something you feel is worth it, but its important to remember you will always be bad at something before you're good at it. i look at my old artworks with embarassment, sure, but they're also a steping stone! i'm proud of where i got. - when it comes to anatomy, this is something that i just can't explain properly on text (stop by my streams sometime and ask me again lol) but pay attention to the sizes of the heads of the characters, their limbs, their hands, think about what the size of everything means to their actual proportions, how believable they are. (an example: a tall character will have a large body but a belivably small head, its a slight adjustment, but when you see it well, you'll notice it always when it comes to height.)

[nih-nih]

I'm really just a silly who love drawing her favorite characters...

...and their genderbent versions, and boobs too I guess... I don't bite, I swear, but I'm bad at starting conversations, so feel free to talk to me hehe (●'◡'●)

Below is some ramble about my drawing journey ~

I have to thank a friend of mine, who I met during university. She was the one who helped me to find joy in drawing, taught me how to draw anatomy more correctly (I'm still bad at it but I now can see where I do wrong, even though I cannot fix those problems yet lol). I learned a lot watching her drawing in our classes together (we really did not pay attention to class.....). Yeah, she was also the one who pulled me into Hetalia....!

I drew some commissions during this time with dirt cheap prices like $3-$10 for full colored pictures that took me at least 2-3 days to complete lol. Here is the very first commission I made in 2016, I still like it very much (I nuked my dA account so yeah, I have no idea who was the customer for this one...I'm sorry ; - ;; )

My happiest moment was when I gave customer two sketch options and they said they wanted both lol....

Here are almost all of the commission I've made

Then after Uni, I went to work and was severely burned out...I did drew some arts for HalBarry but it was 5 years ago (wow time flies...). After them, I drew very little to the point of none. It must have been at least 4 years since I was last serious about drawing.

Until the beginning of this year, I got to work from home, yay, I finally have time and pick up my pen again. At this point, I have to thank Patalliro and BanMara for making me pick up drawing again xD!!! Then I fell back into the old pit (yes it's you ZeroX), reading their doujin, seeing all the wonderful artworks and fanfics about them on Pixiv, I suddenly want to contribute too. I love them so I want to draw them out, I want to materialize my plots for them...I want to force people to look at my creations so I post them online haha-

Though my job right now is kinda unstable (good pay for single adult though) and I'm in early mid life crisis of what I really want to do with my life...I like my current situation, it's like my dream job and situation, but as I said, it's not stable, it could end anytime. And at my age (I'm not THAT old but the job market is really harsh where I live), it's really hard to find a new job, but oh well, I guess thing is as good as it gets, I hope teehee

[shima-draws]

Omg modern day OP AU sounds so fun!! I wonder what subjects in school the Strawhats would be good at and what kind of grades they'd get 🤔

YEAHHH actually it's funny you bring that up bc I was literally thinking about that recently. Here have some headcanons

Luffy: Spends most of his time in class not paying attention or goofing off but somehow still manages to coast through years of school with decent grades. Nobody knows how he does it they never see him study he just passes the tests and they're all SO mad about it. He either has the opinion of "Idk they're all fun!" or "Idk they're all boring!" when it comes to subjects specifically.

Robin: Straight A student with no effort. Excels in history/social studies. She's the kind of person who reads textbooks for fun.

Nami: Straight A student with a lot of effort, she studies her ASS off and is a bit jealous at how easy it is for Robin to ace all her classes. She's really good with numbers (money) so she excels in math!

Zoro: Doesn't put in the effort unless it interests him, so his grades are kinda a mixed bag across the board. He's probably failing some classes and outright nailing others. You know he's best at any sort of PE class lol. He also does kendo!!

Sanji: Probably couldn't care less about a lot of classes so he's similar to Zoro in this aspect. But since he's competitive he'd at least make it so his grades are better than Zoro's. Has solid As and Bs all around. Absolutely fucking dominates in home ec/any kind of cooking class. (He's working to get into culinary school.)

Usopp: He's in the same boat as Nami, he studies a lot and tries to get good grades but it doesn't come to him as easy as it does to Nami and Robin. Like Sanji his grades are around the A-B range. Honestly I can kinda see him doing really well in like, physical art media? Like sculpture? Since he builds and tinkers all the time. Oh and also any computer class he's good at too, he's the tech wiz of the group for sure ;)

Chopper: I guess he'd be human in a modern AU lol?? Anyway he's obvious, he's super good with science, biology and anatomy and medicine especially. He doesn't really get the other subjects as much so his grades are Bs and Cs there.

I would add Brook, Franky and Jinbe but I haven't gotten to their introductory arcs yet so I don't know them as well 🤧

[katyspersonal]

hello again, i'm the anon from the waifu/blorbo thing just checking in. it was quite surprising to see the ask i made when i was feeling sorta petty would spiral in all that lol

to answer why i stay anon, its because I'm just a "filthy lurker" tbh. im not really sociable or talented enough that i feel like interecting directly in the fandom, and i'd rather avoid the headaches that come from exposing myself to its more annoying parts lol. i understand its different for artists tho, you guys do us a great service

but Holy Shit your situation was quite bonkers. it is kind of funny that i might have helped you out with this apparently lmao. all it took was the right ask at the right time, crazy how that works

best of luck to you and thank you for being based lol. it isn't easy with such persistent haters but i hope you keep it up

Thank YOU for being based, the moment I read what you said I knew EXACTLY what you were talking about! And yes, it is a reliably stable way to piss that person off enough to 'act' by poking the holy dogma of "Maria is a masculine lesbian and everyone with a different interpretation is a bigot" with a stick in any way shape or form. Imagine being easily caught just because you can't stand bisexuals or women that can combine badassery and tenderness?

I'll have you know though, that fanart or fanfics are NOT a "rent" you have to pay to be considered a "valid" part of the fandom! You say you don't feel like you belong here... but you do, as long as you love BB and want to interact with other fans and support them. I am not the most fantastic artist either; my anatomy is still a long way to go and I finish my works very slowly, but it is my passion why I am here! :)

As for the annoying parts of the fandom,...

Honestly, you don't need to worry, at least not on Tumblr. Redditbros tend to stay away in their own circles and all you have to do is to not go on Reddit for sharing things like headcanons, drawings, ships etc. As for the bullies (oh, pardon, the completely civil people that are not encouraging harassment but simply spread "awareness" in order to excile people they dislike from the safe wholesome fandom uwu); they will typically do you a favour if they drop your name as "yiiiikes this person is nasty for [reason] block them girlies!", since this way the fake ones will self-isolate from you as a result and YOU won't see THEIR bad takes! And toxic Maria fans usually function by one 'main' guy vs their simps that got easily influenced. Before the current guy (you know who by now) it was someone else spreading bad takes about "misogynist" Gehrman and "violated masculinity" of Maria, boasting about how they ignore all lore and (mis)translation evidence against their One True interpretation. That person matured though, and the simps they influenced dissolved and became nuanced. The current guy is chronically unable to mature, learn and admit mistakes; but at the same time, popular accounts popularised a "compromise" take that portrays Gehrman as missing the mark but having good intentions that get way more traction and toxicity is overshadowed by them 🤔

What I am saying is, you can avoid annoying parts reliably easily! You probably are seeing like same two people starting controversy every time from your "corner"... and it is BECAUSE there are not that many. They are just loud. If you are in the room with 20 people, 19 of which are adults minding their own business and 1 is a screaming baby, who will you pay more attention to? I'd love to see you make an account, tbh, but if you really don't want to.. Well, still feel free to send me asks, gripes or headcanons or questions or whatnot!

[practically-an-x-man]

surprise! your OCs are required to attend Professor Barbara Allen's forensics lectures for a semester! what's the ratemyprofessor review they give her and how do they do?

oooh bestie you have NO idea what's coming, I literally WAS a forensics major before I switched to trade school :D

some long answers here, so they'll be under the cut. thank you so much for the ask!

Ophelia: 5 stars. Loves the lecture, takes exceptionally detailed notes and ends up with curve-breaking high grades. Her only problem would be missing class due to late night hero work making her exhausted in the morning, but... well, she feels like Professor Allen's very familiar with that.

Jasper: 4.4 stars. They're a nursing student, so they don't mind gruesome pictures or high-intensity anatomy discussions, but they feel like Professor Allen just goes a bit too fast in the lectures (lol). They'd pull good grades, and probably end up with a bit of unintentional extra credit when Professor Allen lands in the ER with some unexplained cuts and bruises and Jasper's the one to stitch her up and send her on her way.

Kestrel: No rating. Probably didn't even show up to the first lecture. To be fair, pretty much all of their higher education has come from exploring and adventuring in the wilderness. They probably weren't even aware they'd been signed up for the lecture. (but don't take it personally, if they were there, they'd be sure to pay attention)

Rae: Originally rated 3.5 stars, but bumped it up to 4.5 after Prof. Allen was kind and understanding in offering her an extension. She did well enough in college the first time around (Masters in Foreign Language), but she also struggles with severe insomnia and some anxiety issues. At first, she probably say Prof. Allen as somewhat distant, but once she actually went up and talked to her and explained everything, she actually ended up with a renewed respect and finished the rest of the semester very well.

Robin: Hm... 3 stars. Not a bad class, but she's much more music-inclined than science-inclined, and having an ASL interpreter would've made the class a hell of a lot easier for her (that's not Professor Allen's fault, of course, but still wasn't the best experience for Robin). She'd probably end the semester decidedly neutral - not her favorite experience, but would also understand that it's probably a very enjoyable class for someone who enjoys the material a little more.

Madison: 4.5 stars. She likes psychology a lot, so she'd probably really enjoy a forensics class, and I feel like she'd like Professor Allen as an instructor. And I feel like she'd be able to keep up with the lectures pretty well! She's a quick thinker. If anything, she'd be a little irritated by the amount of studying she needs to do, but that's the only thing keeping her from a full 5 stars.

Quinn: It really depends. Either she'd get fed up with all the stifling structure and order of the class and end up dropping out (and rating Prof. Allen pretty low), or she'd actually find the material interesting and would end up at the top of the class. It's not really a matter of capability or intelligence, she's got plenty of both, but she'll only bother with the class if she enjoys the subject being taught. So... it's a coin flip.

Katherine: She wouldn't enjoy the class, but she'd rate Professor Allen highly anyway (4 or 5 stars). After all, she's a good professor, Katherine just isn't really a fan of that sort of subject. She's plenty smart, but she's much more artistic-minded than forensics would imply. The only reason she'd take the class to begin with is for the promise of forensic sketch artistry, but even that's only a week and a half out of the full semester.

[enekorre]

dude, hoping i don't sound pretentious but i feel like the greatest advice for people who try to defend ai art w/ 'but what if i want art?' is srsly to just make some of your own like yeah it has a 90% chance of being bad but like ive been there and its SO SO worth it to just learn the trade. its helped my self-confidence, patience and artist spaces are great places to spend time. the world can never have enough ppl making art. Give it some time. artists have resources 4 other artists too!

Exactly! When I started being serious about learning to draw I created an account on deviantArt, looked at art that looked like what I wanted to make daily, and I doodled! I'm no great artist, but after being at it on and off for 13 years I'm happy with where I am. Will I ever be able to draw a face? No. Can I draw my dragons and my nature scenes and my werewolves? Fuck yes!

Like yeah, obviously your shit is gonna suck in the beginning. Everyones does. But buy some paints or crayons or pencils from the kids art supplies row, sit down at home at a place that can get dirty, and play around! Art is really fun! And don't worry about anatomy or anything. If you find that you really wanna learn how to draw something (say, a wolf), you go and look at wolf art you like, pictures of wolves, the skeletons in the museums, etc. Look up some youtube videos about perspective!

When I was 13 and just starting out, the thing people always told me and all the other 13 year olds was "practice!". It sucked to hear, because at the time you wanted to be able to draw the best and most amazingest sparkle-wolf known to man immediately. But you couldn't. So you doodled in maths class. You spent time on art forums. You payed extra attention in art class.

Just because you're an adult now doesn't mean you're cursed to never be able to draw. You just have to sit down and practice. You didn't start when you were a kid, so you might feel like you can never do it, but all you have to do is catch up. And if you're an adult, you have so many more options about how to go about learning. In my town, they occasionally hold free drawing and painting courses. I've never attended (mainly bc I didn't know they existed until yesterday when I got a magazine about it in the mail lol) but I'm sure something similar exists in most towns. Otherwise, there's always the internet.

Making stuff tends to be a really good feeling. Even if you're frustrated when doing it, when you're finally finished you can look at your thing and go "I made that". If your art comes out funky and you hate it, try again. If it's really not working out, (the answer is try again) you can always try another kind of art. Maybe knitting is your thing? Origami? Gardening?

There's so many skills out there and like everything else, they require time and practice.

[howhow326]

Computer was beating my behind today

The Raptor: Full body design

Yay, I finnaly drew my ml oc after two fan fics of vauge descriptions that contradict each other because I couldn't think of an outfit. And yes, drawing hands killed me. Yes, he is barefoot in the first picture and I didn't draw feet because I didn't want to die again.

Timothy Césaire's backstory (again):

Alya's cousin from New York City, Timothy Césaire used to be a normal, not so mild-manner middle school student who's only concern was getting good grades and dealing with bullies. But his life would change permanently after getting an intership at Hill incorporated; the cover for Majestia's laboratory. As fate would have it, Timothy's job for his first day to observe a resurrected, radioactive Velociraptor. However, one of the scientists left it's cage open on accident, which lead to the creature escaping it's enclosure and biting Timothy. Eventually, Timothy realized that the event had given him a superpower, the ability to move so fast that the world around him slowed down. This motivated him to create the persona of The Raptor, a new super hero who would help the helpless. At first, the United Heroez tolerated his presence and even encouraged him to join him. But everything changed when the Raptor stole from Audrey Bourgeois; He left a calling card in her house that claimed she had stolen designs from unpaid interns and that he would make her pay. Even with all the money and power in NYC, Audrey was powerless to stop the Raptor from stealing thousands of dollars worth in money... and secretly giving it to the poor. From that point onward, The Raptor was officially known as as a super villain. But it wasn't the end for Timothy. Its just the begginng of the end for the powerful in New York.

Wanna know some fun facts about Tim?

Design backstory

I'll start with Tim's civilian outfit, it's just a color swapped version of Alya's outfit.

Now that that's out of the way:

My original idea (that I never drew) of the Raptor's design was going to be something like tuxedo mask with a hoodie and long feathers on his arms instead of a cape.

Then Argos stole his look

So when I wrote Funk Up The Night, I thought up a different outfit that would look waaay different from Felix; something like what a Victorian era working class person would wear to contrast Timothy from the 2(+ Felix) super villains dressed like aristocrats. The design would have baggy clothing with a newsboys hat instead of a hood and a tattered blue neck tie that would be like the main attention grabber of the design.

I ended up keeping the the neck tie part for this one, but I swapped the cap out for a visor (that can go through Timothy's hair without destroying it lol)

Anyway, I wanted to do base this design off of something from Martinican culture as I headcanon Alya (& Tim) as being born from there and moving to France (/U.S.).

It was there that I encountered the Neg Gwo Siwo, a Martinican carnival character covered in black that's a symbol of rebellion against oppression.

What a coincidence that I already imagined Timothy as having a mostly dark design!

So I used dark blue skin to blend in with Tim's black clothes (actually a really dark shade of green).

I added some gold bands with hints of red and green

And done!

I made a good design with bad anatomy because I don't understand arms lol

[dreadlock-detective]

Hello. I wanted to complement you on your artwork. I looked through your gallery and was fascinated by your work so far, especially on Dindle. How did you came up with your character designs? If others wanted to start drawing characters, what your advice for them?

Aww, thank you for the kind words!

That's a pretty broad question that I don't know how much help my answer will be, but how I come up with character designs, and what I'd recommend for anyone is pretty simple: Pay attention to the stuff you like and put that kind of stuff in your designs!

Like, while I wasn't thinking of it specifically (as far as I can remember), I can draw some direct lines between Dindel and Shining Force 2's healer, Sarah. Particularly the bundled cloth around her, and the collar coming up and covering part of her neck

Not the same thing as I gave Dindel (in her original outfit anyway), but I've just always liked that look~ Dindel's design kind of cranks it up further to just be a BIG bundle

Or to be more goofy, Dindel and another character of mine, Caelia, both share similar facial structure, because those features are similar to my wife's face because I'm quite fond of her and think her face is pleasant to look at lol

And a few quickfire tips:

First and foremost, if you're just starting out: have fun! You'll stick with it a heck of a lot easier if you don't fret so much and just do what's fun! I didn't learn things like proportions and anatomy for an embarrassingly long time but I just draw for fun and didn't have any incentive to learn that stuff until I wanted to take that step for myself.

Pay attention to how other people look. How they dress. How they stand and walk. How their noses curve. The angles of the mouth. How wide or narrow set their eyes are. Stuff like that. Sounds super weird and it PROBABLY is, but I find people's features fascinating with how different and interesting they can be lol. You can draw a greater range of designs if you're more familiar with how big of a range exists in reality!

Unless you're super satisfied with the first version of a character that you create, don't be afraid to iterate on the idea. Change things around, see what looks better. To use Dindel as an example, she didnt change THAT much from her first concept, but the first version isn't quite the floofy haired shorty she'd become~ Other characters of mine have had much more drastic changes over years and years but I'd have to go digging through art to find examples that were never posted lol

Anywho, hope that helps maybe? If not, ah well I got a good rambling out of it and that's always a good time lol. There aren't any rules to this stuff, just whatever makes sense and works for you! I wish you the best!

[repecca]

Hii! How long did it take you to be comfortable drawing characters without difficulty? Is it only possible to draw characters perfectly if you master anatomy? I love your art so much btw!💕💕

Hi! I still have difficulty drawing characters sometimes so I can't answer your first question lol. I don't know what you mean by "perfect", but to me as long as the anatomy is not wildly off to the point where it's distracting and the overall gesture is appealing you're good. There are certain features people will pay more attention to than others though, like faces and arms/hands.

[fbfh]

daddy? sorry - billy hargrove x reader smut

wc: 5.6k

genre: SMUT

pairing: billy hargrove x fem/afab/fem anatomy reader (no pronouns I don't think but he calls you mommy and wants to get you pregnant real bad lol)

summary: you accidentally call billy daddy one too many times, and he's now determined to level the playing field and make you a mommy.

warnings: HELLA breeding kink, a lot of daddy and mommy (mostly billy calling you and him mommy and daddy), mild neck grabbing, petnames (dollface, sweetcheeks, angel, doll, sugarlips, toots, slut, whore, mommy, pretty thing), a lot of good girl-s, boners and grinding, groping, you actually say "daddy sorry" once lol, billy is kind of mean and teases you a bit, light humiliation, edging, some use of the phrase "knock you up", billy is very dominant, a loooooot of eye contact (some face grabbing to ensure eye contact), billy is swole as fuck, some unintentional temperature play, billy is wearing rings, some biting, praise, degradation, praise AND degradation, a lot of kissing with tongue, referenced oral (f recieving), billy has a MONSTER shlong, fingering with 2 - 3 fingers, fingering with rings, manhandling, some spanking, praise kink, billy pays a lot of attention to you (attention kink???? does that exist???), minor handjob/m recieving foreplay/prep, legs over shoulder position, restraint (he holds your hands above your head), cervix kissing, buff billy + size kink, "use your words", billy loves your tiddies a lot, multiple orgasms, PROLONGED EYE CONTACT, billy is kind of obsessed with you, some misogyny (as a treat) (could also be interpreted as sexy fun slutshaming if you squint??), nipple and boob play, finger sucking, belly bulge, a lot of pregnancy dirty talk, overstimulation, mating press, sexy threats to keep you pregnant?????, unhinged feral primal billy, cockwarming and cum plugging, some dumbification, I think that's it dear god

music rec: I feel like I was made for lovin you by kiss fits p well (i'm still working on my billy playlist lol)

a/n: so....... a lot happens in this. i've been thinking non stop about this for a while. billy hargrove can toss me around like a ragdoll and call me wifey any fucking day. also can we talk about how fucking hot he looks in this gif??????? also kind of want to write some darker billy fics, more posessive smutty stuff yk

please let me know what you think of this i'm fucking obsessed

also I read a fic once where billy said "daddy daddy, don't call me daddy unless you want me to make you a mommy" AND I CAN'T FIND THE FIC NOW (IF I CAN FIND IT I'LL LINK IT HERE CAUSE WOW)

tags: @hopefullhearts @littlewinter1917 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

AS WITH ALL NSFW WORKS ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP TO 18+

The first time was an accident. An honest to god slip of the tongue that you insist was not your fault. Seriously, if anyone else had had Billy Hargrove, fresh out of the shower and adorned in nothing but gray sweatpants smack their ass with that cocky smirk of his, you're sure they would have let a 'daddy' slip out as well. Nevertheless, you’d blanched. Mortified, you had been ready to politely pretend it hadn’t happened and move on. You expected nothing but the same from Billy, maybe the occasional teasing comment at worst. What you had decidedly not expected was for Billy to place his hand on the back of your neck and lower his lips to your ear, voice breathy and dangerous.

“It’s really in your best interest if you don’t call me that again, dollface.”

And that was it.

You took his word, not calling him that, not even bringing up the incident itself. As weeks and weeks pass, you soon begin to find it progressively harder not to call him that. You’re sure it’s just because of how adamant he was that you not use that particular pet name, but for reasons still beyond your understanding, now it was suddenly all you could seem to think about. Every time you see him, every time you think of him, your brain repeats it over and over, and you find yourself having to stifle it manually a lot more than you did before.

Your mind is suddenly torn from these worries one day when you find yourself leaning against the kitchen counter, clinging to Billy’s muscular arm wrapped around you. His chest is warm, pressed up against the curve of your back, lips pressing playful nips and kisses along your neck. His half hard dick is pressing against your ass, and his other hand finds its way down your pants, palming you through your soft panties. He murmurs dirty nothings into your ear, heel of his hand grinding down on your puffy clit. You’re so swept away by his touch that for just one moment, you lose focus. And in that one moment, it somehow slips out, breathy and desperate.

“Daddy…”

You both freeze. Heat rises to your face and you scramble to recover, and Billy is now fully hard behind you, a rush of heat pooling in his core as what you said rings in his ears.

“Sorry,” You sputter, “I- I didn’t mean that, I, uh…”

You’re so nervous and it’s so cute, Billy thinks, as you fumble for an explanation, that he can’t help but tease you a little. Maybe more than a little. He begins to play with your clothed cunt again, pace agonizing.

“You meant…” he prompts, voice low and expectant. You’re clearly having trouble focusing on what you were trying to say, which he exacerbates by once again, grinding the heel of his hand into your clit. Don’t say daddy, don’t say daddy, don’t say daddy, don’t say-

“Daddy- sorry!” you slip again. Your words hang in the air. He lets out a breathy chuckle, enjoying this way too much, as he lazily plays with your burning heat, warm and puffy, sensitive to his touch from the extent of your arousal. He leans closer to your ear, consumed by a new kind of hunger.

“Daddy, daddy,” he whines mockingly, voice treacherously sincere, “I warned you last time, sweetcheeks,” his gestures get sharper, punctuating his words, and his breath fans over your neck.

“Don’t call me daddy unless you want me to make you a mommy.”

You can’t restrain yourself from letting a whiney moan slip out in spite of your best efforts to stay quiet, to not let his teasing get a rise out of you no matter how effective it is. The sound rings beautifully in his ears, and his fingers push aside the fabric of your underwear.

“You know,” He begins, dipping between your folds, spreading around the sweet sticky wetness with his fingers, and your eyes flutter closed at the skin on skin contact you’ve been so desperately needing, heart pounding in your chest, loud and heavy. His tone of voice is almost too light, too casual, and you know he’s enjoying seeing you like this so goddamn much. He continues, getting lower and more gravley in your ear, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think you want me to knock you up.”

His voice, his words alone are enough to send even more burning heat to your core, and your grip tightens on his arm. You can feel yourself dripping, squeezing out thick wet beads that drip down his fingers. He’s still edging you, and he can tell by your reaction that he’s doing a bang up job of riling you up, getting you all hot and bothered just for him.

“Huh?” he asks rhetorically, “You want that, doll?” You tilt your head back against him, trying to hold on to your senses. He finally begins to pump his long, thick fingers into you, just a little, and your grip tightens even more. His rings brush against your sensitive skin, the metal cool and rough, and it sends even more electricity through you. He cranes his neck, face moving closer to yours.

“You want to make me put a baby in you?”

“Yes,” you pant, without a second thought. He’s finally about half way in, scissoring your spongy elastic walls, stretching you out for what’s coming.

“Yes…” he prompts, coaxing more out of you. He wants to hear you say… what, he’s not exactly sure. Anything would sound nice coming from your lips at a time like this, and his repetition of your answer hangs between you, waiting for you to continue.

You squirm in his rock strong grip, ass grinding back against him, managing to half twist around enough to look up at him. You stare up at him, biting your lip with those big fuck me eyes that drive him wild. You look at him for a second, pulling all the breath from his lungs so easily, the way only you seem to be able to.

“Yes daddy.”

Everything leading up to this had been rumbling in the horizon, a premonition of what’s to come, and now with your words, you’ve happily sealed your fate. You’ve awakened something in him, in both of you. He lets out an excited chuckle, disbelieving how turned on two words from you have made him.

In one swift movement he pulls down your pants and hastily shoved aside panties, and has you sitting up on the counter, facing him, as he stands between your legs. The cold countertop sends a shiver up your spine, providing a stark contrast to your burning hot, fully exposed cunt. One hand comes up to the side of your face and he runs his thumb over your lip. You part your lips gently at his touch, and he uses this opportunity to connect his to yours. His kiss is deep and with purpose and you instantly want more.

One hand on the back of your neck, the other grabs at the soft flesh of your hip and thigh, making its way back down to your cunt. You’re grinding against his hand before he can even plunge his big, long fingers back into your dripping heat, and he bites your lip as a silent warning. Behave. You can practically hear him saying it, in that playful dangerous way of his, where you’re never quite sure how empty his threats to punish you and turn you into a good little slut for him are.

His tongue prods past your lips, curling and thrashing in your mouth, warm and full. He flicks it against yours, and you know the gesture is deliberate - reminder of how good it feels between your legs. It’s not lost on you, especially now, as his fingers expertly pump and curl against your tight walls, scissoring and stretching you out for his throbbing cock. God, you wish it was already inside you, but you know he’s so big you can’t realistically take him without plenty of prep. Plenty of fingering and licking and stretching that Billy is more than happy to provide.

He slowly works in a third finger, and you clench around him. He hums into your mouth, sending low reverberations through your lips. You can tell from how he’s working his fingers against your tight wetness, ensuring you’re thoroughly stretched out, that you’ve really excited him. He focuses all his energy on you, on making you feel good, and tries his hardest to resist the urge to start humping your leg while he does. By the time you’re moaning into his mouth, hands grabbing desperately for his cock, he feels he’s done his job sufficiently.

Feeling how tight you got around him in the last few minutes, he drags his fingers up and down, focusing on the spot that makes your hips jerk, and finally, you cum hard around his fingers. The euphoric sensation swims through you like champagne, and he lets out a loud moan that makes your cheeks hot. Feeling you pulse and throb, tight against his fingers, is driving him fucking crazy. He knows now more than ever that he needs his cock inside you, right fucking now.

He pulls his fingers out, dripping and wrinkled from your wetness, already missing your tight embrace. Your walls flutter around the noticeable absence, and you feel so empty. You whine at the loss of contact and he smirks.

In one fluid motion, he hoists you up over his shoulder, carrying you with one arm. You squeal in delight as he makes his way to the bedroom, landing a very firm, satisfying smack to your exposed ass and pussy, sending electricity to your cunt and heat to your face. He’s left with a wet patch on his hand, and an even stronger desire to fuck you till you can’t think straight.

Moments later, he walks you both into the bedroom, effortlessly tossing you onto the bed. You bounce when you land, scooching further back as he takes off his pants and shirt, crawling on top of you. He approaches like a hungry jungle cat, dangerous and anticipating you. Any other time he’d take plenty of time to admire you thoroughly, gaping and dripping just for him, just from his fingers. He would fawn over you, telling you what a pretty pussy you have, how he can't wait to stretch you out and ruin you, can't wait to make you scream his name.

But this time, for once, he can't wait. He guides your hand with his, moving automatically to his cock (which you can’t even wrap your hands all the way around), and you begin to pump him a few times to get him all warmed up. He lets out a heavy breath, your touch euphoric. Right as you start to drag your finger across the head, he lets out a moan, removing your hand before it becomes too much for him to bear.

Propped up on your elbows, he tears off your shirt, gazing at your newly exposed chest. He takes in your form, cheeks flushed. He pushes you down flat against the soft bed, where you land with a bounce. His large hands move to your thighs, groping the soft flesh, filling you with a hazy warmth.

"I love it when you touch me like that," you breathe, and you can see the anticipation, the hunger building in his eyes. He smirks looking down at you with a smoldering expression that sends a fresh wave of butterflies through you.

"There’s plenty more where that came from, toots."

Before you can even blush, his grip on your thighs tightens as he throws your legs on his shoulders, leaning over you, and presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to your lips. He’s not stopping at folding you in half, you realize as he proceeds to pin both your arms over your head, holding your wrists with one hand, gripping the sheets with the other. He begins to roll his hips into yours, and he moans, fully inside you in just a few thrusts.

If he hadn’t rendered you both speechless and breathless in a mere few seconds, you’re sure you’d be a moaning mess, too. Somehow, in spite of all that, he manages to draw a moan out of you, which is instantly muffled by his tongue fucking into your mouth. He loves that. He loves the feeling of you desperately whining against his tongue. It makes his grip on the sheets tighten even more, knuckles going white against the cool metal of his rings, and the chain of his necklace grazes against you in sync with his hips.

He pulls apart, letting out a long, low moan that quickly turns into a chuckle, his breath fanning over your skin. His eyes bore into yours, and you can feel him rubbing up against your cervix with every deliberate thrust. It’s a feeling that was entirely foreign to you until you had met Billy. Not only is he the only one you’ve met that’s actually big enough to reach your cervix, but he also knows exactly what to do and exactly how to do it to make you feel so, so good - a skill he’s most definitely using to his advantage right now. It adds a whole new layer, another pleasurable hum to the symphony he’s creating with your bodies.

“Atta girl,” he praises sweetly, eyes never leaving yours, “just like that…”

Jesus Christ, you look so goddamn hot and fuckable when you’re splayed out beneath him like this, all submissive just for him. That doe eyed fuck me look on your face, while his hand is wrapped around your wrists, legs pinned down, it makes him want to fill you up even more than he did before. He knows for a fucking fact that if he could see your pussy right now, it would look amazing.

He’s really, really glad he’s hitting it raw right now, because if he somehow wasn’t currently about to knock you the hell up, he’d do whatever he had to to make sure he could. All he wants right now is to make you feel good, and fuck a baby into your needy little cunt. Based on the volume and frequency of your whiny moans and other noises, he’s doing a pretty damn good job.

He’s looking at you with this wild drive, this intensity, this hunger you haven’t seen anywhere else. His broad shoulders and muscular torso press into you, providing a nice sense of weight and pressure that somehow makes all this feel even better. The heat from your bodies radiates off each other as you pant, trying in vain to catch your breath from everything he’s done to you, everything he’s made you feel.

You snap out of the thought, stretched and accustomed to his size after a few moments, and he finally begins to move. The pace he sets is agonizing and perfect and you let out a long, breathy moan. A deep satisfaction begins to work its way through you as you’re stuffed with his cock, finally feeling full the way you’ve been craving for… a while, you realize. You didn’t notice how badly you missed Billy’s touch, his cock, the way he fills you up and stretches you out.

It hasn’t even been that long since the last time he rearranged your guts, you suppose, you’re just a little bit addicted to his cock by now. He hits a spot inside you that has you whining again, and you reluctantly admit to yourself you’re more than a little addicted. Much more. You feel him twitch inside you, making you even more aware of how well he fills you up, how deep and thick he is inside you, and you let out a shuddering sigh as he moans, breath fanning each other's faces.

Meanwhile, Billy can’t help but revel in how tight you are. You have a vice grip on his cock, squeezing him more perfectly than he could imagine, and no matter how many times you fuck, you always feel so much better than he expects. You’re warm, and tight, and wet; exactly the right grippy texture to make his cock twitch and leak tons of precum. You stimulate him better, more perfectly than anyone or anything he’s ever encountered.

He dwells on this feeling for a few seconds as you adjust to the swell of his cock, and the rhythm he’s splitting you in half to, simply allowing himself to really enjoy the feeling of being inside of you. Under any other circumstances he’d do things a little differently - he’d for sure go down on you until you cum at least three times, and that’s just to start with - but tonight is different. Tonight, he’s not just fucking you, he’s not just going to pleasure you until you’re both seeing stars. No, tonight, he’s on a mission to get you pregnant. Right fucking now.

It takes every single ounce of restraint and self control he has to maintain the pace he’s set, which is just slow enough for you to feel every single sensation he’s giving you, but not slow enough for your focus to stray from him for one moment. Every single thought you have is Billy, Billy, Billy, which is exactly how he wants you. You whine, trying to squirm below him, but you can’t move much with the way he has you pinned down below him. The noises you make, the way you writhe against him, the way you say his name in a breathy little sigh has him fighting to keep his composure.

It’s so difficult for him not to go absolutely feral with you beneath him like this, when he���s made you like this. He wants you, he craves you. It’s taking everything in him not to rush into this like a bull, but god dammit he is determined, he is going to knock you up tonight. And make you cum as many times as he can during that process. He can’t help himself as he starts growling out the filthiest shit he can think of, letting every dirty thought he has about you flow out of him.

“How does that feel, angel?” he asks, eyes burning into you, and you let out another whine in response.

“Good girls use their words,” he pants in your ear, voice low, “you want to be a good girl for Billy, don’t you?”

He’s barely gotten started and his words are already flooding you with heat, making you throb around him.

“Yes,” you manage to choke out, and he lets out a growl, satisfied with your response. He increases his pace and he fucks into you, deep and fast and hot. He lets out a moan, feeling you squeeze around him.

“That’s it,” he praises you for responding, “good whores follow daddy’s orders.” he growls. You let out a whiney, breathy moan and tighten around him. He continues his torrent of dirty talk, loving the reactions he gets out of you.

“You gonna follow orders? Huh?” he coaxes, “You gonna take my cock, be obedient for me, angel?”

You nod, whining again. His free hand releases its grip on the sheets, making its way to your stomach, pressing down. You can both feel his bulge inside you, going in and out, even more than you did before.

“Maybe I should start calling you mommy, get some practice in for when I knock you up…” he muses, voice gravely with lust. He can feel the soft, squishy flesh of your tits pressed up right against him, and they jiggle rhythmically in response to every one of his thrusts. His hand leaves your stomach, moving back up to your jaw to angle your face towards his.

He plants messy, hot kisses all over your mouth and neck, continuing to growl dirty shit right into your ear. You can barely pay attention to his very, very hot words, because Jesus fucking Christ his cock feels so good inside you. He fucks you so good, you can barley wrap your mind around it. You know later when you’re catching up with your friends over coffee they’ll ask about Billy, they’ll take one look at you and know. He’s barely gotten started with you, and you’re already cock drunk. Great.

He can see your eyes glazing over, and he knows what that look means.

“Already, sugarlips?” he asks rhetorically, a cock, teasing tone to his voice. You’re a panting, writhing mess that he’s made you into, so of course he’s going to tease you about it. You wouldn’t expect any less from him. You moan again, sounding like you’re straight out of a porn - and looking like it too, he thinks - and you try to bury your face in his neck. He doesn’t let you, kissing you more instead, so he can keep looking at your gorgeous, fucked out face.

“ ‘m close-” you manage to moan into his mouth, but he knows. Of course he knows, look at you. He can feel your muscles slowly contracting around him. He pumps into you a few more times, and somehow you tighten around him even more as you cum intensly around him. He’s balls deep inside you, and he knows if he tries to move like this he’ll come undone in an instant, which he does not want - not yet, at least. Instead, he grinds his pelvic bone into your clit to carry you through your second orgasm of the night. It works, and you convulse and writhe below him, legs shaking over his shoulders.

“Good girl…” he moans, voice dripping with praise, and just a little condescending. Just the way he knows you like it. You pulse around him, and once your grip lets up enough, he begins to pound into you again. He’s now made you cum at least twice, and does not plan on stopping. Heat floods to your cheeks as he once again takes up that relentless pace again, never ceasing to make you feel anything but euphoric.

His eyes are locked on yours, boring into your soul. The way he looks at you is so intense, and every time you squeeze them shut, or look away, he’s still staring just as intensely when you look back. The truth is, Billy really can’t get enough of you. There’s a certain high he gets from having all your attention, from being the thing that makes you feel so good you can’t stop moaning and screaming his name in spite of how much you might try.

He craves that attention from you more than anything. And dear god, you look so goddamn cute when you get nervous like that. When you look away, all blushy and flustered and fuckable, it just… does something to him. It makes that attention, that connection, so much sweeter. After you look away again, he takes his free hand and grabs your face, locking your eyes with his once more.

“Look at daddy when he’s fucking you.” he growls, and you moan relexively. He chuckles, eyes staring into your soul.

“You like that, don’t you dollface? Course you do… pretty thing like you just loves gettin’ tossed around by a big strong man.”

Fuck. He’s right, and you both know it. There’s no use trying to deny it, your moans and noises, the way you clench around him at his words are all the answer he needs. The heat generating between you two has a thin glistening sheen of sweat reflecting off his smooth skin in the low light of the room. Every noise you make (and you’re making a whole damn lot of them) is just turning Billy on more, continuing to encourage him to get you pregnant and full with his child. And he is going to get you so, so pregnant.

His free hand moves from your jawline to your tits, vehemently groping the soft flesh. He starts to play with your nipples, hard from arousal, and previously brushing against his chest, sending heat to your core. Now the heat they’re sending to your core is intentional. And it’s straight from Billy.

After a moment, he brings his thumb into his mouth, then his index finger into yours. You wrap your lips around him, sucking automatically. He pounds into you harder, curling his finger against your tongue the way he’d curled it inside you earlier.

“So good, so, so good… you gonna be a good little slut for me? Huh?” You moan, nodding as he gently finger fucks your mouth. Once he’s satisfied, he retracts his finger, hand making its way back to your tits. You spit mixes on your skin as he begins to tweak and rub your nipples again.

“Parading that tight little ass around in those shorts…” he plants another affectionate smack on your hip, grip on your wrists tightening, “calling me daddy,” he growls, pace relentless, “like that’s not gonna get you knocked up.” He chuckles as you clench around him.

Yeah, you’re definitely going to have a bruised cervix after this, but dear god it’s worth it. He’s panting, breath fanning all over you, making you even warmer than before. He fills you up so good, fucking you deep into your guts, making your head swim. Shit, you can’t get enough of him. No matter how much you fuck, you’re always craving him, craving his touch. He can’t seem to get enough of you either, practically everything you do turns him on. He’s relentless and you’re insatiable - you make a surprisingly good pair.

You’re close again, and you moan as it snaps you out of your train of thought. He can make you cum so fast it’s almost embarrassing. And you know he absolutely fucking loves it. He adores every minute of this. He loves how blushy and embarrassed you get when he’s made you cum half a dozen times back to back. You look so sweet and fucked out and flushed below him, practically drooling over his cock. He loves overstimulating you, he loves getting to watch as he actually fucks your brains out. He starts babbling out more praise, unable to hold back.

“Takin’ my cock like such a good, obedient girl,” he moans in your ear, placing hot kisses all over your face and neck. His hand is now pressing down on your stomach again, feeling his bulge stretch you over and over. The added sensation to your walls has you whining in a way that makes him throb inside you.

“F-fuck,” he chokes out, “you already feel all swolen ‘nd knocked up… gonna be so fuckin’ cute when you’re all pregnant, gonna make such a good little mommy-”

God dammit, it’s enough to send you over the edge yet again. You cum hard, convulsing around his cock, letting out a torrent of porn worthy moans.

“Fuck, Billy!” you cry out, clamping and shaking around him. You’ve finally brought him to the edge, and he can’t hold back any longer this time. This time, he cums with you.

“Shit- fuck!” his moan is torn from his throat, and he almost laughs at the end. You can’t imagine feeling any more full than you do with Billy’s cock stuffed inside you, his hot body and muscular chest pressing up against yours, but when he starts pumping you full of thick, hot cum, a new kind of satisfaction washes through you.

He lets out gravely moans, almost growling into your ear as he humps into you, riding out your highs. You expect him to stop after that, or at least slow down. Your eyes, glazed over with pleasure, widen in excitement and anticipation as he continues, speeding up to the pace he was keeping before. He fucks his cum deeper inside you, and with your hips slightly angled upwards, he knows he can keep every drop inside you. The realization sends blood rushing to his cock, and you feel him harden inside you.

He continues pistoning into you, your sweet moans like music to his ears. In spite of how close he has you, he’s overwhelmed with desire for you. He wants to touch you, wants to squeeze your soft tits and feel you pressed up against him without your legs in the way. He wants to be even closer to you. So, he leans back without pulling out, and brings your legs off his shoulders, wrapping them around your waist. He inches his legs forward so he has you in something akin to a mating press. He pins you back down, pressing against you even more than before.

“There’s a good girl,” he coos, thrusting into you like your lives depend on it, “such a good girl for daddy huh?”

You moan in agreement. You cling on to him, already feeling the dizzy beginnings of another orgasm building up.

“Gonna make such a good mommy,” he breathes, in between pressing hot open mouthed kisses along your neck, “gonna be so fuckin’ cute… all full and pregnant…”

It lasts for hours. You lost track of how many times you’ve both cum, you’re either at or well into double digits by now, his baby fevered dirty talk never ceasing. He cums into you again, and again, and again. He’s cum inside you so many times now you’re actually starting to look pregnant. The bulge in your stomach is bigger than before, and you’re stuffed full of more than just his cock. He touches your stomach, and you can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

He continues to pound into you, hitting that spot that makes your brain short circuit. His hands are all over you, groping your soft flesh, feeling you up and gripping the sheets until his knuckles turn white. You cling onto him, scratching his back and pulling his hair.

“Maybe I should keep you like this, huh? Keep you nice and pregnant,” he lets out an animalistic growling moan, laughing deliriously at the idea, “Keep fuckin’ brats into you as quick as you can push em out…”

His cock twitches at the mere thought. He’s drunk on you, on the idea of breeding you, keeping you constantly filled up to the brim. Honestly, he seems a little unhinged at this point, and it’s really, really hot.

He cums again as he finishes the thought, and you're sure you can't possibly feel any more full than you do right now. Eventually he begins to slow down, finally stopping still, and you can feel his cock and balls twitching against your sensitive walls. Still sheathed inside you, he collapses his weight on top of you, causing your breathing to shallow slightly. His hot breath fans over your face and neck as he kisses your jawline, exhausted, and praises you for a job well done.

"Such a good girl for me… taking daddy's cock so well…"

He rubs soothing shapes into your skin.

"Gonna make such cute little babies…"

His touch is enamored as ever, providing a sense of comfort entirely unique to him.

"... Be fuckin' gorgeous, all soft and round…"

He continues to murmur every loving, still very hot thought that crosses his mind into your ear as he kisses your neck. You're both totally blissed out, and you lay in each other's embrace, enjoying the warmth and touch you share.

After a little while, you're not sure how Iong, he begins to push himself up slightly.

"I should get cleaned up…" you begin, feeling his cum sloshing around inside you, kept firmly in place by his cock. You move to scoot out from under him, but he stops you. He pushes you back down to the bed, tits jiggling.

"Ah ah ah," he says in a warning.

"Billy," you start, fighting off a flustered giggle. He grabs a pillow, sliding his hand under the small of your back. In one swift motion, he lifts you up and places the pillow under your hips. He lays back down on top of you, all without pulling out of you for a moment. You let out a noise as he moves against your sensitive flesh, grunting as he settles against you.

"I have to get cleaned up…" you trail off with a giggle.

"Oh no, no you don't sugarlips," he says, in that cocky, dominant tone of voice, "I'm gonna keep you stuffed full of me like this for a while."

He thrusts into you once or twice to emphasize his point, causing you to squirm against him - a feeling he really, truly can not get enough of.

"Cause otherwise," he continues once he’s settled back on top of you, gently crushing you with his weight, "I'd have to fill you up all over again. And I know how much you would hate that." Cloying sarcasm drips from his lips, and he feels you flutter around him and the statement, unsure if it's a threat or a promise or both.

You know he definitely knocked you up, there’s no way this didn't work exactly how he wanted it to. But you don't think that you’d mind trying a couple more times, just to make sure. On top of you, fighting off sleep to revel in your presence, your touch, your warmth, and press even more kisses into your soft skin, Billy is thinking the exact same thing.