#m is writing

[billybabyy]

i'll keep playing that goddamn song (if it keeps you alive.)

mentions of: blood, upside down flashbacks.

author note: this is the first time i’m posting something that i’ve written so please be nice 😅 i’m nervous.

word count: 823.

read on ao3.

goes with this moodboard

June, 1989

Dustin shouldn't be here.

He should be celebrating. With his friends. In Mike Wheelers stupid basement like he and the party have been planning since they were twelve. He should be there, not trudging through the headstones of Roane Hill Cemetery.

His suit looks good, tailored to fit him perfectly and even though it's longer now, Steve still helped him with his hair, just like he did for the Snow Ball of '84, he doesn't care about any of it now though, just counts the rows. 1...2...3...4... Until he finds what he's looking for.

Edward Munson.

Dustin smirks, he'd hate it, can hear Eddie telling him to scrap it off and write something cooler every time he comes here. He runs his fingers over the engraving, it's not even that old but it's mostly eroded away from all the profanities him and Wayne took turns scrubbing off that first summer after. It's clean now though as he leans back against it, fiddling with one of the rings on his fingers.

The intro to Master of Puppets plays for what feels like the 100th time in an hour—which is about the amount of time it took him to work up the nerve to actually walk here. It isn't as loud as it was that night, coming muffled through the shitty black headphones hanging around his neck—they're Eddie's... or they were Eddie's, they broke last month, sound only coming out of one side, Dustin has new ones now, orange ones hanging on a hook in his room, but he needed these ones tonight. The music is almost loud enough to drown out the sound of gurgling blood he still hears in his head... almost.

He turns the volume up a little higher.

"End of passion play, crumbling away, I'm your source of self-destruction."

It startles him, James Hetfield screaming in his ears, he usually restarts the song before he even has a chance too, forgets that there's still another seven minutes and thirty seconds of the song he’s never heard. Eddie never played him the part that comes after, just the intro over and over while he was learning it. Dustin can still hear him talking about how he'd sweettalked the girl behind the counter at the RadioShack to get him a copy early. If the after sounds anything like how he feels right now he doesn't care for it, as far as he's concerned, the after sucks... 

He hits rewind and then play, sparking up the joint he had tucked behind his ear over the first strum of Kirk Hammett's guitar—it's the last of what he could save from Eddie's locker before Principal Higgins had it cleared out, kept it safe all these years, hidden away, special for tonight, doesn't care if it's still good or not. He doesn't cough anymore either, not like the first time, not now that he's used to it, just lets the smoke fill up his lungs and let's the too sharp edges of his mind turn fuzzy.

"Bad—ba..." His voice strains, squeaks and crackles like he's back stumbling through the upside down, ankle broken and throbbing, screaming for Eddie, the sound of bats screeching overhead. He turns the music up a little louder, wipes the clammy sweat from his hands on his fancy slacks and tries again, "Bad news first, right?" The silence of the cemetery tugs at him but he takes it as response enough, "Well, bad news... you weren't there." He blows out a shaky breath, blinks away the tears starting to burn behind his eyes and takes a piece of paper out of his suit jacket—folded, even though his mom told him not too. "Good news," He says, unfolding it, tossing it in front of the tombstone, "Good news, I finally graduated."

Rewind. Play.

Everyone had been there, his mom, Steve, Robin, hell, even Wayne was in the front row, the seat beside him left empty... He stares at it. His diploma, doesn't know why Eddie worked his whole damn life for it, it's just a stupid piece of paper, he thinks.

He leans his head back against the grave, tears rolling steady down his cheeks now, "You should've just ran."

The air in the cemetery seems to change, like something's on the other side of it, listening, feels like it's patting him on the shoulder rather than rustling his hair with the breeze. Or maybe it’s just the weed… making his bones feel like jelly and his eyelids heavy, he's too tired to hit rewind again so he decides to just let the song play, see if there's anything in the after worth listening too. And maybe Eddie's three year old weed still has some kick to it because he thinks that he hears it, something to still keep him playing the song over and over, something to keep him from floating away, something to make the after more bearable, he hears it, between the verses, between the strums of the guitar.

"I love you, man." 

tags: @destroya2005

[demonbanisher]

Nothing like bawling your eyes out while writing cause you’ve unlocked some hidden trauma release switch in your body.

[angelbabyeddie]

‘86, baby!

welcome guys, gals and non-binary pals, this is a side blog for @billybabyy just to make some of my fave fics and art easier for me to find again.

call me m. she/her. 26. bi-curious. music lover. wannabe writer.

drama, hate and harassment will not be tolerated, the world is already screwed up enough i’d like to keep this blog a safe place for anyone and everyone. my messages and asks are always open for anyone that needs ♡

18+ only. there is smut here.

this is a billy hargrove, eddie munson and steve harrington safe blog.

masterlist | moodboards | oc list | oc tags

latest writing: i’ll keep playing that goddam song (if it keeps you alive.)

socials: ao3 wattpad twitter/X pinterest

[bishy437]

he won

bonus:

[awearywritersworld]

megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader

tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.

ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.

gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"

gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"

gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"

honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?

he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?

apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.

he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.

while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.

his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.

and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.

he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—

"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.

while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"

oh.

gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.

megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.

"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.

you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."

gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.

"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.

your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.

"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"

"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.

the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.

you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.

he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.

"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."

this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.

gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.

"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"

just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.

"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"

nice.

"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.

you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.

megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"

"shut it, kid."

[indulgentdaydream]

headcanons with attractive things jason does 😭🫶

anon i have GOT YOU

When he sits on a couch, no matter if you’re on too or not, that man is SPREAD

Arms wide and resting on the back of the couch. Manspreading his thighs wide open. A relaxed expression on his face. Maybe a book in hand.

When moving in for a kiss, he cups your face with his left hand first. Then strokes his thumb on your cheek twice while actually kissing you.

Every. Single. Time. Doesn’t matter where or when. If it’s just a peck or y’all are making out, that’s what he starts it with.

Kisses on the back of your neck if he’s walking past you and you’re looking down.

Also will keep his hands resting on your hips if standing behind you.

He’ll swear UP AND DOWN that he means nothing by it. That it’s just a habit. But will keep a hand on your thigh while driving a car. Not even sexual. Just comforting.

Opening doors for you and guiding you through with a hand on the small of your back

You’re both sleeping in the same bed? He’s dead asleep. Usually isn’t. But with you, for sure he is.

And if you slip out of his reach while he is dead asleep, he’s reaching out and dragging you back like a lost teddy bear. And he’s asleep the whole time

When you’re out eating or at a bar and he’s getting a bit anxious with all the people around, he’ll play footsies with you under the table

Got so intense once he accidentally knocked the table over and you two got kicked out

This man LAUGHS

No one talks about how Jason’s laugh (may have a fic in the works about it. I’ll finish it if y’all ask)

I’m not talking “he chuckled” or “he grinned” or “his shoulders shook with silent laughter”

I’m talking about how this man tosses his head back before leaning forward, clutching his stomach with one hand, the other reaching for some part of you to grasp as you laugh along with him. How his laughter is deep and BOOMING. It takes up a whole room. Echoes across the street. Enters your ears and melts into your blood stream and goes immediately to your heart which picks up its beating to make sure to get it to the rest of your body. How he straightens up again, his face split in a grin, eyes opening again while he has to wipe away tears of laughter, his body still shaking with it.

I want to make jason todd genuinely laugh and if the sound makes me go deaf then so be it because at least i was able to hear the most beautiful sound in the universe

I’m sorry this got off topic but

He wears glasses when he reads and that’s hot too i guess

[matchamiko]

Teaching Dabi how to eat pussy the way you like it but he’s so desperately sloppy and messy about it that you just hump his face with one hand gripping his hair and the other tight on your own throat.

He’s inexperienced, mostly, he doesn’t give often if not at all to the partners he’s had in the past, few and far between; but then you came along and all of a sudden he’s offering and begging and demanding. He’s so used to seeing pussy eating in porn, in magazines that he’s got no rhythm, no method, no thought behind his guzzling and slurping and biting. So when you anchor yourself to him with a frustrated little whine, lifting your hips and grinding smoothly and sweetly against his tongue and his nose; Touya swears sees new colours and hears new sounds. The wet click of your cunt against his lips and chin, the shuddering of your thighs either side of his head, your mumbles and gasps against your constricted throat, and your encouraging praises of him just staying right there, just like that Touya. He cums loud and wet as he looks up at you through his lashes, half angry that you’re not teaching him like you said but half insane over the state of you, using him to your heart’s content.

[foldingfittedsheets]

My friend @supernovasolace has been sharing some stories from their partner G’s eating habits and each one is funnier than the last so I finally begged permission to write about it and they both agreed. His actual permission was: “I want you to make whatever art your heart desires. Get as weird with it as you want, give me a fever dream.” This man is so much funnier than I could ever be.

The first story shared with me was fairly innocuous. The couple likes to split up who gets the last crumblies in bags of treats. If they polish off a thing of chocolates one of them gets to tip the bag back and inhale the ghostly whispers of flavor left in the container.

But the item in question was one of those tubs of chocolate salted caramels from Costco.

“Can I finish this?” He asked.

“Go nuts,” they said.

It’s worth noting that N knew this was a terrible idea but it didn’t occur to them to warn him. They simply accepted that their partner wanted to take a face full of sea salt.

He threw back the container and was immediately assaulted get it with the massive granules of salt instead of the chocolate dust he’d been hoping for.

He coughed and choked while N started laughing hysterically and realized a moment too late that he didn’t think about the contents before tossing it back.

But today they shared another story. They were settled up in bed. He was making eye contact with N when he popped a catnip Greenie treat into his mouth. The horror, they informed me, was instantaneous.

“Worse than the caramel salt?” I asked.

“So much worse. Because he did this in a bizarre power play and committed way too hard to the bit.”

When I asked his motivation the sum of it was that he’d been compelled by forces outside his control. He simply obeyed the exhortations of his soul. As a result he stared into his partners soul as tears and regret filled his eyes with each crunch.

The best thing though was that apparently one day N came home to find G in the workshop. He was crouched over an array of M&M’s like a mad scientist, X-acto knife in hand. But he only had green and yellow on his operating table. He was carefully cutting each color in half and sticking yellow to green in a freakish Frankenstein of green and yellow candy coating.

According to N it was a not insignificant number of candies that had been surgically spliced together, an assembly line of confectionary madness.

When they asked what he was doing he informed them he was, “Making Sprite flavor.”

[radarsmenagerie]

henry made it home safely with a pinup of klinger in his wallet

#just mash things

part 30

[billybabyy]

i finished writing a thing 🙊 i’ll post it tomorrow. i’m so nervous.

[sacharinee]

pairing: bf!peter x reader

synopsis: peter likes having you close to him. all the time

wc: 630 ish

a/n: surprise! another one oops. im rlly bored can u tell? cuddling prompt with peter. reader is a cheeky and annoying lil shit. one office reference. i saw a tiktok about this a long time ago and thought this would be a cute idea to write about. also does anyone know how cuddling works tho?? if ur laying on ur side, do u just lay on top of the arm ur crushing on? under a pillow? idk lol. anyways i hope u like :D

there's an ache settling in your right side that wakes you up from your sweet slumber. your head lays atop peter’s soft chest, his steady heartbeat against your ears. it was what lulled you to sleep in the first place. but with peter’s body practically being your own personal heater, the warm air filling the room, and the prominent soreness resting on your side, you began to feel uncomfortable.

“pete,” you whisper.

peter is entirely unfazed. his hold on you is strong. his face is towards you, mouth slightly ajar, letting out the softest of snores and drool out the corner of his mouth. although you love your cuddles with peter, you think he could actually suffocate you in your sleep. the boy loved to sleep, especially on top of you.

your limbs are tangled together. your left leg slung around his waist, arms around his torso, while his buff arms embrace your shoulders protectively.

ever so slightly, you begin to move your leg, retreating it back to your side as you push against his body and establish a more comfortable position. you snuggle further into peter as sleep wins you over once again.

it only lasts for a second when you wake from your boyfriend’s murmurs, he seems to talk in his sleep when he whispers your name. he huffs loudly and smacks his lips a couple of times with his brows furrowed. you feel his warm hand reach for the back of your knee to bring it over his crotch.

a confused look paints your face as you gaze up toward him. he’s asleep as dead. did he really just do that? you almost laugh out loud. his quirky behavior never fails to amuse you and has your stomach going in flips. he just wants you close to him. :(

but you think you’re funny, so you test out that theory one more time, this time blatantly stripping your leg away from him.

this gets a reaction out of peter. he seems to wake when he gusts an impatient breath, “no” and grabs your knee again, forcefully holding it against him.

in disbelief, you’re unable to contain your burst of laughter as you hold yourself up with one arm and stare at him wide-eyed, “what is wrong with you?”

“ph’shhh” peter knits his brows together, his eyes shut tight with a cute pout, as he blindly brings a hand to your face and gently shoves your head back against your pillow.

“peter-” “shut up.” he feels you lick the palm of his hand, “yuck,” but he doesn’t care to move it away from you. it’s only when you swat his hand away and settle back down against him to give him peace of mind. only for a moment, though. you have fun annoying peter, almost like a hobby. he’s halfway asleep when he feels you aggressively snatch your leg away from his hold.

“y/n!” peter groans, “stop it.” this time, your boyfriend pushes you on top of him, your entire body weight lays over his while he keeps a tight grasp on you, making sure to keep your leg over his waist and your head upon his chest.

his irritation riles you up, and you’re giggling through it all.

peter’s not having it though, not at all. he heaves another deep breath through his mouth, with the same grumpy look on his face, “why are you the way you are?”

you gasp, “me?!” “yes, you.”

not done yet, you flick his forehead, “you know, you’re so annoying sometimes, pete.”

he scoffs, “oh yea?”

“yea. a total pain in the-”

peter shoves his hand against your face and into his chest one last time, “ass.”

you decided you’ve had your fun but you’re too delighted to go back to sleep. too delighted to know that the boy you love and cherish always wants to be impossibly close to you all the time, conscious or not.

[druid-for-hire]

hawkeye and trapper get fake septums

(id under the cut)

[image id: a three-page digital comic about characters from the TV show MASH, illustrated by "druid-for-hire." On page 1, frank burns squints at Hawkeye from a short distance, who is next to Trapper, who is reading a newspaper that obscures his face. "Pierce," Burns asks, "what's on your face?" Hawkeye turns to face him, revealing a septum piercing. "what's what, Frank?" he asks. Shocked and affronted by this breach in army regulations, he shouts, "I can't!! Believe you!! It's not enough for you to disagrace the army uniform by being out of it all the time? You have to go and--and do that! You look like a punk! Or a cow!"

On page 2, Hawkeye, unbothered, replies "Y'know, Frank, I'm finally living up to the Pierce name. I was thinking about going for some ear tag earrings. Maybe I can get a nurse to pull my udders." Frank howls, "That's disgusting!" Turning to Trapper he shouts, "Did you have anything to do with this, McIntyre?" Trapper pulls down the newspaper to reveal that he's wearing three septum rings and says, "I sure did! He stole my look!"

On page 3, Frank says "You're both terrible. Both of your butts are going on report!" while Hawkeye takes out his apparently fake septum ring behind his back. "Report for what, Frank?" he asks; Frank turns to see that the piercing is now missing. "Yeah, what's the matter, Frank?" Trapper says, whose piercing is suddenly missing as well. Frank storms off, yelling "Neither of you can pull the wool over my eyes!! Just wait until General Barker hears about this!" Some time later, Frank is standing next to General Barker, pointing at Hawk. "General, I'm telling you, the hole is THERE!" he shouts. "Go and take a look in those nostrils for yourself!" There is a long and awkward pause. The General did not like that. Hawkeye remarks, "Gee Frank, take a girl to dinner first." end id]

[mi-olaaa]

Pretty girl.. (18+)

Fem!reader, softdom!ony, bf!ony, plussize!reader katoptronophilia, you alr know what it isss! Smut so no minors.. ofc. Enjoy!!

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

“Hey. Look at me mamas.” Ony murmurs into your ear, so sweetly. Too sweetly, especially for the way his dick is curving up into your gummy walls, but you listen, looking in the floor length mirror in front of you, watching how sinfully delicious he looks to you. “Onyy— fuck, i can’t” Your whines echo around the room, your head drooping slightly.

He grabs your face by your chin, gently peppering kisses, his grip on your hips tightening for a moment, as he pounds up into your dripping cunt. "Yes you can mama, this is your dick. Take it." You swear you were gonna die when he grinned so deviously at you in the mirror, the way he lowered those pretty eyes of his at you, the way his touch has you writhing under him.

You’ve been sitting on his lap in front of this damned mirror for almost an hour, looking at him bouncing you up and down by the hips, orgasm after orgasm, and he wants you to keep looking at him?

Ony's tip was reaching spots in you that you didn't even know existed, brushing up against your cervix, eliciting moans and pants from your mouth. He nips at your neck, hand leaving your chin, snaking around to your clit, rubbing circles around the puffy folds. "Baby, Ony— ouhhh please" You could feel his slender fingers on your clit, massaging the sensitive bundle.

"Please what? Use your voice pretty girl." He looks up at the mirror, watching his cock piston in and out of your pussy, and all you could do is drool. “Haah— stop teasing me please.” The moan that ripped out of your throat was pure bliss, and before you could even say it, you were squirting over his digits, some of your arousal even splattering on the bottom of the mirror in front of you two.

The clear, warm arousal of yours had him fucking into you like a madman. Ony’s grip on your hip tightened as you spasm slightly, his fingers dripping. While he had your attention on him in the mirror, he brought his fingers to his lips, licking the taste of you off of them. “Taste so fucking good mamas, need to eat you next time.” And again with that sexy gaze of his, looking directly at you this time as you nod lazily.

The way he was digging into you so deep had you damn-near screaming his name, pussy squeezing his length like a vice, milking him for all he’s got.

“Mhm mhm baby. Look at me, do what I told you, look at me.” He croons into your ear, the hand that’s not already holding you by your hips and slamming you down onto him, wraps around your torso, massaging your lovely breasts, as you come undone again.

Your moans come out wantonly, and you’re nothing but a drooling, sticky mess for him, it almost makes him wonder if it’s because you can everything in mirror? Doesn’t matter, with the way he’s filling you so good and fucking you so fast, you’re seeing stars and panting.

It’s interesting though, the way your face contorts in pleasure in the mirror to his ministrations, the way your thick thighs jiggle when you bounce on him, the tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks as your back arches so sinfully, it’s too much.

And all it does is make Ony groan, and lean down to capture one of your tears on his tongue. “C’mon mama, just one more. You think you can do that f’me?” He speaks, trying so sweetly to coax another orgasm out of you.

It takes almost all the power you have to find an orgasm in you, but you don’t have to do much with how attentive he is to you and your needs. Massaging and toying with your nipples, whispering praise in your ears, pushing all your buttons, just to see his pretty girl cum again, and you do. You come absolutely undone on his dick, a pretty, creamy white ring of your arousal at the base of his cock, all the while, he slows his thrusts, having cum into you more times than you both could count.

By the time the both of you have came to your senses, he finally pulls out of your pretty, fat pussy. Watching as dribbles of cum spill out of you, kissing your neck once again. “See, I knew you had one more in you, good job mama.” He murmurs into your panting skin, side-eyeing you in the mirror, and how you tremble slightly, looking like a deer in headlights, massaging your sore thighs, admiring the fat of them.

Too tired to do anything but nod and stick a lazy thumb up, you slump on his chest, relishing in how warm he is. Ony doesn’t bother with clean up right now, he’ll do it sometime later, all he currently cares about is getting you into bed, especially with the way you just fell asleep on him. He picks you up from the small of your back and the back of your knees, bridal-style, before getting off the edge of the bed.

Flicking off the main lights in your shared bedroom, leaving the ambient lights on, he climbs into bed, setting you down and covering you up, holding you as you both wind down, petting your head softly, and smoking a blunt before going to bed.

That dick really fucked his pretty girl to sleep.

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

Authors note: heyyyy 🤭 ion have nun to say for once.. so imma shut my fat ass up. 🙃 LOVE Y’ALL 🫶🏾

[awearywritersworld]

"how could you?"

"satoru, i—"

"save it! your excuses mean nothing to me."

the expression he's wearing is one of absolute betrayal, and the sight forces a sigh from your lips. "you know i'd never intentionally hurt you."

"yeah? is that right?" he questions, no longer able to meet your gaze. "do you even love me anymore?"

crossing the room to stand before him, you take his hands in yours. they're cold to the touch, though that's not out of the ordinary.

"of course i do, satoru. you know i love you more than anything."

"then... then why did you leave this morning without giving me a kiss?"

you lean up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his cheek before answering. "i did give you a kiss."

he perks up at the revelation, and the straightening of his shoulders is accompanied by a sniffle that you silently regard as slightly theatrical. "really?"

"yes," you laugh. "but you were asleep and i couldn't bear to wake you up. you don't get enough rest as it is."

"oh, my darling beloved!" and just like that, it's like he was never upset in the first place. "i see! you were simply worried for my health!"

you hum in response, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"then i suppose i can let you off the hook this time, but don't let it happen again."

"alright, silly boy."

he gasps, placing his hand over his heart. "me? silly? this is the first i'm hearing of it!"

[cryptid-cave]

Currently thinking about a reader who, while having a full-time job and playing the part of a “real adult” pretty well for the most part, is still kind of lost and pathetic. It feels less like they’re living and more like they’re surviving, getting by on their own with just a cat for company.

Enter John Price, who’s currently on medical leave and just itching for a project. Maybe reader works at a store near his home that he shops at almost every other day, or works at the library where he goes when he needs to get out of the house. Either way, he spots this pretty little thing who clearly needs some love and guidance, preferably from a strong, gentle hand - and who better to do that than him?

Anyways, save me bossy and demanding Price with a savior complex, save me

[mischievous-thunder]