#so i'm ~stressed~

[neonponders]

Part 29 for @wrecked-fuse ‘s pocketverse 🐚

Part 28

( pt. 7′s art 🎩 ) ( pt. 9′s art 👀 ) ( pt. 14′s art 💨 ) ( pt. 19′s art 🦇 ) ( pt. 20′s art 🍳) ( pt. 27’s art 🦦 )

~ on ao3 ~

• • •

Max strolled around the corner and stopped dead in the kitchen. “What year is it?”

Steve smiled mirthlessly at her and reached for the overnight bag as he sassed, “It’s time to get rowdy.”

“Keep your fantasies out of the communal kitchen,” she accused, but she got overshadowed by the littles’ excitement.

“Wowdy!”

“Stevie! I wanna see Biwwy’s room again!”

“I wanna see Max’s room!”

“Max! Can we see your woom?”

She took a deep breath, resigned to her fate as she magic carpeted them down the hallway to her room. Billy huffed a laugh to himself and decided on some popcorn. He figured Steve was jaded beyond belief of the microwave, butter and salt kind that Family Video sold, so he got the big popcorn pot ready.

Meanwhile, Steve wasn’t kidding about the littles needing a lot of stuff to feel at home. All of Billy’s stuff on his nightstand got demoted to a shelf on the other side of the room in favor of the shoebox going right next to the bed.

Steve’s clamshell soap dish went in the bathroom sink along with his toiletries bag on the counter. Before going back to the kitchen, he knocked on Max’s doorframe. What he found did not surprise him, prompting him to ask, “You starfishes okay in here?”

The littles were jumping over her bed, landing like starfishes on her plush, colorful and quilted comforter. Small Billy got up and exclaimed with a pointed arm, “Stevie! Wook at that! All the shewlls!”

Steve found the shell lamp he meant and frowned a little. “How heavy is that?”

“A lot,” Max said flatly.

Little Steve pointed to a collection of shells in a jar. “Can we see those?”

Max exhaled a reticent, “Uh...”

All heads turned toward the stereo in the living room. Billy turned on a synthwave-rock power ballad to fill up the empty space without it being loud enough to drown out the littles’ voices. Max called, “What’re you doing?”

“Popcorn, shit bird!”

Little Billy and Steve gasped. “Popcorwn!”

Little Steve wiggled his pelvis as he sang, “Pop pop, pop pop pop!”

Big Steve approached the bed to scoop them up in his hands. “There’s plenty of time to harass Max. Let’s make sure Billy’s room is ready for you.”

Whooping voices trailed through the corridor as they arrived to Billy’s room. To Steve’s surprise, their reactions to being in this room again seemed a bit more critical:

“It’s messier than Stevie’s woom. Was it messy wast time?”

“It smwells good. And bad. Mostlwy good.”

Big Steve elaborated, “It’s the beer cans,” and set the littles on the nightstand while he collected the crumpled aluminum discards closest to the bed. He opened one of the windows for a refreshing breeze as little Billy flicked the lampshade on and off, on and off. “You can use that if you need us in the middle of the night.”

Little Billy made an acknowledging sound that Steve couldn’t read, and he didn’t get to ask since Max passed by the doorway and Billy called out. “Max! What’s that?”

She paused and looked down at the colorful pages. “It’s a comic book.”

“I wanna see.”

To her credit, she didn’t seem overly exasperated as she came in to pick him up. From the kitchen, they heard the first kernels explode, eliciting little Steve to celebrate, “Pop pop! Stevie, wet’s go!”

They journeyed back to the kitchen, the Steves in the kitchen while Max sat on the floor with small Billy on the coffee table. He sat under her chin and listened to her narrate, “Wonder Woman, issue 326.”

“What makes her wonderwfuwl?”

“She’s a super hero. She fights for justice and stuff.”

“What’s justice?”

“Keeping bad people from doing bad things, I guess.”

She opened the cover and turned passed the front page of pointless advertisements. She couldn’t help the little smile that warmed her features when Billy exhaled, “Woah...”

“It would probably help to know what happened in the last comic.”

“Therwe’s morwe than one?” he exclaimed up to her.

“Issue 326 usually implies that there’s more than one.”

“Ugh! Too many,” he lamented. “Just put me to bed alweady.”

“It’s amazing, I promise. Sleep if you want to.”

“No! Who’s that?” he ordered, pointing at a character on the page.

In the kitchen, Steve watched from afar, a soft smile on his face as he observed little Billy with Max, and little Steve chitchatting with big Billy on the counter.

“Hey, blueberry peach.”

It took a long second for that to register in Steve’s ears. Then he pointed a look at big Billy smirking at him. “What?”

Billy laughed and set a hand over the lid so it stayed on while kernels made the pot rattle. “What what? Nobody ever asked to see you from the back?”

Clearly not, because Billy watched that visibly process in Steve’s eyes before he looked down, suddenly bashful and smiling.

Little Steve asked in a confused lilt, “Are you putting fwuit on the popcorwn?”

“No, sugar. I just like making Stevie turn pink.”

He gave little Steve a poke to his belly, earning a very similar pink hue to his cheeks and bashful grin as the little man rubbed the spot on his torso. “Siwwy Biwwy.”

Billy soon took the pot off the heat and he and Steve divided the popcorn to make sweet and savory portions. At the coffee table, little Billy stood in front of the open pages in Max’s hands. “I don’t undewstand. Why’d the good guys do that?”

“Because they’re stupid. It was a stupid decision.”

“I don’ wike it.”

“I don’t either, but sometimes writers use stupid as a plot device.”

“Hmph,” Billy hummed in discontent agreement. He startled at the sounds of something hitting the coffee table, vibrating gently through his socked feet. “Huh! What’s that?”

“Popcorwn, Biwwy!” little Steve called as Max moved the comic out of the way for him to see the bowls. Big Steve crushed some popcorn over a dish so they could have manageable bites. Little Steve munched on one while he walked over Max’s comic, striking a pose like the fight scene on the pages.

Little Billy laughed and said, “Do this one,” as he tried to turn one of the pages. Big Billy caught the page and turned it for him. The littles posed with the characters while Max, Billy, and Steve watched a couple of evening shows on the television.

Eventually Max called it a night, and left her comic book on the table. Billy started to pick it up, but his smaller self rushed to stand on top of it, “I wanna know what happens.”

“And I want to lay down,” he countered, pulling small Billy along with the comic. He only paused to offer, “You hitching a ride?”

Little Steve rushed to jump onto the comic, and held onto small Billy when the comic turned into a slide down to big Billy’s diaphragm. The latter pivoted to lie back on the cushions and extended his feet to rest on big Steve’s lap while he warned little Steve, “If you don’t want a headache from reading, mountain climb over to Harrington’s side.”

The little guy giggled as he took up the challenge. “On my way, Stevie!”

Big Steve smiled, “Just hold onto his leg hair - ”

“Don’t do that,” Billy recoiled.

“Wead alweady!” small Billy shouted, similarly reclining between Billy’s chest and stomach.

Big Steve scolded with his hands resting on Billy’s ankles. “Please, B.”

“Pwease!” he obliged, but his tone didn’t sound any different.

Billy felt little Steve walking like his legs were a balance beam. He quickly read through the beginning of the comic, and small Billy certainly made it known when he’d arrived at new story.

Billy did not consider himself a storyteller kind of reader, but little Billy never complained. He crossed his tiny feet or sometimes lifted a leg just to stretch it out. He occasionally pointed to a panel to ask what a word meant, or just to comment on the story in general. Big Billy peeked down at him, thinking he looked more like he were observing the stars than reading a comic.

Little Billy’s voice grew more and more sluggish, words eventually leaving him in favor of mumbled or hummed responses. When Billy got no answer at all, he lifted the comic and whistled at Steve. His head rotated from the television, eyes dropping to the little guy passed out on Billy’s diaphragm.

He then looked down at the upside down sailor’s cap nestled between Billy’s feet and his abdomen. “It’s definitely time for bed.”

Cradling the cap, Steve moved Billy’s feet so he could get off the couch. Billy got a peak at a little, sleeping Steve while small Billy got carefully moved to the nest of the Scoops Ahoy hat.

“Hhmuh?” the little one roused.

“I got you, B,” Steve hushed. “Goodnight.”

“Mmm...” he whined tiredly, but rolled over to spoon little Steve.

As for the bigger Steve, he held the hat out to Billy in offering. “Do you want to watch over their dreams tonight?”

Billy faced him with flattened, puzzled eyes. “You mean kiss them?”

“Yeah, I mean kiss them.”

“I’d rather kiss you.”

Billy grasped the red tails of his ascot and yanked Steve down to him. The sailor cap collapsed on Billy’s abdomen as soft lips crushed against his own. His other hand plunged into the hair on Steve’s nape, causing a delicious, involuntary sound to come from Steve’s chest.

It was good, being reminded of Steve’s mouth. To have the confirmation that he had kissed Steve Harrington, and could kiss him again, as much as he wanted. Billy tasted sweet popcorn on Steve’s lips but Billy’s lips started to prickle from the spice on their savory popcorn. He didn’t mind -

“I gwuess they got big bad dweams to take care of.”

They both froze and looked down at the sleep-disheveled pair staring at them with puffy, tired eyes. Little Billy seemed to be doing complicated math and looked at little Steve. “Can I kiss you wike that?”

“Maybe tomowwow. I’m sweepy.”

“Mmkay,” Billy agreed, the both of them collapsing back in their nest. Little Billy reached for the tiny Scoops hat, pulling it from brown tresses and using it to cover his face from the light.

[lazylittledragon]

domesticating your vampire: a memoir

(beautiful high res version on patre0n)

[sga-owns-my-soul]

reblog to give ur mutuals a soft lil kissy on the head

[nipuni]

My favourite alien 🥰

A speedpaint video of this will be available at my Patreon on oct 1st! and you can find prints of all my work at my store

[wiisagi-maiingan]

I love tornado survival guides. "Shelter in a basement or interior room without any windows. But if you're in a mobile home, just fucking die I guess lol"

[shaniacsboogara]

liking dnd is so funny because yeah you play the actual game sometimes but mostly you just think about the game and watch other people play the game and slowly go insane thinking about how much you wish you could play the game and hoping that buying more shiny rocks will fix everything

[i-am-a-fish]

this year I will become a powerful lesbian

[t00thpasteface]

not done messing with their shapes yet actually

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

anyone else have multiple traumatic memories associated specifically with holidays/family vacations? because that is a topic I never see discussed in all the So You Had A Shitty Childhood, Now What? self-help books i've been reading. but for me, it was a significant thing. and the more i think about it the more it seems like this would be an (unfortunately) common experience. would be grateful to hear if this matches other peoples' experiences...

[nouverx]

WIP of something I'm working on lately 👀 my favourite stressed Alastor expressions eheh I love bullying the deer man

[frogchiro]

Brought to you by the biggest snow storm I've seen in YEARS😭

Imagine that it's snowing so heavily that you barely see anything outside the window, a perfect snow storm but the insulation in the shitty apartment building is doing nothing to keep you warm, not to mention the one heater you had was barely holding on.

It was...awful. Hopeless even. You felt like you'd freeze to death in this shit hole and nobody would notice, maybe except...Your pushy and weird but strangely charming neighbour, Simon. He sure unnerved you with that blank, empty gaze that flashed with something whenever he looked at you or with his weirdly touchy behavior where whenever he had the chance to grab you by the hips to 'move you' but given the chance that his apartment woukd be even slightly warmer, you'd take your chances.

Imagine going slowly to knock on Simon's door, your warmest blanket wrapped around your shivering form and imagine the look in Si's eyes when he heard your shy, quiet request as if you were scared and ashamed asking if you could please stay for the night with him because the heating is broken in your apartment.

'Bloody fuckin' hell, she wants to kill me' he thought and almost too eagerly let you inside his apartment. It was...something, sure, with its almost spartan furnishing and the low light combined with the chipped plaster and slightly torn wallpaper made the place look unsettling, but at least it was warmer than your own and you felt like you wouldn't freeze to death :(

Imagine Simon dismissing your thank yous and almost growling lowly at your quiet assurances that you'll be out of his hair by morning and that you promise you'll keep everything tidy and not leave any mess behind. Imagine his borderline disgusted look when you asked him if you could sleep on his couch; what do you mean his couch? Oh you silly girl, you're not sleeping on that old, tattered thing! You're sleeping with him in his bed!

Your look of confusion and embarrasment send a pleasurable pulse into his tummy and made his cock stir in his sweats as he rumbled out that he'd never let his dear, sweet neighbour sleep there, plus it is cold enough to freeze his balls off and he wouldn't mind that extra heat♡

Imagine whining quietly with delight when you sunk under the covers in Simon's bed, even if it looked cold and hard, his bed felt like the warmest and softest nest in the world, not to mention the huge human furnace pressed close to you. You could feel the large male pressing close to you, his hard chest and tummy pressed against your back, his strong arms around your middle and when you were almost asleep, you didn't even register thet you nuzzled your nose and cheek against his stubble.

But he sure did♡

[dollya-robinprotector]

That one event when PC sleeps in History class and wakes up with cum on their hand. It's not the only one, but, like......

No just let me delulu okay just LET ME THINK IT'S THE HIGH CONFIDENCE ROBIN and this is the premise we need for Somnophilia Ronin okay "no one seems to notice" BUT IF YOU LOOK TO YOUR SIDE HONAY MAYBE YOU LL SEE SOMEONE IS BLUSHING JUST LET ME DREAM PLEASE SOMNO ROBIN IS REAL AND I'M SO READY FOR IT.

[necrotic-nephilim]

as much as I love the common "Tim worships/stalks Jason" trope in TimJay fanfiction because it's Good and making Tim a weird little freak is Fun, I think the underutilized dynamic is where Jason is the one weirdly obsessed with Tim and makes it Tim's problem.

Like, the moment Jason is confronted with the information that a third Robin exists, the first thing he does is cover his wall with pictures of Tim so he can just obsess and torture himself over it. That is the behavior of a man who is Unwell over Tim's existence and I love it.

red hood: lost days #4

And as much as a shitshow as The Titans Tower Incident™ is characterization-wise (though I think it has far more merit in depicting Jason's character than people give it credit for but I digress-) there's something very fun about the fact that even after kicking his ass, Jason respects Tim and is impressed by him.

teen titans (2003) #29

And on top of that, Jason can't seem to stop trying to ask Jason to Tim to work with him in some capacity.

robin (1993) #177

batman: battle for the cowl #2

While Battle for the Cowl is an exceptionally bad comic, especially for its characterization of Jason and the "be my Robin" bit is taken deeply out of context, I do think it's interesting how obsessed Jason is with believing that Tim is extremely competent, only held back by being "brainwashed by Bruce". (hence him leaving Tim for dead later on in the comic.) Jason seeing a darker side of Tim and wanting to bring that out of Tim, wanting to see what Tim could be if he let go of his loyalty to Bruce is so fun to me, tbh.

And in Robin #177, Jason seems genuinely upset Tim doesn't want to work with him. Jason sees such a raw potential in Tim and is obsessed with it, constantly wanting Tim to work for him and see Tim be the type of person Jason is. And despite Tim rejecting him, Jason doesn't shoot to kill Tim. I just cannot get over the fanfic potential of Jason obsessing over Tim, tracking him and seeing what he's capable of and what he could be capable of. Wanting to make Tim see things the way he does. To Tim it's corruption, to Jason it's freedom. Tim trying to 'save' Jason is fun and all, but Jason trying to corrupt Tim? That's even more fun to me. Watching that power struggle between them, Tim unable to get Jason off his heels as Jason gets more and more possessive and bold with each attempt.

And when Jason sees Tim successfully get Gotham back under control after a gang war, he's impressed. He praises Tim, even. And then Tim just. Breaks him out of prison.

robin (1993) #182

The way they're constantly trying to see something in the other that isn't there, hoping the other will come around? That is the most fucked up hate/love dynamic ever. Jason keeps coming back to Tim, keeps trying to find ways to get Tim onto his side. They're always chasing each other. And I think Jason would be the one to confess love first, the one to do anything to make Tim his. And when you consider after all of this, Tim has his Red Robin arc and is at his lowest, getting the closest he ever gets to considering murder? I think it'd be so fun to see Jason take advantage of that and worm his way back into Tim's life and finally push Tim over the edge.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good Morning, World.

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[nipuni]

Casanova sketches!

[yuwuta]

olympics coming up…… athlete aus on the mind….. satoru as a swimmer….. unreasonably large wingspan…. huge hands..... thinks “official” competitions and tournaments are boring because he can’t use the goofy purple googly eyes goggles he likes to practice in…… practices at ungodly hours solely because he likes when the pool is empty because that means you’ll dip your feet in at the edge and be there to greet him with a kiss when he’s finished his laps….. they bring up the stats board and it’s just his name ten times before the next fastest person and he could still lap them, and even tho he’ll always put so much pressure on himself to be the best, it’s worth it to have you hold his face and tell him you’re proud of him... he’s gotten so much merch from events and sponsorships and he used to think they just created clutter but that all changes when you start to wear his clothes (esp the ones with his name on it… he’s not proud to admit that does Something to him)…. always looks up to the stands when he finishes a race and if he knows you’re not there, he looks right at the camera, draws an infinity sign with his fingers, and blows a kiss (which, some commentators routinely call “unsportsmanlike conduct” but he doesn’t care, and always, publicly says he’ll pay the fees if it means blowing a kiss to his girl at home)