#Messier 27

[quiltofstars]

The Dumbbell Nebula, M27 // Michael

[the-maddest-robot]

Picture of M27, the Dumbbell nebula (aka the Apple Core Nebula), I took at the end of last month. This is a planetary nebula, it's the result of a star similar to our sun, that had turned into a red giant at the end of its life, ejecting its outer layer of gas and plasma into space. A planetary nebula is probably a relatively ''short'' phenomena, lasting around 10 000 years. Once the central star has ejected most of its hydrogen/helium and that the nuclear fusion in it has stopped, the nebula will start to cool down and disappear while the star turns into a white dwarf. Planetary nebula have an important role in redistributing some of the matter from dead/dying stars in the interstellar medium.

I personally think that photo is good, but some of the more faint external structures are barely visible, might take another picture of it and/or more photos to stack later in the month.

[losst-stars]

[cosmicfocus]

Dumbbell Nebula

M27 in Vulpecula NGC 6853 Also known as the Apple Core Nebula In about five billion years, our Sun will run out of hydrogen fuel and begin burning helium. Swelling up to become a red giant, its surface will reach out as far as the Earth’s orbit. A further billion years will elapse before it runs out of helium and eject its outer layers of gas. These layers will expand outwards, forming what…

[brightestofcentaurus]

The Dumbbell Nebula

"The Dumbbell nebula, also known as Messier 27, pumps out infrared light in this image from NASA Spitzer Space Telescope. Planetary nebulae are now known to be the remains of stars that once looked a lot like our sun."

Image and information from NASA

[llycaons]

we already know tgcf is a fantastic and unrealistic romance but I love this scene bc it's so blatant about it hc is like 'hmmm nope! if you idealize the RIGHT person you're fine! living entirely for someone else is totally great!' and then he's vindicated by the narrative so yes DO idealize your romantic partner they CAN do no wrong you SHOULD literally worship them you WILL have a perfect happy ending l m a o

[rabbitcruiser]

Mark Messier’s #11 jersey was retired by the Edmonton Oilers on February 27, 2007.  

[the-wolf-and-moon]

Within Messier 27

[innerthighfest]

Final Stretch

The quiet hum of the fridge was all that filled the air. The blinds weren't drawn fully, letting soft sunlight filter in through the cracks, casting a warm glow over the room. It was peaceful, almost too peaceful. At 27, He never expected to find himself at this stage of his life; Yet here he was, living alone and 9 months pregnant—a round, swollen reminder of the life he was about to welcome into the world.

He sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, just staring at the floor, feeling the weight of his stomach pushing him forward. He rubbed his belly. The baby, as if responding to his touch, kicked—soft but insistent. The movement startled him, making his heart race so early in the morning. The baby had been kicking more frequently lately, more forcefully now. It was running out of room.

He exhaled, trying to push the discomfort aside. The ache in his lower back and the pressure in his pelvis were constant. But today, for some reason, it felt worse. Everything felt more difficult. The simple act of getting out of bed now took more effort than it used to.

With a grunt, he slowly pushed himself to his feet. His legs trembled, and he had to grab the edge of the bed to steady himself. Every step felt like an uphill battle. His body, stretched to its limits and protested with each movement. He proceeded forward, the weight of his belly causing him to lean slightly backward to counteract the weight, his back aching with each awkward step.

The bathroom seemed miles away. He shuffled toward it, holding his stomach as if it might collapse under its own weight. His belly, impossibly round, swayed with every movement, and his hips were sore. It had become a task in itself to walk from one room to the next with no support.

He made it to the bathroom. His reflection stared back at him: His shirt clung to his skin, tight over the curve of his abdomen. It was strange to look at himself like this—so different from who he had been just months ago. His face was a bit flushed, and his hair a little messier than usual.

His breath caught as he felt another sharp kick. He winced, his hand automatically pressing against his belly. The baby moved again, more persistently this time, as if reminding him it was there. He let out a small chuckle to himself, the sensation comforting, but also a little overwhelming. "Hsss, easy now,” he muttered, rubbing his belly in soothing circles.

His bathroom routine had become increasingly difficult. Even brushing his teeth now required him to lean against the counter for balance. His swollen belly rested atop the sink's ledge, providing relief for his back.

When he was done, he turned slowly, his feet sore from the minimal walking he’d done so far. He made his way to the kitchen, each step slow and deliberate. It was hard to ignore the weight pressing down on him, making everything seem like such a monumental task. Reaching up to grab a cereal bowl felt like a stretch—his whole midsection pushed forward, the skin taut as he reached higher.

As he poured cereal into the bowl, the baby kicked again, stronger this time, and He stumbled back, one hand instinctively going to his belly. He breathed through it, trying to focus on the sensation instead of the discomfort it caused, but it was hard to concentrate. He had so much on his mind, and the baby’s movements only seemed to distract him more. He rested his hands on the countertop, trying to compose himself.

Every time the baby moved it sent a wave of emotion through him. Excitement, fear, hope, all mixed together. He couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel when the baby was finally in his arms, when he wasn’t carrying this incredible weight all in his heavily pregnant belly. But for now, it was a constant, like a ticking clock—reminding him with every shift and nudge that it wouldn’t be long before the baby arrived.

After breakfast, He slowly made his way to his desk. The chair loomed in front of him, and the thought of sitting down was relieving. His belly felt in the way, the roundness of it pressing against the edge of the desk as he tried to adjust himself. He had to tilt slightly to the side to avoid having his stomach pressed up against the hard surface.

He pulled his chair forward, his belly wedged firmly between his legs and the desk. His legs felt stiff, and he had to readjust several times before he was comfortable. It was nearly impossible to maintain good posture. The curve of his belly made it hard to find a comfortable position. His back ached, and the pressure on his abdomen didn’t help. Every time he shifted, it felt like the baby was going to kick him out of his chair.

He groaned softly as he tried to focus on the documents in front of him, but it was difficult. Every few minutes, the baby moved again, making it hard to concentrate. He placed both hands on his belly, rubbing it absentmindedly, hoping the baby would settle down. But each time, there was a strong nudge and a tightening of his skin. He sighed and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes for a moment.

It wasn’t just the baby’s movements that distracted him—it was the overwhelming physical toll of being this pregnant. The discomfort, the constant awareness of his own body, the soreness in his joints—it was exhausting. His big baby belly felt hot to the touch.

He continued to rub his belly, feeling the baby shift inside. It was a reminder that no matter how hard today was, it would soon be over. The thought brought some comfort, even if the physical strain felt impossible to push past.

For now, though, He had to keep going. One step at a time, he had to keep going to support his baby. Even if he felt like he couldn’t do it anymore. He would. Because the baby was coming and his life would change forever.

But for today it was enough to sit back and let his hands rest on his belly, awaiting the next kick.

[apod]

2024 October 5

M27: Not a Comet Image Credit & Copyright: Francesco Sferlazza, Franco Sgueglia

Explanation: While hunting for comets in the skies above 18th century France, astronomer Charles Messier diligently kept a list of the things encountered during his telescopic expeditions that were definitely not comets. This is number 27 on his now famous not-a-comet list. In fact, 21st century astronomers would identify it as a planetary nebula, but it's not a planet either, even though it may appear round and planet-like in a small telescope. Messier 27 (M27) is an excellent example of a gaseous emission nebula created as a sun-like star runs out of nuclear fuel in its core. The nebula forms as the star's outer layers are expelled into space, with a visible glow generated by atoms excited by the dying star's intense but invisible ultraviolet light. Known by the popular name of the Dumbbell Nebula, the beautifully symmetric interstellar gas cloud is over 2.5 light-years across and about 1,200 light-years away in the constellation Vulpecula. This impressive color image highlights details within the well-studied central region and fainter, seldom imaged features in the nebula's outer halo.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap241005.html

[ub4q]

Revolutions are messy. Relationships are messier.

Arik's been told two things, all his life: the country's being ruled by a tyrant, and somebody should do something.

When an unexplained attack sends him fleeing home in the middle of the night, his parents captured and his house torched to the ground—it's time to gather a party, hit the road, and take the Lord down.

Amarantus is a "messy relationship visual novel" where romance won't always go well and revolution takes priority

Play as a defined and illustrated player character with his own personality, affected by and responsive to your choices

Develop a variety of relationships across four different party members (three women, one man), including romantic, platonic, sexual, antagonistic, and polyamorous

No bad endings: every choice affects your story without ending it

Releasing June 27 2023.

Play the demo NOW on Steam or Itch & follow for updates.

[quiltofstars]

The Dumbbell Nebula, M27 // Christopher Stobie

[downsteepy]

i can't stand it anymore i have to let myself speak abt how much the physical difference between 2r leon and 4r leon (and other leons) hurts me . i have to

this is extremely incoherent rambling but i hope it makes some sense, i'll also probably talk a bit abt his character in general

leon's eyes in 2r are so bright and full of life despite everything. he's still optimistic. he looks healthy, he doesn't look tired, his hair's rather neat and tidy.

and then six years pass after raccoon city, and leon's just exhausted. he looks exhausted. he has bags under his eyes, his eyes seem noticeably duller. they're especially dull in og re4, they look more greyish blue than his usual blue.. but leon's put on all this muscle in 4r especially because he had to essentially, his hair's messier. he's still not quite a mess but he's like. almost slowly getting there.

but seeing pictures of 2r and 4r leon next to each other kills me so much just bc of the fact that 4r leon is just.. so tired looking. he's been through so much shit in 6 years, and then he has to deal with all the shit that happens during 4r.

i do want to cherry pick when he gets injected with the plagas and also when he gets stung by the mosquito thing in death island because oh my god!!! it hurts me so bad!!!!

in death island, as soon as leon feels that sting, he almost immediately panics.

i mentioned it in the tags of my recent leon art but di leon is genuinely more playful seeming, his eyes are brighter, he's put on muscle again. he's healthy.

but as soon as that sting happens, its like hes 27 again. the sting happens on the same side of his neck as the plagas injection, and he's 27 again. he's that exhausted, not quite as bright eyed and bushy tailed 27 year old again.

i kind of got sidetracked considering this is supposed to be about the evolution of his physical appearance but when i think abt 4r leon i can't help but make the death island connection so consider it a bonus.

i'll get back on track but still on the topic of death island but now i'll compare di leon and vendetta leon and probably just talk abt vendetta leon for a bit.

vendetta leon is probably honestly the most exhausted leon's ever looked. while he's still a little silly, it doesn't feel quite as playful, if that makes sense? i feel like genuinely everyone can agree though when i say this is probably like. the peak of leon's depression. he's day drinking on his vacation, so his primary coping method seems to be alcohol. his eyes and the area surrounding his eyes looks darker, he's gotten leaner, he's a bit snippier, and he doesn't want to do this anymore. he's tired. he doesn't want to have to keep doing this anymore.

there is such a stark contrast between leon's appearance + attitude between vendetta and death island and while it makes me happy because he evidently has found some way to heal or a better way to cope, it also just makes me so viscerally sad. vendetta leon makes me so sad just bc of how he appears + how he acts at the end. the difference between him and di leon is night and day.

very quick warning for mentions of suicidal ideation in the next part, i'll try to keep it brief.

re6 leon is also just. extremely deeply sad to me. he also looks incredibly tired, and while he makes a lot of quips, he's not as playful as he usually is. there is a file from re6 where leon speaks about how he's thought numerous times about ending it, but only stayed because of claire and sherry. it's genuinely heart breaking, and not to kind of derail again, but it's kind of sad to me that he only found his anchor in staying alive bc of claire and sherry, and not necessarily for himself. leon very much focuses on others before he focuses on himself, and god that shit hurts!

i've kind of equated 6leon to being a sad wet cat bc of how wet his eyes look and honestly he just. is a sad wet cat. he's just sad. he's dealt with so much trauma that just keeps stacking up, he's gotten so visibly tired, and he just doesn't get to rest. i know it's somewhat of a joke that he wants a vacation or whatever, but like.

he really just deserves that vacation. he deserves time to relax. he deserves to be able to just not worry about things and other people as much for once. he deserves a nice breakfast, and he deserves to get better.

di leon does seem to have gotten better; much brighter and livelier. and that makes me happy. i wish he'd been able to be like this earlier, but i'm happy he's finally gotten there.

i'm happy that he's happy.

[senditcolton]

So Tragic and Rare

Feburary - March (pt. 2)

previous part 🧡 next part masterlist

keelyhalloran posted on instagram

liked by sabrinacarpenter, sophiet, gabilove, and 22.3k others

keelyhalloran There are two sides to every story. This is mine. Without Me - single out 2/14.

view all 19030 comments

keeledover NEW MUSIC! Can't wait to hear it!

nickilass ON VALENTINES DAY!?!?!? I feel like she is about to say some things.

buttondutton that title? i can't get a vibe from it. sad? angry? happy?

alexisc I guess we'll find out soon!

evenkeeled Tweet Feb 14 this is the best shit ever!!!!

jensol_ Tweet Feb 14 not to be mean but... why? after that mutual Instagram about the break up - reply by ashleewalsh she deleted it!

gorgegabbi Tweet Feb 14 on repeat!!

tina_marsili Tweet Feb 16 seems a little stuck-up. saying that you made your ex famous? who in the relationship has awards? -reply by cassiemarshall yeah, golden globe winner Declan Conner and... her -reply to cassiemarshall from ab_leathers he just happened to be in the golden globe winning movie "Knockout" let's not pretend that's the same as an individual award - reply to ab_leathers from emmmmm plus Keely has been nominated plenty of times! it's crazy she hasn't won any critics awards! - reply from possepaige literally! like, girl, way to throw your ex under the bus

Daily Mail Article

FROM MUTE TO MESSY!! KEELY HALLORAN'S NEW SONG ATTACKS EX When the news broke of this dream relationships end, we were all shocked. Now, after listening to the brand-new track, "Without Me" by Keely Halloran, we are... confused. In her new song, which Halloran presented as her side of the story when she announced the release on Instagram, she takes shots at her ex-boyfriend, movie star Declan Connor, seemingly blaming him for the breakup and saying that she was responsible for his fame. But with talks of demons and thinly veiled accusations of cheating, people are left to wonder how much of it is true. If we look at Connor's Twitter account, we can see that he doesn't agree with "Keely's side of the story." Shortly after the single broke and quickly trended on social media, Connor went to his account to tell his side of the story, one where he was shocked that she would go out of her way to attack him after everything between them seemed to end amicably. It gets even messier when you realize that their previous mutual breakup statement has now been deleted from both of their accounts. While this story just got much juicier, us here at Daily Mail aren't taking sides at the moment. The only thing we have to say is... yikes.

decconone Tweet Feb. 19 y'all are just cowards to admit that Declan was right. he hasn't said anything bad about her and yet she releases this diss track. bitch move imho.

halloranhollerin Tweet Feb 20 Can someone tell me why it seems like every gossip mag is 100% against Keely but acts like they're not taking sides? Like, hello??? - reply by juleshamn seriously! just say it with your chest, Keely did #streamwithoutme

nclhmltn25 Tweet Feb 25 from pop princess to a snake #keelyskilledparty - reply by holden_38 🐍🐍🐍 let's trend this! #keelykilledparty

garretalvin Tweet Feb 27 Declan Connor they could never make me hate you #keelyskilledparty

keelyhalloran posted on instagram

liked by elladrowsy and others

keelyhalloran daisy day drinking & dreaming

view 26347 comments

decconone 🐍🐍🐍

tina_marsili 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

killbillie74 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

jensol_ 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

halloran1fan Tweet March 6 KEELY'S DELETED ALL HER INSTAGRAM POSTS!!! - reply from kellykiss her twitter and tiktok are empty too!

a/n: drama, drama, drama. what will Keely do next? guess you'll have to wait to find out!!

taglist: @fallinallincurls @laureniray @comphy-and-cozy @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @thewintersoldierdisaster

let me know if you want to be tagged in this story or if you want to add yourself to my general taglist, click here!!

[certified-bi]

Sam Brewer. Night Doorman/Guard

Perpetually not in the mood.

Her hair is way messier than shown(all love to Baydews and their picrew btw).

In my head the reason the doppelgangers go after the doorman instead of just killing everyone in the apartment first is because that office is basically a honeypot designed to catch them. As soon as blood is spilled in the office a sensor goes off and she's alerted and the office shuts off outside access. She then goes to every apartment to make sure all the residents are human after the D.D.D. arrive to take the doppelganger in.

I know in arcade mode the doppelgangers can answer the phone but this honestly doesn't make much sense to me. The main reason is how do they get a key? Most of the time the real version is also coming in or in their apartment. And given doppelgangers are well known I'd assume most residents would have some code to verify who their roommates are.

I also think bouncing off of this that the stair door is probably locked on all floors and the apartment keys only open the door on the floor the apartment that key goes to is on. The elevator would likely just have a door in front of it when you exit.

She is the only one in the building that has a weapon that can neutralize a doppelganger(Unless Afton is the same Afton as on that secret document but then again that wouldn't be official now would it). In this take you can't kill them with normal weapons and they usually don't stay down long.

She's gone through 27 day time guards in the past month and is over it.

Part of her shift is checking the exits for any signs of break in, taking exit forms from residents(which is how the day's list is made. Technically the forms can be turned in to the day guard after shift change but most are so new they dont know where to pick them up from), and other random duties that the day guards usually die before completing.

Took this job because it guaranteed she could move her sister out of the rural country and into a very secure boarding school. Her mother lives in apartment in a much safer area nearby to the school.

Saw a doppelganger kill her father and incapacitated said doppelganger while her mom watched frozen. This was not the last doppelganger she's taken out and they're the reason for her scars.

That's actually how she was seen and recruited by the D.D.D. Took the job as soon as she was 18.

Is aware and suspicious of Angus and Afton specifically. Once heard Afton speaking about his project and realized it didn't exactly sound like something a normal physicist would be doing. With Angus it's just because he's inherently suspicious. Really your job is business? No specification there? She of course keeps this all to herself. No reason to cause trouble when you can keep your head down.

Art by the lovely @dqrshrtck

[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.