wanted to get a good grasp of clip studio paint, so here's a young butch lesbian fem!hank as she would have been in the mid 2000's. if you're wondering if she's wearing oversized jorts, the answer is absolutely yes
i like to imagine maybe fowler gave her this shirt and took this pic on a shitty digital camera in their early academy days together 🥰
shirt from here https://www.tumblr.com/egberts/759273030847496192
hair inspo from this pic https://www.gettyimages.in/detail/news-photo/actress-drew-barrymore-attends-the-50th-annual-golden-globe-news-photo/107390466
above are the references for Connie and Hannah's clothes mentioned in the fic <3
It's Cole's seventh birthday and proud mothers Hannah and Connie are determined to make it memorable despite it being a work day.
Hank flipped up her welding hood as she took in her work. It wasn't her worst—she might have been rushing a little to avoid the proposition of overtime. They were celebrating Cole's birthday this afternoon and she'd made a pinky promise to be there. As she removed her gloves and headed for her locker she pulled her grey hair out of a short pony and rubbed her scalp where the helmet band had been pressing into all shift. Her phone buzzed and she already knew it was Connie reminding her to leave work.
On my way.
Connie felt a wave of relief at the prompt response—immediately interrupted by the ringing of the oven timer. She jumped slightly and snapped back into focus, reaching for the nearest tea towel to retrieve the cake. She sighed in defeat looking at the burnt confection and fishing out a knife from the drawer to try and shave off what she could.
Hannah was just starting her car when she got the phone call.
Hannah's lips curled with a toothy grin as she answered it.
"Hey, can you swing by the grocery store on your way home?"
"Just a cake I'm assuming?" Hannah tried reply without laughing.
"Or cupcakes…honestly anything at this point." Connie groaned, "I swear I set the timer ten minutes before it was supposed to be done."
"How long did the box say?" She teased. For as much as Connie tried to bake she never really got the hang of things, mostly due to her ADHD distracting her during the process at some point. Hannah loved that she never really gave up trying despite this.
There was a moment of silence on the line as Connie re-read the box instructions and realized she'd read it too fast to register the numbers properly.
"Not important." Connie declared loudly, earning a snort from Hannah.
"Of course not babe." Hannah smiled. "I'll be home in twenty."
Hannah was rushed as soon as she opened the door, her son clinging to her legs as if she might float away.
"Hey Cole," Connie took the items from her hands, affording her the opportunity to ruffle Cole's hair affectionately. This earned her a happy shriek from the kid. He was dressed in his favourite orange shirt and blue overalls.
Connie set the violets on the table beside the package of cupcakes, she was half dressed in work casual with a white button up and a pair of Hannah's PJ shorts that revealed the moles dotting her legs. Hannah raked her eyes over her wife for a moment longer watching her lean into the fridge to set down the six pack.
What a cute ass.
Connie ran her fingers through her hair to get it out of her face, realizing she didn't have a scrunchie on her wrist as usual.
Hannah wordlessly pulled a hair tie off her wrist and gave it to her wife who blinked her brown doe eyes at her appreciatively.
Cole made a noise and Hannah turned to focus on her energetic kid, hoisting him up to rest on her hip. He was non verbal but that didn't mean he was quiet, not in the slightest.
Connie beamed at them, eyeing the way Hannah's arms flexed as she picked up their seven year old—god she was strong.
"Shit—forgot the food in the car." Hannah plopped the child down and pointed towards his shoes, "Can you give me a hand little man?"
Cole had crawled away so fast that the mothers' couldn't help but laugh, Cole climbed onto the couch to burry himself in pillows—clearly not wanting to put on his shoes to go outside.
"Here take this when you go—" Connie slung a trash bag at Hannah's feet, the smell of burnt cake emanating from the black plastic.
Hannah just shot her a toothy grin and slipped outside to dispose of it, returning with the bag of burgers she'd left in the car.
Connie began to unpack the food, taking a seat at the table and sighing—she'd been wrangling their son for hours in-between plugging away at her remote job and her back was starting to ache. Cole perked up immediately as he heard the rattling of his chicken fingers and he grabbed a spot at the table, pressing his face onto it making a humming noise.
Hannah quickly disappeared into their room to change out of her sweaty work clothes. She put on a fresh black tee and shrugged on a loudly patterned button up—her signature style consisted of what Connie called 'old-man shirts.' She stepped into some navy blue cargo shorts and returned to the living room to see Connie attempting to wipe Cole's face with a napkin. How their kid had managed to get honey mustard sauce all over his face within minutes of eating was a mystery, even more than Cole's hyper-fixation on all things mustard.
Hannah dug into her burger with a hearty bite and took over the impossible task of keeping Cole from staining another one of his shirts. Connie flashed her a grateful smile and began to eat her own food.
Taking a sip of her pineapple soda she cleared her throat, "How was your day?"
"Internet went out in the middle of a meeting." Connie smiled softly, "Might need help finding that Ethernet cable in the closet."
Hannah licked the ketchup that dripped out of her burger onto her fingers. Humming a response she grabbed a napkin off the table to tuck into Cole's shirt—he was getting more of the mustard on the chicken fingers at least.
"The flowers are lovely." Connie reached out with her foot under the table to rest on top of Hannah's, "Nice attempt to distract me from the beer."
Hannah swallowed a bite, "For the Gears game this Friday." She had cut back on drinking a lot since having Cole—of course it came with the territory of carrying a child. They'd spent most of their savings for IVF, Connie was unable to carry due to health complications and so Hannah had rose to the challenge—she surprised herself with how much she enjoyed the pregnancy. Of course Connie dotting on her and giving those legendary foot massages definitely played a role.
Connie just smiled back at Hannah, "You've earned it I suppose."
The family had finished their dinner and Connie had thrown on her favourite blue cardigan with various fish scattered across it. It was brisk outside with the fall breeze, and the sun was already setting when they buckled Cole in the backseat and headed for the animal shelter.
They'd spent a few days of the week looking at adopting a dog, Cole had zeroed in on an elderly St. Bernard. He had a calm temperament and didn't seem phased by Cole's occasional banshee cries so they were confident they could give the dog a nice home. Since it was finally his big day they let him name the dog while they filled out the paperwork.
Their son had signed the word for wrestling and Connie tilted her head curiously.
"You wanna name him wrestle?" Connie asked, trying not to dissuade him from choosing even the most unconventional of names.
Cole shook his head and signed the letters: S-U-M-O.
As soon as they'd brought Sumo home he found a comfortable spot on the couch and laid there, gratefully accepting the belly rubs afforded to him by the family. Not long after Cole had begun to doze off so Hannah had brought him to bed, followed by Sumo who snuggled up beside him. Hannah gave them both a kiss goodnight before grabbing a shower and falling into bed beside Connie.
"Did we forget to open the cupcakes?" Hannah mused, trailing circles lazily on Connie's back.
Connie cursed, burying her face into the crook of Hannah's neck, "I knew I was forgetting something."
Hannah chuckled, "I don't think he noticed."
"We're bad parents." Connie moaned melodramatically, rolling onto her back and throwing an arm over her face.
Hannah propped herself up on an elbow and gently grabbed Connie's hand planting a kiss on her knuckles reassuringly.
Connie's eyes snapped open and she gasped, "Where's your whiskers?" Connie on multiple occasions had expressed how much she loved the grey thick hairs that lined the edges of Hannah's jawline.
Hannah huffed, "I shaved em'."
Connie narrowed her eyes, grabbing Hannah's face with her hands and pressing their foreheads together, "How dare—" Her joke was cut short as Hannah silenced her with a kiss.
My hands are not growing from the right place and I constantly make a mistake in the lieutenant's name
Instead of "Hank" I write "Hanka" (a female version of the name)
