you know, better than most, the dangers of overindulgence. you keep yourself minimal, simple, clean. to give yourself too much is to give yourself over to something that you’re frightened of. what is that, exactly? what has you so scared to enjoy the pleasures that you crave? what do you think you will become if you finally have what you want?
temperance
you know how to keep yourself within reason. you’re good at it; no flights of fancy, no moments of wonder. you don’t bare your soul for anything. you’re sure that keeping yourself closed off from the possibility of harm will save you, but there’s an old adage somewhere about the difference between living and being alive…
charity
oh, you give, and you give, don’t you? always generous. always sharing of yourself. self-sacrifice is a beautiful, shining knife in your hand, so sharp that people don’t even see it when you cut into yourself for them. do you think people want that from you? want you to hurt for their sakes? do you tell them where the sweet, dark wine comes from? would they want it, if they knew?
(I apparently don't have Otis's drawing on hand, so using @just-a-lone-soul drawing for ref<333)
humility
some hold themselves up in pride and self-aggrandizement, but not you; no, you are aware, more than anyone else, of your own nature, your own failings. you don’t make yourself out to be more than you are. in fact, you often work to make yourself out as less. has it helped you? has it done what you wanted, cutting yourself up, making yourself small? or have you just kept yourself from the fullness of what you could be?
Pretty cool they all got seperate ones. They are all.. very fitting and close to home
Tagging, no force!: @magpies-and-mysteries @just-a-lone-soul @the-great-nome-authority
There had been many times in the last few months when Alan had considered murdering his former roommate, and this was definitely one of them.
After Dave had managed to get himself knocked up in perhaps the stupidest way possible by performing a spell to birth a series of ancient heroes anew on a dare, Alan had felt a sort of responsibility toward him. Alan and his girlfriend had both gone through magical pregnancies of their own, and Dave… wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to take great care throughout the process.
As it turned out, though, trying to teach Dave about pregnancy was sort of like trying to give cooking lessons to a microwave. Apparently Dave’s baby was under some protective enchantment, so it wasn’t in any danger from Dave’s rampant bad life decisions, and he wouldn’t even be keeping the kids—there was an entire ancient order that had prophesied their return and would raise them for their divine purpose. All of which Dave took as great reasons to disregard all pregnancy advice and drive Alan completely crazy in the process.
Unfortunately for Alan, he did still care about his friend, which is how Dave had ended up here, camping out at Alan’s apartment while he waited for the baby to come.
Dave had spent most of the last nine months shockingly active, in total disregard of the baby growing inside him, but Alan had outright refused to let him spend the last couple weeks before delivery in his wild party house. Alan liked to think he wouldn’t mind babysitting his pregnant friend so much if Alan hadn’t also had an eight-month-old of his own and two more on the way, rounding out his own belly at seven months enough to already outmatch Dave’s full-term bump, and if Dave’s little impregnation stint hadn’t landed his due date smack dab in the middle of finals week.
Alan was good at multitasking, but right now, this was pushing his limits. He was trying to finish a twenty page paper, keep his baby entertained, all while Dave was apparently on a personal mission to drive him to distraction.
Dave was on the couch, propped up on pillows, using his protruding belly as a table for his laptop, complaining nonstop about the math final he was supposed to be studying for. Alan tried his utmost to just ignore him, but once he heard Dave mutter “fuckin Greg, more like gre… gre.. more like… peg, cuz he’s such a stiff fuckin loser,” he put his head in his hands.
“Dave. I am trying. To focus.”
“Oh right, sorry bro,” Dave said, very sincerely, and then continued to mutter to himself loudly.
Alan turned around in his chair, which was no small feat with a belly that size to maneuver, and glared at his guest. “What has gotten into you?”
“Uh, a baby?”
“You’re not usually this annoying!”
“Thanks!” Dave rubbed his taut belly. “Sorry, man, I kinda have a stomach ache…”
Alan paused. “Wait, are you having contractions?”
“Uhhhhhh no.”
“You hesitated.”
“Nah, bro.” Dave waved his hand. “I just ate some weird wings or something. It’s been happening like all day.”
“Okay, are you sure, because early labor feels a lot like regular stomach cramps—“
“Alannnnn my maaaann I’m fiiiiine!” Dave rolled his eyes, giving Alan the look of an irritated teenager. “But, uh. Could you help me up? I gotta whizz again.”
Hours passed, and Alan continued to tap away at his essay, all while Dave was getting antsier and antsier on the couch.
“Hey, uh, Alan,” he called.
“What.”
“Do you have any anti-tummy ache shit maybe?”
“Dave, are you sure this isn’t—“
“Yes! I ate week-old hot wings, okay?”
“Why. Why would you have done that.”
“I’m living la vida loca!”
“God, I hate you.”
Alan managed to find some Tylenol, trying to conjure up some sympathy despite how worn-out he felt dragging around his own massive belly, his swollen chest aching and back screaming with the weight of his front. Night was falling, and after he got his son to sleep he returned to find a very uncomfortable looking Dave.
“You feeling any better?”
“Yeah so no actually—“ Dave cut off with a grimace. “…I would say worse is actually the one. Yeah.”
Alan sighed. “Okay, why don’t you go lie down in the other room for a bit?” Dave nodded stiffly, and Alan finished, “And if you don’t feel better soon, we are calling the hospital, okay?”
“You mean the ancient order dudes,” Dave corrected. “Cuz they have the magic shit. They said normal medicine won’t work for the pain or whatever.”
“See, that is the kind of information that would have been helpful to know weeks ago—“ Alan stopped himself and took a breath. “Okay. Let’s get you comfortable.”
Once he left Dave, Alan returned to his chair and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Reveling in the quiet, he dove into his essay headfirst, only to be broken out of his trance when by his son’s cries on the baby monitor. When he got back from rocking little Benny back to sleep, he finally glanced at the clock and realized just how many hours had passed.
A feeling of dread crept up in Alan’s stomach. He glanced at his bedroom door, where he’d left Dave.
“Please just be asleep, please just be asleep,” he muttered to himself, and peeked into the room. There, Dave was lying on his side, limbs curled around his heavy belly. Alan paused for a second, almost smiling at how sweet he looked. Until he heard a low, quiet moan come from the bed.
Ah, fuck.
Alan rushed over to the bedside. “Dave!” he hissed, only to be met with another moan. Alan’s eyes widened as he realized he could see the contraction passing over Dave’s belly, the muscles of his torso contracting violently around his womb.
He shook Dave’s shoulder as the contraction passed. “Dave! Why didn’t you say something!!!”
“Oh, hey, Alan…” Dave’s voice sounded weak. “Hey, uh, I think I might be in labo–hrk.” Dave convulsed again, breathing in sharply.
“Please tell me you called the wizard guys at least.” This was bad. If Dave couldn’t get out a full sentence between contractions, that was not a good sign.
Once Dave could catch his breath, he squinted. “Oh shit. Right. Forgot. Ow.”
“Fucking hell, Dave. How far away are they?”
“Uh ow ow ow fuck ow, uh, um, like, threeeee hours?” He gulped a breath of air, wincing.
“I’m going to kill you someday, you know that?”
“Can it be now?” Dave replied weakly.
“Okay. Shit. Um. Can you take your pants off?”
Dave gave him the look of someone who was incredibly confused about the truck he was being hit by. “...Why?”
“I need to see how far along you are, okay?”
Dave nodded, then groaned as another contraction hit. Alan waited through it, then tried to disrobe his friend as casually as possible. He was glad Dave was at least distracted. Then his eyes widened.
“Jesus christ,” he whispered. Dave looked like he was almost fully dilated. Alan thought hard. There was a very, very good chance Dave wouldn’t last until the order showed up. He had no doctor, no midwife, nothing. The nearest hospital was far enough away it would risk the baby coming in transit–or, best case scenario, Dave would have to give birth alone, in a cold, strange place, surrounded by strangers, with zero pain management options. Not a great option for anyone, and definitely not for a young trans guy.
“Okay.” Alan put a hand on Dave’s shoulder. “Dave. Listen. I had a home birth, I was there when my girlfriend had her daughter. I’m gonna help you do this, because you’re gonna do it here.”
Dave’s eyes widened. “Huh? No nononono, I don’t wanna do that–”
“Then you shouldn’t have–okay. Never mind. I’m gonna grab some supplies.”
Alan quickly shuffled through his apartment, tossing things aside as he tried to remember everything on his own home birth checklist. Ask he tore through his linens cabinet, a cry came from the other room.
“ALAN! ALAN SOMETHING IS WRONG ALAN ALAAAAAAN—”
Alan stumbled into the room, dropping his supplies and scrambling over to find Dave had pushed himself into a semi-seated position, and had a horrified look on his face.
“What?? What’s—” Alan took a look, and stopped. “Oh. It’s okay, Dave, your water just broke. That’s supposed to happen!”
“WHAT.”
“Man, there go my sheets…” Alan looked mournfully at his bed. There was no saving that bedspread now.
Alan dunked a washcloth in a small bucket of water he’d brought and wiped it across his friend’s brow. “Hey, come on, let it out, Dave! You’re keeping it all in.”
“A-FUCK OW—hhhhh-actually I think it’s coming out against my will??”
“No, I mean, you can scream and shit.”
“Oh.” Dave blinked, and then started screaming his head off.
Oh dear god please nobody call the police on us, Alan prayed to no one in particular. He stayed close to Dave, trying to get him to breathe, stop thrashing around like a maniac, and stay calm, mostly to no avail.
“Listen, Dave, listen to me,” Alan said, catching Dave in a brief moment between contractions when he stopped yelling long enough to hear anything, “this is called transition, and this is the hardest part, right? So after it you’re going to—“
He was cut off while Dave started screaming again. He waited a minute. The scream ended.
“Okay so you’re going to start feeling the urge to push soon, and that means transition is over. So right now it’s just about—“ (scream, thrash) “—about getting through the pain, so just try to focus on your breathi—“
Dave’s back arched, and he let out a howl of agony so intense it felt downright cinematic. Dave turned to Alan. “BRO. WHY DOES THIS SUCK SO MUCH.”
“Well, um, when we evolved as apes to stand upright we sort of sacrificed a pelvic structure wide enough to accommodate a reasonable birth canal, so—“
Dave panted. “That fucking SUCKS, FUCK monkeys all my homies hate monkeys let’s go back to being wolves or whatever the fuck—oh Jesus fucking christ—“
Alan’s eyebrows raised as Dave made the most strangled expression he’d ever seen on a human being. “Um, Dave, you okay there?”
Dave responded with a sound sort of like “HHNNNRRRRGGGGKkHH.”
“Hey, talk to me, what’s—“
“HOW DO I NOT PUSH??”
“Wh—” Alan’s eyes widened. “No, DO push! Pushing is good!”
“OH. HOW DO I PUSH??”
“Uh. You just.” Alan thought for a moment. “Huh, that’s interesting, I actually don’t know how to describe it! I just sort of did it on instinct, now that I think about it. Hm, how to explain it… well, it’s sort of li—“
“HNNNNNNNERGGGGGGGGGH.”
“Yeah, like that.”
Dave’s chest heaved, his forehead glistening with sweat. “Is-is it stuck or something??” He looked desperately at Alan. “Do you have to pull it out??”
“Boy, I sure hope not.” Alan started helping Dave into a squat. “It’s gonna take more than one push, man.”
“Wh-how many? Three??”
“Um, well, the pushing phase lasted about four hours for me, though that was on the longer side…”
Dave’s eyes widened in horror.
“But it’s okay!! It’s, uh, it’s not that bad!”
“I FEEL LIKE I AM BEING STABBED WITH NINETEEN KNIVES.”
“Okay yeah it is that bad.”
Quickly arranging the towels he’d managed to grab from his closet, Alan guided Dave into a reasonable position, legs spread beneath him. Alan slowly lowered himself down to kneel in front, offering his shoulders as a support. Dave continued to rotate between his sort of grunt-moan-yelling as he pushed with all his might and the brief pauses of respite between contractions in which he mostly looked… kind of bewildered.
“You’re doing great,” Alan said softly while Dave caught his breath. “Just keep breathing, try to relax while you push…”
“Is this—is this-“ Dave took a huge gulping breath. “Is this like, normal??”
“Well, every birth is unique!”
“But the-the stabbiness? And the wanting to chew your skin off thing?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s, that’s kind of standard. Unless you have an epidural, I guess. Uh, I don’t know about the skin part though?”
“Yeah man I’m really not a fan of having skin currently I’m kinda fixating on i—“ Dave cut off as another contraction crashed into him, and he pushed with all his might. Then, Alan gasped.
“The baby’s crowning! Come on, just a little more!”
Dave looked down and screamed.
“Oh Jesus, please tell me you at least knew that’s where the baby comes out of—“
“YES I KNEW THAT BUT OH MY GOD THERES A BABY THERE??”
“Yes, please stop thrashing around, that’s the baby—”
“NOO NONONO I DO NOT LIKE THAT.”
Dave’s look of terror turned quickly into pain as he let out a strangled sound and gave into pushing.
“Oh boy, um, Dave, maybe don’t look down.”
Dave’s eyes opened as he panted and immediately looked down. He let out an even higher pitched shriek.
“AAAAAAAAAA???”
“This—Listen, it doesn’t come out all at once-“
Dave continued shrieking. Now, personally, Alan had been too relieved and excited to feel much else when he’d been at this step. But he was starting to see how having a baby’s head sticking out of you could be… a little disturbing.
“AAAAAAA GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT”
“Then push!”
“OKAY.” Dave made a noise, his breaths coming hard and fast. Then he dug his fingers hard into Alan’s soft shoulders and pushed with all his might, yelling from the strain even as Alan yelled back in excitement, reaching forward, cloth ready.
Dave opened his eyes to see Alan hold up a crying baby. He blinked, staring at the tiny screaming infant, and collapsed immediately.
When Dave came to, he was tucked neatly into Alan’s bed, the fresh smell of clean sheets surrounding him. He turned to see Alan sitting next to him, feeding the teeny baby from his breast.
“Heheh,” Dave mumbled weakly, “titty…”
“Dave! You did it!” Alan grinned.
“Wooooo.” Dave pumped his fist about one millimeter in the air. “I am a bad bitch.”
“Members of the order should be here in fifteen minutes.” Wiping the baby's mouth, Alan held her out toward Dave. "Do you want to hold her?”
Dave squinted at Alan, looking over the wrinkly little thing in his arms. It was strange to think, but even as Dave’s belly deflated, he knew he wasn’t done yet. His ritual still bound him in its terms, and even now the next baby would be forming its first cells inside his worn-out womb. It would remain full of life until all four children were born, one after another.
Heyya! I’m gummii, this is my main. I’ve been fixated on Sonic the Hedgehog for a few years now, so that’s what you’ll (usually) see most on this blog.
My other interests here include:
Splatoon, Gravity Falls, Spider-Verse, Kirby, My Little Pony (Gen 4), Super Mario, the Legend of Zelda, Animal Crossing, Dungeon Meshi, The Last of Us, Pokémon (mostly just Team Rocket,) and various other random console games.
All of these fandoms can be found in my featured tags. Meanwhile, sideblogs are usually shorter-term hyperfixes.
Side blogs (newest to oldest):
✩ detroit: become human -> @iheartandroids
✩ smiling friends -> @iheartsmilingays
✩ the amazing digital circus -> @iheartdigitalcircuses
✩ nimona (the movie) -> @iheartnimona
✩ rottmnt -> @iheartrise
✩ stim blog gifs, sounds/music, stim boards, web resources, etc -> @stimmii
Stuff to note (BYF section):
~ I curse. Some nsfw jokes might be reblogged as well; you can block these under the “#suggestive” tag.
~ Mass likes/reblogs don’t bother me, don’t worry babes
~ I may randomly spam-like/reblog other blogs though. It’s genuinely never personal, sometimes other people’s blogs are just more interesting than the dashboard lol
~ On my main, I reblog things relating to politics or light discourse, usually just some civil rights stuff. This includes approved Palestine GoFundMe’s. I often don’t tag these categorically.
~ I can talk a LOT in the tags. That said, a lot of times I don’t, but honestly I am Nottt very good at holding myself back whenever the moment strikes. So welcome to my mind if you feel like reading it
~ autism and adhd haver, I might be a lil off-putting. I reblog about struggles sometimes under “#nd things”
~ I use tone indicators for anything that I think might be confusing, but always spelt-out— like “/sarcastic” or “/light hearted”
~ My memory is faulty, meaning I may reblog the same thing multiple times without meaning to, or forget to respond to a message/ask. (more on that below . . .)
Moot-to-Moot Communication:
~ l am genderqueer and use they/she/he, in order of preference. (When I say “alternation preferred”, I mean that I would greatly appreciate if you alternate between multiple of these pronouns for me, rather than choose one set forever. thank youu mwa)
~ If we’re mutuals, feel free to strike up a conversation for any random reason!!
~ I might be a lil late to respond, but I promise no matter what I will see your message and be thinking about it. The Dysfunction sure does hit (as well as the anxiety or memory issues. lots of that too)
Drawn demonstration by user cuptoast on twitter:
~ feel free to just message me a lil reminder if I don’t get back to you after a day!! I prolly forgor. Just a little “yo” or whatever you want is great, it helps a lot.
~ However, I usually start conversations with an ask. (It’s a little silly, but it’s easier for me to keep track of and less intimidating that way.) If you’d prefer, you can just respond to it in messages.
~ I’m currently following 4000+ blogs 🥲 This means I never really see moots on the dashboard, which means I don’t really interact except for once in a while, when I might FLOOD your posts with likes + reblogs ,:]
~ In any potentially unclear messages, I would very much appreciate tone indicators (or any other form of clarification 👍) I may just ask for the tone if I’m confused.
~ Just let me know if you want me to tag something for filtering out, like spoilers but also literally anything else.
DNI:
In general, I block freely who I don’t want to interact with. However, here are my stances if it makes anyone more comfortable (or uncomfortable) to know.
- I stand with Palestine for a ceasefire. I reblog about Palestinian news and history often, as well as verified Gofundme pages for families seeking to evacuate.
- That said, I fully support our Jewish friends. anti-Zionism ≠ anti-Semitism.
- I am against proshipping; meaning I am heavily against the fictional fetishization of children, rape, zoophilia, or incest.
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THE END!!!! Thanks for reading!! pow bam blang hearts attack💥💥💕💘💗💗
