Apparently, my bittybones really enjoy trashy reality television. Corvus the Kara bitty, Egg the Softbones, Buttons, Yanberry, and Phantom stared enraptured as stupid humans (basically all humans) said and did stupid things in crystal clear HD with surround sound. I'm not one to look a gift distraction in the mouth, so I proceeded with my idea for the Good Boy Points, or G.

I started by digging a collection of small Mason jars out of the cupboard from my brief stint as a person who thinks she can make her own sauces, pickles, and preserves. Canning one's own food is an art form in which I possess zero talent, and I ended up wasting a significant amount of time, money, and produce with very little to show for it aside from burned fingers. I've learned my lesson though: just get store bought. My standards aren't all that high anyway (you did adopt that shirtless asshole…).

Since I still had the jars, I decided to turn my DIY failure into a DIY opportunity! I dug out another box stuffed full of forgotten craft projects that had also surpassed my limited talents. Choosing seven equally sized jars, I got to work decorating. These would be excellent banks for the Good Boy Points, and nobody would judge my sub-par construction (that's what you think)!

I adorned each jar with a name tag, leaving the lids off because I don't have the tools to make a slot in them, and I wouldn't know how to use the tools even if I did. I wrapped the mouth of each container with a different color of dyed suede cord: red for Red (your favorite!), teal for Brassy, blue for Buttons, purple for Yanberry, black for Corvus, pastel pink for Egg, and yellow for Phantom. 

All I had left to do was make the actual Good Boy Points. I wanted my boys to have something tangible to show for their good deeds. I took some thin sheets of balsa wood that, once upon a time, I tried to use to make (rickety) bitty furniture for Red. My carpentry career ended in a tragic bitty bed collapse (i almost dusted). Now I punched out tiny circles with a hole punch, catching Buttons’ and Berry’s attention.

I showed the pair of curious bittys the shimmery paints that I wanted to use on my wooden counterfeit currency, and they immediately volunteered to help with the painting. Soon, the three of us had created an assembly line, churning out quite a substantial supply of bronze, silver, and gold “coins.” Sure, Buttons and Berry ended up partially gilded, but we accomplished our task… just in time for lunch!

I may be bad at crafts (and building furniture and dating and paying attention to your precious edgy bitty), but I can whip up an ooey, gooey delicious grilled cheese sandwich in a matter of minutes. I even graciously added ham to one of the sandwiches for my little meat maulers. I handed out bitty-sized cubes of toasted bread and melted cheese without ham to Corvus, Egg, and Buttons and ones with ham to Berry and Phantom. With a deep, calming breath, I entered the bedroom to deliver lunch to the inmates.

Red snatched his mini sandwich out of my hands then turned his back on me to eat it. I gave his head a little scratch anyway, and he growled halfheartedly. Brassy accepted his sandwich with a bit more manners (kiss ass), but he still pouted while he munched. I turned back to Red only to see two cheesy pieces of bread somehow stuck to the ceiling of his bitty house while Red himself held the ham between his jaws and shook it like a rabid dog (woof).

The introduction of Good Boy Points could not happen soon enough, so I collected Red, Brassy, and the ruined bread and headed for the living room. An irate Red demanded the remains of his lunch (it's mine!), and I reluctantly returned it to him, expecting it to end up on the living room ceiling. He ate it thankfully, but refused to let go of my hand when I tried to set him down next to his bitty brothers.

As soon as Brassy noticed Red's clinginess, he latched onto the hand that held him with his arms and legs. I resigned myself to my fate and allowed each of them to perch on one of my shoulders. Red promptly wrapped himself in my hair (i didn't want to fall) and glared balefully at the world around him.

I sat down cross legged on the floor and introduced my newly invented reward system to the boys with the reality show playing, forgotten now, in the background. The bittybones crowded around to check out their individual jars, and I explained that all good behavior would earn the bitty a Good Boy Point or G for short. No good deeds or bad behavior meant no G, though no G would be removed from a jar once awarded.

By this point, the two bittys who had stubbornly demanded to be held (me!)(And me) changed their minds in lieu of investigating the pile of freshly painted Good Boy Points. I continued my planned speech about the G, telling my potential good boys that their points could be redeemed for treats at the bitty shop or grocery store, specially requested items if I could find them, or the greatest reward of all: special one-on-one activities with me!

(sign me up!)

Yanberry happily exclaimed that he couldn't wait to redeem his G for a flamethrower, which led to a discussion about things my boys would not be buying with their points. They were not allowed to “draw me like one of their French girls” (i asked) especially since the only bitty with that much artistic talent only wanted a flamethrower. They would also not be joining me or watching me during showers or baths (I asked that one). I made a blanket rule forbidding all perverted, sexual, or dangerous uses of G which made Red, Brassy, and Berry sulk. 

I concluded my presentation by placing the first official Good Boy Points in Buttons’ and Berry’s jars since they had helped me with the project. I then awarded a G to each of my bittys for behaving during my explanation. Red tried to argue that he saw Phantom winking at me, and I had to point out that I did not consider winking to be bad behavior (it's a gateway bad behavior!). 

I very politely neglected to point out that I do, however, consider stealing to be bad behavior, and me and my five well behaved bittys had all pretended not see Red and Brassy stuffing quick handfuls of G into their pockets like the tiniest of kleptomaniacs.

(how dare you accuse us of such crimes)

I guess they didn't realize that the paint on some of the Good Boy Points hadn't completely dried yet.

It's hard to feign innocence when the gold, silver, and bronze evidence is sparkling on their sticky little palms.

(shit)

-

READ ON AO3

The train was already off the rails, but trying to settle the new bittybones into their new rooms in the bitty house steered that derailed train into an alternate dimension where rails didn't even exist. 

My well laid plans crumbled the moment I placed Softbones down in his room. Corvus the Kara bitty quickly swooped into the same room, swept all of the available blankets into a nest-like pile on top of little Softy, and sat on him. Softy giggled and fell asleep, his tiny adorable snores filling his room. Corvus kooed in contentment, apparently satisfied with the safety and warmth of his adopted "egg."

The phrase "the more, the merrier" clearly does not extend to bittybone adoption, a fact which I learned on the drive home from the bitty convention. First I had to politely ask Phantom not to smoke in enclosed spaces when he took out a pack of bitty sized cigarettes. Who even makes teeny, tiny cigarettes anyway? Next, I chastised my jealous little Edgy and Brassberry bittys because their combined glower power was well over 9000 and aimed directly at Phantom.

(he deserved it)

That's when the swearing started. The source of the swearing? One adorable, innocent-looking Yanberry with an impressive vocabulary of wildly inappropriate language.

(enough to make an edgy proud)

Little Buttons the Blank bitty stared, sockets wide with admiration as the freckle-faced gremlin described everything as an [adjective] ass [noun], used f-bombs in a grammatically correct format for almost every single word in a sentence, and loudly suggested that an aggressive driver should do things that were both physically impossible and legally frowned upon with graphic detail. Now, I myself am known to use an occasional ass expletive to tell some fucker what they can do with their own genitalia and mother (go momma!), but I knew I would have to have a conversation with Yanberry about reining it in… a lot. 

The last thing I want is for sweet, innocent Buttons to start talking like a sailor at a swearing competition. 

Gigi covered her mouth with her hand, trying to muffle her laughter as I explained that Yanberry would have to censor his language. The deceptively cute little bastard then proceeded to go through his entire repertoire of vulgarity, asking me one at a time and alphabetically if each individual word or phrase was acceptable. It took every scrap of patience that I had, plus a 30 year, high interest patience loan to deal with the utter and unrivaled sass. Maybe I should have adopted several more Edgy bittys instead.

(she looked like she might explode. it was great.)

Red and Brassberry cackled like hyenas at Yanberry's antics until Phantom decided to give me a comforting kiss on the back of my hand. Suddenly my two jelly skellies decided that a round of no-holds barred, every bitty for himself wrestling death match would be a fun travel activity (it was!). I quickly put a stop to it (boo) just as we pulled up in front of the house.

Yanberry, Buttons, Jealous 1 (me!), Jealous 2 (Why can't I be Jealous 1?), and Phantom all opted to ride in my infinity scarf for the best vantage point going into the house. After getting them somewhat situated, I gathered my shopping bags and peeked into the basket carrier to check on my last two bittys.

Corvus the Kara bitty gave a sleepy "koo~" before snuggling back down into the nest he'd made from the soft blankets inside. I spotted two itsy, bitsy slipper-clad feet sticking out from under the nest.

Apparently Corvus thought little Softbones was some sort of egg in need of incubation. Cute! I lifted the basket into my arms and headed into the house. We were fine. Everything was just fine. Nothing to see here, especially if I deliberately choose not to see it.

I pretended that Red hadn't just shoved his little hands in Brassy's face. 

I pretended that Brassy didn’t bite one of the offending hands.

I pretended not to hear an already-long-suffering sigh from Phantom.

I pretended that Yanberry didn't let out a string of creative curses about his "awesome ass new home."

I pretended that Buttons didn't quietly repeat one of the words in a tone of wonderment.

We were all going to be one big happy family.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

…

…

What have I gotten myself into?

READ ON AO3

“i have a suggestion,” Red volunteered for the umpteenth time since we’d crossed into the bitty adoption area of the convention.

“We are not going to skip the other adoptions,” I told him, also for the umpteenth time since entering the bitty adoption area.

“But we could,” ventured Brassberry, actually agreeing with his sibling and nemesis for the umpteenth time since entering the bitty adoption area.

Corvus the Kara bitty koo’ed in exasperation, and I couldn’t have agreed more. Nothing united my two stubborn boys as effectively as vetoing additional bittybones adoptions. They’d been distracted when I adopted the agreed upon Kara bitty, but now I had their undivided attention and very vocal objections.

“We discussed all of this earlier,” I told them firmly, “and this isn’t a democracy. End of conversation.” I doubted the words would work; I knew my boys too well.

(i vote that we make it a democracy!)

(I second the vote!)

“tyranny!” declared Red.

“Vive la resistance!” shouted Brassberry.

“Your protests have been noted. We’re still adopting the new bittys,” I informed them.

“But-” they cried in unison.

“No buts!” Owning an Edgy and a Brassberry bittybones was a constant exercise in patience and strength of will.

“There were butts earlier,” grumbled Brassberry. Red vanished into my purse.

Soon the sounds of my possessions being destroyed by an Edgy tantrum emanated from the general vicinity of my purse. The two dissenters had given up on objecting for now, but I doubted things could be so easy, especially when I heard Red enthusiastically tearing fabric at my side.

(you doubted correctly)

Our first stop was a table with a canopy over it. Beneath the canopy, sheltered from the harsh lighting of the convention center, napped a pile of Softbones bittys. Some of them snored, and some of them kicked their tiny feet as they dreamed. The person overseeing the table provided wicker carrying baskets lined with blankets and soft pillows for adopters to carry their newly adopted Softbones in.

I offered to let Red and Brassy help me select a Softbones, but they maintained their icy silence. I nudged a few of the Softbones until one of them reflexively clung to my hand. I lifted the sleeping bitty to my face and inhaled deeply. Softbones smell wonderful, and I hoped adopting one would help Buttons sleep more peacefully. The attendant carefully placed my bitty selection in one of the baskets, and we moved along to the next table.

(i was taken to the next table against my will!)

The lack of loud complaining made me nervous. I would not put it past my two boys to be up to something (i am extremely well-behaved except when i’m being treated unfairly, or hungry, or not being paid attention to, or need a nap….), but Corvus, the sweetheart, climbed down into the basket and curled up next to the Softbones for a nap.

The next table held a small selection of bittybones, including the type I wanted. As I observed the Yanberries, they scurried to and fro, sorting through boxes of clothing and playing dress-up. A few of them were even accessorizing. Buttons really loves fashion, but I don’t want to traumatize him with buttons and sewing needles. I hoped that a Yanberry could work with him to bring his fashion ideas to life without Buttons having to handle things he’s not ready for yet.

I couldn’t help chuckling as a Yanberry darted past me with a handful of ribbons. His outfit was brightly colored, and his cheekbones were spattered with cute (stupid!) little freckles. He stopped when he heard me cooing over him (boo!) and smiled up at me.

My purse grumbled, but I ignored it.

A humanoid monster who worked at the stand helped me select some outfits for the new Yanberry and cautioned me that he will want lots of clothing and creative projects to keep him happy (high maintenance). I listened, nodding politely as the boos and hisses from my purse increased in volume. The Yanberry joined Corvus and the Softbones in the basket since the purse seemed to be a rather unwelcoming environment at the moment.

I chose to adopt the Kara bitty, the Yanberry, and the Softbones because I wanted to provide the best bitty family possible for Buttons (we were already the best family!), but when I saw a sign describing the G!Sans bitty called Phantom, I knew I wanted one for myself.

My boys were not going to like this one bit.

PREV | INDEX | NEXT

Kara bitty by bitty-fluff

Softbones bitty by bittybones-au

We spent the next few hours at BittyCon focusing on food, fashion, and fun. I found a much nicer merchant selling quality leather clothing and accessories for bittybones of all sizes. Brassy Bean picked out a new silver-studded jacket, and Red got a gorgeous oxblood leather collar without being hassled about his bitty type.

After even more table browsing (and a few additional purchases), we munched our way through the food court, trying a little bit of fried everything while nouveau fashion icons Red and Brassy leaned out of my purse, desperately clambering for attention from passersby.

(you mean our adoring fans)

I discussed possible names for the new Kara bitty with him over powdered sugar-dusted funnel cake and tropical fruit smoothies. Together, we decided on Corvus, the Latin word for raven. Red and Brassy were more interested in trying a spicy wing challenge than choosing names, and despite my many, many unheeded warnings, my two very competitive bittybones squared off with a drumette each, drenched in a sauce that made my eyes water just from smelling it!

(Pfft, you're just a spice wimp, Momma!)

(yea, tough guys like us can handle the heat!)

Brassy and Red chowed down like tiny, ravenous wolves… and immediately regretted it.

(My whole body burned)

(i was dying)

I actually had to strip both of my bittys down and bathe them in milk provided by the wing shop as a courtesy to remove the sauce and soothe the full-body burning sensation. With their pain relieved, Brassy and Red went right back to squabbling, namely arguing over who won their spicy wing competition.

(I won. I ate more of it!)

(you also threw it up all over the table)

I quietly reassured Corvus that Buttons behaved better than both of his brothers combined, but the newly-adopted bitty seemed to be amused by the other two bittys’ antics. He'd have a lifetime to get tired of their constant shenanigans, so I simply responded to his indulgent smile with one of my own.

Knowing that Brassy and Red would never settle their argument (because i won) (No, I won!), I distracted them with a different activity. One of the convention tables featured a Bittybones Treasure Hunt where bittys could dig around in brightly colored sand and find shiny polished crystals. I knew my boys would love it.

Red claimed a corner of the sandbox and several shovels to painstakingly excavate, but Brassberry took a different approach. He crouched down on all fours and scooped sand with both hands like an enthusiastic puppy. Sand flew everywhere, including across the invisible line separating Red’s territory from Brassy’s.Using his shovel like a catapult, Red launched a counterattack.

At first, I was mortified by the behavior, but the person in charge of the table waved me away, telling me to let the boys have their fun. He told me it was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all day. A crowd gathered to watch my two bittys wage war over a small wooden box of sand, the polished stones forgotten, flung aside in favor of more gritty ammunition. I heard a small koo from my shoulder. Corvus laughed uproariously at the spectacle, and I soon joined him.

Time expired on Red and Brassy’s Treasure Adventure, and the attendant carefully separated and bagged the stones that each of my bittys had unearthed… and mostly scattered across the floor. Red and Brassy climbed back into my purse to count and compare their prizes, animosity forgotten as they admired their loot.

(i found more)

(Mine were bigger)

The convention would be ending soon, and I still had an unfinished errand, or rather, two unfinished errands. I headed back into the adoption area, and Red and Brassy tensed and fell silent. We’d all sat down and discussed the plans for today before we even left the house this morning, but hearing about adopting more bittybones and actually picking them out were two very different experiences.

PREV | INDEX | NEXT

First, I calmly explained why we weren’t going to a tantric massage class for bittybones... and then we argued about why we weren’t going to a tantric massage class for bittybones. When I say we argued, of course I mean that Red and I argued because Brassberry is well-behaved and can take “no” for an answer.

(he’s a quitter!)

(I just understand that you can’t make Momma do things with tantrums.)

(i could before you got here and started undermining my methods)

I ignored Red and Brassberry’s noisy squabbling and went back to checking my pamphlet. The bittybones creator we had traveled here to meet should be set up in the Adoption Alley area of BittyCon, but an asterisk next to her name informed me that she’d only be at her booth in the afternoon. My bittybones and I had several hours to kill, so I tried to find a decent panel that we could all enjoy. It turned out that the Kara bittybones’ creator, Miss Fluffers, was away from her booth because she was judging a Blank bittybones pageant that started in less than an hour!

I’d purchased an All-Access Pass which meant Red, Brassy, and I could attend any of the panels, but seats were first come, first served. I really wanted to see how other people’s Blank bittybones had developed. Maybe I could even ask some of the Blank owners for their opinions about Buttons’ unique situation. I hurried to the conference room where the competition would be taking place to join the already-forming line outside the doors. I didn’t know if I could spend an hour with nothing but the sounds of my two tiny boys shouting insults at each other though.

(he started it!)

(Nuh uh! Red started it!)

Fortunately, the convention catered to many different tastes in the creative arts, and the conference room for the Blank bittybones pageant was adjacent to an area where writers and comic artists were displaying their wares. I love stories of all kinds, not just ones about bittybones, so I sidled over to the nearest table to take a look. A large sign at the table had the author’s name: Mage of Light, and two smaller signs indicated the “all ages” and “adults only” stories. 

Of course, my bittybones tried to wrangle me to the porno section. They’d given up on tantric massage and would settle for some self-insert fantasies instead... but I said no. To which one of them angrily protested. There’s no prize for guessing who. I’ll give you a hint: it wasn’t Brassberry.

(duh, cuz he’s a kiss-ass)

I didn’t feel like parading around the convention with two aroused passengers all day, so I picked up one of the all-ages stories to browse. The title page read: A Cure for Sleep Troubles. It sounded cute!

(no, the title sounded stupid!)

Shushing my complaining bitty, who seemed determined to be as rude as possible as often as possible throughout the day, I began to read, and Brassberry clambered up to my left shoulder to join me.

(reading is for nerds)

(Momma likes to read)

(it’s ok for girls to be nerds, assberry)

The story had an adorable plot, and Brass Bean and I finished the first page quickly. I turned to page two to continue reading when Red shouted indignantly:

“Hey I wasn’t done yet!”

(I thought reading was for nerds?)

(There wasn’t anything else to do, nerd)

To which Brassberry, jumping aboard the choo-choo train to Rudesville, population two, replied:

“It’s not our fault you’re practically illiterate!”

“I’m not illiterate! I read slow because I’m taking the time to enjoy it!”

I had to snatch Brassberry off of my shoulder to keep them from punching each other. Blushing furiously, I paid for our copy of the story. The author at the booth tried to hide a knowing smile. I considered offering them one of my incorrigible boys since they found the antics so amusing. Instead, I sat down on the floor next to the conference room door, close enough to get in when the pageant started, but far enough away to dull the sound of raised bitty voices.

“Guys, stop fighting!” I hissed at them. They subsided reluctantly, glaring at me with narrowed sockets like I had somehow wronged them by picking up the accursed story. “If you settle down and behave, I'll read it to you, ok?”

And finally, finally, they agreed on something, sitting quietly as I started over from the beginning:

“Sans had always been a bit of a light sleeper...”

PREV | INDEX | NEXT

Miss Fluffers and Kara bittybones by bitty-fluff

A car horn honked from the driveway, and I scrambled to gather up everything I needed to attend BittyCon 2017. Merch cash and bittybones snacks? Already in my purse. Infinity scarf for bittybones to ride in? Already around my neck and draped perfectly for passengers. Lastly, I gathered up my three good boys for a day full of fun and adventure.

(two good boys and a brassy)

Gigi had offered us a ride to the convention center since she would already be stopping by to pick up Buttons, who, after a family discussion about our plans for the day, had opted to stay with her at the shop. Gigi had recently acquired a shipment of Kitten Sans bittybones, and Buttons couldn’t wait to play with them. Though he had come a long way in the month and half since I (we!) adopted him, he still wasn’t ready for a bustling crowd and the possibility of encountering Papyrus-type bittybones.

I had second thoughts as we pulled up in front of the building. There were people milling around everywhere! I wanted to get the Kara bitty for Buttons though; today was about making our family better, not about me and my insecurities. I gave Buttons a kiss on his tiny round cheek, and he patted me encouragingly.

“You can do it, Momma,” he chirped in his sweet, gentle voice.

I attempted to scoop up my other two not-as-good-as-previously-mentioned boys, but they demanded kisses loudly before they would allow me to pick them up.

(it’s only fair! buttons got kisses!)

I had to smooch Red first, otherwise he would pout (damn right!), but Brassy proudly bragged that I’d smooched him longer and therefore loved him more. Red insisted on a second kiss, which Brassy deemed incredibly unfair. I must’ve spent at least five minutes outside the convention center trying to evenly distribute kisses to itsy, bitsy cheekbones before they finally agreed to clamber onto my scarf. 

Of course, they couldn’t settle themselves comfortably into the infinity scarf without squabbling over prime real estate. They couldn’t even decide which area was the prime real estate to squabble over. The trough of the scarf rested over my breasts and provided the best viewpoint, but the coveted shoulder curve of the fabric permitted whoever occupied it to be my seeing eye bitty.

(that’s my job!)

I guess Red couldn’t pass up the opportunity to hiss and screech at random strangers, so he took up residence at my shoulder while Brassy took the soft, cleavage-pillow helm to steer us to various locations, most of which involved food. I gave Brassberry some time to direct our wandering while I took a few deep breaths. The convention center was packed, bristling with people.

Red whispered comforting words in my ear.

(i asked for a jelly bean)

He did not ask for a jelly bean. He may deny it, but Red worked very hard to keep me calm in the seething mass of bittybones enthusiasts. He also yelled “Watch out, jackass!” quite a bit more than I would consider necessary.

(it was necessary)

Without Red’s assurances and Brassberry’s calm guidance, I probably would’ve left, embarrassed by my weakness and crying. Instead, I grabbed an event program. We had an all-access pass, so we could attend any of the panels we wanted. I was determined to enjoy my BittyCon experience. I held up the pamphlet to my less-good-than-ever bittys, eager to hear their input.

"Tantric bitty massage,” they shouted in excited unison.

What had I gotten myself into?

INDEX | NEXT

Kitten Sans bitty by nsfwalphatalelioness

Contains: blood, mild horror elements