bio :a sock on the doorknob means they’re at it again… and it also means an excuse for Mark to see you.
author’s note :idk about you guys but I LIVE for college AU’s. Also this is kinda cute bc in this Mark has the biggest crush on you and no I’m not living vicariously through Y/N what you’re crazy… Also this is unedited bc I’m too lazy and I needed to get this out asap bc I haven’t posted material in a month oops
Oh man, most of my headcanons for him are so… not-serious? Forgive me 😅
Guzma spent at least some time in Johto as a kid. (His dad is from Johto, mom is Alolan.) The Dawn Stone he gives you was a price from the bug catching contest. And the Scizor he has in post-game was the Scyther he caught in that contest, but it was left home when Guzma ran away.
He almost never goes out at daytime, and gets little sleep.
G loves sweet food the best. He can fit a whole malasada in his mouth!
He has a natural talent for writing but never put it to use. Our boy would be a great songwriter. “You little misfits keep getting up in my grill, like a cloud of smoke that I can’t brush away. It’s time I put out your fire at the source.” Like… That use of metaphors, dude.
The ‘bunny’ graffiti next to the door of Guzma’s room is his impression of Golisopod. Some grunts mistook it for a Sliggoo… rip
“Can you please do a part two to the GwashxReader with the smol hamilsquad?
“I need a part 2 of the GwashxReader with the smol hamilsquad, & please let it be happy.”
Prompts: 285: “There’s something *we* need to tell you.” 67: “How could anyone be that cruel?” 201: “Is that what I think it is?”
A/N: (Okay, I’m gonna apologize in advance. Some people might hate me for what this part will lead up to, but I was really planning on putting this little twist into the plot of the first part- But… I hope that you guys enjoy part two of Our Boys!)
“Alright boys. Time to head to bed.” (Name) spoke as she stood from the couch. She heard a chorus of protests from her four sons.
“But Mooom…” Alexander groaned.
“Don’t ‘but mooom’ me, Alex. You boys start school again in a month, and with your sleep schedules being as bad as they are, you need to get them back on track.”
“Maman, do we really have to?” Lafayette asked, running a hand through his wild head of hair.
“Your mother’s right, boys.” George spoke as he stood, stretching his back. “No complaints.”
John looked up at his father. “But Dad-”
“Don’t make me say ‘march’ boys.” George warned.
Hercules let out a sigh of defeat. “C’ome on, guys. We know they’re right.” He stood from the couch, letting out a yawn. “Night Mom. Night Dad.” He spoke as he began to walk out of the living room.
The other boys followed in suit, bidding their parents goodnight as they past.
“Good night, sons.” George spoke, chuckling with Alexander waved tiredly in response.
(Name) leaned against her husband, smiling up at him. “Can you believe it’s almost been a year and a half since they came?”
George shook his head, wrapping an arm around (Name)’s waist. “I really can’t… It feels like they’ve been here forever.”
“I know… I love it.” (Name) laughed as she and George began to walk to their room for bed. “You know, George. Is there anything you want this year?”
The veteran chuckled, shaking his head as be pulled some sweats from his drawer. “(Name)…”
“George. It’s our 25th anniversary. I want to get you something.” The wife gently protested, going over and cupping his cheeks.
“(Name). Love.” George wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist. “You’ve given this old general all he could ever want. A wonderful home, a beautiful wife to come home to, and four great kids that we get to look after. What more do I need when I already have the perfect family?”
The wife looked at her husband with uncertainty, but sighed softly. “Fine, I won’t get you anything.”
“Good.” George agreed. “Then I’m all too happy to throw a grilling party in the backyard and invite the neighbors.” He spoke before pressing a kiss to her lips to seal the deal.
“Hey! Not fair!” (Name) laughed as she pulled away.
“It’s completely fair. I’m not giving you anything, we’re giving to our kids and our neighbors.” George refuted with a grin, going to the couple’s bathroom. “It’s a win-win for everyone.”
(Name) let out a chuckle, shaking her head. “George Washington, you are unbelievable.”
“And yet, you love me, (Name) Washington.” George answered as he came back into the room, changed into one of his old t-shirts and sweats, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist.
“That, I certainly do.” She replied.
“Guys! Guys we gotta do something!” John exclaimed quietly as he ran back to his room from the bathroom.
“Dude, what?” Alexander groaned. “Some of us are trying to get to sleep.”
“Mon frère, what has you so excited?” Lafayette yawned.
John grinned at his brothers. “Guys, Ma and Pa. Their anniversary is coming up. Their 25th anniversary.”
“Twenty-five years?” Hercules breathed. “Wow…”
“Okay. We gotta do something.” Alexander spoke, now fully awake.
“Oui.” Lafayette agreed. “Question is, what.”
“No time like the present to spitball ideas.” John spoke as he climbed up onto his bunk. “Alex, take notes.”
“Dude, it’s like midnight-”
The couple turned from the grill to see Hercules leading Philip Schuyler and his three daughters into the spacious backyard. George chuckled and put down the burger patties and hot dogs to go meet his friend. (Name) followed closely behind him.
“Philip, I’m glad you and the girls could make it.” George spoke.
“Hey, today’s a special day for you two. You should spend it with people who care about you.” Philip chuckled, smiling at the couple.
(Name) smiled at Philip before turning to the three girls. “And how are you girls doing today?”
“We’re well, thank you!” Angelica answered.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Washington.” Eliza piped, smiling up at her French teacher.
“Yeah! Congrats!” Peggy agreed with a jump of excitement.
The woman smiled at the three girls, giving them each a hug before they went off to meet Alexander and John who were setting picnic tables.
Philip chuckled softly as he watched his daughters run off. “So, did you just invite us or is anyone else coming to join us?” He asked the Washingtons.
“Aaron Jr is coming.” (Name) answered. “His parents are away on business, but we figured this would be a nice way for him to have some company.”
The father of three nodded in understanding. “Yes, and considering how busy the Burrs can be, I suppose that’s just likely to happen. I am impressed to know that he’s so self-sufficient already.”
“Well, you don’t need us to tell you how fast they grow up.” (Name) said with a chuckle.
“Don’t I know it.” Philip sighed, shaking his head.
“Thank you so much for the food, Mr. Washington. It was really good.” Aaron spoke as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.
“Mr. Washington’s grilling is more than good!” Angelica grinned. “It’s amazing!”
George chuckled, smiling at the kids. “Thank you. I’m glad you all enjoy my grilling.”
“No one get up! We’ll get dishes!” Alexander spoke quickly as he and his brothers stood up. (Name) was about to stand as well, but Hercules stopped her.
“Let us, Mom. We got this.” He said with a grin, gathering plates.
“We’ll be right back.” Lafayette promised as he led the way back inside.
“George… Did you plan something?” (Name) asked her husband, quirking a brow.
The husband shook his head. “You knew what I was planning… I have nothing to do with this.”
“Sons. What are you gonna do with them?” Philip asked with a chuckle as Peggy scooted closer to his side.
“Nothing but be thankful.” (Name) answered, putting a hand over George’s and giving it a light squeeze. “Those boys… They’re probably the best thing that’s happened to us.”
“Agreed.” George murmured, pressing a kiss to (Name)’s head.
“I remember the day they arrived.” Philip hummed, resting a chin on his hand. “(Name), you were glowing brighter than the sun you were so happy.”
(Name) chuckled softly at the memory. “I remember that day… God we were so nervous they wouldn’t like us.”
“It certainly didn’t show.” Philip assured.
“Mrs. Washington did look kind of out of it when the boys first came to school.” Eliza piped, playing with her long dark hair.
“And boy was Mr. Washington angry when John and Lee got into it.” Aaron added.
The couple remembered each instant the kids brought up about the boys. Their first day at the school, the first family vacation, and even the first family argument. While there were some unpleasant memories mixed in with the unforgettable ones, (Name) and George wouldn’t trade any of them away,
Everyone’s attention was drawn away from their conversations when the four brothers soon returned outside. John was carrying clean plates, Alexander was behind him carrying utensils, Hercules casually walked out while hiding something behind his back, and Lafayette had yet to reappear.
“Boys… What is this?” George asked John as he placed a plate in front of his foster father.
“Don’t you worry, Dad. You’ll see.” Alexander promised as he distributed forks.
The two parents looked at each other in confusion, curious as to what their sons were planing. When the back door opened, both (Name) and George were surprised to see Lafayette walking out with a cake on a platter.
“What in the world?” (Name) nearly laughed as her French son placed the homemade cake down on the picnic table. “Oh Laf, you didn’t have to do this.”
“We wanted to, Maman, besides, you haven’t even seen the gift.” He said with a grin, stepping to stand next to his brothers.
George quirked a brow at the four boys. “Gift?”
“Yeah.” John responded, stepping forward and handing an envelope to (Name). “Read this out loud.”
(Name) quirked a brow at John’s request, but opened the envelope. She recognized the sketch on the card as one of John’s works, and smiled at Alexander’s fancy writing. Clearing her throat, she began to read aloud.
“ ‘Dear Mom, Ma, Maman, and Dad, Pa, Papa,’ ” She read, chuckling softly as she looked up at her son’s who were smiling proudly. “ ‘Today, twenty five years ago, you two became the best partners anyone could ever ask for… You also became husband and wife.’ ” (Name) heard George chuckle next to her, then smiled as she felt a kiss being pressed to her head.
“Keep going.” Alexander urged gently.
(Name) smiled at her son and nodded. “ ‘In those twenty five years, you two have been through thick and thin, sickness and health, and a lot of other stuff that you went through before we got here.’ ” She paused, laughing. “Descriptive, Alexander.”
“Okay, okay.” (Name) replied. “ ‘About a year and a half ago, you gave the four of us a home, a home that we didn’t believe would be permanent… But we were so glad to be proven wrong. Letting us borrow your books, letting us cook with you, letting us live with you, you taking care of us, you both were the parents that we hoped for and waited so long to meet.’ ” The wife felt tears prick at her eyes as she read on.
“(Name)…” George soothed, rubbing his wife’s arm.
The foster mother chuckled, nodding to her husband that she was okay. “ ‘Which is why, on this special day, we want to give you both a gift that would mean the world to the four of us… Hercules give Dad the thing.’ What?” (Name) looked up at the four brothers who were nudging the eldest forward
Hercules made his way over to George and brought a manilla folder that had a white note taped to the front out from behind his back. Hercules gave his foster father a genuine smile as he gave the veteran the folder and stepped back to join his brothers.
George watched the boys for a moment to read the note. “ ‘Dad, if you’re reading this, you’ve gotten the thing. Anyway. We all would like to formally announce that Alexander Hamilton, John Laurens, Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette, and Hercules Mulligan… No longer wish to be your foster sons. Open the folder to find out why.’ ” George’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, glancing at his wife who looked just as confused. “Boys…”
“Just open the folder!” John exclaimed, practically shaking with excitement.
Doing as his son asked, George opened the folder and pulled out its contents. His eyes scanned the white papers before they widened considerably. He quickly passed the papers to (Name), reading them over again with her.
“Mom, Dad, there’s something we need to tell you… And we hope this gets the point across.” Hercules spoke.
“What does it say?” Angelica inquired.
“Yeah! What?” Peggy mimicked.
(Name) swallowed the lump forming in her throat as tears welled in her eyes. “You boys… Want us to adopt you?” She asked softly.
Alexander nodded. “You’ve both been the best family any of us could ever ask for.”
“You’ve been patient, kind, and all around great parents.” John added.
Lafayette rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “We never really expected to find a home here with you two… But now we’re so thankful that we did.”
“We decided that all four of us want this. We want to be a real family with you two… All you have to do is sign the paperwork, if you want us, of course…” Hercules finished, his hands shoved in his pockets.
(Name) stared at her foster sons, completely shell shocked. She stood from her seat, putting down the adoption forms and walking over to the boys.
Alexander’s brows furrowed in worry when he noticed (Name)’s watery gaze. “Mom…?”
“Are you okay?” John asked, joining Alexander.
The woman let out a watery laugh as she brought all four boys into a tight embrace.
“Maman?” Lafayette looked worriedly at (Name), almost frightened when he saw tears flowing from her eyes.
“George!” (Name) nearly sobbed, making the four brother’s and her husband jump at her raised voice. “Get your butt over here and help me hug our sons!”
The boys visibly relaxed at (Name)’s response, Lafayette even shed a couple tears of his own as he hugged (Name) in return. Moments later, George joined the large family hug, pressing a kiss to (Name)’s head.
“So… Is that a yes?” Alexander asked, grinning uncertainly at his foster parents.
(Name) let out a laugh, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “Of course it’s a yes.”
“Well then, now that that’s all settled. Why don’t we all dig into this cake?” Philip said with a grin, standing from his seat.
Eliza groaned, hitting the palm of her hand to her forehead. “Dad. Way to ruin the moment.”
Months had gone by, the adoption had gone through, and it was official. The boys were officially Washingtons. The family of six couldn’t be happier.
Soon, life fell back into it’s steady pace. They followed their daily routine as usual. School, home, family outings, family movie nights, and repeat. (Name) and George received congratulations from friends, as did the boys in their classes.
Upon returning home from school one day, however, the family was met with an unpleasant sight from next door.
(Name) pulled into the driveway of her home, and George quickly got out of the van to meet with the two police officers who stood at the Burr’s front door. (Name) followed close behind her husband, telling their sons to stay in the car.
“Excuse me, can I ask what’s going on here?” George asked one of the officers as he approached.
The elder of the two police officers, a man, turned to see George approaching, (Name) following close behind him. “Can I ask what your relationship to the people who live in this house are, sir?”
“We’re the Burr’s neighbors, the Washingtons.” George answered, his brows furrowing. He turned to (Name), who matched his look of worry. “What’s this about? Did something happen?”
The younger of the two, a young woman let out a tired sigh. “We’re here to see if anyone was home… We’re sorry to inform you, but Aaron Burr Sr and his wife were involved in a fatal car accident on the highway today.” She explained, her expression grave and sad.
“No… What about Aaron Jr? The Burr’s son?” (Name) asked quickly, gripping onto her husband’s arm.
“He wasn’t anywhere to be found… We assumed he was still at school.” The female officer explained. She muttered under her breath. “God, that poor kid… He’s an orphan and he doesn’t even know it…”
(Name)’s brows furrowed, looking back at the van where her sons were watching the scene. “John! Did you see Aaron before we left?” She called to him.
“Uh… Yeah. He said he was going to the library to do homework while he waited for his parents.” John called back. “Mom? Is everything okay?
(Name) turned back to her husband and the officers. “We’ve known the Burrs since they moved in, we knew Aaron Jr since he was a baby… What’s going to happen to him?”
“Does he have any other living relatives?” Asked the elder of the two officers.
George shook his head. “The only family we knew were the parents. He did have a grandfather, but he died quite some time ago.”
“Since there isn’t any other living family… He’ll go into foster care, correct?” (Name) asked.
“Correct… You seem to know a lot about this kind of thing, Mrs. Washington… Would you two happen to be foster parents?” Asked the female officer, glancing over at the four boys that waited for their parents.
“We’re registered, but those are our sons. We adopted them.” George answered, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Would you two be willing to take in Aaron?” Asked the elder officer. “I know it seems sudden, but the boy needs to be kept somewhere safe where we can easily contact him.”
“Of course… We’ve known the Burrs for a long time. Aaron’s friends with all of our sons, he’s basically family already.” (Name) spoke, wiping the tears away from her eyes.
“Thank you.” The female officer spoke, giving (Name) a sympathetic smile. “Mr. Washington, do you think you could lead us to the school where Aaron is? We’re going to have to pick him up, and it might make things easier if we’re with someone he knows.”
George nodded in understanding. “Of course.” He looked at (Name), quickly pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be home soon… Tell the boys what’s going on. They’ll be able to relate to what Burr’s going through.”
“I will… Drive safe.” (Name) murmured in response, walking with her husband back to the van.
“What’s going on? Why were their cops at the Burr house?” Hercules asked his parents as George started up the van.
“You guys listen to your mother. I’ll be back soon.” George promised as he drove off, the police car followed behind in suit.
(Name) watched her husband drive off, trying to control her raging emotions. Aaron… He was so young to go through something like that… But then again, so were her own sons.
The mother jumped at the sudden call, looking down to see Alexander holding her hands, John standing at his side, Lafayette opposite him, and Hercules standing next to her.
“What happened?” Alexander asked, his brows furrowed in concern and worry. “Why did Dad just drive off with those police?”
(Name) let out a quiet sigh, squeezing Alexander’s hands with her own. “I’ll explain everything, boys… But let’s get inside.”
“Will this suit you for now, Aaron?” (Name) asked as she smoothed down the sheet on the couch, placing the blanket next to the pillow she had already placed down.
The boy nodded silently, sniffling slightly and rubbing his red eyes. “I-I’m sorry for all the trouble, Mrs. Washington… I could just stay in my own house to save you from the inconvenience.”
“Aaron, it’s not an inconvenience at all.” (Name) insisted, moving to stand next to Aaron. “George and I have known you since you were a baby. We were always happy to help your family… And we want to help now.”
The boy gave a silent nod, going to sit on the couch. After George had brought Aaon home, he helped the boy get some of the essentials from his house. All Aaron took was a change of clothes, and his toothbrush and toothpaste. His reasoning for packing so light: “I don’t want to overstay my welcome… It’s not my place to.”
(Name) watched Aaron for a moment, going over and sitting next to the boy on the plush couch. “Aaron… You know you can talk to any of us about this.” She said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
He nodded slowly, but didn’t speak.
“… The guys will be glad to talk with you about what happened… They know what you’re going through.”
(Name) raised a brow. “Yes?”
“How could anyone be that cruel?” Aaron murmured, his gaze focused on the ground.
“The officers said it was a hit and run, that when they hit my parents they were run off the road… The driver who hit my parents just drove on by like nothing had happened. How could they just not care that they could’ve just ended someone’s life? Two lives? Maybe a whole car for God’s sake!”
(Name) saw angry tears slip down Aaron’s cheeks. She wrapped her arms around the boy, pulling him close. “I don’t know… But Aaron, I promise you… The police will find the person who did this. They’re going to pay for what happened.”
Aaron didn’t respond, he just gripped onto (Name)’s arm tightly as he grit his teeth to keep his sobs from escaping him. She could feel his shoulders shake as he cried, but she simply rubbed his back in hopes to soothe the boy.
After what could have been an hour, (Name) noticed Aaron’s breathing had evened out to a slow and steady pace. Carefully moving off the couch, she placed the blanket over the boy and left the room, rubbing her forehead as she walked down the hall.
(Name) turned to see that her sons were still awake. Lafayette was sitting on the floor reading, Alexander was on his bed writing something down, John was leaning against Alexander as he sketched something, and Hercules was stretched out in his bed reading a magazine.
“Hey,” (Name) said with a weary smile, leaning against the door frame. “I figured you boys would probably be asleep by now.”
“Kinda hard to sleep when you know one of your friends lost his parents.” John spoke, putting down his sketch pad.
“How’s Aaron doing?” Hercules asked, sitting up.
(Name) sighed, shaking her head. “He’s angry, sad, confused… All that you would expect.” She spoke.
“I know how that feels.” Alexander muttered, putting down his pencil.
The mother sent Alexander a sympathetic smile, looking over all of her sons. “… Can you boys look out for Aaron? I know it’s a lot to ask, but he could really use support from people who know what he’s going through.”
“Of course.” Lafayette spoke.
“Aaron’s our friend… Heck, he might as well be another brother considering how much time we spend with him.” John agreed.
“We promise, Mom. We’ll help him out.” Hercules affirmed.
(Name) smiled at her boys, nodding. “Thank you.” She said, walking into the room and giving each of her sons a kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight, boys.”
(Name) smiled at her sons, leaving their room to join her husband. It wasn’t surprising to see George was reading one of his wife’s many books. She sighed, sitting down on the bed and catching her husband’s attention.
“Asleep… George, the poor kid cried himself to sleep.” She answered sadly, feeling George wrap an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.
“I’m sorry, love… That couldn’t have been easy.” George murmured as he pressed a kiss to his wife’s head.
“It wasn’t.” (Name) answered, leaning against her husband’s shoulder. “George… What if we just saved Aaron from going through the process of being put into the system?”
“What do you mean by that?” Inquired the veteran as he closed his book.
“I mean,” She turned to face her husband. “What if we just get the adoption papers ready? I mean, we’ll give him time to grieve, and maybe after the funeral we can ask how he would feel about being a part of our family.” She explained.
George quirked a brow at his wife, chuckling softly as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “(Name), you are a saint… But we’ll have to see what Aaron thinks about this plan. In the end, it’s all up to him what he wants to do.”
(Name) nodded, smiling up at her husband. “I talked with the boys. They said they would help look out for Aaron.”
“Good… Alexander will probably be able to relate most, but having the four of them there to help Aaron through this will be good for them.” George spoke, gently taking (Name)’s hand into his. “We’ll help him get through this, (Name)… Aaron and Esther would want that.”
The wife gave her husband a sad smile, nodding in agreement. “I know.” She murmured quietly, bringing her husband’s hand to her lips and kissing his wedding ring. “I love you, George.”
“I love you too.”
“You want to what?”
(Name) and George sat at the dining room table across from Aaron, the white adoption form sitting in front of the boy.
The funeral was earlier that day. Many friends came to offer their condolences, Aaron was quiet throughout the entire service, aside from thanking Philip Schuyler for paying for the whole ordeal. Upon returning from the cemetery, the Washingtons had sent their sons to the Schuyler residence so they could speak with Aaron privately.
“We want to offer you a place here, Aaron. As a family.” (Name) explained.
“Mrs. Washington, I really don’t want to burden you and your husband more than I have already.” Aaron spoke quickly.
“It isn’t a burden if we’re asking, Aaron.” George explained carefully.
The boy shook his head. “I can’t accept. Mr. Schuyler already paid for the funeral service, I can’t impose-”
“You aren’t imposing.” (Name) said, almost sternly. “Aaron, you never imposed on us whenever you were younger. We were all too happy to help out your parents when they needed someone to watch you.”
“You shouldn’t feel obligated to look after someone else’s kid.” Aaron muttered.
(Name) opened her mouth to respond, but George squeezed her hand and stopped her. She looked over at her husband, but let out a sigh. “Aaron… Think about it, please.” She said to the boy, sending a smile his way.
Aaron nodded slowly, standing from the table and taking the adoption form with him as he left to return to the living room.
The woman sighed, dropping her head. “If that boy inherited something from his father, it was certainly his stubbornness. And I say that in complete admiration.”
“And his mother’s genius mind.” George agreed, rubbing his wife’s back. “Don’t worry… We said we would give him time. We’re going to give him time.”
(Name) nodded. “Well, the boys should be back from the Schuyler’s soon. I can get started on dinner if you do laundry.”
George pressed a kiss to his wife’s head. “I think I can do that. Have John and Herc been keeping up with it?”
“From the last time I saw. They might not have emptied the dryer though.” (Name) answered as she stood and walked to the kitchen.
The veteran nodded in understanding as he stood. “Alright. Call me if you need something.”
“I’ll be sure to.” (Name) answered, leaning back and pressing a kiss to her husband’s cheek. “Love you.”
“Love you back.” He replied before walking away from his wife.
With that, (Name) began to fix something that she knew would brighten everyone’s moods. Her famous spaghetti. The boys always enjoyed it, George could live off it as he had claimed, so she had hoped that Aaron would enjoy it.
As she cooked, (Name) heard the door open, signaling that the boys were back from visiting the Schuyler’s. She could vaguely hear their conversations, but she kept her attention to cooking the ground beef. She moved to pull a flat strainer and a bowl to train the grease from the beef. Carefully she began to pour the boiling grease into the bowl.
“Is that what I think it is? That they’re fulfilling some stupid obligation?”
Alexander? (Name)’s brows furrowed in confusion, was it her or did Alexander sound irritated?
“They’re taking care of you because they want to. They see you as family for God’s sake, so do we!”
John? For what reason did he have to raise his voice?
“Mon ami, excuse me while I say this, but vous êtes un imbécile.”
Lafayette too? Something had to have set off the sweet French kid to get him to call someone a fool.
There was quite for a moment before (Name) heard an explosive yell.
“How much of an inconsiderate jackass are you!?” Hercules bellowed.
The yell caused (Name)’s grip to slip and some of the hot grease she was pouring to splash onto her hand and arm. The woman let out a curse as she put the skillet down on the stove. She heard yelling continue and tried to move as quickly as she could, but her husband’s voice was quick to silence the arguing.
“What is the meaning of this!?” George questioned sternly, the volume of his voice louder than usual.
(Name) moved to stand next to her husband, seeing that Hercules was standing over Aaron, the oldest of her sons looking rather angry.
“What happened?” (Name) asked, shaking her burned hand to get rid of the sting.
“Burr doesn’t realizing how good he’s had it until now.” Hercules answered, his hands clenched into fists.
Aaron glared at the older teen. “You know what Mulligan?”
“No! Obviously I don’t!” Hercules yelled. His voice caused Aaron to flinch, and tempted George to step in and intervene, but (Name) stopped her husband. “I didn’t get to grow up in a nice house with my parents for most of my childhood! I didn’t get to enjoy a home cooked meal every single day!” Hercules ranted, moving forward to grab Aaron, but was held back by his brothers.
“Herc! Chill!” John exclaimed.
However, Hercules continued. “We didn’t get holidays, we didn’t get nice rooms to sleep in, sometimes we didn’t even get enough for all of us to eat!”
(Name) listened to Hercules rant on, feeling her chest tighten as he listed off how bad he and his brothers had it. She knew that there were some foster families that just had no business being in the system, and the mere thought of her boys living in those conditions scared the life out of her.
“So yeah, getting through loss is rough, we all know that, but you are outright getting an offer to stay with probably one of the best families there is!” He paused, exhaling before speaking at a normal volume. “But don’t throw away your shot at being happy with a great family who already sees who as a member of it.”
(Name) could tell that Hercules was calming down, so she moved to stand next to her oldest son, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Hercules… Come help me in the kitchen.” She told him softly before leading him away from the younger boys.
Upon passing George, (Name) gave her husband a patient smile, giving his hand a squeeze before heading into the kitchen with Hercules.
“Now, you wanna tell me what that was about?” (Name) asked as she turned on the cold water to cool down her burn.
Hercules huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Aaron… We came in from visiting the girls and he asked if we thought you and Dad offered to adopt him because you thought you had to. Like it was your ‘obligatory duty to his parents’ or something.”
“And?” (Name) questioned, looking over her shoulder.
“We… Might have gotten a little angry.” Hercules answered.
“I could tell, seeing as it takes a lot to make Laf call someone a fool.” (Name) chuckled, turning off the water and turning to Hercules. She could tell that he was starting to feel guilty about yelling at Aaron.
“I’m sorry I kinda of lost it like that, Mom.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
(Name) walked over and stood next to her son, leaning against the counter with him. “I would have expected the loosing of the temper being John… But I can understand why you blew up like that.”
“He just doesn’t get how good he has it, Mom. We waited years, years to find you and Dad, and he’s getting an offer just like that so he doesn’t even have to go through the system.” Hercules let out a dry laugh. “And he just thinks it’s some obligation you and Dad are trying to fill.”
The woman sighed, nodding in agreement. “I know… I wish he could see differently. Aaron, the girls, your father and I have known them all since they were born, and we were more than happy to take care of them whenever their parents needed us too… Now that Aaron’s parents are gone, George and I want to ensure he’s taken care of, and that he’ll be happy.” She moved an arm and wrapped it around Hercules’ broad shoulders. “That sound familiar to you?”
She heard Hercules huff a laugh. “Yeah… I’m sorry, Mom.”
“I know.” She replied, giving her son’s shoulder a squeeze. “You will have to apologize to Aaron before dinner.”
He nodded. “Yeah… Figured.”
(Name) gave her son a smile. “Well, now that you’re here and seeing that your yelling managed to get me to burn my hand, you’re gonna help me finish dinner.”
“You sure you don’t want Laf to help with that?” He asked.
“Hercules, you’re a sophomore, you need to know how to make spaghetti.” (Name) laughed as she led her son to the stove.
“Um… Mrs. Washington? Hercules?”
The two turned from the stove to see Aaron standing in the doorway with George standing behind him.
“Everything okay?” (Name) asked as she turned to face the two.
Aaron met the woman’s gaze and began speaking. “I want to apologize for what I said… I really am lucky to have people so ready to take me in… So, if the offer is still on the table, I would like to take you up on it.” He looked over at Hercules, then averted his gaze. “If you’ll accept me…”
(Name) looked over at Hercules, looking baffled at the question. She gently nudged her son forward with her arm, smiling as he went forward to speak.
“There wasn’t ever going to be the question if we were gonna accept you or not. It depended on when you were gonna accept.” Hercules spoke, offering a small smile to the younger teen. “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have blown up like that.”
“You had reason to.” Aaron replied. “But, it’s okay.” He held a hand out to Hercules, returning the smile. “Shall we put this behind us?”
“Put what behind us?” Hercules inquired with a grin playing his lips as he shook Aaron’s outstretched hand.
(Name) smiled as she watched the scene unfold in front of her, moving to look at her husband who stepped around the boys. George walked over to his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “So, shall I give Nicole a call?”
“After dinner. We’re also gonna have to think about renovating that spare room next to my office.” (Name) said, smiling up at her husband.
“Ma famille! Dinner’s ready!”
(Name) looked up from grading French exams and let out a sigh of relief. She stood from her chair, chuckling softly at the sound of running feet rushing to the kitchen and a chorus of exclamations from the dining room. She heard a sigh, looking over at Aaron who was returning a couple of her books.
“Honestly, they act like they’ll never eat again.” He muttered, looking over at (Name). “But seeing as it’s Lafayette’s cooking, I can understand the excitement.”
“You and the rest of the family.” (Name) spoke, putting a hand on Aaron’s shoulder to walk with him into the hall. “You’ve gotten taller… Christ, I’m gonna be the shortest person in the house soon.”
“Not entirely. John and Alexander are still your height.” Aaron answered, a small smile playing his lips
The woman let out a laugh. “Don’t say that to their faces.”
It was still hard to believe that her boys were all growing up. Hercules was a senior and waiting to hear back from colleges, John and Aaron were sophomores, Lafayette and Alexander had even managed to get their grades high enough and show enough promise to skip a grade and move up with John and Aaron into the sophomore class.
Upon entering the dining room, Lafayette stood leaning against the counter while John and Alexander moved quickly past each other with plates and utensils. (Name) chuckled at her boys, remembering that they were still like the boys that had first moved in with her and her husband. Except now, Lafayette’s face had begun to grow scruff that he kept trimmed, his wild head of hair usually kept back in a ponytail. John’s hair had also grown out, and he tended to keep it out of his face by tying it up in a ponytail, Alexander was the same way as his black hair grew out to his shoulders.
She certainly was glad that the school didn’t have strict rules for the high school students when it came to appearances.
“You wouldn’t be rushing if someone had put down what they were doing to help me.” Lafayette sighed, watching as John and Alexander set seven places.
“I was writing a paper!”
“I was organizing a portfolio!”
(Name) chuckled at her sons, looking into the living room. “Is your father still outside?” She called to the teens.
“Oui, Hercules just went to get him.” Lafayette answered.
(Name) sighed. “I swear if he gets himself sick…”
The front door opened and the father of the house came inside with the eldest son, both bundled up with thick jackets.
“Driveway isn’t going to clear itself, love.” George told (Name) as he unzipped his coat and took it off. “Besides, someone had to get the mail.”
(Name)’s expression changed to one of surprise. “Did it come?”
Hercules smiled nervously, holding an envelope. “Right here… Columbia University.”
“Hurry up and open the thing!” Alexander exclaimed, grinning at his older brother.
Hercules nodded, turning the envelope in his hands and tearing it open. He pulled out the letter, inhaling sharply as he unfolded the paper. The rest of the family waited in the strained silence, all hoping for the best.
“… Well?” John asked.
Hercules’ eyes flicked from the letter to his family, his nervous smile melting away into an excited grin. “I got in.”
And thus the cheering and celebrating insued. (Name) and George gave their son a hug of congratulations. Hercules took the congratulatory high-fives, fits bumps, and noogies from all of his brothers, which (Name) was glad to see now included Aaron.
“Alright, this calls for a picture.” (Name) spoke as she went to her office to get her phone.
“Aw Mom, really?” Hercules groaned, a smile still brightening his face.
“Yes really!” She called back, grabbing the device and returning to the kitchen.
George chuckled, corralling all the boys in front. “Indulge her, boys.”
(Name) smiled at the screen, watching as Lafayette and Alex stood on Hercules’ left, while John and Aaron were on his right. She took the picture, looking over her shoulder at George who watched. She pressed a kiss to her husband’s cheek before setting her phone down. “Alright. Laf, you and I serve. The rest of you guys take your seats.”
Walking over to join Lafaytte, (Name) sighed to see that her growing Frenchman was just a few inches over her. “You boys are growing up.” She muttered with a smile on her face.
“And we’ve had the best parents to help us do that, Maman.” Lafayette chuckled, picking up the platter of Sole Meunière and pressing a kiss to his mother’s temple. (Name) followed in suit with the rest of the meal, helping dish out and serve the rest of her family.
Once everyone was served, (Name) took her regular seat at the table. Looking to her right, she smiled at her oldest son who sat next to her. “I’m really proud of you, Hercules.” She told her oldest son, moving a hand to his shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
“Thanks, Mom… I owe this to you and Dad… And the guys of course.” He laughed, nudging Alexander next to him.
“Well, you did need someone to tell you to quit looking at girls and start looking at colleges.” Alexander said matter-of-factly as he sipped at his drink.
(Name) chuckled. She looked over at John who suddenly stood, holding his cup.
“Alright, alright. I say that we raise a glass.” He said with a grin, despite his brothers groaning.
“John, oh my God.” Alexander laughed.
“Mon frère, tais-toi.” Lafayette advised from next to John, a grin present on his face..
“The food is on the table, can we just eat it?” Aaron agreed, shaking his head as quiet laughter bubbled from him.
John mocked hurt by putting a hand to his chest. “I am utterly shocked that my fellow brothers are refusing to raise a glass to our oldest brother.”
“John…” Hercules couldn’t help but laugh as he hid his face in his hand.
(Name) couldn’t help the laugh that fell from her lips. “Let’s just go ahead.” She spoke, picking up her own glass. “It isn’t everyday that a young man gets accepted to the University of Columbia.”
“Agreed.” George spoke from the other side of the table as he picked up his cup. The boys followed in suit.
John cleared his throat. “To Hercules, he’s made a lot a choices, some haven’t been the best,”
“Hey.” Hercules warned.
“But he’s taking a big step that soon enough we’re gonna be taking as well. So, to us, to family, and to the future!” John cheered.
“Here here.” (Name) affirmed, smiling as she raised her glass, the rest of the family following in suit.
Dinner went on as usual. (Name) and George told the boys to go to the living room to pick a movie for a celebratory movie night while the parents cleaned up. With little to no protests, the teens left for the living room, leaving the husband and wife to gather dishes.
As George picked up his glass and plate, (Name) nudge his side to get his attention. “To our boys,” She spoke, raising the remainder of her drink. “And to the hopes that their futures become all that they want to be.”
George chuckled at his wife, gently clinking his glass with hers. “To that and more so.” He agreed, leaning forward and pressing his lips to (Name)’s. As he pulled away, he smiled at her. “I love you, and our sons.”
“I love you too.” (Name) answered, putting her dishes in the sink and listening to the movie debate in the living room. “And I love them… All of our boys.”
“Yeah, sure. Love you too.” You
hung up your phone and stared at it in disbelief. Your mom hadn’t been that
good at convincing you to do things when you’d lived at home, had she?
Dean walked into the library and
took once glance at you—sitting on the table with your feet in the chair—and
grinned. “Talked to your mom recently?”
“Shut up, Winchester.” Dean always
teased you that you only sat on the table when you talked to your mom just
because you hadn’t been allowed to at home. He was wrong, of course. Your
parents had been artists and were a bit eccentric. You could remember all three
of you making a tent by putting blankets over your table and eating on the
floor. You constantly walked home from school to see your father standing on
top of the table, trying to pin something to the ceiling. No, sitting on a
table was pretty normal for your family.
I laid on my back with the intention of getting back into my ab workout routine, and Mochi immediately started getting all up in my grill! She is now laying across my nonexistent abs and purring. Will I never become Strong
Honestly on the note of that post about media I really wish people got there’s the difference between disappointment and hatred. And certainly this goes further than just media.
As is I’ve had issues with people in fandoms getting up in my grill because I criticized their behavior while playing the world’s smallest violin acting like acknowledging their failures to any capacity was the same as calling them a terrible person. We have a problem in fandom culture that even humans that claim they want to be seen a 3 dimensional actually believe that means never bringing any public attention at all to their numerous flaws. In reality just like the media they overprotectively consume they want it to be treated as perfect because anything less means to be valueless garbage or potentially detrimental in very existence.
Basically the way we prevent a culture of “it perfect or absolute shit” is by allowing grey areas to exist at all; to allow people to evaluate exactly how good and bad things are and acknowledge their flaws while still praising what they do well. The only way we can create this culture is by not taking criticism personally in the first place or framing any and all criticism that isn’t overly kind as being automatically “hateful” in its tone. In short we have to start looking at the how and why people criticize things instead of instantly assuming that criticism is (in)valid.
Here’s this way too long and messy thing I started a few days ago based on the idea of Golisopod and Wimpod teaming up to tickle the heck out of Guzma. Hope you like it!
“Wimpod, use Scald already! Smash that target!”
Guzma was on the edge of his already permanently frayed rope. That self-righteous little trainer had thrashed him again this morning. He’d been so frustrated that even breaking three chairs and a window hadn’t been enough to cool him down. He’d thought maybe he could get into the zone again by training one of Team Skull’s new Wimpods, but he was failing at even that.
The Wimpod was currently frozen and trembling before the large stuffed Fearow figure in the middle of Guzma’s room. The figure was a gift from his Grunts; handmade just for their awesome boss to train his awesome bug Pokémon with. And yet here it was, completely undamaged, because he couldn’t even get this Wimpod to take a step forward.
Guzma scrubbed a hand through his white hair and clenched his jaw, swallowing down a feeling of inadequacy. “Tch, it’s not even a real Fearow. How can you be part of the Big Bad Guzma’s crew if you can’t even fight a toy?”
Wimpod made a dejected sound and scurried back, its antennae drooping. Guzma’s Golisopod looked up from the berry it was scarfing nearby to whirr disapprovingly at its master again. Usually Guzma had so much more patience with his Pokémon, but he couldn’t think past his frustration right now.
“I already told you to stay outta this,” Guzma snapped at his ace Pokémon. “How’s it ever gonna get strong like you if I’m too soft on it?”
Ignoring Golisopod’s irritated clicks, Guzma turned back to the Wimpod and let all over six feet of him loom over the wide-eyed little bug. “You gotta learn how to beat others down or they beat you down, get it?” He gestured wildly with his arms, his voice getting louder with every word. “That means stop wimping out and start acting like destruction in Pokémon for—“
Golisopod was suddenly behind Guzma, a large, clawed mitt catching his arm and pulling him backwards until he fell on his butt with a grunt. He cursed as the Pokémon caught his other arm too, easily pinning it to the floor above his head. How did a giant armored samurai bug manage to get the jump on him?
“The hell do you think you’re playing at!?” Guzma growled, struggling to pull his arms from the strong hold. “Lemme go!”
Golisopod made no move to release him, and instead started purring and clicking at the sulking Wimpod. Guzma had no clue what the heck he was saying, but whatever it was had the Wimpod perking up curiously. The little bug was still for a moment, then cautiously scurried over at Golisopod’s insistence. It hesitated next to Guzma’s leg, but eventually wiggled its way up onto his hip and stared into his face.
“Oh, so now you’re fronting like a tough guy, huh? Getting all up in my grill?” Guzma mocked. Wimpod paused again and looked to Golisopod with a questioning purr. When the bigger bug nodded, it gave a determined hiss and promptly wiggled its way under Guzma’s baggy t-shirt.
Guzma squirmed and frowned at the lump in his shirt. What was this little punk trying to do anywa—no no no NO! He gasped and bucked as little legs purposefully scuttled along his belly, the sensation horribly ticklish. He gritted his teeth against the embarrassing noise that threatened to escape him, lips turning up into an unwilling smile.
“Get out!” He yelped. He kicked his legs, but his muscles were already going to jelly from the feeling crawling up his stomach. Wimpod’s little legs skittered gently along one of his sides too, and that was all it took. Guzma broke down into wild, raspy laughter, wiggling on the floor like a kid. He pulled desperately at his arms, but Golisopod’s grip held strong.
“Stopstopstop!” He nearly shrieked. “I-I’m your master! You g-gotta listEN to me!”
Golisopod’s only answer was a staccato whirr that sounded almost like a laugh. Wimpod hissed happily and started focusing on his ribs, poking curiously at the spaces between the bones. The Big Bad Guzma definitely did not squeal at that and try to curl in on himself.
“I s-swear I’ll put you both up…up against a bird Pokémon!” Guzma threatened, breathless and unintimidating from peals of laughter. “An electric one, y-you shits!”
Golisopod made no move to let him go and Wimpod’s legs and antennae continued their torturous journey under his shirt. It seemed to be figuring out which spots made Guzma thrash the most and was staying on them. Guzma tossed his head from side to side, his shades flying off during a fit of what he’d never admit were giggles.
He was about to give in and beg his Pokémon when a deep feminine chuckle echoed through the room. Golisopod gave a greeting click and Guzma looked through tear-filled eyes at the doorway. Plumeria was leaning against it, a manicured brow arched and a small smile on her lips. Of course she came to check on all of the noise—right when it was the most embarrassing.
“You good there, boss?” the Team Skull Admin asked. Guzma could just hear the smirk in her voice, damn her. But he wasn’t in a position to turn her away.
“Plumes! C’mon, h-help your boy oUT-!” His plea ended in a yelp and a jerk as a little leg wiggled along a particularly bad spot just under his ribs.
“I could help,” Plumeria drawled, casually inspecting her nails. “But what’ll you give me if I do?”
Guzma was really starting to regret starting a team of greedy misfits. “A g-good, solid kick in th—“
His threat was cut off as two of Wimpod’s legs skittered under his arm. Guzma gasped and collapsed into near-silent laughter, his legs drumming uselessly on the floor.
Plumeria was all out grinning now, sashaying closer to the mush on the ground that was her boss. “Reconsidering now, huh? Tell you what, I’ll get them to stop if you buy me Malasada. The sweet ones,” she demanded. “And I get to sit in your chair whenever I want for a week.”
Guzma had never nodded so fast in his life. He’d get her back for this later, but right now she was his only hope. Plumeria hummed, clearly proud of her victory, and patted Golisopod’s closest arm.
“Alright, alright, don’t kill him,” she joked. “We still need this numskull to lead the team.” Golisopod purred happily at her and finally released Guzma’s wrists. Wimpod got the memo too, wriggling backwards and out of Guzma’s shirt. Still snickering, Guzma curled his arms around his waist and rolled onto his side to catch his breath.
When he finally sat up, hair hopelessly mussed and cheeks still flushed red, Golisopod was across the room and happily accepting a Poké Bean from an equally traitorous Plumeria (who was already chilling in his chair). Wimpod, however, was sitting right next to him, looking ridiculously proud of itself. Any fear seemed to have flown entirely out of the window, even with the Fearow figure still nearby.
Guzma thought he should probably be angry again, but he was feeling bizarrely relaxed after all of that laughing. Besides, Wimpod did stand up for itself like he’d wanted. He put his large hand over the bug’s entire face and shoved it playfully.
“Yeah, yeah, you won. Now stop giving me that smug ass look,” he grumbled, failing to fight a smile. “And you ain’t keeping ‘Tickle’ as one of your moves. That’s not hardcore enough for Team Skull, got it?”
The little Pokémon wiggled out from under Guzma’s hand and chirped defiantly; the closest a Wimpod could get to a true Team Skull ‘no!’
Yes. It’s more about the super spoopy Ghost music video. By this point, you’ve either watched it, or you’re tired of reading what I have to say about it. Or both. Sorry, I get hung up on stuff sometimes.
But I keep coming back around to (what I think is) an interesting topic of discussion this video brings up about storytelling in general: Does it matter that this is a Scooby Doo homage? Are the similar characters necessary? And are there other examples of this kind of character-borrowing?
This is a thought that my lovely Mie hit me with immediately after watching, and that my good friend John also jumped on, albeit from a completely different direction. More rambling below the cut. (I think I’ve officially got this out of my system now, too, so don’t worry about seeing too much more from me about Scooby Doo. What has my life come to.)
HELLO, MY LOYAL FANS AND FOLLOWERS. TODAY. I AM GOING TO BE PLAYING A GAME FOR YOU. AND THEN CHRONICLING MY EXPERIENCE. IN TEXTUAL FORMAT. WITH PICTURES AND STUFF. THIS WILL BE AMUSING FOR YOU. AND A TRIUMPH OF INTERNET REVIEWERSHIP. AND ARTISTRY. FOR ME. SO WRAP YOURSELF IN THE MOVING METAL SECURITY STRAP THING. WE’RE DIVING RIGHT INTO THIS.