Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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?

Chapter Text

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."

Yanberry clearly adored his room, running immediately to the spacious (for a bitty) closet. Yanberry also praised the bitty-sized fashion posters I'd made for him using an unnecessary amount of profanity. Since bittys don't have money, a swear jar wouldn't work, so I settled for a stern reminder to keep the swearing to a minimum before placing Buttons in Yanberry's room. As I hoped, they quickly began discussing the posters, pointing out colors and styles they preferred and whispering excitedly about cute outfit ideas. 

With four out of my seven bitty boys enjoying their new rooms, I turned my attention to my trio of troublemakers. As I suspected, Red and Brassyberry had cornered an unimpressed Phantom for some attempted intimidation. I cleared my throat, and the little jelly beans (i am what i eat) jumped. Not that they bothered to look embarrassed (we weren't) at being caught posturing. The posturing didn't work as well as they hoped either because of Phantom's superior height.

(size ain't everything!)

I reminded Red that he had an entire bitty house of his own which calmed him a bit. I pointed out to Brassberry that as appointed alpha of the new bittys, he got to occupy the master suite of the main bitty house. The title appeased him since his bitty type thrives in a leadership role, but he and Red still grumbled and glared at the very concept of Phantom's presence in what they considered to be their home (and near our momma!).

When bedtime rolled around, it presented its own exasperating problems which also somehow managed to revolve around Red, Brassy, and their dislike of Phantom. 

Bathing seven bittybones is quite a feat, especially when so many of them demand special attention that they don't actually need. 

(i do need it!) 

I got Buttons and Yanberry set up in a nice bubble bath on the shelf next to the sink, and they dutifully washed themselves with only an acceptable amount of water being sloshed out of their bitty bathtub while they played. Corvus splashed around in a shallow bath on one side of the bathroom vanity counter, fluffing his feathers and wiggling to throw water over himself like a bird in a birdbath. He insisted on grooming Softy who dozed off while the winged bitty scrubbed him. 

That just left Red, Brassy, and Phantom…

It sure would be nice to possess a bitty with even an iota of shame (would it though?). By the time my cooperative bittys were sudsing it up in their own individual baths, my remaining bittys had discarded every article of their clothing across the bathroom like some sort of laundromat explosion and were having a very inappropriate competition (I won)(i won).

Yanberry got an eyeful before I could block the bitty-penis (nothin' bitty about my penis!) parade and decided to join in. Corvus hopped out of his bath in a rush to cover Buttons' eyes, unintentionally exposing his bare bones as well and leaving a sleeping Softy to flop face down in the thankfully shallow bath water. I fished Softy out of the water, also devoid of clothing. My bathroom had become a bittybones nudist colony in record time.

(you're welcome)

I noticed my Kara bitty's eagerness to care for others right away and assigned him the task of drying and dressing Yanberry, Buttons, and his improvised egg. Corvus corralled his fellow bittys with ease, kooing softly and using a firm but gentle tone to keep the three on track. Softbones rolled around on the towel briefly then went back to sleep, so Corvus enlisted the other two to help get pajamas on him.

I leveled a stern glare at the remaining bittys. They stared back innocently (Brassberry), proudly (Red), and sheepishly (Phantom). I delivered my verdict in a no-nonsense tone.

"If you three can't behave at bathtime, then you don't get to have the same luxuries as well-behaved bittys. No bubbles. No toys. No special attention."

Each of the boys got a dunking, a rough scrub with the textured finger brush, and a vigorous towel dry before having their pajamas tugged onto them. Somehow Red still managed to douse me with a sinkful of soapy water, so I only gave Brassy a quick bandage change then gathered everyone up for bedtime, closing the door on the mess in the bathroom to be ignored until tomorrow. 

In a continuation of the bathtime punishment, Red, Brassy, and Phantom were relegated to their rooms instead of being allowed on the bed (boo)(Cruel and unusual punishment). Yanberry happily snuggled down in his comfy bed, and Buttons opted to join Corvus' giant nest pile with Softy. Corvus welcomed him with a happy "koo~" as I switched off the lights and crawled into my own bed.

I tossed and turned throughout the night and barely slept thanks to my restlessness. I eventually woke up to a pouting Brassberry, an apologetic Phantom, and every single item from Red's bitty house strewn across the floor. Not much furniture survived Red's wrath (i'm thorough), but Barfington Bear escaped unscathed as usual. He's a trooper.

After surveying the damage created by my one-bitty wrecking crew, I moved over to the main bitty house. I'd already seen Brassy and Phantom awake and shuffling around, but I hadn't heard a peep from Buttons all night. I wanted to check on him. I gave drowsy little Yanberry a pat, and he yawned in response. Curious, I peered into the crowded room that technically belonged to Softy.

Corvus greeted me with a smile, lifting his wing to show the most adorable sight my eyes could behold. Buttons and Softy were fast asleep, cuddled together on the nest Corvus had built for them. Corvus confirmed my suspicions with quiet nods. Buttons had slept peacefully the entire night with no nightmares or panic attacks.

This might all actually work!

Chapter Text

I hopped out of bed the next morning with all the vigor of a person who has just woken up and hasn't yet had a chance for circumstance (such as the chaos of getting seven bittys dressed for the day) to crush all of their energy and motivation. That vigor diminished when Red and Brassy both decided to protest pants for some reason (viva la nudity!), and Berry the Yanberry rolled out of bed spewing a string of, admittedly impressive, swear words and phrases. The potty-mouthed bastard could probably beat me at Scrabble without using a single appropriate word.

Triple points if I say “oh my God” while looking the term up on Urban Dictionary, and no, I'm not going to ask him to use it in a sentence.

Fortunately, my miniscule assistant, Corvus the Kara bitty, had a handle on his adopted nestlings. He and Buttons were fully dressed though the newly named Egg the Softbones still wore his comfy pajamas, which was par for the course with his bitty type. Phantom had picked out an outfit for himself though he noticeably lacked a shirt and obviously thought the look suited him. Of course a grumpy Brassy and still-pantsless Red heckled him to "put some damn clothes on.” (fuckin’ showoff)

It felt like time to accept that “good enough” would be my mantra from now on if I wanted to get anything done. I escorted my bitty brigade into the kitchen for breakfast where I discovered round 2 of energy-sapping problems. Buttons already had a specific dietary guideline: no meat, and Red still maintained his allergy to shrimp as long as they weren't shrimp from my plate (it's a fickle allergy). Would my new bittys have special dietary requests too?

First, I divided the seven boys into herbivores and carnivores. Kara kooed that he would join Buttons as a vegetarian, and Egg the Softbones gave a thumbs-up of agreement from where he dozed facedown on the counter when Kara prompted him. Berry and Phantom opted to participate in the mysterious Meat Club (you're not supposed to talk about it)(And that shirtless asshole ain't invited!) that Red and Brassy had started. Being the sweetheart that he is, Buttons suggested that the vegetarians eat in the living room so that us carnivores weren't relegated to the “garage of shame” (bold of him to assume that i feel shame).

Next, I asked Corvus if he minded eating eggs since I planned to make a vegetable omelet for breakfast. I worried that he might find egg consumption offensive considering his bird-like appearance. Instead, he kooed out a laugh and ruffled his wing feathers. Apparently my question amused him, but he reassured me that eggs were fine with him. I took it as a good sign that we'd all be eating breakfast together and got the entire crew gathered at the table so I could start cooking.

Omelets don't take long to make, even if I needed to chop a few mushrooms, peppers, and onions. Even that short amount of time was far too long for me to expect my bitty boys to behave themselves.

The problem started when Phantom made a flirty comment while I prepped ingredients. A scuffle ensued, but by the time I turned to scold my bittys at knifepoint, they stared back at me with perfect innocence and strangely disheveled clothing (he started it)(Nothing happened). This weird occurrence kept weirdly occurring every few seconds until I plopped a warm, fluffy omelet onto the table and began portioning tiny servings onto bitty-sized plates. Seven teensy skeletons settled down to their meals.

The reactions varied. Kara kooed happily, and Egg actually sat up to eat. Buttons declared the food to be delicious, a sentiment that Berry echoed with an unnecessary amount of expletives that had probably never been used to describe an omelet before. Brassy shoveled down his plateful so fast that I doubted he tasted it at all, but he opened his mouth to comment anyway only to be interrupted by Phantom tossing another flirtatious compliment my way. 

There was a single beat of silence.

Then breakfast devolved into pandemonium.

Corvus escorted Egg, Buttons, and Berry away from the explosive fray, each bitty taking his breakfast with him. Red had double handfuls of omelet and appeared to be trying to shove them into Phantom's eye sockets (yup). Phantom easily fended him off with his superior reach, though Brassy threw him off balance with a wild leg tackle. Pieces of omelet flew everywhere as I separated the three bittys who stubbornly continued to throw both insults and breakfast at each other.

I grounded Red (unfair) and Brassy (We were defending your honor!) to their respective bitty houses. Phantom, Corvus, Egg, Buttons, and Berry were relocated to the living room to finish their breakfast in front of the TV. I turned on a reality show to drown out Red's enraged (rightfully!) screeching and the sound of him slamming around anything he could find that he hadn't already destroyed, which turned out to be not much after last night's destructive tantrum.

I cleaned up the kitchen table then brought my own meal into the living room. I spent more time pondering than eating, and by the time I figured out a solution to the jealousy conundrum, my once steaming eggs had become cold gelatinous blobs on my plate. I refused to get rid of Phantom (boo), but I knew a surefire way to make Red and Brassy behave:

Bribery.

(i can be bought)

I am definitely not above bribing my bittybones for a little peace and quiet. It's time to implement Good Boy Points!

Chapter Text

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)

Chapter Text

The Good Boy Points yielded mixed but expected results. Corvus the Kara bitty, Egg the Softbones, Buttons, and Phantom racked up the Points like famous sports athletes playing the sport that they are famous athletes for (that was terrible). Berry the Profanity Machine, Red the Destroyer, and Brassyberry the Pervert failed to earn the Good Boy Points like I fail to make good sports analogies (hey we're not that bad). I had to start awarding the Points on a curve or poor Red wouldn't have any G except the stolen ones (hey!), which I allowed the thieving duo to keep.

Today, I stopped by Gigi's bitty shop to pick up items that Phantom and Berry the Yanberry had chosen to redeem their Good Boy Points for: cigarettes for Phantom, with the promise that I would leave a window cracked open so he could smoke them and some bitty-sized art supplies for Berry to express his creativity in a way that isn't swearing… not that it stopped him from swearing. My other bitties wandered around the shop, browsing while Gigi and Buttons chatted, but none of them found anything to spend their G on. I also had to stop Red from shoplifting (buying on credit!) several times.

Next we made a stop at one of those scented lotion stores. I wanted some fancy body wash and lotion, and Corvus became interested in the bubble bath selection. Red, perched on my shoulder in his appointed position of seeing-eye bitty, complained loudly about the “stink” (it smelled all flowery n’ shit). Brassy, on my other shoulder, agreed just as loudly. No Good Boy Points for them. Berry, and Buttons ask to sniff some of the soaps and lotions, Egg slept, and Phantom flirted with a salesperson (traitor)(At least it wasn't Momma).

Corvus finally picked out a bubble bath scented with “calming lavender,” and I couldn't resist getting a bottle for myself too. With a bitty family like ours, we were going to need it. 

Our last stop for the day was a bitty-friendly grocery store. The carts had baskets in the top seat with a nice soft lining for bittys to ride in safely. Of course Red and Brassberry refused the basket (of course). Red wanted to be my seeing-eye bitty again and yell at people (i'm helping!) and Brassy wanted to ride in my cleavage (I like hearing her heartbeat). Phantom kept a watchful eyelight on Berry and Buttons, who were practically climbing the sides of the basket to browse the shelves.

Corvus had his hands full making sure Egg didn't get lost. Softbones bittys have a habit of falling asleep in strange places, which isn't a problem at home or in the smaller shops we visited earlier. In fact, when I paid for our purchases at Gigi's shop, she'd opened the till to find him dozing inside. This grocery store was bustling, though. Egg could end up in someone's purse or missing in the huge maze of aisles or bins of produce. Thankfully, Corvus was on the case!

We entered the candy aisle, and my two young bittys cheered. They had plans for their Good Boy Points, and those plans involved copious amounts of sugary treats! I also needed to restock my supply of jelly beans for Red, which I mercifully did not charge him any G for (it's a dietary requirement). I warned all three of my little candy addicts that I would be limiting their sugar intake. I learned from experience with Red that too many sweets can make a bitty violently ill (stop telling people about that!).

With our pile of unhealthy food in the bottom of the cart, we perused the other aisles, picking up staples like pancake mix and cheese puffs. Everyone except Egg voiced their opinion in the produce aisle (vegetables are gross and the world must know!)(Yeah, no veggies!), but I only needed a few items. Since it's summer time, I liked to head to the Farmer's Market on the weekends for local fruits and vegetables. I don't care how much a certain Edgy Bitty complains; he's going to eat a balanced diet!

(we’ll see about that!)

On our way to the checkout lanes, Brassberry asked if we could go to the meat department to get a steak. Since adopting Buttons, I've been having all of our meat products delivered, but Brassy liked to pick out his own like a mighty hunter singling out his prey. I prepared to remind him that a certain family member might become anxious at the sight of flesh when the family member in question spoke up.

“If you want to go, I'll be OK, Momma,” Buttons said, reassuring me several more times when I questioned the decision. 

Crossing the basket, Buttons stood next to Corvus, who beamed at him. Corvus wrapped a dark wing around him, and Egg woke up to hug Buttons around the middle. I felt a tug on my hair; Red demanded to be placed in the basket, where he took up a protective position behind Buttons, one itsy bitsy hand on the young bitty's shoulder.

(it ain't like that! i just wanted some of the attention or whatever…)

Apparently, in addition to helping Buttons with his nightmares and his eye socket injuries, Egg and Corvus have been talking him through his residual fears from the trauma he experienced in his original home. Even Berry strolled over to stand beside his friend.

“Let's go to the meat section and fuck shit up,” the baby-faced potty-mouth cheered.

So we're on our way to the meat section, possibly to fuck shit up (yay!) and maybe also get a steak for Brassy I guess (Yay!).

Why can't we ever just have a normal shopping trip?