Chapter Text
“Scar, if you ever do this to me again, I’m going to kill you.”
Grian grunted as he sat down, one hand going to his stomach as he did. Immediately, Scar handed him a bowl of soup. The others looked over, Pearl humming sympathetically and Gem setting a hand on her friend’s shoulder. Grian smiled at her appreciatively. “What’s wrong?”
“People keep touching my stomach.” Taking an angry mouthful of soup, Grian continued, “It’s all the time. I hate it. Like—I know I’m pregnant, but seriously? It’s worse than when I first showed off that I had wings and everyone at MCC wanted to feel me up.”
Beside him, Scar paused. “Do you want me to commit a murder? Multiple murders?” There was barely a pause before he continued, “I’m down to commit murders. I’ll be violent. Who do I need to stab?”
“You will not be stabbing anyone.” Grian argued, sending a glare his husband’s way. “We are not going to commit assault just because—”
“It’s not assault, it’s self-defense.” Scar said. When Grian raised a hand, he closed his mouth.
“It’s really not worth our time and effort, Scar.” Continuing to eat, Grian leaned into Scar’s side. “And I’m really just too tired to deal with it. It happens, I have better things to worry about and better things to do. Like, you know. Growing a child. Your child.”
Scar glanced at the others. His gaze met Pearl’s, then Gem’s, and then he looked at Impulse and Mumbo. All of them had the same expression. Mumbo knew as soon as he glanced around. They didn’t need to say anything. They didn’t even really need to look at one another. Reaching over, he pulled out his communicator. There was a group chat without Grian already made. Now, normally, they would use this for something like Grian’s birthday, or his Christmas gifts. Something of that sort. Of course, there were other advantages to the group chat.
For instance, they could plan their revenge without Grian knowing about it.
<Mumbo> so we all know what we’re going to do, right?
<GeminiTay> punch people who touch Grian for no reason
<GoodTimeWithScar> absolutely not
<GoodTimeWithScar> I can guarantee none of us want to deal wih an angry pregnant avian
<PearlescentMoon> true
<PearlescentMoon> I think we should go with a more…casual way of things. Where he can’t stop us
<Mumbo> a permanent death loop
<PearlescentMoon> no
<Pearlescent Moon> Mumbo
<Mumbo> a temporary death loop?
<PearlescentMoon> absolutely not
<GeminiTay> I mean
<GoodTimeWithScar> can we not tempt fate, thank you
<PearlescentMoon> but it’s so fun
<GeminiTay> come on Scar, live a little /lh
<GoodTimeWithScar> nope
<GoodTimeWithScar> I would prefer not to have my husband be a widower by way of murder
It began with Mumbo.
This was less because of any plan and more because Mumbo happened to be around at the time. As soon as he had gotten back from the meeting, Mumbo had sought out his old printer, found a spray bottle, and then typed out “Stupid People Spray Bottle”. He didn’t want to use it—
That was a lie. He wanted to use it. Badly. He wanted to use it so badly, in fact, that he was the first to volunteer when Grian asked for company involving his grocery trip. Scar wasn’t able to go. So, Grian needed to have some company. At the very least, having some company might deter the people who kept on annoying him. He deserved that much.
Unfortunately, however, when they arrived at the grocery store, it was like they had walked into a pack of wasps covered in honey and soft drinks.
The Karens were on them immediately.
A woman with two screaming toddlers in her cart, one older than the other and both with her curly dark hair and blue eyes, came up. She had a pleasant smile. Grian tried not to interact with her. As she got close, Mumbo leered over Grian’s shoulder and scowled at her, holding up the very clearly labelled spray bottle. Thankfully, Grian and Scar had purposefully chosen a server that allowed him to have such things. If people touched Grian, he was allowed to defend himself—and Scar had written permission Mumbo was carrying in his pocket that would allow Mumbo to defend his husband in his place. He had it scribbled down and signed and everything. Lingering behind Grian, Mumbo stared at the woman scathingly. He even saw her eyes flick to the spray bottle.
Thankfully, she backed off.
They continued through the room. Grian was accosted several more times. When he wasn’t looking, Mumbo sprayed an old lady in the face. She had glasses. She would be fine. Mumbo, meanwhile, was fine becoming Grian’s personal attack dog. Attack Mumbo. Grian was his best friend, and unlike the others Grian may not even think this was that strange. He would just assume that Mumbo had this normally, because it was a very Mumbo Thing to have a spray bottle.
As long as Mumbo didn’t let Grian see the label on the spray bottle, that was fine. Mumbo could have a spray bottle. That, Grian wouldn’t question. He would, unfortunately, question a spray bottle labelled “The Anti-Baby Karen Spray Bottle”. Besides, then Grian might get embarrassed and Mumbo didn’t want to make him feel bad, so he wasn’t going to do that.
They were in the snack aisle, and Grian was looking hungrily at the different crisps options. Now, Mumbo had seen Grian eat some pretty weird things over the course of the pregnancy—the most notorious of which was a foul combination of banana, peanut butter, and ranch. The way he was looking at the crisps was a pretty similar one. “Which ones do you want?” Mumbo asked.
Looking at him, Grian hummed. “We have plenty of crisps at home, Mumbo.”
“Yeah, but you’re an avian and you’re pregnant. You need the carbs.” Looking over the options, Mumbo thought over what he knew of Grian and what options were there, what options were in the pantry. “It’s the cheddar cheese ones, isn’t it?”
“I—” Grian sighed. “Yeah. It’s the cheddar cheese ones.”
Mumbo snatched a tube of the cheddar cheese chips off the shelf and put them in the cart. His spray bottle stayed hooked on his belt, obvious enough. When he smiled at Grian, his friend’s wings were ever so slightly ruffled. In a happy way, not a disgruntled or upset one. Good. He thought triumphantly.
Grian deserved his cheese chips.
And the Karens deserved to get spritzed in the face.
When he and Grian returned from the grocery store, Grian went to take a nap, and the others put away the groceries for him at Scar’s directions.
Or, okay, “directions”. He wasn’t very good at it. Even as Scar made attempts, the others were working on it a lot quicker. Impulse and Gem were working faster, Pearl beside them at the fridge while they worked in the pantry. Mumbo passed them the food. The cheddar cheese crisps were placed on Grian’s shelf. Scar’s shelf was filled with various kinds of chocolate and cake mixes. As they worked, Mumbo spared a glance into the bedroom where Grian was sleeping. He was out, curled on his left side with his wings wrapped around him and his back turned to them all.
“So,” he began, “good news. The spray bottle worked. However, I’m not always going to be around and I know he’s got another thing coming up. Any takers?”
Gem grinned wickedly, “I’ll do it. We were going shopping for baby clothes.”
Grinning wickedly at her, Mumbo turned back to putting groceries away.