A/N: This came up way sooner than I thought I could manage. I guess with the one-shot I have planned out, I had to make a little haste with the finale. I hope you're all satisfied with how it turned out; I know I am. :)
Lincoln was a deer in the headlights, his body frozen in fear as his heart beat in cue with the angry footsteps that were fast approaching. He was sure that Leni, Lucy, Lana, and Luna were in the same boat, seeing as how they didn't bother to move, either.
The window of time to obey either side of his fight-or-flight response was quickly closing in, but the boy's brain was locked into a state of paralysis, dooming him to neither confront the incoming conundrum head on or flee the scene before his parents could spot him.
It didn't help that the equally as petrified "nice" sisters were smack dab in the middle of the inbound parental tempest (as well as splatter after incriminating splatter of yellow paint), their faces etched with frightful expressions that appealed to Lincoln's kinder instincts—but try as he might, as much as he wished to cry out words of comfort, a plea for a retreat…anything, his heavy breath strangled his dry throat further, cramming down any words from coming out.
And then his heart sank into his gut when the footsteps ended; his mother and father appeared on the scene, indignation and anger etched across their crimson-splotched faces. Had their gazes not been fixed on them but on him instead, Lincoln swore that his insides would've churned enough to make him throw up.
Rita was the first to speak, and the targets of her ire flinched before she could utter a syllable.
"What is this?!" she cried, gesturing towards the front door, which was nearly caked entirely in a shade of bright yellow.
Lynn Sr. marched over to the bottom steps, and Lincoln nearly stumbled backwards—he thought his father was about to lunge up the stairs towards him, but he only headed in that direction to jab a finger towards those sets of stairs, the brown finish hidden under the wet, clumpy layer of yellow paint and balloon shreds.
"How did all this yellow paint get on our walls, stairs, and carpet?!" Lynn Sr. shouted.
He only allowed a few seconds of silence from a lack of an immediate reply before he stormed back to his wife's side and mirrored her movements, arms folded and faces glowering in the direction of the innocent party.
"Wait!"
All eyes were centered on the source of the outburst as it rushed down the stairs to enter the fray—there was no way that Lincoln could stand by and watch anymore. Seeing his innocent sisters having to endure getting thrown under the bus, because of him, spurred his actions before the cowardly part of his mind could tell him to do otherwise.
Once he reached the bottom step, his shoes sloshing into the paint as he did, Lincoln leapt in the space between the huddled sisters and his seething parents. Even now, locking eyes with them sent Lincoln's pulse up several beats, but he willed his wobbly legs and knocking knees to stay put.
"Mom, Dad, it's not what you think!" Lincoln cried, his arms shaking as he spread them wide, as if to shield his sisters from harm. "The truth is, it-"
"Was me!"
The "confession" caught completely off guard, rendering him speechless and immobile as he watched Lori come into view, standing in front of him in what Lincoln could only surmise was an effort to return the favor and shield him.
"I did it! It was all me, Mom and Dad!" Lori said, her voice wavering with pleading desperation.
To make things even more confusing for Lincoln, Lori was quickly joined in by Lynn, who took a stand next to Lori.
"M-me too!" Lynn said. "I helped!"
At this point, Lincoln was beginning to find his voice, but that didn't matter—even if he could say anything else, he was beaten to the punch by three other voices, all of which assembled next to either side of Lori and Lynn.
"I figured this house needed a makeover," Lola said, clasping her hands behind her back while her head bowed.
"I assisted the tomfoolery as well," Lisa said, fidgeting in place.
"I thought it'd be funny," Luan said, chuckling weakly.
Rita and Lynn Sr. took only a moment to take in each of the sister's lies and reach a decision, missing out on how their son was trying to literally push his way back into the front of the conversation.
"Well, I hope you girls enjoy cleaning on your hands and knees because that's exactly what you're going to do until every spot of paint is gone," Rita said, her tone deathly calm and twice as intimidating as her raised voice.
"And for whatever part of the mess you can't clean up yourself," Lynn Sr. added, his rare sternness sending tremors through the children, "we'll make sure to take the necessary amount of money out of all five of your allowances to pay for the new paint and carpet cleaning services."
Rita finished it off with the final blow, turning to leave with her husband in tow.
"And on top of that, you're all grounded for a month," she said, heading to the kitchen to grab some rags and buckets.
"But…b-but I…" Lincoln whispered, watching as his appeal for justice crumbled through his fingers like dust.
Just the same, even with the bitter taste of guilt swishing around in his mouth, Lincoln found some solace in the fact that Lola, Lori, Luan, Lisa, and Lynn decided not to confront him—he didn't think he could manage to look at their disappointed faces without collapsing on the floor and bursting into tears.
Instead, the punished five, their heads drooping and feet dragging, shuffled in a single file line where their parents had gone…
Leaving Lincoln alone to silently survey the damage he had caused to both his home and to his own blood. His part in all of this was crystal clear to him; he didn't make them take the fall for him, but even so, it all felt the same as intentionally exploiting their kindness and altruism for his own benefit—after all, there'd be nothing to cover up if he hadn't made the bed for them to possibly lie in in the first place.
He wasn't a stranger to his plans blowing up in his face like, but this failure went well and beyond a simple setback. Now that the sway of desperation and confidence had drained completely out of him, he dwelt on the fact that there was no way for his scheme to have a happy ending. He obviously knew what failure tasted like but what if he had succeeded? What if those balloons had hit true? Then what? Five of his sisters who, as far was Lincoln concerned, were only trying to be better people, get their thanks with a barrage of paint-filled balloons and the scorn that each projectile carried within?
What…what kind of brother was he? What on Earth was wrong with him?
"What've we done?"
It was the sullen voice of Lucy that snapped Lincoln out of his wallowing. He looked to his left and saw that Luna, Leni, Lana, and Lucy had joined him, gazing around at the mess that they had created. Lincoln didn't need to have ESP to know that their minds were marinated in the same guilty thoughts as them, since their faces told him everything he needed to know—poor Lana looked like she was on the verge of tears.
"We blew it, dude," Luna replied. "That's what we did."
"I'm pretty sure we 'yellow'd' it, Luna," Leni said, the silliness of her statement doing nothing to undermine the genuine sadness that she felt.
Lincoln growled in frustration; his heart couldn't take anyone else feeling sorry and hurt for what he had orchestrated.
"No," Lincoln said firmly. "I blew it. We should've just told them to cut it out from the start. Yeah, it might've hurt their feelings, but at least it'd be better than them being punished for what we did."
"Yes, but we still went along with your plan anyway," Lucy said as she held Lana in a hug, letting her sobs be muffled into her dress as she hid her face and wept. "We're just as much to blame as you."
Lincoln was about to reply with the contrary, but he realized that arguing over semantics was going to get him nowhere, especially when the others didn't bother to deny Lucy's claims. They could argue back and forth all night long about who was and who wasn't to blame, but it wouldn't get them anywhere. If they were willing to stick together and admit that they, too, were guilty, then they would hopefully be in line for what he had to say to them next.
"Guys?" Lincoln asked.
He immediately earned the looks of Lucy, Luna, and Leni—Lana joined them as soon as the last of her tears came out and she felt composed enough not to cry any further.
"I know this is really asking a lot, but could you all trust me to go along with one last plan? I promise that it's much better than the dumb ones I've been making all day."
The thing that gave Lincoln that opinion was the fact that this plan wasn't bred from the thrill of outmaneuvering and outsmarting, from abandoning morality with the prize as the only objective. No, this time…this time, it would be different and it would be for the better.
As if they sensed this for themselves, the sisters smiled at their brother.
And Lincoln smiled back. He thought it almost every day, but the sentiment was more apparent than ever; he really did have the best dang family anywhere around.
Fifteen minutes passed until Lincoln decided to make his move. He didn't wait out of keeping in line with a time constraint for his plan; he simply needed to summon the courage to pull off his role.
'I just hope they're too mad at me,' Lincoln thought as he left his room to reach his destination, knowing full well that what he was wishing for was something that he neither deserved nor found to be plausible.
All the same, he kept his head held high as he walked towards the stairs. He fought against the urge to pause by the corner and peer at all the manual labor his sisters were tasked with, anticipating the chance of him chickening out once he got the chance to stop himself in his tracks.
But as he rounded the corner and treaded softly down the steps, he almost wished that he had taken a moment to collect his thoughts because the sight he saw nearly broke his wounded heart into pieces all over again.
His sisters were down on their knees, their skin scraping roughly against the carpet bristles as they sprayed and wiped away at the paint that stubbornly clung into the fibers. Each grunt of discomfort and exertion stabbed Lincoln in the chest, and it forced his steps to grow heavier and louder as he bounded down the stairs quicker, drawing the focus of the sisters.
Lincoln froze, stopping over halfway down as soon as he inadvertently got their attention before he could prepare himself. Locking eyes with their eyes petrified his limbs into stone, keeping him rooted. Their gazes were glossed over with something that Lincoln found indescribable, perhaps a concoction of just about every negative emotion that Lincoln felt they were holding in right now.
Whatever it was, it sent a cold shiver down his back and settled in his gut.
"Hey," Lincoln said. "So…u-um…"
He paused after he noted how their faces had shifted; from expressions traced with a sheen of sadness and confusion to glares fueled with ire. Lincoln found his voice once he looked away from them to stare at the blots of paint on the ceiling.
"C-could you guys help me with something?" Lincoln asked, cringing when he felt a cold sweat beginning to form and trickle down his neck. "There's something I need you to do for me."
*clunk*
Lincoln squeaking, jumping up a bit from the sound. He quickly looked back down at his sisters and saw Lynn, standing on her feet with her arm outstretched towards the soapy water-filed bucket next to her—Lincoln guessed that she must've thrown her wet rag into it, producing the noise that nearly startled him out of his wits.
"What? You got more balloons for us?" Lynn asked, her glare more pronounced.
"Don't forget to account for the trajectory so they'll be sure to hit their designated targets this time," Lisa said.
"What's in the new ones?" Luan asked. "Garbage? Puke? Our torn-up homework assignments?"
Lincoln couldn't lie, each of those remarks hurt and he made no bones about showing it. All the pain did was remind him how stupid he had been all day; this is what he wanted from his sisters all this time? And in his own words, "for an eternity"?
Lincoln sighed. "I deserved that," he said. "But seriously, just hear me out, okay? I know I'm asking for a lot, but it'd really mean a lot to me if you did."
Lincoln watched with bated breath as a new development instantly took place; instead of immediately shooting him down like he had thought they'd do, the girls huddled together, whispering in low voices to each other. Whatever it was they were discussing, however bad it may be for him, Lincoln was willing to take it all without a fight.
But still, he really needed them get stop cleaning up and join him in his room. His plan couldn't work if their stubbornness and commitment to their "nice" crusade was going to keep them locked under the punishment that they didn't deserve.
Finally, Lori broke the silence once the huddle dispersed, leaving a row of ticked off sisters to glare at Lincoln once more.
"Fine," Lori said, rolling her eyes. "Let's take a break for now, girls. Let's hear what our brother has to say for himself."
Like most sibling interventions and meetings, the conversation took place in Lori and Leni's room. Lori was quick to notice that her roommate was nowhere to be found, but quickly abandoned any further mulling once her little brother called everyone's attention. Lori soon joined the rest of her sisters, who were sitting on her bed while Lincoln stood in front of the dresser.
"Look, I am so sorry about what we did you today," Lincoln said, his face cinched in a miserable-looking frown. "The paint balloons, the mudball fights…everything. It was really mean, and we shouldn't have-"
"Why?!" Lincoln's monologue was halted the instant Lola shouted over him. "Why've you and the others been so mean to us today?! We were just trying to be nice! Why else do you think we took the fall for you?!"
Lincoln nearly shed a tear, seeing Lola's cute little face twisted in the sorrow and pain that he and his other sisters had caused them. Lola was usually this indignant and loud over petty reasons, but Lincoln knew better than to think of the situation as petty, just to give himself a way out from the thrashing that guilt was dealing him right now.
"But that's the thing," Lincoln muttered softly. "You were being…"
"Being what?" Lynn snapped.
Lincoln grinned sheepishly. "Y-y'know, a little too nice."
His confession took the blustering winds out of their sails as their anger began to slowly seep out of them. Utter confusion took the reins now, coaxing Lori to ask, "What'd you mean 'too nice'?"
Lincoln felt himself growing calmer and more confident to move on, now that he wasn't stared at from five sets of furious eyes.
"Well, what I mean is, you've been acting so nice lately, that it's been getting on everyone's nerves; the nicer you act, the more annoying it gets for the rest of us."
And that's when Lincoln felt his insides pelted with even more twinges of guilt; if seeing their angry faces was a painful, then seeing them feel utter shame in themselves was excruciating.
"I'm sorry," he continued. "That's why I went with the whole 'paint balloon' route; I just wanted you to snap at us, and then you'd hopefully stop. That way, I wouldn't have to tell you that you trying to act 'nice' was annoying, and I wouldn't have to hurt your feelings."
By the time Lincoln was finished, he quickly became acquainted with how bitter those last few words tasted. Right now, his sisters looked more hurt than any time he could remember, and it was mostly because of him.
"Some sisters we are," Lisa said.
"No wonder we're the 'mean sisters'," Lynn said, her head resting against her open palms as she slouched forward. "We couldn't pull off being 'nice sisters' if our lives depended on it."
Now, it was Lincoln's turn to be befuddled. He was right to think that they were just trying to be nice, but all that other stuff? It just didn't add up.
"'Nice sisters'? 'Mean sisters'? What the heck are you guys on about?" he asked.
Lynn shook her head and sighed. "You don't have to play dumb with us, Lincoln. We know everything."
Lincoln just shrugged. "Know what?"
"We know how you think about us," Lori explained, slightly irritated at what she thought was her brother's false claim of ignorance. "None of us think that we're 'mean sisters', but you clearly do. That's why we were trying so hard to get you to love us just like you love the 'nice sisters'."
"We all know about the list," Lola added.
Belabored with even more confusing circumstances, Lincoln asked, more forcibly than intended, "List? What list?"
In response, Lynn pulled a balled-up piece of paper from her pocket, uncrumpled it, walked up to Lincoln, and held it up to his face.
"This list," Lynn said, allowing Lincoln to take it out of her hands so he could read it up close for himself. "I found it in your room when I was looking for your earbuds."
"Ring any bells?" Luan asked, as Lynn took her spot on the bed again.
Even through the creases and slight smudges of sweat and dirt on the paper, Lincoln could make everything out perfectly clear. And like Luan had alluded to, bells were definitely ringing in his head as he recalled the events that led up to the list's creation in the first place.
"Yeah, it's all coming back to me now," Lincoln said. "The funny thing is, I could've sworn I tossed this list out with the others. Guess I must've stuffed it in my drawer absentmindedly."
"'The others'?" Lisa asked.
Lincoln nodded. "Uh-huh. Remember the time when we all swapped roommates? Well, when I got paired up with Lily, I hated the arrangement, and I tried to make a new one that would suit all of us. Naturally, I slotted myself into a room for one, since it's obvious that having no roommate fits better for me than the rest of you."
Despite everything, Lincoln couldn't help but snicker at the questioning glances that last statement got.
"Anyway," he said, "I tried new creating rooming arrangements based on hair color, height, GPA, weight, fashion choices, etc., but I soon realized that nothing I was doing was working. But then, I thought, 'Why don't I try grouping my sisters into two sets, and then see if I can make a new pairing out of those groups?'"
A lightbulb went off in Luan's head. "And one of your ideas was the whole 'nice'/'mean' sister thing?"
Lincoln could feel tension in her voice from her suggestion and hastily scrambled to put an end to any sprouting implications would only make them feel bad all over again.
"Yes, but it's not what you think!" Lincoln said. He calmed down before he spoke again. "When I wrote down 'nice' and 'mean', I didn't really mean 'nice' and 'mean', per se. What I really meant was 'passive' and 'aggressive'."
He flipped the list over and pointed at one spot that his sisters followed with their eyes. "See? I even put quotation marks around 'nice' and 'mean' because those were the first words I could think of, but they didn't mean exactly what I was trying to go for."
Once again, Lynn slid off the bed, this time to walk over to Lincoln and take the list back for herself. Once she did, she immediately look down at those two words and realized...
"He's right," Lynn said after only a second, handing Lincoln the paper back.
Lola waited for Lynn to take her seat again before she said her piece. "Okay, but that still doesn't answer why you labeled us like this."
Lincoln rubbed the back of his head nervously. This was certainly going to take a little bit of explaining, and he wasn't sure if he could do that without feeling like a complete idiot. That didn't stop him from trying, anyway.
"See, I thought that with our old pairings," Lincoln said, "each room had a 'passive' sister and an 'aggressive' sister and because of that, the chemistry was off; I thought that naturally, an 'aggressive' sister should be paired up with another one and a 'passive' sister with another one, right? Y'know, to keep the other in check?"
Lincoln felt his cheeks burn from shame from the blank stares he was getting; they were no doubt judging him for how stupid that "logic" sounded, and Lincoln couldn't be mad at them for thinking that—he felt the same way, after all.
"So, instead of 'mean', you meant 'aggressive'?" Lori asked, her voice dripping with incredulity.
"Yes," Lincoln replied, "but after thinking about it, I realized that that was a stupid way of grouping you guys together too. First of all, there's five in each group, meaning that there would have to be one room with a 'nice sister' and a 'mean sister' in it, which would defeat the whole purpose of what I was going for."
Lincoln stopped from speaking further when he noticed Lisa snickering, her mouth hidden behind her hands—no doubt, she was amused by the fact that he had made such an obvious mathematical blunder without spotting it right away. Still, if anything, her jovial response urged a grin to form on Lincoln's face; at least one of his sisters seemed pleased with themselves and that counted for something in his book.
"Second of all, and most importantly," Lincoln continued, letting his list fall out of his hand to flutter to the ground, "last time I checked, all of us have aggressively tried to get what we want from each other at one point, whether it's a car seat or a quarter underneath the couch cushions."
On his trip down memory lane, Lincoln stumbled across as thought that caused him to chuckle. "Oh yeah, and you all were pretty aggressive when you tried to get me to go to either Alola Beach or Dairyland. None of you were pulling any punches that time, either."
His infectious chuckling got some of his sisters to join in. Only Lynn and Lola refused to partake, but Lincoln took what he could get, figuring that it was imperative for his next words to sink in and mean something to them. Before he did, though, he closed the distance between him and his sisters, until he was only about a footstep away from walking into Lori's bed. Thank the heavens they didn't flinch away in disgust; Lincoln didn't know if he could recover from such an outward display of revulsion.
"The point is," Lincoln said, tenderness speaking through every word, "none of you are just one thing, and I should've never treated you like you were. You all have different tendencies and qualities that define you, and there's no way that anyone can just stamp a label on you like that and call it a day."
He hung his head, unconsciously averting his eyes from the way his sisters were taking his words in. "And I, of all people, should've known that better than most."
He shook himself out of his bogging self-pity and managed to look back up before he proceeded. For the most part, his sisters looked like they weren't resisting him, but he couldn't be too sure. And even if they were disbelieving to him, he had way more too say than what he had already confessed.
"But anyway, after I realized how stupid I was being, I just gave up on writing up new rooming arrangements entirely. Even if there was a right way to do it, I wasn't doing it the way I should've. And do you wanna know why? It's because I never accounted you for who you are as people. Instead of thinking about you for everything that you are, I boxed you in all nice and neat to make things easier for myself. None of you are 'nice', 'mean', 'passive', 'aggressive', whatever. You're not perfect, but hey, nobody is. And besides, you're still the best sisters in the world, and if anyone says otherwise, they're insane."
To Lincoln's surprise, he not only felt a tear slide out of his eyes, but he gasped in shock when he realized that his sisters were doing the same thing, albeit to different degrees.
Lori had a hand clasped over her mouth, muffling her sobs as she freely let tears flow without restraint.
Lola did something similar, though, instead, her fingers were dabbing her moist eyes while a flattered smile graced her face.
Lisa had her glasses off and was holding her hand over her eyes, tears slipping through the tiny cracks of her laced fingers.
Lynn was using the corner of her jersey to brush away the wetness on her tear-stained cheeks.
Luan's eyes were glistening with unshed tears that had yet to dribble out. That changed when Lincoln spoke up again.
"I'm sorry my dumb list made you feel bad about yourselves," Lincoln said, his voice crackling as a few tears came out. "I know it's a kind of a copout answer to give, but I love you all equally, and I don't think any less of you than my supposed 'nice sisters'. All of you are my family, and…and…"
Lincoln couldn't hold himself back anymore. The dam broke and he fell to the floor on his knees—by now his face was drenched in his tears.
"I'm the luckiest brother in the world for having every single one of you in my life!" he wailed.
Lincoln wasn't taking in his surroundings, what with him openly weeping without restraint, which is why he was taken aback when he felt pairs of arms and warm bodies holding him from all angles. The surprise was enough to stop him from crying, and he cracked an eye open to affirm his conclusions—his sisters were hugging him tightly, crying their eyes out just as loudly as Lincoln was before.
Surprisingly, the sight and sound of their weeping didn't make Lincoln sob again; he was too busy being happy with the knowledge that his sisters no longer felt inadequate about themselves, feeling as though they had to measure up to some preposterous standard.
They knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he loved them equally and that's all that mattered to him.
About ten minutes later, all six children were calm and collected, feeling relief from everything that had happened. Once the crying had ended, the sisters whisked themselves away to a corner of the room to once again, talk amongst themselves. Lincoln respectfully kept his distance, smiling as the happy atmosphere washed over him like a relaxing, hot shower. Overall, this went way better than he thought and though he wasn't quite done with his plan yet, his sisters wanted the floor first, and he'd give them that much.
The huddle dispersed and the sisters returned to the middle of the room where Lincoln was patiently waiting.
"It means a lot that you think of us that way, Lincoln," Lola said, "but we're still not gonna stop being nicer."
Lincoln tilted his head in confusion, feeling a sprout of remorse creeping through his spirit. Didn't they just learn that they were fine just the way they were? Why did they feel the need to continue to overcompensate?
Lori answered the worst of his fears with her own statement.
"Yeah," she said. "We're really sorry that we were overbearing, but we can't let things end like this. Just because we're not 'mean sisters' doesn't mean that we can't be better sisters in general."
At that, Lincoln let out his hitched breath, calming down in an instant. Okay, if that was what they were going for, then he could let that slide without any worry.
"We'll still try to be nicer, but we promise that we won't go overboard," Lynn added.
"Indeed," Lisa said.
Lincoln smiled. "I can live with that."
The only one not to share any similar sentiments was Lola, who appropriately asked, "So, what happens now?"
Lincoln's grin grew bigger. Now, it was his turn to spread the good news.
"What happens now is that you girls get some rest while the mess gets cleaned up," he explained. "The 'nice sisters' and I are gonna fix what we caused. That's why I had you come up here; while we talked, I had Leni, Luna, Lucy, and Lana fess up to what we did. I'm sure you're off the hook now, and they're probably cleaning up all that paint as we speak. I'll be joining them in a bit."
His announcement earned the satisfied smiles of…most of his sisters. For reasons Lincoln couldn't understand, Lynn and Lola weren't looking so happy.
"Well, that's all well and good," Lola said, "but what about my side of the bedroom? Thanks to a certain twin sister and an older brother of mine, it's better off as a pigsty now."
"And I'm pretty sure that Lucy got bat guano on more than just my trophies," Lynn grumbled. "There's no way my bed's any good."
Luan's face brightened, the telltale sign that the opportunity for a joke had come to her.
"Last time I checked," Luan said, suppressing her giggles while she playfully poked Lynn in the ribs with her elbow, "the person sleeping in the bed's supposed to be pooped, not the bed itself!"
Luan couldn't keep from laughing and neither could Lynn. Once their laughter died down, Lincoln took his moment to speak again.
"You could both bunk with me while those messes get cleaned up too," Lincoln offered. "I know it's not much, but it's the least I can do."
Lola and Lynn looked at each and exchanged approving nods. Lola looked back at Lincoln and smiled.
"Why thank you, Lincoln," she said. "How very nice of you."
With that, Lincoln bid his sisters a good night before he turned to leave the room…
…until a pressing thought made him stop.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Lincoln said, looking back at where he had stood a little while ago. "It's time to take out the trash."
Sure enough, there was his list, one of its corners sticking underneath Lori's bed. He walked over to it, picked it up, and gave the paper a hard scowl before he started tearing the list to shreds. The pieces sprinkled onto the floor in a heap, and Lincoln scooped it up, walked up to Lori's wastebasket, and dumped the paper inside.
"There," Lincoln said, dusting off his hands as his sisters cheered. "Now, we can officially put this 'nice sister'/'mean sister' garbage behind us once and for all."
A/N: I told this to a friend in private, but I never considered "Nicely Done" a deconstruction fic. I thought it more as a subtle nod to the crowd who's aware of the trope I was featuring. But this chapter kinda puts it in that "deconstruction" territory. Still, I'm not gonna complain because as long as the story means something to you, that's all that matters.
Anyway, thanks for all the support and reviews. I really appreciate it. Like I mentioned before, the next major story will be a lengthy one-shot with one of the Loud sisters as the main character. So, make sure you're on the lookout because very soon, we're going to be joining our favorite cinnamon roll for her own lengthy story.