blossom

“—Remember, you only live once! And what better way to spend it than with the person who stole your heart!” The pink haired radio show hostess commented to her current caller. As the person on the other line agreed with her claims, she gave a satisfied nod to herself and smiled. “Great! Thanks for calling and best of luck to you!” And with that, the call disconnected. “Enjoyed listening to that killer advice and dying to hear some more?” She then spoke to her mic, making a small pause as if she was waiting for a reaction when it was only just her inside the room. Still, her smile grew as if someone had responded to her before she continued. “Just wait! After this next song, we’ll head straight into the next caller for On the Air with C.A. Cupid! And if you want that to be you, call this number and maybe we’ll be hearing you on the radio!” With that the song began to play, giving the hostess a moment for a quick water break.

Blossom listened to the radio host’s response with rapt attention, looking for all the world like she used to in class, front row with her notebook open to take notes of everything the teacher said. Most of what C.A. Cupid was saying were things Blossom knew already: the awkwardness of a failed confession wouldn’t ruin their friendship, because it already hadn’t when things were flipped around. (But that didn’t mean she wanted to go through all that painfully awkward tension again if it wasn’t necessary.) She knew Huey cared about her as a friend before a potential love interest and that they’d make it through this blip too if their feelings weren’t mutual, even if it was unfortunate then that their timing just sucked. What she wasn’t sure about was that he had any lingering feelings for her after so many years had passed. Maybe it was Bubbles and Morty getting back together that had gotten into her head and made her do such a dangerous thing as hope—now Cupid was growing that hope, suggesting that Huey’s feelings may have only gotten stronger throughout the years. 

Watching as he made the Puff even more flustered, Butch snickered. It's amusing how easy it was to get under her skin with his lewd comments. It was almost as fun as whenever he got under B-Cups skin, only difference was that by now the redhead’s sister would’ve tried landing a hit on him with how annoyed he had gotten her. But when it came to Blossom, she tried the ignoring him tactic, yet when it didn’t seem to work, she threatened him with a good time of having an ice bath. “You’re offering to give me one?” Butch cheekily asked with a raised brow despite her not looking at his direction anymore. Jokes on her, an ice bath would do the complete opposite of not making him horny. But then again, the Ruff was horny 24/7— that’s why he was at this joint in the first place. He planned on finding his next victim for the night, that is, until he came across Pinky, and now here they were. With another laugh, he finally moved back, still staring at her direction as she actually gave him an answer to why she was here. “And you think not finding someone to fuck wouldn’t be fun? Your loss.” He commented, boredom already starting to hit now that he finally got his answer. Then a new thought had struck him, and the Rowdyruff grinned once again. “Alright, you want some fun? How about you and I play a drinking game then? It’s on me.” 

It was rare when Buttercup showed her sweet side. Anytime she did, she preferred that no one drew attention to it either — yet everyone always did thus ruining the moment, making Buttercup roll her eyes and revert to her usual attitude. “Don’t get used to it,” she said at first, her words not as harsh as they could’ve been. She took offense to her sister’s question though, even if she was right — she did want advice, but why did Blossom have to be such a know-it-all about it? She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of being right so easily. She shot her sister a stubborn glare. “Who says I need something?”

The only response Blossom offered her sister was a knowing (but patient) tilt of the head. It said, “We both know you want something, so let’s not waste time pretending otherwise. Now do you want to tell me about it or not? I may be a know-it-all, but I’m a good listener,” without needing to say anything at all. Buttercup wasn’t the kind who could be pushed into anything, let alone admitting to needing help—which Blossom highly suspected was what this was about—and she had already annoyed her by calling it out. She wasn’t going to say anything to make it worse.

Huey was aware that the way he’s been thinking and feeling lately was a little illogical. For as much as he wished he had been there at the hotel to prevent that wall from falling onto Louie and crushing his leg, he couldn’t be so sure that anything different would’ve happened if he had been. But the fact that he wasn't there was haunting him— the reality that he not only was the last one among his siblings to even know about what was going on or why Dewey, Louie, and Webby were all inside that hotel in the first place but also the fact that he wasn’t even given a choice to have been there in the first place or not. So hearing Blossom ask him if he really thought he could’ve stopped Louie from getting hurt if he had been there at the time, the most Huey did was take in a deep breath as he stared back at her. “Maybe.” He replied. “Maybe I could’ve been able to push Louie out of the way in time, or notice the sound of the bombs ticking before they had set off and could’ve warned everyone we had to leave…” Even saying that out loud, the eldest Duck triplet could hear how farfetched that sounded. 

As pinky’s cheeks began to darken, the smirk the Rowdyruff was sporting only grow. Did he actually believe that she was here for some sexual and deviant act he was assuming she was here for? Nope. The bow wearing leader was dead last among the three Powerpuffs who he would expect to see do such a thing— hell, he bet if anything that Blossom was more of a prude who thought that waiting her true love or something as nauseating shit as that was the way to go instead of fucking a random stranger. Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have his fun making such claims as that. Especially after the way she looked at him after doing so— the ravenette snickering as he did so. At her question of him getting off speculating about people’s private lives, he rest his arm against the table and deliberately leaned in close to the redhead. “Uh yeah— I do.” Butch remarked, now with a taunting grin. “Come on, Pinky, just tell me! If you aren’t here looking for a good fuck, then what are you here for?”  

If it was possible for her to blush even harder than she already was, Butch’s response to her attempt to brush him off with a rhetorical question about him getting off on this was enough to do it. His answer, and the way he leaned into her personal space to smirk at her like a creep. His face was all too close to hers now, so she turned her head again, returning to staring pointedly at the shelves of alcohol behind the bar. She knew the only proper way to handle this was to ignore him, but he wasn’t letting up, insisting on knowing what she was doing here if not to hook up. “Do you need an ice bath?” she asked, threatening him with her special power if he was apparently too hot and bothered to have a civil conversation. Perhaps she relied on her powers too much; she had a brain to reason with him. She knew that Buttercup was somehow able to suffer his company, so there must be something redeeming about his personality. (Or was it really just about the fighting and…the other f word? She didn’t want to think about it.) “If you must know, I’m just here to have fun. Maybe make some friends. That’s all.” It occurred to her that Butch might still not believe that she was really here to loosen up, considering he’d pushed her right into defensive prude-mode, but it was the truth. He could take it or leave it.

For once within Huey’s life, he felt completely lost by what to do. There was no rule or passage within the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook that could solve all his problems for him, and even if there was, he wasn’t even confident that it would do much to ease the way he’s been feeling as of late. A huge shocker since anyone who knew Huey knew he always resorted to his guidebook whenever he was in a pinch or felt troubled, but from everything that had occurred within his family and especially that of the actions of his middle brother? The Junior Woodchuck Guidebook could not guide Huey this time around, and that could possibly explain why his mind has been so loud since the day of the bombing. Huey hated feeling this way, and if it wasn’t his mind reminding him of how he hadn’t been there at the hotel when the bombs went off with all three of his siblings inside of it, it was then his mind taunting him of how he couldn’t do anything to protect any of his siblings! Of how he hadn’t been there to protect Louie— or at the very lest, prevent the amputation of his youngest brother’s leg. God, and don’t even get him started at what his mind says whenever he see’s Dewey. It was a mess. A horrendous and horrible mess, and Huey wanted nothing more than to turn back down and prevent all of this from happening.

“Huey…” Blossom’s heart ached for him as he spoke of fearing what would happen if he wasn’t there next time somebody got hurt. She knew exactly what that was like, to a scale that she wasn’t even sure Huey himself could understand. She could never leave Destiny Isle or take vacation when some monster or supervillain could wreak havoc the moment her back was turned; she could never relax and turn off the hotline, because lives were at stake any time the Powerpuff Girls weren’t there to save the day. They had to remain ever-vigilant, or else be saddled with the guilt of any losses incurred during their absence forever. “Listen,” she prompted, making eye contact with Huey and holding it so he would focus on the importance of what she was about to say. “Do you really think that if you had been there, you could have stopped Louie from getting hurt? There were explosives. Part of the building collapsed. Your siblings were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but there’s nothing you could have done, and if you were present, you might have been hurt, too.”

“I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.” - blossom [ @blossomu ]

Being called boring wasn’t something rare or unusual for Blossom. She was a sensible young woman, the kind who had a respectable bedtime…Most people found things like that to be “boring,” her own sisters often included. A Rowdyruff boy’s opinion on how exciting or interestingly she lived her life held even less weight to her, so she brushed Butch’s original diss off by saying he was wrong (in cleverer words than that) and trying to move along, but that didn’t seem to be enough to satiate Butch’s appetite for bothering her. He just kept talking, saying more and more inappropriate things. Heat bloomed in her face as he made his guesses about what brought her to the bar, but she kept her gaze trained away from him, not wanting to give the satisfaction of a reaction until the last thing he said pushed her over the line. She whipped her head around to face him. “None of the above! And it’s none of your business. Do you get off on speculating about people's private lives?”

Buttercup knew her words wouldn't be enough to get her sister off her back, but it was still worth a shot. Instead, she was met with her sister's nagging about going to bed at a decent time. How lame. Why not set practice at a decent time instead? "I don't know, I don't see Bubbles stepping up to do it," Buttercup couldn't help but point out, face slightly to the side of the pillow now so her words were coming out as more than mumbles. "Seems like you must find some enjoyment in being the worst." She was all bark and no bite of course, and Blossom knew that by now. So as she shook her sister's shoulder again, Buttercup groaned frustratedly, shoving her sister's arm off of her and sitting up with crossed arms. "Alright, I'm up! Don't expect me to be happy about it."

“That’s the point, Buttercup,” Blossom retorted, rolling her eyes at the mention of Bubbles not stepping up to keep everyone in check. Neither of her sisters wanted to be the responsible one, so it was left to the “eldest” to take charge and make sure they all stayed on track. Even if she was generally happy to fill that role, she didn’t think Buttercup had half a clue how much actual work went into managing their own band, when her only job was just show up and play—and she didn’t even want to be on time for that, instead whining and calling her the worst. Blossom decided to yank the blankets off her after all, feeling a little satisfaction that the tactic worked and finally forced her sister to start getting up, even if she was extra grumpy now. “You don’t have to be happy about it, just be present. Thank you!”

Normally, Dewey didn't hesitate when it came to getting hurt. That was typically the least of his worries, more focused on his determination in the situation than the consequences. However, after what happened with Louie at the hotel .... his priorities had to change. So as soon as Blossom mentioned getting hurt, he stepped back, even if he wanted to continue to protest so badly. Louie was already pissed at him (possibly forever), so he shouldn't put himself in more danger and piss off more of his family .. He sighed in defeat. "Fine," he settled, already pulling his phone camera out to document. "You sure you got this?"

Blossom offered a gentle smile as Dewey agreed not to get too close to the danger, albeit reluctantly. Knowing what had happened to Louie not long ago and how deeply it was affecting everyone in the family, they both seemed to understand with an unspoken acknowledgment that another Duck brother getting hurt was the last thing they needed. “I’m sure,” she answered, and under normal circumstances she might have been a little annoyed by the implication that she wouldn’t be able to handle it on her own, but with things as they stood, she was a little more forgiving of Dewey’s desire to be involved. He just wanted to help somebody, and that was an admirable, if not entirely useful aspiration. “I’ll handle this and we’ll meet back right here, okay?"