I, KatieK102, do not own the Powerpuff Girls. If I did then the RRB would have definitely appeared sooner!

It all starts when Butch realizes that Buttercup doesn't look at him the same way she looks at Mitch, and for some reason that bothers him. A lot.

Typically, Butch felt an array of emotions when he looked at his counterpart: rage, irritation, desire, superiority, pride; the urge to throw her through a skyscraper or pin her against a wall and smash their lips together. He was used to all of this.

He was not used to bitterness that settled in the pit of his stomach, which he refused to acknowledge as jealousy.

Just a few tables to his left, Buttercup and Mitch Mitchelson were setting up their chemistry equipment. The beakers, the prongs, the papers that told them which liquid did what, and how to mix them together. There wasn't anything exceptionally amusing about the task, so why the hell was Buttercup laughing so much?

And, a follow-up question, why did it bother Butch so freaken' much?

He decided not to dwell on that second one, but the first question nagged him mercilessly. Even though it was petty and stupid and he shouldn't have cared, Butch tapped into his powers and focused his hearing on the pair. He figured Mitch must be telling her jokes or something, but was caught off guard when he realized that they were simply talking. Mitch had brought up a story from their Kindergarten days or something like that.

The realization should have calmed him; he was just telling her a story. Big deal, so what, who cares.

But for some reason it only served to further aggravate him. It aggravated him that Mitch could just sit there and share stories with Buttercup and it was enough to make her laugh. It aggravated him that he would never be able to do the same, because Butch didn't go to Kindergarten with Buttercup. No, while she and Mitch were playing together at recess and setting up stories that they would one day recall with fondness, Butch was throwing her through skyscrapers and slamming her into the ground.

Mitch played with her at recess. Butch had tried to kill her.

Although, personally, Butch wouldn't have changed a thing about their childhood. The past they shared had certainly been more thrilling, anyway. More exciting.

But the fact remained that Buttercup wasn't sitting beside him, laughing as he recalled that one time he'd thrown her through a building. She was sitting and laughing with Mitch. And for reasons that Butch didn't bother to dwell upon, that aggravated him. A lot.

"Dude, if you glare any harder you're going to shoot eyebeams," Boomer's voice broke through his thoughts.

A dark smirk played across his lips. "Eyebeams, huh? Not a bad idea, Boom."

Boomer's eyes widened. "Hold on, that wasn't a suggestion! Butch, don't-!"

Too late.

He was so quick that it was almost unnoticeable. A sharp red beam shot from his eyeballs and nailed Mitch on his elbow, burning the skin.

"OW!" Mitch exclaimed, nearly falling out of his chair. He cradled his elbow, absolutely dumbfounded as he stared at the harsh, seared flesh. "What the Hell?!" he cried. "How-what-?!"

It was perfect. Mitch stopped telling stories and Buttercup stopped laughing. Nobody knew that he was the one who emitted the eyebeam - or that there had even been an eyebeam in the first place. For all they knew, Mitch had accidently brushed some of the more acid liquids.

It was perfect. Or, at least, it would have been perfect, had Butch not burst into hysterical laughter and allowed Buttercup to piece two-and-two together.

Buttercup's eyes narrowed as she shot out of her chair. "You!" she snarled, as she pointed an accusatory finger at her counterpart.

Butch would have protested - tried to pass the blame onto Boomer or something - but he was still laughing too hard to get a coherent sentence out.

"What the heck is wrong with you?" she demanded.

"Do you want a list?" Boomer mumbled. He sounded ashamed of his brother, but the way he pressed a fist against his lips betrayed his amusement.

Butch was still laughing like the maniac he was, but gathered himself long enough to produce two, clear words: "Screw you". They didn't answer Buttercup's question or really even make sense considering the context, but he thought they were hilarious and burst into another bout of maniacal laughter.

Buttercup stared at her counterpart with unmasked hatred. She gritted her teeth, narrowed her lime-green eyes and crossed her arms against her chest. She looked threatening and scary and anybody else would have shrank away (or at least stopped laughing), but Butch was like no one else.

Actually, if anything, he only laughed harder.

"He is so hot," Julie Bean whispered. Buttercup's head snapped up to glare at the blonde, who immediately looked away, face flushed.

Mitch laid a hand on her shoulder, momentarily drawing Buttercup's attention away from her crazed counterpart. "Hey," he mumbled in her ear, "I'm gonna go have the nurse put some stuff on my elbow."

Buttercup's eyes softened; an action that did not go unnoticed by Butch, and therefore was not appreciated.

"Is it that bad?" she asked. Usually Mitch would rather tough things out; it was one of the things she liked most about him.

Mitch scoffed. "I was hit by a laser beam, Buttercup. Yeah, it's pretty bad."

"I'll fill out the worksheet for both of us, then," she said.

Mitch grinned, and shouldered her when he walked past. "You're the bomb, BC."

"Yeah yeah," the green 'puff mumbled fondly. She watched as her best friend exited the classroom, but once she was gone she felt a tingling sensation in the back of her head. She turned around and fixed Butch with a harsh glare. "What?" she demanded.

It was a simple word and should've been easily answered, except Butch wasn't exactly sure how to answer it. What was he supposed to say?

"Stop sitting and laughing with Mitch."

"You're too good for him, ya' know."

"You don't look at me the same way you look at him and that bothers me, but I don't know why. Also, I kinda wanna beat the crap outta Mitch and then maybe make-out with you, which is also weird (well, the second part isn't actually so weird, I'm kinda used to that one now)."

"Hey, remember that time I threw you into a skyscraper and gave you a concussion? Fun times, right?"

Yeah. None of those were options.

Besides, Butch preferred to punch his way out of situations rather than use his words. It was just easier that way. He wasn't great with words, but he could knock someone out with just one throw.

Oh. Oh hey, that was an idea.

Just as Buttercup opened her mouth to say something, Butch shot up and punched her square in her jaw, and sent her rocketing backwards onto a table. Beakers full of green and blue liquid spilled onto the floor and papers scattered across the ground, but Buttercup hardly paid them a glance.

Instead she released a dangerous growl and launched herself at her counterpart, ensuring a fight.

By the time their teacher walked in, two tables had been completely crushed and there was a new hole in the ceiling.

Butch kisses a girl. Said girl kisses him back. Said girl isn't Buttercup, so naturally all Hell breaks loose.

The fight eventually ended when Blossom and Brick were summoned to the scene to break their tussling siblings apart. In the privacy of the hallway, Blossom gave her impulsive sister another lecture about 'being the better person' and 'ignoring that pig'.

Brick made multiple death threats. Butch rolled his eyes and retorts rolled off his tongue with practiced ease, but ultimately he agreed to behave.

Things were back to normal.

Exactly one week later, and that was no longer the case.

Now, Butch had always been a massive player. When he wasn't busy causing trouble he was chasing skirts, and while his behavior had always bothered Buttercup, lately it bothered her for an entirely different reason.

That reason used to be because she hated the way Butch eyed girls like they were a piece of meat; the smug smirk he wore whenever he flirted with him was disgusting.

These days, it was because he flirted with girls. Period.

Not because he was a jerk about it; not because he was crude; not because females were more than just boobs and a butt.

It was because every time she caught him winking at a girl or talking some chick up, it sent her blood spiking. She would grit her teeth and bite her tongue and clench her fist and she didn't know why. (Er, well, she had an idea as to why. She just didn't like it, so she ignored it.)

But the fact remained that something had changed, and it was aggravating the life out of her.

Jealousy is a Good Look on You

Despite everything, Buttercup had resolved to simply ignore Butch. Whatever had shifted between them would fade eventually, and besides, Buttercup really wasn't in the mood for another one of Blossom's lectures. So whenever she was around Butch, she would grit her teeth and clench her fists and that would be all. No more fighting in the courtyard, arguing in the classroom; she was a Powerpuff Girl after all, and was expected to maintain a certain standard.

She could do this. Butch couldn't make her do anything she didn't want to do.

She stuck to that mindset and it served her well for a few days, until one day, after soccer practice, she rounded a corner and nearly crashed into Butch, who was currently sucking face with Julie Bean.

Superhuman reflexes allowed Buttercup to skid to a halt before she crashed into the pair, but it did nothing to soothe her boiling blood.

For a moment she simply stood there, her feet glued to the floor. The green 'puff clenched her jaw, balled her fists and bit her tongue so hard she tasted blood. One… two… three… she counted in her head, willing for her boiling blood to cool. It's just Butch! He isn't worth getting so worked up over! She could practically hear Blossom's voice.

For a second Buttercup thought it was working. She could gradually feel her fists unclenching and her mind clearing. She was gripping her control with both hands.

That is, until Butch pulled away from Julie and noticed his furious counterpart. For a moment lime-green glared into emerald green, and then Butch had the audacity to smirk and wink at her!

Suddenly that control that Buttercup had been holding onto so tightly snapped in her hands.

Without thinking she snarled and threw herself at Butch, hurling them both down the hallway, and leaving a stunned Julie Bean behind them.

Butch couldn't make her do anything she didn't want to do, but he sure could piss her off and make it worth her while.

Butch realizes that making-out with the cheerleaders has lost its' charm, and he wholeheartedly blames Buttercup.

Julie Bean.

Allison "Allie" Gator.

April May.

Cara Sell.

Paige Turner.

Candace "Candy" Barr.

Five of the hottest cheerleaders in all of Townsville High School (Allie had a weird, narrow nose, so she wasn't that hot, but a cheerleader nonetheless). Butch made out with all six of them, went a little bit further with a few of them, and yet he wasn't satisfied.

Normally when making out with a hot girl, things happened. Adrenaline made his heartbeat speed up, his blood start to rush, and the world around him began to blur and quiet. Butch could get into a good make-out sesh.

But lately, making-out with hot girls had become almost… boring. He didn't get that familiar hormonal rush anymore, the one that he practically lived for.

At first he thought maybe there was something wrong with Julie Bean, but five girls later and Butch was starting to worry that there was something wrong with him. Maybe he was losing his touch?

… Nah.

But if it wasn't the girls and it wasn't him, then what the heck was it?

Butch actually didn't have to mull over it for long, thank God. Whenever anything went wrong in his life, it was usually thanks to that bangin' counterpart of his.

Somehow this was all Buttercup's fault, of that much he was sure of.

Jealousy Looks Good on You

Butch was determined to get answers, and fast. He had a date with Eileen Dover that Thursday, and was banking on getting to at least second base with her. Of course, that would mean nothing if Butch couldn't even enjoy kissing the girl.

It didn't take him long to find Buttercup. She was on the soccer field practicing with some of her teammates, but as soon as she saw him storming across the field she stopped.

"Hold on guys," she called to her teammates, grabbing the ball. The other girls stood up and followed her glare, and Butch didn't miss the way that every single one of them immediately perked up and started fixing their hair, giggling to themselves.

Butch didn't resist the smug grin that worked across his lips, and Buttercup didn't bother masking her eye-roll. By this point she was used to the attention that the brothers received from girls, pathetic as it was.

"What do you want?" she growled at him. "We're busy."

Butch snickered. "Your teammates don't seem to mind the interruption."

Buttercup crossed her arms against her chest, her already-limited patience rapidly dwindling. "Can I help you with something, or are you just here to waste my time?"

"Actually," Butch drawled, "now that you mention it, there is something you can help me with." His emerald-green eyes suddenly narrowed. "Why does making-out suck?" he demanded.

Buttercup arched an eyebrow. "Because… that's how you do it? It's called 'sucking face' for a reason, idiot."

"Not literally!" he snapped. "I mean- making-out is suddenly really boring, and I can't get into it. Why?"

His counterpart rubbed her temples, frustrated. "God Butch, I don't know! Maybe you're doing something wrong-"

"Impossible-"

"-But if you're that concerned about it, I dunno, go see a doctor or something," she finished, rolling her eyes. "I don't know why you came to me about that, but there's my advice."

Butch snorted. "Are you serious? 'Go see a doctor'? C'mon Butters, stop screwing around and tell me what you did to me!"

Buttercup blinked, taken back. "Wait... you think this is my fault?! Why?"

This time it was Butch who rolled his eyes. "Don't play stupid with me, Buttercup. Everything that ever goes wrong in my life is because of you!"

Butch expected his counterpart to start fuming, to start shouting about how he was an idiot or something. Heck, he half-expected her to just punch him in the face and then get back to her soccer practice.

He didn't expect a genuine grin to play across across her lips, then ask, "Hold on: are you saying I'm the reason you can't get it up?" She sounded way too proud of herself for that, like she was the only girl who could get him going.

A few months ago he might have been offended, like how dare she imply that he wanted her! He might've gotten defensive, thrown a punch or just gagged.

But something had changed between them, and now the notion didn't make him wanna barf or punch her in the face. Instead he actually laughed, and she laughed with him, even as he ground out, "Ugh, in your wet dreams, you dyke!"

A few months ago she would have smacked him for that. Now she smirked and retorted, "You're just mad 'cause you can't get none of this," as she gestured to herself. And hey, since she was practically inviting him to, Butch openly ogled her for a moment.

On Butch's list of favorite uniforms, the soccer uniforms were his third favorite. They weren't as tight as the volleyball ones or as little and revealing as the cheerleader ones, but they were definitely appreciated. A fitted t-shirt that perfectly traced their form, highlighting curves and a toned stomach, and a small, flexible pair of shorts that displayed a generous amount of leg. It absolutely helped that this particular uniform was worn by Buttercup Utonium, the most athletic girl in school (probably on the planet), who undoubtedly had bangin' body.

When Butch finally tore his eyes away from her body and back to her face, he didn't miss the way her eyes gleamed, or the subtle way she bit her lip.

Mhmm, those lips. Suddenly Butch was faced with the very real desire to pull his counterpart towards them and bite those lips himself.

"Like what you see?" Buttercup teased, although that gleam in her eyes was a little less teasing and a little more real…

Butch relaxed, shoulders' loosening as a lazy smirk worked its way across his lips. "You wish," he shot back, even as he gave her another once-over.

He was vaguely aware of the fact that her teammates were watching them intently, waiting to see whether they were going to duke it out on the soccer field or drag each other behind the bleachers.

The latter was a very real possibility, Butch realized. Usually it was just a fantasy that he liked to entertain, but now, as a different kind of tension built between them and Buttercup applied a bit more pressure to her lower lip, he was reminded that something had shifted between them. He still wasn't sure what, but the desire to kiss her breathless had returned, and for once it seemed like she had the same idea.

"Who've you been kissing?" Buttercup suddenly asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. She was smirking at him, lip still between her teeth, and Butch idly wondered if maybe she was teasing him on purpose. "Maybe for once, you're not the problem. Maybe you're just sucking face with the wrong girls."

He liked where this was going. Counting the girls off on his fingers, he listed, "Julie Bean, April May, Candy Barr-"

"Ah, that's your problem," Buttercup declared. "Cheerleaders. Don't tell Bubbles this, but cheerleaders are just eye-candy. They're not actually any good at the fun stuff."

"Oh yeah?" Butch mused, smirk a little less lazy and a little more hungry. "What about soccer players?"

Her smirk matched his own, igniting a fire in his stomach. "Are you kidding? Soccer players are the best."

Oh yeah, behind the bleachers was a very real option.

She's totally into me, he thought smugly. The way her eyes flickered around his muscular body, the way her voice had lowered, like they were sharing a secret; the way she was still biting that lip.

It would be a heat-of-the-moment thing, and they would probably have another fist fight as soon as things cooled off, but Butch didn't care. She was there and he could have her and he wanted her-

Or.

He was still aware of their curious onlookers, who watched them with wide eyes and baited breaths. Most of the girls looked jealous, which did nothing to humble his ego.

He and Buttercup could ditch the field and go fool around somewhere, or Butch could resort to his first love and pull a fast one on her.

Honestly, once he had the idea, he couldn't get it out of his head. Ever since he was five years old, one of his favorite pastimes was to piss his counterpart off, to catch her off guard. No matter what had shifted between them, that would never change.

He took a step towards her. "You really think so?" he murmured, voice husky. "And I'm just supposed to take your word for it?"

Her eyes met his. "Wanna find out for yourself?" she asked.

Butch smirked, leaned down so that they were practically nose-to-nose, and then murmured, "Doesn't sound like such a bad idea…" their lips were only inches apart when he abruptly pulled away, looked over Buttercup's shoulder and called, "Hey, Carrie! Meet me at the bleachers once practice is over, 'kay?"

Carri Oki, one of the more attractive soccer players, blinked in surprise before she grinned like a lovestruck fool and nodded vigorously. "Uh, sure! I'll be there!"

Butch overheard some of the other girls muttering bitterly under their breaths, ("lucky dog!" "ugh, it's not fair!" and "hold on, doesn't Carrie have a boyfriend?") and he couldn't help but stretch his grin and thank God for superhuman hearing.

He turned back to his counterpart, who was absolutely furious. Buttercup's jaw was clenched and her nails were digging into her fists; her lime green eyes blazed. She never was one to enjoy being tricked or one-upped, and her reaction made it all the sweeter.

"Thanks for the idea, Butters," Butch remarked airily, unable to resist cackling as his counterpart seethed. "I'll be sure to give you my review tomorrow morning."

He knew it would only further piss Buttercup off if he didn't let her salvage her dignity, so he spun around and started lazily, smugly across the field and back to the school.

Superhuman hearing blessed him again. As he strolled off, he heard Buttercup order, "Carrie, switch positions with Amber. I think you'd make a great goalie."

Butch couldn't help but cackle madly.

Jealousy Looks Good on You

"You did what?" Blossom snarled.

From where she was icing her knee on the floor, Buttercup rolled her eyes. "Chill out, leader girl. It's just a black-eye and a busted lip. It'll heal!"

"Carrie doesn't have superhuman healing properties, in case you've forgotten," her sister hissed. "What would only take a few minutes for you will take days for her!"

Blossom was wearing down her patience fast. "Okay, so maybe I kicked the ball a little harder than necessary, and maybe I shouldn't have been so rough with an inexperienced goalie. But still," Buttercup declared, "I'm in the right on this one!"

Her sister flipped her long auburn hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms against her chest. "I fail to see how."

"She's probably sucking face right now with my man!" Buttercup exclaimed. Months, even weeks ago the declaration would have been impossible to utter, but something had shifted between her and Butch, and now the words felt right. Hell, getting them off her tongue was almost a relief.

Blossom raised an eyebrow. "Your man?" she echoed.

"Yep."

"Uh-huh," Blossom drawled, in an eerie sort of manner that reminded her of Brick. "I wasn't aware that you and Butch were romantic with one another."

Buttercup shrugged. "Eh, it's more of a sexual tension thing versus a romantic thing," she ignored her sister's scowl at that, "but still, that counts! Carrie overstepped her boundaries."

"Butch is the one who invited her to the bleachers."

"Yeah," Buttercup muttered, green eyes narrowing. "He's got a weird sense of humor."

"How was Carrie supposed to know that you were interested in Butch?" Blossom pressed, desperate for Buttercup to look at things logically. "I mean, you threw him across the gym for smacking your butt!" (Not that she necessarily disagreed with how Buttercup had handled that particular advance…)

"That was ages ago!"

"That that last week."

"Exactly," Buttercup agreed. "Practically ancient history."

Blossom groaned, frustrated.

"How would you feel if it was Brick?" The green 'puff challenged. "Don't act like you wouldn't flip out if some girl was all over him!"

Blossom's cherry-pink eyes sharped. "Brick and I are simply friends, and most days we aren't even that," she said. Her tone was so cold that her breath produced frost.

Buttercup snorted. "Sure. That's why you're always over at their house, right?"

"We're working on an English project together!" Her sister snapped defensively. "It's purely for school-related purposes!"

"Riiiigghhht. Did your teacher assign those partners, or were you allowed to pick your own?"

"I- We-," Blossom stammered, as a blush rose to her cheeks. "Oh, never mind! I don't know why I thought you could look at this sensibly!" And with that, the leader of the Powerpuff Girls stormed to their bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

Buttercup leaned back against the couch and exhaled, beyond annoyed. "Stupid Blossom," she grumbled to herself, as she continued icing her knee. "Acting all high and mighty, like she's better than me, like she wouldn't be upset. I know her. If Carrie Oki was making-out with Brick behind the bleachers she would explode! She'd-"

And then, brilliance struck.

A way to get back at Butch and beat him at his own game, and a way to knock Blossom down a few self-righteous pegs.

And everyone said that Blossom was the smart one. Hah!

Jealousy Looks Good on You

Although she would never admit it, Buttercup was extremely picky about what she wore, even more so than Bubbles. She refused to wear anything remotely dainty or girly, and anything in the pink/purple spectrum was out. She had a reputation to uphold, after all; she was the toughest fighter. She couldn't afford to be seen in anything that would compromise her title.

But desperate times called for desperate measures, and it was time to force herself out of her comfort zone. And who better to assist her in such a challenge than her trendy, fashion-obsessed sister?

"Butterrrcuupppp!" Bubbles squealed, practically bouncing with glee. "You look like fire!"

"That's a good thing, right?" Buttercup checked, as she analyzed her outfit in their mirror. She looked… different. Not necessarily bad, but different.

Black shorts that absolutely did not abide by the school's fingertip-length rule, that the Professor would burn as soon as he laid eyes on them. They were tight and not exactly flexible, but they made her butt look killer, so they were worth it. A figure-hugging lime-green shirt was tucked into her shorts and, at Bubbles' urging, she'd ditched the tank-top that went with it and now her bra was visible, in a way that her blonde sister swore was "totally in". Green high-tops were on her feet along with a few subtle anklets.

At her insistence, Buttercup had been allowed to throw her shoulder-length hair into a ponytail. But Bubbles had stepped up and pulled at it until it had an attractive, messy look to it, until it was nearly falling out.

"What's the point of putting it up if you're just gonna do that to it?" Buttercup had grumbled.

As for make-up, Buttercup hadn't been so easy. Bubbles insisted on doing a full face of the junk, promising to make it subtle, but the green 'puff had refused. She finally allowed Bubbles to flick on some mascara, but that was where she drew the line.

"Do you like it?" Bubbles asked, baby-blue eyes hopeful.

Buttercup shrugged. "It's not as bad as I thought it would be. Definitely not my skinny jeans or athletic shorts, and I would really prefer a t-shirt-" she glanced at her sister, who shook her head sternly, then sighed, "-but I don't hate it. I guess it's still me."

"It's you in a pair of short shorts-"

"Really short shorts-"

"That you absolutely have the legs for, and a low-cut shirt. Same Buttercup style, though. Simple, like you didn't put a whole lot of effort into it."

"That is not my style," Buttercup snapped.

Bubbles smiled sweetly. "Of course not. So, whose attention are you trying to catch?"

Buttercup heasiated. "It's… complicated."

"Is it Butch?" Her blonde sister asked, unable to keep from squealing. "Me and Boomer have a bet going to see how long it'll take for you two to finally hook-up!"

"Hey!" she snarled. "You and your boyfriend keep your noses out of my business!"

Bubbles didn't correct her and protest that she and Boomer were merely friends (unlike Blossom, Bubbles was not in a state of denial and completely owned up to her crush on the blue 'ruff). Instead she practically beamed as she demanded, "It is Butch, isn't it! You're dressing up for him!"

Buttercup gave her reflection one last glance and muttered, "Something like that."

Buttercup decides to aim low when it's her turn to strike. It doesn't hurt that Brick is hot.

When Buttercup strolled confidently across the hallway towards him, Butch wanted to howl. Soccer uniforms were great and all, but they had nothing on a pair of short shorts that were designed to make a girl's butt look like a slice of heaven. The fact that it was also his first time seeing Buttercup in something other than a t-shirt or a hoodie was almost too much. The way her hair swung playfully in its' messy ponytail coupled with the fact that her bright green eyes really seemed to pop?

Oh yeah. Howling was definitely an appropriate response.

When Buttercup walked past him without so much as a glance, he felt jipped. The hell did she think she was going, looking like that? If she was on the hunt for Mitch, Butch swore, he would murder the guy.

When Buttercup approached Brick and Blossom, he relaxed. Okay, she's just talking to her sister-

When Buttercup wrapped her arms around Brick's neck, his eyes bulged out of his head. No no no, there's no way she's-

When Buttercup smashed her lips against his brothers, his heart stopped beating.

Brick, too stunned to think straight, didn't pull away. Blossom's jaw dropped, but it was like the sight had deactivated her brain, because she didn't pry them apart. Boomer and Bubbles, who'd been following Buttercup, both gasped, then spun around and ran for their lives.

And Butch? Well. He exploded.

Hello, and welcome to my first PPG fic (well, two-shot)!

The Greens are my favorite poison and I've had this ol' thing sitting in my Google docs for about a year now, untouched, so I finally decided to post it! It was intended to be a long one-shot, but since it's uncompleted, I've just decided to split it up and see if the rest of the fandom even likes it. If not... it'll probably remain a one-shot as well as my sole PPG entry. *nervous laughter*

With that being said, I hope you guys enjoyed it!