This is my favourite one guys. I hope you enjoy it too :3 I don't own anything.


#8: Not being able to stay mad at each other: Greens.

Buttercup's eyes widened at the sight of her favourite soccer ball -the green one with the black hexagons- lying limp and useless at the bottom of the front porch steps.

"What the fuck?!" she exclaimed, gingerly scooping up the destroyed ball in her arms and whirling around furiously. Her night vision allowed her to search the front yard for any evidence of what may have happened. Nobody was in sight but the dark haired, green eyed mischief that was Butch Jojo. Buttercup narrowed her eyes at him. He grinned sheepishly.

"It was an accident?" He tried hopefully, tugging the corners of his lips into a faint smile. Buttercup wasn't buying it. The smoke was practically visible oozing out of her ears as she tossed the useless soccer ball skin to the ground and tackled Butch.

Buttercup threw a few punches to his gut, his face, his chest, everywhere, crying out angrily with each blow. "You! Broke! My! Best! Soccer! Ball! You! Asshole!"

Butch tried to shield himself from her punches but she was too quick for him. After about fifty trillion more fists to the face and stomach, Buttercup finally paused to take a breath and Butch scrambled to his feet, backing as far away from the psychotic Buttercup.

"It was totally a mistake, I swear!" He spluttered desperately, before she could stalk forward another inch. "It was just lying there in the driveway when I pulled in..."

He trailed off when her threatening glare did not falter. He sighed. "Oh, come on, BC, you'll get over it, it's just a stupid ball..."

Apparently that was not the smartest thing to have said, because in seconds, he was down on his knees again, shielding his teeth from her fists.

When at last the punching died down and Buttercup resorted to glaring at him once again, he sat up, crossing his legs over themselves and stared up at her with wide, sparkling emerald eyes. His expression begged for her forgiveness, and her frown twitched at the edges, causing her to look away from his face before she smiled.

"I'm sorry, BC," Butch mumbled, his eyes pressing into the side of her face as she watched a car whir by down the block in the distance.

She sighed. "I hate you so much," she muttered in response, sighing and making to snatch the torn soccer ball from the ground beside him. As she bent down, he grasped her wrist in his hand and she turned, reluctantly, to face him. That famous, Butch-y grin was plastered wide on his face.

"I love you too," he replied, sharply yanking her arm and sending her tumbling down onto the grass with him. She punched him in the arm, but lightly this time, and he opened his mouth in a silent, fake scream. "Aowch, that's my soccer-playing arm!"

Buttercup stared at him with an unreadable expression. "Fuck you."

He grinned.


Yes, I KNOW you don't use your arms for soccer. That's what makes it funny. Don't hate. u.u