NOT MY TYPE by katocchi


5. She has a fucking fan club.


Brick has a long, long list of things he can't stand, and Valentine's Day has always ranked high, even above the Powerpuff Girls during the height of their rivalry. Scowling, he shoves down the urge to burn the stupid heart-shaped confetti, the stupid V-Day Dance posters, the stupid bouquets. God, the bouquets. The stench of perfumed roses is going to haunt him for the rest of the week.

Maybe he can fake a cough, aim a small fireball at a paper garland, set off the sprinklers―

"Brick! Hey, wait up!"

Ah, and here comes the fairy of holiday cheer herself, determined to weave through his prickly demeanor and strike him directly in the stomach. He sighs. Best get it done and over with now. Brick spins on his heel and comes face-to-face with Bubbles, wicker basket hooked onto her elbow as expected.

She lowers herself to the ground. "I made these with Robin last night, so congrats, you're the first to get yours!" She hands him a drawstring bag, reusable and fire-engine red. "It's chili chocolate―dark chocolate, just how you like it."

He peers into her ridiculously frilly basket. Pink, two shades of green, purple, yellow, brown, and white. Bubbles is big on color coordination, so the absence of a certain navy blue is glaringly obvious, and if he's the first to get his chocolates...

Tossing and catching the bag as he decides whether to meddle, Brick finally groans and tilts his head towards a quiet corner of the hallway, far from the love-induced buzz. Her smile falters as she follows, already knowing what he's going to ask. Good, he doesn't want to make this more awkward than necessary.

He guides her towards the wall and stands so that his taller stature blocks her from view.

"You two still fighting?" he asks quietly. Non-accusatory. Boomer is his brother and Jojos stick up for each other, but Bubbles is practically his little sister at this point, taken under the Jojo wing.

"Yeah, we are," she chirps. There's a wobble in her tone that bleeds through despite her efforts. Blinking away the tears forming, she gives him a sorry excuse of a smile. "It's silly, isn't it? I wanted to call him yesterday and apologize, but I couldn't. I can't. It's not something I can genuinely say sorry for because I won't stop doing it."

Of course not. She's a Powerpuff Girl and has been a Townsville hero since she was born. For her, saving the day is both nature and nurture, so someone born and raised a Rowdyruff Boy―redemption aside―can't understand the selflessness that comes from being one of the sisters. Boomer might be the nicest of the Jojos and the first to work towards repentance, but even he has his limitations.

He doesn't go out of his way to volunteer or help old people cross the street out of the goodness of his heart. Bubbles does. This difference was going to rear its head eventually.

"I know." Brick pats her head, careful to avoid her pink-bowed pigtails, and even though her trembling pout was a clear sign, he still flinches when she buries her face in his shirt. The fabric dampens immediately. Oh god, he hates it when girls cry. "If it makes you feel any better, he's been moping around the house all weekend, looking like a kicked puppy. And they say I'm the one born from puppy dog tails."

He pauses. Her sniffling gets stronger.

"He understands, y'know. He was just tired of having your dates interrupted. Boomer hates making you upset."

Her shoulders don't stop shaking.

"And you know how we're idiots. He's an even bigger idiot than Butch and I combined when it comes to you."

Faintly, he wonders if he'll need to wring his shirt out in the bathroom after this. No, he thinks, scowling, it's about Bubbles right now.

...still, what would be faster: the hand dryers or his fire breath?

"I bet by lunchtime he'll run through the school, throw flowers by your feet, and scream a dumb Roses are red, violets are blue poem that he wrote on his hand. Except he sweats so hard, the words are all smeared."

A broken whimper, then a watery giggle. Almost there.

"Do you think he'll be wearing mismatched socks? Maybe he was so distracted this morning he forgot to put on pants. Gets dress-coded and detention for being a lovesick dweeb."

"Oh, Brick, that's awful," she says, but her crying fades into another giggle.

He pats her hair one more time before stepping back. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay." She smiles wide. "Needed to get myself together. Thanks."

Her voice is noticeably more stable, but her makeup needs to be touched up. Or so he thinks; he doesn't pay attention to these things. He takes off his cap and presses it onto her head, pulling the front down to cover her face and then pulling it down further to make her squeak indignantly. Younger him would never let anyone touch his hat, not even his brothers. To give it to a Powerpuff of all people? This has to be the clearest sign of character growth, the most concrete evidence of his changed ways.

"Anytime, Bubs. Who's the next person on your chocolate hit list?"

"Hm, maybe Blossom so I can get her away from her fan club," she says, righting the hat and tapping her chin. "I think I passed by them earlier. It was hard to tell with all the balloons and flowers in the way. They really went all out this year."

She digs around in her wicker basket for the pink bag, not noticing the way Brick's spine straightens. Eyes flying around the hallway, he tries to spot the horde of buffoons who think they have a chance with his counterpart. It's only to stop them from making fools of themselves in front of the entire student body. Clearly. Obviously. Isn't that what any reformed villain would do?

"Why are they even bothering? She's dating what's-his-face, isn't she?" Brick frowns, recalling the kid. Taller than her. Brown hair. Some jock he never learned the name and face of because he has better things to do.

"Julian? They broke up last night. I don't know how word got around so fast, but I don't want her to deal with the fan club on top of how she's already feeling." She looks up at Brick, no sign of having cried except for a bit of mascara streaked under her lashes. He wipes at it with a thumb. Fucking Disney princess. "Actually, would you like to come with me?"

A look crosses her face, one he can't read. Whenever he can't read Bubbles's intentions, it's likely something he won't like, but he has to admit that he is pretty curious about the situation. And it's to help Blossom, which helps him in a way. He can't pick fights with her if she's preoccupied with hormone-driven idiots who don't have the emotional capacity or respect to let a girl nurse a broken heart in peace.

He rocks back on his heels. "What's in it for me?"

"My undying loyalty and gratefulness?" She flutters her eyelashes.

"One, that doesn't fill my stomach, and two, that cutesy act only works on Boomer."

"I'll cook you dinner."

"Make it a week's worth and you got a deal."

"Three dinners and Blossom's birthday wish list, final offer."

He stares at her outstretched hand for a solid minute before taking it reluctantly. "You drive a hard bargain, Utonium."

She giggles, sidestepping him and flouncing away. It's early early this morning, though you can barely tell with the amount of students milling about. Brick ducks and avoids the swinging arms of a giant stuffed bear. If it wasn't for Butch's obnoxious insistence on being at school, Brick would still be in bed like Boomer. Wrapped in blankets instead of gulping coffee just to feel something. To be fair, Boomer has been too busy sulking to sleep properly, but still. Blankets. Pillows. Sleep.

"It's the best time of the year, Boss," Butch declared to the brightening sky, slinging an arm around Brick's shoulders. "Ladies throwing their love and affection at ya, fighting each other to be yours? To be mine! Who doesn't love a good cat fight and free chocolate? And don't get me started on the food. D'ya know how much money I save with couples' specials?"

"If you don't shut up, I'm going back upstairs and you can fly yourself to school," Brick said.

"What! But I spent so much time on my hair today!"

Stupid Butch. He's around here somewhere, chasing after his fans or whatever.

It takes a few minutes of meandering the halls to reach Blossom's locker, but once he catches sight of her, Brick nearly trips over his own feet.

Can you blame him, though? Blossom rarely dresses outside of her usual color scheme of reds, pinks, and neutrals. Faintly, he recalls her mentioning an exception. Something about not wanting to be a walking Valentine's Day decoration, so she switches with Bubbles, who has no qualms about it. Brick looks at the girl beside him. He should've noticed her heart-and-lace themed dress earlier. Blossom is the blue sister now, wearing a pastel sweater that suits her shockingly well considering her vibrant hair.

But then again, Blossom is pretty. Objectively. Brick is only stating a fact of the universe.

Blossom's gaze is fixed on her bag as she gets her books for the day. The gifts shoved into her face don't help, and Brick's jaw clicks at how she curls inwards, shying away from the onslaught of fans. She shouldn't be overwhelmed like this. As Bubbles skips forward with a radiant yet tense smile, protectiveness rolling off of her in waves, he briefly wonders if today's the day the youngest Powerpuff decks someone.

"Hi, everyone!" she sings at the crowd's edge. "Do you mind leaving Bloss alone so she can get to class?"

In the face of Bubbles's cheer, their energy melts, and they part slowly. Again, fucking Disney princess. But one boy, the one closest to Blossom, one Brick doesn't recognize, shakes the bouquet in his hands. Loose petals fall onto Blossom's shoes.

"It's Valentine's Day! It's the only day we can try to win her heart!" He tries pushing the flowers into her arms. "Please, Blossom, one picnic?"

"No, don't go with him! Go with me—movies? Dinner?"

"Wait, I have chocolates for you—"

The group surges forward again, pushing Bubbles back into Brick's chest. Blossom, at the center of it all, flinches. Flinches.

His counterpart can tear metal apart with her hands. Keep her cool with Butch's lewd flirting. Freeze over the entire city with her breath. Hold her own against his arguments. Destroy a rampaging monster and sit down for an exam ten minutes later. Goddamnit, he can go on forever. But his counterpart—his fucking counterpart, confidence personified—intimidated by people she can decimate with a single blink?

Yeah, fuck this.

He shoves through the students, ignoring their protests, until Blossom's standing behind him. One hand clasps her bag, the other the back of his shirt.

"Oi, only losers think that Valentine's Day is the only day for anything," he snarls, drawing himself to his full height. It's not as impressive as his brothers' towering frames, but he's still Brick Jojo, which earns him a wide berth. "Tips for idiots who think a stupid holiday is the perfect chance to pick up a girl: you should be making her feel special every day of the year. And if you're going to get her a gift, at least make it unique."

He grabs the nearest teddy bear. Small and white, holding onto a lace heart—it dangles between two fingers.

"I've seen four of these shits on the walk over alone. If you've ever bothered to listen to Blossom at all, you'd know that today's her least favorite holiday. Thinks its commercialization is dumb. She doesn't even wear her signature color to distance herself from it. So don't use today as an excuse to harass her and act like a bunch of entitled assholes. Would you go this far if she was single any other time of the year?"

The crowd shrinks back at his words. Blossom is still gripping his shirt.

He jabs a thumb at her. "And of all the girls in Townsville, this one deserves more than the universe can give her. If you can't pledge a fraction of that, get the hell out of my sight."

The tiniest spark of fire. It lands on the first boy's roses—roses, how cliché—and eats up the flowers. By the time the kid recovers and throws the bunch to the ground, it's frozen over with a layer of frost and Blossom's head is held high again, heels clicking against tile as she steps up.

She flicks her hair back. "Brick is right," she says, voice level and demanding respect.

He hovers against the lockers as she addresses the fan club, chin raised like she's at a press conference or another public appearance. This is Blossom in her element. Carrying the weight of the town on her shoulders, refusing to buckle under everyone's expectations. He wishes people would stop thinking that she's invincible, though; she's still a teenager beneath all the superpowers. A teenager who overthinks the What ifs, even if they're a little different than others.

What if I lose my powers? What if I stop being a hero? What if I didn't get to that school bus in time? Didn't catch that building? Didn't beat that monster? What if I fail everyone, Brick? Make the wrong call? Lose everyone over a mistake? What would I do then?

Leave town, he replied, though it had an ending lilt of uncertainty.

A soft, sad, faraway look. I can't do that.

"Scram!" He scowls over her shoulder once she finishes her speech.

Like a fucking lap dog, Butch would guffaw. In his peripheral, he catches what may be Bubbles recording everything on her phone.

Flames spill from his mouth and flicker in the air. Far from the nearest student but close enough to scare them into hightailing it out of there. Most of them keep their gifts, but some drop them, leaving behind a trail of generic pink shit that get trampled over in their haste. None of them are worth Blossom's attention anyway.

There's one boy remaining, holding carnations. Blossom's favorites, so one point for him, but that doesn't mean—

"Bloss?" He offers the flowers hesitantly.

Bloss? Who does he think he is? Brick shifts, but Blossom's arm shoots out first, blocking him.

"Julian."

"Listen, can we talk about yesterday?" His eyes flicker to Brick. "I want to apologize and talk things out."

Oh, so this is ex-lover boy. Brick looks between them, stopping at Blossom for confirmation, and when she nods firmly, he nods back. "Alright, I'll see you later," he mumbles.

"Thanks, Brick." She shoots him a grateful smile, fingers fluttering in a quiet good-bye, before heading over to the fidgeting athlete.

Guess that's that. He makes his way towards Bubbles, still standing at the same spot during the whole ordeal. She watches him with her head tilted, face in that undecipherable expression. When he gets close enough, she takes off his cap and reaches up to place it back on his hair.

"What?" he grumbles, crossing his arms. He hates this look. Makes him feel like he's being judged, picked apart in her unicorn- and cotton candy-filled brain.

"Nothing! Where are ya heading?"

"Getting some food." Morning traffic shouldn't be too bad now; he can probably go out and be back in time for class.

"Oh, are you going to the breakfast diner?" She falls into step beside him, wiggling her hand into his elbow. "Can we get some hot chocolate and cookies?"

"We?"

"Yeah!"

"Fine, but I'm not paying for you."

"I'll give you Blossom's Christmas list if you do." Silence. "Is that a yes?"

"...fine. What's so funny?"

Bubbles giggles, glancing down at his chest. "Y'know your shirt had a huge wet spot this entire time?"


a/n.

oh jeez, this was hard to write. i had the base idea—brick defending blossom from her fans and dropping that line about her deserving the world—but the rest of it didn't fall into place the way i wanted it to. even with all the revising, i'm not completely satisfied with it, but i wanted bubbles in this chapter. while the blues are super cute, i figure they disagree about priorities, having been raised differently. brick is the unwilling mediator / couple's counselor. i love his reluctant friendship with bubbles. i want to add buttercup and the other siblings in here somewhere! if not in this collection, then perhaps in future spin-offs.

we're halfway through! leave a comment if you liked :) and if any guests want responses, you can reach out on tumblr (aerysian) because ffn sucks :((

next chapter: she's always fucking early. mar 22, 2021

aeris

TROPE BINGO: Comically Small Bribe