disclaimer: nah.
dedication: to chokecherries bc she is seriously one of my best friends on here and i love her to bits. plus she's a superstar, go check out her stories, you won't regret it.
notes: no superpowers, all human with human features (i actually have cast ideas as to who they look like), and the ppg/rrb are 16
playlist for chapter: House on Fire by Ryan Cabrera

title: quality joe

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When everything is bought and sold
In the end, you're the only thing that's gold

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She has never seen so much rain in her life. Blossom swears it's just rainy season, the storms will stop eventually, and while she's right about it being rainy season, Buttercup is highly doubtful that said rain will go away anytime soon. In fact, she's surprised Townsville hasn't been washed clean off the map at this point.

But, she has to admit, the stormy weather is good for business. More people seeking something warm to drink and sweet to eat, which prompts them to stop by the Utonium family's coffee shop. Technically, it's more of a café, they serve food here too (mostly sweet stuff – assorted doughnuts, croissants, and other pastries), but it started out as a coffee shop and their coffee is somewhat famous, so. Coffee shop it remains.

Her family's coffee shop, Thanks a Latte, is a little place with big street cred. Besides having a kickass punny name, it's one of the best coffee shops in Townsville, not counting the name brand companies like Starbucks. Buttercup shudders at the thought of buying coffee from a place like that. At least here they brew (and bake) everything with love. The Utoniums do it because they love it, not because some greedy CEO wants them to squeeze every available penny out of every customer.

Like Blossom says, name brand coffee is overpriced and overrated.

Name brand coffee shops don't have booths tucked away in corners and along windows; they don't have tables worn smooth and shiny from years of happy and relaxed patrons; they don't have white fairy lights hanging from the ceiling and candles on the tables giving off a soft, warm glow. They don't serve their drinks in ceramic mugs or their food on plates with colorful swirl designs, courtesy of Bubbles. Their coffee doesn't come with art on the surface of the still steaming liquid, and their customers don't leave feeling rushed or irritated at the world. Thanks a Latte's visitors come in for a warm drink and a sweet treat, they stay for the cozy atmosphere and softly playing music, and they leave with smiles on their faces and a lightness in their hearts.

Buttercup takes great pride in her family's little coffee shop, and she knows her sisters cherish it as much as she does, as much as their late mother did. Their father loves it too, but he loves his girls just a little bit more. He makes sure to tell her and her sisters that almost every day.

Buttercup glances back to the swinging door that leads to the kitchen, where the Professor is most likely baking more croissants – they were running low out front. The youngest of her sisters, Bubbles, is sitting at a table, bent over her sketchbook and humming along to the music flowing from the speakers hidden throughout the shop. Blossom, the eldest of the three, is mopping up the rain water that had been allowed in by the opening and closing of the glass double doors leading inside. She must feel Buttercup's eyes on her, because she looks up, coral pink eyes meeting lime green. Blossom raises an eyebrow at her sister and Buttercup's lips quirk into a half smile. She nods at the mop, silently thanking her. Buttercup hates mopping, and her sisters know it. Blossom waves her off and continues mopping, a small smile now present on her face.

The three had always had that special ability, being able to communicate silently, with only their eyes and facial expressions. It came in very handy.

Blossom finishes and wrings out the mop, placing it back in the bucket and push-rolling it to the supply closet in the back. Buttercup leans against the counter and runs a hand through her hair. The coffee machine beside her makes a constant drip, drip, drip noise akin to the louder ones from the rain outside. The refrigerator hums and Blossom reappears, a thick novel in one hand. She settles into a chair opposite Bubbles, who briefly looks up and smiles.

Buttercup, wanting something to do, gets out three cups and starts making hot chocolate for the three of them. When the cocoa is finished, she adds a healthy dose of whipped cream to each cup, sprinkling chocolate shavings on top for the final touch. She takes two cups and brings them to her sisters. Blossom murmurs a thank you and Bubbles snatches Buttercup's hand, squeezing it as thanks. Buttercup retreats behind the counter, intent on drinking hers before it cooled too much.

As she sips, her stance relaxes and she finds herself sighing in bliss. Afternoons like this were the best, in her opinion. Just her and her family, nestled in their warm safe haven, no talking needed. All of them content.

Yes, afternoons like this were definitely her favorite.

Buttercup's gaze is drawn to the small, built in stage that rests on the opposite end of the shop. It isn't very large or tall, but it's a sturdy little stage, and she wonders if they'll ever put it to use. Maybe some time, she thinks.

Her musings are forgotten, however, when the chime above the door emits a faint ting, ting. Blossom and Bubbles are engrossed in their activities, leaving Buttercup the only one paying attention. For a moment, the ravenette contemplates ignoring the newcomers' presence as well, but she knows it wouldn't be possible. She has to face them.

"What are you doing here." She says emotionlessly. Politeness is not necessary when dealing with the three assholes from across the street.

Ah, yes. The Jojo brothers: Brick, Butch, and Boomer.

Their father, Mojo Jojo (when she had first learned his name Buttercup had laughed for a full minute), owns the sandwich café directly across the street. Slice of Leaven (he purposely copied them with the whole pun for a name, she's sure of it) was opened a year after Thanks a Latte. But, for the life of her, Buttercup couldn't understand why they had picked a location right freaking across from a coffee shop.

When the Professor had dragged his daughters (it was mostly Buttercup getting dragged) over to say hello, the girls immediately knew that getting along with these three would be virtually impossible. Brick was arrogant and pompous, Butch was a sarcastic shit, and Boomer? …He was pretty much indifferent, only showing interest when Bubbles tried to engage in friendly, tension-easing conversation. Her attempt ended in Brick and Blossom insulting each other and Buttercup almost punching a cackling Butch in the eye.

Needless to say, the girls tried to avoid the "Rowdyruff Boys", as much as possible.

It was kinda hard, though, when the three of them always took pleasure in torturing them.

"Just popped in for a friendly visit, Butters. Can't a guy come say hello to his favorite girl?" Butch says cheekily, sauntering over to the counter and wiggling his eyebrows at her. Buttercup's eyes narrow and her gaze flicks behind him to check on her sisters.

"No." She responds. "I hate you." Butch leans back, a mock hurt expression on his face.

"Ouch, Butterfly. Why so cruel? What's got your panties in a twist?" She sneers at him.

"What did I say about the nicknames? My name is Buttercup, but I'd prefer it if you didn't call me anything at all, in fact, don't even talk to me." She looks at the other two Jojos. Boomer is looking around the shop, and Brick is watching Butch with a raised eyebrow. Blossom and Bubbles are still out of touch with reality.

"Get out." Buttercup finally demands. "Your presence is not welcome, shitheads."

Butch shakes his head. "My, my, my, Butterbabe. So cold today. It must be the rain. What do you think, Brick?" He looks back at his red-eyed brother. Brick just rolls his eyes and mutters 'you're an idiot'.

Buttercup tightens her hand around her mug and entertains the thought of throwing the still-hot liquid in Butch's face. No, she thinks somewhat dejectedly, that would be such a waste of good hot chocolate.

She settles for the next best thing. She looks Butch straight in the eye and says,

"If you three don't get the fuck out in the next five seconds, I'm going to dump 2 gallons of freshly brewed coffee over your heads. Which, by the way, doesn't wash out." Butch blinks, and she can see Brick's jaw clench. Fear flashes through Boomer's eyes, she notes smugly.

"One…" She starts counting. "Two…three…" Brick shakes his head.

"Whatever. Let's go." He turns to leave, Boomer right behind him. Butch takes one last glance at Buttercup – who scowls at him – and winks before turning to leave. He waves without looking back.

"See you around, Butterbabe!" At the loud exclamation Bubbles looks up, bewildered. Blossom, who is pretty much deaf to the world when she's reading, doesn't move. Buttercup sighs, this time in aggravation.

"I hate those guys."

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there is foreshadowing in this chapter (couldn't resist, mar ;D ) BUT CAN YOU FIND IT? :]

and with that, i leave you.

peace out girl scouts,

two red converse