“All you’re doing is showing us up,” grumbles Buttercup, whose biggest accomplishment to date is managing to fail Calculus three times in a row. She’d only gotten to take it in the first place because the teachers thought she’d be a genius like her sister, and skipped two math classes.

“I just want to graduate with the rest of you and get my diploma,” says Blossom. She browses through her closet, trying to find her pink dress.

“They offered you a diploma after first semester of freshman year, didn’t they?” Bubbles asks from her closet.

“I said, with the rest of you,” says Blossom patiently. “And anyway, I can’t help being a genius—but I wanna have a full education and go through all four years of high school—”

“High school’s disgusting,” Buttercup comments from their bed. “You’re disgusting.”

Blossom absentmindedly throws one of Bubbles’s stray stuffed animals at her. “Get dressed,” she says.

Buttercup grumbles. “Yeah, yeah.”

Buttercup may think she’s disgusting for actually enjoying high school, but Blossom can’t help it—the teachers fawn over her, and the students either kiss her ass or genuinely like her. But maybe because Buttercup isn’t a morning person, because they treat Bubbles the same, too.

The only class the three girls have together is AP English, though Buttercup usually sits in the back and grumbles at Mitch, while on the first day of school Blossom had dragged Bubbles with her to the front of the classroom. As they wait for their teacher, Bubbles swings her legs and doodles. Blossom hums under her breath.

Ridiculous (and unnecessary) trumpets fanfare then. Princess Morbucks storms in, hips swaying, nose pointed up.

“Hello, Blossom,” she says as she passes them.

“Hi… Princess.”

“How’d you do on the chemistry test?”

Princess has her bodyguards behind her, which is a little distracting for Blossom. She supposes the bodyguard is necessary, though, considering the amount of death threats and potentially attempted robberies Princess has faced for being an absolute jackass.

“Uh,” says Blossom. “Fine, I guess?”

“I got a ninety-five.”

“That’s great,” Blossom says, genuinely. Princess’s danger to them, at the least, has whittled down—the only thing she ever does now is attempt to academically antagonize them, instead of trying to become a Powerpuff Girl.

“What did you get?” Princess asks.

“A one hundred,” Blossom says without thinking.

Princess’s cheeks turn the color of her freckles. “Ugh!” she says. “I’ll beat you one day, Blossom!”

Blossom watches as Princess goes to her own seat, bewildered.

Bubbles giggles from the next desk over. “Princess is so cute,” she says, still doodling.

“Kind of funny, I guess,” says Blossom.

“Well she tries so hard to beat you at things,” says Bubbles, scribbling a little crown. “I mean she’s never going to, because you’re the smartest kid in school. She just cares a lot.” Bubbles giggles again.

Princess does care a lot, because encounters like this happen at least twice a day. Blossom is also pretty sure that Princess is glaring at her during lunch a few days later, though she’s not sure what she’s done to deserve it.

“Hotline,” Buttercup says, nudging her. And then, “HOTLINE.”

“Oh.” Blossom blinks. “What?”

“Our hotline’s been ringing.” Buttercup gestures towards Blossom’s cellphone in her pocket, and then at her own and Bubbles, who’s holding hers up.

“Oh, right.” Blossom had been too busy watching Princess glare at her to notice. “Right, let’s go!”

Some monsters from Monster Isle are attacking downtown, though the girls defeat them before the lunch period is over. Buttercup grumbles about how, “couldn’t they try to destroy the city during math?” as Bubbles rushes to finish her macaroni and cheese.

Blossom glances towards the table where Princess usually sits, alone. It’s empty now, along with the royal purple tablecloth and bodyguards and gold-lined plates.

“Blossom?” Bubbles says through a mouthful of macaroni and cheese. She nudges her.

“Huh? What?”

Bubbles giggles as Blossom stupidly looks over at her.

“Finish your lunch,” Bubbles says. “Wow, this is the first time I’ve had to tell leader Blossom what to do.”

“Shut up.” Blossom can feel her cheeks flush. “I was distracted.”

“Distracted by what?” Bubbles says, but Blossom doesn’t answer that.

So Princess isn’t exactly a threat to them anymore, even though she’s trying to be. She is pretty smart—”She gets better grades than you,” Blossom says to Buttercup, who’s playing video games in the corner.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Blossom taps her pencil against her chin, not really reading the math problems in her textbook. She’s hanging off the edge of her bed, and glances at Buttercup’s game once in a while.

“Don’t you think Princess is smart?” she asks, after a beat.

“Does it look like I care?” asks Buttercup. “Why do you care, anyways?”

“Because I like smart people,” says Blossom defensively.

“You like Princess then?”

Buttercup doesn’t remove her eyes from the screen. Blossom can feel her cheeks heat up.

“That’s not what I meant,” she says. “She’s good at school, I mean. And even smarter than you.”

Buttercup’s racing game makes a weird squeaking sound as she turns her car sharply. “Princess is not smarter than me,” she says. “She just tries more, and gets higher grades—”

“And that already makes her smarter than you,” says Blossom.

Buttercup scoffs. “Whatever. I have superpowers.”

“So do I,” says Blossom.

“Well we can’t all be like you, can we?”

“What about Bubbles?” Blossom asks. Bubbles has an after school activity every day, from anime club to girl scouts, and still manages a 4.0 GPA. Blossom’s only in student council (class president) and their school’s newspaper, with a 5.5.

“Well Bubbles,” starts Buttercup, and then stops. “I’m fine with the way I am, and I’m about to win, motherfuckerrr!”

Their television screen flashes FIRST PLACE, and Buttercup throws her controller in the air, cheering.

“Why do you care about Princess so much, anyways?” she asks Blossom when she’s done.

Blossom hastily returns to her homework.

Blossom is also in AP Chemistry with Princess, and Princess always glares at her from across the classroom every time they do labs. And even when their teacher gives lectures, which is a little more unsettling.

“Are you okay, Princess?” she asks after class.

Princess jumps, her surprised wide eyes quickly turning back into a scowl. “Yes, of course I’m fine, Blossom,” she says.

“Well, just.” Blossom shrugs. “You seem a bit tense. Always trying to turn everything we do into a competition.”

“I do not do that,” says Princess. A piece of paper slips out from between her books suddenly, boldly marked at the top ALL THE TIMES BLOSSOM WAS BETTER THAN ME UNTIL SHE ISN’T.

“Uh,” says Blossom, picking it up. “Here.”

Princess is bright pink and Blossom kind of misses when they were in kindergarten together and she tried to become a Powerpuff Girl. Princess is brilliant, in a messed up and evil sort of way.

“I think you’re smart,” Blossom says.

Princess sputters for a moment, and then scoffs. “Whatever,” she says. “Like I care about your opinion.”

“You might,” says Blossom. “Considering that thing I just handed you.”

“I’m just determined to be better than you at something, Blossom,” Princess says. She pointedly waves a pen at Blossom. “You’ll see.”

A week later, while flying back from defeating Mojo Jojo, Blossom sighs.

“Oh, calm down,” says Buttercup. “I doubt you missed anything in statistics. Either that, or it’s shit you’ve already learned.”

“I’m not sighing about that.”

“Then what, if it’s not school related?” Buttercup rolls her eyes.

Bubbles asks, “Is there something wrong, Blossom?”

“Princess keeps coming up to me and trying to get better grades than me,” says Blossom. “In everything.”

Since last week, Princess had been popping up more frequently. She even interrupted when the girls had received a hotline call to retrieve the Mayor’s pickles.

“But you guys don’t have all your classes together?” says Bubbles.

“Our schedules are different, but essentially,” says Blossom. “Except choir, I guess. I dunno. She’s not in my choir class.”

“Well there’s no way she’ll be able to knock you off from being the smartest kid in school,” says Buttercup. “You beat her, Blossom! Beat her to the ground!”

“I’ve been doing that for the past four years,” says Blossom. “It’s kind of pathetic. Do you think I should let her—”

“No!” Bubbles and Buttercup shout at the same time.

“Princess used to be evil, remember?” Bubbles brings her hands to her mouth. “Don’t let her win!”

“She’s not evil anymore,” Blossom says patiently.

“You’d really do worse in school though just because you feel sorry for your arch nemesis?” says Buttercup.

“Since when did Princess turn into my arch nemesis?”

“Well,” says Buttercup, “she’s certainly trying to be.”

“Maybe you should try being friends with her,” Bubbles suggests the next day in English class, after Princess had bothered Blossom for the umpteenth time.

Blossom takes her head out of her arms. “Friends?”

“Yeah! You know,” Bubbles says brightly, “it might make her happier. Or less grumpy. She looks grumpy all the time.”

Blossom glances back to where Princess is sitting alone in the back, playing on her solid gold phone with all her bodyguards surrounding her. “She does,” Blossom agrees.

But, “I don’t think Princess would be willing to be friends with me.”

“Why not? Then maybe she’ll turn everything into a friendly competition,” says Bubbles. “Maybe you can help her with her schoolwork.”

“I don’t think she needs help.”

Today Princess had bragged to Blossom about getting a one hundred percent on their history test. Blossom had gotten a one hundred and four.

Bubbles shrugs and smiles. “It’d just be nice for Princess, you know,” she says. “I don’t think she has any friends in school, anyway. Or at all.”

“I wonder why,” Blossom says sarcastically.

Bubbles nudges her foot. “Well we both know that she’s not evil anymore.”

“Yeah, she’s just turned nerdy,” says Buttercup, coming in from the doorway.

Blossom raises an eyebrow at her. “And where were you?”

“Making out with Mitch behind the school,” Buttercup answers casually. When both her sisters continue staring at her, she says, “What? It’s not like I’m late.”

Bubbles giggles.

“Stop.” Buttercup rolls her eyes. She doesn’t even blush. “I lost a bet. He tasted like a dog.”

“But you made out with him?” asks Blossom.

Buttercup looks up thoughtfully. “It was more like he shoved his tongue in my mouth,” she says. “And then I punched him.”

A few minutes later, Mitch walks in with an ice pack over his eye, confirming Buttercup’s words.

“Princess,” Blossom says a few days later at lunch. “Can I sit with you?”

Princess is eating a salad and has a large chicken in front of her. “No,” she says, without looking up.

“Well, um,” says Blossom. “Do you want to sit with me and my sisters? There’s plenty of room at our table.”

Princess says, “That’s probably because you sit at the loser table.”

“Technically,” says Blossom, “since you don’t have anyone else sitting with you, wouldn’t that make your table more of the loser table?”

Princess pauses.

“You already beat me today, Blossom,” she says, meeting her eye. “You just wanna rub it in?”

“What’re you—”

“I saw what you got on your Econ essay,” Princess says.

Blossom had gotten a one hundred and three.

“How do you even get extra credit on an essay?”

“I don’t know.” Blossom shrugs. She may have sourced their teacher’s thesis, earning her extra points. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You can’t sit with me.” Princess huffs and crosses her arms. “Not until I beat you so I can rub it in your face.”

A week later they have a Statistics pop quiz. Blossom figures that her grade suffering by 0.05% wouldn’t hurt. She doesn’t take orders from her sisters, anyway.

At the end of the class, their teacher gives them their quiz back. Blossom doesn’t even have time to make a move before Princess is at her side, eyeing the large blue “4/5 (what happened, Blossom?)” and looking gleeful.

“I win!” she says, shoving her 5/5 marked paper in Blossom’s face. “I win! I beat you!”

“Good for you.” Blossom gives her a good-natured smile, packing her bags.

“I beat you! I beat Blossom!”

Princess begins skipping down the hallways, singing and shouting.

Blossom runs into Bubbles and Buttercup as she heads towards lunch. “So what’s this I heard about Princess beating you?” asks Buttercup, grinning.

Blossom shrugs. “We had a pop quiz in Stat today. And she did.”

“She got a higher grade than you?” If possible, Bubbles’s already bulbous blue eyes get even bigger.

“It’s more like I got a lower grade than her,” says Blossom.

“No,” Buttercup and Bubbles say simultaneously.

“Yes.” Blossom waves them off. “It’s not a big deal. What’s for lunch today?”

They get to the cafeteria and grab their food. Bubbles and Buttercup walk away, arguing heatedly about the attractiveness of their gym teacher.

Blossom walks up to Princess’s table.

“Hi,” she says, slipping through the bodyguards and seating herself at the table.

Princess stares at her.

“What’re you doing here?”

“We had a deal, remember?” Blossom starts on her sandwich.

“What deal?” Princess’s voice is getting higher and louder.

“You got a higher grade than me, I can eat with you at lunch. This is a good sandwich.” Blossom waves her food in Princess’s direction. “Have you had the sandwiches here before?”

Princess doesn’t answer, but that doesn’t bother Blossom. She’s well aware that Princess is silent through the whole meal; if Blossom swung her feet forward a little, she’d probably hit Princess’s stockinged legs. She doesn’t, though.

At home, of course, hardly anything’s changed. The girls still help Professor Utonium around the house, and Bubbles and the Professor cook most of the meals while Blossom and Buttercup wash the dishes and set the table.

Bubbles is saying, “Mr. Anderson is not hot, he has stubble, and a really large jaw—”

“That large jaw is hot, thank you very much,” says Buttercup. She whispers to Blossom, “I’d like that jaw between my legs.”

“I could hear that!” says Bubbles.

“I didn’t whisper so you couldn’t hear!”

“What’d you hear, Bubbles?” asks the Professor.

Bubbles turns bright red. “Nothing.”

“Why are you two still arguing about this?” asks Blossom. “Teachers are old. None of them are really hot.”

“See, Blossom agrees with me!” Bubbles says, just as Buttercup protests, “Mr. Anderson isn’t old!”

The Professor laughs. “I’m not sure I should be even witnessing this conversation,” he says.

“Professor,” says Buttercup. “When you were young, didn’t you think any of your teachers were attractive? C’mon, you gotta know what I mean.”

Professor Utonium puts a hand to his chin. “Well there was my eighth grade teacher…”

“See?” says Buttercup.

Bubbles exclaims, “I didn’t say I didn’t think any of our teachers were hot; it’s just Mr. Anderson in particular—”

“You said to Blossom—!”

“Let’s move onto another topic!” Blossom says loudly.

Bubbles and Buttercup pause.

Then Bubbles says, “Well you think Mitch is attractive, so what do you know—!”

Buttercup barks out a laugh. “I don’t think Mitch is attractive.”

Professor puts a hand on Bubbles’s shoulder. “Bubbles, you of all people should know that girls and boys can be very good friends without being attracted to each other.”

“But she—!”

The glare Buttercup shoots is deadly.

There’s another pause.

“Blossom is becoming friends with Princess Morbucks,” Bubbles blurts.

Blossom wishes she could glare like Buttercup. Instead she feels herself blush, and tries to busy herself with washing the bowl in her hand.

The Professor glances between them, as Blossom finally says, “Why don’t you tell the Professor what you were going to say about Buttercup and Mitch?”

“Why don’t we not,” says Buttercup.

“Because that was a double negative.”

“Princess Morbucks?” the Professor cuts in. “Your enemy, the girl who used to bully you guys, Princess Morbucks?”

“Well she didn’t really bully us,” says Buttercup. “Considering we have superpowers and may have heat rayed her on occasion.”

“You mean you heat rayed her on occasion,” says Bubbles.

“And not even on occasion,” says Blossom. “All through middle school, you—”

The Professor interrupts, “You’re becoming friends with this girl?”

“Well,” says Blossom. “It’s not like we’re actually becoming friends. She wants to beat me in everything, and I have attempted to engage in multiple civil conversations with her.”

“Blossom.”

“Don’t worry, Professor! Really,” says Blossom, as she sets the last bowl down. “I know what I’m doing.”

They get a hotline call while they’re in the middle of brushing their teeth in the morning, so they fly to school a bit later than usual.

Blossom sees the Morbucks limousine on the road. She flies down, taps on the window. Princess seems to be busy scribbling on a piece of paper.

She looks up when Blossom taps, rolls her eyes and ignores her.

Blossom taps again.

Princess sighs and rolls the window down. “What do you want?” she says.

Blossom can see what Princess is working on. It’s a sheet of paper, with, ALL THE THINGS I HAVE BEAT BLOSSOM AT BECAUSE I AM BETTER AT HER at the top. There’s only one thing on the list.

“Nice,” she says, nodding toward it.

Princess smirks. “Prepare yourself, Blossom,” she says. “I’m going to beat you in everything, and then you’ll be the second best student in school!”

Blossom shrugs. “It’s okay. I’m a Powerpuff Girl.”

“And I’m rich, so it’s even until then,” says Princess. “Get ready for your imminent downfall!”

“See you at lunch,” says Blossom.

They get their English tests back today, which they end up tying on. Princess bothers their teacher during class, saying, “Well someone should’ve done the best out of all of us,” and their teacher saying, “It’s a vocabulary quiz, Princess.”

“She’s desperate,” says Buttercup.

Blossom comments, “You haven’t seen the list.”

“What list?” asks Bubbles.

Blossom shrugs. “She writes down what I do better than her at. And what she does better than me at.”

“Well let’s see what she does better than you,” says Buttercup, holding out her hand. She starts ticking things off on her fingers. “One, is bitchier. Arguable. Two, is more obnoxious. Also arguable. Three, snottier and bossier.” She stops. “Actually, that’s pretty arguable, too.”

“According to Buttercup, you’re a match made in heaven,” says Bubbles brightly.

Blossom retorts weakly, “You two are a match made in heaven.” She can’t really deny any of Buttercup’s accusations. “But she’s pretty fun to be around.”

“Yeah, when she’s trying to dupe you or get you to do something for her,” says Buttercup darkly. “Face it, has that girl ever had a friend?”

“Well Blossom’s trying,” says Bubbles. “And if Blossom thinks of her that way, maybe she’ll be okay.”

Blossom laughs. “You have too much faith in me,” she says to Bubbles. “But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

She’s been sitting at lunch with Princess for a week now. Princess has hardly said a word to her, and Blossom has kept to her own food while attempting to make conversations that Princess mostly deflects.

“If you want,” says Blossom, “we can compare our definitions from that vocabulary test and whoever we think has more articulate definitions can win.”

“I’ll just cheat you out,” Princess grumbles, staring at her pasta. “Anyway, you probably know more words than me, so your answers are probably better.”

“I know ninety-five thousand, four hundred and sixty three English words,” says Blossom. “And seven thousand eighty-nine Mandarin ones.”

Princess stares.

“I know ninety-six thousand two hundred and one words!” she says. Then she deflates. “But I don’t know any other languages.”

“You still know more English words than me. You can put that on your list,” Blossom encourages.

Princess’s grin is contagious. “Yes,” she says, whipping out her notebook and pen faster than Blossom can take a bite of her pizza. “One more thing to add to the list. ‘Knows more words… more English words…’ than Blossom.”

“Nice,” says Blossom. “First thing on your list.”

“Second thing, remember?” Princess points at, ‘Higher grade on Stat pop quiz.’

“Well,” says Blossom, swirling her spoon in her yogurt. “I may have let you, uh. Have that one.”

Princess stares at her. “What?”

“I meant to do worse.” Sheepish, Blossom opens up her backpack. Their teacher had bothered her about the mistake and made her reanswer the question. Blossom puts the quiz on the table, with the “edited: 5/5” in bold red letters.

“No way,” says Princess loudly. “You let me win?”

“Technically, yes, okay—”

“So I didn’t actually beat you?” Princess stares at the top of her ALL THE THINGS I HAVE BEAT BLOSSOM AT BECAUSE I AM BETTER AT HER list.

“Well,” says Blossom, scooting closer to her. “There’s still this one, see, ‘knows more English words,’ because you know more English words than m—”

“I can’t believe you let me win! You went easy on me!” Princess screeches. “You humiliated me, you beat me and you let me think that I—”

They’re really starting to draw attention, and also Princess’s face is getting gradually redder so Blossom says gently, “Shut up.” And when Princess turns around to probably yell at her more for telling her to shut up, Blossom quickly waves Princess’s bodyguards in front of them before aiming her lips on Princess’s.

Princess is probably too overwhelmed with—well, everything, so Blossom lets it last for only half a second before sitting back.

“Uh,” she says. “I probably should’ve asked for permission. But you really needed to shut up.”

Princess touches her mouth, and then looks at her fingers.

“What,” is all she seems to be able to say.

Blossom shrugs. “I like you,” she says. Her eyes are focused on her food, and Princess is still staring blankly into space, so the blush that comes over her cheeks isn’t as hot as it would be, like Buttercup’s heat rays.

“What,” Princess says again.

Blossom gives her time.

After a while, Princess finally says, “No one likes me.”

“Well, you know.” Blossom shrugs. “I’m sure you’ll agree but I’m no one, I guess.”

“My motivation for the past eight years was to beat you at everything.”

“And I’m sitting at your lunch table now.”

Blossom’s working on her yogurt now.

Princess is quiet. Then she says, “I’m going to be better than you at one more thing.”

“Yeah?” says Blossom, smiling up at her. “What’s that?”

Princess bites her lip, swallows, but meets Blossom’s eyes.

“I’m going to ask for permission before I kiss you, first.”

It’s Wednesday afternoon, and Bubbles’s anime club meeting for the day is canceled, so Buttercup probably feels more crowded than usual. Not like Blossom’s concerned about that; Buttercup’s grumpy pretty much every day they walk home from school.

“Why can’t we fly?” she always asks, and, “Why can’t you go to her house?”

“Because I can’t fly, moron,” says Princess. “And it’s fun bothering you at your house.”

Buttercup gesticulates angrily at Princess. “You see this?” she says to Blossom. “Look at what she’s saying!”

“You can’t really look at what I’m saying,” says Princess.

“And she’s right,” says Blossom. When Buttercup opens her mouth, she adds, “About both of them.”

Buttercup glares so hard that she adds another crack to the sidewalk. Bubbles just giggles.

When they arrive home, the Professor greets them with, “Hi girls, hi… Princess.” He’s mowing the front lawn.

“Hi Professor Utonium!” all four girls say in chorus.

Princess adds, “Nice goggles.”

The Professor and Bubbles and Buttercup look confused as to whether to take that as an insult or a compliment. Blossom hides a smile.

“Th…anks?” says the Professor, as the girls go in.

Blossom and Princess start toward Blossom’s bedroom. Bubbles asks, “What’re you gonna do?”

Buttercup, who’s headed toward the living room where she moved their video game console, groans. “Oh god.”

Blossom grins. “Gonna go see who’s a better kisser,” she says.

“Oh,” says Bubbles, before, cheerfully, “Well have fun!”

Blossom takes Princess’s hand and flies them upstairs. Princess calls behind them, “I’ll have you know I’m the better kisser every time!”

“That’s so not true,” says Blossom. “If you were, you wouldn’t keep kissing me.”

“Maybe I just do to make sure you agree,” says Princess.

They tumble onto Blossom’s bed, red tangling in orange, collapsing into each other. Princess is so sharp and her kisses are always hard; Blossom strokes down her neck, feeling her angles and softness between the lines everywhere. She carefully takes off Princess’s crown, as routine, breathes cool onto Princess’s ear until Princess giggles and says, “Stop, you’ll freeze my ear again.”

“I said sorry last time,” says Blossom, laughs when Princess pinches at her side.

“Move so I can untie your bow,” says Princess.

Blossom does, or at least starts to until the hotline rings. They look at each other.

“Bubbles and Buttercup can probably,” says Blossom, and Princess says, “Yeah.” She gets Blossom’s bow off and then skirts are tucked up, jeans unbuttoned, Princess’s mouth hot on Blossom’s neck.

The hotline rings again. From downstairs, Bubbles screams, “BLOSSOM!”

“Now you see what I have to put up with every day,” Blossom’s supersonic hearing picks up from Buttercup.

Blossom sighs. “Duty awaits,” she says. A long piece of Princess’s hair is sticking to her cheek.

Princess pulls it away. “Being a hero must be so much work,” she says. “That’s why being evil is better.”

“You’re not evil anymore,” says Blossom. She starts pulling up her stockings, currently scrunched at her knees.

“Yeah, yeah.” Princess straightens out Blossom’s dress from the back, and pats Blossom’s ass as she stands. “Go get ’em, and whatever.”

Blossom smiles, lets Princess kiss her goodbye. “Thanks.”

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Fortunate Ones

by aroceu

Summary:

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© 2009-2026 aroceu