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chicassuperpodorosas.oficial @ Instagram

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Yeah... it's Butch guys

Just experimented with the art style lmao

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Re-Hash >:)

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Because the perfect combination exists and this is the proof

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Jojo posing for the fans

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art made by me :D

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Who's your favorite character from each trio? Puffs, Ruffs, Punks

Favorite puff is buttercup (I've always been bubbles naturally but buttercup is my fav bc she looks the most like me), favorite ruff... It's a toss up between brick and butch but it honestly depends on the fic or how they're written. But from the show? Brick. Always Brick. (And boomer is a close second bc of his personality. Butch only wins the visual category)

The punks? I'm honestly not the most well versed in their comic lore so I would have to go for a visual favorite and it's Brat. It will forever be Brat.

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Powerpuff girls

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i need him

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PPG miscellaneous poster xD

This started out as merely sketches of the Girls but I couldn't resist and added a bunch of random stuff in the background as I tried to color xD

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Any greens oneshot you have in drafts i'm starving for them and i love your writing 🥹🥹

Anon, that's so sweet of you. I haven't written anything in a long time, so I don't have any drafts, but I did write this quick drabble. I don't feel like editing, so I apologize for the obvious mistakes.

It's been so long I've forgotten how I write them, so my goal was like a vibe similar to two old friends seeing each other after a long period of time, but make it enemies???? Sorry if the vibe is incorrect.

title: that awkward moment when you crash into your enemy’s apartment, lol

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From aliens to zebra-stripped mole men, Buttercup had had one hell of a week. She laid lounging in a pile of rubble she had literally been punched into, looking out across the city with detached interest. She felt only just a teensy bit dazed. It wasn’t a bad view. From her vantage point in the dilapidated, now crumbling high-rise—if she had to guess it was in one of the old Section 12 buildings—she could see her sisters in the distance, fighting the reptilian water monster without her.

She figured her sisters owed her one, so she didn’t feel too bad letting them handle the monster on their own. She had handled most of the calls this week by herself and, honestly, as sad as it sounded, being swatted down like a fly was a welcome break.

Her peace was quickly interrupted by a crash at the front door of the apartment she occupied. She turned her head just in time to see Butch Jojo kick down the door. They both froze when they saw each other, blinking owlishly until she noticed the large, heavy sack hanging over his shoulder.

“Are you seriously looting a Section 12?” She frowned,

Butch shrugged, stepping into the apartment, “Guy’s gotta make money somehow.” 

“That’s low, even for you.” She rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the fight.

“Eh,” He dropped the sack and stood over her, “you don’t look like you’re in too good a position to preach today, so maybe it’d be in your best interest to shut up.”

“Mm.” She sniffed, “just don’t try pushing your luck.”

Butch let out a low whistle, inspecting the hole in the wall, “That’s it? That’s all you got to say? No fun banter?”

She let her head lull to the side, keeping one eye on him and the other on her sisters, “Give me, like, five minutes to perk back up.”

Butch turned around, one eyebrow cocked as he stared her down. He shoved his hands in his pockets, stepping into her crater of rubble and plopping down next to her on the now broken futon. “We got you busy out there, huh?”

She didn’t entertain him with the obvious answer, but her expression must have betrayed her. He smiled and tsked, throwing his arm over the back of the couch.

She rolled her eyes again, tilting her head away from the crook of his arm. Her gaze trailed to the sack he had dropped on the floor—a familiar green sweater had spilled from its opening among other articles of clothing. She frowned, eyebrows furrowing together as she sat up and looked around the apartment complex. Despite it being sparsely decorated, it was quite obviously a young man’s home. Shot glasses lined the top of the kitchen cabinets between empty bottles of alcohol. The furniture consisted of mix matched tables, chairs, and the shitty futon she had crashed onto. A mangled TV, too large for the space, sat hanging halfway off the wall in front of them, again, destroyed when she came crashing through.

She squinted at the fridge, sitting up even straighter when she noticed a Polaroid of Butch and Boomer posing in front of a seemingly passed out Brick. With wide eyes, she turned back to Butch.

“Is that your laundry?” She pointed to the sack of ‘loot,’ then gestured to the whole of the apartment, “Is this your place?” 

He took his time, tearing his attention away from the fight, to answer her, “Huh? Oh, yeah, it is.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, man.”

“I thought you were looting this place. Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugged, “I dunno. Better story?”

“Better story?” She echoed.

“Yeah,” He smiled the same shit-eating grin as before, “I liked your narrative better. I’ve got a rep to maintain, you know?”

She looked away from him then, conflicted, weighing her options before saying, “well, ya know, sorry about your wall and stuff.”

Butch sighed, “It happens . . . in Townsville, at least. I was at the laundry mat two blocks from here when I saw the news and my building on it. Rushed over, hoping it wasn’t actually mine. Don’t know what I was planning on doing, but here we are, I guess. Nice view, though—” He nodded at the hole in the wall, “—never knew.”

“Yeah, it is nice.” She nodded, turning her attention back to the view in front of them. The fight had moved away, so now all she could see was the setting sun sparkling over Townsville’s bay. They sat quietly together, watching. It felt intimate in a way, like a moment of shared understanding, but she wasn’t quite sure over what.

A crash somewhere downtown pulled her out of their shared reverie.

“Where are your brothers?” She asked, curious, looking around, absorbing the tidbits of information she could glean from his place. Apparently, they both used the same protein powder.

He smiled at her again, but kept his mouth shut.

“Alright, fair. Can’t say I didn’t try,” She huffed, flopping back down. “My sisters aren’t going to believe this. I mean, this is where you’ve been on your off days? How’d you manage to get a place?”

“I didn’t. Bruce did.”

“Bruce?”

Butch flicked the sunglasses sitting on top of his head down over his eyes before pulling a cloth mask over his mouth and crooked nose. To complete the look, he flipped his hood up. It wasn’t as suspicious as it would have seemed on paper. With his eyes hidden and not an article of green clothing in sight, he was just another seemingly COVID-conscious guy.

“Bruce,” He stuck out his hand to shake hers. “Bruce Williams, nice to meet ya.”

“Good name,” She said, mostly to herself, taking his hand in hers, “Gotta admit this whole thing feels weird. Like seeing a teacher outside of school.”

“It’s a big step,” He nodded, “meeting your enemy’s alter ego.”

She smirked, “Be careful. Milestones make me emotional.”

He let go of her hand, slowly, like he didn’t really want to. “Just wait. Soon, you’ll be on the Christmas card list.”

“HIM already sends us those.”

Butch laughed, “Then, I’ll make it extra special this year.”

She had something witty to say to that, but Blossom cut her off. In the distance, her sister let out a shout, “Buttercup!”

It wasn’t a panicky shout—one born out of dire circumstances—but there was a frazzled edge to it.  

“Well, that’s me.” She jumped up, rolling her neck and shoulders, testing her joints. Besides the exhaustion headache behind her eyes, her body was no longer screaming at her to sit down. Chemical-X had done its job once again. She probably didn’t even have a bruise.

Her steps were light as she made her way to the hole in the wall. She teetered on the edge, one foot dangling off the side of the building as she turned back to Butch.

“I guess if I come back later, you won’t be here?”

“Not much of a hideout now, is it?”

She shrugged, “It was worth a shot. You’ve got another place to stay?”

She couldn’t see his smile, but she felt it when he said, “You know, after all these years, I figured you’d learn a little tack.” 

“That question was genuine.”

He stretched his arms, resting his hands on the back of his head, “Eh, I’ve got other places to crash. Don’t worry about me.”

She let out a heavy sigh, “I seriously try not to.”

He laughed, putting a hand over his heart, “Ouch.”

“Well, see ya around, Brucie.”

“Likewise, Butters.” He saluted her.

She smiled, watching the setting sun dilute her reflection in his sunglasses, “Call me Brittany. Brittany Jones. It’s only fair.”

“Brittany? You?”

“With two Ts. Look me up sometime.” She winked before falling out the window and back into the fight. 

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Blue on blue violence > Ref Ref

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Someone saw my teen designs and went "They still don't have hands??" Yeah? Did you think puberty was gonna give them fingers?

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Fangs

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They're so fkn fun to draw

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So you said you’ve drawn the reds kissing like once or something…

So like.. proof or it doesn’t exist??🤨🤨

It’s in sunshower I’ve drawn them kiss 2 times! Both extremely lack luster looool but idk how it is about reds but I don’t think about them smooching too much for some reason maybe I need to lock in ….