#secret confession: i don't think i can write the greens well enough anymore lol so plz bear with me

[aclosetfan]

I started this draft a long time ago based on a joke text post that goes around tumblr fandom spaces, but i can't find a link anymore. my mutuals love the greens as the secretly soft couple and i think the post fits the vibe perfectly, so here’s my spoof 😭😭

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The kitchen clock read around 9 p.m., but their apartment was midnight silent. Butch sat in front of the tv, playing his video game. He kept the volume on low and muted his mic. As much as he wanted to cuss out his team, Buttercup was already asleep.

Townsville had been keeping Buttercup and her sisters busy for the last week. She was up early and in bed late, with no break in sight. He thought it was bullshit that she couldn't, at least, eat an actual dinner, but he was saving that argument for later when the dark circles under her eyes had receded slightly, and he didn't feel like such a shithead for not being able to do more to protect her.

Tonight, she had come home to him battered, bruised, and bone-tired. He had picked up her favorite take-out, and they had settled on the couch to watch a movie. They had made it about twenty minutes into the horrible B-rated horror flick when Buttercup's soft, tired snores reached his ears.

He had been only slightly disappointed. While this had been their first night together in a long time, he had been happy to see her sleeping, so he had scooped her up and placed her in bed with a kiss on the forehead.

That had been two hours ago.

He paused his game when Buttercup floated back into the living room. She wore their comforter like a cape and rubbed at her bleary eyes with a frown.

"Hey, babe," He smiled, opening his arms wide for her.

Buttercup didn't need further invitations. She plopped down on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Youse warm," She spoke into his chest.

"Bad or good warm?"

"Good."

He laughed, "Are you cold?"

"Mm."

"Come’ere then." He shuffled her around into a more comfortable position so he could still play his game with her wrapped around him. "Comfortable?"

"Mhm." She nodded, her head resting on his shoulder. "Couldn't sleep without you."

"Well, sleep now, I ain't goin' anywhere."

"Don't wanna," she said through a yawn, nuzzling into his chest. "Miss you."

Butch's heart skipped a beat as if they were still teenagers and he was still hiding his miserable crush on her.

He didn't say anything back. He didn't have the words, but he held her close to him, rubbing small circles into her back and peppering kisses to the crown of her head. Her breath pleasantly tickled his neck as she fell back asleep.

He enjoyed her dead weight and marveled, not for the first time, over the fact that this was his life now—safe with Buttercup. He could act like himself, here, with her, not as some demonic entity's tool.

And it was all thanks to her.

And he was such an idiot for fighting it for so long.

His heart skipped another beat, and he held her even closer.

"You deserve an award, putting up with me." He whispered, thinking she was asleep.

"You’re m’award." She whispered back.

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(BONUS)

The main overhead light in their bedroom flicked on as the door banged open.

"Bubbles!" Boomer jumped onto the bed. "Bubbles! I made a lil' midnight snackieee. Do you want some?"

Bubbles' eyes snapped open with the fury of a thousand suns. Boomer stood above her, obnoxiously chewing whatever unholy midnight concoction he had slaved over. The kitchen was likely a mess.

"It’s two in the morning," She squeaked, squinting against the overhead light, "and you're getting crumbs all over me!"

"Yeah! I was craving something crunchy!" Boomer beamed, but his mouth was full of food, so his stupid explanation was garbled and only pissed her off further.

She wiped spittle crumbs off her face and flopped over on her side. "No, I'm tired. Go back to playing your video games."

"Ugh!" Boomer groaned, flopping down on the bed, "It got boringgg when Butch logged off. Let's do something else!"

"Sleep."

"That's boring too," Boomer pouted, tugging her shoulder until she faced him again. "Hey, by the way, why didn’t you say I love you when you went to bed? I was like hey babe, goodnight! Love you! And you were like, night, like what’s with that, huh? You love me, right?"

Guilt pierced her heart for a second, but then she remembered it was two in the morning. "I love you," she said.

Boomer regarded her momentarily, then addressed her dryly, "Well, it doesn’t sound sincere now!"

"Boomer." She seethed. "What time is it?"

He squinted at the alarm clock, "About two!"

"And how long have I been asleep?"

"Four hours and thirteen minutes!"

"I need more than four hours and thirteen minutes! We've been over this. I'm so tired."

Boomer frowned, putting his snack to the side. "I'm doing it again, aren't I? I'm sorry. It's just that I can't sleep, and I miss you, Bubs, that's all."

This time, the guilt stayed. She knew about his nightmares, after all.

Bubbles sat up to cup his face with her hand. She kissed his cheek and said, "Oh, Boomer, it's okay, silly. I'm sorry. It's just been a long week. I'll make a midnight snack with you tomorrow."

Another bright smile broke out across his face, and he wrapped her up in a big hug before laying her back on the bed.

"Bubbie," He announced, "you deserve an award for putting up with me!"

"I really do." Bubbles smiled serenely, pulling the covers up over her head, "You’re a real dumbass sometimes. Now, go away."