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Thoughts on Ace/Buttercup. Also, fic.
A few weeks ago (well, almost a month, now), ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sarahtales posted about her affinity for the Belligerent Sexual Tension trope (she calls it “the romantic couple who are the Bicker Twins”), and also had a little comment about other romantic tropes that stuck with me:
I tend to agree with a lot ofsarahtales' thoughts on romance, which is why I enjoy her work so much, and this case isn't any different. And when I first read that post back in April I suddenly thought of Ace/Buttercup, and why that couple doesn't work for me—because for me personally, I do feel like Ace/Buttercup is very one-sided, and very much a “love from afar” situation, with a little bit of “Mysterious Boyfriend” thrown in.
The age difference has never thrown me or squicked me. (I know it's a quick assumption based on my preferred pairing, but I truly, honestly don't have an issue with age.) The age difference does play a large part of why I don't see it, though. At her age in “Buttercrush,” Buttercup is suffering from her first intense bout of Puppy Love, which, in my opinion, doesn't necessarily translate to true romantic love, and as far as Ace goes I don't really see him as being interested in her beyond his attempt to manipulate her. You could certainly make it work in the future, but I still have trouble with Ace reciprocating.
But why is that? I had to take some time to think about it. The truth of the matter is, I'm not big on Ace. Maybe it just boils down to that. The GGG's great, but Ace himself just kinda leaves me going, “Eh.” And Ace/Buttercup has the same effect on me. Not that the couple can't be done well, but my lack of interest in it doesn't really lead me to seek out Ace/Buttercup fics. SHRUG.
Something did cross my mind, though, and I wonder that this affects my lack of interest in various other PpG/non-RrB-villain pairings as well—about there being an imbalance of power in the relationship. Which is rather shallow of me, because when you look at it further, I'm basing the idea that the PpG and RrB are balanced on an almost purely physical standpoint. But the similar superpowers and the equal physical strength (which Blossom even calls attention to in the Boys' return ep)... I mean, right up front, the Girls and Boys are dealt the same hand when it comes to power and physical strength, which is a strong, not-so-subtle visual cue that they can (at least physically) hold their own against each other.
This isn't to say that balance of power can't be mental, but... I still feel like Mojo is always going to be smarter than Blossom and that Ace is always going to be stuck in the junkyard while Buttercup gets over a five-year-old's crush and moves on. All of the Girls will always be physically stronger than everyone else, except for Him, and Him... well, He's the Ultimate Evil, so I'm not really sure who even compares there. The Girls have never really beat Him.
I don't know, my thoughts on this aren't that well-formed, and it's all my own personal take on it. At the end of the day, I just know what presses my buttons and what doesn't. That said, the bulk of this rambling came about because the following idea popped into my head.
Title: The Things That Stay With You
Pairing: Buttercup/Ace
Rating: G
Parts: One-shot
Disclaimer: Only the words assembled in this particular order are mine.
Summary: You never forget your first. Buttercup is no exception.
Notes: Dedicated to all the Ace/Buttercup shippers on my flist. So...spfizz, alicornmoon, and Hermeown. Who else have I missed? Read kanashimichan's Buttercup/Ace ship manifesto for research/reference. Also wanted to play around with 2nd person POV. Unbeta'd.
The Things That Stay With You
-sbj
It happens because the Professor relents and says, “You know what? Sure,” when you ask if you can turn on the radio. You grant him a wide smile before punching the button.
He instantly reaches for the dial and twists it. “But not too loud, Buttercup,” he warns. “No changing the station once you're on the road, either.”
“Yes, Professor.” You nod, adopting a serious expression as you locate your favorite station.
You drive the car into town without a hitch, eyes always on the road and wary of your turn signals, your gear shifting, the stoplights, the other cars and pedestrians. With your dad sitting beside you in the front seat, exercising caution is a necessity, no matter how much you may want to floor it. Driving is a privilege at this point—a big one, and one you want to keep. The flimsy paper driver's permit has been burning a hole in your back pocket since the DMV clerk handed it over almost two days ago. For maybe the first time in your life you pray there won't be a call from the Mayor's office. God help the unlucky villain who tries to cut into your driving time.
The Professor directs you—a left turn here, slight right here, watch the pedestrian—until you pull into a space directly in front of his bank's ATM (parallel parking is not your forte, but you manage), place the station wagon in park, and let it idle as he jumps out.
The song on the radio is ending; you hum along until it fades out and the next fades in. You pause, and furrow your brow. You know this song.
The tempo is fast and the bass pounds like a jackhammer. It's the kind of song that is not to be played, but blasted. A title doesn't come to mind. But you know it. What—
A lightness in your chest, suddenly, along with the smell of dust, dust that is caked on old wood, soft with slight rotting. Not disgusting, though—comforting. You like that smell. Liked that smell.
The lights were a dim yellow that made your skin glow, your green dress brighter. He was messing with the stereo, cranking it up. At home you weren't allowed to turn the volume up that high—the Professor and your sisters would yell at you. Watching Ace spin that dial all the way to the right filled you with a reckless sort of excitement—you weren't supposed to do that. You weren't even supposed to be here.
You sensed something at your feet, and you kicked at a skittish roach, your prim Mary Janes upsetting little clouds of dust as you did so. A shadow on the floorboards drew close, and you looked up, your heart quickening and your throat going tight as Ace approached.
“Man, I love this song!” he exclaimed, and you beamed and nodded vigorously. Ace liked a lot of cool stuff. You liked it too.
You liked...
He started dancing, jumping around like a crazy person, and you stifled a giggle.
“Hey kid, don't you wanna dance?”
Your heart skipped a beat every time he talked to you. It was okay when he called you 'kid.' You didn't even mind. It sounded nice, coming from him.
His question didn't register at first. But then he offered you his hand, and you blinked, feeling a sudden heat in your cheeks. You didn't want him to see, so you looked away, out the window.
Before your eyes fell on the glass he twisted you away, turned you back to him, and kissed you.
You remember your heart stopped completely. You remember his dry lips brushing against yours, how his barely-there whiskers tickled your skin.
You remember how very much a little girl you suddenly felt at that moment, how vulnerable and petrified you were, and how very much a grown-up he seemed, or at least a big kid—big enough to date, to drive a car, to kiss girls. You? You had naptime after lunch and played kickball at recess.
The room smelled like dust over slowly rotting wood, and the light was a dim yellow that brightened the green of your dress, his skin.
Really, he'd only brushed his lips against yours, but it was still lips on lips. A first kiss is a first kiss.
You felt numb with shock as he pulled away. He had kissed you. Ace had kissed you.
“Come on, Buttercup,” he said, grinning. “Let's dance.”
Your happiness, your delirium overwhelmed you. You danced and jumped and didn't care how crazy you looked, because Ace had kissed you and called you 'kid' and said your name and kissed you, he had kissed you, you, you.
You remember your fist connecting with the wall, and then—
“Buttercup!” the Professor shouts, and you jump.
“Y-yeah?” you croak, blinking furiously as the memory fades, yellowing at the edges like the light in that awful room.
“Are you okay?”
You sweep your hair back out of your face, your hand brushing against the cold sweat collecting at your hairline.
“I'm fine,” you say, and clear your throat. “Sorry. I was... distracted by the radio.” After a moment's thought, you punch the button, and the music dies. “It won't happen again.”
The Professor settles back, still looking worried, so you steel your shoulders and expression as you start the car. A tickle ghosts across your upper lip, and you scrape your teeth across it, hoping vindictively that these days he has the sense to shave instead of trying to grow out that pathetic excuse of a mustache.
“It won't happen again,” you repeat, resolutely, determinedly, and put the car into drive.
-fin-
I do have more Buttercup/Ace planned. Just FYI.
sarahtales posted about her affinity for the Belligerent Sexual Tension trope (she calls it “the romantic couple who are the Bicker Twins”), and also had a little comment about other romantic tropes that stuck with me:Anyway, it is very different from a Mysterious Boyfriend who scares you yet excites you, or love from afar, or love at first sight. I do not believe in any of those things. (It is possible that the problem is I have a cold, dead heart.)
I tend to agree with a lot of
sarahtales' thoughts on romance, which is why I enjoy her work so much, and this case isn't any different. And when I first read that post back in April I suddenly thought of Ace/Buttercup, and why that couple doesn't work for me—because for me personally, I do feel like Ace/Buttercup is very one-sided, and very much a “love from afar” situation, with a little bit of “Mysterious Boyfriend” thrown in.The age difference has never thrown me or squicked me. (I know it's a quick assumption based on my preferred pairing, but I truly, honestly don't have an issue with age.) The age difference does play a large part of why I don't see it, though. At her age in “Buttercrush,” Buttercup is suffering from her first intense bout of Puppy Love, which, in my opinion, doesn't necessarily translate to true romantic love, and as far as Ace goes I don't really see him as being interested in her beyond his attempt to manipulate her. You could certainly make it work in the future, but I still have trouble with Ace reciprocating.
But why is that? I had to take some time to think about it. The truth of the matter is, I'm not big on Ace. Maybe it just boils down to that. The GGG's great, but Ace himself just kinda leaves me going, “Eh.” And Ace/Buttercup has the same effect on me. Not that the couple can't be done well, but my lack of interest in it doesn't really lead me to seek out Ace/Buttercup fics. SHRUG.
Something did cross my mind, though, and I wonder that this affects my lack of interest in various other PpG/non-RrB-villain pairings as well—about there being an imbalance of power in the relationship. Which is rather shallow of me, because when you look at it further, I'm basing the idea that the PpG and RrB are balanced on an almost purely physical standpoint. But the similar superpowers and the equal physical strength (which Blossom even calls attention to in the Boys' return ep)... I mean, right up front, the Girls and Boys are dealt the same hand when it comes to power and physical strength, which is a strong, not-so-subtle visual cue that they can (at least physically) hold their own against each other.
This isn't to say that balance of power can't be mental, but... I still feel like Mojo is always going to be smarter than Blossom and that Ace is always going to be stuck in the junkyard while Buttercup gets over a five-year-old's crush and moves on. All of the Girls will always be physically stronger than everyone else, except for Him, and Him... well, He's the Ultimate Evil, so I'm not really sure who even compares there. The Girls have never really beat Him.
I don't know, my thoughts on this aren't that well-formed, and it's all my own personal take on it. At the end of the day, I just know what presses my buttons and what doesn't. That said, the bulk of this rambling came about because the following idea popped into my head.
Title: The Things That Stay With You
Pairing: Buttercup/Ace
Rating: G
Parts: One-shot
Disclaimer: Only the words assembled in this particular order are mine.
Summary: You never forget your first. Buttercup is no exception.
Notes: Dedicated to all the Ace/Buttercup shippers on my flist. So...
spfizz, alicornmoon, and Hermeown. Who else have I missed? Read kanashimichan's Buttercup/Ace ship manifesto for research/reference. Also wanted to play around with 2nd person POV. Unbeta'd.The Things That Stay With You
-sbj
It happens because the Professor relents and says, “You know what? Sure,” when you ask if you can turn on the radio. You grant him a wide smile before punching the button.
He instantly reaches for the dial and twists it. “But not too loud, Buttercup,” he warns. “No changing the station once you're on the road, either.”
“Yes, Professor.” You nod, adopting a serious expression as you locate your favorite station.
You drive the car into town without a hitch, eyes always on the road and wary of your turn signals, your gear shifting, the stoplights, the other cars and pedestrians. With your dad sitting beside you in the front seat, exercising caution is a necessity, no matter how much you may want to floor it. Driving is a privilege at this point—a big one, and one you want to keep. The flimsy paper driver's permit has been burning a hole in your back pocket since the DMV clerk handed it over almost two days ago. For maybe the first time in your life you pray there won't be a call from the Mayor's office. God help the unlucky villain who tries to cut into your driving time.
The Professor directs you—a left turn here, slight right here, watch the pedestrian—until you pull into a space directly in front of his bank's ATM (parallel parking is not your forte, but you manage), place the station wagon in park, and let it idle as he jumps out.
The song on the radio is ending; you hum along until it fades out and the next fades in. You pause, and furrow your brow. You know this song.
The tempo is fast and the bass pounds like a jackhammer. It's the kind of song that is not to be played, but blasted. A title doesn't come to mind. But you know it. What—
A lightness in your chest, suddenly, along with the smell of dust, dust that is caked on old wood, soft with slight rotting. Not disgusting, though—comforting. You like that smell. Liked that smell.
The lights were a dim yellow that made your skin glow, your green dress brighter. He was messing with the stereo, cranking it up. At home you weren't allowed to turn the volume up that high—the Professor and your sisters would yell at you. Watching Ace spin that dial all the way to the right filled you with a reckless sort of excitement—you weren't supposed to do that. You weren't even supposed to be here.
You sensed something at your feet, and you kicked at a skittish roach, your prim Mary Janes upsetting little clouds of dust as you did so. A shadow on the floorboards drew close, and you looked up, your heart quickening and your throat going tight as Ace approached.
“Man, I love this song!” he exclaimed, and you beamed and nodded vigorously. Ace liked a lot of cool stuff. You liked it too.
You liked...
He started dancing, jumping around like a crazy person, and you stifled a giggle.
“Hey kid, don't you wanna dance?”
Your heart skipped a beat every time he talked to you. It was okay when he called you 'kid.' You didn't even mind. It sounded nice, coming from him.
His question didn't register at first. But then he offered you his hand, and you blinked, feeling a sudden heat in your cheeks. You didn't want him to see, so you looked away, out the window.
Before your eyes fell on the glass he twisted you away, turned you back to him, and kissed you.
You remember your heart stopped completely. You remember his dry lips brushing against yours, how his barely-there whiskers tickled your skin.
You remember how very much a little girl you suddenly felt at that moment, how vulnerable and petrified you were, and how very much a grown-up he seemed, or at least a big kid—big enough to date, to drive a car, to kiss girls. You? You had naptime after lunch and played kickball at recess.
The room smelled like dust over slowly rotting wood, and the light was a dim yellow that brightened the green of your dress, his skin.
Really, he'd only brushed his lips against yours, but it was still lips on lips. A first kiss is a first kiss.
You felt numb with shock as he pulled away. He had kissed you. Ace had kissed you.
“Come on, Buttercup,” he said, grinning. “Let's dance.”
Your happiness, your delirium overwhelmed you. You danced and jumped and didn't care how crazy you looked, because Ace had kissed you and called you 'kid' and said your name and kissed you, he had kissed you, you, you.
You remember your fist connecting with the wall, and then—
“Buttercup!” the Professor shouts, and you jump.
“Y-yeah?” you croak, blinking furiously as the memory fades, yellowing at the edges like the light in that awful room.
“Are you okay?”
You sweep your hair back out of your face, your hand brushing against the cold sweat collecting at your hairline.
“I'm fine,” you say, and clear your throat. “Sorry. I was... distracted by the radio.” After a moment's thought, you punch the button, and the music dies. “It won't happen again.”
The Professor settles back, still looking worried, so you steel your shoulders and expression as you start the car. A tickle ghosts across your upper lip, and you scrape your teeth across it, hoping vindictively that these days he has the sense to shave instead of trying to grow out that pathetic excuse of a mustache.
“It won't happen again,” you repeat, resolutely, determinedly, and put the car into drive.
-fin-
I do have more Buttercup/Ace planned. Just FYI.
no subject
But I definitely see where you're coming from with Ace/Buttercup. If you don't like one of the characters in the pairing, then chances are you're not going to like the pairing itself, especially if it's with a favorite character. Ace/Buttercup in later years would probably be very superficial and might lead to something deeper, but Ace is for Ace and Buttercup is for Buttercup. They're both just a little too selfish to get into something long-lasting.
Mojo may always be smarter than Blossom, but Blossom is smarter than all of Townsville-excluding Him of course.. Mojo's the only one that could actually hit her level(and surpass it, but that would motivate Blossom, not frustrate her.) and Blossom needs that. Lets face it, Smart Brick is a completely fanon thing. I love Smart Brick, but I can admit that it has pretty much no basis in canon.Hell, Smart Brick probably isn't on Blossom's level anyways. Blossom and Brick will never be on the same mental level, while Mojo and Blossom will never be on the same physical level.
I also have my thoughts on Him and other Villains/puff pairings, but those are pretty much my fanon speculation and not relevant right now.
Oh gosh, kudos on writing in 2nd person correctly. It's so hard to do. It's a nice story, and not too cheesy a transition into Buttercup's memory.Once again your all brilliant and inspiring, even with a pairing your not fond of!