sometimes she lingered before the mirror. she tried not to, but there were those moments where insecurity got its way.

she stood before it; eye fixated on the blurred face reflected within the glass. her lips were firmly pressed, the swell of her lower lip slightly more prominent. she thought another dozen freckles had manifested onto her cheekbones overnight. her fiery hair is held high in a tamed pony-tail, not a strand out of place on the peak of her hairline.

she felt lost. devoid of who she really was. honestly, she didn't know why she still felt this way. years went by since the accident. but she couldn't banish the emptiness when she peered into the mirror and saw gray and not pink.

it made her feel lifeless. like if her soul had been drained. as if her life was nothing but science and work—no love or play.

she knew looks didn't sum up your entire existence—it's what ticked deep within your core and the choices you chose that ultimately made you who you are.

but her eyes.

her once tantalizing, pink eyes—

they were her.

they were a part of her identity.

bubbles was the baby blue: soothing and light. her wide eyes welcoming all who dared to gaze her way. innocence ignited when her cheeks quirked her eyes into a squint. honesty and loyalty, those were the promises boiling deep within her eyes. the airy color of her irises promised trust and acceptance. they had a calming effect on all.

buttercup was the lime green: sour and acidic. although she used them to glower at the world, those who sought past her narrowed gaze immediately find themselves trapped in their addictive glow. they pierced through lies and beat the dignity of foolishness. they brought a sense of balance in some weird way.

but blossom was the lucky one. her eyes shone with so much emotion. all the emotions she couldn't physically express with her position as leader. they were glossed with compassion; ready to nurture those who she swore to protect. they burned with unconditional love and understanding. she had the passion softened by purity.

but gray—

gray was unemotional. it was detached, neutral, and impartial. she appeared more reserved—subdued and quiet. it did not stimulate. it couldn't be glamorous.

it was drab and depressing. she was drab and depressing. when she looked at herself, she only saw pools of loneliness and isolation. and the sad truth was that's what she's allowed herself to become.

she was once a girl with eyes of hope. eyes that inspired and comforted.

but now they were just eyes that were still and sterile.

she was nothing but a lifeless stray.

a wilted blossom.

—

this is based off of Busterella's Blossom from her PpG "Squishyverse".

she posted a pic of Blossom without her pink goggles, which were supposed to correct her eyesight/hide the fact that her eye color had been drained by some cray accident during alien goop wars.

and I figured if you spent your life with something as unique as pink motherfucking eyes, you'd probably end up reflecting on how different it made you look and how weird you felt because that's /not you/ when you you look into the mirror.

AND IDK. Blossom is a /very/ strong female character, but also the one who would bury all her insecurity deep, deep within herself and only show it if she was by herself. Yeah Buttercup would probs do that too, but she's definitely more likely to explode after it became too much. And Bubbles is just open with her feelings so I never really imagine these type of things would haunt her for long because she'd reach actual acceptance and shit before it even had the chance to eat away at her.

IDK. I'm tired. and babbling. and I just really hope Busterella mildly likes it because yeah. hahaha, okay back to my hole.