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Mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, Catra waits for Adora to be back from grocery shopping, (which in her opinion is stupid, it’s not like she can’t afford Uber eats), so they can make this new video Adora has been dying to film. She hasn’t told her what it is about yet, supposedly, to keep it more suspenseful, but Catra is hardly in suspense of what it could possibly be.
It’s Adora, for God’s sake. It’s not like it would be the next ‘sister scandal’ or even something somewhat offensive. Having a young audience did that. She even censored curse words, up until, well, Catra came into the mix. Then there was no point, otherwise she’d be editing for hours, or end up making someone pay to do it for her—and Adora hates spending money.
Her room—hell, her whole apartment—attested to that: plain white, IKEA furniture; cream coloured walls; a decent sized, but not expensive tv; and minimal decor, yet it still felt much more homely than Catra’s place. Maybe it’s the people that make a home homely, the thought briefly crosses her mind, before it disintegrates into nothing more than scattered ashes.
Without a doubt, Adora’s room is honestly the best part of the house. It has a lot more life and personality in it. It is a lot less IKEA, and more Adora. It is the only room (other than the kitchen which was just white), that didn’t have those boring beige coloured walls. When Catra walked in for the first time and saw the pale lavender walls, and the multiple Ariana Grande posters, she wanted to walk right back out again.
“Catra! It’s not that bad,” she had said, “it’ll grow on you, trust me,” was something she had also said, and (as always) she was right.
The room has grown her, in all it’s purple-ly, fangirlish, cluttered yet clean, Adora-ish, glory.
Adora’s desk is in the far corner of the room, and placed on it was a variety of notebooks, a pot of pens, camera batteries, her camera, and the laptop she uses to edit on. Catra has tried convincing her to get a new one, since hers was ancient, but Adora, being extremely stubborn, ‘didn’t want to waste money,' so instead she wastes time trying to restore files that keep getting corrupted. Typical.
She films most sit down videos either at her desk, or, in the other corner of the room that has a small sofa and a bean bag, and whilst Catra could of sat there, she much prefers Adora’s bed. The one thing Adora does indulge in is good sleep, and while at first Catra thought the queen sized bed was a little bit overkill, now, she wants a bed like this at hers. Though it probably wouldn’t be as comfy...Catra’s thoughts intrude once again, disappearing as quickly as they came
Checking the time, Catra realises that her friend has nearly spent an hour food shopping, which is already absurd since it takes no longer than 10 minutes to get there, but even more so, as Adora hates shopping anyway. For a second, Catra contemplates messaging, but another Twitter notification appears and her attention is swayed easily by that.
***
Completely engaged with Twitter memes, Catra fails to acknowledge the slam of the door shut, indicating that Adora is finally home. Almost as if Adora knew this (of course she did, this happens more times than she can count), she stalks silently to the kitchen, placing her bags down, then creeps through the living room to her bedroom.
Smirking, Adora walks into the room, where Catra lies on her bed, on her phone, fully immersed in whatever she is doing. Knowing this, Adora takes this as an opportunity to shout loudly, “Hey Catra!”
“Ah!” Catra drops her phone on her face, causing Adora to start laughing maniacally at her suffering.
She looks up at her friend who’s wearing a ‘Living my best life’ white t-shirt (how hard she had tried to stop her from buying it) and a contrasting pair of Nike leggings. Adora’s style is very much big brand based and big slogan based. Catra can’t decide whether she hates it or likes it purely because it’s on Adora’s person.
Catra, on the other hand, is wearing her favourite pair of ripped jeans, and is comfortable in Adora’s vintage Adidas hoodie that she had lent her, with a maroon crop top underneath.
Once the laughter stops, Catra gets up, and screws her face at Adora, “Dude, it wasn’t even that funny, like, you’re such a child…”
“Yeah, well, I’m okay with that, and honestly, you’re right, it was just the face you made which was so funny,” she snorts, then goes to start taking out the lighting equipment and tripod, setting it up for the video.
“Also, what took you so long?” Catra raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, it's because...I got you something!”
Catra narrows her eyes, “Why?”
“Can I not treat my friend with the love and respect they deserve?”
“I don’t deserve either of those things, but sure, let's say I did: What is it?”
Adora ran out of her room, and came back in with a McDonald’s bag.
Catra gasps, “You didn’t!”
“I did.”
Smiling, Catra grabs the bag and opens it up, happy to find a twenty chicken nugget box ready to be devoured. She mutters, “Oh my gosh you’re such a goddess Adora,” before sitting back down and stuffing her face with the nuggets. Adora helps herself to a few then goes back to setting the equipment up.
After finishing, Catra forces herself up off Adora’s (heavenly) bed, and sits herself down on the ‘filming sofa,’ watching Adora decide where exactly to place the light, looking back and forth between the light and the viewfinder of the camera.
Tongue sticking out in concentration, she lets out a ‘hmm’ noise, before Catra says, “Hey, Adora, you still haven’t told me what we’re filming, you know that, right?”
“Yeah! I completely forgot, my bad Catra,” she gives her a small smile, the kind where it’s hard (near impossible) not to at least feel like smiling back, and Catra’s face couldn’t help but give in, especially to Adora. Adora and her stupid smile, and her stupid face.
Stupid is good though.
Unbeknownst to Catra who is still very wrapped up in her thoughts, Adora is already explaining the video idea.
“...reading these fan-fics they sent us, and I guess they’re to do with you and I–”
“Woahh there princess, I don’t think you realise what you’re getting yourself into,” Catra has a smirk on her face when Adora looks up from fiddling with the camera settings.
Acting as if it’s a challenge, Adora returns Catra’s smirk with a grin of her own, retorting, “Of course I do, I just wanted to try something that was...new,” and then bites her lip, (it must have been on accident) whilst still having that stupid grin on her face.
Catra rolls her eyes, and fights the urge to tell Adora to never, ever bite her lip, or do anything remotely likeable and gross again. Gross isn’t the right word, Catra thinks.
Adora giggles a little, then collapses next to Catra on the sofa, sitting right in her personal space bubble that she constantly loves obliterating. Catra doesn’t exactly mind. And Adora knows that, which is why she does it. She still pretends to hate it though.
“Ugh, Jesus Adora, do you have any chill at all?” Shoving her, Catra groans, knowing she isn’t going to budge.
“Of course I do…” Trailing off, Adora realises she's forgetting something pretty necessary for the video.
“Oh shit—where did I put my phone again?” She jumps back up again, checking underneath the sofa for it, and once she realises it isn’t there, she scans her desk for it too.
As she's doing so, Catra sighs heavily, Adora’s phone in hand. The words, ‘You were sitting on it dumbass’ linger on her tongue, but before she has the chance to get it out, her friend already turns around to snatch it off her.
Waving the phone in Catra’s direction dramatically, she says, “Don’t. Even. Say. A. Word. I know I’m a dumbass, ok?”
Catra holds back a smile while Adora gets comfortable on the sofa again, most likely on her phone looking for the fanfics her fans sent to her. She doesn’t bother saying anything, instead preferring to just study Adora, and the way one loose strand of hair has fallen in front of her face (she so desperately wants to tuck it behind her ear); the way her skin looks so perfect it’s glowing; the way that even now you can tell she's so ready and excited to film.
“Okay!” Adora says, lively as ever. “I have like three fairly chunky fics here, I don’t know if we’ll get through them all, though if we could that would be great. Sound good?”
“Yeah, alright,” Catra replies, blasé as always, then just as Adora is about to press record, she has another thought that can’t be kept in the vault of forgotten questions. “Hey, have you checked these? You know, to see if they’re, y'know...age appropriate?”
Adora raises her eyebrows, “Since when did you care about being age appropriate Catra?”
“I don’t but–“
“Exactly, which is why, if it isn’t, then c’est la vie. And anyway, my fans wouldn’t send me anything that bleach worthy, so it’s fine Catra,” giving a small, reassuring smile, Adora presses the record button, so they could finally get to filming this video.
The camera is fixed on the two girls, with Adora's YouTube plaques (100k and 1million) above her on the wall, and other things such as fan art and posters.
“Hey guys, it’s Adora Belle here, and we’re back with another video for y’all! I am here–“
“As always,” Catra coughs.
“–With your fav, and my fav...Catra!” Adora wraps her arms around Catra’s small frame, smiling at the camera while Catra fake gags.
Once she finally lets go—does she usually hug me for that long?—Catra says a simple, and almost threatening, “Hey,” looking into the camera for what feels like too long to be normal, before looking back to Adora to complain about the fact that she has been looking into the camera for too long to be normal.
“Why are you making this intro so long and awkward on purpose?” She shook her leg in an attempt to come off as angry, but Adora just responds with a grin.
Adora doesn’t let Catra win, and instead continues as normal. “It’s called a change of pace Catra and anyway guys, as you can tell,” She starts, “Catra is very excited for today’s video, where, by popular request, we’re gonna read your fanfics–”
“About us,” Catra says in a scandalous tone, Adora nodding along enthusiastically.
“So we asked you guys to send us some of the stuff you’ve read or written.”
“And it’s gonna be some weird shit, I can already tell.”
“Catra! Have more faith in my audience!”
“I dunno Adora, a lot of your audience are into some weird stuff, so, I'm just preparing for the worse,” she shrugs.
Shaking her head disapprovingly, Adora continues, “We have a couple that we've picked out, the first one—” she unlocks her phone, then pulls up one of the many google tabs she had open. “—is a ‘High School AU’...wait, what's an AU?”
Catra starts chuckling, “have you ever actually read a fanfic?”
“Well, I have actually, but—this isn't the point of the video Catra, it's not the make fun of Adora challenge—”
“It should be,” smirks Catra.
“Ugh, what does it stand for?”
Bringing a finger up to Adora's forehead, she says, “Alternate Universe, dummy,” then slumps back again, waiting for Adora to continue.
“Okay, so, it's a universe where we're back in high school?”
“Pretty much.”
“Don't people realise that high school sucks?” Adora seems utterly baffled at the concept that High School could be even close to fun—years of bullying had taught her otherwise. The only saving grace was Catra, then she had to leave and go to Bright Moon Academy, where although she made new friends, none of them compared to the girl she’d known most her life.
“Probably not.” Catra answers, “Anyway, less chatting and more reading!”
“Fine, fine!”
The first fanfic they read is based on a story Catra told a while back on her channel: they got caught in a bathroom stall smoking weed; actually, Adora was just there, but she had decided to take some of the blame, getting herself in trouble for it too.
They got caught, suspended for a few days, grounded from seeing each other for a couple more, (Catra got in far more trouble in the long run though). All the expected consequences. All real consequences.
However this fan fiction is not real, therefore did not have real consequences. Instead, the teacher, in this concoction of a story, let them off with a warning, then just left them there, presumably to...to put the weed away?
“I wish it happened that way...definitely wouldn’t of got my ass beat as much as I did back then.” Catra mumbles the latter half of her sentence, however Adora (and the camera) still picks it up, earning her an exasperated smile.
“Well, because of you, my flawless record was tarnished, so you’re lucky YouTube worked out.” Adora’s face still has a grin plastered on it.
“I’m lucky? Pfft, what would you have done to me princess? Beat me up with those muscles of yours?” Catra raises her eyebrow, challenging her friend.
“You’d probably enjoy that too much.”
Oh. She is good.
Catra’s usually snappy retort is now non existent, and instead replaces itself with an almost embarrassed look, her cheeks rosier than normal.
Trying to revert back to her regular witty self, Catra rolls her eyes at Adora and asks with boredom leaking out of her voice, “What’s the next line then?”
“Oh, it’s you actually.”
Catra inches a little closer to Adora on the sofa, arm naturally slithering around to her shoulder, then, dramatically read the next line:
“Catra knelt down, arms resting Adora’s lap, whilst peering into her ocean blue eyes,” Catra gave herself a second to sigh and continued, “then she said, ‘hey, it’s okay princess, we didn’t get caught, and I promise it won’t happen again.’”
Adora turns to face Catra, “Didn’t I actually make you promise not to smoke in the stalls again?”
Catra looks up at the ceiling, trying to recall that certain memory, “Oh yeah, you did, haha!”
Getting back to the fan fiction, Adora reads out the next line, obviously making it far more dramatic than it needs to be. Still facing Catra, she says, “‘You promise?’” It’s said with so much conviction, for a second Catra forgets they are just reading a fan’s work.
Whoever wrote this is gonna nut watching this video, Catra thinks, before saying her bit of dialogue, attempting to keep the intensity at the same level as when Adora read.
“‘I promise,’” she continues, “Then, all of a sudden, the stall had gotten even hotter – (how?) and their faces even closer – (what—why?), and before they knew it, all they could see was each other as their—Do I have to keep reading this Adora? This is torture.”
Adora, who is stifling giggles throughout that whole paragraph, creases her face, then says, “What? Of course Catra, it’s getting to the good bit, this is the whole point of the video, keep reading!”
Groaning, and taking the phone out of Adora’s hand, Catra keeps going, a little less enthusiastically at first, but once she gets going— Catra could tell Adora wanted her to read everything like this.
“As their breaths mingled together, and finally, fucking finally—I didn’t know your audience were allowed to swear Adora—they were kissing, and it was amazing.” Catra can’t help but laugh a little, nor can Adora who has slipped out of Catra’s hold and onto the sofa, gasping for breath as she kicks her legs up.
“I just—I can’t, I can’t even, the way you’re reading this is gold Catra…” Adora is practically wiping tears away. She sits back up again, and Catra looks at her incredulously.
“It wasn’t that funny.”
“No, but you're that funny.” Adora flashes her infamous smile (and Catra can’t find it in her to roll her eyes in return) then takes the phone back.
“I think that’s enough of that fic—oh wait, there’s an author's note. It says, ‘I hope you guys enjoyed, this was a request I got, and I couldn’t not write it, these two are so cute together–’”
“Why does everyone think we’re together?” Catra does an over the top sigh, looks towards the camera and says, “Guys, we are friends. Best friends, not together. Capiche?”
Catra and Adora both used to read the countless comments about their ‘relationship’ and both say how stupid it was, or just straight up laugh at them. They had never denied it, because what was the point? People never believe you anyways. But, this video—as much as Catra hated to admit—was a risky one, if they didn’t make it abundantly clear that it was a joke. Because if they didn’t... it would be a shitstorm. Catra could imagine both her and Adora’s subscribers losing their minds.
All of a sudden, a new thought hits her like a train. Why does it matter so much? Image? Catra doesn’t exactly have a good one anyway, and if anything, it would be worse for Adora. But she is already in most of her videos, so clearly Adora doesn’t care either. So what would actually change?
Wait, Catra’s train of thought stops. Why am I thinking about dating Adora anyway?
Beside her, it seems Adora is having her own internal dialogue. When Adora gets caught up in her thoughts, she tends to bite the inside of her cheek, and just as Catra finds herself in reality again, she glances over to see her doing exactly that, for maybe a second or less, before turning her attention back to filming.
Their focus is back on the video, and Adora is pulling up the next fic.
I wonder what she’s thinking, Catra wonders, curious. Adora’s alluring face has sucked her in once again, without her even realising.
Snapping out of it, Catra clears her throat, embarrassed as she knows Adora would have to edit all this footage of her just staring.
It isn’t on purpose though.
Adora looks up, slightly confused, but she continues nonetheless. “Okay, in the tags of this next fanfic it says...fluff?”
“It means it’s like cute or healing for the soul or whatever.”
Adora snickers, “That’s an interesting way to describe something.”
“Well the person who thought it was a good idea to write this is an interesting person.”
“Catra!” Despite the outrage, Adora is clearly more amused by the comment than she is annoyed. “I’m sorry whoever wrote this, she does not mean it, do you?”
“Nah, I totally mean it,” Catra picks at her nails.
“Catra.”
“I’m just fucking with ya, chill, I don’t,” she tilts her head and smiles into the camera, teeth and all.
In this fan fiction, Catra lands herself in hospital over a dare her old school friend/rival, Lonnie, coaxes her to do.
“This actually nearly happened…” Catra admits, head shaking, and a finger on her temple.
“What!?And you didn’t think to tell me about it?” Adora looks slightly slack-jawed.
Catra shrugs, “Never came up in conversation I guess.”
Hospital Catra meets Adora, who is her nurse, and decides that the most interesting thing she can do to keep herself sane - despite all the morphine - is to flirt with her.
“Catra looked at the blonde blankly, staring her up and down before humming, ‘If I had known I’d get such a pretty princess as a nurse, I would have broken my leg earlier.’ Wow, I am such a flirt, even laid up in bed!”
“It’s slightly worrying how highly people think of your flirting skills,” Adora laughs.
Catra responds with a pout. “I am an amazing flirt and your subs knows it Adora!”
“Sure, Catra,” Adora has a sardonic smile on her face.
Adora continues while Catra just stares, not completely listening to whatever is happening in the story. She doesn’t even realise she’s doing it.
It’s back to her again. “‘I’m doing just fine, princess. Even more so now that you’re here,’ she replied with a wink, making Adora feel even more amused.”
Catra does the same, winking at her friend, with her tongue sticking out.
“Hate to break it to you Catra, but I’m not amused like nurse Adora is,” says a straight-faced Adora.
“I know you want to laugh Adora...I know you do,” she wiggles her eyebrows and Adora can’t help but let out a little giggle.
“Fine, fine. It was slightly amusing,” she says, staring right into Catra’s eyes.
She’s basically staring into my soul, comes to Catra’s mind in this moment.
Adora reads the next piece of dialogue, “‘Is it alright if I take your vital signs? We do need to have that information on file.’”
“‘Do what you need to, princess,’ I replied. Damn, how many times am I gonna call you princess in this?”
“Probably too many, which is the same in real life.”
“Let’s add a counter!”
Adora blows a stray hair out of her face, “More work for me, but...fine.”
“Of course you couldn’t resist me, princess,” Catra grins, white teeth on show.
“And that’s number 3 folks.”
Soon enough, nurse Adora, and patient Catra are on a first name basis. Patient Catra also somehow convinces the nurse to buy her a bunch more pillows to be as comfortable as possible.
“Okay, two things: why do people actually know this type of shit about me? I mentioned I like to sleep on a heap load of pillows like once!”
“That’s the internet for ya.”
“Sure. But second of all, I’d bet you’d be a shit nurse.”
Adora gasps, “You know that’s not true! Who patched you up all the time when we were kids?”
Catra pauses to think. It wouldn't have been anyone else.
Despite that thought, her reply is still completely Catra.
“Well, you know nothing about actual medicine, so my point stands.”
Adora huffs. “There’s no reasoning with you, is there?”
“Nope.”
Patient Catra actually wakes up with almost eight pillows surrounding her, just as she’d been promised. Nurse Adora walks in, their schedules seeming to maths up perfectly.
Catra reads her line, “‘Hey Adora~ Come back to actually fight me this time?’”
Adora laughs, “I’m pretty sure you’ve actually said this in a video once.”
“Your fans have too much attention to detail,” Catra sighs.
“Anyway, Nurse Adora’s responds saying, ‘Nah, I have a feeling you’d win anyways, Ms. Motorcycle trick doer.’ Actually author, I would obviously win so, watch yourself.”
Somehow that’s what most offends Adora about this whole story.
Apparently she isn’t bothered in the slightest about the worrisome amount of people ‘shipping’ her with her childhood best friend.
Just friends. Just friends.
Catra continues. “‘Fight me, princess,’ Patient Catra grumbled, making the blonde laugh one more time. Damn I really wanna get pummeled for some reason.”
Adora shakes her head, reading on, “‘Is this your way of asking me on a date? Aww, I didn’t think you liked me.’ Catra’s freckled cheeks became a deep shade of red as she stumbled over her words in an attempt to refute the nurse’s claim.” She emphasises the words ‘freckled’ and ‘deep,’ staring straight into the camera with as much flare she can muster, saying it as if she really believes it.
Perplexed as to why, it makes Catra stutter her way through the next sentence. While Adora thinks it’s just her good acting, Catra knows it’s actually just her being very inept.“‘I-I, What! No, I don’t like you! Get over yourself, princess!’ That’s like 5 on the princess counter now, jesus man.”
“Oh yeah your right! I think if it gets to ten you should do a forfeit.” Adora’s lip quirks up.
“What? No fucking way is that gonna happen pr—Adora…” Catra recovers from her slip up, jabbing Adora on the side and saying, “let me, keep reading!”
“Okay, okay!” she says with a laugh.
Another ‘fight me’ and a week later in the fiction world and Catra is about to get discharged.
“Ooo, that means we’re nearly finished! And it’s actually been fairly platonic!” Adora says with surprise in her voice.
“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Catra says then reads the next line, “They had started this snarky but playful kind of friendship between the two of them. But even Catra had to admit that she would not mind pressing her lips against the blonde’s for a while…a long while. Wow Adora, that’s very platonic, huh?”
Adora, says a half-hearted “shut up,” and shifts closer to Catra, arms snaking underneath hers, moving the phone a little closer to her in the process.
Even the Nurse version of Adora is a sweetheart, and gets Catra a present; a cat mug with the words ‘fight me?’ written on it and her number.
“Aww, that’s so nice of me!” Adora claps, while Catra fake gags. She ignores her friend, and reads the last couple lines of the fic, being the messages sent between them after Catra receives her gift.
Adora reads the last line. “Catra says ‘I might just have to hold you to that, princess.’ Adora replies, ‘Only if you let me be your personal nurse till you recover. Then we can fight, though I’d much prefer if we cuddle,’ with a smiley emoji.
“Then Catra says, ‘Who said we can’t do both?’ And that, is the end of that fic folks!”
“Okay. That wasn’t too bad, just some mild bad flirting.”
“Like your flirting is any better Catra,” Adora snickers.
“Excuse you! I’m a great flirt and you know it!” Catra over exaggerates how offended she is for the camera.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Adora winks, which feels slightly out of character for her. Not that Catra minds. In fact she finds that she doesn’t mind at all.
They were finally down to the last fanfic now.
“Hopefully this one is as tame as the last, because I don’t expect anything worse from your audience Adora.” Catra really does mean that. Something about all these people seeing her and Adora that way just makes her skin itch.
It’s not because she thinks Adora is gross or something. But she’s just doesn’t think her friend sees her that way. And obviously she doesn’t either.
Obviously .
Adora reads out the summary of the next one, and it sounds pretty interesting, especially since Catra sounds like an absolute badass.
“I’m a mafia leader,” she says, as smug as ever, “And you’re my side hoe, this already sounds like a masterpiece.”
Adora laughs, “shut up and read.”
Catra nods, then says, “aight, let’s get started with this one then, I’m trusting you guys that I’ll enjoy it.” She points into the lens of the camera.
Adora passes her the phone, shoulder leaning into hers. “You can start this time.”
“Sure thing princess,” she replies absentmindedly, not noticing the fact Adora doesn’t mention the ‘princess counter’ or the upturned lips as she says the ancient old nickname.
Catra has called Adora that for as long as she can remember. She doesn’t exactly remember how it started, but she knows they were around ten years old when Catra had first referred to her as such. Catra assumes that Adora had probably done or said something pretentious and she had decided to make fun of her for it. Continuously. Adora had hated it at first. Over time however, it had grown on her. And after losing touch for a while and not hearing those words for what seemed like far too long, she seemed to welcome it back happily with open arms. It was nice calling her it again.
Regaining her focus, Catra remembers that she is supposed to be reading this fan-fiction.
“Have you already lost where we are dummy? A.K.A, the beginning?” Adora grins, looking at her with knowing eyes.
Catra snaps back at the low blow. “Has your jankey camera already lost focus? I think it has,” she says, pointing at the viewfinder.
Rolling her eyes, Adora groans, “shut up Catra.” She holds her hand in front of the camera, and when that didn’t work, she gets up to do it manually.
She sits back down—I swear she’s gotten closer, Catra notes—and nudges her again.
Catra knows they are definitely over fifteen minutes already. I’m sure the viewers will love this, but frankly this isn’t helping anything, Catra thinks as they get started.
“Oh my god, Bow’s in this fic! And Glimmer! Which one are you?” Adora is far too excited over her friends appearing in the story.
“Hmm, I’ll be Sparkles, I’d say my impression of her is a ten out of ten.”
Adora chuckles, “I kinda agree, sorry Glimmer.”
Before reading the next line, Catra pauses, turning to Adora to ask, “Hey, Adora, can I skip out some of the unimportant prose and shit? I can just act it out right?”
“Sure, it’ll probably save time.”
Catra nods then continues reading as Glimmer.
“‘Concentrate Bow! We are here to take out one of the most dangerous criminals of Etheria!’” Her reading is even more dramatic than last time, especially since she’s impersonating one of the most animated people she knows.
Bow in this fan fiction (even though him being a secret agent is highly unlikely), is pretty much spot on to his personality in real life. They are about to try to apprehend a criminal and he is about to cry. But he holds it together, which is why it is so Bow. Perseverance.
They continue to read, taking turns to read a paragraph or two, and skipping a few out. At some point, Adora’s hand ends up placed on her thigh—which is definitely in frame—and maybe it’s just Catra, but she is beginning to feel real warm in the hoodie she’s borrowed.
Catra ignores it.
They have gotten to Catra’s introduction (about time) and she was sitting in the corner of this nightclub (that mafia Catra owned) on a ‘blood red’ sofa, the same colour as her shirt, with a drink and a cigarette in hand.
“Wow, I am way too cool in this!” Catra snickers, reading on.
“In her lap—oh my fucking god—was a young blonde woman with a split tight black dress—Adora! That’s you!” The laugher comes back once more.
“Damn, I really am your side hoe in this,” she laughs a little too, reading the next line while Catra recovers from her fit.
“Glimmer could only see her naked back as her face was drowned into Catra’s neck, giving her—” Catra’s mouth feels dry, “—soft kisses.”
Catra face heats up a little and blames it on the temperature of the room once again, taking off her hoodie while Adora continues to read.
After all, they’ve already read two fics like this, this is no different.
Mafia Catra drops her drink on the floor as she’s distracted with Adora (who wouldn’t be?) so Adora reads her fictional counterpart’s reply, which Catra finds absolutely amazing, in more ways than one.
“‘Careful…’ ” Adora says it in a ‘soft, teasing’ voice (in the words of the author) that Catra can’t help but begrudgingly love. “‘You don’t want to ruin your favorite carpet, do you, Catra?’”
Both of them burst out laughing, and through tears they continue.
“‘Ha! I hated that rug anyways. I only kept it because Shadow Weaver used to love it!’ Why is this so oddly accurate to how things would be if I was a mafia member with my old guardian?”
Catra is surprised that so many people who were practically strangers had now started using the name ‘Shadow Weaver’ for her old guardian. Being a YouTuber could be so strange at times.
All the characters, despite the alternative reality, are fairly close to how they all behave on and off camera. Scorpia (who appears in the fic too) is bubbly chatty, Glimmer is annoying, Bow is...Bow, and Entrapta is nerdy, but just in a gang. People who watch them through a screen can nail them and their traits, yet she can’t even pinpoint what’s going through her best friend’s mind.
How is that possible?
Fiction Bow and Glimmer are still waiting for an opening, but the guards aren’t leaving, and Adora is still there.
Catra reads as Glimmer, “‘I don’t think we have to worry about her, she’s just Catra’s playtoy for tonight anyway’”
Adora has a shocked look on her face, then tuts, “If only fiction Glimmer knew I doubled as her bodyguard.”
“Yeah, if only,” Catra shrugs far too over the top, trying to keep the energy up.
Mafia Catra is finally alone with Adora, or, as alone as you can be in a nightclub full of people, which for them, Catra is sure is great, but for her, not so much, as she doesn’t really want to read her and her best friend possibly getting freaky.
“Do you, uhh, wanna skip some of this bit?” Catra lowers her voice in hopes the camera won’t pick it up if Adora forgets to edit it out.
“No, why?” Adora responds.
Wow. Is Adora blind or is she really not bothered? And if she’s not bothered, why isn't she? Catra wants answers, but now isn't exactly the time.
“Nah, it’s fine, continue.” If Adora is fine with it, Catra can to be too. She has to play along.
Adora took over, reading, “She took Catra’s jaw and turned her face to her forcing Catra to make eye contact. ”
Then, Catra thinks of something. “Do it,” she says with a smirk, eyes locked on hers.
“What?” Adora furrows her brows.
“What they’re doing, obviously.”
“Oh,” is all Adora says.
There’s a pause. A breath, where they both forget the camera is still recording. Whatever trance the two were in is broken in seconds however.
Like an old phone that was just rebooted, Adora starts back up again after her initial freeze up.
She rereads the line, this time accompanied with the actions. Adora very delicately takes Catra’s jaw, hands soft, warm and so comforting. Even with that damned hoodie off, Catra still feels hot as they keep eye contact for a solid couple seconds, before they both giggle, taking the tension of the moment, and Adora turns back to her phone to keep reading.
Unfortunately, it worsens from there, and Catra is unsure how she’s meant to keep listening to this. She doesn’t have it in her to find it funny anymore. She hasn’t actually been at all if she’s being completely honest with herself. Whereas Adora still seems to be enjoying it. Somehow.
Or maybe she’s just enjoying thinking about all the views this will get, crosses Catra’s mind.
She hopes it isn’t like that. She hopes Adora isn’t like that.
It was only less than a year ago when Catra had found Adora’s channel online, after around three years of no contact whatsoever.
The toughest three years of my life. Catra hadn’t admitted that to anyone but Adora.
They had lost contact because of her shitty foster mom, Sharon—Shadow—Weaver who had moved her away from all her friends, and her best friend, Adora, after finding out Catra was a lesbian at fifteen.
She claimed it was because of a new job, but Catra knew what it was really about.
The old bitch had caught on. Once she found out about Catra’s sexuality, she had put two and two together.
I was in love with Adora.
Who wouldn’t be? She was perfect.
She still is, Catra thinks.
But Weaver, in her old fashioned ways, couldn’t accept it. So she isolated her from the people she cared about. Tried taking her to conversion therapy. It didn’t work. Catra would have never given into her.
She did make herself forget about Adora though. Because she was mad, frustrated. At the world, at Weaver. At herself even. And upset. Catra wanted to believe Adora would find her somehow. Fly in and be the hero to save her.
But how could she? They were only teens.
At sixteen, child services intervened. She moved back in with her uncle (who she had lived with for the majority of her childhood) who was recovering from cancer, and continued like the past year didn’t happen. She tried everything she could to forget all the pain she felt, some things worked well, others definitely didn’t.
Eventually, she started a YouTube channel. It became her number one outlet, and also how she managed to reconnect with Adora.
So really, it was a win-win.
Because she wasn’t angry anymore, and she just wanted her old friend back.
But people change. Of course Adora has changed. Not so much that Catra doesn’t recognise her though.
Or at least up until now.
Adora keeps reading, “And then Catra pulled her closer, letting Adora kiss her deeply—” Catra shifts and Adora continues, “Adora moved her hand down to Catra’s neck—”
Feeling even warmer, Catra wants it to stop but Adora continues, “—feeling all the hick–”
Catra gets up and goes to the kitchen. She can't listen to this anymore.
“Catra?” Adora instantly stops, throwing her phone to the corner of the sofa, following her out of the room.
Leaning over the sink, she turns the water on and splashes water over her face.
Why do I care so much? What’s wrong with me?
Adora is leaning on the door frame, face scrunched up and lips in a frown. “Catra, what’s wrong?”
Me, You…Us? If only she had the guts to say that.
“Nothing.” She looks down at the tap water escaping down the drain, and wishes she could do the same.
Adora scoffs, moving to sit atop the counter, next to the sink, eyes on Catra. “Don’t lie to me, you wouldn’t storm out of my room in the middle of a video if there wasn’t something up.”
Catra closes her eyes. “I just...I don’t understand.”
“Understand what?” Her voice is soft, full of concern, as always.
“You.”
“Huh?” Adora is perplexed to say the least.
“I don’t understand how that isn’t weird for you.”
“What is?”
Is Adora always this clueless?
Catra stands up straight, pacing around. “Those fics, you fucking idiot! What else?”
“Catra, I–”
“No, no Adora, you don’t get to make excuses. We both know how your subs are with us, it’s like you’re trying to capitalise on the fact they all want us to be together!”
Adora jumps off from the counter top, gripping Catra’s shoulders. “Of course that’s not what I’m doing, and if I made it feel that way, I’m so sorry Catra. It’s just a joke to them and I thought you thought that too.”
“A joke?” Those two words have Catra’s blood boiling.
A joke. This is all a joke to her. Just a joke. A joke .
“...Catra?”
Catra steps back, out of Adora’s reach. “You just don’t get it, do you? You can’t just apologise, call it a joke, then let bygones be bygones.”
“Seriously, Catra, is there something else that I’m not–”
“No, no, fuck off, Adora.” Catra starts making her way to Adora’s room to get her stuff.
“Catra, please don’t do this, don’t shut me out,” Adora says, voice cracking, following her into her room.
She’s grabbing her bag, trying to turn a dead ear to the pleads in the background, until Adora’s phone starts ringing and she picks it up from the sofa.
“Hello?” she says politely.
Catra stops to look up at her, and when Adora mouths ‘please, wait,’ eyes glistening, and lips pouted, she groans, knowing she is completely incapable of escaping the grasp of Adora’s persuasion.
She sits down on the bed, picking at her nails, as she hears Adora saying, “Sure, maybe another day though? Yeah, I’m a little...preoccupied at the moment.” Catra scowls at her. “Okay, thank you, bye.”
Hanging up, Adora absentmindedly throws her phone on the sofa, or what she thinks is the sofa. It lands on the floor and she flinches. Catra kind of wants to laughs but she doesn’t. Instead of picking it up, Adora goes to sit beside Catra.
“Catra, I want to understand what’s wrong. You know how much I care about you, right? So please, tell me and I’ll listen.” As if not to scare Catra off, she places her hand closer to Catra’s, but not on it, as if she knows how fragile Catra feels right now, how jumpy, skittish.
Exhaling a shaky breath, she starts. “When we, um, when I moved away, it was because she found out I was gay.”
Adora’s eyes widen and her brows rose. It's clear how desperate she is to say something, anything, but she bites her tongue, listening.
“She took me to, uh, conversation therapy,” a tear drips down. “Obviously didn’t work,” a brief smile flickers on her face.
“I’ve never told anyone. I’ve never really seen why I should. But it still hurts. At times. She figured out because...well it was pretty obvious I really liked you back then and that you didn’t, let’s just say.”
“Uh...what?”
Catra lifts an eyebrow, “You didn’t know?”
A flush creeps up her face—maybe it really was just warm in here—as she says, “I—no I had no idea. Like at all.”
That makes Catra feel stupid for telling her. She just hopes Adora throws that confession in a vault with a lock and loses the key.
“Oh. Well it’s just...yeah I dunno, it just made me feel weird and kinda reminded me of all that, and I know I probably sound incoherent as fuck, but, I just–”
“Do you wanna know why I thought it’d be a good idea for us to read that stuff? I thought that it would be fun at first, sure, but I kinda thought that maybe…” Adora stops herself from continuing, backtracking the conversation.
“I never realised. But I think everyone else did. Or maybe I did but didn’t want to believe it was true, because I never thought that you could. That I could. Even now, I still hide away when people mention relationships and sexuality. Hell, half my subs think I’m just not into anyone at all. But you know it, I know it, and I’m just still not entirely okay with admitting it. And I don’t know why Catra.”
Catra places her hand atop of Adora’s. “Hey, it’s okay, everyone does things in their own time.”
“Yeah, but if I keep going at the pace I am, I’ll never get there. Which is why I thought this would be a good idea. But I hurt you in the process. Just like all those years ago being my dumbass self. Of course I liked you back. Denial is just a big bitch.” Adora’s jaw tightens, looking away. Catra can tell she feels like she’s said too much.
She can never say too much, not with me.
Catra grips her hand tighter, “Hey, Adora, it’s fine, really. It's my fault anyway. For overreacting.”
“No, it's not Catra, really–”
“It is. I clearly upset you. But, I don't know, in a way, I think we needed this. It hasn’t been too long since we got back in touch and I was always worried I’d ruin it somehow. But I haven’t, and now we’ve both learned something new, haven’t we?” Her mouth curves upwards, and Adora couldn’t help but do the same too.
“I guess we have. And now I can make fun of the fact you liked me,” she gives a short laugh.
“And now I can make fun of the fact that you used to like me too, princess,” Catra retorts.
Seconds pass, maybe a minute or two, in Catra’s head, an eternity or two, of kind eyes and small smiles.
She’s beautiful, she thinks, and she almost says it aloud. And why shouldn’t she? Catra doesn’t know, but as long as the words are lodged in her throat, she'll wonder.
Adora clears her throat, and Catra pulls her hand away. “So, do you, um, wanna finish the video, or should I just scrap the footage and we—”
“We can film the outro tomorrow...if that’s okay?”
“You still wanna post it?”
“Why not?” Catra smirks.
“Yeah, why not?” Adora returns the smile.
Catra looks at the time and it’s nearly 9pm. “I should probably go, it’s getting lates.” She gets up to leave but Adora grabs her wrist.
“Stay?”
Catra bites her lip, contemplating whether that’s a good idea or not.
“We can start the new Netflix series you wanted to start?”
Catra sits right back down which makes Adora giggle. “It doesn’t take much to seduce me, that’s for sure.” The comment makes Adora laugh more.
Adora changes into more comfortable clothes, a grey tank top and shorts, and she lets Catra borrow a long t-shirt, the one she always borrows when she comes over.
The pair get comfortable under the blankets and then Adora presses play on her laptop. Frankly, neither is fully concentrating on the show, and Catra is much more aware of how close Adora and her are; how she’s tucked under her arm, safe, feeling as though nothing can harm her, like Adora is her shield from everything she hates about life, from every bad thought, from everything.
Soon enough, it’s past midnight and they are both delirious from being up for so long and decide staring at a screen probably isn’t helping with that.
The lights are off and the two lay down, face to face, making out each others features in the pitch black.
“Catra?” Adora says, words breathy, sleep clearly on its way to overcome her.
“Adora?”
"Did reading all that...did it make you think, like, maybe, what if it was real?”
Catra is glad Adora can’t see the blush that has overtaken her cheeks.
Play it cool.
“What, like what if I was an actual mafia member?” She chuckles at her own joke.
“No...no, the other bits, like the, um, kissing stuff…”
Catra knows she can’t have heard that wrong. But it doesn’t sound right leaving Adora’s mouth either.
“You need sleep, princess,” is Catra’s only suitable response.
Other than combusting.
An indecipherable noise leaves Adora’s mouth as she turns around, back facing Catra as she moves in closer, and her body is pressed against hers. A surprised Catra gasps, but then, rests her head in the crook of Adora’s neck, wrapping an arm around her waist, entangling their legs, trying to leave as little space between the two as humanly possible.
Catra can’t help but smile into her neck and she says, “night Adora.”
“Goodnight Catr...” and just like that, Adora is asleep.
That’s when Catra realises that Weaver has failed, and that maybe she's won.
I’m still in love with her.
***
Then, a week later, a day after the video has been posted, Catra and Adora are watching a new Netflix show, when she gets a notification.
Catra is completely immersed in the series and doesn’t notice Adora’s little squeal until she’s repeating, “Catra, Catra, Catra,” over and over.
“Adora, Adora, Adora! What?”
Adora gets up from the bed, jumping up and down as she says, “Our video is...on the trending page!”
Catra’s eyes widen and the corner of her mouth quirks up as she jumps up too, attacking Adora with a tight hug.
“That’s amazing!” She says when she finally lets go.
“I know!”
“That’s crazy!”
“I know!”
“I can’t believe you’re not fucking with me!”
“I know!!”
Then, she has an idea. Catra’s eyes have a glint of mischief in them as she says to Adora:
“Part two?”
Adora lights up then, grinning wide.