crushes & convenience (permanent hiatus)

by orphan_account

Summary:

It’s 3 AM on a Saturday. We’re in a convenience store with what might be the harshest, fugliest, fluorescent-ist lighting I’ve ever seen.

And this bitch has the audacity to look like a fucking supermodel.

“I’m Adora,” says the beautiful stranger. “She/her.”

“Hey, Adora. I’m exhausted. She/they.”

•

aka catradora convenience store au that i thought of at 1 am

Chapter 1: fugly & fluorescent

Summary:

in which catra has a crush on sabrina carpenter, bow has a tiny bladder, and adora steals a teenager's wardrobe

Notes:

hellooo this is not only my first work in the she-ra fandom, but it is also my first au !! so yay thats very fun woohoo

also idk how american convenience stores work lmao

also i love romance but im terrible at writing it sighs

i just love writing friendship dynamics ok leave me alone

ok i will stop talking now

ps. HAPPY CATRA DAY !!!!

cw// brief mention of animal death

I don’t know what Sharon Weaver has against me, but I clearly did something to offend her. Why else would she make me work the latest shift? Or rather, the earliest shift.

Who the hell wants to be spending their 2 AM working? No sane person, I’ll tell you that much.

 

 

Of course, I hate working at any given time of the day. But, that’s justified. Work is boring. Regardless, I’m not fucking up my entire sleep schedule just so that I can sit in front of a cash register for 8 hours.

Not that I have a sleep schedule.

I just want sleep. Like, all the time. Forever. Is that too much to ask?

I suppose the overnight shift isn’t so bad. No one really needs to buy toiletries at 3 in the morning. No annoying customers to deal with.

But that’s pretty much the only benefit. And after what happened with Salineas Sundaes next door, the morning and afternoon shifts have been way slower than usual. I really wouldn’t have minded working those this week. But the universe hates me, so.

So, in conclusion: This is probably the worst possible time for me to be working and the night shift sucks ass.

It’s all worth it when the paycheck comes in, though.

Not really.

The paycheck’s pretty tiny.

Don’t you just love retail?

I don’t.

Why do we even need anyone working from 12 to 8 AM? I know we’re open 24/7, but what kind of maniac is at a convenience store before 8 AM? What kind of maniac is awake before 8 AM?

I can never understand people that wake up early. Like, okay. You wake up at 4 in the morning. So what? Do you go to bed at 8 PM? What do you even do at 4 AM?

My pity party is interrupted by the door opening. Fucking hell.

Two people walk in. A couple, I assume. An attractive one at that.

The taller one is masculine presenting. Dark skin. Wearing a white crop top with a big heart in the centre. What do you call that hairstyle? An undercut? A buzzcut? I don’t know. That explains why I got fired from that hair salon.

The other one is only shorter by a only few centimeters (which is honestly impressive). Feminine presenting. Blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail that’s way too preppy for the dress they’re wearing. It has a little puff at the top and everything. It’s like Sabrina Carpenter’s character from the 2016 remake of Adventures in Babysitting raided a teenage girl’s wardrobe during homecoming season.

Crop-Top stumbles over their feet. Buzzed, probably. Dancing around the same way a little kid does when they need to pee really badly.

Charming.

Blondie stalks over to the counter, dragging Crop-Top with them. "Welcome to Horde Convenience," I say monotonously. "How can I help you?"

“Hey,” says Blondie. “Is there a bathroom here?”

“There is,” I tell them. “But, it’s customers only, so unless you’re planning on buying something, your friend can piss in a bush for all I care. It’s probably a lot more sanitary.”

They let out an exasperated sigh and grab a bag of chips from nearby. “Will this do?”

“That’ll be 2.99.”

“Don’t you have to scan it?”

“I’ve sold Lays before, Blondie. I know how much it costs.”

“It’s-”

“Sorry to cut this short,” says Crop-Top, “but I really gotta go.”

“Just a second, Bow,” they fish through their purse for a bit before setting 3 dollars on the counter. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you for your generosity,” I say.

Bow gives Blondie a quick kiss on the top of their head and mutters, “You’re the best,” before rushing to the bathroom, which could be a brotherly gesture, but is probably romantic.

Blondie turns to me. I see their face clearly for the first time. Everything seems unreal.

It’s 3 AM on a Saturday. We’re in a convenience store with what might be the harshest, fugliest, fluorescent-ist lighting I’ve ever seen.

And this bitch has the audacity to look like a fucking supermodel.

“I’m Adora,” says the beautiful stranger. “She/her.”

“Hey, Adora. I’m exhausted. She/they.”

She smirks. “Did you just make a reverse dad joke?”

“The only joke here is my life,” I mutter.

Her mouth twists in sympathy. “Rough night?”

“No, I love working the graveyard shift for minimum wage. It’s my favorite pastime, really,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I sigh and rub my eyes. “Sorry, I get snappy when I’m tired.”

“Don’t worry about it. My best friend, Glimmer, is the crankiest person in the morning. I try to not go anywhere near her before she’s had a cup of coffee.”

I nod. “What about you, though?” I gesture toward her outfit. “You on your way back from a school dance or something?”

She laughs. My heart skips a beat. “A few friends and I went out for drinks and stuff. No alcohol for me tonight, though.”

“I’m guessing you’re the designated driver?”

She nods. “Mostly just as a precaution. Bow stays semi-sober almost every time we go out. He’ll have like, two drinks and then his bladder shrinks 5 sizes. I try not to drink much.” I don’t ask why. It’s none of my business, but she answers anyway. “I don’t have an addiction problem or anything- not that addiction is something to be ashamed of- I just… Okay, listen. I’m not a lightweight, but-”

“Your friends say you are?” She nods. “They’re probably right, Princess.” I kick myself for the nickname, but Adora doesn’t seem to think much of it.

She scoffs. “Excuse you. Glimmer and Bow aren’t always right about everything. They just like making fun of me.”

“Mhm, sure,” I hum. “But speaking of Bow, he’s been in there a while and I really don’t feel like cleaning vomit or explosive diarrhea out of the toilet tonight. Or ever, for that matter.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry. Bow doesn’t throw up unless he’s super sick, which he isn’t right now. He’s probably just peeing. Give him time, though. He’s been holding it for a while and I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did. He really takes his time with sanitation, too. By the time he’s done, the bathroom will be cleaner than it was when you left it. We’ve been living together for a year and a half now and he’s actually a very easy person to share a bathroom with.”

Okay, so they’re definitely a couple. “No toilet seat conflict?”

Adora shook her head. “Bow’s trans, so that’s never really been a problem for us.”

“Oh.” I’m an idiot. “I’m sorry for assuming.”

“Don’t worry about it. He’s been really nervous to transition since before he even came out, but he just went through with top surgery recently. That’s actually what we were celebrating tonight. He gets so happy when people say he passes as cis. Obviously, there’s no right or wrong way to be trans and ‘passing’ is nothing more than a societal construct. But, it means that the old ladies at church won’t misgender him anymore.” There’s a small, but genuine smile on her face. “If that makes him happy, it makes me happy, too.” Tears pool at the corners of her eyes.

“You’re proud of him,” I say. It’s not a question. I know the answer.

“I really am. He’s come so far.” She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye and sniffles. “Sorry, I get emotional after the clock strikes 12.”

“Well, you’re about 3 hours overdue then,” I say with a grin. “But hey, I get it. If I weren’t working right now, I’d either be sleeping or drinking wine while sobbing on my bathroom floor,” I joke.

I expect her to laugh, but her eyebrows are knitted in concern, her eyes still shiny with tears.

“I was kidding,” I explain to her. “That was a one-time thing. I was drunk and my hamster died.”

Her bottom lip startes quivering. “I’m so sorry.”

Oh my god, she’s actually about to cry. I made her cry. Holy shit. “Adora, no-”

She makes her way behind the counter, past the swinging door. We really need to put a lock on that thing. Adora engulfs me in a hug. She smells like cinnamon. “You must miss them a lot.”

“Adora, it’s really okay-” She buries her face in my shoulder. She needs to hunch over to do so, seeing as she’s 4 whole inches taller than me. I feel the sleeves of my shirt dampen with tears. Holy shit, this girl is genuinely upset over a hamster that she never even met. “Princess, are you sure you didn’t drink anything?”

“I’m positive. I just… I can’t handle when pets die, okay? It’s just so… sad.”

I rub her back gently as she cries. “Shh, it’s okay, Adora. Pooka’s in a better place now.”

“Pooka.” She snivels. “That’s such a cute name.”

“I named him after the flesh eating demons from the Beast Island Chronicles.”

She’s weeping, the poor thing. “That’s adorable.”

Someone walks in. “Hey, sorry I was in there for so long, I-” He stops talking when he sees us. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Go away, Bow,” Adora mumbles, her voice muffled by my shirt. “Life is a disease and death is the only cure.”

He looks at me. “Is she okay?”

“We were talking about my dead hamster.”

Bow’s mouth forms an ‘o’ as if that’s a valid explanation. “We try not to bring up dead pets in front of her. She gets really emo about it. Especially when she’s ovulating.”

“Bow!” Adora lifts her head from my shoulder, her arms still wrapped around me. Heat rushes to my cheeks as I try to look anywhere that isn’t her tear-streaked face. “I told you that in confidence!”

“C’mon, ’Dora. We gotta get home soon.”

Right. Adora has a boyfriend. Who she lives with.

She pouts (adorable) and untangles herself from me. I’m ashamed to say that I miss the feeling of her skin against mine. “I was just comforting them about their hamster.”

Bow rolls his eyes lovingly. “I’m sure you were. Now, come on.”

She grumbles and makes her way back to him. She looks at me. “Wait, you never told me your name.”

I consider telling her. There’s really no reason I shouldn’t. She seems harmless enough. I probably won’t ever see her again.

But I don’t do that. “You better get going, Princess.”

I’m not sure why. Maybe because suspense is exciting. Maybe because people make weird decisions at 3 AM.

Adora scoffs. “Well that’s just unfair. You know about my drinking habits and Bow’s tiny bladder, but I don't know your name?”

Bow looks at her in horror. “Oh, so you can go around telling people about my bladder, but I can’t talk about your ovaries?”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not a secret, Bow. Everyone knows your bladder is tiny.”

“Well, your ovaries-”

“Stop saying ovaries.”

“Ovaries ovaries ovaries ovaries-” Adora slaps her hand over his mouth.

“We’re leaving.” She smiles at me before pulling her hand away from Bow’s mouth in disgust. “Did you just lick me?” Bow's too busy laughing to respond. “You’re a child. Fucking disgusting,” she said as she wipes her hand on his arm.

He stops laughing briefly and makes a face. “Ewww, I don’t want saliva on my arm.”

“It’s your saliva, dumbass.” Adora sighs and turns to me. “See you ’round, Stranger.”

I smile. “See ya, Princess.”

I watch as they leave. I’m pretty sure I hear Adora mumble “His name was Pooka” as they reach the door.

After they leave, I come to a rather pleasant realization.

My shirt smells like cinnamon.

Notes:

i was planning for this to just be adora and catra's introduction where they meet and stuff, but then i started thinking that maybe the romance was too subtle so i tried peppering in some ~gay~

idk if it worked tho

guys im so bad at this look away

this is because there arent any other gay girls in my grade and ive never had an epic romance before

also i used way too many commas didnt i

ugh

80% of my writing is just me doubting myself

also i feel like the dialogue was rly dry im sorry

anyways yuh

hello hi how are u

good? thats good.

this was fun

follow me on twitter im fun

Chapter 2: cuddles & coming of age

Summary:

in which adam doesn't know what a guinea pig is, adora is a fish, and bow is homophobic.

also glimmer only eats triangular sandwiches.

Notes:

i love siblings theyre so annoying

aka 1486 words of adora and adam being chaotic twins

also happy halloween lmao

“Ugh, finally,” Adam drunkenly grumbles as I get into the driver’s seat.

Bow and I mumble our sorry’s. “Was Glimmer okay while we were gone?” Bow asks, getting in the back next to his sleeping girlfriend.

“I mean, she’s still passed out, if that’s what you’re asking. But yeah. She’s okay, I guess. What took you guys so long?”

I toss the chips into his lap. “These are for you.”

He looks at me and the annoyance on his face morphs into concern. “Were you crying? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I assure him. “I’m just…”

“Ovulating?” Bow offers.

Adam wrinkles his nose. “Gross.”

I glare at him as I put my seatbelt on. “Yes, Bow. I am ovulating. Happy now?”

Bow taps my brother’s shoulder. “Adora was flirting with the cashier.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Huh? Wh- Excuse you, I-” I sputter, “I was not.”

“You were kinda all over them.”

“Okay, well, I was not ‘all over’ her. I was just being friendly.”

“You were cuddling.”

I start the car. “You can’t cuddle while you’re standing. We hugged. That is all.”

“Wait so,” Adam says, puzzled, “do you know this girl? Did you go to school with her or something?”

I see Bow shake his head in the rear view mirror as I start driving. “That’s the best part. She doesn’t even know their name.”

Adam looks at me like I’m insane. “Why were you cuddling the cashier?”

“We weren’t cuddling! It was just a hug.”

“That’s still weird, Dor.”

“Stop calling me Dor,” I grumble. “It sounds like you’re calling me a door.”

I see him grin in the range of my peripheral vision. He lightly raps his knuckles against my temple. “Knock, knock. Anyone home?”

I swat his hand away. “Let me drive, asshole.”

“You should let me drive. I’m a better parallel parker.”

“You’re drunk, idiot.”

“Would you prefer Dory?”

“Like the fish?”

“Exactly like the fish.”

“What about ’Dora?” Bow suggests.

Adam giggles. “Adora the explorer.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.” I glare at him before turning back to the road.

“Okay, so, why were you hugging the cashier?”

“Her hamster died.”

“Oh no.”

“His name was Pooka. And he was fucking adorable.”

“Did they show you pictures?”

I shake my head. “No, but I bet he was the cutest little thing. And she mentioned that he passed away. So, I got behind the counter and hugged her.”

“Y’know, Dor, I worry about you sometimes.”

“You don’t need to worry about me! I’m fine. You’re the one who’s drunk off his ass,” I remind him as I turn down his and Teela’s street.

“At least I didn’t hug a girl 5 seconds into meeting her.”

“It was an emotional moment, okay?”

“Was she cute, at least?”

I blush as my mind wanders to the freckled heterochromic stranger with the messy pixie cut and lemony aroma. “Yeah. Really cute, actually.” I hear the passenger's seat’s window roll down. “Adam, what are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about it, sister dearest,” he says as he sticks his head outside the window and yells, “ADORA’S IN LOVE WITH THE CASHIER AT HORDE CONVE-” I take my hand off the wheel for a second to sharply tug on his ear, the way Mom used to. “Ow. Fuck you.”

“I don’t even know her name. Or if she likes girls. All I know about her is that she hates mornings and used to have a hamster.”

“Oh, so she’s just like Glimmer then.”

“Glimmer had a guinea pig, not a hamster.”

“So? They’re both rats. Same thing.”

I make a strangled noise. “How are we related? You’re awful.”

“You’re awful!”

“You’re both awful!” Bow’s voice says from the back. “Do you know how tiring it is when two of your best friends are twins?”

“Okay, back to Adora’s cashier crush.”

“It’s not a crush. I know nothing about them.”

“Adora, I know what I saw,” says Bow. “She’s gay and she likes you.”

“How can you know that?”

“People with that haircut are not straight.”

“Bow, you can’t stereotype people. It’s queerphobic.”

“I’m literally queer? Everyone in this car is queer. Adam is like, the only person in our friend group who's not queer.”

“Our token heterosexual,” I offer.

“Exactly.”

Adam blinks. “Guys, I’m right here.”

“We’re aware,” I tell him.

“But anyway, Adora. She definitely likes you. I mean, she called you Princess for god’s sake.”

My face feels warm, remembering the fabric of her shirt against my cheek and the way my name just sounded so much special-er when it came from her mouth. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Are you joking?” Adam exclaims. “If a girl called me Princess, I’d propose.”

“Adam. You’re engaged to Teela.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Speaking of Teela,” I pull up in front of their house. “Welcome home, Adam.”

“Did you just welcome me to my own house?”

“Uh. Yes. Now go inside. I promised your fiancé I’d have you home about an hour ago.”

He undoes his seatbelt and leans over to kiss the top of my head. “G’night. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” I call after him as he gets out of the car with the chips.

“You know who else loves you?” Bow says.

“Bow!” I start driving again. “I doubt she even likes me.”

“But she does, Adora! You should’ve seen the look on her face when you pulled away from that hug.”

“Relief?”

“Disappointment.”

“You’re just seeing what you want to see.”

“You wanna know what I see?”

“No.”

“Potential. I see potential between you two.”

“What if I never see them again? What if she doesn’t remember me?”

“I’m pretty sure she’ll remember the girl who hugged her without bothering to learn their name first.”

I groan, tempted to bang my forehead against the steering wheel the way they do in movies. “I embarrassed myself, didn’t I?”

“Hey, no. That’s not what I meant.”

I hear blood rushing in my ears. “I’m so stupid. What’s wrong with me?”

“Adora, look at me.”

“I’m driving.”

“Right, uh.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Listen to me, okay?”

I nod. “Okay.”

“You’re weird. And that’s okay.”

I groan. I know where this is going. “Lord save me.”

“Hey. Taylor Swift lyrics can’t help you right now.”

“Are you gonna tell me that my weaknesses are actually my strengths?”

“’Dora, the things that make you weird are the things that make you human.”

“You sound like a coming of age movie.”

“Do you know how boring you would be if you were just like everyone else?”

I scoff. “Okay, I wouldn’t say boring-”

“I would. You’re such an incredible person. And we love that about you. But if you were perfect all the time, you’d be so annoying.”

“Drunk Bow really has no filter, huh?”

“I’m sorry, Glimmer’s usually the one serving up these untraditional pep talks. But, speaking of Glimmer,” he says. “You know how she always eats the pizza crust before the actual pizza? And her weird obsession with eating corn with a spoon? And the way she refuses to eat rectangular sandwiches until someone cuts them up into little triangles? And that time she went on an ‘all Skittles diet’?”

“That was last week.”

“My point is, Glimmer does some things that a lot of people wouldn’t consider normal. But we love her. An insane amount. She’s your best friend and the love of my life. Glimmer isn’t Glimmer without her weird eating habits. Adora isn’t Adora without her little hair poof thing.”

I smile as I pull up to our driveway. “Bow isn’t Bow without his tiny bladder.”

He laughs. “Exactly. You and Adam grew up together, but you’re still such different people. Sometimes, you just have to realize that there may not be anyone in the world like you, but that doesn’t mean that you’re alone, y’know? Everyone worth knowing in this universe is strange as hell. If the cashier at Horde Convenience can’t see that… they’re not worth knowing.”

I feel my eyes sting. “We’re home,” I whisper.

Bow squeezes my shoulder. “Yeah, we are.”

I look back at him. Glimmer’s head is resting in his lap as she snores softly. She’s probably drooling, but I know that Bow loves her too much to care.

My vision is blurred by tears. I love these two so much.

I undo my seatbelt. “Get out of the car.”

He does, being careful not to wake Glimmer. I step out of the car and he does the same. I wrap him in a tight hug as tears spill out of my eyes. “You guys are my home.”

“And you’re ours.”

I sob harder.

“Wow, your ovaries are really having a field day, huh?”

I slap his arm lightly, still not pulling away from the hug. “Fuck you.”

He kisses the top of my head again. “We love you. So much.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to think about that, okay? You’re always going to have us.”

I nod. “Okay.” I pull away to wipe my face. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, me too.” He steps back and rubs his eyes. “We need to sleep.”

We look at Glimmer, who’s still passed out in the back of the car.

“She blacks out way too often,” I say.

He sighs. “Do you remember where you put the notebook Razz got you for your 21st birthday? The one with the home remedies and hangover cures? Glimmer’s gonna need it tomorrow.”

“It’ll be in the kitchen somewhere,” I tell him. “You grab her arms, I’ll take her legs.”

Notes:

woah that got lowkey emotional around the end? what is wrong with me

bow and adam giving adora brotherly kisses on the head <3

follow me on twitter i am kind of funny

Chapter 3: single & sapphic

Summary:

in which adora dates a bird, catra does math, and scorpia and entrapta are scorpia and entrapta.

also adora's maybe an android user? illuminati music plays

Notes:

this took me a while but ive been pretty busy w diwali and stuff (idk how many desis/hindus there are in the spop fandom but happy diwali!!) so hopefully i get a pass

plus !!!! this one is way longer than the first two so i hope that makes up for it

there were a lot of places in this chapter where i was like "ok i should just end it here" but then adhd said no

like i ramble so much

i go on so many tangents

i just get sidetracked over and over again

i actually had more stuff i wanted to include in this chapter but then i was like "no its too much you gotta stop"

anyways

includes more catradora interaction + entrapta and scorpia towards the end

The second time I see Adora, it’s the 30th of October and I’m working the afternoon shift. The only customers we’ve had all day are teenagers trying to get their hands on cheap booze and toilet paper. The store’s practically empty before she opens the door. “Hey, Stranger,” she greets me as she walks up to the counter.

There’s nothing striking about her outfit other than the fact that she’s wearing it and she looks incredible. If she can pull off a hair puff in 2021, she can pull off anything.

Speaking of the hair puff, it’s still there. The same ponytail, the same little poof thing on top of her head.

I involuntarily smile. “Fancy seeing you here, Blondie. How are your ovaries doing?”

“Blondie?” she asks, mocking offense (and ignoring my question about her ovaries). “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me.”

As if I could. “I remember your name, Adora.”

“Wish I could say the same for you. What did you say your name was?”

“Nice try, Princess, but it’s not gonna happen.”

“Why not, though?” She pouts. “Is it super embarrassing? Are you an undercover cop? Are you running from the cops? Do you have a secret identity? Are you a bio-exorcist demon from the underworld?”

“Only on Mondays. Also, was that a Beetlejuice reference?”

“It was!” Her face lights up. “Were you a Tim Burton kid?”

I shrug “I guess. I wouldn’t call myself an enthusiast, but I like some of his stuff. Particularly the horror stuff. Manages to be creepy and scary without relying on excessive gore.”

“What’s your favorite horror movie?”

I hum. “The Sixth Sense, probably. First one I ever saw. Or Jennifer’s Body, but I’m biased. What about you?”

She doesn’t meet my gaze and sheepishly rubs the nape of her neck, giving me a full view of her bicep.

(Holy fuck, she has biceps.)

“Oh, come on,” I jeer. “You can’t ask me a question and then not answer when I ask you the same thing.”

“I’m not big on scary movies,” she admits.

“I can tell.” I give her an amused smile. The girl is like a labrador puppy. “Come on. You can tell me.”

Her cheeks are pink. She doesn’t say anything.

“Goosebumps?” I prompt. “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?”

She frowns. “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory isn’t a horror movie.”

“That’s what they want you to think.”

“Wha- Anyway, no. It’s not either of those.”

“Frankenweenie? Hocus Pocus?”

“Monster House,” she finally says.

“Monster House,” I repeat. “The computer-animated children’s movie from 2006.”

“I also like Coraline!” she protests. She sighs and shakes her head. “You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you. I just think you’re fucking adorable.” I internally slap myself for my honesty. She has a boyfriend.

Her face is red. Is she blushing in a good, flattered way? Or is she blushing in a freaked out, scared off way?

Either way, it’s not okay.

She finally meets my eyes. “So… Jennifer’s Body, huh?”

(Are you asking what I think you’re asking?)

“It’s not the traditional horror movie, but that’s not why I like it.”

“Oh?” she asks, feigning cluelessness. “What do you mean?”

(I mean, I’m gay as hell.)

“I think you know.”

I feel guilt surge through me. I don’t know if Adora’s straight, but I know that she’s dating Bow. She’s in a happy, healthy relationship and I can’t be the one to ruin that.

This is okay, I try to tell myself. I’m not doing anything wrong. As long as I don’t act on my attraction or make her uncomfortable, we’re fine.

Adora just smiles. “Your name.”

“Why do you wanna know so bad?”

“You intrigue me.”

My heart does a backflip.

I don’t say anything for a moment. She doesn’t either. The tips of her ears are burning red. I’m sure mine are no different. She looks away.

“You’re not getting it any time soon,” I tell her.

Her head snaps back to look at me. “Why not?”

(Because I love that I intrigue you.)

(Because I love that you’re taking the time to talk to me and ask me questions.)

(Because I’m afraid that you’ll stop if I tell you too much.)

(Because I know that once the cloak and dagger are gone, you’ll realize how boring I actually am.)

I shrug.

“You could just give me a fake name,” she suggests. “I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“You’d be cool with that?”

“Not really, but I’m awfully gullible.”

I let out a high pitched giggle. “I don’t have a hard time believing that.”

“So? Are you gonna give me a name?”

(I don’t want to lie to you.)

(Tricking you into believing something that isn’t true seems cruel.)

(I don’t want you to know much about me, but I want everything you know to be true.)

“Oh, Princess. What’s the fun in that?" My voice is low and raspy. I need a fucking lozenge.

She leans over the counter. “If I try to guess your name, will you tell me if I get it right?” Her blue-gray eyes are pleading. My knees feel weak.

“Probably not.”

She scoffs. “You’re a fucking piece of work, you know that?”

“I’m aware.” I decide to change the subject. I don’t want the conversation to end just yet. “Are you stalking me? How’d you know I’d be working right now?”

“If I was stalking you, I wouldn’t have to ask for your name. Also, I wasn’t sure if you’d be working right now,” her eyes are sparkling, “but I’m glad you are.”

(Are you flirting with me?)

(Are you expecting me to flirt back?)

(What about Bow?)

(Are you just being friendly? Are you joking around? Am I reading too much into this?)

“Are you planning on buying something?”

“No, but I had a question about the store.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “A question?”

“Yeah.”

“About the store?”

“That’s what I just said, yes.”

“And you had to come to the store to ask this question?”

She nods confidently. “Absolutely.”

“You couldn’t find the answer on the internet?”

She thinks for a moment. “I probably could, but I wanted to hear it from an authentic source.”

“Okay, what’s your question?”

“Why are you guys called ‘Horde Convenience’?”

I snort. “That’s your question?”

“And what about it?”

“Sorry, it's just…” I laugh. “Are you sure it was so important that you had to drive all the way here?”

“I was on my way home from work and I decided to stop by.” She smiles a little smugly. “You being the one behind the counter was pure luck.”

My face feels hot, my mouth feels dry, and my throat feels restricted, like it’s about to close up. I try to think of something to say.

What do you say when a (seemingly heterosexual) taken girl flirts with you? Is it selfish to want to flirt back?

“Hey,” Adora says, her forehead creased in worry. “You okay?”

“Yeah, uh, I’m fine. Just zoned out, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says, looking down at her feet. “I understand.”

(I killed the mood, didn’t I?)

She’s cute and sweet and ridiculously attractive. But she’s off limits. Part of me wants her to leave and never come back, so I can just forget she ever existed.

Part of me wants to give her a reason to stay. Even if she isn’t into me, Adora seems like a person worth getting to know.

(Won’t getting to know her just make you like her more?)

I push my thoughts aside to tell her, “I think it was a typo, honestly.”

She looks up, confused. “What?”

“The store name? I think it was meant to be Hoard Convenience, spelt H-O-A-R-D, but there was a printing error. That’s my theory.”

“Oh, that’s… That’s interesting,” she says awkwardly.

I pop my lips. “Yeah.”

I’ve met attractive women before. I’ve met unavailable women before. Why does it bother me so much that I don’t have a chance with Adora?

“Well, I guess I got my answer, so…” She gets up from where she was leaning on the counter. “I’ll get going then.”

(Don’t go.)

“Wait.”

“What?”

“Could you… um. Could you stay?” I’m a moron. “If you want to. If you don’t have anywhere else to be. Obviously. It’s not like I care whether you stay or not, you’re just the only other person in the store and I’m bored. It’d be nice to have some company. But you can totally go if you wa-”

“Hey,” she says, a smile dancing on her lips. “I’ll stay.”

“Oh. Cool. That’s cool.”

“Cool as a cucumber.” She goes back to her position leaning on the counter. “I’m guessing it’s been a slow day?”

“Slow week,” I tell her. “People saw the Salineas Smoothies massacre and now they think we’re next.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Massacre? Is that what happened?”

“Oh my god, I was being sarcastic. It really wasn’t that bad. I didn’t mean to actually scare you.” I smirk. “Pretty funny that you believed me, though. You really are gullible, aren’t you, Blondie?”

She glares at me, but I know that she’s not actually mad. “Shut up. What happened there?”

“People keep calling it ‘arson’ but it was just a small fire. No one got hurt or anything, but…” I shrug. “People are easy to scare.”

“I’m people! I’m easy to scare!”

I snort. “Monster House.”

“Shut up. How are you not scared? It’s Halloween eve.”

“Okay, first of all: it being October does not mean that everyone is suddenly a war criminal. Second of all: I’m pretty sure it was an accident. I think.”

“Is arson a war crime? Also, pretty sure?”

“You know the girl who runs the place? Mermista?”

“Teal hair, right? Yeah, she’s Glimmer’s third cousin.”

I rack my brain. “Glimmer’s the cranky one, right?”

She laughs. “That would be her.”

“Small world. But anyway, Mermista’s boyfriend, Sea Hawk, was lighting a cigarette or something and the paper straws caught fire. He panicked and threw the straws at the curtains and… you can guess where it went from there.”

“Wait, did you say her boyfriend’s name is Sea Hawk?”

“Yeah, he’s one of those guys who peaked at 16 and still goes by his high school nickname. Why?”

Her eyebrows are furrowed, like she’s thinking really hard. “Sea Hawk… I feel like I’ve heard that name before…”

“You’re thinking of the bird,” I say.

I mean it as a joke, but Adora’s expression doesn’t change until she gasps. “Is his real name Sean Hawkins?”

“You know him?”

She snaps her fingers. “I dated him when we were in school.”

Part of me is jealous. The other part of me just wants to laugh. “You? And Sea Hawk?”

“I know!” She covers her face with her hand. “It’s so weird to think about.”

“Yeah, I have to ask how that happened.”

She shrugs. “Everyone was rooting for us to be together, so it just... happened. Believe it or not, we were the power couple of Seaworthy Academy. We ended it on good terms, though. He was super understanding about everything. I actually ran into him at the Crimson Waste the night we met.”

“The Crimson Waste?”

“It’s a bar nearby. It’s kind of my go-to hangout place on the rare occasions that I drink alcohol. But, yeah. I had no idea Sea Hawk was dating Mermista.”

“It really is a small world.”

“More like a small town.” She studies my face for a second. “Are you new around here?”

“I am,” I prop myself up on my elbows and look up at her. “Why do you ask?”

“Nothing, I just think that I definitely would’ve remembered seeing you around.” Her eyes widen, as if just realizing what she said. “Etheria’s the kind of place where everyone knows everyone, y’know? I would’ve seen you before. In general. Not because you’re super pretty or anything. Not that you’re not super pretty! You are! You’re so pretty, I’m just-”

(“-not attracted to you”?)

(“-already dating someone else”?)

(“-hoping that you don’t interpret my kindness as flirtation”?)

“Adora,” I interrupt her mid-rant. “I got it.”

Her mouth is still open. Stars, she has no right to be that cute. “Right. Sorry,” she says sheepishly. “You really are pre-”

She’s interrupted by the opening music of ‘You’ve Got a Friend in Me’ by Randy Newman playing. “It’s Bow. Sorry, I gotta take this,” she says, fumbling to get her phone from her pocket.

“No worries,” I say, although part of me wants to smack her phone out of her hand and let her finish her sentence.

As she puts the phone to her ear, I think about how it’s a little strange that Bow’s ringtone in her phone is a song about friendship, considering the fact that she and Bow are clearly more than friends.

(What if they’re not, though?)

(What if I’ve been reading it all wrong?)

(What if they’re just friends?)

(Neither of them explicitly mentioned being together romantically. What if I jumped to conclusions?)

I snap away from my thoughts soon enough to hear Adora sigh. “Okay, I’ll be home in a bit. Love you. Bye.”

My heart sinks a little. Maybe they are a couple after all?

She hangs up and turns back to me. “Glimmer’s sick. It’s just a tiny fever, but Bow asked me to pick up some cough syrup and hurry home.”

I get out from behind the counter to lead her to the medicine as the gears in my brain churn. “Home? Glimmer’s at your house?”

“We all live together. Glimmer, Bow and I. I know a lot of people hate having roommates, but it's a pretty sick apartment. Plus, I’m sharing it with my two favorite people.”

“Me too.” I look around the store, trying to focus on literally anything that isn’t Adora. “I-I have roommates, too. Scorpia and Entrapta.” There’s a stain on the wall that looks like an alligator. That’s so interesting.

“Funny how I know your roommates’ names, but not yours.”

“Hm.” My brain is too flooded with thoughts to come up with a better response. I hand her the syrup. “Here you go.”

“Thank you so much, uh...” she falters. “I still don’t know your name.”

“And you’re not going to anytime soon. Sorry, Princess.”

“Why don’t they give you guys name tags?”

“I don’t know, but watching you struggle is truly rewarding.”

She smirks. “I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“You’d better.” She smiles. “Don’t be a stranger, Stranger. Happy Halloween.”

“You too.”

She leaves.

My shift ends. I go home.

There’s so much that I feel like I don’t know.

I make a list of the things I know. Just to keep me sane.

•

• Adora lives with Bow and Glimmer
• Glimmer is Adora's best friend (no implied romantic relationship)
• Adora dated Sea Hawk in highschool (ew??)
• Bow’s ringtone in Adora’s phone is ‘You’ve Got a Friend in Me’ from Toy Story

•

“There’s a 39% chance she’s not dating Bow,” I tell Scorpia. “But within the 39% chance that she’s not dating Bow, there’s still a 22% chance that she’s dating someone else, because she’s way too hot to be single.

“But also, if she was dating someone else, she probably would’ve mentioned them, right? I mean, she talks about Bow and Glimmer, but she never really brings up anyone else. And I know she’s not dating Glimmer, because she’s already said that they’re best friends. Which brings me to the 59% chance that she and Bow are, in fact, a couple.”

“Ooh, are we running stats?” I see Entrapta poking her head through the door. “I love stats!”

“Wildcat’s got a crush!” Scorpia exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly like a child on Christmas morning.

“That doesn’t answer my question about stats, though.”

“It’s not a crush!” I argue. “I’m just weighing out the possibilities of how compatible she and I are. Hypothetically. And before you ask, Scorpia: No, I do not know what her zodiac sign is.”

“Aw, man.”

“Oh my.” Entrapta hops onto the arm of the couch, like she always does. She says she prefers it to the actual couch, but I think she just likes feeling tall. “Romance.”

“As I was saying,” I continue. “All the signs at first were pointing towards Adora and Bow being an item. I mean, he kissed her on the head, they’ve been living together for over a year, plus she said ‘I love you’ when they were on the phone together.”

“Wait,” says Scorpia. “Correct me if my math is wrong, but you said there’s a 39% chance that she and Bow are a couple, but a 59% that she and Bow aren’t a couple. That doesn’t add up to 100.”

“Scorpia’s math is correct. 39 and 59 add up to 98. There’s still 2% left.” Entrapta looks at me. “Do I need to explain math to you?”

I roll my eyes. “No. The remainder is the very small chance that Adora, Bow and Glimmer are a throuple. They all live together. It would make sense if they were all in some sort of relationship together, right?”

“It is common for people who live together to be in romantic relationships, but not necessary. Example: we are 3 sapphic women who live together, but our chemistry is purely platonic.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense. How do you live with someone as hot as Adora and not be attracted to them?”

“The case could be that Bow and Glimmer are not attracted to women.”

“Or, y’know, Wildcat,” Scorpia says, “it’s possible to live with a hot person and not be attracted to them. You’re hot, but we’re still besties!”

“Scorp, that’s really sweet,” I tell her, “but you’re my best friend, so I will interpret every compliment you give me as a lie.”

“No, Scorpia is, once again, correct,” says Entrapta. “Taking into account your facial structure and features, you are very much a conventionally attractive person.”

“Plus, when you’ve known someone a long time and built a sibling-like bond, it might be strange to think of them in a romantic way.”

“Perhaps the dilemma is not the fact that Adora is overwhelmingly attractive, but the fact that you are attracted to Adora an overwhelming amount.”

“You guys haven’t seen her,” I protest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, I already said that the chances of Adora being in a romantic relationship involving Glimmer are low. She said that they’re best friends.”

“I need to write this down,” she mutters, getting up. She comes back with a notepad and a pen and returns to her spot perched on the armrest. “Alright. You may continue.”

“I just wanna know what the deal is with Adora, Bow and Glimmer. Is it a Harry, Ron, Hermione situation? Is Glimmer just a huge third wheel?”

“Maybe Adora is the third wheel. Or perhaps there is no third wheel at all. Their friendship and/or relationship dynamic is a variable so long as we haven’t witnessed it in person.”

“What about the ringtone?” Scorpia asks.

Entrapta rubs her chin. “Tell me more about this ringtone. I’m invested.”

“Bow called Adora on the phone while she was at the store,” Scorpia explains. “The ringtone was ‘You’ve Got a Friend in Me’ from Toy Story.”

“Customizable ringtone…” she scribbles. She looks at me. “Tell me: Is she an Android user?”

“Uh,” my eyebrows furrow, “I don’t know. I didn’t notice.”

“Hmm.” She narrows her eyes and nods. “Interesting.”

“‘You’ve Got a Friend in Me’ isn’t a song you would associate with your significant other,” says Scorpia. “It seems like she and Bow are just close friends.”

“You might be right.” I groan. “I just want to figure out whether or not she’s single and sapphic.”

“We should conduct a social experiment!” Entrapta says, holding up her index finger. “Or an investigation!”

I snap my fingers. “We should do that. Trapta, you’re a genius.”

“Or,” Scorpia counters, “you could just ask her.”

“That’s a terrible idea. We’re not doing that.”

Notes:

i love entrapta sm she is my child

oh also follow me on twitter ahah

Chapter 4: pumpkin pie & paranoia

Summary:

in which glimmer fails veganism, scorpia is undercover, and catra is the lorax.

Notes:

not too proud of this one but oh well

diwali break just ended and i have irl school 4 days a week + tests and exams coming so updates are gonna be a bit slower

“It went well. I think? I dunno, it was going fine until I tried flirting with her and… I think I made them uncomfortable.” I’m sitting at the foot of Glimmer and Bow’s bed. Glimmer’s tucked into the covers while Bow’s at her side, his brow creased in worry.

“What exactly did you say?” Glimmer asks before swallowing another spoonful of ginger honey, grimacing at the taste. “Bleugh.”

“It’s good for your throat,” Bow chides.

“I just said I was happy to see them again. I don't know what it was. Maybe I was too straightforward. Maybe she really does think I'm stalking her.”

“Okay, that's just dumb. She works at a convenience store in Etheria. It's not that big of a town. You two were bound to run into each other again.” She puts the spoon back in the bowl and hands it to Bow. “I’m done.”

“No, you're not,” he says, handing it back to her. “You need to finish all of it.”

She whines. “I don't wanna.”

“If you don't finish it, you’ll never be cured.”

“It’s a cough, not the plague. I’ll be fine.”

I sigh. “I guess you’re right. I just… I dunno. I really hope I didn't make her uncomfortable. She seems cool, but I can’t tell if she likes me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Your shift ended at 8 o’clock.”

I blink. “...Okay?”

“You got home at 8:30.”

“I really don’t know where you’re going with this.”

“It usually takes you less than 5 minutes to close up. The drive from Archers’ Archives to here is no more than 10 minutes, even with traffic. Most days, you’re home before 8:20. You were over 10 minutes late, meaning you and this cashier girl were talking for a while before Bow called you.”

“I mean, I guess.”

“I told him not to call you, by the way. I’m not even really sick.”

“You were coughing!” exclaims Bow.

“The air was dusty!”

“Breathing in dust can cause hypersensitivity pneumonitis.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

I groan. “I was a disaster, you guys. I was flirting and then for a second I thought maybe she was flirting back, but then they zoned out and I got all awkward again. And then, I was about to leave and she asked me to stay-”

“Hold on,” interrupts Bow. “She asked you to stay?”

“Uh, yeah. It was a slow day. They didn’t have any customers and she was bored. I just kept her company for a bit.”

Glimmer snorts as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“She’s literally in love with you.”

“No, she’s not! I’m telling you, she was just lonely.”

“I don’t know, ’Dor,” Bow says. “It sounds like she maybe definitely 100% likes you.”

Glimmer nods. “If I worked at a convenience store, I wouldn’t talk to a customer longer than I needed to. And I definitely would not ask them to stay. Not unless I was down bad for them.” She pauses for a moment before adding, “This is an alternate universe where Bow doesn’t exist.”

“Understandable.”

“She might not even like girls,” I tell them. It’s true. I don’t know if she likes girls. Not for sure. “I don’t even know her name. Or whether she’s single. She might already be dating someone. God, I didn’t even think about that. I’m an idiot.”

“Just go see her a few more times,” Bow tells me. “Drop hints. You’re bound to figure it out eventually.”

“And if that doesn’t work, we can always interrogate her,” says Glimmer.

“You can’t just interrogate people, Glim. It’s rude.” He holds the spoon up. “Now, finish the ginger.”

“It tastes like fire.”

“It’s good for you.”

“I literally could not care less.”

Bow and Glimmer continue to bicker like an old married couple. I continue to be a useless lesbian. What’s new?

The next week, I see the cashier again, right as her shift is about to end. I still don’t know what to call her. She doesn’t give me any hints.

“I’m working from 8 AM to 4 PM tomorrow,” they tell me. “Just in case you wanna stop by.”

I do want to stop by, but I don’t tell her that. Instead I just say, “Good to know.”

I consider dropping in on my way to work. My shift doesn’t start until 12.

•

I stop by around 9 AM.

“Hey, Adora,” she says with a grin. “Took you long enough to show up.”

The way she says my name sends chills up my spine (in the best way possible).

“How’s Sparkles feeling?” she asks me.

“Glimmer’s fine,” I say. “Bow just gets really worried. He’s protective.”

The conversation continues from there.

She gets a few customers while we’re talking. People buying candy and whatnot. I don’t pay them much attention.

I don’t mean to stare at her, but I steal glances when they aren’t looking. I notice little things about her. The faux enthusiasm in her voice when she says, “Welcome to Horde Convenience, how can I help you?” Their cute little button nose, dusted with freckles. The birthmark near her left eye. The way they bite the inside of their cheek while they’re scanning items.

I’m not stupid. I know that she’s pretty. I’ve known that since the first time I saw them.

But stars, I’m only just noticing how beautiful she is.

She catches me staring from the corner of her eye. I consider looking away.

I don’t do that.

We make eye contact.

She gives me a small smile and turns her attention back to the customer and mumbles, “Come back soon,” as they’re leaving. She turns back to me and resumes our conversation as if the temperature didn’t just go up 100 degrees.

As I’m about to leave, I silently ask her a question.

“Same time tomorrow,” she answers. “Come back soon.”

•

I do.

It becomes a routinely thing. I keep her company at work, she tells me when her next shift is. I come visit her as often as I can.

Every time I enter the store, I learn more about her. I notice more about her.

I still don’t know their name.

I try asking her but she, being the stubborn little shit she is, refuses to give me a real answer.

(It’s endearing, though.)

She doesn’t tell me her name, but she does tell me about how she grew up in Fright City, which is where she met her roommates, Scorpia and Entrapta.

I learn that Entrapta grew up in Etheria, but was always kind of a recluse. She went to college in Fright City, which is how they met. Entrapta has been living here for about a year now, but Scorpia and Cute Cashier Girl (I still don’t know her name) just moved a few months ago. She tells me that she likes Etheria so far, even though it’s a big change of pace from Fright City.

Fright City. The birthplace of my nightmares.

“I used to go to summer camp in Fright City,” I tell her. It's the truth. Mostly.

“That’s pretty far from here. For a summer camp, anyway.”

“I didn’t grow up in Etheria.”

They raise an eyebrow. God, she’s so pretty. “Oh?”

I tell her about how I grew up in Eternia, a town wedged in between Fright City and Etheria. When I was 15, I took a bus to Etheria and moved in with my aunt and grandma. I decide not to go into detail about why I moved. The story’s kind of a downer.

They don’t ask any questions that I'm not willing to answer. I silently thank her for it.

•

She does, however, ask me a few odd questions with no explanation for why:

“Are you an Android user?”

“What’s your MBTI type?”

“What’s your zodiac sign?”

“How many pairs of Crocs do you own?”

I answer all her queries without questioning them. If there’s anything this woman wants to know about me, I won’t hesitate to tell her.

One day, she asks me, “Where do you work?”

It’s not a sensitive topic. In fact, it’s one I’m pretty comfortable talking about. Archers’ Archives is a bookstore owned by Bow’s dads, just across the street. I used to go there a lot when I first moved to Etheria, which is how I met Bow and Glimmer. The place was (and still is) a safe haven for me. When George and Lance offered me a job there, I wasn’t about to say no.

I could tell her. Or I could give her a taste of their own medicine.

I choose the latter option.

“I’ll tell you where I work if you tell me your name.”

Her jaw drops slightly, as if she’s about to protest, but they seem to think better of it. “Well played, Blondie.”

•

“She likes you,” Glimmer says the next day, pushing open the doors of Plumeria, home to the best plant-based desserts in Etheria. We started going there when Glimmer was trying to go vegan. She gave it up in a week, but we still go to the bakery pretty often.

“You haven’t even met her.”

“She’s asked you to come to the store almost everyday for a week.”

“That doesn’t mean they like me, though.” She gapes at me. I frown in confusion. “What?”

“Are you dumb?”

“Excuse me?”

“Genuinely asking. Are you stupid?”

“Glimmer! Adora!” We turn to see Perfuma waving at us at the counter. “It’s nice to see you two!” There’s a tall, buff person next to her with a short, platinum blonde undercut. Their eyes widen as they hurriedly whisper something to her. She looks confused but nods along. I decide not to think much of it.

“Perfuma, hey!” I drag Glimmer to the counter. “It’s good to see you, too.”

“Adora and Glimmer are kind of regulars here,” Perfuma explains to the other person behind the counter. “Adora, Glimmer, I’d like for you to meet our newest staff member-”

“Lynda!” they exclaim. “The name’s Lynda. Spelt with a ‘Y’. She/her.”

“Right,” she says. “This is... Lynda.” Her voice sounds unsure, but I figure it’s better not to dwell.

I smile at her. “It’s nice to meet you, Lynda. I’m Adora. She/her.”

Glimmer doesn’t seem to have the same idea. Her eyes narrow. “Yeah, nice to meet you... Lynda.” I give her a nudge. “Glimmer. She/her.”

“It’s been a while since you guys came in,” says Perfuma. “I’ve missed you!”

“Yeah, well Adora’s been busy being an idiot,” she says, shooting me a look.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “We’re not talking about this right now.”

“Perfuma, would you please tell Adora that she’s being an idiot?”

“Oh, I prefer not to call people derogatory terms,” she says. “It messes with my harmony.”

“Not even your friends?”

“Especially not my friends.”

“This is why I don’t meditate.” Glimmer looks at Lynda. “Will you?”

Lynda looks puzzled and startled, like a deer in headlights. “Will I what?”

“Will you tell her that she’s being an idiot?”

“How’s Bow doing?” Perfuma interrupts before Glimmer can get a response. “Is he not with you guys today?”

“He’s good,” I say, thankful for the change of subject. “He’s out Thanksgiving shopping with George and Lance.”

“Speaking of Thanksgiving,” Lynda says robotically, as if her words are rehearsed, “would you like to try our Thanksgiving specials?” She whispers to Perfuma, “Did I do it right?”

“You did it perfectly,” Perfuma tells her with a kind smile.

“Ooh, can we have 3 slices of pumpkin pie to go?” asks Glimmer.

“An oldie, but a goodie,” Perfuma says, reaching into the transparent display counter. “Coming right up.”

“Your pies are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” I say. “I don’t know how I survived without them before I moved here.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you,” Perfuma says as she starts packaging the slices in a box. “Any Thanksgiving plans?”

“Bow and I are celebrating together,” Glimmer tells her. “One dinner, two families. Our parents are still arguing over where dinner should happen, but Aunt Casta always ends up hosting, so I really don’t see the point. I swear, they do this every single year.”

“It must be nice to have known Bow so long that you know each other’s families so well. I’m gonna go to my parents’ house. Traditional Thanksgiving stuff, y'know. Lynda?”

“Me too, pretty much,” Lynda replies. “Gonna be visiting my moms, so I’ll be out of town.”

“That's nice.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence before I realize that the three of them are looking at me expectantly. “Adora?” Perfuma asks. “Do you have any plans?”

“Uh, yeah,” I say. “Nothing big, I’m just gonna stop by the diner.”

“Wait,” Glimmer turns to me, “you said you were spending Thanksgiving with Mara and Razz.” Oh no.

“I am. At the diner.”

“They’re gonna be working on Thanksgiving?”

“It’s not a big deal, Glim.”

“Yes, it is. I told you, you can join us. You said you had plans.”

“I do have plans. At the diner.”

“Adora, you’re practically part of the family! You, Razz and Mara are welcome to celebrate with us.”

“You and Bow are a couple now.”

“So? That doesn’t mean you can’t spend the holidays with us.”

I try coming up with an excuse. Truth to be told, I’d feel like I was intruding on someone else’s Thanksgiving dinner. But I’m not about to tell Glimmer that. “Still. I wanna spend it with Razz and you’re probably gonna be taking a plane to Mystacor. You know how much she hates flying.”

She sighs. “Is Adam gonna be with you, at least?”

My mouth turns sour. “Adam has plans with Teela and her family.”

“I’m confused, Teela seems sweet,” Perfuma comments. “And she’s quite fond of you. It doesn’t seem like she’d have a problem with you, Razz and Mara being there. There’s plenty of time to prepare for a few extra guests.”

“Yeah, Adora,” says Glimmer. “You’re his sister. You’re allowed to spend Thanksgiving with him. Plus, you get along with Teela’s family pretty well from what I remember.”

“Teela’s family isn’t the problem,” I say curtly.

“Then what…?” Realization dawns on her face. “Wait, are your parents in town?”

There it is. “They will be. They’re staying for Christmas, and then the wedding’s in February, so they’re gonna be here for that, too.”

“You didn’t tell me they were coming.”

“I didn’t know until this morning. Adam texted me. As a warning, I guess.” I can taste the bitterness in my words. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “Okay.”

“Here’s your pie,” says Lynda, handing us a box. “Sorry, was that bad timing?”

“Don’t worry about it, Lynda,” I smile at her and take the box. “It was nice meeting you.”

She gulps. “It was, uh, it was nice meeting you, too.”

“Say hello to Mara and Razz for me!” says Perfuma.

“I will! See you around.”

•

Glimmer and I make our way out of the shop and she whispers to me, “Is it just me, or is there something off about that Lynda girl?”

“It’s just you,” I say. “Also, why are you whispering?”

“She was being really suspicious! Also, I’ve never seen her before.”

“She wasn’t suspicious, she was nervous. She’s probably just new in town. You’re terrible with new people, Glimmer. This isn’t news to anyone.”

“That is so untrue. I’m great with new people.”

“Mhm. Do you remember how much you hated me when we first met?”

“I- Okay, firstly, I did not hate you-”

“Oh, you hated me.”

“Why would I hate you?”

“I don’t know, but you gave me the stink eye that entire first week until Bow forced you to be nice to me.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying. Ask Bow. You’re just not quick to trust people.”

“Maybe you and Bow are too quick to trust people.”

“Maybe. But you need to stop being so paranoid.”

“You need to be more paranoid.”

“Sure I do, Glim.” I glance down at my phone. It’s 4:30 PM, meaning Cute Cashier Girl’s shift started half an hour ago. “Hey, I’m gonna stop by Horde Convenience for a bit, okay? Don’t wait up.”

She plucks the Plumeria box out of my hands. “Wasn’t planning on it. Use protection.”

I’ve given up on protesting against her lewd comments. I roll my eyes and walk to the store.

•

Sure enough, she’s sitting in front of the cash register, looking bored as ever. She smiles when I reach the counter. “About time. I was getting worried.”

“You were worried about little old me? That’s so nice of you.”

“If you think that’s nice, I’m afraid you’re not ready for what’s coming next.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What might that be?”

She looks nervous. I’ve seen her look flustered before, but never nervous. “I got you something.” She takes a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket and hands it to me. “It’s really nothing. I feel like I set you up for disappointment, but… here.”

My heart starts beating faster in anticipation. Could it be her number? Could it be their name? Is it a letter? A note?

(Don’t get your hopes up, Adora.)

I stare at the folded sheet in my hand for a few seconds, unable to find words.

“Well?” says the cashier. “Open it, dummy.”

I unfold it as if it’s the most fragile thing in the world.

It’s not a number. Or a name. Or a letter. Or a note.

“I was making copies of my shift schedule for Scorp and Trap,” they explain, looking down and fiddling with their fingers. “I- completely accidentally- printed an extra one, and I didn’t wanna just throw it away. Save the trees and all that. Y’know. Lorax shit.”

My face splits into a grin. “Didn’t know you were such an environmentalist.”

“Well, I am. Super into the environment. I recycle. Sometimes.”

I’m smiling like an idiot. “Thank you.”

“For the schedule or for recycling?”

I laugh. “For the schedule, idiot.”

“Oh, I’m giving this to you for completely selfish reasons. I’m tired of having to tell you when my next shift is every single day.”

“Right.” I snort. “Thanks anyway.”

“Yeah, well, I figured since you don’t have my name or any way of contacting me, the least I can do is give you a way to know when I’m gonna be working.”

“Or you could just give me your name.”

“Don’t push your luck, Princess.”

Notes:

i dont actually know how to write im just a jobless lesbian who really loves gay cartoons

im always down to talk on twitter so feel free to follow me on there (i need more spop mutuals lmao)

i do have a rough idea of where i want to go with this fic but if u have any suggestions or ideas please let me know!! kudos and comments appreciated <3

also fun fact: this was the first chapter where i didn't use the word 'ovaries'

Chapter 5: forward & flirtatious

Summary:

in which entrapta can't live without crocs, adora doesn't know what m&ms are, and catra's shampoo is fruity.

Notes:

everyone say hello to the second chapter (in a row!!) where i dont use the word 'ovaries' !!

adora: *being a lesbian*

catra: thats very lgbt of u🤨🤨

 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO SHE-RA SEASON 1 !!! cant believe its been 3 years since gay ppl were invented

also next time someone enforces the "all indians are tech geniuses" stereotype, tell them that they're wrong!!! i cant even figure out limited html ffs

i will proofread this later but i am so tired so goodbye now

When Adora runs into me as my shift is ending, I’m not sure what possesses me to think that she’ll be willing to come back the next day.

But she does.

I’m not sure what possesses me to think that she’ll want to see me the day after. I’m not sure what possesses me to tell her, “Same time tomorrow. Come back soon.”

But she does.

She comes back the next day.

And the day after that.

And the day after that.

It becomes a routine.

Everyday.

•

“Ask her for her zodiac sign!” Scorpia tells me. “We need to see how compatible you two are.”

“What was her result on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator Test?” asks Entrapta.

“How many pairs of Crocs does she own? Also, I’m asking again: Is she an Android user?”

I ask Adora. She doesn’t hesitate to answer, for some reason. Maybe she’s just used to people asking her weird questions.

•

“I don’t believe in this stuff, but according to this horoscope website Scorpia showed me, Capricorns are usually ‘ambitious and relentless hard workers who have trouble asking for help,’” Entrapta recites, scrolling through her phone. “They’re romantically compatible with Taurus, Virgo, Pisces and- Oh! Scorpio! You’re a Scorpio, aren’t you?”

“I am, but why are we even talking about this?” I ask. “Don’t you think this zodiac stuff is kind of pointless?”

“Oh, it’s definitely pointless. 100%. Completely pointless,” she replies, still scrolling. “Ooh, they have astrology memes!”

“Entrapta.”

“Right, sorry.” She puts her phone down and picks up her notepad. “Here’s what we’ve got on Adora so far. She used to be an iPhone user, but recently switched over to Google Pixel and has no idea how to FaceTime people, which you said, and I quote, is ‘kinda older person-y but also kinda cute in a dorky way.’”

“Right, yeah-”

“She’s an ENFJ, meaning she’s outspoken, empathetic and genuine. The 16Personalities website says, ‘They are motivated by a sincere wish to do the right thing rather than a desire to manipulate or have power over other people. Even when they disagree with someone, they search for common ground.’”

“Uh-huh. Okay-”

“She also owns 2 pairs of Crocs, which I think is decent. Scorpia, what are your thoughts?”

Scorpia nods. “Yeah, 2’s a solid number.”

“Why does this matter?” I interject.

Entrapta looks up. “Are you referring to the Crocs thing or..?”

“Everything! Why does any of this matter?”

“Well, the type of phone someone uses says a lot about their priorities.”

“Right. Why does that matter?”

“Like I said, it tells you about a person. Do they prioritize convenience or aesthetics?” She shrugs. “Before I get into a relationship with someone, I prefer to know what kind of phone they use.”

“Well, I don’t. Also, I’m not getting into a relationship with her. And why the Crocs?”

“Oh, that doesn't really have any significance. I’m just running a study on how many Crocs the average Etherian adult owns. Speaking of which, how many Crocs do you own?”

“Why would you run a study about that? Also, 0.”

“Data collection. I like knowing things. No Crocs? That seems like a difficult way to live. Why do you hate your feet?”

“Plus,” Scorpia interrupts before I can say anything, “the number of Crocs a person owns says a lot about them.”

“Scorp, Trap.” I sigh exasperatedly. “Maybe zodiac signs and phone brands matter to you, but I literally couldn't care less. If I’m gonna get to know this girl, I wanna do it my way.”

“What’s your way?” Scorpia asks me. There’s no malice or ridicule in her voice. It’s a genuine question.

I pause for a second before telling her:

“I don’t know.”

•

Later that day, Scorpia asks me to make copies of my shift schedule to help her remember when I’m on and off the clock.

As I’m making the copies, I remember Adora. Most of our meetings have ended with me telling her when I’ll be working next.

I realize that I won’t have to do that anymore if she has my schedule.

I realize that it would be an invitation to come see me during any and all working hours.

I realize that it would mean giving up control.

I realize that I’m okay with that.

I print one for Adora. I cross out my name with a black marker.

•

As I’m handing it to her, I realize that she might not even want this. I realize that I just look desperate.

My worries evaporate when I see her leaning across the counter, grinning ear to ear.

“Most people prefer to have their names on their shift schedules,” she tells me as she’s looking down at it.

“My name is there. I even highlighted it for you.”

“In black Sharpie,” she deadpans.

“Exactly.” Doubt is swarming in my brain. I can’t go another second without saying something.”Hey, you know that you don’t have to use the schedule, right? You don’t have to come everyday if you don’t want to.”

She does that confused head tilt thing. “Do you not want me to?” I think she means for it to come off as banter, but there’s a little quiver of fear in her voice. “Tired of me already?”

“No!” I place my hand on top of hers. Her eyebrows shoot up (she’s so cute when that happens). We haven’t actually made physical contact since the time she hugged me. I feel heat rush to my cheeks. “Of course I want you to. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to do anything. I don’t want it to feel like I’m forcing you.”

“Oh.” She looks down at our hands. I expect her to gently pull away and maybe take a step back from the counter, but she doesn’t move. She looks back up at me, her smile playful. “Well, I come here because I want to see you, not because you tell me to. I’m not that much of a bottom.”

My brain short circuits.

1) She wants to see me?
2) She’s a bottom? Apparently?

A lot of information to take in at once.

(Don’t be weird. Say something.)

“You sure about that?”

I internally cringe at my choice of words.

She smirks. “What, do you want proof?”

(Fuck.)

I try to come up with a coherent response, but all that comes out of my mouth is a nervous laugh. My eyes wander back to my hand on top of hers. It’s barely enough, but at the same time it’s so much, I might combust.

It’s right at the tip of my tongue.

(Are you single?)

(Do you like girls?)

(Do you like me?)

The words die in my mouth. Straight girls flirt with each other all the time, right?

It was a joke. Don’t overthink it. It was a joke.

Her phone buzzes. “Are you gonna get that?” I ask her.

“It’s probably just Bow asking if I know where he put the socks Glimmer’s aunt knitted for him,” she says quietly. “They’re in the bottom drawer. It always takes him a minute to find them.”

I shift my gaze away from our hands. Her gray-blue eyes stare into mine.

Her eyes are gray-blue.

Huh. Never noticed that before.

I never understood the big deal with eyes. I get that they’re the window to the soul or whatever, but they’re just eyes. They’re not exactly an uncommon thing.

No one’s eyes are truly unique, are they? They can’t be. There’s 7.9 billion people in the world. Nothing’s really special.

People always tell me that my eyes are unique. They’re not unique. They’re just different colors. I have heterochromia, big whoop.

There’s nothing particularly outstanding or outlandishly abnormal about Adora’s eyes.

So why can’t I seem to look away from them?

Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Is Bow, like, your boyfriend or something?”

Adora blinks, as if that’s not what she was expecting me to say.

(Of course that’s not what she was expecting you to say, dumbass.)

She makes a small choking sound. “Sorry, what?”

I try to sound casual, but my voice still comes out shaky. “You and Bow? What’s the deal there? Are you guys, like… exclusive?”

She looks like she just drank expired milk. “Are you asking me if I’m dating Bow?”

I feel my heart beating through my chest. “Are you not dating him?”

A little giggle escapes her mouth. She looks like she’s turning red trying to hold in her guffaws. “Bow? You thought I was dating Bow?”

“Should I take that as a no?”

She laughs so hard, I see tears form at the corners of her eyes. “Sorry, I just…” she pauses to catch her breath. “Yeah. You should take it as a no. Bow and I are just friends, I promise you.”

Bow and Adora are just friends. Okay. That’s good. That’s cool.

Her eyes widen slightly before adding, “He’s dating Glimmer, though, so don’t get any ideas.”

(What?)

“Huh?”

“Bow and Glimmer. They’ve been dating for years. So, uh. Bow’s off limits. That’s that. I’m sorry.”

(I don’t care who Bow is dating so long as it’s not you.)

(I don’t care about Bow! I care about you!)

(You’re so dumb, holy shit.)

“Oh.” I nod. “That’s, um, good to know. Thank you for telling me that.”

“It’s not a problem. Just don’t want you to do anything you might regret.”

Of all the people to be attracted to, I really chose the biggest moron in Etheria.

Her phone buzzes again. She takes it out of her pocket with her free hand.

She types a quick message and stuffs it back in her pocket. “He found the socks.”

“That’s great.” Our hands haven’t moved away from each other.

“He and Glimmer might be going to Mystacor for Thanksgiving. That’s where Glimmer’s aunt lives. He always stresses out over packing, even if it’s in advance.” She mutters, “I can’t wait for the next few months to be over.”

“Not much for the holidays?”

“No, I am. Usually. This year just isn’t for me. Got some… I think ‘bad news’ is a harsh way to put it, but I got some bad news this morning.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. But if you ever want to,” I shrug. “Go ahead.”

She smiles warmly. “Thank you, Stranger.”

•

When my shift ends, I go home to find Scorpia passed out on the couch and Entrapta high on caffeine.

“Good news,” I say. “She’s not dating Bow. Bad news, she thinks I’m into Bow.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Entrapta says, spinning around in her swivel chair. “About the Adora and Bow not dating thing. I didn’t know that Adora thought you liked Bow. That’s very strange. He’s dating Glimmer, isn’t he? They’re spending Thanksgiving together.”

“How did you…? Entrapta, did you put the spy pen in my coat pocket again? I told you, recording people without their consent is a felony. I’m pretty sure. I’m not a lawyer.”

“I wasn’t recording you. Scorpia told me.”

What the hell? “How did Scorpia know?”

“She didn’t tell you?” She stops spinning. “Ah, right, her phone ran out of battery and she fell asleep before she could text you.”

“Why didn’t you just give her your phone?”

“Oh, I’m rebuilding mine.”

“You’re doing what now?”

“I’ve taken my phone apart. I’m gonna fully recreate it. Fix some quirks, make some tweaks, add some upgrades. That kind of thing.”

I would say I’m surprised, but that's actually very in character for Entrapta. “Whatever. What did she wanna tell me?”

Entrapta’s pupils are large (probably from over caffeination). “She met Adora.”

I blink. “She did?”

“Yup. I’ll leave the details to her, but from what she told me, it seems highly probable that Adora is single.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

Holy shit.

•

“She’s friends with Perfuma,” Scorpia tells me the next day as she drives me to work.

I blink. “Who?”

“The girl who owns Plumeria? Really nice lady. Super pretty and stuff. But that’s irrelevant to the story. Obviously.”

“What the fuck is a Plumeria? Is that a drug? Are you doing drugs?”

“Wh- No, it’s not a drug. It’s the bakery I started working at yesterday.”

“Sounds like a drug to me.”

“She and Glimmer came in and bought some pie, chatted with Perfuma for a bit. Don’t worry though, I used a pseudonym: Lynda. With a ‘Y,’ so that it sounds less made up. If anyone asks, her last name is D’Ream.”

“Right. Lynda Dream. Sounds totally real.”

“D’Ream,” she corrects me. “With an apostrophe.”

“Ohh, got it. Continue.”

She describes her encounter with Blondie and Sparkles. I give her an unimpressed look. “So, you think that she’s single because she’s not spending Thanksgiving with her friends?”

“She’s spending Thanksgiving in a diner! That’s the most single thing I’ve ever heard.”

“First of all: rude. Second of all: single people spend Thanksgiving with their parents, usually.”

“I don’t know. From what I heard, she has a pretty rocky relationship with her parents. Seemed like a sensitive subject.”

“Well, from what I can tell, she’s gonna be meeting someone for dinner at this diner. Did it not cross your mind that she might be going on a date?”

Her eyebrows furrow as the car stops in front of the store. “Oh. I did not think about that.”

I sigh. “Thanks anyway, Scorpia.” I check the time on my phone. “Your shift’s about to start.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the car. “Don’t be late on your second day.”

•

Adora walks in about 40 minutes into my shift. Same dopey smile. Same dumb hair poof. “Morning, Stranger,” she greets me.

“Still calling me Stranger?” I tease. “Here I thought we were friends.”

She goes to her usual spot leaning over the counter. “Tell me your name and we won’t be strangers anymore.”

I snort. “You sound like the clown from It.”

She tilts her head. “From what?”

“It? The movie?”

“Oh,” she says. “I haven’t seen it.”

“Really?” She shakes her head. “I know you don’t watch horror movies, but I thought everyone had seen it. Anyway, one of the first scenes, there’s this little boy and he meets a clown in a sewer-”

“Why was he in a sewer?”

“You’re asking why the clown was in a sewer?”

“No, clowns are weird. I figure they just hang out in sewers in their free time. Why was the kid in the sewer?”

“Georgie wasn’t in the sewer. The clown was in the sewer.”

“But you just said the kid met the clown in a sewer.”

“No, he was playing with a paper boat and it fell into the sewer. That’s how he met the clown.”

“Oh, okay. Go on.”

“Yeah, so Georgie says something like ‘You’re a stranger, boohoo’ and the clown’s like ‘I’m Pennywise the Dancing Clown. We’re not strangers anymore.’ That’s what you remind me of.”

“And then what happens?”

“Hm?”

“What happens after Pennywise tells Georgie his name?”

She really doesn’t know shit about horror movies. Part of me wants to make fun of her while the other part wants to hold her close and shield her from every mildly cruel thing the world has to offer. “Pennywise gives Georgie the boat and he goes home and lives happily ever after,” I tell her. “The end.”

“You’re lying to me. Wow.”

“Why do you wanna know? I thought you weren’t into horror movies.”

“I’m not, but I like listening to you talk.” She rests her chin in her palm.

I’m trying so hard not to fall apart right there. “Trust me, you won’t like listening to me talk about this.”

“Try me.”

“No.”

She pouts and I think I might just break down. “You’re so stubborn.”

“I think it’s one of my more charming qualities.”

She scowls. I give her a wicked grin.

•

“Hey, Adora.” I smile at her as she trudges over. “How’s it hanging?”

She grimaces. “Awful. And it’s all your fault.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t stop thinking about our conversation yesterday, so I watched It.”

“Oh no.”

“Well, I watched the first 5 minutes of It. I turned it off right after that first sewer scene, but I couldn’t sleep last night. It just kept replaying in my head.”

I give her a sympathetic smile. “I hate to say ‘I told you so.’”

“You’re not funny.”

“Here, let me make it up to you.” I get out from behind the counter.

She stares at me. “Woah.”

I give her a puzzled look. “What?”

Her expression doesn’t change. “Nothing, I just can’t believe you have legs.”

I laugh. “You saw them when you got behind the counter the night we met, dummy.”

“I wasn’t paying attention to your legs then.”

I smirk. “How about now? Are you paying attention to my legs now?”

She goes red. “You know what I mean. I was too busy comforting you.”

“You were comforting me?”

“Uh, yeah. Obviously.”

(You’re adorable.)

I grab a bag of Skittles and hold them out for her. “On the house.”

She takes them and smiles. “Gay M&Ms?”

(Was that a gay joke?)

(That was a very gay thing to say.)

(Probably doesn’t mean anything, right?)

(Yeah, probably shouldn’t read into it.)

(Probably.)

“Uh, no. I mean, yes, they’re gay as hell. But Skittles actually have different flavors, unlike M&Ms. Unless you count peanuts as a flavor.”

“Well, they’re both candy, so.”

“M&Ms are chocolate.”

“That doesn’t seem right. I’m pretty sure they’re candy.”

“They’re made of chocolate.”

“They’re made of chemicals.”

“So is everything else. What’s your point?”

“I’ll bet you 5 bucks that M&Ms are candy.”

“I like those odds.”

“Hold on, I’m looking it up.” She takes her phone out of her pocket and starts typing. She makes a face that clearly indicates defeat. “Shut the fuck up.”

I give her a Cheshire Cat grin. “They’re chocolate aren’t they?”

She glares at me and gets 5 bucks out of her pocket. “Go to hell.”

“I’ll see you there.”

•

“Come back soon,” I tell a customer as they leave. When they’re gone, I turn back to Adora. “You were saying?”

“I feel like I should have a nickname for you,” she says. “You have so many for me, even though you know my name. I need at least one for you. If that’s okay with you, obviously.”

The thought of being called a nickname by Adora makes butterflies flutter in my stomach, as cheesy as that sounds. “Knock yourself out.”

“Okay, Rumplestiltskin.”

I can’t hold in my snort. “Rumplestiltskin? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“You haven’t given me a name yet, so yes.”

“Awful. Truly awful.” I shake my head.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like me to give you my firstborn child?”

“It’s the least you can do after I spun all that straw into gold for you.”

“It’s a deal, Jane Doe.”

“Jane Doe? Do you work in a morgue or something?”

“Do you really think I could handle looking at dead bodies everyday?”

“Hmm,” I pretend to think for a second. “Not really, no. You’re kind of a softie.”

“Okay, fuck you.”

Please do, I almost say.

As a joke, obviously. I like her, but I'm not about to ask her to rail me on the counter.

I decide against it. It’s too forward and flirtatious.

“I’m not wrong.”

She huffs. “Whatever you say, Lemony Snicket,” she huffs.

I raise my eyebrow. “Why Lemony Snicket?”

She looks alarmed, as if she said something that was meant solely for her internal monologue. “Oh, um. It just slipped out. I don’t know why I said that.” She chuckles awkwardly.

“You’re a really bad liar.”

She sighs in defeat. “Okay, I… I noticed that you smell like lemons. So, yeah. Lemony.”

(She noticed what I smell like?)

(Does she like how I smell?)

(What if she hates it?)

(I should change my shampoo.)

(Does she like strawberries?)

(I should ask her if she likes strawberries.)

While my brain continues to yell at me, there’s a moment of awkward silence between us.

“So, do you use lemon scented soap, or..?” Adora says to break the ice.

“Shampoo,” I say. “Lemon scented shampoo.”

“I figured.” She shifts her weight from foot to foot, the way people do when they’re nervous. “It smelled, uh, fruity.”

(Interesting choice of words.)

“Yeah. Definitely. Very fruity. The shampoo. Super fruity.”

(The shampoo’s not the only fruity thing in the room.)

“Right,” she smiles. “I like it.”

Holy mother of God.

Notes:

hey everyone!! lmk what ur thoughts were on this chapter:) im sorry it took so long i was busy yelling about taylor swift on twitter

also like,, school and stuff

this chapter included the reveal that adora not dating bow (which we all already knew but anyways) which i think is a step forward. i had a few ideas on how i wanted that to play out, but i settled on the most practical one because i dont want to write myself into a corner

plus im so bad at html someone teach me how to use technology plz

anyways tell me what you'd like to see in future chapters in the comments or on twitter !! i'd love to see ur thoughts, suggestions, etc <3

i will proofread this later but i am so tired so goodbye and have a great day!!

Chapter 6: chuckles & chortles

Summary:

in which the author tried to write a cute filler chapter but ended up writing angst instead.

Notes:

guys... i just wanted to write a chapter with catra simping for adora in gym clothes... i promise i have no idea how it turned into this

 

CONTENT WARNING

 

!! homophobia and brief description of conversion therapy !!

tws are included within the chapter and content is skippable if necessary

It’s 5:20 in the morning.

I glanced at the schedule before I left the house. They’re on the clock right now.

Maybe this was a bad idea. It’s way too early in the morning. Plus, it’s November, so it’s chilly outside. Definitely not the right temperature to be wearing a tank top and gym shorts.

It’s not the first time I’ve gone out for a morning run in autumn. It’s something I do pretty much every year. Even back in Eternia, where it was freezing all year round. Usually, I just work off the cold by warming up.

Etheria’s warmer than Eternia (in more ways than one). What if my body’s no longer accustomed to cold weather? What if I get sick?

(Don’t be stupid, Adora. You do this every year and you’ve always been fine.)

I’m already sweaty. As I sprint, I clutch the thermos as tight as I can so that it doesn’t slip out of my damp hands. My clothes are clinging to my skin and I probably reek. This is a bad idea, isn’t it?

I look up at the bright neon green Horde logo on the familiar sign above the small store. Too late to turn back now. I take a few seconds to catch my breath before walking in.

They’re all bundled up in multiple jackets on top of one another. The sight is kind of adorable, honestly. She looks tired, too. Like, really tired. They don't smile when they see me, the way they usually do. The first time we met, she looked bored and lifeless, but this isn’t like that either.

She’s squinting in suspicion, as if I’m some sort of threat to her. I frown.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

“Are you real?”

“What?”

“Are you actually here? Or am I finally losing it? Am I hallucinating?”

“Uh.” I pat myself up and down. “Pretty sure I’m real.”

Her eyes narrow further (if that’s even possible). She gets out from behind the counter. I’m (once again) flabbergasted to see that she actually has legs. She’s also a few inches shorter than me. I make a mental note to tease her about it later.

She reaches out for my arm and pinches me.

“Ow!” I exclaim. “What was that for?”

“I was just making sure you were real.”

“You’re supposed to pinch yourself, not me!” I protest.

They look skeptical. “That sounds like a trap.”

I smile at her. “I’m actually here. I promise.”

“Okay, good.” She goes back behind the counter. “Thought I was dreaming. My manager would kill me if she caught me sleeping on the job.”

I smirk. “Why, do you dream about me a lot?”

“What? No. Whatever. Don’t flatter yourself.” She looks me up and down, her face scarlet. Dry, cold air causes redness in cheeks. That’s probably why. “What are you doing here and how are you not freezing?”

I shrug. “I was on my morning run. I’m all warmed up.”

“You sure?”

“I do this all the time. I’m sure.” I hold out the thermos for her. “This is for you, by the way.”

“What is this?” She doesn’t take the bottle from my hand. “Are you trying to poison me?”

“Why would I poison you?”

“I don’t know. If you want your money back, all you have to do is ask.”

“What money?”

“The money you lost in the M&Ms bet, Adora. Jesus, keep up.”

“Wh-” I almost laugh. “You think I would kill you for $5?”

Her face scrunches up, the way it does when they’re thinking about something. “I mean, it’d be a pretty bitchy thing to do, but yeah. I can see it happening.”

They never told me that they were this paranoid when they were tired. It’s like talking to Glimmer 2.0. “You’re ridiculous. I have no intention of murdering you.”

“After you kill me, are you gonna look through my stuff and take my driver’s license?”

“Why would I want your driver’s license?”

“Because it has my name on it. Duh.”

“I’m-”

“Joke’s on you, though!” She smiles smugly. “I don’t have a driver’s license. Because I can’t drive. Suck on that, Goldilocks.”

“Your name won’t be of much use to me if you’re dead, will it?”

“You can write it on my gravestone.”

“Look, I promise I’m not poisoning you. Just please take it. My arm is getting tired.”

Hesitantly, they take the thermos from me. “Is there booze in here?”

“Coffee,” I correct her. “I remember you said you get tired during the night shift and that you have to drink soda in order to stay up, even though you hate soda. And I know you get cold, even when the heat is on.”

“Yeah, well, not all of us are Elsa.” She takes the lid off and whiffs the contents. “I didn’t think any coffee shops were open right now.”

“It’s home brewed.” Her head snaps up to meet my gaze. “I’m not a big coffee drinker, but Glimmer is, so I’ve gotten pretty good at making it myself. That’s what I’ve been told, anyway.”

“You made this for me?” Their voice is soft. Dare I say, timid.

I nod. “Don’t want you falling asleep on the job, right?”

They don’t say anything for a moment. She stares at the coffee inside the thermos. Their gaze doesn’t leave the liquid when she says, “Get over here.”

“Hm?”

She gestures to the space next to her as an invitation. “Come here.”

I do as she says and watch her sink down onto the floor, their back against the counter I’m used to seeing them lean over.

“Well?” She looks up at me expectantly and pats the floor. “Are you just gonna keep standing there?”

I sit down, my legs crossed. I watch as she takes a sip from the thermos.

“If this is poison,” she tells me, “I’ll die happy.”

I smile. “Good, then?”

“Really good.” She looks at me. “Thank you, Adora. You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“I know,” I tell her. “I wanted to.”

She pauses. Her face scrunches up again. They’re thinking of what to say next. “Why are you even awake?” she asks.

“I told you. Morning run.”

Their beautiful blue and gold eyes bore into me, as if they’re waiting for me to finish my sentence.

“And I couldn’t sleep much. Wanted to clear my head,” I admit. “I’ve had stuff on my mind lately.”

She takes another sip. “The ‘bad news’ you got the other day?”

I nod, slightly surprised that they remembered. “Yeah.” I look down at my running shoes.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“My parents are coming to Etheria.”

She doesn’t say anything. Just patiently waits for me to continue.

“My brother’s getting married in February,” I say. “His fiancé’s family invited them over for Thanksgiving. They’re staying for Christmas. And they’ll be back for the wedding. I knew they’d be in town eventually, but I didn’t think it’d be so soon.”

“I’m guessing your parents…?” They trail off, not wanting to make assumptions.

“Suck. They suck,” I confirm.

“I know a thing or two about sucky parents. I don’t know what I would do if I had to see mine again.” She tilts her head. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’m not gonna be spending Thanksgiving or Christmas with them. Us being in the same room is just gonna cause chaos, and no one wants that. I can’t opt out of the wedding, though. I don’t wanna see them, but it’s my brother’s wedding. It’s his big day. He’s always been there for me. I need to be there for him.”

“What are you gonna do?” they repeat themself.

I tear my gaze away from my sneakers to meet her eyes. “I don’t know.” The cold is catching up to me. The space heater in the corner of the room isn’t nearly enough to keep me from shivering.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

I scoff. They’re not wrong, but still. “Gee, thanks.”

“I didn’t mean the wedding thing, dummy,” she sighs and puts the bottle on the floor, taking one of her jackets off and draping it over me. “Can’t believe you didn’t layer up or anything.”

“N-no, it’s fine. Jogging helps me warm up.”

She rolls her eyes. “Can you stop with the tough jock act? I can see you shivering. It’s not gonna hurt you to accept a little help.”

“Might hurt my ego a little bit.” I crack a smile.

“Yeah, well, your ego is the least of my worries right now.”

Her jacket is warm and just about big enough to fit me. I put it on. It smells like her. Lemony.

“Thank you.”

She picks up the coffee again and takes another sip. “It’s whatever.”

I’m not sure what to say next. Fortunately for me, I don’t have to.

“Your parents…” they say. “They’re the reason you left Eternia, aren’t they?”

I guess we’re having this conversation now.

I turn my attention back to my shoes. “Etheria was always a safe space for me. And now, they’re coming here. They were the reason I didn’t feel safe in Eternia. And now, I’m finally happy and they’re just waltzing in? They don’t get to do that. Not anymore. They don’t get to ruin it now. I just want to live my life away from them.” Tears prick the corners of my eyes. Fuck, why am I so emotional?

“You deserve that,” she says. “To live your life away from them.”

“I’m so angry.” I continue. “At everything and everyone. Even though I know that that’s unfair. I can’t blame Teela’s parents for not knowing. Teela and Adam didn’t choose to invite them, but I wouldn’t blame Teela for wanting to meet her future in-laws. Adam says he doesn’t want to see them, but it’s not like I can blame him for still having a relationship with them. At the end of the day, they’re his parents, too. He’s allowed to still love them, even if they aren’t the best people.”

One of her hands creeps closer to mine. The tips of fingers brush against my palm, as if to test the waters. As if to ask for permission.

I intertwine our fingers. Our hands fit together so well.

(They’re trying to comfort you, Adora. Stop being such a hopeless lesbian.)

She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re allowed to be upset. Hell, I would be fucking livid. And trust me, no one lashes out harder than I do. This is a little hypocritical of me to say, but to me, it seems like the only person that deserves your anger is them.”

I can feel it happening again. The room’s shrinking. I want to scream. Instead, I suck in a breath. “You’re right and I know that. I’ve been mad at them for so long. Before I moved here, my life was just anger and fear. I don’t wanna go back to that. Ever.” My voice is wobbling. I’m only seconds away from tears. “Part of me can’t help but think that once they’re here, I’m just gonna shrink back into a 14 year old girl and everything’s gonna go back to how it was.”

Everything feels so overwhelming. The white noise fills my ears. My own breathing feels too loud for comfort.

She gives my hand another squeeze. “That’s not gonna happen, though. You’re not 14 years old anymore. You’re an adult and they can’t control you. You’re living your life now, and you’re living it for yourself. No one else. You’re happy. They can’t take that away from you. You can’t let them.”

I can hardly hear her over the roaring in my ears.

It’s all coming back to me.

[beginning of triggering content]

I remember everything better than I would like to.

I remember their initial coldness that first week. It was the worst silent treatment I’d ever gotten. Adam was the only one in the house who would speak to me. Not that I was allowed outside of the house. They couldn’t have me going out and corrupting their image.

I remember telling myself that I was lucky. I remember hearing about Mr and Mrs Carthwright from church, who kicked their son out of the house after he told them he was gay. My parents hadn’t kicked me out. That had to mean something, right?

I remember thinking that they loved me.

I remember the hope blossoming in me as my mother walked into my room for the first time in far too long with a bright smile on her face. I remember my heart sinking when I realized why.

Everything will be okay, darling, I remember her saying. I didn’t understand what she meant at first.

We spoke with an old friend of your father’s, Pastor Prime. He’s somewhat of a doctor. He’s going to help you. I was still confused. I wasn’t sick. Why did I need a doctor?

We’ll get you fixed up and then, this whole thing will be over. And someday, you’ll have a nice husband and we’ll all laugh about this someday, alright?

I remember telling her that I don’t need fixing. That I would never have a husband. That she was going to have to learn how to live with that. I remember the kind façade melting away as she yelled at me and called me words that were burnt into the back of my mind.

I remember tears running down my cheeks and my cries going hoarse as we screamed back and forth. I remember the shouting dying down as I begged and pleaded with what was left of my voice.

I remember realizing that they didn’t love me. Not at all. They loved the person they wanted me to be.

I wasn’t the person they wanted me to be. I couldn’t be. They tried their hardest to mold me into her, but it never worked.

I remember Adam coming home from soccer practice. I remember him sneaking into my room and asking me what happened. I overheard Mom and Dad saying something about some camp in Fright City... What’s going on, ’Dor?

I hear the cashier calling my name, but it sounds muffled. Like I’m underwater. I try to swim up to the surface, but their voice tunes out quickly, disintegrating any motivation to reach shore. I just keep sinking deeper and deeper into the water. I’m drowning.

I remember camp. I remember everything about it. Electric shocks running up my arm. Redundant lectures about how sinners would be sent to hell. Threats of violence whenever someone disobeyed. On a bad day, it was more than just threats.

Your parents have given me their written permission to do whatever it takes to cure you, Pastor Prime had said. Whatever it takes.

I remember-

“Adora!”

Someone pulls me out of the water.

[end of triggering content]

“Adora.” They sound worried. Scared, even. “Adora, please look at me.”

I look up to see her. My vision is blurry and my cheeks feel wet. I must’ve been crying. I need to stop crying so often.

“Sync your breathing with mine, okay? In and out.” She demonstrates by deeply inhaling and exhaling. I follow her lead until my breaths have slowed down to their usual frequency.

“Good, that’s great. Is it okay if I… Can I hug you?”

I try to form words but all that comes out is a weak sob. I nod.

She wraps me in her arms. She’s warm. I weep into their outermost jacket for a minute or two. Maybe more than that. I’m not sure.

“I’m sorry,” I finally manage to say.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I ran in here at an obscene hour, trauma dumped my entire life story on you, and now I’m sobbing into your shoulder,” I say between whimpers. “Again.”

“So what? I asked what was bothering you. If anyone should apologize, it should be me. And if you ever need a shoulder to cry on… I’m happy to volunteer, okay?”

I hiccup softly as my tears slow down. “Really?”

Her hand pats my back. “Really.”

“Thank you, Lemony.”

They click their tongue. “I don’t love the nickname, but I suppose it’ll suffice for now.”

I let out a noise that’s a mix between a giggle and a hiccup, though it’s muffled by the fabric of her jacket. “You give really good hugs.”

She chortles. “Do I?”

“Mhm. You’re comfy.” My arms snake around their waist. “Is it okay if we just stay like this for a bit?”

“Yeah. We can stay.”

The silence is deafening. “Can you talk about something?” I ask her.

“Hm?”

“Talk. Please. About anything. I don’t care what. I just can’t deal with the quiet right now.” I’m no longer crying. I just feel sort of numb. “And I like hearing your voice,” I add softly.

“Okay.” I feel their hand wander into my hair. “Jupiter has 79 known moons.”

“Which one is your favorite?”

“My favorite moon?” She hums. “Can’t say I’ve given it much thought. I like Callisto, though.”

“Pretty name,” I mumble. “Why do you like it?”

“I dunno. It’s sparkly. Pretty. Kinda rainbow colored.”

I snicker without thinking. “Gay.”

She laughs. It’s not suppressed. It’s not a chuckle or a chortle. It’s a full laugh. Not a big one, but a laugh. It’s high pitched and squeaky. I love it. “Yeah, Adora. It’s pretty gay.”

(What about you?)

(Are you gay?)

I put those thoughts aside. They’re too overwhelming and all they’re going to do is drive me insane. “Tell me more.”

“Callisto’s the third largest moon in the solar system. It’s actually almost as big as Mercury. It’s big enough to be considered a planet, but it’s not because it orbits Jupiter.”

“Lame.”

“Yeah.” Their hand trails down to meet mine. “It’s brighter than the moon we have here. Super pretty. Did I mention that already?”

“You did.” I pull away slightly, not quite detangling our bodies, so that I can look at her face. “Didn’t peg you for an astronomy nerd.” Our faces are only inches apart.

“Me?” There’s humor in her voice. “I’m not a nerd.” I try my hardest to not think about how easy it would be to kiss her right now.

“Uh-huh. Sure you’re not.” I smile. “Guess I should’ve known. Since you’re into astrology and all that.”

Humor is replaced with confusion when they ask, “Astrology? Me? What gave you that idea?”

“Oh, I just assumed because you asked for my zodiac sign.”

Her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. “Right. Scorpia’s into that stuff, not me. She told me to ask you.”

I smirk. “You talk about me at home?”

Her voice doesn’t falter. “I need to vent, don’t I?”

“Vent about what, exactly?”

“Well, for starters, there’s this super annoying customer who comes in everyday and never buys anything.”

I purse my lips. “Sounds like a pain in the ass.”

“Oh, she is,” they smile. “She always does this little poof thing with her hair. The same hairstyle every single day.”

“Ugh.” I try to bite back a grin. “I hate her already.”

“Tell me about it.” She rolls her eyes sarcastically. “And she has this stupid dopey smile.”

“Ew, I hate smiling.”

“Also, just the absolute worst sleep schedule. She goes running at 5 AM. In November. Who does that?”

“People who want an energetic start to their day?”

“Sounds fake.”

I giggle. “What else do you hate about her?”

“Jeez, Princess, do you have a degrading kink or something?”

(Oh my god?)

(Kill me.)

(Actually kill me.)

I feel myself go red as I break eye contact with her. “Shut up.”

They let out another squeaky laugh. “Okay, well… I hate how good she is at making coffee.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. And I hate how… muscly her arms are. Like, we get it, you work out. Big deal.”

I smugly remove one of my arms from their waist and flex my bicep. “Oh yeah?”

“As I was saying,” they glare at me. “She’s such a dumb jock. And a showoff, too.”

“Sounds awful,” I say with fake pity.

“Plus this obnoxious hero complex.”

“Maybe she’s an ENFJ.”

“And she keeps asking me what my name is, which is annoying.”

“How dare she.”

“So weird.”

A laugh escapes my mouth. Then another. I burst into a fit of giggles. It doesn’t take long for them to join me. I’m not quite sure what’s so funny, but we both laugh uncontrollably for a moment and fail to catch our breath.

“Just by the way,” I say after we’ve calmed down, “people love the hair poof.”

“I do too, Adora.” Her eyes are almost as warm as her embrace. “I do too.”

Notes:

this was fun

if anyone wants to be mutuals on twitter, feel free hmu on there! lmk what you'd like to see in the next chapter and i will see u all hopefully soon!!

i also just made a tumblr !! if im being honest i really do not know how to use tumblr but i'll figure it out probably

that makes me sound so old oh my god
im literally in 8th grade i just am not good at Doing things in general

anyways i have like 3 pieces of homework due tonight so i should really get to that

my hindi teacher really couldnt give us until sunday

i hate it here truly

dont stay in school, kids. its a trap

ok see ya

Chapter 7: competence & compensation

Summary:

in which adora yells at siri, catra is the dumbest bitch alive, and adam is just kind of there.

Notes:

sorry this took so long! i have this thing called 'school' i dont know if you guys have heard of it

but yeah ive got prep exams coming up and if i want to make it to high school i have to pass 8th grade so

yk on second thought maybe i dont wanna go to high school. i mean if teen movies have taught me anything...

but my mother would quite literally disown me if i had to repeat a grade so i guess im stuck being a passing student sigh

this chapter is super rushed, which is sad considering how short it is, but i really wanted to post it today because
1) i usually dont take more than a week to update
2) today marks 1 month since i posted chapter 1 which is pretty fucking cool

anyways sorry for the long author's note, enjoy !

edit: something went wrong with the html bc i forgot to proofread this last night but i will fix it after school. probably

edit: ok 7 hours later i think i fixed it but i'll have to go over it again later if i get time😭

I’ve been replaying the events of that early morning for a while now. I had barely any time to process it all when it was happening.

So, quick recap.

Seeing Adora in gym shorts? Was not prepared for that. It’s November for fuck’s sake. Either she grew up in an igloo or she’s just really stupid.

It doesn’t help that her legs are stupidly long and her arms are ridiculously muscular or whatever.

The coffee. She made me coffee. What am I supposed to make of that?

Was she just being nice?

That was a friend thing, right?

Brewing coffee takes, what, 10 minutes? She just took 10 minutes out of her morning to make coffee for a friend. That’s normal. It’s not like she proposed or anything.

She also made another gay joke. I’m pretty sure. It also didn’t escape my notice that her fingernails are really short.

I internally shake my head. It’s a dumb, dated stereotype. Besides, speculating her sexuality seems selfish right now. There are heavier parts of the encounter to focus on.

All that stuff with her parents.

She never struck me as the type of person with familial issues. I figured something was up when she told me that she stopped living with her parents when she was 15, but I can’t say I wasn’t surprised.

If I were to make assumptions about Adora at first glance, I would say she came from the perfect white suburban sitcom family. With a goofy dad, and a hard working mom. A brother and/or a sister to engage in comedically over-the-top sibling dynamics and hijinks. Maybe even a dog.

She seems so… perfect. She seems like someone who’s had a perfect life. A perfect childhood.

She seems happy.

It's amazing, really. When life hands you so much bullshit and you still manage to just be happy. It takes a lot of courage. And a lot of oblivion.

I wonder how long it had been since she’d opened up about her parents before that morning.

It’s not like it was the first time I’d seen her cry. Hell, I saw her cry the first time we met. But this time was different. Obviously. It was more... vulnerable? Personal?

It was painful, honestly. Watching a cheerful person break down. I feel guilt boiling inside me for ever thinking that her life could’ve been perfect.

“Hey! Lemony!”

Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

She stumbles over to the cash register with that ridiculous smirk on her face. “How’s it going?” She’s swaying slightly and there’s something off about her usual crooked smile. It’s almost hazy. She’s been drinking.

“’Dor!” Someone rushes in behind her. “I told you not to run!” The stranger is tall and buff. Blonde hair, light eyes. Sharp jawline. Kind of like a masculine Adora.

She gives the newcomer an annoyed look. “And I told you to wait in the car.” She points and wags her finger at them. “But somebody doesn’t listen,” she says in a sing-song voice.

“I wasn’t about to let you bolt out into the street alone, asshole.”

She ignores them and turns her attention back to me. She trips over her words slightly but manages to say, “Adam bought me alcohol to contemplate for his own guilt.”

Adam. Adora’s brother. That explains the resemblance.

“Using big words, are we?” He rolls his eyes. “I think the term you’re looking for is ‘compensate.’ Which is not what I’m doing, by the way. I’m not compensating, I just wanted to make it up to you.” He looks confused when she pulls her phone out of her pocket. “What are you doing?”

“Siri,” she practically yells into the phone microphone, “what does ‘concentrate’ mean?”

“Compensate,” he corrects her. “Also, you don’t have Siri anymore. You use an Android.”

She looks at him in disgust. “What the fuck is an Android?”

He plucks her phone out of her hand, ignoring her protests. “Okay, you’re not sober enough to be allowed to use this. God knows you’ll text an ex or something.”

“Jokes on you, I’m on good terms with all my exes.” She smirks, looking weirdly flirty (in a dorky, but somehow incredibly hot way). “I’m an extremely competent person.”

Competence. Sexy.

“You’re ridiculous,” he says.

“Don’t mind him,” she tells me. “He’s had a few drinks.”

“I had water.”

“Water is a drink,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She grins at me. “Adam got hit on by a dude.”

I finally manage to get a word in. “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh. He enjoyed it, too.” She snickers. “It’s funny because he’s straight,” she says as if explaining an inside joke.

“That’s not true!” he protests before his face flushes and he corrects his words. “I-I mean the part about me enjoying it. I am straight. I have a fiancé. A woman fiancé. My fiancé is a female woman.” He pauses before following up with, “Not to say that people who like women can’t also like men. Bisexuality is a thing. But I’m not. Bisexual, that is. Or pansexual. Or omni. I’m straight.” I guess nervous ranting runs in the family.

“Adam, stop talking.” She rubs her temples. “You’re making the room spin.”

“Pretty sure that’s the vodka’s fault, not mine,” he counters. “Anyway, I didn’t enjoy it.”

“Oh, please,” she drawls. “You loved the attention.”

“I- that’s not-”

“Would you relax?” Her words slur together. “There’s no shame in liking it when people flirt with you. Even if you aren’t attracted to them. It feels nice, being flattered.”

It feels like someone stuck a needle in my stomach. A tiny one, not big or lethal enough to do major damage, but it still sends shooting pain up my spine.

(Is that what this is to you?)

(Are you ever really flirting with me, or do you just enjoy the attention I so desperately want to give you?)

(Are you just leading me on?)

(Or am I getting my hopes up without you even trying to lead me?)

I internally shake my head.

(Shut up.)

(You’re doing it again.)

(You’re jumping to conclusions.)

(And you’re getting angry.)

(You’re getting angry about something that probably isn’t even true.)

(You’re in your own head.)

I turn my attention back to Adam and Adora.

He looks puzzled. “But you hate when straight guys flirt with you.”

“Yeah, because straight guys are gross. The guy hitting on you was not straight.”

(Wait.)

(Are you..?)

(No, wait.)

(I’m doing it again.)

(I’m jumping to conclusions. Again.)

(She hates being hit on by straight guys, but that doesn’t mean she likes girls. Right?)

(Maybe she just has a thing for queer guys?)

(It’s borderline fetishism, but there’s plenty of weirdos out there, right?)

(Maybe she’s one of those straight girls who just has so many gay friends that she feels comfortable making gay jokes.)

(Also, straight women are allowed to hate straight men.)

(Everyone knows that straight women and queer men are ultimately superior to straight men.)

(Also, the aro-ace spectrum is a thing. There’s so many possibilities. I can’t just stick with the one that feels most convenient to me.)

“It just caught me off guard! I wasn’t expecting it."

She rolls her eyes. “It’s a gay bar, Adam. You should be expecting to see gay people. I swear, it’s like you’ve never met a homosexual.”

(Wait, what?)

He snorts. “You’re the most homosexual person there is.”

(Wait, what? )

(Wait.)

(Hold on.)

(...)

(What?)

(Wait.)

(Okay.)

(So.)

(So this means…?)

(Wait.)

My mind rushes, grasping at little memories that I thought were straws, piecing them together.

That day we were talking about horror movies. So… Jennifer’s Body, huh?

When we were talking about Mermista and Sea Hawk. We ended it on good terms, though. He was super understanding about everything.

When I tried to ask her about her relationship status. Bow and I are just friends, I promise you.

When I gave her Skittles. Gay M&Ms?

When she asked about my shampoo. It smelled, uh, fruity.

When I told her about Callisto. She had snickered, Gay.

I had laughed with her. Yeah, Adora. It’s pretty gay.

When she was talking about her parents. Etheria was always a safe space for me.

I remember what Scorpia told me before we moved. Etheria’s supposed to be super LGBTQ+ friendly. I hear it’s just a large gayborhood.

Less than a minute ago she practically said she doesn’t like guys.

(Oh my god.)

(Oh my god.)

(Am I…?)

(Am I… stupid?)

(Oh my god, I’m stupid.)

(I’m the dumbest bitch alive.)

(What the HELL.)

“Are you okay?” I hear Adam’s voice.

I snap out of my daze. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I see Adora poking around a shelf of crackers. “Are you guys looking for something? Need anything?”

“Huh?” She looks up, her eyes glossy. “Oh. No. Just wanted to see you.”

Just wanted to see me. The room is spinning, like Adora said it was a few moments ago.

Adam’s brow furrows in confusion before the corner of his mouth lifts in amusement. “Wait, is this-?”

“Shut up, Adam.”

“This is them, isn’t it?”

“Shut up,” she practically growls.

He smiles at me. “’Dor’s told me a lot about you.”

I smirk at her and mimic her words from our previous encounter. “You talk about me at home?”

She mumbles something unintelligible and starts browsing the confectionery, but judging by the look on her brother’s face, the answer is yes.

I grin. “All good things I hope?”

He leans over, like he’s hoping she won’t hear. “She told me about your ferret.”

“Hamster!” Adora corrects him. “It was a hamster.”

“Same thing. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

I nod solemnly. “Anything else?”

“Adam!” Adora interrupts. “Do you have a couple of bucks to spare?”

He frowns. “Uh, yeah. I think so. Why?”

She plucks a bag off a shelf and rips it open. “Say, ‘Ah.’”

“What?” A piece of yellow candy flies through the air and hits his forehead. “Ow! Fuck you.”

She looks unbothered. “You were supposed to catch it in your mouth.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“I told you to say ‘Ah.’ Dumbass.” She looks at me with excited eyes. “D’you wanna try?”

(How can I say no when you’re looking at me like that?)

She skips to the counter with glee. “Say ‘Ah,’” she says in her melodic sing-song voice.

I open my mouth and brace myself to get hit in the eye or something. Instead, the candy soars through the air and knocks down a bottle of shampoo on the shelf behind me. I’ll put it back later. Probably.

(Probably not.)

Now, I know that Adora is under the influence at the moment and that I shouldn’t expect her to have perfect aim, but I saw her throw it at Adam. Even though it didn’t actually land in his mouth, it was a pretty decent shot. Better than whatever that was.

“You didn’t even try!” I berate her.

“I did too!”

“No, you didn’t.”

“No I didn’t.” Her lips form a pout. Her lips. All I want to do is lean over and kiss them.

(Woah, there.)

(Slow your roll, buddy.)

(She’s drunk.)

(People can’t consent when they’re intoxicated.)

(Also, her brother is literally right there.)

(Have some class.)

“It’s hard candy!” she whines, still doing that cute pout thing. “I didn’t wanna risk hurting you.”

(God bless you, angel.)

Adam scoffs. “Why does she get special treatment?”

The puppy eyes disappear as she shoots him a look. “Because you’re annoying.”

“You’re annoying-er.”

“You’re the annoying-est.”

“You dress like a 12 year old boy.”

“You are a 12 year old boy.”

Watching them go back and forth makes me a little wistful. I’d always wished I had a sibling. Or anyone, really.

My eye catches the label on the yellow bag in her hand. “Lemon Drops?” I interrupt their quarrel. “Are you shitting me?”

“Huh? Oh.” Adora looks at the candy in her hands as if just remembering that it’s there. “Yeah. Want one? Say ‘Ah’!”

I roll my eyes and do as she says, but instead of throwing it like I expected her to, she stumbles over to the opposing side of the counter so she’s standing right next to me and delicately places it in my mouth.

Her hand lingers there for a moment. And when I say ‘there’ I mean literal millimeters away from my lips. “You have really sharp teeth,” she notices. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Uh…” is my intelligent response.

She has that stupid fucking smirk on her face again. She brings her hand down to her side. “It’s kinda hot, actually.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Okay,” Adam says (not that either of us are bothered enough to pay a glance in his direction). “I’m starting to realize why you asked me to wait in the car, so. I’m gonna go do that now. Text me when you’re ready to leave.” I see him place her phone and cash for the candy near the register from the corner of my eye. “Be responsible. Don’t do anything stupid. Don't call any of your exes.” He pauses. “Not that you'll need to.”

We don’t watch him leave. We’re too busy staring at each other. She looks smug, like a dumb jock asking out a cheerleader. I’m pretty sure I look like a gaping fish. The lemon drop is still resting on my tongue.

I close my mouth and try to focus on the taste. It’s sour at first. Duh. But when the sourness fades away, it’s pure sugar.

Notes:

hello hello its me again

someone asked me what adora's ringtones for glimmer, adam and eventually catra would be, which i thought was a really interesting question but i have no idea so let me know in the comments!

im not great at replying to comments because im terrible at accepting compliments, but i really love hearing from you all. dont be shy to dm me or start a conversation ontwitter !!

(making conversation is just so much easier on twitter/in dms😭 but i genuinely do love talking to u all)

still dont know how to use tumblr but i am determined to figure it out

also i meant to say this in the notes of the last couple of chapters but i have a really bad memory so: its so fucking cool to see writers of some of my favorite fics leaving kudos and commenting on here :)) really look up to you guys and the fact that youre reading my work is kind of unreal

anyways!! i will see u all next time. my prep exams start on friday so i dont know when that will be, but hopefully not too long

heres to passing middle school

Chapter 8: minutes & maybes

Summary:

in which adora cant do math, catra is NOT meryl streep, and razz thinks all lesbians look the same.

Notes:

"thanksgiving was a week ago" ok and? do you want the chapter or not?

that sounded so aggressive lmao im so sorry😭i love u all i am just very stressed and bad at time management

my prep exams start in 2 days what am i doing with my life.

i am literally going to fail what is wrong with me i have 0 priorities and so much anxiety UGH

anyways

fuck everything and enjoy the chapter wooohooo

It’s Thanksgiving.

Bow and Glimmer are out of town. Adam is with Teela and her family.

(My parents are there, too. But I’d rather not think about that.)

Razz and Mara are working. Razz isn’t American and Mara’s vegetarian, so neither of them see Thanksgiving as a big deal, much less an excuse to take a day off.

I’m sitting behind the counter with her again. We’re eating lemon drops and laughing about something or the other. I can’t remember what was so damn funny. All I remember is that she makes me want to smile. The bodega’s completely empty except for the two of us. Which is good. That’s the way I prefer it.

“You know something,” I say as they pop the candy into their mouth. “I think the name Lemony suits you.”

They make a face. Maybe at my statement, maybe at the sour taste in their mouth. It’s unclear. “And why is that?”

“You’ve got a very Lemony Snicket vibe to you. All mysterious.”

“Plus, you don’t know my real name,” she quips.

“Maybe I should start calling you Daniel Handler.”

“Please don’t.”

I giggle softly. There’s a moment of comfortable silence between us.

I don’t realize that I’m humming until they ask me, “Is that a fucking Barney song?”

I give her a toothy smile. “If all the raindrops were lemon drops and gumdrops,” I sing, “oh, what a rain it would be.”

She shakes her head bemusedly. “You’re a child.”

I reach into the yellow bag and retrieve a single lemon drop, holding it between my index finger and thumb. I examine it as if it’s some kind of fascinating clue in an unsolved mystery. “Has anyone ever told you that you have the personality of a lemon drop?”

“I can’t say they have, but I’m not sure I want you to elaborate.”

“Well, you’re kind of sour at first-”

“I am not.”

“Just a little bit. But once the thin layer of sour sanding is gone, you’re as sweet as they come.”

“Okay, that’s worse. You managed to make it worse.”

“Like, just pure sugar.”

“Stop it.”

“So sweet.”

“I hate this.”

“Tooth rotting.”

“Please shut up.”

“Aww, you even said please,” I coo and poke their side. “Even when you’re trying to be mean, you’re just the sweetest, aren’t you?”

“You’re awful and your hair makes you look like you were in a bad reality show in the early 2000’s.”

“You love it.”

“Whatever you say, Bumpit.”

“You’re also very tough to crack,” I continue. “You’re not supposed to bite into hard candy. You just kinda have to put it in your mouth and… suck on it.” I regret my choice of wording as I watch her left eyebrow hike up her forehead. “I’m not sure where I was going with this analogy.”

“Uh-huh.” I think I see the ghost of a smirk grace her lips. She takes the lemon drop from my hand and places it on her tongue. I’d rather not describe the way my stomach flips

My phone buzzes

Aunt Mara

Are you almost ready?
Your grandma wants to know when you’ll be here
I told her that you’re probably just getting dressed or on your way but you know how she is

I’ll be there in a few
Tell Razz not to worry
I was just catching up with a friend

“I should get going. Gramma and Mara are waiting,” I explain.

She nods. “See you later, then?”

“Aren’t you closing up soon? Not like you’re gonna have a lot of people coming in.” It’s been a month since the Salineas Smoothies incident. People are getting over the scare, but it’s still very unlikely that people would be rushing to buy toothbrushes on Thanksgiving. Black Friday, maybe. But Thanksgiving?

“Technically, I can clock out whenever I want. We usually close up for the holidays. But I get paid for extra hours so,” she shrugs, “why not?”

“You don’t have plans?”

I internally wince. She mentioned that her roommates would be out of town. They’ve only lived in Etheria for a few months, so they might not have a lot of extremely close friends here other than Scorpia and Entrapta. I remember what they said about their parents. I don’t know what I would do if I had to see mine again. Spending the holidays alone is probably a sensitive topic.

The question doesn’t seem to bother her, though. “Nah. Scorp and Trap invited me to join them but I don’t wanna intrude on someone else’s family dinner. Feels weird.”

I know how she feels. It’s exactly how I felt when Glimmer and Bow invited me with them. “You should come with me,” I say in spite of myself.

They don’t look impressed. “What did I just say?”

Maybe this was a bad idea. But I dug my grave, time to die in it. I’m pretty sure that’s how the saying goes.

“It’s not like we’re having a big family dinner or anything. I’m just visiting them at work. It’s a public place. You wouldn’t be intruding. Plus,” I add, “free food.”

She looks at me with narrow eyes before giving in with a sigh. “I have nothing better to do.”

I mentally sigh in relief. “Great! Do you need to get anything, or are we good to go?”

“Nah, I think we’re good. I’m only doing this for the free food, by the way. So it better be good.” She adjusts the red scarf around her neck and stands up, shoving the candy in her backpack.

I’m not about to carry a purse, they had told me. I’m not Meryl Streep.

You’re not in 5th grade, either, I had teased.

“Trust me, the food will be satisfactory.”

She slings one of the straps over her shoulders. “You should text them. Ask if they’re okay with me coming.”

“They will be,” I try to assure her.

“Okay, but… let them know. I don’t wanna catch them with their pants down.”

I frown, not sure if I heard them correctly. “I don’t know how close you think I am with my family, but I can assure you that everyone is going to be fully dressed.” She laughs at me. “What?”

She calms herself and gives me a fond smile. “It’s a saying, dummy. I just don’t wanna catch them off guard.”

I give in and shoot a quick text to Mara letting her know that I’m bringing a friend. Without waiting for a response, I walk out of the store, my fingers tangled with theirs.

I don’t know what took over me. Or where the sudden determination to bring her along with me came from.

Maybe I’m just lonely? Craving the company of someone my own age?

Maybe I just really, really like this girl.

Eh. I guess we’ll never know.

It feels a little surreal, stepping out of the store, the November air hitting our faces. It’s the first time I’ve seen her outside the bodega. Her cheeks flush in the cold. Their shoulders rise, burying the bottom half of their face in their scarf. Seeing her now, away from the harsh white LED lighting in the store, is something I wasn’t prepared for. Her skin is a warm brown color, the tip of her nose tinted red. The freckles splattered across their face. She’s so pretty.

“Say hello to Swift Wind,” I say, introducing her to my car. She teases me for the name as she gets in, like I thought she would. I expected no less of her.

(Oh my god, she’s in my car.)

(They’re sitting shotgun in my car.)

(Why does this feel like such a huge deal?)

They say something, but I fail to hear them. “Sorry, what did you say? I zoned out.”

She laughs again. Have I mentioned how much I love their laugh? Because I do. I really love her laugh. “I was saying, I hope you don’t fit the ‘gays can’t drive’ stereotype.”

“Oh,” I chuckle awkwardly. “No, I’m a pretty decent driver. And I’m okay at cooking. I can’t do math to save my life, though, so I guess I do fit the ‘gays pick two’ theory.” I’m not sure what else to say, so I ask her, “What about you?”

They raise an eyebrow. “Are you asking about my cooking and math skills, or are you asking if I’m gay?”

(Shit.)

(She’s not gay.)

(I just asked a very straight girl a very gay question.)

“Uhh…”

Their eyebrow is lowered and she shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s okay. I am. Gay, I mean.”

(Oh.)

(So.)

(Okay.)

“Oh…” I think of what to say. “That’s, uh… cool. Being gay is cool.”

She lets out a soft, squeaky laugh. “Pretty cool, yeah. Thought you knew, honestly. I don’t try to hide it.”

My heart does a little happy dance. She’s gay. Way out of my league? Maybe. But still gay.

Of course, them being gay brings up the humiliating fear that when I inevitably get rejected, it won’t be because they don’t like girls; it’ll be because they don’t like me. Or she’s already in a relationship.

But I don’t have to think about that right now. Because in my hopeful imagination, I maybe have a very tiny chance with her. I’d like to entertain the thought before facing the truth.

“I-It just never crossed my mind,” I lie. Focusing on the road is becoming very difficult.

“I guess it would be hypocritical of me to make fun of you for not picking up on hints. I didn’t realize you were gay until your brother mentioned it.”

I don’t remember that. “Huh?”

“You were drunk. You were arguing about something. You said something about him never having met a homosexual and he called you ‘the biggest homosexual there is.’ That’s when I realized my gaydar is completely broken, if not non-existent.”

“How did you not know? My friends keep telling me I’m a walking stereotype.”

“You are. That’s the worst part. I was so disappointed in myself when I didn’t see it sooner.”

“To be fair, I thought you were into Bow.”

“As if. He’s cute and all, but I’m a raging lesbian.”

“What was I supposed to think? You asked if he was dating anyone.”

“I asked if he was dating you.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t into Bow, dummy, I was-” she pauses mid-sentence and mutters something incoherent. “I was just… wondering. Taking an interest in your life, or whatever. Like friends are supposed to.”

I don’t think anything of it. “Can’t believe you thought I was dating him.”

“Well, it’s very hard to tell the difference between platonic and romantic with you.”

There’s something off about the way she says it.

(Are you trying to tell me something?)

(Are you trying to ask me something?)

(Maybe I’m just delusional.)

I decide to jump headfirst into the fire. “What are you trying to say?”

I don't get to hear her response. I don’t know if I ever will, because just then, ‘The Twins Song - Double Happy’ by the Wiggles starts blaring from my phone. I hold in a groan. I love my brother. I really do. But his timing is truly awful. He couldn’t wait a minute before calling?

She checks the caller ID. “Someone named ‘Chadam’ is calling you.”

“I know who it is,” I grumble. Without looking away from the road, I take one hand off the wheel and accept the incoming call, putting it on speaker. “Hi, Adam.”

His voice comes out rushed. “Should Teela and I elope?”

I do a double take. “Sorry, what?”

“Mom and Dad are paying for the wedding, so we can’t uninvite them. If we elope, there won’t be any wedding for them to fund. We can just fly to Vegas or something. We’ll get one of those Elvis impersonators to officiate. You can be a witness, if you want. You won’t have to see them again. Boom, problem solved.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Adam-”

“I thought maybe there was a chance that they’d changed, but they really haven’t, ’Dor. Teela’s mom just asked why you couldn’t make it and now there’s all these passive-aggressive comments being thrown around about your ‘lifestyle’ and your ‘choices’ and… I really don’t wanna put you through that.”

I shoot a nervous glance at the girl in my passenger seat. Her eyebrows are raised. “Where are you?” I ask.

“Bathroom.”

“Okay, listen to me,” I take a deep breath. “First of all, you’re not cancelling your wedding. Especially not because of me.”

“But-”

“What does Teela think about this?”

“We haven’t talked about it, but-”

“Be honest. Do you really want to cancel your wedding?”

“If it means you don’t have to see them again, I’m willing to.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

He sighs. “Okay, obviously I don't want to cancel, but-”

“Then you’re not cancelling. End of story.”

“Adora, of course I wanna have a grand ceremony or whatever. But I’m willing to sacrifice that.”

“You’ve already sacrificed your relationship with them. Don’t make it worse than it needs to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“If it weren’t for me, would this be a problem?”

He sounds almost appalled. “You can’t possibly be blaming yourself for this.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying, you’re only mad at them because of what they did to me. They weren’t good to me, but they were good to you. I’m not asking you to stop being angry. I’m not asking you to move on or to forgive them. It’s not your place to do any of that.”

“Then what are you asking me to do?”

“Do you still love our parents?”

“I hate them.”

“That doesn't answer my question.”

Silence.

I chew the inside of my cheek. “I won’t be mad if you say yes.”

I hear him sigh. His words are reluctant and clipped when he says,“Yeah. They’re my parents. They raised me. And I hate them so much for what they did. But I still love them. That’s fucked up, isn’t it?”

“If I killed someone tomorrow, would you still love me?”

“What?”

“Just give me an answer. An innocent person. If I just murdered them for no particular reason. Would you still love me?”

“I… Yeah. I wouldn’t be happy about it, but… You’re my sister. I can’t just stop loving you.”

“Exactly. That’s the way the world works, Adam.” My voice cracks slightly. “People are horrible and we love them anyway. And this is your special day. Not mine, not theirs. So, tell me the truth. Do you not want them at your wedding, or do you just not want to put me in an uncomfortable situation?”

“It’s more than just ‘uncomfortable,’ its-”

“Answer me.”

There’s a long pause before I receive a reply. “I don’t want to put you in that situation.”

I nod, although he can’t see me. “That’s what I thought.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. And don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.”

He lets out a sound that I think might be a snort, but it’s hard to tell with the poor sound quality. “Sure you are, little sis.”

“We’re twins.”

“I was born first.”

“Two seconds doesn’t make a difference.”

“It was a whole-ass minute.”

I ignore his comment. “Get your ass out of the bathroom and back to the dinner table. Your future in-laws probably think you have explosive diarrhea or something.”

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ve had time to heal and I can’t let them haunt me forever. I’m sure.”

“Okay, love you. Happy Turkey Day.”

“Gobble gobble, dumbass. Love you, too.”

He hangs up and the air is filled with awkward silence.

“I’m sorry about... that,” I tell the girl on my right, trying to break the ice. “It was a lot.”

“It’s okay,” she says. “Do you wanna, like... talk about it?”

I take a moment to think. “No, not really. Not right now.”

I see them nod from my peripheral vision. “Okay.” I’m grateful for that.

I see the familiar hand-painted sign not far ahead. ‘The Whispering Woods.’ Mara thought the name was too whimsical for a diner, but Razz thought it was perfect. It grew on everyone eventually. I park the car. “We’re here.”

I undo my seatbelt and open the car door. They get out of the car, not bothering to undo their seatbelt because they weren't wearing it in the first place. We walk together to the swinging glass doors (“Glass doors? In a place called the Whispering Woods? Seems like false advertising to me,” she jokes as we push them open.)

“Mara, dearie!” My grandmother looks up from the floor she was sweeping. “You’re here!”

“Hey, Razz!” A smile spreads across my face. “It’s Adora. Your granddaughter,” I remind her.

“Don’t be silly, Mara.” She dismissively waves her hand and goes back to sweeping. “Adora was just in the back!”

I shake my head and whisper to Lemony. “She gets me confused with my aunt, even though we look nothing alike,” I explain. “I think she thinks all lesbians are interchangeable.”

“What was that, Mara? You’ll have to speak up, I don’t have my glasses.” She waddles to us and bonks me on the head with her broom. Lemony fails to stifle a surprised chuckle.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You are late,” she states simply.

I look at the clock above the counter. “By 3 minutes!”

“Late is late,” she tuts. “Don’t do it again. Late is bad for karma.”

I love this ridiculous woman. “Okay, Razz. I’m sorry.”

She looks at the beautiful woman next to me. “You must be Hope! Mara has told me so much about you.”

(Oh no.)

My eyes widen. “No, no, no, Razz. This isn't Hope. This is, uh...” Fuck, I don’t know her name.

“Mara keeps telling me that it’s too soon for you to meet me, but I think it’s about time!”

“Razz-”

“Is that Adora I hear?” Mara emerges from the backdoor. A warm smile graces her lips when she sees us. “It is!” She rushes over to us, wrapping me in a hug and shaking Lemony’s hand. “You must be Adora’s…” she throws a pointed glance in my direction, “friend.” I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Lemony nods, her expression unreadable. “That’s me.”

“Why are you both still standing?” Razz asks. “Sit down! Get comfortable! No dilly-dallying. You’re late enough as it is.”

We laugh and sit in the nearest booth. Lemony’s shoulders are hunched over, different from her usual confident posture. I make a mental note to ask if they’re alright once our audience is no longer present.

Mara looks at her. “Forgive me, I don’t think Adora mentioned your name on the phone.” God, I really didn’t think this through. No way she’s just going to-

“It’s C’yra.”

C’yra.

Notes:

giving catra a red scarf because she is secretly a taylor swift enthusiast and 1000% cried while watching the atw short film

wanted to include the whole dinner thingy in this chapter but i got carried away with the conversation between adam and adora

tbh u guys im just making stuff up as i go i dont know i how i got this far

but remember!! u shouldnt feel guilty for still caring about someone after they do something terrible, but caring about them does not mean that you have to forgive them or that their actions are justified.

really really love it when u guys hmu on twitter and/or tumblr so dont be afraid to start a conversation there!

see u next chapter!