#if you actually read/like any of those non-hat fics i'd love to know!

[psylid]

Fandom Fic Rec Days

Thank you to all fanfic authors whose skill & creativity has floored me since middle school, and who continue to share their beautiful work with the rest of us just for the sake of sharing it. You never get as much recognition as you deserve. 

Unfortunately, I used to have a very bad habit of forgetting to bookmark fics and losing them forever. Here are the ones I managed to keep. Some fics are old enough that I’m not sure the author even uses the account anymore, but I’m going to post them anyway. Have fun with my rare pairs.

HAT FILMS:

Title: boundless as the sea (11k words)

Author: ghostofgatsby

Ships: troffy, shatsome

Summary:  Trott drums his fingers on his desk, thinking hard. It had been a few days since he and Smith had talked, and something had occurred to him. He and Smith had been together a long time, but they weren’t bonded in some sort of magical way. It wasn’t until Ross and Sips came around that the idea of magical bonds had come up. The kelpie could use some closure, some grounding, especially as unhinged as they all felt. Something to bind them together would make their court stronger. To bind Smith to him and him to Smith, he’s doing it his own way. And that means selkie magic.

Notes: One of the stories that hooked me into UMY. Beautifully written. Emotionally intense in the best way. The devotion and trust between Trott & Smith rings from every word of this fic, and I adore it.  

**

Title: Hot Whisky Eyes (5.8K words)

Author: Roehrborn

Ships: troffy, hatsome

Summary:  Time and time again, Ross has imagined the unthinkable: his two best friends, naked and wrapped in each other’s embrace. ~IRL Hatsome AU

Notes: For all your (consensual) voyeurism needs with an angst/pining appetizer. Very good smut. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve read this. 

**

Title: Spring (3k words)

Author: leonandon

Ships: hatsome

Summary:  Breezes through windows, staying too long in bed, quiet intimacy and love, lazy morning sex.

Notes: I’m going to try very hard to not put the word “lovely” in every sentence here. Gently slips you into an established, comfortable relationship and it feels so, so nice. Soft and easy and intimate and everything I wanted; a go-to.

**

Title: Boys of Summer (31k words)

Author: threeplusfire

Ships: hatsome, shatsome

Summary:  “I’ll send the car on Wednesday morning to take you to the airport,” Sips said, in the decisive tone of someone very used to getting what he wanted. - The unexpected trip out of town seems like a perfect chance to escape the sweltering summer heat. But not everyone can relax, even in paradise.

Notes: First off, there is a lot of sex and the sex is excellent, high-quality. But, this fic is also (or mainly, rather?) a beautifully complex exploration of character dynamics: Trott’s relationship with Smith & Ross, how best to integrate Sips into their personal lives, and how best to separate all of this from their professional ones. Fantastic AU; stunning fic.

**

Title: Putting the D in Teamwork (5.6k words)

Author: SummerAtLast

Ships: hatsome

Summary:  “Trott.” Ross fixed Trott with his saddest puppy eyes. “Don’t leave me hanging, mate.” “Trott,” whined Smith. “Don’t leave me out.” “Really now, gents,” said Trott. “Teamwork. I can do you both at once.”

Notes: As a heads-up, this fic has the boys as their Minecraft skins, so I guess keep that in mind if you’re put off by non-human dicks. That said, I honestly thought I would be, but I ended up loving this fic a lot. It’s equal parts good smut and funny/filthy banter that feels very correct for the three of them.  

**

Title: Gives Me the Greatest Peace I’ve Ever Known (4.8k words)

Author: leonandon

Ships: troffy, hatsome

Summary:  Smith's way of dealing with things tends to involve running around in the middle of nowhere for a few days. Trott and Ross have never gone along, but this time Trott asks if he can join. Surprisingly, Smith agrees.

Notes: An absolutely gorgeous fic with ace!Smith, which was really exciting for me to find. I love the wilderness setting and the descriptions -- the space. The quiet, the easy affection, and being mindful of boundaries. Another one I’ve read over and over again.    

**

Title: what’s done in the dark will be brought to the light (8.8k words)

Author: vosiferous

Ships: troffy, hatsome

Summary: There is a rattlesnake of a man, one with a soft smile, a gaze that slices through souls, and a tongue that rattles lies like saliva. His blood is poison and his laugh are razorblades. He is a collector of fine artifacts, and he sees value in all things.If you are not careful, he will see the value in you.

Notes: This one is technically unfinished, but each of the 3 chapters are pretty much stand-alone drabbles. Dark and gorgeous UMY stories. The writing has a magic and other-worldliness to it that’s perfect for UMY and makes this a fantastic read. Heed the warnings.

**

Title: Layout (2.8k words)

Author: threeplusfire

Ships: alsipsy

Summary: Lots of comfort, pretty boys and sports. An AU about gymnast!Smith.

Notes: I just have a huge weakness for basically everything in this fic. Takeout, TV, massages. Toys. Sips taking care of Smith in the gym and out. A total feel-good fic. Relaxing and lovely to read. Yet another go-to.

MISCELLANEOUS:

Title: Not Such A Bad Way (5.6k words)

Author: _angelicorn_

Ships: Blue Beetle/Booster Gold (DC Comics)

Summary: (My own, since the author didn’t provide one) Ted makes some upgrades to the Bug, so he and Booster take it for a test-drive. After a disastrous engine failure, they end up stranded in space with no heat and help (in the form of Guy Gardner) hours away. 

Notes: More of my weaknesses. Huddling for warmth. Awkward sex. Best friends’ first time together -- slow & experimental. ANGST. I cry every time, but I promise it all turns out okay. I will love this fic always and forever because it’s such a perfect representation of these dumb men and their beautiful friendship. 

**

Title: The Policeman Officer’s Seduction (852 words)

Author: kyuuketsukirui

Ships: Nicholas Angel/Danny Butterman (Hot Fuzz)

Summary:  You ask someone back to yours after a night at the pub, that's pretty cliched, isn't it? And what could be more romantic than Point Break? But Nicholas just doesn't seem to get it.

Notes: Another best friends’ first time fic but this one is just cute and funny. Danny’s POV is perfect. If you don’t think this is exactly what happened after the movie, I don’t know what to tell you. 

**

Title: Happy Beginnings (2.7k words)

Author: ennui_blue_lite

Ships: Control/Tony (A Bit of Fry and Laurie)

Summary: Control has something important to tell Tony. Sometimes, actions speak louder than words.

Notes: So, my friend and I were kind of in love with the ABoFaL skits featuring Control & Tony Murchison -- spies for the British Intelligence agency. We decided as a joke to look for fic, but it just so happened that one of the only people on the planet who wrote Control/Tony fic was also really, alarmingly good at it. I can’t read this without smiling. If you have no idea what I’m talking about here, you can still read this fic, but you will have many questions about it and probably also about me. (You can watch one of the skits -> here <- if it helps.)

**

Title: None So Blind (25k words)

Author: Brianna Falken

Ships: Mirror!Spock/Mirror!Kirk (Star Trek TOS)

Summary: Spock convinces a blinded Kirk to allow him to create a mental link between them while they are stranded on an uninhabited planet after the shuttle crashes.

Notes: This fic was originally published in a zine in 1997, which I think is very cool, and it’s my favorite Mirrorverse story ever. About learning to trust and lowering guards, even when distrust and distance were all that kept them alive before. Intimate & vulnerable. Even if you’re like me and usually avoid the Mirrorverse, this fic is a lot less dark than most (but still kind of dark, so be safe) and a really good read.

**

Title: Lay Down Your Burdens (8.3k words)

Author: autotunedd

Ships: Choi Seunghyun/John Lee (RPF)

Summary: Tohn vignettes

Notes: Another instance where a friend and I looked for a weird pairing as a joke, but then the fic was so good that the joke was on us. This is Korean rapper T.O.P (of Big Bang) with John Lee, the director of a movie T.O.P starred in called 71: Into the Fire. There’s no brief way to explain why this pairing exists, so I will just say that this fic ruined me. It is so striking, quiet, and achingly beautiful that I was desperate for more tohn but there really just isn’t any. Even if you have no idea who these people are, I can guarantee you will find this fic incredible. I think you have to make an account, but it’s worth it, ok? It’s worth it.  

**

Title: The Cusp and the Fjords We Wade Through (9.6k words)

Author: almadeamla

Ships: Rick Grimes/Shane Walsh (The Walking Dead)

Summary:  Written for the twd_kinkmeme prompt: Rick and Shane had a thing before Rick met Lori.

Notes: Such vivid imagery in this. Matter-of-fact writing style that leaves so much unsaid but clearly understood (shows; hardly ever just tells -- mirrors the natures of characters perfectly). I love the tone of this fic to death. Bittersweet. Aches. So good that I sometimes forget it didn’t happen in the show (and other times I choose to forget). My perceptions of the characters were irrevocably changed. For me, this is the story of Rick and Shane.

This is by no means a complete list; I messed up and had to put this together just today. I’ve read so many excellent fics, but some of them were awhile ago. I didn’t have enough time to read through again and do them the justice they deserve in my notes. So, these are the fics I’ve read enough times that I’ll remember them forever. 

Thank you again, fic authors -- our often unsung heroes. 

[qqueenofhades]

It's so good to have you back! I actually went and got myself a tumblr account in the meantime, so now I can properly follow you instead of just lurking anonymously 😄 Don't have an actual prompt for you, although I saw that you've been watching shadow and bone, and I'd certainly love to read anything you write about those guys if you happen to feel like it 😇 In any case, welcome back, and it's great to hear that things are looking up for you ❤

Haha, thanks! Since you didn’t specify a prompt, and because people seem very excited about this Helnik modern AU that is, to nobody’s surprise, becoming a full-length fic, I will give you an excerpt from chapter one for Important Reasons.

Nina boots up the secured OS, opens Tor, and navigates to a secured messaging site, accessed via a one-time key that will deactivate when used (another one of Jesper’s inventions) and randomly generate a new encryption code that she has to access elsewhere. The Crows have gotten very good at not putting all their eggs in one basket, but when you run a successful grey-hat hacktivist collective that has made a specialty out of pissing off powerful people (including in this very country), it’s a necessary fact of life. There are five of them: Nina herself, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, and the boss, Kaz Brekker. It took a long time for them to reveal real names; for the first few years, they communicated only under pseudonyms. Nina is “Heartrender.” Inej is “Wraith.” Jesper is “Sharpshooter,” and Wylan is “Runaway.” As for Kaz, their mysterious, mercurial man-in-charge who was teaching himself C#, Java, and VBScript at twelve, running Nazi-doxxing ops with Anonymous and Bellingcat at sixteen, and establishing himself as the head of his own feared gang of cyber-criminals at eighteen, he’s “Dirtyhands” or sometimes simply “The Bastard.” The epithet is apt. You don’t survive in this life by making friends or trusting your enemies, and Kaz has a knack for not doing either. Not that Nina’s about to complain. God knows, especially now, she could use a little ruthlessness.

She signs onto the Crows’ dedicated chat channel and sends an innocuous-looking phrase about bad weather which actually means, “I am in deep shit and need to talk to someone right now.” Then she waits, staring at the screen, wondering how long it’ll take to be answered. Kaz and Inej are currently based in Amsterdam, an hour behind, which isn’t too bad. They’re probably awake, not least since neither of them keep a remotely standard schedule, but there are any number of other things they could be doing, most of which are flagrantly illegal. But it’s only ten minutes or so until Nina’s notifications ping, and a message pops up:

Wraith: I’ll call you. Give me a couple min.

Heartrender: Primary phone got snatched. Use burner.

Wraith: Oh shit. Nvm. Calling now.

With that, it’s no more than a few seconds until Nina’s burner phone starts buzzing, she fumbles a little as she grabs it, and tucks it under her ear. “Inej?”

“Nina?” Her best friend sounds understandably worried. “Are you all right? What’s going on?”

“I – ” Nina’s relatively sure that the FSB doesn’t have a fix on this crappy throwaway phone, since she changes the SIM card every month, gets a new number, and otherwise does her best to make sure they don’t, but deeply ingrained habits are not easily shaken. She shoots a glance at the door, making sure her parents aren’t listening. Finally, having been assured that this call is as free of outside interference as can ever be assured in the modern world, she says, “I got busted last night. Big time. They meant business.” There’s a quaver in her voice. She chokes it down.

“Oh Nina, no. Did they hurt you?”

“No, but they – like I said, they were not screwing around. They openly threatened to send me to IK-2 if I kept doing my stuff, and – I’m not giving up. You know I’m not. But it might… it might be time to get out of Russia for a while.”

“Where are you now? Are you safe?”

“At my parents’ house. My backup gear is here. But there’s no way I can work here. They don’t know the half of it, and if they did, they would hit the roof. I don’t have anywhere else I can think of, and…” Nina trails off. “Is there any way I can come to Amsterdam with you?”

“I don’t know.” Inej is clearly thinking hard. “The Crows aren’t exactly a registered company that can offer you a work visa. Kaz is Dutch, obviously, but he could probably only sponsor you for permanent settlement if he married you, and I doubt you want that – ”

“I doubt you want it either – ”

“I have right to remain, at least until Brexit goes through,” Inej says, evidently deciding to power right on past that comment and pretend she didn’t hear it. She and Kaz might be living together, and obviously devoted to each other, but they’re still not yet at the “actual relationship” stage of things, and for all Nina knows, they might never be. “Unless – wait.”

“What?”

“I was joking about Kaz marrying you,” Inej says slowly. “But what if it’s not such a bad idea?”

“What? No. I am not marrying Kaz!”

“Not him,” Inej says. “Someone else. Someone with a non-Russian passport who could theoretically get you out of there. It would be hard, and we’d have to do some work to make the relationship look real, but Jesper could help with whatever we needed forged. Have we ever mentioned Matthias Helvar to you?”

“Matthias who?”

“I’ll take that as a no. He’s another one of Kaz’s… contacts. Norwegian. We helped him get out of jail a year ago, and he owes us a big favor. He’s also stupidly honorable, unattached, and probably pathologically unable to resist helping a lady in distress.” To Nina’s horror or her hope, Inej sounds like she is actually considering this. “If he married you, he might – ”

“If he what? He was in jail?” Nina is aghast. “So he’s a criminal?”

“You know,” Inej says, bone-dry. “We’re all criminals.”

“Yes, but if he was in jail, that means he got caught, and that means he’s a stupid criminal. I could marry a criminal, but I draw the line at a stupid criminal.”

“He wasn’t – it was complicated.” Inej’s tone portends a very long story they definitely do not have time to get into. “Anyway, Kaz helped get him out, and he lives in Oslo now. You could do a lot worse than Norwegian spousal citizenship.”

“This is insane,” Nina says weakly. “Is he ugly? He must be ugly.”

“Really.” Despite the gravity of the situation, Inej is definitely trying not to laugh. “That’s your objection? For the record, no. He’s not ugly. He’s just your type.”

“Oh. Oh, like that’s any better. He can’t possibly be my type. Inej – ”

“Look,” Inej interrupts. “Do you want to get arrested or not?”

“No,” Nina says meekly. “No, I really don’t.”

“So should I ask him?”

This is nuts. This is nuts this is nuts this is nuts this is nuts. Especially since Nina genuinely is starting to play the idea around in her head. Just for a moment. That’s all.

“Maybe,” she says, after a very long pause. “But I am not necessarily agreeing to this.”

“Of course not.” Inej sounds annoyingly smug. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

[johannas-motivational-insults]

I'd like to read your commentary on the closet scene in Hail Mary!

Well ask and you shall receive, friend! (Commentary is bolded.)

I love this scene. Tbh I first wrote the sardines gag into an original fic I wrote in high school and I’m just nostalgic for it. But it is also a really great way to get characters in close quarters together, so... ;)

As it turns out, Adora does find Catra first. She knows her better than anyone, after all, knows how she gravitates towards small, dark, enclosed spaces for a sense of comfort. (Ah, here’s another instance of Catra behaving like a cat but hopefully in a non-distracting way.) Also, there’s the whole thing about how she used to hide in the closet at home when she was scared, or upset after a disciplinary encounter with Ms. Weaver. It was about the only place she could get privacy in that house, sharing a room with two other girls.

Adora remembers hearing her muted whimpers from behind the slatted doors, knocking gently and being yelled at to go away. She remembers sitting down leaning against said doors, guarding the space while Catra collected herself. (A lovely role reversal here!) In the times when she was scared, for good reason, Adora would eventually be torn away by threat or force, Catra would be ripped from her hiding spot, and the screaming would begin. The screaming and…

Adora prefers not to think about those times. She prefers the memories of after the danger had passed when she could just sit there, a comfort to her friend. On rare occasions Catra would not even allow her that, would shout at her until she left the room. Others, she didn’t tell Adora to go away at all, and Adora would crawl into the darkness and find her curled up on the floor, her face stained with tears. Adora would sit silently and take her head into her lap, gently scratching her scalp and stroking her hair, rubbing her back if it was safe to do so. It always calmed Catra down, and it was soothing for Adora too. It helped keep her hands busy and her mind off of what she’d just heard.

Oh hello my poor little traumatized neurodivergent children, stim to your hearts’ content. (And yes, Catra is also neurodivergent in this fic. It’s only been hinted at so far but later it’s revealed that Catra believes she’s ADHD but she never got a chance to get diagnosed because Weaver just saw her as a troublemaker. And because she’s brown many shrinks or social workers would tend to jump to that conclusion too instead of thinking maybe she has a disorder. It’s a little hat tip to the double standards and obstacles to diagnoses that neurodivergent women and POC have to deal with. And you all get to learn that early because you bothered to read this. :D)

Obviously the wave of nostalgia she’s hit by when she finds Catra once again hiding in a closet is not an entirely pleasant one. But she can’t help a small smile either, both at her victory and at seeing Catra’s face. It’s a natural side effect.

“Hey look, I won,” Adora brags when she spies Catra flattened against the wall on one side

Catra shakes her head slightly, amused. “Of course you did.”

Oh wow, I really didn’t hold back on Catra’s subtle resentment, did I?

Pulling the door shut behind her, Adora steps through the thick curtain of garments. Catra actually picked a pretty good spot - there’s a bunch of coats on that side of the closet that obscure her legs, and with how full the closet is it would be easy for someone peeking past the clothes to miss her.

The positioning may be different, the two of them on more or less equal footing and nursing no physical wounds, but Adora can’t shake the sense of awkwardness, her fear that their previous closet rendezvous are all Catra can think about too. (...Out of context this sounds a little bit like they’ve engaged in BDSM in a closet lmao but no, wrong fic.) And the idea of that is unbearable, especially if Catra’s already upset about Scorpia, so Adora takes it upon herself to break the tension.

“Look at us, back in the closet together,” she cracks, poking Catra in the ribs. “Who woulda thought, after all those Pride parades?”

This joke is stupid and I love it.

Catra brushes her hand away with a scoff. “Speak for yourself, I was never in any closet.” Despite her words of protest, she’s smiling a little. Eyeing Adora up and down, she adds, “And you were always like the ultimate sports dyke, so it’s not like people didn’t know about you either. Even if you didn’t figure it out until we met everyone’s favorite MILF.”

I will never let the Huntadora crush die. Tbh this is a little sad though because Catra doesn’t realize it’s always been her for Adora. She doesn’t let it show but she is kinda sad that from her perspective Huntara was Adora’s gay awakening, not her.

Oh, that definitely went a direction Adora didn’t expect. Brow furrowing, she purses her lips as she weighs the cost of the truth, how much she can divulge before it becomes incriminating. Her voice is quiet and eyes are down when she says, “No, I knew.”

It takes a second for Catra to respond. “What, really?”

Slowly lifting her head, Adora raises her eyebrows as she meets Catra’s confused gaze. “Just because I didn’t talk about it doesn’t mean I didn’t know.”

This is such a pivotal moment, just an understated one because it’s from Adora’s POV.  Catra thinks she knows Adora so well, and the idea that Adora not only intentionally kept something (her awareness of her sexuality) from her but was able to fool her is a shot to the ego.

A tiny scoff escapes Catra’s throat, eyes flicking away as her arms fold over her chest. “Never thought you were that good at keeping secrets,” she remarks. Finally she looks back at Adora, gesturing expectantly. “Well? How long have you known?”

Adora frowns in thought. Not because she doesn’t know the answer, but because there’s no casual way to tell your best friend ‘I’ve wanted to marry you since I knew what marriage was.’

I don’t remember what exactly possessed me to write this line, but once it did I knew it was going to murder you all in cold blood. I really enjoyed all the comments about this one. :D

“Always,” is what she says instead. “I mean I didn’t know what it was, but I was always drawn to other girls, always wanted their attention, wanted to be close to them.”

This is such a mood.

Nodding pensively, Catra stares into the darkness. After a moment she murmurs, “Yeah, me too.”

If only she was saying that to what Adora was thinking, not what she said. Because there’s no way Catra could know, right? She’s smart, but she’s not a mindreader. If she was she probably would have kicked Adora out of her room years ago for being a pervert.

Adora she means the exact same thing as you you fucking walnut!

The crack of the bedroom door opening jolts Adora from her thoughts, making her flinch.

“Shit,” she mutters, pushing forward and flattening against the wall, against Catra. In her haste she bounces off the wall slightly and starts to tip backwards, but a pair of quick hands steadies her hips, pulling her closer. Adora’s eyes flick down to find Catra’s already on her, widened in a clear order to be quiet. Adora can barely bring herself to nod apologetically, dazed by the sight. And their proximity. And the scent of sour candies on Catra’s breath.

Because being stuck in a closet together wasn’t taking advantage of the sardines gag enough, I threw this in here. And Adora’s clumsiness provided a great opportunity for Catra to touch her in an intimate way :D. And idk why but the described experience of the smell of the sour candies on top of the close up of Catra’s eyes and them being pressed together is just overwhelming. That sour candies thing gets me every time I read it.

Suppressing the urge to groan, Adora adjusts her positioning and tips her head down so her forehead is resting against the wall, removing that temptation before it can take hold. (Oh right, that’s why it gets me every time.) She breathes deeply, as quietly as possible, praying to god that Catra will interpret her pounding heartbeat as excitement purely from the game. She can feel Catra’s heart hammering against her rib cage too, can hear it echoing in Catra’s jugular mere inches from her ear. Catra’s hands are sweaty where they’ve wound into Adora’s shirt, trembling slightly in anticipation of being caught. Catra may act like she doesn’t care that much about winning and losing, but Adora knows better than anyone just how competitive she is, how wound up she gets.

Oh for fuck’s sakes Adora. I’m glad people asked for Catra’s perspective of this scene because I think confirming in the next chapter that her body was reacting to the exact same thing Adora’s was is valuable. At least a few readers bought into the ‘Catra is competitive/traumatized about hiding in closets’ thing I had going with Adora as an unreliable narrator, so it was probably best to clear it up.

The closet door opens and they both tense, not daring to breathe. The metal hanger hooks screech along the rod as the seeker parts the sea of garments, the sound making Adora wince. The light suddenly flooding their dark space doesn’t help in that regard either. She squeezes her eyes shut with the tiniest little whimper and one of Catra’s hands taps gently against her waist, acknowledging her discomfort and offering solace.

Idk how many people have noticed but I have this running theme of Adora being especially averse to sounds as a sensory sensitivity thing. And the fact that Catra knows and consistently acknowledges it in small ways just makes my heart happy.

In seconds it’s over and the person is closing the closet door, then the bedroom door on their way out. Adora expels as heavy a breath as she dares and whispers, “Phew, that was close.” She starts to pull away and lower her arms from where she’s braced them against the wall, bracketing Catra’s head. (That visual *eyes emoji*) But she doesn’t get very far.

Catra’s arms are locked in place, fingers still clinging to Adora’s shirt. Resting her elbows on Catra’s shoulders, Adora pulls her head back to get a good look at her face. She arches her eyebrows questioningly but Catra’s eyes are fixed firmly on the opposite wall of the closet, refusing to meet hers. Frowning in concern, Adora brushes a thumb over the baby hairs on the back of Catra’s neck. “Catra?”

Still Catra doesn’t respond. Not with words anyway. It’s just a tiny movement, but when her shoulders curl forward into Adora just a little bit, Adora clues in. Sometimes you just need a hug when you’re sad. She gets it.

God damnit. Catra doesn’t want to let go because she’s yearning, not because she’s sad. Why you gotta be like this, Adora? (She says as though she didn’t write it.)

Slowly leaning back in, Adora wraps her arms around Catra’s shoulders. She sighs in relief when she feels Catra respond, relaxing in her grip and slumping slightly to rest her chin on her shoulder. Squeezing a little tighter, she nuzzles into the curve of Catra’s shoulder in response, breathing her in. Catra smells… like Catra. It’s a scent Adora could never quite put a finger on, something uniquely her, but it’s the most comforting smell she knows. It smells like safety, and tenderness, and just a little bit of mischief.

Adora could fall asleep in these arms, in the peace they bring her mind. She has, many times. When they were kids Catra ended up sleeping on her bed more often than not, sprawled half on top of Adora with her head on her chest. Though technically she was usually the one holding Catra, and Catra was often the one seeking comfort, it made Adora feel safer too. It felt a little like Catra was guarding her in the night, and the pressure pinning her to the mattress felt so good. So… secure. They’ve always been better together, perfectly suited to each other’s needs. Adora can't even imagine a life without Catra as her closest companion, and she doesn't want to.

Is that a reference to the torment of canon? Yes, yes it is. Is it also foreshadowing of how agonizing it would be for Adora if she and Catra ever had a falling out? ...maybe.

Absentmindedly brushing her fingers through Catra’s hair, Adora’s pulled out of her head by Catra’s low hum next to her ear. The long lost sound makes her lips turn up. She always used to tease Catra about how she purrs like an actual cat. Not quite, but… it’s nice. It’s soothing.

Rubbing her cheek against Catra’s ear in a similarly feline fashion, Adora chuckles, “Yeah, I miss this too.”

A quiet snort is muffled in her shoulder, Catra’s back puffing out against the arm still slung across her shoulders. “Don’t ruin it.”

“Okay,” says Adora. So she holds her close, and doesn’t say another word.

Maybe this is all she’ll ever get from Catra, holding and comforting her after others have hurt her. But it’s enough. It has to be.

Adora, NO, shut up! She loves you!

Ughhhh well this scene is super cute and super frustrating, both of which want to make me throw things. But that’s very on brand for this fic.