WHO: Catra & Adora WHAT: Therapeutic vandalism, nbd WHERE: Outside their old foster home in North Carolina WHEN: Recently RATING / WARNINGS: Language but that's it
Eggs, check.
Spray paint, check.
Toilet paper, check.
A mix of unresolved childhood trauma from not one but two lives, stuck in one angry, compact little body, ready to be unleashed during a night of illegal activities suggested by a girlfriend who was voted least likely to break any laws in high school? Check.
Catra had been half-joking with her intentions of vandalism but Adora being all over it without a second thought - yeah, that was sexy. Also, super necessary. It wouldn’t fix a damn thing, though she trusted it’d make them feel better than they have been. Communication was a work in progress for them, a struggle they were working on, and she supposed getting it out in some text-form instead of a face-to-face confrontation was a way of doing it.
Less chances of their emotions running high, which was what Catra had been afraid of - something tipping her over the edge, unleashing a wave of hurt and words she’d regret. She didn’t want to do that to Adora. She had hurt her enough in this past life of theirs, and she didn’t think she’d have any memories of her stopping her rampage of revenge any time soon. The last thing she needed to do was break her heart here and if she ever did?
God. She’d never forgive herself.
So this whole thing of rounding up supplies (including a bottle of pineapple rum, something sweet and boozy but easy to down in case her girlfriend did want to give it a go), using one of their daily teleports to bring them to an address she wished she’d forget was a distraction they sorely needed.
“I hate those things so much,” Catra groaned, hunched over with her hands on her knees. That method of fast travel was the norm and she wasn’t a stranger to them, but they always left her nauseated for the first few minutes of arrival. Hopefully she wouldn’t barf all over herself - she liked this outfit, okay. Black leggings, boots, a mesh top. She was trying to go with a covert vibe. “Give me five minutes. Just five.”
Then she’d be ready! Nothing was ruining this. Nothing. But while her stomach settled and the threat of vomit ebbed, she took the chance to survey the area as nostalgia slapped her across the face. She didn’t think she’d ever be back here, to the street where she and Adora grew up - yards away from a house that felt more like a prison than a warm place to call home. Even in the darkness of the night, she noted how it hadn’t changed a bit.
She inhaled a steadying breath of air. “What I wouldn’t do to make out under her roof again and spread some gay germs around.”
The last thing Adora had ever expected to be doing on a Friday night was this.
She wasn’t entirely sure what had come over her. Even thinking of doing something like this was so not her. She generally followed whatever rules were set before her to a T. But she and Catra had finally had a more expansive conversation about those memories, despite it being in text-form rather than in-person, and she’d been running purely on confusing, conflicting emotions when Catra’s joke had struck a chord. So, she’d said it, and she’d meant it, even if it was a spontaneous, reactive kind of thing. She needed some way to blow off steam, and she knew Catra did, too.
Why not, right? What was the worst that could happen?
It wasn’t like they owed Shadow Weaver anything. The only good she’d ever done was housed them, and it wasn’t like it was out of the goodness of her heart. She’d tried to pit them against each other, against the other kids in the house. She had elevated Adora above the rest and tried to make them all hate her (although, thankfully, she’d failed). She had made them afraid to be themselves in the place that was supposed to be their home, their safe space. She had thrown Catra out and forced Adora to break up with her and played a big part in screwing up their relationship for a long time.
She had done nothing for them. She deserved nothing, especially not their kindness or their loyalty. And yet, Adora couldn’t help the guilt and uncertainty knotting her stomach.
She brushed it aside, though, as they went out to collect everything they’d need: eggs, spray point, toilet paper, rum. She’d even had to buy a black sweatshirt to pull over her shirt. Her typical bright red jacket would stick out, and she didn’t own much of anything dark. She’d probably wear it tonight and pass it on to Catra, but it was necessary for now. The last thing they needed was a neighbor getting a good look at them and ratting them out.
Adora slid the old backpack holding their supplies off her shoulder and onto the sidewalk when Catra doubled over. “Take as long as you need,” she murmured, sliding both hands soothingly up and down her girlfriend’s back. She had never done well with teleports, no matter how many times she used them, so Adora just did her best to comfort her.
She stared up at the house contemplatively. Shadow Weaver was definitely gone. All the lights were out, the grass was overgrown, and the old Range Rover Shadow Weaver had driven at least Adora’s entire life was parked in the one-car driveway. She’d had her gardening club with several other creepy neighborhood friends on Friday nights since literally forever.
(Adora was fairly sure it was actually a cult or a coven or something, though. Like, what kind of gardening club met at night? It had taken her an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that it made no logical sense.)
“Yeah.” A small smile turned up one side of her mouth but slipped away just as quickly. “She might actually murder us now, though. Doesn’t need us for money anymore.”
“I’d love to see the bitch try,” Catra grumbled darkly, deciding that the sidewalk was an excellent spot for her to spend those few minutes gathering herself. Her legs were stretched out before her as she watched the house - or glared at it, that was more accurate.
Her feelings weren’t as conflicted. That’s what she told herself, anyway. Even as a little girl she was always good at sussing people’s intentions out; she knew their foster mother was rotten from Day One. But, somehow, she always craved her approval and affections, and she knew it was all due to the pitiful instinct of an abandoned child searching for a mother in someone.
And that was how she managed to crawl right under their skin, sewing up these seeds of doubts and insecurities against one another. Catra knew the manipulation, saw it clear as day, yet got wrapped up and lost in it anyway.
When her stomach eased, she fished rum from the backpack and unscrewed the top. “You know,” Catra started, taking a quick swig of the bottle’s contents without much of a cringe. It barely had a bite going down, but she had partied enough during their time apart to get used to it. “It’s weird. I remember always knowing what she was trying to do, when she would tell me things like - that I was holding you back? I was some distraction to you? Always with the mind games. But somehow even if I knew she was full of shit, she still somehow made me believe it?”
Catra had to give her credit in some fucked up way. Shadow Weaver did a hell of a job messing with their heads.
Adora sat down beside Catra on the sidewalk, crossing her legs and slinging one arm around her waist. She would usually give her a hard time for drinking, but she had given the go ahead this time, as long as she wasn’t getting totally smashed. And if there was ever a reason to drink, this was the perfect one. She was still rolling the idea around herself.
“Yeah.” She nodded, then tucked her chin over Catra’s shoulder. “She was good at that.”
They’d both been fucked with by Shadow Weaver their whole lives, so much so that it was probably some kind of miracle they were functional at all. Catra, at least, had seen through it easier than Adora had, but she’d also had it much, much worse, no matter how much Adora tried to intervene. Shadow Weaver had this way of sucking people in that made them feel stupid for ever doubting her. Adora would never be able to wrap her mind around it.
“And I know you know this,” she began quietly, “but none of that was true. You were never holding me back and you were never a distraction. You were what kept me going.” She squeezed Catra’s side and kissed her temple. “You still are.”
She studied the house for another moment before holding out her free hand. “Alright. Give me some.”
Catra knew that. Now, anyway. Back then she tried not to obsess over the possibility that Shadow Weaver was right, but them getting caught didn’t help. Neither did everything else that came right after it. It was one of the reasons why Adora was kept at a distance once the dust settled despite having cleared the air as to why what happened even happened.
Okay, yeah, part of it was due to the fact that she had this impressive ability to hold onto a grudge like no one’s business (a trait that echoed strongly in another life, too), but she wanted test the theory - see if being away from Adora made her better, happier. Maybe she’d realize Catra was holding her back, or find someone better.
Adora didn’t. They loved each other, even apart. Catra figured out her own independence, and Adora came back to her. They were together again. She had no intention of letting go.
“Like, the rum?” She blinked as she leaned her weight into Adora, nestling into her girlfriend cozily. She rarely drank. Catra didn’t mind if she wanted to indulge - she knew when to stop, so she obviously didn’t mind keeping an eye on Adora in case she got a little too tipsy. “Sure. Go for it, babe. I got you. Just take it slow.” The bottle was handed over. “Baby sips.”
Adora nodded and did exactly as she was told, taking three sips before passing it back. It didn’t feel too awful going down, so that was a plus, but she was still going to be extremely careful. She was notoriously a lightweight and generally abstained because even just a little too much screwed her up beyond belief. But she felt like she needed some of that liquid courage tonight. Being back here was making her mind race; right now, a little fogginess from a drink would be a welcome relief.
“It’s weird being here,” she said quietly. She hadn’t been back here once since she’d left to stay with Bow and Glimmer, so she had no clue what was going on now. But she prayed the unkempt state of the house meant the old witch wasn’t allowed to foster kids anymore, at least. She hated to think of anyone else living through the same cycle they had.
Finally, she took a slow breath and mustered up her resolve. She could do this. For Catra, for herself — they had earned it. “You ready to do this?”
Adora was definitely in a mood if she went through with boozing up. That was fine, though, really - she didn’t need to always force herself to keep it together. Catra was always going to be there to catch her.
Twisting around a bit, she sat up on her knees and then threw her arms around Adora’s neck to pull her close. “So ready,” she confirmed, dropping a kiss onto that hair poof she so insistently styled herself with. Catra took a moment to hold her, tight, cheek resting atop of her head. I love you. “What are you starting with? Eggs? Toilet paper? I call dibs on spray painting the garage door.”
Ohhhh, she had just the design in mind, too.
Adora breathed in the scent of Catra around her, clinging to her just as tightly, and felt herself relax. This was going to be fun. Good for them. It didn’t matter if Shadow Weaver got angry; that was the point. She was overthinking (as she was prone to do) and needed to just go with it.
Maybe a little more of that rum would help? She grabbed the bottle and took a mouthful before she could think about it. Not an excessive amount but enough that she could feel it near-instantly. It still felt manageable, for now, and she started to feel less stuck in her own head.
“Eggs,” she decided, pulling the bag close to take out a carton of twelve. They’d gotten several twelve-packs instead of the box of sixty. It was a total waste of money but easier to transport and keep whole. She didn’t want any breaking before they were meant to be broken.
She leaned up to steal a proper kiss and grinned. “Let’s go.”
Another chug. Oh, okay. Catra wasn’t going to judge. She encouraged it, and was completely ready to play nurse in the morning in case it was too much. Considering Adora had almost no tolerance for the stuff she wouldn’t be surprised if she was already at her limit?
“You’re my favorite,” she expressed oh so fondly, kissing those grinning lips back. Catra snatched up a carton of eggs and snuck over closer to the house, her other hand around Adora’s to pull her along. And when it was right before them, like some looming, empty monster that housed all the shitty things that happened to them -
She decided to get on one knee, opening up the carton as if it were some velvety box holding a precious diamond rock. “Adora - will you do me the honor of throwing the first egg? You’d make me the happiest girl in the world.”
Adora’s heart jumped when Catra dropped down to one knee. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around one of the backpack’s straps flew to her chest and her face became unbearably hot. She knew it was ridiculous — obviously there was no proposing happening here or in the near future — but the instinctive reaction was hard to shake.
Luckily, Catra followed it up with just about the silliest, cheesiest fake proposal she could imagine. She burst out laughing, gazing down at Catra lovingly as she plucked free one of the eggs set in the center.
“A thousand times yes!” she exclaimed dramatically. She fluttered her eyelashes at her girlfriend playfully before turning her focus to the house.
She weighed the egg in her hand, squinted at the front door as she took aim, and threw it with all her might. It hit the wood with a satisfying smack, splattering across the surface.
Did she actually - you know what? Catra was going to save that nugget to tease her with later. They had a house to ruin.
“That was the most beautiful sound I’ve heard,” she gasped out when the egg made contact, yolk and shell pieces dripping down. My turn. She set the carton down to pick up two eggs, and once she got on her feet she flung one into the door - the next went to one of the windows.
It felt good. Like, really good. A grin stretched across her face, wicked, the mix of shadows and streetlight glow giving her teeth a sharper look - as if she had her fangs. “Bet you dish duty that I can throw more eggs at this hellmouth than you, princess.”
Why not make it into a friendly competition? Game on.
Adora felt as if some primal part of her brain had been reactivated. There was something thrilling about taking such petty revenge out on the place they had called home for so long. She had two lives worth of confusion and resentment and suppressing herself at Shadow Weaver’s behest battling in her mind. This wouldn’t change any of that or make it better, but it would give her a rush and sense of accomplishment she desperately needed.
And, of course, she could never resist Catra challenging her. They had thrived off competition, mostly friendly, for so long that it was ingrained in her. She didn’t care if she was better, but she’d be damned if she wasn’t a worthy opponent.
She knelt down to dig into the bag and take out each of the numerous cartons of eggs. She laid them all out at their feet in a row, even popping them open one by one so the eggs were within easy reach. Once she was finished, she stood up with an egg in each hand and smiled at Catra widely.
“Bring it on,” she declared. “Ready? Go!” She wound back and pelted her weapons at the house aimlessly. She didn’t care where they landed as long as she could hear that satisfying splat.
Leave it to Adora to be that meticulous about setting the groundwork up for this competition. Catra had to appreciate the orderliness of it, she really did, with the way everything was perfectly laid out and opened - couldn’t expect anything less from the neurotic woman she chose to love.
(She swooned, but on the inside.)
She sprung into action as quickly as she said go!, armed with eggs and catapulting them into the house one after another. It was a chorus of them breaking, not a single one going to waste. Every single one splattered the moment they hit the house. In the flurry of it all, caught up in the moment of expelling feelings out by violent throwing, Catra couldn’t even remember who got the last egg but sooner than they thought, the cartons were emptied.
“Wait,” she panted, putting her hands on her hips as they cocked to the side. “Were we supposed to keep count? Because I sure as fuck didn’t. Whatever. Dibs on winning!”
Adora was just as caught up in the pure adrenaline of it all. Doing something like this was so out of her realm of normal but it was cathartic. It was petty, yeah, but it was some small way of taking revenge on the woman who had haunted their childhoods and did her absolute best to tear them apart.
Before she knew it, every egg was splattered across the front of the house. Adora let out some kind of half-crazed, half-relieved laugh, her heart beating double time. She hadn’t thought for a second about how they were supposed to win either. She didn’t care.
“You are so hot. You can totally win,” she declared, stepping up to grab Catra and kiss her fiercely. She would ordinarily be a little more careful, especially around here. Shadow Weaver wasn’t the only one in this area with archaic views about sexuality and relationships. But she was happy and she was in love, and for the first time ever, nothing was standing in her way. Their way.
Catra had been about to let out a sound a victory when she was snatched up and pulled into a bruising kiss, the best kind, and she may have gotten a little ahead of herself too - arms going around her neck, keeping her close, letting out a soft moan into her mouth.
“You’re a fun drunk,” she whispered once the kiss broke, keeping herself velcroed to Adora as she did a cute little sway with their bodies. It was rare to see her like this, finally unwound - caution tossed to the wind. “I got something in mind for the garage door. I think you’ll like it.”
It forced her to pull away from their hold, alas, but she fished out a can of spray paint that she jostled up with a shake. “Just stand watch and make sure no one’s watching, okay?”
Catra went to work, diligently and quickly. It was a simple doodle, all lines and circles, but a very clear illustration of cartoon versions of their faces grinning like the shits they were - she had drawn Adora with that unmistakable poof, and herself with cat ears she didn’t even have but it didn’t feel right drawing herself without it.
It was the same illustration etched into their bunk in the Fright Zone. That one, unfortunately, had a set of claw marks from grief.
“There.” It was finished. Catra took a step back to view her work. “What’cha think?”
Stand watch. Okay, that was something Adora could do without any trouble. She turned her back to Catra, folded her arms over her chest, and very seriously began surveying the street. Left to right, then back again. She could hear the steady spray as Catra worked her magic on the garage door. She had always been the more artistic of the two of them; Adora probably would have just, like, painted over the windows or something.
With Catra’s prompting, Adora turned back around to check out what her girlfriend had been so excited to design. A slow smile curled her lips when she saw the familiar drawing. An image of their bunk in the Fright Zone flashed clearly in her mind’s eye. It was identical, even the cat ears on Catra’s head, the mask she wore, the little fangs poking out of her mouth — while Adora, of course, looked the same as always.
“I love it, sweetheart.” She stepped up behind Catra and slipped her arms around her waist. Shadow Weaver would know it was them who caused this destruction immediately, but oh well. It was worth it.
“TP next?” she asked after a few long moments. “Gotta go all out, right?”
Oh, she would know, and Catra wouldn’t care. Not like she had the means to track them down anyway - the world was big, the ease of teleports literally making it their oyster. She would know exactly who did it and that they were still together, and none of her shit could keep them apart for long.
“Thanks, I’m super proud,” she grinned, dropping the can to the ground so she could clasp her hands over Adora’s, leaning back into her. She’d have to take a picture of it before they left. Toss that into the digital photo album of their lives together and whatnot, because this was definitely memorable. As questionably ethical and petty as it was.
And then -
A light flipped on upstairs, at a window. The one they had always known to be her bedroom window.
Catra tensed in Adora’s arms as her eyes went wide. “Shit,” she cursed. “Shit shit shit - she’s here?”
Adora froze the second she saw a light — her light — turn on upstairs. Shadow Weaver was home. She was here, had been the whole time. But how?! For twenty years, Fridays were her night out. It didn’t matter if it was a holiday, birthday, if one of them was sick. Twenty freaking years she had gone out for her club meetings on Fridays. When had that changed? Why? How could she not have known?!
Oh God. How could she have been so freaking stupid, so reckless? They could get in trouble for something like this. Probably just, like, slaps on the wrists, but still! Shadow Weaver was vindictive as hell. Adora’s abandonment had made her even more bitter, and if she ever found out she had gone back to Catra…
“Okay, fuck,” she breathed. She shook herself back into awareness and leaned down to grab the bag, abandoning the empty spray canisters and egg cartons without a second thought. “We have to go, babe. If she catches us—” She hurriedly zipped up the bag and slung it onto her back, reaching out for Catra’s hand. “You ready?”
Catra wasn’t ready. Her feet were rooted to the same spot Adora had embraced her in, and she watched second by second how the rest of the lights came on - the hallway light, and she could see more from the little window over the stairs. Then came the lights downstairs, the foyer illuminated and visible from the front door.
Shadow Weaver’s silhouette was blurry, but visible - like darkness, or an actual shadow lurking.
They needed to get the hell out. Run, get teleported elsewhere before something happened. It wasn’t as if she was emotionally ready to come to another set of blows with the bitch. Her presence still stirred apprehension in Catra - even fear, so deeply rooted into her that it was hard to shake.
But she was also tipsy, and also pissed. The feeling felt like a sudden jolt of lightning sparking a fire of rage.
“C’mere,” she growled, taking Adora’s hand and yanking her back. They could hear the clicks of the door being unlocked, the squeaky sound of the doorknob being turned. Catra’s eyes weren’t on the door - they stayed on Adora, burning with some indescribable feeling that led to wrapping her arms around her waist, body weight supported by the tips of her toes so she could lean up and kiss Adora like it’d be their last, right as she knew the door was opened and a searing gaze was set upon them.
Adora’s brows furrowed when Catra just didn’t move. This was not a situation they wanted to be in, and she was sure Catra knew that. Actually confronting Shadow Weaver hadn’t been part of the plan, but the longer they stood there, the closer she was getting to them. While Adora was less intimidated by Shadow Weaver, she still didn’t want to see her. She didn’t want to have to face her, especially after the destruction they’d just wreaked here.
It wasn’t that long, couldn’t be more than fifteen seconds, but it felt like an eternity of watching the house’s lights come on. And then, there she was in the doorway, this intimidating shape she knew too well.
The instant Catra pulled her forward and kissed her like the world was ending, time sped up. Her heart raced in her chest, echoing in her ears, and she couldn’t help but sink into it. She knew it was an intentional fuck you to Shadow Weaver, in part, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t resist even if she truly wanted to.
“Okay,” she whispered, letting their lips part just for a minute. “Okay, baby, we need—we should go. Before she gets to us.” She had her doubts Shadow Weaver would chase them down, but if they stayed here, she knew they would be approached.
There was a moment where Catra looked almost dazed from the kiss, licking her lips and raking her eyes over Adora’s face with a need to do it again, more than once or even twice. But her urgency quickly sobered her, and she knew they had an audience staring them down - though she didn’t have the courage to stare at the beast right back just yet.
“Run,” she choked out. Catra found her hand, held tight, and began sprinting away fast. They were both athletic, and could stand a while being quick on their feet. She still had the neighborhood mapped out in her head, the twists and turns and blocks all the same, and she didn’t stop until they reached a playground she knew was far enough away from the house to where they could stop and catch their breath.
Who knew if she’d call the cops or not, but if the po-po decided to patrol they could like - hide in the slide somewhere until they left.
Catra exhaled a heavy breath, hands on her hips as her heartbeat started to slow. “Fuck,” she scowled. “Did not expect that to happen but you know what? I don’t regret it. I’m glad she saw us. Hope we traumatized her.”
Adora was breathless by the time they reached the playground, but she was glad to have gotten away from there. Shadow Weaver may not have dark magic here, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do some damage. She’d proven she was more than capable even without actual magic. The ‘murder’ comment she’d made earlier was only half a joke. She wouldn’t put it past the old witch.
“Maybe we did,” she chuckled. “Probably just pissed her off though.” She grabbed Catra’s hand again and pulled her a couple feet over to the empty roundabout, sitting down on the flat disk and shrugging the backpack off her shoulders. She needed a few minutes to recover before they went home and, well, they were here.
So far things were quiet. Catra would take that as a win.
“I’m fine with pissing her off too,” she huffed, flopping onto her back on the roundabout to look up at the sky. Full of stars, a crescent moon. Eventually, her breath evened, and her hand floundered about until she found one of Adora’s to hold. “What about you, though? Do you - are you regretting coming here?”
All fun and games until they were on the verge of getting caught. Catra thought it was still fun, anyway - she needed it. Adora did too.
Adora took Catra’s waving hand and kissed it, smiling down at her fondly as she stretched out across the roundabout. After a moment, she threaded their fingers together and laid down beside her to look up at the night sky. The moon and stars were so bright; she’d forgotten how clear and pretty it was out here.
“No, I don’t regret it,” she admitted, giving her girlfriend’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “We needed that and it felt pretty good, even the end there. We deserved it.” She turned her head to kiss the top of Catra’s head. “I can’t believe she was home, though. I was so sure she would be gone.”
She was still in disbelief about that, and it made her want to investigate further. After all these years, Shadow Weaver changing her habits made no sense. What could have changed? She knew, in the long run, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t in their lives anymore. But with these new/old memories they’d been dealing with, she couldn’t help feeling suspicious.
“Same, but -” Catra switched to her side, resting her cheek against Adora’s shoulder as she cuddled in close. “Who cares? I’m glad she was there.”
She brought her free hand up, thrumming her fingertips against her chest. Having been that close to Shadow Weaver, even without direct interaction, had her nerves a little twisted - she was trying to smooth them out, get back to her senses. “Getting caught by her always felt like it would lead to a death sentence. And getting caught this time - I don’t know, it felt good knowing she can’t do anything about us.”
In a way they kinda won, didn’t they? That was how she saw it. Made her feel better about it all, anyway, because fuck that woman. She was a nightmare incarnate in every damn lifetime.
Adora maneuvered her arm around Catra’s shoulders, rubbing her upper arm and tucking her head under her chin. The thrumming against her chest made her realize she wasn’t the only one a little thrown by the whole thing. It had been one thing to take vengeance on Shadow Weaver’s house when they were sure she wasn’t there. But seeing her — while it didn’t make the good feelings fade completely, it certainly frazzled the nerves.
“You’re right,” she murmured, tilting her face down to nuzzle her girlfriend’s forehead with her nose. “We’re free of her. She can’t do anything about us. She’s evil and old and alone and we finally get to be happy without her breathing down our necks.”
A smile burst out across her face and a strangely blissful calm loosened the knot in the pit of her stomach. The world hadn’t ended. She held no power over them anymore. They’d gotten away from her and out from under her thumb for good. That was something to be proud of and to celebrate.
Catra was savoring this moment extra hard. Maybe it had to do with the bit of booze coursing through her veins, whatever. Adora smelled nice, and she was warm, and they were cuddling after vandalizing their former childhood home and - y’know what? Life at the moment was good.
“There you go,” she grinned, lifting her head to look at her face. “Finally, you’re at my level of vibing.” Catra began peppering kisses across her face, speaking in between them. “I’m proud of you.” Kiss. “You’re super hot when you’re being naughty.” Kiss, that one was to her jaw. “You’re my favorite.” Kiss, to the shell of her ear. “And I’m hungry - wanna take me out to dinner? I’ll be cheap for you. Like, we can do Dairy Queen.”
Hey, she was in the mood for greasy food and ice cream. Their excursion worked up her appetite.
Adora let her eyes flutter closed, a small grin adorning her lips while Catra covered her face with kisses. She loved the tingly feelings that came with each press of those lips against her skin and puffed up when compliments followed. She was pretty proud of herself, too. She rarely broke out of her fairly strict set of self-imposed rules, especially for something like this. But it had felt amazing, and making Catra proud was just the cherry on top.
She opened her eyes, lifting both hands to tangle in Catra’s mane and coax her into a proper kiss. If she’d partaken in just a little more of that pineapple rum, she would probably be going for sex right here in the roundabout. As it was, the brief high was starting to edge out and her faculties were starting to come back. And frankly, this thing probably wasn’t exactly sanitary. Maybe another time.
“Dairy Queen sounds excellent, baby,” she whispered against Catra’s lips. She could definitely eat after that adventure, and DQ would be quick and easy. One hand slipped away to stroke Catra’s cheek. “And you’re my favorite, too, y’know. Always.”
Catra was practically beaming. She could almost feel the instinctual urge to rub her face into hers to smother Adora with her scent - something she did as some child-kitten in their so-called past life, a way to mark Adora as hers because she’d been a wild, possessive little thing despite the Horde’s teachings.
“Let’s gooooo then,” she groaned as she untangled herself from her and stood. Her hand reached for hers, and Catra helped pull her back to her feet. “Guess we’re just gonna be stocked up pretty good on the toilet paper front since we got interrupted and - oh.”
She remembered something. There was a gleam to her eyes, and suddenly her grin looked way too pompous. “So, you wanna talk about the face you made when I dropped down to one knee now, or should we discuss it over fries and blizzards?”
Adora should have known something like this was coming when she saw that look in Catra’s eyes. “Oh!” She blushed, her face burning up to her ears, and rubbed at the back of her neck. “I guess you just surprised me.”
She hadn’t had a lot of time to dwell on her reaction to the egg-proposal when it happened, but now? Well, she knew there was no proposal coming, probably not any time soon, but the idea was still nice. A leap, though, for sure.
Oh, she could see the darkening of her cheeks - the dim glow of streetlights helped make that visible to her anyway. Catra snorted, snatching Adora’s wrists to help lead her hands right to her ass.
“Adora,” she began, coiling her own arms around her neck. Catra was staring at her dead in the eye, a dire severity to her as if she was on the verge to profess something serious. “Sometime in the future, when I do get the chance to seriously propose? It sure as hell won’t be in front of that house.”
Then the grin returned, brightening up her face, and she patted Adora on the cheek. “You good now?”
“When?” Adora echoed. Her embarrassment instantly melted away and a dopey smile spread across her face as her heart picked up speed in her chest. She reached up to cover the hand Catra had laid on her cheek with one of her own and gazed into her girlfriend’s mismatched eyes. She didn’t care if she was being sappy or overemotional; this totally warranted it.
“I love you.” She pressed her forehead against Catra’s. “And I will definitely say yes when you propose. Just so you know. Unless I beat you to it, obviously.” She grinned and leaned in for a kiss.
Yes, definitely a when. Catra always knew that was the direction she wanted to go in, and she was pretty sure Adora was on the same boat but the reassurance that she wouldn’t reject her was nice to hear. They were a little young for the plunge now - though, hell, not like getting hitched would stop them from accomplishing whatever they wanted for their futures.
“Spoiler alert,” she laughed, the sound smothered by the kiss she landed. It was of course returned, butterflies fluttering in her gut. “I love you too, dummy, and if you rob me from this glory then we’re going to have some fucking words. But I’d say yes, too.” Catra twirled fingers into her girlfriend’s ponytail. “Obviously.”
“I’ll try not to steal your glory,” Adora chuckled, all smiles and sparkly eyes. She kissed her again, slow and lingering. She was sure she would swoon just as hard when the moment came as she had when Catra had dropped down in front of her at that house. Though it would definitely be more romantic taking place literally anywhere else.
“But we’ll see who gets it done first.” She gave Catra’s cheek a playful pat before grabbing her hand. “Now let me get my girl some DQ.”
What a kiss. Catra lost herself in it for a moment there, forgetting where they were and what the night had entailed - the smooch got her intoxicated on a whole different level. God. If she kept that up she was just going to drag her over to the slide and have her way with her.
Super tempting, actually.
“Pleaaaase and thank you,” she sang, pressing a smaller kiss to her lips before squeezing her hand and tugging her along. “It’s a victory dinner. And we dodged getting arrested, so!”