boxitup | fun shippy fluff don't hate us 'cause you ain't us

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fun shippy fluff don't hate us 'cause you ain't us

It's been a few months since the failsafe reached the Heart, and they're finally doing something they'd always thought they'd do together: they're exploring Etheria.

They started off in the vicinity of Bright Moon and wandered from there, following maps to find towns and stopping at unmarked settlements along the way. Teaching each-other tidbits they'd picked up, learning others together. Filling in gaps in their knowledge of the world.

They're at the edge of some small village now, replenishing supplies for their trip. Or, well. Adora is replenishing supplies. Catra had been left to set up their campsite, which she did, and one playful swipe led to another and then to some tackling and rolling around, and then to a small chase, and then Melog had proudly created an illusory duplicate of themselves to get her off their tail.

So now there are two Melogs, and Catra's on all fours, her tail trailing an eager 'S' in the air as her eyes dart between them. The Melogs are in much the same position, and they mewl at her in synchronization as both their and Catra's shoulders shimmy down, ready to pounce. The campfire she was supposed to light is well and truly forgotten some distance away, the branches and tree litter strewn messily about. She's got bits of it stuck in her hair and in her fur, and even Melog's picked up a leaf or three from their playing.

That doesn't matter. What matters is choosing the right one.

Her claws twitch against the soft ground, the vibrant green grass that Adora's magic had restored a pleasant cushion against them. She breathes deep, steadies herself; and with a cry, launches at the Melog on the left.

Either she's correct or both of them were corporeal, because she connects and rolls with them in a tumble, a laugh bubbling up from her chest as Melog's tongue licks messily up her cheek. Her objection - "Ugh!" - is lost under the smoosh of their muzzle against her face as they increase their size to pin her, and their exaggerated purr rumbles right through her bones.

"Okay, okay." Catra pushes at them, grinning and with laughter in her words despite her struggling efforts. "You won, I get it! Now let me up! We have to finish before Adora gets back."

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"Who, me?" Catra teases immediately. "I wasn't going to say anything. But now that you mention it--"

She makes a quick swipe for Adora's bread, yanking it as she stands up and leisurely pivots on her heel, tail risen and curved. Something about all these feelings is just making her feel looser, the giddiness of Adora's mood getting to her like some sort of infection. It happens rather a lot, these days. "--You are kind of slow on the uptake."

And she takes a pointedly large bite of Adora's bread, ignoring her own piece still near where she'd sat, fangs crunching down into the crust and spilling crumbs freely to the ground. Tastes better when it's stolen, anyway.

"-- Catra! You have your own!"

... Which is easily within reach, yes, but who would Adora be if she didn't rise to the challenge? She tears her remaining chunk of fish off its skewer, works on chewing as she rises to her feet-- and she's not quite through when she tackles Catra for her stolen bread, shouting out the demand with her mouth still full: "Gimme that!"

Good thing Catra's so good at biting things, or she might not have managed to chew and swallow down the mouthful of bread before Adora collides with her, knocking her to the ground. As it is, she yelps; scrabbling immediately out from under Adora's weight, kicking indiscriminately as she clutches the stolen bread tightly to her chest.

And all the while she's unable to disguise the laugh in her voice as she presses a hand against Adora's gross face, shoving her away to help Catra's escape efforts.

"No way! It's not even yours!"

Edited 2020-06-28 18:00 (UTC)

"I'm the one who got 'em! It's my bread! And you're squashing it!"

Some bits of fish fly out with Adora's retort-- okay, yes, that's disgusting-- and she finally swallows. Her grip shifts with Catra's struggles, refusing to relent, but Catra's like a little wiggly worm that kicks, and that's always made her a nightmare to pin down for long.

"Give it back before you regret it, Catra," she warns-- and because Catra so obviously won't heed that warning, she doesn't even wait before bringing one hand down to fiercely tickle Catra's side.

It's true, Catra was absolutely not going to heed that warning. If she still wore her old Horde ensemble, the stiff fabrics would have done a bit to protect her sides from Adora's hands. Shame for her, her new clothes are flimsier; and the wriggle of Adora's fingers are clearly felt through it, all of Catra's body seizing and spasming as she yowls in protest, her efforts to escape failing as she instinctively jams both arms down to hug across her stomach in defense.

"--Melog!" She manages to gasp out, squeaky and pitched, fighting back the laughter. She won't give Adora the satisfaction, she won't. It takes all of her mental fortitude to take her arm away from her stomach for the quick second she needs to throw the thoroughly squashed bread in a random direction, but Catra's spite trumps all else. She knows Melog will catch it, and Adora will definitely not be getting the bread back now.

Adora gasps as her bread goes sailing through the air in slow-motion, and Melog leaps up to catch it in their mouth before running off. The sight of it is devastating, even drawing an anguished cry from her lips-- but far deeper ingrained than her love of baked goods are Adora's soldier instincts, and she does not let Catra's moment of vulnerability slip by.

Awful considerate of you to raise your arm like that, Catra. That's all the opening Adora needs to sink the fingers of her other hand into the soft fur of underarm, strengthening her attack twofold. And now that her bread is gone, Adora's out for blood, her fingers swift, merciless, and intimately familiar with all of Catra's weak spots.

"Wow, Catra! Left yourself wide open. Such a bold strategy. How's that working out for you?"

It might be costing her personally, but Catra has won, okay. No victory is ever without its price, and Adora's cry of distress is worth the torture.

Catra's arm jams back down quickly, but it's too late. Adora's fingers are already there, wriggling directly into her fur and against her skin, and Catra jerks violently away from that hand; which only presses her into Adora's other, and there are tears of strain burning in her eyes that Catra cannot keep from blurring her vision as her chest heaves with rapid breaths and her back arches, desperately trying to evade Adora's tickles. Even flinging out her elbows to knock into Adora's arms doesn't get her any reprieve, and a dozen razor-sharp responses slip out of Catra's mind. Adora knows her too well and Catra's ticklish spots did not have the courtesy to diminish in sensitivity in the time they were apart, and that's really just. Unfair.

"Adora!" She manages to get out, though high-pitched and trembling with laughter, her stomach muscles aching. "Cut it out!"

"I don't know, Catra, will it bring back my bread?"

She shouldn't push her luck, Adora knows. But Catra is nothing short of irresistible like this, laughing and squirming and wholly her own. (And she really did want that bread -- though it pales in comparison with each passing moment.)

It's just not a fair request to make of her. How is she supposed to pull her hands away, when Catra's writhing has dragged up her shirt to expose the fluff of her tummy? How can she not slip her fingers right there, rake them greedily through soft fur and quivering flesh?

--But she's not heartless. She'll offer Catra a way out, see. "Say please."

Catra's lungs are aching, her muscles are burning, and she can't see. It's obvious that she needs to surrender, retreat, and regroup. She's done it before, she can pay Adora back for this later. It shouldn't be an issue.

She still rebels at the thought. Saying please, to Adora, sitting so smug and self-assured on top of her?

"Forget it," she chokes out, squirming away, arm tightening further around her stomach and shoving down to block Adora's path. It's bad enough that Adora has access to what she does, and that the tickling's made her so over-sensitive that even the twitch of her own arm is unbearable against the grass. She doesn't need to go letting Adora's hands claim any more territory than they've already won.

Adora lets out a little harrumph, as if she truly expected Catra to yield. Catra's never done anything without a fight. and in this moment, at least, Adora's perfectly content with that. She loves her flushed face, her bitten-back giggles -- how hard she's trying, and how hard she's failing, to keep it together throughout all this.

And her hand's upward path may be blocked, but Adora still has free rein to roam across her favorite stretch of fur, right between Catra's lower stomach and hipbone. She can feel her heart pound with exhilaration as her fingers curl and tease, and she leans down, cooing sweetly: "Are you suuure?"

Adora bends her neck, lower, closer, until her lips are mere inches from Catra's ear. "You only need to say it once, Catra."

And she blows a puff of warm air right into it, for good measure.

Catra has been so good at keeping her claws to herself during all of this, which seems to have been a mistake. Maybe if she'd scratched Adora up a bit, she would have remembered to stay out of biting range.

Normally Catra enjoys Adora's fingers on that part of her body, but the usually favourable sensation is now unbearable, and her hip tries to dart back; only succeeding in her wriggling her back against the ground with a sharp, laugh-tinged gasp. Her ear flickers wildly as Adora speaks near it, even the closeness of her voice enough to make it feel tickled for literally no reason, and then Adora gives it one when that puff of air glances off of it.

The noise that leaves Catra's mouth is not dignified, something like a catch of her breath that hooks on a giggle and somehow then just turns into a weird squeaky whine; but surely Adora won't be remembering much of it anyway, since Catra's reaction - unthinking, instinctual, old habit - is to dart up the small distance, all of the tickling and stimulation too overwhelming, to bite her in a quick and decisive snap of teeth.

Adora's instincts kick in just in time for her to block Catra's lunge with her forearm-- which only succeeds in getting those fangs sunk there instead of her shoulder.

"Gah!"

She closes her eyes against the burst of pain, grits her teeth, then exhales slowly as the initial sting subsides. The attack's achieved its purpose; her hands on Catra have stilled, and Adora holds her unbitten one up too, in a sign of resignation.

"Okay, okay, I earned that one," Adora's smile curls lopsided with the admission, cheeks flushed with self-conscious and leftover adrenaline. She slides her weight off Catra, now offering that raised hand for her to take as she straightens. "Sorry. You okay?"

She's never been so relieved for Adora to stop touching her. Catra's chest heaves as she sucks in a lungful of air, shoulders still shaking with the titter of a laugh as she exhales and curls up in response to the proffered hand. She can not look at Adora's fingers right now without some part of her spasming with leftover tickles.

Adora did deserve the bite, as unconsidered an action as it was, and despite the fatigue setting in Catra's tail lashes against the ground as she looks up to Adora with bright eyes.

As a cadet, she probably would have jumped up from this position to tackle her. But with age comes wisdom and better technique, so she presses her weight up onto an elbow, making as if to rise; and instead Catra swings her legs around to sweep Adora's from under her, using the momentum of the movement to quickly push herself up and onto her.

The end result? A familiar position, Catra's knees jammed into Adora's hip and thigh, both of her hands pushing her shoulders into the ground as her tail waves high and playful behind her.

"Oh, Adora. I'm fine." Even though her voice is rasping and breathy, even though she hasn't fixed her shirt of the mussed fur of her belly. Or, for that matter, any of the dishevelment that comes from wriggling around on the ground. Her hands knead into Adora's shoulders, the press of claws a natural reminder to not try any funny business, and Catra takes her voice's natural inclination to rasp to drop it into a purr as she leans forward, secure in her victory. "You should really be more worried about yourself."

Edited 2020-06-29 14:43 (UTC)

Adora goes down with a yelp, back thudding against the ground. "Catra," she groans, leveling her with a hard glare -- but Catra meets it with that glint to her eye that always makes Adora's stomach flutter, and any further protests die on her tongue. Her body sinks into the grass, yielding.

Adora swallows, then licks her lips-- her mouth is dry but her throat is wet, and a warmth spreads steadily up from her neckline as she takes the sight of Catra in. She's sure the vengeance she's about to set upon her will be nothing short of diabolical, and she'll be begging forgiveness before long. Truly, Adora's in no position to be mooning over her girlfriend right now. But that doesn't change the fact Catra's pretty, breathing ragged, face flushed. Or that her shirt's still riding up, drawing Adora's eyes like a magnet. Or--

Adora's look of silent awe crumbles with a sudden giggle-snort, and the electricity in the air cuts short.

"Sorry, it's just-- you've got leaves in your fur-- let me get that for you." She reaches with one hand, to pluck swiftly at Catra's arm before patting down the bared corner of her stomach. All that rolling in the grass had gotten all sorts of nature-dirt stuck to her, and we can't have that. Just give her a moment...

"Okay, you're good," she announces after a moment, smoothing down the hem of Catra's shirt. "Go on."

What is it that makes people like Adora and Scorpia treat Catra like this? Her ears flatten, and her tail settles down into a dissatisfied flick as Adora fixes her up. She still shifts away from the touch to her stomach with a baring of her teeth, the fur rising up again immediately under Adora's hand in warning, but otherwise lets her go ahead. There's no stopping these people when they're like this, much to Catra's chagrin.

She's in full sulk mode by the time Adora finishes and gives her permission to continue, and Catra's unimpressed scowl slants sideways as she purses her lips. She liked it a lot better a few moments ago, when Adora was red-faced and groaning, her body soft and pliant.

"I almost took out the Rebellion," she feels the need to point out somewhat petulantly, pride bruised. In case Adora's forgotten. Because she's sure not taking her seriously, and Catra's sitting back on her haunches, still perched atop Adora's legs but folding her arms. "I wiped the floor with you like, a million times."

Edited 2020-06-29 15:54 (UTC)

"Yes, you did! You're very intimidating, Catra." Adora reassuringly pats the most easily accessible of Catra, which in their current position happens to be her knee. She really wishes she hadn't pulled back, aches for Catra's warmth against her stomach and chest already. But it's going to take a deliberate effort to stop teasing her when she's so adorably grouchy.

"... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin it," Adora offers after a beat, this time sincere. Her purple-tinted lip sticks out in a pout as she lays both arms down on the grass, wrists crossed above her head. Her back arches subtly, pushing her chest out just so; offering herself up, malleable and willing.

"Have your way with me, please?"

Somehow that reassuring pat is anything but, and Catra's ears drop further. Even the usually enticing curve of Adora's back reads as an insult, the submissive cross of her wrists too confident to actually be so. And then her words cement it; Adora is teasing her, obviously.

Catra is not gentle at all about the placement of her weight on her knees or feet as she stands on Adora's legs, hopping off from her with a disgruntled noise. She does not offer Adora a hand up, nor does she keep within reach; instead padding over the small distance to her abandoned bread, picking it up and tossing it at Adora with a grumpy backwards glance. Take your stupid win, she didn't want it anyway.

Edited 2020-06-29 16:18 (UTC)

Adora's face falls as Catra lifts clean off her, and even the offering of bread isn't enough to pick her spirits up. She sets it aside for now, crawling after her sullen girlfriend on her hands and knees. "Catraaaa."

"I really meant it! Why are you mad? Am I that bad at being seductive?" She wraps her arms around Catra's leg to anchor her in place, pleading up at her with big, rueful eyes. "Don't be mad at me."

Catra's tail bushes right next to Adora when she feels the unexpected touch of her leg, and she looks down sharply only to see Adora there, wide-eyed and simpering. Catra wishes she was still a bad enough friend to kick her.

Instead she sighs, annoyed and ragged, and flicks her tail right into Adora's face.

"Ugh. Get up, you idiot." Her palm is gentle but firm when she presses it onto Adora's forehead, pushing her pointedly back from her leg. It's harder than it's worth to be angry with her for long. "Let's just go for that stupid walk you were talking about."

Edited 2020-06-29 16:54 (UTC)

The tickle of fur over her nose makes Adora's face twist up, stuck halfway to a sneeze. She sniffs, rubs at her face-- and immediately brightens at the sound of Catra's words.

"Yes! You're gonna love it, I swear." She jumps to her feet, mood fully restored, and scrambles for her backpack. She rummages through it, producing the map and unfurling it in front of her. "It's just a bit of a walk, we'll be there in no time. Oh, but before I forget--"

And she goes back for Catra's offered bread, splitting it down the middle and extending one arm with a smile. "Halfsies?"

She's rolling her eyes at Adora's enthusiasm, and at the map (--how far is it that basic directions won't do?), but Adora's cheer does wonders for settling the bruised edges of Catra's ego. She'll probably find herself struggling to hold on to her sulk by the time they make it even halfway to Adora's intended destination.

...Or, alternatively. She can find it dissipating in surprise when Adora turns around and offers her a torn half of bread, that beautiful and awkward smile directed at her in full. Catra could swear her heart stutters, as she glances from Adora's face to her hand, and belatedly she realizes there's a warmth already on her cheeks to accompany the fuzzy feeling in her body.

She's gotten better about this, which is why she doesn't snatch the bread. Instead she takes it normally, turning her face away to bite into it silently. Adora's always so damn -- nice. And making Catra feel so special, again, simply by just... looking at her, and sharing.

Is it any wonder she'd gotten so jealous at the thought that Adora would treat every friend of hers this way?

Catra doesn't like to walk while she eats, and she knows Adora will wait for her, so she's content to chew in silence. Gives her time to settle into the abrupt adjustment of her mood, anyway, as she holds her hand flat-palmed for Melog to shimmer back into visibility under. They've still got the stolen bit of bread in their mouth, their eyes curved happily as they rumble. Catra's not doing anything about her feelings, so Melog takes it upon themselves to; padding over to Adora to rub against her legs affectionately, shrinking in size to twine around her, praising her in echoing mews that have Catra's ears flicking in embarrassment. She really just. Can't take Melog anywhere.

"Shut up." Both of them. Both of them can shut up, but Melog especially.

Edited 2020-06-30 04:44 (UTC)

Adora giggles, light and airy, as Melog winds between her legs. She reaches down to stroke along their back, endeared enough to even forgive their role in the bread-thievery. The embarrassment that colors Catra's cheeks at the display of affection only serves to make it cuter.

"I mean, I wasn't saying anything," she answers with a snort, offering Melog a loving little stroke behind one ear.

"Think you can watch the camp for us, Melog? Thank you! We'll be back before you know it."

And, downing the last mouthful of bread, she joins Catra's side and takes her hand in her own. "Ready to go?"

Melog butts into Adora's hand without shame, making noises of confidence and assurance. They are a great watcher and defender, and they'll keep everyone else away from the camp with their illusions and magic just the same as they do every night.

"Don't go overboard," Catra warns them. Both because of Melog's enthusiastic press into Adora's hand, which is at this point just insulting, and because Melog's illusions don't discriminate between friend and foe. They really do not need the stress of navigating a seemingly hostile environment right before they try to sleep.

Melog trills in acknowledgement as they follow with Adora to Catra's side, and she lets her fingers link with Adora's as she chews the remainder of her bread, raising her free hand again to press against Melog's head in farewell. She doesn't pet them the same way Adora does, but Melog nudges into her palm anyway, rumbling warmly. They understand each-other, they don't need anything more than that.

She does make Adora wait, because Adora is a jerk, while Catra takes her time chewing. She eventually swallows, licking her lips to wipe away the remainder of crumbs and nodding, nudging her shoulder into Adora's. Catra's tired, and sore after all of that squirming, but Adora's been so excited about this that she teases instead of complaining. "We don't seriously need a map for this, do we? I thought you said it wasn't that far."

"It's not! It's just a bit off the beaten path. Better safe than sorry, right?"

--Is what she says, all cheery reassurance. But as she leads Catra down the map's indicated path, it quickly turns out there was some mild sugarcoating involved. Yes, Adora may have neglected to mention they'd have to push their way through some really spiky bushes. Or just how much of this path would be uphill. Or ohmygod that's a big bug--

"-- I'll get it, I'll get it!" Adora exclaims, grabbing for her sword and stabbing the screeching six-eyed beetle clean through. Its body twitches one final time, impaled against the tree. "Got it."

Retrieving the sword, she shakes it clean of bug juice before re-equipping it as a brace. "Okay!" she exhales, spirits undampened. "Just a little more."

"Riiight." Catra's drawl of agreement is skeptical. She has some regrets about this, and lets Adora battle through each set of spiked foliage before slicing through it all unapologetically with her claws to follow, stepping carefully to avoid hurting her feet. She really should have put on some shoes for this, but in her defense? She hadn't known that the forest was this wild.

Adora clearly wasn't expecting it either, given how quick she is to attack the bug whose dying screeches have Catra flinching back and bristling.

"'Let's go for a walk, Catra'," she mocks as she grabs her tail roughly, forcibly smoothing the fur back down. It's obvious that Adora's getting stressed about how Not To Plan this is, but that doesn't stop Catra from grousing now. "'You'll totally love it! There'll be tonnes of gross bugs and plants to annoy you!'"

She feels something squelch under her foot, and Catra freezes as her expression twists in disgust. Definitely should have gone with the shoes.

"Why'd you have to bring back all the weird stuff?" She complains, voice pitching up into a petulant whine. She's just gonna. Grab her ankle and pull her foot up to inspect it, and then drop it again to scrape the gross pink-purple goop off on the ground with a groan of frustration. Maybe it wasn't even Adora's magic that restored these things, maybe they were here all along. Catra's going to blame her anyway.

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