The Threat Of A Rubber Band 😖

..may this joke land with y’all the same way it did for my sister and I lol

please write the zoo au 🙇

if you’re looking for something to blame for this, here’s the culprit

“…cockroaches.”

“Yes.”

Kara squints. “Like, the creepy-crawly little bugs we freeze in the thousands to feed to the animals.”

“The very same.”

“And you want me to… name them?”

Cat sighs so heavily that had she been standing, she probably would have fallen over. “You’re not naming them, Keira. Do try to keep up. Patrons can pay $5 to name a cockroach after their ex. You will then feed these named cockroaches to the animals. For $25 people can also name a frozen rat.”

Kara gapes. “So I’m feeding animals named after people to other animals?”

“If you think that displaying the comprehension skills of an elementary schooler is going to impress me, you’re sorely mistaken,” Cat says dryly, her tone bored as she shuffles the stacks of papers on her desk. “Thank you for reminding me that I didn’t hire you for your intellect.”

Kara ignores the dig. She’s had plenty of practice over the past five years. “But doesn’t that seem a little…. mean?”

“You’re worried about the feelings of a frozen dead cockroach?”

Kara huffs, digging her hands deep into the pockets of her green NC Zoo fleece. “Not the bugs. The people the bugs are named after. The people watching themselves in bug form be fed to a lizard, or whatever.”

Cat hums, tapping her pen thoughtfully against her chin. “I suppose we’d also better appeal to the bleeding-heart animal lovers out there if we want to maximise sales. We’ll introduce a vegetarian option as well: $5 to name a cabbage after your ex to be fed to our herbivores. I’ll let Olsen know.”

“But—”

“Keira.” Cat’s voice clicks into its most chilling no-bullshit tone and Kara winces, fighting the urge to cower at her boss’ feet. “This programme will almost singlehandedly fund the renovation of our giant panda enclosure. Do you not want the pandas to have water to swim in and bamboo to nibble on, Ms Danvers? Do you want them to go extinct?”

Kara blanches. Everybody knows the pandas are her favourites. “No, of course not, I just—”

“Good,” Cat snaps. “National City Zoo’s Cry Me a Cockroach event will be going ahead from tomorrow, and I will expect your full support every step of the way.”

Kara sighs. “Sure thing, boss.”

“Oh, and Keira,” Cat calls as Kara’s halfway out of her office. “You’re going to be the public face of this event. All the naming and feeding will be broadcast across our social media livestreams. Winslow in tech support will help you get everything set up.”

“Me?” Kara gapes. “Why?”

Cat quirks an appraising eyebrow, making no secret of the fact that she’s giving Kara a discerning once-over. “You fit the image that will draw in viewers,” she drawls, eyeing the planes of Kara’s shoulders, the lines of her thighs beneath her standard-issue cargo pants. “Can’t say that I see it myself, but I suppose you do have a certain… appeal.”

Kara feels her cheeks turn an immediate shade of scarlet, shuffling her feet awkwardly. “I, um. Thanks?”

“That wasn’t a compliment,” Cat says smoothly, eyes never leaving her laptop screen. “Go away now. And do a good job on this, Keira. We really need the extra income.”

“Yes, boss.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Cat calls. “Wear something form-fitting tomorrow. This is basically a PR stunt— it won’t hurt to give the people a show.”

-

“So, we’ve got all the purchase summaries right here on this tablet,” Winn says, fiddling with the inordinate number of screens and cameras currently pointing right at Kara. “So we’ll get a shot of the rat or roach, then you read out the name of the person who made the purchase, and the name they’ve given to their animal. Maybe the background story, if they’ve submitted one. Then feed the poor bastard to the— the—”

“The snake?” Kara supplies cheerily, stroking the head of the Jamaican yellow boa constrictor currently draped over her shoulders.

Winn shudders, fighting down his gag reflex. “I will never understand how you can touch that thing.”

“You work at a zoo, Winn,” she chides. “How can you be scared of snakes? Noodle is a creature that needs our love and care, just like all the others.”

“Noodle?” Winn squeaks. “You named a snake that probably weighs more than you do Noodle?”

“Only unofficially,” Kara sighs. “Cat says I have to stop getting so attached to the animals.”

Winn gapes at her. “You know what, we don’t have time to unpack that right now.” He adjusts the lighting outside the enclosure, turning Kara this way and that until he finds the perfect angle. “So the main thing is to keep things fun and engaging. We’re aiming for numbers here. If this doesn’t go viral, Cat will have my nuts on a silver platter.”

“You’re so crass,” Kara scolds. “He’s so crass,” she murmurs to the snake wrapped around her abdomen, stroking its head again. Noodle flicks his tongue out in response, tasting the air. Kara takes it as an agreement.

“Oh, and if part of the summary is shaded red, it’s because the purchaser asked for the information to remain confidential,” Winn continues, adjusting camera angles and making sure the Facebook, Instagram and Twitter livestreams are up and running. “So don’t read that bit.”

“Red means no,” Kara salutes. “Gotcha.”

“Alright, ready?” Winn asks, and Kara sucks in a deep breath. At least Noodle doesn’t care that her palms are sweating. “We’re live.”

“Hey, hi. I’m Kara Danvers, head zookeeper here at National City Zoo,” Kara starts, eyes flicking rapidly between the three cameras trained on her. Where is she supposed to look? If she looks at one feed for too long, will the others feel neglected? Will viewers tune out? Does she have to keep glancing between the three of them like she’s watching a three-way tennis match? What if—

Behind the camera, Winn clears his throat. “Chill,” he mouths silently from the far side of the intimidating assortment of screens, and Kara forces herself to heed his advice.

“Welcome to Cry Me a Cockroach,” she continues, voice steadying as she manages to get her rapid breathing under control. “Thank you so much to everyone who’s purchased a rat or a cockroach so far— all your donations will go toward the renovation of our giant panda enclosure! For anyone who hasn’t gotten around to their vermin vengeance yet, the event will be running through the end of the month.”

She reaches up to adjust Noodle so he’s slung more comfortably over her shoulders and then grabs the first container of frozen rats. “Alright, well. This guy’s hungry, so we’d better get started before he decides to eat me!” She winks at the camera, laughing when Noodle’s forked tongue darts out to flicker against her cheek.

“I’m just joking. Jamaican yellow boas like Noodle only eat small prey like birds, bats, or today, rats!” she grins, running a hand over the snake’s sleek body. “But maybe he’ll make an exception just this once for our tech guy, Winn.”

She steps closer to the camera and extends an arm, Noodle poking his head towards Winn in interest. Winn shrieks at the snake’s approach, tripping over wires and plugs as he scrambles backwards, landing flat on his ass on the ground.

Kara grins, drawing the snake closer to her body again and extending her hand. “High five,” she grins at the snake, and Noodle flicks his tongue against her palm. “Operation Scare-The-Cameraman, Day One: complete.”

She reaches one gloved hand into the bucket to pull out a frozen rat as she scans the tablet in front of her. “Okay, so. This rat, named Dave, was purchased by Kerry in Thousand Oaks, who also included this message.”

She skims the purchase summary before holding the rat out to Noodle, who unlatches his jaw to swallow it whole. Kara stares into the camera, one eyebrow quirking. “That’s what you get for cheating, Dave.”

-

They move through most of the reptile house, Winn filming as Kara names and then proceeds to feed a bucketful of cockroaches to the zoo’s scaly inhabitants.

The longer it goes on, the more at ease Kara starts to feel, laughing and cracking jokes for the camera as she reads people’s messages to their ex with growing glee.

“Shouldn’t have forgotten to pick the kids up from school, Dan,” she sing-songs, dropping a frozen rat into the enclosure of Slinky the African rock python.

“Rachel from Gotham City, you told Dylan that is wasn’t him, it was you. Well, he wants you to know that this cockroach is definitely you,” she says with a rueful smile as the creature in question is plucked from her glove by a panther chameleon.

“Lucia hopes your new woman is ready for a lifetime of your snoring, Mason from Laguna Beach,” she says as she dumps a handful of cockroaches into the bearded dragon’s enclosure to be swallowed with great enthusiasm.

They make it to one of Kara’s favourite inhabitants, Godzilla the tiny leopard gecko. She lets the little fellow climb up onto one hand as she scans the tablet. “Alright, last one for today, folks,” she grins, grabbing one more bug for Godzilla’s dinner. “This is from Lena in Metropolis, who has named her cockroach Andrea. So Andrea, this is for—”

Kara cuts herself off as her brain registers the red shading over the message section. “Never mind, the message for this one is private,” she murmurs absentmindedly, eyes still stuck on the purchase summary. Her gaze catches on words like lies and betrayal and deception and ten years and she can feel her brow scrunching as her eyes narrow.

She looks back up at the camera, one fist clenching as she ignores Winn’s questioning look to clear her throat. “Alright, Lena’s message is confidential but let me just say: Andrea, if you’re watching, you’re lucky that all you’re getting is a cockroach with your name on it after the stunt you pulled. Lena, whoever you are, you’re a better person than I would be in your shoes.”

And with a gleeful smile and far too much gusto, probably, she extends the dead bug to the gecko perched on her palm. “Enjoy this one, Godzilla,” she coos at the tiny lizard. “Really savour it.”

He does, swallowing the bug in one smooth gulp, and Kara runs an affectionate finger over his head. “Hope you felt that, Andrea,” she mutters, too low for the cameras to pick it up. Probably. Hopefully.

She perches Godzilla back on his favourite rock and turns back to the cameras with a smile. Rounds out the livestream and repeats the details for people to purchase their own cockroaches ahead of the next day’s broadcast, high fives Winn once the cameras stop rolling, and chalks the whole thing up to a good – if weird – day’s work.

-

The livestream is a hit, and Cry Me a Cockroach sales rocket overnight.

Cat even graces her with a grudging well done as she heads to the aviary for the day’s filming and feeding. She and Winn repeat the same setup at the day before, moving around the enclosures to feed bugs and rodents to the assortment of birds housed within, Kara smiling and laughing and joking the whole way.

But as they come to the end of the broadcast something’s still niggling at the back of Kara’s mind and Winn’s about to shut off the cameras when Kara reaches out a hand to stop him.

“Um, before we go,” she starts, ignoring Winn’s what the hell look even as her cheeks flush crimson, “there’s just one more cockroach to be crunched. If you were watching yesterday, you might remember that Lena from Metropolis bought a cockroach named Andrea. Lena didn’t want everyone to know the terrible thing Andrea did to her but personally, I think it was bad enough that we could maybe do one more bug-feed. On the house,” she winks at the camera, reaching into the bucket at her feet.

She scoops up a container of frozen bugs, tilting them towards the camera. “Lena, I hope you’re watching, because every single one of these guys is named Andrea,” she grins, tossing the scoop into the enclosure of Tim McCaw, the zoo’s giant hyacinth parrot, where it is immediately devoured.

Winn ends the stream just as Kara’s phone rings in her back pocket; the Jaws ringtone that indicates her boss is calling. She answers with a wince, bracing for Cat’s inevitable reprimand for going off-book and dishing out her own vermin vengeance, but it doesn’t come.

Cat just informs her that cockroach sales have spiked again, and to keep up the adequate work. She also tells Kara to strip down to her tank top in the next stream, and not to be shy about lifting some of their heaviest snakes in front of the camera.

Kara doesn’t ask for the reasoning behind that specific instruction. Based on the way Winn had snickered into his hands for a solid three minutes upon overhearing it, she doesn’t really want to know.

-

It becomes something of a routine.

Every day, she and Winn move through the different enclosures, feeding cockroaches and rats and the occasional cabbage to the zoo’s inhabitants. Kara reads out the names and the stories – some of them funny, some of them sad, and some just plain weird – and tosses the meals to the waiting animals to be enthusiastically enjoyed.

And right at the end of each stream, Kara plucks out one extra cockroach, names it Andrea, and drops it into the waiting jaws of whichever animal seems hungriest that day.

Maybe she’s a little too invested in this Lena person. Winn certainly tells her so at least eighteen times a day. Alex and Kelly have picked up on it too; they both watch Kara’s livestream from work and take turns sending her a barrage of texts the moment it ends, ranging from gentle teasing (Kelly) to downright harassment (Alex).

Kara doesn’t mind. Something about Lena’s message, the way she’d described how she’d been betrayed by the person she’d trusted the most, had struck a chord deep in Kara. Lena had sounded so hurt, so alone, and yet the only revenge she wanted to take on the woman who broke her heart was to name a $5 cockroach after her.

She doesn’t know if Lena watches the livestreams. But it makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside to think that maybe, Lena has seen it, that she knows that there’s someone out there on her side. Even if that someone is just some random zookeeper on a Facebook live.

The streams, much to Cat’s delight and Winn’s relief, have gone viral. The day after Kara lifts the zoo’s seventy pound green anaconda above her head live on camera to demonstrate its enormous size – wearing the tank top Cat had not so subtly suggested – a clip of their broadcast is shown on national news. Sales skyrocket, with so many people trying to participate in the event that their website crashes. They’ve already raised enough money to cover the renovations of the panda’s enclosure so Cat spreads out the extra profits, investing in higher quality feed for the animals and a series of webcams that livestream footage of their most popular residents 24/7.

The zoo’s profile is rising, and more big donors and investors are expressing interest in the research and conservation work they’re doing. Cat harnesses their surge in popularity, launching new protection projects for snow leopards, rhinos, and pangolins.

Everything is going according to plan – better than planned – and Kara couldn’t be happier. Protecting the planet’s incredible wildlife was all she’d ever wanted to do, and if naming some cockroaches and wearing a few tank tops can help her achieve that dream, it’s a sacrifice she’s willing to make.

She does draw the line, though, at being dubbed Cockroach Kara by internet lurkers.

Winn is extremely unhelpful, collapsing into hysterical laughter the first time he shows her her new moniker and producing no useful suggestions as to how to make it stop. The problem resolves itself, however, after Winn videos Kara hefting two enormous fallen logs in the elephant rehabilitation enclosure onto her shoulders a few days later to move them to a safer location.

The next day, #DaddyDanvers is trending nationwide. Alex laughs herself clean off the couch when she sees it, and Kara blushes so long and so hard she’s not sure she’ll ever recover.

-

The month is drawing to a close, and Kara has to admit she’s going to miss their daily livestreams. Her audience has grown exponentially since the first broadcast and many people are now genuinely invested in the wellbeing of the animals, asking for updates on specific zoo residents and sponsoring conservation efforts for the most endangered creatures.

Kara decides to end the event on a crowd pleaser, and she and Winn make their way to the koala enclosure for the final stream. Sitting cross legged on the grass with a sleepy koala in her lap, Kara tugs the bucket of eucalyptus leaves closer to her side as the stream gets going.

“I know it’s very satisfying to name a cockroach after your ex,” she grins at the camera, “but as this is our last broadcast I thought we’d end on a more upbeat note. For all of you who’ve purchased a bug today, I’ll be feeding one eucalyptus leaf to our resident koalas here at National City Zoo. We’ve got three babies in here who are growing and hungry, so let’s turn the upset and bitterness caused by everyone who’s done you dirty into something good instead. Help something new grow out of the pain of the past.”

She feeds leaf after leaf to the cuddly little creatures, beaming as the entire family gradually make their way over to investigate her. Names each leaf and reads out each story, laughing as the baby koalas climb up her arms to cling to her back and shoulders, playing with her ponytail.

“And, in keeping with tradition,” she smiles, a koala on each shoulder and three in her lap, “I’m naming this final leaf Andrea.” She holds it out to the youngest of the bunch who grabs it eagerly, clasping the leaf between its tiny paws as it chews. Kara grins, glancing directly into the camera. “This one’s for you, Lena from Metropolis.”

She wraps up the stream with a heartfelt thank you to everyone who’d contributed money to the cause, beginning the gentle process of extricating herself from her clinging koalas as Winn packs up the camera equipment for the last time. He heads off, muttering something about giving Cat a debrief as Kara bends to collect her bucket and check the water levels, one baby koala still cradled in the crook of her arm.

She’s so absorbed in her examination of the control panel, checking light and humidity settings in the enclosure, that a throat gently clearing behind her makes her jump.

She spins to see a woman standing nervously by the door of enclosure, twisting her clasped fingers together in front of her. She’s elegantly dressed, with long dark curls and perfect porcelain skin, full lips and sparkling green eyes. She is, in short, the most beautiful woman Kara has ever seen in her entire life, and she promptly forgets how to breathe.

“Can I, um, help you?” she manages at last, cheeks flushed and voice cracking.

The woman presses her lips together, and Kara curses her own abject lack of subtlety as she tries (and fails) to pull her gaze away from the woman’s mouth. “I hope so,” the stranger says, and her voice is soft and lilting and lovely and Kara instantly becomes addicted to hearing it again. “You must be Kara Danvers. I’m— I’m Lena. From Metropolis.”

Kara’s mouth falls open, and she very nearly drops the poor unsuspecting koala in her arms out of pure shock. Blinks back into a semblance of self-awareness and places the cuddly creature carefully on a nearby branch so she can make her way over to the enclosure’s door, smoothing a hand self-consciously over her koala-mussed hair.

“Um, hi,” she breathes once she’s joined Lena on the other side of the glass. “Gosh. Hi. So you’re— you’re Lena. Like, Lena-and-Andrea Lena.”

The woman – Lena – smiles ruefully. “Well. Without the Andrea part, now. As I’m sure you will have read in my purchase summary.”

Kara barely represses the urge to smack herself resoundingly on the forehead. “God, right. Yes. Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she stutters. “That was so dumb. I just— I can’t believe it’s you.” She reaches a hand up to tug awkwardly on her ear, emphatically unable to stop more and more words falling out of her big stupid mouth. “I can’t believe Andrea did that to you. I mean—” she whistles under her breath, giving Lena an appreciative once over. “Look at you.”

Lena’s cheeks flush the prettiest shade of pink, teeth digging into the plush of her bottom lip. “Oh. Um. Thank you?”

“Oh Jesus, I didn’t— I’m sorry,” Kara stammers. “Okay. Let me start this again. Hi.” She extends a hand, sucking in a sharp breath at the feeling of soft skin beneath her own when Lena shakes it. “I’m Kara. It’s so great to meet you.”

Lena smiles, and Kara’s never really thought much about the word radiant before but that’s what the woman before her is. Lena blossoms when she smiles, and she’s so beautiful it takes Kara’s breath away.

She squeezes Kara’s hand once before letting go. “It’s great to meet you, too.”

-

The zoo’s opening hours come to an end but, Kara realises, her time with Lena doesn’t have to. Perks of being the head zookeeper and all.

She tentatively invites the dark-haired woman to stick around, takes her on a tour of the different animals and points out all her favourites. Lena is, like, crazy smart, in addition to being crazy beautiful, and she produces odd little facts about some of the zoo’s rarer inhabitants that even Kara hadn’t known.

Kara learns that Lena had just moved to the area from Metropolis after the Andrea incident, which she has to repeatedly remind herself not to bring up. She learns that Lena has a PhD, and that she’s the youngest head of R&D ever at her brother’s company. She learns that Lena had watched every single one of her livestreams, right from the first day, and had finally been convinced by her best friend to come and meet Kara in person.

She learns that Lena is gorgeous, and devastatingly funny in an understated kind of way, and smart and kind and generous and self-effacing. She learns that everything she learns about Lena only makes her want to know more.

They end up at the giant panda enclosure and Kara sneaks a look around before unlocking the door, ushering Lena inside. She leads the dark-haired woman to a dry patch of grass near where the babies are sleeping with their mothers and gestures for her to sit, realising belatedly that Lena’s suit probably costs more than Kara makes in a year and that she probably doesn’t want to muddy it up in a mess of twigs and leaves.

But Lena doesn’t even hesitate, taking a seat facing Kara and pulling her legs in close to her body. Her eyes keep darting to the pile of pandas behind them and Kara grins. “If we just sit here, they’ll come and investigate us,” she smiles, and Lena looks so excited that Kara’s breath catches in her chest.

They chat about Kara’s job, the zoo’s conservation work, Lena’s move out west and her latest projects at Luthor Corp. Sure enough, within minutes the most brave and inquisitive of the baby pandas has perked up from its nap, ambling over to give them a curious sniff.

Kara’s heart clenches so hard in her chest at the way Lena’s entire face lights up when one of the bears flops into her lap that she legitimately fears she may have gone into cardiac arrest. But if this is how she dies, so be it; watching the untempered joy in her expression as Lena holds a tiny panda in her arms, staying quiet and still as the baby paws and prods inquisitively at her face and hair, would not be a bad final image.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Lena murmurs after a while. “For what you did on the livestream every day. For your discretion, but also— your support.”

She takes a deep breath, gaze focused on the cuddly ball of fluff in her arms. “When Andrea and I ended, it tore me apart, and no one in my daily life knew what had happened. You can imagine why I wanted to keep the details private,” she smiles grimly, and Kara nods. “I felt so isolated. But seeing your videos, seeing you every day— it made me feel that little bit less alone.”

Lena blushes, ducking her head. “I’m sorry, I know that probably sounds ridiculous. I don’t— I didn’t even know you.” An errant curl falls forward into her face, and the baby panda in her arms immediately begins chewing on it.

Kara scoots forward on her knees, pulling the lock of dark hair gently from the baby’s grip and tucking it carefully behind Lena’s ear. “It’s not ridiculous,” she whispers as Lena raises her head again, suddenly aware that their faces are now only inches apart.

“I’m, I’m really glad I could do that for you. I’m really, really glad I got to meet you, Lena. And for the record,” she pauses to swallow hard, drowning in the intensity of Lena’s eyes. “Andrea is the biggest idiot on the planet to have ever let you go.”

Lena’s breath catches in her throat, and Kara doesn’t miss the way green eyes flicker down to her mouth for a moment, Lena’s tongue darting out to wet her own lips. It makes Kara feel bold, and before she can think too hard or second-guess herself she’s leaning forward, sliding a hand up to thread through soft dark hair and pressing her lips to Lena’s.

It’s light, brief, just the gentlest press of mouths, but it shoots a white hot bolt of fire from the crown of Kara’s head to the very tips of her toes. Her whole body is tingling as she pulls back, heart pounding.

“God, sorry,” she gasps, eyes widening as the reality of the boundary she’s just blown past comes slamming in. “Oh, fu— I’m so sorry, Lena, I don’t know what I was—”

“Kara,” Lena whispers, gently depositing her baby panda on the grass to push up on her knees as well. “Do it again.”

Well. She doesn’t need to be told that twice.

She surges forward again but Lena’s already there to meet her, mouths slanting together like they’d been doing it for years. Kara’s tongue darts out to trace the seam of Lena’s bottom lip and the dark-haired woman’s mouth falls open with a tiny gasp that hits Kara low in her hips. The first touch of Lena’s tongue against hers is bright, jagged and electric, and Kara tightens one hand in Lena’s hair as the other slides round her waist to anchor their bodies together, Lena’s own hands fisting in the collar of Kara’s green fleece.

Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours later that they finally break apart, gasping for air. Kara doesn’t particularly care. She takes in Lena’s heaving chest, her kiss-swollen lips and rose-tinted cheeks, and wonders how the hell a bucketful of dead cockroaches could ever have led her to something as beautiful as this.

“Oh,” Lena gasps, voice light and breathy. “Oh, wow. Maybe I should visit zoos more often.”

“As long as it’s this one, I’m on board with that,” Kara chuckles, tracing her thumb feather-light over Lena’s lower lip and trying (and failing) to restrain a shiver at the way Lena’s nails scratch lightly at the nape of her neck.

“So, um,” Lena murmurs, biting her lip, and it’s taking every scrap of Kara’s willpower not to interrupt whatever she’s about to say and claim her mouth once again. “I feel like an all-access encounter with baby pandas is quite a tough first date to follow but, um. Would you like to maybe do this again sometime?”

Kara grins. She grins and grins and grins. She doesn’t think she could stop grinning if she tried. “I’d love to.”

The answering smile that breaks over Lena’s lovely face makes Kara’s heart do a backflip, and she’s just about to lean back in when the ominous sound of the Jaws theme tune starts up from the pocket of her fleece.

She pulls out her phone, stomach dropping when she sees the thirty new messages from Alex and Kelly and Winn, the hundreds of Facebook and Twitter notifications flooding her homescreen. With a pit of existential dread opening up in her chest, she answers the call.

“Cat,” she says, voice bright and just a little too high. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have to assume, since you were the one who lobbied for their installation, that you are aware of the three cameras livestreaming the giant panda enclosure at all times,” Cat drawls, voice bored and callous with the barest undertone of amusement. “Which leads me, naturally, to assume that your little after-hours rendezvous with billionaire tech mogul and philanthropist Lena Luthor was intended to be broadcast live to millions of viewers?”

Kara slaps a hand across her forehead, cheeks redder than a fire truck as she shoots an agonised glance in Lena’s direction. Lena shakes her head questioningly at her and Kara tugs the phone away from her ear to put the call on speaker.

“So, um. The whole world just saw that, huh?” she asks through a grimace. Lena’s eyes widen and she presses a delicate hand to her mouth to hold back a shocked giggle.

“They certainly did,” comes Cat’s disembodied voice. “And it’s doing wonders for our popularity. I already have three new investors interested in supporting our panda rehabilitation programme. You know, Keira, when I asked you to give the people a show, this is not exactly what I had in mind. But I must say—”

Her boss pauses for an interminably long moment and Kara holds her breath, wondering if she’s about to lose her job or get promoted.

“—I don’t hate it,” Cat finishes. “While you have her, perhaps you could ask Ms Luthor how she would feel about becoming an official patron of National City Zoo.”

“I would feel very good about it, Ms Grant,” Lena answers smoothly, serene and composed despite her kiss-tousled hair and smudged lipstick.

“Excellent,” Cat says resoundingly. “In that case, I’ll let you, ahem. Get back to it. My office at 9am for a staff meeting, Keira.”

“Of course,” Kara manages before hanging up, tossing her phone into the grass as she presses her palms to her flaming cheeks. “So, um. Our first kiss was just livestreamed to half the country.”

Lena presses her lips together to hold back a smirk. “It was.” She arches one eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Well, there’s no going back now. We can’t break the Internet’s heart. I suppose I’ll just have to stick around.”

Kara gives up any last semblance of self-restraint at that, pushing forward to wrap her arms around Lena’s waist and pull her back in for another bruising kiss. “Well, Lena from Metropolis. I sure hope you do.”

the first of many I love yous

Korrasami Week Day Five

Okay, I’m super late. Plus, I have a busy working weekend so... I’ll do my best. But I want to finish these prompts, because it’s been super fun so far!

I wanted to write a meet cute between tennis player Asami and Korra walking Naga in the park, but... I ended up writing this, simply because I’m rewatching book one of Korra. Hope you enjoy :)

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Prompt: au

Tarrlok waits for them at the end of the street, surrounded by a small group of soldiers. They are unnaturally still under the artificial lamplight, and Korra feels the urge to scratch her gray uniform. It''s the same they are wearing.

"Avatar Korra. Councilman Tenzin."

The urge to punch him rises violently. She settles for a nod instead.

"Councilman Tarrlok," Tenzin greets back and Korra imagines the clench of his jaw.

"Greetings," Tarrlok continues stiffly, "I apologize for requiring your presence this late in the day. I am aware of your wife's health, Tenzin, and I know how much you hate to depart from her when unnecessary."

Korra doesn't recognize the jab as one, but something in his sneer makes her prickle.

Tenzin folds his hands under his robes, the vibrant red of the air nomads humming in the night. "I have a duty to uphold to the citizens of Republic City," he says instead of answering directly.

Tarrlok breaks his posture to unfold his crossed hands. He tugs at the hem of his sleeve and a couple of men shift behind him. Korra's eyes divert to them, annoyed.

"Well? Are we going?" she snaps, mostly because she is quite horrible at standing still and waiting.

Tarrlok smiles a little, in a way that implies he's privy to the exact nature of the Avatar's thoughts, "Of course."

Korra turns and starts walking.

The guards arrange quickly in formation, a shield of human bodies built around them to separate and cover. They force a painfully slow pace that quickly grows insufferable.

After an unnoticeable number of turns and corners, Korra notices a purple streak of a non-bender band. It's a woman, kneeling on the ground with an half empty bowl of coins at her feet. One of Tarrlok's men kicks her, scattering her meager possession in the dirt.

Korra hides her fists and focuses on the fluttering of Tenzin's robe.

"Tarrlok," Tenzin motions at him but tilts his head in her direction, "What exactly is the nature of this... ambush?"

"I'd hardly call it an ambush," comes the airily reply, poorly camouflaged in the bubble of a chuckle, "More like a further assessment. A thorough evaluation."

It's nothing, Korra wishes to convey to Tenzin with the skip in her gait but the airbender keeps his gaze fixed in front of him.

"Is it really necessary? Mr. Sato is-"

"Mr. Sato is regularly detained at the station and is waiting to be tried in his cell right now, as dictated by our laws. Along with his fellow Equalists. Those non-benders," he spits the word like the foulest thing.

Korra shivers, thoughts swimming around the beggar woman.

"No," Tarrlok shakes his head, complacent smile scraping his features, "Our visit to the Sato residence concerns his daughter, Asami Sato."

Korra chokes on an angry huff. There's nothing she hates more than wasting time with practiced coquetry and luxurious cutlery.

"What about Miss Sato?" Tenzin's pitch lowers with curiosity. Korra wonders if Tarrlok can pick up the different inflection.

"She was summoned for her father's deposition at the central. She denied every involvement with him. She claimed she had no idea of his funding to the Equalist movement. And that he had been faking his bending all his life without her knowledge."

His cold scorn travels down through the cobblestones, "Living under the same roof, and she has no clue? Hardly believable. But Captain Beifong had the brilliant idea of letting her go right after the deposition. She said the girl passed that lying detection technique of her," he leans against an appeasing tone, "But you surely understand that I can't trust a judgment based on guesses and sensations. Especially when the safety of all citizens is involved."

Tenzin ruffles at the accusation, "Lin didn't become chief because of lucky guesses."

"Captain Beifong," Tenzin winces at the emphasized title, "Was a good chief. Probably one of the best. And she'll be dearly missed."

Korra's body jerks, "What do you mean?"

Tarrlok startles and the surprise on his face reeks of falseness, "Oh, nothing nefarious young Avatar. That was poor phrasing on my part. I apologize," he offers a dismissive gesture, "She presented her letter of resignation this morning. And her desk was empty by the end of the shift."

"Was it a voluntary gesture? Or did you force her hand, Tarrlok?"

Startled by her mentor's direct outburst, Korra feels the air turning tense with an unreleased tension.

"Mere semantics, Tenzin. You know better than most how important that is, especially in politics- Ah, here we are," he trails off to inspect the profile of the mansion unfurling from the cloak of darkness in front of them. Tarrlok crosses his arms and the group halts at the implicit command.

"What really matters here, Tenzin, isn't Lin Beifong. It's that her resignation came right after Miss Sato's interrogatory. That seems suspicious."

The formation of guards shatters as the cold gleam of Tarrlok's eyes reflects on the front gate.

+++

It's Asami Sato herself that greets them at the door. The absence of servants ruffles Korra's assuredness in a motion she can't comprehend. Nonetheless, Asami's lean figure withstands the rough profiles of Tarrlok's armed guards.

The marble of the foyer echoes under Korra's steps.

"Miss Sato," Tarrlok's voice diffuses, "I apologize for the intrusion. But we just have a few follow up questions for you."

"I'll lead you to my father's study, then. If you'd follow me."

The click of closing doors strikes like thunder.

Hiroshi's personal study is a mosaic of notebooks with torn pages and missing covers, a capsized sofa and decorated drawers emptied on the carpeted floor. A couple of guards linger in the hallway while the others pile in silently. When she counts them, Korra notices two more are missing, remained behind at the front gate.

"Don't mind the chaos, please," the heiress waves at the room, freeing a pinned lock from the top of her head, "I haven't found the time to clean yet. Otherwise, make yourself comfortable."

Tarrlok is the only one who picks up an upturned chair to sit. Korra remains standing beside Tenzin and when Asami circles back to her own seat, she has to drag one leg off the floor to move the chair.

"Then you don't mind if I let my men have another look? Just to be certain we had gained all intel the first time."

Asami's nod is so curt it might be a wince.

Korra feels words blurting from her mouth too late to stop them, "What about your servants? Can't they clean up the study?" she carefully avoids mentioning Hiroshi directly.

For the first time, the heiress green eyes pause on the Avatar, her gaze flickering up and down Korra almost casually. It's a moment before she gives her answer.

"Not many wishes to have the name of a criminal employer staining their resume. Especially one who faked his own bending for years."

A pool opens in Korra's stomach and she struggles to picture ornate dishes and perfected dance routines.

Tarrlok crosses his legs, lifting one foot, "And you?"

"Are you asking if I'm a criminal or a non-bender?" Asami's face is pale and drawn.

"Isn't it the same?" Tarrlok says and Korra watches him nod solemnly "Being a non-bender means having a tainted soul, since the gods didn't see fit of giving to those the natural gift of bending. If a soul is rejected by the flawless gods then how can they be accepted by the flailed society of mindless humans? An inner source of evil so great to be scorned by our deity..."

Korra hates the sound of those words, but no matter how much she wishes to spit, she's always forced to choke on them.

"The sins of a father aren't easily washed away."

Tarrlock's smiles dies on the ripple of his lips as he unfolds his legs.

A rueful smile dawns on the heiress, "Though I can assure you, I'm nor a criminal, nor a non-bender."

"We're here to determine that, Miss Sato," as Tarrlok's words cuts, a tearing sound pierces the air and Korra doesn't need to turn to see a guard slashing the cushions of the sofa.

Tenzin's hands remain hidden between the folds of his tunic, "Miss Sato," he speaks for the first time, "You already denied your affiliation with Hiroshi Sato to Chief Beifong. Do you still claim that to be true?"

Asami's eyes flickers to Korra for a brief moment, before turning back to meet Tenzin. She nods.

"Verbal confirmation is preferred, if you'd please," Tarrlok's voice loses tge dripping formality, the honeyed coat of false pleasantries fallen apart.

"Yes," Asami's timbre curls, "I had no idea of my father's involvement, nor about his nonexistent bending, even if him leaving Future Industries makes much more sense now. I never questioned his earthbending. It seemed pointless to use it in a house you didn't want to be destroyed," her eyes shoot around in the room, "So the only place he really displayed his abilities were the workshop or the fabric. I loved helping him with his inventions."

Korra gets the feeling Asami didn't want the last words to surface, but her opportunity is lost in her own flinch when another shelves gives under one man's searching with a loud thud. A cascade of books tumbles down to the floor.

Tarrlok motions over the desk and one of his men brings forward a bag.

"Then I suppose you would have never seen this before."

They all watch as Tarrlok subjects Asami to stumble through the tight bindings of the bag. After the last knot gives, a contraption of some sorts emerges from it, a match of split wires and twisted metal parts that cross in a sort of gauntlet. One end is blackened, resembling a burnt.

Once again, there's silence.

"What's that?" Korra twitches and feels at once all the weight of her impatience and inexperience in the flicker of Asami's eyes. She barrels through stubbornly, running head on as usual.

Tarrlok offers the same little smile as before, "That, young Avatar, is one of Hiroshi Sato's inventions. Apparently, it can grant the illusion of earthbending." he snatches the bag off the table, "Like bending could be lowered to a feeble and flimsy creation of a mortal who tries to play god."

The gauntlet gleams, harbouring hidden mysteries. Korra's gaze slowly trails down the wiry junctions, fractured design of a sinewy form. She tries to grasp the feeling of using it under her fingertips, if it buzzes with electricity. Her imagination circles back to the energy that flows and tingles in her body every time she bends.

How utterly amazing. "How does it work?" Tenzin asks and Korra basks in the inquisitiveness. No matter how resilient and traditional her master appears, Tenzin is surprisingly open minded faced with progress.

"My team of analysts were fascinated by the sheer genius behind this invention," Tarrlok palms the gauntlet, seduced despite his hate for the inventor, "Through carefully placed electrical charges planted in the ground, whoever wears this is able move entire sections of rocks. Something about repulsion and attraction between charges, I believe? It doesn't matter, engineer is a useless field of knowledge to benders."

Korra's uneasiness takes a tumble, "I disagree, Councilman," she struggles on the appellation, "It is important to draw and grow wisdom from different sources. If the knowledge has a single root, it inevitably withers and decays. Studying and understanding other elements and other disciplines, like in this case, is a key element to fairness and strength."

She smacks her lips together, feeling the tangy taste of stale on her tongue.

"A single discipline is doomed to failure, for its weaknesses will turn into cracks over time. Learning from others, even if criminals, will help us find the cracks in our society in time to heal them."

When she pauses, Tenzin clears his throat and it feels like a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Korra is right, Tarrlok. It's the same ideal Avatar Aang and Fire Lord Zuko followed when they decided to build Republic City. One we should respect, even in regards of non-benders."

Asami's stare burns, a trail of blazing emeralds. Korra dares a smile back at her, one so quiet that feels more intimate than a simple reassurance.

Tarrlok scoffs a dry breath, "Ah, this sounds like important Avatar talk. And who am I to disagree with the Avatar herself?" his voice intones like a disagreement, "I suppose, it's fair to give recognition where it's due. Now a criminal, but lest anyone forget this, Hiroshi Sato was one of the most brilliant minds of Republic City."

Alive and remembered as dead.

"And I bet genius isn't the only trait that runs in the family."

The broken leg of the chair grates dully on the carpeted floor, "Very well," Asami concedes and rises, circling around her desk. In the corner, the sofa bleeds white feathers.

Asami makes her way through the sea of debris without stumbling. She picks a fallen photo and puts it back on the mantelpiece of an extinguished fireplace. She turns the frame to face the wall and Korra notices a crack in the middle.

Korra shifts on her feet to accommodate a small circle around the Sato heiress. Tarrlok lounges in his chair, only half turned towards the middle of the room.

Inhaling deeply, Asami spreads her hands open in front of her, palms up. She flicks her wrist and a ball of fire ignites over her fingers.

It's one Korra has never seen before.

A streak of purple dances between the rings of fire, an intense colour that envelops the whole flame around his contours. The ball rustles for a moment before the heiress directs it into the hearth.

"Shall we go outside?" Asami says, "I'm not really keen on letting my house burn again."

Again? Korra wants to ask, but Tenzin waves away her questioning flinch.

The purple now burning deepens the creases of Tarrlok's displeasure, "I hope you don't mind if my men carry on with their research."

Korra watches a purple shadow stretching in the emerald of Asami's eyes.

+++

Tarrlok's examination is humiliatingly forceful.

The black sky is repeatedly stabbed by purple arches of fire until the roaring of the flames succumbs to a shiver. Asami lures fire into the world with a violent crackle as her limbs twist in graceful vaults. Fallen autumn leaves sizzle beneath her dance, but she doesn't slip once nor loses control of her flames.

Tenzin and Korra stiffen in the open air, avoiding Tarrlok's steely glare.

"Why firebending? Doesn't she have Earth Kingdom heritage?" Asami's green eyes vibrate in Korra's mind.

Her master's robes look coal among the violet flashes, "I have to guess it comes from her mother's side of the family. Yasuko was a firebender."

"She was?"

"She was." Tenzin's sigh is drawn and hidden, "Yasuko was a firebender, but maybe most importantly, she was a talented singer. Loved by many for her beautiful voice and soul. Her concerts used to fill each row of the theatre. It was quite difficult to find a ticket for one of her shows."

Asami claps her hands and a surge of purple arches over her body.

"She used to hold small parties at her home after these concerts. Small gatherings, with food, wine and music."

Asami's punch surges into a plume of fire as Korra tries to reconcile the heiress' defiant silence with the warmth of a mother figure.

"Then, one night, the Agni Kai Triad attacked the estate during one of these parties. Yasuko was killed by one member of the triad who sought money and power," glowing embers of ash billow the hem of Tenzin's robes, "Asami was barely a child when it happened. And now to be robbed of the last of her family..."

Korra's thoughts chase the bulky profile of her own father Tonraq, locked in an image of his arms hugging a petite figure made of warm smiles and cold hands. Her own mother was segregated to the realm of memories, alongside with Yasuko.

Her circle of thoughts is soon shattered.

The liquid sounds of the night are muted by a new sparkling, a crackling that follows a new faltered rhythm. Asami's hand sparks blue as her fingers draw a slow movement in the air.

And lightning strikes a distant star, a flickering point that blinks down at them.

"Is that all, Councilman?" as she wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead, Asami's voice sounds small, a ruffle of emotion that surfaces for the first time. Plaintive. Young.

Tarrlok grits his teeth and stares ahead, lips thin.

"Almost. Could you remove your gloves?"

Korra's eyes lowers to Asami's gloved hands, which she hadn't noticed.

The black looks smudged against the pale fingers that inch into view. A guard accepts the gloves with stony silence and at Tarrlok's nod, he burns the cloth on his palm. The smoke burns black with traces of grease.

"Please continue, Miss Sato. I apologize for the interruption."

Asami replies to his jab with another crackle and a purple shield of fire, hands waving in a circular motion. She extinguishes the flame with a tired heave but her next motion is still fluid, a shuffle of feet that burns with purple sparks in its wake.

Conceding to a sudden instinct, Korra's orange fire joins the next flash of purple, the flames fading next to each other.

Asami's gaze sharpens – Korra's mind muddles over the word that describes it, because it feels they could change colour suddenly, maybe turn into the green hue of the forest. But, she's not a poet.

The intrigue in Asami's eyes drowns Tarrlok's irked scoff, "I'm not here to assist to a display of your skills, Avatar. But if you insist, I could ask Miss Sato if she'd like to spar with you."

The idea shakes Korra's core.

"I believe that's enough, Tarrlok," Tenzin interrupts, "You wanted to verify the nature of Miss Sato's bending. I think this will suffice to quench your doubts, once for all."

He turns away from him, "Miss Sato. Thank you for your time. I appreciate it."

Asami bows deeply to him in reply.

Tarrlok stiffens his stance but accepts the idea of a retreat. He bows stiffly to Asami, "Thank you, Miss Sato. And please, in the unlikely event that damage has occurred, you may claim compensation from our police department."

"I'm sure everything's in perfect order," Asami says and Korra's knuckles pale. The Water Tribe Councilman turns on his feet and follows the cold stomping of his men.

"Let's go, Korra," Tenzin bows again and leaves the Avatar to follow him.

Korra lingers in the garden, not brave enough to leave. But not brave enough to speak, either.

Asami smiles a little for both of them, "Meeting you has been an honor, Avatar."

The words stir Korra and suddenly she finds herself wishing she didn't have to leave so soon, "Uh, me too Asami. I mean, Miss Sato, uh... I..." the smile that pulls at her lips doesn't feel reluctant anymore.

"Asami will do."

Korra sticks her hand out, "I'm Korra."

Despite the firebending, Asami's palm feels rough, and a little cold in the middle. It feels nice.

"Uh, I hope," Korra stumbles, falters, "I hope this isn't the last I see of you?"

Asami's smile doesn't dim, but Korra can tell something makes her sadder, uncomfortable. For some obscure reason, her voice, when it finally comes again, is thick and palpably sad.

"Have a good night, Korra."

"You too, Asami."

When she reaches Tenzin and glances back, Korra sees Asami hasn't moved from her spot in the garden. She raises a hand in the night.

On the dark side of the Sato estate, one window burns purple.

+++

Alone in her study, Asami slumps down in her chair, mindful of its broken leg.

She tugs at one palm, looking for the edge of the hard rock she had molded into a thin plate to follow the dips and the curves of her hand. They come loose with a satisfying click from both palms, and she shivers at the cold air that nicks at her skin. She inspects the flints with a careful eye, looking for imperfections or chinks on their surface.

She idly strikes the two plaques against each other and they resonate with a sizzling crackle. A purple flame surges alive between them.

It's favorite not favourite

this just in: the world outside of america doesn’t exist

Korrasami Week Day One

This was a fun prompt. Hope you’ll enjoy :)

----------------

Prompt: distraction

As soon as Republic City acquires a semblance of stability, she moves out of her home.

Filled with rambunctious benders, it was impossible for the hallways to echo as empty. But Mako and Bolin's loud family has to move out at some point, as they can’t keep living under her roof. Asami understands that. It's the same reason she won't permanently move to Air Temple Island.

She also understands the feeling that sings under her skin every time she sets foot in the mansion (she thanks Raava it's not a malicious one). She's not going to sell the mansion. She's too fond of those walls, despite... despite.

Instead, there's an idea that tickles her brain. It's the urge to do something with her old house, to transform it into something her parents could be proud of - both her parents. Something for the city, like a school or a library.

It's still a work in progress.

But inevitably, she moves out of the mansion.

She brings Bolin along in her hunt for a new apartment - he harbours a secret keen eye for design and Asami exploits it every time she can. Korra and Mako tag along, and the four of them make a day out of it, an afternoon that turns out to be a whole array of apologies to landowners as the pair of them keep destroying furniture and leave burnt marks on the walls.

She settles for a small house located on the side of the bay, one that has the Air Temple's skyline on the background and shingles that come loose after a storm. It's not in peak conditions, but she doesn't mind manual labour.

The roof is the first thing she patches up.

Slowly, each room gets touched by Korra, who spends as much time as possible there even if they aren't officially living together. Not yet.

Most days, Asami comes home to a second pair of boots next to the doormat, and the second toothbrush by the sink attracts a fuzzy feeling. She finds a second dish drying on the rack and a huge white polar dog chasing butterflies in her garden.

The same garden that Korra likes to turn into an impromptu training field.

The same garden her office has a direct view of.

Desk littered with notes, Asami nibbles down on a pencil as she tries to focus on the blueprints of an engine for a new line of mopeds.

Try is the key word here. She struggles to keep her head low on the project, because otherwise she will be rewarded with an unashamed view of Korra working out in the garden. An alluring and distracting view of her girlfriend working out in the garden.

It's not the first time she watches Korra train - they still regularly work out together at least once a week. But the image of Korra in workout clothes never fails to stir a very specific reaction in her belly. A pooling warmth that-

She shakes her head and banishes away those dangerous thoughts.

She erases another line on her pad, noticing a dumb error in the thermal conductivity equation.

If we shorten this pump, make it thinner, than the cooling liquid can move faster, so that heat will be released... release, crouch, jump and release, crouch, jump... quadriceps, those quadriceps. How could anybody have quadriceps like those? Sweet mother of all quadriceps...

Asami comes back to Korra's last squat, one fluid movement that ends in an arch of firebending, flames sizzling in the air.

And that’s not the point. The point is energy, energy she needs to find a way to carry to the core of the engine. Not Korra's impressive pace as she switches from roundhouse kicks to fast and powerful punches.

Even her hands somehow look really hot, wrapped in white tape.

And she knows that Korra's doing it on purpose, parading in front of her window in baggy pants and loose top.

If she wasn't, she would have completed her running laps along the circuit that wraps around the house, instead of turning back halfway to the first corner. It's completely intentional, like the casual waves Korra throws her way whenever she catches Asami's emerald eyes through the windowpane. She can detect a certain brashness in the Avatar's stance, one that's making her feel... things.

Usually Korra's flirting ranges from a 'I saw this rose and thought about you,' to 'Sun's out, guns out!' as she shows off like a dork, making Asami laugh each time.

And if Korra's new flirting is affecting her, well, Asami certainly won't have to admit that.

She rises from her seat to open the window leading to the garden. She remains motionless for a moment, enjoying the view of Korra doing some earthbending poses. She can see every slightly-ragged breath the Avatar easily control during the difficult poses, legs spread wide and shoulders firm.

The window latch clicks as she unlocks it.

"Korra," she calls out, elbows crossed over the sill, "Could you come here for a moment, please?"

Korra breaks the bending stance she's holding and hurries back to her, hopping on the window in a smooth leap, "What is it, Asami?" she asks, smiling like a puppy.

A cute, sweaty, hot puppy.

"How's the training going, dear?" Asami slows her tongue in a low curl around the endearment.

"Oh," Korra huffs and dabs at her forehead, flexing her bicep in the process, "I'm doing just a light workout, nothing too taxing."

"Mmm," Asami hums, hand rising to her chin and tapping at her lips. A smirk settles on Korra's face.

"See something you like?" Korra asks, blinking meaningfully at Asami. But maybe it's just a very inept wink she makes with both eyes. Asami doesn't know, but she feels giddy nonetheless at Korra's earnest flirting.

She bends lower until she's inches from Korra, who now sports a bashful look on her face. For all her bravado, the Avatar quickly resorts back to a fumbling, stumbling, blushing mess. A cute, fumbling, stumbling, blushing mess.

"Are you trying to distract me?"

"Aaah, is it working? Ah," Korra stutters and one of her hand rises to rub the back of her neck.

Asami leans closer and closer, until she feels warm breath tickle her lips and Korra's expression somber. There's the lightest of the pressures on her lips, the promise of something more. Korra struggles to chase that feeling, pushing her torso up with the pure strength of her arms. She's welcomed by empty air as Asami smirks and turns back.

"You should work a little more on those reps," she tosses over her shoulder, "Your earthbending stance seemed a little sloppy."

Korra's pout is almost endearing as her smile.

+++++

Korra is juggling a huge plate of Fire Nation spicy food, a glass of red wine she didn't really wanted and the most boring of the Earth Kingdom's ambassadors, when she notices the look Asami is giving her.

They're attending a gala in one of Republic City most glamorous venue, under President Zhu Li's insistence. If Korra could have chosen, she would have stopped participating to those events long ago.

Alas, being the Avatar meant being in the spotlight. Public appearances were a necessary if not uncomfortable requirement of her life and since Republic City hadn't faced any recent major crises, Korra had to settle for a stuffy gala once in a while instead of holding public speeches about passion and unity.

The only bright spot in those otherwise dull evenings were her friends and family, most of which were usually in attendance, being important political figures themselves. Tenzin and Jinora politely nodding from one corner, Lin frowning over a plate of dumplings and sometimes her father smiling proudly over a dorky thumbs up.

But if she's lucky, then it's Asami who's smiling at her.

She doesn't know how Asami manages to give her one of those sultry looks and a moment later she'll be nodding politely to one of those old investors of Future Industries.

Asami glances her way, sneaking in feather light touches on the inside of her wrists and in the crook of her elbows between one bald man and an overdressed lady easily impressed by the Avatar's presence. She steals Korra's glass from her pliable fingers to take one sip of her drink. And each time, Korra is left to stare at the lipstick imprint on the corner of her glass for the rest of the evening. (She doesn't dare finishing it for fear that a waiter will take it away.)

It's not like they are against public displays of affections. While most of the time they are pretty reserved about their relationship, they never shy away from small touches and fond smiles in public.

But holding hands and swapping chaste kisses is totally a different thing than the looks Asami is giving her. In the middle of a ballroom packed with some of the most prominent figures of Republic City.

That doesn't stop Korra's heart from flipping in her chest.

The red silk of Asami's dress covers the dip of her shoulders in a crimson cascade as light dances in the folds created by the gown. And the shine of her earrings draws attention to the beautiful emerald hues of her eyes. There's a speckle of gold swirling in them, one that Korra knows wanes in the dark.

Asami flips her ebony hair over one shoulder as she covers her lips with her fingers to hide a polite chuckle and Korra swears her gaze flickers to meet hers for a moment. Korra's ears turn red.

"Your last speech in the northern region of the Earth Kingdom was really admirable, Avatar Korra. For once, I..." dull words reach her ears, breaching her mind with the thoughtlessness behind them. She has no idea what the ambassador's saying, his words lost in an ocean of his own egocentricity.

"Yes, really inspiring," Korra's lips thin into an awkward smile as she stumbles through what she deems a gracious dismissal, "However, I am afraid I must take my leave now, ambassador."

"Ah, yes. The Avatar's company is as pleasant as it is sought-after."

Korra bites the inside of her cheek to hide a grimace, "Thank you, my Lord. I look forward to meeting you again in the future."

The ambassador takes an obnoxious sip of his drink, "Oh, and do seek my company if you wish to hear more tips about earthbending, after all I once was a..."

The droning is swallowed by the buzzing of lively guests as soon as Korra steps away.

She nods to some familiar faces on the way to the buffet table, schooling her features into an expression she wishes could convey her desire of not wanting to be approached. She sighs in relief when she is able to reach the punch bowl, a swirling coral colour, the same shade of Asami's lipstick.

"Hiding already?"

Korra wills herself to face another stuffy politician or worse, some stuffy politician's trophy wife, but instead she is greeted by the welcomed sight of a red dress and a radiant smile.

"Asami!" she fumbles, feeling heat collect on her cheeks after her recent thoughts about her girlfriend, "Aren't you supposed to be entertaining your investors?"

"They can survive without me for a moment. I thought I would come and see how my amazing girlfriend is feeling, hiding all the way to the buffet table."

"You know me," Korra says and tries desperately to move her eyeline up from Asami's hips to her face, praying Asami won't notice, "I can never say no to more food."

"Mmm." Lifting her glass to her lips, Asami's expression changes, smirking in the way Korra has learnt to fear.

"You never told me what you think about my new dress."

Korra blushes, floundering and thinking about how good it looks on her.

"Great!" Cheeks flaming, she yanks her chin up and fixes her eyes blindly on an undefined spot over Asami's shoulder.

"So, you like it?"

"You look amazing in red," Korra forces in a strangled voice, "You always do."

"Mmm."

"Asami," Korra barrels forward and there's a breathlessness in her voice she can't mask, "Have you been trying all this time to distract me? Or did I imagine those... those?" she waves a hand in a vague gesture.

"Is it working?" one of Asami's chiseled eyebrow rises.

"...maybe?"

Asami inches closer, forcing her backwards until Korra feels the bump of the table.

"I see," Asami's smirk makes her spine tingle, "So, right now, in this dress... do you think I look... snazzy?"

Korra's embarrassment washes away in a cloud of ruffled groaning.

"Asami..." she moans, eliciting an amused chuckle from her girlfriend.

"I'm sorry, dear. But it was too good of an opportunity to let it pass."

Korra grouses a bit more and Asami presses a kiss to her cheek, careful not to leave a lipstick stain, "Don't think I forgot about your little training stunt this afternoon."

The mood eases into something more familiar as Korra wraps her arms around Asami's waist, welcoming the touch and the fondness, "You're lucky I love you."

"Ooh, you love me," Asami cheekily repeats, hands interlocking behind Korra's neck, "And do tell me, am I being a distraction right now?"

Korra smiles as she brings their lips together.

Blake presses the cloth to her cheekbone again, until something floats to the forefront of her mind. She glances down at Yang’s left wrist, bare under the water. “Where’s your bracelet?”

Yang’s right eye peeks out to stare at her curiously. “It took a couple hits in Twelve this morning. Gave it to Ruby on the train to try to fix before they picked me up again tonight.” She pauses to catch her breath again, winded from the strain of all the words against her ribs. “We painted it yellow,” she finishes.

“I noticed,” Blake says. She can feel the corners of her lips curl faintly up.

“Aren’t you not supposed to do that?” Yang asks softly, a smile flickering across her face.

“Do what?”

“Notice me?”

hunger games au, chapter one. 36k. they don’t allow you to have bees in here, until they do.

This xkcd comic from 2009 changed my life. It feels timeless.

It actually reminds me of No one mourns the wicked by kellsbells

which is one of my personal favourites.

WICKED MUSICAL | SUPERCORP AU’S THAT I’LL NEVER WRITE 4/?

Lena has been casted as Elphaba for the new season of Wicked, most of the other actors think she only got the role because of her family and she’s starting to believe it.

Maybe they are right because how could she ever be to the pair of Kara Danvers (Glinda) who is literally one of the biggest names in musical theatre? Kara is nice, especially with Lena and all she can hope is not to mess things up with her, in and out of stage.