A College Au Lena

part one

Despite being very red, Lena's cadence stayed mellow and sober as she trudged through rows of flowers.

Kara studied her from the shade of the orchard, half hidden between wavy fronds of fig saplings. Leaning back against the coarse bark of an old tree, Kara sat cross legged, lap overflowing with wicker. She dragged her thumbs along the chipped edge of a half assembled basket, as her nimble hands entwined sinewy twigs with mindless sinuous movements.

She could see Lena's lips mouthing something, but she couldn't make out the words so far.

After a tentative week of forced bedrest, Lena's bandages had finally peeled away in clean folds of stale white. Her limp had healed and the bruises over her ribcage had disappeared, nursed back to health by stubbornness and frowns. As soon as she could last an entire day without collapsing in exhausted naps, Lena had rolled the cuffs of long sleeves over her wrists and offered to help with odd jobs around the farm.

"Have you ever uprooted weeds?" Kara mused, elbows half buried in a bag of fertilizer.

Lena cast the bag an indifferent glance, "Can't be more difficult than polyatomic anions."

Armed with a crooked rake, Lena braved the grassy plains with the hesitance of a newborn duckling. And the same quiet determination to spread wings for the first time.

The fields were cast in the rusty glow of sunset as light seeped into the wrinkles of Lena's starched shirt. It was an old garment, one that Kara had fished from a forgotten corner of her wardrobe, tucked under the tailored tunic her mo-

A twig snapped under her fingertips, startling Kara out of her thoughts. She brushed them away like cobwebs, struggling to untangle the broken wicker stuck in the weaved pattern of the basket. All her efforts proved to be fruitless and Kara stood with a sigh, mentally giving up on the task.

She looked over Lena's hunched form, still engrossed in her job and figured they could call it a day. She dusted herself off and strolled past the trees' edge, wandering towards the open field. The basket was soon forgotten in the fallen foliage.

As she neared, Lena interrupted her string of murmurs. Her rucked shirt was stained with dirt and grass smudges, much like Kara's beige overalls. Kara's eyes scanned the field, looking for the way glass bent around the memory of Lena's steps, who was bent over a flowerbed of tulips, a vibrant cloud of red flowers that dissolved into smoke every sunset.

Lena's eyes shone with wonder when she had seen her the first vanishing blossom turning into smoke.

The air smelled of flowers and early chance of rain.

Another petal dissolved under their eyes and Lena offered a halcyon smile.

"These flowers are beautiful."

Glowing with a burgeoning sunburn, Lena painted an almost endearing picture, dirt stains in the shape of her knees and small blisters huddled on her palms from the rake's handle.

"When I said you could help around the farm I didn't mean you had to get sunburn on the first day on the job."

Lena flicked a lock of hair behind her ear with a flippant smile, "I might have underestimated this planet's two suns."

Kara chuckled briefly, catching easily on the playful tone, "I can tell. You are also quite..." Kara hesitated, chanced a quick look at the sliver of Lena's exposed collarbone, "You do have a fair complexion."

"My Irish genes shining through."

Kara blew her lips, "Yeah, I have no idea what that means."

"You really don't, do you?" Lena looked pensive and Kara tilted her body forward, swaying on the balls of her feet.

"The place I come from, Ireland," continued Lena, "My mother's side of the family."

The tendrils of dimming sunlight felt warm on their skin.

"She is-" Kara waved a hand, "Is she Irish?"

Cracking a slanted grin, Lena turned subtly away from her as if to inspect another dissolving tulip, and made no reply. At the prolonged silence, Kara forced herself not to reach over, lest she ended up doing something ludicrous.

(Like tuck the sad alien under her chin, chase a grip on her body, fold those hunched shoulders in a hug.)

After a moment, Lena sighed.

"I'm sorry. I'm not really good for conversation."

Kara's thoughts clammed in one direction No, you are fine. For an alien who crashed on my tiny farm, you are doing really well, even if I think you frown too much.

"Me either. I'm not really good at talking, most of the time I end up rambling," was what she said, instead.

"You do seem the type to ramble," Lena commented, handing the rake back to Kara to dust herself off.

Kara surveyed the flowers with a critic's eye, impressed with Lena's work: she may have lacked speed, as only half the field had been tilled at the end of the afternoon, but Lena definitely made up with her immaculate meticulousness.

"Wow," she deadpanned, "The first alien ever to crash into my silo and - of course - it's a rude alien."

That was enough to make Lena smirk and to lodge a proud grain of warmth in Kara's chest. She could do banter with Lena. It was safer than personal issues.

Kara had a fleeting thought to grab Lena by the wrist, then thought better of it before starting the walk back towards the house. She felt Lena fall into step behind her.

"So, how was your first experience with farming?" Kara asked, pausing on the toll of lightness in her timbre. She heaved the rake over her shoulders with a twirl, a move she hoped looked as cool as she intended. But at the apex of the motion, the handle hit the back of her head with a thud.

Lena's chuckle flew past her ears like wind chimes and in horrifying slow motion, Kara turned her head back to look for the crumbles of her own dignity. There was mirth in Lena's eyes, a dance of laughing stardust as her grin teased Kara's clumsiness.

Blowing at her mussed hair, Kara felt her cheeks match Lena's in redness as one of the alien's dark eyebrow rose. Embarrassed, she ducked her head to look at her feet and kept walking.

"The first encounter of my intergalactic travels and - of course - it's a dork farmer."

Kara chuffed good-naturedly at the impish tone, "Rude," she tossed back over her shoulder.

She met Lena's amused stare with her own teasing eyes, as the alien plodded through the lush plains.

An easy silence fell between them, encompassed by the background noises of a languid sunset. A fatigued yawn overruled Lena's lingering grin.

"I'm definitely gonna be sore tomorrow," she stretched, rolling her stiff shoulders in circular motions. She halted mid stretch to wince at the feeling of tender skin, "Oh, I'm definitely gonna feel that tomorrow."

Kara couldn't help but sneak another glance at Lena's shoulders, red skin peeking from the loose collar of her shirt.

"I'm sure I have some silver cream somewhere in some cabinet. For burns," she reassured with a sympathetic hum.

"You're a lifesaver," Lena sighed gratefully, missing the quip of her own words.

Without missing a beat, Kara added a teasing note, "Alas, I don't entrust my secret remedies to rude aliens, so you'll have to-"

Lena swatted at Kara's arm, wrinkling her sunburnt nose.

"You should have thought twice about laughing at my coolest moves."

Kara relished in the serene warmth diffusing in her body from head to toes as Lena laughed again.

(It had been a while.)

+++++

(She almost forgot to retrieve the half finished basket.)

+++++

The ancient spaceship had been caught in the planet's orbit and had crashed in a manner of seconds.

Kara had been kneeling next to the leaky pond when the spaceship had slashed her sky in two, catching her silo in its blazing trail.

All the ducklings had scattered immediately at the blare of the crash, the herd of rams barreling down their grassy pasture in fright. It had taken her three full hours, later in the dim lights of the evening, to gather them again, coaxing the most stubborn with her treasured stash of gummy bears - hay flavoured.

The rising smoke had been thick, burning black from oil and machinery. The same dark smoke Kara had seen once, several moons ago, after the battle against Daxam, where her father's battleship had been swallowed in the same black clouds.

She had stumbled to the side of the burned out shell, squinting. With shaking hands and tattered rags she had snuffed the fire quickly, before pulling herself level with a gaping hole in the spaceship flank to peer inside its belly.

The sunlight had danced on the alien's dark visor as its head had lolled against her shoulder.

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.”

lena just gets on with her life every episode even tho shes been manipulated into horrible situations by her abusive mother and almost murdered by her brother several times WHILST getting blamed for everything they do NOT TO MENTION been thrown off a fucking balcony and been absolutely sure that she would die in the fall yet she ISNT EVEN FAZED by it is honestly?? unrealistic

the first of many I love yous

Korrasami Week Day Two

This idea spiraled into a direction I hadn’t predicted. Hope you’ll enjoy. Cheers :)

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Prompt: physical touch

Korra is six and likes to run her arms over Naga's fur, especially when they are huddled up in front of the fireplace and there's a storm howling outside.

Naga's white wool feels fuzzy on her bare skin, a ticklish sensation that leaves patches of shedding fur during the summer. She doesn't like it. Naga's thin hairs stick to her fingers, making it difficult for her to brush them away.

She prefers to be wrapped in a warm hug by her mother instead, and let Senna slowly run her fingers over her arms. They travel on the inside of her forearms before rising upwards, until they tickle her elbows and the nape of her shoulders.

Korra is eight and she's holding onto her father, standing outside the perimeter of the White Lotus Compound. She doesn't know what's waiting for her behind those metal doors, but she knows her father's touch intimately. Tonraq's huge hands envelop hers completely, leaving his thumb free to brush over her wrist.

She wonders if one day her hands will become like his, callous and hard and impossibly warm even in the snow. She recalls her mother's touch always feels cooler and dry on her skin. She wonders if that's the reason her parents often hold hands, to share warmth and coolness between each other.

The training white tape itches the first time she wraps it around her hands, but she's grateful she has taken the time to tighten it when she punches a wooden pole.

Korra is eleven and stubborn and angry. Master Katara had told her how Aang and her used to go penguin sledding together but the elders won't let her out of the compound in search for an otter penguin. So she decides to sneak out on her own to look for one.

The wind bites at her ears so she wraps one arm around her middle to keep warm. She conjures a small ball of fire on the palm of her hand, focusing on the burst that flows insides her. Her arms tingle in its wake and Korra relishes in the feeling.

Korra is twelve and Ikki's hands feel soft and wet as she grabs her wrist. The child is small and rosy cheeked, bundled up in a pile of furs. Her mother and Master Katara smile and coo at the two of them, while Korra grimaces a smile, wishing she could go back to practice waterbending instead of holding a baby's chubby fingers.

A year later, Korra feels a painful snap as something gives in her arm. She breaks an earthbending stance to curl on the ground, wailing in pain. Master Katara's face is bathed in light as she expertly bends a basin of warm water into a little disk, barely bigger than her wiry hand. The water coats Korra's arm and washes away the tears and the splitting pain, leaving behind a deep coolness in her bones that warms quickly.

Korra is fourteen when she dreams of rough hands that bind her legs together and force a piece of cloth inside her mouth, leaving painful bruises on her arms. A tight hold hauls her out of the bedroom window in her home and pushes her inside a cramped box that reeks of sweat and tears.

It feels like a nightmare on her waking skin, but it shakes her insides like a memory.

Korra is seventeen and her arms burn deliciously under the strain of Naga's pulling reins as the two of them escape the compound in the silent night.

The traditional Air Nomads robes itch her skin, but not as much as the Fire Ferret's uniform does. She always struggles with the protections. The ones with the Future Industries logo are softer, but made of a sturdier material. She feels the urge of scratching nonetheless, if only to chase away the annoyance with the dazzling smile and the emerald eyes.

The eerie mask of Amon glints under the shadow of Avatar Aang's statue. Her arms feel leaden, legs like wood as the chi blockers easily block her attacks. And when Amon takes her bending away, a coil of energy springs forward in her loose limbs, followed by a powerful surge of airbending that leaves her body singing.

Aang's touch is frigid like a ghost's, but warm like a cup of noodles.

Korra is seventeen and the cold of the sea bites at her fingers as they travel towards the South Pole, but Mako's pockets are warm. His hands run almost as hot as hers.

In the dull nights passed on the ship, Korra paces the tight hallways and feels like a caged animal. Asami's light is often lit in her cabin, the girl pouring over documents and numbers until late in the night. Korra watches her rubbing her hands together before offering to make some tea. When their hands brush over traded words and tea cups, Korra notices how cool Asami's feel.

Korra laughs and spills a bowl of popcorn over her shirt as Bolin nudges her from his seat during a thrilling scene of his last mover. The four of them are sitting in the last row of a darkened room with a huge image of Bolin staring down from the screen. The popcorn feels sticky on her bare skin and while trying to clean herself, she ends up making a mess all over Asami's silk shirt. The heiress laughs delightfully as she splutters an apology.

The energy of the spirit portal rumbles under her fingertips and for a moment she fears she won't be able to grasp it, let alone bend it.

Korra is eighteen when she loses the connection to her past lives. Her body shakes emptily, a low drumming that spreads to her core. Each touch is a numb print on her skin and for the first time her hands feel cold.

As she prepares to board the airship with a renewed skip in her steps, she chases down the excitement she feels at the dawn of a new adventure. She lets it collect in her belly and blames it when she can't fall asleep during the first night. Her shoulder is brushing Asami's under the covers, the two of them sharing a bed because of the cramped numbers of bedroom on the airship. Asami's feet are cold as her hands.

Korra is in Zaofu when she dreams about the same sets of rough hands, and the same bruising hold from her childhood nightmares.

The dream shakes her insides like the present.

Hazy and mellow, ready to slip into unconsciousness after the failed kidnapping attempt, Korra imagines Asami's shaking hand hovering over the top of her head. The image evokes a similar memory, one that involves her meditating into the spirit world under Asami's watchful eye.

The sand bites her cheeks as she watches Asami dabs at her sweaty forehead. Her hands are nimble and skilled even with a rusty welding torch, hanging precariously from a swing she had rigged up from scraps.

The same hands pry her fingers loose from the white knuckled grip she has on the phone after her surrender to Zaheer.

Korra is eighteen when poison travels up her limbs. It seeps into her arms and legs, spreading from the frozen circles of her shackles. It burns and burns and aches and burns, leaving a trail of boiling under her skin.

But Korra roars and rises over the pain.

She buckles and trembles and collapses in her wheelchair, armrest padded with a woolen lining. And when she tosses and turns in her bed, she swears she can still feel the poison burning her veins, despite having seen Su removing it from her body.

Asami touches her hands, following the lines of her palms. Korra can't tell if they feel cool to the touch.

Her arms stop hurting after two weeks, but they feel nothing compared to the aching numbness in her legs. Her thoughts are splintered, riddled with pain that freeze and fracture.

She welcomes the biting cold of the South Pole on her twitching fingers with a tired sigh.

Korra is twenty-one when she discovers the poison hadn't completely left her body. She cuts her hair and trudges forward, feeling the mud dampen her socks through the holes in her shoes. She covers her arms with white training tape.

The air of Republic City hangs ominously over her head, but Asami welcomes her back with a warm hug, hands coming to a rest over her shoulders. She's glad she's left her shoulders bare.

She tumbles and bruises in the Air Temple yard, and it feels good to train properly again. After each session of training, Asami's hand brushes hers while she hands her a tea cup.

Korra keeps her arms covered, not feeling brave enough to bare them.

Korra is twenty-one and Asami's body feels small as she curls beneath Korra's chin. The golden light of the new spirit portal hums and glows. In the darkness, Asami holds onto Korra's hands, clutching at her like a lifeline. They are still holding hands when they step into the spirit world.

A friendship was made that day

Korrasami Week Day Six

Okay, I don’t quite like how this turned out. But, since I lost the momentum of Korrasami Week, I forced myself to write this one and post it. So, here it is. Enjoy :)

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Prompt: future

Dear Asami,

I am flattered you wrote to me about this. What it feels like, loving an Avatar. How to be true to someone who will always put the world first. I shall do my best in aiding you.

The first thing I wish to write is this: you are entitled to ignore everything I say in this letter.

Life taught me that all lovers are inventors when they build a relationship, made of words, sighs, memories, touches. Every person is different, inherently so. It cannot be true that my love for Aang will be the same as yours for Korra.

Despite this, I can understand your concerns.  I promise I will do my best to meet them.

I believe it was fundamental to me to learn to love both Aang and the Avatar as the same person. This probably sounds confusing, so let me try to explain.

When I met Aang for the first time, frozen in that iceberg, I saw the Avatar. Not Aang, but the Avatar. It was a difficult truth to admit, one I recognized only many years later. The girl in me was fascinated by him, possibly starstruck. I was thrilled of being the one who had found him after a hundred years. I was sure he would save us all from the Fire Nation.

But he was just a child.

I was a child.

I had to grow a lot before even entertaining the idea of a relationship with him. We both had to. That first journey to master the different bendings had been a starting point for us, for our relationship. A start.

After those first days, the Avatar became Aang. And I started seeing Aang first, then the Avatar.

You might believe that to be the correct way to love an Avatar. It is not. Seeing first Aang - or Korra - and then the Avatar means denying an important aspect of their being, of their essence. You might see this in the simplest things, like spending an anniversary together or going on vacation. Other times it's rather unpleasant, like being separated for months and years to build a new city while you have to raise your children alone.

Asami, Korra is everybody's person. She has to be, because the world will always need her. They keep asking and digging for resources and answers and demands. I saw this with my Aang and now I see the same reflected in Korra.

But, my dear Asami, if Korra is everybody's person, who's gonna be hers? Everybody needs a person.

And, if I still know Korra, she'll argue about her being enough for herself. Don't listen to her and instead, make her listen to you. She's strong and stubborn, our girl, and even though she grew so much in these past few years, she will need someone to stand beside her.

You have to be Korra's rock, so she can be everybody else's rock.

There's a reason why both Aang and Korra surrounded themselves with loyal friends, team Avatar.

But I am sure you are already aware of all of that, or else you wouldn't have kept writing all those letters even without reply. Or offered to come and visit the South Pole during Korra's recovery.

Or stand back when she asked to do all of this alone.

Don't be surprised if I know of these events, Asami. This old waterbender still has a couple of tricks up her sleeves to keep track of her family.

Now, I won't lie and say things were always perfect between me and Aang.

We had our fair share of arguments, believe me. Communication is key, as it should be in all relationships, but I believe this is mostly true in our special case. I still cherish the memories of me and Aang talking at the end of the day, about everything and nothing, surrounded only by stars.

That is the reason, Asami, why I believe you are deeply wrong when you write that you feel you have to withheld your problems and thoughts from Korra for fear of burdening her. I know it might sound tempting to bottle everything up, shielding behind the weak reasoning of 'She is the Avatar. She has so many other things going on with the rest of the world, how could my issues compare to hers? Be of any importance?'

You're not the first to think along those lines.

Only because you have to be Korra's rock so she can be the best Avatar, it doesn't mean your feelings matter less. Despite having many people asking for her attention, you'll be the first one Korra wishes to spend time with, the one she confides into. Equally, you have to trust her with your feelings.

This is what means loving Korra as both Korra and the Avatar.

By not confiding your thoughts, you are creating a disequilibrium in your relationship. Simply because you aren't treating her as equal to you. Even though your intentions might come from good, Korra is your partner and you have to trust she'll be with you for every step of your journey. She can and wants to deal with your problems, as petty as they seem.

I learned this after a particular harsh fight with Aang, not too long after Kya's birth.

I was tired of feeling alone, especially in Aang's disappointment. He wished to have a child who could airbend like him, but Kya revealed to be a strong bright eyed waterbender from a young age. And while Aang didn't love her or Bumi any less, his desire for a new Air Nation was almost too strong, sometimes. There was a part of him that couldn't help but feel disappointed. Not because of me, nor for the children, but mostly himself.

It all comes down to legacy, in a sense.

Aang wished to rebuild the Air Nation. Korra lost her connection to all her previous lives and the next Avatar will have only her to rely to.

They are two different events, but connected nonetheless. Being the only bearer of a whole world feels overwhelming.

Both cannot be obtained by living alone, though. I believe I have some merits in restoring the Air Nation: I helped Aang with all of myself, after all. (Do not think of me as vain when I write this, Asami, because I have reached an age where I can say everything I believe, without caring about social norms. I may have picked up a couple of things from Toph in all these years.)

Similarly, Korra will need help. Sadly, my old bones do not quite agree with modern technology, but I am sure a brilliant mind loke yours can find a way to maintain Korra's memories and feelings alive, beside the spiritual plane. After all, and I know Korra herself is worried, nobody really knows what happened with Raava and if Korra will be able to talk with her future lives.

You are the future, Asami. Alongside with Korra and the rest of your friends.

And I am sure the world couldn't be in better hands.

With love, and say hi to Korra for me,

Katara

YES YES YES

Korrasami Week Day One

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

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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.

Korrasami Week Day Three

Oh, this one hasn’t undergone through much editing. Enjoy :)

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Prompt: vacation

"You sure you got everything?"

"Don't worry, me and Pabu are ready to rock the beach! Those waves won't even know what hit them!" Bolin exclaims, flexing his arms over his head. Pabu climbs his torso to reach his forearms, sporting a small straw hat that matches his.

Mako sighs silently and folds the last of his towels against his leg. He places the cloth inside his bag, on top of all his other belongings. His brother doesn't miss the suspire.

"Relax, Mako. It's just one weekend."

Mako zips the bag before replying, "With Korra, I've learnt not to take anything for granted."

Bolin's enthusiastic reply slides into pursed lips, "You're not wrong... I mean, even Wu is tagging along," he trails off and shakes his head vehemently, "Oh, come on, Mako! It's been a long time since we went on vacation together. Me, you, Korra, Asami, Wu and my sweet Opal. I won't let your gloomy attitude ruin it! I know this time everything will go smoothly!"

Bolin's ramble accompanies them outside their home, to the front porch.

His brother has a point. It's not easy for them to coordinate holidays and outings so most of the times they are reduced to shared brief lunches or late nights together, where exhaustion grips at them from all sides. A whole weekend feels like a small blessing and he hopes they'll make the most of it.

"Last check, did you pack everything? What about the sunscreen? You grabbed that, too?"

Bolin's protests die immediately on his mouth, lips tightening in a cheeky smile as the earthbender rushes back inside. Just to be on the safe side, Mako lazily rifles through the contents of his own bag one last time. He prays this will be the most action he experiences during the weekend when a weird crunching noise distracts him.

"Good morning, Mako!"

Korra's cheerful call comes from a small van parked in front of him. The Avatar is leaning outside the window of the passenger seat, perched on the thin sill. Next to her, Asami smiles at him from the driving seat, green eyes shaded by a pair of googles.

He hoists his bag higher on his shoulder and waves back at them.

+++

"Next time," Wu pants and swallows heavily, face pale as a sheet, "We're riding badgermoles."

"So we have to listen to your singing? I’d quite prefer this, thank you very much." Korra replies, leaning back in her seat with a lazy stretch. Opal smiles at the back of her head, sharing the sentiment.

After all, Asami's van had easily welcomed the six of them with all of their belongings, and leaving space for Opal to stretch her legs between the seats.

"An air bison?" Wu groans again and Opal smiles sympathetically at him.

"Sorry, Tenzin had banned me from all the air bison’s stable, after I sort of helped Jinora sneak out in the middle of the night," Korra yawns and rubs at one eye, "And Opal here is still a student, and therefore prohibited to use air bison transportation for," she quotes with her fingers, "Such frivolous activities. But, on the bright side, I don't think this method of transportation is that bad."

"You think that only because it has the Future Industries' logo on its side," he moans back, both arms wrapped around his stomach.

Korra shrugs, "It's not my fault my girlfriend is a genius," she replies, leaning over the clutch to kiss said girlfriend on the cheek.

"I'm sorry, Wu," Opal hears the smile in Asami's apologetic tone, "But it won't be for much longer, now. We're almost there," she replies as she takes another turn down a deserted street.

The engineer drives smoothly down the lanes, slouched in a comfortable posture, even as the roads become smaller and less frequented. She looks serene in her seat, arms lazily gripping the wheel. Because of the many turns they had undertaken, Opal had lost any sense of direction. Instead, she takes her time to admire Asami's navigational skills: the driver hadn't looked at the map once, not since their departure from Republic City, but she hasn't hesitated once.

Opal takes a look at the other passengers to distract herself from Wu's retching sounds. Beside him, Mako leans against the side of the van, arms crossed and eyes closed, probably in sleep. Opal suspects he's just trying to ignore Wu's moaning. Most surprising of all, Bolin's snoring loudly in the seat next to her, passed out only after few minutes of traveling, lulled to sleep by the van's rocking motions. Pabu has disappeared at the beginning of the drive in the back of the van to keep company to Naga.

Curious, Opal leans forward between the two seats in the front, careful not to jostle her slumbering boyfriend.

"Asami," she begins, "How come you never told us about your beach house before?"

The Sato heiress catches her eyes through the rear view mirror and offers a slight smile, "I don't know, Opal. I guess I never considered the idea of going there again until Korra mentioned a beach day."

Korra makes an humming noise from the side, to which Asami's smirk only grows. Opal isn't privy to the silent exchange, but the secret traded knowledge doesn't bother her because of the exclusion.

"When was the last time you came here?" Opal asks again, head lolling on her crossed arms with the elbows resting on both the front seats.

"I was very little. I think I came here last with my mother," Korra lays a hand on Asami's tight. Smiling fondly, both at the memory and at the touch, Asami waves away the gesture, but not the feeling, "We wanted to go together, but my dad had to remain behind for a last minute emergency at the factory. He insisted we went without him."

Asami's smile never falters.

"Though he never said anything, I think he wanted to get rid of this house after my mother’s death. Sell it, probably. Even though I don't know what made him change his mind in the end- That's the place, by the way."

"Well, I, for once, am sure glad he didn't sell it," Korra whistles lowly, admiring the blue and white mansion that enters their windscreen.

But the rueful chuckle that escapes Asami's lips makes Korra's hand cease its circular movement on her leg.

"It's nothing, don't worry," for the second time, Opal feels like she missed a beat of the conversation, "I just realized I don't have any memory of my father in this house."

Korra's other hand rises to Asami's cheek and brushes away a strand of ebony hair.

After a moment, Opal adds her smile and her hand on Asami's shoulder.

"Then," she says, feeling like a real airbender behind those words, "What are we waiting for? Let's go make some new memories."

+++

When they reach the beach, with the sea lapping gently at the shore, the first thing Korra does is heave her girlfriend over her shoulders and drop her in the water.

Asami comes back to the surface spluttering and complaining about sunscreen and sunburns.

+++

Later, after a raucous round of water fighting with Opal and the two brothers, Korra marches back to the beach, where an unaware Asami is peacefully reading a thick book, body splayed on a towel.

Korra drops unceremoniously on her, sprawling over her back like a starfish and dripping freezing water over her warm skin.

Asami shrieks, and Korra laughs.

+++

The six of them engage in an animated match of volleyball, one that ends in the water.

They have to explain the game to Korra, first, who has never played before in her life.

Surprisingly, Wu reveals himself to be a pretty decent server, scoring a few points with only one shot. But the skill doesn't balance his refusal to play any ball that's saved further than this, claiming of not wanting his hairstyle ruined. Opal is the fastest on her feet, jumping at any given occasion to land most of the smashes.

Mako stumbles awkwardly through a couple of smashes, but Bolin makes an amazing defender against the sturdier hits. His strength hinders his fast movements, so his team ends up relying on Asami's timely saves. Except for those, Asami reveals herself to be a terrible player, somehow lacking the proper coordination for simple passes.

They all breaks down in giggles when Asami accidentally hits Korra in the face with a terrible serve.

+++

"What do you mean you can't sandbend? Aren't you an earthbender?"

Bolin smiles awkwardly at Wu, "Yes, but that's not the same thing."

Wu wrinkles his nose from behind his round sunglasses, his face being his only visible part. Bolin and Opal are working together to bury him completely in the sand, as their original plan of building a sand chair had failed miserably. At random intervals, Mako kicks a spray of sand in their direction, helping them bury the former king.

"Why not?" Wu asks again, "It's practically the same thing. Sand is just earth, split into grains and located at the ocean's side."

Bolin's face flickers to a miffed expression, "It's not the same thing, because I can't sandbend, but I can earthbend."

"Do you know the reason it's not?"

"Of course," Bolin pauses in his digging to hunt for words, "It's because... because."

"You don't know?," Wu presses, "Aren't you an earthbender?"

"I am!" a wave of embarrassment washes over Bolin, "And what about you? Why don't you know the difference?"

Wu sniffs at him, "I'm not an earthbender."

"But you're the Earth King. You should know this stuff," Bolin points out simply.

Wu's complaints pitch his voice into a whine, but Bolin can now recognize when Wu is taking the teasing in stride, laughter bubbling behind his words, "Former king, thank you very much. And I-"

Bolin sighs, tuning out the political spree Wu inevitably launches into. He had seen in first person the effects of Kuvira's tight reign on the Earth Kingdom, and so it's natural for him to wholeheartedly agree with Wu's decision in stepping down on the throne. He has the feeling that the world had seen enough of monarchs, at least for a little while.

He just wishes he wouldn't launch into an half hour speech every time they mention it.

Bolin trades shrugs with Opal as he lets his gaze divert to the side. His eyes fall on Korra's form, laying curled up on her side, head in Asami's lap. They're huddled on their towels next to their failed sand chair, Asami sitting up to read her book. One of her hands is busy carding through the Avatar's damp hair in a rhythmic motion. 

Korra looks on the brink of sleep, with that thousand mile stare she does every time she struggles to stay awake. And Bolin knows the warmth brought by the touch of a lover so he understands Korra's wishes to remain awake as long as she actually can.

He feels lucky to be among the few who have the privilege of seeing the Avatar so relaxed. In the past years Bolin had known her, Korra had faced many adversities, always giving to the world more than it deserved. Bolin often wondered how much more she could give before it demanded too much.

Seeing her pliable and serene slots a pebble in Bolin's chest, one that warms in a pleasant way.

When he rises his eyes, he meets Asami's smile with one of his brightest.

It doesn't take long for Asami to join the conversation, offering her input on sand. She explains the many applications it has found in modern technology and how Future Industries has hired a team of skilled sandbenders to create prosthetic limbs with sand particles, resulting in lighter and stronger models.

He doesn't need to imagine the widening of Korra's smile.

+++

The moon shines over them, splintered in speckles of white over the black pool of the sea. The lapping waves peal like thunder.

Strolling on the beach, Korra gently leads Asami by the wrist, eyes soft. And Asami follows her until she feels the water lap at their waists and tickle their bellies.

Korra wraps her arms around her shoulders, guiding her further in the sea of darkness.

They sway to the rhythm of the waves, stealing slow and tender kisses from each other.

Asami presses the side of her head to Korra’s chest without a word, burying her face in Korra's neck. Her hands circle her waist and Korra feels like her heart is about to burst from love. She presses a kiss to the crown of Asami’s head in turn, cradling her closer in the embrace and heating the water around them with firebending, so Asami won't feel cold.

They stay entwined in the dark for long, moving only to kiss or caress another silver of skin.