#lightningmanmako

"Hmm," she hummed, tilting her head back as he kissed her neck, her eyes closing automatically.

Send “¿¿” for my muse’s reaction to yours finding them skinny dipping.

In a state of panic, she flailed around with a gasp and started to sputter when she got a mouthful of water into her lungs, letting out a harsh cough. Once she regained her composure, she covered herself with her arms and glared at him.

"Zaheer wouldn’t like if I killed you, and I wouldn’t be to happy about it either. Despite what you may think of me, I wasn’t always lying to you.”

Send me ₩ for my muse to sit in your muse’s lap

Normally, Korra would have made Mako move out of the mover theater chair when the row only had enough for three of the four of them. She hated to be the one who didn’t get a seat, but that’s how it was when she was last to file in the row.

"Scoot over," she whispered.

He didn’t move.

Korra straightened up, debating on what to do. Someone in the row behind them complained, telling her to find a seat and to stop blocking the screen.

Fine.

Korra didn’t give it anymore thought as she turned around, sitting down on Mako’s lap.

Everything about his new life was amazing and such a blessing...or so he'd been told over and over and over again. Granted he was grateful for being granted such an amazing power of air, and becoming friends with Jinora, the Avatar and others, getting a home, clothes, food...Bolin called them a family. While all of it was wonderful and helpful it was also slowly driving him insane.

3 Song Playlist for Mako and Korra

Do I Wanna Know —  Arctic Monkeys

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic — Sleeping At Last

Say Something — Christina Aguilera/A Great Big World

He watched as the woman traced the scar on his arm with her fingers. “It…doesn’t hurt anymore. Much.”

She was sure that her mind went blank right about that moment. Mindlessly reaching over until her fingers delicately traced the markings on his arm. 

It was only when he heard him speak when she snapped out of her trance-like state.

It was one of those nights where Asami needed to get her mind off things. As she strode into her favorite Republic City dive (which was her favorite because no one gave a shit about who she was and why she was drowning herself in whiskey all the time), she pretended like this was a different night than the rest of them, like she didn't always need to get her mind off things. It wasn't her fault that she was unbearably lonely most of the time now that Team Avatar seemed to be a thing of the past.

It wasn't that she didn't have friends. It was more like she didn't have time to keep up with them. Her business had been consuming most of her life as of late, and it was stressful, and it was making her lose sleep, and it was sucking what was left of her contentment right out of her body.

So, instead of staying home and crying (which is what she felt like doing), she went out and drank and kissed strangers and pretended like things were okay. She pretended like she didn't hate how her life was playing out now that her mom was dead, her father was in jail, her friends were busy doing other things, and Korra didn't want her to come with her to the South Pole.

The bartender already was preparing her drink as she sat down at the bar. Whiskey on the rocks. The raven-haired industrialist nodded in thanks as he plopped it down in front of her. She took a long sip and shuddered at the strong taste, but reveled in the smell of escapism.

Asami hoped that maybe tonight would somehow be different, although, she wasn't sure how that could've been possible.