oversized puppies!!!

anonymous asked:

If Bakugou is a bag of angry kittens then is Kirishima just an oversized puppy?

what could ever make you think so, anon

Humans Are Weird

I’m jumping on the Humans-Interact-With-Aliens bandwagon!
Okay, so, general behaviors varying wildly between humans and aliens??. And humans are just really perceptive at recognizing emotions (it comes with being social by nature) and good at consoling their crew-mates. 
(This totally sucks. This is me doing a draft. I’m going to have an actual short story that uses some of this up in a bit. Sorry for the odd/cruddy names, I have never written or really read sci-fy XD )

“Is everything alright, Wixi’nan?” a Human approaches Wixi’nan, arms splayed out wide and movements slow. Their voice is lower and softer than usual, which causes the thick brow on Wixi’nan’s gray skin to furrow and xir’s appendages to crack and elongate in frustration.
“I am fine.” xir’s tone is clipped, xe regards the dark eyes of the Human designated “Asper” with caution. “Why ix-ith- you’re language ix quite complicated-  it that you ask? I am performing my dutieth in a perfunctory and timely manner; if what you fear that my efficienxy has declined thince laxt we were met, then conthern yourself no longer.” Most Xota’ilianths would end the conversation there, as that would be their only concern until work was over. However, the Humans operated differently.
The Human nodded their head decisively, short hair bobbing with their movements. “Right, you’re sad. Follow me.”

Wixi’nan was loathe to admit, but Asper was right. It was just that Xe was supposed to be working, and complaints were rude and seen as a negative reflection on xir’s leader, so xi has stayed silent. Xe shadowed the Human’s soft steps with snaps and hisses that came from xe’s movements.
A door slid open with a chirping whir, and the Human pointed at a lump of stuffed cotton, “Sit.” Gentle sounds started emitting from the ship’s speakers, and xir’s antennae shot up and twitched wildly, face flushing to a dark color in preparation for fight. The sounds of waterfalls and what Humans called “piano” and “bass” soon soothed xir’s frayed nerves, however. It might be the “music” that the Humans talked of, but it sounded different. Xota’ilianths much preferred chanting and more structured sounds- patterns relaxed them. Xe sat, noting that the pile of stuffed cotton- called “pillows” by the Humans- was surprisingly comfortable. A mug of- *something*- was shoved into xir’s hands; xe briefly noted that the Human was so SMALL in comparison to xem.
“Do you want to talk about it?” the Human sipped at her own- *something*- as they inquired as to xir’s problems.

“No. Now, what ix thix odd drink?” It was good, xe admitted. As a semi-cold-blooded specie, warmth was to be appreciated.

Xe would not have been surprised if xir’s abrupt topic change offended Asper. It would, certainly, offend many of xir’s own kind.
Xe was startled when Asper simply went, “Okay. And hot-chocolate.” Before delving into stories: history and historical differences between their cultures (”Humanth have more than one culture?!”  “Oh, yes. We’re all quite spread out, you see, and so we developed according to different conditions and out cultures grew around our environments!”  “Fascinating.”), interesting things that had happened to them (What is a Gern?” “Believe be, A’pen, you do not wish to know.”). After conversation tired, Aspen offered Wixi’nan a book, and in silence they enjoyed the comfort of being close to another.

It was at the beginning of the next half-rotation of the nearest planet that the duo would awaken, in what Aspen referred to as a “pillow-fort”.

“Thank you, A’pen.” Xir’s large hand engulfed xir’s new “friend” ‘s. “Your name might mean ‘rough’ and ‘harsh’, but it clearly is no reflection of you

“Any time, Wixi’nan.” Aspen flashed a grin, before her facial emotions completed disappeared, startling Wixi’nan, “But you doubt the Human race and their ability to destroy and surprise; specifically. *my* ability to be totally wicked!” Another grin, and Aspen was off. The Human was off to investigate the “dangerous” beast, she scoffed. She had seen videos of it, it was TOTALLY an oversized puppy with a forked tongue, wings, claws, and what looked like armored fish-scales. Why did aliens not realize that a friend comes in many shapes?

To the Rescue

Summary: Uncle Chris Evans - need I say more? || fluff!

Word Count: 1175

Note: For fictional/writing purposes, I’ve named Chris’ nephews even though I have 0 knowledge of their actual names, so yeah, please keep that in mind!!

A/N: Dedicating this fic to my beloved @retroasgardian because I love her to death. hope you all enjoy this! :)

Originally posted by chrisevanshh

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anonymous asked:

Can u write a smut where ur playing spin the bottle with Mingyu and Minghao after u guys left a boring party and it leads to a threesome sex? (Sorry if its too much!🙈)

Bottles

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2506

Summary: A simple game escalates quickly when alcohol is involved.

(A/N): THIS KILLED ME Minghao is my bias and Mingyu is right up there with him so basically I’m biased af through this whole thing. But it was super fun to write and I’m really happy with how it turned out, I hope you like it~

Originally posted by jooshua

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Wynonna Earp 1x03

Nicole & Waverly *having a moment*

Champ: *pounces on Waverly like a goofy oversized puppy*

Nicole *leaves*

Champ: Something about her rubs me the wrong way.

Waverly *muttering* she’d rub me the right way if you’d, you know, leave

Taisho Roman AU headcanons

A/N: some ramblings/character outlines; this is meant to be a humorous, slice-of-life/episodic romance sitcom kind of AU lolol Based off of [these official illustrations]
Ships: KanaDia; YouRiko; YoshiRuby


Penguin Books [Dia, Kanan, Riko]

Dia

  • the founder and owner of a publishing house - Penguin Books no copyright issue with the real life one btw rofl
  • Loves literature, which is part of the motivation for her to pursue this path
  • Thinks Kanan has a way with words (when she’s not trying) and it’d be a waste not to put such talent into writing
  • Thinks no one knows about her relationship with Kanan (Riko rolls her eyes at this); is a bit of a prudge yet sometimes she does doki-doki things subconsciously
  • Extremely protective of Ruby, but has no idea her little sister already has a girlfriend and is probably better at relationships than she is

Kanan

  • Writer, loves traveling around to get inspiration or just to chill, which does inspire her; also walk around and show off the scarf Dia gave her
  • Was a wanderer doing odd jobs here and there before a chance meeting with Dia; she sent Dia love letters/notes, which is how Dia discovered her ‘talent’; while she does enjoy writing, she enjoys Dia reading more
  • Under Dia’s tutelage of proper format and grammar etc, she became a novelist
  • Acts like an oversized puppy sometimes; Dia feeds her wakame like kibbles while she writes
  • Dense with capital D; she can (unknowingly) easily set up the perfect mood, only to ruin it by suddenly jotting down notes or outlining aloud

Riko

  • A talented illustrator working with Dia and Kanan; currently serializing a manga series under pen name Lily
  • Mainly prefers charcoal or watercolors, but interested in foreign 'crayons’ as well
  • To avoid getting blinded by her boss and colleague’s blatant not-flirting, Riko tends to hang out at Mikanya most of the time; they have delicious sandwiches there
  • She met You briefly there one fine afternoon; that night she stayed there until closing hours to see if You would come back, much to the staff members’ amusement; her defense was that You’s shorts were too distracting, which is understandable cuz mmnnn yummy legs
  • Thinks no one knows about her crush on You, when in reality Kanan is writing a story based on her and You;

Dolphin Express [Mari, You, Yoshiko]

Mari

  • Owner of Dolphin Express, a ¼ Italian fond of the Japanese culture
  • Likes teasing the hetare captain and her hetare adopted sister
  • Met Kanan on an island when the latter was looking for inspiration; while she loves Kanan’s books, she prefers listening to the much more interesting real-life romance of Kanan & Dia and watching You & Riko dance around each other
  • She’s the culprit behind some of Kanan’s and Riko’s more daring ideas
  • Playfully argues with Maru every time she’s at Mikanya, about why coffee is better than tea

You

  • Captain of one of the many cruisers under Dolphin Express; loves her job
  • Rather than going to izakayas with her crew, she likes spending time at Mikanya, where her childhood friend Chika is Mikanya’s proprietor
  • Recently found more excuses to go there, to sneak glances at the pretty artist but never dared to talk to her
  • At one point Chika had enough and ‘accidentally’ spilled a drink on Riko; chivalrous You automatically went to help out, held a decent convo with Riko until she realized it, blushed, and fled
  • Enthusiastic in helping Yoshiko get alone time with Ruby but somehow always ends up spending time with Riko instead, not that she’s complaining
  • Completely oblivious to Kanan and Dia’s relationship, or Riko’s mutual crush on her

Yoshiko

  • A full Japanese who pretends she’s British (Yohane); Mari’s adopted sister; Enjoys traveling and learning foreign languages and customs
  • Avid reader of the Penguin Books’ collections, esp Lily’s manga
  • Very exasperated at her friend You’s obvious crush on Riko
  • Oblivious to her own embarrassing flirting attempts with Ruby in public; in private, she’s quite charming and suave with her; no one knows she and Ruby are a couple already
  • terrified of Dia, for a good reason; hence her fail-flirting with Ruby in public to test the waters and so far, not good

Mikanya [Chika, Hanamaru, Ruby]

Chika

  • Proprietor of a tea house; but prefers blending in as a waitress than do management stuff upstairs in her office
  • Enjoys all the stories You brings back with her from her travels; likes reading Kanan’s books and Riko’s manga as well
  • Happily provides ideas whenever asked; good matchmaker
  • Pleased that her tea house is the source of inspiration for Kanan’s latest novel, about her two friends
  • gives Mari special treatment because she’s the only one who actually does call her ‘Chikacchi’ like she asked everyone to

Hanamaru

  • A waitress at Mikanya; loves reading and provides feedback for Kanan and Riko’s drafts
  • Protective of best friend Ruby, but Yoshiko is ‘a bit of a failure but a good person zura
  • Thinks Yoshiko should just be herself instead of Yohane
  • Nibbles on bread as she watches You and Riko’s not-so-subtle glances at each other
  • Sips tea as she watches Kanan and Dia acting like a married couple already

Ruby

  • A waitress at Mikanya; enjoys helping the chef come up with dessert menu
  • Doted on by everyone especially Dia; so she actually finds Yoshiko teasing her quite refreshing; Yoshiko doesn’t coddle her like others
  • Yoshiko’s secret girlfriend, also the only couple to successfully hide their relationship from everyone; unlike popular belief, she’s the top
  • Appreciates You’s attempts to help her and Yoshiko, so she tries returning the favor too
  • Thinks Onee-chan and Kanan-chan should just get married already

anonymous asked:

Vernon "7" please

Vernon, “I dreamt about you last night.” 

“I dreamt about you last night.”

“Gross.” she wrinkled her nose, shimmying further away from his bed. It was futile though, considering she was pressed up against the wall and her dorm bed was definitely not big enough for her and her oversized puppy of a boyfriend. 

He started whining unintelligibly, partially due to lack of sleep and to the disinterested attention she wanted to give him. Vernon’s face was half submerged into the warm pillows, his body overlapped by a large lilac duvet. He was absolutely melting into her bed. “But I’m serious, quit hatin’ on me.” he shot an exhausted glare in her direction, “It was a good ass dream. Like, we were married and stuff. And we had lil Vernies and yous running around our mansion like—”

“Oh, god.” she stifled a chuckle, finally putting down her textbook, “that sounds more like a nightmare.” 

“Maybe if I stay tonight, you can dream the same dream I had.” 

“Oh, really? Are you the official dreamkeeper now?” she teased, letting herself lean into Vernon’s open embrace. She sighed, feeling her muscles relax into his warm grip, pulling the sheets over each other. Letting her feet stretch, she gave a little kick to her textbooks, edging the goddamn things off her mattress. She yawned, “Mm, I’m tired, though. Dreaming does sound nice.” 

Vernon poked her cheek, their faces centimeters from each other. Despite how tired he was, his bright carmine eyes were glowing like liquid gold. “All jokes aside, I’m happy to say I’m happy you can be my dream, and my reality.” he murmured, tenderly pressing his lips to her forehead. 

One Hundred Ways to Say “I Love You” (no more please!) 

Hockey Camp - Auston Matthews (Part 4)

Auston Matthews x Reader

Word Count: 1760

Warnings: Some swearing

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

A/N: Wow! First of all, I’d like to personally thank everyone who’s liked this story, I just started writing it one day at work while I was bored and decided the other afternoon to post it, and never thought I’d get a response, let alone a positive one - so thank you!

I honestly had so much fun writing this chapter, it made me nostalgic for hockey practices with my teammates when we used to fool around and try and get each other in trouble. (I miss playing so much).

Hope you enjoy!

PART FOUR

Practice gets off to a hectic start. Firstly, you can’t find your neck guard while getting dressed (it’s stuck to the inside of your jersey, which you didn’t notice until after you put it on and felt something weird touching your ribs). Because of this, you’re late getting on the ice, and miss your chance to warm up before the coach calls everybody over to explain the first drill. One of your favourite parts of practice is having a nice long warm up skate to stretch out and loosen your muscles from the day before.

You try not to let it frazzle you, but you can’t seem to focus properly. You keep losing the puck and making bad passes, and your entire body feels tight and uncomfortable. Steph notices, and skates over to you while you wait for your turn in a passing drill.

“Hey, everything alright?”

“Not really,” you confess. “My muscles are all super sore and I missed warm-up because I couldn’t find my neck guard in time.”

“Relax. Everyone has an off day. Plus, it’s only day two. They understand that we’re all still adjusting to how hard the camp is on our bodies.”

You nod, actually trying to take in what Steph is saying instead of denying it and having a negative attitude like you always do. “Thanks, Steph.”

The coach blows his whistle, and you grab a puck, racing around the circle. You take a wristshot, nailing the top left hand corner. It’s the first time you’ve scored all practice.

But there’s no time to celebrate - the drill isn’t over yet. You stop in front of the net, fighting for position with the defenseman and trying to block the goalie from seeing the puck. You manage to shift to just the right spot and create an effective screen, as you hear the puck fired by your defenseman hit the back of the net. Two for two.

You maintain your screen as your forward partner rounds the other circle and takes the shot. He snaps it quickly with his stick, sneaking it past the goalie’s outstretched pad and hitting the lower left corner of the net.

“Breakout, breakout!” The centre yells. He’s been waiting off to the side until the first part of the drill was over. He picks up another puck. You and the other winger switch lanes, and the centre sends the puck hurtling hard towards you.

But you’re ready.

You receive the pass with soft hands and look up to see a defender already on top of you. Normally, most people would panic, but you know you’re faster. You flick your head to the right, faking the defender out, and then chip the puck off the boards to the left, skating around her before picking up the puck.

“Middle!”

With a quick look, you make a saucer pass over the other defender’s stick to your centre. He receives it and dekes the goalie out, neatly tucking it in the top right corner. Four for four.

“Nice one!” the centre skates over to you and gives you a high-five. You’re surprised by how youthful he looks. He must be around six feet tall, but his gangly build and pre-pubescent face make him look like an adorable oversized puppy.

“Thank-you,” you say, smiling at him. “Nice shot you’ve got there.”

“Thanks!” he replies brightly, his positive energy contagious. “You’ve got some great passing skills. I’m Mitch, by the way.”

“Y/N.” You nod your head by way of greeting.

Mitch opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the coach blowing the whistle. “Two laps, then take a break for water!”

Everyone abandons the drill and begins to skate hard around the perimeter of the rink. You finish your two laps, among the leaders of the pack, and cruise over to the bench to grab some water.

You’re about to pick up your bottle when somebody nudges you.

“Hello again!”

You turn and look up to see Mitch’s smiling face.

“Oh hey! We meet once more.” You pour some water into your mouth, and Mitch does the same.

“Practice is real tough today, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding. “And it’s only day two. Next thing you know, they’ll be making us bag skate.”

Mitch’s eyes widen, horrified. “Don’t say that too loudly, or they’ll get ideas.”

You laugh.

“I thought I was fit before I came here. My, did I have a rude awakening yesterday. The only person I know that isn’t dying right now is him.” Mitch points to a tall guy with his back turned to you. “Total hotshot,” he says sarcastically, and proceeds to poke the blade of his stick into the guy’s armpit.

“What the-!” the guy yelps, turning around. “Mitch, what the fuck, dude?”

Mitch laughs and you take a closer look at the guy. Of course.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Auston says, his eyes lighting up. He smiles at you and your heart jumps a little.

“You two have met?”

“Yeah,” you explain quickly. “We’re acquainted.” You immediately want to slap yourself. Who even says ‘we’re acquainted’? You sound like a grandmother.

The coach blows his whistle sharply. “Auston, Mitch, and Y/N. Since you are all obviously more concerned with chatting than listening like everybody else, perhaps you three would like to demonstrate the next drill?”

“Sure coach!” Mitch says enthusiastically. You and Auston exchange a look.

The coach frowns. “Get yourselves in positions,” he barks. “I don’t care who’s normally centre or left wing or whatever. Decide fast. I want you guys to break out of the zone quick, weave at least twice before you hit the red line. Then you can worry about stickhandling around the defender. This drill is all about passing, positioning, and teamwork.” He turns back to the group of players kneeling on the ice. “If only two out of three forwards touches the puck in this drill, you can forget about shooting. There is no excuse for not being able to make at least three passes before you get to the offensive zone. Got it?”

Everyone else nods.

“I need an answer.”

“Yes!” the group responds.

“Alright.” The coach blows his whistle loudly. “Y/N, Auston, Mitch. Take it away.”

Since you and Auston both shoot left-handed and Mitch shoots right, Mitch moves over to right wing, while you take your regular left wing position, and Auston gets centre.

Without any hesitation, Auston picks up a puck, loops around the net, and fires it over to Mitch, who’s already picked up a considerable amount of speed. Shit, they’re really fast.

You hustle over towards the centre of the ice, and Mitch does the same. You get so close to each other, for a split second you think you’re going to crash, but then Mitch side-steps an inch to the left and makes a drop pass. You pick it up with ease, and in no more than a second, you’re on the right wing, ready to pass it to Auston. You fire the puck low and flat across the ice as hard as you can, but Auston receives it so softly, he makes your pass look weaker than it is.

He and Mitch weave in and out with each other, appearing completely at ease. The way they’re so aware of each other’s position on the ice without having to look makes it obvious that they have played together for a while.

You end up with the puck as you cross the blue line. You consider taking a shot, but the goalie’s far out in his crease, making for an easy save.

Then you get an idea.

You pick up speed, pretending like you’re going in to shoot. The goalie backs into his crease correspondingly, covering less of the net. You wind up but then stop halfway, quickly using your backhand to drop pass it back to Auston, who you know is directly behind you. You barely have a second to jump away before Auston wires a slapshot into the right side of the net.

“Yeah baby!” Mitch whoops, bringing you and Auston in for a celebratory group hug. His long arms wrap around both your shoulders. “Great job team.”

You smile widely and Auston rolls his eyes.

“Mitch, please stop touching me. Your gloves stink and the smell is gonna make me puke.”

Mitch feigns obliviousness. “What, my gloves?” He shoves both his hands in Auston’s face. “They smell like roses!”

Auston smacks Mitch’s hands away, but Mitch immediately tries to shove them in his face again. The two begin play-fighting, and much to your amusement, Mitch manages to get Auston in a headlock, trapping the taller and stronger boy under his birdlike arms. Eventually they end up on the ground, laughing so hard they can’t move anymore.

You stare down at them, shaking your head. “You guys are idiots.”

Mitch scrambles to his feet, pushing his helmet back down on his head. A goofy grin is plastered across his face. “Why thank-you. I take pride in being an idiot.”

As Auston stands up, he reaches over and smacks Mitch on the back of the head. 

Mitch turns around to face him. “You wanna go again bro? You wanna fight? Huh? Come at me,” Mitch taunts Auston, throwing his gloves down to the ice. When Auston doesn’t respond, he shoves his chest. “You scared? Why’re you so scared of me, huh?”

“Mitchell Marner!”

You all turn your heads to look at the coach.

“Why are your gloves off? Stop fucking around and get back in line, or you’ll be doing laps after practice!” He glares at the three of you and mutters to himself before turning around.

“Yes sir!” Mitch grabs his gloves and salutes the coach’s back.

“Ooh, someone got in trouble,” Auston teases.

“You started it.”

“Your gloves started it, actually. If you washed them for once in your life, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“But washing your equipment is bad luck!”

“Guys, c’mon,” you beg, laughing. “I don’t really feel like doing any more laps today.”

“Yeah,” Auston agrees. He elbows Mitch in the ribs.

“Ow.”

“Listen to the girl, she’s got a point.”

‘Listen to the girl, she’s got a point’” Mitch mocks Auston. “You’re just saying that because you li-”

Mitch is cut off as Auston clamps his glove over Mitch’s mouth, muffling his words.

“I swear to god Marner, if one more word comes out of that big mouth of yours I’ll-”

“Alright, that’s it!” the coach bellows. “You three - I want 10 laps, now! Everyone else is free to leave.”

You glare at the both of them. “Way to go guys.”

[Part 5]

Things a Luthor Does Not Do

I actually forgot to post this here… LIke, I’m really bad at being organized. Anyways:

A Luthor does not cry.

A Luthor does not beg.

A Luthor does not kneel.

A Luthor does not show weakness.

A Luthor does not love.

It lasts until Kara Danvers comes along.


A Luthor does not cry.

Lena learns such thing one week into the Luthor’s household.

She’s five. She’s terrified. She cries. A lot. Never in front of Ms. Luthor, never again in front of Ms. Luthor. Not after the first night.

At five years old, memories are still too vivid in her mind. Her parents smiles’, her parents laughs’, and it’s too much. The hole in her chest is too much.

When Lillian, no, when Ms. Luthor finds her one morning, hands clutching at the duvet and sobs escaping her lips, she barely acknowledges her pain. She’s met with cold eyes and an unwavering voice.

A Luthor does not cry.

Lena learns. Lena follows. Lena tilts her head up, her back way too straight for a seven years old. It takes her two years but she learns. She doesn’t cry.

Not when Lionel dies when she’s eleven and she stands at a eighteen years old Lex’s side, jaw clenched and eyes fixed on a point far way, never focusing on any of the reporters.

Not when she’s sent away for boarding school because, once Lionel is no longer around, mother doesn’t have to pretend to love her.

Not when Lex becomes what he becomes.

She just stares at it all, chin up, settled eyes and unwavering voice. Just like mother. Because a Luthor can be sad, but it can never be shown or heard.

But Kara Danvers appears in her life. Kara Danvers with her bright smile. Kara Danvers with her blushing cheeks. Kara Danvers with her sweet eyes.

Keep reading

Imagine meeting Cerberus for the first time. Let’s say in the vain of Hades’ love ending (where you/Yui ended up living in the Underworld with him). 

Imagine you exploring your new home more or less alone when you find the three headed beast. 

Imagine the way the saliva glistens off the sharp teeth and the low growl from Cerberus’ three throats. 

Imagine Hades’ surprise when he finds the two (four?) of you, with Cerberus belly up as you give them the best belly rub they’ve ever had and you asking “who the cutest little three headed baby is in all the underworld?” in the Baby Voice™

Imagine you regarding the hell hound as nothing more than an oversize puppy. Cerberus would do anything for you except let you and Hades have ~alone time~.

The shades are given even more reason not to mess with you after that.

thecourtneycampaign  asked:

Maybe some domestic Supercorp? After a long day of heroing and reporting, and CEOing. I love the idea of Lena being a fabulous cook, and baker, because science. Also, perhaps a hint of kitchen sexytimes? Bisous!

So, I’m terrible at writing sexytimes…I’ve tried a few times and it always ends in disaster with a lot of secondhand embarrassment for me, so I had to settle with just some fluffy domesticity. 

I hope you like it.

The first thing Kara noticed when she flew in through the open balcony doors to Lena’s penthouse apartment was the smell of something delicious cooking. Lena wasn’t in the living room working on business or research or playing Skyrim on her Xbox. She ventured further into the house, checking the bedroom and office before coming to stop in the doorway of the kitchen.

She was used to seeing Robert, her girlfriend’s personal chef, some nights making dinner for the two of them unless they were getting takeout, so she was surprised for find Lena standing at the stove in a pair of very short, very tight track shorts and her own oversized National City University hoodie with her hair up in a messy bun.

Her back was turned to Kara and she was listening to whatever music was playing through her earbuds so she had a moment to just observe the woman before she was spotted. Kara smiled upon hearing her hum the rhythm of the song; she listened in for a moment to hear the familiar sounds of “From Eden.” It was one of Lena’s favorites as of recently.

After another moment, she finally moved into the kitchen, making sure to be loud enough to announce her presence over the music playing in her ears so she didn’t scare the smaller woman. She walked until she was standing behind the CEO and wrapped her arms around her waist, placing herself flush against her backside and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. She could feel Lena smile and lean ever so slightly back against her. She took out her headphones and paused the music.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” she was intrigued. Lena only hummed in the affirmative. “I don’t have the patience. I usually end up burning everything…”

“I started learning from our personal chef when I was younger, before Lillian found out of course, but then I was sent to boarding school in Ireland and didn’t have the time, or a kitchen for that matter. When I took a year off between my masters and my doctorate, I spent time traveling and learned a lot from the locals in France and Italy,” she could hear the nostalgia in her voice.

“Whatcha makin’,” Kara asked, lips still brushing against her neck.

“Bistecca alla fiorentina and panzanella salad,” she said, a perfect accent to accompany the Italian dish. She simply hummed her approval against her neck, kissing her again. Lena finally turned around to capture her lips properly.

After a moment, she pulled away. “Go get changed. Dinner will be ready in a second.”

The oversized puppy still wrapped around her groaned before reluctantly pulling away and heading off to the bedroom to change out of the Supergirl suit.