“Okay, no more arguing, I’ve chosen the best pick for tonight’s movie—”

“—I thought we were voting?” Asami cut in.

“Honey, please, this blows everyone’s picks out of the water!”

Korra stood excitedly before you and Asami, grinning. The three of you were in Asami’s home theatre. In her hands was a VHS tape with a custom cover—an old movie case with its original sleeve removed and refurbished with a custom one in looping cursive:

Korra’s Tournament Wins.

It was the most high-spirited Korra had been in months, ever since her injury left her temporarily paralyzed. She was back on her feet again, making impressive, neck-breaking progress under the guidance of her latest physical therapist: the legendary Toph Beifong.

Neither you nor Asami were privy to how those sessions went, but they were far from conventional. Her mental health had also started to recover.

“Are you amazed yet?” Korra asked proudly, waving the tape around like a trophy. “It’s a compilation reel of my pro-bending take-downs. In slow-mo, complete with professional close-ups. Thank you, hold your applause.”

She bows dramatically and grins. “Bolin sent the tape in the mail. Don’t ask me how, but we’re watching this now.”

Asami sat to your right, a bowl of buttery popcorn balanced comfortably on her lap, the fur blanket draped over you both. The fireplace crackled somewhere off to the side as she pressed against you in a familiar and affectionate lean.

“I might’ve encouraged Bolin,” she murmured near your ear in a conspiratorial whisper. “Korra’s been miserable since quitting pro-bending. I didn’t think Bolin would actually dig up a tape.” A beat. “But we’re fortunate my dad hoards obsolete technology like a VCR.”

Across the room, Korra had aggressively shoved the tape into the VCR and was now impatiently jabbing buttons while cursing under her breath.

“Stupid archaic tech,” she snapped, “quit rewinding! Play, play already—”

Asami rose quickly with a snort, leaving the bowl of popcorn in your lap. “Careful. Old tech can be vindictive,” she joked.

She gently nudged Korra aside, slid the tape out and rewound it manually, before slipping it back in. The screen flickered to life.

Korra gaped. “Hey, I almost had it, Ms. Tech-Bender.”

Asami just smiled slyly, patted Korra’s shoulder sympathetically, before the two of them dropped down on either side of you where they belonged.