#it's impossible to nap in that dang apartment

[suddenly-stickmin]

can you draw rupert trying to be nice to dave for a change (johnny TOTALLY didnt force him) /nf

Anon thank you for the best request ever

[asimovsideburns]

okay I’m starting this at 1:49am BUT I don’t want to wait until after I sleep because I just can’t trust that I’ll remember stuff!!!

dnd summary session 6, featuring many character choices and my personal all-time high Chaos Count:

Okay, first thing is that we are tapped out of spell slots, so we decide to take a quick 8-hour nap. It’s like… noon. We’ve had a big day so far (docks disaster, tavern trickery, monastery mystery/palace… uh… perception checks? I can’t think of a good alliteration for that one)

Iraelin (and Bermuda) only need four hours of sleep. Naturally I pull my own flavor of an Axford Elf Special and rest for four hours, cast Aid on the sleeping party without telling anybody, and then trance for four hours again to get the spell slot back (Aid lasts for 8 hours, so it’s basically 4 free hours of bonus max hp)

While most people are sleeping, Ferris decides to go buy some chairs for their apartment (remember: no furniture except a single small table with a bowl of dry beans)

Ferris buys 5 really bad chairs for 26 gold total (highway robbery!!! that’s more than we’re each getting paid per day to investigate an assassination plot on the princess!)

They do not match. They are all bad. OOC I suggest that Ferris choose who gets each chair (Chaos Count: 1). I don’t remember the exact descriptions of each one but I do know that Iraelin’s looked like it was definitely supposed to have four legs, but only had three because the spacing was bad and putting a fourth on would make it even more unstable, and the back was so low it was basically a stool. Ferris paid 5 gold for it, which is 250% the daily income of a skilled hireling. Iraelin decided to continue standing.

We definitely spent at least ten minutes describing and distributing the chairs. This is my fault, and I am not sorry.

After that we head to Ferris’s dad’s house for dinner and also to ask him to help us. Ferris brings a bag of apples they bought while everybody was sleeping. This is good, because Ferris has correctly identified apples as a form of food. Apparently there has been some misunderstandings over what is and is not food in the past.

Ferris grabs the spare key and just lets us into their dad’s house. Ferris’s dad is extremely chill, despite the fact that his 8 year old adult robot child just brought over five weirdos for dinner without asking. Introductions are made, some less awkwardly than others. Ferris immediately tells their dad literally all the secrets. Iraelin takes this as a teachable moment on “not everybody needs to know everything, even the people you trust, sometimes it’s safer that way”. He seems cool though so he probably won’t tell anybody that his 8 year old adult robot child shot the princess with lightning. He’s also apparently big into parenting books and trying to be a good dad to literally the first warforged in the world.

We have dinner and get him to agree to build a robot that has true sight for us so we can read this dang clue, although it will take a few days. Also, he and Ferris jokingly argue about the fact that he was unable to give Ferris a soul. OOC, I mention that we are dealing with warlocks who work for an archdevil, Ferris getting their hands on somebody else’s soul is not entirely impossible. (Chaos Count: 2)

After dinner we go to the boat of the guy that the princess was going to meet. I decide that Iraelin has literally never been on a boat before. We are suitably intimidating, and get to go inside so randos can’t hear us talk. It is a very small room.

The dwarf who turned invisible… this morning? I think? Pretty sure. Anyway, he’s not here. It’s just the friend (Austin, half elf), a different dwarf (Cassandra(?)), and a dragonborn, all of whom were together last time we saw them.

I make it clear that if they don’t start trouble, we won’t have trouble. I let them know I’d like to cast a spell, the dragonborn gets huffy and goes for a walk (he’s definitely suspicious, but I’m playing it cool). Zone of Truth, bada bing bada boom, important question time.

We find out that Austin is, basically, just unwitting bait. He knows nothing about the conspiracy, he’s been captain of the ship for two years, he’s known Cassandra since he was little (relationship seems to be that she’s his babysitter), the other dwarf and the dragonborn came onboard a year ago—together.

Well, suspicion basically confirmed, that dragonborn is headed off to report to the cult/conspiracy/whatever

I invite Austin to come with us for protection. He invokes his pride. I tell him some extremely scary facts about these people. He swallows his pride. He can’t or won’t go onto palace grounds for some reason, so we go to the tavern where we got hired and send someone to get the boss.

She gets there, I give up some of the info, basically tell her to trust no one but us and the princess, she has to act like she’s clueless as to the danger, there’s likely a traitor very highly placed in the castle, we’re dealing at best indirectly with a fucking archduke of hell, also Austin here (who she definitely recognizes) needs to go into super ultimate witness protection right now immediately. Not exactly in that order, though—I don’t want Austin to know everything we know, just in case the bad guys get their hands on him.

DOWNTIME!!!! Love downtime. Never had a chance to do downtime before. Downtime is good and my friend.

Bermuda goes and hangs out at the monastery to “do monk stuff” which is. yeah that’s exactly how Bermuda would say that.

Ferris is planning on searching for more info on Mammon. Ferris goes to a public library. Ferris asks for “the restricted section”. Ferris reads some books. Ferris knows what sex and pornography are now. Ferris is very upset by this. Ferris goes to a different, academic library and finds zip, so they head back to the monastery library where they do find info on Mammon’s symbol (which is what they were looking for), in case we ever run into it.

Rockie hangs out with the palace guard and trains with them. He is fully not supposed to be there. And yet… he is a very charming bugbear. He does shield work and is the right combination of very good and willing to help but also humble and willing to learn, and on a pretty good persuasion check becomes bros with the guards and now has +1 to all interactions with palace guards

Atlas and Chloe go to the address of the divine soul sorcerer mentioned in the scroll Atlas found. It’s in the rich district. They both live in the slums, but they both grew up here. Neither of them know this about the other. Atlas is having a full on panic attack.

It goes well! The sorcerer still lives there (not guaranteed) and it turns out she’s a retired adventurer who like. Went to the celestial plane and met her celestial ancestor, among other things. A hundred-ish years ago, she was a Big Deal (in the circles that knew about her), but she’s retired now. She and Atlas are going to be pen pals now. Love a mentor figure!!! OOC I suggest that they meet up for Sunday brunch every week, and then I suggest that we Parent Trap this lady with Ferris’s dad. (Chaos Count: 3)

Iraelin does a couple of things. 1) gotta see my patients, do checkups, stuff like that. 2) went to the temple of Eilistraee (my god) which is basically just a shrine in the home of the person who tends it (me and the dm are on the EXACT SAME WAVELENGTH here, she suggested it before I even could). I consult some religious texts smuggled out of the Underdark for info on Mammon, but no dice. 3) my big thing >:)

See, I’d already established with the dm that there is a small community of expatriate drow in my neighborhood. Naturally, they have get-togethers where we have traditional drow food, play drow music—basically a way to feel connected to your culture in a place where that’s really hard. Iraelin goes when she can because she misses her home, but at the same time she feels out of place because most of these people escaped pretty bad lives in the Underdark, and she feel guilty that she was one of the people who was basically on top of society (this is a secret, nobody knows this).

It’s also a potluck. This is where I decide that Iraelin does not know how to cook. She doesn’t have a kitchen, so the (drow) owner of the tavern she rents a room from lets her use the tavern kitchen (at least partially because he’s pretty sure she’ll burn something down if she tries to cool unsupervised). The food she makes is always nearly inedible. It’s burned, and somehow both soggy and dry? Really over salted, other seasoning and herbs and things nonexistent. Truly awful. I think they’re nice to her about it though. Like, at this point it’s more about contributing something to the gathering than it is about making something edible.

Also, I didn’t think about / remember this during the session, but she plays the Viol. She doesn’t own one, though, so I think there’s like, communal instruments at the gathering and that’s the only time she gets to play. Also I want her to spread some of the wealth around from what she’s getting paid by the palace; donation to the shrine for letting her look at the scrolls, a few gold to drow who are having a hard time, stuff like that.

OKAY back to what actually did happen in the session

There are a few drow children, who were born in the city and are growing up here. They’re very precious to the community, and they’re kind of given the run of the block (you know, within a safe area)

One of them, about 16, catches my attention and heads out into the hallway. I follow.

She confides in me that another kid approached her, about a year and a half ago, and offered her a way to get magic (rare and generally frowned on in the city). I have magic, her mom (the paladin in charge of the shrine) has magic, and she wanted magic, too—it’s helpful, it keeps you safe, it makes you special. She went to these meetings, and at first it was fun, but then it started to get scary. She specifically mentions red cloaks, an outfit associated with the people we’re looking for.

Oh my GOD I am hugging her. I am hugging her SO HARD. This poor child. I tell her that I appreciate what she’s told me. I also tell her that I won’t make decisions for her, but that what these people take in exchange for power is more than she wants to give. If she wants magic, I’m willing to teach her. And also, I think that she should talk to her parents. They love her, they want what’s best for her, they want her to be safe. When I’m done with the thing I’m caught up in, we can start doing lessons and see if she takes more after her mom’s line of work or mine. Everything’s going to be okay.

End session.

There are some after session shenanigans in the debrief, but the really important thing is that it was suggested that we get to the celestial plane somehow and I said we should do a three way Parent Trap with Ferris’s dad, the retired sorcerer mentor, and Atlas’s celestial ancestor (Chaos Count: 4)

Oh and also if any of us die our backup character is the girl from my immortal (fanfic) so the dm says we’re all canonically unkillable now

Also I’ve just realized that I’ve gone from extorting children to supporting children in six sessions that span two in game days

The extortion was a life lesson okay it wasn’t about the money

It was a little about the money, I didn’t have a sweet 20 gp/day gig yet

A life lesson, a little about the money, and also a bit on principle because the kid lied to me to get me to go somewhere

[tharroswrites]

Quiet Gratitude

Kacchako Week 2018 Day Two: Domiciliary

Read on AO3

This is definitely going to be a two-shot, maybe even a three-shot, and will definitely have a chapter for the prompt “Stars” and maybe one for the prompt “Unity.” We’ll see.

Bakugou Katsuki marched into her apartment like he owned the place.

Stepping out of his shoes and kicking them into the closet by the door, he didn’t spare Uraraka a glance—she, with her hand still on the knob and her mouth half-open in a question that got stuck in her throat.

He strode through the open kitchen to the left and into the living area beyond it, dumping his backpack on the small dining table behind the couch like he’d done it a hundred times before.

Only once he’d pulled the folder from inside the bag and spread the contents on the table did he turn to Uraraka, still at the door, to give her one of those looks that said ‘move your ass or I’ll move it for you.’

“What—”

“Villain,” he said, jabbing a calloused finger onto the papers before him. “Case file. Keep up.”

“Keep up?” she asked, finally closing the door and trailing after him. “I didn’t realize we’d started.”

He sighed heavily through his nose, like a bull before a matador, as if she were the one wasting his day off. As if she had been the one to show up at his apartment unannounced with only vague explanations and a bad attitude.

“My shitty partner didn’t want the case, so I told Ryukyu I’d do it by myself.”

A bold move, Uraraka thought, her eyebrows flicking upward. She’d been brought on as a sidekick at Ryukyu’s agency right after graduation, Bakugou several months later when no better offers were made. Even as his technical superior, Uraraka wouldn’t have the gall to just tell Ryukyu that she was going to do what she wanted. Then again, that was probably why Bakugou was always the one hogging the spotlight.

And yet.

“How does 'doing it by yourself’ bring you here?” she asked, the corner of her mouth twitching up just slightly because she already knew the answer. He would never say it in so many words, but he needed help.

As suspected, he shot her a look and didn’t bother with an answer.

“How did you even get my address?” She went to the tv and turned it off, resigning herself to an afternoon spent with Bakugou instead of the relaxing one she’d had planned. Grabbing her coffee, now cold, from the low table in front of the couch, she plopped down in a chair at the rarely used dining table instead and pulled one knee up to her chest.

“Asui.”

“Tsuyu,” Uraraka corrected automatically, and Bakugou 'tched.’

Pythagoras, her grey and orange tabby cat, dashed from the bedroom (where he’d taken refuge when Bakugou’s demanding knock had scared him out of a nap) and jumped into Uraraka’s lap.

Bakugou spared the cat a single, disgusted glance and said to Uraraka, “You would.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and scratched Pythagoras behind the ears.

“Anyway,” he half-growled, shifting some of the papers around until he found a sketch of a man, probably in his early thirties, with unkempt black hair and blue-grey eyes. “Recognize him?”

“No…”

He pulled out photos then, surveillance cameras from shops and ATMs mostly. They weren’t great quality, but in all of them, there was man who at least resembled the sketch.

“Each of these photos,” Bakugou said, laying them out in front of her one by one, “was taken the day before the League of Villains attacked these locations. Mostly petty crime, but this was where Toga’s gang attacked Suneater and Blitz on their regularly scheduled patrol.”

“So you think this guy is somehow setting up for the others to commit their crimes?” Uraraka asked, taking the last photo from the pile: a camera on the corner of a lesser city block that she recognized from the news—Suneater and Blitz had fought off Toga, Twice, and some other Leaguers that Uraraka wasn’t overly familiar with. They made it out, but by the time backup arrived, Toga and the others had gotten away.

Bakugou shook his head, and the annoyed grimace he gave her was the closest he ever really got to saying 'I don’t know.’

“Any ideas as to his Quirk?”

“Nothing,” Bakugou said, running a frustrated hand through his hair and finally sitting down.

He had no clue how out of place he looked, with his sleek athletic pants and tight-fitting, name brand, black tank top, among her hand-me-down furniture and next to her in her shorts and t-shirt that had been washed so many times it was nearly impossible to know what their original colors had been.

But the thought would never cross his mind—not when there were villains to hunt down, so Uraraka pulled her short hair into a ponytail and began rummaging through the sparse information he’d brought with him.

“Is there a map?” she asked after a moment. “You know, pinpointing the locations of these sightings?”

“Everything I’ve got is here, shit-wit,” he said, leaning back in the chair and rubbing his eyes. “I was up all night just getting this together.”

Uraraka held up a finger and hopped out of her seat. “I bet I’ve got a city map here somewhere…”

She went into the kitchen and began digging through the drawers where she kept letters, cards, old newspapers, magazines, anything paper that she didn’t want to recycle. And sure enough, under a stack of holiday cards from Yaomomo (she sent cards for every occasion), Uraraka found a bent and slightly faded map of the city that she’d bought when she moved into her first apartment after getting into U.A. In another drawer, she found a black marker and brought both items back to Bakugou.

“All right,” she said, stacking up the pictures in order to make room for the map, which she unfolded and spread across the table. Bakugou sat up straight as she did so, but it was then she noticed the bags under his eyes, the tired set of his mouth. Even his hair didn’t seem as spiky as usual. “Want some coffee?”

“No. I’m not tired.”

Uraraka returned to the kitchen and began to heat water, popping her own cold coffee in the microwave as she did so. The counter was all that divided the kitchen from the living room, and Bakugou gave her a sour look over it.

She’d seen him do this before—work himself until he dropped. He was so desperate to move up from sidekick to hero to number one that he often forgot to take care of himself. This time, at least, he’d asked for help (as much as Bakugou Katsuki could ask another person for anything) and she thought it might be the least she could do to keep him from collapsing.

But she also knew that Bakugou would never accept someone helping him purely for the sake of it or—gods forbid—because they thought he needed it, so she returned his glare as she scooped instant coffee powder into an All Might mug.

“You came here, remember?” she said, adding a bit more edge to her voice than she would’ve with anyone else. “We’ve got a villain to track and I’m not going to have you holding me back. So drink the dang coffee or leave.”

She had one hand on her hip and the other stirring the hot water into the cup, and Bakugou, for once, couldn’t out-glare her, so he sighed and clicked his tongue, but made no further protest.

He did give her a skeptical look when he saw the grinning face of their former teacher on his mug, but before he could comment, there was a knock at the door. Pythagoras jumped into Bakugou’s lap only to be shoved back to the floor, and Uraraka ignored them both as she went to see who else could possibly be at her apartment.

“Oh! Mrs. Takahashi!” she exclaimed upon opening the door to her squat, middle-aged neighbor. The woman was kind and big-hearted, and often invited Uraraka over for dinner when she knew the young hero was short on money.

“Kaiya, dear,” she said, as she did every time Uraraka addressed her by her family name. “I heard raised voices and I wanted to make sure everything was—oh. Oh my.”

Uraraka felt her face make the jump straight to fire engine red as Mrs. Takahashi peered around her and spotted Bakugou sitting at the dining table.

Before she could even begin to explain, the older woman was clapping her hands and grinning like Christmas came early.

“I didn’t realize you had a guest! And such a handsome one!”

“It’s not like—”

“I hope you’re not planning on giving him that instant coffee you always buy!” she hissed, though the effect was lost as she was still loud enough for Bakugou to hear. “Where did you meet such a man? Is he a hero, too?”

Mrs. Takahashi was working herself into a world of her own design and all Uraraka could do was stand there and wonder if Bakugou would explode her head if she asked him to. She might not need him, honestly, with as hot as her face was getting—her brain could be oozing out of her ears from the heat.

“Um—”

“I’ll go make some snacks for the two of you, okay?” Her eyes were bright as she peeked around Uraraka, who was trying to take up as much of the doorframe as possible, to get another look at her 'guest.’ “I’ll be back, Ochako, dear.”

“You don’t have to—” But Mrs. Takahashi was already half-skipping back to her own door and Uraraka pressed her palm over her eyes and sighed. “Thanks…I think.”

Uraraka turned around and shut the door, her face still hot and glowing as she looked at Bakugou, who was draining his coffee in gulps and, she thought, pretending that he hadn’t heard anything. He set the mug back on the table and looked into it with a frown.

“That tasted like shit.”

“You get used to it.”

He gave her a look and she sank back into the chair beside him, content to go along with his supposed moment of deafness.

“Okay, not really,” she admitted, exasperated because she was so flustered. “But it’s cheap!”

Something seemed to dawn on him then, and he gave her apartment a sweeping, analytic glance that he hadn’t bothered with at first. It wasn’t in the best part of town, and certainly not as nice or spacious as his apartment (which she’d been to once when Kirishima came up with an ill-conceived plan to throw Bakugou a surprise birthday party). The windows were open and the fans on, even though summer still clung to the late September air and she should probably have the air conditioning running.

And for once, Uraraka was glad that Bakugou didn’t really care about other people because he didn’t comment on any of it, just grabbed some of the photos and tossed her the marker.

“The first sighting I could find was in July, near the 37 block downtown,” he said, holding up the picture while she found the spot on the map. She circled it and wrote the date from the timestamp. “And the next was near Ryukyu’s offices. That ATM outside that shitty ice cream place, you know, the one with—”

“Pickle-flavored frozen yogurt?” Uraraka finished, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

“Yeah.”

“I know the place. Hado loves it.”

“The fuck?”

“I know,” Uraraka said, laughing a bit. She and Hado were partners, and there had been many times when the older girl wanted to stop in that shop for a treat after work. “She loves everything though, so I guess it isn’t saying much.”

Bakugou snorted and picked up the next picture. “This is some street camera I couldn’t get an actual location on. But in the background there, doesn’t that look like—”

“Heights Alliance.”

“From the back, yeah.”

“The closest shopping district to U.A. is about half a kilometer south of campus. Which, judging by the orientation of the building…” Uraraka paused, using her fingers to test angles on the map. “Would put that camera somewhere between here,” she drew a small dot on the first street of the shopping district. “And here.” She put another dot several streets down and connected them with a circle.

She looked at Bakugou and was surprised to see something like relief flitting across his face, but he worked his features back into a scowl when he noticed her looking and 'tched.’

“I like geometry,” she said, fighting a smile because that was probably one of the reasons he came to her in the first place. “Shut up.”

They were almost done marking the map with Mrs. Takahashi knocked on the door again. And Uraraka sighed and threw Bakugou an apologetic glance that he ignored as he took the marker from her.

She’d barely turned the knob when the older woman pushed through the door, grinning widely and heading into the kitchen with tray of tea and sandwiches.

“So are you going to introduce me?” Mrs. Takahashi whisper-shouted.

Uraraka brought her hands up in front of her face and waved them back and forth. “That’s really not a good idea—”

“Nonsense, sweetie, I’m sure he’s wonderful!” She put a hand beside her mouth, as if that would somehow prevent Bakugou from hearing any of it. “I mean look at him! And if you’re comfortable dressing like…well like that around him, it seems pretty locked down to me!”

For the second time that day, Uraraka was stunned into standing in place with her mouth hanging open, and Mrs. Takahashi walked right up to Bakugou like he wasn’t a fire breathing rage monster and introduced herself.

“Call me Kaiya,” she said, grinning ear to ear and close enough to Bakugou that Uraraka genuinely feared for the woman’s safety.

So Uraraka thought she’d actually managed to melt her own brain from embarrassment when Bakugou simply said, “Katsuki. Thanks for the food.”

Mrs. Takahashi squealed like Aoyama on costume upgrade day at U.A. and practically danced out of Uraraka’s apartment.

Uraraka stood in the kitchen and stared at Bakugou like he’d grown an extra head. A polite, reasonable extra head.

“Chill, you fucking weirdo,” he said in a 180 turn back to normal. “I figured that would be the fastest way to make her leave.”

Uraraka blinked. He wasn’t wrong.

“What, you think I can’t be fucking polite?”

“Well, that statement is pretty good proof—”

Bakugou pushed himself up from the table and came to stand beside her. He plucked a sandwich from the tray and studied it as he said, “I choose not to bother with stupid shit like that because it’s usually a waste of everyone’s time. Things would be better if people just said what they wanted and got it over with.”

“But in this situation it was to your benefit to be nice.”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you want to be a hero?” The words came out before she really had a chance to think about them, but since she was probably going to implode from embarrassment at any moment, she might as well go out with a bang. “I mean…do you want to save people? Or do you just want to be the best at something quantifiable?”

Bakugou popped the sandwich in his mouth and grabbed the whole tray to bring back to the table with him. “That falls under 'small talk,’ and 'small talk’ falls under 'politeness.’ And we’ve still got work to do.”

Uraraka really didn’t consider a question like that to be small talk, but she was thankful enough that he hadn’t completely offended her favorite neighbor that she didn’t push the issue.

When they finished marking the map, they both sat back and stared at it for a moment.

“Er…” Uraraka began, blinking a few times in the hope that maybe she was missing some crucial pattern. “Does this…mean anything?”

“Other than that this guy is fucking erratic? I don’t think so.” He looked as perplexed as she felt, though he was clearly trying no to show it as he dragged the map further toward him and hunched over it, his usual uncharacteristically good posture forgotten in his frustration.

“Okay, new approach then,” said Uraraka. She took a sandwich from the tray and spoke through a mouthful of bread. “A lot of these instances occurred near pro heroes offices—or U.A.—so what about the ones that didn’t? Is there something that connects those to heroes somehow?”

The new train of thought energized him a bit and flipped through the photos again, dividing them into two piles.

“We know this one fell on Suneater and Blitz’s patrol route,” he said, taking the top image from the smaller stack and adding it to the larger. “And the first responder to this attack was Mt. Lady, who was at a hair appointment in the salon on this street.”

Uraraka jotted notes on the backs of the photos as he talked.

When he finished, they had a pro hero for each attack, and Uraraka sat back in her chair and let out a breath.

“So it’s possible that our suspect is confirming that heroes will be on the scene before the attacks happen, but why?”

“And whose side is he really on?” Bakugou asked. “Because he could be confirming that heroes are there so that people don’t get hurt, or he could be planning on taking heroes down or—”

“Or showing incompetence in the pros,” Uraraka said quietly. An image of Stain flashed across her vision and she met Bakugou’s eye. He’d never really talked to any of them about what happened when he’d been captured by the League of Villains in their first year, but every once in a while he’d mention something about how some of them were trying to mimic the hero killer. “Maybe…maybe they’re trying to create civil unrest by showing that even with pro heroes, villains still end up doing whatever they want most of the time. We can’t be everywhere, and even when we are there—”

“The villains still get away.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t explain what our suspect’s Quirk is or why he’s always the one there.”

“Well maybe we just need to catch him in action.”

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “The odds of that happening are utter shit. They could attack a lot more people while we play stake out.”

“Maybe not,” Uraraka said, tapping a finger to her chin in a gesture she’d undoubtedly picked up from Tsuyu. “Look at the names and the dates.”

Bakugou did so, his eyes widening in realization. “He’s working his way up through the hero ranks.”

“Mhm. Mt. Lady was the most recent, and she’s what? Eleven?”

“Ten.”

“So Ryukyu’s coming up soon. I bet she’d give us her schedule if we asked.”

“And then what? Stalk her?”

Uraraka wanted to mention that all of this was his idea in the first place, but he hadn’t come to her for whining or excuses.

“Well, yeah. I’ve got a long range scope Hatsume made me after that thing with the tree. It’s worth a shot.”

“Fine. We start tomorrow.”

—

Bakugou was sulking in the lobby when Uraraka and Hado returned from their patrol.

“Ryukyu said she’d assign a higher level sidekick to watch out for the suspect,” Bakugou said by way of greeting, standing and steering Uraraka back toward the door with a hand on her arm. “She gave me access to the video footage from the cameras that save that kind of data, so we need to go through it and—”

“Stop for a second,” Uraraka said, planting her feet and resisting his pull. He did stop, and let go of her arm with an annoyed look on his face. “I’ve got to, you know, write my report and shower and change and get my stuff.”

She gestured back into the building and Bakugou’s eye twitched. The bags beneath them were darker than the day before, and Uraraka wondered how late he’d stayed up after he left her apartment. But of course, to ask would make it look like she was worried about him, and he wouldn’t stand for such things.

“Cool it with the Rage Aura,” she teased instead, an old joke that mostly served to irritate him further. “Give me an hour.”

“Forty-five minutes.”

“An hour. Where do you want to meet?”

“I was going to go back to your place. There’s a shit ton of construction next to my building and it’s irritating as fuck.”

“Then I’ll meet you there in a hour,” Uraraka told him, wondering when exactly he’d become so comfortable inviting himself over.

“Fine. Give me your key.”

“What? Why?”

“So I can go ahead and get started, shit-wit.”

Uraraka sighed, knowing that this compromise would at least appease him to some extent, so she pulled her apartment key from the small pocket in her boot and handed it to him.

“It um…it gets a little jammed,” she said, feeling awkward again at the quality of her living situation. “It helps if you bend it a bit to the right.”

“Yeah yeah, get going already. I can figure it out.”

Uraraka turned and began making her way back to her desk, but another thought had her whipping around to face him again with a hand on her hip. “And be nice to Pythagoras!”

“To who?”

“My cat.”

“You’re a fucking weirdo, Uraraka.” This, though, he said without much bite as he turned on his heel and left the building.

—

Uraraka almost had a heart attack as she walked down the hall to her apartment and a hand flew out of the neighboring unit and dragged her inside.

“Mrs. Takahashi,” Uraraka gasped, putting a hand on her chest as she stared at the small, grinning woman. “What are you doing?”

“He’s got a key.”

“Huh?”

“Your Katsuki. You gave him a key to your apartment!”

“My…what?” Uraraka’s brain felt like it was swimming through mud. The words 'your’ and 'Katsuki’ were not words that made sense together in the way Mrs. Takahashi said them.

But the older woman was, once again, on a different planet and completely ignoring Uraraka’s confusion. “Dare I ask if you’ve set a date for the wedding?”

Uraraka’s whole body turned red, like she’d been dunked in a vat of boiling water, and her tongue was thick and heavy as she tried to form the right words, but all that came out was a weak sort of “Wahh?”

“Too soon? I know kids these days are a bit more…open. Lots of young couples are moving in together before getting married, so no judgment from me, dear!”

“But…I don't—”

“Just so long as you’re safe, hun. As cute as you are, we don’t need any little Ochakos running around just yet.”

There was definitely steam coming out of Uraraka’s ears at that point, but fortunately, her phone started ringing in her bag. She fumbled with it, hands shaking a bit, and when she did finally flip it open, it was to none other than the man of the hour.

“Oy, you’re late!”

Uraraka glanced at her watch, her tongue unsticking itself so she could argue with him. “By one minute! Keep your hair on.”

She hung up over whatever he was going to say next and turned back to Mrs. Takahashi, who was, if possible, grinning even wider.

“Can’t wait to see you, can he?”

“Something like that,” said Uraraka, groaning internally at the fact that she was, at some point, going to have to explain all this and likely break the older woman’s heart. So, for the moment, she just shoved her phone back in her bag and said, “I should get back.”

“Have fun!”

Something like that, Uraraka repeated to herself.

When she walked into her apartment, she almost laughed.

Bakugou was sitting on the couch, a takeout container in one hand, a pen in the other, with a video going on the tv and another on his laptop on the coffee table. He scratched notes in a notebook with the same manic intensity as Deku while his chopsticks hung half-forgotten from his teeth and his wide-rimmed black glasses (which Uraraka had seen him in a grand total of two times) slipped down his nose. Pythagoras lounged across the back of the couch behind him, as blissfully oblivious as Mrs. Takahashi to the Rage Aura.

“Yours is in the fridge,” he said, again forgoing any expected form of greeting as his eyes flitted from one screen to the other to his notebook and back again.

Uraraka dropped her bag on the counter and noticed a new appliance, fresh out of the box, sitting next to her thrift shop toaster.

“Bakugou… Did you buy me a coffee maker?” she asked, annoyed that he thought she needed it, but also a bit amused. “Instant coffee isn’t that bad.”

“I had a spare,” he grunted, still not bothering to look her way. “My bat-shit crazy mom couldn’t decide on a brand so she bought me two. And yes. It is.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled a bit because the King of Explo-kills cared about the quality of his coffee.

Not that he actually went by that name, but she liked to use it in her own mind because he was such a giant dork and he’d always tried so hard to hide it.

She grabbed her matching takeout container from the fridge and settled down onto the couch beside him, kicking herself a bit for making an effort to change into her nicer leggings and tank top this time—he was wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants and an old black skull t-shirt that she remembered from high school, one that was nearly coming apart at the seams with age.

“This one,” he began, unconcerned with everything but the task at hand as he gestured to the video on his laptop. “Is that street behind U.A. And that one’s the big bank ATM downtown.”

“So we’re just waiting for him to show up and see if he uses his Quirk?” Uraraka asked, popping open the cardboard container and digging in. How Bakugou knew to get her chicken udon with no mushrooms and extra broccoli was beyond her, but she didn’t press the issue as she tucked her feet beneath her and focused on the screens.

There were several hundred hours of video footage across the different cameras, and they quickly discovered that their suspect showed up at the scene more than once prior to the attacks, meaning they had to actually dig through each one for every sighting.

It was going on three in the morning when Uraraka, bleary-eyed and frustrated because they’ve barely made a dent, decided to call it a night. She kicked out a grumbling Bakugou and made him leave everything with her so that he could actually get some sleep for once (because, she told him, he was useless to her if he was exhausted). He protested, but eventually did as she said, and Uraraka fell into bed dreading that she had to be up in four hours, but also glad that she had something other than boring patrols to dedicate her time to.

—

They fell into a routine—Uraraka provided the place, Bakugou provided the food, and neither acknowledged the fact that the other was helping. To say something would break the balance, undo the dynamic, and Uraraka, for her part, was content to let it be.

They didn’t talk much, just spent hours and hours and hours together on the couch sorting through mostly useless footage, occasionally stopping to laugh at a weird person using the ATM or an awkward interaction on some unimportant street.

And Mrs. Takahashi continued to imply, and Uraraka continued to ignore.

—

It was a week into their research and they were still empty-handed. Uraraka was so tired, but unwilling to admit defeat another night in a row, so she pushed herself just a bit longer, sipping on her instant coffee (she refused to use Bakugou’s coffee maker on principle—it was his, he was just keeping it at her apartment) and blinking away the blur in her eyes.

Then, a weight slumped against her shoulder and she froze.

Bakugou had fallen asleep.

On her.

Bakugou had always been an in-your-face type of person, but in-your-space was a different matter altogether. He outrighted flinched when people touched him half the time, so this…

This was new.

If it weren’t for the bags beneath his eyes she would’ve woken him, but he’d been burning both ends of the candle for so long that this was probably his body’s way of finally telling him enough. And she couldn’t argue with that.

But still. The fact that he’d allowed this—given in to weakness, he would say—surprised her. Was he really so comfortable around her that it didn’t bother him? When had she crossed that invisible hurtle between bothersome acquaintance and…friend?

She would never say it aloud, but she was touched.

Wide awake with her thoughts spinning like a merry-go-round set to hyperdrive, Uraraka shifted, just slightly, pulling the laptop and notebook closer to her side of the table and continuing to work as Bakugou snored lightly against her shoulder.

The next morning, she awoke on the couch, having at some point been lulled to sleep by Bakugou’s even breathing. She sat up and blinked at the light filtering through the window.

Bakugou was gone, but there was a fresh pot of coffee waiting for her in the kitchen.

Uraraka smiled, because it felt a little like a gift and a little like a thank you.

And it all felt a whole lot like trust.

[PART TWO]

[coeurdastronaute]

Either/Or: Single II

More SINGL?

Previously on Single

The apartment was decked in all of the holiday spirit. Lights on every surface, sloppy snowflakes cut and taped on the windows, stockings hung with care and construction paper and cotton ball snowmen on the walls. The tree itself was modest in girth, but laden with ornaments, all kinds of handmade, hot glue gunned and glitter bespeckled entities.

The early evening sun set outside, allowing the balcony to glitter in the dark, the multi-color lights coming inside, strung all around, covering the walls. The modest apartment was all greens and reds and golds and blues and filled with possibilities for merriment that the season lent all moments to having.

Even though it was still three days before Christmas, there were already gifts, much to the joy of the four year old.

“Hey! I can hear you touching those presents!” Kara called from her bedroom.

“I was just looking!”

“Looking is done with the eyes.”

With a growl, the little girl crawled away from the tree, once again taking a seat on the couch and staring intently at the gifts that taunted her. Some movie played on the television, though it was not as interesting as what was hidden in those lead lined boxes.

In the background, she listened as her mother finished getting dressed, and she tugged at the collar of the sweater that itched her neck.

“Lena, if you get this, please call me. I think we should talk. Or at least I hope you still want to,” Kara sighed as she walked back through the living room in search of something in the laundry room behind the kitchen. “I miss you. And I’m sorry. I never meant to… I just. I know you need to process and think-- dang.”

“That’s a bad word.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara mumbled, staring at her phone. She gave herself a deep breath before nodding and deciding that was all she could do. “Are you ready for Uncle J’onn’s Christmas party?”

“Maggie said she was going to make those cookies, with the icing but I could put sprinkles on.”

“Oh wow. I didn’t know that,” Kara smiled wide. “And tonight, what movie would you like to watch?”

“The one with the train.”

Little feet hopped up from the couch and followed her mother as she tried to finish getting ready, which was a feat with an inquisitive little one and presents in the same room.

“What about the Grinch?”

“Oh yeah! I want that one too.”

“Too? We should watch more than one?” Kara held her jaw open in mock surprise. “I don’t know… we might have to make popcorn, and then eat some of those extra Christmas cookies. Maybe stay up past bedtime to watch two movies.”

“Can we please, Mommy?” she asked, crawling up on the bed.

Katie liked watching Kara get ready. She liked sitting on her big bed and imagining she’d be big and strong like her. That was a nice thought.

“We’ll see,” she decided. “Let’s get shoes on. Up up, little one.”

In a move, the little girl braced herself before sprinting out of the room in a blink. Kara just smiled to herself and followed at a human pace.

“Hey, hey, not on the couch,” she chided, pulling on her own shoes and grabbing their coats as the door rang out with a knock. “Coat and mittens and hat or else we aren’t going anywhere.”

She wasn’t expecting anyone, and she certainly wasn’t expecting a man in a suit with bags in his hands.

“Hi,” Kara smiled while a little girl ran around behind her, trying to pull on her mittens before her shoes.

“Ms. Danvers?”

“Yes?”

“Ms. Luthor asked me to drop these off for you. She left to spend the holiday vacation abroad, but wanted you to have them.”

“Did she… is she… I mean. She’s okay?” Kara furrowed.

“She’s skiing with friends in the Alps,” he promised. “Happy Holidays.”

A second later, bags were thrust into her hand and Kar took them carefully. Maybe that was why Lena hadn’t answered calls and been too busy for lunch. That would make sense. For a moment, it was a relief.

“Who’s are these for? Me?”

“Hm? Oh. I don’t know. I think…. Do you remember Lena from the bookstore?” Katie nodded. “She must have sent us presents.”

“That’s nice. We can open them now if you want.”

Still in a bit of a whirlwind, Kara closed the door and looked at the items. She suddenly understood how her daughter could be so eager to open things when she didn’t know what was in them.

Kara as a goner for that look her daughter gave her. That, and her own eagerness to know what Lena could have possibly sent her for the holiday. A little box was wrapped on her dresser for the Luthor, though she wasn’t sure she’d have a chance to give it to her.

“Just this one, and we will write Lena a thank you note, right?”

“Right,” she agreed, eagerly tugging off her mittens.

They were going to be late, but neither Danvers cared at all as they settled on the couch. Gently, Kara handed her daughter the bag with her name on it in the precise, tiny letters she recognized as Lena’s.

“I don’t know Lena and she got me presents.”

“She’s nice.”

Katie thought of the words before pulling things from her Christmas bag. Kara had to move quick to snap a picture of the face that came when a tiny stuffed whale emerged. Excitedly, the little girl rubbed the soft against her cheek before digging into the bag again. A stack of children’s books emerged, all with a distinct theme.

“How did she know I love this?” Katie breathed all joy and eagerness. “Can we read right now?”

“We have to go to the party.”

“Tonight?”

“Of course.”

Kara wanted to stop herself, but she couldn’t. Slowly, she pulled the beautiful notebook from her gift bag, followed by the set of pastels and another of pencils. She smiled to herself at the gift before stilling her heart.

“Now you can color more with me!” Katie observed, crawling across the couch to see what her mother got. “Those are nice things.”

“They are,” Kara agreed. “Should we send Lena a picture of how much we like our things?”

“Yes! Here,” her daughter wiggle to the floor and tried to hold all of her books. “Show her how much I love all of my new stories please!”

Beaming, both smiled so big theirs eyes were closed, and Kara snapped a picture before sending it to Lena.

Christmas came early. Thank you so much. We both are very excited and grateful. Can’t wait to give you yours when you get back.

The entirety of the Christmas party, Kara thought about the gifts, and she thought about Lena, wondering if she hadn’t just ruined something good. And she tried not to, but she couldn’t help it, and so she kept checking her phone for a response from the other side of the world. And she would catch herself looking at the picture she sent, and how her little girl was over the moon to have books about whales.

Because of the strict movie schedule they had for the month, they didn’t stay late at the party. It was all adults anyway, and Katie could only stomach so much of being the cute little girl everyone doted on.

Snug in warm jammies, snuggled in her spaceship themed comforter, beneath the fake constellations on the ceiling, Kara laid beside her sleeping daughter on her single bed and inhaled the smell that was just her, all little and quiet and Katie. She listened to the quiet of her breathing and flipped through a few of the books they didn’t make it to, and she watched her daughter tug the little whale a little tighter as she dreamt. She couldn’t imagine being happier than a moment like that, and yet her mind was asking if it were possible.

Quietly, she turned off the light after gathering the books and leaving them on top of the bookshelf.

Once more, Kara checked her phone.

I don’t know if anything cuter has ever existed than the two of you receiving Christmas gifts, Lena messaged sometime between bath and storytime.

Isn’t it like 4 in the morning where you are?

I’m not a great sleeper.

Kara considered her options for a moment. She looked at the blank drawing book on the coffee table with the expensive tools and colors atop it. Her phone hovered over a name for a minute before she gave up and called.

Each ring made her heart stop over again.

“Hey,” Lena whispered.

“Hi,” Kara grinned.

The best time of the day was when the hurricane that was her daughter was somewhat tired. But to get her to that state took an alarming amount of work. Half-Kryptonian, Half-Daxamite and fully charged, she was just a lot. This meant there were days spent running around the park, and days where Kara would take her flying, just to burn off some of the energy that the after lunch nap seemed to recharge. Kara got good at being creative, hoping to exhaust her daughter physically and mentally in new ways as often as possible. Leaving her to her own devices was dangerous. It led to broken furniture and ceilings covered in crayons.

Nearly five years old, and she was too smart. Kara wondered if she was like that as a kid. Twelve thousand questions per day, some nonsensical and impossible to answer, others that just spiraled into deeper, more complex issues. Katie was her favorite thing on the planet. In the universe.

“Blow on it, but blow gently,” Kara warned as she placed hot chocolate on the counter and her daughter knelt on the stool. Gently was a word they were still learning.

“What are marshmallows made of?”

“You know, I’m not sure.”

“Is there a tree? Do they get picked?” she asked, watching the little candies swirling around as she blew on the cocoa. “Grandma has a orange tree where oranges grow and I can pick them. She let me fly up there to get them.”

“I’m almost certain they don’t grow on trees,” Kara smiled and blew on her own.

“Ask your phone where marshmallows come from please?”

With a tug in her pocket, Kara pulled out her phone and they commenced another round of research. Her daughter was attempting to use Google so much that her search history would surely be the amalgamation of the weirdest queries of all time, with such golden moments as “Do dolphins dream?” and “Who invented alarm clocks?” in good company with “Where do marshmallows come from?”

A few videos and a rabbit hole of links later, and Katie hurried into her room to grab her messy notebook she kept adding to with new information.

“So it does grow on trees,” she asked, pushing it toward Kara, so she could write in the facts.

“It was once made using the roots of a plant,” her mom corrected. “Now, it’s just a lot of sugar and junk mixed very fast.”

“Can you write that marshmallows come from roots sometimes?” she asked, sipping her hot cocoa. “And maybe draw one so I can color it.”

“Sure,” Kara grinned, carefully adding the note on the next open page.

Feet kicking in the air from the stool, Katie watched her mom work and draw and write. She furrowed, as she was prone to do, deep in thought about the newest addition to their encyclopedia.

“I still wish they grew on trees,” she decided.

Kara agreed and drank some of her own once she finished jotting. For good measure, she added a mug of cocoa in the drawing.

“Is it Aunt Alex? Can we go sledding now?”

The notification that buzzed the phone wasn’t her sister, but still, Kara opened it eagerly, smiling at the text from Lena.

“Sorry, it’s just a friend of mine. I’ll call though and hopefully we can go soon.”

“Which friend?”

“Lena.”

“Whale lady,” Katie nodded appreciatively, sipping from her mug quite studiously, earning a chuckle from her mother.

Before she replied, Kara stared at her phone and then again at her daughter. The faintest spot of dimple could be seen, even when she wasn’t smiling. Her eyes were bluer than her own, her hair a lighter blonde. A chocolate mustache completed the look of a wintery Sunday. Sometimes, Kara had trouble even believing she existed.

“Hey, can I ask you a question, Katie?”

“But of course,” she nodded, repeating her Uncle J’onn’s favorite line and accent.

“Do you know how your friends in daycare sometimes have mommies and daddies?”

“Yeah, like Becca. Sometimes they both pick her up.”

“Right, exactly,” Kara nodded. “And you know how Mommy and Daddy don’t live together? And that’s okay, too?”

“Yeah, because Daddy is on another planet,” she nodded, matter-of-a-factly.

“Well, yes. But even if he lived here, we wouldn’t live together. Because we aren’t married, and we aren’t together like Becca’s parents are.”

“Because families are all weird. Like ohana. You can be ohana and be a picked family.”

“Yes. Exactly. Becca lives with her mom and dad, and you live with just your mom. Both are normal and good, right?”

“Sometimes I wish Daddy was on this planet,” Katie confessed between sips.

“Sometimes I do too,” Kara agreed with a sad smile. “But I wanted to know if you would mind if Mommy spent time with someone.”

“How much time?”

“I’m not sure.”

“When?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Why?”

“Okay, um,” she ran her hand along her neck awkwardly and tilted her head slightly, searching for an answer. “So before mommies and daddies have babies, they date. Like, do you remember before Alex married Maggie?”

“No.”

“Right, you were two,” Kara sighed and took another drink of hot chocolate. “This would be easier if you remembered.”

“What is dating?” she asked, cocking her head slightly as she licked her lips of cocoa foam.

“It’s when adults get to know each other and see if they want to get married and have babies. Sometimes you get married when you date, and sometimes you don’t.” Kara winced and wondered how so many words could describe such a simple notion. “Like when you go on playdates. It’s just hanging out with someone else. But when you’re a grown up, it’s a little different.”

“Like you and Daddy.”

“Right! We never got married, we just dated,” Kara nodded, leaning forward. “Our family has always just been me and you, and I love that. But I was wondering if you might not like Mommy bringing someone else around.”

“So it won’t be you and me anymore?” she worried, eyes growing wide at the idea of it.

“No, no no. It is always going to be me and you, love. Always and forever. Just maybe we can have another person who hangs out with us sometimes? Like when Lilo adopted Stitch, and then Stitch joined and they had a new ohana. Remember that?”

“Like when Dylan comes over to play?”

“Um, kind of,” Kara nodded, regretting this conversation immensely. “Mommy met someone she likes a lot. Likes like how Aladdin like Jasmine.”

“To do the kissy stuff with?” Katie squinted up her face at the notion.

“Yes.”

“I don’t have to see the kissy stuff do I?”

“No, honey. You don’t. I just wanted to see if it would bother you, to see me kiss someone who wasn’t Daddy.”

“You kissed Daddy?” she yucked.

“Oh man, this is getting out of control.”

Both resigned themselves to their drinks. Both wanted to forget this conversation. Kara wasn’t sure if she’d accomplished anything at all, or if it was all in her head that it would be a problem. Katie was stuck on the kissing part.

“If you want to kiss kiss someone, I think you should,” Katie decided after finishing the last bit of hot chocolate. “Maggie was sad once when she comes home, and Aunt Alex gave her a kiss and then she smiled. If kisses make someone happy, they should get lots of kisses. We need a Stitch.”

“I agree,” Kara smiled warmly.

“Can you write a note about all of this. I should learn what dating is.”

“Um. Yeah, but we can discuss that in a lot more years away from now,” the mother decided, picking up the pen once again.

“Okay,” Katie decided, waiting for Kara to start writing on the page after Marshmallows. She watched her hesitate and contemplate many things. “Mommy, if you have someone to kiss, will you be happy like Maggie?”

Kara looked up at her daughter and relaxed a little at the innocent question that she’d been asking herself in some form or another for weeks.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “But I do know that Katie Kisses are my favorites.”

“That’s me.”

“I think it’s time,” Kara sang, her hands going up wide and tall.

“No! No!” she giggled and tried to crawl off of the stool. “Mama no!”

“Oh yes,” Kara roared and stomped around the kitchen with a big smile. “Monster kisses are coming!”

Squeals and giggles could be heard as she chased her daughter to the couch, pinning her there and tickling her ribs while slobbering on her cheeks and neck. Not one thing would matter more than a moment like that.

Something about coming home after a long time was delicious and sad at the same time. Just three weeks, and already the penthouse felt a little less familiar. There was this eerie feeling to stepping into a quiet place that hadn’t seen life in weeks. Everything was the same but felt as if it came from a dream.

Lena placed her purse on the table beside the door and thanked the doorman for helping her with her luggage as she took in a deep breath of her home.

It took a lot of working over in her head. The vacation was needed, and it turned into something better than expected. When Kara called her in the middle of the night, they talked for hours. And it happened again the second night. And it happened again, every night. It took a lot of working over in her head, but Lena could understand the lie, as much as it hurt. It was the getting over it part that was still difficult.

The Christmas decorations were all gone, and the house looked normal, all white and muted hues, all pristine and unlived in. Quietly, Lena stood there, almost afraid to move, suddenly very alone and awkward in her own house.

Despite the late hour, Lena dug for her laptop and decided work was the best distraction from being in the same city as her… as Kara. It was short lived, as she found a Christmas themed present sitting on her kitchen counter.

‘This was delivered to the office. I thought you might like it when you got home. -Jess.’

Lena smiled at the note and picked up the other piece of paper, a large drawing done in crayon with scribbles and not much else to it. At the bottom, in perfect pen and then traced by messy blue crayon, was the name Katie Danvers.

‘I couldn’t find a real bridge for sale, but we went to the museum and saw this and I thought of you. Merry Christmas, Lena, XoXo Kara.’

As quickly as she could remember opening a present in her life, Lena tore into the delicately wrapped box. Gently, she took out the snow globe with the Justice Bridge in it, gallantly connecting East and West Metropolis. Tall buildings were eclipsed by the exaggerated bridge, and Lena shook it a few times, creating a flurry swirling around it.

She looked at the scribbled picture and she looked at the snow globe and shook her head. It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t do… that. She couldn’t… Kids wouldn’t like her. And to be with Kara meant having a kid attached and that was a lot. How could Lena, the childhoodless child who still needed someone to remind her to eat possibly be involved with someone with a kid? Her earliest memories were hiding under the bed from a stepmother and trying to run away. She wasn’t an example that anyone should want around.

To have Kara meant she had to have Katie. And it wasn’t that the little girl wasn’t cute and surely sweet like her mother, but just that Lena, was, in her own opinion, by far the absolute worst person to be around.

The door knocked with the inevitable arrival of the rest of her luggage. She left her laptop on the counter and took the snow globe with her, toying with it and smiling fondly at the reporter she met on accident.

“Thanks, James,” she smiled as she opened the door, still swirling her toy in her hands.  

“You were expecting someone else?”

“Kara,” she breathed, looking up instantly.

“Welcome home.”

The luggage arrived as the elevator dinged. Both stepped aside as it rolled into her living room behind them. The entire time, Lena stared at Kara as if she were an alien, as if she couldn’t believe she was real.

There were still snowflakes melting in the gentle waves of her hair. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose had a pinkness to them because of the January tint in the chilly night. Breathlessly, she just stared back at Lena with a lot of words to say and no way to make them come out of her mouth.

“Thank you, James,” Lena nodded as he politely excused himself. “Would you like to come in?”

“You got your present,” Kara nudged her chin as she unwound her scarf. “Thank you for what you sent us. Katie has had me reading Amos and Boris every night. And I’ve… I really enjoy having an excuse to draw again.”

“What did you think of the museum?”

“What?”

The door closed and Kara unzipped her coat. Lena looked back at the snow globe and smiled, cradling it to her stomach.

“The History Museum. I sponsored the Women in History section. Well, LCorp did.”

“We loved it, actually.”

They were left there, not looking and looking at each other. For the eternity, Kara couldn’t remember why she thought coming over was a good idea. But Lena looked very good, and she smelled good, and she’d missed her greatly.

“Kara, I think we--”

“We should talk,” they both rushed.

“You first,” Lena offered.

“I know we’ve talked a lot, but we haven’t talked about… something. I didn’t mean to lie to you. We met, and just… I wouldn’t let myself consider how I’d feel about you.” She wrung her fingers as she explained, hoping to keep them locked up from waving around as she tried to find the right words. “But I have a daughter, and I thought I was happy. I never thought to be unhappy… But I realized I could be happier, if you were around.”

“We’re friends, Kara.”

“I know, but we’re not, you know? You were right. It’s not just you. There’s always… just… this layer to us,” she shook her head and knit her hand in her hair. “I met you and now I can’t stop thinking that there could always be more happiness.”

“I… Do you… Kara, I don’t know anything about kids. I’m not exactly an expert in normal.”

“Neither are we,” Kara chuckled. “I’ve been so nervous to see you, because this is scary. But I think it takes just a little bit of courage and then you move on from there.”

“I like you,” Lena confessed, looking at the bridge and the snow flurrying around in her hands, afraid to meet her eyes when she admitted it. To say it out loud was a violent kind of rebellion.

She swallowed as Kara’s hands held her own, as they moved to her neck and jaw, making her eyes close at the feeling and closeness. When she finally opened them, she sighed at Kara’s smile.

“You walked up to me at a party, and nothing else really matters,” she promised.

“I don’t know. A lot of things matter.”

“Is it the kid thing?” Kara fret. Her hands were still on Lena. She was still close. “Or is it something else.”

“We do have differing opinions of pizza toppings, and honestly that’s what’s holding me up.”

Lena earned a smile. She did everything she could to get Kara to smile and laugh when they talked late into the night. She wasn’t successful as much as she would have liked, but having it in person was a lot.

“I didn’t want to try because I thought something might change,” she whispered. “But I talked to her, and I don’t think she understands, but I think she knows that having the whale lady around makes her mom happy.”

“The… the whale lady?”

“That’s nowhere close to the weirdest thing out of her mouth.”

“Kara, are you going to kiss me anytime soon?” Lena shook her head, disregarding the many questions she had regarding the entire kid thing. Her thoughts were solely on the girl who bought her a bridge.

“I, um,” she swallowed and searched Lena’s face. “I want to, but… if we’re being honest. There’s one more thing I might have to tell you.”

“If you’re married, I’m retiring and moving to Switzerland.”

“Um, no,” Kara laughed awkwardly. “Never married. But my daughter’s father is an alien.”

“Oh.”

“And so am I.”

“Oh.”

[of-the-silver-lining]

Oh maaaaan, I just read the latest Tales from the Shadow and I have things to say. ((SPOILERS FOR 5.3 AND NEWEST TALES FROM THE SHADOWS BELOW))

It’s totally in line with how I imagined Azem: a firebrand of chaotic good energy who had strong and somewhat unconventional ideals, constantly did what others thought impossible, caused trouble even, and was seen by some as an refreshing oddity. And who on some level exasperated Emet-Selch, being much more down-to-earth. I’m regretting I never finished my Azem headcanons post because, well, half of it is pretty much canon. I’ve said this before but how does this game know exactly what I want?

Elidibus was LITERALLY a child, I’m so glad that was cleared up for me, frankly I was not sure whether to take that literally or as a representation of him regressing to childlike modes of thinking, beliefs, and desires because of his loss of memory.

I swear Emet-Selch always wants to sleep or sneak off, and I LOVE the implication that got me thinking maybe part of the reason the Calamities were so far apart was because he’d set up empires to crumble or power struggles to cause disaster and then GO OFF TO THE VOID TO TAKE A NAP FOR A FEW CENTURIES. I mean, dang, I’m sure it’s a lot of work to destroy the universe. I love our evil sleepy skunk grandpa.

And then... that poem. I need someone to please bring me back to earth because it sounds like... I’m sorry, I don’t like speculating about this kind of stuff, but it sounds like... he’s not totally gone just yet? Lines like: “What strength I have's mine own, Which is most faint, as is my breath That quavers here at brink of death.” and “I bid the falling curtain─pause. Let "encore" be my final word”

It’s probably just talking about his reappearance at the end of 5.3... right? Is he totally gone now though? Someone stop me before I get my hopes up...

[evenstevensranked]

#48: Season 2, Episode 8 - “Head Games”

Twitty becomes the star pitcher of LJH’s baseball team! He’s loving it until Louis starts to put pressure on him to win all the time. Elsewhere, Ren tries to sit next to Bobby Deaver on the bus come hell or high water.

But, I’m pretty sure the one thing everyone remembers from this episode is:

(^ I cannot find the source of that gif for the life of me. So, if it’s yours... I’m sorry. Tell me and I’ll credit you!)

This one opens at the baseball field! Kinda refreshing. And guess who the announcer is?! It’s ARTIE RYAN!!! Played by Jerry Messing from Freaks and Geeks. This marks his first appearance in my countdown! He’s basically this overweight and sort of apathetic character, who dishes out some hilariously dry humor. He’s unfortunately only in five episodes over the course of the series. Then again, maybe that’s a good thing. It’s never fun when a character actor is overused and subsequently goes stale... (*cough* Beans *cough*) 

What a guy!

LJH isn’t doing too hot with the current pitcher they have out on the mound. Louis is there with a radar gun, checking the pitcher’s speed and hanging around Coach Tugnut. When Tugnut asks where he got the radar gun Louis says: “Got it at a police auction. I would’ve got the jaws of life, it just didn’t fit on my bike.” He also rags on the pitcher saying “My grandma can throw a ball of yarn faster.” Idk why, but I kind of like these lines. They’re clearly pre-written and therefore feel a little cheesy as opposed to some gems we get from Shia improvising. But, there aren’t many other stand-out lines in this one. So, they’ll have to suffice. This pitcher really is doing a crap job though, so they switch him out for Twitty. Something that stands out to me is that Twitty is chilling in the dugout prior to this reading some giant book? Like? Is that supposed to be a joke? It just seems out of character. He should be sitting there — not paying attention, listening to music on his headphones and playing air-guitar or something. Not reading freaking War and Peace.

So... I looked closely. That is a fictional book called “The Brains of Men and Women.” What the heck.

Twitty gets up to pitch for the first time that season and rox everyone’s sox off. (Yeah, I said that.) His stellar performance helps lead LJH to a victory! Artie initially introduced him by saying “Alan throws right, bats left, and lives around the corner from Del’s Pizzeria” which is fantastic. Fun fact: Just because I’m weird, I decided to look up Del’s Pizzeria… and it’s a real family owned and operated restaurant that opened in 1973! AND it’s actually in California! Granted, it’s 4 hours outside of Sacramento… so, if we’re thinking within the shows universe - that’d be a bit of a commute every day for a middle schooler lol. BUT STILL!!! I bet one of the writers or someone involved actually lived around there. Little things like that make me happy.  

Ren and Bobby talk in the hallway and it’s extremely awkward. Ren brings up Canada and how their system of government is similar to America’s. I can’t. To be fair, they haven’t become “official” yet. That actually happens in the following episode! But, I honestly think Ren and Bobby are so uncomfortable to watch sometimes because they simply don’t belong togetherrrrr! (I think I’ve made it clear who I prefer for her.) Well.. that, and they’re in Junior High. Everything about middle school relationships is awkward and I gotta admit again that the Ren/Bobby stuff portrays that pretty accurately. Ruby tells Ren to not say a word the next time they talk and let Bobby take control. Kinda awful advice and gives me Poor Unfortunate Souls vibes… but ok. It works, though! Bobby invites Ren to sit next to him on the bus for their upcoming field trip. Something that bothered me: Ren’s so excited about the invitation that she moves a guy away from his locker to scream into it. The only issue is that it’s HER LOCKER. There’s a crapton of other lockers the extra could’ve used!!

Her locker seen in Season 1. 

The “random guy’s” locker she screamed into. 

Twitty’s super happy about pitching so well. He’s the new star player! Tawny asks “Twitty, how does it feel to be the new sports hero? I mean, not that I’m into sports or anything. I actually find it to be a waste of the human spirit.” I relate to that so much, tbh. But, yeah. It’s all fine and dandy until Louis starts telling Twitty that everything’s different now. That the entire school is counting on him to win all of their games. And here we get one of the most iconic lines of the whole series. Louis explains, “You’re the closer, the man! THE BIG POPPA WITH THE BIG MOPPA!!!!!” (the first gif.) I was so unsure of where to rank this episode, solely because of how memorable this line is. But, one great line doesn’t exactly save this episode from being a little flat otherwise. I had my mom watch it with me today for an outside opinion and she was like “Dang, this one is boring.” Sooo. Yeah.

Anyway, Louis really gets inside Twitty’s head and he starts freaking out during their next game. He’s sweating like a pig and can’t think straight. We see Twitty imagine Louis’ face on the baseball he’s holding, repeating the Big Poppa line. It’s honestly so hilarious seeing Shia’s face on a baseball like that I really cannot handle it. It’s something else that made me want to rank this higher.

Twitty took drugs before this game, right? 

Twitty pitches terribly and throws the ball pretty much everywhere but over the plate. He hits the peanut guy and Artie yells, “Oh! Right in the peanuts! That’s gotta hurt.” — A little cringy. But, Artie said it.. so, it’s ok. He also exclaims “Holy cow! Someone get me a hard hat!” when one of Twitty’s awful pitches knocks over the announcement speakers. I love it. LJH loses 29 to 2. Twitty blames Louis. After this, he starts choking at everyday things! Like pouring milk and putting on deodorant. Tawny and Louis go over to Twitty’s and try to snap him out of it. This is the one time ever in all 65 episodes that we get to see Twitty’s room! It’s on-point with his character, too. Kinda stoner-y, sporty, music-y, but also messy like a slightly neater version of Louis’ room. I like that they actually put thought into how it should look. When Tawny and Louis walk in, Twitty is lying on his bed all depressed. Louis tries to motivate him by screaming and clapping “Ya gotta get up! You got a game this afternoon. UP AND AT ‘EM! Up, up, up! Come on! Let’s get UP!” As if that’s gonna help someone who’s depressed. I love Shia so much.

The two try to help Twitty by giving him jellybeans when he thinks positively about pitching, and forcing him to smell Louis’ dirty socks when he has negative thoughts. At one point Tawny refers to the mound as “that stupid hill thingy.” I relate to her so much this episode. Their plan doesn’t work, so they call in Donnie for help. I really like Donnie. They bring him to Twitty’s room blindfolded and when they take it off he asks “…..where’s the surprise party?!” He’s so innocently dumb. It’s great. Once they fill him in on the situation, he recommends that Twitty relaxes at Big Al’s Spa — a place that once helped relieve him of sport-related stress.

Twitty’s room! (Guitars and surfboards not pictured, lol.)

There’s a 5 second bit I always liked where Louis grabs and eats a jellybean from Tawny and she just gives him this side eye. They’re so cute.

Nelson once again starts screwing things up for Ren. He sits next to her on the bus because according to his mother (and his hypochondria) that seat is the safest and he wants to live. He refuses to move. Wow. But, Ruby ain’t having it. She rearranges the ENTIRE BUS SEAT SCHEDULE in an elaborate plan just to ensure that Ren and Bobby sit together. 

What an inconvenience. 

The first time, something goes wrong and Ruby ends up next to Ren. This pisses me off. WHY COULDN’T SHE JUST SWITCH SEATS WITH BOBBY AFTER THAT?! It’s a very obvious and simple solution. But, no.. they just sit there looking at each other across the bus like “ugh, this is so difficult!1! This is like an impossible algebra problem… how will we ever solve it?! We’re worlds apart! :(“ 

So, instead of switching with Bobby.. She makes the entire bus swap seats again. Oh my god. This time Nelson ends up next to Ren, and Ruby ends up next to Bobby! SHE COULD EASILY JUST SWITCH SEATS WITH REN THIS TIME! But, they just helplessly stare at each other again. Seriously, how difficult is this?! Why couldn’t Ruby get it correct?! 

Thankfully, Nelson actually does something right and gets the brilliant idea to switch seats with Bobby! Wow! Genius! You could’ve done that the first time and saved everyone all the trouble. Jesus. So, yeah. Bobby and Ren get to sit together and they both admit that they get nervous around each other. Which is kind of cute I guess. Then Bobby says he “feels like a little kid again” because he used to get carsick when he was young. He proceeds to throw up into a backpack, lol. This guy is seriously not ~all that.~ Idk what Ren sees in him. He is literally so strange. Classically good looking, maybe. But there’s something off about his character. That’s the end of the subplot.

Twitty, Louis, Tawny and Donnie roll up to Big Al’s Spa and discover that it’s run down now and literally just a mud pit. You’re supposed to relax in the mud as if it’s a hot tub. No, thanks. Twitty really does not want to bathe in dirt either. But Louis says “Twitty, Donnie drove 50 miles… I’m spending $15… YOU’RE GETTIN’ IN THE STINKIN’ MUD!” I just love Shia’s shouty voice. Twitty gets in and they leave him there for an hour. He ends up taking a nap and wakes up super relaxed and refreshed… unfortunately, the mud hardened and he’s stuck.

I love Tawny’s outfit. I would wear that, honestly. I live in my Docs. Tawny is just me today. 

When Louis, Tawny and Donnie come back for him.. Twitty freaks out. He starts screaming “I’m trapped! I’m gonna be trapped here forever! And then I’m never gonna get to see my grandchildren!” Uh, Twitty… I’d be worried about not having your own kids first. It’s pretty funny, though. Twitty takes his anger and frustration out at Louis and yells “I swear to Bob, when I get out of here I’m gonna beat you up for a week!” …Excuse me? “I swear to Bob?!” Who is Bob??? Bob Marley? Bob the Builder? Bob Saget?!?! I mean really, “SWEAR TO BOB”?!?!?! Clearly, I’m assuming Disney can’t say “swear to god.” But, wow. They should’ve had him say something else in that case, because “swear to Bob” just sounds stupid.

Obviously, they’re able to dig Twitty out! As soon as he’s free, he starts throwing mud balls at Louis who hides behind a barrel that just so happens to have a target on it. Without noticing, Twitty hits the bullseye every time. In order to focus that anger during games, they put a picture of Louis inside the Catcher’s glove, haha. Hey, it works though! And according to Artie Ryan, “The Twitty-meister is back.”

It ends with Coach Tugnut relaxing at Big Al’s Spa, per Louis’ recommendation… Except he’s stuck in the hardened mud with no one to dig him out. Oops.

The end!

Like I said last week.. Season 2 is just kinda there. Episodes like this and the other Season 2 episodes that I’ve ranked already are examples of what I mean. There’s just a strange amount of slower, more forgettable episodes imo. Although “The big poppa with the big moppa” definitely helps this one stand out in people’s memories, I think. This one is also a Twitty plot basically! Which is kinda cool! But, ya know.. The show is called Even Stevens and he’s not a Stevens. So the episode as a whole feels a little off because of that. And Ren’s subplot is okay here. I definitely relate to wanting to sit next to your crush on the bus. Again, a very realistic Junior High situation. But, I swear to Bob… (whoever he is) the unnecessary seat rearranging gets on my last nerve!!!

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