EARRINGS - ft. bakugou katsuki
〃contains: mutual pining, slightly suggestive
to everyone else, it's baffling.
bakugou talks to you like it's.. normal— well, normal-ish.
instead of exploding, pun intended, he complains, groans, and threatens but keeps you there anyways.
for a guy like him? that's as normal as he could get.
you find yourself in one of the training areas in UA, telling yourself you were gonna practice your new moves— but really, you just wanted to see a certain someone. your bestfriend.
however, that certain someone was already pissed. nothing new though— that was his baseline emotional state anyways.
you plop down on one of the benches nearby, legs crossed neatly, posture relaxed in that rare way you only get when you're around him. one elbow rests on your knee, chin propped in your palm.
"tch. why are you here," bakugou clicks his tongue, more of a statement than a question. "extras aren't allowed to loiter."
"someone shit in your breakfast this morning or something?" you retort, rolling your eyes at him the exact way you knew would piss him off even more. "relax. i'm just here to enrich the environment."
he scoffs and goes back to doing what he was doing before you oh-so-rudely interrupted him. "keep fuckin' rolling your eyes at me. next time, i'll make sure they'll be rolling so far back, you'll be seeing your damn brain."
you'd be lying if you said that sent a jolt straight only to your heart. (even if you knew he didn't mean it like that).
"woah? atleast take me out to dinner first." you cock your eyebrow, the most devious smirk playing on your lips. "didn't know you were bold like that."
his head snaps into your direction with an expression you couldn't even describe. it was kinda funny. you always got a kick out of teasing him.
still, the tips of his ears burnt a bright red.
"get your filthy head out the gutters.." he mumbles, looking away from you, explosions crackling in his palms that quickly connected with a training dummy (desperately hoping you didn't notice how all his blood went rushing to his cheeks). "open your mouth again and i'll blast you into smithereens."
"wow, kats.." you dramatically sniffle and wipe your fake tears. "that's the nicest thing you've said to me all week. im proud of you, okay? growth doesn't just happen overnight."
"ARE YOUR EARS JUST FOR DECORATION? DID YOU NOT LISTEN TO WHAT I JUST SAID?"
other days, when he isn't blowing your eardrums up with his yelling because you've ragebaited him for the sixth or seventh time in the same hour— you'll be in the dorm's kitchen with him, being forced to give feedback on another spoonful of whatever recipe he was trying that day.
"my god. just fuckin' open up before i shove it down your throat, dumbass."
"okay, well, mr. i-can-handle-spice-without-blowing-up-my-toilet-three-hours-later. i already told you, i can't handle spice like that. also— are you flirting with me??"
"no?? the fuck are you even talking about?"
"nevermind— anyways, i'm not taking another bite of that. my tongue already feels like its melting off."
"stop being such a damn baby. hurry up and tell me if it needs more seasoning."
safe to say you were chugging down a jug of milk after that.
but there were also days when you'd be draped over him on his bed after begging him to tutor you.
he doesn't even know why he always gives in to your excessive begging because he knows you'd just slyly change the topic to something incredibly stupid so you could distract him by arguing with him.
"get the hell off me, nerd. you're so heavy.." he huffs. although he wasn't doing much to push you off of him at all.
"what's that i hear? the 'future number one hero', the 'great explosion murder god dynamight' complaining about a girl half his weight ontop of him?" you taunt, pulling your head up from his neck to look at his face. "maybe you aren't as strong as i thought you were. shame, really.."
"you must have a fuckin' death wish, dont ya?" he nearly laughs at how dumb you sound right now— nearly. if it wasn't for how he realized how close your faces were. how pretty you looked with your hair slightly messed up like that from trying to win against him in your tickle fight earlier. how easy it would be to just shut you up with his lips. "i'll explode your head off right now, til there's nothing left but brain mush."
"what the fuck, kats. now i'm scared."
"good. you should be. now get off me before i kill you."
"whyyyy, but you smell so goooood, like caramel.."
"are there some loose screws in that smooth-brained head of yours?— nah, don't even need to answer. i already know."
"does it hurt you to be nice? be honest, i won't judge. i know different people have different conditions."
"just shut up and take your goddamn nap."
and you do as he says, rolling off of him and lying on your side, your back against his chest.
because a little cuddling never hurt a friendship, right?
at least that's what you kept telling yourself.
because it hit you— really hit you.
not while you're running away from him chasing you, not when he's trying to fight you off of his food, and not even during one your stupid back-and-forths where you poke and he threatens murder.
it hit you when everything was normal— peaceful, even.
you're both sitting on opposite sides of the bench after his training. he's towel drying his hair, usual scowl at nothing in particular. you're scrolling on your phone, half listening to him complain about something 'some extra' did.
you turn to look at him, shutting your phone off with a click.
you notice the way his shoulders rise and fall as he breathes. the faint scorch marks on his gloves. the way he’s always burning with energy even when he’s tired. the way the air around him feels warm, like his presence lingers a second longer than it should. the way that presence makes you feel warm, makes your stomach churn as if there were a million butterflies trying to eat their way out of your skin.
all you can do is swallow and laugh at his words like you always do.
i mean, what else could you do? just the other night, you'd overheard kirishima, denki, and sero teasing bakugou about how he still had so many fangirls despite his crazy attitude and personality and that 'there was no way he didn't try to bag at least one up.' to which bakugou replied— or threatened to 'blast them off into space if they kept talking nonsense' because he 'had no time for shitty girlfriends if he wanted to become the number one hero'.
you mentally curse yourself, telling yourself this was just proximity, you've always hung out like this, he literally threatens to kill you on a daily basis. everything you do is platonic. you joke, you argue, you sit next to each other, that's it.
"oi," bakugou snaps suddenly. "you listenin' or what? or are you zoning out or some shit?"
you jump a little. "wait what, rewind, i think i got hit with a deafening quirk or something."
"did your parents dropping you on your head as a baby finally catch up?" he flicks your forehead. "you've been staring off into space. do you even know you're alive right now?"
"oww, i was just thinking about homework and shit." you rub your forehead, the familiar warm feeling aching in your chest again.
"yeah right. maybe in another lifetime i'd believe that crap." he scoffs, eyes narrowing at you "fuck you been so quiet for?"
"wow, sorry, didn't know i was on a quota now."
"tsk. whatever, nerd." he looks away. "let's go."
he walks you to your dorm room, you joke around with him like you usually do every other day. but he could sense there was something bothering you. but he eventually just chalks up your weird behavior to you probably being on your period or something. he doesn't think too much about it. except he does.
the following days, you try to bury yourself in schoolwork do it doesn't seem like you're trying to avoid him on purpose. you even put more effort into your hair and makeup so you could occupy more of your time before class started so you didn't have to face him.
when you got to accessorizing, you realize one of your earrings is missing. probably got lost in his bed from that tickle fight last time. you cringe at yourself for finding any way to connect your situations to bakugou.
but were you really to blame? you were a girl with a crush.
it was subtle at first.
you still showed up in his vicinity— but you didn't stay.
you still talk— but your jokes lessened each time.
you still teased— but he could tell there was no bite.
and despite his explosive personality, he was no idiot. he knew when something was wrong. especially when it came to you.
at first, he tells himself he doesn't care. couldn't give less of a fuck. 'good. finally. one less extra yapping my damn ear off.'
because for one, he wasn't going to chase, nor was he going to beg you to tell him what he did wrong— or if he did anything at all.
why would he? it wasn't like you were anything more than just a less annoying extra to him. shit— did he even consider you as a friend?
was what he kept telling himself.
except— he found himself training harder, snapping faster, and glancing over without meaning to
and you're not there.
or worse, you are, but you're laughing with someone else. looking relaxed. fine. like you didn't use to orbit his personal space like it was muscle memory.
and don't think he doesn't notice how you get all dolled up now. who the fuck were you tryna impress?
that's when irritation turns into something uglier.
that weird feeling in his stomach and chest when he saw you, or when he was around you wasn't familiar. it wasn't like before, like when you both were basically attached by the hip. it felt like something trying to desperately crawl up out of his throat.
and a boy can only run away from his feelings for so long, even if the boy was katsuki bakugou.
he'd lay in his bed, replaying everything he's ever said to you, trying to remember if he said anything wrong, if he came off too harsh, if he offended you in any way.
bakugou, as surprising as it is, actually thought about apologizing to you, he didn't know what for, but you wouldn't pull away so suddenly if he hadn't done anything wrong, right?
he thinks of what to say, a million lines he mumbles to himself, testing them to see if it would sound right. he rehearses sentences in his head like they’re combat strategies.
"i'm not good at this but—" no. weak.
"i care more than you think." sounds stupid.
"don't leave." absolutely not. never.
and when he finally finds the words he wants to say to you, he saves it for another day, shelves it.
tomorrow, he decides.
after training, after he's calmer—
tomorrow keeps getting rescheduled.
getting you out of his head felt impossible. he'd even considered that maybe he'd been hit with a brain infestation quirk— or maybe this was a government experiment being done on him.
it was driving him absolutely crazy— you were driving him absolutely crazy.
what he didn't know was that you were going absolutely crazy too— staying away from him probably hurt you more than it hurt him. you'd find yourself ugly sobbing into your pillow because you were so in love with him it hurt.
being away from him just made you want him more. you missed him yelling at you, missed watching him train, missed him force feeding you whatever food he was cooking up that day and making you give feedback, missed everything about him.
but the way he didn't even try to reach out or yell at you to explain why you were avoiding him only confirmed your overthinking. you were just another 'stupid nerd extra' to him.
you think of all the times you leaned into his space. all the times you teased him just to see that flash of irritation. all the moments that felt charged in hindsight and probably weren’t.
you read into things, you always do.
some evening after class, you mindlessly walked to the vending machine in the empty hallway. you get his favorite drink instead of yours. it was stupid, holding onto a crush that couldn't care less about you. so so stupid.
you nearly flinch at the sound of his familiar footsteps echoing down the hallway and you pray and pray and pray he'd just walk past.
but of course, the universe is always against you.
"oi." he starts, his voice low and lacking the bite he usually had. "fuck you avoiding me for?"
you slowly turn your head to face him, his favorite drink clutched tightly in your hand. you have so many things you wanted to say to him but nothing would come out.
"if you have something to say, say it to my face." he continues, eyebrows furrowed. waiting for you to say something made his stomach churn, it was irritating. he nearly cringed at himself because in reality, he was the one who had stuff he wanted to say to you.
you just stare at him, heart beating so loudly in your chest you swear it was about to pop out of your ribs right then and there.
he runs a hand through his blonde hair and sighs, opening his mouth to say something.
but before he could, you cut in first.
"i like you," blurting it out like that was embarassing, it really was, but it really felt like holding it in any longer was going to kill you.
bakugou freezes. not dramatically, not wide-eyed— like someone hit pause mid breath.
"...what?" he says, not because he didn't hear you, but because his brain needed a reboot.
you don't take it back. don't soften it, don't laugh, don't even cushion it with a 'but'.
"i like you, katsuki." you repeat, quieter this time, your eyes drifting to the floor. "i didn't wanna keep circling it.."
your hands are clenched at your sides, bracing for the impact of his rejection. would he laugh? would he just walk away? would he make fun of you?
bakugou stares at you, really stares.
and then he exhales through his nose, sharp and disbelieving.
"...you're serious."
"yeah."
a beat.
then he scoffs, not mocking or angry, almost incredulous. "then why the hell are you avoiding me like i'm some plague?"
yup, straight to the jugular.
you swallow, you didn't wanna tell him you heard his coversation with the other guys. didn't wanna seem like a creep.. but your mouth betrays you.
"um, i heard you say stuff about not having time for a girlfriend and stuff to our classmates and stuff.. then i thought that i was reading too much into the stuff we were doing and i dont know.."
that makes him pause.
"that's the dumbest thing i've ever heard." he doesn't sound mad. you hope he isn't.
you just stay silent, what were you even supposed to say to that?
"you like me.." he says slowly, like he's testing the words for structural integrity. "and your solution was to pretend you didn't."
"well, what was i supposed to do?" you sighed. "confess my undying love for you after i heard you announce to the whole world that you didn't have time for some 'shitty girlfriend'?"
bakugou doesn't step closer, but the air shifts anyway.
you realize he hasn't said anything about having feelings for you so now you really wanna dig a hole in the floor and die there. so embarassing.
you continue. "look, if you have nothing else to say, just reject me and move on. i don't wanna talk anymore if all you're gonna do is make fun of me."
bakugo stares at you like you just threw a live grenade and waited to see if he’d flinch.
"...are you serious?" he mutters before letting out a short, sharp laugh. “tch.” he steps closer, invading your space just enough to make the point. “you really don’t know when to stop, do you?"
you finally gain the courage to look up at his taller frame, tears pricking at your eyes.
if this was some kind of joke on you, it was sick and cruel. he just won't reject you and move on?
your heart's pounding but you force yourself to keep your gaze on him.
he leans down slightly, voice low enough that it’s just for you.
“if I didn’t like you,” he says, slow and deliberate, “you wouldn’t still be standing here.”
for a second, you felt relief wash over you.
“you think i’d waste my time coming to find you like this?" he continues. "get real."
then— because he’s bakugo katsuki, and he doesn’t do half-measures, he adds. "...i like you. happy?"
you grin now, fully. the smile he's missed so fucking badly. "was that so hard?"
Enemies → lovers, Munson siblings, idiots in love, kinda grumpy x sunshine if ya squint, s4/s5 canon-adjacent (w/ more major changes happening later)
CW: 18+ MDNI; language, teasing/verbal harassment, bickering, uncomfortable convos/flirting, sibling fighting (mild), brief "fake dating", Christmas (aah!), sexually suggestive language at times. Canon -- discovery of a dead body.
WC: ~6.5K
- November 1985 -
Steve and I are the only ones working on this particular Thursday. It's been unseasonably hot for Hawkins all week, temps soaring close to 90°F and it was humid as hell to boot. Steve's out on the floor doing the usual organizing and alphabetizing, and I'm at the front desk with my feet on the counter and the little oscillating desk fan positioned between my legs so it can waft a cooling breeze up my body.
Around noon someone came in, the cool air immediately being sucked away and in influx of thick, warm air invading the space. Steve and I both let out an audible groan, both from the temperature shift and because of all the people that could come in, it had to be Creepy Clark from the print shop.
“Close the door man, you're letting the cold out.”
“Well, hello to you too, Kitty Kat.”
Clark graduated like four years before Steve and I, and has been mildly obsessed with me since I started at this job. The print shop is just across the street, and though our work schedules make it incredibly difficult to cross paths (thankfully), he still manages to weasel his way into my day at least two or three times a week.
I say nothing, kicking off of the ledge of the counter and spinning my chair to face completely away from him. He, of course, doesn't take the hint -- be it from obliviousness or inconsideration, I don't know -- and rounds the corner to continue this one-sided conversation.
“Hot one today.”
“Astute.”
“Yeah, you could say that. Hey, um…”
Fuuuuuuck. Here it comes.
I already know by the way he's licking his dry, cracked lips and nervously flitting his eyes around the store what's coming next. I also know that he has to know what my answer is going to me, judging by my audible teeth-grinding and completely tensed posture. But, he shoots his shot anyway (again -- oblivious or inconsiderate? It's anyone's guess).
“Would you wanna go out tomorrow night? They're doing weekend showings of Home Sweet Home all month.”
Now, company excluded, that's actually a pretty great offer. A Thanksgiving slasher flick is right up my fucking alley, and Clark knows it. Still…
“Clark, hon, I'd rather eat glass. Now can you please buy something or leave?”
“Please, Kitty? Just gimme a chance. I really like you, I think you're so cool, and you're smoking hot –”
“Oh, wow! I'm cool and smoking hot?? Well why didn't you say so before? Of course I'll go out with you!”
His smile droops and eyelids narrow inquisitively. “You're being sarcastic, aren't you?”
“Yes. Those were selling points for me, not why I should be going out with you.”
“I'll buy you dinner.”
“I can make my own dinner.”
“Oh come on. Where the hell else do you have to be?”
“She's going out with me, dickhead.” Steve appears and puts a lean arm around me before I have a chance at a rebuttal, squaring his shoulders up with Clark's.
Clark cackles, snorts even. “Sure. Katherine Munson is dating Steve Harrington?”
God, am I really about to stoop this low? Is this what I've been reduced to? Lying about dating the guy that helped assure my status as a slut-loser-freak in high school, just to avoid facing some pushy asshole who desperately wants to see my tits?
I guess if I'm weighing those options, at least Steve can look me in the eye when he talks to me.
I snake my arm around Steve's waist with a defiant glare to Clark. His cocky smile instantly vanishes, replaced with a twisted mask of frustration.
“Since when?” He spits out. Literally, spittle flying all over the countertop.
“Pretty new. But it's been great, right sweetheart?” Steve smiles down at me, his big puppy-dog eyes almost chocolatey-brown in the low-lights of the store, and yet despite the dimness of the room there's still a twinkle in them. Without warning, I stand up on my tip-toes and kiss him on the cheek.
“So, so happy babe.” I say in a flirty, out of character, Valley Girl adjacent tone.
Then, in a whiplash-inducing 180°, I shoot daggers at Clark, set my mouth in a firm, hard line, and bark, “Now rent something or get the fuck outta the store, creep.”
Clark makes a garbled huffing sound as he storms out, and the second he's gone I immediately rip out of Steve's hold. He clears his throat and wanders back around the counter to continue whatever he was doing before, but his movements looked robotic -- hollow.
I clear my throat. “Thanks for, uh – getting Clark outta my hair. He's such a...”
“...total dick? No problem. I wanted him gone, too.”
"Right. Totally. Hey, you care if I take my fifteen?"
"Nah, go for it."
I slip casually into the back room, pressing my forehead against the cool metal of the door as I close it to soothe my feverish skin.
We don't mention it again.
•••
A few weeks later my shitty old beater craps out on me and has to sit in the shop for God knows how long. I show up for my shift drenched in sweat from having to walk the four miles from my trailer, and Steve and Robin are just standing there staring at me like I had two heads.
Robin pulled me aside later to tell me it was because my white T-shirt was damp, putting my tits on near full display. That was fun. But they were both upstanding citizens about it in the moment and concentrated real hard on keeping their eyes on my face.
I bitch and moan about my automotive woes for the first twenty minutes of my shift, slamming down tapes and kicking boxes around, until Steve folds his arms across his chest casually and offers to drive me until my car's ready.
I laugh bitterly and shake my head. “You really like trying to get me in that BMW, dontcha Harrington?”
“It's not like that. I just don't wanna have to stand next to you for 8 hours when you're all sweaty and gross for the next month or whatever."
I wheeze out a laugh and reply, "Touché."
Steve's shoulders relax, and Robin rolls her eyes.
"I don't...get you two."
We didn't argue with her. I don't think we got us, either.
For all of the shifts we worked together for those next three weeks, which ended up being like ten at the very least, he would show up to our trailer promptly in time, then drop me back home without fail.
The first couple of rides were quiet and weird as I sat uncomfortably stiff in the seat and just stared out the window. I couldn't help but picture the last ride I took in this car -- the night of my "fake revenge date" and our shouting match in the parking lot of the movie theater. Not my best hour, but it felt right in the moment.
Then I noticed he would have the radio tuned quietly to a hard rock station that Eddie and I love, but that I'm damn near certain Steve Harrington never listens to recreationally.
Eventually he'd add some casual morning chatter: How's it going? How'd you sleep? Blah, blah, blah. We'd commiserate over bad customers and creepy things Keith said in passing, how shitty the old computer system was, and how bad I wanted the assistant manager job.
One morning I finally asked, “So why'd you want this job? Your family's loaded, I doubt the mouthwatering salary at Family Video is making much of a difference for you.”
“Oh, yeah. No, it's not for the money. I, uh..." He clears his throat and shifts in his seat as the topic lasers in on him for once. "I didn't get into any of the schools I applied to, and my dad wants me to...learn responsibility. So, yeah. I kinda have to have this job if I wanna keep living rent free. Which I do, so.”
“Jesus Christ, the plights of the rich. Your punishment is to work a minimum wage job. Insane.”
“Yeah. But I mean, it fills the time, too. I get to hang out with Robin, and see –”
The words get stuck in his throat, but our eyes meet and grow wide with expectations that neither of us are quite ready to face, so we do what we're best at -- deflecting.
“--and see Keith, right?”
Steve laughs, relieving some of the tension.
“Oh, for sure. You know he's like a brother to me.”
“A twin, really.”
“God --"
“The resemblance is uncanny.”
"Okay, stop --"
"I think it's the hair."
"Too far!"
•••
Neither of us would ever admit it to the other, but I think we were both a little disappointed when I got the call about my car being ready for pick-up.
I was really gonna miss…the Beamer.
•••
In late November, I finally got the assistant manager job.
Steve was on shift, stuffing envelopes to send out late fee notices, when Keith crept out of the back office and came up behind me as I cleaned the inside of the store windows.
“Munson." He bellows, making me jump. I'm prepared to have an attitude, as Keith knows how I feel about being snuck up on, but he softens every prickle in my body when he says plainly, "Congrats. You're assistant manager.”
My scowling mask instantly dissolves and a small, disbelieving laugh tears out of me. When I glance over Keith's shoulder Steve is beaming, but his eyes were still focused down on the envelopes like he wasn't paying attention at all.
He holds his arms out, stiff and mechanical, and asks, “Do you wanna hug?”
I clear my throat and put my hands in my pants pockets.
“Um…I'll pass. I'm not, uh, much of a hugger. Thanks though.”
“Good. That was just a test. No fraternizing with the staff now that you're a boss.” Keith glares at Steve with the side of his eyes and I nod solemnly like I completely understand – like it was ever going to be an issue. He retreats back towards his office, but before he closes himself inside he adds, “Oh, and you'll be doing the Thanksgiving closing shift. Okay, bye.”
“Oh, that motherf–” I grit between my teeth, rolling my eyes and continuing to clean the windows with a little more rage-induced vigor.
“Nice work, boss.” I hear softly behind me.
I tilt my head in Steve's direction. “Thanks, kid.”
He chuckles. I fight the urge to smile, and lose.
- December 1985 -
Christmas was one of the few holidays where the store closed, so we were all buzzing with excitement as the holidays approached.
Robin gushed about visiting her Nana in Michigan for a week, and how her family did White Elephant and made homemade gingerbread houses. I mentioned that we usually do a small Secret Santa amongst the three of us, and then Eddie and I would sit around eating cookies and watching the scariest Christmas-themed horror movies.
“There are Christmas horror movies?” Steve asks, voice laced with both condescension and astonishment.
“You’re really hopeless, you know that? You work in a fucking video store, Steve.”
I storm over to the horror section and pick up The Dorm That Dripped Blood, Silent Night, Deadly Night, To All a Goodnight, even fucking Gremlins, and hold them all up in exasperation as evidence.
“Oh hey! The Gremlins one, that's got, uh, Phoebe Cates! She's the girl from Fast Times –”
“Yes, Steve. The boobies, you've mentioned her a few times.” I huff, putting all of my precious cinema back on the shelves and mentally apologizing to the cardboard cutout of Ms. Cates for the sheer disrespect.
“Look, I just look at the first three letters to shelve ‘em and I’m on to the next one. That's just…efficiency.”
“Sure, we’ll call it that.”
Robin chuckles and puts her chin in her hand, elbow on the counter. She's mused on multiple occasions how Steve and I provide endless entertainment in our mutual quests to annoy one another.
“What are you doing this year, dingus? Any schmoozie Harrington soirées?”
Steve's demeanor shifts, a wall instantly going up. This always happens when his family gets brought up, I've noticed. He looks away at his hands, suddenly intently focused on fiddling with some busted hinge on a VHS case.
“Uh, nah. My parents are out of town till the new year, so I’ll just be hanging around. Maybe see if I can manage to find a date to pass the time. Sit at home, watching actual Christmas movies.”
That last one was meant as a playful jab at me, but I forget to take the bait. I'm still stuck on the mention of Steve finding a date. Robin nudges my shoulder hard enough to pull me back in, though only partially.
“I think that's your cue to go off on him, Munson. Let him have it. Bring the pain."
“Huh? Sorry, I stopped listening. You're just…so, so boring, Harrington.”
I think he can tell my heart's not in it.
•••
“Hey, um…I think your lack of film knowledge is actually criminally disturbing.” I stop him as we're packing together our things and locking up the store for the night.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it, alright…wait, you're not firing me are you?”
“No, idiot. You're the only one here other than Keith that can reach the high shelves.”
“Oh, great, glad I can be of service.” He quips sarcastically.
“I just…if you don’t have anything better to do, um, for Christmas? You could come over to ours, or something. And I can…educate you. On films. It'd be like…work stuff.”
Jesus H. fucking Christ on the cross, I'm pathetic.
All humor and edge vanishes from his face as he seems genuinely taken aback. Way back. “Oh…I don’t wanna…”
I shake my head viciously and walk faster towards my car in the lot, trying to save myself from even an ounce more of shame. “It’s fine, it was stupid. Don’t worry about it, sorry I asked. Later, Steve.”
He catches the cold tips of my fingers in his warm ones. “No, hey! I was gonna say I don’t wanna, like, crash your family Christmas party or whatever.”
My brow pinches together. “...Out of everyone there I like you the least, and I’m the one inviting you, so…?”
“Mm-kay, I'm gonna try and not be insanely offended by that…um, but okay? Yeah, I'd like that. Should I bring anything?”
“Um, yeah. Something…expensive.”
He chortles. “That's so vague, what are you talking about?”
“Well, I don't know what rich people eat at Christmas, Steve! Caviar? Fancy wine? A diamond necklace for the lady perhaps?” I flap my arms animatedly, as I walk to the car.
Steve watches her as she crosses the lot, clearly flustered but still humoring him. Still being open with me, he thought. He'd do just about anything to keep her from shutting him out again.
“Oh hey wait!” I slam my bag on the hood of my car and pull out a little notebook, scribbling down Eddie's, Uncle Wayne's, and my own name on a piece of paper. I rip them into slips and hand one to Steve. “Your Secret Santa.”
Then I scrawl Steve's onto a small piece and add it to the pile of folded slips in my pocket, prepared to parcel them out to my family when I get home.
Steve peeks at the paper and laughs through his nose. “Alright then.”
"That good, huh?"
"It'll be interesting to say the least."
"You can say that again. Night, Harrington."
•••
Our trailer isn’t fancy by any means, but I do love the way it looks at Christmastime. The little plastic tree aglow in the corner dotted with candy-colored rainbow lights and strings of tinsel hanging off the branches, and the added warmth from baking delicious cookies and making our holiday dinner (our big splurge for the year) makes this place feel like a palace to me. The lights lacing the trim of the trailer outside cast their cozy warm colors over the window blinds too, and it’s all just really magical.
We always wear fabulously garish Christmas sweaters, Uncle Wayne usually drinks way too much and starts singing both the boy and girl parts of “Baby It's Cold Outside”, and we eat sugar cookies until our stomachs hurt. It's one night where none of us have work, schedules, school, practice, games, or get-togethers. It's just…the Munsons.
Well, tonight, the Munsons…plus a Harrington.
The pot roast is resting and smells incredible; my macaroni casserole is warming in the oven, also incredible; cookies sprinkled with red and green sugar crystals are piled high on an old Santa Claus platter that belonged to our mom. She loved Christmas, was actually the one who made us love it and take it so seriously. We may not have much in this world, but we've always kept today.
There's a knock at the door. I jump to answer it before either of the other two can. I may have only told them I was bringing a friend. I know Eddie was hoping it was a girl, maybe Robin, but he was about to be sorely disappointed.
I pause at the small, round mirror on the wall beside the door and primp my hair a little (what the fuck is that all about) and smooth my crimson red snowman sweater over my chest.
I open the trailer door, and have to laugh at how insanely uncomfortable Steve Harrington already looks standing on my porch with wine and gifts in his arms.
“H-hey. Merry Christmas, Munson.”
“What's the matter, Harrington, you look like you've seen a ghost?”
He glances over his shoulder nervously, then back at me.
“Yeah, there's a guy wandering around in nothing but a Santa hat and his underwear, so I'd like to come inside now, please.”
I giggle and he looks appalled.
“That's just Ralph. He's spreading some Christmas cheer.”
Steve leans in and murmurs, “Well, he was spreading something, and I wanna come in. So move it, Munson.”
I roll my eyes and stand aside, ushering Steve in to escape the chilly December air. I close the trailer door, turn, and the stand-off has begun. Steve is frozen in place, stiff as a board, as my brother scowls at him from the kitchen with half a sugar cookie hanging out of his mouth.
Eddie's eyes flicker over to me. “Steve. Fucking. Harrington...That's the friend you're bringing over for Christmas?”
“Friend?” Steve asks me quietly. I smack him on the shoulder, not so playfully as I intended.
I straighten my shoulders and sigh deeply. “Yes, Steve is our guest tonight. He is a sad loser with nowhere to go for Christmas, so I, the benevolent woman that I am, invited him to ours. So, Munson family – please behave yourselves.” I lean in to Steve and whisper, “and you, don't make any sudden movements.”
Steve purses his lips and finally nods hello to Eddie and Uncle Wayne. “Hello. It's true, I'm a…sad loser. But thanks for having me.”
Eddie squints dubiously and shoves the rest of the cookie into his mouth, crushing it down and swallowing it while holding his eyes on Steve. Wayne just sips from his beer, gives Steve a cordial slap on the shoulder, then wanders over to the recliner in the living room.
“Here, lemme take some of this –” I grab the two bottles of wine from the crook of his arm and glance at the labels, my eyebrows raising with interest.
“Found ‘em in my parents' wine cellar, they're probably expensive but I dunno.”
“Well done, Steven. These’ll do just fine.”
Eddie snatches one from my hand and reads over the bottle, then pulls a Swiss army knife from the drawer and pops the cork. He swigs directly from the bottle and grimaces, smacking his lips at the strong, bitter taste.
“Goddamn. Yeah that's good shit.” He takes another deeper glug as I put the other on the counter.
“Steve, you can put your gift over by the tree. We'll open ‘em after dinner.”
“He's doing the Secret Santa, too? What're you married now?”
“Eddie! Dude fucking chill.” I growl low enough for hopefully just him to hear and punch him on the shoulder. He flicks my ear too hard in return, making me hiss and rear back to smack him again.
“Enough.” Wayne grumbles from the La-Z-Boy. This is nothing new in the Munson home.
•••
The roast turns out perfect, the casserole flavorful and delicious, and Steve, ever the charmer, worms his way into easy conversation with my uncle in no time at all.
Between Eddie and I, the alt-freaks of the century, Wayne never gets to dish about sports and stupid shit like that. We're clueless. But Steve, on the other hand, is a veritable fountain of knowledge on the subject. At one point he actually makes Wayne burst out laughing at some ridiculous baseball metaphor that has Eddie and I just sharing sidelong, confused, (albeit impressed) glances.
When it comes time for gifts, Eddie hands Wayne a hefty brown paper bag that clinks with a very familiar sound. He pulls out his favorite beer and a pack of cigarettes with a content, knowing smile. It was like he was seeing an old friend.
Wayne then hands me a small bag with some heftiness to it. I rustle the tissue paper around and gasp when I pull out a big, fat jar of pickles -- my go-to snack since I was a kid.
“You found the spicy ones??” I squeal. He nods proudly, ruffling my hair.
“Gotcha some little hair doodads, too. Lady at the shop showed ‘em to me, said they were real popular with the girls lately.”
I dig eagerly through the bag, and sure enough at the bottom there's a little package of colorful banana clips. I twist them around in my hands, trying to plot out in my head how the fuck someone goes about putting these in their hair. I usually just wear mine wild, pulled high in a scrunchie if needed, but this baffles me.
“Oh, shit. Fancy stuff. I'm gonna have to play around with these later, I don't even know where to start…”
“Here.” Steve says softly, polishing off his fourth cookie of the night and holding out his hand for the package. I hand it over tentatively and he slips one free from the plastic, signaling with his finger for me to turn around.
I do, Wayne and Eddie watching us with amused interest. My cheeks go hot and I have to close my eyes just so I don't have to look at their stupid, know-it-all grins anymore.
I feel Steve's fingers in my curls, gathering them back as best he can. Then I feel the teeth of the clip graze my scalp, and he carefully pinches the end together at the crown of my head.
“There ya go. Easy.”
Her hair is out of her face for once, and he can see the soft slope of her cheeks and the smooth curve of her jaw. Her neck is completely exposed, long and slender, and she has a beauty mark where it meets her left shoulder that kind of looks like a sideways heart. He can tell that she's blushing, which makes him go warm and tingly all over, too. She's fucking beautiful.
“You use these a lot, do you?”
“Not personally, no.” He flutters his lashes sardonically. “At away games I had to help the cheerleaders with their hair sometimes, so I got practice.”
Eddie snorts behind me, and I just aggressively flip my bouncy new updo at him.
“Want Steve to do yours too, Eds? It's a two-pack.”
“I'll pass, Madonna, but thank you.”
I stick out my tongue and Steve hands Eddie a small, neatly wrapped parcel. Eddie arches a brow at him, then eagerly unwraps it and his eyes blow wide with lust.
“Woah, dude. The 'Unearthed Arcana'?!”
“Yeah, I uh – I asked Henderson to help me out, hope it's alright. I'm hopeless when it comes to this stuff.”
“Oh, it's fucking rad. S’gonna change the campaign for sure, the guys are gonna freak.” Eddie's already trailing off, fingers frantically flipping through pages and eyes scanning the new manual.
“Nice one, Harrington.” I bump his shoulder lightly with mine and hand him my gift, also wrapped in paper, but not quite as neatly as his was.
The corners of his eyes crinkle with the force of his smile as he takes it from me. He slips his finger under the flap and tears the wrapping free, a cackle erupting from his chest as soon as he sees the title.
“It's your favorite, right?” I lean in devilishly.
He shakes the VHS copy of Evil Dead feigning solemnity. “Top three, for sure.”
“Aw, dude, sick. Wanna watch it?” Eddie perks up when he sees the tape in Steve's hands.
“No, asshole.” I interrupt, subtly shifting the pressure off Steve. “I wanna watch Gremlins, it's Christmas.”
“Fiiiine. Hey Steve, you seen Fast Times?”
•••
The movie ends, credits rolling. Wayne is passed out in the recliner, so I take his dwindling cigarette and stamp it out in the ashtray nearby, then toss a blanket over him.
Eddie's open-mouthed and snoring on the couch as well, one of the bottles of wine Steve brought emptied and nestled in the crook of his arm like a little newborn baby. I carefully wiggle it away, and when I turn Steve is already holding out a half-filled trash bag for me.
“The movie actually wasn't bad, I liked it. Creepy, but cute.”
“See? Christmas horror -- never knew you needed it in your life, didja?”
“Certainly not till you came along.”
I dramatically take a bow, letting the praise wash right over me. "Welcome to the dark side, my friend."
We tidy up the kitchen, turning off the stove and packing away the leftovers for tomorrow. The second bottle of Steve's wine sits there on the counter, untouched. I hold it up.
"Hey, wanna take this one back? We didn't open it."
"Nah, keep it. Actually I, uh…got you something else, too. To say thanks for inviting me.”
Steve pulls a small box out of his pants pocket and hands it to me. I set the wine bottle down and take the gift, my thumb stroking softly over his when I do.
I remove the lid and my lips part in shock. A tiny, silver bat pendant on a delicate silver chain sits on a little foam block. I pull it out and marvel at the beautiful, intricate details, then immediately secure it around my neck. The bat sits just below the dip of my collarbone, so light I can barely feel it there.
Physically feel it, anyway. The emotional weight it carries is pretty fucking dense. Steve smiles and nods at it admiringly.
“You didn't have to…” My voice barely comes out above a whisper.
“I know. I wanted to. You didn't have to, either.”
“Yeah…but I wanted to, too.” I admit, looking down at my shoes.
"Hey, can I ask you something?"
Our eyes meet and my throat suddenly feels like I've swallowed a fistful of cotton balls. My hands are trembling, and I feel a bead of sweat trickling down my lower back.
"Hm?" Is all I can manage.
"...Did you actually want a jar of pickles for Christmas?"
I guffaw, slapping a hand over my mouth so I don't wake the guys. We stifle our giggles long enough for me to tell him, "Yeah, I'm not much for sweets. I'm a sour girl, Uncle Wayne gets me."
"Huh. I'll have to remember that. No chocolates for Kitty Munson."
"No sir. Better stick 'em in some brine if you wanna impress me."
After the kitchen and living room are mostly tidied, Steve gathers up his things and prepares to go. I lean against the open door frame and watch as he descends steps, stopping at the bottom and looking up at me one more time. The Christmas lights cast their pinkish glow over his face, just making him look even more soft and unfairly inviting.
“Merry Christmas, Kitty Munson.”
“Merry Christmas, Steve Harrington.”
- February 1986 -
A Valentine? A goddamn Valentine. I haven't gotten a stupid Valentine since the third grade, when we still had to make those shoe-box mailboxes wrapped in tissue paper and stick at least one card or a piece of candy in everyone's. Once it became an optional affair…well, I was just never anyone's option.
But here it is. A ridiculous fluffy pink teddy bear with hearts for eyes and little paws clutching a small jar of pickles. My favorite kind, the spicy ones. I snatch up the note the bear is sitting on, and in scratchy, all-cap letters it says:
FOR MY SOUR GIRL
STEVE
He must have left it last night on his closing shift. He knew I'd be here first thing in the morning. I go to the back and open up the employee directory (it's a single sticky note in Keith's copy of the employee handbook) and punch Steve's home number into the phone.
He answers, voice groggy and thick with sleep. “H’llo?”
“What kinda shit are you trying to pull, Harrington?”
“Mm, you got my gift?” He moans, sounding like he's stretching. He must've just rolled out of bed. Makes sense, since it's barely 7 AM.
“Sure did. The creepy thing is staring at me right now. Trying to entice me to touch it with pickles. Is this a threat?”
“Oh my God, you're ridiculous. I knew you wouldn't eat candy if I got it, so you get pickles. Whaddya want from me?”
“Well, I kinda didn't want anything if I'm being honest, Steve.”
“Oh…”
I can almost see the disappointment on his face just from the dejection in his voice.
And…no, I wasn't mad that Steve got me something for Valentine's day. I'm mad that I even wanted something for Valentine's day to begin with. Kitty Munson hates this shit, this huge commercial holiday, scamming people into buying romance and ostracizing the ones that get nothing (which is usually the side I'm on). I feel like I'm betraying myself, or a version of me at least, if I accept this.
Not to mention the implications of accepting a Valentine from Steve. Is this me cracking? Caving in? Letting go of all the resentment and bitterness that's still lingering in the back of my mind? Working beside him for all these months has absolutely shown me how much growth he's done since high school. He's leagues away from the King of Hawkins High that I once knew, and for the better. But again…am I betraying myself if I let him in?
“Did you get these for everyone? Like all your friends and stuff?”
“No. Just you.”
“Fuck that's even worse!” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“How is that worse?” He hears crunching and smacking on the his end and smiles to himself. “Are you eating them?”
“Shut up, eating helps me think. Later, Harrington.”
So, she has something to think about, he wonders as he flops back down onto his bed. Sleep won't come as easy now, with all the thoughts running through his head.
I down half the jar in the empty store as I stand there and stare into nothingness, ruminating.
I think that lastly, and most trivially, I'm annoyed that Steve got me something and I didn't get him anything...because maybe I'd like for him to know that sometimes I think of him first, too.
- March 1986 -
"I'm just saying, if I were in the same position it wouldn't even be an issue."
"What do you mean?"
"Umm, because I'd rather die painfully than fuck one of my parents? That's disgusting, Steve."
Steve's trying his darndest to defend Back to the Future to me, but unfortunately it's an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, as per usual.
Now, no one can ever know this, but I don't think the movie is that bad. I just really, really have a good time arguing with Steve. You get the guy going and he can argue with a brick wall, it's a great way to pass the time.
It's been a painfully slow day otherwise. I'm slumped against the heel of my hand, seconds from dozing off, when Steve's huge hand smacks the countertop in front of me. I reel back with a snort, swiping a little drool away from the corner of my mouth.
“Look alive, Munson. Don't leave me hanging”
“You're a big boy, you'll manage.” I groan, stretching my arms high above my head with an obscene yawn.
Steve's eyes flick down to her cleavage while hers are momentarily squeezed shut, and the little bat charm glints in the light. He smiles wide.
“What's gotcha all giddy, Harrington?”
“You're still wearing the bat.”
“Of course. It's expensive jewelry, why wouldn't I wear it?"
His Adam's apple leaps in his throat, and the look he gives me is a lot less jovial and teasing. The air is becoming denser.
“Is that the only reason you wear it? Every day?”
“...I don't wear it…every day.” I feel myself wanting to clam up, shut the door, lock the gates, but I try, I will myself to keep them open. Just see where this goes, girl.
“Every day you're here.”
“How d'you know that?”
“Cause I pay attention.”
“Steve...you have the attention span of a cocker spaniel.”
“Well, I pay a lot of attention to you.”
My heart stutters. “Oh yeah? Why's that?” I lean forward onto my elbows, about halfway across the counter.
Steve bends down to put his weight on his own, bringing his face just inches from mine. His eyes are so warm, his face relaxed and tenderly smiling. His pinky finger brushes mine, and just that small contact feels like an atom bomb going off in my chest.
“You're…a lot of fun to pay attention to.”
I chuckle, biting the tip of my tongue between my teeth. “You gotta work on your compliments.”
“I'll workshop it, get back to you later.”
“‘Kay.”
His breath is warm and minty, and his tongue slides over his full lower lip, leaving it moist and glistening and tempting.
The phone rings sharply, and our foreheads knock together with a dull thud.
“Aah, fuck!” I suck in a breath sharply between my teeth and rub the sore spot. Steve winces, one hand on his hip and one on his head. After a beat we give each other a small, knowing smile that says: To be continued.
I pick the receiver up off the hook.
"Family Video, how can I--"
The frantic voice of my brother can be heard on the other end of the line, screaming and babbling incoherently. The signal is cutting in and out and I can't make out any specifics of what he's saying. I just know he sounds terrified.
"Eddie? Eddie, calm down, dude, I can't understand...Eddie? Edward!"
He faintly curses under his breath and says something like "Sorry, Kitty" before the line cuts out. I place the phone back on the cradle with trembling hands, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I've never heard Eddie sound so panicked. It takes a few seconds before I register Steve snapping his fingers a few inches from my face, and reality crashes back down around me.
"Hey, Munson! What the hell's going on? Who was it?"
"Just...it was Eddie. He's freaking out. I think something's really wrong."
Steve hasn't often seen me stripped of the prickly demeanor I wear like armor. This is me raw, exposed, off-guard, and quite frankly, scared shitless.
He feels a strong pull to become that armor for her right now.
"Hey, it's okay. C'mon, I'll drive you home. Maybe he's just...I dunno...having a bad trip or something. Is that a thing?"
"I guess, maybe. Who'll watch the store?"
"It's fine. I'll put the 'Be Back in 15' sign on the door and by then we'll be closed. No big deal. We'll just lock up."
All I can manage is another nod and a sniffle to ward away the tears that threaten to spill over. And rest assured, I'm gonna kill my brother if this is something as stupid as a bad batch of shrooms.
•••
Steve slowly brings the Beamer to a stop in the patch of dead grass in front of our trailer. I run across the small yard and take the brief set of steps up to the metal door. This has been our home for years, but there is a new sense of unease as I approach. I have a key, but I feel compelled to knock anyway.
"Eddie, it's me. You in there?"
No response comes from inside. I don't even hear the music that would typically be drifting from Eddie's stereo. He should be home from school by now, and he's not the type for a lot of after-school extracurriculars.
I twist the knob and find the door unlocked. It swings open easily. The lights in the trailer are completely out, and because it's dark outside already it's pitch dark inside. There are papers and junk scattered all over the floor where I can see. I call out again, unable to hide the panic in my voice.
"Eddie??"
Steve touches the small of my back and I nearly shed my fucking skin. He holds up both hands in surrender.
"Shit, sorry!"
“St-Steve. You gotta light in your Beamer?”
He nods and jogs to the car, opening the trunk and rummaging around for his emergency light. I squint into the darkness, trying to let my eyes adjust. I know the trailer like the back of my hand, I could just feel around for a light switch, but every instinct in my bones is telling me to stay right the fuck here.
Then I think I can start to make out a busted-up mannequin of some sort. It wouldn't surprise me entirely if Eddie was working on some creepy art project with stuff he found in the department store dumpster. He'd done it before. But this mannequin seemed to be wearing a cheerleading uniform.
Specifically a Hawkins High cheerleading uniform, the little 'HHS' patch visibly embroidered in bold white thread on the emerald green arm. The lights in here are just beginning to barely flicker.
Steve arrives back at my side with the light, smacks it a couple of times on the side, and lets the beam streak across our small living room.
He points it at the form on the floor, and immediately drops it as I begin to scream.
Sorry about this, but it's been stuck in my head for a couple days and I think you're the person to bother with it.
Berdly's name is, as far as we are aware, Berdly. His name is likely meant to invoke the word "Bird", because he's a bluebird, right? But if that's the case, why not just name him Birdly? I don't know of a real name that's spelt _erdly for his name to be based on (Bradley, maybe? That doesn't have an e in the middle though), and there are other animal-based characters in the game who have their base species as their name with no modifications (the Cattenheimers use cat instead of, say kat, the Wet-Nose-Bandits have names with dog in them instead of... Dawg? I don't actually know what you could use in place of dog but the point still stands). Why does Berdly break the precedent set by Catty, Dogaressa, Dogamy, etc. all the way back in Undertale of using their animal base in their names as is? Why does he change the "I" to an "E"?
Well, there is another instance of an I to E word transformation in the game. Ice-E's P"E"zza. For some reason, Ice-E replaces the I in pizza with an E.
This connection is already absurd, but I'm about to go completely off the rails by attempting to connect Ice-E to Berdly even further. When speaking to PizzaPants, he says his manager is always telling him the following:
* "Be a team player, there's no I in PEZZA!"
This appears to parallel the way that Berdly has consistently attempted to be helpful to others (Examples: volunteering at the librarby, attempting to open a dark fountain at the end of chapter 2 to make a better world for him and Noelle).
There's also the whole "ice" thing. Ice-E is an ice cube, that much is obvious. Berdly, however, doesn't have any connections to ice, right? There's nothing in the game that would connect our bluebird of good fortune to ice, right?
Anyway, after Berdly gets turned into an Ice Cub"E" in the weird route, he occupies the same hospital bed that The Warrior did in Chapter 1. ...Which doesn't say much because there's only 1 unoccupied bed in the hospital but these straws need grasping.
And yet the connections can get more tenuous! In the Undertale 10th Anniversary stream, the character that everyone is assuming is Berdly's mom teaches at Hotland High. What is the mascot of Hotland High? Fire-E, a recolor of Ice-E that everyone hates. Toby even calls explicit attention to it!
Anyway, sorry for that (and double sorry if you've already gone through this string of "conn"E"ctions" yourself).
After recollecting myself for a minute from remembering Pizzapants's hilarious "YES THERE IS YOU JUST TOOK IT OUT" expression, I think this is a pretty neat observation!
The reason I can think of for why "Berdly" is spelled like that is because of him wielding a halberd in combat (given how Deltarune was planned out in advance I don't doubt the Holy Halbird being a little more significant), along with Queen’s nickname "Burghley" being a play on the germanic "Burg/Berg" meaning "Castle" or "Mountain" respectively (I thought this was Toby was doing with Gerson Boom and Ms Boom since the surname similarly means "Tree" or "Mast", before I found out it's a smash bros reference lmao. still might be the case tho!)
Not to mention Dess decided the best way to deal with Noelle's fear of ICE-E due to Kris's pranks was Arson And Violence by burning his eyes out, plus Hometown’s ICE-E also seems to be getting replaced soon...
I honestly don't have anything to add here other than the "Nightmare" snowman which is also connected to ICE-E as well as Reaper Bird through flavour text (plus I think that Snowman thing may be the new mascot in Deltarune judging from the ch4 replacement notice), but wow this is something I never would have noticed myself since I still haven't fully processed the livestream.
These two are the biggest and baddest of Stars. The two rose up to the highest rankings in popularity really fast. Rumors kicked their path to popularity up CRAZY.
The Redhead is the biggest football player on campus figurately and physically. A lot of people on campus genuinely were SOOOOO afraid of him when he first showed up. I mean dude is built like a fucking tank. With huge veiny arms and sharp shark teeth. Uhhh what was I talking about?
OHHHHH.... and the blonde. He was immediately picked up on by everyone because of his rash, violent, and explosive personality (pun intended) He was kicked out of his last university for hospitalizing his classmate. Dude's a total monster or at least he was before he met his boyfriend. After that he changed big time. Full twink mode. Welll not really.....
▪ ÉJĪRŌÜ:
𝐀𝐠𝐞: 20 !
𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 6'2 !
𝐖𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 123 pounds !
𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐞: Mixed: Asian, white, and black !
𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝: Surprisingly for the social and friendly jock a lot is not known about him other than he's smoking hot and has a crazy batshit boyfriend. He doesn't like to talk about his past because of his middle school experiences.
▸✩: 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝟏: Campus freaks out at the news that the beloved jock has come out as BI!!! Not that the news crew has any opinion on the matter...
▸✩: 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝟐: Many believe the jock to be secret sub! despite that friendly face and the arm placements on his boyfriend many believe behind closed doors that this redhead is the subbiest of subs out there! DEBUNKED! BAKŪGŌÜ has said out in public "Fuck off nosey paparazzi shits! All you need to know is that my Kiri has cock and he knows how to give it good!"
▸✩: 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝟑: The jock is believed to have a breeding and biting kink! I mean have you SEEN those teeth!? CLARITY UNSURE: while the redhead has not denied the statement his lover snickers at the headline.
▸✩: 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝟒: ÉJĪRŌÜ AND HIS LOVER CAUGHT IN THE LOCKER ROOM MAKING LOVE!??????? Was taken down by the news crew the same day.
▸✩: 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝟓: ÉJĪRŌÜ is suspected to be in an affair with a NERD!? People are curious to see what this could mean for his dynamite guy! DEBUNKED after a very... very... messy fight that ended with Campus security.
—"I wasn't too shaken up by the news, I trust my Kats. He wouldn't do a thing especially with that guy. Aint that right kitty kat?"—
—"Die, Idiot..."—
Are we interrupting something?
▪ KĀTSŪKÏ:
𝐀𝐠𝐞: 21 !
𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 6'1 !
𝐖𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 176 pounds !
𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐞: Mixed: Asian and white !
𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝: This explosive blonde comes from a really well off family. His mom is a model and known for her freakishly young looking and healthy skin. She uses and makes her own skin care products! You can imagine those two occupations can drag in a lot of dough... And his dad! well if that wasn't enough hes a scientist. studying how substances can effect the body. Kinda funny how their jobs go hand in hand like that. Too bad he had to be such a brat
▸✩: 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝟏: He has a crush on the nerd in his literature class. Many believe this because of the way he yells at him but to us its quiet straight that he just hates him.
▸✩: 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝟐:He likes really nerdy stuff like heroes and even have a hero persona! something about Dynamite or ground something....
▸✩: 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝟑: HE LIKES DOMMY MOMMIES!??? No, hes gay and wears it like a fucking badge of honor. Just check his Instagram post...
Guess who's back from their crash out about the YHS canon ending to talk about this damn series? It's meeeee! so obviously you guys are here to know about how i think the story would have to go about so the canon ending actually happens, because that excerpt Kat gave us was basically "evelyn finds out -> yumi pushes her off a roof -> evelyn goes into a coma -> wakes up later and pretends she has amnesia" and that has no context whatsoever about HOW we get there.
SO WELCOME TO:
Let's discuss: How we can get to the Canon Ending of YHS. (syi edition!)
wow it has been a while since my last post w this title.. buckle up, this bitch is a long one too. i even got it organized for your pretty little brains :)
first of all, i don't remember shit about s2 so im really just throwing stones here, make sure you dodge or you might get a concussion. so there may be misinformation ahead! correct me when im wrong!
second of all, this is for fun. yhs isn't continuing anyway so who gaf.
ill be using the wiki so any misinformation there is misinformation here bc i am not sitting thru like 80 eps of suffering for yall. i dont like you guys enough for that, sorry.
Established Ending.
Evelyn was supposed to find all the evidence and put Yumi in jail, but before that can happen, Yumi invites Evelyn to the rooftop and pushes her, putting her in a coma.
When Evelyn wakes from the coma, she pretends she forgot everything because she doesn't want to be targeted.
Fast forward—
we're crossing out the fast forward part for now because it's a hanging thread and we're discussing how we get to the established ending, not what's past it.
Characterizations.
Evelyn Wynd
evelyn's character is supposedly a very spirited and serious girl who is the daughter of a detective and is a private investigator.
she's also the leading mind behind the reopening of the valerie maki case.
Yumi [REDACTED]
also known as “Yandere-chan”
Not mentioned in the excerpt but canon relevant characters.
Alec
Funneh
Gold
Kyran
* (RELEVANT) Kyran is also shown to be interested in forensics, as seen in Season 1 where he tries to boil the blood in the dirt to see if it has any relation to Valerie's dog, Momo.
now that we have the established ending, characters and a list of plot relevant characters, lets start figuring out where the people from the list above are currently.
Where are Funneh and Gold?
This is genuinely one of my biggest questions because the excerpt mentions nothing about these two despite being the protagonists.
My current assumption is this:
They're dead. Yumi was able to cross them out on her hit list.
Evelyn is technically a new student to the school, a student that recently transferred to investigate the Maki case, and Funneh, Gold, and Kyran were helping her as the trio were part of Maki's friend group.
This takes out both girls at once, and also forces pressure on Kyran and Evelyn to act more rashly and gather more evidence and leads as fast as possible.
How they died is a different matter, but my guess is Yumi leads Funneh into a room via blood stains (because Funneh is known to poke around and be curious) and takes her out, followed by Gold who starts looking for Funneh after she disappears—taking them both out easily.
Where is Kyran?
In the aforementioned situation wherein Gold and Funneh die, Kyran would be the only one, other than Evelyn, that's working on cracking the Maki case.
With Gold and Funneh dead (assumed M.I.A.), the pressure doubles on both Kyran and Evelyn as it confirms their suspicion that the killer is still in school. This is beneficial to Yumi for two reasons:
1. They get reckless. They know the killer sees them, they know the killer isn't James. They're running on borrowed time. They don't know who's next.
2. They don't know Yumi is the killer.
If Yumi plays her cards right, Yumi can lure Evelyn to the roof under the guise of meeting to talk about the Maki case as Yumi knew Valerie and Yumi was close with her, or at least appeared to be.
They did partner for the talent show, after all.
Yumi invites Evelyn to the rooftop and pushes her, putting her in a coma.
Where is Alec?
now i know you were screaming at the top of your lungs for this because this entire situation does hinge on him.
With Funneh's death, Alec is crushed. She was basically the love of his life, the one who made him shy and care for her recklessness, she was the person who let him take the scholarship in Deathcon and understood the financial struggle he was in.
But also...
Yumi held Funneh's safety over his head. If she's dead... What's stopping him from going nuclear? It's not like Yumi will keep her promises.
While Alec likely doesn't have any of the files he deleted for Yumi, who says he deleted the videos of her killing other girls? Who says he doesn't have the last few kills on his hard drive? Who says he doesn't have the CCTV footage of Yumi pushing Evelyn off the roof?
No one. Because he does have it.
Hand it over to Kyran, promise his personal testimony, his chat logs with her, and... Well, it doesn't matter if Evelyn has amnesia or died. Because they have undeniable proof of everything she did.
Find all the evidence.
Where is Evelyn?
Evelyn likely wakes up after her coma to Kyran and Alec in her hospital room. She pretends to have amnesia, despite how impatient she usually is, she'll play the long game if she has to—she just needs this target off her back.
When Evelyn wakes from the coma, she pretends she forgot everything because she doesn't want to be targeted.
Alec cuts her charades and says they have undeniable evidence of what Yumi did, chatlogs of blackmail, the names of Yumi's accomplices, Yumi's motive.
Alec has everything. You get sloppy when you think someone's gonna pick up your slack, after all. The catch?
“Make sure Yumi stays in prison, and... If I'm sentenced as well, make sure Aly and my family don't struggle financially anymore.”
Put Yumi in jail.
The Aftermath.
Yumi, Celeste, and Elijah are put in jail. Alec is majorly pardoned with a bit of fighting from Kyran's end and gets a bitch ton of community service, or not. Who knows.
It's not a "happy ending" by any means. Funneh is still dead. Gold is still dead. But they got their justice. Valerie got her justice. James is freed from his jail time. Senpai gets his closure, about who killed Valerie, who destroyed his girlfriend's grave...
It hurts, though.
Why couldn't Alec say something sooner? Why didn't Alec stop her from killing all those girls? Why did it have to happen to him before he took action?
It's bitter.
It's bitter, looking back at all the times Yumi made it impossibly clear it was her who was doing all of this.
Who was making Senpai's life a living hell. But Alec was stuck. He isn't perfect. But maybe, in the future... Senpai can forgive him, in a way. Let Alec grow past his mistakes. His fatal flaws.
Maybe someday, they'll learn how to live with it.
- End.
ending notes.
aaaand that's a wrap! holy shit this took for fucking EVER. this is the second time ive written a rant that's taken a little over 3 hours. i hope you enjoyed!
again, this is just my version of how we get to a "good" ending with the canon ending kat wrote. there's very clearly a bad ending too, but kat specifically said that yumi would get put in jail in her version, so i stuck to that and tried to make it good.
do i honestly think this is how kat would've written it? no. killing off not only funneh but gold as well feels so dark, and as much as yhs is a dark series, killing yourself off feels a bit too far 😭
honestly, i was just trying to put pressure on evelyn, kyran, and alec simultaneously to push them into movement. alec especially, because evelyn can't exactly get there with him hacking into shit and deleting stuff.
ironically, i think hurting aly would also suffice in making alec fucking move. but its messier and leaves funneh and gold as plot holes. honestly a good alternative would be:
instead of funneh and gold dying—after evelyn is in a coma, yumi increases her attempts at funneh and gold's lives, and at some point funneh, aly, and gold are hanging out, and aly ends up getting injured.
alec finds out about this and does what happens in Where is Alec?
and the rest of the story continues as usual.
i would rewrite it as that but i alr spent way too much time on this, im not redoing this just for that lmfao.
Cosmic Masterlist | Poe Dameron Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader
Summary: Quality time and a day at the fall festival with Poe, who doesn't really get the point of a ferris wheel. Oh and your ex is there.
Content/Notes: fluff, tw food, language
Word Count: 3.2k
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"That everything?" Poe asked, securing the final basket in the back of your truck. Heaps of fresh organic produce, homemade jellies, herbs and eggs from your chickens were loaded and ready for your little farm's booth at the fair.
The warmish weather had finally eased into a crisp, cool morning, invigorating your fall spirit and giving you a boost of energy needed to peddle your wares.
Poe, dressed in his boots, jeans and a flannel button up of your dads - a dark green and navy plaid over a white t-shirt - gazed at you expectantly, hands on his hips.
"I think so," you answered, granting him a bright smile. "Thank you so much for doing this. It would have been a lot with Chester away in New Jersey. I've never done it by myself." Your thoughts briefly drifted to your father. This was only your second year without him at the festival.
"Glad I can help," he grinned, pushing a hand through his curls.
Since you'd bought him hair products and toiletries, he'd attempted new styles with gel and hairspray, usually preferring his hair off his face. Today it seemed he didn't bother, remarking how his hair had grown longer than ever, and beyond his control.
You offered to cut it for him soon, after the festival was behind you.
Right then, your cat Cheddar darted out of the barn, with Marigold and Kit Kat hot on his trail. Your three barn cats had added themselves to the long list of animals who instantly loved Poe. Cheddar had almost convinced the both of you that he was truly a house cat who needed to sleep in Poe's room at night, rather than out in the barn with his siblings. Almost.
Curling around Poe's legs adoringly, Cheddar meowed, waiting for attention, which Poe was more than willing to give.
"Heyyyy, little buddy, came to say goodbye? Don't worry, I'll be back."
Kneeling down, he granted some attention to Marigold, while Kit Kat hissed in jealous protest.
"All right, you guys, go back to catching things. We have to go." You playfully rubbed each of their heads before gently shooing them away.
It was then that you noticed Poe eyeing you with about as much fondness as Cheddar had displayed. It caught you off guard for a moment, until he held up the truck's key and dangled it in front of you.
"Can I drive?"
"Give me those," you laughed, yanking them out of his hand and bumping shoulders with him as you headed for the driver's side.
"Come onnn, please," he whined, following you closely.
You reached for the truck's door, but he pushed his arm up against it to stop you, trapping you there against the side of the truck, with his arm caging you in. Noticing how close your bodies were, he lowered his arm slowly, licking his lips as your eyes locked with his.
"Sorry." He backed away to give you some space, noticing how your breath stuttered and your eyelashes fluttered. "I'm the best pilot in our fleet, I swear. I can definitely handle a truck."
"Wow," you whistled, pulling open the truck door finally, but Poe noticed you still had a playful glint in your eye. "You actually insulted my truck while bragging. Well done. Passenger's seat for you."
He groaned, but complied, leaving it alone while you cranked the truck and backed it away from the house. Stopping at the end of your long driveway, you peered over at him.
"I know you can drive my truck. It took you like half a day to get what usually takes us regular people a few months to learn. It's just that you don't have a license and we cannot have any questions asked about who you are and where you're from. You understand, right?"
Poe swallowed, nodding, noting how serious you were. "Sorry. I just thought it would be fun. I didn't realize..."
"It's okay," you smiled warmly. "I just...I get nervous thinking about if someone found out. I mean, Poe, to think of what could happen to you..."
"Is it really that dangerous here? In the United States?" He asked, as you eased onto the main road and started driving.
"It could be. It really could. We are in a kind of war right now. A cold war. No one's firing, but it's tense. And if they find out you're from space, they'll never let you go. We have to keep it a secret no matter what. Let's go over our cover story again."
So you spent the drive into town reviewing the story you'd concocted. Poe had come to work on your farm temporarily, as a replacement for Chester, who was with his ill mom in New Jersey. Simple enough. For now, the story would be that Chester gave a friend of a friend-type recommendation. You would loop Chester in on the plan ASAP, when he wasn't preoccupied with helping his mom.
Poe would be called Joe, which sounded a little more run-of-the-mill Earthy, and would be from Florida. The next step was to somehow get him some convincing documents without drawing attention from the wrong people.
This story should be easy enough to maintain. If someone were to question you about Poe's past, you could simply claim to not know, since you truly met him so recently.
Something heavy settled in your stomach as you drove toward the first public outing with this man who fell to earth.
"Look, I'm sorry about the driving thing," he offered, once you'd double checked your story together. "I know we have to be careful. I promise I won't get you in any trouble."
Glancing over at him, you realized this must all be frightening to him, or at least alarming. "It's okay. You must be bored out of your mind on the farm." Pulling into a parking space in the grassy field outside the fair's entrance, you turned to face him. "You don't have to stay in the booth with me all day. You should ride some rides. They're fast. Probably not as fast as an X-wing, but...could be fun."
"Okay. Only if you ride with me."
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To absolutely no one's surprise, Poe was a perfect addition to your booth. Chester was a great help when he was around, but he was more of a behind the scenes worker.
Poe was a people person, charming customers, introducing himself as Joe, as instructed, and making them feel at ease. With the way he was able to add a dozen farm fresh eggs or a jar of your jelly to each order, you were certain he could probably persuade anyone to do anything.
"You know, maybe I should go ride rides, since you've almost sold all the eggs before lunch," you teased during the briefest lull in customers.
Dark eyes went wide until he realized you were messing with him. "Oh...I thought I was doing it wrong for a second."
"No, please. The sooner we sell out, the sooner we can pack up and the less we have to carry home. Be my guest," you grinned, folding your arms over your chest. "Exactly how many dangerous situations have you charmed your way out of?"
Poe laughed, pushing his fingers through his curls again. "Way too many, Trix. You have no idea."
"Oh shit," you whispered, ducking behind the corner of your booth, frantically waving Poe over to join you.
"What's wrong?" He whispered, conspiratorially huddling with you. "Is it someone from the government?"
Shit, you probably scared him. "No. Sorry, no, it's just my ex."
He gazed into your eyes. "Your ex...boyfriend? Girlfriend?"
"Ex asshole," you failed to clarify, groaning as you realized it was too late. You'd been spotted.
"Heyyyy, it's my favorite organic farmer," your ex boomed, embarrassingly loudly, as he was often prone to do. At one time, you had adored his exuberance and bold personality.
"Hey there," Poe interjected, "what can I help you find today? We have homemade jelly."
Your ex made a sour face at you and hitched his thumb at your new, shorter friend. "Who's this guy?"
"Joe," Poe responded, thrusting his hand between you and your ex for a handshake. "Just started at the farm a few weeks ago, while Chester's away. So what can we get you?"
Ignoring Poe, your ex stared at you, waiting for your attention. Fighting a smile, you returned his rudeness and instead turned to Poe. "I think you've got this covered, so I'm gonna unbox a few more things."
"Take your time. We're good here." Poe sent you off with a wink.
Your heart raced as you darted around the side of your tent, so thankful for the embarrassing situation that didn't just happen. It wasn't that you couldn't take care of yourself, or handle your ex. Hell, you were the one who dumped him. You simply weren't in the mood for his loud mouth and embarrassing antics, especially if he tried to give Poe the third degree for simply existing in the same space as you.
Wondering, for a second, if you felt managed by Poe, or dismissed, you sighed in relief, realizing that his reaction was spot on, and just what you needed. He minimized someone who loved to make everything about himself. He kept the focus on your booth and your products, allowing you to get to tasks that needed your attention.
To be seen and understood so effortlessly felt really good.
Another hour passed before the two of you took a break for lunch, closing your booth for about twenty minutes to sit near the back and munch on some ridiculously fried fair food you insisted Poe try.
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By mid afternoon, you'd sold out of everything except a few greens, but Poe was determined, continuing to sell while you started packing up.
As the sun set, your booth was empty and cleared, leaving the two of you free to enjoy the festivities.
"Thank you so much for today," you sweetly said, bumping shoulders as you walked along rows of various carnival style games. "This is the most successful year I've ever had."
"Happy to help," He smiled over at you, "with getting rid of produce...or ex-boyfriends."
"Oh my god, I'm sorry about that," you chuckled. "I appreciate it though. I was not in the mood to talk to him, believe me."
Poe focused his eyes ahead, enjoying the music drifting through the air, the smell of what you called popcorn and brightly colored balloons. "I thought it would be good practice for getting rid of unwanted attention," he shrugged. Waiting a bit, he added, "He didn't hurt you, did he?"
You let out a long sigh, prompting Poe to say, "sorry."
"No, it's okay," you assured him. "We had some good times. He helped out, you know...when my father got sick. But I found out he was going to propose. And then I found out why he wanted to propose."
Poe groaned, "Don't say he wanted your farm."
"Bingo," you remarked, snapping your fingers and pointing at him. "I mean, really, is this 1881 or 1981? He was after my land?"
"I guess there are worse reasons to marry. But I see your point," Poe conceded. "Was he good to you?" He flinched. "Is that okay to ask?"
"He was until he wasn't," you confessed. "Kind of ruined the whole, benevolent 'help my father' thing when I caught him with another woman."
Poe whistled. "Okay, now I have to kick his ass."
That made you laugh. "He's not worth it. Come on, let's ride the ferris wheel."
Less that ten minutes later, you and Poe sat side-by-side in the bucket seat...of the world's slowest ride, apparently.
"What does this thing do?" he questioned. "It's really slow. And goes in a circle. Is that fun in Iowa?"
You burst out laughing, swatting him on the arm. "It's peaceful and kind of magical because it goes up high and you can see the town." You explained this as your gondola climbed to the ferris wheel's highest point.
Poe nodded, taking a moment to enjoy the highest vantage point he'd seen in weeks, since his ship crashed here. Normally, he was used to being up in the air on a daily basis, so this was nothing too special. Until he glanced over and noticed your eyes shining as you gazed out across the festival and surrounding, rural fields.
Peering over the edge, you remarked how high up you were, bouncing with excitement before looking back at Poe, eyes bright and filled with wonder.
"You're right about the view," he said softly, eyes never leaving your face as the ferris wheel slowly brought you back down to earth.
Next you dragged him to a mini roller coaster, promising it would go at least somewhat faster. Hands gripping the safety rails, you squealed in delight as Poe grinned, enjoying the ride almost as much as he loved riding full speed on your horse Annabelle a week ago.
"I'll take you flying someday. Somehow," he promised. You appreciated the gesture, but your heart burned at the faraway look in his eyes. It sobered you to remember, again, that he needed to find a way to get out of here eventually.
"I'll probably embarrass myself and scream or get sick, but I would love to see you in action."
As soon as the words left your mouth, your face heated up. And he noticed.
Leaning closer his eyes dropped to your lips before he smiled knowingly, nodding behind you. "You want to see me in action, let's go."
Brushing past you, he left you a bit speechless until you realized he intended to play a shooting game. With perfect precision, he used rubber darts and a plastic gun to take aim at, and perfectly eliminate yellow duckies in a row, earning some oohs and ahhs from interested onlookers, and the game's attendant.
"Best shootin' I've seen all day, son. Pick a prize from the top row there." The older gentleman pointed up to the row of ridiculously oversized stuffed animals.
Poe grinned at you. "Which one?"
"You won it," you giggled. "You pick."
He chose a gigantic plush lizard.
"For you." He presented it with a dramatic flare.
"Wowww, this is...this is really something. Thank you." You laughed in spite of the weird but oddly cute offering.
"Well you have lots of animals at home, so I thought you might like something different," he explained as you headed for the cotton candy tent. "Besides, all the animals here are really...hairy." He squeezed the giant lizard. "This guy looks more like my galaxy."
"I love it then," you decided. "What should we call him?"
"Toe Dameron," he teased, a twinkle in his brown eyes. "That way, you'll think of me when you hug him."
For the first time in a while, you enjoyed a good belly laugh. "I don't need a giant lizard named Toe to think about you, but okay."
Poe carried Toe Dameron around while you bought some cotton candy, which intrigued him immensely. He gobbled it up quickly, which let both of you know he was actually hungry. So next up was the pizza stand, of which Poe was definitely a fan, polishing off three slices while you sat at a small table with Toe Dameron on the ground beside you.
"A picture for the lovely couple?" A photographer asked, appearing beside your table, with his camera at the ready.
"Uhh, not a couple, and no, actually, it's okay." You waved him off. Digging into your pocket, you gave him a small tip. "Thanks anyway."
"What was that?" Poe asked through a mouthful of pizza.
"Nothing, he just wanted to take our picture - like the ones in my hall, you know? A photograph?"
Poe nodded, polishing off his meal.
"But, even though I would love to have a picture with you, I just think it could be dangerous. Better to keep a low profile."
"Right, good thinking." Glancing around, the idea that he was an unwelcome guest on planet Earth seemed to sober him. "You're sure it's safe to be here?"
"Yes, it's fine," you assured him.
Hoping to cheer him up, you took him to a very spinny, very fast ride that he loved. But as soon as it ended, you both realized what a terrible idea it was to ride the spinning ride after eating a ton of pizza.
"Ready to go?"
Poe was gazing past you again, as he'd been doing all day, his interest piqued by every different or similar thing to his home galaxy.
This time, his ears perked up at the sound of live music and his eyes gazed at couples dancing on a makeshift dance floor.
"Come on," he urged, taking you by the hand. "Dance with me."
"Oh...okay," you smiled at his exuberance. Poe was so full of life, so interested in every little thing.
Swallowing down any trepidation you felt about making a fool of yourself on the dance floor, you eased into an embrace with him, swaying to a medium tempo song, getting used to the feel of one another.
The song cadenced and the beat kicked off a lively tune, which delighted Poe. He took the lead, guiding you through steps that were probably not of this world, but seemed to make sense. He certainly had a good sense of rhythm and was no stranger to dancing.
You slightly stumbled once, but he steadied you with his palm spread across your back. "Just follow me, I've got you." He smiled brilliantly, giving you a twirl and guiding you around to his opposite side, before somehow doing the same thing in reverse. You weren't sure how he managed it, but it was fun and you found yourself laughing and relaxing all the way through the end of the song.
The music slowed into a couples' dance, so you stepped back to give Poe an out, but he held out his hand. "One more?"
You smiled sweetly at him in spite of yourself, taking his hand as he pulled you close, somehow still keeping time even with the slow tempo.
"Is this okay?" He breathed against your cheek, arm cinching you closer even as he asked permission.
"Yeah...it's okay. You're a good dancer," you breathlessly whispered on his ear. "Which isn't surprising. You're good at everything."
"Thank you," he granted you a sincere reply, which you appreciated. "We danced a lot growing up. Not exactly like this but...anyway."
Easing back, you gazed at him questioningly. "What is it?"
He gently smiled, eyes fixing on yours. "Nothing. I just...I haven't had a day like this in years. A day off, to have fun and dance and eat and laugh." He sighed, peering up at the night sky. "I think this is one of the best days I've ever had."
"Really?" You gasped, surprised and touched, honestly.
"Yeah," he nodded, eyes finding yours again. "Really. I think maybe Iowa is a special place."
That made you laugh.
"Or maybe it's because you're here." His arms wrapped all the way around you now, palm pressing along the curve of your back.
You reached up to push a stray curl out of his eyes. "Bet you say that on every planet you land on."
"Maybe, maybe not. But there's definitely only one Trix."
next
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thanks to @silvernight-m for the names-that-rhyme-with-Poe exchange and @reallyrallyauthor for pointing out that many animals in Star Wars world are reptilian
☾ ⋆*･:⋆*･☾ ⋆*･:⋆*･☾ ⋆*:⋆*･
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Cosmic Masterlist | Poe Dameron Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Join my tag list
watched the Backrooms movie yesterday! I thought it was great!!! Kane Parsons absolutely had a vision and executed it perfectly, in my opinion! :')
the audience actually applauded when it was over, lol, never experienced that before, dshkfjsgdk (it was a preview. yes, my country is like a month late to the party)
more detailed spoiler review about what I liked under the cut!
I like how the movie started because it immediately set the tone for when our protagonists eventually enter the backrooms because the audience already knows that there's a threat. this is especially good for those who haven't watched Kane's videos on YouTube before the movie/don't know anything about the backrooms!
loooved the balancing of Clark and Mary as our protagonists! I loved when it switched from Clark to Mary and back, how we got to explore their characters, how they interact, and how that eventually leads to what happens in the end! I thought it was very well done!
on that note, I really loved how we start with two protagonists, and almost seamlessly move to having one protagonist and one antagonist!
I like how we get to know Clark through his therapy session; especially the roleplay! I particularly love how that roleplay shows up in the end again, and how Clark turns it against Mary, because that's absolutely something he would do!
I actually really like that Clark later admits that he doesn't even want to change! because it makes sense for him, since he's been so resistant to the actual therapy part of his, well, therapy.
oh, and I love that Clark is constantly shown to just walk over everyone for his own gain. Bobby has a camera, so he needs him to prove that this place exists, and of course Kat has to come with, no matter what she says. and oh, yeah, Bobby has to be the one to go down because he's the one with the camera! no, I (Clark) won't be telling you about this giant threat in this place, we'll just hope it won't get to us before we are out again (of course it gets them!)
and how that later translates into his overall behaviour when he stayed in the backrooms
love the glimpses of Mary's past and present life we got! I love how her past explains her career path and her philosophy/motivation, and how it's this continuous red string for her character, and especially her strength in the end!
also, I like how Mary's escape from Pirate Clark was very much like the end of The Oldest View, only that she actually got away and didn't plummet to her death, dshkfjhsdk
LOVE the open/ambiguous ending that isn't even all that ambiguous, like, yeah, Mary knows she's not going to be let go by this company, while Phil further pretends that they all have the same goals here. like, no, you get to go home, buddy -- she most definitely won't.
and I LOOOVE the visuals!!! great direction, great cinematography, just!!! wow!!! <3 truly, a beautiful movie in that sense!
I will always be impressed with Kane Parsons' ability to create tension and suspense with his work! all of his videos, and now this movie, have worked really well for me to keep me alert and my heart pounding because I expect something to happen soon! while it never gets me when it does eventually happen, I love that I can at least feel the tension beforehand! so many horror movies don't achieve that for me anymore, so, I love that he constantly manages to!
on an objective level, I think the still life's are a great concept! I like how clear it is that they're an attempt at remembering, but doing it wrong, how the backrooms are just... that (possibly), and how that plays into a primal fear humans have when confronted with it because it's all familiar, but also just completely wrong.
(personally, it just doesn't work for me, as in, doesn't scare me or make me uncomfortable, but that's just my personal thing! my sister, on the other hand, was extremely uncomfortable and cowering in fear, so!)
overall, I just really loved this movie! I think it worked super well! I like how whenever something "happened", we also got longer sequences of calmness afterwards, and that it never overstayed its welcome with anything, which is certainly not easy to achieve!
