#kenny is going to get his very own dump after this

[peachy-takahiro]

dump of stuff from my sketchbook,,, I'm bad at taking pictures lol

[watermelondip]

seasons | summer pt. one

pairing: stiles stilinski / female reader word count: 11k tags: friends to lovers, jealousy, miscommunication, little bit of angst, mostly fluff, pre-season 3/post-season 2 warnings: underage drinking, brief/vague mentions of sexual content (will become more graphic later on) a/n: this story is going to be three parts, and this is part one of part one basically, bc i just wanted to post it. i'm gonna cross-post onto ao3 but i don't wanna do that until the whole chapter is finished, which it nearly is. at that point i'll post the second part of part one. been working on this since the beginning of the year! don't know why it's taken me this long!

At the end of sophomore year, your boyfriend dumped you, you threw your finals, and Stiles decided to grow out his hair. Of those three things, the hair was the only one you were willing to talk about, so the first week or so of summer was emotionally muddled, mostly consisting of days in bed and text conversations about dorky movies or hypothetical plans that were bound to fall through. Plus, Allison jetted off to France, and Lydia was generally MIA per mysterious Lydia reasons; you were looking out at three months of Stiles and Stiles alone, which was intensely overwhelming.

Foremostly, Stiles had been a good, unwavering, PB&J (a.k.a. everything you’d expect, want, etc) sort of friend since Elementary school, but he had never taken such a central role in your life before. Since, of course, your boyfriend, tall-blond-asshole-Pearl-Jam-listening Kenny, had always been the leading man. But Kenny was bored with mediocrity, and according to you, and maybe also Jessica from lit who loved to talk shit, he just wanted to whore around until college, which was fast approaching, the senior that he was. 

So, when you sobbed, tried to stop sobbing, nearly vomited, and then decided to call Stiles, screeching he’s such a jerk, I hate him, god, he’s such a jerk, you know into the phone, it was almost cathartic. But when he rambled back at you over the line, something about you being better than tall-blond-asshole-Pearl-Jam-listening Kenny and needing to stop letting him get under your skin, something sweet like that, an urge that had been buried on the playground emerged with full force, albeit a little morphed for the modern day. 

Too desperately for your own good, you wanted to fuck Stiles. In fact, you wanted to make love to Stiles, like in an 80s movie, something smooth playing in the background, basking in candlelight, or maybe after prom, makeup fallen under your eyes and dress half laced up in the back. The specifics weren’t entirely important. Most vitally, you asked yourself if you understood love at all, and if what you had felt for Kenny was genuine love, or if that had been reserved all those years for your sudden realization. You thought, most assuredly, that you very well could be in love with Stiles, for all that was worth.

It had been apparent for years that it was more than a friendship. Kenny would hardly ever shut up about it, but you were good at brushing things off. Stiles is Stiles, you’d say, a shrug or a slump accompanying your deliberate nonchalance. I could never date Stiles, you’d affirm, but you’d be at a loss if asked to explain why (except, maybe, to say that Stiles would never date you, but admitting something like that to yourself was unpleasant, so you shied away from it).

Cataloging memories and coming up with the logistics in your mind, it was important to consider that Stiles was perpetually obsessed with Lydia to the point of derangement, so it seemed unlikely that he would abandon all of that for a girl that was functionally opposite. You were, of course, a girl with hair and eyes and cute enough clothes, but you were also overtly normal and lacked the minx-ish qualities that seemed to be so attractive to him. You were friends with Lydia and you understood her most of the time, occasionally sharing in her girly-isms on Saturday nights, but there was something fundamental in your DNA that prevented you from ever being her carbon copy. You thought, how could he want to fuck you if you didn’t smell so strongly of vanilla and cashmere, and when he touched you your essence didn’t transfer onto his skin in a gold, sparkling sheen?

Sometimes, though, when it was late and you were sitting on the couch in your basement, the only thing separating you being an empty popcorn bowl, and he turned to you and made a joke about whatever was on the TV, but he was smiling so wide and you just couldn’t stop staring, it didn’t matter if you weren’t Lydia. You knew it would never be like that with her, and you let yourself be mean spirited about it, too, because you were so jealous sometimes that it consumed you. You wanted to pull him over by the sleeve and throw the empty bowl on the floor and tell him how cute he was, how potently him he seemed.

It was a hellish summer.

You got a job at this isolated little coffee shop at the edge of town, rustic fixtures and squeaky tap and all, but it paid decent enough. There was this cute senior named Josh that would always be working there when you were on your shifts, spouting, I’ll miss you when I graduate, Ace, and running his fingers through his overgrown hair. He was tan and he played sports and you probably should’ve dated him, if only for a few months, just to wean yourself off Kenny and prevent yourself from salivating over Stiles, but you could never bring yourself to fully reciprocate his banter.

“Guy’s a douche,” Stiles murmured, playing with the sleeve on his coffee cup, leaning overtly over the countertop. “He was on lacrosse last year, which he sucked at, by the way, and he kept calling me scrawny, a total projection, obviously, since he’s got major chicken legs and that super long, like, Slenderman neck that he always juts out like a creep–” Stiles mimed the action, “–you know? And, besides, if you’re gonna rebound, you should do it with somebody cool like a famous person or a teacher or something.”

“Stiles.” You fussed with the faulty register, shooting him a warning look. “Sit,” you chirped, nodding towards the tables behind him.

“Just kidding, about the teacher thing, definitely don’t do that. Actually, I heard that Mr. Sanders isn’t gonna be there next year because he got caught hitting on Lauren Johnson, which is kind of crazy considering his wife just got pregnant, pretty sure, and–”

“They’re gonna fire me if you keep talking my ear off, you know.” He grinned, tightening his grip on his coffee.

“Yeah, well, that’s sort of my goal.” He leaned closer, tilting his head with a hesitancy that made you frown. “You spend all day here. It’s boring.”

“You could always get your own job.”

“Har har, good one. Me, working, very funny–

“–Stiles–” 

“–No, a zinger, really.” It was too early for him to be so bright, and you squinted at his shine.

“Customer, due east,” you declared, shooing him away with your hand. Someone burly and un-caffeinated stumbled through the door. “Stiles, sit down,” you urged, pushing at his hands, splayed lazily over the counter. You narrowed at him and he relented, slouching over to a seat by the window. Even in defiance, he pulled out a book and stayed for an hour. 

It was a half-an-hour drive to the beach, which felt like hours in the Jeep since the seats were always sticky and the air conditioning was temporarily busted. You had done yourself up in the most severe way, with a tiny bikini and a face of makeup that would inevitably be washed away by the water and the heat. You kept running your hands over your thighs, trying to decide if the skin there was smooth enough, scratching nervous lines up and down. Rilo Kiley was on the radio and the sun was reaching you through the window; the backseat was oppressive.

“Water?” Scott asked, dangling his arm over from the passenger’s seat. His water bottle had rolled under the seat, and you contorted yourself in an attempt to grab it. It was old, scuffed on the cap, half-filled and a nauseating shade of green that looked worse with age. Stiles took a turn and you huffed as the bottle skirted out of your grip. “Are you digging for gold back there or something?”

“Just gimme a second,” you snapped, clawing at the bottle until it relented into your palm.

“She’s testy because Kenny has a new girlfriend,” Stiles remarked, slapping Scott’s expecting arm. You handed him the water bottle.

“He has a new girlfriend?” You pushed your hair from your face, feeling the slick sheen of your back resettle against the seat. You crossed your legs, quelling the oncoming tremor.

“They’re not really dating, are they?” Scott questioned before chugging his water like an Olympian, throat pulsating, expanding like a beast. There was something animalistic that lined his every action post-bite, and you found it occasionally off putting, like he was some strange dog on the side of the road, swaying towards you with an open, heaving mouth. He swallowed, gasping for a moment. “You’re talking about Tana, right?”

“Uh, no, no, I meant Bree.” Stiles glanced at you in the rearview, frowning. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” You pulled at the hem of your shorts, wondering if Kenny took Tana or Bree to the same diner he always took you to, or if he told them to close their eyes and kissed them soft and quick like he used to do with you. Begrudgingly, you let in the reality that your relationship with him would never be the snowglobe you made it out to be, and that he had processed things fully while you were still mourning.

“Tana’s a total slut,” Stiles tentatively reasoned. Scott elbowed him to no avail. “And Bree too, so,” he trailed off, throwing you a look over his shoulder, something slathered with sympathy. “We’ll find you a beach hunk, don’t worry.” He patted your knee, his burning fingertips and good intentions infecting you all throughout.

Cute-senior-coffee-boy Josh was playing volleyball a few feet away, and from your position on your front, head turned to the side, maybe just to stare, you felt undeniably voyeuristic. In a sense, with sweat dripping down his chest and hair flopping into his face, he was coital. Beach hunk, you thought, daydreaming.

“Stop drooling,” Stiles puffed, pulling off his t-shirt. You furrowed.

“Where’s Scott?” You sat up on your elbows, glancing to the empty chair beside him.

“He hasn’t scored a single point this whole game, and you’re still ogling him, which is sort of pathetic on your part.” Stiles’ hair stuck out unceremoniously from his scalp, morning-esque, and he tossed the shirt into the sand. The sun hit him in a nasty way, and he dug through the communal bag for a pair of sunglasses. “Of course fucking Josh is here today, fucking douche.” He began to murmur, and you sighed, flopping back down onto your arms, chin poking harshly into your flesh.

Stiles pushed on a pair of large, boxy sunglasses that you recalled pulling out from your vanity that morning.

“Those are mine.” You suppressed a laugh, shoving your nose into your forearm.

“I kinda pull them off though, right?” His anger subsided for a moment, and he easily diffused the conflict with a grin. He hated to dwell, you knew. Things were never very gritty for him. He turned his head to either side, shrugging. His nose was a little sunburnt, and you pictured what he might do if you lathered it in aloe and kissed him hard right after, saying, god, will you stop picking at it?

“You’re the one who brought up the beach hunk.” You returned to the side-facing position that gave you a good view of Josh’s serve. Your feet kicked up behind you. “You think he’d go for me?”

Stiles was quiet for a moment. Josh grunted whenever he hit the ball. His swim shorts were low on his hips. You were so inexplicably piggish with your gaze that what you had assumed was a post-breakup horny brain seemed to really just be the birth of a nympho, you thought. There was something mad about you. 

He cleared his throat: “Course he’d go for you. Doesn’t mean you should throw yourself at him.” You turned to look up at him, squinting, incredulous.

“What’s your problem?” He slumped into his beach chair, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it, only managing to make it messy in a different format, charming all the same. You liked the taut folds of his stomach, the moles on his chest, on his arms, his shoulders, the ones that were reaching for his face through his neck. You found it difficult to be frustrated with him when he was half naked and sweltering. 

“Guy’s a douche. That’s all.” You could hardly see his eyes through the dark lenses. “At least be tactful.”

“Tactful?” 

“Subtle. At least be subtle.”

You pondered on subtlety as Stiles looked off at the water. He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest, baking a bit. You thought to ask, can I get your back, squinting up at him and maybe pushing your boobs together a little, but then you reprimanded yourself and remembered that you shouldn’t be a perv. When you were eleven you’d asked him if he’d ever kiss you and all he could get out was nowaynowayuhgrossno, choking on his Cheerios. It seemed futile.

A few minutes later, Scott returned with a mint-chocolate-chip, which he handed to you, and a rocky road, which he had already taken a decent chunk out of for himself. Stiles seemed offended, mouth ajar.

“I don’t like what you said about Tana and Bree in the car,” explained, crashing into his chair. “Also it was really expensive and I still owe her twenty bucks.”

“Don’t worry about that,” you assured him, vaguely waving as if to say I’m cool, and licked off a drippy bit. “This works. Ice cream is, like, how much it costs times two and then some.”

“Why don’t you have a chair?” Scott asked, tossing his leg over his knee. “You look like you hate us,” he laughed. Stiles looked over at you, and even though you still couldn't see his eyes great, you imagined that they were raking down your back, subtly like he’d said, and got sort of hot in the neck.

“I’m basking,” you explained, wiping some mint-chocolate-chip from the corner of your mouth.

“She’s trying to be sexy for Josh,” Stiles chimed in, gruff. “Which you don’t need to do because he already likes you, by the way.”

“You don’t know that,” you argued, flattered. It showed; you meant to say that you knew he liked you, but that wasn’t the point, and that you really just wanted to be dramatic, since everything had felt so grey since Kenny had ended and all. 

“He likes you,” he retorted firmly. 

“Ask him out,” Scott suggested. You hated that he was an ice cream biter, and the sight made you shrivel up a little. He had his mouth full. “He’ll probably say yes,” he decided, examining you.

“Aw gee,” you teased. He hardly ever said stuff like that to you. Mostly, if he did anything at all, he’d flick your head and say you make me laugh at lunch or maybe in the hallway, if he had the time. You liked that he was so casual. Stiles gave him a look like they had some big secret, like you were just a little kid sitting on the edge of the bench, getting words spelled out to you like you were dumb and wouldn’t know the meaning.

It was out of place, but you started to think about sex. Building up the courage to talk to Josh, with Scott and Stiles arguing about something inconsequential, maybe lacrosse or maybe Allison, in the background, it became incredibly important to you. Not just sex in terms of the act, but sex like the aura, like the way you might walk towards him, hips swaying, and the way you might bear your neck to him as if it were some sort of animalistic ritual. You had never gone that far with Kenny, and you asked yourself if you could fake that sort of thing or not. Josh was older and you were sure he’d slept with plenty of girls, which was scary and you were psyching yourself out too much.

“Give me those,” you demanded, wiggling your finger at the sunglasses Stiles had adopted.

“What? No, I like them. Why?” Half of you wanted to let him wear the silly girl sunglasses because they were yours and that must’ve meant something.

“You told me to be subtle and I have expressive eyes.” You stretched out your hand, urging. Stiles paused, almost like he had been talking in hypotheticals and he’d never thought you’d do it, not with Josh who you were sure had slept with lots of girls and was a douche, that’s all. 

“You’re really going to talk to him?” He was quieter, more reserved, like you’d juiced him dry and now he was just reeling. Scott smiled, but maybe just because Stiles was being stubborn and he looked dumb in your sunglasses. 

“I do it almost every day, Stiles.” You jutted your hand forward impatiently. 

“That’s work. Work is different. This is voluntary and you’re in underwear.”

“Give me the sunglasses,” you demanded, tucking your hair behind your ear on the left, giving him a look that usually garnered affection, eyes big. He was a sore loser, but he handed them to you anyway, and he sucked it up okay, digging his heels into the sand.

Josh smelled like something from the mall, something like lake water and rough pine, and he had a sweaty beach face, tan and dark in the eyes and a little bit of condensation on his upper lip. You looked at him through your sunglasses, confident in the way they concealed you, and he said, “you look hot”, laughing and grinning and being overall very effective.

When you licked your ice cream, you wondered if he found it all sensual or if you were just embarrassing yourself. He was so easygoing that you couldn’t really tell.

He ran his fingers through his hair like he always did, with it falling on either side all piece-y and smooth. You thought about how much Lydia would like him. She always told you to go for more typical sorts of guys. She never wanted to hear about Stiles, who was non-typical and didn’t smell like mall scents and never wore the right thing. She said, “he’s too much of a cartoon, with his clothes and his blah, you know”, but his clothes had changed since last year. He was more typical than he’d ever been before.

“We’re all going over to Miller’s place after this,” Josh said, picking over your appearance, lingering a bit on your collarbone. “You can come. So can Stilinski and McCall and whoever else.”

“It’s a party?”

“It’s a thing. I guess it’s a party. Anyway, I want you there.” That made you extra sweaty. You wondered if he’d pull you into an empty room and try to put his hands in your pants like you’d always feared, even if it was that kind of fear that teetered on the edge, dipping into something different, more like curiosity. It didn’t matter much because Peter Miller had the third biggest house of anyone you could think of off the top of your head, and he had a pool too, and a giant basement with a bar, which was always stocked because his parents didn’t mind for him and his friends to drink. 

Josh ran his hand along your hairline, clearing your eyes, and said, “crazy wind today”, boyishly aware, so you just knew you’d go to the party.

Stiles took you home so you could change. He said, “I’ll be back in a little”, and he left with Scott and the Jeep and some of your sanity, too. It was intensely hot outside and you knew that finding a balance between comfort and sexuality was important. Still, your trademark was your lack of formality. Lydia always said it was charming that you picked shorts when she might have picked a skirt, and you didn’t do up your hair like she did, and that when you wore makeup it was just different, like it didn’t make as much sense for you. This was all a construction, everything just as innately tailored as it was with her, but in a different strata. 

You wondered if Josh liked boobs or butt or neither or both or maybe a subtle, uneven mix, like sixty-forty or something. If you asked Stiles you knew he’d say eyes, and when you’d say no really, he’d say you’re right, it’s boobs, and then he’d grin for days.

Your shorts were the girly kind, with big buttons and a chunky foldover hem, paired with something thin and airy that Allison had said was so cute, something she’d buy for herself if the color didn’t wash her out. You thought you might shower, but then you thought of Stiles, how he could be back anytime, and how he’d be mad if you held him up. He already didn’t want to go.

“Josh, like Josh Dubie? Like the one who sucked at lacrosse?” your sister asked. You had three. Three sisters and two brothers and an uncle in the basement and two parents who didn’t talk very much, probably because one of them was a little too close with their siblings. 

“Stiles is worse,” you said, wiping off your lipstick. Lucy, aged fourteen, had barged in to borrow a sweatshirt that she couldn’t seem to locate. She had a bonfire later. You knew she was going to drink but you were too muddled to complain to her about it.

“Yeah, but it’s funny with Stiles. Josh should be good at lacrosse, so it’s just kinda sad.” You shot her a look. “That color is too much,” she said, furrowing at the red all faded on your lips.

Scott had decided to stay home. Even though his werewolf-ness had given him strong arms and an underlying sense of urgency, he still carried remnants of the wallflower you’d grown up with. Stiles would’ve stayed home too, had it not been for you and Josh and you and your terrible driving skills and you. He was wearing his nice plain blue t-shirt, not his nasty old one, which you found only slightly endearing.

“You need to clean in here,” you grimaced, kicking around an old bag of Doritos by your feet.

He pressed his lips together all taut-like, frowning, something forming in his throat that made him contract, retreat, reorganize.

“Do you think we’re gonna know anyone?” he asked, glancing at the footwell.

“Definitely not. Well, not unless you’re familiar with my good friend, the Twisted Tea.”

“Or the lacrosse assholes,” he added, hinting at a depression that made you feel obtuse. It would’ve been a fine night to re-watch Tremors and have an expired popsicle. He tried to smile but you watched the way it fell, his mouth twitching at the sides. You wondered what he’d do if you were alone with Josh and he was stuck downstairs or on the patio or something, and he called you but your phone was in your purse and your purse was on the floor. You wondered if he’d leave you there.

“We don’t have to go,” you offered, shifting uneasily. “I mean, we can do something else. We can go see Bad Teacher. It has Jason Segel; you like him, right?”

“No, no, we’re going.” He bit his lip, and you realized you were staring. “Sure, I’m dreading it, but hey, it might be fun, and maybe Josh isn’t as bad as I think.” He gesticulated haphazardly. 

“Really?” You tucked your hands under your thighs, looking down at your feet. The Converse probably weren’t the right choice. You and Stiles matched. His eyes flickered over to you for a moment, and he smiled softly.

“Well, for starters, he likes you. That’s already, like, five points at least.”

“You don’t know that he–”

“–he likes you, and he’s generally hygienic, which has gotta be another two. Then there’s his prowess in all non-lacrosse sports, although after today I might add beach volleyball to the list of things he’s not very good at. Oh, and cold brews.” You puffed out a scoff-laugh. “Minus a bajillion points for not being very nice to Stiles, though.”

“I can scold him later if you want.” It never made much sense to you why people were nasty to Stiles, since he was cute and sweet and even if he was being a little annoying, it was always easier to laugh at him than kick him down. But then Lydia would say you’re too nice, it’s not good for you and you’d think that maybe you were just fated to feel that way about him, to see him as tolerable, because otherwise no one would be there quietly worshiping his ground. “I could blue ball him or make him confess some deep dark secret and then mass text it to the whole school like they do in movies,” you finished, trying to lighten whatever damper had lined his lilts and movements.

“Just be careful, okay?” he asked, more sincere and rigid than you were used to seeing him. Still, you knew that he thought you were a bit funny, and that he didn’t mind who you tried to date as long as you didn’t stop going to him for rides and helping him with his essays. You wondered if you weren’t careful, if you drank the darkened cup and entered the unknown room, if he would come to save you, and if you would fall in love forever after that.

You took your first shot, first shot ever, or at least since Kenny, which felt like a lifetime ago, and Stiles looked you in the eye and tugged on your arm and he whispered, “Hey, slow down party girl”, but Josh was giving you sex looks from the couch, so all you wanted to do was accelerate. You still felt obtuse, though. Stiles really didn’t know anyone at the party. It’s different for girls because guys don’t have to know girls to like them, but Stiles was just the bad-at-sports kid with one friend and a handful of decent grades. It was one of those things where not even the ugliest girls there, who really weren’t ugly at all, and probably had boyfriends at the end of the day, would even try coming up to him.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you out, you know,” Josh said, leaning against the wall like a real cool guy. He had this sly grin that made you go shivery. Stiles was symbolically hooked to you, symbolically sewed to you by his elbow or his fingertips. He gave Josh a funny look, a look like really? You giggled.

“Ha,” you coughed, sipping, “right.” 

“Stilinski, you drink, don’t you?” 

“I’m driving,” he said tightly. His fingers ghosted over the back of your hand, dangling at your side.

“You know, you guys can totally crash here. Pete’s parties aren’t really much unless you get wasted, and he’s got a million couches in the basement.” This was your surging, everlasting, fear-and-curiosity nightmare. Stiles would drink, and babble, and pass out, and then the hand in your pants, the mouth on your neck. Your legs felt tired and your head pounded a bit. He should’ve been more pushy with Scott, then you might still have a savior. 

“Stiles is responsible,” you murmured, grabbing onto his arm and shaking it a bit. There was always something intoxicating about touching him ever since you hit puberty and became wholly conscious. His eyebrows pinched together as he looked down at you, and you just wanted to cry a little, just to let something out other than another wobble. You knew it was a lie; he was just as much of a boy as the rest of them, and he let things go just as often.

“Yeah, we’re good,” he assured. Your hand fell from his arm and you straightened yourself up.

“No, no,” Josh shook his head, eyeing you with a strange determination. “No, man, let's get you a drink.” 

“Really, it’s okay, I'm driving.” Josh pushed himself off the wall, going to grab Stiles’ shoulder, but he shoved him off. You tried to sink into the houseplant beside you, become one with the dirt and avoid the confrontation you saw slowing bubbling in front of you.

“Like hell!” Peter Miller jogged through the archway. He was bigger than you remembered. He muffed up Stiles’ hair and nudged him where Josh had tried to grab him, and you sort of just wanted to steal the keys and declare celibacy. “Like hell you aren’t drinking, Stilinski,” he reiterated, shoving a cup, something identical to yours, into Stiles’ hand. Stiles looked at you like you’d have some great big answer for him. All you could do was shrug and blame the whole scenario on the poor decisions caused by a false sexual drive.

Thirty minutes later, you ran off to the bathroom to puke. You never drank as much as you had that night. Maybe it was nerves, you thought, but it wasn’t as if you even liked Josh all that much, aside from his solid chest and his charming expressions. Maybe it was Stiles, you thought, who had made you second-hand upset with his uncharacteristic quietness. You hated when things really did get to him, since he never let it linger, never liked to dwell, not usually. 

It felt like five whole minutes that you were hurling. Someone knocked on the door a few times, but you were still frantically pulling your hair back, heaving, as she said, “I have to piss like a fucking racehorse”, clearly to a friend, and you couldn’t half care. 

When you came back downstairs, Stiles was gone. Right away you figured he’d been murdered, but when Josh wrapped his arm around your shoulder and tried to swing you into the kitchen, it became pertinent that you didn’t let assumption overtake you. Josh breathed heavy down your neck like a predator, whispering you look nice as he drank beer from the bottle like your father always did. You sobered, and you knew this wasn’t your fantasy. 

You found Stiles by the pool. His shoes were placed neatly next to him, socks stuffed inside, with his feet dangling in the water, texting. Even with his neck craned over and his shoulders hunched forward, you found him so innately attractive you nearly became stone and fell to your knees at the sight, cracking at every corner. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. He shut off his phone as you sat down next to him, crossing your legs. Even though you had rinsed out your mouth under the tap, you feared the vomit stench, and made sure not to get too close.

“For what?” He rubbed the heels of his palms over his shorts, hesitant to engage with you.

“For making you come. I’m sorry.” He nodded, eyes locked on the water, rippling as he moved his legs back and forth. “How drunk are you?” 

“Tipsy. I mean, I can’t drive, if that’s what you’re asking.” He looked at your lap, the way you fiddled with your hands, picking at the skin around your nails. “You?”

“I puked,” you said, swallowing down a bit of shame about it. Stiles laughed, which made you smile a little too wide, since you were still feeling so warm and loose, but his hair flopped and his eyes were clouded. Your thumb dug into your palm. “Also definitely screwed up the whole Josh thing, but I probably could have managed that sober too.”

“Well, okay then, final verdict: he’s still a douche.”

Even though you very well could have been in love with him before, you were suddenly so sure that it was definite, that you loved him and there was nothing else to call it. It was a summer thought, something that appears when life is uninterrupted by school and fleeting connections. You thanked yourself for puking because you could have kissed him then. It wouldn’t have been much of anything.

You picked at your cuticle so hard it made a noise, and Stiles winced.

“Stop that.” He reached out to pull your hands apart, taking one of them on his own, interlocking your fingers. He squeezed once, pulling your joint hands into the space between the two of you, which you had thought was just for the bile smell but seemed to be of more meaning the longer he looked at you. “You do that when you’re stressed. I hate it.” Even with the lukewarm chill of the night, the back of your neck was burning, and your stomach was spinning like a car tire. 

“You play with your pencils,” you accused, but still frowned at you, “and you bite your nails.”

He furrowed: “No I don’t.”

“You do. And you scratch your knees. You did it a second ago.” His pupils were big and brown, dilated. You weren’t sure how drunk you were anymore, but it all felt very hazy. You thought that he’d probably only held your hand like that a few times ever, which made it all very special and exhilarating, even if you couldn’t show it with your slight slur, speech slowed down just a fraction.

“Yeah, well,” he trailed off. Not very jovial, you understood. His grip around you loosened and, fearing that he might let go, you squeezed as tight as you could, smiling obscenely big even if you didn’t mean it.

“Let’s go find an empty couch and pass out, hm?” you asked, and you shivered a bit at the idea of sleeping so close to him. You figured you were drunk enough to let it happen. He nodded and you pulled him to his feet, your smile unwavering.

“Josh called you his girl at the Panera yesterday,” Scott said. He had ketchup on the corner of his mouth. “And he said you guys did stuff at Peter’s party.”

“No he didn’t,” you retorted, a bit incredulous and a bit embarrassed, maybe, like you didn’t want to be the kind of girl that was Josh’s girl.

“Really, he did. There’s this guy on the team, Toby; he can’t keep his mouth shut about anything.”

“I’m not his girl,” you stated, stony. 

“Yeah, I mean, sure, but he still said it.” You gave Scott a laced glare. Stiles’ hotdog was going cold in his hand. He grimaced.

“I told you,” he murmured, finally taking a bite.

Near the end of June, Kenny and Bree got froyo. He kissed her on the cheek; that’s when he first said I love you. She licked his spoon clean. You saw it from your car. Lydia said ew and then she stuck out her tongue and asked if you could take her home.

Under the surface, Stiles spun in and out of himself, choking on a laugh before he jolted up for air. You were always better at holding your breath. Once, when he was eleven and you were eleven and your older brother Joey was twelve, you won the who-can-stay-underwater-for-the-longest-no-breathing contest by ten whole seconds. You got the last cherry popsicle. Everything post that was a lot less climactic. 

He grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you back up with a rough tug.

“Okay, no! You for sure went down after me that time.” You pushed him back, swiping at the water.

“You’re such a sore loser!” His hair was matted to his forehead. It was his youngest moment in years, reveling in whatever the sun and the grass dew and the chlorine provided. He gave you another dilated look, more defiant than before. “If you’d just admit I’m better then we could move on.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t tell bold-faced lies.” He swiped back, splashing your face. “Plus, you’re way too cocky.”

“I’m not cocky, I just won, you ass.” Your next splash was over-zealous. Stiles coughed on pool water, but he did it with upturned lips, fighting another laugh. Sometimes, though, when he was smiling and laughing and getting splashed in the face, you’d think of the time he’d cracked his head open on the blue tile when was seven, and how he’d cried so hard you thought you might puke.

You faltered, slipping a bit as you waded over to the ladder. You glanced over your shoulder. He was pushing the hair from his forehead, stationary.

“No round four?” He pouted.

“No round four!” You grabbed your towel, checking your phone. “Scott’s gonna be here in ten. Did you warn him about Lottie?” 

“Why would I warn him?”

“Because she’s in love with him and he’s going to take his shirt off.”

“She’s thirteen!” Stiles splashed around carelessly, moving to the edge of the pool.

“Thirteen and insatiable, yeah. She won’t stop asking me about him now that he and Allison broke up.” This, you thought, and showed glaringly in your twist of features, was silly, since it was one of those things, something you’d known all too well in your youth, where it didn’t matter if the guy had a girlfriend or was married or just madly in love; for Charlotte, it was a fantasy, just like it was for you with Stiles.

“I think Scott can handle himself against your little sister.” He pulled himself out of the pool. You looked away; it felt ambiguously wrong. You decided to stop inviting him over for a swim.

“Insatiable,” you repeated, making sure to enunciate slowly. “You want food?” Stiles scoffed.

“Like you ever have to ask.” He slumped down into a patio chair, reaching lazily for his towel, splayed across the table. You only ever tolerated his disorganization because he was so boyish and appealing with it most of the time, only occasionally acting annoyingly unaware. “Can you make sandwiches? I love when you make sandwiches.”

“Yeah, sure.” Your phone buzzed. Lydia was entranced by a collegiate asshole named Rick Bigabsshinycar, which she didn’t shut up about for at least a week “You want the crusts cut off those, little guy?” He spat out a laugh, ironic, and gave you a playful expression of un-amusement. Of course, he ended up making his own sandwich.

Lydia said that her first time was with Jackson. She said it hurt more than she had expected it to, and that he wasn’t very attentive, not in the way she would’ve liked. But she also said that she loved him with all of her guts, all innards and organs, so it didn’t matter how horrible it had been. She still thought back on it fondly.

“You could try it with Stiles. He definitely would,” she remarked, running the pads of her fingers along her new manicure. “But then, of course, you could never just be his friend again, so you’d have to deal with that, which I don’t think you want to do.”

You shook your head, sweating at this idea, but she was looking elsewhere, in her own mind too much to observe you.

“Like with Scott and Allison,” she said. “They’ll never just be friends, even if they talk. It’ll always be different, you know? I bet it’ll be worse with Stiles too, since he’s so neurotic.” 

This was a dilemma you had never been forced to face. It stung you thoroughly and left you aching. 

Scott picked Roadhouse for movie night, which you always thought was super macho, but ended up coming back around in this overly-sensitive, girly way that only self-obsessed man films can achieve. Still, he was Scott, so when the movie was funny he laughed and when the movie was serious he laughed again.

“I watched this with my dad when I was a kid,” he said, mouth full of popcorn. He was always eating, savage.

“The sex?” you questioned. “The violence?” Your voice raised in volume. Scott shrugged.

“It’s not the same for boys,” Stiles chimed in, academic in tone. “We’re exposed to these things at an early age. That’s what gives us the cooties and over-zealous sex drives.”

“Ew.” You grimaced, deciding against another handful of popcorn. 

“It’s true,” Scott agreed. “If I hadn’t watched Roadhouse, I’d probably be celibate. I mean, who knows if I would’ve ever even wanted a girlfriend.” You doubted, furrowing. 

“Yeah, but it's not just about sex. There’s emotional stuff there too.”

“Sex emotions,” said Stiles. He shot you a popcorn-littered grin. You shoved his gleeful face, palm against his cheek, and he chuckled, tossing a few kernels in your direction. He fought back with no spine, limp as your hand drifted to his shoulder before dropping back to your lap. “I’m serious! It’s a lot more important for us than it is for you.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean that watching Roadhouse at infancy permanently alters your brain chemistry.”

“It doesn’t have to be Roadhouse,” Scott added, waving his hand over Stiles’ head, pointing at you vaguely. “Could be, like, porn or something really scary. Poltergeist or Jaws.”

“It’s puberty,” you said. He dropped his arm, frowning. “And I know that you weren’t just with Allison because you wanted to sleep with her.” You fiddled with your thumbs, Stiles noticing with a held glance. “That was love.”

“God, now you’re the gross one,” Stiles groaned. Patrick Swayze kicked ass in your periphery. Without drawing focus, he pulled one of your hands away, stopping the fidgeting. “Do we really have to talk about love during movie night?” He crossed his arms, head falling back on the couch. 

“I think it’s important to be candid about your emotions with your friends.” Stiles returned the face shove you’d given him, playfully pushing you away and sticking out his tongue with a big blegh. He threw you off center, and you grabbed onto the arm of the couch to adjust. 

“Course I loved her. The point is that I still wanted to you know with her, like, all the time, which was only because of the culture, A.K.A. Roadhouse, slash all that other dude stuff I saw as a kid.” Scott didn’t talk about his father a lot. As the conversation continued, you saw yourself in a bad light, wondering if you really just weren’t part of the hivemind in the same way that he and Stiles were. You felt stale, like heels clicking down a tile hall, stiff and unsmooth. 

“Whatever,” you drawled, turning back to the screen. “I just think that sex isn’t as all-consuming as people make it out to be.” You reached over Stiles’ lap for the popcorn bowl. “And I definitely don’t think that Roadhouse has anything to do with child sexual development.”

“This is why we never should’ve made friends with a girl. It’s actually revolting how sweet you are,” Stiles spat out through a bothered facade. You knew he found you novel.

“I’m not sweet!” Your argument fell flat when you tossed a palm of popcorn in your mouth, muffling your protests.

“It’s a good thing,” Scott assured. “You’re like a friendly bird.”

“Oh, yeah! Like a canary. You remind me of a canary,” Stiles said, shooting you another popcorn grin. He smelled uncharacteristically mall-esque, something you suddenly noticed as you re-adjusted, scooting a bit closer to him. It was one of those things you cataloged to your constant string of evidence that he thought about you, that he wanted to smell good because he knew you’d be able to tell. “Don’t worry, we love you just the way you are,” he teased, patting your shoulder. 

The rest of the movie was a lot of the same, and then a whole different argument about condiments, and then another about Kenny’s new haircut, which Stiles adamantly despised while Scott was mostly impartial, maybe leaning a little on the positive side at certain points. 

Later, Stiles’ fell asleep on your shoulder, and Scott reacted with a quiet laugh, saying, let him stay there, I think he’s been having nightmares.

stiles 9:56 p.m. lydia is dating a college guy?! u shud have told me wtfff

Kenny called you, drunk, late, on a Sunday. It was right after you got off work. On work: things were averagely stilted with Josh, and he didn’t bother you much. Sometimes you caught him looking at the back of your neck, though, and so you knew he still wanted you at least a little carnally.

“Can you pick me up,” Kenny asked, mumbling. He hadn’t spoken to you since he’d dropped off a few miscellaneous belongings at the start of summer. The way you missed him felt almost pavlovian.

“No.” You stared at the crack in your ceiling, limbs splayed out across your bed.

“Please, ohmygodohmygod, please please, it’s so late, please,” he said. “I know you want to,” he slurred, an attempt at cheeky.

“Can I hang up now?” You knew that if he passed out on a bench and swallowed his own puke you’d blame yourself forever. 

“Wait! Come on, come on, I miss you,” he whispered, and you could tell he was getting closer to the phone. “I miss you, really. Can you come pick me up?”

“I don’t have a car,” you admitted, shivering. Before he called, you had been thinking about Stiles, about how his hair might feel under your fingers, how his shirt might look draped over the back of your chair, that sort of stuff. Still wistful, you meandered in the conversation.

“Since when?” You sighed momentarily, picturing the way Kenny used to love you, to look at you with love, and say it all the time, even if he didn’t mean it for every one.

“Since it broke down in May.”

“Take your mom’s. Take the van. I just really need a ride, okay?”

“I’m not stealing the van while she’s sleeping.” He scoffed faintly from the other end, pausing to think, you thought. You hung onto the phone, glancing over at the night shone through your window. You liked the view from the house at night, with the quiet street and grass lawns, all generally manicured, comfortingly monotonous.

“What about Stiles? Can you get Stiles to do it?”

“Do you seriously not have other people you can call?”

“No, and stop being such a bitch about it.” His tone made you feel dirty, like there was a layer of grime on your skin that you couldn’t scratch off. It was nearly nauseating to talk to him so casually, to want him so little, and still have to hear his voice.

“Yeah, good luck,” you murmured, hanging up.

To: stiles 11:47 p.m. don’t worry he’s ugly 11:49 p.m. also kenny just called supa drunk. blerguh

You hadn’t masturbated since Kenny dumped you. Lydia said it was good for the soul, but she was too candid about things, and sometimes you thought she was wrong anyways, no matter how much she seemed to mean it. It all felt unbalanced. The desire to have sex with Stiles became more emotional as the weeks went on, and the physical part of your wants fell to the background. Besides, if you did think about him when you did that sort of thing, you always felt a bit nasty after and wished you had just searched for some semi-artsy softcore, not that it ever did much as a replacement. 

Stiles sat vacantly on the end of your bed most nights, staring off into space, murmuring softly to himself, glancing down at you every so often. He never touched you, too far to reach out for, but when you woke up in a jolt he’d be sitting there, back hunched over, chin in his palms, smiling like he knew everything all the time. 

Lydia always wanted you over early to help with party set ups; her new solo cups were pink, which you found way too exuberant for the sort of night it was, too birthday, but took them out of the bag and set them on the counter nonetheless. She was still curling her hair, huffing every few minutes, teasing and spraying and wetting and drying and brushing, clearly tempted to rip it all straight out.

“You didn’t invite Stiles did you?” She put down the iron, fussing with her ends, looking at you through the mirror.

“Was I not supposed to?”

“He just lame-ifys the atmosphere, you know?”

Once people filled out the space, Lydia got lost in it. You sat on the couch, crossed-legged, staring at conversations. You held your cup with two hands. Your legs felt cold. You had invited Stiles, but he’d said maybe, a foreign response for a Lydia party. He wanted to be her arm guy, her arm-around-the shoulder-at-a-party-leaning-on-the-wall-all-suave guy, with a smirk and a confidence that always evaded him. His intense distaste of social gatherings never kept him from her, not until the maybe.

“Where’s your lover?” Kenny had a blazer on. It was his occasion blazer. He washed it once a month even if he didn’t wear it and always kept it ironed. He was holding a real beer, not just a half-empty pink solo cup that was stained with lipstick and spit. 

“Who?” You glanced over quickly, refusing to turn to the side to give him a proper look. 

“Stiles, obviously.” He shifted uncomfortably in your periphery. You closed your eyes, lips pursed.

“Why are you here? Lydia hates you.” He banged the tip of his shoe against the foot of the couch a few times, flittering.

“I wanted to say sorry about calling you, for saying all that stuff, and I just figured you’d be here.” There was a rush when he implied that he had been thinking about you. It had been days, nearly a week, you thought. You pictured him roasting in guilt at all hours, pushing away a smile.

“Well, I really would’ve preferred a text, so,” you drifted, glaring from behind your hair, head downturned. You picked at the hem of your skirt.

“Can I sit?” He waved his beer at the place beside you. Finally deciding to look at him fully, your eyes caught on his short hair, freshly cut. In response you shrugged, biting your cheek.

Stiles showed up two and a half hours after the time posted on Facebook, which was a half an hour before people were supposed to show up anyway, so he was only around two hours late, not two and a half, but it still felt rude and little like he was doing it all just to spite you. Why he’d ever want to piss you off, you were entirely unsure. It seemed, though, as Kenny talked your ear off about how he had gotten so drunk that night and why he had decided to bother you about it, that it was the ultimate purgatory after all.

“Bree, she’s got a convict dad, you know? He’s out now but he was locked up when she was a kid, so she’s a huge drinker. She loves to drink and she hates when the people around her don’t feel the same. I just got so caught up in it; you get that, yeah? Getting caught up in stuff? I do it all the time, leads to the worst shit. Once, I stole a tow truck on a dare, you know, because I was so high after this party, and I almost got arrested.” He had gained a bit of weight, maybe muscle, since you’d gotten a good look at him last. His nose less thin, cheeks less gaunt: he was more objectively attractive than he’d ever been, but a bit more intimidating, too.

“A tow truck?”

“Yeah, one of those little ones.” He sipped down something big before tilting his bottle off into the distance. “Your lover,” he indicated. Stiles was wearing black jeans and a fat frown, looking at you, his hand on Scott’s shoulder, tapping incessantly.

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“That he’s your lover?” Kenny circled the beer bottle on his kee, tilting his head side to side. “Well, mostly because you’re in love with him, but also a little because I like seeing the face you make,” he smiled, “like that, yeah.”

You furrowed: “I’m not.” Your lipgloss was starting to feel tacky, separating around the little cracks on your lips, the ones you struggled not to bite off. Scott dragged Stiles into the kitchen. 

Kenny laughed: “Okay.” You could feel him staring at the side of your face, the heat of it. He put his hand on your shoulder, fingers prickling up the side of your neck, teasing the nape. “You look really pretty tonight,” he murmured, breath warm.

“I think Kenny wants to fuck me,” you told Lydia, refilling your cup. “He touched my neck, like, sensually.”

“I’m opposed to the idea that Kenny can do anything sensually.” She messed with the hair on the back of your head, tossing it around before flattening it back down again. “But you know I don’t like him.” Her hand pressed into your elbow, a sign to stop pouring. She had pity face when you met her eyes. “If you’re going to fuck someone tonight, make it Stiles.”

“You don’t like Stiles either.” 

“I like him more than Kenny, and so do you.” Her lips pressed together, narrowing tentatively. “Also, like, your summer ennui is getting really old and I just think you should do something exciting with your life.”

“My summer ennui?” You drank. Warmth invaded your self-imposed isolation. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. You just seem kind of depressed right now and I think fucking Stiles would be good for you.” You scowled at her from behind the sanctity of your drink.

Stiles had his arms crossed in the family room. Harley and Josie and Steve from pre-calc made up a mini-conversation circle around him, Scott glued to his side. He spotted you once you entered the room, your heeled shoes causing you to stumble through the archway, confidence wavering. Kenny had wandered, and you supposed that you feared him, what he might try to initiate, eyes skirting the perimeter.

“Hey!” Stiles broke the circle to jog over to you. “Hey, I’m here!”

“Yeah, I can see that you’re here.” He vibrated on his feet. “You should try to find Lydia. That college guy just dumped her and she’s super drunk.”

“The ugly one?” Even inquisitive, he seemed oddly disinterested, like he was just floating around the topic, not caring to collide.

“No, I just said that to make you feel better. He was really hot.” Your heels burned, and the atmosphere felt dizzying. Stiles laughed. He beamed.

“Hey, so, why were you and Kenny talking earlier?” His brow creased, something to dig into. 

“Well, I think he wants to have sex with me, but I’m not really sure why. He can be cryptic.” You were a blunt drunk. Stiles wrinkled his eyes with a hesitant annoyance, biting the inside of his cheek. He was buzzing, hands twitching, noticing your detachment, eyes in a constant spiral.

“You think you’ll do it? If he tries.” The question was kryptonite. You wanted to melt at his feet. He chewed at some dry skin on his bottom lip, and you knew this was a whole different purgatory, one far more tailored.

“You mean, have sex with him? Are you really asking me that?” Stiles wasn’t the sort of boy you discussed your sexuality with. Even though you’d trust him with your beating heart in his palms, he got sweaty when he remembered you had a vagina, and there were things you knew to keep concealed. He smiled on one side, tilting his head with an inward chuckle.

“Yeah, I don’t know. Sure.”

“Well, no, I won’t. He dumped me.” You wondered if he could see you in a form that weak. Everything withered, and Stiles seemed disheartened. Trivial things were allowed in the summer. In the summer, it was okay to be sixteen. 

“Yeah, course, I know I just–”

“I don’t like Kenny anymore.” You took a sip of your drink, concealing your growing urgency, everything bubbling in your throat. “He’s a dick,” you explained, swallowing hard. Stiles had a bit of a vacant thing, hollow, mind in another room. 

“I’m aware,” Stiles barked, half sardonic and half like he had somehow been scorned. The party surrounded like hounds, shoving, forming a mass. It felt like the room was caving in, something inherently uneasy about the way he spoke to you and the way he looked you in the eye. He bit his tongue.

“You’re aware?” 

“Yeah, I’m aware.” He teetered on his left foot, pressing hard into the floor. He glanced down at your drink. “He said some stuff, like, a few months ago, when you guys were still dating. I just don’t like him, whatever.”

“Some stuff?”

“Yeah, like, dumb shit. I just–” he caught himself. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Your face is telling me that it does.” You grinned for a moment, toothless, and he scoffed. In dreamland, Stiles uttered, he called you easy, a slut, so I sucker punched him, grabbed him by the collar, and told him never to talk about you like that again, because I’ve loved you since we were little, and I’m also infallible, by the way. Your throat burned. His mouth hung agape for a moment, expecting some sort of out, but failed to find escape.

“He was jealous,” Stiles admitted, scratching at the back of his hand. “Just, don’t talk to him anymore, okay?”

He had never commanded you, not once, not really. If he did, he was joking, or he wasn’t, but you were, and it didn’t end up mattering. Despite the way he’d wavered around his vague notions of a prior argument, playing it off as another quickly passing mishap in what was, knowing him, a haphazard day, his voice was flat, mouth tight. You gave him a withering look, stepping back unconsciously. You shook your head, and you were leaning harder on one foot, oblivious to a piece of hair hanging down into your eyes. It wasn’t the time for dynamics to shift.

“Why are you being weird?”

He countered, moving forward: “I’m not being weird,” he reached out.

“Yes, you are. Stop it.” He ran his palm over his forehead in exasperation.

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t like that you’re talking to him again.” His hands gestured at his sides, emphatic. He was a few decibels away from exclaiming, only hushed in fear of you scurrying away. You shook your head again, a few times, indignant.

“Don’t be an ass, Stiles.”

“Me, an ass? Kenny is the one who dumped you so he could fuck other girls!” Your ears rang. Drunkenness hadn’t quite hit you until his tone raised. You thought that, yes, you agreed with Lydia. If you let him stick it in right there and then, it might feel therapeutic in some sense, gaining back control. Still, he had big, brown eyes and they were wet and they were open and he was staring, almost beastly, hand outstretched. Something struck him, and he surged forward. “Hey, no–”

“Whatever.” You pushed past him, needing a nap. In dreamland, he grabbed you back by the wrist, pulled you in, gripped your waist, kissed you as hard as he could without tongue, and told you it was love for him too. There was no beckoning call, just “Dancing On My Own” and a bundle of roaring laughs. You huffed to yourself, finding the hallway, setting down your drink, and leaning against the console table, trying not to heave.

Kenny rediscovered you in Lydia’s guest room, your face stuffed into a throw pillow, eyes leaving smudged black marks, even though you would've denied that you ever cried. You could hear that it was him, his chunky shoes and dragging feet entirely emblematic of his hardened core.

“It wasn’t me, was it?” He sat down on the end of the bed, glancing at his lap.

“No,” you muttered, leaning up on your elbows. He still had his beer.

“Ah,” he spoke, nearly spat. “So, Stilinski?” There was a moment of silence, as if this idea angered you, and a tense feeling surrounded your shoulders and your neck. 

“What did you say to him?” you questioned, sitting up to lean back against the headboard. Kenny’s brows pinched together.

“What?”

“Stiles said you told him something, when we were still together, that you were jealous.”

Kenny pondered on this, his lips twisting up strangely. Half of you thought he might hold you down by the hips and lie about love again, but he only shook his head, smiling crookedly to himself.

“Course I was jealous. You want to be with him.”

Post-party, you didn’t speak to Stiles for days. Lydia, in infinite tact, was right. Kenny didn’t seem to want to talk either: no calls or texts or handwritten letters. He very well could’ve fucked you that night, if he had been more kind and less insistent on your priorities. Mostly, you spent time with your sisters and mowed the lawn. Once, you saw a movie with a friend from cross country.

stiles 11:34 p.m. are u mad at me?

“I’m not mad at you, Stiles.” He was a bad phone call. He talked entirely too much, and since there was no physical manifestation of him beside you in bed, you couldn’t punch him in the shoulder or send him a glare to shut him up. 

“You seem mad.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“You ran away from me. I pissed you off.”

“You didn’t piss me off. I was just drunk.” You sighed, glancing at the clock. Monday loomed ominously in the corner of your eyes. There was a residual ache from the colder months, even though work often broke the boundaries of weekend rest. “I left because I didn’t want to be mad. I wasn’t mad.”

“But you would’ve been?”

“Stiles,” you chided, rubbing your hairline.

“I’m reasonably concerned! I didn't want to make you angry; I was just being honest. I mean, the guy is a complete fucking loser, he doesn’t care about you, but he does you the small kindness of striking up a conversation and you just, what, forgive him?” His voice cracked over the line. Your thumb hovered inadvertently over the red button, but you knew it to be some greater sign, your muscles pushing you to pull the plug.

“I don’t forgive him,” you muttered, about to retort with something like you don’t understand or it’s not like that, but he very much did understand and it was, in fact, very much like that. Being wanted was a bliss more intense and all-consuming than a fresh cherry slushie. “And it’s not really any of your business,” you added on, trying to find your edge.

A groan ripped out of him, but he’d taken a step back from the phone, so it came to you muffled and softer than intended.

“What is the deal with you and assholes?” he asked, incredulous. 

Kenny wasn’t the asshole that Stiles made him out to be. He had a conflicting household, and you were sure the weed had been getting to his brain. He was just a rodent. You were too simple for his universe, too concise, and you were in love with your friend, which you didn’t think helped any. In the smaller moments, Kenny saw you in a pure way, and he admired that. He liked you. You wondered if Stiles found that perverse.

“Are you jealous?” you threw back, too in the heat of it to consider the implications. You had to remind yourself that this wasn't dreamland, and he wouldn’t be at your window, saying yes, I'm jealous, because I love you like hell, so can we kiss now, finally? You choked on a breath waiting for him to reply, which took a while. You could hear him thinking into the phone, a wavering “uh” spilling out.

“What?”

Considering a path to take, a way to flip this on its head, you stuttered, “I–”, swallowing, “it’s just that, no one wanted me before, when we were younger, but they do now. I mean, I have a life and you’re acting like it’s a sin or something.”

“That’s not true.” He was even.

“Yes, it is! You keep berating me for–”

“No, no, the thing about no one wanting you before, it’s not true.” This you clocked as a play on his part, a way to defuse your tone. He knew, of course, that when he said something sweet, you’d get soft and forgive him forever, because you always forgave him forever. The pit in your stomach boiled.

“That’s not my point.”

“But it is your point, and it’s not true, so your entire argument is null. I know for a fact that Drew Pike had a huge thing for you in fourth grade, so much so that he asked me, who he despised intensely, if you liked him back. Sure, I said no, because Drew was a mouth breather and wasn’t nearly enough of a gentleman, but still.”

You scoffed: “That doesn’t count.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s dumb, and it’s just one small example amidst sixteen years of barren landscape.” You felt that you urgently needed to stand up, take space from the phone, and pace circles around your room for a few hours, or maybe until you wore down your socks into thin strips of unwearable fabric, feet bleeding. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you confirmed, stale.

“Well, I do. Are you with him now?”

“Drew Pike? No, he moved to Texas, and I think that ship sailed.”

“Kenny,” he spat, firm. “Did you get back together with Kenny?” He had a tone to him that you were unfamiliar with, something sharp and awful, something like you’d seen at the beach, or at Peter’s party.

“No, Stiles, I didn't get back together with Kenny. I told you, I don’t like him anymore.”

“Yeah, well–” he breathed heavily, “well, good.” You knew he wouldn’t be saying those things if he could understand how much you wanted him, how much you didn’t mind his poor tendencies or his social miscalculations. You knew he’d hang up the phone and never spend another night with his sleeping head on your tired shoulder. The nail of your thumb scratched at your knuckles hard, picking and peeling and biting bad.

“Awesome. I’m going to bed.” You ended the call without a goodnight.

[thepenguinmaker]

♡ (Platonic) South park x reader - Your best friends! ♡

Aka; what it feels like being best friends with the South Park gang (featuring; the main 4, Butters)

~ Stan

- You were in a similar situation to him: bit of a troubled home life

- You got along with him and his friends ever since preschool, but you were much closer to him than the others

- Maybe it was his (usually) calm attitude or his similarities to you, you don't know

- Even after he moved to a farm, you come over to him to play video games or board games almost every second day

- Whenever he's feeling depressed, you try to comfort him to your best efforts

- His mother is always very glad to see you and to be honest you and Sharon kinda became friends along the years

- Not so much Randy or Shelley, though

~ Kyle

- Same situation as Stan, you knew him since preschool and always liked him

- Being his best friend, you're prone to getting picked on by Cartman

- ^ Very toned down compared to Kyle though (except if you're Jewish too)

- He lets you babysit Ike sometimes when he has basketball practice or something

- You have some kind of matching keychain, either related to Terrance and Phillip or your interest

- You study or do group projects together a lot

- ^ You may or may not tease him and call him a nerd the whole time, but he still enjoys hanging with you

- You still get As on them anyway (mostly thanks to Kyle)

~ Cartman

- OH BOY

- Being Cartman's best friend is a wild ride

- You're not protected from his insults, don't you even dare think so

- You are obligated to agree with him always, and he will get upset if you don't

- Hanging out with Cartman mostly consists of playing the newest video games while he stuffs himself full of cheesy poofs

- His mom really likes you, she's glad her son hasn't had a bad influence on you

- Liane will often make you treats and sometimes even talk to you about your day, she kinda acts like you're her child too

- You need to share all your stuff with him. Would you be surprised if I told you he doesn't share any of his?

~ Kenny

- You're never hanging at his house, nuh-uh

- You don't bully or shame your best friend for being the poor kid in town, but you can't help but agree with Cartman that his house is a dump

- He doesn't mind though, he's really glad he can get away from his parents bickering

- He will sometimes bring over Karen with him too, and you get along great

- You get him gifts and share your stuff with him very often (you get some things for Karen too if you have the money)

- You both like dressing up or creating costumes and playing pretend

- You assist each other in creating your outfits, with Kenny giving you advice and you getting him tools, decorations, fabric, etc.

~ Butters

- You started hanging out with Butters because you took pity on him after all the other kids ripped on him

- Turns out he's actually very nice and you became quick best friends

- He doesn't really like playing video games (except for Hello Kitty Island Adventure), so when you're hanging out you're usually outside or playing with toys

- You have your own villain persona to match Professor Chaos

- You did, infact, go with him to Hawaii that one time

- He'd rather go to your house than his, due to his absurdly strict father

- You lowkey have a whole dance routine set to the Loo Loo Loo song he always sings (not tapdancing though, he still has a lot of trauma from that)

A/N: ok this time I TRIED to get it to look good.. and by that I mean I tried to get gradient text, couldn't figure out HTML then gave up. sorry folks.

[moonfromearth]

🎁 300 Followers Celebratory CC Free Sim Dump!! 🎁

I can't believe the blog has made it to over 300 followers!! 😱 Thank you all so much for following and being so incredibly supportive. It really means the world to me. 🥰

I know I haven't been around very much but I promise that this is the beginning of me posting more again! So stay tuned for the return of the Horse Ranch series and my upcoming For Rent series that will probably be getting teased more soon... 😏

With that out of the way, here are the sims!

The theme for this was chosen via poll and I had so much fun seeing what everyone picked! I don't know why I was so surprised that "families" won because I wasn't sure what I expected to win 😆

All four of these families are cc free (if it says cc in the gallery I swear there's no cc! I haven't figured out the culprit but it still says they have cc in my gallery so idk 🤷‍♀️) and all have set careers, clubs, skills, and dynamics! Hopefully they all turned out good 😅

Enjoy! 😉

Full Sim Dump [Google Drive]

[Profile photos, brief descriptions, and individual household download links are all under the cut!]

Household 1 - The Li-Suwan Family

After quitting her job after the birth of their first child, Ying was hoping to go back into the work force, but with two new babies and her mother around, that's near impossible! Meanwhile, Min is in her rebellious phase, feeling like the whole world is against her, except for her grandmother. Erik is struggling to make friends and Kenny is the golden child but feels his crown slipping a way with the new babies in the house.

Li-Suwan Family Download Link [Google Drive]

Household 2 - The Hawley Family

Husbands Grant and Will have completely devotd themselves to the raising of their three kids, but with their oldests attending college classes their parenting roles are beginning to dwindle. Kamryn has given her all to school while Kayson enjoys a more laid back experience, frequenting the campus parties. Youngest, Hallie, dreams of being an actress but for now enjoys her childhood with family dog.

Hawley Family Download Link [Google Drive]

Household 3 - The Whitaker-Perez Family

Sloane and Karla have been waiting forever to adopt a child, and finally after all their years of waiting young Zane has entered their home! An energetic, rambunctious kid, Zane isn't quite sure what to make of his new mothers, one a quirky school teacher and the other a serious and professional doctor, but he's hoping that they'll all get used to their new family dynamic… However long that could take.

Whitaker-Perez Family Download Link [Google Drive]

Household 4 - The Barretts

Jayda Barrett is planning on going places. She's climbing up the corporate ladder, slowly but surely, with big dreams of becoming a huge executive or CEO, a position that brings in the big simoleons. Jayda is a single mom to an imaginative and horse loving toddler, Myla, who roams the house going on grand adventures with their cat, Carrot, already developing big dreams of her own.

Barrett Household Download Link [Google Drive]

[ace-does-stuff]

Lesion

Summary: Kyle is getting tired of Kenny dying every other day, and the only thing that can stop Kenny from going on his patrols is the wound he wakes up with instead of a scar, and even at that, it's not very effective

Warnings: injury, body dumping, Cartman calls them fags but thats expected, character death, panic, relationship problems intertwined with Kennys vigilantism/death curse, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: I woke up at four AM yesterday and chose violence, have some k2, Cartman is also here cause his dynamic with Kenny is fun to write. Anyways, if ya'll enjoyed consider dropping a reblog or checking out the Ao3 port, it really means a lot

"When do you plan on not getting fatally wounded?" Kyle asked from the passenger seat.

Kenny, who was still wrapped in his Mysterion outfit, simply shrugged from the backseat. His head was propped against the door and his blood spilling onto leather upholstery, "When the world stops being terrible."

"You two are so lucky I have truck," Cartman scoffed from the drivers seat, eyes locked firmly on the road, "Really, lugging around a dead body in a hyundai would not work."

"It's a subaru," Kyle corrects with an exasperated sigh.

"I'm not dead yet," Kenny snapped to the best of his ability, the gash in his abdomen made it harder to do that, "But really, thanks for helping Kyle with disposing of me."

"That's what friends are for," Cartman answered with, briefly raising his gaze to the mirror to catch Kenny with a smirk. The blonde tries his hardest to return it despite the agony coursing through him. He reaches for the stereo, "Any song requests? Otherwise we're just hoping the radio is playing something good."

"The Offspring," Kenny answered with, "Or Green Day, whatever you have a disc of."

Cartman hands the CD book to Kyle whose flipping through the pages already. The hum of asphalt and tires is comfortable enough to lull Kenny into a false sense of sleep. He's tugged from said semblance of sleep when the start of a track starts to play right beside his head. Kyle glances past the headrest and Kenny's breathing is starting to slow down, the constant rise and fall accentuating blood that shimmers in the low light.

He undoes his seat belt before awkwardly climbing into the back and trying his very hardest to not nudge Cartman. The last time he did he was forced sit in a pool of Kenny's blood on the ride home. He isn't quite sure how he manages to fit in the back, some of him is pressed against the back of the driver's seat, some of him is on the ground- it's uncomfortable, but he endures.

"I think this is illegal," Kenny said, he would gesture to how Kyle is 'sitting' but he can't.

"I think dumping your body off a bridge almost daily is also illegal Ken, whose keeping track?" Kyle asked as grabbed Kenny's hand, sliding his fingers under the hem of the wrist to rest on his palm. His hand is cold, Kyle's fingertips are warm, it's a contrast that would be worrying to anyone that doesn't know how often Kenny dies.

"Good point," Kenny said, he brought his other hand to rest on Kyle's, "Love you."

"Love you too," Kyle answered with quietly.

"Can you fags please shut up while I'm driving?" Cartman asked on a groan.

Kenny just grinned and look he met Cartman with was nothing but mischievous, "I dunno darling, can we?"

Kyle gives a hum, "I'm afraid not my love, we simply cannot shut up," He briefly pressed a kiss to Kenny's cheek and the blonde laughs a bit.

He winces after the laugh dies down, "Hurts to laugh," He keeps laughing though, because the fact it hurts to laugh is humorous in itself. Kyle's hands come to press on his wound and the mix of sweat against raw nerves stings like a bitch, he bites his tongue instead of screaming.

Cartman just rolls his eyes and turns up the stereo.

Kyle wraps his arms around Kenny's torso to the best of his ability and squeezes. Not super tight, he doesn't want to speed up the process of blood loss. Kenny weakly returns the gesture, knocking the side of his head against Kyle's.

"You are not patrolling tomorrow," Kyle said quietly.

Kenny gives a hum, "Maybe."

-/-/-/-

Kenny gives a wave as he goes falling off the cliff into the icy river below.

Cartman waves back, Kyle does not.

"See you guys later!" Kenny shouted up mere moments before his head goes under and he closes his eyes.

He swears he hears Cartman call back, "Don't be late for work!" before everything goes dark.

Kyle just watches as the air bubbles up and the near still water clouds with a deep red. It's washed away along with Kenny's corpse, it floats to the top, but most know to leave his body if they find it. Kyle leans against Cartman and he hates the fact he does but it's cold outside, and he's convinced Cartman is constantly running a fever with how high his body heat is. The brunette slings an arm around Kyle's shoulders but doesn't dare drop his hand anywhere lower than an upper arm or pull the redhead closer.

"Do you think he'll ever stop?" Kyle asked quietly.

Cartman shrugged, "He's been doing this since grade four, being a hero, dying, coming back, and repeating the cycle."

Kyle tensed, "He's been dying since grade four and you didn't tell us?"

"You didn't believe me," Cartman said, "I tried to tell you guys, I even had pictures. Still, you thought I was lying, and look at us now! Dumping your boyfriends body like a couple of chums."

"We are not chums," Kyle snarled out as he glared at Cartman, he shrugged.

"How dare I assume that doing illegal activities together would help us bond? How bold of me," Cartman scoffed, he lifted his arm and stepped away. Kyle simply pulled his jacket a little tighter, "Trucks still running, it'll be nice and toasty when you're ready to leave."

Kyle stayed to stare at the water until Cartman got impatient and started blasting the horn of the truck. Only then did Kyle begrudgingly sit up in shotgun, leaned against the window. Normally this is where Cartman changes the CD and sprays disinfectant on the backseat, he doesn't tonight, he just lets the tracks play and the scent of blood stagnate.

-/-/-/-

Kyle wakes up and the bed is empty, he can hear Kenny meandering about though. He rolls over to where he knows Kenny sleeps and the sheets are still warm, and wet. The sheets are wet. That snaps him awake, he sits up and sniffs the air, it has a tang to it.

He glances down to the sun bathed sheets to find a splatter of pooling red, it's splashed across the blankets and sinking into the mattress. It's saturated enough to cling to his clothing where contact was made, the splotchy hues trail across the carpet and the door handle has blood smeared across it. Failed suicide attempt? He knows that Kenny does that sometimes if he's having a really bad day, or if he knows Cartman is gonna be pissed off.

He drags himself out of bed and makes his way down the hall, he follows the bloody finger prints trailed across the walls. It's straight out of a horror movie but it does nothing to deter Kyle. The bathroom door is left open and he finds Kenny sitting in the bath tub with a once white towel wrapped around his abdomen while he hyper ventilates.

"Ken?" Kyle croaked out.

Kenny snapped up to meet his gaze and he eases right away, "Something is really wrong."

"I can tell," Kyle said as he rubbed his eyes, staring at the fluid along the base of the tub. He walked over and dropped down in front of Kenny, "You've never woken up and bled out in the bath tub."

"Can you call over Cartman, he's sort of the expert on this shit," Kenny asked desperately.

"Do I have too?" Kyle asked.

"He keeps records on this shit, he's being doing it since day one," Kenny said, "I don't remember all of my deaths man, if anyone would know if this has happened before it would be Cartman."

Kyle gave a heavy groan of annoyance, "Fine. Take off the towel and your jacket so I can look for shrapnel."

"I don't think there's any bullets left," Kenny said as he tossed aside the towel. The glistening gash was much smaller than it was last night but it still glimmered like uncut rubies. It went no deeper than the muscles, but the pulse of organs underneath was still visible. The heady scent of blood intensified.

"I still should clean it up a bit, wrap you up in some bandages," Kyle droned on.

"Call Cartman first," Kenny said.

Kyle rolled his eyes, "I'll go do that, if it's within arms reach get a towel ready."

-/-/-/-

"I've seen this before," Cartman said as he looked at the wound.

Kenny heaves a relieved sigh before pulling his shirt back on.

"Then what does it mean?" Kyle asked impatiently.

"Kennys gonna die and stay dead for a while," Cartman said, "This happened a couple times leading up the muscle deterioration when we were younger. I'd say he has five, maybe six, more deaths before he doesn't wake up."

"So I'm just gonna be dead for a bit?" Kenny asked.

Cartman nodded, "Shouldn't be longer than a month when it happens."

"Thank fuck," Kenny said.

"He's gonna be gone for a month?" Kyle asked, he sounded distraught at the notions.

"It's one month, you'll be fine," Kenny said, resting his hand on top of Kyle's.

"Stan's still gonna be here, I'll be here, but you hate me so scrap that, Craig and Tweek are gonna be here," Cartman listed, raising a finger for each name, "It's not like you'll be alone, just don't go chasing him into the afterlife."

Kyle nodded, "Okay."

"I'll be more careful, promise," Kenny said softly.

"Are we all good here now? Confusion cleared up?" Cartman asked as he started on his way to the door, stepping backwards as he went.

"Everythings good," Kenny answered with, "Thanks for dropping by."

"It's what friends are for," Cartman said.

The second the door shut Kyle leaned heavily onto Kenny, arms wrapped around his shoulders and holding him tightly. He yanked the blonde onto his lap just a bit.

"Hey, Ky, it'll be alright," Kenny said gently.

"Please don't die," Kyle answered with quietly, voice impossibly soft, just below a whisper.

Kenny took a stiff inhale and exhale, "You know how the curse works, it likes to strike me down."

"Don't go on patrol tonight," Kyle demanded, voice coming out frail despite the intention of sounding stern.

"I won't," Kenny lied, he needed to go on patrol, he needed to. He's not sure if he'd be able to sleep if he didn't.

"I need you man," Kyle said, knocking the side of his head against Kenny's, a mirror of the blondes usual motion of endearment. He heaves a shaky sigh, "It was rough last time you were gone for a month, don't do that to me."

"I'm gonna have too eventually," Kenny said as Kyle traced along scars from previous deaths, he had so many. Some were pale, some weren't, some bumped up others were flat, tracing them was something Kyle did frequently.

"I know," He answered with quietly, "Really wish you didn't have too."

"I'll stop going on patrols for a couple days," Kenny said, after tonight of course. He had to do one tonight, he needed too. Call it a compulsion, call it an obsession, he needed to do it.

"Thanks," Kyle said.

"Want me to make some waffles?" Kenny asked as he shrugged off Kyle's grip just a bit.

"Sure, I wanna help you out with that though," Kyle said as he lifted up Kenny and hoisted him over to the kitchen.

-/-/-/-

"Oh fuck you," Mysterion said as he glanced down to the knife jutting from his thigh, "Do you have any idea how hard it's gonna be to explain this one to my boyfriend?"

The assailant stood in shock, that usually worked.

"See, I promised him I wouldn't die tonight, or go on patrol for a little bit," Mysterion said as he paced around, "I have friends, Super Craig, Call Girl- they'll pick up the slack while I'm off duty, but explaining this to my boyfriend when I'm supposed to be sleeping beside him at home? Do you have any idea how much trouble you've landed me in?"

"You, you aren't worried about the knife?" The thug asked shakily.

Mysterion laughed, "No, god no, something like this? It's nothing pal," To prove a point he tugged the weapon from his limb and didn't even wince as it came out, "I'd suggest some barbs if you'd like it to hurt, maybe even get stuck," He trailed a finger along the sharpened and bloodied blade, it nearly cut open his glove, "It is rather nice as is."

The assailant just stayed silent, scared, intimidated- this was rather unexpected. They knew Mysterion was not to be messed with, but they didn't know it went this far.

"Two options bud," Mysterion said before pointing the tip to the bad guy, "You run, or you die; three seconds to choose."

They couldn't move, despite really wanting to live.

Mysterion gives a hum, "Tell Damien Kenny says hi."

Before they can even choke out a 'What?' there's a knife jammed between their eyes, digging so deep into cartilage it near instantly killed them. Airways blocked off, blood spilling into their lungs, skull ruptured, they die, just like that. And Mysterion is highly aware of how it feels, they should be thankful he didn't choose a worse death.

He watches them drop before kicking aside the corpse and leaving one of his many calling cards, this time it's a sticky note with his insignia on it. He heaves a full body sigh before starting on his way home, if he's lucky he'll make it back and Kyle won't be awake. If he's unlucky, Kyle will be livid and Kenny will be sleeping on the couch for the following who knows how long.

He walks down the streets and alleys with minimal limping as he goes. It's deep enough into the night that random civilians are somewhat minimal, and those that are out about are drunk, maybe even blackout drunk. He keeps his gaze lowered and he only lifts up his head when he hears the sound of a horn blaring right beside him.

He looks up to find a very disappointed Cartman glancing down at him from his truck window. He gives a nervous smile.

"Get in," Cartman barked as he popped open the door.

"Just crawl over you?" Mysterion asked, "Might get blood on your pants."

"I do not care, just get in," Cartman said, "It's the middle of the night in December, you're gonna freeze to death before you bleed to death."

Mysterion shrugged before hauling himself up, one hand on the door and the other at the side of the drivers seat. He flops his upper half onto Cartmans lap, awkwardly pressed between the steering wheel and his friend. The brunette yanks him the rest of the way with little to no care about the wound on his thigh.

He pulls the door shut and turns the heat on a little higher, "You weren't supposed to patrol tonight, Kenny. Kyle told me."

Kenny shrugged before pulling off the hood, slumped in the passenger seat comfortably. The hot air is blowing on his face and he didn't realize how cold he was, "He asked you to look for me, didn't he?"

Cartman nodded, "He did."

"Dude, how could you side with him?" Kenny asked venomously, "I'm gonna be in so much shit over this."

"You've seen Kyle mad, you know exactly why I did what he said," Cartman said defensively as he shifted into drive, "Unlike you, I do not come back from the dead."

Kenny gives an amused hum, "Fair point, fair point," He tugs off his gloves to rub them in front of the heating vent, "Thanks for picking me up man."

"Hey, it's what friends are for," Cartman answered with, reaching over to playfully punch Kenny in the shoulder. He held back a little bit of force, there could be a bruise there, and he would also be in shit if he worsened any of Kenny's wounds.

There's a sigh, "Fuck man, I swear, you're the most dependable person in our quartet."

Cartman just laughs, "The only reason I make sure you're getting dumped somewhere nice is because you lent me your playboys in grade nine," He's lying, he repaid that debt in cold hard cash on the same day it happened. He glances from the road to Kenny, "You are the only one that I've picked up from the strip club in a thong, covered in body glitter, I'd say that makes us a bit closer than the rest of the gang. Consider yourself lucky I still haven't told Kyle about that fiasco."

Kenny's face burns red at the memories of that downright outrageous event, "Fuck, that was a crazy night."

"Yeah, you told me all about it," Cartman said as he rolled his eyes.

"Thanks for everything," Kenny said quietly.

"It's my job," Cartman said, "Not really, but someone has to actually take care of you, unlike your boyfriend."

"Take that back," Kenny snapped venomously.

"You know what I mean, he makes sure you're feeling all happy and mentally stable, I pick you up from every event you don't want him to know about," Cartman explained halfheartedly, "I'm making sure that you're body rots somewhere with dignity, and that you don't freeze to death."

"I know," Kenny said, he rolled his eyes a bit as he spoke. There's a brief pauses, "Man it's fucking cold outside."

"That's why I was blasting the heat," Cartman said, giving a light chuckle, "I'll stick around in case he kicks you out."

Kenny refuses to look out the window, he knows what he'll see, "Well, wish me luck."

Cartman reaches over to place a hand on Kenny's shoulder, a familiar and silent affirmation, "You'll be fine."

"Thanks," The word comes out quietly before Kenny pops open the door and hops out.

He walks around the truck and he hates the fact his prediction was near entirely correct. The front door is open, golden glow of inside lighting shadowing out Kyle's form as he leans against the door frame. He's holding a mug of coffee and Kenny just knows that the redhead is holding a very disappointed look to go with it.

Kenny comes to a halt at the front step, a few feet of distance between him and Kyle. He can't bring himself to choke out a 'this isn't what it looks like' in a feeble attempt to sustain his dignity. It wouldn't even be worth it, there's still crimson oozing down his leg and he can't just say it's paint or some other bullshit excuse.

"Am I sleeping on the couch tonight," Kenny asked.

"You're sleeping in the bathtub so you don't get blood on the couch if anything," Kyle answered with, humor rested on his voice despite all odds.

"No blankets?" Kenny asked.

"I'm joking, but you better not have any more wounds than that one," He gestured vaguely to the gash in Kenny's thigh, "I'm cleaning you up and buying a padlock for the front door tomorrow morning."

"Ky, you know how important these patrols are," Kenny said, his defense was desperate and he hoped it showed on his voice.

"I do, thanks for not dying," Kyle said.

"You're mad, aren't you?" Kenny asked.

"Oh I'm absolutely fucking livid, you're lucky Cartman hasn't pulled out yet cause I would have your head mounted on a wall by now if he left," Kyle answered with, voice perfectly even and without a single waver in it.

Kenny gives a nervous laugh, "I just, there was a lead, and Wendy was on a date, and Craig is on vacation."

"Bullshit, and bullshit," Kyle answered with, "But, I'll let it slide tonight."

Kenny pursed his lips, "How much trouble am I in?"

"I'm not your mom, you tell me," Kyle scoffed.

Kenny stayed silent.

"You are in so much fucking trouble," Kyle answered with, "If you want me to leave reservations uncanceled then get your shit together and don't go on patrols for six fucking days- it's not that hard!"

"But I need too! It's, it's," Words dissolved in Kenny's throat, "I need too."

Kyle sighed, "Yeah, I thought so," He steps out of the way, "Put your bloody gear in the sink and wash off the wound."

Kenny hesitantly enters and makes his way upstairs. He tosses his gear in the sink and runs cold water and scrubs until the blood seeps into clear fluid. It stings when soap hits the wound and it feels wrong to be sitting in a fluorescent lit bathroom all by himself cleaning up the wound. Kyle's usually there with him, he feels like he's a teenager all over again, cleaning his wounds in the dead of night and hoping that he didn't wake anyone up.

Kyle knocks on the door frame and Kenny glances up, he looks like a deer stuck in headlights. Kyle tosses him a dry towel, the blood stained one. Kenny dabs away the excess soap on his leg, waiting for someone to speak.

"I still love you," Kyle said quietly.

"I know," Kenny answered with, "But, I gotta die for a bit, can't be avoided."

Kyle slid down the door frame till he was sitting on the floor, opposite so he could face Kenny who was leaned against the sink. He heaved a sigh, "Can you please try and last one week?"

"I will," Kenny said, "I promise that I won't miss our anniversary dinner."

"Thanks," Kyle said quietly, he slid over next to Kenny, "You're terrible at cleaning wounds."

"Well since we got together you usually help out," Kenny answered with as he held out the towel to Kyle.

"I've let you grow soft and weak, how cruel of me," Kyle said with a laugh. He dabbed at the edges of the wound carefully.

Kenny leans himself against Kyle, "Love you."

Kyle gives a hum, "I love you too Ken, I just wish you'd be more careful."

"I'll try," Kenny said quietly.

[beggingwolf]

sidgeno: soulmate AU + erotic dreams

Sid's standing at a river.

He thinks it's a river. It feels half-formed. He can feel the rumble of the water under his feet. If he doesn't move, the flash flood is going to swell to his soles, ankles, knees, and sweep him away.

"Beautiful," he hears. It doesn't sound right. The word twists in his ears, and a large hand wraps around his elbow, pulling him a step back up onto the bank. "Careful."

Sid wakes up with a gasp. Across the room, the little blue S on his wall has fallen to the floor with a crack. It's his last night at home before he ships out to Minnesota. He'd heard his mom crying after Taylor had gone to bed.

Sid reaches up to touch his elbow. He can still feel the ghostly touch, heavy and strong.

Sid stays up for another hour, thinking it over. Replaying the sound of beautiful over and over again, even though that's not how it sounded in the dream.

He closes his eyes. He tries to say goodbye to home. He tries to push off the dream; he doesn't have the time to think about it, not now, not when—

-

"Beautiful," Sid hears. He lets out a shuddering breath. The hands are everywhere. There's a heavy weight between his legs. There's pressure on his stomach, on his chest. A mouth pressing to his neck. He needs to move. He needs to be touched, he—

The pillow hits his face hard.

"Take it to the showers, Croz!" Duncs groans, his bedsprings creaking as he rolls to turn his back on Sid from across the room.

Sid's face grows hot as he fumbles at his blankets. He slips out of bed, feet hitting the linoleum floor with a loud smack, and he grabs the first article of clothing on the ground—a hoodie, fine, that's fine—before making a break for the hall.

The light of the hallway is blinding, and Sid stumbles to the bathrooms to lock himself in a shower stall and breathe.

His boxers are wet.

Sid shudders on his next inhale. It's been... it's been so long since this has happened, but not like this, never with that voice in his ears or the feeling of a body that's bigger than his covering him so completely.

Sid's been looking at his teammates too much lately. He's been thinking about how tall Matty is, how he's got a wicked smile and a stupid laugh that rivals Sid's own.

"Fuck," Sid whispers to himself. It echoes off the yellowing tile.

-

Soulmates, Sid learned early, don't account for everything.

His mother told him that she'd had dreams of the Eastern Shore back at the height of the whaling trade. She'd remembered the scent of blubber burning, how his father's clothes would stink of blood and salt after he'd return from a voyage.

She had older ones, too. Ones of living in a cramped house in an old country with too many mouths to feed, spending her days working in a horrible factory and sneaking away to find a sweetheart in a back alley.

Older than that, even: one of his aunts liked to claim she could remember as far back to before electricity was discovered. His mom fondly told her sister she was full of shit, but Sid always wondered.

Then there was his grandmother, who never talked about soulmates at all. She was happy with Kenny, but Sidney knew Kenny was not his grandfather by blood. His grandmother was tight-lipped about it, even when the family was swapping dream-memories with each other like cards over the dinner table.

"Soulmates can mean a lot of things," Sid's uncle had told him out on the patio later. "Sometimes they're just the person that leaves the most scars on you."

Years later, as Sid tries to keep his eyes to himself in the locker room, he finally understands how his love could leave him with more scars than he could count.

-

It's a gentle touch to his hair. Long fingers playing in the curls. They're too long. They're always too long, it's not presentable, it's not to code, but war is cruel and bloody and Sid's fucking hair is the least of his concerns.

"Morning, beautiful," a low voice rasps to him. The words are tilted like they always are, but Sid understands. He always understands.

He turns, eyes still closed, and reaches out.

Lips connect with his. There's a dusting of pathetic stubble on both of their faces. The dry, cracked lips he's kissing are still the best thing he's ever felt.

"My watch shift's almost over," Sid whispers. His throat is hoarse, because last night he'd—god, he'd taken the whole length down, and it had felt good and powerful and if he died today he'd be okay with it, he thinks. The war has taken so much. At least he had this. "I need to go back."

"Stay," is murmured up against his mouth. The lips move up to press against his forehead, and the hand in his hair tangles in it, pulls him closer, drags him against a strong body, long legs tangling with his own.

He can feel a hardness pressing into his thigh, and he cracks open his eyes.

His head smacks against glass.

"Shit!" Sid snaps, jerking upright as the bus rolls over another curb.

"Sorry, fellas!" the driver calls, and there's an ugly chorus of groans from the Rimouski Oceanic.

"Jesus," Sid grunts, shifting back upright in his seat, yanking his backpack onto his lap. His skull is still rattling from the rude awakening, and he's achingly hard.

It's a small mercy he has the row to himself. He leans back and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the pain radiating from his head, and his hip where that stupid fucking Moosehead had laid into him, and his tweaked wrist from two weeks ago in Chicoutimi. The street lamps they drive under flare his eyelids pink and then black, again and again.

As he slows his breaths, the urgency fades out of his bloodstream. He's not hard up for it anymore. He's just sore.

More than the feeling of a heavy cock pressed against his leg, Sid misses the gangly arms that had been wrapped around him. He'd had to make out with a girl at a house party before they'd left for Halifax. The team had gotten too nosy, their teasing of Sid's prudishness tipping from "hilarious novelty" to "prying questions," and Sid had swallowed his anxiety and used it as fuel to find a girl and pull her into a corner in full view of half of the blue line and press his lips to hers.

It had felt deeply wrong.

He tries to keep his breaths even as he thinks about how right his dream had felt, and how that deep, sleep-weary voice sits in his skull like it belongs there.

-

Sid pulls his goalie pads off. His eye is swollen shut from the puck he took to the face in the second period; it happens once every few months, and it's incentive to be faster. He laughs as the team around him starts cracking open beers. Their captain lights a cigarette and leans back in his stall with a grin. They're on fucking fire, and they're going out on the town tonight.

Sid comes back home drunk. Drunk and happy and dumped unceremoniously on the steps of his Montreal townhome by his teammates, who cheerfully wave at Sid's roommate.

Sid's roommate.

Sid's roommate picks Sid up. Sid's roommate peels off his clothes slowly. Sid's roommate leads him to bed, where he tucks himself into the cave he makes out of Sid's chest.

Sid's roommate, who grinds back against Sid. Sid groans. He can't get it up, not like this, and his roommate laughs, a low noise, and tells him in the morning—in the morning they'll have some fun, he'll reward Sid exactly how he deserves.

Sid wakes up alone.

They've lost the Memorial Cup. He's still in London. He's not playing for the Habs in their glory days. He's not playing for anyone right now. The season is over. Tomorrow he gets to go home. He gets to hope the draft goes on.

He feels very small and lonely in his hotel bed.

-

The night before the draft, Sid dreams about getting fucked.

He's goddamn lucky Jack sleeps harder than the dead. He's goddamn lucky in so many ways, because he feels those big hands push his legs up, his thighs pressing into his stomach. He feels those chapped lips drag against his neck, his chest, his cock. He feels those long hands stretching him open.

He takes every inch. He gets fucked within an inch of his life. He's held down by that powerful body and he's never wanted something this bad, because it's good and right and he wants it more than anything. He's had it before, in another time, and Sid tells himself he'll find it again someday, he has to.

He comes so hard he cries.

Jack's still asleep when Sid wakes up and ducks into the bathroom. He lets the shower rain scalding water down onto him as he wipes the cum off of his hips.

-

Sid plays hockey in Pittsburgh.

He kisses a man for the first time. It's not his soulmate. He can tell; the man's fingers are too stubby, but he has wide shoulders and a smart smile and it feels good.

It leads to him getting his dick sucked. That's good too.

The dreams don't stop. He's in rural Canada. He's in some ancient country that looks foreign. He's in a busy city center that looks nothing like anywhere Sid has ever been.

He's always wrapped in those long arms, holding those delicate-looking, strong hands.

It's his second season, the morning after another dream—a bad one, where Sid had been old and arthritic and holding a cold hand in his—when Mario looks up from the morning newspaper and tells Sid Malkin will finally be getting in from Los Angeles that evening.

"It's been long enough, he should be out of his contract by the time camp starts," Mario says. "We'll have him over for dinner tonight, I think."

Sid doesn't dress up, but he does put on jeans and combs his hair in the bathroom before Malkin and his translator arrive. He should look presentable, he figures. They want to make him captain. He should make a good impression, especially after all that Malkin's been through.

The doorbell rings, and Sid hustles down the three flights of stairs to get to the foyer.

Malkin's big. Lanky, really, and golden from the California sun. He looks tired but happy, and he's staring at Mario with big eyes and a bigger grin, his chapped lips stretched wide. Sid knows the feeling well.

Malkin turns his gaze to Sid, and something wobbles in Sid's chest.

"Evgeni Malkin," he says, offering a handshake to Sid.

His palm is huge. His fingers are long and handsome.

Sid swallows and takes his hand.

[dear-wormwoods]

you said in one of your posts that kyman is one-sided. may i ask how exactly? from kyle's side? most of the fandom portrays it as one-sided from cartman's side which doesn't make much sense…

This message is super old so I'm sorry if you're long gone, anon! The nice thing about SP is that there's really no wrong way to interpret the show in terms of what could happen in the future. Everything is up in the air and feelings can change a lot between ages 10 and 15 or 20 etc. But here's why I personally see it as one-sided from Cartman's side, not Kyle's:

The two moments I'm thinking of that some people might use as evidence that Kyle has feelings for Cartman are when he puts Cartman to bed in Jewpacabra and when he is shown crying over a picture of Cartman while all the other boys are getting dumped at the end of Skank Hunt. I can see why the juxtaposition in that second example might be seen as evidence, because, well, Kyle is literally crying over Cartman while everyone else is crying over their girlfriends... and I think people are welcome to interpret it that way! But I think Kyle was just feeling immense guilt over what they did to Cartman, and while everyone else is preoccupied with their breakups, he's able to focus on what really matters because he's single. As for the first example, I don't see it as evidence that Kyle likes Cartman, even as a person let alone as a crush. I see it as evidence that Kyle is inherently good and willing to put his own negative feelings aside to make sure another human being is safe. He would have done the same for anyone else, it's just that Cartman is the only one who would actually put himself in that situation.

Kyle is an idealist, and he wants to believe that everyone is good deep down. This includes Cartman. He hates Cartman but he keeps hanging out with him because he thinks that there is hope for Cartman, and that he can help him or fix him somehow. He needs to believe that everyone has the potential to be good, otherwise his entire worldview would have to be brought into question. That's why he gives Cartman chance after chance after chance. That's why he can't just shrug off Cartman's shit the way Stan can, or Kenny (most of the time). That's why he can't let it go when Cartman does shitty things. It's also why he's, in general, so easily manipulated by Cartman. He wants to hold Cartman to a higher standard and genuinely wants Cartman to meet that standard, and that's why he's so angry and hurt when Cartman fails time and time again to do that.

I also think Kyle feels beholden somehow, like it's his duty to put up with Cartman's shit so other people don't have to. I think that's part of why he gets so preoccupied with 'saving' Heidi... it's not that he actually has a crush on her, it's that she's acting as Cartman's emotional punching bag and he feels like that's his role. I'm not saying he was jealous of Heidi or thinks of himself as Cartman's significant other... Kyle is just a martyr and willing to put himself in Cartman's way time and time again. With Heidi getting the brunt of Cartman's mistreatment, Kyle was feeling purposeless.

So I think Kyle's feelings for Cartman are complicated, but not affectionate. I think, however, that he could easily misunderstand his own feelings and end up in some kind of relationship with Cartman. Especially if, as with Heidi, someone on the outside was like "you must like Cartman because of x y and z". Then Kyle, who feels things very deeply but kind of sucks at affect identification and regulation, might actually listen and then reframe his entire approach to Cartman around this new "information". That's really the only way I can see Kyman happening from Kyle's side of things - Kyle coming to the conclusion that having faith in Cartman must mean he likes him, and then resigning himself to that fate. I think he absolutely does have strong feelings for Cartman, they just aren't romantic and probably won't go in that direction unless Cartman puts a lot of effort into manipulating things accordingly.

As for Cartman... I think that's also totally up to interpretation, but in my opinion it's easier to read Cartman's preoccupation with Kyle as a "crush" than it is the other way around. I put crush in quotation marks because I don't really know if Cartman is capable of having one in a traditional sense... his idea of "love" is one person being in control and the other being subservient. It's the kind of relationship he has cultivated with his mother, though she's been getting better at asserting herself, and it's the kind of relationship he wanted to have with Heidi. He feels entitled to people's time and energy and feels a sense of ownership over certain people in his life. He wants authority and sees others as either property (what he would call "love") or tools to further his own self image (in general, his "friendships"). I want to explain that first because I agree with you that Cartman having romantic feelings, the way most people would feel them, doesn't make sense. However, I do think his obsession with Kyle will eventually turn into what HE would consider romantic.

I think Cartman is/would be interested in Kyle mostly because Kyle poses a challenge for him. Kyle is headstrong and morally secure, and he also has a solid support system in his mom, Ike, and (until recently) Stan. He's easily manipulated and gullible, but he bounces back easily so no matter what tactics Cartman uses on him, any influence he has over Kyle is temporary. With Kyle, Cartman would never run into the issue he had with Heidi, where he eventually pushed her so hard and isolated and manipulated her so much that he turned her into his clone. That's one reason why he wants Kyle around, he basically says as much in Smug Alert - Kyle is interesting and fun because he reacts to Cartman's bullshit but doesn't give into it. Cartman could chase him forever and never get bored of it, and that's why he's the ideal recipient of Cartman's "love".

Cartman's obsession with Kyle involves those aforementioned ideas of domination and ownership. Cartoon Wars showed that they're evenly matched when it comes to physical fighting, which is all well and good for Cartman but what he really wants is to use domination to humiliate Kyle. He took full advantage of Kyle's vulnerability in Ginger Cow and he was obsessed with getting Kyle to fulfill his side of their bet in Imaginationland because it involved humiliation and showing off his control/authority over the situation. He wanted everyone to see Kyle submit to him. Despite being a sexual act, at least in Imaginationland, Cartman isn't motivated by sex yet. However, I do think that as he gets older, his need to humiliate Kyle will become more and more of a sexual preoccupation that he'll interpret as romantic because he doesn't understand the difference. And once he identifies his feelings for Kyle as "love", he won't stop until he gets what he feels he's owed.

So in general, I don't think Cartman will ever be truly in love with Kyle (unless something about his current character trajectory drastically changes), but I do think he will think he is and pursue him in his own way. Maybe he could eventually wear Kyle down, maybe not... that mostly depends on what Kyle's support system looks like in the future. But no matter what it's not healthy.

Maybe that explanation helped? My thoughts on Kyman are complicated, I'm sorry. And I'm not trying to step on anyone's toes here either, these are just my own thoughts!

[wearevillaneve]

Hi! Recently I've been analyzing the scene where Eve puts the heart against her ear, listening to Villanelle's voice in s3 ep3, and would love to hear your take on it as well since I love to read your Tumblr posts. Do you think it was the first time Eve actually gave in to the feeling or just the first time the audience got to see it?

Suzanne Heathcote’s approach to Killing Eve was very much “tell-don’t-show,” so it was not a shock that the impression the viewers were left with was this was the first time Eve was actually owning up to how intense her feelings for Villanelle were. Except it wasn’t.   Not even close.   We got that moment back in Season 2 with “Wide Awake” where over a few short minutes Eve is as honest and revealing with the psychologist Martin as she has been with anyone in the entire show. 

Eve never tells Martin she’s in love with Villanelle. She hasn't even told Villanelle, but it hardly matters.  She is in love with this woman, and she can’t stop thinking about her.   It could not be more obvious. This is a good thing, because under Heathcote’s tender mercies, Eve is just kinda doing stuff to be doing it.   The rhyme or reason of it doesn’t matter anymore.   It’s only important for her to go dumpster diving for cake boxes and running around Scotland stomping old ladies to death.  Motivations be damned and pretty much all Eve's previous character development as well. In Season 3, Eve never acknowledges out loud how deep under her skin Villanelle has gotten until they are on the bridge where she says she can’t envision a future without her in it.   That’s good,  but coming off of everything that came after the Rome fiasco, where is this coming from, Eve?    Are you just so weary of the pointless snipe hunt that was the “Who Killed Kenny?” story arc or how your personality turned on a damn dime from obsessing over getting back with your husband to obsessing over getting back with your girlfriend? It would be a revelation for someone to ask Sandra Oh, “At what point in Season 3 does Eve fall back in love/lust with Villanelle, and better yet, WHY does she?”

“Admit it, Eve.  You wish I was here.”   It’s a great scene.  No lie.  At first Eve’s flustered and then frustrated and a little pissed by that familiar voice coming out of that goofy toy.  Then as she tears the heart out of it, she-can’t-stop-listening-to-it.   Eve's loneliness is matched by her longing for Villanelle. Obsession truly doesn't die even when the objects of obsession keep trying to murder one another.  

What the talking bear doesn’t say is, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”   Villanelle needs to maintain some distance between her true feelings for Eve and her pride and the admission that she misses Eve would be showing weakness.  A swaggering Roman centurion-turned Emperor in a oversized grey suit facing off on a double-decker bus with an old foe who once hurt “him” greatly cannot be so vulnerable and soft (and what the fuck was up with that Roman centurion/smells like power bullshit, anyway?). Villanelle was weird that whole episode.   The opening kills with the Infinity Tuning Fork was weird.  Baby-snatching the baby in order to play with it, right up until the kid starts crying or pooping, then the fun’s over, and she cackles with malicious glee when Dasha drops the little shitbird in the trash.   Struts around London to select a new customized perfume, buy and customize a toy for Eve, break into Eve’s dump of an apartment, follow her to the bus, change clothes and bust a cap in The Twelve’s accountant while scaring the hell out of Carolyn and Mo, finally returning to a hotel for a shower and a little telly before calling it a night as she and Eve nurse their matching bruises. That’s a pretty full and totally weird day for Villanelle.  In the meantime, Eve gets a restless night tossing and turning all night as she keeps replaying V’s message until the battery dies or she climaxes.  Whatever comes first.

Yeah, @dayyneee, I love the scene as much as you do as it comes in my favorite episode of my least favorite season.  What bugs me most about it is it has really no effect on the following episodes.  Eve never mentions it again and Villanelle doesn’t even ask if she liked it.  Uh--why is that, Killing Eve writers?   Seemed like you went out of the way to make a point of the stuffed bear’s heart being a mighty big thing at the time, but after that it swirls down the memory hole never to be referenced again?  What’s up with that? Eve could have referred to the talking heart which would have given Villanelle a chance to ask how she liked her birthday cake and the postcard from Amsterdam intercepted by Carolyn in Season 2.   Some might dismiss this as “fan service,” but I call it tying up loose threads that like so many other things on Killing Eve happen and are never heard from again. If Laura Neal is doing a rewatch of the show, she’s filling up a pad with notes of things that need tidying up before the curtain comes down.   What about “the heart?” is not the least of them. 

[kaypeace21]

ignoring the fact that they sound like a married couple arguing, mike and will are also bickering over whether or not el and mike are still together. it was written in the script, rehearsed, performed, and kept in the final cut that will OUTRIGHT SAYS “she said she dumped your ass, that doesn’t sound like a break.” and max yells “it wasn’t!” :@;$:@/&$:&:??!?! they literally said they’re not endgame. they aren’t endgame.

i KNOW right! Based on the s4 movies I think things are reversed and it’s El who can’t accept they are broken up. A lot of films said to inspire s4 have ex gfs refuse to accept the break up -one even hits on her gay ex-bf ( ‘birdcage’ ). Similar scenario in ‘clueless’ with girl hinting on gay guy who just wants to be friends.  Max in s3 having to correct El that Mike is her “ ex boyfriend” and Will saying “that doesn’t sound like a break”. And Max agreeing “it wasn’t!” is foreshadowing they never actually got back together.  IT WASN’T A BREAK! But El may not accept this.

It’s similar, to the random telemarketing joke where they had Mike say on the phone “El, sorry not interested “ and hang up . It was foreshadowing.

In the films the exes constantly call . Mike telling El “i’ll call so often you’ll have to turn your walkie off” was also foreshadowing of what Mike will do to her in s4. Since ,he hung up on her in s3 when she called demanding to know where he was at 9:30 in the morning.  In  ‘swingers’ the guy name mike (whose friends call him ‘gay’)  hangs up on his ex gf who wants to get back together . He hangs up on her so he can talk to his new love interest (Will) . Specifically, Hangs up on his ex as she says  “I love-“. Then in ‘splash’ he breaks up with his gf on the phone and says “do I love you?well what about you?” To dodge the question (then yells at a family member ease dropping on the other line -Karen). And they break up on the phone. And he tells a friend later he never loved her. 

2 movies the ex says they’ll get back together and their new relationships are “just phases” etc ( waynes world,  high fidelity, dumb and dumber). Saying they’re still together when they aren’t  (wayne’s world). Loads of movies had the crazy ex sabotage new relationships, call constantly, stalk, and flirt despite the exes discomfort and repeatedly saying it’s over (despite the ex not loving them and just be possessive and not wanting them with other people).

The exes are cray in the films (el stalking and never apologizing for spying. And mileven dancing to the song ‘every breath you take’ a song about a stalker ex who doesn’t take no for an answer -after their ex hooks up with their friend, wasn’t a coincidence). Along with El watching ‘days of our lives’ where she mimicked erica who was in a relationship with Mike roy. And it ended messy with one of them sabotaging their new relationship, stalking them, and claiming the stalking victim still loved them. (Although, they eventually accepted that wasn’t true).  

El  stalked Mike in s2 (all that stuff milevens found romantic- El watching him without him knowing. Mike said he was not ok with it in s3). And in s3 (like the song) she stalks him after their breakup, and when he said not to do that she just says ‘i make my own rules’. I think s4 shows just how ‘un-cute’ this behavior can get.

 I’ve already talked about that awkward kiss scene to death. But i think it indicates Mike assumes they’re broken up and el assumes they’re back together. 

FIrst he  LIED AGAIN (the cause of the breakup)- and pretended he didn’t confess to her at the end of s3. And never said “ I love you’ back! He even tries to take the words back and  says about the prior love confession “ “Oh! Oh, yeah that.Man, that was so long ago. Um…”  and starts to scratch his head and says everything he said at the cabin was “in the heat of the moment stuff and we were arguing…”

They even frame the scene right before the kiss strangely, making El look larger and imposing, as she approaches. Mike feels cornered (you the viewer subconsciously are supposed to feel claustraphobic/trapped/cornered/stuck along with Mike).

We see him furrow his brows (uncomfortable and confused ) when El initiates the romantic moment, saying “I love you too.”

 And cue most awkward kiss in history- where he keeps his eyes open the whole time and doesn’t kiss back. (In Will’s room, mike in front of an open closet, as el holds Will’s s1 bear.)

 During the kiss, the song ‘the first i love you ‘played. The only other time they played that song in s3,  was when Robin rejects Steve’s  romantic confession and she comes out as gay . Interesting choice for that awkward mileven kiss/confession shown later where El says she loves Mike (and mike keeps his eyes open, doesn’t kiss back or return the ‘I love you’). It’s foreshadowing of Mike rejecting El (in the future) cause he’s gay.

We even see El’s reaction first (happy, smiling and giddy). Assuming they’re back together. But then we blur the screen to see Mike’s opposing expression. He looks confused, bewildered and even furrows his brows again.

Then we see El initiating all the romantic stuff outside.El seems to be the one trying to make it romantic- like Mike hugging el and lucas with one arm identically (hand on their upper back), but El caresses his chest.

And as Mike stops the hug El shoves his head into hers (it actually looked like it hurt honestly XD)

the byler centric ending with the Hopper monologue reinforces this theme. Mike while looking at both cars driving away was thinking of Will . They show this by having Mike be sad as Will drives away (alone) twice as Mike  sadly watches him leave- this was done to show that he’s actually upset the 2 later times where Will and El leave at the same time -because of Will. I showed it in one of my vids here, at 23:11

When we first see Mike during the Hopper monologue , it continues to pan to only Mike and Will (not El) cause what he says is mostly about them. “I’ve been feeling distant from you. Like you’re pulling away from me or something” (Will does this both figuratively/literally). I miss playing board games every night (d &d)”. Then Mike looks back at the Byers house (he just lingers there and looks back as his friends leave without him) like how Will turned to watch Mike leave and hold hands with El  (as the crew  go up the hill without Will).  “But I know you’re getting older, growing, changing. And I guess, if I’m being really honest, that’s what scares me. I don’t want things to change.”

It pans to both of them on  “i don’t want things to change’ cause that’s how they both feel. Mike , ‘doesn’t want things things to change’. He doesn’t want their friendship to change as they ‘get older’ because he’d have to and acknowledge his feelings for Will are romantic and if he’s “being honest” that “scares” him (especially in rural 80s conservative-Indiana at the height of the aids epidemic).  Why we see Mike trying to act like a adult while dating El, and Will trying to act like a kid- they’re both trying to escape  growing up to be gay in different ways. Will reverting to childhood activities and saying he’ll ‘never fall in love’ (after his double date with lumax). And Mike trying to act like “old people’ saying “we’re not kids anymore... what did you expect that we’d never get girlfriends?” Cause he equates straight romance with being an adult and his feelings for Will as something he has to grow out of . Which he learns in the very end isn’t possible.

Right after that scene it switches from Will crying,  to Mike entering his house. His face is visibly red from crying and he looks shocked (almost as if he realized something) before he hugs his mom- to mirror the time he thought Will died in s1. 

And the dialogue in this scene says “So I think maybe that’s why I came in here, to try and maybe stop that change. To turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were.” He goes back to his mother for comfort, like he did the 1st time he lost Will. But also to reverse back time, to s1, before he realized his feelings for Will are romantic.  When things were simple. I think the last episode is when Mike truly realizes he’s been in love with Will this entire time and he can’t fix it and transfer his feelings for Will on to el (something he’s been trying to do all of s3). El said he loved him and he felt nothing-and he was heartbroken over Will leaving (not El). Which is why he just seems almost shocked/numb as he’s processing this fact. This whole scene only showed Mike and Will transitions- el was never there, cause Mike wasn’t upset over her.

In the last ep (in s3) Mike mirrors the scene in s1, hugging his mom, since he feels like he’s losing Will all over again. In s1 the romantic/queer coded lyric from the song ‘We can be heroes’ plays as he hugs his mom “And we kiss as though nothing could fall. And the shame.”. And during the s3 move  (‘we can be heroes’) plays again!  And David Bowie wrote this song and Jonathan even said to Will  in his ‘being a freak is the best speech’ “who would you rather be friends with David bowie (a queer singer) or Kenny Roggers?”

It’s why finn wolfhard after s3 liked this byler pic. cause s3 was all about Will and Mike denying their feelings for each other.

Not to mention,After s1 Finn quoted the  Duffers saying Mike thought of El as a “puppy’ (dart) or “et” , and then said  Mileven was a  “first summer love thing”- foreshadowing mileven’s downfall during the Summer (aka s3). He repeats this “first summer love” phrase 2x.  Millie when he mentioned what the duffers said rightfully thought the puppy thing was “awful”, but Finn was clearly told mileven doesn’t last -very early on- and most likely the Duffers told him “it’s like a first summer love thing”.Summer love” by definition fails-as it only lasts during the summer.

[amylillian22]

My Best Friend - Part 2 - Chris Evans Imagine

Word Count: 1,967

Warnings: Talks of nude photos

Author's Note: Y'all wanted and asked for a part 2. Please be gentle with me. I must have came up with something and deleted every draft at least 4 times before I settled with this draft. I'm still iffy about it, but let me know what you think!

Chris push his key in Y/N apartment in the lock and unlocked it. Normally he would let her know when he was coming over, but he hadn't heard from her all day. She wasn't answering his phone calls or text messages. Naturally, he was worried and wanted to see if she was okay.

"Okay! I'm here! What's wrong?" Chris shouted as he closed the front door with his foot. He had a case of Y/N favorite's alcoholic drink and her favorite pint of ice cream in the other. He wasn't sure how bad whatever she was going through was, but he made sure to bring two of her favorites to choose from.

"Chris?" Y/N shouted back. She was in the living room. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, you didn't answer me all day," he said as he walked down the hallway and when he turned to go into the living room, he saw a guy he had never seen before on the couch with Y/N. "I figured something was wrong..." he trailed.

"Whoa!" The guy shot up from the sofa. "You're Captain America, bro!"

"Alright, Kenny, it's time to go," Y/N started guiding him towards the door.

"But, he just got here and I wanna hang out with him," Kenny protested. "Why didn't you tell me you were friends with him?! I could have been friends with him this whole time!"

"That's exactly why I didn't tell you," Y/N said. "Goodbye, Kenny."

"Wait!" He shouted, but Y/N had already closed the door on him. She let out a frustrated groan.

Chris stood at the end of the hallway and saw Y/N leaning against the door with her eyes closed. He cleared his throat, causing her to open her eyes. For a split second, she forgot he was there. She walked towards him and noticed the items in his hands. She grabbed the pint of ice cream and made her way to the small kitchen to grab two spoons. Chris put the drinks in the refrigerator. She grabbed his hand and led him to her bedroom. They made themselves comfortable and leaned against the headboard. She opened the pint of ice cream and gave him a spoon.

"So, who was that?" Chris asked. He had an inkling feeling of who it could have been. Since she admitted to it, Chris hadn't let go of the idea that she had been sending out nudes to some guy. Truth is he didn't know all the facts. He didn't know if there was just one guy or a couple. However, this guy admitted he had known Y/N for a while, and he couldn't help but wonder exactly how long.

She swallowed her spoonful and gave him the pint, letting him get his turn with the ice cream. "Kenny and he came here because I dumped him."

Chris paused before putting his spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. He bit his lip, trying to take in this new information she had given him. He didn't want to say anything just yet. Not until he got the full details.

"Elaborate," was all he said.

Y/N moved her spoon around the pint of ice cream, stalling. She blew her lips, letting out a raspberry sound. "Kenny is someone I matched with on Tinder..."

"Oh," Chris mumbled. He stole another spoonful of ice cream, knowing he needed all the extra comfort he could get.

"About two years ago," she finished.

"Two years?!" Chris yelped, causing him to cough as he swallowed the ice cream wrong. He cleared his throat several times after he stopped. He hadn't even noticed Y/N had left and came back with a water bottle for him. He gladly took it, feeling a relief as the cool water went down his throat.

She crossed her legs as she sat in front of him. "I'm sorry." He didn't say anything. He was hurt about all of this. Not only was he jealous of Kenny, but she hid a relationship from him. She knew she hurt him looking into his hurt blue eyes. "Truthfully, he wasn't worth talking about. He and I literally had a friends with benefits thing going on, except we focused more on the benefits and weren't exactly friends."

"Okay, I think I'm done hearing about this," he began to move, ready to leave her bed, but she stopped him. He looked down at the hand on his forearm before he looked up and saw the tears welling in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I lied and kept him for you. He honestly doesn't mean anything to me. He never has and he never will. I broke up with him because I couldn't do it anymore," she sniffles. "I told myself I would never tell you, but I have to you."

Y/N wasn't talking about Kenny anymore and Chris knew it. He just didn't know exactly what else she had been hiding from him.

"I broke up with him because I can't kept lying to myself. I've been in love with someone else for as long as I can remember. I only used Kenny as a distraction, even though it never really worked. In the end, I only ended up hurting myself more. And, I hope I wasn't hurting this other guy either."

"No," Chris shook his head and got out her bed. "I don't want to hear anymore. I thought I wanted to know, but knowing now, I didn't need to know about Kenny. And, I certainly don't want to know about this other guy you've been in love with all these years!" He started pacing back and forth. "How could you keep something like this from me? I never hid anything from you! But now you're telling me you've been in love with someone else ... for years?!" It was no doubt the neighbors heard Chris raising his voice after each sentence. He was furious. He stood there, panting in rage, and his hands balled up in tight fists.

"Why didn't you tell me?" This time his voice wasn't angry. He sounded so betrayed and hurt.

"Because I was afraid it would ruin our friendship! I'm more scared to lose you as my best friend, Chris." Tears slowly made their way down her cheeks. Her hand shook as she wiped away her own tears, completely terrified how he would respond.

His jaw dropped realizing she was talking about him.

"Also, I never said anything because I knew you never felt that way about me." Chris just stood there in complete shock. "Now, I'm definitely wishing I hadn't told you. I should have never said anything. Just forget it."

She turned on her heel, ready to escape her own room and leave the apartment. She felt completely embarrassed. Chris grabbed her elbow and spun her around before she could reach her bedroom door.

"I- You-," he was at a loss of words, but he knew he couldn't let her walk out after confessing her feelings. "Give me a minute."

She shook her head. "It's okay, Chris. I know you don't feel that way about me. Just don't let this ruin our friendship, okay? Please."

"No, no, no," he repeated. "I feel the same way about you."

"No, you don't," she said.

His eyes narrowed at her. "You don't know how I feel."

"Chris, I'm not stupid. You've been seeing someone-"

"So, have you!" He snapped.

"Not in the same way as you have been!" She snapped back.

Chris sighed. "Look, I'll admit, I never had feelings for you-" her eyes welled up at his words. "But," he emphasized, "ever since you told me about your nudes, I haven't stopped thinking about you, in a non-best friend way."

She furrowed her eyebrows, completely confused. She didn't know exactly what he meant. Did he only think about what she looked like naked? Or was he thinking about what it would be like to date her and kiss her, have a relationship with?

He grabbed her hand and led her to her bed. They sat on the edge of her bed, still holding on to her hand. She looked down at their hands as Chris slowly intertwined his fingers with hers. Her heart skipped a beat at the small action.

"When I found out you had been sending out your own nudes, I felt jealous. Not that someone was seeing you naked, but jealous at the fact that you had some other guy in your life besides me. Although it was just sex, you still had some form of a relationship with someone else for two years and that really bugs because I'm jealous," he confessed.

"Chris, as much as I'm in love with you, I wish you hadn't said that," she spoke softly and carefully.

"What? I thought you'd be happy," he said, removing his hand from hers. His heart sank and he had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach as he looked into her sad, and broken eyes.

"Because I don't want to you lose you , especially as my best friend," she repeated.

"You-"

"I'm going to be brutally honest with you. You're scared of commitment. It's no secret that you are. What if we give this a try and you freak out? Or what if it doesn't actually work out for whatever reason? As much as I know I would love to have you as something more, I know I would grieve more of the loss of having you as my best friend," she admitted.

Chris stared at her as she spoke. He completely knew where she was coming from and he didn't blame her. He has always been scared of commitment, which is why the women he had been involved with the past never worked out. However, none of those ladies were Y/N. Other than his family, she's the only person Chris has known for so many years and made sure she was always in it. Now, he was damn sure he would never live his life without her.

"Chris," she whispered. "Say something."

He decided to say something bold, very bold. He cupped her cheeks and pulled her in, his lips immediately capturing hers. Y/N was taken back, completely caught off guard, but she eventually moved her lips along with his.

His lips were so soft and gentle against hers. He had to be careful. It was obvious as much as she loved him, she didn't want something more out of fear. That's what stopped her from admitting her feelings to him in the past. But, he couldn't get enough of her soft strawberry lips. He kissed her deeply, with so much passion. His lips had released butterflies in her stomach, making her toes curl at the wonderful sensation.

As much as he wanted to continue kissing her, he pulled back a little bit. His lips brushed against hers, their warm breaths fanning against their lips. Y/N licked her lips before she bit her bottom lip. Chris' forehead was pressed against hers. He cupped her cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing against her cheekbone.

"You still haven't said anything," she whispered.

Chris chuckled, his lips forming a wide smile. "Y/N, I'm in love with my best friend and I have never been more sure of anything in life. You have always been a part of my life and I wouldn't want it any other way."

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears of joy. She leaned and kissed him. "I love you, too, Chris."

[soopysoap]

OK OK OK so gregstophe is definitely one of my favorite sp ships, i just love the characters and my version of their dynamic and UGH its just too good

I had a bunch of random thoughts abt them and i’m putting them under the cut bc its a lot

- ok so i would first like to talk about how little trust gregory has in others. he always thinks that he’s the best and that he’s better than everyone. usually he steps up to volunteer himself as a leader for a cause that he believes in. even though stan stepped up to be the leader of la resistance, gregory quickly replaced him. when stan was like “i wanna save terrence and phillip” gregory told him that he was likely to fail, and should send someone more experienced (gregory) to save them. when stan supposedly failed, gregory was all “i shouldnt have sent a boy to do a man’s job 😩” so its pretty obvious that gregory usually doesn’t trust people with important jobs. but the FACT THAT GREGORY WAS SO QUICK TO TELL THEM ABOUT THE MOLE????? they must have gone through some shit together to make gregory trust him that much. there was no hesitation. he was just like “fine you can go but you gotta take the mole with you” listen the only person gregory seems to trust as much as himself is the mole and i just think its neat

- PLUS in that cut scene? to my recollection as soon as gregory like- mentions the mole, christophe kinda just pops up next to him. this isn't important i just think it’s cute.

- i just think their trust in each other is adorable ok,, listen. christophe hates god or something. he’s pissed at his mom. he doesn’t like a lot of people. BUT HE’S STILL FRIENDS WITH GREGORY!!!!! AND GREGORY STILL TRUSTS THE MOLE DESPITE HIS SUPERIORITY COMPLEX!!!

ok now i’m gonna dump a bunch of headcanons here bc yeah

- i was thinking about how gregory must have reacted to the mole dying- like when he found out. he goes back to his dead body and is all :’( because his most trusted is dead. when kenny’s wish is granted, gregory doesn’t realize that it means the mole is now alive. he’s still sad, and after the war is over he goes back to where the mole died to get his body. but!! the body is gone and gregorys like ????? bc he already saw his body he’s dead he has to be dead and then christophe kinda taps his shoulder and is like “sup?” and gregory just cries out of pure happiness that his best friend isnt dead and hugs him and calls him an idiot for dying and christophe just kinda laughs and hugs him back and is glad that someone actually cares about him. and so they both kinda just stand there hugging and crying because fuck, they’re both alive they both survived this. it was a close call but they fucking did it.

- ok now that i got all THAT out of my system i just wanna say that they both probably trust each others opinions over their own at this point

- they still do missions together and work undercover together because its something theyre both really good at and love doing together

- “with all due respect mole, i do believe that this route is the better and faster option.” “yeah well with all due respect, if we dug under the base we have a higher chance of survival” “very well but with all due respect, i do believe that this route could get us in and out faster” “okay sure but with all due respect-”

- “greg” “chris” “you punk ass bi-”

- at some point they get into an argument and are still told to work together, but this time its a pretty bad argument. they both decide that they dont need each other at all, and that they each do better alone. during the mission together, they each slowly realize that they really do need each other, and would be dead without the other. they apologize to each other at the end of the mission.

- they confess to each other about their feelings for the other right before a really really serious and important mission, it’s the first time that they wont be together during the mission in a long time and the last time it happened 🥴 dumbass mole had to go die. this was said to be a really important and deadly mission with a low chance of survival. knowing this may be the last time they see each other, gregory tells christophe how he truly feels and christophe says he feels the same way. they hug for what they hope is not the last time, and go their separate ways. once they both get back, very alive and well, they hug n’ stuff and are super happy that they didn’t fail the mission and that they feel the same way towards each other.

- they trust each other with their lives, basically. idk how else to say it

anyway, i love them so much

[rainy-day-gracie]

Old Friends 4

Spencer Reid x reader

This chapter includes more of Reader’s backstory, I included a brother, but if you don’t have a brother... just do whatever you want. More fluff!!

Enjoy :)

Chapter 5 has been posted!!

Chapter 4:

“C’mon, smarty pants! We can do it!” I was practically yelling in between pants and heaves. “So close!”

“I hate you so much,” I heard him wheeze. 

I was the only one in the world that could convince Spencer to go on a jog through the city, and I think he was regretting that decision severely. “Do it for donuts!” 

When we finally reached our end destination, he practically collapsed onto a nearby bench, his chest heaving up and down. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I asked with a smile. “We’re close to the cafe and the subway, so we won’t even have to walk that far.”

“For the record, it definitely was that bad, YFN. Don’t try and sugar coat it.” 

I grabbed his wrist and pulled him off the bench. “We need carbs, right now. Carbs covered in chocolate and sprinkles, let’s go.” 

He groaned and followed me into the cafe. “Where will we get changed into work clothes?” 

“They have bathrooms at the BAU. Stop whining-“ I stopped talking as soon as I saw who was in front of me. 

Morgan looked just as surprised to see us, sweaty, tired, and together, at 7:30 in the morning. His surprised look quickly changed into an amused one, and Morgan started chuckling. “Well, hello, lovebirds.” 

“Hello, Morgan,” I said, feeling like I was caught. But we weren’t, right? We’re not dating, and all we did was go for a jog together. “Um, good morning.” 

I could feel Spencer’s nervous energy rolling off of him. “Hey, Morgan.” 

Morgan gave one last chuckle, and left the cafe without another word. Through the window I could see him pulling out his phone. There was nothing we could do about it now. 

It was only our luck. I chuckled slightly at the thought, and turned to the cashier. “Four chocolate covered donuts with sprinkles, an unsweetened iced tea, and a large coffee with lots of milk and sugar please.”

---

I sat at my desk, trying not to laugh at how Spencer winced every time he had to move his legs. Morgan kept looking over at us and chuckling. 

I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t a big deal. No matter what happens, we’re still old friends. We aren’t dating, and a jog in the early morning together isn’t exactly romantic. 

During our lunch break, JJ came up to me. “Why is Morgan giggling like a four year old?” 

“Well, Spencer and I went on a jog together this morning. We went to a cafe after and Morgan was there also.” I explained in a low voice. “He’s now convinced we were on some kind of date, which we weren’t.” 

JJ looked dumbfounded. “Spence must care about you more than we thought. No one’s ever been able to get him to go on a jog before.” 

I laughed. “Well, I think he now hates me for it so-“ 

“Hello, wonderful people!” Garcia called from the railing. “We have a case!”

---

“First victim, Bethany Conlin, was found beaten to death just outside of a small town, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Pagosa Springs?”

Garcia looked confused. “Yeah, What is it?”

“Oh um, nothing, it’s just my hometown.” Not much of a home anymore. 

“Oh cool! Anyways, a second victim, Cassie Holloway, was found by some hikers by a commonly traveled trail in the woods. Also beaten to death.”

I tried to keep tears out of my eyes. Cassie? 

The team quickly talked over theories for a profile. The only thing I heard was, “Wheels up in 30.”

Before we left, Spencer and Morgan both pulled me aside. 

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked quietly. 

“You could barely keep it together in there.” Morgan added. 

I took a deep breath. “Cassie... She was my best friend until I moved away. She was the sweetest...” I squeezed my eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. “And she was murdered.”

They were both silent. 

I opened my eyes, anger replacing my sadness. “Let’s catch this son of a bitch.”

---

Hotch gave assignments on the jet. “Rossi, Reid, YLN, go to the ME to find out what you can about the bodies. Morgan, JJ, you guys go to the dump sites. Prentiss and I will interview the families.”

“Actually, Hotch,” I interjected. “Could I possibly interview the families? Um... Cassie Holloway was my good friend, and I’m from Pagosa Springs.” I looked down at the file in my lap. Cassie’s file.

Hotch considered it. “That would be alright. They might share more with you if they already know you. And YLN?”

“Yes?” 

“I’m sorry for your friend.”

---

Cassie’s parents looked exactly the same as they did when we were 10. Her mom had dark red hair, and her dad was bald. I used to think they looked scary, but now they just looked sad. 

I cleared my throat when I walked into the room. “Um, Mr. and Mrs. Holloway? I don’t know if you remember me but-“

Her mother gasped. “YFN? Is that you?”

I gave a small smile. “Yes, I’m here to catch Cassie’s killer. Um, have you seen her recently?”

Her father sniffled. “We saw her two days ago. We had dinner together, and... she was fine.” He erupted into a fit of tears. 

It hurt me in my chest to see this kind man that had practically raised me until I was twelve so broken up like this. “Did she mention anyone that had bothered her? Or someone she might’ve rejected? I know she’s a local bartender, maybe someone there?”

Her mother shook her head, rubbing her husband’s back. “You know Cassie... everyone loved her.” 

It was true. Cassie was one of the kindest souls I’ve ever come across. “One last question... does she know Bethany Conlin?”

Both of her parents looked at each other, then back at me. “Yes,” her mother breathed. “They were sorority sisters together in college.”

---

“Hotch!” I called across the station. “Bethany and Cassie were sorority sisters in college. They both went to Colorado State, they hadn’t spoken in a couple years, but it couldn’t be a coincidence that they both ended up dead in a week's period.” 

“This makes it highly likely that whoever is doing this went to college with them.” Hotch pulled out his phone. 

“What do you need, bossman?” Garcia called over speakerphone. 

“Garcia, Bethany and Cassie were sorority sisters in college. Can you find any incidents with the two of them that stand out or could be a motive?” I didn’t realize how fast my heart was beating until I stopped talking. 

“Hmmm... nothing jumps out, but I’m going to investigate further! Goodbye, my lovelies!” 

As soon as we hung up, the local sheriff approached us. “We just got an anonymous tip saying a third body would be found in an old abandoned bar on the edge of town,” the sheriff paused, and looked at me. “The caller said you had to be the one to find it first. Otherwise, and I quote, ‘there will be more than beaten bones next time’.”

I took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

---

The abandoned bar smelled like stale beer and mildew. I felt an odd chill when I entered the door, Hotch and Emily waiting outside. 

Pulling out a flashlight, the eerie bar creaked with every step I took. It wasn’t until I saw the pair of feet lying on the ground that made me stop, the bar falling silent. 

Slowly rounding the corner, I saw the torn clothing and broken body of a young man, probably the same age as me. I looked at his pale hands, and then I saw the ring. A plain gold ring that read ‘be strong for me’. 

“Oh my god,” I whispered. 

My feet couldn’t carry me fast enough out of that bar. I ran outside, desperate for fresh air, and I heard shouts calling after me. 

“YLN!” Prentiss chased me until I stopped to lean against the car, my head in my hands. “Hey, you’re hyperventilating!”

I slowed down my breathing enough to gasp a few words. “The body... a ring... my fault... oh my god, this is my fault!”

Prentiss pried my hands away from my face. “What is happening?” 

“The body,” I gasped. “He was my brother... and I know who did this.”

--- 

The team all gathered at the station. I hadn’t spoken to anyone yet except for Hotch and Prentiss, and after hearing my story, they didn’t have any doubts about who it was either.

Spencer walked into the quiet room the police had given us, looking at me with a worried face. I nodded at him, just to say it was going to be okay. 

“Growing up, my father owned a large share of an oil company. When he died when I was very young, he left my mom everything he owned, which was a lot.” I thought back to when Mom first got the call about the car accident. My dad and his mistress were killed on impact. “We moved here to Pagosa Springs, a fresh start. But my mom was so upset about my dad’s death that she started drinking. Excessively.” 

I took a deep breath. “She would scream and shout and disappear for days at a time. We’re twins, my brother and I. We were eleven. I was about to graduate high school at a very young age and I didn’t know what to do. When I went off to college for the first few years and stayed with my aunt, my brother would call me every time Mom was off drinking. When he was a teen, he got into drugs and pills and anything he could get his hands on. And I wasn’t there to help him.”

“But Cassie was.” Hotch guessed. 

“Yeah, she's the reason my brother got clean. They fell in love and both went to Colorado State together. She gave him a ring to wear whenever he started to have cravings again. One time, Cassie called me when I was at MIT, saying her friend, Bethany, was raped and couldn’t go to the police because her parents would stop paying her tuition for ‘causing a scene’... she said my brother, YBN...” my voice broke for the first time. “She said YBN beat the crap out of Bethany’s rapist. His name is Kenny Rogers, and from what I’ve heard, he was a sketchy dude with a massive temper even back then.” I closed my eyes. “Anyway, that’s most likely who our unsub is.” 

“You’re YBN’s sister,” Spencer said. “After having his ego blown massively, Kenny probably carried that hatred for anyone that was related to YBN. And YFN has been in newspapers, articles, even on TV. Something probably caused Kenny to snap recently, his trigger, and he felt the need to hurt YFN somehow to really get back at YBN.”

Hotch called Garcia. “Garcia, we need all addresses on a Kenny Rogers.” 

---

Kenny Rogers was guilty. No doubt. When the team went to his place, they found pictures of all the victims and Kenny tried to run whenever they broke down the door. 

I stayed behind at the station. I couldn’t trust myself to not shoot Kenny on sight for what he had done. 

“Hey, Hotch?” I asked when they got back. “Could I take a few days off? To take care of things...with my brother?” 

Hotch gave me a pat on my shoulder. “Take as much time as you need, just let me know when you’re coming back.” 

“Of course sir, and thank you.”

I made sure to pull Spencer aside before he left. “Thanks for... um, helping me explain... earlier. I was worried they wouldn’t think it was connected, and you already knew all that stuff about my childhood.”

“Of course, you know I would do anything for you.” Spencer stood there for a minute, then suddenly embraced me tightly in a hug. That wasn’t something he did very often, or at all. “I just...” 

I chuckled slightly, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I know, Spencer.” 

---

After the team took off on the jet, I checked into the local hotel. It was nice and rustic, homey. 

I called Spencer when I had settled in. 

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked. “The team seems to be getting more and more impressed by you with each case.” 

I gave a snort. “Well, that’s a relief. I was scared after my life story they would see me as some kind of kicked puppy. And, I’m okay Spencer. At least, I’m going to be.”

“What will you do about your brother?”

I felt a melancholy smile on my lips, playing with the loose threads on the blanket. “He’s been cremated, and tomorrow I’m scattering his ashes in the mountains. It’s what he always wanted. I hadn’t spoken to him in years, but he always wanted to come back home, and I couldn’t wait to get away.” 

Spencer was quiet for a while. “Hey, YFN, I just wanna tell you... you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You went off to college and still took care of your brother at age twelve, you took a gap year to take care of your sick mom, and in your first few months at the BAU you’ve been able to impress every single team member... and they aren’t easily impressed.”

Happy tears pricked my eyes. “Well, um... that was one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said to me. And Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you... so much.”

Spencer cleared his throat, like he was debating about saying something. “Um, YFN?”

“What is it?”

His voice lowered, like he didn’t want the team to hear. “In college, I... I was wanting to propose to you.”

My heart seemed to flutter and butterflies pounded in my chest. “Um... you’ve never told me that before. Why didn’t you... do it?”

He thought for a few moments. “Well, you were going to take care of your mom, and I was going to the FBI academy... also, I didn’t think you would say yes.”

“Wow... um, I don’t really know what to say.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

I gave a slight giggle. “You, speechless? I never would’ve guessed.”

Spencer laughed. “Well, goodnight, YFN. I’ll see you soon.”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

[llogllady99]

Crimson Red : Chapter 1

Scholar’s Mate

CHARACTERS | Levi, Erwin, Petra, Hange, Moblit, Mike, Nanaba, Eld, Oluo, Gunther, Kenny, Erwin’s Father, Kuchel, Frieda Reiss, Nile Dok, Yelena, Marie RELATIONSHIPS | Levi x Erwin GENRE | Mystery, Thriller, Romance, Dark Academia IV | Blood and gore, Blood and violence, Alternate universe - modern setting/high school/ boarding school, angst and fluff and smut, knife kink, knife play, drama & romance, eventual romance, eventual smut, emotional manipulation, cults, rituals SUMMARY | Sina Academy of Excellence and Inquiry is the best boarding school in all of England, producing over time leaders of Nations and outstanding personalities in society as well as being the perfect environment for your child to flourish in, spending his time with specially trained staff to support his need and wonderful, well behaved peers like him. We only have two rules: don't go in the woods and do not try to go through locked doors. From the statement above one would have assumed that Sina was the perfect school and that the rules that were imposed were just for their children's safety, but as Levi joins the school at the beginning of his senior year, he uncovers a secret so putrid and morbid that will leave him scared for life. That is...if he manages to make it out alive.

Chapter song: Devil’s trill sonata

August 23rd 1996, London

Deformed, lazy, pungent smelling circles rose above her head, as Kuchel exhaled the smoke the cigarette she was currently holding between her long, bony, alabaster fingers provided her with. She did not smoke that often, only when she was under a rather stressful situation. Today, her son would be departing from home in order to attend a boarding school across country. It wasn’t that she did not trust him or have enough faith in him, but since his brother announced Levi’s immediate enrolment, a feeling of distress had started to grow in the pit of her stomach, becoming larger and larger everyday, until it finally managed to take upon her entire being. Thence, the obnoxious amount of cigarette butts lying around carelessly and forgotten on the balcony of her victorian terraced house. Taking one last drag out of the device, which would inevitably bring upon her death someday, she dropped it to the tiled floor and not sparing a second glance its way, stomped it until the electric orange that lined its edge turned a dark ashy brown. Further covering up herself with her long brown coat and shivering slightly from the chill morning, Kuchel made her way back inside the house where the sound of piano keys being pressed consistently in formation of a slow and disturbing song grew louder and louder as she approached her son’s room.

The door was opened and inside a large piano could be spotted by the large and covered with white and blue curtains window. Sited at the instrument was Levi, pressing the keys with precision, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Devil’s trill sonata?” Kuchel asked, sitting down on the small sofa in front of a coffee table where an unfinished game of chess laid, its pieces shining with the bright light seeping in from the windows. If she didn’t know any better she might’ve said that this was a new chess set, but with her son’s obsession with keeping everything clean and organised, something rarely got in poor condition.

“Indeed, mother. Took me a while to learn it. Care to share your opinion?” Levi replied not taking his eyes off the keyboard.

“It’s exquisite, like every sound your hands ever produced on that piano.” She answered, leaning further into the soft cushions of the couch. As if to prove her wrong, Levi pressed the wrong key and unbalanced the whole song, losing his concentration and ultimately his rhythm. Sighing in frustration, he got up and joined his mother on the couch.

“And just when I think I’ve got it, I mess it up.” Levi fretted, then glanced at the unfinished game of chess. “Humour me mother and grant me the honour of one last game of chess before we depart.”

“Certainly,” she replied then helped her son rearrange the pieces on the board. She chose white so she could dictate the conduct of the game: a simple scholar’s mate from her son as they were already late to the station. ‘E4 e5, Qh7 Nc6, Bc4 Nf6, Qxf7’ , Levi checkmated her, stood up and sought her hand, also bring her to her feet shortly after.

“I think it would have been better if we postponed the game, winning in such a desolate manner almost has me furious. However, I am well aware that we are already late to the station. Please lead the way mother.” Kuchel smiled at her boy, of course it would infuriate him, this game was nothing like the hour long matches they used to share, her being the first that introduced the game to Levi.

“Levi dear, you never did tell me why you quit competition, you would have become a master by now.” Kuchel said from the driver’s seat, looking shortly in Levi’s way. She personally offered to drive her son to the station as she wanted to spent every last moment with him before he was gone. She was sure to miss him dearly, and he would miss her too, though he won’t show it because he would be too embarrassed to do so.

“I’m quite confident you know, but I will tell you one final time: Isabell enjoyed the game and it feels wrong competing, something that she never got to experience as the rug was pulled from beneath her feet before she even had a chance.” Levi turned away and looked out the window, slightly fidgeting with his hands. “What do you think the school will be like? You attended a boarding school yourself, so please tell me.”

“That was a long time sweetie, a lot has changed since then, but I will tell you this: the bond you will form with your soon to be friends will last a life time.” Kuchel replied, not taking her eyes off the road. After a few more turns they arrived at the train station. It was finally time to say goodbye. Levi regarded her with one of his warmest smiles and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I will see you soon, mother. Take care.” And just like that he was gone, his small form disappearing behind the high arched red pillars of the station, the small black suitcase with the last of his belongings trailing behind him. His other luggage had been sent before hand. Kuchel wiped a tear from her cheek and got back in the car, heading in the direction of the closest high class bar.

-

To say the train was packed would be an understatement, every wagon was agglomerated by students just like him chatting animatedly about their summers, their high pitched voices ringing through the train, worsening his already present headache. He decided to try another wagon, so pushing past the intermediate hall’s door, he entered the isle of one with cabins. Every single one of them was packed with the same loud and obnoxious students, except the one from the very end. A cabin whose occupant was a girl with messy brown hair, tied up carelessly into a ponytail, square glasses sitting gently on the tip of her slightly down turned nose. She was mindlessly eating from a bag of chips as she pondered over whatever it was that she was looking at through the compartment’s window. Levi slid the door open and cleared his throat to get the girl’s attention. The girl shook her head, startled a bit by his presence then cocked an eyebrow his way, urging him to say something.

“Do you mind?”

“Mind what?” The brunette replied, her voice melodic and with just the right amount of deepness to it.

“Me sitting here.” Levi replied awkwardly, faking indifference and adopting a bored looking expression. He was never good with people and interactions like this distressed him immensely.

“Not at all, please take a sit.” The girl smiled and gestured for the sit in front of him.

“Thanks.” Levi hoisted his luggage up and dumped it on the support space above their heads, before proceeding to sit across from her. For a few minutes none of them spoke a word, instead switching their gaze between the landscape present beyond the window and themselves when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

“Hange.” The girl suddenly muttered.

“Excuse me?” Levi switched his gaze towards her, tilting his head to the side bewildered.

“Name’s Hange.” The girl, Hange, rapidly spoke, seemingly experiencing the same overwhelming emotions that came with meeting new people as him.

“Nice meeting you Hange, my name is Levi.” He extended her hand out to her and after a moment’s hesitation the brunette shook his hand.

"You headin’ to Sina?”

“Indeed, I am. I assume you do too?” He said, his eyes fixing her uniform: a white and freshly starched button up with a navy blue skirt, tailored to sit just above the knee, and a purple tie.

“Yeah.” Hange replied awkwardly then started fidgeting with her hands a bit more.

“The students screaming like they own the place do too?” He tried to ask, to further stir the conversation.

“Yeah, they are. My friends were also supposed to be here but one of them will be coming tomorrow and the rest are already at the academy.”

“So soon? Wow, I barely came today because it was required and because of the orientation day tomorrow.” Levi was being unusually vocal. Maybe he was just trying to soothe the other girl’s nerves, but he also felt that he could trust her, weirdly enough. At his affirmation, Hange’s face lighted up, and all traces of embarrassment seemed to have fled from her face as she now began talking earnestly. Orientation day was an opportunity for the students to mingle with other houses, or factions as she like to call them, and meet their professors, explore the school, and if they weren’t already be sorted into a house. Hange also made sure to enumerate all the teachers present, emphasising on someone with the name of Frieda Reiss, the math teacher and Nile Dok, the history teacher that apparently made very good jokes and his lessons were always pleasant for the students, being one of the few moments of relaxation throughout their day.

“What house are you in Levi?”

“That I certainly don’t know, I suppose I am to be sorted.”

“Yeah, well the housing system is pretty fucked up if you ask me. They organise us based on our personality type.”

“Is that a bad thing? It doesn’t seem to be, I would be quite content with being placed in a house with personalities similar to mine, makes the whole socialising thing so much easier.”

“Sure, but you wouldn’t be stepping outside your comfort zone,” retorted Hange. “Not to mention the discrimination against those who are considered “less special” are made.”

“I believe that if we were all to be the same, the world would surely become quite insipid.”

“If everyone shared your opinion, the school would be a much more better place.”

“Please explain the housing system to me, Hange.” Her gaze settling once again on him from where it was directed out the window, she began explaining. The housing system was based on the personality types of people and the roles which they played in society, making it easier for the staff to each of their individual needs. There were four houses. The first was Boethiah house, where architects, logicians, commanders, and debaters would reside. Its signature colour was purple, symbolising the high intellect its students possessed. The second house was Antheia, where advocates, mediators, protagonists, and campaigners found their place. Represented by the colour green, the house was known for its social and communicative students. The third was Martell house, which gave place to the logisticians, defenders, executives, and consuls, the indigo blue colour signifying their nurturing and loyal nature. The last of the houses was Lannister, housing the virtuosus, adventurers, entrepreneurs, and entertainers. The people in this house were fun and full of humour, the colour yellow revealing their outgoing nature. The houses were named by the four founders of the school, respectively Phoibe Boethiah, Panacea Martell, Caelum Antheia, Kestrel Lannister.

“Hange I’m sorry to interrupt you but this whole thing seems very Harry Potter to me, and don’t let me get started on the names, they sound right out of a fantasy novel.” Levi snorted, amused by his new school.

“Yeah, but the school was founded in 1000 AD, imagine the names they had then.” Hange replied, huffing out a laugh.

“I assume you’re from Boethiah?” He said, jerking his chin in the direction of her purple tie.

“Yeah, we are the smallest house as our personalities are so rare. I wonder what house they’ll place you in. Did you take the test?”

“Yeah, when I took my entrance exam a few months ago, something about a psychological evaluation.” And with that their conversation ended, instead each of them turning their attention to their forever changing surroundings, vibrant green meadows and flowery fields slowly turning into dull, grey moors as the sun above then started to set, orange, red, yellow, and orange blending with the dark blue the night brought along.

-

At the academy, in the encrimsoned light of the headmaster’s office, Erwin Smith stood proudly  with his hands behind his back watching from the giant circular window over the school’s gates in anticipation of the students’ arrival for the new trimester.

“You did quite a good job last year, Erwin. I expect the same this year.” Arcturus Smith, Erwin’s father and also the headmaster, spoke from his dark oak desk in the middle of the room, breaking the silence that had settled over the office. The blonde turned his attention to his father and bowed his head in appreciation and assurance. Arcturus bent slightly over the desk, his chin now resting in the palm of his hands.

“Please come take a seat. Let me introduce you to this year’s targets.”

“I was actually questioning myself when you were going to introduce them to me.” Erwin said, as he made to take a sit across his father. The man pushed two files in his direction, both of them stamped with red ink that spelled “CLASSIFIED”. Carefully, he picked up the first one and opened it. The picture of a redheaded girl with short hair stood in front of him.

“Nifa Thompson,” he read out loud. He eyed his father expectingly.

“She’s a sophomore and you have until September 21st, think you can handle it?” Arcturus cocked his eyebrow. “The girl isn’t very sociable and I’m sure some undeserved attention from the school’s head boy and number one bachelor will send her flying over the moon.” Erwin sighed and shook his head, then after a moment’s reconsideration looked up at his father and approved. The next file was about a new boy by the name of Levi Ackerman, he had short raven hair styled in an undercut, piercing blue-silver eyes, and a bored, impassive expression. He doubted he would be an easy target but he was up for a challenge. Looking up at his father, Erwin smirked.

“This one is perfect father. Blood type O and INTJ Personality type. He’s a gem. His mother is an alcoholic, his uncle is nowhere to be found, and he has no other close relatives. No one's going to miss him when he's gone. ” Now he laughed. Arcturus eyes shone with satisfaction.

“Just perfect for this winter’s sacrifice. And guess what? It’s also going to be a full moon, just like you always wanted. Maybe this year I’ll let you do the honourifics. That is, if everything goes as planned.” Then the headmaster leaned down in his chair and adopting again his usual cold demeanour, he said, “You are dismissed, son. Please go and welcome our students. I wish you a good year, full of achievements and perfect scores.

Erwin bowed and left the office.

-

As Levi walked through the massive iron gates of the school, he immediately gawked. Sina was like nothing he had seen. To put it simply: the school was spectacular. Touched by gothic architecture, the building displayed pointed arches lighted by golden yellow lamps from below, flying buttresses, and embellished colonnades. One feature that particularly stood out to Levi were the large lion statuettes that stood firmly place on each side of the enormous front staircase that started from the yard in which they were currently walking in, and that had a beautiful lotus pooled white marble fountain, and ended right beneath two high arched oak doors. At the gate they were met with a teacher, a women in her thirties that had piercing blue-purple eyes and ebony black hair that fell flawlessly on her navy blue Tudor coat, who escorted them inside the school.

The entry gave way to a long and wide hallway with vaulted ceiling and intermittently placed pillars. A few feet from each other hung golden chandeliers lightning their way as they headed in the direction the teacher was leading them in. High up in the ceiling there was stained glass through which the moon’s light slipped in, almost unnoticeably.

In the dining room there were four long tables each placed parallel to each other, the ceiling was painted with frescoes, beautiful biblical images. The professors’ dinning table was in an adjacent room, being separated by one of those pointed arches Levi had seen outside. Similar to the hallway, the dinning room also had stained glass, one particular piece stood out to Levi as it was the image of Jesus himself painted on red and blue glass, slightly highlighted by the moon’s light, whose outline could be made through the blue glass that composed Jesus’s robe. Truly spectacular. Even though he was just as rich as everyone attending here, he had never seen such a school. His last school was also private, but instead had modern architecture with the sparing of a few buildings such as the chapel or assembly hall.

“Please leave your luggage by the entrance and go take a seat at the table assigned to your house specifically. Those of you who have not been assigned a house yet please go and stand by the teachers’ table as the headmaster and the other staff will join us shortly and place you where they think fits you best. I’m Frieda Reiss and I will be your math teacher this trimester.”

Shortly after, the staff made their way to their table and as everyone was seated and quieted down, Arcturus, the headmaster delivered his annual welcoming speech and turned to the fresh meat waiting patiently and awkwardly into a corner.

“Ah I suppose I am to assign each of you your house, very well then come on here don’t be shy.” The group made their way once more in the middle of the dinning room. All of the eyes were on them, the other students waiting just as nervously as them to see who they would be welcoming in their house next. The headmaster rummaged through his black Tudor coat and pulled out a piece of yellow, coffee stained paper and started reading aloud:

“Emma Williams goes to Lannister.” A blonde petite freshman girl made her way to the table on the far off right of the room and proceeded to sit down at the table with the other students, who were cheering and clapping exasperatingly, excited for their new member.

“Jane Walker to Martell,” again, a freckled redheaded girl made her way to one of the middle tables on the left, also welcomed by the cheering of the other members and quietly sat down with a smile on her face, clearly satisfied with the choice.

“Hmm, Levi Ackermann, an interesting name for someone British. Your assignment has been a hard one as the test refused to reveal anything concrete, but after a long dispute among all members of the faculty, we decided to assign you to Boethiah as an architect!” Arcturus beamed, extending his hands and widening his eyes as he bore Levi with his predatory gaze. The boy smiled then made his way to the table in the far off left end of the dinning room. His eyes searched involuntary for Hange, who was seated at the middle already on her feet and waving him over ecstatically.

“Oh my god Levi! I can’t believe you’re an architect!! I never would have guessed! Come have a sit don’t just stand there.” Levi took a sit beside her as the brunette shuffled to the side to make him space. Everyone was looking at him, throwing glances and misplaced whispers to their colleagues. Levi only smiled in their direction and looked around the table, his eyes stopping on a fiery strawberry blonde girl in front of him that was burning holes in him with her gaze. They stared at each other, none making a step towards the other. Hange was talking about something in the background but he didn’t turn to pay attention, refusing to break eye contact with the girl. Eventually, with a puff the girl relinquished and extended her hand over the table,

“Petra,” she said. Levi took her hand and with a smirk told her his name. And just like that Levi made two friends at the Academy already, chatting animatedly with them over dinner. At some point, someone placed a hand over his shoulder. Somewhat startled, the raven flinched then turn to look for the hand’s owner, a blonde and well built boy with a cold stare was fixing him with his sapphire eyes, a lop sided grin present on his face.

“Erwin Smith, I came here to give you an official greeting to our school,” pulling Levi to his feet, he forcefully shook his hand and with a forced grin continued, “I am the head boy here and I am in charge of the students, if you have any concern or question about anything by all means come to me and I will do my best to support you and grant the answers you seek. Welcome to Sina Academy of Excellence and Inquiry, Levi Ackerman.” And with that Erwin dropped his hand and after placing a hand on his shoulder, walked away retaking his seat at the head of their obscenely long table, disappearing out of his sight as he took a sit back down. A rather interesting start to what he reckoned would be an equally interesting year.

Notes:

I do not own Attack on titan or any of the characters in the show or related to it!!

I really hoped you like it, if you did please stick around as there will be more where that came from!

[starring-movies]

Killing Eve: Episode Analysis

*SPOILERS*

Season 3, Episode 7 - Beautiful Monster

We begin the episode with Villanelle, who is waiting to meet with Hélène, after the sloppy kill in Romania. As she’s waiting, we get some close-up shots of Villanelle and a suit of armour, which she tells Hélène “was really staring at me”. The close-up shots are repeated from S2E5, where they portrayed the ‘watcher’ and the one ‘being watched’. In S2E5, Villanelle was the one who was ‘the watcher’ (i.e. the one with the power and in control); whereas in this scene, Villanelle has now become the one ‘being watched’ (she has now lost the control in her life and job that she previously had).

As we see Villanelle waiting for Hélène, within the shot of Villanelle we can see 8 swords behind her, the imagery of which invokes the tarot card, the ‘Eight of Swords’. After looking it up here, the ‘Eight of Swords’ card is “a symbol of the limiting thoughts, beliefs and mindset that prevent her from moving forward in her life. However, look closer: if the woman removed her blindfold, she would quickly realise that she can escape her predicament by letting go of her limiting beliefs and establishing a new, more empowered mindset. The water pooled at her feet suggests that her intuition might see what her eyes cannot”.

This imagery is very apt for Villanelle’s current situation; as she’s feeling the limitations due to the lack of freedom that she’s realised she has, together with her entrapment in working for The Twelve. The spears are also positioned to look like they’re coming out of Villanelle, which illustrates to us how she’s on the mental offence and trying to protect her current vulnerabilities and fragility from what happened in Russia, from Hélène.

A song (most likely an unreleased Unloved song) with the repeated lyrics, “into the fire”, is used in this scene. Paired with the suits of armour and weaponry in the scene’s shot, we are shown how Villanelle is metaphorically going “into the fire” and beginning a battle against The Twelve for her freedom.

When Villanelle goes in for her meeting with Hélène, there are more swords and suits of armour around the room and behind Villanelle, further emphasising the entrapment she’s in. A Dutch tilt angle is also briefly used, and it’s only used on Villanelle. The Dutch tilt was last used for Villanelle in S3E2, to show her disorientation and shock after finding out that Eve was alive. However, it’s used in this scene to reflect Villanelle’s unease at having to attend this meeting with Hélène.

We also get a call back to S1E7 in this scene with Hélène. Hélène commandingly tells Villanelle to “sit down”, just as Anton repeatedly did back in S1E7. With Anton, Villanelle refused to sit down and disobeyed his orders; however with Hélène, Villanelle knows that she is outmatched, and so reluctantly has to comply with the command.

Hélène then proceeds to press on the wound on Villanelle’s arm, but then quickly embraces her. This is Hélène’s attempt both at a power play and at manipulating Villanelle. She does this as an act, to show Villanelle that she’s more powerful than her and can easily hurt her if she wants to; but also wants to give the impression that she can provide the ‘motherly’ protection and care that she knows Villanelle is in search for.

Villanelle responds to this act in typical Villanelle fashion, by appearing like she was going to reveal what happened (“I did something bad to my mother”), but then deflecting (“I took a shit in her shoe when I was three, a really big one”). She does the exact same thing as this with the psychologist fromThe Twelve in S1E2, when she is confronted with a picture of ‘Anna’ she says it’s not Anna but her mother, but then says she was joking because her mother had “really thin, shitty hair”; and she also does it in S1E5 when Eve asks her what happened and she agrees saying “okay”, but again diverting by saying “can we get one thing clear before we go on with this? Is that a sweater attached to a shirt?”.

Villanelle uses her comment to Hélène, where she thanks her “for the inappropriate touching” and tells her “god, you’re sexy”, to try to maintain her facade to Hélène that nothing’s wrong with her and also that she saw through her ‘caring mother’ act.

This is the second episode of Season 3, the other being S3E2, where different title cards are used. In S3E2, the title cards were on a red background (the colour of Villanelle’s outfit in Rome), but this time they’re on a green background (the colour of Eve’s outfit in Rome). The red colour for Villanelle was used in S3E2, as that episode was the liminal one for her character development. It was in that episode where she began to try to climb the ladder to becoming a Keeper in The Twelve, subsequently becomes discontented from the realisation that she’s been tricked and also that she doesn’t have the freedom she thought she had. Whereas it’s this episode that is the liminal moment for Eve, where she finally fully accepts and embraces her “monster”.

The title cards are also emblematic in showing us the progress of Eve and Villanelle’s journey to becoming “the same” as each other. From S3E2 to S3E7, the black circle with Sandra Oh’s [Eve] name in it becomes slightly larger, symbolising Eve’s “darkness” becoming more prominent. From S3E2 to S3E7, the black splodge with Jodie Comer’s [Villanelle] name in it becomes significantly smaller, symbolising her growing humanity and her receding “darkness”. In S3E7, the black circles with Sandra Oh and Jodie Comer’s names in them have also become the same size as each other, indicating that Eve and Villanelle have finally come to a point where they are “the same” and managed to reach an equilibrium.

The song ‘Look What You Made Me Do’ by Jack Leopards & The Dolphin Club (thought to be an alias for Taylor Swift to righty release the song under her own ownership), is played during the title cards. The lyrics we hear are:

“I don’t like your little games,

I don’t like your tilted stage,

I don’t like you,

I got smarter, I got harder, in the nick of time,

Honey rose up from the dead,

I do it all the time,

Look what you made me do,

Look what you just made me do,

Look what you made me do,

No, I don’t like you”

The song is appropriate for Villanelle, as it emphasises her feelings and struggle against The Twelve. She doesn’t like the “little games” they’re playing with her and she “got smarter” in realising how she was being manipulating by them.

In the next scene we see Eve having a meting with Carolyn to discuss their progress with finding out what happened to Kenny. As usual Eve brings the focus back around to Villanelle and Carolyn retorts that Eve should “do well to remember heroes only get the girl in Hollywood”. It’s clear that everyone else can see Eve’s obsession and attraction to Villanelle, except Eve herself. Kenny calls Villanelle “your girlfriend” to Eve in S1E8 and Hugo picks up on it, asking Eve “what’s the deal with you and Villanelle... why is it? Do you like watching her, or do you like being watched?”.

We then get a scene of Eve, Bear and Jamie in the Bitter Pill office, as they try to track down Villanelle. Eve starts speaking to the bakery that Villanelle ordered the bus cake from, to try to get her personal information. Before Bear tells Eve he’s found the information that she was looking for, she was about to use Niko’s pitchforking to pity the bakery worker into giving her the information. This shows us how, although Eve does have love Niko, he has always been disposable and able to be pushed aside in Eve’s life, in favour of the things she values as more important (like her job or in this case, Villanelle). It also shows us how Eve just uses Niko, she was using him before to maintain her facade of having a normal life and now she’s using his tragic maiming to find Villanelle. This additionally shows us Eve’s relentlessness and how she has no moral boundaries for what she is willing to say or do to try to track down Villanelle.

When Villanelle and Dasha are in the hotel in Aberdeen, they have a conversation in the hotel lift. Just like Hélène did at the beginning of the episode, Dasha presses on Villanelle’s wound, as a power play. However, unlike with Hélène, Villanelle knows that she can ‘one-up’ Dasha and they start trying to take digs at one another.

Villanelle tells Dasha - who we know, from her tracksuits, her necklace with a ‘D’ on it, and the fact that she refers to herself in the third person, that she is incredibly self centred - that Russia has changed since she lived there and that there will no one waiting for her to return home, but she will only be greeted by “indifference”. Hélène told Dasha in S3E4 that “people would be dancing in the street and chanting your name, ‘Dasha, Dasha, Dasha’”; so Villanelle telling her that people will be indifferent about her returning to Russia would dent her ego a little bit.

In response to this, Dasha bites back by saying that she doesn’t care about a “hero’s welcome” and if she wants stroganoff, she says “my son can make it”. We then suddenly get extreme close-up shots of Villanelle and Dasha, because Villanelle “didn’t know [Dasha] had a son”. The extreme close-ups continue as Dasha continues to push the knife in further, by saying that she will die with her feet up and holding her son’s hand, but that Villanelle will die alone because she destroyed her family.

Although Villanelle and Dasha don’t get along (and Dasha tried to kill Villanelle once), Villanelle still most likely views Dasha as a mother figure of sorts. Dasha mentioned that Villanelle was “dumped” on her when she had “mosquito bites for breasts”, which tells us that they’ve known each other for a very long time and that Dasha (just like Konstantin) would have had a part in raising Villanelle. In S3E4, Dasha starts cleaning up Villanelle’s things telling her “you don’t deserve nice things if you don’t look after them”, just as a mother would. Also in S3E1 Dasha also makes a big deal about how proud she is of Villanelle, saying “you’re so talented, you’re the best I ever trained, you’re destined for greatness”; and telling Eve in S3E6 how “I created her, I took raw shit and moulded it into steel, I broke her back, I give her wings”.

Villanelle will be aware that she’s like Dasha’s prodigy. So for Villanelle to suddenly find out that Dasha has a son, and she’s not like the child that Dasha never had, it’s yet another disappointment and loss of a maternal figure and/or family for Villanelle. The sudden use of the extreme close-ups just accentuates and draws our attention to Villanelle’s emotional reaction to this realisation and Dasha’s enjoyment in her suffering.

However, Villanelle hides any hint that she’s been effected by what Dasha has told her and instead comments, unfazed, about Dasha’s halitosis (which is bad breath) - again another remark that knocks Dasha’s ego.

We then see Villanelle and Dasha on the golf course in Aberdeen, observing the target they’ve been sent to kill. Villanelle is wearing the green hairy outfit, literally embodying the “beautiful monster” that Hélène said she was. However, although Villanelle fulfils the role of the “beautiful monster” on the outside; by deciding to not kill the target and letting him run away instead, she doesn’t actually end up fulfilling the role of being the “monster” that Hélène said she was.

Dasha also comments to Villanelle about how she will miss “that feeling you get when you snuff out a life, when you can see your own eyes reflected in dilated pupils, when you can count the number of breaths they have left on one hand”. This is something that we’ve seen Villanelle enjoy a number of times: the Greco kill in Tuscany S1E1, the Carla De Mann kill in Paris in S1E2 and the Fat Panda kill in Berlin in S1E3.

When Eve finds Dasha on the golf course while in pursuit of Villanelle, Dasha makes a comment about Niko’s moustache being “like Stalin”, which prompts Eve to kill Dasha by crushing her chest. We see the same expression from Eve, which we saw from Villanelle at the Tuscany kill in S1E1, as she revels in “that feeling you get when you snuff out a life” that dAsha was describing. Similarly, we also see Dasha’s enjoyment as she watches Eve and vicariously feels her experience “that feeling”, from killing her.

After Villanelle hit Dasha with the golf club and is waiting for Konstantin to pick her up, the song ‘Watch Your Back’ by The Coathangers. The lyrics:

“I’m stuck here,

No way out,

Back, you can never go back,

You can never go back,

You can never go back,

No, no, no”

The lyrics of the song demonstrate how Villanelle now has “no way out” and “can never go back”. By ‘killing’ Dasha she’s now made her choice and will never be able to return to working for The Twelve and has to find a way to move forward now instead.

The song also relates to Eve, who similarly “can never go back”, after having a hand in killing Dasha and finding enjoyment in the act of doing so (unlike when she killed Raymond). Once Eve has fully released and embraced her “monster”, she can never return to the life of normalcy she once had.

Just like how Eve was about to use Niko’s pitchforking to get the information she wants, she also does it again when the American target tries to get help from her. The American man asks for help to escape from Villanelle, but Eve just repeatedly asks him what the girl looked like, and then proceeds to push him out of the car so that she can peruse Villanelle. It shows us Eve’s frenzy and focus on trying to find Villanelle and not caring about anything, or anyone else, at all.

‘I See Darkness’ by Red Mecca also starts to play as Eve crushes Dasha’s chest. The lyrics we hear are:

“Just as time,

Wonder why,

I see darkness in you,

I see darkness in you,

I see darkness in you,

Lose my breath,

Alone with you,

I see shadows of you”

The last time this song was used, was for Villanelle’s mother in S3E5. The song is used in this instance, to again show how Eve has come to a turning point and a point where her “darkness” is fully rearing it’s head. As the song is used for Eve’s darkness while she kills Dasha, the use of the song for Villanelle’s mother to connect the two scenes, supports the thought that Tatiana may have also been a killer (and most likely killed Villanelle’s father).

When Villanelle and Eve narrowly miss each other at the train station in Scotland after Konstantin had his heart attack; an unreleased song, presumably by Unloved is played over the scene. The lyrics we can hear are:

“I once had a love,

Or did love have me,

It set me free,

It set me free”

The song encapsulates Villanelle and Eve’s relationship: do they love each other or are they at the whim of Love, being consumed and controlled by it? Whatever the answer may be, they can both say that the love they have for one another put them on a journey that has “set [them] free”. Eve has come to accept her “monster” and Villanelle’s eyes have been opened to the lack of freedom she has in her life.

In the final scene of the episode, at Liverpool Street train station in London, Eve gets a phone call from Villanelle. We get a wide shot of Eve as the camera pans away from her, which is a shot that is repeated with Villanelle in the tea dance scene in S3E8. The wide shots are used to highlight Eve and Villanelle’s isolation when they’re not together; when Villanelle and Eve aren’t together, they have no-one else who is there for them. The shots are also used to illustrate to us how everything else in the work pales into insignificance when they’re together; there can be so many other people around and so many other things happening, but their sole focus is on one another - the rest of the world continues to turn but their worlds’ stop when they’re without the other.

You can read my previous Killing Eve posts here:-

First Introduction to Villanelle

First Introduction to Eve

S1, E1 - Nice Face

S1, E2 - I’ll Deal With Him Later

S1, E3 - Don’t I Know You?

S1, E4 - Sorry Baby

S1, E5 - I Have a Thing about Bathrooms

S1, E6 - Take Me to the Hole!

S1, E7 - I Don’t Want to Be Free

S1, E8 - God, I’m Tired

S2, E1 - Do You Know How to Dispose of a Body?

S2, E2 - Nice and Neat

S2, E3 - The Hungry Caterpillar

S2, E4 - Desperate Times

S2, E5 - Smell Ya Later

S2, E6 - I Hope You Like Missionary!

S2, E7 - Wide Awake

S2, E8 - You’re Mine

S3, E1 - Slowly Slowly Catchy Monkey

S3, E2 - Management Sucks

S3, E3 - Meetings Have Biscuits

S3, E4 - Still Got It

S3, E5 - Are You From Pinner? [Part 1]

S3, E5 - Are You From Pinner? [Part 2]

S3, E6 - End of Game

S3, E8 - Are You Leading or Am I? [Part 1]

——————————————————————————

[wrestlingisfake]

Slammiversary preview

This is Impact's 19th anniversary show, although they didn't start using this name until the 3rd anniversary, and now they always hold it a month after the actual anniversary date. For the first time since March 2020, Impact will have fans at the show, but on a limited basis. So I would expect maybe 50-100 people spaced pretty far apart.

The show airs live tonight on Fite.tv. The pre-show is free and begins at 7pm EDT; the main show is $39.99 and starts at 8pm EDT.

Kenny Omega vs. Sami Callihan - Callihan is challenging for the Impact men's world title, which is represented by two of the four belts that Omega currently holds. The other two, the AEW and AAA men's world titles, are not at stake. This is billed as "no DQ match" which ought to mean that the winner gets to go to Dairy Queen but probably means can't be disqualified.

Omega and his henchmen interfered in a Callihan vs. Moose match on June 3, causing Callihan to win by disqualification. Since Moose was the #1 contender at the time, officials considered adding Sami to the Omega vs. Moose match on June 12, but ultimately they decided to book the winner to face Callihan here. The storyline is that Omega's manager Don Callis keeps arguing that Callihan is too reckless and unprofessional to be in a world title match, but we all know he's really just worried that Sami could hurt Omega real bad and win the title.

If it was me, I'd have done Omega-Callihan last month to set up Omega-Moose here. (Moose's contract negotiations may have made that impractical.) I don't buy Sami as the big destination for one of the biggest Impact shows of the year. I want to be interested in Omega trying to figure out how to deal with a misfit deathmatch guy. But Sami comes across more like a guy playing a misfit deathmatch guy. I mean, I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley, but I'd rather do that than listen to his corny supervillain speeches or look at his Roman Reigns cosplay.

At this point I'm seriously wondering where they're going with Omega invading Impact, so I'm willing to believe they could wrap it up any day now and get the title off of him. Omega has to drop the belt to somebody, and I can see Impact picking Callihan, even if I'd pick somebody else. Even so, I still want to think there's a long-term plan in place, and that the blowoff won't come until at least the October pay-per-view. So I'm expecting this match will just come down to another wave of run-ins and shenanigans so Omega can retain.

Ultimate X match - This is a six-way match for Josh Alexander's Impact X division championship. The ring will be set up with four columns at each corner, which support either cables or scaffolding that cross overhead like a giant "X." The title belt will be hung from the center, and the first participant to pull it down will be the winner and champion. So it's like a ladder match, but there are no ladders.

Impact introduced this as one of their signature match types back in 2003, and they've always been rather proud of it. Personally I have trouble getting into it, since all the spots revolve around falling off of things, and all the "near-falls" involve slowly inching across a high-wire or a scaffold.

The six participants are: Josh Alexander, Petey Williams, Trey Miguel, Ace Austin, Rohit Raju, and Chris Bey. The storyline is that Austin and Raju have formed an alliance, and since no one can be disqualified they plan to gang up on the competition with their respective henchmen (Madman Fulton and Shera). Alexander, Williams, and Miguel are trying to stick together to oppose this, and Bey has reluctantly sided with them.

Alexander recently won a sixty-minute iron man match to add to his credentials as a dominant champion, so in theory this match is meant to secure his legacy as an all-time great in the division. Problem is, if he wins he's effectively cleaned out the division, and if he loses it's yet another situation where the champion didn't get pinned to lose the X title, setting up yet another multi-man X title match. Nevertheless, I'd much, much rather keep the belt on Alexander and have him move on to new business (maybe against a recent WWE castoff), so I guess I'm rooting for him to win.

Deonna Purrazzo vs. ? - Purrazzo is scheduled to defend the women's title against a mystery opponent who won't be revealed until right before the match starts. The storyline is that Purrazzo has cleaned out the division (a trope that's getting worn very thin in pro wrestling these days), so she's gotten overconfident, and Gail Kim set this up to truly put her to the test. They haven't said the opponent can't be Kim herself, although Kim strongly suggested that it won't be.

WWE has released a number of women over the past few months, and any of them could potentially be the challenger. Impact is probably counting on fans to jump to that conclusion. By not naming the challenger, Impact encourages fans to infer that she's currently under a WWE non-compete clause that won't expire until right before the show. Of course, none of us can be certain about those non-compete clauses, or which wrestlers have negotiated to waive them. We also can't be assured that the mystery opponent must be a WWE name; it could easily just be someone like ODB coming in for a cup of coffee.

Matches like this tend to be trouble for long-running champions. The most famous example would be when the Ultimate Warrior shocked the Honky Tonk Man in 1989. It won't help Purrazzo that she's cut ties with her cronies, Kimber Lee and Susan, so she won't have them ready to interfere if she gets in trouble. However, Purrazzo is already booked to defend the title in a champion vs. champion match on August 14, so it's hard to believe she'll drop the belt ahead of that.

Four-way tag team match - This is for the Impact men's tag team title, currently held by Violent By Design. Typically in a match like this, members of two teams start in the ring, while everyone else stands in their assigned corner. The legal wrestlers in the ring can tag in anyone in any corner, whether it's their own partner or an opponent. The first wrestler to score a fall on any opponent wins the match and the championship for his team.

The championship is currently held by Violent By Design: Rhino, Joe Doering, Deaner, and Eric Young. In the tradition of the "Freebird Rule," you get booked to wrestle the team, not any specific individuals, so then the team gets to choose which members will actually be in the match. Young has been sidelined with a knee injury so I'm pretty sure VBD's options are limited to Rhino, Doering, and Deaner. But they could always bring in a new member.

There will be three other teams in the match, but only two have been confirmed: Rich Swann & Willie Mack and Doc Gallows & Karl Anderson. When the match was first announced, the team of TJP & Fallah Baah was supposed to be in it. However, we found out yesterday that TJP is unable to do the match for some reason. Impact said the match will still involve four teams, but didn't say that Baah will get another partner. So it's possible Baah has also been pulled from the match, and both guys in the fourth team could be a surprise.

The build for this match felt like a clusterfuck. VBD and Gallows/Anderson are the top teams, but they're all heels, so some babyface teams had to get thrown together, and then all of it is dumped into one match until an actual story direction emerges. The only cool outcome I see is if Fallah Baah really does step aside and a whole new team debuts. But they could just as easily stick Johnny Swinger and Hernandez in there, so I shouldn't get my hopes up. The safe bet is the champs retain.

Moose vs. Chris Sabin - Moose has been a top heel for a while, but he kind of went babyface a little in his program with Kenny Omega. With that out of the way, he threw a tantrum about losing to Omega to remind us he's still a heel, until Sabin chased him off. Without Alex Shelley or James Storm to team with, Sabin hasn't had much to do, so now he's in a match that could re-establish him as a singles guy.

I assume the winner of this match get into the hunt for the world title, perhaps at whatever big show they do in August. That sort of favors Sabin, although I can't totally count out Moose. Moose feels like he's headed for bigger things in Impact, and a convincing win over a former Impact world champion here would get him off to a good start. I guess I've talked myself into picking Moose to win.

Eddie Edwards vs. W. Morrissey - Morrissey (formerly Big Cass in WWE) is on a roll as the latest Mean Guy to beat everybody up in Impact. Edwards, a former world champion in Impact and ROH, is his toughest competition since he got here. I don't see Edwards winning unless they have big plans for him. And I suppose they might have big plans for Eddie, but big plans are clearly in progress for Morrissey. I'm certain this is just a glorified squash match to put Morrissey over.

Matt Cardona & ? vs. Tenille Dashwood & Brian Myers - Cardona and Myers were the team of Zack Ryder & Curt Hawkins in WWE, but they've been feuding since they got to Impact. I'd actually forgotten that Dashwood and Cardona were dating about five or six years ago, which would maybe explain why she helped Myers beat down Cardona recently. So now we've got this mixed tag team match. Cardona has to find a woman to be his partner, but we don't know who it will be.

The minute they announced this match, they started teasing the mystery woman would be Cardona's fiancée, Chelsea Green. I suspect that tease was taped before Green showed up at the ROH pay-per-view saying she wasn't medically cleared in Maryland and that she would wrestle for ROH this summer. Of course, none of that necessarily means she can't wrestle for Impact with a wrist injury in Tennessee. But I think the tease is a deliberate misdirection. Dashwood has been trying to drive a wedge between Rachael Ellering and Jordynne Grace, so either of them might make sense in this spot.

If the mystery partner is any good, I think she has to get the win here. But even if Impact has picked up some hot free agents, I don't expect many of them to actually wrestle on this show. So it could be a deal where they reveal Green is in the company, Green swerves us by introducing (for example) Alisha Edwards as the partner, and the babyfaces just lose.

Kiera Hogan & Tasha Steelz vs. Rosemary & Havok - This is booked for the pre-show. Fire 'N' Flava (Hogan & Steelz) are defending the Impact women's tag team championship. As I recall, Rosemary and Taya Valkyrie feuded with Havok and Neveah a few months back over some spooky shit involving Rosemary and Havok. Anyway, Valkyrie and Neveah left the company, so I guess the spooky sides of those teams have put aside their differences. You could do some fun things with Rosemary and Havok as champs, but I don't know why you'd book the title change on a pre-show. So I think Hogan and Steelz retain, and this storyline will continue for a while longer.

[elixir448]

Good Girls 3x04 and 3x05 Disorganised Monster Post

Apologies in advance for the absolute mess this is going to be. I’ll start with 3x04 and try to keep it organised but it just...won’t be. And yeah, I made all the Dean sections about Beth and Rio. Bite me.

Mick

I. Am. In. Love. With. This. Man. I’m sorry but when he rolled down his window and said “good morning”, my jaw hit the ground. His voice is unreal. Does everyone in Rio’s gang have an amazing voice? Is it a requirement for joining? What is this sorcery?

I also get a kick out of the fact that he is so polite and charming with people that he doesn’t really know, just like Rio. I can’t help but think that they must have grown up together to be so similar in that way. Also, Mrs Karpinski and Mick. I would like to see more of them.

Beth and Dean (Did I make this section all about Beth and Rio? I may have.)

I think @pynkhues has already mentioned this and I totally agree with it. That Dean just works as a character so much better in humourous scenes, like when he’s purchasing a gun. I think the last time I laughed so much at a scene with Dean in it was at the end of 2x07, when he’s interacting with the krav maga instructor.

The moose analogy was hilarious and, I’m not gonna lie, I hope Dean sticks around in the story just so we can get more outsider POV of Beth and Rio’s relationship, because it is genuinely one of my favourite things in the show and to read about in fanfic. And Dean, Rio does not “have his way” with ‘your wife’; she wouldn’t be such a pain in his ass if he did. He did this in 3x05 as well, where he referred to Beth as “something you love”. She’s not an object that people can love or have their way with.

I am convinced that Dean’s gun will be utilised within the story at some point, although whether it will be used by him is up for debate.

When he walks into the house with the gun and ignores Beth’s questions about about it, only answering when she becomes more insistent, I was struck by the childhishness of Dean’s character.

Let me articulate this for a second.

Let’s compare this scene to the way Dean acts in 2x07, when he refuses to watch the kids after Jane’s dance show and immaturely lashs out at Beth saying that he’s going to book club. It’s not even about putting her in her place. It’s simply petty and it’s childish because their is no goal aside from temporarily annoying her. Just like in this scene. He walks into the house with a huge gun on his shoulder, in a clear attempt to seek attention but then ignores her questions and it comes across as petty and childish; in both scenes, he is akin to a child who can feel that the attention of their parent is wandering and so seeks attention by being as loud and annoying as possible.

There is no back and forth in Beth and Dean’s relationship at all. When Beth dumps cash on Dean and tells him that he doesn’t know her in 1x06, when she ignores his questions at the beginning of 1x07 and tells him to take the kids to Disneyland, she was putting him in his place because, really, he deserved it. When she took away his power in the dealership and he became a house-husband, she was putting him in his place after finding out about his multiple affairs. When Dean takes her kids from her, he was trying to put Beth in her place, essentially saying See. I know you. You’re nothing without our children. 

This is all very different from the back and forth in Beth and Rio’s relationship. Importantly, even though Beth and Rio are always trying to get a leg over each other (metaphorically and often physically haha) and even though they do try and sweep the rug out from one another, it’s less about wielding power over the other person than it is about wielding power over each other (I know what I mean in my own head lol). It’s that they enjoy it when the other person gets a leg over them, they enjoy the heated looks and even enjoy the gleefulness from the other person. It’s all a part of their process. Even when Beth and Rio seek attention from one another (Beth taking the pills from the cars and Rio mailing her body parts), it’s less about the end result of having the other person’s attention focused on them or having power over them; it’s more about imagining how they they will look, how they will feel, how they will react when they find out. All of it’s important. It’s all foreplay.

Also, it was one bullet Dean. Not a full clip.   

Before Dean kisses Beth, he says “We were so good with him gone.” Honestly, that line felt like the 100th nail in the coffin haha. Dean just doesn��t get Beth and he doesn’t understand that there is a lack of emotional intimacy in their relationship. He hasn’t picked up on the fact that she’s actually experienced a regression on a personal level; she’s wrapped herself up in the comfort of her familiar life, with her kids, her house and her husband only after Rio’s death. The only reason he felt they were good was because they were having sex, even if it was for all the wrong reasons on Beth’s part. Even then, he classes it as good because it was sex with him.

The reality is that all this matters less than the simple truth, which is that Rio isn’t gone anymore. He’s back. And Dean knows, as stupid as he is, that it’s only a matter of time.

As for the scene where Dean kisses Beth. Here are all the ways it contrasts Beth and Rio’s kiss in 2x09 (all the ways I can think of anyway). Sorry. Not sorry.

I’d like to point out that Dean walks exactly 3 steps towards Beth, before stopping and taking her jacket from her. The same number of steps that Beth took towards Rio in her bedroom. The same number of steps that Rio took towards Beth. And notably, the same number of steps that Beth did not take towards Dean in this scene.

Yes, Beth kissed Dean back and participated in the kiss itself. But she did not participate at all in the lead-up which is, arguably, just as important. When Beth kissed Rio, the mutual nerves, tenderness and affection were a huge part of the scene. In other words, the lead-up was just as important as the kiss itself. That was very much lacking here. I suppose one could argue that this is not Beth and Dean’s first kiss but it certainly is their first on-screen kiss and presumably the first kiss they have shared in a long time. For all intents and purposes, it should be like a ‘first kiss’ because it’s their first kiss after all the betrayals, lies and disdain.

This scene, like Beth and Rio’s, takes place in daylight but, it’s different in basically every other way. Dean grabs Beth and sort of positions her head to directly face him. When Beth leaned in to kiss Rio in her bedroom, he angles his head just right and very slighly inches his head closer. For her. Beth doesn’t even do that for Dean. He leans in and kisses her and she doesn’t actually do anything to make that easier for him, nothing to indicate that she wants him to.

The music also sounds very...young, for lack of a better word. Almost high school. I think that was a very purposeful choice, given that this is the first on-screen kiss between Beth and Dean. In this scene, I definitely saw them more as they probably were when they were in high school, before they got married. There was a notable lack of any music in the scene where Beth and Rio kiss. Honestly, the scene just didn’t need any.

Christina was amazing here. After Dean releases her, her head kind of just disappointedly falls away and she opens her eyes and looks a little bit...defeated. Perhaps because she didn’t feel more or enjoy the kiss. Because it was Dean. And god, then the scene cuts to Rio coming into Paper Porcupine and the most sexually loaded, non-sex scene in the history of television....although every one of Beth and Rio’s scenes feels that way to be honest. The fact that the episode ended here, on a climactic note when Rio scrutinises the money Beth finishes making, says a lot.

The Hills (including 3x05)

I LOVED this storyline. It’s such a great way of exploring the way that Ruby’s guilt over committing crimes has gradually transitioned into a lack of guilt for the crimes that she has become ‘used to’, i.e: robberies, lying. It’s also such a great callback to a common theme in this show, “All this stuff you think you’re keeping from them. You’re not”. The fact that this was said by Ruby in season 1 and is once again coming full circle is peak writing. Also, this means that another one of my hiatus wishes has come true, that the kids would find out more or be suspicious of their parents. I wondered if it would be Kenny, Sadie or Sara who would catch on. Looks like it’s Sara. Lidya Jewett was the perfect one of the children to explore this through because she is such an amazing actress and Sara’s already had an introduction to this arc, due to Stan being arrested in the last season and her having to grapple with the fact that he did indeed commit a crime.

And look, I am the last person who wants to see Ruby and Stan fight. But I think it’s such an important arguement for them to have. Not the fact that Ruby’s committing crimes but the fact that she seems so comfortable with it now and that this is potentially becoming a model for learned behaviour for their children. The only people they love more than each other are their children.

Lidya Jewett did such a great job portraying the audaciousness and the brattiness of a teen when they are confronted by a parent calling out their behaviour. The tit for tat between Sara and Ruby was amazing. Like nuh uh, you may be right about the shady ass stuff I’ve been up to but I’m still the queen in this house. So now you owe me.

I also love the idea that Beth and Ruby have learnt so much from crime-ing. In 3x02, Beth taught Annie a lesson about how they had to deal with the mover ASAP or all the criminals in Detroit would know that they were pushovers. In this episode, Ruby teaches Sara that when you lie once, you need to know that you’ll be lying a dozen more times just to uphold your original story. It’s never over.

In 3x05, I was like why u do dis? I love this storyline and I don’t think that Stan will leave Ruby but god, the idea that Ruby is so terrified of it in Beth’s van, and for good reason, is actually scaring me. The stills from 3x07 and the hints Reno gave that we would find out how Stan feels about Beth have me shaking. I’m so excited but scared at the same time.

Annie

This is probably the first episode where I felt as though Annie’s therapy storyline really found its feet. I’m going to ignore the fact that retinoblastomas mainly only occur in children. Aside from that, it really found its feet haha.

I also just loved the humour of Annie’s scenes in this episode. Mae Whitman is amazing and her delivery is always fantastic. I genuinely think that her long-winded speech in the pawn shop about how she spent her night is one of my favourite comedic moments of the season so far. What a great callback to Annie’s gazelle run when she’s chasing down Mary Pat!

Oh god. When she was asking Dr Cohen about what was going on between them, I was physically cringing because I knew she was going to smash into a brick wall. It was painful to watch. Stop gal, stop.

It was also painful to see Dr Cohen ruthlessly lay out Annie’s psychological coping mechanisms in front of her, partly because it was coming from a place of genuine concern and care and she knew it.

Beth and Rio (Will I ever write a reasonable amount in this section? Nope.)

Gosh, the entire scene leading up to Beth and Rio in the bar and that scene in itself was peak television. Suspenseful, intense, a good back and forth between characters with unbelievable chemistry. I genuinely think that this is one of the scenes in the show that best depicts the ‘dark’ in dark comedy and the ‘drama’ in dramedy, which are usually the genres used to describe the show.

I don’t know what everyone else views as their favourite ‘dark’/’dramatic’ moments in the show? Their are many scenes which I feel really capture the themes above but some of them are:

1. 1x04 - When the girls hear a thump from the bedroom Eddie’s recovering in and they run upstairs only for him to confront them with a gun.

2. 1x06 - Boomer plants drugs in Annie’s locker, Beth dumps bags of cash on Dean.

3. 1x07 - Rio and his boys confront the girls in Beth’s house.

4. 1x09 - Beth and Rio’s first break-up scene in 1x09.

5. 1x10/2x01 - “If you wanna be the king, you gotta kill the king.”

6. 2x07 - Beth and Rio argue in the alley.

7. ....you get the point. Maybe I should write a separate post all about this?

Now this bar scene (3x04) and the entire sequence with Rio, Lucy, his boys and the girls at paper porcupine and outside the van (3x05) are included on my list of amazing ‘dark’/’dramatic’ scenes.

I’d also like to acknowledge the piano music in this scene, which is also present during the scene in Paper Porcupine in 3x05, while Rio waits patiently for Lucy to complete her counterfeit money design. It’s a stunning piece of music and it adds so much suspense to the scenes. I hope it’s released at some point!  

First of all, we have Beth and Dean lying in bed. Everything about this screams that Dean is intruding, from his loud snores, to the way he’s leaning so far into her side of the bed, to the way that Beth is looking out of her French doors, away from him, and clearly thinking about what she’s going to do with regards to Rio. I spoke about this in my 3x02 thoughts post but ever since Beth and Rio began orbiting around one another, ever since their fascination with one another began (god, basically from the beginning), Dean has been consistently displayed as intruding on their relationship, despite the fact that he and Beth are still technically married and he’s always ranting about how Rio is wrecking and ‘intruding’ in on their lives. Beth and Rio have always had a tangible intimacy that’s unbelievably loud in their relationship, even before they slept together. It always feels like any voices aside from their own, any person besides them is an intrusion when they’re together or thinking about eachother.

Beth lies in bed, next to Dean, and thinks about Rio before running away from her husband and her house to see him under the cover of darkness. It feels intimate and loaded with implications. It’s absolutely driven by fear and her desire to survive but the set-up of the scene is inherently romantic. It’s akin to someone sneaking out to see their lover whom they’re having an affair with.

I could wax poetic about how much I love this scene in its entirety. When Good Girls is good, it’s fucking good. The way that Beth is frightened and then annoyed with Mick for saying something behind her when she’s the one running around at ridiculous o’clock, the imposing figure he cuts as he smokes, the way he considers her. Just. All. Of. This. I love all of Beth and Rio’s scenes, including the ones that take place during the day. But gosh, there’s just something about the scenes that take place in the dark that I find dangerous and addictive.

Rio walks into his bar, briefly nods at the bartender and greets Mick. But as soon as he sees Beth, he can’t look away from her. He doesn’t look at Mick as they clasp hands, his lips part and stay that way as he looks at her AND if you look closely, for a brief second, he stands taller and very slightly pushes his shoulders back before walking towards her.

While they are sitting at the bar together, Rio is depicted as exhausted and conflicted. This shot is stunning:

Their conversaion is so well done. Rio sceptically eyeing Beth’s finished drink and only suggesting that she slow down when she asks for a shot of tequila, his hand gently coming down on top of hers, the way he looks at her as he waits for an answer. It’s such a stark contrast to the way Dean treats her. Even now, after everything.

“One for my baby daddy here too.” SCREAMS. OMG BETH. I adore her.

God. The acting. Beth’s face when she looks at Rio after saying “I lost it”, a sort of confused and hesitant realisation that he looks affected by it, by her words. I still waver on whether or not Rio believed that Beth was indeed pregnant. To sum up what I think is going through Rio’s mind in this scene:

1. He has no reason at this point to doubt the words of Rhea’s OBGYN. In other words, it’s entirely possible that following the appointment, he grappled with the idea that Beth was pregnant with his child, conceived during an encounter fraught with emotions in her bedroom and before she shot him three times. It’s possible that he forced himself to be pragmatic, process it and accept it, only for Beth to suffer a miscarriage. There’s a feeling of mourning in the way that Rio regards Beth with his hand over his mouth, the quiet, sensitive way in which he asks when it happened, the way he looks at his palms on the bar counter, the way he tosses back the shot of tequila.

2. The loss of the pregnancy ultimately means that he’s lost the one reason, the single excuse he had to keep Beth alive. I don’t doubt that he could have killed her in the moments when he first saw her again, after the time he spent simmering, plotting and remembering. But now she’s under his skin again. God, she never even left but now she’s probably curled up somewhere inside of him all over again. It’s so obvious in the way that he says “nothing good” that he doesn’t want to kill her, that he’s tired and doesn’t want to even think about it anymore.

Following this, the writers did an amazing job with the back and forth between Beth and Rio in this scene. Beth is desperate and yet so audacious in suggesting that Rio needs money, that he should take another chance on her. I love her when she’s like this, when she’s clawing and doing her best to survive. And the way that Rio huffs an unamused laugh through pursed lips, almost as though he’s thinking, shit I’m doing this again aren’t I? I’m letting her talk? Except we all know she’s not talking him into anything. He’s just looking for an excuse. If anything, to me, he seems unamused with the traitorous part of himself that is listening to her for the sole reason of avoiding the necessity of killing her.

“You couldn’t afford it.” What a backhanded compliment. Rio can’t place a price on Beth’s head because even he struggles to deal with what her personal worth is to him, what she actually means to him, so I love that he ultimately just caves and throws out an arbitrary $100K which is much less than he has previously requested from her. I also love that Beth just focuces purely on the money and ignores the true implications of what he’s saying because it’s too much, it’s too loaded and neither of them have ever been able to contend with whatever’s between them, this thing that is indescribable.

As for the final scene of the episode. I don’t know if I can rationally articulate my thoughts on this but I’m going to do my best.

First of all, I love the idea of Beth and Rio watching each other when the other person isn’t aware of it. So when Rio enters paper porcupine and slowly walks towards her while Beth is rifling through items, unaware that he’s behind her, it just does something to me. I love it.

Also, I love the way they almost circle one another until Beth stops on the other side of the table in between them. They are so often depicted to be standing across from one another. Forever waiting for the day where they stand side by side against a common enemy.

When Rio alludes to Beth doing some custom-printing for him and she immediately catches on, she looks at him with her big, blue eyes and her voice is so feminine when she says “I don’t know what you’re talking about”. God, you can’t convince me Rio isn’t into that.

I’m not going to talk about the music too much just because this is getting too long and the fandom is already obsessed with the song anyway. The lyrics are a complete revelation and the song was, of course, purposefully chosen. I loved the entire song and the implications for Beth and Rio’s relationship but one part I particularly love:

“Though we sleep in different beds You still keep me up at night”

God, Beth lay awake next to Dean, thinking of what she was going to say to Rio, before running away to see him. There’s no way Rio doesn’t lie awake at night and think about Beth. I. Just. Can’t. This is already getting too long.

The youtube video that went up for this scene sums it up pretty well. Rio really does look pretty mesmerised by Beth in this scene. She looks at him apprehensively because she’s afraid of him and fearful for her operation but she keeps doing it because he makes her nervous, because she likes looking at him, because she likes it when he watches her, because she feels something for him and it’s all just too much because he’s watching her, just like he always has but she’s never gotten used to it. GAHHHH.

I also just love interpreting this scene after watching 3x05, when Dean says twice that Beth is “something you (Rio) love”. Beth refutes that at the end of the episode, saying Rio loves money. But here we have all three things, Beth, Rio and money in one scene. And yes, Rio’s watching Beth make money but he also can’t look away from her.

Just look at this shot. Beth and Rio facing each other, as they often do, at equal heights, with the money symbolically positoned between them. It’s not just something that separates them though. It’s something they share if that makes sense. It’s something they both care about but you can care about more than one thing.

And looks like Rio found another excuse to keep her alive. I mean, he had already found one, by demanding 100K but this is now something he can directly participate in and benefit from. Something long-term that keeps them tied together, rather than a one-off payment. He just can’t help himself, can he? They can’t let each other go.

I don’t know where else to put this. But seeing Beth wearing glasses was...life-changing.

Moving on to 3x05.

The Opening Scene and Mick

STOP SAYING GOOD MORNING AND STOP TALKING. DON’T SAY ANYTHING. I CAN’T DEAL WITH YOUR VOICE MICK.

Ahem. We also met more of Rio’s boys which means another one of my hiatus wishes came true. I’m really curious to meet Rio’s bosses, who Manny has said we will learn more about in this season, and what the debts he needs to repay are, which he alluded to in the sneak peek from 3x06 (THE ANGST). I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact that we was out of the game for so long or maybe because people have found out that he fed Turner names, or both?

I love smart Beth. Taking the plates used to make the counterfeit money as a precautionary measure was really important but also just...kind of tragic. I’m going to talk more about this later (see Paper Porcupine and the Shooting).

Also, how freaking loaded was that scene where Beth tries to pay Mick to buy more time? When she said “what if I made it up to you?”, my jaw dropped. Not even exaggerating. And when he said “it’d be a huge order”, I straight up scream-cackled. This 100% backs up the idea that Beth is legitimately the most oblivious person in the world and would totally get into a bunch of awkward situations just because she’s misunderstood somebody else or because she’s said something sexual without even realising it. I. Require. All. That. Fanfic.

I completely agree with @foxmagpie here. I just don’t think that Mick has or will betray Rio. 100K is a relatively small sum of money, given the context. We know that Rio only asked this of Beth because it was an excuse to avoid killing her. For Mick, this is nowhere near enough money to risk his life or his position as (presumably) Rio’s right hand man. And let’s be honest, in the crime world, who are you going to place your bet on? Beth or Rio? I know who I would choose.

Annie 

I freaked when I saw Kevin again because I didn’t expect him to show up after 3x01 but there you go! I genuinely love this though because I didn’t think he was homeless and it just shows you that you really can’t know what’s going on in someone’s life until they tell you. It really hit me hard when he said “I’m experiencing homelessness” because it could happen to anyone. It really reminded me of a news article I read about, about individuals who are homeless but aren’t necessarily sleeping on the streets; instead, they are couch surfing or sleeping in their cars but they feel as though they have no stability, no place they can call their own and as though they have been forgotten about by society.

This show is so good at introducing tertiary characters!

Dean, The Fish and “Something you love” (Did I make this about Beth and Rio again? You’re goddamn right I did.)

So, I’m assuming the three dead fish are symbolic of Beth, Ruby and Annie. The fact that Dean was responsible for killing them is, I feel, more symbolically indicative of the consequences of him breaking the plate in this episode alone. I actually think that when Beth says “How much did you feed them?” and Dean replies “Too much”, this is more indicative of the over-arching plot for the season and really the whole show. The idea that greed, money, and for Beth, the rush, are going to be what ultimately hurts them and potentially lead them to their ruin.

Dean really pissed me off in this scene. I was clutching my head and cursing him. Every little thing pissed me off, from the way that he slammed the drawers shut, to the way he held the plate higher up, to his slighted masculinity when he said “he didn’t waste any time, did he?” Even though he knows that Beth has been willingly involved in crime, he continues to completely underestimate her. He just assumes that Rio offers up opportunities and Beth can’t resist. He cannot wrap his mind around the concept of Beth coming up with ideas and executing them; if anything, it’s Rio who can’t resist.

I gasped when Dean said “something you love”. I think this has been very controversial in the fandom. @foxmagpie answered an ask and wrote a brilliant analysis here, which I would highly recommend reading. Following the season 2 finale, I answered an ask here about Beth and Rio’s feelings for one another and I feel a little bit vindicated write now, not because I think I’m right (their feelings are so complex and completely up for interpretation at this stage) but because I agreed with my initial assessment.

I think some people might be tempted to write off what Dean said as inaccurate, simply because it’s Dean who said it. Dean is often an unreliable narrator when it comes to Beth and Rio’s relationship. His view is tainted by jealousy, misogyny and the need to take ownership over Beth as his wife again. However, he did manage to catch on to the fact that Rio treats Beth differently (Rio flaunting the relationship he has with Beth in front of Dean in 1x10/2x01), that Beth slept with Rio and was using him as a poor replacement (2x06), that Beth and Rio have a relationship that is more than just sex (before Beth brutally emasculated him by saying she just really likes having sex with Rio in 2x11). In season 2, he did eventually see that, fundamentally, Beth and Rio are addicted to one another. So, I don’t think we can write off what Dean is saying in 3x05.

As for whether or not I think Rio is in love with Beth.

I need to explain the way that I view love, in the capacity that we use it to describe the feelings that an individual can have for another person. I find myself consistently surprised by the number of people around me who talk about emotions as being incredibly complex but then act as though you either love something or you don’t or, when it comes to romantic relationships on screen, if it isn’t love then it can only be lust or desire or an obsession. Personally, I view love as a spectrum emotion and I actually think most people view it in the same way, that you can feel varying degrees and intensities of it. It sounds obvious and that’s because it totally is. As an example, I think it’s absolutely possible to be a little bit in love with someone.

So, there’s a diagram I remembered from one of my lectures and I think it’ll help me articulate the way I view Beth and Rio’s feelings for one another. The short answer is that I thought they were a little in love with one another in the second half of season 2 and I actually still agree with that but I think it’s been buried under an avalance of trauma and betrayal.

Of course, I’m not going to include the original image from my lecture (which depicts the spectrum and crossover of mood and psychotic disorders) but here’s a stock image that depicts a similar idea:

Now, I think the obvious way to look at this is to stick love on one side and hate on the other, as they are classically considered to be ‘opposing’ emotions, and then something neutral like indifference in the middle.

Personally, I agree with the idea that indifference is the opposite of love and so I’d like to place indifference on one end, hate in the middle and love on the other end, especially when it comes to considering Beth and Rio’s relationship. I’d justify placing hate in the middle because it is an intense emotion, whereas indifference is literally nothing and these two have never been indifferent towards one another, no matter how much time Rio spends on his phone when he’s with Beth. The way I see it, Beth and Rio rapidly slide up and down the part of the spectrum between love and hate and those emotions never have time to settle so that they can be acknowledged as one or the other.

(sorry this is so bad)

I guess what I’m trying to say is that, even at this point in their relationship, the majority of viewers cannot point to the middle of this spectrum and say that Rio definitively hates Beth or vice versa. Nor can we point at love and say the same. I don’t even think we could point vaguely in between. I’d personally be continuously sliding my finger up and down the spectrum between those two points.

I think Manny worded it perfectly in his interveiew, “They hate each other but want to be each other. They hate each other but want to be with each other.”

Lucy, Paper Porcupine and The Shooting

I’m going to just put this in here because this scene was so dark (and very well done in my opinion). But Rio is such a little shit! Look at his face after antagonising Beth:

God sake. Check yourself Rio. Your boys, Ruby and Annie are all watching and it’s so obvious that you’re like straight up thinking about your crush.

Even though I loved the fact that Beth thought ahead and took the plates, upon rewatching the episode it all felt so futile and painful. It really felt like so many of the Beth’s actions took Lucy to that moment. I know we’re all thinking the same thing, that Dean unknowingly triggered all of this when he broke the plate. But the reality is that even if Dean hadn’t broken the plate, it’s likely that Rio would have eventually gone straight to the source of the design. From the moment Beth chose to bring her into this, Lucy’s fate was sealed. It’s heartbreaking.

I absolutely agree with @sothischickshe when she said that Beth knew that something was going to go down. She looks at Lucy so much in this scene, with fear, with guilt but also with an almost intuitive grief. I don’t think she knew that Rio was going to kill her but I do think she had a feeling or a thought clawing at the back of her mind, that something terrible was going to happen to Lucy.

Rio orders Beth to go with Lucy, telling her to “be smart”. He still has Ruby and Annie with him and he knows that Beth would never abandon them. He makes her choose between Lucy and Ruby & Annie in this scene; when she chooses not to ask Mrs Harris for help, when she chooses to beg Lucy not to finish the plate rather than telling her to run out of the store, she is essentially choosing Ruby & Annie.

So much of this scene was about Rio punishing Beth for what she has done, by taking what she had built, ordering her to go with Lucy and forcing her to share in the responsibility of what was about to happen. Because he hasn’t been able to kill her and he knows he’ll never be able to. But I also think it was about proving a point to Beth and here’s why.

Beth shot Rio for many reasons but a lot of it was about the situation she had been placed in and the pressing need to just do something in the ‘heat of the moment’. She has never been able to kill any of her rotten eggs when she had time to plan how to do it. Even when she hit Boomer in the back of the head in 1x01, it is was in the ‘heat of the moment’. She is bound by the moral barrier that separates a murder (i.e: intent, sometimes premeditated) from voluntary manslaughter (i.e: when provoked, in the moment.) I know Beth shot Rio two more times after the initial thought and I may write another post all about that. But now is not the time. For all intents and purposes, Beth cannot kill someone after definitively making that decision in advance.

Something that I’m so struck by with the sequence in Paper Porcupine is how long it is. It’s obviously this long to build tension but it really highlights to me the length of time Rio had to consider his options and decide what he was going to do. Even the scene outside the van was long; he had time to back out of killing Lucy but, unlike Beth, he did not balk. And because of that, he proved to Beth that he can do it all.

He’s basically saying look, I can kill someone before they even have the chance to go rotten.

Obviously, we know that Beth is Rio’s rotten egg and Rio knows it too (that’s why he’s punishing Beth in this scene). But Beth has never allowed herself to believe it. She thinks it’s all about the money.

Oh god. Don’t even get me started on the implications of Rio grabbing Lucy’s hand to help her into the van and looking over at Beth as he says “ma girl”. Yes, we get it Rio. Beth’s your girl.

@pynkhues​  pointed out that Rio has a kind of honeytrap language that Beth is starting to recognise and you can just tell from the way that Beth closes her eyes that she knows the situation is escalating and that something is imminently going to happen.

This scene is so interesting when you stop and pause and just look at Beth and Rio’s faces. Because Beth is desperately trying to justify why Rio should keep them alive. She keeps looking at his face and then prompting Ruby and Annie to speak and answer her questions, so she can prove their worth. And then, at the very end, she sort of tacks Lucy on as an afterthought and it’s just tragic. It was over for Lucy already but, even so, Beth basically gave a speech about their value vs Lucy’s value.

And I totally agree with everyone else. Rio did not look like he was being convinced by what Beth was saying at all. I mean, he definitely had heart-eyes (haha, they’re both idiots) but he didn’t look like he was really considering what she was saying, rather he seemed more like he was impressed by what he was seeing, almost falling into the habit of staring at her as intensely as he always has. He was definitely just letting her talk so he could put a bullet in Lucy and deal with someone in front of his boys and the girls.

Rio

We already knew this but Manny and the writers have really doubled down on how charming, personable and downright sinister Rio can be as a character. His smiles come easily when he’s questioning the mover in 3x04 and interacting with Lucy, he jokes around with them and exerts an effortless control over both situations.  Perhaps even more importantly, his smiles are real in these moments. It’s become very obvious that Rio enjoys it all. It’s fun for him. Just like Beth, he gets a kick out of crime and is pretty unhinged.

As for him shooting Lucy, a completely innocent woman whom he knew Beth had dragged into this. Well, I agree with what a lot of people have already said; I think it was in character. I mean, this is the man who sat and messed about on his phone while his boys waiting on the order to kill the girls in 1x02. This is the guy who killed Eddie, somebody he presumably knew well considering the fact that Eddie only called his mum aside from Rio. This is the guy who shot Dean, who we as an audience hate but who really had nothing to do with Beth’s plot to have Rio arrested. This is the guy who didn’t just have Agent Turner killed but a slew of other FBI agents. Interestingly, of all these characters, the only one aside from Lucy who was unwittingly brought into the crime world was Dean and Rio still shot him. I don’t think this was an attempt on the writers’ parts to make us hate Rio because let’s be honest, the vast majority of us will continue to love his character and they know it. This is who he is and none of us can lie to ourselves anymore. I think that’s good.

The Ending

I loved it! Annie seeking comfort from the people they love, the people who support them. And Beth not being able to do that. God, she looks exhausted and two seconds from falling to pieces in that last scene and Dean is such a narcissist that he can’t see it. All he cares about is Rio, not the effect all of this is having on Beth.

When Beth says that she also really hates being around Rio again and Dean questions her, “really?”, it’s the only thing he can focus on when it comes to her. Like once Rio stuck his dick inside Beth, she wasn’t just her anymore, she was only a person with relation to Rio. Ewwwww Dean. Go away.

Also, it’s so telling that Beth couldn’t repeat herself when Dean questioned her. God, even after Rio ordered Mick to shoot Lucy, she can’t lie about it. She’s such a good liar but, in this scene, she’s so exhausted that she can’t even put in the effort.

God, Christina was amazing. Her watery blue eyes, her forced smiles and pained expressions. I felt like I had been stabbed in the heart when Max said “except for you” and that Beth was Lucy’s only friend. I feel terrible for Max and completely agree with Lucy! He is totally awesome.