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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( SWEET MAGNOLIAS. )

He was your unlikely muse; you were the weird girl in the park. Could you make it any more obvious?

pairing. myg x named f!reader. s2l.

genre + rating. college!au. fluff, angst, smut. explicit.

tags / warnings. light cussing, yoongi being rightfully weirded out, a whole lotta softness, sadness if you squint at the right times, body painting, and then, of course, the most tender, dumbest lovemaking (unprotected but don’t be silly like them!). there’s also a really bad callback to the titanic. i’m not sorry. lol.

wc. 8.2k

You try not to stare for too long, sweeping your gaze in wide circles so as to be as inconspicuous as possible. You try not to let your eyes linger, follow the contours of his cheeks - soft, pronounced when he smiles - or the shape of his mouth - delicate, petal pink. You try not to make it weird - but it’s decidedly, very weird.

You just can’t help yourself.

He’s always here around this time, laid out on a worn red blanket. Sometimes, he reads. Books like The Alchemist and the Stranger and once, Dante’s Inferno. Other times, he pops a pair of headphones on - oversized, intimidatingly large over his ears - and closes his eyes. Most rare of all, is when he’s not alone, joined at the hip by at least one other boy and on occasion, an entire group of six.

They’re all interesting in their own ways.

There’s one with shoulders the size of boulders, a mountain range situated beneath his shirts. He has a weird laugh that sounds like windshield wipers and your mother’s spring cleaning routine. He yells a lot and even across the lawn, you can sometimes make out his voice.

There’s the tallest one, with kind eyes and dimples so deep you question if there’s treasure buried in them. He reads a lot, too. You’ve seen him in the library more times than you can count, always dutifully tucked away in a back corner surrounded by scattered looseleaf. Despite the course load he seems to have taken on, you’ve never seen him lose his cool. You have seen him lose his phone, though, and pencils and textbooks and AirPods.

There’s Hoseok, whose name you only know because he held your hair once at a fall sorority party. You hadn’t been drinking but somehow, somehow, your roommate had convinced you to apple bob with her. He’d been gracious enough to help you out, fisting your hair in a gentle grip. It’s what spurred you to now always have an elastic on your wrist.

There’s the dancer. He’s slight and even in stillness, far more graceful than you’ll ever be. He’s got pillowy lips and hair that gleams like silk. You’ve sketched him too, once or twice, but never more. It just didn’t feel right - as if you’d never be able to translate that sort of beauty onto paper.

There’s the one from your Art 340 Drawing II class. You’ve wondered, on more than one occasion, how come he isn’t the model. He’s got perfect proportions - defined jaw, strong nose, cheekbones carved from marble. It’s almost off-putting seeing him in person; it feels far more fitting for him to be displayed in a museum, with a plaque that reads Perfection, Mixed Media.

There’s the youngest one, Jungkook. They call him maknae despite the fact that he dwarfs nearly all of them. Maybe it’s just the clothes he wears: boots that look like they’d break your neck and everything in slightly darker shades of black. You run into him at least four times a week - trading greetings at the campus coffee shop and at the library. You’re practically best pals by college standards.

And then, of course, there’s him. Your muse. The one you can’t help but stare at - even when you’re trying your hardest not to. The one who wears glasses though you’re almost certain he doesn’t need them. The one whose smile is more gums than teeth, who looks unassuming and yet often breaks out into the strangest, most inspired dance moves you’ve ever seen. The one who plays recreational basketball on Tuesday nights and who drinks more coffee than you think should be humanly possible.

Min Yoongi.

You sketch him like you’ll never see him again, dragging charcoal strokes across paper until your hand is muddied and the curve of his ear is looking worse for wear. You repeat lines over and over, turning the mop of his hair into ringlets and waves, weaving dimension through the india ink that spills over his eyes. You sometimes add his glasses; you’re quite fond of the look on him.

You paint him sometimes, too, imagining how he’d look with periwinkle blue hair, or maybe dressed in shades of maroon. You swath him in textured fabrics and lovely watercolours, turning him into a fantasy that’ll never see the light of day. Pretty little daydreams with him fixed at the centre.

You fill your pages with his figure, the way he smiles when Hoseok does something silly or how he joins in when Jungkook laughs. You study every bit and piece, learning him in every admiring way you can - despite the fact that you don’t really know him at all.

It’s a staggering lesson in futility but one you take almost daily, armed with pencil and paper and not a single ounce of common sense.

That is, until you’ve done the stupidest thing imaginable.

No, not getting caught. Not in the traditional sense, at least. He hasn’t realised you sit on your bench - yes, your bench, with the sticky metal arm rest and illegible initials scratched into the back - and watch him almost every day. You thank your lucky stars for that.

What you’ve done is much worse - punishable by death by embarrassment.

You have no fucking clue where your sketchbook is.

You could’ve sworn you had it in your bag when you’d returned to your room last night. You can’t imagine you would’ve left it anywhere in the open, orphaning it on a campus full of idiots. You were always so careful. You don’t just lose things.

“I think it’s gone, girl.” You’ve never wanted to yell at your roommate more - not even when you’d caught her and her boyfriend banging in your bed after you’d come home early on the long weekend or when she’d eaten all of your Cherry Garcia ice cream. The desire bubbles about in your chest, fizzing angrily like an agitated soda bottle.

“It’s here somewhere.” The words grit between your teeth, insistent as can be.

“You’ve been looking for like, twenty minutes.”

“It’s here.”

“I really don’t think it is…” Jisoo doesn’t quite deserve how you explode, rounding on her with hands flying and eyes wild. “You’re also going to be late for your class.”

Your words falter with the verbalisation of hers.

Lucky for her; unlucky for you.

The hands of the clock above your desk wave at you mockingly. You are, indeed, going to be late for your class.

“Shit! Shit!” Everything you’d torn out gets shoved back into your tote bag. Band-Aids, mints, too many wayward pencils and pens. You almost forget your phone, attention only drawn to it when Jisoo catches the strap of your backpack and yanks you back.

“Don’t forget,” she hums, far more kindly than your harebrained self deserves.

You forget all the reasons you’re upset with her. “Thanks, Ji.” You force a kiss on her cheek before you’re darting out of your room and sprinting across campus to Art 340.

“Nice of you to join us, Miru.” It’s your professor greeting you as you run in fifteen minutes late, weaving through other students to find your seat near the far wall. Laughter follows you, coiling around your ankles and over your shoulders as you settle into your seat, fully hidden behind the oversized easel.

You can’t help the scarlet that paints your cheeks, creeping high across your temples. You know no one cares - that Professor Kinsella is probably the most laidback professor you’ve had in your four semesters - but it can’t be stopped. You’re already flustered from temporarily misplacing your sketchbook that everything else just feels like shit icing on your garbage cake.

“Sorry!” It squeaks out - a mouse, eaten up wholly by cat-ate-the-canary laughter that sounds over your shoulder and not very quietly.

“Having a bad day?”

You’ve heard the voice a handful of times so it shouldn’t shock you the way it does, nearly knocking the graphite from your hand.

“What?”

Kim Taehyung’s on the edge of his chair, one long leg stretched toward you, the other balanced across his knee. You’re not sure how that’s meant to be comfortable but he makes it look effortless. Then again, looking like him, living probably was effortlessly. You can’t deny you’re a little envious.

“Your face is all red. You’re out of breath. Feels like a bad day to me.”

You try not to dwell on the fact that, apparently, you look like an absolute mess. “No, I’m good.” It sounds fake even to your ears, tinny and wrought with anxiety.

“You sure?” He’s not really paying attention to you as he speaks, tracing the contours of the model across his canvas. He begins where you’d never think to, framing the main masses with a languid twist of his wrist. Unlike you, he doesn’t get caught up in the detail; he sees the bigger picture for all it is, building from the outside in.

You’re watching him for longer than you realise, whipping back around once it dawns on you. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“Who knows.” There’s a playfulness in his tone that sets you on edge. You’ve never heard it before, all rounded vowels and molasses laughter. You mean to work as you listen, waiting for some indication of whatever lies just beneath the surface.

It’s a mistake. Your stick of charcoal snaps in half when he continues, low and slow as if he’s dragging it out.

“—maybe you lost a sketchbook?”

“Did you say…” You can’t finish the sentence. You feel like you’re about to be sick.

The amount of mischief in his expression should be illegal. It’s dancing in his eyes, curling wide and unabashed over his lips. It’s practically radiating off of him.

“So, bad day?”

He waits for you to pack up, hands tucked into the endless pockets of his black slacks. At any other time, in any other universe, you’d be giddy. Girls on campus would kill for even a second of Taehyung’s attention.

(It’s true - you’d heard a group of them talking about it one time.)

Here and now, you want to sink six feet under.

“They’re really good, you know.” As if the compliment will dull the mortification that threatens to cleave you in half. “You’re really good at capturing his boredom. That’s not easy.”

“Thanks.” You should make conversation; it’s the polite thing to do.

After all, he was kind enough to find and return your sketchbook. Better him than someone else, right? Better him than Yoongi himself? That’s what you tell yourself, at least.

Yoongi doesn’t know and therefore, it’s okay. Semi okay. Distantly related to the idea of okay.

As if he can read your mind, Taehyung speaks gently, with a hand that burns through the linen of your blouse. You know he means well but it sears white hot, eviscerating your nerve endings. “You have nothing to worry about. I didn’t tell him.”

You don’t answer him. There’s nothing to say - not really. You’re far too lost in your own thoughts to acknowledge the effort he’s making. Maybe this was life’s way of telling you to back off - to find another person to paint.

Or maybe it’s brought you two together, says the silly, naive angel on your shoulder.

You’re ready to flick her off - launch her like some kind of poor Tinkerbell - when your name catches your attention. It’s announced so dramatically that you double take, making sure you haven’t completely run through a picnic or accidentally slammed into someone.

“This is Miru.”

Cognisance comes slow and unhurried, even as your stare swivels wildly in search of context clues.

Laid out before you, right under that familiar magnolia tree, is one blanket, three bodies, and enough takeout to last you an entire week.

“Ohf, phey!” With cheeks stuffed full, it’s hard to make out the two syllables. They crowd against each other, offered in a garbled mess that has you regarding Jungkook with a mixture of concern and confusion. He’s swallowing thickly before he rises far too quickly; you watch a forgotten piece of kimbap go flying, lost to the dirt and bugs. “Sorry. Hi.”

“Do you want to join us?” It’s the angelic one, fitted with cherubic cheeks and a rounded Cupid’s bow. “I’m Jimin, by the way.” He pats the empty space beside him, eyes waning into crescents with the force of his friendliness.

Taehyung had asked if you wanted to grab dinner but you’d never imagined he meant this.

You’ve never been subtle but you try your damnedest to peek at him from your periphery. Unfortunately for you, he’s already sat down, fully made himself comfortable beside the last member of the group.

The one who, for all intents and purposes, appears as if he’d rather be anywhere but here. If looks could kill, you think.

“Don’t worry about him,” Jimin says, so sweetly, with a small bento lid held towards you. It’s already stacked with goodies - a selection of banchan and homemade-looking meatballs sitting alongside a poorly-shaped mound of rice. “Sometimes, he gets like this.”

You want to believe it. Really, you do, but by the way Yoongi’s mouth curls in distaste, all signs point to it being a matter of you rather than a mood.

“Maybe if she respected peoples’ privacy, I wouldn’t have an issue.”

It’s a single sentence quietly spoken and yet it feels like an open-palm slap to the face. Heat radiates over every visible inch, starkly coloured in contrast to the white of your top. It burns as it licks over your cheeks and past your temples, tipping your ears.

“I’m so sorry.” It isn’t clear who you’re apologizing to, the words tumbling wet off your tongue like a waterfall.

You’re gone before anyone can ask.

“That was a dick move.” Jungkook is the first to break the silence, levelling his friend with a disapproving stare. He’s not used to this side of him - the one that can tear a person apart with just a few words. It’s not the Yoongi he knows. It’s not really Yoongi at all.

“Yeah, hyung.” It’s thinner, but just as reproachful. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

Yoongi’s laugh is dismissive but he won’t meet anyone’s stare - a tell-tale sign that he’s just a little affected by their words - choosing instead to shovel bites of soondae into his mouth. “Mean what? Invading my privacy?”

“She’s an artist.” Taehyung doesn’t mean it as an excuse but by how Yoongi bristles, he’s certain the senior takes it as such. Before the argument can begin, he continues, all while wrapping a piece of samgyupsal in lettuce. “I doubt she meant any harm, so just cut her some slack.” Fringe is flicked away from his eyes, something sparkling in the pretty brown of his irises. “I’d actually be flattered, if I were you.”

“Then you be her model.”

You haven’t drawn in four days. Well, not really.

You’ve completed what you need for classes, filling your books with mandatory figures and notes on colour theory. You’ve diligently mapped out proportions and brought to life sunsets and sceneries. You’ve done everything you should be doing but nothing that you want to be.

It just doesn’t feel right. Not anymore.

“I hear he’s a really nice guy.” You can’t count how many times Jisoo has tried to cheer you up. From picking up your favourite ice cream (the one she tends to devour anyway) to ordering in fried chicken, she’s been the picture perfect roommate. It only makes you feel that much worse.

You were moping over something that was your fault. And she had to pick up the pieces! It seemed wildly unfair but when you’d told her to stop - insisted upon it with a wail into your pillow - she’d simply shook her head and wrapped you in her arms.

For all of your stupid, silly little rows, Kang Jisoo was the best roommate you’d had in your entire university career.

“Just go outside.” She’s perched on the edge of her bed, painting her toes a brilliant shade of neon green. She’d offered to do yours too, but you’ve more or less refused to leave the comfort of your burrito blanket for anything beyond classes or food. “You can’t avoid him forever.”

“I can try,” you mumble, words lost to the cotton of your sheets.

Try - and fail, it seemed. You’d already run into him twice. Twice! Even after you’d started taking absurdly long roundabout routes to your classes, the universe had conspired against you.

The first time he’d been walking out of the gym, shoulder to shoulder with another upperclassmen you didn’t recognize. You’d seen him coming from a mile away thanks to his obnoxiously bright Lakers jersey and you’d booked it back the way you’d come, nearly mowing down a couple making kissy faces at each other in front of the lecture hall.

The second time was yesterday afternoon. You’d thought he’d be in his usual spot - so close to your usual spot - that you’d gone to the coffee shop for a midday pick-me-up. Even embarrassed, you weren’t about to suffer a caffeine deficiency. You’d rounded the corner in the same instance he had and you’d sworn he’d seen you, recognition flickering across his face. Fortunately, there’d been a door directly to your right and you’d all but thrown yourself inside.

It was the first and hopefully last time you’d be in a men’s washroom.

“I thought you were tougher than this,” Jisoo hums, equal parts disapproval and kindness. She levels you with a stare - you can feel it burning into your fortress of blankets - and sighs. It’s a bit dramatic, you think.

“Tell me you wouldn’t be doing the exact same thing!”

Then again, she’d probably never be stupid enough to lose something so important nor would she fixate so heavily on one person. Your point still stands.

“Seriously, girl.”

Her nail polish bottle bounces off your bed, tumbling to the floor with a quiet thump. You look up in time to see her staring at you imploringly, so wide-eyed and innocent you can’t help but be a little suspicious. “What?”

“I wanted to have Andy over.”

It all falls into place then. Her boyfriend’s in a frat and your (poor) dorm room is the only place they have any sort of privacy. It makes you want to gag but you can’t blame her. You’ve always had an unspoken agreement; you’d just tossed it out the window the past few days.

Guilt prompts you to extract yourself from your duvet, though you don’t stop the chorus of gross, gross, gross! as you begin gathering your things. You almost leave your sketchbook, only opting to tuck it under your arm at the last minute.

“Please, please, don’t use my bed this time.”

“We love you!” She sing-songs as you tug your sneakers on and slip into the hallway.

You’re at a different bench across campus when you hear the voice. It comes from behind you and to your left, accusatory and sharp. You nearly jump out of your own skin, toppling over your water bottle and plastic paint palette. Orange watercolour soaks into the material on your thigh. Dammit.

“Are you following me?”

Min Yoongi stands not three feet from you, arms folded over his chest.

Your heart stutters at the sight of him. It’s hard to speak when it feels like it’s leapt into your throat.

“What?” You hate how you sound - a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You have nothing to be ashamed of. At least, not right now. You’d come all the way here, as far from the magnolia tree and red blanket as you could.

“I said—” His words are glacial and biting. It’s suddenly winter, far chillier than spring should be. You wish you’d brought a sweater or maybe, that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You can’t be cold when you’re dead. “—are you following me?”

“Of course not!”

There’s nothing but disbelief in his expression. It paints itself in broad strokes, prominent in the shadows beneath his eyes and the curl of his mouth. He says nothing.

“Really. I’m not.” You’re insistent, apologetic. Every nerve ending is shot, going haywire beneath your skin and lighting you up in shades of red. The tips of your fingers are tingling. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You wonder if he’s baiting you now.

“For…” Words are cherry-picked and perfect, chosen with a shaking head and the utmost care. “I shouldn’t have drawn you without asking.”

“No shit,” he returns, completely deadpan. He’s really not making this any easier.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” you continue, a little hopeful and a lot bashful. “I just— I don’t get inspiration like this that often. So I couldn’t let it go.” You don’t need to add what you do, but you do so anyway, because you’ve never been great at making good choices. “Your face is really unique and when you’re happy, it’s just so expressive and your smile is—”

There’s a siren blaring in your ears. A red alert going off so loudly you almost miss the way he laughs.

It’s not the same one he offers to his best friends - far more reserved, exceedingly softer - but it’s there and it’s real and you don’t think you’ll ever forget this moment.

“You’re laughing.”

He stops immediately. Fair.

“I’m sorry.” Again. More. Draped in apology and optimism that peeks out between your teeth and shines in the dark of your stare. “Even though I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I did, and for that I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

It’s hard to read him, even after you’ve spent hours studying his face. There’s a distinct difference between seeing someone and knowing them, you realize. You might be able to map out every wrinkle of his eyes - replicate every dot and freckle - but you have no idea what it all means or how it comes together to create something more.

Silence fits between the two of you for what feels like a long time. It’s not uncomfortable, though, so you allow it to settle. You figure it’s better than his anger, in any case.

“You could’ve just asked me.”

You can’t wipe the disbelief from your face. “Would you have said yes?”

Yoongi shrugs, a small roll of his shoulders beneath the oversized sweater that dwarfs his frame. “Don’t know, but I would’ve appreciated it.”

Because that’s really what it came down to - the thought, not the action. He’s not entirely sure you understand that yet but he’s willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Blame his softening on the steady repetitions Taehyung and Jungkook have made the past few days. You were lucky to have them in your corner - even if that meant they’d been a thorn in his side.

“Then… can I sketch you?” You’re probably (read: definitely) pushing it. You can’t help it.

He doesn’t know whether to laugh or scoff at your audacity. He decides on the former, with a shake of his head that swings his bangs across his forehead and a small, private smile. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time?” You imagine he can’t hear you as he’s backing away and disappearing the way he came.

“See you tomorrow.”

True to his word, Yoongi lets you draw him the next time you see him (and the next time and the time after that).

It’s different - working off someone who knows they’re being studied. He holds himself a little more stiffly, a little more carefully. His laughter isn’t quite as loud, his smiles more forced. He apologises, even though he doesn’t need to.

Even his untrained eye can see how you struggle to bring life to a robot.

Over time, though, it comes - comfort.

Like the quietly burning coals that melt him down from the inside out, he begins to warm up to you. It comes slowly but it comes nonetheless, as steady as the sun. You appreciate his effort - his patience - more than you can ever say.

You know he gets it, though. He always does. It’s a Yoongi thing.

“You can relax.”

It’s just the two of you, swathed in sweat and waning light that casts shadows across his cheeks. The days are longer than they’ve ever been and the both of you tend to lose track of time, spending hours under that magnolia tree.

“I am relaxed,” he returns, sinking further onto his back, elbows hardly acting to prop him up. He’d been engrossed in a novel for the first half of the afternoon. Another book you’d never bothered to read outside of high school English class. You never really understood it - you much preferred to watch than read - but you loved when he’d recite the words to you, clear and bright and better than any melody.

“You’re trying to stay awake.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No. You’re just as good of a model when you’re sleeping.”

The smile is lazy, hazy like Sunday morning. It reveals his gums and ticks higher on the left side. It makes your heart skip a beat.

“Go ahead then,” he continues. The entirety of his body sags, drops onto the bag he likes to use as a makeshift pillow. You don’t imagine it’s all that comfortable but he never complains.

“If you’re tired, we can just head in, you know.”

You always offer. He never says yes.

A part of you thinks he likes the attention. It’s different from what he receives from anyone else - thoughtful and careful. You think he might like the quiet, too. The benefit of quality time without any of the effort.

So you push on, charcoal edge meeting paper once more. “Just another twenty minutes.”

“Why me?”

The enquiry comes one day, completely out of the blue. It skips your heart and breaks the pastel in your fingers, dust chalking them a lovely shade of lilac.

“What?” You’re not ready for how close Yoongi is - much closer than he ever is - and you shift back, away from the face you’ve spent months filling your sketchbooks with. “Why you what?”

He’s completely nonchalant as he moves even closer.

You can smell his cologne - a distinctly masculine fragrance that’s musk and cedar - and the coffee he’s been nursing for the last hour. It fills your senses, recentring all of your focus so intensely that you don’t immediately recognise he’s continued speaking.

“Why’d you choose to draw me? Why not someone else?” He seems genuinely curious, even though it feels dangerous - a dangling string that’s meant to unravel you.

The answer doesn’t come easily, despite the fact it’s something you’ve asked yourself.

Why him? Why Min Yoongi?

“I don’t know,” you answer, perhaps too honestly. “I saw you and it sort of… just clicked.” How it sounds doesn’t escape you - like something plucked out of a bad romance novel. “I didn’t expect it to be you. I thought I’d draw you once - okay, twice - and then I’d move onto another subject. But I just… couldn’t?”

“So, what you’re telling me is it was love at first sight?” It’s glaringly obvious he’s teasing you. He’s got that grin of his, sly and feline as it creeps across his mouth.

You don’t bristle, instead painted bright red like the sunset that streaks across the sky.

“I— I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, you didn’t say otherwise.”

It’s an uncomfortable line of questioning. You’re not used to it and certainly not from him. You hesitate to speak, turning words over and over on your tongue in an effort to make yourself clear.

You’re not weird. You don’t want this to be weird. But you can’t deny - it’s, decidedly, still very weird.

He tries again - a different tactic this time. One that surprises you, despite the unique friendship you’ve forged over the past few months. “What if I told you I was glad?”

“Glad?” It feels like an echo chamber. Repetition. As if you’re going in circles, chasing a tail that remains just out of reach. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“What if I told you I’m happy we met?”

Your blink is owlish, fully caught off-guard. “I’d say the same thing. I’m happy we’re friends.”

Amusement rolls off him in waves, evidenced by the laugh that curls into the afternoon. He shimmies closer and closer until there’s barely three inches between you. His knee knocks against yours, bony and denim-clad. You try to ignore the way it burns through your own jeans, sparking heat all the way up to the tips of your ears and down into the soles of your feet.

“What if I told you I don’t want to be just friends anymore?”

It’s not a surprise, really. It’s something that’s been on your mind the past few weeks, sown by offhand comments and little gestures you haven’t been able to ignore. Jungkook had even practically shouted it at you just the other night.

“I’d say…” You trail off, lost somewhere among the constellations in his eyes.

“You’d say?” The words are parroted back at you, threaded together by gossamer thin hope.

“I’d say you’re welcome. For choosing you.” The confidence isn’t your own. It comes from him, crafted by the support he offers easily, hands out like keys. Keys to his heart, you realise belatedly, with a sudden bashfulness. Of course.

He can’t wipe the smile from his face. It eats up every inch, dominating even the playfulness that shines through, turning it the prettiest shade. It stands bright against his cheeks, staining the pale apples red. “That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

You’re suddenly very determined - because you want to give this to him. Just as he’s given you everything you wanted, you want to do the same. In this little cut-out piece of paradise, there’s nothing quite as important.

The one word isn’t much but it feels like a turning point. “Yes.”

“You want me to say ‘yes’?”

He nods, just once. There’s so much certainty you can’t doubt him.

“Then yes—”

It doesn’t matter what you’ve just said yes to. It doesn’t even matter that it could be something awful or really, anything under the sun. All that matters is the feeling of his lips, soft and warm and dry on yours. It’s better than any painting you’ve ever seen, any song you’ve ever heard. It fills you wholly, stuttering your heart and bubbling giddiness in the pit of your stomach.

You probably sound a little silly, surprisingly breathless from such a little thing. “Wow.”

“Good things happen when you ask,” he states, solemnly. You’d take him more seriously if he weren’t so dopey, grinning at you like he never has before.

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Nope.”

Luckily, you don’t mind. Not if it gets you another kiss.

You tell him as much and he happily obliges, stealing your breath and replacing it with sugar-coated stardust. You ponder whether you might be able to create with those same particles, turning them into colourful streaks to paint his cheeks. You’d like to find out.

You want a lot of things with Min Yoongi, you decide.

You don’t know how you ended up here.

Actually, that’s a lie. You do. All because of a dumb joke, uttered in passing by Taehyung and now ingrained so deeply in your psyche that you haven’t gone a single day without thinking about it.

“Get out of there,” he whispers right against your temple, lips following to soothe whatever’s got you preoccupied.

“Where?”

“Right there, idiot.” Fingers tap twice, a quick one-two against the side of your head.

You can’t help but grimace, a wrinkling of your nose that your boyfriend chuckles at, pressing kisses across the bridge and over your cheeks. “Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry - just come back to me.” To this moment, he means.

This strange little scene, with his fingers dressed in non-toxic paint and you stripped down to nothing but a flimsy cotton bra and thong.

Have him paint you like one of his French girls, Taehyung had said. It’ll be fun, he’d said.

You think it might be - if you weren’t bouncing with nerves, all five feet three inches of you fizzling with anticipation. Yoongi was only painting you. This was a bonding exercise. Something to bring you closer, to breach the gap between lovestruck artist and inspired musician. Nothing more.

“You’re beautiful, you know.” It’s not meant to be a reassurance but simply a passing comment, like looking at the sky or seeing it snow. So straightforward it makes you laugh, the sound bubbling about in your throat.

“Thanks, Yoongi.”

“No, seriously.” He levels you with a look. You know the one - a touch stern but ultimately playful. “I wanted to make something beautiful but…” Digits wiggle, Atlantic blue sweeping over the tips and up his knuckles like the sea. “I can’t really improve on something that’s already perfect.”

Your cheeks light on fire, as brilliantly coloured as the red in his - your - palette.

He thinks it looks pretty against his hands. The same ones that cradle your cheek, so precisely you want to remind him you’re a canvas and not clay.

“You’re silly.”

“ You’re silly,” he returns, as if that’ll somehow win him this battle of wits.

The roll of your eyes is undeniable. “Good one.”

“You know, I’ve got a ton of paint, right? Not your best choice, making fun of me.” He punctuates each word with passes of his fingers. Colour appears wherever he travels, dragged over your skin with dreamy twists of his wrist. A line here, a circle there. Goosebumps follow in their wake despite the fact that his touch is like candle wax - soothing and deliberate.

You wonder, idly, whether he can feel you burning up beneath him.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs again, almost to himself as he dips his fingers into another dot of paint. Pink this time - in the same shade as the magnolias outside. He spreads the colour over your chest, right where your heart beats an erratic rhythm.

He takes his time in admiring his handiwork, swirling the two shades together until it’s the most flattering shade of purple.

You try - and fail - to ignore the way it stirs something behind your ribs. A need that flickers to life without any sort of warning and has you pressing your thighs together.

“Can I take this off?” It comes abruptly, with eyes that snap up to yours. There’s already a hand tucked beneath the small of your back, right under your shoulders. He already knows your answer - can see it in the blown out pupils that reflect his entire world back at him. He still wants to hear it.

You’re unable to find your voice. It’s gone, stolen by the way he ghosts his fingers up and down the sensitive notches of your spine. You could get lost in this feeling, if he let you. You almost do, only nodding when he moves no further, flat of his palm a solid weight right against the clasp of your bra.

You don’t mind that the band is coloured pink and blue when he tosses it aside. You don’t have it in you to focus on anything but how he studies you now. Openly admires you, like you’re the most incredible thing he’s ever seen.

“What?” Mellifluous and adoring. Music to his ears.

“I think I’m getting distracted.”

“I think so, too.”

“Is that okay?” He speaks more to your boobs than you, single stained hand coming to rest across your ribs. The pad of his thumb swipes over a single bud, perked and already far too sensitive. He’d put his mouth on it, if not for the fact it’s now covered in paint.

Fortunately, there’s still so much of you - places he hasn’t explored but suddenly, desperately needs to.

From the column of your throat and all the way down to the valley of your breasts, he offers sweet kisses. Open-mouthed adoration that leaves you needy and breathless and writing. He catches your untouched nipple between his teeth, gently working it into the same state as its tinted twin.

You shift beneath him, unable to stop the bolt of electricity that rips through you like a thousand volts. It cracks your composure like lightning and sends your pulse racing like thunder. “Of course.”

He hums, content, and nearly falls, dropping his cheek fully against your chest. You’re so soft beneath him, velvet and pliant under his tongue.

“I think I love you.” It’s his voice but your words, spoken so faintly you almost miss it against the roaring in your ears.

“I think I love you, too.”

Yoongi stares up at you then, so full of wonder that you can’t help but look away. It’s an incredibly intimate moment - so much emotion carried in one simple look that you’re not quite sure how to process it. He’d been your inspiration and now you were his. The realisation is almost too much, filling you until you feel like you might float away.

His hands act as an anchor, keeping you here with him.

“You don’t have to say it back.” It’s careful, loaded with his heart and every key to open it.

“I know - I want to.”

He grins so breathlessly handsome that you can’t help but return it, rubied cheeks crystallised with delight. Those same paint-stained hands of his find their newly discovered favourite home of your chest and he sounds like sin when he speaks. “I want you.”

“You can have me.”

It’s all he needs before he’s ducking down and smothering every uncovered inch of you in sweetness. His mouth burns hot but he’s unbearably gentle, searing the shape of his mouth over your breasts and across your collarbone. He licks and sucks as he goes, soothing any ache left behind by the edge of his teeth.

You’re not quite sure where the bites end and the paint begins. It’s all so pretty you don’t mind either way.

But it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough, you think, even as you whine airily, words stuttering out in a half-formed breath. “Please touch me.”

“Where?” He’s hardly given you room to answer, crowded so closely against you that you can feel his heartbeat all the way through to your own. He’s so warm - so solid - upon you that you almost want to tell him that here, just as he is, is perfect.

A momentary lapse in lust before rational judgment is clouded yet again.

Instead - and with more demand than you mean - you grind purposefully against him. A benefit to having him sitting how he is, knees hooked on either side of your hips. He can’t pretend like he doesn’t feel it, cock twitching beneath the constraints of his boxer-briefs.

Your eyes meet and he chuckles, nuzzling his head back into that spot between your neck and shoulder that has you whimpering. The sound alone drives him crazy.

“You’ll be the death of me.” Yoongi knows this like he knows the sky is blue or your smile is his favourite sight.

You’re teasing him when you catch his face, palms cradling the shape of his jaw. “Then it’ll be a good death.”

He doesn’t disagree - especially when he slips his clean hand along the length of your body. He tweaks your nipple on its descent, tickles the underside of your ribs, and then finds the band of your underwear, all in one fell swoop. A digit dips below the elastic, neatly clipped nail grazing the jut of your hip before shifting and dropping further.

You keen when the pad of his finger grazes your clit.

“Do that again.” He doesn’t need to tell you twice. When he repeats the motion, the sound spills off your tongue without restraint.

He slips further down, pressing his hand to gently part your folds. Digits glide easily, coated in slick that drips between your legs and sorely tests his patience. Yoongi’s not sure what he’d expected but this is so much better it’s making his head spin - and he hasn’t even felt you yet.

“You’re so wet, love.” Shame would swallow you whole if not for the way he speaks with reverence. “How badly do you want this?”

“Don’t tease,” you huff, rutting uselessly against the fingers that tease your centre, barely slipping in before resuming a lazy, leisurely path back up to the bundle of nerves that throbs at the contact. He’s hardly touched you and you’re already at a six, entire body alight with need that thrums heavy in your veins.

“Just tell me.”

“I want this. I need this.” You hope he believes you. You’re not sure what you’ll do if he doesn’t. “I need to feel you - please.”

His entire world is spinning, kicked on its axis by the way your tone pitches, demands and begs in the same lilting voice he so adores but has never quite heard like this. He loves it. “I need to stretch you out. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You whine so prettily he almost cracks. It’s enough to have him choking on his own words, not that he’s saying anything. He’s too focused on how he sinks into you - a single digit but so tightly it feels like there’s no way he’ll survive his cock buried inside.

You’re a dream come true. He never wants to wake up.

“More. Please.” You’re so polite, he almost laughs. You’d really taken his words to heart - always asking for what you wanted now. He can’t deny how proud he is. It blossoms in his chest, juxtaposed greatly against the salaciousness that drives him to do exactly as you ask.

His index finger slips in alongside the other. You make that noise he loves, grinding your core against the flat of his palm as he curls his knuckles and seeks out that spot. He knows he’s struck gold when he taps it experimentally, pressure turning light but unrelenting when a choked cry ricochets off your tongue and onto his sweat-slicked shoulder.

“Right there?”

Your nod is enough of an answer.

He redoubles his efforts, fucking you with measured glides of his fingers and precise presses against your g-spot. In no time at all, you’re barely coherent, mumbling his name in a slew of breaths that has him grinning. You’re a sight to behold, moaning so obscenely you’d be ashamed you weren’t so preoccupied by the fact that every part of you feels as if it’s about to splinter.

“Miru— Princess—” Your clit aches and you nearly shriek when he applies pressure against it with the pad of his thumb, swiping your cum over it in slow circles. He wants you so badly - just as bad as you want him- but he’s torn halfway between watching you unravel by his hand and wanting that same euphoria when he’s buried home in your dripping pussy.

“Please, please, please.” There are tears in your eyes. You’re so close you can practically taste it, entire body shaking with the effort of keeping the coil from snapping. “Yoongi, please.”

He’s a fucking goner then, filling you with a third finger and grinding his palm against your clit as you come apart beneath him.

It starts in your toes, stealing feeling all the way up your calves and over your thighs. You’re only aware you’re trembling because it vibrates through Yoongi’s body, looped back to yours when he mouths across your shoulders, sucking memories into your heated, sweat-sweet skin. The stimulation is what keeps you from floating off on a cloud of bliss, the warmth in the pit of your stomach liquifying your bones.

“Are you tired?” Because you certainly look tired - too fucked out to properly meet his stare as he looms over you, both hands adjusted to rest comfortably over your hips.

You are, but it doesn't matter. You haven’t gotten what you wanted - not really - and you aren’t about to let it go without asking.

He’d taught you that.

You smile up at him, doe-eyed and alluring. A hand reaches for his, curls around the fingers still glossy with your slick, and squeezes. “I still need you.”

They’re words he’ll never tire of - also words that have him kicking out of his briefs and rolling your thong down your legs, all too eager. He’s painfully hard, leaking pre-cum and purple at the tip, but he fists himself in slow, measured pumps regardless. It’s a show for you, more than anything.

“ Please.” So pretty, so ready. He can’t resist.

Yoongi sinks against you, the head of his cock brushing through your folds as he slots himself into place with his paint-free hand. The other, still coloured garishly bright, brushes the curve of your lip, the delicate skin beneath your eye. It’s so tender you can’t help but blink, caught off-guard.

“I love you,” you say, though you’re sure he’s meant to, too. You can read it in his eyes - brilliant and bright like a beacon in the night.

He speaks with a roguish grin and a fluid press of his hips. “I know.”

You fit like two puzzle pieces, the stretch perfect as he sinks deeper, a low groan sounding from somewhere deep in his chest. You’re so tight around him but he glides in easily, coaxed to fill you by your wetness and the soft, whiny noises you make.

“Holy shit,” he manages once he’s buried as deep as he can go, head spinning with the way you clench around him, nearly stealing the words off his tongue. “Am I dreaming?”

Laughter is a salve - a catch-all remedy for anything that ails him. It pulls him to the here and now, drawing his attention from the overwhelming bliss that creeps up his spine and recentring it on you, beautiful and bashful beneath him.

“No, you’re not.” It’s a caricature of your voice but he doesn’t mind. He loves that he can bring you to this.

“Thank God.”

Except it’s not God you’re thanking when Yoongi begins to move against you, dragging his cock through your walls with such slow, measured strokes you think you might combust. It’s his name when he pulls almost fully out of you, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock, before snapping forward to bury himself to the hilt. It’s his name that rolls off your tongue like a mantra, hoping and praying and begging for more as he consumes you wholly, in no half measures.

It’s him - Min Yoongi, your muse, your love - that has you crying out, pleasure coursing through your veins as he adjusts and fills you at a completely new angle, brushing against your g-spot with every thrust of his hips.

“Yoongi - please.” You’re chanting the two words again, turning them into a song he’ll never get out of his head, when you spasm around him. His eyes nearly roll back into his head, the sensation turning his rhythm sloppy as he chases the same high. The hand that had previously been propping him up falls, thumb seeking out your clit as he charges toward the precipice.

“One more, love. Once more for me, okay? I want you to come with me.”

He asks so nicely you can’t deny him - even as the overstimulation takes over. You’re shaking so badly you’re not sure how he keeps you in place; it’s a tremor that won’t stop, traipsing over every limb until you’re sobbing.

“I love you,” he chokes out as he tumbles over the edge, falling headlong into climax with you in tow. It’s so strong it feels like it blinds you, spotting your vision with white as he fills you with his cum and continues to fuck you through it, milking every last moment just like you were his slowly softening cock.

You don’t have it in you to answer, far too exhausted by the last orgasm that has your limbs turned to jelly. Yoongi doesn’t mind though; he likes the just-fucked afterglow and how you sink into his arms when he slips out of you and onto his side.

He eyes the cum that spills onto your thighs, pearlescent and going to waste. He has half a mind to push it back where it belongs.

He only doesn’t because of the words you speak next, hardly above a whisper but loud enough that he groans, burying his face into your hair. “So, thanks, Taehyung?”

“Can you not?” It’s a playful response, with teeth bared against the sweat-slicked nape of your neck.

“Sorry.” A beat. He wonders if you’ve fallen asleep suddenly. “I meant thanks, Titanic.”

author note. this was a drabble prompt i got from the lovely @hecticwonderer and i kind of just... ran with it. oops.

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bepractical · 2 years

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Kin Recap Masterlist

Character List

Episode 1: Part 1, Part 2

Episode 2: Part 1, Part 2

Episode 3: Part 1, Part 2

Episode 4: Part 1, Part 2

Episode 5: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Episode 6: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Episode 7: Part 1, Part 2

Episode 8: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Season 1 Superlatives

#kin amc #michael kinsella #amanda kinsella #frank kinsella #a whole lotta kinsellas #charlie cox #character list #recaps

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bepractical · 1 year

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Kin: Season 1, Episode 8, Part 1

It’s the final episode! The plan is afoot! Eamon’s gonna die! Con too! I don’t have to worry about spoilers anymore because the season is over! In this episode: Amanda and Michael execute an excellent plan with one tiny possible wrinkle; Eric has a dastardly plan of his own that unfortunately hinges on the rattest rat to ever rat; Jimmy breaks my heart with some of his best scenes of the series (and that’s saying something); Frank continues to be useless; Eamon screws over Amanda one last time; and Michael may or may not pick up a pharmacist.

See the masterlist here.

Who's ready?

We open with an overhead shot of the airport parking lot, where the Kinsellas have hid the van of drugs in plain sight. Amanda pulls up, shimmies out a big bag of drugs and leaves.

Next we head to Kem’s place, where Amanda’s come to ask a favor/blackmail him into helping with their assassinations.

He tries to shut her out but she starts loudly thanking him for saving Michael’s life by telling her about Anna’s tail, much to the interest of his nosey neighbors. He lets her in.

Back in the compound sometime later, Amanda and Michael build a fire on the patio. How romantic! I’m a wee bit disappointed we didn’t get to see them hatch this plan, which was executed in the time it took Frank and Jimmy to drive home.

Amanda calls Con. He totally missed the memo that she’s done with all their nonsense. When his crabby ass refuses to let her talk to Eamon, she sends him a video of her burning the drugs, which she’ll continue to do every twelve hours until Eamon agrees to meet with her. Good plan!

The credits get a makeover. Very subtle guys, A+.

Eamon calls and Amanda coerces him into meeting her in person. Eamon tells her to swing by his hotel but she brings up Birdy and her bruised face so he agrees to think of somewhere they’ll both be safe. He tries to convince Amanda to stop burning his drugs in the meantime but Amanda’s all LOL, nope. Aw, poor Eamon. Bet he wishes he’d given them Caolan Moore now, huh?

At the prison, Eric gets checked in, or whatever it’s called.

The guard tells him he’s stuck in the protection unit. Eric insists they put him with Bren and they spill the beans- Bren wants nothing to do with his dumb ass.

Aviva! One last glamour shot for the road!

At the compound, Frank and Jimmy finally arrive home from the prison.

Amanda, Michael, Birdy and Anthony are waiting for them. Was Birdy a part of the plotting with Michael and Amanda? That would have been awesome.

Jimmy the mushball is over the moon to see his remaining kiddo. He gives him a hug and kiss before Amanda ushers Anthony upstairs. Time for business.

Amanda and Michael explain what happened with Anna and Anthony. Jimmy, at least, is pissed. Amanda tells them about the prospective meeting with Eamon. If Eamon doesn’t agree to meet, Michael is going to kill him. Interesting they’re not disclosing the whole plan, in which Michael kills Eamon regardless of how well he cooperates.

Frank is pissed. After getting shit on by Bren his ego is very fragile and he’s furious to hear all these plans have been made behind his back.

Amanda: This is what we’re doing, Frank. If you want to go abroad and hide, that’s your decision.

Amanda is D-O-N-E with Frank and it’s awesome. He responds by immediately throwing a hissy fit, one that MICHAEL has to interrupt. MICHAEL. This is not a good day for Frank.

Michael points out Birdy’s wounds from Eamon and tries to redirect his anger but rational Frank has gone out the window. He refuses to recognize the necessity of killing Eamon- and it is necessary at this point- and tries to frame it as Michael and Jimmy being manipulated by Amanda. Ugh, Frank. Finally he leaves, storming next door with Birdy behind him. Amanda looks a little surprised by that, which is interesting.

Birdy tries to calm Frank down but he’s hell bent on blaming Amanda and accusing her of trying to take over the family, which is true to an extent, but only to save them from Frank’s incompetence.

Back at Jimmy and Amanda’s, Amanda tells Jimmy about everything that’s been happening, from Eamon stopping her in the road to Kem being a rat. Jimmy is flabbergast, until he notices Michael’s lack of reaction to these revelations. Then he’s just aghast. More on that later.

Back at Birdy’s, Frank tells her about his meeting with Bren.

In summary, Bren is still Bren, meaning no help will be coming to Eric in jail. Frank's a wreck. Birdy gently promises they’ll sort something out but they both know that’s a lie.

At the prison, Eric gets taken to his cell in the protection unit. It sounds miserable, with a lot of isolation that will not be great for our social butterfly. Small note, Eric is wearing the same clothes as Michael in the first episode when he was let out of prison.

And now the most devastating conversation in this episode, Michael and Jimmy: The Reckoning.

They’re hanging in the kitchen when Jimmy asks when Amanda told Michael about Kem. Michael claims not to remember but after some prodding he admits it was after the attack on the cafe. The conversation that follows is brutal. Let’s transcribe it for maximum impact!

Jimmy: You know what I often wonder? Why you didn’t just let me know about you two back then. You could’ve just told me…that you loved her…that she loved you. That you wanted to be with her. You could’ve just said it. Why didn’t you say it?

Michael: Suppose I…didn’t want to hurt ya.

Jimmy: Thing is, if you’d just told me back then, I would’ve been gutted, I would’ve been fuckin’ raging, but I know I’d have gotten over it, eventually. I would’ve moved on. Could’ve met someone else. I’d be happy.

Michael: I’m sorry.

Jimmy: I just wish you’d told me back then, is all.

Oof. There are so many things happening here, I had to make a separate post (two technically- see this post for my screenshots of this scene in particular). To sum up: Jimmy is our emotional ‘in’ on the show; Michael still isn’t willing to be emotionally vulnerable with his brother for reasons unknown; and despite all the soft and fluffy Jimmy feelings this scene gives me, Jimmy spends no time contemplating or recognizing his own fault in his and Amanda’s relationship during this conversation.

Right as the brothers reach peak angst, Amanda interrupts them. It perfectly mirrors Jimmy barging in on Amanda and Michael’s conversation about Jamie a few episodes ago. She clocks the weirdness but they have bigger fish to fry. Eamon’s called with a location for the meet. It’s time to get this plan underway.

But first! Michael sits at home and thoughtfully sips a beverage, as he is wont to do.

He jogs out to the Garda watching the compound and asks for the favor. Cut to him standing in a pharmacy.

I love when the Kinsellas use the cops as their personal valet/protection squad. Remember when they had to sit outside that derelict building where Frank and Jimmy met Beady? Good times.

Michael’s name gets called by a cute pharmacist.

That would be weird, right? You’re just grabbing some aspirin and chapstick and the pharmacist calls out the name of a known gangland assassin? The pharmacist, at least, is unfazed. Possibly because Michael looks like a sad kitten in need of cuddles 99% of the time.

She starts to give him a spiel about usage and side effects for his medication, but he’s obviously uncomfortable. He wants to know if the medicine will make him normal again.

She prevents herself from leaping over the counter and giving him a hug, but only just. (It’s possible I’m projecting.) She invites him to come back and see her if the meds give him any trouble and keeps a close eye on him as he walks out the door and into the back seat of the cop car.

She was flirting, right? It was subtle, aside from her blatantly checking out his ass on his way out (see above). Still, I'd like to see her again.

Part 2 is here!

#kin amc #michael kinsella #amanda kinsella #jimmy kinsella #frank kinsella #birdy goggins #a whole lotta kinsellas #charlie cox #emmett j scanlan #clare dunne

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bepractical · 2 years

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Kin: Season 1, Episode 3, Part 1

We’re on episode three of the first season of Kin and it’s finally time to bury Jamie and get some good old fashioned payback. A reminder that these recaps include spoilers for the entire first season of Kin. THIS IS YOUR WARNING, LAST CHANCE TO HEED IT!

See the masterlist here.

In this recap we’ll: spend some quality time ogling Michael in a three-piece suit; delve deeper into the quagmire of Michael, Amanda and Jimmy; discuss the saddest father/daughter conversation ever; and explore the real possibility that the red haired hitman from the first episode is a Michael Kinsella groupie.

For all this and more, into the cut we go!

The episode starts with Amanda watching over Jamie’s body in her living room. Just to give you an idea of what we’re in for.

Amanda's phone rings and she runs upstairs to wake Jimmy, who has some excellent bedhead. She wants him to keep an eye on Jamie while she runs out to plan a murder. Also their priest called and she wants to have Michael give the eulogy at Jamie’s funeral, seeing as he’s Jamie’s father and all. Duuuuude. Jimmy, who has been sleepily throwing on clothes while still in bed, is wide awake now and reasonably flabbergast.

Jimmy: I don’t think that’s something he’d want to do.

Amanda: I think it’s only fair.

Jimmy: To who, exactly?

Amanda: To Jamie.

Oh my.

Jimmy asks Amanda if she wants to humiliate him. He never tried to punish her or make her feel bad about her affair with Michael. He was in prison when it happened and blamed himself for leaving her alone, but now he feels like the one being punished. Jamie’s gone and Jimmy is doing the eulogy and that’s it. Amanda pushes back but Jimmy says no. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, why Amanda is making him fight for something that’s his.

I don’t entirely understand it either. The best I can come up with is this. We learn throughout the series that Amanda is actually in love with Michael. Had Jamie not died, I’m fairly certain she would have stayed with Jimmy and repressed her feelings for Michael like a responsible adult, while maybe sometimes daydreaming about telling Jamie about his real biological father (if Jamie hadn’t already figured it out, that is- who decided to have Jamie take Michael to the gym???). But Jamie did die and that option is off the table. And while Michael has always treated Jamie like Jimmy’s son, I suspect Amanda has always thought of him as Michael’s.

Another quick aside. The show makes it clear that Amanda believes that Jamie is Michael’s. Jimmy seems similarly certain, so I’m operating as if that’s the case. The extent of this knowledge is unknown, though in this episode Eamon calls the Kinsellas an inbred family, which seems like an obvious reference. Back to the ep!

Amanda meets Noel, who gives her the key to a car to use when they kill Caolan Moore. He’s a good egg, for someone facilitating murder.

In the snake room, Jimmy feeds his snakes and brushes off Michael’s offers of help. He’s got someone keeping an eye out for Moore and once they get the word, they’re good to go. Michael wants to make sure the guy knows what he’s doing. This is when we find out that Michael’s the one who’ll be doing the shooting. But unbeknownst to Michael, Jimmy’s had a bad morning as far as Michael is concerned. He’s decided he wants to do it himself.

Yet another brief pause to say, I was surprised on first watch that Michael is the one who kills people. There’s been a few mentions of it before now that make it obvious in retrospect, but it didn’t really sink in until this conversation. I am fascinated that neither Frank nor Jimmy have ever killed anyone (no word on Birdy or Eric).

Michael: Killing someone’s different than hurting them, Jimmy.

Is Michael trying to protect his brother? How did he end up being the killer in the family? I need to know!

Michael refuses to help unless he’s the shooter. He hasn’t driven in ten years, he’s the more qualified. Jimmy balks at this and it’s interesting because Michael isn’t trying to make him feel small, but he is. Michael’s also doing Jimmy a huge favor by helping and he wants some measure of control, but Jimmy is so sensitive he’s only hearing that Michael doesn’t think he can do it. It’s tense.

Upstairs, Amanda returns and immediately gets it from all sides. Her mother, who seems like a relatively normal person who’s tired of her daughter being married to the mob, wants to know where she’s been; they’re trying to close up the casket before she’s said goodbye to Jamie; and freaking Jimmy left Jamie alone after she explicitly told him not to. Jimmy’s “oh balls” when he hears her coming down the stairs is hilarious. Then he stops her mid-diatribe to say he’s essentially hiding from her mother and she makes this face:

That might be the most sympathy she’s shown Jimmy since Jamie died.

She tells Jimmy and Michael that she got the car from Noel and Michael encourages her to think things through and wait to make sure this is what she wants. Amanda is certain.

Upstairs, everyone settles around Jamie’s coffin. Birdy checks on Michael, because he’s her favorite. She takes a minute to complain about Amanda limiting the funeral guests, though she tempers it by saying that Amanda’s only making these decisions because she’s grieving and that she’ll regret it later.

At Jamie’s coffin, Amanda straightens Jamie’s suit and kisses him goodbye. Michael is framed over her shoulder and we get a shot of him and Amanda making teary eye contact before the coffin is covered.

Amanda and Jimmy cry together as they see their son for the last time and everything is very complicated and sad.

At the church the funeral procession is very picturesque. Jimmy and Michael are the lead pallbearers, which makes sense though wow, is it a lot. The other pallbearers are Frank, Anthony, Amanda’s dad and who I think is Dotser. Birdy wears an enormous pair of sunglasses. There are actual paparazzi there.

Once inside the church, Michael sees Anna in the pews, avoiding eye contact. He tries not to look too overjoyed while still carrying the dead body of his nephew/son.

Amanda, flanked by her mother and Birdy, follow behind and all is relatively well until we pan to Eamon, who has also found a pew. That motherfucker.

At the hospital, the Garda question Eric and try to shame him into helping them get Caolan Moore, which does not seem like the best plan, especially when your goal is no retaliation.

Back at the church, Jimmy gives his eulogy. Should I transcribe it? I’m gonna transcribe it.

Jimmy: I heard this saying once, can’t remember where exactly but it always stuck with me. I don’t know why, it just did. You can only ever be as happy as your unhappiest child. I know Jamie wasn’t exactly an angel. I mean, you only…you only have to ask his teachers that. I also know he was happy. He just was. It was in his nature. Like even, when he was a baby, oh man, he’d be smiling all the time. It was ridiculous. People would come up to me and Amanda when they saw it and they’d say, ‘You only get one of those, so…’ And every time I’d come home, I’d always know Jamie was there ‘cause I could hear laughing and messing as soon as I came in the door. I’m gonna miss that sound. I’m gonna miss everything about him, but at least I know that when he was here he was happy and he made us happy. He made me…

And Jimmy can’t talk anymore, else he bursts into tears, like your poor recapper who now has to rewind and take screenshots of this whole affair. One note, when Jimmy mentions the quote ‘only as happy as your unhappiest child,’ Michael turns to Anna and they make significant eye contact.

Post service, Amanda’s on a receiving line and look who shows his face to purportedly pay his respects.

Amanda’s too surprised to be pissed. For now, anyway.

Meanwhile, Michael is watching Anna and Anthony talk from across the church. He sees Anna leave and excuses himself from Frank and Eamon to run after her. I wish I knew how to gif because Michael’s reaction when he catches up to Anna is lovely. He is over the moon, literally laughing with happiness. Michael tries to introduce himself, but Anna knows who he is. She’s as opaque as Michael normally is.

Michael tries to make conversation but Anna’s not having it. She reminds Michael he’s not supposed to be near her, even threatens him with her nan. Michael’s so happy he just pushes through the awkwardness as best he can. He tells her he’s trying to work with the courts so he can see her, she shoots him down. He offers to answer any questions she has, talk about anything she wants.

Anna: No, sorry. There is absolutely nothing I want to talk to you about.

Anna leaves and makes it all the way out of the church gates before she lets any emotion show on her face. Michael, meanwhile, is doing his level best not to sob. Men and their kids, man! For the whole range of Michael's emotion, go here.

I don’t fault Anna at all for her reaction to Michael. As far as she knows he murdered her mother and now he’s trying to act like nothing’s wrong. I am still heartbroken for Michael. Anna is the only thing keeping him afloat right now and while that is a terrible, unfair burden to put on a child, it’s still hard to see him struggle. This is also the most emotional we’ve seen him the entire show.

Back inside the church, Eamon approaches Birdy to offer his sympathies. He calls her Bridget. She immediately starts bitching about the small funeral and Amanda again. Eamon asks if there’s anything he can do.

Birdy: Well, you could give us Caolan Moore.

Damn, Birdy is awesome. Eamon agrees, though he does not agree to give up Caolan Moore.

Outside again, Eamon approaches Michael. I LOVE this scene, and not just because we get a good view of Michael’s full suit. This scene is all about Eamon feeling Michael out. Eamon knows the Kinsellas are furious and on edge, and just because Frank can be intimidated doesn’t mean the rest of them can. Michael is THE killer in the family, he’s his father’s son in a way Jimmy is not, and if anyone is gonna take out Moore, it’s gonna be him.

Eamon feels him out and butters him up, offers him free vacations and even takes a pot shot at Frank, who’s watching this entire exchange with interest. Eamon knows that Michael was there when Jamie was killed, he admits it was a mistake but reiterates that it’s over, calls him Mikey while he does it. Michael is completely unbothered; he laughs Eamon off and promises he’s not out to cause any trouble.

Back inside the church, Amanda wants to know where all Jamie’s friends are. Turns out his shitty school threatened to punish anyone who attended, because Jamie was a Kinsella.

Part 2 here!

#kin amc #michael kinsella #amanda kinsella #jimmy kinsella #frank kinsella #a whole lotta kinsellas #kin #eamon cunningham #charlie cox #he's in a three-pieced suit okay #it's worth seeing

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bepractical · 1 year

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Kin: Season 1, Episode 8, Part 2

Hello! Sorry for the very long wait! I went on vacation, then I was catching up with work, then the holidays happened, etc, etc. I highly recommend a trip to Madrid, by the way. Beautiful city, great food, good people.

This is part two of the episode 8 recap for the first season of Kin. See the masterlist here. The end’s not near, it’s here (and full of spoilers).

In part 1: Amanda and Michael kicked off their plan to murder Eamon, Jimmy was thoroughly cuckolded and sad about it, Frank got sidelined and no one was sad about it, Eric got his first taste of prison life, and Michael met a cute pharmacist. I ended right after their meeting but forgot that immediately thereafter there’s a scene of Michael staring soulfully at his meds back home, so that’s where we’ll start. Here’s some thirsty pharmacist to take us into the cut!

At the compound, Jimmy’s revving up his bike.

Amanda is grabbing something from the floor safe while Michael takes his pills.

That done, he stares for a minute at his screen saver of Anna, presumably to remind himself of his motivation for all the upcoming murder. He leaves his phone on the table and he’s out of there, breezing right past his bullet proof vest.

Michael meets Jimmy and Amanda in their drive, where he and Amanda have a super awkward goodbye. She obviously wants to say or do more but Jimmy is watching them both like a thoroughly cuckolded hawk.

The best part is Michael’s little smile when Amanda tells him to be careful. He's a confident assassin.

The men drive away to parts unknown while Amanda goes back inside to find Anthony playing video games. She offers to make him any meal he wants. He asks for Thai chicken curry, which we soon find out was Jamie’s favorite.

Seeing Anthony there playing by himself when the series started with him and Jamie playing together is sad. I wonder if he’s guessed what’s going on. I say yes, and we already know he’s down for murder.

Over at Birdy’s, Nikki’s worried about Eric going into the protection unit. Everyone knows Eric will lose his mind if he’s isolated for that long. She asks if there’s anything else Frank can do for him and Frank snaps at her like the enormous impotent manchild he is.

At the jail, Eric works out shirtless. Thanks, buddy.

I don’t mention it often but damn, this cast is good looking. Once again I lament my inability to make gifs.

Turns out Eric’s psyching himself up for a painful plan, which involves slamming his head and fists against the cell door until he’s injured enough to get sent to the infirmary.

Why? You’ll see! It’s a good plan! Genuinely!

Back at the compound, Jimmy comes home to Amanda cooking dinner. He recognizes what she’s making, which is very sweet and sad. She asks after Michael, providing a perfect segue for Jimmy to enact his own plan, that is, winning his wife back by offering to do anything, literally ANYTHING to make her happy. He agrees to miss Jamie’s month’s mind mass in order to do it (it’s killing Con, that’s what he’s doing). See how excited he looks about that?

Can you believe it’s been a month since Jamie died?

Sitting by his lap pool, which looks very warm and cozy, Eamon chats with his adorable son in Spain. Nice to see he appreciates one of his children. And it’s the boy, would you look at that!

Kem rolls up with Con Doyle and seriously, let’s take a minute to appreciate the balls on this dude.

Eamon wants Kem to set up one of the Kinsellas, Michael for preference. Kem gives a little song and dance about how hard it is to get any of them alone but promises to contact Con when he has a plan. The trap is set!

At the compound, Frank snorts some coke alone while looking destroyed and I don’t feel bad for him at all.

Across the street, Amanda gets out of bed with Jimmy and makes her way to Jamie’s bed. She lays her head on his pillow and inhales, trying to catch some of his scent. It’s really sad.

The next morning everyone’s up and ready to get down to business. Eamon’s heading to the airport, Amanda’s ruminating over the flyer for Jamie’s mass, Jimmy’s steeling himself to kill Con. Amanda assures him he doesn’t have to do it if he doesn’t want to, but he claims he wants to. “Good,” she says. Jimmy does not look reassured.

Amanda starts to leave for the airport and is stopped by a disheveled Frank.

Dude is grasping for authority with both hands. Unfortunately any respect Amanda had for him is long gone. His posturing just makes him look more pathetic. Damn it, Frank. She should have run him over.

At the airport Amanda meets Eamon in a lounge to talk, along with a special guest: Angela’s mystery gift.

I love this scene. It’s such a stark contrast to the last time they met, when Eamon threatened Anthony and backed Amanda into her car door. I have some thoughts about how Amanda got to this point, but they are super lengthy so I’ll toss them in a separate post. Short story: The past month has shown Amanda how pell-mell and incompetent the criminal underworld is, giving her the confidence to face Eamon and make these huge decisions for the family. I love that she’s wearing all black, very formal and intimidating, and that the reason behind her wardrobe is that she’s headed to a service to mourn her son. It’s a nice and tidy circle.

Eamon gets right to threatening. Give him the drugs or he’ll make sure Anthony has a bounty double anyone else.

Amanda responds, cool as a cucumber: Right now it’s half a million for anyone who kills Jimmy, Michael, Frank or Viking. But that’s not the real cost of killing a Kinsella. That figure would be closer to 50 million. Cause if any of them are killed, I will burn your drugs, all of it at once.

Eamon is not pleased but Amanda assures him she’s only negotiating. She points out that someone must be waiting for their cut of the drugs, a fact we’ll get into later.

Eamon has finally cottoned on that he won’t be steamrolling Amanda anymore. She offers a deal- he can have his drugs in exchange for peace. Eamon balks at that and Amanda reasonably points out that Eamon’s had five of their people killed and her son is dead, so it’s not like he’s walking away with nothing. Eamon pulls out that old routine, that Jamie’s death was wrong, it was an accident, but that means less than nothing to Amanda.

Eamon: Everything I am, everything I’ve built- all of it- is dependent on one thing, that people know I’m fucking ruthless. Without that it all comes tumbling down. Agreeing to your offer, even if it’s fair, makes me look weak. So I can’t accept. I just can’t.

Amanda asks what Eamon can accept. He tells her he wants his drugs and one Kinsella. She asks which one he wants and he tells her to choose.

With that he gets up and starts to walk away until Amanda calls him back to ask permission to go to Jamie’s mass. Eamon agrees to spread the word through his criminal pipeline that it’s over.

The final part is here!

If you had to choose one of the Kinsella men to die, who would it be?

#kin amc #amanda kinsella #michael kinsella #jimmy kinsella #a whole lotta kinsellas #eamon cunningham #kem too!

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bepractical · 2 years

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Kin: Season 1, Episode 5, Part 2

It’s time for part 2 of the episode 5 recap of the first season of Kin, aka the longest recap in my brief history of recapping. In part 1 we covered the heist itself, a surprisingly simple plan that revolved around one well placed threat. Con Doyle got some time to shine as Eamon’s #1 minion and I spent way too long ruminating on Michael Kinsella.

These recaps have spoilers for the entire first season. Second verse, same as the first. Don’t spoil yourself unless you want to!

See the masterlist here.

Aviva, take us away!

At the compound, Amanda puts her print outs of Eric’s GPS data in the house safe.

She hears Michael and Frank arrive home and goes to greet them, along with Birdy and Nikki. Things went well and they absolutely did not just paint an enormous target on their backs. Jimmy and Eric are on their way home. They all head to Amanda and Jimmy’s house to celebrate.

At Eamon’s hotel (I think?) Eamon comforts Con over his terrible ordeal. He’s very sympathetic right up until he realizes the Kinsellas stole all his drugs. What, did he think they took just one or two satchels? He turns on Con real quick. Not so worried about his son now, are you, Eamon? He asks Con to call a meeting.

Back at the compound, the Kinsellas are doing a celebratory toast. Everyone looks thrilled besides Amanda, who is standing in the doorway glaring daggers at Eric.

Michael is toasting with water like a good boy who doesn’t want to have a seizure and Jimmy gives him a neck clasp and cajoles him into taking a shot.

I’m pretty forgiving of Jimmy for this. Michael’s been really secretive about his health and he never told anyone why he wasn’t drinking. While people have asked, they’ve been pretty gentle about it in my opinion. He doesn’t normally play into the toxic masculinity the rest of the men in his family are steeped in but he seems intent on keeping this possible weakness from everyone. Jimmy is very sweet and happy, and Eric teases Michael about the puny size of his score, and the atmosphere of good cheer pushes Michael over the edge.

Eric finally notices Amanda's death stare and tries to get her to join in the revelry. They just did a heist! It doesn’t get any better than this! All the adults in the room are slightly horrified and Birdy points out the dead teenager in the room.

Eric is an idiot. I give him some leeway because I find him more oblivious than malicious, but he’s incredibly selfish and struggles to see past his own nose. He is genuine in his toast to Jamie I think, but it comes off terribly to Amanda, because he never recognized that Jamie’s death was partially his fault AND Frank lied through his teeth about it, something she’s already started to suspect.

They toast and Amanda looks like she's ready to murder Eric right there on her kitchen floor.

Birdy asks when they’ll start selling their stolen drugs but now that the heist is over Frank is all practical again and tells them they’ll have to sit on them for a while. Birdy looks disappointed and a little pouty about that, leading me to wonder what she would have done if she was in charge. Frank commands everyone to cheer up and there’s some weird, canned laughter while Michael takes another shot.

He does not look well and I wonder if he had serious substance abuse issues before prison (besides supposedly killing Allison on accident while high), which does make the family bigger assholes than I suspected for pushing alcohol on him all the time. Then someone breaks out the coke and he does that too and they’re all bonding and laughing but there’s this specter of impending health problems haunting them that only Michael knows about.

Meanwhile, Amanda gets Frank alone to tell him about her visit from the cops. She calmly explains that if they come back they’ll find a lot of hinky shit and close down the dealership. The Kinsellas need to give them someone for the shooting. Frank does a bad job of playing dumb and blows her off. Amanda is surprisingly sympathetic, but only because she hasn’t realized what an idiot Frank is yet. He asks if she’s trying to manipulate him and get Eric in jail, and maybe that’s part of it but also SHE’S NOT WRONG, IDIOT.

In the bathroom, Michael is having the first symptoms of a seizure. He stumbles out of the house, miraculously not running into anyone in the family. He’s almost to his door when his vision starts to go out and he trips, falling headfirst into his front door and breaking a glass panel with his head. He finally makes it inside and falls straight to the floor.

This is all very harrowing. I’m sad that he was in a house full of his family and literally fled so they wouldn’t see evidence of weakness. Now he’s alone in his house, full of drugs and alcohol and having a seizure. Not for long, at least.

Back at Jimmy and Amanda’s, Nikki starts dancing and Eric gets up to join her. They’re cute in a Bonnie and Clyde kind of way. Frank watches on, depressed, because even though he won’t admit it yet he knows his son is going to jail.

Birdy joins the dance and Amanda notices the front door is open. It takes her a minute but she ends up at Michael’s, where the door is open and there’s glass on the ground. THANK GOD. She loves Michael more than her own personal safety and runs right in, yelling for him.

At first she thinks he’s been shot and she struggles to turn him onto his back. She touches his face and chest in a soft fluttering way, like a parent checking to make sure her kid is alright after a fall, and Michael slowly comes out of it.

She wants to know what happened and offers to call an ambulance. The Daredevil fan in me is momentarily confused because calling an ambulance after a health crisis is not his MO, but it’s totally an option for a shady killer from an Irish crime family. Michael tries to brush her off but Amanda is not having it. He scared the crap out of her. She implores him to see a doctor and she looks so scared it reminds me of Jamie and how, not long ago, she wasn’t able to comfort or even see him when he was hurt. This family makes me sad.

Michael explains that he’s already seen a doctor and probably has epilepsy. He looks embarrassed. Amanda tries to talk to him about it but he doesn’t want her pity. He’s so fragile, like all the men in this family. Amanda assures him she doesn’t pity him and holds his hand. This is the scene where it struck me on first watch that Amanda and Michael’s past was more complicated than just fucking. There were/are definitely feelings there; Amanda, at least, loves Michael if she’s not in love with him.

Look at their little faces. I love them.

At Eamon’s hotel, Eamon gives marching orders to his league of assassins, including the red-haired Mini Michael and Beady, the traitor, who gave Frank the lead in Antwerp.

He wants one of the Kinsellas, Michael for preference. Future me is laughing, knowing how utterly they fail at this. They can’t even kidnap Michael’s teenage daughter! Eamon is very intimidating but he and his organization get a D- on follow through from me. He offers 500K for any of the Kinsella men and 2 million for anyone who is able to recover what they stole. He excuses them like it’s a high school assembly and tells Con to up security at the hotel.

At the compound, Amanda is brushing her teeth when Jimmy comes in to pee. She smiles at him, the smile of someone who knows something Jimmy doesn’t know. At the moment that’s a lot of things, but the ones she brings up are Frank’s lies and Eric’s culpability in Jamie’s death. She has to really spell it out to him, because Jimmy trusts Frank and the hierarchy more than he trusts Amanda, but she gets him there eventually.

He’s pretty pissed, primarily because Eric's drive-by interferes with his convoluted rules for retaliation. The shooting that killed Jamie was retaliation for Eric’s shooting. So? Would they have let Caolan Moore go if they knew? Would they have taken their revenge out on Eric, instead?

And now things go bad. Jimmy’s relieved to hear that Michael didn’t know about this- because he asked, of course he did; always testing, our Jimmy- but he’s mad Amanda didn’t tell him immediately. He dresses angrily, intent on going over to confront Eric, but Amanda tells him it’s handled. She handled it, in fact, with Frank. Oh buddy, he does not like this. Jimmy squawks like an angry squirrel but Amanda is done asking people for permission and she doesn’t care about the hierarchy. She was able to do what Jimmy couldn't, find a solution without instigating World War III.

Jimmy feels emasculated and powerless and, yep, that’s where we’re gonna stop today, on his sad, confused face.

Sorry, Jimmy! Consequence of having an awesome wife.

Visit part 3 here.

#kin amc #michael kinsella #frank kinsella #amanda kinsella #jimmy kinsella #a whole lotta kinsellas #eamon cunningham #charlie cox #context for the previous post

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bepractical · 2 years

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Kin: Season 1, Episode 7, Part 1

It’s episode 7 of the first season of Kin and you know what that means? Bren time! Buckle up cause we’ve got a bad dad and a hot but ill-conceived kiss to cover.

Reminder: these recaps have spoilers for the entire first season. One more episode and you too will know everything that happens in the first season of Kin, if you don’t already.

See the masterlist here.

Now who's ready for some illicit kissing???

The episode starts off in jail where Eric is waiting, head in his hands, for his lawyer, Donal. He’s also Michael’s lawyer, you’ll remember, though he will not be Amanda’s.

Donal tells Eric he’s looking at charges for attempted murder. All at once Eric looks like a little boy again who doesn’t quite understand the consequences of his actions.

Eric suggests they try the original plan, that Fudge was the shooter and he just drove, but Donal counsels him to shut his trap until they find out what the police have on him and to prepare for the worst. Eric asks to speak to Nikki before he’s charged.

Out in the wilds of Ireland, Eamon strides across the grass with his blanket hanging from his back like a cape. His feet are bare. Any revelations he had while high have quickly been papered over; he looks pissed.

At the dealership, Amanda calls Anthony to let him know about the raid and Dotser.

He does his best to hide his upset, which is not very well. Anthony’s actor does a really good job here.

They hang up and her lawyer arrives. Amanda wants someone who isn’t known for defending criminals, which is a pretty good plan.

Somewhere in Dublin, Con Doyle and Mini Michael torture one of the Kinsella's dealers. They’re looking for the drugs but Frank’s tight circle of confidence has shut out everyone but immediate family. Eamon, over the phone and back in his suit, growls at them to find someone who knows something. Mini Michael kills the dealer before they bounce.

At the compound, Birdy tries to calm Frank, who’s upset about Dotser. Michael is there for some reason, though he quickly gets called away by the Garda.

There’s a social worker here to see him. He leaves and Birdy, after saying that if someone had to die it’s best it was Dotser, firmly tells Frank to put on his big boy pants and find a solution. “You have to find a way out of this, Frank,” she says, “we can’t go on living like this.” Good luck with that, sister.

At Michael’s, Anna's social worker serves Michael with a court order barring him from seeing or communicating with Anna. Michael tries to make his case but she shuts him down hard. Again, I understand wanting to protect Anna from Michael’s violent life but they are going about it in the worst way possible. Also, as the daughter of a social worker, I feel confident saying a social worker would never talk to Michael the way she’s talking to Michael.

I'm so interested in hearing other people's opinions about this whole situation. See here for more pics of this scene and my thoughts.

At school, Anna waits for her nan to pick her up. She’s embarrassed and annoyed but her nan insists. I’m not gonna argue with a woman whose daughter was killed by the same man putting her granddaughter in danger, but it’s still a bad plan.

Back at the dealership, Amanda and her lawyer talk brass tacks. In summary, if found guilty of money laundering for an organized crime gang, Amanda is looking at six to ten years in prison. It's not great, Bob.

At the compound Amanda finds Michael, Jimmy, Frank and Birdy waiting in the snake room. She tells them what happened at the dealership, mainly, the police took everything and she’s most definitely fucked. Frank brings up Donal but Amanda tells them she has her own lawyer now.

Amanda: I warned you this would happen Frank.

Birdy: Frank did what he thought was best.

Amanda: Well it wasn’t good enough.

Go off! Whew. Amanda is shaking with barely contained rage. Jimmy, meanwhile, is caught between his loyalties to Frank and Amanda. It’s obviously just now occurring to him that Amanda could be punished for all the super illegal things she’s been doing on the family’s behalf, which has tipped his loyalties in her direction. It’s such a drastic change from his regular settings. His face is a Blue Screen of Death. Poor Jimmy.

Birdy tries to freeze the increasingly hostile Amanda out (‘be careful what you tell that woman’) and Michael glumly tells her to shove it. Yes yes yes.

Frank explains the reason they’re there. His small operation has backfired and with Eric going to prison it’s just the five of them against Eamon. Birdy is going to talk to Eamon as a last bid for compromise. She believes he won’t hurt her because of their history. She’ll offer to return the drugs to get him to lay off. If that doesn’t work, their next best option (for the men, anyway) is to run. Somewhere abroad, not Spain.

No one looks happy about that.

Amanda leaves to get trashed. We catch up with her on the roof doing a line of coke, a giant glass of alcohol in front of her.

Michael comes out to join her. MICHAEL. Amanda just found out she may be going to jail and her husband may have to flee the country and it’s Michael who checks on her. Jimmy’s not making a great case for himself, is what I’m saying.

Amanda: I figured it was either feel sorry for myself or get fucking wasted. So here I am. Doing both.

<3 Amanda.

Amanda asks about Anna. That conversation with the social worker has turned him around on the matter- Michael’s not going to see her anymore. He brings up their conversation from the first episode, to stay out of Anna’s life because it’s what’s best for her. They both look very sad and resigned.

Before we move on, please observe their seating arrangement.

Outside the compound, Frank meets Donal for an update on Eric’s case.

The cops have Eric on camera and there’s an eyewitness. So, Eric’s screwed. Frank knows Eric won’t survive in prison with Eamon out to get him but he also won’t survive protective custody. Donal suggests Frank talk to Bren for help. Can’t wait!

At Birdy’s, Birdy talks to Nikki about Eric’s imprisonment. She doesn’t sugarcoat things but she does try to normalize them- he’s going in but Nikki can stay at his house while he’s gone and hang out with the family all she wants. By the way, have they thought of having kids?

Nikki looks upset and then mildly horrified. This is not the sexy/dangerous life she was promised!

One thing Birdy mentions that I find interesting, she talks about how watching your significant other go to jail or prison is part of the life. If you’re going to be involved with a criminal, you have to be prepared to lose them for years at a time. Frank interrupts this depressing conversation with the news that, yep, Eric is screwed.

At his hotel, Eamon eats dinner and grills Con about Amanda, who is unreachable. Eamon’s given up pretending he cares about Con’s kid and the Kinsellas threat against him. Eamon tells Con this is his fault and to get his damn drugs back.

Back at the compound, Amanda and Michael are still hanging out on the roof. Please observe their new position.

Amanda reminisces on the last night she was on the roof, the night Jamie was killed. She tries to take the blame for Caolan Moore’s death but Michael doesn’t let her. Dude got what he had coming. But thinking of Jamie and his death, and everything that’s happened since then, has Amanda thinking of all the moments she’ll miss in Anthony’s life, moments she’s already missed out with Jamie.

Amanda tries to dwell on things, but Michael stops her self pity in its tracks. He tells her to fix it, to not just accept she’s going to jail because people are telling her she is.

Amanda: Isn’t that what you did? You pleaded guilty?

Michael: That’s different. I wanted to be punished, didn’t I?

OOF.

He tells her she’s smart enough to find a way out. He’s so assured of her intelligence and competence, totally nonchalant about it. Amanda is awesome, she’ll come up with a solution, no big deal. That shit’s like catnip to women. Amanda shrugs off her blanket and leans into Michael’s space. They meet in the middle for a kiss. It’s hot.

Michael: Are you trying to blow everything up?

Amanda: (Takes a minute to think about it) Boom.

Sorry, I love them.

And then it gets even better, because Jimmy shows up. Michael and Amanda scurry away from one another, like a couple of teenagers getting caught making out by their parents.

Jimmy’s been looking for Michael everywhere. He just finished talking to Frank, who told him about the field trip to visit Bren. Jimmy won’t go without the go ahead from Michael.

Michael’s confused for a moment, then very embarrassed. He stutters out his permission and awkwardly hightails it out of there.

What happened between Michael and Bren?! It’s a big enough deal that Jimmy felt the need to ask for Michael’s blessing to visit him, and Amanda did not look surprised by this. Is it related to the mysterious head injury???? I need to know! Also, Jimmy is being such a good brother here, which makes me think some of Michael’s awkwardness (and he is SUPER awkward) is due to guilt, seeing as he was just kissing Jimmy’s wife. It’s good.

The scene isn’t over but I’m out of images for this post. Part 2 is here!

#kin amc #michael kinsella #amanda kinsella #jimmy kinsella #a whole lotta kinsellas #charlie cox #hot men are hot #so are michael and amanda

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bepractical · 2 years

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Kin: Season 1, Episode 6, Part 1

It's time for part 1 of the episode 6 recap of the first season of Kin. In this episode: Amanda sniffs out a rat; Michael goes on another bad idea father/daughter outing with Anna; Frank makes dumb decisions; Eamon goes on a vision quest with his ex; and I spend some time inexpertly poking around at grief-based decision making.

Remember that these recaps have spoilers for the whole first of Kin. Don't spoil yourself!

See the masterlist here.

Amanda, take us to the cut!

We open with Eamon at his hotel restaurant, sitting down with the son of his supplier.

Eamon had a deal with daddy to sell/pay for all those drugs the Kinsellas stole and the son’s come to collect. Eamon asks for an extension, like he’s at a bank and not dealing with an international drug lord. The son and his man bun agree on two weeks, though Eamon will have to pay for it.

Eamon asks Con if he’s heard from ‘Jimmy’s missus’ and reminds him again how important it is they get those drugs back.

Speaking of Jimmy's missus, at the compound Amanda blow-dries her hair right over the spot where her head hit the car door when Eamon pushed her. She winces. She heads down for coffee and tea with Jimmy and Michael, cause Michael takes his coffee there in the morning. Now I’m picturing the three of them and maybe Allison having breakfast with mini Anna, Jamie and Anthony running around between them. AWWWW.

Amanda looks thoughtful. She asks them if there’s ever been a rat in the family. Jimmy assures her that Frank’s maintained a tight ship and only the family knows anything of importance. Amanda asks about Dotser, but Jimmy shoots down the idea of him or anyone else talking to Eamon.

Jimmy wants to know why Amanda’s asking. He’s a dick about it.

Jimmy: Frank runs this family, not you. And I’m not being funny Amanda, but it’s not your place to be talking to Frank about anything. You look after the dealership, and that is fucking it.

Jimmy. Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. When did you become the poster boy for fragile masculinity? Amanda puts down her mug and leaves. Then Michael’s phone rings. He’s confused to discover it’s Anna, who wants to meet at a cafe to talk. What’s one more ill-advised field trip to see your kid when half of Ireland’s criminals are gunning for you?

Elsewhere, Eamon arrives at his ex-wife’s fancy house. Instead of heading inside he walks to the garden on the side of the house and starts attacking the shrubbery. His daughter finds him yanking weeds and yelling about gardeners like a demented badger. She’s obviously used to this, or she’s inherited her mother’s zenlike attitude, cause she stands by quietly while he has a mini breakdown.

Finally his ex-wife comes out. She’s significantly deteriorated since their dinner the night of Jamie’s funeral/Caolan Moore’s assassination. Eamon offers again to get her better medical care, but she wants something else. I will do my best to explain it when we get there. For now, know that Eamon definitely loves her and he pays little attention to his daughter, other than to reach for her briefly after he abandons the garden beds.

Eamon and his ex-wife head off in his convoy to a mysterious location.

Back at the compound, Eric watches Birdy and Frank talk, cereal bowl in hand, like a child spaced out in front of their Saturday cartoons.

This is such a strange conversation. In the complicated calculus of who is responsible for Jamie’s death, Eric is definitely part of the equation, albeit not alone. Birdy’s argument to Frank would have him ignore that and the fact that Eric’s recklessness could lead to the downfall of the entire family, because Frank’s first allegiance should be to his son. It’s not hard for Birdy to paint a picture of paternal loyalty, and Frank is very easily manipulated when he feels out of his depth. Birdy also gets Frank to question Amanda’s intel, which is frustrating because Birdy is supposed to be smarter than that. It’s one thing to convince Frank to support Eric because that’s what a proper father would do and it’s another to convince him that Amanda is lying about what the cops have and exaggerating the impact it will have on the family. I’m disappointed, Birdy. I expect better.

Two more minor things Birdy says here worth noting: that Jimmy and Michael are jumping through hoops for Amanda (nonsense, but there’s a big narrative push to have you believe so) and that Kinsellas don’t hand themselves over to the police (Michael says ‘what?’). Frank also posits Birdy is worried that Amanda's taking over her position as his adviser (also nonsense).

Birdy comes inside and tells Eric to talk to Frank. So much of Eric’s vulnerability is tied to Frank. One thing these recaps have taught me is that the Kinsellas can be selfish and sometimes loathsome, but they each have these soft underbellies that make them more relatable and their faults more easily forgiven. On paper Eric is a spoiled brat with a bad temper whose thoughtless actions almost destroy his family but in show he’s far more nuanced, and his relationship with Frank is dead center.

At the salon, Amanda swings by for a pick up. Nikki is snotty to her, because it’s easier to blame the Eric situation on Amanda than Eric and damn if that's not the root of the problem. Amanda is not a Kinsella by blood, Amanda is a woman and the family is patriarchal with a strong vein of misogyny running through it. So much easier to blame an uppity woman than an incompetent man. Nikki hasn’t figured that out yet, but she will.

Niki leaves Amanda with Kem. He starts fishing and Amanda immediately deduces he’s the rat BECAUSE SHE’S AWESOME. She invites Kem back to the house to fill out the paperwork on a new car and he rushes to follow her.

Back at the convoy, Eamon’s ex- her name is Angela, I had to look it up- is trying to put her affairs in order. Her will has assets and properties in her name that aren’t hers and she wants it cleaned up before she dies. Eamon asks if she wants them for real, as he’s ready to give her anything at this point, but no, she just doesn’t want to leave a mess behind for her daughters to have to clean up.

Eamon is distraught because he loves her, but instead of feeling bad for him I want to smack him because he either had an affair or left her for another woman and this other woman may also be awesome but he is just an idiot. Not that I’m biased to think Eamon’s an idiot or anything. Add him to the pile.

This does bring up one of my favorite things about the show, which is how often emotions, specifically grief, dictate the actions of the characters. Eamon giving Caolan Moore permission to go after Eric was strategic- he needed to put Frank in his place and reward Moore for his loyalty- but everything he’s done since Jamie was killed has been emotional. How differently would this season have played out if he hadn’t found out Angela was dying right in the middle of it? And he’s not alone. Caolan Moore’s assassination was definitely a grief based decision for Jimmy and Amanda. Michael’s participation was as well, grieving what he saw as his only opportunity to see his daughter. Frank’s decision concerning Eric in this episode is partially about grieving the possible loss of Eric’s freedom. Even the driveby was an emotion-based decision. I like that, just like I like how the Kinsella’s plans are often short term and short sighted. These aren’t perfect people with elaborate, ten-step plans. They make poor decisions when they’re upset and have blindspots. It’s nice.

Angela asks Eamon if he’s given any thought to ‘his question’? Eamon doesn’t want any part of what we’ll find out later is an ayahuasca ceremony. I guess he thought he was with her for emotional support? Angela suggests he ask ‘show me who I’ve become.’ She’s really got his number. He thinks she’s having a go at him but she just wants resolution before she dies. Now I’m wondering if he left her because she understands him too well.

They finally arrive and Angela asks Eamon to ditch the armed guard. He agrees, but not before giving Con the okay to track Michael’s daughter. Interesting that Con and, by extension, Mini Michael, ask for permission. It’s almost like it’s frowned upon in these circles to get children involved. Isn’t that what started all this?

I should mention that, while I am incredibly critical of Eamon, Ciarán Hinds absolutely kills it in this role. The cast as a whole is really excellent.

Back in Dublin proper, Michael waits nervously for Anna in a cafe. Prepare yourselves, cause we’re about to get some A-grade dorky dad material here. Anna arrives and smiles shyly but Michael can’t contain himself; this is literally all he’s wanted since getting out of jail.

The two sit down, all awkward and fumbly. Anna makes her face blank again, and it occurs to me it’s got to be weird for her, sitting down with this white dude who’s virtually a stranger and who, for all she knows, killed her mother. She’s trying hard to protect herself, I think, in great contrast to Michael, who’s smiling like this is the best day on earth.

Michael brushes off the cuts on his face as the results of a fall and offers to get Anna something to eat. She’ll take some juice, please, but Michael gently cajoles her into a piece of chocolate cake to go with it. I am horrified. Chocolate cake and orange juice. Together. Whew. He goes up to the counter to order while Anna stays at the table. They are the same type of awkward ducks and it’s uncomfortable but sweet.

Back at the compound, Amanda pulls up with Kem. He is completely oblivious. She takes him outside on the back porch to talk, while Jimmy sits on the couch, looking confused.

Back at the cafe, Michael gives Anna her cake and juice, and a little gift he picked up for her. Who’s taking this man shopping? Isn’t he supposed to be under armed guard?

Anyway it’s a bluetooth speaker for her to use to practice her dancing. He briefly tries to explain bluetooth but Anna laughs him off, finally picking up on how much of a dork her dad is.

She tells him she’ll have to hide it from her grandma, who thinks Michael’s the devil. Apparently Anna’s nan is ‘big into God,’ though Anna’s not really.

Anna: I did pray to mom a long time after she died but not so much anymore.

Oh, Anna. Michael looks completely unequipped for how to deal with this.

Michael reminds Anna of his plan to go through the courts to see her. She shoots him down, not in a nasty way, just pointing out that all the recent murder and gunplay looks bad for his chances. Michael wants to try anyway, but only if she wants him to. She does. How can he be such a good dad and such a bad dad at the same time?

Back at the compound, Kem is filling out paperwork while Amanda asks him a series of questions. Does he have a license? Any penalty points? Just who does he talk to, when he’s out being a rat?

Okay, we need to talk about Amanda. She’s a fucking boss. She’s not a criminal mastermind but she’s smart, and Jamie’s death has jarred her enough that she’s no longer going along with the family hierarchy, therefore more willing and able to see things clearly. Fudge’s death should have been a huge hint that someone was talking in the organization, but Frank wasn’t willing to see it. Jimmy and Birdy go along with Frank, Michael has other things on his mind, and Eric is an idiot. Amanda sees their points of weakness and makes an obvious deduction. Their operation is small, Frank has kept it small on purpose, so the options are light on the ground. Then she comes up with a plan that gives her the advantage- bruiser Jimmy is right inside. She’s amazing.

Kem tries to get in her face but 1) she wore her ass kicking boots today and they've made her taller 2) Jimmy is RIGHT INSIDE. Kem tries to play dumb so she threatens to get Jimmy. Kem tries to call her bluff but Amanda knocks on the window and drags Jimmy outside. She does a little song and dance about Kem being unable to decide what kind of car to get. Meanwhile, Kem looks ready to shit his pants. It’s good.

This scene, by the way, only made me love Jimmy more. He spent the whole of it looking like this.

He’s so clueless.

Jimmy goes back inside and after a tense few seconds, during which Kem looks like a little boy who’s about to be put in timeout and Amanda threatens Kem with Jimmy and Michael, Kem finally admits he talks to Con.

He admits to setting up Fudge and tells her about the bounty on the Kinsella men. Amanda asks about Anthony and while Kem hasn’t heard anything about him, he tells her about the tail on Anna. Not great!

And now, at the worst possible moment, I hit the image cap on this post. Part 2 is here!

#kin amc #amanda kinsella #michael kinsella #a whole lotta kinsellas #charlie cox #hot men are hot #dads too

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bepractical · 2 years

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Kin: Season 1, Episode 2, Part 2

Welcome to part 2 of the second episode recap of Kin. When last we left the Kinsellas, Frank had been threatened by Eamon, given a big bag of blood money from Caolan Moore, and left alone in an abandoned parking lot to stew. Regular reminder that these recaps are spoiler filled for the entire first season. BEWARE! GO BACK WHILE YOU CAN!

See the masterlist here.

Let's kick off the post with Anna, who’s happily eating her cereal and hasn’t yet been (re)traumatized by Kinsella bullshit.

Anna’s hanging in her grandmother’s kitchen when a text pops up on her phone with a link to an article about the shooting.

Anna secrets off to her room to listen to a news story that mentions two male relatives were with Jamie when he died, including one who just got released from prison. I’m aghast that this is how she finds out her dad was out of prison.

Michael and Jimmy meet at a bar. Jimmy reaches out for Michael but Michael doesn’t reach back. I am so sad now that I’ve noticed that Michael never instigates physical comfort. Give that man a hug, Michael! It'll be good for you both!

Michael gives his condolences and mentions he spoke with Amanda, which stops Jimmy in his tracks. Michael tells the truth, that they spoke about the shooting and nothing more, but Jimmy doesn’t believe him. He can’t stop himself from questioning Michael and Amanda’s relationship and testing them both, even when he’s grieving his son. Poor Jimmy. Michael’s lost for words but Jimmy cuts him off before he can spit something out by ordering drinks for them both. Michael, who hasn’t drank since his release from prison, tries to object, but Jimmy shuts him down. Jimmy looks ready to burst into tears at any minute, so Michael doesn’t fight him on it.

The conversation that follows is awkward and terrible. Michael tries to convince Jimmy to go home to Amanda, but Jimmy is still smarting from their argument earlier. Michael tries to convince Jimmy to give Amanda a break, but Amanda doesn’t have the monopoly on grief and Jamie was Jimmy’s son, too and anyway, Michael needs to stay the fuck out of Jimmy and Amanda’s marriage. They talk about the shooting and Caolan Moore. Jimmy is itching to take him out but Michael can’t be a part of it, not if he wants to see Anna.

Jimmy: What about Jamie? Doesn’t he count? Fuck you, Michael. You’ve done it before for money, do it for family.

So here’s our confirmation that Michael was a contract killer.

At the compound, Amanda is talking to her parents about Jimmy’s absence and funeral arrangements. After beating around the bush a bit, her mother correctly points out that Jamie is dead because of his association with the Kinsellas. Amanda does not react well to that. She hightails it out of there for a bout of reckless driving.

First she drives to the crime scene, where someone is washing away the blood. That’s not great.

She drives away crying, and while she’s trying to pull herself together at a light, she almost misses when it turns green. The guy behind her beeps aggressively, then pulls alongside her to cuss her out some before driving away. Grief now converted to anger, Amanda follows the guy and slams into him at the next light.

At the hospital, Frank arrives to bitch out a now awake Eric and Nikki for lying. Eric still hasn’t cottoned on that he’s the one who’s ultimately responsible for all of this. He wants Frank to go after Moore and get off his back, but Frank shuts him down hard. Frank and Eric have a terrible relationship built on toxic masculinity and feelings of inferiority, with Frank using Eric as an outlet for his anger because he’s too chickenshit to take it out on anyone else. More on that in future eps.

Frank warns Eric not to tell anyone he was involved ‘especially Jimmy’ but Eric still doesn’t understand why that may be a problem. Eric is an idiot. Frank also tells him not to go after Caolan Moore, or offer his assistance to Jimmy for anything.

At the accident site, Jimmy picks up Amanda, who looks like death. She tells him on the ride home that she doesn’t want anyone but family and close friends at the funeral. Jimmy acquiesces, having caught on that Amanda’s snapped completely, and maybe taking some of Michael’s advice. Then Frank calls and asks Jimmy and Michael to come over to Birdy’s for a talk.

Once there, Frank tells them both that Caolan Moore is off limits. Jimmy is furious and Michael slowly inches away from him like he’s a bomb about to go off. I’ll take my moments of levity where I can.

Frank is trying to be reasonable but really, when you murder a member of a violent crime family, you get murdered back, right? You gotta check your morals at the door when you watch this show. When Frank fails to calm Jimmy, Birdy steps in and promises that they’ll get Moore eventually. That’s not good enough for Jimmy. And then Frank, the dumbass, brings out Moore’s bag of money and says it’s from Eamon. It’s 150,000 Euro. Sounds like a reasonable amount for the death of Jimmy’s eldest son, right? Oi.

Jimmy: What am I supposed to do with this, Frank? Buy a fucking boat?

Birdy tries to argue that Frank’s doing what’s best for everyone. Behind Jimmy, Michael’s doing his best not to make it too obvious he thinks that’s a load of crap. And then Jimmy does what any loving father would do when presented with blood money for his beloved son. He pisses directly in the bag, shakes it over Birdy’s floor and leaves. Birdy tries to convince Michael they have no choice and it seems like Michael is firmly staying out of it.

At home, Jimmy skirts telling Amanda about what happened at Frank’s. Anthony sees his mom is injured and freaks out, so she runs over to comfort him. She tells him it’s alright to be sad, and angry. She pulls Anthony in for a hug while Jimmy looks ready to drink himself to death in the other room.

Anna walks past Michael’s house unaware that just inside he's staring at the bullet hole of doom.

Anna arrives home to find her case worker talking with her grandmother about Michael’s release. They ask her to tell her grandmother if Michael tries to reach out to her.

I appreciate these adults trying to look after Anna’s welfare, really, but Anna is a teenager. She’s past the age where they can prevent her from seeing her dad if that’s what she wants. Has anyone asked her what she wants? Have they thought about trying to facilitate monitored visits? I get it from the grandmother’s side- he did presumably kill her daughter (tossing that presumably in there without comment for now, we’ll get to it)- but making these decisions without Anna’s input just encourages her to be secretive.

Back at Michael’s, Frank shows up for a talk. Michael finally tells Frank what he’s thinking, that it’s wrong to let Moore get away. Michael asks what Frank would be doing if Eric was the one killed.

Frank: I’d be saying the exact same thing. But it wasn’t Eric, and Jamie’s not your kid either.

Low blow, Frank. Frank brings up Anna, as starting a feud would ruin Michael’s chances of seeing her. Then we get to the purpose of this meeting; Frank wants Michael to help wrangle Jimmy. Michael hmms his agreement, but this talk did not seem like a success.

Frank is really desperate to get Michael on his side AND put him in his place. Frank is the head of the family, Michael has already refused to come back to work. Michael and Jimmy together (we haven’t even gotten to Amanda!) could easily threaten Frank’s authority. Most importantly, Michael is the killer in the family. If anyone is going to kill Moore, it’s gonna be him. Frank treats him like a threat that needs to be neutralized. Putting him in charge of his volatile brother doesn’t help matters.

At the hospital, Eric tells Fudge and Kem to let the thing with Moore go. He’s miserable about it and Fudge and Kem both openly question the decision so much that Eric has to shut them down. I’m pretty sure this is the moment Kem decides to jump ship.

At the compound, Jimmy sleeps while Amanda stares at the ceiling. She instigates some grief sex. Simultaneously, Frank finds relief with a male bartender. This is the first confirmation we get of Frank’s sexuality. It’s complicated, we’ll get to it.

The next morning, the family liaison is back and ready to take Amanda and Jimmy to Jamie.

Meanwhile, Michael has hooked up with a family lawyer to figure out what he needs to do to see Anna. She’s as honest as possible, to sum up: Michael hasn’t seen Anna in over eight years, Michael could be a danger to Anna, Michael was responsible for her mother’s death (presumably), Michael’s family is dangerous, Michael’s been questioned in numerous murder investigations (though never charged). In closing, it’s not going to be easy and it’s not going to happen anytime soon. Michael is crushed.

At the morgue, Jimmy and Amanda go to see Jamie’s body. In an episode full of difficult scenes, this is one of the worst. Amanda panics. She finds a tattoo she didn’t know Jamie had and tries to convince herself it’s not him. She leans down to kiss his cheek but the body doesn’t smell like Jamie. Maybe it’s not him, after all? Jimmy comforts her as much as possible but they’re both verklempt, as am I, and anyone else watching this show.

We cut to the two of them outside the morgue. Amanda is back on the revenge wagon, converting that grief to anger at lightning speed, and Jimmy’s forced to tell her Frank wants him to stand down. He says no one will go against Frank to help him. Amanda knows better and tells him to talk to Michael again, to tell Michael he needs him.

I’ve seen a lot of speculation about what this means, to Jimmy and to Michael. For Jimmy, I think it means swallowing his pride and admitting he can’t do this without Michael. Mixed in his and Michael’s reactions is the reality that Jamie was Michael’s son, and that Michael has some measure of responsibility for him, whether he admits it or not. For Michael, what Jimmy is invoking here is the sense of family loyalty that is essential to the Kinsellas. Michael may not be wild about the family hierarchy but he believes in family loyalty and if Jimmy comes to him and begs for help he’s not going to turn him away easily. We, as an audience, also know that Michael just had a terrible meeting with his lawyer, which definitely doesn’t help his continued resistance. My two cents.

Back at home, Amanda gives Jimmy a death stare until he agrees to talk to Michael.

At Michael’s, Jimmy gives his pitch. He really goes for it. “I was Jamie’s dad, Michael,” he says, “not you.” Jimmy is so insecure about his role as Jamie’s dad, despite Michael never challenging it. Jimmy wants to know what Michael would do, if it was Anna. If Jimmy can’t avenge Jamie’s death, what kind of father is he? Michael’s face during this whole conversation is very open; he’s made his decision. I think he was halfway there after the second conversation with Frank, but the lawyer pushed him over. He’ll help Jimmy after all.

For the next episode, go here.

#kin amc #kin #michael kinsella #amanda kinsella #frank kinsella #jimmy kinsella #a whole lotta kinsellas #anna areoye

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bepractical · 2 years

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Kin: Season 1, Episode 1, Part 1

Welcome to my rambling, spoiler filled recaps for the first season of Kin. Check out this post for some background and a list of characters.

Everything from this point forward will be full of spoilers for the entire first season of Kin. I like to look at seasons as a whole, so don't be surprised if I discuss something that happens later in the season in this recap. I decided last minute to add screenshots, which I am not good at taking and which made an already long post even longer. Enjoy!

The episode kicks off with a curly haired redhead buying some candy before hopping on a motorcycle to go shoot some folks. He doesn’t get a name (possibly ever?) so we’ll call him Mini Michael, for reasons that will be evident later.

Elsewhere, Amanda stuffs a bunch of cash in a floor safe at the compound and Frank and Dotser arrive for a meet up with Eamon. They note some cops camped out in the parking garage of Eamon’s hotel, but that’s surprisingly inconsequential.

The meeting with Eamon is unbalanced from the start. It’s a big, honking hint that Frank is neither an intimidating man nor a strong leader. Eamon, who is both of those things but also so full of hubris that if it were a lifting gas he’d be halfway through the atmosphere, bulldozes right over Frank with ease.

To sum up: a guy named Caolan Moore, whose name we will hear so many times in this series it will stop sounding like a name altogether, is trying to encroach on Kinsella territory. Eamon isn’t inclined to help them because Moore gets all his drugs from Eamon and the Kinsellas don’t. Eamon is angling to be the only supplier in Dublin, but the Kinsellas want to maintain some independence.

Now for a game we’ll be playing a lot this season, “What would Bren do?” In episode 7, Bren gives Frank a lot of shit for his lack of control and poor decisions as head of the family. As this clusterfuck unfolds let us ask ourselves, what would Bren do? Would Bren have let Eamon wave off his concerns about Caolan Moore? Would Bren have agreed to increase Eamon’s cut in order to appease him? Would Bren have even brought Moore to Eamon at all, or just killed him outright? From the little we see of him, I’m inclined to say no, across the board. Another question in a similar vein: Would Eamon or Moore have tried that same shit with Bren in the first place?

Back to the compound!

Amanda is getting dressed up/coked up for Michael’s return. Michael, meanwhile, is having a quiet car ride home with Jimmy, where we get our first Jimmy-to-Michael neck clasp. Take note, Jimmy is often demonstratively affectionate with Michael and Michael rarely, if ever, reciprocates.

A quick word about Michael. When we meet him, he is fresh off of an eight year stint in prison. The Michael we meet is calm and thoughtful, a little lost in his own head but laser focused on seeing Anna. He’s also struggling with serious health problems. He is not the man he was before prison. As the series progresses we see hints of who that man could have been but we don’t know much for certain. More (and more and more) later. First, treat yourself and take a moment to stare at Charlie’s sweet, fuzzy little face.

Compound. Birdy insists on serving her itsy bitsies at the party, instead of Amanda’s comparatively larger bitsies. Amanda tells Anthony to clean up his crap and change, and finds Jamie in the kitchen with bad-influence Eric, who is snorting coke off her kitchen island. Jamie was recently suspended from school and Amanda had to strong arm him back in. Jamie is not thrilled. No word on what he did to get suspended.

Jimmy and Michael finally arrive. Jimmy gifts Michael with another neck clasp and a little kiss on the head. Does Michael have his drinking boots on? He does not!

The family minus Frank, who’s still en route from Eamon’s, greet Michael. Greetings of note: Birdy is first in line (we’ll get to it); Eric is enthusiastic, though he can’t help but throw in a prison rape joke (we’ll get to it); the hug with Jamie is particularly sweet and a possible harbinger of things to come; Amanda hangs back and requires some prodding from Jimmy.

Jimmy: You’re not gonna say hi to Michael?

Amanda: I will. I am.

We are episode one and Jimmy is already testing Amanda. FYI, he does this A LOT. It makes me curious what their relationship was like before Michael went to jail. Michael was with Allison then, so maybe the Michael and Amanda of it all was less of an issue? I am fascinated by the dynamic between these three. Michael and Amanda’s awkward little hug and kiss is something.

Frank arrives and after another round of hugging Jimmy takes Michael down to his snake room in the basement. It is exactly as advertised.

Jimmy has the key to Michael’s house and they spend some time dancing around the mystery of why Michael may not want to go back there before Jimmy pulls Michael in for head kiss number 2. Jimmy is totally the softy of the family.

Out on the porch, Frank and Eric fight about Caolan Moore (drink!). They both go for the throat. Eric wants his dad to be more like his vision of a gangster. He calls him out for being weak and makes derogatory allusions to Frank’s sexuality. Frank shuts the conversation down by calling Eric useless. Eric looks heartbroken.

Jimmy tries to cool things off when their awkwardness spills out into the family gathering but the party is officially over.

Michael goes home, but not before getting another housing offer from Birdy. Birdy’s relationship with Michael is interesting to me. I could speculate what role she played in Michael and Jimmy’s childhood but I think her relationship with Michael is made even more complicated, due to Michael’s role in the family. We’ll get to it.

Poor Michael walks into his dark house in a series of beautifully framed shots before staring at the ominous bullethole of accidentally killing your significant other until he has a seizure. It’s really frightening. Good job on the show for making his symptoms pretty subtle this go around, and another shout out to the massive amounts of groundwork laid in this first episode.

Back at Amanda and Jimmy’s, Jimmy gets cuddly with Amanda while she’s loading the dishwasher. I’d like to state for the record that this scene was my lightbulb moment for most of the Jimmy/Amanda/Michael dynamics. My thought process went something like this:

Oh, Jimmy’s trying to get some.

But it’s a little awkward.

Is Jimmy overcompensating?

Is Jimmy acting jealous?

Is Jimmy jealous of Michael?

I bet Michael and Amanda had a thing in the past.

OMG I bet Jamie is Michael’s kid.

In conclusion, I’m a genius. Despite Jimmy’s promise to help with the dishes in the morning, Amanda leaves him hanging.

In the car, Nikki tries to make small talk with Eric. Michael isn’t what she thought he’d be, because quiet, subdued and fuzzy Michael doesn’t scream contract killer. Eric is too pissed to engage, though he does offer this: Michael seems shy, right up until you cross him. The pair run across Caolan Moore (!) and some of his flunkies and Eric tries to start something. Moore calls Eric a gay slur, an obvious reference to Frank, which sets him into a berserker rage. Nikki breaks things up but not before Eric’s ego gets bruised.

Back at their house, Eric strips angrily while Nikki tries to calm him down. Let's take a moment to enjoy that.

He convinces her not to tell Frank anything about what he did, or what he plans to do, which is to hunt down Moore IN HIS OWN CAR, WITHOUT COVERING HIS FACE and shoot randomly in Moore’s general direction. Eric is a dumbass.

(The caption for this photo says "Nikki braces herself for Eric to do something stupid" and it's true. Girl must do a lot of deep breathing exercises.)

You can find part 2 here.

#kin amc #michael kinsella #jimmy kinsella #frank kinsella #amanda kinsella #kin #a whole lotta kinsellas

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bepractical · 1 year

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Kin: Season 1, Episode 9, Part 3

It’s here! My final recap for season 1 of Kin.

Before I get into it, a little ramble. I first watched Kin as free in-flight entertainment on a plane from NYC to Dublin. I made it halfway through the third episode. By the time Michael killed Caolan Moore, got locked in the bar, freaked out and possibly triggered a seizure, I was done. It was too much to take in on public transit. Hours later, safely ensconced in my Dublin hotel, I hunted down some episode recaps to spoil the hell out of me until I was able to sate my fears, re: Michael having a seizure in the middle of a hit. Then I discovered RTÉ player and watched the remaining episodes from my phone. Yes, I spent my first day in Ireland getting over my jetlag and watching Kin. Worth it.

Sometime later, I got the idea to do some recaps. There’s a real dearth of lengthy episode recaps out there, especially for shorter run shows. I started making them for me and still do, though I’m always delighted when people interact with my posts. Now the season is finally coming to an end and I need a new project. All that blabber to say, I’ve had a good time, and I’m gonna ride this wave of productivity right on into Daredevil. So if you like Charlie Cox but sassier, with tighter clothes, morals and occasional fights in hallways, stick around. I can't promise I'll be timely but I'm committing to the first season at least, though I hope to do the whole series.

Now you may be thinking, 'But bepractical, why not do recaps for Treason? That’s a short run show with little coverage.' The truth is, I read a spoiler for Treason on accident and my heart is not prepared to watch. Maybe one day.

Back to Kin! For previous parts see the masterlist here. Now onto the recap, where shit is going down! And by shit I mean, Eamon. And by down I mean, to the floor of a parking garage somewhere in Spain.

At the compound, Amanda arrives home and books it over to Birdy’s for a debrief with Birdy and Frank.

She tells them Eamon is down for peace, but he wants Eric. So that’s decided then. Birdy is 50 flavors of shocked but Frank is pissed. He correctly deduces that Amanda is at least partially responsible but I don’t care because seriously, fuck Frank.

Remember, Amanda has no intention of going through with this deal. The plan was always to kill Eamon. This charade has two purposes I can see: 1) to give Amanda and Anthony safe passage to attend Jamie’s mass and 2) to fuck with Frank. Frank has shown the bare minimum of consideration for Amanda and Jimmy’s loss. I wager Amanda wanted Frank to have a taste of what it feels like to lose your son.

Amanda: It’s hard, even considering the idea of losing a child. You can try to imagine how painful it’s gonna be, how empty you’ll feel, how much you’ll blame yourself every day for what happened, but you won’t even get fucking close. But you’re the boss Frank. I’m sure you’ll do what’s best for everyone.

Go go go Amanda! She walks out of there with the hint of a smirk on her face while Frank overreacts like the overcompensating dickbag he is. He accuses Amanda of conspiring against him and even Birdy gets fed up. BIRDY.

Birdy: Stop being so fucking pathetic. ‘You’re the boss’ then show it! Stop stamping your feet and shouting and do something!

Birdy truly speaks for us all. She reasons that Eamon was always going to want a head, and if Frank wants to save Eric he’s going to have to do something. Good luck with that, sister.

Meanwhile, at the jail, Eric is trying to save himself. Good boy! Nikki's come to see him in the jail infirmary, where he’s recovering from beating himself up and where there are no cameras. I’m so proud!

The two have a hushed conversation where Eric apologizes for not thinking of Nikki more. That’s good. Then he asks her to help find the eye witness who saw him do the shooting and to set up a hit on them. He needs her help but he wants her hands clean so he tells her to leave all the details of the hit up to Kem. KEM. Poor Eric's so far out of the loop, he may as well be in Mars. I am curious to see if and how this bites him in the ass next season. Nikki agrees and I’m so happy to see someone in this family other than Amanda do some plotting. It’s not much but I’ll take it.

Side note but apparently the cost of a hit is 20K, with 10K on top, when the job is done.

Amanda and Anthony show up for mass at the church where Jamie’s funeral was held. Amanda’s parents are there. I have this fear they’re going to kill Anthony next season, some kind of full circle bologna, but man do I hope I’m wrong. Look at this sweet face.

I’m gonna fly over most of these church scenes, which are cut throughout the next few scenes, where we catch up with Frank, Jimmy and Michael. I’ve read the mass portion is an homage to a scene in The Godfather Part II, which I have never seen. It’s possible it would have read more heavy handed if I had seen it but the gist is, the mass signals a transformation for Amanda, both in terms of her devotion to the family and her role as acting head. More on that later.

Back at the compound, Birdy’s cleansing fire has sputtered out. She’s just a sucker for her brother, I guess. She offers to call Eamon and see what other deals can be made while Frank pouts on the couch.

In the wilds of Ireland, Kem and Con meet clandestinley to discuss Kem’s supposed tip on Kinsella whereabouts. It’s a trap!

Jimmy comes up on them, face covered and gun out, but dude cannot shoot. Con hits the gas and Kem, like a boss, grabs the wheel and forces him to crash.

Con hops out of the car and tries to run but Jimmy’s finally found his trigger finger and shoots him till he runs out of bullets. Kem freaks and hightails it out of there. Even behind his mask Jimmy is horrified at himself.

Back at the compound, sad boi Frank snorts an entire handful of coke. For the first time in like, six episodes, I feel a little bit of pity for him. He was just not equipped to deal with this situation.

While Frank’s od’ing, Birdy is on the phone with Eamon. She begs for a compromise that doesn’t involve Eric’s death and Eamon spills the beans on his deal with Amanda.

This whole thing frustrates me so much. It doesn’t matter if Amanda hypothetically chose Eric to die, she had no intention of honoring her deal with Eamon in the first place. Also, Eamon makes it clear that Amanda chose which Kinsella to die, which means someone was dying to appease Eamon. What better option is there? It’s just a cheap way to set up conflict with the family next season and I really hope they blow past it.

Birdy runs inside to tell Frank that he was right, Amanda was out to get Eric all along! She finds him passed out on the carpet in a puddle of blood, from the nosebleed he got from his handful of coke. It’s pretty gnarly. She tries to wake him and calls emergency services. As much as Frank frustrates me I like this sibling relationship. I'm not sure if it's worth keeping Frank alive but I'd also like to see some development on his part. His spiral into ineptitude deserves a recovery.

And then, my favorite thing that may or may not have been intentional in this episode. We flip back to the church right as the priest announces, 'This is the gospel according to Matthew,' then immediately flash to the airport with Eamon. Guess who’s on his way? It’s Michael, aka Charlie Cox, aka MATTHEW MURDOCK! Intentional or not, you decide.

Eamon’s heading out of the airport with his luggage and his ex-wife’s birthday gift when he runs into Man Bun. He’s come to take Eamon directly to his dad, Eamon’s supplier, to discuss all that missing drug money.

Eamon’s visibly freaked but has no choice but to go with Man Bun and his flunky.

They enter the parking garage and are almost to their car when Man Bun and his flunky go down with matching single shots to the head. Eamon turns around in shock and the camera spins to reveal Michael. Heck yeah!

Eamon tries to plead his case- Amanda made a deal! The feud is over! Michael, cool as cucumber tells him Amanda lied.

He shoots Eamon right in the eyeball. Man oh man, did he deserve it. There’s a quick flash as Eamon falls of the woman from his vision that I still don’t understand and then he’s gone.

That’s the stuff.

There’s a few danglers in this scene that I’m guessing next season will address. First off, Michael just killed three men in an airport parking garage. Yes, he was wearing a hat, and he left his gun behind (which is apparently The Move when you’re an assassin) but that place had to be chockfull of cameras. For now I’m choosing to believe that Michael is a good assassin who knows what he’s doing and didn’t put himself at unnecessary risk. We’ll see how that plays out next season. Second, Michael killed Man Bun, the son of a big time drug lord. They can handwave killing multiple people in a heavily monitored public space in the middle of the day, but they can’t handwave that.

In the wilds, Jimmy pukes his guts up before setting fire to Con’s body and all the rest of the evidence. There’s a shot of a white sneaker that is definitely not Con’s. At first I was worried it was Kem’s, then I thought it might have been Jimmy’s. Until further notice I’m calling it an error.

Cut to Michael leaving the garage.

Let's take a minute to discuss how the two Kinsella brothers react to murder. Jimmy-the-softy, who had never murdered anyone before, threw up immediately. He scrambled through the clean up but that initial, visceral reaction got me. I really hope he doesn't lose his softness next season. It's the best part of his character, I think. Meanwhile, Michael showed no emotion whatsoever. Not a hint of enjoyment, for finally getting to kill the man who had terrorized him and his family, HIS DAUGHTER, for so long, but also no doubt or regret. This complete detachment is alarming and very Michael. The show has blugeoned us over the head again and again with the fact that this life is not good for Michael. He'll do what needs to be done but he gets no joy out of it.

Finally, Amanda lights a candle, presumably for Jamie.

Her mom approaches her with a plan her and her husband concocted, Operation: Get Amanda Out of This Damn Crime Family Already. Unforunately it’s too little, too late. Amanda’s a Kinsella now.

And that's all folks! The first season of Kin. What do you think? Any thoughts or feedback? I may do one more wrap up post before I move on, we'll see. Otherwise, I hope to see you in Season 2!

#kin amc #amanda kinsella #michael kinsella #jimmy kinsella #birdy goggins #frank kinsella #a whole lotta kinsellas #con doyle #eamon cunningham #charlie cox #clare dunne

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