Cuntry Roads, Take Me Home

FUCK

Thank you, that is all.

Just kidding, it's not. God, this ep. Porthos eps hit hard. Howard Charles, baby, how do you feel about joining me and my wife in a three-way marriage? Are you already married? They can come too, we can get two king beds and nail them together, I'm cool with that.

Anyway, GODDAMMIT. Porthos reining everything in. Having to keep his cool when his evil half-sis and her shitty husband are spouting shit at the dinner table. Like, we like to play Aramis as the peacekeeper and Porthos as a bit of a loose canon, but ARAMIS is the one who loses his shit first in that situation. Porthos offers Bro-In-Law a way out, keeps cool, and only puts the beatdown on him when he has no other choice.

And he wants to believe the Marquis is telling the truth SO BADLY. He WANTS to believe, but there's always just this tiny little bit of doubt in his face. He's been lied to by powerful men too many times, and the verrrry subtle little look he gives the Marquis when he shows him the fake picture of his "mother". It's really quick, but once you know what it means OH BOISE. He knows something's up.

The TEARS in his eyes when he talks to Treville. AAAARGGGGGGG. Howard, baby, we have room at the dinner table for you.

AND the B-Plot with Aramis and the sex trafficking ring. IDK if the writers or Santiago Carbrera had Aramis's 'grew up in a brothel' backstory in place yet, but IF THEY DID. Oh boy. There's a reason Aramis has a knowing look as he kinda... looks around... the room with all the sexy paintings. There's a reason he knows EXACTLY how to play his presence off to Madame LaVesque. He knows what sleazy johns talk like. He knows what brothels look like. NOW, we can't be sure how much of s3 was planned by this point, so it could be that Aramis just knows brothels because he spends a lot of time in them, he's got an active sex life, our boy does. BUT I think it could very easily be read as Aramis recognizing certain key elements of the whole situation from his childhood, and responding based on that.

My daughter, 1.5yo, extremely verbal and given to mimicry: My hunks! My hunks!

My son, 4.5yo: What's hunks?

Me: Uhh, handsome boys.

My son: I'M a hunks. I like handsome boys. I like hunks.