#orangexwhite

Okay when in the hell did I get this? I am so sorry anon, I have not checked my inbox in months and tumblr never told me this was here.

Okay, so, thoughts on Larry and Freddy, dear God. Well, for starters, there is literally no interpretation that makes the slightest bit of sense that doesn’t involve those two loving each other. You want to debate on the exact nature of that love then that’s fine, but yeah, no, when you shoot and kill one of your oldest friends to protect someone despite all the evidence that that someone has in fact betrayed the group and got you all killed/arrested, or you’re willing to die rather than carry on lying to someone because your life is less important than them knowing that you’re sorry... that right there is love. I will not be argued with on this.

Anyway.

I made a post years ago on livejournal about this that had screen shots and everything but, wow, these two are just joined at the hip from the moment they lay eyes on each other. When Freddy’s telling the ‘commode story’, which is amusing enough but you know, not hilarious, Larry responds far more to it than either Joe or Eddie - smiling, laughing and looking at Freddy with this heat in his eyes like goddamn. Then later there is no good reason why they should be going over the plans together, their parts of the heist are relatively unconnected and all things considered Larry should really be sitting with Pink and doing this, but nope. Also in the diner, not only are they sat together but boy are they just, unnecessarily close the whole time. There’s barely a moment goes by that one of them doesn’t have his arm around the other’s chair, and Freddy spends the whole time either looking at Larry with heart eyes or smirking at whoever Larry’s arguing with like “Yeah that’s right my man’s gonna verbally kick your ass”.

But really just, these two break my heart into tiny little pieces. Because wow. Larry just, 100% trusts and loves Freddy so damn much. You feel like in his head they were going to combine their share of the loot and run off to Mexico together after the heist was over. After everything goes tits up and Freddy gets shot he is willing to throw every single rule he has out of the window just to make sure that Freddy is safe. That iconic shot that’s on all the posters, of Pink on the ground with Larry standing over him? That comes about because Pink was willing to let Freddy die and Larry was. not. having. that.

And Freddy. Freddy, Freddy, Freddy oh you poor dumb kid, you got in so far over your head. He thinks he’s a good actor but oh boy is he really kind of not. Went in there with all these good intentions about being a hero but he did not count on Larry, didn’t count on liking the guy so much, falling for him just as much as Larry fell right back. The thing with Long Beach Mike was a red flag - Freddy can pretend all he wants that he’s some cool badass who can detach himself from the job but no.

Fool for love indeed.

I feel like while Freddy was lying there bleeding on the floor in Larry’s arms, he was in fact mostly being honest - he’d have tried to keep Larry’s name out of it, tried to cut him a deal, somehow.There’s a deleted scene where it shows he already picked Larry out of a book of mugshots but even taking that into account I feel like had they lived he’d have twisted the truth to make sure Larry got the most lenient sentence. He thought he could walk in both worlds, do his job as a police officer and also save the criminal who stole his heart. And then lying there, bleeding to death, cops at the door, he could have just left things be, let them both be taken into custody, let Larry find out down the line that Freddy had been lying to him. But no, he had to tell him, he owed him that. He had to know what Larry would do, but he didn’t even care about that, he had to reach for him, hold onto him, and tell him the truth. Tell him the truth and that he was sorry. Kill me if you want but first I need you to know that I’m sorry.

Goddamn stupid kid you break my heart you little shit.

Duality:

Sometimes the weight of not being truthful made him cringe. He would be sitting with White, putting a cigarette to his lips and breathing in so deeply that he became light-headed, nodding at some joke or a callous remark that only his false identity would laugh at--when it hit him, that shock of guilt. His lips would tighten into a thin line, while his fingers clench. That metaphorical anvil flattened him, made his rib cage two-dimensional and his lungs unable to take in any more breath. The moment would leave him a shadow of himself for a second, maybe three at the most. Freddy's eyes would cloud over, as if he were farther than this grime-covered section of Los Angeles. Sometimes, that momentary darkness would be noticeable to those closest to him; they passed it off as reticence, or a groggy remembrance of a foul dream. When it first happened, a few weeks before the heist, White nudged him with his elbow; a soft touch padded by cotton and the sleek fabric of a suit jacket. He knew what would accompany that quick jostle, the familiar "you okay" look none of the others could ever see.