Can you believe Jaime saw Joanne sitting behind a book, grumpy and unapproachable, and was like well I'm gonna seduce her... "How do I make this woman fall in love with me?"
I mean I definitely believe it but hearing Jaime tell the story, wow. This panel was so good.
I think, if you truly love someone, you want them to be happy even if you don’t agree with their choices. You can love someone and know that… think that they’re making the wrong choice but still allow them.
- Joanne Kelly, on 'Instinct’ 4.15
Dear god it's a strahmrez kinda week. I cannot stop thinking about how Strahm never left her hospital room. The only scenes we see of him in the hospital are in Lindsey's room.
She meant so much to him. Ough.
This specific frame always makes me sick too because he's just staring at the pool of blood where her face should've been (until Hoffman comes in, ofc)
Myka: Gross. And no. That’s her nightmare to live with.
Helena: It wasn’t all that nightmarish at the time.
Pete: Ayyy! You hear that, Myka? Your wife said that I—
Helena: Until he burped into my mouth.
Pete: Look. I said I was sorry.
Myka: Be honest. That’s the real reason you pulled the Tesla on him.
Helena: I sincerely regret my lack of follow-through.
Pete: All right. Okay. Relax. You two wouldn’t even be together if it wasn’t for me, so I think a little thanks is in order.
Helena: How’s that now?
Myka: Yes, Pete. Please enlighten us.
Pete: If I hadn’t completely and repeatedly grossed H.G. out, she might have fallen in love with me, and then you’d really be SOL.
Helena: What is eso el?
Pete: Single. Old. Lesbians.
Helena looks to Myka confused.
Myka: I’m sure that made sense in your mind.
Helena: Why would I be with you if I were a—?
Myka: No, no. You were right.
Myka puts a hand on Helena’s arm and shakes her head.
Myka: We have got to stop asking.
Helena: But I have to know why his brain refuses to work.
Myka: If you take it apart, there’s no putting it back together.
Helena: It is its own curiosity.
Myka: Side effects? Being excruciatingly annoying.
Helena: Burping into the mouths of others.
Myka: Thinking Helena would ever fall in love with you.
Pete: Yeah, yeah. Say your little quips. But tonight, when you two are in bed--
Myka: Please stop.
Pete: --doing your little hanky-panky--
Myka: He's not stopping.
Helena pats Myka's hand.
Helena: I know, dear.
Pete: --I just want you to remember exactly how you got there.
Helena: Because she finds my attempts at self-destruction and global annihilation charming?
Myka: Because I drove eight hours to Boone and dragged her Victorian ass home after I received a wedding invitation through Evite?
Helena: Will you never let that go?
Myka: I will never let that nor your Victorian ass go.
Helena: We don't have to keep saying that.
Pete: And who is the one that encouraged you, Myka, to keep fighting for you, Victorian Ass?
Helena sighs, defeated.
Pete: Every. Single. Time.
Helena: Oh, are we not counting the time you tried to kill my conscience by smashing the Janus Coin with a rock?
Pete points at Helena.
Pete: We are not.
When Pete walks out of the room it is with a finger tapping against his temple.
Pete: Think about it.
Later that night, when Myka is trying to touch everything and do anything but think about it…
Myka: I’m sorry.
Helena: What is wrong with you, woman?
Myka: Pete is in my head.
Helena: You’re thinking about Peter? Right now?
Myka: No. I’m trying not to think about him. But he's in my head. He did that on purpose.
Helena flops back on her side of the bed and sighs.
Helena: You can’t just stop touching me when you’re in the middle of touching me.
Myka: I’m sorry. I know. I’ll make it up to you. I just… need to soak my brain in cognitive bleach for a little bit.
Myka stares up at the ceiling.
Several moments of quiet pass.
Myka: Helena.
Helena: Abandoner.
Myka smiles.
Myka: Do you remember your cavorite room?
Helena: Do I remember the thing I invented, built with my own hands, and actually used to thrust you and Peter up onto the ceiling while I made my first of many grand get aways?
Myka: Saying thrust and Peter in the same sentence is not helping anything.
Helena: Yes, I remember the room. I have not actually been infected by whatever affliction Peter suffers from.
Myka: Saying Peter at all is not helping anything.
Helena: What about the room, my love?
Myka: Did you ever -- I mean, back then, with the company you kept -- did you ever... you know?
Helena laughs, incredulous.
Helena: The company I kept? Those were mostly Charles' trysts.
Myka: Mostly.
Helena turns her head to Myka.
Helena: Why do you sound so scandalized? Did I ever what?
Myka points up to the ceiling.
Helena turns her head toward the ceiling being pointed to.
Then tilts her head inquisitively as she catches on.
Helena: The logistics were a bit difficult to parse out.
Myka gasps with renewed excitement.
Myka: I love a good puzzle.
Helena: Have you not tired of being hoisted into the sky? It happens just about every other week at this point.
Myka: And yet all we do while we're up there is panic.
Helena: Sometimes some of us enjoy the view.
Helena winks.
Myka: Or pass out.
Myka scrunches her nose and blinks -- yes, with both eyes -- back at Helena.
Helena: This is exactly why you are over there, and I am over here.
Myka: You know, that could have been us. If you'd stuck around for a while.
Helena: A quickie on the ceiling? I'd only just met you.
Myka: You kissed Pete after knowing him for five minutes!
Helena props herself up on her elbow.
Helena: Aha! You are still mad about it.
Myka sighs.
Helena: Peter was right.
She slows.
Helena: And now I can't stop thinking about that.
Myka: I'm not mad about it. I just don't care to be reminded.
Helena: I only made out with him to get what I wanted from him at the time, which was essentially your attention.
Myka arches a brow at Helena.
Helena: And yes, I see how that also doesn't help anything.
Myka: It also makes it sound like Pete was right.
They fall quiet again.
Helena: I think our brains may require more bleach.
For just a little while.
Helena moves her hand into Myka's.
Their fingers curl together.
Helena: Let's go to London.
Myka squints up at Helena.
Helena: And give it a whirl.
Myka twists her lips to the side.
Helena: Clothes on the floor.
Myka arches a brow.
Helena: Bodies on the ceiling.
Myka's smile grows.
Myka: I'm sure we can parse it out.
Myka rolls over to Helena, pushing her back down to the bed.
Helena: Is that a yes on the trip to London?
Myka: Yes. London. Cavorite ceilings. Me, you. A scandal of bare ankles. Absolutely all of that, yes.
Helena: I'll have Claudia book the flight first thing--
Myka: But first here. In our bed. No logistics. No parsing.
Myka kisses Helena.
Helena: And definitely no talk of Peter being right.
Myka: Helena Bering-Wells.
Myka drops her head and lips down to a bare shoulder.
Myka: Gross. And no. That’s her nightmare to live with.
Helena: It wasn’t all that nightmarish at the time.
Pete: Ayyy! You hear that, Myka? Your wife said that I—
Helena: Until he burped into my mouth.
Pete: Look. I said I was sorry.
Myka: Be honest. That’s the real reason you pulled the Tesla on him.
Helena: I sincerely regret my lack of follow-through.
Pete: All right. Okay. Relax. You two wouldn’t even be together if it wasn’t for me, so I think a little thanks is in order.
Helena: How’s that now?
Myka: Yes, Pete. Please enlighten us.
Pete: If I hadn’t completely and repeatedly grossed H.G. out, she might have fallen in love with me, and then you’d really be SOL.
Helena: What is eso el?
Pete: Single. Old. Lesbians.
Helena looks to Myka confused.
Myka: I’m sure that made sense in your mind.
Helena: Why would I be with you if I were a—?
Myka: No, no. You were right.
Myka puts a hand on Helena’s arm and shakes her head.
Myka: We have got to stop asking.
Helena: But I have to know why his brain refuses to work.
Myka: If you take it apart, there’s no putting it back together.
Helena: It is its own curiosity.
Myka: Side effects? Being excruciatingly annoying.
Helena: Burping into the mouths of others.
Myka: Thinking Helena would ever fall in love with you.
Pete: Yeah, yeah. Say your little quips. But tonight, when you two are in bed--
Myka: Please stop.
Pete: --doing your little hanky-panky--
Myka: He's not stopping.
Helena pats Myka's hand.
Helena: I know, dear.
Pete: --I just want you to remember exactly how you got there.
Helena: Because she finds my attempts at self-destruction and global annihilation charming?
Myka: Because I drove eight hours to Boone and dragged her Victorian ass home after I received a wedding invitation through Evite?
Helena: Will you never let that go?
Myka: I will never let that nor your Victorian ass go.
Helena: We don't have to keep saying that.
Pete: And who is the one that encouraged you, Myka, to keep fighting for you, Victorian Ass?
Helena sighs, defeated.
Pete: Every. Single. Time.
Helena: Oh, are we not counting the time you tried to kill my conscience by smashing the Janus Coin with a rock?
Pete points at Helena.
Pete: We are not.
When Pete walks out of the room it is with a finger tapping against his temple.
Pete: Think about it.
Later that night, when Myka is trying to touch everything and do anything but think about it…
Myka: I’m sorry.
Helena: What is wrong with you, woman?
Myka: Pete is in my head.
Helena: You’re thinking about Peter? Right now?
Myka: No. I’m trying not to think about him. But he's in my head. He did that on purpose.
Helena flops back on her side of the bed and sighs.
Helena: You can’t just stop touching me when you’re in the middle of touching me.
Myka: I’m sorry. I know. I’ll make it up to you. I just… need to soak my brain in cognitive bleach for a little bit.
Myka stares up at the ceiling.
Several moments of quiet pass.
Myka: Helena.
Helena: Abandoner.
Myka smiles.
Myka: Do you remember your cavorite room?
Helena: Do I remember the thing I invented, built with my own hands, and actually used to thrust you and Peter up onto the ceiling while I made my first of many grand get aways?
Myka: Saying thrust and Peter in the same sentence is not helping anything.
Helena: Yes, I remember the room. I have not actually been infected by whatever affliction Peter suffers from.
Myka: Saying Peter at all is not helping anything.
Helena: What about the room, my love?
Myka: Did you ever -- I mean, back then, with the company you kept -- did you ever... you know?
Helena laughs, incredulous.
Helena: The company I kept? Those were mostly Charles' trysts.
Myka: Mostly.
Helena turns her head to Myka.
Helena: Why do you sound so scandalized? Did I ever what?
Myka points up to the ceiling.
Helena turns her head toward the ceiling being pointed to.
Then tilts her head inquisitively as she catches on.
Helena: The logistics were a bit difficult to parse out.
Myka gasps with renewed excitement.
Myka: I love a good puzzle.
Helena: Have you not tired of being hoisted into the sky? It happens just about every other week at this point.
Myka: And yet all we do while we're up there is panic.
Helena: Sometimes some of us enjoy the view.
Helena winks.
Myka: Or pass out.
Myka scrunches her nose and blinks -- yes, with both eyes -- back at Helena.
Helena: This is exactly why you are over there, and I am over here.
Myka: You know, that could have been us. If you'd stuck around for a while.
Helena: A quickie on the ceiling? I'd only just met you.
Myka: You kissed Pete after knowing him for five minutes!
Helena props herself up on her elbow.
Helena: Aha! You are still mad about it.
Myka sighs.
Helena: Peter was right.
She slows.
Helena: And now I can't stop thinking about that.
Myka: I'm not mad about it. I just don't care to be reminded.
Helena: I only made out with him to get what I wanted from him at the time, which was essentially your attention.
Myka arches a brow at Helena.
Helena: And yes, I see how that also doesn't help anything.
Myka: It also makes it sound like Pete was right.
They fall quiet again.
Helena: I think our brains may require more bleach.
For just a little while.
Helena moves her hand into Myka's.
Their fingers curl together.
Helena: Let's go to London.
Myka squints up at Helena.
Helena: And give it a whirl.
Myka twists her lips to the side.
Helena: Clothes on the floor.
Myka arches a brow.
Helena: Bodies on the ceiling.
Myka's smile grows.
Myka: I'm sure we can parse it out.
Myka rolls over to Helena, pushing her back down to the bed.
Helena: Is that a yes on the trip to London?
Myka: Yes. London. Cavorite ceilings. Me, you. A scandal of bare ankles. Absolutely all of that, yes.
Helena: I'll have Claudia book the flight first thing--
Myka: But first here. In our bed. No logistics. No parsing.
Myka kisses Helena.
Helena: And definitely no talk of Peter being right.
Myka: Helena Bering-Wells.
Myka drops her head and lips down to a bare shoulder.
2087
stormborns
yousharknotpass
