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Arastoo wants to go back to Iran to be with his brother, who is dying of brain cancer. And Cam is pissed. But you know, I get it. Because I am a selfish asshole. Holy shit, did I just agree with Arastoo?! Cam does have a point — a guy who wants to marry her does owe her the chance to talk about this first. The victim has a tattoo made from urine which I know is a prison technique because I watched The X-Files. Run it through the national prison tattoo database. Oh you sweet, stupid meta show, I still love you sometimes.
This is how I feel most of the time when watching this show, Brennan. So not all prisoners are bad, mmkay class? Ya gotta do what ya gotta do. Says the man who spent the time staring at the picture of his beautiful wife and child.
I just look for evidence. And really, 1 Booth should know that already and 2 these are things that should have come out much sooner after her left prison. It sure looks like it. I feel ya, lady. He spent all his time focused on the future.
Never has that been more true than this week. Hahahahacarsarethefuckingworst Angela looks fabulous as always.
Bones Timeline of Love
Not to stereotype or anything… But I find it really hard to believe Angela would disapprove of it. I thought you would have been more of an equal opportunist, Hodgins. Do my eyes deceive me?! Are Booth and Brennan sharing a car scene together?! What is this strange feeling? Which is a totally appropriate context! That being said, the first time I saw this, I was really annoyed, because I thought they were implying that Max was falsely accused, like Booth. It drives me crazy when they whitewash him.
Yet, I also enjoy that Brennan points out that Booth actually was innocent, which is the difference. Unlike their victim, who was there for a reason. I love Brennan and her pragmatism. That feels like a joke setup. Every week, Booth and Brennan hunt down clues to find out the mystery ingredient of their pie-baking tasks! PSYCH the secret ingredient is always love.
Booth is having a religious experience right now. Seriously, Booth looks at pie the way most men look at naked women. Oh Brennan I love you.
It is what it is. This is Bones, where the ridiculous is everyday. Which you know because they are all bald and tattooed. And only accept cash.
Even Brennan wants in on this pie action. Obviously these two would decide to order a pie to take home instead of questioning their suspects. Also, this bakery is the same set from t he hipster butcher shop from season 8. This manager dude is so totally the killer because a second person questioned in the murder and b dude has a serious case of crazy eyes. Brennan says a cash business must be tempting for ex-cons because of course she does. Oh Brennan, you beautiful idiot, you.
At this point, I suspect everyone. Doling sass and taking names Seriously, I love Brennan, so hard. I feel like that is the perfect internet meme line. Brennan has no time for your bullshit. I do appreciate both points — that Cam is vulnerable enough to admit that Arastoo leaving for Iran affects her too.
Reflections on the Series Finale of ‘Bones’
But, I am kind of with Arastoo, too: Jesus, these people at the lab are more compartmentalized than The Container Store. Again, there is an essay to be written on the similarities between the two women.
Someday… LOL, I love when suspects are happy the victim is dead.
Calling it like it is, folks. Despite the name, beetles actually prefer wheat to tobacco. Wow, you sound like your husband. As they waited for a cab outside the club, he briefly let go of her hand to slip his jacket over her shoulders.
The sight of the blue material enveloping her made his heart swell and his arousal grow. She leaned back against him, marveling at how well her head fit in the crook of his shoulder.
She felt safe, yet enthralled with his strong arms around her. One hand was splayed on her hip, while the other traced his name onto her stomach. She tossed Booth's fedora beside her heels. Booth removed his jacket from her shoulders and threw it atop his hat. She attempted to cha-cha to her iPod dock and pushed play. He snickered as she stared upwards and spun in time with her ceiling fan.
After they chugged the water and put the glasses in the dishwasher, Booth joined Brennan, who was still moving, uninhibited, to the upbeat bass line in the living room.
She explained, "I compiled a playlist of current dance and techno music last week to better understand the clubbing subculture.
I found that my enjoyment of these selections was directly correlated to the amount of alcohol I had consumed and the frequency of which I played them.
You like catchy house music. Like it, I mean.
Brennan backed away from Booth. She gently pushed him into an armchair, straddling him and singing, "'Cause you feel like paradise And I need a vacation tonight If I said I want your body now Would you hold it against me? He swallowed audibly, thrusting upwards in tandem with her rotating hips. She unbuttoned his vest, flinging it open and off so she could unbutton his dress shirt. Booth reached behind her and unzipped her dress. Without warning, he secured her legs around his waist and carried her to her dimly lit bedroom.
Tossing her onto the bed, he rid himself of his shirt and undershirt.
Reflections on the Series Finale of ‘Bones’
He strode predatorily toward her. Brennan shimmied to the foot of the bed, reaching for his cocky belt buckle. He tugged her dress over her head, watching it crumple in a glittery heap atop the growing pile of clothes. She yanked his belt out of his belt loops, the buckle clattering loudly as it hit the floor. The sound of her flicking his pants button open and his zipper coming undone resonated through her bedroom, in spite of the music from Brennan's clubbing playlist blasting in the living room.
He toed his striped socks off, his pants dropping with a whoosh. Booth appraised Brennan — her kiss-swollen lips parted, breasts straining against an indigo backless bodice, her matching lacy thong contrasting with her long ivory legs.
She slid backwards, slipped under the covers and leaned back on a couple pillows. Brennan appreciated Booth's tanned, toned form, especially his broad shoulders; his black boxer briefs accentuated his lean oblique muscles, clinging to his erection and backside.
Brennan threw the sheets back. Booth crawled to her and settled between her legs. He propped himself up on his elbows, biceps flexing. She hooked one foot behind his calf and the other around his waist. She etched outlines of his biceps and shoulders with her nails, causing him to shiver.
He tucked a curl behind her ear affectionately and kissed her thoroughly, their mouths and tongues tangling languidly as she scratched his back. Booth pulled back, leaning his forehead against hers. No more being just partners. And sex will not be a biological imperative; it'll be making love. Not that I blame you, of course, but I know what you're offering. I would like to accept the terms now. You know that, right? I have concluded that I feel the same about you, Booth.
He kissed her neck and shoulders as he peered behind her, unhooking the row of clasps on the back of her bodice. He tossed the bodice aside, cupping her breasts, kissing and tweaking her nipples to peaks.
She sighed as he kissed his way to her navel. He teased her, nibbling and squeezing her inner thighs, making her squirm in anticipation. Lying on his stomach, he threw her legs over his shoulders and kissed her pussy, his tongue parting it. He moaned, overwhelmed that he was finally able to do this and that he was driving her crazy. She whimpered, hands fisting his hair, tugging. Her hips lifted off the bed. He ran his thumbs along her opening while plunging his tongue into her. She almost cried at the loss of contact when he pushed two fingers into her.
She couldn't form a coherent thought, much less a snappy rebuttal. His tongue swirled around her clit. His fingers alternately thrust in and out and beckoned inside of her. Her back arched as he devoured her. Her toes curled, digging into the mattress. While relentlessly pumping his fingers into her, he sucked her clit hard. Her hips dropped onto the bed. Her legs felt boneless. He kissed her ankles, lips skating up her legs and torso to her neck.
She sighed, utterly sated. She snuggled closer when he flipped them onto their sides. Facing each other, he gathered her in his arms, their legs entwined, her arms draped around his shoulders. He popped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. Brennan replied haughtily, "Now that I've regained my ability to move, we'll see how smug you are when I'm done with you.
She straddled his waist, leaning down so her breasts brushed his chest. She teased his nipples with her lips and teeth. He hissed, his cock throbbing with want. While kissing down his torso, she met his piercing gaze, knelt between his legs and pulled his boxer briefs off.
She had seen Booth naked once, but that was years ago. Though the image was imprinted in her memory forever, she seemed to have forgotten just how glorious the real naked Booth was. Booth smirked cockily and tipped her chin up to look at him. Still looking at him, she placed an open mouthed kiss on the tip of his dick, her tongue swirling around it.
She massaged his balls in one hand, taking him as far into her mouth as she could. He reminded himself to breathe and tucked her hair behind her ear. She alternately licked and sucked him while her other hand followed, pumping his length. When she paused to toss her hair out of her face, he yanked her upwards so she was lying on top of him. You haven't —" In one swift motion, Booth pinned her beneath him, holding her hands above her head and staring intently at her.
He hovered over her, propped up by his elbows. She began to retort, "Then why — oh, fuck —" Booth interrupted Brennan by letting go of her hands and plunging his hard cock into her soaked pussy.