#mister cousineau

[meep-meep-richie]

'' 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘧* 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘢𝘥. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴.''

[liiionhearted]

MISTER COUSINEAU ARE YOU MAD AT ME 👁👁👁👁👁👁👁 BECAUSE I LOVE YOU 👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁

[wack-ashimself]

*season 3 of barry should be called barry unhinged. He's...what I would expect PTSD to really do to someone...spoilers.

**after kidnapping him then threatening to kill his son and grandson.

"I love you, Mister Cousineau. ... ... ... ... ... ...do you love me?"

*he nods uncomfortably.

"Can you say it?"

*in the most somber of tones.

'I love you, barry'

Can you say it again?

*the loudest silence ever heard.

**credits.

-barry

(the writers of this show are fucking geniuses. Read they already have season 4 written, so that's cool).

[szramix]

Loneliness is not lack of company; it is lack of purpose.

It was an ordinary day. Friday, the seventh of January. Most of the people passing by were smiling, happy that the weekend started, chatting and meeting with their friends or relatives. Yeah, friends and family. Barry sat on the bench near the theatre, rubbing his face furiously. Sometimes he wondered why he even did this anymore. He had no talent, no spark, no...nothing. Sally made it clear, Gene made it clear, everyone staring at him with dumb smiles and mocking in their eyes made it clear. It was supposed to be a genuinely simple scene to do. Just a few words to be said and that's it. Yet again, he couldn't do it. He tried acting it out at home, Sally being his partner, but what could've he possibly got from practice when the woman threw the stack of papers at him after reading halfway through the script. He asked mister Cousineau for help, but the man turned down the plea almost immediately, telling him he didn't have time for such bullshit. Fuches was out of reach and Hank was busy with the mafia and entertaining Cristobal. One thought shot across his mind but he chose to shove it away. That wasn't true. He had friends but they were just busy. They had their shit to deal with and they hadn't had time to spend on him. Still, the sight of other people having such a good time together made his heart clench and hurt for some reason. He was aware that he was awkward and social interactions weren't his strong side but it never meant he hadn't wanted to go out or be close with someone. He wasn't an envious person but the lack of any real bond with anyone was tearing him from the inside. He had Monroe but Fuches was...weird with the level of importance Barry had to him. He was always there if he needed to take someone down or trade Barry's skills for his own advances. Sally loved talking with him when he was praising her and telling how amazing she was. Okay, he was cold sometimes but he cared so much about people he somehow knew and approved. And...no one seemed to care about him...not for the person he was, not without any purpose of using him. He hasn't even noticed the sunset approached. The darkness of the evening surrounded him and he felt it swallowing him. His lungs had forgotten how to work, emptying themselves far too quickly. No matter how many breaths he had taken, there was never enough air to help him. The world around him blurred, lights from the moving cars and street lanterns blinding him. He heard someone's voice and it was way too similar to one of his friends he had shot right in the head. It changed to woman's one, a police officer's, then to a begging cry for mercy from the Afghanistan war victims.

- Please...no...not again.

The whole pallet of feelings coming and going through him made him dizzy and he knew how close he was to pass out. He closed his eyes, waiting for the calm and safe unconsciousness to finally take him away. 

[fanficsandfluff]

Barry: Say the Line

FUCK ME THIS ISN’T EVEN THAT GOOD BUT I NEEDED TO PUT TICKLISH!BARRY INTO WRITING. Thank you for getting me into this show and Bill Hader, @ticklishraspberries

Words: 913

“It’s not what you’re thinking, alright? I wanted this to be a surprise for you, but it just didn’t work out I guess... So, can you get out of my way, please? I love you. You know I love you. I want--- So you--- Fuck!”

Barry took a step back toward his desk and leaned over, finger tracing the lines he had been going through, “Give me the keys. God, why the fuck was that so hard?”

“Baaaabe, I made us some Earl Grey with some honey and milk. You know I heard most people don’t use milk in their tea? Crazy, huh? Can you believe?” NoHo Hank came strutting in with two teacups on a silver platter. He set it down on the desk where Barry’s script had been. The hitman was now pacing the room with script in hand, mumbling the lines he had to memorize over and over again. 

“Thanks,” he said in between lines, giving Hank a glance.

Hank took his cup and twirled a miniature decorative teaspoon through the steaming tea, leaning up against the desk while watching Barry, “What troubles you?”

Barry shook his head, still repeating the words on the page. 

Hank had to admit, he didn’t always get the acting thing Barry was so in love with. But he was always trying to be supportive anyway to keep his favorite man happy. 

“Can you perform?” Hank asked, “Barry. Please? I want to see what you have so far.”

Barry looked up from the script and shrugged, “Yeah?” he got Hank’s head nod of approval and went over to give him a kiss on the cheek, “Alright, cool. Thanks, man. Okay okay, umm...” he threw the script onto the bed in the room and shook out his arms. 

Barry went through the monologue with only a few stumbles, “... I love you. You know I want you,” and he paused again, eyes darting around because god dammit he forgot his line. 

“Wait wait wait...” Barry stood and looked at the ceiling, thinking hard, “Fuck!” he exclaimed again and snatched the script from the bed, “Give me the keys. God dammit! I already screwed that up, why can’t I get that fucking line!?”

Hank was smiling, “Hey! You did super! Why so mad? Come on, this acting can’t be so hard. Here,” he went over to Barry and took the script from his hands. He cleared his throat before reading in an almost comical slow way, “Give me the keys. Give me the keys and I’ll be on my way. See? Easy peasy, easy squeezy!”

Barry had to smirk and roll his eyes at the way Hank was always incorrectly reciting sayings or phrases. It was highly endearing. 

“That’s cuz you’re reading it, idiot,” Barry took the script back and sat on the chair at his desk again, running fingers through his hair. 

Hank pouted and stood where he was for a few extra seconds, “How can I help?”

“No, it’s alright. I need to read it a few more times.”

Hank slid up behind Barry and draped his arms around Barry’s shoulders, his chin resting atop the hitman’s head, “Do it again. I want to hear you say it right. No pauses.”

Barry scoffed, “Gee, thanks for the pep talk, Gene.”

Hank smiled, “Yeah, I can be director! I can totally be director! Say it better!” he pinched both of Barry’s sides where his hands were resting. 

Barry jumped so hard in his chair his knee smashed into the desk and he yelped, “O-Ohow! Hank!” 

“Ohohoho,” Hank was giddy now, and he squeezed again, this time more rapid. Barry’s arms shot to his sides, a giggle slipping from his lips.

“Give me the keys, Barry. Come on, now,” Hank was now reaching forward and hungrily kneading into Barry’s stomach. Barry practically screamed and he lurched forward in his seat, a blush creeping up his neck and ears at an alarming rate. 

“Youhuhu fucking dumbass! Stohohop!” Barry had his head pressed against the very script on the desk and his hands were moving to fight off Hank’s attacking ones. 

Hank was beaming as he darted his hands every which way he could reach on Barry’s torso, and he could not be happier with the reaction he was getting. Barry was trapped between him and the chair and the desk so he couldn’t do much in his weakened state.

“Come on, Mister Actor. Say the line,” Hank bent down low to Barry’s thrashing head and took a few teasing nibbles out of his ear. Barry squeaked and he ducked his head low again.

“Hahahahank!” 

“Give me the keys!”

“Gihihihive--GAH! Youhuhu fucker! Gihihihive me the k-keys!” Barry finally wheezed out. 

Hank was grinning ear to ear and he relented on Barry, “Good! See, I told you I can be director. Told you so mister--- Barry!” he was startled and took a few staggered steps backward when Barry whipped around in his chair and ran at Hank, planting him onto their bed. 

“Barry! Babe! Stop wait! You know I love making you giggle like that--”

“Giggle? I think we went a little farther than giggling, didn’t we?” Barry grinned now, enjoying the familiar upper hand. He let Hank press a gentle hand to his cheek as a peace offering, but used that against him just as fast, sticking his hands into Hank’s exposed armpits. 

In class, Barry couldn’t say that finally memorized line without smiling. Mr. Cousineau liked the choice.