Constant-eggs

Sometimes I feel like I’m Tinker Bell, like I’m not even real without the approval of others.

Here is the full version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38447920

Shut up they love each other:

It isn’t painful, the icy blue tide dragging her down and it should be. The Thames bubbles and rushes down her throat, her ribs heave and spasm in their search for oxygen. She’s drowning, bleeding too if the crimson shadow trail is anything to go by. But in the absence of physical feeling, comes this clarity: she is free, and there is a hand reaching out for her. The two very things she’s always wanted since the day she was plucked from that orphanage are here and so maybe, maybe this is peace. Villanelle closes her eyes from the sting of the water, the wounds, and the piercing eyes of Eve’s that are so desperate.

At that last sight, Villanelle’s snap back open, locking onto the woman still groping for her, terrified, on the brink, and Villanelle dismisses any world where she could be at peace when Eve is in trouble as bullshit. It’s always been Eve, and Villanelle’s still breathing so she has to try to stay. But she. Can’t. Move. Another bullet slices through flesh and bone – internal organs become external and that’s…that has to be enough. Her eyes slip shut, and with them one last glimpse at Eve still so determined, Villanelle slips down and –

—

It is with the realization that Eve has truly lost everything that she screams, it’s deep, agonizing, and feral, and goes on and on. It has no purpose — she isn’t intending for anything anymore…is barely treading water purely out of habit. Wouldn’t duck if a spatter of bullet fire rained down. Perhaps that makes her ungrateful, refusing to make an effort. Refusing to try and survive after such a huge sacrifice. But Villanelle never apoligized for anything, and existing is a stupid, cumbersome burden so Eve refuses to apologize to her for this. Especially since…what would be the point of that now? So she screams, letting the world know exactly where she is, below a huge damned boat hosting an oblivious wedding party and the two grooms above, likely dancing under soft fairy strung lighting and holding each other and…diving into the very river that’s vast enough that she could’ve been left in peace.

One of the grooms, the ugly one, scoops Eve up under the armpits and all she can think to say to their urgent questions is “She’s gone.” Words so simple and small, so starkly different from her thunderous cry from moments earlier, that the wind could’ve carried them off before they reached another person. But the handsome man, face soaked, must hear her because he shakes his head resolutely, squares his shoulders, and dives under.

I had this idea where the married couple helps out. Let me know if it’s worth continuing? If so, I’ll finish it.

adult life is crazy because you can be going through the most devastating and heartbreaking things while still having to go to work and do the laundry and grocery shopping

Ms.-I’m-so-socially-awkward-I-don’t-have-to -take-accountability-for-anything-Juliette Fairmont

I’ve been writing a bunch lately, especially after that Killing Eve ending. I’m looking for someone who would be interested in reading and giving honest, critical feedback? Either a beta or a one-off. Currently KE is on the brain but I also write Wildmoore and Supercorp.