I've shared more of this before than I'd thought, so it's only a short snippet from this one! The fic is a self-indulgent love letter to Italy, and follows James and Q as they drive around on holiday there. Imagine this snippet happening on a private balcony overlooking the Mediterranean.
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“It’s never been like this for me,” huffs Q, tugging off Bond's jacket. His voice is teetering on the edge of frustration. “I want you all the time. How is that possible? We’re already fucking twice a day.”
Bond smiles. “It’s the suit, darling.”
“I want to shred the suit." Between frenzied kisses, Q moves onto battling with Bond’s suspenders. “It’s thirty degrees. There’s absolutely no need for this.”
Loved and Shared @00a_architecture . Penthouse in Barcelona by PMAA Architects #00A #architecture #interior #design #penthousedesign #whiteinterior #greeninterior #archilovers https://www.instagram.com/p/BtU-Fulh9TN/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=150236eke9wj7
“ Enjolras is capable of being h o r r i b l e , if he wishes. ”
Eponine watched as Enjolras shuffled in to his apartment and waited to make sure he was safely in. Once she was sure that he was, she set off once more on the Parisian streets, the path to Grantaire's loft a familiar once.
Eponine knew not why Grantaire was so calm about her random appearances. It began a little over a year ago, when Monsieur Thénardier had brandished a knife at Gavroche and her; the two siblings fled out in to the night, bumping in to Grantaire who, despite his drunken stupor, ushered the two in to his home and let them sleep on the couch.
Grantaire's apartment became Eponine and Gavroche's safe house. Eponine had tried bugging the man on why he always let them in; wouldn't bringing a lady in to his house ruin his reputation to society?; but Grantaire would merely shrug and offer her some wine.
When Eponine knocked softly on Grantaire's door, the standard slurred "Come in" from the other side did not come. Instead, the door swung wide open, and Grantaire— for the first time in as long as Eponine could remember— was sober.
"I was expecting you." Grantaire sing-songed, pulling Eponine in to the flat. "Jesus, what is it with everybody and pulling today?" she grumbled. Grantaire's teasing response caught Eponine by surprise: "Ah, so pulling occurred between you and Enj? How early in to your relationship for that to happen!"
"Excuse me?" Eponine sputtered, reeling around to face Grantaire. He gave her a toothy grin before taking the few steps across the room to his couch. The old piece of furniture creaked under Grantaire's weight. "Don't act all innocent, missy," he shot back, pointing a lazy finger at Eponine. Alright, perhaps he wasn't sober; but he was significantly less drunk than usual. "Marius told us about it!"
"Marius?" Eponine exclaimed, practically scrambling to be at Grantaire's feet. "What did Marius say?"
And so it went. While a handful of the Les Amis- namely Grantaire, Courfeyarc and Joly- had been sharing drinks at the local bar, Marius had walked in looking as if he were in deep thought. The Pontmercy then recounted the interaction between Eponine, Enjolras and him at the Musain to the trio, and asked them if it was anything significant; the three had laughed, proceeding to place bets and demanded that the bartended keep the whiskey coming. "If I'm going to think Enjolras in love with anything other than his Patria," Courfeyarc had supposedly said while taking another swig. "I will need to be drunk beyond belief!"
"Enjolras is not in love with me." Eponine interjected. She barely knew Enjolras. Save for that eventful night, and their brief conversation on the staircase, Enjolras was a mystery to her, just as much as she was to him. "And neither are you in love with him, I suppose?" Grantaire questioned, the slightest indication of being upset lingering in his words. A frustrated Eponine practically laid herself on the wooden floorboards in exasperation.
"I'm in love with Marius!" she half-yelled. Her companion shushed her, so she lowered her tone just the slightest. "I'm in love with a daft, oblivious boy who adores someone else!" Eponine hissed, and even though she was not looking at him, she could hear the taunt in Grantaire's voice when he said his next words.
"There's nothing wrong with Enjolras." (Taunting.)
"I didn't say there was!" (Defensive.)
"Well? Is it because of something that happened tonight?" (Demanding.)
"I..." (Hesitant.)
Deciding he had a right to know, Eponine gave Grantaire her account: the streets, her father, the fight, the gun. Throughout her story-telling, Grantaire stared at her with rapt attention, silent for a few minutes after she finished. "Enjolras is capable of being horrible, if he wishes." he finally said, echoing what the Les Amis often whispered behind their leader's back. Eponine did nothing but nod. Grantaire let out a groan, slumping in a heap on to his couch and staring absently at the ceiling.
"Take my bed for tonight." Grantaire commanded quietly. When Eponine began to deny his offer, Grantaire glared her in to silence. "You've had a longer night than I could imagine. By God. I wish I had taken more of that wine Joly was offering." he said, giving Eponine a smile that she imagined would come from an older brother, if she had one.
She nodded and stood, taking silent steps towards Grantaire's bedroom. When he called her name, she dared herself to not look back.
"You know," Grantaire's sleepy voice drawled from behind her. "Enjolras? He has never loved a girl in his life. If he were, we would not mind if you were the first."
Eponine waited for more, but all that came next was Grantaire's soft snores. The Thenardier girl decided that was tired. She was not in the mood to deal with Grantaire's cryptic advice. She retreated in to Grantaire's room and buried herself in his covers that smelled of booze and whiskey, and fell asleep in to dreams of Marius and dark alleyways,
Dominique Somers es una artista belga (1979, Amberes ). Vive y trabaja en Gante.
00A es una colección de imágenes encontradas en la Web.Son las primeras fotografías que se sacan al empezar el rollo en los carretes analógicos, hasta empezar la 1A. Unas pruebas desechadas, un embrión de fotografía.
Dominique Somers recopila y da una nueva vida a lo que, según el autor de las mismas, no merecía ver la luz. A veces los accidentes producen tesoros. 00A es un trabajo conceptual sobre la identidad de la fotografía.
Hoy domingo 24 de enero, soleado en la Bahia del Bidasoa, 00A.
Buen domingo a todos !
http://www.dominiquesomers.com/00a-1/
http://www.artpapereditions.org
24 de enero 2016. Domingo.00A. Dominique Somers. 00A. Dominique Somers. APE . Tapa blanda.21x15 cm. 318 paginas. Blanco y negro. Diseño grafico, Jurgen Maelfeyt.
