🚛😵👻👍

small-breasted psychopath, apparently.

[vilanele]

honestly at this point can someone recommend a good book about Iesbians where it just doesn't end in tragedy

[vilanele]

" I had to use my tits " " to kill him? " well now I'm afraid I *must* watch killing eve then👀

my TITS

[vilanele]

so my tag has been hijacked by people who can't spell vi//ane//e correctly

[vilanele]

why do i always return to this blog specifically (milfs)

[agentbreedlove]

[vilanele]

anyway like for a thing.

[deanwinchesters]

Jodie Comer as Villanelle in Killing Eve (2018-)

[vilanele]

@swallowpit / eve: do you have any interest in why you are asked to do what you do?

a postcard arrives — macchiaioli art stretched around reams of packed card, or giotto's lamentation fit with its own brush strokes and sun-wilted colour, and a delicate wishing you were here! slogan scrawled across the back, and a first class plane ticket appears not long after. a date, a time, a location, and the rest is up to her.

there are patterns in each kill — influential diplomats with deep pockets, lecherous consuls with wandering hands, UN members — she holds their faces when the light flickers out in their eyes with a satisfying rasp before they shit blood or it froths out in little trickles down the side of their mouths.

"do you?" they are two sides of the same coin. cat and mouse, from one end of europe to the other. (viIIaneIIe doesn't care much for the over-processed, plastic-sheened american trite that screams best place on earth wrapped in burger grease and the star-spangled banner. europe is more boutique. it suits her just fine.)

"i don't care. but i do care that they give me... really... really nice clothes at the end of it. they don't give you that, eve. it is very sad. my heart aches for you — i mean, is that polyester?"

[vilanele]

     killing eve sentence starters.           episode  1 – 2.

i fell asleep on both my arms.

what time did we leave last night?

it all ended when you and ___ sang ‘a whole new world’.

how are you so perky?

okay, from what i can eavesdrop on, a russian sex-trafficking politician’s been murdered in vienna.

you really earn your money, you know.

get me a croissant.

ugh, i’d nail a cousin to work with that woman.

turns out people are still murderous bastards on the weekend.

was there any cctv of the killer?

i imagine the girl is, erm, quite traumatised.

give me the rest of that croissant or i’ll fire you.

i’m feeling very fragile.

i can see you breathing.

were you scared?

did you think i was dead?

do you want to stay and watch a movie?

they want you to do another job.

i just want someone to play with.

that looks terrifying.

did we sing disney?

there’s a difference between thinking it was a woman and wanting it to be a woman.

i’m going to throw up. i suggest you do, too.

i just need to know if she’s aware of anyone who might want to harm her while she’s in the country.

your killer was a 'small-breasted psycho’, apparently.

i was counting on you not having a life.

uh, how big are her tits?

i know you’re into assassins, but i refuse to talk about them in this way. they’re people too, you know.

she appears to have massive, pendulous breasts.

how would you kill me if you could?

i’d paralyse you with saxitoxin and suffocate you in your sleep, chop you into the smallest bits i could manage, boil you down, put you in a blender and then take you to work in a flask and flush you down a restaurant toilet.

do you want to have sex?

you should have been a spy.

you’ve been weirdly casual all morning.

i’ll give you twenty quid to shut up.

so what if it is a woman anyway? i don’t care if it was an alien.

you could get in a lot of trouble if i was a serious man.

our job is weird but it’s also boring.

we should have brought her some chocolate or something.

oh my god! somebody help me!

if they fire you, you’d better drag me down with you.

i’ve been looking for an excuse to call ___ a dick-swab for years.

just don’t tell them everything - you’ll sound like a nutter.

well… that one could have gone better.

the most important thing, is that four people are dead, and it’s all your fault!

you’re a dick-swab.

just to be clear, you’re fired.

she’s highly skilled, as of yet, untraceable, and, frankly, she’s starting to show off.

buy some milk, or he’ll think you’re having an affair.

i can give you anything you want!

i’m not very good at 'how are you?’ etc, so i’m just going to dive in.

you seem to know a lot about female assassins.

i mean, if she’s not killing me, then, frankly, it’s not my job to care anymore.

she’s outsmarting the smartest of us and, for that, she deserves to do or kill whoever the hell she wants.

this is an unofficial official tap on the shoulder.

you’re intuitive and you make insane suggestions.

it’s like i’ve walked into the inside of my brain.

sorry about the smell, he lives on the internet.

letting yourself into my apartment and drinking from a tiny cup doesn’t make you intimidating, by the ay. it’s just rude.

so she slit her own throat and killed four other people? slip of the hand?

why are you being naughty?

this one has asthma. you know i like the breathy ones.

do you have any interest in why you are asked to do what you do?

i had quite a heavy period last week but other than that, i think i’m okay.

i shot him twice in the heart and watched the spark drain from his eyes.

if you ever want to talk anyone, or – i just wanted to make sure you were alright.

you have to prove the bastards wrong!

’m not denying your theory, but you have to be open to the possibility that what you have here is a series of random attacks that you are loosely hanging together with a pretty ribbon.

it’s best that you bring in your own toilet roll or it just disappears.

i thought you were just being a monkey dick about not being the boss.

i don’t know what a monkey dick is.

if it was someone with enemies, they would have owned up to it. or been exposed for at least one of these kills by now.

well, that was disturbingly easy.

tragically, he’s already at the pub.

i just wanted to apologise for calling you a dick-swab.

god, i’m a knob.

did you think i was asking you out-out? no! oh my god! no! i wasn’t asking you out. no.

what you both did today was massively insensitive.

i don’t have to tell you. you just have to trust me.

okay, we can fight. but you will get tired, and i will get bored, and you don’t like it when i’m bored.

if i kill you, they will just send me another one.

[artofdoubt]

Eve being impressed by Villanelle

[vilanele]

 —  𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭.

[vilanele]

@crowcut: we’re stuck, and they’re trying to kill us, so–

there is a hint of fear that hums through eve's voice which feels so incredibly alien to her — it's not a case that things tend to work out for her, because bruised knuckles and mottled, dark rings around her eyes tell another story, but she knows, in an instinctive, base way, how to kick back against the wall she's pinned against. they're close — perhaps too close, and perhaps eve will curl the lower part of her lip when they take little more than a moment to look back on this — but viIIaneIIe touches over the sharp arch of eve's cheek and nods.

it's an invitation, if she's ever heard one — a pressure point in each wound where it doesn't feel good any more and just hurts. (but just before that point, there's a sharp hiss of contentedness. the precipice where euphoria blends into the sluggish gnawing hurt — that's the edge she lives in.)

"i will keep you safe, eve." a promise, an i-do, a cheap thrill wrapped in chanel and coursing through her entire being as she unfolds herself from under the desk and reaches for the sharp edge of the letter opener.

the next few minutes are unspoken, quiet as she slips through the creaking, half-ajar door. two thuds, hard, like the shattered weight of a slumped body jams it shut, and she returns wearing a subtle spattering of blood and a heavy scowl.

"he got blood on my shirt. that was just rude." a hand is extended to her, touching over the back of her palm with a familiar ease. "come now, eve —"

[vilanele]

many thoughts...

[vilanele]

velvetipped​.

what she would like is for villanelle to loosen her grip on the knife that is still kissing at the fabric that resides over her abdomen  -  if dinner prevents that,  so be it.  “ sure, i’d like dinner.  i could definitely eat. “  that’s a lie.  she feels sick and the thought of eating isn’t all that pleasing right now,  but needs must.  “ what do you want?  italian?  i could go for italian … “ 

she isn’t sure whether or not that’s a rhetorical question,  mostly because she doesn’t know how to answer it herself.  she doesn’t think that she wants to see villanelle sad but she isn’t sure she wants to see her happy either.  it’s  -  confusing;  the way that she cares.  it all feels a little backwards,  a little unusual.  but she has to say the appropriate thing for the situation and so,  with a very brief shake of her head, she responds. “ of course i don’t want you to be sad. “  she isn’t sure villanelle can even feel that level of emotion but she won’t test it.  she’s seen mad villanelle,  bad villanelle   -  she isn’t sure if sad fits in with the mix. 

“ are we good now?  we’re friends again? “ the word ‘ friend ‘ doesn’t fit, she knows that.  she won’t ever know what her and villanelle are to each other.  she knows for certain that friends don’t fantasise about the other  -  that they don’t share sordid thoughts.  still,  she won’t vocalise that in avoidance of fuelling villanelle’s fire even more.  “ can you drop the knife now? “ 

they’ve had dinner before — a microwaved, orange-stained tupperware of her husband’s shepherd’s pie that’s sat in the fridge for a couple days before being stabbed at with a twisted fork. and that ended the exact same way. there’s an  avoidance  in eve that she’s been trying to pick away at. there’s something that means their eyes follow from across the room, and a thread that leads them to the same place. same objective. the same  side. (that  one  is  new. there’s no need for cat and mouse when theres a billionaire-psychopath that sits between the two of them with nothing more than an  opportunity.)

“don’t be like that, eve.”  friends?  friends never quite work out for her. mostly, they end up with a bullet in their skulls, and villanelle off to the next mark.  normal  rots in her. nice boys with clean hair or wide-eyed girls with office jobs and housemates... it gets old quick. it’s not like that with eve.

          “— wowwww, eve. so  demanding.  does niko know you have problems with your manners?”   maybe it says something that she gets under eve’s skin so easily, or maybe the  subtext  sits in the way she slowly eases the pressure on the blade at her stomach. 

           “but one more thing. try that again, and i will kill you.”

[ohisms]

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 .    (  a  collection  of  100  nonverbal  action  prompts .   mature  and  potentially  triggering  themes  are  present .   add  “ + reverse ”  to  swap  assigned  roles .)

∗ o1﹕ sender  tucks  hair  out  of  receiver’s  face . ∗ o2﹕ sender  offers  receiver  a  bite  from  their  fork . ∗ o3﹕ sender  places  their  feet / legs  in  receiver's  lap . ∗ o4﹕ sender  offers  receiver  an  earbud  to  share  their  music . ∗ o5﹕ sender  comforts  receiver  in  the  aftermath  of  a  nightmare . ∗ o6﹕ sender  gives  receiver  company  in  the  hospital . ∗ o7﹕ sender  wraps  their  arms  around  a  hysterical  receiver  to  calm  them . ∗ o8﹕ sender  shows  up  at  receiver’s  home  late  at  night . ∗ o9﹕ sender  falls  asleep  leaning  against  receiver . ∗ 1o﹕ sender  wields  a  [ gun / knife ]  at  receiver . ∗ 11﹕ sender  runs  their  fingers  through  receiver’s  hair . ∗ 12﹕ sender  invites  receiver  to  dance . ∗ 13﹕ sender  takes  a  [ picture / video ]  of  receiver . ∗ 14﹕ sender  places  their  head  in  receiver’s  lap . ∗ 15﹕ sender  and  receiver  make  eye  contact  across  a  busy  room . ∗ 16﹕ sender  pushes  receiver  against  a  wall  to  kiss  them . ∗ 17﹕ sender  and  receiver  cook  together . ∗ 18﹕ sender  comes  to  receiver  after  being  injured . ∗ 19﹕ sender  sits  in  receiver’s  lap . ∗ 2o﹕ sender  lifts  receiver's  chin ,  invoking  eye  contact . ∗ 21﹕ sender  overtakes  receiver  in  combat . ∗ 22﹕ sender  finds  receiver  [ injured / bloodied ] . ∗ 23﹕ sender  straightens  an  article  of  receiver’s  clothes . ∗ 24﹕ sender  crawls  into  bed  with  receiver . ∗ 25﹕ sender  rolls  their  eyes  at  receiver . ∗ 26﹕ sender  lights  receiver’s  [ cigarette / joint ] . ∗ 27﹕ sender  is  caught  wearing  receiver's  clothes . ∗ 28﹕ sender  strikes  receiver  with  a  pillow . ∗ 29﹕ sender  writes  a  note  on  receiver’s  skin :  [ note ] . ∗ 3o﹕ sender  wraps  a  blanket  around  receiver’s  shoulders . ∗ 31﹕ sender  runs  and  jumps  into  receiver’s  arms . ∗ 32﹕ sender  shoves  receiver  out  of  anger . ∗ 33﹕ sender  hovers  over  receiver’s  shoulder  as  they  complete  a  task . ∗ 34﹕ sender  is  found  by  receiver  somewhere  they  shouldn’t  be . ∗ 35﹕ sender  curls  up  against  receiver  in  their  sleep . ∗ 36﹕ sender  is  found  drunk  by  receiver . ∗ 37﹕ sender  throws  an  item  of  sentiment  bitterly  at  receiver . ∗ 38﹕ sender  joins  receiver  in  the  shower . ∗ 39﹕ sender  is  caught  following  receiver . ∗ 4o﹕ sender  traces  one  of  receiver’s  [ scars / bruises ] . ∗ 41﹕ sender  twines  their  fingers  with  receiver’s . ∗ 42﹕ sender  barges  into  receiver’s  home  unannounced . ∗ 43﹕ sender  kicks  receiver’s  shin  beneath  a  table . ∗ 44﹕ sender  aggressively  shoves  past  receiver . ∗ 45﹕ sender  kisses  receiver’s  [ forehead / cheek ] . ∗ 46﹕ sender  pulls  receiver  out  of  harm’s  way . ∗ 47﹕ sender  is  found  sobbing  by  receiver . ∗ 48﹕ sender  locks  receiver  out  of  their  room . ∗ 49﹕ sender  brings  receiver  [ coffee / tea ]  in  the  morning . ∗ 5o﹕ sender  rests  their  forehead  against  receiver’s . ∗ 51﹕ sender  plays  a  song  for  receiver  that  reminds  them  of  them :  [ song ] . ∗ 52﹕ sender  takes  a  [ punch / stab / bullet ]  meant  for  receiver . ∗ 53﹕ sender  buys  receiver  a  drink  at  a  bar . ∗ 54﹕ sender  needs  receiver’s  help  getting  in  the  bath . ∗ 55﹕ sender  and  receiver  cross  paths  in  the  kitchen  late  at  night . ∗ 56﹕ sender  twists  receiver’s  arm  behind  their  back . ∗ 57﹕ sender  winks  at  receiver . ∗ 58﹕ sender  is  found  collapsed  by  receiver . ∗ 59﹕ sender  prevents  an  injured  receiver  from  getting  up . ∗ 6o﹕ sender  claps  a  hand  over  receiver’s  mouth  to  silence  them . ∗ 61﹕ sender  cages  receiver  against  a  [ wall / the floor ]  with  their  arms . ∗ 62﹕ sender  storms  away  from  receiver  during  an  argument . ∗ 63﹕ sender  is  found  by  receiver  sleeping  in  receiver’s  bed . ∗ 64﹕ sender  [ applies / touches up ]  receiver’s  makeup . ∗ 65﹕ sender  throws  receiver  into  a  wall  during  combat . ∗ 66﹕ sender  dances  sensually  with  receiver . ∗ 67﹕ sender  strikes  receiver  across  the  face . ∗ 68﹕ sender  places  their  hand  on  receiver’s  leg  while  driving . ∗ 69﹕ sender  pulls  a  chair  out  from  under  receiver . ∗ 7o﹕ sender  catches  receiver’s  wrist  when  they  turn  to  leave . ∗ 71﹕ sender  leaves  an  intimate  mark  on  receiver . ∗ 72﹕ sender  beats  receiver  in  a  video  game . ∗ 73﹕ sender  and  receiver  stand  in  stunned  silence  after  a  fight . ∗ 74﹕ sender  cares  for  receiver  while  they’re  sick . ∗ 75﹕ sender  and  receiver  go  on  a  hike . ∗ 76﹕ sender  is  caught  snooping  in  receiver’s  things . ∗ 77﹕ sender  and  receiver  cuddle  while  watching  television . ∗ 78﹕ sender  throws  something  aggressively  at  receiver . ∗ 79﹕ sender  creeps  up  behind  receiver  to  scare  them . ∗ 8o﹕ sender  and  receiver  go  shopping  together . ∗ 81﹕ sender  helps  receiver  [ dye / style ]  their  hair . ∗ 82﹕ sender  draws  receiver  into  a  kiss  by  the  back  of  their  neck . ∗ 83﹕ sender  is  discovered  having  a  panic  attack  by  receiver . ∗ 84﹕ sender  accidentally  injures  receiver  during  sparring . ∗ 85﹕ sender  grabs  receiver  roughly  by  the  hair . ∗ 86﹕ sender  brings  receiver  to  their  knees  during  combat . ∗ 87﹕ sender  shows  receiver  evidence  of  a  lie  they  told . ∗ 88﹕ sender  winks  [ seductively / mockingly ]  at  receiver . ∗ 89﹕ sender  yells  at  receiver  to  put  their  hands  in  the  air . ∗ 9o﹕ sender  helps  receiver  patch  up  a  wound . ∗ 91﹕ sender  holds  receiver  as  they  cry . ∗ 92﹕ sender  silently  and  angrily  points  receiver  towards  the  door . ∗ 93﹕ sender  gestures  for  receiver  to  sit  down . ∗ 94﹕ sender  pulls  receiver  into  their  lap . ∗ 95﹕ sender  cradles  receiver’s  face . ∗ 96﹕ sender  tackles  receiver  out  of  the  way  of  danger . ∗ 97﹕ sender  has  hidden  an  injury  from  receiver ,  and  receiver  finds  out . ∗ 98﹕ sender  confronts  receiver  about  their  unhealthy  behavior . ∗ 99﹕ sender  proposes  to  receiver . ∗ 1oo﹕ sender  has  just  died ,  receiver  finds  out .

[vilanele]

 —  𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭.

[vilanele]

velvetipped​.

                    so apologising wasn’t the right thing to do?  jesus christ.  she’s quick to stiffen when villanelle is standing with the merest gap between the two of them,  blade pressed against her abdomen.  she supposes this is fair game,  an eye-for-an-eye,  one might say.  but still,  it doesn’t stop the expression of utter shock from pulling at every feature on her face.  “i can tell you a lot more things that are more romantic than her-and-her stab wounds … “  she knows that villanelle will catch the wobble in her voice,  the waviness of her tone.  she knows the assassin well enough to know that she misses  nothing.  she’s a predator with ridiculously adapt senses.   “roses,  for one.  and long walks on the beach. “  not a knife to the gut.  anything but a knife to the gut.  

“ i wouldn’t find it very romantic if you stabbed me, villanelle. “  would that stop her?  a disapproval?  “ in fact, i’d find it the opposite. i’d find it unattractive. “  she’s trying her hardest to loosen the stiff stance but she’s worried that one wrong move of her body and the blade will meet with her insides.  “ i’d rather you took me to dinner. “  she’s lowering a hand  -  the action slow,  calculated.  fingers wrap around villanelle’s wrist and she holds it there,  fingers clenched as she tries to keep the knife from piercing her skin.  

“ if it makes you feel better, i rescind my apology.  fuck the apology.  i’m not sorry for stabbing you.  you deserved it. “  the shake in her voice is still present but she’s trying her best to hide it.  is this was villanelle wants?  no remorse.  “ you were a real ass. “ 

                    long walks on the beach, kissing in the rain — she’s stared into the soulless core of as many romcoms as she can remember growing up, and has turned off just as many without even trying it. (there were english ones, french ones, german ones that anna dusted off out of a vhs player before she could call her older than the sun itself. she said it was the best way to learn, even if the better way was between her legs after a fight with her husband.)

         “you would like that? dinner?”

there she is. there’s something that lights behind villanelle’s eyes as eve curses, and she tightens her grip on her waist as eve quivers out under the stress of the blade. her skin is warm under its polyester-prison (i mean, really — would all mi5 agents go up in flames if you lit a match?) and eve is so close she can practically devour her.

                     “you should be. it made me very sad.”   it’s a quip that slowly coaxes a smile out from the corner of her lip. painful, maybe — she still remembers the sting of vodka as she launched herself in front of a car to end up in urgent care, but as far as she cares with eve, it was passion. it was a reaction. eve is more like her than she wants to admit, and villanelle wants to thread her fingers through that and hold it flush against her.

         “you don’t want me to be sad, do you?”