#season 3 eve

[jomiddlemarch]

I drew a line for you

Claire was tired.

She understood tired. Post-call, post-post-call, post-code, post-post-code, post-carbs, post-pretending-ramen-counted-as-a-meal, post-running-on-fumes, post-forgetting-how-to-spell-fumes, post-post-post, the days kept coming, yeah, but the nights did too and she knew about the nights and the way the trauma bay looked like there was a filter on it and when coffee stopped working and you had to try handfuls of sour gummy worms crammed in your mouth and tucked against your cheek like Nicorette.

Everyone was supposed to be asleep then, those little, cracked hours after midnight that were only meant for a nursing mother, like her cousin Julie who was only eight months older than Claire but already had a pair of Irish twins, or for new lovers who’d woken after dozing lightly, pressed too close, ready to fuck again.

She was tired imagining what it would take to get there with Carm, not to the new baby and an anxious father cursing as he screwed up the fresh diaper, not even to the second, hell, third round of fucking, when she’d be too sleepy to think he might mind if she was greedy, if she grabbed his ass to bring him closer while he rutted against her, panting softly against her cheek and then into the crook of her neck, the scent of the sex mixed with their breath, with their sweat that didn’t have even a hint of the deodorant they’d each put on so long ago it was like another decade, not just the day before. She was tired imagining getting to dozing off in his arms, the TV still on, the movie over and something else playing, a show she never recognized except that she knew someone had died and badly, Carmy lying behind her, sure to wake up with a crick in his neck or some muscle knotted up between his shoulder blades, one she didn’t have to name, because she wasn’t being Dr. Dunlap and she didn’t have to fish a bullet from what had become a side of meat awkwardly butchered.

She wasn’t even sure she loved Carmy, though it would be nice if she did, since she was in this deep and his eyes were that blue and when he could get out of his own fucking way, he could be funny and bright and say something worth thinking about tomorrow and also next week and when she woke up and she hadn’t gotten paged once after 2 am. It would be nice if she loved him, because honestly, she liked to eat but she wasn’t one of those people to lived to eat. Who cared about the provenance of their goddamn huckleberries or could just be transported by single origin chocolate or mole or some elaborately simple salmon mousse. She’d gone through this phase in eighth grade when she’d read her Aunt Cheryl’s collection of Agatha Christie novels instead of going to sleepaway camp up at the lake and she’d always thought there was something appealingly gross about how there would be bloater paste sandwiches and people ate them, washed down with a Thermos of tea, and then puttered around or killed someone else with cyanide or rat poison. She wasn’t going to be able to tell Carmy about bloater paste sandwiches or the sour gummy worms without him getting inspired and then getting all spun up and it would be nice, occasionally, even if she loved him, if he asked one fucking question about her work, her day, and didn’t make it clear she was just supposed to tell him she’d saved someone’s life or it was work, whatever Carmy, tell me about knives or kumquats or Copenhagen in early April. She’d be willing to take him literally asking a fucking question, him murmuring something like did they take that Filipino guy to the ICU when you told them to? while he held her hands above her head and her thighs were hitched over his, his dick hitting the right spot so that she almost laughed, almost cried when she muttered, they bitched about his sats but yeah, and he said, you’re so good, babyand she didn’t have to decide if he meant she still had the tight Kegeled pussy of a nullipara or she was a good doctor for getting the jagweed intensivist fellow Ethan to accept the admit or that she was a sweet, beautiful girl he’d had a thing for since he was fifteen. 

She wouldn’t have to decide. He’d mean it all, or mostly all, the sweet-beautiful-girl part entirely, and she wouldn’t be quite so tired. She’d put on pajama bottoms over her panties when she went into the kitchen in the morning when he’d already be cooking something with eggs that looked complicated and she’d have it in her to make a cup of tea in the microwave instead of drinking the coffee from what was left in the French press, because of course he only had a French press.

She wouldn’t be too tired to say, I need to run errands, boring ones, you don’t have to come, and nod when he said, maybe he could come with her to the pharmacy, because he needed more condoms and this conditioner Nat said he should get and shaving cream. She wouldn’t be too tired to say, fine, but she was on again at 3, so he couldn’t dawdle. She wouldn’t be too tired to say Next time I want waffles, the shitty frozen ones but with real maple syrup without worrying a little first.

Next time, there would be store-brand Eggo knock-offs and a little flask of maple syrup shaped like a leaf and a bowl of freshly whipped cream, because he was a chef but he’d listened, mostly, and when she cried in the tub because she hadn’t saved that 4 month old baby and she couldn’t remember the teenager she’d stitched up after Angela who wore Snoopy scrubs told her to call it, Claire, Carmy would come in and instead of washing her hair or setting a plate of something exquisite and bittersweet on the edge, would just pick up the washcloth from the cloudy, cooling  depths of the bathwater and stroke it haphazardly over her back and her neck and her shoulder, no rhythm, no plan or message, just Carmy trying to care in the way she wanted him to, humming Coldplay’s Yellow, leaning over to add more hot water without asking.

For @tessa-quayle on Season-3-The-Bear eve because you said you wanted me to take on Claire and make her a real person instead of what canon gave us.

[snw-faatuatua]

tē คr໐hค ᰔᩚ

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Wanted to post something for TBB Eve, Hunter and Omega having a hongi moment would be SO PERFECT, in fact, everyone needs a hongi!!

Hope to get my farewell piece done by tomorrow we’ll see 🤞🏽

[and-his-hands-were-24-crows]

You Don't Call. You Don't Write.

I've lost track of my numbering system. Seven-ish, probably.

Tag list under the cut.

...It's just @ineffabildaddy

[melymigo]

Happy Bad Batch Eve from the Kiners!

They're the main reason I am around X/Twitter. Sean and Deana are truly the best experiences I've ever had in the fandom. The love they have for the series is genuine, and I am really thankful for everything they've done for it. 

Kudos to Kevin for everything he has done since The Clone Wars and for bringing his talented family into the Star Wars universe.

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

❤️ for @rjshope (cr. dwellingsouls)

[acupofqueercoffee]

She did not always care for me, but…for what she gave me in the end, I’m grateful.

[marvelsgirl616]

I’m so excited !!!

[thememerman]

just a little Cowboy Hunter to get you through this fine Bad Batch Eve 🗣️

and a little something extra bc I was in a silly goofy mood 🤪

[techwrecker]

Un-Happy Bad Batch Eve!

[admireforever]

Tori & Michael

[mroddmod]

[confined]

[anniegamgee]

Hello Killing Eve nation take my post season 3 theory (i have not seen season 4 yet) that Kenny killed himself cause he discovered his mother works for the Twelve (i know she does. Have you seen her)

[currymanganese]

Legacy. You think about it?

And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof; And the rib, which the Lord God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man. And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man. Genesis 2:21-23~

"Wait, so what was the best one?"

"Best what? "

"Best meal you ever had."

"Yeah, it was, it was Carmy's."

"I knew it. I knew it, yeah."

"Sydney: Hmm. He is really, really... really good."

"High praise."

"Yeah, but he's still a little bitch."

Inspired by my add-on to @espumado's thread here on the supernatural and mythological references in The Bear. @thoughtfulchaos773 @glitterslag @moodyeucalyptus @vacationship @ambeauty @lecham1644 @tinfishlove @whenmemorydies @brokenwinebox @glitterslag @tvfantic87 @augustmonsooning @devisrina @imliterallyjustablackgirl @angelica4equity @outmakingmoonshine @blackjack-15

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

The Librarians S03E05 and the Tears of a Clown.

[eve-baird]

some of my favourite tidbits from the librarians commentary (season 1) :

in the fables of doom eve was supposed to have bluebirds flying around her

john harlan kim ended up with the nickname rooftop for a while during filming

flynn doesn't really wear bowties after the first ep bc a lot of ppl drew comparisons between him and the doctor

charlene was supposed to have a fight scene in the first episide but it ended being cut due to restraints. it also wouldve been revealed she was a guardian then.

morgana le fey was into eve hitting her and had alicia been available in s2 mightve been the one eve was under the spell with (BI EVE CRUMBS WOO)

the way they talk abt ezekiel during the s1 commentary (at the time of filming the commentary theyd also filmed s2) definitely makes me think his s4 backstory was not planned at this point. id already kind of assumed theyd just added it in but the commentaries all but comfirm it tbh.

My personal fav thing they drop in the commentary is that cassandra killed her parents (which whilst im pretty sure its a joke. its my new personal headcanon)

[painandfalafels]

Yet another bad batch eve …. Manifesting the CX-2 unboxing 🙏

🕯️🕯️🕯️please be tech🕯️please be tech🕯️please be tech 🕯️please be tech🕯️please be tech🕯️please be tech🕯️🕯️🕯️