yourkindquartermaster-blog

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

Secret Service Starters

"Please tell me that umbrella isn't just an umbrella."

"I need help here NOW!"

"Lives will be lost."

"We can't do this."

"You can't just shoot your way out of this."

"So... follow this dirt bag and see where he leads us?"

"Welcome home. Is there anything you need? Drink? Dinner? Hand grenade?"

"I'm wearing a bullet resistant suit."

"You wouldn't happen to have a signal scrambler would you?"

"So sorry I to have to kill you."

"What is that?"

"Never tell me the odds."

"For king/queen and country!"

"Don't worry about anyone listening in."

"Do you think you can lower my guard just by pouting and keeping your shirt half buttoned?"

"Dear God, what happened to you?"

"Bullet in the head, that's all it will take."

"Your glasses have a video recorder."

"Data says that the chances of failure is around 87 percent."

"Do you really think you can solve everything by playing poker?"

"The consulate isn't going to help us this time."

"Please tell me you have explosives somewhere on you."

"What the hell did you just do?"

"Boss says if you go, you better not come back."

"So... fake marriage?"

"Nice hotel. Shame it's a front for international smugglers."

"Did you really think that was going to work?"

"Not everyone is a parkour master."

"I'm a tech, not a sniper!"

"Since when do you know how to pick pockets?"

"Surprising what you'll learn on the streets of ______."

"The hell are you doing?"

"What part of go in, see if the target is in there and get back out, do you not understand?"

"Where did you get that?"

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Highly selective, 18+ only

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

“Everyone makes trouble, I fix trouble. What do you want me to do? Dress up like, what? One of the ghostbusters? And slime the entirety of Q-branch?” he tapped aimlessly at the keys of his laptop, not really doing anything at all.

A little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The idea of sliming Q-branch was kind of funny.

'Especially not on Halloween.‘

@yourkindquartermaster

“What about Halloween? It’s the perfect time of the year to go make trouble. Ev'ryone else is doin’ it. C'mon, live a little, Q. What’s the worst that could happen?” Besides a lot of things Tequila was not planning on listing off, just in case that would dissuade the man from tagging along.

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

“That doesn’t look good.”

@suitedbrute

“That’s what you decide to say?” he mumbled, his hand firmly pressed against his waist, where the thick blood trickled down his fingers. The bullet had lodged itself between his ribs, and for a very short, single moment, he wondered why on earth he had thought it was worth it. Worth it to safe Bond again, jump in again, and possible die.

Not again, but, well, still.

“Just make sure you get the harddrive, Bond,” he snapped, fighting against the relative dizziness that tried to settle behind his eyeslids, made them slip down, and his breathing gone laboured. “Better tell M I was here on a visit to Grandma again.”

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

Post-Fight Sentence Starters

Requested by Anonymous

“Are you okay?” 

“Do you have any bandages?”

“That doesn’t look good.” 

“Did you pick a fight with a bear?!”

“I’m /fine/!” 

“You don’t look ‘fine’ to me!” 

“That was a nasty scuffle…” 

“Let me see your ___.” 

“Can you help me?”

“You’re bleeding!” 

“I think I got some glass in my hands.” 

“Who did you pick a fight with this time?” 

“Did you win?”

“Looks like you were on the losing end of a dog fight.” 

“You should see the other guy.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” 

“Things… got out of hand…” 

“What the hell happened?!” 

“Please tell me you’re still breathing.”

“I’m going to give them a piece of my mind for what they did to you!” 

“I can’t promise nothing is broken.” 

“It’s not what it looks like.” 

“Would you believe that I fell down some stairs?” 

Should I be worrying about seeing you in the news for a homicide?” 

“That’s… a lot of blood.” 

“All this blood isn’t mine, I swear.” 

“What did you do this time?” 

Send 🔪+ a sentence of your own!

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

@suitedbrute​

"I am aware.” Bond agreed with the slightest tilt of his head, not quite a nod, but certainly an acknowledgement of the fact that he was quite obviously driving Q up a wall with his vagueness. Noting the tapping from the corner of his eyes, Bond thought briefly to disrupt the attempted calm but found himself suddenly more intrigued by Q’s words.

“There is a good chance he knew the moment you spoke your excuse.” Mallory was painfully more observant and intuitive than any bureaucrat had a right to be, and whilst Bond could admire as much about him, it also drove the Double-O mad too. His tired tactics needed an update with the new M, much to his displeasure and amusement. Without flicking his gaze toward the quartermaster, Bond slowly shook his head at the off-handed comment about his grandmother possibly liking M. The agent wasn’t certain anybody could genuinely dislike the churlish man, but perhaps that was projecting some because he happened to… Appreciate M. To a certain, small degree. “Cats are self sufficient creatures, I am certain yours will be well.” Bond snorted softly. He did not particularly care for pets of the feline persuasion–perhaps because they were too similar to him in personality.

“I’ll have you know that cats still need someone to feed them,” he didn’t quite snarl it, but his relationship with his cats was a strange one. They’d been with him for over five years, now, and certain nights there was nothing he appreciated more than Einstein curling up against his side, even if his allergies made him sniffle at it.

“If I get fired on your behalf, I expect you to pay for my lodgings until I get a new job, which I won’t, because it is bloody difficult to get a job if the system of a country is under the impression you are dead. Hell, I am flying on a fake passport right now. Right now.

Everything, however, was better than worrying about what would kill him first in case of a plane crash - the landing or the fact they would plunge straight into the sea.

“Was it a woman?” he asked. “The reason you went.”

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

I’m not supposed to still have a thing for you but I don’t know how to let you go. I’m trying to come to terms with what may never be, but every time I picture the moment you’ll come to me and tell me you’ve moved on my heart breaks. I love you, he doesn’t. Him and I are in love and bound together. If he doesn’t want you as our third then I can’t have you either. I’m still hoping. I still want it to work out, we almost had a relationship, and I don’t know how to let go of what could’ve been. It’s not fair for me to have a forever love and in the same breath tell you that you have to wait to find yours. I love you. I won’t stop until you shatter my heart by loving another. I don’t know how to otherwise.

aislynd, writing prompt #67: write about an almost relationship, which broke your heart (via wnq-writers)

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

FC: Toni Mahfud

Eric Saterra, a former war-photographer now involved in espionage himself. His cover as an urban artist gives him opportunity to have his camera at the ready anywhere - at any time. He is a well-known and well-received guest at parties, both those over- and underground, which gives him the advantage of owning a great deal of pictures that are, in one way or another, compromising. If Q can’t find dirt on someone online, then Eric might find an even more efficient secret to hold over their heads. They have been friends ever since Q’s time of dabbling in London’s twilight zone, and most likely always will be, even if the only times they talk is when they need something of one another.

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

Send me a faceclaim and I’ll tell you who they’d be in my muse’s life as a NPC

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

a message to my followers

To everyone I have ever promised a starter and never delivered, I am sorry. To everyone I have ever let a message sit in my inbox without ever answering it, regardless of how much I intend to answer it–I am sorry. To everyone who has ever written me a starter that I liked and never answered, I am sorry. To all the dropped drafts and unfinished plots, I mourn you but cannot find the will to revive you.  I am sorry. To all of the memes I’ve reblogged and simply didn’t post, I am sorry. To all of the people that I may have made feel ignored or disappointed, I am sorry. I am only human.

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

ben whishaw in london spy

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

LONDON SPY - S1E1 - I 

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

Daniel Craig Photo © Rankin

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

SORRY! I fixed up my theme, never noticed it broke. That shows you how often I visit and frequent my own blog rather than my dash, hah. I hope this makes it a tad more readable for everyone.

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

Rebagel if you’re open to Skype/Discord RP with folks you trust.

vin-robles:

Because some days, the blog format just ain’t doin’ it.

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

"You are the dictionary description of the word insufferable, do you know that?" he tapped his fingers to his knee in a steady, nervous and binary rhythm. Calm calm calm calm...

It didn't help.

"And M will, undoubtedly, have figures out that grandma Beaudelaire has long kicked the bucket," he pondered, more to himself than anyone else, even Bond. He did not often leave his own surname out in the open. "Hah, she would have liked M, gran."

Not because she had been a kind woman. Rather the opposite. She had been very strict. He supposed she would have appreciated the straight cut of M's suit. She wouldn't have liked Bond, but then maybe, that was why Q did.

Didn't. Fuck. Mental slip up.

"...and my cats will be starving."

yourkindquartermaster:

He tried not to follow Bond’s sweeping gesture to whatever laid beneath them, because to Q, whatever was under the airplane felt like the abyss of death and decay, even if it was just London, and they were approaching their destination rapidly.

“Just know that this is the very last time I will even be tempted to cover for you,” he warned, ignoring the fact they both knew it was a blatant lie. Sure, he wouldn’t mind to do without M’s scolding, but Q liked that sense of thrill that came with helping Bond.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked, instead.

      Bond could out right thank Q for his services in helping cover for him, perhaps even verbally lament the fact that the younger man was threatening not to help him out of more dire situations. His assistance was most certainly appreciated, however not entirely necessary. Bond knew the quartermaster took his job quite seriously, as did the agent contrary to popular belief. He suspected that the thrill of lending not strictly prohibited assistance was also enticing, even for a straight-edged man like Q.     "Of course, Q.” Bond started, offering him a mild look of curled lips and mischief-twinkling eyes. It would simply take the right incentive, he suspected.     With his attention back on the flight path, that question hanging between them, Bond hummed a considerate note. As much affirmation that his mission was successful as anyone would get until he’d worked out all of the details and was prepared to share them.

[yourkindquartermaster-blog]

Reblog if you’re polyamorous, support polyamorous people, or think polyamorous people and relationships are valid