in case you thought i was over this moment

Twenty One Pilots Go Pants-Free for First Grammy Award

When Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun of twenty one pilots hopped up to accept their very first Grammy (Best Pop Duo/Group Performance for their hit “Stressed Out”) viewers might have thought for a moment that the lads were adjusting their pants zippers before walking to the stage.

As it turned out, nope, that wasn’t the case — they took their pants entirely off,  facing the audience in their underpants.

As the disbelieving crowd looked on, Joseph gave a quick — and, it turns out, heartwarming and humorous  — explanation for the striptease.

“The story — it starts in Columbus, Ohio, a few years ago, and it was before Josh and I were able to make money playing music,” he said. “I called him up, and I said, ‘Hey, Josh, you want to come over to my rental house and watch the Grammys?’ And he said, ‘Yeah, who is hanging there?’ And I said, ‘A couple my roommates are coming to watch the Grammys with us’

“And as we were watching, we noticed every single one of us was in our underwear. And seriously, Josh turned to me — and we were no one at that time — and he said, if we ever go to the Grammys, if we ever win a Grammy, we should receive it just like this.

“So, not only is this amazing, but I want everyone who is watching at home to know that you could be next,” he concluded. “Because anyone, from anywhere, can do anything!”

Host James Corden was impressed enough by the duo’s chutzpah that he himself appeared in his skivvies directly following the commercial break.

The 59th Annual Grammy Awards were aired live from Los Angeles February 12. Twenty one pilots were nominated for a total of three awards.

Just a little NCIS story...

Hi everyone!

So, along with the Magnificent Seven story that I wrote a while back, this is another little story that I decided to write because I was really bored today and because I really like the show and thought, why not? Also there isn’t exactly any new Avengers related content in the ask box that I can make at the moment, so please, send some requests through!

I had a lot of fun writing this haha

Keep reading

Hate- Lafayette X Reader

Request: 104 with Lafayette? @douxstar

It would be much simpler if I could just hate him. Of course that wasn’t the case though. Of course I had to fall in love with him like every other person who had laid eyes on him.

“I would believe you when you say that you hate him but then there are moments like these in which you stare at him, lost in thought.” Eliza chimmed and I rolled my eyes.

“I do hate him.”

“I somehow really doubt that.” She smirked and I sighed, glancing over at him to see that he was smirking at me. I glared at him angrily before looking over at Eliza and giving her a pointed look.

“He’s an asshole.”

“He’s a cute asshole.” Angelica added and I gave her an exasperated look.

“Not you too?”

“C'mon you have to admit you find him some what attractive.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Hey! Lafayette!” Eliza called out and I covered her mouth and I turned around to see what damage had been done. Hamilton and his crew were laughing loudly and Lafayette was walking over towards us.

“Goddammit.” I hissed and I looked at Eliza before grabbing my bag and standing up to leave the library. I started walking out before Lafayette grabbed my arm to stop me. I turned around and looked at him.

“What do you want?”

“Just an explanation.”

“For what?”

“Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t owe you an answer.”

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t. I don’t owe you anything and as far as I am concerned, I never will.”

“From the moment you laid eyes on me you hated me.” He pointed out.

I stared down at my hands, not meeting his eyes. I sighed and ran my hands through my hair.

“I didn’t hate you then.” I said quietly.

“Why now then?”

“Because you kissed me! You kissed me one day and I saw you making out with some new French girl the next.” I snapped and I pulled my arm from his grasp, leaving.

I left the library and I rushed back to my dorm, slamming the door behind me. My phone buzzed and I looked at it to see several concerned messages from Angelica and Eliza. I shut my phone off, not bothering to reply to them and I heard the door open and Eliza looked in.


“No. You don’t get to say anything about this. Yes I kissed Lafayette but it was a mistake, okay? I thought that he actually liked me but I was wrong. He kissed a different girl the next day and I never told him that I saw. But I tried to convince myself that I hated him.”

“You don’t hate him, do you?”

“What do you think Eliza? He just has to have this stupid laugh and this stupid voice. And you guys just have to mention how attractive he is. I know, okay?”

“Why don’t you just try and start over?”

“Because in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been an ass to him for the past couple of months.” I said and I started pacing around the dorm. “Can I be alone?”

“No. Do you know why? Because I am tired of watching you throw away opportunities for you to be happy. I am tired of watching you just stand to the sides and watch people that you care for get spoken for! When you are alone you get the awfullest idea that you deserve to be unhappy so no.” She snapped and I looked at her surprised. She took a deep breath, calming herself down.

“I’m sorry.”

“If you really are, you’ll talk to Laf. Give him a chance, okay? He messed up.” She said and I nodded. She grabbed my hand and led me outside of the dorm building. I saw Lafayette shivering in the cold. When he saw me, he was relieved and moved closer to me.

“I understand why you hate me. I would hate myself if I was you.”

“I would like to start over.” I told him and he smiled a bit.

“You’re just saying that because Eliza-”

“Yes Eliza encouraged me to do this but these are my words. I forgive you Laf. But I hate you, still.” I smiled slightly, looking down.
“No you don’t, mon ami. You just called me Laf.”

Better Than Great

for @levis-spooky-ass - thanks for the request! I did it a little different than you were expecting probably, but who knows! Maybe there’ll be a follow up one-shot! in any case, I hope you like it!

Rated: T


He spotted her rolling her shoulders one day after a particularly difficult diplomatic mission. It was a curious sight, considering she had gone on a tangent not even a full three hours ago on how she was fine, more than fine, great, actually. Never mind the obvious exhaustion digging little trenches under her eyes, or how she’d stifle a yawn every so often.

She probably thought she was alone in the large helm of the ship, looking over the holographic screens while she rubbed her fingers over her neck. In a moment of weakness, of supposed isolation, Allura allowed her head to fall forward with a slight groan. Shiro rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a fond smile before quietly walking up behind her.

“I thought you said you were fine,” he said, choking down a grin when she jolted upright and whirled around to face him. A strand of her silver hair fell right between her eyes, making her surprised expression appear a little more wild and frayed.

“Shiro!” Shiro waved bashfully at her gasp. His question flickered between them and the space of her blank blinking. She frowned at him, lower lip jutting out a touch before she sighed.

“I am fine,” she said, but she didn’t even bother squeeze forced cheerfulness in her tone. “Better than fine. Great, actually.”

Keep reading

All Night Long

a/n: so, here’s the long awaited super giant monster ashton smut that contains everything you could ever want. it started with a short blowjob scene that i posted ages ago on my old blog (which is why a few paragraphs may sound familiar!!) then i decided to extend it and it ended up being over 7k words.

just in case you can’t already tell, this is pretty much 100% smut. no signs of a plot or storyline anywhere. purely spank bank material. you get the picture. enjoy and please reblog if you loved it, as i’m still a tiny baby blog at the moment!

Keep reading

mrbandicoot  asked:

It does say that submissions are closed on mobile, people just aren't reading your blog

ah, thank you for telling me

for a moment I really thought maybe mobile Tumblr was messing up my description but I guess that’s not the case and people are just skipping over that

anonymous asked:

I don't know if you've seen the new Beauty and the Beast movie, or if you don't want to, which is fine, but in case one of those reasons was because of Le Fou being gay, I hope it's alright with you to hear my input as part of the LGBTQ community. I think for the most part, it wasn't as bad as what we all thought it would be. It's definitely not perfect, he does act stereotypical and the "gay moment" really wasn't that clear or long at all. But I think they gave him more development than 1/2

what people thought he would have. without spoiling too much, in case you haven’t seen it, he does deal with an obsession over Gaston, but over time he realises his actual nature. He has a happy ending. It is a little campy, but I think it’s just because it’s a Disney movie. I know this isn’t the only flaw in this movie, but I personally don’t see it as a big issue. I know that some people will disagree though. 2/2

I have seen the movie but I do like your input. Thank you for sharing it.

I think my major problem is that it didn’t feel serious. It felt like they were treating it like a joke. Does that make sense? Yeah, it wasn’t overly offensive or anything but it still just felt stale to me. I think they could have done better. But I did like seeing Le Fou grow a backbone


“Children,” intoned my father, “should be seen and not heard.”

“You can’t talk unless I call on you,” sighed my exasperated teacher.

“You’re just a lot to deal with,” explained my as-of-moments-before-ex boyfriend, in a voice that made it obvious he had a clear and winning case.

“Can you tone it down? Take it back? Less is more. You’re over the top. Too loud. Too big. Too… much.”

How do I be less me? But I learned. The helpful voices taught me the proper size I should be and the amount of world I was allowed to inhabit. I thought something was wrong with me because it made me sad and angry. But the binding of my soul took hold, and gradually it assumed the required shape.

“You’re thinking too small,” said the Smart Lady. I literally didn’t understand. I don’t do what you’re asking of me. I waved my Fourth of July sparkler furiously in her face. “No! No! See this? You can’t dim this!” She took me by the hand and led me to the powder kegs. “Light them.” I unfolded and fireworks eclipsed the stars.

My exquisite friend Briana says, “I won’t dim my light because you’re afraid to shine.” My alien, elfin friend Misha commandeered an entire industrial complex and part of the Los Angeles river with purple blossoms that whispered a quarter of a mile message, “As if nothing magical had happened.” They’re right.

Magic is what happens when we refuse to accept the boundaries other people ask of us because of their own discomfort. What if… what if “right sized” is filling up the sky?


Ducky’s face softened when he saw you sitting in the morgue, staring into space. You started when he entered, your face turning apologetic.

“Sorry, Ducky, I got lost in thought,” you rubbed the back of your neck, trying to smile though he could tell it was an effort. In that moment, he made up his mind to help you feel better about the case.

“It’s perfectly fine,” Ducky assured as he fiddled with his stereo until he found a suitable song. He stepped forwards so he was standing in front of you, “Come on then, arms out.”

You frowned, confused, “What’re you doing, Ducky?”

“Cheering you up. Now, come on, arms up, one hand on my shoulder, the other in mine.”
A small smile ghosted over your lips as you obeyed, “Are you going to try and teach me to dance?”

“Not just any dance, [f/n], I’m going to teach you to waltz!” Ducky proclaimed, helping to guide your feet into the proper positions, “Just follow my lead, dear. One, two three. One, two, three. One, two three. That’s right, just like that.”

You couldn’t hold back the incredulous laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation and Ducky smiled. Gradually, you began to get the hang of the dance and your movements became more fluid. You let out a giggle of child-like delight as Ducky twirled you, allowing yourself to come to a halt.

“Thanks, Ducky.” you smiled softly, your face slightly flushed.

Ducky returned the grin, reaching up to press a kiss to your forehead. “It was my pleasure, darling.”

*not my gif

Do you have to be so crude?”

“Well, that’s what it is. What would you prefer I call it?”

Hermione paused for a moment, and Harry suppressed a snigger at the thought that she was actually trying to come up with suitable names for his anus.

“How about hole?” he suggested, smiling slightly.

Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste. “No. It sounds so impersonal.”

“Entrance?” Harry tried again.

Hermione shook her head. “Hardly romantic. And in any case, it’s more of an exit, if you think about it.”

Harry sighed in defeat. “Does it really matter what I call it? I’m far more concerned about what’s going in it.”

Ignoring his comment, Hermione continued to mull over the topic. “I think love hole would work. Or maybe rosebud, a puckered rosebud. That’s much more romantic.”

Harry rolled his eyes, unable to quite believe the conversation they were having. “Okay,” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes. “The thing is, Hermione, I’m worried that Draco’s cock won’t fit in my puckered rosebud of a love hole. What do you suggest?
TMR Preference #1: Your first kiss

Thomas: He was in the pits once again. Gally was going to sentence him to death in the morning but there was a group that wanted to help him escape the maze. You went with them to bring him food and discuss the plans for the next morning. As you were leaving Thomas called your name, “Y/N! Wait!” You waved the others on. He reached up to touch hold your hand, “Just in case we don’t make it tomorrow-”

“We’re going to make it Thomas,” you insisted. 

“Okay but just in case for whatever we won’t have another moment alone after this I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve valued your council and friendship over the last couple days. Thank you,” he confessed.

“I did what I thought was right.”

“Y/N,” he softened his voice, looking up at you and you knew. Leaning down, you met his lips for a quick kiss. Leaning back, you stroked his face. 

“I know. I’ll see you in the morning,” you departed, only looking back once.

Newt: Sitting, watching the bonfire one night you were sharing a bottle of Gally’s concoction and were both sufficiently incoherent. “This is disgusted,” you slurred. Newt raised the glass.

“Ah yes but here we are smiling and there they are not,” he smiled. You laughed into his shoulder. “That didn’t make any sense did it?” he asked. You looked up and realized how close you two were. You were used to being teased by the boys in the glade since you were such good friends but you never thought anything of it. Until now.  Maybe it was the drink, maybe it wasn’t but all of a sudden your lips collided. He caressed your face gently and you put your hands on his chest pulling gently on his shirt. Deepening the kiss, he moved his hands to your waist and you clenched his shirt, threatening to tear it off. You heard howling and cheers from the boys. You broke apart and Newt stood up slowly offering a hand to help you on your feet. “Why don’t we go somewhere more private?”

Gally: You were a runner and one day you fell and broke your ankle. Minho had to carry you back to the glade and you both just made it. The boys came running. Gally began to yell and the medjacks helped you into their tent. “Calm down, Gally, I’m okay,” you tried to tell him but your voice was too weak to make enough noise. Out of energy, your vision began to blur and then darkness. You woke a few hours later, bandaged and healing with a worried Gally sitting next to you. Laughing you teased him, “Is that Captain Gally, the strong builder man, worried about me?” He breathed a laugh. You got up on your elbows.

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” Gally tried to stop you. 

“If you could just help me get these pillows to support my back, that’d be fantastic,” you snapped. He helped. Leaning over you to adjust the other side of you, he kept looking at your face. You watched. “Thank you,” you said softly. Still leaning over you with hands on each side he looked into your eyes,

“I just don’t want to lose you too,” he confessed. You reached up and brushed his cheek where tears were threatening to appear. You had never seen him so scared and vulnerable. He put his forehead to yours and you tipped your head upward to meet his lips softly. You parted for a moment and then he kissed you again, with need.

“Oh!” You broke apart to see Jeff, “I’m sorry, I can come back later. I was just checking to make sure you were up.” Gally sat back down next to you and refused to look anywhere else but the floor out of embarrassment. He also didn’t let go of your hand for the entire time Jeff was checking up on you.

Minho: We waited the whole night, hoping that miraculously Minho and Thomas would come back with Alby. But no one had survived a night in the maze. As soon as the sun was up, you bolted out of bed and ran to the doors. The rest of the boys came to check too but they left. Finally it was just you, Chuck and Zart. “They’re not coming back guys, let’s go,” Zart said. All three turned to leave, a single tear ran down your face for Minho. Just then Zart exclaimed something. You whipped around to see Thomas and Minho carrying Alby through the doors. You helped them get Alby to a med-jack and then asked how they survived. Thomas had killed a griever. Most of the boys dissipated until it was just you and Minho. You ran to him, leaping up into his arms. 

“I never thought I’d see you again,” you whispered. He began to his your head, cheeks and your entire face until finally he reached your lips. He kissed you longingly. Pulling away, he looked into your eyes. “What was that for,” you breathed.

“All I could think about while I was in there was how I never got to do that,” he professed. You smiled and tilted your head upwards to kiss him again.


My favorite moments from TSOT are the practically hidden lines ‘Anytime.’ and ‘I’m here if you want it.’

I was making screen caps of these parts this morning. I got to John saying his line and I had never really paid attention to his reaction after, since I always thought he just kind of drunkenly wasn’t totally aware of what happened. But going over it again, he knows what he just said, and he knows what he just exposed about himself.

In case it isn’t clear the first image was taken right after Sherlock shook John awake. At first I thought it was just him being defensive. But then you have the second one, where you can see John realizes what he just said out loud and in front of Sherlock. And in the third, my favorite of the set, you can see his ‘I can’t believe I just said that, thank god I got away with it.’ face. This all takes place in a matter of five seconds, but it’s there.

already i’m so lonesome i could die

Vietnam AU

Strange, the things you remember. Single images and feelings that stay with you, down through the years.

Like the moment Claire realized that her marriage to Frank Randall was over.

Her mind jumped and danced from thought to thought as Frank told her everything.

Or at least – what she hoped was everything.

It was true that his work prevented him from contacting her. From contacting anyone outside his division. As a result, it forged very close bonds with the people within Military Intelligence.

And in this case, extremely close bonds.

“A stenographer, Frank? Really?”

He looked down at his hands.

How come she hadn’t realized before that he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring?

“She was there, Claire. I have had to make some excruciatingly difficult decisions. I couldn’t talk to my CO about it. I couldn’t talk to my colleagues about it.”

“But you *could* tell her.”

He clenched his jaw. To his credit, he looked up at her and met her gaze squarely.

“I could. And I did. And Claire – Claire, this has absolutely nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me.”

The windowpane rattled as a truck drove by outside, plowing the snow-covered road.

Plowing a furrow right through what precious little remained of Claire’s heart.

“Are you fucking serious, Frank? I’m not stupid. Don’t give me the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ bullshit.” She sprang to her feet and turned away from him, peering out the window at something – anything – as long as it wasn’t his face.

“I’m stronger than that, Frank. I fucking *deserve* more than that.”

“You do, Claire. But it’s the truth. I swear to you – it’s the truth.”

Claire watched two MPs hitch a plow up to the front of a Jeep, get back inside, and slam the doors shut.

The windowpanes rattled again.

Behind her, Frank’s breaths were shallow.

She turned to face him. God, he looked sick in this terrible yellow light.

God, she felt sick just being in the same room as him.

“But an annulment, Frank?”

He nodded. “Yes – it’s the best way forward for us, Claire. We can petition the Church and then it will be quickly behind us. I don’t want to go to court. I don’t want to argue over what meager possessions we have – ”

“I don’t give a fuck about any of that, Frank. You know me better than that.”

He rested his head in his hands, digging his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know you anymore, Claire. And you know that as well as I do.”

Everything came into focus with those two short sentences.

“But an annulment – Frank, that’s saying that our marriage never officially happened. I – I can’t - ”

“It allows you – and me – to one day remarry in the eye of the Church. It will be quick and easy in our case – the priest will understand. Just think about it, Claire – in all the time we’ve been married, how many weeks have we actually spent together?”

Claire’s hands gripped the windowframe, feeling the cheap paint crumble in her hands. “This is a convenience for you, Frank. An easy way out. Don’t think I don’t see that.”

He shrugged. “You didn’t answer my question.”

She shook her head. “I’m not even dignifying it with a response. Because you’re giving up. Hasn’t everything I’ve said to you this afternoon proven to you that I’m willing to fight for you, Frank? That I’m willing to fight for our marriage? To do whatever the hell it takes to make it work?”

“You’re going to medical school, with our without me. It would be so much easier without me.”

“You didn’t even let me tell you that I’d be willing to go to school wherever you were stationed!”

Finally her voice rose to match her anger and indignation and impatience with the whole damn situation.

“I would have postponed it if it meant I could spend more time with you, you bastard! But you’re shutting the door in my face before I’ve even had a chance to explain myself.”

“You have your own plans, Claire. I don’t want to get in the way of them.”

“Bullshit,” she seethed. “Bullshit. You don’t want to even try to make this work.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

Memory surged – the first time she’d seen him do that was right before he’d proposed to her. That magical, far-off day when they were young and foolish and she was so, so naïve and didn’t care that he hadn’t given her a diamond to seal his promise.

“Claire – to be honest, I don’t. I have a woman waiting for me back on the west coast. I want to do right by her. I want to be married to her more than I want to be married to you.”

So this was how a marriage ended.

She wanted to hurl the bedside alarm clock at his head.

But instead she nodded, waiting for tears that never came.

Because to cry would indicate that there was emotion felt – and that the thing that was lost was worth mourning.

This thing – this marriage – that had been lost was not worth anything.

“Well then,” she rasped, hands on her hips, feeling so calm. Uncannily calm. “I want you to take care of all the paperwork for this annulment. I want you to pay for it. I want access to the storage locker where our things are kept. And then I never, ever want to see you again.”

“I can do that.” His voice was small. He was a shell of the man she thought he was.

Had he ever truly been the man she thought he was?

“And now I want you to get out of this room, and explain to your CO why I will be staying here indefinitely, until I hear back from medical schools. Because you have conveniently left me with nowhere else to go.”

“Claire – ”

“No, Frank. I was willing to make a life with you. To make a home with you. I flew halfway around the world for you, for something that I wanted. But if you don’t want it, then I sure as hell don’t want it.”

He stood and shuffled to the closet, retrieving his coat. He stood with his back to her as he buttoned it.

She strode across the room and opened the door.

He turned to retrieve his bag, then approached her.

“You’ll get in to every school you apply to. They’ll recognize your gift, Claire. I envy you, that you have such a calling.”

He was trying.

She didn’t care.

“I don’t want your envy. I don’t want anything from you, anymore. I wanted to give you everything, Frank.”

He shifted the bag on his shoulder. “I know, Claire. I’m sorry.”

“And I don’t want your apologies, either.”

He nodded. “I deserved that.”

For a long moment they looked at each other.

Claire’s right thumb and forefinger reached for her left hand, slid off his gold ring, and held it out to him.

“I don’t need this anymore.”

He secreted it away in the pocket of his dress trousers. Emotionless.

“Merry Christmas, Frank. I hope she makes you happy.”

Something flickered across his face – but then hardened.

“I wish you happiness, Claire. You deserve it.”

“I make my own happiness, Frank.”

He entered the dimly-lit corridor and faced her for the last time.

“You always have.”

Then he walked right out of her life.

She didn’t even stay in the door to watch him reach the end of the hallway.

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp locked the door behind her, leaned against it, counted to ten, and exhaled.


12x04 “American Nightmare”
This Little Light of Mine…

Oh Dean, you are elsewhere with your thoughts and emotions, aren’t you? But you just keep on keeping on, like you always have. Barreling through, working the case, but really just going through the motions, trying to forget about your feelings, but it doesn’t really work. Especially in moments like this one. When the pain and disappointment over what happened pierces right through the mask. And then there you stand, looking just as vulnerable and young like the young boy who lights a candle with his mom. It’s of course just headcanon, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Dean remembered a momen from his childhood here. Maybe Mary didn’t just tell Dean that “angls were watching over him”, but also lit a candle and prayed with Dean sometimes when she tucked him in.


You were trying to get some sleep after a long week at work. Which of course didn’t work as you were woken up at 3 am by your phone.
“Who the hell is calling at 3 am!?”
You reached over to grab your phone. It read Sherlock.
“You better have a damn good explanation for why your calling me at 3 am.”
It was a moment before he responded. You thought he might’ve hung up.
“I need you to..”
“Need me to what?”
He seemed hesitant to say anything.
“I need you to come over.”
You sighed in annoyance.
“Sherlock your flat is all the way across town, and I don’t have a car. And it’s 3 am.”
“Y/n I need help with this case.”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise.
“I’ve been offering to help you all week. What’s changed?”
Again, he didn’t seem to want to respond.
“Someone else was taken. The person I suspected. I have no leads, and I new someone else’s eyes.”
You grabbed your coat from a chair and walked through your flat and out the door.
“I’m on my way.”

[From Alexander Hamilton to Eliza Hamilton] 

September 6, 1781

I cannot refuse myself the pleasure of writing you a few lines. Constantly uppermost in my thoughts and affections, I am happy only when my moments are devoted to some office that respects you. I would give the world to be able to tell you all I feel and all I wish, but consult your own heart and you will know mine. What a world will soon be between us! 

To support the idea, all my fortitude is insufficient. What must be the case with you, who have the most female of female hearts? I sink at the perspective of your distress, and I look to heaven to be your guardian and supporter…Early in November, as I promised you, we shall certainly meet. Cheer yourself with this idea, and with the assurance of never more being separated. 

Every day confirms me in the intention of renouncing public life, and devoting myself wholly to you. Let others waste their time and their tranquillity in a vain pursuit of power and glory; be it my object to be happy in a quiet retreat with my better angel. 

A Hamilton

Hello lovelies! Sorry to bug you, I sent a prompt a few weeks ago and think it might have gotten lost when tumblr removed comments (it was on that post where you said Spectre was brilliant). So I thought I’d send it again just in case, please ignore it if it’s just queued up. Prompt: Q being protective of Bond when a young field agent refers to him as a relic, trying to get in Q’s good graces over tech. How Q retaliates is up to you. Bonus points if Bond finds out ;) – junetangerine

This is great fun. Jen.

“… excuse me?”

The agent in question – a fairly quiet boy, Dan, who was reasonably new to espionage and was still learning the ropes insofar as higher staff – looked at him stupidly for a moment; Q continued to fix his death-glare.

“… I thought that was… well, he is older than most of the other…”

“And he is also twice the agent you are, and probably ever will be,” Q told him, quite curtly. “I would refrain from criticism, unless you want to find everything you have ever touched falling to pieces in your hands, do I make myself clear?”

“I didn’t mean it as a lack of respect…”

“… which is interesting, as it came across that way.”

Both Q and Dan looked up at the door.

Dan went a little bit white.

The standoff stretched out, minute by minute, deeply uncomfortable.

“… I’m sorry,” Dan managed, quite evidently concerned as to his life expectancy. “I… well, I know Q jokes about it, and I wanted to join in…”

Bond and Q were considering their options; Dan meant no harm. He was a kid, really.

“It’s alright,” Bond thus said, with a rather creepy grin. “Prepubescent children always like to make petty jokes about older people. Once his balls drop he won’t be much of a problem.”

Dan flushed bright pink. “I…”

“I really wouldn’t,” Q recommended, before Dan could get another word in. “Just, look apologetic and get out of my office.”

Dan did as directed, muttering apologies in Bond and Q’s direction before making a bid for freedom, closing the door behind him.

Bond looked over Q. “I’m honoured.”


“You standing up for me,” Bond replied, with a slight purr in his voice. “Defending me. As that boy said: you call me far worse things than a ‘relic’.”

I’m allowed,” Q returned primly. “I know you better.”

“Is that a fact?”

Q raised an eyebrow. “You’re plotting something, double-oh seven,” he said bluntly. “I can see it. What’s going on?”

“You paid me a compliment.”

“Not quite, but I see the confusion.”

Bond was grinning, and Q was getting rather nervous.

“Would you like to come to dinner with me?”

Q froze.

There was another strange, burgeoning silence.

“… really?” Q asked, blinking with vague confusion. “But you’re…”

“A bisexual relic,” Bond completed, without prompting. “Interested? Unless you’re looking for a younger model.”

Q smiled a sideways smile. “The old ones are the best,” he replied brightly. “Dinner. Excellent. Tomorrow night?”


“Excellent,” Q repeated, with a slightly silly smile. “Now bugger off, I have work to do.”

Bond nodded, smirked, and sauntered out of the office.

Imagine sitting at home and hearing your parents fight, again! It is late evening, so you can’t really go out since you have to study tomorrow but you can’t sleep, caused of the incredible shouting your parents feel they need to do whenever they are together.. SOmetimes you think if you weren’t there maybe they wouldn’t fight that much, maybe they wouldn’t even live together, or they would be happier with each other…. Just into this thoughts your smartphone vibrates. “hello?” “Hey, Its me, Sherlock!”, your best friends’ voice comes out. “What?”, if Sherlock calls you he always wants something, like, driving him to another case or catching him at the police. “I just wanted to tell you that it is not your fault when your parents are fighting again! I feel that you suffer at the moment and caused of the time and the place where you are I know what makes you feel bad! Should I come over? I don’t want you to feel bad, you know I love you, right? Am there in 2 minutes!”. And with  this words he hangs up. When he comes over later you will have much to talk and also to do…