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krasnye heeft gereageerd op je bericht: Q has a spinning chair
Q is probably not allowed to sit in said chair because cats abd spinning chairs have a history.
'ive been expecting you ………… mr bond…' *turns chair and pets cat on lap*
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krasnye replied to your post: .
Wait he died again?!
bucky barnes , dead again already : a comprehensive checklist death #1 : the death that led to his becoming the winter soldier. ( in the films he doesn’t die because of the serum , in the comics he does actually die. ) death #2 : the death that actually happened before death #1 because of cosmic time travel fuckery. here , bucky is shot in the torso by red skull -- though this death is technically erased by the use of the cosmic cube , inference dictates he still lived with the echoes of it ( aka he could feel the wounds ) death #3 : helmut zemo straps him to an obsessive replica of the rocket he died on originally , in an obsessive replica of the warehouse the rocket was stored in , and blows him up in an obsessive replica of his original death. only , presumably , this time he‘s much more dead.
#metro #krasnye #vorota (at Moscow, Russia)
Foggy: Your muse just came home from a business trip--and it's been a while. My muse's idea of a welcome home is pressing them against the wall and kissing them before they even get their shoes off.
It’s taken even longer than usual for Chris to arrive back home. Something with a delayed plane (which always manages to get Q’s nerves tickled). When he hears the secured door being opened, he runs towards the agent and pulls them into a tight hug, turning into a kiss, turning into a hungry making out session against the wall.
“ I’ve missed you. ”
“can you come over?”
“Sure I can.” Q told Chris on the other end of the phone, his voice concerned. “I was just finishing up here anyway. Where are you?”
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“there’s no reason for you to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.” Q calmly told Chris, even though he didn’t let his eyes look directly into the others. “Honeypots are honeypots.–– I HOPE YOU HAD FUN THOUH.” He added, a bit too bitter.
⊕ for an aesthetic graphic for our muses.
here :)
“I’m sorry for waking you… I had a really bad nightmare.”
Q poured steaming tea into the mugs that were standing in front of Chris on the kitchen table. He suppressed a tired yawn and sat down beside them, wrapping his dressing gown tighter around him to protect him from his cold flat.
‘ That’s quite alright. ’ He stared at Chris with concerned eyes. They certainly looked as though they’d had a nightmare. ‘ Would you like to talk about it, perhaps? ’ He couldn’t even imagine the kinds of nightmares field agents had to put up with. Who knew what kind of terrors Chris had to conquer at night.
