Bond. James Bond.

For Queen and Country. Bond. James Bond. 007 with MI6. I tend to get the job done, and done right most times. Causalities do ensue, but what can one do? I work for M and MI6, and I will until my final death. My hobby? Resurrection. And I take my vodka martini shaken, not stirred. ((Independent RP blog for James Bond. Tracked tag is 007reportingfreelance. Both mun and muse are legal, so this may become NSFW. All NSFW will be under a Read More.))

[ildemoneperfetto-deactivated201]

Ask my character deeply personal questions. Try to make them stutter.

[allmistyandwetwithrain]

viejito sexy 

[simmaellersjunk]

[kingroberto]

9 Pics of Mr. Daniel Craig ↳Black n White

“Well, competition is so important, even when you`re an artist. And if you deny that there`s competition, then you`re a liar. That`s what gives you your ambition”.

[007reporting]

EEEEE, YAY. IT REALLY IS SO, SO, SO VERY GOOD TO SEE YOU BACK. WELCOME BACK TO THE GAME, 007.

Thank you, Quartermaster. I'll do my best to keep up this time. Hit me, everyone. I'd like to see what you've got for me. Prompts, drabbles, M!As, anything.

[007reporting]

ooc; hey no worries~ xx I was just worried about you because I didn't know where you went.

//Alright, yes, I understand... I was... personally... erm, busy, I guess you could put it, with real life issues.

[007reporting]

HI, GOOD TO SEE YOU'RE BACK? I MISSED YOU.

//I MISSED YOU TOO. YES, I'M BACK, AND I'M GOING TO TRY TO BE ACTIVE AGAIN.

[007reporting]

ooc; i haven't seen you around! I've missed ya!

//I've missed you all, too. I should be back, now, everyone. Not just... stalling around and pretending like I'm back.

[007reporting]

The doctor said that if they took you out, I would die, because I couldn’t live without such a good friend. Give this heart to everyone you don’t want to lose in 2013 including me if you care. Try to collect twelve, it is not easy. Be honest and send this to anyone who made you smile this year. ♥ //I know you haven't been around in a while, and I hope everything's okay. Love for Christmas and the New Year... <3

//I'm really sorry about that... I... I've been... busy, with my life. I'll try to be on more, I swear.

[007reporting]

What tag do you track because there's a 007-reporting that I don't want to mix you up with

//I track 007reportingfreelance, anon.

[maninmydreams]

[sandruch]

[kingroberto]

[007reporting]

"You...?" She tilted her head, putting a hand on his cheek lightly.

"Never mind... how have you been?" James asked her softly, biting his lip.

[007reporting]

"James!" Sophia giggled, running up to him. "I missed you.."

"Darling, I'm sorry, I..." he muttered, turning his head. "Hello, Sophia..."

[warfinisher]

baby shot me down

[007reporting]

If James had been doing anything other than sitting on the couch, reading, he probably wouldn’t have heard the soft knock on his door. He set down the file and his mug of tea, standing up and walking towards the door. He grabbed his palm-printed Walther on the way, curling his finger around the trigger, making sure his steps were light, unable to be detected if such was necessary.

When he got to the heavy wood, he looked through the peephole to see a bloody Q. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he whispered under his breath, quickly setting down the Walther, unlocking the door and pulling it open. “Q! What in god’s name bloody happened to you!?” he asked, his voice worried. He helped the man inside, closing and locking the door quickly behind him, leading Q to the couch and ripping his shirt off. That’s when he spotted the bullet wound. If it had been any closer to Q’s lung, James’ Quartermaster would be dead right now.

He rushed to the kitchen, grabbing his first aid kit, before running back to Q, starting to clean his wound, around the bullet. “I’m going to have to take the bullet out, alright? It’s going to hurt, and I really do not want you to be feeling more pain because of me, but it’s for your own good. Understand me, William…? Can you hear me?” he asked, pushing Q’s hair out of his face, feeling his forehead before searching for Q’s pulse, to make sure he was stable.

[warfinisher]

Q is feverish and his eyes are heavy-lidded, but he’ll survive.  Without much of a choice, he helplessly leans into the other’s muscled frame, simply nodding his head with a pitiful whimper that he understands thoroughly.  He hisses softly in pain when James begins to clean the wound, but he makes no effort to struggle; he trusts James one hundred percent.  ”…To answer your question,” he mumbles, “I was protecting an old lady down the street.  Where is my medal of valor?  People these days.”

Obviously, he isn’t wounded enough so that he still can’t maintain his illustrious attitude, but his breath grows difficult and his vision is starting to blur.  At least, he’s quite content bleeding all over James’ sofa.  ”Also, I liked that shirt.  You owe me a new one.”

[007reporting]

James rolls his eyes slightly, tossing the bloodied rags he'd used to clean Q's wound into the trash. "You're bleeding out and your greatest concern is your shirt. Fine, William, I'll get you a damned shirt," he shakes his head, trying not to chuckle. "Deep breath, please, I'm taking out the bullet," James then informs Q, glad that the bullet wasn't lodged too deeply. He takes a pair of tweezers, touching them to the wound and clamping them to the bullet, tugging it out quickly.

"Sorry, didn't want to hurt you too badly," he informs the young man, looking down at him. He bites his lip, taking some bandages and pressing them to the wound, before helping Q sit up, wrapping gauze around his stomach. "There... relax, darling... Would you like a blanket...? Some tea?" he offers, his blue eyes looking worriedly down at his Quartermaster.

[warfinisher]

baby shot me down

It hurts.  He has no idea how James does this on a daily basis.  He’s not even the hero type, but he had to go bloody save some random lady on the streets from a bunch of street thugs.  The scariest part is that he hasn’t even thought twice about it.  He’s never been the hero, but James is affecting him.  And he knows James isn’t a hero either.  Neither of them are heroes.  Neither of them are on the side of the angels.

And for his heroic duty, he wins himself a clean bullet wound through the side of his lean torso.  His shirt blossoms with his own blood and he has a slim hand pressed hard against his side in feeble attempt to stop the bleeding.  There’s nobody he can call for help.  Everyone is away and he’s alone.  Except for a certain James Bond whose heart he broke not too long ago.  …And how convenient the man is only a few streets away.

Forcibly, with no small effort, he somehow manages to stagger to the front of the man’s door.  He isn’t aware of the trail of blood left in his dragging wake and he just leans heavily on the door, knocking weakly on the wood.  ”James,” is all he can manage to breathe without gasping in pain, “…Please.”

[007reporting]

If James had been doing anything other than sitting on the couch, reading, he probably wouldn't have heard the soft knock on his door. He set down the file and his mug of tea, standing up and walking towards the door. He grabbed his palm-printed Walther on the way, curling his finger around the trigger, making sure his steps were light, unable to be detected if such was necessary.

When he got to the heavy wood, he looked through the peephole to see a bloody Q. "You've got to be kidding me," he whispered under his breath, quickly setting down the Walther, unlocking the door and pulling it open. "Q! What in god's name bloody happened to you!?" he asked, his voice worried. He helped the man inside, closing and locking the door quickly behind him, leading Q to the couch and ripping his shirt off. That's when he spotted the bullet wound. If it had been any closer to Q's lung, James' Quartermaster would be dead right now.

He rushed to the kitchen, grabbing his first aid kit, before running back to Q, starting to clean his wound, around the bullet. "I'm going to have to take the bullet out, alright? It's going to hurt, and I really do not want you to be feeling more pain because of me, but it's for your own good. Understand me, William...? Can you hear me?" he asked, pushing Q's hair out of his face, feeling his forehead before searching for Q's pulse, to make sure he was stable.