cicerfics

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I got this Chinese fortune back last summer and kept it all this time. First female president!? Let's gooo 🤞🤞🤞

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MI6 Cafe Rec Spotlight

We got a lot of recs from the 007 Fest wrap-up survey and we want to spotlight the excellent work in this fandom. So we're bringing back our recommendation spotlight!

If you have a fancreation you want to shout-out, let us know via this form. We'll add it to our queue.

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Creation: as gaps between the teeth by @cicerfics

What makes this awesome: Gorgeous and devestating. -- @ato-the-bean

Summary: While Q is paying a difficult, painful visit, Bond turns up unexpectedly. Though he wasn't invited, he might be just what Q needs in this particular moment.

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There are benefits to being turned into a small cat thanks to an accident in Q Branch's chemistry lab.

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got read to filth last night

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More wonderful photos of Gaia the Black-Footed Cat. She was very eepy and a tad shy/hungry as she did hide in her private area where they feed her for a while.

She has the best Grumpy faces.

But also is just too cute when sleeping sitting up.

[cicerfics]

i love characters who are always like fear not, i shall take care of this problem for you….. by sacrificing myself!! and everyone else is like i swear to god if you pull this shit again i’ll kill you

[cicerfics]

Netflix November Fanwork Fest!

Came up with a quick game to play this coming November~ Use one (or all 30 if you're up for a challenge) of the below Netflix movie previews as inspiration for a fanwork.

You can use the title, part or all of the summary, or even the dialogue that is captured in the screenshot. Write a haiku, a fandom-specific alternative summary, or a ficlet! Draw a doodle, a fanart version of the movie's poster, or a comic! Create a fanvid, set up a diorama, or crochet an amigurumi! The imaginary sky is the limit~

Please post during November, and tag with #netflix november fanwork fest.

(Originally came up with this for the @mi6-cafe peeps, but anyone can play~)

[cicerfics]

Bond, staring at his own teeny paws: ...AM I AN ANIMAL?! Q, who can only hear hissing and yowling: I CAN FIX THIS!!

[cicerfics]

Chapter 12 of Let Me Count the Ways is up on AO3!

In this chapter, Q realises he has to make a decision, and Bond ends up in a bit of a pickle.

Full summary below the cut…

Let Me Count the Ways by luminiferocity Chapters: 12/20 Fandom: James Bond (Craig Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James Bond/Q Characters: James Bond, Q (James Bond), Eve Moneypenny, Bill Tanner, M | Gareth Mallory, Madeleine Swann, Mathilde (James Bond) Additional Tags: No Time to Die (2021) Fix-It, Canon-Typical Violence, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, and they were HOUSEMATES, James Bond's Tendency to Run, Q Backstory (James Bond), BAMF Q (James Bond), James Bond Is A Menace, Q is a Little Shit, Bond is Delighted, M | Gareth Mallory is So Done

Summary:

“I bet you can’t name five things that make me an attractive option.” Q cocks his head, as if considering Bond. “We can’t all seduce our way to as long a trail of broken lovers as you. Even at your advanced age.”

Q thinks Bond is incapable of actually being offended, hence why he feels safe to throw aspersions his way. Indeed, Bond’s eyes register surprise, then they crinkle in amusement.

“I bet you I can name six.”

“Hmm?”

“Six reasons why our dear Quartermaster is a catch. Number one, you’re incredibly charming.”

+

Or, what if Bond crashes Q’s date that night and never bloody leaves. A slow burn following NTTD and beyond, including Bond and Q discovering what they want in life and how to be the kind of people that can hold onto it.

[cicerfics]

Shop , Patreon , Books and Cards , Mailing List

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sitting and pondering

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bonds.

This was based off a prompt given to me by @eragonsaphira forever ago. All you really need to know is that in Australia and New Zealand, we have an underwear brand called Bonds. You can see where this is going. Rated E. Read here or on AO3.

Bond’s thumb trails over Q’s lower back. Not satisfied with interrupting Q’s routine at work, he seems intent on bringing chaos to Q’s domestic routine as well. That single touch has all the intent of distracting Q from getting his early-morning load of washing done.

“Is there a reason,” Bond purrs, voice still husky from sleep, “that you’re parading around with my name on your pants?”

“What? Your name isn’t—“ Q puts down his laundry basket and looks down at the waistband of his briefs. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Recent purchase?”

“No. I got them years ago when I was in Australia with—” Q stops, remembering he really shouldn’t be letting slip about any past beaus high-up in Britain’s intelligence community. Also, he has no urge to encounter Bond’s distinctively green-eyed side, though he suspects that particular boat has already sailed. “Never mind. I was in Sydney.”

“With who?” Something else seems to dawn on Bond, and he narrows his eyes. “I thought you were afraid of flying.”

“Ah, yes. Well, I wasn’t at the time, and the airline lost my luggage, so I bought some clothes. I happened to quite like these, so I kept them.”

“Who were you with, Q?”

“No one important. Though I suppose you aren’t in the mood to leave a man some secrets.”

Bond hums, pressing his mouth to Q’s ear. “You seem to have quite a few of them.”

There’s no real reproach to it. Bond’s hands are still playing at the waistband of his pants with intent. All the same, Q readies himself to part with a few facts about about his past. As casual as this little arrangement is, Q isn’t about to give Bond a reason not to trust him.

“I was there with an ex-boyfriend. And I’m not afraid of flying. I never went to Macau because I’m not a bloody errand boy. M didn’t take kindly to being reminded.”

“Moneypenny is hardly an errand girl.”

“True. I imagine she had other reasons for turning up in your hotel room,” remarks Q loftily. “I had someone from Q Branch ready to go when she intervened.”

Bond smiles, amused. “Jealous, were you?”

“Sorry to tell you, but I was seeing someone at the time.” Q hopes that comes across as casual enough for Bond to move past it swiftly, but his hopes are shot through when Bond's gaze sharpens.

“More ex-boyfriends.”

“Wonders never cease. And on the subject of exes, you’re not allowed to give me any flack at all.”

Bond ignores that in favour of rubbing the cotton of the briefs between his fingers. As he does, his thumb works over and over a sensitive spot on Q’s hip. Q has no doubt he’s doing it on purpose. Bond knows enough about Q’s body these days to play it like a violin.

“They’re cheap,” Bond tuts, snapping at the waist.

Q rolls his eyes. “They’re serviceable. Come to think of it, I believe you’ve been described that way too.”

“Fine things can be serviceable. If they have my name on them, they ought to be better quality.”

“It’s not actually your name. You do see that, don’t you? Or is your eyesight going in your ripe old age?”

Bond smacks Q’s arse rather hard for that, and Q tries very hard not to let out the noise that gathers in his throat.

“I’m willing to forgive the lack of apostrophe,” decides Bond. “I like seeing my name on you.”

“Evidently. You’ve never spanked me before.”

“I should have. You’re a terror.”

“Shall I lie on my front and think of England then? Perhaps you’d like me to call you Da—”

He gets another swat against the other cheek for that, then, with an impatience that signals he’s finished with games for the morning, Bond plasters himself to Q’s back, wrapping his arms around Q’s waist. He’s still warm from bed, and it sends a delicious shiver through Q that only gets stronger as Bond plays lightly with one of his nipples.

“I’d rather you be quiet and come to bed," whispers Bond, "where you’re going to keep those on and ride me until your thighs are shaking and I have to hold you up.”

That sounds like the best use of an hour or two Q has ever heard in his life, but in the interests of annoying Bond even more—something else he considers another excellent use of time— he sighs, pretending to be vexed in spite of the contrary evidence in his pants.

“That sounds like a lot of work for a Sunday.”

“Since when have you been afraid of a bit of weekend work? Get upstairs.”

Q doesn’t budge, though he has plans to soon. Instead, he turns around and leans in to whisper in Bond’s ear.

“You know, they came in a pack of five, and I bought more than one. This isn’t the first time I’ve paraded around with your name on my arse.”

Bond groans and pulls Q into a hot and demanding kiss. It lasts an age, which is not nearly long enough. For all the joy Q gets out of their bickering, he’d be happy never to speak again if it meant Bond would kiss him like this all day, with his searing tongue and skilled lips, and teeth that ever only bite as hard as Q wants them to.

When the break apart, Q is still in the mood to tease. “In fact, if I remember correctly, I was wearing them the day we met, which I considered a very funny joke at the time. And after I handed over that gun, I thought it would be even more fun if, without arousing suspicion, of course—”

“Christ, Q.”

“—we paid a visit to the men’s bathroom so you could find out where my loyalties really lay.”

“You can't be serious. I looked like a wreck,” says Bond, incredulous. He seems a bit overcome.

“I have a great fondness for wrecks. Perhaps that explains why I’m finding this caveman act so…” Q hums, content. Quite seriously, he admits, “I was yours from the start, you know. You’ve never had to worry about that.”

Bond tugs him in for another kiss. Mercifully, there are no more words after that for a very long time.

[cicerfics]

looked up some pictures of sleeping giraffes and cannot stress enough how good a decision that was

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pov you’re on tumblr for halloween:

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It’s Halloween !!!!!

Obligatory James Bond ass wiggle post