In truth, five years on, Q could only recall with any certainty the beginning of the night they spent together: one or two half-remembered snippets of conversation over a fine bottle of Beaujolais. Outside of that, Q found it hard to convince himself anything had happened at all.
But there were flashes. The heat of it all. The tackiness of sweat. A curtain of burnished blonde hair. The cheeky spark of life in Bond’s eye as he descended down Q’s body. Madeleine crooning about how good James was to him. The low way Bond swore as he snapped his hips into Q for the first time and laughter, so much laughter, before, during and after everything. Bond’s gruff huffing, Madeleine’s bitten off giggle, Q’s ungainly snort. The three of them in an enormous, gaudy bed, laughing their muscles into soreness.
Of course, there was also everything he didn’t remember.
Supportive Sunday is a day when we encourage you to support someone in the fandom!
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Kudos something you like
A short comment (“Loved this!” or “Extra kudos!”)
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Make a rec post
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Reblog this post with a rec
As part of Supportive Sundays, we’re also highlighting some fancreations with few comments that may be overlooked.
luck might play a part, by tsunegawa. Summary: James and Q take on a claw machine. [G, 00Q]
Nobody's Chasing, by FunkyinFishnet. Summary: Having finished his latest mission, Bond is looking for company and distraction but everyone seems to have dates and better offers. [G, Gen]
Dinner, by ayrtonwilbury. Summary: Q's mom comes over for dinner. [G, 00QSwann]
Still Here, by TheGoodDoctor. Summary: They speak of a legendary, nigh mythical captain. They say his ship can fly, that it needs no helmsman, that it is magical. [T, 00Q]
((Day 19, Polyamory Day! This fic didn’t want to be written! Like, at all! And did I learn my lesson from Felix Leiter Day and have it written in advance? No! Anyway, here’s this thing I typed up while feeling very ill earlier today. I really like this pairing, I’d like to try to do it justice in the future. No warnings, just Bond being a smitten dork))
Read it on Ao3
The problem with cooking, Bond decides, is that it’s boring when you have to do it alone.
He adores being able to sit down at the table (or on the sofa) with Madeleine and Q, with gentle conversation or easy silence and a meal to enjoy. He loves when Madeleine will steal the tomatoes off his plate, as if she’s getting away with something, because she knows he doesn’t actually like whole tomatoes overmuch. He loves how Q will beg bites of whatever cheesy thing Bond or Madeleine has because Q’s own meal will have minimal dairy so as not to make him ill, but he still complains about missing cheese. Bond loves talking about inconsequential things, taking time to not worry about the serious world outside their door.
Bond loves those moments, but he can’t find it in him to enjoy cooking for those moments quite as much – not when he’s the only one doing it. And he feels as though the other two don’t quite understand.
Q will happily cook entire meals on his own because he’s a tyrant who’s bad at sharing the kitchen.
Madeleine never became very fond of cooking and tends to do it only when she’s the least tired of the three of them. She’ll make breakfast sometimes, though – a special treat of truly excellent scrambled eggs, and never seems to mind doing it alone.
Bond, however, is a social creature and decides that, if he’s going to make dinner, then he’s going to recruit some help.
He finds Madeleine in the library (the room in which all their combined books had once been nicely organized and now were a rather hopeless mess that no one cares to fix; there is also a very nice couch, a table for drinks, and usually a cat) and feels as if he is being received by a queen. She is lounged out on the sofa, a napping cat on her lap and indulgent smile on her face – the one she wears when she knows Bond is going to try to convince her of something (and she always seems to know).
Part of Bond rankles at the idea of being indulged, coming to Madeleine as a peasant unto a tolerant queen. The rest of him manages to smother the feeling with purring smugness at the fact that this resplendent woman has dubbed him worthy of her time and affection.
In the end, she doesn’t take much convincing. He doesn’t charm her as he would a mark; Madeleine values sincerity above all else, and Bond simply lays out his thoughts for her, phrased pleasingly. The three of them (they’ll get to Q) cooking a nice dinner for themselves, spending a simple evening in each other’s company when they finally all have an evening off – wouldn’t that be nice?
It would be, she admits, and she puts her psychology journal to the side and says she’ll meet him in the kitchen if he can tear Q away from his tinkering.
Q, when Bond finds him in the workshop that takes up one half of the garage, is rather the opposite of how Bond had found Madeleine. He’s crunched up over his work bench, elbow-deep in the guts of something that’s sprouting wires, with his glasses pushed up onto the top of his head and shoving his hair into disarray. But he smiles at Bond when he sees him, purely pleased and relaxed for once, and he’s radiant, a vibrant star that has chosen to shine just on Bond for a moment, and it’s lovely.
All Q ever asks of Bond is that he be straightforward. Present the facts as they are, and Q will deal with them. And so Bond does – they’re cooking dinner and they’d appreciate it if Q would join them. It’s rare they all have the same evening off, and Bond would like it if the three of them could spend it together.
This, Bond feels, takes all the romance out of it, but it seems to be the way to go. Q is intrigued, even as he looks back down at whatever the hell it is he’s disemboweling. Surely they don’t want him to help with dinner, he insists. He likes to cook with other people in the kitchen, but is exceptionally bad at cooking with other people.
They can deal with Q’s terrible inability to share the kitchen for just an evening, Bond teases.
Well. Well – Q doesn’t try much harder to resist, and lets Bond disentangle his glasses from his hair before they join Madeleine in the kitchen, ready to embark on their culinary adventure.
(It turns out to be a little bit of a disaster. Q mutters at the risotto half the time and keeps threatening to take over cooking if Bond won’t stop distracting them. He doesn’t take over, Bond doesn’t stop being distracting, Madeleine ends up overcooking the sauce because of this, and Q looks like he’d dearly like to throw something at Bond for it, but they also shout and tease and laugh and end up piled on the couch with a largely passable meal, made all the better by the fact they made it together.)
(So not actually much of a disaster at all, Bond decides.)
Let’s celebrate all of the fantastic OT3s, OT4s, and OTmores!
Post your Bond OT3+ headcanons!
Your OT3+ fanfic and fanart!
Your OT3+ fanmixes and meta posts!
Rec your favorite Bond OT3+ fancreations!
And anything else you can think of to celebrate Bond fandom’s polyamory ships!
DRABBLES AND DOODLES COUNT. :D Share the polyamorous love, whether it’s 100 words or 1,000 words!
And feel free to draw inspiration from classic!Bond and the books as well as Craig!Bond and, of course, crossovers--all canons and all polyamory ships are welcome!
Reminder: It’s the LAST WEEK of rare pair fest! Get your rare pairs in! :D And remember to tag with mi6cafechallenge so we can find them and reblog them!
20. Any ships which you surprised yourself by liking?
I’m not entirely sure if the answer is plenty or none. Marjorie Smith/Antigone Funn from Wooden Overcoats hit me out of the blue, but I’m pretty casual about that. As a multishipper I kind of accept a constant state of migration. I’ve been more surprised about not shipping pairings than shipping them.
34. What’s the word count on your longest fic?
Published: 50K. Unpublished (and will never see the light of day): 85K.
44. What ship do you feel needs more attention?
I really wish 00QSwann had garnered more of an audience. They had so much potential to be a wholesome OT3 (I mean, it got me into crack and fluff as genres…). Not to mention that it would’ve gotten rid of a lot of hostility from 00Q shippers towards Madeleine Swann as a character. Her and Q are not in competition.
Summary: Q finds the microwave of his dreams, James Bond is unacquainted with modern day kitchen appliances, and Madeleine Swann has never been so happy they keep a fire blanket on the wall. Fluff, Humor
Recced by: Anon
Why it’s awesome: I love this so much. probably the best fic out there for this ot3
Re: art block, if you'd be inspired by headcanons. I've been meaning to write this thing where James, Madeleine, and Q go on vacation and I keep thinking of Madeleine making flowers crowns. Imagine Q in a daffodil crown that ends up leaking sap all over his hair, Madeleine in a huge mess of baby's breath that looks more like a cloud then a crown. James can't stop laughing until Madeleine sticks a single poppy behind his ear and Q is the one to lose his shit. Everyone is happy and warm.
how. come. i. didn’t. get. notification. on. this. omg how long as it been.
this is really really sweet headcanon and so pure. omg i want to draw them in a field of flowers being sappy and laughing and happy.
