this was awfully hard to colour

Bonding Time

Here, have the first part of a James Bond/Tony Stark xover. Because I want an xover of those two and because today is my birthday, so I get what I want even if I have to write it myself.

Enjoy!


Summary: Double-O Agent James Bond meets Tony Stark. It goes exactly as well as Fury feared it would go.

Or Five Times Tony accidentally gets involved in a secret mission, and the one time he does it entirely on purpose.

*

Part I Bond

Tony wasn’t pouting. He was not.

“Quit your pouting and move your fucking ass!” The guy behind him snarled (very impolitely), and pressed the gun harder into Tony’s back.

While uncomfortable, the loudly implied threat did not keep Tony from dragging his feet. For one Guy-With-Terrible-Breath hadn’t immediately shot him, which implied he had an interest in keeping Tony alive. For the time being at least. For another Tony was too busy mentally ranting to pay the guy much attention.

Because seriously, this entire situation was ridiculous. He was on vacation, for fuck’s sake. That in itself was rare enough an occurrence—no matter how often Obadiah insisted that he was young still, only twenty-three, and should be out, enjoying himself, Tony had never been very good at staying out of his own business.

It had taken Obadiah five months to convince Tony that Stark Industries wasn’t going to fall apart if he took a break on some tiny island near Spain. Too much like his father, Obadiah had grumbled, which had of course been the deciding factor in Tony agreeing to take his long put-off mandatory leave.

(He doesn’t mind vacations, just to clarify. He enjoys the partying and drinks just fine, thank you very much. It’s the lying in the sand all day sleeping and chilling that gets to him. Tony isn’t very good at turning his mind off and living in the moment. He needs puzzles to solve, patterns to predict, explosives to make boom. He needs to calculate and built, needs to keep his mind buzzing, and vacations—complete with being banned from disappearing into the workshop or talking business with his favourite engineers—don’t offer that.)

The second reason why Tony was in such a foul mood was that he had been responsible. He’d carefully chosen his destination, run some pretty background checks on his hotel, other residents, the usual. He’d complied with all of Obadiah’s pointless, overboard security precautions. Just once in his life Tony had taken things serious—like everyone seemed to insist he should—and he had gotten kidnapped for his troubles.

That settled it then. He was never going to listen to Obadiah ever again.

[more under the cut]

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Common Ground

Summary: As the dirt walls of his half-dug foxhole collapse in front of him, Officer Cadet Daniel Howell finds himself face-to-face with another soldier. To make matters worse, this one is wearing a German uniform.

Or:

In which Dan and Phil have a rather unorthodox meeting when their foxholes collide.

A/N: this fic (code name: craig) is an idea i’ve had for quite a while, maybe years, and here it is! finally… always good with some historical aus amiright?? i really really like it and i hope you will too (please i need love) also thanks to bethany for writing in the boob-hand-motion. i guess you’ll have to read it to laugh with us lmao

Genre: Historical (WWI), fluff, humour-ish.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, war themes.
Words: 2371

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I felt like reviving my mermen! rusprus AU that I never managed to finish, and when I see my previous sketches, I’m happy I didn’t finish them  then. 

I really regreted choosing this type of merman for Ivan, tentacles are awfully hard to draw ! but on the other hand I have several reasons to make him an octopus, one on them being that octopus are awesome. I’m not going to say everything about this AU (because it would be too long), but here’s some things :

  • Gilbert is a prince, and Ivan is an outcast, and seemingly the last of his species
  • Gilbert can turn into an human, which makes him part of the dominant/royal race, because he can totally live on earth
  • Ivan is a blue ringed octopus, who is toxic for humans, and he can change to several colours, including black and stripped
  • Ivan’s fave food is crabs, as Gilbert quickly understood it :

On a technical note, it’s one of the first time I do a drawing with black outlines. Excepted for some details… I just liked the lineart, and I started to colour it without colouring the lines, and I liked how it turned out…so… 
Also, the background is kinda empty, but I prefered to work more on te ambiance of the drawing (it’s the first time I draw an underwater scener)…

Well, I hope you’ll like it…

Gift

Character: Newt (The maze runner)

Rating:  K+

Words: 1020

Summary/ Request:  Something mysterious shows up in (y/n)’s room

The sun shone light a spotlight as you entered your room one day after a long day of work. Normally this was just due to the restricted size of the single window, but today it felt different. Someone had definitely been in here. The sheets on your rickety bed had been straightened and the few items of clothing that you owned which normally lay strewn across the floor were folded and in a neat pile in one of the many corners of your odd shaped view.

Again your eyes were drawn to your bed where the square of light fell as if this was a guiding force, in the centre of this was a box. A crudely made box carved out of wood, but still this would have taken hours to make. How nice for someone to give you such a present. Picking the box up to examine the craftsmanship you heard a dull sound from inside. Lifting the lid you were shocked to find another handmade gift. A leather necklace with some lime green wooden beads strung on, your favourite colour, lay in a pillow of sheep’s wool. And you thought the box was a big effort. Thinking back, this necklace was probably the present but who would make you this? Who had the energy after a hard day in the glade to sit down and create such intricately beautiful things? Again who would do this for you? However it was you had to find them to thank them, they obviously cared for you and you wanted the opportunity to care for them back.

To avoid an embarrassing event of not noticing an obvious note, you scoured the surface of the box as well as your whole room but, no note. No name. No evidence.

But wait, you had clues from the gift itself.

It had to be someone with at least some free time, so I excluding the runners. They would have to be neat, hence the room tidying, that meant it definitely wasn’t a slicer. Good with their hands - no slicers could have done this, they could barely cut anything without injuring themselves. Gally and his crew still seemed adverse to you neither did the followers have the brain cells to do such a thing. That still left at least 15 boys. This was one of her Hercules’ labours to find the right boy.

You picked the necklace up spinning the beads in your fingers, the green paint reflecting in the sunlight. With that a thought came to your mind, nobody who didn’t know you that well would along the beads this colour, it was probably awfully hard to make so even more effort would have been put into that. Okay so one of your closest friends. Well this was unexpected.

Clint and Jeff would be a no.

Many of the others had already been removed from the equation. Alby? No. It couldn’t be. He was a big brother too you. He just wasn’t the sort of person for this.

That only left … Newt. Oh. Newt.

This was great. Or was it? Someone you actually cared about. Great. How did you not realise this.  Was it just a gift of friendship? No, he wouldn’t put that much effort into engraving the delicate patterns on the beads. But now left the question; what to do about it? Say thanks? But do much work had been put into making all of this. That would be way to little, it wouldn’t be appreciative of his hard work. In a clichéd sense your heart was in your mouth and you felt a bit woozy.  Well Newt would definitely be the sort of romantic  person to do this, he did seemed to get irked by the state of your room also he definitely possessed the fine skills to create the elaborate jewellery in your hands as well as having the strength to carve the shoebox sized case it came in.

“(y/n) stop being a slinthead and go talk to …Newt” you said to your self- aloud.

Walking out of the homestead and towards the kitchen where you knew meet would be trying to get dinner early. Against physics your heart now felt like it had flown out of your body completely and was sitting on the opposite side of the glade. Coincidentally where Newt was.

Your confidence waned as you crossed the field almost to the point of turning back. What if it wasn’t newt who gave it to you? How will the real creator react? How will Newt react? How did newt want this to go down? Too many questions attacked your consciousness.

You reached the benches and slid in next to solitary newt, his hair shone in the evening sun as if it was emitting its own light. He was god like. You hadn’t really thought about this, but in the minutes since you had sussed the giver of your gift you had realised newts many perfections. His soft face and defined muscles. The way he would rub his lip when he was thinking. How caring he was and, ohhh, his shucking angelic smile.

“Hey” he said in his honey voice

Lost in your daydreams you just sighed before covering up your mistake

“Can you do this up for me?” you asked with a smirk, trying to convey that you knew.

He took the necklace from your outstretched hand, brushing the hair from your neck before tying it at the back. Then as if something from a movie, he brushed his lips against your neck.

“You’re so clever” he whispered in your ear.

“No, I just know you too well” you replied into his mouth before colliding your lips together.

The two of you were unquestionably compatible, your kiss left you breathless but wanting more of him. As you kissed his hands slid from your neck to your lower back.

In a break to breath you added “Thanks for the necklace by the way…”

Newt chuckled into your neck and replied a breathless “My pleasure” before returning to caress your face.

Red

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Dan’s hair colour is hardly ever affected by his every morning trip to Starbucks, but it’s not until a boy with hair as pink as his cheeks starts to come regularly that Dan realises his emotions are stronger than he thinks.

Based off this post x

Dan always liked his morning coffee. He liked going to the Starbucks just around the corner from his house and simply spending half an hour sitting and watching the people’s colours around him while he sipped something to keep him warm. England in the middle of winter wasn’t the easiest to endure without a little heat.

Today was different when he walked in. Usually- as this was his normal routine- his hair would always stay it’s natural colour, a muddy brown he honestly hated.

Except when he sat down with his order, something was different; a boy with light pink hair and burning blue eyes was staring at him from a table in the corner.

And he was cute.

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How to Hold a Torch 7

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 |

Chapter 7

‘Son,’ his father told him later that day, as he walked out the door. ‘There are only two fears a man is allowed to have on Berk. Fear of the gods, and fear of Hofferson women. Ye mind yourself, while you’re out there. Take a sword with you.’

And that was how he ended up headed towards Astrid’s place, a sword clinking in his belt, smelling of wild flowers from his bath. Knowing he had skipped yesterday, and that he was going to visit Astrid, he’d perhaps put too many little violets in the water.

Thankfully Snotlout and the others had left. He’d never live it down if they smelt him right now.

He took a deep breath when he knocked on the front door. Stormfly peeked her head around the side, squawking a greeting and ruffling her wings, but Toothless came up to her and saved him a possible loving mauling by racing off into the dirt yard behind the Hofferson hall, enticing the nadder into a game of tag.

I wasn’t long before Astrid’s aunt Gerta opened the door for him. He stood up straighter, resisting the urge to clear his throat.

‘Ma’am,’ he said formally. ‘I’ve come-’

‘To see Astrid. Aye, good that you showed up. Brought her a gift, too.’ She nodded towards the sword, clearly approving.

Hiccup grinned; he’d been half-contemplating it himself, but what better way to get back at his dad than to give Astrid the sword? It would look lovely on her wall and in her hands anyway.

‘I hope she’ll like it,’ he confirmed, grinning wider as he pat it.

‘As long as it’s the only sword of yours that comes out of those trousers today, I’ve no issue with it.’

He felt his grin drop and his cheeks burn.

‘I - what - oh…’

The formidable woman, dressed in armour similar to Astrid’s, burst into a belly laugh.

‘Oh my boy, you’re smart as a button and about as easy to tease.’

Hiccup blushed even harder when she pinched his cheek. She hadn’t done it since he was 6 and had come to her with a scraped knee and an apple as payment for the ointment. He was so glad Snotlout wasn’t here.

‘Now go on upstairs. Don’t want to keep you from our girl. She’d skin me alive.’ She cackled and moved towards the pile of firewood, wood-axe at the ready. He retreated into the house quickly. ‘Haddock?’ He winced and paused, looking back. ‘I meant it about the sword-’ he tried not to blush, ‘- but only until she’s better, aye? All bets are off after that.’ And he failed. She only laughed again and winked at him, sending him scrambling inside.

Sigrid and Hild were by the hearth, toasting nuts on the fire and pouring preserve into pots for sealing.

‘Ah, there he is!’ Sigrid said. ‘Astrid’s upstairs in her room dear, go on up.’

‘Nice sword,’ Hild muttered, wriggling one brow upwards. He escaped up the hewn steps before he could make a fool of himself anymore than his cheeks were already doing for him. The women’s chortles followed him up like a shadow.

He knocked, waiting a respectable few minutes, but when no reply came, he quietly peeked around the thin wooden screen. Astrid was in bed, and he almost backed out of the room right away when he noticed that she was in her night clothes. The women laughed downstairs, and Astrid on the bed groaned.

‘Close the door, mum,’ she mumbled, voice hoarse. Hiccup winced.

‘Sorry, I’ll- I’ll come later…’

‘Hiccup?’ He paused in the act of retreating as she turned, slapping hair out of her face as she raised her head up. Hiccup stepped back into the room, feeling rather sheepish until she smiled at him. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey,’ he murmured back, stepping in and closing the door. He walked across the room as quietly as he could, taking a seat on a trunk beside her bed. She tried to sit up and groaned again, Hiccup quickly helping her to lean against the head rest. ‘Shouldn’t you lie down?’

‘Been there all day,’ she muttered, and smiled at him. Even with puffy eyes and a red nose, it was the prettiest smile he’d ever seen.

‘Sorry you got ill,’ he shrugged awkwardly. ‘It was probably dad’s fault… and a little mine.’ He scratched the back of his head, utterly lost and uncomfortable as he tried to think of what to say. Everything he’d thought up on the way had somehow evaporated now that he was sitting here. In his agitation, he shifted, and the sword at his belt clinked against the wooden box he sat on. ‘Oh! right, I brought you this?’

Astrid blinked, taking up the sword. ‘Isn’t this the chiefs’?’ She handled it with her usual aplomb, looking down the line of the blade with one eyes and smirking at the intricate hilt.

Aw Gobber’s month old britches, ‘Sort of. He gave it to me, and I’d rather you had it.’ She puckered her lips at him and nodded with narrowed eyes, aiming to tease him. Her only success was looking adorable, and he was sorely pressed to lean in and kiss her. Should he? Could he? She’d sort of indicated that she would like that, so he should?

Before he did, he took a deep breath and reached into his pocket, pulling out a flask and presenting it to her.

‘This is my favourite thing, when I have a cold,’ he shrugged again, feeling very strange to openly giving her gifts now as more than friends? They were more now right? ‘It’s wine with spices in it, and lots of honey. It helps with the cough.’ Astrid opening it, taking a sniff. Her eyebrows rose rather high.

‘This smells strong…’

‘It is, a little,’ he admitted, taking a cup by her bed. ‘Here, see if you like it.’ He offered the wooden cup and she poured some into it, taking a small sip at first, then a larger one when the taste hit her tongue.

‘This is really good,’ she muttered, and he smiled in relief. She took a larger gulp, and added a bit more to her cup before she closed the flask again.

‘It helps me sleep, too, when I’m too blocked up to drift off.’ She smiled cautiously, and sipped on, her hair toppling over her face as she shifted. ‘Here, let me - er…’ he froze, one hand lifting locks of hair off her face. Both of them looked startled before he hastily pushed it behind her ear and quickly sat up straighter, sitting on his offending appendage.

‘Thanks,’ she croaked, sinking slightly into the bed and raising her covers. It was hard not to think of it as a sanction for his handsiness, but then he realised that she was shivering. Glancing around, he noticed a shawl in a heap next to his foot, and he picked it up.

‘You’re being awfully nice, today?’ she muttered again, her crooked smile making it teasing.

‘Well I…’ he got stuck, thinking this girl, I’m engaged to her over and over, feeling alternately terrified and elated. He ducked his head. ‘I thought you wouldn’t mind.’

‘I don’t!’ she said quickly. He looked up, and some colour had leaked into her face. He wasn’t sure it was from the wine, even if she’d buried her face in the cup. Courageously, and hoping he was not going to lose a few fingers, he took the hand that still rested on the covers between his.

‘I hoped you wouldn’t,’ he said, not quote able to meet her eyes. Her knees were very pretty anyway. Smiling when her fingers curled around his, he went on, heart pounding shakily but hopeful. ‘Astrid?’

‘Hmm.’

‘What would you think about being … more than friends?’ He swallowed. He’d ask her about being engaged… eventually. Or maybe he’d point her at her mother and then tell her. At least, if his question had a positive answer today, which he really hoped for.

‘Hmm, of course,’ she said. He dared to look up at her, and she was giving him a really mellow smile. ‘I thought we’d settled that.’

‘Yeah,’ he grinned helplessly, and her smile widened. His chest began to flutter happily. ‘Yeah, just making sure.’

‘Sure,’ she replied, then she shivered, grabbing the shawl tighter around her, and sneezed. ‘Sorry.’

‘No, not at all.’ Her fingers, he noticed, were utterly freezing, so he rubbed them to try to get the blood flowing. Astrid blinked at him, considering, and then grabbed his hand harder and tugged. ‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘Come here?’ she asked, her voice breaking. She gave a cough, but she seemed to settle right away. The shivering, however, didn’t abate. Hiccup moved closer, but she shook her head. ‘Please, I’m really feeling cold, and you’re so warm.’

Blushing to the roots of his hair, Hiccup realised she was asking him to lie down with her. The beseeching look she was giving him robbed him of any protest, and he started to bid silent goodbye to all his manly bits as soon as he sighed and nodded, trying to manouver himself onto her bed without letting her hand go. Eventually, Astrid solved it by grabbing his other hand and pulling him down to lie behind her, giving a happy sigh that speared him right in the chest as she settled her head on his bicep.

‘Just promise you won’t punch me too hard tomorrow, when you wake up and don’t remember asking me, ok?’

‘In that case, I won’t remember promising either,’ she chuckled back weakly. ‘You’re so warm,’ she muttered, voice slurred and hoarse.

‘That’s it, I’m doomed,’ he replied, and she smiled. Carefully, he put his arm around her covered body, and she only snuggled into him further.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

‘Any time,’ he replied, and feeling especially bold, he dropped a kiss on his hair. Her answering peck on his arm made him smile like a madman.

It wasn’t long before she drifted off, though she kept shivering occasionally. He eventually followed her after her shudders lessened, and his breath on her nape made her smile in her sleep.

Algy felt that perhaps he would like to take a wee break from trying to pack damp sand into a flowerpot, as it seemed to be awfully hard work. So he decided to survey the headland for the best spot to build his sandcastle. There was one very small and private beach which he loved especially, and as it was such a lovely sunny day, and the colours of the sea were so beautiful, he felt that maybe he should survey this beach particularly carefully – from the viewpoint of a comfortable perch on a sun-warmed rock…

kai || when he gives her a silent treatment after a fight


Author’s Note

Thank you requesting! ♥ Feel free to request again!
God. Am I the only who thinks that this new version of Tumblr is such a nuisance?

Kai ft. OC/Han Yeonju

It had been over a day since Yeonju and Kai fought, and still, they weren’t talking to each other. Well, to be specific, Kai wouldn’t talk to her. She had been the first one to apologize to him, but Kai never turned to look at her or even articulating a forgiving word to her. And that infuriated her a lot.

Yeonju was sitting in the soft beige couch, the television was playing her current favourite drama and although her eyes were focusing on the screen, her mind was elsewhere, thus, she couldn’t understand what she was watching in the first place.

Kai had been walking pass the opened entrance of the living room for several times now but he was neither looking at her or speaking to her. It annoyed her after she guessed he was doing that on purpose to punish her for what seemed to be her fault.

Yesterday morning, Kai had found a script book from underneath the pillow of their Queen-sized bed. Being the rookie actress, Kai knew the script belonged to his long-time girlfriend and cohabit. Feeling both curious and interested to know what role she was going to portray, he had read the content from A to Z.

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