all done in pastels!

from the moon, to the stars
while lingering in the universe
we got to know each other

— nuest (minhyun + jr) “daybreak” // a present for @trashanon  [insp.]

hnnng

THAT FUCKING VIDEO IM CRYING MY CHILDREN HOW SOFT AND PURE.

notes:

• DAN IN A PASTEL SWEATER AND DUNGAREES END ME.
• HOW PHIL IS INFATUATED WITH DAN’S LITTLE CURL IM-
• “strap me up” ASDFGHJKL.
• CAN WE TALK ABOUT DAN AND HIS LOWKEY *cough* bottom ass *cough* HIP THRUSTY THING WHILE PUTTING ON THE DUNGAREES AHH.
• “i feel like i want to just do soft things” ;)
• UM WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE WAY DAN LOOKED AT PHIL WHEN HE PULLED HIS TROUSERS DOWN LIKE ??
• “aw dan you look so soft” BECAUSE HE IS YOU SPORKTULA
• “wow look at that meaty bicep, phil”
• THE NECK TATTOO AND HOW CAREFUL PHIL IS UGH STOP.
• “penis, penis tattoo”
• two words, people. chest. touching.
• “curly dan is here to stay”
• “i’ve embraced the wavy hair”

okay that’s all im done

2

The peach bean Sriracha. What do you mean that’s not her name? That’s totally her name.

Now on my Society6 and Redbubble!

howardlinkedin  asked:

Kanda wants fuck you flowers, while Link can whip up a very delicious "sorry you're unlikeable" frosted cake.

Oh my God, I love it. Why do I love it.

I’m imagining ‘Sorry You’re Unlikeable’ written in the prettiest cursive writing, probably in a soft pastel purple on a white cake and all done up like a perfect condolences cake.

@hurryupfic would you like some Kanda/Link?

Scout drabble (Anon Request)

Its christmas and the few mercs that have family missing them have recieved gifts in the mail. Scout rips open his to find a giant puffy sweater. The others laugh a little at how poory it was made; the cords hardly holding together and little strings dangling back and forth from the bottom. But scout wore it anyway. Every year, or when it was just getting cold Scout would get a sweater from home, it sort of became a game guessing what obnoxious color and how bad it would be. Scout never commented on it. And then came the day when their tours of duty for Mann Co were over. They were all waiting at the train station for bus that would drive them home or to the next step in their journey. When the bus reached Boston there was an older woman with black hair and a blue dress waiting all alone. Scout rushed his goodbyes and clambered of the bus. The woman raised her hands to greet her boy and the mercs saw her hands. The joints bloated and hard, fingers cemented into painful claws. She was unable to even grasp his coat when she embrased him. The Medic, though now his name wasn’t Medic anymore it was just Joseph, commented on how crippling the arthritis in her hands was, that she probably couldn’t even turn a door handle without extream pain. Scouts sweaters didnt seen so silly anymore.

The next Christmas, the first christmas in almost a decade for Scout, without Mann Co. And Scout was having trouble adjusting to the peace and quiet. Not to say his family was peaceful at all, but there was a lack of rocket launchers present that he couldnt help notice. The door bell rang, and one of his brothers answered. Scout didnt see who was making deliverys on christmas but when his brother returned he was holding 9 packages, all addresed to his mother. Scout sat next to her and helped pull the paper off. In the cold season her hands were always more painful. One by one, sweaters were revealed. Some were hardly put together, others were rather well done. They were all in pretty feminine pastels, just like how his mom liked. It was no mystery to Scout who they were from, but why they were here he had no clue.

The last gift was a well packaged box. Filled with sowing needles and high quality yarn and wool. And a smaller box filled with jars of lotion, about 10lbs of it. And a letter in Medic… Josephs scribble:

‘Keep out Scout warm for us.’

Scout opened on of the jars and a familiar tingle went over his hand. Everyday they appied a small amount onto his mothers hands, within a week the arthritis was gone. They kept going. And when the next Christmas came, under the trees and fireplaces of the 8 other mercenaries there was at least one present, mailed from Boston, about the size of a obnoxiously puffy sweater.