#I am in cloud NINE rn

[pearl-blue-musings]

Ship you with Shinsou and Tsukki, obviously

BOTH?!?!?

Cksmsmsoxmdkendowlmskx I love these two so so so so so much xksmallaal

[coquelicoq]

went looking deep in my drafts for my list of favorite french words to pronounce to see if facétieuse was on there and 1) it wasn't, so i had the pleasure of adding it to the list, and 2) i then read one of the words at random and said, aloud, "oh my god" and had to immediately read the rest of the list out loud. insane mouthfeel. i should memorize the list and say it to myself when i get sad. anyway in case you're curious here's the list which i have sort of sorted into categories but don't think about it too hard because several words fit into multiple categories and also i probably missed some possible subgroupings. happy pronouncing~

words that are fun because of repeated vowels bonbon, ensemencement, manquement cocotte cumulus, pulluler raplapla tout fou (two words but one entry in the dictionary) volcanologie

words that are especially fun for me personally because i can't tell the difference between two vowels [ɔ̃] and [ɑ̃]: bombance, compensation, consciencieusement, contentement [ɔ] and [o]: autochtone, octogonaux, rococo, saucissonner

words that are fun because of repeated consonants sibilants: facétieuse, jaugeage, thésauriseuse glides and nasals: millionième, napoléonienne sibilants, glides, and nasal vowels: association, cessation, expiation, fascination, filialisation, glaciation, initiation, prononciation, scintillation, sensation, sentencieusement, vacillation quelconque traîtresse

words that are fun because they're the same thing twice with the last vowel changed clopin-clopant prêchi-prêcha

words that are fun because i love the symmetry of [eifje] déifier dragéifier gazéifier

words that are fun because i really like combos of [ik] or [ki] with optional friends [l] and/or [t] antiquité antithétique cliquetis coquelicot enquiquiner équilibre étiqueter héroïcomique kif-kif mastication pique-nique quiconque quiproquo rhythmique stoïque ticket

words that are fun because [j] a syllable or two after [ɲ] fucks severely champignonnière désignation ignominieux indignation

words that are fun because they're long with a string of alternating vowels and consonants that trips off the tongue antipathie authenticité habitabilité hétérogénéité infériorité parallélépipède territorialité tous azimuts

words that start with fun [p] consonant clusters pneu psittacidés psychédélique psychique

words that just have a certain je ne sais quoi architecture au-delà baby-foot gentilhommière houppe loufoque luxation mnémonique multimédia préalablement qualifier rouflaquettes saperlipopette scout schlinguer tacheter thérapeutique trouillomètre vrombir

[jestroer]

It's my birthday today! :D So hugs and kisses from your friendly robot neighbor!

[bloodiedrogue]

when you find the perfect song for your oc playlist >>>>

[chappellrroan]

when girls compliment you>>>>>>>

[thekidsarentalright]

no official announcement yet but i checked their website and FOB ARE COMING TO SEATTLE AND PORTLAND I AM WINNING SO FUCKING HARD LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOO

[star--anon]

Sorry to brag but I got a 5 in AP Computer Science Principles and a 3 in AP Biology as a ninth grader

I’m on the top of the world rn

[tophthedaydreamer]

IM LOWKEY WEEPING RN THE BEETLEJUICE MUSICAL IS COMING TO MY STATE NEXT YEAR 😭

[whitherwanderyouspirit]

Nothing quite makes the morning like a morning kudos email from Ao3 with a wall of kudos from the same person who clearly binge read your entire works page in one go.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

that was EVERYTHING I WANTEDDDS it was the perfect amount of camp. holy shit itnwas so fun I wanna see it again rn. the MUSIC. THE PRAGTICAL EFFECTS.

[cheolhub]

the desperate servicetop!soobin brainrot is so real rn 😵‍💫

whiney, sloppy, and trying so hard to be everything you need to get off (again and again and again) even after he’s overstimulated himself to keep up with you 😔 stuttering out to ask if you feel good, if he’s doing well ughhhhhh ok imma stop now

SERVICE TOP!SOOBIN

note. i literally blacked out writing this so if it doesn’t make sense, i apologize hehe (it’s short & unedited)

he’d be in you, 3 orgasms deep, just exhausted, but you’re asking for more n more. he’s not sure how you can take anymore when you’ve already released more times than he can count, but you’re begging for it as if your life depended on it, so of course he’s going to provide.

he’s sure his cock is raw by now all thanks to the way your cunt has milked him for all he’s worth, but he’s still going. he’ll keep going forever if that’s something you want. he’d do anything for you.

he can barely speak, tirelessly pumping into you regardless of his exhaustion. he needs you to feel good. needs you to feel like you’re on cloud nine. needs to please you.

you think you’ve broken him— the way he cries and whines and fucks into you so desperately. the way he’s babbling about how good your pussy is, how good you’re making him feel, how beautiful you are, all of his words coming out slurred and nearly incoherent.

“d-do you f— fuck,” he curses when you clench around him involuntarily. he continues, slurring out. “am i doing good, b-baby?”

you look at him as if he hung the stars himself. he’s just so precious with his fucked out face and his voice practically begging for the much needed validation all the while he’s roughly thrusting into your sloppy cunt.

“so good, ‘bin, doing so good, so fucking perfect,” you moan breathily, back arching under him. “gonna cum soon.”

at this, he moans loudly, rutting into you mindlessly. “pretty, so pretty. p-please cum f’me.”

he thinks he’s going to shoot blanks inside you as he feels like he’s been drained of cum, but then you cum. you let go and violently shake under him, crying out his name and gripping his cock for life.

and he can’t stop the way his thrusts become erratic, fucking you through your powerful orgasm till he nearly combusts. he’s cumming, allowing the thinner ropes of release join his previous load in your pussy. he’s whining, tearing up, digging his head in the crook of your sweaty neck to mask his sounds. it doesn’t work. it never does and he’s always just as loud as you.

as you’re coming down, soobin whispers against your skin, voice gone from the intense night you’ve had.

“was that okay?”

you smile, nodding your head weakly. “more than okay, ‘binnie, don’t you worry.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[toast-com]

I am so happy and am on Cloud Nine rn. I'd like to once again thank @bibbysstuff for the wonderful commission!!! She drew my goobers so well, and they look so in love with each other!

[adrift-in-thyme]

I've got so many wips rn and what do I do? Start something new. I'm hopeless. But how am I supposed to resist the chance to write more fairy Time? ;)

CW for blood and injury

----------------------------------------------------------------

He drags himself to the fountain.

The battle would have been difficult for nine heroes. For one — even one as experienced as himself — it had been nearly impossible. A fight hardly even worthy of being called a battle. 

No, Time thinks, grim and dizzy, as he digs his fingers into the dirt and attempts to sit up, it had been a pathetic struggle at best. He had barely escaped with his life. 

The Shadow, it seems, has a vendetta against him. Not that he doesn’t have one toward all of the Links, but…

Time’s efforts land him back on the ground, shuddering as wet coughs tear through him. 

…but it had felt like something beyond his usual distaste for the Heroes of Hyrule. As he had poured monster after monster through those cursed portals, as he had attacked with a sneer on his lips and a glint in his eyes, it had felt personal.

Perhaps, that is not so surprising. 

Wavering, Time grits his teeth. Blood trails down his chin. Its warmth is in stark contrast with the icy chill that has taken root in his bones. 

The Shadow’s sentiments hardly matter right now. It is not as though he could decipher them correctly if he wanted to. 

His thoughts are scattered and panicked, his body failing, his vision going gray. He is mere inches away from salvation, from safety, and his time is running out. 

Another stab of pain imprisons him in its steely grip. A muffled cry breaks through his tightly closed lips. His vision whites out for a moment, before returning fuzzy and distorted. 

Desperately, he reaches out. Trembling fingers slip, slick with blood and monster gore. He collapses with a small splash. 

The effect of the sacred water is instant. A ripple of magic runs through him, warm like a blanket and sweet like the sugar water he offers in hopes of regaining his fairy. In the next second, wings unfold from his back, his body shrinking to fit them.  

He slips fully into the embrace of the shallow waters. 

Time ends up on his side, liquid seeping in through the chinks in his armor and beading upon his wings. He blinks, slow and agonizing, trying to drag himself back to some semblance of awareness. But whatever delirious strength had born him here has fled and taken everything with it.

The water flows around him, glittering and cool. Gently, it soothes his injuries, carefully, it numbs them. But it’s not enough. He knows that now.

This fountain has been weakened. This fountain has no fairies left — save for himself — to imbue it with blessed strength.

No doubt, the monsters have driven them away. He can feel their distress, can imagine their flight, away from here and the encroaching darkness of evil and night.

Time gazes at the surrounding trees. They are mere shadows now, hazy and grayish. Twilight is long gone, bringing with it its brilliant purples and pinks and oranges. Storm clouds cloak the usual speckling of stars and block out the dismal light of the moon.

Not that Time minds that. Without its depressive glare, he feels calmer. 

If he has to fade away, he would rather do so beneath an angry sky, curled in the fountains that have always been his haven, in the form he feels most comfortable in. The form he cannot comprehend, yet treasures all the same. 

The waters turn black with his blood, feathery wisps of it floating out and away from him. He watches it with disinterest. Everything feels far away now. Even his need to survive, to return to Malon. 

He tries to grasp for it, to bring it back to the forefront of his mind. But his efforts are for naught. And what good would it do him anyway? He is too weak to move. He spent his remaining energy on the desperate gamble of stumbling here. Hoping, praying that the magic he felt calling him was still active. Was still alive.

Something rustles in the bushes. A creature, most likely, scampering about, unperturbed by his wavering presence. He is so small now he would be surprised if anyone could see him. Or hear him.  

His blood, however, is another matter altogether. Who knows what beasts have tracked the scent? 

He shifts slightly and a groan slips out before he can stop it. It doesn’t matter though. Whatever horrors seek him cannot measure up to the pain he is already enduring. The Shadow has the power to turn one’s own body against them. No wolf or bear has that ability.  

Something large and dark emerges from the shadowy foliage. Piercing blue eyes glare into his. Time tries to focus on them, tries to decipher their strange familiarity. But the world seems off-kilter, pain turns everything distant. 

I’m sorry, Malon. He thinks as the form moves toward him, looking to his fading eye almost like the clouds that hover above them. I’m sorry that I broke my promise.

And pup…I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.

“Time?” He hears the voice from very, very far away, growled more than spoken, a rumble like thunder before a downpour of rain. It cracks at the end, splintering like his bones when the Shadow had swung his sword too high, too fast for him to evade.

Time wants to drag himself up, wants to comfort this being he is certain he knows. But he lacks the strength to so much as raise a finger. 

And when he is lifted with a gentleness he cannot comprehend, when something soft and warm envelopes him, something that murmurs, “safe” in tones he knows — he doesn’t even attempt to break free.

If this is death, it is wonderful. ---------------------------------

He must lose himself soon after that. Because when he opens his eye it is an act of awakening, surfacing from the unfeeling deep. 

Time stirs, sighing as that same warmth of before embraces him. The pain that had torn him apart has dulled greatly, leaving behind only a ghost of what it once was. And though he isn’t certain why it’s gone — or even if that is a good omen or bad one — he can’t truly bring himself to care. 

He is comfortable here, drifting in this haze of dark, and he doesn’t want to disturb it. It has been so long since he felt like this (perhaps, since the start of the heroes’ journey). It has been so long since he slept, actually slept. 

“Old man?”

Something damp and cool nudges at him. His bed of plush fur (fur? His mind questions blearily) quivers at the movement. 

“Hey, old man. Can you hear me?” 

Time hums, a low sound that grates on his abused throat. 

A sigh of relief. His sanctuary shifts again. 

“Thank Hylia. I thought we’d…I thought…”

Time frowns. There it is again — that voice he knows, usually so strong and joyful, not shattered like broken panes of glass. The voice that ignites something in him, a protective instinct as strong as he feels toward Malon. The voice that reminds him of their love and the miracle that will come of it.

Reluctantly, he drags his eye open. 

At first, he can make out very little. But a few blinks and his vision clears enough that he can see the thick gray fur that surrounds him. He is nestled on Twilight’s back, he realizes, sluggishly, situated so his pup can keep an eye on him, even reach him if he cranes his neck. 

Those crystal blue orbs meet his and there is something broken in them. Time has never seen such emotion in a wolf’s eyes before.

“I thought I’d lost you.” 

He shouldn’t be able to understand that sorrowful growl, and yet, Time can hear the words as clear as day. 

That…is a mystery he will decipher later.

“‘M sorry, pup,” he croaks. His wings flutter gently. “‘M sorry.”

Twilight must have found him lying there in his own blood, hardly clinging to life. To have come upon such a sight…

Guilt wells within him. Time swallows against it.

Twilight shakes his proud head. 

“You can’t scare me like that. I can’t even scold ya like you can me.” He narrows his eyes. “Not that that’s gonna stop me from trying.”

Time huffs an attempt at a laugh. “I don’t…don’t doubt that.” He grows somber once more. He feels unconsciousness tugging at him again. But before he falls, he must at least say this. “You saved me. You shouldn’t-shouldn’t have had to. But I thank you for it.”

Twilight gazes at him for a long moment. “Of course. I love you, old man. Malon loves you. I never would’ve left you there. I never even entertained the thought. So, no thanks are necessary.” He cocks his head. “Although, gotta admit I’m a little sore about the fairy secret.”

Time resists the urge to roll his eyes. “You keep your own transformation a secret. Why…why should I not keep mine?”

“Oh, you can keep it from everyone else if you want. Just not from me.”

“What makes you s-so special?”

“I’m your descendant,” Twilight answers drily. “So, how do you do it? This isn’t an after-effect of what they…what happened to you…is it?”

Time shakes his head. “No,” he murmurs, struggling to stay alert. “I’ve always been able to do this.”

Twilight is silent for a moment. Then, “I came across a stray fairy when I was trying to get you back to camp. She was the one who healed you. She called you a child of the fairies. Not ‘brother’ like Hyrule. Their child.”

Time stares dazedly at the shrubbery surrounding them. They have always called him that. Even Tatl had. But hearing it now, from Twilight, raises new questions. Questions he supposes have always been there, hovering in the back of his mind. But that he has never bothered to ponder. 

The quiet stretches and Time can’t decide how to break it. So, he merely lets it be and snuggles deeper into Twilight’s fur, suddenly immeasurably grateful that his descendant’s secondary form is a wolf.

Powerful and gentle in equal parts. It fits his pup well. 

“But never mind that now,” Twilight says, as though sensing Time’s exhaustion. He sighs. “You need your rest. You comfortable up there, old man?”

Time nods. “Soft,” he mumbles, drowsily. 

Twilight nuzzles him again and humor is in the movement.  

“Good. Go to sleep then. I’ll watch over you.” His tone grows serious, unyielding. “Nothing will touch you while I’m here.”

A slight smile lifts the edges of Time’s mouth, even as a voice cries out within him, protesting this display of weakness, this terrible burden he has put on his descendant. But he is so, so tired. Too tired to rise and be the stalwart leader he knows he should be. 

His wings spread flat upon his back, like a shield. Darkness crowds his vision, numbing his thoughts and weighing down his still-sore limbs. 

“Thank you, pup,” he whispers, with what little strength he has left. 

He is gone before he can hear Twilight’s reply.

[kpopscruggles]

https://x.com/tonnemi/status/1787665444272484670?s=46 Anton Lee came and had to disprove the tummy allegations kinda creaming rn

Stop cause now I wanna ride his abs while he tells me how pretty I am for doing such a thing. He’d be so into it knowing you love his abs and his body in general it would be insane.

Like I just can’t stop thinking about how he’d be on cloud nine, you two praising each other, and every time he just watches your slick cover his abs. Ugh!

Got me ⤵️

[webslingingslasher]

wait i also had this thought a while ago and forgot to send it in.

maybe it’s the anniversary of ben’s death or maybe even tony’s death and peter is just so fucking upset and there’s a rain cloud following him and he just needs support. so he shows up to trouble’s dorm in tears with his head down and just melts into her arms and sobs to her. and maybe this is the first time he’s really gone to her for anything like this and she’s stunned but feels bad for him and does everything she can to support him

i’m emo rn

—🤠

peter’s a busy guy and you understand that.

but he always updates you. he’ll tell you he’s in class, or that he has a free minute around lunchtime, or say he’s got a meeting but free after seven, maybe tell you something came up and he’ll try to see you that night.

it’s unusual for peter to ghost you.

all day long, no matter the form you tried to reach out on, he’s ignored you.

you weren’t that type of person, but you were genuinely worried. it’s out of character for him. you send a text to ethan, it’s a quick message.

‘peter isn’t responding to me, i just want to make sure he’s okay.’

he doesn’t give you much to go off of, ‘he’s okay.’

you let your worry go from a raging boil to a simmer, at the very least he has ethan. and he’s okay.

it was around six when peter knocked on your door, he was hidden beneath a hoodie, he was slumped and small. if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was just dumped.

‘hey, handsome.’

a sniff, ‘hi.’

‘wanna come in?’ he nods, it’s barley noticeable but you move to the side and welcome him in. when you turn back around his hoodies pulled down, you see why he was hiding.

he’s been crying.

the kind of all day crying, the kind where your cheeks are flushed, your eyes red, a snotty yet stuffy nose. his eyes were puffy.

it made your heart break. you’ve never seen peter so vulnerable.

‘what’s-‘

you can’t finish, peter collapsed into your body, wrapping himself tight around you before sobbing into your chest. it makes you lose your breath, you’ve never seen him cry. and it’s ferocious.

he coughs a sob, and you hold him tighter.

‘you’re okay, petey. you’re okay.’

gasps. you try to comb at his hair to settle him.

‘you gotta breathe, baby. i’m right here, okay?’

his sobs rattle you, you’ve never heard him so miserable, so hurt, so sad.

peter speaks in chopped words, he can’t get enough air to fully speak them.

‘my uncle ben died.’ you know he did. maybe it just got to be too much, his grief insurmountable. 'i'm sorry, petey. i'm here.' he sniffled into your shirt, 'no. he died today.'

it's the anniversary, you hold him tighter.

'i am so sorry. i am so, so sorry.'

'can,' peter heaves for air, 'can we lie down?'

you tug him to your bed, wrapping him in your hold, safe from the outside world. doing your best to try and relieve some of his pain.

'it's,' he shudders, 'nine years.'

you dot kisses to his forehead, sometimes, you don't have words to fix things. sometimes, the best and only thing you could do was be there for someone.

peter releases a shaky breath, 'i'm just very sad today.'

you kiss his temple, 'i know. did you talk to may today?' he nods, 'it's a hard day.'

all you can do is hold him to you as long as he needs.

'i know i can't fix it, but i'm not going anywhere.'

your words make peter curl into you further.

[summersreality]

girl i listened to ur advice about manifesting something good when u first wake up and guess what?? i just met somebody in my school whose into manifesting and shifting and they told me they want my number so I can help them out I am on cloud NINE right now omg

OMG SHUT UP???

YAY IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU RN ^^

Having irl shifting/LOA friends is so fun TRUST