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kirby-the-gorb · 8 months

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reply roundup!

I guess vaguely once a month is just how these things work now, I do try to read everyone's tags and replies and stuff but a lot of them I just don't really have anything to reply with sorry! as always I appreciate the supportive words and well wishes and stuff <3

I also love the trifurcation of responses to [go to bed]: one group of people is like "yeah u right I sleep now thanks", one is like "sorry but I can't", and one is just like "no! I refuse!!!" lol

I did get two different "posts that have 10k to me" tags though, on [one] that actually passed 10k and [another] that is still barely triple digits and will probably stay there XD

anyway [chess kirb] was on the radar which is neat

also my birthday is this weekend :)

oh yeah and reminder that I also have a craft blog @sleepy-princess-craftery

on [the last roundup] @sacrasm said: oh the clonk'd is just my queued post tag! thr other one is self explanatory he is little he is pink and i affectionately call things freak sometimes (in combination with other words)

ohhhh that makes sense lol it was the clonk'd that I was baffled by thank you for explaining -u-

on [drowsy] @ceylonsilvergirl said: being laid up sick or injured is terrible, but I think we also need to acknowledge that it’s also boring as hell. can’t do anything fun. boring boring boring

it is!!! it's so boring!!! especially since I'm already baseline sick all the time so I have less options to start with, so to do even less than that is literally nothing!

anonymous asked: Gwah being sick sucks. I wish immune system upon you!

thank you! (I think I actually need less immune system? on account of the immune disorder. but either way I do not have an active infection anymore 👍)

on [tumble] @chefwhatnot said: get chucked idiot

where's that post like "'get (blank)ed idiot' is the funniest joke" cuz they're right

on [mask] @macro-microcosm said: glad you're feeling better! i agree that we should all still be masking up, it bothers me soooo much to see that so many people have stopped

like honestly, scientifically speaking it is way more effective and more accessible than just leaning on vaccines, and it protects people from all kinds of stuff not just covid! but nobody wants to wear masks and even people who think they're being cautious just want to lean on vaccine requirements, which is doubly inaccessible for me personally and probably millions of other people :( stresses me out too.

anonymous asked: Magicking you up some new containers

thanks! they didn't have what I wanted at target but we got some usable stuff from daiso, so at least it's not all still shoved in a ziploc bag.

@thewizardgnome asked: But what if I say bye

I mean yeah you can do that too if you want I guess lol

on [paper] @breathelifeintothatsoul said: Cool! I've always wanted to try and make my own (recycled) paper one time

it's fun! there's a lot of extra steps you can add in if you want to, but the absolute basics of it is just dump a bunch of paper strips into a bin, fill it with water, wait until it breaks up enough for your liking, then dunk some kind of stiff screen into it (horizontally) so you can pull out even layers of pulp to dry somewhere.

on [paper] @hermitfox said: oooo making your own paper is do much fun, I have fond memories from kindergarten doing that. ... actually what stops me from doing that as an adult. I should make paper again

do recommend, making things is fun and also good for you :) also the paper pulp is very Texture (affectionate) (to me) (I'm sure to others it can be very Texture (derogatory) but I like it)

on [yarn] @ceylonsilvergirl said: I am very envy of people who can follow a pattern, I can’t do that. I can do a friend being like “Oh this next one is two one two one’’, i can’t translate abbreviations into an idea in my mind. give me a diagram instead

I'm the opposite tbh, I find the abbreviations really easy to follow but looking at a diagram for knitting and crochet just turns into like, visual noise if it's more complex than like, a single fan stitch or whatever.

@my-life-is-a-bad-sitcom asked: You’re Kirby’s are so cool and I love your art style. Honestly awesome. Giving you a standing ovation. 👍

thank you! I love to draw a little guy

anonymous asked: I saw you on tumblr radar just now!! congrats!! -@secondbeatsongs

woah thanks sbs!

@darkchaogarden-blog asked: Tumblr's doing that dumb thing it's been doing lately where I can't reblog anything, so I'll just write to you personally that your art is excellent! Have a good day!

that sounds like such an irritating bug but thank you! I hope you had a good day too whenever this was :)

on [chess] @shiinteractsif said: dudes at the search thingy image. congrats

oh cool I wondered where the radar posts showed up on mobile!

on [chair] @mads-is-tired said: i’ve never played a kirby game but i desperately want to BECAUSE LOOK AT HIM

honestly so valid, he's basically a character brand to me (like hello kitty or rilakkuma). I'm probably biased, but I feel like the best games to start with are either forgotten land (the one that came out on switch last year) or crystal shards (originally for the n64, also available through the nintendo online vc). I think they're the most visually appealing (aside from epic yarn which is not a mainline game) and while they reward exploration they're not as complex as some of the handheld titles to fully explore, nor are they as hand-holdy as some of the other console titles. a good middle ground of feeling like you did the thing, without being frustrating.

on [soup] @give-soup-please said: ME #soupblogging #fucking same

how delightful that this post managed to find you :) these tags make me happy whenever I think of them

on [soup] @lord-chiopet said: me too bud. you too op hope the weather approved

good news, the weather has improved :) now it is overcast and drizzly, my favorite!

on [chess] @wealmostaneckbeard said: Neither of them know how to play so they made up some rules...

what a cute idea! I hope they are having fun with their new game.

on [baseball] @hutbug said: the teal color is called northwest green and we still wear it all the time!! its beautiful u did an amazing job

thank you for the info! before this season I hadn't really had access to baseball for the past like 8 years or something and a lot has changed lol so I didn't really trust my memory

on [blue] @ceylonsilvergirl [added] "I CAN TRY AGAIN TOMORROW! Or next week! or next month..."

that really is the vibe lately huh.

anonymous asked: Your kirbys bring me daily serotonin

aww good!

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wrenandthemachine · 13 days

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More @callsign:Bova on tiktok and an oc called Verona

#verona #callsignbova #cod #cod oc art #verona is mine #bova is not #injury #wounded #sacrasm

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purpleflamingobread · 1 year

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a friend was the ideas-man, if only I had more ideas, man. I'm just an artist with no ideas, if only people would commission me for free.

#genshin impact #is this a meme #is this a pidgeon #meme #message from this world #pfb #aether #traveler #genshin aether #aether genshin impact #genshi impac #genshi impact #genjin impass #genji impass #sacrasm #one liners #quotes #inspirational

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milestoearth · 19 days

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This book is genius. A must

#How to kill your family #Bella Mackie #Books #Sacrasm #Black humor #Funny #Dark

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nari-writes · 6 months

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Lines in my own fic I still think are funny:

"You call me Drake because you're a transphobic little shit!"

"I do not!" Damian says, appalled despite himself.

#batfam #fic ideas i probably won't write #tim and damian are brothers your honour but they don't get along!!!! it's hard!!!#damian is quite accurately a little shit that does not know how to communicate with literal sacrasm + Perfect Socialite tim!!!!#tim does not know how to be nice to tiny cult-raised assassin who tried to kill him because tim holds grudges like a MOTHERFUCKER #anyway this is a. tim is trans but hasn't picked a name yet <- writing the whole fic without referring to him as tim is HELL but it's also #dami's pov with makes it easier #+ league of assassins: bro your gender does not define how well you do Murder wtf #tim: your grandpa.....is not transphobic?#damian: he is however still a murderous cult-leader who enjoys brainwashing and cultural genocide. let's not provide too many points for+#one singular act of decency #in context of this fic tho. tim: you're transphobic!#dami: shocked pikachu.jpg #but also. tim: you call me drake because you're transphobic!#damian: i call you drake cause you SUCK

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sugajimin · 1 year

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I ll say that gr*mmys were scared to give coldplay the award this year because they know Chris won't keep his mouth closed

#he would shade them and the whole industry..as far as i know him he is being really vocal about his opinions #and he knows what words to use without disrespecting anyone #at least thats what i ve seen #just now i saw he results skndks i wasn't even surprised like i was ..okay good #but i want to sacrasm a little #also Beyonce losing was a shock and disappointment... the grammys every year are worse and worse

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writing-good-vibes · 1 year

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loving you is like loving the dead (or fucking the dead)

y'all are going to hate me for this one 😈 corey has a sick little fantasy he wants to play out with michael.

big, big, big WARNING this time readers, for corey x michael, smut, age gap relationship (though it's not brought up), psuedo-necrophilia (no one is actually dead), autonecrophilia (again, no one is dead), ice baths, slightly unsafe kink practices (because corey has no idea what he's doing), heavy mentions of suicide and past suicidal ideation. dead dove; do not eat.

divider by @/firefly-graphics.

“I wanna try something,” Corey says, keeping his eyes on the outdated TV set at the foot of the motel bed while it crackles with static; a fierce wind outside meddling with the reception.

They’d been on the road for a few days, sleeping in the truck on the side of the road when they had to, and never for long. Lucky for them, there was only one attendant at the last gas station they stopped at, and it wasn’t difficult to clear out the till. Corey found he could be rather persuasive these days, particularly with Michael’s fear-inducing presence close by. Even without the mask – or, perhaps, especially without the mask, Michael was a cutting figure. The kind of man people trip over themselves to avoid. Either way, they had enough cash for a night in a motel, maybe even two if they found somewhere cheap enough.

Michael, doesn’t say anything, but his head tilts minutely in Corey’s direction from where he had been focused on the staticky TV screen, showing his apparent attention.

“Like…” Corey thinks of how to word it in a way Michael will understand. “Like play-pretend.”

Once again, no response, but he knows Michael is listening. He leans up on his elbows from where he was reclined beside the older man. “Play-pretend where you’re the killer, and I get to be the corpse.”

Corey had thought a lot about being dead. After the accident, they’d put him on anti-anxiety meds. His psychiatrist said he wasn’t coping. There’s talk of adding antidepressants to his prescription, but when he doesn’t talk much in his sessions, they’re worried it’ll do more harm than good. He overhears his psychiatrist telling Momma to keep an eye on him. Six months later and momma had got sick of all this psychology talk – “You’re fine, Corey. These doctors, they don’t know what they’re talking about, trying to dose you up with God-knows-what and putting silly ideas in your head. It’s hurting you, Corey. Now, listen to your mother, I know what’s best for you.” – and stopped paying for his refills.

He'd stopped taking them anyway, leaving the half-full orange pill bottle to gather dust at the back of the bathroom cabinet. They’d never helped his nerves, even when things were at their worst. Besides the therapy appointments, he didn’t leave the house for months. Not with the way people stared at him, the way they shouted at him across parking lots and while he waited in line with Momma at the grocery store. She warded most of them off, but it didn’t change anything. The acquittal had stopped him going to jail, but he was already damned.

The first time he went back to the Allen house was on Halloween. The surviving Allens had abandoned it after the trial; Corey wasn’t sure where they’d moved to, but he somehow knew they were still in Haddonfield. It had been a whole year since Jeremy had died and nothing had changed, Corey’s blood pumped through his veins so harshly he could hear it in his ears, just like he had that night. The house is empty, stripped of everything bar the piano in the front room and some clothes hangers in the closets. Corey checked every room, he didn’t know what for, until he got to the attic. That was the first time he tried.

By no means the first time he’d thought about it, though. No, he’d been thinking about it. He’d spent a disturbing amount of time thinking about it. But as he climbed over the railing, looking between his sneakers at the long drop and sudden stop, he really thinks he could do it. He thinks about it for a long time, but his fingers never loosen their grip on the banister and his feet stay planted between the spindles.

It happens more often than Corey knows is normal. He goes to the Allen house and climbs over the third-floor railing and looks down. He wonders how many times it’ll take until one day he just lets go. Not that it matters, he thinks. Falling would just be the final nail in the coffin; he feels as good as dead already. A cold, empty body in a cold, empty house.

When he gets home afterwards, he always uses the back door. He has every creaky floorboard memorised, and he’s almost silent as he passes Momma and Ronald’s room. She never even notices he’s missing; he knows she doesn’t because if she did there’d be bars on his windows and a new lock on the back door before he even woke up in the morning.

That all seems so long ago. These days, he’s never felt more alive. The longing he once had has been replaced with a sick curiosity to have just a taste of what he had wanted so badly back then.

Corey shivers as soon as he steps into the tub, full to the brim with cold water and ice that he had to run out to the icebox for.

Michael watches from the bathroom doorway, arms relaxed by his sides, as though Corey trying to freeze himself into a corpse is nothing out of the ordinary.

The shower curtain isn’t pulled over, and displaced water and chunks of ice spill over the side of the bath, splashing and skidding across the cracked tile floor when Corey lowers himself into the makeshift ice bath, wincing when his balls tighten as he submerges himself. Corey sinks down further, up to his shoulders and a shocked gasp leaves him, making it sound like he’s been winded. His muscles start to spasm as his body tries to maintain its own heat.

There’s a cup of ice sweating away on the counter next to the sink. Corey tips some into his mouth and rolls it around with his tongue, pressing another ice cube to his lips until it hurts, then keeps it there longer still.

He doesn’t think it’ll work but he props a leg up on the edge of the tub and shoves an ice cube up himself. He’s already slick with Vaseline, having prepped himself in bed while Michael sat and watched Jeopardy. Now the ice surrounding him was nothing compared to how cold his fucking insides suddenly felt. Corey cringes, his hips bucking as he clenches around the uncomfortable intrusion. He crunches on the ice in his mouth to distract himself. “Have to wait for it to melt inside,” he grits out through clenched teeth.

Michal watches with that faint sort of fascination he has for most things which he does not personally understand, yet are intriguing enough for him to consider.

While they wait, Corey grips the rim of the bath, fingers sore with cold-cramp. How did he get here? Jumping from the top storey. Overdosing on his meds. Slitting his wrists with Laurie’s knife. Hanging himself by the belt he’d stopped wearing. No, no. Those days are long gone. Now he’d just use Michael. “How did you kill me?” Corey asks.

Michael is silent. His head dips slightly, like he’s looking the younger man up and down. He approaches, crossing the small room in two strides, before crouching next to the tub. Reaching out, his good hand circles Corey’s throat, finger and thumb pressing ominously on either side of Corey’s windpipe. Strangulation, Michael is saying. Corey should have guessed.

Corey closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, the hand on his throat is gone and Michael has retreated back to the doorway.

It’s impossible to keep track of time like this. Hours could have passed and Corey wouldn’t be able to tell. Corey’s teeth are chattering hard and when he chances a peek at the clock, he manages to let out a shaky breath. Times up. With quaking arms, he lifts himself out of the water. Dripping onto the already-wet tile. As he stands there shivering, he glances over at Michael, still stood watch stoically.

Without a word, which is no surprise, Michael keeps an arm’s length away from him and hands him one of the scratchy motel towels. Corey pats himself dry, not wanting to heat up too quickly when they haven’t even started yet. Catching sight of himself in the vanity mirror shocks him more than he thought it would. He’s pale, sickly pale, and there’s a blue hue on his lips. Every inch of him is devoid of life.

Michael’s playing ‘killer’, isn’t he, so the mask stays on this time. He closes the gap between the two of them, blackened eye holes bore into Corey. Michael's come closer to killing Corey than this, but Corey never had the chance to really play the role of ‘corpse’ then.

There’s a voice in the back of Corey’s head that says they should probably talk about this before they go any further, but before he can indulge or deny that voice, Michael wraps his hands arounds his waist and heft him into a fireman’s lift.

Oh fuck. Michael’s weathered and scarred skin feels white hot against Corey’s, his heart pounds and he doesn’t know if it’s because he wants this so fucking bad or because his body temperature has dropped so much his heartrate is working overtime. Like a ragdoll, Corey doesn’t react when Michael tosses him onto the bed, or when he spreads his legs obscenely wide.

Thick fingers dip into the Vaseline and then into Corey, almost burning hot, replacing what might have been washed away in the bath. Corey breaths shallowly, past the point of shivering now that a dense numbness has settled in his limbs.

It’s more difficult than Corey expects, pretending to be dead. He wants so badly to whimper, to moan when Michael pushes his unreasonably big cock into him. To rock his hips up to meet Michael’s. To press his blueing lips to the rotten latex of the mask. But he forces himself to be still, to make himself go limp. Michael has always been able to manhandle him, but he feels so much more vulnerable when he can’t resist. Or assist, is more like it, he thinks.

He’s used to the stretch by now, but the intensity remains each and every time. Very rarely does Corey wish Michael spoke, but right now he desperately wants to know if his insides feel as deathly cold as his outsides. If Michael’s cock is really that searing of if he’s just forgotten what warm flesh feels like.

Corey tries to suppress a moan, but the sound still rumbles in his throat and slips from his slackened mouth. Michael’s hand comes up, clamps over Corey’s cold lips and squeezes just the right side of too tight. He holds the pressure for a moment before letting go – Be quiet, you’re supposed to be dead, the gesture warns.

Corey does as he’s told. It comes as a surprise when he feels himself get hard, he’d thought he couldn’t with how cold he is, his blood vessels must have closed off, right? Freezing right down to the bone it feels like. Although corpses can stay hard, if that’s how they died, Corey thinks.

As he stares at the ceiling and lets his eyes lose focus even more, Corey’s mind wanders back to the sewer. Thinks about the day he woke up, dazed and scared, and how Michael could have killed him. Could have squeezed the life out of him and fucked him while he was still warm. Or saved him for later when he’d be cold, just like he is now, only better.

He wishes he could see what he looked like from the outside. Wants to know how depraved and disgusting they look as Michael ploughs his prone form, ice cold to the touch and unable to stop himself being defiled. His limbs really do feel stiff from the cold, and he really doesn’t think he could stop Michael even if he wanted to. That mindless bliss he feels when he can just lie there and take it is heightened by the thought of him being like this forever, his skin getting colder and his eyes clouding grey with death and Michael’s cock rocking him into an endless sleep –

Abruptly, Michael pulls out and Corey wonders what’s happening, wonders if Michael’s suddenly decided he’s not into it, before he’s flipped over. His arm is trapped at an uncomfortable angle beneath him, but he doesn’t readjust, just waits until Michael forces himself back in, half-pulling Corey back onto his cock. The rough material of Michael’s coveralls – because he is the killer, right now, not the man – chafes Corey’s freezing thighs.

Corey’s twisted arm brushes against his own cock with each thrust. It takes everything in him not to react, not to move his arm just a little so he can grasp himself with an icy hand. He resists the temptation, after all, he’s dead, isn’t he? Mind long gone and nothing useful left of him except a cold, tight hole.

Being dead feels so mind numbingly good. So, so much better than he ever imagined. Even at his worst, even when he cried himself to sleep every night. He’s so fucking glad he waited – no, that’s a lie – he’s so fucking glad he never had the guts to do it. Because if he’d offed himself back then, his body would have gone to waste.

Getting bored, or maybe Corey just makes such a pretty corpse that he should be face up, Michael flips him back over, and Corey’s gaze briefly refocus on the ceiling once again, his mouth open and wanting. The thrusts get harsher, Michael is ruthless as the best of times, and Corey certainly isn’t going to break the moment to complain. He chokes back a moan, his leg twitching involuntarily when Michael’s hips smash against his in a final moment of primal desire.

Corey comes untouched, as soon he feels the explosion of heat inside him from Michael’s own release. If anything can bring him back to life, it’s Michael.

He blinks slowly; a long, slow breath rattles his chest.

“If you fucked me like that afterwards, I really would let you kill me,” Corey says, from the cocoon of blankets he’s swaddled himself in.

The friction and exertion from their fucking had warmed him up a little by the end, but then he’d started shivering again and realised he should probably do something about it.

Michael is sat beside him on the bed, leaning against the headboard, when he turns to face Corey properly. The mask sits between them.

Whether you let me or not, I’ll do it one day, Michael is saying. And Corey knows it.

#corey cunningham #michael myers #corey cunningham x michael myers #cunningmyers #but i promise no one is actually dead #i'm sorry for all of this. well mostly sorry. a little bit sorry.#inspired partly by a line in the song sacrasm by get scared #title is from type o negative of course #disclaimer: i dont think either of them are actually *into* n/cro. but corey is trying to process some old feelings --#-- and michael doesnt have a lot of se/xual preferences. so he is willing (sometimes) to indulge corey's weirder ones #something something even if he was dead he'd want michael to want him

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poppy-metal · 2 years

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the stiles stillinski to steve harrington pipline.

#poppy speaks #the dots are connecting #BC BOTH OF THEM WERE RHE ONLY ONES ACTING NORMAL AROUND SUPERNATURAL SHIT #THE BAT???? THE SACRASM AS A DEFENSE MECHANISM #now hold on

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the-lady-auri · 1 year

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Very low effort sketch I did tonight. Decided to re-do an old painting of narmun as a greek statue. took about 45 min or less. I have no intentions of finishing it. I just wanted to get something out, as a migraine has been kicking my ass the last *checks watch* 6+ days now. Please be kind, imma go crawl back into my anxiety and migraine riddled cave.

#narmun #oc #shadows and starlight #shadows and starlight comic #auri's oc #auri's art #sketch #i'm so tired and anxious rn please sent hot cocoa #imma go do something relaxing like play elden ring #yes that was sacrasm #or was it #idfk

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antiibow-a · 10 months

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Sheva looking at men she doesn't respect, tryna see where tf she asked:

#̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\ ▸ 𝙋𝘼𝙐𝙎𝙀𝘿 𝙂𝘼𝙈𝙀 ◂ ooc.#i just think shes really cute #its hard for her to make angry faces #but shes def queen of facial sacrasm

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yumkatcakes · 5 months

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i love when 2 people i follow decide to spam reblog two different posts and really go wild with it rendering the website essentially unusable

scrolling through this:

post 1

post 2

post 1

post 2

post 1

post 2

post 1

post 2

post 1

post 2

on and on into eternity

#you don't get this kind of content anywhere else <3 #this might sound like sacrasm but i mean it #please be annoying about your interests #like i don't love scrolling through that but i love that people allow themselves to do shit like this on here #kat.txt

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some-pers0n · 11 months

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The part that annoys me the most about Glorybringer as a whole is how violently out of character Glory acts while around Deathbringer.

Glory is characterized as a level-headed, yet reasonably suspicion person. She doesn't take things at face value and generally always has her guard up. She has a low tolerance for things she finds annoying and will often just exit the situation if it's not enjoyable in the slightest.

So...tell me why does she instantly fall for Deathbringer? She lacks any sort of rational thought and just sort of mindlessly banters with him. Her personality is reduced to simply 'quirky sacrasm' so that they can flirt with each other. It gets even worse when it's revealed that Deathbringer was originally sent to kill them and is now targeting Blaze. Glory, you've literally KILLED dragons over less. Why is this one NightWing an exception?

"Oh its because she loves him–" she had ONE conversation with him where he did nothing but incessantly flirt and bother her. I don't know how else to tell you this, but Glory wouldn't fall for a guy like that at all; at least not within the first conversation and ESPECIALLY after learning he's an assassin and is now trying to kill them.

#I hate arc 1 ships with a burning passion #It's late at night so I must ramble into the void #wof #wings of fire #glory wof #deathbringer wof #The only good arc 1 ship is Orchidgrove #The rest are either meh or awful #sp-rambles

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piningintrovert · 4 months

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Hi! I'm a mostly quiet follower admirer of your blog and I have no idea why I followed you but I like your blog, lot's of diversity and queer "stuff" and I kind of love it (Okay I love it a lot) I'm anonymlous because I'm kind of old, but I wanted to let you know I saw a gif or a question list maybe about some series called "The Sign" and it looked interesting (like young me would have devoured it if it came out in her time) and so I thought what the heck I'll check it out.

I found it on youtube, watched all of the ones they had (up to episode 5) and am now hooked. Is there a place to watch this and others like it that supports the actors? I mean free is nice but it doesn't pay the actors. I did do some research but google isn't helpful when it comes to services from around the world (is anyone surprised? Sacrasm intended). I can probably only afford one? So I was thinking of doing iQIYI, but I'm not sure? Where do you watch your content mostly? OR do you have recommendations for subscriptions services that might be better?

Also, any other shows you recommend?

Sorry for so many questions in one, and please feel free to ignore, I'm sure I'll figure it out.

Hi nonnie! Thank you so much following my blog; I'm glad that you are enjoying the chaos and content!

If your goal is to support the actors, YouTube is the best place to watch The Sign and other queer (Thai) shows like it because the episodes are released on YouTube by the official productions house. For example, you have IdolFactory which is the official production house for The Sign.

Then you have GMMTV, one of the largest, most prolific producers of Thai BL on YouTube followed by Studio Wabi Sabi, MeMindY, and Mandee just to name a few.

There are also "smaller" production houses like Star Hunter Entertainment, Dee Hup House, Dược sĩ Tiến Entertainment (Vietnamese), STRONGBERRY (Korean) and VIBIE STUDiO, O2 Production (Vietnamese), and Oxin Films (Pinoy).

So to answer your question, I watch most of my content on YouTube. And since you're just getting started, you will find more than enough content to keep you entertained there. However, if you are truly in the market for a subscription service for bl/queer content, I would recommend GagaOOLala. iQIYI does have a few gems (KinnPorsche, Laws of Attraction, Dead Friend Forever (airing), Blueming, Sing My Crush, La Pluie etc.) and the uncut versions of a few shows (Love in the Air, Wedding Plan, Bed Friend, Pit Babe etc.), but in my opinion, you would definitely get more variety (in terms of regions and genres) and bang for your buck with GagaOOLala.

For a more in-depth analysis on streaming services, I recommend reading this post by @absolutebl as it can help you make a more informed decision regarding the streaming service that would be the best fit for you.

And for recommendations, I'll give you Bad Buddy, Only Friends, Not Me, Like in the Movies, GAP, Ghost Host Ghost House, Lovely Writer, Secret Crush on You, Be My Favorite, and Moonlight Chicken. You can find the descriptions here and they're all on YouTube!

Hope this helps and feel free to stop by if you have any other questions 💜

#nonnie #rae replies #multi #recommendations

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anukulee · 7 months

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His Morning Sunshine

Starring Tom Hiddleston as Loki

Alongside Emily Skinner and Valentina Zenere as Lucia Ortiz

youtube

A/N: I thought I would try something new with a grumpy sunshine routine, so I hope you all enjoy it.

The single groan that escaped from Loki's throat was one full of such husky, sultry, and seductive energy, that one might assure was a moan, given the husky nature of it. Yet rather than it be a moan driven out of pleasure, it was instead driven out the usual morning displeasure. As his green eyes slowly blinked open, as he cupped his hand against his eyes, so as to try and block out the early morning rays that were shining through, the curtains of his room.

For he had never been one for mornings, even in Asgard, he saw it as a waste of the day, for him mornings rarely held precious memories. Reminders of being forced to sit around the table, and put off the early morning antics of his family. For if he desired to hear Odin bark his cruel words, or Thor stuffing his face with all the food the palace had to offer, he could've just come during a feast. Other then that morning only reminded him of the long day that faced him. Yet despite everything in him crying to shut his eyes again for more sleep, he forced his eyes to remain awake, to slowly adjust to the morning light.

With each moment passing, Loki began to grow more accustomed to the morning, bit by bit slowly sitting up trying not to stir the bed. “Another shitty day,” he proclaimed in a mutter to nobody in particular, the proclamation was grumpy as one might expect. Even with this, he didn’t even spar a glance to the other side of his bed, a side that perhaps would rid him of his morning mood. Slowly he allowed his fingertips to gaze at his forehead, slowly rubbing them, as despite everything he continued to force himself awake.

Through every movement he made, he was still as grumpy as ever. His eyebrows soon formed a crease despite it being far too early for such matters, through for him it was never too early. “Norns, I hate morning,” Loki proclaimed once more to no one in particular. Yet rather than be greeted with silence as he had before, there was another voice, a voice that belonged to her and her alone.

“You say every day,” her voice proclaimed, this one more feminine than her counterpart.

“Because every day it's the same,” he retorted.

“What even with me around,” his companion replied, going so far as to beat her eyelashes together, sounding almost hurt by his statement. Upon hearing this, his gaze now drifted to the other side of the bed, finally now registering that he wasn’t alone anymore.

“You’re still here Lucia,” Loki asked, his tone lacked with sacrasm, as if he hadn’t been the very god to invite her in.

“What do you want me to leave, Loki,” Lucia asked with a pause, as slowly she began to sit up. “How cruel kicking me out of your bed, and after all we did,” she said, taking this chance to put her hands at her chest in mock offense.

To this, Loki gave her to him, a well deserved eye roll. “As if you didn’t enjoy it,” Loki said, as a slow and sensual smile began to cross his face.

“Now, I never said that, did I?”

“Didn’t you through,” Loki teased, his voice sounding more akin to his usual games.

“Just like you like to pretend you hate mornings.”

“But I do," Loki insisted, which may have worked for anyone else. Sadly for him Lucia knew far better then what he claimed, yet still she played along with it.

“Do you truly,” Lucia asked, her tone implying a more skeptical note to it.

“Yes,” Loki responded in a deadpan manner.

“Than I suppose if you hate mornings so much, perhaps I shall make my way elsewhere,” Lucia said, slowly getting up from the bed, but not before Loki had caught her wrist. Going so far as to roll over her and pin her down, his hands now holding her waists, in a way that she could escape if need be. Yet both knew that wasn’t likely to happen.

“You shall do no such thing,” Loki proclaimed now looking down at his pinned companion.

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“Because I won’t let you.”

“Won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And here I thought you hated mornings.”

“Must you do this right now,” Loki asked, very amused by Lucia current attics.

“Always,” she remarked with a grin spread across her face, much like the Cheshire cat.

“How I hate when you are like this,” Loki proclaimed as if he didn’t secretly love her, especially during moments like this. As his eyes mirrored a different story, eyes full of what one might expect from someone who desired another, with love in between the lust.

“Do you truly?”

“Yes,” Loki as if his eyes weren’t screaming bedroom eyes.

“Your eyes seem to be saying different,” she proclaimed stubbornly despite her current position.

“And what do my eyes say,” he asked playing along with her bluff.

“They say you want to,” Lucia said, as she leaned up as close as she could, before saying certain words, far dirtier than any parent might let their child hear. Despite not being new to her words, this seemed to startle Loki, enough that he lost his gripe enough that the woman freed her own hands. As she flipped them so she was now on top of him. “Looks like you are the one on the bottom now.”

“So I am,” Loki trying to act calm, as if his heart currently wasn’t beating out of control, both of our love and desire by the very women who were holding him down. Yet rather then use his ready avaible seidr, Loki was far more interested in what she might do, thus he held off, despite the very yeaning feeling in his loins.

“Now what shall I do, with you? Perhaps I should teach you a lesson, leaving you aching for my every touch.”

“As if I don’t already.”

“Yes, I know, but perhaps I should try more,” Lucia asked, allowing one of her hands to caress his head.

As she positioned herself firmly on top of Loki, right above a certain area of his body.

“Such as,” Loki asked, as if he was in any real position to resist her.

“Who knows, maybe I should try,” Lucia began to say, still pressed firmly against Loki. Leaning down as she kissed the shell of his ear, going so far as to tug just a little, in just the way she knew he liked. As a single husky moan escaped his lips, very much aroused by her actions, and now unable to hide it. Lucia seemed to take delight in this, as a smile crossed her features once more. “What do you like this,” she asked, as she continued her movements, now on his face. One by one placing sensual kisses on it, until she reached his lips, putting even more weight on him, and even stirring her hips above his. Her lips captured in his, as both fought for dominance, and in the moment he thought he won, she parted her lips from his.

“Hmmm,” Loki whined already missing her lips, this only causing the woman to gain more of a confident smile. Now far too distracted to think of how to escape much less use his seidr.

“So I take it you liked it,” Lucia asked, before descending further down leaving just as sensual kisses as before.

“You know I did,” Loki proclaimed, his voice now taking on a more dangerous husky tone, one that should’ve warned her, yet as expected she didn’t listen.

“Yes, I did,” Lucia remarked with a grin as she seemed set to continue on her path to torment him, leaving kisses each as sensual as the last. “Now you have two choices,” she offered.

“Oh and what are they,” Loki asked, his eyebrow-raising just a bit, in curiosity.

“Either you can admit that maybe you don’t hate mornings as much as you claim or….”

“Or what?”

“Or I continue this.”

“Will you?”

“Yes,” Lucia said, her eyes clearly showing her unwillingess to give up, something Loki found even more arousing if that was even possible.

“Then I suppose I could give in or…..”

“Or what?”

“I could do this,” Loki said, as with his own smirk, along with his arms, he proceeded to caress the curve of his partner's ass. Carassing in just the way he knew she liked it, as slowly the woman seemed to forget her initial task, the man taking this chance to flip them back to their original positions. Through with something now peeking out that hadn’t been before. “Now what were you saying about me giving in,” Loki asked as if his godly morning wood wasn’t in clear view.

Rather than a clear statement a whimper seemed to be all that came out of the Lucia's beautiful lips.

“That’s what I thought,” Loki said, the smirk still ever present on his face.

“I hate you,” Lucia spite out, through both parties knew that was far from the truth.

Despite this Loki didn’t seem deteriorated by her words at all, as it only seemed to make him more confident. “So you claim, yet here beneath me, almost as if you are submitting to my every desire.”

“So what?”

“Well, if you were perhaps a good girl, I might reward you.”

“Will you Daddy,” Lucia asked, and despite the number of kinks that Loki found arousing daddy was not one of them. Likely steamed from his own years of daddy issues, making him never being one for it. As a frown became evident on his godly features.

“If I were your daddy we wouldn’t be in this position.”

“Wouldn’t we, perhaps you are my sugar daddy.”

“Are you sure you want to play this game with me,” Loki asked, a clear warning in his voice.

“Whose to say, would you like it?”

“Perhaps,” Loki hinted, yet proceeded to pause. “But if we did, you might not get the answer you seek.”

“Which is.”

“You might be right.”

“Oh, am I?”

“Only if you agree to be a good girl, and stop protesting.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I might have to punish you.”

“Will you,” the woman asked her own eyes now filling with arousal at the suggestion.

“Yes.”

“Well we can’t have that now can we?”

“No, so will you stop this nonsense and allow me to speak.”

“If I must,” Lucia said with a pout knowing that consciences would be far worse, and besides his rewards are always better than his punishments.

“Good girl,” Loki before leaning down ever close to her. “I was never a morning person, but then I started waking up to your face and….”

“And what?”

“Perhaps, mornings aren’t that bad, after all.”

Whoever made the next move couldn’t be determined all that was known was the two might’ve been stuck in bed for a little while longer inducing in certain morning pleasures. As the once morning grump Loki might’ve changed his tune just a little, though he would never admit it, after all, if he did, he might be without his morning pleasures, and besides what was he, if he wasn’t Lucia's morning grump?

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