#Rhythem

[koicorp]

ROCKIN!

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

I just decided that Malleus reproduces like a Pokemon

[catspinach]

idk why but it feels so childish to be a morning person. ur bedtime is 8:30 and u wake up at 6am? toddler behavior.

[kingwolfie08]

main character from that one parappa the rapper ripoff game some people love to hate on, aka jung rhythm

anyways the character is vanilla e something (i know her last name but i forget how to spell it) in the camp camp artstyle. (i was really bored). also i gave her green eyes because i just fought it looked good.

[demondeathamateur666]

[antstarion]

guys I can't stop listening to careless whisper. at. at first it was a joke. but now i’m not sure.

[nervouslywaitingforlife]

Damn I cant belive I've defeated 2 fake Napoleon Bonaparte in two different games in the same year...

Wow

[mehundmeh]

1940s Noah

[clairefable]

this video and song have lived rent free in my head for over 20 years

[keepontalking]

Nuengdiao listen to classical music at a picnic table

Me: Oh my God, he’s a Reveluv <3

[dwter]

it made me feel like you are a freak.

hm do u ever think this could be the projection of your own views of yourself

[kittysarchive]

Patience, Sunghoon

sorry I wasn't active recently

warnings- smut, fingering, dom Sunghoon, needy reader, hair pulling kink (sunghoon), cuming inside, lmk if i missed anything :)

Hovering above you, Sunghoon couldn't hold back that smirk. Gosh, you were so wet. And he hadn't even touched you.

Crying, you raised your hips. Begging for anything.

"So wet..." His fingers grazed over your folds. Every touch like jolts of electricity. You were so needy, so sensitive so....

Forcing a finger into your wetness, you couldn't hold bac your moan. Moaning at the way his finger curled, the way they prodded at you sweet spot, the way they made you feel so full.

"W-want your cock" You pant. His fingers felt good, but you wanted more. You needed more.

"Be patient" Sunghoon lightly scolded you, adding another finger into your heat. Whining at his scolding, you stop as his second fingers adds another wave of pleasure.

"Like that?" Sunghoon teased, hovering over your frame, getting closer to your neck. Making target, he sucks onto your neck. Moaning louder, your hands shoot to his hair. Pulling his strands slightly, he groans into your neck. Forcing his fingers deeper into your cunt, he speeds up.

The squelching of your pussy fills the room as Sunghoon's rough grunts follow behind. Admis the groaning, whining and sweaty bodies, Sunghoon feels his cock tighten, begging to be released from his boxers.

Pulling away from you, just for a second he quickly slides off his boxers. Hissing as the cold but passionate air hits his cock. Knowing you were stretched enough, ready enough. Sunghoon slams his hips against yours, easily entering your begging pussy.

"Ah-" Sunghoon hisses again, biting his lip hard to conceal his own noises. Fuck, your pussy was so tight, he thought he stretched you out enough. But that didn't matter, he knew you could easily take his length.

Pulling his hips back, he slams down into you, forcing your body to rock with the force. Whing quietly, you noise loudens as he speeds up. Every thrust jolting your body, every thrust prodding at you g-spot, every thrust brining you both to your release.

"I-I'm close" You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to not cum, trying to stretch out the pleasure. Sunghoon nods above you, placing a tight grip on your waist as he finds a new rhythem.

"Same..." He breaths out, he was in fact going to burst out any second. God, the sheer thought of your pussy could make Sunghoon cum.

"Doing so good for me.... keep holding" He was so close.... you just needed to wait then he could release with you, fuck all his cum deeper into you as your pussy clenched against his cock. You just needed you hold.

"Now" You gasp, realising all your pleasure. Just as Sunghoon had thought, you squeeze his cock harder, spreading your juices all over his shaft. Following after, he spurts his seed deep inside you, hips not stopping as he fucks it deeper and deeper. He wasn't going to waste his load.

Hips slowing down, he releases his tight grip on your waist. Pulling his cock out of your puffy pussy, his cock his coated in his own seed and glistens in your juices. Reaching for his phone, he snaps a quick photo. He could never forget how his cock looked in his cum, in your juices, he could never forget this moment.

[radiumiven]

Hi-fi Rush by Tango Gamework. An amazing game released long ago in January that combines rhythem game with action game. It also have great soundtrack.

Sorry it's been soo long, I've been having a hard time last month for feeling depress.

[oogalaboogalabich]

More Durgetash filth for you :) w/ canon durge.

Enver is feeling dominant tonight, more than that, he needs to rid himself of some pent up rage and you are all too happy to oblige him.

He has been wailing on you fairly hard. Fierce and merciless while you arent even bound, tempting danger more than you usually dare. However, your caution seems unwarranted for once.

You are completely blissed out in the sauce though and he cant get the reaction out of you he wants. He wants you to fight back. But that isnt going to happen today. For whatever reason, youre so relaxed under his brutality you fear you may actually drift off into sleep, despite the very very real beating youre getting.

Hes exhausted himself and youre just smiling up at him and bleeding. Its utterly infuriating. Entirely enchanting.

Gortashs good arm is shaking from exhertion and he looks cross as he does pleased.

"I was hoping for a little more fight from you, bhaalspawn."

"Feels too good" your chest is heaving with your ragged breath, your voice seeping from your throat like gravel and chocolate. "Dont want to scream..." Almost soothing enough to ease his ire. He wanted you to cry out today. needed it. Its so rare for enver to be in the mood for this. you feel a twinge of guilt, however small it is. But your still floating in a world off in your own right now, only half present.

"An exchange then." He tosses the tawse to the side and taps a crop under your chin a moment later, lifting it. "What is it you want, beast? How am i to wrench a scream from that pretty blue tongue?"

Your grin resembles more of a snarl, what for him pulling you out of your reverie. He asked you a question. You try to recall, but seconds ago may as well be hours.

"I asked you...*tap* what *tap* you *tap* want."

You stare up at him, and drink in his features. You do your best to ignore the red hot whispers of blood and death as they swirl and circle in from the corners of your mind, no longer silenced by the haze of Envers lash.

His lips have always been your favorite feature of his. Something forbidden to you for fear of destroying his greatest weapon in your teeth. Thin above with a lower lip that creates a meaty little pout whenever hes not scowling or smiling outright.

Your teeth are too sharp for him. Always. A healing spell could fix the damage, but it is his one prevailing fear. The loss of his voice, the use of his talented tongue, his ability to command.

An intolerable sacrifice he would never give freely. But he doesnt offer freely. Not tonight.

You speak before you mean to.

"A kiss."

Envers eyes visibly darken at that, if thats even possible.

"A kiss..." His smirk is one of incredulous surprise. His tone mocking, sardonic. He rolls his eyes, but looks so beyond pleased with this answer that it concerns you. you dont understand why, and you dont dare question him now...not until you have your answer at least.

"Please..." you dont speak this time. It comes out as little more than a rumble in your chest. As soft as it is, you sound positively feral, even by your own judgement. "Just one....gods PLEASE Enver."

Envers eyes have gone wide, his breath following a quicker rhythem than before. He knew he wanted this, despite his fears, he wants it as much as you.

The silence lasts far too long.

"Hold out your sword arm..."

"Env-" your jaw aches from the sting of the crop across it. You try to reign in your grin, to hide the teeth that enver would see...would remember and then deny you your wish. But your scailed lips peel back anyway, and your tongue lolls past them as your claws dig groves in the stone floor.

You lift your arm.

"Palm up...." you obey without question this time. He traces the crop in circles around the center of your palm. "An eye for an eye...as always with you isnt it?"

You draw in a breath that shudders with you.

"A weapon..." his tongue wets the corner of his lower lip. "...for a weapon."

You had never once begged him before. Not. once. Demanded, yes. Sarcastically denied any interest? Of course. Spent hours and hours on his knees in submission? Oh absolutely.

But this....this was better than he could have hoped for. A bhallspawn, the purest flesh of his gods mortal enemy.

Offering his own unholy hand in sacrifice for the kiss of a Tyrant.

Ten blows. Ten beautiful savage, flesh tearing strikes of twisted iron to your palm.

Each one alone is not enough, but by the time he reaches number seven, you can feel the very marrow in your bones beginning to bruise.

The eighth has you roaring at him like the animal he loves to reduce you to.

The nineth is aknowledgeable agony, something so deep even you cannot deny that little pleasure can be had from it. And you wonder if any kiss is worth this until you see the look on his face. Youve finally given him what he wanted. Its better than he could have imagined, hearing not a cry or a scream, but the gutteral roar of his dragonborn pet.

The tenth....gods but the tenth blow takes so long to come. You kneel there, shaking, anxious...eager even, despite the knowledge that the final blow will be far worse than any before.

And it is. Its saring white hot and blinding as the kiss that follows before you even realize youve been hit. You feel his gauntlets cutting under your jaw as he presses his lips to yours. You dont expect anything more than that. Enver has never once allowed even this. Too intimate.

You are both already so dangerously close to blasphemy every time you even look at each other.

But then you feel it, his tongue, gliding in past wicked teeth and coaxing yours to join it. You dare not move your jaw except to open it further at his behest, letting him do as he pleases. You feel it caress and flick freely with the enthusiasm and lack of skill one would expect from someone who doesnt normally allow themselves such indignity, especially as messy as this. You want to bite. Hells you must. Not. Bite. But gods hes got your tongue between those lips and-

And hes gone. You whine at the loss and care little that you must sound disgustingly pitiful. open your eyes to see him standing, smirking above you. His hair sticks to his cheeks and forehead, dripping with sweat same as what of his chest you are privilaged to see through the laces of his shirt. His gauntlets must be sweltering for him.

Indeed you can see moisture dripping from his wrists from under the golden cuffs. Its a wonder he was able to grip the crop so tightly.

He rakes a hand through his hair and slicks it back. Something you only ever see when on your knees...or when you have him on his.

He tosses the crop to the floor, unceremonious and callous as ever.

"Clean yourself up..." and meet him in the boudoir. the silent half of the command is present enough in the strained nature of his exit.

You dare only move when the door closes behind him, leaving you alone in his office.

You groan and collapse, rolling onto your back as a chuckle escapes you. You lift your hand to inspect it.

Your hide is only mildly bruised. The discoloration negligible.

but the damage beneath sings to you, makes your throat thrum in thick, plucking clicks of your vocal chords that resemble a purr.

You give your fingers an experimental flex, and suck in a hiss of air when your palm sends agony all the way up to your elbow.

Every flick of your blade for the next tenday, every sacrifice to Bhaal would be tainted by the taste of Banes chosen. The memory of the reward given for your tribute. Your sacrifice, mild as it is.

A sliver of dread slips into the back of your mind, and yet....you smile.

"Forgive me, Father..."

Worth it. So worth it.

[heranubis]

another gift for @cyarebunnies 💙 i'v been made aware some people are unsure about reading/writing fics about braiding charles hair - so as a native myself i'v decided to indulge you all. every tribe is different - we are not a monolith - so i am only speaking for my own teachings. please enjoy.

hair braiding has always been something you enjoyed. mary-beth often approaching and shyly asking if you could help her redo a style that had fallen loose throughout the night. or even miss grimshaw when dutch drove the poor woman nearly mad with his shenanigans. hell, even big ol' arthur let you mess with his hair if you'd let him use you as a pillow for his naps.

but there was one person you'd been too shy to ask - charles smith. the man was far from mean, often making sure you'd get a bowl of whatever pearson had slapped together before anyone else (read: sean, dutch, or micah) got theirs. you'd once mentioned in passing that you enjoyed river stones and on every fishing trip he took with arthur, he'd bring you back a handful. some nights, when you were the only ones left by the campire, he'd tell you stories his mama had taught him - those were your favorite times.

you noticed he'd usually keep small bits of his hair up in braids; small, almost unoticable little things they were. but you noticed, you noticed the different beads and feathers and even the ways he would tie those little braids up to look like a sort of crown. and finally, hiding from a rainstorm under the tent he shared with javier, you finally asked if you could braid his hair. javier had stopped strumming his guitar and looked at you from the corner of his eye, watching and waiting (as you assumed the rest of the gang to be as well).

charles had a thoughtful look on his face, much like dutch described his book of philosophers to sport, and he looked at you kindly with a gentle smile on his lips. "braiding hair is something important and personal to me - but i would like to share that experience with you. was starting to wonder if i'd have to offer it up to you." you gave a huff and playful smile of your own as he undid the few braids he had and moved to lay his head in your lap.

javier began strumming again and distantly you could hear arthur replying in kind with his harmonica. it was almost like your own personal heaven - the sound of the rain providing a steady rhythem as camp life dwindled down into a lullaby. and its one your fingers move to - its just a simple three plaite but you still listen intently as charles begins explaining why hair braiding is so personal to him.

it's something done by someone you trust - hair is connected to your soul, to your ancestors. you take care of it; and them. you must think good thoughts as it will tie the intentions into the braid - you wish someone you love well, you wish them strength and courage. you wish them something gentle. these are all things you think as you braid his hair. you wish him health and clarity, to never stray from his path and always be the kind man you know him as.

he falls asleep, his head in your lap and hair in his hands. javier whispers a joke you don't catch over the storm, and distantly johns laugh echoes through the air. you love braiding hair - its something soothing and an action of intimacy not easily replicated - but with charles, its different.

when you braid charles' smiths hair - its like youre touching his soul. you sew love and warmth and peace into every strand as they fall into place. you wish that he never loses the joy hidden in those dark eyes of his, that his laugh will always be strong and hearty. when you braid charles' smiths hair - you have his soul in your hands.