#faster memorize

[melloreine]

dorkhood is going a little insane everytime you hear your favorite quote

[miraclemaya]

ahhh i need a bigger table for these damn solo ttrpgs. ive been trying my hand at playing one that seemed kinda neat but im running into the issues of, a. not enough desk space for the cards. b. my hand writing is really bad and writing too long hurts my hand... maybe i should just do it on my computer next time but it's like gah... it doesn't feel like im doing a journaling game then, this sucks....

[birdmenmanga]

can the homies say something nice like "You're going to do great at that lecture on making zines and doujinshi" or maybe "I know you're so articulate and knowledgeable about these topics even though you may not be able to verbally express it" or something along those lines? thanks

[purenguyening]

Okay so, I can fold Nakashima's seamless cube with a square that's 2.75in without tweezers, but it still takes me a hot minute to remember the final pre-creases.

[windandwater]

overheard in a southern thrift store, and it is essential that you picture me and my mother very very quietly looking through jewelry so we can hear every single word:

"well, we're in a hurry, we gotta get goin"

*20 more minutes of gossip later*

"we gotta get outta here or my husband's gonna kill me, he's waitin' on me"

*15 more minutes of chitchat later*

"well we should go, my husband's gonna kill me, see y'all later, I love you gals"

at that point they left, although not in much of a hurry

I have no idea how long they were talking before we walked in the door

[lizasweetling]

So what impact will this rando's confusion have on our story? or perhaps he's just here for flavor...

[ereh-emanresu-tresni]

No but fr imagine making an adaptation where you're so desperate to overexaggerate the whole "you were a coward who ran from your responsibilities so must work to make up for it now" melodrama, to the point of sacrificing multiple critical characters' distinct and appreciable personalities into the woodchipper in favor of one-dimensional screamranting, but then also just like... Don't proceed to have him do much if anything to start making up for it. Did Aang literally at any point even consider learning waterbending, let alone actually practice it one (1) time outside of being controlled by the avatar state/ocean spirit? No. Because otherwise how could we shoehorn in another bs "I'm not a waterbender I can't help defend you :c" "tsk guess we still can't count on the Avatar >:/" exchange? uGH

[verdantmeadows]

Professor Layton speedruns are so funny because there's not really anything impressive skill-wise like a Hollow Knight speedrun or glitch-wise like a Mario 64 speedrun. Answer my puzzles and mash through dialogue fast boy

[sleepless-crows]

i wish the music i liked was in a language i understand

[frogferrys]

any other ppl in marching band absolutely despise playing on wisconsin or is that just me

[dentist-brainsurgeon]

Got to play it again woohoo

[sunflwrapple]

2025 please come faster please

[yurizq]

ෆ Choso doesn’t feel jealousy like most men do.

He doesn’t brood in corners. Doesn’t start fights. He just goes… still.

So when he sees that guy lean too close to you—when he watches that hand rest a little too long on your lower back—he doesn’t make a scene. Doesn’t even flinch.

He just looks.

Like he’s watching someone make a clerical error. Like he’s going to fix it with a red pen and a cold stare. And that’s when he calls Yuji.

“Someone was touching her.” “What do I do about it?”

Yuji, ever the chaos goblin, laughs into the phone.

“You fuck her.”

Choso’s quiet. “That’s… the fix?”

“You fuck her until she forgets other people exist. That’s the fix.”

Choso files it away. Doesn’t even question it. If it keeps someone else’s hands off you? He’ll do it.

Even if he doesn’t realize yet that his cock is fucking lethal.

You show up to his place smiling, cute, babbling about your day. Clueless.

He doesn’t say much. Just sits you on his lap, stares down at you like you’ve disappointed him, but he still loves you anyway.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you ask, tilting your head.

His hand slides between your thighs.

"You let someone else touch you," he says, soft but dark. “So now I have to fix it.”

You blink. “…What?”

He stands, still holding your wrist. Pulls you to the bedroom. Quiet. No emotion in his face—like he’s about to clock in for work.

And when he gets you naked? He spreads you on the mattress and stares for a full minute like he’s memorizing the shape of you.

"You forgot you were mine," he says finally.

And then he spits in his hand and strokes his cock—long, heavy, thick, flushed dark at the tip like he's been hard since the moment that guy touched you.

Your mouth falls open. "Choso—what the hell—"

"You let someone else look at you like you’re free use," he mutters, climbing over you, "so now I have to remind you you’re not."

You gasp as he presses in—slow, too slow for how big he is, making your eyes roll back before you’ve even taken half.

"You’re mine," he says again, almost gentle, even as his hands grip your thighs hard enough to bruise.

“Choso—it’s too—fuck—”

He doesn’t listen. Just keeps pushing in until you’re full—stuffed, stretched around him, dripping down your thighs from the stretch.

"You’ll take it," he mutters. “You’ll take all of me, because no one else gets to.”

And then he starts fucking you.

It's rough.

Choso doesn’t just thrust—he drives into you like he’s staking a claim. Big hands keeping you open, letting you feel everything as his cock drags along your walls, thick and veiny and so deep it punches the breath from your lungs.

"You don’t need anyone else to make you feel good,” he growls in your ear. “This pussy’s mine. Say it.”

You choke on a moan. “It’s yours—fuck—yours, yours, yours—”

He grunts, pace getting faster. "That’s right. Only I fuck you like this. Only I can stretch you out this good."

You’re gone. Head thrown back, drooling, gasping with every deep thrust as his cock hits that devastating spot inside you again and again.

“You think that guy could’ve made you cum like this?” he snarls, grabbing your jaw and making you look at him.

You shake your head, dizzy. “N-No—only you—fuck, please—please don’t stop—”

And he doesn’t.

He flips you, face down, fucks you from behind with his hand in your hair, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room like a punishment. Like every thrust is a reminder:

You’re. Not. Going. Anywhere.

You scream when you cum—back arching, clenching down so hard he groans your name through gritted teeth.

“Good girl,” he pants. “You’re mine now. No more mistakes.”

And then he pulls out just to cum on your lower back, spreading it with two fingers before pushing back into you again.

“Didn’t say I was done correcting you.”

[kaitoru]

୨୧ satoru gojo is the type to bite during sex to coax extra noise out of you.

rough. auralism. power play. dirty talk. biting / marking.

“satoru—ngh—why’re you biting me so much?” you gasp voice half-moan, as his teeth sink into the soft spot under your jaw, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make you squirm.

your pussy clenches around his cock slick and hot, and you feel him grin against your skin, his thrusts slowing for a second like he’s savoring your reaction.

your hands are in his hair, tugging, trying to pull him off, but its no use he’s already moving to your shoulder, nipping again, the sting sending a shiver through you.

“cause you sound so damn good when i do,” he murmurs, voice low, a little breathless, his lips brushing the fresh mark he’s left.

he thrusts deeper the wet slap of his hips against yours filling the room, and you moan, loud and unfiltered, exactly what he wants.

“see? that noise—fuck, i could listen to that all day.” he’s teasing, but its real, his eyes locked on yours, like he’s memorizing every sound you make.

you roll your eyes trying to keep up the fight even as your body’s betraying you, hips rocking to meet his thrusts.

his teeth graze your collarbone now, a quick nip that makes you gasp, your nails digging into his back. “can’t you just—kiss me like a normal person?”

“normal?” he pulls back, smirking his cock still moving inside you, slow and deliberate now, like he’s dragging it out to torture you.

“babe, you’d get bored if i was normal.” he leans down, biting the curve of your neck, harder, and you yelp, the sound morphing into a moan as he thrusts hard, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl.

“admit it—you love this,” he says voice all smug but soft, like he’s daring you to deny it. “love it? ngh—im gonna—fuck—have marks for days,” you shoot back voice wobbly, trying to sound mad, but its hard when your pussy’s fluttering around him, so close to the edge.

you tug his hair, pulling his face closer, and he groans, low and rough, clearly into it. “you’re gonna owe me concealer, satoru,” you add, and he chuckles, his breath hot against your skin as he moves to bite the inside of your thigh, his hands spreading your legs wider.

“concealer? nah, you wear my marks like a badge,” he says, voice muffled against your skin, his teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm, your moan louder now, exactly what he’s chasing.

he starts to thrusts faster, his cock stretching you, the rhythm picking up as he gets needier, his words coming between breaths.

“fuck, you’re so loud—ngh—keep making those noises, yeah?”

“you’re—fuck—gonna get us a noise complaint,” you tease breathless, and he laughs again, his thrusts stuttering like your words hit him.

“good. let ‘em hear how good im doing you,” he says, serious, and he leans up, kissing the bite mark on your neck like an apology, his cock still moving, pushing you both closer.

“you close? c'mon, babe, i wanna hear you.” he murmurs, his tone all coaxing, and you nod, too gone to talk, your moans spilling out as he bites your earlobe, the final push that sends you over.

“fuck—satoru!” you cry, your orgasm hitting hard, a shuddering wave that has your pussy clamping around his cock, thighs shaking, nails scratching down his back.

he groans, loud and raw, following you, spilling deep inside with a broken, “shit—babe—” his thrusts slowing as he rides it out, his lips still grazing your skin.

© 𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐪𝐩𝐮𝐟𝐟 | do not copy, plagiarize or translate any of my works.

[vieja-histerica]

You ever maladaptive daydream to some Good Records while doing some menial task, then said menial task requieres a little thinking and fixing before you finally get it back to the initial (if sometimes, improved) menial task. Except now you’ve missed a juicy part of the maladaptive daydream, so you have to rewind all songs until you associate one to your timeline, and start all over from there?

[soangelbaby]

just thinking about newlywed!rafe on ur honeymoon 😣

telling you how much he’s dreamed of making you a mommy—how much he’s imagined you carrying his child. his child. his hand pressed against your belly—skin warm underneath his fingertips as if it’s already there, already real in his head. “you don’t get it,” he grumbles, voice low and rough, almost pleading but there’s also something dangerous underneath. his free hand slides down your side, mapping it out, as if he can already see you full with his baby. “this is supposed to happen—” his lips press against your lips one last time before pulling away to stare into your eyes, looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters. “we’re gonna have a family—you’re my wife now, that means you can’t ever leave me, you know that?”

and if you try to laugh it off? rafe’s grip on you just tightens, jaw clenching, pupils dilating, “nah baby, don’t do that.” his hands are everywhere—possessive and desperate, almost frantic, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. “you think i’m just talking? fuck no—i mean it, baby.” his lips attack your neck again, trailing soft kisses along your skin, igniting every nerve—imprinting himself onto you. “you’d be so perfect pregnant, we’d have the most beautiful kid ever, i can see it now,” he’d mutter against your skin, pulling you in so close because he can’t stand the slightest amount of distance.

now, he has you pressed into the mattress—face down, ass up, pounding into you from behind, in the back of honeymoon suite. his large hand covering the side of your face, thumb hooked into the side of your mouth, and his own band shining in the dim light of the room. “that’s it, baby—take it like my fucking wife,” rafe grits, hips snapping faster, bed creaking beneath you both. your brain’s gone static, all you can do is feel. the pleasure, the pain, the stretch. it’s too overwhelming, all consuming, but that doesn’t stop him. “you married me, baby—you fucking asked for this.” he spits out, panting as he you over, not even bothering to pull out. one hand now tightly gripping your throat, and his other snatching your left wrist before shoving it down between your legs.

“touch yourself with my ring on—show me how i own you,” rafe groans, pulling back just slightly, gripping the base of his dick as he watches you rub lazy circles over your clit. “shit, you look so fuckin’ pretty like this” he kisses you hard, rocking back into you and grabbing your wrist not daring to let you stop. “my girl, my ring, my pussy.” moaning into your mouth, body pressing heavy on top of you, not giving you a second to breathe or think about anything but him. this is different than before, he’s not just fucking you—he’s claiming you, marking you. every inch, every crevice, every crack, every thought, all his—and he loves it. he loves watching you fall apart for him, loves seeing you so dazed out you couldn’t even tell him your name, but he makes sure you know his. the only word on your tongue, along with messy whimpers, babbles, and moans. little chants of ‘raferaferafe’ ever so often escaped your lips. and he watches it like ritual. every expression, every breath, every tremble—he can’t get enough. he makes sure you know this is permanent now—ring or not, this is forever. you are his forever.