#tw ex relationship

[vilintciay]

" Ohh mmfp- FUCK..! Waka- TOSHI!.. Ahgg- God-."

Your eyes rolled back to the back of your skull, drool seeping out from the corner of your mouth. Above you was Ushijima Wakatoshi, ruthlessly pounding into you from behind, keeping both your arms pinned behind your back with a grip of a single hand as he pressed you further and further into the mattress from how hard he was fucking you stupid.

Your head laid turned to the side, cheek pressed up on cushion below as you gazed up at him with your ass in the air, stood and displayed all for him to bury his thick cock balls deep inside your tight, sloppy wet cunt.

"Ahhg- mnpff- mm- yeah! Ohh fuuckk! Yes, yes, right there!"

You mewled and cried out with pleasure, moaning and whining under him while his expression stood the same. A stoic and blank face with dark and lust filled eyes taking up each bounce and jiggle of your tits, ass, and thighs whenever he'd pull out his thick cock out of your tight cunt, plunging back in hard and rough. Grunting only occasionally.

You were out of it. So fucking out of it that you didn't even notice the sound of your apartment's door opening, light shuffling coming from the living room as someone called out a greeting. But it didn't reach you. Too fucked up and cock drunk that you could only focus on the way his hand would lift in the air to land a harsh and almost skin-tearing smack on your ass, squealing with delight as pain mixed with pleasure, stomach twisting tighter and tighter.

Your orgasm was building up fast, so fast you could barely catch up with your own breathing, slowly coming undone beneath him as you writhe, screaming out his name so loud you weren't surprised if you'd get at least 10 noise complaints from your neighbors. Oh wait.. that's right. This wasn't your house.

With a full body shudder, you felt the knot in your stomach completely burst, squeezing down hard on his pulsing cock as you squirted all over him and the bed below before slumping over and panting. What was I thinking of again?

Oh right, this wasn't my house. This... Wasn't my house?

... Oh. Right. It was his house. But only I didn't live here anymore.

It was only then you'd snap out of your daze, the door to the bedroom opening, your head snapping to look over at the door way. There stood a familiar woman, looking dumbfounded.

"Babe..?"

You were now his ex-girlfriend after all.

[rinhaler]

Don’t You Love It When I Come Around?

Your relationship with him is so toxic. But no matter how hard you try to end things, he always worms his way back between your legs.

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ takuma ino x f!reader

Genre: porn! with a plot! Notes: in january i told u guys to send ino prompts and i would write my favourite and here it is, I'll add the ask below ! Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, dubcon (he's high), toxic relationship, exes to lovers?, rich boy!ino, dacryphilia, pussy eating ♡, light nipple play, vaginal sex, love making ♡, drool ♡, praise, slight orgasm denial, scratching, creampie ♡, manipulation, calls your pussy she/her, pet names (princess, baby/babe, gorgeous etc.) Words: 4.6k

He loves you.

He wouldn’t keep coming back to you with such urgency and wanton if he didn’t love you so ardently. But you ended things, and for the first time there was some finality to the breakup. You’re weak with your will and conviction, usually. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t.

Being second best to every other thing is his life is too hard.

His friends, his family.

Drugs.

You want to be his top priority, but you never will be. It weighs heavy in your heart whenever you’re with him, you don’t feel the type of love you want to feel from him. The kind where you know he’d kiss the ground you walk on and worship your very existence.

Fairy tale love, romance movie love.

He isn’t capable. And it’s taken you too long to realise it.

And usually, you crumble when he begs. His pleas and promises to change always sway you into believing him, despite knowing the truth that he’ll never change for you. He thinks money carries the same weight as love. He thinks his daddy’s credit card is the answer to all of his problems.

He wants to believe you can be bought.

He truly believes that he can buy your subservience with the same unearned money he uses to pay his dealer in fat wads of cash.

The day you met his dealer is the day you think things really began to fall apart between you. He wouldn’t refrain from making lewd comments about you, a fact that has stopped you from going with him to pick up since that first encounter. Your boyfriend didn’t chastise him, no. Instead, he played along. Joking that he’d be willing to share during your most intimate moments or even give you up completely to use as a payment instead of actually paying.

You broke up with him that night, leaving him alone with his friend. He didn’t even bother chasing after you to apologise. He didn’t care enough to check if you were okay, either. It hurt you to think that he was laughing it off with Sukuna, imagining him so nonchalant and uncaring broke your heart.

And you’re lucky you didn’t have to see that you were exactly right.

You can’t even remember why you forgave him that time, it should have been the final straw. He came over, sneaking into your window after your parents turned in for the night. It’s like he’d been waiting for all of the lights to go out. He lifted it, effortlessly, before he stepped inside. He hushed your protests and panic as you worried your parents would hear and before you knew it, he was your boyfriend again.

You jolt from your thoughts as you hear a struggle to your left. Your eyes linger on the window as you notice Takuma try his hardest to lift it open. He looks up and sees you staring, and you recognise something akin to fear sprawled across his pretty face.

He can’t remember the last time you locked the window.

“Baby, please.” he whispers. You shush him, determined to be strong as you approach the window and look at him sternly.

It’s the first time in over a week since you’ve laid eyes on each other, it should have been harder than it was. But you’ve had plenty of practice from when he goes on drink and drug infused benders and doesn’t even bother to send a measly text to let you know he’s alive.

Your fists clench tightly as you hold your parted curtains, though your will begins to dissipate as you see his soft brown stare up at you so pathetically. It feels like love. Maybe one more chance wouldn’t—

“Let me in, baby, ‘m so cold.” he tells you, squatting awkwardly on the roof as he tries to convince you to see things his way. Your blood begins to boil again as you remember how fucking entitled is. Entitled in life and entitled to you. Not this time. “I think it’s gonna—” the metal curtain pole hisses as you abruptly shut them and shut him out of your life for good.

“Go home, Takuma…” you sigh, your own purposiveness decaying as your body seems to crave him, you want to help him, despite knowing you’re being manipulated.

“Oh come on. Don’t do this, princess. It’s starting to rain!” he tells you.

You can’t listen to him. You grab your headphones from your desk and put them over your ears. You quickly scroll through your music library until you find your feel-good playlist and turn the volume to max. Sure you might go deaf in a few years, but it’s better than listening to him do all he can to get you to let him in.

The paranoia of not knowing what he’s doing or saying out there pricks at your skin like needles. Your senses are sharp despite cancelling one of them out. You begin to hear creaks of the window and calls of your name you’re certain you can’t be hearing. Your dad will come to berate you and him if he gets too rowdy. He wouldn’t risk it.

INO: Gonna start singing if you don’t let me in 💕

You learn forward in your seat as you read his message. He’s bluffing, he has to be. And yet, it scares you enough to pull your headphones down while your music continues to play through them. His knuckles are rapping against the window repeatedly without stopping as he waits for you to reply. He gives you a few minutes before the knocking stops, and while you hope he’s given up, you look down at your messages to see three dreaded dots appear.

INO: You’re so cute when you’re mad

INO: What song should I sing?

You freeze as you hear him hum, even over the sound of the rain pelting down against the roof shingles and the glass of your window. It’s a song you recognise instantly, the first song you danced to together when you met at a club two years ago.

“Come on baby, let me iiiiin~!” he speak-sings in tune with the beat and you know it’s only going to get worse. You try to hold strong, you do. The thought of giving him the satisfaction and ultimately the gateway to him winning you back makes your stomach churn, you don’t want to keep being this girl.

But you’ve always been weak when it comes to him.

The shriek of your curtains opening again puts a swift end to Takuma’s singing. His face lights up, and it makes you even angrier. He watches you intently as you unlock the window for him, but you step away to allow him the honour of opening it for himself.

“Shit baby, I’m soaked. Why didn’t you let me in sooner?” he asks, he wrings out his beanie on your bedroom carpet before tossing it aside completely. You roll your eyes as he shuts the window and begins to undress. “C’moooon, you’re not really giving me the silent treatment, are ya?”

You sigh and sit on your bed, carefully taking off your headphones and tucking them back into their protective casing. He barely even looks at you as you tuck your knees up to your chest and observe his every move.

“What do you want Takuma…” you pout. “I told you I don’t wanna see you anymore. Why are you here?” you ask.

He kisses his teeth, the sound makes your skin pinch together and you suddenly feel the harsh chill of the outside breaking in. He smiles at you, his sweet innocent face and warm brown eyes are almost enough to thaw you out.

“You didn’t really mean that, did ya?” he wonders. “Baby, I love you.” he kicks off his shoes and begins to undress. The audaciousness of him is never lost on you, but tonight he’s really something. He sits on the edge of your bed, his back facing you while he moves at a glacial pace.

He’s high. It’s obvious.

The sculptured muscles of his back flex and ripple as he takes off his socks, flinging them without a care in any direction before he stands up to look at you. You swallow, hard, as the buckle of his belt begins to clink before he pulls it out of the belt loops with one hand. Your eyes stay fixed on his as his arm extends and he lets it fall from his grip.

“Bet you’ve missed this dick, baby,” he smirks. “Can see it in your eyes. You’ve missed me.”

You roll your eyes despite his words hitting a nerve. His vision drops as he unbuttons his jeans, missing the way you squirm as you reposition yourself on the bed, tucking your knees further into your chest as you continue to stare while he takes off his clothes.

“Why do you play these games, princess? You know you always come back to me.”

“It’s not a game. I’m done with you, for real this time.” you protest. The way he bites his lip makes you angrier as he climbs on the bed with you, the mattress dipping as he slowly crawls towards you like he has so many times before.

He thinks, he knows everything you say it futile, regardless of how determined you are to not succumb to him for the umpteenth time.

“Take this off, gorgeous,” he demands as his fingers curl into the elastic waistband of your pleated skirt. You shake your head lightly, heart battering in your chest like a drum solo. He snarls, at that, like he hears your heart fighting against your weak defiance. “Suit yourself.” he mutters.

His hands wrap around your thighs and he drags you down the length of the mattress. It takes everything within you not to scream, the thought of being caught by your parents like this makes your whole body sear with heat.

“I’m—” you squeak, a little too loudly. You clear your throat and look at him, your eyes shaking with apprehension and anxiety. He wets his lips as he looks at you, waiting for you to continue. “I’m not fucking you. N-Not tonight. Not ever. Never again, Takuma… I m-mean it. We’re through!”

He sighs, a little pout forming on his lips as he crawls over your body. He cages you beneath him, looking down at you with a moue of dissatisfaction.

“What about a kiss baby? Can I have a kiss, just one?” he asks. His voice is soft and shallow. His honeyed eyes make you crumble as he stares at you with an intensity you’ve never felt from him before. Is it desperation? Is it panic that he’s really losing his grip on you? You can’t even look at him directly, each turn of your head causes him to angle his own so he can continue to stare you down.

And it works.

“Just a kiss.” you mumble, your whole body relaxes when he smiles. It’s such a sweet smile, the one that always adorned his gentle face when you first met. You’ve missed it, dearly.

Your eyes flutter closed as his lips land on yours. It’s chaste, quick, and leaves you wanting more.

“One more kiss, baby. Please?”

You nod, closing your eyes again. You startle when you feel the mattress shift dramatically. Words stay lodged in your throat as you see him on the ground, on his knees, looking up at you between your legs.

“No panties? Must’a known I was coming.” he grins. He flips up the material only slightly. His head disappears beneath the black pleats.

It’s pathetic, truly, the whimper that flees from you when he presses a delicate kiss to your clit. You cover your mouth with your hand, and you even surprise yourself when you feel tears roll down your cheeks.

“Can I kiss her again, princess? Wanna make out with her… do you want me to?” he wonders, repeating the same kiss again… again… and again.

“Y-Yes, Takuma please.” you moan. Your fingers card through his brunette locks, urging him closer to your heat. He complies, desperately. He slowly swirls his tongue over your swollen clit, humming contently as he encourages you to rest your legs over his shoulders.

The pleasure overwhelms you, and you allow yourself to lie comfortably against the mattress. Deep down you knew, you both knew, you were always going to end up like this.

You look between the valley of your breasts when you regain your stability. The shape of his head makes your own begin to spin as you see the material of your skirt move in tandem with his actions. The way he slurps and suckles on your flesh makes it all too clear, you’ll never be able to quit him. Not really, not when he’s so perfect when he’s like this.

Maybe he does love you, maybe all of the things he tells you when you shut him out for so long are indeed true. How else would he be able to ravage you with such vigour and passion? The only time you know him to have drive and patience is in moments like this.

He’s spoilt, but not with you.

He’s a giver, only for you.

Your back arches from the bed when the tip of his tongue targets a particularly sensitive spot between your folds. You moan, you whine, and it only encourages him more. He doesn’t stop when your thighs begin to clamp around his head. It’s more fuel to the fire, you have to smother any and all sounds that want to escape from your body with your hand.

And that, he sees as a challenge.

He holds under the bend of your knee and pushes it, so gently, towards your chest. And still, you feel like the air has been knocked from your lungs. Your skirt is forcibly moved by the action and his face is revealed once more. His eyes glitter and shimmer with expectance and desire as he sees your own face contort from the pleasure he’s forcing upon you.

His lips suction around your clit and he sucks like it’s his sole purpose on earth. Your eyes roll back, and you practically scream into your palm. His hand wanders purposefully to cup your breast. He squeezes experimentally, rubbing his thumb over the material of your top to tease your peaked nipple. The feeling of that is almost enough to make you unravel, your hips jerk at the contact, and he decides to take it further.

He breaches the edge of your crop top, desperate to feel your soft naked mound. Your eyes fill with water and spill consistently as he adds rolling your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger to the intense amalgamation of pleasure.

“Ino… fuck,” you whisper pathetically, freeing your mouth momentarily to utter his name. To warn him. “I’m gonna cum.”

“… I know.” he mumbles before maintaining his efforts. His tongue swipes quickly over your clit, you whimper and your toes can’t help but curl as he doesn’t dare let up.

You grip the sheets below, desperate to hang onto something as you feel your body seconds from exploding. He shushes you between licks, drooling over your cunt as his jaw hangs low for you. You do all you can to keep quiet, but it’s a gargantuan task. Especially when you haven’t felt so good for so long, it’s near impossible.

Your legs begin to quiver as you cum. Your pussy gushes and coats his face further. And for once in his life, he isn’t ungrateful. He savours the taste and laps at your folds like a starving man. And after such a long time apart, that’s exactly what he is. He’s ravenous, he’s missed this. He’s missed you. And he’ll never not appreciate how delicious you are. And it’s all for him.

“Made such a pretty mess for me, baby,” he murmurs into your skin, repeatedly planting delicate kisses against your inner thighs. He doesn’t stop as he gets on top of you, showering your stomach in the same soft kisses. Each one infused with his desire for you. His urgency to force you to remember who you belong to and who you need.

Your legs spread beautifully for him, his throbbing cock rubs against your core, dampening the material of his underwear.

His eyes fixate on yours as he looks for permission to kiss you. And you give it, instantly, humming when his lips slot against yours. His tongue delves into your mouth, his hips begin to rut into you as you make out.

You run your fingers through his hair, interlocking your fingers to keep him close as you continue humping against each other. He breathes heavily as he breaks the kiss, staring down at you with a hurt look in his eye.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him quietly. It makes your blood run cold, the fear of wondering if he’s about to go back to the regular Takuma again. The one you’re all too familiar with, The one that always lets you down.

“… Don’t like it when you call me Ino, baby,” he tells you. It’s earnest, a twinge of disappointment laced in his words.

“All of your friends call you Ino, Ino.” you repeat. It makes your heart race to defy him, you seldom do. You’re the perfect girlfriend until you can’t take anymore, but this is different. You’ve never felt bold enough to do this, to attempt to rile him up.

Never.

“Stop that.” he growls, kissing you again. “You’re not my friend. You’re my girlfriend, alright? Say it. Please.”

“I t-told you… I don’t want you back. Only let you in so you wouldn’t wake my parents.”

He stops. He stands on his knee and looks down at you with a little frown, his lower lip almost jutting as he hears you. You can’t tell if he’s actually sad, or if it’s merely panic. “Do you mean that? You don’t want me back?”

You shake your head, despite it being the opposite of what you want. It’s almost as if you’ve been possessed.

“… So you wouldn’t care if I left right now? You don’t want to fuck?” he continues. You can barely look at him, you’ve never seen him like this before. He might actually be upset, he’s experiencing regret for the first time in his entire life.

“Well… if you wanna go, I won’t stop you Takuma.” you shrug, it comes a little too easily. It feels like a dream, or a nightmare to Takuma. He can’t help but stare as he realises he’s lost his control of you.

A hand rests on your knee, while the other carefully rubs the lower half of his face. He wants to ask again. And again. Is that really what you want? But he’s terrified to even think it, let alone say it. Because what if you are sure? He won’t know what to do, he’s never known you to be like this before. Maybe he took too long to come over this time, he got cocky. Assumptions and greed consumed him. He came back to you when he was ready, but he hadn’t accounted for the fact you might grow a backbone in that time.

He lowers himself again, your noses barely touching before he kisses the tip of it.

“You love me, I know you do baby,” he says, faux confidence lingering in his tone. Though you don’t notice, to you, he’s just confident. The sound of tender kisses littering your cheeks is the loudest sound in the room, even louder than his desperate whispers. “You gotta love me… because I love you. So much, baby, please forgive me.”

He doesn’t let up, like he’s transferring a love potion embedded from his lips to seep into your skin. You mewl at the sensation, never knowing him to be this affectionate before. You know why, the agonising realisation that he lost you has him resorting to this last ditch effort.

And you hate him, because it’s working.

“I’ll always love you more than anyone, y’know. I promise. I’ll be better this time…” he tells you, the same sorry line he’s told you so many times before. “Can I put it in, babe? Please… Please let me feel you close one more time, if ya really mean it.” he begs. He moves his lips to yours, hoping to silence you with a kiss to remember. There’s a hunger to it, a desperate craving that he can’t satiate.

He needs your help.

He needs you.

“L-Last time, okay? I mean it, Takuma, I won’t take you back.”

He stopped listening to you after he heard you agree, honestly. Reaching down to pull his boxers just enough for his cock to spring free. He moans, it’s akin to a whine as it slaps against his abdomen. He’s been hard since he got that first kiss from you, and tasting your slick made him ache for you.

He jerks himself a few times before he slips himself inside of your cunt. His cockhead resting carefully in your entrance. His body moves closer to yours as he sinks in further, you both moan in tandem as you stretch and swallow his cock oh so gloriously.

“S-See, baby? See how perfect I fit? ‘Cause you love me so much, and I love you.” he explains gently holding your jaw in his grip so he can force you to look at him. His hips begin to roll, but he can’t let you enjoy it. Your attempt to throw your head back in pleasure with your eyes scrunched closed is thwarted as his hips instantly slow. “You gotta say it. Say it back, princess.”

“I love you, Takuma…” you say, defeated. “You know I’ll always love y-you.”

“Yeah?” he smiles widely, moving his hips once more. “Always gonna be mine?”

“… always.” you nod.

He kisses you again, his body weight almost suffocating you as he rests on top of you. He fucks every ounce of passion and longing into you. He covers your mouth, sensing it’s too much. But he can’t stop. You don’t want him to, you’ve never felt so whole with him.

You’re too fucked out to notice how badly your bed is creaking. Even with your moans trapped behind Takuma’s palm, he’s sure your parents will know he’s here by now.

“Fuuuuck, you’re choking my fuckin’ dick, baby. Gonna make me cum too fast.” he tells you, kissing your forehead as he slams his hips into yours. “So tight for me… my p-perfect girl, aren’t ya?”

You nod desperately, clenching around him at his every word.

“Want you to cum for me… but,” he rests his forehead against yours, alternating his movements to slow and deep rather than hard and fast. It has you drooling against his palm, but he doesn’t mind. He likes you, loves you, when you’re his braindead princess. “I only make my girlfriend cum.”

Your eyes widen in horror as you realise what he’s trying to do. You wish you could say you regret letting him fuck you again. But it’s too good, you’re lost to it. You’re almost dumb enough to agree.

Almost.

He moves his hand and cups your face, imploring you to look him in his eyes and tell him you’re his again.

“I c-can’t,” you sniffle. “Hurts too much being—”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t say that, princess.” he interrupts, not wanting to hear your thought in full. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. You love me, yeah? Always gonna be my girl. Mine.”

And as if on command, you nod in acceptance. Because he’s right, you will always be his girl. Whether in an official capacity or not. Even the days you’re separated, he’s always on your mind. You worry that weeks, months or even years could pass without him and he’d still be on your mind.

A particular intense stroke inside of your gummy walls makes your body jolt and a heavy moan tears through your throat. He looks down, admiring where to two of you meet before searching your eyes.

“There, baby?” he asks, experimentally thrusting into the same spot. He grins when he hears you keen once again for him, prodding it again and again until your eyes spill over with tears from the blinding pleasure. “Theeeere she is, right there. Bet you wanna cum real bad, ‘cause I do.”

“I do!” you agree, cupping his face gently before kissing him. “I love you, Takuma, please don’t stop,” you whimper.

“I won’t baby, promise.” he assures you. It’s imperceptible, and he’s glad, you can’t see the relief washing over his entire body as he feels safe once again. You’re his, again. There’s nowhere else you should be but with him. “C-Can’t let my girl down, can I?” he grins.

And after everything. All of the hurt, all of the effort, all of the determination, you’re his again. All of that defiance was for nought. And yet, you’re smiling. Your hands helplessly grip his body, nails digging into his shoulder blades as you scratch, attempting to ground yourself.

His lips find yours, eager to silence himself as he brings you both closer and closer to your demise. His breaths are heavy, his nostrils flaring as he continues to pummel into you. Your kiss is sloppy, but perfect. The messy passion heightens your pleasure, somehow. His tongue finding your own reminds you that there’s no one in the world you’d rather be doing this with.

Every plunge of his length against your sweet spot feels like love. Pure, unadulterated, love. Everything you’ve ever wanted, ever needed, from Takuma this time.

And as you cum together, moaning into each other’s mouths, that feels deeper. He looks into your eyes as he fills you to the brim, your walls clench around him, desperate to keep him inside and milk him for all he’s worth. You never want this feeling to end, he’s the man of your dreams.

He kisses your neck as he continues to fuck himself inside of you, making sure to deposit every last drop of his love into you. He feels it too, it feels different to how it usually is.

Better, somehow.

The pecks of his lips slow as he ventures towards yours again. Each kiss is interpolated with ardour. He doesn’t want to risk stopping for fear of all of this coming undone. He doesn’t want you to see sense, again. Despite what you might think, he is in love. A love so intense he couldn’t begin to explain.

He eventually pulls away, bracing himself for what you might say.

But nothing comes.

He’s grinning from ear to ear because you don’t say a word. Not one. But your expression says it all. You look exhausted, but fulfilled. You look beautiful as bliss ravishes your drained form. However even without all that, he only needs to look into your eyes to see it.

You really are his girl again.

He can practically see the hearts shimmering in your irises. You’re looking up at him like you’ve fallen for that signature Takuma charm once again, but are you really so foolish? Even he is a little surprised.

He wants to do better, of course he does. And maybe this time he’ll really try. He doesn’t mean to let you down so often, it’s not like he wants to do it.

That’s just the type of guy he is.

The type to make promises he can’t keep.

© 2024 rinhaler

anon: okay but imagine ino sneaking in your bedroom every once in a while and fucking you into forgetting he's an absent boyfriend, he's always smoking with his friend (plug! sukuna *cough cough*) he's a trust fund baby, and the worst boyfriend ever but dick game is so good he has you thinking you can fix him, so every time you let him hit you are looking at him with heart eyes and it almosttt makes him want to do better

[sleeplessdreamer14]

(cw: abuse (and humanized! bill))

if you recognize the reference congrats! have a cookie 🍪

[lovemyex]

[dy-mph-na]

A poem about somebody with ASPD from the POV of their victim after they've moved on.

[cervinae-canine]

is it fair to call people like this "hack writers" if the only way they find a relationship interesting is when it involves pedophilia, incest, cannibalism or necrophilia?

[teenagepillpopper]

I cant stop crying over you, I cant stop and it’s killing me entirely.

[even-disco-baby]

YOU — “No. There is still a chance.”

DOLORES DEI — “You think so?” Her voice is weary.

EMPATHY — Everything about her is weary. She is the Innocence of weariness, of heroically borne suffering.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — That is the picture you have painted for yourself, at any rate.

YOU — “You looked back. That’s the memory, the moment, that I can’t stop returning to. You looked back. I had a chance, for just that moment…”

DOLORES DEI — She meets your eye, gaze still forever cast back over her shoulder. Time stops. The stars are stilled, the ocean silent. There is *nothing* beyond this memory. Nothing at all. All of infinity is contained in this single moment when anything and everything was possible.

“Oh, Harry…” She sighs, soft as eiderdown. “We never had any chance.”

And just like that, the wave of time collapses under its own weight, obliterating everything. This moment was six years ago. She is gone from here. Gone, gone…

PAIN THRESHOLD — You cannot leave. There was nothing outside of this moment, and now there is nothing at all. It’s all gone. There is no point. I’m sorry. I can’t do this any longer.

VOLITION — Please, don’t say that…

“Okay. Well, fuck me, then.”

“How would *you* know?! You gave up! You didn’t even try!”

“We *must* have had a chance, at some point… Doesn’t everyone get a chance, if nothing more?”

“How could you say that…?”

DOLORES DEI — “Because it’s true,” she says, matter-of-fact. “There is no moment in time that you can turn back to, no branching paths, no infinity. There is only what happened. I looked back… and then away.” She closes her eyes, turning her back to you.

“The moment ended. *We* ended. That is all.”

SHIVERS — A wave crashes against an unseen shore, ocean spray tickling the back of your neck. You shiver, but no one shivers with you. You are alone in this intersection. Why are you here?

“Why can’t *I* end?! Why can’t this all just stop? Please, make it stop…”

“Ended? I’ve barely even started! I got a chance to start completely over as somebody new! I don’t need you anymore! You’re just dead weight to me now.”

“No. That wasn’t the real ending. We’re a part of something so much bigger than this intersection, telling a story that encapsulates all of history! There’s *more* to this, it *means* something.”

“Then… What am I supposed to do now…?”

DOLORES DEI — “No, Harry.” She turns back to you again now, and she looks… sad.

“We were not metaphors. We were people. Our narrative was not intelligently designed. It simply followed the patterns of history, because those are the only patterns we *know.* We tried to create something new, but we failed. There is no narrative reward for our failure, no satisfactory ending. There is only the immutable past and the unknowable future.”

RHETORIC — There is no assurance of what is good or deserved or what may bring relief. There is no assurance of punishment, either. There is no assurance of anything. Not even of a future. I don’t know what to say to make this bearable.

VOLITION — Even so… As long as you live, *something* is promised. Can you live with that?

I can’t, I just can’t do this anymore…

I can. It’s enough.

I don’t know. I just don’t know.

I can at least try for a little longer…

VOLITION — That’s all I ask. That’s enough.

[fyodior]

i think the reason i cling to male characters so much despite being sapphic is that im like literally obsessed with the idea of a man loving me and being nice to me. something that has never occurred

[sappho-favourite-pupil]

Fun fact: i'll do everything and more for the one i love, but the very moment i'll feel like they are not appreciating it, i will just get sad. Like, really sad, and - no matter what they say - convince myself they don't love me anymore.

[sassywiththesas]

You're my unwanted notification.

[vilintciay]

“Baby, you have no idea what I want, no idea what I need. I don't want to be your friend, I don't want to start over again. I want to fuck you until you can't walk straight, until the only thing you can think about is my cock buried deep inside this tight little cunt.

I want to be the man who fucks you so hard and so good that you'll never even think about being friends with me again. I want to ruin you for all other men, want to make it so that the only thing you can think about is being my personal fuck toy. So shut the fuck up and take it.”

!TOXIC EX BF!; OIKAWA, KYOUTANI, ATSUMU, Futakuchi, Semi, TENDOU, Suna, Matsukawa, IWAIZUMI, TERUSHIMA, Daishou, Osamu.

[campgender]

from A Well-Trained Wife: My Escape from Christian Patriarchy by Tia Levings (2024)

There was a new course at church recommended by Dr. John F. MacArthur, president of the Southern Baptist Convention and friend to Dr. Vines. Gary and Anne Marie Ezzo attended MacArthur’s church and wrote Preparation for Parenting and Growing Kids God’s Way. Signing up to attend the course seemed as natural and innocuous as registering at Toys “R” Us for a crib.

Anne Marie was a NICU nurse and her experience informed the medical advice. She wore a puritanical black dress with an oversized lace-trimmed collar. She giggled and deferred to Gary, and I struggled to imagine how she handled herself in a neonatal nursery. I recognized her Fascinating Womanhood hallmarks with mixed feelings. How could I take a woman who coos seriously?

The Ezzos started with sin. Infants are born with a sinful nature, one of the base elements of the depravity of man. While newborns don’t make cognitive decisions about moral rights and wrongs, they’re biologically affected by sin at birth. Left to their own with weak mothers, they’ll break the marriage and ruin the family.

I read the chapters carefully. As a nanny, I wasn’t worried about newborn care. But I feared sleepless nights. A tired Allan was an unhappy Allan. I needed to fix that before it happened.

The Ezzos said our happiness came down to how I fed the baby. The secular world encouraged feeding a baby “on demand” with attachment parenting.

“Mothers are told to endlessly carry their babies, sleep with them, breastfeed them day and night without any regard to routine. They exalt the child as the center of the family universe.” The Ezzos said husbands had to watch out for this evil.

Parent-directed feeding was his solution. Feed the baby when they wake up, interact a little, and then lay it down for a nap. This predictable pattern was neither a schedule nor chaos, and it stabilized the hunger/sleep cycles for proper infant management—essential for keeping the peace.

I studied and highlighted the pages. If I got it wrong this time, I wouldn’t be the only one who paid for it now.

excerpt 2:

Gary Ezzo was fired from Grace Community Church and he and Anne Marie were dropped by their publisher after babies parented with their program suffered malnutrition and failure to thrive.

[donaviolet]

Friendship is the most special thing in the world because no award could be give me bigger happiness than jumping around in my room and smiling because my pookie asked me if I wanted to match pfps

[theshoesofatiredman]

I'm revisiting a part of The High School Survival Guide: Making the Most of the Best Time of Your Life (so far) by Adam Palmer. It's a Christian book despite the fact that the title makes it seem totally areligious, and I read parts of it when I was in high school. It was the first time I ever read about being gay in a book. I found a free version online and while I didn't think the Bible could shock me anymore my mouth dropped open at this:

Apparently the MSG version of this passage really says the quiet part out loud. Gay people aren't even human / lose the knowledge of how to be human. Not sure how that works. There's such a dissonance between the tone of this verse and the tone of the text in the book too.

GEE I WONDER WHY??? How strange that Christians, who believe their sacred text claims that homosexual acts strip people of God, love, and their humanity, view homosexuality as 'icky' and 'gross.' In fact, I would think they'd think much worse in that scenario and treat gay people far worse. In fact, it kinda seems like you're downplaying the absolutely brutal treatment and systemic discrimination of gay people that was carried out in the name of Jesus.

And all of this is being aimed at (presumably Christian) teenagers who think they might be gay. There's no real advice here other than to surrender to god and to seek accountability.

I was keenly aware as a gay Christian that I was at the center of a culture war I did not want to be a part of. People out beyond my religious community were fighting for an acceptance and celebration of homosexuality that I thought was harmful and sinful. People inside my religious community had all kinds of incorrect ideas about gay people and I didn't think there was much space for me to be "out of the closet" even if I stayed single, celibate, and god-fearing. And I had no idea what to do about any of it.

I didn't come out to anyone until after high school. I prayed and I prayed and I prayed, and the weight was still heavy. God did not make it easier, did not lift the burden of homosexuality from me. I had plenty of accountability in my life, constantly watched by helicopter parents with Internet filters, confessing sin regularly in men's groups (both before and after I started to tell people I 'struggled with same-sex attraction). 'Accountability' only served to intensify my shame.

The only time things got easier was when I started to take God out of the equation, when I started to see my sexuality as a part of myself to embrace rather than excise. Christians will drone on and on about how Christ sets people free from their sins. In my experience, to be free of my sin I had to first be free of Christ.

[elliesspacee]

My ex told me when we were still together that he thinks scars are attractive.

Oh honey, I have a lot of them. (probably the only hot thing about my body)