question: do ppl ACTUALLY say things they don’t mean when they’re angry? or is that just an excuse after letting something true slip? i wouldn’t ever say something i don’t mean in anger, so the concept confuses me.
but something was said to me that is bothering me, though apparently was said in an argument and wasn’t meant. but i don’t rlly believe it wasn’t like, deep down true thoughts/feelings??? anyone have any insight? anyone say things they don’t mean in anger?
EDIT: this was a hastily worded post that i didn’t expect to get notes. this is a genuine question asked in good faith that i got a lot of amazing answers to!
also re: the many ppl saying “OP is lying about not saying things they don’t mean in anger because everyone does it”— i genuinely have never done that. if i say something mean while angry, i meant it. that’s literally why i asked this question and why the concept confuses me, because i wouldn’t do something like that so i wanted perspective from people who do it. idk why y’all can’t believe that lmao not everyone is as prone to anger and outbursts
34K notes
·
View notes
꒰ ITADORI YUUJI X READER ꒱
minors do not interact—i will block you! cw: gn!reader, rimming (yuuji receiving), male masturbation. note: i have no excuse for this…
“F-fuck,” Yuuji gasps, back bowing off of your shared bed. He strokes himself feverishly, the sticky clicks of his arousal and the loud slurps that tumble from your mouth echoing in the room. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna—”
You pause your ministrations, a thread of iridescent spit connecting your tongue to your boyfriend’s wet, fluttering hole. When you pull away, the string snaps. You shift to lay your head against his muscular thigh, mischievously rubbing the strip of flesh that rests beneath his sack; he shivers.
“You say that like you don’t want to finish.” A mock-pout graces your slick lips while your hand dances up to his balls, fondling the hot, velvety skin.
“Shit.”
He sucks his teeth. His fist slows as it reaches the base of his thick cock, foreskin pulled back, a fresh bead of pre pearling at his flushed tip. You sit up and lean forward to lap at it, dipping your tongue into his slit. A clammy palm catches your cheek as you taste his desire—rich and tangy; he nibbles his lip and smooths a calloused thumb up your cheekbone.
“Keep going—please.”
You reposition yourself between Yuuji’s strong legs. Slowly, you spread him apart—breath kissing his puckered rim—watching it twitch in anticipation. “Ask me again,” you murmur. His frustrated groan earns him an airy chuckle.
You’re a fucking tease, after all.
The man above you could easily overpower you; he could drag you by the hair and slot your panting mouth right where he wants it, using you to get off.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he yields to you. You may not give him what he wants, but you always give him what he needs.
“Baby please,” he whines, voice ragged with desperation. He looks down at you with heavy lids, his gaze molten amber—liquid gold. Dew shimmers at his temples and mats his blush hairline, and a sliver of pink darts out to dampen his lips. “Needa come so, so bad.”
Yuuji barely gets the words out before you finally swirl your tongue around his hole then slip the muscle inside, allowing him to roll his hips and gently buck against your mouth. Each time his ass makes contact with your face, you both moan, and it’s only a matter of moments before he finishes across his spasming abdomen with a cry.
Boneless, your lover nudges you away with his knees, then pulls you on top of himself, chest damp with sweat and heaving against your own.
“Yuu!” you shriek as his tacky spend oozes between your bodies and smears across your belly. He playfully squeezes your hips, burying his head into the crook of your neck.
“All you should worry about is how ’m gonna return the favor,” he mumbles into your skin. Before you can reply, he flips you over onto your back—showing you that a little mess is the least of your concerns.
1K notes
·
View notes
YOU LIE AND I STAY, AGAIN AND AGAIN.
1. letters of sylvia plath | 2. i know im not the only one, sam smith | 3. cut, caitlyn siehl | 4. ask polly: help, im the loneliest person in the world!, heather havrilesky | 5. cool about it, boygenius | 6. driving east (2002), helen frankenthaler | 7. motion sickness, phoebe bridgers | 8. wishbone, richard siken | 9. bicho 87/9 (1987), gego | 10. gilded lily, cults
1K notes
·
View notes
diagnoses u with fanfic tags
yeah i caved. welcome spideysona
their universe is 1990s san francisco. by day they work as a struggling writer for the bugle, sort of following in the footsteps of (movie-adjacent) eddie brock; by night they’re spider-scrawl, fighting systemic injustice, writers’ block, and the occasional mad scientist invention. his world is less rife with supernatural evils than most, but he’s also fucking with the government and corporations and all, so it balances out
their unique thing is that they have, like, shitty meta clairvoyance in the form of inherently understanding tropes, clichés, story structure, etc. like if cinemasins/wins were a superhero. they were approached to join the society because miguel thought they’d be chill or even helpful with canon events—unfortunately scribble here is not whatsoever into following rigid plot structure for the sake of unnecessary thematic suffering, saw the plot twist a miles away, and peaced. but not before snagging a day pass so they could watch atsv in person
they never take off their mask, and no one knows their name—he says it’s because he doesn’t want to lose his identity in a sea of spider-people, leading most to theorize that san-fran-spidey is some flavor of peter parker, but who’s to say for sure? the doylist reason, which he is in fact aware of, is that i don’t know either lol
6K notes
·
View notes