#i'm simping hard

[stressyviv]

I started playing Wuthering Waves and just got through Jiyan's story quest...

Oh my god, I need to give this man at least three hugs, ten kisses, and one spooning session a day.

I love him.

[le-panda-chocovore]

It's sometimes hard to believe that Gojo and Geto are actually THAT beautiful

Like it's not even fanarts, they're perfect in canon

[holyblanchett]

The fact that canonically Lady Death who is a Cosmic being said Agatha Harkness is her scar.

[crispyanonart]

IneffableWives!AU where it's been the girls all along and Crowley and Aziraphale get to just be two queer men running their businesses in Soho and being married because they are not bound by godly plans and duties and whatever those entails

[oneiroy]

she miiiight have fallen into the water

[ps-cactus]

[rosecandyart]

How is she so cool

[ghostcupdraws]

Blissful silence (he’s taking a yapping break)

[yippeey]

Chat, i'm sorry but listen to me, hear me out on this one.

I'd let this cosplayer skin me alive, run me over and eat my organs and i wouldn't even complain, like yes queen slay 🙏🙏🙏

@speakofthedebbie please tell me you would too i can't be the only one, simp with me

[sheepsgf]

This is Sunghoon's look for me

[jackfileo0]

I woke up at 3 am with an obsessive thought: how would Bellatrix look like with short hair

[sulky-cabbage]

I'm getting anxious now that I can sense Sukuna's death drawing near. I hope Gege gives him a decent death—one that is gentle, and not humiliating. (Even if he doesn't deserve it)

I hope he gets to meet Gojo one last time.

Imagine Satoru playfully mocking him for losing to Yuji, and Sukuna simply gives him that soft look (TM) while saying that the damage he dealt him is the only reason they were able to succeed asdfghkdfht

[bastardofodin]

I can fix him. No seriously, I can fix him.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Found a new media. I will read all the fanfiction this site has to offer for said media.

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

DARK CREAM WEEK: day 5- punish/reward

idk man i think your threats would work a lot more often if you stopped being so handsome about it fdrgbegh<333

dark cream week and comic are by @zu-is-here

[revasserium]

lie to me

harrison; 1,872 words; fluff and a bit of angst; fem!reader a/n: in which harrison tells you five lies and just as many truths

01.

“lie to me.”

“i love you.”

“ah, but that’s an easy one — how could you be in love with someone you just met, right?”

you smile, lacing your fingers under your chin as he looks you over, the smile on your lips simple and sweet and somehow unsettling in its simplicity. there’s something hidden there — he knows it. he just doesn’t know exactly what it is yet and… that in and of itself is intriguing enough to warrant a second glance, a second’s pause.

“go on, isn’t this supposed to be what you’re good at?” you ask, cocking your head, your eyes never leaving his.

harrison feels himself being drawn into you, the unflinching way you meet his gaze, the seemingly indomitable nature of your curiosity, your striking, painful honesty. ah — so is that what it is? has he gotten so used to the truth hidden beneath the lies that seeing truth hidden behind another veneer of truth has become strange? certainly, it’s not something he sees everyday but…

“alright then — i don’t love you, but i think that maybe i could —”

eh?

you blink, but harrison is already pursing his lips with a shrug, pushing up from where he’d been sitting across from you, your coffee mugs still steaming.

“there, ponder that one for a while, hm?” he grins, shooting a lazy wink your way, “and… that confused look on your face… i don’t hate it, y’know.”

02.

“lie to me.”

“my favorite color is yellow.”

“well, mine’s green.”

harrison looks up at you from across a piece of perfectly buttered toast, his mouth halfway open, watching as you slather your slice of toast in a truly impressive amount of jam. you’re humming to yourself and when you glance up to find him watching you, you shrug.

“what?”

harrison smiles, shaking his head, “nothing. just… ah — nevermind.”

“no, tell me.” you take a huge bite of toast and he can’t help the way his eyes snag on the smear of jam on your lower lip or the way your tongue sweeps out to lick it up.

“nope. don’t wanna.” he takes his own rather large bite of toast, washing it down with a sip of coffee that’s just a bit too hot.

“even if i say ‘please’?”

harrison pauses, considers. and then he smiles.

“for a second there, i just thought you were… cute.”

your blush makes something warm and tight unfurl in his chest. but you narrow your eyes and the tension inside his chest lightens ever so slightly.

“saah… was that a lie or was it the truth?” he muses, reaching out to tap a finger to the center of your forehead, making you blink, “well, you can believe whatever you want to believe. i don’t mind it either way.”

03.

“lie to me.”

“i actually don’t really like lying.”

you pause over the still-warm cranberry scones, your hand hovering over the butter dish.

“then why do you do it?”

harrison licks his lips, his eyes fixed on yours. he feels the beginnings of something cresting from his stomach up into his chest, over his shoulders, down the length of his back. it’s a strange thing, a nearly foreign sensation. but it leaves his whole body a mess a livewire tingles, and it makes him wonder about stupid things like truth and trust and belonging.

“because… it’s easy, i suppose.”

you nod, slowly breaking off a corner of a scone, and applying a liberal amount of butter to it before offering it to him. on the windowsill, there’s a vase full of bright yellow tulips, freshly picked and watered.

“my parents always said that if you tell a lie enough times, it starts to sound like the truth.”

“hm… they sound like smart people.” he reaches out to take the bit of proffered scone, popping it into his mouth and savoring the sweetness.

you watch him with a grin, “they were.”

a moment passes, and then another; harrison reaches for the sugar bowl at the same time you do and your hands brush. you pause; so does he. and then — laughter, as he pushes the bowl towards you and you shake your head, nudging it back.

“three sugars, right?” you ask, watching as he drops the cubes into his coffee and stirs.

“what can i say? i’ve got something of a sweet-tooth.”

“yeah. i know you do.”

04.

“lie to me… please — t-tell me everything’s gonna be okay.”

there’s blood everywhere, and the world is around you is a blur of rain and shadows. the streetlamps cast the air in a hazy glow and it would be beautiful, if it weren’t so deeply, horrifyingly terrible.

you cradle harrison to your chest, a hand pressed to the side of his stomach, where a sickeningly hot stream of blood is pouring from a bullet wound, your other hand holding his head upright.

“i — i think i’m gonna die,” he says, forcing a weak smile as he raises a hand to cup your cheek.

“h-harry! that’s not — that’s not funny —” but you can’t help the watery laugh that bubbles from your lips.

“you — you told me to lie to you… right? so…”

you bite back a sob even as it rips itself from your throat and you shake your head.

“y’know… you’ve gotten s-so bad at this…”

harrison’s own laughter is stuttered through with coughs. more blood, painting the soft of his lips so bright it almost looks like lipstick or strawberry jam. you reach up your hand to wipe it away, smearing the red across his cheeks.

he catches your hand in his, and the cliché of the moment hits you like a runaway train, veering off it’s tracks — the rain, the blood, the falling in love.

“what… at lying? ah… i guess that’s true… hey… look at me…” he presses his blood-stained lips to your hand before resting it along his cheek, holding it there even as more blood gurgles out of the side of his mouth. you try to tug your hand to wipe it away but he holds you tight, holds you dear.

“there you are…” he says, his eyes flickering over the plains of your face, “i su-suppose you might make an honest man of me yet…”

you shake your head again, fervent and desperate.

“no — i d-don’t want that — harry, please — you can’t —”

“m-my favorite color… didn’t used to be yellow… but now it is… and… i never did like lying… but i hated doing it to you… and… i never thought i could fall in love but… here i am… so there — i — i think that’s most of them —”

“harry, what are y-you doing?”

“i’m… telling you the truth. now… your turn — lie… lie to me.”

you let out another sob as you see the light from his eyes slowly fading, even as the distant sounds of shouting alert you to the ambulance racing your way.

“i-if you die, i swear to god, harry — i’ll chase you right into the gates of hell and pull you back with me —”

harrison laughs, his hand falling from yours, his lashes fluttering as his gaze goes wide and glazed.

“now that’s a lie… i’d be happy to believe…”

05.

when harrison next wakes up, it’s to a nearly pitch-black hospital room and a solid weight somewhere to his right. he lets out a soft groan and looks down to find… you, with your face pillowed on your arms, fast asleep by his bedside.

“she’s been here for three whole days.” victor’s voice is light but for once devoid of it’s usual levity.

“ah… of course she has.” harrison reaches out to run his fingers through your hair, a smile stretching his lips at the way your brows furrow slightly, your body shifting as he traces a thumb along the contours of your cheek.

“try not to excite her too much… she’s barely been eating or sleeping so who know’s — her heart might give out if you give her too big of a shock.” and with that, victor tips his head and slips from the room, leaving the two of you very much alone.

harrison revels in the quiet, in the patient pace of your breaths, the rise and fall of his own chest, his own miraculous heartbeat mapped in bright green spikes on a screen to his left. and he wonders briefly how quickly it’d have to beat before it would alert the nurses but —

“h-harry? oh… oh my god — you’re awake!”

“hm… really? ah, and here i was, thinking this was all a dream.”

you bury your face in his chest, gasping when he winces, but he chuckles and tugs you back towards him, his seafoam eyes so bright even in the relative darkness.

“i — i thought…”

“what? that i was dead? c’mon… i’m not that easy to get rid of.”

you bite your lips, shake your head, your eyes welling up with tears as you once again bury your face in his chest, this time careful to avoid his still tender wounds. he hushes you as you hiccup, running a soothing hand through your hair, down the back of your neck.

“i’m just… so glad y-you’re alive…”

harrison grins, cocking his head as you pull back to look at him, your eyes wide and watery and so, so beautiful. it’s unfair, he decides, that you should still look so daringly beautiful like this.

“come here… there’s something i need to tell you…”

you blink at him for a moment before allowing him to beckon you closer, to wrap his arms around you and skim his lips by your cheek till he’s whispering in your hear —

“i… i don’t love you… not even a little bit.”

and for a second, you freeze, your whole body going cold, but when you pull back, there’s a smile on harrison’s lips that makes you roll your eyes. you let out a soft little sigh, pillowing your cheek on his chest as he absently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“wow… when did you become such a terrible liar?”

at this, harrison laughs, and he hisses at the pain but he doesn’t stop laughing, and a moment later you join him, and the pair of you fall into the waves and waves of laughter until he tilts your chin up to press his lips to yours.

“if i had to guess…” he muses as he pulls back, running the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip, his eyes flickering from your kiss-bruised mouth up to your shock-widened eyes and back down again, a distinctly fox-like grin stretching his lips.

“i’d say that it was the day that i met you.”