#anyways enjoy my hcs

[1800nosleep]

tlb hc, dwayne n paul defo go to the beach when marko and david are busy and the two just talk, paul is always concidered a himbo and stoner but i think he is very philosophical and thats something that dwayne can get with

[amelia-yap]

surprisee

[remxedmoon]

boo! old woman jumpscare

greyscale vers below!

[pennumbra]

Polished up an old sketch! Some friendly kitchen competition between Adira and Varian. (Hector is off-screen peeling potatoes.)

[kasterarts]

Moving Forward. (Spoilers for YTTD up through 3-1b)

[the-lovely-lady-luck]

the delivery of this in the theater killed me and i havent seen anyone posting it so heres a very shitty gif made from the 2 seconds of trailer that include the line.

[otome-dissection]

Idk man I just think that mizu/ena5 and its progression was really beautiful actually. I just think that the release of the ena5 song was also really beautiful and kind of the nail in the coffin for me and I haven't been able to get the event(s) out of my head all week and that I kind of want to talk about it, actually.

It's about being hurt so deeply and continuously that any kindness that could be offered to you manages to feel like a sin, that it makes you crumble and shatter but for all the wrong reasons, not because of the newfound safety, not out of relief, but something worse and more deeply ingrained in you than kindness ever was. It's about carefully measuring the distance at which you keep others away from yourself, to ensure that it never happens again ("To save yourself the trouble", if that makes it easier).

It's about realizing that the people you've been spending all this time with are drifting closer, that they just might bump up against the unsightly parts of yourself that you've tried to keep locked away, it's about turning around and sprinting at full speed and slamming the door shut and holding onto the handle behind you to stop it from turning, because you're as frightened of the possibility of another wound being inflicted on you as you are of the possibility that kinder, gentler hands will reach out and smooth over the exposed scar. It's about hating eyes that judge and silently condemn you as much as you hate eyes that simply see you and take all of you in without scrutiny, because no matter what they're looking and they're looking at you and they know that your hand's on that door handle and they know that you're hiding something because, as much as you try to keep it shut, they've seen through the crack that you foolishly left open.

(The prominence of eyes in Bake no Hana, specifically eyes looking and searching, and finally landing on you, the viewer, Mizuki, is so fucking. Visceral in my opinion. Every character in the MV stares at the viewer in a deadpan, almost judging way. Even though Mizuki knows deep down that niigo won't really hate them, won't judge them, she just can't stand their kindness either; any gaze directed at her is a loss, another prick in their skin. It screams "don't look at me" while making sure that you know, with horrific certainty, that they're looking for you, that you're being watched. You can't go outside, can't leave your room, because they're searching for you, and while that should be reassuring, to you it's anything but).

It's about not wanting to be dissected, whether it's with hands that want to pull your organs apart or stitch them back together because no matter what they're there, and they're getting frighteningly close to your heart. It's about blinding yourself and covering your eyes to it all because seeing means exposure and exposure means they're taking something from you and you can't do anything about it, much less take it all back, much less have a say in the matter. Everyone's just taking and taking and taking and you wish you could just be alone. You wish everyone would just disappear and you could live in a world all to yourself, for only yourself (but is that really what you want?).

It's about the way that, near the beginning of the Yoka ni Mitoreta MV, Mizuki and her loneliness is represented as a dark, splotchy stain in the shadows. No colors, no patterns, no way to clean it or wash it all away, just raw ugliness marring a blank canvas. It's about the way that Ena reaches out to it anyway, the way she startles when the glass shatters just when she finally starts reaching forward, the way that the rest of the MV/song represents her searching for and reaching only further out to Mizuki, even if the broken shards of glass will only cut her fingers, potentially leaving scars.

It's about how, in every way, subtly, directly, consciously, and subconsciously, Ena shows that she fucking cares.

It's about the way that Ena lets Mizuki have autonomy, despite the situation being so horribly out of their control. And it's such a delicate thing: If she really wants to, Mizuki can take the opportunity to just run away, keep running forever, repeat the cycle over and over, and maybe she'll just destroy herself with it again, but it can't be denied that it's something important to them, something she can't quite live without just yet, their means of survival. Mizuki's autonomy is their identity, it's her tailoring her own clothes and choosing her own ribbons and styling her own hair the way she does. Ena letting them have that is as much about trust as it is about understanding that Mizuki of all people should have this right, when control was something stripped from her throughout so much of her life. She couldn't control how she was born, how people look at her or why, can't control what they think of her; lacking control has only left Mizuki vulnerable to the cruelties of others, has only caused them to suffer, which is why it's so important that it's given to them now.

She had the control to make the choice to see niigo's welcoming love and run away instead of staying, and she has the control to make the choice now whether she wants to keep things the way they are or take a step forward to be at their side again. She has every right to have it, and I think the fact that Ena realizes and respects that, even if it's subconsciously, is really beautiful (there is an entire fucking Verse about this in the new song and just. God Look at this. It's so caring, unconditional, and for fucking What. I think there is something to be said about how much Ena is willing to put aside for Mizuki, and maybe deep down it isn't healthy, but for now I'm just kind of in awe)

It's about how insanely patient Ena has been this whole time. Mizuki says that she basically lied to Ena's face about telling her their secret, even after Ena said with such conviction that she would wait for Mizuki as long as it takes, and Ena is just kept waiting and waiting and worrying like this seemingly indefinitely. It's about how Mizuki danced around it, avoided it, kept the distance, straight up ran when she was finally pushed, but Ena still chased anyway when she saw that she couldn't wait anymore, kept chasing just enough to intervene and get a straight answer out of Mizuki when she really needed to, but still leaving her enough space to leave if that was truly what she wanted. It's about how relieved Ena is the moment that Mizuki finally says outright how much they want to be with her and niigo, how much she wants to try, how much more light Ena's voice sounds when she grabs her hand, relieved, the way that the relief she feels can be felt through the music, throughout the entirety of Yoka ni Mitoreta, the way that warm colors always follow her when she chases after Mizuki, just to hold onto her and stop her from running away completely.

It's about how that careful combination of Ena's directness, Ena's persistence, Ena's warmth, her patience, her bluntness about her feelings, the way she chases and holds on but not too tight and her regard for how unsafe and exposed Mizuki feels actually works and breaks it all down. It's about how she really did reach through to Mizuki, despite the thorns and broken glass shards and nearly-unfulfilled promises, the way that Mizuki did finally let her turn the door handle and step through to see what she'd been hiding all this time, the way that Mizuki's hand, limp, when Ena first grabs onto it, shifts to hold hers back as they cry in the face of Ena's gentleness.

Despite how harsh Mizu/Ena5, and even Ena herself as a character can be (or at least was in the very beginning of pjsk), everything is somehow gentle and warm in the end, blindingly so. And you know what, I think that's beautiful. And what's even more beautiful than that is how Mizuki allows themself to crumble and shatter under that kindness, that warm light, but this time, finally, out of relief.

On a final note, I just want to say that I also appreciate how all that didn't have to solve everything. The scars haven't disappeared, haven't gone away, and Mizuki knows that their desire to run hasn't gone away forever, and maybe it never truly will. But for now they've calmed it, at least a little. She's learning to allow herself to be seen, learning that when someone's fingertips brush over their scars the way Ena's did that it's only out of care, and that maybe taking in that care and allowing herself to feel kindness and safety is okay. They're safe, for now, somehow. They're learning. They're trying. And I think that's cool :)

[neatnete]

[ok-pop-1]

@sapphicseasapphire your mer time... he grabbed me by the throat...

[formosusiniquis]

any cosmo girl would have known

“Oh she did it for sure.”

“Steve!”

“Ten bucks, Bobert, don't give me that look last time we agreed double or nothing.”

“No,” Nancy insists. “This isn't Murder, She Wrote or Scooby-Doo or Columbo-”

“You saw who did it in Columbo at the beginning,” Eddie reminds.

“I know it's an awful show.”

Robin and Steve remain in sync enough to each get a hand on his shoulder to keep him from getting on the coffee table to defend the only good cop show in existence.

“I'm only pointing out,” she rewinds the VHS taking it back the two or three minutes they'd talked over before stopping it completely, “that this is a movie, not a drama with a repeated format that Steve can pattern recognition into predicting.”

“You haven't seen it already, right?” Robin asks. “The one rule of Monthly Middle-Aged Movie Night is you have to pick a movie none of us have seen.”

“No, I haven't seen it already. If you'll all remember when I asked you each to go see it with me I got,” he points to each of them in turn. “‘Wouldn't you rather see Tomb Raider?’ from double VHS, prestige cinephile and ‘That's too much pink for me, baby, you know I have that intolerance, maybe Rob or Nance will go?’ from my emo-isn’t-a-phase husband. And ‘I'm a little busy with this new story, Steve,’ from Nancy, the only one of you with a real excuse.”

“Some feminist you are, Birdie.”

“I don't want to hear it from you. I watched two of the blandest men alive pursue Renee Zellweger while the screen writers tried to convince us she was homely because you ‘forgot’ you had band practice.”

“You said you liked it!”

“It grew on me, but sometimes you just want to see a woman in a tank top. And I won't be shamed by the same man who cried during Beauty and the Beast.”

“I went with my sweet baby Lucy Joan, you miserable hag,” Eddie says, “and they turned that hot werewolf into a boring looking man.”

“You weren't into that? Look at who-”

“Why am I getting made fun of? Can we finish the movie?”

“No, I'm not going to let this be another Sixth Sense situation,” Nancy says, holding the remote hostage, she knows no one will try to take it from her.

“Ugh don't even bring that up,” Eddie groans, “Dustin still mentions it in at least one letter a year.”

Nancy nods, prim and proper, “Exactly, so tell us right now why you think she did it, then we'll play it again.”

“Chutney, the daughter,” Steve corrects, “have you even been paying attention? Her hair's permed.”

“And press play,” Eddie shouts.

“No,” Robin smacks his hands as he makes his ballsy play to reach around her for the remote. “Show your work, Dingus, even I didn't follow that one.”

“I don't always like the movies everyone else picks but I at least watch them. Her hair is permed, she said she was in the shower. She would have had to have been washing her hair if she didn't hear the gunshot and she has a perm.”

“You can wash your hair with a perm,” Nancy points out.

“You would know.” Eddie snarks, fingering the ends of his own hair.

“You can't wash a fresh perm, you'll fuck up the ammonium thioglycolate. Then you're out forty bucks and you've got limp hair. She killed her dad and lied about being in the shower.”

“Press play,” Eddie decrees again, leaning in close to Steve's side to purr, “it's pretty sexy when you go all hair care detective.”

His hand starts to slip below the blanket. “This is how we ended up with Lucy in the first place,” Steve reminds him, just under the sounds of the courtroom drama picking back up. It doesn’t stop Eddie’s hand from wandering until the movie’s climax starts getting closer, and Eddie’s attention is captured just like Robin’s and Nancy’s.

“Unbelievable,” Robin says, when Elle cites the perm salt.

“Never again,” Nancy swears, when Chutney screams her confession.

“Lucy’s been asking for a brother or sister,” Eddie flirts, as Elle reveals that any good Cosmo girl could have solved it.

No more movies with mysteries or twist endings for a while, they all agree, Robin can’t afford to keep betting against Steve.

[aulerean]

please hold :)

[1800nosleep]

the outsiders hcs !!

darry doesnt not enjoy everyone over at the house. he knows that everyone likes the hang out there but the memories from before his parents death always come back to haunt him

[saewokhrisz]

he two troublemakers of kanezaka both having green hair cannot be a coincidence ....

bonus live hanzo reaction under the cut:

[momomallowart]

Human curling iron + gamer who doesn't stop yapping ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ

Here's a version without the text + a closeup too 🫶💗

[sharksnshakes]

Open Arms - John "Soap" MacTavish

Soap might be the tiniest bit jealous of the throw pillows you nap with. You might just have to do something about that.

A/N; can someone please give soap a hug

Wordcount; 605

TW; none... but beware of tooth rotting fluff

"Why don' you hold me like that, huh?"

You blink a few times, swallow twice. Freshly awoken from a nap, your mind is still foggy, and you glance halfheartedly towards the sound of the voice--your boyfriend, Johnny MacTavish--with bleary eyes.

As you fully come to, you see him sitting at the opposite end of the couch, an amused expression on his face.

It takes you a moment to speak. "Huh?"

"I said," he repeats, leaning back on the cushions and giving you a sideways glance, "Why can' you hold me like that?"

Your brows furrow.

He rolls his eyes teasingly in response, gesturing to the throw pillow you have clutched in your grip. It's drawn close to your chest, chin hooked over the edge.

"You're talking about the pillow?" You ask drowsily, voice equal parts teasing and confused. "You're jealous of a pillow? I didn't take you for the type."

"Och, shut up," he chuckles, waving a dismissive hand in mock irritation.

You take a breath, momentarily shut your eyes, and stretch out on the cushions like a cat in sunshine. When you look up at Johnny again, his attention is elsewhere, looking at something on his phone. Frowning softly at the sight, you nudge the edge of his thigh with your foot.

He glances over at you, a brow raised. "Yeah, lass?"

You wordlessly pat the empty space on the cushion beside you.

This time, your boyfriend's the confused one. "What?"

"C'mere," you say, dropping the throw pillow to the ground and making a show of stretching your arms open.

His eyes glitter with amusement. That familiar, easy smile is tugging at the corner of his lips again. "Y'really don' have to. I was just jokin' with you."

"Lucky for you, I take everything seriously," you banter back, patting the cushion once more.

After a moment's hesitation, Johnny shifts to face you fully. "And... you're sure about this?" He asks, biting the inside of his lip. His gaze catches on your open arms, your sleepily determined expression. "You're positive?"

You don't miss his hesitance. When you speak again, you're mindful to keep your tone soft and inviting. "I wouldn't offer unless I wanted it."

You watch him swallow, Adam's Apple bobbing before he finally bridges the gap and settles himself within your open arms. There's not enough room for the two of you to lay side by side, so you lay flat on your back, Johnny sprawling overtop of you like some sort of weighted blanket. His head falls to rest on your chest. Almost instinctively, you reach up and card your hands through his hair.

You swear you hear him purr.

"Good?" You ask quietly as his arms wrap snugly around your waist. The hand that's not playing with his hair rubs gentle circles on his upper back, almost imitating the way you'd hold a stuffed animal.

"Mhm," he mumbled.

Leaning down an inch or so, you press a kiss to the crown of his head and relish his contented sigh.

For a while, there's nothing but a calm, slow quiet. There's the distant sound of the ventilation system kicking on; the faint scent of dish soap hanging in the air from when you'd worked together on chores earlier in the day. Johnny's chest rises and falls in time with your own.

After several minutes of muted hums and soft breaths, he speaks up, voice slightly muffled. "So," he murmurs, "You're tellin' me this is how you treat our pillows every time you settle in for a nap?"

You shrug. "Basically."

He groans quietly, burying his face in your chest. "...Lucky fuckin' bastards."

[justanaromantic]

man literally what even is romantic attraction . is it just you see someone and you're like I want to kiss and hold hands w them . is that all it is ???? I'm pretty sure it's not but like . genuinely what is it . because I have no idea man .