Imitation Of Life (1959) Dir. Douglas Sirk

THE SECRET WORLD OF ARRIETY 2010, dir. Hiromasa Yonebayashi

her compromise still threatens to leave vikram outside of his comfort zone but he appreciates her willingness to meet him halfway. he's never particularly felt like he was someone easy to be around—too quiet, too meek, too hesitant. sometimes, he wonders if he is deserving of hana's patience or the gift of her company and as often happens, guilt starts to creep in. surely there are better things, better people for hana to invest her energy in. but then she laughs, and the warmth that radiates from her is enough to melt those pesky fears. the last thing he wants is to diminish her enthusiasm with his lack of it, so he nods, a newfound determination to enjoy the festivities settling into his bones. “deal.” he says, smile obscured by his half mask.

her enthusiasm on his silly suggestion, paired with the reality of their height difference earns a laugh from vikram, nose scrunching slightly in endearment. "oh— that would probably help, wouldn't it?" arms still locked, he begins to bend his knees until they are as close to eye level as they can be. he shakes his head at the mention of her tiktok account. "miss sayoc, sometimes i think you might be the death of me." there's a fondness as he says that because they both know vikram could never say no to her. not fully. "ready?" he asks, eyes darting from the shot back to her.

☾ hana bobs her head in agreement: she's having a perfect night. moving back from los angeles made their hometown seem impossibly dull. but on nights like this, when the town convenes for something fun, she can almost pretend there's a comparison to be made. as expected, his reaction to her nightly chores is as amusing as ever. she laughs. ❝ you'd probably be surprised, but i guess i could rework the to - do list for you. let's say ... a dance, three drinks minimum, annnnd– no bailing until at least 12:30 ? ❞

an excited hum of approval leaves her at his suggestion. ❝ ooohh, you are so smart ! ❞ hana cheers, instantaneously moving to link their arms together. their heights make it look a little impractical. ❝ —you might have to bend down just a little, so we don't spill everywhere. ❞ just to tease him a little further, she adds, ❝ next one's going on tiktok for sure. ❞

Miller's Girl (2024)

SALVADOR  IS  NOT  SHY  about  the  look-over  he  gives  francis  the  moment  he  walks  in.  more  curious  than  anything.  with  how  slow  the  night  has  been,  salva  finds  himself  grateful  for  the  new  face,  even  one  sporting  a  hairstyle  that  simply  screams  daddy’s (or  mommy’s!) money.  a  look  around  the  room,  realizing  the  waitress  who  was  scheduled  to  be  with  him  was  nowhere  in  sight.  typical  for  this  time  of  shift.  salvador  himself  was  known  to  disappear  for  periods  at  a  time,  usually  to  take  an  unnecessarily  long  smoke  break  or  to  talk  someone  up.  anything  to  stop  the  night  from  dragging.  with  a  sigh,  he  makes  his  way  over,  grabbing  a  grease-stained  ticket  book  and  plucking  the  pen  he  had  tucked  behind  his  ear.  the  click  sounds  louder  than  it  should  in  the  empty  diner,  but  salva  pays  it  no  mind.  that,  and  an  expectant  look  are  the  closest  thing  to  a  greeting  he’s  going  to  give. 

  “what  i  recommend  might  depend  on  a  couple  of  things.  how  hungry  are  we  talking…  boss?”  a  pointed  pause  to  emphasize  the  disadvantage  the  stranger  has  found  him  in—  only  one  of  them  was  wearing  a  name  tag.  that’s  fine.  salvador  was  never  good  with  names  anyways.  much  better  at  remembering  faces.  particularly  when  they  were  as  nice  to  look  at  as  his.  or  the  one  he  was  tapping  at. bronte’s.  salvador  hasn’t  even  read  the  article.  doesn’t  feel  like  he  needs  to,  not  when  it’s  all  everyone  has  been  talking  about  recently.  even  now  as  he  takes  a  proper  look  at  the  article,  all  he  can  really  bring  himself  to  care  about  is  how  hot  the  brunette  looks.  all  pissed  off  and  indignant. 

“yeah,  i  guess.”  he  replies  with  a  shrug,  INDIFFERENT.  “i  just  think  it’s  kind  of  fucking  weird  that  some  prick  took  a  picture  of  the  whole  thing.”  is  nothing  sacred  anymore?  can  lovers  not  quarrel  in  peace?  the  quip  on  her  affinity  for  pegging  makes  salvador  grin,  amusement  slowly  blooming  under  relaxed  features.  “id  say  she  was  into  it  just  as  much  as  any  girl  should  be.” which  is  a  lot,  in  his  very  humble  opinion.  “i  can  give  you  her  number  -  if  you  want  it.  pretty  boy  like  you…   think  you  might  just  be  her  TYPE.”   the  corner  of  his  lip  twitches  upwards,   “might  come  at  the  price  of  your  life  but  hey—  with  a  face  like  that  she  would  be  entitled  to  it,  right?  hot  privilege  and  all  that.”  salvador  knows  a  thing  or  two  about  that.  “so  –  what’s  your  deal?  abercrombie  and  fitch  don’t  pay  enough,  so  you  had  to  take  up  trucking  as  a  side  gig?”  absolutely  nothing  about  him  screamed  trucker,  but  that  was  simply  what  salvador  was  used  to  seeing  at  this  time  of  night. 

ꜜ ﹙ 💳  ﹚ ﹕ there was no real reason to be here aside from the fact that it was only place open in the dead of night, when sleep was an impossible dream in a sprawling lakehouse that felt suffocating⸻ its emptiness pressing down on him and his loneliness. at least here at dolly's, the hum of the old lights buzzed louder than his more dreadful thoughts, place nearly empty, save for a trucker nursing a coffee and a line cook that looked like he should be a nude calendar model instead of flipping patties. he definitely looked like a march or april kind of guy, too pretty not to be a sleazy womanizer, and so people must be hiding their eggs from him like it's easter. practice safe sex and all. he seemed fun, at least. but those were just the intrusive thoughts that invaded francis' head as he stared at the cook instead of coming up with what he wanted to order. he leaned forward, arms resting on the counter, eyes tracing the other man's nametag before looking into his eyes. “ i'll just have whatever you recommend, salvador. ” he clicked his tongue and smiled, before attention drifted to the abandoned newspaper on the counter. the article on the front page wasn't exactly what he expected from the local press ﹕ but it sure was entertaining, albeit a little disappointing that the mystery might be over when he only just got here to see how he'd fare against a sharp knife. francis tapped the photo over and over and over until he got the line cook's attention again, a low chuckle echoing faintly in the empty diner. “ this girl— they think she has something to do with the other one going missing ? i mean, she's got a face that looks like she's a little too into pegging. but hell, with a face like that, she should be able to have whatever she goddamn wants. murder included. ” @brntout

kennedy trains their gaze on the slit of the dress, as effie speaks. "that's a shame. i could stitch it up for you, if you'd like. do you work tomorrow?" it's only a halloween dress, so kennedy wouldn't blame effie if she just wanted to throw it away. a soft chuckle escapes them when their words are served right back at them. the two really did seem to share a knack for catching things, a vigilance that was no doubt cultivated by their profession. sometimes, it felt like effie shared every aspect that made kennedy a good writer and then some. the grace in which the blonde carries herself is something kennedy is not used to seeing from her fellow reporters. it's borderline infuriating really. journalists are like vultures after all and what business does a vulture have to pretend like they aren't starving for their next meal? it makes them equal parts intrigue and wary, because they are not fully convinced there isn't something of a darker side wrapped in the picture-perfect image that is effie floyd. even her description of her usual night is so... her.

"well, for a fish out of water, you can move." kennedy says with a smile, allowing themselves to follow effies lead in swaying to the rythm. "okay love. whiskey sours are definitely classy." way more than their preference for tequila sodas. a laugh escapes them at effi's words about her city girl antics. "it isn't my scene. not really. i only indulge in this kind of stuff once in a blue moon. figured my first halloween back in town counted as a special enough occasion" simply put, kennedy just wanted to show off tonight. 'sup, losers i'm back in town and not only am i successful but i also look hot covered in blood haha i win you lose.' "so i take it you weren't much of a party girl back home?"

" did something happen ... " she remembers the split of her dress in an instant. thin, sutured with a quick pin stolen from the bar. " oh, that. ugh, got it caught on someone's spikey belt. i think. " an exasperated sigh. " and you say you can't get anything past me ... look at you. " on the contrary, effie hasn't drank yet. she tries to stray away from the habit. finds being the role of the sober friend at the party to be more fulfilling. though, really, who is she to pass up the offer? the atmosphere here is different than the office, kennedy seems to feel lighter. she'll take it. another show of her good intent in picking at her pieces ; the small criticism. if effie thinks differently of kennedy she'd never voice it unless it becomes a necessity. it hasn't yet.

" my poison is usually a warm blanket and wine at home. i'm kind of a fish out of water here. " she grasps kennedy's hands in a steadying gesture, coaxes her to sway with the beat just a bit. " think ... i'll go with the classic whiskey sour though. classy. " she grasps kennedy's hands in a steadying gesture, coaxes her to sway with the beat just a bit. " but i think ... i'll go with the simple whiskey sour though. real classy. " and that's her personal cue to pull their sway towards the bar. " gotta say, didn't think this was your scene. though i guess i sold you too short as a new york girl, huh ? "

Sabrina the Teenage Witch – 2.15: Finger Lickin' Flu

FINAL DESTINATION 2000 | dir. James Wong

HENRY ZAGA

requests — anonymous asked — can you gif the ‘you’re not my type’ ‘we just had sex’ 'if you were i wouldn’t have, i’d have gotten to know you first’ conversation separately?

Hercules (1997) dir. John Musker & Ron Clements