#but I was going through my clips

[phantom-wolf]

I relate to this stormtrooper so much

[lylahammar]

the way that this page in particular was adapted just OOZES studio trigger tbh. like I know everyone likes to joke about studio trigger being the horny studio, but the quick jerky animation direction is what truly makes their work recognizable to me. I can practically see Lio Fotia bleeding through the pixels in that 5 frame animation of Falin peeking through her fingers

[hinamie]

unconditionally

[saintjudasi]

comic about being 12 and realizing youre gay #whocanrelate

[royalarchivist]

Missa: Oh my god, I'm making you like, I'm- you're like, work now just for me man, thank you so much for like…

Phil: I gotchu man, I gotchu, don't worry.

Missa: I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry... It's way too late and you're like, helping me out doing like a backpack, I'm so sorry....

Phil: Nononono, you're good, you're good, don't worry.

Missa: [In Spanish] I don't deserve you, Philza, I hope the translator doesn't work so he doesn't understand that I'm telling him I love him.

Phil: Gonna give you these, gonna give you this...

Missa: [Quietly laughs]

Phil: Gonna make it into a gold one... there we go... and then-

[ Clip source ]

[hyunpic]

hyunjin for elle korea & cartier

[ace-octo-pix]

your motherfucking life ends five seconds from now

[copia]

THIRTY-ONE DAYS OF GHOST ⛧ DAY ONE

first song you heard — Mary On A Cross

September 1969; Papa Nihil and the beginning of the Ghost Project take to the stage at the Whiskey a Go Go club in Los Angeles, under the watchful eye of Sister Imperator. Fifty-three years later, in Tampa, Florida, Papa Emeritus the Fourth performs Mary On A Cross, unaware that he is singing the story of his parents—and that of himself.

[iamacolor]

Lee Soo Hyuck as Park Joonggil (Tomorrow, 2022) - Devil Saint

K-DRAMA SECRET SANTA 2023 for @khaoray

happy holidays Vic, wishing you all the best for next year! 💜

[ender1821]

this cactus ring is looking a lil bit different (compilation of some shiny duo moments from mcc p24)

[bestagons]

What Dan and Phil Text Each Other 4 + Familect (article)

[reddieswift]

besties :,)

[showmey0urfangs]

IWTV Season 2 Teaser | What really happened in Paris?

[spacemilkbag]

[s0fter-sin]

ghost stares at the ceiling, chest heaving in a harsh pant; sweat ice on his clammy flesh and soaked into the sheet he restlessly kicks away.

ears still ringing, his fingertips blindly drift down to trail along his vivisection scar. he half-expects blood to smear in their wake. his own line of solomon, who ordered him split in twain; half of him given to a grieving mother and half left with the grieving to be.

just for both his broken halves to be rejected.

what did it make him that his mother grieved him more than she loved him? that she begged to be relieved of him more adamantly than she begged to receive him? why did his worth spill out with his drawn blood? why was his pain lesser than hers?

his hand flexes, digging into the raised scar like it’ll part beneath his fingertips to plunge into his mangled insides. no one knows the cruelty of reforming the halved; his name, his being, not nearly as important as his body when he was stripped from himself. no one knows the pain of healing and understanding losing pieces of yourself means losing your value along with them.

how many more pieces did he have to lose before he was halved once more? before his very presence incurred grief so strong it was better to be rid of him than cradle his bloodied remains?

did the infant fight himself? did he age always at odds with himself; his halves never truly whole? he hopes he wasn’t, that he was spared the loss of self; the fear that one may be welcomed over the other.

who will he lose when the inevitable comes? when he’s ripped apart again? simon? or ghost? is it better to be cursed with choice just like his mother or live with an aftermath chosen for him? does it matter if in the end, he convinces himself there was nothing of him left to lose?

his head lolls to the side and the wild buck of his chest slows. he watches johnny beside him, his face lax with the rare peace of sleep; his cheek squished against the pillow, his lips pursed as long breaths escape him.

johnny. soap. never torn asunder but two all the same.

he carefully reaches out and ghosts his fingers along the jagged scar on his chin. even in sleep, he presses into his bloodied touch. he’s never fled his half-flesh, never shies away from his gore as it spills unbidden from his cleaved torso. he holds on where his mother let him go; cups his stomach to hold his insides in place and never minds the blood that drips through his fingers.

simon will never let him become his own solomon and cannibalise himself. he will never let him question which half of him has more value; which pieces he can afford to lose before he’s cast aside.

ghost’s soap. simon’s johnny. his.

whole, in any incarnation.

[adultemophase]

awww she’s grown up so much :)

(im going to buy a gun)