#ghost tagging:

[luna-loveboop]

Drove in a thunderstorm and thought I was going to die. Paused outside my cousin's house at the top of the hill, on the way home, on my phone, to take a picture of my lady moon, because the clouds felt surreal

:)

[ptewie]

Okay, now that the hype has died down I just want to say that the general vibe of abject horror that Mr Foxington Tobias expressed about the simple fact that he had to make a song to act as a replacement for pepper steak is the realest thing I've ever seen. because like HOLY SHIT. how do you even BEGIN to approach that? i would have crashed out ngl. you want me to try to match up to pepper steak? pepper steak. pepper steak from OFF? you're insane. you might as well ask me to turn water into gold because you are asking me to do the impossible here. to capture pepper steak. pepper steak from off. the song pepper steak from OFF. what the fuck dude what the hell

i mean like, he fucking cooked regardless but you get what i mean

[bugslaststraw]

My mom spent like four months embroidering this on and off. She asked me to post it for her here! It's her first time making fanart, and also kind of her first time embroidering anything? I'll read any comments I get out to her.

[lustjunkiie]

thinking of old, retired!simon riley who hangs out pubs in his free time. he’s a tank of muscle, with a soft layer of fat over it all. he’s got the peak dad bod, and he’s a bit tanner than he was from working in his back garden. his tattoos are lining his body and he is scrumptious.

and he meets you. young little thing, sweetest bird he’s ever seen. shining, soft grins and plump, curvy edges.

he nearly drops to his knees to pray for you to grace him with your presence when you do it on your own volition. he forgot he was even playing blackball, the cue still held tightly in his hand. he was just practicing, just a hobby.

“mm, can ye teach me how to play?” you ask, and you’ve got a thicker accent than he does. he drinks it up, with a straw and all. he nods, handing you a freshly chalked cue.

you struggle enough to learn the mechanics for him to decide to stand behind you, front pressed to your back as he bends you over with his body weight — one hand on your waist and the other steadying your cue as you aim to break.

fuck. he’s so hot, burning even through your skimpy dress. his voice rumbles in your ear,

“c’mon, birdie, just steady y’rself. even out yer breathin’.” he instructed, as patient as ever.

you beat him when you guys actually started playing! yay! and then… you decided to make a silly little bet.

“if you can beat me,” you whispered in his ear, liquid temptation mixed with the way you were pulling him by his shirt collar down to your level — you knew he could easily beat you — “i’ll go home with you.”

simon has never won a game of blackball so fast.

[celestiachan]

i love a character who can't stop dying. bitch you JUST got better what do you MEAN you died again. that's the fifth time this week

If this post stays at the top of the ghost trick and ava and henry stickmin and boxboy tags without a single person being convinced to play boxboy I will become the joker

[trekkerac]

he's like a faulty lightbulb

[hrokkall]

We are so bat

[mellounir]

I'm a fool for lingering touches and stolen glances

[batsybat91]

"No, no, no, you have to believe me!!" Soap argues with Gaz. "He has a little fiancée who lives in a cottage with him! She planted flowers in his walkway! And she scolded him for crushing them when he was piss drunk!"

"Ghost doesn't even like flowers," Gaz sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this is the hundredth time he's heard this. Maybe it is, knowing Soap. "Not unless they're dead, I reckon."

"I swear it on me mum and me sisters!" Soap exclaims, raising his right hand as if swearing on the Bible. "She had a little bookcase under her telly, and embroidered throw pillows on the couches! With blankets softer than anythin' I have ever seen!"

"Enough!" Price grumbles, sitting up from his chair like a father who has heard enough bloody arguing. "Soap, stop making up stories. Gaz, stop instigating shit."

"No, no! Cap, you gotta believe me!" Soap begs. "She answered the door in a pink slip gown! She had paintings of flowers on her walls! With butterflies!"

"Oh, aye, and d'ya suppose she had curlers in her hair?" Price snorts. "I've been to Ghost's house, Soap. It has movie posters, pinup girls, and ashtrays. Nothing like what you're saying."

"How long ago was that?!" Soap exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

"I'd say about two years ago," hums Price, scratching his beard thoughtfully.

Just then, Ghost walks into Price's office, where the boys had been idly chatting. Price offers him a cigarette, which Ghost refuses. "My lady asked me to stop smokin'," he grunts. "Started chewin' gum instead."

"Oh, right." Gaz tosses a crumpled sticky note at Ghost. "You and Soap are trying to play a prank on us, innit?"

"It's real!" Soap shouts, exasperated.

"What's real?" Ghost crosses his arms.

"The woman at your house! In the pink nightie with the pretty eyes and the flowers!" Soap points at him with an accusing finger. "Your fiancée."

Ghost just shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise. Price and Gaz are still looking at Soap like he needs to be locked up in an asylum.

"Johnny, I'm going to ask this gently," Gaz begins. "Are you bloody mental?! Makin' up a story like this?"

"It's not!" Soap whines. "She's real! She told me I could check on him the next morning after he got shite-faced at the bar!"

"She give you a kiss on the cheek too?" Gaz mock-pouts at Soap.

"She better not have," Ghost growls.

All three heads turn to look at him in unison, the argument falling silent. "What?" Price and Gaz ask while Soap leaps out of his chair.

"I fucking-! I fucking told you so!" he stammers. "Tell 'em, Ghost!"

Ghost shakes his head. "Keepin' her safe, Johnny. Not that you'd understand that."

Part I

Tags: @xylov, @just-lilita

[mellosdrawings]

Post-OP crash out rkgk

[luna-loveboop]

let's be judgy with mama 1

[pippynsworld]

[stars-obsession-pit]

“Mom, why do you think ghosts are intrinsically evil?”

“It’s what the science says, of course!”

“No, I mean like, what were the studies? What did they actually observe”

“Ohh, I get what you mean, Danny! Well across all reputable reports of encounters with the ghosts strong enough to matter, they’ve always attacked first and never responded to attempts at communication! There’s no reason for them to do that if they’re not evil!”

“Huh…”

…

Danny, learning about Ghost Speak and how humans can’t understand it: hmm.

Danny, learning that ghosts greet each other and bond by fighting: hmmm.

[sherlockggrian]

congratulations joel, massive W for smallishbeans lovers :D

[lustjunkiie]

i have baby fever so…

Single Dad!Simon Riley whose daughter is so sweet.

You, a sweet and humble hairdresser in your salon which you’ve bought and built from the ground yourself, having a walk-in appointment with a 6’4” hulking man, and his most precious angel. A black surgical mask covering his jaw, mouth and nose.

His little angel, who you learn to be Amelia, climbs into your chair with the cutest grunts of struggle and eventually a triumphant sigh. Her dad, in his effortlessly silky, gruff voice, explains that her hair is now down to her knees practically and he needs help. Her mother left when she was young and he’s only ever had one brother.

You chuckle softly and nod, and his daughter looks up at you after you explain that you’ll be trimming her gorgeous hair and demonstrating some simple braiding techniques to her father, and in the tiniest, cutest little Londoner accent:

“Thank you for helping my Daddy.” You nearly burst into tears at her shining hazel eyes and her big, toothy smile. You nod and begin sectioning her hair after placing a pink apron over her front. She beams to her Dad, “Look! She gave me pink!” He laughs and his eyes shine with pride. She’s so good at communicating, even though she barely looks five. She’s so adorably tiny, too.

At the end of the appointment, Simon has learned three different braid styles. He’s a natural, you assure him. You curl his daughter’s hair just before she leaves, and she does a little dance around the place in her princess dress. Her dad picks her up, and he smiles at you. Thanking you in that knee-weakening voice of his. He promises he’ll be back with any hair concerns, and he even tips you extra.

Before he leaves, his daughter points at you and asks if he can take you home. He responds, without missing a damn beat:

“Mm, only if she wants to come home with us.” He winks at you for good measure.

You think that maybe that idea isn’t so bad.