#ghost yaps

[ghstfoam]

Due to recording issues my ep 1 of Lifecount will be included in ep 2 :)

[little-ghostgirl-31]

DOU DIED!?!?!?!? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[kier-with-a-k]

I feel like I am a magnet... For volleyballs CAUSE TELL ME WHY WAS I ALMOST HIT BY A VOLLEYBALL 5 TIMES IN 1 WEEK!!! WTF?! mind you I was in a park because I had a practice and I was just chilling around you know as I do and in front of me my classmates playing volleyball and when a girl goes to hit it, it hit the ground quick and it redirected it straight to my fucking face! THANK GOD MY BOYFRIEND HAS MATT STURNIOLO'S SENSES AND BLOCKED IT WITH HIS HAND!!! WTF? AND IT HAPPENED 3 TIMES BTW... 3 FUCKING TIMES... and the other two was from a group of people who I did not know and when they go to hit it, the ball went straight up and it was going to land exactly where I stood thank god it was high enough for it to come down for longer so I had enough time to stand up and move out of the wag CAUSE IT WOULD'VE HIT MY HEAD!!!

[nightsbled]

the creature that awakens in me when ���the devil went down to georgia” starts playing…. i think i’m a sleeper agent

[ghost-grl-gutz]

I am slowly becoming obsessed with Phantom Siita! I have always wanted to get more into Jpop and stuff like that but have always felt overwhelmed. It helps Phantom Siita is new and released their first song 6 months ago!

Already wanna buy merch but its all sold out u_u

[fellghost]

made so much progress on my carrd today :) all my original kids have bios now! now I just need to get a couple histories written, and then we'll see about the rest.

[ghosty-tickles]

Me and Apollo have been jamming to Ninja Sex Party and it’s radical >:]

[frozen-ghostyy]

I starts playing Overwatch 2 and I’ve literally just been playing only Reaper, and if I can’t, then any other character.

Is it cause the person who plays Reaper voices Saladin and I’m a huge Saladin fan? Welll Maybeee.

Anyways, I’m hyperfixating on Overwatch now! Yippee

[ghstfoam]

so gang. I had to go to the hospital the other night and the prescriptions alone cost me 200$. I've been out of work for basically two weeks, working one or two days. I would really appreciate any help 🙏

Thank you E for putting this promo image together

Commission Link

[little-ghostgirl-31]

Google Play search for E-Play free music software

Um…child, I do not understand wtf this means 😭

[dead-flight]

simon "i don't get sick" riley kissing you when you're sick because kisses make everything better!

simon "i don't get sick" riley showing up on base with a runny nose and sneezing in between his commands!! + sergeant soap mactavish who can't take him seriously at all because of it...

simon "i don't get sick" riley being forced to take the day off by price, who decides he's had enough of the lieutenant's voice cracks and sparse coughing.

simon "i don't get sick" riley getting embarrassed because you're trying to coddle him into a bath, but silently enjoying how you brush your fingers through his hair and kiss his forehead.

simon "i don't get sick" riley passing out on the couch beside you, his head on your stomach, nose red from all his sniffling as he hugs to his chest one of the couch pillows!!

simon "i don't get sick" riley turning into the biggest baby once you offer him cough meds. it tastes bad! he'll get over his sickness really soon, so he doesn't need your stupid medicine!

[ghostwnby]

hi love!

I was wondering if you still had plans to work on crashing tides? I see the vision with that one and I like what I see. You clearly have so much talent and i can't wait to see where it might go.

Hello lovely anon <3

To answer your question: I absolutely am! My life has been insane lately (I can confidently dub 2024 as one of the craziest and, for lack of better words, worst years I've had in a WHILE) so please bare with me 💀

Once everything settles down I will continue but as of right now it's on temporary hiatus :( I'm glad you enjoyed the first part though <3

[angyblobghost]

Danny "piece of shit teenager" Phantom is floating around being a pain in the ass in the Justice League, as normal, when suddenly, he stops in the air.

His head turns 194 degrees, and his smile stretches wide.

"Raven!" He calls, just as the cloaked half demon enters the meeting room.

She stares impassively. "Danny."

"Oh come onnnnnn" the ghost ribs, standing upside down above her like a strange mirror image. "Call me 'Dad' already!"

Raven scowls. "No."

Cyborg, who had entered the watchtower with the girl, looks between them in confusion. "Now what on sweet mother earth is goin' on here?"

Phantom's laughter grated on every eardrum in the vicinity, like cracking glaciers.

"I beat the hell out of her dad, and ate half his soul!" He explains, like it's nothing.

"I took his throne in the duel, so it's only right that I be both a better ruler and a better father, eh?"

"Not my dad." Raven growls.

Phantom just smirks at her, and tosses her a paper bag. She catches it in her magic, and immediately whips out a cookie and begins crunching on it.

On Cyborg's glance, she just glowers. "Not sharing."

[bears-are-my-favourite-colour]

The little drawings in the mission plan will forever be my favorite. Just doodling in a time of crisis.

[cod-bin]

you always looked fine to me

gym bro!simon x insecure!chubby!reader

ask

wc: 3k

a/n: omg anon this one hit close to home 🥺 literally whenever i go to the gym this is literally me so it was lowkey easy to write 🫶

You’ve been going to the gym for months now. Same time every evening. Same locker in the corner. Same oversized shirts and sweatpants, no matter how hot it gets. Not because you’re lazy. Not because you’re sloppy. But because every time you tried to wear something tighter—something even remotely flattering—you caught a look. A side-eye. A smirk. A whisper.

“If I looked like that, I wouldn’t wear that.”

That one stayed with you for weeks.

You didn’t even finish the set that day. Just left early and sat in your car with your heart in your throat.

Since then, it’s been full coverage. No skin. No curves. Nothing to point at or judge. Just baggy clothes, headphones in, and eyes on the floor.

Still, the comments find you sometimes. Not always mean. Sometimes fake-nice. Sometimes stupid little jokes you pretend not to hear.

“You’re here every day—where’s the progress?”

“Damn, it’s 90 degrees and she’s still dressed like it’s January.”

“Probably just here to feel better about eating later.”

You never react. That’s the worst part. You just lower your head and keep going, even when your face burns and your throat tightens. Even when it takes everything in you not to disappear.

But someone always notices.

And his name is Simon Riley.

He’s hard to miss. Built like a wall. Hood always up. Giant hands gripping weights like they’re nothing. People move when he walks by. Girls preen when he’s near. He never reacts. Never flirts back. Just keeps his eyes on whatever he’s doing and nods at people when they say hi.

He’s never said more than a few words to you.

A quick, “You done with this?”

Once, a low “Need a spot?” when you nearly dropped a barbell.

And one quiet, raspy “You alright?” when you accidentally wiped your eyes too hard after a whisper that hit too close.

But lately… something’s changed.

You feel his gaze sometimes. Not in a creepy way. Not like the others. But like he’s checking—watching. You’ll finish a set and look up and he’s already looking away. You’ll walk past and he’ll move slightly, like he’s clearing the way just for you.

One time you caught him staring after a squat set—your sweats riding low on your waist, your baggy tee damp with sweat—and his jaw clenched like he was holding something back. You told yourself you imagined it.

Until the night he actually waited.

You’d finished your workout, earbuds in, head down, already planning what you’d eat in secret later, and then—

“Hey.”

You turned. He was leaning against the front desk, arms crossed, hoodie sleeves pushed up, eyes on you like he had every right.

“Me?”

He nodded once. “You free Friday?”

Your throat closed. “Uh. Why?”

His lip twitched—just a hint of a smirk. “Thought you might wanna get food.”

You blinked. Stared. Tried to decide if this was some kind of joke.

“You’re asking me out?”

He tilted his head. “Why not?”

Your mouth opened. Then closed. You nodded. “Okay. Sure. Yeah.”

He just nodded again, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Pick you up?”

You nodded again, stupid and flushed and already spiraling.

And now it’s Friday night. He’s on his way. You’ve changed clothes four times. Cried twice. You don’t own anything “hot girl cute.” You don’t even own jeans that make you feel good.

So when he knocks, you answer in your sweats and an oversized tee.

Still thinking maybe this was all a mistake.

And there he is.

Simon Riley. All 6’4 of gym-bro intimidation, in a plain black tee that fits him like a second skin, his arms crossed, hood down, eyes soft but unreadable. He glances down at you—at your flushed face, your bare collarbones, the baggy tee that probably looks ridiculous—and frowns just a little.

“You alright?” His voice is low, warm. The kind of voice that wraps around you without asking.

You nod. “Y-Yeah. I just—um. I couldn’t decide what to wear.”

His brow twitches. “So you picked nothing?”

You freeze.

“I mean—not nothing,” you say, tugging at your shirt, cheeks going hot. “I just… couldn’t find anything I felt good in.”

Simon tilts his head. His eyes sweep over you, quick but careful. “Can I come in?”

You hesitate. It’s messy. You’re a mess. But you step aside anyway.

He steps inside, boots heavy on the floor, and turns to look at you like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. “So that’s it?”

You blink. “What?”

“You’re just gonna tell me you couldn’t find anything,” he says, “and expect me to believe that’s why you were panicking behind the door?”

Your mouth opens, then closes. “I wasn’t panicking—”

“You were.” His voice is so calm it makes your chest ache. “I heard you trip.”

You let out a weak laugh and hug your arms over your middle. “It’s dumb. I just—”

“You don’t feel good in anything.”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He looks at you. Not with pity. Not with confusion. Just with this weird, heavy softness in his eyes that makes it hard to breathe.

“You look good now,” he says simply.

You stare at him like he just said the sky’s purple.

He shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “I’ve seen you at the gym. You always look good.”

You laugh, but it comes out shaky. “Yeah, in my giant sweatpants and hoodie.”

“Exactly.”

Your throat tightens. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head, steps a little closer. “Not even a bit. You think I’ve just been sitting there watching you squat for fun?”

You blink at him.

He smiles, faint and slow. “Okay, maybe a little for fun.”

“Simon—”

“I like how you look,” he says, and there’s no hesitation in it. “And I like how you carry yourself. Even when people stare. Even when you keep your head down and pretend you don’t hear ’em. I notice.”

You swallow. Hard.

He doesn’t say it like it’s romantic. He says it like it’s true. Like he’s been thinking it for a while. Like it’s obvious.

Then he glances at your couch. “We’re staying in.”

“What?” you blink.

“Not letting you spiral over clothes for the rest of the night.” He moves past you and plops onto your couch, legs spread, one arm thrown over the back like it’s his now. “C’mon. I’ll even let you put on one of those dumb romcoms you pretend not to like.”

You can’t help it—you laugh. “You haven’t even seen my Netflix.”

“I’ve seen your hoodie rotation,” he says, eyes twinkling. “Don’t need to.”

You roll your eyes but feel a flutter in your chest.

He pats the cushion next to him. “C’mere.”

You hesitate.

“You’re not hiding,” he says, quieter now. “Not from me.”

You sit beside him, cross-legged, still hugging your arms like a shield. He’s warm beside you. Way too big for your couch, thigh pressing lightly against yours. It feels dangerous. Familiar. Safe.

“You seriously don’t think I look—” you start, then stop.

He turns to you. “Bad? No. Not once. Not ever.”

You look down. “I always feel like I have to prove something. Like if I’m not shrinking, people think I’m lazy or gross or… I don’t know.”

Simon shifts closer. “Fuck ’em.”

“Easy for you to say. You look like you were built in a lab.”

“Still insecure,” he says. “Still hate my reflection sometimes. Still overthink every time I talk to someone like you.”

Your head snaps toward him. “Like me?”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “Yeah. You’re funny. And sweet. And every time I’ve seen you, you’re kind. Even when people are dicks.”

Your throat burns. “That’s not—”

He cuts you off gently. “I like you.”

You stare.

“You don’t have to say it back.” His voice is quiet now. “Just don’t sit there thinking you’re not worth being liked.”

You bite your lip. “I just never thought… someone like you would want to…”

“Someone like me?” he echoes, brow raised.

“You’re intimidating. Like. Hot intimidating.”

Simon snorts. “You ever seen yourself stretch after a lift?”

Your cheeks go nuclear. “Simon!”

“What?” he grins. “Not my fault you look good with your hair up and those little flushed cheeks—”

You throw a pillow at him. He catches it easily, then tosses it aside and grabs your hand before you can look away.

His hand is so much bigger than yours. Warm. A little rough.

“You don’t have to be anyone else tonight,” he says. “Not for me.”

Your chest is tight. But it’s not painful. It’s full. Like he just cracked something open inside you, and now all the air’s rushing in.

You lean into him, just slightly.

He wraps his arm around you and pulls you in fully.

Your head fits against his chest like it’s been there before. Like it’s home. His other hand rests lightly on your knee, not moving, just grounding you there.

“Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t really want to watch a movie.”

“That’s alright,” he murmurs.

“I just want to sit here for a bit.”

“I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

And he means it. You can feel it in the way he holds you. The way he settles in, like this is all he wanted.

You exhale slowly, finally letting your body relax against him.

Maybe you’ll wear something cute next time.

Maybe you won’t.

But right now, you’re not thinking about how you look.

You’re just thinking about the weight of his arm, the way his fingers graze your wrist, and how good it feels to not hide—for once.

He notices.

He always has.

☆taglist☆

@poshestpigeon @avgdestitute @eremika104 @lostintransist @little-mini-me-world @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @h0lydrag0ns @trixilove257 @fertilise-me

[jeleynai]

Self-care <3

Last one for @tacticallyunsoundjohnnyboy 🫶 Thank you so much once again for trusting me with our favourite boys 🥰