#ghost

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon is aware of his size.

Ever since he’d shot up a foot and began towering over his teachers in school, he’d grown used to the surprised looks and stares that sometimes followed his large stature.

It wasn’t something that bothered him. Honestly, it came with too many advantages for him to care whether it led to more eyes on him in public spaces or having to duck through shorter entry ways.

It wasn’t something he spent much time thinking about either. He was just tall, all there was to it.

Until you came into his life.

Until suddenly the size difference between you two wasn’t just something that wandering eyes would notice, but apparently something to be envied.

He notices the way other women keep stealing glances over at the two of you, as Simon effortlessly lifts you in his arms, sometimes holding you up against a large muscular shoulder, as you reach to pick the best looking apples off the branches at the orchard. Those women are fidgeting with their baskets as their partners attempt to climb short ladders and shake loose some of the fruit, unaware to the way their ladies are all imagining what it would be like to be in your place right now.

He notices the way a young woman in the grocery store blatantly stares at the way he casually plucks the jar off the very top shelf that you had been straining on tip toes to reach. He drops it into your shopping cart with a smile, watching as the woman’s gaze shifts to the difference in your hands as he interlocks his fingers through yours.

Even you can’t help but to notice the way a group of mums giggle and swoon as your mountain of a man casually untangles the bunch of balloons that had gotten caught in a tree, returning it to the young boy who was celebrating his birthday party in the park you two had been strolling through.

Oh yes, Simon’s large size came with an endless list of advantages.

But the very best parts of his stature, the toe-curling, heart-racing, slick producing advantages to his size, well, those were kept between you, him, and your bedsheets.

[beloveds-embrace]

Telling Ghost/Konïg you are too heavy for him to pick up or sit on his face, and he doesn’t say anything at first so you think he just accepted it even if your heart kinda twinged a little in pain because you know you are just not skinny enough-

Only for him to send you a video the next day: in the gym, looking mighty hot in a compression shirt and sweatpants just a touch low on his hips, and lifting a bar with ease. On a closer look? The weighs attached to the bar weigh far more than you do. And he so easily maneuvers and controls and manhandles it…

Between the heat curling in your stomach, face pink and thighs clenched shut, you almost miss the incoming text.

Never too heavy for me, doll.

[billfrancois]

Ghost vs ghosts

[machveil]

Husband!Simon Riley that lurks behind you constantly. in your home, at the grocery store, at a bar - he’s just looming behind you. sometimes he just stands and stares at the back of your head, absolutely smitten that you’re his and he’s yours. he’s not the best with words, but he’s great at following behind you

Husband!Simon Riley that’s silently delighted when you lean against him. he’s sturdy, a wall of a man - he’s cracking a small smile under his mask when you lean into him. he’s wrapping his arm around your waist, supporting your weight as you glance around. he tried leaning against you once, he didn’t tell you and caught you off guard, almost sending you tumbling to the floor

Husband!Simon Riley that likes when you give him mundane tasks. he’s always been good about following through on orders, yours just happen to be less life-or-death than his job. he’ll do exactly what you tell him to do, no comments or complaints. you want him to fold laundry? he’s doing it how you showed him, folding shirts and pants the way you like. you want him to change a lightbulb? he’s already walking to the closet. you want him to give you a kiss? say less, he’s stalking towards you

Husband!Simon Riley that spritzes his clothes with your perfume/cologne. just a little, he likes that he can walk around alone but it still feels like you’re with him. it doesn’t matter what scent it is - floral, fruity, smokey, musky, he’d happily drown in the scent. sometimes he sprays his balaclava with it before he leaves on a deployment, the 141 silently side eyeing each other because they can smell Ghost coming before they can see him

[sosuperawesome]

Shelley Couvillion on Instagram

[gasoline0816]

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Y/N: Are you wearing make up? Where'd your freckles go? Ghost: Winter just makes my freckles fade Y/N: I see *later* Y/N, beating the snow with a shovel: Give. Him. Back. His. Freckles. You. Bitch

[betweenstorms]

Butcher simon who can’t help but slowly realise the portions you’re buying at his are for one person’s only, nd he slowly learns more abt you from the casual things he observes; like your name when you take a phone call, what you’re planning to make, whether you have guests over… and he doesn’t mean to pry or feel anything over it, but he can’t help but feel a sense of pride when you keep coming back, with the same slight awkwardness, slight out of place feeling, always shyly looking up at him before staring at his hands only. (he wonders if you can see him flex his arm more, on purpose compared to the other orders.)

sorry, just needed to share this after reading yours :)

I love this, thank you for sharing! The little details Simon picks up on are so perfect. And the flexing on purpose? Chef’s kiss.

Part Three of What's Between Fridays (previous part) (masterlist) Butcher!Simon x fem!Reader

Simon Riley liked routine.

It kept the world in order and kept him grounded.

And running the butcher shop had always been routine. Methodical, repetitive, and solitary, just the way he preferred it.

He didn’t need to talk much, only sharp blades and clean cuts as his constant companions, the rhythm of bone meeting steel, and the quiet satisfaction of a job done well. He found solace in the sharp rip of tearing flesh, in the metallic tang of blood that hung thick in the air of his shop. It was the perfect barrier, a crimson curtain behind which he could stand, keeping the world at arm’s length, untouched and untouchable. Because people came and went. He watched them all, never really letting anyone into his space.

Until you.

You’d been a quiet fixture in his world for months now, slipping into the shop every Friday afternoon with the same awkward hesitance, like clockwork. At first, you were just another customer, always fumbling with your words, your gaze skirting his as if afraid to linger too long. Simon had hardly given it a second thought, just another customer passing through. But something changed over time, something he hadn’t been able to ignore.

It wasn’t particularly the way you looked or even the way you sounded, it was something quieter, subtler.

It was in the way you lingered—

—like you were hesitant to leave. 

So he started paying attention.

You never bought much, always just enough for one person. That told him more than you ever realised. No ring on your finger, no mention of anyone waiting at home. You were alone. He didn’t mean to dwell on that fact, but he did. He couldn’t help but notice the little things. The slight hesitation in your step as you approached the counter, the way your voice softened when you asked for his recommendations, as if you were nervous about making the wrong choice, about using the wrong words. And the way your eyes flickered over his arms as he worked, not realising that he noticed every glance, every stolen look.

He knew the effect he had on people, especially women.

He was a large bloke, muscular, intimidating to most. But with you, it felt different. It wasn’t just that you were nervous around him, it was the way you’d peek at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

And he saw it. The way your sparkling eyes flicked down to his arms when he flexed, and yeah, maybe he did it a bit more around you. Just to see if you’d notice.

It was almost ridiculous to himself, how aware he became of his own movements when you were in the shop. Simon, who had never been one for vanity, found himself caught off guard by the subtle shift in his own presence. The weight of your gaze, tracing the lines of his hands, the curve of his muscles, stirred something in him. He wasn’t the type to seek attention, but there was a kind of satisfaction in knowing that, in those stolen moments, you saw him. And somehow, he found that he liked it—more than he cared to admit.

Simon wasn’t proud of it, but he had started piecing things together about you from the subtle details.

Your name overheard when you answered a phone call one particular afternoon. The quiet way you spoke to whoever was on the other end, your voice soft but clear. The small, everyday details of your life that trickled into his awareness over time. Like what you were planning to cook, whether you had guests coming over, even the way your eyes lit up when you talked about a new recipe. He wasn’t prying, wasn’t trying to learn more about you, but the knowledge seeped in anyway, like rain through cracked windows. 

And he found himself enjoying it, this strange cat and mouse game you both seemed to play without ever acknowledging it.

It was the way you two observed each other—never too long, never enough to make it obvious, but enough to catch those fleeting moments when your eyes met his. It was a game of longing glances, of stolen seconds, a tempting thrill woven into the mundane, and Simon couldn’t help but lean into it, enjoying the chase.

It had become a sort of ritual, a delicate choreography.

Each Friday, it played out the same. A dance of soft touches and curious glances, of hesitations and quiet desire, a rhythm you both followed without ever naming it. He’d hand you your package of meat, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest of seconds, and you’d blush, your gaze flicking down to avoid his.

It was a small thing, a passing moment, but Simon found himself waiting for it each time you stepped through the door.

That delicate brush of time where your presence seemed to still the air around him. He’d catch you looking at him more often than not. His arms, his hands, even the way he moved around the shop. You thought yourself subtle, but Simon, who had spent a lifetime reading the unspoken language of people, so he definitely knew when someone was holding back. And yet, despite all of it, you never made a move, never crossed that line.

Until you did.

It had been a regular Friday afternoon, just like all the others, and you’d come in with your usual nervous smile, your fingers brushing his as you took the package he’d prepared for you. But this time, something felt off, as though the sun had lost its way in the sky, casting shadows where light should have been.

You’d lingered just a little longer, your eyes meeting his with a kind of quiet determination that he hadn’t seen before.

And then, you asked him. 

“Are you… visiting anyone during the holidays?” The question had been innocent enough, your voice soft and unsure, but the weight of it hung between you like something fragile, something easily shattered. “I mean, celebrating with your family or…?” 

Simon’s chest tightened at the mention of family. However, the way you looked at him, the vulnerability in your sweet voice, made something stir in him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“If not,” you’d continued, your voice faltering slightly, “I was thinking, maybe… you could join me for dinner this week? At my place.”

He’d stared at you, unable to form words for a moment.

You’d always been nervous around him, shy and reserved, but this… this was something else. The offer hung in the air, tentative, like you were holding out your heart, unsure if he’d take it or let it fall.

Simon had spent most of his life holding the world at arm’s length, keeping people at a distance where they couldn’t reach him, where they couldn’t see the quiet wounds beneath his skin. It was easier that way, safer and cleaner. No need to wrestle with the chaos of feelings or the tangled knots that came with letting someone slip past the defences. But as he stood there, your gentle eyes searching his, waiting for a word, he felt something shift, something unsettling in its quiet simplicity. It crept up on him, the realisation, as delicate and inevitable as the tide, that keeping you at a distance wasn’t as effortless as it had once been. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he knew, in that fleeting moment, something had shifted.

Simon didn’t want to say no.

So he didn't.

“Okay.”

Your face had lit up, a soft smile breaking across your lips as you nodded, the tension in the air dissolving into something lighter, warmer. You took the package from him, your fingers brushing his once more, but this time it felt different—like a promise, a quiet understanding passing between you.

As you slipped through the door, leaving the shop behind, Simon remained rooted in place, his gaze lingering on the space where you'd been, watching the quiet swing of the door as it clicked shut. And for the first time in longer than he could remember, the feeling that settled in his chest wasn’t the familiar weight of apathy, nor the impenetrable armour of his guarded soul. No, this was something different—something lighter, like the gentle stirring of a breeze before dawn. It crept in softly, taking root in his ice cold heart, as though he were standing on the edge of something unknown, the whisper of a promise waiting to unfold.

For the first time in a long time, Simon allowed himself to think about what it might be like to let someone in.

To let you in.

And the thought didn’t scare him as much as it should have.

[s-milesart]

even in death, Kasumi's is still haunted by her... ectoplasmic eye-grabbers. her boo-filled badonkers. her humongous haunters. her disquieting dobonhonkeros.

[brandontheoutcast]

13 Days of Ermaween 2024 Day 2

[amnhnyc]

👻 Boo! Meet the ghost mantis (Phyllocrania paradoxa). This species’ leaf-like appearance helps it disappear among foliage, concealing it from predators and prey. When tasty critters—like grasshoppers and moths—wander too close, it uses its powerful forelimbs to snatch them up! This insect has a wide range across Africa and can be spotted in Cameroon, Ethiopia, and Madagascar.

Photo: Wynand Uys, CC BY 4.0, iNaturalist

[readwritealldayallnight]

“Simon.” You mumble against his muscular chest, face squished into the fabric of his shirt.

“Yes, love?”

“Is this attempted murder?”

“No, love.” He grumbles sleepily, his heavy weight only pressing further into where he has you pinned beneath him. “‘M just hugging’ ya…” his sentence ends in a yawn, covering up the sound of your groan in protest.

“Si, this hug feels like attempted murder.” You could attempt to wriggle out from underneath him, but that’s a lost cause and you know it.

Bending your knees, you slide your bare feet up the back of his calves.

“Fuck!” He shouts, finally fully waking up and rolling off you. He doesn’t go far though, landing next to you on the mattress and instantly pulling you into his embrace. “Fuckin’ toes are freezin’. You got any feeling left in those feet o’ yours?”

“None at all, actually. Glad you asked. You can massage them for me.”

“With pleasure. One o’ them happy endin’ massages, aye?”

[puuuders]

Everytime I put on a ghost shirt I HOPE someone comes up to me and says "oh you like Ghost? Name 3 songs then"

[thepumpkin-queenn]

[machveil]

Roommate!Simon Riley that locks up for the night. go ahead and get ready for bed, Simon will double check that all the doors and windows are shut and locked. he wants you to feel safe in your shared apartment - he’s more than willing to protect you, but it’s still good to make sure everything is secure. if you hear something and come padding to his room all you have to do is knock, Simon’ll shove you into his room and take a look around the flat

Roommate!Simon Riley that puts your safety first - from the mundane to the unpredictable. he rests his hand on the edge of cabinets and counters when there’s a chance you could hit your head, a hand gently guiding you away from the street so he can walk closest to it. his eyes are always scanning for any danger before drifting back to you

Roommate!Simon Riley buys you pepper spray - even if you can defend yourself he’d still like for you to have a third option. what do you mean third? sure you could protect yourself, that’s a good plan b. the first option, and Simon’s favorite, is him tagging along whenever you go out. no one wants to mess with a bulky, gruff man wearing a mask, his body shielding you from any unwanted attention

Roommate!Simon Riley that has you wear his dog tags when you’re out with him. while he ignores the warmth blooming in his chest, it’s really so he can make sure you come home with him. he makes you promise that you’ll give them back to him at the end of the night - or early in the morning if it’s a really late night out. he’s not trying to ruin your chances of meeting anyone… he just wants you to come home safe and sound with him

[sosuperawesome]

Ghost Stories Pin // Lisa La Rose Art