#ghost regression

[milkybunnybow]

Hello milky!! I was wonderin if u could do ghost regressor things? :) and uh I also wanna ask how do u make your text multicoloured nd ombre? Ur posts are always so pretty

Hope ur having a good day/night <3

hihi ghostie fren!! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა i'm super sorry this took me forever to get to!!

work has been makin me a very sleepy bunbun lately and burnin me out a ton...

૮ っ˔ ◟ ა but i pinky promise i never forgot about this!!

thank you lots for bein so patient with me. it really makes my heart do happy flutters when people like my lil regressor posts... ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )💗

when i first started makin these, it was cause i noticed not much agere stuffs for otherkins like me (I'm angelkin! ૮₍ ´• ˕ •` ₎ა)~ so I'm really over the moon that others find comfort in them too!! ૮꒰ˊᗜˋ ꒱ა🌙✨

🌈 and!! to answer your question about the pretty rainbowy text heres a super easy tut i followed! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ 𝕲𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙 ◯ 𝕽𝖊𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖗 ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Soft little souls finding safety in the glow of the unseen. 🌙

𖦹 Drifting in and out of focus, like a lil sleepy cloud

𖦹 Only feeling comfy in soft, dim lighting

𖦹 Quiet babbling and whispering to yourself

𖦹 Feeling "see-through" when you're shy or overwhelmed

𖦹 Loving quiet lullabies or ambient sounds like rain

𖦹 Feeling invisible in a soft, cozy way

𖦹 Floating around in blankies like a little ghost sheet

𖦹 Tiny, whispery babbles like soft breezes

𖦹 Drifting off into naps without realizing it

𖦹 Playing peekaboo and hidey games

𖦹 Gentle "boo!"s to get attention

𖦹 Needing lots of reassurance they’re seen and loved

𖦹 Rocking back and forth to feel calm

𖦹 Needing extra gentle check-ins n’ reassurance

𖦹 Pretending to phase through walls during playtime

𖦹 Feeling safe when tucked into the spirit world (aka lots of blankies!!)

𖦹 Small whispers and sleepy mumbles instead of full words

𖦹 Lots of sleepy time, wanting to nap anywhere

𖦹 Loving soft glowy lights like nightlights and fairy lights 👻✨

Floaty hugs and ghostly snuggles to all the lil spirits… you’re never alone! 🐰����

[painterpaws]

hewwo can u do ghost regressor things?? :>

👻 ghost regressor things 👻

👻 calm music

👻 flowy outfits

👻 usually quiet or non verbal

👻 watching 'the ghost and molly mcgee'

👻 often sleepy

👻 lots of the colour white

👻 prefers indoors

👻 ghost shaped cookies

👻 saying 'boo!' when they see people

👻 drawing on misty mirrors

[the-crowne]

ghost regressing to um, cope with the fact that the mama you imagine/only can text can’t hold you

[emacrow]

The Justice League hasn't heard from John in four months. It was Zatanna who got concerned first when his phone was disconnected.

Batman found out that he died saving an important little girl named ellie from a group of drug trafficker using her as a battery. How paled zatanna was said about the girl and John's deceased body disappeared in a green portal afterward, telling him what level of apocalypse could have accurate if she had died.

Zatanna Investigating the house of mysteries was the next plan of action, considering only Zatanna and Deadman knew that house was claimed by John with an amount of cursed items, books, and every other apocalypse related items.

Zatanna was only going to place seals upon and inside the house, so nobody would attempt to enter ever, except the house wouldn't let her open the front door.

Her blood felt ice cold as she kept trying to pull the door open, but no budge.

That was where she brought the Justice league in, thinking only someone sinister and patience enough placed a claim on the house after John died because if they did.

This was a code blood moon to them. This could be the universe ending on the other side if whoever had control in the house has every cursed item, weapons, and apocalypse making ritual books imaginable that John had collected over the years.

Before J'onn could slip intangible through the house, the door opened to reveal.... Ellie?

The girl who disappeared, wearing a red beanie and a bright smile.

"Oh good, John said you all would probably come here like headless chickens. Come in!" Ellie said, leaving the door open as she floated back inside.

The Justice League and zatanna look dumbfounded before J'onn, the brave soul went in first, saying that he felt no threat.

The house of mysteries seems to have a new type of decoration done, though still very creepy. Safety baby locks, anti plug in, and a bunch of ghost related toddler toys lay around.

A very massive in height man wearing a gravity defying cloak full of stars, hair whiter then snow with constellations braids with the stars themselves sat in the couch that was obviously too much for his massive form.

A squealing little toddler wearing a soft orange jumper with purple hair giggling loudly every time he smack his tiny hands hard onto a board with a bunch of green blob in 9 holes popping out randomly like some ghost theme whack a mole.

Zatanna glanced, looking down at the little boy and then back at the familiar massive tower entity smiling softly, his stardust freckles luminous glowing green with the frozen frost crown with nebula emblems inside floating innocently on his head as her eyes widen a bit.

"Zatanna, who is this guy?" Superman said, concerned in the back. The Justice League didn't know where to go defensive mode or stand down as there was a child present.

She bowed on her knees immediately on the ground, her eyes teary up with a sense of relief.

"I greet thy infinite Realm, Danny Phan-"

"Zatanna, I told you four times in a role. It's not worth repeating my whole titles. You can call me Danny, and no, i didn't win John's soul... I merely adopted him." Danny waves his hands lightly, miniature dwarf star float around lightly before reabsorbed back in his palm.

"It took me 5 years of planning with clockwork and ellie after John helped my realms from the GIW and their plan to make my people into non-living, and living batteries, even though the Justice League had help along with disbanding them. He grew onto me and my family, and seeing what would've become his cheese grated soul after he died was a big no-no in my book." Danny said softly, Ellie popping behind from his mass of white hair.

"I helped, even though now I'm a bit younger than I am now after that whole pretend to get captured by amateur traffickers, but I'd owed constantine for that prank idea for Dan."

The Justice League awkwardly sat on the opposite couch that suddenly appeared, zatanna sitting on the floor a few feet away from John, still playing on a ghost themed whack a mole board.

"Why is John acting like this?" Zatanna asked softly, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe her moisten eyes.

"Well, with the combination added years of his much overdue life, by cheating, swindling and dealing with the Supernatural, Gods, faes, and demons alongside the amount of pushed down trauma and PTSD John accumulated in his barely to be call a soul piece after dying in a perfect way for ectoplasm to fixed all of that to made him into a halfa." Danny continues to explain softly.

"His halfa core couldn't handle the weight of it all his soul pieces put together again, especially with his main soul piece being the size of broken miniature ball even after the others entities figured out I claimed and relinquished their contracts because they know I outrank them all, but John's core couldn't handle being put together all at once like that, especially how long he was with barely much of his soul left in the end once he died."

"In a simple way, all His memories, skills and everything in each soul pieces that was taken in between like a giant block of cheese being forced into a tiny mash sieve that was his current mind and body state right now, what Frostbite explain to me." Danny explained simpler with conjuring a solid glob of ectoplasm in his left hand, being pushed in a mold of mini sieve, barely any being pushed out except a couple of glowing liquid dripping.

"John is still the same John, only at where he was his safest mind state before all those deals, trauma, and everything that resulted into what he was, then that slowly returns with time. Only he is free now." Danny finished softly smiling, watching John ripe out a oooing blob ghost from the board with a gleeful squeal, smacking it on the board with delight, his tiny legs kicking in excitement.

Part 1 here <- part 3 -> here

[gothghostiie]

In the spirit of all the awesome agere stuffs, how bout Simon with a little who gets vvvv sleepy when they regress??? They just an eepy lil thang

absolutely!!

cw: age regression

hmmm. simon adores his little any way they are, but a sleepy little thing like you? has his heart melting. he loves having you conked out on his lap, head sacked against his chest while you snore quietly, it makes him feel like he's doing a good job of making you feel little and safe. he can always tell when it happens, smirking at every little yawn you give.

"someone's a little sleepy, hm?" he murmurs softly, already pulling you close, no matter where or when, kissing the top of your head. "don't worry, I'm here." is all he whispers while rocking you a little bit, wrapping you in a blanket; or his jacket if no blanket is available. keeps humming or talking softly until you fall asleep. has loads of pics of you sleeping.

[smallsafespace]

Bean Buddies: Pumkin and Spooky!

[irachki]

cuetes

pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x latina!reader warnings: canon compliant violence. no beta so whatev a/n: i wrote this for @hahaifolded after we were talking about the lack of good latino representation in the fandom. hope you like it folded 🥺💕

There is something to be said about how easily Simon Riley can be bribed. Off the field, of course. He’d never put his team at risk on the field.

But with his third tamal in hand and the half drunk jarrito next to his elbow, Rudy can see how little it takes to sway him. He doesn’t get to sit with the realization too long before another body steps into the doorway.

“Who brought the ghost?” You lean your shoulder against the doorframe as you survey the stranger that’s sat in the midst of all your family members.

Rudy snorts, the unintentional pun missed on your part, while he shrugs. “You know me, always catching strays.”

Your gaze shoots over to Rudy and you raise an eyebrow, “Stray?” The incredulous tone of your voice is amplified by the once over you give Simon. “Aren’t strays supposed to be scrawny? Hanging on by a thread, pure skin and bone? He seems to be real well fed.”

Rudy shakes his head, laughter carries in his voice, “Well SAS does a pretty good job of keeping their boys working at full throttle.”

You shift, slightly, but enough for your uncle to see the way your body loses some of it’s ease.

“SAS? What are the brits doing on Mexican soil? They never venture this deep into latam.”

He grimaces, one of his hands sliding out of his pocket to rub across the face, “You know I can’t tell you that Mechas.”

You roll your eyes before turning from the party and trudging further into the orange colored kitchen, “And when the hell has that stopped you from telling me about what’s happening.”

“It’s different this time mija. We’re dealing with unprecedented  circumstances.”

“Unprecedented?” Your hands grip the edge of the ceramic tile, white and blue cover the kitchen island that separate you and your uncle, “You had no problem telling me about the routes the mareros setup but you have a problem with this?”

“Mechas.”

Whatever Rudy is looking to say next is left unsaid as the pale stranger ducks into your grandmother’s kitchen. Despite the doorframe being a bit too small for him he has no problem standing at full height in the room. The home fitted with raised ceilings to allow for hotter air to rise and helping with the circulation of air during the heat waves.

He looks out of place in the room. In this whole ordeal, really. Family had travelled from all corners of the continent to gather at the matriarchal home, bringing with them the different flavors of Spanish. It made the English speakers scarce, and those who were there were easier to spot, especially with an accent that’s not heard around Las Almas often.

Your eyes narrow, eyebrows drawing together, “What are you doing here?”

Simon’s eyes meet Rudy’s before they’re on you again, “Eating.”

If it’s an attempt at a joke it falls flat, annoying you further.

“If this is what the SAS considers their best I worry for the state of that island.” You scoff and turn around towards the pot holding the warm atole.

You focus on pouring yourself a cup of the warm liquid, missing the look exchanged between the two men. The creases around Rudy’s eyes deepen as his worrisome gaze settles on you.

Simon can’t help the clench he feels in his gut at the sight. He’s thankful there’s no one to worry for him the way you worry for your uncle. He wonders for a split second if Rudy can feel the weight of your worries on the field. A constant weight and anchor pulling him back to this house. To his family.

“Does Yaya know?”

“She doesn’t need to know my every move Mechas.”

Your back is still turned to him but he can still see you shaking your head, “Foreigners mean trouble. Yaya knows that better than anyone. So either you told her outright or you let her connect the dots himself by bringing him here.”

You turn, not bothering to look at either of them as you cross the kitchen in search of a spoon. Simon follows your movements across the kitchen, keeping Rudy in his peripheral as he observes the tightness in your shoulders.

“Mechas,” Rudy starts but he doesn’t get far before your glare cuts him off.

“Stop.” You place your cup down on the island with force. The liquid sloshes around the cup, circling the edge of the cup as if deciding if it wishes to spill. In the end it doesn’t, settling into itself again as the energy disperses.

“Don’t give me some bullshit promise you’re not even sure you can keep. Don’t tell me you’re coming back if there’s even a possibility you won’t.”

Simon’s been in Las Almas for a short amount of time, but he knows Rudy. Trusts this man with his life, he’s saved it a few times already. So it’s easy to follow the minuscule reactions of hurt at your words. He knows empty promises are one of the only things that keeps a soldier going. The belief that they’ll be able to make good on those promises.

No matter how many times others aren’t able to.

“I’ll bring him back.” The words slip out before he understands what he’s telling you. An idiotic thing to promise someone who he just now met.

You’re thinking much of the same if the way you glare at him is anything to go by.

“And who are you to promise anything to me?” The softness of your face is deceptive to the bite of your tongue. Simon has heard worse from men bigger than him, meaner, and yet your words slice at him the way a blade slices at skin. Quick, deep.

There’s molasses dripping down his throat, choking him, his words stick to it.

You scoff, “Your words are no good to me.”

Rudy leaves him no room to respond, stepping in and attempting to mitigate your concern. None of the words Rudy says tamp the fury in your eyes or the strange tight sensation Simon feels between his ribs.

Bringing Rudy back to you seems like the only solution for both.

—

The stranger brings Rudy back. Bruised, battered, and bloodied but alive. And in the end that’s all that matters.

There’s no words spoken between the three of you, a heavy silence fills the kitchen as you get to work on cleaning up your uncle. You pull rags from cabinets and fill shallow pails with cool water to tend to wounds. It’s a silent endeavor, only the straining of the rags filling the room with sound. You don’t know how long you tend to your uncle for, but by the time you turn to face his strange companion his water is murky too.

Rudy must have told him the rules of Yaya’s home because there’s no trace of military gear on him. The only evidence of the violence he’s experienced is the dark stain on his shirt. Whatever liquid soaked into the shirt darkens the black cotton even more. His jeans are caked in the familiar light brown color of the soil around Las Almas.

You stop the analysis as soon as you feel the bile rise in the back of your throat.

Instead, you busy yourself with grabbing both batches of murky water to drain out in the pila outside. You don’t have the energy to talk to your uncle right now, much less deal with the look he reserves for you when he comes back from missions. You just lather up the rags with zote and scrub them against the ribbed cement.

The water runs red for sometime before it slowly morphs to pink and then a slight cloudy view, until finally it’s clear. The hens cluck around you, Chancho also waddles nearby to investigate your movements as you wash.

You’re too focused on washing and not trying to think that you miss the stranger stepping out into the backyard with you. The hens don’t scare off, instead they cluck at him, winding themselves between his legs as they inspect him. Chancho does the same, slowly approaching him and sniffing around before the spotted pig decides there’s nothing important for him there.

“Questioning is the family trait then, yeah?” His voice is low, raspy, like he hasn’t spoken in days. Hasn’t had a drop of water in weeks.

You spare him a glance, not wanting to look at him for long, when his face catches your attention.

No new wounds, plenty of old ones, but the area around his eyes is covered in black. Giving him the look of a child with face paint on him. Instinctually, you wring the rag before stepping to him and starting to blot away at the black.

Whatever he’d come out to do is put on the back burner as he freezes at your movements. He barely breathes, eyes focusing on the focused look on your face as you drag the multicolored towel across his cheekbones. You don’t ask for permission as you gingerly take his jaw into your hand, moving his head every which way to get the eyeblack off of him.

“Is being pushy a family trait too?”

You scowl at him, the grip on his jaw tightening, “Is that what this is to you Europeans? We call it hospitality out here.”

“Invading someone’s personal space?”

“Taking care of someone’s son.”

He knows you don’t know anything about him, let alone the tragedy that was Manchester, but the words still manage to dislodge something in him. The idea that kind hands and homes are offered to children, no matter who they are.

He tucks that away to sit with in the future. Not now.

Now he focuses on the feel of your hands against the scruff on his jaw.

–

You’re on the outskirts of the room watching the conversation that swirls around the big wooden table. The extended that was local had gathered at Yaya’s to discuss El Sin Nombre’s capture.

It was a pointless conversation that you had no interest participating in. Win or not, the work was pointless. One narco falls, a vacuum opens up, another takes their place. Tale as old as time, something the Mexican government surely wont fix with this singular capture.

Simon is next to you, sitting silently as the low conversation fills the rest of the room. He’s watching the table while you stare out the window at the stray dogs circling the street. It takes them a minute to find the food you’ve left for them but when they finally do you make a happy noise.

“Not interested in the familial debrief?”

You snort at his question, not even bothering to look at him directly, “This family has lived through the capture of dozens of narcos. I already know how this conversation goes.”

Simon doesn’t respond, just shifts his attention to you while you continue to pay him no mind.

“Honestly would be cheaper if you would stay longer to come and catch the next one. Saves you a flight.”

“This your way of asking me to stick around?”

You can’t help the noise you make at that, “If you stick around here longer than you need to I don’t think you’ll be of any good service to the force. I hear men incapacitated by the heat don’t do well.”

He huffs out a laugh, bringing the Modelo up to his lips for a swig. The cool malty liquid cuts through the heat that seems to have invaded his mouth, much like the rest of the city. He glances around the quaint family home, heat pressing into him in a way that never has before, and realizes just how deep Las Almas has sunk it’s claws into him.

He spares you a glance, still engrossed in the activities of the strays, and studies you for a second. Your body rests against the cushions, not at ease but not tense. Always alert, he thinks to himself. The same way he is back home. Never letting his guard down, assured in his own abilities, but never wanting to get caught off guard. It’s how he’s been living his whole life.

You let out a small sigh, cheek pressing into the cushion, the pressure of your cheek pushing out your lips just a bit.

He takes another drink.

Yeah. He can stick around for a little more

[babyblankyerror]

this is so evil please give us some ALIVE stanley age regression quit killing him off 😭

Aw :c that’s no fun

[cutiepieautistic]

Tbh creature/autism creature stimboard

×/×/× ×/×/× ×/×/×

[carespace]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𓏵 Ghost Agere．

A flag for age regressors who are or feel like ghosts． This can be something that only happens when regressed， or a permanent aspect of one's existence．

Requested by : 🪽🤍 Anon．

Tagging : @bunnelbaby．

[ PT : Ghost Agere. A flag for age regressors who are or feel like ghosts. This can be something that only happens when regressed, or a permanent aspect of one's existence. Requested by 🪽🤍 Anon. Tagging @/bunnelbaby. /End PT. ]

[rat-beastard43]

AGERE SOOS!!

BECAUSE I CANT HANDLE HOW YALL HAVE IGNORED MY BOY

And headcannons because mwah I love you 💕

I feel like he'd just describe his regression as "having some kid time"

Okay so no set age range, he's just a kid! Sometimes he's younger than others but he's fairly self sufficient.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't want to be babied!! And his regression is absolutely triggered (positively) by important people doting on him.

Grandma made cookies? "Sweet!! Thanks granny :)" Stan nodded approvingly at a repair he did? An almost silent "yuss"

He absolutely made a copy of Stan's hat out of paper and got really sad when the marker he used made the paper wet and thin so it didn't stay up right, but then he got the idea to use red construction paper and oh yeah it's coming together now!!

He's got one of those pens with a bunch of colours and uses it to doodle little ninja dudes on sticky notes, they're all cutting fruit and he leaves the sticky notes everywhere.

Also it's fun to take apart and put back together as a fidget.

"hey dudes I found this pen with like- nine different colors. I could draw so many fruit ninjas with this- like apples or strawberries or.. hey I need to look up more fruits!"

His regression isn't very noticeable if that makes sense? Like he's just so openly regressed like half the time that no one bats an eye when he does something childish because 'thats just how Soos is'

He's got a favorite cup and it's an off brand snack cup that has the spot for your snacks built into the lid. Stan bought a bunch for the store with the mystery shack logo and one had a defect so he let Soos keep it

He uses it basically every day, all the time, everywhere. "It's just so convenient!!"

Throughout the series (or I guess as summer progresses) Stan gets closer with Soos and I think this plays into Soos's regression in a positive way. Stan doesn't exactly become his caregiver but he watches for Soos, makes sure he's doing okay and draws with him from time to time.

(⁠人 ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ•

The board was made using PicsArt! None of the art was mine it was all found on the app!

Side note, for anyone curious, I'm still not really back from my hiatus. I'm trying to front more, I really am. Dennys is still the host for now- I was just supposed to front for a little bit and then I saw that Gravity Falls was kicking again on Tumblr so I had to make this. Have a great day/night!! -Ghostly

Tags!!! Aaa!! I have a taglist now I guess :D

@nottapossum @grauntiemotersblog

[littlerainyghoul]

I wonder if kits (baby ghouls) are aware if their own tail. Imagine...

Little kits, barely more than fluff and mischief, tumble through the underbrush on unsteady legs. Their oversized ears twitch at every sound, and their bright eyes gleam with curiosity. But their tails — long, twitchy, and entirely unpredictable — are a mystery to them.

One kit spots the flick of its own tail. They freeze. The tail flicks again.

Enemy spotted.

With a squeaky growl, the kit spins, tripping over their own paws. The tail is gone. But wait — there it is again! The chase is on. Around and around, a blur of fur and determination, the kit circles so fast it forgets why it started.

Nearby, another kit watches, head cocked. Then its tail twitches.

Moments later, the whole den is a cyclone of tiny predators locked in a valiant, hopeless battle against their own behinds.

One by one, they collapse in a fluffy pile, dizzy, victorious, and none the wiser. Their tails, now still, curl like question marks.

[emacrow]

When Diana and her twin Jason was born after her, Jason was left to be disposed off in Amazon, only for him to disappear a second later.

Clockwork saw the possibility and took the freshly wet newborn swapping him with The Fenton's stillborn.

For what he saw in the possibility of the future was nearly endless as he did what he had to do.. for the best outcome to come forth..

A pebble here, a rocket ship toy there, an inch of furniture moved then so that incident doesn't happen, a poster paper on that tree. Minor tiny changes to help bring the visual to the present.

All leading to clockwork giving 19 year old sleep deprived danny an small yet important task to deliver a scroll in another dimension leading up to his body regressed in that dimension timeline the moment he slipped in and out the portal.

Diana knew she had a twin brother out there.. and she was going to find him.

What she didn't know that he was literally falling into her arms, when she and Superman went to check on the Glowing lararus pit portal made near metropolis.

Tiny little boy who look completely tired as he went unconscious holding a purple and green scroll in his hands, wearing clothes 3 times his size.

[gothghostiie]

age regression w simon?!? 👀

- 🔬

always<3

cw: age regression

Simon is definitely the King of preparation. no matter when or where, he always has just what you need. a paci? got it. fidget toy? got it. juice pack? take a wild guess. he wants to make sure he's ready for anything.

you just woke up from a nap in the car while you're on a trip with him, all fussy and little - you didn't even think you'd be regressing, so you didn't pack anything you may want or need. but si? he looks at you, seeing the slight pout on your face and he knows. "mornin' sleepyhead. did you have a good nap, hm?" he asks gently, testing the waters. when he's met with a whine he chuckles softly and reaches into the back, grabbing a backpack and handing it to you. your sleepy eyes light up when you see just what you wanted. he chuckles, ruffling your hair gently as you sort yourself out. "there ya go. dada always thinks ahead, doesn't he?"

[anotherbananasong]

Earth and his sleepy Little Pebble

[theclowncarcircus]

Impure!Regression Ghost who bites, hits, and spits, only to apologize later through a mess of snot and silent tears. He doesn't want to hit, he's just so overwhelmed sometimes, so scared.

Impure!Regression Ghost who hides in closets, behind couched, and under beds because he needs a tight enclosed space that he's hard to get too.

Impure!Regression Ghost who cries, and cries, and cries. Chest heaving because he keeps trying to hold his breath, face red, cries silent to avoid being a bother, getting in trouble again.

Impure!Regression Ghost who needs to be slowly, softly calmed, approached like a deer ready to buck and flee at any moment. He needs to be reminded he's safe, he's loved here. If he wasn't how come Soap has his favorite snack? How does Price know the words to his favorite lullaby?

Impure!Regression Ghost who has an amazing team of caretakers who are always there whenever he slips, no matter how hard. Who now gets to end those bad moments, wrapped up in a warm hug, with a full belly and sleepy eyes.