#ghost notes

[insanelyadd]

Eternally fucking annoyed by the ghost notes I get where people who are like??? I don't even fucking know, new? Flagged as bots? Shadowbanned (which staff assures us isn't real and cannot hurt us)??? They like my posts and reblog my posts and follow me but I CAN'T FUCKING SEE THEM!!! I get the note popup on the activity button and I click it and There's Nothing There. @staff JUST FUCKING MAKE THEM VISIBLE THIS IS INFINITELY WORSE THAN JUST SEEING A BOT IN MY NOTES.

[sodapopcurtis-dx-asks]

There's a St. Christopher necklace wrapped around a tightly folded note. You can see for Steve written in a handwritin the scratches at somethin in Sodas brain. like he's seen it before.

for the kid. (though fat lotta good it did me huh? ha.) figure it's the most help I can be. don't bug soda with who it's from. man. God knows he's got enough to worry about. Just know that. me n Johnny are lookin out for Pone. best we can at least. sorry 'bout. we'll. everythin.-

DW

Onto Steve's perspective after just running off, he took some labeled with his name, and others that were completely random. This one being labeled.

He pulled apart the note, and stared wide-eyed at the necklace. He didn't even have to read, he already knew who's it was— the letter and the necklace.

He couldn't help but be surprised though.

Ah, jeez, Dal.

It's safe between us, okay? Really. And, thank you.

I'll give it t'him. Just gotta make sure he don't freak or ask where I found it. God forbid they think I'm over here grave robbing. HAHA... eek.

[cosmonautroger]

Veruca Salt, Ghost Notes, 2015

[nuclearvanity]

Why do I keep getting ghost likes 😤

I'd like to think if I have someone blocked they cant see my posts 😒

[thecrystallinecryptid]

is anyone else getting ghost notes?

I keep getting notifications for two new notes, but when I click the activity thing, they're not there. just now, it said I had seven new notifs, but I looked, and there were only three.

[tampon-on-the-sidewalk]

Ghost Notifications?

So, every time one of my mutuals (more precisely, my FIANCE) likes/reblogs my posts, I will get a ‘ghost notification’.

As in, it’ll say I have new notes, I go to click to check, and absolutely nothing shows up.

But then I’ll scroll down my feed and see that he liked/reblogged my posts. Meaning the notification was for him, but Tumblr didn’t actually want to show me. 

Does anyone know why this is and how to fix it?

[a-soft-fluffy-girl]

.... It's been going on for months and I'm a little bothered by the ghost notes I keep getting. Are they notes from mature blogs or something? It'll say I got 4 notes and I look to see two new notifications. It's bizarre and I really don't like it.

[xen0lush]

if you blocked me pls unfollow cause i keep getting ghost notes >.<

[treecakes]

one follower emerges from shadowban and another enters -.-

[complex-baddie-saturday-evening]

what do all the people who give me ghost notes for whatever reasons want for christmas 🤶 asking early bc there's so much of you UwU

[sonysakura]

Mystery Skulls Animated - Ghost (Oct 26th, 2014)

Ten years ago on this day...

[goopylittleghosty]

I love my friends so much. I once read a book where the writer's mum told her to 'save ten percent of herself' from everyone and like. Nun-uh. Sorry. I love with my full heart and m o r e. I am exploding with love.

[alicentflorent]

I admire Ella Purnell’s commitment to taking time out of her busy schedule to make her regular guest appearances as a mean lesbian ghost on yellowjackets

[hatsbuckets]

Imagine Ghost accidentally conditioning the 141...

Ghost is busy. Always. Too much paperwork, too many reports, too many logistics to handle before training. It’s 1400 before he realizes he’s skipped lunch. Again.

Not a big deal. Not the first time. Won’t be the last.

But he is hungry.

His eyes land on the bright pink bag of Valentine’s Day mini Snickers that’s been sitting, untouched, on his desk for a week. They were part of a bulk shipment to the base; some gift or something.

Not exactly lunch. But it’ll do.

He grabs the bag and heads for the training field. He’s two minutes late, not that it matters much because Soap and Gaz already have the unit ready.

"Where’s Price?" he asks, tearing open the bag as he walks up.

"Got pulled away. You’ve got this one, Sir," Gaz replies, raising a brow as Ghost lifts his mask just enough to pop a Snickers into his mouth.

Ghost doesn’t react, just grunts.

Today’s drill is a simple infiltration exercise. Hell, it's something Ghost or Price hardly have to be here for. Their presence would be more of a formality. Gaz leads the attackers. Soap leads the defenders. The teams get ten minutes to plan, to prep.

And then Ghost sounds the time up, and the groups move.

Ghost watches, leaning against a crate, chewing another Snickers, barely paying attention to one of the new guys—until the kid steps right into a trap. Ghost sees it before he does.

Blue powder erupts into his face.

Soap’s defenders descend, but the kid doesn’t go down easily. Blind, but still fighting back, holding his own until his team pulls him out.

Soap's team wins. Barely.

When it’s over, the teams regroup. Ghost is still eating Snickers.

He turns to the recruit, still dusted blue.

"What 'appened?"

"Didn’t see the wire." The kid shifts uncomfortably.

Ghost turns to the unit. "Who set it?"

One of the defenders raises a hand. Ghost considers him for a moment before reaching into the bag.

He tosses a mini-Snickers at the soldier.

The guy catches it. Looks at it. Looks at Ghost. Eats it.

Ghost turns back to the newbie. "Held your own. Tha' matters. Surprises happen. Don’t let ‘em get you again."

And that’s it. Training’s dismissed. Ghost pockets the rest of the Snickers and moves on.

...

The next day, Price is still gone. Ghost doesn’t skip lunch this time, but he still brings the Snickers bag.

They run the same drill.

Same recruit. Same route. But this time, he checks everything. Quick. Efficient. Finds the wire. Disarms it.

No blue powder today.

Gaz’s team wins.

Ghost eyes the recruit and flicks a Snickers at him. The kid catches it mid-air.

...

By the end of the week, Price is still gone. Ghost keeps the pink bag of Snickers on him during training. Like it's just another part of his kit.

One or two mini snickers get handed out every session. And nobody really notices at first. But the team starts moving differently.

They work harder. Smarter. More ruthless. More efficient. No one wants to be the guy who doesn’t get a Snickers.

Even the veterans sharpen their tactics. Gaz and Soap notice. But no one says a damn thing. If Ghost is going to give them snickers, then shut the gel up and let him give them snickers.

...

They're sent on a mission. High stakes.

They don't lose a single man. Not a single injury.

At the end of it, back on their transport home, Ghost pulls the pink danm bag from some unassuming pocket and hands out the snickers.

The men take them without question. They earned it.

But Ghost is running low. The bag nearly empty.

...

At the next training, Ghost doesn't hand out a single snickers. Not on purpose, but the bag is empty, so there's nothing left to do.

But the others notice. Gaz squints. Soap looks like a confused dog. Head tilt and all. The newbies glance at each other, shifting.

...

Two days later, Ghost swings his door open at 0600 sharp—and pauses.

Sitting just outside his door, neat as you please, is a bag of mini Snickers. Not the Valentine’s ones anymore. Just regular.

Ghost blinks. Hums. Pleasantly surprised, he picks up the bag, inspecting it briefly before stuffing it into his tac vest like it’s just another piece of gear.

He doesn’t think much of it. It’s a good snack.

At training, he does as he always does. Watches. Observes. Evaluates.

And then, without thinking, he tosses a Snickers at a recruit who clears a building faster than expected.

He snaps to attention as he catches it, eyes shining. Ghost does not question it.

The pattern continues.

And when he starts running low, Ghost finds a fresh bag of Snickers waiting for him.

Somebody—somewhere—has decided that the Snickers will not run out.

...

At training, at drills, in the field, there is a silent expectation. A new, unspoken rule. Do something exceptional? Get a Snickers.

The machine of the 141—the deadliest operators in the world—now snaps to attention at the crinkle of plastic.

They move with a ruthless kind of precision, bodies coiled, eyes sharp—waiting, anticipating.

Even Gaz and Soap are part of it now—though everyone refuses to acknowledge it outright.

But the moment Ghost hands one of his men a Snickers, he takes it.

Silently. Gratefully. Like a goddamn reward.

Ghost does not acknowledge this. Not out loud. But he keeps handing them out.

And they keep earning them.

They'd quite literally kill for a Snickers. (imagine what they'd do for an expensive piece of chocolate)

...

And then Price comes back three weeks later. He walks into the training area and pauses.

Something is off.

The unit is too sharp. Too focused. The newbies stand stock still in their group, as if waiting for something.

Gaz and Soap exchange a look. Soap refuses to meet Price’s eyes.

But he doesn't acknowledge it, until he begins unwrapping a plastic sleeve holding a new pen. The plastic is thick and loud. And half of their fucking head snaps his way. The hungry eyes of three dozen of soldiers latching on him.

Ghost, standing at the edge of the group, tears open a fresh bag of Snickers.

And now the entire fucking unit reacts. Subtle shifts in stance. Focused attention. Expectant silence.

Price squints. Frowns.

Ghost flicks a Snickers at a recruit. He earned it today.

The recruit catches it like it’s a holy offering and eats it immediately.

Price’s frown deepens. Slowly, carefully, he turns to Ghost. “The fuck did I miss?”

[bertieorangy]

Y/N : I’ll do anything you want

Ghost : anything?

Y/N : anything.

Ghost : drink more water

Y/N : what?

Ghost : go outside, get back on your workout routine, stop procrastinating—

Y/N : wait—

Ghost : continue pursuing education, achieve acclamations, manifest the best version of yourself.

Y/N : WAIT— NO— PLEASE—

[junodoom]

birthday comic for wen ning 🏹

it’s still april 11th in my time zone. this counts