#ghost ramble

[genderlessghoul]

8, 15, 18

8 : Have you been to a ritual?

I haaaaave I was at the Bridgeport ritual on August 20th. It was actually on my sister's birthday, when I told her I wouldn't be there that day, she asked me why and I just sent her a Swiss gif. She was like "are you fuckin kidding me".

I'm Canadian and I got there by bus, spent 20h travelling to the show. Would do it again in a heartbeat. It was everything. I'll never stop bragging about playing rock paper scissors with Swiss and Phantom

15 : Favourite ghoul costume era?

THIS ONE WAS MEANT FOR ME I SO HOPED SOMEONE WOULD ASK.

Impera in a heartbeat, I live for complicated costumes with infinite amount of details. There's so much happening on those costumes when you take the time to study them it's INCREDIBLE. From the fabric choices that are all so rich and different, to the accessories that were thought through down to the literal buttons on the shirts, I cannot not love them.

I adore the vests, the shape in the front and the metal work they did for those clasps. They're so detailed for something that's never getting seen from up close I LOVE it! The choice of the fabric makes me feral too, I'm not much of a fan of paisley pattern on a regular basis but that one??? Gorgeous to no end. Also a pain in the ass to find but that's another story. Also the back of their jackets??? Please 😩😩😩

And the capes!!! I know they were so impractical for the guitar-playing ghouls but FUCK were they gorgeous on them 😩 the contrast of the light blue satin with the (I'm pretty sure) black suede??? Insane. Beautiful. Gorgeous. The harness system they came up with so the capes wouldn't move around too much is also very much to be admired.

And don't even get me started on the helmets, I mean the idea to change the masks for helmets in and of itself is brilliant. But the design itself is simply gorgeous, so different from what we'd seen before with Ghost. ESPECIALLY different from what we'd seen with Prequelle, that was essentially just a remix of the Meliora masks. The execution of the design is amazing and I loved the idea of personalizing the helmets to each ghoul, so sad they got rig of that in the middle of the European leg. If they decide to ditch Dew's white horns, I might actually start a riot ngl.

If I could be left alone in a room with one of those costumes for 10 fucking minutes I'd truly die happy. Okay I'll move on or else I'm never shutting up.

18 :Favourite Ghost shirt?

Not really a shirt but I just have to say my batwing hoodie. I bought it at my ritual and let me tell you I had DREAMT of that hoodie! It was a lot of fucking money but so worth it, it's comfy as fuck. I'm so glad I got the official Ghost one instead of byuing the cheaper Hot Topic one cuz the HT one doesn't have a grucifix on the zipper and the print in the back is not the same quality.

[boyplushie]

going to sleep & by sleep. heh. well. let's just say. phone in bed

[sadmages]

Having ocs is fucked up they make you wake up and think stuff like what if i learn to code in renpy and make this into a visual novel. Who said that

[rememberwren]

Thinking about how when you’re drunk—and I mean really drunk—you get it in your head to catcall men. They could use a little harassment. When you reach that point, your friends immediately know it’s time to cut you off, acting like the Secret Service as they usher you out of the bar and towards the Uber. But they couldn’t anticipate the group of men standing outside the bar swapping laughs and smoking.

Of course you pick the scariest one of the lot and:

“Hey!” you shout, half giggling. “Hey—you, in the mask!”

The man turns. You can’t see his mouth with the surgical mask in place but you can tell his eyebrows are raised. He’s fucking huge, towering over his counterparts (who are nothing to sniff at), thick and strong. His head cocks in silent question.

“Can I get your number?” you shout, licking your friend’s hand when she slaps it over your mouth. All your friends rush to brush the guy off, but he’s already ashing his cigarette under his boot, slipping his hands into his pocket, and crossing the street quietly.

He stays a healthy distance away, aware of how it looks: a man his size approaching a group of young, inebriated women. You think he’s come to harass you in return, or maybe just to mock you—either way you are stunned silent, mouth agape, eyes wide. He’s so much taller up this close.

“Got a pen?” he asks.

He only approaches then, shoulders hunched to make himself appear smaller and innocuous. He takes your hand in his own and writes his phone number on your forearm.

When you wake up hungover the next morning, his number is there on your arm along with a reminder that you hadn’t been able to see in the dim lighting of the parking lot: XXX-XXXX—S. Drink water.

[starsofang]

Simon didn’t like to hold you. He liked to be held.

At first, you didn’t understand why he’d turn his back to you in bed without saying anything. You thought you’d done something to him, or maybe he was in a bad mood. You couldn’t be any more wrong.

Simon Riley, an absolute brute of a soldier, was silently asking for you to be the big spoon. You nearly didn’t believe it when he finally brought it to your attention.

He was too embarrassed to ask you, so he’d resort to flipping on to his side and wait. And wait. Until he realized you didn’t catch the memo, even after many hopeless attempts.

In his mind, he thought being the big spoon would somehow convince you he wasn’t manly enough, as if his title in the service or his pure stature wasn’t proof enough of his masculinity.

To him, being held was a blanket of security. Where he’d always have to watch his back out on the field, both literally and metaphorically, he didn’t have to keep an eye out at all times with you. It was a chance for him to find solace in a person, and when he explained this to you, he was surprised to find you so willing.

And oh, when it happened, Simon nearly kicked himself for holding back on verbalizing it for so long.

The warmth of your arms when they wrapped around him from behind, your face buried between his shoulder blades, legs tangled in his, he thought that this was what inner peace felt like.

He was silly to think you’d ever be the one to judge him for what most deemed ‘unmasculine’. In all of his broad glory, he felt safe the moment you held him, like a child does when they feel a mother’s embrace except it was from someone he loved dearest to his heart.

And you? You found that being the big spoon was rather enjoyable when the man you’re holding was so damn comfortable to snuggle up to. It was a win-win for you both.

You just wished he wasn’t an idiot that left you wondering all those hopeless nights until the truth came out.

[simply-ewok]

rolling over, half asleep, in the middle of the night and when you stretch your arm out you end up smacking ghost in the face, and you can’t help but fling yourself back with a loud gasp before realizing it’s just your man, who yet again, snuck inside and cozied up to you without stirring you (bc he hates waking up his baby) bc he was able to come home early and chose to surprise you. and after you relax and begin apologizing for hitting him you hear his low, growly chuckle as he sits up to pull you into his chest, kissing your forehead before mumbling into your sweet smelling hair “it’s all right lovie, di’n’t mean to scare you.”

[rejectedbytheempty]

actually, ykw? imagine if simon had a civilian s/o and bc he’s constantly away and the partner is there most of the time anyways, he lets them decorate the place.

they make it so cozy with a million lamps with stained glass lampshades and tapestries on the walls and an unexpected number of stuffed animals on the bed.

one time, simon invites tf 141 to his flat and their jaws dropped, bc ofc simon didn’t warn them about the absolute pinterest board that his place was.

in fact, he hadn’t mentioned a partner at all, or to you that his team would be coming over so you’re still in one of simon’s raggedy old t-shirts with a handful of dry cereal halfway to your mouth.

it’s generally a shock for both parties, simon excluded, who seems to settle himself right in, kissing the top of your head, eyes crinkling slightly as he grins, looking rather like a cat showing off the bird he dragged in.

you had some choice words for him later, but for now, you brushed the crumbs off your face and wiped your hands off on your shirt before sticking your hand out to the team to introduce yourself.

surprisingly, it goes rather well. all things considered. the team is charmed by you and your ability to make ghost blush and smile endlessly. and you’re absolutely enamored with the fact that they keep complimenting your decor.

[tojisun]

just. something about being pulled to simon’s lap and being told to ride his thigh makes me feel heady. the way you are told to get off using him; and so you do, rutting slowly, muted pleasure not enough to bloat your euphoria. you claw at his chest and at his stomach, fisting the fabric of his shirt because every glide is just. it’s not enough.

your teeth dig into the flesh of your lips as you move your hips at his beckoning; simon holds onto your waist for purchase, not really manhandling you but using it as leverage. as means of propping you up again after every jolted curl of your body. you don’t know how much more of this you can handle because god, you need more.

but simon just pushes your hair away from your face after every watery plea you warble out, and presses a long kiss on your temple, before murmuring, “jus’ once, yeah sweet’art? won’t you do that f’r me?”

and when simon asks this way — when your pleasure is his just as much as it is yours, even when his cock is left straining underneath his boxers — you find that you can’t… deny him of his pleas. of his rumbled sweet talking.

so you nod, huffing only for it to splinter as a particular glide on his thigh rubs on your sex beautifully. you hiss, eyes fluttering. simon responds with an equally pleasured hum.

“go on, baby,” he coos. “wan’ see you cum like this.”

“ok-ay,” you gasp out, your voice so quiet and weak because everything is just so much wetter now. messier. your sensitive skin feels fever-warm pressed on his slicked thigh, and you hump on him harder, chasing that rising pleasure.

that peaking bliss, leaving your toes curling because you’re so close—

the only thing you remember during your orgasm was the feeling like your ears are packed with cotton, leaving you to hear the world in this fluffed up static that pinches every iota of sound into a heavy white noise.

fuck.

simon’s right. this is fun.

[ink-n-shadow]

currently having the softest thoughts about dad!simon :’))

like the way he’s stripping off his Henley t-shirt at the hospital right after you give birth because he “read somethin’ about how bein’ skin to skin is better fer ‘em,” not wasting any time in letting your newborn child rest on his tattooed chest while you take a small break.

or how he would gently push you back into bed when the baby starts crying in the middle of the night (especially in those first couple of days), answering your mumbled annoyance with a smeared kiss to your forehead and pulling the comforter up higher around your body. “haven’t ‘ad good sleep in nine months, lovie—i’ll take care of the bug, ‘lright? tha’s it, go back to bed sweetheart.” takes care of the baby while he watches footy and rugby, one arm cradling the swaddled up little one against his chest as the other nurses half a beer (the other half having been poured into soap’s cup of whiskey, “fer added flavor”).

the boys actually enjoy having to transition from nights out to the bar to nights crowded in yours and simon’s basement. they all take turns cradling your newborn gently, snapping at each other when they get a bit too rowdy and more than happy to give you a break from the baby whenever you needed it.

[the-ellia-west]

HOW TO WRITE ROMANTIC ATTRACTION FOR DUMMIES

For anyone who wants to learn, (especially aro/ACE, aspec, ect.)

Requested by the lovely @darkandstormydolls

Alrighty! Welcome back or welcome to my blog! I'm dipping my toes back into the category of posts that gained me my exposure!

So if you're here, you want to know how to write romantic attraction/romance!

Strap in and let's begin!

(Pls spread this to people you think would benefit from seeing it, or anyone who requested it bc I forgot, ANY ASPECS)

Step one -

Your characters must admire one another at the beginning, Romantic feelings usually do not present themselves as obvious until you really think them through, meaning your characters may not notice they have a crush until it's too late

These are general statistics and light stereotypes. So feel free to not use this tip:

Male characters usually tend to notice physical things first, like body shape, hair, skin, clothing, the way their lover moves, ect

And Female Characters Generally tend to notice more small things and personality-based traits first, like their lover's humor, speaking mannerisms, shifts in expression, ways they fidget, emotion in their voice, ect.

And someone who is in love will generally show more interest in this particular person's movements, actions, words, and anything in general.

Step 2 -

The character will show more interest in sharing their love language with their lover/crush

Physical touch - People with physical touch love languages may want to hold hands, cuddle, hug, or just lean on their crush whenever they are close to them moreso than they want to with others

Gift giving - Gift givers will want to get more gifts more often for their crush, probably thinking of them whenever they see little trinkets or wanting to get them big gifts for special occasions or signs of appreciation

Acts of Service - Acts of service people will offer to do extra favors and a bunch of extra stuff they don't have to do twice as much as normal

Words of Affirmation - Flattery, they will generally flood their crush with kind words and compliments

Quality time - Quality time people will want to spend time with their crush at almost every turn, and when they want company, will turn to their crush first

Step 3 -

After a while, these urges while become very prominent and more noticeable to the person having them

They may find themselves fantasizing about their crush or having them show up in their thoughts more and more, feeling nicer and happier when they're around, or when they're thinking about them

Smiling when they think about them, cutsey little fluff thingies like that

A crush is essentially: I want to date that, I want to be near that always, I want to marry that, I want that to snuggle me (or other love languages)

Or in simpler terms: if that asked me out, I would say yes (or at least want to say yes if your character is in denial)

Step 4 -

The character's urges to be close to this person grows strong enough that they do smth about it, whether prompted by another character. Or they just don't know I how to not anymore (like when you wanna eat candy and you don't want to, but you do anyway bc I JUST NEED THE CHOCOLATE OKAY?)

(Or for Aro/Ace, garlic bread)

People who are in love are generally very prone to be all dreamy and poetic and VERY EXTREMELY BIASED towards their crush

Then Yada Yada they kiss & shit

You're welcome, BYEEEEEEEE 👋

Happy writing!

Love you! Thanks for reading, And Ghost Tumblr Mother says go drink some water and have a snack, you've earned it, and you are beautiful <333

Have a good day! :]

@blue-kyber @thisisntrocket @cosmolumine @i-do-anything-but-write @paeliae-occasionally

@supercimi @the-letterbox-archives @sunglasses-in-the-bentley @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @artsandstoriesandstuff

@corinneglass @wyked-ao3 @urnumber1star

[bluerosefox]

Always Favors You

Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!

"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.

All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.

Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.

"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was riding on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.

The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)

The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.

"Jason Peter Todd,

You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.

Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.

Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.

You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposal and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.

Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.

PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.

I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.

Ah, one more thing.

The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."

Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.

[quadrantadvisor]

Imagine if the GIW started gunning for Jason without the Batfam ever meeting Phantom. Like, Bruce has to figure out on his own that the guys in white suits with Lazarus guns are 1. a legitimate government agency, and 2. are perfectly within their rights to hunt Jason like an animal, because 3. there's secret government legislation that says that since Jason's body processes ectaplasm, he's classified as non-sapient and has no legal protections.

Bruce calling up Clark like

Bruce: I am currently in the process of breaking into a government facility in order to dismantle their operations.

Clark: Okay? Do you need... help?

Bruce: Yes.

Clark: Sure, I'll be right there.

Bruce: Not that kind of help. Oracle is sending you the files now. I'd like you and Ms. Lane to make these people wish they were never born.

Clark: [speed-reading the documents] Oh yeah, can do. This is truly disgusting. If the public is half as outraged as I am, we'll get this sorted as fast as the courts can manage.

So Clark Kent acts as a whistle-blower, the Justice League publicly condems the Anti-Ecto Acts as inhumane, the GIW is disbanded, and Batman gets pardoned for all of those crimes that he technically did by assaulting federal agents. And after all that gets sorted, some white haired kid pops up in the Watchtower like "haha thanks for that I really didn't want a war between Earth and the Infinite Realms" and the League are like "wait what"

[majinbangus]

Being sick but wanting ice cream so you try to sneak out in the middle of the night to buy some like a disheveled gremlin all stuffy and sweaty, feverish in nothing but your pajamas and bathrobe, but just as you're about to leave, the light turns on and a pair of arms wrap around your waist to drag you back in bed for rest.

"Ach?! What the-?"

"Thought you could sneak away, huh?" Your man grumbles, unyielding as he (gently) manhandles you along, shooting you a mean stink eye for your attempted misadventure. "I'm special forces; where did y'think you were goin', sweetheart?"

You feel yourself start to sweat and not from the fever. "No-nowhere, darling, I was just-"

"Using pet names won't butter me up." He tightens his hold when you get squirmy. "Stop that. You need rest, y'muppet."

You blame it on your fever-addled brain, but you try to bargain with him. Promise to be good if he lets you go. Tell him how happy it'd make you if he granted this one wish. A lot of woe, is me peppered in your plea. As it turns out, he's got an iron will, and you need to work on your persuasive skills. Not surprising, but still.

"I want ice cream!" You half-heartedly thrash in his arms, making him click his tongue, adjusting his grip as to not hurt you.

"Fuckin'- stop that!"

"No, lemme go!"

Your feverish resistance is no match for his strength. All you pull from him is a frustrated grunt, annoyed with your antics.

"You're sick. Where you need to go is our bed." He leans in close to your ear, lowering his voice to a growl. "Or do I need to tie you down?"

The threat has the desired effect and makes you go limp in his arms, if a little pouty. You know he would do it. He's done it before, and he'll do it again. He's a man of his word, and (majority of the time) you know when to listen.

He successfully wrangles you back in bed, getting you to lie back down in warm sheets with little complaint. No rope is necessary, but he wraps you up in his arms just in case. A tried and true form of pinning you down. You never thought he'd use this method against you while you were incapacitated, but you're a wily one, even when you're sick. He'll make sure you can't escape.

You may have failed your little mission, but it's not too terrible of a loss. Not when it led you to being cuddled in his arms.

You still wish you got your ice cream, though. It's been forever since you had some. Too bad you'll only get to painfully, dramatically, yearn for your lost love now.

There's a deep chuckle puffing against your ear, and then you're being hugged tighter to your captor.

"I know that look. Don't pout. I'll get you your ice cream. Just get better for me first. Alright, mischief?"

... Alright.

[rememberwren]

Thinking about how angry Ghost would be behind the wheel with fem!reader touching yourself in the passenger seat. He’s white-knuckle gripping the steering wheel, jaw tight, probably playing at unaffected but missing by a mile. Reaches out to violently shut off the radio so that he can hear the wet sounds of your fingers slipping against yourself, because he likes the torture, really.

He’s too straight edge to offer assistance (and too self-aware of his own tenuous driving skills to risk your safety), refuses to even look away from the road until he jerks to a stop at a red light. Only then does he turn to take you in spread out in the passenger seat, shirt hiked up over your breasts, hand shoved down the front of your leggings, thighs shaking.

“Light’s green, Simon.”

“I know what it is.”

[starsofang]

simon had a bone to pick with you. a rather big one. why in god’s name were you, his girl, going on a date with johnny? granted, you weren’t exactly his, per se, but you damn sure weren’t anybody else’s.

he wasn’t the jealous type. sure, the thought of you laughing with johnny, kissing johnny, had his blood boiling, his fists tensing with the urge to hit the closest thing, his jaw pulled taut. and maybe he had a knot in his throat and a weight in his chest, but he wasn’t jealous, no.

being jealous meant he felt threatened, and simon was not threatened. you just had to be reminded of who you belonged to, right?

you sure as hell didn’t seem to mind as he plowed into you from behind, his chest to your back, hand curled around your throat while you choked out the most obscene noises he’d ever heard.

johnny was long forgotten from your mind, wiped away so it could be refocused on only simon and the way his cock filled you to the brim, slamming into your g-spot with every angry thrust.

how could you even think that you’re anybody else’s when he’s the only one who can have you creaming on his cock, brain so fucked out you could barely utter a word besides his own name?

he wasn’t jealous. at the end of the day, he knew exactly who you belonged to and whose cock left you dumb.

[zhelin-thames]

A Ghostly Text Mishap

Danny flopped onto his bed, phone in hand, glaring at the screen. Another long day of dealing with Vlad's manipulative nonsense had left him frustrated beyond belief. He opened his messages, found the contact labeled Trucker, and began furiously typing.

Danny: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time. The absolute NERVE of this guy. You’d think being half-dead would make someone LESS petty, but nooo, this man’s ego is bigger than the Ghost Zone.

Danny: He tried to "buy" my parents' company AGAIN. He offered to “help” with ghost containment tech but really just wants to snoop around for weaknesses in the portal.

Danny: AND he had the audacity to call me “Little Badger” like it’s a term of endearment. I swear, if I hear that ONE MORE TIME, I might go full ghost and dropkick him into the Fenton Thermos.

Satisfied with his venting, Danny tossed his phone onto the bed and buried his face in his pillow. Unbeknownst to him, he had made one critical mistake.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, was sitting in his safe house, polishing his guns when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen.

Unknown Number: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time…

Jason raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is this?” he muttered, scrolling through the tirade. By the time he got to “Little Badger”, he was smirking.

He typed back:

Jason: Kid, I think you’ve got the wrong number. Unless this “Plasmius” guy is a Gotham villain I’ve somehow missed.

Danny’s phone buzzed, and he rolled over to check it. His heart dropped when he saw the reply.

Danny: Oh no. This isn’t Trucker, is it?

Jason: Nope. But you’ve got my attention. Who’s Plasmius, and why does he sound like the type of guy I’d shoot on principle?

Danny hesitated, then decided to just roll with it.

Danny: Short version: he’s a half-ghost fruitloop billionaire who’s obsessed with ruining my life, becoming my creepy stepdad, and taking over the world. Think Lex Luthor but undead and ickier.

Jason burst out laughing, earning a curious glance from Roy Harper, who had just walked in.

“Who’s got you laughing like that?” Roy asked, setting down a bag of takeout.

“Some kid who texted me by mistake,” Jason replied, showing him the messages.

Roy skimmed them and snickered. “Plasmius? Sounds like a knockoff vampire villain.”

Jason’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

Jason: Okay, kid, you’ve officially got my interest. I don’t know who you are, but if this Plasmius guy’s half as bad as you say, I’ve got some creative ways to deal with him. You in Gotham?

Danny stared at the message, blinking. Who even was this guy? But... he did sound like he knew how to handle problems.

Danny: Uh, no. I’m from Amity Park. It’s kind of a supernatural hotspot, so I’ve got it covered. But thanks for the offer, I guess?

Jason smirked.

Jason: Supernatural hotspot? Kid, you’re talking to someone who’s been resurrected. Ghosts don’t scare me.

Danny froze. Resurrected? Oh no. This guy might actually know about the supernatural.

Danny: ...Wait, who ARE you?

Jason: Name’s Jason. Most people call me Red Hood. Ever heard of me?

Danny blinked, then groaned. “Of course. I text a vigilante. Just my luck.”

Danny: ...Yeah, I’ve heard of you. So, uh, thanks for not tracking this number and showing up at my house or something.

Jason: Yet.

Danny felt a shiver run down his spine.

Danny: That’s not funny, dude.

Jason: Relax, Little Badger. Your secret’s safe with me. For now. But hey, if you ever need help dealing with your undead billionaire problem, hit me up.

Danny sighed, shaking his head.

Danny: Sure. Thanks, I guess?

Jason leaned back, grinning as he saved the number under Ghost Kid.

“Roy, I think I just found the weirdest contact in my phone.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Roy replied, tossing Jason a burger.

“Not bad. Just… different.” Jason chuckled. “Plasmius, huh? Sounds like fun.”