#ghost tickling

[allnightstay]

My Ler is a... Ghost!?

⚠️ This is a tickle fic! A playful story of a man who's come home from work to something quite different than what he's used to ⚠️

Lee: Lee, of course

Ler: A playful ghost

Lee had just come home after a long, exhausting day at work. The moment he stepped through the door, he kicked off his shoes and sighed, sinking into his couch. It was a quiet evening, just the way he liked it after a chaotic day in the office. He set his briefcase down, rubbed his tired eyes, and walked into his bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

But something felt... off.

The room was cold. Not just the usual chilly air from the drafty window, but a strange, sudden chill that made the hairs on his neck stand on end. The lights flickered above, and he shivered as a soft whisper seemed to echo through the room. Lee frowned. Was it the wind? Or... something else?

Before he could investigate further, a light, playful poke landed on his ribs. He flinched and whipped around, eyes wide, but no one was there.

"Who's there?" he called, his voice trembling slightly. His heart raced.

Another poke, this time on his side, just below his ribs. Lee jumped and spun again, but there was still no one in sight. His pulse quickened. Okay, this is either a prank, or... He glanced at the door, half-expecting someone to step out from behind it.

But there was no one.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Alright, I must be losing it," he muttered. "No one’s here."

Suddenly, the tickling sensation returned—this time, a gentle, yet persistent prod on the bottom of his feet. Lee gasped, pulling his feet up onto the bed instinctively. "Gaha!! What in the world?" he exclaimed, his heart hammering in his chest.

As he sat there, trying to make sense of it all, he felt a soft, cold breath on his neck. A shiver ran down his spine. And then—there it was again—a light tickle on his stomach.

It wasn’t a prank. And it wasn’t just his imagination.

"Who's doing this?" he demanded, but his voice had a nervous edge. "I don’t want any trouble. If you're here to mess with me, you’re gonna have to—" His words were interrupted by another burst of ticklish sensations, this time along his sides.

"Ahahha hehehey!!"

He squealed in surprise, trying to dodge the invisible fingers. The sensation was odd, almost soothing in its playfulness, but it was also unsettling. He was definitely not imagining this. As the tickling continued, his anxiety slowly began to ebb, replaced by the bizarre sensation of a weird, reluctant enjoyment.

“Okahahay!” he laughed, his defenses crumbling. "That's enohuhough!! Plehehehehease!"

But the ghost wasn’t listening. The tickling became more persistent, gentle yet relentless—poking, prodding, and tickling in all the right places. It was as if the ghost was trying to tease him, to get him to laugh. Lee couldn’t help it. Despite the fear in his chest, he burst into laughter, the tension leaving his body in waves.

"Nahahaha I cahahan't!!" he gasped, squirming and wriggling on the bed, trying to escape the playful, invisible fingers.

The ghost seemed to pause, as if waiting for a response. Lee, catching his breath, had to admit he was... enjoying this. It’s kind of fun, he thought, as weird as it is.

“Alright, alrihihihight, you’ve had your fuhuhun,” he said between laughs, trying to get a grip on himself. “I guess... I guess you're not so bad after all.”

The tickling stopped. And for a moment, everything was still.

Then, unexpectedly, a soft chuckle filled the room, light and airy, like a playful whisper in the air. Lee shivered once more—but this time, it was more out of curiosity than fear.

“Well,” he said, grinning at the odd sensation of being tickled by a ghost, “I guess we’re friends now, huh?”

The ghost didn’t respond verbally, but there was a warmth to the air around him, a playful energy that made Lee smile, even as he wiped away the tears of laughter from his eyes. And from that night on, every time Lee came home from work, the ghost was there, waiting for him to enjoy another round of playful tickles.

In the end, he found that sometimes a little laughter was the best way to chase away the worries of the world. And if that came with a ghostly tickle here and there, well, that was just the bonus.

[blee-bleep]

most favorite bit of this ep is the fact that marcille is izutsumi's favorite pillow to latch on to

[skyefeys]

an important list i kept while replaying ghost trick

[formyhyperfixation]

Cardinal or Papa ?

taken from dew.ussy

[tomurah]

Evening rest

[hopefulonion]

Love bomb 💓💣

[mushyblushyredhead]

Ok ok ONE more self indulgent Danny Phantom tkl drawing (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)✨ (I dunno how to draw Ghost Zone backgrounds afjslxn I TRIED 😭)

Lesson learned: Don’t be cheeky towards the Ghost of Time, he knows everything 🕰️

Also, this is probably gonna be the last time I spend a lot of effort detailing a drawing like an actual comic strip QwQ (my hand hurts now) /hj

[home-of-the-squirmle]

Hey. Pocket Silco getting tickled by Vander. Okay? Okay

[leathfaic]

There is so much content with RSD Soap out there that it got me thinking - what if he was really the absolute opposite?

Yeah he likes attention - everyone does to a degree, but he really doesn't need it. Can be alone with himself for weeks on end and not feel the worse for it.

But because of the way he is - outgoing, engaging, easy to like - people often think he can't possibly do without. Not realising he's so easy to be around and talk to because of how confident he is to be just with himself.

What if we get the usual snippy comment from Ghost, but instead of withdrawing into himself out of hurt, Soap just shrugs and goes "Fine, Ah'll shut up, ye see how ye like that.", turns around and leaves.

And it's Ghost who fucking suffers. Not because he's got RSD or anything either. No.

Because Soap is his friend and he doesn't have many of those. Well he's also his occasional, what are they actually? One night stands? Friends with benefits?

He probably decides it doesn't matter because he can deal with being horny. That really isn't the issue here. The issue is the empty space at his six, a presence he suddenly learnt he took much too granted.

Because Ghost is the one who feels a pang of hurt every time he sees Soap hanging out with Gaz or Price, when he notices he wasn't invited to the pub night. Because it's always Soap who invites him. Who thinks of him.

And when Soap and Gaz get sent on a mission he gets hilariously drunk after having a nightmare that Soap isn't going to come home. That their last interaction was Soap telling him to see how he liked being alone again.

He'll agonise over it in his room all night on his own. Because Ghost doesn't get help. Except for Soap. Who he can't go to.

Maybe he slinks around in the morning to Prices office, inquiring how the sergeants are doing. Thinks he's slick.

Price just telling him "You know if you got over yourself he'd take you back without even an apology. Which you owe him, by the way, whatever you did."

And Ghost is bound to fucking hate that call out, especially because he knows that Price is right.

He's agonising over it for like three more weeks before he finally caves and just slinks up and falls in place next to Soap on base somewhere.

And Soap just turns to him and smiles "Yer an idiot Lt."

And Ghost just goes, "I know." relieved as hell because he can hear by the tone of Soap's voice that they are okay.

[ghastigiggles]

flustered (warmup doodles)

[yallmakemyassitch]

Not so Ghost-like

Wanna give a big thank you for the commission and tip from @seeking-the-sunrise, this was very fun to do and drawing Ghost's mirthful expression was very wholesome.

1/5 🩷

Quick reminder that I still have 4 slots available for commissions! Read here for details and DM if you're interested!

[demonlayercake]

tormented by tickles today

[my-papa-emeritus-iv]

Is he smirking 😩🫡❤️

[synthaphone]

put viarnne into the littleguysdaily template- what he lacks in bones he makes up for in chuckability

[kacievvbbbb]

You ever think about how Mihawk definitely does not hear his name alot?

Like there are probably only 2 people in the entire world that consistently refer to him by name. To the rest of the world he’s just an epithet. He might as well have no real name for as little as he hears it.

He’ll hear it at introductions always preface by his epithet, he’ll see it in the bounty posters and notice it in the history books. But barely anyone will ever calm him that. Just a pink headed ghost girl and the red headed half of the most complicated situationship panning 20 years.

You ever think about how Shanks probably has a thousand and one nicknames for Mihawk he cycles through at a whim but maybe Mihawk’s favorite will always be the soft way in which Shanks calls out his given name like that’s all there is too it like there’s a Mihawk that exists all on its own. No matter the situation Shanks calls him Mihawk and he has his full attention

[konigsblog]

mdni - tw: dubcon (?), tickle play

tickle play with simon because it's all i can think about

his large, warm hands attacking your sides sent you into a fit of giggles. you were giggling and laughing uncontrollably, until your ribs were hurting and tears were forming at your waterline. simon's thick, slick cock slid into you, but you didn't catch it — too busy giggling to notice how he was rocking his big cock into your sore pussy.

you didn't even register the pain. simon had a smile plastered across his face, from ear to ear. his large, rough hands ran up your body to your armpits, tickling you while you pleaded for him to stop through loud laughter. a low grunt emitted from him, going unnoticed. he furrowed his eyebrows, your walls continuing to pulse and tighten around his girth, squeezing him oh so tightly...

simon's fat balls slapped against your ass, his thrusts becoming faster and more erratic the longer he drew out his orgasm. you wiped a tear from your eye, crying of laughter. pretty cheeks tearstained, leaving you flushed and hot and a mess beneath simon who was taking advantage of your vulnerability and dumbness...

and still, you didn't pay attention to the way your thighs and cunny became more and more sticky with his white, milky cum smeared across your skin. his heavy, tight balls slapping against your pretty ass as he rutted into you. he pinched your hardened and sensitive nipple with two fingers, moving his fingers to begin ticking underneath your armpits. your bodies became sweaty the more simon teased and fucked you, thrusting into you one last time before he came all inside your wet pussy.

you breathed heavily, dizzy and lightheaded. you only realised how simon had been fucking you when you felt him pull away, the heavy and hot weight of his dick easing away from your sopping wet cunt, his fingers replacing his cock. they pumped into you, and your jaw became slack from pleasure and surprise. you coated his fingers in sweet slick the more he pushed them into your hole, muttering about how stupid you were to let your guard down around him. he'd rub that spot, his thumb grazing against your sensitive clit, taunting you ‘til you came all over his abdomen.

and you're just so, so confused and tired to process how and what he was doing to you. :(