When You Run Out Of Oil Based Makeup Remover While On Base

my favorite version of ghost is when the author describes him having a fucked up face, broken nose improperly set, chipped and missing teeth, scars everywhere, cleft lip, acne+acne scars. grabby hands. gimme

GYAAATTTT GHOST???? CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP YEEEOOOOWWCHHHH!!!!!!

love me some big mean simon but love me some big INSECURE overthinker simon even more. simon who's so big and awkward and out of place, certain he's not deserving of such a sweet sweet girl like you and somehow still gets to dig his grubby fingers into you, bruising you like the soft skin of overripe peaches, sinking his teeth into you. you're so smitten with him meanwhile he's convinced that he's the scum of the eart, undeserving to be the dirt beneath your feet. dreamy sigh.

"Please, just a couple more times? Please?"

Your kid is relentless. You're tired from a whole afternoon of fun, and your arm's sore. You gently explain this to them, smiling weakly when they pout. Then you look at your husband, whose eyes shock you. Simon looks as letdown as the kid. The paper of his face mask subtly moves, and your brow pinches in confusion, unable to make out what he's trying to say. Then he lifts his free hand. Three. Three more.

You huff, a little grin overtaking your weariness. You're reminded these moments are not just for the kid, who holds one hand each as they walk between you, but for Simon, too.

It breaks your heart when you think of what he did not have or experience as a child. 

So, you bend slightly and squeeze your kiddo's hand. 

"Okay, three more swings. Then my arm's going to fall off."

Your kid giggles madly as you and Simon swing them again. Simon's gaze is fond and soft, low chuckles rumbling out as he watches the kid's feet come up off the ground. When you inevitably reach swing number three, your eyes meet again. This time, it's you who raises three fingers.

Simon deserves all this and more.

Guys i did a reel Instagram 😭

Ghost and Soap being a cute couple ✨

they invented a new salad named dont be scared everything will work out

i might be doing really terrible on the emotional regulation front but in my defense ive had a gaping hole in my chest since i was 12

it is so vital to my well-being to have more possessive, delusional gaz. like.. having a one night stand w him and you accidentally blurt out that you love him while you're in the middle of a life-changing orgasm.

albeit awkwardly, you manage to send him off in the morning without any issue. he was cute but you couldn't see yourself in a long-term relationship w him, so you've already made up your mind to ghost him. then the texts come. he's hounding you for days after, ranging from casual invitations to dates, to possibly half-naked selfies. it's like he doesn't understand why you wouldn't be responding.

you finally glimpse one of the messages on your homescreen (you've been leaving him on delivered, not daring to open the messages) where he says you "confessed your love” to him, which means you two must be serious.

inwardly cursing yourself for the slip, you realise you just need to block him before this escalates further.

he's concerned that he can't reach you, but luckily remembers your address from your first night together. maybe he'll just need to teach you how to accept a loving and caring man into your life <3

warming up