My Pretty Boy - Blog Posts

Oooo!!! My pretty boy!!! 😍😭😳❤️💗😍🥹💕💖 ARGSFGRGSWJJVSU!!!!! Absolutely beautiful and perfect!!!!!!!

Fulgrim by HEIZ

I LOVE YOU TOO MY DEAR

I'M CRYING

YOU GUYS

I LOVE YOU

Every Tally Hall person (@dirty-toad )

Needs their Will Wood person

Just one page of me trying some diferent styles on Steve for a test (Sometimes I just don't know what to do with his hair and urggg!)

he's so.

LOOK AT MY POOKIE, HES SO CUTE, I LOVE HIM);

As I walk on down this road, I know I'm not alone

But sometimes I feel no hope.

Need him.

Idk what about this man screams cryptid but honestly. This was fun.

h/c that soap insinuates ghost is ugly for months, because it's the only thing he can think of for someone so skilled and too elusive to have any visible flaws, and he can't be nice even to his favorite superior. and ghost is amused by it, mostly because it's the least mean thing he's heard about him.

up until it's price who gets a little too loose lipped during a visit to the pub that, as usual, is missing ghost. he lets a nickname slip from way back before simon was ghost of pretty boy riley and soap's stupid, pining brains latches onto it.

and of course, his usual taunts reflect this change.

instead of saying ghost is doing them all a favor by covering up his ugly mug, he finds himself saying that ghost has done them all a favor because he'd be too much of a sight for sore eyes for them all to aim right. instead of saying that he should take off the mask to really scare hostiles, he finds himself saying ghost should take it off to stun them.

ghost reacts just the same, with some quip or a huff of a laugh. but that little bit of attention is always enough to feed soap.

he really learns how this change makes ghost feel when he's covering him while soap's setting up charges in the basement of a building, left completely unguarded. he doesn't even think when he tells ghost "just sit there and look pretty for me. a little bit o' eye candy while i work never hurts."

and ghost just had to pick that day, of all days, to ditch the grease paint that would hide his red face well enough for sunglasses.

something about a quiet night with simon in your kitchen; of him hefting you up by your hips to place you on the counter, slotting himself between your legs before dropping low to kiss you; of him bumping noses with you, making you giggle as he huffs, his cheeks thrumming with warmth.

“m’bad,” he says, his breath fanning over your lips. “jus’ really wanted t’kiss you, s’all.”

“s’okay,” you coo, throwing your arms over his shoulder. “i wanna kiss you so bad too.”

“oh yeah?” he hums, teasing, and you feel more than see the way his lips tug up in a crooked smile.

you roll your eyes at his weak tease before pulling him down, finally claiming that kiss because you can’t wait anymore. it’s just a peck, it’s not heated or weighted, and your noses are still slotted awkwardly but you breathe him in, hearing the hum of your refrigerator and the quiet ticking of your oven, and simon’s back in your arms, and truly, you think that this might just be the best kiss you’ve ever had.