Here me out. Ghostly trio(separately) touch starved headcannons???
I imagine that these men haven't had proper romantic attention for a good couple of years now so imagine a partner (reader) coming over and doing the smallest things like rubbing their thumb over their knuckles affectionately or pressing a kiss to their cheek or nuzzling against their neck playfully and Thay don't entirely know how to react just at the start since it's been so long it's real physical and verbal affection has been given
Hold on now... anon is cooking crazy style.
Alright, happy first day of fall, everyone! This is to re-ignite my holiday halloween spirit and to celebrate the upcoming movie theater re-release of Casper for it's 30th anniversary!
- Oddly enough, he isn't aaaaaasss touch starved as one would think, because he gets a decent amount of approval from his brothers. I've always felt he's the baby of the trio, and all the bullying is aimed at Casper anyhow.
- What draws him to a partners physical touch is 100% the fact he can hoard it over his brothers. Being the youngest, and not as strong as Fatso or Witty as Stretch, he does get a bit insecure sometimes. Hell, even Casper, the little white worm that he is, has a friend in Katt.
- His status as the baby carries over in physical touch, too. Make him feel pampered, its nice to feel like someone's doing it because they want to, and not just because he's threatened to lock Casper out. He's definitely surprised to find out how different non-coerced affection feels.
- He's also the smallest of the three, so he uses that to his advantage. Let him hang off of you, draped around your shoulders or hanging off your purse is you're going somewhere less populated (Dr. Harvey has banned them from wandering to most public places during day time after a... PTA bake sale incident.).
- Stinky's favorite place to lay by far is on your lap. He's not that different from a cat you'd take in off the street, always lurking nearby and watching you. But in the evening, when you settle down to rest, he'll quickly slink over and curl up, head or torso on your lap to relax. It's nice, not that the house doesn't have cozy spots, but Katt is a kid and Dr. Harvey is a bit absent minded, so the sprawling manor is still in need of some room to room cleaning. Your lap is free of creaky bed frames and loose springs, or dust and cobwebs. The perfect spot for a sleepy ghost.
"Really, I need to get up. I gotta get ready for bed." You complain with a slight smile, rolling your eyes as you grip the couch armrests.
"Nah, you don't. I'm perfectly comfy here, and you're not some old lady, it's only nine. Ain't young folks supposed to stay up late anyhow?" The pale translucent specter doesn't even look up. "Sides' our shows on." He gestures to the staticy box TV brought in by Dr. Harvey to appease the trio and keep them out of the main living room. "Do me a favor and pull over the blankets?"
"I'm already doing you a favor, I could just get up and move right through you, you know." He groans in response, and does a cat-like stretch as he smacks his lips tiredly. "Fine, but we're continuing this afta' your done washing up or whateva. I'm going crash in our room."
"Yeah, consider yourself lucky I give you that, it was my room first." He grumbles, slumped over as he floats into the hall.
- Fatso doesn't often receive physical affection, but he gives it... albeit it's not in the conventional sense. In school, he was the type of boy to pull the hair of someone he likes, or poke them with pencils. He's big on horseplay and rough-housing, which given his strength and significantly numbed pain response, can sometimes be difficult to get used too.
- He'll insist it's not his fault, he's always messing with Harvey or shoving around Stinky (He doesn't even bother trying with Stretch, that ghost holds a grudge.). He's just not used to having to be gentle. Besides, you're a living! You have a squishy, fragile human body, its not his fault that you can't be squished into a ball and locked into a chest or dropped down a flight of stairs without any serious damage. He's claims he's 'a growing boy', he'll learn. Probably.
- Likely, he'll begin with the occasional tug on your hair, or a smack on your ass, even the occasional arm-lock. Anything that gets your attention. It's how he knows how to reach out. You had though at first it was just part of the trios way of dealing with folks, usual mischief and harm being present, but you quickly realize the difference in that behavior and this. Giving you a noogie is no way near as bad as his usual way of 'whacking', as he so elegantly describes. Congrats, he must like you.
- Reciproacting the affection is both a good way to begin changing his habits AND getting out of whatever sort of wrestling maneuver you're currently stuck in. Wrap and arm back around him if he's trying to strangle you, give his cheek a kiss when he's got you in a headlock. It'll get him to soften right up. Sometimes, he'll physically 'melt' a side effect of his ghostly ability to change his form. Just don't mention it to his pals, he's not particularly proud of that weakness of his.
- The gentlest he'll be in reciprocating for a while, especially in the early relationship, is if he accidently hurts you. He really doesn't mean to, he just forgets how careful you have to be with humans after being with spirits for so long. He'll pull to hard when trying to draw you somewhere, or squeeze a bit to tight, or, most commonly, forget you can't float through walls when he does a drive by snatching up of you and tries to carry you off somewhere. He doesn't initiate contact after that for a bit, but appreciates when you seem to notice its affecting him. Try to sit by him, lean on him, or offer ways you like being touched.
- He's lazy, this is well known, and he's a great partner to sleep with. He's one of the few ghosts to keep his room, at least his bed, clean. Its huge, one of those California kings, and has an extra soft mattress. He's quick to convince you to room with him when the relationship begins, its a little easier to be a bit vulnerable when you're both about to conk out.
"Nah, not feeling it, sorry, suga'-jugs." He says one day, staring out the port window near his rooms ceiling. You'd found him their after a bit of an episode in the library. He'd been messing around as usual, shaking the ladder of the bookshelf you were on to mess with you. Of course, after several bouts of you yelling for him to knock it off, he went too far and you plummeted down, luckily only bruised and annoyed.
"Come on, it's been a bit, and you already said sorry. It was a dumb thing to do, but I forgive you." You huff, tilting your head. "Just come to bed, So." You sit up, looking at him.
"Nuh-uh. I'll- I dunno, roll over and crush your squishy little living bone bag or somethin' in my sleep. Not gonna happen, I'll stay up, I think." He crosses his arms, rolling over in the air with a false grin. "May even go out, I'm a party animal, after all. No need for sleep, especially not beauty sleep." He pretends to fluff some locks he does not have.
You roll your eyes. "Fine." There's only one way to get him to give in, to mess with him just as much as he's messing with himself. "I don't want to put you out of your own room, and this big ol'bed is cold. I'm headed back to one of the guest rooms." You sigh, and grab up some items from the bed stand.
"Wha- well, hey, you're already bruised up. It's a long walk, just stay here." He's already begun floating back towards the ground slightly. "Besides, I heard this house might be," he leans in close, looking around with worry. "Haunted."
You snort and roll your eyes. "Really? I don't buy it." This makes him let out a belly-laugh in response, before sighing.
"Yeah, alright. Maybe I'm underestimating you, your a tough cookie. Just be careful, I'd hate for you to croak mid-dream." The pair of you return to bed as usual.
- By far the worst of the three, and yet the most in denial. He's plenty sleazy, feeling up on you when you think you're alone, or getting a fly by grope of your chest or somewhere else. It's his way of staking a claim in some sense, draping an arm around you and enjoying the way you squirm. However, it's also his way of getting that affection he refuses to accept he needs, without having to ask or admit he likes it.
- Like Fatso, he's plenty physical when messing with other people, and he's always pushing around and leaning on Dr. Harvey. A part of him hopes you'll see it as nothing more than that, and to your discredit, he doesn't actually think of you as smart enough to see through his ruse.
- If you should ever reciprocate, even something as leaning into his grip, he'll go quiet, grumbling something offensive yet less witty than usual, and turn himself non-corporeal, letting you fall right through him. He'll then laugh it off, trying to act as if this was his plan the whole time.
- And God forbid if you ever flirt back. His immediate response is to go quiet, sputter for a few moments while shooting you a wicked glare; and then some of the most period accurate slut shaming you've ever heard in your life. Crazy words, like floosie and hussie, a real sick puppy. He'll proceed to avoid you for a few hours, needing space to handle his feelings without prodding from his brothers.
- He'll come back after a few, surprisingly quiet. He'll make the occasional snarky comment, but for the most part he'll try to remain in the background of the evenings festivities, fiddling with a fork or shooting the occasional mushy pea at Katt's cheek.
- During a relationship, he's much more open eith being physically affectionate, but he continues to frame it as a sleazy act, or, as a favor to you. How lucky are you to have a guy like him on your arm, huh?
- Just continue to be soft on him. He really does relish in it, and one of the few times he can reciprocate is when you're asleep. Sometimes he just... watches you, creepy as it is. It's genetics, Casper watched Kat the way he looks at you. As much flack as he gives you for being a bone bag fleshie, there is something about you that's so... alive. The way your chest rises and falls, and how warm you are. The warmth has to be his favorite, he'll stretch and fit his body to mold exactly to yours.
"What's wrong, toots? The big bad ghosty scare ya?" A familiar chuckle sounds off from behind you, making you freeze up while cooking. "Don't stop on my account, housewife looks good on ya. About time you fleshies made yourselves useful." A cold, chilly trail of goosebumps spreads where a ghostly hand lands on your lower back.
"Does that make you my ghost hubby?" You joke back, leaning back a bit to get your head just under his chin. "Do I need to wait at the door for you to come home from work-"
Immediately you let out an 'oof', stomach hitting the handle of the closed oven with an uncomfortable pressure. He's shoved himself right off of you, a sneer on his face. "You're one sick puppy, huh? Ya got a death wish, any normal chicken would've screamed her head off." He shakes his head. "Don't stick your ghost dick in crazy, that's a rule I live by-" He pauses. "Well, died by. I'm outta here, and don't get know of your gross sappiness in that food, dig?" He floats off through a nearby vent, trying to ignore the fact he's only rushing off to his room to try and insulate the little heat left on his ghostly form inside whatever dusty quilt is currently on his bed.
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