#ghostguy

oh he so does. bonus if he’s assumed his physical form (it’s his day! he’s stronger than usual!) so you can see his sardonic grin shining down at you. anytime you try to push back and make him finish you off, he just shakes his head and goes, “you wanna come? you should’ve worn green.” he also says some shit like “i know you have green in there, love,” nodding to your closet as he speaks. “that little green top … your green dress … those green panties.”

whos your favorite pokemon? 

he senses the change in you, but he isn't alarmed. he smiles, slow and soft, almost menacingly even though he doesn't intend for it to be that way. he's stroking the skin beneath your chest as he casually asks you, "what's wrong?"

my shayla

hmmm i see the vision like you’re fucking someone else maybe you’re giving them head or something and then there’s hands between your thighs and fingers pressing into your entrance.

you desperately need a new apartment. anything will do, so long as you don't have to leave behind the life you've created and move back in with your parents. you're desperate to remain your own person with freedoms that only come from having a place that is truly yours. and now you have one. except it's not really yours. there's something else here, someone else here with you. you see movement from the corner of your eye in the living room, you feel breathing down your neck in the kitchen, you feel eyes on you as you wash your hair in your shower. you're not alone here, and that should scare you shitless but for some reason, it doesn't.