#because i want more of it

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

GHOST SPIDER GHOST SPIDER GHOST SPIDER

The noccoro angst with this reversal is beautiful! GIVE ME PISSED OFF NETEYAM WHO RESENTS JAKE FOR ABANDONING SPIDER

Give me neteyam who is racked with massive amounts of guilt and torment over not rescuing Spider and having to live with the fact that he's dead and only neteyam knows and can only see him....

I think the only person who would believe him would be Kiri, considering how in tune she is with eywa and her surroundings.

Give me Neteyam trying to help put Spider's spirit to rest, but Spider is so far gone that it's impossible to even try, because Spider's spirit is just so broken from everyone turning their backs on him and abandoning him to the sky people and him feeling like he's not good enough to pass on into Eywa's embrace.

"You left me to die!" Spider screamed.

"I-I never wanted to leave you behind! None of us wanted too leave you behind!" Neteyam cries out as tears roll down his cheek.

"LIAR!" Spider screams as the marui shakes violently from Spider's furious rage.

GOD YES THANK U FOR SCREAMING WITH ME ABOUT THIS. HOW DARE YOU WRITE THAT.

(If you guys don't know what we are talking about, it's the ghost of Guilt by @undercoverpan which is like a Spider ghost version of our Neteyam ghost au and we are all literally insane for not thinking of that first).

I know we've all been on our Neteyam hiding his relationship with Spider shit, but I feel like this is the perfect opportunity for him to just say fuck it and just start saying everything and going off on everyone. I KNOW Kiri would believe him, and I think Lo'ak would too, he looks up to Neteyam too much not too. The tragedy that even if he can get through to Spider ghost and they can reconcile and he can prove to Spider that he loves him and that the kids all care and never wanted to leave him, it ultimately doesn't matter. Spider is still dead and Neteyam is still just seeing a ghost.

(If any of you are into The Black Phone and also are into very sad and tragic ghost love stories, feel free to check out Holding On and Letting Go by Nizhoni93, which this fic reminded me of in the hopelessness it made me feel in the ghost of a loved one being right in front of you, but not really there at all. It's so incredibly well written. Little tw for implied rape/non con, but if you know The Black Phone you know).

Fun edit to my draft of this: got distracted rereading that fic, please have a long list of quotes from it that really haunt me and that I feel really fit our ghost love au:

"He curls in on himself, crying quietly. I lay beside him on my side, head lying on my arm, watching him. A heavy blanket of grief covers us both. There’s a block of moonlight coming through the window. It splits us down the middle, me in shadow and Fin bathed in the silvery blue streak peaking through the jarred curtain. It’s almost ironic. That we’re laying on opposing sides now, like it was always inevitable. This frail seam divides us more than I feel. Light and dark. Life and death. Maybe we were just never meant to be in each other’s worlds."

"When he falls asleep again, I want to reach across that fragile line of midnight, that mystical brink between us, and urge the sweaty strands off hair out of his face. I imagine imprinting myself under Fin’s skin, leaving new and warm dreams of us to replace the cold bruising ones the Grabber left behind.

There’s an anchor in my chest that stops me. I’m never gonna’ touch Finney Blake again. Am I?

All we have is whatever this is.

And whatever this is, it’s harder than anyone can ever imagine."

"Sort of struts down the hall sometimes — which admittedly, is kind of cute. Now that I'm dead, I can own that. Finney Blake is cute. It's not like I have anything more to lose in saying so."

"Instead I could have stuck around and spent a lifetime making sure I was protecting Finney Blake from myself and from anyone who could dare to get in his way. Now I'm the reason he's getting in his own way.

He spends hours in day, refusing to forget me. He's sad when he wakes up and he's sad when he goes to bed. When he's not sad, he's angry."

"I like you Finney Blake...only you'll never know it. You'll think I liked older girls with angry philosophies. But I like you, for your sweetness and how clever you are. I like you for being funny and gentle and brave and impossible to give up."

"'I can’t shake him.' Finney mumbles, his words sounding exhausted and hazey, 'He’s still everywhere. He won’t go away.’

'I know kid. He’s still got me too.'

Fin hitches on another cry.

'Robin…'

My heart perks. I need him to never quit saying my name. Even when he’s sad, I want it to be his. Only his.

'…I know you said I could do this, but I can’t. Why’d you have to go?'

I shake my head at him, 'I haven’t left Fin. I'm with you till the world stops spinning if you want me. I ain’t going anywhere.'"

"He squeezes Donna's hand, but I feel the pressure constricting my heart instead. There's no more blood left in me to spare, but if there were it'd be at Fin's discretion to start pumping the life back into my veins where it belongs."

"That hasn't changed Fin. I'll always be around to have yours, I want you to have me right back. I wish I could be the one to help you break down the walls you've built since I died, instead of being the reason those bricks were laid. Donna Thompson is around to help you miss me, but what if I don't want to be missed? I just want to be in your face and hold your face and kiss your face and make you never forget me."

"'I have faith, just not in who you'd expect.'

'Then who?'

He looks up, steadfast, 'The only person that matters,' he answers. 'Robin.'

I smile at him with a misty gaze. You're the only thing I still believe in too Finney Blake. Fuck it, we can worship each other and every inch of the world around us that isn't covered by shadow. I never want to be in the dark again. I don't have to be when I'm around you. We can make our own light and we never have to crossover. We can just stay together, you knowing me and me knowing you...and that's all that has to make any sense.

I'll stick with you Finney Blake. Pray to me. I'll be your best religion."

"I reach up and thumb Finney's face where his jaw his tensing. I'm braver being invisible. Writing my fingertips over his skin. There's no electricity between us. No magic spark under my fingertips. If I give into the temptation and add even a little more pressure, he'll slip through my fingers. I can't tell if he's cold or warm. I can't feel the smooth hollow of his cheek, or have him lean into my touch.

But I can look into those black eyes and know exactly where I belong. There's a little window of light slipping onto the crest of his irises now, unveiling flecks of gold. They look like stars. If Fin is lost, I'll stay lost with him. I'll float my soul forever in the deepest, darkest shade of his universe.

'I couldn't live without you Fin. Dang dude, I had to go and die just so I could follow you forever.'"

"'This isn't normal grieving Robin. Everyone keeps telling me it'll get easier but every minute you're not around, I'm losing my mind! I'm seeing flickers of you in the corner of my eye. I'm hearing echoes of things that aren't there. It's your stupid sarcasm and your sass and your obnoxious fucking laugh—'

'Hey...hey watch it—'

'I miss your laugh,' Finney chuckles sadly, 'you never cared that people looked at you weird for it.'

'Maybe cause I only had eyes for you dork.'

'And then I think I feel things too. Just now, I swear...' He shakes his head at himself, tracing his cheek softly. I watch his brain working, my heart thudding with desperation. You swear what? What Finney!?

'There's no way.'

There is a way Fin. There has to be! We just have to find it."

"Can dead hearts break? If so, I hope this time I'm done for good."

"I try to shake him awake, but my hands go through him. I hover my palms over him, quivering uncontrollably. I yell out to him, 'Fin! Wake up! Wake up! C'mon man!'"

"Sometimes I catch glimmers of hope in his eyes. Hope for me. For us. Those star flecks burst like supernovas only I can see. But I worry; will Fin accept any future without me in it, especially knowing now that I’m back on the table? I don’t want to get his hopes up. Seeing as how, fate’s got an annoying track record for overlooking the sheer epicness of us. What if once all our light explodes; we're just left staring into the dark mouth of a black hole?

I'm not sure I'm good for Fin anymore. Or is it the other way around? This boy is a torture to me. I'm alive when I'm around Fin. He makes me alive. My heart stopped beating a long time ago. My heart is decaying five feet deep in the earth. But Finney wakes my soul. We're so extended; it feels like he's beating one heart for the both of us.

I know I’ll have to let him go one day. I know I’ll have to make him let me go.

Till then, we can keep being hopeless idiots.

I still really wish I could give Fin what he wants though. Get him to see me for as little or as long as we have left."

"'Are you here Robin?' He barely whispers. Anyone else would've missed it. But by now I'm an expert in all sounds Finney Blake, and I can make language out of even his tiniest, most indistinguishable peeps. 'Or did I chase you away?'

I smile softly at him.

'Nothing you say is making me go away Fin.'"

"We can pretend we're in our own little world here. You don't know this, but I'm laying against the door hovering my legs in your lap because the leg room back here really does suck but also because it's an excuse to get closer to you. I'm not complaining.

Finney...I've missed half the movie because I'm watching you instead and I never want to quit being the only one who gets to see you from this angle. The way your smile shines from your soul and the casual grace of your dimples as you reach across the console and keep stealing Gwen's fries. You have mischievous grin and a fry dangling from your lips and I'm realizing you're my latest and greatest revelation.

Jesus. I think I might love you Finney Blake. I think I might maybe...actually...definitely love you."

"I'm losing my marbles trying to hold onto this illusion I've built around Fin and me. Maybe I died too young for this. I'm too small for a feeling so big, but I can't help it. I know how I feel and I feel like I can't live without him. I guess I don't have to though, do I? I've fooled myself into believing that being dead meant nothing had to change. I could sit on the sidelines like I used to for Finney's games, only this time I'd be watching him live for the both of us. It's sad to realize that everything about me since I've died and everything that’s happened since, is really, pathetically, entirely about him. I can't live my own future so I have to steal his."

"I touch him. Not really though.

Fin blinks into a soft, nonplussed expression. My heart leaps in my chest.

He looks at the space beside him, at me?

Not really though.

His eyes scan the empty seat where I should be sitting and a part of me believes he feels something. That he's searching down a path that I've dragged him down again. I feel guilty for taking him away from this moment of reprieve. Why is it so hard not to be selfish with him?"

"I touch him everywhere where he can see me in the window. I run my fingers over his forearm and love the way his veins pucker when he tenses his arm. I crawl my fingers up the sides of his neck to see if it tickles him and I get sad when it doesn't."

"'Why'd you do that? Why'd you go away?'

'What?' I ask wincing, taken aback by that. 'It's not like I meant to Kid.'

'I don't understand what's happening here!' Finny says, spinning on his heals and pacing in the other direction now. He gestures vaguely and frustratingly at thin air.

'I can't go through this again! It's just like what happened before, except now I'm losing you in pieces rather than all at once and...and...do you even know how hard that is? You were there and now you're not and why? Why are you doing this to me?'

My eyes burn with angry and uncomfortable tears. He's getting under my skin, or maybe he always was and I'm just being reminded of that.

'Hey stop it will you! You think this is easy for me either? You think I wouldn't POOF! myself into your fucking lap again if I could?'

'I'm waiting here ghost boy!' Finney shouts at me, or I guess in the general direction of where he thinks I'm standing. He's about three feet off."

"'Robin,' He utters again, 'if you heard any of that, I didn't mean it, okay? This is all so hard. All I want is for this to be real. I want to keep you so badly.'

I step closer to him, suffocating the space between us. Leaving absolutely no room for Jesus.

'Don't I know it,' I whisper back.

I like the way his bangs get tangled, and I lean in and nuzzle my temple against them. It might be coincidence, the way he closes his eyes for me. We're breathing together. It makes sense to take and give life together. I dust my nose against his cheek and then move my lips over his lips. He pacifies against me. He’s more delicate up close. I'm stroking all his sweet, soft curves and fuzzy outlines.

'This is progress though, right?' I tease him, whispering against his mouth. My voice is raspy, losing itself to the lump in my throat. I swallow it down and close my eyes too.

'Tell me you can feel this Fin.'

'Robin...' I hear Finney whisper, softer and more fragile this time, 'Is that you?'"

"'Dare me to spend the night with a ghost, Robin?'

I grin at him, my mind and heart on fire. I quirk a challenging brow at him, 'What else is new, right?'"

"'Jesus Christ,' she scorns, touching a hand to her head and clutching her hair stressfully. 'You've really gone and fallen in love with a ghost haven't you?'

I stiffen. Fin chokes on his spit. He flushes so red, he looks like a dorky beetroot. We both start rambling like idiots.

'What? Robin and I aren't...no, it's not like that—!'

Without thinking, I look sideways at him. My heart snapping in my chest as I do. 'It's not?'

Lelaine bears down on me suspiciously.

Oops. Did I just say that out loud?

I backtrack, matching Fin's panic and blurting out my own pathetic explanation, 'I mean of course it's not!'

She's not buying it, cocking her chin in my direction and telling Fin, 'He doesn't seem to know that.'

I drop my face in my hands, groaning, '¡Querido Dios! You did not just tell him that.'"

"I sigh as I spider crawl my fingers toward his hand laying on the table. I tease my index finger over his. He doesn't move. Doesn't even flinch. I look at his hand, and at him and feel unbearably empty.

'He doesn't feel it.' I whisper. 'How can this be real if he doesn't even feel it?' I sit up and look at Lelaine through misty eyes. 'Can you help us or not?'

She frowns between us, looking sceptical. 'What do you expect me to do?' She asks.

'I want to be like you.' Finney eagerly explains, 'To be able to able to see and hear ghosts and control whatever the hell is happening to me. I want Robin back. Please.'"

"'I'm not getting rid of Robin.' Finney tells her, thankfully on the same page. Not that I ever thought he wouldn't be. The sting feels a little more bearable. 'There's got to be another way.'

She looks at both of us, scowling.

'Can you honestly say you are happy living like this? Because you certainly don't look happy Finney. The harder a medium latches onto a spirit, the thinner their tether to the real world gets stretched. It's a delicate line. You need to find a way to cut that tether loose, before you end up on the wrong side of it.'

She looks at me insolently, but is speaking to Fin as she says, 'Cut him loose before it's too late.'"

"She can't force Fin to get rid of me. That's not how it's supposed to go. We're supposed to be together!

'I'm not going anywhere. You can't make me!'

'You aren't doing him any favours by sticking around here,' Lelaine shoots back. 'He can never move on if you're always around to remind him why he shouldn't.'

There's a shard pushing into my brain now. Breaking the nerve endings holding my composure at bay. Tears mist my eyes and I choke out weak and pathetic words, 'I'm not trying to hurt him. I...I love him.'

That has to be enough. That mean something! It makes this okay. Us okay. Right?

'You are hurting him Robin, even if you can't see it that way.'

'STOP IT!' Finney screams at her, drawing our attention. He gets up and slams his palms on the table fiercely. 'Stop talking to him like that! You have no clue what you're even talking about. Robin is helping me, not hurting me. I need him!'

'Trust me honey, a ghost is the last thing you'll ever need in your life.'

'But it's my life to live, isn't it? I make my own choices. Just like you. Just like my mom did! And I choose Robin, understand? So you can just leave us alone.'"

[arynneva]

wait do people read first person stories and think they're the ones in the story???

Saw people talking about not liking first person, which is fair, but their reasoning was like "I would not do that" and I don't understand that mindset.

First person stories are still about a character. A character making their own decisions. First person isn't about you???? At least I thought it wasn't. What am I missing? I've always seen first person as just a more in-depth look into a character's mind and stricter POV. Not as a reader stand-in.

[icewindandboringhorror]

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

[egophiliac]

missed the mark by (looks at calendar) uhhh. hm. but I really wanted to do something for the 5th anniversary! happy five years to these idiots 🎉

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

did it mean anything to you

[snarkspawn]

did I doodle this mostly so I had an excuse to draw this spite reaction image?

(YES HAHAHA YES!!!)

[seren-dipitous-art]

I’ve been obsessed with the Olympics for the past week, and obsessed with Dick Grayson for longer, so here’s the crossover we all deserve.

Plus, gorgeous sweaty acrobat in gymnastics poses? Only positives.

[zorangezest]

switcheroo

part two

[krysmcscience]

I have some questions about karaoke night, Alex Hirsch. Very Important Questions. Which I will happily scream at a poor hapless baby triangle who can have no answers for me, and possibly also does not have object permanence yet.

Follow-up that is I guess suggestive, but let's be real here, Bill's a fucking triangle:

Dude slipped right into his birthday suit, lmao

this is so stupid :D

Anyway, I don't care what anyone says, this brilliant individual knows what's up - Bill is absolutely way more of a monsterfucker than Ford could or ever will be, full stop.

[rooniearts]

Knuckles "The Fun Uncle" the Echidna, everyone

[vanilla-extracter]

witches !!

[nipuni]

the snake of eden 🥰

[silosbears]

i think alphonse would still experience depersonalization and dysmorphia even after getting his body back

[egophiliac]

looking at next month's schedule and between the end of 7-12 and the wishing lantern event it's like

February is officially RIDDLE MONTH, brace yourselves to be absolutely blasted into ashes everybody

[mythicalcoolkid]

You don't wish your disability was worse or more visible, you wish your disability was taken seriously. Please stop confusing the two, I guarantee you would not get the support you need JUST by being more severe or more visible. Please listen to visibly disabled people when we tell you it isn't better on our side