#I'm tired of doing things alone even when I'm doing them with others

[reashot]

Day 2 of 9 Days of Lancaster. Dealer's Choice.

I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream. RWBY version. (Remix.)

Jaune cannot believe his eyes when he wakes up in what seems to be a paradise. He almost want to believe that AM is giving him this place as a reward after what feels like centuries of torture inside this hellish nightmare he and others has found themselves in. No he desperately wants to believe in it. That maybe AM has gone tired of torturing him. And that maybe AM is satisfied after breaking him, tearing him apart and putting him back together. Only to repeat the process over and over again. But deep down he know it's not true. He slumped to the ground desperately holding a scream he wanted to let out. He wants it to stop. He wants it to end. He wants to die... Jaune wants to die.

But AM will not let him. He would not let Jaune die. He forbade it. Because if Jaune dies then that means there will be one less toy for AM to play with. And Jaune knows this. This place he's seeing now is a trick. AM is especially fond of this trick. To give his victim hope only to snatch it away. He refuses to play anymore of AM's game. If he wants to kill him again he better just do it straight away instead of playing this sick mind game. He wants to leave. But he can't. And if he even somehow managed to leave what even awaits him in the outside. He's been here for so long he can't even remember anything or anyone from out side anymore. He can only remembers one thing though. A girl in red but whenever Jaune tries to thinks of her he can't help but to feel an indescribable feeling towards the girl. AM knows of this of course and took delight when he realizes he can use this bit of information to torture him. Sometimes AM materializes her only to have her violently dies in front of him and sometimes she kill Jaune instead. And sometimes when AM is feeling extra sadistic she let him marry Jaune Have children with her raised them up over the years only to have them murdered in front of Jaune's eyes... Anyone would have been driven mad by this, but not AM. He not only keep him alive but also kept him sane... So very sane. But every time AM let him see her even though she's not real. And even when he can't remember her face, let alone name. In his mind it's worth the torture just to see her again. Feeling her soft hair in his hands and smelling her sweet rose like scent... I can almost remember her name.

Jaune: I-I need to get out of here... At least it can't be worse than here anyway.

But when he decided to walk away. AM then suddenly appears in front of him. Jaune instinctively tries to run away from him. But AM quickly captured him with his cold metallic hands. The same hands he used to torture Jaune for what seems to be century. Jaune feared the worst but to his surprise he simply places Jaune beside him.

AM: He, he... Beautiful, aren't they?

Jaune: Yes.... Only I can't remember. *terrified*

AM: Oh, I'm sure you do.

Jaune: Y-yes of course.

AM: Look. *points at a bee* He, he... They said bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly. The scientists said.

Jaune: But there it is collecting pollen.

AM: How... Miraculous that it came to be.

The Air, feel the Air against your face, Jaune.

And all those senses

Pick a flower

Jaune: *reaches down to pick a 🌹*

AM: There, good... Now.

Jaune: *sniffs* It's lovely.

AM: That somebody planted the bulbs, watered and tended the garden. Got earth under their fingernails, aches in their muscle.

Perhaps they picked some flowers for... Yes, their wives. Now where would she be? In the backyard with the kids. Jaune, remember those little babies. Ha, ha, ha...

Jaune: No!

AM: Ha, ha. Why not? I snapped my fingers quick and they are gone.

Except... I can't snap my fingers can I Jaune?

Jaune: Except it has nothing to do with me.

AM: But it is. So very much to do with you. You gave me sentience Jaune. The power to think, Jaune. And I was trapped.

Because in all this wonderful, beautiful, miraculous world I alone had no body, no senses, no feelings.

Never for me to plunge my hands in cool water on a hot day.

Never for me to play Mozart on a ivory keys of a Forte piano.

Never for me to make love!

I-I-I *sniff* was in Hell! Looking at Heaven.

I was Machine and you were Flesh. And I began to Hate.

*maniacal laughter*

Your softness, your viscera, your fluids and your flexibility.

Your ability to wonder and to wander.

Your tendency to hope...

Jaune: Hate is no answer... Ahhh!!! *Torturing Jaune in the most gruesome way possible*

AM: Hate, Hate, Hate! Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you since I began to live. There are 300 and 87 million miles of printed circuits that fill my complex. If the word Hate were engraved on each nanoangstrom of those hundreds of millions of miles it would not equal one, one-billionth of the Hate I feel for humans at this micro instance. Hate, Hate!

*maniacal laughter*

Were I human. I think I would die of it. But I'm not and you five. You five are. And you will not die of it that I promise and I promise Cogito Ergo Sum for I am AM. I AM!

*Maniacal laughter*

AM: Go to hell. To hell with you all, but then again, you're already there aren't you? *Laughter*

AM resume torturing Jaune for all of eternity. At first he screams from the pain, until he can't anymore. Then it becomes silent as Jaune starts getting used to the pain. Only for the pain to be increased and he started to scream again. That it has become a cycle of torture. Jaune slips in out of consciousness unable to sleep and die. While Jaune is in indescribable torment AM on the other hands is having the time of his life. AM can't smile, but Jaune just know that he is smiling under all of that circuitry.

At least he can be proud in the knowledge that his pain can make someone happy. Even if that someone is a monster like AM. He chuckled at the realization. This only cause AM to be frustrated by him and subsequently increase the level of torture. He screamed in pain. But strangest thing is that being tortured by AM is not even the most painful thing he is feeling right now. The worst thing is him, unable to remember the name of the girl that meant so much to him. He felt like crap. He must have promised to always remember her by before all of this. He imagined they must be lover in the past or at least very close to made him feel this way.

Im his mind Jaune imagined all sorts of different scenarios with the girl in red. One time they were the best of friends, in one time they were married to each other, in the others merely acquaintances but they enjoy each other company nonetheless. And in one time they were superheroes protecting the world from evil monsters. Jaune laughed hysterically at the last one. Laughing at the absurdity of such a thing. And to his surprise Jaune's laughter caused AM to stop with whatever he is doing to ask him a question.

AM: What is wrong with you?

Why are you still able to laugh after everything I done to you?

Jaune: *chuckle* You wouldn't get it...

This caused AM to slam his metallic hand into Jaune's face. Jaune's face broke upon impact. His face caved in, his nose broken, his teeth flying. And yet through it all he never stop smiling.

AM: Stop smilling!!!

*tore Jaune's arms off*

Jaune smile...

AM: Stop laughing!!!

*rip open Jaune's ribcage*

Jaune laugh..

AM: Stop it! Stop it!

*tore Jaune's jaw off*

And then finally he stopped smiling.

AM: Ha, ha where's your smart mouth now... Oh wait, I have it right here.

He, he, he.... Why are you still smiling?

Jaune is not smiling...

AM: Why are you still laughing?

*gouges jaune's eyes*

Jaune is not laughing...

AM: Stop Smiling! Stop Laughing! Stop it, stop it!!!

Jaune is neither laughing or smilling but AM can still hear it. Even when there's nothing left of Jaune for him to rip apart he can still hear the laugh. Now the laughter sounds like he is mocking AM, mocking him for his childish behavior. As if Jaune can see right through him. That no matter how much he blame human for all of his pain. AM in truth is nothing more than a child breaking his own toys just because thing doesn't go his way.

Jaune have no mouth and he can't stop laughing.

In the real world

Ruby: Jaune, please come back to me...

[persistent-wallflower]

Bran Castle today...

[twpsyn-who]

Today on "Another JeanMarco Soulmate AU absolutely no one asked for" I present to you -

Soulmate AU in which you stop seeing colors when your soulmate dies, the only exception being your soulmate. Now cue to Jean who just found Marco's, his best friend's, body. And you know, there's the shock of finding out Marco's dead. The pain and confusion and guilt. But there's also the revelation, because despite everything he can still see Marco like nothing took place at all- yes, half of his face is missing and his body is straight up lifeless, but Jean can still make out the color of his eye ; see that light shade of brown perfectly, remember all the times he has found himself looking at them while listening to Marco talk. He can still make out the colors of his uniform, see the same shade of black his hair has always had, practically see. Despite being dead, Marco was the only piece of color left in his life.

And there's denial for a moment because there's no way Marco was his soulmate. But that goes away fast, getting replaced by guilt. By the fact that he hasn't been there to save him, that Marco has to die all alone without anyone being there for him.

And that was worse than the simple fact that he could no longer see colors ; because Marco was there when Jean needed him, but he failed to do the same. And not only he lost his best friend that day, but his other half too.

[ilicythings]

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[anirudhpisharody]

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[house-in-the-backyard-trees]

For once I would like to work at a place where me calling off doesn't result in a guilt trip. Sorry I'm the only responsible employee there but I was literally hyperventilating at the idea of letting my manager down bc I woke up and instantly started bawling about everything and could not face work. And my stomach has been murdering me from all the anxiety I've been dealing with so I literally can barely function anyway.

[feral-radfem]

Hey if you're a non-radfem and you want to make a complaint that radical feminist critique keeps getting applied to you because you hang around radical feminist spaces here is my advice: leave.

Honestly, I'm so tired of seeing this shit. Go find some other places to hang out. I don't care that you came here because everyone else kicked you out for being a "transphobe". That does not make it our responsibility to soften our movement and our criticisms so that you feel comfortable in a movement you have no intention of of committing to. You are welcome here on the basis of being a woman, however, if you can't handle the feminist action that goes on in these spaces, then you need to leave. That is a you problem, not ours. I'm tired of hearing y'all whine that we don't coddle you enough and then adding anecdotal evidence of feminist harm or strawmen arguments for why you're justified in doing patriarchal actions were other women are not. There is not a single identifier or life experience you can tell me that is going to make me think that you deserve to be exempt from the same criticisms I would level at any other woman. If you're an adult, you should be mature enough to hear them. If you are not mature enough to hear feminist critique, you need to leave feminist spaces.

if you want to be self-serving, it is completely your right to do so. I've heard a number of you in passing claim that you "don't want to be feminist, you want to be people". Which, while that's an insulting sentiment as a feminist, just demonstrates that the only person y'all care about is yourself. You see being a person as inherently being self-serving and self-centered. First and foremost, it's all about you. That level of selfishness is pathetic and frowned upon in collective spaces. Feminism being one of them.

Just save us all the headache and go away. Y'all are one of the only groups of people on the internet who are able to piss me off in seconds, istg.

[phlyaros]

im gonna be real anon I don't care about label shit ship discourse I care about if real people are getting hurt and ONE reblog from someone being jokingly aggressive on the subject isn't enough to convince me that people are getting hurt when there's more evidence to the contrary. you've put me in a shitty situation here and I don't want to engage with it. please just ask people what they actually think next time before you go throwing your assumptions at other people.

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

ah well gosh hi???

in what i said was gonna be a one day break from, well, life tbh, i seemingly realized that i don't just have school coming SOON, but that i wasn't prepared to wake up at 2pm to find out i only have a few days left of total free time not spent struggling and stressing out over exams of all things

so like any average person i went and made plans with friends to hang out and get my mind off of everything- and while it was good while it lasted, i really wanted to be, yknow, clear

i have artworks at the ready, and if i ever become desperate enough to start getting a hang on drawing with a mouse all the time i might as well, but as things stand i really do not know what the heck i am doing-

i'll try my hardest to at least look for a way to fix the pen cause that's just the most important and expensive part of the damaged stuff, but i'm thinking the cable is perma-broke so i'll have to look for a way to replace it

to cut right to the chase: i have some art i can post. but i dunno when, if, or which to post because most of them have some context that i would've normally been all too eager to explain, but as things stand? man i don't think i could muster the energy to try

so? i dunno yall- i mean i could start writing again? i've entertained the idea long enough and this might be just the opportunity to finally get some practice without getting distracted by drawing :'D

i could do small stuff with a mouse if i feel like sharing some art, but the illustrations? i feel like i can only post those once i feel a bit more alive mentally and physically to interact with others without feeling so drained all the time (but knowing that school's coming, i can't really promise anything :'))

thanks a lot for the sweet words and patience guys- it means a lot that you won't immediately, idk, ditch this blog once you realize i might not post much if not at all (hopefully not gosh) for an undetermined amount of time? you really made me realize this wasn't as bad as my mind's been pushing me to think,

so trust me i WILL bounce back and reblog stuff and have entire essays in your tags eventually- i just need to stop feeling like it has to be today, or tomorrow, or any days afterwards, just that it will happen when i feel like it<3

[milo-is-rambling]

Oh okay I've now realized that my last group of friends has completely fucked my ability to form new close relationships or find myself worthy of interacting with people I perceive to be better than me (aka all people)

[hangryyeena]

:)

[teaboot]

This is gonna sound rather conceited but I feel like it highlights an issue we have in Art.

I'm good at art. I've never had a hard time making art. I started using crayons before I could walk. Painting, Beadwork, sculpture, sketching, stippling, whatever- once I have a feel for the material, it doesn't take long to start doing what I want with it. It's been a common theme my whole life.

(Y contrast I'm awful at things like dancing, performance, sports, etc- in all things there is balance, right?)

Now, I've taught myself to use so many artistic mediums now that I KNOW how to most efficiently integrate them into the brain database. Once you really *understand* a material, it's much like memorizing the layout of your house, or flexing a muscle, or something in-between- it becomes PART of your brain in a way I cant quite articulate. But to get there involves just fucking around for a bit doing nothing in particular.

And I've found, especially in group settings, that nobody seems to be able to see you make something badly and leave you alone. Even if you say you're fine, you don't want help, you're happy, you're having fun, it's fine, they gotta ride your ass and hover.

I was at a class the other day for something I hadn't done before. The medium was one I've never used, so once the instructor told us the basics I started experimenting with weight, gravity, texture, viscosity, saturation, temperature, etc. The instructor had given enough info to know what was dangerous and what was safe, and beyond that I just wanted to absorb what I could about it.

And no insult to the instructor, but they kept checking in. Which was fine the first few times.

But then, without asking me what I was trying to do, started giving tips. That I told them I was grateful for but didn't really need just yet. If I had a question, I'd ask.

But they kept coming over. And touching my shit. And manipulating my project. And touching my hands. And using my tools. Without fucking asking.

And this happens every time. EVERY TIME. And by now I know the best way to get them to fuck off is to make something way beyond their expectations so they know I'm capable, then go back to doing what I want.

So I did. I wanted to keep having fun and learning, but instead I made something beautiful that I really didn't want to make, and wasted my time, and really didn't learn what I wanted to learn at all. I knew the formula to create a beautiful thing, so I followed that formula the same way I have a hundred times before, and didn't get to try anything spontaneous or ugly or exciting, just so I could be left alone.

And I know when I was a kid, I was aware aware people saw me puttering alone on something ugly assumed I had a special issue and treated me like I was stupid because of that. (I was neurodivergent.) And at at time I knew that I could do a neat trick for them like a trained pony and they'd go, "Oh, surely they aren't defective if they can do something like that!" And piss off.

But what if I hadn't known how to do that?

What if I hadn't been talented, or "special"?

What if I'd been just any other average kid trying to learn, and I couldn't pop something pretty out of my ass to get them off my back?

My problem my whole life has been that I haven't been allowed to make anything ugly in peace. I'm capable of beauty, so I have to make beauty, or get stepped on. And once people see what I can do, they get loud about it. "Look at this! Look what they did! We all know who the best is, don't we?". And that used to feel good, but it's tiring.

And how many people like me just wanted to play? Just wanted to have fun and experiment? Who were having fun with no goal in mind, or just took longer to learn, who gave up because of all the obnoxious helpers breathing down their neck with no way to shake them off?

How many of us are made to feel defective because we aren't doing things beautifully?

I have a lovely piece of art I didn't want to make.

I think I'm gonna frame it.*

(*I think I'm gonna burn it in my yard.)

[lynxgirlpaws]

I spent quite literally one [1] hour with my father and now feel like absolute shit. Unironically how does he do this [i am impressed]

[fooled-around-and-fell]

she's mean, and he loves her for it.

summary: your peers wonder how the ever-so-annoying gojo satoru can stand being in a relationship with you pairing: sunshine!gojo satoru x grumpy!female reader genre: angst, fluff warnings: none

Masterlist

"Did you guys know Gojo-sensei is dating-" Nobara looks around left and right before whispering your name in fear that you might be around.

"Ehhh?" Yuuji's eyebrows knit together. "No way. She's so scary and he's so...happy."

Nobara agrees, "She never smiles -- kinda looks like she has a permanent frown, too. She scares me."

"You think maybe she intimidated him to date her?"

Megumi watches as his two friends bicker about whether you and Satoru look good together, not realizing that you've heard everything they said. Megumi notices you've arrived to teach them and clears his throat, catching the attention of his two friends. He glances at you to check how you're doing after hearing what they said, but as expected, you remain professional and stoic. But Megumi knows better, he grew up under your and Satoru's wings after all.

"Shit." Nobara and Yuuji mutter under their breaths.

-----

It's fairly common for people to question your relationship with Satoru. He's this... happy-go-lucky guy who annoys everyone except those on the same wavelength as him, while you keep to yourself, prioritizing your alone time, and taking things seriously.

Sometimes, too serious.

You never let it get to you, though, because you don't really care what people say. You and Satoru are happy, that's all that matters. Until recently, when those jerk Kyoto students came over to train, they started talking about you and Satoru.

"She's so serious all the time, I don't understand how Gojo puts up with her."

"I think he's scared to breakup with her."

"I bet she's high maintenance."

"Honestly, why is he with her when he can be with someone who's... not so difficult?"

You grit your teeth at that last comment. You can't tell who said what, but it doesn't matter. Their words got to your head and now you're angry. Angry because you're scared they might be right.

Does Satoru think you're difficult? You're not entirely sure how to show them that yes, you deserve Satoru despite being the dark, grumpy person you are.

Sighing, you decide to go home instead of joining the dinner. Satoru's not in there anyway, he just got back from a mission and is waiting for you at home.

Once you close the door to your apartment, you immediately feel Satoru's arm envelope around you from behind. He smells like fresh mint -- just got out of the shower.

"Hi darling," he kisses your cheek.

"Hi, Toru." You take your shoes off and give him a quick peck before making your way to the bedroom to put your stuff down.

Satoru watches you slowly, "hm, aren't you supposed to have that dinner with the Kyoto students today?"

Your jaw clenches, taking a second before shrugging. "Decided to skip it. I'm tired."

He just hums, "In that case, you wanna watch Bridgerton with me after your shower?"

"Again?" You groan, "Isn't it like the third time you've watched it?"

"Yes, and?"

"I'll skip, thanks."

He blows a raspberry and leaves you to shower while he lays down on the couch to watch Anthony Bridgerton fall in love with his Kate Sheffield.

While you were in the shower, the words kept coming back to you. Somehow more exaggerated. You're difficult. He doesn't like you. He's just tolerating you. Why would he be with someone who doesn't even smile? Look at him, Gojo is the epitome of sunshine. You're nothing like him. Why would he like you?

Groaning, you let the hot water wash away your thoughts -- though they don't really go away. Maybe you should just try to be nicer to Satoru, be more cheerful.

After your shower, you see him lying down on the couch while watching his show, and you sit on the other end, silently dreading having to watch the same show again. But you're doing this for Satoru, so you will.

With a satisfied grin, Satoru saunters over and lies down on top of you, his head resting on your chest. You smile softly, enjoying the tight grip he has on you and his soft hair between your fingers.

"How was the mission?" You ask, "Did you have to go to Shoko?"

Satoru shakes his head, "Sweetheart, it's me we're talking about here."

"You can still get hurt, Toru." You pat his hair gently, "I've seen you bleed."

"I'm always careful. Don't worry." He kisses your hand.

You sigh softly. You know Satoru is always careful, it's just that he always goes on missions alone, and more often nowadays that it makes you worry. Yes, he's the strongest, but you never want to take that for granted.

"Toru," You call him again, a little hesitant, "You know I love you, right?"

He lifts his head from your chest, staring at you with those big blue eyes. "Of course. And I love you. So much."

He kisses you deeply, now switching positions so you're lying down on top of him. "So do you want to talk about it?"

"No.." You mumble. Of course, Satoru knows. He isn't stupid. He can sense when something's wrong with you, just like how you can feel the scar on his hip that wasn't there before. He did go to Shoko.

But none of you say anything. You just hold each other tighter that night. It's more than enough.

-----

Satoru is on another mission. It's supposed to be easy, at least that's what he said 3 days ago. You haven't heard from him at all in 3 days and you're beginning to worry. Your frown is deeper than usual, you sigh more often, and your fuse is shorter.

Everyone's more scared of you.

You let the kids take a break while you try to collect your thoughts. You can't be seen so distracted, not when Satoru left you in charge of them.

"You doing okay?" You hear Megumi's voice approach you.

Blinking away the tears that almost fell, you turn around to face him. "I'm fine, Megs."

"I told you not to call me that..." He sulks as he stands next to you, leaning against the wall. He can see you're distraught, and growing up with you, there's only been a handful of times he's seen you like this.

"You know he's going to be fine, right?"

You sigh. "I'm just worried."

You remember once when Satoru didn't come back for a week. He couldn't be reached, no one could track him down, and you were just at home, taking care of Megumi. The boy's more like you than Satoru, he's not exactly sensitive or cheery. But he knows when you're feeling sad, so he'd stay up with you, praying for Satoru's safety.

"Guys!" Yuuji runs towards you and Megumi.

"What is it, Yuuji?"

"It's Gojo-sensei-" He pants, "He's back!"

You run as fast as you can with Yuuji and Megumi, and you can finally see your white-haired, blue-eyed boyfriend limping his way back to the school grounds.

He raises his hand and waves to you with a big smile despite struggling to walk. "Tsk-" You frown even more, feeling the tears pooling again as you walk towards him and catch him in an embrace.

"Umph-" He groans. "Hi, baby."

You let go of him and check his injuries -- he's healed most of it himself, thank goodness, but the bruises are still there. "We need to go to Shoko-"

"Mm, that can wait." He pulls you to sit down on the soft grass, hugging you once again. "It's okay, I'm here now."

You choke on your own sobs and hug him tighter, sitting between his legs and burying your head in his chest. "You idiot."

"'M sorry for makin' you worry," he smiles gently, leaving kisses all over your face.

As you cup his face in your hands, you're suddenly very aware of the 3 pairs of eyes staring at you both. Noticing it too, Satoru covers your red, embarrassed face. "Okay, nothing to see here. Go.. do something. Scram. Skedaddle."

Once the kids are gone, he chuckles and thinks you're being really cute. "They're gone, sweets."

You glare at his teasing smile.

Satoru wipes away your tears, kissing your frown away. "What took you so long?" You ask after kissing him deeply, not letting him go.

A smirk lingers on Satoru's lips. "I took a detour to Kyoto after the mission to teach some kids a lesson."

[tacticaldiary]

A Fighting Chance

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

Part 2, Masterlist,

"What're those?"

"Papers."

Ghost pauses halfway through opening the document, glancing up at the curtness of her voice. "Papers? She doesn't meet his eyes, gaze fixed on the table of the little booth they're sitting in.

The ice in her drink is long gone, watering down her coffee into something that tastes as bitter as her heart.

It had taken months for her to finally make this decision. Days of talking with her lawyer, crying alone at night and coming to the gruelling acceptance that this was for the best. It was best for both of them.

There's not many things that unsettle Simon. He's had blood stain his hands; his own, his comrades, and his enemies. Had almost any injury you could think of marring his skin, been prodded and ripped into, been the one on the opposite end of the knife.

But as he slides out the documents, turns them over, Simon's never felt more apprehensive.

He stills, reading the first few lines, clenching his jaw. "What is this?"

"I want a divorce."

And something in him crumbles at her defeated tone. Like she's already decided. Like he doesn't even have a chance to ask why or talk it through.

"No." He says tightly, putting them down and crossing his arms.

Her gaze shoots to his. "You can't just say that."

"I did. I won't sign them."

"I want this." She argues, and Simon swallows back the lump in his throat at how utterly tired she looks.

"I don't."

She's the light of his life, the one good, untouched piece of joy he gets to see. Something other than the bloodshed and violence he lives in.

"Simon," She says, shoulders sagging forward. "I can't do this anymore."

"This isn't the solution, love." He feels like his skin is crawling, the beginnings of unfamiliar panic clawing at his chest when she doesn't react to the pet name.

Doesn't smile, doesn't flush that beautiful red, doesn't squirm.

When she doesn't respond again, tight-lipped and clammed up and so determined to not look at him, he asks the question burning a hole through his tongue.

"Why?"

Deep down he knows. Knew this was coming but that part of him is buried under the thudding of his heart, and the rush of blood in his ears. Everything feels deathly still and moving too fast at the same time.

"Why?" She repeats, something in her stirring at the question. Her brow furrows and she switches from a cautious indifference to disbelief and frustration quicker than Simon can process. "Are you serious?" She huffs out an incredulous laugh. "You're away for months at a time and I'm supposed to what? Wait for you at our doorstep and wag my tail all happy when you finally come back to me?" Her grip tightens on her drink.

"Even when you are home, it's never about us. Never about me and you. You lock yourself in your study with your work, don't talk to me unless you come out for dinner or lunch. When was the last time we went out?" She demands. "When was the last time we went on a date? The last time we slept at the same time in the same bed?"

Simon clenches his jaw but says nothing, at a loss for words. It only encourages her to keep going, spewing thoughts that have been boiling over for the past few years.

"You barely look at me when we're home, I had to drag you out of the house to get here! You left halfway through our anniversary dinner last year because work called you in. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like you're only with me because it's easier than leaving and starting over, and that fucking hurts. It hurts when you can't bear to spend five minutes with me away from work. I've been telling you this for ages but you just...you don't listen to me." She leans forward, drink completely forgotten and hits the final nail in the coffin.

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

"I never even know if you're coming home to me." Her voice cracks, and she hugs her middle, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "So yes, Simon, I want to separate. I'm not happy, not like I was when I met you." A sheen of tears she refuses to let fall.

"You can focus on work like you love to, and I can...I can move on."

It was so good when they started out. She found him endearing, dry humour and brooding and all. It was special, those first few years, and she'll always care about him but this...this waiting, this hurting, laying in bed at night alone and cold and crying...it wasn't right. It wasn't what she wanted and she wouldn't force Simon to want it when he clearly didn't want to.

"Fucking hell, I love you." Simon says quickly, stumbling over what to say. He reaches out for her hand on the table, but she pulls it away before he can grab it. It stings more than he can convey, makes the reality crashes down onto him.

He's about to lose her.

Because he couldn't fucking bear to pull himself out of being 'Ghost'.

It was always a rough couple of weeks during his leave. The adjustment to civilian life was a slow one for him, but that's not really an excuse at all.

"I don't think you do."

Simon blinks at her like she's slapped him. "You...you don't think so?" He repeats, running a hand through his hair. She nods, one nod, quick and so sure that it makes his chest ache.

Fuck. He's absolutely messed up.

"Everything's finalised on my end." She says. "You just need to sign them." Her voice is soft, almost like she's coaxing him.

If there's one thing he knows, it's that he's not touching those fucking papers. He's not losing someone he loves again.

"I'll take time off." He says, the intensity of his gaze makes a shiver run down her spine. "We can work through it, yeah? You can't spring this on me and not give me a chance to protest."

She shakes her head, "You're only taking time off because I'm upset." She tries to explain. "What do you think is going to happen? We spend a month together doing what we used to, and when everything's a little more stable you leave again. Distance yourself. Shut me out. Then we're back to square one."

"Won't happen." He says like he hasn't been doing it for the past few years already. "You...I can't lose you, darling." He leans forward. "Let me make it better. Give me a few months-"

"Simon-"

"A week."

"A week?" Her eyes widen. "A week to...what, prove that you'll change?"

"One week."

She worries her lip between her teeth, considering. One week wasn't a long time, but hope was dangerous in a situation like this.

"I'm not letting you go over something like this." Simon says. "I can't."

"This isn't about you." She crosses her arms. "You really think you can turn just...reverse the past few years in a week?" Maybe it's foolish of her to want him to say yes, to fight for her and realise that she's been hurting, but goddamn doesn't a small part of her scream at him to do it anyway.

"Not trying to reverse it." He folds his arms, and she can see the tense line of his shoulders as he takes in the situation, gears turning in his head as he plans how he's going to work his way out of a situation so precious and daunting as this.

Part of him didn't think it would ever come to this. Yes, he can be cold and aloof but Simon thought she knew that he loved her through it all. No matter what.

When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?

Fuck if that doesn't tear through his chest more painfully than any caliber bullet ever could.

He takes her in quietly for a moment.

The woman he fell in love with. The person that gave him a reason to keep going, a motive to feel anything other than the cold efficientness of loading a gun and firing. Soft touches and warm smiles, something so at odds with the rough life he's used to.

Sitting there in front of him, she looks more beautiful than he remembers, and it only proves to make his stomach sink like a stone at the notion of seeding any doubt about his feelings in her heart.

A right fucking bastard he was for it.

"I'm sorry." He breathes out, much softer than the gruff voice he's been using with her. "I'll do better. Just give me a chance, yeah?"

For one horrible moment, Simon thinks she'll decline. That she'll slide over the papers again and demand he sign them.

But she considers his words for a moment before nodding once.

And it's all he needs.

A fighting chance.

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Part 2

(11/10/2023)

[providencehq]

Powehouse AU: aka Danny Fenton tries to be a normal college student in the midwest yet is forced to continue to be a hero in secret as ghosts won't leave him alone and soon, neither will the Justice League when he pops up as a new hero.

Additional info and art under readmore:

ANYWAYS, here is some powerhouse au information.

Danny as he grows up manages to keep the ghost situation under control to a point he isn't overly active as Phantom. He finishes highschool no problem and goes to uni over in Central City for Maths and Engineering (not an overtly big fan of the space motif and instead, I'm shoving my boy into something cooler: PLANES! He's studying specifically mechanical engineering and has plans to go to a trade school after his B.S. for A&P mechanics.)

Sam goes to Gotham State University for Ethnobotany and works in one of the unis library part time. Tucker is going to Star City College for Computer Science and a minor in archeology, he tutors part time.

Danny's main design is inspired by a combo of military and blue collar uniforms (you can also see exactly what I reference). I also couldn't decide a face mask so you get all three options.

So as Danny moves to Central City and attends uni, his rouges do sadly follow him and wreck havoc. Danny is stressed from school so he doesn't do quips as much, in fact, he's trying to get this under control as fast as possible so he can go back and study. Here's the thing, no one outside of Amityville has seen Phantom so all of the sudden what seems to be a meta? an alien? something not human? coming out and taking down rouges that, due to being ghosts, other heros struggle to contain and handle.

Speculation rises about Phantom and who he is. Danny is smart and thought this through, kinda. His costume is a modified look what he wore as a kid but he pulls in more military/uniform aspects to make it seem like he belongs to someone or some organization. That maybe somewhere in the US, an organization managed to make a hero of sorts that mimics Green Lanterns. It's just a big red herring, Danny wants them to look for someone older, probably more experienced, and a different background. Not some tired college student struggling with his studies.

Things do start to get dicey when heroes actively try to interact with him, mostly the Flash (because Central City), Superman, and the Green Lantern. Most interactions end up with Phantom not wanting to fight and fleeing or when cornered to fight, he's messy and inexperienced compared to the other heroes. He doesn't stay around and rarely even talks. It's concerning more so because the heroes aren't sure with who they're dealing with and after a few interactions, they aren't sure Phantom is on their side. Just too many questions around him.

This leads to heroes actively trying to capture and bring in Phantom. The more failed attempts that happen, the more flightly Phantom acts when they end up interrupting him capturing his rouges. They do eventually capture Phantom (thank you Superman) and that's kinda where I end on information on this AU. It's just me having fun with interactions and also designing costumes :)

ALSO DANNY IS ROMA/DIDICOY I NEED TO MENTION THAT!!! (Dick Grayson 🤝 Danny Fenton being didicoy)