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jenanigans1207 · 1 year

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When you love someone for all their broken pieces, but they’re not broken anymore

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The ocean laps lazily at the shore as the moon shines high in the sky, the stars dancing across the restless surface of the water. She sits just outside of the tide's reach, knees pulled up to her chest. The wind is cooler now than it was during the day, brushing against her bare shoulders and making her shiver.

She should’ve gone home hours ago. She should be warm in bed, dreaming of anything and everything her heart desires. But she can’t bring herself to get up, can’t force herself to call an uber and to head back to the safety of her home. Even as the hours tick on and the night bleeds into the early morning, she doesn’t move. Because the truth— the one that she has spent so many years of her life avoiding and running from— is that the thing she wants the most sleeps just across the hallway from her. The thing she wants the most greets her every morning, far more awake than she ever will be. The thing she wants the most is the person she probably could never have, and she knows that.

And for years, she’s dealt with it. Pushed it aside, tamped it down, buried it deep, deep inside. For years, she’s been fine. She’s looked the other way every time she’s felt his lingering stare, shoved her hands deep in her pockets to hide her trembling fingertips. She’s fallen asleep on his shoulder and said nothing when she woke up in her own bed the next morning, smiling as she realized how carefully he’d tucked her in. But there’s only so long she can be around the person she loves before she finally admits that she loves them and it seems like she’s finally reached that limit.

She hears another set of footsteps in the sand and simply assumes that it’s some stranger wandering the beach, so she doesn’t even react. Not until the footsteps turn into a person sitting down next to her, at least. Not until she’s sure they’re not just another random person walking the shoreline in the middle of the night in a valiant yet vain attempt to escape their demons. Not until the familiar weight of his presence is settling around her, the comfort that comes with his closeness drawing her in before she even sees him.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at her. She turns her head so her cheek is pressed against her knees and just lets him observe her, let’s him glean whatever information he’s going to get out of her body language. There’s no need to say anything, no need to pretend that she’s not here because she’s trying to hide from something. He knows her too well to buy any of that and wouldn’t even give her bitter lies a moment of thought.

“Here,” He finally says, reaching out to the space between them and offering her one of his hoodies that he’d brought along.

With a thankful smile, she straightens up and takes it, slipping her arms into it gratefully. She’s worn it before and there’s nothing she loves more than the way it envelops her completely— too big but cozy at the same time. She pulls it over her head and settles it comfortably around her waist before resuming her previous position. But this time— this time she’s warm and surrounded by his scent and it almost feels like an intimate embrace. Already, she’s breaking.

“You didn’t have a jacket on when you left earlier.” He explains, even though she didn’t ask him to. He doesn’t really need to, she could’ve filled in the gaps on her own. He’s always been observant, but that’s especially true when it comes to her. While she takes care of everybody else, he takes care of her. He’s always been excellent at assuming her needs. “I figured you were probably cold.”

“I was.” She says and it feels like she’s breaking apart at the seams. His gesture is so kind, so thoughtful that she aches all the way to her very core. But more than those things, it’s so him. He probably didn’t think anything of it— grabbing one of his hoodies and coming to seek her out, knowing where she’d be even though she hadn’t told him. Because this was what he did, it was how he operated. He spent all of his time knowing and anticipating her, giving her everything before she even had a chance to ask for it. “Thank you.”

He must be able to hear it, right? How desperately she loves him. He must be able to hear it in the undertone of her voice, see it in the way she leans closer to him against her better judgement. It’s written into every fiber of her being, she can’t imagine how someone could know her and not know how in love with him she is. At this point, after this many years, it feels like a defining characteristic of hers. It feels like it must be the first thing— the only thing— people see when they look at her. Especially if they were to look at her while he was around.

His eyebrows are drawn together as he studies her face and she knows what’s coming next before he even says anything. He’s been able to read her like an open book since they first became friends ages ago. There’s nobody who knows her better, nobody who is more successful at calling her out because they know her soul. There’s nobody on earth— maybe even herself included— who knows who she really is better than he does, who can see into the darkest corners of her heart.

But on the flip side, there’s nobody who knows him better, nobody who has stayed up with him through more late nights. She’s the person he goes to when he’s sad, when he’s mad, when he’s upset. But, equally, she’s the person he goes to when he’s happy, when he’s excited, when he just needs to celebrate. She knows what he’s going to say next because she knows him. She can practically feel his words etched into her heart long before he ever gets a chance to utter them.

“Are you going to tell me about it?” He asks finally, turning his gaze away from her and out at the ocean. There’s a heaviness to his words that implies how worried he is, how long he’s been waiting to press her for answers.

She takes a moment to feel the sand between her toes, to feel the warmth against her shoulders now that the wind can no longer reach her. “What if I say no?”

“I’ll tell you that’s too damn bad.” There’s a hint of a wistful smile in his voice as he talks and her heart aches so deeply that it feels like it’s being pried apart by his fingers. “You’ve been hiding whatever this is and acting weird for over a week now, I’ve given you all the time you’re going to get. It’s time to fess up.”

And maybe it really all comes down to this moment, she thinks. Years of yearning, of pining, of denying. Maybe all of it has accumulated, pushing her to her breaking point. Maybe she has no choice but to just say it, to put it out there and to reap whatever consequences come from her confession. Maybe she just has to say it and let the rest just fall into place. He’s still not looking at her, but she knows that he’s not going to let her get away with it this time. He’s not going to let her spin some half-truth into something more believable, he’s not going to buy her sugar-coated lies and let her push this under the rug like she’s done so many times in the past.

“I’m in love with someone.” She says after a long few moments of silence. It’s the full truth, even if it’s missing an important part.

“And the problem is?” He prompts, but it’s clear that he knows he’s treading lightly, that he’s attempting to diffuse a bomb that’s been counting down for far, far too long. “He doesn’t love you back?”

“No, it’s not that.” She can feel the rest of the words sitting on the tip of her tongue, begging to finally be said. She feels the breath in her lungs, the way they ache like they’re moments from bursting completely. She feels like crying. “I think he is in love with me, too.”

She doesn’t have to look at him to feel his confusion. “That sounds like something you’d celebrate, not mope about.”

“I haven’t been moping.” She challenges feebly, but it doesn’t land. He brushes it off completely and waits expectantly for her to say anything more on the topic. “I just don’t think we’ll ever be together.”

“Oh.” He says, but there’s so much behind that single word. She hears the recognition, hears the exact moment that he realizes what she’s saying. It’s not that he didn’t know she was in love with him, she thinks, it’s just the first time he’s ever heard her say it. It’s the first time it’s been put out in the open on full display, awaiting scrutiny.

A deep breath in. An exhale. The opening of the safe she's kept locked deep in her heart for as long as she can remember having it, “You mean absolutely everything to me. You know that, don’t you? That you’re literally my favorite person.”

“Why can’t it work?” He doesn’t look at her and she’s thankful for it. She knows she’d crumble under the weight of it, turning to dust and blowing away in the breeze. She knows she would combust the moment their eyes locked, burning into ash only to rise from the ashes so that she could burn down again.

“We’ve spent so long dancing around it, denying it and hurting each other.” The answer is raw, but it’s real and she knows it hurts them both, even now. “We’ve spent so long pretending that there isn't something here, I don’t know how to start acknowledging that there is.”

She watches him, watches the way he heaves in a deep breath, the way he exhales and almost seems to collapse in on himself. She knows he feels it too— the ebb and flow of their relationship. Every time they get close, one of them pulls away. It’s a practiced art, keeping each other close but never letting them too close. They’ve been sharpening their blades for years, expertly cutting each other down every time it seemed like they could finally be together.

He reaches behind him, settling his hands into the sand and leaning his weight back into them. He looks at ease, but he also looks worn out. Like the weight of their years of tip-toeing around each other has finally settled onto his joints, weighing him down. He looks like he always knew this was coming— she had always known that it was coming eventually, too— and yet somehow, he’s unprepared.

“I—” He starts, but then he stops. He clearly doesn’t know what to say and honestly, she’s fine with that. If she could, she’d just laugh it off again, asking him to drive her home. She’d go to bed tonight, tears in her eyes, crying while she was alone so that she’d hold it together when she was with him.

But this is her one chance, the furthest she’s ever gotten. This is the first time she’s even attempted to bare her heart like this and for once, she wants to see it through. It can’t possibly hurt more than loving someone who is less than a foot away for years, right? Or maybe it can, all at once. Maybe the initial heartbreak will be worse than anything she’s ever felt in her life. But one swift stab to the heart had to be better than years and years of him whittling his way through her ribs, digging his way through her skin until he tore her heart out slowly. One fatal blow had to be a better way to die than withering away slowly, painfully.

“We’ll never be together, but we’ll never be apart.” She whispers it to the waves, but knows that he hears it anyways, “I can’t ever move on from you, can’t let someone else close to my heart. I can’t fall for anyone else because my heart is always wrapped up in you.”

“Maybe it’s not wrong of us to love each other,” He offers with uncertainty.

“I think,” She begins and the words taste bitter before she’s even spoken them. They hurt, clawing at her throat, wrapping their needle-like fingers around her heart to try and stop her from saying them. But she says them anyways because she has to, because she can’t keep letting them shred her from the inside out anymore. “We love each other for the wrong reasons.”

Finally, he looks at her again, his eyes the same dark, stormy blue as the ocean.It looks like he, too, has things hidden in his depths, emotions swelling underneath the surface. He looks like he’s terrified of hearing what she has to say and she understands that, because she’s terrified of it, too. Terrified of the way things will change, of how they will no longer be what they have been for so many years. The future is no longer steady and his place in it seems a mystery. Just the thought makes her feel sick to her core.

“I think we fell in love because we were both broken.” She speaks to her knees, now, the statement too intimate for even the ocean to hear. “We recognized that in each other— the jagged edges, the sharp corners. We cut so many other people with our flaws, but never each other. I think we fell in love because we were there for each other when nobody else was, because we met at our worst and only went up from there. It’s hard not to love someone when you know their demons and then watch them overcome them.”

“That sounds like all the reasons you are supposed to love someone.” He counters, scooting a little closer to her.

But the tears are surfacing now and she can’t breathe. She’s drowning, drowning, drowning in her emotions, in the conversation, in the comfort of his hoodie around her shoulders. She’s drowning on the words that she needs to say, the words she doesn’t want to say. She’s drowning and she wishes it were in the ocean because that had to be an easier way to go.

“No, you’re supposed to love someone despite their broken pieces and rough edges.” She replies, the tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. “You aren’t supposed to love them because of those things.”

He reaches for her all at once, pulling her across the small distance between them and tucking her under his arm, settling his chin on top of her head. She’s been here so many times before— wrapped in his embrace as he tries to comfort her. She’s familiar with the feeling of his hand as it rubs soothing circles into her back, with the way he shushes her gently, squeezing her shoulders tightly. She chokes on her shaky breath, burying her face into his shoulder. She wants this forever. She wants to always be able to be this close to him, to be able to reach for him whenever she wants to. She wants to have him hold her at times when she isn’t crying.

“So, what? We’re still those people, aren’t we?” He whispers into her hair.

She shakes her head gently against his shoulder. “You’re not.” She replies quietly. “You’re not broken anymore. You’re strong, whole. You’ve grown into someone that I am so proud of. You’ve faced your demons and you came out victorious. You are the sun, shining down on the rest of us, gracing us with your time. You are a better version of yourself and you continue to improve every day.”

“And you are what, then?” He challenges, pulling back enough to catch her eyes.

She refuses to meet his gaze. “I’m still that girl, broken to pieces and just trudging through, I’m half of a person, just here to help others around me. I’m not better, I’m not repaired or whole. I’m not sunshine or any of the things you are. You are a better version of yourself. I am the same version of myself.”

And then he’s cupping her face in his hands and gently making her meet his gaze. “You are everything to me. You are my better half. You inspire me to be better. Any change I’ve made, any growth I’ve had, has been spurred on by you. Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that.”

It seems so sweet. But, she realizes bitterly, this is the way it’s always been. Both of them building each other up, supporting and believing in each other but unable to make the last of the jump, unable to close that final distance. She grips his forearms, hands fisting in the sleeves of his own hoodie, holding onto him as a lifeline. She wants more, but she doesn’t know how to take more. And maybe they’re always destined to this— to pouring ninety percent of their hearts out to each other, to reaching out just until their fingertips touch, but never close enough to get a solid grasp on each other.

It had seemed like a big moment at first, confessing her love. But he’d always known it was there, always been able to feel her love, the same way she could always feel his. In the end, this is no different than any other moment they’ve shared before. In the end, it’s just not enough.

“Just forget it,” She murmurs, just like she has so many times in the past. She starts to pull away, ready to swipe at her eyes and gather her shoes before trudging back towards his car and riding home in a silence that’s only broken by the radio. “Let’s just go.”

But he surprises her, his grip on her face tightening just enough to hold her in place. “No.” He says, and it’s firmer than she’s heard him speak in awhile. “Not this time. I can’t— I can’t just let you go back to moping and pretending I don’t know. I— I won’t.”

“So, what?” She lets out a sad sigh, too sad to even put any challenge into her words. “What are you going to do this time?”

“This.” He breathes a moment before capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

Her eyes fall shut and his hands go gentle along her jaw, his thumb tracing patterns across her cheeks. He kisses her gently, but with purpose. He’s not handling her like she’s going to break because he knows her, he knows she doesn’t break. And even if she did break, he’d put her back together again anyways. He handles her gently because he cares about her, values her, sees her as something precious that he wants to treasure. He holds her gently so that she knows she can go if she wants to, knows that he isn’t holding her here, that it’s her choice.

She leans into it, kissing him back with just as much fervor.

When they finally separate, he smiles softly down at her, “I don’t know how we’re going to make it work,” he whispers, his lips close enough that she can feel the brush of them as he speaks. “But I know that I’m not letting you go again. I love you too much to spend any more years playing this stupid game. This is our time. Right now. It’s our time.”

#have some pining #but never ask me why I wrote this or who it is about #that is a secret I will take to my grave #original writing

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eefaevie · 3 months

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parce qu'on s'est crié des mots qui ont sali tous nos plus beaux dessins, on a hurlé des chaudières d'encre noire sur le bonheur

j'expose ma tête, mes yeux, mon cœur et mes mains

si tu reviens

something quiet, gentle, and romantic for today. I’ve been assured it’s suggestive enough for @goodomensafterdark ‘s smut war, so enjoy this soft interlude with suggestive tummy ❤️

#good omens #good omens after dark #goad #goad smut war #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #quiet gentle and romantic #kinda smut light #an amuse bouche if you will #I think normal people call that foreplay #also sorry about french lyrics but french songs have some of the most dramatic pining

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honnelander · 8 months

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go fish!

so i fell in love with Sanji just like everyone else. i've never seen the one piece anime or read the manga so i'm solely going off of the live action. i had fun writing this and plan to make this a series of some sorts where it's a fem!reader x Sanji moments of awkwardness, fluff, and mutual pining because i love reading that stuff myself. if anyone has any suggestions or requests for this series please leave a comment or send me an ask!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 1.3k

pairing: opla!sanji x reader

summary: reader and Usopp are playing a card game when Sanji finds them. teasing ensues.

prequel part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist

“Care for a refreshment, Madam?” a smooth, deep familiar voice asked to your left, breaking your concentration on the card game in front of you.

“Hm?” you looked up from the cards in your hand and saw the Going Merry’s own chef looking down at you with a crooked, charming smile as he held a chilled glass bottle of water in his hand. “Oh, hey Sanji,” you greeted quickly with your usual smile as you looked back down at your hand. “What’d you say? Go fish Usopp.”

Your opponent across the barrel from you grumbled as he took the top card off the deck sitting between you both.

“I was just asking if the lovely madam sitting here would like a nice, cold refreshment on this particularly hot day?” Sanji asked again with a hint of amusement, his crooked smile deepening as he watched you study your hand once again.

“’Lovely madam’?” Usopp repeated sarcastically, his eyebrows pulling together. “What about offering her super buff, brave, and heroic opponent an ice-cold beverage instead?”

“Nope,” Sanji corrected, popping the 'p'. “Ladies first Usopp. Always.”

Even after knowing Sanji for a couple of months now, his consistent chivalry always managed to make your heart flutter.

You laughed lightly and couldn’t help but smirk as you said with a matter-of-fact, teasing tone, “Just say you wish you were a girl, Usopp. No judgment here.” You paused for a moment before asking, “You got the five of spades?”

“Now even though I would make an extremely attractive, gorgeous woman, I am a man through and through.” A grin broke out on Usopp’s face as he glanced at his hand and triumphantly called out, “Go fish, y/n.”

“Fair enough,” you hummed as you reached for a card. “And yes Sanji, I would love a glass of cold water. Thank you.” You shot a quick look of gratitude the chef’s way as you took a card from the deck.

Sanji placed the two glasses onto your makeshift barrell-table top he was holding in his left hand and started filling up the glasses with water. “Of course. Anything for the missus.”

Missus. Ugh. It made your heart skip a beat to hear him call you that. But you knew he didn’t really mean anything by it. It was just how Sanji spoke, forever the gentleman.

“Oof. If you keep sweet talking like that Sanji, you’re going to even make me blush, just like y/n,” Usopp joked.

Your eyes widened as your eyes snapped to look at your dumbass crewmate and friend sitting across from you. “I- I am not blushing Usopp!” God, if you both were using a real table instead of a barrel right now you would’ve broken his shine with your foot. You really weren’t blushing before but Usopp’s stupid comment definitely made your cheeks heat up now. “It’s the heat,” you hissed.

“’Heat’,” he mocked with air quotes and snorted. “Right.”

“I-” before you could defend yourself, Sanji spoke up.

“Actually,” the blonde chef chimed in with a light laugh as he filled the second glass, “that’s why I came over in the first place. You were looking a little flushed y/n, so I thought you guys could use a cold drink.”

Sanji’s words caused both you and Usopp to look up from your cards simultaneously, making eye contact with each other. A mischievous grin started to form on Usopp’s face as he saw the blush deepen on your face. You quickly looked back to your hand, suddenly finding the eight of clovers card extremely interesting.

Sanji saw you looking flushed? He saw you? From across the deck? From inside the kitchen’s window? He was watching you play cards? The thought of Sanji watching you when you didn’t expect him to made your stomach erupt in butterflies, and it certainly didn’t make your stupid little crush on him go away. Just the opposite. In fact, it just fueled your delusional fantasy even more.

And it certainly didn’t help that the only person who knew about your crush on the head chef just so happened to have a big mouth and loved to tease you about it any chance he got. And that he was sitting right across from you right now, watching all of this unfold right in front of him.

“Oh? So you were watching y/n and I play cards out here?” Usopp innocently asked his blonde crewmate, but you knew better. There wasn’t an ounce of true curiosity in his tone whatsoever.

“Yeah, from the kitchen,” Sanji answered casually as he recapped the glass water bottle.

“Usopp,” you warned.

“And you said that she looked ‘flushed’?” Usopp asked, quirking a brow at the end of his question as he turned his gaze from you to Sanji.

Sanji blinked in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together for a second before looking down at his crewmate. “Yeah...” he said slowly before continuing, “Her cheeks looked a little pink so I figured-”

“Oh?” Usopp asked, his voice becoming louder. “You noticed the color of her cheeks, from that far away?”

“Usopp,” you hissed louder but it fell on deaf ears. Once your friend got on a roll, there was little anyone could do about it. Especially when it came to teasing you about your feelings for Sanji.

“Yeah,” Sanji replied to Usopp’s question with a confused smile. “What are you-”

“GO FISH!” you blurted out loudly, cutting Sanji off and having both men turn their eyes towards you.

“Huh?” Usopp blinked his eyes at you, suddenly remembering the game in front of him. “But I didn’t even ask you anything y/n. And you just drew a card, so it’s your turn to ask me.”

You let out a quiet sigh of relief at the fact that Usopp stopped grilling Sanji with all of those embarrassing questions right in front of you....even though you couldn’t help but perk up at the fact that Sanji in fact had been watching you from the kitchen, and that he was sweet enough to bring you (and Usopp) some water.

“Well, I tried,” you shrugged and lied, “but you just kept yapping so you didn’t hear me. Do you have the Queen of hearts?”

Usopp studied you for a brief moment before looking at his cards, smirking to himself. “You know y/n, it’s funny you asked about the Queen of hearts,” he said as he plucked the requested card from his hand and reached out to give it to you, “since you make heart eyes yourself whenever you look at-”

“GOOD game Usopp!” you practically yelled as you threw your cards down onto the barrel and stood up, hoping your outburst drowned out the name Usopp was about to so stupidly blurt out. You shook his free hand with both of yours as you said, “You totally win my friend.”

“What?” Sanji laughed slightly as he watched you and Usopp shake hands. The poor guy was as confused as ever. “But the game isn’t over.”

You looked Usopp dead in the eye as tightened your grip on his hand. “Oh no, it’s over. He definitely won.”

Yeah, he won alright. He won the game of making your life a living hell and embarrassing you in front of Sanji. He won the gold medal in that game.

“I sure did,” Usopp agreed triumphantly, putting his cards down.

You dropped his hand and took the glass of cold water that Sanji had so generously poured, the cold glass making you feel better already. “Thank you for this Sanji. I think I’ll go enjoy this on my hammock inside.”

You couldn’t bear to look at Sanji, feeling humiliated for no reason with your face on fire, you stepped away from the barrel sipping your water as you made your way across the deck towards the ship’s living quarters.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea y/n!” Usopp called, giddy from the high that could only come from successfully teasing a friend. “Maybe that’ll help calm down your flushed face!”

Before stepping inside, you flipped off a laughing Usopp, completely missing the brief look of disappointment in Sanji’s eyes as he watched you go.

#sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji #sanji vinsmoke #one piece #one piece live action #opla #one piece fanfiction #sanji fanfiction #fluff #opla fanfiction #i absolutely loved writing this and will write more #have this be a series of some sorts #bc who doesn't love idiots in love?#mutual pining #sanji x y/n #one piece x reader #go fish! au

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zunaki · 1 year

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Wangxian in public being disgustingly in love and the Juniors on a matchmaking mission

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musesandmonsters · 13 days

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Mabel is a character that I adore with all my heart, so it was wonderful to hear Alex discuss the nuances of her characterisation with such open fondness:

“There’s just a…uniqueness to what Kristen does. There’s a sincerity. (…) When she becomes Mabel, and she is in love with the latest guy who walked in her field of view, she really is in love, like, she’s not making fun of her own character. She believes what her own character believes, and she embodies her character.”

…

“I genuinely believe that in terms of intelligence, Dipper, Mabel, Stan and Ford are basically equal, they have different types of intelligence. In terms of moral alignment, Dipper, Mabel, Stan and Ford, for the most part, are relatively equal, though I would say that of that group, Mabel is absolutely the purest of heart. She has the least to learn, because her way of looking at life, with love and sincerity and with an unashamed fearlessness about who she is, is probably the most right, and that's why we beat her up the least, because there's not a lot that she needs to change.”

-Alex Hirsch, 2023

#gravity falls #alex hirsch #kristen schaal #mabel pines #stanley pines #dipper pines #stan pines #stanford pines #ford pines #the pines family #autistic mabel pines #< a headcanon that I have been pondering over for quite some time now

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hkthatgffan · 9 months

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I got inspired!

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luxaofhesperides · 3 months

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For ghostlights: baby Ellie + tired Danny + Duke the baby whisperer?

He has no idea how his parents did it.

Babies are exhausting. Toddlers more so. Any infants in the strange stage in-between? Doubly so.

Ellie is wonderful and sweet and cute and such a terror that Danny genuinely has no idea how his parents managed to raise not one, but two kids. For all their eccentricities and absent-mindedness, he and Jazz turned out pretty well. Ignoring the whole halfa thing because that’s more his fault than theirs even if Jazz says they shouldn’t have created the dangerous environment in the first place.

That environment is exactly why Danny refuses to let Ellie go to his house in Amity Park. His parents say they’ve disabled all the weapons and ecto-sensors since he’s had to reveal himself as Phantom, but he knows that things slip their minds and if they can’t guarantee that the house is safe, then Ellie isn’t going in there. Simple as that.

This means that they live somewhere else now. Danny had thought about it, during the hours Ellie was asleep and he was awake, exhausted and worn down to his bones, and took Jazz’s advice to accept Vlad’s offer of buying a house for him. Except he argued Vlad down to an apartment in a city of his choosing where he wouldn’t stand out too much and he would be safe, or as safe as he can be, from anyone trying to hunt down ghosts.

So here they are. Standing in the empty living room of their new apartment in Gotham.

Gotham may not be very safe as a city, but it’s good for two ghosts trying to pass as normal.

Danny sighs yet again, and looks at the space he’ll need to fill. At least Vlad is footing the bill. It’s the least he can do for creating Ellie. Frostbite was the one who was able to stabilize her, though it was almost too late and resulted in her reforming as a baby, just one and a half years old. Jazz is the one who’s choosing most of the furniture, thankfully, so it’s something that Danny doesn’t need to worry about it.

It’s a new start to their lives and it feels so empty. So overwhelming. How did his parents do it? How do any parents do it?

Ellie smacks a small palm against his cheek and babbles lightly.

“I know, Ellie,” Danny says, giving her a tired smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll have this place looking good in no time.”

He adjusts her in his arms, then heads towards the bedroom. It’s the only room that has any furniture, and all that’s there is a bed, a crib, and a bookcase. There are a few boxes on the floor, labeled ‘bedroom’ and ‘clothing’ and ‘books’. Most of it came from his bedroom in Amity Park, but he’s pretty sure he caught Jazz sneaking a few things in before they closed the boxes and loaded them up into the car.

“Can you be good for five minutes?” he asks Ellie.

She babbles again and smacks his shoulder.

“I’m taking that as an agreement. Just let me open these boxes and start unpacking before you start causing trouble, okay?”

Ellie makes another sound, but it seems agreeable so Danny carefully lays her down in the crib and gets to peeling off the tape on the boxes. The opens the one labeled ‘bedroom’ first, finding blankets and sheets folded and stacked in vacuum sealed bags. One of them is his old childhood blanket, the one he carried around everywhere that was faded with age, barely blue, with white bunnies decorating it.

He was so small when he had this. It makes him oddly emotional to unpack it and pass it on to Ellie, draping it over her so her pudgy little hands can grab at it.

This is no time to cry, though! He forces himself to focus and makes his own bed, shaking out the sheets and fluffing up the pillows. He’ll worry about washing everything later; Vlad made sure to get an apartment with an in-unit washer and dryer, which means he was actually sensible while apartment hunting for Danny.

He doesn’t mean to flop onto the bed once it’s made, but he ends up there anyways. He’s barely gotten a full six hours of uninterrupted sleep since Frostbite deemed Ellie healthy enough to leave his care. The drive up to Gotham was long and wore him down to his bones.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he does, drifting off as he wonders, distantly, when Jazz will be back from getting them dinner.

Ellie wakes him up at dawn with a loud cry. Danny jolts awake, heart pounding in his chest as he panics because Ellie isn’t here, she’s supposed to be in his arms, where is she? And then he sees the crib, where Ellie is staring at him through the bars, and he nearly collapses with relief.

“Morning, El,” he says, voice rough from sleep, as he picks her up. She just stares up at him, then leans forward and rests her head against his shoulder.

It’s quiet moments like these that make his heart melt. Ellie’s had a hard life already; he wants to give her a better one, this time around.

A quick check of the time on his nearly dead phone shows that it’s barely past six in the morning, and Jazz texted him a few times. All about furniture, saying that she didn’t want to wake them and that food is in the fridge.

It’s only the mention of food that makes him realize how ravenous he’s feeling. Danny makes a beeline for the kitchen, ignoring everything else, and pulls out the boxes of take-out Jazz left stacked in the fridge. He devours it like he’s been starving for weeks, then gives Ellie her Ecto-Jello, the only food she’s allowed to eat until Frostbite gives the okay for solid, human food.

Once he’s got her burped and cleaned up, Danny looks out of the kitchen and realizes that Jazz was very productive while he was asleep. The living room isn’t empty anymore; a dark green couch is against the wall, a low, rectangular coffee table made of dark wood in front of it. Two armchairs are on both sides of the couch, and a television has been installed, fixed into the wall.

Jazz is asleep on the couch. Her legs hang off an armrest and she’s drooling slightly.

Her phone is charging on the floor, so Danny takes it and snaps a picture of her for later teasing, then sends it to himself and writes a note to her that he’s going out with Ellie to explore the neighborhood.

He’s finally feeling more settled, energized from sleep and food.

In the warm dawn light spilling in through the windows, Danny looks down at Ellie and thinks that they’ll be just fine after all.

. . .

Four months ago, Danny had hope. He was optimistic.

Gotham was a fresh start, a new lease of life for Ellie. It is Danny’s attempt to be a single parent, sacrificing college for Ellie, and he’s planning to go out and beat the gangs black and blue if they start anymore shootouts in the next year.

He had just gotten Ellie to sleep. She was actually peacefully taking a nap.

And then a drive by shooter raced down the street, gunshots echoing down the road, and Ellie work up crying. She still hasn’t stopped, despite how Danny rocked her, soothing her as best he could.

They had been outside when Ellie fell asleep, her head on his shoulder. He had been catching up with Sam and Tucker when the car drove by, people ducking and crying out to avoid the bullets. Danny instinctively covered Ellie and made them both intangible, saving them from any stray bullets, but they ruined her nap and he needs to make them pay for that.

“Shh,” he soothes, “You’re okay. We’re both fine. It’s okay, El, it’s okay.”

Her little hands clutch at his back, twisting the fabric of his shirt, and she lets out a heartbreaking wail. He pats her back, hurrying down the street to get back to his apartment building, ignoring the looks people were giving them as they passed by.

“I know it was scary, but you’re alright. You’re always safe with me, El.”

Ellie’s cries down down a little, but they don’t stop. She whimpers, burying her face against his shoulder as he finally reaches their apartment building.

The door’s locked, which wouldn’t be a problem except Danny can’t get his keys from his pocket. He knows he has them! But his pocket refuses to relinquish them and he has to stop every few seconds to pat Ellie’s back, trying in vain to calm her down.

“We’ll be inside in a second,” he tells her, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice, “as soon as I can get these freaking keys!”

“Hey, you alright?”

Danny startles, whirling around so fast it makes Ellie go quiet, clinging to him so she doesn’t get flung into the air. There’s a guy standing before him in a gray hoodie, looking at him with clear concern. It speaks to Danny’s level of constant exhaustion that he hadn’t clocked someone sneaking up behind him.

The guy offers an awkward smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you or anything. Um, do you need me to open to door? I live here too.”

Danny wonders for a moment if this someone dangerous, someone hoping to hurt Ellie, but she starts to cry again and he steps to the side. “Please. I can’t get my keys.”

“I’m Duke, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“Danny,” he replies, watching as Duke pulls out a large key ring, jangling with the amount of keychains on it, and easily opens the door. “I’ve been here a few months, but I’m usually inside. Or walking around in the mornings with this little monster.”

“That would explain it,” Duke says as he holds the door open, letting Danny in first. “I’m usually in classes at GCU, but I decided to take a mental health day after my lab, so here I am.”

Danny walks in and waits for Duke to follow, making sure the door closes properly behind them. “Thanks. How is GCU? What do you study? I was thinking of going there myself once she gets a little older and can go to school.”

“Oh, I’m majoring in English and Human Services.” He goes to say more, but Ellie wails again and Danny winces.

“I’m so sorry. That drive by woke her up and it’s really rattled her.”

“Hey, no need to apologize. I get it, Gotham is rough to kids.”

Danny tries rocking her back and forth, but it doesn’t help. He resigns himself to another hour of her crying before she exhausts herself, and makes for the stairs, going up to the fourth floor. Duke holds open the door again, then follows after them. It makes Danny wonder if Duke is planning to do something to them, then decides he can beat Duke in a fight, so it’s fine.

Duke doesn’t try to hurt them or steal Ellie away. He opens the door to their floor and stops before they do. “I’m in here,” he says, “If you ever need me to open more doors.”

“Thanks. Um, actually, I might need help opening mine?”

Duke just smiles and makes his way back to them, following them farther into the hall until Danny stops in front of his apartment.

“If I could just get my keys,” he starts.

“Here, let me hold her for a second so you can get them,” Duke offers. Danny wants to insist that it’s fine, but Ellie cries directly into his ear and Danny, at the end of his rope, passes her over.

Like magic, Ellie settles as soon as she’s in Duke’s arms. She sniffles and hides her face away, clutching to Duke’s hoodie, but she stops crying. They both go still, surprised, and stare down at her.

“Seriously?” Danny says as he finally pulls out his keys, “Are you trying to say that I’m the problem?”

Ellie babbles lightly, and Duke turns his head to futilely hide his grin.

He grumbles as he unlocks the door and pushes it open. Ellie is acting as if she’s never been upset before a day in her life, making herself at home in Duke’s arms.

“I can’t believe this. Betrayed by my own blood.”

Duke laughs as he follows Danny into his apartment, lightly patting Ellie’s back. “It’s always the smallest, cutest ones that do this.”

“Yeah? Do you work with a lot of kids or something? Used to being betrayed by the little ones?”

“I don’t work with kids per se,” Duke says, “But my foster family is a hot mess and the youngest of them likes to keep us all on our toes.”

“Family,” Danny says in a tired, fond tone.

“Family,” Duke agrees.

With his door open and Ellie calm, Danny’s ready to just lay face down on the floor for the rest of the day and not deal with anything else. He moves to take Ellie back, holding his arms out, and Duke tries to pass her over.

The key word being tries.

Ellie tightens her grip and kicks at Danny. She refuses to be taken away from Duke, making him awkwardly try to pry her off his hoodie. Danny really hopes Duke doesn’t notice how she goes slightly intangible to make his hands fall through her arms and legs. It shouldn’t be noticeable, but it’s hard to focus on anything but a kid that clings to you, so Danny holds out for Duke’s goodwill and silence.

“As nice as it is to meet you, you need to go back to your… parent?” Danny nods when Duke looks at him in askance. “You need to go back to your parent. Okay? Come on, kid, he’s waiting for you.”

Ellie shakes her head, makes a frustrated noise, and then turns and reaches out a grabby hand towards Danny.

She still refuses to be taken from Duke when Danny tries to pick her up again, so he settles with just letting her hold two of his fingers.

“I’m so sorry about this,” he says to Duke, face burning. This is why he hasn’t been going out and being social since he moved in; Ellie is a handful even on the best days, and Danny doesn’t want someone to judge him as unfit to parent her and have her taken away.

Duke shakes his head, stepping closer. “It’s all good, man. I don’t mind. It’s not like I had any plans today. I’m already skipping my classes, might as well spend it with you two than sleep all day.”

“Are you sure? I’d be happy to invite you in, but I know Ellie can be a lot and not everyone wants to spend their day off with a baby.”

“I’m sure. Besides, I’d just be down the hall anyways. It’s no skin off my back, man.”

“Well,” Danny says, stepping to the side to give Duke full access to his open doorway, “Come on in, then.”

Ellie keeps them connected, one hand in Duke’s hoodie and the other holding Danny’s fingers, and though her cheeks are still red from how hard she had been crying, she’s calm now with her eyes shining with mischief.

As the door closes behind them, Danny realizes that this is the first time someone he’s not related to has been inside his apartment. Not even Vlad has come in, always choosing to invite Danny and Ellie out for lunch instead.

It should make him nervous, but Duke is calm and easy going and kind.

He’s making silly faces at Ellie to make her laugh, completely at ease with her in his arms, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

Gotham is a second chance at life for Ellie. It’s a sacrifice for Danny, to be alone and without friends or family around. He’d been ready to give up everything for Ellie, to focus solely on raising her, but with Duke filling his apartment with laughter, he thinks that he can make a life here too.

All he needs to do is take that first step, reach his hand out, ask Duke to stick around.

He can do this.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #i really love writing about characters struggling to be parents v suddenly and thru unconventional means #so here's danny a year out of high school living on his own for the first time w baby ellie #and duke who needed some space and independence while he's in college. bruce pays for the apartment while duke works part time for grocerie #and ellie who had been fully developed but unstable is now a halfa baby who remembers stuff but is also. yknow. a baby.#she absolutely latched onto duke to force danny to have a life outside of her. but also she can sense that hes kind and calm #which danny needs bc he is Stressed (tm)#this leads to duke bringing over food for them and looking after ellie while danny goes shopping or naps #both of them ignoring how duke has to leave suddenly for Hero Related Reasons and how danny and ellie have Powers #it's a v delicate balance they keep for the sake of keeping ellie safe #yeah they're gonna co-parent and realize they're basically dating after MONTHS of pining #the bats have bets on who gives bruce a grandkid first and literally no one bet on duke but here he is lol :)#thanks for the prompt!!

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