#every fucking thing i say is brushed aside and im told to focus on my anxiety

[frankpunisher]

.

[hopelikethemoon]

Stressful Times (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Stressful imes Rating: PG Length: 1300 Warnings: Angst  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in May 1997. Short cause #selfcare. Summary: Reader voices her frustrations.

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You peered over the top of the refrigerator door, spotting Javier looming in the threshold of the kitchen. ��What are you doing up?” He questioned, one brow arching upwards as he glared at you.

“What are you doing home early?” You countered, tucking the jar of pickles under your arm as you grabbed the mayonnaise as nudged the door shut with your hip, before sitting both jars down on the counter. 

“You’re supposed to be laying down.” He insisted, though he hadn’t brushed from his spot as he watched you prepping the hard boiled eggs you had made for egg salad. 

“And you,” You started, glancing at the time on the microwave. “Usually have office hours right now.” You opened the bag of white bread, throwing two slices down on a plate. 

“Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll make your sandwich?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Why don’t you just stand there and look pretty and I’ll continue making my own sandwich?” 

Javier had been driving you crazy with how concerned he was. It felt like you couldn’t do anything without him deciding it was too strenuous. And it was driving you crazy. 

As much as you loved the man, you actually looked forward to him being gone at work so you could sit outside and read a book or recline on the sofa and watch soaps. 

Laying in bed was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“You know, one of the books I read suggested that eggs could be dangerous.” Javier offered, folding his arms across his chest. 

“The doctor told me to focus on eating protein, Javi.” You gestured to the half-made bowl of eggs, mayo, and pickles. “This is protein.”

“Baby, I’m just looking out for both of you.” Javier held his hands up in mock-defense and you couldn’t help the sharp laugh that escaped you. “What?”

“I have another month of this and I’ll be damned if you keep me confined to that fucking bedroom.” You warned him, pointing at him with the knife you’d used to cut the eggs. “Knock it off.”

Javier frowned, but he nodded his head understandingly. “I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“I know you are.” You sighed, tossing the knife in the sink. “But you’re driving me crazy. I’m miserable enough without feeling like I’m trapped in this house, alright?”

And he was still being so cautious with you. That was getting under your skin too. Javier was treating your like a porcelain doll and you fucking hated it. 

At least you had managed to get him to finally touch you the other morning. That had taken the edge off the unruly hormones that cropped up, but Javier had gone straight back to barely touching you. 

It was so different from when you were pregnant with Josie. It had come with its own difficulties, sure, but Javier hadn’t been this distant with you — he didn’t treat you like a patient. 

“I’m just following the doctor’s orders.” Javier reminded you, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “I don’t want to see you in the hospital like that again, baby.”

You sighed heavily, turning around to face him as you stirred your bowl of egg salad, folding the ingredients in. “Trust me, Javier — ending up in the hospital is the last thing I want. But these past few months… I don’t know. Blame it pregnancy hormones or whatever, but I feel more like a baby incubator and less like your pregnant partner.” You sat the bowl aside, turning your focus on him. 

“I’m—“

“If that’s an apology, I really don’t want it, Javi. I get why you’re reacting this way, but it’s driving me insane.” You gestured between the two of you. “I miss this. I feel like every conversation we have is about how I feel, or if I’ve been too active, or what’s happening inside of me.” 

You hated to say that it felt like some of the spark was gone, but it definitely felt lackluster lately. Everything was centered around the baby, leaving everything else to get lost in the background. 

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I’m not going to force a conversation.” You shot back, turning back to spread the egg salad onto the bread and finish with your sandwich. “Can you clean up for me? I’d hate to do anything too strenuous.”

“Baby—“

“Would you like to feed me too?” You questioned as you breezed past him. 

“I realize I’ve been overbearing.” He snapped and you were almost thrilled to get some reaction out of him. “But do you have any idea how fucking traumatizing it was to show up at the hospital? To not know if I was going to lose you? To lose all of this?” He set his jaw hard and shook his head. “I saw you bleeding out in Colombia again, but this time I didn’t have a belt to stop the bleeding.”

You hesitated, turning to look back at him. “I know it was hard on you, Javier… but I’m still me. I’m not some fragile egg you have to protect like a penguin—“ 

Javier’s brows drew together, “What?”

“Bad analogy.” You shrugged. “What I’m saying is… I have high blood pressure, but that’s not who I am. I don’t know… I just had very different expectations for this pregnancy.”

He didn’t say anything else to that. He just stared at you, long and hard before he busied himself with cleaning up the mess you had made.

You headed for the sofa with your sandwich, wondering if he would even join you or if he’d sulk in the kitchen until you inevitably retreated back to the bedroom. 

Stevie barked quietly, jumping up onto the sofa beside you and sitting as close to you as possible without being on you. “That’s my good girl.” You cooed, scratching at her ears. “You like ear scratchies?”

“I could do with some good ear scratchies.” Javier remarked as you loosened his tie and strolled into the family room.

“Ear scratchies are for good boys.” You told him, taking a bite of your sandwich as you gave him a skeptical look. “Not sure that applies.”

Javier rubbed at the back of his neck as he moved to sit down on the arm of the sofa, sighing heavily. “Baby, I don’t wanna fight.”

“We’re not fighting.” You told him, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m just really not in the mood for being treated like I can’t do anything.”

“I know.” Javier slid off the arm of the sofa and onto the cushion beside Stevie. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You pursed your lips as you turned to look at him, brows drawn together. “Apology accepted.” You smiled a little, leaning forward to sit the plate down on the coffee table. “Stevie, down.” You told the dog, waiting for her to jump off the sofa and lay down at your feet before you patted your leg. 

Javier chuckled softly before he scooted down onto the sofa and rested his head on your lap. “Thank you.”

You brushed your fingers over his forehead, “You’re welcome, babe.” You told him softly, winding your fingers through his hair. “How was class today?”

“I was lecturing on the constitution.” He dragged his hand over his face and sighed heavily. “So you know how it went.”

“No wonder why you’re being such a dick.” You retorted, tracing your finger down his nose. 

Javier huffed softly, turning his head to press a kiss to your stomach. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“I know.”

“I just don’t want anything to go wrong.” He told you honestly and you knew he meant well. 

“Neither do I.” You tugged gently at his hair. “But please let me do what I feel is right, okay? I know my body and my mind — I know what I need.”

Javier nodded his head slowly, reaching up to catch your hand, bringing it down to press a kiss to your palm. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You promised him. “Even when you make me want to kill you.”

He snorted, “And that’s how I know you love me.” 

The last thing you needed was the added stress of being at odds with the one person who made everything in the world feel right. 

[soysaurus]

alright alright, how abt the words: shiny, tongue, bones, chest.

any or all, your choice.

(also use the ctrl+f and search instead of scrolling through 30k?? dumbass???)

i did use that shortcut lmfao. i just said scroll...bc i can dfkgjjkbKJSDBKDGJFB BUT UH OK IM GOING TO FIND ALL OF THESE WORDS. with my gay ocs bc fuck fanfic im going to neglect all of my fic wips

tongue:

His heart sinks, and Remi can taste the curdled milk bubbling on his tongue. He can see the way his eyes stare in his mind, how his lips are pressed shut like every time his mum came home. She had always hated wearing rings.

bones (italics has been put in bold bc...i put all of this in italics here fsr why did i do this):

Remi stuffs his hands in his—actually, Tom’s—jacket pockets. “Nothin’,” he murmurs. He ducks his head down, but all it does is make his cheek bones more visible. They burn under the yellow light overhead.

chest:

The metal on Remi’s finger screams as he slams his hands down on the counter, teeth gritted, and gums raw and exposed. They’re matching, with Tom’s lips and Remi’s flesh. The butterflies in his chest flutter again, and brushes of air ghost his hands, feeling just like before.

omg so it looks like shiny is another word i dont use often. ive gone through all my oc wips and multiple fic wips and i find anything help. (thats a lie, actually, but i found it in an old dabihawks wip tWICe but i hated those sentences so i searched and searched AND FINALLY TACHIGIN MY BELOVED HAVE BLESSED ME WITH THIS WORD AGAIN.) so here 'shiny' is:

20:13

oh, hey. look, it’s you.

[Image: A huge, shiny anvil is laying on the ground. Below the anvil, squashed like some measly bug that doesn’t know its place in the world, is what appears to be a scraggly man. He is holding onto a pencil, crying.]

thank you for this ask!! i actually really love all these words. (aside from shiny. im neutral on shiny.) but i feel like this says a lot about my writing haha. my old english hs teacher told me my writing was very, um, sensual. in front of the whole class, which was embarrassing, but i guess he meant it in the way that i focus a lot on experiencing emotions through feel and touch. so i tend to draw a lot of attention to the human body and the certain things it does.

[ohtheseboysilove]

Ghost from the past V [Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 4, 500 K + (don’t know what happened)

Warnings : language, angst, fluff, the usual 

Summary :  Reader and Roger are in love and happy. Until Ally, first love and ex-girlfriend of Roger come back after years of silence, bringing chaos in their perfect life.

Note : finally chapter 5...im posting it earlier than I thought but m not fan of this one but I can’t do better honestly, chaper 6 & 7 are much better. I’m almost done with this story, I will probably do 9 chapters, maybe 10 but not more. I really appreciate all the love you sent me guys, it’s so so cool to read all your messages, thanks again ! I love you all my cutie pies !!

 Masterlist & Requests

@/none of these  gifs are mine xx

“Why didn’t you tell me ?” You asked Roger, your eyes puffy from the poor sleep you had the night before. “You should have tell me you were fucking married Rog ! Your ex-girlfriend had to do it, I’m so embarrassed right now, my god” You sighed deeply and rubbed your face, exhausted by all the previous events.

You and the drummer were currently sitting in your bed, facing each other to talk about the situation. He just came back from Ally’s place and even if you were hurt, you were a grown ass woman and decided to stop dramatising the last events, you needed to confront Roger about this wedding. You loved him too much to throw away three years of your life together without giving him a chance to explain himself. You tried to focus on the fact that the marriage was only valid in the state of Nevada and nowhere else...well he wasn’t entire sure of that but you decided to ignore that fact, for the sake of your mental health...You had a hard time to believe that he hid this marriage from you, purposely. You needed to understand.

“(Y/N), I swear on Seth’s head, I never thought about this night again, never. I completely forget about it until yesterday. I...fuck, I will do anything to prove you this wedding never meant anything.. You’re the only one I want to marry, I don’t want you to doubt about it, not for a second” He grabbed your hands and squeezed them before pressing a kiss on your wedding ring. “I swear, I forget about it, I never declared our...engagement to the english authority or whatever. I’m not even sure it’s valid, the papers probably never left this shitty wedding chapel” He shook his head, his gaze never leaving yours. You nodded slowly, feeling a little bit lighter. You knew your Roger, he was good at a lot of things but lying wasn’t one of his talent and when he had tell you he forget about this, you believed him.

“Okay Roger” You murmured and squeezed back his hands. Of course you believed him, you wouldn’t have accepted the ring if you had any doubt about his sincerity. He deserved a second chance. You weren’t perfect and he wasn’t either, no one was and maybe you would regret it later but right now, the only thing you wanted was to forget the evening before and had your fiancé back in your arms. Nothing else. “It was humiliating to hear about your wedding by Ally”

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just never matter to me, it’s was just a drunk joke, nothing more” The blond shrugged and caressed gently your knee, trying to convince you. “And are you even surprise that something like this happened to me ? Getting drunk and married at Vegas ? You know how stupid I can be when I’m partying a bit too hard” He gave you a tentative smile and a small one creeped on your lips, he wasn’t totally wrong.

“I give you that. But this is the last time, Roger. I want to know everything, no more secret” He nodded eagerly and relieved was flowing on his features. “And I want...I want you to treat me like I matter to you more than Ally. You know I love Seth and I’m glad he is in our life but I never accepted to be the second woman in your life. Ally is her mother, I understand that and I want you to have a correct relation with her, I don’t want tension between the two of you, for Seth’s sake but for my own I’m asking you to be honest with her. I want you to tell her that I’m the one you love, not her anymore. She need to hear it from you”

“You think she still love me ?” The drummer asked with surprised face. “I never thought–“

“Of course she’s still in love with you Roger !” You snapped, how could be that blind ? He pinched his lips and nodded silently. “I can’t...I can’t just sit there and feeling like she is more important to you. I don’t want to stress every time you saw her, wondering if you’re gonna leave me for her, I...I don’t won’t live like that” I won’t marry you if the situation don’t change Roger”

“You have my words, baby. You are my priority, you and Seth, I’m sorry I had been so heartless with you. I should have noticed that my behaviour hurt you, I love you so much I thought it was enough for you to not be worry but it’s was clearly stupid” The blond sighed guiltily, he was nervous and sweaty. The fact that you talked about maybe not marrying him did make him understand how bad was the situation, much worse than he thought. “If it was you who had a baby with your ex always around, I would have completely lose my mind. I will...I will make Ally understand, she need to respect you and if she can’t do that, we will see each other only to picking and dropping Seth, nothing more. I would do anything to not losing you my love, I swear to you”

You stared at each other for several minutes before a small smile painted on your features. You were okay but he couldn’t screw up anymore. The atmosphere immediately relaxed after the intense conversation, bringing both of you at the edge of tears but it was necessary. Now you could move on.

He tried to peck your lips but put your hands on his face, pushing him away childishly. He whined and rested his head on your lap, his eyes looking even bigger from above. “Forgive me ? Please ?” He pouted and used his puppy eyes to convince you.

“Don’t think you can escape this one so easily Taylor” You pinched his cheek and slid your fingers into his messy hairs, trying to get ride of the knots. He smirked as he knew you weren’t piss off at him anymore. “I want you to cancel this wedding”

“But babe ! I need to go to Las Vegas for that ! It’s so far away and–“ He stopped talking when he saw your death stare, your fingers tugging at his hairs a bit more harder than necessary. “But I can totally do it– ouch babe ! I can do it for my beautiful fiancée”

“Good. It settled then” You let go of his hairs and he sat up, checking if his hairs were still on his head, his eyes looking at you suspiciously. “I hope you’re planning to go rapidly because I really don’t like the role of mistress you gave to me” You scoffed and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I will...really soon” He tilted pouty lips toward you and sighed happily when you reply to his kiss. “Maybe you can come with me ?”

“I’m not very fond of the idea to going somewhere where you are married to someone else” You crossed your arm with a jaded face.

“Oh come on my little sweetheart” He pushed you onto the bed and crawled on top of you, nuzzling his pretty mouth against your neck. “We can have so much fun, just you and me, tons drinks and no cloth on” He sunk playfully his teeth onto your skin, pressing his hips against yours. “We didn’t go on weekend just the both of us since Seth entered our life, we...well, especially you, deserved some good time” You hummed quietly and Roger took that as an encouragement, tangled your legs together. “I can book you some massages for the first day, meanwhile I’m going cancelling this stupid wedding. Then we can do whatever you want, babe. What do you say ?” He raised his head and pressed your forehead together, putting all his weight on you.

“You’re crushing me, blondie” you scoffed as you pretended to be annoyed but both of you knew it wasn’t true. The drummer looked at you with hope in his pretty eyes and you pretended to think about it, not wanting to give in to quickly. The man really succeeded to turn the shitty situation he was, into a little romantic weekend, damn he was good. “Alright, I’m coming with you but only because I want to see the Grand Canyon”

He grinned widely and captured your lips for a steamy kiss which quickly turned into a hot make-out session. You slid a hand between your bodies, lightly palming his bulge through his pants. He moaned lowly into your mouth, bucking his hips into your hands for more friction. When his fingers wandered under your top, brushing your tits, you quickly slapped his hand and pushed him away.

“I don’t know who you think I am but I certainly don’t sleep with married man, Roger” You scoffed before getting up.

“Babe, seriously ?” He cried like a kid who didn’t have his ice cream and he made grabby hands toward you. “Please, come back to bed”

You ignored him and picked up clean clothes from your wardrobe.

“I’m going to take a shower and you’re not invited” You walked into the bathroom in your room and took care to lock the door behind you. The drummer mumbling something from the bed and you chuckled, pretty satisfied of yourself. “You better booked us this trip quickly because you’re not touching him until this marriage is cancel” You yelled through the door.

He booked the four-days trips the very same afternoon.

******************************************************************************

The next days went pretty smooth, you were excited about this trip, totally pushing aside the thoughts about Ally and Freddie and how you were hurt. You couldn’t really do more about them anyway. One of your friend told you to fight back against Ally but it wasn’t a good idea and you knew it. First and most important she was the mother of Roger’s kid and you will be his wife in few months, you and her would see each other even you didn’t want to, starting a war with her wouldn’t be a good thing neither for Rog or Seth.

Secondly, to be honest with yourself, you definitively weren’t good with conflicts, some people had loud mouth and didn’t take shit from anyone, well you weren’t like that. People could see you as a coward as you were avoiding arguments but you simply didn’t like quarrelling, you preferred drop the subject and continued your life, minding your own business. Ally seemed to be your contrary, you saw her humiliated a poor waitress at Freddie’s party and when she chatted her back, she became even louder until the other one decided she wasn’t worth her time.

If you started to be as nasty as her, you were sure she would win, it was in her nature. So, for now, you planned to avoid her or if it wasn’t possible, to had the less interactions possible with her, focussing on Roger instead. He was important, not her.

As soon as you came home from work, around four in the afternoon, the phone rang loudly in the flat.

“(Y/N) Taylor on the phone” The cute laugh of Roger echoing through your ears, making you smiled stupidly. “Hi love”

“I do love the sound of that, can’t wait to make it official” You bit your lower lip, entangling your fingers around the phone cord as you divagated about your wedding with the love of your life. “Are you still here baby ?”

His raspy voice brought you back on earth and you giggled softly. “Yeah, Rog, I’m here. What’s up ? Is everything okay at the studio ?”

“Well, we’re officially done with the album ! The Game is all ready to be release in two weeks” His excited tone made you smiled even wider.

“That’s great guys ! I’m so proud of you”

“When are you coming at the studio ?” You frowned and closed your eyes for a second, you always came to listen before anyone else the new album, you did it for the past three years and it was a sort of tradition.

“I...I don’t want to see Freddie Rog” You whispered sadly. “I really don’t want to face him right now”

“(Y/N), you always come, please. Veronica and Chrissie will be there too, I need you by my side, it’s important for me” You sighed quietly, feeling bad to turn his offer down.

But the only thought of seeing Freddie made your stomach churned.

“Rog...I’m sorry but we can celebrate tonight, just you and me” You proposed with a timid voice. “I can make your fa–“

“I understand (Y/N), it’s alright. I will see you later” He hanged up with a weak voice, you knew he was sad about your rejection.

You sighed deeply, rubbing your forehead. Did you overacted about seeing Freddy ?

You tried to distract yourself during the next half and hour but the only thing you could think of was Roger. Alone. Brian with Chrissie and their kid. John with Veronica and their two children. Freddie with Paul. But Roger would be all by himself as all the boys’ family would listened and congratulated them for the new record.

You kicked your own ass and quickly put your shoes on, grabbed your black jeans jacket and your handbag before leaving your apartment. You climbed in the first taxi you saw and gave the studio’s address. You quickly made your way through the different corridors of the place until finding the loudest room of the building. Jacob, the oldest son of Deaky and Veronica, ran next to you as his little sister was right behind, both of them giggling like crazy and pushing the door open.

“Hi auntie (Y/N)” You waved back and followed them inside looking for Roger.

The room was filled with Freddie’s voice as the new vinyl of the band was playing in the background. Brian was cuddling his son, both of them listening attentively to the music, as Chrissie was chatting with Veronica, a timid belly, popping out slightly.

You were wrong thinking Roger would be all alone. You smiled softly as Seth was in on Roger’s lap, his father’ sunglasses perched on his head, bobbing his cute face in rhythm. The drummer was beaming with pride, singing quietly the lyrics to him.

“Do you like Daddy’s songs my little angel ?” Of course Ally was here too. She was never far away.

“I love them Mum ! When I will be older I want to be a rock star like Dada !” He clapped his little hands together and his parents chucked at his enthusiasm. “Can I have fish fingers at the restaurant tonight mummy ?”

“You going to the restaurant tonight ?” Roger asked to Ally as he passed his fingers in Seth’s blond locks.

You were standing awkwardly at the entrance of the door, not very visible to the others as you were wondering if you should have came here or not. Maybe Roger was mad at you and didn’t want you here anymore.

Ally’s face flushed a bit, a thing you never witnessed before, it was weird. She was always confident but right now she was looking at Roger like a deer caught in the headlights, her fingers toying the hem of her shirt.

“Well I was thinking, we can go, the three of us, to the restaurant ? To celebrate your album. Seth is very excited to go out with Daddy and Mommy” She smiled hopefully at him and, just by looking at her, you saw how much she still loved Roger. She was totally in love with him, her nervousness was betraying her.

You swallowed quietly and took a step back, waiting anxiously for the drummer’s answer.

“I...hum, I already have plan with (Y/N) tonight, sorry” Her smile fell immediately as relieve ran through your veins. He rubbed awkwardly his shoulder, coughing a bit to avoid the deception on Ally’s face.

“But she’s not here. She didn’t even come to support to you even if she obviously know how important it is for you” She replied with bitterness.

“Ally, stop” His cold tone surprised her. “You and me, we need to talk after, I want you to stop talking shit about (Y/N), she’s gonna be my wife, get use to it” She seemed deeply offended and you decided to make know about your presence, satisfied by Roger’s answer.

You cleared your throat and knocked on the open door, walking in everyone’ sight, almost timidly. You hoped the blond wasn’t going to tell you to fuck off after refusing to come here in the first place. You couldn’t give this satisfaction to Ally.

“Hi everyone, sorry I’m late” As soon as you stepped inside, the three kids ran toward you, happy to see their auntie. Even Seth climbing down from his father’s lap and come toward you, the sunglasses sliding on his nose. “How are doing my cutie pies ?” You gave a collective hug to all the kids and chatted for few minutes with them.

You stood up and gave a quick hug to Chrissie, Brian and John, opting for a kiss on Veronica’s cheek as her belly was on the way and you didn’t want to hurt her or whatever. Freddie seemed uncomfortable, hesitating about how he was supposed to act after his last party. You gave him a simple hi Fred and a hi Paul without even looked at them before made your way to Roger who had stand up, Ally next him.

“(Y/N), Rog said you were working” She said with a tense smile.

You glanced at the drummer who seemed still hurt, his eyes looking at his shoes. You knew you made him sad when you refused to come, he liked to pretend he was a tough guy but inside, he was a big softie in desperate need of his family’s approval.

“Yes but being here to support the boys was more important” You shrugged and tucked a strand of hairs behind your hairs. “If I’m not too late, of course” It sounded more like a question as you timidly peered to Roger, your way to ask for his pardon.

He bit his lips before cracking a small smile, grabbing your forearm and tugging you into his embrace.

“’f course it’s not too late” You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck as he did the same with your waist. “I’m glad your here” He whispered to your ear before pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.

You could feel Ally’s burning gaze on your back, still standing there but for once she was the one out of place, bitterly looking at the both of you.

“I’m so sorry Roger, I’m so stupid sometime” You murmured against his shoulder, sighing peacefully.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, (Y/N). I should have understood after what Freddie said to you” You smiled gently at him as you raised your head, giving a deep kiss.

He seemed a bit surprise at the beginning, you weren’t really fan of big kiss in public but he happily replied, his lips moving in perfect synchrony with yours. When you heard Ally’s heels clicking furiously onto the floor as she made her way to the rest of the group, you couldn’t repress a smile curling up on your face.  

*************************************************************************************

"What do you mean you going to Las Vegas next month ?" Brian asked exasperatedly at Roger who just broke the new about your little trip.

"Well, I want to spend a fun weekend with my future wife before we have to left for our tour" Roger smirked, an arm around your shoulder. "And I also have to cancel the wedding I had with Ally during our A Night at the opera tour, I mean I’m going to get married for real this time, want to do the things correctly" He gently squeezed your arm and you pressed back his thigh, where your hand was sagely resting. 

Everyone decided to all go together at the restaurant to celebrate the album, you were sat next to Roger and his son was on his other side, calmly sipping his apple juice. You pinched your lips as you saw Ally’ shocked face when the blond talked about the cancellation of their wedding, truly priceless. She glanced at you and you pretended you didn’t see her nasty look. She probably regretted to told you about it now.

"But Rog, do you know both you and Ally are supposed to sign the paper ?" John pipped as he was cutting Emily’s meat.

"What ? No...I...do I really ?" Roger frowned and you tended your jaw as Ally looked deeply relieved. And amused. 

"It make sense yes" Veronica shrugged. "She has to sign the paper to get married, it the same process to dissolve a marriage, I guess"

"Oh she’s not wrong Rog, you need me" Ally commented happily, her usual smirk back on her features. "I would love to come but I can’t bring Seth to Vegas, obviously"

Of course she would find a way to keep them married as long as she could. You cleared your throat and turned to Roger.

"Maybe your mom could watch Seth ? And Ally can go back to him as soon as the problem is solve" 

"You’re right baby. I will call my mom tomorrow and book a ticket for you Ally” He nodded, satisfied to the solution you proposed and took a sip of his champagne.

Great, now Ally was tagging along for your romantic trip, absolutely awesome.

****************************************************************************

You sighed annoyingly as you washed the dirty plates, mumbling against Ally. Who else anyway ? She was fucking rooted at your dinner’s table for the past hour, chatting with Roger. Seriously it was friday night, didn’t have something else to rather than squatting your living room ? She came to drop Seth for the weekend and Roger, always the sweetheart, offered a beer, it was a big mistake. She managed to drink so slowly that all the bubbles were popped, the thought that the beer was probably had become warm did put a smile on your face.

Then it was dinner time, earlier than usual as Seth was still young so obviously when the meal finished to cook, she was still here and the little boy asked her to eat with you and his father. Roger asked you if you were okay with that, like you could say something else than an of course. You didn’t want Seth to hate you because his mom was a bitch.

So you painfully watched Ally ate your delicious risotto and monopolizing the conversation, talking about her and as usual, the past.

“But then my mom, Seth and me went to Milan and oh I swear it’s probably my favourite city in Italy !” She was speaking too loudly and drinking your favourite bottle of red wine, giggling stupidly at every words which were coming out from Roger’s mouth. “Did you went to Italy (Y/N) ?

You contained yourself to not roll your eyes. The only time she spoke to you was to proving you how her life and love story with the drummer was better than you. It was subtle, making you even more annoyed.

“Sadly no, I never went to Italy” You gave a fake smile and took a large spoonful of your plate to stopping you from saying something nasty.

“ Oh ! That’s such a shame !” She was so over-dramatic, it was absolutely pathetic. “Roger brought me to Venice for one of my birthday, it was so romantic, right Rog ?”

She fluttered exaggeratedly her eyelashes to the drummer and this time you rolled your eyes, deeply. She was ashamed of nothing.

“I will bring you to Italy, love. We can go for our next Valentine’s day” He glanced tenderly at you and Ally’ smile disappeared into a thin line

But she kept going on, speaking about every things that could make you uncomfortable. The blond didn’t really answer, humming and nodding from time to time, focusing on make Seth eating his vegetables.

“Your risotto is really good (Y/N) !” Ally exclaimed as she pushed back her empty plate. You smiled and waited for the but coming. “The only thing, oh please don’t take it wrong...the meat had a strange taste” She made a whiny smile, shrugging.

“That’s because it’s not meat, it’s tofu Ally” You explained as you poured yourself another glass of wine, finishing the bottle but you didn’t want to grab another one, praying she would understand it was time to go.

“Tofu ? Why– can’t you to buy real meat ? Oh my...have you and Rog money’s problems ?” Roger shook his head with an amused smile.

“We don’t have any problems Ally, (Y/N) is vegetarian, that’s all”

“Oh...right. I heard it was kind of the new trend to follow” She watched her son eating the tofu without any problem and seemed almost annoyed by it. “More and more celebrities are doing it, but I didn’t think you would do it too (Y/N). Plus, I read somewhere that it wasn’t real safe for your health ya know ? Our body do need meat” She smiled gently but her ton was a tad too snobbish and pretentious for your taste.

Before the drummer could answer, you stood up to take away the empty plates, you couldn’t stand her presence for another minute.

“I’m vegetarian since I’m fifteen Ally, so thank you but you can keep your advices for someone who is interested in it” You gave her a big smile as she tensed at your mocking voice. “And I’m not doing it to follow the trend, but by personal conviction, you should try sometime”

Her outrageous face was absolutely priceless and couldn’t contain the smirk on your face. After that you heard her complain to Roger who was hiding his cheeky smile behind his hand.

You were supposed to put Seth to bed, as you wanted to bound more with the little boy but Ally ended to do it with Rog who insisted he could handle it by himself. But she insisted more. So you had to witness Roger and Ally bathed Seth, then read him a story as she was glued to the drummer’ side but Seth was so happy to have his both parent putting him to bed, it caused an ache in your heart.

“Thank you Rog, I spent a delicious evening with you, like always” She hugged a little bit too long and couldn’t resist to press a kiss on his cheek.

“See you on monday Ally” You didn’t even look at her when she finally left and sighed deeply.

Roger came to you and wrapped his arms around you waist, kissing softly your hairs. You scrunched you nose in disgust and quickly wiped away the flashy red lipstick from his cheek, making him laughed.

“She is annoying” You mumbled as you put your head on his chest.

“I know, I hope you ready for sunday, she’s gonna be even worse”

Seth’s fifth birthday was in two days and you were anything but ready to deal with Ally and her family

**********************************************************************************

Tag list : @16wiishes @borhapqueen92 @thewinchesterchronicles @khaleesi2017 @hawaiipeople-blog @witchbloodsworld @broken-pieces @spideyyypeter @vanitysfairr @glowingez @queenmaracasandlove @yourealegendroger @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing @launopeach @fearless2tobeme @awkwardangelshezza @queen-turtle-boiii @blushingwueen @fandomnerdxox

[samingtonwilson]

Comforting Kisses

continuation of first (and second) kisses but can be read on its own.

next part: morning kisses

Summary: comforting kisses prompt- B takes A’s hands first, kissing their knuckles and palms. Then B reaches up to hold A’s face, pressing soft kisses around their cheeks, their lips, murmuring “it’s okay” and “you’re alright” and “I’m here” in between.

Pairing: bucky x reader

Warnings: language, slightly angsty, slightly fluff, sad bucky

A/N: that gif has nothing to do with the fic but he’s sad in it and he’s sad in this fic so. it works. also i love him in that gif bye. ALSO this is likely my favorite fic i’ve ever written n if it doesn’t do numbers i’ll be angry. im sorry if the read more break is acting up, but it’s on there.

The clear plastic binder sat open in your lap, laminated script pages barely readable in the dim lighting of your bedroom. Only the six-foot tall standing lamp beside the velvet loveseat upon which you sat and the far-too-expensive Jo Malone lime basil and mandarin candles constituted your sources of light, the soft chimy music you’d asked FRIDAY to play pouring through the overhead speakers as the only sounds aside from the calming voice you spoke in.

The air smelled divine and you were tempted to stop your scripted speech to tell Sam as such, though you were still unsure as to if the candles were worth their hefty price tag. But you stayed on-book— Sam needed the guided meditation and you promised to deliver.

“Now focus on your breathing. Notice each breath but only observe. Do not try to change your breathing in any way.”

You looked up at Sam when you paused. Smiling at the slow rising and falling of his chest as he sat perched in the center of your unnecessarily plush and large bed, you took a deep breath of your own before continuing. “If any thoughts arise, acknowledge them and let them go softly and calmly. Return your attention to your breathing.”

You did this for one another often. Sometimes Sam would sit in the exact place you were with a similar script, ocean soundscapes emitting from the speakers as he read and you focused on your breathing, on imagining the mist of waves sprinkling across your skin soothingly, on the wind and salt tangling your hair and making your eyelashes dewy.

Other times, such as this very moment, you would read lines to Sam with the intention of doing away his anxiety. You would tell him to focus on his breathing, on the feeling of the wind washing over him as if he were flying— but without the carbon fiber wings, without the red-tinted goggles and the itchy tactical trousers. Without the pressure of a mission, without the tension of a mission, without the voices and grunts and screams shaking his eardrums as they droned from the comms.

Of course, the two of you never told the others. Though you knew it was far from likely that any of the universe’s mightiest heroes would poke fun, something about your deepest insecurities being broadcasted to a large set of super-people, even super-people that would understand, burrowed itself under your skin and made you feel itchy.

After all, as an Avenger, you were expected to behave a certain way, look a certain way, feel a certain way— and while each of you deviated from that media-enforced norm, you kept up the image. For your own sanity’s sake and for everyone else’s, you weren’t going to be the reason Steve Rogers lost his hair after a hundred years and Natasha Romanoff lost her cool for the first time in thirty.

You’d known Sam a while, however. You knew about Riley, about the nightmares that sometimes still kept him up at night, about the heartbreak he repeatedly experienced at the VA— he knew he couldn’t save everyone as the Falcon or Sam Wilson, but somehow he still expected himself to. He knew about your demons as well, about the scars that lay scattered over and under your skin, and was the only person for which you’d allowed such a thing.

He’d told you countless times to allow Bucky the same courtesy, especially now that the two of you were… whatever you were. He assured you that Bucky cared for you just as you cared for him, that Bucky would want to hear what you had to say, that Bucky would want to help you in any way he could.

But he never pressured you. He knew Bucky was busy working past the shackles that may have no longer physically restrained him but were still digging sharply into every one of his cells, and he couldn’t imagine what it must have taken Bucky to allow you to come so close. Obviously he was not knowledgeable on the finite details of your… whatever you were with Bucky, but he had an inkling of the limits each of you had set from just knowing both parties. Both stubborn as fuck, scared as fuck, touch-starved as fuck but terrified of the outcome of trying to change that parties.

You thought Bucky’s hands and lips alone almost broke the dam— and the inclusion of anything else, of having him literally bury himself inside you, would desecrate it. You knew once you’d crossed that line once, it would never be enough. But you also knew that, for him, it likely would be. After all, he looked pained enough after every single soft kiss. You couldn’t imagine his agony, his fear, his utter misery at even the prospect of anything more.

It was when you seamlessly flowed into the lines about soaring through a perfect night sky with stars and glittering far-off planets that a scream cut through the calm atmosphere.

After a brief and painful squeeze, your heartbeat immediately picked up so the tired organ slammed against your ribs hard enough to make your bones shake. You swallowed over a dry throat and narrowed your eyes at the pages.

You didn’t speak for some time as another scream was torn the floor above you. You found yourself unable to read the pages— blurriness occluded your vision and you were unable to blink or will it away.

Sam said your name softly and you jumped, eyes wide as they met his. He offered you a small smile that glowed even in the limited lighting. “Go.”

Staring at him for a moment only led to shaking your head. You cleared your throat and squinted at the pages. “The, um— The stars surround— The—”

“FRIDAY, lights, please. Dim,” he requested gently. As the lights came up slowly, he tilted his head and he inspected your expression. “Baby girl, go upstairs. He needs you.”

Incredulously, you shook your head. “He doesn’t want me there.”

“He doesn’t wan—” Sam scoffed. “He wants you there, he wants you wherever he is.”

“He recoils when I touch him, Sam. That first kiss is all I’ve gotten out of him that’s made me feel remotely wanted.”

Sam offered you a disbelieving, dry look of his own. “Trick, get your ass upstairs.”

Your laugh was borne of a gasp, your smile easy as you shut the binder and climbed off the loveseat. “Blow the candles out and put them away before you leave.”

You heard him hum curtly and saw him wave a dismissive hand as you walked out of the room, socks sliding across sealed concrete floors to the stairs.

You nodded once in greeting at a visibly shaken Wanda, her emerald eyes wide as if she’d given into temptation and looked for even a millisecond into Bucky’s mind as he whimpered from behind the door she stood beside, the screams done and over but the heartbreak of the softer sounds not any less.

You set your hand on her shoulder and winced to yourself when she jumped. “Wan, angel, I can handle it from here.”

Glistening eyes, still disoriented, met yours and she nodded stiffly. “He’s— There’s so much.”

“I know there is, I know.” When she leant into your touch, you wrapped her in a hug, running a smooth hand over her back. “Will you be okay?”

She nodded a little more fluidly. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just— Take care.”

You smiled at her retreating figure. “I will.”

A steadying breath filled your lungs and you pushed Bucky’s door open, limited compound ground lights streaming through thin, gauzy drapes and bleeding across his sweat-soaked skin.

He sat, shoulders hunched, in his bed with the blankets pooled at his waist and his legs outstretched before him. You could remember Steve telling you something about Bucky’s internal thermostat. Though his temperature ran warmer than the norm, he always felt too cold— as if still trapped in the nightmare of cryofreeze— so he rolled himself in a few blankets and the comforter when he tried to sleep.

You shut the door behind you and Bucky looked up from the hands in which he’d dropped his head. His features were grief and fear stricken, a weight you couldn’t imagine pulling at the corners of his bitten lips and it seemed to only grow heavier as you neared him cautiously.

You sat at the edge of the bed, folding one leg atop the mattress and saying quietly, “Bucky, —”

Something inside of him seemed to break at the mere sound of his name on your tongue, features crumpling and eyes leaving yours only to find you again as tears fell and rolled down his cheeks.

As he lifted his flesh hand to reach for you, you reflexively moved to kneel beside him and took both his hands instead. Your thumbs brushed across vibranium and his skin as you brought them to your lips, lightly kissing his knuckles and palms.

You knew the kisses you pressed to the metal wouldn’t feel the same for him, you knew he could only perceive the pressure and the relative temperature, yet his heart seemed to break even more at the gesture.

This was the person he’d been pushing away, the person he’d been deathly afraid to show his heart to, the person, that in all honesty, his battered heart belonged to. And because you held whatever power there was to wield, it was overwhelming that you were using that power, that influence and dynamism to express warmth. It made his mind grapple with his previous definition of power, of influence that was only used to torture, to pick apart his senses and toy with them like he was disposable. His tears came quicker, it made him fall back to Earth.

He occupied his body now, that disembodied existence subsiding for a single, addictive minute. Still, a broken voice asked, “You’re here, right? I’m— I’m here, with you?”

You nodded quickly. “Yes. Yeah, you are.”

Reluctantly, he let go of your hands and fisted either side of your shirt to pull you closer, coaxing you to straddle his lap so his arms could wind tightly enough around you to make your breathing difficult. But you didn’t seem to mind, hands holding his face to brush your thumbs against his skin again.

You then leant forward to press soft kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his temples, whispering placatingly, “It’s okay, Bucky. You’re okay, you’re alright.”

His arms tightened further as a result, an almost bruising strength in the fingers that sat below your ribs. You thought fleetingly that if he needed a reminder of your presence, of his own, you could show him the marks.

“I’m here,” you continued between each kiss, feather-light kisses now pressed to his lips. “You’re okay.”

Your fingers combed through his long hair and nails lightly scraped his scalp— it seemed to help him relax in your arms. You sighed out almost inaudibly as he turned to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he said against your skin after what felt like hours but was likely a few handfuls of minutes, hands adjusting your legs to wrap around his waist so you sat more comfortably and as close as possible. “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers stopped and Bucky winced to himself. “Why are you— There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

He let you sit back so you could look at him and he could look at you. Slate blue eyes with a degree of weakness you wished you could alleviate stared at you openly, the hands on you in stark contrast to anything you’d experienced with Bucky over the last few weeks.

You took his hands in yours again, lacing your fingers through his so your palms sat against his. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“You’ve been so—” he took a breath. “You’ve been so patient with me.”

Shrugging a shoulder, you frowned in consideration briefly. “You’re worth that.”

There was a renewed tightness in his throat as he looked at you. A groan rumbled in his chest as he surged forward, catching you from losing your balance with his palms at your back as he claimed your lips with his. He seemed to want to pull you closer, to assimilate you even more as you tongue tangled with his and you crossed your ankles behind him.

His lips stayed upon your skin even as you broke the kiss to fill your lungs, kisses pressed to your cheek and jaw before his teeth, tongue, and lips marked the skin you would have tattooed his traces onto if he ever needed proof again.

Tongue against your pulsepoint, he felt your fluttering heartbeat and thought he might have imagined your quick breathing that matched his.

Part of him wanted to flip the two of you over so you were beneath him, tear the t-shirt and leggings from your skin after doing away with his own shirt and boxers so heated skin was pressed to heated skin. He wanted to taste every inch of you, hear every reaction from you, see you as you came undone.

But he knew this wasn’t the time.

Now was a time for him to hold you and for you to hold him, to ground him in the moment, to anchor him to Earth.

Now was a time for him to feel blanketed and to wrap you in that warmth as well, still turning both of you so you lay facing each other.

Now was a time for him to throw a protective arm made of vibranium over your waist, to pull you into his chest and rest his chin atop your head.

Now was a time for him to love you, but to hide just how much.

[godlyvan]

11 | 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

summary | memories of past decembers leading up to christmas day.

warnings | swearing, and idk what else honestly.

a/n | had this in my docs all december. i was sooooo ready for this. i hope you guys truly enjoy this. it took me forever to finish. i hope you’ve had a wonderful christmas, to those who celebrate.

requested | yes and no; Could you please write a Christmas one??? Snowy London, Christmas shopping, going to Christmas-themed cafés, putting up the tree, drinking hot coco in front of the chimmey, family reunions, and, Holiday Happiness in general?? (maybe Van's gf is pregnant?? so it'd be a very happy festive Van singing Christmas carols to the baby bump and stuff!) + i don’t know if you’re still planning on doing christmas themed ones but i’d love a little fluff one of van at christmas, decorating the tree at home cozy fire all that etc!!!

Day One: Snowfall

Snow began to fall. It was slow at first, barely anything on the ground until it all began to fall faster. It wasn’t quite packable snow, but it was just as beautiful. The kids wanted to go out so bad, so Y/N bundled them all up and sent them out back, following close behind. Van was still sleeping. Tour ended a mere three days ago, his sleep schedule bent out of sorts. He was physically drained, playing shows almost every night had its toll on the body. But he heard laughter coming from outside, and he knew to join his family.

Amy had rolled out a few snowballs, attempting to start a snowball fight. None of them stayed together, mid-flight they broke apart, only little clumps landing on an opponent. Giggles - it seemed - could be heard from miles away, Van smiled, standing at the garage door. Their kids screamed in joy and ran over to their father. His youngest, Oliver, wrapped his arms around his father’s legs, Amy taking his torso (she was the taller of the two, Oliver only being two, he wasn’t going to be that tall). Y/N walked over to him, waiting for their kids to go back to the snow. “How’d you sleep, babe?”

“Really good. The bed got cold when you left, but other than that, I slept like a baby.” He pressed his lips to her temple, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his touch, sighing as she closed her eyes. Her head rested on his shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. They stood there for a few minutes before a snowball was attempted to be thrown at the two. “Oi! Olli, Daddy’s gonna get you!”

“No, Mommy save me!” Y/N chased after Van, who was pretending to chase their son. Amy joined in, whisking Oliver to a safe place in their yard, telling Mommy and Daddy that they couldn’t get after them. “Hah! Can’t get me now!”

“I love you, sugar.” He spoke, her eyes directly moving to watch his lips. They were so beautiful and pink, the most wonderful thing she’d ever seen. Aside from the rest of him, of course. Especially his mind. What an intricately beautiful mess. “Did you hear me?”

“Huh, yeah. I love you, too. You know how much I love those lips of yours, Ryan.”

“Indeed I do.”

Day Two: Christmas Caroling in the Studio

It became tradition. Every first day of being back in the studio at Christmas time, they’d sing cheesy Christmas songs until they passed out from drinking so much. That was until Y/N had announced that she’d become pregnant, Van’s hands falling onto her stomach right away. He knelt down, his forehead pressing up against her stomach. “Hello, Little One. I love you so much. You’re gonna be Daddy’s favorite.”

“Van, you can’t say that. We have Amy, you know.”

“I know, love, but I’ve gotta make this baby a Daddy’s baby. Can’t have ‘im falling in love with you.”

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy yet, how can you be so sure?” She asked, his smile contorting into a cocky smirk. Damn did she know that smirk all too well. He was usually right when it came into play. He didn’t say anything as he began to sing Christmas carols to the baby. His hands put themselves back on her hips, making her sway. He wrapped his arms around her after standing back up.

“Baby, it’s cold outsiiiide.” He smiled, kissing Y/N’s nose. Her cheeks were red, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks. Her fingers curled over his ears, strands of hair brushing against her. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you, too, Van. Thanks for everything. Now, what song are we singing next?” She asked, planting a light kiss to his lips. The boys groaned behind them, begging them to stop. Bob didn’t do anything, he knew it took you two so long to realize the mutual feelings, so he let everything slip for a while.

“Can we stop with this Christmas shit? Amy’s passed out on the couch in the booth, can we just go home now?” Bondy asked, pointing over to the booth where Amy slept, her little hands tucked under her head. Van nodded, walking over to wake his daughter up, bringing him and his beautiful girls home. “See you later. Goodnight, Amy.”

“Night Uncle John.” She waved weakly, her head nestling in the crook of her father’s neck, his hand rubbing her back. “Can I sleep with you tonight, Daddy?”

“Yes you can. Mommy would love that, wouldn’t she, yeah?” Amy nodded, wrapping her arms around her father before falling asleep. “Must be all sung out.”

Day Three: Snow Angels

Nobody ever said snow angels were for kids. Well, maybe they did, but they never listened anyways. Sitting in class was hard enough for Van, but Y/N didn’t mind. She enjoyed learning, she just wasn’t one for classrooms. She could learn a lot more outside, not sitting in some desk being told what she can and cannot wear. Van definitely wanted to fix that, he hated seeing her trapped inside of a classroom without his jokes and sexual innuendos. ‘Meet me outside in 20. U won’t regret it!!’

She snuck out of class, telling the teacher she needed to see the nurse. Thankfully, the school nurse was terribly old, her hearing and vision all out of whack. She hurried to the front doors of the school, seeing Van hidden behind a tree, his smile beaming from across the way. She opened the door quietly, slipping outside to meet Van. She laughed, her hand falling into place with his. They dashed away, running to a nearby park until they were sure they were ‘safe’. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. “Van, it’s snowing! Let’s make snow angels!”

“It’s fucking freezing, no way.”

“Party pooper.” She called, finding a good place to settle in. Her legs and arms moved up and down, in and out. She giggled, snow falling onto her face. She stood up, trying not to wreck her new snow angel. It looked perfect to her, turning around to find Van smiling, cigarette hanging from his lips. She walked over to him, ripping it from his mouth. Before he could protest, she kissed him, making him stand up. His hands went to her waist, pulling her towards him. She turned them around before pushing him down on the ground.

“Oh, fuck you, Y/N.” He laughed, putting his head down on the ground. He held out his hand, “Help me up, Y/N/N, please. You owe me.”

“Fine,” she smiled, her hand grabbing Van’s. It was a trap, and she should’ve seen it coming. He pulled her on top of her, her hands instinctively going to his chest. “Smooth move, McCann.”

“Only the best for my little snow angel.” He smiled, pushing hair out of her face. Her eyes never left his. They were so blue, even more so than usual. She was completely in awe. She didn’t realize she was staring until he began to lean in, his eyes closing. He was going to kiss her, and she was going to kiss back.

Day Four: Cold and Flu Season Begins Again!

Everyone was sick. Well, everyone except Y/N. All of the boys were practically almost bedridden, snot dripping from each of their noses. Two were nauseous, three had a fever. Soup was made from scratch, Y/N’s chicken noodle recipe always made Van feel better. She’d made some for the other boys, but never got any responses back, besides Bob. He was truly a sweetheart. “Here’s soup, and a few crackers if you can stomach it. Don’t over stuff yourselves, just focus on getting better.”

“Baby, can you - achoo! - rub my back please?” Van asked, laying sideways on their bed. She smiled, nodding after setting his soup down next to the television. He laid on his stomach, using his hand to keep the wet washcloth on his forehead. Her fingertips worked wonders, trailing over every inch of his skin. His voice was slurred, his eyes beginning to droop, “Thank you, baby, that feels really nice.”

“Shhh, just close your eyes.” Van did as he was told, his eyes shutting, and his breathing slowing down, heartbeat was slow and sleepy. She smiled at his barely open mouth, light snores falling from his lips. “God, you are just the most beautiful man.”

She pulled out a photo book he’d given her for Christmas the year before, flipping through all the pictures and the spaces of where memories were soon to fill. She pulled out a note that he had written her when they were younger, explaining to her how much he truly loved her. Van didn’t give it to Y/N until they’d said ‘I love you’ to each other. He had already written it before they even started dating. That boy was so filled with love and happiness, it was inevitable for her to fall in love with him.

She looked over to him, brushing a fallen piece of hair out of his face. Her lips lightly kissed the arch of his eyebrow before leaving to go check on the other boys in the living and spare room. “You guys need anything from me before I take a nap with Van?”

“No, but thank you, Y/N.” Bob coughed, tissue stuck in his nostrils. Y/N felt bad for the boys, but knew it was inevitable.

“You’re welcome to anything in the cupboards and the fridge, please help yourselves. And don’t fight over the channel, I’m looking at you Larry.” Y/N said, pointing her finger towards Larry, who chuckled at her calling out.

Day Five: Decorating the Tree

It was quiet in the house all afternoon until the four of them came home. Their tree had been hauled all the way back on the top of the car, held down with jumper cables and lots of rope. The kids recited Spongebob’s Christmas episode, ‘Santa’s coming tonight, tonight, Santa’s coming tonight’ all the way home. It broke their heart to find out he only comes on the 24th when everyone’s asleep. “Daddy’s gonna go get the ornaments. Can we take off our shoes and coats and put them where they belong, please?”

“Yes, Mommy!” Coats were hung on the rack and shoes were on a towel by the door. They sat on the couch, Olli’s socks already laid out on the carpet, his feet dangling from the couch. Van brought in the clear box of ornaments, setting it down on the table, asking Y/N for help to bring the tree in. Of course, with Van’s self and Y/N’s sheer sarcasm, it took about twenty minutes to actually get the tree inside the door. That, and the kids decided it would be a good idea to get one of the biggest trees at the farm. Van can never say no to his children.

“You guys ready to put ornaments on or what?” Y/N asked, her kids’ ears perking up. They ran into the kitchen, watching Van open the lid to the box. Their smiles light up at the sight of all the ornaments in the box. The kids hung up their own, as Van and Y/N took the rest of the decorations. The lights and tinsel looked so nice against the evergreen tree that spiced up their living room.

“Thank you for today, babe.” Van spoke, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Van, I didn’t even do anything. You cut down the tree, you orchestrated the whole day, honey. I should be thanking you.”

“Thank me later when the kids are sleeping,” he whispered into her ear, earning a light slap on the arm and a wink from her before turning their attention back to the kids.

Day Six: Exchanging Gifts

It was their first Christmas. As friends. But more than friends, you know? Little glances stolen at inappropriate times, touches whenever they could. Friends don’t usually write love letters to each other, do they? They usually don’t have occasional kisses either. “I got you something.”

“Y/N, you didn't have to.” Van admitted sheepishly, his cheeks going red.

“I know, but I wanted to. You deserve to be appreciated sometimes, Ryan.”

“You know I don’t like being called Ryan.” He looked up at her, his fingers picking at the wrapping paper. Inside was a brand new, leather journal. Y/N had caught on during the school year that he spent his time during class writing something down on his homework sheets. “Y-You--”

“I noticed you writing all year. Well, half the year, I still can’t believe you actually dropped out. Do you like it?”

“Darlin’, I love it! Gonna write so many songs about you. I mean, your parties.” His cheeks blushed furiously, biting the inside of his lip to keep him from smiling. “I got you something too.”

He handed her a small box with a charm inside. It was a small alligator, knowing she wasn’t big on wearing them, but she collected anything having to do with them. “It’s the best gift ever, thank you, Ryan. I love you, and it, with all my heart.”

Day Seven: Secret Santa

Nothing was more nerve wracking to the group. Would everyone like their gifts? Of course Y/N wasn’t too worried about her gift, Bob would accept anything if it had some sort meaning to it. He was the epitome of kindness, really. Bob had gotten Benji, Benji got Larry, Larry was bestowed Bondy, Bondy drew Van’s name, and naturally, Van got Y/N.

It was a piece of cake. He could get her anything in the world and she’d love it. She was once given the world’s ugliest pair of socks, but she still wore them anyways because they kept her feet warm and they came from Benji. She even got a little Lego man from one of Van’s cousins. The smile that little one had was enough to convince Y/N she had to keep it. “Alright gang, let’s open these gifts.”

“Fuck yes, mate!” Van exclaimed as he ripped the wrapping paper to find three packs of cigs, a bottle of Scotch, and a walkman, as if he needed one. “Whoever got this for me, mate, you’re the fucking best.”

“I got a cute little sweater for my dog!” Benji smiled as he read the writing on it. ‘Dad’s good boy’ was what it read. Benji loved it, he almost cried. Bondy snickered as he had gotten a new hat to try out, Larry getting sick of seeing him in the same one all the time. Larry had gotten a new collar for his dog, who’d been needing one since she chewed hers to bits. “Y/N, you’ve gotta open yours!”

“Oh my God,” she held her hand over her mouth at the sight underneath the wrapping paper. It was a scrapbook of their recent tour, each date marked with a ticket stub and photos Bob had taken. Written in Van’s messy handwriting was a little note, which lead to a pocket in the scrapbook where a disk lay inside. “’To my sunshine - for always making me see the light in the dark, no matter how hard it is to see.’ Fuck, this is too sweet, I’m actually gonna cry.”

“Don’t cry, love, it’s meant to make ya happy, not sad,” Van spoke, his hand on her knee. She grabbed her hand in his, kissing the second knuckle on his. She wiped away her tears with the other one and kissed his cheek. “What was that for?”

“I know it was you, nobody else calls me sunshine.”

Day Eight: Last Minute Christmas Shopping

The stores weren’t as packed as they were during Black Friday shopping, for one. Two, it wasn’t the weekend before Christmas Eve (thankfully). Van pushed the shopping cart while Y/N grabbed everything and put it inside. Van offered to push her around, not wanting to tire her out too much. “Van, I’ll be fine, okay? I’ve been doing this for years, let me remind you.”

“I know, I just feel bad that we have to lie to the kids every year and pretend Santa comes.”

“That’s the - you know what, I agree. Next year will be a Santa-free Christmas. But I am not getting in that damn cart.” She smiled, putting in a toy firetruck Olli had been looking at for ages. He begged for it every time he saw it. It had gotten old enough to the point she’d make Van take him down a different aisle while she got other birthday presents for her nieces and nephews.

“Can we buy new curtains for our room, too? Amy fucking cut a hole in ours trying to make a dress for her Spider-Man action figure.” Y/N laughed, nodding as they rounded the corner, turning into a new aisle. They picked out a pair of navy blue ones, hoping that their children wouldn’t ruin these ones (even though they knew they would eventually). “Typical of her, I know. She’s the craziest kid.”

“Did you somehow forget our son, Oliver Adam McCann, who feeds the dogs little plastic toys so he can find them again in Lola’s shit?” Van cackled in the store, everyone’s head turning towards them as Van almost fell over.

“Is he really doing that?”

“You haven’t been watching him at all, have you? He’s been doing this for months! I yelled at him to stop, but our kids don’t listen very well.” Van wrapped his arms around her, kissing her lips, smiling as he did so. “Crazy kids, crazy parents.”

“They obviously don’t get that from me,” Van admitted, walking away fast before Y/N could slap his arm.

Day Nine: Hot Chocolate

Y/N sat in front of her window, watching the snow fall lightly from the sky. Her hands wrapped tightly around the mug of hot chocolate she held, her hands becoming warmer by the second. She missed Van. He was away on tour, but he wasn’t too terribly far. He was in Glasgow doing a few interviews and playing a few shows here and there. He wasn’t going to come home until ten days from now. Ten days was a long time.

The television played Law and Order: SVU on a constant loop, episode after episode. “You know, sweetheart, you really scare me when you watch those cop shows. You could kill me and no one would ever notice.”

“Van? What the fuck!” She didn’t care about the hot chocolate, she dropped the cup on the couch, running towards the door where Van stood with his suitcase next to him, a smile on his face. His arms wrapped around her waist as her legs wrapped around his. He was holding her again, and damn did it feel good. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, bug. Don’t like being gone more than I have to be.”

“I made hot chocolate, if you want some. I know you don’t like it, but you love me so you should drink some.” She laughed, Van putting her down on the ground. He wiped away her tears, pulling her in for another hug.

“I’d love some, but only after I get a kiss from my favorite girl,” Y/N smiled, standing on her tippy toes to kiss him. “Where’s Lola anyways? I’m kidding, babe! I wanna kiss you!”

“Maybe if you also fix me up a cup of hot coco while I clean up the one I spilled all over the couch because of you.”

“Right away, princess.” He kissed the tip of her nose, walking into the kitchen, pouring hot water into two glasses before adding the cocoa powder into both of them.

Day Ten: Christmas Programs

Amy was in the front row, her hands at her sides as her smile widened by the second. Van didn’t like being at school again. He felt a little self-conscious sitting with all the fancy parents. The ones who went to college, or at least had their high school degree. Y/N squeezed his hand, knowing how he was feeling. “I love you, honey. So does Amy.”

“I know, but I’m not smart like you two.”

“We don’t give a shit. We love you for who you are, and your amazing lyrics. You’ve always had a way with words, McCann.”

“‘S how I got you, babe.” Y/N nodded, leaning her head onto Van’s the music of the program starting. The kids started singing, incredibly off-key, Van had to contain a laugh from escaping his mouth. “‘M sorry love, just can’t believe how terrible they are. Hopefully Amy’s singing good. She’s got it in her blood, you know.”

“Babe, again, I know. She was in my uterus for ten months, trust me, I know her better than anyone.” Y/N whispered, earning a few odd looks from the other parents. She didn’t mind, she was proud of who they were. Thankfully, twenty minutes later, the music ended and the kids were allowed to go home with their parents. “Yeah, baby, we heard you over all the other kids! You were so good!”

“Daddy, are you proud of me? I’m a good singer like you!”

“I’m very proud, love. How about we go home and eat some treats Mumma made for us?”

Day Eleven: Blanket Forts

The day started off normal, as per usual, and then came one of Van’s insane ideas. “Hey babe, let’s turn the living room into a huge blanket fort!” And for some odd reason, she agreed to it. She knew it would overall be a terrible idea, but did she care? No she did not. She would do anything to his that loser smile because he was the essence of sunshine. “I hate you for making me do this.”

“Babe, this is the coolest thing ever! Bet our Little One loves it.” He smiled, rubbing your belly as the two of them laid on the couch, laptop set in front of them with a really terrible Christmas movie playing. “Babe, she’s kicking!”

“Van, I know, she’s inside of me.”

“I was inside of you once. Technically, a little bit of me still is,” he smirked, making her roll her eyes and laugh at him. Her fingertip dragged down the slope of his nose, skipping past his lips to play with the patch of chest hair he had. His eyes didn’t leave her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She smiled, her hand moving to cup Van’s cheek. She pressed her lips to his, his lips soft against her own. Van’s hand played with the skin on her hip, drawing random shapes until they started drumming along to a song playing in his head. “What song’re you thinkin’ about?”

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey; you’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away...”

Day Twelve: Family Christmas Parties - Y/N’s Family

Van was wide awake the whole car ride there, unlike Y/N, who’d fallen asleep after the first twenty minutes. Van was nervous. He had met her parents before, yes, but never as her actual boyfriend. His hands felt sweaty against the wheel as he pulled into her parent’s driveway. He parked behind all the other cars, shaking his love awake. “Darlin’, we’re here. Please don’t let your parents murder me.”

“Van, hush. They love you, and you know it. Expect for when I told them you ate the last slice of pizza. They understood and hated you until I forgave you.” Y/N laughed, kissing Van’s cheek as she linked her arm in his. They knocked on the door, Y/N’s father opening the door and greeting the pair with hugs. She squeezed his hand, letting him know he was going to be fine before disappearing to find her mother.

“How are you, Van?” Y/N’s dad asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“I’m doing good, how about you? The house looks amazing, Darren.” He compliment, internally wanting to die. He was so… awkward? Could he be awkward? Y/N thankfully came back before Darren could answer, handing Van a glass of wine. “Thank you, love.”

“Can I steal him away from you, dad?”

“Of course, bug. It was nice chatting with you, Van.”

“You too, Darren.” Van smiled, shaking his hand. He walked away, leaving Y/N and Van to themselves. She grabbed his hand, leading him away from the group of people. “Baby, what’re you doing?”

“Showing you something.” She grabbed Van’s glass of wine, putting it down on the bedside table next to hers. They were in Y/N’s old room. They’d moved in together after she turned nineteen. She pulled a cardboard box from underneath her bed, putting it in front of Van, who was sat on her bed. “All the letters you ever wrote me, and all the songs you gave me are in here. I want you to have them. I put other stuff in there, too.”

“Babe, I gave these to you for a reason.”

“Van, you don’t understand. I want you to just open the damn box.” She chuckled, pushing the box towards him. He looked up at her before opening the box. Inside lay a scrapbook, each page held a letter or song filled with love. Van’s eyes lit up, seeing old photographs in there as well. Captions on polaroids that would make some people very grossed out and uncomfortable. “See, I’m not just giving you them back. I’m giving it to you so you can add in my replies and anything else you want.”

“I love it so much, babe.” He got up to kiss her cheek, seeing a note that he had given her during English. It was silly, and contained information to one of his shows. She ended up going, making a spot for herself in the front row. He smiled the whole night, inviting her out for the remainder of the night, and the rest is history. “Thank you. I hope our kids see this someday.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” she smiled, pulling him in for a kiss.

Day Thirteen: Making Snowmen

Van’s mother, Mary, insisted on having the B&B decorated when their family came around. The tree was all dolled up, the house smelt of cinnamon and hot chocolate, candy canes hung from the trees outside. She left the two teenagers in charge of making a little snowmen family. The biggest of the two obviously being Mary and Bernie. “We’ve gotta make us now.”

“I’m not -” She started, readjusting her hat. Van cut her off, shaking his head.

“Yes you are. You always have been. Now, help me make me.” And for the next half an hour, they found the perfect materials to make the snowman into Van. It was fully equipped with a pen, a cigarette and a guitar made of sticks. Y/N laughed, realizing how much it truly resembled him. She grabbed Mary’s camera from inside, taking a picture of Van next to snowman Van. “Now we’ve gotta make you!”

“You two could be twins, if you had an uglier twin. She doesn’t look as beautiful as you,” he admitted, snapping a quick picture of her next to snowman Y/N. It had her hat, a selfless smile and Van’s jacket wrapped around the middle. Not to mention, Van and Y/N’s snowmen were holding sticks, which were supposed to be hands. “‘Cause we’re the bestest of friends, who occasionally like to hold hands and stuff.”

“You’re such a dork, McCann.”

Day Fourteen: Family Christmas Parties - Van’s Family

She’d always been a part of the family from the moment she walked in the door. Mary and Bernie could see how much Van loved and cared for her, even when he wouldn’t say it himself. Her laughter could be heard over Van’s which was unusual, nobody laughed or smiled nearly as often as he. “He’s like a ray of sunshine, Mary. Always happy about somethin’. You’ve raised such a good kid, I hope I’m as good a mother as you.”

“Dear, you’ll be just fine. It’s Van you’ve gotta watch out for. He’ll probably be what people would call a helicopter parent.” She laughed with Mary, her eyes pricking with tears at the true statement his mother had made. Van watched, from afar, the interaction between Mary and Y/N he was happy they could get along, peaceful conversation coming from the pair. Bernie also liked her, too. The McCann family loved her as if she were one of their own.

“Boy, you’ve gotta stop staring. She’ll get creeped out and leave you.” Bernie joked, his hand on his son’s shoulder. Van shook his head, looking up at his dad.

“Don’t think she’s gonna leave anytime soon, Da. I got her somethin’ really special for Christmas this year. And no, it’s not a signed picture of me like last year. I’ve learned my lesson.” Van laughed, his eyes trailing over to meet Y/N’s, shooting her a quick smile before walking over to her. He grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his lips. “I’m glad you’re here, Y/N. I really like you a lot.”

“I like you, too. I actually got you something.” She remembered, dragging him over to her book bag. She pulled out a picture frame, the two of them smiling for infinity as Larry took their picture. He remembered the day so vividly. In the corner was a small piece of paper, Van’s old phone number scribbled on it. “Had to frame your lousy attempt to ask me out. Couldn’t even read your damn handwriting.”

“Coming from the one with chicken scratch writing you call penmanship! At least people can plausibly read mine!” They laughed, his arms wrapping around her. “Thank you, though. I really fucking love it. I got you something, too.”

His hand reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small box. Inside was a bracelet that was engraved with his name. His full name, so she’d always be able to carry a piece of him around with her while he’s away. “Van, I love it.”

“I’m glad. I couldn’t just get you any simple thing. Want you to always think of me. Especially when I’ve gone away and I’ve left you with these fucks you call schoolmates.” Her lips pressed against his cheek, soft and sweet. He blushed and his fingertips grazed over where her lips touched. He was so in love with her.

Day Fifteen: Ice Skating

Watching Van struggle to stay up on the ice was more than fun. His legs wobbled and his arms were outstretched in front of him, steadying his balance. He was in a squatting position, his knees curving inwards a bit. Y/N had done this plenty of times, missing skating from when she was younger. It was like riding a bike to her. “Grab my hands, you twat!”

“Wow, someone’s sassy this morning. Have you any idea what’s coming up? You could get coal from Santa this year, Mister.” She teased, grabbing Van’s hands, helping him stand up straight. “C’mon, babe, you can do better than this.”

“I really fucking can’t, Y/N, you’ve known me for how long? Why do you think I avoid anything involving balancing?” He spoke, ignoring the fact that she called him babe. His cheeks were red, though, at the fact that he was, indeed, holding her hands. He skated - well, was pulled - around the rink, smiling as Y/N almost fell a few times. “And you say you can skate.”

“You do realize I haven’t skated since I was twelve, right? I’m going to be a little rusty, you fuckhead.” She laughed, letting go of his hands.

Day Sixteen: Candy Making

Van was a terrible candy maker, and an even worse assistant. Flour not only laid on the counters and floor, but also found a home in Y/N and Van’s hair and clothing. “Love, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t try to.”

“You’re so gonna pay for this McCann!” She yelled, throwing a handful of flour towards him. For fifteen minutes they had a flour fight, throwing chocolate chips at each other as well. “Okay, okay! I surrender!”

“Good, cause I’m really hungry, and the cookies in the oven are done.” Y/N laughed, pulling them out with an oven mitt. Van went to grab one, but she slapped his hand away. He looked so hurt by her not letting him have one - he looked like he could burst into tears at any moment.

“Only good boys deserve cookies.”

“I’m a good boy!” He pouted, sitting on the counter, the ass of his black jeans turning white. She looked at him before her eyes scanned the rest of the kitchen. “Baby, I will clean all of this up if you give me a cookie, I promise.”

“After you clean this kitchen up, you will get two cookies,” he smiled, silently congratulating himself. “And a nice warm shower with me.”

“Fuck the cookies, love, showering with you is sweeter than any candy.”

Day Seventeen: Sledding

It had snowed three days before Y/N decided to take the kids sledding. Van came with, bringing Bob and Benji, who also brought Dani. It was perfect. Y/N’d let the others watch her kids while she went down with Van, switching between him and their kids. Laughter could be heard from miles away and their smiles were as big as the sun. “Again, mommy! Again!”

“Baby, a few more times and then we have to go, we’ve been here for three hours.” Van spoke up, grabbing his daughter’s hand. He put her down on the sled in front of him, holding onto her waist Y/N gave them a little push. Van was absolutely tired, as well as the three other adults. Where do these little humans get all of their energy from?

“Alright, loves, who wants to go get some goodies?” Y/N asked, pointing to a little bakery on the corner. The kids shouted, grabbing Bob and Benji’s hands. Y/N linked her arm in Van’s after they returned the sleds to the man they rented them from. It was the perfect way to end a perfect afternoon. “Don’t eat them too fast, you’ll get a stomach ache! You too, McCann, I see you chowing down on those pastries.”

“Oi! I’ve earned these! I’ve spent my day sledding, cooking breakfast, and preparing our afternoon. Plus, I had to drive all the way across town before you three woke up and found out I left.”

“Why’d you do that?” Y/N asked, wiping a bit of chocolate from around Oliver’s mouth, putting her thumb in her mouth. Benji, Bob, and Dani exchanged looks before Bob pulled out his camera. He’d used it all afternoon to take pictures of us.

“‘Cause I figured it’d be a good time to do this,” he spoke, Y/N’s hands coming over her mouth. Her eyes became watery as soon as his knee touched the ground. Everyone around them looked over at the two, smiling as they cheered Van on. “You’re the mother of my children, and my best friend. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you by my side for all these years. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to propose, I should’ve done it years ago. But we’re both at a place in our lives where everything is going to plan… well, almost everything. I can’t believe you’ve stuck by me this long, honestly. Thought you would’ve left when I started touring.”

“I would never leave you. I could never.”

“That’s good. Really fucking good, ‘cause I want you to be in my life forever. Will you… marry me, Y/N?”

Day Eighteen: Cheesy Christmas Movies

“Why do you wanna watch this?” He asked, groaning as she picked a Christmas movie.

“‘Cause it’s almost Christmas time and we’re having our own Christmas, you Grinch!” She chuckled, slapping his arm lightly. They were in the living room, cuddled up on the couch. It wasn’t as cramped as they thought it would be with the tree in the living room as well, but it wasn’t the most private place they could’ve been. Van wished he had a television in his room, getting to spend his time watching movies with her tucked under his arm on his bed.

“You’re lucky you’re my best friend, Y/N Y/M/N.” He shook his head as the movie started. She scooted closer to him, if that was even possible. Her head laid on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his middle, her hand had snuck under his shirt and began to rub the skin around his hip bones. His arm was wrapped around her, his fingertips sliding over her back. He for sure thought he was going to go mad. He couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of her hands on his bare skin. He wondered what the rest of her skin felt like. Was it as soft as her hands? Would she allow him to find that out someday?

The possibilities were endless. She could fall asleep on him and end up staying on the couch or Van would eventually carry her up to his room. Or he could take her up there now, deciding it had already become too late. That would be stupid, considering it was only nine o’clock. Van focused on Y/N, her head now laid in his lap. “Are you falling asleep?”

“A little bit, yeah. Can we watch it again tomorrow? I’m really tired.” Her voice slurred, lulled with sleep. He nodded, kissing her forehead before he turned off the tv. He turned back around, her eyes were shut and figured she’d probably fallen asleep during the time he took to take the DVD out of the player and put it onto a shelf. He smiled at her, carrying her up to his bed. He was getting ready to leave when she spoke up. “Stay with me? Please?”

Day Nineteen: Fireplace Fires

“I hope you know we’ve started a fire. You don’t need three thousand blankets, love.” Van laughed, pulling a layer from her body. She protested, pulling it back over herself, making Van shake his head. They sat right in front of the fireplace, the heat from the fire instantly warming Y/N. She didn’t want Van’s ‘I told you so’ to ring from her ears, so she asked him to talk about something. Anything. “Don’t know what you want me to talk about, love. Really.”

“Anything, baby. You could even talk about how much you hate One Direction for all I care. I just wanna hear you talk.” It was the truth, and a good way to peel away the layers while Van was too distracted talking.

“I can tell you about the time I knew I was in love with you, if you’d like.” She nodded, her head finding its way onto his thigh. His left hand played with her hair while the other one kept him upright. He had probably told this story a hundred times before, it never getting old, feeling the same way as the first time he’d told it. She listened intently, her fingers drawing figure eights on his knee. The crackle of the fire made the story more alive somehow. She didn’t know why, but it just felt more real that way.

“You were goin’ fucking mental out there on the floor, just whippin’ your arms all about. Figured you’d be in my life for the rest of it. Knew I needed to keep you if you can dance as horribly as Bondy.” They both laughed, Van harder than Y/N. She attempted to out-dance Bondy, which she obviously won. It was a terrible dancing contest, and she just knew how to win. “You look really fucking pretty right now, and if it weren’t the three million blankets you’ve got on, I would totally have sex with you.”

“Better take them off then, yeah?” Van nodded, smiling into the kiss. It was sweet and soft, his lips pressed harder onto yours. He was quite serious when he offered, and she was quite serious when she agreed. Thank God the fire kept them warm.

Day Twenty: Cheesy Christmas Music

“How can you listen to this shit, babe?” He asked, already annoyed with the first three notes of the classic Mariah Carey song. “It actually gives me cancer, I can’t understand how you enjoy this.”

“Excuse you, Mariah Carey is a goddess.”

“She can barely sing! Lemme sing it instead.” He offered, turning down the music in the car. She told him to be her guest, letting him prove his Christmas song-singing ability. “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there’s just one thing I need. I don’t care about the presents, underneath the Christmas tree. I just need my girlfriend Y/N to have wonderful sex with me, maybe even throw in a blowjob or two in for free.”

“You’re such a twat, you know that?” She asked, turning onto their street.

“Hey, you said, and I quote, ‘be my guest’. So I sung! But I sang my version,” he winked at her, helping bring in the groceries. She just shook her head, not saying anything to her dorky, and tacky, boyfriend. “Did I do a good job?”

“Make a Christmas album next year, I’m sure fans would be thrilled to hear you sing that to them.” She laughed, putting produce in its appropriate places.

“So... about the sex and blowjobs for Christmas, I never heard a no?”

“Behave for the next couple of days, and we’ll see.” Vaguely coming from the kitchen, she heard Van whisper ‘yes!’ to himself. 

Day Twenty-One: Mistletoe

Benji threw legendary Christmas parties. Everyone was drinking, having a good time. Maybe in another life, Van would walk into his with Y/N tucked underneath his arm, making out with her underneath the mistletoe. But that wasn’t this life. He was nauseous at the thought of kissing her. Not because he didn’t like her, he certainly fucking did, he was just so nervous. Would he be terrible at it? Would she hate the taste of booze and cigarettes?

“Van, glad you could make it! Y/N’s in the kitchen,” Benji spoke as he greeted Van. “Are you actually gonna kiss her this year, or chicken out like you do every chance you get?”

“Fuck you, Benji, I’m gonna kiss her. And I’m gonna do it under the mistletoe, just you watch.” He replied, laughing while saying the first bit. He walked into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Y/N from behind. She turned around, hugging him back. “Hello, love. Benji said you’d be in ‘ere.”

“Benny’s just looking out for me. Wants you to babysit me tonight, but I told him I’m not getting drunk this year. I wanna remember everything this time,” she laughed, pulling away from Van. He nodded, listening intently to every word she said. “You got any other plans for tonight?”

“Uh,” here it was. He had to tell her he liked her now, or he’d never get the chance for another two years. “Was planning on kissin’ you under the mistletoe, actually.”

“Oh really?” She asked, biting back a smile. He nodded again, licking his lips. He pulled her over to the door frame of the kitchen, where the mistletoe hung from. “What makes you so sure I’m gonna kiss back?”

“Well, I’m not sure you’re going to. I’m doing this ‘cause I’ve liked you for the past two years and I’m pretty damn tired of you kissin’ on other people.” He smashed his lips onto hers, her face in his hands. She kissed him back, her hands pulling on his hips, bringing his body closer.

Day Twenty-Two: Making Cookies for Santa

Nobody ever said making cookies for Santa was a good idea. Maybe they did, but they didn’t truly understand the force of Van and Y/N’s children. But everyday until the twenty fourth, two cookies at a time would disappear from the plate. Y/N knew her kids were taking him, but she never expected Van to. “Babe those are for Santa!” She whisper shouted, not wanting to wake her kids.

“Sweetheart, I’m technically Santa Claus, here, have one.” She didn’t take the cookie he offered her, his smile faltering. “I’ll have the kids help me make more tomorrow.”

“You better. And make them banana cookies, Santa and Mrs. Claus love banana things.” Y/N shot a wink towards Van, walking upstairs into their bedroom, hearing Van come in two minutes after her. They fell asleep almost instantly when their heads hit their pillows.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to a disaster in the kitchen. Banana peels were everywhere, making Y/N laugh to herself. She was happy Van took her advice, looking from Amy, who was making little balls of the cookie dough, and Olli, who was going to eventually get a stomach ache from eating it. “Oliver Adam, seriously, what did I say? Stop eating it, and save it for the cookies. Mumma’s gonna be angry when she finds out why you’re sick.”

“Not entirely angry, but there will be no cookie-eating in your future if you keep it up, Little Man.” She gave him the mom glare, making him stop eating the cookie dough from the bowl. She smiled at her kids before giving Van a quick kiss on the lips. 

“Made you tea, love, it’s waiting in the microwave for ya.”

Day Twenty-Three: Gingerbread Houses

It wasn’t as easy as it looked. Frosting was everywhere but the houses, which wasn’t the fucking plan. Y/N was a little upset, frosting somehow ending up in Amy and her’s hair. Van was frosting free, his afternoon was being spent in the studio wrapping it up on album number four. She called him, his voice echoing throughout the kitchen. “’Ello? What’s up, sugar?”

“Yeah, babe, can you pick up some baby wipes on your way back, and some frosting, please?”

“May I ask why?”

“Your daughter and I have been covered in frosting, and we’re out of wipes.” She admitted, huffing as she tried to run her fingers through her hair. Y/N was entirely unsuccessful. “Please hurry, babe. I wanna finish these up so I can get us in the bath.”

Van was back in twenty minutes, two tubs of frosting and two packages of baby wipes in a plastic bag. He handed you the frosting, beginning to clean off his baby girl. “For a two year old, you’re very smart, putting frosting where it shouldn’t be. Look at mumma, she’s putting the frosting ON the houses, not IN her hair.”

“Daddy, you’re silly.” She giggled, clapping her frosting covered hands together. 

“Love, you wanna finish the houses while I start a bath for this one?” Y/N nodded, rushing to get the two of them done. It took her fifteen minutes to finish them, and by that time Amy was already in different clothes, laying down for a nap. “Bath’s open. Made it warmer and filled it with new water and everythin’. Can I join you?”

“Only if you wash my hair.”

Day Twenty-Four: Twas the Night Before Christmas

“Oliver, you’ve gotta brush ya teeth, otherwise Santa’s gonna give you coal. All of your presents will go to a boy who behaves well.”

“No! I want them, Daddy!”

“Brush ya teeth, then. Do you need mom or I to help?” Oliver nodded, dragging his father by the hand into the bathroom. Y/N helped Amy lineup her stuffed animals against the wall, setting the most important one closest to her daughter’s head. Y/N opened up the blanket to her daughter, who’d already brushed, flossed and got into her pajamas.

“Is it okay if Olli sleeps in here tonight? That way he wakes you up first and not us,” Y/N chuckled, kissing her daughter’s forehead. She smiled, pulling the blanket up to her chin. “I love you, Ames. You sleep good okay? Mommy’ll be sleeping when you wake up, but you and Olli better come wake Daddy and I up before you start openin’ gifts, alright?”

“Okay, Mommy. Can Daddy read to us when he’s done helping Olli?” Y/N nodded, smiling at her baby girl before waiting for Van to finish in the bathroom. Christmas was one of the best times of the year. Van got Oliver all tucked in, turning on Amy’s nightlight before beginning to read their favorite Christmas story. Y/N sat next to him, her head laying on Van’s lap.

“‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…”

Day Twenty-Five: Opening Gifts

Y/N underestimated the force of her children’s voices. Especially on Christmas. Van didn’t even move a muscle, used to hearing people screaming in his ear for two minutes straight. Y/N pushed him out of bed, making him follow behind her and the kids. While Van sat half asleep on the couch, Y/N grabbed a garbage bag for all of the wrapping paper. “Mommy look what I got!”

“I see that Olli, you’ve wanted that since forever!” Y/N said, watching Olli open up the firetruck. Amy got a few more action figures, a coloring book, and a little art set. Olli got his firetruck, a few packages of those little green army men, and a drum set that Bondy demanded they give to him. “I don’t think Santa forgot about Daddy.”

“I’m happy he didn’t.” Van smiled, opening his gift. It was a picture frame with three sonogram pictures inside. He looked up at Y/N, his eyes teary. She nodded, smiling back at him. He wrapped his arms around her, picking her up. He set her down carefully, sinking down to the floor. His head rested on her stomach, kissing it lightly. “Santa brought you something, too.”

“No fucking way,” she gasped, opening the velvet, navy box. Inside was a golden necklace, set onto white silk. It glowed in the light, her eyes already teary from Van opening his gift. It was his necklace, and he wanted her to have it. She began to cry, and not the pretty cry either. Full on ugly cry, sobs included. “Baby, I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re the mother of my children, and I’ve wanted to spend my life with you since I met you behind the bleachers during Phy Ed. I knew I was going to give it to you someday. I should’ve given it to you sooner, though.” He admitted, fastening it around your neck.

“No, right now is perfect. You’re perfect.”

[ariannawrightr]

Nowhere to Return (Part 1 of 2)

Authors note: Just a supernatural fic I wrote awhile ago that I thought I'd post here. Hope you enjoy!

The chilling wind cut through his clothes like knives. Blood and sweat soaked through what was left of his shirt, making his muscles clench and ache as he continues to run through the seemingly never ending forest. He stumbles over a tree branch, struggling to regain his footing as he picks up sprinting again, scared to slow his pace and risk hypothermia. The freezing December weather leaves his bones stiff, almost creaking with the effort to continue moving. He wonders--not for the first time--why he had been so stubborn to leave without his winter jacket. He rubs his arms with an effort to keep the blood moving, afraid of the damage to come from his unresponsive fingers.

" You're taking another case?"

 

"Yeah, I found something down in Minnesota, think it might be our kind of job."

 

"Are you serious? We just wrapped one up. One--mind you--that you nearly died on!"

 

"What's the problem? We find cases and we work them. Since when has a job ever gone our way? I think your starting to get paranoid, it was barely a scratch."

 

"A scratch!? Dean--for fucks sake--that 'scratch' just barely missed cutting straight through your liver. You're still bleeding!"

 

"I'm fine, I've wrapped it up already. Seriously, you're overreacting, I'll have plenty of time to rest up on the drive there. Are you coming?"

 

"No, I'm not. Cause unlike you, I actually care if I live to make it to tomorrow."

 

"You're so dramatic. You really need to learn to relax."

 

"Right, cause I'm the one having trouble taking a break."

 

"Whatever, I'm heading out. It's a ways out, so I probably won't be back for about a week."

 

"Yeah, if you don't bleed out on the way there."

 

"Don't get your panties in a twist Samantha, it's just a basic salt and burn. And I'm not bleeding out, that thing barely grazed me. I've definitely had much worse."

 

"Whatever you say...Hey Dean?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I know things didn't--I mean--but you don't need to--"

 

"Sam"

 

"I'm just trying to say--you're always taking life so fast, sometimes you just need to slow down a little."

Grabbing onto an extended branch, he comes to an abrupt stop, cursing as he nearly ran straight into the rapid water in front of him. Now taking a moment to assess, he can hear the obvious blaring voice of the raging stream; splashing fiercely as it comes in contact with a particularly jagged rock visible above the surface. Right where his distorted head displays in his reflection.

 

"Shit", His throat is rough, making his voice come out as a strained whisper, instantly evaporating in the ever present whistling of the wind.

 

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

 

"What's your problem?"

 

"You! You're my problem!"

 

"You have such a way with words. Poetic, really."

 

"Stow your shit! I've seriously had it with you and your suicidal tendencies--"

 

"--I don't have--"

 

"--Continuing to get in the way of the hunt! I get that you're--"

 

"Don't."

 

"Dean!"

 

"I'm not talking about this with you. Not now."

 

"Then when, Dean! Because im not always going to be there to save you when you decide it's not worth the effort to avoid getting shot, or stabbed, or--"

 

"Hey! Easy there, I'm going to be fine."

 

"I'm serious, Dean, you almost died!"

 

"So am I. I'm not going to die, I promise you that. Who else would be there to look after your stupid ass."

 

"Dean--"

 

"I promise I'll be more careful, okay?"

 

"You better, I can't lose anyone else Dean, not after--not after we finally got it all back."

 

After I got you back

 

"I know Sammy, I'm sorry."

 

I'm sorry I'm not the same person you thought I was. I'm sorry I'm not as strong as I should be.

 

"Come on, we better get out of here. You're definitely going to need stitches, and I'll need to look at your head, make sure you're not concussed, and I need to treat--"

 

"Yeah, I got it mom."

 

"You're such a jerk."

 

"Bitch."

He hastily pushes his thoughts aside as he turns and resumes his pace through the trees.

 

Or, he attempts to.

 

His abrupt movement only causing his muscles to tense up and spasm in protest, making him lose his balance. He twists his body to try and angle himself to relieve the oncoming damage to his chest wounds. Although, the prompt twist of his leg only leads to him tripping over is feet, landing flat on his face in the snow.

 

In an instant, the cold recedes, leaving only a blinding heat to course through his blood. As if a fire had been lit inside his intestines, burning him from the inside, while his body freezes, consumed by the frigid wrath of the winter weather. He screams, although the sound is swallowed up by the furious wind storm. His vision swims as he struggles to control his breathing to a regular rate.

 

"Sit."

 

"What?"

 

"Were talking about this. Right now."

 

"Talking about what?"

 

"You know what."

 

"Listen, as much as I'd love to play twenty questions with you, I just got back from a hunt. I drove all night, and I'm exhausted--"

 

"You broke our promise."

 

"What? Sam, listen, I've been driving for ten hours and--"

 

"You promised me that you were going to start looking out for yourself, start prioritizing your own well being. You told me you would stop making impulsive, reckless decisions that could get yourself killed."

 

"Yeah, and I have been. Do I look dead to you?"

 

"How'd the hunt go?"

 

"Really, are we seriously going to talk about this now? Can't this wait till later, when I'm--"

 

"No, were doing this now. How was the hunt, Dean?"

 

"It went fine, if you really need to know. Jody helped me track the nest of vamps, had it taken care of in two hours flat. That's it, not much to it."

 

"Two hours to take out a whole nest? There must have been what? Ten? Twenty vampires congregating in the one spot?"

 

"There were eight. It was just a small nest, most of them were pretty young. None of them were ready to fight, especially against a hunter. Nothing I couldn't handle."

 

"Right, but to take on that many at once, on your own? There's no way you could storm in and take them out. You would need to spend a couple days stalking out the place, figuring out their schedules, to try and subdue as many individuals as you can before you take out the nest."

 

"Yeah, well, I knew I could handle it. It was an easy fight, most of them were too scared to fight back."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yes."

 

"A group of vampires let you storm their nest, and didn't raise a single finger to fight as you slaughtered them all?"

 

"Sam--"

 

"Jody called me."

"Did she?"

 

"Yeah, she had a slightly different story of what happened."

 

"What--"

 

"She told me how the minute you found the nest you didn't spend any time scoping it out. She told me all you grabbed was your machete and stormed in, antagonizing them to fight you."

 

"Well, I'm nothing if not bold."

 

"Jody also told me that after taking out a couple of them, they had you pinned down, ready to kill you. That if she hadn't stepped in you would have been killed on the spot!"

 

"That's really all just semantics--"

 

"Dean! Listen to yourself for one second!"

 

"Look, I got the job done. Plain and simple. Dont try and make this into a big deal."

 

"Dean--"

 

"It's done. I'm going to bed."

"What if I had done that?"

 

"What did you say?"

 

"What if I stormed a nest alone, and barely managed to come out alive? If I was continuously jumping into hunt after hunt, without taking a moment to breathe in between? If I was constantly having a brush with death? Wouldn't you care?!"

 

"Of course I would!"

 

"Then why are you acting like it's insane that I actually give a crap!"

 

"Because--Because this is different."

 

"How could this possibly be any different?!"

 

Because you're more important! Because you're the smart one! The one who should be protected from all the bullshit this world has to offer! Because I'm already gone. There's nothing left to be saved!

 

"Because, it just is."

 

"Dean, we need to talk about this. Please, if not for me, then do this for yourself."

 

"Sam, I already told you--"

 

"--That you can't talk about it now? Well, guess what? Now seems to be all we've got! Cause every time you go out on a hunt I'm always left wondering if that's the last time I'll ever see you!"

 

"I'm not going to die."

 

"Why can't you just talk to me? This is obviously hurting you if your letting it seep into the hunts. Dean, I've tried giving you space, but obviously this isn't something you can do on your own, so you need to let me in."

 

"I was right, you don't need a fancy Harvard diploma to become a great lawyer. You really have a natural talent for arguing and prying where it should be left alone."

 

"Dean--"

 

"What, Sam? What do you want me to say? You want me to say that I'm an idiot? That I made a mistake? That I'll handle it better next time?"

 

"I want you to be honest with me! For once, I don't want a sarcastic reply, or you deflecting. I want you to be real with me for once!"

 

"You want me to be honest?"

 

"Yes!"

 

"Fine. Why dont I start by telling you what a fuck up I've become!"

 

"What--"

 

"You want me to be honest, the reason I keep jumping into hunt after hunt? It's because it's the only time I can feel like I'm doing something with my life, helping people. Not just sitting around disappointing you--and Cas! It's the only time I can feel anything real! That I can still do something other than hurt and let down the people who rely on me! And I know, that's all I seem to be able to do lately, and that you can't stand to even be around me anymore. That it would be better for everyone if I wasn't here anymore--"

 

"Hold on--"

 

"All I seem to be doing is putting you in danger--and--I hate myself for it--I hate that you have to see this--and I--I cant--I need to feel somethi-ng--and I know t-his is what I des-erve afte-r--"

 

"Breathe Dean!"

 

"I-I-I ca-nt--im so so--rry--I cant ev--en--"

 

"Hey, Dean, it's okay. You're okay, you have nothing to be sorry for. I just need you to focus on breathing right now."

 

"I-I--can-t--"

 

"You can, I know you can. Were going to do this together, okay? You can do this, just breathe with me."

 

"O--kay."

 

"Alright, your going to breathe in through your nose and hold it for three seconds. Then were going to exhale for five seconds. Okay, breathe with me. In. One. Two. Three.

 

"And out. Two. Three. Four. Five.

 

"You're doing great, Dee. One more time for me, okay? In--"

One

 

Two

 

Three

[durm-ff]

Blue vs. Yellow

Yeheeees, I finally got to finish this one shot from august smh. i first thought hm can i actually write this but then it turned out to be fun! i hope anon likes/still remembers it :). i might write something this weekend again, but turns out i need to be on a2 italian in two weeks when right now i know two phrases. great. so for everyone who is waiting, just bear with me, im so sorry.

Ah, derbies. The most passive savage/active savage every player gets on the field. The sweet smell of revenge/victory/fight/blood. That look you give your opponents when you’re standing in line for walking onto the pitch. Or that slightly more agressive look you give them when the referee does something that didn’t live up to your expectations.

There was a stronger sense of belonging every time I had to face the women’s team of Borussia Dortmund. The ugly black and yellow kits versus our sophisticated royal blue and white outfits. Our history of loyalty versus the accepted reputation of traitors in their club. Alright, I know that was petty, but come on. It was an obvious feature.

Technically, there was not more at stake at a derby game. The winner still got three points, the loser zero, and a tie meant 1 point. But looking past that, it was about your reputation. Your relationship to your fans, to your town. Born and raised in Gelsenkirchen, I felt like it was my duty and also kind of destiny to protect our reputation and show my loyalty to the club and the fans. It sounds almost patriotic, but really, that was what a derby was all about. Showing off.

The annoying thing is that when you love someone, you set all this aside and try to focus on their happiness. Such a mood killer, this love thing. But leaving my comptetitiveness behind, my only weak spot beside Apfelmus was Marco. I don’t know how I managed to look past the fact that 99% of the time he wore clothes that made him look like a bumblebee (and I hate to admit that he was the only person that for my taste even looked good in it), and had a mascot that was a freaking bumblebee how adorable, I did look past that, and now sat in one of the booths in the Signal Iduna Stadion, wearing a yellow jersey.

I was in the mood of throwing up.

But I was brave, and I didn’t. I even cheered for them and, even though I was heartbroken when Schalke conceded a goal, and had to see poor Benni scream into the void, I was happy that Marco assisted. I knew how much it meant for him. Being in and out of injuries, this game meant so much more to him, anyway. So I swallowed my pride (which was so not easy by the way), and accepted the fact, that if, in the end Dortmund does manage to win, with players like Götze, the comeback kid, and Bartra the definition of a fuckboy, whatever, I could still defend last years derby winner title with my own team.

-

‘Great day, wasn’t it, babe?’– I gave a quick kiss to Marco as he was brushing his teeth in front of the mirror. ‘Ah-uh-hm-huh’ – he said with a smug look, which roughly meant ‘Thank you, darling’ which, in turn meant, ‘We beat yo ass’. I rolled my eyes but then ignored it and got ready for bed myself.

There was something, though, that kept ringing in my ear. I knew it was stupid and probably nothing, but I couldn’t help but feel bothered by it. The women’s derby was exactly a week away and the guys couldn’t help themselves but make comments about it after their game. ‘By the way, what did Marcel meant by “keep on the right jersey” in the locker rooms?’ – I mean, I kinda knew it myself, but I didn’t feel like it should have been said when I was there, Marcel knowing me, and saying this after the derby.

Marco spit out the toothpaste and said ‘Nothing’. After drying his face, he continued – ‘we were just messing around, and I told them I think I’ll support Dortmund this time during the women’s derby.’ And just like that, he walked out of the room.

‘I’m sorry, what?’ – I followed him into the bedroom, where he was already getting comfortable. ‘Yeah, it’s not a big deal’ – he shrugged. I climbed into bed as well and turned my furious face towards him. ‘What do you mean it’s not a big deal?’ ‘I mean, what’s the fuss about?’

‘Excuse me?’ – I could still not comprehend what I was hearing. ‘So it didn’t matter that I basically gave up my dignity today to support you, but it’s okay to neglect that when I’m playing?’ – I crossed my arms on my chest and impatianetly waited for his answer. He finally looked at me and said ‘No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just’ – he tried to explain it to me, but it didn’t really make sense, honestly. With crossed arms still, I urged him to go on. ‘It’s not always necessary to go full out, is it?’

‘What?! Honestly, to me it sounds like you don’t care about women’s football at all. Why support your girlfriend at the most important derby, when it’s just women’s football?’

‘No, it’s-‘ ‘Yes, that’s it.’ – with that, I turned the lights off and turned to my side. Even though both of us knew that neither of us could sleep at the moment, I just couldn’t bear one more second of this conversation, so I did the only thing that could end it. The light.

-

Derbies were always fun, aggressive, honourable. Standing on the pitch in a blue jersey, waiting for the referee to finally blow her wistle and see the ball kicked made my blood pump faster. But that wasn’t the only thing working me up on the inside. Since that ‘conversation’ last weekend, my disgust towards yellow jerseys grew and that made my blood boil even harder. A good motivator for the derby, I guess.

Perfect timing. The rage should have motivated me by making me also kind of numb and help me not to look to the side and see that one head with perfectly gelled hair.

I heard the whistle blow and then everything stopped existing outside the pitch. My focus was on the ball and on my teammates’ position. Nothing could distract me.

A second later, the focus of only on my own familiar environment turned its back on me as I felt a kick in my back and my face hit the ground. Before the pain could kick in and before I could realize the blow of the whistle was not only the start of the game but also the end of it for me, I blacked out.

-

‘She’s waking up.’ – I faintly heard someone next to me as I moved my eyelids. I tried to feel my hands and move my toes but I couldn’t feel anything and it scared me. I began breathing heavily and opened my eyes.

Suddenly I was blinded by light and I needed a few seconds to adjust to it, and when my eyes finally did what I wanted them to do, I saw Marco. I looked down and he was holding my hand, but I couldn’t feel his fingers on mine. I panicked again.

‘Calm down. Shh. No movement.’ – he stroked my cheek.

‘Why can’t I feel anything?’ – I whispered. ‘You’re on painkillers. They disable you from feeling your limbs, so that you also don’t try to move them.’ ‘Why, what happened?’ – I asked him and it was only when he looked over the bed that I saw the doctor. ‘Your spine got kicked. The ball was landing behind you and unfortunately the opponent miscalculated her kick and kicked your spine. You were not paralyzed by it, but you are now by medication so that your spine rests and your limbs don’t hinder it from recovering.’ – he explained.

I let it sink in and I thought of all the months I’ll have to miss practice, the pitch, training, and I had a lot of questions to ask, but the first thing I wanted an answer to is why Marco was wearing a royal blue jersey.

‘Why are you wearing this hidious thing?’ – I asked with a sore voice and by the way he was smiling, I could tell he gets my sarcasm. ‘I was on my way to the stadium, even though we didn’t talk much last week, but after you left for the match I just realized I didn’t want to miss it.’ – he shrugged.

‘So what about your reputation and the others? And by others I mean Marcel, for example.’ ‘The others don’t matter.’ – he said without hesitation and I knew this was his way of saying sorry. He took a deep breath. ‘I just want you to be okay. And by the way, fuck derbies. Am I right?’ – he exclaimed.

I just smiled because I didn’t know how to answer that, but really all that mattered was that he was there and got over his pride, even though we are two of the most proudest people on earth. With the doctor still by my side I knew I could ask anything anytime, but I needed this moment to be about us, so with my gaze still on Marco and my mind still about the derby, I asked ‘So did we beat your ass?’

The last thing I saw before my sight got blurred again and I heard the words ‘she needs to rest again’, was Marco’s smile and while my career hit its bottom, my life seemed to fall back into place.