#makes him seem over emotional and weak. and even worse in his rockstar days it made him become

[riseninsaturn]

this is a very specific klavier headcanon but something that i think about a lot is the fact that he’s (1) melodramatic and (2) emotionally repressed. he has the kind of emotional repression where he’s very open about minor inconveniences, slightly out of touch but ultimately palatable concerns, but when it comes to deeply entrenched feelings he keeps those buried inside. however he’s still generally viewed as dramatic and yes in some regards he is. 

but i do also mingle this with how kristoph talks to him in succession (which as we know, i never stop thinking about) and how kristoph spoke about klavier as if klavier was incompetent or hysterical. this is really our strongest hints into the kind of dynamic these two have held across their lives, imo.

i think that klavier may, especially after his brother’s second trial, develop a tendency to label any of his emotionally vulnerable moments as being a certain kind of “episode” or “oversharing” experience. as in, if he just surface-level talks to someone about the trauma he’s sustained from the trial, he will later refer to that as being a mood kill. any time he recognizes his own grief is some kind of episode. i don’t really know how to cleanly articulate all this, just... him subtly labeling the expressions of his own emotions as being dramatic or out of control because he has been taught to view himself as crazy and “too much”.

this all really feeds into my personality disorder klavier propaganda in at least a couple of ways but i do just think about this a lot. sorry for the confusing phrasing i don’t really know how to explain it, i’ve just noticed in some fics i really adore that people characterize him this way and it never clicked exactly Why i found those comments by him so intriguing until i considered the common thread, which is just... him downplaying his real emotions, him overplaying the superficial ones.

[you-andthebottlemen]

49 - Requests - fighting with Van, making up, cute date fluff.

Hi everyone!! So, recently I received the first requests I’ve gotten since I announced I was no longer taking any. And after thinking about, I decided to try my hand at writing them. After being pretty absent so long, I am unsure how good the writing is but I enjoyed getting back into it. The last few fics I have posted randomly have been originals. Anyway. Here is a fic based on the first two requests below which are the recent ones and then the third request which has sat in my inbox for well over a year. I am really sorry to whoever requested this and the other requests that still sit in my inbox since I said I was no longer answering them... But thank you for your support and compliments, it really means a lot to me and encourages me to keep trying. I hope you enjoy this, especially those who requested! Please send me any feedback, it’d be so helpful haha. Love youuuuu. E x. 

I love this page so much!! Could you please do an angst fix where you’re on tour with the lads and you and van argue backstage and he’s getting angry but sees you cry for the first time and you make up lots of fluff please! Xx

&

Hey I love your fanfics and imagines!! Could you do one based on where you and van get into an argument but then obviously make up afterwards. I just need some real cute fluff. Thank you!!! ❤

&

could you do something where the reader is into astronomy/stargazing, and she and van go out on a stargazing sort of date? i'm picturing lots of blankets and hot chocolate out far from the city.. p.s. you are an amazing writer ❤

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

The road was bumpy, and you could feel your lunch from earlier that day, a gas station hot dog, swirling unpleasantly in the pit of your stomach. On top of this, you felt pretty down. Regardless, you stared out the window at the bleak countryside as if you were fine. Drops of rain began falling from the grey sky around you and landed in spats on the glass as if they were the tears you wouldn’t let fall. If you were a character in a novel, this would be called ‘pathetic fallacy’ - a literary device for when your emotions were attributed to the nature surrounding you. You were a couple of weeks into the tour by now and it wasn’t all Van had cracked it up to be.

The shows were incredible, yeah. But apart from that, there was a hell of a lot of chaos, a lack of proper hygiene, not to mention the lack of nutritious food, and you were incredibly homesick. Van always dreamed big; it was one of your favourite things about him. But in this instance, his idealisation of the rockstar life style was starting to put a crack in your relationship. You were growing tired of his show pony attitude whenever he did an interview. You were tired of his flirtations with other women, however harmless, and once charming, they were. You were tired of being called ‘Van’s Girlfriend’, rather than your name, y/n. You missed having your own space and privacy. It was getting overwhelming being in Van and the other boys faces all the time; everyone was getting antsy. You were sick of touring, plain and simple. The stressed it put you through caused you to take it out on Van and that only made things worse.

You’d first met Van while he was on his last tour a few months ago. It had made sense at the time, in the weeks leading up to this one, for you to join him rather than spend the weeks alone. You were a bartender at a small place they’d stopped to celebrate after a show once and from the second Van laid eyes on you, he was determined to make you his. And he did, easily. He was so loveable. It was kind of ridiculous how easy it was to love him, flaws and all. Though the cracks were starting to appear. Small ones but cracks, nonetheless. Everything was different. Your routines were now non-existent. You felt isolated and at the same time completely suffocated. It was not a good environment for your mental health. You couldn’t help but harbour some resentment towards Van for letting things get this way between you and him. For being so swept up in himself, the band and the fans. It was overwhelming and you had no escape. The only times you had peace and quiet was if you decided to stay alone on the bus during a show or sound check. Though at the same time you could hardly blame him at all because you knew how he loved it and what it meant to him. None of this was his fault, really. 

“You alright y/n?” Larry asked, sliding into the seat opposite you and placing your mug, freshly filled with tea, on the table between you. 

Van was asleep out the back of the bus. 

“Thank you. Yeah, I’m good. Regretting that hot dog though,” you joked, trying to hide your sour mood. 

“I think we all are,” Larry laughed, adjusting his bandana. 

The stench of the small bus toilet was proof enough. You felt queasy just thinking about it. You gazed back out the window and sighed softly. Only 3 more weeks. 

................

When Van wasn’t preoccupied with press or whatever, he was often busy making plans and doing things for the second album. You just left him to it. You didn’t want him to think you were getting in the way. Though you were desperate for some down time with him away from the bus or a venue. A date. Something. Something that wasn’t just falling asleep together, eating cold baked beans for breakfast with the band or getting drunk after a show. While at the start tour was all a bit dreamlike and still had its charm, now you yearned for normality. You missed your friends too; facetime wasn’t doing it for you anymore. You ached a bit for Van, realising this was how tour must make him feel too when he has to leave people behind. It was more difficult than it seemed and you weren’t even the one performing every night.

“Sold out tonight, babe!” Van exclaimed with a grin as he stepped through the small door from the middle section of the bus and sat on the lounge beside you. 

You put your book down. You could tell he was excited; his eyes were glistening madly and his voice was all high and squeaky. His hair was a mess so you ran a hand through it to straighten things out a little. He really did make your heart weak. 

“That’s great,” you smiled back. 

You wanted desperately to be as happy as he was. You were really, but it was clouded with other emotions that weighed you down too much to let the good stuff come to the surface. You traced his face with your eyes. His smile was so wide he almost had dimples and you could make out those strange little red marks that appeared on his cheeks sometimes. You let out a breath.

“Reckon after this second album we’ll be well on our way to arenas!”

You hoped he’d never lose his boyish optimism.

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning your body against his warm shoulder slowly. “Hot tub for your ma.”

You now rested your head on his shoulder, wanting to be close to him. His worn leather jacket smelt of smoke, but you didn’t mind. You looked up at him with tired eyes.

“You know it.” He grinned, showing his crooked teeth in all their glory and then kissed you on the hairline.

“I’m off for a smoke then got an interview at 3, do you wanna come?”

“To the interview?” you asked, lifting your head. 

“Yeah.”

“No it’s okay. I’ve seen you do them before,” you replied bluntly.

You regretted your tone instantly. You could almost feel Van’s face fall and his body language stiffen. He was confused at your sudden change of mood and the air between you became tense.

“Oh… well just thought we could spend some time together.”

This made you want to scoff. Time together?

“You, me, the band, the interviewer and the camera man isn’t exactly spending quality time alone together is it...” you replied, covering your sarcasm with a jokey tone and raised eyebrow, trying to come off a little more light hearted than you felt. 

You sat up to face Van properly and teased him with a lopsided, toothless smile. 

“No, you’re right love. We’ll go on a proper date. You and me. Dinner out before the show?”

“No beans on toast?”

“No beans on toast.”

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled. 

Your heart filled with a warmth you’d been missing and you leaned in for a quick kiss, closing your eyes. You and Van stayed together with your faces close for a few seconds, foreheads resting together, before he got up without a word and left once again. This felt good. Normal.

You sighed. At least you had that to look forward to. 

..............

While Van was at his interview, you used all the facilities that the bus and the public bathrooms at the venue had to offer in attempt to get ready for your date with Van. It had been so long since you’d pampered yourself in any way or gotten especially dressed up. When Van told you about touring, you knew it wouldn’t be glamorous, but you’d expected to be getting dressed in nice clothes a lot more often than you ever did. It was definitely ‘boy’ territory and you were the odd one out.

As you got ready, you thought how you’d probably not event spent an intimate moment with Van all tour without either everyone knowing and clearing the bus or accidentally walking in on it. You were well and truly over the teasing winks or the awkward smiles from band and crew alike. Yet another reason you yearned for the privacy of your own home. 

You managed to shave your legs in the tiny cubicle shower on the bus, painted your nails and styled your hair. You put on the one dress you’d packed and some slightly nicer shoes than your muddy black boots. Once you were satisfied with how you looked, you sprayed perfume and relished in the feeling of being decently clean and presentable for the first time in a while. 

You were sat reading your book in the lounge out the back of the bus (that had become yours and Van’s bedroom) when he burst through the door. 

“Wow, y/n...” he breathed, sounding slightly taken aback, “you look incredible.”

You couldn’t help but blush a little as you stood up.  

“Ready to go?”

Van looked at the floor and ran a hand through his hair nervously. You swallowed.

“Uh... about that y/n... I was just coming in to tell you that...”

Your heart sank like a stone in water. 

“This label guy is coming to the show and wants to talk beforehand and-”

He took a step towards to you and you put a hand on his chest to stop him coming any closer.

“It’s fine,” you smiled, showing teeth. “I understand. Go.”

Your voice came out higher pitched and breathier than usual. You were pissed off and didn’t want him to know. You ushered him away with shoeing hand gestures and a tight, forced smile.

“I’m sorry y/n.”

“Just go. Don’t keep him waiting.”

And with that, you saw the back of Van’s messy brunette head turn away and exit just as quickly as he entered. You sat back down with a groan. You wanted to let go and cry into your hands. Part of you wished you’d told him how disappointed you were rather than letting him believe you were completely fine. But how could you? This was potentially, a big moment for him and the band. 

You were all dressed up with nowhere to go it seemed. Though instead of melting into a puddle of tears and self-pity, you decided to do something completely out of character. You were going to go out and find your own fun, one way or another. You picked up your heavy heart and left the bus, off into the night.

………….

After a short walk past the venue and line of fans already gathered, you found a pub, or bar. Something. This would do, you thought. You walked inside more confidently than you felt and went straight to the bar. You ordered a martini with an olive and immediately felt like you’d slipped into the skin of a woman far more extravagant and fancier than yourself. You liked this newfound, make believe confidence you suddenly had. 

You sat alone at the bar with your drink, happily day dreaming and letting the alcohol buzz sooth your brain. You occasionally drifted into earshot of other people’s conversations and couldn’t help but eavesdrop. You loved people watching too. The worries you had about Van slipped into the back of your mind and this felt good. 

“Can I buy you another?” a deep voice suddenly asked from behind you. 

You turned around slowly and saw a man with intense eyes staring back at you. He had a dark goatee and you could see the glimmer of what was probably a gold tooth, between his lips as he smiled.

“I’m fine thank you,” you replied.

“A lady as beautiful as yourself shouldn’t be alone,” he responded, his voice slightly gravelly. 

He sat in the seat beside you and you gulped. He made eye contact with the waiter and pointed at your glass. You were promptly brought a new one and you hesitated to touch it. 

“Go on, won’t hurt,” the man pushed. “My treat.”

“T-thank you.” 

You awkwardly smiled and the man held his drink to yours. You wanted to escape before he got the wrong idea.

“Bottoms up,” he said as he took a swig of his pint.

You took a small, cautious sip of the new martini.

“I’m Dave, what’s your name sweetheart?”

You didn’t really want to give him your real name and you didn’t like being called sweetheart by anyone other than Van. You wanted to be the posh lady you pretended you were earlier. She would have taken the drink gladly and walked away by now.

“Y/n,” you stammered.

“So, what are you doing here all by yourself then y/n?”

Dave turned to face you.

“Uh- sorry, I uh have a boyfriend he-”

“As do I love,” he laughed, his slightly wrinkled face creasing into a friendly grin. 

Your lungs instantly let go of the breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Dave was just a kind stranger, not a creep. Phew.

“Oh,” you replied. 

“Sorry, y/n. Didn’t mean to give you a wrong impression or nothing!” Dave apologised.

“Oh no it’s okay. Just gotta be careful, you know.”

He nodded. 

“So where is your boyfriend tonight then Dave?” you giggled and turned to face him.

“Some meeting or something,” he shrugged and took another gulp of beer.

“Mine too,” you replied, looking down. 

It was probably the alcohol, but you began to feel all sulky and sad again. You missed Van; your Van. The Van who left muddy boots and a smoke-stained leather jacket by your door, who would serenade you while making you tea of a morning before you left for work, who made you watch Big Fish one hundred times.

“Oi now love don’t go getting sad. Let’s get you another drink and have a good time.”

Soon enough you were floating on a martini cloud. There was music playing and you were dancing with Dave and a few ladies out on a hen’s night. This was the most fun you’d had in ages. You spun around and let your hair down. Literally and metaphorically. 

“Marriage! That’s a big deal!” you half shouted over the music, while dancing with the bride to be. 

“Yeah! He’s the one!” she replied with a lovesick smile. 

“I think I’ve met the one,” you drunkenly slurred, more to yourself than her. 

You both kept grooving to the music as if you were in a nightclub, not a pub with an open floor and some cheap blue disco lights.

“Yeah? Where is he?”

She was the second person to ask that tonight and it hurt. He should be there with you, drinking and dancing on tables. 

“He’s in a band!” you yelled. “Got a show tonight so he’s at the venue. Bailed on our date though.”

“So that idiot let you go out alone?” she replied, her face shell shocked. “You could get anyone you wanted! Find better!”

“Yeah, it feels like it’s either me or the band,” you admitted loudly. “And I’m not even close second at the moment.”

She obviously had no idea what you meant or was too drunk to hear you as she just smiled, took a sip of her drink and danced away. At that moment, you felt a hand on your arm and you turned around.

“This idiot, has been lookin’ all over for you.”

Van was stood still, his face straight. This told you that you were in trouble. You were unsure how much he’d heard but were too drunk to care. 

“I’m not a child,” you responded simply. 

“I was worried y/n.”

You rolled your eyes. Van handed you his jacket, which you refused to put on, and ushered you outside. You turned to wave a final goodbye to Dave, but he seemed to be preoccupied, presumably by his returned boyfriend. Though he looked a lot happier to see him than Van did you. 

You walked next to Van and the others who had been waiting outside, with your arms crossed and face stern. That’s what you get for having a good time, you supposed. 

“I’d got out the meeting early, wanted to still take you to that dinner I’d promised,” Van said, sounding frustrated. 

 “Why am I in trouble?” you asked angrily. 

He clearly didn’t realise how drunk you were. 

“Babe, you’re not in trouble. I just didn’t know where you went and-”

“Oh, what so because you’re off doing special band, no girlfriends allowed business, I have to wait back on the bus bored stiff like some 1950’s housewife?”

“What?” Van questioned, his voice confused and short.

He stopped walking and faced you. His expression was contorted into that confused but not the cute kind of confused look. He motioned for Larry and Benji to keep walking without you. 

“You know exactly what I mean!”

“I don’t have time for this y/n. I have to soundcheck. I’ll see you in the green room yeah?”

He leaned in to kiss you on the forehead as if that would wash away any problem you had. You you swatted him away. He looked hurt but turned and walked off regardless. You wobbled on your feet and sighed. You were annoyed that he’d turned it into your fault; that you were in the wrong for going out after he cancelled your plans only to come back trying to reinstate them as if you’d just sit there waiting for him. But you felt like all you ever did was wait for him to be finished with whatever band thing he was doing, so how could you blame him when that was what he’d come to know?

“Yeah, gotta get back to the boys,” you muttered to yourself, watching Van’s blurry figure disappear from you once again.

........

Crew members filed in, pushing or dragging heavy black equipment boxes, others conducted soundcheck with the boys breezing in and out. You made your way through the chaos to the green room, feeling pretty invisible. You’d changed out of your dress and traded it for jeans and a hoodie. Your heart felt heavy once again and you weren’t feeling those martinis as strongly anymore. You grabbed one of the bottles of wine meant for the band, knowing they wouldn’t touch it before the show anyway, and drowned your sorrows a little. 

You ignored the world around you as best you could. You hated sitting there with the weird, half-argument between you and Van hanging in the air. You didn’t know if he’d heard what you said. You regretted saying it in the first place.

 “Save some for us y/n!” Bondy joked as he sauntered in and sat beside you, playing with his lighter.

You laughed, but not because what he said was funny. It was a spiteful laugh if anything. Bondy was blissfully unaware of what was going on. Or what your drunken, angry brain had convinced you was going on. Deep down you knew this was an unnecessary fight. 

Van came into the green room and silently sat on your other side, placing a warm hand on your thigh and leant over to kiss you. You quickly moved your face again and he just managed to graze your cheek instead. Out the corner of your eye you saw his eyebrows furrow in confusion and his forehead crease a little. It was your own fault he didn’t understand your mood; you’d allowed him to think everything was fine and peachy for days. 

“What’s goin’ on y/n?” he asked quietly. 

“Nothing,” you replied, teeth clenched, and eyes averted from Van’s gaze.

He clicked his tongue to his teeth and let out a breath. You gripped the wine bottle tightly in your fist and took another swig.

“Okay that’s enough of that...”

Van took the bottle from your hands and placed it down on the coffee table. This only outraged you more, but you knew better than to fight him about that too right now. 

“Why’re you being like this? Why’d you go out on your own earlier too? Just to get drunk with a bunch of strangers?” 

Van’s tone was frustrated and strained, you knew he didn’t understand any of this at all. To be honest, you didn’t really either and didn’t know what to say or how to put your feelings into words. Especially right now.

“Like I said before, you expect me to drop everything, sit around and wait for you to finish with the band.”

“You didn’t have to come on tour y/n.”

“No- I mean, like...”

“Save it y/n, I heard you before. You think I don’t care, that it’s only about the band.”

Van’s voice was low and sounded hurt. You knew you were being a little unfair and it made you ache seeing his face contort with frustration towards you.

“How could you think that?” he questioned.

You didn’t answer and he shook his head slightly.

“I didn’t mean what I said, it just came out,” you defended quickly. “I was excited to go out tonight. Do something with just you, something that was more us. I feel insignificant here.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

“How could I Van?” you exclaimed. 

Your eyes burned and you could feel the tears threatening to fall.

“Christ y/n, if you aren’t happy with me, you should tell me.”

Van had stood up now and he sounded angry. Proper mad at you. This alone felt like a tonne of bricks crashing down onto your chest. It was unlike him to jump to the extreme like this and question the whole relationship. You glanced around the room, embarrassed to see all the guys still in there. You quickly grabbed your bag and ran past Van and out the door into the hallway. 

“Y/n!” you heard him shout behind you. 

You kept walking. The tears were streaming down your cheeks now and you didn’t want him to see. You didn’t want him to think you were weak or pathetic or not strong enough to handle his lifestyle. You thought you were, but maybe you weren’t after all if you’d gotten to this point. Lately, all you’d felt was distance from Van, despite being right there with him on tour. 

When Van finally caught up with you, he grabbed your elbow like he did earlier in the pub and spun you around to face him. You wiped your cheeks and looked at the ground.

When he saw that you were crying, his angry expression melted away.

“Y/n...” he said softly. “What did you mean ‘how could you’?”

“How can I tell you I’m not happy or want more time with you when it’s either me or the band...I know how much the band means to you and I’d never make you sacrifice that. What if we had gone out earlier after all and you’d missed that meeting. What if it had been a meeting that changed your career and I made you lose that opportunity? I couldn’t do that to you.”

You were ranting now, and pretty sure you weren’t even making sense. But Van was quiet and listened. You continued, letting it all just drunkenly spill out. 

“I feel like here, I’m either in the background of everything or I feel suffocated and need a break. It’s overwhelming. That’s why I went out. I didn’t want to just be the girl who pathetically sits around waiting for you all the time. I wanted to have fun, be independent,” you admitted with a small shrug. “I almost feel it would have been easier if I’d stayed home while you went off. That way, I wouldn’t feel like I’m just an extra piece of baggage.”

“You’re not an extra bit of baggage y/n,” Van replied quietly. 

Your perspective had probably only just dawned on him. You knew he hadn’t meant for things to go this way on purpose. He was just oblivious. You looked up. Van reached out and wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose me or the band.”

“I don’t. But this whole thing, it’s never gonna be easy,” Van admitted with a sigh. 

You nodded in sad agreement.

“I’m sorry y/n. I get swept up in everything an’ I have a bad attention span. I’m no good at multitasking. But it’s no excuse. I should be looking after ya’ more and thinking about how you see things.”

You sniffled and felt stupid.

“I’m sorry too, Van. For all of this.”

Your bodies moved closer and soon Van had his long arms wrapped tightly around you. With your face buried in his chest, you let out more drunken sobs. Relief. He held you close and stroked your back slowly. 

“I’ve never seen you cry before,” he said quietly into your hair.

You let out a small laugh. 

“Yeah...”

Van pulled away from you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Tell me when you feel crap next time yeah? Call me out on my shit. I need that sometimes y/n,” Van chuckled.

He said this looking right into your eyes so you knew he was serious.

You nodded and sniffled your runny nose. 

“Go get back to soundcheck, rockstar,” you smiled.

Van winked, took you by the hand and led you back to the green room.

..........

You were back on the bus again traveling to a new city, but this time you knew better than to have a gas station meal. As usual, you were sat up with a book in hand under the lamp as it was getting dark outside. 

Suddenly the bus slowed and pulled over. You looked up from your pages in confusion. Then Van appeared from the back with a small smile, holding blankets and two enormous bags. Your eyebrows raised in question.

“Go get your boots y/n. We’re going on a date.”

Once you’d gotten your boots and a warm coat on, you followed Van out of the bus and up the road. You were confused and excited. What was he doing?

“Where are we going?”

“Shh y/n you’ll see.”

Van’s cheeky and smug grin made your heart fluttered with excitement. 

Soon enough, you were walking through a large field. You were unsure if you were allowed to be in there. Probably not, knowing Van. But you followed willingly anyway. He looked like he was swaying under the weight of all he was carrying but wouldn’t let you help him, insisting on being a gentleman. 

Eventually, Van stopped, He threw down the bags on a patch of grass and spread out some of the blankets before sitting down cross legged. You wondered if he had this particular spot in mind or had just walked confidently until he found somewhere of his liking? He patted the space on the blanket to his left, inviting you to sit beside him. Once you did, he opened one of the bags and pulled out a thermos. 

“Hot chocolate?” 

“I’d love one.”

You were grinning from ear to ear. Even in the dark, Van’s eyes were shining bright and he looked sort of angelic under the glowing moonlight. A hyperactive, scruffy angel. But angelic nonetheless. 

“So, y/n, I thought since you love all that space and stars stuff, we could come out here and look at it an’ that.”

“Astronomy?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed. “We can do some stargazin’.”

Your heart melted even more if that were possible; this was perfect. Van poured you a cup of hot chocolate from the thermos. Holding it in your hands warmed you up and made you feel cosy. He really did listen to you and know you. As much as you’d felt ignored lately. He’d remembered your interest in astronomy, something you’d really not mentioned all that much as you knew he wasn’t into it. 

As you sat there cuddled under blankets and drinking hot chocolate on a constant loop, you told him all about your favourite constellations, pointing out the direction they’d be in. You even managed to see one in the sky as it was so clear in the deep navy blue. Being away from a main city really made such a difference when you were trying to look at the stars. Less pollution and a lack of bright city lights made everything so much more visible. It was incredible.

You held Van’s hand tightly in yours. 

“Thank you for this Van,” you smiled as you rested your head down on his shoulder.

“You’re most welcome y/n. I should do this stuff for you more.”

He leaned down and kissed you on the head. You told him about stars and how they were so incredibly far away that the light you could see, was a star that was already dead. You weren’t sure he understood everything you said but he listened intently and was in complete awe of you. You liked showing him this little insight to your world, the same way he did with his music. As the time went by and the night grew colder, Van piled more blankets over you. You were amazed at how many he’d managed to find and how they fit in the bags he’d brought. 

“Where’d you get all these spare blankets?” you asked as he tucked another one over your laps.

“Spare?” he questioned with a smirk. “Stole ‘em off the lad’s beds, didn’t I?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed at him. Typical Van. The two of you shared a long kiss that was only broken by breath and smiling laughter into the other’s mouths. You were giddy in love this night was the perfect end to a crap couple of weeks and hopefully, the start of a wonderful next few to come. 

[nanlanmoarchived]

kniightharrington​:

Steve couldn’t hear her, his own spiral was taking the most out of him…but god it felt so good to feel her touch, his stomach though? Itr felt like it was going six different ways, and then whatever food he had eaten today came pouring out of his mouth.

Ugh he was fucking disgusting.

The irony was that he had somehow become the very thing he wanted to avoid becoming. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna go, the park. Tomorrow afternoon.” he said, forcing himself to his feet, though he was wobbly. “I’ve got a show to do.” He refused to show any more weakness in front of her. “I’ll be there.”

The next day at the park saw Steve Harrington, hung over to shit, but exactly ten minutes early. The rockstar lit his cigarette to try and take some of the edge off, but his entire body seemed to be humming in nerves. God he hated how nervous he was..he hated that his palms were drenched in sweat.

He hated that he was a mess, but he was anxious to meet his daughter.”

If there was one thing parenthood had trained Jessica for, it was the avoidance of surprise bodily fluids and as Steve's stomach emptied itself, she narrowly managed to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. On instinct her fingers ran through his hair, pulling the strands away from his face as she quietly murmured, "Okay. You're okay --" It was a lie on many levels clearly, but as she held the man she'd once loved so deeply, all she could do was hope that at some point the words would be true. If not for Allie, for Steve.

Jessica rose as Steve did, her arms prepared this time in case his knees gave out again. Instead she nodded at his decision, her own stomach twisting with anxiety as she watched him turn and stagger back to the gym. God, this was bad. As the man stepped inside, Emily emerged and Jessica was grateful for her friend. Honestly, with how bad her hands were shaking, she wasn't sure how safe she was to drive.

The evening passed with a very heated conversation between sisters, but come morning cooler heads prevailed and celebratory breakfast was shared with plenty of powdered sugar and syrup. Jessica's leg didn't stop bouncing once. Both her sister and uncle had made plays to join her and Steve at the park and their gentle attempts through the meal only made her anxiety worse. Whatever rumors had been circulated about him, Steve was still Steve. At least she had to believe that. They didn't need to be protected from him.

Much to their family's chagrin, mother and daughter part for the park on their own. Allie snugly settled on her mother's back as they walked the few blocks towards the playground, her voice lilting with a happy tune she'd picked up at school. This was good. Allie and Steve deserved to know one another. Her anxiety was just because she'd never anticipated Steve coming home. At least that's what she told herself when her heartbeat started to race when her eyes landed on Steve's form. She could do this. They could do this. 

As they approached Jessica cleared her throat first, then smiled, "Hey Steve." Curious brown eyes studied the man as Allie rested her chin on Jessica's shoulder, "Sorry we're runnin' behind. Someone decided that the super cute outfit we picked out last night would look so much better covered in powdered sugar so we had to make a pit stop." The little girl grinned, "Papa said I could have as much as I wanted on my french toast!"

Jessica had to laugh, if only to release some of the awkward tension that threatened to smother her. She had no idea how to properly introduce the two of them and given how fragile Steve still seemed, the last thing she wanted to do was overwhelm him. "Baby, can you say hi to my friend Steve?" At her mother's prompting, the kindergartner began to shuffle from her held position, sneakers landing on the sidewalk with a clap. God, the two of them really were carbon copies of one another. As the brunette little girl stood unknowingly in front of her father, Jessica had to fight the wave of emotions threatening to have her breaking down into tears. A tiny hand extended towards Steve with a bright grin, "It's very nice to meet you!" She chirped, her words lilting with the softest Southern drawl, "I'm Allison but I like Allie better!"