#dad van

[catb-fics]

Skin to Skin (Dad Van)

Words: 2k

No warnings just fluff for my Valentine’s countdown // Feeding your baby daughter for the first time 💗

Dad Van Masterlist Main Masterlist

You'd never understood the concept of crying tears of happiness until now. Sweat-soaked and exhausted, your voice hoarse and dry and your muscles strained and weary, you gently cradled the precious and wondrously beautiful new life that was your baby daughter and you sobbed as you watched her through glassy eyes full of tears.

"She's perfect babe, just perfect. I can't believe it. You did so good... I can't believe that she's ours..."

Van's voice is tight and shaky as he loses the fight to hold back his own tears, wiping them away with the cuff of his shirt sleeve as they track down his cheeks. You wrench your eyes away from your perfect little miracle to look up at him, so much love flowing between you at that moment as you soak up the realisation that you're parents now, no longer just a couple but a family.

"She's beautiful Van. Just look at her. Look at her little nose... and lips... and fingers. Everything's so tiny! I think she has your features, she definitely has your eyes. I think she looks like you already."

You both look down again at the little bundle, all swaddled up in a blanket, big expressive eyes wide open and gazing up at you and it hits you then. This is just the beginning.

You'd thought the birth was the hard part but the visceral pain of labour had already started to dull the moment the midwife had checked over and weighed your daughter and placed her in your arms. The hard parts are up ahead, the sleepless nights and the new-mum worries, the realisation that not only have you both created a little human being but now you have to take care of her for the rest of your lives overwhelming you.

"Nah, she's too beautiful to look like me, she's gorgeous, just like her mummy. I'm so proud of you Y/N, you were amazing. I'm in absolute awe of you love."

His eyes glow with adoration as he looks between you both, slipping an arm around your shoulder as he snuggles in even closer to you on the hospital bed.

"I couldn't have done it without you," you tell him, resting your head his shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you too... so much," he mumbles into your hair, planting a soft kiss there before he turns his attention back to his little girl, leaning right over her, a fingertip gently running over the apple of her rosy cheek. "Hey there baby girl, I've been waiting so long to meet you... and here you are, more beautiful than I ever could've imagined."

She makes a soft gurgling cooing noise, stretching out a tiny arm, her hand coming to rest on Van's finger. He lets out a delighted chuckle as her small but perfectly formed fingers wrap around his fingertip.

"Look at that! Look at that Y/N! Hey sweetheart, I'm your daddy. I love you so much, me and your mummy love you more than anything. You wouldn't believe."

His voice cracks again as he fights back a fresh round of tears, fascinated and awed by this new life that you've both been blessed with. She blinks up at Van through her long lashes, squirming in your arms, turning her head towards his finger, tiny lips seeking as a small whimper arises.

"I think maybe she's hungry already," you observe. "She definitely takes after you! Are you hungry my little one?"

You shift on the bed, drawing down your nightdress and unclipping your maternity bra, uncertainty taking over as you awkwardly try to manoeuvre your daughter into the position you'd been shown in your ante-natal sessions.

"Are you okay? What can I do? Do ya want a pillow? Here... have one to prop up your arm," Van offers, fussing around you, concern in his eyes as he takes in your worried expression. "Can ya manage? Are ya comfy like that? Shall I get the midwife back?"

"No, no... just let me try," you insist. "It can't be that hard."

Surely it should be the most natural thing in the world? The female human body is literally designed to birth a child and feed and nurture it, but even so your head is full of countless stories you've read on baby blogs online about breast-feeding struggles. Your little girl latches on hungrily but then quickly pulls away, her whimpers growing stronger, her small fingers pawing at your skin.

"Shit... this is harder than it looks," you curse nervously, gathering your baby up in your arms to try switching sides, groans of frustration bursting from you as you struggle to get your positioning right. "Something's wrong, I'm not doing it right. I just can't seem to get it right!"

Your eyes flick up to meet Van's anxious expression but then quickly back down, not wanting him to see the hot tears that are brimming in your eyes. Tears of tiredness and worry and frustration this time.

"You're doing great babe, really... you are. We could just give her a bottle though... just this once... I'm sure it'd be fine..."

"No!" You cut him off bluntly, your voice coming sharper and with more force that you intend. His eyes widen and his face creases and you soften then, quickly checking yourself. "I didn't mean to snap," you explain. "You know I want to do this myself, it's really important to me. I just need a bit of time to get it right... that's all."

"Okay... okay... I just want to do as much as I can. I'm sure you'll be feeding her like a pro in no time though! You can do anything that you set your mind to... you'll see... you always do."

Van grins a warm encouragement, one hand gently stroking at the downy hair on your baby's head, the other smoothing down over your back. You both watch as her tiny lips latch on again, a surprisingly strong suction this time that makes you gasp. You look up at Van, a huge smile of triumph breaking out.

"She's doing it... she's actually doing it!" You whisper, excitedly but quietly lest you break the spell. Van looks back at you with pride and reverence in his eyes, shaking his head slightly like he still can't quite believe that the last tough ten hours of labour since you arrived at the hospital have just taken place.

He leans even closer, peering in wonder as he takes in the scene. "Just look at you both like that... look at her go! She's proper guzzling! S'fuckin' amazing innit?"

"Shh... no swearing, remember?" You gently scold him with a smirk. "Don't want her growing up foul-mouthed like her Daddy!" You're only joking and he knows it, breathing a quiet 'sorry love' in between a whispered laugh.

You're both silent then for a long moment, you leaning into Van's warm embrace, your daughter contentedly suckling at your body's wonderful nourishment, a picture perfect scene that you know will be imprinted in your memories forever.

"How's it feel anyway?" Van breaks the silence eventually, folding the neckline of your nightdress carefully back where it's fallen over your daughter's face.

"It's just... weird... feels weird... kinda strange..." You pause, searching for the right words, quickly adding "in a good way though... a really good way. It feels bloody amazing actually. I can't believe I'm actually doing it. I'm actually feeding our baby Van... our daughter... our little girl. Can you believe it?"

You break off into a delighted giggle, only distracted when the sensation of your baby suckling changes, looking down to see her tiny jaw slacken as her lips purse and pucker as she pulls away. A small trickle of milk pools in the corner of her mouth which you quickly wipe away with a muslin cloth.

"Oh my god look at her!" You laugh, watching her eyelids fluttering as she blinks up at you sleepily, looking almost dazed. "That's the exact same look you get when you've had too much to drink!"

"Milk-drunk!" Van sniggers, lifting his arm away from your shoulder as he shifts on the bed. "Must be good stuff! Not surprising really... considering where it's come from!"

You laugh, nudging him with your elbow lightly, then you set about propping your baby up on your lap, gently rubbing soothing circles on her back which elicits a tiny burp, smiling to yourself that you've already overcome such an important first milestone of motherhood.

You're so caught up on making gooey eyes at your daughter that you don't realise what Van's doing, but detecting movement out the corner of your eye prompts you to look around. To your surprise and puzzlement, Van's sitting there propped up against the headboard of the hospital bed unbuttoning his shirt. The first four buttons are already undone and he's starting on the fifth when you speak, stilling him momentarily.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"It's my turn now, c'mon pass her over," he smiles, popping open the last button and holding out his arms, his shirt falling open to reveal his bare chest.

You just stare at him, completely befuddled, wondering whether maybe he's been sneakily siphoning off some of the gas and air whilst your back's been turned. "C'mon," he urges. "Ya can't keep her all to yourself! I'm desperate to hold her!"

"Sure... sure..." you mumble, gathering up your precious little bundle and getting gingerly to your feet, wincing slightly as you shuffle over to Van. You stop, hovering over him whilst he looks at you expectantly, bursting with eagerness. "What's with stripping off though? I'm not being funny, but you haven't exactly got... the right equipment!"

He grins, shaking his head. "Course not love, but I'm just thinking about what the midwife said... you know, in the ante-natal classes. About how dads could get involved? Skin to skin or summat... s'posed to be a good way to bond."

"Oh... so you were listening then?" You tease good-naturedly, recalling all the daft jokes Van used to relentlessly crack during the sessions, no doubt a cover for the nervousness he'd never admit at the prospect of becoming a dad.

You can see it now, the slight tremble in his hands as you place your baby carefully in his outstretched arms, the gentle way he supports her head and tiny body like she's made of the finest china and he's frightened that she might break.

"Oh wow, she's so tiny... she's as light as a feather. And so, so beautiful... just perfect. How did we create something so perfect, eh?"

You hear him suck in a shaky breath which he blows out quickly, leaning back against the headboard and bringing his daughter closer to his body. He lifts her carefully and positions her so she's pressed flush to his chest, then he begins to untuck the blanket that's swaddled around her, delicately pulling it free.

"Look at you... all wrapped up like a little burrito!" He chuckles. "C'mon sweetheart, come and lie on daddy. Gonna take good care of you... you and your mum. I love you both so much."

He dips his head down to plant a small kiss on your baby's head and she makes a contented cooing sound, nuzzling into his bare chest. He's cradling her with one hand, the other stroking soft, soothing circles on her back. You feel your heart swell with emotion watching the two of them together, your precious little girl so serene and comforted, the way Van looks down at her so dotingly and protective.

"Thank you Y/N," he murmurs, voice a little choked as he looks up, meeting your eyes which again are brimming with tears of emotion, his own looking glossy too.

"For what?"

He smiles, warm and genuine. "For making me so happy. Don't think I've ever felt this happy before... ever."

[your-divine-ribs]

Valentine’s Day (Dad Van)

Valentine’s Day with Dad Van 💗

Dad Van Masterlist Main Masterlist

💗 Van's always said he hates the commercial side of Valentine's Day and you do too, but that doesn't mean that you don't secretly want him to spoil you.

💗 You have a sneaky plan to drop major hints around your daughter Grace who has a habit of feeding everything that she hears back to her dad.

💗 "Mummy likes peonies the best Daddy... big red ones... and tulips too... but they've got to be pink or white..."

💗 You smile to yourself as you hear Van asking her to use her 'quiet' voice whilst you're in the kitchen next door. It's not working... you could probably hear her if you were halfway down the street.

💗 "She likes chocolate too... any type of chocolate... she's not fussy about that!"

💗 "Shh Gracie!" Van urges back. "We don't want Mummy finding out beforehand do we? We gotta keep it a secret!"

💗 "But Mummy always says we shouldn't keep secrets from each other!"

💗 "Mummy's right but this is different angel," Van explains patiently. "Some secrets are good secrets... when you're doing something nice for someone and you want it to be a surprise... it's okay then."

💗 It's quiet for a moment and you can picture the thoughtful look on your daughter's face as what Van's told her sinks in.

💗 When she does speak again she is actually whispering this time and you have to press your ear against the door to listen... you know you really shouldn't but you can't help it... you love to hear their Daddy/daughter chats.

💗 "I've got a secret too," she giggles secretively. "I have a boyfriend... at school!"

💗 "A... a boyfriend?" Van splutters and you have to slap a hand over your mouth to stop the loud laugh that nearly bursts forth that would give away your eavesdropping. "Bit young for that ain't ya?"

💗 Grace has already filled you in on the 'big fat crush' she has on one on her class-mates, Robbie, but she's not told her dad yet whose protective streak goes into overdrive around his daughter.

💗 Grace is all coy giggles as she confides in her dad. "Well he's not my boyfriend yet... but I want him to be. Can you help me? I want to do something nice for Valentines and Mummy says you're dead romantic!"

💗 "Oh, she does, does she?" You can actually hear the smugness in your husband's voice.

💗 Without warning the door's suddenly opening and you're stumbling forwards, driven by the momentum of leaning against it.

💗 "Ahhh!" You gasp, lurching over the threshold, your fall broken by a pair of strong hands as Van catches you.

💗 "You weren't snooping by any chance were ya love?" He smirks at your glowing cheeks as you right yourself, flustered but trying to hide it.

💗 "No I wasn't!" You cry out rather unconvincingly as Van and Grace look at each other, sniggering. "I was just... errr... I was just coming to ask if you wanted a cuppa actually."

💗 Van and Grace spend the rest of the afternoon sitting cross-legged and hunched over together on the living room floor, Van with his acoustic guitar in his lap and Grace with her little pink sparkly notebook and matching pen.

💗 There's plenty of tinkling laughter from Grace and chuckles from Van, cries of "No that sounds silly Daddy, that doesn't even rhyme!" and "That's class that is Gracie, you're a natural!"

💗 "What're you two up to then?" You ask, intrigued, peering over Grace's shoulder to try and decipher her messy scrawl in the notebook. "Looks like fun."

💗 "It's nothing!" She blurts quickly, snatching the notebook up and swiftly closing it, hugging it closely to her chest.

💗 "Doesn't look like nothing to me," you say, full of curiosity. "C'mon, tell me. What is it?"

💗 Van nudges Grace gently with his elbow and they share a knowing look. "I reckon Mummy's being nosey again, what d'ya think, eh?"

💗 "Yeah... and we can't tell her because it's a secret!" She purposefully exaggerates the last word, a huge mischievous grin stretching wide across her face. She really is the spitting image of her dad sometimes. They're like two peas in a pod.

💗 "You'll find out soon enough love," Van adds mysteriously and you look between them both, taking in Van's tight-lipped smirk and the sparkle of excitement in Grace's eyes. There's no way you're going to find out what they're cooking up between them.

💗 "You'd better not be up to no good!" You laugh, backing away to leave them to it.

💗 Van presses a hand to his chest, speaking with an exaggerated innocence that doesn't match his cheeky expression. "Us? Up to no good? Never!"

💗 The next few days leading up to Valentine's Day you have to endure plenty of hushed whispers whenever you walk into a room that Van and Grace are occupying, their sneaky collusions mounting the closer you get.

💗 On the day you awaken to the sensation of a pair of soft lips peppering gentle kisses all over the exposed skin of your shoulder. You hum in appreciation, pushing your body back against the length of Van's, your bare feet tangling together.

💗 "Morning beautiful," he greets you, hands sliding around your waist and nudging under the hem of your pyjama top. "D'ya know what day it is?"

💗 "Hmm... morning," you reply, practically purring as you feel him moving your hair to one side, his lips brushing the delicate skin of your neck. "It's... Wednesday isn't it?"

💗 "Yeah it's Wednesday... but it's a special Wednesday," he murmurs in between kisses. "D'ya know why?"

💗 "Nuh-uh..." You decide to play dumb, enjoying the attention he's lavishing on you too much, taking full advantage. "I am still half asleep though... maybe a few more kisses will wake me up..."

💗 Van needs little encouragement, a hand curling around your shoulder to pull your body down so you're flat on your back and he's hovering over you. "Now that's a service I can certainly provide!"

💗 You lie back, feigning sleepiness whilst Van kisses your forehead, your cheeks and the tip of your nose before scattering tiny kisses all down your jaw. "You awake yet love?"

💗 "Nah... not yet... still sleepy... keep going!"

💗 His hair tickles your skin whilst he nuzzles into the hollow of the base of your neck and you let out a contented sigh, your body relaxing into the mattress.

💗 "Maybe this'll wake ya up..."

💗 Why is he so good at this? You can feel your toes curl involuntarily as he sucks gently at your pulse point... you have to stifle a moan.

💗 "Daddy! Daddy! Wake up! It's the day! It's here!"

💗 Van leaps a foot into the air away from you in shock. The excited cry is followed by the sound of tiny feet drumming on the floor before your bedroom door flies open, crashing back on its hinges.

💗 Grace is carrying the biggest bunch of flowers, all your favourites, lush deep red peonies and delicate white tulips, all hand-tied and finished off with a silk bow. They're so big she's practically obscured by the petals.

💗 "Happy Love Day!" She announces proudly, grinning at you, thrusting the flowers towards you.

💗 "Oh wow! Thank you sweetheart," you beam as you take them from her, then you turn to Van. "They're beautiful, thank you... but I didn't think we were doing gifts this year?"

💗 Of course despite your words you've already thought of Van, a bottle of his favourite cologne stashed away in your drawer and some racy lingerie you intend to keep for later on tonight...

💗 "Ahh that's only a little something," he grins. "Wait till we get to the main event!" Him and Grace exchange looks before he's rising up off the bed and him and Grace are rushing out of the room, whispering conspiratorially to each other.

💗 They return just moments later, Van with his acoustic guitar and Grace with her notebook, settling themselves down on the end of the bed.

💗 "Let me go first!" Grace says excitedly, thumbing through her notebook and clearing her throat like she's just about to give an important speech.

💗 "I do love you Mummy, but this isn't for you... this for Robbie." You and Van exchange smiles full of quiet amusement at her serious tone then back to her she starts to read out a wonderful poem. It's full of declarations of love and how it makes her feel all warm and fluffy inside.

💗 You can definitely hear Van's influence even though Grace insists that it's all her own work. You're pretty sure not many 6 year olds would slip the word 'acquiesce' into a poem unprompted though.

💗 "That's amazing!" You enthuse as she comes to an end, giving a little bow as you and Van both applaud her. "I'm sure Robbie's going to fall madly and desperately in love with you after hearing that!"

💗 "Just like you and Daddy," she smiles, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. "He says he got you to fall in love with him by writing you a song."

💗 "Talking of which..." Van's grins widely as he starts to strum, keeping his eyes fixed right on you as he begins to sing an unfamiliar tune.

💗 You've been together for years but his voice still gives you goosebumps, especially when he looks at you like that, with all that love and adoration in his eyes.

💗 Grace joins in on the chorus and you can't hold back the pearly tears that brim in your eyes and overspill down your cheeks. You can hear that your daughter's definitely put her creative stamp on their little project.

💗 The melody is sweet and simple and the words are touching and heartfelt and the fact that they wrote it together just for you makes your heart swell with emotion.

💗 There's no for need showy words or fancy metaphors to get the message across, it's quite simple and abundantly clear... they love you... and just like once before all those years ago you can feel yourself falling in love all over again.

[barrel-crow-n]

[thatoneacecryptid]

Sometimes a family can be a crazy smart illiterate heir, a bi boy with an adrenaline problem, a fabulous witch, the boy she trained who loves her very much, a sweetheart with enough sharp things on her she can legally be classified as a porcupine, and a traumatized and terrifying boy who needs to go to sleep

[hatepotion]

jesper fahey…. are you worried about me?

[five-of-cr]

wylan textpost because i love him

[korkusts]

And I give…. A small dollop of rdr

[somethinglikethatyeah83]

fathers day themed mini-fic released!! I didn't edit it and its only 1.5K but it'll do :)

hope you enjoy it :)

[sassydefendorflower]

It's actually so important to me that the first time we see Ed actually cry in Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood and Manga) - apart from the automail surgery - is when Hohenheim offers him his life to bring back Alphonse.

Throughout the entire story Ed doesn't cry because of his misguided love-filled promise to Al. No matter how horrible their odds, no matter how traumatizing their journey, Ed refuses to cry. He comes close. So, so close. When Izumi tells them it's okay to be sad, offering comfort after a long time without. After Nina dies and Ed and Al let the rain wash away their sorrow. When Hughes dies and guilt becomes an even heavier cloak weighing their shoulders down. When death comes knocking on Ed's door and he decidedly sends it packing.

Ed laughs and rages and smiles and screams.

But he doesn't cry.

Just because Al can't.

Ed was eleven when he made that promise. He was a child suffering through something truly horrific when he promised himself and the world that he wouldn't cry as long as his brother wasn't allowed to do the same.

Which is painful to watch - especially since it tells us that Ed knows how much crying is a part of life. He gave something up, not out of some misguided idea of masculinity, but because he knew it would be a sacrifice to keep himself from crying. A punishment since his brother could no longer offer his tears in the face of sorrow.

But by the end of the story Ed has cried. And it's not tears of joy, like the ones he promised Winry. No, Ed is angry when he cries - and Alphonse is no longer there.

In a way Ed kept his promise to Al - he only cried when the person he made this promise to (be it silent and secretive) was gone.

As far as they knew Al was dead.

But that truth alone didn't bring tears to Ed's eyes, though it certainly shattered his heart and made him quiver in desperation. No, in the end it was Hohenheim who finally allowed Ed to spill tears kept locked away for four long years.

And I love it.

I love that Hohenheim trying to do something truly loving, something completely selfish, something absolutely sacrificial was the thing that pushed Ed over the edge.

Because Ed never forgave his father for leaving, but by the end of the story he understands why he left.

Because Ed is so unbelievably angry with this man who abandoned him, and he still cares for him - partially because he knows Alphonse does.

Because Ed was never forced to forgive Hohenheim, but we still know that Hohenheim loves his children and his wife and would do everything for them.

Even, no, especially if it means dying.

And Ed can't take it.

So many others have died by this point, they are all painted in blood and pain, and Ed has lost his only constant - and now his father wants to make an ultimate sacrifice?

No.

So, Ed gets angry. And he cries. And he saves Al on his own - with the help of all of his friends, and Hohenheim.

Because no matter Ed's feelings on the man who gave him life, he doesn't want to see anyone else die. He doesn't want anyone else's blood on his hands.

And he wants Hohenheim to get a chance to be a rotten father - because at the end of the day Hohenheim is someone worth crying over even, no, especially by the boy who promised he wouldn't cry.

(there is something to be said about Hohenheim crying on their family portrait, only to be mirrored by Ed grinning while holding his own child - there is something to be said about Hohenheim willingly offering his life, only to be stopped by the tears running down his son's angry face - there is something to be said about Ed's anger and Hohenheim's soft grief and their shared past)

[catb-fics]

Who would be the better dad between Bondy and Van?

This is so hard because I think they’d be very different dads but both good in their own ways!

I think Van would be a very hands on dad (as long as touring/music had taken a bit of a backseat as I feel this would take his attention away). The house would be full of fun, laughter and silliness. He seems to be very affectionate and tactile so loads of hugs and cuddles. He’d be very supportive but probably try and get the kids into one of his passions, ie football or music. Big family gatherings. The kids would get spoiled. Maybe he wouldn’t be so good at discipline though, I think the kids would wrap him around their little fingers 🤭

Bondy would be quite a chilled and calm dad I feel but so much fun. Can you imagine his bedtime stories? I think there’d be loads of fun days out, boat trips to Holy Island to see the puffins, exploring in the woods, ice skating, picnics on the beach. Every day would be an adventure but he’d make sure the kids were learning valuable stuff at the same time. He’d make sure the kids grew up well-mannered with good values and really stretch their little imaginations.

[your-divine-ribs]

Expectations (Dad Van)

Words: 3.2k

Valentine’s Day when you’re heavily pregnant, no warnings just fluff 💗

Dad Van Masterlist Main Masterlist

It wasn't getting any easier. You were eight months pregnant and ready to pop. Your back ached, your muscles were strained and you were bone-weary tired. Since your perfect little rounded baby-belly had grown exponentially with no signs of slowing down you'd barely had more than three hours unbroken sleep, tossing and turning in bed at night in a fruitless attempt to get comfortable and getting up for frequent toilet breaks, and that wasn't the only problem. You felt like your body wasn't your own anymore, that the baby wasn't just taking up temporary residence but had moved in and completely taken over. The feeling was akin to being a lodger in your own house.

Of course you didn't begrudge the little one, you already loved her more than life itself and you'd not even met her yet, but boy were you impatient now. The pregnancy glow had dissipated quickly as you'd entered the third trimester and now you just felt huge and cumbersome and heavy and just so bloody exhausted, not to mention thoroughly undesirable. Not that your boyfriend would agree. If anything he just craved you all the more, showering you with affection and compliments and tender touches that quickly turned needy. He literally couldn't keep his hands off you, and who were you to deny him when he made you feel so good?

It had been a long day at work and you let out a drawn out sigh of relief as you pulled up on to your driveway. The promise of maternity leave was now only two weeks away but it may as well have been two years the way the days stretched on ahead of you seemingly endlessly.

"Hey, I'm home!" You called into the quiet house, ears straining for a response, a smile stretching on your lips at the faint call of "up here love... come on up... I've run you a bath..."

In truth you were envious of the way that Van's career gave him the freedom to work the hours he chose, letting him shun the 9 to 5 rat-race that you were embroiled in, but at times like this you were thankful. Now you were on the home stretch of your pregnancy he'd cancelled all touring and engagements and he was there waiting for you each day after work with a warm hug and a smile. He wasn't the typical house-husband type and his domestic skills left a lot to be desired, but he was trying so hard, and that was the important thing.

You hung up your coat and trudged up the stairs, the effort quickly leaving you panting for breath, unbuttoning your blouse and shrugging out of it as you went.

"Did ya have a good day love?"

Van looked up as you entered the bathroom, his eyes quickly leaving yours to trail over the expanse of your swollen belly. You didn't think it was possible to convey love as much from just a look but it was blatantly obvious the way that his eyes lit up as he gazed on your heavily pregnant form. It caught you off guard every time, a warm glow erupting in your chest as he quickly crossed to you with his arms outstretched.

"It was okay I guess, just the same old shit every day. I'm just so tired and everything aches. How about you? What've you been up to?"

Van's hands curled around your hips as he looked down on you. "Well I finished painting the nursery at last. It's looking really good now, all ready for our little princess."

Again his gaze sank to your belly, a hand tenderly brushing over your skin as he crouched down to talk directly to the large bump. "And how's my little lady doing? You been behaving yourself for mummy today?"

He was answered with a kick and you giggled at the perfect timing. You were certain that your unborn daughter could pick out Van's voice as she often responded to it, livening up immediately when she heard him. You often found yourself day-dreaming, fast-forwarding in your head, picturing Van and her laughing and playing, cooking up wild scenarios and going on epic adventures limited only by a child's imagination, the perfect duo. You just knew that they were going to be partners in crime and you'd probably end up on the receiving end of their mischievous pranks before she'd even learnt to talk properly. And you couldn't wait.

"She can hear you, she's kicking! Here... put your hand right here!"

You placed your hand atop Van's, sliding it across your tummy to where a little foot or hand or elbow was currently pummelling you from the inside, watching Van's expression turn to wonderment as he felt the vibrations through your skin.

"Yeah, yeah I can feel her! Hey little one! Whatcha doing in there?" He looked up at you. "She's got a right kick on her hasn't she? I swear she's gonna be a footballer." Back to your belly. "You gonna play for United yeah? Make your daddy proud?"

You rolled your eyes, laughing. "More like a boxer I'd say. She's been kicking the shit out of me all day, using my bladder as a punch bag!"

Van chuckled, leaning in to plant a kiss just above your navel and then rising to his feet and indicating the bath.

"You gonna get in then before it gets cold? I've just got some stuff to do downstairs."

Your brow creased into a little frown, disappointment flickering through you. "You not joining me? You know... 'cause it's Valentine's Day and all that? Make up for not even bothering to get me a card or a bunch of roses!"

You narrowed your eyes at him, letting mock-annoyance tinge your words. You weren't really bothered. You knew that he hated the commercial side of Valentines and to be honest you did too, but you couldn't resist teasing him. His eyes widened, feigning offence.

"You really need me to get you a sappy card and a bunch of over-priced flowers to show my love for ya? Nah... that just won't cut it. Got something else planned haven't I? And it's much better than all that..."

He trailed off, his voice mysterious which instantly kicked your intrigue into overdrive. He was wearing that cheeky little smirk on his lips now that made your pulse quicken and you wondered what he had planned.

"Are you gonna make love to me on a bed of rose petals?" You grinned up at him, watched him shake his head. "Whisk me off to Paris maybe?" He pulled a face.

"You'll find out soon enough. Now go on, have your bath... relax for a bit. Then come downstairs straight after, yeah?"

"Okay, okay. This'd better be good McCann!"

"Oh it will be!"

He shot you a cheeky wink and leant forward to press a small kiss to your cheek, then he was darting out of the bathroom and bounding quickly down the stairs, his footsteps receding as you heard him moving down the hallway.

The bath was just what you needed and you sank down into the fragrant bubbles, feeling the knots of tension loosen as your muscles soaked up the heavenly warmth. You didn't even realise that you'd fallen asleep until a loud crashing sound wrenched you out of your slumber and you sat bolt upright, water sloshing over the side of the tub.

It was completely quiet and you began to think that maybe it was the remnants of a dream, but then you heard another noise, a metallic thunk followed by a string of curses. What the hell was he doing down there?

The piercing sound of the smoke alarm gave you your answer and you groaned out loud. Van's disastrous forays into cooking were almost legendary and you were still haunted by the time he almost set the kitchen on fire trying to flash-fry a steak. Thankfully catastrophe was averted and the only casualties were his singed eyebrows and a bruised ego, but it could have been a lot worse. Heaven knows what carnage he could be causing downstairs right now.

So you reluctantly hauled your pregnant frame out of the bath tub and dried yourself down with a fluffy towel which you quickly secured around your chest, opening the bathroom door and calling down the stairs.

"You alright down there? What's going on?"

The reply was immediate, shouted back up with gusto. "Yeah, everything's fine! Don't worry! Got everything under control babe! Just had a... minor mishap..."

You sighed, considering returning to the bath, but the warmth had started to leech from the water and the skin on your fingertips had started to shrivel so you pulled the plug and turned to look at your reflection in the large mirror situated over the sink, letting the towel drop to the floor. Wiping away the condensation you were met with a version of yourself that you barely recognised. Your skin was stretched tightly over your stomach which was now protruding that much that you could no longer see your feet. Your breasts were swollen and heavy, having gone up two cup sizes... much to Van's delight. Then there were the stretch marks. A network of fine red stripes stretching all over the underside of your baby bump. Tiger stripes. You hated them with a passion, even knowing that eventually they'd fade to faint silvery lines, but Van wouldn't hear you moan about them. You smiled to yourself as you recalled him kissing them tenderly, telling you that they were simply part of you, so he loved them just as much as the rest of you.

Another barrage of curse words drifted up from downstairs, snatching your attention away from the mirror and you grabbed for your fluffy robe, slipping into it and padding downstairs quickly on your bare feet.

You could smell the acrid scent of burning and see the air thick with smoke before you'd even pushed fully through the kitchen door and you braced yourself when you did, coming to a stop with your mouth agape, stunned by the sight before you. There were discarded pans in the sink coated with congealed burnt on food and boiled over pots on the stove. Dark splotches of a thick red sauce was sprayed up the usually pristine white cupboard surfaces. But that wasn't what really caught your attention.

There in the midst of it all was Van, his face creased into an awkward smile, splattered with pasta sauce... completely stark bollock naked apart from a garish pink novelty Valentine's apron bearing the words 'Will You Be Mine?'

"Alright love," he said meekly. "I really wanted to make you a nice dinner, but I think I might have fucked it up a little bit..."

You were quiet for a moment, taking in the scene, but not for long. How could you dwell on the kitchen chaos when you were faced with that?

"Oh my god... what the hell are you wearing? Or should I say what aren't you wearing?"

Van's face instantly cracked into a wide playful grin. "Ta-da!" He smirked proudly. "You like it?"

"It's... it's..." you trailed off into another fit of giggles as Van held out his arms and gave you a twirl... and an eyeful in the process. "I don't know what to say! I'm actually speechless for once!"

"How about 'come ere sexy?'"

You crossed the kitchen in a few steps, straight into his waiting arms, both laughing as he tried to pull you in tight for a hug but your huge baby bump prevented your bodies from meeting.

"Think something's come between us!" You quipped, then you pulled back, eyeing the gaudy apron with amusement. "So this is it, eh? This is my big Valentine's present? You practically naked? I'm surprised you didn't jump out of a giant cake or wrap yourself up in shiny paper with a big ribbon or something!"

"You can still unwrap me if ya like love?" He grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maybe after dinner?"

"Dinner?" You echoed, your eyes darting to the chaos behind him, your nose wrinkling in distaste at the pungent smell of burnt food. You'd long gotten over the nausea of morning sickness but the idea of trying to stomach one of Van's culinary creations was making your gut churn. "So... what did you make?"

"Well... it was supposed to be some posh pasta dish... saw Gordon Ramsey cooking it online. It's just not turned out quite how it was supposed to. I mean, we might be able to salvage it..." he paused, the sheepish look returning as he glanced behind him at the mess. "Or I could just do us beans on toast?" His voice rose up hopefully, face scrunching doubtfully. "Or there's some pizzas in the freezer... or maybe we could get a takeaway?"

"Takeaway sounds good!" You hurriedly blurted, relieved to have a choice that didn't involve Van's cooking, grabbing hold of his hand when you saw the disappointment etched on his face although he was trying to hide it. "Hey, all this is great, I really do appreciate it you know. Don't feel bad about it."

"But I do feel bad love. I really wanted to do something special for you, make it romantic. You do so much and you never complain and I'm just a bit..." he paused, shrugging whilst he searched for the right word. "Useless..."

"Awww don't say that!" You made a grab for his other hand, drawing him close and looking up at him. "You've been doing loads recently. You've completely decorated the nursery, you've been out buying loads of stuff, you've come to all the ante-natal classes with me..."

"Yeah, and I about bloody passed out when the midwife was going through your birth plan. What am I gonna be like at the real thing? I'm probably just gonna go and let you down."

You giggled. "You'll be fine, honestly, you'll see. We both will be as long as we're together."

He smiled then, gave a small sigh and a shrug, and then a little frown creased his features. "I'm trying Y/N, I really am. I've wanted to be a dad for as long as I can remember and I'm so excited, but now it's only weeks away I keep stressing, worrying I'm not doing enough. I wanna do as much as I can, look after you, and the baby when she's here." His eyes strayed down to your bump, glowing fondly. "Wanna take care of both of you."

"You're doing great Van, you really are," you assured him. "I certainly got no complaints."

He didn't look convinced. "But I can't even cook a simple pasta dish! And you should have seen me painting the nursery earlier. I swear I ended up with more paint in my hair than than on the walls! I'm just rubbish at all this 'hands on' stuff. And what about when the baby's here? What if I do something wrong? What if I'm a shit dad?"

He looked so earnest it made your heart ache. It was only a few weeks back that you'd been wracked with worries and doubts yourself when you'd been packing your hospital bag in advance as instructed. It had suddenly all seemed too real and too imminent and you'd panicked, wondering how on earth you were actually going to physically birth the baby and then feed and look after her. Van had been right there at your side, a comforting arm around your shoulder, his free hand brushing away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks as you'd offloaded all your worries on to him. His gentle caresses and words of comfort had eventually coaxed you around to a more positive state as he'd told you how strong you were and how much he admired you and how you were going to be "the best mum the world had ever seen". Then he'd made you laugh when he'd backtracked and added, "Just don't tell my mum I said that or she'll kill me!"

Now you'd switched roles and you were the one building up Van's wavering confidence. Few people saw this side of him. He was always outwardly so self-assured, but you knew the real Van. The one who took so much pride in everything that he did that anything short of perfection was deemed a failure.

You disentangled your fingers from his so you could reach up and cup his face with both of your hands, thumbs brushing his freckled cheeks.

"You are so not going to be a shit dad!" You told him, your voice coming out firmer than intended which caused his lips to curl into a smile. "You're one of the kindest, most caring people I know. Fair enough, you're a crap cook..." You paused, a laugh bubbling up which Van echoed. "But our little girl is going to the luckiest girl in the world to have a dad like you. I bet there's not many babies that've already got about three albums worth of songs written for them before they've even been born! You're gonna be a great dad and she's gonna love you so much."

He hung on your every word, his smile growing as you spoke, his hands sliding around your waist.

"And I'm gonna love her too. I already do. You wouldn't believe how much Y/N... I didn't even think it was possible to ever love anyone as much as I love you, but I do. And that's a whole lot of fucking love!"

He chuckled, his fingers flexing on your waist, squeezing you gently. You felt so much love and affection at that moment you were sure that you were positively glowing with it. And he hadn't finished yet.

"Honestly babe, I don't know what I did to deserve you. You make me so happy."

"And I love you too," you replied, pushing yourself up on to the balls of your feet as you tilted his face down to meet yours. "Come here you big softy!"

You pressed your lips to his and he practically purred in appreciation, his hands sliding further around your waist as he pulled you as close to him as your baby bump would allow. The kiss was soft and sweet and his lips were warm and enticing, moving slowly against yours, savouring your closeness.

Your hands fell away, reaching for his hips and you smiled against his mouth as you felt the bare skin there. You'd almost forgotten about your Valentines surprise, such a typical Van gesture.

You pulled away, fixing him with a sexy little smile as your fingers located the apron string, tugging on it until it came undone. He smirked down on you, his eyes simmering with a gentle kind of heat which warmed you through.

"What're you doing love? Thought you were gonna unwrap me after dinner?"

"Yeah well... I changed my mind. Maybe I want my dessert before dinner..."

Then you were both laughing, smiling into the kiss, wrapped up in each other's arms.

[another-chaotic-bisexual-vampire]

of course we'd never get to read / hear it, but i love imagining Jack Seward, with the patience of a saint, teaching Van Helsing how to use his phonograph the same way a child teaches their impatient parent how to use a computer

[lemon-wedges]

[Barok Van Zieks Voice]: Two tickets to the Barbie Movie.........Please.....

[kenobicoffee]

“well well well… if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions”

[mysteryincoutofcontext]

My response to the new velma show is whatever Skipper Shelton means by this

[lastpenaltytaker]

when your parents have different parenting styles:

( x / x )