#grape writes
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A Guide on How to (not) Have a Secret Relationship
a story of pure fluff about wwx and lwj being in a relationship during the cr era and wwx realizing that, no matter how shamelessly he acted around lwj, no one would suspect a thing. and so, he takes it as a challenge. inspired by this tweet
you can also find it on ao3
~○~○~
The first time they’d almost gotten caught had given Wei Wuxian quite the scare.
He’d been hanging on to Lan Wangji’s arm, pressed into his side, chattering his ear off about something mindless as they strolled from the Library Pavilion at the end of the day. Lan Wangji had been too cruel, ignoring him entirely until he’d finished all his copying, which, Lan Wangji should know by now, was a horrible, horrible punishment! How was Wei Wuxian meant to survive under such conditions!? Alas, he’d persisted, and, eventually, all his pages were filled.
He’d gotten a hum of approval at that with the slightest of nods and all the strenuous hours had become completely worth it. It was a bit ridiculous how much control Lan Wangji’s miniscule reactions had on him. He’d forfeit food and sleep and do nothing but write for days if, by the end of it, he’d be rewarded with a single smile.
Oh, he absolutely couldn’t let Lan Wangji find that out. Wei Wuxian enjoyed keeping up his image as an unruly menace, untamable by anyone, thank you very much! If Lan Wangji ever realized his crux, that would spell out horrors for his carefully worked-on reputation.
In any case, they’d done their work and Wei Wuxian was more than ready to retire to the dormitory where his friends waited for him. Before that, though, he’d take any opportunity he could get to be as close to Lan Wangji as possible, as every second spent in his company was a second well-spent. Even the ones where he was determined to make Wei Wuxian suffer into submission with his lack of attention. Seriously, they had hours to themselves, alone, where no one ever bothered them! Wei Wuxian could come up with a million different ways they could spend that time, each more fun than the last, but Lan Wangji would have none of it. Something about it being ‘inappropriate’ and ‘Wei Ying needed to complete his punishment’ or whatever. A real stick-in-the-mud, if you asked him.
As if any of that had been an issue that one time. When Wei Wuxian had brought it up, though, he’d thought he’d choke from how intense, if short, the silencing spell was. So, he’d kept quiet about it from then on, keeping the memory of Lan Wangji’s horribly flustered face as his compensation.
A wicked thought had sprung to Wei Wuxian’s mind on their walk and he’d leaned in closer, grinning as he purred it into Lan Wangji’s ear, watching with delight as the tip of it colored that adorable pink. He’d almost given his cheek a peck, then, when they rounded some bushes and all but ran into two guest disciples.
Wei Wuxian could have sworn his heart stopped right then and there.
And so there were the four of them, all frozen in their tracks, as the guest disciples (Wei Wuxian for the life of him couldn’t remember their names now) stared at him incredulously, his brows all but disappearing into their hairline. No doubt he made for quite the sight, all squashed up against Lan Wangji, his face a breath away from his skin. Their eyes then flickered to Lan Wangji, and, comically quick, all blood drained from their faces. Wei Wuxian barely blinked before the two scampered away, whispering something to each other.
Mildly surprised with his heart still pounding against his chest, Wei Wuxian leaned back to glance at Lan Wangji, to assess how worried they should be right now. What he found, instead, was a scowl so murderous it was truly a wonder how anyone witnessing it wouldn’t drop dead upon first sight. Wei Wuxian laughed, then, shaking his head.
“Aiyah, Lan Zhan, you probably frightened those poor disciples half to death with such a scary face!” he said as they continued walking. “I’d be surprised if they went on to tell anyone about what they saw after that.”
“Mn.” Was Lan Wangji’s only response as his face gradually returned to its neutral state.
Well, if Lan Wangji didn’t look worried, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t, either. Satisfied, he relaxed and continued his rambling. That is, until he noticed a frown etching in between his brows, the corners of his lips turning down just so. It was less anxious and more… dissatisfied, though, so Wei Wuxian wracked his brain for a few moments to figure out the cause. Then, as if a match struck, he realized he hadn’t gone through with what he’d meant to do before they were interrupted, had he?
With a coy smile, he sneaked one of his arms from Lan Wangji’s to his neck, winding around and bringing their heads closer. “Ah, Lan-er-gege, if you want a kiss, you can just say so,” he said before pressing his lips to his cheek, letting them linger before landing another kiss on his jaw, then under it, until he reached his pulse point, grinning against the delicate skin there. The only indication of this affecting Lan Wangji in any way was his quickened heartbeat and Wei Wuxian took great pleasure in feeling it against his lips.
Perhaps he was being far too bold, especially after what had just happened, but it was difficult to find it in himself to care in the moment. Even more so when Lan Wangji’s breath hitched and he grabbed Wei Wuxian by his arm, dragging him off the path behind some thicker shrubbery, Wei Wuxian’s laughter following.
When they finally parted ways, it was quickly approaching Hai. Still smiling and mildly flushed, a spring in his step, Wei Wuxian entered the dormitory, already anticipating the next day. His thoughts were quickly interrupted, though, by Nie Huaisang filling his vision.
“Wei-xiong!” he fretted, eyes full of concern, clutching at his fan. “Are you alright?”
Wei Wuxian stared at him, puzzled. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, really?” Surprise crossed Nie Huaisang’s face. “We heard Lan Wangji looked ready to kill you a while ago…”
“You won’t find me mourning when he finally does,” Jiang Cheng, the sweet soul, said, scowling, arms crossed. “Seriously, what do you think you’re doing, courting death like that?”
It took Wei Wuxian a few beats to understand what they were talking about. When he finally did, he couldn’t help breaking out into laughter, head thrown back. Oh, so those two disciples did talk, but they’d entirely misunderstood what was happening. To them, it probably looked like he was harassing Lan Wangji, his fierce glare a response to that. Well, he’d take that interpretation over the real one any time!
“Oh, Lan Zhan would never, he’s too nice to do that,” he said, grinning. “I think I’m growing on him.”
Of course, who would believe the Second Twin Jade would ever get involved with the troublemaker Wei Wuxian? Never had he thought his infamous reputation would work so well in his favor now.
Jiang Cheng scoffed at him, “Are you an idiot? You better stop harassing him before you get your bones broken. I won’t help you out of the ditch then.”
“Yes, you will,” Wei Wuxian said, shooting him an award-winning smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re braver than any of us, Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang sighed.
“He’s brainless is what he is.”
Wei Wuxian let Jiang Cheng simmer in his irritation, waving their concerns off, content to know their secret was still a secret. Even if Wei Wuxian got more adjectives out of it.
~
The second time it happened it still startled him, but much less.
They were in the Library Pavilion where Wei Wuxian was meant to continue his punishment. Keyword ‘meant’, as he was, once again, distracted, his brush laying beside a half-finished page as he played with Lan Wangji’s hair. Could he be blamed, with how silky and glossy and fun to twirl around between his fingers it was? Lan Wangji didn’t admonish him, either—he had a sneaking suspicion he enjoyed having his hair toyed with by Wei Wuxian quite a bit. He only continued copying his own text, allowing Wei Wuxian to have his way just this once.
“A braid would look so good on you, Lan Zhan,” he said, carding through the long locks. “Can I? Just a small one?”
Lan Wangji glanced at him then. “It is not the proper way to wear one’s hair.”
Wei Wuxian sighed, long and dramatic, “You’re so boring, Lan Zhan. C’mon, no one would see it, I’d hide it really well.” He put his hands together, pulling his best pleading face. “Please, Lan-er-gege? If you won’t like it, I’ll take it out.”
Lan Wangji only stared at him for a while longer before looking back to his text, resuming his strokes. It wasn’t a no, so Wei Wuxian took it as permission. Grinning, he found a lock that was sure to not catch any attention and got to work. Taking extra care to weave it as neatly as possible, he slowly worked down, humming a joyful melody to himself. Already he could tell it would look gorgeous on Lan Wangji.
It was then that one of the Lan disciples entered the library, a rare occurrence during this time of day. He froze in the threshold, staring at where Wei Wuxian had his hands in Lan Wangji’s hair. Heavy silence settled in the room before Wei Wuxian shook out of his stupor and beamed, boldness surging.
“Lan Zhan has such pretty hair, doesn’t he?” he chirped.
The disciple blinked in confusion, glancing from him to Lan Wangji, and whatever he saw there made him stutter out, “A-ah, yes, I suppose… Excuse me.”
He scurried off farther into the room, disappearing in between the shelves. Wei Wuxian waited, patient, for him to reemerge with some book. He cast another incredulous look Wei Wuxian’s way before swiftly leaving the library.
His reputation was sure to take another hit after this, too. He couldn’t help but laugh.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, they all think I’m harassing you, you know,” he said, amused, resuming his braiding. “You should break my finger or two to make it more believable.”
Lan Wangji furrowed his brows, a protest already on his lips, but Wei Wuxian beat him to it, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! How would I be able to finish my punishment with broken fingers?” He grinned. “You wouldn’t want that to happen. It’d be horrible if we had to spend more time together while I recovered.”
“I’m not breaking Wei Ying’s fingers,” he finally said.
“I know. You’re too serious sometimes,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “But really. I don’t think any of them would actually suspect anything, no matter how in their face we were. It’s kind of funny, actually.”
And then, he got an idea. It rarely meant good things when Wei Wuxian got an idea. This time was no different, and yet, now that he had it, he couldn’t let it go.
Oh, that could be so fun.
“Hey, Lan Zhan,” he sang, swaying from side to side, still focused on the braid. He was almost done by then. “How much do you think I could get away with?”
He could feel Lan Wangji’s questioning eyes on him.
“I kind of want to find out.”
“That… would be irresponsible.”
“It would!” Wei Wuxian laughed. “But consider how funny it’d be, freaking them all out. I’d be careful around your uncle, of course. I don’t want to get thrown out so soon,” he chuckled. He lifted his gaze to meet Lan Wangji’s. “It’s actually not that bad here.”
Lan Wangji’s eyes softened at that, a rare, fascinating sort of thing, before he turned his attention back to his text, robbing Wei Wuxian of the privilege of their attention.
In a few moments’ time, the braid was finished. Beaming, he held it up for Lan Wangji to see, asking for his opinion. When Lan Wangji just stared at the delicate little thing woven into his hair, not saying anything, Wei Wuxian sighed and asked if he wanted to take it out.
“Leave it,” Lan Wangji said, quiet.
And so Wei Wuxian did, all too delighted with himself.
~
At the start, Wei Wuxian didn’t do anything particularly outrageous. Only to test the waters, as it were. Nothing too out of the ordinary for his flirty reputation.
“Lan Zhan, you’re so beautiful today!”
“Did you see how precisely he moved with his sword? Lan Zhan’s incredible!”
“Lan Zhan, your hands are so pretty!”
“I bet Lan Zhan has the sweetest smile.”
“Lan Zhan’s music could make me cry with how heavenly it is!”
Mostly, his gushing regardless of time and place only served to annoy Jiang Cheng. Others would throw him odd glances, occasionally agreeing with the sentiment, but only when Lan Wangji wasn’t around. If he was, they’d cautiously look between the two, almost expecting something to happen. Nothing ever did, of course. Nothing they would notice—Wei Wuxian took great satisfaction in seeing his ears flush just so when a particular compliment got to him.
One time, he was feeling particularly audacious. After going through some fight routines, a few disciples engaged in practical matches while the others observed. When Lan Wangji stood victorious having barely broken a sweat, Wei Wuxian sighed in adoration, clasping his hands in front of him.
“Ah, my Lan Zhan’s the best, isn’t he?” he swooned, a bit louder than necessary.
Jiang Cheng immediately swirled around to him and hit the back of his head, hissing, “Watch your damn mouth, you idiot!”
Laughing as he rubbed the sore spot, Wei Wuxian didn’t miss the glare Lan Wangji sent in their direction. Whether intentionally or not, he played his part perfectly—everyone would assume he was scowling at the outrageous comment Wei Wuxian made, but their eyes didn’t meet. Instead, they were fixated on Jiang Cheng on his right. In fact, Jiang Cheng, too, was indispensable in Wei Wuxian’s scheme—whenever Wei Wuxian said something shameless, Jiang Cheng would react with irritation, and Lan Wangji would, in turn, glower at him. And since Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were more often than not by each other’s side, it was easy to mistake the glares’ intended recipient.
It was too easy.
And so, soon enough, Wei Wuxian stepped up his game.
(Although, he would say, sometimes his comments would lead to unexpectedly exciting things. The one from the fights in particular earned him a heated session in the jingshi under the blanket of the night, with hushed words of ‘yours, mine’ exchanged between their shared breaths. So, he didn’t exactly complain.)
He started stealing touches here and there. A tug on Lan Wangji’s arm. A quick hug around his shoulders. Picking fallen leaves from his hair. Playing with his hair. It was widely known, or believed, that the Second Twin Jade hated physical contact, so the bemused looks Wei Wuxian would get from his compliments turned to concerned and bewildered ones once he started invading Lan Wangji’s space more and more. It was hilarious, the way their eyes would grow in shock when he would brush a stray strand from Lan Wangji’s face, entirely unworried for what fate his shameful hand could meet.
Once during class, he thought he could push the ‘shameless’ accusation a bit more still. And so, when Lan Qiren had his back turned, he twirled around to face Lan Wangji and, with many eyes on him, Lan Wangji’s included, blew him a kiss.
The entire room held a collective breath as they waited for Lan Wangji to react because, surely, this time Wei Wuxian had gone too far. To everyone’s shock, though no one’s as strong as Wei Wuxian’s, Lan Wangji… caught it. And then, entirely unperturbed, he turned back to the front of the class, once more a dutiful student.
It took a lot for Wei Wuxian not to break out into laughter then and there.
Luckily for both of them, this incident quickly got explained away by ‘Lan Wangji crushing his advances without even sparing Wei Wuxian a thought’ and similar notions. Wei Wuxian truly was having the time of his life.
At some point, the rumors got split. Some claimed Wei Wuxian was only teasing Lan Wangji because he was a menace who enjoyed living on the edge, while others began speculating perhaps he’d genuinely fallen for the cool and unapproachable Twin Jade. The second group pitied him and sighed in sympathy at Lan Wangji’s cold responses, some urging him to just give up already before his heart got broken. He’d only smile at them and proclaim, far too dramatically, his love wasn’t that easily extinguished. The first group could do nothing more than pray he’d have a peaceful afterlife.
Wei Wuxian knew they were all wondering how Lan Wangji wasn’t beating him into the ground by now. How was he even allowing any of these transgressions. None of them voiced it, though; surely, he had his reasons, and, surely, questioning them could spell their own end. Nie Huaisang did, on occasion, but Wei Wuxian laughed it off easily.
“He probably likes me and is too shy to admit it!”
That earned him another smack from Jiang Cheng, and he’d feel bad about causing his shidi so much distress if it wasn’t so entertaining.
One evening as he was laying in Lan Wangji’s lap in the jingshi, eyes closed in contentment as Lan Wangji absentmindedly stroked his hair, his attention on the book he was reading, Wei Wuxian had a thought about the reason, too.
“You know, Lan Zhan, I’m a bit surprised you haven’t told me off,” he said, breaking the tranquil silence. “I’m acting really irresponsible, aren’t I?”
“Mn,” he hummed.
Wei Wuxian opened his eyes to look up at him, a cheeky smile on his lips. “Lan-er-gege, could it be that you like the attention?”
Lan Wangji glanced down at him, though didn’t answer. Wei Wuxian caught a lock of his silky hair and twirled it around his fingers. “Does my Lan Zhan like it when I’m being so shameless?” He traveled his hand up to Lan Wangji’s jaw, stroking it with his fingertips, feather-light. “Does he like it when I let everyone know how much I adore him?”
With his thumb, he pulled at Lan Wangji’s lower lip, just a bit, just because he could. Lan Wangji, with his eyes all but glowing, turned his head down and pressed a kiss against his palm, gentle, but scorching, and Wei Wuxian could have sworn his face erupted in flames. How, even after everything, Lan Wangji could fluster him so easily was beyond him.
Lan Wangji properly bent down then, his dark hair cascading around them, creating a little space separated from the rest of the world. Wei Wuxian, grinning, shifted his arm so it’d wrap around his neck and brought him closer, as much as their positions would allow, lifting his head up just enough to seal their lips. Soft and slow, Lan Wangji moved against him, despite the odd angle, and if Wei Wuxian died right then and there, he’d be content. What more could life offer, really?
“I’m not hearing a ‘no’,” he murmured between breaths.
“Wei Ying talks too much,” Lan Wangji responded, voice low and rough.
Wei Wuxian giggled, breaking the kiss off as he shifted his position, sitting up and sliding into Lan Wangji’s lap, arms wound around his neck. Lan Wangji settled his hands on Wei Wuxian’s hips, pressing into them with obvious intent. A shudder was already building in his bones as he leaned in.
“Yeah?” he said, his breath ghosting Lan Wangji’s lips. “Make me stop then, er-gege.”
~
One morning, Wei Wuxian got a sick, sick idea.
Lan Wangji had multiple sets of robes. He didn’t need all of them at the same time. So, would it really be that bad if Wei Wuxian borrowed one on their rest day when Lan Qiren was away (he’d rather not give the man such an early qi deviation)? Okay, maybe not all the layers, but at least the outer one?
It’d be his greatest transgression yet.
When Wei Wuxian showed his plan off, twirling around in front of Lan Wangji in his own robe, he was thrilled to see the stutter of breath, the way the bright gold darkened before he tore his eyes away, his throat bobbing. He should have worn Lan Wangji’s garments sooner.
“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, what do you think?” he asked, all smiles and giggles.
Lan Wangji took a slow, calming breath, before speaking, voice quiet, head still turned to the side, “Wei Ying looks… good.”
Heart fluttering, Wei Wuxian hopped over to Lan Wangji and hung around his neck, lightly swaying their bodies.
“Hey, er-gege, play with me today?” he hummed. “If you catch me, you’ll get a prize.”
Lan Wangji wrapped his arms around Wei Wuxian’s waist, bringing him closer. “Running is prohibited in Cloud Recesses.”
“So is wearing the Lan family clothing without belonging to it,” he grinned in response before dropping his voice to a low thrum. “What will it be, oh mighty Lan Wangji? Will you let this unruly one go unpunished? How will you, if you don’t catch him?”
The hold around his body tightened. Lan Wangji’s lips parted a minuscule amount, his lids drooping as he leaned in. Wei Wuxian could taste his breath, only a hair’s width separating them, but before that final distance closed, he twisted out of Lan Wangji’s hold with a laugh.
“Nope! You’ll have to play with me first!” he declared as he jumped out of Lan Wangji’s instinctual grab for him. “No kisses until you catch me!”
Cackling, he fled the jingshi without bothering to look back.
Though it was still early in the morning, many of the disciples were already out and about. He paid their bewildered glances no mind as he dashed past them, focused on putting his head start to good use. He didn’t actually believe Lan Wangji would chase after him just like that; he still had a reputation to uphold, but best to put some distance between them regardless.
It wasn’t long before he found Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang and a few other guest disciples skipping rocks on one of the bridges, seeing who can make theirs go the farthest. Wei Wuxian slowed to a stop by them, leaning against the railing to catch his breath. Jiang Cheng was already throwing him suspicious glances.
“What did you get into this time?” he asked, letting his rock fly. It went farther than his last one did.
“Aiyah, Jiang Cheng, you always assume the worst of me,” Wei Wuxian complained, smoothing some of the crinkles from the garment. He was determined to return it to Lan Wangji in the same pristine condition he got it in, though how well that would go remained to be seen.
He frowned at him. “So, what, you’re saying you didn’t get into some stupid trouble again?”
“Ah, well…” Wei Wuxian chuckled, a bit awkward, but before he could say anything else Nie Huaisang gasped, his hand flying to his mouth.
“Wei-xiong!” he exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. “Are those Lan Wangji’s robes!?”
“Oh, you noticed!” Wei Wuxian laughed in delight, giving his incredulous audience a little spin. “They suit me pretty well, don’t you think?”
The speed at which Jiang Cheng’s face changed colors couldn’t be healthy for his heart. The other disciples only looked upon him in varying degrees of horror, some already taking steps away as if by proximity alone they’d be incriminated as well.
“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng growled, dangerously red. “Do you seriously wish to die that badly!?”
Nie Huaisang waved his fan against his flushed face, caught between marvel and distress. “Wei-xiong, even for you, stealing another man’s clothes… Not just any man’s, Lan Wangji’s! If he sees you like this, oh, I’m scared to even think about it!”
“Then don’t,” Wei Wuxian beamed. “Besides, as long as he doesn’t catch me, I’ll be fine!”
“Why do you insist on harassing him so much!?” Jiang Cheng barked. “Mark my words, Wei Wuxian, when he aims his sword at your throat, I won’t stand in its way!”
“Ah, ah, Jiang Cheng, how could you be so cruel to your shixiong?”
Whatever insult was bound to be thrown at him next was cut off by one of the disciples yelping, their frightened eyes fixed somewhere over Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. Quickly, he followed their line of sight, only to see the unmistakable form of Lan Wangji emerging from below the hill, his pace brisk, face set into hard lines. How did he catch up so fast without running!?
“Oh, that’s not good,” Wei Wuxian giggled, high-pitched, and ducked behind the small group of students. “I’m not here!”
The disciples all exchanged glances before moving away from him as one, leaving him exposed in the middle of the bridge. Wei Wuxian gasped in mock hurt.
“Jiang Cheng, Nie-xiong, even you!?”
“It’s about time you pay for your nonsense,” Jiang Cheng snapped, arms crossed.
“Sorry, Wei-xiong, Lan Wangji is already scary, but when he’s angry…” Nie Huaisang shivered, fanning himself faster. “Maybe if you gave him back his robe now he’d show mercy?..”
“He wouldn’t deserve it.”
As much as Wei Wuxian would love to stand around and chat, Lan Wangji wasn’t slowing down, so he was forced to start backing away. “To think you’d abandon me so quickly!..” He sighed, much too dramatic. “Pray for me, then, at least that!”
Without waiting around for a, no doubt, biting response, he turned on his heel and sprinted in the other direction.
As much as he enjoyed freaking the other disciples out, he did actually want Lan Wangji to properly chase him. To really get him riled up. He’d never let himself go so close to Cloud Recesses, and so, Wei Wuxian led him away, towards the mountains and scattered forests. He allowed himself to get lost in it, in the thrill, and imagined he truly was on the run from something dangerous, that if he didn’t get away, he’d get eaten.
It only made the blood in his veins pump harder, growing hot, the grin on his lips bordering on delirious. He did love a good chase.
This far away, he could indulge in it.
Or, at least, that was what he’d thought, until he emerged to a path, intending to cross it, and spotted, to his fright, Lan Xichen descending the mountain. It was too late for him to try and hide as their eyes met immediately and so he screeched to a halt, panting, and dropped into a bow.
“Zewu-jun,” he greeted, the word a bit too breathy.
“Wei-gongzi, I didn’t expect to find you here so far away,” Lan Xichen responded in that smooth voice of his, the ever-present polite smile gracing his lips. He walked towards him until a more comfortable distance separated them.
Wei Wuxian straightened, pulling what he hoped to be a non-suspicious grin in turn. “Ah, yes, I wanted to explore the area a bit more! It’s very beautiful out here.”
“Indeed it is,” he said, nodding. His eyes regarded him more carefully, from his tousled hair, puffy breaths, to the robe he was donning, his brows lifting in mild surprise. It was then that Wei Wuxian remembered why he’d been running in the first place and mortification seized him. Heat quickly rose up his neck to his face, and his smile now no doubt looked less convincing.
While acting shamelessly around his peers was amusing to no end, he had no idea how Lan Xichen, the esteemed Zewu-jun, would react to such behavior, especially when directed at his beloved brother. And this, dressing up in Lan Wangji’s clothing, certainly had to cross… some line. Cold sweat broke out across his heated back—would Lan Xichen admonish him? Report him to Lan Qiren, all but ensuring either weeks of punishment or an expulsion? Or would he wait to see what Lan Wangji would decide what to do with him?
To his great surprise, Lan Xichen did none of those things. Instead, his polite smile turned genuine, one that reached his eyes, as he said, “I’m glad to see you and Wangji are getting along.”
Wei Wuxian, in his shock, had to take a few seconds to regain his ability to speak.
“A-Ah, ah, yeah! Yeah, Lan Zhan, he’s…” he stammered, words tripping over each other both in his mouth and his head. He did, however, manage to beam at him. “Lan Zhan’s the best.”
Lan Xichen chuckled, “I’m sure he shares the sentiment towards you as well.”
And with that, he nodded, and resumed his walk, entirely unconcerned of the state he’d left Wei Wuxian in. Now his face was burning for an entirely different reason, and he couldn’t stop smiling, suddenly too giddy to stay in one place. It was something hugely relieving, knowing that Lan Xichen, Lan Wangji’s closest family, didn’t… oppose whatever he thought was going on between them. If anything, he sounded almost approving. Which was insane to think about! Sure, he’d never gotten the notion Lan Xichen disliked him, necessarily, but it was an entirely different matter for him to accept Wei Wuxian. Perhaps he didn’t realize the extent of their relationship, not yet, but it sure was reassuring.
Somehow… Lan Xichen as much as suspecting something, and looking happy, approving, welcoming about it—it made whatever he and Lan Wangji had more real.
Wei Wuxian got a bit dizzy thinking about it.
He must have stood there, in the middle of the path, like an idiot for a good while before a soft shuffling from behind caught his attention, making him barrel straight back to reality. He whipped around to find Lan Wangji only a few paces away, scaring the hell out of him. With a very dignified yelp, Wei Wuxian took off, scrambling for his dear life. Unfortunately, with how disheveled his mind still was, heart all the way up in his throat, his body worked against him and it took only a short while for Lan Wangji to catch up with him. At that point, however, he couldn’t find it in himself to mind that much.
Lan Wangji grasped at the back of his robe, intending to yank him back, but Wei Wuxian chose that moment to trip over the forest floor, sending both of them tumbling down onto each other. Swiftly, Lan Wangji flipped them around so that Wei Wuxian was on his back with Lan Wangji on top, pinning him to the ground with his legs. Wei Wuxian tried to push him off but Lan Wangji caught his wrists and held them down above his head, effectively immobilizing him.
And so, Wei Wuxian resorted to screaming.
“Lan Wangji! So ill-mannered, unhand me immediately!” he wailed, thrashing in Lan Wangji’s hold, to no avail. “This is assault, don’t you know!? What will the people think? Who would believe it that the virtuous Lan Wangji could be such a brute! Oh, what will they—”
He didn’t get to finish his complaint as he found his mouth full of Lan Wangji’s. Caught mid-word, he’d left it open for the taking, and Lan Wangji didn’t hesitate to seize the opportunity. Fast and needy, he barely gave Wei Wuxian room to breathe, and he struggled to match Lan Wangji’s pace, for more reasons than one. One after another, Lan Wangji pulled small noises from Wei Wuxian’s throat, desperate, breathy sounds, catching them all. He pushed deeper, as much as it was possible to go, and Wei Wuxian thought he could drown like this. Somehow, despite long since losing count of how much they’d kissed, every time still felt like the first one. If not in quality, as Lan Wangji was a faster learner than even Wei Wuxian, then certainly in feeling, with how hard his chest pounded, how scorching heat spread all the way to his fingertips, how all points of skin contact tingled with sharp energy. Wei Wuxian tugged at his arms, yearning to bury them in Lan Wangji’s hair, pull him closer, but Lan Wangji’s grip was unrelenting. If anything, his fingers dug into Wei Wuxian’s wrists harder, and he hoped it’d leave marks.
When Lan Wangji was satisfied with the writhing mess he’d reduced Wei Wuxian to, he pulled back with a bite on Wei Wuxian’s lower lip, just enough for them to share the air.
“Causing noise is prohibited,” Lan Wangji murmured, his lips brushing over Wei Wuxian’s as they moved.
Wei Wuxian didn’t remind him they were just out of the bounds of Cloud Recesses, so that didn’t apply here. He only stared up, dazed, trying to catch his breath.
“Yeah, well,” he exhaled. “I wouldn’t have screamed if you didn’t tackle me to the ground, you know.”
Lan Wangji dragged his lips from Wei Wuxian’s to his jaw. “Running is prohibited.”
Giggles rose in Wei Wuxian’s throat, ones that were quickly replaced by quiet gasps as Lan Wangji moved to the junction of his jaw and neck and nipped on the sensitive skin there. Wei Wuxian turned his head to the side, inviting him in, letting all the small, whiny noises bubble up as Lan Wangji traveled down at an agonizing pace. So gentle now, only a graze of his teeth, a flick of his tongue, a stark contrast to the way he ravaged Wei Wuxian’s mouth just moments prior.
“What else, Lan-er-gege?” he mumbled, words running off without his will. “What else?”
Lan Wangji hummed against his neck, “Excessive exultation is prohibited.”
Wei Wuxian, the devil that he was, laughed. “Oh, c’mon, Lan Zhan, even you have to admit that one’s just stupid.”
He didn’t get a response. Instead, Lan Wangji gathered his wrists in one hand, holding them down with ease, as the other ran up and down Wei Wuxian’s side, catching on the robe.
“Shameless behavior…” he started, low and rough, “is prohibited.”
Wei Wuxian exhaled, a shaky sort of thing, as he tried, his head spinning, “I don’t think I’m the one being shameless here, er-gege.” Then, a thought struck him, and his lips curled into a grin. “Or… are you talking about me wearing your clothes?”
Lan Wangji lifted his head to look down at Wei Wuxian, his light eyes now darkened, the intensity of his stare burning right to Wei Wuxian’s soul. He swallowed, his heart fluttering in his throat, and he pulled on his wrists once more.
“Lan-er-gege, please,” he pleaded. “Let me hold you.”
He seemed to consider it for a moment, but his gaze then melted and he eased his vice grip. Wei Wuxian slipped his arms out and wrapped them around his neck, burying his hands in his hair, thrilled to finally be able to twirl it between his fingers.
“Do you like it, Lan Zhan?” he whispered, tracing one lock down until he reached the side of his face. “Seeing me in your robes?” He smiled, then, cradling his cheek, running his thumb over the skin below his eye. “I think they suit me. I’d wear it all the time if it didn’t risk giving your uncle a qi deviation,” he sighed, a little melodramatic.
Lan Wangji’s hand on his side slowed to a stop then, his eyes turning somewhat conflicted. Wei Wuxian scrunched his face up in confusion. “What?”
“It…” Lan Wangji started, uncharacteristically hesitant. “...wouldn’t be an issue… if one was part of the Lan family.”
Wei Wuxian stared up at him in complete silence. The more he gaped, the more nervous Lan Wangji grew, before finally he shook his head. “Forget—”
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian cut him off, which he never did, but right now he could hardly think. His mind had screeched to a halt and he was having trouble remembering how his lungs were meant to work. “Did you just suggest I marry you?”
Lan Wangji, bless his soul, looked a bit ill. Then, he shut his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and steeled himself. When he reopened them again, they burned with renewed vigor. “Yes. If Wei Ying would have me.”
Wei Wuxian couldn’t help himself—he broke out into laughter. Gleeful, uncontrolled laughter. He shook with it so much that only due to Lan Wangji’s hold on him did he not start rolling around. Finally, when it settled enough for him to get a word in, he wiped a tear away before settling both of his hands on either side of Lan Wangji’s face.
“Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan,” he sang, loving the way it sounded on his tongue. “But we’re so young! Do you really want to tie yourself down to me already? What if you get older and a beautiful maiden comes along that sweeps you off your feet? I can’t give you children, Lan Zhan, you know that.”
Lan Wangji’s beautiful face grew hard, lips setting into a firm line, and he shook his head. “I’ll never want anyone else. Only Wei Ying.”
“Those are some mighty words, Lan Zhan. Can I really hold you to them?”
“Mn. I do not lie.”
He giggled, a little delirious. A lot.
“What about your uncle? How would he ever agree?” he asked.
“He would eventually.”
“I think you underestimate how much he dislikes me,” he laughed. “Marrying off his precious nephew to the one stain on his teaching career? How could he!”
“I would convince him,” Lan Wangji declared, and just from the steely determination in his voice Wei Wuxian believed him.
“And Zewu-jun? What would he think?”
Lan Wangji frowned a little. “Brother believes it’s too soon,” he muttered.
It took Wei Wuxian a short while to register those words and the meaning behind them. When he did, he all but shrieked, “You’ve already told him about it!?”
No wonder Lan Xichen looked so unconcerned! Was there anything Lan Wangji didn’t share with his brother!?
“Did you not want him to know?” Lan Wangji asked, brows furrowing in concern.
“No, no! I just didn’t expect it!” Really, now he was even more embarrassed about before. “But he’s… he’s not against it?”
“No.” Lan Wangji turned his head to lay a kiss on one of Wei Wuxian’s palms. “He knows there is no one else for me but Wei Ying.” He looked down at him through his thick, black lashes. “My family will agree. But what does Wei Ying think?”
Wei Wuxian couldn’t take it anymore—he pulled Lan Wangji down and crashed his lips against his to show him exactly what he thought.
“Lan Zhan,” he sighed in between them, letting his fingers card through his hair, one hand settling on the back of Lan Wangji’s neck. The hold on his side tightened, strong enough to leave imprints even through all the layers of cloth. “My Lan Zhan. My beautiful, perfect Lan Zhan.”
Lan Wangji hummed, low and guttural, his claims on Wei Wuxian’s mouth never-ending. If they weren’t, Wei Wuxian thought he would die.
“Only Lan Zhan. I only want Lan Zhan,” he managed to murmur.
Lan Wangji drank his little whispers like a man dying from thirst, growing more enthusiastic by the moment to take what he had earned, what he was now promised.
A thought struck Wei Wuxian and he gasped, tugging Lan Wangji back.
"What is it?" Lan Wangji asked, worry lacing his voice.
"I just remembered!" Wei Wuxian said, breaking into a wide grin. "You won the game. Congratulations, Lan Zhan. You shall now receive your prize."
With that, he leaned up and pecked the tip of his nose. When he laid back down, Lan Wangji had a look in his eyes as he stared at Wei Wuxian which should only be reserved for the starriest of nights. Then, incredulously, so much so that Wei Wuxian believed his sight had to be deceiving him, his lips curled into a tiny, soft smile.
Reserved for him. Only for him.
Perhaps Wei Wuxian’s wild ideas weren’t always so bad.
#mdzs#wangxian#wangxian fanfic#wei wuxian#wei ying#lan wangji#lan zhan#mo dao zu shi#the untamed#long post#wrote this in two days idk the demons possessed me i think#haven't written proper fluff in so long and i've MISSED IT#literally the best feeling#honestly the cr era is my absolute favorite and i wanna write so many love letters to it.....#don't quote me on the clothing part tho idk#also i do not advocate for getting engaged within a couple of months of knowing each other at 16#❗❗❗#unless u know it's the love of ur life then it's okay#also literally do not ask me how they ended up here IT'S IRRELEVANT !! they just did okay#grape writes
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what if the perseverance soul was a teacher wondering what the hell happened to all their damn students who keep going missing
#I mean this isn't my version of perserverance#but i'm throwing this out there if someone else wants to write it or something#my perserverance is an art kid#grape flavored ramblings#undertale#perserverance soul#undertale human souls
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A UPDATE ON MY REAL LIFE JASON TODD he has dark hair is muscular his dad is rich has three brothers when i saw him walk through the door i about lost it and he was dressed what i imagine jason to when he isn’t on patrol and he introduced himself AND THEN HE MADE A BOOK REFERENCE AND I LAUGHED AND HE THEN ASKED WHAT I WAS READING AND I TOLD HIM A BOOK ABOUT J CREW AND HE SAID I READ ASWELL BUT OLDER BOOKS and i was like that’s so cool i’ve always wanted to read old literature books and he said i could let you borrow one if you wanted MIND YOU THIS WAS ALL ON MY FIRST DAY MEETING HIM AND WE TALKED THE WHOLE CLASS PERIOD AND NOW WE ARE HANGING OUT OVER THE WEEKEND IVE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE ALL MY FRIENDS SAID I HAD HEARTS IN MY EYES LIKE SCREW FOOTBALL GUYS THIS CHEERLEADER WANTS A REAL LIFE JASON TODD
#i feel like me eating the grapes on new years worked#gleason’s thoughts 🎀🫡#jason todd#jason todd fluff#red hood fluff#jason todd soft#red hood#batman#jason peter todd#jason todd headcanon#write more jason todd fluff please#jason todd imagines#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x you#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#redhood soft
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alrite
I just KNOW this bitch had an extra croissant for lunch today to celebrate the ultimate demise of all mages (knowing full well what would go down later that night) 🤡 You know, as a treat for the special occasion…
#damn a THIRD croissant to go with his usual 16 grapes and cafe au lait???#rollo living at the height of luxury…#twst#twisted wonderland#Rollo Flamme#disney twisted wonderland#spoilers#notes from the writing raven
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Something about having a cute little sweet evening with my pup filled with baking and fucking sounds so fucking enticing. I get so excited just thinking of kissing and hugging him from behind, nuzzling my face into his back, setting little playful bites on their neck before finally bending him over the table once our treats are in the oven—
Slapping his ass and spanking his dripping cunt with a wooden spoon as I grip his pretty puppy hips and claw nice achey scratches down his outer thighs. Telling him to stay and speak like a good puppy as I shove my cock into his ass, thrusting a bottle into his cunt, fucking both his holes while he barks and moans for me like the good obedient doggie he is~
Afterwards I'll have him sat on my lap all cozy, snuggled up against my chest with my cock in his cunt while we happily giggle and decorate the lil cookies we baked~
#xochimilli writes#🫀puppy#i wanna make carrot n grape shaped cookies !!!!!#queer nsft#ftm top#ftm dom#t4t nsft#bd/sm kink#bd/sm pet#petpl4y#petpl@y#pup nsft#nsft puppy#puppy ns/fw#puppy nsft#nsft pet#bd/sm master#ftm nsft#good boy#bd/sm puppy#puppy sub#daddy k!nk#daddy's pet#daddy's puppy#bd/sm daddy#queer couple#queer ns/fw#trans nsft#bd/sm blog#t4t ns/fw
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illustration for class about transness, the divine alchemy of the self and the bravery of coming out
ko-fi
#lgbt art#artists on tumblr#trans pride#trans art#trans positivity#my art#painting#ft. the uranian symbol and grapes and butterflies because we love our throwbacks to historical trans identity#anyway this ended up being very personal to me and i had to write a whole paper to present to my class and it was quite nervewracking
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Can I maybe have something with HC Sky or Legend and... fun themed bandaids?
(As for something good... I’m happy I get to hang out with a doggo this weekend! Though I did have to run up the hill through some hail earlier to put her inside >_<)
-Sky Floor
"How did you manage to cut your finger at work?" Sky asked. "And then not notice?"
"I did notice," Legend snapped. "You think I wouldn't feel it every damn time I washed my hands? Do you know how often we wash our hands at work?"
Sky watched him, unconvinced, before reaching into his satchel. "Lucky for you, I carry a first aid kit."
"It's full," Legend noted.
"Yeah?"
"So you've never used it."
"Everyone's a critic," Sky sighed with a small laugh. "Just for that you get this one."
Legend blinked. "Wait. This isn't your first aid kit, is it?"
"It is."
"But it's the one Twilight gave you."
Sky's smile grew. "Yes."
Legend watched him, eyebrows steadily crinkling together in suspicion, until he looked down at the bandaid Sky lovingly wrapped around his finger. "Donald Duck?! Really??"
"It's appropriate," Sky quipped cheerily before jumping out of reach as Legend attempted to shove him.
#you ask skye answers#lovely peggy#writing#writing prompt#lu in healthcare#lu legend#lu sky#I agree with Sky I think it's appropriate for him#HC Legend in particular is quite the sour grape lol#And YES doggies make everything better <3#except for hail oof
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Obikin His Girl Friday. Is this anything?
(Obi-Wan as the intrepid reporter on his last day at work before getting married and moving upstate, insisting he won't miss the job at all and is actually looking forward to being a stay-at-home husband for a while, thank you very much. Anakin as both his editor/boss and ex-husband, throwing one last juicy story his way, ostensibly as a 'one last hurrah' present but not-so-secretly mostly to try to convince Obi-Wan to stay and get back together. There's a murder suspect, Anakin gets Obi-Wan's fiance 'accidentally' arrested, they uncover a sinister plot involving crooked cops and politicians...and obviously Obi-Wan and Anakin get back together. Obviously. )
(In fairness this could also work with the roles reversed. But I like Anakin as the jealous ex.)
#fic idea#I just love screwball comedies okay#also trying to work out a possible Philadelphia Story AU#not like I need any more AUs lol#write the fics you've already got Grape#obikin
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thinking about Ava saying she doesn’t know what she likes to wear because she never got to pick her own clothes so when Ava and Beatrice got to the alps they had to get clothes and stuff which probably made Ava really anxious so I just imagine Beatrice letting her try new stuff often so like at first they buy a couple of fits for Ava but go to the store like thrice a week to slowly get her to build a style she’s comfortable with
[and bea probably hates shopping for clothes, but seeing the little sparkle in Ava’s eyes when she wears something she genuinely likes and her cute little twirls when she’s showing them to her are worth it]
[update: I did it]
#i am in fact one grape away from writing this as a one shot#ava silva#ava x beatrice#avatrice#save warrior nun#warrior nun#sister beatrice#wlw#alba baptista#fuck netflix#kristina tonteri young
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Leo does a little bit of trolling ;)
#happy new year#rottmnt#new years#the maid dress isn’t making him nervous btw#it’s the grapes lol#he would kill it in heels#Leosagi#leoichi#nfwtl#I’m writing but I’m struggling#my art#I had to#rottmnt Leo#he does a little bit of trolling#Usagi#usagi yuichi#the maid dress will never die#lifeguard au
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X-Files OctoberFicFest Day 11: Sandwich
This year, I'm using the October 2022 prompts from @artpromptcal.
"Top five sandwiches."
"Mulder, I don't remember a single sandwich I've eaten."
"Not a singular sandwich in the bunch?"
"Whatever greasy breakfast food you can stuff into a bagel to soothe a hangover. I don't think that counts."
"The platonic ideal of a sandwich. Singular only in its universality. Nourishes the convalescent body and the bewildered, booze-soaked mind. Also a cop out."
"But you can easily recall five sandwiches so incredible that they're indelibly etched into your memories?"
"Five: pb&j on white bread the only time it was ever warm enough to play pickup baseball on my birthday."
"Strawberry?"
"Grape. Obviously, Scully."
"Bill hated grape."
"That explains everything about him. Four: my first real Reuben at a New York deli."
"Naturally."
"Naturally. Three: a French dip in a pub after I got lost on some English seaside walk that was supposed to be easy."
"They know how to walk, the English."
"Mad about it. Two: merguez on a baguette in Paris. "
"Merguez?"
"It's a North African sausage. Lamb and harissa. A fiery personality, much like yourself."
"A singular compliment, in that I have never received it before."
"Those who have eyes to see, Scully."
"What's the number one sandwich?"
"Where's your patience? You can't be tired of merguez already. I've got a killer couscous recipe."
"I must have left it at the last gas station."
"Lest I stoke that fire, I will tell thee anon. Number one is a certain notable sandwich of liverwurst fashioned. Humble, and yet: that sandwich saved my life."
"You didn't even eat that sandwich."
"No, but it enabled me to survive to eat more sandwiches. So in a way, it was fate."
"I would say I didn't take you for a sandwich sentimentalist, but we both know that's not true."
"You can take me anywhere, Scully."
"I'm not sure that's the way that goes."
"You'd be surprised."
"Anyway. I'm glad you're a connoisseur of liverwurst. Maybe that's my number one sandwich."
"We can share it."
#x-files octoberficfest#octoberficfest#my fic sort of#leiascully fic#writing this on my phone waiting for a show to start? sure#anti-grape jelly coalition#now with the typos fixed
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2. Enslaved
Previous
Sector -300 +145 outskirts, +28 Rotations and 2 Deci-rotations since invasion start - ~253ly from Ka’Lagrath space, aboard the Slaver ship Mutiny
We had five new prisoners today. Unlike the other eighty-some individuals enslaved aboard this ship, including myself, these creatures were not acquired (as the Ka’Lagrath like to say) through one of their numerous “protection contracts.” Instead, they had been onboard an exploration vessel belonging to a civilization the Ka’Lagrath were supposedly at war with. The Mutiny had been redirected from my species’ homeworld to rendezvous with the Ka’Lagrath warship responsible for successfully “acquiring” these new prisoners.
As the new prisoners were transferred the same hold cell as I, I overhead the warship’s guard warning the Mutiny’s guards to be careful of these new prisoners, as they were supposedly very much against this whole enslavement thing, and would do anything in their power to escape. I was somewhat excited about this news, as I doubted the Ka’Lagrath would be willing to kill, or even gravely harm such rare and therefore “valuable” prisoners - which would make an escape attempt much easier.
My hope was that these new arrivals would be kind enough to break out all of the other prisoners, myself included, were they to be successful. Furthermore, as the Ka’Lagrath were unsure of their exact biology, any attempts at subduing them with gas would be extremely limited in scope. However, these hopes were quickly dashed, as the new arrivals did little but sit in silent unease.
The prisoners were certainly interesting in appearance, they were bipedal and had 2 slender appendages that appeared to be for grabbing/manipulating objects - in this regard they were extremely similar to their Ka’Lagrath captors - however, unlike the Ka’Lagrath, they had long ‘fur’ on their heads, and their skin was something of a tan-ish red color - although this was somewhat obscured by how bright they appeared in infrared.
Curious about them, I attempted to strike up a conversation with them. As I was a (now former) diplomat, I figured there was a good chance we shared at least one language in common. Unfortunately, of the 15 languages I knew, we shared none in common.
It’s worth noting at this point that our species, the Myilrs, are occasionally born with what one might call psychic powers. These powers are both very versatile - allowing communication across species in the absence of a shared language - and very limited - as only very, very few individuals outside the Mailrs were actually compatible. I was fortunate enough to be born with these powers, however, given that the Ka’Lagrath had a keen interest in these powers, were I to be found out, I would likely to be killed and dissected.
Were I to do this, I’d need to be careful. If I extended the range too far, and a compatible Ka’Lagrath guard was within that range, I’d be found out. If they happened to install any anti-psychic countermeasures, I’d get a splitting headache, once again giving me away. Of course, there was also a possibility that none of the five individuals were compatible, their species was completely unknown to me, so it wasn’t as if I knew how compatible their species was on average.
After mulling over it for around a third of a deci-rotation, I made up my mind. Closing my eyes I began to concentrate…
Can you hear me? I asked. The reply was immediate.
What? Who are you? Responded one of the individuals. Their “voice” (if you could call it that) was somewhat high-pitched, it sounded similar to the natural register of we Myilrs, but far higher than any of the Ka’Lagrath. At around the same time, one of the individuals - the smallest of the five - let out a stifled yelp of (what I presumed to be) surprise.
I am the individual sitting across from you, the one currently looking in your direction. I responded. The individual did not respond for a moment.
How are you doing this? Earlier I think you tried speaking to us, but we couldn’t understand. But now you’re… speaking(?) English. They responded.
Does your civilization, - the… English, is it? - have stories of those who can read minds? This is something like that.
The individual shook their head from side to side. No, we call ourselves (people). English is one of our (unknown word). And yes, we do have such stories.
Given the nature of how this power worked, I was reading the intended meaning behind their thoughts. This meant that there would be words (or meanings, rather) that I could not understand.
Well, I guess that’s not important right now. I’m assuming you can still hear me… So, what exactly is it you need? The individual asked.
From what I overheard, you individuals were apparently dangerous enough that the ships’ guards were warned about you trying to escape. Yet from what I see, you are just sitting in silence. Why?
That’s what they were saying? The individual cocked their head. I suppose I can’t blame them after (farmer(?)) bit one of them…
Bit? As in used their mouth to attack? I was under the impression only non-sapient creatures attacked in such ways.
Anyway, we are planning to escape. It’ll just take a few (unknown word, time related?) The individual continued. I’m (Young flower(?)), by the way.
Young flower? I asked
What? The individual responded. I mean, I suppose it originally meant something like that. They continued.
Based on the individual’s reaction, I guessed that what they had just told me was their name. Unfortunately, as most names had meanings, I usually only “heard” the meaning of the name when told via this power. To hopefully combat this, I decided to spend some time actually conversing with the out loud as well as internally to hopefully learn more about them.
Over the course of 2 Deci-rotations, I conversed with the individual known as “Hanako” along with her crew mates. I slowly began to learn their language (of which, they apparently had several), and as a result I now knew more about them.
They called themselves “Humans”, and they were part of an alliance composed of 2 different species. Similar to the Myilrs and Ka’Lagrath, their species was composed of two primary sexes, and numerous genders (whilst Ka’Lagrath also had more than 2 genders, this information was largely repressed). Their homeworld was around a G class Star, and as a result, they couldn’t see into the infrared or Ultraviolet spectrums.
Hanako - the human I had been conversing with - was in command of an exploration vessel. They had been exploring the outermost edges of Human space when their ship was attacked and they were captured. Humans were apparently also rather social creatures, as Hanako seemed to enjoy my company, and her crew mates also seemed to enjoy my presence (as I could not communicate with them directly, this was a bit harder to tell).
I had asked on numerous occasions about if they were planning to escape or not, to which they said they were. However, when I asked how, they couldn’t quite figure out how to describe it. They had assured me they would escape, but strangely it appeared as if they didn’t know how they would.
3 Deci-rotations after the humans first arrived, the Mutiny was stopped to refuel in an uncontrolled star system. In addition, five Ka’Lagrath cruisers had also rendezvoused with the tanker in order to take on fuel. It was during this refueling stop when I began to hear a distinct rumbling sound similar to that of air entering or escaping a room.
There were no vents in this holding cell, nor was the door open or any other way for air to enter or escape, and the air felt perfectly calm. Yet despite that, the ‘flowing air’ sound continued, slowly growing louder and clearer. After several minutes, the sound was impossible to ignore. It was loud enough to drown out conversation, and it made it hard to think clearly. Almost everyone in the cell, including the sole Ka’Lagrath guard, showed signs of anxiety on their faces or fidgeted nervously. I silently wondered if the ship hasn’t sprung a leak, and we were mere moments away from an explosive decompression.
The humans, on the other hand, were dead calm. Worried about their complete lack of concern, I went over to Hanako.
“Why calm?” I managed after struggling for a moment.
A look of confusion crossed Hanako’s face for a moment, she then bared her teeth (in a gesture I was assured was a sign of joy/happiness, rather than an intimidation attempt) before saying “you’ll see!”
Her words thoroughly confused me. What would I see? I didn’t think it was possible to see sound, were humans perhaps capable of seeing sound? Was she referring to the fact the ship was visibly shaking from the noise? I didn’t understand in the slightest.
I turned towards the window - the direction in which the sound seemed to be coming from - and tried to focus. I didn’t understand what was happening at all, I had so many questions that-
My train of thought was abruptly interrupted by a singular large THUD. The vacuum of space itself seemed to shudder as a massive object streaked in from near-luminal speeds before coming to an abrupt stop in less than a second. The aforementioned ‘flowing wind’ sound noticeably decreased in volume, and was partially replaced by a ‘winding down’ noise, a split second later, two more loud THUDs accompanied two more massive objects emerging from out of nowhere at similar speeds and stopping in a similar amount of time. The ‘flowing air’ sound finally came to an end as fifteen or so smaller objects emerged from out of nowhere in a similar fashion.
Despite being separated by the vacuum of space, I could clearly hear the objects. Each one groaned and creaked for several long seconds as they remained motionless. It was then that I recognized the sound. These sounds are almost identical to the noises heard when a ship is traveling through rift-space, and then the sounds heard after emerging from rift-space, as the drives powered down.
This made no sense. Eighteen or so objects - evidently ships of some kind, has just emerged from rift-space right in front of my very eyes. The Mutiny was around 500 light seconds from the system’s primary star - no ship in existence could possibly drop out of rift-space at any location other than near the system’s center of mass. And yet, these ships seemed to have done just that.
The ships’ design was completely unknown to me. Unlike the smooth a bulbous designs of Ka’Lagrath ships, these vessels were very blocky in nature. The center most ship had a long, flat deck behind a vaguely conical bridge. Either side of the primary body were two massive “wings” pointed at a slight angle “downwards”, and 2 strut-like protrusions at an angle extending out from a central tower-like structure on the bottom. Finally, on one side of the primary deck, there was another tower which appeared to be a bridge of some-sort.
Either side of the center most ship were two vaguely trapezoid in shape, with 4 large railgun double-barreled turrets on each wing (2 above and 2 below), totaling 8 turrets (although it seemed as if there were more behind the forward facing turrets). Above what looked like an embedded bridge was an enormous triple-barreled railgun turret, and there was another directly below in on the bottom of the ship. I had never seen such large railguns before - these were definitely far larger than the 23cm railguns commonplace on Ka’Lagrath vessels. Finally, both ships had an insane amount of secondary railgun turrets dotted along their hulls.
The smaller ships were less impressive, but still formidable. They were a boxy shape with a single large ‘humps’ above their center. On either side of the bridge of the ships sat dual barreled railgun turrets, and the hump contained 4 large openings that were likely for a weapon of some kind.
All in all, the eighteen ships sat in ominous silence for long seconds. The Ka’Lagrath fleet reacted instantly, all five cruisers began turning to engage the enemy fleet. Turrets rotated and hatches opened as the cruisers began to prepare for battle. The mysterious fleet, did not wait idly by, instead, around a hundred or so small craft began to emerge from the ‘back’ of the center most ship before charging at the Ka’Lagrath fleet. Following behind the small craft were the fifteen or so smaller vessels that had emerged from rift-space a moment ago. The front most ship rotated its turrets and loosed 4 rounds towards one of the Ka’Lagrath cruisers. Hell began to break loose as the Ka’Lagrath and the mysterious ship began exchanging fire.
The Mutiny was rocked by numerous impacts as the small crafts dove at it, releasing some sort of payload before darting away to attack a different target. These ships moved as if they were flying through an atmosphere, rather than the vacuum of space, which was extremely odd. Although, nothing about this situation was normal so far.
Bafflingly, as the rounds hit their target, there would occasionally be an explosion following it. This meant that, for whatever reason, these ships used explosives rounds rather than simple metal slugs. What’s more, the rounds likely contained an oxidizer as well in order to facilitate the explosion.
One of the smaller ships charged at a Ka’Lagrath vessel and four slow (compared to the railgun rounds) projectiles were deployed from the hump on the ship’s back. Noticing the lack of speed from the projectiles, the Ka’Lagrath cruiser attempted to dodge - the projectiles turned to match its course. The cruiser tried everything it could to make the projectiles miss, but it was ultimately futile. All four of the projectiles hit their mark, and the Ka’Lagrath cruiser was torn in half by an enormous explosion.
It was at around this point when I noticed that the eight forward-facing turrets on one of the two larger ships began to rotate, each pair of turrets seeming to track a different target. Each pair eventually locked onto their target and slowly tracked it for long seconds.
Then, massive plumes of fire and smoke were expelled from each barrel in sequence as the massive guns fired. They were using not railguns, but ancient explosive-propelled shells shot from a cannon. All hell broke loose, as the remaining four Cruisers all but disintegrated in massive explosions. All the ships that had been attacking a moment ago suddenly began falling back as the spine-mounted turret on one of the large ships slowly began to rotate.
Fear. That’s the only emotion I felt as I stared down the three massive barrels on the central turret. The Mutiny, the ship I was currently on, was its next target. Time stood still as the turret coldly tracked the Mutiny as it attempted to flee. Then, three massive plumes of fire and smoke exploded out of the barrels as I braced myself for impact.
The Mutiny shook with such intensity that it felt as if it were being torn apart. The ship screeched and screamed in agony as fire enveloped the hallways. The power died but the emergency light were of little use compared to the flames currently licking the door to the hallway. Somehow, we had survived. The ship was completely dead, but it would take time before the air supplies ran out.
The central turret began rotating back to its neutral position as several ships that looked something like a needle with a cone-like top were deployed from the center most ship and began speeding this way. The ships charged at the Mutiny, seemingly determined to ram the thing. I was sure they were intending to slice through the Mutiny’s hull, damning those of us still alive to boil or freeze to death in the vacuum of space. But at the last second, retro-rockets fired on each of the pin-shaped craft followed shortly thereafter by the intense screeching of metal penetrating metal. I was knocked off my feet as each of the pin-shaped craft slammed into the Mutiny’s hull. One of the ships had come to a rest no more than 20 meters away from the cell we currently occupied.
The fires in the hallway had died down, and any Ka’Lagrath guards who had survived the impacts were scrambling throughout the darkened hallways. Sparks flew from the points of contact of the closest ship accompanied by the electric sounds of welding. After a moment, the sparks and noise died down only to be immediately followed by the sounds of metal being torn through by an immense force. Then once more there was pure silence.
*pop pop, pop pop*
Four distinct popping noises were shortly followed by barely audible Ka’Lagrath screams. There were other voices too, they were somewhat muffled and mechanical in nature meaning I could not decipher them.
*BOOM*
*pop pop pop, pop, pop*
The distinct sound of an explosion followed by more of the previous popping sounds. Looking into the hallway I saw several Ka’Lagrath guards running towards the source of the noise. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but it seemed they were rather panicked. A group of around ten guard were running down the hall when-
*THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK*
A much heavier “thunking” sound began ringing out, as hundreds of orange trails whizzed by tearing the Ka’Lagrath guards to shreds. The residual “tings” of many objects hitting the floor was audible after that terrifying machine stopped firing.
A few seconds later I saw a creature in thick armor wearing a helmet with a black visor peer through the door and into the room.
“Over here!” I heard them shout in the Human’s tongue. Several more individuals rushed over to the door as Hanako spoke up.
“Get away from the [unknown word]”, I didn’t need to know what the last word was to understand that I needed to get out of the way, and fast. I scrambled away from the door as the (presumably human) individuals fiddled with the door. An eerie silence fell over the room, as every individual was herded to the corner furthest from the door. The silence was occasionally broken by rapid pops and the occasional boom. It was right when I was about to speak up when-
BOOM
The door was blown off its mount as it flew across the room, impacting the wall opposite of it. The armoured individuals stormed the room, the smoke from the recent explosion twisting around their figures as they emerged from the smoking entrance. One of the armoured individuals spotted the humans and immediately ran over to them.
I could not decipher most of their conversation, but what started as the armoured individual checking on the humans in concern quickly turned into something resembling an argument. I would need to ask Hanako about it when I got the chance. After the (what I assumed to be an) argument went on for far too long, the armoured individual gave off an air of exasperation before dejectedly speaking into some device.
After another few moments, the armoured individual began speaking to Hanako, and she relayed that we were supposed to follow a few of the armoured individuals back to their ship. At the time I was still greatly confused, but by doing this my fate would be irreversibly changed as I got involved in a conflict that would change the course of history…
Hey Y’all, long time no see. It’s been two or so months since I last updated this series, as explained in this post I’ve been very busy, but going forward I’ll be trying to update this series every other Monday or so (and failing that, the 3rd Monday of every month). That aside I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it ended up being quite a bit longer than I initially expected which is part of why it took so long.
I’m currently undecided about whether the next entry I write will be an intermission, or a full-blown chapter. The contents wouldn’t differ much, if at all. So far the actual chapters have been from an alien perspective, rather than a human/familiar one. But I’m not sure if it’s worth keeping this up “naming scheme” going forward. I still like the idea of alternating, but the issue is that of “are the entries labeled ‘1, intermission, 2, intermission…’ or just ‘1, 2, 3, 4…’” if any of you have strong opinions on this, please let me know.
Once again I hope you enjoyed, and I’ll (hopefully) see y’all in 2 weeks or so!
~Rad
Read the next entry here
#writing#humans are deathworlders#humans are space orcs#humans are space australians#reddit refugee#sci fi writing#hfy#humanity fuck yeah#Tumblr has changed since I was here last#they did something to Tumblr live it would seem#when writing that last tag it suggested the tag ‘They did surgery on a grape’#is that tag still even active? that meme is ancient#writers on tumblr#scifiseries#hope that last tag fits#My definition of ‘early’ tomorrow (now today) is apparently really skewed
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What do you think as Hermione's career would be post battle of Hogwarts? To me her being minister for magic really doesn't make sense. She does not have patience or tact to wade through murky waters of politics 😭😭
So hard to say! The Trio are so, so young when we leave them, I find it almost impossible to project their futures farther than a few years out. The job that suited me at 17 would be radically unsuited to me now. That's why of all the Trio, Ron's ending strikes me as the most realistic — he jumps straight into the save-the-world business again, burns out, realizes he's actually Done The Fuck Enough, Thanks, and pivots into a low-stress career where he gets to see his family a lot. Feels accurate! The others are weirder to me because they do seem to just... pick a lane and stay there.
With Hermione, you could spin her a couple ways. You could say that she leans into her bookish side and does research or teaching, which is not my preference for a couple reasons (namely, I don't think Hermione would like academia as a profession; she finds her classwork interesting and enjoys intellectual validation, but she'd be stifled and wasted in a DPhil program, and she'd be infuriated by the administrative politicking of your average higher-ed faculty). You could say that she gets disaffected with politics and ends up as a barrister or a lobbyist of some kind, but if anything that requires more political finesse, because you don't actually have institutional power, you're just handling the people who make decisions and trying to persuade them of your goals. This is not Hermione's preferred method of influence. She's not even particularly good at persuasion, she just happens to be smart enough (and right often enough) that people take her ideas seriously.
Or you could say her brashness fades with the years into a softened flavor of tell-you-like-it-is honesty, which some politicians actually do successfully trade on; as we see in British politics today, you don't have to be all that charming or clever to get ahead, you just need to be really driven and well-connected (which Hermione completely is; she fought shoulder-to-shoulder with the first postwar Minister and her bestie, the Literal Messiah, runs the Auror Office.) But I don't know if Hermione especially wants to be Minister, after the war. She's just watched years of horrendous bureaucratic incompetence plunge the country into a violent civil conflict. She's had not one, but two Ministers of Magic try to bully or shame her friends into complicity with fascism. Her view of government is... likely extremely dark.
But Hermione also isn't the kind of person who sees her life as a quest for happiness. Babygirl has a savior complex that makes Harry look selfish. (She basically kills her parents — yeah, obliviating is a form of murder, #changemymind — "for their own good," and justifies every batshit, vindictive, mean-spirited move she ever pulls on the grounds that it "helps" one of her friends.) She is a mean, lean, dragon-slaying machine, and she needs a dragon. After Voldemort, the Ministry is the no. 1 threat to muggle-borns and non-wizarding Beings. As a war heroine with basically infinite political capital, I'd be surprised if she didn't try to do something there. That said, Hermione is so vivacious and dynamic that she could potentially grow in a hundred different directions; it's possible that all of this, while true of her at 18, becomes completely inaccurate by 22. That's why I'm not too fussed about any particular fanon interpretation.
#greenteacup asks#sidebar: I know Minister “of” Magic is an Americanism but mea culpa#Someday I might actually bite it and pay someone to britpick Lionheart but I can't do it now#because I have a ban on editing published fic unless it's finished. Otherwise I'll never get around to writing the actual ending#I have a Process#is it the best process? likely not! but it makes the words go. so here we are.#I also think the fact that JKR is Gen X makes a difference here. careers worked differently in the 80s and 90s than they do now#i.e. we have the gig economy and a lot more mobility and EXPECTATION of mobility in your early life#that means career changes & professional pivots through your 20s and 30s are increasingly normal#and in fact have always been normal — but the image of the 'true' or 'ideal' career has changed#so we look at those careers and go hm. really? none of them changed?#none of them even went to uni? do wizards... just not?#but again. I believe the epilogue was written almost completely without consideration as to what happened between the BOH and then#I really believe that JKR did not know what happened to Harry except a wedding and 3 kids. because that was the whole point#I don't think she even knew what his career was when she wrote that scene#It existed to marry everyone off and do a quick munchkin headcount#because of the understandable temptation as an author to keep your hand on the wheel. but it didn't even matter!#the epilogue changed NOTHING! it was the most useless chapter in the series! I just — GOD#you can absolutely accuse me of being sour grapes about my ships getting nixed. I AM sour grapes. I AM a hater.#AND I have plot/theme/craft reasons for disliking it.#I'm not objective. I just want credit for being a sophisticated hater. my grapes may be sour but they're still artisinal.
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higuchi who doesn't like eating grapes with the skin on, even if it's her favourite fruit. her sister tells her to just shut up about it, so higuchi usually doesn't mention this to anyone
gin who is the first one higuchi tells when they were learning more about each other, and takes note of it for later. when they finally get together and live under the same roof, they buy grapes regularly for fruits after dinner
higuchi starts to realise all the grapes she eats are always peeled, which is pretty obvious since the grapes they buy are always the red ones
higuchi who notices one day, as gin is passing her a bowl of peeled grapes, small bits of grape skin under gin's fingernails
#lei writes! ଘ(|li.‸.)#this is so silly but i've been thinking about it all dinner#oh to have someone peel grapes for me 😔😔#higuchi: i don't like grapes with the skin#gin: say less#i love them sm actually i think i js love lesbians#bungou stray dogs#bsd#higugin#higuchi x gin#higuchi#akutagawa gin
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What’s smithy’s favorite food other than pepto bismol?
Kevin's Smoothies
I KID. He tolerates those because food made specifically for him is always going to be his favorite food. He associates someone making something with him in mind as like the NICEST THING. So he'll drink / eat without a single complaint
It's hard to pick a single thing XD
#1 is his Grandma's pies.
You may say 'well that's dessert' you would be correct but also WRONG.
GS has range and she makes a mean Shepherd's pie and an even meaner Chicken Pot Pie.
#Fluent Freshman AU#you have no idea how tempted I was to say grapes#due to a discord running gag#but that's MY favorite food not FF#This choice is inspired by my cousin who hates sweets#And when asked if he wanted a cake for his birthday at age 7 went no I want pie#And my aunt went “ok what kind?”#And my cousin went “Chicken Pot”#Do you know how weird it is to have your straightest cousin in the entire world#be named Kevin#Like I have to forget that Kevin exists sometimes to write about Kevin Day#Sorry Kevin my cousin#You didn't exist the entire time I was writing my Kevin + Andreil fic
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Public Father
harry promised her family would always come first but what happens we he loses sight of what's important?
Word count: 12523
A/N: hi friends! i feel like it's been forever since i posted but at last here's something new. it's dad harry and i feel that's always a treat except well there is lots of angst mixed in. happy reading!
Warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, small mention of infidelity
please send me a message with your thoughts of the story
Harry has been happily married for six years. He married the love of his life at the age of 24 and now, at 30, still loves her deeply. If anything, his love for her has only grown because she gifted him two perfect children.
Wesley is five and in love with the piano. He got the love from both him and Y/N. While Harry was introduced to the piano later in life, Y/N had begun playing at age three and never stopped. It seems Wes liked it just as much.
Josephine, three years and growing. She refuses to pick up any instrument but is constantly running around with a paintbrush or crayon, ready to write on any blank space (that her mother allows her to).
Life is good. He has a loving wife, two kids, and a dog named Scott because Ant-Man is the children's favorite superhero, and his wife has a lot of love for Paul Rudd. He does as well.
Harry had released a new album and is just coming back from a six-month tour in America, happy to go meet his family at his son's piano recital. He was still private, keeping work and family separate, even more so with his children, never posting their faces online, and any glimpse people did get was just off the back of their heads. He will never jeopardize their privacy, especially because he knows how much it means to Y/N to give them a choice to be in the spotlight or not.
His flight arrived later than planned, but he wasn't worried. His wife was already there, telling him they had to arrive early.
She had to deal with dressing a three-year-old who lived in her paint-dried overalls and getting her son to let her put a bowtie on him for the performance, something he didn't enjoy but knew he needed for the musicians he saw wore them. He wanted to follow in their footsteps and be like them, so Wes let her.
Harry didn't know all his wife struggled with as basically a single parent as she couldn't easily join him on tour for months on end. She didn't want to pull her kids out of the routine they had created. He agreed and told her he'd call and be on a flight home if she ever needed him. Y/N knew how important touring was, but when she called him that both kids were running high fevers, that she was scared and needed him.
He didn't answer.
That was the first crack, with many soon to follow.
She cried and cried and instead called her best friend, Isha, who rushed over and helped her take them to A&E. The doctor gave them medicine, and it reduced the fever. He said she did the right thing bringing them in, especially since they both had a fever that wasn't lowering. She cried on her way home as her children were finally able to drift to sleep.
Harry didn't call back until the following day, saying he was sorry he missed her call, never once mentioning her voice message. She brushed it off and told him she missed him. Y/N let him speak with Wes and Jo, who were bouncing around better than the night before.
She knows he's not the only one to blame, but it's not all on her either. Y/N puts everything into her children. She loves them and always wants them to remember that. She is a full-time employee as a data analyst and is thankful she can bring her work home because she hates leaving Jo with a sitter when she knows the young girl can be shy even if she knows the person. Jo prefers being with her or Harry. Y/N would never push her too far when all Josie wanted was comfort.
Harry rushed into the auditorium of the private primary school. He took hours to convince Y/N for their son to attend. She gave in when he told her they would help him with his piano lessons and that they did. He'd excelled and learned to read the music with practice. It also helped that Y/N would sit with him as he played.
"Hello, love," Harry approaches his wife, giving Y/N a kiss on her cheek and then her lips when she turns her head.
"Hi, you made it," she breathes out, shoulders relaxing.
"Of course, the flight got delayed."
"Where's my munchkin?" Harry asks, peaking at the empty seat where his little girl must be.
"Went to get a snack with Isha. I saved our seats." She offers for him to slide in.
"Got us good ones." They were sitting in the second row, the inner aisles seats for accessible exits if needed to tend to a crying toddler.
"Yes, it pays to come early, I guess."
Harry settles down, brings his wife close to his chest, and breathes her in. He's happy to be home. As much as he loves being on stage, there is nothing better than being with his family, with the love of his life.
"Think Isha can take the kids? I want to show you how much I missed you." Harry playfully nibbles your neck.
Y/N would love that, but her children always come to mind, "promised the kids a dinner at home with their Daddy who they missed."
"Can't argue with that."
"Not opposed to a shower once they go to bed." Y/N throws in, knowing how important reconnecting is for them.
"That's my girl."
Y/N hears small steps down the aisle and turns her head to see her daughter running down. She giggles not too loud to not draw attention to herself until she comes to a stop at the aisle where they are sitting.
"Hi, Mummy." The smile on Jo's face is bright, calling for all the attention to be on her.
"Hello, my gorgeous girl. Got a snack." Y/N points to the closed cookie bag in her hand.
Isha arrives, cool as a breeze, her marron jumpsuit hugging her tightly in all the right places showing off her curves. "She had it already. I think it's kicking in."
"Yes, this is for you, Mummy." Jo hands off the small treat to Y/N.
"Why aren't you the sweetest? Thank you for thinking of me." Y/n leans in, placing a loud kiss on her cheek. Jo's cheeks turned red at the extra affection but never pushed Y/N away.
Isha sits next to Y/N, handing her two waters, where she places them in the cup holders as Jo walks a little farther in to not block the walkway.
"Look who's here, angel?" Y/N brushes Jo's wild curls behind her ears. She peeks over and finds Harry staring at her with a wide grin.
"Hi, my love, missed you." Harry softens his tone, opening his arms, ready for her to rush towards him, but to his surprise, she doesn't.
Jo nods but doesn't move towards him. Instead, she reaches up to be seated in Y/N's lap. Y/N doesn't question her but turns her to face Harry. She rubs a gentle hand down her back, noting how she's grabbing the end of Y/N's dress.
Harry doesn't falter. "Missed you. Thought of you every day. Got some presents for you waiting at home." No reaction. "Do you want to give Daddy a kiss?"
She reaches her arms up towards his face, and Harry thinks she wants him to carry her, but Y/N stops him. "She wants to hold your face, lean down." Harry does as she said. His daughter's tiny hands land on his cheeks, and she gazes into his eyes before a smile takes over her face. They must be wearing matching smiles because, in the next second, she leans forward to place a kiss on his nose. "Daddy."
"That's right, bubba. I'm your, Daddy."
Josie loses interest after that, going for the cookies Y/N opened for herself and Jo because she knows the young girl wouldn't be able to help herself. Harry turns his focus to the stage where a teacher has begun announcements to shut off all noise on electronics and to make sure the flash remains off when taking photos.
Harry was buzzing in his seat to see his son perform. He was proud of Wes and his confidence in embracing his talents, just as his wife did at his age. Pretty soon, he might even follow in Harry's footsteps.
The first few performances went in the blink of an eye as Harry clapped for each one, always trying to see if he could see Wes peeking behind the curtains; he did not. Until finally, it was time. Wes Styles was announced and out walked his son, who had grown taller in the six months he had been away. Facetime is different from seeing his son and his family in person. Harry frowned because that means he didn't get to mark his month's growth against his bedroom door with him as they'd done previously. He brushed over that small fact because he knew Y/N would take care of it, just like she did everything else.
His son glanced at them with a timid smile before looking down at the keys. The stare lingered on his fingers for a second before he took a deep breath and began to play a beautiful melody.
After the short-minute song, Harry, Y/N, and Isha all stood cheering loudly and proudly for Wes. His son waved and did a bow, then rushed backstage as he awaited for the final two students before he could reunite with his family. Harry could not stop squeezing her thigh, proud of their son.
One final time all students come on stage for a final bow and then are dismissed. Y/N set Jo down, allowing her to toddle over to her older brother with the large bouquet of flowers in her hands. Isha made sure to record their hug as Y/N was quick to get overwhelmed with tears. Wes noticed Harry right behind Y/N, and as excited as he was to see his father, his number one person would always be his Y/N. Wes was a total Mummy's boy. Y/N held her son tightly, pressing kisses on his cheeks as Wes basked in the affection.
"Proud of you, angel."
Wes smiles, his dimples on full display. "Thanks for your help, Mumma."
"Always, darling." She presses one last kiss to his face before standing up, allowing Harry to have his turn.
"Hiya bud, you were incredible." Harry gets down to Wes' height, arms wide open, and Wes doesn't wait another second before launching himself in his father's arms. It had been months. Harry missed his kids. He missed being home. He was glad to be back.
"Are you proud?"
Harry brushes back Wes' curls, similar to Harry's when he was that age.
Y/N frowns, overhearing her son's question, while Harry doesn't even think twice about it.
"Extremely." Harry hugs his son one last time before letting him go.
All begin to walk out together, except for Jo, who wants her Mum to hold her. Harry offered to carry her, but Josephine insisted that it be Y/N only. Who was Harry to make his little girl unhappy?
"We'll meet you at home then. Made Wes' favorite dinner to celebrate." Y/N tells Harry as he helps Wes buckle up, and Y/N settles Jo into her seat, a pout on her face.
"Actually, love, I got us a reservation for the kids' favorite pizza place." Harry grins, taking his eyes away from Wes and meeting Y/N's, who cannot help but shake her head because, of course, he did.
"Pizza alright with you, Mr. Pianist?" Y/N looks at Wes, waiting patiently in his seat.
Wes nods eagerly, telling them to get in already.
The drive is smooth with their children filling the car with their singing to the Frozen 2 soundtrack. They can never seem to get enough. It's one of their favorites.
Dinner goes as smoothly as Y/N hoped. There is laughter and conversation constantly flowing. Wes talks Harry's ears off while also speaking with Isha. Jo sticks to her side most of the night, eating from Y/N's plate, not wanting to eat the pizza Harry picked for her. It seemed Jo didn't want to share Y/N with Harry for the night. He didn't mind, not when he knew he'd be getting Y/N all alone later.
As Y/N sees her children beginning to yawn, she knows it is time to head home. One look towards Harry, and he's pressing a kiss to her cheek and going to pay the bill.
"It's nice he's home," Isha comments.
Y/N nods. "I've missed it."
"Let's see how long he's here."
She sighs because as much as she defends Harry, Isha is right. There is no telling how long he is home until the work begins.
"I'll always have you," Y/N squeezes her hand.
"Of course, you will, but I want you to have him as well."
Y/N knows she's right, "I'll speak to him."
"All ready to head out?" Harry asks quietly, seeing that Jo is fighting off sleep.
Y/N leads the way out, carrying Jo looking behind her to see Isha holding Wes's hand, sending a smile. Harry steps forward to get to the door when Y/N stops him seeing a few people loitering outside with cameras in hand.
Paparazzi.
How did they even find him? Jeff had assured Harry and Y/N endlessly that no one knew he had landed back in London.
So much for privacy. Y/N asks Jo softly to cuddle close, placing the blanket she carries in her bag over her head. Isha scoops Wes up and drapes her coat over him. Y/N hates doing this. Her kids are accommodating to this because they've had to do it many times already.
"You can take the back exit," Harry tells her, frowning at the paparazzi.
"What?" She asked, confused.
"Yeah, I'll handle them. Take Isha's car. She still has the seats, right?"
"But Harry–"
Harry shakes his head, "we'll make it home at the same time."
He quickly kisses Y/N's lips, and then she follows the waiter, who was kind enough to show them out while Harry braced the paparazzi on his own.
As Harry catches sight of Isha's car driving away, he walks out with all the focus on him. The camera-ready smile is on as he walks towards his car with them all following along.
"What were you celebrating, Mr. Styles?"
With pride, he answers, looking at the man who asked, "my son had a piano recital tonight and was brilliant."
"Must be really proud," someone else chimed in.
"Hard worker just like me," Harry shared.
Harry lets them ask a few more questions before bedding them goodbye with one final thought. "Last thing I want to say is talented, and I'm proud to call him my boy."
He arrives half an hour later, never stopping to text her that he was not right behind her like he promised. Y/N sighs as she finishes picking up the last few scattered toys Jo managed to miss making into her toy chest when she heard the front door close.
The kids are now both bathed and in bed. Josie was eager for a goodnight kiss from both her parents, but after a fresh shower and Y/N combing her hair, she settled down quickly. Wes was still waiting eagerly in his room, waiting for Harry to give him a kiss goodnight. Storytime used to be Harry and Wes time, but Y/N took over that, and now both enjoyed reading a book with fewer pictures and more words.
Harry walks in quietly, not saying a word.
"Took a while, H."
"Yeah," he murmurs. "They wouldn't leave me alone."
Y/N nods before gesturing up the stairs, "Wes is waiting for a goodnight."
"Leave me the easy part, huh." Harry steps close to her, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. "Thanks, love."
After seeing that downstairs was all tidy, she goes up, ready for her own shower to wash the day away. She passes Josie's room first and sees her deep in sleep, her ducky tight in her hold. Next, Wes' room and knows all is good with the small chatter inside. It's nice to have Harry home.
Y/N's undressing in their bathroom when the door creeps open, and Harry stops to stare. She doesn't mind. She's missed being in his presence.
"Did Wes go down easy?"
"Yes, he did. I asked if he wanted me to read, but he said you got that covered." Harry said a bit accusingly.
Y/N brushes it off, "it gets him settled for bed quicker. You can read tomorrow."
She reaches in to turn the water on, getting the temperature to her liking as much as she wants a bath. She's also dead on her feet.
Harry remembers the conversation they had earlier, watching his wife get her shower ready. He steps up behind her as she's straightening out, his hands resting on her bare hips, "can I still join you?"
"Of course, H."
Harry presses a kiss to her bare shoulder before moving up her neck, "going to let me love on you too,"
Y/N sighs at the kisses he leaves her, leaving her more overwhelmed than the last. All she can do is nod.
"Need an answer, honey."
"Yes, baby, please."
"Is my wife going to let me show her how much I missed her? How appreciative I am of her being a good mother to our children. God baby, so ready to give you everything you need."
"Yes, Harry. Yes."
Her mind is hazy, and all she can think is that she loves him.
"I love you, Harry."
"And I love you, my heart. Now let me show you."
The following morning Y/N is up before everyone else. She knows Josie is an early bird and likes to have breakfast with her while Y/N has her tea. She kisses Harry's forehead and makes her way downstairs with her phone in hand that is flooded with more notifications than usual.
She sighs; it's going to be one of those days.
Harry is found entering an Italian restaurant with a mystery woman but leaves alone, saying he was celebrating his son, but his son or his wife were nowhere in sight.
It's a photo of the back of Isha and Harry holding the door open. Isha looks really good, and though Y/N knows the truth, she hates the speculation of him cheating on her. She hates that media outlets still entertain even when they know they're married and have two children. Y/N knows Harry would never, but it still makes her heartache.
Y/N decides it's best to ignore it and instead enjoy the time together as a family. Wes and Jo have wanted to go to the park, and it seems lovely weather to do so as a family.
Everything would be alright.
It's been a week since Harry arrived home, and Y/N is going crazy.
Truthfully, she's just sad.
She loves Harry. Of course, she does. He's the father of her children, husband, and best friend, but he hasn't been home. He's been gone every night following their park day. It's either a meeting, a dinner, or drinks with old friends. It's spending time with everyone but them. There have been more articles lately about Harry raving about their children and how amazing they are. He speaks of their talents and skills. How Josie loves to paint and mixes colors well to Wes' dedication to practicing piano.
Y/N's least liked piece she's read is in his latest interview, where he spoke of them again when he was asked about his favorite part of being a stay-at-home dad. His response was laughable, "all the time with them to cook, oh and bath time."
Y/N scoffs because it's a load of crap. He's not a stay-at-home dad. He's a public father, only for show but never there for the small things when she needs him. She loves Harry, but he's changed from the man she met, and he now much prefers the limelight to being at home.
It's Friday night, and Harry once again didn't tuck his kids to bed. No bedtime stories or goodnight kisses.
"Why is Daddy always busy, Mummy?" Wes asks as she bookmarks the page they left on to pick up again tomorrow.
She wishes she had an answer. So, she lies. "He's preparing for a long time off."
"Okay. I love you."
"I love you more, my sweet Wesley."
Y/N kisses him three times and wishes him sweet dreams.
Wes had shocked her tonight. She never lied to her children, but it seemed like she had to. How could she make Harry the bad guy?
When Y/N settles down for bed and notices Harry hasn't arrived home, she decides she's had enough of this shit Harry is pulling and can only let it go on for so long. In the past, Y/N would have stayed up waiting to make sure Harry got home safe, but her children are her top priority.
Y/N stirs when she hears the front door slam shut. She groans, peeking an eye open to see the time, and it reads 5:14 am. It's clear Harry's drunk with all the tumbling and giggling he's doing up the stairs and into their room. Y/N stays still, not saying a word as he stumbles into bed. He wasn't loud enough to wake the kids, but she knew they would be up soon
By six, she's up, getting ready because between seven, it's time for the kids to wake up. She made them oatmeal with strawberries and blueberries on the side. Y/N walks into Josie's room, knowing she's awake but lays in bed waiting for Y/N because she loves a morning cuddle.
"Morning, my darling angel."
Josie kicks her legs up, laughing, "morning, Mummy."
"How'd you sleep?" Y/N asks as she scoops Josie into her lap and cuddles her close to her chest.
"Good," she mumbles.
"Ready to start the day, little dove?"
"Mhm."
"Want to change first?"
"Yes!"
"What do you want to wear?"
Josie wiggles out of your grasp and lets her feet carry her over to her drawer that holds her socks before moving on to her tops and bottoms. In a few minutes, she's back at Y/N's side, proudly displaying yellow socks, a yellow top, and black overalls.
"Wow, I love it." Y/N kisses her cheek, causing Josie to smile, showing off her dimples.
"Help, please."
Y/N sits her on the bed and helps her take off her nightgown. She blows raspberries onto her tummy, causing Jo to let out loud giggles.
"No accidents last night?" Y/N asks because Josie likes the check-up. She shakes her head no. "Okay, before we buckle, let's go to the restroom and brush your teeth. Sound good?"
"Good." She agrees leading the way.
Y/N kneels down to Josie's height, ensuring she's brushing correctly, helping her when Jo allows her. Once she's all done, Jo clips her overalls, and Y/N stands behind her, beginning to brush her daughter's curls.
"Does Josie want piggies, bunnies, or a braid today?"
Jo thinks about it for a second before showing you two fingers. "Bunnies it is."
Y/N wets her hair, making sure to go gentle, not wanting to hurt Josie. She makes sure not to tie the hair ties too tight. She knows she hated it when her mother did it to her when she was younger.
"All done," Y/N smiles at her through the mirror.
"Yay!" She claps and steps down from her stepping stool slowly, not wanting to fall over.
"Let's go check on your brother."
She nods eagerly, slips on her bunny slippers, and heads next door to Wes' room.
"Daddy?" She asks.
Y/N frowns, "he's not feeling well. He's sleeping."
"Okay."
And that's that.
They walk in to see Wes laying his clothes on his bed.
"Wes!" Jo shouts, running to hug her brother as if she hadn't seen him for months when it was only a few hours as they all slept.
"Hi, Jo. Morning Mummy." He grins at them both.
"Good morning, my love." Y/N gives his brushed hair a kiss. "Restroom all done."
"Yes. Teeth check," Wes says before she can ask and opens his mouth for her.
She leans down, chuckling, "smells fruity."
Wes nods proudly.
"Now," Y/N smiles, looking at her two children, the joy of her life. "It's time for kisses."
Y/N grabs them, bringing them close to her chest as she kisses them all over. Their laughter fills her heart.
"Alright, alright, breakfast time."
She decides she doesn't want to be home while Harry sleeps off his drunkenness and decides to take them to the park. It's a good place for the children to run to their heart's content but still tire them out for nap time. As soon as they get home, the kids know the routine, take their shoes off by their door, and race to their rooms to get a chance of clothes to not spend more time in their sweaty clothes while she prepares lunch.
The day is perfect. It's just them. For some time, it felt like when Harry was on tour and not home, they'd wait for his call, except he is here, and she's not sure how to feel.
The kids are lying on the patio sharing a coloring book as Wes tries his best to teach Josie to stay within the lines, but she doesn't like being told what to do, only wanting to add more to the drawing. She hears the shower going and knows Harry is up.
Y/N squares her shoulders, ready to tell Harry exactly how she feels because she's tired. She feels like she's raising two kids alone. It was nice the first years with Wes because Harry took the first two years off, not wanting to miss anything, and then he worked for a year where they all traveled with him. It was beautiful getting to show their baby the world. But then she found out she was pregnant, and Wes was starting school, and all she wanted was a routine for Josie like she had for Wes, but Harry was running on a high.
Harry was winning awards, streams were high, his songs were breaking records on the charts, and he wasn't ready for another pause. It wasn't until she was five months pregnant that he took a break to be there for her. Now Josie is three, and she doesn't know her father that well, always wondering who that man on the screen is. It leads to tears when Jo doesn't want to talk to him. Their kids need their father, and she wishes he could put out music and continue his career, but he loves being on stage, and she fears if she asks him to stay home, it won't be enough. That they won't be enough.
Harry walks down the stairs looking tired.
"Hi, love."
She stays quiet.
"Had a late night, everyone sends their love."
She frowns, not even sure who everyone is.
"Should go out together soon. Get Isha to watch the kids."
"She's on a work trip," Y/N responds softly.
"Well," he shrugs, "bet you know loads of people to help."
Her frown deepens because she notices he says she knows, not that he knows anyone.
"Harry."
"Yeah?”
Harry sits down unconcerned, like he didn't arrive early this morning.
"I can't do this," she tells him.
"Do what?" Harry asks, confused.
"Watch you go out every night and leave me as the housewife to watch the kids."
"Y/N–"
"No, Harry, I'm serious. You came home after a six-month-long tour and spent only around four hours put together with them this past week." Y/N isn't fighting for herself but for her children.
"I'm catching up with friends," he defends.
She scoffs, "catching up is a few hours not coming home pissed drunk at five am stumbling up the stairs with no care if you might wake your kids."
Harry frowns, "I deserve time off."
"Of course, you do, but there's no time off from being a dad. Harry, I work full time. I make breakfast, lunch and dinner. I take them to their practices and pick them up from school. I'm doing it all, alone. Our three-year-old is growing fast, and she doesn't recognize her dad most of the time."
"Ain't that disappointing," he laughs bitterly. "Y/N, that's on you. Not forcing her to talk to me."
Y/N feels her heart crack, this is unbelievable.
"Do you hear yourself? Force her." She shakes her head, ensuring her voice stays level to not alert the kids. "If she doesn't want to, I won't make her. It's your job as her father to be here for her."
"I am here."
"Here for what?" She points to him, "here in the flesh, sure but not doing any work."
"I'm here, and I do my part," he argues.
"What have you done?"
She waits for him to answer. A few seconds, a minute, and nothing but silence follows.
"You're just a public father," she spats out.
"What?"
"Praise all the good things your children do, all the raising you do. The stay-at-home father bit. Show up to recitals and parent conferences. It's all an act. To look good in the public eye. You're not the father who takes time to bathe his kids, to do teatime, or read them story after story. You're not the father they go to when they have a bad dream, not the father who sneaks them a treat when I'm cooking dinner. You're here, but you aren't. They need a private father who is there during bath time and tucks them to bed. Who would rather stay in and watch a movie than go out for dinner with friends and come home after six drinks at the bar? A father who listens to the same music over and over again. No, you prefer to be the public father who does no wrong and happily brags about his child's accomplishments. The man who sends them to private school and pays for this expensive house you choose for us to live in. As if you take them to their lessons, who deal with fevers, who deal with tantrums and having to tell them why their dad has left them yet again." Y/N wipes the tears that escaped her, her voice trailing off.
"I love you, but I don't love the man you've become. I want the father who woke up every hour to check up on our babies, the father who held my hand as I breastfed our babies for the first time. I want the father who promised to always put them first. To put us first. It's not even about me. It's about them and how they are beginning to feel like they are being raised by only one parent."
"I–I" Harry doesn't even have words because she's right.
Of course, she is.
He's failed them.
He failed them as a parent, but he's also failed as a husband.
Y/n told him she didn't want to become a housewife who just cared for her children and lost herself, but it's close to who she's becoming while still working.
Why didn't he stop the tour?
Why didn't he think about asking how they all felt about him leaving for so long with not one visit?
He missed lessons and jokes. He missed his son playing footy for the first time because he was always so anxious about it. His little girl had to take moments to remember his face. His wife–is hanging by a thread, and he's sure if it wasn't for their two kids, she wouldn't be here anymore, waiting for him.
"We are going to stay with my mum." She declares no room for argument.
"Love," Harry tries, but she shakes her head, stepping away from him.
"I love you, but it feels like you may not have the same love for us. I'm not saying it's us or touring, not at all. I know it means everything to you, but that changed five years ago. At least my priorities did. Yours should have to."
She goes towards the stairs to pack a weekend bag for the kids. "You need to figure out how to be a better father and not just a rockstar because you're both."
Harry watches her go up the stairs, knowing he has to let her go.
Y/N walks into Jo's room first, knowing hers would be the quickest to pack, knowing what she prefers. It's all set, and Y/N carries it into Wes' room, where he's lying on his bed with Josie as they look at picture books.
She grabs his Ant-man backpack and begins to get socks and underwear first. "What are you doing, Mummy?"
"Going on a little weekend trip," she answers softly.
"With dad?"
Y/N shakes her head, walking over to him. She smiles down at him, pressing a kiss to his head. "No, he's got some meetings, but he'll…" she pauses, "he'll be here when we get back."
Wes nods as if knowing there's a problem between his parents, "want to choose your clothes, lovie, or still have some faith in me."
"You can do it," Wes mutters. It breaks Y/N’s heart.
Once she has packed Wes's bag, she ushers them downstairs to put on their coats and shoes. Harry is sitting on the couch staring at a black screen.
Y/N sighs, "I'll let you know when we arrive."
"Y/N?"
She looks at him. He's now standing in the doorway, smiling sadly at his kids as Wes helps Jo zip her boots.
"You will come back, right?" His voice was small as if afraid of the answer.
"Of course, Harry. Still got a lot to figure out together, but you need to figure some things on your own."
"You still love me," he whispers as if he said it any louder. She'd tell him something that'd break his heart.
"With all my heart. I promised forever with you, and I'm holding tight to that, but I need you to find your way back to us." Y/N kisses his cheek before stepping back and grabbing the car keys.
Y/N watches as Harry kisses his children, giving them a big squeeze before letting them go. "Have a nice time, my angels."
They giggle and nod. They hold hands as Harry opens the door for them, waiting by the steps for Y/N to guide them down.
Y/N smiles at him, it's small, and it breaks his heart.
"I love you. I love you, and I promise I will try my best. I can't lose you." Harry promises her.
"You won't. Just give us the weekend, and we can go from there."
"I'd give you all in the time in the world if the end result was you all in my arms again."
"Can I kiss you?"
She nods timidly.
It's short and feels almost new. He doesn't try to deepen it but allows himself to feel her lips on his and how he ever let himself go so long without them. They break apart, hearing their children's laughter.
"At least they're not grossed out." She points out.
Y/N picks up Josie and holds Wes' hand down the steps. She settles Josie in her car seat first, then sits Wes in the booster. She gets into the car and does not look back at Harry as she drives off. She feels sad but also proud of herself because she and her children deserve better.
Y/N knows the route to her mother's like the back of her hand. It isn't until she passes the usual exit does she realize that's not where she wants to be. They've got a bit of a drive ahead. She makes a Bluetooth call hoping for an answer, and thankfully she gets it. It's a short call but knowing she will be welcomed with open arms always fills her with joy.
The drive didn't feel long, maybe because of the endless music they had playing. Thankfully they only have to make two stops before arriving. Y/N pulls into the driveway, relieved when she sees the porch light lit up. She turns the engine off and sees Wes fighting sleep as he unbuckles himself but waits for her to go to his side. Y/N goes to Josie's side first as she's in a deep sleep putting her on her shoulder and bags on the other. Opening Wes' dooring, he gets down with her help and then takes the bags from her. Her ever helpful boy.
She lets Wes knock on the door, and a few seconds later, it opens to show her a similar smile she just left behind.
"Nana!"
"Hi, my darling Wes," she cheers.
Anne Twist is one of her favorite people in her life.
Y/N loves her mother, but she's never felt so welcomed and loved as much as she does with her mother-in-law.
"Hi Anne," Y/N greets softly.
"Well, come in, sweetie," Anne moves from the door to let you in. "Don't go acting like a stranger now."
Y/N chuckles and walks in right behind Wes, who makes sure to take his shoes off before running in, setting his and Josie's bag right next to the couch.
"Are there bags in the car?"
"Just mine. I'll go for it once I set her down." Y/N gestures to Josie.
"Don't be silly. I've got it. You go on and set her down in Harry's room. We both know they like sleeping there when they visit."
"Thank you, Anne."
"Nothing to thank, dear."
Y/N moves up the steps slowly before entering the familiar room. She lays Josie down, removing her overalls and tucking her in under the covers, making a border with the pillows, not wanting her to roll off the bed. Jo doesn't even flinch as she fixes the blanket around her.
She pulls her phone out, knowing she owes Harry a text.
H
We made it. Had a few stops to make in between xxx
Y/N
Okay. I love you xxx
It hurts to leave him on read, but she does. He knows she loves him but needs the space. As Y/N starts getting lost in thought, Wes and Anne make their presence known.
"This strong man helped me with the bags," Anne tells her as she sets the bag down by the door.
"Very kind of you, Wes, thank you."
"Always help like you say, Mummy."
Y/N smiles while taking the bags from Wes, "that's right, we help when we can."
"Want some tea, Y/N?" Anne asks as she's unpacking Wes's pajamas.
"If it's not a bother."
"Y/N," Anne chastises in her motherly tone, one Y/N recognizes as one she does to her children.
She sighs, "I'm sorry. I'd love tea."
"Good."
As she's about to walk out, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Anne doesn't know what it is, but she clearly knows it has to do with her son.
"When I get them to bed."
Anne understands. "Do you want some help?"
She shakes her head, "no, just need to get him changed and in bed, and he'll be out for the night."
Wes is fighting sleep. All his movements lagged no. Jo has not moved one bit, and Y/N knows once Wes settles, he'll be out for the entire night.
Before Anne leaves the room, she pulls Y/N in for a hug. "I love you, don't forget it. Not because you gave me grandchildren or because you married my son but because I love the person I met all those years ago and the person you've become."
"Thank you, Anne. I love you too."
Y/N helps Wes get ready for bed, sitting with him in the restroom as he brushes his teeth and puts away his dirty clothes with Jo's. She apologizes to him for not having a book to read tonight, but he's too tired to be concerned about a book.
As she tucks him in under the covers next to Jo, he scoots close to her. It's a perfect picture moment. Seeing her babies cuddled close always fills her with so much love.
"I'll take care of Jo," Wes promises.
"I'll be sleeping right across if you need me."
He nods, letting his eyes flutter closed, drifting off to sleep as she plays with his hair. He loves it just as much as Harry does.
Y/N walks down and sees her tea done just how she likes it waiting for her. She takes a sip humming at the taste. No one makes it as good as Anne. "Thank you."
"Course, sweetheart."
They sit in silence for a moment.
"Nice drive?" Anne asks.
"Yes, it was. You know we enjoy the drive up to visit you."
"Reckon, you can't do it enough with those kiddos."
"It's endless potty breaks," Y/N jokes.
Small conversation flows as they drink their tea. Once they finish, Y/N rinses both mugs and sets them in the dishwasher, knowing Anne's preferred method. Y/N follows Anne to the living room sitting close to the edge as she drapes the warm blanket over herself. It's one she always uses when she comes down for a visit.
"I love Harry. With all my heart," Y/N begins, "I married him, but–"
"Oh honey, what did he do?"
Y/N sighs, "it's like he's not even there for us when he's home—well, for them. The kids miss him and always ask for him, but it's like he's still on the road when he's here."
"He doesn't spend time with them."
"Think the last time he spent hours with us was when he arrived for Wes' recital." Y/N keeps letting it all out now that she finally feels she has the chance to speak with someone who's listening. "I told him all this before leaving; he needed to figure out all his stuff and what kind of father he wanted to be and that we'd talk on Monday when we returned."
"That's good. Time apart."
"It's not like we need more of it, I know," she defends, "but I needed it."
Anne reaches out and squeezes her hand tightly.
"I love my Wes and Jo with all my heart, but I also miss my husband. I miss sneaking kisses, holding hands, and even staying up late on the couch talking for hours. I miss falling in love with Harry every day, and it's like he doesn't miss me, doesn't miss us. It's as if we're just a stop before his next big trip."
Y/N sees Anne's smile falter, "oh darling, I know he loves you."
"I don't doubt that, but he's constantly putting his career before us. Six months away, Jo isn't comfortable being alone with him for longer than ten minutes."
"I'm sorry it's been so hard."
Y/N feels she has said too much, "I'm sorry to pour this on you. He's your son."
Anne tuts, shaking her head. "And you're my daughter. Maybe not by blood, but I love you like a daughter, and you've given me more bundle of joys to love."
"Do–do you think he'll figure it out for us?" Y/N has never been so nervous for an answer.
"I hope so. If I know my son, he can get lost, but a slap on the head always sets him back on track. I think you've done just that."
Y/N feels a little relieved. "Get some rest. Sleep in if you can. I promise I got the kids."
"I don't know if I can."
Anne laughs, "you will."
Y/N checks in on her babies one last time before heading to bed. As soon as her head hits the pillow, she's out like a light.
She wakes up to distant laughter and knows it's time to get up. She checks her phone and sees it's ten am. She can't remember the last time she slept in that late.
Seeing as her kids are occupied with their Nana, she takes advantage and takes a long shower, washing all of yesterday away. She prepares for the cold air she knows will hit her once she steps out to Anne's large garden to greet her children.
Y/N lingers in the kitchen as she finishes her tea before stepping out. The creek in the door alerts them all to her presence. She waves at them as they come bounding towards her with giant grins. Y/N doesn't think twice, sinking to the floor, arms wide open to take Jo and Wes in her embrace.
"Hi, my angels."
"Mummy was a sleepy head."
Y/N can hear Anne giggling as she steps closer. "That I was. I needed to get my energy fueled if I want to keep up with you too."
"Yay!" Josie cheers right by Y/N's ear.
"What did you do this morning with Nana Anne?"
"A walk!" Josie yells.
"There was lots of grass," Wes comments.
"Yeah, I bet. Daddy knows how much Nana loves being out in the open."
"I like it here," Wes exclaims, returning to the grass and spinning around in circles.
"Me too," Josie says, copying her older brother's movements.
Y/N leans her head back, taking in the small bit of sunlight peeking through the clouds. I do as well, Y/N thinks to herself.
Anne beams at Y/N, glad that her grandchildren are happy here because she wants them to know they always have a place here, a safe space. Y/N has continuously shown that to them.
"Darling?" Y/N turns her head away from her giggling children to look at Anne, "does he know you're here?"
She grimaces and shakes her head no. "I was originally taking us to my mother's but realized three exits too late that wasn't where I was headed."
Anne signals she understands. "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too."
Saturday comes and goes all too quickly. The kids were so spent they didn't put up a fight to be told it was bedtime. Anne had graciously found some children's books she had buried away so that Y/N could read to the kids before they went to bed. Y/N read to Jo and Wes as they cuddled close, hands tucked under their chin as they let their mother's soothing voice lull them to sleep.
Y/N sits in the living room drinking her tea, discussing tomorrow's plans before heading up. As she finishes her tea, she goes to the kitchen to wash her mug when she hears the front door open.
"Anne?" Y/N calls out softly.
She walks out and sees Anne at the bottom of the steps, also curious as to who could be at the door.
"Mum," she knows that voice well. It sends chills through her body and makes her cheeks warm up.
"Harry," Anne responds.
"We need to talk, Mum," Harry says in a defeated voice.
Y/N looks at Anne and gives her two options to head upstairs, and she'll tell Harry that they're here or let Anne do it. Harry must have noticed an extra car in the driveway, as cowardly as she wants to be.
She nods, following behind Anne.
"Mum," he pulls her in for a hug, sighing in relief. Y/N holds her breath when he lifts his head and sees her. "Y/N," he gasps.
"Hi, H."
"Thought you were at your mum's." He steps away from Anne and towards you.
She shrugs, "needed a bit more love than that."
Harry understands what she means because he's here as well. He knows best how well Anne makes someone feel welcomed and safe.
"I'm going to bed." Y/N kisses Anne's cheek, whispering a good night. She passes by Harry squeezing his shoulder, "kids are in your room if you want to see them."
Harry feels his chest hurt. Of course, he wants to see his children. He also wants to follow Y/N to bed and hold her close. He wants to tell her he promises that he's going to do better. He spoke with Jeff and told him there would be no tours for a while and that albums might follow, but his focus is on his family. Jeff understood, he was shocked at first, but everyone stood behind him.
But instead of saying anything, he lets her go up, watching her every step until she's down the hall. Anne sighs as she sees Harry stare at Y/N longingly, the same look he had when he first brought her over when they had been dating only a few months.
"My boy," Anne's voice was full of sympathy.
"Mum," his voice cracks, "I messed up, and I–I might lose them."
"Course you won't. You showed up, didn't you? That's something." She assures him.
"I love her and my angels. I can't lose them. I won't survive it."
"Then fight Harry, prove to her you can't live without them."
"I will."
The following day Y/N is up early, to no surprise, ready to help get her kids' day started. As she starts to get up, she goes to grab her phone but stops when she sees a note sitting right on top.
Morning early bird,
Fancy a walk? Mum promised to watch Wes and Jo.
Love, H
Y/N can't ignore the flutter in her heart and gets dressed in her large red coat Harry gifted her five Christmases ago when he saw her eyeing it at the shops but didn't have the heart to tell him because it was way above the price range they settled on for each other. There's a chance of snow, and she wants to be prepared.
She checks in on Jo and Wes, sprawled wide on the twin-sized bed, limps over each other but neither bothered. Walking down the steps, she sees Harry sitting on the couch with a book in hand.
"Morning," she voices.
Harry is quick to set his book down and stands to look at her. "Hi, love." His eyes roam her from top to bottom, and she can feel the familiar heat on her cheeks, knowing what he'll say next, so she stops him.
"Got your note."
"Are you up for it?"
She nods, "I am."
"Do you want to eat first?" Y/N agrees, already stepping that way when Harry joins. "Can make you some eggs?"
"Tea and toast will be fine."
After a quiet breakfast, they both slip on their boots and head out, not before leaving a note for Anne that they'll be back soon. They begin the walk side by side with a small gap in between. Both are distracted, trying their best to get their thoughts in order. Y/N isn't sure how much they've walked when Harry speaks up.
"Love,"
Y/N stays silent.
"I'm sorry." She lets him go on. "I–I don't know how I let myself get blind, but I'm sorry."
She lets that sink in. He's acknowledging that he's been lost in his own world. That's a start.
"I won't be announcing a new tour," Harry tells her. "Maybe not for a while."
"But you love being on stage."
"Y/N,"
She hears the change in his voice and halts her walking.
"You're the love of my life, my heart. With our children is where I should be. I guess getting lost in shows was easier than knowing you all couldn't be there with me." The confession is enough to put Y/N at ease, but it doesn't solve everything.
"We need to find common ground, Harry."
"I know." Harry pauses, looking out at the river they walked along for the first time many years ago, then turns back to Y/N, locking eyes with her. "That's why I'm taking a break."
"And when you decide to go off again?"
"We'll talk."
"Like we did before," she throws back because she's heard this promise and has difficulty believing it.
"I know it's all mostly my fault, but you didn't say much."
Y/N knows he's right, but he's not the one who stayed behind. "What could I do? I had to put them first. I always do. I always will."
"I'm not–"
"You were across the world, and they needed a strong mother, and if I brought it up and it didn't go my way, I would have broken." The tears are begging to come out, but she holds them in.
"Didn't I tell you if you needed me, I was a plane ride away."
That's what breaks the dam.
Y/N grows silent, letting her sobs fill the air. Harry is too nervous to touch her in case she doesn't want his touch.
"I did that," she whispers.
"What?"
She shrugs, "I don't know where you were, but both kids had fevers, and it was so hard. I called you. I had no answer. I tried again and again, and nothing. I left a voicemail, and nothing. I reached out to Jeff, and no one would answer me. Maybe you were sleeping or in between travels or whatever, but something broke in me that day because I had to rely on a friend to take my children and me to the hospital and had their support but not my husband's."
That's when Y/N sees Harry's tears fall, and they're endless. She knows he must be imagining two crying babies and a panicked mother needing someone by her side assuring her they'd get through it. Yet, she had no one.
"I didn't know," he sobs. "Why didn't you bring it up?"
"Because you rang the following morning cheery like you never saw the voicemail, I figured you'd bring it up if you heard the voicemails and saw the missed calls."
"I'm the worst."
Y/N shrugs, not denying it, instead turning back towards the house.
"Don't want to keep walking?"
"No," she replies honestly.
"I have faith in us," he tells her, brushing his pinky with hers.
"I do too."
Harry lets out a deep sigh. It's a step forward.
"But this isn't about just me, Harry."
And he knows that. He knows he has much to make up to his angels, Wes and Josie.
"I know our kids. You know I love them."
"I do…but they don't. At least not always. They don't understand why their dad is always gone or doesn't pick them up at the school gates or daycare on the odd day she goes."
It's the little things he's missed out on that they miss as well. "Will you help me?" Before she can answer, he continues. "I know I don't deserve your help, but you're my forever."
"Okay, H."
That's the end of the conversation. It seems as if they've reached the house. Harry opens the door helping Y/N out of her coat and lining up her boots with his. Y/N walks into the kitchen first, seeing Anne making breakfast. The kids immediately notice her letting out a loud "Good morning" as they munch on their berries.
Wes smiles as she presses a kiss on his cheek, but it dims when he takes a look at her face and then at Harry, who is right behind her. That's odd, Y/N thinks. She turns to ask Harry, but it seems that Harry doesn't even notice. He's wishing them a good morning leaving endless kisses on both cheeks. Harry helps Josie eat her berries, giggling as he pretends to miss her mouth.
"Mummy," Josie calls for her attention.
"Yes, my love." Y/N steps close, bushing her curls back away from her eyes.
"Itch," she mumbles.
Y/N fails to hold back a laugh, "who darling?"
She pouts, looking at her brother for help.
"Michal, Mummy." He answers like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Y/N lets out a small laugh because, of course, she's asking for Michal. Every time they made a trip up here, Gemma and Michal also made a stop. It seems Jo wanted to see one of her favorite people.
"He's not here. Why don't we give him a call, huh?"
The siblings cheer, coming to sit on her lap, and she holds the phone up to her ear, waiting for the person to answer.
Harry steps away from the hurt, not knowing who his family is referring. He feels a hand settle on his back, rubbing it in circles, soothing him just a little. "Michal, your sister's partner, relax."
"I thought–" He doesn't know what he thought.
Anne frowns, "if you thought that, then there is lots to figure out." She gestures to Y/N, laughing with her children as they speak to Michael on the phone. "You're that woman's world."
"I didn't think she was."
"Didn't you?"
"I-I don't know how I messed it all up."
"Lack of communication possible," Anne offers because she knows it's something she always dealt with when he left home all those years ago.
"Anne, Gem, and Michal are coming for lunch to spend time with the kids."
Anne claps her hands together out of joy, "wonderful, all my favorite people coming together."
"You don't mind if Harry and I step out for the afternoon when they arrive, do you?" Y/N asks, knowing Harry and her still have a bit to talk through.
"Not at all."
Harry gazes at her curiously. What is she up to? "Love,"
"Need some privacy to chat." She tells him.
She's right, but now he wonders what she has planned.
After breakfast, Harry goes up with Wes to help him change and wash up while Y/N helps Josie as she was asking for two braids in her now long hair. As Wes leads the way to Harry’s old room, he’s quiet, and it’s concerning.
“You alright, bub?” Harry asks as he shuts the door to give them privacy.
Wes shakes his head, not able to meet Harry’s gaze.
“Want to talk about it?”
Wes takes off his top and slips on a white undershirt and then the sweater Harry knows Y/N laid out for him, knowing he’ll want to go outside and keep him warm.
“You make mummy sad,” he mumbles, but Harry hears him clearly.
Harry flinches at his five-year-old son’s words. It’s sad because his son has been able to notice something he hasn’t.
“What?” Harry sinks down to his knees right in front of Wes.
“You make her cry. I hear her sometimes.” He shrugs, and Harry knows he’s failed them.
“When?”
“Few times.”
He’s not specific. It’s more than once, and Harry realizes it’s all his fault his family doesn’t trust him to stay.
“I love your Mummy,” Harry tells Wes, needing his son to believe him.
Wes frowns, looking down at Harry, “Mummy says we don’t make those we love cry.”
Harry tries his best to blink away his tears, “your mummy is right.” He exhales slowly. “I guess it’s because I’m never home. Does that make you sad?”
Wes nods quickly, “but I have to be strong like Mummy for Jo.”
Harry feels that, like a stab straight to the heart, he doesn’t deserve his perfect family. Not one bit, but he’s going to give it everything he has to make it up to them.
“Oh, my sweet boy, I’m so sorry. I love your Mummy and you and Josie. You’re my life, and I promise to never make her cry again.” Wes nods as if taking in all his words. “I’m not leaving for a long time, and if I do, you will all come with me.”
Wes pouts, “I like school.”
Harry laughs. “Course you do. Mummy says you’re doing brilliant. We’ll go in the summer, do a proper holiday together.”
“Together, good.”
Wes runs out of the room, leaving Harry to cry alone in his old bedroom. He has to fix it. He has so much to make up for.
Harry spends the morning playing blocks with Wes and Josie as Y/N colors in one of Josie's dinosaur books, where she'll occasionally leave Harry to give Y/N a new color or change the page for her. It's a lovely time of aimless talking and spending time with his favorite people. At one point, his mum steals Wes to help her bake cookies that they'll be able to eat after lunch. Soon after, Josie falls asleep on Y/N's lap as she watches Zootopia, a film that Harry remembers seeing multiple times with Wes. Curse child movies for making him more emotional now as a father.
The day moves at a faster pace when he's having fun, it seems, because the next thing he knows, Gemma and Michal are walking through the door, and she's shouting for her nephew and niece to come greet her. Josie, having woken up around ten minutes ago, stumbles her way to the door and into Michal's open arms. He's quick to prop her on his hip as Josie tells him all about the dream she had. Gemma has all of Wes' attention as he goes on and on about all the backyard's open space as if their home doesn't have twice the distance. Wes says it's because they have cats.
Y/N and Harry share a look at the same time, something that hadn't happened in a long time. They're both thinking the same thing and know that it might be a nice gift to get them a cat for the holidays. It'll be an excellent addition to the family, giving Scott a new friend to play with. They all eat lunch together, and it's loud, and everyone is talking over each other, mainly Wes and Jo, but Harry swears he's never been happier. The smile on Y/N's face is one he wants her to have every day going forward.
Jo sits in Michal's lap, claiming him as her person for the day, not that he minds. He's a natural with her. After seeing that both her children will be fine, Y/N begins to gather her stuff gesturing for Harry to say his goodbyes and meet her by the door. Y/N gives Josie a big hug and endless kisses before settling her back next to Michal as they do a puzzle together. She lingers a moment too long with Wes whispering before he wraps his arms around her neck in a tight hug that she returns. Y/N smiles at him as she goes to put on his coat. Harry kisses Jo telling her he loves her before heading to Wes.
"Love you, Wes."
"Take care of Mummy, Daddy."
"Always, bub."
He smiles, letting Harry place a kiss on his cheek.
Going outside, he sees Y/N in the car, adjusting the heat as she waits for him. Once she sees him buckle in his seatbelt, she pulls out, and off they go. He has no clue where she might be taking him, even if he does know the town well. They sit in comfortable silence, with no music playing or small talk. It's like old times when they were able to just enjoy sitting together.
The drive couldn't have been longer than fifteen minutes when she pulls over and sees a frozen pond. Harry chuckles. He was not at all prepared for this.
"I have ice skates if you're up for it?"
"Is the ice good?" He wouldn't dare let her skate with the slight chance the ice may crack.
"Mr. Crane promises it'll hold. He says he has been coming out to check it every morning."
With that assurance, he agrees.
Once the skates are on, his skates feel a bit snug, as if his shoes shrunk, but it means better stability. Lessening the slight fear of tumbling over with nothing to hold him up. Both stay right by each other's side, going slow. They take a few laps testing the ice before gaining more confidence to go faster and a bit further.
"Let's play a game," Y/N suggests.
"A game?" He repeats.
"Mhm."
"Okay, sure."
Y/N grins at him, and he feels his heart speed up at the sight. It's a marvelous one.
"Tell me a time you were happy, and I'll counter it with a time when I was sad. Then we'll swap."
Harry isn't sure, "are you sure it's a good game?"
Y/N shrugs, "I'm filled with both. Six months was a long time apart."
Harry relents, as always, what Y/N wants, she gets.
She waits for him to start.
"The recital. It was amazing to see how much Wes has improved."
"I cried last night. I wasn't expecting you to arrive."
Harry takes a deep breath, "the drive here was quiet even with your favorite playlist on."
"Mornings where Jo and Wes climb into bed with me," she answers easily.
"I don't think our kids like me," Harry says softly.
Y/N stumbles but rightens herself, not having expected him to say that. He shakes his head, telling her to go on. "Painting with Jo is always fun. She thinks I'm the best artist to ever exist in her eyes."
Harry nods along as if agreeing. "Seeing how happy my mum makes our kids."
The game goes on for a while, back and forth. Y/N tells him about all the best moments he's missed, like when Josie learned to jump rope when Wes scored his first goal and how she loves hosting game nights. She also told him that it's hard to find time for herself to not feel overwhelmed, that when their kids cry, she feels like a terrible parent and wishes he was home more. While Harry expressed happy moments on tour when Mitch and him wrote a new song, countered with uncomfortable nights sleeping in the studio. Harry talks about how tour made him realize all those moments weren't his happiest.
It's Harry's turn once more. He pauses to think and then says something that has been playing on loop in his mind. "Our son thinking, I make you sad."
Y/N stops skating; he keeps going for a moment, thinking she'll continue in a second instead. She crumbles to the ground crying into her hands.
"Hey, love, lovie, you're okay," he sinks down next to her, rubbing down her arms.
"He's so small," she manages to say between sobs.
"It's all my fault." Harry reminds her.
"No, I–I'm supposed to be his mum. I'm supposed to be strong for him, and I haven't been." Y/N has never felt pain like this like she's letting down her children.
That she's failed them.
"No, you're not supposed to hide like that. Parenting is a partnership, and you've done it alone for too long," Harry tells her, moving her hands away from her face to have her look at him. "It's my fault. Do you understand?"
She doesn't move an inch, but looking into her eyes, he knows she understands.
"I love you, Y/N. I do, and I will for the rest of my life, that I can promise you."
"But–"
"Zero buts."
"What about your career?"
"We'll decide together. I'm a free man until March when we decide to resign or change up my contract."
"Then you leave," she states.
"Not anymore." Y/N looks away, not believing a word he says, and that's on him for making her doubt him. Now it's his turn to prove to her he's on her team, that he's on her side.
"Every decision I make, you'll be there," he promises.
"You can't not work then…then you'll resent us. You'll resent me," she whispers.
"I could never," his voice was firm and full of assurance. "Best thing to ever happen to me." Y/N looks into his eyes, trying to find any hint of a lie to make her second guess her choice. She sees the tear streaks down his cheeks and knows he's being genuine. "Jeff knows you're first."
"Then what's your plan?"
"Tour during summer when our kids aren't in school. Easier for you to join me if you'd be up for it, of course."
"Summer?"
"Three to four months, nothing longer than that," he explains. "School year, I'm yours. Full-time stay-at-home-dad."
"Would that make you happy?"
"You make me happy," he leans his forehead against hers, letting their breaths mix together, "I've prevented myself from that."
Y/N takes in all he's said. There are a lot of promises he just laid out, but each one sounds realistic and double. She believes in him and their love.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"I trust you, H."
"I'm hoping to earn more of that trust back little by little, my heart. I'm okay with graveling if I have to."
Y/N rolls her eyes because he's unbelievable. Yet, she loves him with everything she has.
"Come on, you goober. Let's go see our kids."
As Harry accepts the hand, she stretched out for him, he grabs it but instead of pulling himself up, he pulls her towards him, sending them to lay flat on the ice and her on his chest, his arms secure around her waist. Her laughs bubble around them, and he can't help but join in.
"I love you, my heart. I promise it will all be different," he vows to her.
"I love you, Harry. I believe you." She presses herself closer against him. "But anything other than what you promised, and things will not be this easy."
"Not going to let that happen."
"Good."
Y/N isn't sure who closed the gap if it was her or Harry, but all she knows is that kissing Harry is like coming home. It's a warm feeling that spreads all over. It's a safety blanket.
It's falling in love all over again. She can't wait to fall in love with him for a lifetime.
The drive back to Anne's Y/N let Harry take the wheel even if it was a short drive as opposed to when they left; it was quiet, and the hum of the radio. Now it was flowing conversation and light teasing happening.
Harry opens the door with a loud "we're back" Y/N and Harry share a look when they can hear the loud patter of footsteps getting closer and closer until they're a few feet in front of them. Jo and Wes see them, and Y/N and Harry kneel to get their kids' height. Both children focus their energy on running straight to Y/N, and if it were anyone else, it would have sent them tumbling back, but Y/N stands as strong as a pillar.
"Hi, my babies. Were you good?" Y/N asks as she places a kiss on both their cheeks.
"Yes" and "Always" were the two answers given. They release Y/N to hug Harry, one he basks in and squeezes a bit too tight as Wes and Jo squirm to be released.
Wes returns to Y/N, placing his small palm on her cheek, "you happy, Mummy?"
Y/N feels tears well up but does her best to fight them off. Wes has always been in tune with Y/N's emotions and hopes she never has to put them in a position like this again.
"The happiest," she assures Wes."
"Good." Wes gives them both a big smile before running off.
"Up, Daddy?" Josie voices, surprising Harry.
"Of course, angel." He lifts her in his arms with ease standing up with her, hoping Jo never asks to be let down.
Jo frowns while in his arms, "cold jack."
Harry looks down at his coat, seeing as he didn't have time to remove it, "my apologies, princess."
He passes her off for Y/N to hold for a moment when Jo brings her hands up to squish Y/N's cheeks, landing a kiss on her lips. Y/N giggles loving how affectionate Josie has always been.
"Hey, my lips," Harry jokes with his daughter.
Y/N rolls her eyes, Harry having no idea how possessive his daughter is. Josie plants another chaste kiss on Y/N's lips and then sticks her tongue out at Harry, truly showing her age.
"Now Josie, she's mine."
"No," she answers stubbornly.
"Jo."
"My mummy!" She reminds him as if he could forget.
"She's my wife."
Josie shakes her head, and those words mean nothing to her instead, she buries her face in Y/N's neck, "mine" is all she repeats.
"Ours," Harry compromises.
She slowly lifts her head, turning to stare at Harry. It's a word she doesn't recognize—something she's never had to associate with her mother.
"We can share, Mummy, yeah. Like when you share your food with Wes and Nana." Harry explains.
Josie thinks about it for a few seconds before accepting, "yes."
Y/N stands there feeling her heart might burst from all the love she's receiving. "We share, Daddy."
"Want to go with Daddy again?" He asks with stretched-out hands.
Y/N passed her over, seeing as Jo nodded eagerly at the thought of being back in her father's embrace. Josie snuggles close to his chest, and Y/N knows there is little time before Jo falls asleep.
"Sleep, please."
"Yes, bub, I'll take you to sleep."
"Read?" She asks timidly.
Wes bounces, overhearing his favorite word, "read to us?"
The smile on Harry's face is unmatched. He's been missing out on so much, but not anymore. "Whatever you want," he promises.
They begin to walk up the steps together, Harry doing his best to follow both conversations that are happening at once. Y/N stares at them going up together when her three loves turn around and smile at her.
"Coming, my heart?"
"Coming, Mummy?" Jo stretches out her small hand for Y/N to take.
The smile on Y/N's face widens, and she begins to feel her heart mending back together. "Nowhere else I would rather be."
Y/N takes Josie's hand, placing a small kiss on the back before settling it back down. A hand on Wes' shoulder and Harry's back as they all walk up the steps as a family.
Not perfect, but trying.
thank you so much for reading 💜💜💜💜 i love you endlessly
please reblog and send me a message if you want 😉
#harry styles#harry styles angst#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfic#harry styles one shot#harry styles x reader#harry styles writing#harry styles fluff#dad harry x reader#harry angst#harry styles fic rec#harry styles x you#harry fluff#angst#pleasing#harry imagine#harry styles prompt#one direction#as it was#grape juice#keep driving#matilda
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