#i had this in drafts for at least a week its old | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

obsessive-ego · 10 months

Text

Slumber party panic

Reader x musical Beetlejuice

Nsft

Reader has a vagina

Fic where a bunch of teens summon beetlejuice moments before the two of you are intimate

This has been in my drafts forever

...

It's been a long hard week, coworkers have been calling in sick back to back to back, leaving you to cover, so that ment longer shifts, and rougher days but such was retail, you tried not to let it get to you, and kept telling yourself the you'll treat yourself on payday.

Mentally you were fine, but it DID take a toll on you physically, you'd stumble home after a nine hour shift, being the only competent employee on that day, drop your bag, sit on the couch and just stare into space exhausted, leaving your coat on, for about an hour before you'd force yourself up and put something together to eat, at least that was how you'd spend time after work on the days you were alone.

On days beetlejuice 'graced you with his presence', the moment you stumble exhausted into your home the ghoul was already on you, with a summoned clone or two to help take away your coat and bag, and eagerly bringing you to the kitchen where a hot and ready meal was waiting for you, it was so sweet, and honestly the first time he did this for you, you cried, for a demon he was such a sweet boyfriend.

Which brings us to today, another week in the books, you had the next day off and were really looking forward to resting

"Ya know babes, it's been awhile since we made the sheets sing" beetlejuice pulled into his side as the two of you sat together on the couch ignoring the gameshow that had been providing background noise

"I know" you yawn

"So how bout I remind ya why you're with me to begin with?" He snorts out a laugh, pink hues beginning to pop in his hair

You chuckle "I'm not just dating you for your dick beej-"

"I know toots, you're hear for my rear too♡" he pushes nuzzling into you neck, a hand moving to your upper thigh, you give a soft laugh feeling the bubble of excitement begin to start up, but then you yawn again

"Am I boring you?" Beetlejuice chuckles, knowing damn well the week you've just survived

"Sorry Bee-" you start

"Forgetta bout it, why don't you let ol' mister beebleboose do all the work tonight? You deserve a treat for being such a big strong working breather, and come on babes, I gotta fulfill my end of the bargain, since I'm your trophy husband♡"

You give the ghoul a playful push, moving him off you "we're not married beej-"

Beetlejuice crawls up onto your lap, trapping you between him and the couch "not yet♡"

The idea of getting married to beetlejuice always gave you butterflies, you knew the drill with him, the dead marrying the living gave them another, or in Beetlejuice's case, his first shot at life.

"Well?" The demon snaps you out of your thoughts

"Well what?"

"Do you wanna be my pillow princess tonight?♡" he snickered knowing how you weren't too keen on the nickname

"I don't know beej, being called 'princess' isn't really a turn on-"

"Alright my pillow prince♡" he coos, pinching your cheek

You swat his hand away "I do miss being intimate with you-"

"Then its settled!" Beetlejuice scoops you up, his hair now magneta, buzzing with excitement "call me old fashioned toots, but as much as I love railing ya on the couch, I'd rather tonight we take it to the boudoir♡" The ghoul quickly carried you over his shoulder to your room, making sure to give your bum a pinch before dropping you on the bed.

"God slash satan I've been waiting all week for this" beetlejuice purrs, crawling up on the bed and leaning over you, his magenta hair buzzing and giving the room a romantic glow

"Me too" you sigh leaning up giving the demon a soft kiss, it's been a rough week, and to be honest you've been feeling guilty saying no to him every night, you wanted to as well, you just wanted sleep more.

Beetlejuice pushes you back down on the bed, breaking the kiss, not like him, normally you'd have to remind him you need air to live, but whatever

"You're wearing too much clothes, here, allow me♡" he chuckles before snapping his fingers, your clothes vanishing in thin air, aside from a simple pair of black panties.

The ghoul leans back taking a good look at your mostly naked form, even though he's seen you like this so many times, his lecherous stare always made you a tad shy.

"It's been too long" he groans loosing his tie

"It's only been a week" you try to sit up only to have the ghoul push you back down

"Time works different when you're dead, now close your eyes and give daddy some sugar" beetlejuice purrs leaning forward, his long striped tongue leading the way

You do as instructed, having no desire to be what some would call a brat, you close your eyes and lightly part your lips ready to start a much desired night of passion.

You waited for a second or two, yet nothing, you knew beetlejuice as an inpatient guy, especially when it came to being intimate, so you peak.

He was gone

"Beetlejuice?"

Nothing

"Beetlejuice?"

Still nothing

"Beetle-?" You stop half way, knowing he'd normally stop you before you got all three B words out, but he didn't come

Oh, he was messing with you

"Okay" you start breaking the B word chain, then it hits you, maybe he's gonna try that thing the two of you were talking about, awhile ago you mentioned to beetlejuice you thought the idea of being 'railed' or 'taken advantage of' by an invisible entity is incredibly hot and if he was up to it, you'd very much like to try it with him, and by God, the demon was foaming at the mouth, and practically vibrating with excitement when you asked him that.

As that thought crossed your mind you eagerly lay back down against the pillows, sliding your panties downs leaving them hanging on your ankle, and spreading your legs. You lay there beaming with excitement waiting for the shoe to drop, but as 5 minutes pass your feelings fade to disappointment

Maybe this is beej's way if telling you he didn't really want to have sex with you tonight, maybe when he asked you earlier he was hoping you'd turn him down again, your heart squeezed at the thought and the humiliation you put yourself through, laying there like an idiot, was he getting back at you for turning him down ever night this week?

"If you didn't want to have sex you should have said something you ass" you cry getting off the bed and beginning to find something more comfortable and cozy to go to sleep in.

"You can forget sharing the bed tonight too" You couldnt help but tear up, he made you look like a fool, waiting for him laying there naked for almost an hour, he's probably in this room laughing at you, enjoying his shitty revenge game.

You plug your phone in and crawl under the covers of your bed, already warm from you laying there like a dumbass, you wanted to cry until you couldnt breath, this had to be the meanest thing ANYONE, let alone your partner, have ever done to you, just as you turn over ready to cry yourself to sleep, your phone rings.

You grab your phone off the night stand, wipe your eyes and awnser a shaky "hello?" Assuming it was a coworker calling last minute to ruin your day off tomorrow.

"Hey, babes? Call me back asap!"

"Beetlejuice?" What did he mean call him back? Wasn't he here?

"Two more doll, hurry up!"

He sounded alittle upset

"Where are you?"

He groans "just call me back and I'll explain" you could hear young girls crying in the background "I'll just be a minute" he shouts away from the phone, but still is herd by you

"Beetlejuice, beetlejuice, beetlejuice" you get it over with tired of this back and forth, you hear the clunk of the phone he was holding hit the floor then the disconnect tone.

In a puff of green smoke he was back, the magneta in his hair now gone, replaced with an awful mix of purple and red, the pink that graced his suit moments before his disappearance? Now the same awful mix as his hair, though the colours quickly fade back to pink when he sees you

"BABES!" He lunges at you, the bed creaks when he makes contact with the mattress, the demon was quick to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle in, to which you push away

"What happened?" Your voice was stern and demanding, you wanted answers and wanted them now.

"Aw babes" beetlejuice starts rubbing the back of his neck "it was rough, apparently some kids at Lydia's school herd her summon me, so they did it too, ya know, a bloody Mary party game situation"

He was pulled away, he was pulled away against his will, he didn't snub you, god this made your gut turn, you were upset for nothing.

"Thank whoever I was still fully clothed when it happened huh babes?" The ghoul gives you a nudge "let me set the scene for ya toots" Beetlejuice crawls up against the headboard with you, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you in

...

"Give daddy some sugar♡" was the last thing he said to you before being pulled from your bed.

Lips still puckered leaning forward, an unfamiliar scream breaks the mood

Opening his eyes, before him sat 3 teenage girls

The room was dimly light by a hand full of led candles

It took the ghoul merely a moment to adjust to the situation, adjusting his tie, and smoothing his hair back, no longer magneta, but now red, these little brats ruining the night he's been craving all week.

"I cant believe it worked"

"A real live ghost"

"This is so cool"

"What have we done?! He's totally gonna kill us"

The chatter amongst themselves as of this was all a silly game

Beetlejuice clears his throat to stop noise and gain the kids attention

"Alright-" he starts

"Okay mister ghost, we summoned you so you have to do as we say, just like you did for that creepy lydia girl" what beetlejuice could only assume was the ringleader in this pack of teens, stood up straight poking him in the chest, the ghoul cringes at the mention of Lydia, guess Babs was right, maybe the two of em should be more careful in public spaces, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna to spread it around he got caught and summoned. Beetlejuice pushes the thought of a lecture out of his mind, he had bigger fish to fry, meaning to get home and rail you, you must be worried sick, you poor vagina drying up in his absence.

"First off we want you to-" the kid's voice snapped him from his musing back to the current problem

"Alright kid, I'm gonna stop ya right there, this isn't a 3 wishes genie situation, I'm a demon, ya know, from hell, and you 3 pulled me away from some serious demon business, I should eat the lot of you for it"

As Beetlejuice ranted his form changed, becoming more monstrous, his teeth shapper, his claws more prominent, his eyes more snake like, all around more intimidating.

The teens huddle together in fear pleading for their safety and passing around the blame of who's idea to summon him was.

"But I won't" at those words the demon features fade and he returns to his default look, although still red "if you kids do something for me"

At this point the girls were sobbing, noses running, babbling unintelligible sounds, and clinging together for dear life

"Can I use your phone?"

...

"Wow" was all you could say

"I know, I know, I've been through alot tonight, I could really use some comfort, so how bout we~" he leans into you nuzzling his beard into you neck, you gasp at the sensation, feeling his tongue lick the stripe up your neck.

"Oh Bj♡" You let out a soft moan

"I know toots♡" he groans guiding you back to laying beneath him "now where were we?♡"

...

.....

Bonus

Lydia: hey so that girl who's been being mean to me hasn't done anything to me in awhile

Beej: ....haha weird....

Y/n: ...yeah weird

#beetlejuice x reader #rambling #muscial beetlejuice x reader #nsft

140 notes · View notes

hushed-chorus · 27 days

Text

Hi folks! I hope you've all had a grand week! I just ate a bowl of crunchy nut cornflakes. It was pretty epic.

Chapter three of Those Glowing, Magickal Years went live today. Sorry for the wait, and hopefully the 8k word count makes up for the delay. That means the fic is 21k words so far, and we've only just come to the close of Year One. @erzbethluna keeps telling me this fic will end up at least 300k, and I fear she may be right.

In the spirit of Wednesday's rec post, please accept six sentences from TGMY that feature the word 'blood'.

Every bag of blood I sup on, every morsel I learn, I do so because he’s given it to me. Today he’s a particularly unruly barrage of bangs and bravado, but at least he doesn’t smell like blood. “That bloody sword answered only to Pitches for generations!” Hot blood splashed across my hands, face, clothes, and the carpet. I want to lap up his insolent blood, let it thread all its heady warmth into me, let his heart coil around mine and bring it to life, just for a few precious, strong beats. What the bloody hell is he up to?

Tags below the cut, as well as some thoughts on another WIP I may pick up

@artsyunderstudy @facewithoutheart @captain-aralias @raenestee @cutestkilla

@ivelovedhimthroughworse @larkral @stitchyqueer @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

@ileadacharmedlife @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @whogaveyoupermission

@nightimedreamersworld @fatalfangirl @thewholelemon @onepintobean @shrekgogurt

@theearlgreymage @martsonmars @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony @valeffelees

@j-nipper-95 @rimeswithpurple @wellbelesbian @imagineacoolusername

@youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @supercutedinosaurs @alexalexinii @bookish-bogwitch

@cosmicalart @bazzybelle @theotherhufflepuff @that-disabled-princess @prettygoododds

@mooncello @noblecorgi @roomwithanopenfire @emeryhall @monbons

Those Glowing, Magickal Years still has a solid grip on me. However, another fic idea has started beating me around the head. A good old chonk of time ago, I mentioned I was working on a snowbaz fic inspired by Fallout New Vegas, provisionally titled Hope Springs Eternal. Well, I may have watched the Fallout show and that idea is shaking me by the lapels.

In addition, presently TGMY is from the POV of tween Baz and Simon, but I have the itch to write something that's slower in pace. Something that has a narrative voice that allows some decadence in the writing. Despite it's source of inspiration, Hope Springs Eternal imagines a post-apocalyptic world that has struggles, but also has magic, goodness and space for hope. (And vampire angst.)

Now, I don't want to actively work on THREE fics (yes, FAIAP has not been abandoned, just on a school-related hiatus). I'd go loopy.

That being said... Well, my initial draft of Blood, Salt, and Hummingbirds was written in an obscenely beautiful notebook. Writing by hand is a nice relief sometimes, especially if you're tired and sore. The writing feels low-pressure and indulgent, compared to the focus I put into writing on laptop.

So I may dive into that idea in that format. If it makes good progress, I'll get it typed up and share it.

#six sentence sunday #snowbaz fic #those glowing magickal years #vampire angst

40 notes · View notes

everythingmp3 · 4 days

Text

in good hands

adult!Van x fem!reader

working at Lottie´s retreat has its regular routine, which suddenly gets disrupted when you cross paths with one of her old friends. lucky for Van, you are in a giving mood and might just know how to help her unwind after a stressful day.

warnings: minors dni. smut, reader "tops" but just lightly

author´s note: hii it´s been a while since I’ve dropped a Van fic but I found this in my drafts and edited it a little bc I thought some of you might enjoy it during our painfully long wait for season 3! so here u go, something lighthearted <3 (this is set during 2x7 when they’re all off doing their little therapies, a brief Lottie appearance at the end)

people might have assumed that the way you found your job at Lottie´s compound was some exciting story, but it really wasn´t; nobody recruited you, there was nothing cult-like about it, you simply needed a temporary job and had found it online.

they were going to pay well, on top of giving you a whole cabin to yourself, so the decision to send off your resume and accept their offer had been a very easy one. the place was serene and refreshing after coming there from your place in the city and your new boss, Lottie or “Charlotte” as everyone called her, seemed sweet in both a maternal and sisterly kind of way way. you could see why everyone was enthusiastic about the community she´d created there, but to you it was just a way to earn money, you didn´t buy into the whole spiritual aspect. still, you were glad to play along for anyone who wanted you to, agreeing with others that your time there was very “transformative” and that you were eager to create a “safe space” for any guests that you worked with.

still, some nights it all got a little boring and lonely, about a month into it, you almost felt like you were living in a monastery: no friends, no internet, no junk food, no way to let loose and it didn´t help that hardly anyone at the camp was on the same wavelength as you. you got along with everyone but nobody stood out to you as someone you´d wanna get close to, have fun with, get in trouble with, so you were left to your own devices; sometimes you stole some liquor from the dining hall and drank that on your own at your secret hiding place that you´d discovered about two weeks into being at the compound. it was a spot in the woods, you had to walk about five minutes to reach it, an old bench close to the lake, nobody ever bothered you there.

one day you were particularly tired and exhausted, people had unloaded a lot of emotional bullshit onto you, so around 7 pm you were ready to escape and to have at least an hour to yourself, just sitting there on that bench listening to the birds and trees, zoning out, trying to let the stress of the day go.

while you were already there, Van was still deciding where to go to be left in peace while drinking what she´d just gotten out of her truck. wherever she looked, she saw people dressed in purple who absolutely would not approve of her plan, so her last resort was going into the woods. she almost laughed to herself about how ironic it was, that the day she reunited with her old friends was also the day she went into the woods for the first time in ages.

she was hoping to maybe find a large tree stump she could sit on, but a few minutes into walking she saw something she didn´t expect: you, sitting on a bench. at first she thought fuck. that would have been perfect. for a moment she wanted to turn around, but once she saw that you weren´t wearing purple she got curious, it also helped that you looked rather attractive, even from behind, so she decided to stay. Van didn´t want to startle you, so she tried to sound very calm and polite as she approached you tentatively.

“sorry I really don´t mean to bother you-” you turned around, taken off guard, a little annoyed by the fact that someone else had found their way to your spot, but once you saw Van you knew immediately: oh that´s not a guest. you were confused, she could tell, “I´m a friend of Lottie´s, I was just looking for a place to chill for a moment, but I can leave” your gaze fell from her striking face to her hand that was holding a bottle of what looked like tequila, so a smile spread across your face, “oh no, it´s okay! you can sit if you want. if I can get a sip of that..” you said in a mischievous tone. Van nodded, relieved you didn´t mind her presence, she came over and sat down, handing you the bottle, “here you go. so are you..” you realized you hadn´t told her anything yet “oh right, I work here. so.. shhh” you held an index finger to your lips, grinning, before you took a big sip of the liquor, exhaling after “yeah this is good”, she smiled, eyeing you curiously, “so, I take it the job isn´t all that easy huh?”. you shrugged, looking back at her, realizing how hot she was now that she was sitting so close, the faint scars on her face somehow adding to it, “oh it´s fine, really, this beats any of the other jobs I had so I won´t complain to you. but you know... the whole enlightenment and personal growth obsession does get annoying sometimes.”

she laughed, realizing that you might be the exact person she was looking for, someone who shared her suspicious mindset, “okay I take it you´re not a “believer” then?” you shook your head “nope, absolutely not, I am here to earn money and help people. that´s it, I´m not looking to see the light or whatever the fuck” you took another sip, she let you, more interested in your thoughts than getting fucked up, increasingly glad she had the guts to approach you, “I see. and how do you help? what´s your job title?”, you passed her the bottle as you explained it, “well. I am sort of a physical therapist but the amateur version, nothing super medical, just massages and stuff like that, helping with tension or soreness or just general discomfort.” she didn´t expect that, “really? so you´re good with your hands then?” the moment she said that she realized how shamelessly suggestive it was, but before she could backtrack she saw a flicker of intrigue in your eyes, a pleased smile as you answered, “you could say that, yes”. it dawned on you then that she also found you attractive, and you were starved for genuine excitement, for pleasure, so you challenged her, staring into her eyes, intensely “I mean, I can tell from looking at you that you could also use some help physically” she raised her eyebrows, things were getting interesting“oh really? how so?”.

without warning you reached out to squeeze her shoulder, feeling her wince, “yeah, just as I thought. tense as hell”, an authority to your voice, you saw right through her and she felt her face flush, your grip was harder than she expected, it was turning her on. “well driving for about six hours straight will do that” you were sympathetic then, “oh okay, that´s a lot. I mean, I´m off the clock but I could make an exception if you wanna let me try something” you smiled, kindly, a sweetness to your tone, but not without a certain danger in it, she could tell, and she was getting nervous, but what did she have to lose? so she said “sure. okay..” you nodded, determined, gesturing for her to turn her back to you, “right, please tell me if anything hurts too bad” you instructed, her face burning up by then from the anticipation of your touch.

“you have really nice hair” you said, drawing out the really for emphasis, as you moved it to the front so it wouldn´t be in the way, letting it spill down her chest as you placed your hands on her shoulders, near her neck, slowly pressing your thumbs down through the fabric, “oh thank you” she said, her voice giving away that she was almost a little shy then, it felt exhilarating, to have a hot stranger being that that attentive and charming out of nowhere. the surroundings helped her with relaxing, the sun was setting and the sound of small waves crashing on the shore close to you filled the air. the moment she felt your fingers digging into her flesh her whole body reacted, at first it hurt a little but then she realized you knew exactly what you were doing, there was a distinct skillfulness she could detect, so her muscles relaxed into your palms.

“good?” you inquired, sort of cocky because you knew it was, her eyes were closed by then, “hm, yeah, feels nice”, her voice was smooth and deep, you almost told her to keep talking so you could hear more but instead you silently, diligently continued your touches, moving towards the space between her shoulder blades, pressing down enough so the circles you were drawing could loosen her up, you wished you could have touched her bare skin, a few noises of discomfort escaped her but you could tell it was the good kind of pain, the kind that signaled to you that her body was reacting well. after a few moments of silence and focused pressing and squeezing on your part, she spoke up again,“the people here are spoiled as hell huh? getting treated like this by a pretty girl” you perked up then, your hand moving up to her neck, your touch lighter, almost sensual, closer to a caress than a massage, she could tell that it wasn´t something you´d do to any guest, “did you just call me pretty?” you said, leaning close to her, your head almost resting on her shoulder then, your voice playful, she still had her back turned to you, Van knew there was no going back from that,“well. you are.” she said, matter of factly.

“wanna say that to my face maybe?” you teased, tapping her to signal that she should turn around, which she did, slightly disappointed that you´d stopped touching her, giving you an intense look, “you´re that starved for compliments huh?” she teased back, tilting her head, “I am starved for a lot of things” you were bold then, her expression shifted, a sudden need came over her as she scanned your face, her gaze involuntarily stopping at your lips, “I can tell”, her voice somehow even deeper than before, sending a shiver down your spine. you did not have any shame left in you by that point, moving closer to her, close enough to feel her breath, pressing yourself against her a little while staring at her, your hand on her thigh, “you know. I can think of something else that might help you relax..” she almost blacked out for a second as you said that, your hand placement killing her, your breath on her neck, she had no idea how you´d figured out that she was into being overpowered by other women, but it felt too good to push back. you were almost purring at her as your hand wandered down to her zipper, undoing it for her, but her own hand moved to your face then, grabbing you rather hard, stopping you, “jesus maybe give me a kiss first” she whispered as she pulled you in and you immediately matched her eagerness, her soft lips a thrilling sensation, both of you clearly worked up by that point, kissing turning into making out within a split second, neither of you holding back with the desperate sounds that left you, for a moment Van had the upper hand, feeling you turn needy from her touch, and since you´d initiated she had no problem taking advantage of the fact that you weren´t wearing a jacket, she reached under your shirt and grabbed your chest firmly enough to leave bruises, forcing a whimper out of you, it had been a while since she´d hooked up with anyone and she groped you in a way that made it very clear, taking what she wanted without much regard, but you liked it, feeling wanted like that. once you pulled away to try and breathe, you resumed what you´d started doing before, making sure she was fine with it, “can I?” you sighed against her cheek, breathing her warm scent in, hearing her take unsteady breaths, she nodded, “hmm” a sound of approval, so you pushed your hand down her undone jeans, slipping your fingers into her underwear, the heat of her skin already delicious before you even went further down.

her hand was gripping your arm with force as you did this, the moment your fingers met the wetness that had collected from her arousal you let out a barely audible “god..”, it was all you wanted in that moment, to feel her growing even wetter, so you slid two of your fingers between her lips, getting them all slick before slowly moving them up and down, really savoring it, hearing her moan a little, followed by a soft “fuck”, her nails digging into your skin by then, you couldn´t keep it that slow so you added some pressure to it, some force, the way you knew it felt best from masturbating that way, paying attention to the rest of her body too, kissing the side of her pale neck, all the way to the middle of her throat, which was easily accessible since her head was tilted back in pleasure. you focused on her clit then as you briefly ran your tongue over her neck, making her whine from the double intensity of your fingers and your mouth, “you´re so fucking hot” you sighed before kissing her again, feeling her struggling to kiss you back, in disbelief over having someone so your type practically melting into your hands.

“fuck don´t stop” she begged, as you found the exact right rhythm, her clit throbbing by that point, “go on, cum for me” you cooed as you felt her losing her composure, her hips moving upward to meet your hand, a desperation to it, so you did your best to really put all your strength into the last few moments of getting her off, her underwear a soaking mess by that point, she bit down on her lower lip as she came, almost drawing blood, your face deliberately near hers to hear the sound of her climax, “that´s it” you praised as you slowed down but still kept touching her, getting your fingers covered in her juices even more, the heat and velvety texture a sensation that almost got you to cum as well then. Van was so dizzy with heat that even those light lingering touches felt heavenly, but finally you let go, trying to regain a sense of where you were and what had just happened, a satisfied grin on your face as you looked at her, her face all flushed, her cheeks glowing red as she zipped up her jeans with unsteady hands, shaking her head as she returned your look.

“I think am starting to like this place..” she uttered in a breathy tone, you smiled, "good, I am doing my job right then”, she nodded, grinning, “yeah, I think you really found your calling” enjoying the attention you were showing her with, the afterglow of the endorphins that had unexpectedly rushed her tired body. “oh fuck I think the others might be looking for me by now” she realized that it had gotten dark, her phone was still confiscated of course, so Van knew they might get worried if she randomly disappeared without a trace.

“right, okay, I should get back too I think” you said, standing up, suppressing a laugh as you saw her struggling to put weight onto her still slightly shaky legs, “oh you´re enjoying this huh?” she said, pushing you forward as she approached you, “if I wasn´t running late I´d get you back right now”, you blushed at the thought, “is that a threat?” you asked as she caught up to you, “maybe” she uttered, adjusting her hair and clothes. “well in that case, if you do end up staying here, my cabin is number 7. if you wanna follow through on that”, she couldn´t believe how bold you were being, but it did thrill her, and after a day like that, driving home at night seemed awful, so she thought why not stay until the morning? your offer made it much easier to abandon her escape plan “sure, I´ll keep that in mind” she said, meeting your eyes one last time before you were on the camp grounds again, walking towards the main area.

"you know I saw you guys earlier. in the parking lot", you confessed, "you did? well, believe it or not that was the first time I have seen most of them in like.. 20 something years", that was not what you had thought, "wait really?", "hmm." , she couldn´t help but take the chance of maybe making you feel a little jealous, "actually one of them is my ex. to make things even more awkward..", you laughed, "damn, you have more going on than me, that´s for sure", she looked back at you then, "really? nothing fun you´ve gotten up to here so far?", you shook your head "couldn´t you tell, with how I ambushed you just now?" she laughed, "right, no, it was kinda obvious."

the moment you approached the road that lead to dining hall, you could both see Lottie making her way in your exact direction and let out a simultaneous, “fuck.” as you saw the tall brunette looking straight at you. Van would have to talk to her but you took the easy way out, whispering a “good luck” to her as you excused yourself, avoiding eye contact with Lottie as you passed her, only a brief wave and barely audible “good night” as she was busy fixing Van with her gaze, the look of someone who was about to start an interrogation, her arms crossed. of course she could tell, that blush on both of your faces, the way Van looked at you as you walked away, it was clear as day what you two had been up to. once Van stood in front of Lottie she decided against an apology or justification and went straight for a joke to try and diffuse the tension.

“I think you should give that girl a raise”, she said, Lottie nodded and raised her voice, “oh I am sure I fucking should after whatever it is that you just made her do”. Van protested, acting offended, “made her do?? I´ll have you know that your worker pursued me, thank you very much”, and Lottie couldn´t help but crack a smile then, shaking her head in disbelief, “you know I expected a lot of things to go down when we all reunited earlier, but this was definitely not on the list”. Van shifted her weight, an almost girlish expression on her face then, “well. I mean if it makes you feel better, coming here definitely did help me relax”, “you know what, if that´s what it took then I´m glad. not that I´d ever pimp my workers out on purpose but hey. what happens happens” Van nodded, “exactly. also, you can´t act like you´re so holy, don’t tell me you’ve never seen a hot girl around here and.. considered things” Van teased, Lottie gave her look that said careful, “believe it or not I don´t have ulterior motives” Van laughed, “sure, you never do.” a familiarity to their exchange that made both of them feel a little nostalgic, in the end Lottie was just glad to see Van smile, after all this time she could tell that life had worn her old friend down, and if having some fun with a pretty girl could get her spirits up, who was she to judge? “okay. ready to go back to the others?”, “no.” Van answered, dryly, Lottie smiled, “me neither” as she linked arms with Van and dragged her off to where the other four were waiting.

as they walked Van tried to keep it in mind, “number 7”, the cabin that she might have to casually walk past later that night.

#van palmer x reader #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #van palmer

28 notes · View notes

cheesybadgers · 5 months

Text

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 21)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 7,356

Summary: After arriving in Manizales, Horacio introduces Javier to his family, leading to a long overdue heart-to-heart and a drinking game with a twist.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Discussions of coming out, grief, parental loss, canon-typical violence, allusions to period-typical prejudices, drinking game, smoking, swearing.

Notes: Firstly, I will soften the blow of leaving it so long since my last update with the news that chapter 22 will be posted within the next week or so! I decided to split it in half to give more space to the conversations between the characters. So, hopefully that will make up for my elongated silence lol.

Secondly, I finished drafting the rest of the fic at the end of last year 👀 So, I just need to complete editing on chapter 23 and the epilogue. Then, and I can't believe I'm actually saying this, it will be time to leave these two messy idiots to it.

I think it will take me some time to get my head around it coming to an end, not least of all because it's been almost 3 years since I started working on this behemoth. And I can't believe how much has happened/changed since then, yet my love for this ship and this story has stayed strong and close to my heart. So, a bit of a premature thank you to anyone who has supported it at any point since March 2021, it's been quite the emotional rollercoaster ❤️ As always, I love hearing from my readers, so feel free to drop me a comment/message!

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.

Chapter 21: For Old Times' Sake

A haze of mist hung low on the horizon, clinging to the rolling waves of verdant peaks that bled seamlessly together with worn asphalt until it was impossible to tell where the sky began and the earth ended.

Luckily, the tyres of the hire car were built for rougher terrain, and it wasn’t the first time Horacio had driven this route. Admittedly, it would have been easier to fly. But this had the added benefit of giving Javier a taste of undiscovered territory.

If truth be told, it gifted them more time to mentally prepare for what was getting closer with every hour that passed, each stop off to admire the view and refresh a stubborn way to prolong the status quo.

Progress had been slow for the last hour as the congested traffic crawled along the sharp angles of the road with its treacherous drops only a few inches away. They had come to a standstill behind a bus that allowed passengers off to take photos, and with little room to manoeuvre around the vehicle, a trail of cars had no choice but to wait.

Javier lounged back in the passenger seat, one foot resting on the opposite knee, his elbow leaning on the door, and the window half open.

He watched Horacio’s hands on the steering wheel alternate between clenching and tapping, a particular kind of rigidity returning to his jaw for the first time in months – if not years.

Javier made an executive decision by reaching into the glove box. He pulled out an emergency pack of cigarettes and a lighter they had stashed away before setting off from Medellín.

He lifted one out of the pack and sparked up. “So, did you say it’s a farm we’re heading to?” There was no point asking the obvious, so distraction it was.

“A coffee farm on the outskirts of the city, yeah. It belongs to Fabián’s family. He and his brother, Santiago, do the bulk of the work now their father’s winding down.”

“Sounds nice. And kinda familiar.”

Horacio’s eyes finally left the windshield and met Javier’s with a shadow of a smile. “Yeah, it does. A lot hillier than Texas, though.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be hard.” Javier held out his smoke across the car, their first one that wasn’t post-coital in a long time. But needs must.

Horacio apparently agreed as he accepted it with a huff of resignation. “Fine, one for the road.”

“I think it’s allowed on roads like this one.”

“I did warn you.”

“Hey, no, I like it. Keeps you on your toes.”

“It reminds me of when Papá drove us to visit Tia Salomé and Tio Jairo in Bogotá. He and Mamá let us have sweets for the long journey but warned us the Mareco would take them away if we didn’t behave.”

“The Mareco?”

“La Leyenda del Mareco. It was a story we were told as kids. The Mareco’s a red devil that looks like a lizard on two legs. He steals children’s candy and conjures up a whirlwind to blow them away if they don’t obey their parents.”

Javier nodded in recognition as Horacio passed their cigarette back. “La Llorona was the story used to scare me and my cousins.”

“Oh yeah, we got that one as well.”

“I gotta say, the Mareco explains a lot.”

“About what?”

“About how you developed a problem with authority.”

“What’s your excuse then?”

“What can I say? I was led astray.”

It was a blatant lie, but Javier didn’t care when it caused laughter lines to materialise in the corner of Horacio’s eyes.

“We both know you were drawn to it as much as you resented it.”

“Only where you were concerned. Anyway, you were just as bad even though you'd never admit it.”

“Maybe you were my exception too.”

A moment of silence fell as memory after memory collided, snapshots of how the push and pull between them had evolved with their relationship.

"Listen, I was thinking,” Javier started before taking a drag, “would it make things easier if you wore this? Just while we’re here, I mean.”

Horacio’s gaze drifted to Javier’s exposed skin, the taillights of the car in front catching on the crucifix at his chest. “No,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s yours now.”

By the time their cigarette was finished, the traffic edged forward, and the road ahead and Javier’s hand on Horacio’s leg soon replaced conversation.

------------------------------------------------------

Two and a half hours and several bursts of heavy rain later, the muddied hire car pulled up by a complex of buildings nestled amongst a sea of lush green and vibrant flowers. The buildings sat atop steep slopes of vegetation that led to the coffee plantations below, the foggy skyline above etched with rugged ridges and the ominous outline of Nevado del Ruiz in the distance.

Any sounds from life on a working coffee farm were drowned out by birdsong and their feet crunching beneath them as Horacio and Javier walked up the gravel path towards the main finca. It was typical in its style with a rustic tiled roof, whitewashed bricks and wooden pillars around its perimeter painted in the same shade of terracotta red as the doors and window frames. At the back of the property was a large garden with a patio area, pool and a spectacular view for miles on a clear day.

As they lugged their suitcases onto the porch, Alejandra waited to greet them at the front door. Her dark hair was styled in a bob with waves bordering on curls, the kind Javier imagined Horacio could grow if he wasn’t so insistent on keeping his hair short. At least since leaving the CNP, he had been less strict about cutting it.

The family resemblance between the two siblings was evident in their facial features, particularly in the shape of their noses, charcoal eyes and Cupid’s bows. But Alejandra was a few inches shorter, and her frame was slimmer on account of not carrying the same muscle as Horacio.

“The wanderer finally returns,” Alejandra announced as she pulled Horacio in for a long hug, neither of them keen to be the first to let go. “At least you remembered how to use the phone before turning up on my doorstep.”

“Of course. It's good to see you. But I am sorry I left it so long. There’s, erm…a lot to catch up on.”

“I’ll say.” She peered curiously behind Horacio. “But first, let me say hello to this handsome new face.”

She all but pushed Horacio to one side, forgoing any formal introductions he might have had planned. All Horacio could do was stand and watch two parts of his life converge that, for a long time, he believed would never – and could never – meet.

Javier had hung back by several feet, his hands self-consciously stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as he kept his eyes on the ground until he was spoken to.

“Hi there, I’m Alejandra. You must be Javier?”

“Oh, er, yeah, hi.” For reasons unbeknownst to Javier, he raised his hand in a stiff wave rather than the relaxed handshake he had planned and felt the heat instantly rise in his cheeks. “Pleasure to finally meet you. Beautiful place you’ve got up here.”

“Likewise. And thanks.” Much to Javier's relief, she took the lead and held out a hand for him to shake with a reassuring smile. “Although you’ve got Fabián to thank for that. He’s down there giving a tour to one of our new buyers.” Alejandra turned back to face Horacio. “Mamá’s shopping for school supplies and tonight’s dessert with Juan José, Sofía and Mateo. Ana María’s out with friends. But they should all be back in the next few hours.”

Horacio nodded but remained taciturn, keeping to himself his strong suspicions that Alejandra had made sure she was the only one to greet them upon arrival.

“Come on, you can show Javier around whilst I make us something to eat and drink.”

------------------------------------------------------

It had been a long time since Horacio’s last visit, but he could just about remember the layout of the place. He took Javier through the downstairs rooms, moving from the hall to the living areas and then the kitchen, which appeared tidier now than in his dreams.

The décor was all tiled or wooden floors and earthy tones, contrasting against large airy windows that made the landscape outside seem like a part of the finca. Evidence of three generations and two cats was scattered everywhere in the form of toys, games, videos, tapes, books, various coffee products and photographs from over the years. In one corner stood a home altar containing a large crucifix, prayer cards, rosary beads, candles, and a statue of Virgen de Chiquinquirá. In the opposite corner was a shelf full of old vinyl with Lucho Bermúdez taking pride of place, naturally.

Upstairs housed six bedrooms and three bathrooms, on account of the brood of four children, three adults and a spare room. The spare room was their last stop, where they dumped their luggage, sharing an amused glance at the double bed with a smaller fold-out one laid out in the corner with a pile of fresh sheets.

“As your guest, I take it I get the bigger one?” Javier asked with a spark of mischief in his eye.

“Well, technically, I’m also a guest here. And I did do all the driving.”

“Maybe I’ll, er, flip you for it later.”

Horacio merely raised a brow at the suggestion in Javier’s tone before they headed back downstairs.

They sat under cover of the terrace in the wildly growing garden, just in case the rain returned, which was always a distinct possibility in Manizales. An impressive platter of fruits was laid out on the table alongside freshly made coffee.

“So, how was the wedding?” Alejandra asked as she poured from a pot into three cups, the dark, rich aroma diffusing into the same crisp air the beans were grown and harvested.

Horacio accepted a cup with a thanks and passed the other to Javier. “It was nice. Good to see everyone again.”

“How’s Trujillo doing? It’s been strange seeing his face all over the news.”

Rather than his, Horacio thought with a strange lurch to the gut he wasn’t expecting. “He’s doing well; he’s a Major now. He deserves some happiness after everything.”

“He’s not the only one.”

Alejandra gave Horacio a pointed look, one he wasn’t ready to entirely meet, so he reached for a slice of guayaba instead.

“And Javier...I take it this is your first visit to Manizales?” she continued, offering him the fruit tray.

“Thanks. And yeah, it is. Never got the time to explore much beyond Bogotá and Medellín.” That wasn't exactly true, but Javier didn’t think talk of Cartagena or Tolú would be welcome right now.

“Well, I hope it won’t be your last.”

Horacio could feel another look directed his way but pretended not to notice it and sipped on his coffee.

Once they had eaten their weight in fruit, Alejandra had some business calls to make, leaving Javier and Horacio to unpack and freshen up before reconvening to make a start on dinner.

Of course, it had to be sudado de pollo. Horacio and Alejandra worked as a team, issuing sporadic instructions to Javier when necessary. But he was happy listening to them catch up and reminisce.

“That smells amazing already,” Javier said as he finely chopped onions across a wooden board, gesturing to the dishful of chicken thighs that Alejandra had just finished marinating.

“Mamá’s secret blend,” she replied as she set the dish aside to move on to dicing several tomatoes.

“Oh yeah? What would I have to do to get the recipe for that?” Javier reflexively caught Horacio’s eye across the kitchen.

“If we told you, we’d have to kill you.” Horacio shot Javier a warning look that indicated he was only half joking before focusing intently on cutting up a large batch of yuca and potatoes.

“Yeah, not even Fabián knows.”

“Papá never knew either. But he was happy for us or Mamá to make it for him.”

“My Mamá was the same with her Abuela’s morisqueta. Although, not long before she passed, she left me and my Pops the recipe.”

Alejandra paused her knife to look up at Javier, the surprise on her face soon transforming into recognition and sympathy. “I bet it’s delicious. You should make it for us some time.”

Now it was Horacio’s turn to stop, his eyes travelling from Alejandra to Javier and back again as the implication of his sister’s words hung as heavy in the kitchen as the aromatic spices of her marinade.

------------------------------------------------------

Once the chicken and vegetables were all prepped and placed in a pot on the stove, the front door opened and closed, a loud chatter of voices soon filling the hallway.

Before Javier knew what was happening, he was being introduced to the children, shaking hands with Fabián, then kissing Elena’s cheek.

“Welcome, Javier. It’s good to put a face to a name at last,” Elena said, thoroughly taking in his appearance, apparently satisfied with what she saw.

At last. Javier wasn’t sure whether those words put him at ease or made him more nervous, but he managed to push such thoughts behind a smile. “Nice to meet you, and likewise.”

Javier had briefly seen pictures of Horacio’s family in the past. But he, too, spent time studying Elena now that he was close enough to smell the floral notes of her perfume. Neat oval glasses and a mix of dark and light grey hair cut short and choppy framed her sharp features, the shape of her nose and Cupid’s Bow matching those of her children.

“No thanks to this one here, mind you.” Despite her chastisement, Elena embraced her son tightly, reluctant to let go. “I think he’s been hiding from us.”

“You know it wasn’t like that, Mamá.” Although, over his Mamá’s head, Horacio gave Javier a sheepish look that said otherwise. “It is good to see you. And I’m sorry I left it so long.”

Upon greeting his nieces and nephews, Horacio was struck by how much they had all grown up since his last visit. Ana María was the spitting image of her mother. Juan José was several inches taller than Horacio and resembled his father more than ever. And Mateo and Sofía had presumably become resentful of all the matching outfits in their younger years of being twins, going out of their way to dress as differently from each other as possible. Once they had said their obligatory hellos, they scattered around the house and no doubt wouldn’t re-appear until dinner was ready.

Right on cue, when Alejandra brought out steaming and brimming plates full of sudado de pollo, everyone rapidly took their places around the table.

Silence fell as they tucked in, the warmth and comfort of childhood cocooning Horacio from what he knew was inevitable. A welcomed interruption from his thoughts came with a soft brush against his leg, his instincts telling him it was one of the cats issuing their own greeting. But he should have known better.

As they ate and endured the usual family small talk, Javier's foot became Horacio's anchor, subtle and soothing rubs against his ankle unseen under the table. Steady, grounding, home.

------------------------------------------------------

Horacio carried the last few empty plates to the kitchen, where piles of dishes were already stacked high. He had left Javier with Juan José and Mateo, who were showing off the latest video games they had got for Christmas – and were comfortably beating Javier at them, too.

“I’ll wash; you dry. For old times’ sake,” Alejandra said without looking up from the sink where she was filling the basin with water and suds.

“Okay. On the condition we both tidy everything away afterwards.”

“Deal. You’ll just put it in the wrong place unsupervised anyway.”

Horacio swatted the tea towel he’d picked up in her direction, only for her to retaliate by flicking bubbles in his hair.

“We did okay with dinner, didn’t we? I haven’t made that in a long time,” Horacio said.

“You had a good teacher.”

“So did you.”

“Oh, I know. I think that’s why Papá always loved it. We were all in there somewhere.”

“Like our Christmas tamales.”

“Oh, yeah, he couldn’t get enough of those. Remember we always had to make an extra batch for him to take to work?”

“He said they were to share with his unit, but I’m not sure many made it that far.”

Now they were laughing as they worked in tandem, Alejandra changing the water as Horacio cleared the draining board, ready for the next load.

“Did you ever feel like you let him down?” Horacio asked after a long silence, both siblings seemingly waiting for the other to fill it.

“Of course. You know Papá didn’t approve of Fabián at first, right?”

“What?”

“You must’ve heard the arguments?”

“To be fair, there were plenty of arguments between you and Papá.”

“Yeah, and they were mostly about me daring to marry someone other than a cop.”

“That’s what it was about?”

“Mostly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Fabián; I just think he had suitors picked out for me. People he knew he could trust.”

“But they got along in the end, didn’t they?”

“Once Papá had got over himself, yeah.” Alejandra let out a nostalgic laugh, which Horacio quickly joined in with. “He could be tough when he wanted to be, but…he meant well,” she settled on. “Once he saw how happy I was and how Fabián had taken after his father with the farm, he came around. It was never personal with Papá. It’s just the way he was.”

“So, you don’t think he’d be disappointed in me…” Horacio paused to swallow, his throat drier than a Texan summer. “For quitting?” he got out eventually.

Alejandra gave Horacio a look he’d seen countless times over the years. One only a big sister could give her little brother when she had to feign ignorance of something she had already discovered for herself. The perks of being the eldest.

“How did you know?”

“Horacio, are you really asking that of someone who has been surrounded by cops all her life?”

Horacio rolled his eyes but let Alejandra have that one unchallenged.

“I thought you might have been discharged on medical grounds, to be honest. I hoped you’d seen sense. Or maybe met someone.”

“I wasn’t discharged, but I negotiated a payout after my injury.”

Alejandra released a self-satisfied hum, a whisp of a smile threatening to break free from the corners of her mouth. “Two out of three’s not bad, I suppose.”

Horacio gulped hard enough for Alejandra to hear; he had no doubt about that. But no words followed, not even when he caught her eye.

“You love him, don’t you?” It wasn’t an accusation or an interrogation. In fact, it was barely even a question.

“Yes.” It caught Horacio off guard how fast he answered. How direct and concise he’d been.

“And he loves you.” There was no pretence of a question mark now, but rather a clarification of a well-established fact. A rite of passage both parties needed to hear.

“He does.”

“Enough to walk away from it all, too.”

Horacio nodded, scared the lump in his throat would give way to something else as his glassy gaze met Alejandra’s.

“His father – Chucho – owns a ranch in Laredo, Texas. That’s where I went after…” he trailed off, not wishing to dwell on the finer details of the ambush. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I hated lying after everything we’ve been through. But I figured the less you and Mamá knew, the safer it was.”

“I had a feeling you’d left Colombia. But Texas?” Alejandra blew out a low whistle. “That’s the part we’ll need to prepare Mamá for.”

“They’re Mexican-American. And the ranch is right on the border by the river.”

“I’d lead with that part if I were you. Not sure you can avoid a lecture about fraternising with Spanish colonisers, though. Twice.”

“I got that the first time I moved over there. But she went quiet when I reminded her Madrid was good enough for Simón Bolívar.”

Alejandra’s shoulders shook in unison with Horacio’s until a comfortable silence fell between them.

“So, you were there a whole year?”

“Just over. I couldn’t do much to help for the first few months – whilst this healed.” Horacio flexed his right arm to prove to Alejandra that everything was back in working order. “But it was good to have a routine eventually.”

“Wait a minute…you worked on the ranch?”

“No need to sound so surprised when you live here. I was actually pretty good at it. And I liked it.” Although Horacio understood and returned his sister’s bemusement because even he had shocked himself.

“No, I’m not. It’s just…oh, Horacio...” Alejandra broke off to bring her hand to his cheek, her brow creased, but her eyes caught between being on the brink of a smile and tears. “Look at you.”

Horacio made a show of wiping away the suds from his cheekbone, hoping he wouldn’t still have an audience afterwards. But no such luck. “It’s not what I expected to happen – any of it. But it just....felt right. I know that probably doesn’t make sense.”

“Actually, it makes perfect sense.”

“Does it?”

“Well, for starters, I can see the appeal. Obviously. Can’t blame you for going for a younger man, either. And taller.”

Horacio rolled his eyes and hoped his face didn’t look as hot as it felt. “Not by that much. On either count.”

“Hey, no judgment from me. But seriously, of course, it makes sense. I know we all used to joke about you being married to your job, but…after Juliana, I did wonder if there was more to it than that.”

“I think burying myself in work killed two birds with one stone.”

“It was killing you.”

“I know.”

“And Papá would have told you the same.”

A hollow laugh escaped Horacio’s throat, Martínez’s words from the wedding still ringing intrusively in his ears. “I’d have been kicked out of the force. He’d have made sure of that. And I wouldn’t have blamed him.”

“Right, because you were the first officer on Colombian soil to commit violence or be used as a political weapon.”

“He was against it, Alejandra. La Violencia was enough for anyone to see in a lifetime.”

But that was just another in a long line of civil wars. Even if his father's life hadn’t been cut short, he would have seen yet another bloody outbreak in which the state did more to perpetuate the death toll than bring peace to the country. And Horacio had plenty of blood on his hands. At least his Papá was spared witnessing that.

“And you don’t think he was ever put in a compromising position back then? You don’t think La Violencia was why he didn’t want the same for you? You won’t remember much, and Mamá and Papá never spoke about it around us, but I got pretty good at listening through doors.”

“He never did talk about it. Even when I was older.”

Not that he really needed to, Horacio conceded. Even though they were kept relatively safe and away from the violence in Medellín compared to other regions of Antioquia – particularly the rural parts – he had heard enough over the years to fill in the blanks.

He remembered his Mamá’s stories of helping the displaced, those who sought refuge in the city. Thousands who had been forced to flee the violence and start over again, often in makeshift housing on the outskirts, the irony never lost on Horacio that one of those neighbourhoods became Comuna 13. But for all his Mamá’s tales and the work she continued to do until she left for Manizales, his Papá never spoke about those years.

“He was protecting you. Like Mamá was with us after he died. Sometimes silence is easier.”

“I know. I get it. Before he died, the cocaine trade hadn’t got going in Colombia yet. It was mostly marijuana. But with FARC around and the gringos spreading their anti-communist propaganda, he knew it was a question of when, not if, another war was coming. I think he hoped things would be different this time.”

“You did what you had to do, Horacio. Just like he did. Just like every generation of our family did to survive. What’s done is done.”

“I’m not sure you’d say that if you knew everything.”

“You think I never heard any of the rumours out here? Or picked up a newspaper once in a while?”

“You never said anything.”

Alejandra shot Horacio a cutting glare, the kind he was an expert at delivering, but only a select few could get away with throwing back at him. “I knew you wouldn’t talk about it even if I asked.”

Horacio scoffed. Touché. “Not all of it was true.”

It was Alejandra’s turn to laugh. “Well, I kinda figured you weren’t dead after you called.”

“I don’t just mean the ambush.”

“I know,” she said briskly.

But Horacio couldn’t ignore the relief in her body language. Even though he understood it, a wave of shame hit him for even planting a seed of doubt in her – his older sister, the mother of his nieces and nephews – mind in the first place.

“But that’s all in the past now,” he concluded, shutting down his own train of destructive thought. “And you’re right; Papá’s not here. But Javier is.”

“So your future’s in Laredo, then.”

“Are you mad?”

“Am I mad that my little brother is finally getting his shit together and is head over heels in love? Oh, yeah, I’m livid.”

An inferno had spread across Horacio’s cheeks, and he struggled to think of a response. But luckily for him, Alejandra wasn’t done yet.

“It’s…safe, though, right? For you both to live together?”

“As safe as anywhere else. Every country has its problems. I’m sure there’ll always be people with something to say. But we’ve been careful.”

“Just promise me you’ll keep being careful.”

“We will, I promise.”

“I can’t guarantee I’ll convince Mamá to visit in the summer, though.”

“That’s fair. But you do think she’ll want to visit?”

“She might be strong, but we know what she lost – what we all lost. So, if there’s a chance for you to share your life with someone as she did with Papá, to be safe – to be happy after everything – yeah, I think she'll want to visit.”

“Do you think Papá would if he could?” Horacio knew it was a loaded grenade of a question and unfair to ask. But he couldn’t help himself.

Alejandra hesitated, seemingly aware she was between a rock and a hard place. “Maybe in his old age. Or if he knew Javier saved your life.”

“How did –?”

She expelled a comedically dramatic sigh. “Keep up, manito. When you called, you told me the DEA came after you that night. I don’t need to hold a badge to guess who that was.”

Horacio was banged to rights once more as he tried to recall the exact information he had relayed to Alejandra in the hours after the ambush; evidently, it was more than he thought.

“He – and his partner, Steve – went against orders and got suspended for helping me and my men.”

“So, they took a leaf out of your book then?”

“Something like that.”

Before Horacio could overthink it, he took a deep breath and told Alejandra everything. From the blackmail to his and Javier’s resignations to their year in Madrid, it all came tumbling out whilst she kept washing and he kept drying. Just like old times. Just like their Papá was in the next room along with their Mamá. And in so many ways, he always would be, not as a ghost of their past, but forever a part of their present and future.

------------------------------------------------------

Arriving during the week had its advantages, as it wasn’t necessary for Horacio to make excuses to get an early night. Work and school beckoned in the morning for most of the household, so the evening had ended in a low-key fashion.

That was more than fine by Horacio after a long drive and an overdue heart-to-heart. He lay on his side, his back nestled into Javier’s chest in the centre of the spare room’s double bed. They made up the fold-out bed for pretences, but it was purely extra space to store their luggage.

A bedside lamp and hints of moonlight peaking around the edges of the curtains cast the room in soft shadows, the low murmur of a telenovela in one of the nearby bedrooms the only sound to be heard at this hour.

“How old were you there?” Javier asked, his voice muffled against Horacio’s shoulder where he’d temporarily paused his trail of kisses after picking out one of several framed photos on the wall.

“The one from Alejandra’s wedding? I’d have been 24.”

“Cute curls.” Javier’s nose nuzzled against the back of Horacio’s head, which was sadly lacking the same unruliness as in the photo.

“Fuck you.”

Javier sniggered. “Hey, I was being serious! They suit you. Plus…more to grab hold of.” He slid a hand into Horacio’s hair as his mouth resumed its work along bare skin.

Horacio’s back arched with a sigh as he leaned into Javier’s touch. “You know we can’t get carried away. Not here.”

“I know.” Of course, Javier understood. It was one thing for him to have sneaked in and out of the guesthouse back in Laredo; it was quite another to be under the same roof as Horacio’s whole family. But that didn’t stop the almost petulant tone in Javier’s voice. He was still human, after all.

“I promise we’ll make up for it once we leave.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Despite their flirtation, exhaustion was thick in their throats and pressed heavily on their limbs, pushing them closer towards sleep as the butterflies in their stomachs finally settled.

“The wedding wasn’t that long after Papá died. Alejandra asked me to give her away instead. At first, I didn’t think I deserved to take Papá’s place. But I think she needed me there with her, so, I said yes.”

“Of course you did, and I bet she never forgot that.”

“No, and I’ll never forget tonight."

------------------------------------------------------

It was still dark in the spare room when Javier stirred and untangled himself from Horacio as slowly as possible. He had woken up thirsty and threw on a precautionary pair of jeans before tiptoeing down the wooden staircase towards the kitchen.

The clock on the oven read 01:30am, so he wasn't expecting to find the spotlights above it switched on. He searched through the cupboards until he found a tumbler and filled it with water from the tap, taking large gulps until the glass was drained.

“So, you’re a night owl too, then?”

“Shit!” Javier hissed, spinning around with a sharp intake of breath, almost dropping the glass on the tiled floor.

“Sorry,” Alejandra whispered. “I was just reading before heading off to bed.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I just needed some water. Didn’t think anyone else would be up.” Javier was suddenly very aware of the fact he was standing half naked in the middle of the kitchen, Horacio’s necklace like a flashing beacon at his chest. “Obviously,” he added with an awkward huff, looking down at his state of semi-undress.

“Right,” Alejandra replied with a stifled laugh. “How about you avoid catching a chill whilst I find something a bit more…authentic than tap water?”

Once Javier came back downstairs with his chest now covered, Alejandra was sat at the kitchen table with two shot glasses and a bottle of aguardiente.

“Not sure my stomach can handle any more of that after the wedding.”

“Lightweight. And just think of it as an initiation.”

Javier sighed in defeat, accepting the challenge as he took a seat opposite Alejandra.

She unscrewed the bottle and tipped measures into each glass. “Wanna make this more interesting?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Three shots, three questions each. But you can only ask a question after you’ve emptied your glass.”

Javier laughed for a second, unsure what he imagined Alejandra to be like, yet somehow, she surprised him anyway. “Okay. Already sounds better than every other icebreaker inflicted on me. Who goes first?”

“Guest’s choice.”

He stared down at his glass as though it was the barrel of a gun, remembering why he had eventually insisted whiskey was his and Horacio’s go-to drink. When he first arrived in Colombia, Horacio would offer him a shot, pouring liberally from the stash of aguardiente in his office drawer, and Javier accepted on multiple occasions. But it was over and done with like a spoonful of caustic medicine. At least whiskey could be drunk slower and delayed saying goodnight.

That wasn't the order of things now, though. So, Javier grabbed the bull by the horns and threw back his glass, wincing at the aniseed burn as it slid down his throat.

“New rule: you’ve got 30 seconds to come up with a question. Otherwise, you take another shot.”

“Alright, alright, I’m thinking.”

Alejandra’s gaze fell on the oven clock, ramping up the pressure. “10 seconds left…”

“Okay. I’ve got one. What was it like growing up with a younger brother?”

“Annoying, obviously. Especially after he got the highest grade in his English class. I don’t know where he picked them up, but he knew all the swear words. Of course. He drove me crazy testing them out.”

“He did that to my old partner, Steve – his Spanish isn’t great, and Horacio sure liked to remind him whenever he got the chance.”

“Sounds about right. No wonder he liked you – best of both worlds.”

“Maybe.” Javier knew what Alejandra meant, but it didn’t stop heat from spreading through his cheeks regardless.

“He was generally pretty quiet at school,” Alejandra continued, "but not afraid to take the lead…or break a few rules.”

“Again, I’m not surprised.”

“Nope.” They both laughed at that. “He always liked to be moving, though. Doing something with his hands. Or playing sports – he was a good runner. We used to race each other around Jardín Botánico, and he would always beat me. I think he already knew he was in training for the Academy. So, obviously, he was accepted. No doubt some thought he got a free pass, but he was determined to prove himself. Then he had to grow up.”

The joviality faded abruptly from Alejandra’s face, transforming into a wistful smile.

“We both did. But at least I’d had more time with Papá. Good job I did have those few years to myself ‘cos Horacio followed him around like a shadow. Until he couldn’t. Then he thought he had to be the man of the house. Even when there were two much more qualified women for the job.”

“He thought it was his duty."

“Yeah. He did.” There was something akin to awe in how Alejandra looked at Javier, as though she was simultaneously taken aback and impressed that someone summed up and understood her brother so accurately and succinctly.

“Isn’t it your turn, now?” Javier asked after a moment of silence.

Without further hesitation, Alejandra downed her shot. “Why Colombia?”

“Why not Colombia?” He tried a feeble laugh but knew that wouldn't cut it. “I studied Gabriel García Márquez in high school. Although, can’t say I really got him at the time. Took me another try when I was older.”

Now he thought about it, Javier wasn’t convinced he exactly got him the second time around either, considering García Márquez’s views on extradition aligned fiercely with Horacio’s. But that was the luxury of hindsight.

“By then, my Mamá had long since passed, my fiancée had just become my ex, and I had no fucking clue what I was doing with my life. Guess I needed to get lost in someone else’s problems for a while.”

“Tell me about it.” Alejandra held a book up in the air that had been abandoned on the table since Javier joined her.

“Smart move. My teacher loved telling us how García Márquez moved to Mexico and wrote One Hundred Years of Solitude over there. And with how things went down in Laredo, I could see the appeal of starting over in another country. Mexico was…too close to home. The drug war was getting out of hand. More and more agents were being transferred. And what’s the line?” Javier broke off, eyes cast towards the ceiling as he licked his lips in concentration. “‘We came’, they said, ‘because everyone is coming’.”

Alejandra let a pause of bewilderment pass between them as she studied Javier with intrigue. “You’re not at all like the other gringos he’s worked with in the past.”

“Did he bring any of them home to his family?”

“No. You’re the first. As I’m sure you're aware.”

“Maybe.”

“Drink up.”

Javier did as he was told, repressing a cough as the potent liquid worked its magic. “Why did you choose farm life over being a cop?”

Alejandra laughed a little too loudly, considering the time. “There are other career choices, you know.”

Javier gasped. “There are?”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it? But that’s not quite how it went for me. The farm came with Fabián. They’re sort of a package deal. I’m sure you can understand that.” She threw Javier a knowing smile. “But I ruled out being a cop years before I moved here or met Fabián. I knew from Papá that women in the force were few and far between back then. They’re still pretty scarce now. I wasn’t up for putting myself in the firing line being a General’s daughter. They never would have respected me or believed I got there on my own merit. I didn’t want to spend my life trying to gain anyone's approval.”

“Makes sense. It’s not easy in the force if you’re…different from the rest."

“Exactly. I’m not sure it’s what Papá even wanted for me anyway. Because he knew what it’d be like. Then there was Mamá with her social work. She was in her element. Always fighting someone’s corner, especially during the suffrage movement. I think I was the odd one out in the family, ‘cos everyone else seemed to have…a calling except for me. So, I studied, got a business degree, became a buyer for various companies and ended up in the coffee industry. And the rest is history.”

“Good for you. And I guess that explains Horacio’s, er, distaste for a badly made cup of coffee.”

“Yep. He’s got no excuse. And neither do you anymore.”

“I’ll bear that in mind. Your turn.” Javier took the bottle this time and filled Alejandra’s glass.

She downed it in one go. “¿Por qué no un llanero ahora que has descartado ser policía?” (Why not a llanero now you’ve ruled out being a police officer?)

“¿Por qué no un vaquero?” (Why not a vaquero?) Javier corrected with a glint in his eye that Alejandra returned with an eye roll. “Like you said…there are other jobs. That one was just never for me. I need more variety day-to-day. Like I’m making a bigger difference somehow. But preferably without the pretty fucking significant risk of death or blackmail.”

“A fair demand.”

“Right? It’s not like I’m asking for a raise.”

“When I moved here, I didn’t know where life was taking me, especially when the kids came along. I couldn’t keep my old job because of all the travelling…and being a mother was the priority until they started school. It took me a while to find my place on the buying and selling side of the business. So, all I’m saying is, things might get clearer once you’re settled back in Laredo.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Javier raised his glass and nodded his thanks to Alejandra, touched by her unprompted advice.

His third and final question had arrived, and the pressure to make it a good one pressed uncomfortably on his increasingly fuzzy head. “If your father was here now, what would you say to him?”

For a brief second, Javier feared he had overstepped some forbidden and invisible line and been overfamiliar with someone he only really knew by proxy at this stage.

But whilst Alejandra’s smile was permanently stained with traces of grief, warmth flickered then grew in her charcoal eyes. “I’d tell him we’re fine. That we miss him and wish he’d come back for good but that he needn’t worry. Because even though Mamá didn’t always get things right, she steered us through it as best she could. And we didn’t turn our backs on the world. That we found love in the dark.”

Alejandra sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “Sorry. I think it’s the alcohol.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” Javier paused to clear his throat, blinking his vision back into focus. “It was beautifully said.” His hand reached for hers across the table, hoping again that he hadn’t gone too far.

But she let his hand rest there until she shook her head like a wet dog and poured her final shot. “Same question to you about your mother, obviously,” she said before downing the aguardiente in one.

Javier scoffed. “Well, I guess I deserved that.” He took his time, collecting his thoughts as though he was preparing an important speech. As though he’d been trying to find the right words for most of his life – and how rarely he’d succeeded.

“I’d tell her I miss her morisqueta. I’d tell her Pops visits her every week. But then I think she already knows that. Same way I think she made sure he never re-married.”

Javier couldn’t help but laugh, seeing with perfect clarity where his own loyal streak came from when his Pops was still as devoted to Mariana as the day they married. Siempre tuyo was no exaggeration.

“I’d make sure she knew he wasn’t alone, though. That he was known as Don Chucho to most in Laredo. That she’d be proud of him for growing the community she helped start. I’d brag about all the tamales we’ve made and quote her favourite poems. I’d introduce her to Horacio.”

He envisaged showing her Horacio’s poetry book, knowing that all it would take was for her to read Javier’s message in the opening pages to understand everything about who they were to each other. He’d even dreamed of it, waking with a ridiculous hope that she had somehow intercepted it.

“She sounds as incredible as your father. I hope one day I can thank him for taking my little brother under his wing when he needed it the most.”

“I’m sure that could be arranged.”

“I can’t – and don’t want to – imagine where he would have ended up without either of you, to be honest. He told me about the ambush…and everything else. And even though it doesn’t feel nearly enough, I just want to say...thank you.”

At first, Javier could only nod and swallow the lump bobbing at the base of his throat. “He did the same for me. It wasn’t easy walking away from my job, don’t get me wrong, but it was different for him. He felt like he’d betrayed Colombia and his Papá. Yet he did it anyway.”

“When it’s the right person, the sacrifices are worth it. And I can’t think of anyone more worthy of wearing that.” Alejandra’s sightline had fallen to Javier’s neck. His chest may have now been covered, but the silver chain still poked out from beneath the seam of his shirt.

She poured them a bonus shot each and raised her glass. “Welcome to the family.”

#Narcos fic #Narcos #Javier Peña #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo #Pedro Pascal #Maurice Compte #Narcos fanfic #Narcos fanfiction #Narcos fan fic #My Fan Fic #My Narcos Fic

42 notes · View notes

greenerteacups · 2 months

Note

I’m not sure if you’ve specifically answered this before, but how long did it take you to outline, research, and prepare the foundational meat of Lionheart since it’s such a sprawling saga with threads for so many characters? Did you have it all mapped out before you started writing? What about shorter pieces like The Climb and the latest, delightful The Death Eater Diaries?

The series outline for Lionheart I wrote on one bleary, rabbit-hole of a day in the summer of 2022 when I was definitely supposed to be doing something else, and after that, each book took me between 3 days and 2 weeks to outline completely. The later books have taken longer because of their length and the number of threads — the series has a way of getting wider as well as longer, and for the last two books, I sometimes got a bit grumbly about how many characters pop up in every novel. As for research, most of that will happen before or during the outlining process; I'll have a copy of the book on-hand to check plot details, but for the most part I try to work without flipping back to the text, to avoid copying beats or stylistic choices unless I have a thematic reason to. I also use HP Lexicon and fanwikis while I'm editing for content, though when I'm drafting I make a real effort not to switch out of the tab for any reason, because it breaks flow. I'm sure I have missed some details despite my references, but c'est la vie; JKR had to do continuity edits in subsequent edition releases for several books, so at least I'm not alone.

For The Climb, I wrote the first chapter in the raw, then went through and blocked out the second two in an outline at the bottom of the document. Very very broad strokes there — TC is different from Lionheart because it's a slice-of-life tone piece, so there's not as much plot to be done. It's a novella conceived for the sole purpose of exploring one particular relationship, so the plot came secondary to the things I wanted to highlight about how that dynamic worked. It's a character-forward piece, to borrow culinary terminology, and outlining for character is a lot easier than outlining for plot. (For me.)

The Death Eater Diaries emerged almost fully-formed from a Tumblr post I made joking about the sort of ludicrously awful decade Narcissa experiences. The hardest part of outlining was nailing down canonical dates. Stuff like how old Andromeda was when she got pregnant, when Bellatrix got married, when the members of the previous generation died, all that's unspecified — but it's also all functionally constrained to a narrow window of time, if you take in where the characters are at certain other parts of the story, so you can't just say anything. It was very fun to write, though. Doing so also stressed how hilariously short the timeline on the Black family collapse actually is. Between 1971 and 1981, they go from a two-branch family with an heir, a spare, and three healthy daughters -> completely extinct in the male line, two of its descendants disinherited, two imprisoned, one missing, presumed dead, and Draco Malfoy's mom.

#I didn't even MENTION alphard getting burned off the tree because to be honest i straight up forgot dog existed #but if I had that'd just drive the point home #tfw your uncle disinherits your other uncle from sheer rage for giving money to your cash-poor disinherited cousin #I also like to think — as the fic implies — that the wall is literally not official/magical at all #Orion just gets pissy and writes people out of the will sometimes and then his dramatic wife goes to stab a cigarette in their portrait #which makes it all the funnier that sirius in the movies does this dramatic 'gaze upon my works ye mighty' thing about it

26 notes · View notes

empressofmankind · 5 months

Text

BEGGARS SHAN'T BE CHOOSERS - Part I

[Crocodile x F!OC]

SFW

(A/N) Better known as the 'Impel Down' fic, I kept mentioning the past two weeks. This is Part One. Of five? Of ten? I've given up. The total draft was > 12k. So, I split it in 3x 4k. And then, I noticed today the 'first part' had grown to >7k. So, I've split it again. I have a clear end in mind, but how long it'll take me to get there...

Originally, this fic was meant to focus around Buggy, but then a 2.53m unit of absolute bullshit got in the way. Shivs and her world class plans, good gods. Post-Alabaste, the mens are stuck in Impel Down. Shivs is dead set on springing the clown from prison. However, she'll first need to figure out where they're keeping him. On account of his devil fruit powers, she suspects level 6. And she has an excellent alibi to demand visitation to level 6. For once, the legal quagmire of technically still being married to Crocodile is going to work for her. Right? RIGHT??

In this first part, we'll join Shivs and Benji (and Mani!) as they get ready to, and make their way for, Impel Down. That's it, that's all that happens, and it took me near 4k. I am so long-winded. It's a terminal condition, I know.

Tag(s): Considering this is the entré, there isn't actually much to tag for? There's fluff and humour. There's a 10-year-old running around saying the absolute funniest shit as things go straight over her head. We got Mani the scaly golden retriever Bananawani along? Oh, and one (1) good marine.

🐊 🐊 🐊

Beggars Shan't Be Choosers - Part I

“They're stupid clothes,” Benji said, her brow wrinkling with petulant annoyance. She was wearing a crispy white dress shirt, a green-on-ochre striped vest and grey slacks. She'd refused a dress of any sort. Her flame orange hair was neatly brushed and her small face wasn't covered in grease paint for once.

“I think you look handsome,” Shivs said as she pinned her own red hair up with a two-pronged kanzashi fashioned with golden lotuses whose inlaid blue diamonds had not seen the light of day in years.

“I look stupid.”

“Look. I am not comfortable in my clothes either,” Shivs said and indicated the mid-thigh sheath dress of black lace on dark grey broadcloth she wore. She'd decided on sheer stockings to go with it, but no gloves.

“You look pretty in them.”

Shivs turned back to the mirror to finish pinning her hair and adjusting her bangs to fall neatly from under the strings of her eyepatch. “That is the idea, yes.”

Benji put her hands in her pockets, kicking her foot, making squeaky noises against the deck boards. “What am I supposed to look like? I don't want to be pretty.”

“You are supposed to look like the most capable and well-behaved child to ever grace the Blue.” Shivs pinched her cheek, gilt bangles jangling. “And you do when you don't stand with your hands wearing out your pockets like that.”

Benji took her hands out of her pockets. They idled a moment, undecided, but then she clasped them behind her back. “Your neck looks naked.”

Shivs laughed at that because the bateau neckline of the dress could certainly use something. “Yours too.”

She plucked one of Buggy's patterned neck scarves from a drawer and tied it around her daughter's neck, tucking the ends into the vest. “There.”

“You should wear a pretty necklace,” Benji said, though her eyes were on the scarf. She seemed to like that, at least.

Shivs didn't have all that many necklaces conventionally considered ‘nice’. Going through the few she had in her thoughts, she picked up her modest jewellery box. Then paused as her gaze lingered on the bottom drawer of her vanity. Maybe she should… She pulled the drawer open and reached among clothes she rarely wore, patting around until she found the old music box.

Its silver had blackened with age and negligence, but even so, its delicate engravings of waves and tall ships were fine. If she polished it now, the oxidation remaining in the fine creases would help pick out its details better than ever before. She didn’t, of course. And she didn’t open the lid either. She couldn’t remember if it was wound up, and didn’t want to hear its melody if it was.

Instead, she held it with both hands and turned its engraved body as if removing a lid from a jar. With a click, the top section came off. Within the tiny compartment revealed lay a small, gold hoop with a bent hinge. She’d long since let the earlobe puncture it used to occupy close. Taking a thin string from her jewellery box, she suspended it from that instead.

“Like so?” Shivs asked, drawing Benji’s attention as she fastened it around her neck.

“Don’t you have anything sparklier, like your hair thing?”

Shivs brushed the kanzashi. Though the era of having such things aplenty was long behind her, she was loath to detract from the last one that remained to her with lesser gems. Besides, he’d notice.

“Sadly, no.”

“Oh?” Benji gave her the thumbs up. “Gold is pretty too, I guess!”

Part of the reason she’d picked it was that it was 24-carat gold. Just like the kanzashi.

“Can I do your makeup?”

“Only if you do not turn me into a clown,” Shivs said as she sat down at her vanity so the girl could reach her face. Benji grinned and set to work.

When Benji declared she was done, Shivs turned to the mirror and had to admit the little girl was now officially better at this than her. She’d gone for a dark burgundy smokey eye with a flawlessly thin line of gold right at the root of her eyelashes and a touch of white on the waterline. It made the hazel of her good eye pop like nobody’s business. She was pretty sure the dark red lipstick was Buggy’s favourite to use himself.

“I like it,” Shivs said and Benji beamed. “Now, I just need shoes.”

“I'll fetch some!”

Benji was up and running out of the cabin before Shivs could protest. It was only a few minutes before the girl returned, clutching shoes in her arms. And not just any shoes, either. She held up gold-tinted, faux leather gladiator sandals with six-inch stiletto heels that would be a trick and a half to walk on. Where had she even found those?

“These will look awesome with your hair thing and necklace!”

She didn’t disagree as she put them on, but hoped the floors of Impel Down would be neatly packed concrete and nothing else. She hadn’t walked on heels like these in half a decade. Throwing a long bridge coat the rosy beige of dunes about her shoulders, she turned to the floor-length mirror.

Benji looked her up and down with the pinched expression of a critical, pint-sized costume designer grading their latest creation. “You look very pretty.”

Benji wasn’t wrong. She did look nice. Her mood sank, settling like an anchor in the pit of her stomach. She looked like his wife.

“Why is it OK to lie today?”

“It's not a lie.” Shivs shook the morose feeling and picked up her small black bag, its gilded chain rattling as she double checked its content. “More like, hm.”

“Make believe?”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose it is,” Shivs said as she snapped the bag closed and hung it from her shoulder. “It will be easier to convince them to let us visit if we look the way they’d expect.”

“Why would they let us visit uncle Crocodile? Aren’t those visits for, like, if you’re his mom or sister or baby or something?” Benji’s small face was filled with healthy scepticism, hands in her pockets once again. “We should pretend he’s my dad.”

Shivs flinched and struggled to keep her smile from faltering. “Well, only if we have to.”

“They’d have to be pretty bad people to stop a kid from visiting their father.” Benji took her hand. “I hope uncle Crocodile knows where dad is.”

“I am sure he knows.” Shivs gave Benji’s hand a squeeze. She’d no idea how she’d find out where Buggy was if Crocodile didn’t know. She couldn’t exactly demand that information on legal grounds like she had done with him. “Is Mani ready, too?”

“Yes! I scrubbed her squeaky clean and even picked her teeth and scales. She’s eaten and done a big poop.” Shivs tried to let the girl’s bubbly chatter lift her spirits. “I borrowed one of Richie’s sparkly collars and she looks flashy in it!”

“Sparkly? That sounds amazing.”

“It is! She likes sparkly things.”

“Let’s fetch her then and go before we are too late.”

Benji glanced up at her as they left the cabin. “How can we be late for an appointment we didn’t make?”

“We can be late for the only ship going there today.”

🐊 🐊 🐊

Benji had wanted to stand upon the prow as the government ship approached the Gate of Justice out of Enbies Lobby, because the skipper had said the Tarai current that would see them to Impel Down was chock full of sea kings. Shivs sat on a deck chair with a glass of wine, watching the girl run back and forth with binoculars she’d weedled from a matelot. On account of the seastone laminated hull, she doubted they would see any. However, there was no need to dunk on her chipper mood.

They were not the only visitors, more had trickled aboard to form a modest but motley company on the deck. She’d caught snippets of conversations as they walked by: a mother visiting her son; a brother, his sister. And she had a good guess what some of them were whispering about as they stole glances her way. She’d neglected to list any details regarding who they’d be visiting, but, in hindsight, she supposed the pony-sized bananawani lounging beside her gave it away.

She’d tied Mani’s rhinestone-infested lilac leash to her chair leg, to discourage the reptile from wandering or - worse - deciding to take a swim. Not that she had any illusion as to its ability to pull the chair straight from under her if it wanted to go. But Mani was a creature of habit and minimal effort. A minor inconvenience such as this would be enough to keep her snoozing on the deck.

“Spotted any big ones?” Shivs said when Benji came towards her for a sip of lychee ramune.

“Not yet.” Benji plopped down beside Mani, putting her skinny arm around her scaly neck as she slurped lemonade. “Did you know bananawani hunt sea kings?”

“Really?”

Shivs remembered the way the casino halls would darken as they swam by, their shadows passing beyond the glass as they glided towards the feeding platform. The unwitting sea king never stood a chance.

“They are their only known predator and totally hunt them,” Benji babbled happily while enjoying her drink. Mani’s eyes were still closed, but she’d shifted to lean into the little girl’s petting. “Do you think sea king tastes good?”

The water would run red but only for a short while, only until the currents whisked it away. Theoretically, the creature could make it out for the Rainbase oasis connected to the Sandora river.

“I bet Mani would prefer sea king chow,” Shivs said.

“I don't think they sell that at the pet stores.” Benji pouted as she hugged Mani. “She won’t be able to have a sea king snack until she’s big enough to hunt them herself.”

Hopefully, that would take a while yet. Bananawani could grow to colossal sizes, dwarfing mid-class tall ships. Shivs had no idea what they were supposed to do with a fully grown one. Or how to afford feeding the beast if there was no prey for her to hunt on her own. Rain Dinners’ bananawani never hunted alone.

Benji emptied her bottle with a big, noisy slurp, waking Mani. “Maybe we should have brought something?”

“A deck would have been nice,” Shivs said as she watched them. “We could have played slapjack.”

“No, I mean, for uncle Crocodile?”

Shivs flinched.

“You always say that it is nice to bring something when you visit someone. Especially if you want something from them in turn?” Benji scrunched up her face, rubbing Mani’s thick scaly neck. “I have, like, half a bag of marshmallows, but I didn’t think to bring them.”

“I have something for him, don’t worry about it.”

🐊 🐊 🐊

Impel Down was a fortress as ugly as it was unimaginative. It spilled onto the rapidly approaching horizon as a grey stain overtaking the limitless freedom of the open sea. And as they drew near on the Tarai current, its squat towers and crenellated battlements came into ever sharper focus until they dominated their entire surroundings. Curiously, there were no cannon embrasures, machicolations or any such defences one might expect from a proper bastion.

A fleet of warships rested at anchor along the approach to the underwater prison. The modest passenger ship they were on was dwarfed by the marine dreadnoughts they passed as the current pulled them inexorably towards the prison’s colossal gatehouse.

Benji had returned to the prow for the approach, and Shivs joined her there.

“It’s so huge!” Benji stared wide-eyed at the thick walls as they sailed under the barbican and into the secured harbour proper beyond. Mani sat beside her, holding her own leash.

“The vast majority of the complex is actually underwater.” Shivs counted the cannons peeking down at them through the embrasures, out of habit more than anything. She wondered if they had a standing firing crew to man them.

“Are we going underwater?” Benji hopped from one leg unto the other. “The Calm Belts are supposed to be full of Sea Kings! Maybe there will be a window, and I can see one? Maybe there will be wild Bananawani too!”

“It is a prison, so I don’t think there will be windows,” Shivs said in an attempt to calm the girl’s excitement and avoid utter disappointment if that turned out to be true. “It does reach quite a ways below the water surface. A few kilometres, perhaps? Yes, I think so.”

“Wow.” Turning to Mani, Benji added: “Let's find a window, I bet there will be wild Bananawani! You can say ‘hi’!”

Shivs took her by the shoulder when she saw the other visitors disembark. “Come, let’s not be late.”

Benji glanced up at her as they walked to the gangplank. “For the visit we didn-?”

“Don’t say that,” Shivs interrupted her with a quelling look.

“Right.” Benji smiled again and took Mani’s leash. “Come on Mani. Can’t be late!”

They were funnelled through the gatehouse and into a courtyard patrolled by marine sentries. Here, too, cannons peered through embrasures on all sides. Evidently, the prison was more concerned about threats to its security rising from within than without.

“Visitors for level 1 and 2 inmates, that way,” a young marine officer said as he gestured to a colleague. “Level 3 and up, with me.” The few people that joined them as they went to the marine officer gave the juvenile Bananawani plodding beside them a wide breadth.

The officer led them up steps and into an wholly uninviting lobby. With its worn plaster walls and dirty grey linoleum floor it did its very best to make you want to leave as soon as possible. No seats, no plants, no windows, no nothing.

“Registration check.” The marine officer motioned them towards the looming concrete counter on the other side of the unpleasant space. “In an orderly manner, gentlefolk.”

Benji put her arm around Mani, leaning into the large reptile and putting her nose against its scales as she eyed their casually hostile surroundings.

“What’s his name?” The marine officer’s tone was amiable, conversational.

“Hers!” Benji said, holding on tighter to the Bananawani.

He tried to catch her gaze with a smile. “Big girls, both of you.”

“Her name is Mani.”

“Ah, ‘she who averts harm’,” he said, and Shivs appreciated his attempts to make Benji feel comfortable. “A wise choice for such a hardy animal.”

“She’s very sweet and tough,” Benji agreed as she snuggled Mani. “I love her.”

“I am sure she loves you very much too.”

“What is your name?” Benji asked. “Mine is Benji!”

“Nice to meet you, Benji,” the young marine said. “Mine is Toby.”

By then it was their turn, and Shivs approached the desk. It was higher than such things normally were, for she was not a particularly short woman and yet she need not bend down to meet the registrar’s gaze.

“State your name and purpose?” the woman said, hands poised to take down the information.

“Figarland Seonaid. Conjugal visit,” Then added when she saw her transcribe it as ‘Sheona’: “That is without the H, and spelled with N-A-I-D.”

The registrar gave a sign of neither interest nor recognition. “Visiting?”

“Crocodile Niall.”

The woman paused when she heard that name. And Shivs ignored the whispers she could not quite catch from those behind her in line.

“Niall. N-I-A-L-L. Not ‘Nile’.”

The registrar flipped through a thick binder, finger running down a table packed with dense handwriting. “No visitation registered.”

“Preposterous,” Shivs said, overacting an affronted tone. “A signed request for visitation has been approved weeks ago.”

“There is no record of it, ma'am.”

Benji let go of Mani to fling her arms around Shivs’ waist instead, and gave the registrar and marine officer her most watery of wobbly baby looks. “Mommy, I want to see daddy!”

Shivs rubbed her shoulder, giving the registrar the pleading look of parents the world across trying to desperately manage a child on the brink of wailing. Benji's little sob into the fabric of her dress was very convincing. Mani paced around them, uncertain but riled by the sudden change of mood.

“Can't you put in an expedited request?” Shivs suggested, trying her damndest to sound sincere. “She'd been looking forward to it, and we get so few chances.”

“No registration, no visitation,” the woman said as Benji took in a breath to start a wail.

Toby shook his head. “Let me see what I can do,” he said as he produced a small, earpiece Den Den Mushi and put the sea snail against his ear. A few transmissions later, he turned to the registrar and held up his hand. “Two visitor badges, please.”

With due reluctance the registrar handed them over to him and he turned to Benji. “There you go, kiddo,” he said as he gave her one, and then Shivs as well. “Courtesy of the vice-admiral making the curator see reason.”

“You're the best!” Benji beamed. “Look, mom, I am number 17! What is yours?”

Shivs looked at the scuffed 13 on the badge. It reminded her of a poker table she used to deal at, and the memory settled in the pit of her stomach like a fetch of cannon balls. “Not as high as yours, sweetie.”

“Come, I will see you two down to the right level,” Toby said, and led them to the elevator room beyond the lobby. There were four, two on the left and two on the right. He took them to the far right one, the doors opening as they approached.

“Awesome!” Benji said as she rushed inside, Mani hot on her heels. For the elevator was made entirely of armoured glass and provided a grand view of the ocean sprawling all the way across the horizon. The afternoon sun kissed the waves, setting sparkles to the white-capped water. And Shivs felt it beckon in her bones.

Benji gave him a hopeful look. “Are we going underwater?”

“We are,” Toby said as he put a key in the control panel and turned it.

When the doors slid closed, Shivs suppressed the sudden and overwhelming urge to get out, to leave and never look back. To stay at the surface, where they belonged. I have to, she told herself as she clenched her hands into fists around the chain of her handbag. Bugs is down there, and he hates the dark beneath the waves.

The elevator jolted to life and Shivs closed her eyes, ignoring the sound of the lapping waves against the glass as they submerged, focussing on Benji’s excited noises instead. When she opened them again, they were enveloped in blue. Sunlight still penetrated, sending curtains of light through the water. Less so with every foot they descended, as the blue grew deeper, darker.

“A Sea King!” Benji screamed, spooking Mani as she glued herself against the glass. In the far distance, blurred in the shifting hues of the blue, swam a long, serpentine creature, its body undulating as it made its way from somewhere to elsewhere.

“It could be the Prince of the Deep,” Toby said as he came to stand beside her. “It has about the right shape. Colour too, perhaps.”

Benji glanced at him, her eyes large and eager. “Prince?”

“Yes, because he is a prince among his kind. The largest Sea King in this part of the Calm Belt,” Toby said. “Ten times larger than Coral Grove, our largest dreadnought.”

“Wow.” Benji pressed her face against the glass. “Mani could snack on that for years.”

“Wouldn’t it be tough for her to hunt such a large creature?” Toby said, not without humour.

Benji rolled her eyes. “Not right now, she’s a baby. But she’ll be big and strong one day! Bananawani hunt Sea Kings, did you know?” she said and babbled the poor marine’s ears off about the large reptiles for some minutes.

As the armoured glass elevator descended to deeper water, their surroundings became steadily darker. Shivs put her gaze on the glass floor and the pitch black abyss below. It was easier to face the darkness approaching than the light receding, the sparkle of the sun on the water surface dwindling as you sank. The sea has never been friendly to man.

Beside her, Benji had put her arm around Mani as she looked up. No more sea kings down here.

“The 6th level is also called ‘The Basement’,” Toby said, making the girl glance away from the ever more distant sunlight. “Do you know why?”

Ghosts in the attic and monsters in the basement, Shivs thought as she recalled the sailors’ idiom about grief with its haunting memories and stowed feelings.

Benji eyed him, holding on to Mani still. “Because it's dark and far down?”

Because nobody goes there if they can help it. Shivs stared at the watery dark beneath their feet. The sea floor might never come and she'd not be surprised.

“Nope!” Toby said, his smile bright in the dimming light. “Because it is where all the cool people stay.”

Benji’s mood lit up. “My unc- Dad, is super cool! He's actually made out of sand, like, for real.”

“Are you made out of sand?”

Shivs gaze snapped onto him like a hawk. He was looking at Benji, fondness soft on his youthful face. He couldn't be much older than 20 or 22.

“I don't think so?” Benji let go of Mani to brush at her clothes, then glanced at him. “Do you want to pet her?”

Toby smiled. “Absolutely.”

🐊 🐊 🐊

Horny hell seat reservations - @tiredemomama @smut-goblin @ruledbyproblematique @momodwriter @littlemountainwolf @fanaticsnail @feral-artistry - except there's no horny. Croc isn't even in it either. I feel like a cheat.

35 notes · View notes

eponymous-rose · 4 months

Text

OKAY, I have a lot going on over the next few weeks, and I desperately need to get my thoughts in order, so allow me to yell into the void about the research proposals I absolutely need to be working on over the next week:

Resubmission of a $600k grant proposal written with my colleague. This one technically doesn't have a deadline, but if we get it in quickly enough, we can fund an incoming grad student on it! The project is quite well-defined and we had a sit-down with the program manager, who both encouraged resubmission and went line-by-line through the last set of reviews to tell us which to follow and which to ignore. I've got a to-do list of changes, and thankfully no logistical stuff to worry about since we're submitting to the same call. I would estimate only about 5 hours needed to get this one ready to go for the first round of comments from my colleague/co-PI, and it'll just be going through the first version line-by-line with my notes and the reviews in front of me, changing as I go. My goal by Friday of next week: complete draft to send to my co-PI.

Resubmission of a $700k grant proposal written with a friend at a different university. This one's a bit trickier, since it was rejected by one federal agency and we want to submit it to a completely different one, so it'll require a complete rewrite and a fair amount of logistical juggling. We have the revised budget ready to go, and my co-PI met with the program manager and got the good dirt on what they're looking for. So content is yes, but focus and logistics (page length, format, etc.) are way up in the air. I would guess about 15 hours to get a complete draft done, and ideally we want the whole thing done by the end of the month. I'll have to sit down with the old proposal, notes from my co-PI's meeting, and the new proposal call in front of me and do a fresh document. My goal by Friday of next week: At least one of the three main sections complete to send to my co-PI.

Brand-new $800k grant proposal written with a computer scientist at my university. We met at a talk I gave last quarter and just got along really well and figured we should work together, and then this call came out looking to fund work bridging the gap between EXACTLY our two disciplines, so we couldn't resist. We have a budget and a very, very loose idea of what we want to study, but the details are vague and we also need to have this in by approximately the end of the month. We've loosely structured it so that its three sections are my specialty, his specialty, and then a combo of the two, so my role initially here is going to be creating a framing narrative into which we can each independently drop our sections of the work. I'm guessing my total contribution will be around 20 hours on this one. My goal by Friday of next week: A detailed summary with point-form bullets in every single subsection.

Brand-new $???? grant written with a friend at a different university. We literally just saw this call two days ago and went "YES", so now it's a matter of figuring out if we can actually get things done. This is a totally new area for both of us (wildfire science!) but it would involve the experimental radars that he builds and the fluid dynamics expertise I have. This was kind of me going "yes, let's do it!" so I feel some responsibility here to come up with some big ideas. I need to clarify, but I think we need to have this done by the first week of March or so, and we need to talk to the program manager to see if they're interested. We can talk budget at our meeting next week (or via e-mail), so I think initially here I just need to put some ideas on paper, similar to #3 above. No idea how much time to expect to put into this one. My goal by Friday of next week: A detailed summary with point-form bullets in every single subsection.

Grant co-written with a postdoc from Zurich who wants to come work with me! She's applying for two years of funding, but the deadline isn't until August so honestly I just need to brainstorm a small idea or two that I can contribute to the conversation.

Phew. Okay. Let's get started on some of this.

#eponymous academia tag #pomodoro my beloved don't fail me now

26 notes · View notes

sorryjustafangirl · 1 year

Text

babe for the weekend

a/n: this is a little different than what i usually write, in terms of boy and structure but i am really really proud of how it turned out, so i hope y'all like it too! the title comes from Taylor Swift's ''tis the damn season" and it quite inspired by it. this is for @broadstbroskis, one of the very first writers i starting following on hockeyblr. it was an absolute honour to write for her in @antoinerousselssel's winter fic exchange and i really really hope she enjoys it (and all its Swiftie references <3)

pairing: morgan rielly x fem!reader

word count: 8.8k+

warnings: a few swears, holiday setting (although not crazy prominent), childhood idiot friends to lovers?

disclaimer: this is a piece of fiction and this beautiful gif is not mine! p.s. i know he got engaged recently (to the figure skating love of my life Tessa Virtue; congrats to them!) but i was too deep in the fic to switch it when i heard the news. hope you still love it!

Morgan had been getting you out of trouble since the day you two could walk. You’d knock over a vase, and he’d find a way to blame the dog. You’d convince him to mattress surf down the stairs, and he put it back while you stalled your mom so she wouldn’t know. He would tell his mom that she “saw you walk up the stairs after dinner like hours ago” when you only snuck in his window four minutes before.

That didn’t end when he left to play junior hockey or when he got drafted and you moved across the country for school. Despite being in the same city, you relied less on him to bail you out as you got older, but every once in a while, his number was on speed dial to decipher if a guy was phishing you or for a 2am pickup from the club.

Granted, you’d saved him just as many times. You’d posed as his girlfriend to save him from puck bunnies and more than once told his mom it was you he was out with, instead of the girlfriend he wasn’t supposed to have. Every other week, he’d call with a question he was too embarrassed to ask his own mom (“is $10 too much for a carton of orange juice?”).

You just never thought he’d be bailing you out like this.

As the youngest of four kids (and the last single one), your parents were overbearing about your love life to say the least. But in the holiday season? It dialed up to 11.

“Are you sure you’re alright though? We don’t want you to be feeling lonely.” Your mom brought up at the end of your weekly Zoom family call, complete with all your siblings and grandma.

“For the last time, I am not lonely. I have great friends, I have a good job at an ad agency, and my credit card is paid off. I’m doing great!”

“But it’s a big city, darling. You’ve been out of school for years and you still haven’t told us about any guy. Or-or girl, if you’re into that,” she tried to reason.

“Mom, she isn’t lonely because she’s getting some!” Ben, your youngest brother, chimed in, making you cringe.

“Grow up, dork,” Julie, your eldest sister, said at the same time your older brother, James, said “Nice one!”

“Kids, you’re making Grams blush, can you knock it off?” Your dad chimed in. Ben’s face flushed but that didn’t stop James from poking the bear.

“Just think Mom, there’s less people to feed at Christmas!”

“That’s what you take out of this? Your sister could be at risk for depression.”

“I don’t have depression!”

“You always talk to me with an iced coffee, I do get a little concerned.” “Rude!” “Hey! Ruby drinks iced coffees too and she’s not depressed.” “She’s in a relationship with you, I’d rethink that.” “You aren’t depressed when you’re in happy relationships, that’s what I know.” “Grams, that is not true.” “That’s what Cynthia at book club said!” “None of that changes the fact that your sister hasn’t had a boyfriend in a long time and I’m worried about her!” “She’s not that old Brenda.” “She’s not seventeen anymore Thomas, our daughter is getting older and if she wants kids–” “Kids? Mom, she doesn’t even have a boyfriend.” “That’s my point!” “Who said she wants kids?” “Julie, you’re a mother, you should know every woman wants kids!” “Grams, that isn’t true.”

All of their overlapping voices seemed to get louder, rattling around in your brain, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I have a boyfriend!” You blurted and the screen silenced. You relished the small moment of quiet before the sound exploded again.

“What?” “Yes!” “Who is he?” “Is he coming home with you?” “What’s his name?”

“Woah, woah. One at a time please,” you nervously laughed.

“What’s his name?” The smiles on your mom and Grams faces were so wide it was starting to freak you out and your brain froze. What’s a boy’s name what’s a boy name what’s a boy’s name??

“Morgan.”

Your brain blurted out the name before you realized its implications.

“Morgan?” Your mom’s smile widened. “Like our Morgan? The Rielly’s boy?”

Shit, shit, shit. “You’ll have to wait to find out.”

“If they couldn’t get together in high school, no way it would happen now. I say it’s different.” “There’s lots of Morgans in Toronto! It’s a big city.”

“Yeah, I call bullshit on this whole boyfriend thing,” your older sister Julie chimed in.

You felt blood starting to drain from your face “What?”

“Oh c’mon! All we have is a name? You don’t want to share his job or what he looks like? You can’t even tell us if he’s coming back with you. You’re just faking it.”

“His work is busy, we haven’t decided if he’s coming back yet!”

“Two weeks before the holidays?” She raised an eyebrow and you pursed your lips.

“Fine. I was going to surprise you instead, but yes he’s coming back with me. And he has blond hair. Happy?” Julie only shrugged but you could hear your grandmother rejoice in the background of the call. “Look, I have to go but I’ll see you all in two weeks.”

“With Morgan! Oh, I’m so excited to meet him!”

“Yes. With Morgan.” You ended the phone call and flopped into your couch pillows before letting out a scream.

Where were you going to find a Morgan with blond hair to act as a fake-boyfriend to meet your family across the country?

-----

“Just call your Morgan.” Your best friend, Ivy, said as the two of you sat in Fran’s, the best diner for burger and fries past Jarvis street, for your regular lunch chat.

“No, it’d be weird! He’s known my family for a long time and we’re friends.” You shook your head while munching on your fries.

“Those are exactly the reasons you should take him! Plus, you said his name. I don’t get why you’re making it into this big deal about taking him.”

“Because it is!”

“But why? It’s not like you’re in love with him,” She said, dipping her fries in ketchup.

“About that…” You trailed off, biting your lip waiting for her reaction.

She dropped the food before it could get to her mouth. “No!”

“Look, it was when we were in high school! I was about to tell him when we moved out here, but then he was saying how there was so much on his plate and he was feeling a lot of pressure and I just didn’t want to add to that, you know?” You took a bite of your food before continuing. “I didn’t want him to resent me for telling him at such a crucial point in his life.”

“And now?”

You shrugged. “I think I’ll always have some sort of feelings for him. He was my best friend growing up.”

“You’re going to have to be really good at hiding those feelings when you’re posing as boyfriend and girlfriend with him.”

“Who said I’m asking him?”

Ivy raised her eyebrows. “Where else are you going to find a blond-haired Morgan to bring home to your family across the country in less than two weeks?” You threw a fry at her, which she grabbed and put on her own plate. “Besides, there’s no harm in asking. He can always say no.”

-----

“Yes.”

“Really?” You asked a little too loudly, putting your coffee mug down a little too harshly, gaining the attention of others in the cafe the two of you routinely catch up in. But you didn’t care. You were expecting a little more skepticism from Morgan when you proposed him playing a fake boyfriend role in front of your family.

“Yeah, ‘course. It’s my job to bail you out of trouble, isn’t it?” You playfully kicked him under the table. “Besides, I haven’t seen Vancouver or your family in a while. It’d be nice to go back to the old times.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, instinctively placing a hand on his arm laid across the table. “Okay, so I don’t know when your season ends but I’m hoping we can fly out for like three days maximum, so it’ll be quick, and we can use your job as an excuse so that’ll be good. For the story, obviously we just went out one day after being friends for a long time, so that’ll be easy. You asked me out. Five or six months is a good timeline for them not knowing but also you coming home so let’s stick to that. You can’t tell your parents because my mom will be furious if Shirley knew before her. Um, Ben, my little brother – you know him–, he’s bringing his girlfriend Ruby, but she’s chill so you’ll get along with her a lot. Drew, my oldest nephew, he’s Julie’s kid and then Charlie and Julie had Rebekah the year before last and Izzy, who is James’s wife, just had baby Taylor a couple months ago so the house is going to be chaotic. You should be writing this down, you know.” You slowed down to notice that Morgan was just staring at you. “I just said so much stuff you need to remember.”

“I know your family. Trust me, it’s going to be fine. I’ll remember all that,” He assured you, placing a hand over your arm like you had done to him.

“Are you sure? I just..I can’t have this go wrong. Julie already suspects the legitimacy of this…fake relationship.”

He squeezes your arm and sends you one of his smiles that makes your heart swell. “We’ve got this in the bag.”

-----

You’d both decided that it’d be easiest if you came to the airport together, so you said you’d pick him up from morning practice. You were waiting in the parking garage at the arena, scrolling through your phone, until you heard footsteps. Looking up, you see Morgan, Mitch, and Willy walking towards you. You give them a shy wave, and they all return with big grins, like they knew something they didn’t. Morgan came up to you, swung an arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Bye guys, safe travels,” He shouted over his shoulder, the two of you walking towards your vehicle. Once they were out of earshot, you turned to Morgan.

“What was that?”

“What?”

“That forehead kiss!”

“Oh!” His smile grew a little. “I was practicing for this weekend. Was it okay?” His slight concern made your heart beat faster and you could feel heat starting to go to your face.

“I mean, yeah, but like won’t the guys think that, you know, we’re—”

“Believe me, the guys already think we’re together.”

“What?!”

He laughed. “They asked about my plans for the holidays and I said I was going home with you. They just assumed we were dating and it felt like a lot of work to correct them. It’s okay, I promise.”

“If you say so,” you hummed. You unlatched yourself from his arm as you approached your car but Morgan stopped in his tracks and started to laugh.

“You’re still driving this old thing?” He was referring to your blue Honda you’d had since high school.

“Excuse me, you named this thing and Louise is still in great shape so of course I still drive her. Now get in.” He holds up his hands in surrender. You buckled yourself in and turned the engine over. The dash lit up like a Christmas tree and the radio was uneven again, so you hit the console a few times before it started to come out of both speakers.

“Great shape, sure.”

“Shut up.”

-----

Despite the busyness of the Toronto Pearson International Airport during the holidays, the two of you seemed to breeze through security and boarding. It wasn’t until you stepped onto the airplane, you’d realized just how much anxiety you got from flying.

Morgan offered to put both carry-on bags in the overhead bins and you gladly took him up the offer. You slid into your seat, immediately putting on the seatbelt and making it tight against your hips.

“We aren’t flying just yet,” He teased, sliding into the seat next to you.

“I know, it’s just that I–nevermind, it’s silly.” You murmured with a strained smile.

“No, what is it?” You met your eyes and you took a deep breath. This was Morgan, your Morgan. He’d seen you cry after you got root beer up your nose and he only laughed a little.

“Airplanes give me a lot of anxiety and I hate takeoffs. It’s just really nerve wracking for me.”

“Okay, well I’m right here. Would it help if I held your hand?” You shyly nodded, and Mo grabbed a hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together and rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You tried to take deep breaths but after the safety presentation, and the plane started to taxi, it got shallower and the grip on Morgan’s hand got stronger.

“I think it's time for a distraction. Want to help me out here?” He said, turning his body towards yours as much as he could. You nodded, trying not to focus on the bouncing of the wings outside your window.

“What kind of pet names do you like?”

That was…not what you were expecting but it certainly is a distraction. “I don’t really know? I didn’t name our dogs, Julie or my parents did. Why?” You look over to Morgan to see him quietly laughing to himself. “What?”

“I meant like, romantic pet names. So I can play this boyfriend role right, you know?”

“Oh,” you said, feeling your face heat up. “Uh, I don’t really know. My past boyfriends weren’t really into those.” You continued to take deep breaths as he pulled out his phone.

“Okay, cool, I’ve got a list and we can just go through them?” You nodded and he started.

“Honey?”

“We aren’t fifty years old Mo.”

“Sweetie?”

“I’m not five either,” you joked. At your attempt at humour, you say Morgan’s face lit up.

“What about sweetheart?” Your grimace made him laugh and he moved on. “Kitten? Dear? Babe? Sugar plum?”

“You can call me babe. For the weekend, of course. I like that one.”

“Of course, babe.” He winked. “And look, we’re in the air already. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You looked out and the clouds were level, the city skyline peeking through like a scene out of a movie. You look back at him to see him already looking at you. Unable to say everything you feel for him in that moment (platonically, you tell yourself), you squeeze his hand.

-----

As you touched back in Vancouver (still holding Morgan’s hand for safety purposes), it started to feel real. Real you were back in the city, real Morgan was here, and real that you were supposed to be acting like you’re in love.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Hold my bag for me?” Morgan asked, once you’d deplaned and entered the airport. You nodded and shooed him off, finding a place in the nearest lounge to wait for him. You pulled out your phone and started to catch up on messages when someone beside you cleared their throat.

“Sorry to bother you but did you go to Prince of Wales Secondary School in Vancouver?” You turned towards the voice to see someone so familiar but couldn’t put a finger on who.

“Um, yes. How did you know that?”

“I’m Abigail Brown. I think you were my lab partner in high school chemistry?” As soon as she said it, it was like everything rushed back to you. The two of you were good friends but just fell out of touch as years went on.

“Oh my gosh yes! Oh my gosh, hi! How have you been?” You got out of your seat to give her a hug.

“I’ve been really good! My girlfriend and I are headed to London for the holidays.”

“Oh fun! I’ve come back for the holidays with my uh..” You trailed off, thinking of what to call this arrangement. “Morgan Reilly, do you remember him?”

“Yeah, totally. Did he come back with you?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah, we’re here together.”

“No way, that’s so sweet! Back in the day, everyone was wondering when you two would get together!”

“Oh, really?” You asked, surprised. You had thought that your crush on one of your closest friends was pretty discrete.

“Yeah, a lot of us thought you’d be a cute couple. Turns out we were right,” she winked and nodded her head behind you. You turned to see Morgan coming back with two Tim Horton cups in his hands – one hot coffee for him and one Iced Capp for you. You tilted your head at his thoughtfulness.

“My flight is boarding now, but it was so nice to see you again!” Abigail said, waving briefly to Morgan before leaving with her girlfriend.

“Yeah, you too!” You called after her. “Is that coffee for me?” You asked, a wide smile on your face.

“Because it is so ridiculously early, it is,” he said, placing it in your hands. “Who was that?”

“My high school lab partner. She thought we were together, actually.”

Morgan gave you a puzzled look. “Isn’t that what she’s supposed to think?”

“I mean, I guess, but we’re really just pretending for my family, so I didn’t think she’d think we’re together.” Morgan only hummed at your response and grabbed his bag.

“Ready to head to your parents' then?”

Like coming home, the two of you navigated through the airport easily and were on your way to your parents house in no time. Outside of the Uber, looking up at your childhood home, you felt your nerves getting the best of you again. The warm Christmas lights and the three cars in the driveway should’ve calmed you down, but instead had the opposite effect.

“Okay, so, again, we’ve been dating for five months, you asked me out. We kept it a secret, so your parents don’t know either. Ruby is Ben’s girlfriend. Drew and–”

“–Rebekah are Julie and Charlie’s kids. Rebekah is two years old. James married Izzy and their baby, Taylor, was born last month,” He finished with a smile. “Told ya I’d remember it. It’s going to be fine, let’s just go see your family?” He held out his hand for you to take and you cautiously placed it in his. He tugged you up to the front door, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to ring the doorbell. He left it over your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Trust me, we’ve got this.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek but before you could process what he was playing at, your mom had opened the front door.

“Oh, it is our Morgan! Thomas, I told you it was going to be him! Oh, come in, come in,” she ushered you in and your family all appeared, saying their hellos, taking your bags up to your room, placing drinks in your hands and leading you both into the living room. You settled in beside Morgan, your thighs touching each other as he reached over to entangle your hand with his.

“So, Morgan, my daughter hasn’t told us anything yet! How long have you been together?” Your mom said, once everyone was back together and catching up with the two of you.

“Couldn’t have been too recent if you brought him home with you,” Julie said, her skepticism showing through.

“Can’t be too long either since she never told us about him!” James said, nudging her.

Before you could get a word in and defend yourselves, Morgan spoke up. “We started dating five months ago. Might seem a little fast to come home for Christmas but I remember your family pretty well from when I was little. Plus, the schedule lined up really nicely this year so we figured, why not? But we decided to keep it to ourselves for the first little bit, with my job and everything. It can be a really hard adjustment. Especially with the media, I didn’t want them to freak her out.”

“Aw, how sweet of you.”

“Who asked who out?” Ruby said, curled up next to her boyfriend.

“She asked me.” Your heart stopped as Morgan deviated from the plan you’d created. “It was nice, though, so I didn’t have to rack up the courage to ask her the same thing.” He turned towards you, meeting your eyes. To your family, you were recounting your first date and how you’ve been in love since. But Morgan was trying to get away with changing the story and you were civilly throwing daggers at him.

“That’s nice. But you’ve got to get dressed, we’re still going cross country skiing this afternoon.” Julie said, standing up.

“Why?” you whined. “We’re tired from traveling.”

“Then exercise will be good for you. And it’s tradition, you can’t deprive Morgan of that.” The smile she sent you was fake and you could tell, narrowing your eyes at her.

“Yeah, babe, don’t deprive me from family traditions,” he commented, earning a small poke to his side, but you nodded, going to find your warm clothes.

-----

Cypress Mountain was where your family always skied on Christmas Eve. It was a tradition passed on from your grandfather, who’d done it with his father, and your family liked to keep it alive. It was a thirty minute drive, forty five in Vancouver traffic, so your head fell to Morgan’s shoulder. Soon enough, he was shaking you awake.

“We’re here, sleeping beauty,” He said softly, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Ready?”

“The better question is if you’re ready. I’ve been doing this for years,” you laughed, getting out of the car and walking towards the lodge to get Morgan skis.

“Please, I’m an athlete. I’ll be fantastic.” He grabbed your hand and your heart started to beat faster at the cute gesture, only to notice some of your family behind you, watching the two of you. Of course, it was only for show. What else would be for? You reminded yourself.

Twenty minutes later, and you were still watching Mo struggle to clip his skis in, trying not to laugh when he fell over.

“‘I’m an athlete, I’ll be fantastic’” you said, mocking him and he pouted. You unclipped your own skis and held your hands out to help him get up.

“The key is this little latch here,” you said, guiding his foot into the ski. You did the same with the other before getting yourself ready.

“Where would I be without you?” He said, as the two of you, slowly, moved to the track.

“Probably still be on the ground,” you said with a cheeky smile. You knocked his poles with yours. “Want to go this way? It’s easier than the track they’re doing,” you said, referring to the rest of your family.

He looked up at the hill your family, including your little nephew, were already halfway up and shook his head.

“If this is a family tradition, and I’m supposed to be part of your family, I should do it with them. We can join them, I’ll be okay.”

Morgan was right, for the most part. He got the hang of it pretty quickly, and soon enough you were both caught up to your family. He was smiling, and talking with your dad and brothers. You had time to catch up with Ruby and Charlie, who you never really saw in the family Zoom chats.

Until you rounded the corner and saw Morgan standing to the side. You didn’t understand why until you saw what was ahead – the hills. For your family, including daredevil Drew, it was easy. But for a beginner like Morgan? You understood why he stopped.

“If you want to turn back now, it’s okay. They’ll understand.”

He shook his head again. “I’ve got to sell this boyfriend thing, don’t I? Just…can you go first?” You nodded and made your way down, gaining some speed before slowing down and stopping at the base to watch him.

“You’ve got this, Mo, just do it!” You told him. He nodded at your words and came down slowly, mimicking the way you had just conquered the hill. His eyes were determined, the way you saw he was on the ice, and your smile got wider as he made it down successfully.

“Yes! You did it!”

That was, until he caught an edge and very ungracefully tumbled to the ground.

“Well, you mostly did it. I thought you were supposed to be coordinated!” You said in a joking manner, maneuvering over to where he was trying to get up.

“I don’t usually have these long things attached to my feet!” After his attempts, he held his hands out and you helped him stand upright again.

“Are you okay? It looked like you fell pretty hard.”

“My ego is bruised more than anything,” He mumbled.

“Why? None of them saw your wipeout.” You nodded towards your family who were all ahead and had no idea of what had happened.

“But you did.”

“It’s not like you have to impress me,” You said, waving it off and starting to move along the trail. He only huffed, settling into pace beside you.

-----

After making it back to the lodge in one piece, you all traveled back to your parent’s and sat down for a family dinner, albeit quick, as the kids’ bedtime was long ago. You helped your mom with the dishes while Morgan had “bonding time”, as he called it, with your brothers and Dad.

“I’m glad you brought Morgan home, sweetheart,” she said, breaking through the quiet sounds of washing dishes. “He’s a catch and you seem really happy with him.”

You blushed, involuntarily, and nodded. “I am really happy when I’m with him.”

There were sounds of protests and laughter, so you peeked your head around to see Ben on the couch leaning over Morgan’s lap to ruffle James’ hair, only to get caught by Morgan in a loose headlock. Your dad was laughing at their antics and you joined him. It was nice to see Morgan be so carefree, especially with the stress of the season.

“Hey!” Ben got your attention. “Your boyfriend is bullying me, tell him to stop!”

“Maybe you deserved it,” You said, moving to be behind the couch. “Morgan is usually right.”

Morgan looked at you and only let Ben free once you gave me a small nod. You leaned down over the couch, wrapping your arms around his chest. At the slight display of affection, James gagged but thankfully, Izzy came down and whisked away her husband. Ben left shortly after that and you noticed Morgan’s head starting to drop.

“Okay, we’re still on Toronto time a little bit,” You checked with Morgan, who was nodding along. “So we’re going to hit the hay, but Mom, I didn’t see the spare blankets for the pull-out couch?”

“Oh, you don’t need them, Ben has them.”

“What?” You asked, removing your hands from Morgan so he couldn’t tell how clammy they suddenly got. “Where’s Morgan going to sleep?”

“In your bed. It’ll be better for his back.” She answered.

“Where am I going to sleep?”

“In your bed.” She sighed when she saw the shock on your face. “Look, we trust Morgan. Besides, it’s a big bed and your dad and I aren’t under the impression you haven’t already slept together.” Her bluntness made you choke on your breath and Morgan patted your back, answering for you.

“Thank you Brenda. We'll be good, I promise.”

“I know you will. And if you aren’t, know I’m not above telling your mother,” She said with a smirk. “Now, goodnight.”

You both said your goodnights, and headed up to your room. Morgan shut the door behind you and you immediately started apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I was certain she’d send one of us to the basement. She never let Charlie or Izzy sleep in the same room with my siblings until they were married,” you said, rummaging through your suitcase for pajamas.

He waved you off and took a look around your room. It hadn’t changed much since high school, your parents leaving it unchanged for when you came back. The photos in the frames and on the walls were faded and each childhood trophy and trinket was covered in a small layer of dust – not enough for it to be untouched, but enough for it to be preserved.

The sound of you digging through the closet for extra pillows broke him away from your walls. There were two blankets spread out on the floor and you dropped the pillows you’d found on the space above them.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed,” You answered. “You can get changed in the bathroom.”

“Why aren’t you in the bed?”

“Because you’re sleeping on the bed, hotshot. Can you please get changed, I want to sleep.” He huffed but nodded, slipping out of the room. When he came back to see you curled up on the floor beside the queen sized bed, he let out a small sigh and moved towards you.

“I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor. Please come sleep on the bed?” He said, standing over top of you.

“I…I don’t want it to be weird.” You said, suddenly interested in the fraying fibres of your blanket.

“It’s not going to be weird. I promise. Please?” You turned to see him with his puppy-dog eyes and you started to break.

“I don’t know Mo…”

“I’d feel better if you slept in the bed, babe, please? For me?” At that, you relented, nodding your head. He helped you up, gathering the blankets from the floor and laying them over you in the bed.

He slipped in beside you, a large margin of space between the two of you. It was silent as you got comfy and you turned off your side table light. Morgan hadn’t followed your lead, so you looked over to see him looking at his side table.

“Remember when we took this picture?” Morgan said, pointing to the only frame on the table. You didn’t even have to look at the photo to know which one he was referring to. It was the last day he spent in Vancouver before the draft and it was a few days before your graduation date. You’d taken your car to the North Shore and hiked to Lighthouse Park. The serenity of being able to see far into the ocean and see the downtown skyline was the place both of you had gone to clear your mind. You’d taken a silly selfie together but it was the one physical memento of your last time together in Vancouver. It was when you almost confessed your feelings to him.

“Of course I do. It was a good day.”

“Do you think about it a lot?” He asked, and you turned your body to face him.

“I mean, sometimes, yeah. Do you think about it a lot?”

He nodded, his eyes fixated on the picture. “Yeah. Reminds me of when life seemed normal.”

You stayed silent for a few moments, watching his eyes begin to get hazy looking at the picture. “Are you okay, Mo?”

He just nodded curtly, and turned off the light. “Goodnight.”

You couldn’t lie and say his behaviour didn’t feel like a thousand cuts to your heart but you said goodnight before turning to face away from him, like he’d done to you.

-----

The sun shining in from the window woke you up in the morning. You started to stir, stretching your arms and legs, but stopped when you felt arms around you. You slowly turned your head to see Morgan close to you, his arms wrapped around your waist. Sometime during the night, he must’ve moved to start cuddling you. You thought it should feel weird, being so close to your friend like this, but all you felt was a sense of calm. Being hyper aware of his arms, you shifted slightly to face him.

You took the opportunity to look at him, really look at him. Not on the TV, through his hockey gear, not in the cafe when he was conscious that anyone could recognize him, but when he was just him. The sun was shining on him, giving his skin that soft golden glow. The lines on his forehead were almost nonexistent and his beard was filling out nicely. He looked so peaceful here, like he wasn’t one of Toronto’s biggest stars. You looked at him, your face softening as he started to stir under your gaze.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” you teased in a quiet voice, the same way he��d done to you yesterday.

“Hmm, what time is it?” His voice was raspy and it took everything in yourself not to kiss him right there.

“Early,” you answered and he hummed in response. He slowly opened his eyes and must’ve noticed how close he was to you because his eyes got increasingly wider. His eyes met yours and when he didn’t see any panic or disgust in them, he relaxed, a small smile coming onto his face.

“Morning babe,” He said, pulling you a little closer to him.

“Nobody’s around, you don’t have to call me that.”

“What if I want to?”

You looked up at him, eyes wide in shock and your lips parted. What did he say? It might have been a shock to your brain, but your body seemed to long for a closeness to him. Your heart wasn’t beating faster, no, it seemed to slow down, as if the idea of a relationship with him was the only thing to calm you.

You noticed his eyes glancing down at your lips and you swallowed. Was he…what was he doing? He started to lean his head towards you and you felt yourself leaning in as well. He was close enough you could feel his breath hot on your face and see the grey flicks in his eyes. You started to close your eyes, his hand caressing your waist from under the covers, and —

“Auntie, Auntie! He came! Santa came! You have to get up! Come see!” Drew yelled through the door, pounding away as if you didn’t hear him. You broke away from Morgan, the small bubble popped by your nephew.

“We’ll be right there Drew!” you yelled back, rubbing your forehead and getting out of bed. You left Morgan in bed, running downstairs to start some coffee, desperately needing to clear your head. What just happened?

“Morning, sweetheart!” You sighed as your mom walked into the room, too chipper for how early it was. “I’ve got the pajamas for you and Morgan.”

“Morgan too?” It was a tradition to dress in matching pajamas on Christmas morning but you didn’t think it was something your parents would enforce for him.

“Yup. Go get changed, I want to take photos soon.” She placed the two pajama sets in your arms and you trudged upstairs. You figured Mo was still laying in bed so you didn’t knock, just charged right in. Maybe you should’ve knocked. But then you wouldn’t get to see Morgan shirtless. Your brain short-circuited until you saw him looking back at you and you shut your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to knock! My mom wanted me to give you these. Matching pajamas and photos before gifts is a family tradition.” You tried to pull out his pair with your eyes closed but Mo just laughed when he saw you struggling. He came closer, his distinctive cologne invading your senses. He took one of the pairs, hopefully his size, from your arms.

“You can open your eyes, it’s okay.” You slowly opened one eye to test the waters, to see he was still without a shirt. You stared at him as long as it is socially acceptable to look at your best friend shirtless, before rushing out of the room to get changed yourself.

You beat Morgan downstairs, and got started on the coffees. After buying him many hungover wake-up coffees, you knew his order by heart. You brought them out to the table, your sister and her family having their portrait taken in front of the tree.

Mo came up from behind you, wrapping his arms around you and taking a whiff of your coffee. He recoiled at the hint of chocolate.

“Yours has vanilla creamer, don’t worry,” you told him, taking a sip while watching Taylor get her first family photo in front of the tree. It was so nice to see the smiles across your family’s faces as you had this tradition. When it became Ben and Ruby’s turn, you noticed Drew starting to get a little antsy, his eyes fixated on the big box with his name on it.

“Okay, sweetheart, yours and Morgan’s turn,” your mom said, clearing the area for you two to sit.

“Oh, Mom, Drew’s looking a little antsy. We can skip ours–”

“No!” Mo interrupted you, taking one last sip of his coffee before tugging you along to sit in front of the tree. You gave him a look and smiled shyly. “It’s our first Christmas together. I want a picture. Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” You turned to the camera, plastering a smile on. You were pretty close to him, your legs touching and his arm around your shoulders. Near the end, Morgan pressed a kiss to your cheek and you blushed, the sound of the camera clicking long forgotten as you stared into his eyes.

“Auntie, can I please please open my presents from Santa now?” Drew said, once again interrupting the moment between you and Morgan.

“Of course, baby, but you have to open the ones from me and Morgan next, deal?” He shrieked and scrambled over to the boxes, ripping into his wrapping paper. You stood up, grabbing your coffee before watching your nephew and niece on Christmas morning.

“Look at how cute you two are together,” She said, tilting the camera towards you. The first one was a cute photo. Morgan had his lips pressed against your cheek and your face was scrunched up in joy. She switched it to the next one, where the two of you were looking into each other’s eyes. He had the softest, earnest smile on his face. “I swear, I haven’t seen any people so in love since Ben met Ruby. I’m so glad you brought him home.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You put on the best fake-smile you could, and turned back to the kids, trying not to think about how they two of you did look in love. But it wasn’t real and your stomach sunk. You took a seat on the couch, talking to Rebekah about her new doll and watching Drew drive his toy cars across the coffee table.

“Who are these from?” you dad asked, holding up some small packages wrapped in blue paper.

“Oh, those are from me sir.” Morgan spoke up from behind you, moving to sit beside you. “There should be one for everyone.” Your dad nodded and handed them out to everyone while you turned to your fake-boyfriend.

“Mo, I told you you didn’t have to bring anything,” you said, eyeing everyone tearing into their small gifts.

“Now what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He winked at you, before turning to see their reactions. You were glad you’d turned too.

Everyone was holding up a different variety of a Toronto Maple Leafs keychain. Ben held one with a bottle opener on it and Drew held one that had skate on it. Some of them had the shape of Ontario with them or a special spinny part in the middle.

“You’re really banking on us liking you, eh?” Julie said, holding up her Rielly jersey keychain.

“I’m planning on sticking around for a while. I figure you’ll be fans sooner or later,” he laughed off your sister’s hazing and assured your parents it was the least he could do. He turned to you. “And I didn’t forget you either.”

“What? No. Babe, I thought we were doing gifts back in Toronto?” If you’d known, you would’ve gotten him something, but he seemed unfazed. He brought out a medium box and placed it in your lap.

“Are you sure? I didn’t bring anything for you,” you whispered to him. He just nodded and told you to open it. You ripped into the wrapping paper, opened the box, and tore out the tissue paper only to stop.

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” He said, his face growing. “Bring it out, let’s see it.”

You lifted out of the box a dark wash denim jacket, the same one you’d been trying to rationalize buying for the past three months. It was your size and you couldn’t help but run your fingers over the seams, tracing the buttons.

“Check the inside,” Morgan said, leaning over your shoulder. You turned your head to see him slightly blushing, and you turned to the jacket’s inside as quickly as you could. Inside there was a small label stitched in. Upon closer inspection, you read what it said and your breath hitched.

You’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town. Don’t forget it. Love, your Morgan

“Mo, I don’t even know what to say. This is-this is perfect. I love it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, before slipping out of the room, both empty mugs in his hands. Your heart started to beat faster again, and as you stared down at the inscription, you had to remind yourself that it didn’t mean anything special. He was acting like your boyfriend, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. This was all fake, and this must’ve been a part of it; a show for your family to make sure you didn’t get in trouble.

You shoved those feelings deep inside you, instead focusing on the Christmas spirit your family had. The living room was full of laughs and someone had turned on the Christmas music. Morgan came back and sat beside you, his arm resting comfortably over the back of the couch and you couldn’t help but curl into his side. The kids came over and asked to play with Morgan and he eagerly agreed, switching from playing cars to dolls to lifting them up to play the airplane game. Like the Grinch, your heart grew three sizes watching him interact with your family – the way he was so patient and sweet with them meant everything, even if he was just pretending.

Later, your Grams arrived and Morgan was quick to win her over as well. You bit your lip, trying to stop from smiling so wide as you watched him help her with her coat, and lead her over to where he was sitting.

“Do you mind holding her for a few minutes?” Izzy said, coming over with Taylor in her arms.

“Of course not! Come ‘ere, darling girl.” You rocked the baby in your arms, sometimes looking over to where Morgan was. Sometimes you even catch him looking at you. You took Taylor’s little hand and waved at him, and he over-enthusiastically waved back, making you laugh.

“You picked a good one, you know? The two of you are really adorable together.” Izzy said, coming back to take her daughter from you.

“Thanks Iz. He’s just…” You trailed off, trying to describe the situation. “I couldn’t imagine doing all of this with anyone else.” And it was the truth. From the plane ride to skiing to the gifts this morning, you couldn’t fathom bringing back a stranger and pulling this off in the same way.

“Sounds like you’ve found the one then.” Her comment made you choke on air and turned into a full coughing fit. Before you knew it, Morgan was beside you, his blue eyes full of concern.

“Are you okay?” His hand was rubbing your upper back as you continued to cough. You nodded as best you could, and he turned to get his cup. When you seemed to be finished, he handed it to you.

“Here, drink. It’s water.” You gulped down the water and sighed.

“Thank you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m good, thank you. I’m just going to get my lip balm; will you be okay on your own for a while?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm.

“It’s your family, not war,” He laughed. “Go, I’ll be fine.”

You smiled at his comment and gave him a quick cheek peck before making your way out of the room. In the bathroom, you took a breather, trying to stop your cheeks from blushing. Whatever you were doing with Morgan, it felt real. But it wasn’t, and you had to keep reminding yourself of that before you got hurt.

When you exited, Grams was standing outside the door.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize someone was waiting,” you said, quickly leaving the bathroom but she waved you off.

“Oh, I haven’t been here that long. But dear, my goodness, that Morgan. He’s a keeper, dear. You hold onto him, you hear me? With him, you’ll be happy for the rest of your life.” She said, patting your cheek before walking past you to the bathroom. You stood in shock for a moment at her words, before taking a deep breath and moving on.

You were just friends.

You repeated that to yourself as you sat next to him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. You repeated it again when he moved your legs into his lap, caressing your ankle. You said it again when he snagged the race car, arguably the best Monopoly piece, only to give it to you, taking the lame iron for himself.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” Julie said, tapping your shoulder, just before Monopoly (another family tradition) started. You nodded, and lifted your legs out of Mo’s lap. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before following her into the kitchen.

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to apologize.” You furrowed your brows a little bit. “You know, for thinking your relationship was fake? It was wrong for me to think your relationship wasn’t serious but…I was just trying to look out for Mom and Dad. You don’t see how worried they get when you say you don’t have anyone in that big city. You’re the youngest, they’re always going to worry. And it’s just …You never even remotely told me about anyone and I didn’t want you to be faking it, just to get them off your back. But I was wrong and I’m sorry if it seemed like I was doubting your relationship. He’s perfect for you, and you seem really happy together.”

It was everything you’d been wanting to hear – that even the most skeptic of your family bought your lie and was happy for Christmas. But no relief came like you thought it would; only a lump forming in your throat. “Thanks Julie, that…that means a lot. Would you excuse me please?”

You slipped out of the room, taking the stairs two at a time. You paced around for a few moments, before sitting on the edge of your bed, placing your head in your hands. You’ve gotten in too deep now and it’s going to hurt everyone — yourself included — when you have a ‘breakup’. Your mom will resent Morgan, sweet sweet Morgan, and he’ll probably get chewed out by his own mother, and it’ll all be your fault. You did this to your family, to Morgan, to yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Morgan said, leaning against your doorframe.

“Julie thinks we’re dating. Like for real. They all do. ” At your words, he pushed off the wall and sat beside you on the bed, his hands dangerously close to touching yours. You move them into your lap before you can’t function.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

“I thought that was the whole point of this? To make them think we’re dating?”

“No, it was. It’s just….” You trailed off, looking down at your hands.

“It’s just what?”

“It’s too much, okay!” You stood up and turned to face him. “Like you’re here. You’re in Vancouver again, with me again, in my parent’s house like we’re fifteen again! You can’t be around like this and expect me not to think about the road not taken! And it doesn’t seem to bother you! And I don’t like lying! I don’t need to be lying to both our families, your teammates, my friends! I don’t need to be lying to myself that I don’t enjoy this! It feels wrong. I know we lied a lot as kids, but it feels different this time. It feels like people are going to get hurt and I don’t think I was prepared for that.”

He took a moment. “We don’t have to lie, you know.”

“What do you mean? We’re fake dating; fake indicating lies.” You crossed your arms across your chest.

He took another moment, taking a deep breath. “We don’t have to be fake dating. We could…be dating for real.”

“What?” you whispered.

“Can I be honest here? Like really honest?” He asked, and you could only nod slightly. “I thought you would’ve got your head out of your ass by now. I thought you had feelings for me.

"Why do you think you said my name? You could’ve said any other name but you said mine. You could’ve found any other Morgan in Toronto but you asked me. You could’ve come clean to them! There were a thousand ways you could’ve gotten out of this but you didn’t! I thought that meant we had something special; that you were finding excuses to bring me here.” He sees your blank, shocked face as a sign to continue.

“And now that we’re here? Back in our hometown? It just all rushes back to me about how I didn’t tell you how I felt. Then I spend the days doing your family traditions and seeing you so happy with Drew and Rebekah and thinking that I could’ve had this a long time ago. But I was a coward and I don’t know if I can make the same mistake again.”

“What are you talking about?” You said breathlessly.

“When we were at Lighthouse Park that day, I almost told you I loved you. But I didn’t. And I went to Toronto and tried to forget the huge regret I’d made. I can’t- I can’t do that again. I love you. I have loved you since we were kids. I didn’t want you to be tied down when you moved out so I didn’t say anything and I tried to forget how I felt about you. But in two days, you’ve made me fall for you all over again and I can’t go back to how things were. I won’t. I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend when I am irrevocably in love with you. I want this,” He stood up and walked closer to you, his fingers reaching out for yours. “I want this to be real.”

“Mo…holy shit.”

“Yeah. It’s a lot, I know.” He went to step back, to give you space after everything he said, but you held onto his hand tighter.

“No, like holy shit, I was going to tell you I loved you that day too.” One of your hands traveled to rest on his cheekbone as you caressed his soft skin. “I didn’t want to give you more pressure as you started your career; that wouldn’t be fair. But some part of me has always wanted this to be real.”

“Really?” The corners of your mouth started to lift up as you nodded. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, ever the gentleman.

“Please.” And less than a second later, his mouth was on yours. Maybe it was a good thing you waited so long, because this was better than anything you could’ve imagined at eighteen. His hands found your waist, and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

When you finally pulled away for air, you pressed your forehead against his. “Wow.”

“You’re telling me.” You giggled at him and played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Guess you can tell the team we’re dating for real life now.”

He laughed and pulled you in for another kiss. “For real life, eh?”

“For real life. As long as you’ll have me. ”

“Forever then, babe.” He winked, squeezing you tight. “Now let’s go join the family, yeah? Gotta beat my in-laws at Monopoly.”

His antics had you in laughter all the way down the stairs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. There was happiness because of him.

taglist (join here): @heatherawoowoo @4ambagelbites @typical-simplelove @2manytabsopen @stars-canucks @lorrmorr @fallinallincurls @plds2000 @barzysandhughesbaby @yummygoldenfood @drei-mrssvechii @bananarantanen @pulpfixion

#the winter fic exchange 2k23 #morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl x reader #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #abby writes #fun fact i have had parts of this idea since i heard the song for the first time and im so glad to finally get it all out there for this <3

169 notes · View notes