a/n @frostyleegraham sent me these prompts on twitter! here’s #10, marlana style, because i used #20 for beardogs
Margot loves her children--all of them, the living son and the not-yet-born daughter and the one that never was. Morgan is the loudest of the three by default, though Margot’s sure that, once Alana delivers Abigail in February, she’ll challenge her older brother’s claim to the noise throne. For now, he practices shouting and running up and down the stairs and pulling breakable things off shelves.
Or, this morning, pushing the Christmas tree over when he tried to climb it. Margot’s beginning to understand why her mother’s hair was so thin.
Broken shards of shining gold and glass ornaments still nestle in the carpet by the time Alana comes home, Margot on hands and knees plucking out the bits the vacuum cleaner refused to pick up. Trapped inside the play yard, Morgan knocks the plastic pigs from his Fisher Price farm together, over and over, making car sounds when they crash.
Alana leans against the doorjamb, briefcase in one hand, the other absentmindedly rubbing her belly over her striped suit. “I’d ask how your day was,” she says, “but I think you might kill me.”
“Christmas is cancelled.” Margot glares at Alana’s obvious amusement. “When the family comes over, we’ll invite them in, take their coats, immediately hand their coats back, and tell them to leave presents at the door on the way out.”
“That bad, huh?”
“I’m not putting the da--the blam tree back up.”
“Of course not. We’ll let Morgan do it.”
Morgan perks up when he hears his name. “Mommy!” and he waves at her with both pigs. “Feed the baby!”
Usually, Margot laughs at Morgan reminding Alana to eat. Today, she’s just too tired. “Is it time for him to start preschool yet?”
“He doesn’t turn three for another four months.” Alana gives her belly one last parting pat. “Did you know you’re bleeding?” she asks, setting her briefcase down on the entryway table. “Where’s the first aid kit?”
Margot sits back on her heels to examine her hands. “On top of the fridge.” She glances down at the carpet. “I hope you like red polka dots.”
“I love p--”
“Feed the baby!”
“Morgan, just a minute, honey--I love red polka dots.” Alana’s kitten heels click against the kitchen floor’s ceramic tiles. “Where on top of the fridge?”
Margot wipes her hands off on her yoga pants. Might as well match the carpet. Behind her, Morgan makes an excited whoosh, and then a bright pink pig lands in the armchair to her right.
“Mar?”
“Sorry, behind the cookie jar.”
“Drink the baby, Mommy!” Morgan rattles one of the wooden sides of the play yard.
“Why is the cookie jar on top of the fridge?” Alana’s voice echoes as she shouts to be heard over their son.
Margot sighs, looking forlornly at the toppled tree. “Take a wild guess.”
Send me a prompt from this list (kpopfanfictrash . tumblr . com / post / 167140890336 / holiday-drabble-prompts) and one of the following pairings: beardogs, marlana, or shyan. I’ll do a prompt more than once, but not for the same ship. To keep track of the story and what prompts have been used, check #isawthreeships on my tumblr!
Crossposted to ao3. Standard messaging rates may apply.