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americasass81 · 2 months ago

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Dark Manifestations

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Stalking, Kidnapping, Bondage, Supernatural Elements, Use of Pet Name, Implied Mention of Anxiety, Implied Non-Consensual Sex, Implied Breeding. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- Taking a bit longer than I thought to complete, this fic was written as a birthday gift for @ironlady1993 and her love for these three heroes. Really hope you enjoy this Ari. Happy birthday my beautiful friend. lyl💕💕💕

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- Overseeing a Stark Party should be the opportunity of a lifetime, but what happens to that life when a certain set of heroes get ideas that don’t quite mesh with how you see your future?

Pairings:- dark!Steve Rogers x Named Female Reader, dark!Iron-Man x Named Female Reader, dark!Stephen Strange x Named Female Reader.

Total Word Count:- 3,752

The guests mingled and the drinks flowed as you left the kitchen area and headed off back towards the main hall. Wishing you could be back at home in your nice warm bed as various guests milled around and soaked up the party atmosphere, your boss had insisted however that you be on hand to make sure everything ran smoothly despite the fact that this was not how you had planned on spending your birthday. After all, as she was quick to inform you, a Stark party was an entertainment extravaganza and organizing one could make or break any firm. So here you stood, a beacon of poise and professionalism as Avengers and guests alike talked, drank and appeared to be having a fabulous time. If only the same could be said for you.

Looking out over the expanse of guests and servers while trying to calculate whether or not there was enough of everything to keep all of them satisfied, as well as thinking of all the other activities you could be presently engaged in, your distracted state forced you to jump a little however when the words whispered from a body behind your back brought you back to your current task and location. "Hey sweetheart, this is a great party you’ve thrown together. Didn’t mean to startle you though. May I buy you a drink at the bar?" the obvious male voice asked and you thanked all the gods both old and new that you had kept your retort about the drink being free to yourself when you turned around to find none other than Steve Rogers invading what little space remained in the doorway.

"Thank you Captain Rogers but unfortunately some of us are actually working here tonight. Now if you'll excuse me," you continued politely while also failing to note the disappointment that crossed his chiseled features, "but I really must get back to things," you finished before walking away and picking up a tray to begin clearing up some empty glasses you saw sitting unattended on an nearby table without sparing him a second thought. But perhaps you should have.

Standing there a while longer in your wake now, Steve bit his lip as he tried to figure out what exactly it was about your rebuff that didn't sit well with him however. Sure he had spent his younger years being practically ignored and ridiculed by the opposite sex and though Sam had now taken up the shield in his place, he was still Steve Rogers and it irked him to be dismissed, however politely, in favor of you doing a job that was quite clearly several steps beneath you. Thinking on how he could make you see the error of your snap decision, he was pulled from his thoughts however as a hand came down to rest upon his shoulder.

"Hey Capsicle, you enjoying yourself, old man?" Tony asked as he came to stand beside his friend now while snatching a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing server.

Muttering some half hearted compliment in reply about how well the event seemed to be going as his eyes continued to track your movements, Steve excused himself from Tony's presence however with talk of joining Clint and Sam at the pool table as a means of distracting himself from the irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. Irritation still clearly focused on you.

Feeling eyes continue to track you as now you handed off your tray of empty glasses to one of the many servers working the floor, glancing around to find Steve watching you while Sam chatted at him, you were never more thankful to your assistant Shona however when her voice spoke in your earpiece to tell you there was an issue in the kitchen needing your attention. Heading off there quickly then to discover that a spill on the floor had caused a server to slip and injure themselves, you quickly assessed the situation before dealing with each individual fallout. Making sure that the area was avoided while you checked out the injured party, a smile and a couple of "I'm fine" arguments later found you happy that the person in question was indeed well enough to return to work. Though you did switch up their assignment to give them an easier time as the night was really only just beginning. Then making sure yourself that the spill which caused the commotion was thoroughly cleaned up, you headed back upstairs to ensure everything there was running as smoothly as possible. But somehow that wasn't quite the case.

Taking some time to stop by the bar once you returned to the entertainment hall, you ordered a small whiskey to calm yourself after the kitchen debacle before turning around to come face to face once more with the former American patriot and his insufferable attitude. "I thought you weren't drinking tonight sweetheart. Or is it just me you refuse to have a drink with?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and you were actually relieved when the appearance of Tony Stark rescued you from coming up with some answer that didn’t sound like the telling off you wanted to direct his way. At least momentarily relieved anyway.

"Ari darling, is everything all right? F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted me to an issue in the kitchen."

Turning away from Steve now to face the host of the party, you plastered on your best professional smile and once again greeted the man of the hour. "Yes Mr. Stark. It was a very minor incident, no harm was done and things are once again running like clockwork. I hope you're happy with everything," you finished as Steve continued to observe you in a way you now felt mildly uncomfortable with.

"Yes darling, everything is delightful and I will definitely be sending my compliments onto your boss," he said, as like Steve his eyes traveled the length and breadth of your body uninvited. "By the way," he continued, "how many more times am I going to have to ask you to call me Tony?" he asked, reaching out now to accept his drink from the bartender while his fingers grazed your shoulder in the process.

"At least once more I'm sure Mr. Stark. Now if both of you gentlemen will excuse me, parties really don't run themselves I'm afraid," you answered politely before placing your empty glass back down on the bar and heading as far into the throng of people as you could possibly get, resulting in you being well out of earshot when their conversation started up.

"Damn Tony, even you're not beyond her indifference," Steve said as he too accepted a drink and stared after your retreating figure once more while his mind took him places his body was only aching to go. "What do you think her problem is?"

"I don't quite know Rogers but I gotta say, she has me intrigued," his former teammate answered as he too finished his glass while his eyes joined Steve's as you disappeared into the crowd. Now you just had to stay there and hope no more unwanted attention found its way towards you before this night was over. Not that your luck held up very long in that regard however.

Glad to be away now from the two heroes, who for some reason you couldn't explain creeped you the hell out, you were so busy fleeing their attention and looking over your notes on the event so far that you almost toppled over however when you walked straight into a decidedly solid yet muscular mass. Looking up from your clipboard then as two strong arms reached out to prevent you falling backwards onto your ass, your eyes now locked on those of the Sorcerer Supreme and for some unexplained reason, a sudden chill ran through you as he spoke.

"Easy there princess, wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," his silky voice said as he held you firmly while you tried to right yourself. Finally regaining your composure, you stepped out of his arms and looking around was thankful at least that no one seemed to have witnessed your mishap. "I hope you're enjoying yourself," Stephen continued as he brought you out of your thoughts and back instead to the reason you were once again so distracted.

"Sorry, what did you say?" you asked, giving the man your most professional look which had now been well practiced by this time of the evening.

"I asked if you were enjoying the party," he repeated as you looked behind you also to see two other Avengers watching this interaction now with the most curious of expressions clouding their features.

"I'll enjoy myself when this party is over and I've got the week off to recuperate," you replied before raising your hand to your earpiece as if to accept a call before walking away without another word. Standing in your wake then as you didn't even dignify him with an excuse, Stephen Strange now headed off towards the other side of the room as a dark corner beckoned to the three disgruntled heroes.

Continuing on with your duties then for the rest of the night while simultaneously rebuffing numerous more advances from the three heroes who couldn't seem to understand that not everyone wanted to worship at their feet, you were finally thankful at least when the last party guest left and one by one Earth's Mightiest Heroes began to retire to their various quarters. Exhausted beyond belief now at the night you had just put down, you promised yourself that the next time you spoke to Adriana you would tell her in no uncertain terms that you quit. Sure the money was great and you were damn good at your job, but the type of attention you had been fending off all night from people who were supposed to be the best humanity had to offer, told you that enough was enough. They were supposed to know better and, birthday or not, it was not in your contract to spend all your time massaging their clearly inflated egos. No, perhaps it was finally time instead to follow your passion and bury yourself among a mountain of library books like you had always dreamed and leave the event organizing to those better suited to handling famous people.

Tidying up the final few bits and pieces then while making sure the last remaining unnecessary lights were all shut off, you headed off along the corridor now and was so focused on reaching the elevator that you failed to notice the tinkling sound that signaled the danger you were in until the walls of the building began to shimmer and shift as if out of focus. But by then it was too late.

Watching in disbelief as the elevator that would take you to safety disappeared, a new sound behind you had you turning sharply instead to face the first avenger and one third of the bane of your existence throughout the night. "Now sweetheart, you're going to make us think you don't like us," Steve said while you looked around frantically for a means of escape as well as his other two teammates you could only assume the 'us' referred to.

Seeing no other people however and so turning back again towards what once had been your way out, a glowing crack in the wall before you gave you hope. Not much, but at least it was a start. Not daring then to glance back at the man behind you now as you quickly decided the unknown was better by far than what currently presented itself to you, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes and dove through it without caring what happened or where you ended up. At least until you opened your eyes in a somewhat similar place.

Running through this new corridor now as a shimmering orange portal appeared behind you, you didn't give it another thought however as you reached out and rushed through the first door you came across. Which proved to be another monumental mistake. One it seemed you had been making consistently since you had first agreed to supervise this cursed event. For that's where it seemed this night had been headed.

Resting your head and hands against the door now as you tried to control your ragged breathing and racing heartbeat, your blood ran cold however when a soft whisper reached your ears and confirmed that this destination too held a figure you were not much willing to entertain. "At last darling, I've been waiting."

Turning around slowly to face a now suited up Iron Man, your fingers reached for the handle of the door again as something about his demeanor told you that this was not the hero the world knew him to be, even if his behavior all night had not already convinced you. Rising from his position on a bed you were now just noticing, panic gripped you more fiercely however as the door that would have offered you salvation moments ago suddenly disappeared and thereby confirming that something sinister was definitely at play and you were at its mercy.

Moving around the now closed off box as the man before you stalked towards you like a jungle predator, a ray of hope arrived again as another shimmering portal appeared before you however. Deciding again that what you didn’t know had to be far more enticing than what Tony Stark and this scene seemed interested in, you dodged around Iron-Man, jumped through the portal and ran the length of yet another corridor until a familiar room told you that you had not actually left the Avengers Towers behind. Which gave you hope at least that your car was waiting here somewhere to whisk you away to safety. Hope that was soon to be shattered beyond repair leaving nothing but devastation in its wake however.

Slowing down as you entered the entertainment room which now showed no signs of ever having hosted the night’s party, you froze completely however at the sight of the Sorcerer Supreme standing by the floor to ceiling windows, bathed in the moonlight shining through from the world outside. Turning his head to gaze upon you now, the sinister glow in his once kind eyes alerted you to the possible danger he too posed and it sent a shiver down your spine. One of these men you realized now would have been enough to handle at the best of times, but three of them in their current guises was a damn nightmare. One you had to escape from.

Holding onto this feeling now and looking nervously behind you into the corridor you had just left, you began to slowly edge backwards towards the door when two more portals appeared and out walked the only other two men who gripped your heart as if death itself had come to visit. You were finally outnumbered. Standing now on either side of the man you suspected responsible for this whole freaky moving tower thing, a flapping at your back forced you to shift your focus from them however, as a six-eyed black bird appeared, blocked your escape and drained whatever hope you had left to you. Frightened beyond belief now at the terrifying images that held you in their grasp, you still had enough wits about you however to not just surrender without a fight and so diving beneath the creature's expansive wings you ran like hell from the three former heroes that seemed to have lost their minds while hoping they stayed as far away from you for as long as possible. Which it seems was similar to what they had in mind. For now at least.

Not daring to look behind you then as an intense flapping sounded in your ears, you kept running until suddenly, the floor gave way beneath you as yet another portal took out your feet and swallowed you whole. Tumbling endlessly now through what appeared to be the same corridor over and over and over again, as portal after portal appeared beneath you, fear gripped you like never before but you finally stopped screaming at least when the massive, scary bird reappeared and swooped in between you and yet another portal. Hanging on to this creature now for dear life as exhaustion finally started to creep over you, you wished you had fought harder however when it landed back in the entertainment room with the three heroes determined it seemed to turn your life into a living nightmare. For what else could they have planned?

Standing where you'd left them still as the creature now settled on its powerful legs so as to allow you to alight, yet another shock ran through you however as Doctor Strange waved his hand and the room around you disappeared to be replaced by what could only be described as a millionaire's representation of a caveman's room. Boasting nothing but a bar, coffee table and some couches spread out throughout the spacious structure, it was the thick stone walls and no visible exit however that really caught and held your attention. For the only light here now was all artificial and as a result it drew your eyes elsewhere.

Looking around as the guys made themselves comfortable now, you would have been totally devastated by the lack of escape options if it wasn't for the events which happened next however. Eyeing up every possible shadow for even the smallest hope of escape, this was quickly extinguished as Steve Rogers stood before you and encased you now in his powerful arms. Struggling against his grip then as he kissed you harshly, panic overtook you further as a coil of magical energy wound around your neck and snaked down your arms to completely secure your wrists. Bound now in the blond man's arms as Doctor Strange and Iron-Man approached you from either side, their close-up appearance simply confirmed what this whole night had already shown you … something wasn't quite right with these heroes.

Closing your eyes again against this realization as the room shimmered and changed around you once more, the enormous bed you had seen earlier appearing against one wall now, tucked neatly between four impressive stone pillars simply confirmed what your gut so far had screamed at you. It was definitely their plan to claim you and your senses just couldn’t seem to handle this truth as you tried your best to shut out what was happening all around you. But it didn’t last long unfortunately. Dressed in darker hues of black, red, blue, silver, orange and purple, time would soon reveal just how far these three men had fallen however and that revelation alone held all your attention now, at least until their voices broke through whatever panic their actions and altered appearances had triggered.

"Do you think you might have terrified her, Strange?" you heard Tony ask as your eyes remained shut to the world around you while you shrank back farther in fear as a snap of the sorcerer's fingers rid you of what remained of your tattered outfit before your bound and naked form was then moved away from the other two deranged monsters to the bed prepared specially for you.

"Of course he did, Tony. Look at that thing," Steve replied and tentatively opening one eyelid now as the sheets beneath you caressed your thoroughly exhausted and naked body, you shut it just as quickly however when the terrifying visage of the bird that brought you back to this nightmare filled your vision once more as it now settled on a perch above your head in a makeshift headboard that was by far the most horrifying scene you had witnessed thus far. Which is why you wished this terrifying experience would end there. But these beasts had plans that totally went against anything you now wished for.

Hoping against hope now that your tiny movements would go unnoticed, all hope was dashed like waves against the shore however when the final voice reached your ears as Doctor Strange snickered and ran his fingers now along your moistening cheek. "Well that's my bad I guess, but you didn't exactly live up to your end of the deal now did you?" he questioned as he snapped his fingers once more and magically shed all the clothes covering up his impressive physique while you watched in abject horror as his equally terrifying companions did the same. Not that their actions distracted you too long however as his words solidified in your brain and brought you back to some semblance of your usually rational self.

"Deal?" you questioned forcefully now as the three fully naked men focused solely on you then in a way that told you they couldn't wait to see what argument you planned to set forth. But you simply ignored them and continued on before your nerve and this sudden burst of anger faded to be replaced with fear and panic once more. "What deal? I never agreed to any of this. Why the hell would I?"

"Well now, that is true I'm afraid. You never did willingly agree to be ours,” Tony interrupted before allowing the evil Doctor Strange to clarify further. “But you are the one who signed the contract for the party while your boss was out of town. After that it was simply a matter of adding a few extra lines of text here and there and now you belong to us forever ... body and soul. Isn't magic wonderful?" he finished with an inhuman laugh then as he now looked over at his companions and winked at them before speaking once more while his fingers delicately wormed their way down your trembling body towards your weeping flower as his lips came to rest against the shell of your ear. "So which one of us do you want to be fucked by first, princess?”

And not waiting for a response however, all three of these fallen heroes descended towards the bed and spent the following hours claiming your body in every manner of depraved sex act that fueled their lust and forced you to accept everything they gave you despite the screams that tore forth from your lungs, shattered your soul and remade you into the perfect vessel from which they planned to start a whole new brood of dark heroes with you as their chosen queen.

#Ari's Birthday Fic #dark!Steve Rogers x Named Female Reader #dark!Iron-Man x Named Female Reader #dark!Stephen Strange x Named Female Reader #dark!avengers #dark!steve rogers #dark!tony stark #dark!stephen strange

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hyperfixiation-station · 1 year ago

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Choice, Choices, Choices Pt. 2

TW: Swearing, canon typical violence

Pairing: Reader x Graves Summary: Well your week off wasn't very productive, hopefully a really stressful, fate-of-the-world-is-in-your-hands mission will help clear your brain. As usual, I didn't beta read, so lmk if there are an errors :) Also sorry for the reupload, I accidentally deleted it whilst trying to edit something lmaooo.

When Price said a lot, he meant a lot.

In the time you had been gone, a new terrorist threat had popped up, a man named Hassan who somehow had gotten ahold of American missiles. You didn’t even have time to unpack before Price was shipping you off to Mexico to help Soap and Ghost infiltrate a cartel to find the location of said missing missiles. It seems the talk with Graves will have to wait.

You get no rest on the flight to Mexico. Instead you spend the entire time focusing on your and Grave’s relationship. Maybe it’s the threat of imminent annihilation, or maybe it’s the fact that you are going to be seeing him soon, but whatever it is, you were thinking more clearly than you have all week.

Graves was a man of authority, and you had recognized it from the moment you had met him. He took what he wanted, when he wanted, and made sure everyone knew he was the top dog. In your relationship he always had the last say, always chose the restaurant, always chose the movie. And for the most part, you didn’t mind, enjoying the feeling of not having to be in control for once when all you did all day long was make choices that could mean life or death.

He had this belief that he could do no wrong, and was smug and uptight and sometimes even cruel about it.

And yet there was something…alluring about him. Some magnetic charm that drew you in every time you wanted to take a step back. He didn’t even have to try, hell, he had stopped putting effort into the relationship years ago, and yet you still found him almost irresistible.

You weren’t stupid, you knew what there were issues in the way your relationship worked, but you loved him, and he…loved you too. It wasn’t until Ghost stepped fully into the picture that you realized that may-

“Y/N!” You flinch, your eyes coming up to meet your pilots as his voice snaps you out of your musings.

“You okay in there? I’ve been yelling at you for at least a minute.” He says over the headset, “Anyways we’re about to land, so get ready.” You nod, shouldering your pack and making sure your vest is strapped correctly.

5 minutes later, the helo begins its choppy descent. The second it touches down you are ushered off, ducking under the blades in an odd crab run as you make your way to where Soap, Ghost, and 2 strangers stand to the side. The pilot takes off before you've even cleared the LZ.

“Good ta’ see yer no’ dead lassie.” Soap grin, clasping your shoulder, “Ah trust Price has briefed ye?”

“Aye.” You nod, “Though he didn’t mention these two. Who are they?”

“These are th’ Los Vaqueros.” Soap says giddy, “Means th’ cowboys”

“My name is Alejandro.” The taller one on the left tells you.

“Mine’s Rodolfo, tho y’ can call me Rudy.” The one on the right says moments later.

“Nice to meet you.” You incline your head, avoiding Ghost’s searching gaze, “I take it you’re the ones leading us through this, uh…whatever we’re about to do?”

“Aye.” Alejandro turns and begins walking, everyone else falling in line behind him, “Soap here is infiltrating Las Almas, we are looking for El Sin Nombre. We believe he knows the location of the missiles Hassan has stolen.”

You climb into the back of a truck, consciously avoiding sitting next to Ghost. The drive is tense, the silence only occasionally broken by questions from Alejandro and Soap. The truck comes to a stop, and you all pile out, getting Soap outfitted for his ‘Day in the life of a cartel member’ extravaganza.

“Y/n!” You spin around, seeing Graves walking towards you, “How was your week off?”

“It was good. Did a lot of…thinking.”

“Wonderful.” He says, his eyes already looking past you. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek and moves past, going to speak with his Shadows. You sigh internally, moving over to Soap and Ghost.

“How wis yer week off?” Soap asks as a Shadow helps fit his comms. He’s grinning, his blue eyes almost glowing in the dark, but you can see the faint lines of fear in his expression.

“It was since. Did a lot of thinking, I guess.” Ghost shifts, a subtle movement you notice out of the corner of your eye. Your face flushes, and you’re grateful it’s dark out so he can’t see.

“Let's roll!” Alejandro calls. Soap nods, and you follow him and Ghost back to the truck. This drive is tense for a whole other reason, everyone thinking about all the ways this could go wrong.

You get to the compound, and take your spot on a ridge with Ghost. No words are exchanged, but you know him well enough by now to tell he is worried about you. If Soap’s life, and the lives of millions of Americans, weren’t at risk, you would be grateful for this mission delaying the inevitable conversation you have to have.

You both get into position, sniper rifles trained on the building. You wince as Soap is manhandled, a deep pit of fear in your stomach once he disappears from your view.

Now all that's left is to sit and wait.

He emerges victorious, much to yours and Ghost’s relief. He brings with him El Sin Nombre, who apparently is actually a woman, and an old friend of Alejandros. You could see yourself liking her, if she hadn’t sold missiles to terrorists.

She is feisty, smart, and cunning. She keeps her mouth shut, refusing to volunteer the location of the 2nd missile, instead goading Alejandro into a frenzy. You watch, eyes narrowed in distaste, as Graves tries to make a deal with her. Not for the first time, you judge his ability to make decisions.

But she does give you all the missile location. In what feels like a matter of moments, you find yourself on a boat, heading through stormy waves towards an oil rig off the Gulf of Mexico. Grave’s Shadows launch an attack, only for Ghost to find that the missile not only has entered pre-launch phase, but wasn’t even on the oil rig to begin with. Instead, you find it on the deck of a ship, primed and ready to fire. You, Graves, Soap, and Ghost file onto the cargo ship, where you find that there is no way to disarm the missile.

Your heart sinks, until Shepard has the great idea to turn the missile on the oil rig. Alejadro and the Shadow Company clear out, and Soap hacks in and resets the missile's trajectory. The burning ball of flame is a beautiful sight to see, in your opinion.

“Gold Eagle Actual, Shadow-1. Good hit. Good hit. Missile and rig destroyed.” Graves crows, a grin lighting up his face. He grasps Soaps shoulder, and you watch him mouth a quiet Good work, his voice too quiet to hear over the noise of the shadows and everyone celebrating.

Without thinking, you press a kiss to Ghost’s masked cheek, the euphoria of victory clouding your senses. Soap steps in to give Ghost a moment to recover, and gives you a side hug, slapping you on the back a little too hard for your liking. You don’t notice Graves eyes on you, narrowing with your every action.

The ride back is still tense, the tension between you and Ghost so thick you can almost taste it. Luckily Soap either can’t sense it, or just is just ignoring it, the Scotsman happily chattering away as the sinking feeling in your heart grows and grows.

The crisis is over, and once you get back you won’t be able to put off your conversation with Graves any longer.

It’s still raining when you get back to the Los Vaquero’s base. The truck comes to a stop outside the gates, and you slide out of the truck after Ghost, confused and a bit wary.

“What’s this?” You hear Alejadro’s voice from the other side of the truck.

“This is the immediate future.” You stop short, Grave’s voice making your blood run cold, “Step away from the gate.” No. There is no way.

“You’re outta line Graves.” You blink, hard, realizing you had zoned out for a moment. You force your feet to move again, rounding the truck, stiffening as a barrel is pressed into your spine.

“Hey!” Grave’s voice echoes in your ears, “Let her go. She’s with us.” You inhale sharply, looking up at him in shock. Soap looks at you in betrayal, taking half a step towards you before the Shadows are on him as well.

“Don't do that. Don't... do that. No one needs to get hurt here.” Graves says, eyes narrowed.

“Are you threatening us?” You can hear the betrayal in his voice as well, though he does his best to hide it. You want to look at him, try and communicate that you have no part in this, but your mind is still reeling, and you’re unable to draw your wide eyes away from Grave’s face.

“Soldier, I don't make threats. I make guarantees. So, let's not do this.” The animosity in Graves' voice surprises you.

“I’m calling Shepard.” Soap turns, hand reaching for his radio.

“General Shepard sends his regards.” Graves' grin is predatory, and you have no doubt he’s enjoying this, “He told me you wouldn’t take this well.”

“He knows about this?” Ghost’s eyes are dark, his body tense and ready to spring.

“He's put me in command of this operation from here on out. So, y'all need to stand down. It's time to let the pros finish this.” You watch Graves still, eyes trained on his face, your brain numb with shock. Shock and…disgust.

“And why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of a negotiation?” Graves continues, “It's not. I've got my orders and now you have yours.”

“And who the fuck do you think you are, cabron? My men are inside!”

“I'm afraid not.” Graves pauses, meeting your eyes with a disgusting grin, “Your men have been... detained.”

“Cabron!” For the first time, you manage to tear your eyes away from Graves, your gaze falling on Alejandro as he launches himself towards your boyfriend only to be beaten down and restrained by his Shadows.

“Graves, what th’ fuck?” Your eyes dart to Soap as he lunges at the Shadow next to him, holding him hostage. You let out a small cry as Graves and his men open fire. You duck behind the truck, watching as Ghost elbows the Shadow behind him before stabbing another one in the neck, quickly ripping the blade back out and hurling it at another Shadow before disappearing into the dark.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth as you watch Graves slam the butt of his gun into Alejandro’s head, dropping him. You stare at Graves in shock, unable to move as your mind tries to process what's happening.

Soap yells in pain, snapping you from your reverie as you spin to look at him. He’s on the ground, the Shadow he had taken laying dead on top of him.

“Go, Johnny! Get out of there!” Ghost yells from somewhere behind you “Soap, Go!” You watch as Soap heaves himself up and throws himself over the barrier, disappearing from your view. You slide down the truck, sinking to the ground as your legs give out, your entire body shaking.

Graves' actions start to sink in, and gods does his betrayal hurt. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, worse than the time you broke your arm, worse than the time you got shot in the thigh, worse than any wound you had ever received. It’s like a physical pain, your heart feeling as though it’s been ripped from your chest. Tears well in your eyes, your fingers digging into your palms in an effort to stop your tears.

You don’t know how long you sit in the rain, but it’s enough time for you to be completely soaked head to toe. You are surrounded by blood and bodies, and your mind reels as you survey the scene. Alejandro is gone, you’re not sure when he was taken away. Soaps rifle is still laying in the street, a very damming pool of blood underneath and around it. With the amount of blood he lost, you're surprised he's not dead. Oh gods he better not be dead.

“Y/n?” Graves' voice breaks the fog in your brain, “Darling? Are you alright? I know this was...a bit of a surprise…but I’m sure you understand.”

“Graves…”

To be continued.

Notes: Sorry for how long this took!!! But it's here now! Hopefully Pt. 3 won't take me another thousand years. Anyways I hope you enjoy, and sorry if this is not the direction you wanted it to go :/ Tags: @redhoodxsupergirl @infpt-zylith @scarletdfox

#cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #angst #cod x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #no beta we die like men #cod #john soap mactavish #graves x reader #phillip graves #alejandro vargas #haha I finally updated #sorry for how long it took #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare

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levithestripper · 3 days ago

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After Hours

summary:

He raises an eyebrow at Tozer, toeing off his dress shoes, and placing them in the wooden shoe rack beside the entrance. “You think I adore you, Solomon?” Tozer smirks, turning his head to look at him. Marshmallow gives Edward the same expression. “Of course.”

Already having a long school day, English teacher Edward has a lot to do after his students go home for the day, leaving Error Campus empty. Luckily, P.E. teacher Solomon is there to make his long day go by in the blink of an eye.

warnings: they're all high school teachers, it's all just a bunch of fluff and relationship drama.

length: 5.1k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

a/n: hello terror fandom :) this is a fill for the SOLITTLE NATION’S VALENTINE’S DAY exTRAVAGANZA prompt: big spoon! tozer!!!!

this can be read as a standalone work since i plan on writing a whole AU around solittle teachers! i want to thank everyone in the solittle discord server for helping me with this and for their ideas and inspiration :) ily

“Yes, that’s it!” Coach Tozer cheered, clapping his gloved hands together happily. Even with the nippy February air, Tozer still donned his traditional coaching outfit: high-cut red dolphin shorts, a tight white t-shirt, a blue windbreaker, and his coaching whistle. Coach Hartnell stood beside him with arms crossed over his chest, wearing the same outfit as Tozer. Today’s after-school training consisted of practicing passing down the pitch and taking goal shots. Over the past seven months, the team has come together magnificently, learning to trust each other and truly play as one unit rather than eleven parts. “Victoria, don’t look down at your feet! Look where you’re going, the ball will follow you there!”

After twenty more minutes of drills, Coach Tozer blew his whistle and dismissed the girls to hit the showers. He and Hartnell bid their farewells to the other assistant coach, William Heather, and the rest of the coaching staff as they left the pitch together, returning to the head coach’s office.

“The girls did well today, don’t you think?” Tom asked, sitting down in the comfy guest chair in Tozer’s office. The walls were plastered with motivational posters featuring various sports, but it was clear Tozer’s favorites were baseball and rugby; framed photos of his neighborhood baseball team and the rugby team he was on in university hanging on the walls. On his desk was another framed photo, this time of Tozer and his niece, Maisie. Maisie looks like a mini version of her uncle, with dirty blonde wavy hair and the cutest button nose anyone has ever seen. Tozer’s holding her on his hip in the photo, and they’re both covered in dirt, twigs in their hair, and huge, toothy grins across their faces.

Tozer nods, sitting behind his desk with a groan, pulling his gloves off. “They’ve certainly improved since coming back from holiday. They still need to improve their passing drills, or else we’ll never make it to the playoffs this season.” Tom nods thoughtfully, silently agreeing. “We should extend training hours to 6:30 until the season starts. Get in as much practice as we can. More time in the weight room, as well.”

Hartnell nods again, wrapping his arms around the throw pillow in his lap. “Good idea, Coach. Some of the reserves could definitely use some practice time, and time in the weight room will do everyone good. Us, too. I’ve noticed the team works better when we work out with them.”

“Weight room tomorrow, then, an’ we tell em’ about the training time change after?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Tom smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He stood and stretched, groaning dramatically. “Am I free to go, Coach?”

Tozer mirrors Tom’s expression, “Free to go, Coach.” He mock salutes Tom, which Tom returns happily. He turns on his heel to leave, closing the door behind him. Tozer runs his hands up his face and through his hair, leaning back in his plush, navy blue desk chair. He turns on his computer with the toe of his shoe, the monitor blaring to life with the image of the school-mandated desktop, a blue and white pattern with the logo in the bottom right corner. Pulling up his emails, Tozer got to work at answering the dozens of emails he was ignoring for the past week.

After about an hour or so of solid working, Tozer closes the tab with a satisfied sigh, leaning all the way back in his chair again. Gathering his things and shoving them in his black cross-body bag, Tozer slings it across his shoulder and shuts the lights, leaving his office and the sports department behind him. He lifts the hood of his windbreaker and makes his way down the hallways of the school, heading towards the English department. The school is empty, except for the various club activities in classrooms and teachers staying late to work on lesson plans. Many of the teachers have their doors decorated for Valentine’s Day, pink wrapping paper and giant red and violet paper hearts everywhere Tozer looks.

Tozer sidles up to one door in particular, grinning cheekily. This door was decorated just like the others, but minimally so. It’s wrapped with sky blue colored paper instead of pink, and it’s clear that the teacher behind it had their students help them with it. The full design was that of the Pixar movie Up , but instead of balloons, the house was lifted afloat by cute little student-cut hearts. Rapping his knuckles against the window cutout, Tozer opened the door without waiting for an answer from who was inside.

The man looked away from his monitor, a smile spreading across his face. “Solomon!”

“Hey, Neddy, you ready to go?” Solomon asks, closing the door behind him, and leans on the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, muscles flexing against his shirt.

Edward’s classroom was decked out with literature posters and quotes, motivational sayings, posters about grammar, and parts of speech. Instead of using the harsh, overhead fluorescent lights, Edward has fairy lights hanging from the ceiling tiles and a warm-toned lamp in two corners of the room, giving the room a cozy atmosphere. Also hanging from the ceiling are paper crafts his students have made him over the school year, attached with binder clips. Edward’s desk is mostly free of clutter, a stark opposite of Tozer’s. He has a few framed photos of him and his friends that double as colleagues, John and George, and one of his cat, Marshmallow, a toasted Siamese who causes chaos wherever she goes.

“Give me a few minutes, will you? I want to finish this section of my lesson plan for next week. And after that, Elizabeth is visiting to help me grade papers.”

Tozer nods and takes a seat at a desk closest to Edward’s. “That girl sure seems to like you; can’t say I blame her.” Edward rolls his eyes at him, making Tozer snicker. “Saw your door. Kids help you with it?”

Edward nods, eyes never leaving his monitor screen. “Fitzjames knows how to raise a good kid, I enjoy her company,” he hums, glancing back at Tozer, only to whip his head back around when he catches Tozer staring. “Some of my honors students saw I still had a bare door and offered to decorate it for me during their free period.” Tozer rakes his eyes up and down Edward’s slender back. He wore a handsome dark blue cable-knit sweater with dark brown dress slacks, a matching brown leather belt, and black dress shoes. His glasses sat in the mess of dark brown hair on his head, and Tozer was sure the frames were tangled in the dark locks by now.

“You look nice, Neddy.” Tozer thinks Edward looks nice every day, but that’s not the point. He sits with his chin in his hand, admiring Edward as he works.

“Thank you, Sol,” Edward cranes his head to look at Tozer’s outfit. His face flushes slightly. “You look good, too. But isn’t it too cold out to only be wearing shorts?”

“I don’t know, you want me to take the rest’a my clothes off and find out?” He teases, giggling when Edward glares at him. Tozer changes the subject, shelving the conversation for later. “How were classes?”

“Good; most of my problem students were in ALE. We finished our unit on Sula today, so we’ll have the unit test on Friday.” Edward spins around in his chair to face Solomon. “I should’ve finished this lesson plan months ago, but someone has been distracting me recently.”

Tozer grins toothily. “Oh yeah? An’ who would that be?”

Edward raises an eyebrow at him, giving Tozer a knowing look. “Solomon.”

“Yes, Ned?” he asks coyly.

Edward pretends to be cross with him, but Tozer can see right through his facade. “Your helper come ‘round yet today?”

He glances at his watch. If Tozer didn’t know him, it would be easy to assume the watch was over two hundred dollars, but in reality, it was barely over fifty. The watch face was a shiny obsidian adorned with silver markings, a gold case surrounding it, and a brown leather strap. “She should be here right about—”

A knock at the door interrupts Edward.

“Come on in!” Edward calls out, a soft smile replacing the glare he had been giving Tozer.

The door swings open to reveal a little girl, who looks to be about six to seven years old. She is wearing a floral-patterned shirt with a dark brown background, cute, cozy-looking white pants that cut off at the ankle, and a matching pair of cream-colored trainers. She carries with her a fuzzy plush chicken purse, the bag clearly filled to the brim with her essential supplies. Behind her stood a man in his early thirties, with dark, curly hair, thick mutton chops, and kind eyes. He also wore a cable knit sweater, but his was dark green and over a white dress shirt, the collar popping out from beneath the collar of the sweater, paired with black dress pants and shoes.

The girl smiles widely, rushing into the room, and leaving her friend in the dust. “Mr. Little! I’ve come ready today! I brought my own stickers for us to use!”

Edward grins, something he was still unused to doing while at work. “Ah, Elizabeth! Right on time.” He pushes his hair out from behind his desk so she can run up to him and crawl into his lap. Making herself comfortable, Elizabeth sits with her back to Edward’s chest and dumps out the contents of her chicken purse onto his desk.

“You forgetting to greet someone?” Edward asks gently, nodding towards Solomon.

“Oh, right! Hi, Mr. Tozer!”

Solomon happily waves at her. “Hey, Lizzy. You havin’ a good day?”

She nods, enthusiastically shaking her head up and down with her eyes closed. “Mhm! Mr. Goodsir had to work most of the day, but we had lunch together and he helped me with some of my homework and then we drew pictures.”

Edward looks over at Mr. Harry Goodsir, who is leaning on the painted metal doorframe. “Sounds like you two had fun, huh, Mr. Goodsir?”

“Oh, yes. I always have a good time with Miss Elizabeth here, don’t we?” Elizabeth nods again. “How was your day, Edward, Solomon? Anything I can assist with?” As the school’s main guidance counselor, Harry always makes himself available to the teachers in addition to the services he already provides for the students.

Tozer shakes his head no. “Nah, we’re good, Harry. Thank you, though.”

“Well, you know where to find me if you do,” Harry says with a sweet smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Door open or closed?”

“Open,” Edward replies, “Thank you, Harry. Oh, are you going to the faculty dinner later this week?”

“No, Silna and I have plans for a movie date and dinner that night. However, do tell me if anything interesting happens!”

Tozer chuckles, but Edward is the one to respond, trying to stifle his own amusement. “Of course, Harry, you’ll be the first to know about anything juicy. John and Henry said they’re goin’ as well, so you might hear the gossip from them first.”

“Oh, good!” Harry smiles, pushing off the doorframe. “Well, don’t let me keep you. See you tomorrow, Elizabeth?”

She nods, stopping organizing her craft supplies to wave goodbye. “Bye, Mr. Goodsir! See you tomorrow!” Elizabeth set up her stuff next to Edward in nice, neat piles. She has her stickers on one side, organized by show, and her markers, gel, and glitter pens on the other side of the papers to be graded.

“So, Elizabeth, what stickers did you bring for us to use?” Edward asks, overlooking everything on his desk. Edward prefers a clean, orderly desk, but he makes an exception for her.

Elizabeth turns around in his lap to look at him, legs lying across his. “Daddy bought me new ones, so we can’t use them all. I have My Little Pony, Strawberry Shortcake, and puppies! The My Little Pony ones are new, so we can only use the ones I say we can.” Tozer stifles a chuckle.

“Alright, your stickers, your rules.” He smiles, picking up the first of many essays to read through. “When I finish reading through one, I’ll tell you the numbers and words to write, and then you can put on a sticker.”

She wiggles further into his side so she can look at the words she can’t read yet with him. “Do you want a sticker too, Mr. Tozer?”

Solomon smiles and sits up straight so Elizabeth can reach him without getting off Edward’s lap. “I’d love a Strawberry Shortcake one.”

She nods and looks over her sticker sheets, hemming and hawing over which sticker he’d like best, deciding that Pupcake is the best choice. “Here!” Elizabeth stretches her arm out, the sticker on the tip of her finger. “You get Pupcake!”

“Thank you, Lizzy. Got anywhere special you want me to put it?”

She thinks for a moment before shaking her head no. “It’s for you, so you get to put it where you like.”

“How benevolent of you, my Queen,” Solomon teases, dramatically bowing in his seat, which makes Elizabeth erupt in a fit of giggles. Digging out his wallet, Tozer gently sticks it to the clear plastic guarding his ID card. He turns it around to show her and Edward. “Here, Mr. Little, look,” he says with a subtle smirk. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

Edward does his best to suppress his blush, but it doesn’t work. There’s something about Solomon calling him by his last name and title that makes his heart thrum and tingle, but he doesn’t think too hard about it for fear of what he might find out about himself. If Solomon notices his flustered state, he doesn’t mention it. “It looks perfect there, don’t you think, Elizabeth?” he deflects the attention to her instead, knowing she’d appreciate it.

“Mhm!” Elizabeth nods. “Do you want one in your wallet, Mr. Little?”

Tozer pipes up again, agreeing with a bigger smirk this time. “Yeah, Mr. Little; you should have one too, so we can match!”

He grows even more flustered at the prospect. “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I have space in my wallet for one.”

Elizabeth huffs, but not in a bratty way. “If you don’t have space for a sticker, I think you need a new one.”

Tozer nods. “Lizzy’s right, Mr. Little. Go on an’ give her your wallet, she’ll find one that fits your teeny wallet,” he teases, and he and Elizabeth both giggle.

Edward squints at him, but caves, leaning forward to dig his wallet out of his back pocket, and handing it to Elizabeth. She quickly finds a sticker, returning it to Edward with a smile. “You get Rarity!”

“Why Rarity?” he asks, looking over the sticker now permanently stuck to his ID case. Rarity is on her two back hooves, the front ones in the air, with a happy expression across her features. From what he’s seen of the show—sometimes Elizabeth brings her tablet with her—the sticker seems to be drawn in a different art style than usual. Edward finds that he doesn’t hate it.

“Well, she’s kind, and generous, and likes fashion; you’re just like her! Your room looks like she made it, and I think you’d be friends,” Elizabeth hums, turning on his lap slightly so she can use the desk. “Oh! And you’re both pretty!”

The redness that just barely dusted Edward’s cheeks before is now at a roiling boil, turning his whole face red. It doesn’t matter who compliments him—Elizabeth or otherwise—Edward will turn red as a strawberry. It could be platonic or romantic, it doesn’t matter. “Pretty?”

It is Solomon who answers. “You’re very pretty, Edward. Almost like a girl. Right, Lizzy?” Edward’s blush worsens, spreading into his mutton chops and down his neck.

“Mhm! Rarity would agree, too. She’d like how he dresses. I don’t think she’d like how you dress, though, Mr. Tozer.”

Solomon waves away her words. “Nah, don’t worry about it, doesn’t bother me any. Which pony do you think would like me, Lizzy?”

“Hmm, Rainbow Dash. She’s strong and athletic, like you!”

He grins, reaching out to fist-bump her, which she reciprocates. “Heck yeah!” Solomon censors his cheers, but the enthusiasm behind it stays the same.

Edward, desperate for a change of topic, glances at the clock. “Alright, Elizabeth, if you still want to help me grade papers, we’ve got to start now.”

“Oh, right! I still want to help!”

He rolls his chair close to the lip of his desk and gets to work, reading through the first essay.

Before they know it, two hours pass within the blink of an eye, and suddenly all of Edward’s papers are graded with an assortment of stickers and a glittery “Good Job!!” written on them. At some point, Elizabeth drew a glittery pink and purple heart on Edward’s forearm. Tozer’s asleep, his arms crossed over his chest and his feet up on the corner of Edward’s desk—much to Edward’s dismay—but he doesn’t wake him, finding his sleeping form too adorable to disturb.

The clock hands hit five o’clock, and there’s a knock on the open door. Edward looks over to see Vice Principal James Fitzjames, with a cross-body bag slung on his shoulder, a pink sparkly backpack on the other, and a puffy winter jacket draped over his arm. He has on an expensive long blue coat and a lighter blue scarf, all ready to face the chilly February air. “Ah, Mr. Tozer, I didn’t expect to see you here. Please, tell him I said hello when he wakes up, will you, Mr. Little?”

“Of course.”

James smiles at Elizabeth, watching her clean up her art supplies. “Ready to go, darling?”

“Yep!” She twists around to wrap her small arms around Edward’s middle, hugging him tight, the side of her head pressed against the soft fabric on his chest. “I had fun today, Mr. Little! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Edward hugs her back, squeezing her gently. “I had fun too, Elizabeth. I look forward to tomorrow!”

Elizabeth hops off his lap and quickly hugs Solomon’s sleeping form before joining her dad in the hallway. James hands Elizabeth her coat and waves goodbye to Edward, closing the door behind them as they leave.

Edward turns his chair so he’s facing Solomon. His elbow rests on his desk, hand making a fist, smushing his cheek against his knuckles, admiring his—what is Solomon to Edward, exactly?

His colleague. His friend.

Boyfriend?

No. Solomon couldn’t be into him like that, wouldn’t be into him like that. What could Edward offer a guy as amazing as Solomon? Solomon has everything; he’s funny, talented, smart, and can carry a conversation about literally anything, no matter the topic, and somehow make it interesting. And his body? Not that Edward actively looks at Tozer’s body, mind you. It’s not his fault the man refuses to wear shirts that fit. Solomon can get anyone he wants, so why would he ever want someone with as little to offer?

Edward watches Solomon’s chest rise and fall gently. His mind wanders, thinking about what it’d be like to wake up next to him. Would Solomon’s hair be a rat’s nest in the morning? Would he snore? Is he a light sleeper, or a heavy one? Does he talk in his sleep? Does he sleep late, or would he prefer to wake up early? Edward snaps out of it, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

Glancing at his watch, Edward stands and stretches, gathering his things into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. Pushing in his chair, Edward quietly stands beside Solomon, gently shaking him awake. “Wake up, Mr. Tozer. Time to go.”

Solomon smirks, his eyes still closed. “It’s ‘Mr. Tozer’ now, is it? Thought we’d’ve dropped the formalities by now, Mr. Little. ” His hands rest folded across his stomach. “Why don’t you call me Solomon, hm? You can do that, can’t you?”

Edward pauses, gnawing on his bottom lip. “ Solomon. It’s time to go.”

He opens his eyes, his smirk still resting happily across his face. “There you go. You wanna go get dinner?” Tozer stands without pushing his chair in, adjusting his shorts, which had ridden up on him in his sleep.

“I’d like that very much,” Edward replies, walking out of his classroom with him, shutting the light, and pulling the door closed behind them, “It’s your turn to choose, Solomon,” he says, his voice still hesitant, as if Tozer would yell at him for using his first name, regardless that he asked him to.

Tozer walks with his hands in his jacket pockets. “Do you feel like Mexican food? I’d kill for a burrito right now.”

“Sure; you know I’m always up for fajitas.” Edward offers him a sweet smile, his eyes crinkling endearingly. “Walk?”

Tozer nods, holding out his hand. Edward looks at him with a confused expression, almost hiding the red dusting of blush across his cheeks. He stops in his tracks for a moment before taking Solomon’s hand, and lacing their fingers together. Solomon smiles at him, his eyes shining. “You know, I was offering to hold your bag for you.”

He flushes a bright red, stuttering. “Oh, uhm—”

“It’s okay,” Solomon chuckles, “I prefer this.” He squeezes Edward’s hand, which Edward reciprocates.

Dinner went by faster than Edward could snap his fingers. They had been seated in a deep booth in their own corner of the restaurant. They shared a bowl of chips and salsa—meaning Solomon ate most of it. Their food came quickly and Ned ate to the sound of Solomon talking about his day, gesturing wildly with his hands, burrito sauce on the corner of his mouth. Ned sat and listened with a happy smile, folding up his fajitas so nothing spilled.

The walk home—no, to Edward’s flat—was a pleasant one, even if it was a chilly night in February. Edward doesn’t feel it, but Solomon mentions his pinkened face, which only makes it pinker. Tozer lets himself into Edward’s flat, fishing the key out from his pocket, finding it beside his own flat key on his keyring. They’re instantly greeted by Marshmallow, a sweet Siamese junior cat—or Miss Marsha, as Tozer likes to call her—meowing insistently at the doorstep.

The front door opens directly into the living room, the foyer essentially nonexistent. The living room is cozy, the walls painted a dark green color. Dark hardwood floors run throughout the flat, providing a connecting string throughout the home. The couch is a lighter shade of green than the walls, but as far as green goes, it’s still rather dark, paired with a leather ottoman shaped like a turtle. A TV sits on top of a dark wood-stained entertainment center, surrounded by trinkets, just like the bookshelves on either side of it. Edward has fancy throw pillows embroidered with forest scenes he bought at a craft fair with Tozer one weekend sitting on either side of the couch and a crocheted blanket thrown over the back. There’s a side table beside the sofa with crocheted sun and moon coasters and a record player, with vinyl still sitting under the needle from this morning. Aesthetically pleasing cat trees against the wall and hanging baskets on the windowsill ensure Marshmallow is happy, with the added bonus of giving Toulouse new things to do when he visits with Solomon.

“Hi, Miss Marsha! Awww, did you miss us, baby?” Solomon coos, dropping his things on the nearest table so he can open his arms for Marshmallow to jump into. “Oh, I know, it’s so terrible being left alone all day.”

Edward grins and shakes his head, chuckling. “Fuzzy little traitor.”

“Oh, don’t be mad at her, Neddy, can’t fault her for adoring me. Like daughter, like father.”

He raises an eyebrow at Tozer, toeing off his dress shoes, and placing them in the wooden shoe rack beside the entrance. “You think I adore you, Solomon?”

Tozer smirks, turning his head to look at him. Marshmallow gives Edward the same expression. “Of course.”

“Now what gives you that impression?”

Tozer motions next to the bookshelf filled with tchotchkes, pointing to multiple framed photos of the two of them hanging beside it on the wall. There are photos of them from Halloween, Christmas, and other days between then and now. Some of them are with Marshmallow and Solomon’s orange idiot, Toulouse, looking like a proper family you’d see on TV.

Edward huffs, clearly proven incorrect. “Okay, you got me there.”

Marshmallow hops out of Solomon’s arms, meowing happily as she trots into the kitchen, demanding to be fed. Edward follows behind her obediently, eager to get away from Tozer’s piercing eyes. He feels like Tozer is looking directly through his clothes and into his soul, so he busies himself with attending to Miss Marsha to distract himself from it.

Edward’s kitchen is small, but not cramped. Old, light-stained wooden cabinets paired well with the dark countertops. Light green gingham wallpaper frames the window above the sink and below the cupboards instead of a traditional backsplash. The wood around the window is painted a darker shade of green, to match the dark color of the walls in the living room and hallways. There’s a small wooden table in the corner stained darker than the cabinets, complete with matching chairs. Same with everything in his flat, Edward keeps his table tidy, save for the table runner and place settings. His counters are slightly messier than he’d like, but with limited storage, things have made themselves at home on his counter. Part of that is due to Solomon’s habit of dropping things where he is and leaving them there, but Edward is endeared by it, so he doesn’t mind as much as he would if it were someone else. He likes the evidence of Solomon in his home, even if Solomon isn’t physically there.

Behind him, Solomon places his shoes next to Edward’s and hangs his jacket up on the coat rack. He turns the TV on, flipping through different channels before turning it off again in favor of the VHS player instead. “What movie d’you wanna watch?” he calls out, rummaging through the various discs and tape cases.

“Uhh, something funny, please!” Edward calls back as he washes his hands. “Do you want anything to snack on?” From the kitchen, he walks down the hallway to his bedroom, quickly shedding his work clothes for a comfy pajama set. He picks the set he knows Solomon likes, a light baby blue shirt, and matching fuzzy pants with Snoopy on them. He pulls another set out of his dresser for Solomon, a pink shirt with fuzzy red flannel pants.

“No, I’m good! Still full from dinner. You good with The Princess Bride? Or would you rather watch Stardust?”

Edward hums, returning to the living room with Marshmallow on his shoulder like a bird, tossing the pajamas at him. “We just saw The Princess Bride, didn’t we?” Tozer easily catches the clothes and strips right there in Edward’s living room without care if Edward sees him or not. He leaves his work clothes in a pile in the corner to be dealt with later. Tozer has flipped the lights off, leaving only a warm-toned lamp in the corner of the room on, the stained glass shade casting soft light on the walls. The fairy lights on the bookshelves twinkle prettily in the dark.

Tozer returns the Princess Bride’s VHS case to the shelf it came from and opens Stardust, pushing it into the player. He reaches out to pet Miss Marsha as she passes, and she meows, purring appreciatively. “Stardust it is, then.” Solomon shamelessly looks Edward up and down. He looks like the definition of comfort, soft pajamas, a cat on his shoulders, soft brown eyes with hair to match. “You look adorable, Neddy,” he coos, a sweet smile on his very obviously lovesick face.

“Oh… thank you,” Edward blushes furiously, but luckily the low lighting obscures it from view. Edward sits on the right side of the couch—his spot—and Solomon returns to sit beside him, his arms sliding around Edward’s shoulders, pulling him in close. Edward lets himself be pulled into Solomon’s warm embrace, not giving a second thought to how his head naturally went to rest on Solomon’s shoulder. Miss Marsha makes herself at home on the indent on the top of the back cushions, curling up into a cute donut shape, her tail just beneath her nose. The opening credits of the movie start, and Miss Marsha is purring away happily behind them, sending soothing vibrations throughout the couch.

Not even half an hour into the movie, Edward is fighting to keep his eyes open. If Solomon took notice, he didn’t make it known. Determined to try and finish the movie, Edward makes it about halfway before he falls asleep, drooling on Solomon’s shoulder.

Tozer pauses the tape and turns off the television. Smiling, Solomon slides down on the couch a smidge, allowing Edward to sink into the warmth of his chest. His hair is ruffled, the dark locks messy, the sight pulling at Solomon’s heartstrings. Gently holding Edward still, Solomon brings his legs up and lays down behind him, his left arm beneath Edward’s head and his right draping over his thin waist, pulling his hips flush with his. Solomon’s hand sneaks under Edward’s shirt, half his fingers under his shirt, and half beneath the waistband of his pajamas. Solomon shoves his face in the crook of Edward’s neck and breathes in deeply, his nose filling with the sweet scent of Edward’s cologne. Their legs tangle together, Solomon’s sockless foot worming its way up Edward’s pant leg.

The sun has set long ago, meaning it’s well past both their bedtimes. Marshmallow repositions herself in the crook of Tozer’s leg behind his knee, sighing loudly as she makes herself comfortable. Solomon keeps Edward flush to his chest, feeling his chest steadily rise and fall beneath his palm. Gently, he places a soft kiss on Edward’s cheek, just above his mutton chops. Then another one, when Solomon’s sure he won’t wake up, he presses another kiss into his cheek. Settling back down behind him, Tozer breathes him in deeply again, closing his eyes and surrounding himself in the comfort Edward exudes, even in slumber.

#edward little #solomon tozer #solittle #edward little x solomon tozer #the terror #the terror fanfic #the terror fandom #the terror amc #the terror 2018 #harry goodsir #james fitzjames #thomas hartnell

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au-rius · 7 months ago

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Extravaganza au

> This au was made back on February 27 2024 all the way to last month through an idea of a circus theme au inspired by various au creators, and mostly Music!

I listened to Darkwood circus and The greatest show unearthed which gave me the idea to make these designs, This Au focuses on Cross the Mime, A young and cunning skeleton born without a voice done from highschool now looking for a job to partake in for those without a voice, He was lucky to find a job but questions himself why of the odd things happening each day he spends time working there, Will the dark truth linger his senses?

There are 10 cast ( including Porcelaintale Papyrus ) in this au

Cross the Mime,

Killer the Acrobat,

Ink the Trapeze artist,

Error the Contortionist,

Swap/Blue the Snake whisperer,

Horror the beast,

Dust the Magician,

Porcelain the Wandering Clown,

Dream the Apprentice and

Nightmare the Ringmaster

I unfortunately haven't drawn the rest because these were drawn months ago but if I have time I will continue the other 6 cast ( Check the ALTs for their short description )

#extravaganza au #cross sans #ink sans #killer sans #dream sans

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tessa-liam · 1 year ago

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Marabelle

A Princess for a Prince – Chapter 8

Choices – The Royal Romance, AU

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret?

Marabelle Series Masterlist

Main Pairing – Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Lady Sophia (Sophie) Taylor

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC Daniel (from NYC), Drake Walker x F!OC Melanie Smithson

Most characters belong to Pixelberry Studios

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, crude language & innuendo.

Not Beta’d - Please excuse all errors.

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff

Words: 2436

Chapter Summary – Sophie receives a personal invitation to the New Year’s Eve Celebration Ball at the palace.

A Princess for a Prince, Chapter 8

Music Inspiration:

The Look of Love, Diana Krall

Kiss Me at Midnight, *NSYNC

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother.

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events.

A/N3: My submission for Choices Flashfics @choicesflashfics, Week #65, prompt 1 - “Sometimes, being with you feels so much like a dream ... and I don't ever want to wake up.”

A/N5: My submission for Choices December 2023 Holidays Prompts – New Year’s Eve

A/N4: My submission for Choices Holiday Prompts 2023, Quote Prompt – “You look even more beautiful in candlelight.”

A Princess for a Prince

As they finished breakfast, Aunt Bethany glanced at Sophie with a knowing smile. “Sophie, I believe that Prince Liam left a message for you earlier this morning, my dear.”

Beaumont Estate, Duchy of Ramsford

Sophie's heart skipped a beat. “Oh, oh ... thank you, Auntie.” She excused herself from the table, her steps quickening as she made her way to the study where the message awaited her. A sealed envelope with the royal Insignia sat elegantly on the desk. With trembling fingers, Sophie broke the seal and then unfolded the letter.

Liam’s elegant handwriting greeted her:

‘Dearest Sophie,

I hope this morning finds you well and that the memories of last night’s ball linger as fondly in your heart as they do in mine. Your grace and beauty illuminated the ballroom, and I found myself enchanted by every moment we shared.

I would be honored if you would join me at the New Year’s Eve ball at the palace. The evening promises dancing, champagne and a fireworks extravaganza. I can think of no better company than yours to enjoy the splendor and ring in the New Year.

Yours sincerely, Liam’

Sophie’s cheeks flushed with excitement and a hint of optimism. She folded the letter gently, holding it close to her heart. She quickly composed a response, expressing her eagerness to join him for the Ball.

With her heart aflutter, Sophie entrusted the letter to the awaiting palace messenger, requesting it to be delivered directly to Prince Liam’s chambers. Beaming, she made her way upstairs to her room to start planning for the event.

December 31st, Cordonian Royal Palace

The entire palace and grounds were adorned with sparkling, opulent decorations; the air felt energized with excitement. The chandeliers in the ballroom cast a warm glow across the room as the orchestra played holiday melodies. Waitstaff circulated with flutes of champagne, as nobles enjoyed sumptuous gourmet platters of hors d’oeuvres.

Entering the ballroom with her aunt, Maxwell, Bertrand and Savannah, Sophie glanced around the room. She spotted Liam very quickly, resplendent in his royal attire, engaging in conversation with Leo and Madeleine. When his eyes caught hers, he smiled delightedly, and excused himself from the conversation to make his way across the dance floor to Sophie.

Liam’s eyes sparkled as he approached her with an appreciative smile. Sophie, wearing a stunning deep purple gown that shimmered in the candlelight, returned his smile blithely and dipped into a low curtsy. Her gown, embellished with delicate lace with intricate beadwork, accentuated her curves perfectly. With a tender smile, he leaned in, closing the gap between them, softly kissing her cheek.

“Good evening, Sophie,” Liam greeted her with a charming smile, “You look even more beautiful in candlelight.” Lifting her hand for a kiss, he then pulled her close to whisper in her ear, “...and you shouldn’t curtsy, it’s just me.”

“Good evening, Liam. Thank you for inviting me.” Sophie replied, her voice tinged with excitement. The air crackled with anticipation. Sophie responded to his request with a breathy whisper, “I will remember that always.”

Offering his arm, Sophie slipped her hand around his arm and joined him to move onto the dance floor, finding a spot in the center.

Liam placed one hand on the small of Sophie’s back, the other holding her hand. She stepped into his arms, and they began to move to the music.

“You look beautiful tonight, Sophie,” Liam whispered in her ear.

“Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself.” Sophie responded shyly.

As the orchestra transitioned into a waltz, they began to move effortlessly across the dance floor, their chemistry evident in every step. Their conversation flowed seamlessly as they danced and the world around them seemed to fade as they lost themselves in each other’s company, their laughter blending with the music in perfect harmony.

Dancing the Cordonian waltz, Sophie’s gown flared and billowed as Liam twirled her under his arm. As he pulled her back to his chest, she rested her head back, enjoying the feel of his arms around her in an intimate embrace.

As the night progressed and the countdown to midnight drew near, the energy in the room heightened. The air buzzed with excitement, and the guests gathered awaiting the grand moment.

Maxwell and his mother stopped by the open terrace to wait for the fireworks show as Bertrand and Savannah joined in with the celebrations on the dance floor.

Sophie found herself standing beside Liam as the final seconds of the year ticked away. As Leo and Madeleine stood with the herald to announce the countdown. The ballroom erupted into cheers and applause as the clock struck midnight, marking the start of 2024.

Amidst the celebrations, Liam turned to Sophie, his eyes filled with warmth and determination. In that fleeting moment between the past and the future, amidst the cheers and revelry, he took her hand and whispered, “May I steal a moment with you, away from the crowd?”

Sophie’s heart fluttered as she nodded, following him as they made their way to a secluded third floor balcony overlooking the palace gardens. The night sky was filled with fireworks, with vibrant colors against the dark backdrop of the night sky.

As the echoes of fireworks lingered in the air, their eyes locked in a shared understanding; a silent acknowledgement of the unspoken emotions that had bloomed between them over the past year. Liam gently cupped Sophie’s face in his hands, his touch tender and filled with a depth of emotion as the world around them disappeared. It was just the two of them.

“Sophie,” he whispered, his voice a soft caress in the quiet night. “This past year has been a revelation, and I find myself drawn to you in ways I never thought possible. Your laughter, your kindness, and your grace have captured my heart.”

The air was charged with an unspoken electricity as Sophie gazed into Liam’s eyes, feeling her heart flittering with a mixture of excitement and a tender vulnerability. She could sense the depth of his sincerity, his words stirring something profound within her. “Liam, I feel the same about you.”

In that fleeting moment, as the world seemed to stand still, their lips met in a gentle and tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with the promise of a new beginning; an unspoken vow to explore the budding romance that had blossomed between them.

As they parted, their breaths mingling in the cool night air, Sophie’s cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, and Liam’s gaze held a warmth that mirrored the newfound connection between them. Taking her hands in his, Liam pulled her closer to him as he lowered his head to re-capture her lips. Moving one hand to her waist as the other cupped her cheek as he deepened the kiss.

The kiss spoke volumes, conveying feelings that words could not quite capture. Their shared hopes, fears, and the uncharted territories of their hearts that they were daring to explore together.

As Liam and Sophie looked up into the night sky, and more fireworks shot up to celebrate the new year, their eyes met once again.

Liam’s smile was tender. "We finally have a chance to spend some time alone," he said, squeezing her hand, pulling her even closer. As their lips met once again, Sophie felt more butterflies in her stomach. She was nervous but excited. She knew Liam was experienced, and she wanted to make sure she did everything right. She trusted him and was ready to take their relationship to the next level.

Liam kissed her passionately, his tongue exploring her mouth. She melted into his embrace, her body responding to his touch. He pulled back, his blue eyes meeting hers.

"You're so beautiful," he said, running his fingers through her long mahogany tresses.

She smiled shyly, his words making her blush.

He cupped her face with his hands, kissing her softly, his lips lingering on hers. He traced his tongue along her neck, nibbling her earlobe. She moaned softly, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

She could feel his growing desire pressing against her, his hardness against her softness.

“Liam!” Sophie’s voice was full of laughter and warning as she pushed away, her heart pounding. “We’re not alone, you know.”

“I can’t see anyone else around here.” Liam chuckled.

“That does not mean there isn’t anyone watching. We don’t want to give your guards any concerns, do we?”

“Liam sighed. “You are right, of course. But ... ”

Sophie looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, “But what?”

“Let me make this more private.” Taking her hand, he tugged her hand to walk down the long corridor, Liam turned to lead Sophie into an empty parlor. After locking the doors and closing the heavy drapes, Liam led Sophie to sit on a large sofa.

“Now,” Liam whispered, “where were we?”

“I think you were telling me about your gua...”, Liam moved in quickly to secure her lips in another passionate kiss. His passion was clear as he sat down beside Sophie. The two of them got lost in the moment as Liam pulled her onto his lap.

“Liam, I ...” Sophie began. She wanted to explain that she was unexperienced but wanted to learn more with him.

“Sshh ... No more talking,” he whispered as he closed the distance between them.

Sophie nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck, savoring the feel of his strong arms around her.

Liam gently removed the pins that secured her hair. Her curls cascaded over his hands like silk, and he buried his face in her perfumed tresses. He kissed her earlobe, then her throat. His lips moved lower, to her collarbone, while his hand gently caressed her neck and shoulder.

Sophie was breathing faster now. She tilted her head back, encouraging him to continue his exploration of her skin. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and a tiny moan escaped her.

"Sophie, there's something I've been meaning to tell you," Liam paused, his heart beating rapidly.

"What is it?" Sophie asked, her voice slightly questioning.

"I am falling in love with you," Liam whispered, his voice full of emotion.

Sophie gasped, her eyes filling with tears. "Oh Liam, I love you," she replied, her voice shaky.

"You do?" Liam asked, his face lighting up.

"Yes," Sophie replied, her smile mirroring his.

“Sometimes, being with you feels so much like a dream ... and I don’t ever want to wake up.”

Liam cupped her face with his hands and kissed her passionately. "You have made me the happiest man in the world tonight," he said, his eyes shining with love.

Sophie beamed up at him, her heart full of happiness. She had never expected to fall in love with a prince, and now, she could not imagine her life without him.

Liam pulled her into his arms, “I don’t want this night to end,” his lips brushing her ear.

“Me neither,” Sophie admitted, her heart pounding.

“Maybe it doesn't have to,” Liam said, his voice low and husky.

“What do you mean?” Sophie asked, her eyes widening.

“Well, there’s no reason we can’t stay here a little longer. The party will go on for hours, No one will miss us.”

“But, Liam, we can’t just disappear together,” Sophie protested, even though her body was already responding to the suggestion.

"Why not? No one would know where we are," Liam pointed out, his hand stroking her back.

"They might guess," Sophie said, her breath catching in her throat as Liam's hand slid lower.

"Let them," Liam murmured, kissing her neck.

"We shouldn't," Sophie whispered, even as she tilted her head to allow him better access.

"You're right, we shouldn't," Liam agreed, his lips moving down to her collarbone.

"We shouldn't," Sophie repeated weakly, her eyes closing as Liam's mouth found the spot on her neck that drove her wild.

"No, we really shouldn't," Liam said, his voice muffled against her skin.

Sophie's last resistance melted away as Liam's slipped his tongue into her mouth in search of hers in an all encompassing kiss.

Sophie's last resistance melted away as Liam's tongue plunged into her mouth, just as Liam's phone pinged with a message.

Sitting back, Liam pulled his phone out of his pocket and read the message from Maxwell.

‘Sorry to interrupt, but we're getting concerned about your whereabouts.'

Liam sighed. "Maxwell thinks we need to get back."

"We could say we got lost," Sophie suggested, her hand sliding down Liam's back.

"And what? Stay lost for the rest of the evening?" Liam chuckled.

"Well, maybe not for the rest of the evening."

"I wish," Liam said, regretfully.

Reluctantly, they made their way back to the ballroom, their bodies still humming with desire as they walked hand-in-hand.

As they approached the doorway, Liam turned to Sophie and grinned. "How about we plan another escape for next weekend?"

"I like the sound of that," Sophie replied, grinning.

💕Thanks for reading

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ambiggg · 1 month ago

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Jan 3 2025

lets reread (chapters 11-14) 🐳

Chapters 11-13

Time and time again, you may notice this gesture between these two where they press their foreheads together, touching noses in the process. If you’re a veteran of transformative work like I am, you might have not have initially thought much of it. It is after all, an existing trope, as is a shocking amount of the little idiosyncrasies in this book.

But it seems that what may actually be happening is that Queequeeg is performing something similar to Hongi (haang • gee) here, which is a traditional Māori greeting characterized by two people pressing their noses together, and typically touching foreheads as well

Here’s an illuminating article on the matter- you’ll find the part about Hongi towards the end, with an explanation of its function

because these two are romantically involved it was easy to conflate most of their gestures exclusively with romantic intent, but it’s interesting to see the second read around the error in my thinking. This can be platonic as well.

Is it in this case?

Doubtful, but interesting nevertheless. It’s a good case for not jumping to conclusions based solely on what you see.

Anyhow they’re having a quaint little de facto honeymoon, having a smoke, when Queequeg drops his origin story

Queequeg’s character is established further in these chapters, as one quick to stand his ground and fight, but just as eager to take up causes of love and compassion. He kicks this guy’s ass for mocking their relationship, but in the next heartbeat saves the man’s life. He’s pretty good at that, whole saving lives thing I, find.

Something he evidently shares with Ishmael is a sense of disillusionment . After migrating from the status of his insular island home, he realized the rest of the world was no less corrupt.

page 65, chapter 13 :

The not-so-happy fate of the Pequod is alluded to directly for what seems to be the first time

chapter 14

if you were wondering,

there is sand everywhere, a brief description of the influence of the manifest whaling industry in Nantucket, and Ishmael uses the word extravaganza

and that’s about it

#moby month #chapters 11-14 #moby dick #these may get a little shorter as I start uni pfhah but I’ll try to stay consistent

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justinspoliticalcorner · 4 months ago

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Matt Dixon and Allan Smith at NBC News:

Get ready for Donald Trump’s blue state extravaganza. With less than four weeks until Election Day, Trump is scheduled to hold rallies in staunchly Democratic states he has virtually no chance of winning. It’s an unorthodox strategy campaign advisers say is designed to focus on areas where Democratic policies have failed, but it will also keep him away from the small handful of swing states almost certain to determine the election.

Over the next month, the former president has events scheduled in Colorado, California, Illinois and New York. President Joe Biden won those states by an average of 20 points in 2020, with his 13-point Colorado win the closest margin. Colorado is the only one of those states to vote for a Republican nominee for president this millennium, backing George W. Bush in 2004. While each event will be held in slightly different venues, the most notable will be later this month in Madison Square Garden, a place where Trump has long said he wanted to hold political rally. “Choosing high-impact settings makes it so the media can’t look away and refuse to cover the issues and the solutions President Trump is offering,” said a senior Trump campaign adviser of the strategy behind late-election cycle events in Democratic states. “We live in a nationalized media environment and the national media’s attention on these large-scale, outside-the-norm settings increases the reach of his message across the country and penetrates in every battle ground state.”

“President Trump is closing the campaign highlighting the problems the country faces as a result of Harris and Biden’s failed leadership and articulating his solutions to solve the problems they created,” the adviser added. The decision to deviate from a traditional campaign playbook comes at a time when the race is almost certain to be decided in places like Georgia, Pennsylvania, Nevada, North Carolina, Wisconsin and Michigan, places that are within the margin of error in most public polling and considered winnable for both Trump and Vice President Kamala Harris. “This does not seem like a campaign putting their candidate in critical vote rich or swing vote locations — it seems more like a candidate who wants his campaign to put on rallies for optics and vibes,” longtime Republican operative Matthew Bartlett said.

He called Trump the “most unorthodox candidate in modern history,” which means the off-script strategy could have some value. “In 2016, Trump realigned the party to be much more rural and working class, now in 2024 he is trying to expand his voting base along certain cultural lines that may eat away at traditional Democratic voting blocs,” Bartlett said. A second Trump adviser said that no matter where Trump holds rallies, he gets huge online viewership, including in swing states, and there is a confidence within the campaign about their chances, which in their estimation allows for some risk. “Certainly we are bullish on our prospects writ large,” the adviser said. Some Trump supporters argued that going into areas of the country traditionally not visited by Republican presidential candidates could have a sort-of coattail effect, helping boost down-ballot Republicans in tough races. None of the states where Trump is visiting has a competitive Senate race, but there are a handful of competitive House races in a year where the majority of that chamber will likely be decided on a razor-thin margin.

In California, House District 40 is represented by Republican Young Kim, and House District 41 is represented by Republican Ken Calvert, both of whom are in contested races in the Los Angeles media market along with Coachella, which is where Trump will be holding his rally. In New York, Rep. Mike D’Esposito won Nassau County’s 4th district in 2022, but it is a seat that leans Democratic and was won by Joe Biden by 15 points in 2020. Flipping the seat played a big role in helping Republicans take the House majority in 2022. “The fact that we can pickup down ballot seats with President Trump’s aggressive travel plan is a testament to the well orchestrated and effective campaign plan that focuses on unifying all Americans,” said Ed McMullen, a Trump donor who served as ambassador to Switzerland during the Trump administration. “It is a well-planned effort to reach out and win key seats,” he added.

Donald Trump will be holding indoctrination rallies in 4 solidly Blue states in the run-up to the general election. This is wasting money big time.

#2024 Presidential Election #2024 Elections #Donald Trump #Trump Rallies #Illinois #Colorado #California #New York

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multikore · 2 years ago

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I FOUND THE SCHOOL DOODLE OF THE EXTRAVAGANZA ERROR AND NIGHTMARE

IK IT’S BASICALLY THEIR ACTUAL OUTFITS BUT I WANTED TO TRY AND MAKE AND IDEA FOR IF AND THE LIMITED COLOURS OF THE WHITEBOARD FOX KINDA(???) HELPED-

I have to go rumbling through my sketchbook for Plum AuGgGhhhHhHh-

But there smol update on the Extravaganza AU for ze multiverse ;w;

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thedaveandkimmershow · 1 year ago

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We flew home today.

I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it because, since we essentially arrived in Seattle a coupla hours after we left Amsterdam on a ten hour flight...

Today is literally packed with more hours in it than the usual 24.

It's a weird experience thinking major parts of today actually happened yesterday...

When it was all.

The same.

Day.

We didn't get to bed the previous night in anything remotely resembling a timely manner, by the way. After Kimmer's packing extravaganza—a feat in which she seemingly fit more than should fit our luggage into our luggage—after that it was 1:30AM. Setting a wake-up alarm for 5AM, then, left us three-and-a-half hours for, you know, actual sleep. Only I didn't get (or I didn't take) the full three-and-a-half. I got maybe two hours and then lay awake in bed, eyes closed, relaxed under the covers. Not sure what that was all about but, as my friend Ann likes to say, there you go and there you are. 🙂

Regardless of the monumental lack of sleep, I got up a few minutes after five seemingly without penalty. I didn't feel groggy or sleep-deprived. I just got up, readied the hot water for tea and coffee, woke Kimmer up, jumped in the shower and, by the time I was done, she's up and we're doing our final step of packing the last of our belongings into our luggage before zipping them closed, moving them to the door while we stream "Cunk on Earth" on Netflix and take a few moments to eat some of our food for breakfast that's part of the food we can't take home with us 'cause there's no room.

Coupla minutes to 630, my cousin texts me a "Goodmorning!!!!!" and we're on our way down to the hotel lobby where, surprise surprise, not only is my cousin waiting for us but also her daughter, my niece, both lounging on the couch. It's a surprise because my niece was supposed to be overnight in another town to the east of her hometown, with friends celebrating their new home. Instead, she cut that night short and showed up to see us away.

Which was very very very very very very VERY sweet of her. ☺️

After we squared things with our hotel, we found my cousin's husband waiting outside, car backed up to the ramp in front of the entrance. So we throw our bags in the back, jump in the car, and off we go.

I should mention here that I'm pretty proud of us 'cause this one time at the start of our marriage when we did this 'lil exercise, departing Holland a touch over thirty years ago, it was a comedy of errors. We were staying with my aunt and uncle outside of Amsterdam and we were still packing the very morning our flight was to leave. So it was a messy morning, rushed. I think my uncle might've slightly dinged a car behind and opposite his as he backed out of his parking spot in a hurry to get us to the airport on time. He was pretty classy about the whole affair, only casually remarking how my parents were always packed 'n ready a coupla days before leaving.

This time around, Kimmer packed us at the tail end of the previous day—technically the first hours of our departure day—then we slept a little, got up when we were supposed to, and were out the hotel right on time.

630AM.

Our plan's to arrive at Schiphol Airport three hours prior to our flight. Which is what happened.

So HUZZAH!!!!

😁

The night before, my niece gifted Kimmer with a candy-filled Harry Potter mug. So in the car this morning they're comparing Harry Potter merch when Kimmer asks my niece if she has any of the stickers.

No, I wish! comes the reply.

Now it so happens I have Harry Potter stickers in my rucksack 'cause I was gonna take some time on the flight to Holland placing them on my new water bottle. Never got around to it, though. So I pull them from my bag and hand them over to the back seat.

My first moment of gift-giving as an uncle. 😊

Later on the road, I recognize a bookend experience:

It's daylight again, the late morning of our first day in Holland. Monday. January 1. Six days before. We're traveling across the countryside to our hotel. The sun's out. It's been raining so the trees and grass and highway are painted with a lovely sheen. There are moist reflections in every color, on every texture, in everything we see. Which makes for a beautiful, classic Dutch pastoral scene.

On the radio, it's Depeche Mode, The Cure, and later, "Babe" by Styx. The inside of the car's basically filled with an 80s vibe. I'm talking music with my cousin's husband who's driving the car. We talk 80s music. Popular music. And, of course, music as it relates to my daughter's career as a professional musician. ☺️

Now it's six days after. It's today, this very moment, on the way to Schiphol Airport in the morning while it remains dark outside. It's nighttime for all intents and purposes even though we're navigating the space between 630 and 730 in the morning. In the front seats of the car we're talking about vacations, about traveling by car from Seattle to southern California, about driving that same distance from Holland to southern Italy. My cousin's husband describes yearly vacations ("holiday" as he refers to them) that are the equivalent of piling everyone in the car and hitting the road. In this case, he talks about arriving in Tuscany. He talks about arriving in Genoa. He talks about avoiding hard-case luggage in favor of duffle bags. He talks about traveling through Switzerland, driving the never-ending Gotthard Tunnel, traveling over the mountains when the tunnel's backed up. He describes one vacation they showed up on an Italian beach and no one was there. He describes various strategies for doing this holiday including splitting the 16-hour drive in two with a stayover in Switzerland, allowing for a 10AM casual departure on the first day of their travels. Returning home, the driving strategy becomes a single, mostly overnight, drive to avoid traffic.

It's fun to compare the way we take family vacations, family holiday. It's fun to compare all the things about them that are the same and the very few things that are different.

We also talk about traffic leading into Amsterdam, traffic cams on the outskirts of Amsterdam that serve the same purpose as the traffic cams in school zones in our neck of the woods. We talk about apps he uses to spot and report speed traps and, because we hit a bird just then, we share our own personal stories of hitting birds and other animals on the road. I relate stories I heard about deer leaping right into the sides of trucks or RVs. He wins for a personal story because one time on the way home with friends, a pretty large bird impacted the front windshield, smashing it inward. He's in the back seat of the car at the time looking up something on his phone when the impact occurs. So it's a violently sudden, catastrophic experience for him.

At the same time we're talking about all these things, the back seat of the car is engaged in more relational fare. Boyfriends and girlfriends. Parenting. And school.

At one point we're talking about another one of my cousins. We're talking about their kids when my niece leans forward into the front seat space to fill us in on a few things including shared family vacations with that cousin's family and that time one of the sons was in a TikTok video with his teacher. He was pretty embarrassed by it... but the video did get a lotta views. 😁

And with these competing, complementary, and mostly overlapping conversations in play, we pull into a parking lot at the airport, pull our bags from the back of the car, and walk into the terminal, the five of us.

It's 742AM.

In case you've never been, Schiphol Airport is huge. Schilphol Airport is MASSIVE. And while SeaTac has every airline represented in the main terminal as you enter, at Schiphol there's nothing central like that. You basically figure out in which direction your terminal is then you walk a bunch until you're closer to that terminal from which your flight leaves. It's only there that you finally arrive at the self check-in kiosks and the self baggage drop.

A lotta selfs going on in this airport, I gotta say.

It's definitely a good thing our family's with us because paying for our one big piece of luggage turns into at least a ten minute ordeal. The scanner can't (or won't) read my card. Can't. Can't. Can't. Until finally, with family standing all around me, pitching me suggestions, the scanner humors me and decides to work.

So family, as it turns out, is the essential ingredient to successfully paying baggage fees at Schiphol Airport. 😉

Once that's done, I realize we're living our parent's experience because, once upon a time, my parents, too, left with a lot of family food gifts in their luggage. Once upon a time, too, they had to buy extra luggage, like my cousin did for us the previous day, to hold all those food gifts. Once upon a time, too, my aunts and uncles walked my parents through the airport, helped them with their bags. Once upon a time, too, my aunts and uncles bade my parents farewell in this very airport with embraces and kisses on the cheek.

What was true then, it turns out, remains true today. I think the only difference is that we're more huggers these days.

Another difference, I think, is that we're more likely to draw this moment out because we don't want it to end. We can always think of more conversations to have, more pictures to take.

In the end, we say the things we need to say to each other, the things we want to say. And I'm sure after one round of hugs and a subsequent impromptu conversation, we indulged another round of hugs as if the first one never happened.

For me, my regret is leaving this family. This one and the larger one with whom we navigated the week. I'm also caught by the realization that it would've been a pretty cool thing to have known my cousin's husband earlier in both our lives. And I'm profoundly struck by the fact that, while we live a pretty good and fulfilling life in the states, our lives would've been better, our lives would definitely have been better, with my cousin in it.

Because she really is all that.

☺️☺️☺️

With our extended goodbyes out the way, and after one last round of family photographs—all of us in one image—my cousin and her family start making their way back to their car as we turn to get in line for the self baggage drop.

As we take our place in line, I remember to look back for my family. I immediately spot them walking away. They've been keeping track of us in line as well. And in that moment in which we catch each other's attention for the last time, we reach our hands high into the air to wave goodbye.

And finally.

Finally...

Go our separate ways.

❤️❤️❤️

#going home #holland #netherlands #family #love #seattle #amsterdam #schiphol airport #packing #saying goodbye #luggage #check-in #holiday #vacation #family travels #family history

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