mistrdctr

[mistrdctr]

Stephen would receive a notification of an email from an immediately recognizable username: ThorOdinson45 @ gmail. The message would read: “STRANGE I HAD AN EMAIL MADE FOR Me courtesy of Jacobs mother she wishes to COMMUNICate with you 🐐” and attached below the message was an email (AMMagic @ gmail) and a phone number.

That is... an interesting Email-notification that suddenly pops up on Strange's phone-screen, catching his attention; He taps on it, opening said notification, reading through it with a hint of amusement - so Thor has figured out how to do the whole Email-thing, but still doesn't understand how the capslock-thing works - before he then focuses on the attached Email address.

Jacob's mother. Well, with what her son is currently doing at Kamar-Taj, it doesn't come as a surprise to the sorcerer that she would, eventually, reach out and try to get in contact.

---Either with her own son only, or... well, with him as well, Stephen Strange, the man who has sent said son to Kamar-Taj to begin with.

Copy-pasting said attached Email address, the sorcerer hums out a low, contemplating noise as he types up a few words. ... Sure, he could call her as well, but, uh, honestly, Strange prefers to text or send mails rather than having to do an actual phone call. It's just so much more convenient to text rather than to try and communicate with words, sometimes.

[Mail to: AMMagic @ gmail] [From: DoctorStephenStrange @ gmail] [Subject: Hi]

Hi, this is Doctor Stephen Strange. Thor let me know you wanted to get in contact with me - so here I am! What can I do for you?

#wildcxrds #(social anxiety stephen prefers mails or text messages lol) #feels queue but i'll allow it.

[mistrdctr]

It's still hard to believe for Stephen that this is real, that he's not caught up in a dream somewhere; Yes, he is pinching his own arm there, just to make sure - it hurts, and no, Strange does not wake up in a sudden different reality.

So Tony is truly here, in his bed, tangled up in those red velvety sheets and asks about the time, just as the sorcerer himself is halfway through his bedroom. Part of him doesn't even want to look back at him for a second time, afraid that Tony could just turn into dust the second he does... but Stephen eventually kicks himself mentally, glances over his shoulder, back at that man that remains very much existent as bright irises rests upon his form.

There are indeed a few rays of sunlight peeking through those thick curtains the older one gazes at, colored in a bright hue of orange, indicating that the sun is just starting to cross the line of the horizon. They're spilling across the bed, the one and only Iron Man, and...

Fuck, he looks stunning with his bedhead hair and the light illuminating him in such a way---

Strange cannot stop himself from openly staring now, even going as far as facing him halfway, remaining standing in the middle of his bedroom. His heart is racing inside his chest and he thinks he can still taste Tony on the back of his tongue there - a little sweet, very much warm, heady even...

---That's precisely why that spoken question gets lost on the sorcerer again there, only for him to remember after an awkwardly long while has passed between them. He clears his throat, quickly glancing over at the alarm clock sitting on the little bedside table, before his attention is back on his visitor.

"Uh--- uhm, a little after five.", he says, hesitantly. "Quite early, still. I, uh... probably woke you up. Sorry about that..."

Stephen should turn away now, go to the bathroom as announced, but he just cannot take his eyes off of Tony just yet...

Turning himself into an idiot here, probably. Just because of how big of a crush he has on the older Avenger...

@mistrdctr

Continued from here: XxxX

Tony doesn't exactly remember how he ended up where he was, well he recalls Stephen practically carrying him to the bedroom and the very feverish make out session before that but the rest was a bit spotty. Now Tony knew that naturally he had always been a bit of the flirt, it came with his persona and he always thought it was fun to make people blush after receiving a playful wink from the one and only Iron Man but usually it was just flirting.

The Avenger had given up his very promiscuous lifestyle after Afghanistan and he tried to be a little bit more selective in his choice of partners, but he liked Stephen Strange. Actually, he really liked Stephen Strange.

The Sorcerer wasn't afraid to talk back to him, he challenged him and quite frankly Tony thought that was extremely attractive. It also didn't help that the man as a whole was very handsome with his perfect cheekbones and air of mystery surrounding him. God he sounded like a crushing school girl when he thought about it like that.

So maybe it wasn't too much a surprise that he ended up in the Wizard's bed, he was more surprised that Stephen hadn't turned him down. Tangled up in the Mystic Art Master's red velvet sheets and sprawled out on the bed like a lazy cat does he watch at the younger man walks off. "You don't happen to have the time on ya? Do you?" The inventor gently inquires as he tried to poke his head up to see if he could spot sunlight streaming in through the curtains.

#ironifiicd #feels queue but i'll allow it.

[mistrdctr]

Cute date idea: We go to the planetarium together, look at the stars and talk about the universe

#(Oh yes. Stephen likes.) #Likings;

[mistrdctr]

I am smooching u L for no reason bye

|| Is smooched for no reason ACCEPTS BEING SMOOCHED FOR NO REASON

pls feel smooched right back ok? ok bye

#ooc; #(no reason smooches = best smooches) #(hope you are doing ok ben ilu)

[mistrdctr]

IN-DEPTH HEADCANON QUESTIONS: is your muse more of an endurance runner, or are they better at short sprints?

Headcanon questions || always accepting! (I dunno which exact meme this is from so uh... sorry haha :'D)

Stephen is definitely a short-sprint kind of guy. While he's quite fit because of the combat training he does every now and then (less frequently than he should, really...) and because casting magic actually requires quite some energy from his body, he's usually relying on... well, magic, rather than on his body.

He can fight, obviously, knows how to defend himself, can run certain distances well, but he's definitely not an endurance runner and physical activities such as 'going for a jog' is somewhere verrrrry far down on his 'enjoyable things to do'-list.

#ofcrimsonenchantresses #personal file; headcanons #(thank you so much fpr sending this in! ♥) #feels queue but I'll allow it.

[mistrdctr]

... Yeah, actually, Tony is right with that; Stephen does not get much sex, not at all, but... well, as said, he's got things to do, he's busy most of the time. Magic isn't studying itself, after all, and Stephen needs to stay up to date at all times.

That he does have enough time still to focus on, uh, more primal things in life, is one little detail that doesn't matter as much.

And he could take Tony's comment in a very much personal way - exclaim that he's very much satisfied and happy, really - but the sorcerer chooses another approach instead, tilting his head a bit as he arches both brows with a somewhat expectant expression crossing his features.

Because the other's words very much sound as if he's---

"---Are you offering?"

"With 'certain things'?" Tony's brow lifts, a half smirk forming. "Strange, is that your way of telling me that you're getting no sex? No wonder you're so tense all the time. A roll around would really lighten you up."

#sioraiocht #(jihgfijFOJFGH HEY TONY) #(ARE YOU OFFERING????) #(your local sorcerer might be interested lol) #feels queue but i'll allow it.

[mistrdctr]

The whole act of being shaven feels... good, actually, and the intimacy of it slowly sinks into Stephen's bones, becoming a rather comfortable warmth that feels like a secret shared only between the two men. He relaxes after a little while, tension fading away from firm shoulders, allowing them to lower a bit as the sorcerer exhales softly, looking at himself in the mirror's reflection...

Or rather, Tony's reflection, for the matter. Just taking in the sight of him, the way those features tell that the one and only Iron Man is thinking hard there while focusing on his task at hand. His big brown eyes betray him in such a way; The cogs working behind them can basically be seen within those dark pupils, and it amuses the sorcerer a little, how intense Tony is when it comes to such things.

Said amusement only increases when his boyfriend (still such a foreign thing to say, but it's... exiting) insists on truly spoiling Stephen, talking about preparing food, a little pampering, such things. It causes the sorcerer to smile ever so gently, trying to be subtle about it so as to not make it harder for Tony to shave his cheeks, hopefully not accidentally ruining the look of his goatee.

Because Strange quite likes said goatee on himself, perhaps just as much as Tony enjoys his own.

The topic of their conversation changes then, however, before the sorcerer himself can say anything; It causes him to blink, the suggestion surprising and intriguing him, clear irises lingering on Tony's reflection once more as his eyes widen briefly.

"---Okay, you got my attention there.", is what Stephen gives as a reply, slightly tilting his head so to make it easier for the other to reach the spots he needs to shave, a hint of a smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth. "You prepared something for me? In your workshop? ...I'm very much curious now, ready to indulge your brain, as you call it."

Must be some kind of device then, no? Huh. Interesting.

"...Yeah, sure, we can do that. I'll open us a portal once you're done helping me out here." Even with how much his hands are shaking, the sorcerer should still be able to do the portal-thing; If he focuses well, he can even do it without moving his fingers at all, so it will be fine.

@mistrdctr

Tony took his time with the blade, making sure to get each and every spot the other had placed the shaving cream over. He was careful not to move too quickly, not wanting to nick the skin and cause Stephen any more pain than he was already in. Every so often, his gaze would move down to catch a glimpse of his hands before moving back up to his face, noticing the shaking. If he could figure out which parts were the most affected by the crash, he would be able to program the device correctly. Though he knew in order to do that, he might have to bring Stephen into the workshop and that would scupper his idea of it being a surprise. Oh well...

"Yes spoil you," he replied with a smile, catching his gaze as he moved to finish one side of his face and gently guided the other to turn his head so he could do the other side. "This isn't spoiling you silly. I mean like... making you some food, pampering you so that you're not focusing on casting spells all day..."

He paused, realising now might be the time to bring it up.

"Maybe you could come into the workshop with me after this?" He suggested, "I uh.. well there's something that I have been meaning to show you for a while now and this might be the perfect time to do so. If you don't mind indulging my brain for just a little bit. Then we can get back to properly spoiling you."

#mxrvelouscreations #feels queue but i'll allow it.

[mistrdctr]

It is only now that Stephen actually realizes that his unusual guest, the one cursed with whatever he's wearing around his neck, really, has called him by his first name - twice, even. There's no Doctor there, no Strange, just... Stephen.

That, uh, feels weird - but he'll allow it, for the sake of... whatever this is between them. For once the sorcerer does not want to cause blood to turn sour here again, if only because of Loki having been so thoughtful as to bring tea for the both of them.

A peace-offering for a peace-offering, something like that.

What Strange does do, however, is to roll his eyes at the god of mischief reacting in such a way to his own spoken words, the whole 'look pretty'-moment he's allowed to slip over his lips. It has been meant in a much less serious way than the other takes it, but... well, it is what it is, and - again - the sorcerer forgoes it for the sake of peace and quiet.

Not that Loki is ugly - far from that - but... still. He's even more vain than Strange himself, and that's quite an achievement, really.

"---Well, actually... yeah, I guess some things could happen in case anything goes wrong here.", is the answer he gives, a little sheepish perhaps, but the sorcerer knows that being upfront and honest here might be the best way to take; The cursed one himself practices magic, after all, and if it weren't for that collar to exist, rendering him unable to use his powers, he wouldn't require Strange's assistance. Not at all.

Clearing his throat, still reading through the spell, Stephen glances over at Loki before his gaze is right back on the written syllables there, one hand moving a bit in the air, gathering an orange glow around his scarred digits. "I'm unsure what exactly could go wrong, but... as we know, magic is a little... tricky sometimes. Perhaps there could be some agony, maybe you could be turned into a frog, or maybe I accidentally cause this reality to briefly collapse into itself, which causes portals to be opened into different dimensions... such things." ...Yeah, that has happened before. Strange clears his throat, shrugs, then continues to read.

"So, uh, if I were you, I would prepare for something painful, something uncomfortable, the possibility of being cursed further than you already are, perhaps a temporary loss of your own existence, or the sight of demon creatures that might be spawning here in the basement..."

Yeah, well, doesn't sound too comforting, the sorcerer knows, but what is he supposed to do?

"---Try to stay still while I'm casting the spell, alright? No sudden twitching, no sudden removing yourself from the spot you're standing on, no talking, no excessive thinking."

Loki’s good mood continues onward with Stephen’s surprised graciousness; after all, the God of Mischief isn’t as cruel as one might believe. It feels rewarding to change people’s opinions on that. Sometimes. A little warmth in his chest spiderwebs, seeing as Stephen isn’t always so hard-edged either.

With more than a little honey in his own tea, he has a long sip, and cocks a brow at Stephen’s directions - having expected more than just needing to stand back and look pretty. Speaking of-

“Do you think I look pretty?” he inquires with a slight purr, and pads over with a dancer’s grace to the spot on the floor indicated. And oh yes, yes he can feel the magic buzzing against his skin, the power like a current through the air. He’s come to recognize Strange’s own brand of magic, tasting the signature spiciness and floral notes - like cinnamon, and patchouli. At least, that’s what he perceives it as. But that’s a thought he’ll keep to himself.

Loki does a little turn in the ritualistic circle, as if Stephen didn’t just catch an eye-full earlier, and winks before having another sip, humming in satisfaction to himself.

“-Just out of curiosity, as well, what may I expect to go through if your casting does not succeed? Simply so I can prepare myself, in case it’s some sort of agony or transfiguration.”

#kissedbymischief #feels queue but i'll allow it.

[mistrdctr]

[Text - Wanda] Great! That's great, yes. [Text - Wanda] I hope you also like cats. [Text - Wanda] But you said you like pets in general, so... I assume you like cats? Not only dogs. Cats and dogs? [Text - Wanda] ... Because, maybe, uh... [Text - Wanda] You know, wouldn't it be nice to have a cat? [Text - Wanda] I can confirm, it is indeed quite nice to have a cat. I just don't have enough time... you know, sorcerer things. [Text - Wanda] But for a person who doesn't always need to leave into another dimension to handle stuff, who has a more regulated life, who could need a little companion so as to not be so alone after... all the shit that has happened, yes... cat's are definitely wonderful.

@mistrdctr

[text: Stephen] Yeah? ok ask away! [text: Stephen] I love pets! [text: Stephen] I've never been so lucky to have a pet of my own but back home, there was a stray dog that used to come by our home every so often. [text: Stephen] He was a little black and white dog that we called Spot and he was the cutest. [text: Stephen] Why do you ask?

#illbringthechaosmagic #(-snort- stephen i guess you are not as subtle as you think you are) #feels queue but i'll allow it.

[mistrdctr]

@ironifiicd cont. [x]

To be honest, part of Stephen has absolutely no idea how they've even ended up where they are now, on Tony's couch, with the other beneath him; Perhaps some banter has lead from one thing to the other, the few glasses of Bourbon might have added to that on top of it all---

But he's really not complaining, not at all. Strange himself has been having those damn butterflies stuck inside his chest for a while now, and with how Tony kept flirting with him, he'd only caused said butterflies to turn from a few hundred into millions during the years they've interacted with one another now.

So, while the sorcerer is oftentimes more on the shy side of things, he can be the opposite - and Tony's behavior, in combination with the bit of alcohol that flows through his system, makes it a lot easier to lean over the man's frame and have him lie down on his back.

So here they are, and Tony's words cause a series of electric shocks to zip through the sorcerer's frame.

Fuck. ---Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Scarred hands place themselves next to either side of the older one's head as Stephen continues to hover above him, carrying his weight, bright eyes looking down at the deep brown ones as a few seconds of silence pass...

"---Say that again.", he demands, but spoken with a gentle, soft tone.

Because part of Strange just cannot believe it; He needs it confirmed, he needs to make sure he's heard that one right.

#ironifiicd #(ah yes the release of tension) #feels queue but i'll allow it.

[mistrdctr]

"You're... you're not overstepping any boundaries, really. No need to worry."

Stephen just needs to make that clear; Honestly, Tony would need to try hard to overstep any boundaries here, simply because he is him, the one man that has caused Strange's word to feel a little upside down for a long while now. Tony could probably do anything he likes to the sorcerer, and he would, perhaps, only be met with mild annoyance, at worst... quite the opposite, more likely. Banter that is acting as a mask to handle whatever Stephen feels for him, the tiny electrical shocks to his heart, the tingle in the pit of his stomach whenever their gazes meet, the dry throat and the butterflies inside his chest...

Such things.

Yeah, Strange got it bad. Very bad, actually.

So, when the older one reaches out again, takes the offer that has been made, the touch feels so much more intense than it has any right to be. Not only because of his scars being sensitive today (and any day, really), but also because of... well, everything. It's Tony, after all, Tony's own fingers that trace the tissue where broken bone lies beneath, stabilized by metal pins that will forever remain where they are.

Part of the sorcerer wants to turn his hand around, offer his palm instead, but... he refrains from doing such. Just lets the other explore for a little, his hand continuing to tremble ever so slightly - and the reason for said tremble is only partially made of the whole injury-thing, honestly. But Stephen will keep that secret to himself for now...

Ah, the butterflies. There they are, again.

"---Oh, it's, uh... it's the good kind of sensitive, definitely." Those words come much too quick to be of casual nature, and Strange clears his throat before his gaze falls back to where their skin is currently touching, bright eyes taking in the sight of those fingertips moving along the lines drawn on shaking digits.

His face is feeling hot, that means he is blushing. Fuck. Stephen hopes it's not too obvious...

But at the same time he decides to give in to a previous urge, because he is a little stupid sometimes, really - so he turns his hand around, and the connection of Tony's digits to the sorcerer's palm feels even more intense, in a way. More intimate. Tickles a little.

"...Because it's you touching me. That's always good." ---Oops. Strange blinks, realizing he's said that bit out loud; He swallows for the millionth time, and then - carefully so - glances at his doe-eyed companion, trying to gauge his reaction while contemplating all of his life choices, wondering if he should just summon a portal and allow himself to get swallowed by a hell-dimension.

His   curiosity   with   Stephen’s   scars   has   been   growing   exponentially   every   single   day.   Whether   there   was   a   free   minute   when   he   was   in   the   sorcerer’s   presence   and   said   sorcerer   didn’t   pay   attention,   Tony’s   gaze   would   always   wander   to   his   scarred   hands,   fascinated   by   every   quivering   movement   they   made.   

He’s   not   entirely   sure   why   he   was   so   downright   obsessed   with   those   scars.   Well   aware   of   the   accident   Stephen   got   himself   into,   Tony   has   to   wonder   whether   their   symbolic   nature   for   his   survival   was   the   reason   that   drew   him   in,   or   whether   it   was   both,   medical   advancements   at   managing   to   reconstruct   them,   and   medical   failures   of   not   doing   that   job   well   enough.   His   knowledge   in   the   medical   field   was   lacking,   by   his   own   standards,   but   he   had   to   wonder,   considering   his   abilities   with   the   technology,   if   he   would’ve   been   able   to   do   a   better   job,   given   the   time   and   the   needed   resources   to   figure   it   out.   Yeah,   sometimes   his   ego   was   too   big,   even   he   had   to   admit   it.   

Lost   in   his   ponderings   over   whether   he   could   have   changed   the   course   of   fate,   Tony   doesn’t   even   notice   himself   that   he   reached   out   to   graze   his   fingertips   over   Stephen’s   hands.   So   the   sudden   way   Stephen   recoils   leaves   Tony   genuinely   surprised   over   what   happened.   He   didn’t   mean   to   spook   the   sorcerer;   he   didn’t   mean   to   touch   him   in   the   first   place.   But   he   let   his   mind   wander   and   his   body   worked   in   accordance,   he   supposed.   “It’s   okay.   I   didn’t—   Sorry,   I   didn’t   mean   to   overstep   any   boundaries,   I   was   just. . .”   He   has   no   explanation   as   to   why   he   touched   him,   so   he   leaves   his   words   hanging.   

The   response   he   gets   is   quite   the   opposite   of   what   he   expected   though,   and   shock   returns   to   Tony’s   gaze   as   it   jumps   back   to   meet   the   clear   blue   of   Stephen’s   eyes.   Slowly,   a   lopsided   smile   curls   on   his   lips,   and   with   a   small   nod,   Tony   reaches   out   again,   his   fingertips   barely   ghosting   over   Stephen’s   scarred   skin.   “Is   it   good   sensitive   or   bad   sensitive?”   He   asks,   his   voice   barely   above   the   whisper.   “Cause   if   it’s   unpleasant,   I   can   stop.”  

@mistrdctr cont.

#storyuntrue #(THESE TWO I SWEAR) #feels queue but i'll allow it.

[mistrdctr]

To be fair, Stephen had mentioned the whole dying-while-saving-the-world kind of thing more as a comment on the side, something fun to banter about; Ben, however, seems to be much more horrified by that fact than the sorcerer had expected him to be, and part of him now almost feels guilty for making that man go through those emotions... for no reason at all, really.

Simply because Strange is fine, he is alive and well, and it's just what he has to do - dying - to keep the Universe safe (sometimes). Thank god it's not a daily task for him to go through, as it is very much not comfortable to experience the whole act of, well, yeah, being dust, but... still.

The questions do surprise him a little - while he's been asked similar things before, not many have been genuinely interested in how the sorcerer feels, both physically and mentally, because of what he'd done back then. He's not even mad about them not caring; It's just a lot to comprehend and he understands, really... but it feels surprisingly refreshing - and intimate, for some reason - to have some genuine concern appearing here, to have a rather unfamiliar man decide to inquire about that rather than any other, more interesting things that could be asked about the whole incident really.

So another, slightly sheepish smirk appears on Stephen's features and he clears his throat - again - before shrugging, gaze averting as his hands find their way into the pockets of his jacket.

"Well... yeah. Yeah, it's kind of... a lot, sometimes.", is the quiet admission he makes then, followed by a set of raised brows and a bit of a thoughtful expression as he stares into the distance. "Dying itself feels... interesting. To be fair, most of the times there was just a lot of pain and then... nothing. Darkness. And suddenly I was back, and I did it all over again. I got impaled, I got burned to dust, I got smashed into a pancake - it's fascinating, in a way, to go through all of that but also... quite a nightmare in itself. The sensations burn themselves into your existence, you know?"

By saying such, the sorcerer has given partial answers to almost all of those questions at once here; He swallows, then his gaze finds its way back to the young englishman, followed by a soft expression and another shrug, the smirk widening on his full, beard-framed lips.

"So... I guess you could call it traumatizing, yes. And, as a matter of fact, I do dream about it sometimes. But... not as often anymore, as it has been a while. Years, at this point. I have, uh... experienced so much since then - worse stuff - that is kind of... you know, making everything seem a little less sensational, perhaps. You get used to it, the things you see and experience. At some point it just becomes... normal, almost. I have a lot of power, but in return I have to use it, and I have to expose myself to danger that could, potentially, end my life. ---And it did, just that I came back again and again and again... But, one day, I won't be coming back. I know I won't. There will be that one last time I face an enemy and then... it's over and done with."

...Wow, that got very... well, uh... "---Sorry, that got quite dark here rather sudden. Uh, take everything I'm saying with a grain of salt, okay? It's fine. I could be doing so much worse; I am blessed, actually, for being allowed to do what I do, and for being able to life my live the way it happens."

The smirk turns into a smile, with Stephen nodding, allowing a second of silence to pass between them.

"... ---Exploding watches are quite cool, though. I'm sure they can come in very handy when the situation calls for them."

Q was aware that these kind of things went on but they were not usually within his wheelhouse; he'd long ago discovered that worrying about matters such as magic and aliens was pointless beyond a personal fascination since he couldn't do anything to help. Being so useless had never sat well with Q, though meeting someone like Stephen who handled such things as though it was just a Wednesday had put him at ease.

The biggest difference between his perception of Stephen's heroics and the actual reality was that apparent fact that Stephen died while doing his work.

Q let his hands pulled back just slightly as soon as the swelling of the taller man's chest confirmed everything was in working order. The tiniest part of him, a loud tiny part, wanted to fling his arms around Stephen's neck and demand to now if he was actually okay... But Q pushed it down since he couldn't imagine Stephen had any interest in being hugged by a crying Englishman.

"I mostly just ignore that kind of thing." He admitted. "Only so much an exploding watch can do." But he listened to the story with small hums and nods to confirm he was able to comprehend the bizarre story that Stephen was detailing - if the story had been from any other person, Q would have just rolled his eyes.

"Isn't that kind of traumatising? Even though you didn't physically end up dead. You still experienced being reset- being dead?" He corrected himself, shaking his head at the stupidity of comparing his own time in the lab. He hadn't willingly put himself through all of that and that hadn't been death no matter how much pain it had been. No, Stephen was an actual hero despite how casually he acted. Not an experiment.

"Do you have nightmares about it?" Q asked after a moment of quiet thought.

#hacker-codeq #(ooops this got very deep for some reason LOL) #(and...long. sigh.) #feels queue but i'll allow it.

[mistrdctr]

London was actually sunny

#Aesthetic; Enjoyments

[mistrdctr]

Loki appears much sooner than Strange had hoped him to, honestly. While he does want this to be over - to free the other of that rather unfortunate piece of jewelry he wears - he'd secretly wished for the god of mischief to take his time, just so that Stephen could enjoy his moment of peace and quiet to the fullest.

Well, it is what it is; The sorcerer takes a deep breath upon that voice appearing behind him, so familiar by now, and he opens his mouth to say something as he turns around to face Loki once he is being nudged---

...Oh. ---Oh, tea. The sight causes him to pause, those words that had been resting on the tip of his tongue to die there, and Strange closes his mouth after a moment of silent staring, clearing his throat, then accepting the offered mug with a lopsided hint of a smirk tugging on his full lips. He mumbles a softly spoken "Uh, thank you." before bringing the warm beverage close to his mouth, inhaling the scent before taking a sip...

Good tea it is, actually - a rich herbal aroma, mild taste, slightly wooden and a bit sweet.

That... certainly throws Stephen off a bit here and he feels himself deflating, followed by another sigh and him straightening, blue eyes flicking back to the man in front of him as his thoughts are gathered.

Okay, alright, he can work with that - with Loki, with his curse. Time to stop being a sulky mess and focus on the kindess of the action - as well as the task on hand.

"---Alright, yeah, uh... I actually don't really need you to do much." The sorcerer would certainly prefer it if his guest wasn't going to die here, yes, but... besides that?

Taking another sip of tea, Strange turns back around and then places his warm drink down onto the table besides him, facing that book that could potentially help them out here for now; His fingers hover in the air, pages moving on their own until the page holding the mentioned spell appears.

"So... Just, uh, stand over there..." A gesture is made right after, scarred digits pointing to an empty space to their right. The floor seems to be painted with some sort of pattern there, consisting of circles, straight lines, runes. They glow faintly, obviously holding some kind of magic...

"---And uh, yeah. Just... stand there, look pretty, such things. For now. I'll go through this spell a few times inside my mind to prepare." And not accidentally fuck something up, Stephen thinks to himself without looking at Loki.

Loki’s smirk grows wide when it seems that Strange is undecided, and indeed irritated. After all that, the remark of loving himself is all Stephen can come up with? Weak. Entertaining. …Endearing. Oh, oh, Loki is finding it quite fun to press his buttons in an-innocent-but-definitely-not sort of way, seeing no harm in making the sorcerer blush. And fumble. Clearly, there’s something he can work with. Besides, Stephen is a handsome man. No harm in flirting.

And boy, does Loki relish being right.

He huffs in a guffaw of a laugh after Strange is gone and the portal shut, finding his chest warm and his spirits light for the first time since reviving. He’s needed a laugh forever ago, and he finds himself chuckling all the way through his thorough shower, making sure to moisturize his face and condition his hair afterward. A little cologne - notes of pine, rain, dirt - and he slips on a dark green jumper and a different pair of black sweats than his workout ones, before making his way down to the basement, briefly detouring to the kitchen to gather them both a mug of tea.

“Alright,” Loki announces cheerily as he descends into the workshop-looking expanse, and pads over to Stephen to nudge one of the mugs against his arm once it seems he won’t be too inconvenienced by a pause.

Perhaps it is a peace offering.

“Let us attempt this new spell. What do you need from me, Stephen?”

#kissedbymischief #(jdgfsadgfs) #feels queue but i'll allow it.

[mistrdctr]

Benedict Cumberbatch as Stephen Strange in “Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness” 2022. Dir. by Sam Raimi.

#Picture Folder; Appearance #(sorry for no writing today but have a gorgeous stephen bc i have the biggest muse for him)

[mistrdctr]

|| Yes hello, my queue ran out again; I try to fill it back up as soon as I can, however today has been an especially slow day for me... so it might take a few days again.

Thank you for your patience! ♥

I hope you all are doing well - sending you lots of good vibes and love!

#ooc; #(today has been... weird for some reason) #(got up so tired have been tired all day still tired) #(writing feels exhausting tho my muse is IMMENSELY BIG) #(same on Khan... sighs) #(I shall try to do at least one or two replies on him but. Man. it be hard.) #(why writing so hard sometimesssss) #(but I am sure it will come back to me soon and then I shall put stuff back into the queue <3 )

[mistrdctr]

"Come back to bed."

&. 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

Stephen almost jumps out of his skin when he hears the sudden voice speak up behind him; He's sitting on the edge of the mattress, naked as the day he was born (just being more of a grown-up now, thankfully), had done so without looking around much, really, and was about to start thinking about whether all of what he remembers doing had been a dream or---

Well, said dream has just asked him to come back to bed, so - looks like Tony is very much real, and the mentioned things Strange remembers doing to him probably are very real memories as well.

That causes him to blush violently and he clears his throat, trying to remain suave - while his heart starts racing inside his chest, mind you - as he blinks, swallows, then glances over his shoulder...

... There he is, Tony Stark. Looking back at him, still waiting for the sorcerer to react.

Fuck. He really is there. Alive and well, and he looks just as handsome as he always does. Even more so, actually, because he lies in Stephen's bed and is covered by Stephen's blankets, and he probably also smells like Stephen now and Stephen's bed smells like him in return and---

Focus, Strange, for fucks sake.

"...I, uh, I was just... I was, um, going to go to the bathroom real quick. Will be back in a second, alright?"

Clearing his throat again, the sorcerer rises to his feet, attempting to do exactly what he's just said.

A bit of water to his face will do him good, right? He can come back right after and be impressed about the fact that yes, Tony indeed is here and yes, they did get close last night. Fuck, just thinking about it makes him feel warm in all the special places...

#ironifiicd #Suggestive; #(hahaha :D Stephen is a bit starstruck and very happy that apparently nothing has been a dream lol) #Feels queue but I'll allow it.