#benedict cumberbatch fan fiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sobeautifullyobsessed · 11 days

Text

A Khan By Any Other Name

a prequel to Star Trek: Into Darkness

mystery, suspense, danger ~ romance & NSFW material to follow

summary: Seraphina DiPietro is wise in the ways of the world; she has to be, as she travels the California coast as a torch singer in pubs, bars, and nightclubs. She knows how to take care of herself and stay out of trouble--most of the time. When trouble comes, it's usually because she lets her kind heart overrule her common sense. Stopping to check on a handsome stranger stranded roadside in the Mojave Desert, her curiousity is piqued as much by his classic, mint-looking Mustang, as by its driver--a tall, dark, mysterious drink of water, whom she quickly learns is so much more than he appears.

characters: Khan Noonien Singh (aka: John Harrison), Seraphina DiPietro (OC)

words: 1.9k

Chapter Two

“Drop it now,” he repeated, with the sure authority of a man accustomed to having his orders obeyed, “And I promise I will not hurt you.”

Despite his iron grip, Seraphina struggled to pull her arm away, hissing through teeth gritted against the pain, “Won’t hurt me? You’re hurting me now.”

Harrison’s hold on her arm loosened some; she was still tightly caught, but the pressure of his grasp, the pain, had receded a fair bit—although she knew she’d find dark, finger-shaped bruises there in short order. If she even lived that long. “Forgive me,” he told her, his voice low and even, “I’d forgotten how fragile your bones can be.”

What an odd thing to say, she thought, straining for release from his clutch and realizing it was all too impossible; she was no match for his strength, and even if she could manage to trigger the mace, she had no sure way to aim it properly. She felt desperate, frightened tears well up in her eyes, but squeezed her eyes shut against them—for she would not give her assailant the satisfaction of her despair, nor would she beg for mercy.

He must’ve read that quiet resignation on her face, for he tugged her fist close and covered it with his free hand, urging her to see reason, “You cannot win this struggle, Seraphina. Your resistance is futile; surely you understand this?” Harrison’s voice was silk persuasion, rich and dark and seductive—at complete odds with the very real threat he presented. “I could easily break your wrist and prize your little weapon from your fingers—but I honestly have no desire to hurt you. Just let it go.” And then, to her great surprise, he added, “Please.”

Blinking through the tears that fell against her will, tears that betrayed weakness when she wanted to be strong, Seraphina met his eyes again. His beautiful, deadly eyes—and saw in them an unexpected sincerity that matched his gentle “please”. She bowed her head and opened her fist, leaving her key and the can of mace to fall onto the passenger seat.

“There—that wasn’t so difficult after all, was it?” Why was his voice so soothing? Fear of what he might do to her next coursed through her veins, yet Seraphina thought she could easily crumple to the ground, curl up into a fetal ball, and let his voice see her into untroubled darkness. The heat, the fear, the adrenaline, the struggle—all of it had sapped her of the will to face whatever might come next. She’d always believed it wasn’t in her nature to fall apart so quickly, but she felt that way now, all the same.

True to his word, Harrison released her arm, but Seraphina remained in place, braced against the passenger side door, shaking in the aftermath and considering her very limited options. She might try to make it to her hovercraft, but the stranger now held her key; and even if she had the strength to run and the speed to outpace him, to flee into the desert at her back would be equally as brutal as anything he might do to her. She'd have to make her stand right here, then--and though she was no match for his size and strength, she knew enough to leave him hurting before he took her down for good.

Taking stock of her condition--mentally preparing to fight him off as best she could--Seraphina flexed her left wrist carefully, wincing as she explored her tender forearm with cautious fingers. Nothing broken at least, though she felt a bone-deep ache; but it would not be enough to hamper any effort to defend herself.

Strangely, Harrison was ignoring her at the moment; having retrieved her keychain, he had torn the can of mace free with no effort, before hurtling it carelessly into the desert. Seraphina had a vivid image of her own broken, half-naked body flung just as easily and left upon the sand for carrion-eaters to feast upon. She shoved the idea down deep, knowing such fear would only cripple her--and was immediately dumbfounded when he held the key out to her.

"Did I not say I have no wish to harm you?" Harrison's eyes bored into her own, searching for calm and reasoned understanding. "In spite of how it appears, we are equally vulnerable in this place and situation. We must find a way to trust one another. " Sera only continued to regard him warily. "Take this," he insisted, "If I judge you correctly, simple concern for a traveler in need motivated you to stop. And in keeping with your nature, I believe that you will not deny me the help that I need."

Sera studied his face, looking for signs of deception, skittish to trust him but accepting his peace offering nevertheless. "You lied," she said, defiant yet holding her anger at bay, "This car isn't yours..."

Harrison nodded, his full lips pressed together against a small placid smile, "I never claimed that it was..."

"It's stolen," she fumed, irritated with herself for allowing him to so easily mislead her when her first instinct had been correct after all.

"An act of desperation, I assure you..."

"Just as this was," she exclaimed, extending her bruised forearm to him, "I have to wonder what happens to people who truly stand in your way, Mr. Harrison. "

Unruffled by her outburst, Harrison closed his eyes a moment and breathed deeply. When he looked to her again, he was the picture of patience. "I swear I have no desire to cause you--or anyone else--harm. But you must understand, I am in dire straits and as we linger here, my family is in imminent danger." He paused, weighing the effect of his words upon her. "Such a thing will make a man act beyond the measures of polite society."

Seraphina narrowed her eyes, skeptical of his revelation of a family, but suspending her disbelief for the moment, "How then? What sort of danger is your family in?"

"Their very lives hang in the balance, threatened by a powerful man who seeks to manipulate me into working for him." Embers of hate flashed in his eyes, and he gave a bitter huff as he added, "Forcing me to work toward the most nefarious of purposes."

Sera shook her head, clearing the double vision that had crept up on her; she cupped a trembling hand against her forehead, which came away slick with perspiration. It was the heat getting to her, obviously. She felt parched, although the thought of putting anything into her roiling stomach left her feeling even more nauseous, and her head was pounding in time with her racing pulse. She needed to get out of the goddamn heat before she collapsed from heat exhaustion--while the man before her looked completely unaffected by the desert climate. "And...and I suppose this mysterious man is so powerful that you can't seek help from the proper authorities?" Sera leaned all her weight against the car door, wondering if Harrison had noticed her current state of distress.

If he did, he gave no sign of it, a mix of pain and rancor coloring his strikingly handsome features. "So powerful that it would be in your best interest to remain ignorant as to his identity and position." Anticipating her next question, he warned her, "Do not ask--for I cannot reveal that information."

Though stymied by his vague replies--and sensing a much more complicated tale behind what he'd already admitted to--Sera read blunt honesty in his voice and body language. And the fact that he had willingly returned her key while asking for--rather than demanding--her help, seemed a testament to some underlying truth. She realized that she likely had only a few more minutes until she passed out, leaving her completely at Harrison's mercy. "Then how...how did you end up here, stranded in the Mojave," Sera asked, panting softly, "How does any of this help your family?"

He was watching her closely now, so that he had to aware that she was fading fast. "That is a rather long and complicated tale, Seraphina." His voice had again taken on a lulling pitch. "One which I believe would outlast your capacity to remain on your feet."

She held on to the window frame, white-knuckled but determined to remain upright long enough to learn his hidden agenda. "I'm fine...I...I'm just a little light-headed..."

"Step aside now, Seraphina." Again, that tone of a man whose orders were obeyed without question. "You have little time left before you lose consciousness." His hand was already on the door handle, and she stumbled back in time for him to swing the door open.

Then he was looming over her, a tall, cooling shadow, reaching out to brace her. His touch this time was firm, while surprisingly gentle. "We need to get you out of this heat." Unexpected concern in is stunning eyes, calming concern in his voice. The man was a beautiful enigma.

"No...please...tell me. If...if you want me to trust you..." Her world was darkening around the edges, narrowing so that only his face remained in her field of vision. "If you want me to help...I need...I need to know..." Seraphina felt herself going, and as her consciousness fled, so did her fear and curiousity; only one need remained. She sobbed against him as he scooped her up into his arms, "But you promised...you promised not to hurt me again..." Her eyes fluttered shut as she slipped away from awareness.

Harrison strode swiftly towards her hovercraft, cradling her as softly as he could, knowing that the cool, dark interior was the quickest remedy at hand for what ailed her. "Oh, pretty little Seraphina," he murmured, brushing his lips against her dampened hair, inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine and honey, relishing how light and easy she felt in his arms. "Hurting you is the least likely thing I have planned."

(to be continued)

If you enjoyed this, please reblog ~ it's the only way others can see this work.💟

tagging: @icytrickster17 @ironstrange1991 @strangelockd @groovy-lady @aphroditesdilemma @stewardofningishzida @battledress @mousedetective @dearmrsstephenstrange @lorelei-lee @mckiwi @shinebrightlikeafanbase @cumberbatchitis @doctorhelm @strangeflashholmes221 @prulock @stargirl-designs @hajile10 @dancingmushu @iloveavengersblog @fireonmybones @osugahunnyicedtea @brayleigh14

(There were a few more blogs that I tried to tag based on the response to chapter one, but tumblr's messed up url search function kept telling me 'no blog found'🤨)

47 notes · View notes

geeky-politics-46 · 1 year

Text

COVID Cuddles

Pairing: Doctor Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: It finally got you! You are sick with COVID-19 and missing Stephen's cuddles

Warnings: reader has COVID, pandemic references, slight angst with fluffy happy ending, language

This fic is totally self-indulgent as i am sick with COVID right now & my Doctor Strange teddy bear is one of the things keeping me company. So I made it into a story. Probably lots of errors as I'm sick & drugged

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

You looked up at him in the doorway, masked fave peeking through, from where you sat on the bathroom floor. Tissues shoved up both nostrils as you waited for the bathroom to fill with steam from the shower before you tossed a Vicks vapor shower bomb under the water. Hoping that it would make it easier to breathe. Or at least make it sound like you didn't smoke 4 packs of cigarettes a day.

You had made it 3 years without getting COVID-19, but finally it got you. Despite the 2 original vaccines and 2 boosters. Your number eventually came up. You knew it would eventually. You just hoped the vaccines would make the illness shorter still.

"Well, I feel like I swallowed broken bits of light bulb, and I had a coughing fit so bad earlier I nearly puked. So I'm fucking fabulous."

They never mentioned a side effect of COVID was that it made you mean. Of course, maybe that was just you. You knew with your asthma you had to throw everything at this now just in case. So that was what you were doing. Currently waiting for your 6 hours between NyQuil shots with an ibuprofen chaser to elapse so you could top yourself up and get a good 3 hour nap before starting the waiting process all over again.

It made matters even worse that the moment you tested positive you basically became a leper. Stephen, Wong, and America banished you to the bedroom and adjoining bathroom. Wong even put up a quarantine spell that would alert them if you tried to leave the room.

You understood why. The Sorcerer Supreme and one of the Avengers getting severely ill probably wouldn't be a good thing. Much too tempting for the forces of evil. No one really knew if America could get COVID, having traveled the multiverse she probably had antibodies to things that didn't even exist in your world, but it was better safe than sorry.

Still though, a cuddle sounded really good right about now, and that was one thing Stephen couldn't give you. At least not until you were no longer contagious. You still had a couple days to go before that was even a possibility.

He was doing his absolute best to give you anything he thought you might need. Leaving trays and bags of food and medicine. Occasionally throwing in some candy or a random little treat he thought would cheer you up. He was trying so hard. Especially when you knew he wasn't exactly known for his bedside manner as a Doctor.

You hated snapping at him. You just felt genuinely terrible, and you knew that you just had to ride it out. For the most part, by yourself. It almost felt worse when he would check on you, knowing that you couldn't go hug him or even hold his hand without exposing him even more than you already had.

"I know you are miserable right now, and I know I don't have to keep bringing you all sorts of stuff beyond food and drugs. However, America showed me something that we both decided you needed. It's a friend to keep you company."

He reached inside and set down a large plain white paper gift bag. Stepping back and closing the door so you could move to get the bag, taking it back to your spot by the tub before looking in the bag.

As you peeked in the bag, you were immediately about to burst into tears. Inside was a fairly large brown teddy bear. What made it special though was that it was styled to look like Stephen.

It had blue eyes and a very dark brown goatee on its face. That alone was enough to make you giggle. The fact that it was wearing a version of Stephen's blue sorcerer's robes and it's own little Cloak Of Levitation attached to it's shoulders with velcro was just icing on the cake.

It was perfect. Soft and perfect size to snuggle while still being well formed enough that stayed looking like Stephen. Just Stephen in teddy bear form.

"Stephen, it's perfect! I love him so much! This is exactly what I needed. Thank you"

He peeked back through the door to see you already snuggling the bear tight to your chest. Happy tears on your cheeks and for the first time in days a smile on your face.

You couldn't see it behind his mask, but he was smiling too. So relieved that he could make you feel better even for just a little but. He figured you missed cuddling. He knew that he missed it. He had stolen one of your sweatshirts to snuggle, so he thought it was perfect when America showed him the bear.

Now once you were better, he might have a problem with the bear if he was there for you to cuddle instead. He would deal with that when the time came though. For now, he would share you.

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

Back to main masterlist

Stephen Strange Taglist: @starkiller-queen @glitterylokislut @verycollectivecreator @chatampr @maskmare931 @lovecleastrange @wheredafandomat @mkixx @evelynrosestuff @katefullerrr @littlepinknightmare @foofarny @stygianoir @moonroyalt @saturnsbabe69 @blaxdet @blackrose-92 @ironstrange1991 @rindulacre @nancy-thompsons @wolfatheartandsoul @dangerouslittlefairy @n0obmaster-69 @oliveoilthoughts @onebatch--twobatch @yourmajesty13 @blondekel77 @lil-sweater-slut @gwephen @taramaria @sinceimetyou @slashersrus @coeurgrenaty @cc13723things @just--a-magpie @supervengerslock @strangelockd @dont-feel-so-good-peter @kingsmanperfecthartwin @ghost-lantern @inlovewithloki16 @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @itssmaugtheterrible @katherinemaximoff @veryfancydoilies @cute-angi @mochacake2016 @prix19 @alexfanficnook @anotheroddfish @mando-is-the-way @xourownsidee @baes-x @dreamingsmile @negar77rd @imaginesfreetotake @ppatricia34me @rougepetale @tis-vereon @divinearchangel @sherlux @hiddlechive @ginnykate @thatesqcrush @friendofplenti @yuugenmomo @holdmyowos @the-royal-petals @lokislov3 @captaincarmel164 @lucimorningst4r @mydearalmira @petalcranberry @singhfae @emotionsareforuglypeople @trappedinlimbo15 @veryladyqueen @icytrickster17 @kentucky-criedfricken @briefhandsstudenttoad @calamityismyspecialty @sinisterstrange616 @patbrdac @trojanaurora @azu21 @massivehahaao3tree @strangesgirl

229 notes · View notes

dapetty · 23 days

Text

#bbc sherlock #johnlock #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock holmes #funny #ao3 #fan fiction

17 notes · View notes

ladycatashtrophe · 2 months

Text

In case anybody was wondering how tumblr is doing right now...

I've just had to explicitly tell this hellsite not to share my content with AI companies.

This is the same hellsite that primarily profits from unique skill and talent, usually manifested in fanart, fanfic, fandom inspired original creations, and whack job nuttery like the vanilla extract cake or Bendy Dick Cumber Bitch.

Only Real Human People make things like that. Or at least make them halfway decently, anyway. A lot of those Human People are queer, disabled, POC, or otherwise disadvantaged in some way.

So, go to your account settings, select "visibility", and make sure the prevent third-party sharing toggle is ON. It should be blue and/or to the right, depending on your system/app appearance settings.

Godspeed o7

11 notes · View notes

rainydaycafe · 11 months

Text

A Shaken Espresso, Please

Pairing: Professor! Stephen Strange au x OC fem! graduate school student (and barista)!

Summary: Professor Strange has a reputation that proceeds him and a finicky taste for off-campus coffee. Enter a graduate school attending barista. This is their story.

Warnings: age difference (older Stephen), and an inhumane amount of fluff with tumultuous thoughts

A/N: hope u enjoy and hope it alters ur existence- send me prompt requests for this story or others and I'll kiss u !

Chapter 2

Professor Stephen Strange had many reputations.

All of them were accurate descriptions of his person, admittedly. Even if a few of them were a bit hyperbolic and created by those students who were unable to properly keep up with the academic rigor his courses demanded.

Regardless of these various titles- arrogant, belittling, hardass, irritable, impatient, demanding, extremely intelligent, omnipotent, and plenty more- he was a damn good professor.

There was a reason why every semester he had an extremely long waitlist of students praying for a spot within his lecture hall and plenty of emails of students looking for a reason to jump the waitlist.

His ability to teach and to demand only the best was something that somewhat masochistic college students sought despite their better judgment because he truly was the best of the best.

Everyone knew that his reputation was hard earned as it was common knowledge that Stephen Strange had graduated high school and undergrad a year early. Excelling high above his elder peers in medical school and in his internship before there was an accident before his residency matching which caused him to settle into the life of a well respected professor at Dartmouth College.

Those who can’t do, teach.

Neuroscience was his playground, and the biological sciences department was just what he needed to teach courses full of the select few who would actually do well in their hopeful careers.

Despite his intolerance for laziness and inability to understand it- Stephen did enjoy teaching. It was always a plus to inspire the newest generation of the scientific community.

Emilia, however?

She was completely oblivious to the very existence of Professor Strange and that reputation that followed him around campus.

Stepping into Professor Barlow’s office on the third floor of the English department, she expected to receive the weekly quizzes Professor Barlow asked her to grade but instead she received the quizzes and a manilla folder.

“The manilla folder is more of a favor for me,” Barlow said, “Would you be able to take this to Professor Strange? It’s a transfer request acceptance. Since he’s the head of the biological sciences department, he needs to sign off on the approval like I did,”

“Oh sure,” Emilia said with a smile, “Where can I find him?”

“Oh shit what time is it even?” Barlow said pulling up his sleeve, “I don’t really know his schedule but if he’s not in his office on the fourth floor then he’ll preparing a lab, I believe,”

Emilia told him she’d find him and left Professor Barlow with a wave which he returned.

Professor Barlow was never meant to be the professor she TA’d for considering the fact that she had rescinded her application to be a TA after obtaining a better job elsewhere but apparently her email went unopened because a week before the semester she was the TA to the head of the English department.

He was kind, however, so she didn’t have the heart to just quit and leave him without a TA for a course he so desperately needed one for.

So she stayed and she was able to find the balance between her job at the cafe and as a TA quite easily since Professor Barlow wasn’t one to rely on TAs too heavily so she just did the little tasks he asked of her.

The biological sciences department wasn’t one Emilia had ever actually stepped foot in. Or near. So she had to bring up the campus’ map to find where it actually was which happened to be across campus so she made the trek.

The elevators happened to be commandeered by busy students so she huffed her way up the stairs and took a bit of a break leaning on a nearby wall to gather her breath because those stairs were no joke.

For a department so well loved and funded a person would assume their stairs would be less steep somehow.

Deep inside Emilia hoped he would be in his office because she wasn’t sure where the labs were so it would save her some time to find him somewhere that had a label with his name.

Now that she thought about it as she read the plaques outside of the doors, she had no idea what the man even looked like so she couldn’t even look for him in the labs…

Before she thought herself into a spiral, she read the name Stephen V. Strange PhD & MD on a plaque.

What could the V be for?

StephenVery Strange? That got a bit of a giggle out of her but she straightened up because it wasn’t kind to make fun of the names people had.

Emilia took a confidence boosting breath and knocked on the shut door.

And waited.

“Come in,” a deep voice said and Emilia grimaced a bit before opening the door to reveal a man typing away at his computer, not bothering to even glance up at her which was a bit rude perhaps.

“Are you here to have me read over your lab report for Navigational and Spatial Orientation?” He asked.

“Uh- no. I’m here for Professor Barlow. He asked me to bring this over to you,” Emilia said, waiting for him to actually look up from his computer to hand him the folder so she didn’t look like too much of an idiot.

He did, thankfully, and man was he handsome.

Taking the envelope, Stephen’s gaze lingered on Emilia, and she couldn’t help but feel like she was being studied and she moved her own gaze elsewhere towards the line of books placed on shelf as he opened the file.

“Mmm, yes, the student who is transferring his master’s from neurobiology to… English,” Stephen said as his eyes glanced at the words, “I got an email about this and meant to respond but I put it off long enough to just forget,”

Unsure of what to say, Emilia watched him quietly as he read through the words carefully. He had broad shoulders and nice hair. She quickly snapped herself out of those thoughts.

“You’re not a biological sciences student, are you?” Stephen asked, looking up from the paperwork to pay her his full attention.

“No, not at all,” Emilia answered with a shake of her head, feeling a bit nervous.

“I didn’t think so. I would have recognized you. What are you studying?” Stephen asked curiously as his eyes took in her features. Something about the way she seemed to curl under his attention made him want to give her more.

“English. I’m working towards my masters in English,”

“English. I never understood the appeal of sitting around and discussing what Keats meant in this poem or what was implied,” Stephen told her with a bit of a smile as he leaned back in his chair, “Seems like an endless discussion,”

“It’s not for everyone,” Emilia said with a shrug, not finding herself in the mood to defend her chosen career path.

It wasn’t the first time someone had spoken ill about her career, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“The sciences never caught your attention?” Stephen asked with genuine curiosity since he couldn’t imagine a life where it hadn’t caught his own full attention.

Emilia thought for a moment, attempting to find the words without being disrespectful towards Stephen’s career and studies as he observed her and got an eyeful.

“I was never very good. I barely passed high school chemistry and intro to biology in undergrad,” Emilia confessed, “I also don’t do well with math,”

Stephen huffed out a bit of a laugh, “You just needed teachers who taught well and thoroughly,” He said as he turned to grab a pen to sign off on the indicated line where Professor Barlow had helpfully highlighted in a bright pink circle he knew was meant to mock.

Considering the fact Emilia didn’t know how to add fractions or any math after long division, she knew she had always been a lost cause but there was no need to have him think she had even more shortcomings so she kept it to herself.

Shutting the folder, Stephen handed it to her.

“Tell Barlow that I wish Damien the best of luck reading all of those books and poems,” Stephen said, “He wasn’t up to neuroscience, I suppose it wasn’t for him,”

Emilia knew he was teasing her own words and despite her strong will to avoid it, she blushed and took the envelope and looked down.

“I will tell him, Professor. Have a nice day,” Emilia said with a smile and short wave that Stephen returned with amusement in his eyes before taking her leave and all but sprinting down the hallway towards the stairs.

Going down the steps, Emilia sighed a bit to herself.

There was something almost damning and humiliating when it came to finding someone unobtainable attractive but then adding the fact that they thought little to nothing of your major was really just the icing on the cake.

Looking up to the pretty blue sky, Emilia took a deep breath and decided she’d dwell on it while walking to work after dropping off the damn manilla folder to Professor Barlow.

Unbeknownst to her, Stephen was watching her from the window in his office with a smile as she made her way back to what he assumed was Professor Barlow’s office.

__________

“He actually signed it right away?” Professor Barlow asked in shock, his freshman English student who he had been helping sat quietly watching the conversation, “He usually takes at least two days and even then I have to chase him around,”

“He also said to tell you that he wishes the best of luck to Damien reading all of the books and poems,” Emilia told him.

“Yeah that sounds much more like Stephen. Curious that he actually signed it, but maybe he liked someone’s company,” Professor Barlow teased, but Emilia just smiled because she knew there was no way her presence in what had to be a holy office in the biology department would be enjoyed.

_____________

Pinching the bridge of his nose as he exited the lecture hall, Stephen glanced at the clock on the wall and saw it was definitely time for a bit of a caffeine trip because he had not had his morning coffee in favor of tutoring a student.

With two hours until his next class, he quickly made his way through the building without bothering to glance at anyone in the hall since they’d just serve to make his blossoming headache even worse.

The on-campus Starbucks and other cafes would be chalked full of students and faculty so he decided his expedition would take him off campus to a smaller yet much more reliable cafe he had discovered the year prior.

Modern enough to have their own versions of lattes but not enough to be a bit too obsessed with coffee for his liking and comfort.

It was a 25 minute walk at a leisurely pace but he had never been one to walk leisurely anywhere so he made it in 18 minutes as he ran through his 4pm Ethical Conduct of Research.

This week they’d be discussing the ethics surrounding research on larger more developed animals to say a rat or a guinea pig.

Pulling the door open, his eyes quickly attached themselves to the menu to consider his options.

He had always been partial to a black coffee but had come to the realization that espresso had more impact on him and his energy levels.

Their shaken espressos had always got him through even the most tiresome of days so he thought it’d be unwise to stray.

As Stephen was so busy weighing out his flavor options, he didn’t notice who was standing behind the bar munching away on a banana as she read through her weekly reading for Comparative Lit and Criticism during some down time.

Attempting to make sense of Adorno’s criticisms, Emilia was completely focused but she was soon losing her focus when she heard a familiar voice ordering.

A voice she had heard a few hours ago.

“Hello, could I have a large chocolate malt shaken espresso? I’ll add a splash of half and half as well,” Emilia stared at him from over the edge of her reading to see Professor Strange ordering.

Hoping he wouldn’t notice her at all, Emilia kept her head down as Eliza wrote down “Stephen” on the cup and she began pulling the shots of espresso from the large machine.

Taking the cup from her coworker, Emilia began to work on the drink and willed herself to not even spare Professor Strange a glance because she didn’t want to gather any unwanted attention.

Thankfully it seemed that he was busy on his phone so she relaxed a bit as she gathered the ice into the shaker alongside the malt powder.

Stephen however was not an oblivious man which meant after he had checked his work email he looked up to see the barista was utterly familiar.

The same girl from earlier was working here, as fate had it. He still didn’t know her name, however, as she hadn’t introduced herself and he couldn’t see a nametag on her apron.

Smiling to himself, Stephen moved closer to the bar where she shook the espresso and ice together with her back to him before turning around, startling when she saw him there.

“I had no idea you worked here,” Stephen said casually watching her ministrations.

“Yeah, I’m a modern day jack of all trades,” She said without thinking, pausing when she realized, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude. It was more of a joke,”

“I didn’t think it was rude,” Stephen reassured, “I don’t see a nametag and I didn’t get your name earlier,”

Pouring the drink into the cup, she glanced up at him with a smile before looking back down, “Emilia,”

“Emilia?...” Stephen asked beckoning for her last name.

“Pearson. Emilia Pearson,” Emilia filled in before glancing at the cup where h/h was written, “Did you also want milk or just a splash of half and half?”

“Just half and half, please,”

Stephen smiled as she grabbed the half and half from a fridge somewhere underneath the counter and poured some in, showing it to him to see if it was enough.

“That’s perfect,”

Snapping a lid onto his drink, Emilia willed any caffeine loving God to make the drink good so he didn’t have any other reason to think little of her.

Stephen swirled the drink around before taking a sip, giving an appreciative nod.

“This is delicious, thank you, Emilia Pearson,” He said genuinely, “Have a nice day,”

Waving bye, Emilia watched as he took his exit and she soon turned her attention back to her reading and banana, but her mind was elsewhere.

She would have sworn that it was like a curse she had to find people that would never give her a second look attractive.

It reminded her of having a crush on a celebrity that would never bat an eye if they crossed paths with you in real life. But it never hurt to have celebrity crushes either, nobody was at fault for them being so damn attractive.

It was impossible to deny that the man was handsome, though. His intelligence was evident, adding to his overall attractiveness and she had barely learned of his existence today so she did not want to imagine how bad her crush would be in a few weeks.

However she knew she could be grateful that she would probably never encounter him again and that she was probably a piece of dust in his overall busy mind and life.

Of course there was going to be the off chance of encountering him again when he came around to the cafe, but there was no point in getting her hopes up so she turned her attention back to the reading entirely since she had a discussion post to answer before midnight.

As she didn’t think of him, Stephen pressed the crosswalk button as he took a sip from his coffee and smiled to himself.

With his work and his overall attitude towards romance Stephen had never been too caught up on dating or finding a partner as he hadn’t ever considered it and it had never been at the forefront of his mind.

Which isn’t to say he was considering dating Emilia, but as he crossed the street he wondered to himself if she happened to have a boyfriend or girlfriend to whom she went home to. Someone she confided in and felt relaxed around.

He didn’t think he’d mind being that person either as he began running through the upcoming lecture he had to give, knowing he’d be receiving emails requesting clarifications on this and that.

____

The following day was normal and Emilia was grateful as she corrected freshman English quizzes during the gap she had between lectures.

While it wasn’t too fun having three lectures back to back on Thursdays, the gap between the second and third gave her a chance to finish off assignments. Plus it freed up her Fridays so it meant she was able to work 7-4 and have the weekends off.

Considering the fact that the quizzes she had graded were pop quizzes given as punishment for speaking when Professor Barlow was speaking, she didn’t think they were all that bad.

In less than an hour she had finished the quizzes alongside the notes Professor Barlow liked to add either commemorating students for doing well or giving some bit of advice if they didn’t do too hot.

After the quizzes she felt she was on the brink of starvation so she quickly threw together a salad while blasting music as she sang around her kitchen and waited for the chicken to finish up in the oven.

“Green eyes, fried rice, I could cook an egg on you,” Emilia sang along as she danced around her kitchen, Late night, game time, coffee on the stove, yeah,”

Sure her kitchen dance moves could use a bit of work but considering the fact that they had never seen the light of day as she had only ever gone to a club once, she thought they were pretty fitting for Music For a Sushi Restaurant

Pausing, she pulled out the chicken and thought about whether Stephen ever danced around his kitchen but chose to push those thoughts aside because one: she didn’t think he seemed like the dancing type, and two: those thoughts wouldn’t lead to a good outcome.

All said and done, she was comfortably in bed relaxing by 9:30 scrolling through her phone after having checked multiple times that her front door was in fact locked and that it hadn’t magically unlocked itself.

Living alone was nice, subletting was even nicer when she didn’t have to pay the full amount of rent and she got to live only a few blocks off campus and only three and a half away from the cafe where she felt she spent an equal amount of time.

Waking up wasn’t ever an enjoyable experience- save for when there was something exciting happening but that rarely if ever happened so Friday morning made her wish she could just roll over and continue sleeping through the morning and into the early afternoon.

However her job awaited and all things considered, she really did enjoy paying for life’s necessities.

Despite her lack of enthusiasm, Emilia showed up that Friday and went about her job without too much hassle throughout the morning bustle that eventually weaned itself out into a much more manageable afternoon hum.

The morning rush was always heavier on Fridays which kept her busy since Maggie, the owner, was manning the pastry and sandwich area and Nora was on cashier Emilia was on her own but at least the rushes made her shift go by faster.

Her busyness meant she went about making drinks without bothering to think about them too much unless they had an alteration which she made a mental note about to avoid having someone practically slam themselves into the counter because God forbid there was too much ice in their latte.

Not even a large, malt chocolate shaken espresso with a splash of half and half.

“Stephen?” Emilia called out, sliding the coffee onto the pickup counter before her thoughts stuttered as it put together the drink and name.

Looking up for what had to be the first time in at least half an hour, she saw Professor Strange heading over to the pickup bar.

He had been watching her busily make drink after drink, calling out name after name, not glancing up for a second.

“Professor. Hi. Hi Professor,” Emilia said dumbly.

“Hi Emilia,” Stephen greeted, “Your hair looks nice today,” He noted her hair which was pulled back in two… French? Braids aside from a few strands which framed her face nicely.

“Oh. Thank you. I like your uh- I like your pants,” Mentally, Emilia slapped herself.

Complimenting pants was for the girls, not the guys.

“Well thank you, I didn’t know you could see them over this glass you can barely see over,” He teased her shorter stature and she smiled a genuine smile before apologizing.

“Sorry, it was the first thing which came to mind but I’m sure they are nice,” Emilia said as she walked over to grab another cup her coworker had kindly placed on the cup when Stephen’s next words were interrupted by a woman rushing up to the counter.

“Excuse me, sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt you two but I forgot to ask for oat milk on my caramel latte. I’ll get back in line to pay for it but I wanted to let you know before you make it,” A woman said from behind him, causing him to move away.

“Is it for Stacy?” Emilia asked and the woman nodded, “Okay, I’ll make it with oat milk but you don’t have to pay, it’s okay,” She told her as she waved it off and wrote the change of the order on the cup.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw the line had decreased and it was only the person left who was ordering aside from a couple of drinks left for those waiting.

“Did you like your drink?” Emilia asked as she turned her attention back to him, “If you didn’t I can remake it. I didn’t know it was for you or else I would have paid more mind to it,”

Sipping it again, he shrugged.

“It’s good, but I can tell it wasn’t made with love like it was on Wednesday,”

“Let me remake it-” Emilia started but he cut her off.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” Stephen said with a grin, “It’s grand. Brilliant. You’re a lovely barista even when you don’t know it’s for me,”

Unable to find something to say, Emilia smiled bashfully and attempted to conceal her flustered complexion but Stephen was quick to see it.

“I have an undergrad intro course to teach in forty minutes, so I’ll see you soon,” Stephen explained as he glanced at his watch after feeling he had tortured Emilia enough but the flush on her cheeks was something he thought was cute. Sue him.

“Have a nice day, Professor Strange,” Emilia wished, and he wished her the same as he left with a smile.

The slight pep in his step made even the most tedious of courses seem not so bad since his coffee was great and he just felt giddy.

Emilia continued working, but every so often her thoughts would flutter off to Steph- Professor Strange and his presence in front of the bar that morning.

It had left quite the imprint on her mind and she couldn’t deny that.

However when she found herself getting a bit carried away with her thoughts and mentally admiring him for any reason, she caught herself and chastised herself for it.

Not only was the man a professor at the university she attended, she also knew well enough that she had absolutely no chance with him.

He was a professional and apparently in a league of his own so he wasn’t about to go around scraping the bottom of the barrel to date her or even consider dating her. It was useless to even think about it because it would only serve to disappoint her.

Professor Strange would never even think about her in such a way, she was just fooling herself with these tiny spurts of thought.

It wasn’t even funny to think about how little chance she actually stood.

But regardless, she still found herself smiling to herself when she thought about his smile and his teasing comments.

Work went by just a bit faster with that, and Emilia was grateful she was able to enjoy her weekend without a shift dragging on too much.

__________________

All things considered, Stephen did enjoy his profession. Regardless of the seemingly painstaking hours, faculty, and students it was truly as close to his dream as he would be able to get and it was one which commanded respect nonetheless.

Academia had never been his initial pursuit since right out of high school he did everything he could to be admitted into his top choice of medical school with as little delay as possible.

This was possible with both his work ethic and his eidetic memory at play, setting him well ahead of his peers and setting a good yet arrogant head on his shoulders because he was more than capable of succeeding in the medical world.

Internship had flown by, and as he had known since he was fourteen- he was meant to be in the neuroscience speciality specifically as a neurosurgeon.

That was until his car was flipped over at the age of 29 and his entire life was also flipped on its head like he found himself that Wednesday afternoon on his way to buy groceries.

Oftentimes when the accident had just happened and he was in recovery unable to bear the thought of looking at his hands he thought about what would have happened if he had just stayed home and made a sandwich with what was there.

But, like anything, it wasn’t enough and he needed more than what was already there.

Stephen knew that his accident sent a shock through everyone and he was soon in physical therapy attempting to overcome a tremor when he began deciding what was next.

Never having been wealthy, he needed to work somewhere but he knew it wouldn’t just be anywhere because someone with an MD and a PhD needed more than just a high school biology teacher.

There just wasn’t any way that he would allow years and years of painstaking work and sleepless nights go to waste all because one path had been blocked off by unforeseen circumstances.

Being a professor was his chosen plan “b”, but he had opted away from medical school because he knew that even medical school professors needed perfectly steady hands- especially in neuroscience.

While John Hopkins had been his home for a while, he didn’t want to stay there and just be a model of what happens when things go wrong.

It was true: those who can’t do, teach.

Stephen knew he was the perfect example of that but that didn’t mean he wanted to be needlessly reminded every 15 minutes by a curious freshman or an uppity colleague.

More than qualified, Dr. Strange became Professor Strange at the age of 29 (only a couple of months before his 30th birthday, but he still bragged) and he earned his reputation quickly and it was well deserved.

Stephen had never suffered fools, and becoming a professor was not going to change that.

The reputation soon began and followed him only a week after his first day when he had a student leave his classroom in tears after she was unable to recall what the hippocampus did as a future neuroscientist.

However Stephen had worked hard and he had encountered his fairshare of possibly demonic professors but they also happened to be the ones which shaped him into the surgeon he almost was and the professor he now was, so he stuck to it.

“I expect the discussion post to be answered by everyone tonight by midnight. I won’t accept late work. Have a nice day,” Stephen dismissed his lecture hall, praying to some force out there that nobody would stop to ask him about his opinion towards their drafted discussion post because he just wanted to get coffee before his next class.

Time was limited as when he checked only moments beforehand he only had an hour before his next lecture in an hour.

18 minutes to walk there and 18 minutes back needing to consider time to set up a couple of minutes before class… 24 minutes to get his coffee in between the two restricted times.

Thankfully he was able to make his exit painlessly and he found himself pulling the door to his favorite coffee shop only 15 minutes later, shaving off an entire 3 minutes.

Impressive.

Ordering his usual, Stephen was almost surprised to see Emilia out from behind the barista bar sitting at one of the tables with a few sheets of paper in front of her as she evidently corrected something.

A bit disappointed it wasn’t Emilia making his coffee, it soon disappeared as he went over and sat across from her, startling her.

“You’re out from the inside of your box,” Stephen said with a smile.

“Hi Professor Strange, I have a 20 minute break so I’m using it to finish off these quizzes for Professor Barlow,” She explained, “Freshman English is tough,”

Peeking over, he saw she had written a 62% in green marker at the top of the last test.

“62? Holy hell. I sure hope he isn’t a sciences major if he’s failing freshman English,” Stephen said, a bit of his arrogance slipping through, and for the first time in a long time he wished he had kept his mouth shut.

“It’s up from last time. He’s a good writer but he doesn’t test well,” Emilia attempted to defend with soft eyes, knowing that the transition into college level work was tough for some.

“Or he plagiarizes,” Stephen debated, “But I don’t think we should spend this time debating whether or not a freshman is using his brain. How are you? How has your day been? Any plans?”

This earned a smile from Emilia who set down her pen and rested her chin on her knuckles as she paid him his full attention which he really found himself enjoying.

“I am well, a bit tired, but my day has been pretty average. I’m off at 2 so I’m going to go home and take a nap because I couldn’t sleep well last night. After that I’m just doing some homework. Nothing crazy. How about you?”

Stephen pondered it as he looked at Emilia who waited patiently for his answer.

“I am also well and my day has been going well so far, although the lecture I taught before coming here dragged on a bit as early morning lectures tend to do but I have no complaints, much less now. After my last lecture which ends at 3 I’m going home to get ready for his PhD faculty dinner that I’m going to with Professor Palmer. Do you know her? She’s a microbiology and immunology professor,”

The intent listening expression Emilia had fallen, her hands dropping to the table where she grasped at her pen for the sake of doing something with her hands.

“No uh- I don’t really know anyone that’s a part of the science faculty aside from you,” Emilia told him as her gaze went down towards the table and for some unnameable reason, she felt out of her depth and foolish.

Stephen had noticed her change in demeanor and he didn’t know how he could change it back to how open and happy it had been just moments prior. He wasn’t given much time to think about it as his name was called from the pickup counter.

Taking this as her opportunity to leave, even if she still had 5 minutes left of her break, Emilia began cleaning up her papers as Stephen went to pick up his drink.

“Is your break over?” Stephen asked as he returned to see Emilia organizing her papers.

“Yeah, I have to get back into my box,” Emilia said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, placing the quizzes back into their folder before standing.

“I hope you have a nice time at the dinner and with Professor Palmer,” Emilia told him and Stephen felt desperate in a way, desperate to get down to the bottom of what had gone wrong and how he could fix it but time was not in their favor as they both needed to get back to work.

Stephen told her he’d return the next day but she wouldn’t be working. He settled onto Friday when he knew she would be working.

Again, Emilia smiled but it wasn’t that genuine smile he’d grown to enjoy but either way she bid him goodbye and turned to head back to work and he left to do the same although with a nagging feeling that wouldn’t go away.

The walk back to campus was thoughtful as Stephen tried to pinpoint the exact moment the conversation between them had gone to hell and how he could have been so foolish. It had been going well since Emilia had been open and smiling at him, paying him her full and devoted attention which was nice and suddenly like a book snapping shut; it was over and she had stepped back into her shell.

Placing the folder back into her backpack which she kept in the break room, she zipped it up with a bit more force than necessary but she needed to find a way to get rid of the stupid whirlwind of emotions that were overtaking her.

Grabbing her apron and retying it around her waist, she let out a deep breath because even if she felt frustrated she knew that at the end of the day, she was just really sad.

Ever since Professor Strange had come into the cafe and had made conversation with her, despite her better judgment, a part of her hand actually got her own hopes up about it all.

“What if” was a dangerous road to travel and Emilia had traveled it nonstop it seemed.

In an ignorant way, she had convinced herself that it all meant something. That he had been coming around because he wanted to talk to her and that he felt that little spark she felt between them but she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Of course, as an older, well respected, well educated professor he was going to be into people who were also on the same playing field. Not some graduate student who was working two jobs and spent her nights alone in her apartment.

Heading back out to the bar to relieve Maggie, Emilia thinks about how far out of her league the man is and how it’s actually a bit painful to think about again since it isn’t the first time she’s come to this realization.

New Hampshire was home to countless intelligent and beautiful women

Stephen wanted someone who was his equal, not an English master’s degree student who wore an apron to work and whose career path he evidently didn’t think much of.

Emilia’s career path was for her own sake because she loved the possibilities higher education in literature offered and she wasn’t about to start feeling remorse or as though it weren’t a good enough career path because of a ridiculous crush.

Even though she knew she was successful and was making her way in the world- it was still as disappointing to know that your feelings were not reciprocated both equally at 13 and 25.

Regardless of her emotional turmoil, however, drinks still needed to be made and caffeine was still a necessity so she got to work.

_______________________

By the time Friday rolled around and Emilia began getting ready for work she convinced herself that the way she was meticulously picking out her outfit for work was not because of any particular reason.

Okay.

So maybe the way she had pulled her hair back into a half up half down style with a clip that just so happened to perfectly match the light cardigan she was wearing which matched her shoes which had the jeans that made her ass look fantastic…

It was for her own sake, Emilia told herself because when she looked good she felt good.

It also did not hurt to look great when Professor Strange was going to come by. That was just a fun little addition to it all.

The assumption that he would come in around the time he had last time was correct and Emilia began pulling the adequate shots of espresso as soon as he began ordering, pretending to be nonchalant and feigning ignorance.

This wasn’t her strongsuit it seemed because Stephen had caught her glancing at him as soon as he stepped foot in the place but he thought it was sweet so he smiled to himself as it gave him the extra boost of confidence he needed.

Walking over to the bar, Stephen greeted her and watched as Emilia grabbed the shaker bottle.

“So if someone were to make you a coffee, what would it be?” Stephen asked.

“What?” Emilia asked in a way she found stupid because the question was clear.

“You know my coffee order,” Stephen said with a casual shrug, leaning his hip against the counter ever so slightly, “It’s only right I know yours as well,”

Emilia paused her movements as she thought about it.

The taste of coffee itself wasn’t all too appealing to her, and it had never been. A bit ironic with how she worked at a coffee shop but she did enjoy coffee drinks when they were creamy, sweet, and didn’t make her gag with the strength of the coffee.

From their own menu and, despite her support of small businesses, Starbucks- she always got a brown sugar shaken espresso with extra oat milk.

It hadn’t disappointed her yet and it was the perfect, most delicious-

“Look,” Stephen said with a nervous strain in his voice Emilia had never been privy to, watching as he shifted his weight uncomfortable, “I’m trying to ask you to dinner,”

Jesus Christ.

Who knew a person could be so dense?

“So, Emilia, will you go to dinner with me?” Stephen asked, “I’d like to talk without a counter between us or a time limit,”

The world seemingly narrows to the man standing in front of her. The professor she had encountered by just the chance circumstances life provided was all she noticed for that moment, even if in the back of her mind she knew that the cashier was watching intently and a few other lingering customers were watching because really, who didn’t love gossip? Plus Stephen had been exactly whispering.

The world is Stephen- tall, handsome, intelligent, confident Stephen who could probably have any person he laid eyes on wanted Emilia. Small, shy, thoughtful Emilia who often goes unnoticed but not by him it seemed.

Emilia opens and closes her mouth for a moment but she tells herself to get it together.

“I- yes,” Emilia finally said, “I would love to,”

The happiness that painted Stephen’s face was enough to light up a city block.

Was it weird how crazy she was about him considering she didn’t even know him? Maybe. But this wasn’t the time to dissect the inner workings of her affections.

In another world, perhaps a romantic comedy of sorts, Emilia would have left her shift right then and there to go out with Stephen. Stephen would have also abandoned his Friday lectures and office hours and they would have gone out together.

A lovely dinner would be shared with them where Emilia would open up and Stephen would also open up, breaking the ice and shaking off the seemingly permanent arrogant exterior he wore with everyone but her for the night. Maybe even forever.

But this was not that world.

“Do you live here or something? Can I have your number to contact you?” Stephen asks with the same smile.

“Yeah I live here under the counter next to the milk fridge,” Emilia responds without thinking, smiling as Stephen laughs but she’s grabbing the Sharpie from her apron and writing her number on a nearby napkin because cliches are cliches for a reason, sometimes. Practicality and all.

Emilia’s handwriting is neat, it’s cute, and it’s perfect.

Stephen’s fingers brush her own as he takes it, and they both somehow know it’s intentional so they both share an inside joke smile before Emilia readies his drink by snapping the lid on, sending him on his way with a promise to call.

The rest of the shift is spent with Emilia attempting to ignore her phone and pretending to ignore the seemingly unrelenting temptation to just sneak into the back like she knows everyone does to check her phone.

When given the opportunity to check her messages Emilia tries her best to ignore the cold disappointment when there are no missed calls or messages from a new number. While Emilia doesn't think that Stephen is the type of person to ask someone out and then ignore them, she also knows that she doesn’t really know him aside from his drink order and his profession.

Stephen could very well have plenty of phone numbers to pick and choose from as he pleases.

This thought dims her mood so she chooses to let it go in favor of wiping the counter off. Again.

Emilia couldn’t possibly know that Stephen had been staring at the napkin every opportunity he had gotten; saving the numbers on his computer, phone, and even writing it down on a sticky note he stuck into his wallet before his next lecture just in case.

The same number he had already successfully memorized.

It’s during her walk home after work when Emilia is planning out her evening’s dinner when her phone begins to vibrate in her backpack, excitement bubbling in her chest as she sees it’s from an unknown number.

“Hello?” Emilia answers, hoping she didn’t speak too quickly.

“Hi. Is this Emilia?” The familiar voice which is just slightly changed by a phone call asks, “This is Stephen. Boundary crossing professor and customer,”

“Hi Stephen,” Emilia says with a grin she can’t stamp down painting her face as she presses the crosswalk button.

“I hope this is an alright time to call, I just couldn’t wait any longer so I’m calling between lectures,”

“Oh,” Oh. “No, no that’s fine,” Emilia feels she’s capable of doing a cartwheel at that moment.

“I ended my last lecture early with the promise of it being so they could prepare for the midterm but I knew that they wanted to get of out there as much as I did so I did us both a favor,”

Emilia imagines Stephen rushing students out of his lecture hall as quickly as possible in order to call her seconds sooner.

“I’m glad you called,” Emilia confesses, briefly missing someone distracted from crashing into her.

“I am too,” There’s a pause and Emilia listens intently, “I don’t know your personal schedule but I know you don’t work tomorrow but are you free tomorrow afternoon?”

Tomorrow!! Emilia thinks. Less than a day away.

“I’m free,” Emilia has work to do for school but she knows she’d find time during finals week for Stephen.

“Perfect. There’s this restaurant, it’s a brewery as well. It’s on Wheelbridge. I’d like to take you there,”

While Emilia knows the area, not the restaurant. It’s not too close to home, but it would be okay.

“Okay. That sounds nice. What time?”

“Let’s do 2? I don’t want to interrupt you sleeping in and relaxing. Is that okay? I thought we could have lunch and then somewhere else not too far away,”

“That sounds lovely,”

“Great. Perfect. I will let you go because I’m sure you have things to do and I won’t be the reason you are distracted,”

Stephen didn’t know he was Emilia’s favorite distraction.

“Tomorrow, then?” Stephen asks, “2?” suddenly sounding hesitant, nervous almost. It didn’t suit him as he sounded unsure as if he needed to make sure it was happening and set in stone.

“2pm I’ll be there,”

“Okay. See you then. Bye, Emilia,”

“Bye-bye” Emilia says before they both hang up and she wants to body slam herself through the Earth’s crust because who says “bye-bye” unironically?

Instead of dwelling, Emilia saves his phone number carefully and there is absolutely nothing that can ruin her mood.

Not the way that the leftovers she was planning on having were spoiled, or the way she had forgotten to revise an essay, or even when she couldn’t sleep out of sheer excitement.

#Stephen strange #Doctor strange #Stephen strange fic #Doctor strange pic #doctor strange au #Stephen strange au #marvel fiction #doctor strange fan fiction #Stephen Vincent strange #doctor strange x oc #doctor strange fluff #Benedict Cumberbatch #doctor strange fix rec #Stephen strange fic rec #marvel #marvel fanfic

36 notes · View notes

jomarch-wannabe · 1 year

Text

Darling (Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes (Benedict Cumberbatch) x girlfriend!fem!reader

Synopsis: Sherlock’s way of comforting anxious reader

Warnings: Brief angst (depiction of anxiety), lots of fluff (pet names, cuddling, Sherlock being a teddy bear)

Author’s note: I wrote this fic when I was feeling upset and thought this is how Sherlock would respond. Let me know your thoughts!

P.S Reposting is allowed, just no copying :)

——————————————————————————

Sherlock’s hand rested on your lower back, guiding you out of the restaurant as John and Mary stood at the front desk to pay.

The door swung closed behind you as you stepped onto the pavement, heels clicking beneath you.

The night was cool and dark, illuminated by amber taxi lights and the red glow of a nearby stop light.

“John mentioned heading to the pub on 21st,” he started, staring off into the street as he pondered the idea. “Is this something you’re interested in doing?”

“Umm, not really..” you whispered under your breath, chewing your lip as your eyes trailed the scuffed up concrete.

His attention turned to you at the glum tone of your voice. The fallen slump of your shoulders and mindless picking of your fingers indicated to him that something was wrong. Though he still asked, “Is something the matter?”

You released your lip from your teeth, under his gaze, and swallowed thickly before answering, “I’m just, f-feeling anxious.” You admitted with a shaky breath.

His eyes dropped sympathetically as he reached for you, inviting you into his chest with an extended arm. You received the offer and wrapped your arms around his torso, holding him close. His large trench coat wrapped around your exposed limbs, sheltering you from the cool air.

“I don’t want to go,” you breathed against his chest. As you let it out a few silent tears slipped down your cheeks, dampening the cotton of his dress shirt.

His hand rubbed down your back in gentle vertical motions, before pulling back to look at you.

“It’s alright, we don’t have to.” He consoled in a soothing tone, tilting his head down to meet your gaze. “Alright?”

You nodded against your fingers, catching your falling tears.

As you did this the door swung open with a squeak. Your eyes followed Mary and John’s feet as they came into view under his coat.

Sherlock turned his head to face them, holding you with an extended arm. “I’m afraid we will not be making it to the pub tonight.” His voice vibrated against your ear. “Y/n isn’t feeling well.”

“Oh that is a shame,” Mary sighed in sympathy, voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. “I hope she feels well soon.”

John agreed with a hum before clearing his throat, “We better be off then.” His shoes turned with Mary’s as they walked down the street. “Goodnight.” He called back, as they disappeared into the distance.

Sherlock turned back to you once they were gone. His eyes studied your fluttering eyelids beneath him as he extended a hand out, catching the attention of a taxi driver.

You raised your head as the wheels rolled next to the curb. With the guidance of his arm you started for the yellow car, who’s door was open thanks to Sherlock’s chivalry.

His hand slid off your lower back as you ducked in the vehicle, sliding your bare legs over the leather seat until you reached the window.

He followed behind you, nearly folding in half from his height and shuffled next to you, pulling the door closed.

“221B Baker Street. Please.” He informed the driver who nodded with a polite grin, starting for the destination.

As the buildings rolled by in warped streaks, you scooted towards him, resting your head on his shoulder. A gap in his resting arm gave you an opening to slip your arm through. You wrapped it around his, playing with the tweed of his coat.

His scent was warm, like pipe tobacco and honey, comforting to the pounding heart in your chest. He lifted a hand to rest on yours, thumbing your knuckles softly as he periodically looked down at you.

“We’ll be home soon.” He whispered into your hair, as if he could read your mind.

You nodded against his chest, ruffling the fabric of his shirt.

————————————————————————

You foot tapped beside him in eagerness as he rattled the key into the door, unlocking the latch.

He twisted the brass handle, and pushed the door open, standing out of the way to let you in first.

You smiled flatly as you entered the dimly lit room, squatting down to unlatch the straps of your heels. He followed behind you, sighing contently as he closed the door with a click.

His keys jangled on the nearest table as he sat them down, flicking on the lamp next to it. The light illuminated the brick walls in an amber glow, bringing into view the familiar living space, scattered with annotated papers and open books.

“Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll make us some tea.” He offered with an affectionate tone, and a warm smile.

You stood with bare feet and nodded, getting lost in the reflection of his turquoise irises. After a moment of admiration you shuffled your coat off, which he took from your hands.

He hung it up on the rack behind you as you started for his red arm chair next to the fireplace.

The cushions seemed to swallow you whole as you sank into them with a sigh. Your eyes followed his black frame as he disappeared into the kitchen, concentration evident by the furrow in his brows.

The chair squeaked softly as you repositioned to tuck your knees to your chest, warming your cold skin.

Your eyes blinked slowly as you were able to relax in the comfort of your home, zoning out to the white noise of the clicking stove and pouring water.

“Here you are.” He announced upon entering the room, steadily holding two porcelain cups erupting with steam.

Your eyes lit up as you shifted forward, “Thank you.”

You received the cup from his hands, catching a glimpse of his sapphire blue eyes, and brought it to your chest. The herbal steam floated up to your face, relaxing the tension in your muscles.

You brought the beverage to your lips, taking a generous gulp. Your shoulders dropped as it’s sweetness hit your lips, filling your chest with warmth.

Through your brows you could see he did the same, consuming the drink with an indulgent sip.

“It’s a little quiet don’t you think?” He spoke, into the still air, crossing his leg over the other in a four shape.

Your brows furrowed at the comment as you lowered your glass to your lap.

“I suppose so.” Your eyes shifted as you took notice to the calmness of the room.

He reached his arm over for the end table, sitting the fragile dish down carefully. After uncrossing his leg he stood, striding over to his workspace.

You turned your head back to follow him as you took another sip of tea.

His back muscles shifted as he reached down, unlatching a case in front of him.

The drink slid down your throat after a slow swallow, intrigued by his behavior.

He turned around after obtaining an object, holding his cherry colored violin to his chin, and bow in his right hand.

Your mouth curled into an delighted smile as he walked back towards you, taking his place next to his vacant chair.

He positioned himself to play, raising his arm in a bent position. His eyes met yours momentarily, making your breath stop. With a steady exhale he let his eyes fall shut, as if the sheets were imprinted on his eyelids.

With the simple stroke of his hand the bow slid across the strings of the instrument, producing a deep vibrant sound.

He began to sway slightly as his fingers worked the strings, pressing and lifting in various spaces to his desired rhythm.

Your eyes stayed fixated on him, entranced by his graceful and calculated movements.

As the sweet melody engulfed the air your shoulders dropped, finding yourself more and more relaxed.

With weak hands you lifted your drink to your lips, finishing off the last of the herbal broth and sat it aside the end table.

He continued to play as you rested your head in your hand, slowing your blinking.

The serenade of his music combined with the earthy tea soon coaxed you into a sleepy daze, until your mind was elsewhere.

————————————————————————

The gentle touch of two hands on your shoulders stirred you from your dreams. Your eyes blinked open slowly with a soft groan. As you rubbed them Sherlock came into view. His clothes changed to a black robe and striped blue and white pajama pants.

“You fell asleep darling.” He whispered, smoothing his thumb over your shoulder.

“Hmm..” you moaned in exhaustion, closing your eyes as you head dipped in your hand.

“Can I help you?” He asked softly in a kind tone.

You nodded against your hand with shallow breathing.

With your permission his firm arms scooped under your curled up frame, huffing slightly as he lifted you off the coach.

Your head rolled into his shoulder involuntarily as he carried you to the bedroom, bouncing slightly as his feet pattered against the wooden floor.

The soft covers engulfed your body as he carefully lowered you on the bed. The air was cool, making you squirm slightly as goosebumps raised on your skin.

“Need my pajamas..” you whispered in a barely audible sleepy voice, head lolling to the side in exhaustion.

“I’ll get them darling,” he reassured, sliding the dresser drawers open and retrieving your nightgown.

The warm touch of his fingertips made you sigh as they pulled down the straps of your dress, shuffling down your clothing until you were in your undergarments.

He scooped a hand under your back to lift you up, and pulled the gown over your head, gently adjusting it to fit your body.

In the new position you breathed him in, resting your head on his shoulder. Your closeness made his cheeks flush with happiness.

With the guidance of his hands on your waist you laid back into the covers, nudging your head on the pillow as you got comfortable.

He followed, walking around the other side of the bed to lay next to you. The mattress dipped with his weight as he slid under the covers, pulling them over you both as he sighed heavily.

Your breathing slowed in the comfort of his body, warming your chilled skin.

“Goodnight darling,” he whispered against your hair, placing a kiss on your temple.

You hummed at the feeling, rolling to face him and wrapped an arm around his torso.

“Goodnight..” you whispered back, fingers rising with the pattern of his breathing.

——————————————————————————

Read my other Sherlock fic here!

#sherlock holmes #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock holmes bbc #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes fic #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes fluff #sherlock holmes x fem!reader #fan fiction #x reader #x you #x yn #comfort #anxienty #darling #britishmen #british actors

93 notes · View notes

venussaidso · 23 days

Text

Very interesting the connections that Ketu and Jupiter has with Frankenstein's monsters.

In the upcoming film "Bride" Jessie Buckley will play the Bride of Frankenstein and Christian Bale will play Frankenstein's monster.

Both are Ketuvian. She's Mula Sun, and he is Ashwini Moon. The film is made by Maggie Gyllenhaal who is a Vishakha Sun.

Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller in (National Theatre Live 2011) "Frankenstein" interchangeably play the Creature (Frankenstein's monster) and Victor Frankenstein. Benedict Cumberbatch is an Ashwini Moon and Jonny Lee Miller is a Vishakha Sun.

The play was literally directed by Ashwini Moon Danny Boyle.

In the film "Lisa Frankenstein", Magha Ascendant Cole Sprouse plays a corpse from the Victorian-era who was resurrected to life (named Creature, commonly being Frankenstein's monster), and his love interest is played by Shatabhisha Moon Kathryn Newton as Lisa Frankenstein. The film is directed by Punarvasu Moon Zelda Williams.

Cole Sprouse's character reminds me of Emily the Corpse Bride from the film "Corpse Bride", voiced by Magha Moon Helena Bonham Carter and the movie being made by Magha Sun Tim Burton.

What I found so interesting was how the internet is intuitively sensitive to Ketu energies as they have connected Laura Harrier to this character in online fan-casting. Laura Harrier is literally an Ashwini Moon.

In the film "Van Helsing" Frankenstein's monster is now played by a Jupiterian instead of a Ketuvian. Purva Bhadrapada Sun Shuler Hensley.

Purva Bhadrapada Moon Daniel Radcliffe, though he plays Igor, Frankenstein's sickly hunchback assistant, in the film "Victor Frankenstein". And in this film it is Ashwini Sun James McAvoy who played Victor Frankenstein.

And Tim Burton's "Frankenweenie" animation movie, it is Mula Moon Charlie Tahan who voices young Victor Frankenstein who resurrects his dog.

Purva Bhadrapada Moon Jacob Elordi will be playing Frankenstein in Guillermo Del Toro's retelling of the story, ultimately replacing Purva Bhadrapada Ascendant Andrew Garfield who was up for the role. AND Purva Bhadrapada Sun Oscar Isaac will be playing Victor Frankenstein.

Link to article

A couple of years ago, I remember Scarlett Johansson was in talks for a "Bride of Frankenstein" movie, and this was never heard of again. I doubt the project has been finalized or proceeded, considering the fact that it's been four years now. But still noteworthy as she is Vishakha Moon so perfectly fits this post.

Vishakha Sun Emma Stone stars in the film "Poor Things", based on a book with the same name which is a clever feminist retelling of Mary Shelley's known work.

A film quite aligned with "Poor Things" is actually "Frankenhooker", being that the 'Creature' is a victimized female, starring Punarvasu Sun Patty Mullen who plays a girlfriend accidentally killed by her scientist boyfriend and is resurrected by him with the use of her head and separate body parts of deceased prostitutes.

This film was literally directed by Magha Sun and Purva Bhadrapada Moon Frank Henenlotter.

Mary Shelley, the creator of the tale of Frankenstein, was a Mula Moon and Ardra Ascendant, a gothic novelist whose work is considered one of the earliest work of science fiction 🖤

Literally went into more examples about Ketu's connections to transcendence, life, death, resurrection etc. in part 2 of my Ketu exploration. And also my vampire post.

127 notes · View notes

victimsofyaoipoll · 7 months

Text

Round 4

Joan Watson

How were BBC Sherlock shippers so rancid about a WOMAN who wasnt even in the SAME SHOW?????

Martin Freeman of BBC Sherlock insulted Elementary and specifically Lucy Liu in the press. He straight up called Lucy Liu a "dog" in an interview APPARENTLY as a joke, because calling female actors ugly is hilarious. Benedict Cumberbatch was more measured about it, but he still said he was cynical about Elementary because it would lose the "male friendship" dynamic, which of course Johnlock shippers used against Joan Watson fans. Even the lead BBC Sherlock actors got in on the yaoi victimization of Joan Watson... 😔

she wasn't even in the same SHOW as the yaoi I've been convinced she deserves to win the entire poll. I was a Johnlocker but I did watch the first season of Elementary and it was fine????? It was totally okay????? Especially in hindsight given how hard Sherlock season four flopped. Also Lucy Liu is a queen and deserved zero vitriol for *checks notes* playing a character???? A fucking fictional character???????? Oh my god we were all SO mean to this show and we (or at least I) thought it was like The Good Fight™️, like we were defending BBC Sherlock against copyright infringement and straightwashing and Jonny Lee Miller's bizarre scarf, (it wasn't a good scarf I do stand by that) but then Elementary didn't make Holmes and Watson a couple either???? And also it didn't insult its audience constantly etc etc we've all seen the Hbomberguy Sherlock is Garbage video. This is really long sorry hashtag justice for Joan Watson.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime.

#round 4 #poll #joan watson #cbs elementary #elementary #misa amane #misa misa #death note

204 notes · View notes

strangelockd · 1 year

Note

How about a smut or fluff whatever you like with Sherlock x reader where the reader is in her early twenties so alot younger than him. But is in head over heels for Sherlock? And he also feels things for her ?

I don't know if this makes sense 😂

Just An Experiment

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Synopsis: You're playing a game with Sherlock when suddenly he has something else on his mind.

Word Count: 646

Warnings: Slight Age Gap, Mutual Pining, If You Squint Enough There Is Some Smut, Thigh Riding, Heavy Petting/Kissing

A/N: Sorry this was a day late I had some family drama. I hope this was worth the wait. I like to think Sherlock is a Nintendo guy.

“I win!”

At least that’s what it felt like until you heard Sherlock give out a small snicker.

“And whats that supposed to mean?” Your voice slightly annoyed as you sat the nintendo remote down.

Sherlock raised a smile from the corner of his plush lips stating flatly, “It means that I let you win y/n”

Rolling your eyes, you scoff crossing your arms sinking deeper into the leather couch. Sherlock was always a poor winner, but he was more insufferable when he was losing at times. How can a 34-year-old man be such a baby…

“Oh, come on” giving him a playful shove with your foot “lets play something else, I guarantee I’ll kick your butt again old man”

His eyes widened, “I’m only 10 years older than you y/n” he responded calmly.

“Ya which makes you an old sore loser,” you tease deeper reaching for your glass of red wine, “so how about it” taking another sip setting the glass down, “care for another match?”

You notice him setting his remote down slowly on the armrest, “No, I don’t feel like playing that anymore. I have…something else in mind,” Sherlock eyes now trailed to you with that look, the look that makes your stomach flutter and flip all at once. He clearly didn’t want to play Mario Kart anymore.

Everything was happening so fast now that you didn’t even realize Sherlock was now sitting much much closer. Heart beating faster, you watched him lean in ever so slightly testing the waters of comfort and space. You always had a crush on your friend, but as the years progressed it has become increasingly obvious of your infatuation for each other. So much so that there have been times were you yourself had to shake it off or at most shove the feelings down and put them back on the shelf. Besides, theres no way a genius like Sherlock Holmes would ever go out with a younger woman in her early twenties.

Eyes widening, you stammered feeling your cheeks flushed a deeper red, “Sh-Sherlock wa-what are you doing?” You whisper softly.

He leaned in facing closer, smelling the slight hint of cigarettes and coffee from his breath. He leaned in, your lips just a hair from each other, “Just an experiment…”

Feeling his breath on your cheek caused the hair on your neck to stand as you closed your eyes welcoming the contact, his lips were warm and inviting causing a weakened sigh to emit from your throat. They parted slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside, the taste of cigarettes and coffee was hypnotizing. His kisses gave promise as your bodies pressed together heatedly against the leather sofa as you bit his lower lip gently causing a grunt to release from Sherlocks chest; he clearly was enjoying himself.

Breathing heavily as your lips pressed together you rolled onto his lap grinding your needy heat against his groin. He rolled his head back in pleasure as you continued your rocking motions; taking the advantage to unbutton his dress shirt leaving his toned frame exposed.

Threading your fingers through his soft curls to tug his head forward as your lips clashed once more. He could taste the wine on you, feel the thud of your combined heartbeats as you both fought for dominance.

Finding his fingers groping underneath your shirt as he flipped you on your back making you squeak, his perfect form towering over you as he pulled away. His eyes glowing a bright green in the dim light.

“Shall we continue with the game?” He asked coyly.

Shaking your head, you pull him in for a deep kiss, “no, I would rather have you”

He gazed into your eyes, a warm smile cascading over his face as he stroked your cheek placing a tender kiss upon your lips.

“You’re going to be the death of me y/n”

Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! It inspires me to keep writing. If you want to be tagged in future posts be sure to leave a comment.

A special thanks to the followers who requested to read more of my work. Your all very special to me <3

Back to Main Masterlist

@bakerstreethound @sassenach-on-the-rocks @sherlux @budugu @cemak @blxckdragonfly @seanbeansimp59 @geeky-politics-46 @classickook @sobeautifullyobsessed @doctorstrangeaskblog @withalittlehoney @icytrickster17 @kentucky-criedfricken @hunterofshadows04 @baharnoth @katehawke @thealleydog @stewardofningishzida @lady-harvey @asherloki @withalittlehoney @moonlover-tobefree @dino-fart @deepbatched @purplefeathersandblackleather @marvel-writing

#bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfic #sherlock bbc #sherlock #benedict Cumberbatch fan fiction #benedict Cumberbatch fan fic #sherlock fan fiction #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock x reader #sherlock smut #sherlock fluff

294 notes · View notes

sobeautifullyobsessed · 19 days

Text

'It's Not the Years, Honey - It's the Mileage'

a Whumped Doctor Strange one-shot

Inspired by a couple of pre Multiverse of Madness articles comparing Stephen Strange to Indiana Jones😉😁

genre: whump, hurt/comfort, light humor

rating: general audience

characters: Stephen Strange, Tess O'Neill (Healer of Kamar-Taj, OFC); established relationship; Cloak of Levitation

word count: 1.9k

It was supposed to have been date night, but Stephen was overdue. Three hours overdue. Again. Tess had taken these things in stride, right from the start. After all, you can’t be lucky enough to be the significant other of the Sorcerer Supreme without being incredibly patient, understanding, and flexible. Besides which, he was always so adorable when he finally found his way home, sincere in his apologies, and more often than not, presenting her with a fresh bouquet, which he managed to conjure even before he uttered a single word. Tonight’s transgression was bound to be a two dozen roses mea culpa--and she just knew he’d make them her favorite: pale pink American Beauties.

Not that he ever needed to. His company was dear enough recompense for any time he kept her waiting. Except for the worrying, of course, but Tess had quickly adjusted to that, and so far she hadn’t made any complaint, no matter how late her Stephen managed to show up. She’d rather spend their precious time on more pleasant pursuits--and on showing him however she could, how happy he made her simply by being...him.

And so, Tess had adjusted down their plans. First, from dinner out and a movie, to take-out and the latest blu-ray release. And then from that, to something she could whip up, quick and easy, in the Sanctum’s smaller kitchen. Stephen was bound to be hungry when he arrived, and she had a hearty pot of stew simmering on the stove and a batch of honey cornbread ready to pop into the oven while he cleaned up.

Tess had just given the stew another stir, when she felt a tapping on her shoulder. She turned to find Cloak looking battle singed and...well...harried. How this being without a face could express such a wide range of emotions was a continual wonder to her--but right now her immediate reaction was to ask if Stephen was alright.

Cloak’s collar shook a clear ‘no’, and then it tugged at her arm, to get her moving. She turned off the stove and moved the stewpot to another burner, and followed Cloak down the grand staircase. And there sat Stephen on the third step, head bowed and shoulders hunched, his bloodstained tunic rent in several places. Tess’s heart leapt to her throat, though she tried to remain calm, realizing that he needed her as a Healer tonight, far more than as the woman who loved him.

She dropped to one knee in front of him, noting that the shelf of his jaw bore a dark bruise, and that he had a nasty cut across the bridge of his nose, a black eye and a split lip. “Hey,” she said softly, reaching her sure hands towards him, studying his wounds with practiced eyes, evaluating which she should address first. Thankfully, the blood on his clothing was dried, so that Tess concluded he wasn’t actively bleeding. “What happened,” she asked quietly, concerned to see him breathe shallowly, as breathing any deeper appeared to make him wince.

“You don’t wanna know,” he muttered, as she placed both of her palms on his chest and closed her eyes, searching for any internal damage.

“Ow...ow...ow...owwwwwwww,” he grumbled, “Is this really necessary?”

Cloak was flitting back and forth, giving the closest approximation of pacing as possible. “It certainly is, as well you know...Doctor.” To that he only grunted, then followed with a heavy groan when she palpated his lower ribs and abdomen. “Stephen,” she informed him patiently, “You’ve got at least three cracked ribs...”

“I know,” he replied curtly, “Don’t you think I know that?”

Tess tried to placate him. “Of course you do--but there’s no need to be pissy about it. It’ll just take a simple healing spell to start them knitting properly together.”

“I...know,” he repeated through gritted teeth, attempting to stand. Cloak had to swoop in to keep him from landing hard on his bottom.

Tess rose and wiped her hands on her denim capris. “Cloak, can you get him up to the infirmary, so I can take care of him properly?”

Cloak nodded, but Stephen had other ideas. “No infirmary--just get me to my room...”

Honestly, doctors really do make the worst patients, she thought, although she held her tongue, telling Stephen instead, “Nope. It’s the infirmary for you.” He huffed, but didn’t speak up. “And that’s Healer’s orders, Stephen. I outrank you in this, at least for the moment...”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled dismissively. He handed her his sling ring, “We can portal there--it’ll be quicker and a less bumpy trip than relying on...” He wagged his head in Cloak’s direction.

Tess had to suppress a chuckle, as Cloak’s reaction to that perceived insult was to turn its back to Stephen. “Alright,” she sighed, slipping his ring on and bringing the golden circle to life. She returned to his side and offered him a hand to help him stand up. “Just lean on me, and we’ll be there in a jiffy.”

She could feel his aversion to appearing so needy, even as he braced himself with an arm across her shoulders, but knew well that it wasn’t on her account. Stephen generally disliked showing weakness to anyone, although as their relationship had blossomed, his trust in her had been enough for him to reveal much of what he hid from the world behind sarcasm and bravado. Tess had always taken such precious trust as both a privilege and an honor. Stiff lipped against his pain and leaning on her heavily, they hobbled through the portal and Tess led him to sit on the nearest bed.

The infirmary was empty but for them, and she took a moment to close the portal, and then rushed to gather her supplies. Disinfectant and a basin of warm water, along with a washcloth and the softest, fluffiest towel she could conjure, for after she got him cleaned up. And bandages. Lots and lots of bandages. Tess returned to Stephen’s side to find him struggling to remove his tunic. She set down her things, telling him, “Here...let me...”

“I’ve...got...this.” he grunted, though it was clearly hurting him to raise his arms above his head.

“No. No you don’t,” she corrected him gently, “Please--just let me do my job, Stephen.”

“Alright...alright...” He did his best to relax as she worked the garment over his head and off. Tess gasped at the network of contusions across his shoulders and upper chest. “Dammit, Tess...that hurts!”

“I know, darling. I know.” To her relief, most of his bruises appeared superficial. “Let’s start by getting you cleaned up, okay.” Stephen nooded, and closed his eyes as she washed the cut on his nose, and several shallow scratches on his cheeks and chin, finally seeing to the split on his lower lip.

Next, she addressed the wounds on his back, circling behind him and perching on the edge of the bed. She was relieved again to find that they were rather shallow as well, and made quick work of cleansing them. Tess chose that moment to speak to him as his woman, rather than as a Healer. “You know--you’re extremely fit for a man your age, darling. But it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more careful out there.”

“It’s not the years, honey...” he snorted, “...it’s the mileage...” Stephen had stiffened despite her gentle approach, but when she applied the disinfectant, he hissed out a string of very un-Stephen-like curses.

“Don’t be such a baby,” she muttered, her patience beginning to strain.

“I’m not,” he responded petulantly.

Coulda fooled me, she thought, but bit back that retort. A few minutes more and she had his wounds properly bandaged. Tess set aside the basin and the towel, telling him, “Now let’s see about those ribs. Do you think you can lay back? It’ll be easier that way.”

“Of course I can,” he barked, “I’m not an invalid, you know.”

No, you’re just the crankiest Master of the Mystic Arts that I've ever encountered. Bravest and most selfless too, so I suppose I can forgive your churlishness.

He winced when she placed her hands on his shoulders, helping to ease him onto his back. Closing her eyes again, she skimmed her hands above the skin covering his damaged ribs, whispering the charm needed to bolster his body’s natural healing ability. Satisfied that she had succeeded once she could feel the spell take root, Tess pulled her hands away and opened her eyes. Stephen’s were closed, and his face had gone slack with a look of relief. Good enough, she concluded, hoping he would sleep a long while to aid in healing.

Still, she thought she could do a little something to speed the reduction in the nastiest of his contusions--and it would be best to try while he was asleep. She reached tentative fingers to Stephen’s right shoulder. His eyes flew open with a start, “Owwwwww...that’s still tender, you know!”

“I’m just trying to help...”

“Well...I don’t need a nurse anymore,” he groused, “I just want to sleep.”

“If you let me see to these now, you’ll feel much better in the morning...” Tess trailed her fingertips along his jaw, channeling her own energy into relieving his pain. “Any better?”

"A little,” he pouted, “But it hurts...almost everywhere...”

There seemed to be no pleasing him this way--but still, it was her nature to try. Exasperated, she blurted out, “Well, dammit, Stephen--where doesn’t it hurt?”

Looking defiant, he showed her his elbow, “Here.” Tess laid the softest kiss she could upon it.

“And...and here,” he added, pointing to his forehead, his whole demeanor softening in response to her tenderness. Cautiously, Tess leaned in and planted a loving kiss there. Momentum had turned in her favor.

Stephen pointed to his un-blackened eye, “Um...here?”

Tess smiled softly, watching his eyes flutter shut, and then brushed her lips as lightly as she could upon his eyelid. There was a moment as her face hovered over his, and the look when he opened his eyes made her heart start to melt--for within their mercurial depths, she saw both gratitude and an apology for his childish behavior. Stephen tapped his lips and murmured, “Here.”

She wondered if he felt her indulgent smile as their lips finally met, but before too long their kiss had gone from chaste to something deeper and more enduring, as he relaxed completely under her loving ministration. When she finally pulled away, Tess found that her kiss had worked a magic of its own, and her beloved Stephen was out like a light.

Tess arose and draped the sheet across him lightly, then levitated the next bed over and landed it flush against his. Her hunch was that he’d sleep through the night, but she wanted to be close by if he should need her.

Come morning, she awoke to find him gone--can’t keep a good Sorcerer down for long, she mused--but in his place, he’d left three dozen pale pink American Beauties, and a small piece of handwritten parchment. It was brief but to the point:

Thank you, honey. For everything. Love - your Stephen xx

tagging: @hithertoundreamtof23 @stewardofningishzida @ironstrange1991 @mousedetective @aphroditesdilemma @icytrickster17 @groovyqueer @battledress @aelaer @mckiwi @couldntbedamned

40 notes · View notes

kierrasreads · 5 months

Text

A Study in Scarlet (Sherlock Holmes #1) by Arthur Conan Doyle Review

Plot

Our first meeting with Sherlock Holmes. And John Watson's too! The young doctor is astonished by Holmes' many idiosyncrasies, including his talents on the violin.

But it's not long before Sherlock Holmes, with Watson in tow, is working with Scotland Yard investigating the murder of two Americans whose deaths have some mysterious connection to sinister groups gathering power in both Britain and America.

Here's where it all began, 'A Study in Scarlet.' Meet Sherlock Holmes, one of the world's leading consulting detectives - fictional of course!

Discussion

We meet again, Mr. Holmes! Like many fans of this iconic detective, my first introduction to him was through the BBC adaptation of the series, starring Benedict Cumberbatch. I was obsessed with this show! Then, my interests shifted and I left this British character in the past. My interest in the series got ignited again fairly recently. One day after work, I was browsing the Roku channel and saw that the platform had many Sherlock Holmes films from 1939, with Basil Rathbone portraying Sherlock Holmes and Nigel Bruce portraying Dr. John Watson (I believe all 14 films from this series are available on Roku). Anyway, the point is that I decided to read the Sherlock Holmes novels again and stick to them this time. This first Sherlock Holmes story totally captured my interest. The first part of this novel (Dr. Watson's reminiscences) proved to be fairly interesting and I was surprised at how fast Sherlock Holmes was able to solve the case.

The second part of the book focused on Jefferson Hope's past and took place in Utah (I'm sure some of you can see where this is going). I was utterly shocked at the portrayal of the Mormons, especially Brigham Young. I'll admit, I know next to nothing about Mormonism, its history, etc., but the whole second part of the novel read as..well..anti-Mormon. I couldn't help but wonder if Doyle had a grudge against the religion/group in general, or used this as an opportunity to let his grievances be known, but let's just say that I was relieved when Jefferson Hope finished his story and the focus shifted to the trail/conclusion. I'll have to research to see why he chose this particular lighting to portray the Mormons (of course, I realize that every story with revenge and murder must have a villain, otherwise it would be a completely different type of novel).

That's all I have to say about that! It was a good, brief read that got me back into the Sherlock Holmes fandom.

Rating

5/5

#kierra's reads #bookblr #sherlock holmes #john watson #a study in scarlet #dr john watson #arthur conan doyle

16 notes · View notes

daziechane · 2 years

Text

The First Rule of Fanfiction

1983

2nd period Social Studies class. I slid the notebook to my friend Bethann, hoping the teacher wouldn’t notice. Scratchy writing in cheap ballpoint pen interspersed with amateurish drawings of elaborate wedding dresses.

“Nick asked me last night,” it started. The writing was my first fanfiction, Real Person Fiction (RPF), detailing Nick Rhodes’ proposal of marriage and my subsequent wedding planning. There was going to be lots of lace, lots of giant sleeves, lots of eyeliner, and lots of hairspray. And it was all going to be teal. To offset Nick’s (at the time) bright orange hair.

While I was proud of my story, and of the accompanying illustrations, there was no way I wanted anyone but a select few people to see it. I took a huge risk in showing Bethann during class, what if the teacher had taken it and read it? Instant death by mortification.

***

2013

Sherlock S3 preview event, with a Q&A led by Caitlin Moran. Cast and crew were in attendance, and Moran pulled out some fanfiction for the leads to read. “Moran reportedly tricked stars Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman into reading aloud an explicit work of erotic Johnlock fanfic that Moran had gleaned (read: taken without permission) from the fan-run Archive of Our Own. Moran assured the two actors that the excerpt she wanted them to read was purely innocent. But as the actors read the scene aloud, as london-reviews reported, “it was clear it wasn’t as innocent as she kept making out.” (https://www.dailydot.com/unclick/sherlock-fanfic-caitlin-moran/) (emphasis mine)

But it was all in good fun, right?

Except it wasn’t.

"As for mildredandbobbin, the author of the now-famous fanfic, she was mortified. As condolences and support from horrified fans poured in, mildredandbobbin reacted in a heartfelt post on her Tumblr. 'I hope Caitlin Moran understands that she was hurtful and unprofessional, that in fact she used her position of privilege to belittle and humiliate,' she wrote. '[T]he one bit of contact I have with them, and it’s about humiliation and mockery.' She also deleted her fanart Tumblr out of fear that it would be more widely seen."

"Mildredandbobbin told the Daily Dot via Tumblr that she was 'appalled' that Moran had used her work 'for cheap laughs.' "

It was a highly inappropriate thing to do to them, it was extremely hurtful to me and it was terrifying for a lot of other writers in fandom to think it could have been their work being paraded around for ridicule and criticism. Fandom is supposed to be a safe space for women and we would appreciate it if journalists could respect the fourth wall and stop using our work to get a laugh during interviews.

(ibid)

Mildredandbobbin hasn’t shared any writing on Archive of Our Own since her work was stolen by Caitlin Moran.

In addition to the author being mortified, it appeared that the stars were as well. Photos and video taken after the event show a distraught looking Cumberbatch being comforted by both Freeman and Amanda Abbington. (video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLCpPUpBWPk)

***

2022

In an announcement released on June 24, 2022, Channel 4 (@C4Press on Twitter) announced that it “has commissioned a new comedy entertainment series from RDF seeing celebrities reading steamy fan fiction acted out by a cast of lookalike puppets.” (https://www.channel4.com/press/news/mel-giedroyc-invites-celebrities-really-really-rude-puppet-show-wt-channel-4)

While details are scarce, Ao3 users report having been contacted through comments like “Hi there, I’m currently working on a new TV show for all about fanfiction for a major UK broadcaster. We really enjoyed reading your work, and would love to speak to you about it, and explain a bit more about our show and see if you’d be interested in being involved.”

There are so many things wrong with that, starting with the fact that soliciting works in that manner violates Ao3’s terms of service. Other fans have questioned whether or not permission will be given to use existing works, or if authors of the “commissioned” works (see C4 press release, linked above) will be paid.

Many fanfiction authors are young, or queer, or identify as female, or are young, queer AND identify as female, and that adds another layer of wrongness to this proposed “collaboration.” Youth is a time for exploration and discovery, and writing fanfiction is a great way to figure out who you are and how you occupy your place in the world. Having your exploration put on a national stage like that can be devastating. Thinking back to my own youthful and innocent wedding planning- I never in a million years pictured a scenario where Nick Rhodes himself would read it. I would have burst into flames, and it would have caused embarrassment for him too I’m imagining. No matter that I allowed Bethann to read it- I did not give permission for someone else to take it and show it around.

Additionally, having seen Cumberbatch and Freeman’s reactions to “steamy fan fiction” about their characters, I can’t imagine it would have gone much better had they read “steamy fan fiction” about themselves (ie: mature or explicit RPF). While it is widely believed that some stars (like Michael Sheen and Taika Waititi) seek out and read fan works in private, that’s a different dynamic than celebrities acting out stories with puppets on national TV. According to The Sun, “viewers should bank on plenty of laughs, with celebs including Harry Styles and The Chase’s Anne Hegerty at the forefront of fans’ fantasies.” (https://www.thesun.ie/tv/8995543/really-really-rude-puppet-show-erotic-fan-fiction/)

Oh. Harry. NOOOOOOO.

As I shared in response to a recent post about this topic, Fight Club rules apply. The first rule of fanfic about actors is you never talk about fanfic to the actors. Here’s hoping Channel 4 remembers the rule before it’s too late.

#fanfiction #Channel 4 #Mel Giedroyc #fanfic #ao3fic #ao3 #C4Press

287 notes · View notes

denimbex1986 · 24 days

Text

'Some five years after it was announced, Andrew Scott’s take on infamously charming fictional sociopath Tom Ripley is finally coming to our screens.

Based loosely on the 1955 novel by Patricia Highsmith – which was also adapted into an acclaimed 1999 film – it tells the story of a con artist who swindles his way into the high life by befriending wealthy socialite Dickie Greenleaf.

The show boasts a star-studded cast and a plot with plenty of hairpin twists and turns – as well as being shot in classy black and white. Here’s our breakdown of who’s playing whom...

Andrew Scott as Thomas "Tom" Ripley

Andrew Scott plays the talented Mr Ripley of the show’s title. A small-time confidence trickster who’s struggling to make ends meet in New York City, Ripley’s luck turns when he’s approached by businessman Herbert Greenleaf.

Greenleaf’s son Dickie has fled to Italy to avoid joining the family business and Ripley (who says he’s an acquaintance of Dickie) is charged with bringing him back. This doesn’t go entirely to plan, and Ripley soon yearns for Dickie’s lifestyle.

Scott himself is an established star on both sides of the Atlantic. Born in Dublin in 1976, he balanced school with weekend acting classes, and appeared in his first time role – in the film Korea – at the age of 17. He moved to London five years later and from there worked his way through a variety of smaller roles.

His breakthrough into the mainstream was as the villainous, scenery-chewing Jim Moriarty in the BBC’s Sherlock, opposite Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock Holmes in 2010. Ever since then he’s been a mainstay on our screens – as Fleabag’s Hot Priest, in Black Mirror, and most recently in romantic drama All Of Us Strangers opposite Paul Mescal.

Now, he’s in Ripley. "You don't play the opinions, the previous attitudes that people might have about Tom Ripley,” he’s said about the role. “I have to have the courage to create our own version and my own understanding of the character... It was a heavy part to play. I found it mentally and physically really hard.”

Johnny Flynn as Richard "Dickie" Greenleaf

The easy-going Dickie is the son of a shipping magnate and tremendously rich. He has also fled to Italy with the aim of avoiding family responsibilities – and Ripley is hired to bring him back home.

Flynn himself is both an actor and a singer-songwriter (he plays in a band, Johnny Flynn & The Sussex Wit). Born in 1983 in Johannesburg, he won a music scholarship first to Pilgrims School in Winchester and then to Bedales. He was one of Screen International’s Stars of Tomorrow in 2005, and broke through in Channel 4’s romcom series Love Sick as the main character, Dylan.

Since then, he’s appeared in films such as 2020’s Emma (in which he played Mr Knightley opposite Anya Taylor-Joy’s Emma) and as the young Nicholas Wynton in 2023 film One Life.

Dakota Fanning as Marge Sherwood

Marge is Dickie’s friend, who becomes romantically involved with him as their Italian holiday progresses. When Ripley appears on the scene, she quickly becomes suspicious of him.

Fanning has been acting since the age of five. Born in Georgia to a tennis player and a baseball player, she started off in small plays before appearing in NBC medical drama ER as a car accident victim with leukaemia. Two years later, she became the youngest ever person to be nominated for a SAG Award for her work in 2001 film I Am Sam.

Over the years, she’s appeared in films including The Secret Life of Bees, War of the Worlds and even in the Twilight saga as vampire Jane.

Eliot Sumner as Eddie Miles

Eddie is Dickie’s close friend, who arrives in Italy shortly after Ripley does and stays at his Italian villa. The pair rapidly develop a strong disliking of each other.

Sumner is an English songwriter and actor. Born in Italy in 1990, they are the child of Sting and Trudie Styler and grew up on the family’s estate near Stonehenge. The family gave Sumner their first guitar at four or five, and they wrote their first song at 13, before signing a record deal with Island Records at the age of 17.

Their first band, I Blame Coco, released their debut album in 2010 (Coco was Sumner’s nickname growing up). Since then, they’ve also ventured into acting, most recently appearing in Guy Ritchie’s Netflix series The Gentlemen.

Maurizio Lombardi as Inspector Pietro Ravini

Not much is known about Lombardi’s character, but given his title, we can assume he’s part of the Italian police squad who set about investigating Ripley’s actions as the drama unfolds. No spoilers here, but things are set to get messy.

Lombardi himself is an Italian acting legend. Born in 1973, he decided to become an actor after reading The Count of Monte Cristo aged 14. Since then, he’s appeared in 2016 show The Young Pope with Jude Law, 2020’s The New Pope opposite John Malkovich and Italian crime series Monterossi.

Francesca Romana Bergamo as Ermelinda

Ermelinda is Dickie Greenleaf’s housekeeper and cook at his private home. In the book, this is in Mongibello (a made up town on the coast); the TV series hints at Rome.

Neapolitan actress Francesca Bergamo has, up until now, mainly appeared in Italian language shows. Educated at the San Carlo di Napoli theatre, her main roles have included films such as Il ricordo di una lacrima (2015), Ivan e il suo strano tempo (2013) and Il ballo dei pomodori (2016).

John Malkovich as TBC

What role will the multi-talented John Malkovich be playing? So far, it has been kept under wraps, but the addition of Malkovich – who himself has played Ripley in 2002’s Ripley’s Game – is sure to spice up the show. He almost requires no introduction, but we’ll give him one anyway: born in Illinois in 1953, he made his start in 1976 when he joined the Steppenwolf Theatre Company in Chicago.

From there, he went on to appear in films such as Empire of the Sun (1987), Of Mice and Men (1992), Being John Malkovich (1999) and even the first Johnny English film in 2003. He’s dabbled in fashion (he set up his own fashion company, Mrs Mudd, in 2002) and has been an artistic muse (in 2014, photographer Sandro Muller released an exhibition of 35 iconic portraits of the actor).

Margherita Buy as TBC

Italian actress Margherita Buy has a career spanning decades. A native of Rome, she was born in 1962 and broke through in Duccio Tessari's Una grande storia d'amore (1986). She’s gone on to appear in numerous Italian-language films and TV shows – and is best known for Mia madre (2015), The Ignorant Fairies (2001) and Days and Clouds (2007).

Ripley airs on Netflix from April 4'

5 notes · View notes

rainydaycafe · 11 months

Text

A Shaken Espresso, Please - Ch. 2

Pairing: Professor! Stephen Strange au x OC fem! graduate school student (and barista)!

Summary: Professor Strange has a reputation that proceeds him and a finicky taste for off-campus coffee. Enter a graduate school attending barista. This is their story.

Warnings: age difference (older Stephen), and an inhumane amount of fluff with tumultuous thoughts

A/N: feel more than free to send me prompts for this story regarding what you'd like to see, what you think would fit, and any thought u have up in that sexy mind of yours!

Chapter 1

Time seemed to bend in differently for both Stephen and Emilia.

Their perception of time differed as the morning of their lunch date time seemed to extend itself to an excruciating length even when Stephen did his best to distract himself with work and emails. Time seemed to pass by as quick as a gust of wind when Emilia woke up that morning feeling jitters, unable to formulate an outfit that was good enough.

However they perceived it, time still passed and as was her habit- Emilia was early to the restaurant.

It turns out Stephen is even earlier than her, waiting outside on a nearby wall looking as handsome as ever. It’s the first time Emilia’s ever seen him wearing black jeans which he’s paired with a dark blue cardigan overtop a casual gray button up.

Looking so well put together with his straight posture and confident aura, it’s unimaginable to think of this man having been the one in his apartment checking and rechecking everything about his appearance multiple times before finally leaving his place.

Only to check himself in every available window and mirror, but that’s besides the point because he knows he looks good.

Emilia glances down at her own outfit which took her longer than she’d admit to pick. The entire idea of picking this outfit almost sent her into a fit of inescapable nerves.

It took her a lifetime to pick a pair of dark blue jeans that clung to her thighs and ended at just the beginning of her shoes, and the beige cardigan with orange flowers with a cream tank top.

The jeans may make her ass look fantastic, but that’s not the reason she chose them. Really. That would be presumptuous of her.

While Emilia doesn't have the financial freedom Stephen has to spend on clothes, she knows she did well choosing her outfit when Stephen catches sight of her and bites back a smile by biting his lower lip.

“Emilia,” Stephen says, pushing away from the wall and walking towards her.

Emilia doesn’t know whether they’re supposed to hug, wave, or shake hands but Stephen makes the decision for her as he leans in quickly and presses a kiss on her cheek. The breath she had catches in her throat and she flushes a bit, looking just about anywhere other than the man before her.

“Hi. You look really nice,” Which isn’t an empty compliment because Stephen does look nice.

“Thank you. This is my favorite cardigan,” Stephen says as they begin walking towards the door, Emilia pulling open the door for them, “You look beautiful. Those pants are-” Stephen swallows and Emilia watches in genuine surprise as he flushes a bit, “They look nice on you,”

“Thanks,” Emilia says as she wrings her hands together because he noticed!

“I already got us a table so I hope it’s okay we eat upstairs on the roof?”

Emilia spends plenty of time indoors. Work, school, home, etc. So she’s plenty happy to be outside. It’s a lovely day to spend outside since it’s just warm enough to avoid being too cold, but it isn’t hot. The breeze is cooling but not strong enough to blow away their napkins which is nice to have when Emilia feels she needs to cool down when Stephen looks at her.

In all honesty, Emilia can’t remember the last time she went on a date. The previous dates having been a daunting experience with men that really weren’t her cup of tea but they managed to get her to agree when she was fumbling with how to say “no”.

This, however?

This is easy.

It’s easy to simply sit across from Stephen on a sunny afternoon on the roof of his lovely restaurant. Their knees aren’t knocking, but every so often their feet bump into one another and every time Emilia feels her breath stutter. But either way she leans her chin on the heel of her hand and gazes at Stephen, making him feel as though everything he says will stick to Emilia and will never be forgotten.

Stephen makes it easy with his gift for conversation and his infectious smile. Emilia is very content to just listen as Stephen speaks about his job, where he went to school, what he studied. Everything is nonchalant- all that he’s done and all he still wants to do. There is pride as he speaks, but there isn’t any of the usual arrogance Emilia knows he carries at times. Stephen talks about himself as though he’s just any other person but Emilia thinks Stephen might be the most interesting person she’s ever encountered.

And Stephen draws out bits and pieces of Emilia’s own private story, unhappy with the way Emilia shrugs away her own life as though there’s nothing to actually speak of. The wide eyed wonder Stephen shows when Emilia speaks of her life, her education, and herself is enough to keep her speaking as she fidgets every so often when the attention makes her shy. Emilia continues to speak even when she knows she’s told Stephen more than she’s ever told anyone.

They’re both quite certain that they could speak to one another well past lunch, into dinner, and well into the late hours of night and into the early hours of the morning. For as long as the other might want to stay without even an inkling of boredom between them.

There is a quiet hope simmering there that hopefully the other will also want that.

A bit of doubt is bouncing around the back of her head and she can’t completely relax unless she’s clarified it.

“Is it- is it okay for us to be here together?” Emilia asks, nervously folding and refolding her napkin, Stephen pausing mid chew in confusion, “I mean since you’re a professor and I am a student,”

“You don’t need to worry about that. I looked through the faculty handbook the day you came into my office,” Stephen answers as though he’s telling her his favorite color with genuine ease.

It might not mean much to him, but it caused Emilia to pause to take what he had said.

Had he been interested in getting to know her and have her sit across from him from the moment she stepped foot in his office?

Stephen noted the surprise but he just smiled in the way that was now becoming familiar to Emilia, and she couldn’t help but just smile back.

“What are you teaching this semester? How are you liking them?” Emilia asked and Stephen contemplated.

“I’m teaching Navigational and Spatial Orientation, Ethical Conduct of Research, Neuroscience of Mental Illnesses, Sleep and Sleep Disorders, Neurobiology of Social Intelligence, and Neurobiology of Learning and Memory,”

The impressed expression on Emilia’s face was enough to have Stephen feeling superior and like he was an impressive individual since the courses he taught were a glimpse into his vast intelligence

“I mostly enjoy them but there are pros and cons to any profession,” Stephen added..

“What are the pros and cons of yours?”

“It’s just a bit difficult in a frustrating sense when we have to backtrack multiple times to a topic or a particular section because some students are have a harder time understanding,” Stephen explained, catching Emilia off guard, “I never had a problem understanding things in school so I don’t have a lot of patience for the redundancy of the slow students. Especially the Learning and Memory since it’s more of an introductory course we get a lot of students who aren’t sure of what they’re really in for with neuro, much less achieving a level of education like my own. They follow my courses since I’m obviously the head of the department I am the best,”

Emilia had been the student who needed the extra help when it came to her science and math classes since it just didn’t click for her right away, often leaving her confused and with a headache.

Read a book in a day? Easy. Memorize a few dates for history class? Fine. But when it comes to the world of math and science Emilia always felt out of her depth and it had always been due to feeling stupid when she did reach out for help with teachers and professors who shared the slightest bit of Stephen’s attitude.

If Stephen thought his own students were “slow” students who had made it into the highly competitive science department were “slow” she didn’t want to imagine what he thought of her.

Stephen’s arrogance had always been something women enjoyed, finding it impressive how confident he was in his skills; but it seemed to be having the opposite effect on Emilia as she seemed to be shutting down right in front of her.

That arrogance had been a part of his personality for as long as he’s known he’s gifted and it’s what people notice immediately after meeting him.

“I’m sorry if I came off as a pretentious asshole” Stephen said suddenly over the silence that had stretched out due to what he knew was his fault, “I’m not some huge asshole who just goes around belittling students. I am good at what I do but I don’t want you to think that’s all I am. I just- I just wanted to impress you but it seems to be having the opposite effect on you,”

Emilia visibly relaxed and she listened to him ramble until he came to his own natural end.

“Stephen, I’m not here with you because you’re head of the science department or because you have all of this professional success,” Emilia confessed, “I’m here to be with the Stephen that goes into the coffee shop and is pleasant to be around and converse with,”

“I really sounded like an asshole, didn’t?” Stephen asked with a self deprecating chuckle.

“Not… not really. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be confident and proud of yourself but like I said; I like you for who you are when you’re relaxed and are yourself, I don’t need you to prove to me you’re intelligent,” Emilia explained because anyone who came across Stephen could understand that he was an intelligent person.

When around Emilia, Stephen realizes he hasn’t been the belittling asshole with a superiority complex at all since all he wanted was to know her, to have her, and his genuine self has been more than enough to win her over.

Arrogance is just a mask for the feeling of having to prove yourself

That was something Stephen had heard time and time again after his haughtiness had gotten under the skin of someone, and perhaps on some level they were right but apparently he hadn’t felt the need to prove anything with Emilia up until he became all too self aware and self conscious almost.

There was safety between them; it seemed Stephen could be his most genuine self. There was nothing to prove to her since he was enough, he didn’t need additional padding.

However Stephen did choose to push the thought of confessing exactly why he had become a professor when he was very much qualified for more demanding professions.

It was still a subject that was sore enough to have him avoid it, especially when Emilia was looking at him with genuine affection within her gaze and he just couldn’t deal with it switching over to pity and sympathy because of what could have been.

The only other slight hiccup is when the check comes and Emilia attempts to pay but Stephen quickly pulls the bill out of her reach.

“I asked you so I will pay. If you’re so eager to pay, you can ask me out next time,” Stephen says with a smile, nudging at her ankle with his foot.

Next time. Emilia thinks, and the helpless wonder and hope bubbles inside of her all that much more, hoping Stephen feels the same anticipation when it comes to the phrase “next time”.

________________

It turns out that the second location Stephen wanted them to go to was a farmer’s market a few streets down which was held every Saturday afternoon from 2:00pm-7:30pm.

Emilia figures out where they’re going about two blocks into their walk as she sees people walking around with tote bags full of fresh produce, baked goods, and whatever else they sell at the farmers market but she keeps quiet.

They’re busy chatting or, well, lightly debating about whether classical music is superior to jazz music but there’s not an ounce of heat behind either of their words.

Walking side by side, their hands brush every so often and Emilia wonders what it would be like to hold hands with Stephen. To have his larger hands encase her own, or to thread her own fingers through his but she doesn’t dwell on it too long because she doesn’t have the courage to reach out and grab his hand.

The curiosity surrounding holding hands isn’t one Emilia lives with for too long as they arrive at the impressive farmer’s market and Stephen asks where she’d like to start.

Stephen asks where she’d like to start, but Emilia tells him she doesn’t really mind so he directs them towards the hand made soap when he suddenly takes hold of her hand as though it were the most casual and normal thing.

There’s a jolt that goes through Emilia, and she’s tempted to look at their interlaced fingers but she doesn’t and instead relishes the warmth Stephen’s hands provides.

Perhaps there’s a part of her that is afraid of acknowledging it because Stephen will also acknowledge it and pull away, noticing that it’s meaning a bit too much to Emilia for his liking.

A glance is stolen when Stephen is busy debating the kind of honey he most wants, but Emilia quickly looks away from their hands and confesses to him she’s of no help because she doesn’t care for honey.

Their walk around the farmer’s market continues and Emilia finds herself comfortable and content, hoping there’s another day like this awaiting her, just without all of the first date nerves that consumed her beforehand.

Letting their gazes linger towards stalls that might interest one another, Emilia locks eyes with an ice cream vendor dishing out delicious looking ice cream.

“Ice cream,” Emilia says not without childlike wonder that makes Stephen smile, directing both of them there where he smiles wider as Emilia genuinely debates the flavors. It seems to be a serious contemplation as she weighs her options, going through a pros and cons list in a matter of seconds.

“What are you going to get?” Emilia asks when they’re finally in line after Emilia has made a decision on her flavor choices.

“Brownie chunk and pistachio. What did you settle on?”

“I’ve settled on butter pecan and vanilla caramel crunch,”

They both order, Stephen opting for a cone as Emilia goes for her ice cream to be in a cup, Emilia beating him to pay as she had her card ready to go the moment they got in line because she couldn’t let him pay for everything.

Stephen had been distracted looking at her side profile, but he admits defeat as they wait off to the side, not waiting too long before their order number is called.

“There’s a bench over there,” Stephen gestures, “It’s a bit further away so we can have a bit of privacy,”

Emilia nods and before long they’re sitting, chatting away about anything that’s under the sun which is a relief to Emilia who had been plagued with the fear of Stephen finding her boring.

The natural curiosity between them doesn’t cease, both of them wanting to know more and more about the other without feeling as though they’ve hit the mark for casual first date knowledge.

“This place is here every Saturday,” Stephen explains proudly, “I know it’s a bit busy and touristy but it has some really nice things as well- what? What’s that look on your face?”

“I live nearby, Stephen,” Emilia says, attempting not to laugh at the affronted expression that crosses Stephen’s face, “I live about 2 blocks away and I come here on the Saturdays I want to get out of my place for a bit,”

“Fuck,” Stephen swears, “This is so boring for you, isn’t it? I just can’t seem to pull anything off with you, can I?”

“It’s not boring,” Emilia says sincerely, glancing towards the people shopping away, “I’m not bored because I’m getting to know you,”

The smile that Stephen gives him is so genuine and delicate that Emilia swears something rearranges inside of her in that moment.

“You’re so sweet,” Stephen says, and suddenly when Emilia looks towards him from where she was looking at some kids playing with sticks Stephen is leaning in and kissing her firmly.

It’s warm and sweet, and so intimate it makes Emilia feel like she’s off kilter somehow even though she’s sitting down on a bench at the farmer’s market she frequented as often as she’s wanted to.

Emilia’s been kissed before, sure, but not like this.

Not like she’s something precious and wonderful, like she’s something meant to be cherished. She can feel the intimacy and the sincerity, the way Stephen isn’t trying to impress her in that moment.

It’s the ice cream he tastes like, the softness of his lips, and the hand he has pressed to the back of her neck.

“Are you guys kissing?” A voice asks a bit too close for comfort and Stephen feels Emilia pull away quickly as though she’s been burned, leaving him mentally cursing everything worth cursing in the universe.

Turning, he sees one of the little monsters- kids- who had been playing a ways away standing in front of them waiting for an answer.

“Why don’t you go back to playing with sticks before I give you a lobotomy?” Stephen asks in a fakely sweet voice, the child unsure of what to make of the comment turns and goes back to her friends.

Emilia, embarrassed at being caught and interrupted is blushing bright red covering her face with her hands but Stephen is quick to peel them away, bringing her close to his side with his arm over her shoulder.

“I can’t believe you threatened to give her a lobotomy,” Emilia chastised.

“Well you were busy hiding your face so I had to get her to go away,” Stephen defended.

Indignant, Emilia turns to look at Stephen who looks at her expectantly but instead of giving in she turns back around, still unsure of what’s okay and what isn’t.

Stephen answers her by cupping her face with both hands and pulling her into him, pressing his lips to hers again, stemming that warm feeling that builds up in her chest and seems to expand to anywhere Stephen is touching.

________________

A/N: Hope you enjoyed and I hope you want to read more from me

Taglist for people who asked for a second part (ily):

@diabaroxa @vi0letdaze

25 notes · View notes