I just read a theory that possibly wanda from 616 has switched bodies with wanda from 838 and possibly forced her to commit suicide or something...left me thinking
I just read a theory that possibly wanda from 616 has switched bodies with wanda from 838 and possibly forced her to commit suicide or something...left me thinking
MCU incorrect quotes
Doctor Strange In The Multiverse Of Madness New Official Poster
My ★★ review of Doctor Strange on Letterboxd https://boxd.it/2DpLq3
This has almost as much blatant theism as Miracle On 34th Street. The first time I heard the Ancient One say "not everything has to make sense" I shouted "oh piss off you bald nincompoop!" If a priest, rabbi or homeopath were capable of demonstrating the existence of the supernatural by separating my astral form from my body I'd probably be a more spiritual person but they can't, can they? Aside from that, there are some creative visuals, though the 'Christopher Nolan' fight scenes are so chaotic that the characters don't feel like they have any agency. And Doctor Who did the time loop finale better.
Not taking any requests for the mean time due to commitment issues. Banner does not belong to me.
All I ask
All I Want
You made Me (Sub-Story) - In progress.
Part II - In progress
Just found out Benedict Cumberbatch's hidden talent and WTF
"This is horribly creepy"
Damn right it is
I don’t know if I have a favourite. I would be bias and say Benedict’s Sherlock, but I also loved Robert’s Sherlock.
Also some of the OG Sherlock’s, are really good too. Mmm.
You Matter to Me (Rated T)
Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader
Word Count: 1.5k+
Warnings: Self-conscious Stephen, domestic fluff, traumatic flashback
Summary: During a calming baking session within the Sanctum Sanctorum, Stephen has a tough time working through his fears. When you do your best to ease his mind, the two of you end up in a bit of trouble.
One morning in the Sanctum Sanctorum, there was a sound rarely heard. Somewhere within the great hallways and magical rooms was a kitchen, with a very confused sorcerer and his baker of a significant other. The clinks and clanks of cooking utensils bounced against the walls of the mystical sanctuary, performing an unlikely melody to an otherwise quiet day.
At first, the Cloak of Levitation had been more than willing to help you. It would gather the ingredients and cooking utensils that were too far out of reach. However, when it came to the baking itself, you and Stephen were on your own. You couldn't blame the mystical artifact, though. There was only so much chaos a person could take in a kitchen. Eggshells littered the counter, flour coated your hands, and somehow oil had ended up on the ceiling.
“We only need a quarter of a cup of powdered sugar,” you instructed as you measured out a thing of cocoa powder. There was a streak of flour against your cheek that you hadn't bothered to clean up -- a battle scar from the cupcakes you had baked earlier. “Any more than that and the icing will be too sweet.”
Your boyfriend of a sorcerer grumbled to himself as he attempted to coordinate his hand movements with the package of powder. “Why do they make it so hard to open these things?”
His frustration was evident in his tone of voice. Stephen was always self conscious of his hands, not to mention his ability to do anything with them. He hated that feeling. Before his accident, he felt like he could do anything. Now here he was, hands shaking and unable to tear a hole into a thin plastic casing. It made him feel less than enough without fail. Every single time.
“Oh, honey,” you giggled at his aggravated pout at the bag. You hated to see him like this but you had to admit it was kind of adorable. As you leaned over to pull open the plastic, you pressed a kiss to his chin. “It’s alright. They’re just tricky.”
Stephen frowned at the measuring cup in his shaking hand. “How much again?” he tried to keep his voice from cracking. He should have known there would be no hiding anything from you.
“Okay, honey,” you lifted a spatula and cocked your hip to the side as he dumped the white substance into the mixing bowl. “What’s the problem?”
“There isn’t a problem.”
“Liar.” You started to cream together the ingredients, smiling at the creamy brown concoction now forming. As you scooped the mixture into a piping bag, you couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at your boyfriend. “There’s something bothering you.”
Stephen sighed. “It’s my hands.”
The spatula you were using to scoop the frosting out of the bowl stilled in the air. Concern for him was evident on your face. “Is the pain back?” you fretted. “Did something happen?”
“No! No, no, not at all,” he assured you. “It’s just...how do you put up with me? With- with this?” He held his hands up for emphasis. The redness on the skin had gone down over the years, scars fading to become less noticeable. They still shook — something Stephen could never control, especially without the Time Stone.
“Oh, honey,” you put the spatula down to scoop his hands into yours. Your thumbs gently traced along his knuckles and you brought them up to lips to press a kiss against them. “I love everything about you. That includes your hands. You might not be able to do everything you used to, but I don’t care.”
Stephen stiffened in your hold. “It’s been seven years-“ he hesitated after you gave him a knowing look. “Fine, two years. I should be able to do more by now! But they’re just useless!”
“Stop that.” You hated using that tone with him, you really did, but you couldn’t bear to hear him like this. He had been through too much- you both had- for him to be so hard on himself. “Please. Stephen, your hands... they’re a reminder of how strong you are, of how you survived. If you didn’t have these scars, you never would have come to Kamar-Taj, become the sorcerer supreme...”
“Saved you from that idiot with a gun...”
A small smile flickered across your face as you remembered the day your paths crossed. You had been coming home after a trip to the bank. Life after being Blipped meant that you needed to get a little financial help. Unfortunately, you and thousands of other people were on the same page. If that wasn’t bad enough, some of them had the ingenious idea to take what they thought they deserved.
That’s how you found yourself staring down at a barrel of a gun.
You hadn’t even heard the gunshot, much less felt it when it went off. The authorities said it was just a trigger-happy thief, but you knew that wasn’t the case. You could see the fear in his eyes when he held the weapon, but his hand was steady. He didn’t regret what he did. What more could a man lose after coming back from the dead? It wasn’t a fatal shot, but you still lost a lot of blood. Shock had overtaken your body to the point you were frozen in the alley you had been corralled into.
Thankfully for you, as your attacker was preparing to take your latest loan, a flash of red material and orange magic came to your rescue. After Stephen apprehended the guy, he helped you with your injuries. You had been fortunate to be shot in the shoulder. If the bullet had been a few inches lower, it would have been a different story, he assured you. He had saved your life that day and to repay him, you asked if he wanted a coffee.
Both of your lives had changed that day. It was as though something was pulling the two of you closer, binding you together. A coffee date led to something much more serious. When Stephen had asked you to move in with him, it had been an adjustment, but a welcome one. The Sanctum Sanctorum hadn’t just become your home. It was your sanctuary, a place where you could feel safe and be with the love of your life. With Stephen, you felt safe and secure. But to hear him question his own usefulness when he’s already done so much for you…
“I love you,” you said simply.
If Stephen was surprised or taken aback by the confession, he didn’t show it. Instead, he merely placed his hands on your waist and stared earnestly into your eyes. “I love you, too,” he replied. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just....” Stephen sighed. “It’s just that sometimes it all becomes too much.”
You gave a small nod and toyed with his hands before placing them against your jaw. “I know. But you need to replace the bad memories with good ones. You need to see what I see.”
Stephen traced his thumbs against the shape of your jawline, stroking your cheek in the process. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, blue-green eyes searching yours.
“Perfect doesn’t exist, Strange.”
“I’m looking right at it.” He moved one hand away from your face, angling his body to be closer. You closed your eyes in anticipation of a kiss that you were sure would soon follow. “And it’s sweet, just like....”
He didn’t finish his statement as you felt something smear against your nose. With a yelp of surprise, you opened your eyes to see a large dollop of frosting on the tip of your nose. Somehow your boyfriend had found a way to grip onto the spatula and utilize it as a paint brush against your face.
You gaped at the sorcerer standing in front of you. “Stephen Strange, you did not!”
There was a loud period of laughter from the sorcerer. “I’m sorry, but your face!” he spoke between chortles. “It was priceless, honey.”
Without another thought, you grinned and started to roll up your sleeve. You reached over to the container of flour on the counter. Stephen’s eyes tracked you wildly as you moved the fist back to your side. “Oh, it is on, doctor,” you said as you tossed a handful of flour into his face.
It was the beginning of a very long night, which wasn’t great for the hidden kitchen. Dishes, ingredients, and towels were tossed about the room. By the time you and Stephen had finished with your childish food fight, it looked like a hurricane had infiltrated the Sanctum through the Rotunda of Gateways. The cupcakes and frosting had been long forgotten, with it being nearly two hours before you finally remembered to come back and finish your task. If there was one thing you learned about dating the great Stephen Strange was that every day was an adventure....
.....but you wouldn’t want to change it for the world.
Author's Note: Well, hello there! Yes, I am back with another Stephen fic. I'm so sorry to those who have requested fics that I haven't posted yet. I've hit a bit of a writer's slump and haven't had that right inspiration to crank out those amazing requests. This idea kinda morphed on its own accord in my brain. Who doesn't love domestic Stephen? I have an idea for a Part 2 during the clean up stages, but not sure when or if I'll ever be able to write/post it.
As usual, please don't forget to leave a like, comment, and a reblog! It really helps me out with the Tumblr algorithm and lets me know what type of fics you like reading. If you have a request, too, make sure to check out my guidelines before sending it through my asks/submissions! Until next time, loves!
Okay but is no one gonna talk about how Wong literally jeopardized the whole world/multiverse to save some of his students. But then! Told strange to kill America even though protecting her from Wanda was why this movie was started in the first place. Make it make sense Wong fr. Faith is what America lacked and he just said KILL HER instead of trusting in America like strange did.
idc if sinister strange looks like he doesn't shower! he's my little meow meow ok so y'all need to leave him alone
Word count: 3.4K WARNINGS: DS:MoM and Endgame References. HeavyAngst. CharacterDeath, Loss/Grief. A/N: First of all, sorry but I just love Angst so much, I can't get enough of it so I had to get this out of my head. I hope you guys enjoy <3 I still need to make a tag list (I'm still a tumblr noob) Please let me know if you want to be tagged every time I post a story! ^_^ ***Strictly do not: claim, repost, copy, translate my stories anywhere else***
Tags: @simp4fictional @praetorrara @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @elicheel @vintageroses10 @sillyfreakfanparty @sherlux @padmesgreene @brucewaynescock @peachyrogerss @wow-life-love4 @geeky-politics-46 @hueanhdang @graniairish @lucywrites02 I hope you guys don't mind me tagging ya'll.
In partial darkness, you lay on the dirt and rubble trying to stay conscious as much as possible. The air was thick with dust, yet it wasn't clear whether the dust was causing your eyesight to blur or if it was actually your vision that’s affected. Despite the fact that Barton was in front of you, you couldn't make out where the person was even though you could hear a muffled voice calling your name. Because of your ringing ears, Clint's voice was difficult to hear; he was cautious about shaking you and was trying to keep you awake, but clearly, because of the concussion you sustained to the back of your head, you were seeing stars. Shortly after Banner snapped his fingers to restore everyone to life, Thanos' ship came from the past and blasted the Avengers compound. The building got completely blown to bits, and you are one of the people who suffered in the aftermath of it.
In the midst of attempts to contact the rest of the team, Barton repeatedly raised his voice, dread and desperation evident in his tone, asking, "Can anyone copy? (Y/N)'s in critical condition, she needs medical assistance NOW." He watched your vitals like a hawk to make sure you're still breathing, your neck still pulsating. Despite searching for a way out multiple times, Barton was unable to find one, so he had no choice but to blast through the cement. Before deciding where he would shoot the explosive arrows, Barton surveyed the area thoroughly to determine the best distance from which to fire them.
“Come on kid, stay with us please, we just got everybody back!” Clint kept on talking to you still, but in the end he ended up yelling out of distress and a desperate effort to keep you alive as long as possible.
He has already lost someone very dear to him and could not do anything about it; and he doesn't know how he would deal with losing another friend on the same day, especially when you've still got a chance to live.
He carefully picked you up from the ground, your body partially limp from your injuries; he immobilised your head to prevent further injury that may cause paralysis. Barton placed you undercover before he blasts a way out of the rubble. He grabbed one of his explosive arrows, gently connecting the arrow to its nocking points, his muscles shaking from fatigue as he pulled the bowstring back while he aimed at the safest place to shoot. Even when under pressure, Clint's skills did not betray him, he quickly dropped down and shielded you with his body as cement flew from all directions.
As soon as you heard another explosion, you felt that suddenly your surroundings were becoming brighter. You felt yourself being lifted off the ground once more by Clint, you could guess that he was shouting for help as both of you emerged from the ground.
The expression in your eyes looked empty as you stared towards the darkened skies which were tainted orange by the fires that burned the earth. Ashes danced in the air as they rained down towards the area, which had once been a place of peace but now was turned into a battlefield.
Pepper who was in her armoured suit landed gracefully a few metres away from Clint who was looking hopeless with your upper body cradled in his arms. Pepper urgently ran towards the both of you. Concern filled her eyes seeing the severity of your injuries, "F.R.I.D.A.Y, scan (Y/N)'s vitals please."
"Scanning," The A.I. scanned your through her helmet, "Fortunately no major damage to her spinal cords but she is suffering traumatic brain injury, oxygen saturation dropping, blood pressure and heart rate dropping at an alarming rate, sending S.U.M.A (Stark Urgent Medical Assistant) to your location, ETA approximately five minutes." The A.I. spoke with Pepper, as both her and Clint comforted and reassured each other through their eyes.
Despite all the chaos and destruction going on around you, you were feeling calm and your muscles were relaxed as though you were floating on a calm ocean. Memories that you held close to your heart flashes before your eyes, it felt like a compilation film your brain had prepared for this moment, the moment where your life was slipping away— then all faded to black just like every beginning.
The reason why Stephen asked Wong, "Is that everyone?" After they exited through the portal, was because he couldn’t find you. He was aware that they've been gone for five years, but to them it only felt like five seconds. He was expecting to fight alongside you, it would've been the fight of your lives, he expected you to brag about your kill count to prove that you were the better sorcerer— what he didn’t expect was this; you in an ICU bed, unconscious, intubated and your life depending on a machine.
Trying so very hard not to give in to his frustration, Stephen demanded, "Tell me what they've done to her." His voice was trembling in discontent, and he was trying so hard not to raise his voice either.
Christine and Stephen were having this conversation which felt like a dejavu. He did not want you to hear him pressuring her for information, so he went out into the hallway with them.
"Stephen, you are not her next of kin, I can't just disclose confidential information about the patient," Christine explained in a calm voice, "You're a doctor, you know this."
Suddenly Stephen groans, losing just a little more of his patience, "She has no next of kin Christine, just in case you have forgotten. She works with me. So I'm asking, as a friend, can you tell me what they did to her?" His voice quaked in the air.
It was evident by his appearance, the man had been deprived of sleep for a few nights, which may be affecting his ability to reason. With each passing day, his bloodshot eyes became more obvious, and the circles under his eyes became more prominently darker.
Christine stared at him as she contemplated and began feeling sorry for him, "By the time she arrived here, she had severe intracranial hypertension and decreased cerebral perfusion. They had to perform an emergency decompressive craniectomy, you know how the rest goes."
"Christ..." he muttered, squeezing the bridge of his nose, profanely dismissing their intervention as laughable, "I usually recommend craniectomy as a last resort, couldn't they punch a hole in her skull before, I don’t know? taking large chunks out?!" He said sarcastically, unable to contain his emotions this time and raised his voice, agitated.
The woman sighed deeply, her sentiments changing towards Stephen while his arrogant side was grinding the gears in his mind, "This is why I didn’t want to tell you Stephen, because you always think you could've done better."
"I COULD... have done better." Stephen kept his voice raised till Christine flinched at his words, then he was forced to lower the volume of his voice, "I don't think, I can do better. I know, I could have done better." His voice was stiff as he pronounced the word 'better', his facial muscles twitching.
She snapped, pressing her lips together and rolling her eyes inward, "I believe the treating team did the best they could under the pressure of the situation. Why can't you just be thankful she is still alive?" She asked.
As Stephen pointed out to you through the window, he let out a dry laugh, "You call that living?" He asked Christine.
The woman shook her head, no way would she be able to make her way past this man's thick skull, "You answer that question yourself Stephen, because nothing in the world will ever be good enough for you-"
"She fucking was!" Stephen exploded from exasperation, "And she still is, I can't lose her now." Suddenly, he was overcome with tears as he finally confessed his inner feelings. As soon as those tears spilled, he was able to wipe them off and suppress them as quickly as he had let them out.
"Then you’re going to have to allow us to do our jobs and don't interfere." Christine calmly, yet firmly insisted on Stephen.
The Sanctum felt cold and dark without your presence, so quiet that Stephen could almost hear the memories of you bothering him with questions about certain spells as you advanced with your magic.
You were born for the mystic arts and you always bragged about it to Stephen, threatening him to take the title of Sorcerer Supreme.
You tripped Stephen onto the ground and while he tried to get up, you leapt into the air, creating an illusion of steps to rise higher and fly through the air, landing a flying punch on Stephen's cheek. "Remember the first rule? Never underestimate your enemy?" You asked Stephen when you had his arm in a twist while your knees pinned him down, facing the ground.
“I don’t know who taught you how to fight but there usually isn’t this much talking.” Stephen retorted and headbutted your chin before effortlessly flipping you over on top of his body and locking you in a joint-lock; his legs around your waist, and his arms holding your head in a choke hold, “If you don’t want to be underestimated then start by practising strengthening your grip.”
You clenched your jaw around his strong arms, which were close to cutting off your air supply, you hit his arm as a sign of surrender, and he let go instantly, leaving you gasping for breath and coughing for air. You clutched onto your chest and glowered at him as he walked around you, “What the hell Strange? Are you trying to kill me?” It was your intention to shout, but the words came out raspy.
“Trying to give you a realistic lesson was all I was doing.” Stephen shrugged and tilted his head mockingly, still watching you catch your breath, “Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t you say you’d rather have me choke you than have Wong teach you magic?”
‘Oh he heard that?’ You thought to yourself and turned your gaze away from him, biting the inside of your cheek in an effort to hide your embarrassed smile. As Stephen noticed your cheeks turning red he became aware that you were expressing a different meaning.
Stephen blinks awkwardly, “Ah...” He let out a breathy laugh in an effort to release the weird tension in the air.
The feeling of being extremely flustered made it difficult for you to stand up to your feet. The situation made you feel so embarrassed that you wished the ground would just eat you up and make you disappear. After such an effort, you finally stood your ground, "I guess my training is over, so I plan to leave now." You said almost robotically, your figure turning around stiffly before bolting away.
This particular memory of you made Stephen chuckle, it was so obvious to him that you liked him even though you tried so hard to lie to him about it. Deep inside he knew he felt the same way about you but never acted on it because he was scared of a lot of things; scared of losing something he can’t replace. Now, he regrets not making a move on you when he should have, his mood turning bitter and sour the more he thinks about the matter.
4 days later.
It was four in the morning and Stephen sat near your bed, his upper body lying at the edge of it, waiting for you to squeeze his hand that never left yours. Even though he wasn't supposed to be there, who could stop him when he was so easily capable of opening a portal to you? He would sneak into your room every night to sit by your side and catch up on the hours he had missed being with you over the last five years.
During the course of the morning rounds, a nurse came in to see you and was startled by Stephen’s silhouette. Stephen had fallen asleep, clinging onto your hand as he lay at the edge of your bed. The staff member didn't even question how your visitor was able to enter, knowing that you were an Avenger. She quietly did her morning rounds before leaving the man to be alone with you in the room again.
Stephen woke up when he heard the sounds of the door sliding closed just before the nurse left the room. He immediately jumped up when he realised he had fallen asleep, and rubbed his puffy tired eyes. His initial hopes that he would wake up to you having regained consciousness was crushed. He glanced at the monitor displaying your vital signs and was relieved that everything was at least somewhat stable.
From behind Strange, a portal appeared, and Wong, who was now the Sorcerer Supreme, appeared from Kamar-Taj. Stephen took a quick glance at his friend, but he didn't say a word to him. On the bench by the window, Wong sat contemplatively, looking at the ground as he quietly gathers the words to say from his mind, his heart breaking for you, one of the most talented sorcerers.
“In spite of searching in the astral plane, I was unable to find her.” Stephen muttered in a hoarse voice after having just gotten up from his sleep. Wong remained quiet, his eyes stuck to the ground. Stephen snapped his head towards Wong, anticipating him to say something, however, Wong didn't.
Wong glanced at Stephen who looked at him with wary eyes, “Perhaps her soul never left her body.” Wong finally spoke.
"Perhaps." Stephen repeated, his attention now once again focused on you, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand, “But that’s not all there is, is there?” Stephen asked, noticing that Wong seems to know something he does not know.
Suddenly Wong's eyeline glistened with salty water as he found it extremely difficult to find the words to say what was in his mind; what he and Christine discussed a few hours before over the phone.
After being silent for a longer period of time than he'd like, Stephen looked at Wong again. Wong's reaction to Stephen's question left no words needed to be said. Stephen felt an unpleasant, heavy, sinking sensation in his chest and stomach, he had seen that look so many times before.
“No,” Stephen shook his head in denial, “No, no, no, no.” Stephen scooted closer, bringing your hand against his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks as he closed his eyes, whispering, “(Y/N) wake up, please I’m begging you, wake up.” Stephen’s voice came out cracked and broken against the cool palm of your hand.
“Stephen,” Wong called him, his voice trying to remain strong, “Christine gave me an unexpected call last night,” Wong paused to ease Stephen into it, “Christine said that her brain activity has been declining over the course of a few days... I won't explain to you the meaning since you are the best person to understand.”
Wong was correct, Stephen knew well of what’s to come next. You were entering the vegetative state and it would only be a matter of days or even hours before you become brain dead which would eventually lead to your passing.
Stephen suddenly felt like he was running out of time, “You threatened me that you’ll be Sorcerer Supreme when I come back remember? So why does Wong have that title? I know you can hear me, I'm right here, I'm back and I'm never leaving your side again. Please–you can’t leave me like this, I h-have so much I want to say to you-" Stephen uttered while sounding incoherent to Wong, his words getting caught in his throat as his breathing became irregular, his face flushed a deep shade of red, and his features scrunched up as he tries to embrace the pain he was feeling at the centre of his chest. He couldn’t care less about how he looks right now.
“I don’t know if this will give you comfort but know that she always loved you, Stephen.” Wong, having to see Strange give in to his emotions like this for the first time, placed his hand over Stephen's shoulders giving it a firm squeeze before leaving through the portal teary eyed.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there to protect you. This is exactly what I had feared, and that's why I kept my feelings hidden from you but deep inside I was praying that you and I might end up together, but now I feel as though I have wasted the love you had for me and it’s all my fault. I should’ve told you what you meant to me but I guess this is the cross I have to bear for my pride.
So before you go, I want you to know that I love you. I will miss the warmth of your smile, I’ll miss the way you get flustered in my presence, the way your eyes shine when you look at me; and when I look up at the stars I will remember you.” He swallows hard as he leaned over you to plant a long kiss on your forehead, savoring your scent. He sat back staring at you, trying to take in your visage in person as much as he can, your hands still under his hold, not wanting to let go.
Many of those who knew you came to pay their respects to you after you left this world about two and a half months ago. The majority of those who were present, were now trying to put their lives back together, it was understandable that they all have issues they need to handle. Stephen, however, wasn't one of them.
Stephen wore his grief all too well and it showed in his appearance. With his face so long out of the sun, it seems almost as if it has been leached, which accentuated the dark shadows under his sunken eyes. A shadow is cast over his cheeks by his protruding cheekbones, making his features look gaunt and thin along with his long and unkempt facial hair. Too broken to move on, he became frozen in time, his heart becoming colder and bitter while the world around him forgot that you ever existed.
But how could he move on when everything that surrounded him reminded him of you. You had left your mark in every spell book and every corner of this Sanctum which now felt lonely and eerie, he didn’t dare look into your favourite areas to hang around in, scared to face the reality of you not being there, smiling at him. Every night he dreamt of you, waking up each day leaving him emptier, the hole in his chest bigger; a void that nothing can seem to fill.
Everyone around him seemed to be finding the happiness they were looking for and when Christine got married, she hoped Stephen would be able to find happiness. That night when he came home and had an epiphany; he would find his happiness even if it meant travelling to a different world where it had you in it.
Until he had memorised every page of the Darkhold like the back of his hand, Stephen did not rest. He doesn't care if it takes months, years or decades, only when he finds you in another world then will be able to find peace. He will not stop and he won’t let anyone get in the way.
Due to the intensity of grief that he felt for you, he was blinded to what was happening inside him, as the Darkhold used his vulnerability to fuel his desire to dreamwalk in search of you in another universe. To his dismay, he only found more of himself doing the same mistakes as he did; universe by universe the same mistake again and again and again. The more he dreamwalks the more his self-loathe grows out of control— so he did his own variants a favour and saved them from their future suffering and he called this, mercy.
The sky cracks and rumbles as dark clouds roll over the city of New York, Wong rushed outside of the Sanctum after failing to find Strange inside it. Panic and mania drove people to run and drive wherever they can, matter was melting all around him, the fabric of reality was breaking all because of Stephen’s recklessness. Wong ran back inside to find Stephen at the third floor, peering out the window, watching the world around him pay for his arrogance.
“What have you done?” Wong asked in a sharp tone.
With an evil glint in his eyes, he turned ever so slowly around, a grim sadistic smile spreading from the corners of his mouth,
“Things just got out of hand.”
doctor stephen strange is literally the dilf of the mcu
I feel like this was Wanda 100% throughout the movie with her other dimension self tbh 😂
"i was a sous chef in a restaurant"
the 'teenagers scare the shit outta me' tiktok i've seen of this is fucking hilarious.
Oh PUL-LEASE I'm HELLA lot more clever than some stupid horny teenager such as yourself and the fact that you're indirectly telling me to leave, is an indication that you're threatened by my presence, because I threaten your delusional fantasies about Benedict Cumberbatch and HE'LL NEVER BE YOURS. In fact, I AM GLAD that he found Sophie because his marriage and children have calmed you some of you horny little shits down a bit in the Sherlock fandom. WOW...making it SO obvious about your insecurities about me....and revealing yourself to be a hacker and a voyeur....you're about as bright as black crayon...pffftt...BY THE WAY, stay the fuck OFF my computer, my Microsoft word AND MY PRIVATE TUMBLR, stop being a catty bitch towards other females, and get your ideas ELSEWHERE. I also don't give a shit that you don't like my post of Shirley Holmes on my own computer. BYYYYYEEE.....
Oohhhkkkaayyyyyyy idk who wrote this but clearly you have the wrong person because I have not the slightest clue as to what’s going on. Always double check to see who you're sending things to folks! 😃
My friend and I were tired and did a thing:
I'm curious - you recently changed your header from the Letters Live backstage pic of Benedict 💗 and the motto I love him so much it hurts. Did you mean him specifically, or him and all the characters he encompasses? 😉
(I've called myself a one man woman for some time now - meaning one man...and all his amazing characters 😏 )
hello!! well, i love Benedict's characters, especially Sherlock, Stephen, James, Luke, Martin, Phil, and Patrick. they occupy a special place in my mind and my heart as they are specially sensitive and at some point i can relate to them.
and i do love Benedict too, that kind of love that i admire his passion for his work. he always gives his 100+% in every performance. he's amazingly humble and kind (and not to mention unconventionally beautiful, only ppl with unique taste get it why he's freaking hot)
so yeah, in short, i do love him <3
Sherlock being Sherlock
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Summary: Sherlock undermines Y/N’s intelligence while helping out on a case.
First attempt at writing for Sherlock hope you guys enjoy! 😊
"Shut up would you darling. You're about as sharp as a sack full of soup when it comes to these things-"
"And sadly I don't have the time nor patience to draw a picture using crayons to explain it to you. So make yourself useful by leaving!" Sherlock knocked all the scattered books and papers that littered his desk in frustration, they weren't making any progress in the case they were working and they had hoped that the teacher could be of use but she also hit a block.
"Sherlock! Y/N you don't have to go, he didn’t mean that." John wanted to smack his friend upside his head for speaking to the one woman that meant something to him like she's some piece of garbage.
"He does." Turning on her heels, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door and down the steps, John briefly glared at Sherlock as he chased after her.
"Y/N wait!" She looked over at him as she slipped on her coat to leave. John paused on the second step trying to come up with the right things to say to get her to not walk out the door and quite potentially Sherlock's life.
"He's an ass and says things that shouldn't be said-"
"Like implying that my IQ level is in the bloody trenches, yeah I gathered that."
"He's just Sherlock being Sherlock."
"No, that's Sherlock being an outright twit that doesn't have a filter." Before he could squeeze another word out, Y/N stormed out the door slamming it shut behind her.
"You're wasting time John, she’s of no use to us with our case. We have so much to-" John turned to look at the curly haired man that stood on the landing.
"What the hell was that?! You didn’t have to call her an idiot like that for goodness sake Sherlock, she's an incredible woman. A woman that loves and cares for you, might I add and you're self destruction is surely going to push her away."
"Oh so what?" John rolled his eyes as he stomped his way back up the stairs to their shared flat.
"You are going to apologise and fix this with her because everyone knows that there isn’t going to be another woman to put up with you and your brash behaviour. I don't even know how she's put up with you for nine months." Sherlock hung his head low, his words finally catching up to him. He knows that he did have to rectify his mistake of yelling at her and making her out to be an idiot when in fact, she's remarkably intelligent.
"I'm serious Sherlock, as soon as we wrap this up you are going to fix this."
"No, nope I need to go after her right now."
"No, if you go after her that's only going to end badly for your face."
The rain was pouring down on all of London at eight forty-five at night and Sherlock's pace quickened in the direction of Y/N's home. He shook off the heavy water off of his coat as he took shelter beneath the awning over her front door.
Y/N placed her bookmark in the current novel she was reading and set it off to the side. The doorbell rung again and this time she willed herself from under her blanket and off the couch to go answer the door. It's raining cats and dogs outside so whoever was at her door had to have a good reason to be.
"Hello- oh, it's you."
"Hello, may I?" As much as she would rather not let him into her home it was cold and wet outside and by the looks of it, he had walked here in the pouring rain; and she didn't want him to catch a cold. She headed back up the stairs to her flat leaving Sherlock to let himself in and remove his coat as well as his shoes.
"Why are you here, Holmes? My level of intelligence is miniscule compared to yours and I'm sure you'd rather be in the company of someone that shares your level of competence." Sherlock watched quietly as she fastened her robe to her body to cover up herself. Y/N was still angry at him for earlier and he knew that. He stood in the middle of her living space, dripping water onto her hardwood flooring.
"You know where your clothes are go change, your creating a puddle." Y/N put the kettle on to make tea for the both of them, not like he deserved anything other than a proper slap across the face. While he was changing he tried to formulate the right way to handle this without shoving his foot in his mouth.
"Could we sit down dear?"
"Nope, I'm good right where I am in the kitchen, you could stay all the way over there."
"Don't want me close to you?"
"Unless you want to be bashed in the head with this kettle I think it's best if you stay far away from me." Sherlock brushed off her bluff, closing the distance between them with his long strides. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared into the pair of blue eyes she's grown to love as he stood mere centimeters away from her.
"For what exactly?"
"For losing my temper, yelling and for saying something I didn't mean. I didn't mean it when I called you useless or made a comment on your intellect, it was the spur of the moment. I was frustrated and I took it out on you when you were only trying to help." Sherlock brushed his knuckles against her cheek and she instinctively leaned into his touch bringing a smile to his face.
"I get that you were frustrated but that isn't a valid excuse Sherlock. You called me darling and a useless idiot in the same breath."
"I know darling and I promise it'll never happen again. Allow me to make it up to you." The towering man kissed the crown of her head, cheek and bridge of her nose making her heart flutter at his affection.
"You've got your work cut out for you Mr. Holmes because I'm not going to make it easy for you and your astonishing brilliance."
"I do love a challenge."
"I know." Sherlock finally pressed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss which was cut short by her kneeling him in the groin. He grunted in pain and stumbled back, holding his crotch in pain. Y/N smiled watching as he doubled over still groaning in agony.
"I deserved that."
Honestly don't know if I'll keep writing for Sherlock but we'll see.