#Strangebatch

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

For all of its problems, there are still things I truly enjoy about Multiverse of Madness. Things that reflect some of Stephen's best qualities. Like his complete and immediate willingness to sacrifice his life, and even his own soul, to protect even just one other person.

We've seen this quality over and over on his MCU journey ~ and though it's a completely thankless job, he never hesitates. What the Ancient One properly called his capacity for goodness.

And the absolute brilliance and flexibility of his beautiful mind - coupled with the magic that he's built far beyond what he learned in Kamar-Taj. Dreamwalking into his own, dead Variant!

Seizing the Souls of the Damned and fashioning them into a Cloak to fly him across to Wundagore...and then using them to entrap Wanda (enough to slow her down, anyway)! Show me another MCU Sorcerer with that same ability to think out of the box and such incredible magic; magic worthy of the Sorcerer Supreme in any universe.

[a-victorian-girl]

OMG!!! This POST!!!

Doctor Strange, your Sherlock is showing.

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Me, having read too many MCU updates and realizing that Stephen Strange has become a mere afterthought to the whole franchise.

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

'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

[groovy-lady]

Which Stephen Strange figure is better and looks the closest like Benedict Cumberbatch???🤔 (pics found on Amazon and Google search.)

*Marvel Select Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness Action Figure (the base on this one is awesome!)

*Marvel Legends Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness Collectible (I love his little grin on this figure)

*Marvel Legends Doctor Strange Astral Form Figure (I love his face! He looks very calm here.)

*Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness Deluxe Figurine Playset

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

I'm watching Doctor Strange 2016, and I simply adore the interaction between Stephen and Christine from when he shows up stabbed through to the end when he leaves through the portal to the Sanctum. These are two people who speak an unbroken language with one another, as if no time has really passed since their last (albeit angry) conversation. That's how well they know each other; that's true testament to the love that is rooted between them. And the ease of being and chemistry between Benedict & Rachel was so natural...and unquenchable.

Oh my heart! 💔��💔I'm still wishing with my entire being that MCU Clea was a Variant of Christine.

[boop-le-snoot]

Armani Strange fucked me up, tore me limb from limb and put me back together. The things I would let this man do to me surely violate some international conventions or something.

[huxs-waifu]

10,000 Nights - Final Chapter - Greek tragedy **Smut**

Chapter Summary:

So here we are at the final chapter of this story, We have the Honeymoon enjoy the final smut , as always please drop a comment.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me and this fiction for the last 2 years! It's really been a labour of love and opened so many doors for me. Please do not threat though this is not the end of Chrissy and my strange - I've got an NSFW alphabet and a few extras coming.

AS well as a spin-off/ sequel series - the working title is Norse/Greek Tragedy. So if you want to know what happens to Chalice in the future this will be her story! with a particular Trickster god named Loki ;) along with her relationship with mum and dad but not as you expect.

Part Twelve - can be found here

A03 link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30666221/chapters/93492631

Playlist - https://huxs-waifu.tumblr.com/post/650653939084279808/via

Masterlist - https://huxs-waifu.tumblr.com/post/670776247958257664/10000-nights-masterlist-the-cloak-seems-intent

After the wedding, we retired to a honeymoon suite that Tony had offered up. Stephen carried me over the threshold traditionally not via a portal, he decided he wanted at least some normal parts of a wedding. That was the whole point of having a second wedding.

Strange practically tumbled me onto the bed and started loosening his tie.

"Woah someone can't wait tonight, relax it's our honeymoon" sitting up and taking his hands in mine gently taking the fingers away from the loosened tie.

"I want to make another one. A baby that is not an interdimensional rift"

"You want another one already. Like literally right now. You know how much trouble chalice caused us"

"Well my little wife. I want to make lot with you. Plus it's a lot more fun making one intentionally ."

"Ok calm down Daddy," I smirked. A pang jolted through Stephen, his blue eyes dilated.

"You finally did it. You called me Daddy!"

"Oh, no little one you will be calling me Daddy from now on. No more of that old man business." Grabbing my ass pulling me into him, as I stood up from the bed. his dress trousers are straining half-mast already. "Do you understand how delicious that sounds coming out of your mouth, wife?"

"I'd been saving it up. Anyway, you ARE a daddy now old man" getting on my knees,

Poking him in the chest. Before continuing to take off the tie.

"Well if I can't continue with the old man routine.  What about you calling me little one? I'm not that girl you followed into a wine closet."

"No, you're not. Yes, it does work both ways. You are a woman. A bright celestial goddess. You are all women to me. Every inch of your curves, your pinprick scars that litter your body. Your blood that runs hot and your milk that flows to feed our child. Are all women, My wife" capturing our lips together. “Now Goddess, I wish for you to get back on this bed.”

“In the dress still?” Swaying the skirts of the tulle back and forth. Watching his eyes change to that of hunger, like a snake being hypnotised by the movement. ”Be a shame to waste the lingerie underneath, i know how much you adore your Wife in it”

A low growl escapes his mouth in pleasure, before flicking his hand to the side of him the dress falling off around my ankles and sliding away much as the cape does with its scared. Bared to him the pump this time was attached to my arm hidden by the voluminous sleeves of the dress. “You never fail to surprise me my goddess with your pump-hiding skills”

“Face it it's one of the reasons you like me.”

“Oh its up there on the list with many things I love about you Chrissy. Including your underwear choices.” his hands reach out enjoying touching the golden yellow bra cup, the silk gliding over his fingertips. Not that he could feel it but silk gave his hands a nice cooling sensation. The white lace edges contrasted beautifully, and don't even get him started on the thong that was barely there.

Looking up at him I capture his lips again, his grip tightening on my breast. “It's time to get you undressed too.” whispering between kisses. I grab hold of his wrist though before he can magically remove them.” no magic!” As I discard his suit jacket, he stops groping me to shake his hands in defeat. Getting to work on the shirt buttons. Every Centimetre relieved of his porcelain skin had me giddy with joy. My hand sliding inside his shirt to feel the skin-to-skin contact, making light tracings over this well-toned lean pecs before continuing the shirt removal.

“We're going to be all night if you keep up like this.”

“Paintance Wizard, we've got the rest of our lives together.”

“Well the former supreme has waited 1000’s years , I think I owe it to him to speed this up.” flicking his trousers off to join the rest of the suit. before taking each side of my face and receiving a hungry kiss. My own hands are firmly pressed on his chest as he walks me backwards onto the bed. “Now my beautiful wife do as I say and spread those legs.”

Moving into the centre of the bed, complying with his demands. Coyly opening my legs wide to show off the barely-there underwear.The bed dipped lightly as he sits in front on his knees eys filled with lust before even touching me his hands connecting to my hips all the same. As with his best grip possible the coolness of them glade down the sides of the thong. Removing them “see you don't need magic to do everything.”

“You always say that but I do”

“No, you don't, I love your hands. I love every inch of you. Your amazing magic or not.”

“Darling, you are the most wonderful person in the world.” As strange dips capturing my lips his fingers start to weave in and out of my folds with his fingers. A moan escapes me and into his mouth, causing him to smirk. “Please allow me to give you pleasure before you give me mine. Goddess, I intend to worship all of you tonight. Kissing down my jaw, over the clavicle, across the shoulder and stopped kissing above the pump. “That's every part of you.” fingers enter deeper making a sweet scissoring motion before drawing back out.

A low husky mewl releases from me as they pull out completely. The doctor positioned himself in front letting his ridge member slap a couple of times before finding his placement inside me.The sticky sloppy draw of my pussy dragged up and down Stephens's cock. He looked upon me with a gleeful grin, eyes connecting in the darkness. Before a flash of madness passed through them his thrusts became ploughing movements making the bed squeak with every pump of hips. Making sure to bottom out every time. My body gladly takes every inch of him and more.

Growling sitting up, I hooked an arm around his neck and legs around his waist. The thrusts are deep and lounging as we grind against one another. Lost in the ecstasy of the sweaty lust filled the room. Sweat dripping down our bodies, I closed my eyes only to be met by his forehead against mine. “ Look at me Chrissy, I want you to look into my eyes as I take you over the edge.”Swallowing feeling the change in movement to one of eager pace, hitting the indie of me in that special place. His hands hooked into the hair at the back of my head. Opening my eyes to see my now husband looking so intensely at my face. “Fucking celestial.”

At those words my body broke down into its release, Stephan chasing his own in three more powerful blows. His seed becoming nestled in me, time stopped as if the stone in the eye knew we needed it.

The morning after.

Placing a hand on his chest pushing Strange back into the pillows. The White silk of the honeymoon suite is the complete difference from the sumptuous red of the sanctum four-poster bed. Tracking each mole and scar lazily before giving a soft kiss to the centre of his body.

As I draw back up. His hands grab at the ample and tender breast flesh hanging above him. Kneading the skin."I can feel it. Your heart is beating."

"Beats only for you, Stephen "

"I love you. I can't tell you enough." Moving his hand from my body clutching at my face. "I never want to be lonely again. I'm glad i found you in this universe, makes me almost feel sad for the others in theirs, that don't have you."

Bending over, the style of hair coming unravelled one side. Placing a kiss on his lips. Smooching away at my now husband. Kneed on top straddling him. "I want to tell you how much I love every day. Spend 10,000 nights with you and 10,000 more."

So we spend every night together from that moment on. A good year when by, with love and laughter. Until that one faithful day when, a spaceship crashed and Strange ran after tony.

*SNAP*

@too-short-for-my-own-good @avengershumanresources​ @fluffyprettykitty​ @d0ct0rstrangewife @type1diabetesinfandom @strangelockd​

[b-editions]

"What if the best of intentions has very... Strange consequences."

[forbiddenstrange]

a little something to dream upon

source 

@dxctorstephenstrange​

[a-victorian-girl]

My 2nd favorite doctor...

✧GIFTOBER 2022 (+ @mcuchallenge) | Day 23: Full Body.

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Watching No Way Home and I just wanna shout:

Isn't he MAGNIFICENT!!! - at the sight of the magic literally flowing from Stephen's hands in his final scene 🥰🥰🥰

...and also...

Please, oh please, can't we just have some more of Stephen mentoring Peter Parker and America Chavez? PLEEEEEESE??? That's not too much to ask for, is it?🥺🥺🥺

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

The bill comes due...

But Stephen would do it again if the choice were given him. For America. For Wong. For the Multiverse, which would be in dire jeopardy if Wanda obtained America's powers.

Doctor Strange (2016) dir. Scott Derrickson

[boop-le-snoot]

I am looking absolutely disrespectfully. I don't even have enough brain cells to make a generic witty comment. No thoughts. Void. Null.

[b-editions]

Knock Knock.

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

🎄Wrapped Up In Christmas Memories🎄

a Stephen Strange x Hope Collins fic

genre: fluff & Christmas to begin with; angst, catharsis, with healing later...and as always, love❤️💚

characters: Stephen Strange, Hope Collins (OFC), established relationship

word count: 2.6k

Reposting from last December as edits have been made, prior to finally completing this fic ☃️🩵🎄

moodboard by the very generous @strangedreamings 💙🩵💜

Chapter One

Stephen should have known that he had fallen in love with a Christmas person. Should have been prepared for what was in store for him come late November. Hope's enthusiasm for all things Yuletide was exactly in keeping with her nature--and of course, she had no way of knowing that when it came to Christmastime, his past had shaped him into a bit of a Grinch.

A week or so before Thanksgiving, she'd brought a mysterious shopping bag to the Sanctum and set it discretely in a corner of the living room portion of his suite. When he'd asked what was inside, she'd flashed him a pert smile and smiling eyes as she answered, "Darling, that's for me to know, and you to find out. Eventually." Then sashayed away, humming 'Good King Wenceslas'. Yup, he should've known then that Hope was...was very much a Who.

They had shared a quiet, homey Thanksgiving; Hope had eagerly prepared a little feast for them, along with far too many desserts prepped in a flurry of baking in the 48 hours ahead of time. "There's supposed to be an abundance of leftovers," she had insisted when Stephen groused that they could never finish it all, "And in my family tradition, the freezer was always stuffed with packages of turkey, potatoes, and what have you--enough for a meal a week 'til nearly Christmas." And she'd relished the sight of him digging into those leftovers--along with a healthy serving of her apple-ginger pie--as a midnight snack, looking every bit the adorable 'told ya so' when she grabbed a fork to help him polish off the pie.

When they'd finally settled into bed and snuggled close, Stephen was happy to tell Hope it had been his best Thanksgiving in decades--and that perhaps it could be the start of traditions of their own. "Good," she replied, kissing his neck and then resting her head on his shoulder, "There's more I'd love to share with you. If you don't mind...starting tomorrow."

Stephen's own family traditions always felt like dusty, ancient history now; memories he seldom allowed himself to dwell upon for the heartbreak of the losses of his sister Donna, and later his mother Beverly, who had never fully recovered emotionally from Donna's death. He sighed hard, not wishing to spoil the moment, but feeling he should give his love fair warning. "If it's Christmas related, Hope--I'm really not that guy..."

"Oh, Stephen," she started to protest.

"I don't wanna disappoint you, honey, but I...I gave up Christmas a loooong time ago..."

"Gave up Christmas?" Hope tutted. "You don't strike me as a Scrooge..."

"I'm not. Of course I'm not," he countered gently, "There's just a lot of...baggage...that I gave up carrying. Decades ago." For my own peace of mind, he thought but didn't add. "I mean, I'll be happy to see how you embrace the season, Hope, but um..."

"Alright, " she told him, laying her palm above his heart, which he always found soothing. "I promise to be mindful of your...baggage...if you help me with just one tradition tomorrow. "

Stephen's turn to quietly sigh with his intent to cooperate, "Just the one? Seems a fair bargain to make...if you can stick to it."

"Just the one--I promise," Hope laughed softly, "And after that, well...I'll go about my Christmasing without the sort of fuss that might bother you."

Though he could practically feel the wheels in her head turning to come up with a way to change his view of the season, he chuckled, "It's a deal then. So what will we be doing tomorrow?"

"Getting a tree, of course. That was my mom's thing. Tree goes up the day after Thanksgiving...and comes down on New Years Day. Although, since I've been on my own, I keep it up however long I want. It's an excellent remedy for the mid-winter doldrums."

"A tree it'll be, then," he promised, reaching to turn off his bedside lamp, "And then I'm out."

"Like a light", Hope assured him. "Now, do you wanna be the big spoon or little spoon tonight?"

"Big," he replied, flipping onto his side, then sliding his arm around her waist when she turned to fit herself against him. Stephen brushed his lips on her ear, "For what it's worth, honey, I hope you have some sugar plum dreams tonight."

"Thanks, Stephen," she murmured, clearly on her way to sleep, "Love you too."

By the time Hope awoke the next morning, Stephen had already worked out a plan to keep his promise. One which would involve him in as little Christmas fuss as possible. A quick online search had yielded a few spots in the Village itself where they could find fresh cut trees. After breakfast, he discreetly portaled the two of them to a side street off of Hudson Street, where they found a popular Christmas market adjacent to a city park.

Hope had been so delighted by his initiative that he had felt it necessary to remind her that this would be his sole contribution to the Christmas decorating. She had batted her eyes prettily with her reply, "As you wish," but to Stephen, it had felt more like she was saying, "We'll see about that."

They settled on a seven foot Balsam fir, which Stephen had insisted on paying for out of his Sanctum Master's monthly stipend. The warmth of the lingering kiss she pressed to his cheek in thanks was absolutely worth that investment, and Hope's happiness was a gift that thoroughly warmed his heart. Being quite pleased by how swiftly they'd accomplished their chore--and surprised that the task felt far more pleasant than he'd anticipated--Stephen arranged to have the tree delivered to Bleecker Street by mid-afternoon.

Hope had wandered over to a group of stalls featuring hand-crafted Christmas decorations, and by the time he joined her, she had a small brown shopping bag in hand. He offered her his arm, "Shall we?"

"Shall we what," she countered impishly.

"Head back home."

"Oh...well...", she bit her lip, mulling over her answer for a few moments, "You go on ahead, darling. There's just a few more things I'd like to pick up..."

Stephen hummed, studying her face for any sign that this was a coy play to get him to stay after all. Seeing only sincerity, he found himself offering to stick around anyway. "Thanks, but no, Stephen," she assured him, "I shouldn't be too long--and I did promise not to bother you beyond the tree. You won't even have time to miss me; I'm sure I'll get there before the tree even does."

Stephen hadn't expected her to be so easily accommodated. "Are you sure, honey? I can spare a while longer if...if you'd like me to."

Hope moved in close, placed her hands on his shoulders, and kissed his other cheek. "I appreciate the offer, darling," she husked, "But how about you get a nice fire going in the hearth in your quarters, so they'll be all toasty for when I decorate the tree this afternoon?" She backed away and beamed him a smile, then turned to explore the market further without a further word.

Stephen stood on the sidewalk, the relief at being let off the expected Christmas hook colored with the surprising disappointment that Hope hadn't even tried to ask for more beyond her promise. She's probably got other plans in mind, he decided; bet she's just softening me up for that. Hands tucked deep into his coat pockets against the growing chill in the air--they'd begun to ache in the way that told him snow was on the way--he headed back to the side street, and portaled back home.

The snow arrived before Hope did, with the tree being delivered about a half-hour later. By then, Stephen had a crackling fire going in the hearth and had even used magic to set up a tree stand before one of the front windows of the living room.

Rosy-cheeked from the cold and bearing two Balsam wreaths decked with red ribbons, sprigs of holly & berries, and mini white lights, Hope appeared to be the embodiment of Christmas cheer. "I figured now that it's no secret that a magical building is part of the neighborhood," she explained in answer to the question in his eyes, "You'd at least want the Sanctum to look a little festive..."

Stephen gave a heavy sigh as he conceded that point to her. And though she didn't ask, he cast a spell to keep the wreaths in place on the Sanctum's double doors, with reinforcement to keep them fresh and green for however long they hung there. He would go on to use the same spell for the Christmas tree awaiting decorating in his quarters.

After lunch, Hope practically shooed Stephen from the room when she began to string lights on the fragrant evergreen. With a vintage selection of Christmas carols playing in the background, she was determined to keep her promise to him. "Besides, I'd like to surprise you with the ornaments I've picked. So go keep busy with whatever wizarding stuff is on your agenda, and I'll come get you for the big reveal."

Lazy snowflakes continued to fall well past dusk, looking pretty and perfectly seasonal outside the Sanctum windows, though little stuck to the streets and pavements. Hope had finally popped her head past the door to his study several hours after she'd sent him away and invited Stephen to come check out the product of her efforts. Her excitement felt contagious--and once he spied the tree, Stephen knew she had good reason for her enthusiasm.

She had dimmed the lights for maximum effect, showing off the slow, steady twinkle of the white lights that graced every branch of the tree. The ornaments were a mix of dark blue and gold bells and balls, variously sized, and many of them sprinkled with golden glitter.

Featured among them were larger, glassblown ornaments shaped as suns, moons, and stars, as well as other traditional celestial symbols. The total effect was breathtaking--and a telling reminder that Hope was an Artist, deep down to her soul.

Watching him take in the full picture, her eyes sparkled with joyful anticipation of his response. Stephen's jaw had dropped, and he remained speechless as he circled the tree before he came to stand at Hope's side, pulling her to him with one arm around her back. "This is...marvelous, honey. Fantastic. Beautiful...and...and..."

"And nearly perfect for a Master of the Mystic Arts," she replied, a slight tremor in her voice, "Don't you think so, anyway?

Stephen nodded and laid a kiss on top of her head. "I can't imagine anything more perfect, Hope," he agreed, his voice grown thick with emotion. "You were planning this for a while, weren't you?"

"Only since mid-September," she laughed, then pointed to a stained-glass disk depicting the zodiac circling a stylized sun. "I saw that one at a craft fair, and it just sort of...inspired...the whole thing."

"I should've expected something this..." Stephen searched for the perfect word to describe not only the tree, but the sentiment her gift had him feeling, "...grand...from you, honey. Grand. Grand and perfect."

"It's actually a little short of perfect, Stephen," she confessed difidently.

"No, Hope...honey...it's perfect for me," he insisted, "Both as a wizard and as a man."

"I don't mean in that way, darling. It's...it's unfinished," she sighed, motioning to the crowning branch. "It's in want of a star."

"Aaaaaaah." Stephen let the moment linger before smirking, "And is that by design, or just something you overlooked?"

"I just can't reach it," came her plaintive, honest reply.

"I see." Stephen could feel how hard she was trying not to ask for his help, in light of her promise to him. How dear that was to him! A simple yet beautiful truth about this woman he loved. How could he not offer to help? "You know, I wouldn't mind adding the finishing touch, honey. If you'd allow me to, of course."

"I suppose that'll be alright, darling. If you wouldn't mind too much."

"Not at all," he told her, truthfully. "Do you have one, or shall I conjure something to match your theme?"

"Hold on," she replied, making a beeline to a dark pink box perched on the side table by the sofa. Hope removed an object swathed in tissue paper, unwrapping it very gingerly when she returned to his side. "This star is over a hundred years old. It came to America with my great-grandmother when she arrived from Ireland back in 1921. It passes to the eldest daughter in each generation..."

"And you're the lucky winner," Stephen observed in a hushed tone, immediately adopting the same reverence with which Hope handled the fragile antique.

"Yes," she sniffled softly. "Mom was the middle child, but her older sister didn't have any girls, so when she passed away, it came to me. That was during The Snap years. Once my mother came back, she never really recovered from finding out her sister had died alone, without the comfort of her closest friend and family member."

Stephen's first thought was of his own mother, Beverly, and of the colorless Christmases between Donna's death and her own. In the face of Hope's bittersweet revelation, he couldn't bring himself to express his observation; that grief had been his mother's cause of death as well.

Hope took note of the pain that briefly flickered across his features. "Stephen, are you alright? You looked so sad, all of a sudden."

The smallest voice in his head gave an ironic retort. Doctor, why don't you take your own advice and heal yourself for a change? Share your story with Hope, and by doing so, maybe you can put your own ghosts to rest.

"Oh, honey, I'm just...just so, so sorry for your loss. I know that grief doesn't take holidays, and there are times it hits so hard, it feels like the one we've lost...that it only happened yesterday." Mindful of the crystal star in his hands, he drew Hope into his arms, then rested his chin atop her head. "But the best comfort, I'm told, is remembering the best of times you shared with them."

Maybe so, he told himself. But not now; not tonight. I'm not ready to face that kind of pain just yet. And the small voice answered: of course you aren't. It seems you never are.

Stephen shook off that moment of weakness--as he always did. And with the gentlest charm he could manage, he floated Hope's star to the top of the tree and fixed it safely in place. That drew from Hope her prettiest smile, so that he dared a change of subject. "Well, in light of the heavy lifting I've just done, I think it's time we fix ourselves some turkey and gravy sandwiches and maybe watch 'The Grinch'. It's one of the few Christmas movies I actually enjoy."

"Jim Carey or the DreamWorks one," Hope asked as they headed, arm in arm, toward the closer of the two Sanctum kitchens.

"Jim Carey," he asserted with a grin, "The other is far too sentimental for my liking."

If you enjoyed this little fic so far, you can read more about how Stephen & Hope met and fell in love in my stories 'Friday in the Park with Stephen' (meet-cute, flirtation & fluff), and 14,000,604 (hurt/comfort, angst, passion/smut, lovers reunited against impossible odds).

In addition, I've written a couple of one-shots/promt fills as part of their ongoing series The Wizard and the Artist.