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pickingupmymercedes · 1 month

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All these little things - Lewis Hamilton

Lots of fluff. 9 snippets of fluff to be exact (plus 9 more to come on Sunday - pt 2)

Also there's 20 more fluffs just like these ones - Ways to say I love you and Ways to say I love you pt. 2

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +3k

a/n: I've gotten so many requests for fluff Lewis, regular things with Lewis, just Lewis being a bf/husband. So,I hope you guys enjoy mostly domestic moments with him.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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Late night snack

The rhythmic rumble of a passing truck vibrated through the floor, a jarring counterpoint to the silence pressing against her eardrums. Jet lag, the unwelcome souvenir of her whirlwind trip to Paris, had her wide awake at 3:14 am, staring at the unfamiliar shapes of Lewis's NY apartment.

Her stomach, thankfully, didn't mirror the wide-awake state. In fact, the thought of food sent a shudder through her. But the disorienting quietness, punctuated only by the city's lullaby of honking horns, demanded some kind of action.

She slipped out of bed, the cool floor a stark contrast to the plush carpets of the bedroom. Padding down the hallway, she felt a strange sense of displacement. This wasn't their Monaco or London apartment, but Lewis's NYC one, and while they’ve been living together for a while they would seldom stay there.

The warm glow of the kitchen light drew her like a moth to a flame. She rummaged through the fridge, her fingers brushing against a carton of leftover takeout, a half-eaten bag of kale chips, and a jar of something labeled "Grandma's Pickles."

Just as she opened the jar, a sleepy voice filled the doorway.

"Night pick me up?" Lewis stood there, hair tousled and eyes crinkled with sleep. He wore a worn t-shirt that hung tight on his broad frame, and even in the dim light, she could see the rumpled remnants of a smile playing on his lips.

"Couldn't sleep" she mumbled, putting the pickle jar on the island.

"Jet lag?" He crossed the room, his presence filling the previously empty space. She nodded, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. "Yeah, I guess."

He leaned closer, his scent - a mix of cologne and the lingering warmth of sleep - washing over her. "Next time, call me so we can raid the fridge together" he teased, his eyes twinkling.

She stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "They're Grandma's Pickles! How could I resist?"

He reached out, taking the jar gently, setting it on the counter. He pulled her to his body, his embrace a warm haven in the cool night. "You know," he said, his lips brushing against her ear, sending shivers down her spine, "sometimes the best cure for jet lag is a good cuddle."

She laughed. "Is that a doctor's recommendation, Dr. Hamilton?" He pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "The most handsome doctor you know," he corrected, before leaning down and capturing her lips in a soft kiss.

The kiss was slow and sweet, a gentle reassurance. Pulling away, Lewis rested his forehead on hers, his voice a warm rumble against her skin. "Truth is," he admitted, "I woke up missing you."

Lazy sunday Mornings

The silence was almost unsettling. Lewis, accustomed to the constant hum of activities, found the stillness of his mom's house almost jarring.

He cracked open one eye, surprised to see a sliver of sunlight already peeking through the curtains. It was way too early for a lazy Sunday morning, especially after a grueling season.

He glanced over at Y/n, her head buried in the crook of his neck, fast asleep. A soft smile tugged at his lips. He loved seeing her so relaxed, the worry lines on her forehead smoothed out, a gentle rhythm rising and falling with her breath.

He reached out, tracing a fingertip down her cheek, the temptation to wake her with a kiss strong. But before he could act, a soft groan escaped Y/n's lips. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking sleepily at him. "Morning" Lewis murmured; his voice rough with disuse.

Y/n stretched; her smile sleepy but undeniably beautiful. "Too early" she mumbled, pulling him closer. Lewis chuckled, wrapping his arm around her. "Couldn't sleep," he admitted. "The silence is...different."

Y/n laughed softly. "Close your eyes" she said, her voice a soothing whisper.

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Before he could ask, she began gently tracing the back of her finger to the bridge of his nose. It was an unexpected sensation, a light tickle that soothed something within him. He felt his eyelids growing heavy, the rhythmic move lulling him back to sleep.

He drifted off in a haze, fragments of dreams swirling around him. A couple of hours, punctuated by the occasional weird dream, must have passed because the next thing he knew, a high-pitched squeal pierced the peaceful silence.

"Uncle Lewis! Wake up!"

Lewis groaned, burying his head under the pillow. Another voice, slightly deeper this time, chimed in. "Come on, Auntie Y/n! Uncle Lewis is being a lazy bum again!"

Y/n giggled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Sorry, my secret weapon doesn’t work on them”

Lewis peeked out from under the pillow to see his niece and nephew bouncing on the bed, their faces alight with excitement. There went his peaceful Sunday morning, but the sight of their bright smiles chased away any lingering sleepiness. It was time to be Uncle Lewis for the day.

Roscoe photos

Y/N stifled a yawn, her eyes glazing over at the endless stream of spreadsheets projected on the screen. The board meeting droned on, each statistic sounding more monotonous than the last. Glancing around the table, she saw her colleagues diligently taking notes, their expressions an equal mix of concentration and fatigue.

A notification buzzed on her phone, a welcome distraction. Unlocking it, she saw a picture on Instagram – a close-up of Roscoe staring intently at the camera with his tongue lolling out in a comical fashion. The message: "Deep in thought... about treats?"

Y/N chuckled silently, the image instantly bringing a smile. She quickly tapped a like, then sent a playful message back to Lewis: "Looks like someone's plotting world domination... or maybe just the next jar raid."

Before she could put her phone down, another notification popped up. This time, the picture was Roscoe sprawled across a fluffy white rug, toasting in a sunbeam. The caption: "Living my best life. Don't be jealous."

Y/N couldn't help but grin. Lewis clearly had a newfound time killer – chronicling Roscoe's every move.

Over the next hour, the barrage of photos continued. There was Roscoe sporting a pair of tiny sunglasses, another with a flower crown perched precariously on his head, and yet another napping in a miniature F1 car. Each picture accompanied by a silly caption, making Y/N laugh silently behind her hand.

The sheer absurdity of it all was a welcome escape from the monotony of the meeting. She pictured Lewis, presumably bored at his own meeting, deciding to entertain her with Roscoe's antics.

It was a sweet gesture, a silent way of connecting with her amidst their busy schedules.

Finally, silence descended upon the boardroom as the meeting concluded. Y/N stretched, a relieved sigh escaping her lips. Reaching for her phone, she sent a final message to Lewis: "Thanks for the Roscoe spam. You made this meeting a bit more bearable!"

Almost instantly, her phone buzzed again. A new picture filled the screen – this time, it was Lewis himself, a sheepish grin on his face, with Roscoe perched on his lap. The caption read: "Just your average meeting attendees. Don't tell Toto."

Cramps

A dull pain ripped through Y/N, jolting her awake. Moonlight streamed through the bedroom window, casting the room in a soft, silvery glow. Disoriented for a moment, she blinked back trying to grasp what was happening.

The monthly visitor arrived at least once every cycle, and tonight was no different.

Throwing off the covers, she shuffled towards the kitchen, her body a symphony of discomfort. Reaching for the familiar bottle of pain relief on the top shelf, she fumbled slightly, wincing at another twinge. Grabbing a glass of water, she popped a couple of pills and made her way back to the bedroom, hoping the medication would kick in soon.

Sliding back under the covers, she snuggled in beside Lewis, who stirred slightly in his sleep. A moan escaping her lips as another cramp flared up.

Sensing her discomfort, Lewis sleeply wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. "Everything alright, love?" his voice was thick with sleep, but still holding concern.

"Just the usual," she mumbled, burrowing deeper into his warmth. "Cramps." He understood. They'd talked about it before.

Without a word, he shifted their positions, maneuvering her back to his chest and reaching his hands under her shirt to rest gently on her lower abdomen. A silent communication, a shared language they'd built over time.

His touch was soothing, a welcome contrast to the ache radiating from within. His large hands, usually so strong, felt surprisingly gentle as they pressed against her skin. The warmth seemed to seep into her, easing the tension knot by knot. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as he acted as her own human sized heating bag.

As the cramps eased, Y/N snuggled closer. She could have sworn she felt Lewis's lips brush against the back of her head, a silent promise of being there for her.

Winning Celebration

The rhythmic crash of waves against the Monaco shoreline provided a calming white noise backdrop to the quiet murmurs in Lewis' living room. Sunlight, filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting an especially warm string of light to the tangled mess of limbs sprawled under a thin duvet.

Lewis, his bare chest lightly dusted with golden sunlight, held Y/n close, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the small of her back.

"You were incredible this weekend" Y/n whispered, her voice husky. "That overtake at Sainte Devote? Pure magic."

Lewis chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated against her ear. "Just had a feeling " he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Course you did" Y/n continued, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as he leaned down to place a soft kiss on her neck.

Just then, the sound of the front door creaking open shattered the peaceful intimacy. A loud, slightly slurred voice echoed through the apartment, "Alright, I brought those-"

The voice, belonging to one of Lewis' friend, cut off abruptly as the realization of what he'd walked in on dawned on him. He stood frozen for a beat, his eyes widening at the sight of them entangled on the living room rug, bathed in sunlight.

"Don't mind me" Daniel finally stammered, his voice thick with embarrassment and amusement "I'm clearly way too drunk for this. Don’t worry I won't be remembering any of this."

Y/n buried her face in Lewis' chest, a strangled giggle escaping her lips. Lewis, meanwhile, burst into laughter, the tension dissolving into a wave of relief and amusement.

"Typical" Lewis chuckled, shaking his head. "Always the party crasher."

Y/n peeked up from his chest, a playful glint in her eyes. "See? Told you he wouldn't be fazed," she teased, remembering a previous, similar incident involving a particularly enthusiastic post-podium celebration.

Lewis grinned, pulling her closer. "Seems you were right" he admitted, his voice laced with affection. "Now, how about we get ourselves to the bedroom before he decides to join us?"

Y/n raised an eyebrow playfully. "Sorry, I don’t share." Her lips crashing into his as he brought her even closer.

Stargazing

The humid costal Cape Town air hung thick and heavy as Y/N and Lewis stepped out onto their hotel balcony. A million diamond-like stars glittered across the velvet expanse of the sky at the distant villa they were staying at.

"The night sky here is so clear" Lewis breathed, tilting his head back to take it all in.

Y/N smiled, a wave of nostalgia washing over her. "Look south," she instructed, pointing towards a constellation of four bright stars forming a perfect cross. "See that? That's the Southern Cross."

Lewis squinted, following her finger. "The Southern Cross? I've never seen it before."

"It's not visible from most places in Europe" she explained. "It's our signpost back in South America. My dad always says that whenever we get lost, all we have to do is find the Southern Cross. It always points south, it points home."

A warm feeling spread through her chest as she pointed to each star in the cross. "See, the little arm on the left is Mimosa, and the one on the right, slightly dimmer, is Pálida - 'pale' in portuguese. The longer arm pointing north is called Rubídea, and the longest one, pointing due south, that's the Magalhães star, named after the explorer."

Lewis chuckled. "And the one in the middle, kind of squeezed between the right arm and the south one?"

Y/N grinned. "That's Intrometida," she declared. "It means 'nosy'. It's the odd one out, just hanging out there in the middle."

Lewis laughed, a low rumble in his chest. " Fits the description."

They stood in comfortable silence for a while, simply gazing up at the breathtaking display of stars. The vastness of the universe felt humbling, and yet, the familiarity of the Southern Cross, a beacon from her childhood, brought a sense of comfort.

"Thank you for showing me this" Lewis finally said, his voice soft as his fingers reached for hers and he held her gazer "But my favorite part of this view is right here beside me."

Late night driving

Rain lashed against the windshield, blurring the neon glow of oncoming traffic into streaks of light. The countryside, usually a picturesque blur of rolling hills and quaint villages, was now an inky expanse punctuated by the occasional farmhouse windows alight.

Y/N gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, the late-night drive back home to London starting to feel endless.

A glance at the passenger seat revealed Lewis, his head resting back against the headrest, a peaceful expression on his face. He was supposed to be in charge of the music for the long journey, but exhaustion, brought on by a long day of meetings at the factory, had clearly won him over.

Y/N stifled a yawn, her eyelids growing heavy. Reaching for her phone, she pressed the home button.

"Hey Siri," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes, Y/N, how can I help you?" came the disembodied voice from the phone's speaker.

"Play some upbeat songs, please" Y/N requested. A beat of silence followed, then the unmistakable opening chords of "Dancing Queen" by ABBA filled the car.

Y/N's lips curved into a smile. Maybe a little cheese was exactly what she needed.

Just as the chorus picked up a startled groan erupted from the passenger seat. Lewis jolted awake, blinking rapidly as he adjusted to the sudden change in light and sound.

"What is this?" he exclaimed; his voice thick with sleep.

Y/N glanced over at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Abba?!" she replied, tapping her finger rhythmically on the steering wheel in time with the music. "You know, since you failed in your designated DJ duties."

Lewis's face scrunched up in mock horror. "Seriously? Dancing queen?!” Y/N laughed. "Hey, classics never go out of style. Besides," she added, a teasing lilt in her voice, "how can you resist singing along?"

Lewis opened his mouth to protest, then a ghost of a smile played on his lips. He sighed dramatically. "Alright, alright," he conceded, "but only because you’re driving”

Y/N winked at him, her heart lighter. The rain continued to fall outside, but inside the car, filled with ABBA and the playful banter between them, the long drive felt a little less daunting.

Ironing shirt

A low hum danced across the room and dragged Y/n from her sleep. Disoriented for a moment, she blinked, the hum resolving itself into the rhythmic hiss of an iron.

She turned her head, a smile tugging at her lips. There, across their motorhome room, stood Lewis, shoulders broad and relaxed as he glided the iron over a crisp white shirt. The scene, domesticity in all its glory.

"Lew?" she rasped; her voice thick with sleep. He glanced up, a smile mirroring hers as he set the iron down. "Morning. Sleep well?"

"Yeah" she mumbled, burrowing deeper into the covers. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure your shirt is crispy" he said with a bright smile on his lips, picking the iron back up.

Y/n stretched languidly, the sheet slipping down her shoulder and revealing his t-shirt she had slept in. " You really didn’t have to”

Lewis chuckled, a warm rumble in his chest. "Non sense". He gestured towards the bed. "Come on now, sleepyhead. We need to leave soon."

With a sigh, Y/n threw back the covers and padded across his motor room, the plush carpet a welcome comfort against her bare feet. She wrapped her arms around Lewis from behind, pressing her cheek against his back.

"You shouldn't have done that" she mumbled into his shirt.

"Shouldn't have ironed your shirt?"

"No, woken up so early." Lewis turned in his arms, his brow furrowed slightly. "You know I don’t sleep too much”

He brushed a bit of hair from her face, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. "Spoiling me rotten, why don’t you?!" she teased, leaning up to kiss him softly.

The kiss deepened quickly, a familiar electric current running between them. He held her close, the iron forgotten on the ironing board. When they finally broke apart, both breathless, a comfortable silence settled around them.

"Alright, enough distractions." Lewis said with a playful grin, picking up the iron again. Y/n swatted him playfully on the arm. "Fine, fine. But at least let me make you some coffee."

"Make it strong, beautiful. Long day ahead." he said, winking.

Naps

The scent of Lewis's signature cologne hit Y/N as she fumbled with her key, the familiar aroma a warm welcome after a long day of meetings. She pushed open the door, a tired smile gracing her lips. Stepping inside, the apartment was the picture of disaster with luggage all around.

Curled up on the plush white sofa, Lewis lay fast asleep, his chest rising and falling gently. But he wasn't alone. Nestled beside him, Roscoe mirrored his position, a ball of contentment.

Y/N's heart melted. Lewis, notorious for his messy sleep schedule, must have been exhausted after the race. And clearly, Roscoe, ever the emotional sponge, had picked up on his human's need for rest.

She tiptoed closer, careful not to disturb their slumber. Lewis's face was relaxed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. One hand lay unconsciously draped over Roscoe's back, who in turn let out a contented sigh in his sleep.

Unable to resist, Y/N pulled out her phone and snapped a picture, capturing the heartwarming tableau of man and dog united. A soft chuckle escaped her lips. Maybe unpacking could wait.

Just then, Lewis stirred, his eyes flickering open. He blinked blearily at her for a moment before a grin spread across his face.

"Hello gorgeous" he mumbled; his voice thick with sleep.

"Hey you" she replied, her voice soft. She gestured towards Roscoe, who was now blinking awake, his tail thumping a lazy greeting against the sofa cushion.

"Looks like someone else is happy you were back" Lewis observed, reaching out to scratch Roscoe behind the ear.

The dog whined happily, nuzzling into Lewis's hand.

"Well," she declared, sinking down onto the sofa beside them, "it seems you two had a relaxing afternoon."

Lewis chuckled, pulling her close. "We did," he admitted, his voice laced with sleepiness. "Until you arrived, photojournalist extraordinaire."

Y/N playfully swatted at his arm. "Hey, someone has to document the domestic bliss."

Lewis leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "Then perhaps," he murmured, "you should document some more."

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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luveline · 11 months

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baby blurb of sirius looking after sick shy!reader pleaseeee. I miss him and my throat is killing me today :((

thank u for ur request! feel better soon<3 fem!reader

"Let me see," Sirius says.

You stare at him.

"Open up. I wanna see if you have ulcers."

"Sirius," you say, your voice shaking with the hoarseness that accompanies a bad throat intertwined with the nervousness of having someone so handsome this close to your face, "we both know I'm not going to let you look in my mouth."

"But you'd let me put my tongue in there?"

You flush with a heat that has nothing to do with your flu. "We all make mistakes."

Sirius smirks at you. It's a very charming expression on him, as is the quirk of a slender brow as he pulls his legs onto the bed and crosses them.

Elbows on his knees, face in his palms, he looks out of place on your white sheets. Black jeans, black t-shirt with a tasteful rip from shoulder to pec, black hair a glossy, messy siren call, and all his dull black piercings. He has a stray wave splayed against his cheek that you want to push behind his ear. His stubble would scratch your thumb.

"If that's how you feel," he murmurs, though he makes no effort to move.

"Do you think I'll be ill forever?" you ask.

"Likely. Don't worry, gorgeous. I'll take care of you forever."

You bite your tongue where it's pushed against the inside of your bottom lip, your eyes softening at his promise. He's joking, sure, but he leans forward to rub your knee and inner thigh, startling you despite the layers of blankets between your bare skin and his.

His head remains in his palm, propped up casually, so your shock swiftly fades. This is just Sirius being Sirius.

"What will I do with you?" he asks sympathetically.

"Not much."

He scratches a hand through his hair. "Now, why are you talking about my girl like that? Being poorly is no excuse."

You're laying back in a mountain of Sirius-sanctioned pillows and cushions, Sirius to your left, a box of things he'd brought for you to your right. The necessities: super soft aloe vera tissues, decongestants, paracetamol and ibuprofen (an ultimate combination). The treats: new fluffy socks, chocolates you can't yet eat, a blanket one thousand times softer than the tissues, and a teddy bear that 'looks like you', apparently.

"You're probably too good to me," you say softly.

"Or I'm the right amount." Sirius straightens, groans, and drops into the cushions beside you. "You're very, very lovely, even when you're as sick as a dog. I think you should know that," he says, his tone ringing with a sincerity that makes your eyes ache worse than they already do. "And you're like, insane levels of gorgeous. I'm not kidding when I say–"

He pauses as you raise your hand. You settle it sluggishly over his pretty mouth, feeling it curl upward. "Sh," you say, too tired to fluster at his praises.

"You're beautiful," he says quietly into your hand.

Sirius' fingertips trace the slopes of your body. Not sexual but inherently intimate, he draws a path from the fat of your upper thigh to your ribs where your blankets end. He pulls them higher.

"You really won't let me look at your throat?" he asks.

"No, but… maybe you can make us a cup of tea?" you suggest shyly.

Sirius leans forward, pressing a short, firm kiss to your chapped lips. "For you? A-ny-thing." Two more quick kisses. "Don't go anywhere."

Sirius is jogging down the stairs by the time you find the energy to call, albeit weakly, "I can't stand up!"

"I was joking! Christ, it's worse than I thought. I havta get you to a doctor."

That time, you catch the sarcasm.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black

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fiapartridge · 3 months

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bye ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ | jack hughes

“maybe someday we'll look back with love.”

☼ pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

☼ summary: feeling down, an ad for lacuna inc. makes its way to your doorstep, prompting you to travel to new york city and erase your memory of the one thing that's hurting you...

☼ fia’s note 💌: eee i love this song! this album is 100% a no-skip album! again, thx for joining us on this 13-part-series <3 pls enjoy “bye” ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

eternal sunshine hq ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

prev part: intro (end of the world) ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

*₊ ° .　. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

He still lingered around your house. Memories of you two slow dancing in the kitchen, sitting on countertops as he stands between your legs, dolloping whip cream on your nose as you laughed like it was the funniest thing on the planet. Honestly, to you, it was the funniest thing on the planet. You two lived in your own world; on your own planet. Everyone saw it that way, and for while, you did too.

You had been meaning to ship his belongings back to him: the red and black Devils sweatshirts piled on your dresser, the teddy bear he won you during your trip to Coney Island, the cologne he left on your desk in case you missed him while he was on a road trip. You couldn’t stay in your apartment anymore. Every time you came back to the beige walls of your small home, you were greeted with reminders of Jack. And it stung every single time.

Collecting his items from around your apartment, you stuffed them into a white cardboard box. You didn’t know what you would do with it. Maybe you could ding dong ditch Jack and just leave the items at his doorstep, or maybe you could burn it somewhere with your best friend, Courtney. Upon deciding your next step, a slip of paper slid underneath your door.

You stood there for a moment, watching the paper sit in its place, its words tucked to the underbelly of the pamphlet. Walking over, you cautiously kneeled down and turned the sheet over.

“Lacuna, inc.

They say time heals all wounds, but the hardest part about dealing with a wound in your past is not the pain, or having to relive it again and again. The hardest part is that it makes you question who you are. Don’t let the memory define you. Erase it. Start anew. Reinvent yourself without the lingering thought of them in your mind, and the prospect of questioning your abilities in the future.

Visit Lacuna, inc. at 210 E Grand St. New York, NY 10019. Call us at +1 (917) 964 - 3205.

Become yourself again.”

It felt stupid, right? Erasing the memory of Jack Hughes and your relationship with him from your entire memory? It felt extreme and dangerous—highly unlike you. But that was the thing that broke the camel’s back in the first place. You couldn’t be what Jack wanted you to be. You couldn’t be spontaneous and take risks and be dangerous. Maybe it was time to start? Because for the past two months, you felt this unbearable ache in your chest and you were tired of feeling it. You were tired of wondering if you were enough, or if you could ever be happy again.

This could fix that. It could fix everything. It could fix you.

Which was why you found yourself in the driver's seat of your car, your collection of items that reminded you of Jack in the passenger seat beside you, and your GPS pulled up with the location of Lacuna, inc. in New York City.

You were going to become yourself again.

*₊ ° .　. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The waiting room was small: uncomfy chairs lining the perimeter of the room, a table in the center with research about lacunar amnesia and the safety of the practice, and ugly overhead lighting that made you feel like you were little again, waiting nervously at the doctor’s office.

A brown clipboard laid on your thighs with a waiver, asking you if you really wanted to do it. There was no going back. There was no regaining the memory of Jack Hughes after the procedure. Once it was gone, it was gone— for good. No more Jack.

You could move on—the same way it looked like he already had.

“You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give “Lacuna, inc.” exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your mind: Yes or No”

With a shaky breath, you checkmarked: Yes.

A couple minutes later, your name was called by one of the nurses and you were carrying your box of Jack’s things into the procedure room. They took the box from your hands, laying it on a table with big machinery and lasers. This whole thing felt foreign to you, but you were ready.

Sitting down in a chair at the center of the room, they strapped patches to your temples as you sat with your hands intertwined in your lap. Your heartbeat raced on the monitor beside you as you closed your eyes, letting the memories take you for the last time.

“Marry me,” Jack blurted as you laid in his arms on the sofa of his apartment. He could feel you tense up. He could feel your breath stutter and you rise from your position.

“What?” you asked, unsure if you had heard him correctly. You started dating Jack when you were 20. You had a year left of college, he was already playing in the NHL, and you had never met anyone quite like him. He was carefree and limitless. He believed that anything was possible; that logistics weren’t important. You were the one that kept him leveled; that yes, ideas and fantasy is important, but the actuality of it is important too.

“Marry me,” he repeated. He said it so simply, as if it held the same weight as asking if you wanted to go out for ice cream later, or if you wanted to stay in or go out for dinner tonight.

You furrowed your brows, your mouth running dry. “We’re 22, Jack.”

He scoffed, mirroring your body language as he rose from his position on the couch. “So?” he shrugged. He took your hands in his as you failed to meet his green eyes. “I want to be with you, Y/N. I know that more than anything. You can move in with me, we could get engaged now and married next year, my grandmother would love you, and—”

“Jack—”

“My brothers already consider you a part of the family—”

“Jack—”

“Why don’t we just make it official, you know? You could be family and—”

“Jack stop,” you scolded, removing your hands from his as he stared at you with a look you’ve never seen before. He’s never been the level-headed type. He’d always been one to fantasize, but this felt extreme. You two were still young, you were still trying to find a stable job and make a name for yourself. You couldn’t get married now. “Listen to yourself. I don’t even have a stable job.”

“You don’t need one!” he exclaimed. “I can work, I can make enough for the both of us, you don’t need to worry about money.”

You stood up from the couch, fuming. How could he just dismiss everything you’ve ever worked for like that? “But I want to work.”

“So work,” he shrugged. “Find a job, I don’t know! All I know is that I want to get married to you. Don’t you want that with me?”

You paced around the living room, trying to wrap your head around everything. “Yes, of course I want that with you, Jack. I just,” you took a deep breath. “I don’t want that right now.”

You watched him recoil. He wanted it now, you could see it in the way he goes silent, and the way he looks as if he wants to be nowhere near you right now. “When do you want it then?”

It wasn’t like you had a set date in mind, but it sounded like all he could hear from you was that you didn’t want to get married. He didn’t want to listen to you. Whenever anything deviated from what he wanted, he shut down. That was just who he was, always has been.

You crossed your arms, holding yourself as if that was the only thing that felt familiar to you in that moment. “I don’t know, like when we’re 24/25?”

“Two more years?” he questioned incredulously. If he knew he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life, why couldn’t he just wait?

“Jack, your fans don’t even know we’re dating!” you shouted. “How are they going to feel when they find out you’re fucking married? Would you even tell them or would you just keep me a secret for the rest of our lives?”

“You know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I’m just not ready, and you know you aren’t either.”

He laughed, but it felt poisonous, like venom was dripping from his tongue. It didn’t feel like his infectious laughs that you wanted to replay in your mind for the rest of your life. It felt like a memory you needed to erase. “What are you saying, Y/N? This isn’t just a random thought, I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. And I guess, I just thought that you were thinking about it too.”

“I have been! Just. Not. Now, Jack. Why can’t you just listen to me? It’s not just you involved in this! This is both of our lives that this is affecting!”

“Well, I didn’t think it would be such a negative in your life.”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was acting as if the two years you had spent together was nothing to you. “I never said that and you know that.”

“Yeah? Well, it sure feels like it.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

It was like you hit a nerve. Like you touched something that you never knew was beneath him. “Then why are you even with me? If I’m so unbelievable.”

“You can’t be serious, Jack,” you shook your head, rounding the corner of the room and towards your shoes that were laid at the entrance of the apartment. You pointed at him as he followed you. “You’re acting like a child. Grow up!”

“Me? You’re the one that’s scared of committing!”

“I’m not scared of committing to you, Jack. I’m scared of not being me anymore. You need to know the difference!”

“Then tell me the fucking difference, because right now, it just feels like we’re breaking up.”

Your head shook, your fingers didn’t feel like your fingers anymore, and in real life, in that office chair, your eyes scrunched and your breathing quickened. You couldn’t relive this. Somehow, it hurt more the second time.

“I don’t even know who I am yet!” you threw your hands in the air. “And you just expect me to be Mrs. Hughes? To be a part of your family? To make me… yours?”

“Come on, Y/N. You’re being dramatic. You’re acting like I’m taking you, or something.”

“I’m not dramatic, you’re just not listening to me!”

“I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to listen to you, but you’re making this so fucking difficult. You make everything fucking difficult. You’re just too much sometimes.”

You didn’t even know you were crying by then, but you were. You were sniffling as you walked around the apartment, grabbing your jacket from the couch, your purse from the dining table, and your shoes from the entryway. You could hear him pestering you with questions: Where are you going? We’re not done with this. Are we breaking up? If you leave, we’re done.

But you’ve spent your life being a people pleaser. You’ve abandoned yourself time and time again to make ends meet. You’ve skipped so many important events to go to his games, and to meet him in California just because he asked you to, and at the most important times of your career, times when you asked him to just stop by for a second so you could have one familiar, comforting face, he had a game, or he had to go out with the guys for “team-bonding”, or something else of higher matter just took priority. All you asked for was effort from both sides.

So to hear that you prioritizing yourself for the first time was dramatic? You couldn’t hear him anymore. All you wanted was to get the hell out of there—even if it meant breaking up.

Courtney pulled up outside as you rushed into her car, your chest heaving and tears spilling out of your eyes. She didn’t ask what happened, she could tell from your texts that it was something bad, something unrecoverable.

But, as if saying it out loud would help you comprehend it for yourself, you said the undeniable.

“I think we just broke up.”

#eternal sunshine ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #ariana grande #eternal sunshine #eternal sunshine of the spotless mind #hockey imagines

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fuzzymakercloudduck · 5 months

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saw a fic about bandmate Abby and singer reader but I'm really obsessed with doctor Abby and I love Taylor and that video of her singing "karma is the guy on the chiefs coming straight home to me" to Travis, so now I'm obsessed w the idea of it

Famous singer!reader X doctor Abby drabble (I guess it's called drabble idk)

Living in New York and meeting her through some mutual friends, but not really talking to each other that much

She would go out with friends but the girl is a doctor, she's working hard honey

Instantly feeling attracted to her bc common she's a muscle mommy 5'10 girlie

You guys start talking more when going out and feeling such a bonding feeling so quickly

I imagine abby being the type to go with baseball hats and leather jackets with some baggy jeans (like the butch lesbian she is) and just being HOT

You are head over heels for her very quickly

Inviting her to your concert in NY and Abby being so happy to go "I wouldn't miss it" "only If you dedicate me a song " type of anwers

Inviting her to go to dinner after the concert because you want to have her kids at this point

Stalking her in all social medias (dont think shed be much active on social media but you do it anyway)

You having a cocky, kind of unserious personality and just feeling so attracted to her serious demander even though she's a sweet pie

Calling her things like love, darling, honey and watching her blush

Going home every time you see her and writing her songs

This was inspired by TS so I'm thinking Gorgeous, Gold Rush, Mastermind, I know places, style. I'm talking about talking/ hooking up stage and you just fell hard

Also being really worried about people founding out and ruining what your guys have going on, but she assures you she's staying and is so proud of your career

Once she ask you to be her gf, IMMEDIATELY writing songs like lover, dress

Once y'all in a comfortable place in your relationship talking about her every chance you got in every fucking interview (you're obsessed)

Saying things like "my gfs a doctor so I'm always safe", bringing her up in every topic. "What's your type?" "My beautiful girlfriend " . "If you were stuck in a island, who's someone you would bring?" "My girlfriend Abby, she's stuck with me"

She's bragging about you to everyone too, don't get me wrong. "How you feel being reader muse?" Some random person would ask "awesome honestly" "what's your favourite song of your gf?" And then she saying one that was definitely written about her

She's at every concert she can go to, even in a tight agenda

You trying to be home as much as possible

When you're not working, being a little of a housewife, cleaning, making her dinner, buying her flowers

She walking in front of you when there's a lot of paparazzis

You pointing at her when singing romantic songs and she going red as a tomato

Her friends mocking her for it

She giving you flowers after the concert

Letting you be bejeweled (lol sorry)

I'm literally just writing about wtv shit I wanted to read but didn't found it nowhere

#abby anderson #the last of us #tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff

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ironstrange1991 · 1 year

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As Strange As It Seems (Part 4)

Pairing: Doctor!Strange, Defender!Strange, Supreme!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Supreme's return to the NY Sanctum has everyone's nerves on edge, and Y/n must find a way to deal with the jealousy of the three Stephens while trying to deal with her own feelings as well.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Polyamorous relationship dinamics. SMUT: Oral sex (female receiving), fingering, umprotected p in v sex, creampie.

A/N: This chapter picks up exactly where chapter two ended. I need to admit that writing this has become an addiction, I just love everything about it. The fifth and final part is almost ready and will be posted soon. Hope you like it. Good reading!

Previous Chapters: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

You were distracted finishing the reports you needed to send to your boss. Typing quickly on your laptop which was perched dangerously on your lap. You were hungry and in a bad mood because your men weren't home to take care of you.

Stephen would take a while to come back, he had already warned, but Defender should already be home by that time. You let out a loud huff looking back at the time on your cell phone screen.

You kept working though your eyes were heavy, the tiredness of the day showing, but you persisted until the last report was done. Besides, there was nothing else to do anyway. You had turned off your laptop and placed it on the coffee table, cell in hand ready to call Defender, when you heard the familiar sound of a portal opening.

You would expect Stephen or Defender, but it was Supreme who walked through and then closed the portal behind him. He was dressed in his robes and blue cloak, his hair a little disheveled , some strands falling over his forehead. He looked gorgeous as always.

"Hey" He said looking at you and then looking around "Are you alone?"

You didn't understand the reason for the question, but you shook your head positively.

He sighed and with a flick of his fingers his clothes changed to jeans and a T-shirt. "I'd like to talk to you."

You look around feeling a little apprehensive. You wanted to talk to him, of course. You missed him, there was no reason to deny it, but you didn't want to do it in secret.

"I don't know if that's a good idea. Stephen and Defender aren't home and they wouldn't like if..."

"I was with Defender five minutes ago." He interrupted you "He told me that Stephen would be in a meeting with the Avengers and that you would be alone."

You looked at him in surprise "Why would he say that?" Your voice sounded a bit shaky.

Supreme approached and sat in one of the armchairs in front of you "Because he said that's what you want. The two of them seem to have come to the same conclusion."

Although it made you feel extremely guilty, you couldn't hide from yourself that you were completely stunned by Supreme's presence. He was so gorgeous. All the Stephens were.

"Y/n..." He called your name taking you out of the state of contemplation you were in. "Are they right? Is this what you want?"

You did not answer. The words seemed to have disappeared from your mind.

He run his hands over his face and sighed heavily. "Look, I need to know if you want me because I know I want you. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since I got here." He shook his head seeming to choose the words he said "It's hard for me to say this because I... I've never had this before, nothing like this and I'm not talking about the other versions of myself, I'm talking about you. I've never felt this way about anyone else and I don't even understand what this is. I've never even touched you... and it scares me."

You opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out so you just shook your head sheepishly and hoped he understood that you were scared because you felt that way too.

He seemed to understand because he smiled. That smile that took your breath away but was so different without the beard or goatee. "I need to hear you say the words, honey. I think I deserve it after what I've said. You can do that for me, can't you?"

You swallowed thickly feeling your cheeks turning red. The pet name that used to annoy you now messes with you in other ways. You inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly with an almost inaudible "Yes." You nodded "I want you. I... feel the same."

He shifted in the chair, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs, both hands clasped together as he looked at you with those ocean blue eyes "So tell me about the rules."

You talked for what seemed like a long time. You told him how it was when Defender arrived and how things worked out and explained why you created the rules and why they were important and then tried to explain them one by one to him. You could clearly see it in his expressions when he didn't agree with a rule, but he seemed to make a herculean effort to accept them.

"I know it sounds silly, but it works. Stephen and Defender are used to them and everything works perfectly. No fighting, no jealousy." You said in conclusion.

He cocked his head to the side staring at you curiously "You sleep together? The three of you, I mean."

You looked away immediately, blushing violently at the realization of what he was asking. He clearly noticed your reaction because a cocky smirk played in hi lips. "I guess that's a no."

No matter how much you were in love with him, you wanted to punch him in the face. In fact, you've noticed that since you met him, you've wanted to punch him in the face many times. You had just explained to him all the rules of your relationship, which he wanted to be a part of, exhaustively and that was the first thing he thought to say?

"No, we don't." You replied sighing and feeling your cheeks red and hot again.

"But would you?"

You didn't respond, choosing to quickly change the subject "I need you to tell me if you agree to these rules."

He shrugged "With some, yes. With others, not so much. With several of them I don't agree at all." He shook his head "But I accept that you need them and I promise I will try to obey them."

That clearly wasn't what you wanted to hear, but you had to give him credit for his sincerity. You continued talking and you were surprised how little by little you felt more comfortable with him. You barely noticed when he got up from the armchair and sat next to you. The proximity though seemed to reveal even more of what you already knew. He was charming, in an arrogant and irritating way.

You kept talking for what seemed like a long time and the whole time you couldn't take your eyes off him, you kept trying to find traces of the other Stephens in him, but he was so different from them. Not physically, obviously, but in the way he acted and talked, the way he looked at you and his lips... You found yourself staring at his lips, how they stood out once he had no beard to distract you from them. His face seemed so smooth.

You always loved Stephen's lips. They were full and pink and god, those lips knew how to kiss. You loved playing with the differences between they kisses in your head. Stephen kissed you in two ways: unpretentious and casual like when he was leaving in the morning to go to work or when he got home in the late afternoon and passionately, rougher, when he was horny and in the mood for a long lovemaking session.

Defender used to kiss you on the forehead before leaving or coming home from work, which you found about as intimate as a kiss on the lips, but when he kissed your mouth, his kiss was always passionate but soft, his lips always touching your lips gently and he always let you control the kiss and you loved that.

You found yourself looking at Supreme's lips and wondering what his kisses would feel like. Would he be soft? You very much doubted that anything with Supreme could be soft.

"Anyway, I don't want to think about everything that happened anymore. Although that's easier said than done. Who can control their own thoughts, right?"

He touched your arm which was resting lazily on the back of the sofa "Are you listening, honey? You seemed to go somewhere else."

You smiled and run to apologize "I'm sorry I got distracted looking at you."

He gave you a smug smile "I'll take that as a compliment."

You nodded and without thinking too much about what you were doing you took one of his hands in yours and started to caress it. You could never look at his hands that closely. Although you were no longer afraid of them, you were still intimidated by the blackened fingertips.

"I wonder if you ever going to tell me what caused this." You said and felt his entire body stiffening. You let go of his hand immediately and ran to apologize. "I'm sorry."

He pursed his lips, but reached for your hand and laced his fingers through yours.

"It's not easy to talk about it. For now, all you need to know is that I made mistakes and because of them I'm scarred forever."

You nodded, stroking one of his black nails with your thumb.

"Does it bother you?" He asked.

You thought for a moment before answering. "I was afraid of you when you arrived. Afraid of your hands and whatever could have caused this."

"Aren't you scared anymore?"

You shook your head "Whatever you did, it's in the past now. I mean, I'll be here if you ever want to tell me, but I don't want you to feel obligated to. What matters is who you are now. Who I fell in love with."

He smirked and gently brought your hand to his lips and kissed it. "That was the first time you've said that out loud. And I loved hearing it."

You barely realized how close you were. Your thighs touching, your hand in his hand. He cupped your face gently and that trembling touch was so familiar and yet so different. He caressed your cheek with his thumb and moved close enough for you to feel his breath on your mouth. That was the moment. You would finally know what his kiss was like, but at the last second you turned away.

It wasn't that you didn't want to kiss him, but everything was so confusing to you.

"I'm hungry. Are you hungry? I'm going to prepare something for us to eat..."

...

Stephen smiled to himself watching you walk away from him and practically run to hide in the kitchen. It wouldn't be that easy to get away from him, but he understood your hesitation and he wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want to. He got up and went to the kitchen after you.

He stopped in the doorway and watched you as you went from corner to corner, preparing whatever it was for you to eat. You were wearing a jean shorts, short enough to expose part of your ass cheeks and an old Pink Floyd T-shirt that was too big to be yours. Your were bare feet and your hair was tied up in a messy bun.

You were so beautiful, so normal, and that night you seemed to be bewitching him with all that domesticity. At that moment Stephen realized how much he envied the other Stephens for having you. He never had anything like this. And he felt a sting of jealousy at the thought that they had touched you so many times already, kissed you, made love to you, and he hadn't.

"I'll make mac & cheese.” You informed with a big smile in your face. “You like it, right? Stephen likes it. Defender not so much. I've been discovering little by little that although you are the same person, you have very different tastes."

"I like it." He said smirking. He didn't like being compared to others, but given the circumstances he could understand. "It's not my favorite, but I like it."

You nodded, tossing the pasta into the boiling water and turning your attention back to the cheese sauce. "I don't know anything about you, Stephen. I mean, I think we should start there, don't you think?"

He walked over and leaned on the counter next to you. "You live with two Stephens, you know a lot about me."

You shrugged "It's not the same. Like I said, you guys have different tastes in music, food, perfume... everything."

He thought for a minute "I don't have a favorite dish, but I love seafood. Lobster is my favorite, but I love oysters, crab, salmon..."

You smiled broadly "I know how to prepare a wonderful grilled salmon with almonds, you would like it I think."

"Are you asking me to dinner?"

"Well, technically we're having dinner together tonight, but…why not?"

He crossed his arms "I accept the invitation, but I prefer our first date to be far away from this house."

"Anything you want, Supreme Strange."

He liked the sound of that, but he didn't say anything, he just smirked to himself.

"What's your favorite band?" You asked and he pointed to your t shirt.

"Oh, of course.” You rolled your eyes. “Exactly the same. It would be easier for me to ask what your second favorite band is. For Stephen it's U2. For Defender it's Nick Cave and the bad seeds."

He smiled, thinking for a moment. "Radiohead, I think."

"Hum, interesting."

Stephen watched as you brought your index finger to your mouth to taste the sauce and sucked it with a pop. His mind automatically made him think of how your lips would feel around his cock.

"What's your favorite band?" Stephen returned the question to try to distract himself from the dirty thoughts that had invaded his mind.

You frowned. "I'm too indecisive to have just one favorite band. I like The Cure, Joy Division, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Bauhaus. You know?"

Stephen frowned "Not really."

"Didn't you guys have this gothic stuff in your universe?"

He shook his head "What exactly does gothic mean?"

You let or a small giggle "Oh god, I'm going to have to lecture you on this. It's a lot. Anyway, other than that I like Rammstein, Nine Inch Nails, Marilyn Manson..."

"Now you're speaking my language." He replied. It was far from the kind of music he liked, but at least he knew about those bands. If there was one thing Stephen didn't like, it was not knowing something. It drove him mad.

"I never would have guessed that you like that kind of music. You seem so... delicate."

You couldn't help laughing at his words, and that was definitely Stephen's favorite sound now.

"I'm not delicate, Stephen, although Defender tends to treat me like I'm made of glass. I like heavy stuff and can take more than people imagine."

Stephen smirked. He couldn't tell if you said that to tease him already knowing what his mind would make him think, or if you were innocent about it. You seemed like the innocent type, even though you were saying otherwise.

"I'm eager to learn more about you. You intrigue me."

"Oh, there's nothing interesting about me, Stephen." You said distractedly while draining the water from the pasta and throwing it into the pan along with the cheese sauce. You stirred it gently, finishing with parmesan cheese. It smelled good and Stephen was hungry, although he didn't say it.

"On that we both disagree, honey." He said stepping forward and grabbing two plates from the cupboard and placing them on the table. He rummaged through the drawers until he found the silverware and got two forks.

You opened the fridge and took a half-empty bottle of red wine and two glasses from the cupboard.

"At first I thought you called me that to annoy me. Anyway, if that was your intention, it stopped working a long time ago."

He accepted the glass you handed him. "I wasn't trying to annoy you."

You grinned "I like it. I never thought I was the kind of girl to like pet names, but I do."

"Good to know."

You two finally sat down to eat and Stephen realized how this was the first time you had eaten together. Of course there were other times when the two of you bumped into each other in the kitchen and ended up having to put up with each other's presence, but this was the first time you two were actually talking. You weren't being a brat and he wasn't teasing you either.

There was actually some romance in the air, as silly as that definition might sound, but he couldn't put it any other way. Both you and he seemed eager to get to know each other better and although you were intimidated by him, the way you were devouring him with your eyes made it clear as day that you wanted him as much as he wanted you and Stephen definitely liked the sensation of being devoured by your eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" You asked and he nodded immediately drinking from his glass. "You just did, but you can ask whatever you want."

You seemed to choose your words "Did they really send you away to Kamar Taj or did you decided to go on your own?"

He thought for a second before answering. He remembered perfectly the conversation he had with Stephen and Defender before leaving on the mission. "I thought that was what you wanted. And I wasn't comfortable living here when clearly my presence bothered your boyfriends."

You sighed. An awkward silence seemed to grow between you and he was about to break it when you simply said: "I missed you. I never thought I would say this, but it's true. Every day when I got home from work I looked at that damn couch and I felt a huge weight on my chest because you weren't there."

Stephen wasn't expecting a confession like that. He could have made several provocations about the couch thing, but he couldn't. He knew you missed him, otherwise Defender wouldn't have asked him to come back, but he didn't think you'd admit it so easily.

"Did you... miss me?" You asked staring at him intently.

Of course he missed you. Every day since the last time he'd seen you in that same kitchen he'd missed you. At night he lost sleep and kept thinking about you, but of course he wasn't going to admit all that. He nodded. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

You smiled shyly.

When you finished eating, Stephen lit a cigarette, which made you stare at him in surprise.

"Awful habit, I know." He said staring to the cigarette in his hand.

You've finished sorting the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on.

"Do you mind?" He asked a little unsure. Stephen did not smoke for years, but all the stress caused by the fact that he was living in another universe with two different versions of himself made him fall back into the old habit.

You shook your head "I don't mind. It's just...it's different. My Stephens don't smoke."

He nodded, swallowing and then exhaling the smoke slowly through his mouth and nostrils. "Your Stephens. What does that make me?"

You smiled looking away "That's what we're trying to figure out, I guess."

He helped you organize everything and then you went back to the living room. Stephen hadn't noticed how late it was, the hours seemed to fly by as you talked. He waited for the other Stephens to return home, but it was past 10pm and there was no sign of any of them.

"I should go to bed now, I wake up early tomorrow." You said getting up and seeming unsure about your next steps. "You… will stay?"

He got up too and walked over to you, holding your hand. "Do you want me to stay?"

You nodded.

"Then I will stay."

You bit the inside of your cheek "Goodnight then, Stephen."

Stephen cupped your face "I think I deserve a goodnight kiss at least."

He didn't wait for you to answer, he took a step closer to you, his thumb touching your bottom lip. You parted your lips instinctively and he noticed how your whole body began to tremble, gently but it was noticeable. He bent his head down to kiss you, just a touch of lips, then you let out a little moan on his lips and it made him lose all self control. He cupped your face in both hands and kissed you deeply. His tongue worked its way past your lips and into your mouth, touching, exploring. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hand gripped his hair, tangling your fingers in it. Stephen liked the feeling.

He hadn’t kissed anyone in a long time. Much longer than he was used to. He was always used to having women throwing themselves at his feet, begging for his attention. But that was in another life and definitely not you, you were different. Somehow he knew you would never beg.

You let out another moan and broke the kiss to breathe, but made a point of staying close, your forehead resting on his. God, he loved the sound of your little moans. Although he had heard so little, it was enough to make him hard. If he could he would have you right there, in that room, with no fear that someone might see you. To be quite honest, Stephen liked the idea. He would love for the others to be able to see you in his arms and know that from that day forward you were his.

You kissed him again, this time softly and then you touched his shoulder and stepped away. "Good night, Stephen."

He nodded even though inside he wanted to scream. "Goodnight, Y/n. See you tomorrow."

You smiled shyly "Breakfast at 7am?"

He chuckled "Nothing in the world would make me wake up so early, not even someone as beautiful as you, honey."

...

You went up to the room you shared with Stephen and went straight to bed. You were too intoxicated with everything that had happened that night to think straight. Your body was shaking, your hands were sweaty. You lay down and covered yourself with the duvet and didn't realize how tired you were until then.

You woke up to warm hands caressing your arm and pulling you close. You didn't even bother to open your eyes, you just snuggled in Stephen's arms, surrendering to his kisses and went back to sleep waking up again the next morning with the despicable sound of your alarm. You turned around, your hand patting the mattress looking for Stephen until it touched his chest. You turned and crawled back into his arms. He was awake.

"May I know why you're up so early?" You asked kissing him softly.

"I woke up to your alarm." He lied through his teeth. As if you didn't know the difference between when he just woke up and when he didn't even sleep a wink during the night.

"Couldn't sleep again? You could have called me. I'd make tea..."

He stroked your arm reassuringly. "I arrived it was very late, I didn't want to wake you up."

You hummed and stretched yawning.

"You and Supreme hit it off apparently." He said it casually, but you could hear the bitterness in his voice.

"We talked. A lot." That was all you said.

"And kissed." He accused.

How could he have known that?

He seemed to understand your confusion. "Cigarette. I tasted it on your lips last night."

You didn't say anything. You couldn’t even look at him. You knew you were hurting him and you felt terrible about it.

"I'm not mad." He said grabbing your chin and making you look at him. "I was the one who asked Defender to talk to him. Defender told me he came home to talk to you. I was already expecting that."

"Stephen..."

He cupped your face "Just promise me that you're sure this is really what you want. That's all I need to know."

You nodded.

"Good. It's all I care about."

He got up and went into the bathroom and you lay there thinking about how it was all too much for you to take in. Of course you were happy that you finally had Supreme, but there was still something wrong.

You got up and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Stephen was shaving, his hands were shaking and he was irritated. You would offer to help, but you knew better. Stephen was too proud to admit he needed help with anything.

You put your head down in the sink to finish rinsing your mouth and finished washing your face.

"I was thinking about going out to dinner tonight." Stephen suggested. "Somewhere nice, far away from here."

You thought for a second as you tied your hair in a ponytail and started your skin care. "We haven't been to that new Arabic restaurant yet. What do you think?"

He nodded. You watched him rinse his face and dry it on the towel and then apply some aftershave. He then devoted himself to his hair. Stephen was vain and you loved watching him take care of himself. It was mesmerizing.

"I thought maybe we could go to the movies." You also suggested "But, dinner is perfect."

"Defender will love to go to the movies with you. Do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

You finished your skin care with sunscreen and let your hair down to comb it.

"We haven't thought of anything yet, but I think you're right."

Stephen finished his morning ritual and approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"And we have Stark's party on Sunday. Remember?" He asked pushing your hair to the side and placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

You grimaced "I had completely forgotten. Who throws a party on Sundays?"

Stephen chuckled "Someone to whom every day is the same. Stark doesn't see Mondays the way you do, sweetheart."

You sighed turning to face him. "You will go, right?"

"Defender will go with you."

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders "But I want you to go too. Please."

Stephen kissed you softly "I'll think about it."

…

You went to work that morning and were glad you had enough work to keep your mind busy. Upon returning home you felt your heart skip a beat when you found Supreme sprawled on the couch. For so many days you faced that empty couch and your heart felt equally empty, as if a part of you was missing.

He looked at you standing in the foyer staring at him and just smirked. Somehow you knew he knew what you were thinking.

You left your purse and keys on the counter and walked over to him. Without thinking too much about what you were doing, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him in an awkward sort of hug. You didn't say anything, you just stood there holding him for a long minute.

Stephen seemed surprised, but didn't say anything either. He just wrapped his hand around one of your arms and sighed heavily.

"Y/n..." You heard Stephen's voice calling you and you let go of Supreme immediately. You heard footsteps up stairs. "I thought I heard you arrive." He said appearing at the top of the stairs and then casting a disinterested look at Supreme. "Could you come up here for a minute? I need to talk to you."

You agreed and smiled shyly at Supreme and walked towards Stephen.

He wrapped you in his arms as soon as you reached him at the top of the stairs. He kissed you a little rougher than necessary, it was clear he was jealous.

"I missed you." He said pulling you into his room. He slammed the door behind you and practically attacked you with kisses and small bites down your neck.

Although you were surprised, you couldn't say that you didn't like the way he was treating you. "I thought you wanted to talk..."

He made you lift your arms and took off your shirt and bra quickly. "We are talking."

He pushed you until you felt the bed against the back of your legs. You sat and he pushed you down and quickly got rid of what was left of your clothes and got between your legs and started eating you with frightening ferocity, eliciting a moan so loud from your lips that you knew it was impossible that Supreme hadn't heard. The grin on Stephen's lips as he began to fuck you with his fingers showed that that was precisely his intention.

He kept his fingers in and out of you in a rapid pace making you squirm in his hands.

"Stephen... oh fuck... what you doing?"

He brought the fingers of his other hand to his mouth and then began circling your clit with them.

"Pleasuring my girl. Tell me, does it feels good?"

You nodded "Oh god, yes, but I need more than this..." You responded "Give me your mouth."

He complied by sucking on your clit and catching it between his teeth and then soothing with his tongue as his fingers continued to fuck you. "Right there, Steph, don't stop."

But he stopped. Only his fingers kept working on you. "Tell me your mine" He demanded.

You moaned outrageously when he added a third finger.

"I'm yours." You whispered.

Stephen bit the inside of your thigh. "Louder. I could barely hear you, sweetheart."

"I'm yours, Stephen. Yours." You said much louder now. "I need more. Please, Steph, I need your mou..."

He cut you off taking his fingers off you completely. He snapped his fingers freeing himself of his robes and slipped between your legs "I can do better than that, Y/n. Just tell me how much you want it."

Your hips jolted upwards begging for some relief "More than anything. I want you more than anything, Stephen, please, fuck me."

He smiled widely and spat in the palm of his hand, taking the saliva to the tip of his cock and entering you with a strong and violent thrust. You saw stars and you couldn’t contain your groan.

"That’s my girl. Now, we don't have much time to play around, sweetheart. So I'll be quick, okay?"

You nodded vehemently "Yes."

He grabbed your thigh and pulled you closer and then he started to move, fucking you hard and oh so deep.

"You like that, uh? Tell me how much you like my cock fucking you hard."

"I love it."

"Yeah? Than scream for me. I want to hear you screaming my name while I fuck you."

You were too sex drunk to understand what Stephen was really wanting, all you had in your head was him and the pleasure he was giving you, everything else just ceased to exist as he fucked you at that absurd pace.

"Come on, sweetheart, don't tell me I already fucked you dumb, hm? Say my name. Ask for me to make you cum."

You grabbed his hair and pulled hard, your other hand scratching at his back. "Please Stephen, make me cum. I'm so close."

He grabbed your chin making you look at him "You're going to have to be a lot louder than this if you want to cum."

"Stephen...please."

He pulled his cock fully out of you and watched you squirm impatiently beneath him and whimper.

"Do you want it. Beg for it."

"Please, Stephen, please."

He entered you again with one merciless thrust.

"You feel so fucking good, sweetheart. I'm almost there." He cupped your face. "Say my name."

You gave him your best cock drunk smile "Stephen."

He pounded against you, sending the headboard slamming against the wall."

"Louder."

"Stephen." You almost screamed.

He leaned against the bedpost to put more force into his thrusts "Scream for me, sweetheart."

"STEPHEN."

He came inside you with an absurdly loud groan dragging you to your own climax. "My god, Stephen... my Stephen..." Your moans became almost a plea even though you didn't know what you were pleading for.

Even though he was finished, he continued to slowly move in and out of you, carrying you through your orgasm.

He caressed your face and kissed you softly. A wide smile on his lips. "Is that what I am?”

You felt your face blushing, but nodded. "Yes."

He pecked your lips and pulled out, stood up and extended his hand to you. "Come on, let's take a shower. We have a reservation for 7pm."

...

Defender Strange sighed heavily, giving up trying to sleep. The time was advanced to dawn and he hadn't even managed to sleep a wink. There was so much on his mind!

He sat up in bed running his hands over his face and glanced quickly at the empty mattress. As much as he and Stephen had a good deal and they never fought over you, he still resented not being able to have you in his bed every night. Stephen knew it was ridiculous, if anyone should resent it, it wasn't him but the Stephen Strange of that universe who had his life turned upside down when he, the intruder, conquered his girl and forced him to do the unimaginable: to share her.

For someone as proud as Stephen, someone who could claim to know himself better than anyone else, he knew that this was probably the hardest thing Doctor Strange had ever done and he often wondered if he would be able to do the same. Obviously, he thought that was just a mental exercise, he never imagined that he would actually have to go through that. And it was proving to be an incredibly painful challenge.

He exhaled heavily and stood up. There was no reason to stay in bed if he knew sleep wasn't going to be an option tonight. He rummaged in the bedside table drawer for a hair tie, and quickly tied his hair into a low ponytail. He was just grateful to know he wouldn't have to work the next day.

Wong had released him from Saturday's classes because, according to him, Stephen needed to rest. Little did Wong know that his problem had nothing to do with work and there would be no rest in the world that would ease the heaviness he felt in his chest.

He threw on a T-shirt and sweatpants and went downstairs determined to fix himself something to drink and maybe find some comfort in a book, but when he got to the kitchen he found Stephen sitting in the dark with a bottle of whiskey and a glass in hand.

"Looks like I wasn't the only one who lost sleep this time," he said, his voice dripping with bitterness.

"You're assuming I got to sleep, which I didn't." Defender answered.

Defender snapped his fingers lighting the candles in the candlesticks on the counter and bathing the kitchen in ghostly yellow light. Stephen indicated for him to sit down and he did. The doctor conjured up another glass and filled it with whiskey and pushed it towards Defender.

"What troubles you, Defender?" He asked.

Defender picked up the glass and took a long drink "The same thing that upsets you I presume."

Stephen nodded "We could kill him. We tell her it was an accident and everything is resolved."

Defender chuckled dryly "Unfortunately I don't think it's that simple. Besides I've never been good at lying to her."

Stephen nodded. "Neither did I. Even at the beginning, she always knew when I said something that wasn't entirely true. 'You don't know how to lie, Stephen.' That's what she says."

Defender nodded. "I don't think you ever told me how you met her."

Stephen thought for a second "It was the silliest thing in the world. We met at that sandwich bar next to the office where she works."

"The tuna melt one?" Defender asked and Stephen nodded. "Wong also makes you go get it for him?"

Defender chuckled "Sometimes."

Stephen sighed "She was there. We talked and she was bold. I remember exactly the words: 'It's a long shot, but could you give me your number?'"

Defender stared at him in disbelief "She asked for your number, at a sandwich bar?"

Stephen grinned as if the memory was alive right before his eyes "It was 7am. She said it was in case she needed a superhero." He gave a small laugh staring at his own glass. "She called me the same night and asked me out."

Defender smiled "She's amazing. No wonder we're so in love with her."

Stephen poured the rest of the whiskey from the glass and refilled it. "What surprises me is that she's in love with us." He sighed heavily then pointed a finger to Defender "When she fell in love with you it was painful but understandable. You were annoyingly kind..."

Defender took a long drink of his whiskey but didn't say anything.

"...But with him? You're practically perfect, he's just annoying."

Defender shook his head "I'm not perfect, Stephen. I've made the same mistakes as you and even more..." He sighed heavily "I allowed my entire universe to be destroyed, yours is still here."

Stephen seemed to disagree "It wasn't your fault. Unlike what happened to his universe..."

"We don't know that, Stephen. We can't use our assumptions against him, no matter how much we hate him."

Stephen sighed "Do you... hate him?"

Defender did not respond. He had asked that question to himself many times and every time he thought he was reaching a conclusion he was faced with the realization that hating Supreme was the same as hating himself. "I don't particularly like him, but I can't say I hate him. Besides, as I said, his love for her is genuine."

"So that's it, we going to go through with it."

Defender drank the rest of the whiskey from the glass "We’re going to make it work. It's crazy, I know, but it will work because after all he's one of us."

Stephen ran his hands over his face "Sometimes I find it hard to believe there's anything similar between the two of you beyond the physical aspect."

Defender chuckled "I'm sorry to say, but you and he have more in common than you'd like to admit."

...

You woke up on Saturday morning and thanked the heavens that you didn't have to go to work. You were tired, overwhelmed with everything going on in your life and you just wanted a quiet day. Stephen wasn't in bed, he had said he would need to leave in the morning, but he didn't specify what he was going to do, you didn't insist on an answer either.

The night had been incredible. The restaurant was great, but the sex… god, the sex was intense. Of course you knew he was jealous, his words didn't hide it, but it wasn't like you could complain. Stephen had fucked you senseless when you got home from the restaurant and you loved every second of it.

You went downstairs for coffee and found Defender in the kitchen. He was busy making pancakes. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"I was going to go upstairs to wake you up." He said turning off the fire and turning to look at you. He ran his finger lightly over a spot on your neck and then kissed you softly.

"Are you hungry?"

You nodded "Starving."

"Good. I made pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon and your favorite: fresh orange juice."

You smirked "You spoil me too much, you know that, Defender Strange?"

He smirked "Never enough." He cupped your face and kissed you intensely, his tongue entering your mouth and dominating yours. You moaned softly into his lips and he hummed in response. When he broke the kiss there was a shy smile on your lips. "Have a seat, I'll set the table for us."

You had breakfast together enjoying the silence of the Sanctum and each other's company. You enjoyed mornings with Defender because they were rare. Usually he left for Kamar Taj before you wake up in the morning. The only mornings you spent together were Sunday mornings and yet he often had to leave early to solve some problem or take care of the preparations for some mission.

That morning though he wasn't in a hurry, he was still dressed in his pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt, his hair pulled back lazily in a low ponytail.

"Stephen told me you guys went to the new Arabic restaurant last night. Did you have a good time?" he asked casually. At first they didn't talk about your nights with the other Stephen, but now it was so natural that it was part of any conversation.

"It was fun. There was live music."

"Arabic music?" He asked curiously.

"Yeah, it was…interesting."

He watched you with keen eyes as you sipped your orange juice and then touched your neck again in that same spot. "Everything else seems to have been interesting too." He said disguising what you thought was jealousy with a smirk. Defender never showed any jealousy, though you'd imagine he was good at keeping everything to himself.

"What was that?" You asked innocently.

"He left a huge hickey on your neck, baby. Although I know the message wasn't intended for me, it's hard not to feel jealous seeing you marked that way."

You opened your mouth to respond, then closed it again, your hand automatically going to your neck. You hadn't seen that. "You can remove it, can't you? You always do that."

He shook his head taking the last sip of coffee from his cup. "I don't think that would be smart of me."

You sighed heavily "Stephen... what are we doing?"

He stared at you not understanding what you were asking.

"I mean, if you are so uncomfortable with the idea of sharing me with Supreme, then we shouldn't go through with it. I might be in love with him, but that doesn't give me the right to risk everything else."

He caressed your face gently. "I love you, Y/n. I love you with all of my heart, with every fiber of my being, but I know I'm not the only one who loves you this way."

"But I don't want to make you suffer, or Stephen... he's suffering."

"It's not your fault that there are more Stephens in this universe than there should be. And as you've told me more than once: you love us, you love each and every one of us and that's nothing to be ashamed of. It's very beautiful indeed. You're not doing anything wrong."

You sighed looking for his hand and intertwining your fingers in his. "I do. I love you, Stephen. Each one of you. So much. But it’s so confusing."

He smiled "Stephen is going to be fine. We're going to be fine."

You nodded trying to convince yourself that he was right, then you both heard footsteps approaching and Supreme entered the kitchen. He was fully dressed in his blue robes and cloak.

Supreme's cloak was so beautiful, elegant and majestic, but it was also a volatile little thing that wouldn't accept being touched by anyone but him and once got into a fight with Stephen's cloaky. It would be funny if the two Stephens hadn't gotten so mad at the time.

"Good morning" He said pouring himself a cup of coffee. He didn't sit down, he just leaned against the counter and smiled at you, just a smile, but it made you blush. He took a long drink of coffee and addressed Defender. "I have a meeting now with Tony Stark, I might be late getting back."

Defender looked at him curiously "A meeting with Stark? May I ask what this is about?"

He put the cup on the counter. "He wants to talk about a job."

You frowned "A job? A mission you mean."

He nodded "I'll be back as soon as possible and explain everything. Until then..." He glanced at your neck and you could see his irises darkening with rage and jealousy. He just left without finishing what he was saying and you felt a huge weight in your chest knowing that it had hurt him. You lowered your head and swallowed thickly, but didn't say anything. You knew Defender's eyes were on you.

"This will pass." He said getting up and taking the plates and cups off the table and placing them in the sink. You sighed heavily. "It never felt wrong when it was you. I had doubts, a lot, but it didn't feel wrong. With Supreme it feels... I don't know."

He took the cup that Supreme had left on the counter and dropped it in the sink "He could at least try to keep things in place..."

He didn't finish what he was going to say. You heard his exhale and waited in total silence. He turned around leaning on the counter. He ran a hand over his face and said simply. "I'm not happy with the idea of sharing you with Supreme. Stephen isn't happy with the idea either. I've barely been able to sleep, all I can think about is that he's going to touch you, that he's going to make love to you and it makes me insanely jealous and you know, Y/n, you know I'm not a jealous man, but I'm insanely jealous right now and Stephen is, and it's even harder for him because this is the second time this happens."

You quickly wiped the tears streaming down your face "Then it's decided. Let's stop this now." Your voice came out a lot less confident than you wanted.

"No, we won't."

He approached you and held out his hand for you to get up. He wrapped his arm around your waist and cupped your face. "He loves you. He really does. And you love him. Keeping you both separated won't change that, it'll just cause more pain."

He wiped your tears away with his thumb "Me and Stephen are going to be fine. We love you more than anything and we're going to make this work."

You nodded "But you just said..."

"I know what I said. It's been difficult for all of us, but I prefer to use my mind over my heart in this matter."

He lifted your chin to kiss your lips sweetly "Now, I don't want to talk about Supreme anymore. Today is my day with you and I want to enjoy every second of it."

You smiled nodding "I want to go to the movies"

He smirked "Then we'll go to the movies."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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sleepdeprivedsimp234 · 6 months

Text

Really long headcanon post for the stuff that I’ve posted on Wattpad :3

Massachusetts:

-Mans is my height, 5'6, and he hates being bullied about being the shortest of his brothers lmao

-Is twins with New Jersey, though Jersey makes fun of him cuz he's five minutes younger

-he has reddish brown shoulder-length wavy hair and hazel eyes

-mf is built like the Dwayne Johnson though he's just missing the height

-TRANSMASC MASS SUPREMACY 🛐🛐

-this man acts all tough until the cramps come along. Then he's dead.

-doctor of the statehouse, along with Texas. He deals with sickness/illness whilst Texas deals with injuries. Though he can do both cuz we love that.

-tried learning how to make flower crowns cuz NY would always make them for everyone when they were younger. He tried his best, and he's actually kinda okay at it, so him and any will just hang out and make flower crowns.

-^he has put a spell on every single flower crown that he's ever given or received so that they never shrivel up and die

-OCD, autism, and ADHD

-loves rock, metal, and punk music. Especially FFDP (THEY HAVE NO BUSINESS BEING THAT FRICKIN' GOOD LIKE WHAT-)

-friends with the OG13 (no dip Sherlock-), Maine, Texas, and Louisiana.

-REFUSES TO ADMIT HE HAS A SOFT SPOT FOR NEW YORK. EVEN IF HE'S ACTIVELY HUGGING HIM. HE WILL DENY IT TILL THE DAY HE DIES. HE WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THIS DAMN KID.

-^the moment he met New York, he was filled with the urge to take him away from England immediately. He does pick favorite brothers btw. And it's New York.

-sharp lil canines like he's a friggin vampire smh

Sippi:

-he is a squishy boy and we love that <3 it just makes him better for cuddling

-he's not short, not tall, he's only 5'8.

-he's a pathetic loser tbh but we still love him

-sippi loves stuffed animals, but his favorite is a teddy bear that was given to him by New York (fun fact, teddy bears were invented in Brooklyn, and were named after the president that refused to shoot a bear!).

-he named it Mr. Cuddles, and it is the most beat up stuffed animal that he owns (as in, its ear had to be sewn back on, one of its eyes has been replaced by a button, and it has random stitches and patches all over) but he still loves it and cherishes it to this day.

-friends with (omg he has friends????) Texas, Louisiana, Florida, New York, South Carolina and Georgia

-yes yes he is but a cuddly marshmallow. Until you hurt someone he loves. Then you're dead.

-he SCREAMS whenever there's a bug. Strangely though, he likes ants, moths, and butterflies.

-mans is colorblind

-he doesn't like his squishy-ness and has tried to starve himself on numerous occasions :(

-I think that the fact that he's been owned by 3 different countries is grounds to give him abandonment issues right? Okay.

-if it weren't for his friends just simply existing, he would've been long gone by now. (same tho- I mean what?)

-I'm not gonna say he's hurt himself before, but I'm not gonna say he hasn't either 👁️👁️

-bro thinks that anybody he gets close to is gonna leave him :[

-if he gets hurt, he's not gonna bother telling anyone cuz he doesn't wanna feel like a failure for not being able to defend himself

Texas:

-this man is T A L L- he's 6'5 (not as tall as Alaska though so HA-)

-I imagine him to be very slim and fit, but he has a tiny bit of pudge around his lower stomach and hips and thighs.

-he LOVES animals so, so much. More than humans tbh.

-he has a horse (Ranger), 5 dogs (Rosco, Daisy, Cassy, Billie, and Maria. Rosco and Cassy are German Shepherds, Daisy and Billie are heelers, and Maria is a demonic chihuahua), 3 cats (Mittens, Sassy, and Milo), and 2 snakes (Spot and Harvey).

-^thats just at the statehouse. Back home, he has an animal sanctuary where he takes care of animals, takes them in, nurses them back to health, ect... It's very adorable and I love it.

-speaking of animals, he cannot, I repeat, CANNOT keep it together if an animal dies or gets hurt in a movie. Homeward Bound? Mans was not okay. Hachi? He wasn't ballin', he was bawling 😔.

-I BELIEVE IN TRANSMASC TEXAS SUPREMACY 🛐

-he still wears a binder cuz he doesn't trust the doctors to perform top surgery on him.

-ADHD for DAYS- don't give him an energy drink unless you want a 6'5 chihuahua on cocaine to be following you around.

-ADHD, autism, ocd, depression, anxiety, and ptsd. Idk if daddy issues counts, but he has those for sure.

-this bitch has fallen off of so many things that he no longer takes fall damage

-Mexico was such an asshole to poor Texas...... I wanna skin him alive :)

-Texas CANNOT handle someone raising their hand or voice at him. He can't. He will flinch and/or cry. Which he hates. Cuz he's supposed to have this reputation as the big strong Lone Star State.

-he has SH scars on his wrists, sides, and thighs. They vary from blade marks, to cigarette burns, to even scratches.

-he hates all of his scars so, so much and sees them as nothing but a sign of his weakness and inability to defend himself.

-Texas is also kinda insecure about the little bit of pudge on his lower belly, hips, and thighs. What makes it worse is that he can't really help it. Especially the stomach pudge cuz that's just where his uterus is. Does he know this? Yes. Is he still insecure? Yes.

-he often binds too long or forgets that he has his binder on until it's too late and there is severe bruising and even minor bleeding underneath the band. Along with breathing difficulties.

-^to make the breathing difficulties thing worse, he has asthma :)

——————

#welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #ben brainard #wttt #wttsh #wttt massachusetts #wttsh massachusetts #wttt mississippi #wttsh mississippi #wttt texas #wttsh texas

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mocktortis · 2 months

Text

So recently I've been seeing this bit of information around that "Lewis Carroll was a mathematician and he was inspired to write Alice in Wonderland because he was really frustrated by the contemporary math of his time." Specifically people kept bringing up imaginary numbers.

And that struck me as weird, because I have read a lot of writings on Alice, and I had never come across this before. I have the mega-version of the Annotated Alice, and multiple copies of Alice with introductions from pretty well-known Carrollian scholars. They all mentioned that Carroll's real identity was the mediocre mathematician Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, but never really tied that with Alice. Even The Annotated Alice, which was edited by the math guy Martin Gardner, only has math related footnotes when math (usually arithmetic) is specifically brought up by the text (such as when Alice is struggling to remember her times-tables). I should probably warn you now, there will be math in this post.

So... where does this claim come from?

I asked people for sources, and I got one response that was actually useful. They admitted they didn't have an academic source, but told me to try googling "Alice in wonderland math". It was the best lead I had (one person told me verbatim "Google is free". Classy), so I put it into Google and came up with a decent amount of results. The first article I found linked to another article from 2009 by a doctoral candidate at Oxford called Melanie Bayley. Unfortunately, the article is only available if you make an account with New Scientist, which I was not keen to do. I moved on, continued reading through poorly written articles and 10 year-old blogs, looking through their sources to see where they were getting their information... and every single article and blog post linked back to Bayley's article from 2009, or an op-ed she wrote for NY Times (also blocked behind a give-your-name-to-the-fae type deal). Fortunately, one of my family members actually has an NY Times account already, so I just asked if I could use their account to access this article.

Eureka. After reading through so many misinformed and poorly explained sources (one of which just copy-pasted Bayley's article into their blog), reading Bayley's actual article was like a miracle. It was so well-written, well-researched, and actually solidly convincing. I was nearly crying at just how beautiful the thing everyone else was ripping off really was. This encouraged me to make an account to read her New Scientist article.

Bayley references back to a paper published in 1984 by Helena Pycior, At the Intersection of Mathematics and Humor. Pycior is a Professor at University of Wisconsin Milwaukee, an MA in math, and a historian. Her paper is rigorously researched and does a fabulous job of explaining mathematical advancements (especially symbolical algebra) in the late-18th to mid-19th centuries, Lewis Carroll's own education in mathematics, and his more serious writings on math as Charles Dodgson. Pycior also highlights a line in the chapter Alice's Evidence, when Alice remarks, "I don't believe there's an atom of meaning in it, which is eerily similar to a line in Augustus De Morgan's Trigonometry and Double Algebra ("With one exception, no word nor sign of arithmetic or algebra has one atom of meaning throughout this chapter,"), a math textbook Carroll definitely read. Pycior's paper is very technical, however, and might not be for everyone. But it is a great foundation for Bayley to base her claims.

While I would highly recommend reading Bayley's articles, I understand not everyone will be interested, so I will summarize:

Bayley's analysis mainly focuses on sections added by Lewis Carroll after 1864. Carroll's original manuscript, written for Alice Liddell and her sisters, is missing several scenes from the final published version, and there are some scenes in the manuscript that were extended in the final version. The scenes Bayley dissects are Advice from a Caterpillar, Alice's first meeting with the Duchess, Alice's conversation with the Cheshire Cat, and A Mad Tea Party.

Bayley first covers the chapter Advice From a Caterpillar. She connects it to De Morgan's Trigonometry and Double Algebra. Helena Pycior points out that Carroll was "clearly inspir[ed]" by De Morgan, and references De Morgan in a few of his academic works published under his real name. Bayley draws attention to De Morgan's use of the Arabic phrase: "al jebr e al mokabala" —the original Arabic name for algebra. Bayley explains that it means "restoration and reduction". I actually don't think I can put it much better than she did, so I will use an excerpt from her article:

"Restoration was what brought Alice to the mushroom: she was looking for something to eat or drink to “grow to my right size again”, and reduction was what actually happened when she ate some: she shrank so rapidly that her chin hit her foot."

A little later, Bayley adds:

"De Morgan... proposed... that symbolic algebra should be considered as a system of grammar. “Reduce” algebra from a universal arithmetic to a series of logical but purely symbolic operations, he said, and you will eventually be able to “restore” a more profound meaning to the system – though at this point he was unable to say exactly how."

Part of the Caterpillar's "advice" to Alice is "Keep your temper", after Alice complains that she keeps changing in size. Alice assumes he means not to get angry but, as Bayley explains "To intellectuals at the time, though, the word “temper” also retained its original sense of “the proportion in which qualities are mingled”" ie. tempered steel, tempered glass, tempered chocolate etc. Bayley proposes that the Caterpillar is using this meaning of the word temper— meaning his remark would be advising her to keep her proportions the same, even if she can't stay the same size. That remark becomes relevant after Alice tries changing her size with the two sides of the mushroom: when she tries just the small side, her torso shrinks and brings her face so close to her feet she can scarcely open her mouth; when she tries just the large size, her neck stretches to ridiculous lengths. Only when she tries a bit of both in a balance— tempering them— is she able to change size while keeping her proportions.

Alice next encounters the Duchess in her kitchen, and the Duchess' notably ugly baby. As the Duchess leaves for croquet she throws (literally throws) her baby at Alice, who catches the baby and takes it outside, reasoning to herself that the violent Duchess and her Cook would likely kill the baby if Alice were to leave it there. As Alice looks down at the baby, she realizes it is turning into a pig, and she releases the baby-turned-pig into the wood.

Bayley's interpretation of this scene is as a satire of projective geometry— and specifically the "principle of continuity", laid out by French mathematician Jean-Victor Poncelet. Poncelet's description of the principle (via Bayley) is “Let a figure be conceived to undergo a certain continuous variation, and let some general property concerning it be granted as true, so long as the variation is confined within certain limits; then the same property will belong to all the successive states of the figure.” In Bayley's NY Times article, she explains it more clearly as, "[the principle of continuity] involves the idea that one shape can bend and stretch into another provided it retains the same basic properties— a circle is the same as an ellipse or parabola."

Bayley suggests that Carroll's rebuttal to this is based off Poncelet's use of the word "figure". If the figure of a triangle can change its shape while remaining a triangle, then the figure of a person (or baby, in this case) can also change its shape. As Bayley puts it "What works for a triangle should also work for a baby."

Skipping ahead to the Mad Tea Party, Bayley proposes that the characters of the March Hare, the Mad Hatter, and the Dormouse, are paralleling the concept of quaternions, proposed by William Rowan Hamilton in 1843. Hamilton's Lectures on Quaternions was the first way of representing rotations in three dimensions with algebra, and it was well-known enough at the time that it is reasonable to assume Carroll had read it, or at least seen arguments relating to it.

Here is Bayley's explanation of Hamilton's quaternions:

"Just as complex numbers work with two terms, quaternions belong to a number system based on four terms. Hamilton spent years working with three terms – one for each dimension of space – but could only make them rotate in a plane. When he added the fourth, he got the three-dimensional rotation he was looking for, but he had trouble conceptualising what this extra term meant. Like most Victorians, he assumed this term had to mean something, so in the preface to his Lectures on Quaternions of 1853 he added a footnote: “It seemed (and still seems) to me natural to connect this extra-spatial unit with the conception of time.”"

Breaking that down a little more (serious math alert): a complex number is a number with two terms, a real portion (represented by a), and an imaginary portion (represented by bi), and is written as a+bi. One of Hamilton's quaternions would be represented like this: a+bi+cj+dk. (I don't really know how they work either.)

In A Mad Tea Party, the Mad Hatter says, "It's always six o'clock now", trapping the party at perpetual teatime. The Hatter's explanation for this is that he quarreled with the personification of Time, and in retaliation, Time is keeping the clocks at six for the foreseeable future. Without Time, the Mad Hatter, the March Hare, and The Dormouse keep rotating around the table, as if in a two-dimensional plane. It is possible that this is Carroll's way of poking fun at the absurd idea that time would factor into an expression meant to determine the movement of objects in space.

And it is this final section of Bayley's article which gets misinterpreted into the claim, "Lewis Carroll was inspired to write Alice in Wonderland because he was frustrated by imaginary numbers."

I want to end with this: we have no proof Carroll intended any sort of mathematical allegory in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. He seemingly did his best to keep his life as a mathematician and his life as a popular children's author separate from one another. Most of his surviving writing's on his inspirations for Alice make no mention of Math. That said, Melanie Bayley's article provides a truly fascinating interpretation of some of the most beloved episodes in Alice, and I wouldn't begrudge anyone who wants to believe it.

If you're interested in reading more, this is a free PDF of Melanie Bayley's NY Times op-ed. The first page is an email someone sent to friends that contained the article, but the full article is underneath.

Also, this article by Art Publika has a great overview of both of Melanie Bayley's articles, plus some extra background on Carroll, and so many pictures.

#alice's adventures in wonderland #alice in wonderland #pig and pepper #a mad tea party #alice's evidence #Melanie Bayley #long post #very long post #this took me forever to research and write out #so glad i'm finally finished #math

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vtforpedro · 6 months

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long life update - TWs in tags

It feels like it's been ages. I'm so exhausted and in a lot of physical pain. Going on two months of it being the worst it's been right after a couple of months of the best it's been. Chronic pain + grief + trying to get help from doctors who should have their licenses revoked + dealing with a shit relationship with my mom + a good, decades-long friendship ending + the ongoing disability process with the SSA + LAW FIRMS.

I'm so fucking tired. I don't remember if I updated that the appeals council decided not to review my case because the 'judge followed the law' except that he didn't. So, as it turns out, my original attorney (and he did not tell me this) before he left, wrote that if they denied me, it should go to federal district court.

I'm now working with a NY law firm to take my case to federal court because my current law firm believes it has merit, and I guess they do, too. That's how fucked the decision was, and I'm glad my initial reaction of bewilderment and anger was spot on lol

The good news is, it should only take another year! ._.

My neurologist is the worst doctor I have ever come across and I'm quite literally stuck with him with nowhere else to go. I wish him upon no one. I'm so tired of calling the SSA, getting documents to them, signing things for law firms, contacting law firms, getting no responses, and contacting them all over and over again. I am in incredible physical pain, like this actively makes my neuro stuff worse. Everything makes it worse. I have autonomic testing in a few days, and idk if I'll get through it b/c I have to stop the meds that keep me out of the ER two days prior, and it scares me.

My relationship with my mom is fractured and I don't feel like family therapy is actually helping. I had to end a friendship with someone I love and care very much about but who was growing too comfortable mistreating me and I was giving them too many passes 😞 I've known them for the better part of two decades.

It's been over seven months since my cat Isis died. I don't know how. It feels like she was here just yesterday. Yet, all the nights I've sat and talked to her and wept are all too real. I miss her more than I can say. She was my soul cat. I keep thinking about tomorrow and how she'd be so nosy getting into EVERYthing when gifts are opened at Christmas. Having to stop her, move her, laugh because she was just so n o s y and it was hilarious. And she's not gonna be here for that ever again.

I'm having a really fucking hard time tonight. It's just hitting me how god-awful this year has been and how I have a bad week to look forward to before even getting to the new year lmao I have to stop taking so many of my medications 48hrs before 1.5-2hrs of testing to see if we can find out Yet Another Thing Wrong With Me but knowing my luck it'll be 'no findings' and the mystery of why my core body temp plummets to 93.9 in the blink of an eye won't be solved until I have suffered juuuuust enough.

It never ends. Never. I want to give up. I'm so tired of doing this. I don't want to anymore. It never. fucking. ends.

I absolutely cannot say it's all been bad, though. I've met incredible, warm, welcoming, giving, kind people this year. Y'all have helped me more than you know and I'm so so so lucky to be able to call you my friends. This year has sucked for so many of us, but I want to say I'm proud of you, and I love you all very much.

My fic is gonna be printed in a hardcover zine early next year. I participated in a Big Bang for the first time and that'll also go out early next year. I'm hosting a tiny event in my tiny fandom server that I'm super excited about. I have a raffle prize to write (bagginshield !!!! SO EXCITED to revisit the og otp) and a Valentine's gift to write for another fandom.

I posted 401,000 words this year and wrote many more unfinished wips, plus a long one (90k) that I am very invested in finishing.

I painted and drew so much this year. I improved a lot, too! I got a couple of portraits printed from inprnt to see how they looked, and it was MY art, and they were GORGEOUS. I thought I would hate seeing my art professionally printed, but no! I almost cried. They looked so lovely.

My cat Lilly had health issues almost immediately following Isis's passing, but she is doing so well right now. She's blossomed into another cat, and while she's not my constant companion, she is with me so much more than she used to be. When she walks onto my desk I am to stop everything and hold her like baby in my arms until she decides that's enough (or I really need to move) lmaaao she's such a goober. My heart cat. <3

I'm not doing well right now--my MH is bad. Especially tonight. But it felt good to write the good things.

I'm sorry for my lack of replies and kinda disappearing. I'm running on fumes. I hope next year will bring physical relief so emotional relief can happen.

For those of you facing difficulties of any kind, I am holding your hand in spirit.

#vtforpedro personal #vtforpedro medical #tw mental illness #tw medical #tw depressing stuff #tw pet loss #I always wish I have something better to write #gonna try to do everything in my power to make that happen next year

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brunchable · 2 years

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hey i really love your posts so i wonder if i could make a request of a dead avenger reader x stephen strange. the reader died during the fight with wanda, stephen could not get over her death so he decided to take a walk around ny to clear his mind but ends up feeling way worse becuase everything around him reminds him of her so like a bit of flashbacks and stuff!! i feel like this would be very angsty with some fluff ofc. idk this might be too long but if you could i would like to see where you would go with it!!

Till There Was You || Doctor Strange x Dead!Avenger Reader

Word count: 1.4K Genre: Angst. :( Warning: Character death. Brief Story Summary: Stephen tries to take his mind away from you by taking a walk around the neighbourhood, only for his memories of you to come flooding through. Dedicated to: @strangeobsessed A/N: I am so sorry this took so long.

It’s been a month since the thing Stephen had feared the most had happened and he's got no one to blame but himself for not resisting you, he was the one that led you to your demise. No matter how many times Wong or America tried to tell him that it wasn't his fault, he still took the blame upon himself. He knows he needs to start moving on but the love he had left for you was hindering him. How could he move on from a woman who had left a strong mark on him?

You took your last breath in the hospital where you succumbed to your injuries during the battle with Wanda. You opened your eyes and smiled at him when you saw him by your side, and then closed them again as you began to flat line. It was the last time he saw you awake and alive. He got up to give you a kiss on the forehead, at which point your heart started and beat for a couple more seconds, and then slowly stopped again.

Your soft, fragile hands grew cold like stone. Stephen exhaled what was left of his sanity. Every second he shared with you travelled through his mind. He was unable to control his sobbing, and tears flowed freely from his eyes. Regrets and shame about the times he was mad at you or didn’t come see you in the hospital, consumed his body with guilt and pain. He could not comprehend what was happening. The thought of being alone once again in this god forsaken world, scared him. Never again would he see you smile. Never again would you call him Doctor Wizard, a nickname you used to tease him with that he’s grown to love.

The weight of his heart could bring him to his knees, “I love you, I’m sorry.” Stephen whispered, leaning over the hospital bed. His heart sank to his feet. He thought, what’s the point of living his life if you’re gone? The closer you became, the harder it was for him to lose you and the longer it took for his heart to heal.

Stephen rushed out of the Sanctum to clear his mind, even though the Sanctum was huge, it felt like a confined space where memories of you just came to haunt him. He didn’t want to be reminded that you were gone. He didn’t know what to do with the rest of your things, everyday the little reminders you left like photos, plushies, paintings and books gets harder to look at. Whoever said that it gets easier over time was a liar—he couldn’t even hold a photo of you in his hands without his hands trembling. He has considered giving away all your stuff because it was hard to keep it around—it makes him feel like you were still there, that you’re going to come back.

A couple holding hands walks past Stephen, reminding him of what’s missing. The touch of your hands, the warmth it gave him and the sense of you beside him. Maybe it was better if he stayed inside because even out here, everything reminds him of you. Butterflies flew around the flowers in Central Park and one landed on his shoulder. You loved butterflies, and since you died, he’s had them land on him with strange regularity wherever he was around the world.

“Oh my gosh! Stephen, look!” You pointed enthusiastically at the Blue Morpho you spotted in the park garden.

“What exactly am I looking at?” Stephen squinted his eyes, trying to spot what you were pointing at.

“The blue iridescent butterfly, can you see? Over there!” You pointed at the most unique one in the garden.

Stephen finally spotted the butterfly and nodded, “Wow, it’s very pretty.”

“I know right? But you know what’s sad? They would never know how beautiful they are because they can’t see their wings.”

“Sounds like someone I know.” Stephen chuckled and looked at you.

You rolled your eyes and bumped him with your shoulder, “Don’t try to get cheesy with me—I’ll throw you to the moon.”

The butterfly stayed on his shoulder even though he continued on walking through the path, “Don’t get cute with me—I’m mad at you for leaving me behind.” Stephen mumbled under his breath, as he started a conversation with a butterfly.

He chuckled to himself, “Look what you did to me, I’m going crazy, talking to a butterfly…ridiculous.”

Stephen climbs up the hill and finds the spot in the grass where you and him used to lay together to stargaze with the telescope you recklessly bought. The butterfly flew off as he laid down on the grass to look at the cloudy sky. You used to talk in this spot for hours on end, laughing at each other’s jokes while you waited for the sky’s colours to change. For a long moment, it was as if he could feel you laying beside him. If he turns his head to look, he’d see you with your hands pointed towards the sky, showing him all the constellations you knew of, your eyes sparkling as you talk about all the things that interest you—but he didn’t dare to look because he was afraid to see the empty space beside him.

Stephen took a deep breath as he felt the pressure behind his eyes building up and tears rolled down the side of his face, he missed your presence the more he imagined that you were there beside him.

“Damn it— I wish you were here.” He whispered towards the heavens, “I wish you were really there, right next to me. I wish I could look over and see the fascinated expression in your eyes when you look at the stars—see you smiling back at me. I wish I could tuck your hair behind your ears again and tell you how beautiful you are—I don’t know how to move on from you.” He says through his tears, a sharp pain stabs through his chest as the weight of his own wishes hits him. Stephen covered his eyes with his arm, his expression tightened as if all of his facial muscles were holding in his emotions which he failed to suppress—choking on a small but audible sob.

The last heartfelt conversation you had with him entered his mind, in the amount of months you’ve been together you never once asked why he chose you because you never doubted how he felt about you—but on that particular day, you were curious, you felt the urge to know why he loves you. You knew you wouldn’t be at peace if you didn’t ask.

You were sitting on the opposite chair from Stephen while you stared at him. He nibbled at the end of his pen while reprinting certain spell books since the snow had destroyed them.

He couldn’t ignore the way you were staring at him, so he looked up at you.

"Something wrong?" He asked. Because he recognised the way you were looking at him, there was a trace of worry in his voice since he wasn’t really fond of that kind of look.

"Why do you love me?"

The words that came out of your lips pierced him right to his very centre. Such a simple question, yet you couldn't see the answer? From the opposite side, he grabbed both of your hands. The words that he spoke came out of his lips in a stream, an answer that he had thought about so much that it was almost automatic.

"The way your eyes light up when you become excited about something is one of the reasons why I love you. In spite of your opinion that you think your laugh sounds like a dying pig, I love you because your laughter makes my heart soar. You are the reason I love myself, because you give me hope when it feels like the entire world is against me. I adore you because of the way that you express your affection for me, whether it is by a single touch or a million words. Either way, I know that I am loved by you. Because you’re always there for me when I'm having a bad day. Cause my day won’t be made until I feel your presence next to me. There are many reasons as to why I love you, my dear. But there's only one way for me to properly summarise it."

As the smile that he loved so much grew over your face, he gave you the summarised response to the question you had asked.

"I love you, because you're you. And that's all that matters to me. My world was dark and grey, till there was you."

TAGS: @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @elicheel @sherlux @lucywrites02 @stanny-uwu @frostandflamesfanfic @jamiethenerdymonster @oakl3y @zdhunn @captaincarmel164 @justsomecreaturewandering @soiopathicdetectivekid @fan-of-fic @gaitwae @shit-post-things @seasonofthenerd @patbrdac @evelynrosestuff @singhfae @severuined @mischiefmanaged71 @farfromjustordinary @drstrangesgirl91 @spideyyhoe @lovecleastrange @samisubi @mochuchi @faithinhome @ohchoices @junkertown-princess @sigyncevans @giorgiblog17 @dragonqueen89 @the-royal-petals @hiddlechive @peachypie97 @ghost-lantern @sleutherclaw @the-mouse27 @zelspktr @bobateadaydreams @lykaonimagines @valbensherstep @strangeobsessed @calsjack @strangeions @romanvffa @crowleyspett @goldencherriess @jyessaminereads @fandom-lover-4 @tis-vereon @rbymoon

#stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #benedict cumberbatch imagine #stephen strange x you #marvel x you #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch x you #doctor strange x you #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange #dr strange x reader #dr strange x you #angst

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