#is friends

[ender-niffler]

Sneak peakkkk to a Steve Oc :3

He’s a creator and to my friends you WILL behave yourselves in my comments /silly

[sjjdkdkwo]

He hadn’t even noticed Wong amongst the hoard of tentacle monsters at first. He’d been to busy narrowly struggling out of one the creature’s wicked grip to pay him any mind—in the aftermath he regrets not having at least taken the time to look over and see if his partner was ok—and in that moment all he could do was cast another incantation and release an energy blast from his hand. Scoring a hit on the creature’s eye, he managed to break free long enough to cast the flames of faltine and behold the creature as it caught on fire with a hellish shriek. The cloak had scarcely caught him in time before he could make it to ground in a heap of exhaustion. Watching the fire in front of him with relief and weariness he finally called to Wong with a chuckle.

 “Well, that went better than we thought it would. Right, Wong?” When no response was returned to him, he furrowed his brow and turned to inspect his partner. His stomach sank however when he was met with the sight of Wong face down and unmoving. “Wong?”

 To say he’d panicked would have been an understatement, but he would vehemently deny that he’d been anything but completely and wholly calm as he shouted for Christine when he appeared at Metro-General. After a few minutes arguing with a couple of the nurses, Christine had finally shown up, a beacon of light and sanctity amongst the tenebrosity and despair that was the hospital then. With a desperate plea he’d presented Wong, carefully cradled in his arms with his head tucked into Stephen’s shoulder. Heaving a heavy sigh and a strained smile she’d led them to the emergency ward to be taken care of.

 After leaving Christine to work he realized it’d been years since he’d been in a hospital waiting room as anything but a doctor. All of a sudden memories of his mother crying and his father sitting across from him in a mixture of silent fury and anguish, make their way into his mind as he bids his time. He could still hear Victor’s soft sniffling at his side as he clenched and unclenched his shaking hands presently. As an image of a pale and still Donna flashed through him, it was all Stephen could do to not to retch right then and there. Instead he turned his attention to the television, his gaze becoming unfocussed as he tried not to let his own thoughts ambush him. Meditation had been a tempting escape of course, but he found he didn’t want to let his mind wander now. Not when Wong was in surgery because of his own carelessness.

 Hours later, Stephen nearly toppled his seat over as he rushed to Christine when she made her way toward him. She lifted her hand in front of his face to stop him from bombarding her with what would’ve been undoubtedly an endless tirade of questioning.

 “He’s fine.” She said first, emphasizing the last word with a teasing smile. “A linear fracture on the right tibia, avulsion fracture of the left knee, and a few bruised ribs. All he needs now is proper time to rest.”

 This time when Stephen opened his mouth to speak, she placed her palm over it to prevent him from saying anything.

 “He’s ok.” Her face softened when she noticed the deep profound worry in his eyes, and she lifted her hand away. “I promise.”

 Stephen nodded, no doubt running his own diagnoses in his head and saving the information for later when he would survey Wong himself. Christine could only roll her eyes and gently shove him as he tried to make his way past her. “I need to see him.”

 “Absolutely not. As his doctor,” she began. “Wong is not to have any visitors till tomorrow.”

 “That’s ridiculous, Christine come on—“

 “And as your friend, I suggest you go home and get some rest yourself. You look like hell, Stephen.” She said, scrunching up her nose in the familiar way she did whenever she was worried.

 “I’m fine. “ Stephen snapped.

 “Stephen.”

 “Christine.”

 She groaned, this time shoving him with more force as she berated him on the importance of proper rest and recovery. Stephen allowed himself to be pushed—she was surprisingly stronger than he’d last remembered—before craning his head back to look at her one last time.

 “You’ll call me if anything happens right?” he asked meekly.

 “Of course.” She reassured.

 With that Stephen gave in and found an empty room to portal himself home. Contradictory to Christine’s advice though, Stephen stayed awake the entire night reading scriptures and practicing spells as the cloak fluttered anxiously around him. By the time the sun had risen, the morning light alerted him to just how terrible he actually looked and he hopped in the shower to freshen up before his visit to the hospital.

 Stephen had gotten there thirty minutes before visiting hours began, and in trying to find a way to pass the time he’d found himself inside the small gift shop in a corner of the building. Standing amongst the bright happy balloons and cheery stuffed toys, Stephen shuffled about awkwardly looking through floral arrangements and

knick knacks. He picked up a card with a cat on it’s front and scowled as he read ‘hope your feline better!’ before placing it back on the rack. He wandered around the rest of the shop before he landed in front of the assortment of stuffed animals and paused. His mind wandered back to another old memory, from when he was much younger. Donna had just gotten her tonsils removed and had been miserable throughout the whole ordeal. It wasn’t till Victor and him had presented her with a stuffed bear that she’d cracked her first smile, and then to the dismay of the nurses let them clamber onto her bed with her. They’d spent the rest of the visit cracking jokes in an effort to get her to laugh, teasing her when all she could manage were muffled groans in response. Warmth spread through him as he reminisced about easier happier times before he brought himself back to the present.

 Before he could change his mind Stephen settled his gaze on funny looking turtle placed on the left of the shelf. Staring down at it he took in the goofy little smile on its face and it’s round eyes. Its hands were sewn together to hold a miniature bouquet of flowers and pined to its belly was a blank note, likely for the gifter to write something down. Swallowing all the doubt that threatened to creep through him he quickly grabbed it and paid for it at the counter. Walking out with his purchase in hand he spotted a clock and was pleased to find he’d managed to pass through the thirty minutes while inside the shop, and made his way to Wong’s floor.

 After checking in with the nurse at the front desk—Stephen privately thanked Christine for gifting Wong a private space in his head—he made his way to Wong’s room. Knocking the door first, he only stepped inside once he heard Wong call out at him to enter. Quietly slipping in Stephen made his way toward the bed at center of the room and took in the man that lay in it. Wong’s face bore a few bruises and bandages and one or two stitches. Along with that a weary look rested over the whole of him, making his features look older and more worn than usual. He was settled underneath an itchy looking blanket, legs peaking out from under and dressed in casts. Culpability rose within in and settled heavy in his stomach as he studied him, and like always Wong read him like in open book.

 “Stop making that face and come sit down.” He said, gesturing to the chair next to him. Stephen hesitated though; clenching his fist around the bag he carried. Wong huffed before easing back against his pillows. “Just sit down and stop fussing, I’m fine, Stephen.”

 “Your in the hospital, I hardly count that as being fine.” Stephen frowned.

 He sat down nonetheless, his movements stiff as he settled into the uncomfortable chair.

 “This coming from the man who by all accounts, should be dead from all the injuries he sustains on a daily basis.”

 “That’s different” Stephen mumbled.

 “Oh? And how is that?”

 “I’m sturdy.”

 “Are you saying I’m frail?” Wong raised a brow.

 Stephen merely shrugged.

 “No, I’m just saying you’re not sturdy like me.“

 Wong only stared at him, his expression telling Stephen he knew he was full of it. Wong also knew Stephen didn’t mean to dismiss his strength or worth, and could see through all the walls he’d meticulously placed to understand that what Stephen was truly saying was: “I was worried for you.” While their relationship at colleagues was not new by any means, they’d only just begun to breech onto something beyond partnership overlooking the Sanctum. He didn’t know what to call it yet, but if you asked Wong now what Stephen meant to him he would say, without hesitation, more than he ever expected him to. And letting his eyes wander over Stephen, his own concern stirred as he took in the man’s gaunt face and heavy eye bags. A few scratches littered his visage and Wong wondered if he’d bothered to overlook himself for any injuries in his haste.

 “Have you rested?”

 “I went home last night.” Stephen answered, wording his answer mindfully to avoid scolding.

 “And did you sleep?”

 Stephen didn’t answer that time, instead looking away from him and Wong only sighed, shaking his head. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before he heard Stephen shuffle around at his side. Turning his head lazily he was greeted with a toy turtle. It’s dopey cartoonish face smiling at him, shaking a little alongside Stephen’s hand. Wong paused, holding an intense staring contest with the turtle before taking it into his hands and looking back toward Stephen.

 “What is this?” he asked.

 “A turtle.”

 Wong scoffed, turning the stuffed toy in his hands and running his fingers over its soft satiny body. Something stirred in him when he read ‘get well soon’ in shaky almost unintelligible writing. He knew how Stephen’s ongoing struggle with the skill still embarrassed him and he forced down the smile that threatened to crack his stoic face.

 “I know that.” He said. “But, why?”

 Wong regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth when Stephen grimaced, humiliation and self-consciousness radiating off of him as he tried to reach over to take the turtle back.

 “Your right it was stupid here let me—“

 Even with his injuries Wong was still faster, pulling the thing over his head and away from Stephen’s reach.

 “No, it’s mine now.” He said looking Stephen in the eye, daring him to even try and reach back for it. When Stephen pulled back and slumped in his chair, arms crossed with a prominent frown Wong hummed in approval. “Good. You stay there.”

 Stephen glowered at him before turning his face away from Wong. He wasn’t able to hide the little satisfied smile in time though, and this time Wong didn’t stop his own from slipping through.

 “Thank you.”

 ——

 Duties at the sanctum still required tending to, so most of Stephen’s visits had been sporadic; yet still without fail Stephen always came by every single time to keep Wong company. For the first three days he’d been lucky enough to be able to at least show up clean and dressed in civilian clothing, usually bearing some sort of treat for Wong who always complained about the terrible hospital food. On the forth day though a battle with intergalactic beings had run longer than usual, and by the time he’d finished he’d realized that he’d already entered the next day when he saw it was one in the morning. Stephen debated going home and going to see Wong later in the day, but truth be told he’d come to enjoy their visits. He’d reached the striking realization on the second day, that he missed Wong as he was forced to wander the sanctum with only the cloak to keep him company. Even his faithful companion had been more dreary than usual at the loss of the third member of their home.

 So after careful consideration Stephen opened up a portal to the hospital, casting a silencing spell over the room before stepping in. He patted himself on the back mentally for doing so, as mere seconds within making his way inside he tripped over his usual chair. From the floor Stephen could hear Wong’s snoring come to a startling halt and a bright light washed over the room as he activated his magic. Stephen struggled out of the cloaks grasp before pulling himself back up with help from the bed.

 “Stephen!?”

 “Hello, Wong.” He said, dusting himself off. “It’s good to see you. Sorry I got here so late, you wouldn’t believe the trouble I had to sort through today.”

 Wong didn’t get the chance to speak before the cloak was smothering him in a tight embrace, patting him all over and squeezing his face between it’s corners. Under the floating fabric he could make out Stephen’s hearty laughter as he tried to wrestle his way from underneath it.

 “The cloak missed you too.” Stephen said.

 Wong at last managed to pop his head out from under the cloaks folds and took in a large breath of air. After settling he looked down and gave the cloak an affectionate pat, chuckling when it vibrated in happiness. Alongside him Stephen picked up the chair before settling into it, wincing when he rested his back against it and hopped Wong wouldn’t be able to see in the darkness of the room. His soft hiss of pain when he shifted ended up giving him away however.

 “Stephen.”

 “I’m fine Wong. Barely even a scratch.” He said.

 “Let me see then.”

 “I don’t think so. How about you tell me about your day instead? Did they give you the gross pudding again?”

 “I’ll call Christine.”

 “Christine doesn’t work tonight.”

 “She’s not the only doctor in this hospital.”

 “Your right, I’m also here. Look at that, I gave myself a clean bill of health.”

 “Stephen Strange.”

 Use of his full name never meant anything good, and soon Stephen found himself half clothed and sitting on the bed with Wong as he looked over his injured back. For the most part, he’d been right and the injury hadn’t been life threatening—though lack of proper care would caused trouble in the future and so Wong had resolved to use some of his magic to go over the worst of the damage. Stephen let out a noise of contentment as the pain began to ease under Wong’s steady ministrations.

 “Your not suppose to be using magic you know.” Stephen still groused. “Your suppose to be resting.”

 “I’m feeling better.” Wong said easily.

 “Liar.”

 “Pot—”

 “Meet Kettle, I know.”

 When Wong finished Stephen adjusted his robes again and moved to sit. But then his eyes spotted the bag that had fallen when he’d tripped earlier. Remembering what was inside he keenly made his was over to reach for it before finally making his way into the chair. He looked over at Wong and saw that his eyes had closed, the cloak draped over him protectively and securely. It brought one of its corners to Wong’s lips, making a shushing signal at Stephen who nodded with a tender smile in response. Quietly he slipped out the tub of ice cream and held it up for the cloak to see.

 “Guess he won’t be eating this tonight, huh?” he whispered to it.

 “Is that what I think it is?”

 Stephen said nothing, instead trying to decipher how Wong knew what he was holding up even though his eyes were closed.

 “How?”

 “It’s our favorite, remember?”

 Stephen didn’t even bother to fight the fondness that overtook him as he opened the tub and plucked out two spoons from the bag.

 “I remember. Come on then, before it melts.”

 They’d spent the rest of the night talking about Stephen’s encounter of the day and Wong’s disgruntlement at having to spend another few days in the hospital. Wong had finally eased into a restful sleep just before the sun rose, and Stephen and the cloak quietly made their way out to let him rest.

 ——

 The last day before Wong was discharged was, luckily for Stephen, a calm day in regards to matters of the sanctum. Therefore he managed to make it back to the hospital on time to catch their new favorite reality TV show, something they’d picked up during their recent days together. They were just starting to berate one of the contestants on the show when it cut to commercial.

 “He could’ve done better than that, the presentation was terrible.” Wong said as he plucked another prawn cracker from the bag between them.

 “It wasn’t so bad, at least he didn’t set anything on fire this time.” Stephen said.

 Wong hummed in agreement, casting a glance at Stephen from the corner of his eye. He looked additionally tired today, and though he’d tried to hide it, Wong had been able to spot the limp he carried when he walked into the room. It wasn’t the first time Wong felt guilt bubble up from within him as he drank in Stephen’s worn figure. He knew that usually Stephen would use moments like these to meditate and rest from his daily clash and brawl. But Stephen had refused to miss a single visiting day since Wong had been admitted to the hospital, and the fact alone frustrated him to no end. Mainly because between those visits, something had changed. They’d slipped further into this new breech, more of their walls breaking down with every day that passed. And simply put, Wong didn’t know where they stood anymore or what they were to each other.

 He chose not to say anything on the matter though, knowing well enough that if he did, Stephen’s insecurities would increase tenfold. Something still stirred ceaselessly within him though, and Wong found he couldn’t hold the words that came to mind then back anymore.

 “I wanted to thank you.” He said.

 Stephen had just shoved a couple of the crackers into his mouth, crumbs sticking to his beard as he turned toward Wong and tried to speak around his mouthful.

 “For what?” he mumbled.

 “For visiting and spending time with me. Thank you.”

 Stephen waved him off with shaky hand, moving awkwardly in his seat and swallowing before looking away again.

 “It’s fine, really. Don’t mention it.”

 Wong hesitated.

 “No. Stephen really. Thank you I—…” he continued. “I’ve enjoyed our time together.”

 Stephen remained facing away from him, and from his position on the bed Wong could see him clench and unclench his hands. By now he’d registered it was a nervous tick of his partner, and a fleeting sensation of fret passed through him. He relaxed though when he noticed them unclench and settle as still as they could on his lap. After a beat of silence he finally spoke.

 “Yes, I have too.”

 ——

 Wong was a few weeks into his recovery from home, overlooking a few scriptures they’d received from sorcerers of another dimension when he’d felt Stephen’s presence near the sanctum. The creature he’d gone off to deal with hadn’t appeared to be of monumental threat and Stephen had insisted on going alone to aid in Wong’s recovery. He’d agreed, figuring he could play catch up on overseeing matters that Stephen had likely forgotten during his stressful time overseeing his duties and Wong. He’d just barely made it to the bottom of the stairs when the portal opened.

 And a heap of dead monstrous bodies had piled out of it. Followed by a mutilated Stephen scrambling over them to stand in front of Wong. Only to pass out right after he did.

 It wasn’t a second later before Wong was rushing toward him and overlooking him. Admonishing Stephen’s passed out form as he scooped him up with the help of the cloak to make sure he was properly treated.

 ——

 Later, Stephen would wake up in a daze, trying to decipher where he was only to realize he was in the hospital. He’d been about to pass out from the pain again when his head lolled to the side and his eyes found a smiling stuffed monkey with a balloon attached to its body on his bedside table. He could just barely make out the words ‘hang in there!’ when he’d choked out an ugly buoyant laugh. He wondered for a minute if the roof was leaking when he felt wetness on his face before it registered that he was crying.

 When the nurse comes in later to check on him, she notes that he’s smiling in his sleep.

 ——

 It was month later that Peter came to visit; eager to see everyone at the sanctum after being told they weren’t up for visitors for weeks. It’d been Wong who’d let him in, face stony as usual, but attentively listening to every word thrown at him as the teenager jabbered away. They’d hardly moved from the front door when Peter had spotted them, sitting innocently and huddled close together on the table against the right wall. Wong hadn’t even noticed them before Peter pointed them out.

 “Hey Mr. Wong, what are those?” Wong followed his finger and startled when he saw them. The turtle and the monkey, bright smiles on both of their faces and heads pushed carefully against each other. “Oh! Are they super evil dolls that are like, possessed by demons or something?”

 “No.”

 “Oh.” Peter made a face before his eyes lit up again. “Wait! Are they like, super powerful weapons in disguise?”

 “No.”

 “Okay what about—“

 “No.”

 Peter moaned in exasperation, crossing his arms and pulling a face at Wong.

 “What are they then?”

 Before Wong could answer he could make out the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Stephen. He paused and turned to the two stuffed toys one last time, and studied them intently before breaking out into a large grin. Oh yes, he knew now exactly what they were now. As Stephen neared, he realized he didn’t really mind if the other man heard what he was about to say. With that in mind he turned to Peter, smile still in place and finally answered.

 “They’re friends.”

[onascaleofonetotenitsnotegod]

[saltbertmoved]

hey guys friendly reminder my mom is friends with the mom of that super famous homestuck cosplayer elliot

[gxtawaycars]

SHAWN MENDES IS COMING TO MY CITY, THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I HOPE I'M ABLE TO GET TICKETS.

[ravenarrovv]

i have one tumblr friend and thats jackson 

come one guys talk to me :(

all i want is having friends so we could have matching icons or something at least 

its sad you know, 815 followers and having only a few actually talk to me. 

im.... 

actually very lonely here