Simple and Powerful Spells and Rituals for Magical Mondays | QuantumWitches
Hello, magical friends! 🌟✨
As I feel the vibrant energy of July upon me, I’m thrilled to introduce a new series for our beloved QuantumWitches community: Magical Mondays: Quick Spells and Rituals. Each Monday this month, I’ll be sharing simple, effective spells and rituals that you can easily incorporate into your weekly routine. Whether you’re looking to set positive intentions for your day,…
okay y’all, i’m off to tennesse in the morning. i’ve got a few posts queued (imagines included - part two to this) for the next few days. this strange!reader x peter was requested by @dank-memes. y’all know my love for stephen. writing him is so fun.
Stephen loved that you loved the mystic arts, but he hated that it was all you loved.
“Hey, honey,” he said, crossing the sanctum. He had a tray of hot tea in his hands. He set it down on the table you were seated at.
“Morning, Dad,” you said. Looking up, you saw the pot of tea. “You know I don’t drink tea.”
He paused. “Right,” he said. “Sorry, my mind isn’t with it today.”
“It’s okay,” you said, smiling.
“At least it’s good practice for you,” he said. “Enough of the reading, let’s see if you can really do some magic here.” He winked. He knew you were smart and beyond capable of doing extraordinary things. “Alright, make some coffee.”
He sat next to you and you looked at the pot. Half a second later, you reached over to open it. Stephen smiled as the smell of dark roast hit his nose.
“You can tell you’re my daughter,” he said.
You rolled your eyes, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You mixed in your creamer and sugar and then stirred it, not using your hands, but your mind. He sat back and picked up a book he had been reading the past few hours. Cracking it open, he watched you do the same.
“What are you doing today, sweetie?” he asked.
“This,” you replied, sounding fairly absent.
“Just this?”
“Yeah,” you said. Then you sighed. “Dad, if you start worrying about me again...”
“It’s just-” He sighed, and it sounded like you. “When I pulled you out of high school, you told me you wouldn’t do this.”
“Do what? There’s no point in me going to college. I know more than any student my age knows.”
“That’s now what I’m saying,” he said.
“Then what are you saying?” you asked. Your eyes (a mirrored image of his eyes) looked at him.
“Other than me, who have you spoken to today?” he asked.
“Wong,” you said. “Who do you think brought me the waffles?”
“When did Wong get you waffles?” he asked, noticing the take out box stacked full of them. He shook his head.
“This morning,” you replied. “With strawberry syrup.”
“That’s not... the point. Sweetie, you need friends.”
“I do not need friends.” You sipped your coffee.
“You’d be happier if you had someone your age to talk to,” he said.
“I’m happy now,” you said. “Talking to just you and Wong.”
Stephen shook his head. “Honey, I think... I think what happened three months ago proves that I may not be here forever. Wong told me what happened to you when I disappeared and didn’t come home. He told me. You can’t pretend that you won’t completely fall apart if I don’t ever come home.”
“You don’t know,” you whispered. Your voice grew hard. “I would be just fine.”
“No, you wouldn’t be,” he said.
You got up and crossed the floor, book and coffee in hand. It was clear you wouldn’t be saying another word to him for days.
Peter slowly raised his head from his desk.
He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and noticed that the whole classroom was empty. In front of him stood his biology teacher. She frowned as she looked at him.
Peter, realizing he had fallen asleep, hurriedly went to grab this things. He spilled his papers out of his binder and stooped down to pick them up, mumbling apologies.
“Peter,” his teacher said, “someone is in the office for you.”
“Aunt May?” he mumbled.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But the office called to tell me they needed you. Are you all right, Peter? You’ve been sleeping more than usual.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.” He picked up all of his things and left, calling back, “Have a great day.”
As Peter walked to the office, he kept his head down and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he got a full night’s sleep, or the last time he ate properly, or gave any effort at all. Truth was, the death of Tony Stark had completely wrecked him.
He walked into the office, thinking May was there. Maybe he had forgotten his lunch money or phone or something...
But instead, he saw Stephen Strange stand up from a chair.
“Mr. Strange,” he mumbled in shock. “Oh. Doctor. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said. He waved his hand. “I heard you’ve been having a rough time.”
“Oh.”
“Failing five classes, failing to show up when people need Spider-Man,” he said. He approached him slowly. “Is everything all right?”
Peter fidgeted. “I don’t know. I guess.”
“I know it’s hard,” he said. “Losing someone.”
He closed his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Stephen put his hand on his shoulder. “I have a job for you, kid. A job that I think will help you and my daughter.”
Magic (Peter Parker [TH] x Strange!Reader) PART TWO
Your bedroom door cracked open and your dad popped his head in. You frowned at him before pulling the book closer to your face. You knew you were being ridiculous. It was good that he cared about you. That was a good thing.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he said.
“I’m sorry, too. I know you’re just trying to help.”
“I am,” he said. He smiled.
“So you can help,” you said, “but just-”
“Good,” he interrupted. “Then how about you come hang out with me and the team.”
“The Avengers are here?” you asked, sitting up on your bed, book slipping off your lap. “Here?”
“Some of them,” he said.
You followed him out of your room and into the center of the sanctum. Everyone, from Scarlet Witch to Spider-Man stood before you. You stopped, feeling awkward and nervous. What do you even say to Avengers? You could barely talk to the pizza man when he dropped off your order.
“I want to bring you to the team,” he said. “I was discussing it with them, and they think it’s a good idea.”
“Bring me to the team?” you asked.
“Letting you be an Avenger,” he clarified.
“Yeah?” you asked. You tried not to smile, but you did.
“Welcome to the Avengers,” he said, backing up. He gestured to his team: broken, since the death of Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, but still alive.
“Just like that? It’s that easy?” you asked.
“Pretty much,” Scott Lang replied. “I got, uh, picked up and fought Iron Man and then a big purple alien and now I’m on the team. I guess that sounds easier than it was.”
“Yes - okay. Well. You will be training with Peter.”
“Spider-Man? Why? Wouldn’t it make more sense to train with you or Wong?”
“No,” he said. “No, it makes sense to train with Peter, because… it’s Peter and I… don’t have the time to train you.”
“I can train myself,” you pointed out, “and also, I’ve seen your schedule. You’re not busy.”
“You’re training with Peter,” he said finally, putting his hands up. “Okay?” He walked off, offering tea. Everyone followed.
Peter walked up to you. “I-I’m Peter, by the way. I don’t think I’ve met you before.”
“Hi, I’m ___,” you said. “I don’t want you to think I didn’t want you to train me…”
“Oh no, it’s cool. I don’t understand why I’m even training you.” He laughed nervously.
“I think I know,” you said, nodding slowly. “My dad wants me to have friends my age. That’s it.”
“Oh.” He crossed his arms. “And he picked me, because I’m failing twelfth grade.”
“Oh… ‘kay? And he thinks that makes you a good role model because…?” you pressed.
He laughed lightly, and the sound made Stephen look over - relieved. Wanda even smiled, cradling her cup of tea in her palms. Everyone had it rough since the end of the fight against Thanos, but the sound of Peter’s laugh brought it all back to a sense of normality.
“No, I, uh… I used to be a good student. Honestly, I did. So I’m a good role model.” He laughed again. “Just not now.”
“Now is really what counts, Peter,” you said.
“Yeah,” he said. His smile faded and he looked at the floor. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he kicked his shoe against the floor, then met your eyes shyly. “But, uh, when Tony died… I don’t know. I just lost all hope, I guess.”
“You lost all hope?” you asked, frowning.
“He died for me. I didn’t want him to, but he wanted to get me out of that place.” He dropped his head again and looked at his fingers, which shook as he remembered Tony falling on the ground, body jerking as he bled out faster than Peter could get to him. “He was really like my dad,” he whispered.
You blinked. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I… when my dad disappeared, I lost it. Wong said he would come back but I didn’t believe him, because so many people had disappeared before my very eyes. And if he wasn’t home yet… then he wouldn’t be ever, because he would try to get to me as soon as possible.” You swallowed and lowered your voice to a whisper. “I thought I wasn’t going to make it. I know how you feel, Peter-” But then you stopped, because your dad came back. Tony didn’t.
“I’m okay,” he whispered.
You shook your head, raising your eyebrows. “You’re not.”
He stared at you, grinding his teeth a little.
“I’m not either,” you whispered, shrugging. “It’s okay, Peter.”
And suddenly, he didn’t feel so alone. And Stephen bringing him here made sense.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Things will get better.”
You smiled. “Right.
And suddenly, you didn’t feel so alone, either. And your dad bringing you a new friend made sense.
