While art is subjective, your hate for Stephen Vincent Strange was pure and simple. An arrogant, crude and tasteless man. One of close-minded thinking and a lack of creativity.
This was the type of person any artist like you would despise.
~~~
All...
There was nothing unique about today. For most, it was just another Tuesday for those who roamed New York; people were heading to work or stopping by the local coffee shop for a fix-up.
Not for Stephen.
When he woke up, he dreaded having someone bring up the date. Most would enjoy it. Most spent the entire month dedicating it to themselves. Yes, birthdays.
His arms stretch out, slowly flipping over to bury his face into the pillows. Getting this day over with as fast as possible would be the best. Knowing Wong, that wouldn't be an option.
He adjusts the drawstring of his sweatpants, walking through his room towards the mirror, "Happy birthday," is all he mutters, unaware of why it's such an important day. Thousands of babies are born daily, yet they think the day belongs to them. It was silly.
~~~
By midday, you were stopping by 177A with a tray of coffee cups, one for you, one for Wong and one for Stephen. You'd been going to the sanctum to hang around for a while now; ever since the little incident, it felt like sneaking around in your teen years. Soon, your excuses started to waiver, unable to convince Wong for much longer.
"Hey, brought you something," it was held up, "mind letting me check out those old magic art books?"
"Again?" Wong takes it from you with a slight smile.
"There was something I missed... which could have been avoided if you would let me take the books back," you glance around, from the top of the grand stairs to the lounge room to the side. "Where's magic-man?"
"Avoiding me at all costs," he leads you to the library as usual.
"What did you do this time?"
He huffs, shaking his head, "No, it's Stephen's birthday, and he dislikes- heavily dislikes any celebration of it,"
You stop, looking at him in disbelief; it took a moment to process this. "It's... his birthday?" All those times you had been around him the past month, and yet not one mention.
"Don't feel bad, Y/n. Stephen is a man of many mysteries, including the mystery of refusing a free chocolate cake," he sits down in his little armchair, sipping happily. "What are you scheming?"
His words made your head snap back to him, "Hm? Oh... yeah, nothing, just thinking," silence passed for a moment before you asked a very odd question, "What are the rules about pets here?"
~~~
"You have no idea how much this means to me, Loki," you wrap both arms around him.
"Anything for one of my favourites," he gives you a slight squeeze, "you sure you wouldn't want something a little more-"
"I'm sure," you fix his hair and pat his cheek. "You staying for long?"
"Why? You miss me that much?" his head tilts smugly, arms crossed.
"Don't." A finger poked warningly against his chest, "me calling for your help fed enough of your ego; don't let it get to your head,"
"What else will I do with it then?" He then turns to Thor, who exits the elevator. "Brother,"
"Is all well?" He directs more to you, hoping his younger brother hasn't caused any chaos.
"Perfect, even," you pat both gods on the back, "now go do your god stuff; I can't babysit you both all day!"
~~~
Within the currently silent sanctum foyer, a collection of orange sparks formed a portal while a not-so-happy sorcerer exits. "So much for an easy task," green slime dropped off Stephen's shoulders, piling on the freshly polished floors. "Dammit," he lifts his boots away, shaking it a little while Cloaky tried to wipe some off his collar. "We'll get you cleaned up, don't worry,"
"Been busy?" You peek into the foyer with a grimace.
"Y/n?" He was a little embarrassed at his state, trying to wipe more off before realising he could use magic to sort this out. "What are you doing here?"
"I came by this morning with coffee, but someone was escaping Wong," that knowing tone told him all he needed to know, "listen, if you don't want to talk about why you don't like your birthday, then it's fine! At least accept the present I got you," you took one hand, tugging it hopefully.
"You... got me a present?" He looks down at your hands and then at those glimmering eyes.
"Yup! I thought it was perfect- and listen, if you don't think you're ready, then it's fine, I'll understand," your words stayed vague throughout the entire conversation, which made his nerves pluck harsher against each possible scenario.
"What did you do?" He says in a low and quiet voice.
"Nothing bad!" You pat his shoulders before running to the other room taking out a large box. "Please don't freak out," you say pleadingly.
"Depends what you did," once the box was settled in front of him, nothing could have prepared him for what was next. When the lid lifted, a force pushed out the box, knocking him down.
"Oh, thank goodness! It was so dark in there!" A bloodhound made of nothing but a blue aura sat on Stephen's chest, panting happily.
"What the-?" Stephen was at a loss for words. He didn't know what to do physically other than stay down and shocked.
"Bats, come on, bud, give him time to adjust," you call the hound back, kneeling down and petting him. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine!" Bats shrug off the worry before realising it was aimed at Stephen.
"I- wow, okay," he sits up, not knowing how to react. "You got me a dog- a ghost dog?"
"Don't sound too upset," Bats sits down, eventually slumping on his belly. "I can talk too, which immediately makes me better than every other dog,"
"He's got an ego like you, too," you joke, shuffling over to him, "are you upset?"
He took a moment to process your question, snapping his head to you with furrowed brows. "Upset? Why would I be upset??"
"I don't know... you didn't get to choose him, I didn't discuss it with you and kinda just-" You were pulled in for a deep kiss, which had you falling head over heels figuratively.
"I'm not upset," he whispers.
"Ew, can you two get a room?" Bats walks off to explore the building, "do I get my own room? Or castle? How about my own potty room?"
"How about some newspaper and a pillow?" Stephen stands up with your hand in his.
"Oh..." Bats' face fell as if he had just betrayed.
"I'm kidding, boy. C'mere!" He kneels down, laughing when the dog comes rushing into his arms, "who's a good boy? Huh?"
"I am!" Bats say happily, falling on his back and wriggling around at the tickles. "This is delightful!"
~~~
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