Writing Summary for 2021
I tried making a proper introduction for this post, but Iâve failed three times now, so I think Iâll just get right into the post.
This is a summary of things Iâve written over the year of 2021, both from posted works and from drafts that Iâm still working on. Iâm not sure if Iâll be posting any of those drafts anytime soon, but I made some resolutions for 2022, so maybe weâll just have to wait and see.
Making a cut here because this post is gonna be loooong
January
Stephen sighed softly while thinking over his options. Maybe going out for once wouldnât be that bad. If he could forget about his problems for a day they might not be as hard to handle. Then again, his sweet little hay fever wasnât as sweet as he had made it sound like to Tony. Staying home would be the best, and definitely the safest.
âI donât know, Tonyâ he said, taking a sip of his tea. He savored the taste as best he could as it rolled down his esophagus. He licked his lips and clicked his tongue. âDoesnât sound like something for meâ. At best, it was a fleeting lie.
Tony scrunched up his eyebrows to give Stephen an expression of genuine concern, but also a hint of disappointment. âAnd here I thought you were a man of opportunityâ he said.
Which was true. Stephen did like opportunities, and he would usually jump at them. Learning or experiencing something new was always on his list of things to do, and each new day always had another opportunity. Tony had come to know that part of him, and had come with him on many different events and excursions during their time together. Winter in particular was Stephenâs favorite time to hog a few opportunities. It meant he got to wear his favorite coat if the weather was cold enough.
Today, however, was not such a day. This whole week would have none such days. The only opportunities he would take were the ones that had to do with sleeping, resting, meditating, and hopefully getting a massage or two. Stephen made his best âI am absolutely very sick with a high feverâ impression while sighing heavily. âIâm sorry, Tones. You know how it isâ he said and brought his cup of tea back to his mouth. It smelled delightful and tasted even better as he sipped from it with half-lidded eyes.
From The City Fair â ironstrange, prompt fill, established relationship, non-traditional a/b/o, no powers au, mild angst, hurt/comfort
February [nsfw]
âHappy Valentineâsâ Christine giggled with glee, settling back on top of him and grabbing his wrists to pull his hands away from his face. He blinked up at her.
âJesus, Christineâ he mumbled softly, sniggering a bit more as he felt his face heat up another degree. Her sly smirk and expectant expression werenât helping. In fact, it was only making the situation much, much worse.
âOh?â she said, her eyebrows rising curiously.
âThatâs not fair!â he exclaimed, freeing one of his hands to point a finger in her face. Attempting to look stern was however hard when; one, his face was flushed red from embarrassment; two, Christine had been idly waving a dildo a tad too close to his face; and three, he had woken up with a morning wood that had now increased to a full-fledged boner. Which wasnât very easy to hide in the first place, but especially not when she was laying on top of him when he didnât have any clothes on.
Christine giggled with what couldnât have been anything but evil intent. Or at least playful. If it hadnât been him the surprise was for, he would probably have been smirking as well. It was quite a naughty thought, and if he was being honest with himself, doing something naughty once in a while wasnât all that bad.
The surprise was for him though, and the insinuations of what that meant-... Well, what did that mean? She hadnât exactly been clear on what she wanted to use a firm, black, silver spangled strap-on dildo for. He wanted to ask, but almost dreaded the answer. His boner, however, didnât. It quipped happily between his legs.
From A Very Happy Valentineâs Day â palmerstrange, established relationship, valentineâs special, pwp, strap-on
March
Pain ransacked his now vastly smaller body. What had been his hands, but now felt like something else, was pounding relentlessly. It ran like fire through what should have been his arms, into his torso, and then his entire body. He had been through pain, but this hurt. He considered, for only a moment, if perhaps it was supposed to hurt the first time you shifted.
Then he realized that he was falling. The ground was darting towards him, and threatened to ram into him at any second. He had to switch back. Biting through the pain took everything he had. He focused on the magic that was coursing through him. âSwitch back, dammit!â he swore to himself.
He heard footsteps approaching just as, at the last possible moment, he felt his body take its original form. He caught himself before he could fall face-first into the hard rock floor, and pain bit through every nerve in his hands and wrists. Maybe he should have taken the fall after all.
He rolled over to his back, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. He didnât have to look to know that his hands were trembling. They shook and ached worse than they had ever done before, and he didnât have enough force of will to hold back a grunt of pain.
Mordo was at his side within a bare moment. âStrangeâ Stephen heard him speak. He didnât dare respond back. Not only did his body feel like it was burning, but he also felt shame start to build in the forefront of his mind. Something had gone wrong, and he didnât know what. He had failed, and he wasnât ready to look Mordo in the eye knowing that he had. He didnât want to see the disappointment.
Unposted draft â inspired by tumblr, angst, hurt/comfort, canon divergence, magic shenanigans, au elements
April
Stephen wasnât born as Stephen. All those many years ago, he had run away from his childhood home in bottom ass Nebraska and somehow made it to upstate New York. Nevermind his education at Columbia University, but he made quick work of erasing his previous personality completely, together with any record that he had any family at all.
Although, deleted records apparently didnât help his situation of a broken heart. Days and eventually weeks passed after his âincidentâ with Stark, and Stephen became increasingly cold and distant toward his fellow sorcerers. He even started pushing Wong away, spending more and more time in his makeshift office, burrowed in borrowed books from Kamar-Taj. Iâll return them when Iâm done, was all he said before turning a cold shoulder and marching out of the room.
Wong eventually stopped questioning. No more ice cream breaks, no more preparing tea in the morning, and no more how are you:s. Wong stopped trying to establish contact overall. After all, Stephen did what he was supposed and expected to do. He guarded the Earth against interdimensional threats, he helped train new recruits on the rare occasion that they would drop in, and he kept himself educated on the most recent medical, technical and magical news. He didnât need to be reminded or bothered.
Stephen himself, however, noticed himself becoming a dark, gloomy storm cloud, ready to explode at any moment. Maybe he kept his distance for the sake of others, or maybe for himself. Either way, he had no one but his books, and on occasion the Cloak of Levitation. Even when Wong gave up on him, the sentient piece of fabric stayed by his side. Unreadable if it was feeling anything, but still â it was company nonetheless.
Unposted draft â prompt fill, mpreg, canon divergence, pre-infinity war, unrequited love, heavy angst, no comfort
May
âIâve hated you for what you did. For five years, I hated you, and I hated you even when you came back afterwards. I quite frankly despise Stephen Strange for what he did, yesâ
âSo why are you here? To mock me? To make me feel even worse? Iâve already resigned myself, Stark, and you wonât see me again because Iâm done. Iâm staying hereâ
âIâm not here for Strangeâ Tony says, then he pauses, and his eyes flicker to the floor once, before turning back to the beingâs. âIâm here for you, because when I realized I wasnât going completely mad and seeing things, and after everything youâve said and done for me-â
Tony breaks himself off and drops his hands back, turning a bit and bites his lip. Heâs not sure how to say what he wants to say, and heâs not sure if itâs right either. He got married to Pepper, then broke it off because he thought he was cursed. Heâs not sure if he still loves her and wants to get back with her, or if it would be okay to pursue whatever it is that heâs feeling for this shapeless, formless being he has shared a room with for a few weeks.
âTony?â eldritch Stephen asks, because the silence is suffocating all of them by now. Tony looks up at him, and heâs now more human-like than eldritch. His left arm is still missing, and his left side, hip, shoulder, cheek, and part of his hair are completely woozy. The color of his clothes and skin are dulled, and the cloak is melding with him.
Tony doesnât speak, but takes a giant leap of faith by taking a step forward and bringing his arms around not-Stephenâs neck to kiss him. Stephen is stunned speechless, not sure how to react, but when Tony pulls back, he doesnât want him to and forms the other arm to hold him close.
âTony, Iâm-â Stephen starts, but Tony quickly interrupts him by a hush and a hand over his mouth.
âDonât ruin it. You speak, and youâve ruined itâ.
Unposted draft/outline â eldritch horrors, spell gone wrong, canon divergence, slow burn, shenanigans
June
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â Stephen asked, an odd feeling pricking at his chest.
âI just mean that you-â Tony started, but broke himself off. He averted his gaze and started to fumble with the hems of his suit. Stephen knew what he was thinking.
âJust come out with it, itâs not tabooâ. Tony looked up at him again with an uncertain expression. He blinked, and it changed into something softer â something ⌠apologetic?
âYouâre an omega,â he said softly, scoffing as if he didnât believe what came out of his own mouth. Frankly, Stephen didnât want to believe it either. He didnât want to experience it â not like this anyway. âA claimed one at thatâ Tony added, turning his head to supposedly look toward where he was going. Stephen quickly gave up trying to figure out what that was supposed to mean, dropping the topic and starting to turn toward the Sanctum. It was quite a few blocks away, but it was in the opposite direction of the one they had walked for a few minutes now.
âOh, and one last thingâ Tony spoke up, stopping them both in their tracks. He quickly noticed that Stephen had subtly played him, judging by the look of betrayal on his face. âWait, I thought you were going the same way as meâ.
Stephen arched his eyebrows. âYou didnât actually think I was gonna let you see where I live, did you?â. One of those pesky smiles managed to find its way onto his lips again. Tony soon mirrored it with one of his own.
âCute and clever,â the man said, shifting his weight to one foot and visibly biting his lip. Stephen could see that he wanted to say something more, but he was holding it back, either for Stephenâs sake or for his own.
âAnd you better remember that,â Stephen said, firing off a smirk despite not wanting to. It added to the warning he was trying to give. Sure, he might be an omega, but he wasnât about to act like one. Especially not around some other irksome alpha by the likes of Tony Stark.
Unposted draft â ironstrange, a/b/o, slow burn, denial of feelings, âitâs not unrequited theyâre just idiotsâ
July
Stephen leaned back to give Tony a hurt look. âDid you just come here to make fun of me?â he asked, tilting his head slightly and narrowing his eyes.
âI came here to take care of youâ Tony responded, pulling Stephen in close to himself. âItâs 3am and you look like you havenât slept in days. There are bags under your eyes, and youâre covered in cuts and bruisesâ.
âProbably because I havenâtâ Stephen mumbled for a response, dipping his chin and burrowing his nose into Tonyâs wet hair. He sighed, thumbs trailing little circles over Tonyâs skin. âCanât remember the last time I had a full eight hours of sleepâ.
âWell, we better change that thenâ Tony spoke, smiling softly and digging his fingers into Stephenâs hair, caressing his scalp with the tips of his fingers. A soft grunt left the man, and he visibly relaxed into Tonyâs arms. âCome on, turn around and Iâll soap your backâ.
âTony-â
âNu-uh, turn aroundâ. When Stephen didnât listen, Tony moved his hands to twist the wizard around where he stood. He made quick work of dousing his hands and one of the loofas in the soft lavender-smelling soap, then moved to give his impromptu lover a well earned back massage. âSince you apparently canât take care of yourself, I have to do it for youâ he said, pressing his lips against Stephenâs shoulder. The magician didnât respond, but exhaled a deep breath and hung his head. Tony continued to move his hands along Stephenâs back, then wrapped them around his waist to pull him into a hug.
From Will my Aching Wounds Never Heal? â ironstrange, technically post-endgame, mild angst, hurt/comfort
August
Nothing was written on this month :(
September
Stephen watched as he slowly floated, tiny blobs and colors assembling around his form. One had attached itself to his fingers, and was slowly spreading across his palm. He had seen many shapes that werenât shapes in his countless visits and journeys through this plane, but the type at his hand was of the more peculiar ones. It seemed sentient â in some morbidly primal way. He had encountered its kind not more than three times before, and each was just as memorable.
He carefully moved his hand in front of his face to inspect it more closely. It wiggled peacefully as it flattened out to cover more of his palm. Had he still been able to sense more touch than the vague knowledge of proximity, he assumed that it would feel soft. Maybe a well-wanted aid for his constantly aching hands. While in this plane, his scarring wasnât visible, and his hands were completely still, void of any distant trembles or heavy shakes. The bodily nerve damage was but a memory â one that he so wished he could forget and pretend like it never existed. In this moment, while floating aimlessly among the colors he now knew so well, he could allow himself to forget. Until he decided to go back into his body, time itself would wait.
Stephen brought his other hand in front of him to join the first, and he nudged at the colorful warble in his palm. It reacted to his touch, fizzling gently â like an egg frying softly in a heating pan. It contracted into a tight ball before reaching for the middle finger on his other hand. It brought a gentle smile to his lips. Such a peculiar thing â otherworldly and unfamiliar â and yet so brilliantly calming. It was a rarity both in this world and the next.
Stephen could reflect over the fact that he was currently hovering upside-down a few inches from his bedside, but such matters were exactly as irrelevant as the flow of time. It made no difference which way he was facing, or if he was sitting or lying down. Gravity had no impact on his current form unless he inched closer to the earthly plane enough that it would affect him. Objects such as doors or walls were an inconvenience, at most.
From Shapes, Colors, and Creatures â astral projection, nonsense, drabble, magic shenanigans, plotless
October
Nothing was written on this month either :(
November
His body collided with a cold, hard floor, and he called out as his back and shoulders was whipped with pain. It reminded him of the last time he had been here. He knew where he was. Really, there was nowhere else he could be. He had been sent through time by none other than himself, because ⌠he was bored? Was that it? Stephen wasnât sure why the other had spared him the first time. Maybe now he would actually have a chance to ask.
He slowly rolled over to his side, then to his stomach, coughing as he caught his breath which had been pushed out of him when he landed. He got up on hands and knees, then sat up on his haunches to look around himself. Much like last time, there was a circle of glowing red runes on the floor. He could only assume that it was a barrier that would react violently if he were to approach it. Better not risk it, right? He knew enough about magic by now to know when to keep away.
âSorry, should I have warned you about the landing?â came a voice from somewhere in the darkness that surrounded him. Stephen felt his skin itch on his cheek where he had been tainted by whatever that had been those months ago. He preferred not to think about what any of it had been. It made him want to stick his head into a toilet bowl and barf out his insides.
âSarcasm was never your strong suitâ Stephen responded while pushing himself to his feet, still a bit winded from the fall. He heard a brief laugh echo around him at that.
âYou forget the most important detail, doctorâ the voice responded, now less disembodied, as Stephen could hear what direction it was coming from. He turned to face the looming shadows, narrowing his eyes to try and see better. At best, he could discern a silhouette, but he almost assumed that it was no more than happy delusions that his brain made up to keep himself sane.
Unposted draft â sequel to Howâs That For Marbles?
December
When the sun was getting closer to disappearing below the horizon, they were sitting next to each other in the grass. Supreme was holding a flower that Strange had given him, and Strange had an arm around his waist. âThis is to live forâ he said eventually, breaking Supreme out of what thoughts he might have had at that moment. He sighed softly and elected to lean against his counterpartâs side.
âI donât belong hereâ he mumbled, picking one of the petals from the flower and letting it get taken by the soft wind that still blew. He sighed and pulled off another petal, watching it disappear in the distance. It felt almost comical how he was able to see a parallel between himself and flower petals that got whisked away by the wind. He had been content with the life he thought he had in his own dimension. Just him and his beings, for so many centuries, then the other Strange had pulled him out into another world, and he no longer felt as content with what he thought he had. All of a sudden, he missed what life could be like if he hadnât made the terrible mistakes that he did.
âDo you want to go back?â Strange asked, and Supreme felt his gaze on him. He exhaled a sigh through his nose as he watched another petal get swept up from between his fingers.
âNoâ. He didnât want to go back, but did he have any other choice? What if the Watcher came back to find his dimension empty? Granted, it had been a long time since heâd seen that mystical being now, but the concern still lingered. He knew that he had been left in there as a punishment, and he didnât consider himself worthy to skip out on that punishment. It was what he deserved. âBut I canât stayâ he said, tossing the flower into the grass in front of him.
âOkayâ the other said slowly. Supreme could hear the hesitance in his voice. He wasnât sure if he should say anything more, or if he should just go back to his own lonely universe. He did neither. Strange seemed to appreciate it, as he held Supreme a bit tighter to himself.
From Belonging â gift fic, selfcest, body horror, angst, hurt/comfort, pwp, shenanigans, wibbly wobbly
I sincerely hope that 2021 wasnât too hard on you. It was rough, but you made it through, and you should be proud of yourself! Pat yourself in the back!
With that said, hereâs to a new year filled with even more exciting and fulfilling writing! *clinks glasses*














