Hey all! This wonderful meet the writer art was created by @slasher-art, thank you so much!
I’m a fanfic writer who is mainly in the Marvel fandom at the moment, although I am looking to move into some other fandoms soon! I’m a multi-shipper and a pro-shipper, (the back button exists for a reason folks!)
This blog is mainly used to share snippets of my current fics in progress, although you might find the occasional cute thing, or random trivia about myself wedged in!
write whatever is interesting to you, even if it won’t be interesting to anyone else
appreciate kudos when they come, but don’t expect them
appreciate comments when they come, but don’t expect them
if you wish you could just write that one scene you have in your head, do that. you don’t need to create a 30K backstory for it first.
embrace one shots
embrace drabbles
embrace writing your story out of order
rough drafts are meant to be rough. if you can’t think of a word, put in a placeholder for it and keep going.
try not to get stuck on the little things
it’s okay if your readers can’t see the picture inside of your head
some people work well when they have a posting schedule. some people work well when they don’t. it’s okay if you don’t know which kind of person you are, and it’s okay if the type of person you are changes over time.
if a rule you created for yourself isn’t working for you, get rid of that rule.
make fandom friends. even if they don’t read your fic, they’ll cheer you on while you write it.
cheer on other writers you know. you’ll be cheering yourself at the same time.
no trope or genre is better or worse than another one. they all just appeal to different audiences.
quality and popularity are not the same thing, although they do sometimes overlap
numbers and statistics will never tell you whether or not you’re a good writer. they will never tell you how valuable you are as a person.
you belong in fandom if you want to be there
you’re a writer as soon as you start writing things
writing and posting are two different things. your story is still worth writing, even if you never plan to share it
you don’t need to apologize for what you write or what you post.
don’t worry about taking up too much space. the internet doesn’t have a maximum size.
keep your readers in mind when you’re tagging your content. how could they search for your fic? if you use a tag, will be a reader who loves that tag be satisfied with how much it appears in your story?
if you have a relationship in your fic that plays a minor role, tag it in the Additional Tags section instead of the Relationship section so that people who love that ship don’t get their hopes up
be cautious when looking at bookmarks on your fic. they aren’t “extra comments.” that’s a space where readers make notes for themselves and each other, not for authors.
you don’t need to know everything about canon before you start writing fic
you don’t need to read fic in the same fandoms you write for
you don’t need to read fic at all in order to write it
love your work because sometimes you’re the only one who will - and that’s okay
if your hobby starts feeling like a job, you might need to take a break before you get burnt out
if you get stuck on a story, you can always start a new one
if you fall out of love with a story, you can always stop writing it. if you’re worried about your readers, you can always give them a bullet point summary of where you were planning to go with thing. for a lot of people, that’s satisfying and provides closure
if you get hate, report it
use the tools at your disposal to block hate before it can come in (limiting or turning off comments, limiting or turning off asks, blocking users, etc)
try replying to comments sometimes. it can be a lovely way to make fandom friends
don’t be afraid to reblog your own writing posts.
if you get stuck on your summary, just write 1) who the story is about 2) what they are doing and 3) what problem gets in their way
notice when your writing makes you smile. that moment is a gift. enjoy it.
notice when your writing makes you cry. that moment is a gift, too.
even if you’re disappointed in how your story turned out, there’s something in there that’s fantastic. find that thing and focus on it and feel proud.
some ideas are ones you want to write. some are ones you want to read. if you ever have too many ideas to deal with at once, give some of the latter ones away to someone else.
sometimes the things you write will be really personal. be careful about putting them where other people can comment. they won’t know how personal it is for you, and you need to remember that comments aren’t about you, they’re about the story.
remember that you can write series as well as stories. if the story is done but you still have passion or ideas, start a new one in the same universe.
enjoy the satisfaction of finishing a story. savour it. bask in it a little while.
don’t feel guilty about abandoning a story. not every story gets finished, and that’s okay
you can have separate accounts for different fandoms. you can have one account with a million fandoms in it. do whatever works for you.
sometimes writing is more important than sleep - but only sometimes
it doesn’t matter if that story has been written before by someone else. it doesn’t matter if it was written by you. write it again.
only follow the advice that makes sense to you. the rest isn’t important.
‘Where did you find this…delightful creature again?’
There it was, the muffled squeal of pain as fangs sank into flesh.
Damn it, why couldn’t he behave? Every time, every damn time he brought someone over.
Tony gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, knuckles blanching white. He took a deep breath, holding it until his lungs burned before answering. ‘He was wandering the streets, half-starved. I wasn’t going to leave him there.’
No matter how much he annoyed him by mauling his guests, his cupboards now bare of the crockery that used to adorn them, fatalities of a sadistic mastermind. He couldn’t stay mad at him long.
Half-starved was an understatement, he’d believed the cat to be dead when he found him, limp within a puddle, the neon lights of the city above him bleaching his fur. Covered in wounds, his chest barely moving as he struggled to breathe, Tony had bundled him in his arms, nursing him back to health in his crappy apartment.
He overheard a muffled curse as his date found out how sharp Nox’s claws were. He really was the sweetest creature, sitting on his lap in the evenings, kneading his thigh as they read together, but he hated men.
Tony’s parents were waiting for him to fail, for him to come crawling back, and their silence was a punishment. He was determined to make it on his own though, without the Stark name to help him.
Sometimes, he felt like Nox was the only one who listened to him, those huge, liquid jade eyes watching him as he spoke, the purring bundle in his hands the best barrier against loneliness.
Tony forced a smile to his lips as he grabbed the plate of food he’d assembled for his date. Delights of the sea, the vendor down the street had called it, a culinary delight for the man sat in his tiny studio apartment.
The briny smell was disgusting.
‘His name is rather curious,’ Justin said carefully, eyes widening in delight as he placed the plate of tentacles and other sea creatures in front of him.
It had been Nox he was thinking of when he brought it, not the man he’d met in the local bar sitting across from him. The man who was currently under attack by his protective feline.
‘You didn’t strike me as the sort or person that had money for more than instant noodles.’ He used his hand to gesture at Tony, flinching as Nox leapt for it.
Nox’s bristled fur at the implication matched the mental image Tony had of himself. Forcing his metaphorical hackles to lower, he resisted his sarcastic impulses, opening his crossed arms as Nox climbed into his lap. He was distracted by the way he paced in a small circle for a few moments before he settled into a ball, eyes narrowed in a glare at his guest, the tip of his tail flicking in silent annoyance.
Sometimes he envied how honest cats could be. Would things have been better back home? If Tony had been able to be truthful earlier in his life?
No. His dreams, his aspirations would always be a blight on the Stark family.
He took Nox’s ears gently in his hand, using his thumb to rub over the velvety appendages. ‘After I brought him home, I was looking at him one night and the name came to me.’
That was a slight discolouration of the truth. It had been a few days after bringing him home, days without sleep as he nursed him back to health, the floor of his apartment littered with bloody bandages and tins of tuna. In his delirious, sleep-deprived observation of his new roommate, he’d wondered out loud what to call him, and the name Nox had blazed within his brain, branding on the back of his eyelids.
Nox, night, darkness, nocturnal. and the feline in his lap was a brand of sunlight, a deep, burnished orange.
A complete contrast to his name.
‘How’s the food?’ Tony asked his date, lifting his glass to his lips. He’d never known tentacle suckers could make that squelching noise when chewed, even Nox who loved seafood was wrinkling his pink nose.
‘You know, we don’t have to do this. Pretend this is something more when we both know why I came here.’ Justin’s hand slipped under the table, trailing up the inside of his thigh.
Nox’s purring cut out abruptly, his head lifting to growl at their guest.
‘There wasn’t any ulterior motives.’ There was a bite in Tony’s words as he moved his leg away, Nox looking up at him and blinking his approval.
‘Please, Tony Stark, playboy extraordinaire, of course that’s why I’m here.’
Justin knew who he was then, knew and had made assumptions based on rumours.
‘I think it’s time you were leaving, Justin.’
‘Now, now, don’t play coy with me, you certainly weren’t the other – Ow!’
Justin leapt to his feet, fingers clamped around his forearm where blood was now welling.
‘Disgusting, flea bitten-’
Tony grabbed Justin by the shoulders and shepherded him out the front door, Nox tearing at his heels.
‘Do you want the rest of that?’ he asked him when he returned, proud and puffed up, spitting a scrap of Justin’s pants on the table. Tony had never heard a cat laugh, but the strange chuffing noise vibrating in Nox’s throat came pretty close.
Nox turned his head away, kicking at a slimy tentacle with his back paw. ‘Aren’t you supposed to love fishy things?’
Tony laughed at his impressive glower, the shifting of powerful shoulder blades as he arched in disgust.
‘Yeah, that’s enough of stereotypes for tonight.’
Reaching out, he scratched under his chin, coaxing him into forgiveness, his body slinky and relaxed once more.
‘I think after the night we’ve had, we can break out the good stuff, huh?’
Nox’s ears pricked up, an excited chirp showing how he felt about that. Getting up on his hind legs, he butted his head against Tony’s legs. Kneeling, he stretched his head forward, smiling as Nox bumped his forehead against his.
‘How is it I enjoy spending more time with you than actual people?’ Tony whispered to him.
His family would be horrified that he was keeping a small creature like this as a companion. Tony hadn’t been allowed pets growing up, had always been scorned for asking his parents for one. Nox listened, he was there after work to greet him with a chirp and a hug, banishing his stress with kisses to his furry head.
‘I don’t feel like I need anything else when I’m with you,’ he told him, laughing at his rumbling purr.
Nox was there when the stresses of trying to make it on his own in the huge city wore him down, his stubborn refusal to return home manifesting in frustrated tears and long nights of insomnia.
‘Chicken or pork?’ Tony asked him, kissing the top of his head. ‘I got strips of heart in for you.’
Nox tilted his head in thought before sauntering to the kitchen, tail raised high, waiting expectantly at the fridge.
***
He drifted between the haze of sleep and reality, hand patting across the bed for the furred warmth he usually found when awake. The bed was cold, and he pushed herself up on his elbows, trying to form words as he gazed blearily over the bedroom.
A shard of sunlight had escaped the busted blinds, the tape he’d used peeling away from the corner.
Tomorrow’s problem.
Dragging his blankets over his head to avoid the worst of it, Tony froze at the creature in bed with him.
The very masculine creature that had a thick bushy tail wrapped around his ankle.
Shivering from the cold, he murmured in his sleep, lazy green eyes blinking awake and looking up at him.
Those same vibrant eyes that greeted him in the morning and last thing at night.
‘Nox?’
He was dreaming. Had to be.
‘Ah, I can explain. I should tell you my real name is Loki.’
Stephen gets hit by a spell that makes his aura visible- and with it, his emotions. He tries to hide away to avoid being seen any more than he already has, but Tony is captivated enough by it to follow him home, and Stephen can't bear to turn him away when he's finally more curious about magic than afraid.
Currently working on my other account dedicated for my fanfics (first time writing here yay) I'm facing my fear of posting my works publicly 😭 here's a Dr Strange
That ‘comment on your a03 work’ email hits like a line of cocaine every time. unmatched dopamine increase. shoutout to everyone who leaves a comment on fics. you deserve the world
