Ao3 Writers Are The Strongest Avengers

I’M TIRED OF SMUT, I WANT TOOTH ACHING FLUFF AND HEART SHATTERING ANGST.

i love the concept of black readers. i love black ocs in fanfiction. i love that there's just some mini spaces for black fans. too much anti-blackness, white-centering, white favorism and lack of care for black fans in fanfiction and fandoms. there's always so little of xblk!readers or blk ocs but i'm so comforted by the fact that there is some readers, ocs, and people i can relate too.

i love that there's so much more people than i thought that don't just relate to me when it comes to culture, but relates to me when it comes to the awareness of fandom and fanfiction anti-black issues.

which is why its always sad bae hours when you realize there's no xblk!reader fics in your fandom, no fics with any black!ocs in your fandom, no black!reader various-fandom collections with your fandom in it, or even barely any black writers in your fandom.

and even when you're the people doing pumping out content for black readers and/or make safe spaces for black fans, it can get so lonely knowing you're one of the only ones.

if that's what happen to you; i hear you loud and clear hun. currently going through that as well. just know there's other black fans that relate to you. the struggles are real but you'll get through it, maybe, eventually. and even if you don't, its okay.

Shout out to all the black fans with no reader fics you'll relate to.

Shout out to all the black fans that keep pushing through the anti-blackness and lack of care for them in the fandom.

Shout out to all the black fans that write xblackreader fics or black oc fics nobody else in your fandom ever does.

Shout out to all the black fans that have no space for other black fans in their fandom.

Shout out to all the black writers or fans that gave up in looking for content for them to relate to, or gave up in creating black!oc or black!reader fanfiction for the sake of themselves and/or others can relate to; you've done well, you deserve as much credit as black fans that currently contribute to black representation in fandoms. you didn't give up, you were tired. and that's okay.

Shout out to all the black fans that moved to another fandom because of the lack of black spaces, black fans or black writers. It's always so tiring and disappointing knowing your old fandom have none of what your new fandom has; but at least in your new fandom you may feel more appreciated and accepted.

black fans and writers deserve to be respected and appreciated.

i had an epiphany

Ok I feel like we don’t really get into what sex-repulsion can look like when discussing aspec experiences.

For a long time I thought sex-repulsed was the stereotypical “ew sex is gross” stuff that gets perpetuated. For years I struggled. I called myself sex-favorable because I was all for being sex positive, offering comprehensive sex ed, discussing sex, viewing erotica, etc. At this time I got into relationships with allo people and there were intense feelings gnawing out. I didn’t mind talking about sex as a concept or between other people but the minute I was placed in a sexual context I would get the ick.

It took me so long to realize that this was sex repulsion, because I thought it needed to be grandiose and intense. I still feel weird identifying myself as sex-repulsed because I don’t want people to assume I was against sexual freedom. I feel like we need to do more to challenge the notion that being sex repulsed is inherently anti-sex and let know people know that’s being sex repulsed isn’t a shameful thing, it’s just a piece of you.

When a fanfic has good writing, 10k words a chapter, slowburn and an author who is active

˗ˏˋINKINFLUX’S MASTERLISTˎˊ˗ * = smut      + = multi-part series

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𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐖𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰

𝗦𝘂𝗻!𝗚𝗼𝗱𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘅 𝗣𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘀𝘀!𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

To love a God, is to love your demise, knowing that every waking second you were getting closer and closer to your fated death. Loving a God is more akin to loving something you cannot see, that you cannot touch, or hear. Though you feel her hands trail down your sides, fingers blazing warm and ever so mild, you cannot hold them with your own. Your fingers cannot intertwin with hers, nor can you press a kiss on her lips, basking in her warmth.

Her love is that of a mystery, something you cannot comprehend, something you'll never reach in your lifetime. You can only dream as you stare lovingly into the sun, watching her rays shine down on the Earth. Her mere existence is so much more than yours, but you cannot stop yourself from falling into her grasp, letting her hands guide you her way.

The appearance of a God is far too much for a mortal to accept, to acknowledge, and to live with, so the most of Gods deemed a mortal form, using it as a disguise. Though you haven't met many Gods, you knew they could not compare. Her eyes were oh-so blue, pupils reflecting that of the clouds and birds that fly through the sky, swirlings of different hues as the day disappears. Her skin radiates warmth, so tan, and so smooth. There are no gashes or blemishes, utterly perfect and divine. And her hair is curly, reflecting that of rays, a loose pattern that flows down her back. The golden gleam of the curls is enough to make you want to reach out to hold, to touch, and to braid.

You want nothing more than to hold her, love her, and cherish her. Forehead pressed against the ground as you bow to her, feeling nothing but content in her presence. Let alone the fact that she's come to meet you, you, you.

Though you want to, you refuse to meet her gaze, waiting for her becking call, her soft words to urge you to look up. And you almost jump for joy at the sound, sighing at the brief melody and soft symphony that flows through your mind as she speaks.

Her lips look so soft, you noted, letting your eyes trail across her form. Utter devotion and dedication in your eyes as you slowly rise, per her command. Your tunic white and embellished with symbols of that of the Sun God, flowing down your body, mirroring the tunic she wore. You felt just a little closer to her, peering at the similarities of your clothing, a soft smile gracing your lips.

You call to her, eyes begging for any kind of command. You'd do anything for her, for her touch, and praise. Gulping as you take a step forward, feeling your knees quake and tremble, feeling the presence of a God. The gentle thumping against your ribcage has your head feeling fuzzy and cheeks flushing, growing warm at the closeness.

A sigh left your lips, the feeling of her warm palm pressed to your cheek, and you swear a tear rolled down your cheek as she pressed her lips against your forehead. Closing your eyes, you accepted her kindness with a smile, placing a hand on top of her, letting her soft hands caress your cheeks.

You knew your fate was sealed the moment you pressed your lips against hers, moving in a rhythm that only you and her could hear, relishing in each other's arms. Her hands caressed you as you cried, worshiping her body as if she were gold.

The thought of parting was a constant nightmare that nawed and chewed in the back of your mind, scratching your sides, and whispering in your ear. You knew your time was coming, far closer than before, but you knew that you'd die happy with her arms in yours.