when i want fluff/angst fics and all iโm getting is smut
the struggle is real
Ao3 writers are the strongest Avengers
I wanna make a full 5 star course meal for the transmasc/trans men x reader writers who actually make normal shit but the reader is trans writing I search this app daily for a drop of that content its a desert in here damn near but the looking is worth it when I find a fanfic with attention and care to transmasc/trans men readers ๐ซถ๐ฝ
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Relationship: Asexual!Abed Nadir x Asexual!gn!reader (romantic)
Summary: Neither Abed nor you (his partner) show a lot of affection to one another, and both of you are okay with it. However, when he starts to feel insecure about your relationship following a comment from Pierce, Abed starts to act weird, though itโs different toย โAbed weirdโ. When you ask him about it, he asks you one question:ย โAre you happy with me?โ
Warnings: Very mild angst, acephobia and sickly sweet fluff to end it! (Let me know if I need to add any)
Word count: 1.9k
(A/N: As an asexual, I really hate reading fics that go from fluffy to smutty within the span of a paragraph, though Iโm glad that so many people can derive entertainment, comfort and/or joy from those kinds of fics. However, thereโs always a lack of fanfiction in which the reader is/can be interpreted as asexual, which can usually feel really frustrating and a little alienating. So, I decided to write this one-shot, in which an asexual Abed and an asexual reader are in a perfectly happy relationship. If youโre unfamiliar with asexuality, please educate yourself on it. Compared to other orientations, asexuality is severely overlooked.ย Anyway, I think Abed is a character who could be interpreted as asexual, but itโs cool if you donโt think he is. Iโm not entirely sure what sexuality I interpret him to be, though, for the sake of this one-shot, heโs asexual. Without further ado, on with the fic.)
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I think Iโve officially outgrown tumblr fanfics, itโs hard to find decent new stuff that isnโt just another smau full of poorly written characters that are nothing like their original personalities. For fandoms like Jujutsu Kaisen all the men are written like Toji=mean+horny, Sukuna=mean+less horny, Gojo=teasing+horny with little to any more depth. Or like Tokyo Revengers where most of the guys are given the same personality depending on if theyโre categorized as ๏ฟผconfident or quiet. Then they make all dom-leaning characters talk with a forced accent that they definitely do not have, sometimes itโs a blaccent other times itโs a lot of โgiโmeโ instead of give me or โyaโ instead of you. Its gotten to a point where they straight up just wonโt say full words and I cannot describe the visceral ick it gives me lol. ๏ฟผDonโt get me wrong Iโve been able to find good stuff on here before and I donโt doubt that there are good writers in these fandoms, itโs just getting harder to come by. I stopped using Wattpad for similar poor writing and itโs sad to see it happening here now.
Edit: I donโt plan on replying to the ppl reblogging this bc most of them are not approaching the conversation with the same level of maturity as I have.
If you think that having a blank blog means that youโre not able to give criticism as a reader then youโre just wrong idk what to tell you. Thatโs the reality that comes with writing and posting your work, that by no means justifies stuff like harassment or bullying, but thatโs clearly not what Iโve done. Sorry if you took my opinions personally bc you have a ๐certain๐ taste in fanfic and smut tho lol
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.