OFBLCKWRITERS — A Network For Black Writers, Black Readers, & Black People. 

its no money november that's where it's november and i dont have any fucking money

for fanfic writers and readers

as a black girl who loves a lot of different movies and shows, fanfic allows me to read stories that put me in the middle of my favorite things. however, fanfic often (unintentionally) excludes girls who look like me.

i am so sick and tired of reading a fanfiction and having to rewrite it in my brain because a character description immediately implies that the reader is white. if you don't know what i mean, here are some examples.

"your skin turned pink" or "you blushed": black girls and women with darker skin tones CANNOT blush. our skin does not just turn pink

"pulled your hair into a messy bun": my 4a hair cannot be pulled into a messy bun at random. i may be able to do a ponytail if i have braids in, and i might be able to tie it up if I have an old twist-out, but a "messy bun" is often not possible.

"he ran his hands through your hair": yeah...unless my hair is in a silk press (and an OLD silk press), that's not happening

there are a plethora of other examples that would make this post insanely long, so let me get to the point. there are very easy ways to make fanfic a bit more inclusive; all you have to do is tweak a few character descriptions. OR, put in your pairing or warnings that the reader is implied to be white.

and finally: please, please stop tagging your DARK fanfictions "xblack!reader." i am tired of searching for fluff under the black reader tag and finding non-con, dark themes, etc., ESPECIALLY when the fic ends up being for a white reader💀.

the goal of my page is to create a safe space for black girls who love reading fanfiction. i am only one person, so if you'd like to help, here are some ways to do that!

send me fics (preferably marvel and stranger things to start) that are with a black reader

comment some other things in fanfics that imply that the reader is white or that make the fic a little less accessible

REBLOG FICS BY BLACK WRITERS

these pictures of natasha live rent free in my head

the day i see more sam wilson fics w a black oc is the day imma finally live peacefully. same thing w my girl mj too. i barely see ones with her. like im thriving off scraps yall.

ykw fine I'll do it myself. in fact, i'll kill two birds with one stone and write one with sam's kid and have mj as a love interest.

idea: scene with two characters eagerly stripping each other clearly about to bone, but they keep getting interrupted by finding carefully concealed weapons in each other’s clothing, so they keep just unholstering, revealing and unstrapping increasingly ludicrous amounts of hidden guns and knives as the clothes come off, and it’s lowkey killing the mood a little

Have Mercy | natasha romanoff x black!fem!oc

Chapter One: in or out?

pairings: natasha romanoff x fem!black!oc

warnings: none really besides brief mentions of past trauma (barely any details of it tho)

a/n: here we go. this isn't edited yet so if there's any errors im sorry in advance.

have mercy masterlist chapter two

"Absolutely not," Jaslyn cuts her brother off long before he even gets the chance to speak. Turning around, she walks back inside her house towards the kitchen. The sound of the front door echoes through the halls. And heavy footsteps follow behind.

"Oh, come on! You don't even know what I was gonna ask," Sam exclaims. Walking up beside her, Sam brings his hand up to ruffle her hair, knowing how much the action annoyed her. "What if I just wanted to check on my baby sis, huh?"

She hisses. Smacking his hand away before brushing her hair down. "I hate it when you do that shit. And you know if that were the case, you would've hit me up ahead of time, not just pop up at my door unannounced," Jaslyn points out.

"Okay, sure, but–"

"Also, this has been the second time since I got back from Rio with Redwing that this happened."

"Please, Jas," Sam begs. "I need your help with this one."

Jaslyn would do anything for Sam. It didn't matter how much he'd asked of her. She would go through the depths of Hell if he asked her to. Sam would do the same for her. They were the definition of 'ride or die.' Their loyalty to each other has never been doubted. They may not have been fully blood related, but that never mattered to any of them. Jaslyn was just as much as his sister as Sarah was. They were his family.

Still silent, Sam took that as his chance to explain what was going on. "It's Hydra. They're back and have gotten worse. There's this guy; they call him the Winter Soldier." His gaze was disquieting as he spoke.

Her blood runs cold. No. No, no, no.

Sam continues to debrief her, yet Jaslyn could not register another word after that.

Winter never made it out?

She remembers her time in that dreadful place where Hydra claimed to be her new home. The screams. The torture. The constant state of numbness. And constraint of fear and brainwashing snatching you back. Hydra had turned them into fearful creatures. Monsters. She'd gotten out a couple years ago; however, the gushing red of her victims still dripped from her hands. It still tormented her mind just the same. She’s made a lot of progress in the past couple of years.

During her time at Hydra, she met Winter. She never knew what his real name was, neither did he. So, she chose to refer to him as Winter. They supported each other.

Winter never got out.

"Jas...? Jaslyn!" She hums in response. "You're crying," Sam whispers. His eyes are filled with guilt. He told Fury that she wouldn't want any part of this. Hell, Sam didn't want to include her in this either. No matter how much they needed her.

She didn't notice the tears streaming down her face until she felt Sam's thumbs wipe them away. "I'm sorry. I knew I shouldn't have come. I told Fury this was a bad idea to try and rope you back into all this."

She shakes her head as she looks at him with sadden eyes. "It's not your fault, okay?"

"I could have tried harder. I–"

"You did everything you could, Sammy..." With that, the two are silent. Sam takes his sister in his embrace, holding her tight as though she would disappear out of his hold at any second. The two sway for awhile before Jaslyn breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I can't. Not after what happened with–" the rest of her sentence gets caught in her throat. Suddenly she was thirsty. Quickly, she moves from his hold and grabs bottled water out of the refrigerator. She gulps the liquid down in a hectic manner. She doesn't let up until there isn't a drop left. Her gaze is unfocused as she leans against the counter. She was a mess.

"Come on. Let's get you back to your room." Sam gently guides her down the hall toward her bedroom. Going inside, he assists her underneath the sheets and tucks her in. Sam gives her a feathered kiss on the forehead.

"There's leftover lasagna in the fridge if you want some on the way out. Tell your little redheaded friend outside she's welcome to have some, too." Taking this as his time to leave, Sam gives her a sympathetic smile before walking towards the door. "I'll be back to check on you later."

Hearing the faint click of the door locking, Jaslyn cries. "I'm sorry I'm too much of a coward to help you," she whimpers.

anyways dia de los muertos is coming around soon so this is ur reminder that

1. dia de los muertos is not mexican halloween and i will punch you if you call it that

2. dia de los muertos is a very serious holiday and you should not make fun of it

3. dia de los muertos is a very cool holiday and you should appreciate it (a lot of latinos or hispanics would love to talk about it, so ask one of your latino/hispanic friends or ask google!)

4. you should make sure to respect latinos and hispanics during dia de los muertos (october 31-november 2), especially if they're celebrating it

thanks

reblogging is very much appreciated, especially from non-latino/hispanic people

The Stars Write Back

"Love of my life, don't leave me."

— love of my life • queen

pairing: sam wilson x starr viriano (black!oc)

genre: angst

word count: 264

His eyes glossed over with silver tears. Pouring rain seeped against his damp skin and dripped down onto his neck. It was a warm summer night, but Sam had never felt so cold.

It wrapped around his bones and froze his blood into slush in his veins. The absence of someone was more frozen than any weather change. 

He could still see her eyes in his mind—as navy as the starry sky and as devastatingly beautiful as his cracking heart. 

Her last words had been an “I love you.” Spoken through him instead of to him, but he’d taken them for himself anyway. 

A sob tore through his lips at the loneliness of the loss; the sheer tragedy of having a part of himself fade away before he could indeed find the words to express how deeply she could thread herself into his reality. 

Because to anyone else, she was a simple collection of words—a spill of black ink, a vessel to a writer’s fingertips, one last page left turned. But to Sam, at that moment, she was everything.

She was Sam's warmth—the temporary tape to his broken smiles and the laughter filling his sagging lungs. She was the hand that reached into the hole around him, pulling him out quickly without thinking of herself. 

She’d saved Sam from himself and his empty, chaotic mind. And yet, here he was, standing in the rain alone with nothing but a silver chain in his grasp. Because, in the end, he had to love her all alone.

And that was the coldest truth of it all.

happy international women’s day to black women across the afro-diaspora 💗💗💗