#please tumblr users who know a lot of fat characters. do you know any fat characters who are the diametric opposite of the fat is lazy trop

[sunkern-plus]

i must say i'm far more represented by the "fat person who is so hyperactive, manic, and talkative that they'd benefit from mood stabilizers and stimulants" stereotype i hear some people mythically talk about. where are these other fat characters like me. show me the light

[mrsblackruby]

Hey👋🏿 hope you’re having a nice day 😊

Sorry for cross tagging but the harassment is getting out of hand. Okay I’m a Billy Hargrove fan willing to make a cross tag post [which turned into a 5 part series ] discussing how to treat and respect fans in the strangers things community. I’m hoping to showcase behavior we shouldn’t engage in when we see someone who likes a character who we dislike. I’m also hoping to start a respectful discussion to help anyone on tumblr who doesn’t understand Billy fans but wants to understand them.Let’s hope this doesn’t become overwhelming 😳

I’m open to fair criticism. Let me know if you interpret a post differently than me if you want. Please let me know your opinions if you have them.

Don’t worry I also want to be respectful to those who don’t like Billy because you have ur reasons to not like his character and connect to fiction however you want to connect to fiction. I want to make things clear I’m not trying to make a moral condemnation of anyone who has engaged in the behavior I critic in this post. There are much bigger problems in the world but I’m so passionate about this one because I’m a person of color who connects to Billy’s story arc and the way some antis treat Billy fans is just cruel. Billy fans are real people who exist and their stories have real life consequences. Online harassment in fandom is not excusable because it is still harassment.

This post is long as FUCK and will have different parts but even tho it’s long I find the conversation to still be interesting so keep that in mind if you read I’ll try to reblog it and pinned it on my blog for ease. There’s a lot to discuss and this conversation should be dealt with care. I will also have the different parts linked at the end of each post. ( I’m also a stupid teenager pls be kind)

I worked so hard on this.

Please share this if you want because I believe our fandom can combat the environment of harassment online we see. Nobody deserve this type of treatment for hyper-fixating on a fictional character that gives them comfort!

Tw for all parts// harassment, racism, discussion of abuse, and abuse apologia, death threats, spoilers for strangers things season 1-3

Tw for this part// harassment, racism, fictional suicide mentioned

I have taken screenshots to reference and prove the behavior I critic but I have gotten rid of all identifying content as to avoid further harassment. Please don’t go out looking to harass anyone. Let me know if I need to add any warnings. this is a somewhat serious, heavy, and layered discussion. We are talking about how humans connect to fiction here so it’s bound to be complex.

[important Note for entire series] All these posts are recent by the way just to show case the harassment is still and ongoing issue even tho Billy has been “ dead” for quite a while now. He might have killed him self but Billy is still my rat man. let me love 😍him.

The Harassment of Billy Hargrove Fans #1

“Okay let’s get started”

Assumptions and cruel judgments of Billy fans

In this Twitter post someone makes the assertion that being a Billy Hargrove fan is a red flag. I’m aware that this is not a tumblr user but I have seen some of this sentiment on tumblr. I will begin by criticizing this post because someone being a fan of a fictional character doesn’t make them and inherent threat to anybody’s personhood. I get that the person who posted this may even agree with what I just argued, that Billy fans aren’t a real life threat, but that’s not what is being communicated at all when someone reads this especially when a fan of Billy reads this. And if someone out there does believe this for one reason or another I’m going to continue to dispute your claim. Some Billy fans might engage in problematic behavior but to hold a layer of apprehension towards all fans of a character because of this might be something you need to reevaluate. Making a moral judgment on real human beings because they like a character is not okay especially if you don’t even know the reasoning.

Just because someone likes a character that might be a mass murderer in fiction doesn’t mean that now they support massacres, correct? Same logic applies here if someone does interpret Billy as racist but still likes his character that does not mean they think racism in the real world is okay ( or bullying, harassment, or anti feminism either) and that does not mean they can’t organize against real world problems effectively.

This is a crude assumption

First things first not every who likes Billy ships Harringrove

As a Harringrove shipper I can only speak for myself and say I could give less of a fuck if Billy is “good” or “bad”. That’s doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to smash king Steve. That’s also doesn’t mean he can’t be queer and it doesn’t mean I can’t like the ship. And it doesn’t mean that I can’t connect to Billy on a disastrously queer level ( got that phrasing from a grade A post on this hell site)

Believing Billy can see the errors in his ways and can heal and become a “good” person… doesn’t have to be a byproduct of being a shipper. it can just be a read someone has of a character so “anon” no disrespect to ya but your thinking is wrong.

Okay this is gonna be lengthy

Fine some Billy fans ignore the shit he did… but that’s not inherently bad. Fans can headcannon Billy into a completely different portrayal than what we see on screen and love him I don’t see a problem with that especially when they aren’t excusing any abuse.

The Duffers brothers failed at exploring racism in their show if that was their intention. Point blank period since this is a form of art it can be interpreted in many different perspectives. Especially if it is not tied to any explicit themes on racism in the text. I interpret Billy’s actions as racist but no one has to do so if they connect to the story in a different manner. I felt the weight of Billy’s “ certain type of people” comment. However it was only and implication not a confirmation. Stop being mad at people for not interpreting something left up to interpretation.The writers didn’t explicitly tackle the issue they wanted to tackle.

This might be helpful 2 know …I interpret Billy as racist, I’m also black, I also Stan Billy Hargrove.

Okay here we go… no-one has to interpret Billy’s actions as being racist so why assume that if someone likes Billy it’s because they’re racist just like him… if they don’t even think he’s racist. I hope that makes sense

I think Billy is racist 4 sure the story flows better for me that way and it makes a lot of sense to me. Now let’s talk about racism in the real world … racism is something that is taught. Racism is a big large system we are all conditioned into. Racism is something we must all unlearn in the real world. So in the fictional world I think there is an entertaining plot line that Billy can go down and unlearn his racism +stop beating up on children Billy 🤦🏿‍♀️. Because I see that potential growth that is why I like his character. Oh and no one ever talks about this but I head cannon Billy as fat phobic because of the “lard- ass” comment so my version of Billy is working through that as well.

I don’t wanna sound all high and mighty I can understand why someone might express this sentiment. I’m not gonna demonize someone who is black like me (black people have dealt with that enough). I also get why you would not even like Billy if you interpret him as racist. [Someone could have the same analysis of Billy as me and still not like him because how we connect to fiction is somewhat irrational.] I would just ask that we don’t jump to conclusions about anyone’s politics because of how they like a fictional character. That we treat other members in our fandom with respect.

I can never and will never excuse racism because if I do I would be turning a blind eye on a system that kills my loved ones. Your allowed to not like Billy Hargrove honestly I don’t see any Billy fans who care? Stop making crude assumptions about people who do Stan Billy Hargrove ur “ joke” is a hurtful misrepresentation.

Lol like #notallbillyfans am I right guys 👉🏿

*crickets sounds and booing*

okay sorry let’s move on…

The problem I hope i highlighted is that you can not make inherent claims to thy morals of a human being because they like a fictional character.😂

Stand alone post: Me reading to much into the politics of Billy Hargrove/ Harringrove

THE 5 PART SERIES ON HARASSMENT:

#2 #3 #4 #5

[spikebhm]

✨🐝🌸🎂?

Hello snowysand!!!

✨- which fictional character (book, show, or movie) do you relate to most?

I answered this one before BUT as always, I can elaborate on it or find something else I could add!

Instead of answering it myself, I can talk about how a lot of people in my circle of friends have attributed me with a certain hero from a comic series that I had the pleasure to read and watch and that hero would be none other the the patriot himself, Captain America!

I am often times the person people ask about on what to do, what to organize and what to prep if we are about to do anything so I like to take that kind of responbility on me because I have always been capable of keeping a level head in all situations and be prepared for anything. My group will often tease me for having a better packed rucksack then Batman's utility belt.

But I am also someone who is fighting with his morales as what I feel is a very strong morale anchor or compass who wants justice for all and so I will always stay on the side lines and carefully watch till I make a judgement call about anything that is going down like when Captain America knows that he is fighting for his country but not to the extent that he follows every command blindly.

So my abilities in calling to action is something that I relate to strongly as well as his ability to see things how they are outside of the box as well as having a strong morale compass!!

🐝- describe your aesthetic in emojis

Oh that one is easy.

and most of the time:

Yeah, that's my aesthetic I think. Nailed it. (also those are discord emojis lol, the second one is a custom one for Nitro users or server owners)

🌸- what is your favorite flower?

I think that is a cop out but I like orchids because they are so easy to keep around but smell terrific! Not much of a flower person tho!

🎂- if you had 3 wishes, what would they be?

Oooh ... ok we all know what we would all wish for, more wishes, yadda yadda but I will have maybe three wishes that are manageable to have them fulfilled in my time of living and not with too much effort! (ok, some effort of course but still)

I want to move overseas!

I want to meet all kinds of folks I have managed to befriend from tumblr!

I want to work on a relationship with someone lucky and grow happy and fat together!

I think those three are super manageable!

Bonus wish! I want to find more success with my work that I do on the sides by publishing more of my work!

Also please don't ask me what work, this is super private I will not spill the beans *for anyone* if we are not already mutuals who have worked on this or any of my other projects~!

Thank you so much for your questions!!!!

[tadmean-aa]

YEP, HERE WE ARE FOLKS

   so. this is a post i didn’t want to write, but here we are. if you’ve followed me for a while you know i don’t like drama / public discourse, but i genuinely have no other choice. i’ve tried to handle this privately to no avail. and while i’d appreciate the word being spread about this person, you’re welcome to block this post or blacklist the tags. i’m not here to tell you who to interact with or start a fight. i’m not here to discouse this or argue. the facts are the facts, and the facts are that this user has stolen from me repeatedly, even after being asked to stop, and has taken credit for intellectual property and an interpretation largely inspired by coping with trauma. massive drama under the cut. sorry folks. i’ve tagged it as ‘long post //’ as well for mobile users. 

     tl;dr? @cvffeinequeen (whats good?) ripped me off majorly. it’s driving me nuts. tw for ic abuse mention.

  on one hand, i thought about not writing this because it’s literally just tumblr roleplay. on the other, writing coco this way, this very specific way, has been a way to cope with my own similar struggles, and the last straw was seeing this person getting credit for their “creativity”, aka the things they blatantly ripped from me. to see someone being praised by unknowing people for taking a story that i crafted from my own hurt, a story that they’ve gutted and repurposed so they can roleplay with it instead of coming up with something of their own, was the absolute final straw. not to mention that if they’ve stolen from me and gotten away with it, it’s not unlikely they’ve taken from other sources as well. maybe someone else will come forward, idk.

   if any of the screenshots or links below are not conclusive enough, feel free to come to me and i will try to get you better ones / answer your questions. this is a long post, but i’m not about to call someone out for the first (and hopefully last) time without bringing some hard ass motherfuckin proof. my old blog (tadmean.tumblr.com, or tadmean-a.tumblr.com if the first doesn't work) is available multiple times on the wayback machine if you need to check some of these for yourself.

    for context, i found this user in the coco adel tag through an edit. i always like to see duplicates (it gets lonely being the only coco), so i clicked the url to see what their blog was like and maybe follow if they were cool with that. immediately, something stank. on closer inspection, i realized their bio was ripped directly from mine and reworded—examples below. bear in mind that they have changed their blog background color since then, which is why some of the caps dont match the current blog; it used to be this shade of red (?), now it’s a brownish pinkish color. the bio has also since changed, but i’ve included the three different versions. i sent these screenshots to a close friend the night i found this blog, as well as to another friend a couple days later / a week maybe? so that’s why some of these are discord screenshots.

BIO POSTS: ( pt 1 ) ( pt 2 ) ( pt 3 ) ( pt 4 ) ( pt 5 ) ( pt 6 ) ( pt 7 ) ( pt 8 ) ( pt 9 ) ( pt 10 ) ( pt 11 )

screenshots in hand, i instant messaged them and let them know i saw what they were doing. screenshots below:

DM CONVO: ( pt 1 ) ( pt 2 ) ( pt 3 ) ( pt 4 ) ( pt 5 ) ( pt 6 ) ( pt 7 ) ( pt 8 )

NEW BIO AT THE TIME: ( pt 1 ) ( pt 2 ) ( pt 3 ) ( pt 4 ) ( pt 5 ) ( pt 6 ) ( pt 7 ) ( pt 8 ) ( pt 9 )

BIO AS OF NOW ( 11 / 29 / 18 ): ( PT 1 ) ( PT 2 ) ( PT 3 ) ( PT 4 ) ( pt 5 ) ( pt 6 ) ( pt 7 ) ( pt 8 ) ( pt 9 )

      past this, we just agreed to be mutuals and that, i thought, was the end of it. sure, the bio wasn’t all that changed, but they’d seemed to realize the error of their ways and i was naively optimistic.

   from here, it temporarily got better. then got way worse. whether it was formatting ( x, x ) ( x, x ), ( x, x ) the names of tags ( x, x ), ( x, x ), personalized tags ( x, x ), musings posts ( x, x ) ( x, x ) (these being just a few), etc. this user has mimicked my blog to a T. but this is all just context. the thing that i’m here to talk about, however, are headcanons. i started writing coco as a way to cope with my own trauma/abuse & personality disorders; it started from the thought that if a strong character like coco can manage it all, then so can i. and it’s not like we have a whole lot of canon content for coco that might lead people to the same conclusion about her life—coco is a character that has maybe? 30 mins to an hour (being very generous) of overall content? the things i’ve written about coco is not stuff you can conclude from her canon material. period. she’s essentially an oc based on five seconds of material. if you have any doubts, remember that: coco has essentially no canon content or backstory. almost everything on my blog is a headcanon. that said:

LIST OF A FEW STOLEN HEADCANONS:

stole coco’s troubled home life as an heiress ( x ) and how she runs away later in v4 ( x ). this is the biggest one.

coco’s father has been the main antagonist of her story (way before weiss’s bg was revealed, or jacques was really even a character). this person has not only ripped off coco’s bad home life, but ripped off her father being the particular antagonist ( x , x ). they’ve also mentioned the similarity to weiss’ story but i can’t find the post. however, because this is ripped off, there’s no reasoning for why he’s the worse of coco’s parents. this is a common theme with this person: they take a headcanon and remove the fat from it so it’s not as recognizable. this also removes the context and reasoning for the headcanon.

ripped off small bits and pieces off my page: like coco barely sleeping ( x , x ), often getting detention ( x, x ) (something that’s not mentioned in their bio), sweet tooth ( x , x ), scars ( x, x )

coco’s full name being something she only gives to people she trusts ( x ,  x ) or people who would have it off her record, since it’s a reminder of her family.

oh, the best one! i posted a headcanon post specifically to literally see if they would take anything from it, and they did! blatantly! here (hair hc: x , x ) and here ( x , x, x , x). a link to my post: x and theirs: ( x, x )

    in their bio, they write that these are headcanons they’ve been writing for years. well, funny enough, lots of the things they’ve taken are things i posted and started writing about years ago. so i guess in a way, that was honest. throwback thursday!

   let me be clear: if you’ve interacted with this person, or if you didn’t notice, or you noticed but didn’t say anything, you’re not the bad guy. in these situations, the bad guy is the thief. period. i realize to some people this might seem silly, but i’m extremely sick & disabled and cannot work or really do much of anything; writing coco convincingly and making her relatable has essentially been my job, my sole motivation, for these past 3-4 years. i’ve poured hard work into this interpretation, only for someone to come along, butcher it, and claim it as their own. to you, it’s not a big deal, but to me? it’s years of work, stolen.

   i hate to make this post. i hate serious posts, i hate drama, i hate anything that might discourage someone else writing for coco. i love duplicates! i’ve never had any issues before! but this person isn’t roleplaying as coco; if anything, they seem to be roleplaying as a version of my blog. which, not cool but also, creepy.

 so, yeah. please dont send anon hate their way, this person is still a minor. but being a minor doesnt make theft okay! apparently we still needed that said out here in the rpc. thanks for reading guys, peace

[directionr]

The Tom Holland Fandom is Problematic: Yet ANOTHER Racism Rant ft. Fat Shaming and Toxic Masculinity because I'M ANGRY

and it’s a collaborative rant! with @spideyfloof and @themultilingualmartell and my sm:h fam because we’re all very very done with this. Let’s get to it! (This is a very long rant.  But if you can read a 10k word long smut fanfic then you can certainly read this.)

JUST BECAUSE JACOB BATALON ISN’T A SKINNY WHITE BOY DOESN’T MEAN HE DOESN’T DESERVE LOVE AND APPRECIATION.

Okay, to start off, this rant isn’t about one specific person.  It’s about the Tom Holland fandom as a whole (and really every fandom), but it was triggered by one event.  A user on here said that they didn’t write for Jacob because they don’t know much about him.  That’s an excuse that I’ve seen too many times and I’m tired of it.  It’s not just that person, it’s almost every user in the fandom.  

1) Disproving this excuse. I think we all know the real reason behind this: our 2 favorite horsemen of the apocalypse: racism and fatshaming!  Isabel, you don’t know these people, why would you saw that? Now let me back myself up.  Let’s take an example.  Sam Holland. You all know him, love him, write headcanons and fanfiction about him every easily.  He rarely posts on social media, and is very quiet about his private life.  And yet, somehow, some way, the fandom has developed a popular characterization of him.  Now let’s look at Jacob.  He posts on social media a lot more than Sam, including using Instagram stories, and has MULTIPLE interviews.  AND HE WAS LITERALLY IN THE MOVIE!  Harrison, Harry, AND Sam were all not in the movie, and yet we’ve developed detailed headcanons about them.  So why can’t we characterize Jacob?  Why don’t we “know much about him”?  Oh, that’s right.  RACISM AND FAT SHAMING!  Nobody wants to bother to at least give a couple thoughts about to Jacob’s characterization, and so it becomes a cycle of ignorance.  

2) Racism in the fandom. I’ve already talked about this before.  We constantly ignore any person of color in the Marvel universe, and I’m going to use Jacob and Tony Revolori as examples.  A direct quote from the sm:h fam group chat (I don’t remember who said this, someone lmk!) “I joined the fandom thinking that there would be a lot of Jacob content because he basically starred in the movie.”  STARRED.  He was Peter’s BEST FRIEND.  Yet the only posts in the jacob batalon tag are pictures of Tom..  And TONY!  Tony was the star of an Oscar winning movie, who brought a totally new and realistic spin to the Flash Thompson character, and do I see anything about him?  NO.  And it’s because we inherently discount any person who isn’t white. I know (most of) you don’t intend to be racist, but in the society we’re raised in, there’s always an undercurrent of racism by which we’re affected.  Please at least try to fight that internalized racism, or else we’ll end up worse than where we are. 

3) Fat shaming.  This is Jacob specific, but he’s not skinny or has toned abs like Tom or Harrison.  And we all know that’s part of the reason why you all ignore him.  NOT EVERY BOY, NOT EVERY PERSON, IS GOING TO BE TALL AND FIT AND ATTRACTIVE ACCORDING TO OUR SOCIETY’S UNREALISTIC STANDARDS.  We always talk about fat shaming with girls, BUT IT’S JUST AS REAL FOR GUYS!  Body type is (literally) skin deep, and it’s no excuse to ignore someone and their accomplishments, which brings us to...

4) Toxic masculinity.  Now you might think, “I’m a #woke tumblr user!  I know what toxic masculinity is and I don’t support it!”  Ok, sure, so why don’t you support Jacob?  Jacob, who is around 5′5″ and not skinny and a person of color.  THIS. THIS IS TOXIC MASCULINITY.  BOYS WHO ARE UNDER 6 FEET ARE LOVED AND VALID, BOYS WHO HAVE BMIS OF OVER 18 ARE LOVED AND VALID, BOYS OF ANY BODY SHAPE AND TYPE AND LOOK ARE LOVED VALID.  Do you realize that when you say “I only like boys who are taller than me”, you COMPLETELY INVALIDATE any other boy’s experience?  And make them feel like they are unlovable and not enough for people?  Because you do.  Toxic masculinity is NOT just boys bullying boys, it’s girls and nonbinary people who unknowingly perpetrate it too when they fall prey to society’s standards.  And a great segue into...

5) Representation.  Jacob played a short, plus size character of color who WAS NOT USED AS A STEREOTYPE.  He is smart and kind and never once was the butt of a fat joke, or stuck into the “smart, square Asian” stereotype, or a short joke, or ANYTHING.  Do you REALIZE how refreshing that is? For short kids or kids who aren’t skinny who get teased at school to see someone like them on that screen?  For ME, and MARE, Filipinos who FINALLY SEE SOMEONE WHO LOOKS LIKE US.  On a movie screen!  A Filipino with tan skin and tapered eyes and big lips who is smart but not the stereotypical Asian smart, someone who I can finally RELATE TO.  And you completely ignore all of the impact he has.  It’s bothersome and, frankly, rude and it needs to stop.

6) I actually don’t understand why people don’t stan Jacob.  He’s sweet and caring and talented and unproblematic and he ACTUALLY SUPPORTS THE TRANS!PETER PARKER HEADCANON.  HAS SAID IT, OUT LOUD, AND WAS QUOTED IN AN ARTICLE.  COME ON.  The guy plays multiple instruments (not just piano cough), sings, acts, CARES ABOUT KIDS SO MUCH (went on the hospital visits WITH Tom), has a great sense of style, has a great sense of family, and yet you stick to your same skinny white boys for who knows what reason (actually, I addressed those reasons in the previous 5 paragraphs). 

7) Conclusion. THIS FANDOM IS A MICROCOSM FOR SOCIETY.  It’s not just one person who’s perpetrating all of these injustices, it’s ALL OF US.  Including me.  And we need to stop.  We need to start giving attention to people who deserve it, and BROADEN THE DIVERSITY IN THE FANDOM!  I’m not saying to completely stop stanning the Hollands and Harrison, or that you’re required to write for Jacob and Ned or whatever.  I’m saying to diversify your blog, because if none of us start, then this ignorance will never stop.  Start writing about Jacob or include Laura in your headcanons or add Tony to your list of ships or SOMETHING.  This isn’t just about Jacob, this applies to every fandom with people of color in it.  

At the risk of sounding arrogant, you really can’t argue with this.  You might be able to argue with the details, but not with the main points of why people don’t stan Jacob, and needing to appreciate actors & characters of color in general more, because I’m right and I have this entire website (and other social media websites!) as evidence.  If you disagree with this, go ahead and bring your finger or cursor to the upper right hand corner and hit that unfollow button because it’s been time to take out the racist/fat shaming/generally rude trash. 

shamelessly tagging my mutuals because if this doesn’t get attention I will actually punch a wall (I’m joking but I’m annoyed) @parkerscupcake @thebrothersandtessa @five-foot-two-joanne @petersjacket @the-quackson-claxon @the-sarcastic-wannabe-awakens @allforholland @darling-parker @loverholland @trasholland @spidey-schxyler @dearcindymoon @hufflepuffholland @lovelyimagines @spideyparkerfilms @spideyparkerimagines @itsybitsypetey @screamholland @purelyparker @cahtastrophie @curly-haired-holland @dreamyholland @hollandazing @iamnesta @midtownsparker @nedslaptop @osterfieldblurbs @parkerroos @peterplanet @petersmoonlight @pillow223 @spider-boi @spidey-mantom @spiderling--parker @rileywrites-parker @tomhollandxreader @heavenlytom @tomsaloha @underoossss @yoinkmyheart @zendmylife @prettylilparker @stephie-senpai @httpsamholland @sidespidey @httpsfancytrash @stormyparker @sebbys @honeynutholland

[joonie-beanie]

eyyoooooooooo I got some stuff to say but I don’t wanna make a huge deal out of it so I’m gonna make a cut!

anyway, I just got a really heartfelt, brutally honest, yet still mean letter from the anon who has been leaving me hate through the last week

I know the best thing to do is not to give them attention, but I actually agree with some of the points they made, so I just wanna state my case so yall know how I feel :/

I already blocked them, and I don’t know if that will do anything tbh, but I hope they can just stop following my blog and move on, since I seem to upset them so much. I’m only human, man, thanks for giving me a chance, really, but I hope you make your life more positive and stop giving a shit about me. For both our sakes. And I say this in the nicest way possible.

I’m not sure if making this post in the right thing to do, but I know if I say nothing what they said will way on me, so I’ll make it now and regret it later.

I’m just gonna attach screenshots of the message they sent so yall can read through it. I cut out their username because I don’t want yall running to their blog to chew them out. I really appreciate the support and love you guys have been giving me, but I don’t want this to spread any farther.

Anyway, here’s the message.

I could honestly give less than a shit about all the name calling. I know they’re taunting me by saying to block them, because I’m sure with little effort they can make their way back to my blog, but I blocked them anyway. Like I said above, I just hope they can move on and forget about me, because I think you should’ve stopped giving a shit about me a while ago :/ 

But this person called me out on a few character flaws I’ve noticed about myself over time, so I wanna address those, as well as point out some changes in my blog since I became an ARMY.

One of the things that stood out to me was the bit about how I treat my anons, and how I say I’m “lonely” and beg for attention and whatnot. To address the “me being lonely and asking for attention” thing--yeah, I do feel lonely sometimes, and I do come to tumblr to try and receive attention, but I don’t necessarily feel like that’s wrong of me??? I have followers who I enjoy interacting with. I’m not the only person on tumblr that comes online and wants to receive asks and interact with people who they follow/people who follow them.

I am lonely at times, and I do ask for attention. I’m sure it can be annoying. And if anyone else is annoyed with me for such a thing, I apologize.

As for how I treat my followers, especially when they come to me for advice or for comfort--I’m sorry if my responses aren’t always up to par. For what it’s worth, I will always be here to listen, but sometimes I’m just not sure what to say. If I give a response like “:( I hope things change” or “I’m sorry that’s happening”, it’s not because I’m trying to discount you telling me how you feel, but because I have a hard time know what more to say.

Most of the time, I receive asks that I’m unable to relate to on an empathetic level, so my replies are lacking. Sometimes I don’t feel like projecting myself into a bad situation, so I offer condolences, rather than trying to force myself into somebodies shoes. It might seem selfish, but in order to keep my thoughts positive this is what I do. Which might make it seem like I don’t care about what you’re going through, but I do.

As for the flirting thing--since I became a BTS blog in 2016, a lot has changed. A lot that I’m sure many of my followers aren’t even aware of.

When I started this blog I was pretty shameless. Up until recently I’ve sought out self worth by flirting, posting lewd selfies, and basically talking dirty to followers and anons.

I used to roleplay in asks. I used to openly ask for people to come and dominate me a lot. I talked about nsfw things openly, all the time.

And it occurred to me recently actually that I’m not comfortable with those things anymore. I’ve tried to tone down my blog--and not for the sake of someone else--but because as a person I’ve just...changed :/ I’m becoming more comfortable with myself, I feel like I don’t need to seek out sexual relationships via tumblr to recharge the meter of my self worth.

I’m ok with talking about kinks and nsfw things, but not so explicitly.

I used to love being flirted with, and I’m sure I lead some people on. And if I did and that hurt you, then I’m sorry.

As for the “unsolicited nudes” I think there was...a handful of time in the past that I posted lewd photos on this blog. Any other photos I’ve posted have been on my nsfw blog, most of which I’ve since deleted. And yeah, I’ve sent nudes to mutuals/followers on tumblr who I’ve fucked around with. It’s in the past. And anything I sent directly was under consensual circumstances lmao

I’m not just sending my nudes willy-nilly, especially when I have body issues, like you pointed out with the “too fat for anyone to love” comment. Which, I don’t feel that way anymore. Do I still have confidence and security issues regarding my weight? Hell yeah, but I’m learning to accept myself more.

Anyway, that’s all I really have to say. I’m not beat up over this, but in case anyone else agrees with what this anon has to say, I wanted to state my case and offer my apologizes.

I’m not posting this looking for sympathy. I’m posting it because I felt it was something that needed to be said. I’ve been noticing these things about myself for a while (though not so harshly stated), so here we are.

Finally, I’d like to say that if you have a problem with me, please just unfollow my blog. I’m only human, and I can only do so much. I’m very far from being perfect, but I appreciate all the people who follow my blog despite that.

If you actually have made it this far, thanks for listening to me write out my thoughts I guess xD

But this is the last I’ll be addressing this matter, and this anon/user in particular.

Let’s move on from this and spread love to each other instead!

💕💕

[pheita]

Being a writer

I had been through a hurricane of emotions the last 24 hours and I like to share some thoughts about it.  It all started with some Tumblr users I had to block today who aren’t following me but basically stalked my blog and sent me what they thought are critics. I say what they thought because it was written in a way that didn’t accept talking back to them or even any kind of discussion about it. See, I had been through some communication training years ago because it was part of the training during my voluntary year at a children’s home and I learned to think through a statement I read. Sometimes you just take something too serious or understand it the wrong way because you felt attacked on a subconscious level. That happens, we are all humans. Critics can help you grow as a writer. Someone with a fresh view might see problems you didn’t notice before. But if someone makes the critic into an order like : Formate it x way. Don’t use font y. Make more paragraphs. Or whatever else this person deemed to be “wrong”, it is not a critic anymore. It is their will they want to put upon you. They want you to please their every wish and that is not critic. You know the funny thing is if we post on Tumblr we are limited to one front normally. Unless you have badass skills and added some more. Some things are just personal quirks that actually makes you stand out from others.  But most things are due to Tumblr not being meant for us writers when it comes to things like fonts or certain kind of formating. There is one thing I learned in communication training that stayed with me. If you need to critzie someone don’t use “You” sentences. They are a big fat guarantee to rub the person the wrong way.  What sounds better to you?  1. You made too many grammar mistakes 2. I noticed you have some issues with certain parts of grammar.  The second one makes you listen up, doesn’t it? The first one immediately causes a “Yeah, I don’t care what you say ‘cause I am still learning” stance. Especially those of us who write in their second language get into this kind of defensive position when it comes to spelling, grammar and punctuation easily. We know we might mix things up and I only can talk about me but I am always grateful if someone tells me “Hey, I noticed you did (enter grammar or spelling problem here) a lot.” It helps to keep an eye on these mistakes.  But I ask to do it in a nice and helpful way and not “Your grammar sucks” comments. That won’t help. Why do I write all this? Because these few users who only dared to talk to me via messenger system sent me every post of me they saw with epic ramblings what is wrong with them made me almost quit. They made me feel like a big failure because I was so nice and tried to understand what the issue was. I always try to understand the reason or intentions someone writes me what he/she wrote.  I know, my bad. After I got some comments on the actual posts by my mutuals who seriously made my day I reevulated the messeges I got from those “stalkers” and I noticed something. All of them seemed to feel entitled to know how I work, what I do, where my story goes to and to tell me what do to with it. It felt like they thought of themselves as some kind of “writing police”.  I let this sink in for some hours. I went through all the posts I made and the comments on my stories and excerpts. I read through excerpts and stories of you guys and honestly all of you rock. I love the variations of topics we have here. This made me realize I am not a failure. I decide where my story goes to. I decide which characters end up together. There is no rule that forces me to talk to everybody who thinks messaging me with orders and demands is a good way to get into contact. I cannot please everybody. No one can. Especially not people who never ever tried to write themselves but keep on telling others what to do. You can have your opinion about my work, that is okay, but don’t think I will change a long planned story just because a single person or small group doesn’t like what I do. I stopped to write fanfictions because of those people. Under no circumstance will I allow the same kind of people to take my OC’s from me, to make me stop writing original stories. This is all mine and I fucking do with them what I please. Like it or leave me alone with your entitled wishes how something should be. You want it to be differently? Write your own story. Go ahead, start writing. Become a creator. We will see what happens then. 

[ask-de-writer]

In the Desert (1 part), a fantasy of Dirkhan in the Desert and Uman the Fat

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IN THE DESERT

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

Cover by Wind the Mama Cat

1474 words

copyright 2013

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of fan activity including but not limited to art, stories, musical compositions, plays or anything else is ACTIVELY ENCOURAGED.

///////////////////////

The nomad’s arrow thumped into Uman’s camel. That was an accident. He had meant the shaft for Uman. The beast gave an expressive groan and took off like it had wings instead of feet. Very few things can catch a camel that has made up its mind to run. Uman the Fat hung on and let the camel have its head. It easily out-paced his pursuers’ horses and settled down to a distance-eating trot.

Uman reflected that he was not much better off now than he was as a prisoner in the gem mines of Lusk. He earned that fate by being a mercenary on the wrong side of a civil war. He’d always earned his living by dame Fortune. Uman had been many things in his life: fortune hunter, thief, adventurer, mercenary soldier. The big adventurer had worked harder for his independence than most who labored for a living. In the process, he had earned and lost more than many would ever see.

On the first day of his flight from Lusk, he had the misfortune to run into a band of nomads. Even worse, they knew him from the recent civil war. Hence, the arrow flighted at him.

On the second day after his camel was hit, it began to stagger and show severe distress. Before noon, it pitched onto the ground and died. Uman gathered as much of his gear as he could carry and began to walk.

The Skrald Iden seemed even hotter once he was on foot. The heat caused shimmering mirages that made the stones waver and dance. Uman walked as long as he was able. At last, he came to the end of his water, and soon after, the end of his considerable endurance.

Uman drained the very last drop of water from his canteen. He shook it in futile frustration. He was about to hurl it away with an oath. Thinking better of his action, he contented himself with the oath. Rehanging the canteen by its strap, he averred to himself, “Never can tell, it might be useful again.”

Spying an outcrop of rock that ran from east to west, Uman hastened into its shade. “This will last until the cool of the evening. Travel will be easier then,” he thought, loosening his head-cloth and settling himself as comfortably as he could. He began a futile attempt at napping to save his energy for the evening and night’s travel.

He could not get comfortable. There were hard, lumpy little stones everywhere. Looking more closely, he saw that there was a layer of gravel under the cap of rock on the outcrop.

“This looks like the gravel they made me dig when I mined for gems in Lusk,” he muttered to himself, running some of the small stones through his fingers.” I wonder…”

Uman began idly scrabbling at the gravel to pass the time. He was about to give it up as a complete waste of effort when he found a pebble that looked different from the others. He licked it, to see better what it looked like. A brilliant blue winked back at him when he held the dampened stone in the sunlight. “I don’t believe it! This is a sapphire or I’m a eunuch!” he exclaimed.

Uman began digging at the gravel like a terrier digging for a rodent. With each new find, he exclaimed in delight and dug again. After a while, he rested from his digging. In his hands were five sapphires, three rubies and a beryl.

As he admired his finds he said, “This is a nice little packet. Still, I have to get out of the Skrald Iden alive if I am to enjoy it. I would trade the lot for enough water to get to Derkhan.”

Suddenly he froze. A desert viper had silently crept to within inches of his leg. “You spoke my name and I am here,” said a voice that rasped like dry stones within his brain. “Your bargain is acceptable.”

“Who are you? Where are you?” asked Uman in an urgent whisper.

“I am Skrald Iden and I am beside your leg,” came a reply like a slide of sand.

“There is a viper by my leg. Is that you?” inquired Uman softly.

“That is my form. I am the god of these waste-lands. If you honor the bargain that you offered, I will not bite you. I will guide you to water.”

“It’s a bit strange, conversing with a serpent, but I will follow you,” replied Uman with more confidence. He gathered his few possessions and stood up, saying, “Lead on.”

As he followed the reptile through a maze of tortured rock, he said conversationally, “I thought that Skrald Iden was the name of the desert.”

The reply in his brain was like a sere wind. “It is the name of the desert. This desert was named for me.”

Uman was tired, hot and thirsty after several hours of following the reptile. He was beginning to stagger some when a small building came into sight. It was made of a translucent green stone.

The building proved to be a small temple. As he entered it, he faked a stagger so that he could lurch against the stone and feel it with his hand. It had a cool, almost silky feel.

The altar was empty. The snake crossed the floor, found purchase on several inconspicuous projections and climbed onto the altar. It grew larger, until it had filled the top of the altar, arranged itself neatly and turned to stone.

The desolate voice spoke inside his brain once more, “Your bargain, man. Put all the stones that you have found into my mouth.”

Prostrating himself before the altar, Uman asked, “Are your fangs still poisoned? They look sharp.”

The arid voice inside his head replied, “I will not hurt you, man, if you do as I say. Water awaits your cooperation.”

Placing the stones into the god̓s mouth, Uman asked, “I know that you do not come every time that someone speaks your name. Was I just lucky?”

“Indeed you were,” replied the god, its scales turning from dusty brown to jewel-like blues, reds and pale green as the stones vanished from its mouth. “Most of my time is spent with my fellow gods. I look over my desert about once every hundred years. Those works needed to keep my land untamed were just finished and I was about to go when you spoke my name and thereby gained my attention.

“Even when I am not here, worship pleases me. Bring others to my temple. You will know where it is.

“Dig no more gems from the desert. They are mine.”

A set of certainties began to form in Uman’s mind. He knew the location of all the water-holes between the temple and Derkhan and the best routes between them… Then, he felt an absence and knew that Skrald Iden was gone. It was only a short way to the first water-hole. He filled his canteen and took a long, refreshing drink. “I don’t have to dig any more gems,” he muttered as he returned to the temple. Carefully dislodging small block of the green stone from the temple, he said, “An adventurer has to take what fortune gives him.”

For four days, he was sustained by his dreams of the wealth that the temple would bring him. He worked his way through the wilderness of stone and sand, going from water-hole to water-hole until he came to the caravan track that lead to Derkhan-in-the-Desert.

Uman glared at his last date as if it were the fault of the fruit, somehow, that it was the last edible thing that he had. It did not make a satisfactory meal. After that, he went hungry.

A day and a half of trudging the dusty caravan route brought him to Derkhan. Uman entered the city by the Gate of the Setting Sun. He made his way past the blank facades of the homes of the wealthy, passing the small shops and hovels of the poor. He pulled his head-cloth tightly about his face. There seemed to be more flies in Derkhan than in all of the deserts round about. Once he found the market-place, he sought out a trafficker in gemstones.

“I have borne this across half of the Skrald Iden,” said Uman with pride, holding out the small block of translucent green stone. You will find it worth your while, I think.”

“You carried it that far?” asked the gem dealer, taking the stone. “Jade is indeed be worth my while,” he said, scratching the rock with the tip his dagger, “but this is only soapstone.”

In the back of his mind, Uman heard the sound of laughter like the sliding of dry gravel and sand.

-THE END-

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This completes In the Desert. If you enjoyed what you just read, please go to the Master Story Index for links to all of the stories that I have posted on Tumblr.

[ask-de-writer]

LOST TIME (part 1 of 3) A fantasy of Flocking Bay.

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LOST TIME

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

5556 words

© 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

written 2003

All rights reserved.

Reproduction  in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the  express written consent of the author or proper copyright holder.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users  of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in  my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge   for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, fiction, art, cosplay, music or anything else is ACTIVELY encouraged!

///////////////////////

It stands out even in the dark ... It shouldn’t. It’s just a house. A damned old house. Not even that old really, not for New England. It’s a two story salt-box style with an observation deck under a cupola at the peak. It is probably just the setting. Rusty old iron fence, gnarled elderly trees, unkempt lawn not quite out of control, windows that the neighborhood kids haven’t broken. It should be a witch’s house but it isn’t. It is mine. I just closed on it yesterday.

The kids are going to have a field day this time. I don’t like the daylight... been on night shift as far back as I can remember. That’s a longish way back. But I’m not a witch, nor vampire. Nothing exotic that I know of. I’m just one of those people (you probably know one or two) who don’t show their age. If you envy me, think again. YOU try to explain to a traffic cop why your ID has you pegged for seventy+ and you don’t look over twenty. I carry a copy of my fingerprint record from the military, because they can check that.

Funny part of it is, I really don’t have the slightest idea how old I am. Traumatic amnesia the doctors called it, during the war. The head wound was minor, they said.

That is a matter of opinion. It robbed me of my past, my name, my identity, my loves and hates but left my skills intact. I was an empty shell. I am still trying to find my past.

The name that I use comes from more or less modern myth. Vandervekken. The Flying Dutchman. Wandering Dutchman would be more accurate. He sails the seas off the Cape of Good Hope until Judgment Day. He can’t find his home either. I bought the house because it is the first place that I have seen in over fifty years where I want to stay. You explain it.

The rusty gate opened silently, thanks to the bit of oil that I put on the hinges. Going up the uneven walk, between the looming trees is an experience. The door lock is old-fashioned but still works smoothly. Covered furniture could have made ghosts to haunt the place, if I were superstitious or given to being easily frightened.

As I said, I like the night. I even enjoy things with a bit of a spooky atmosphere. I also like antiques and handcrafted things which is why, if I ever find out who did it, I will cheerfully throttle whatever philistine covered the finely inlaid hardwood parquetry floors with battleship gray paint.

Stripping and refinishing those floors was on my priority job list. Actually, I shouldn’t beef too much. Pointing out the problem got me a price reduction of nearly $2000 on an already underpriced house with all of its furniture as part of the deal. Estates can be wonderful when you are on a tight budget. Too bad that someone else had to die to create my good fortune.

As I pulled the dust covers from the furniture, I saw that my good fortune was been complete. It was all sturdy, hand-carved hardwood with Chinese silk brocade upholstery. The furniture alone was worth what I had paid for the house and contents. The tops of even the smallest hall tables were inlaid with rich veneers, ivory and mother of pearl. You couldn’t buy furniture like this any more. Besides the cost, the ivory in the inlays is no longer legal to obtain. I could get as much from the sale of just one or two pieces as I could from a year of writing if I could bring myself to part with any of this treasure. It just feels like the house would not be complete without it.

Whoever it was that had died and left this for me to have has whatever blessings it is in my power to bestow. The only wonder is that this place stayed on the market long enough for me to find it. Usually, deals like this get snapped up by the real-estate brokers before people like me ever see them.

When I got to the kitchen, I received another little jolt. I knew that it was fairly up to date, but some thoughtful soul had stocked the fridge and set out a bit of a snack for me. Just cookies and a glass for the milk, which was staying cold in the cooler. Thoughtful. I wondered who did it.

While munching on the cookies, I opened a few windows to air the place out a bit. Going out to my car, I saw that the flags of the walk needed leveling because of the weeds that grew up between them. I drove around to the alley behind the place, opened the garage and parked Lilitu, my classic pre-war Packard touring car. She looked right at home in there. Few, even of modern garages were big enough for her. I ferried my few personal goods up to the house. On my last trip, I saw a couple of wide-eyed kids looking over the back fence.

“Told ya, told ya so!” one of them chanted. “There’s somebody sneakin’ inta the ol’ Vekin place!”

“I wouldn’t call it sneaking, to move into your own place,” I answered as civilly as I could manage. “I just bought it. Why do you call it the Vekin place?”

“If ya ain’t sneakin’, why ya goin’ in the back way? An’ after dark, too?” she shot back. I could now see that they were a girl and a boy. She was obviously in charge.

“I like nights. I’m a writer, so I can keep any hours I like. Why is it the Vekin place?” I asked again.

“Dun’no - Crazy guy named Vekin used to live there,” she contradicted herself.

“Lot of folks tried to buy the place since then,” the boy piped in.

“But nobody ever stays,” the girl finished for him firmly.

“So, this is the neighborhood’s haunted house?” I inquired jovially.

“No,” was as far as the boy got.

“Its down the street, on t’other side,” she cut in.

“I looked at that one,” I said thoughtfully. “The old Victorian. Somebody’s broken out all the windows. Not like here. If the Vekin house is so bad, why hasn’t some kid chucked rocks at it?”

“‘Cause we’re not THAT crazy!” exclaimed The boy, getting out a whole thought. The girl gave him a push, and they ran off into the night.

I got up about noon, after the most restful night’s sleep that I’d had since the War. After my breakfast and a quiet tour of the place from attic to basement, I went out. My goal was the local newspaper. THE FLOCKING BAY VOICE was sprawled across the plate glass window in Old English style letters of gold leaf and black. Smaller letters proclaimed Est. 1841. I pushed open the door. My nose was assaulted by the multiple odors of printer’s ink, paper and grease. The VOICE occupied one large room. An elderly web press crouched at the back of the space, behind several rolls of newsprint. Cubicles made offices in the middle of the room. An old oak counter that had once seen duty as a bar had several signs suspended over it on thin chains. They read ‘submissions’, ‘advertisements’, ‘subscriptions’, ‘billing’.

There was a bell on the counter. Some wag had put a sign on it, “Please ring bell, it won’t help but it will give you something to do.” I gave myself something to do, energetically, a few times.

A trim little blond lady answered the bell’s summons. She wore a green eyeshade and a pin on her sweater announced, ‘Lois Martin - cook, bottle washer & EDITOR in CHIEF.’ “What can I do for you, today?” she asked.

“I came to see what I can find out about the Vekin place,” I answered, trying not to stare at her.

“Just a moment, I’ll get the file out of the morgue. I was going to get it anyway. Somebody went and bought the place again.”

“Wait a minute,” I protested. “Someone buys a house and that makes news in Flocking Bay? This town must be even quieter than it looks.”

“Oh,” she retorted, “it can get downright interesting around here when the old Vekin place sells. You’ll see.” She disappeared among the cubicles and I heard her feet clattering down a flight of stairs. I heard a file drawer creak and slide, then slam shut. It wasn’t long before she reappeared, a rather fat file clutched in her hand.

“If you’d like, we can have lunch over at Mike’s Soda Shop,” she proposed. “He makes decent submarine sandwiches and real ice-cream sodas.”

“Well ... ” I pretended to hesitate, “I haven’t been invited out by a beautiful blond in a long time, so, yes.”

“I hope that I haven’t just made a fool of myself,” she remarked, laying aside the eyeshade. “You are Mr. Vandervekken aren’t you? The man who just bought the place?”

“Too true,” I said.

“Then I’ll make it an interview and deduct it from my taxes,” she smiled.

“You make enough to pay taxes?” I asked, looking back as we crossed the street.

“I have hidden assets. The paper is a tax shelter.” She opened the door of Mike’s and ushered me in.

As I was seating her, I just couldn’t help blurting out, “Your assets seem to be pretty obvious.”

She grinned, “Go ahead and stare. I don’t mind. If I did, I wouldn’t wear a snug sweater and put my pin just here.” She pointed, then added, “Looking at it will keep you off your guard while I ask my questions.”

“OK, Ms. Martin, but let me look at the file first. You can order for me. You know the food here,” I said, reaching for the file.

“Lois,” she replied, “call me Lois, everyone else does.” Then she hollered to the man behind the counter, “Oh, Mike! Two butterscotch sodas and a big turkey sub! Divide it in half!”

“How did you know that I liked butterscotch?” I asked. “It’s not that common a preference these days.”

“I just had a hunch, that’s all. You looked like another butterscotch type person.”

I was leafing through the file on the rather beat-up table while we waited. I couldn’t resist snorting with amusement at the name of the house’s builder. Capt. Von Der Vekin. The house had been built in 1894 by the Capt. and his elusive son, Charles. Nobody had ever seen Charles until he came into town, on April 1st, 1900, to report his father’s demise and burial on the property. He ordered a headstone hewn of the local limestone. Charles had returned from WW I with honors and lived quietly, claiming to be a writer, though nobody ever saw any of his work in print. When asked, all that he would say was ‘Pseudonyms are great for privacy’. He was not so lucky when he volunteered to assist the French resistance in 1939. He never came home.

Next==>

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