This is a bit of a rant, sorry for any gratuitous swearing.
I know there’s the term ‘Mary Sue’, but I feel like there should be a ‘Becky Sue’, because both in fiction and life, white women are made out to always be the one who is right, the one who needs protecting, etc. There’s white privilege, and I feel that when a white woman against a PoC is involved, the privilege is taken to an even higher level because white women are always seen as the innocent ones.
I feel that the worst kind of Becky Sue in fandom and fiction are the ones that write stories where PoC only exist to fucking bow down to them and be there only to accomplish whatever goal they have. Like a PoC man sees a white woman at the beginning of a fic and is like–
'Omg, it’s a white woman and she’s the prettiest most precious woman I’ve ever seen and I know absolutely nothing about her, but this is love at first sight and I’m going to marry her as soon as possible. Nothing else matters. Not my family or my identity, nothing. I’m just here to please/worship the ground of Becky Sue.’
It’s fucking nauseating. Then they have the Becky Sue writers who make their Becky Sue characters complete disgusting bitches to PoC, and when they get called out for it, they’ll be like: 'Oh em gee, you’re misguided, you’re a drama queen. Like, just don’t read my story and let me have my fantasy of shitting all over PoC in peace.’
And then there’s the Becky Sue writers who write kind, intelligent PoC out-of-character (because if there’s a kind PoC character, white people have to knock them down a few pegs though shitty writing, jokes, or white-washing) then when this is pointed out they’ll be like, 'Omg, not everyone sees everything the way you do. I don’t care about the source material, I just want to treat PoC like trash.’
Then, there’s the Becky Sues that will make up excuses for their racism and microaggressions with fake (or real) excuses like: 'Oh em gee. I have depression let me write whatever I want.’ Or, 'Oh em gee. I have Stigmata and a hang nail so you can’t criticize me.’ Or, when all else fails, just resort to name calling and flipping the situation around (white women’s favorite tactic) to where they say the big bad PoC is being a 'troll’ or 'mean’, or a dick, asshole, etc. And they’re the victim of harassment.
Or, another Becky Sue will come along and be like, 'Omg, your Becky Sue character and her shitty treatment of PoC is the best thing I’ve ever read! This is better than any novel I’ve ever read! You’re the greatest writer ever! Like, your Becky Sue is SOOO down to earth!’
Or, they’ll be like: 'Oh em gee, pointing out my racism is a personal attack. Becky Sues unite! Take down the big bad PoC!’
Just because you have depression or whatever, that doesn’t give you the right to be a fucking racist, and to treat PoC characters like trash. It doesn’t exempt you from being called out or criticized either. If you can’t write (or draw) PoC without being gross, racist garbage. STOP - FUCKING - WRITING - ABOUT THEM, if you’re that fragile to criticism. (I guess white women compare themselves to porcelain because they’re fragile and crack at the tiniest thing–I guess their evil ways is also one thing that makes their looks crack at an earlier age too. *pettyTM*)
I think that white people who are adamant about writing PoC like that are TRYING to antagonize PoC. And may karma just kick them in the fucking ass, please.
Plenty of PoC deal with both depression and OPPRESSION on a daily basis. And do most white people care? Here’s a tiny hint…HELL, FUCKING, NO.
Representation and the things you write do have an effect on others. Don’t try to make excuses or pretend that it doesn’t.
Can PoC writer’s/fanfic writers and artist start tagging their work as 'PoC writer’, 'PoC artist’? Or 'Black writer,’ etc., etc.
I’m so drained of navigating through klandom’s filth, and having to handle white people (many who claim to be “progressive”) with kid gloves for every little thing because they can’t take discussions about anything that isn’t about glorifying everything they do, or anything that takes the focus off their white world.
I’ve been thinking about starting some rec lists of fanfic writers of color maybe we could do that?
yesterday spaghettiluek and I had a.. chat and this happened. I realised 1000 words in that I hate this but anyway here you go :)
“Uh, babe?” Luke’s voice sounded from in front of the mirror, his fingers working to do up the buttons of the black shirt he’d slipped over his broad shoulders. “Little bit of a problem in here…”
You poked your head through the bathroom door, fresh red lips pursed in curiosity, “Hmm? What’s up?” He spun around from the mirror, fingers paused two buttons down from finishing, eyes wide, flicking rapidly between you and his exposed chest.
“Oh,” You bit the inside of your cheek to suppress a smirk, noting the panic flashing across his face. “Right… those…” Stepping forward, you brushed your fingertips softly across the cluster of marks you’d left across his collarbones the night before, the scratches inching over his shoulders and across his chest, physical evidence of how much you’d missed him while he was gone.
Someone asked me how to write villains. And I was going to go on a whole rant on how to create the traditional “bad-guy”. What elements are needed to form together a classic body of evil that we’ve all come to know and love. Whether its Disney or Pixar, we can all point to a screen and name our most favorite of antagonists that we simply love to hate.
And maybe one day I will write about them. Because, believe me, they are fun to put down onto a page.
But right now I’m going to talk about one that isn’t as talked about, but is, in my opinion, the most superior of the villain tropes.
I still remember the days when I thought the lodge episodes were the worst thing that could happen to robron. And the hitman and the grain pit episodes were the worst kind of writing from the show. Aw, sweet innocent summer child, how wrong you were 😂
The worst kind of nightmares i think, are the kind when you have lost someone in someway; the ones that torture you with all the things you are afraid of in the back of your mind, but then on rare occasions you wake up and find that part of that is true, that the nightmare could pick back up in real life, and you just wont be able to wake up from it.
You tugged open your fridge and
bent down, peering inside for anything to stave off the hunger in your belly
that had continued to grow worse as the night dragged on. You mentally cursed
yourself for eating the last of the leftover spaghetti from a few days ago,
before you closed the fridge and wandered back into the living room.
Plopping onto the couch, you dragged
over the soft blanket you had been curled in and snuggled beneath it. Your gaze
upturned to the television as a rerun of some TV show played, seeing as nothing
good was on at two in the morning, and you just begun to delve into what was
happening on the screen when you got disturbed.
Two loud knocks came from your front
door and you slightly furrowed your brow, turning your head to gaze in the direction
of the door. Who the hell would be knocking at this time? You threw the blanket
off you and clambered to your feet, creeping towards the front door to peer
into the peephole. With a sharp intake of breath, you quickly unlocked it and
threw the door open.
Bucky was clutching his ribcage and
breathed out a sigh of relief, “Oh good, you’re up…”
i think maybe the worst kind
of heartbreak happens when you
break another’s heart. i’ve
been sitting here wondering how
to tell you i don’t love you back.
and it tears me open inside out to think
that you could’ve kept it in
all this time; a part of you always
hoping i’d want you to be mine.
i know you hate it when i apologise
but i think i really should say,
that i’m sorry out of everything,
the way i feel, i can’t change.
I have written a thing or am still writing a thing and it got to this bit that I had to post because it’s wonderful and I am proud of it:
And there is Smith’s snotty voice again. Harry is so freaking tired of it that he can practically feel the annoyance radiating off of himself.
But the worst Hufflepuff to ever live does not relent and sizes Harry up, looking down at him and asks the most inane question he has ever asked and that is a record.
“Hey, aren’t you gay with Malfoy now? Ginny must be feeling awful after being your beard for so long.”
Harry can almost hear Draco’s eye roll beside him (it is very impressive and elegant) and he feels bolstered to answer, a drawl worthy of his boyfriend emanating from his mouth.
“You know, it might be hard for your small brain to comprehend but there is this handy thing called bisexuality.”
I put you through the worst kind of pain, there’s nothing worse than being lied to, especially from the one person you called trust, from a person you once loved.
And I stole the sunlight from your mornings to make myself pure,
but I also took your stars from your nights to keep myself shiny.
I never cared for you enough,
I never loved you enough,
I broke your heart,
& it wasn’t going
to be the same.
The same way I saw you love me,
that’s how you love her now.
The same way I saw you kiss me,
that’s how you kiss her now.
The same way I saw you hold me,
that’s how you hold her now.
And I know it’s sad,
and I know it’s over,
but I still want you to know–
If I had the time to apology
for the damage I have caused.
If I had the time to make the clouds
stop raining for a second,
if I had the will to stop the sun
from shining for a minute,
just for a short period;
I’d apologize and it wouldn’t mean
a thing, it wouldn’t mean anything.
But I’m sorry. I’m truly, truly sorry.
I hurt my own heart by hurting yours.
// written for a friend. you’ll be ok.
I hate getting writers block in the middle of writing a fic. It’s like the worst kind of block because it’s not traditional writers block. It’s like, I know the story I want to tell and like I have this yearning inside of me to experience the story because I feel like it’s such a cool idea, but I can’t get it written fast enough. Like my heart is already at the part where Harry and Draco fall in love with each other, but I’m still in the process of typing the build up and my hearts like yelling at my fingers to type faster and then I’m exhausted and get writers block because of course I would and sometimes writing sucks. I just hope people enjoy it once it’s finished so all this emotional turmoil will be worthwhile lol
If you ever see him again, tell him I’m sorry. It wasn’t his fault for loving me too much. It was mine, for loving him too little and pretending if as I loved him as much as he loved me. The second I stopped loving him I should’ve gone. Unrequited love is what it became, and that is the worst kind of love.