This weekend I deleted my Instagram account, the one dedicated to Size Fantasy material.
I’d had one before and attracted a lot of followers, which were mostly shame-laden reprobates and cyber-naive theocratic citizens. I deleted it and shed all the followers, started again, this time being less smutty and a little more SFW. All Daz models were fully dressed, though they may have appeared in suggestive situations, and a lot of my photo collages which are SFW because I’m in them. Nobody wants to see NSFW Aborigen.
But I deleted my account this weekend because Instagram was going off the rails. I’ve reported several accounts for child sexual abuse, and Instagram said they found nothing wrong. I’ve reported dozens of blatantly racist comments, white supremacist hate speech, and Instagram didn’t see a problem with them.

Along with this, the suggested videos were a string of nightmares. Youths filming themselves while robbing stores in San Francisco, high-speed car accidents on the highways, Karens screechin’ and assaultin’ like they do, calls to violence through gun holsters and belt knives and “patriotic” clothing, stabbings, bombings, car theft, teens attacking people on subways or filming themselves pickpocketing, etc. Then came the inundation of evangelism, all the religious hypocrites, begging for money, yelling about how they love Jesus but rejecting his lessons, all these materialistic cults in every nation…
I blocked most of them, but I think any activity on an account invites similar accounts, so eventually all I saw was white supremacy and religious hypocrisy. And I wasn’t seeing any traffic to my work anyway, so why would I stick around?
I said goodbye to a few people I’d interacted with, explaining what was up, why I had to go, and I hoped we could stay in touch. One fan of my writing copied my Linktree, which contains everywhere I exist; another creator said she was glad to hear from me and would keep Linktree bookmarked. Everyone else was like “huh, okay, whatever” and I suspected myself of parasocial relations, which to me is a red flag to shut everything down and go away.
My wife was concerned about what I’d do with my evenings, no longer having an account with which to endlessly scroll for gigantic asses, but I said I’d work it out. I could start writing letters again or try reading this huge stack of ethical porn library books. I could work out, learn another language. Take up archery, anything.
Still. I want a place to show my work, my photo collages and Daz Renders. What do I do about that? I’m not starting over with Tumblr, I’m not knuckling under to X or BlueSky, and the crowds haven’t exactly followed me to Mastodon.
I can post a bunch of work to Pixiv, and only once in a while will the admin politely request that I cover up the lady-bits. I have stuff stored on DeviantArt, but I just heard from Giantess Tina that they deleted Karbo’s account, abruptly deciding they’d deleted something in their Terms of Service.
We Size Fantasists, we’re really not safe anywhere. How can we set up camp somewhere that’s adult-friendly, while social media falls, rises, and falls around us?
I have a free, almost-simple solution. Please follow along in your notebooks.
- Start an account with Neocities, a free webhosting service. If you know HTML, build yourself a simple, serviceable website here. If you don’t know HTML…
- Start an account with Poe, a hub of chatbots, and give it this prompt: “write code for an attractive homepage, with a header menu for Home, Stories, Artwork, and About Me, and copyright information the footer.” Then go back to Neocities, edit your index.html file, and paste that code in. Bang, you have a website.
- You can either host small image files on Neocities (1GB limit) or upload them to ImgBB (32MB limit) and link them to Neocities. If you don’t know how to reduce the file size of your images, use Squoosh.
There, now you have a little headquarters that you can refer to, no matter what else goes on. Please think about a backup plan in this time of instability. I’m tired of missing my favorite creators.

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