#which is a total misnomer

[jacensolodjo]

I put some more aquaphor on it out of desperation so you can't fully tell the snake skin anymore. Just those spots that seem like the color bled into the other is the peeling skin lol

Also that small hair on the star. I can't get it off without potentially upsetting the site. Same with the hairs in the left lol

You can also see my arm hair growing back from where I shaved it to give my artist a better canvas to work with lol

[kremlin]

"This event ends the moment you write us a check, and it better not bounce, or you're a dead motherfucker" -- Big Bill Hell

There was a time when you'd see little old ladies paying for the groceries with a hand-written personal check, holding up the line, causing an immediately-forgiven slight sense of annoyance with those behind her. Buddy. Those days are over. They've been over. What, did you think you were going to just pop a couple extra zeroes on the end of your paycheck there? Maybe scan your paycheck, open it in photoshop, make a template, print em out all nice? You think you're the first to think of that, dipshit?

It takes the law a long time to catch up with the state of the art. You're reading this on the internet, which means you never use checks. The law has caught up. Your ass will be going to prison immediately and you will see zero return.

You can't even kite checks anymore, and hell, nobody under 40 will even know what that means, due to the blazing fast, two day settlement on all ACH transactions. Let me paint you a picture.

You get paid on Friday, but it is Monday, and bills are due on Tuesday. And you're broke: $0 in the bank. Goose egg. Pop open your checkbook, go to a store, "buy" some things, write a check for the amount. The cashier takes it!

Now take those things you "bought", across town, to another store location, and return them for cold hard cash. Sweet. Bills paid. Friday rolls around, and you just make it to the bank to deposit your paycheck before it closes. After the weekend, the checks you wrote finally post, and they don't bounce! You've kited a check. You've surreptitiously taken a zero-interest loan. And we know your broke ass. The interest rate on that short-term payday loan should have been straight up usurious. We're talking 29%. That makes predatory fuckers like us horny for sex. We're so mad. Now you are going to Federal Prison. For a good minute. Fuckface.

COST: $0.10 (With banks offering free checking accounts + Bic pen)

"Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor sleet, if you fuck with the mail, we'll rip your nuts off" -- Ronald Mail (Inventor of Mail)

Many people have this misnomer that the most powerful people in politics are democratically elected. The president, of the United States, of America, is a stupid cartoon hotdog. All of them, I don't care. Way less clout than you'd think. Brilliantly, it is the people that the hotdog president appoints who are actually doing anything significant. The director of the CIA. The fucking chairman of the Federal Reserve. Probably the, like, most senior, uh, general of the military, and shit too. I don't know, we don't "do" army here at Bloomberg. You probably don't even know their names! I don't! These are the ones you should be seeing in your sleep.

There's another position like that. Appointed directly by the hotdog. The Postmaster General. That's a real title. He's the CEO of the mail, and buddy, what he may lack in political power relative to the director of the CEO, he makes up in raw sexual energy. Total Tom Selleck energy. Like an airline pilot. We're talking Donald Sutherland in Invasion of the Body Snatchers. I'm tentpoling in my black business slacks just writing this, and all my Bloomberg newsroom bros are peering over my shoulder and also tent-poling. We're not gay though, and especially me, I'm probably the least gay, but sometimes I just lay awake for hours at night what that mustache would feel like pressed against my lips, the unbelievable and utter, total sense of security I'd feel burying my head into his hard chest.

You get it. He's your dad. And if you fuck with the mail, you've fucked with the tools in your dad's garage. And dad's been drinking. You're in for it, bucko, you are in trouble. Do you think the United States Postal Service actually makes any money? Hell no. It costs like five bucks to mail a box basically anywhere I can think of and they give you the boxes for free. You can just walk in the post office and take them. I do that, and then just throw them away, I don't know why, some kind of compulsion. Being able to move shit around like this, quickly, cheaply -- Jesus H, I've got a huge amount of money in my bank account, probably tens of trillions of dollars (due to financial knowledge gained from reading Bloomberg articles) and I could probably mail every single person ever something and still come out in the black.

No way pal. They've thought of that already. The Postmaster General is going to know every time, and he's going to grab you by the shirt collar, wearing his cool as fuck hat, and you're going to get your pants pulled down, and your bare ass spanke...I need to go use the restroom real quick.

We rely on the mail system to get important shit done. It's not something to be taken lightly, and it isn't. Trust me. This is why, like almost every other person who receives mail in this year 2023, I just fucking put a wastebasket under my mail slot. I don't even shred that shit anymore. I just burn it. Takes less time.

COST: $0.63 (Postal stamp)

"Can call all you want, but there's no one home // And you're not gonna reach my telephone // Out in the club, and I'm sipping that bubb // And you're not gonna reach my telephone" -- Lady Gaga

I read something wild that the children of today do not know what a dial tone is, because of how fucked up and stupid they are. Isn't that super fucked up?

While it's not really our style, allow me to fill you in on some ancient, arcane knowledge about the telephone. You can turn it on, and then you can punch in numbers. Any numbers. Random ones, or maybe not random ones. If the ten numbers you punch in are the same as the numbers in someone else's telephone number, their phone will ring, and then you are talking to them. This is called "Phreaking".

Here's the kicker: You can tell that jackass anything you want. "Oh, Hi, Yes, I am Reginald Sumpter calling from Avalon Consulting LLC, we are just following up on the invoice we sent you. Please remit to ###### routing ###### account."

BOOM! Your name isn't Reginald whatever and that company doesn't exist, but you just received a deposit. It's fucking beautiful. What have you done wrong? It isn't your responsibility to handle who your business' clients/etc are, it's their's. If they want to just pay you money for no real reason, well, that's kind of on them, isn't it? I haven't stuck a pistol in your face and demanded everything in the register.

Well, it's too clever. It's too slick. This is the United States of America. It's one thing to commit a felony like armed robbery, it's another thing to piss off someone in charge of the accounting division who uses a special bathroom you need a key to get into.

You can do it on the computer too, I use a PC Computer at work and send email, so you can see how it'd work there. You can make a document that is indifferentiable from a real invoice and, straight up, 1/3 of the time they will pay that shit. Lmfao.

It's called wire fraud because, uhh, duhhhh, there's wires. What do you think that thing is strung between the telephone receiver and the dialer? And computers? Give me a break. There's so many wires with those.

COST: $0.25 (Coin for payphone)

"People calculate too much and think too little." -- Charlie Munger

It is insane how dumb the common man can be when it comes to our world of expertise. I hear this same sentiment, like, ALL THE TIME:

"Durr hurr I will buy an insurance policy for my car or house or whatever so that in case something happens to it I will get money". And then that same person proceeds to drive safely or not burn their house down. Dumbest crap imaginable.

Let me break it down for you. Insurance is a two player competitive game. There is a winner and there is a loser. Go take out an expensive insurance policy on your American sports car. Buy a neck brace, a football helmet, and pack that bitch with throw pillows. Then get in the left lane of a major highway at like noonish, let it rip and then SLAM on your brakes. Hit from behind! Your fault! Congratulations. You have won insurance. How this gets past people is beyond me.

You can only do this once or twice before the insurance companies catch on. Then they don't want to fuck with you. It is also..I don't know man...something feels off about taking a car or a house, which like, some guy had to build and just destroying it, but that is only a weird emotional thing, since you're making money, more than whatever the destroyed thing is worth, so in reality you've built that house plus some extra. You've contributed.

COST: $106.00 (Average monthly car insurance payment)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

SUBSCRIBE TO MY WHATEVER FOR PART TWO, COMING SOON. i'll post it later today probably. whatever time frame will juice the numbers. have a sneaky peaky

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[blindbeta]

Why Writers Should Consider Giving Blind Characters Canes, Guide Animals, or Other Mobility Aids + How To Choose One

(Note: This post is admittedly long and full of information. Make use of the headings to read the parts you are interested in. I have provided many links, which you can read as you go or save for later. I suggest saving this post and taking your time with it. I am also willing to answer any questions for people who have difficulty reading long posts. While I considered breaking this post into parts, I decided to keep all the information in one place for ease of sharing and reference, especially because multiple sections of the post refer to other sections contained within it.)

When I read for blind characters, my most common suggestion for writers is to give their character a cane, guide animal, or utilize another mobility aid. Most stories I beta read feature totally blind characters or people with very little vision, such as only seeing colors. Despite this, it is extremely common for me to suggest giving them a cane or guide animal because they are rarely portrayed using mobility devices. Because this is such a common suggestion, I wanted to create a post about it.

Most of this will be about mobility aids for people who aren’t familiar with them or are still deciding what tools are best for their character. It will also be mostly for modern, realistic, or semi-realistic stories. I will create a separate post for fantasy and science fiction mobility aids, use of magic or magical items, and writing stories set in or inspired by times before formal mobility tools existed. However, I believe this post can benefit anyone who is writing a blind character or anyone who wants to learn more about blindness. Mobility tools are a big part of blind culture, blind communities, diversity of blind experiences, and accessibility.

Learn About Mobility Aids

Here is a comprehensive post by visually impaired fiction writer and blogger @mimzy-writing-online which contains information about canes, O&M, guide animals, etc. If you are not familiar with canes, start there. It contains helpful information for body language, use of canes, and resources for descriptions that any writer will find valuable. The post also has a section on guide animals and sighted guide.

Here is a post I made about crafting fictional guide animals, although I have no experience as a guide animal handler myself. I made sure to research and include links, so it should still be a good starting point. It also has information about differences between service animals and emotional support animals.

Sighted Guide / Human Guide

First, terminology discussion. Sighted guide is a more common term and more examples come up when I search this term. Sighted guide refers to when a person with vision helps guide a blind person. The guide can be abled or also blind themselves. I have guided my friends before and they have guided me. I have often said that, in a way, sighted guide is a misnomer because someone who has less vision or no vision can also guide someone with more vision just as well.

The term human guide makes up for this misnomer by being more accurate. A TikTok by AskABlindPerson or @askablindperson on tumblr, explains this well. Here is a link to the video. The video states the following:

“I’m blind and I definitely prefer to say human guide rather than sighted guide because you don’t inherently need vision to guide and a blind person can do it too. And it doesn’t have to be that the blind person who’s guiding has more vision than the other person either. It can just be that they know the area better than the person they’re guiding, or it could be that they just have better cane skills or independent travel skills than the other person. Because not everybody has equal access to the same exact opportunities for training. So a blind person can also guide, which is why I like to say human guide because it’s more inclusive.”

Not everyone minds which term is used, however. Some people also only use one term because it was taught to them first, rather than because of any particular meaning.

Below are some examples of sighted / human guide and when it is often used.

Here is an article titled How to be a Sighted Guide

Here is another helpful page with information on certain situations such as narrow spaces.

Here is a video by London Vision.

While human guide can be someone’s main mobility aid, it is often used according to the situation.

Situations in which your character might want to use sighted guide include:

-crowds, where a cane might be difficult to use or someone has a companion they would like to avoid being separated from

-while in lines, mostly to provide descriptions of what happens around them or to let them know when to move forward in the line

-ground that is uneven or steep may cause someone to want to use sighted guide rather than a cane, although this will depend on the person. Using a guide and a cane is also possible. A guide animal may go around the obstacle

-when going inside an unfamiliar house or indoor location, usually for locating a specific room

-navigating unfamiliar areas

-public transport

-guide animal handlers may choose to either do traditional sighted / human guide while using the guide animal or give the command for their animal to follow the person without holding onto them

Guides allow the blind person to gain additional information about their surroundings through conversation with the guide. Human guides can also aid in navigation by providing helpful directions or landmarks. Human guides can be used with a white cane or guide animal. They can also be used without any other mobility aid.

People from cultures who place high value on interdependence, especially on family, may wish to use more human guides. People who have anxiety or disorientation may prefer to use human guides or simply travel with someone else for security. Other people who might tend to use more human guides include: people who have moved to an unfamiliar area, people who are losing vision, people who have recently become blind, people with other disabilities or health concerns, or people who prefer the company of others.

In stories, human guides can portray character relationships, establishing trust and respect. Perhaps a character already knows how to guide, showing familiarity with blindness. This mobility tool can display the helpfulness of a stranger or be the start of a meet-cute. Additionally, showing how good or bad a character is at guiding can show compatibility between characters. I also believe that writing guides into a story can allow for detailed visual descriptions or conversation between your characters.

Imagine character A slowly learning to trust character B, culminating in letting that character be a human guide.

Sonar Devices

I wanted to include a section for these because they aren’t often discussed.

Sonar devices are intended as a supplement for use of a cane or guide animal. Unless the sonar and cane are paired together, such as with the WeWalk cane. While they could be used by themselves, this should probably only be with the addition of a guide and in non-crowded, familiar area.

Here is a video review of the Sunu Band by TheBlindLife.

Here is another review comparing two devices: the Sunu Band and the Buzz Clip.

Note how the devices are used, especially with a cane. The cane is used to detect objects from the waist below, whereas the sonar device is used to detect objects above the waist. This includes objects like tree branches.

Sonar devices work by detecting objects in front of the user and giving a tactile alert, such as a vibration. Vibrations increase the closer one gets to the object, giving a continuous vibration when right in front of it. Moving away from the object, such as stepping to the side, will stop the vibration.

This device could allow blind characters to be more active an create interesting opportunities for descriptions.

Why Does My Character Need a Cane, Guide Animal, or Human Guide?

A few reasons include:

1. It will be more relatable for blind audiences if characters move through the world like they do

2. It is more realistic for stories set in our world or worlds meant to be realistic save for a few elements

3. It allows audiences who aren’t blind to understand how blind people move through the world. In the case of sighted guide, it also offers depictions of politely and efficiently offering help to a blind person, which may include not offering help at all.

4. Canes and guide animals give your blind character some visibility, as the cane, and to some extent the guide animal and harness, signify to others that a character is blind or otherwise disabled in some way. As for sighted / human guide, it offers an extra voice for advocacy purposes or the added visibility that someone is being helped.

5. Mobility tools allow blind people to participate more in a world that is rarely accessible for them at a basic level. I almost always find this is true in books as well unless the writer makes a point to include universal design.

6. Mobility aids improve navigation, increase safety, and increase interaction with the world.

Why Would Anyone Need To Know My Character is Blind?

Safety is a big factor.

In this video titled Using A White Cane While Legally Blind by Cayla With a C, Cayla discusses some of the benefits of using a white cane. One of these is that the cane works as an identifier, letting people know the person using it can’t see so other people need to watch out for them. She mentions it is also important for cars and bikers to know cane users can’t see them well or at all, meaning they don’t expect a cane user to move out of the way.

Both Cayla and Molly Burke share in their videos that people are more likely to offer help when they use a cane.

How Do Mobility Aids Help Blind People Navigate?

It depends on what mobility aid is used.

Canes offer more tactile information and direct contact with the environment. Canes allow someone to feel changes in the ground, such as going from carpet to tile. They make it easier to feel steps or broken sidewalk. They allow blind people to be aware of obstacles, such as a chair, rather than simply going around them they way they might with a guide dog. They help blind people locate landmarks they need in order to be oriented in their environment and navigate their way to different places. For example, they may search for a bench, knowing a drinking fountain is across from it.

As for guide animals, because I am not a guide animal handler myself, I wanted to include quotes from a few sources.

The Guide Dog Foundation says the following in a very useful Q&A:

“In short, guide dogs are taught how to find and follow a clear path, maneuver around obstacles, and stop at curbs. They follow their teammate's directions, and they know that they can disobey only in the face of danger.”

And according to International Guide Dog Federation:

“A guide dog is trained to guide its owner in a straight line unless ordered otherwise. The dog will avoid any obstacles en route, above or around you. It will stop at stairs, doors and kerbs. The dog will not decide where to go; it is up to the vision impaired person to instruct the dog on the direction for the dog to go and the dog will safely guide the person as instructed. The vision impaired person will already be familiar with regularly travelled routes and the dog will quickly become familiar with these too.”

And International Association of Assistance Dog Partnership has a page that explains the categories of tasks performed by guide dogs, as well as other types of assistance dogs.

Sighted / human guide can be used with a family member, friend, or helpful stranger. It can be a primary mode of O&M or used when needed, meaning it be used even if someone already has a cane or a guide animal.

Usually, human guide involves contact with the guide. It can also include the guide orienting the person they are leading by describing surroundings such as “there is a bench to the right” or “we’re near the door” or it can involve telling someone where steps are.

How Do I Know What My Character Should Use?

What your character chooses will depend on their lifestyle, level of vision, age, where they live, culture, religion, and their needs as a blind person.

In the post on guide animals, I went over a few reasons someone might choose a guide dog or a guide horse.

Here are some articles about canes vs guide animals. Although the ones I found focus on dogs, I believe many points made about guide animals can be applied to miniature horses as well.

Guide Dogs vs White Canes: The Comprehensive Comparison

The link above includes the following:

“One of the biggest and most obvious differences between a guide dog and white cane is that a guide dog is trained to avoid obstacles along their pathway. A white cane helps locate impediments so that the blind person can decide how best to maneuver around them.”

Another article that may help:

White Cane vs Guide Dog: Why or Why Not?

White Canes and Guide Dogs - What’s Actually the Difference?

Here are some videos:

Guide Dog vs Canes - Pros and Cons by Molly Burke

White Canes vs Guide Dogs by Challenge Solutions

White Canes vs Guide Dogs - Which is Better? 21 Pros and Cons by Unsightly Opinions

Guide Dog vs Cane, Which is better? by Ashley’s Advice

I also wanted to discuss a few more points.

1. Multiple disabilities

People with multiple disabilities may prefer different methods. For example, those who use a stabilizing cane may have different reasons for choosing their mobility aid. I went into that more in this post here.

It would be difficult to cover all other disabilities here, but I will attempt to include some things to consider.

Consider any pain, weakness, or other difficulties your character may have around their hands, wrists, arms. Canes require repetitive use of these areas.

Consider any sensory issues your character has. Sensory issues may come into play with cane vibration and the tactile information given by canes, especially as it differs between surfaces. The video by Challenge Solutions listed above discusses pain caused by vibration and repetitive movement, for someone who already deals with this. It goes into more detail, mentioning that a dog may lessen this difficulty compared to cane use.

Consider phobias or traumas that may make service animals, especially dogs, a bad choice for the character, their loved ones, or community. In contrast, consider how a service animal may help provide comfort to characters with traumas unrelated to animals

I hope that provides a starting point for thinking about how other disabilities may impact someone’s choice when deciding what mobility aid is right for them. I hope this is helpful is choosing a mobility aid for your character.

2. Financial Considerations

Consider financial difficulties. While guide dog schools often provide highly trained dogs, weeks of training, a harness, and some essentials for free, it depends on the school. Some schools may cover the dog’s veterinary care, while others may not. Some may provide one bag of food. Some may cover costs of transportation to the training school, but may not cover the cost of missed work. Challenge Solutions lists several costly areas that go with having a dog, such as grooming or toys.

The amount the training schools cover is so varied that one cannot assume anything about how the blind person keeps up with care of their dog. They may have trained with a school that covers the most costly things, leaving them to buy the occasional treats and toys, while other schools may not cover much after the dogs and handler leave the school, causing financial difficulties that may or may not have been fully anticipated. Financial situations of blind people with guide animals cannot be reliably assumed.

Canes, on the other hand, are a one-time payment per cane, if they aren’t already free. While canes do require replacement tips and while people do go through canes quickly, the cost is not comparable to that of caring for a guide animal.

For writers, it may make sense to have your fictional world contain schools that continue to cover costs over the guide animal’s life. Or perhaps veterinary care is free in that world. Either way, this may be something to consider. The character’s financial situation can show a lot about them and the world in which they live.

3. Additional thoughts about safety and discrimination

Safety has many different connotations in blind communities. Some people consider safety to mean social safety, as alerting others to blindness may explain any behavior that would be considered strange or rude.

Some consider safety to mean physical safety from tripping, falling, running into objects or people, or having them run into you. This is especially important with vehicles.

Still others consider safety to mean being able to navigate and orient oneself, such as when traveling alone.

Some people consider safety to mean interpersonal safety and the fear of being harmed due to being perceived as vulnerable.

Molly Burke mentions this particular subject at around 19:22 to 20:47 in her video here. To paraphrase, she says that having a big dog with her makes her feel safer as a blind person. Molly states that the white cane may increase her vulnerability as it identifies her as a potential target due to her blindness.

I mentioned that it is helpful for people to be identified as blind, such as with a cane and, to a lesser extent, a guide dog. That is still true. This may provide protection by alerting others that they may need to look out for a blind person instead of expecting that person to avoid them or their vehicle.

On the other side, a cane may alert others to vulnerability in a way that is harmful to the blind person. Due to this factor, blind people may feel safer with a guide dog because the presence of a dog may make others hesitate before doing them harm. I am not sure if the same can be said for those with horses, but it is possible horses may still act as a deterrent. In the video by Challenge Solutions, Caitlyn says that while guide dogs are not trained to be guard dogs and should not be aggressive by nature, it can feel safer to travel with a guide dog. Caitlyn says the following: “They are dogs and I would like to think that they would have a protective instinct if a situation arose where that was needed.” She adds, “I think there is more of a protective aspect to guide dog usage than white cane usage. At least I always felt a lot safer with my dog than I do with my cane.”

I also wanted to include thoughts about discrimination.

Some blind people may worry they will experience more discrimination using one mobility aid over another. This may influence their decision. To give brief examples, people with service animals may be turned away from places they are allowed to go. They may need to advocate for themselves more because of this. Another example might be feeling like people judge them or stare at them more when they use a white cane. They may be grabbed or shouted at more often when using a white cane, as described by Challenge Solutions, or they may be ignored or go unnoticed in other cases. In fact, some blind people are only spoken to in public because of guide dogs acting as a conversation starter.

However, feeling invisible in society seems to be a common issue for many disabled people. Some people also talk about being invisible in some areas and uncomfortably visible in other areas. While a blind person’s choice of mobility aid may influence this, the common disabled experience of both invisibility and hyper-visibility might still follow them.

Additionally, myths about blindness, which I wrote about in this post here, may also cause people to accuse cane users of faking if they have residual vision, which can lead to them feeling unsafe or like they cannot use their residual vision without receiving negative attention. This may cause some people to want a service animal, as in the case of a guide dog, some people may assume they are simply walking their dog or training a guide dog. This may be a way some blind people try to avoid being accused of faking blindness. However, blind people with guide animals may also be accused of having a fake service animal or be accused of not really needing their service animal. Additional barriers may include general public ignorance about laws around service animals or differing laws around access per country.

All of the above can put a lot of strain on people who are just trying to get from point A to point B.

Sighted guide may come with some issues as well. Finding someone who is willing to guide and a helpful guide may be challenging unless a blind person is already using a trusted friend or family member. In social situations, other people may misunderstand use of human guide, believing that they should address the guide rather than the blind person. Use of this mobility aid may also come with judgment from others about the blind person being incapable, lazy, or a burden on others. None of these are true, but they can be judgments people make.

Sighted / human guide may be a preferred form of O&M for people who have recently gone blind or are in unfamiliar areas. Additionally, blind people who come from cultures where interdependence is valued may prefer to use a human guide with or without another mobility aid. It is also important to note that the nature of the blind community also celebrates both interdependence and dependence, and these may not always mean the same thing as they do to people who aren’t blind. This is also true when it comes to using mobility tools and techniques.

What Should My Low Vision Character Use?

The majority of blind people have some residual vision, including low vision. Which is part of why most of the blind community doesn’t use canes, along with lack of training. Unfortunately, many people with residual vision are, however subtly, turned away from using canes or other mobility aids. Based on stories from friends, suggestions in this post by @mimzy-writing-online, my own experience, and information online, I will suggest a few reasons this might be the case.

A big reason has to do with believing they have too much vision to require a mobility aid. The idea of not being disabled enough is both an internal an external issue for people with residual vision. This is because people often claim that if a person can see some, they must not require mobility aid. Mobility aids are seen as a last resort, rather than a way to make life easier. This can lead to self-doubt, confusion, or guilt for a blind person. They might feel as if they are ungrateful because they believe other people have it worse. Conversely, some people may have been taught that relying on a mobility tool is shameful, giving up, or reveals a lack of independence. And sadly, some blind people with residual vision may be afraid of rejection or standing out from others.

This leads me into another reason, which is: believing they will experience more discrimination or social exclusion when using a cane. Unfortunately, this can be true. However, it is also true to that not using a cane can cause others to judge someone for things they do or don’t do as a blind person.

Disclosure is an option that works for many. However, blind people cannot always disclose to everyone they interact with, such as to strangers spotting them outside. Disclosure of blindness can also be fraught with accusations of not really being blind, not looking blind, or not being blind enough to count as blind. These accusations sometimes happen when using canes as well. Denial of help, denial of accommodations, and accusations of faking are common.

In some circumstances, the opposite can happen. Instead of being accused of faking, the choice to use a mobility aid might bring about helpfulness from strangers or concern from loved ones. There may be concern that the vision loss has progressed or that something is wrong. After all, suddenly using a mobility tool can inspire alarm in people who aren’t used to them, because the prevailing thought is that mobility tools are only for totally blind people. And the incorrect message behind this is that being totally blind is negative.

Characters choosing to start using a mobility tool could ease themselves and loved ones into it by being open about their plans. They could experiment with cane use, marginally increasing use over time. Or they could simply use a cane as often as they need to, addressing concerns as they are brought up. Portrayal of communication about mobility aids between a blind character and their family could be a lovely addition to a story.

Lastly, blind people are expected to rely on residual vision for as long as possible, in as many situations as possible. Even if it causes pain, disorientation, or anxiety. Even if seeing is exhausting or frustrating. Even if it isn’t safe. However, the other side of this is that many blind people with residual vision enjoy seeing colors or shapes. They may enjoy being able to describe things to friends with less vision.

But their sight may not always be enough to forgo using a mobility tool safely.

It is my opinion that anyone on the blind spectrum or with declining vision can benefit from use of accessibility tools, whether it be learning Braille or training with a cane.

People with low vision can use canes when they feel it is necessary. Examples may include times where they may need extra visibility or extra contact with the ground as they walk. They may choose to use a cane when crossing the street for added safety. Same applies to using stairs. They may bring their cane only to unfamiliar environments or out with them at night. They might feel like using it one day or in one place and not the next. They may have a condition that is not stable from day to day. Overcast weather or dim lighting could make it necessary to pull out a cane. They could simply want to use their cane or decide to leave it at home because they felt like it.

A blind person does not need to a full-time cane-user to be allowed to use one. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. If they need it, they need it. It is that simple. It will be the same with your low vision character.

Characters may also switch up mobility tools depending on what is best for where they’re going and what is accessible to them. For example, someone may use a human guide for extra safety while in a new city.

Why I Want More Mobility Aids in Media

This is just my opinion, but I would like to see more characters using mobility aids blind people use in real life. This helps to normalize use of these tools for people who are not familiar with blindness. This allows blind people representation that is more true to life. It also adds more detail to stories that wouldn’t otherwise be there.

There is also something off about blind characters who don’t use anything, specifically because most portrayals of blindness involve characters who are totally blind. Why are these characters walking around absolutely everywhere with no familiar way to navigate? Why are tools used by the blind community rejected when it comes to stories about blind characters?

I suspect it is because of a few factors:

1. Not knowing how mobility aids work. Another deterrent could be the difficulties of research and, in live-action media, wanting to avoid training usually sighted actors in use of these mobility tools.

2. Not wanting the blind character to seem too hindered

3. Wanting the mobility aid to be cooler or more interesting if it does exist. This varies by genre and the period in which the piece of media is set.

I find it strange that most stories about blind people do not feature blind characters using tools or techniques blind people use in real life. It sometimes feels as if blindness is a decoration writers add to their story without thinking about how it would impact their character.

My suggestion is to consider the amount of vision your character has, along with their lifestyle, and choose a mobility tool that works for them. I know that some of you are writing characters who can technically move through life without using a mobility aid full time. In these cases, it would be fun to see characters who are transient mobility aid users.

Closing - Not Everything About Blindness is Difficult

I hope this post was informative. I know that some of it may feel contradictory in nature, but that seems to be part of diversity of experience people have with mobility aids. Not everything has to be true for your character or will be true to their experience. Additionally, don’t feel pressure to portray the difficult aspects of mobility aids or being blind in public spaces; it is good to have stories where blind characters are treated well by everyone. There are days when blind people have nothing but lovely interactions with others and when safety is not a concern.

While I mentioned some negative aspects of being blind in this post, there are many positives as well. This can include opportunities to meet new people and have conversations. This can mean getting the chance to use cool gadgets other people don’t get to use. It can also mean being able to experience the world in unique and fun ways, such as noticing little details about the world. It can mean appreciating colors, lights, smells, sounds, or sensations. It can also mean cool navigation tools and techniques.

I will post a part 2 soon. It will include information for writers of science fiction, fantasy, and stories set in historical times. As always, if anyone has anything feel free to share. I will add any responses here as edits to this post.

If you found this post helpful, my pinned post has many more links. I accept asks or messages with questions. I also offer beta reading for blind characters.

-BlindBeta

[valaruakars]

Let's Get Physical (Part 7)

Viktor/F!Reader || 6.3k || Modern!AU + Gym!AU || SFW

Bitches hate you for your overzealous approach to supporting your friends and deeply anxious behavior. Viktor is not bitches.

A/N: Omg. We're here. We're back on our bullshit. Thank you to everyone who beta'd and/or provided me free therapy about this for that past um... seven months. Oops. Thank you to everyone who reached out over the (unintentional) hiatus with encouraging comments and asks. I hope you'll understand why I took so long to handle this with care and unpack some of my own issues. Very cathartic. Would recommend.

Part 1 → Part 2  → Part 3 → Part 4  → Part 5 → Part 5.2 (nsfw) → Part 6  → Part 7 (Ao3 Link)

Before you know it, two weeks and a day have passed. They make no palpable difference. 

Except maybe in your quadriceps. 

The same weights you’ve been using feel almost effortless, too easy. You don’t fatigue as quickly into heavy breathing and the urge to cheat yourself a rep or two—not lunging with the dumbbell gripped at one of its wide ends, not squatting while it’s clutched close to your chest. It’s suddenly not enough. 

Nobody’s around to see it, but progress is progress. Turns out, you’ve finally graduated to heavier weights on this lonely leg day you’ve committed to. 

That’s a bit of a misnomer, though. The day is mostly past you now. It’s evening—crisp and wispy, sky like striated fire outside the garage—and as the sun sets, you’re reminded of the late start you’re up against. All because you forgot something. 

A good attitude is optional. A scrunchie you can live without. But your shoes? Leave them forgettably kicked off in two different directions on your bedroom floor and you’re fucked. It’s a small miracle you’re here, dragging around weight plates, setting up a barbell. There was a very real danger of tripping and falling into bed—totally by accident, never to get up again—when you drove home and stomped upstairs to grab them. 

But whether or not he knows it, likely the latter, Viktor keeps you accountable when no one else can. It’s because the only running you truly love is the risk of seeing him, which still requires proper footwear. And for you to leave the house. 

Though by the time you whipped into the driveway and thrust the gear shift into park, it’s empty. He’d left already; you didn’t get to see him off on his reluctant shuffle through the garage. But lucky you—he tends to come straight home after physical therapy. Call it friendly concern that you’re paying attention. 

It’s probably an odd way to think about a friend. You need to work on that. 

Your phone vibrates dully on the padded bench beside you. Nearly knocking your water over in the process, you grab it to find a text from Jayce—the usual culprit. You slide it open, accidentally brushing the top of the screen with shaky fingers. It catapults you to the beginning of your most recent messages before you can read the new one. 

Mon, Oct 10

[Jayce Talis, 5:56am]: Did you leave the back door unlocked last night? [Jayce Talis, 5:57am]: And the pool lights on? [Jayce Talis, 5:57am]: Was Viktor in the pool?

[7:32am]: Holy shit. Good morning. [7:33am]: No, no, and why do you think I know these things??

[Jayce Talis, 7:45am]: Sorry, it’s all good. He’s alive. 

[7:46am]: ???????

[Jayce Talis, 7:49am]: You guys didn’t hang out after I left? 

[7:57am]: Idk if you would consider it that. [8:02am]: But has anyone invited him to cards on Saturday??

[Jayce Talis, 8:17am]: He already said no. [Jayce Talis, 8:18am]: Although… [Jayce Talis, 8:19am]: You could try telling him it’s strip poker. Haha :) 

[8:20am]: Blocked. Reported. Banned. NOT DOING THAT.

[Jayce Talis, 8:21am]: No wait! I was kidding. He’s not a creep :(

Tue, Oct 11

[Jayce Talis, 3:38pm]: Wait did you actually block me? 

[3:50pm]: Yes.

Sun, Oct 16

[Tayce Jalis, 8:00am]: Can I have my t-shirt back today?

[8:31am]: Oh the really old anime one? I left it with some stuff to be washed, ask Viktor. [8:32am]: Maybe the dryer did you a favor and ate it. 

[Tayce Jalis, 8:34am]: Hey! Naruto is timeless.

Today

Tayce Jalis unsent a message

Not fast enough to scroll back down, caught revisiting those unremarkable little messages, and now you’ll never know what Jayce’s butt managed to text you this time. Oh well. Keep your secrets. 

You toss your phone down behind you with a leathery slap. Back to working on the whole stop pining after Viktor thing.

Right, and your legs. 

The barbell bites into your hips as you roll it into your lap and adjust it, the bench presses into your shoulder blades. It’s heavier and harder to manage, but you do, driving down into your heels to get your ass off the ground, hefting yourself into a nice, solid bridge. From there it’s as easy as dipping your hips, which isn’t quite easy at all. No, it’s brutal. 

It burns from your core down to your thighs; has you clenching your jaw, gritting your teeth with the strain. Even your biceps are active, lifting some of the steel-hard pressure off your hip bones. 

You’re so zoned in—no thoughts, head empty except for the number six over and over until it’s seven—that you only hear the hiss of your breath in and out, the hammering rush of blood behind your ears. You don’t hear Viktor come home. 

Not until he’s standing above you.  

He had the heinous metal on metal sound in his old beige car fixed—that grinding, grating death knell in its engine. One of several potentially life threatening reasons the check engine light was always on—maybe still is. And though you much prefer him living, it’s harder to hear him coming over the steady music without paying attention. 

Bad timing for Miss Carly Rae Jepsen on your Upbeat Workout Jams playlist, considering you do really, really, really like him. Him and how he stands at the end of the bench, staring down; how he fixes you with that sliver thin smile, a manila folder tucked under the arm of his long cardigan. 

You seize with embarrassment, frozen on the upswing of your hips. “Hi,” whispers out on the end of an exhale, caught ragged in your throat. 

You can’t do pelvic thrusts in front of him. 

You just can’t. 

It’s bad enough that you’re sweaty in every skin to skin crevice and certainly flushed, t-shirt sticky and legs trembling as they hold your awkward position, but then there’s him. 

He wears that same look much better. On him, it’s healthy color across the cut lines of his cheeks; it’s still-damp curls at the nape of his neck and the jump of his lean throat when he swallows, dry when he must’ve forgotten a water bottle again. It’s suggestive. It’s hot. 

And it’s the endorphins that make you feel that way, surely, more than any affinity for men in gray sweatpants that are far more revealing than they must realize. 

You clear your throat, finding your own parched voice. “Watch your feet,” you warn, on the side of caution, dropping butt and barbell to the ground with a metallic thud. You let your head drop back against the bench pad, staring up at him with the dazed satisfaction of calling it quits. Only for the moment, of course, as you blindly feel around for your phone to turn the music down. 

And good fucking god is what you see unholy. Viktor shifts his weight before you can look away, and the ache in your core redoubles—different, deeper than any lactic acid buildup. Did his pants shrink in the wash or is it really that m—?

Nope! Absolutely not! 

You can tread no further with that thought because, really, there’s no such thing as having a platonic appreciation for your friend’s dick. Not when the friend is Viktor. 

“You’re not finished yet?” he asks. Innocent. Oblivious to your mental struggle out of the gutter. 

Typically you would be by now. Equipment racked, the citrus scent of disinfectant on your hands, picking at innocuous conversation while you walk inside together. How was your day? Did you hear they’re demolishing the old physics building? There’s a guest lecture next month that might interest you. 

“About another thirty minutes,” you breathe, “and then I’ll be done. I’m running behind.”

“Ah, interesting. That looks to me more like sitting,” he says, which is terrible enough to earn an eye roll, and snarky enough that your lips wobble and break into an insurmountable smile.

“It’s called resting, thanks. This would go faster if you stopped distracting me,” you huff, muscles loose, lips looser. 

The little spark of mirth in his eyes, so bright and awake, makes your stomach clench vice tight. “Mm. There’s no rush,” he shrugs, “but… Rio might enjoy a visit.” 

Your smile is skeptical as he pulls the file folder from beneath his arm. “Oh really?” It widens as he starts to fan you from above—chilly in the garage, but you’re still sweating buckets. It’s futile, although he’s sweet to try and help.  

He nods, gravely serious, “She told me herself.” 

You crane your neck unconsciously to let it cool the sweat that lingers there, sighing as little wisps of loose hair billow feather light and tickle your feverish skin. 

He isn’t holding it right, though. His grip is too loose on the edge.

At once, a flurry of white comes raining down on you. It’s instinct that your eyes clamp shut against the onslaught. 

“No, no, no,” he hisses as if begging could stop gravity. 

It doesn’t, of course. 

His papers flutter and scrape across the floor. An unlucky one sticks to the sweat on your scrunched up cheek. He’s quick to dip forward and snatch it back first, the easiest to reach.

You blink off the surprise and snicker, “Oh, how the tables have turned. Who’s the clumsy one now?” Rolling the barbell away over your outstretched legs, there’s nothing in its path to be crumpled beneath the weight.  

But Viktor doesn’t answer with a crooked smile or a quiet laugh, no dry wit to be found. His dark, heavy brows furrow and he insists, “No, just—just let me,” while he crouches to the ground, distributing his weight between his cane and the end of the bench. 

“It’s okay,” you insist, reaching to gather what’s scattered between you, “I’ve got it. No big deal.”

“To you,” he mutters, snatching two away before you can turn them over. Makes him lose balance. He narrowly catches himself before he can veer face first into your spandex lap,, blunt, bony fingers digging into your thigh at the hem of those skin tight biker shorts. It crushes the papers all the same. 

“Top secret nuclear codes?” you tease, drowning his muttered apologies. It sounds stupid and obvious that you’re trying to distract from the fumbling tension when his hand stays put for moments too long. Yours, too, on his shoulder to brace him. 

Just until he’s able to sit himself solidly on the ground beside you. 

He purses his lips, “My work is with reactor cores, not weapons.”

It’s only been a week since you got an impromptu lecture about nuclear fusion in the kitchen. It’s not like you’d forget so quickly. “I know—”

Impatient, Viktor reaches over your lap, too close for comfort. Whatever you were about to say is struck from your train of thought. 

His cardigan drags soft and pilled with wear across your beat up knees. Beneath it, his sweat smells sharp and strangely appealing. It’s fascinating, that draw to something so base and human. It’s unsettling, the way your heart responds like it beats between your legs.

You follow his hand, unabashedly curious, and watch him pick up another overturned paper. Below it, the next sheet is stuck face up to the floor with what you cringe to assume is a drop of your sweat, bleeding the ink of a diagram. Multiple diagrams, actually. 

Of stretches.  

The familiarity sparks excitement. 

By the time he peels up the corner of the page with his fingernail, you’re sure of what you’re looking at. It’s common ground, of a sort; the excuse to end all excuses. 

“These are from the physical therapist?” 

He sighs, sitting back in an awkward fold of spindly legs. Looks wearier, now, with his shoulders collapsed like the exhaustion of going has finally caught up. “Yes,” he admits, because you’re smart and he’s smart, and any other answer would be an obvious lie. 

You’re doing it again—digging your fingers into a soft spot that feels as ripe as it does intrusive. We do not talk about it much, he once said, but it’s hard to stop once you’ve started. You just have to know: “Do you do them?” 

His eyes cut down to the papers in his hands. “When time permits.”

“How often does it permit?” 

“Occasionally,” says Viktor, which might mean somewhere between rarely and never. 

Early mornings, late nights; classes to teach, lab hours to log, projects, papers, and a dissertation that looks done to you, but he laughs bitterly when you suggest it. Still has to find time to eat and shower and sleep, but his eyes are always restless purple and there are wrappers from meal replacement bars scattered around the house, too high calorie for Jayce to be the culprit. 

You wonder what will happen when it all catches up with him. Worse, you worry. 

Beseechingly, you reach out. Your grip is gentle as you take hold of the printouts at their edge. “Can I see?” you ask, not grabbing or pulling or taking, just there and ready. 

His lips form a tight, considering line. “If that is the last of your questions,” he slowly replies. Prickly, but relenting, he lets go before you can ever agree. 

So you don’t.  

His eyes are on you as you flip through the stack—you can feel it as a strange, shy tension like bated breath, watching and waiting. 

Page by page, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Some you’ve even done yourself, but with simple modifications. Hell, bridges are just hip thrusts performed flat on the floor, without the weight. Nothing he’d need help with, which is ideal when you’re not qualified to do anything but make space for him; to emphasize that he’s welcome and wanted, maybe offer up a sweaty-palmed high five if you’re feeling spunky. 

You peel your legs off the floor and resituate, tucking them as your turn to face him, direct in every sense. “You could come do these with us on Sunday mornings after we run, before you get started on work. It would make Jayce happy, and Vi has a really funny way of being encouraging—”

He pulls a face—a nose scrunched up, barely concealed, abso-fucking-loutely not sort of scowl. 

“Or…” you’re quick to try, “Just with me, when I’m here. It’ll take, what—fifteen? Twenty minutes?” 

“It’s a poor use of time,” he says. It’s as avoidant as it is clumsy, with a dismissive edge still dull enough to bruise. 

And that’s because: “You stop and talk to me for longer than that sometimes,” you remind him flatly.  

He sighs sharply, toying absently with the cane laid across his lap. “That is different.” He says it like it’s obvious; like it’s frustrating that you don’t know how obvious it is. 

“Well, what if we could do both at the same time?” you propose. After all, he’s got such a hard-on for efficiency, if that’s what’s stopping him. “I know you’re a good multitasker…”  

His jaw works, trapping his thoughts behind imperfect teeth. 

“And we probably keep this floor cleaner than the carpet…” you prod, because the silence of a man who can and has talked your ear off is disquieting; because you don’t always know when to stop; because this feels like a negotiation. 

“My bedroom suits my purposes just fine,” he says, eventually. 

But you never said which carpet. The thought of him sequestered in there, even for this, is fucking depressing. Arguably disgusting when you’ve walked across that rug and felt the grit of dirt, crumbs, and debris that the pattern hides through your socks. And worse: It’s a choice, so why is he making it? 

Abruptly, the rubber tipped end of his cane meets like against the rubber tiled floor. He pulls himself up on it with difficulty you can’t ignore, but shakes his head when you move to help. The only thing you do is hand him up the battered stack of papers, tucked back into the folder from which they came, when he stands up fully. You won’t hold them hostage, even if part of you wants to. It wouldn’t keep him from leaving, his back to you such a familiar sight. 

You just want to understand, though, if nothing else. To crack him like a cipher.  

Softer, you try: “I wouldn’t judge you.” It’s the last, desperate little thing you can think of. They’re like magic words to you. 

But the problem is: They don’t work on everyone. 

To his credit, his tone isn’t harsh. It’s indifferent, like stating a sterile fact. “This has nothing to do with you,” he says. “I haven’t skipped an appointment recently, and that should be enough.”

Indigence might suit you in those moments you grow a seedling backbone, but it doesn’t suit this. You can’t help it though. His frustration has bled into you, caught like kindling. “Is it?” 

“You and I do not share the same sense of priorities,” he replies, but it’s not an answer. Not really. 

The urge to turn him upside down and shake him until something definitive comes out is overwhelming—so straightforward until he just… isn’t. “If you’re not going to say yes or no, can’t you just lie and say you’ll think about it?” 

He looks you over inscrutably, sitting there in his shadow. “Why would you assume it’s a lie?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you huff. But you do. Experience and a certain friend who actually bothers to text you back have given you the answer. “Jayce says you’re stubborn and I’m starting to think he’s right.” 

Viktor nods conclusively, but doesn’t care to share what’s going through his head. As evasive as ever when he cares to be, just murmurs,“You should finish this.”

And then, for a reason that is simply beyond you, says: “I will see you later.”

But for once, you’re not sure if you want to. 

—

You rap your knuckles against his open door. 

Seriously—who were you kidding, thinking for even a second that you wouldn’t be here, doing this?

Yes, it’s well after eight now and you’re pitifully hungry, but it wouldn’t feel right to leave without saying anything. In writing a note or sending a text, you’d simply be spelling out, ‘I’m a coward!’ in far more words. It’s best, you decide, to be polite and mature and just say goodnight despite the awkward taste in your mouth that is very reminiscent of your own foot. 

And you get to say it to his back, which should be easy. 

But then there’s Rio on his desk like a pissed off paperweight, swimming the foggy side of her holding tank—sorry, prison—without any hope of escape. They’re the angriest, most pathetic wiggles you’ve ever seen. Habitual, given how tongue-smudged and abraded the plastic has become. 

“You see?” he says, gesturing to the sound of her scrabbling in his bright rubber kitchen gloves. “It’s just as I said.” 

“I think it’s more about you ignoring her.” Rio pauses, slipping down the side. Her little face conveys it perfectly: “Father is cruel? Father is… unyielding? Father hates Rio?” 

“No, no… Although, eh, yes, I suppose she does sound like that…” he muses, nodding. “I think she must wonder those things about you, actually.”

Your shoulder hits the door frame, shrugging against it where you lean. “I probably don’t matter much to her.”

There’s a heavy pause, enough for him to breathe in and hold it. Breathe out, softly: “You do.”

And suddenly, you can’t find it in you to leave. Did you ever truly have the will? 

The truth is there on your feet—those perpetually mismatched socks. You’d hoped for this, secretly, else you wouldn’t have left your shoes off at the door.  

It’s warm when you walk in. A space heater that’s been running too long glows electric orange on the floor near his desk. Makes the smell of churned earth and vinegar cleaner that much stronger. And while the clutter is clearly endemic, it seems the fuzzy, stagnant mugs are not. They’re all gone from his desk and the bedside table, replaced by sticky notes, pill bottles, and an avalanche of papers.

You come up and give Rio’s tiny, clawed foot a high-five through the plastic. “Has she been doing this all night?” you ask, looking over. 

Knee on the desk chair for leverage, he’s elbows deep in her tank, rooting those waxen, fake plants back into the substrate with unnatural posture. It’s that stiffness you’ve always noticed—ramrod straight from the mid-spine up. It’s easier to see in profile, in a thin shirt that clings to his back, that there’s nothing visibly forcing it. 

“On and off. She tires quickly now,” he says, arranging a broad-leafed plant near her favorite rocky shelter—scrubbed clean, still damp. “When she was younger, it would go on much longer while I did this.”

“How old is she exactly?” 

His sigh is almost lost beneath the hum of the space heater. He answers, “Fifteen,” in the soft, subdued way of someone who hates to be reminded. 

There’s many things you’re too afraid to ask him. Such hits as: Why did you dig yourself a hole this deep, does Jayce text everyone about you, and would I even stand a chance if things were different? But right now, most of all, it’s how long do geckos live? 

You don’t think you’re going to like the answer. 

Viktor clears his throat. “She’s very, eh… spritely for her age,” he adds, fondly this time. 

You hum a soft sound in agreement, too shaky through the legs to squat down to eye level with her. When you bend your knees to try, you realize you’ll probably never get up again. 

He glances over as you straighten up. “You can sit,” he offers without really saying where. It’s obvious, though. The only option—his rumpled bed, never made, with all its mismatched pillows. One has definitely been stolen from the couch, three are yellowed and missing pillowcases which is… ew. 

But you’re not going to refuse. You’d like to hold Rio, after all. 

You swallow hesitation and tuck yourself onto the end of his mattress, balancing on the firm edge. At least the intrusive thoughts are fleeting. Only briefly do you wonder what he thinks about at night. What he does. What he wants for.

Not you. That’s for sure.

Your elbows lock out where you grip the ridged edge of the bed. The weight of things gone unsaid, of things left unresolved bears down; it prickles warm at the back of your neck and you can’t stand the waiting silence. 

“So…” you drawl, letting your voice fill the void.

“Hm?”

“Are you going to hand her to me now, or…?”

“Ah, no, I’m finished,” he says over his shoulder. “She needs to go back in the tank.”

“Then why am I sitting here?” 

“Because I have something to ask you.”

Straightforward. Right. You forgot just how terrifying that can be. 

“That sounds just as bad as saying we need to talk,” you mutter, heart twisting into a suffocating, arterial knot. 

“We do, though,” he says, too literal, too preoccupied with placing Rio back in her clean terrarium to notice your soul leave your body—preemptively abandoning ship. 

But he’s merciful, at least. He doesn’t keep you in suspense. 

“I just want to understand at what point you developed such a vested interest in, eh… fixing me, I suppose,” he asks, like wondering what the weather will be tomorrow or what the dining hall might serve for lunch. Conversationally. “Did Jayce put you up to this?”

Your eyes narrow in thought. “No…?” you reply. It comes out too shifty as you toy with the serged edge of his blanket. Jayce put you up to something alright, though that hardly matters anymore. But, in a way, does this count? Would Viktor think that this counts?

“A sure answer, please.”

Fuck. 

“It’s just that I would lump that in as part of being friends with you—except I’d call it, y’know, caring?” You draw your leg up onto the bed, closer, tucking your foot beneath your thigh. “That’s all I’m trying to do.”

Viktor flips the grate down with a finality that lights your nerves like a beacon to flee. “So he asked you to do what, exactly?” 

“Nothing,” you squirm. 

He pivots, solidly on two feet. Doesn’t sit down in the desk chair quite yet. “It wouldn’t be the first time for this behavior, and, with you, I’m sure it was not the last. Do you know that he once provided Caitlyn with a written list of topics not to bring up to me?” 

You shrug, “He’s a good friend...” 

Now you’re staring down the barrel of being just the opposite—of throwing Jayce under the bus. 

“What did he ask?” Viktor presses.

And you break. Made brittle by your desire to put him first, of course you do.  

“All he wanted was for me to give you a chance, which was pretty reasonable after you called me annoying—” that word comes out with a bite to it you didn’t intend; sensitive, sore, “—but I never told him about that. He’s just… worried about you in his own way, I guess.” 

Viktor quietly raises an eyebrow, and that’s all it takes to snap you into fours next. It practically falls out of your mouth: “He keeps texting me to make sure you’re still alive. Sometimes I think he’s joking, but then one time he told me he had a nightmare that you drowned in the pool, so part of me actually thinks he’s being serious.” 

“He is.” 

“Wait, really—?”

“Is that why you come so often now?”

Wednesday. Friday. Sunday. Monday too, sometimes, if the day before hasn’t left you sufficiently sore enough. The pain means progress. It must.

“Well, no,” you blink, “that’s mainly because I have a lot to work on.”

“Do you?”

You gesture to yourself. All of you. The way your stomach folds and rolls and fucking exists unappealingly beneath your sweatshirt when you slouch—it could be better. The way your thighs pancake out, smushed against the bed—not getting better, but discipline and toning might shape them into something near desirable. “Yeah, obviously.”

He treads lightly. “I… would not say it’s obvious.” But his eyes are cast down as he carefully removes his rubber gloves and discards them in a bucket of cleaning supplies. He’s not rude enough to agree, but you worry, in all those moments you can feel him looking at you, that he’s thinking it. After all, he’s willowy, sharp and elegant in a way you’ll never be. Soft and fleshy. Never quite right. 

“And that’s because you’re, what, zero percent body fat?” you sigh, gesturing to him incredulously. “I’m not implying that’s healthy or ideal—honestly, I’d share some if I could—but…” Your hands curl to your chest, clasped tightly in one another when there is no one else to hold them through the indignity of admitting, “I’m the one that needs fixing. Not you.” 

He was right, though, when he said it earlier. This isn’t about you. “Where did you come up with that, anyways?” you ask. 

The lines on his face, those deep, concerned creases between his brows, spell out what the fuck. You don’t understand what’s so hard about that question—what he can’t figure out, why the confusion lingers in his eyes. “This… This is the second time you’ve offered to help me.”

“I was trying to be supportive. Encouraging, even—that’s also a good word for it.” 

“It all feels the same,” he tells you, taking his turn to sigh. “Which is to say patronizing, sometimes.”

And that was not what you intended. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be a saint or anything. That’s not entirely it.” You fight the turtle-like urge to retract into your sweatshirt, which would arguably be more stupidly embarrassing than admitting: “I was just looking for… common ground, I guess. Ways to hang out without dragging you out with us.” 

“Are we not doing that right now?”

“Sure, but I feel bad about it.” There’s the silvery peek of his computer, buried on the desk. “I’m keeping you from more important things.” 

“You’re not,” he says—no, placates, but the disbelieving press of your lips makes him reconsider. “Well, eh, perhaps, but I can manage. I’ve dealt with Heimerdinger’s high expectations and, mm, sadistic deadlines for years. The weekends work well to make up for lost time, and there is all night after this too.”

“You should sleep.”

“I can’t. Not well.”

You give a creaky little bounce—not much of one, no spring to it—to demonstrate: “Maybe because your mattress feels about as hard as sleeping on the ground.” 

“One problem of many, yes.”

You count yourself among them, in one way or another. You’ve been leaking these awful insecurities all night. 

Is it any wonder that another slips? 

“It’s just—the last thing I want is to bother you. Everyone, really, but especially you.” 

“Is that because of me?” he asks quietly. “Because of what I said?”

Oh, you’ve carried this around since day one. Let it color his tone and his words and his actions. Let it haunt you trying to reach for others, the freshest nick in a line of scars that was never stitched properly. That’s what you get for letting all those little anxieties run wild with knives in their hands. That’s what you get for forgiving him before he ever asked for it, as if that would make things easier. For you. For him. For everyone. 

It hasn’t.

Viktor crosses the three steps between you on bare, nobby feet. His weight dips the bed beside you ever slightly, like he’s hardly there. But he is, by the way his leg bumps your knee, and you scoot over to give him space.  

He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, grasping at some distant thread. They’re as awkward as he is in saying, “I can’t recall what I meant at the time, but it… it wasn’t that. It would’ve been fine if you thought less of me for it, but not of yourself.” 

You shake your head. “It’s—don’t worry, it’s not all you,” you say, softening his guilt, perhaps at your own expense. “I have a lot of anxiety, and that’s a long running thing, okay? It’s mostly… me.” 

“That’s… good to know. About you, I mean. Not that it’s—it’s good. Just, eh, helpful to know.” 

“I guess that’s generally the benefit of being upfront about things,” you shrug as if it comes easy. 

“I would prefer that, I think.”

It doesn’t, but the light, fizzy feeling of relief makes you want to try, if only to have more of it. Maybe more of his shy little smiles too. This time with more intention, and less leaky word vomit. 

“Okay…” You shift to face him fully, mirroring his posture in leaning back on your hand for support. “Then in no uncertain terms, I want you to know that I’m not trying to fix you.” Been there, done that, got the shitty dunce hat. People don’t change unless they want to. You know that. “I just wish you were kinder to yourself, but that’s on you. So if you ever decide you want better, whatever that means, I’ll be there. Only if you want me to and only on your own terms—no physical activity required.”

“I might want to consider it, you know…” His voice lowers, softer and softer with hesitation, to the point that you find yourself leaning in. Noticing, as he seems to have noticed, that your hands are a hair’s breadth apart. “As a future prospect, if anything. But you have to understand, I don’t enjoy being watched.”

“I get that.” 

“Mm, no, I imagine people stare at you for very different reasons,” he mutters. “Not pity. Envy, perhaps.”

“I promise, most people don’t want these thunder thighs,” you huff, resisting the urge to slap them like a used car salesman. These babies can fit so much soul-crushing insecurity, which is a terrible pitch, really. The occasional bouts of self-loathing are not your strongest selling point.

He lets out the strangest bark of a laugh, so dry it’s almost ugly, as if he can read your mind. 

But you didn’t mean to derail. “Sorry, continue.” 

“Right…” Viktor draws in a long breath, quiet for a moment before he figures out how to word it. “It’s as simple as that I would rather go unseen. It’s very, ah, personal. And painful, sometimes.”

You think of the age old adage: If it hurts, don’t do it. “Um, not a doctor, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be?” 

“So they say,” he nods pensively, eyes ticking over some distant thought, maybe a memory. “It wasn’t like this before. The discomfort wasn’t… serious. That’s how I was able to ignore it for so long.”

“Ignore what?”

Not the brutal slam of the garage door across the house, for one thing. The pictures on the wall must be hanging crooked now.

Viktor sits straighter—if that’s even possible—and calls out: “Jayce?”

Footsteps—softer, distant.

His eyes snap back to yours. “It’s been a week since he’s come home,” he tells you in a quick whisper. “Mm, well, in the evening. He’s here in the morning—”

“To work out at the ass crack of dawn? I know.”

“You were invited?”

“He knows better than to think I’ll get up that early. I saw on his Instagram.”

Footsteps—louder now.

Viktor nods sagely. “Ah, yes, the stories. By my count, he has written, eh, ‘rise and grind’ forty three times since the first of the year.”

“That’s…” Your math isn’t great but, “More than once a week,” you whisper back, on the cusp of giggles as Viktor nods. And then, it hits you. “Wait—”

But the footsteps have stopped. 

And instead, there’s Jayce’s stoop-shouldered figure braced in the doorway. He sniffles loudly.

He’s still dressed in the khakis and blue button down he wears to work—rumpled, sleeve cuffs smeared darker. His eyes have that red, raw, burning swell of someone who's tried very hard not to cry, and failed spectacularly. 

Viktor finds the words you’re looking for with immediate precision. “Has something happened?” he asks, voice tight, hand tighter on your shoulder as he leans around you to look his roommate over. “Jayce?”

They spend a lot of time apart. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that they’re best friends too. 

He swipes at his nose as it runs into the raw little divot above his lip. Beyond sadness, there’s a guilty cast to his dark, hazel eyes, turned down to the floorboards, but you can’t find your voice to tell him that this isn’t what it looks like. 

“Are you… injured?” Viktor tries again.

Jayce shakes his head. No. 

“Is your mother alright?” 

“She’s fine,” he rasps. “Um… Can I just—?” he asks, gesturing weakly to the two of you.

Which you think must translate to: “You want to come sit?” 

“Yeah.”

Viktor’s of course comes without apprehension, without judgment. Only with the apparent surprise that he even needed to ask. 

But Jayce, in several long legged strides, doesn’t come sit. No, he collapses face first onto the bed behind you, all broad, shaking shoulders and quiet sniffles seeping out from behind his arms. They hide his face and nothing else. Hands curling, clenching into his shirtsleeve, there’s the thick band of a tan line striped across his middle finger. 

You turn yourself around, scooching closer, folding up cross-legged to face him. 

You’ve never seen him like this—laid so low. A sweat stain blooms dark at the small of his back, up between his shoulder blades, but sweat is sweat and Jayce is Jayce. You reach out to rub his back despite it.  “It’s alright…” you whisper. Feels like putting band-aids on a bleeding heart, but it’s all you have. 

Soft cotton weave catches the peeling skin of old blisters as you soothe your hand in circles. His shirt leaches the vetiver smell of cologne, but somewhere beneath it, there’s an elegant, cloying perfume still lingers. It’s no secret where he spends most of his time these days. 

You meet Viktor’s searching eyes and mouth: Mel. 

He nods gravely as if to say he drew the same conclusion.

Say something—that’s your next silent suggestion, canting your head toward Jayce. 

But instead, Jayce takes a deep, wet, shuddering breath and asks, muffled into the mattress, “Can… Can we go to Taco Bell?” 

“Sure…” you murmur. He could’ve asked you to drive him two states over to bury a body and you would’ve agreed just as thoughtlessly. Anything he needs. “We’ll take you.”

He doesn’t move. Just sniffles at a prompting little scritch to the nape of his neck, where his hair fades out to shadowy, peach-flesh fuzz.

So you ask, “Do you want to go change, and then I can drive us?”

“Can I just have a minute? Please?”

“Why?” demands a perplexed Viktor, still soft spoken. Desperate for an answer that isn’t made of cobbled assumptions; blunt in its pursuit. 

And worried. You can tell that he’s worried. 

As if you’d been the one to ask, the personification of wet, doleful misery lifts his head and looks up at you. His face is a ruin of dark, clumpy lashes and tear-tracked skin. His lip wobbles, the pressure of withholding little sobs building, building, building. But speaking it aloud makes it real. Speaking it aloud breaks the levee. 

“I think we just broke up,” he finally whispers. 

And cries face-down for another hour after that.

[critter-rarepair-reccs]

Welcome to Critter Rarepair Reccs!

Hey y'all! Welcome to Critter Rarepair Reccs, a recommendation list aimed at fics written for ships that are largely under-represented, appreciated, and loved in our fandom! Now, let's address the elephant in the room first; rarepair is a misnomer here, knowingly. Some of the ships eligible to be recc'ed on this list might not be ones you'd consider a rarepair! So, the more proper welcome would be-

Welcome to Critter Underloved Ship Reccs

For brevity's sake, the URL is staying, though.

Now, it goes without saying, but before we get into the details here, let's get one thing clear: this blog is dedicated to spreading love and appreciation to fanworks and their creators. Ship hate of any kind will not be tolerated and will result in a block.

With that said, let's talk about the criteria for an underloved ship and why we're defining it the way we are.

Definition & Explantion

There is one qualifier for a ship to be eligible for this list: less than 100 fics were written for it and posted to Ao3 during 2023.

We landed on this metric for a couple of reasons. Firstly, it casts a very wide net for pairings while still narrowing the field a fair bit. The gulf of works between flagship pairings, endgame pairings, and some of the larger side/non-canon pairings is significant. Secondly, we wanted to take a look at how the fandom is currently, which is why we pivoted away from using the Wildflower System ( @cr-summer-wildflowers ) of excluding any pairing with more than 500 fics total. There are a number of pairings that were extremely popular at one point in time, but these days get far less love and attention. Let's take Widofjord for example. They have almost a thousand fics total and were in the Top 10 relationship tags for Critical Role on Ao3 for a long time. But last year? Only 27 fics were written for them. They have, functionally, become a rarepair.

So, to be fair to ships that exist in that same, nebulous space, we're looking at totals from last year, not lifetime.

For illustration purposes, here are charts (compiled by the wonderful @spottedenchants ) showing how many fics were written for each PC/PC ship last year.

Ineligible Ships

Which ships, then, don't qualify under that definition? It's not a terribly long list. PC endgame relationships, primarily, a handful of non-canon pairings, and some prospective endgame ships. For simplicity's sake, we'll break them down by campaign.

Campaign 1: Perc'ahlia, Vaxleth, Pikelan, Perc'ildan

Campaign 2: Shadowgast, Beauyasha, Fjorester, Widomauk

Campaign 3: Imodna, Dorym, Ashrym

If one of these pairings is secondary or background to a fic, that's alright! But the fic shouldn't focus or center on them. It's also worth noting that polyamorous ships that include one of these pairs are also alright! Shadowidomauk, for example, only had 61 fics written for it last year, so they're in the clear! The same goes for Dashrym, as another example, as they've only ever had 36 fics written for them.

It is also worth noting all accepted submissions must be respectful of character’s canon sexualities; for example, we will not take fics that feature an M/F pairing of a lesbian character, even if said pairing fits the “rarepair” criteria.

The caveat to the above would be queerplatonic fic! There will be an option on the submission form to specify, to avoid confusion due to Ao3’s lack of a designated QPR relationship tag!

So when does the list open for submissions?

Very soon! February 7th, next Wednesday! The opening theme with be Fluff, and that list will be posted a week later, on Valentine’s Day, February 14th! I hope we’ll see you then! 🩷

[overshelter]

REVIEW: Case File Compendium/BingAnBen/BAB

WARNING: Contains SPOILERS, so beware!

BAB was a trip.

It has a very good pace of world development until about halfway through. After that it gets a bit, hm, stagnant. But it's not totally disappointing, it just doesn't give you that extreme anxiety to know more about the investigation and the whole criminal organization of the Mandela Plan. Besides, I thought the whole science fiction thing was a bit of a misnomer. I think Meatbun faltered a little there and could have been more careful. Perhaps it lacked a certain stimulus, I don't know.

Well, apart from what I've said, what I liked most was undoubtedly the emotional and mental work. Especially Xie Qingcheng.

His whole vision of himself as a person, of the world and how he had a vision, a future in which he saw himself as disposable, only to end up as someone who thinks: "I'm wanted, I'm remembered, I'm loved" really enchanted me.

The analogy of him being a patched-up teddy bear that nobody would want got to me so much! Especially in the narration of his past, how he felt like an imposter when he came back and got that reaction from Xie Xue.

For this reason, until now, after reading the entire novel, chapter 132 remains my favorite and the one that got me the most. That "thank you for coming back alive" from He Yu was something Qingcheng always wanted, but could never have. Knowing that he was right to fight, right to persist in living and how happy he made someone in his life by not giving up and undergoing treatment with RN-13, was... beautiful. Really.

He Yu made him think that his life still had value, that despite being a patched-up teddy bear, someone still wanted and cherished that teddy bear, even with all the cuts, patches and replaced parts. That teddy bear still brought comfort and could still be loved.

AND THAT'S EVERYTHING TO ME! BAB CHAPTER 132, I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!

Okay, okay. Moving on.

I also really liked the work with He Yu, even if I thought that the author faltered in some areas, but in general he's my baby dragon who makes me tap my feet with how adorable he can be, especially in the extras! And, sir! I love, LOVE how disgusting He Yu can be! He's totally a young master, never stopped being one!

Concubine He and Dr. Xie really do have complementary personalities, and I firmly believe that, even if they tried, they wouldn't feel complete with other people. They were meant to be together! And, like, in every way!

What He Yu lacks, Xie Qingcheng fills and vice versa. I strongly believe that these two argue a lot and have fights over ridiculous things. And that delights me, as I'm sure they'll be in a loving mood by the end.

IN SUMMARY!

Case File Compendium/BingAnBen/BAB is a good choice of reading for those who like the "mental, investigation and fiction" theme. I recommend it if you've checked the triggers/tags and like a "love/hate/HORNY" couple KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

[good-to-drive]

Do you think that George and John would have fixed their relationship had John lived past 1980? Because I don't.

I'm probably the wrong person to ask about this because in general I'm not a fan of speculating about what a person would or wouldn't have done had they lived. One of my favorite pieces of advice I ever got was when I was tutoring disadvantaged students during college (the best job I've ever had) and my supervisor told me potential is unknowable by definition. Meaning it's just as misguided and counterproductive to say someone has a lot of potential as to say they have no potential, because that's just not how that word works. Partly because people are dynamic and changeable but also because there are recesses of our character that no one, including ourselves, can be aware of.

So I truly don't know what would have happened between them, and I don't think you know either if I'm being totally honest. But, to throw all that out the window and speculate anyways, I think the most realistic answer is: Possibly.

I think it's fair to say that John and George were both highly mutable individuals, and that of the four beatles they spent the most time and energy trying to understand the self and achieve some kind of self awareness and personal growth (even if those attempts were sometimes misguided -- I'm looking at you, primal therapy). And I think in this case their mutability is both a complicating factor and an indication that reconciliation really was a true possibility for them. 

John was making enormous strides in his mental and emotional health at the time of his death, and it's entirely possible that might have led him to feel differently about George over time, or to simply decide he didn't want to put energy towards being angry at him anymore. (Not to equate letting go of anger with being adapted/self-aware – just that that’s one way growth can manifest, it’s definitely not the only one or the best one.) 

For his part, George was very vocal both musically and irl about all the ways he felt he needed to change/grow, though of course whether he ever got there is a difficult question to answer. His views on forgiveness are really interesting here (and sometimes a little magnanimous, tbh) but one thing that initially surprised me is that Paul credits George with convincing him to forgive Yoko.

(Which I guess just surprised me because I always believed the conventional wisdom that Paul is the sweetie and George is the cranky guy, but obviously that's a very limited snapshot of both of them.)

Anyways, to me the fact that George was putting time and energy towards learning to love Yoko implies that he may have been hoping or wanting to relearn his love for John as well (if he hadn't already.)

So I do think it’s possible that at some point in the last 40 years they’d both have been in a mental space to want to interact positively with one another again. It's not something that was guaranteed to happen, and I don't think we can even fairly say it was probable or improbable because that implies a level of knowledge of their souls that no one has or has ever had, but it's not outside the realm of possibility.

On a related note, another thing I've found kind of profound in analyzing the beatles (or anyone) is the line “The wounds of childhood do not heal” (Maryse Condé, Crossing the Mangrove.) Which is to say that the pain we experience as children shapes us so profoundly that every experience we have as adults is seen through the lens of that pain, and we reenact our childhood and our childhood family systems again and again without healing.

Now, in the case of the beatles, I think it’s a little blurry what constitutes childhood and what constitutes a family system (“family” system being a misnomer because every close collection of people has the tendency to form a system). Because they found each other as adolescents, and went through a life changing and arguably traumatic experience at a very young age that no one else could ever understand, the system they formed shaped them very powerfully and the wounds it instilled probably never healed, either. 

I guess that's my way of saying that the four of them had kind of an extended adolescence, and they continued to reenact the system they built as adolescents in order to survive the insanity they were living in well into adulthood.

Since George was something akin to a forgotten child in this system, and Paul was something akin to a golden child, (both of which are miserable, horrible ways to live, btw – this trend of using golden child to mean “spoiled” is the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever seen and also incredibly destructive to people who have actually experienced that trauma) those two really did have a tendency to be at odds with one another throughout their entire adult lives.

(Obligatory reminder that this is wild speculation and I'm not their therapist, or indeed any kind of therapist at all.)

But I think it’s that (and the fact that we tend to analyze anyone who touched Paul’s life purely through the lens of Paul) which tends to make people think George was fundamentally opposed to forgiving people who’d hurt him or allowing systems to adapt over time, even if that assumption doesn't really bear out in any of his other relationships. And, obviously, it's a little tricky to try to transplant the Paul/George relationship onto the John/George relationship and equate or even compare the two, because John played a very different role in the system and was a very different person from Paul.

Also, the fact that the wounds of childhood do not heal absolutely does not imply that we'll always be a slave to them. Crossing the Mangrove is an amazing book about decolonization and intergenerational trauma but one of its most powerful themes was the idea that we can continue to build ourselves and build our world in the shadow of enormous pain. And we'll always be informed by that pain, but being informed isn't the same as being defined.

All this is just to say it's very hard to anticipate what kind of changes John and George would have undergone in the last 20-40 years and whether those changes would have brought them closer together (or, if not closer together, would have encouraged a sense of acceptance towards one another.)

I also think there’s a conversation to be had about whether rebuilding that friendship would have actually been for the best for their mental and emotional wellbeing (a LOT of children from toxic family systems ultimately come to find that sorting through the pain isn’t worth it for the chance of reconciliation and that’s okay), but this is already way too long lol. 

Anyways, thanks for the ask and sorry this turned into such a novel!

[prince-liest]

First off; I LOVE 666!!! 'Multi-series hard kink/edge play pwps (though I'm with you on the 'without plot' being a total misnomer) that are actually in depth psychoanalysis of characters and complicated relationships' is one of my favorite parts of any fandom ( I'm being specific with that because no really for years in a lot of fandoms there's been that one ((or 2)) series that like. Will stick with me forever and make me think about sex/intimacy/myself differently. And your fic is 100% that for HH). I have a lot of squeeing about a lot of it that I hope to be able to coherently comment about at some point but for now!!!!

I was wondering if there was specific purpose behind where certain scenes take place? Like if they're at 'Vox's place' or 'Alastor's place'? because I thought there was a pattern of when Vox is (or ends up) subbing it's at his place (where he would feel safer and therefore more comfortable being vulnerable maybe) and vice versa with when they're at the hotel. But looking back at it to write this maybe I'm making that up? Because they just mostly do take place at somewhere of Vox's? Because I guess Alastor did end up 'going home' at the end a lot. In which case is there specific reasoning behind them not being at Alastor's place as often? (Does he just have less privacy at the hotel lol?) Idk I thought I was getting something, especially with that 'we're at the heart of your territory' line in part 8??? The more I type into this rambly chatty ask the more I think I was just overthinking. But it stood out to me anyway. ANYWAYS. *Finally pauses to breathe*

I really appreciate your series and I love your interpretation of these two weirdos relationship!!! Every snippet and every update I see drives me crazy!!! Thank you so so much for all your work!

Ahaha, I'm so glad to have written that fic for you in this fandom! Someone left a tag on one of the art posts for 666 recently that said "can't wait to see what emotional revelation unsafe kink will lead to this time" and it's. Pretty on point for the series, ehehe. With the likes of Alastor and Vox, it's really hard to dive into any form of intimacy without, like, emotional repurcussions, and that's my favorite thing to write! Thank you so much!

As for your question: To be perfectly honest, there's no specific pattern behind which location I choose for a fic as far as their roles are concerned! They mostly take place preferentially at Vee Tower because Alastor doesn't want to invite all the fuss and bother of Vox's...everything...to the hotel until much later in their reacquaintence. It's much easier to decide that he's done with whatever's going on and to dip out of Vee Tower than it is to have to remove Vox from the hotel (or, well, at least in theory: he portals Vox back into his own bed pretty easily after their night of drinking, haha).

Alastor inviting Vox over for drinks is a sign that he's actually, like, opening up a bit in certain ways by actually inviting him into his living space. Previously they'd mostly only been at the hotel transitionally, and during the second time they slept together, which is also the first time Alastor actually slept with Vox for reasons other than "for the meme", and was looking for a more comfortable, controlled environment to try this new thing in. (And also gave fewer shits about kicking Vox the fuck out without a second thought.)

In a way, the locations follow the general pattern of Alastor's emotional evolution throughtout the series: he's fine with it being at his place at first because he feels more secure and doesn't give a shit about Vox; then he transitions to being more careful and shutting Vox out of his personal space; and now he's slowly gotten to the point where he's comfortable inviting Vox in on occasion.

Alastor's opinion tends to matter more between the two of them as far as location is concerned, so it's mostly down to that, plus occasionally me thinking, "Hm, this episode would be cool to do in blue shark tank mood lighting," hahaha.

[theweirderstuffblogdontlook]

sequel to > this comic < Bob may be a jealous and possessive (self proclaimed) boyfriend, but he knows when he'd be beat. (And he may be many things, but straight is not one of them XD ) Like he could probably take on someone with a chainsaw, maybe a shotgun if he was lucky, but both at the same time being dual wielded by a hot badass?? A man has limits!

Seriously tho, i feel like i outdid myself with this. Bob really do be out there being the funniest yandere boyfriend without even trying.

Like how does a guy end up with Bruce Campbell and Weird Al freaking Yankovic as his main romantic rivals? Except Bruce Campbell is a misnomer cus he's actually jealous of the fictional character Ash Williams. Dude is basically like a jealous boyfriend who learned his girlfriend has a crush of Goku from Dragonball. and rather than coming to any sort of reasonable conclusion he thinks "Oh no! I couldn't win a fight with Goku from Dragonball, he could totally steal my girlfriend!" and then get sad about it X,D Which is also kind of a misrepresentation because the guy is too bisexual to even get proper yandere murder jealous if the potential rival is too attractive XD Like Bob is so funny in a yandere boyfriend tropes way cus usually those kind of characters are like these kind of obsessive mad genius rich guys who have been stalking their target for months and is almost always one step ahead. Meanwhile here Bob is, doing stuff like taking almost a month of living together to even learn his girlfriends name despite being head over heels in love, being a broke ass deadbeat who had to basically kidnap her in her own home and cajole her into buying groceries and new clothes for him; and thanks to the target of his affections being a antisocial, asexual, aromantic shut in, having no former boyfriends or romantic interests of hers to see as competition, he ends up taking out his possessive jealously on celebrities she kind of likes. Except he can't even pull that off because he is simultaneously too intimidated by, and would also be gay for Ash Williams. It's all just too silly.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Today’s food is the product of a highly industrialized, oil-fueled, climate-changing machine built largely on lax environmental standards, loose animal welfare rules, nonexistent antitrust enforcement, and enormous government subsidies to deliver food that is plentiful, cheap, and increasingly harmful to the people who consume it and the rural communities that produce it. And don’t look to organic farms, small farmers, or local food to slowly but surely overtake today’s industrial food juggernaut. Even with the USDA widening its formerly sacred organic standards to include such wildly nonorganic practices as hydroponic fruit and vegetable production, total organic sales in 2022 totaled only $60 billion, an almost invisible drop in food’s $2.4 trillion bucket that year. Small-acreage organic farms—the farms most Americans envision when they think “farmer”—exist in spite of the USDA’s loosening standards, not because of them. American agriculture is shot through with contradictions. For example, every farmer knows that good weather and superb crops usually mean low prices and lean times. Another relates to how farmers dislike, discount, and dismiss “government” but rarely acknowledge it as their moneybags partner. (Uncle Sam sent U.S. farmers over $90 billion from 2018 through 2020.) Ethanol, too, is a massive paradox—some say fraud—that will claim one-third of the 2023 U.S. corn crop, at an estimated value of over $30 billion, even as one-in-four new cars sold in the United States is now electric, and at least seven states have banned the sale of gas-powered cars after 2035. The biggest paradox in American agriculture is Congress’s Farm Bill itself. The soon-to-be-enacted five-year update, the 2023 Farm Bill, will cost an estimated $150 billion per year. Even the common term “Farm Bill” is a misnomer: over three-quarters of the bill’s budget is devoted to SNAP, the nation’s largest food assistance program, which is a poverty relief program that also benefits the food industry. The rest of the budget goes to crop insurance subsidies, federal research grants, green energy initiatives, export subsidies, soil conservation, beginning farmer loans, and hundreds of other never-heard-of giveaways. This part of the budget often helps the very well-off: large agribusinesses. The bill is never imagined as a way to reverse the concentration of control into fewer and fewer hands. Few measures, if any, will slow the demise of rural America. Few, in fact, ever have.

[missamyrisa2]

Can tickle torture ever be SFW? As that is what i feel like is my preference. Just dunno if thats a thing

to an extent sureee I mean, it's not exactly a misnomer but I'm sure none of us would want to be seen at work watching the Don Turtelli tickle torture clip, even though it's on youtube and is totally safe for all audiences.

With that in mind, SFW tickle torture for me is things like ren faire tickles where you are stuck in a situation and tickled on spots such as your sides and feet and underarms fully clothed and usually with minimal direct contact ~ feathers and brushes and such are used more than fingers.

Or maybeeee and this is just off the top~ you're fortunate enough to be cast in a local community players production with your gorgeousssssly hot crush who happens to be playing an over the top flamboyant villain ~ and oooh there's a scene where you, the scrappy sidekick character is captured and taken to their hideout for interrogation and torture. They can't possibly have real torture on stage sooo the director came up with tickle torture ~ and being such a fan of the visceral arts, asks if you'd be okay with it being actual tickling and not acting~ sooo there you are, on stage strapped to a frame before your ticklehotttt crush who is smirking sooo wickedly as they throw a big clanky crank to activate their "torture machine" ~ to which the audience gasps seeing four sets of white gloved hands emerge from the darkness behind you~ stagehands who wiggle their gloved fingers threateningly~ only to have the crowd cheer and laugh as those mean hands start tickling you to so much comedic effect~<3

[kanansdume]

I find it hilarious that Bo-Katan says she knew "quite a few Jedi" because I'll be honest, her definition of "quite a few Jedi" is stupendously different than mine.

Bo-Katan knew a grand total of FIVE Jedi. Out of TEN THOUSAND. Five.

And Anakin BARELY counts as having "known" him since she met him all of once for like 2 minutes and as far as I'm aware never spoke a single word to him specifically.

She met Obi-Wan all of twice and the time they spent together probably amounts to about 30 minutes all told.

She worked with Kanan and Ezra in Rebels, but I can't exactly remember any real interactions between her and either of them during that either since most of her attention and scenes were with Sabine. It also lasts all of about a day, MAYBE two at best and then she never sees them again.

So the only one she can claim any real kind of relationship with is Ahsoka and I'm ONLY giving her that because Mandalorian season 2 decided that somehow for some reason they'd kept in touch 30 years down the line enough for Bo-Katan to know exactly where Ahsoka was at that moment.

While I recognize that most people in the galaxy never even meet ONE Jedi in their lifetime, even back when there WERE thousands of them, and so meeting FIVE is something of a feat, it's still hilarious. Bo-Katan has the BAREST of acquaintances with four Jedi and one friendship with a no-longer-a-Jedi. I'm still not sure I'd call that "knowing quite a few Jedi."

Nor would I have made the claim that there was once a time when Jedi and Mandalorians got along "quite well" given that there is zero evidence for her having gotten along "quite well" with most of the people she could be referencing and there have been a bare handful of people who have had "good relationships" with the Jedi before. Not to mention that Bo-Katan was a part of DEATH WATCH, which actively tried to kill Jedi more than once and supported the Separatist side of the war. So if she's referring to the Clone War period as that time when Jedi and Mandalorians "got along quite well" that's... kind-of a misnomer. And if she's referring to the Rebellion era due to Sabine's relationships with Kanan and Ezra, that's STILL a misnomer due to how few Jedi there even are and the subsequent scarcity of ANY kind of relationship between Jedi and Mandalorians.

There is NO part of that dialogue that made ANY kind of reasonable sense, Bo-Katan is just... lying out of her ass, she's GREATLY exaggerating her own history to make herself come off a lot better and the funniest part is that she's doing it to GROGU, someone who arguably could not care less.

[lizbethborden]

Femininity is a lot of work and it’s actually very difficult to pull off. Even the “clean girl” look, which is the visual opposite of the heavy coverage MUA look that’s been popular for a while, hinges on having seemingly perfect skin and a “naturally” flawless look, meaning there is a ton of investment in skincare, etc behind the scenes—skincare being just another arm of the beauty industry of course. The rules and standards of femininity are also always changing; a particular body type has been extremely popular and achievable through readily available plastic surgery and now that it has achieved total saturation, I believe it’s already starting to become unpopular—women getting their BBLs reversed etc.

I think that because of the amount of work it takes to be feminine, plus the deep emotional investment in femininity, it would be a misnomer to label it as “easy”—for the individual feminine woman, it is not. But on a social and cultural level, on the level of media representation and in terms of what kind of otherwise marginalized woman can achieve visibility, fame, or success, yes, femininity is “easy.” It is quickly intelligible. It is considered desirable. It affords access and results in better treatment.

I am not arguing for “pretty privilege,” nor do I think benevolent sexism (i.e. female servers who wear makeup getting more tips) is a good thing. I don't think "pretty" women institutionally oppress others. But I do think that this society promotes those it wants to see more of; that it will help a "pretty" woman succeed before an "ugly" one, and applaud the "pretty" woman much more. This society cannot even tolerate a woman at neutral--a woman with no makeup on, with her skin texture showing, natural hair, braless, simply existing in a physical state that is unaltered.

For masculine and GNC female people, these are the stakes. For many of us, we do not just exist at neutral, which our culture cannot tolerate anyway; we in fact actively cultivate a specific aesthetic or what some would call a gender expression that is in open defiance of feminine norms. That is why it is not, per se, "representation" for e.g. a masc/GNC lesbian or bisexual woman to see an extremely feminine woman in the public eye identifying as lesbian or bi. It can be even more alienating, in fact, than having her identify as straight. She is the easiest version of us to swallow, and we are nothing like her; not only do we not want to be like her, it would take so much active work to deconstruct the image of ourselves we've already built--something we've loved doing--and reconstruct ourselves in her image that it's like an unscalable edifice ahead.

[blindbeta]

hello, I am in the process of writing a romance novel and to be honest, I had not considered the sensitivity of the topic, it was an idea that came from mindfulness exercises. I was struggling with a title and a Facebook group suggested the topic was inappropriate and I should have been more sensitive. Before I proceed I thought I would ask. The story synopsis: set in a future it has been generations since a flu like pandemic resulted in the subsequent generations were born blind. Through advancements in AI, hepatics devices…the human race continues. No super powers or anything is developed…just grit and science. The story is of a woman getting back into the dating world through a series of blind dates. Three dates are not successful due to issues of smell, touch, and sound. Finally connects with blind date number four. But he has a secret, he was born with sight that his family wanted to hide this information in fear of losing him to science research. The characters need to determine how to move forward. As I type this, I feel less confident in myself, but the story itself feels positive and I have really enjoyed exploring characters using only the other senses. Thank you in advance for your perspective.

Thoughts on a Character Hiding That He is Sighted

I want to provide a disclaimer that I cannot say whether or not you should write this, but I can give some thoughts about concerns or suggestions I have. You can decide from there.

The dating idea could be cute. I would suggest expanding on “issues of smell, touch, and sound” to include things like personality, beliefs, and wants out of a relationship. For example, she may want to travel in the future and the date expresses that he would never want to leave his hometown. While people can have compatibility issues revolving around senses, this is not exclusive to blind people. The focus on it may read as shallow or focusing too much on the fact that they use other senses and other less tangible interactions aren’t as important, when compatibility is determined by a various factors.

Additionally, because you are writing a genetic condition caused blindness in everyone, please remember that blindness is a spectrum. While I can go with a genetic condition causing blindness in everyone, I wonder what the spectrum of blindness would be like. For example, is everyone totally blind or can some people see light? Can some people see colors? Are there still other conditions that are worsened by genetic blindness, such as higher eye pressure? How does this influence vision? In the real world, most blind people can see, which sounds contradictory, but not when you acknowledge the spectrum of blindness. You can find various links about the spectrum here.

I mentioned this not because I think readers can’t suspend disbelief for the initial plot, but because of your character who hides that fact that he is sighted.

‘Sighted’ here refers to a person who is not blind. It is a bit of a misnomer, but this is often how blind people differentiate between people who aren’t blind and blind people with residual vision. Although we may jokingly refer to ourselves or others as sighted even if we aren’t. This is a distinction that probably only blind folks will understand.

Anyway, your character is sighted and hiding it. Is he the only one scientists would want to study? Or can there also be trials that people with residual vision can participate in?

The science part also brings to mind a few concerns.

First, the fear expressed by his family, such as losing him to science research, creates concerns of ethics and control in research. Coercion, kidnapping, bullying, and manipulation would all, at the very least, compromise any research. Additionally, this mistreatment is not limited to fiction. While science can be a wonderful tool used with respect and consent, this has not always been the case. If you have him as an unwilling test subject or hint at the possibility, you will need to be prepared to explore that.

The reason behind the research might need exploring as well. Are the scientists concerned with curing blindness or do they engage in research for other purposes? The way blindness is viewed, especially since everyone is blind, is also an element to consider.

In what ways will the world be different if, at this point in the story, everyone was blind for a few generations? How does your fully sighted character navigate the world? How does he feel about his sight? How does he view blindness?

With a story like this, my main concerns involve how blindness is portrayed in terms of avoiding portraying humanity as extra sad because they’re blind. This could be helped by the fact that they have been blind for generations. However, the idea of someone needing to hide being sighted also feels like it could go wrong to me, with him either being met with persecution or overly enthusiastic attempts to use him so that others can become sighted. Either of these options could result in negative portrayals of blindness that aren’t helpful or nuanced enough when we have so little accurate representation in media at this time. So I would suggest avoiding those options if you haven’t already.

[aita-alternia]

aITa for banning my best friend from my hive?

i was injured one (1) bilunar perigee ago. my friend has not been handling IT very well.

he is:

teal.

nine (9) sweeps.

stubborn.

impulsive.

foolish.

the best troll i have ever met.

i am:

yellow.

nine (9) sweeps.

a loser with a smart mouth

unable to defend myself when things get physical.

i enjoyed:

his attention.

his company.

being walked back to my hive.

i did not mind:

the unscheduled food deliveries.

him acting as like he was glued to my side in public.

i only sort of minded:

the overprotectiveness.

that ridiculous mediculler kIT he started carting around.

that most of the messages i have received from him since have been encouraging platITudes.

...but then every time he came to my hive he dITched our plans to help clean and i felt like i had to draw a fucking line.

to clear up some possible misconceptions:

"help" is a misnomer. evidently i have been barred from any actual participation beyond relaxing and giving orders. attempts to make him see reason have been met with several cordial invITations to go fuck myself.

i am not a slob.

yes. i know the stereotype. we all know the stereotype. every troll and their lusus has heard of the yellowbloods on AN EXPLOITATIVE VIEWING OF THE HIVES OF TROLLS WHO DO NOT CLEAN DUE TO THEIR STRONG EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT TO INANIMATE OBJECTS OR VARIOUS OTHER WOES. my hive is not like that. i am not like that.

my respITeblock was by far the worst block in my hive. IT had a very scattered mess which took up a total of 2 square imperial unITs. this represented just 4.9% of available floorspace. the vast majority of this was clothing. the actual garbage consisted of:

one (1) paper bag containing one (1) ITemized record of purchase. one (1) empty burger wrapper. seven (7) left over fries.

one (1) plastic bag containing one (1) empty bottle and one (1) article of clothing i would have given my life's savings to never let him know i owned. (he helpfully retrieved IT for me prior to disposal. cull me.)

two (2) folded slices of absorbency paper.

one (1) unidentifiable book my lusus had eaten a very large hole through.

after he ran out of the larger messes he moved on to the smaller ones. then he started washing my laundry. then he started cleaning the dishes. IT got to the point where i could not so much as leave a dirty nutrITion plateau visible in my meal block wIThout IT becoming an imperial fucking issue. i finally told him to stop coming over. my reasons were as follows:

IT was becoming very obvious from his behavior that he now considers me to be too incompetent for even the most basic tasks. i was concerned my hivekeeping was a factor.

i can not keep up wITh all of the work IT takes to keep the place up to his standards. have you ever tried to maneauver a scourdray after losing a leg? miserable experience.

he has enough going on without cleaning up my messes for me.

i want him to be comfortable at my hive. if i can not make that happen he should not have to be here.

i had hoped things would go back to normal after this but ever since i brought IT up he has been:

quiet.

distant.

terse.

i am very worried i have hurt him. i want to know:

was there a better solution?

how do i fix this?

aITa?

[mariacallous]

“Netflix” was always a bit of a misnomer. In a well-worn piece of Silicon Valley lore, cofounder Reed Hastings once said “there’s a reason we didn’t call the company DVD-by-Mail.com,” noting that the service was always meant to evolve into a streaming platform. In choosing that moniker—rather than, say, Netshowz—the company positioned itself as a place for movies. Flicks, though, have never been its strongest suit.

Not to say that Netflix doesn’t have good movies—each year they pull out at least one or two Oscar contenders—but its series will always be what keeps its 260 million-plus subscribers coming back. Even when their shows get canceled after two seasons. Its first big hits were House of Cards and Orange Is the New Black and if there’s anything on the service making waves right now, it’s the Patricia Highsmith adaptation Ripley (as in the Talented Mr.) or (somewhat controversially) Baby Reindeer. This week, when WIRED went about compiling our list of movies to watch on the service, the pickin’s were slim.

It’s not just Netflix. Right now the best things to watch on almost any streaming service are shows. Warner Bros. Discovery’s Max, despite being the reincarnation of something once called Home Box Office and having a back catalog full of Warner Bros. films, has people frothing over its upcoming seasons of House of the Dragon and The Last of Us. Sure, it has the Dune films, but it’s possible people will keep coming back for its Bene Gesserit spinoff series, Dune: Prophecy.

Disney+ similarly has the entire back catalogs of Marvel, Pixar, and Star Wars, but staked a claim when it launched by offering original series like Andor and Loki. This week, Disney CEO Bob Iger conceded the company “tried to tell too many stories” in the beginning, but that doesn’t mean X-Men ‘97 isn’t one of the most talked about things on the platform right now. Or, consider this, Disney+’s most-watched movie in 2023 was Moana, with nearly 12 billion minutes viewed, according to Nielsen. Bluey more than triples that total with 44 billion minutes viewed. Yes, Bluey is the number one show parents love to play on a loop, but The Mandalorian also beat Moana for minutes viewed.

Netflix, much like Amazon, started from a different place than Warner Bros. Discovery and Disney, because it didn’t, and doesn’t, have a decades-old vault of content. But if the last few years have demonstrated anything, it’s that streaming services want to replace television networks—or turn into them—and that means shows. If anything, streamers’ reimagined made-for-TV movies are a special treat, not the main course. Prime Video’s two-hour feature Road House is alright, but the eight-episode show Fallout is keeping the streamer in the conversation right now.

Nowhere has this been more evident than this week’s upfronts. An annual bonanza during which television networks convince advertisers their airtime is the best airtime (if you think it’s painful to watch Ryan Reynolds try to land a Deadpool joke in a room full of suits, it is), the entire dog-and-pony show has gone through a couple changes in recent years. Last year, as HBO Max was mutating into Max, the events got picketed by striking members of the Writers Guild of America. Netflix canceled its in-person event and went virtual. This year, Netflix, Amazon, and even YouTube showed up. Their arrival was so feared/lauded that The Hollywood Reporter ran a piece about how “an asteroid is about to hit upfronts.”

That didn’t exactly happen, but now that nearly all the major streamers—Netflix, Disney+, Max, Prime Video—have ad-supported tiers, they showed up to come for bigger slices of the advertising pie than ever before. Amazon brought out Reece Witherspoon to announce that Legally Blonde was getting a prequel series tentatively called Elle. The company also announced a second season of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and a new Tomb Raider series. So that’s three shows that used to be movies, or videogames-turned-movies. Netflix touted Stranger Things, Wednesday, Squid Game, and a new show from Mindy Kaling.

Streamers also touted their sports offerings, with some of the biggest news of the week coming from Netflix, which revealed that it would be hosting the NFL’s upcoming Christmas Day football games. Sports have become something of a brass ring for streamers, and Netflix’s move ups their clout alongside Amazon’s Thursday Night Football deal and Disney’s range of offerings on ESPN, which can now be bundled with Disney+ streaming packages. Sporting events aren’t shows, but as streaming services morph into something more akin to cable, they offer more comfortable feeling ad breaks than the ones afforded by films. Some 40 percent of Netflix subscribers are now signed up for ad-supported models and the company has lots of ad-friendly content to give them.

Then there’s YouTube. The company’s Brandcast event on Wednesday trotted out big names like Billie Eilish while also promising that creators, not Hollywood productions, are the future. YouTube is the top streamer in terms of hours watched, and according to company CEO Neal Mohan, it’s “redefining what TV looks like, helping creators reach new heights and using AI to expand creativity.” It also just inked a deal with the WNBA. Mohan, not to be outdone by his colleagues at Google I/O this week, also penned a column for The Hollywood Reporter calling for creators to be eligible for Emmys. Creators, Mohan wrote, are pushing boundaries when it comes to using AI and, if we’re all cool with that, then they should be celebrated just the same.

Creators also provide something no sporting event, no miniseries, no film does: short-form video. As streamers duke it out trying to land the next Big Game or The Bear, younger viewers are already locked into MrBeast and Skibidi Toilet. Maybe it’s time someone in Silicon Valley dreamed up Netskits.