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[vocativecomma]

Slight clarification: the prey is definitely not willing. Like, she wants to be, because she knows she has to be to pass her class, but she completely panics like Maxim does, because she has trauma around being touched and being suffocated. So she's both unwilling and willing, IDK?

And I'm not at all attached to the alien idea. The only plots I can come up with are convoluted ones faiiiil.

So, inspired by "exit interview," I really want to write "disability services" vore, but I'm terrible at fiction, and even more terrible at plotting. My current idea is that the main character is in college and one of her anthropology classes requires her to get eaten by an alien being again and again, non-fatally, of course. The only line I have is "So we're really going to have a conversation about the accommodations I need for you eating me." Anyone want to cowrite, or steal this?

Thats interesting! I dont know that I've seen much in the way of "alien" vore besides the classic glowing innards. One thing i like abt office vore is the overly-professional pred, but overly-professional prey would be good as well!

[vocativecomma]

I'm the author and I'm ridiculously happy that this post is being shared.

[Image: a screenshot of a Facebook status “Awesome Text Status” on a wavy rainbow background. The user has commented on their own status “This is what your blind friends see when you use a colored background right now on facebook. Fb has opted to not bother setting up colored background statuses to work with screenreaders.” The user’s name and photo are scribbled out.]

Attn: FRIENDS!

Those fancy colored backgrounds on FB statuses used to be accessible for screen readers. That is no longer true.

Can you do me a favor and report this as a bug to Facebook? They’re not gonna care about a few disabled people complaining, unfortunately. But if hoards of able-bodied people complain, they might just fix it.

Facebook is already a frustratingly inaccessible platform for disabled people. Please help to keep it being even more inaccessible! And please don’t use those colored backgrounds on your statuses until this is resolved.

Here’s an article with more info.

Thank youuuuu!

[vocativecomma]

https://medium.com/disability-stories/beyond-access-facebooks-automated-image-descriptions-and-disability-justice-5e27698a2fa3#.bz5t8x958https://medium.com/disability-stories/beyond-access-facebooks-automated-image-descriptions-and-disability-justice-5e27698a2fa3#.7gslsue1d

[vocativecomma]

There is something deliciously corrupt about being able to download King's Rising on Bookshare. A book that was once only found in the back corners of the Internet, to be read in whispers in the back corners of train stations, is now on a site that I for some reason associate with wholesomeness.

[vocativecomma]

Yes, yes and yes. I completely agree with this assessment. When I talk to trans people about my dysphoria (I have transability in the reverse), there are so many similarities.

I don't have the best language for this, so bear with me:

It strikes me as odd–or maybe it doesn’t–that so many disabled people react so similarly to transabled people as radfems do to transgender folks. The whole concepts of appropriating space and experiences, all that. Disability is just as nuanced and fluid as gender. It’s neither static nor locked–and I think to rely on such definitions is to give too much credence to a purely medical medical model of disability. Thoughts?

[vocativecomma]

Me: i kinda feel like writing

Stories that nThat's good, because I am in serious DRD withdrawal. I don't know if I can handle it. :peed to be worked on: hey

Me: no not you

[vocativecomma]

If AO3 had an “if you liked this story, you’ll probably like this one” recommend feature, I would probably never leave my house again.

[vocativecomma]

how come you changed the name from gilbert to Weill?

His name is still Gilbert, but his last name is Weill, so that is what Beilschmidt (Ludwig) calls him. I wanted a last name for Gilbert that was similar to canon (from Weillschmidt) but different enough from Beilschmidt.

[vocativecomma]

This is exactly what I love o about stories like yours. Obviously, as you point out, a consensual relationship isn't possible here, given the power imbalance, but it seems like some kind of dialogic interaction is. It gives me such hope that Weill is able to get through to Beilsch Beilschmidt, when he could have so easily disregarded his prisoner's words, even if they are true. I think I relate to these kinds of impossible dialogs, because I spend so much time trying to convince others that even though I am outwardly blind, I have a visual mind. SOmetimes words work, and sometimes they don't.

I am surprised (but very heartened) that Weill's words were able to stop the rape. I'm curious about what exactly it was that he said that caused Beilschmidt to rethink his actions.

I’ll leave it open to interpretation, but I will say that Weill is right: a part of Beilschmidt longs for something he cannot have because the only way he knows how to function is through domination. Now he’s been confronted with that truth.

[vocativecomma]

I am surprised (but very heartened) that Weill's words were able to stop the rape. I'm curious about what exactly it was that he said that caused Beilschmidt to rethink his actions.

I’ll leave it open to interpretation, but I will say that Weill is right: a part of Beilschmidt longs for something he cannot have because the only way he knows how to function is through domination. Now he’s been confronted with that truth.

[vocativecomma]

Das Rote Dreieck, Teil 14

Warnings: sexual content (non-explicit), mention of rape, attempted rape? Perhaps? Anyway there’s violence involved.

…

February, 1945

The nocturnal encounters became nearly a matter of course.  Obersturmfürhrer Beilschmidt no longer hesitated to reach for him, touch him more firmly.  His own hands quickly learned what to do, and did it without asking.

To say he looked forward to it would be too much.  But he anticipated.  It set his teeth on edge, the waiting.  Like the beachgoer who sees the wave coming from miles off but is unable to move, can only wait in dread until it is almost sweet relief when it finally crashes over them, drowns them.  And he did drown, every night, in the horribly wonderful sensations that swooped through him at the officer’s touch.

During the day everything continued as normal.  The work was the same.  The officer gave orders, he obeyed them.  There was no mention, not even an insinuation, of what they would do when night fell.

Keep reading

[vocativecomma]

A post about romantic relationships

so I’ve been in a relationship for 5 years now. And I see a lot of posts about how people think relationships mean having butterflies forever, your heart beating faster when they walk into a room, about cuddling together every night, legs intertwined, that you’d be so happy to live together you’d sleep on a double bed with each other every night.

And its not really like that, at least not to me.

You stop getting the butterflies when you live together. Your heart no longer speeds up when you see them, but instead, everything calms down. When youre in the room with them, you feel calm, and secure. When you cuddle them you feel your heart beat slow, and the sound of their breathing carry you towards comfort. It doesnt feel like a roller coaster anymore, it feels like home.

You don’t sleep curled up with each other every night, legs twisted between theirs so tight its hard to tell where yours begin and theirs end.

Instead, you sleep comfortably, side by side, sometimes facing different directions. But every night, you find yourself scooting backwards on the bed so you bump into them. You snuggle against their arm, or stroke their hair as they fall asleep. There are nights when my boyfriend, in his sleep, reaches around me and pulls me to him, like a child with his teddybear, like I am his comfort.

 In the wee hours of the morning before the dawn breaks, when the world is blue and you see through cracked eyes, you curl into their chest and inhale their scent before drifting back to sleep. 

Kisses aren’t always romantic and firey anymore. But there are so much more of them now. There are cold kisses when you’re eating ice cream in the summer, and sticky kisses over breakfast pancakes. There’s “im leaving now” kisses, and “one more kiss before you go” kisses. There’s sleepy morning kisses before work, when you don’t remember the alarm going off but instead the press of their lips against yours is what brings you into the day.

There’s kisses before sleep, and, you are so sweet with the things you do kisses. There’s kisses because you treat animals so tenderly, and I’m so glad i’m with you and not someone else kisses. There’s quick kisses in the aisles of the grocery store, when its loud and you gravitate together, when instead of having your own personal space and their own personal space, its both of yours together, and you step into their chest to take up less area together. 

You don’t always text each other with confessions of love and care like you used to, because that’s a given now, and you’ve moved on to quirky inside jokes about the life youve built together. You share looks of exasperation and amusement in public, your own little world against the outside one. 

Relationships aren’t always a fairy tale. They’re not always fireworks and sparks, at least, after the start.

But they are a quiet rhythm and hum of love and care. It’s not a fire in your soul, but one in your hearth, keeping you warm and comfortable, comforting you as you drowsily drift into sleep.

And I love that.

[vocativecomma]

Das Rote Dreieck, Teil 11

Okay and we’re back!  Starting a little slow, but I hope I’ll be able to stick to daily updates for a little while again.

…

January, 1946

The figure was small, drawn in on itself.  Huddled against the wall of the barrack for shelter.  With its head covered with the thin gray blanket, it could almost be mistaken for a sack of potatoes.

He approached and sat down next to it, the steaming bowl in his hand making his belly rumble.  He offered it to the figure.

“Here.”

Watery blue eyes peeked out from under the blanket.

“Where did you get that.”

“The kitchens.”

“Funny, I thought you were going to say it simply starting raining stew from the sky.”  A weak smile curved thin lips.  “You know what I mean.  How.”

“Thought you knew by now it’s best not to ask.  Go on, eat before someone else tries to take it.”

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[vocativecomma]

Q: Do I have to kill the snake? A: University guidelines state that you have to “defeat” the snake. There are many ways to accomplish this. Lots of students choose to wrestle the snake. Some construct decoys and elaborate traps to confuse and then ensnare the snake. One student brought a flute and played a song to lull the snake to sleep. Then he threw the snake out a window. Q: Does everyone fight the same snake? A: No. You will fight one of the many snakes that are kept on campus by the facilities department. Q: Are the snakes big? A: We have lots of different snakes. The quality of your work determines which snake you will fight. The better your thesis is, the smaller the snake will be. Q: Does my thesis adviser pick the snake? A: No. Your adviser just tells the guy who picks the snakes how good your thesis was. Q: What does it mean if I get a small snake that is also very strong? A: Snake-picking is not an exact science. The size of the snake is the main factor. The snake may be very strong, or it may be very weak. It may be of Asian, African, or South American origin. It may constrict its victims and then swallow them whole, or it may use venom to blind and/or paralyze its prey. You shouldn’t read too much into these other characteristics. Although if you get a poisonous snake, it often means that there was a problem with the formatting of your bibliography. Q: When and where do I fight the snake? Does the school have some kind of pit or arena for snake fights? A: You fight the snake in the room you have reserved for your defense. The fight generally starts after you have finished answering questions about your thesis. However, the snake will be lurking in the room the whole time and it can strike at any point. If the snake attacks prematurely it’s obviously better to defeat it and get back to the rest of your defense as quickly as possible. Q: Would someone who wrote a bad thesis and defeated a large snake get the same grade as someone who wrote a good thesis and defeated a small snake? A: Yes. Q: So then couldn’t you just fight a snake in lieu of actually writing a thesis? A: Technically, yes. But in that case the snake would be very big. Very big, indeed. Q: Could the snake kill me? A: That almost never happens. But if you’re worried, just make sure that you write a good thesis. Q: Why do I have to do this? A: Snake fighting is one of the great traditions of higher education. It may seem somewhat antiquated and silly, like the robes we wear at graduation, but fighting a snake is an important part of the history and culture of every reputable university. Almost everyone with an advanced degree has gone through this process. Notable figures such as John Foster Dulles, Philip Roth, and Doris Kearns Goodwin (to name but a few) have all had to defeat at least one snake in single combat. Q: This whole snake thing is just a metaphor, right? A: I assure you, the snakes are very real.

“The Snake Fight Portion of Your Thesis Defense” by Luke Burns (via inevitablerecursion)

[vocativecomma]

On taboo themes in fiction

The whole issue of pornographic legitimacy aside:

One of my huge problems with a blanket condemnation of “people who write non-con” or “people who write underage sex,” is the assumption that there’s only one reason that a sexually explicit scene could possibly exist in a piece of fiction: to arouse the reader and uncomplicatedly celebrate whatever sexual activity is taking place. At best, when this mentality does acknowledge the existence of other types of sex scenes, it assumes that the categories “sex scenes that celebrate and arouse” and “sex scenes that problematize and dissect” are mutually exclusive, and that the line between them is clear, easy to draw, and easy to agree upon. 

Say for a moment, that we as a group are going to prohibit the writing and reading of sexually explicit scenes involving rape or underage sexuality. Does the prohibition extend to writing and reading fiction that depicts rape and underage sexuality in order to condemn them or detail trauma around them? If that’s allowed, does it apply to writing and reading fiction that deals with those themes in order to explore the complexities of individual responses to them? What if those responses are themselves morally dubious? If that’s allowed, does the prohibition kick in if any of the characters experiences arousal? If the reader does? Or does it just kick in when the reader perceives that a character is aroused at a point when, according to the reader, they shouldn’t be? Or when the reader senses, through a hundred intangible narrative cues, that the writer’s attitude toward the events in the story aren’t the same as the reader’s?

If you feel that the location of this line is obvious, are you sure that your boundary is the objectively correct one? Because historically, there is a VERY STRONG PRECEDENT that once censorship/taboos around these issues gain a toehold, people will disagree about the location of that line; that they will in fact challenge and attempt to ban any book which includes the issues in question, regardless of whether it does so to glorify them, condemn them, or something more complicated. If you would take issue with any of the following calls to ban or remove books from libraries, perhaps the line is not so clear-cut as you believed (also, more commentary under the cut):

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