on hiatus

[on hiatus]

Honor Bound masterlist

The war against the syndicates is over. Anyone who remains knows to keep their heads down and stay out of the way. Those who don’t risk torture and death.

Isaac grew up training to fight. He has spent the past six years of his life doing everything he can to strike back at the cruel syndicate families that destroyed his life. He and his friends have all been broken by the syndicates, one way or another. The group travels the country sabotaging the vicious Stormbecks, the syndicate that controls the region with an iron fist.

When Sam, the group’s youngest member, is kidnapped and tortured by the Stormbecks’ son, Isaac would do anything to get them back. The ragtag family launches a mission to rescue Sam, and Isaac makes a choice that will shatter all their lives forever.

Honor Bound, Book 1: edited and published with 3 new chapters on Barnes & Noble and Amazon

Editor: @kys-chai-and-books

Honor Bound chapters here

~

Honor Bound, Book 2: edited and published with 5 new chapters on Barnes & Noble and Amazon

Editor: @kys-chai-and-books

Honor Bound 2 chapters here

~

Honor Bound, Book 3: edited and published with 2 new chapters on Barnes & Noble and Amazon

Editor: @kys-chai-and-books

Honor Bound 3 chapters here

~

Honor Bound, Book 4: edited and published with 2 new chapters on Amazon

Editor: @kys-chai-and-books​

Honor Bound 4 chapters here

~

Honor Bound, Book 5: (completed) coming to bookstores in 2023

Honor Bound 5 chapters here

~

Honor Bound, Book 6: (in progress) coming to bookstores in 2024

Honor Bound 6 chapters here

~

Vera: (completed) - an Honor Bound prequel and companion to books 2 and 3 coming to bookstores in 2024

Vera series chapters here

~

Ash/Athena Crossover AU(s)

Original AU with @ashintheairlikesnow and her brilliant Daniel Michaelson story

Fillis angst parade (AU to the AU), Finn/Patrick spice, Fillis AU spice/epilogue

AU to Fillis AU, Survivor’s Guilt (Iris at 14, written exclusively by @ashintheairlikesnow)

Just Us: Danny/Gavin AU, duende, nightmares, my name is Stormy

-

With Ash’s BBU story with Jake, Chris, and Antoni: 

Jake/Isaac comf part 1, Jake/Isaac comf part 2, Jake/Isaac comf part 3

~

The Collection Box/Honor Bound Crossover AU

Crossover with @whump-it and her BBU AU The Collection Box

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

~

Athena/Raye Crossover AU

Crossover with @newbornwhumperfly​ and their Morja and Company story

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

~

Athena’s AO3

Athena’s Ko-fi

Athena’s bookshop.org link (I am an affiliate and do get commission if you use this link)

~

When the story begins in 2029…

[on hiatus]

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Okay so here, I think, is why I think Red, White and Royal Blue succeeds spectacularly as a romcom, and actually to me is a better-than-average take on the genre.

Originally posted by gay-bucky-barnes

First, the leads have absolutely scorching chemistry. They are incredibly believable as two men absolutely infatuated with each other. They each kiss like drowning men shown water, right down to how each grabs at the other, at hair or back or neck and face.

They each have developed their character having a specific characteristic even when flirting or kissing. Henry grabs Alex's hair, for example, every single time, in a way that makes it clear he spends serious time thinking about that hair.

Fair enough, Henry.

They also do something even goddamn better.

They are friends. They are believable as two people who could actually get along long enough to fall in love.

They are allowed to become FRIENDS.

Keep reading

[whump-tr0pes]

*fans self* do I need to see this movie???

[on hiatus]

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Inspired by this post by @lemissingmask

The team holding Eliot back from violence, either with a simple gesture or by putting themselves in front of him.

And the time the violence was encouraged:

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

I have been informed that I missed one!

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

There’s MORE? Oh my...

[on hiatus]

[why-am--i-here]

This is a tad bit random, but I honestly @whump-tr0pes Honor Bound could become a fucking whole TV show or something. This shit hits me in the feels.

[whump-tr0pes]

From your mouth to the gods’ ears, my friend. @butwhatifyouwrite actually wrote a fantastic pilot for Honor Bound that you can find here, and I would gladly sacrifice a (consenting) virgin to make it real.

[on hiatus]

[heavensickness]

there is not a single day i don't think about this quote in relation to tragedies

[araekni]

Aeschylus, The Oresteia

[onlyloverleft]

Richard Siken, Planet of Love

[listentothepages]

The Lumineers, Cleopatra

[butternaan]

This story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it.

[boogerwookiesugarcookie]

listentothepages:

onlyloverleft:

araekni:

heavensickness:

there is not a single day i don't think about this quote in relation to tragedies

Aeschylus, The Oresteia

Richard Siken, Planet of Love

The Lumineers, Cleopatra

@olreid

Matthew Stover: Revenge of the Sith

[on hiatus]

[jordanstrophe]

Whumpee’s tied down in a hospital gown gagged and blindfolded. 

The gag is so they don’t bite.

The blindfold is so no one has to look into their eyes when they run unethical experiments.

Besides, they’re here for the science, not torture. They had the stomach for blood but not for the crying.

[on hiatus]

Anonymous asked:

I am LIVING for early days Chris and Jake may we have a little more ma’am, as a treat??

ashintheairlikesnow answered:

Oh, I’ve been ‘ma’am’d’ up in these parts now

CW: Trauma response including panic and fall back on conditioned behavior, stimming, self-injury (smacking self) repeating internalized derogatory ableist language (brief) - this is mostly fluffy

Jake catches the kid doing a fucking handstand, of all things, in his room. Just… upside down, holding all his weight on his hands, his hair brushing the floor. He just stands there watching for a second as the kid holds himself effortlessly, then simply bends himself carefully in half and stands upright again. He raises his arms up - like someone on the Olympics - and Jake has to hold back kind of a laugh. It’s not a mean laugh but he doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

The kid, arms in the air, simply slides his legs wide apart and slips into effortless, easy splits, right there on the floor, bends over to wrap his hands around the underside of one foot, and rests his forehead on his outstretched leg.

He makes a sound like a sigh of pure contentment.

“Holy shit,” Jake whispers.

The kid jerks around like he’s been slapped, wide eyes finding Jake standing there. He pulls his legs back together and spins them around to get into a crouched position, scrambling back until he knocked into the bed behind him. 

“Oh, no, man, no, you’re okay-”

“I’m, I’m sorry, sorry sorry sorry,” The boy says, high and pleading, curled into himself and looking so incredibly small. “Sorry, I, I didn’t, didn’t mean to- you didn’t say I could, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sir I won’t do do do, won’t, won’t do-”

The kid hits himself in the head with the palm of his hand, and Jake jerks in a horrified breath.

“Stop, stop it, stop stop stop stop, silence is, is better than stammering silence is better than stammering silence is better than-”

“No it’s not,” Jake says, speaking up, not too loud, he doesn’t want to scare him any worse. He steps into the room and the boy flinches, clinging onto the frame of the bed he’s been sleeping in (or under - Antoni hasn’t actually seen him in the bed yet) for dear life.

“I’m sorry, you, you didn’t give permission, you didn’t-… I’m sorry sorry sorry sorry-, I’m, I can’t, I can’t use, my words are wrong, I’m sorry-”

“Your words are fine,” Jake tries, but the boy is hitting his fingers on the floor, again and again, a constant tapping sound, as he hunches into himself even further. “It’s okay, you’re not in trouble. It’s, can you… stop doing that, or…?”

“Right, right, right right right.” The boy goes still, and Jake regrets every fucking word all at once. There it is, the awful stillness he’s held since he got here. Jake is beginning to understand why. “Stillness is better than what i do, silence is better than stammering, is, is is is-… no, no no no I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I’m sorry-”

Jake can’t think of anything else to do. He just drops to the ground and sits, putting himself at the kid’s level, maybe even a little below it. The boy is so surprised by this that he shuts off like a radio, blinking, wide-eyed and fearful at the tall, muscular man simply sitting on the floor a few feet away.

“I’m sorry I interrupted you,” Jake says, calmly, carefully. “I was really impressed at what you can do.”

“You’re… sorry?” The boy watches him, looking like he’s ready to bolt, to run, with nowhere really to go. 

“Yeah. Hasn’t anyone ever apologized to you before?” He says it jokingly, but the look on the boy’s face reminds him that, well, probably no one ever has, in the kid’s memory. “Well, let me be the first, I guess. I’m really sorry I spooked you. But all that stuff… is that what they taught you?”

The boy is silent, considering him, and he slowly nods.

Jake takes a breath against the anger curling inside him. Some version of it is always there, but right now it feels deeper than ever. “Okay. Well all of that’s bullshit, so put that on your list of stuff that’s just not true. We’ve been hoping you would talk more.”

“Y-you have?” The boy seems to relax a little, sitting on the ground instead of crouching, leaning over to watch Jake. His fingers start their rhythm on the floor again, but more calmly this time, a little softer. 

“Yeah. You can talk here, man. This is going to be a safe place for you, okay? Do you understand where you are?”

“Shelter. I’m, I’m, I’m a rescue. I was rescued.”

“Great, good, so you get that. You stay ‘til you’re ready to go back out into the world. But… but if you want to do handstands and shit in your room, you do that, okay? No one’s going to stop you.”

The boy licks at his lips, a kind of brightness entering his eyes. He looks more alive than he’s looked since he got here. “Re-… really?”

“Really really. D’you… maybe want to show me a handstand? Show me how you do it?”

The boy hesitates - seconds ticking along - and then he nods all at once, almost frantically, and pops up to standing like a Jack-in-the-box. Jake watches him bend his entire fucking body in half to put his hands on the floor, and simply lift his feet up into the air until he’s totally upside down again.

“Holy shit,” Jake says again, and then he applauds, watching the boy nearly fall over in excitement when he gets a positive response. 

“Did, did, did did did do you like it?” The boy asks when he’s rightside-up again, hands worrying at each other.

“Man, of course I did. What else can you do?”

The boy’s mouth opens, slightly, and his eyes are so, so bright. “You, you, you wanna see?”

“Fuck yes. Show me.”

The thing about rescues is you have to find them where they are, first, and let them grow from there. Jake and Nat have been despairing over where to find this new kid, silent and still as death, hiding behind his bed or watching them all with fear in his eyes. 

Jake thinks privately, as the boy shows him some kind of complicated yoga pose that involves all his weight resting on one leg with his arms all pretzel’d around himself, that he’s just found the way to open the door.

[on hiatus]

whump-tr0pes asked:

Could I request... a drabble of Nancy's children cutting her off and not letting her meet her grandchildren? Or even just a summary of events? 👀

ashintheairlikesnow answered:

Dear Ask Amandla:

I have a problem with my two grown children that has been ongoing for a while, and I am at my wits’ end. Years ago, I made some less-than-perfect decisions, supporting someone who was manipulative and overbearing towards a teenager in his care. I knew that some of what I witnessed was illegal, but allowed it to happen and said nothing.

The person in question was the same age as my younger daughter. I NEVER considered him in any way like her. There were extenuating circumstances! I followed my loyalty to someone who turned out not to deserve it. But when my children found out, years later, they were furious. Not just that I had allowed the mistreatment of someone to happen in my employer’s household, but that I had never told them about it. Frankly, my work and home life have always been kept separate. I was an assistant to a powerful man and had little recourse myself.

I have never been charged with a crime, and provided the authorities with anything they asked for when the investigation was underway. But when my children told me I should apologize to the now-grown young man my employer mistreated, I will admit I balked. I certainly never hurt him myself, after all, and don’t feel an apology would help either him or me.

He was never significantly harmed during my employment with the powerful man, and it’s not like I could pay medical bills or do anything else.

My children were upset with me for refusing to apologize for my part in all this, but I don’t think that, eight years after the events occurred, my apology is asked for or even wanted.

My son answers my calls only sporadically, and my daughter - the one who is the same age as the young man who was mistreated - has stopped talking to me entirely. She was six months pregnant when I last heard her voice. It’s been so long she must have had the baby by now, but my calls go unanswered and she doesn’t respond to letters, emails, or anything else I’ve tried.

I made a mistake, but it was years ago and I was working hard to provide for my children. After the hard work and love I’ve shown them, I am absolutely floored that they would cut me off over someone they don’t know and who they’ve never even met. What can I do to have my children in my lives again?

Yours,

BAFFLED IN BERRAS

-

Dear Baffled in Berras,

Baffled, I would love to answer you, but I can sense that there is a LOT you aren’t telling me between the lines of what you are. In fact, you probably tried to hide more than you revealed.

It sounds like your children drew a firm line in the sand about what they need to feel comfortable with you. You can choose not to respect that, but if you do, they also are free to choose distance or even total disconnection from you.

If you ask me, the root of their unhappiness is probably your way of remembering things perhaps a bit rosier than they truly were. For instance, you continually call an adult individual’s abuse of a teenage boy ‘mistreatment’.

It was more than mistreatment, Baffled, wasn’t it? And despite your phrasing, you were not helpless to report it. You had plenty of recourse. You chose not to help.

Your children are asking you to take full responsibility for your actions and what those actions enabled, and even just by your letter I think it’s clear that you never have.

You can take responsibility and seek reconciliation, or you can choose not to. But your children are adults, and they can and will make their own choices, too.

Right now, it seems like they have chosen to step away. You need to respect that, too.

You can start by cutting out all the euphemisms and metaphors and by calling every single part of it what it is and not what you want it to have been.

You aided and abetted abuse of a minor. That’s a crime. It’s understandable that your daughter would be horrified to learn that you accepted and enabled that abuse while parenting she and her brother.

Good luck.

Ask Amandla

[redwingedwhump]

@ashintheairlikesnow it was this one!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Yeah!

And yes, Ask Amandla knew exactly who she was

[whump-tr0pes]

Get her ass, Amandla

[on hiatus]

whump-tr0pes asked:

You know I gotta do it after what you just put me through... how about some Miss Nancy whump? Her kids cutting her off? A humiliating expose? A vigilante stealing her retirement and donating it to a petlib charity?

Hit her where it hurts 🥺 please 🥺

ashintheairlikesnow answered:

Man, on one side we have people wanting her pushed down the stairs and on the other financial thievery and becoming infamous

No worries, though. Her kids don’t talk to her and cut her off after the Olympics when they realize she knew

Granted, she pretends she doesn’t know why…

[whump-tr0pes]

But. But I. But I wanna see it.

*drops a shiny coin in your tip jar*

(If you’re up to it and inspired. If this doesn’t speak to you, no biggie ❤️)

[on hiatus]

[demyrie]

A wonderful and topical column from a respected queer columnist! How refreshing!!!

I would give the link but you know how Tumblr hates links.

I personally find the pulled quote "I am not entitled to a perpetual state of comfort" to be a) the wisest most comforting shit I've heard all year and b) a maliciously abdicated concept in most young reactionary gays. Also known as tenderqueers, or purity police, or puriteens. So here I go.

JP is an immensely cool guy. We went to college together (generally, not personally). He doesn't play in fandom, or at least doesn't write much about it, so we are now seeing fandom purity culture bleed into "real life" asks and columns and I for one am exhausted. The sheer ignorance of gay history is the bulk of the problem and I don't know how to make younger queers understand that we've always been kinky, we've always been weird and outside and rejected, and while ITS COOL THAT YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE THAT NOW(?), you have ZERO rights to try and cringe-cancel and sanitize a culture of survivors triple your age. Because of les uncomfix, or anything else.

(TW: small fandom-centric story involving trauma dumping re: sexual abuse and incest)

It reminds me of when I received a comment on a chapter of Bandages and Bravado, accusing me of (here we go) promoting/adoring incest for? Midnight making a joke that Aizawa needed a "daddy".

That was it. I also tagged for it. It was a joking sort of tag, because it was ONE SENTENCE, ONE THROW AWAY CONCEPT, like ha ha we are referencing living/classic gay culture in a story about stupid Japanese heroes.

Then.

This person was deeply upset and triggered and trauma dumped, semi-graphically, in the comments on a BDSM-centered fic with nearly exhaustive tags, about how their father sexually abused them and how they have to walk through life knowing that people do this thing that I referenced, and why would I ever do that. This thing that, according to the level of their deep grief, I invented (???) and wrote into a very unrelated story (????) for callous and ignorant laughs.

There is so much wrong with this ahistorical, ignorant, unhealed and reactionary approach to kink and sex and I am still so very sorry that this person stumbled upon that one sentence, or concept, and it was enough to provoke that kind of pain.

I also know that it had little, if nothing, to do with me.

I said (paraphrased), "I am deeply sorry you had to live through that. You should probably not be reading this fic. While it is still your choice, I would not recommend it, because the fact you didn't expect to see basic gay kink content/context in a themed fic overly tagged as such probably means you're not mature enough for the complicated contents to come. It will probably lead to more distress, and I don't want that for you. I will be deleting your comment within 24 hours, due to the fact that others have not consented to your graphic descriptions of your very real abuse. In sharing in public spaces, you may trigger someone else, and I'm certain that was not your intent."

And I did. I was shaken, and sorry, and mad, mostly at the idea that young people (I'm assuming they were young) are irresponsibly barging into pieces of fiction and destroying themselves like this. And, in terms of their comment, possibly harming other people who had come into the space responsibly and weren't at all expecting to encounter an accusatory first hand account of incest and abuse in a story actually WHOLLY unrelated to such things.

I'm just tired, y'all. You are not entitled to perpetual comfort. You are entitled only to maintain your own sense of comfort and your ability to enter and exit spaces that you believe violate your comfort. You cannot do this at the expense of others, and not everything on this green earth is engineered to harm you. Some things simply are.

And if you metaphorically walk up to a rock in the middle of the road and bend over to bash your head into it, not even have the excuse of TRIPPING on it, then you need to take some time with yourself and figure out how to effectively champion your own internet safety. It's your most important responsibility out here, and if you show up with gushing head-wounds more than once, you may not have your own best interests at heart.

Enjoy the good. Block the bad. Curate your feed. BUILD YOUR BUBBLE. MAINTAIN YOUR ARBITRARY CONCEPT OF SAFETY.

And please, PLEASE stop self-harming on my, or anyone's, accurately tagged content. Because did you know? That's what you're doing.

[roach-works]

trauma dumping is a sort of reactionary self harm that has a blast radius, too. ignoring tags and then blowing up at creatives who are producing content you can't stand makes you a miserable fucking time bomb who gives a hell of a lot of people some really bad days. like, i don't know any writers by this point that haven't gone through the miserable and disturbing and dehumanizing experience of having someone take issue with something they wrote and then telling us all about the worst things that could ever happen to anyone. ive been informed of kids being not just raped but tortured by their parents, by their teachers. ive been told about failed and successful suicides. ive been told about forced bestiality and animal death and child abuse and deliberate disablement and financial exploitation and stalking. on and on.

people have told me things that made me lie down and cry because either they really happened or someone is so opposed to something i wrote that they made up this nightmare lie just to punish me for it. i carry this stuff in my heart. when i found out content moderators get ptsd i cried too, from horror and from sick relief. you can't hear horror after horror like that without it hurting you. it's a real pain. it counts.

if you are very badly hurt your pain doesn't make you a monster, it doesn't make you unloveable, it doesn't make you bad. but it also doesn't freeze you in place as a victim so powerless you can never hurt anyone else ever again. how you manage your pain is important. and using your broken places to glass writers in the face makes you a fucking asshole.

[roach-works]

yeah cops don't like it when you oink at them, either. csam is an important term that has a specific legal definition: it is a recording of a real living human child who is being sexually abused or exploited.

a huge amount of furious pushback against the purity police has been by writers, artists, and ABUSE SURVIVORS who are deeply angry that self-righteous little twerps have degraded terms like 'pedophile' into absolute uselessness because they, like the whole rest of the far right neofascists, need a snappy little term that means 'what i don't like shouldn't happen' and gets everyone in earshot to mob the target immediately and without question.

if your moral stance towards art is 'it's such a shame when the wrong people get punished, only the people i myself disapprove of should be destroyed' you are functionally no different from any other cop or karen and in your self-righteous moral superiority you are a clear and present danger to basically fuckin everyone.

[olderthannetfic]

Every post like this ends up with a ton of that tag commentary from people who think they got it... but very clearly did not.

[on hiatus]

Anonymous asked:

*whispers* it's been a while since you whumped Chris

ashintheairlikesnow answered:

It’s true, I haven’t!
-
CW: Pet whump, drugging (referenced), references to noncon, bruises, aftermath of beating, nudity (nonsexual, brief), dehumanizing language, painful wound cleaning
-

Nancy pushes the door to Oliver’s room open with one hip, the other balancing freshly folded laundry in a white wicker basket, humming an old country song to herself as she wanders inside. Oliver’s… boy… Baldur isn’t on the bed like he usually is. Generally by now Oliver’s already given him a morning pill that keeps him more or less asleep until lunchtime, but when she glances over at the massive bed with its navy silk sheets, she sees only a nested puddle of blankets, no shock of copper-red hair, no pale skin.

She frowns, glancing around, but there’s no sign of him in any of the chairs or hiding under Oliver’s desk. Well, maybe the governor took Baldur with him to work this morning, he does that now and then, pulling the stupid pretty thing under his office desk for hours on end. Either way, she has work to do.

She sets the basket of laundry down on the floor and gets to bed. First, she strips the sheets and blankets, ignoring the dark dried blood stains and the lighter, other stains, too. None of her business, and Oliver pays her a pretty penny on the side even above her very nice salary to keep her mouth shut about these things.

Keep reading

[whump-tr0pes]

Good god good god oh holy fuck good god.