Oooh, yes, that’s a good one!  Let me know if I got everything you were thinking of!

Aesthetic: Manhandling

So there are the classics, the ones we know and love - being herded by a gun, hands in the air, moving slowly to stall for time and also because a trembling trigger finger will spasm at any sudden action.  A sword shoved in the hollow of a throat, head tilted back, eyes narrowed, a smirk as they swallow, as the swordpoint digs in a little deeper.  Being dragged with shackles and chains, resisting because of both pain and defiance, a glower on their face.

And then there are the ones that are special.  The ones that don’t use weapons.  The ones that use only bare hands.

A fist wrapped in long hair, yanking back (it’s always back, isn’t it, forcing the guard open and leaving the neck defenseless).  Do they grin, eyes slanted, a deliberate swallow to draw attention to the angles of their neck?  Do they snarl, tears almost forming at the corner of their eyes at the pain when they resist?  Do they cry out, trying to comply but moving too slowly, too weak, the movement tugging at old wounds?

A hand around the neck, just underneath the jaw, shoving them into a wall.  Not quite choking, but their windpipe is compressed and they shove themselves on tiptoes and talk faster and faster as they’re pressed against the wall.

Two guards on either side, forcing arms behind back and palms yanked up.  The position is beyond uncomfortable and the fingers are tight on their wrists.  It is almost too discomforting to pay attention to the conversation.

Tackling them to the floor.  A sudden expulsion of breath, fingers jabbed into pressure points, a heavy weight on their limbs.  They’re on their back before they realize what’s going on.  They are restrained before they can breathe again.

A hand on a wrist - deceptively casual, but the grip is strong, grinding bones together, and the wrist is weak.  A sudden yank to drag them closer, stumble-stuttering forward, a wince as their wrist is nearly pulled out of alignment.

A crushing grip.  A handshake that turns into a pissing contest, an easy smile as their fingers grind against each other.  The pain is unbearable and they drop to their knees, pleading for it to stop.

We don’t need guns or swords or chains.  We have hands - hands that can twist in hair, that can tighten around bones, that can push and pull and squeeze and break.  The human body is versatile at fighting, at dominating.  Make full use of it.  Of the intimacy in using hands, of the roughness, of framing power and strength.  

Contrast: Sudden Collapse.

I mean, sudden collapses and fainting and crumpling are all fantastic, but what about the slower ones?  When they realize they’re getting dizzy and faint and the pain hurts too much to stay standing?

They stumble back until they hit a wall but the friction isn’t enough to keep them upright and they begin a slow slide down, frozen in shock and pain.

They grab a railing to stay upright, but their hand trembles with the strain and their knees waver and all the determination in the world can’t keep them standing as they slip an inch lower with every breath.

They latch onto a piece of furniture, hoping to lean against it - and then their arms tremble and crumple and they grab something else and something else and something else until their hands are locked around a table leg and they’re crying on the floor.

They desperately grasp onto anyone who is willing to help, to support them, to offer a shoulder to lean on - only they’re heavy and the other person is unbalanced and they try their best to stay upright but it ends up being more of a graceless tumble than a controlled fall.

- bowl of soup on a bedside table, fed spoonful by spoonful to the sleepy occupant of the bed, as they sit propped up against pillows and tucked under a thick quilt

- cookie slowly nibbled to make it last, on the train ride back home after a long day, stilling the gnawing hunger pangs though not touching the throbbing headache

- “I’m not hungry.”

“c’mon, just a bite. you’ve not eaten anything today.”

- steaming hot tea in a mug, chilly hands wrapped around it, honey sweet and sticky on cracked lips and kind to a sore throat

- shaking fingers interlaced to hold a cup of water, cold against feverish skin

- toast in triangles with a little clear bright jelly on top, a good first meal after a long time hungry

- sandwich slid quietly across the desk on a paper towel, silent hint to the overworked friend sitting amid paperwork on the other side

“That does not sound healthy.”

“Call it Plan B if you like. Hell, call it Plan Z. But I am packing the good drugs.”

“I don’t need to be able to stand. I just need to be able to shoot.”

“I can sleep when I’m dead.”

“I promise you: your head is the only thing spinning right now.”

“Oh god… is that… <I>blood</I>?”

“I’ll do this if it kills me.”

“Hey, hey, hey. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“[Character]’s fine! You’re the one with the bullet holes!”

“This? This is just a scratch. I’ve had worse from my sister’s kitten. Don’t worry, I’ll get you home safe if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I don’t know… I’ve never seen [character] like this before.”

“[Character], please, I don’t have energy to waste arguing with you.”

“I don’t need your misplaced concern. I need to get the job done. You need me to get the job done.”

“Mercenary isn’t a career that comes with health insurance.”

“I’m gonna regret asking this, but, uh… why are you so good at giving yourself stitches?”

“I will not be the one who slows us down.”

“Uh… didn’t you also donate blood this morning? Because this is really terrible timing.”

“Don’t worry about [character], he’ll be fine. I’ve seen him take out a small army while he had a cracked skull and a broken arm. This is just a bit of a scratch/virus/overexertion.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. The fuck are you doing?! Were you raised by wolves? When you are this sick, you do <I>not</I> get out of bed. And you sure as hell do not come into work.”

“You know, normal people listen to medical advice.”

“Tell me this is not the first time someone’s made you soup.”

“When’s the last time you ate? Or even slept?”

“Do you have a headache or something?”

“Pain… is just… a construct of… the mind…”

“What could possibly go wrong?“

“Fuck… this is so above my pay grade.”

“Ok, I need you to hold me still while [character] works. Don’t let go. Not even if I scream. Not even if… not even if I beg.”

In recent days, there have been a number of posts on tumblr about third party apps that host AO3 fic on them. A lot of people are worried and even more people are pissed.

There is no need to send in emails to AO3 Support or to the Policy and Abuse team. They are fully aware of the situation and are probably drowning in emails right now. 

Here’s what I know and what you can do about it.

Fluff app / Fanfiction Pocket Archive Library app / Archive Track Reader app:

These apps work as a sort of skin for the AO3 site itself. They don’t download works and redistribute them. They provide an access point to AO3.

The developers of these apps are making money from the app itself (through tips and subscriptions - both voluntary), which wouldn’t exist without the free content created by AO3 authors. Since people post their work to AO3 because it is free to access and hosted without ads, authors are understandably angered by this.

Because these apps are basically just a portal to the site, a DMCA notice will not apply in this case. All works currently hosted on AO3 will show up on these apps, because these apps are simply letting you view AO3 through their interface.

Woodsign company apps (including MCU, Harry Potter, Sherlock, Creepypasta, and more):

These apps seem to curate  some fic from the various fandoms and rehost it. They allow users to read offline, so it’s possible they are redistributing it. In this case, a DMCA takedown might be effective.

This app developer is also making money by hosting fanfic that was written and posted for free on AO3. They have put up a paywall so that you can only access the complete fic if you pay for it or rate the app in the App store. 

If you want to post a negative review, consider saying things like:

* these fanworks are free already at archiveofourown.org * you can kudos, comment, bookmark, subscribe, and mark to read for later for free with an archiveofourown.org account * you can also download fics to read later in various file formats - both pdf and formats that are usable by ereaders * archiveofourown.org is a website with full mobile browser accessibility. Anything you can do in this app, you can do on the site - for free, and without ads * the Archive is a fully-licensed non-profit organization run by volunteers, unlike this for-profit app

There is no official AO3 app. The website is mobile friendly and if you want to have quick button access to it, you can Add to Homescreen on your phone and you can click in just like you would on an app. None of these third party apps can provide you with AO3 support. Only AO3 can do that. The best version of the site will always, always be the site itself.

Scorpions!

Hello fellow whumpers. It has occurred to me that scorpions hold a lot of potential for whump stories, but not all of you have had the pleasure of meeting them. So! Since I live in AZ where we have a lot of scorpions, I thought I would share my knowledge with you. Note that this is not scientific information, but rather first-hand knowledge and some research. If you wanna know more, message me, or use google to your advantage. :)

Scorpion stings are rarely deadly (except for about 25 species in Asia, Africa, and South America.) The worst scorpion we have around here is the Desert Bark Scorpion. Not deadly, but it’s sting causes numbness, tingling, and vomiting for 24-72 hours. Most venomous scorpion in North America. 

Unlike a bee, scorpions can sting multiple times. They can keep stinging until they run out of venom. My brother had one in his pants and it stung him three times on the thigh. There is no barb in the site of the sting. The pain is enough to make you yell, or maybe scream.

Pain level will depend on where you were stung, and how big the scorpion was. Size matters, or rather, age matters when it comes to scorpions. Baby scorpions don’t know how to control their venom when they sting. So they tend to unleash all of their venom in one go, making for a much more painful sting. The scorpions I’ve seen ranged in size from about three inches long to about the size of my baby fingernail.

Treatment: there isn’t really much that can be done. Wash the wound off with soap and water, use a cold compress/an ice pack, and take ibuprofen for pain/swelling. 

Scorpion appearance/behavior: They are nocturnal and tend to be territorial creatures, but that doesn’t mean you won’t find multiple at the same time. They don’t tend to move around much unless they are doing something. (So, if you see one, it’s not gonna be wiggling like a spider). They are fast, but not nearly as fast as cockroaches. They can fit through spaces about the thickness of a credit card, and can easily climb on walls or ceilings. Oh, and they also glow under black lights. Why? I dunno. They just do. 

They *love* citrus groves. Again, I dunno why, they just do. If you have citrus groves near your house, or live on land that was once a citrus grove, you will find scorpions. 

When undisturbed, scorpions keep their tail behind them in a hook or J shape. When threatened or aggressive, their claws open up, and their tail comes up, still in a hook shape. The generally aren’t aggressive unless provoked. Still, in our house, the rule was “squish first, as questions later”.

Which brings me to killing scorpions. Scorpions do have an exoskeleton, but they are much easier to squish then cockroaches. You can squish them with your shoe or any solid object. When squished, they do make a small “crunch”, but nothing like when a cockroach is squished. Finding them while in the sand is fun…you squish it, but it gets buried under the sand and you don’t know if you killed it, or if it will re-emerge later. 

What else…? Um…I’ve been stung twice. Once on the bottom of my foot, once below my eye (tiny scorpion. Ek.) My brother has had one in his pants and it stung him three times on the thigh. My sister has had one in her pjs, my mom has found one in her bed… yeah. They tend to get everywhere. 

SPOILERS FOR C2E94

New fic! I didn't manage to get it out before I left for work so I had to post in on my phone to AO3, then post the link here because Tumblr mobile is a mess

It was a whumpy fic about Clint Barton and his recruitment to SHIELD. He was being held captive by someone who abused/tortured him and forced him to assassinate people. SHIELD took down the bad guy, rescued Clint, rehabilitated him, and recruited him. Clint had selective mutism from the trauma. 

Taglist: @smileevenwhenyoudontfeellikeit

I love how a gun immediately changes the game.

I love when they freeze and let their smile slip when someone unholsters a gun.

I love the flinch they make when it’s shoved into their face.

I love the slow raising of their hands.

I love the set jaw, the tilt of their head - not proud, but dignified.

I love seeing a gun smash into someone’s face because they don’t deserve a bullet but they deserve more than a punch.

I love the sudden stillness when the safety clicks.

I love the standoff, those tense moments of stillness, of anger, of panic before it’s released, before someone gives up and puts their gun on the floor.

I love someone refusing to be led.  I love the barrel of the gun resting on their forehead and them staring back in defiance.

I love someone shoving a gun into their captive’s jaw to force their head up.

-          The leader tirelessly defending their team, which they feel personally responsible for, in a fight and getting badly hurt

-          And of course, the leader absolutely refuses to admit (to themselves or to the others) that they are wounded because they can’t show weakness when their people are depending on them… until they just can’t go on anymore

-          The leader waking up back at their base (or whatever) in total panic and immediately remembering everything that happened on the battlefield and the fact that they failed their team. There is no calming them down until someone assures them that everyone on the team is alive and well, and even then, the leader insists on personally checking up on all of them. Is the team actually okay or were they lied to in order to spare them?

-          Alternatively, maybe the leader is kept off the battlefield. Afterall, they are “the symbol of the team” and “all their people have”. They may want to sacrifice themselves but realize that they can’t afford it for the sake of the majority of their people, but that certainly doesn’t keep the guilt from getting to them.

o   Option A: The captured, soon-to-be publicly hanged team members understand the leader’s decision, so when their captors try to cut a deal with the leader for their release, they defiantly tell them not to take the offer.

o   Option B: The team members start pleading for mercy the second the opportunity presents itself, for the leader to please, please comply with the demands.

-          A leader doubting their leadership skills after a disastrous mission which claims a high number of casualties amongst the team members.

-          A new inexperienced leader taking on the title and trying their absolute best despite knowing - and constantly being told - that they aren’t good enough, which eventually pressures them into doing something excessively stupid and dangerous to prove themselves.

-          A qualified, experienced second-in-command having to watch as a clearly unfit leader stumble their way through leadership, making one stupid decision after another. They are forced to stay on the sidelines and from that position attempt to keep their people from starving during the drought or being overrun by enemy forces - all along very much aware of the fact that their meddling could earn them a death sentence for manipulating the official leader at any given moment

-          A leader trying to convince their people to give up the fight against their enemies after they have been made aware of some horrible consequences of their continued resistance, and they are faced with the hateful backlash from the people who believes they are a sell-out

-          A leader who has ties to the enemy (familial? former teammate?) and is desperate for their team to never find out it. They do. What happens?

-          A leader being challenged to a fight for their title by another aspiring leader. The leader knows that physical strength is not their strong suit, but they are also painfully aware of what a terrible leader their challenger would make and are unwilling to subject their people to that.

-          A captured leader refusing help form the team members who have come to rescue them as they don’t want their people to endanger themselves on their behalf

-          A leader disguised as a civilian (no, this trope isn’t dead, thanks for asking) finding out that their leadership hurts their people

-          A leader resisting being escorted away for their safety - because there’s no way in hell they’re hiding when their people is in danger

-          A leader being the target of an assassination or kidnapping attempt

-          A leader being betrayed by someone close to them for their power

-          A leader finding out they have been misguided and manipulated by their advisers. They now have to find a way to right their wrongs even though their power is mostly symbolic, and the true power is the advisers’.

-          The leader having to decide the faith of a trusted team member who betrayed them but also insists they did it for the good of the team

-          The leader starting to feel that their leadership is getting questioned, and then by accident learning that their people is preparing a coup against them

-          A leader being declared “unstable” despite being perfectly sane in a ruse to steal their power set in motion by their closest subordinates.