#may 22 prompt

[aelloposchrysopterus]

From Albia with "Love"

It is an undeniable truth that Albia has a sense of humor. It is also undeniable that Albia acts with a sense of impunity because, as far as anyone knows, she is the only God-Queen left, and mere mortals have a difficult time getting her to play by their rules, let alone attempt to have any accountability.

Trelawney Thorpe likes to open her mail carefully in the event of any surprises, especially when anything is postmarked as being from Albia. It was a lesson learned the hard way. When your employer’s a millennia-old God-Queen, you have to get use to dangerous things (like, say, a cursed amulet) getting sent to your door, because of course you’ll be able to deal with it before your morning cuppa, right? Spark of the Realm and all that?

Trelawney sometimes wishes she could quit her job. She was getting jealous of the celebrity Tarvek Sturmvoraus, who just gadded about as he pleased, being a spark and saving the day and, yes, occasionally getting into trouble. For the head fashion designer of the Storm King brand, he was quite roguish — and she likes that about him.

She likes that about all of his jet-setting crowd, she can’t deny that. She likes the Gilgamesh Wulfenbach candid photos where he’s caught in dubious situations and he can’t worm his way out of it, so he just gives the camera that deadpan libertine stare of his, suit jacket hung over one shoulder only. She likes reading the Agatha Heterodyne arrest reports from each time she goes full madgirl. Agatha, Gil, and Tarvek, toasting on the runway and on the runway. She likes — and hates that she likes — that they’re all power brokers, each in their own way.

Albia knows about the folder on Trelawney’s phone labelled “Gil” that’s mostly a collection of the most roguish photos of Gil, outside the notorious nightclubs of Paris and the shadiest bars in New York, the sleaziest pubs in London and the most dubious casino backrooms of Monaco. Albia also knows that Gil is wanted by the police for questioning in an investigation into the murder of Omar von Zinzer. Albia, eternally wise, knows that Trelawney capturing Gil would greatly bolster Trelawney’s career, which is slightly stagnating after the Budapest debacle.

(What Albia doesn’t know is that Trelawney has matching folders for Agatha and Tarvek, that technically Agatha is more responsible for von Zinzer’s death than anyone else still alive, and that Trelawney really, really, really wants to quit.)

At 09:00 GMT on 20 May, Gilgamesh “Gil” Wulfenbach is spotted leaving a party in the Beverly Hills area of Los Angeles, looking severely and abnormally intoxicated.

At 20:00 GMT on 20 May, a British military flight from Los Angeles lands at Chequers.

At 01:24 GMT on 21 May, Bangladesh “Bang” DuPree, a Silicon Valley exec, reports Gil Wulfenbach missing after he failed to show up to a lunch meeting and she was unable to contact him. She is told to call again when he’s been gone for 48 hours.

At 01:47 GMT on 21 May, Agatha Heterodyne reports Gil Wulfenbach missing after he failed to return to their luxury estate in Montecito after the party. She is told to call again when he’s been gone for 48 hours and a partial transcript of her call is leaked, turning her into the front page of the next day’s tabloids.

At 06:28 GMT on 21 May, a package is dropped off at Trelawney Thorpe’s Ealing apartment, postmarked from Chequers. She moves it inside but does not open it, instead choosing to leave for her job as an MI5 analyst.

At 07:13 GMT on 21 May, the business magnate Klaus Wulfenbach is interrupted during a late-afternoon meeting in Hong Kong by a call from Bang DuPree that notifies him of his son’s disappearance.

At 07:19 GMT on 21 May, Tarvek Sturmvoraus listens to a voicemail left by Agatha Heterodyne while in Lagos, preparing for a semi-major fashion show.

At 07:25 GMT on 21 May, Violetta Mondarev, an angel investor, receives a text from Tarvek Sturmvoraus and immediately books a private jet from Sofia to Paris.

At 07:33 GMT on 21 May, Xerxesphina “Seffie” von Blitzengaard, an influencer currently based in Milan, reads a screenshot of Tarvek Sturmvoraus’s text to Violetta Mondarev, sent to her by her close friend and personal self-help guru Sparafucile.

At 07:46 GMT on 21 May, Colette Voltaire, president of France, is called by Seffie von Blitzengaard during a national security meeting. She hangs up but promises to call back.

At 08:00 GMT on 21 May, Colette Voltaire calls Seffie von Blitzengaard back.

At 08:27 GMT on 21 May, Sparafucile takes a flight from Milan to Los Angeles.

At 09:01 GMT on 21 May, a very stressed Tarvek Sturmvoraus gets off the phone with Agatha Heterodyne and creates a WhatsApp group composed of himself, Agatha Heterodyne, Bang DuPree, Klaus Wulfenbach, Violetta Mondarev, Seffie von Blitzengaard, Sparafucile, Colette Voltaire, and Gil Wulfenbach’s right hand man, Ardsley Wooster.

At 09:06 GMT on 21 May, the WhatsApp group reaches the consensus that they will not find Gil Wulfenbach anytime in the next few hours. They collectively agree to take the search down a notch and amp it up once Bang DuPree and Agatha Heterodyne are able to report Gil Wulfenbach missing.

At 09:07 GMT on 21 May, Ardsley Wooster, an MI6 agent, texts his handler to make them aware of the current status of the Gil Wulfenbach situation and make sure that Queen Albia didn’t have anything to do with it.

At 09:09 GMT on 21 May, Ardsley Wooster texts his friend Trelawney Thorpe.

At 11:02 GMT on 21 May, Violetta Mondarev lands in Paris.

At 11:15 GMT on 21 May, Klaus Wulfenbach hosts a press conference in Hong Kong about his missing son, calling for his safe return.

At 11:17 GMT on 21 May, screenshots of text messages between Tarvek Sturmvoraus and Gil Wulfenbach are leaked to the tabloids.

At 11:23 GMT on 21 May, the article “Gilvek: Fact of Fiction?” is posted online, along with an accompanying quiz called “Who Said It?: Twilight, the Bard, or Gilvek?” that gives readers quotes from the leaked Tarvek Sturmvoraus-Gil Wulfenbach texts, the Twilight series, and Shakespeare plays.

At 11:36 GMT on 21 May, Tarvek Sturmvoraus takes advantage of the media storm around the leaked text messages to release an appeal he calls “Help Me Find My (and Agatha’s) Boyfriend”. The original video is viewed over 2000 times within fifteen minutes.

At 12:02 GMT on 21 May, Agatha Heterodyne releases her video, “Help Me Find My (and Tarvek’s) Boyfriend”. Her video is viewed over 2500 times withing fifteen minutes.

At 12:14 GMT on 21 May, Klaus Wulfenbach is ambushed by a reporter and admits he did not know that his son was in a polycule with Agatha Heterodyne and Tarvek Sturmvoraus.

At 12:18 GMT on 21 May, the WhatsApp group agrees to a policy of total silence following the debacle that is the tabloids trying to get in on the “Agagilvek” story.

At 12:19 GMT on 21 May, Ardsley Wooster texts Trelawney Thorpe, begging her to check her phone.

At 16:25 GMT on 21 May, Trelawney Thorpe checks her phone and leaves work early.

At 16:45 GMT on 21 May, Trelawney Thorpe arrives at her Ealing apartment.

She enters the flat carefully and gently kicks the box that arrived that morning.

It springs back.

“Bloody hell,” she mutters. She finds the nearest packing knife she has and gently cuts away the tape, taking photos as she goes. If Albia did this… Once she’s cut all the tape away, she opens the lid tenderly, hoping to not be surprised by what’s inside.

She is, of course, surprised, because who else but Albia would send a murder suspect kidnapped in a different country through the Royal Mail to the Spark of the Realm. She regains her composure rather quickly. She can’t do anything while Gil Wulfenbach is still unconscious, so she won’t do anything. She’ll just text Ardsley and hope like crazy that he’ll get here before Gil wakes up, but she knows he’s in New York right now because of course he is, so he probably won’t.

Violetta Mondarev, her one-time-flame, is, however, in Paris (they still share their locations with each other), which is close enough. While Trelawney knows that Letta would still come running if she called, she feels guilty about it. The breakup was… fine, it was just because Trelawney didn’t think she would be able to do long-distance when Letta decided she needed to be based in New York, and since the breakup was on her… Trelawney always hesitates before asking Letta for anything.

Ardsley first. Trelawney texts Ardsley Wooster the photo of Gil in the box with the caption “send help albia’s really done it this time”.

She then overcomes the fear of bothering Letta and calls Violetta Mondarev. Her contact still has a heart in it; Trelawney could never bring herself to get rid of it.

“Letta,” she says when Violetta picks up.

“Hey, Tawny!” Violetta replies, cheerful as ever. It was through Letta that Trelawney had met Tarvek and his group of friends, but Trelawney had never heard Letta as happy around all her friends as she sounded right them. “You need something?”

Trelawney swallowed her pride. “Yes. I… I… I need you to come to my flat as soon as you can. I can’t talk about it on the phone, but Letta, I need you.” Well, that was desperate.

“Okay, Tawny, I’ll be right there. I’m chartering a plane and I’ll get there in two-ish hours, okay? Everything’s going to be fine.” She could hear Letta starting to type on a computer, presumably chartering a jet.

“Thanks, Letta,” she says.

Letta laughs on the other end of the line. “Oh, it’s my pleasure. Look, see you soon, okay? I’ll be there in two hours.”

Trelawney is deprived of the ability to respond by Violetta hanging up the phone.

She paces her flat for two hours, waiting for Gil to wake up (he doesn’t) or Ardsley to respond (he doesn’t, either, because he doesn’t know what to say or who to say it to, and he can’t get over to London fast enough) or just anything at all to happen. She’s fought monsters before, she engineers fantastic contraptions to save the day on a regular basis, she’s the Spark of the Realm, she should be able to deal with anything. It’s just that, well, unconscious Gil Wulfenbach on her living room floor is a little bit outside of her comfort zone.

Violetta Mondarev, true to her word, arrives in two hours. She sees Gil lying on the floor as soon as Trelawney lets her in.

“Tawny… this is an Albia thing again, isn’t it?” She points at Gil, who’s beginning to stir a tiny bit.

Trelawney nods.

“And you called me because I’m adjacent to the Agagilvek jet-setting crew, so I’d be more able to deal with this than you?”

“Letta, I’m translucent when it comes to you,” Trelawney tries to laugh.

Violetta grins. “Oh, Tawny…” They both get lost in each other’s eyes for a few minutes.

“Ladies. What.” Gil’s voice comes up from the floor.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Trelawney says.

“Where am I?” Gil asks.

Violetta smirks. “The floor of Trelawney Thorpe’s Ealing flat, exactly where Albia sent you.”

“Uh, I’m wanted for murder here, aren’t I?” His face is a perfect specimen of horror.

“Technically, just for questioning,” Trelawney rolls her eyes.

“And so what are we going to do?” He asks. “I don’t know about you, but I’m personally not a fan of being questioned by British police.”

“That’s unavoidable,” Violetta says. “Look, I’m going to call Agatha and Tarvek and tell them to get their butts over here, since you three were involved in that whole von Zinzer disaster. Once they’re here, Trelawney will turn you over. Klaus’ll have a panic attack and Trelawney will come clean about Albia ordering your kidnapping, okay?”

“That’s… surprisingly amenable for one of Tarvek’s Smoke Knights,” Gil says.

Violetta grins. “Tawny, you on board?”

“Yep,” Trelawney says.

Six months later, Agatha Heterodyne is throwing the party of the century in an Irish castle she somehow owns, celebrating the conclusion of the von Zinzer murder trial and the acquittal of Gil Wulfenbach. Trelawney Thorpe is there, a minor celebrity in her own right after her fiery resignation letter from her position as Spark of the Realm that had implicated Albia in various illegal acts beyond just kidnapping Gil (Interpol had given her a job offer right after that, but she’d rejected it to take time to decide what she wants to do). She stands off to the side, watching Agatha, Gil, and Tarvek Sturmvoraus lovingly and tenderly interact with each other. Some emotion deep within her is activated.

Letta’s got to be around here somewhere. She passes the buffet table, where Ardsley Wooster has gotten himself into a heated discussion with Sparafucile about where six slices of American bacon and two fried eggs is a good breakfast. Bang DuPree is over by the fountain, fighting with Zeetha Wulfenbach, Gil’s sister and Agatha’s best friend who had just returned from a twelve-month off-the-grid survival adventure with her boyfriend Axel Higgs. Over at the tennis courts, Seffie von Blitzengaard is flirting with Colette Voltaire, who is trying to not get caught in a romantic entanglement with a foreign national by the French media. Klaus Wulfenbach stares pensively into a pond, wondering where exactly everything went so wrong. She walks by Van von Mekkhan, the property manager for much of the Agagilvek set, and Moloch von Zinzer (who, despite Agatha’s involvement in his brother’s death, remains her right-hand man) trying to fix a broken window that had happened when Gil’s latest drone adventure had deviated from the flight plan. Violetta Mondarev is nowhere to be seen.

Trelawney Thorpe turns a corner of a hallway a bit too fast and collides with someone; they both skid on the stone floor, spinning slightly.

Trelawney stands up as soon as she can. “I’m so sorry —”

“Don’t be,” Violetta Mondarev says. “Tawny, I ran into you.”

“Oh, Letta, but I hit you.”

“We both hit each other, and we’ll be here all day if we want to determine whose fault that is.”

“I’d spend all day with you, Letta.”

“If this is your way of hinting to me you want to get back together, yes, Tawny.”

“I don’t care that we’d be long-distance —”

“I’m moving to London.” Violetta smiles. “I’ve been planning it for a while. We won’t be long-distance starting, oh, early next month.”

Trelawney jumps up and hugs Violetta.

“Uh, can I have a little bit less of the suffocation?” Violetta asks, gently prying Trelawny’s arms off her.

“Right, sorry, I forgot,” Trelawney says.

Two years after that, the angel investor marries the MI5 analyst-turned-spy novelist. After they return from their honeymoon, they start opening their wedding presents.

From Agatha Heterodyne, a miniature Fun Sized Mobile Agony and Death Dispenser, with the attached note of “Remember Budapest, when great times were had by all”.

From Tarvek Sturmvoraus, a set of fine linen, embroidered with maps of places that he thought were significant to them.

From Gil Wulfenbach, a cardboard box with the tag “From Albia with ‘Love’” that contained the wedding cake toppers that had mysteriously disappeared after the reception, along with a letter.

Trelawney and Violetta —

Congratulations on the marriage! We’re so happy for you.

Agatha thought you’d like a memento of Budapest, which Tarvek thought was a bit tactless, but in the end, we agreed that it was certainly a memorable time for all. Tarvek went with the linen because — sorry, Trelawney — he didn’t think that the current set you have was very pretty (Gil disagreed, but we’ve all seen that coat of his, so his color sense is automatically disqualified). Gil insisted on stealing the cake toppers and doing this whole thingamajig with the box as his way of (finally) thanking you for dealing with the time Albia kidnapped him. We were all worried sick.

We hope you’ve had a wonderful honeymoon! If you’re not deathly sick of travelling by now, we’d like to invite you to join us in Geneva for the holidays this year.

Your friends,

Agatha & Gil & Tarvek

Read on AO3.

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (22) Night

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 22)

I'm so sorry. Go get those tissues. I've used all of mine.

Summary: Rosie gets devastating news, and all she can think of is how her Papa is coping.

Twenty-Two Years Old

When Dad called with the news, my first thought was quite irrational: oh no, we’re never going to celebrate our twentieth anniversary! The second thought hit me with force and made me breathless: how is Papa doing?

“I’ll hop on the next…”

“No need, sweetheart. A car will pick you up in approximately fifteen minutes,” Dad assured me, and that’s when I started to cry.

***

Uncle Myc stood and waited for me outside the car when I ran to the kerb. His arms opened and I collapsed against him, heartbroken and totally devastated. He didn’t try to comfort me with words of nonsense, like it’s going to be ok, because he knew it would be a long time before any of us would be fine after this sudden and tragic loss.

“She seemed fine yesterday,” I told uncle Myc on the way home.

“Yes, so I have been…informed,” he sighed.

“How is he?” I asked, terrified of the answer.

“As expected.”

“Rock bottom,” I mumbled, and felt my throat tighten painfully from withheld tears.

“Indeed,” uncle agreed gravely.

***

It was worse than I expected. Papa’s loud voice boomed like a signal horn from upstairs when I locked us in.

“How could you not have seen the signs? You’re a bloody doctor, John!”

The words were spit like venom. I couldn’t discern Dad’s reply, but his voice was calm. He knew Papa wasn’t angry at him, but he needed to vent his sorrow, shock and devastation at someone. Luckily for everyone involved, Papa had chosen the right person for such an onslaught.

Before I climbed the stairs, I looked over at Nana’s door.

Gone. Dead. You’ll never see her again. There’ll be no more Christmas baking. She’ll never scold Papa for being petulant anymore. England has fallen.

The seventeen steps had never been so steep, my body never so heavy, and at the same time it felt hollow. 

“Nearly there, Rosamund,” uncle Myc murmured from behind me.

I woke from my daze and realised that the shouting had stopped. In its wake came a sound so heartbreaking, it made tears flow down my cheeks. Before I opened the door, a thought hit me like a battering ram, making me lose my balance for a moment.

If Papa mourned Nana like this, he would be utterly destroyed if Dad died before him. Not even his biological family’s demise could elicit such grief from him.

***

Inside the flat, Papa clung to Dad, and it struck me how small he seemed in that moment. So lost and bereft. This was not a puzzle he could solve, or a culprit he could catch to make everything right again.

“Rosie’s home,” Dad whispered to Papa and reached for me.

I didn’t think Papa would let go of Dad, give me room, or even detect the words, but he did. My name seemed to have a magical effect on him, because he straightened, turned his pained face at me and lifted his arm to indicate that I was welcomed into his and Dad’s cocoon. We held on to each other for what felt like hours. Dad asking if we were alright, Papa muttering something under his breath, and I just clung to my parents, wordless.

Dad, always reliable in a crisis, remembered that there was another person present, and carefully entangled himself after kissing us both, guiding our arms to embrace. Papa mumbled his name questioningly.

“Just give me a few minutes, Sherlock. Take care of Rosie, yeah?”

Papa nodded and pulled me closer, cradling the back of my head, whispering my precious girland I’m so sorry you have to go through this, and she loved you like a granddaughter.

***

The days leading up to the funeral alternated between the three of us sharing memories about the core of 221 Baker Street, what we would miss most about her, and lots and lots of crying. 

Dad was our rock in all of this, despite that he grieved his former landlady too. Some nights, Papa was inconsolable, and I thought his heart would literally break. He curled up in bed and sobbed full of despair. Only Dad could hope to console him, coaxing him out of the dark place he had locked himself in.

Both me and Papa agreed that we would honour Martha Hudson on the day of the funeral. Nana’s niece, Deidre, was her only living relative, and uncle Myc assured her that we would arrange everything if she weren’t able. From what Dad told me, she was relieved, having just started her tattoo studio, and she was quite short of money after the investments. 

***

Leaving uncle Myc and his minions in charge of the ceremony, proved to be ingenious, as we all expected. Even Nana would’ve been pleased with him, I think.

It all took place at Pembroke Lodge in Richmond Park. The Grade II listed Georgian Mansion is a beautiful and tranquil place, posh, but not over the top. 

The pleasantly warm weather allowed us to go dressed without jackets and coats. To honour Nana, all of us wore something purple, her favourite colour. Even uncle Myc acquiesced to leave his black suit at home, and instead he wore a light grey three-piece-suit with a deep purple tie.

Deidre showed up with purple nail polish, her black hair in spikes, the dramatic makeup intact, purple leather trousers, and a matching jacket with a black shirt underneath. Her Doc Martens boots were bright red. She was over the moon about the venue and to what lengths we’d gone to ensure a proper farewell for her aunt.

***

We didn’t know all the mourners, but I think I spotted a few celebrities who wore gigantic sunglasses and hats to hide their identities, which obviously had the opposite effect. 

Ginny, who conducted the ceremony was a calming presence throughout, and informed the congregation that there would be one speech apart from her own, and musical elements performed by a pianist and Papa on violin.

Papa held it together through his potpourri of Nana’s favourite classical pieces. He had his eyes closed and lost himself in the music. It was heartbreakingly beautiful. Beside me Dad clasped my hand firmly and never took his eyes off Papa. Admiration, love, sorrow and grief washed over his face in quick succession. He rose when Papa lowered his bow and looked over at the coffin that was decorated with purple lilacs. I saw the moment his knees gave way, but Dad was already at his side holding him close whispering something in his ear. I went over to them to pry the violin and bow out of Papa’s limp hands and let him lean into Dad’s arms.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Dad murmured teary-eyed.

Papa’s sobbing was muffled by his face being buried in Dad’s neck. Dad’s hand cradled the back of Papa’s head like it was a delicate object made of china. Slowly, Dad led Papa back to his seat and he held him tight until it was my turn to honour my beloved Nana.

The night I decided how to do it, Dad and Papa asked if I was sure I would manage it on my own. I retorted that of course I would. I was not a child anymore. What I hadn't considered was that reading a poem out loud in my room was completely different than performing it in front of a crowd, not to mention the emotional impact this performance would have on me.

I got to my feet when Ginny gave the signal and walked over to stand beside the coffin and opened the book on the correct page. Dad and Papa noticed before I did. Something gave me away. Did the book tremble in my hands, did my legs quiver, or did my breathing start to go wild with panic? Whatever it was, they both stood, came over to me, embraced me with their backs to the onlookers to shield me.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this, Bee?” Papa asked with a thick voice filled to the brim with withheld tears.

“You don’t have to, you know. Nobody would…” 

I cut Dad off abruptly feeling the soothing effect the closeness of my parents had on me.

“I’m sure. Stay, will you?” I said quietly.

“Of course,” they retorted in unison.

***

I took a deep breath, let go of my parents and we all turned to the other mourners and I started to read with one father on each side, radiating comfort and love.

Warning

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple  With a red hat which doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me.  And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves  And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.  I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired  And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells  And run my stick along the public railings  And make up for the sobriety of my youth.  I shall go out in my slippers in the rain  And pick flowers in other people’s gardens  And learn to spit.  You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat  And eat three pounds of sausages at a go  Or only bread and pickle for a week  And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.  But now we must have clothes that keep us dry  And pay our rent and not swear in the street  And set a good example for the children.  We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.  But maybe I ought to practice a little now?  So, people who know me are not too shocked and surprised  When suddenly I am old and start to wear purple.

Today, I will nudge you in the direction of AO3 and the end notes to give you some context

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @raina-at

More tags in the replies

[lifethenegaverseandeverything]

[kyouka-supremacy]

Thinking about pre getting together sskk where Atsushi can sense Akutagawa is significantly more relaxed and affable with him when they're alone yet cold and mean every time there's other people around and he's deeply hurt by the change and them fighting over it and them telling each other “So you're mad I'm kind at you? What do you want Jinko” “I want you to hate me when we're alone too” because. yeah

[dailyzineprompt]

Daily Zine Prompt:

May 22

Make a zine about defunct technologies. Could be rotary phones, or super old irrigation techniques. There's some real cool stuff out there!

[silverview]

cataloguing obscure bits of dh lore/best gags from the live q&a posts they did in 2017 ... "sometimes people are just good friends"

[serickswrites]

You Can Lead a Bitch

Warnings: head injury, blood, amnesia

“Whumpee! Whumpee! Can you hear me?” Caretaker shouted through the rubble. 

They couldn’t believe that Whumper would be so reckless to set off the pipe bomb inside the office space. But Whumper was irrational and deranged. They came out mostly unscathed--just a few minor cuts and scratches. But they couldn’t find Whumpee. 

Whumpee had been standing closest to Whumper. Had been closest to the bomb. The fist around Caretaker’s heart, clenching it so tight that they couldn’t breathe, wouldn’t let go until they found Whumpee. 

As they sifted through the rubble, they heard a groan. “Whumpee?” Caretaker shoved the broken pieces of desk, of ceiling tiles, of anything to get to the person below the pile. It had to be Whumpee. It just had to be. 

Whumpee’s hair was coated in dust and blood. “Whumpee!” Caretaker sagged with relief. 

Whumpee groaned but didn’t respond. They blinked unfocused eyes up at Caretaker. 

“Don’t move, Whumpee, help is on the way.” They reached down to stroke Whumpee’s cheek, to offer them some physical comfort while they waited for someone to pull them out of the rubble. 

Whumpee flinched away from their touch, unfocused eyes going wide. “Wha?”

“Whumpee, it’s ok. It’s me, Caretaker. Whumper set off a bomb. You’re going to be ok. We’re just waiting for the fire department. You’re ok.”

And then Whumpee asked the most heart breaking question Caretaker had ever heard with quiet, slurred words, “Wh-Wh-Who arrrrre yo-yo-you?”

[leffee]

Day 22: Animal shelter

“How about this one?” Minka pointed at the cute little pug sitting in its compartment, chewing on a squeaky bone toy. 

“Hmm.” Penny walked up and checked the name. “Puddles, huh? Aww, that’s quite adorable.” She smiled softly, but still, she was not convinced. “But I don’t know…”

“Then how about this one?” Zoe called her over to where she was eyeing another dog. “I think she’s magnificent.”

Penny couldn’t help the wide smile when she saw a cavalier king charles spaniel reacting to her by barking and wagging her tail. “She does look great, but I just don’t know.”

“Penny, honey, I hate to be impatient, but…” Minka who bounced over to them exchanged glances with Zoe who hesitated, “we have been in here for a while and so far you’re unsure about each dog.”

“I know,” Penny sighed and continued strolling slowly, the small compartments lining the walls on her both sides, the dogs reacting to her with so much energy not even Minka could compare. “I think they’re all great, but at the same time I can only take one, so I want it to… click, I guess. Something just needs to tell me that it’s the right dog for me, but I don’t want to limit myself either.”

“Maybe you should get a cat instead then? Maybe they’ll be easier to-,” Minka paused her chatter once Penny stopped abruptly in front of one of the bigger compartments. “Hm?” She and Zoe both moved to see what kind of dog their friend was inspecting.

As soon as Zoe did though, “...I don’t know about this one, Penny.”

“I want her.”

“She…” Zoe checked the name. “Lady, yes, she looks quite frazzled.” The three girls stared at the older dalmatian. Lady wasn’t asleep, but contrary to most dogs she didn’t react to the arrival of a new potential adopter.

“That’s exactly why I want her.” Penny stopped fixing her eyes on the dog instead giving Zoe a look, making her flinch a little. “Look, she clearly doesn’t think she has a chance, poor thing. Most people want small, cute, young dogs, and I understand that, but if everyone only thinks of owning those, who will help dogs like Lady? She deserves to live however long she has in the best environment possible, not in some cage-like area,” Penny finished but now she was the one to flinch upon noticing the tears in the corners of Zoe’s eyes. “Oh, Zoe, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, I just… uh…”

“No, it’s alright, I understand what you’re saying.” Zoe wiped the few tears away and smiled. “I'm not upset that you corrected me, I was just moved by your words.”

“Tell me that.” Penny turned to Minka - she was not crying at all, but her gaze was fondly placed on Lady. “Well then, get her!”

“Right! Give me a moment.” Penny turned on her heel to look for a worker.

While she was gone, Zoe and Minka lingered close to Lady’s space, though Minka couldn’t stop herself from greeting all the remaining dogs, their barks now lessened but still filling the air. While the dalmatian still didn’t move from her spot, they both could have sworn they saw her looking at them more often, barely glancing, but definitely paying attention to them especially when Minka started cheering her on.

“Don’t worry, Lady! You’re gonna get adopted, I promise.” A wag, a second one, a third one…

Those wags might have been hesitant in nature, but the immediate speed up when Penny returned with a worker who opened the compartment was undeniable. Once they all exited the shelter, with Penny barely being able to hold Lady in place even on the leash, they all knew the choice made was the right one.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Feels weird saying that knowing that my dog was not from one, but I was also like 10 at that time, anyway, if you want a dog, adopt it from a shelter, k? And don't forget about older and/or bigger dogs, they're less "popular" but still need a home.

[renee-writer]

May Prompts Day 22 Bad

We all are

Oh you may believe yourself

Good

Compared to others

By human standards

You may well be

But

Human standards aren’t

What He goes by

In His standards

We all fall short

Our badness is very very bad

Praise God

His Goodness is indescribably

Good!

[jegulus-microfic]

May - Day 22: Flower

You can find the rules here and the FAQs here.

[smolcrow465]

Day 27 (2023): Beast

Everyone asumed him to be a mimic. Just a beast who was incapable of further transformation. He had them all fooled. How ironic when in a room full of beasts, the only monster was the human.

[sennamybeloved]

⛧ SELFSHIPTOBER 2024 ⛧

HELLO ALL! welcome to another year of selfshiptober. i've noticed this is pretty much the 'official' selfship tober event now, which honestly warms my heart! i love seeing what this wonderful community does with my prompts :)

this year, i'm doing things a little differently. EACH DAY HAS TWO PROMPTS ASSIGNED TO IT. the first set is SHIPPY, while the second set is SPOOKY. you may either COMBINE THE TWO PROMPTS TOGETHER or CHOOSE ONE OF THE PROMPTS. the spooky prompts are a bit on the grittier side and probably won't appeal to most, so if you'd like to only use the first set of prompts and completely ignore the second, be my guest! on the other hand, if you prefer the gritter prompts, you can only use the second set of prompts, you can do that too! if you want an extra challenge, you can create a piece that incorporates both of the day's prompts. you can also change your approach depending on how you feel that day!

there are no hard rules for this. YOU CAN START WORKING ON THIS CHALLENGE EARLY, but i encourage you to wait until october to post anything. YOU CAN ALSO CONTINUING WORKING ON IT AFTER OCTOBER ENDS! you can drag this shit out into december for all i care. just DON'T OVERWORK YOURSELF PLEASE.

without further ado, LET US PROCEED TO THE PROMPTS!

#1. confession  |  night.

#2. blanket  |  flame.

#3. embrace  |  blood.

#4. apple picking  |  fog.

#5. all dressed up  |  blade.

#6. carnival  |  haunted.

#7. rain  |  infection.

#8. swim  |  terror.

#9. music  |  masquerade.

#10. warmth  |  claws.

#11. comfort  |  recovery.

#12. married  |  ritual.

#13. party  |  magic.

#14. date night  |  vampire.

#15. games  |  hunt.

#16. candy  |  illusion.

#17. heart  |  feast.

#18. pining  |  violent.

#19. shared hobby  |  potion.

#20. trust  |  experiment.

#21. snuggle  |  nightmare.

#22. kiss  |  scars.

#23. movie night  |  slasher.

#24. baking  |  empty.

#25. rest  |  bandages.

#26. beautiful  |  grotesque.

#27. decorations  |  cemetery.

#28. brush  |  forest.

#29. pumpkin  |  lantern.

#30. flowers  |  snow.

#31. halloween  |  death.

TAG YOUR CREATIONS AS #SELFSHIPTOBER 2024 AND TAG ME IF YOU'D LIKE ME TO SEE! i cannot guarantee interaction as i struggle socially, but i promise i'll look at everything! HAPPY CREATING ♡

[alwaysanundertone]

KINKTOBER 2024

Hey! This is my first time joining this challenge, so I’m asking you, once again, to be kind 💓

Anyways, here’s the prompts, I may change something along the way but I think that you can already have a rough idea.

If you want to be tagged on them, comment this post and I will tag you 🩷 sending lots of kisses mwuah

Day 1: oral (fem receiving) | James Potter x fem! reader

Day 2: food play | wolfstar x fem! reader

Day 3: multiple orgasms | poly!marauders + Lily x fem! reader

Day 4: wax play | rosekiller x fem! reader

Day 5: aftercare | poly! marauders + Lily x fem! reader

Day 6: sensory deprivation | Sirius Black x fem! reader

Day 7: daddy kink | Draco Malfoy x fem! reader

Day 8: first time | Regulus Black x fem! reader

Day 9: somnophilia | Jegulus x fem! reader

Day 10: choking | Barty Crouch Jr x fem! reader

Day 11: begging | Remus Lupin x fem! reader

Day 12: mirror play | Regulus Black x fem! reader

Day 13: overstimulation | Enzo Berkshire x fem! reader

Day 14: bet’s on | rosekiller x fem! reader

Day 15: sensation play | poly! marauders x fem! reader

Day 16: knives play | rosekiller x fem! reader

Day 17: being ignored kink | Theodore Nott x fem! reader

Day 18: spanking | Remus Lupin x fem! reader

Day 19: dirty talk | Sirius Black x fem! reader

Day 20: lap dance | Mattheo Riddle x fem! reader

Day 21: fingering | Blaise Zabini x fem! reader

Day 22: magic | Tom Riddle x fem! reader

Day 23: praise kink | poly! marauders + Lily x fem! reader

Day 24: temperature play | Sirius Black x fem! reader

Day 25: squirting | Lorenzo Berkshire x fem! reader

Day 26: public tease | James Potter x fem! reader

Day 27: breeding kink | Remus Lupin x fem! reader

Day 28: cockwarming | wolfstar x fem! reader

Day 29: orgasm denial | Jegulus x fem! reader

Day 30: bondage | Barty Crouch Jr x fem! reader

Day 31: mask | poly! marauders x fem! reader

[ageplay-may]

Let’s get wild! Today’s sugar prompt is "Dinosaurs," and spice is "Primal Play"!

---

Prompts || Ao3 Collection

Tags: @ageplay-may || #agepl4y may 2023

[sapphicmicrofics]

May 22: Pottery Open to any Harry Potter femslash ship. We aim for a word count between 50 and 500, but any length is allowed. Post your fic on Tumblr (tag this blog in the post and use the hashtag #sapphicmicrofics).

Please tag your works for any potential warnings, and if you want you can add them to this AO3 collection. For more rules check here!

You can also still write for any previous prompt!

Inspiration

Potential Ships: Emmeline/Amelia, Luna/Marietta, Millicent/Lavender Potential Associations: A child making a mug or ashtray for their parents at school, taking a pottery class together (or falling in love with the teacher), dropping the vase your mother-in-law gave you, breaking an urn, throwing a plate against the wall during an argument, fun and weird thrift shop finds, fixing broken pottery.

(This is purely for inspiration and by no means a guideline or limitation!)

See the other prompts for this month here! See the previously written works here! For any questions, ask here!

[febuwhump]

FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPT LIST

this year's prompts were chosen through a suggestion poll (in which we recevied 2,281 prompts) and a subsequent vote, where over 1,000 people voted for their favourites. the top 29 make up the core prompts, and a mixture of the next most popular - and this blog's personal favourites - have become the alternates

i’m so excited to see what you all create with these prompts, and hope they’re inspiring enough to trigger a whole month’s worth of creativity for you! if you have any questions, please check out the blog's faq before sending an ask, or check out the previously asked questions on the blog!

please note: this year, notifying the blog of completionist status will happen through a google form that will be released closer to the end of febuwhump.

full write-up of prompts and rules under the cut:

FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPTS:

DAY 1: helpless

DAY 2: solitary confinement

DAY 3: "bite down on this"

DAY 4: obedience

DAY 5: rope burns

DAY 6: "you lied to me"

DAY 7: suffering in silence

DAY 8: "why won't it stop?"

DAY 9: bees

DAY 10: killing in self defence

DAY 11: time loop

DAY 12: semi-conscious

DAY 13: "you weren't supposed to get hurt"

DAY 14: blood-stained tiles

DAY 15: "who did this to you?"

DAY 16: came back wrong

DAY 17: hostage situation

DAY 18: too weak to move

DAY 19: "please don't"

DAY 20: truth serum

DAY 21: unresponsive

DAY 22: "you weren't meant to be there"

DAY 23: presumed dead

DAY 24: "i'm doing this because i care about you"

DAY 25: waterboarding

DAY 26: "help them"

DAY 27: left for dead

DAY 28: "no... not like this"

DAY 29: not allowed to die

ALTERNATE PROMPTS:

is there a specific day’s prompt you don’t want to fill? here are ten alternatives you can switch them out for!

ALT 1: human shield

ALT 2: "i love you"

ALT 3: found footage

ALT 4: human weapon

ALT 5: cpr

ALT 6: immortality

ALT 7: last words

ALT 8: killing game

ALT 9: lightning strike

ALT 10: last man standing

RULES:

SOFT RULES:

prompts should be answered in the form of whump

creators can produce whatever kind of media they want

you don’t have to complete all the prompts! you can create however much you want to

you can use the prompts after the event ends and can complete them in tandem with any other event

you can post on any platform you want, however this blog will only be sharing those posted on tumblr

if you want to be featured on the hall of fame then you have until the 3rd of March to inform this blog that you completed all the days

if you have questions consult the faq before asking

HARD RULES: (specifically for being featured on the blog)

when uploading febuwhump content to tumblr, please use the tags:

febuwhump (i’ll also be checking febuwhump2024)

the relevant day’s tag e.g. febuwhumpday1, febuwhumpday2…

nsfw (if relevant)

and any trigger warnings that may be important!

you can also tag the blog, @febuwhump

i cannot guarantee your work will be archived on the blog because I have no idea how many participants there will be. a random selection of works tagged in accordance to the rules above will be reblogged every day of february.