bbu-on-the-side

[bbu-on-the-side]

Thinking about companions (/workers/boxies) who are deemed un-refurbishable/no longer fit for external service being used as whipping boys for new trainees. It doesn't work in every case (sometimes you brainwash out the empathy, amiright?) but when it does, new companions have higher contract values because they are unmarked and unfit companions still have purpose from driving that value.

bonus: as part of punishments, a trainee is responsible for caretaking of their whipping boy after.

[bbu-on-the-side]

Holiday themed BBU prompts

For RPs, fics or daydreaming!

HOME

- Owner taking their boxie home to their family for the first time and...

- Family is critical

- Family is way too curious

- The boxie gets to meet owner's childhood boxies

- Boxie being told they need to stay home alone, because owner's family won't approve of a pet

- An owner getting gifts for their boxie

- People gifts?

- Pet gifts?

- Boxie becoming part of a Christmas decoration

- Boxie given as a gift

- Person being given a Boxie as a gift

- Is it a dream come true?

- Or a nightmare?

-... Is someone jealous?

FACILITY

- Handlers being in a festive mood

- Particularly nice...

- ... or particularly mean?

- Trainee becoming part of a facility Christmas party

- An official one...

- ... or less so?

- Employee taking a trainee home for the holidays

- Trainee being part of an advertisement as an exclusive gift

[bbu-on-the-side]

Playing with the pet - pet whump prompt

I was thinking about how when I was a child - and still now, to be honest ☺️ - when I visited people with pets I always wanted to play with and hang out with their pets and how that was the best part of the visit for me.

What about this, but with pet whump?

There’s often stories about guests borrowing pets to treat them badly, but I don’t often see stories of guests being nice to the pets. (Could still be really dehumanising.)

What about a starving whumpee being hand fed by their owner’s guest? The owner looking on with amusement. ‘You are really spoiling them, you know.’

What about a neglected whumpee being pet and praised and cuddled by their owner’s guests? Someone finally seeing the pet and paying it attention?

What about visiting children playing games with the whumpee? Maybe nice games, or maybe the kids are too small to understand that they are hurting their pet friend?

A guest taking whumpee for a walk - and whumpee usually never even gets to go outside?

A guest noticing whumpee being hurt, and insisting they get medical care?

A whumpee lying with their head in the guest’s lap while they pet their hair and instantly falling asleep. The guest being delighted at the sweet pet and not knowing that this is the first proper rest the pet has got for a good while.

A whumpee proudly showing off their best tricks with guests as a delighted audience.

“He/she really likes you.” Said by owner to guest about whumpee.

A shy or introverted guest sneaking away from a party in full swing to instead hang out with the household pet.

Feel free to add more! And if you use the prompts or already have a post like this, I’d love it if you tagged me! ❤️

I tried to write a post like this, but I want more! My attempt at Playing with the pet can be found here.

[bbu-on-the-side]

Holiday themed BBU prompts

For RPs, fics or daydreaming!

HOME

- Owner taking their boxie home to their family for the first time and...

- Family is critical

- Family is way too curious

- The boxie gets to meet owner's childhood boxies

- Boxie being told they need to stay home alone, because owner's family won't approve of a pet

- An owner getting gifts for their boxie

- People gifts?

- Pet gifts?

- Boxie becoming part of a Christmas decoration

- Boxie given as a gift

- Person being given a Boxie as a gift

- Is it a dream come true?

- Or a nightmare?

-... Is someone jealous?

FACILITY

- Handlers being in a festive mood

- Particularly nice...

- ... or particularly mean?

- Trainee becoming part of a facility Christmas party

- An official one...

- ... or less so?

- Employee taking a trainee home for the holidays

- Trainee being part of an advertisement as an exclusive gift

[bbu-on-the-side]

Collecting BBU-whump-themed Christmas pieces! Do you have any? Or recommendations of someone else's? If so - please share the links in a reblog or in the comments!

I'll collect them in this post and also reblog them on @bbu-whump-reblogs, this time allowing older pieces as well! So please, share on! 💕

[bbu-on-the-side]

Thank you so much! This archive only works if people partake and the collection grows, so please add your stories / pieces as you go, and also feel free to link other people's stories!

BBU 'standard' scenes and tropes

In my connect-the-community craze, I have another idea - for new writers and all readers:

A little overview on the most classic tropes and iconic moments of BBU, with the opportunity for you to link your own takes at it, as a little navigation.

The list follows here (readmore for more); I take your suggestions for what to add, and I'll make a separate post for every item that you can reblog with links to your own story featuring that.

I'll start with part I and will add to it later, also taking suggestions on what to add!

Part I: Beginning

Recruitment / Sign-Up (voluntary)

Abduction / Sign-Up (involuntary)

Intake Papers

The Drip

Takes on training / facility whump

Shipping out

-

Part II: Owner / Whumper

Unboxing

Naming the pet

Setting up rules

Punishment

Showing Off the Boxie

tbc

-

Part III: Runaway

tbc

-

Part IV: Safehouse / Caretaker

Choosing a name

First Bath

First Meal

Scar Reveal

Boxie asking to be used

Boxie breaking caretaker's property

Nightmares

tbc

-

Part V: Recapture/ Refurb/ Back at WRU

tbc

[bbu-on-the-side]

As I got a lot of interesting answers in my peer group, here's a question for all of you:

How would your whumpee's owner react, if whumpee were kidnapped for ransom?

[bbu-on-the-side]

Just as a one-liner, I have a new blog, @bbu-whump-reblogs, to boost all the fics and art you post. Please consider following to find and meet and support new friends and new stories!

[bbu-on-the-side]

With whumptober coming up, I made a blog just to boost and reblog BBU content.

Feel free to tag it for your new BBU stuff, add it to any BBU tag list, and also point me to new writers in the community (or lead new writers to it).

I'll start reblogging some masterposts and recent pieces from the community, but am very excited to see and boost your new stuff!

Hi!

This blog was created as a side to @bbu-on-the-side (yes, there's a lot of sides), to reblog and boost all your whump content that is set in the collaborative BBU sandbox (or adjacent).

Please send me (new!) posts or (existing or new) masterposts, and I'll share them here.

Rules

If you create BBU content and want to be reblogged, just tag this blog.

Adult content will only be reblogged if it comes with the adult content label.

(That's the only rule for now; might be expanded)

FAQ

What is the BBU?

The BBU is a collaborative dystopian universe that has been cultivated by the whump community of tumblr. It's in an alternative near-future similar to our world, with a legal form of slavery / serfdom that is based on (voluntary) sign ups, drug-induced memory loss and institutionalized conditioning.

There's a huge spectrum of possible content and tropes. Sometimes it overlaps with pet whump, but doesn't have to.

More info will be linked soon.

[bbu-on-the-side]

Prompts, rules and bonus badge categories!

Hi! So, I've decided to run a whump event in September. See below for the prompts, rules and information about bonus badges (plain text below the cut).

Prompts

A is for Apology

B is for Bawl

C is for Collar

D is for Discipline

E is for Emotion

F is for Food

G is for Gag

H is for Home

I is for Illness

J is for Job

K is for Kneel

L is for Lies

M is for Memory

N is for Name

O is for Obedience

P is for Pet

Q is for Quiet

R is for Reinforcement

S is for Shelter

T is for Training

U is for Uniform

V is for Vivisection

W is for Water

X is for X-ray

Y is for You

Z is for Zip

Bonus:

0-9

!?#@

non-Latin characters

Rules

You can use any media, and any length/size

No AI

NSFWhump is allowed - please tag accordingly!

You can fill as little or as many of the prompts as you like, in any order

Prompts can be combined or filled multiple times

For bonus prompts: you can use any number, symbol or non-Latin character respectively as your prompt - please mention which character etc it is!

Tag fills with #alphabetwhump and #alphabetwhump24

There is an AO3 collection: Alphabet of Whump 2024, or aow24

The event runs 1 - 31 September

Fill in the Google form after the event to be added to the Hall of Fame

There will be bonus badges!

Bonus badges

Participant

Completionist (Fill all 26 main prompts)

Bonus blast (Fill all bonus prompts)

Made a word! (Spell a word with your fills (eg if you filled water, home, uniform, memory, pet = WHUMP) (can include bonus fills))

Completionist+ (Fill all main + bonus prompts)

To claim, tick the appropriate box/es on the form after the event. I'll add you to the appropriate section of the Hall of Fame and you’ll receive it there!

[bbu-on-the-side]

BBU? what does that mean?

The BBU a collaborative dystopian universe in which a corporation has made a business of legal slavery that includes brainwashing and conditioning people, who officially "signed up" and sells them to rich people's households as so-called "pets". It's a surprisingly rich worlds that contains all sorts of whumpy stories, from highly political anti-capitalistic stances to classic pet whump to deep character studies to... well, whatever you can imagine.

There's some info on the universe to be found in this blog, for example in this post.

As for the abbreviation, it's for Box Boy Universe, as the "pets" are shipped out in boxes. The term however is from before the worldbuilding and lore grew so big, and as usual with such abbreviations doesn't cover the complexity that the universe contains now.

[bbu-on-the-side]

Guard Dog - Sean Masterpost

I (try to) tag and add content warnings per chapter for noncon/mentions, suicide/SH, guns, descriptions of mental health/chronic physical issues, emeto, gore, grievous bodily injury, and hospitalization.

There is a theme of parental abuse throughout the story; consider this a blanket CW.

1: Sean - Delivery Refused

2: Sean - Phone Call

3: Sean - Retrieval

4: Sean - A New Home

5: Sean - Breakfast

[bbu-on-the-side]

PSA: April's BBU Community Days are still open for entries for all prompts and days! Just tag this blog and I will share your entries during at least the entire month of May!

[bbu-on-the-side]

PSA: April's BBU Community Days are still open for entries for all prompts and days! Just tag this blog and I will share your entries during at least the entire month of May!

[bbu-on-the-side]

BBU Community Days | Day 15 | Collaboration

Masterpost | Rules

Transcript:

Create a piece of BBU content together with another community member! A crossover scene with both your characters, a collaboratively developed concept, an illustration to their story,... Anything goes, as long as you worked together within the BBU!

(And don't forget to @ this blog or use "#bbu community" to be reblogged)

[bbu-on-the-side]

BBU Community Days 2024, Day 13

April 26 / Writing Prompt: "MADE FOR IT" / Write a BBU story based on the prompt and share it!

CW: for institutionalized slavery, whipping, foot injury, blood, emotional abuse

Most boxboys were transported to their new owners after purchase in the boxes that inspired the term- long, narrow crates into which they were packed and shipped- but not KV1946. On the day he was sent to his Master, KV1946 was washed and dressed in slacks and a sport coat and ordered into the back seat of a car. He was careful not to wrinkle the clothing when he fastened the seat belt and he folded his hands carefully in front of him and sat very still during the ride.

He would have liked to spend more time looking out the window, but he had been instructed to sit properly, which meant straightening his spine and looking directly ahead. KV1946 tried not to feel nervous and instead focused on remembering his training. There would be cleaning to do, household management, serving at meals... he could do those things. He had been trained. Perhaps he would be able to please his Master.

It was slightly more than an hour before KV1946 saw a large house come into view. It was situated in the middle of extensive, beautifully manicured grounds and the car pulled up in a circular drive out front. KV1946 sat very still until the WRU employee who was driving ordered him to get out and stood to greet her client.

Someone had opened the door and his Master was coming down the wide front steps, smiling broadly. He was in middle age, dressed in a fine suit and adjusting his cuffs in a way that suggested he didn't need to adjust them but wanted the WRU lady to know he was the kind of man who wore cufflinks on a Tuesday morning.

"Welcome, welcome," he said, spreading his hands wide as if showing the WRU lady that the grounds were hers to enjoy, for the minutes she would be present on them. "Is this my young man, then?" He strode over to KV1946 and peered closely at him with a smile that was as much a show as the cufflinks.

KV1946 stood quietly, as he had been trained, with his hands clasped loosely in front of him; his new Master circled him very slowly, examining the merchandise.

"I'm told you did very well in your training," he said. "I was pleased to hear it. We hold very high standards, here." He looked KV1946 in the eye in a way that seemed to require a response. KV1946 lowered his eyes deferentially and said quietly, "Yes, Master."

The man gave a delighted little laugh. "Very good! Very good, indeed." Then he ignored KV1946 to speak briefly to the WRU employee and hand her an envelope with a discreet but substantial tip.

When KV1946's Master had finished speaking, even though the WRU lady was still right there, standing outside her car, he turned away from her and shifted his attention to the Pet as thoroughly as if she had never existed.

"Come inside," he ordered his newest purchase. "I will show you the house and acquaint you with your tasks. Referring to you by serial number is vulgar; you will be called Francis." And off he swept with KV1946- now Francis- following as quickly as he could.

The next hour was a whirlwind tour of the home and, to an extent, the grounds. Francis' responsibilities lay entirely inside, but Master wanted him to know where things were around the property, in case of some need. Francis hoped desperately that he could remember all of it and when he was told to go begin fixing lunch, was relieved to find that he knew the way to the kitchen.

Lunch was served without any particular difficulty and then Francis cleaned the kitchen until it sparkled. Afterwards, he retrieved Master's laundry and spent some time treating stains and loading the washing machine. After that, there was dusting in the office.

All the while, Master sat on the porch in the sunshine with a long-stemmed glass in hand. When he saw Francis, he looked very satisfied and said, "I don't know why I didn't get one of you a long time ago."

The satisfaction made Francis' heart leap. Master's happiness was his own sense of security and he found that he desperately wanted to hear another approving word. He would be perfect for Master. Master would like him and keep him and he would never be sent back to the WRU, like bad Pets were. Even the thought made Francis shiver. He had seen, at least enough to have an idea, what happened to Pets who were sent back.

Late that evening, Francis began to feel overwhelmed. It was hard to remember the long list of chores and the order in which they were to be completed. He wracked his brain, ignoring a slight headache, to remember whether he was to do the ironing before setting out Master's clothes for the following day, or after.

He guessed incorrectly and Master, now dressed in a smoking jacket, entered his room and frowned. "Where are my clothes?" he demanded of Francis, who froze and tried not to look as nervous as he felt.

"Master?"

"No, no 'Master'. You were to lay out a suit and then begin the ironing. I want to have my room all to myself, not spend my evening waiting on your pleasure to have clean clothes." He shook his head. "This is not what I was led to expect when I purchased you."

"This Pet is very sorry, Master." Francis hung his head. He could hear the rough, nervous edge in his voice.

"Finish the ironing and then go to the basement," Master said in a very firm tone.

Francis' hands were shaking as he finished the last few items and although he wasn't sure what would happen in the basement, he did know that he wasn't looking forward to finding out.

When he got there, Master was already standing at the bottom of the stairs, his arms crossed, with a small switch in his hand. There was a chair in the center of the room, away from the walls and the bit of bedding Francis was allowed- or would have been allowed, he thought. He would have to see if Master took it away for his infraction.

"I am going to be lenient on you, because it's your first day here," Master explained. "Sit in that chair and hold up one foot."

For a moment, Francis was mystified, and then he realized what Master planned to do. He sat and gripped the sides of the chair so that Master wouldn't see his hands trembling. Master took Francis' heel in one hand and raised the small whip, bringing it down on the sole of Francis' right foot with surprising force.

Francis let out a soft cry and then clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the noise. Master looked at him with something like disgust.

"What are you crying for already?" he asked. "It can't possibly hurt that badly. You were made for this, after all." He didn't seem to want a reply, which was as well. Francis kept his hand over his mouth as the whip connected again with the sole of his foot.

On the third blow, Master let out a small cry of his own and jumped back suddenly, letting Francis' foot fall to the floor.

"I've cut myself," Master exclaimed. He was holding up his left hand, which was bleeding from a single laceration across the backs of his fingers. Master made a noise of frustration and pain and then said through gritted teeth, "Wait here, I don't want you making a mess."

He disappeared for a moment and returned with a plastic box, which he thrust towards Francis. "It's a first aid kit. Bandage my hand for me."

The absurdity of the situation never occurred to Francis; he simply opened the kit, found an individually wrapped wipe to clean the wound and then the gauze and medical tape. While he dabbed away the blood, Master hissed and swore under his breath and when Francis had taped on the bandage, he shook his hand as if it smarted.

Francis almost dared to hope he would give up on the rest of the punishment, but there was no such luck. "Hold your foot out," Master said. Francis did so, holding his leg up with both hands under his knee. Using only one hand, Master continued the flogging, ignoring the drops of blood that fell to the floor. Francis pressed his lips tightly together to prevent another upsetting display of emotion that would only make this worse and waited for it to be over. When he thought he might not be able to stand any more, Master finally straightened up and nodded once.

"Clean that up," he said, gesturing to the blood spatters on the floor. "And I expect you on duty as I told you in the morning." Then he stalked up the stairs, taking the whip with him.

In the basement, Francis sat in the chair and tried to collect himself. His breath coming in shuddering sighs but he squeezed his eyes shut and fought to stay quiet and controlled. When he rose to clean the floor, he walked gingerly on the outside of his foot. His vision closed to a pinprick of light as he worked, shutting him off from the pain, pushing it away so that it felt almost like another entity. But when he finally lowered himself carefully to his cot, the agony washed up over Francis and he hugged his knee to his chest and cried himself to sleep.

In the morning, Francis was woken early by the pain. He was still clutching his knee and his foot still stung so badly that he was almost afraid to look at it. When he worked up the courage, the news was not good. The foot and ankle were badly swollen and the sole of his foot was covered in dried blood.

When he dressed, slowly and painfully, Francis found that his sock fit, though tightly, but he couldn't get his shoe on over it. He pulled at the shoe, tugging at the tongue and trying to force the heel, until he was crying again and was about to risk being late for his duties. At last, Francis gave up and ascended the stairs, fully dressed except for his wounded foot in its soft, white sock.

Master wasn't downstairs yet and Francis began the first chores of the day, limping badly as he made the rounds of the house to water the plants and then headed back to the kitchen to begin breakfast. He cooked eggs, toast and sausage and fried some tomatoes and arranged it all on a large plate. He brewed coffee and set a place at the dining room table with understated-but-elegant china and a crystal glass for orange juice. He placed a newspaper above Master's place and kept the food warm until Master seated himself at the table and rang for it.

Francis brought out the plate and went back for a mug of coffee and then for the orange juice, ready in a clear carafe to be poured fresh for Master. It was on the third trip that Master, nearing the end of the page he was reading, caught sight of Francis out of the corner of his eye and looked up in displeasure.

"What is that?" He asked, gesturing dismissively at Francis' feet.

"This Pet was unable to get his shoe on," Francis said in a very small voice. He found that his mouth had gone dry and it was hard to speak.

"This Pet has orders not to appear above stairs in less than immaculate condition," Master corrected him coldly. "I took care that you would be fit to serve. Go below stairs at once and fix the issue. Do not appear above stairs under-dressed again. My guests will be here for a morning garden party in one hour. I expect the porch swept and mimosas staged on the table. There will be finger sandwiches for lunch and you will stay outside to serve." He turned back to his newspaper, which meant that Francis was dismissed.

Shaking in the aftermath of his fear, Francis limped back down the stairs and almost fell onto his pallet, where the odd shoe sat. He eyed it with distaste for a moment, but there was no time to waste. It was going to be a busy morning and he would need to use all of the time to prepare. Francis tried again to put the shoe on, but still without success.

He took a moment for a deep breath and a sigh and then began to unlace the shoe completely. With the laces off, he was able to place his foot inside it and lace the shoe up, after a fashion. His foot was already beginning to throb and when he stood, it took all his training to keep him on his feet and headed up the stairs.

Francis was driven nearly to distraction by the pain, but he was somehow still upright and had even managed to put out a clean, white tablecloth and a vase of flowers to display the mimosas before Master's guests arrived. As ordered, Francis stationed himself next to the table with a tray to collect empty glasses and to keep the table supplied with drinks and light canapes.

Master greeted the guests and showed them to the back porch, handing each a drink as they passed through the door to mill about on the flagstones of the porch. The hand he had injured while punishing Francis remained bandaged and Master had placed it in a narrow black sling to go with his morning coat.

"You poor thing!" one of his guests cooed. "Whatever have you done to your hand?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Master said, clearly pleased at the attention. "Just a little cut, the doctor says everything ought to be fine before many weeks have passed." He waved the other hand languidly, dismissing the opinions of doctors who, he implied, fussed too much.

"You bear it very bravely, I'm sure," the woman assured him, patting his shoulder sympathetically. She finished her drink and held it out, secure in the knowledge that the help would be by to collect it immediately.

Francis moved away from the safety of the table to take the glass. He tried not to shuffle, which would probably make Master angry, but his foot was throbbing so badly that he could hardly think of anything else. He hoped he could go back and stand behind the table, in the shade, and put all his weight on his left foot for just a few minutes.

"Doesn't your pet mind just standing there like that?" another woman asked his Master. "Won't he get bored?" Master looked over as if he had only just noticed Francis standing there, as if he was so used to Francis that he was no more noticeable than the trees.

"I can't imagine so," Master said in a musing voice. "After all, isn't that what they're made for?"

The party lasted for a few hours and by the time he brought out the finger sandwiches, Francis was shaking and sick with pain. At each step, he wondered whether his leg would give way and drop him- and, more importantly, the sandwiches- to the ground, right there in front of all of Master's guests.

Somehow, he got through the rest of the morning and then the afternoon as well; luckily, Master seemed to be tired out by the effort of hosting and went to take a nap. Francis could limp as much as he needed and stand on his left foot only while he cooked and cleaned. The day went by very slowly, but in a strange haze. The foot went numb after several hours and Francis was a little relieved, although the numbness made it hard to balance when he walked.

At last, Master turned in for the night and Francis went back to the basement. He sat down on the top step and eased himself down with his right foot held in the air. At the bottom, he very carefully untied and unlaced the shoe and drew it off, his heart pounding uncomfortably as feeling came back into the swollen flesh. With feeling came terrible pain and Francis could feel the small supper he had been allowed turn over in his stomach. He hopped desperately to the toilet in the corner of the room, but nothing came up and after a few long moments, he finally collapsed onto his cot.

Later, Francis barely remembered that day. It was not so different from many of the ones that came after it and working while he was in pain became the most ordinary thing in the world for him. But it was one late night, in a different house entirely, that Master's words came back to him.

It had been a long day; Francis was still expending more energy than he knew in trying to understand his new home. Sir and Ma'am were kind, but could be confusing sometimes. Francis was always waiting for them to change, to become angry, to begin ordering him about. He did not expect to live without fear, but the relentless struggle to make sense of his new life was taking its toll.

That night, Sir carried Francis up to bed while Mikey and Nathan stayed downstairs with Ma'am. It was not so late, really, and the sun had only just dipped below the horizon, but Francis had been running hot all day and the pain in his feet was making him restless.

"I'm so sorry you aren't feeling better yet," Sir said, sounding like he meant it.

"Francis will be in working order soon," Francis replied. He hoped it was true.

"Don't worry about working," Sir said, for some reason, but it was in a cheerful tone that might almost have been a joke and Francis was more confused than frightened by the words. He wasn't sure how to respond, and so he didn't. Instead, he lay still and watched Sir bustle about.

Sir straightened his blankets so they laid across his shins, not over his bandaged feet where they would feel heavy and hurt Francis. Then Sir put a thermometer in his mouth and waited patiently for the result. After three minutes, he removed it, peered at it, and shook his head.

"It's about what I expected," he said and then placed a cool water bottle on Francis' head. It was soothing to his hot skin and racing mind and almost made Francis feel like he might be able to fall asleep.

Maybe it was the high fever that made him so bold, but Francis looked up at Sir, sitting there quietly, watching him with such worry on his face and he dared to ask a question.

"Sir- if Francis might be permitted- er- why are you and Ma'am doing all of this?"

"What, taking care of you guys?" Francis nodded and worried that maybe he shouldn't have spoken, in case Sir thought he was ungrateful.

Instead, Sir smiled and shrugged a little. "Humans take care of each other- it's just what we do. I guess we were made for it."

Master List

Notes: Some backstory for Francis!

Tag list: @pigeonwhumps, @cepheusgalaxy, @i-eat-worlds, @honeycollectswhump @taterswhump,

@starfields08000 @whumpsday, @fruitypinapple00, @currentlyinthesprial

[bbu-on-the-side]

BBU Community Days | Day 14 | Caretaker

Masterpost | Rules

Transcript:

Talk about your current favorite BBU caretaker

OCs - be it pet lib activists, loved ones or other boxies - (one OC of your own, one or more by someone else) with commentary on what makes them special to you!

Add links to their stories, if applicable.

(And don't forget to @ this blog or use "#bbu community" to be reblogged)