#mewrites

[whumping-in-the-dark]

"Say it. Say it or I'm shutting the door and it won't open again until you're dead out there."

[8-dermestid]

Girl, so confusing featuring poob

Warnings: recreational drug use, poob has a cocaine addiction

Relationships: PartyNoob/Lampert, Partylight

Notes: another oneshot related to my prev fic about lampert being a messy bitch, this fic is also available to read on ao3

Word Count: 1.7k

An email, a party, a mess never to be cleaned fully. Lampert can't stop squeezing toothpaste from the tube

The weirdest thing to happen to Lampert this week has got to be that she just received an email from Partynoob of all people.

She was busy… perusing old memories on her laptop, scanned photographs of her and Kasper before things turned sour. Existence has not been kind to her, forcing Lampert to chase a high she can never recapture. But looking at the photos helps a bit. Makes her sad, but seeing Kas's face the way it should be is worth the tears.

She opens the email, glancing at the packed list of recipients. Excluding herself, the list is over forty people. She scrolls down to the contents of the letter, into the sea of names. She ought to go, just to tell Partynoob that she isn't interested in whatever gross shenanigans they have planned in their disgusting apartment. She begins reading:

from:[email protected] to: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected]…[email protected]…

More emails Lampert doesn't care about, the list drones on until her eyes glance over a specific address: [email protected]

That piques her interest, she changes her mind on digitally crumpling up this email and tossing it in her digital trash.

subject: big prty at mah house!!!

HAIII!!!! IF U GOT DIS LETTR…. it means u r invited 2 my party!!!! 9pm 2nite! b dere or b square!!!<3<3<3

<3 poob :3

p.s…. here is mah house add!!!

Written below of Partynoob's address and apartment number. Lampert jots it down for later. Maybe.

Lampert can hear the music from beyond the Regretevator’s doors, and it only grows in volume and clarity the closer she gets. It becomes near-deafening, even with the door in the way.

And then it parts. It should be illegal for this many people to be in the same apartment. She needs to squeeze by a couple of guests---a fruitaur and CRT-headed rabbit girl---to even get out of the elevator. Lampert immediately kicks over someone's drink as soon as she seems to find her footing, pissing off the stranger on the couch.

She throws out a quick "Sorry." before scurrying away. There's no room for her, trying to navigate the swaths of people dancing in the middle of the room with the music so loud. Someone crashes into her and she bumps the table, rocking the bottles and cups. Lampert looks around frantically, fighting to navigate the raging tide of bodies. At least find somewhere to stand so she doesn't drown.

A stray arm pulls her aside too quick for comfort, and Lampert bumps into the beetle that pulled her to safety.

Pest chitters, "Watch it."

Lampert apologizes, pressing her back to the wall beside Pest, who, based on how tight their brows are, seems to be having an equally-shit time.

They at least have the decency to pass a cup of water from the drink table.

She takes a sip, realizes it's only vodka, swallows it anyway, and grimaces at the taste. Pest chuckles dryly, a smile beneath their mandibles.

"You're an asshole." Lampert frowns.

They mumble something in response, looking away from Lampert before walking away.

She stands there, drink losing it's coolness.

Stupid, she's so stupid.

Lampert finds her way into the bathroom to escape everything. The music is still audible in here, but it should be okay until she can compose herself.

She keeps throwing herself head first into parties she knows she hates, surrounded by people she doesn't know, and drinking alcohol that tastes like shit. Deep breaths. Lampert takes only two before someone breaches her veil of privacy.

"Do you mind?" Lampert says too harshly.

But when Partynoob steps inside and shuts the door, Lampert wishes she could pull the words back into her mouth. They aren't friends, necessarily. Friend-of-a-friend is more applicable, each knowing the other with Kasper as the intermediate.

"O! Lampert, whut a surprise! :3" they smile, though it seems to take more effort to flex the necessary muscles.

"…Hey."

Partynoob sighs, their bad smile faltering as soon as they shut the door.

"srry, I'm tired. r u ok?"

Lampert instinctively crosses her arms, her tail flicking behind her. "I'm fine. Just thought K…Infected would be here. She's not, so," Her sentence tapers off to silence. Her tail doesn't stop.

Partynoob frowns, shrugging. "shes not answering my txts either. I miss her. :( "

Lampert can't even muster a reply, staring down at the tiles, and Partynoob's cute pink slippers.

"You seem, uhh, down?"

"mmm. yah, real tired…"

…Lampert doesn't know what to say anymore. If this bathroom had a window, she would contemplate climbing out of it while Partynoob was distracted. She looks anywhere but the host.

"mmm, lampert…u hav rlly beautiful collarbones, u kno?"

The woman in question lifts a thin brow, thrust from her thoughts.

"Uhh, thank you?" Lampert replies lamely, eyes flicking to Partynoob.

Their attire for their two-dozenth party this month is practically ribbons. A micro-bikini top with plenty of accessories decorating their arms, with a matching bottom peeking out from under some shorts, their signature hat donned, and some shutter shades obscuring their eyes. They have a small plastic bag pinched between their fingers, and a rolled dollar held like a cigarette. They pad closer to Lampert, who has spent the better half of this party thinking about how to leave because Kasper didn't show face.

"do u mind if i…?" Partynoob's sentence falls quiet, their pupils blown out like dinner plates. They bump into Lampert, legs tangled. "srry. do u mind?"

Lampert tries to move out of the way. Maybe they need the sink she's been moping around, but Partynoob stops her. They set their things down. Except for the bag.

"nono, no, wait pls." Partynoob says, "can i borrow ur collarbone for a sec? just 1 sec. please? i need it."

The other's face contorts, confusion wrinkles her brow. Partynoob can hardly stand anymore. An east-coast hip-hop track plays from the other room, and Lampert can feel the bass rumbling up from her feet. Lampert gets a closer look at the bag Partynoob is toting around: smaller than a sandwich baggie. Filled with a fine white powder.

"You still do cocaine?" Lampert prods. "I thought you were quitting."

Partynoob's expression falls. The track changes in the next room, cheers erupt. They rub their face and Lampert notices the white powder around their nose. There's dried blood mixed in.

Their fingers deftly slide across Lampert's metal collarbone. Entirely artificial, as there are no organs to protect nor musculature to support. She shivers nonetheless.

"F-Fine." Lampert huffs, a flush creeping up her face. "Do whatever it is that you need to do. Then… I'm gonna go."

"dats ok. im glad u came." They hum, a weak smile gracing their features as they dump a thin line of coke into the divot of Lampert's collarbone.

A shudder wracks her entire frame. She tries to suppress it. Tries to stay still. Partynoob takes an agonizing amount of time spreading the powder into a perfect line like water in a moat. They ditch their credit card and baggie on the table, rolling their dollar bill between their thumb and forefinger. Lampert sucks in a breath as the dollar brushes against the edge of the line, Partynoob stabilizes Lampert's face with a hand on her shade. They guide her to crane her neck, opening her shoulder for easy access.

And, god damn it, Partynoob laps their tongue across a stray trace of powder. There is a one-two punch as they snort the bulk of the powder in the first pass, then finishing the line with a second. Lampert shudders as Partynoob's grip suddenly tightens, a gleeful smile carved across their face. They wipe their nose, blood pooling on the pad of their index finger. They lick it off, then press their wet finger to the leftover dust. They suck the blood-coke mixture off their thumb.

"thank u, Lampert!!!!" They cheer, cupping her lampshade and kissing the side before allowing their fingers to slide across the underside. They skip out of the bathroom back into the fray before Lampert has a chance to say a word.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Lampert presses her fingers into the groove, panting. She grumbles to herself, her face too hot. She tightens her jaw and pushes off the sink towards the door. She needs a drink. Or a smoke. Something.

She emerges from the bathroom, the couch to her left sardine-d with guests. Smoke fills the air, both tobacco and weed. She approaches the kitchen area carefully, dodging stray empty solo cups scattered across the carpet. The music is suffocating the closer she gets to the large speaker atop the fridge. Every square inch of the countertops is covered in liquor and snacks. Lampert grabs a plate and a knife, stabbing into a large Entenmann's cake tin. She doesn't bother with a fork, using her fingers instead.

She recognizes Poob's… friend(?) leaning on the TV, chittering as someone encroaches on their space. They catch Lampert's glance and scowl, turning away.

Lampert pivots to the drink table piled high with liquor.

…

Partynoob is in Lampert’s arms at the moment. She was coaxed to dance by them, and who was Lampert if not a woman with unmatched self-control? They grabbed her hand almost as soon as she turned to leave. Lampert's head was still spinning, and the way Partynoob squeezed her hand and dragged her to the center of the room happened all too fast.

She's being handsy, she knows it. She's got Partynoob up against her, so close she can smell the sweat on the back of their neck. Though she wishes it did, the proximity doesn't disgust her. They share their drink with her, and a joint that comes her way. Partynoob ends up facing Lampert, their arms wrapped around her neck. Lips connect, Poob’s tongue slides against Lampert’s teeth, licking the backside up toward her gums. They split, still dancing. Lampert’s head is in the clouds.

"Mmm, Kas---" Lampert whines.

"whuh? what'd u say?"

"Oh. N-Nothing. Nothing."

"whutevr u say. do u want another drink?"

She nods. God, watching them glide effortlessly through the crowd to pour them both a shared drink? Lampert feels no better than a man.

After dancing together some more, the pair end up on a couch, mouths interlocked.

Between a couple more shots and nursing off of other people's drinks in between, Lampert is fucked. Fucked up. She stumbles bleary-eyed through the kitchen, vision fading a dark unfocusedness. A few stray partiers are chatting. Lampert shoulder-checks one of them pretty hard, but they don't say anything.

She ends up in more hallway. Even more hallway.

She looks back, the party near-impossible to hear. She doesn't remember grabbing her coat. It's too warm for the winter. She stumbles into door after door, pushing mostly with her body through each. As she places her hand on the next door, a strange rumbling under her palm, Lampert pushes forward.

…

"Get up."

Someone taps her side with their foot. They spit something in a foreign language, obviously irritated.

"C'mon, the party's over."

Lampert opens her eyes, meeting four deep red ones. Before she can register the bug looming over her, they bend down and pull her to her feet. They're walking now, back to the living room. They find Partynoob collapsed over the couch, a blanket haphazardly thrown over them by a third party. It's a mess, but seeing them ignites something in her. Something other than Lampert's throbbing hangover.

Pest pushes her through the elevator doors, and Partynoob lifts their head and smiles towards her with a soft "bai…" as the doors close, blood leaking from their nose. A beat of silence hangs in the air until the elevator rumbles to life.

Lampert's face is noticeably warm. There's a pink-and-yellow kandi bracelet on her wrist she doesn't remember receiving.

God damn it.

[thatphantomtroupelady]

HxH Ringtone HCs 1

even tho I seriously need to study rn- eh. also weird title but okay

LOOK AT THIS MAN!! LOOK AT HIM AND THEN LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND TELL ME THAT HE DOESN'T HAVE THE WEIRDEST FUNKIEST RINGTONE EVER (you can't)

It could literally be anything

From the theme song of an old bungee gum/texture surprise commercial

To just a screeching fire alarm

Like he just enjoys catching people off guard and it's one more way to do it so why not~

Poor guy suffers from IRS (indecisive ringtone syndrome) 😔😔

Pakunoda has tried to fix it in the past by just having him keep the default ringtone

But then he gets soo bored of it :((

He needs his ringtone to be a nice classical piece

But he also CAN'T decide which classical piece it should be

So he just ends up shuffling through a library of like at least a hundred of them

Per month

He can and WILL yell at you for ending the call too early

Even though he just... was not picking up

Yes. He's the type of guy to like his ringtone so much that he straight up does not pick up his phone at times

And even if he does pick up he will complain about his favorite ringtone ending and yes it is your fault

Why? Because he can.

It's a problem™

It's probably just one of the default ringtones though

He's not as non-basic as he likes to boast 😔😔

He'll still say oh HEY IT'S DOESN'T COUNT AS BASIC BECAUSE IT IS SO UNDERRATED

yes it does, Phinks.

Haha

Bold of you to assume he has a ringtone

He keeps his phone on silent 24/7 because otherwise it may turn out to be a liability when he's sneaking/shadowing around

Practical but... frankly boring

Even if he ever un-silents his phone, it's just the default ringtone

Why? "Because I have better things to do"

Fair enough

Wait wdym you can change the ringtone???

What's a ringtone???

I don't even have a phone???

No??? That phone is not mine??? I've literally never seen it before????

What's a phone???

Ok boomer

Fr tho queen behaviour

A ringtone?? Huh?? You're so basic that your phone rings when someone calls you???

Sorry but he's just built different

His phone releases a special kind of aura that only he can detect that tells him that someone is calling him

The stronger the aura the more urgent the call is

Very 🤓👆 coded

but also can't say I wouldn't want one too

[lifebuoyjournals]

Hi guys! I’ve written a piece of work, it would mean so much to me if you could check it out! It’s inspired by the above prompt on Tumblr on the origin of mermaids, but I’ve only seen screenshots of it and can’t tag the original post! Please let me know what you think and how I can improve!

Read Part 1 of 2 here.

[climeade]

So I’ve been doing some Sonadow writing yeah? And I honestly love writing starters, I love building the environment. So heres a bit of something thats inspired by the slums au by soina(?) It’s not much but uh. just encase anyone was interested.

Early Winter.

Nighttime was calm. The cold, crisp air enveloping Metropolis in a melancholy quiet. Well, quiet compared to more populated hours. The whirring of cars going by was always distant, a few blocks off. And the metallic sound of his shoes clicking and scraping over the sidewalk seemed to be the loudest thing on the block. Most people were in doors long before the sun went down. Aside from the severe temperature drop it just wasn’t safe.  Crime had been running rampid for quite some time. While the Doctor retained a choke hold on the city, it was it’s inner most areas that were neglected by what could very easily be compared to robocops. Death went on without so much as a single badnik coming into the area to investigate. And even if they did, there were even fewer civilians who were willing to cooperate. Maybe that was how the Doctor liked it, keeping them all under his meaty thumb with fear. As if the state of the economy wasn’t enough… Work was scarce, even for an ageless, hybrid. After G.U.N. was dissolved, surrendering to the Eggman forces, much of the crew was discarded. He had only been spared on a whim as a memento of the Eggman lineage the Doctor just couldn’t bring himself to destroy him. And so he ran. Blending into the common and finding comfort in it. But whatever peace they found it in was only a veil they put over their own eyes. Shadow surely found no rest in scraping by, and if he knew anything about his flatmate then neither did he. Many of their comrades had been scattered, lost in action and after years without contact it was logical to assume they were dead.

It bothered Shadow, scrapped over him more then he would ever admit. But with his shoes clicking on the steps leading up to a complex. The weight of the day was settling there. The weight of how disproportionate the work he had dont today was to the pay he was returning with. Physically he could certainly take more, he hardly slept and could get along through a month with only a handful of resting hours under his belt. But it was knowing that this work was not leading them anywhere. That for months they had been behind on the exorbitant amount of bills, fees and taxes implemented on citizens. A few upper class areas still existed in the city but they're were generally reserved to humans. In fact Mobians were barely a step above full fledged segregation. And as Shadow was employed by the disbanded government and Sonic having essentially no kind of financial ability. Well, it had been a rough year. Today had been hardly any different from the rest of the month. Shadow left the apartment before day break to go to a local source. One who handed out jobs under the table. Usually one time tasks that specialized in his line of talents. Intimidation, checking gang posts and doing stake outs that sometimes kept him away for a few days. He didn’t ask what his companion did, so long as there was some coin at the end of the month he couldn’t be bothered. Even with their history, the hybrid seemed more high strung than usual.  Especially in light of his flatmates new interests. Containment had probably been the hardest on Sonic, without the freedom to be nomadic he had delved into more convenient past times. Expensive ones that often left him incapacitated, a liability. Shadow rarely voiced his opinion on such things but he clearly didn’t approve. He made his gut twist to see the hedgehog act so uncharacteristically. No doubt brought on by a tab or a fine powder or what ever it was that was that he continued to find lying around their home. His expression twitched in irritation and he shook his head, untucking a key from the cuff on his glove. Willing away the thought as he pressed it into the lock and feeling it grind over the jagged mechanisms of the keyhole. A small unconvinced voice telling him to lighten up. At least he was home.

[home-stuck-universe-blog]

The heart of a snake Although it's not very great It will still break @irl--lawliet

[whumping-in-the-dark]

~Fun Things To do With Your Whumpee~

CW: dehumanization, general cw for torture, manipulation, drugging, etc etc

So, just got a new whumpee? Or maybe you're looking for ways to engage with an old one? Either way, some of these may prove useful to you :)

Don't do any of these irl. I'm watching you >:(

If you consider yourself a 'nice' intimate whumper~

1. Good ol' freezing the shit out of your darling whumpee so that they cling onto you for some warmth :)

2. No? How about sensory deprivation? If you use it the right way they'll be putty in your arms in no time :)

3. Some good isolation works wonders too! Pair that with starvation, thirst, heat/cold, etc and you've got yourself a treat :)

4. Maybe your whumpee is just oh so stubborn :( but that's nothing a nice little drug dosage (or about nine) can't fix :)

5. Finally, if nothing else works :( just beat them up and then treat their wounds. Show them that YOU are the only source of comfort in their silly little life! It's a little more time consuming than others but frankly more long-lasting too :)

6. Here's a bonus round- paralysis! tie them up and watch a movie together! gags gags gags!! for all the back talking you'd hate for them to do! tattoo your name onto them! brand your initials onto them! and soo much more!!

OR

If you consider yourself a more stoic whumper~

1. Either keep them on a strict schedule or no schedule at all, whichever is more convenient for you :)

2. Force them to do your house chores and then punish them for not doing them properly (yay!) :)

3. Force them to pick their own punishments or maybe pick out how many of X they will have to endure! If they go too easy on themselves just punish them more :)

4. Force them to clean up all of the blood and gore once you're done torturing them. After all they are the ones who made that mess in the first place :)

5. Force them to address you respectfully, thank you after every torture session, give verbal answers each time, etc :)

6. Here's another bonus round- hose them down instead of giving them a shower! keep the naked or half-naked all times! NEVER use their name! collars collars collars!! Bonus points if they are shock collars with 'slave' tags! And soo much more!!

OR

If you consider yourself to be a pure let's torture the shit out of this whumpee kinda whumper... well~

HEY

WAIT

:0

MAJOR

torture and gore tw for this one~

it's the last one so skip it if you'd like~

1. Make sure they KNOW the consequences of their actions- do you pour hot glass/wax/etc into their ear for not listening to you? do you burn their tongue for talking back? or sew their eyes shut for glaring at you? :)

2. Track every torture session you put them through to find ways to slowly drag it out and increase their tolerance. After all, do they really deserve to faint when you're having so much fun with them? :)

3. Force feed them at all times or feed them icky liquids or pastes or maybe cut open their stomach and directly force food in through a tube? :)

4. Rub salt into their wounds! Pour alcohol over their wounds! Press into every little welt and twist your fingers into those cuts! :)

5. What? Still bored? Just pierce any body part of theirs you'd like and hook them up to the ceiling with that! do they get to stand on their toes? You choose that :)

6. A bonus round for y'all too ofc- manhandle them around by their hair! film their torture sessions to show them off to them later! pictures pictures pictures!! cages cages cages!! Torture their loved ones in front of them! Or force them to torture their loved ones! And soo much more!!

Feel free to suggest any additions :)

[whumping-in-the-dark]

"It's supposed to hurt-- with the way you have been behaving."