#digging deeper meme

[lifeisstrange-incorrectquotes]

(In the Dark Room)

Jefferson: It's a shame, really. You had such potential, Max. You could've reached my level one day.

Max: *in a deadpan voice* Unfortunately, to be on your level I'd need a boat trip to the Mariana Trench and a pair of cinderblock shoes.

[gayvampyr]

one of the funniest (most annoying) responses to my posts about my own personal experiences is “um this is [x] erasure” or “op this needs more nuance”. ??? no it doesn’t, it’s literally just a vent post about my own feelings and experiences ? lol

[ahamkara-apologist]

Alright, can’t reblog without sending a few, so for that ask game I want to know about your bitchless Warlock, Ash!! 3, 7, 9, 10. Sorry Ash I know you have no bitches but just imagine you do for a moment </3

FINALLY...SOMEONE ASKS ABOUT MY WONDERFUL BITCHASS GIRL ASHE. I love her so so much, she's such an asshole and a loser but I haven't really done as much with her as I'd like to (mostly bc Marcie and Aeris are currently being used in DnDestiny, and also bc she's problematic and messy as hell and a bit more personal in some aspects so I keep her close to my chest).

As for Ashe, she's currently bitchless, but she's had a lot of sex in the past. It's trying to get bitches now that she's just a straight-up cringefail wellock for hire in the Last City that's the problem, lmao

3. Do you have headcanons of the intimate or sexual nature? For example, dick size, pubic style. Intimate piercings or jewelry, etc.

-Ashe goes for the good 'ol classic unshaven jungle brush pussy and nothing else. This is mostly because she's usually too busy trying to format new unethical super designs or too drugged/drunk out of her mind to shave it, but even if she had the option, she'd scoff at going through the trouble of shaving to appease someone else. Why'd she even bother fucking them if they can't stand a little hair? She likes it on her girls so she likes it on herself, and fuck you if you think otherwise. General genital shape wise, she has thin lips with droopy inner labia and a clit that kind of pokes out a bit more than most, though it's obv. not on the same level as anyone with elevated testosterone levels

She does have a clitoral hood piercing, because it helps to make her clit stand out more, but she doesn't always remember to keep it in. Especially once she started working with Spider and fucking more Eliskni for glimmer, as their claws kept getting caught on it. Not fun.

7. Would your guardian use light to enhance any encounters?

-Oh yeah. Back in the Dark Ages, she used to sleep around with warlords so that she could sneak into their libraries and steal from their armories, so she got quite good at all the fun little ways that Lightbearers would use their gifts to enhance their time in the bedroom. She's a solar warlock, so for her she usually focuses on heat/soothing/healing and relaxation to make her partner as pliant and as forgiving as possible, but she's just as happy to snap to something more painful in a heartbeat. The one thing she doesn't like is arc, but that's just a personal sensation thing, and involves her being on the receiving end of it vs outright using it

9. Would your guardian pursue a relationship sexual or otherwise with one of the many aliens?

-Considering the fact that the one nsft fic wip I have with her featured in it as a main character is a mock-scientific article that she wrote about mating encounters and sexual compatibility with various Eliksni that she paid to participate in her 'study,' I'd say yeah. She's not an alienfucker like Marcie or Aeris (Aeris bc its interesting and easier with aliens than humans, Marcie bc she's a hopeless romantic who has fallen for Eramis, Caiatl, and then Failsafe one after the other), but she won't ever say no to some good dick. ESPECIALLY because it's so hard to get from these uptight respectable city guardians.

(That study included Taniks btw. She's much more durable than she looks- but she also needed to pop a well during that encounter, lmfao)

10. Group encounters?

-Abso-fucking-lutely. I'm sure she's been in an orgy at least once; the problem now is that again, she's essentially been bitchless since Arrivals, when the anxiety of the encroaching threat of the Witness turned her alcohol/drug usage from something occasional to increase her touch with the Light to an actual problem to cope with her terror of the end of the universe. Now she spends most of her time either knocked out or complaining about how much fun she used to have, so the orgies of the past are now solidly off the table

[remyfire]

BJ/Trapper for the ship asks

Do I Ship It?

Yes, I Ship It!!

What made you ship it? —If there is one thing I am going to do as a polyamorous multishipper, it is find the two characters who had the most central relationship with a protagonist on screen and make them kiss. They are incredibly compelling to me. Even if you remove this concept of the mythical "Trapper Complex," they'd compel me. Typically I ship them in the midst of a wider polycule, but even alone, they bring so much to the table.

What are your favorite things about the ship? —I love that they're both girldads, and that Trap has the extra years of experience there to offer advice and support to boot. Similarly, I love that Trapper is a far more experienced surgeon and BJ is just starting to dip his toes into the water outside of residency—I'm often inclined to write Trap as being around 33 or so in 1950, when BJ would be around 26 or 27, so that is a significant level of time that Trapper's had on the ground as opposed to BJ, who has his finger on the pulse of the newest techniques and advances and thus also has something to bring to the table. They're both scheming scamps. But they also rub up awkwardly against each other—their interpretation of what is appropriate to do for the greater good, the danger posed by how both of them love to bury their big angry emotions, their interpretations of what is permissible to take part in when you're in a committed relationship (I doubt BJ would care if Trap is fucking around behind Louise's back, but I think he would care very much if he and Trap were an item and didn't have a preestablished agreement, whereas this is just something Trapper is inclined to do by his own admission). God, I love all of it. I'm gnawing on them.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? —Is it unpopular to say that I think if BJ and Trapper were at the 4077th at the same time, they'd be thick as thieves? I don't know if it is. I feel like I see contrary suggestions to that all the time, but I also think I've seen plenty who agree with me. I think the nature of their wariness with each other (Trapper can have a little BJ Complex as a treat) is purely their sense of either their lack of self-confidence/if they're enough of a man/lover or their awareness of exactly how massive a bridge they set fire to upon their departure. If those things do not come into play by having them be in the same space from BJ's first day there, then there's a lot less for them to bite at each other about.

[hirazuki]

Lmao it's a given for me that I'll find out from the Destiel meme. My existence is so hermit-like, that I legit get 100% of my news from the Destiel meme.

Part of me wants to keep the news on to get election results.

But a bigger part of me wants to get the results via the Destiel meme.

[nonsupe]

god save me this was the worst part.

[tranxendance]

One of the best things about tumblr was waking up to a post that’s like ‘This town’s full of monsters! How can you sit there eatin’ a burger with no honey mustard’ and thinking oho Silent Hill reference and honey mustard is in fact good on a burger

Then ten posts later seeing patient zero that this post was based on.

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC Phantom Punk: We are the Outlaws

Back on my punk Danny AU

So punk is pretty anti-authoritarian, loud, fast, and contains a lot of anger, anger at how the world is. It can also be very compassionate to the downtrodden an those the system fails

You know who else has a lot of anger and compassion?

Jason Todd

Jason Todd, the second Robin, the Red Hood. The man was born to be punk.

Danny just works as a punk. His villains range from the government to a Billionaire to a ghost cop. It makes more sense than not for his experiences to have turned him in that direction, and let's face it one Sam Mason would have helped, even if punk and goth are different

So we have one dead punk boy living in a shitty apartment in Gotham, and we have another dead punk boy moving into a shitty apartment in Gotham

They're neighbors(I'd say roommates for the meme but Jay needs the added privacy)

So now we have two punks with messed up sleep schedules living next door to each other. They clearly vibe, they hang out, go to each other's apartments and Jason practically force feeds Danny a healthy meal that has enough preservatives in it to give Ra's a run for his money

Then Jason got careless

Jason, after accidentally mentioning the outlaws multiple times during a phone call, now has to deal with the fact that Danny thinks it's the band he's in. It's fine, all he has to do is play it cool, roll with it and it'll be no big deal

being unable to shut his mouth, he actually digs himself deeper. Now, Danny doesn't just want to see them play, he wants to join, and Jason has made the mistake of saying he needs to ask the band first, only to call Roy who is a little shit and goes "Yeah he can join our band."

Cut to Jason, Starfire, and a sheepish Roy scrambling to actually be a punk band as they get sucked further and further into committing to the bit

or

Fake Band au, like a fake dating au but with more people and instruments and probably ends in polyamory

[hxney-lemcn]

How Was Your Day? — Cater Diamond x gn! reader

summery: you help Cater open up to you a bit more.

tw: hurt/comfort.

wc: 1.1k

Master List

It was so silly. You felt like you were living the most cliche scenario in the world. You had a crush on your best friend. Could you really be blamed? Not only was Cater drop dead gorgeous, but he always made you feel included and seen. There was just one thing that itched at you. You wished he would open up to you a bit more. No matter what, there felt like a barrier between you both, something that kept you from getting any closer to seeing the full painting that was Cater Diamond. You could only really see the surface, the pretty colors and beautiful framing, hiding the gritty reality that laid beneath.

You wanted to dig deeper, to truly dissect the meaning behind Cater. He was your friend, and you felt foolish that you fell for the glitz and the glamor instead of his true self. Or that’s how you felt at least. You had managed to catch glimpses of his softer moments, moments where you were feeling down. Where he’d dim down his outgoing personality and try to make you laugh with either memes he found or acting silly. And if that didn’t work? He’d listen to your complaints, only giving advice if you ask.

It was only a glimpse, though, as those moments seemed far and few in between. Putting on his cheery smile and flash of the camera. Maybe you were being selfish, but it almost hurt, knowing that Cater didn’t seem to trust you enough to show you all of himself when he’s seen you at your worst. That he can see you cry and complain, but thinks you’d mind if he did the same. You only wanted to be there for him like he was for you, to show him that he wasn’t a problem, even if he wasn’t super bubbly or outgoing. 

It seemed like you were going to get what you wished sooner than you expected. 

You hadn’t meant to stumble upon him in such a vulnerable moment. You just wanted to spend some time with your bestie/crush, knocking on his door before entering. You paused midstep, noticing a lump under the blankets on Cater’s bed, ginger hair barely peeking out. 

“Cater?” You called out cautiously, clicking the door closed behind you. He only shuffled further into his cocoon, not acknowledging your presence. Gosh, as much as you wanted him to open up, you were unsure of how to proceed, but one thing was for sure. You were not just going to let him stew alone. 

So as gracefully as you could (quite awkwardly in all honesty), you took a seat next to where he laid, hand hesitantly reaching out to pat his form. No words were said as you stroked Cater’s back, trying to think of what to say or ask.

”Do you want to talk about it?” You settled on asking.

”I’m sorry,” Cater mumbled, you could barely hear it through the thick fabric that covered him. 

“What are you sorry for?” You asked softly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

It was silent for a few seconds before Cater mumbled brokenly, “I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

You felt your heart break, a heavy pit filling your stomach. Cater shouldn’t hold his feelings in like this, especially when he has people willing to lend a shoulder…like you. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” You replied without hesitation. “I care about you, Cater. If you’re ever feeling down you can always come to me, I’ll always be here for you.”

Cater was hesitant to peek his head out of the safety of his blankets, but the sweetness of your words had his chest aching, a bittersweet feeling spreading through him. On one hand, you were saying things he had longed to hear for so long, but on the other it felt completely wrong for you to see him as anything else but happy and cheerful. 

His emerald eyes peaked at you, the lower half of his face still covered, red locks of hair falling in his face, “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You are not a burden,” You scolded gently. “Am I a burden when I’m not feeling good?”

”Of course not,” Cater frowned from beneath the blanket. 

“So what makes you the exception?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cater opened his mouth, reflexively ready to insult himself…but he couldn’t actually think of a proper rebuttal. You had actually managed to stump him. He looked so disheartened and hopeful at the same time.

“Even if I don’t actually like all the things I say I do? Even though I lie to you all about who I am?” 

“Even then,” You agreed, scrounging any confidence you had left in you, you raised a shaky hand to run it through his hair. It seemed like that was the right thing to do as Cater’s eyes shut in a look of bliss, unconsciously leaning his head into your hand. 

“Y’know you don’t have to lie about all that stuff, right?” You asked softly, scratching his scalp gently. “Who cares if you like spicy over sweet, it won’t change how much I love you.”

“Thank you,” Cater murmured with a content sigh, nuzzling his head into your thigh, soaking in your affection. 

“Of course,” You murmured back, admiring the way his hair framed his face so prettily…only to be surprised when his perfectly manicured hand reached out from beneath the blankets and wrapped around your torso, dragging you to lay down beside him. You felt your face flush from being so close, his faint freckles more visible from this distance. 

“I…” Cater spoke out, tongue thick with emotion. Those three words you said so easily felt like a ton of bricks that he just couldn’t cough up, but he wanted to oh so desperately at that moment. You watched on in concern as Cater’s face contorted into what looked semi-painful, like he was struggling with a thought.

”I love you too,” Cater managed to push out, eyeing you with anxiety and vulnerability. Your eyes widened, before it clicked that you had said those words mere minutes ago, you hadn’t even realized those words slipped past your lips, but you had meant them wholeheartedly. 

You relaxed in his hold, resting your head on his shoulder, “Hmmm, well too bad I love you more.” 

Cater let out a short giggle, nuzzling into your hair, the both of you drowning in butterflies. It was a rainy moment turned sunny, the two of you basking in the glow of the other's love. Sure, the problem wasn’t solved and Cater would still have to work on opening up to you, but it was a start, and you’d be by his side supporting him through all his ups and downs.

[sdmsims]

being annoying and thinking out loud here..

i've been at this for 6 years (or at least, that's how long this blog has been around for) and the way the general culture around modding has shifted is kinda. sad

like i sound like a broken record and many others have the same sentiment, but modding discoveries and advancements from today would've made people in 2018 shit their pants... and instead of it being harnessed for unbridled creativity, it just... sits.

modding has become a job now for people. a community that was built by hobbyists has turned overwhelmingly capitalistic, especially with the rise of SL sellers jumping to ts4 to make a quick buck with no real passion for the game or its community.

when modding becomes a paycheck, it also becomes stagnant. people are afraid to take risks and start things they may never finish and do things out of the ordinary, because that doesn't sell well.

and the most frustrating things is... people keep enabling this. yes, there's more and more people vocally upset about the increasing 'de-hobbyfication' of modding, but the community around the sims is huge, and considering how we see more and more SL brands flocking to get their fill... there's definitely a non-zero number of people who are allowing this to continue with their wallets

the sims 4, for all its flaws, is the most malleable sims game in my opinion. if you have a desire to learn and a goal, you can mold the game into whatever the hell you want - and that's amazing. it's the type of game with the type of freedom to expand on and change whatever that i dreamed about since i was a kid playing mysims. it can be just a dollhouse, a dressup game, a shitpost simulator... but it can also be whatever you want if you have an idea, some time, and patience.

so... despite it all, i encourage everyone to just create. make stupid meme tshirt recolors for yourself and your friend's inside jokes, convert your anime boyfriend's model parts just so your simself can make out with him, dig deeper and deeper into the paths that hobbyists of the past have forged to create something new and weird that caters to nobody but yourself

create what you want to see and what makes you happy, no matter how 'small' it is

[nurglegrognard]

Ok, lets talk crazy 40k weapons; leave your basic 1960's era gyrojet firing boltgun in the bin where it belongs. Trash tier firearm that shoots explosive bullets; PFFFT! We have that tech NOW.

If you want to get serious about crazy 40k tech, you gotta dig deeper...

Starting out not too deep; the humble plasma gun - is not so humble at all! This thing literally fires minature suns!

A weaponised microwave oven; it literally cooks the target from the inside out within a split second.

Oh yeah, a laser sniper rifle! Oh wait, what? The laser is just to penetrate the target's armour? Then the gun shoots a frozen needle of toxins through that hole? Dafuq!

Yeah yeah, Eldar weapons are nerf disc launchers, chuckle guffaw ha ha. That meme is lame; especially considering a Shuriken weapon actually fires razor blades. But they also fire "hypodermic stars" filled with chemicals that turn living tissue into volatile explosives - no wonder Harlequin Death Jesters are not much fun at all to be around.

Tyranid guns; yeah, they could have said "they all shoot acid" and called it a day. That wouldn't be 40k though, would it. Imagine getting shot by this thing and you're hit in the face with a Cave Weta the size of your hand that starts chewing a hole in you.

More devilry from the Eldar; this time we have helmet guns that spray metallic needles at you; then a split second later, it shoots a laser through the needles, flash-igniting those needles into plasma! Striking Scorpions out here trying to barbecue your head.

And now for arguably the most batshit insane thing ever created by mankind in the 40k universe. The Vortex Grenade; it's heavy and you have to throw it by hand. Not only that but when it explodes it creates a hole in reality and anything the hole touches goes to the Warp... i.e. literally to hell.

Tyranids back at it with more fleshy firearms; this one actually does fire acid... of a sort. Imagine getting hit in the chest by a lobster tail with cream sauce... that splats all over you and your friends and dissolves steel.

All these nightmare guns and grenades, you're going to need protection. How about a force field? But what kind? 40k has the typical bubble of energy that repels projectiles (it's called a Power Field but it's over the page), but it's big, and heavy and besides, why bother with that when you can carry around a miniature warp drive that teleports you out of harms way?

And now we come to the most extra of all extra 40k Wargear. The humble Harlequin's Kiss... ... ... yeah nah, you can stick your Chainsword where the sun don't shine; losing a limb or a head aint as scary as being stabbed and then having your insides instantly minced. You'd have just enough time to vomit up the Bolognese sauce that was your heart, lungs, intestines and liver before you expire, messily all over the floor. All while the murder-clown who attacked you laughed in your face.

[eyneyke]

The internet does it's thing

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 4 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist

Sam's unexpected appearance on Felix's livestream sparks an internet frenzy

Once Sam had appeared on Felix’s livestream, the internet hadn’t stopped buzzing about him. Sure, the initial hype had quieted down a bit, but Twitter remained relentless, trying to figure out more about this mysterious, handsome brother of PewDiePie.

"Who is Sam?!" one user tweeted, accompanied by screenshots from the livestream.

"Why did Felix never tell us he had a hot brother??? 😭" another added, sparking a thread of speculation.

It wasn’t long before a random user pieced together a potential clue that sent the fandom into a frenzy. One F1 fan stumbled across a photo from a recent Red Bull Racing victory celebration, featuring Max Verstappen and the team in high spirits after another win.

The user posted: "Wait… is that Sam???" alongside a zoomed-in image of a man with red hair in an overgrown mullet, standing amongst the Red Bull engineers. He was casually laughing with a few teammates, wearing a Red Bull shirt with sleeves pushed up, showing off his slightly muscular arms.

Within minutes, the tweet exploded.

Twitterer29: "OMG THAT IS SAM!"

Twitterer30:"He’s working with Red Bull?? NO WAY."

Twitterer31: "FELIX’S BROTHER IS A RED BULL ENGINEER??? THIS IS THE CROSSOVER I DIDN’T KNOW I NEEDED."

Twitter fans were relentless, digging deeper. It wasn’t long before the conversation spilled over to Reddit, where dedicated threads were made, dissecting every piece of new information about Sam. F1 fans and PewDiePie’s community suddenly merged in the most unexpected crossover.

One of the top posts on the F1 subreddit read: “Sam Kjellberg – PewDiePie's Brother and Max Verstappen's Engineer? What We Know So Far”. The thread was full of photos fans had found of Sam working on Max's car. Some were candid shots of him in the Red Bull garage, focused as he worked on the car’s intricate parts, others were from race weekends, him with a headset on, talking to the team.

Reddit went into full detective mode:

"Confirmed: Sam’s a mechanical engineer for Red Bull Racing!" one user posted, linking to various articles about the Red Bull team that mentioned a "Sam" in passing, though never linking him to Felix until now.

"He’s one of the main engineers for Max's car," another user wrote, quoting an F1 article about Verstappen’s engineering team. “This guy isn’t just some random – he’s one of the brains behind Max’s success.”

The thirst was real and relentless:

Random_Comment32: "Not only is Sam Kjellberg hot, but he also helps make Max’s car go vroom-vroom super fast?? This man has everything."

Random_Comment34: "Okay but Sam with a mullet and muscles and he works in F1? I’m literally in love."

As more people scoured the internet for photos of Red Bull’s team members, it wasn’t long before they found more shots of Sam in action. In one, he was leaning over Max’s car during practice, his shirt stretching slightly against his biceps. In another, he was caught mid-laugh with other engineers during a downtime moment in the garage. Each new photo sparked a flood of comments:

Random_Comment35: "This man can fix cars, computers, and probably my heart 😍."

Random_Comment36: "PewDiePie was hiding his hot, talented brother this whole time."

The F1 fandom started embracing Sam as part of their world, with a mix of awe at his technical skills and lighthearted thirst. Some of the memes started pouring in:

Random_Comment37: "Max Verstappen’s true secret weapon: Sam Kjellberg’s arms."

Random_Comment38: "F1 is just a side gig for Sam, his real talent is breaking the internet with his looks."

Even Max fans were getting in on the action, half-joking that Sam should be credited for the driver’s victories:

Random_Comment39: "Max wins because Sam fixes his car and probably intimidates the competition with those muscles."

Meanwhile, back on Twitter, someone summarised the entire internet’s reaction perfectly: "This is the weirdest timeline. Felix Kjellberg’s brother is both an engineer for the world’s biggest F1 team and the internet’s new crush."

As more people jumped into the investigation, the photos kept coming, with each new image of Sam in the Red Bull garage only adding to the legend. What started as a casual appearance in Felix’s livestream had spiralled into a full-blown internet obsession.

The thirst was real, and as one Redditor aptly put it: "Sam might just be the only person who could unite PewDiePie fans and F1 fans in one massive, thirsty fandom."

[theartistisme43]

Chapter Two: The Smell of Copper and Disinfectant

HOSPITAL, BLOOD, PANIC ATTACK, AND GUN MENTION TW:

There was a dense ringing in SMG4’s ears as he floated in a void of numbness, he could hear a distant beep every now and then, and muffled, discombobulated talking…

4 didn’t know where he was, or what was happening… Every time he tried to figure it out, something pulled him into a deeper rest, but he could feel himself getting closer to a light every time he attempted to gather his thoughts.

All he remembered was creating tomato soop, and then… Nothing.

4 tried to get out of whatever state he was in, but he felt trapped and unable to move, as if he was being weighed down by something, almost like…

Sleep paralysis?…

Was he asleep?

The more he thought of it, the more he could hear, the more he could feel, the more he could think.

Just like a knife, memory cut into him.

“I’m sorry, I have to do this…”

BANG!

With a gasp, SMG4 shot up in bed, making Mario almost fall back with a gasp of his own.

4’s eyes refocused as his mind began to process where he was, as they tiredly scanned the area around him.

All of his friends were here, scattered around in his hospital room.

Just as 4 intended to speak, a sharp, horrible pain made him hiss in reaction. He looked down, seeing a gauze pad that was secured by tight bandages wrapped around his chest and back to hold it in place. 4 could feel how tender his skin was under the medical wraps.

“…wh…” He found his voice as he winced hard.

A gloved hand took his, as Mario looked at him with love in his eyes… And an air of sorrow to them too.

“Miei cari Quattro... ero così preoccupata!” The red plumber embraced him, avoiding his wound.

SMG4 enjoyed the hug for a moment, but wondered what all the fuss was about, he couldn’t remember what happened for some reason… Did he have a kitchen accident or something?

“SMG4!” Meggy exclaimed, coming to hug him too. “You’re awake!”

4 attempted to use his right arm to pat her back, but it hurt far too much for him to move it, so he used his left to do it instead.

“What happened?” 4’s question made almost everyone in the room uncomfortable, as a few of his friends avoided looking at him.

Meggy sighed, willing herself to say… Something bad from what 4 could gather from her face.

“SMG4… Do you… Not remember?” She asked softly.

“No, please tell me..” 4 said. “I can handle it, whatever it is..”

“SMG4.” Meggy began, brows furrowing. “SMG3 shot you…”

4 paled, the ringing in his ears returned as his heart began pounding.

Like a train, feelings of grief, betrayal, and heartbreak came hurtling into him.

Now he could remember.

SMG3’s eyes were cold and empty, the way his face looked was like something straight out of a horror movie.

SMG4 tried to brush it off by mentioning his newest meme, but 3 didn’t care, merely raising his gun with the intention of killing 4.

And he shot him.

Watching him bleed out as he lost consciousness…

SMG4 was hyperventilating as he clutched himself, suffering through a panic attack as the previous day’s events became clear.

The very person he had come to trust, come to love, stabbed him in the back. And why? Because he got bored of being good? Because being evil was much easier for him?

“SMG4, it’s going to be okay…” Meggy tried to vocally help him through his attack, but all of the emotions he felt were relentless.

SMG4’s brain couldn’t register anything as a monsoon of thoughts and questions rendered all of his senses useless.

His fingers were practically digging into his skin as his chest heaved, eyes staring into nothing.

All 4 could see in his mind was SMG3’s terrifying expression as he watched him lay there helpless, his own blood pooling around him.

But suddenly… He was encased in warmth, a safe feeling he had felt many times.

Mario held SMG4 close, letting him clutch at his shirt as to not damage himself anymore, like the other times he helped him through past panic attacks.

The meme guardian rode the aftermath of his attack, coming back to reality with heavy yet softer breaths.

“There we are…” Mario muttered. “I got you.”

4 had pushed his body too hard, his ribs hurt slightly from his rapid sharp breaths, and this didn’t help with his still tender injury.

Mario saw something in 4’s eyes fade.. He didn’t know if it was exhaustion, or… Hope leaving him.

As 4 returned to sleep, Mario still held his hand, his heart breaking as he watched someone who was so full of life feel so defeated…

“Gli farò pagare la pena per averti ferito, Quattro, te lo prometto. Non avrò pace finché non lo troveranno..”

Mario had tried to whisper only loud enough for 4 to hear, but his quiet promise was understood by his green brother.

Luigi looked on in concern, as he watched his twin brother begin a tread down a darker path... Grief considered, he wanted 3 to pay for this too, but this just wasn't right... This wasn't Mario.

"Come on guys." Meggy whispered. "Let's let SMG4 rest."

Their friend group had quietly, one by one, left the room, but Luigi stayed put. He joined his brother's side, placing a kind and comforting hand onto Mario's own.

Hurt, angry, tired eyes glanced down, and then up to Luigi's face.

Luigi looked back with a soft and concerned look in his, as Mario silently brought his hand down to his side, away from Luigi's hand.

It would be a fight to get Mario back, but Luigi was willing to do whatever it took to save his brother from his own rage.

"Sono qui anche per te, Mario. Non dimenticarlo mai..."

[onabat11e]

Hey! I know you’re not taking requests at the moment…but was just wondering if you’d ever write a fic (even if just a little blurb) about onas reaction to lucy in THAT outfit yesterday because god im obsessed!

ona would just send lucy this meme:

jokes aside, i wrote something short for this (thank you for the req)

rating: E for explicit (18+)

word count: 988 (tell me why i thought it would only be like 500)

Lucy: 1 attachment - time for the awards, miss u baby

Lucy sent a selfie of her in the mirror, showing off her outfit for The Best FIFA Football Awards. The blonde waves framed her face perfectly, showing off her small smirk and her chiselled jawline. Lucy slipped her phone away, needing to leave the dressing room to get ready to walk the green carpet. 

Ona sat up in bed after hearing her phone vibrate. She looked over to see a new message from Lucy. She felt her abdomen tighten immediately at the stunning selfie she had been sent. She typed a reply before opening the photograph to get a better look.

Ona: do you even know what you do to me Luciaaaaa 😭

Ona zoomed into the photo, wanting to take in every detail of Lucy in that outfit. The vest perfectly displayed Lucy’s muscular arms and strong shoulders. 

Her eyes wandered down Lucy’s arm, falling on the hand wrapped around her phone. Ona’s mind definitely did not start to imagine those fingers digging into her thighs as Lucy ate her out. And she definitely did not fantasise about the way those fingers would pump into her; the way her pussy would clench and cum around them, begging for more. 

She could picture the exact way Lucy’s bicep would flex as she pumped two fingers into her heat. The mental images made Ona’s stomach twist, a throbbing pleasure starting to arise between her legs. She almost felt embarrassed at how quickly she got turned on from the photo alone. She swiped off to send more messages for Lucy. 

Ona: that outfit is doing things to me

Ona: i need u so bad right now. so wet for you

Ona’s hand trailed down her torso, pulling her oversized t-shirt up over her midriff. Her hand dipped under her sweatpants, rubbing over the fabric of her panties. She inhaled sharply at the contact on her throbbing clit, feeling her body beg for more pressure. 

She quickly kicked off her sweatpants, letting them fall off the side of the bed. Ona raised her phone, the camera app open, angling it so her now exposed abs and underwear were in frame. She slipped her hand under her waistband before pressing the capture button. 

Ona: 1 attachment - wish u were here 

Ona dropped her phone before she dipped a finger into herself. Breathing deeply at the sensation, she gathered wetness from her entrance, rubbing it up her folds before circling the tip of her clit. She made slow movements, teasing herself the way she knew Lucy would. Her body heated up as the desire spread throughout it and her pace began to increase at her own neediness. 

Ona pushed a single digit into herself, feeling her walls flutter around it. Biting her lip, she let her mind wander again, thinking about how Lucy’s fingers would feel in her. She continued to work herself, her left hand fumbling at her phone to try and send another message to Lucy. 

Ona: need ur fingers in me so bad. mine don’t feel as good :(

She added another finger, curving it as she pushed deeper inside herself. Her head fell back on the pillow, eyes shutting as she imagined the way Lucy liked to fuck her into the mattress. Her free hand slid under her shirt, palming against her breast. She squeezed her eyes shut, visualising Lucy’s eyes darkening as she looked up at her, tongue toying at her nipple. Her fingers clasped a nipple, thinking about how Lucy would use her teeth to playfully tug on the bud. 

Ona’s hand continued to pump in herself, hips rocking to meet the thrusts. She increased her tempo, her left hand leaving her breast to play with her clit. 

The circles were roughly rubbing against her sensitive area, her body trembling at her rapidly approaching peak. With a final squeeze of her clit, Ona fell apart, a moan of Lucy’s name falling off her lips as she slowed her movements. 

Ona: just came thinking about how fine u are. i need u so bad right now baby

The fire in Ona’s stomach would not leave; she needed it to be Lucy between her thighs, not just her own hand. She fantasised about Lucy’s fingers deep in her, a warm mouth sucking her clit and cleaning up the cum leaking from her. She whined at the idea, fingers reaching down to play with her clit again. 

Ona: tell me you get to keep that outfit. i cant stop thinking about all the things i want u to do to me

She already knew her second orgasm would come soon, still feeling sensitive from the first. She bucked against her hand, the coil tightening in her core once more. Two fingers slipped lower, pressing into herself with ease.

Her movements got harder, the palm of her hand pressing into her swollen clit with every thrust. Her thighs clenched around her hand, body shaking as she came again, her clit twitching under her hand as fingers curved inside her to guide her high.

Ona: pls baby i’m so needy rn. i came again but it’s not the same. i need ur mouth on me. 

~

After the event had come to a close and all interviews had been done, Lucy was free to check her phone. She was shocked to see the number of notifications from her girlfriend. 

27 new messages. 

Lucy skimmed through the messages, feeling her face heat at the content of the messages. Her mouth went dry, looking at the numerous photos she had been sent of Ona touching herself and fucking herself. 

She quickly checked that no one could read over her shoulder before typing out her replies to Ona.

Lucy: oh my god ona?!

Lucy: fuck that’s so hot

Lucy: can’t wait to get back to barca and taste u

Lucy:*see u. sorry idk what happened there ;)

[tameodesza]

all of you

♡ Summary: Shawn’s self-esteem takes a hit after reading hate comments

♡ a/n: we love old men in love, don't we? AO3.

Hunter’s shoulders relaxed as soon as he stepped inside of his quaint suburban home. It had been a stressful week full of press conferences, board meetings, and creative discussion with Raw and Smackdown talent. With his busy schedule, he was rarely afforded the opportunity to enjoy the peace and quiet of the home he and Shawn built. Shawn was just as busy with NXT, so their competing schedules made it quite difficult to see each other with whatever free time they had. 

It was an arrangement that would destroy most marriages, but Shawn and Hunter had built a solid foundation decades before committing to one other. They’d been glued to each other since the 90’s, their friendship blossoming into a beautiful partnership that stood the test of time. They’d matured, no longer arguing about the distance or getting pissed when the other was too busy to answer the phone. Their trust was immeasurable, knowing there would always come a time when they’d reunite. Like tonight.  

Hunter kicked off his dress shoes, placing them neatly next to the cluttered pile of Shawn’s cowboy boots, sneakers, and house slippers. He looped a finger at the neck of his tie, loosening the constricting fabric until he exhaled in relief. A smile tugged at his lips as he entered the kitchen to find the counter filled with groceries that Shawn clearly forgot to put away. Over 20 years of marriage and Shawn's short attention span still amazed him.  

“Shawn?” His voice rang throughout the house announcing his presence. He expected to hear his husband’s rushed footsteps racing towards his awaiting arms. Yet, there wasn't a peep.  

Hunter did a walkthrough of their home, each room leaving traces of his husband. The TV in the living room still played a movie Shawn had yet to finish. In the laundry room, the washing machine neared the end of a wash cycle.  An uncapped tube of toothpaste rested on the counter of their bathroom.  

It wasn’t until Hunter reached their home office that he found Shawn slouched over in a chair, eyes glued to his phone with a perturbed look on his face. Now, Shawn wasn’t a big tech guy. He barely knew how to work a computer, let alone a smartphone. So, Hunter knew the blond was entertained by some dumb meme or came across a rude comment he couldn't shake.  

Hunter hoped for the meme, but judging by his husband’s clouded expression, he knew it was the latter. 

Hunter exhaled as he closed the door softly behind him. “Shawn. Put the phone down.” 

But Shawn’s eyes never wavered, the blond barely hearing Hunter approach as comments from his recent Instagram post continued to flood in. He wished to look away, but he couldn’t. His finger kept scrolling as if on autopilot, positive comments ignored as he focused on the negative. Every harsh word felt like a sharp knife digging deeper into his insecurities. He only snapped out of his trance when he felt Hunter’s hand clasp over his own before slowly pulling the device from his grasp. 

Hunter placed the phone on a bookshelf far out of Shawn’s reach. Then he stood behind Shawn, rubbing his hands along the blond's shoulders in a gentle massage. Shawn let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, sinking back comfortably into Hunter’s embrace.  

Hunter leaned down, placing a soft kiss on Shawn temple. He whispered, “You won’t be needing that now that I’m here.” 

He lightly pecked Shawn’s ear, then his cheek. Before he could kiss his neck, Shawn asked, “Am I washed up?” 

Hunter felt an ache in his chest at how vulnerable Shawn sounded. He did his best every day – whether it was in-person or through texts – to remind Shawn how much he loved him. To remind him that he was an amazing person, that so many people admired and adored him. It’s not that Shawn didn’t believe him. But any progress he had in getting the blond to see how valued he was went away whenever Shawn came across a hateful comment.  

“No, baby. Of course not.” 

Hunter kissed the nape of Shawn’s neck, hoping to provide a needed distraction, but halted when Shawn said, “You should see what they say about me.” 

Hunter let out a patient sigh. He stood straight, rounding the chair to see the dejected look in his husband’s eyes. He grabbed a chair of his own, dragging it over to sit directly in front of Shawn. He took his husband’s hand, brushing a thumb tenderly across the back. “What have I said about reading comments?” 

His tone was gentle, delicate, yet Shawn couldn’t help but look away as if he were being scolded. “I know, I know. But...I can’t help it. Especially when I’m looking for fan feedback just to see people saying I’m too old. I’m too skinny. I’ve lost my hair. I have a lazy eye. My voice is shot-” 

“Don’t let that get to you.” 

“Easy for you to say. People still think you’re hot.” 

Hunter would’ve laughed had it not been for the seriousness of their conversation. He shifted closer until their knees touched, his grip on Shawn’s hand tightening. “I don’t care what people think, Shawn. Neither should you.” 

Shawn swallowed thickly. “You’re not the one they’re calling a homewrecker.” 

Hunter’s thumb stilled. “That’s not true. You know that-” 

“Do I?” 

“Yes,” Hunter stressed, frustration slipping through his tone. “Why do you believe a bunch of random people on the internet more than your own husband?” 

Shawn’s shoulders slumped, his voice softening, “Hunter, no. It’s not that. It’s just-” he sighed, failing to search for the right words. “Sometimes I wish I could be like how I used to be. Back when I was the arrogant asshole that people hated. At least shit like this didn’t get to me.” 

If this had been the 90’s, Shawn wouldn't have cared what others thought of him. Back then, he was conceited, pompous, too full of himself. But at least he was confident. He wasn’t afraid to tell people to go fuck off. He didn't care if he came off too strong or if he hurt anyone’s feelings. He was universally hated, but that hate fed his ego – because at least that meant he had everyone’s attention.  

But he was a different man now, humbled by the errors of his past.  

Maybe this was his karma, Shawn thought. The long, flowy head of hair he was once known for was now a balding crown. His good looks, once envied by many, changed partly due to aging and years' worth of substance abuse. The athletic body he once flaunted had lost much of its muscle mass.  

Sometimes he wondered what Hunter saw in him, if Hunter had buyer’s remorse, if he regretted leaving his past relationship for him. The thought was silly to anyone that saw how in love Hunter was with Shawn, but it was hard for Shawn to see it that way when the comments ripped him to shreds. 

Hunter tugged Shawn’s arm, pulling the blond into his chair until Shawn settled comfortably on his lap. He placed Shawn’s head on his shoulder, holding him tightly as if to squeeze every negative thought out of his head. He knew how much regret Shawn had about the past, how much pain he felt remembering those he’d hurt on his way to the top. 

But it wasn’t fair. Shawn had worked so hard to change himself, to become the kind person that he was today. He'd suffered enough, had beat himself up enough about his mistakes. But the internet would never forget, and Hunter wished he could fight every person that made his husband feel less than what he saw him as. 

“You’re beautiful.” 

Shawn smiled weakly. “You’re just saying that because you’re my husband...and because I won’t cook dinner if you said otherwise.” 

Hunter smirked. “I tell no lies. I love you, Shawn. All of you.” 

Hunter hoped that would lift Shawn’s mood, but his expression remained dim. He never liked seeing Shawn upset. It further frustrated him that his positive words of affirmation didn't seem to be working. None of it mattered if Shawn didn’t believe it himself.  

“People say shit about me too, you know.” 

Shawn sat up, lifting a confused brow. “What could anyone possibly say about you? That you’re too buff? Your beard's too full? You have a perfect hairline-” 

“I played Steph.” Shawn’s sarcastic grin dwindled, tension rising as old skeletons resurfaced. “That I got with her only to secure my position in the company and left as soon as I got what I wanted. That I was screwing around with you behind her back.” 

It was quite the scandal in the early 2000’s. Gossip sites, dirt sheets, and even mainstream tabloids covered the issue, making the McMahon-Helmsley split seem more salacious that it actually was: “Wife-to-Be, Stephanie McMahon, Left at the Altar for Another Man!” 

When it turned out that the ‘other man’ was Shawn Michaels, all hell broke loose. There was a period of time where Shawn didn’t leave his home in fear of paparazzi following him. He and Hunter were both written off TV until the company could figure out how to address the public. Hunter spent most of that time in Texas with Shawn, consoling him and promising that everything would be ok once the truth was out.  

The reality was that Stephanie and Hunter had a long, open and honest conversation about everything before amicably calling off the engagement. Their relationship had been on a downward spiral for some time, and Hunter knew Stephanie was too smart to ignore the signs. He admitted that he was in love with Shawn. Had been since 1996, but never pursued anything because Shawn was with Kevin. Then he was with Bret. Then Taker. And by 1999 he was gone from the company.  

Years later, Hunter had moved on with Stephanie, both developing feelings for each other when they were put together for a storyline. But when Shawn returned, so did the feelings that Hunter tried so hard to bury. It was like Shawn had never left, their connection running deeper than anything he had with Stephanie.  

Hunter never cheated, at least not physically. But emotionally, his heart was torn in opposite directions. He’d tried being ‘just friends’ with Shawn, tried pushing his feelings aside, tried committing to his engagement with Stephanie. But he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. There were many instances where he almost crossed the line with Shawn – empty locker rooms, late nights at bars, sharing hotel rooms. The opportunity had always presented itself, but Hunter had too much respect for both Stephanie and Shawn to put them in that position. 

So, he told Stephanie everything. He knew there was a chance that it wouldn’t work out with Shawn, that the blond could reject him, that his friendship with Kevin would likely be soured by him dating his ex. There were so many risks, but Hunter chose to follow his heart and not go through with the wedding.  

Things were awkward for a bit after that, even messier since Hunter was involved on the business side of WWE. But all wounds healed over time, though Shawn’s guilty conscience would never let him forget the role he played.  

“That’s different,” said Shawn. “They didn’t have all the facts-” 

“And neither do these idiots that talk shit about you today.” Shawn quieted, not having a decent rebuttal. “You want to know what else they say about me?” 

“No, Hunter. I get it-” 

“That I got a wrinkly forehead. I mean, it’s bad enough they come for my nose. But my forehead?! Now that’s going too far.” 

Hunter’s exaggerated rant had done exactly as intended – cracked a smile on Shawn’s face, a giggle bubbling in his throat before he burst into laughter.  

“How dare they,” Shawn teased. He cupped Hunter’s face in his hands, pulling him forward to kiss the man’s ‘wrinkly’ forehead, then the tip of his nose. His lips ghosted over Hunter’s, repeating his earlier sentiment, “I love you. All of you, you sexy man.” 

They wore matching smiles, their stretched age lines reflecting years of happiness. A lot had changed over time, but one thing that remained steady was their unwavering love for each other.  

Hunter placed his hand on the back of Shawn’s, gently voicing, “I need you to do something for me, ok?” Shawn nodded. “No more social media for a while. We can get someone to manage your accounts if you want, but you need a break, Shawn.” 

Hunter expected some pushback, but was surprised when Shawn gave a quiet, “Ok.” Shawn pressed their lips together, sharing a short, sweet kiss before resting his head back on Hunter’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re home.” 

“Me too, Shawn. Me too.” 

They stayed like that for some time, two old men grateful to still be in each other’s lives, mind and bodies matured not just by time, but their decades-long fight for each other. In Hunter’s protective arms, those harsh comments that previously echoed in Shawn’s mind faded into the background. 

[eitaababe]

SOMEBODY ELSE !

— chapter 16. found out.

a/n — ooh boy

series masterlist. | previous / next

written portion below. —

it wasn't long after you sent the text that ao'nung showed up at your door, confusion clearly written across his face. his hair was messy, red pajama bottoms still worn, an old baseball tee covering his top.

you ignored his disheveled (and really attractive) appearance, remembering why you invited him over. you didn't bother inviting him inside, pissed at the idea that he would keep neteyam's apology from you. "who was at the door that night?"

ao'nung's eyes widened for a split second, before quickly recovering. "it wasn't any-"

"don't fucking lie to me!" you snapped, catching him off guard again. "tell me the truth, ao'nung."

he gulped, refusing to meet your eye. "neteyam was there," he paused, and for a moment you thought he wouldn't say anything else before he met your gaze, dropping his shoulders and rubbing a hand over his face. "he was there to apologize to you."

"why would you lie?" you sighed, exasperated, leaning against the doorway with your arms crossed.

"i don't really know, honestly," ao'nung admitted, his breath hitching for a moment. "i was jealous, i guess."

"you were jealous?" you questioned condescendingly, the boy cowering underneath your gaze. "you were jealous, so you figured you would just try and ruin a friendship between me and a guy i've known since i was 12?"

"he said those things about me, don't forget that!"

"i'm not taking that away from you!" you roared back, anger only rising when he raised his voice at you. "i get you're mad too, eywa, you have a right to be. he said shit about you, granted he chose to believe the wrong person, but he said it nevertheless. but you and me both know he did it out of caution for me, and i defended you anyways. i ignored him for over a week, only to find out just now he was trying to apologize this whole time just because you decided to keep it from me."

he was only quiet throughout your whole lecture, knowing you were right. ao'nung could've gave less of a shit about neteyam saying things about him, he just hated how close the two of you were, especially knowing how you felt about neteyam. he opened his mouth, knowing he was only digging a deeper hole for himself that he definitely wouldn't be able to drag himself out of, but you deserved nothing but the truth at this point. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry y/n. it's just- i was being irrational. i know how you felt about him, so i kept it from you hoping you'd just move on-"

"do you realize how fucking dumb that sounds?" you cut him off, steam practically blowing out of your ears. "feelings or not for neteyam, he's still my best friend. you don't get to decide shit for me," you argued, standing straight up now. "just get out of here ao'nung, before you make things worse."

you didn't give him a chance to reply before shutting the door on him.

FUN FACTS !

— tsireya heard what happened and is fully ready to kick her brother's ass

— kiri knew something was wrong, it wasn't like neteyam to go that long without apologizing

— neteyam fell out of his bed when y/n texted him

—

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