#ride AND die au

[pipedreame]

Ride AND Die AU

(Danny Phantom DanDash Prompt #1)

AU in which Dash has been part of the squad since third grade and goes into the portal with Danny (as a show of solidarity against Tucker and Sam’s annoying nagging) and they both come out half-dead. There are now TWO ghost boys running around Amity Park.

With a heaping load of angst: Danny for letting Dash go with him into one of his parents’ malfunctioning contraptions and Dash for accidentally tripping Danny and making the damned thing turn on in the first place and of course Sam and Tuck for egging them on and resulting in their two best friends dying and not to even mention the fact that Danny’s parents now want to hunt them both for sport and disect them in the name of science

But also a healthy load of fun and fluff: the boys learning how to use their powers together, increasingly absurd excuses to get out of classes/events to go fight ghosts, and a super fun and convenient mind and/or physical link caused by the two being in such close proximity during the accident (they were totally hugging, but who can blame them, really)

Sam: Guys I think the term is ‘Ride OR Die’ not ‘Ride AND Die’

Dash: Well maybe we’re just more serious about this friendship than you are, Manson

Danny: Yeah, Sam, we’re deadly serious. Get on our level

Tucker: I feel like two dead friends is enough actually

Dash: You’re right, two’s a party but three’s a crowd

Sam: What’s four, then?

Danny: A funeral procession

[caycanteven]

You've been caught~ Pose idea thanks to @aylish91! This guy lives rent free in my head ya'll.

[moonsnqil]

aftg au where andrew is a burnt out musician who's sick and tired of writing/playing shitty music bc his label says it sells better. he meets one deaf neil josten at some no-name pub on the east coast. he's a little mesmerized by the way neils hair catches in the bar lights and how his eyes track the woman playing bass on stage. andrew offers to buy him a drink and then he offers to blow him. it's a no but at first neil looked at him confused and andrews about to start wondering how someone who looks like that would be confused about an offer like that but then neil asks him to write his question down. he does. (there's something humbling about writing a proposition down). neil says no but they trade notes back and forth until the line of indie artists waiting their turn for the stage dwindled into nothing. the last thing andrew writes is his phone number. they talk, well, they text. neil doesn't know him, not the way magazine covers and top 40 radio hits know him. to neil, andrew minyard is just a guy that plays the drums and occasionally writes lyrics. one day, when he asks why neil loves watching him play his drums so much, why he goes to indie night at the pub when he can't hear the words they sing, neil tells him that he likes the thumping in the ground. it steadies him, calms him down as if his ear was pressed to someone's heart. he likes the way the artists lose themselves to their music in a way so obvious. its with neil peering into andrew's grand piano, his eyes watching the hammers pop, that he remembers why he started making music in the first place and for the first time in months he actually wants to compose something

[morganbritton132]

Even more Steve Has Older Siblings AU add-ons:

1. Steve wanted to be a ninja so bad when he was little but Hawkins didn’t have any martial arts classes he could take. Jason offered to ‘teach’ him. This was just an excuse to throw him around a bit but they had to stop when he accidentally dislocated Steve’s elbow two weeks before basketball tryouts.

2. Anytime his dad decided to be a good father, he’d send Steve to his grandparents for the weekend that the other kids were at their house and then do activities with them. Steve didn’t mind this at the time because Grandpa Otis told him cool stories about the war, but when he got older he realized that it was a really fucked up thing to do.

3. Steve thinks that Richie is spearheading fixing their relationship because his own kids live in a different state now, but it’s actually because Will Byers went missing. He called the house six times in between Will going missing and being found, and no one picked up the phone once. It genuinely scared him, especially because he heard their dad bitch about Barb going missing at their house. Steve was mainly screening the calls but for one of them, he was fighting a monster.

4. Carol fucking hates Steve’s siblings so much. She used to cut tiny holes in their bedsheets with fingernail clippers when she’d come over on the weeks that they weren’t there. Later when she worked the summer at the movie theater, she’d spit in their drinks.

5. The first time Steve’s siblings meet Eddie Munson (sans Richie) is after the murder charges are dropped. It’s also in the middle of a forced family dinner. They’re all sitting there awkwardly and then heard the door fling open, and Eddie shout out as he moved through the house, “Harrrrrington, let’s go! I’ve got beer in the cooler and a lunchbox full of - bibles. Hi!” Steve’s out of his chair and dragging Eddie back out the house like, “Sorry, gotta go. To church. Bye mama, love you. Bye.” Eddie is crackling the entire time and Steve comes home the next morning smelling like weed and a good time, and is promptly handed a cup to go piss in. Jason takes the drug test for him. Fails it.

[silence-ofthe-llamas]

More Mech Au-Au!

Swindle-orientated chapter, with sprinkles of TexAid.

Swindle smiled at everyone.

He smiled at those he was happy with, he smiled at those who had pissed him off, he smiled at those he was making deals with, the list was endless.

The only time he didn’t smile was when he was on his own. The door would click closed behind him, the lock automatically engaging, and the facade would slide from his face.

This all had to be worth it. It had to. He’d risked so much already, he was gambling at stakes he couldn’t pay. Failure would mean death, death for all five of them, and as such, failure was unacceptable.

He’d promised Onslaught.

Vortex was a source of pride for him - a prototype mech who had survived against all odds, plumping up his resume handsomely. The only surviving AI from that round and the round that came after - against all odds, Vortex had persisted. He hadn’t self destructed like his own cohort had, he hadn’t lost his sense of reality, he didn’t completely lose himself. He remained exactly who he was, for better or for worse. The discussions of destroying him once he’d begun to show his more aggressive tendencies were terrifying, sending Swindle scrambling for ways to extract Vortex from the mech. They didn’t get this far just to be treated like they were disposable. Had they forgotten that they were real people they’d trapped within the metal? What did it matter that they were slated to die anyway? That didn’t mean they could just be destroyed when they became inconvenient, there was supposed to be a due process. They were owed that much.

Swindle hung up his hat and ran his hand through his hair. Fuck. They’d gotten so lucky with that boy – Felix, right? That was his name, and Swindle has a vague recollection of his name meaning luck. Good for them that he lived up to it – they were lucky that he was persistent and determined, lucky that Vortex seemed to like him. His teammate liked to play with his food, and it seemed he was settling in to give First Aid a good long chew. Which was good! It meant Vortex was unknowingly buying himself some more time whilst he looked for ways to extract him and put him in something else. Anything else would do at this point - shit, he could be his toaster and burn his toast for eternity. At least he’d still be alive and he wouldn’t be left alone again.

Shit. How depressing. How did this become their only option?

Swindle kicked off his shoes, neatly placing them away onto the rack, and shrugged off his jacket

“I want to make them burn in hell.”

He’d done it because he had to. He took no pleasure in what happened to his team after he gave the wrong people the right intel - but it was this, or they’d all be dead. Like, dead-in-the-ground-dead. Skullfucked by maggots dead. Not on ice, not in giant suits of armour with guns and swords bigger than buildings, dead. Dead and forgotten, and it would be all five of them. Nobody alive to fight in their corner, nobody to keep them as safe as they could, nobody to do what needed to be done.

The screams didn’t haunt him like they used to. While they were still alive, skulking around the research centre with tags and monitors and cables and cameras on them at all times, people did terrible things to them. Trepan was the most frightening. He was enraptured with the idea of creating super soldiers. That’s what they’d tried at first - they’d needed warm, fresh, and living bodies - and who would notice if a mercenary group went missing? Everyone would just assume that they had died, and that would be that. They wouldn’t even look for their corpses.

Vortex had been the most difficult one for them to deal with. He was rude, unruly, and dished back what he was given. At one point they’d had to strap him down Hannibal style just to give him his injections - after they’d removed his prosthetic arm when he’d slashed through the restraints and three researchers with the hidden blade, he’d taken to biting down hard enough to rip chunks of flesh from the researchers instead. Vortex would laugh through the blood that dripped down his chin, but he’d always ended up screaming.

Brawl was freakishly quiet. He would press his palms to his temples, his eyes dull and face gaunt. Swindle would never admit how it made his insides churn, how guilt had ravaged him into sleepless nights. They all screamed, they all cried through the agony of it, but it was the worst when they were quiet. His team wasn’t meant to be quiet. They were always doing something, saying something. Vortex was always pissing off Blast Off, winding him up like a younger sibling did to an older one. Brawl was always playing music far too loud in his headphones. Onslaught was much quieter, but he was his own kind of orchestra of sound. A gun being cleaned, turning pages, the squeak of leather.

They weren’t in the research facility. They were shadows of themselves.

Onslaught had always given Swindle his looks though. No blame. No fault given. Thankful. They’d made a promise, after all. They’d agreed that this was what they would do, how it would happen. Anything that gave them longer to figure out what the fuck they were going to do.

The experiments were a failure. All it gave them were broken men. But that only gave them perfectly usable test subjects for something else, for another failing project.

Trepan had asked Swindle personally who he would volunteer as their first test subject. Who did he think had the best chance of success? Who did he think would make the best immortal warrior?

The cockroach, he’d replied. Vortex was fucking impossible to kill. He’d seen him getting himself blown up multiple times. He’d had to pay to fix his face, he’d had to pay to fix his spine, he’d had to pay for that damn prosthetic and every single hospital stay to stitch him back together. And not once had the man been touched by death. If a nuclear bomb were to fall on them, he was convinced Vortex would emerge unscathed and demanding a cigarette.

He was also extremely resistant to control. He despised being told what to do. Onslaught was an exception because he had actually made an effort to build a rapport with him, it was a relationship built on mutual respect and understanding. And Trepan? Every single scientist in this building? Vortex would rend them to dust and ash if they even entertained the thought of controlling him.

It was a hopeful moment, a glimpse into an optimistic future. Vortex would lose his humanity, but they would all regain their freedom.

But good things didn’t favour terrible men.

Fuck, he wanted a cigarette.

The photoshoot with Blurr was overrunning. It was already eleven o’clock at night - they’d been at this since 10 in the morning, working hard to get their perfect shots. The photogenic mechanics (paid actors). The intelligent engineers (more paid actors). The trustworthy medics (yet more paid actors). Their only non-actor was Blurr, but even then he was just their show dog. He wasn’t actually a pilot, not in the traditional sense. He wasn’t deployed, he was paraded.

Blurr would want to talk after, to natter away about something or other, to get a drink together and maybe a bite to eat, but Swindle just wanted to go to bed. He was tired. Exhausted. Going into his teammates lockers to grab a photograph had just dug up old memories from where he’d buried them, and he’d woken up with Vortex’s screams in his native tongue ringing in his ears, unable to get back to sleep. He could still hear it between the sounds of the camera shutter.

First Aid seemed to be a nice enough kid. He got on well with others, he did his job without complaint, and he was efficient. He didn’t dally around when he was to clamber into Vortex, he was quick and to the point - and, Swindle noticed with growing curiosity, he studiously avoided touching his controls.

If only the pilots were smart enough to pick up on that. Shame, really. It was starting to get real expensive to keep this quiet.

So it was with quiet horror that he watched as First Aid was trapped within the cockpit, the medic accompanying him collapsing to the floor as blood spurted up the glass from where his leg used to be.

He found himself hissing through his teeth. Don’t do anything stupid, Tex!

When First Aid stumbled out looking like his first pilot he’d ever had did, Swindle felt a grim mood take over him. How hard was it to fucking behave? To not do something so unbelievably stupid? To not get himself killed? Apparently it was too much for Vortex to fucking control himself.

But First Aid had been okay. The next day he was as chipper and chirpy as ever with full recollection of the previous day. He’d thought it was funny.

And that’s when Swindle knew that the boy was their chance. If he could survive Vortex, if Vortex was allowing him to live, then they had to seize the opportunity they could.

Nobody listened. Nobody fucking listened. They were repatriating children in biohazard bags, not even a hand left intact for their loved ones to hold as they said goodbye, and they weren’t listening to him.

They needed Felix Anwyl in that mech. Now. He was sick of watching lambs being offered up for sacrifice. Vortex was a malicious bastard but even he would get bored of it all eventually - and from where Swindle was standing, he saw a much better chance of getting their brothers online if Vortex settled down and stopped acting like he was possessed by the devil.

Seeing Felix sprinting towards Vortex in a pilots suit that didn’t fit him, Swindle discretely cleared the way. He distracted the officers with him, had them avert their eyes for a second to let him pass. He redirected people, he gave distractions, he delayed who he could to buy First Aid much needed time to get to the mech before that cadet took a single step inside. Vortex would kill them for the intrusion, he’d explicitly had enough of it and was demanding what was his. His words in the morning memos were enough.

Swindle was out of options. He needed to get First Aid into that mech before they stamped the paperwork to render the supposed AI obsolete and for the scrap heap.

He didn’t have a toaster ready for him yet.

Prowl had looked thunderous on the catwalk. So had Pharma. He had to fight to keep his grin at bay - he had to press his hand to his lips to hide it when Vortex began yelling ‘mine’ through the walkie talkie.

Oh, he really liked this one.

Pharma had kicked up the biggest fuss. He didn’t want to lose his precious medic.

Swindle checked his file. First Aid hadn’t been on any major medical assignments since the previous year, and there was no record of why. No particular displeasures, no signs of any faults or major errors, any need to retrain, or competencies lapsing and requiring reassessment. Pharma had just decided to force First Aid away from his job in some bizarre, inexplicable act.

He’d grabbed him by the collar and hissed into his ear that the blood was on his hands. That if he wanted to keep First Aid, then he could be the one to clear the mech out, that he would be the one to write to the families and explain what had happened.

Pharma had opened his mouth and begun to say something about a punishment, but Swindle placed his finger to his lips and shook his head.

“It’s not on his record.” He reminded him, tapping the file. “Do you want to incriminate yourself? Right here?”

And so he’d received the stamp of approval that evening. The ink was still wet as he shook Pharmas hand, the man holding his too tightly.

First Aid seemed to like Vortex too.

Pilots didn’t usually go and hang out with their mechs. They liked to be near them – apparently there was something about the connection that had them bond in such a way that they liked to be close to them, that they’d feel drawn towards them, but First Aid’s seemed to be almost excessive. At every free opportunity, he was there. If you couldn’t find him, the advice was to check Vortex – he’d probably be in the cockpit reading a book or listening to music, or he’d be elbow deep cleaning out the joints from the gunk the clean up crew didn’t manage to get. If it was a meal time and he wasn’t in his room or in the cafeteria, he was with Vortex.

His secondary role on base was still, technically, a medic – but Pharma had made it clear that he wasn’t welcome back in the medical bay. He’d made his bed, so to speak – if he wanted to be a pilot, then he’d be one, but it was at the sacrifice of his oath to medicine, so he wasn’t allowed to perform it. He was left to spin his wheels, to attend training sessions when they could run them for him (it was an open secret that he wasn’t a pilot, but a secret it was) and scratch his arse until the alarm went off and he was marked for deployment.

Swindle didn’t know that Pharma could hold such a grudge. He’d made a mental note to never piss him off.

A few times, when Swindle couldn’t sleep and was on a walk, he’d seen First Aid slipping into Vortex. He’d raised his brows at that.

Swindle didn’t know how Vortex hadn’t squished him yet.

Vortex fell back into the Shatterdome, rain thundering down on his armour sounding like the roar of a passing train. Sparks erupted from the gaping hole where his shoulder used to be, two of his back blades torn free and the remaining hanging on by rapidly breaking cables. The mech fell to its knees, catching itself on its remaining arm, its visor flashing a single message over and over.

OBJECTIVE ONE: PROTECT THE PILOT.

For the first time, Vortex had obeyed the objective embedded into each of their mechs. Protect the pilot. More than that, he’d brought him straight back to them.

Swindle watched him in quiet awe.

Wow. He really liked this one.

When the radio had cut out in a roar of static, Swindle had half expected Vortex to stay out on the front and continue his slaughter like he usually did when his pilot died, but instead he watched as the red dot that symbolised Vortex on the screen instead turned around and began sprinting back to the Shatterdome, ignoring all of the targets around him, ignoring when a quintesson got a good hit on him, barrelling past the other deployed mechs. Mission Control received multiple communications from the other pilots out in the field, confused calls from the crews of the helicopters monitoring from above - Vortex wasn’t responding. Vortex was moving entirely independently - his pilot was unresponsive and his life signal was so weak it could easily have been the electricity from the cables exposed to the elements being detected instead.

His walkie talkie crackled as Vortex looked directly at the large room Mission Control sat in overlooking the hangar. A voice he hadn’t heard in years ground out.

“He dies, everyone dies.”

Swindle swallowed hard, and nodded.

“Tex?” The voice was weak and unrecognisable. Swindle realised it must have been Felix. He was alive and conscious enough to speak - Swindle was already waving off people trying to get permission to do things, motioning for them to just get fucking on with it.

“Get that pilot out!” He hissed at them.

“It’s going to be okay.” Vortex promised. Swindle didn’t know his voice could get so soft.

“Stay put, Tex. Don’t move a muscle and unlock your emergency escape, the medics are here.” Swindle spoke into the walkie talkie. He received a few weird looks from those around him, but he ignored them. He’d field their curiosities later - for now, he had to focus on keeping Felix alive and figuring out how they were going to safely contain Vortex.

Fuck. He wished Onslaught had been activated. He’d know what to do. For a brief moment he wished their positions were reversed. He’d have handled all this shit so much better. Swindle would never tell him or ever admit it, but Onslaught was always the brains of the unit, he always had a plan. He’d probably have had all of them activated by now, brought the whole team back together again.

He chewed his bottom lip until it bled, the taste of copper stinging on his tongue.

The medic had to live. He had to. There was no protecting Vortex if he went on a murder spree - they could just about justify the pilots being pulverised inside of him, the difference between the cost to spec up and build and test a mech that was his equal vs the cost to train a new pilot was extraordinary. Vortex could, in theory, chew through a few hundred more pilots before they’d start to wonder if they should have just built a new mech. But to destroy a whole base?

Yeah. No. It would be significantly more difficult to justify it as a misidentified ‘protect the pilot’ protocol. Sure, he could argue that the base failed to save his pilot, but how would the mech know? Why did the mech identify the Shatterdome as a target? Clearly it was faulty, glitched, and needed to go.

Vortex was not one to be reasoned with. Swindle knew that all too well. There wasn’t going to be the opportunity to talk him down from his decision.

They succeeded, or they failed. That was it. One or the other. Felix survived, or everyone died.

God, he prayed that Felix was as much of a cockroach as Vortex was.

[quesocheeso]

the whole affair baby situation genuinely cracks me up as someone whose a big fan of jttw and just sun wukong in general like. I know he did like a mountain of crimes but NEVER and i mean NEVER would he ever cheat on someone. how dare.

(jttw! dbk and pif chapter be like:)

Sun Wukong: I could excuse mass murder but I draw the line at adultery.

Tripitaka: You could excuse mass murder? :(

anyways. i love your comics <3<3<3 genuinely a highlight of my day i look forward to them always <3<3<3 i hope swk was on the verge of tears, crying and begging mac to believe him when the affair rumors started going around lol

ANON YOU GET IT LMAO HAVE A GOLD STAR⭐

This is so real and there's a bonus chapter for the first arc of TTM that is just Shadowpeach's reaction to PIF calling up Mac like "yo there's a kid here with SWK aura so...do we ride at dawn?" And SWK is like "BRO WHAT?? I WOULD NEVER!!"

We do get some healthy shadowpeach tho cause I can't resist y'know😌✨

[somereaderinblue]

Penelope: Okay guys, my Husband has just been kidnapped and taken away from me.

Ctimene: where are we going to find a soldier willing enough to help u-

*busts down door*

Diomedes: they did WHAT to Ody!?

- Zobody with a Z

HOW DARE THEY TAKE HIS BRO? WHO WILL SHITTALK OTHERS WITH HIM?? WHO'S GONNA MATCH HIS FREAK NOW???

THIS IS UNFORGIVABLE! OH THE INHUMANITY!

[edorazzi]

Page 13 of my Miraculous Mentor AU comic A Matter of Trust! In which Felix crawls home from what he thinks is a one-time magical assignment - but he's about to learn exactly what Plagg signed him up for! 😈

Index | Prev | Next

Weekly updates each Sunday! You can also read ahead early on Patreon, and/or buy me a Ko-fi if you'd like to support my work! 💖

[lonely-ey3s]

Ride or Die | Masterlist

pairing: joelmiller!rodeocowboy (no outbreak) x f!reader

series summary: You're traveling back home to your parents and your sister and you turn up at the county fair. You attend the annual rodeo show as your little brother is participating in that summer. What you don't expect to do is meet a bull and bare-bucking rodeo cowboy named Joel Miller who's got his sights set on you.

series warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI), fluff, angst, talks of smut, emotional abuse from a parent, mentions of death of a parent, no outbreak AU, sexual tension, drinking, intoxication, infidelity of a partner and parent, switched POV.

✨NEW CHAPTER EVERY OTHER SUNDAY✨

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter 10

Epilogue

no pressure taglist: @thebeautytoyourbeat, @sarahhxx03, @blahkateisdone, @sunnytuliptime, @pedroscurls, @docharleythegeekqueen @pedritosgirl2000 @fancyyoouu @greendudenumber7, @queenofdisaster12 @axshadows @mystickittytaco @yxtkiwiyxt @alltheirdamn @punkshort @stylesispunk @iheartoldermem @mermaidgirl30 @mountainsandmayhem @sp00kymulderr @brittmb115 @poor-unfortunate-soul9927 @spacelatinos4life @pedge-page @pedropascalfab @readingiskeepingmegoing @sincerelywithheartt @youusunshineyoutemptress @lilasskicker-23 @melsunshine

[darkpetal16]

Hi, anon from the jealousy question. I meant Mafia fell, classic, fell.

Got it. I assume you mean by classic fell that is Underfell? Screenshot of the original question:

I’ll do someone flirting with S/O since that’s different than S/O just having a good friend.

Mafiafell!Sans (Hit): FLIRTING?? In front of him???? They’re dead. They are literally beaten beyond recognition with his bare fists.

Mafiafell!Papyrus (Boss): How rude! He won’t stand for it, and he’ll loudly and firmly confront the individual. If they back off & respect the relationship then he’ll let it go. But if not, he’ll have no choice but to live up to his reputation as a member of the mafia. Reputation is king.

Mafiafell!Wingding (Don): They disappear quietly into the night and he will gaslight deny they ever existed in the first place.

Mafiafell!Asriel (Heir): In front of you he’ll keep it cordial. If that’s enough to resolve the issue, great. If not, busting kneecaps with his favorite golf club should do the trick.

Underfell!Sans (Red): “ha ha ha, aren’t yeh a funny guy! howsabout i take yeh out for a sandwich? oh, what kind. . . ? my favorite. a knuckle sandwhich. think that’s funny? wait until yah see my next punchline. it’ll knock yeh flat on yer ass.”

Underfell!Papyrus (Edge): He’ll bluster and intimidate the other person. He doesn’t want to get violent and put you in an uncomfortable position, so hopefully the Scary Dog Face is enough. If it’s not. . . Oh, well. Looks like his brother has already picked a fight with the poor thing.

Underfell!Wingding (Fell): That’s so cute. He’s not worried in the least bit. He doesn’t care unless it bothers you, then he really has no choice but to step in and handle it. By handle he means you don’t see them again, and he gets a new lab rat.

Underfell!Asriel (Prince): Words are enough to shoo away any of your other suitors. He strives to maintain a level of politeness that is expected of him as the leader to his people. It might snap through if words aren’t enough, but he’s not about to brawl a civilian and put you both in an awkward spot legally. If they don’t go, he’ll follow the legal process of filing a restraining order and then the mages will brawl the person instead because how DARE someone upset the monsters by god do they not know how desperate humanity was.

Underfell!Grillby (Fellby): He trusts you to handle it, and if you need assistance a simple nod to the dog squad or Sans takes care of it.

PLAY IF - MAFIAFELL

PLAY IF - UNDERFELL

[stebeans]

Arcane F1AU

Sexy time abounds y'all

Warnings: explicit sex, g!p Caitlyn [has a penis]

Can be considered canon-adjacent to my F1AU-verse. These flings still happen in the F1AU...just you know, without the dick if that's your fancy. Just wanted to write g!p Caitlyn landing all the girls (OC's)

Filth. Just utter filth.

Takes place year 4 of Caitlyn's F1 career but first year with Hextech Petronas, end of season after she won the 25' world driver's championship. Exploring Caitlyn's off track relationships and flings.

She's a Lady Killer - Part 1

The Actress

For a person of her celebrity acclaim, under the constant gun and scrutiny of the public eye, Caitlyn Kiramman's personal relationships was skillfully and thoroughly hidden under wraps. Sure there had been the occasional rumors of budding romances with a handful of equally well-known names that the general public ate up but nothing was ever proven concrete.

Standing on the red carpet was like as if Caitlyn had strapped a target right over her chest. It might as well have flashing lights and sirens that announced anyone within a fifty-foot vicinity that she was in a relationship of sorts - complete opposite to her usual smoke and mirrors act reserved towards her casual dalliances.

Dressed to the nines in a custom-made Valentino suit, a navy blue that was almost black with cleverly floral embellishments sewn within the lapels that blended in with the silk material, Caitlyn wore it like it was armor. A deftly tied matching silk bowtie sat snugly around her neck as she posed for the cameras, her hand resting casually around the waist of a blonde-haired bombshell who just so happened to be the woman of the hour at the world premier of the latest blockbuster film.

Rarely did a woman ever exceed Caitlyn in height but the woman standing next to her, so close they might as well been one person, happened to rock four-inch high heels, which brought her a couple inches taller than Caitlyn's own six-foot frame.

"Miss Rivers! How long have you and Miss Kiramman been coupled?"

"Miss Rivers! I'm with the Piltover Times. Can you please state your official relationship with Miss Kiramman on record?"

A grin grew across the blonde's features as reporters shouted out questions regarding her date rather than her blockbuster movie. "Darling, looks like you've stolen my show." She teased with the corner of her lips as she tilted her head and flashed the crowd her, quite literally, award winning smile.

The hand at her hip tightening marginally beneath the skintight red gown that was absolutely sinful, just toeing the line of indecent. "Nonsense. I assure you, all eyes are on you tonight. You look absolutely ravishing. They'd be insane to look anywhere but at you."

"Flatterer." The blonde actress quipped, but felt her stomach flutter at the compliment, allowing Caitlyn to gently guide her further down the carpet, stopping to pose every now and again, ignoring the wild speculations the reporters were pelting them with. All other interests regarding the cast or the movie itself has taken a back seat to the latest development that quite frankly, had taken everyone off guard. Caitlyn Kiramman, for all they knew, did not have relationships. And if she did, she certainly did not flaunt them.

They were nearing the entrance of the building when one last reporter shouted "Miss Kiramman, over here please! Is Lola Conners aware of this development? Sources say you were caught in a lip lock with the supermodel just hours after your race win securing your world championship title in your very first year with Hextech Petronas! I assume congratulations are in order." The reporter smirked behind the multiple flashes, leaving the last statement vague enough to question what exactly he had been congratulating Caitlyn on.

The actress was no stranger to the rumors surrounding the Kiramman heir, star driver of famed Hextech Petronas who had been making waves all season long with win after hard-earned win. She had heard the hushed speculations and gossip within her celebrity circle that the young Kiramman often left a string of broken hearts in her path. She had known of Caitlyn's womanizer reputation, often claiming her career was at the forefront to deal with long term relationships, even when she had asked her agent to reach out to Caitlyn's own people to set up an innocent coffee date months ago, the timing suspiciously close to the last race and cover story "lip lock" with said model.

A foreign sensation fell over the actress as she noticed the reddening of Caitlyn's ears from the corner of her eye. Besides the reddened ear that only she had seemed to notice, Caitlyn appeared valiantly composed despite the onslaught of personal questions. Not just a lip lock it seems, the actress thought resentfully, despite knowing that the aforementioned lip lock happened far before they established a relationship.

Very vaguely she realized it was jealousy she was feeling, something she wasn't used to feeling as she had everything at her fingertips. Money, cars, fame and currently it was Caitlyn's arms she was wrapped around for the world to see. Even she knew that was a big step for the world champion driver.

Ignoring the press around her, the actress tilted her head slightly to meet expressive blue eyes. They held a look of questioning but as the actress hesitated, Caitlyn seemed to understand the actress's silent question and pulled her in closer by the hips. Soft lips brushed against her cheek in comfort and the actress heard the frenzied clicking as cameras went off wildly around them. She could only imagine the headlines that would follow tomorrow morning but she didn't care as she embraced the claiming kiss on her cheek.

Later that night

"Jealous, were you darling?" Caitlyn teased which quickly morphed into a long low moan as the actress above her sunk heavily down onto her cock.

Ignoring the jest, the actress continued her rise and fall, chasing her release that she was just on the cusp on. She could feel it. She was right there. Her inner walls quivered, spilling wave after wave of slick down the hardness within her and across Caitlyn's thighs. The wet echoes of their joining was just downright dirty. She whined pitifully as she sunk down once more, her legs weakened but unable to surrender to her release, the girth within her much too thick for her to fully contract against.

They had barely made it past the threshold of the hotel room before the actress was jerking the clothes off of Caitlyn in hasty desperate movements, instantly molding herself along the athletic frame of the world champion driver and caputuring her lips in a passionate lock. Now this was a lip lock worthy of headlines, she had thought absentmindedly.

She had already come once, right there against the door with deft fingers working her over. Another as they relocated to the california king sized bed where Caitlyn had ate her out like a woman starved until she spilled into her awaiting mouth. And now she had taken charge, flipping Caitlyn onto her back before mounting her erect cock. The Hextech driver wielded a length that suited her tall frame with a deceptively thick girth that betrayed the driver's leanness which had surprised her the first time they had fell into bed. How the driver managed to hide all that within her racing suit was a world wonder.

She paused, leaning forward to rest her hands against defined collarbones, twisting and grinding against the rock hard member within her. The actress whimpered distressingly, still unable to finish and Caitlyn, ever the consummate lover, noticed immediately and rose to wrap the actress in her arms. "Here. Allow me." Caitlyn whispered before twisting to reposition the actress carefully beneath her.

Hooking her arms beneath the actress's long lean legs, she settled them upon her sturdy shoulders as she lifted the actress's hips just slightly off the bed, meticulously adjusting the pliable body - as if it were putty in her hands - to a position which she knew would be infinitely pleasant for the blonde.

Already the actress could feel Caitlyn pressing deeper and against the spongy spot within her warm depths. "Relax, let me do the work." Caitlyn instructed before her hips took off, catching the actress off guard.

"Fuuuuuuck!" The actress moaned long and loud from the unrelenting battering against her sensitive g-spot that past lovers and even toys had a hard time finding. Caitlyn didn't seem to have a problem though. She pushed against it like a woman possessed.

Her mind went blank, ears ringing as all senses focused on her pussy and the most pleasurable ravishing it was receiving. Her hands twisted in the sheets beneath her, head tilted back and back arched as she received the fucking of a lifetime. "Harder! Fuck me harder!" She screamed, uncaring if the occupants in the hotel room next door, or fuck, if the whole building, could hear.

Ignoring the burning muscles of her abs, Caitlyn continued her onslaught, hands gripping slim hips tightly as she pulled the woman closer, hilting deeper than ever and eliciting a cry of pleasure that bounced off the walls.

"Yes, yes, YES!" The actress cried out, her body shaking as her pussy tightened and swallowed the long, girthy cock selfishly.

"That's it." Caitlyn panted, leaning over to hover over the actress, hips driving hard and deep, just railing the blonde into the bed. "Let it go darling. Cum for me. I want to feel you cum around my cock."

The low raspy voice and the pistoning cock was her undoing. "I'M CUMMING!" the actress screamed, her pussy finally, finally reaching the edge and diving headlong over it.

Letting out a grunt, Caitlyn gritted her teeth and forced herself to hold on, feeling the wet walls close so tight around her cock she was so sure she was going to release as well. Thrusting gingerly, Caitlyn rocked slowly into the blonde, prolonging the actress's much needed orgasm.

When the twitching of the pussy she was seated fully within finally resided, Caitlyn carefully withdrew, watching as the actress's fluids rush out now that she was no longer plugged by her fat dick. Groaning at the picture perfect pussy, Caitlyn ripped off the condom and jerked herself once, twice, three times before erupting across the blonde's stomach and chest, painting the round firm breasts with her white milky cum.

Despite the tiredness that settled in her bones after that intense fucking, the actress rested a hand on Caitlyn's sharp jawline. "Come here." She requested softly, voice hoarse from all the screaming.

Carefully, Caitlyn removed the legs from her shoulders, laying them on the bed with a gentle pat before shuffling up along the long lean body until her slowly leaking cock was hovering just over the red lip-sticked lips, glossy and perfect still from the red carpet event.

Unable to help herself, Caitlyn rubbed her cock against those perfect lips, dick twitching as she ruined the carefully applied lipstick, watching it smudge against the flared head of her cock to re-apply a layer of pearly white cum instead.

The blonde's tongue darted out, capturing as much cum as she could as she licked at the leaking head until a renewed heat simmering low in her belly rushed through her body. On the next lazy thrust, she tilted her head just enough to seize the blunt head inside her mouth.

"Oh fuck, darling!" Caitlyn grunted out, pushing herself past the ruby red lips until she hit the back of the blonde's throat, pulling back halfway out as the actress slightly gagged at her length. "Shit. I'm sorry." Caitlyn apologized, gently caressing the actress's cheek and inadvertently feeling the outline of her bulge on the other side.

Her cock twitched at the feeling and she felt pre-cum or maybe it was still cum from her last release, leak into the hot wet mouth. The actress immediately swallowed and leaned back to look Caitlyn square in the eye.

"Fuck. I don't care if I gag or choke on your big cock. Just use me!"

Blue eyes flashed with heat and desire, long fingers twisting to grasp a handful of blonde locks before she was thrusting deeply once more into the cavern of the actress's mouth. Her full, large balls slapped against the blonde's chin with every plunge. The moaning, the gurgling, the wet balls slapping against skin, the occasional gagging was down right indecent. And now, the rhythmic thumping of the headboard knocking against the wall joined the cacophony of sex noises that filled the room as Caitlyn's free hand clamped down tightly on the headboard.

Neither woman seemed to be currently aware of the ruckus they were causing but the next morning when the front receptionist was red in the face and unable to look them in the eye as they checked-out, only than did they realize just how fucking loud they were. A wave of embarrassment rushed over them as they politely bartered for the young woman's silence. It was easy enough, a couple photos, signed autographs and a promise to be more...considerate to other guests the next time they checked-in. The two couldn't leave the hotel fast enough.

"I'm close." Caitlyn growled out, her hips churning, taking the actress's claim to use her to heart.

Long, crescent, perfectly manicured fingernails dug into her ass, forcing the cock to seat deep within the blonde's mouth and Caitlyn unloaded once more with a roar, her dick twitching wildly as she shot wave after wave of cum down the actress's throat. It was so much that it began to leak out from the corner of the ruby lips, not to denounce the actress's gallant attempt to swallow every drop. Caitlyn withdrew, finishing off the last few spurts upon the blonde's face.

"Fuck." Caitlyn heaved, dropping to lie down next to the actress, who was pulling in air just as much as Caitlyn, if not more. "Jealousy looks good on you."

TBC

Previously:

She's a Lady Killer - Pt. 2

F1 Caitlyn Headcanon:

https://www.tumblr.com/stebeans/769238244811505664/arcane-f1au-my-headcanon?source=share

Caitlyn's F1 Interview :

https://www.tumblr.com/stebeans/770436973830848512/arcane-f1au?source=share

[endereies]

Introducing Mechanic!Chris

MECHANIC!CHRIS - 21, always covered in oil and grease, hard-working, independent, workaholic, private life, hates police, sociable, works alongside Matt, organized chaos, slight temper, soft to people he's really close to, headphones on constantly, reliable, acts of service, casual dominance, doesn't care what people think about pda, very 'matter of fact', assertive, protective.

Paired in the Ride or Die universe alongside Racer!Matt and Starter!Reader

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Dani x Jason Prompt

(Because i dont see enough of these two together. Also, this is another prompt i found in my fic files that i never did anything with.)

While Danny is in Amity Park protecting the ghost portal, Dani explores the world. Danny might be powerful enough to put down any threat, even Ancients, but she isn't as lucky. Her best defense against Vlad or the GIW is to never be in the same place two days in a row. Not to say she isn't powerful in her own right - she's yet to meet a ghost in her travels that she couldn't utterly crush, and even if she had, she's got the most loyal dog in both this world and the next to have her six.

Dani has discovered a great deal of beauty throughout the world in her few short years of life, but also unfathomable evil and undescribable corruption. She does what she can in every place she passes through, her ghost powers the ultimate cheat code for investigation and subterfuge, bringing to light the things that once hid in the dark.

But while scoping out yet another child trafficking ring, she crosses paths with a spirit of vengeance. At least, that's the only explanation she can come up with for how he's able to turn his shock and horror into pure rage at the flip of a dime.

Until she realizes that he's a baby halfa. If he doesn't learn how to mediate his emotions, he's going to burn out one of his halves.

Maybe she can help him stabilize into a proper spirit of justice and keep him from following the path that Vlad went down - oh shit, he doesn't even know that he's undead. Well, this is going to be a project and a half. But Dani is nothing if not resourceful - she's more than willing to put in the work if it means making an ally of the fourth known halfa.

Featuring:

Dani and jason are about the same age (16-17ish)

They run into each other during jason's LoA-sponsored world tour, investigating the same trafficking ring

Cujo is there too

Dani totally helps with the crime lord grand plan, but also wrestles jason down from the more messed up family drama stuff he did, like attacking tim, and knocks some sense into him and finds a better solution for dealing with the joker

[weird0rion]

Sometime ago I made an Au of Npmd x Ride the Cyclone

The nerds are in the choir of hatchetfield high, Grace being the one who form the choir so she could sing in the church in name of the. So in order not to be alone she made Peter, Richie and Ruth also part of the choir, and in turn Stephanie joined the choir at the request of her father so that, according to him, “Steph would do something productive”.

Max joins the chorus because he must protect Stephanie from those nerds, and also because that way he could spend time with Grace and she couldn't help it, he joins the choir when they go to give a performance at an amusement park.

The accident would happen anyway, Max doesn't remember who he takes the position of Jane Doe, but something I wanted to add is that the others do know who he is, if they know that John Doe in this case is Max, only that they are less afraid of Max being John than of normal Max, until they realize that even if Max will remember who he is, he does not have an image of himself but of the one that others have given him.

Also Webby would be Karnak and only have the power to save on member of the choir.

And here's are some sketches I made when I have the idea, if anyone is interested you could tell me 🦐✨

[beneathtreemomo]

Names Amongst the Dead

I got another commission from @sakura-rose12 of Kit!!! Beautiful boy and 3/4ths of his qpr (plus also his eventual boyfriend. No, I will never make a straightforward relationship. It's too fun to make them deep and meaningful, unable to be explained through words. Law is the last fourth if you were curious lol, he just didn't fit in with the theme) Have a one-shot to go with it :D -----

Kit's back hit the wall hard, causing him to stumble from the awkward angle as his and Alvarus’ legs found purchase on the steps.

Cold metal pressed against his skin; Kit froze, making the wise decision not to move.

"Oh?" Kit asked, fighting the urge to tilt his head. "I thought we'd gotten past you pulling a sword on me."

“Highness…” Alvarus breathed, a shaky awe to it that never really went away.

It made Kit huff as he smiled down at the ex-knight. “Hi, Alva.”

Brilliant sapphire eyes melted, Alvarus' sharp-edged smile turning into something softer. The distance between them was already small; Kit could feel Alvarus’ breath against his skin, knew that if Penguin or Shachi caught sight of them, he'd never hear the end of their teasing.

“Are you well?” Alvarus asked, without fail.

“Better than ever.” Kit replies, always.

A beat passed as Alvarus’ gaze studied Kit. He always made sure Kit wasn't lying to him, especially after the one time Kit had genuinely tried, and Kit could never find it in him to be mad about it.

He sighed as he determined there was nothing amiss; Kit chuckled as Alvarus seemed to collapse against him, knocking their foreheads together.

“Stop worrying me, please,” Alvarus mumbled, rubbing his nose against Kit's. His body was warm, a comforting blanket against the chill of the winter island's sea. “You’re one of few things I have left from our home. I don't think I could handle watching your vivre card try to burn a second time.”

“I’ll do my best,” Kit said after a moment, feeling the sword drop away as Alvarus sunk into the embrace. “But I can’t make any promises. You know that.”

Now that he could properly move again, Kit lifted a hand to tangle it in Alvarus’ hair, fingernails lightly scratching at the base of his neck. He returned the nuzzle, pressing his cheek against Alvarus' before pushing back his hat with a gentle hand.

Alvarus' eyes closed as he leaned into the touch with a soft sigh. “Why must all of you Lagthas be so difficult?”

Kit chuckled, pressing his lips to Alvarus’ temple. “Runs in the blood, I’m afraid.”

----

“Hey, Sabo, I—whoa!!”

As soon as Kit stepped foot into the room Sabo had chosen during their stay, a hand had wrapped around his wrist and yanked him inside.

The door was shut with a muted thud, though Kit barely managed to notice as he was slammed into the wall just next to it.

“You!”

For a moment, all Kit could see was Sabo’s jacket and the frills of his cravat. Then Sabo leaned down, caging Kit in, and his eyes were like fire.

Kit’s heart skipped a beat, unease settling low in his gut.  “…Me?”

“Were you ever going to tell us?” Sabo asked, voice low. “About who you really are?”

The unease turned into lead, sinking and pulling Kit down with it. “This is who I really am.”

“Liar,” He hissed, leaning in closer. Kit felt rather than saw Sabo’s hand moving, and with a jump he raised his hands between them to try and placate the fuming man. “I know that you’re a prince!”

Shit. He’d been afraid of that answer, even though he’d expected it. Kit really should start to know better.

“Well, sure, but—"

“Is this just a joke to you?” Sabo asked, hand pressing just enough into Kit’s side to keep him pinned. Something slipped in his voice, cracking and splintering with the confirmation his findings had been right; Kit hadn’t looked away from Sabo’s gaze at all, but only now could he see the grief and panic at the edges of his eyes.

Kit’s heart sank. “What? Sabo, no. Why would I be joking about any of this?”

“Because that’s what all nobles do in situations like this,” Sabo hissed, lips curling into a snarl. “Lie and trick us, just to hurt us behind our backs.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Then why didn’t you tell us?! If you hurt my brothers the way you hurt your people, Prince, I swear—”

Tears pricked Kit’s eyes at the low blow, heart hurting like he’d been stabbed. He shoved Sabo away and was, admittedly, a little shocked that Sabo let him. “What the fuck is your problem?!” He shouted. He knew it was too quick of a flip, but he'd thought Sabo of all people would understand, and instead he was being accused of wanting to hurt his friends.

Sabo merely stared at him, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Kit didn’t move away from the wall, but now it was his turn to snarl at Sabo. “Look in the goddamn mirror! You’re a nobleman from birth, too!”

“Watch what you say next.” The harshness in Sabo’s voice sent a shock of fear down Kit’s spine, but he didn’t stop.

“Oh, don’t be such a hypocrite.” Kit snapped back, standing tall even as Sabo’s glare sharpened back into something dangerous. “I’d already run by the time the kingdom fell; your research showed this, I know it did. Everyone knows Prince Rori disappeared three years prior."

He scoffed, feeling words he didn't want to admit spill from his mouth without his say. “What, would I be in your good graces if I had stayed to be Haesgard’s toy? Or gone back to be a lamb to the slaughter the second I caught wind of Valstasia’s fall? Forgive me for doing what my mother and Lavi sacrificed themselves for.”

He didn’t notice the way Sabo’s anger faltered as he spoke, eyes growing wide with dread as the implications of things not even the Revolutionaries would have found out slipped from Kit’s lips.

“I thought we were friends,” Kit continued, glaring at Sabo through watering eyes. “You said you trusted me because Ace and Luffy trusted me. Didn’t realize it was so easy to lose, too.”

Fed up with the conversation—annoyed because he’d actually been excited to see Sabo during this mission of his, only for it to turn into this mess of a shouting match—Kit shouldered his way past Sabo to the door.

“I’m not like those nobles you grew up hating. Don’t talk to me again until you figure that out.”

Sabo stared at the door, almost wishing Kit had slammed it shut. It would make it easier to dispel the anger still thrumming in his veins, maybe even get rid of the guilt that started settling in his chest.

That… wasn’t what he expected to happen.

Looking back, it should have been.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, fingers lingering on his scar. “Shit... I just messed up, didn't I?”

....He really should have known better.

---

Kit headed back to his room, a slight skip in his step. He’d managed to convince Law to lay down and nap, finally, and Cora had promised to keep him there until their captain could form coherent sentences again. Tang had surfaced for a while, as well, to let in some much needed fresh air and get the crew some sun.

Mostly, Kit was just glad they were headed away from Wano, and he could spend one more day not thinking about the situation looming over his shoulders.

Except, now he was thinking about it. Dammit.

His steps slowed. It… was okay to wait a few more days, right?

It was too nice a day to think about existential dread, and he didn’t want to worry Law when he woke. After that whole mess of an island, none of the crew needed to worry about him and his decades-old problem. It had waited this long—it could wait a little more.

But there had been that letter….

“Hey, Kit, what’s got you all broody?”

Kit startled, a tiny little yelp managing to leave his lips before he shut it down just as fast as he looked up.

Ace stood there across from him, hands in his pockets and an easy smile on his face. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Ace!” Kit breathed out a sigh of relief, leaning back against the wall. “Don’t startle me like that!”

“Sorry,” He said, completely unapologetic, “Being a ghost does that to someone, I’ve learned.”

Kit laughed, having to admit he had a point. “That’s fair. But your fire’s usually a lot louder than that, so I’m surprised you hid so well.”

“Hm.” Ace came closer, concern creasing his brow. “I don’t know about that, Kit. I think you’re just… distracted. You okay?”

No, but Kit’s pretty sure he hasn’t been for a while.

“It’s nothing,” He promised, tasting ash on his tongue. “Just thinking, is all.”

“Ahh, I see.” Ace nodded, humming thoughtfully a moment later. Kit raised a brow as he stepped into his space, resting an arm above Kit’s head. “Well, how about I help you stop thinking for a bit, hm?”

As he spoke, Ace brought a hand up to take Kit’s chin between his forefinger and thumb, stroking Kit’s bottom lip. Kit huffed a laugh at the action, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh? And how are you going to do that?”

“I’m sure you could come up with something, eh, Enchanter?” Ace all but purred, eyes locked onto Kit’s. It made Kit’s heart race, excitement thrumming to life in his veins as Ace leaned ever closer—

Only for Ace to yelp as he suddenly fell through both Kit and the wall.

Kit burst out laughing while Ace let out a dismayed cry, covering his smile with his hand as Ace righted himself. He turned back to Kit, all charm replaced by a sheepish smile and heavy flush down to his chest that had Kit’s heart turning to mush.

“Guess that didn’t really… go well, huh?”

“No,” Kit disagreed, still giggling as he lowered his hand. “No, I think it worked exactly how you wanted it to.”

Ace pouted as he readjusted his hat where it had fallen askew. “But I wanted a kiss.”

With a smile Kit walked past, flicking the string of his cap up to Ace’s nose as he did. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you back in your body eventually. I’ve got a lead.”

“Wait—really?!” Perking up much like an excited dog, Ace cheered and ran to give Kit a giant hug.

Only to fall flat on his face as he, once again, went right through. Kit’s laughter was heard all the way up to the sundeck.

[harbingersecho]

they had to pause their morning workout to drive wash to the ER at 7 am bc he somehow got hit by a car while getting mail. there's traffic. maine fiddles with the radio and carolina is imagining herself parkouring over the other cars