#into the drafts this goes

[seasidefae]

indulge me on an au idea based on a popular trope where one of them gets amnesia and forgets that they’re married.

but make it carcar

think fifteen years into the future. oscar is still in f1 while carlos has retired.

it’s been seven years since they got married, ten overall if you count the first time they kissed (carlos thinks that’s an anniversary worth celebrating. oscar doesn’t care; secretly he knows every anniversary they have, including every time they made contact on track)

they both had strong opinions about where they should live after the wedding, but in the end they decided on madrid. oscar likes the sun. carlos loves home.

the accident happened a few miles from their house in madrid. a car accident. carlos was on his way to the airport, a plane scheduled to take him to abu dhabi and watch his husband fight for his third WDC trophy. he never made it to the plane.

oscar found out before qualifying. he called his in-laws, made sure he was updated. he raced for his husband who was still unconscious in hospital and won. he flew straight to madrid, was informed that carlos woke up when he landed, and they said—“brace yourself, osc.”

“for what?”

they said it’s amnesia. they said he doesn’t remember the last sixteen years.

carlos doesn’t remember oscar, his husband who learned how to cook burgers and pancakes from him. his husband who taught himself how to cook local food from the elders in the neighborhood that adore carlos and his family. his husband whose family’s trust carlos had to gain through food and a helping hand.

carlos doesn’t remember oscar, the guy he proposed to in melbourne, in the piastri family home, on the bed oscar spent most of his time learning about cars instead of fairytales.

carlos doesn’t remember oscar, the guy he fell in love with for every deadpan joke he makes, for every celebratory dance he does whenever he wins at mario kart, for every gift he gives carlos that he insists wasn’t worth much, for every time he smiles.

carlos remembers oscar, the rookie who pisses him off with every move he makes against him.

oscar learned spanish and understood all the complaints carlos was making at the sight of him in his hospital room.

“i wouldn’t be surprised if i got into a crash with him and he did this to me,” carlos hissed, pointing an accusing finger at oscar.

he stayed calm as ever but of course it fucking hurt.

they left it up to carlos’ dad to explain the situation, with the help of the doctor. carlos is taking everything well—except the part about being with oscar.

“why would i marry him?” he keeps asking but refused to hear an answer from anybody, especially oscar.

and the entire fic is just oscar taking care of a unyielding carlos who still hates him. a fic centred around their feud that wasn’t really a feud, a seemingly one-sided relationship, and how carlos rediscovers why he loved oscar in the first place.

[dykes4mako]

Asami: omg I can’t believe I just hit you with my motorcycle! Are you alright?

Mako:

[iid-smile]

you've always been interested in how nanami was part danish. it was only a small percentage, but the genes were obviously strong, still standing two generations later. he wouldn't consider himself bilingual in the language, especially since he only knows a few words here and there. he can say hello, he can introduce himself, but that's about it. or that's what he lets on anyways.

his secret comes to light when you snuck up on him while he was moving furniture around the house.

you don't doubt his strength, and he's not all that clumsy to get hurt, but accidents can always happen. just a little bit of skin managed to get caught underneath a surface. you were close to approaching him, but at that moment, he had a small slip of the tongue.

"kraftedeme..." he mumbles under his breath. if there's one thing you know, what he said definitely wasn't anything nice.

you're not all that heartless to not check up on him before you investigate, looking at him with the most innocent expression you can pull off. "so... what does that mean?" this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. you've never heard him verbally swear, but for him to do it in a different language was even better.

usually, nanami knows when something's up, or when you're planning on teasing him, but this time he doesn't even know he's said anything out of the ordinary. "what does what mean?" he questions.

"cra- crafdeme... kraftdem..." you only had a barely audible sample to go off on, but it's already clear enough what you're trying to pronounce.

"don't say that, love." conflict runs over his features, clearly concerned over you picking up on his use of foul language. he's been way too confident in your lack of understanding. "you weren't supposed to hear that."

him avoiding your gaze was something he never did, unless it was under one condition. he's flustered. "why?" you try your best to stay within his line of sight, holding onto his hands so he can't escape or walk off anywhere. "just tell me what it means!"

he won't be able to leave until he tells you, and that's not going to happen for a long while. what a mess he's gotten himself into.

[hughmanbean]

Loving Threats

Inspired by a song and its remake. But I am trash at syncing lyrics to storybeats.

Danny and Jason met in the ghost zone when Jason was dead, but he forgot it all coming back to life. When the two of them were together, they went through the entire song and dance (literally) of asking each other out.

I'm serious. There were like 10 different musical scenes with varying themes. It was Fenton Romance at its finest. And Jason's old school romance heart was certainly played a large part too.

It was their love language. Dramatic acts, vague threats and all.

Post revival and reconnection with the Batfam, Jason spots a familiar face. A flood of memories wash through him, and with it a bout of giddiness. Though he's currently dressed as Red Hood, Danny'll be able to tell who he is and keep quiet. Just have to greet him in a way that he'll recognize.

---

Danny is out taking the kids for a walk. Dan was grumpy since he wasn't allowed any ecto chips, for both his health and as punishment for severely beating a guy who tried to mug Danny without permission yesterday. Ellie is quite cheerful, since she's going to visit the Crocodile and Zombie sewer-dudes when Danny's not looking.

All of a sudden, Red Hood, casually wielding a gun, approaches Danny. He makes an overly familiar gesture, wrapping an arm sideways around Danny's waist. He whistles under the hood, a faint green glow from the white eyespaces.

"Well who do we have here? You look half dead, honey."

Danny looked at him. Horrible pick up line? Check? Thin veneer of confidence? Check. Zero self control around Danny? Check.

Jason. The rancid ecto signature is new, though. Honestly, not surprised he's a crime lord now.

"Well, you know how it is. The kids have been running me ragged. And you sure haven't been any help."

Danny puts on an innocent smile. Jason sidles closer. A few bystanders watch them with varied expressions.

"Well you don't need to worry about that now. How about you and I go somewhere more private?"

---

"A crime boss, huh?"

Dan is raiding the fridge. Ellie is watching a fight on TV.

"It was a... necessary step. I promise I would've visited you sooner if I had known."

"It's fine. What else happened while you were gone?"

"Well..."

[angelsdean]

everyone you admire, idolize, put on a pedestal is just a person. everyone you hate, demonize, find irritating / annoying, is also just a person.

[i-like-forcefem]

Turns out all girls have a built-in override command!

Just pat her head, give her a collar, get real close to her face and say "Abandon your worries, put this on, and become my pet" and just watch as she puts her collar on!

Then just give a tug on her leash and take her home! You've just removed an overworked girl from the world, and added an obedient-love filled pet! Take good care of her!

[0bir]

"Soon, you'll learn your truth."

textureless under cut

[neorhythm]

*chanting* BOYS NIGHT!! BOYS NIGHT!!!

got the idea from this tweet.

i'll include the uncropped version under a read more. i spent way too much time on wallace's fluffy robe to not include it lol

[plutonicbees]

I do really just love gansey & ronan in their description as brothers. we talk about it was his smile that buried Ronan, but hardly ever alongside the fact that it was because gansey reminded him of matthew.

[belfry-ghost]

[phonification]

ive been thinking about taco and balloon forming a little alliance post s1/ pre s2 where they'd (begrudgingly) work together planning on how to break into hotel OJ to steal stuff to take back to their makeshift camp like food, blankets, pillows, etc,,, anything that could be useful to them

[abyssal-ilk]

wish we knew more about what vivienne was like as first enchanter of her circle. her insistence that the most dangerous thing to a mage is lack of knowledge is soo... cronching on it. i wonder how she handles the harrowings in her circle, since they traditionally rely on secrecy. especially given how badly her own harrowing rattled her and she was so young when she underwent it. many thoughts.

[taitavva]

target practice

[aroaceleovaldez]

i feel like many adhd/autistic people have very strong opinions about pants vs skirts/dresses (and vs shorts vs skirt-shorts) so here is My Oddly Specific PJO Headcanons About Their Legwear Opinions:

Percy - Shorts and short skirts kind of guy. Not a huge fan of fabric touching his legs. Type of guy to wear shorts in the middle of winter. Thinks skirt-shorts are neat. Will tolerate long pants if required but not long skirts (surprise fabric against his legs is Bad).

Annabeth - HATES skirts/dresses. Insert line from SoM about Percy not being able to imagine Annabeth caught dead in a dress here. The flowing fabric is a liability and she must be ready for combat at all hours.

Jason - Refused to wear pants until he was like 12. He was raised by wolves and then raised in New Rome; he did not wear pants as a child. Big fan of skirts/dresses but doesn't wear them as often as he'd like. BIG fan of togas/chitons. Pants are extremely hit-or-miss for him and he's very particular about it. Shorts are even more questionable.

Piper - Shorts or skirt-shorts mostly, though is fine with pants. Absolutely hates skirts/dresses do not even look at her with one she will destroy it with her mind. Loose fabric swooshing against legs bad. 100% DIY'd her own jorts though.

Leo - Least amount of loose fabric possible. too dangerous around machinery. Also he needs one billion pockets at all times or he will lose his mind. Shorts or pants only (though overalls are also very nice).

Frank - The only neutral party because he's (allegedly) neurotypical. He just doesn't have sensory problems so he doesn't care. Generally prefers pants though just cause otherwise his legs stick together like when it's hot out or chafe and that's not fun. Also has trouble finding good shorts. If those problems are solved though he's all for shorts/skirts/dresses/etc.

Hazel - Basic jeans or denim-type stuff or the frilliest skirt/dress you've ever seen with no in-between. If it's denim she will doodle on it though.

Nico - Pants only, maybe shorts, and maybe has like one or two exception skirts that he wears pants under anyways. Will tolerate togas/chitons with shorts. Generally dislikes skirts/dresses though mostly just because he grew up in the 1930s so he probably had to wear baby dresses and wearing skirts and dresses now mostly just makes him feel a little bit like a toddler. Also he doesn't like having his legs exposed. His legs will breathe through the rips in his jeans and that is all they need. Yes he is dying in the heat. Yes he has the stupidest tan lines ever don't look at him.

Reyna - Enemy of pants. She'll tolerate them but she won't be happy about it. Long skirts and maybe shorts only. If you can't fight in a long skirt/dress that's a skill issue.

Will - Shorts ONLY. Maybe a short skirt or short dress if he's having a good gender day but would not be caught dead in pants. He and Percy are standing in solidarity in their shorts in 10 degree (fahrenheit) weather shivering their legs off.

[jadewritesficshere]

Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.