#like this is what i call soulmates

[jemmo]

i cant tell you how much i ADORE this first episode of my beautiful man s2. there’s something about the pace of it, especially in hira and kiyoi’s interactions, the quick back and forth, hira saying something, kiyoi catching him out, hira backing down, kiyoi getting mad about that, hira stuttering to try and say the right thing. the way they interact is this seemingly endless cat and mouse going in circles around this big, huge centre thing that is ‘the point’. they both want to convey so much but neither can put the plain and simple words to it, hira is too much and kiyoi is too little. and yet they still have these moments, when they let the plain truth slip, hira saying you’re just too cute, or kiyoi earnestly asking hira not to leave him, it peels back at their true sentiment that’s always being danced around.

and the thing is, if you didnt watch the first season, this relationship could so easily be seen as bad bad really bad, the way they almost bicker and get mad, how kiyoi appears to pick at hira and gets mad so easily, how hira acts more like an avoid stalker than a boyfriend and always seems on edge or off in his head catastrophising. some people still might. i can see how it can be a difficult relationship to digest. its weird, awkward and uncomfortable at times, and almost absent of the usual softness of a bl couple. but thats why i adore it. because i think its so important and interesting to portray a different kind of relationship, even if maybe exaggerated to fit the king and servent original premise that hira still holds onto. bc the thing with these kinds of relationships is it doesnt matter what we think of it, whether we like it or think its ok, its about the people in it. some people are just different, they act differently, and interact differently, and thats ok if its ok for the people involved, and thats what i think the case is for hira and kiyoi. obviously they still have problems, this relationship isnt perfect, and i think this series is gonna show that, but thats also ok. just bc a relationship isnt perfect, doesnt mean it shouldnt exist. there has to be something there in the first place for it to be worked on. and there is. at the core of it all, these two people really really love and care about each other, they just express it differently, and maybe need to learn how to express it in a way that makes it easier and better for the other to feel it. maybe hira needs to let kiyoi off that pedastal, and maybe kiyoi needs to not view his feelings as this weird, gross thing. but that takes time, and i think is truly worth it.

and what makes it work and so thrilling and interesting to watch as a show is that kiyoi and hira somehow both encourage that detrimenal behaviour but are also so incredibly good for each other, and good at challenging that behaviour. hira wants to see kiyoi as a god and kiyoi wants to be loved, so he can be that godly figure. you can see it in this almost entitled way he acts, pushing hira around, even when he just sits down in the rocking chair, above hira, very mch the image of a king and his bowing servent. as someone that was starved of love as a child, he laps that up. but its when his feelings grow for hira that he realises he doesnt want to be some god or king, he just wants plain and simple, human, equal love. so he ends that scene lying on hira’s lap, lower than him, airing his insecurities of being abandoned and asking hira to stay with him, very much that lonely child wanting someone else’s love. not devotion, not sacrifice, just love. and its his feelings for hira that allow him to push hira in a good way, challenge him, bring him out of his shell, which he desperately needs. hira is so stuck in his head that he hasnt reared his head enough to learn how to act like an actual person. so used to blending into the background, he doesnt know how to be his own person and not an object or a piece of the furniture. you see it at the party, that he doesnt know enough small talk words to get through a conversation, let alone actually be himself and interact with others on an equal level. thats why he takes on this servent role, bc he’s never seen himself as enough of a person to be anything else. he can only be made real when characterised by his actions for others. kiyoi’s rejection of these roles means he can challenge hira to step up, to be on his level, and in that find himself. there’s hints, you can see it, in his love of phtography, when he talks about the moon, when he’s around others and even kiyoi and they have these softer moments where it feels like hes breathing and calm instead of stuttering and panting through an interaction and his brain is running a mile a minute. kiyoi has seen it too, and thats why he fell in love with him. ok, maybe he likes his eccentricities too, but he sees a person that he wants to be with, on equal terms, and in that he wants to pull hira up and see him be himself, realise himself as a person, just as much as he has to step down. and they dont explain these things plainly, voice that they want to help each other in this way, but you see it so clearly. its the subtext of this almost other language that they speak together thats full of twisted meanings and hidden intentions, at the heart of it is, like i said before, actual love and care for each other. do they need to get better at it? yes. but do they need to become our idea of a normal relationship to do that? no, absolutely not. after all, hira will always be hira, and kiyoi will always be kiyoi, and if they lost that, they’d lose themselves and their love for each other. so stay weird, stay unconventional, and stay yourselves, my beautiful couple. 

[imfinereallyy]

Dinner Date

For STWG daily drabble and, more importantly, for Goldie @steventhusiast. Happy Birthday, you deserve the world. I know you’re asleep right now, but it’s technically still your bday here. 

“Dingus, this is a really fancy restaurant.” Robin leans back in her chair, but her hand plays with the fork on her napkin. 

Steve sips his wine; some of it tips over the edge onto the tablecloth. “What? Can’t a guy take his best friend out to a fancy dinner?” He tilts his head and takes in his best friend. What was once an awkward teen now had a beautiful, but still awkward, woman in her place. 

“Steve, I love our friend dates, but usually they take place in a greasy diner or dollar pizza.” Robin picks the fork up and starts twirling it into her napkin. Steve watches her get mesmerized by the wrinkles that wrapped around the silverware, even though they both know the napkin should be in her lap by now. 

Steve smiles softly, moves his napkin from his lap to the table, and begins to mimic Robin. “Okay, maybe I wanted it to be a special occasion.”

Robin giggles at Steve's poor fork-twirling form and leans over the table to fix it for him. “All occasions are special when we are together, so that doesn’t really mean much.” Robin’s nose scrunches in concentration as she gently guides Steve’s hand. She has done this plenty of times before, guiding Steve where he needed to be. Like taking him to the bookstore near her college so he wouldn’t have to go into sex with Eddie blind, or when she taught him how to whisk eggs properly. Both are equally important skills he now uses in his everyday life. “But you seemed nervous. You keep sipping your wine, and I know for a fact that you hate dry wine.”

Steve puts down the glass that was halfway to his mouth, “It’s not my fault Moscato tastes like candy!”

Robin snorts, “Seriously, Dingus. It’s just me. What’s up?”

Steve puts down the fork and his glass and looks Robin in the eye. “I wanted to ask you to be my best man.”

Steve expects a lot of reactions out of her: excitement, an eye roll, hell, even straight-up rejection. Maybe a little speech about how weddings for them aren’t even legal. Instead, a look of betrayal crosses her face. “You asked Eddie to marry you, and you didn’t even tell me you were proposing?”

Immediately, Steve clenches his stomach in outrageous laughter, nearly having to bend over the table. Steve tries to take Robin seriously; he really does. But she is supposed to be the smart one out of the two of them. 

Rage takes over Robin completely as she reaches over the table to start slapping Steve’s arm. “Don’t laugh, you asshat! I am actually mad at you!”

“Ow—” Steve laughs. “Ow, Robin!” Another giggle escapes him as he gets her to sit back in her chair. “I’m laughing because, of course, I didn’t propose to Eddie without talking to you first.”

Robin settles a bit at this, “I’m confused.”

Steve reaches for her hand across the table; Robin doesn’t hesitate to wrap her fingers around his. “I’m asking you to be my Best Man first, doofus. Before I even pick out the damn ring. Which I definitely need you to steal one of Eddie’s rings for me so I can get the size; man watches those things like a hawk.” 

Robin squeezes his hand, “Wait, why would you ask me that first? Isn’t that kind of backwards.”

“I do everything kind of backwards, babe. Kinda the Steve Harrington special.” Steve rubs a thumb against the back of soulmate's hand. “Of course, I ask you about being my best man first. There would be no wedding without you, so if you say no, there would be no proposing.”

Steve could see tears beginning to fill Robin’s eyes, “What are you saying?”

“Whoever gets stuck with me gets stuck with you. We’re a package deal, babe.” 

Robin throws herself across the table, knocking the wine everywhere. Steve laughs and clenches her tightly. “Of course, I’ll be your best man! Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t hurt yourself going down the aisle.” She sobs.

Steve’s throat gets thick, “Pretty sure that’s the father's job, Robs. And you’d have to fight Jim for that role.”

“Fine.” Robin sniffs, leaning back to look him in the eye. “But I get stand by your side as you make a complete fool of yourself with your vows.” 

“Deal.”

Robin leans forward, placing her forehead against Steve’s. “You and me against the world, babe.”

Steve hugs her tight, “You and me against the world.”

[moonriverrise]

Dreams are supposed to be subtle messages from your subconscious, right? Then why the hell did Eddie keep having the same type of dream every single night. The same dream featuring the same boy with chestnut hair, doe eyes, and freckles sprinkled all over.

He didn’t know the boys name, but he’s around Eddie’s age based on looks. His hair is styled in a certain way, swooped to the side almost perfectly. He’s pretty strong looking and pale skinned, and has the most wonderful laugh Eddie has ever heard.

In the dreams that Eddie had, he meets this boy under a tree in a long sunflower field. He’s always there before Eddie, sitting with his back against the trunk of the tree, staring at the sky or simply laying with his eyes shut.

Whenever Eddie came up to him, he was greeted with the same phrase every time, no matter what differences are in the dreams.

“Hello, Sunshine. How are you?”

It's sweet, and it warmed Eddie’s heart in a way he never thought something could. Then Eddie would sit down and they would have conversations about their lives. Because, this boy had a life, probably something Eddie’s brain made up.

“Oh, and Dust thinks he’s so much better than me just because he’s good at Algebra. Who the fuck is good at Algebra?!”

The boy is entertaining, he’s funny, pretty, charismatic. One dream he has, turns a bit different after the greeting, which is said more solemnly. Soon afterwards, the boy asks Eddie something.

“Have you ever kissed a boy before?” He asked. Eddie has paused.

“What do you mean?”

“Uhm…do you ever think you might like boys the way you like girls?” And Eddie had to pause again, because, thats how he had felt. That’s the questions he thought about, the ones he had asked Uncle Wayne.

“All the time.” Eddie responded.

“Is it..normal?” Eddie looked over to the boy, who looks nervous, scared.

“Of course. You can like whoever you want. People who don't think that are stuck up pricks.” Eddie expressed. The boy had laughed, gently. Then laid his head against Eddie’s shoulder, and then shut his eyes.

“I have a friend, you know that one I mentioned, Robbie?” Eddie hummed. “She likes girls, only girls. I want to tell her about this, but I'm afraid. Even though I know she couldn't possibly be mean, I just don't want to be abandoned.” Eddie sighed.

“It’s okay. You just need to take your time with it, talk yourself through it.” Eddie advised.

“Sunshine?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” Eddie had paused, once again. He looked over at the boy, who looked up at him in response, through his lashes.

Eddie traced his face with his eyes, placed a gentle hand on his face, rubbed a thumb against the boys skin, who let his eyes blink closed. He leaned into Eddie’s touch, embraced him, his being.

Eddie leaned closer to the boys face. The wind whistled loudly, and birds sang in the background. Eddie let his other hand cup the boys face, and their lips met, slowly.

It was slow, but deep. Gentle, yet hungry. They parted and Eddie stared into the boys eyes, as tears settled in them. A brief flash of panic runs through Eddie’s blood…

The boy laughed, giggled like a birds song. He wiped his eyes and whispered into Eddie’s ear.

“Thank you, for all that you are.”

Eddie’s eyes had fluttered open that morning, and he felt comforted with a sense of kindness and the ghost of tender lips against his own.

Then, Eddie got up, and got dressed, ready to go to work at the cafe down the street from his apartment in Indianapolis.

Dustin walked up to him during his shift, he was wearing a hat from that summer camp he’d gone to a few years back.

“Hey Eddie,” He said.

“Hello, Henderson.” Eddie responded, giving him a look.

“Wow! Don't have to be hostile!” Dustin joked. “You know my buddy i've been meaning to introduce you to?”

“Your babysitter?” Eddie asked while pouring creamer into a cup of coffee.

“Yeah! Steve! He’s here, sitting next to me and Robin over there.” Eddie didn’t follow where he was pointing, instead decided to focus on throwing a portable cup onto the coffee then calling out the order number as he slid it across the counter.

“Alright, hold on dude. Gare! Can you take order for just a second! I'll be back in a minute!” Gareth groaned but begrudgingly walked over to the cash register. “Thank you, I promise to spare your next character in Hellfire.”

“You better, man.” Gareth responded as Eddie walked out to meet Dustin.

They both walked over to the table and Eddie froze entirely when he meets eyes with someone so familiar.

It's the boy from his dreams.

“Okay, Eddie this is Steve. Steve this is Eddie.” Eddie waved a hand in Dustin’s face to shut him up.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Steve. that was his name. He asked him that, and Eddie nodded slowly.

“I know you from somewhere too,” He responded. Steve’s eyes went a bit wide, and he stood, facing Eddie.

“Sunshine?” Eddie nodded, vigorously.

“Guys…” Eddie shunned Dustin with his hands again.

“Robbie is Robin- the gay friend?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded. “Dust…that’s Henderson?” He nodded again.

“What the hell?-” Robin spoke up. Steve shushed her.

“You look exactly how you did before.” Eddie said to him. Steve smiled.

“You look even brighter in person,”

[samdeancrimespree]

the wincest marriage parallels in roadkill are so. fucking blatant. like molly goes “the only time we fight like that is when we’re stuck in the car.” and sam goes “yeah, i know how that goes.” and dean kinda raises an eyebrow at him. and then she’s like “you know the last thing i said to him? i called him a jerk.” ??????!!??? ok writers we get it. sam is the wife. please shut up

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads

The Spider And Her Demons

YA Australian urban fantasy/horror

about a Malaysian-Chinese girl who’s half spider-demon, just trying to keep her head down and survive high school

when she accidentally kills and eats a man in front of the most popular girl at school, they strike up a strange friendship and she starts to learn more about herself and the supernatural world

aroacespec/sapphic ish

[starstriix]

Jock is so tragic in the canon context for me because its like.

Jo genuinely does like brick but she’s so overcome with her pride and competitiveness to confront her emotions and she already views herself as undesirable due to not conforming to the standards of women being feminine and “pretty”. She’s already expecting to get rejected and she doesn’t know how to deal with romantic feelings so she teases and antagonizes him instead.

Jo keeps people at a distance. Its evident in the show where she has moments of showing or hinting that she does genuinely care to some extent but immediately switches and covers it up with indifference. Jo also has shown desire to indulge in romance and be viewed as pretty (which she feels like she needs to be more feminine for which is sad but a whole other discussion).

And and Brick is so drawn to her because of her confident and dominating personality but it’s hard because she keeps everyone at a distance and seems to be 100% focused on winning all the time. And I don’t think he’d have much experience with romance either (Anne maria literally states that he’s not attractive in any way) and even though they clash a lot, he genuinely does like her. And both of them don’t know how to deal with it, let alone on a tv show where they’re trying to win a million dollars, so they’re stuck in this state of bantering and competing because that’s what they know.

And they’ll forever be stuck because they never got the chance to confront that since Brick never had a second go. Meaning that Jo never understood that Brick truly liked her for her, and Brick never got that Jo genuinely liked him as well but was too insecure or caught up in her own competitiveness to acknowledge it.

And that’s what really gets me, because it’s not just the pining, but how Jock is a representation of finding someone who really gets you and appreciates you for you who are, no matter how mean or embarrassing you can be. And the lack of them having a proper conclusion or fully understanding that hurts okay it HURTS I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT THEM

[bruciemilf]

What if Carmine’s relationship with the Wayne family like? I’ve always seen him as Bruce and TJ’s mysterious and shady uncle

Honest to God the funniest interpretation I have of him is Thomas’ bitter ex wife

[gatesofember]

I came up with an idea for a fic that I’m calling the six seeds au

Will is a dumbass and skips off to the underworld alone to bring Jason back for Nico. he can’t bring Jason back but he strikes a deal with Hades that will link his soul to Jason’s and partially bind him to the underworld, so Will spends six months of the year in the underworld while Jason is in the world of the living, then they switch for the next six months. so, similar to Persephone. or Dumuzid and Geshtinanna in Mesopotamian mythology. Will eats six pomegranate seeds to seal the deal, hence the name of the au.

now obviously this whole “I only get to see Will and Jason for half the year and never at the same time” thing wouldn’t be ideal for Nico and of course he’s upset with Will for doing something so reckless and sacrificial. but the real problem is that Will cannot survive in the underworld. it’s draining him more and more every day. there’s no way he’s even going to make it to the end of his first six months. and since his soul is now tied to Jason’s, this means that Jason is dying, too.

so Nico has to march up to his dad like “hey wtf” and Hades might regret not taking into consideration that Will’s a little Sun baby and can’t survive in the underworld and he might feel bad for doing this to his son so he might let slip that maybe a certain cure (one Nico may be familiar with) could break Will from the vow to stay in the underworld for half the year.

so now Jason and Nico have to go on a quest to get the physician’s cure. and Jason is dying because Will is dying. also maybe Will is sometimes in Jason’s head adding commentary through their soul bond because I think that would be funny.

and uhhh yeah that’s all I’ve got for now but idk I think this fic sounds fun so maybe I’ll come back to this

[singsweetmelodies]

Hello Katie 👋🏼👋🏼 :D

For the 50 romance prompts ask meme, I'll like to request for 44: soulmate AU: timers <3

but if possible... with a twist...? (you don't have to include a twist if it's too difficult to work it in!)

The twist being, for whatever reason, their countdown timers for each of them to the time they meet their soulmates doesn't match, so they think "we're not each other's soulmates. that's cool. (no it's not)" but it turns out that they're each other soulmates anyways. or they choose to be with each other in spite of not being each other's soulmates. idk. *nervous laughter*

hiiii charlotte 🥰 first off, i am SO sorry for the incredible delay with this answer!! i saw this prompt and i absolutely LOVED IT (and the twist!! 🙏 *chef's kiss*) but unfortunately i got struck with a horrible case of writer's block/work deadlines, and just couldn't get to it at all.

until yesterday: i decided to just open my inbox and see what came to me. no thinking, just following the vibe of a prompt and writing. and uh. this happened... not only did it get ridiculously long (oops?) but it also somehow became a mini "investigate montreal" fic?? so in that vein, i'm tagging @1016week and submitting a belated entry for Day 6 "Montreal"... ❤️

i love this one. hope you love it too!! 👀⌚

~

Charles' soulmate timer stops when he is seven years old, and he meets the boy with the bluest eyes he's ever seen.

He's been vibrating with excitement all weekend - not just because it's a karting cup, but because his soulmate timer has been ticking down to this day for months now. Well, not just months, not really. It's actually been his whole life, but Charles doesn't remember all of that. He only remembers the past few months, when the little numbers had been getting smaller and smaller, until there were only ten days left and Charles gasped when he realised that the day would fall on the same day as the Bridgestone Cup.

"Of course the girl I marry is going to like racing, too," he'd told Maman and Papa, confidingly. Not a lot about soulmates made much sense to him, but this did.

His Maman had tried to smile, and Charles had hugged her tight to let her know it was going to be okay. He would find his soulmate, and then everyone would be smiling, because that's what people do when you meet your soulmate.

(Later that night, when Charles had been too excited to sleep and he'd gone to the bathroom quickly, Charles had heard his parents having an argument in their room. The door was closed, so their voices were muffled, but Charles could still make out his Maman saying "I just don't think it's a good sign, to meet your soulmate so young!" But Papa had countered, "Many people do, and they have beautiful stories. You have to trust that our Charles will meet his perfect match tomorrow." And then there had been an icky noise, like kissing, and Charles had flushed the loo quickly and ran back to his room.)

Now, with the beautiful blue eyed boy standing in front of him, Charles thinks of Papa's words again. Our Charles will meet his perfect match tomorrow.

Charles thought it would be a girl who really liked karting, but this is even better. This is a boy who wins at karting, because he's holding a trophy in both hands and grinning like he couldn't be happier.

Of course Charles' perfect match would be someone who wins at karting. It's only right, because Charles also wins at karting.

Charles clears his throat. "Hi," he says shyly, and the blue-eyed boy jumps.

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," he says apologetically, and then he laughs. He has a nice laugh, Charles thinks - like he knows how to have fun. "You are a bit short," the blue-eyed boy adds, and hey.

"Hey," Charles protests. "I'm tall for my age. I'm seven."

"Well, I'm nine," the blue-eyed boy says, like that's the most impressive age in the world.

It is a bit impressive, but not very, because Lorenzo is much older than that. Still, it is a little scary - Charles is only seven. What if this blue-eyed boy doesn't like him because he's only seven? Older kids can be mean like that.

No, he is your perfect match, Charles reminds himself. This blue-eyed boy won't be mean to him, because that's not how perfect matches work.

Charles takes a deep breath, then he sticks out his hand. "I'm Charles," he says.

The blue-eyed boy takes his hand, and it feels... weird. A little bit like when you get shocked by static electricity.

Charles giggles, unable to stop himself, and the blue-eyed boy smiles, as though he likes that.

"Hello, Charles. I'm Pierre," he says, squeezing Charles' hand. His eyes widen a moment later. "Oh! You've met your soulmate?!"

Charles doesn't understand what he means. "Well, yeah," he says. "It's y-"

And then he notices it.

Pierre's soulmate timer, right there on his wrist, right above where Charles is gripping his hand - it's still ticking.

Now, Charles doesn't know a lot about soulmates yet, but he knows that that's not good. Not good at all.

"I, um," Charles stammers, and then he does the one thing Maman and Papa said you should never do to your soulmate. Charles lies.

"I met so many new people today. I don't remember who it was."

Pierre's face falls. "Oh," he says, and he sounds unbearably sad for Charles. "But..." He chews his lip, shaking his head with a deep frown.

Then, mid-shake, Pierre's expression changes to one of determination. "I will help you find them," he says, with the kind of confidence Charles can only dream of when he's not on the racetrack.

He tugs on Charles' hand - which he still hasn't let go of - and Charles is helpless to do anything but follow.

~

They don't find Charles' soulmate anywhere, of course, and then Charles has to go win his race - but Pierre makes him promise that they will find each other at the next French karting event, and Charles will tell him all about his soulmate.

Charles promises, even though the idea makes his stomach feel all funny. I shouldn't be lying to my soulmate, he thinks, guiltily.

But Pierre's soulmate timer didn't stop ticking, and... that's not how soulmates are supposed to work.

The moment he's in the car with his father after the race, heading back home, Charles asks him about it.

Papa is quiet for a long moment, then: "Are you sure there wasn't someone behind Pierre, Charles?" he asks, in his careful, kind way. "Someone who's timer stopped at the same time as yours?"

Charles thinks about it for a moment, but even the idea of that feels - wrong, somehow. Like going into a corner and knowing you braked too hard, and you're going to flip the kart.

He shakes his head decisively. "No," he says. "It's Pierre."

He hears rather than sees his father blow out a soft sigh. Charles catches his eye in the rearview mirror, feeling confused and a little shaky inside.

When Papa sighs like that, it's never good news - it's usually something about sponsorship, which is a word Charles is already coming to dread.

It doesn't make sense how this could be about sponsorship, though. It probably isn't.

Charles waits for his father to gather his thoughts, like he needs to do sometimes to make sure he says exactly what he means. (It's something Maman keeps telling him he should try doing as well, but he's not so good at that yet.)

"You know how even the greatest racing drivers make mistakes sometimes?" Papa asks.

Charles frowns, but he nods. "Yes?"

"Sometimes the universe is like that, too. Sometimes the universe makes a mistake, and stops the timers too soon," Papa explains.

Charles frowns. He hasn't heard about that before, but he guesses it makes sense. It's true what Papa said - not even Senna was a perfect driver who never made mistakes. It makes sense that the universe is the same.

"But this doesn't mean you don't have a soulmate, okay, Charles?" Papa says before Charles can spend too much time thinking about the whole thing. His voice is firmer than Charles was expecting, and he reaches up to tilt the rearview mirror to see Charles better.

"It doesn't mean you don't have a soulmate," he repeats, like he doesn't want Charles to ever doubt that. "It just means it's going to be a little harder to find them."

Charles frowns, and he can't help but be a little annoyed. Isn't the whole point of soulmate timers to make it easier to find your perfect match?

It's just his luck that his soulmate timer doesn't work properly.

"I understand," Charles says, though, because he can tell it's important to his father.

Papa nods, but he keeps watching Charles in the rearview mirror for the rest of the drive, like he sometimes does after a race where Charles crashed the kart badly and he needs to keep making sure that Charles is fine.

Of course Charles is fine. He doesn't think this is comparable to a bad race at all! It's a little annoying, yes, but it's not that bad. It's just a bit of extra work, isn't it?

Charles shrugs his shoulders, glancing quickly down at the stopped soulmate timer at his wrist.

Whatever. Racing is more important than soulmates, anyway.

~

Almost twenty years later, Charles still says that to himself almost every day, even if he doesn't believe it with nearly the same careless seven-year-old confidence anymore: racing is more important than soulmates.

It is, because it has to be.

The thing is this: his father's explanation to Charles' seven-year-old self had been true - if a little oversimplified, and painted with an overt layer of kindness.

The truth Charles knows now is that there are two reasons, two categories, for people whose timers stop when the other person's keeps running.

One is, like Papa had said all those years ago, a simple case of mistaken timing - cases where the universe or fate or whatever controls it all stopped one person's timer a little too soon, or the other's a little too late.

It's harder to find each other in those cases, but it's still quite possible.

And then there's the second category. The unrequiteds. People whose timers stopped at the right time - when they met the person who would be their perfect match - except that they are not that person's perfect match in return. It only goes one way.

It's rare, but it happens sometimes. No system is perfect, after all - not even a system of soulmates.

For years and years, Charles tried to convince himself that he fell into the first category. His soulmate timer simply stopped too early, by some cosmic accident - but it's okay, Charles insists to everyone who asks and to himself as well, because what it's done is given Charles more time to focus on his racing instead. He's not constantly glancing down at his wrist and wondering when his timer is going to stop ticking - he can just get on with the racing.

He'll find his soulmate eventually, but on his own terms. There's nothing bad about that, surely.

Charles believes that. Really he does.

Except.

Except, if it's true and Charles falls into the first category - the mistaken timing category - then it would mean Pierre isn't his soulmate.

Pierre, who kept the promise he'd made to a seven-year-old who wasn't even his soulmate (because, yes, he had found Charles at the very next French karting cup, and he'd asked to meet Charles' soulmate - and when Charles had to admit that he still hadn't found them, Pierre had hugged him and told him not to give up and that he would find his soulmate someday. Pierre had held Charles' hand and explained that his parents almost didn't find each other, but they did. So it might take Charles some time, but that was okay, because it had taken Pierre's parents some time too, but now they were happier than ever. He'd been so convincing, firm but kind and absolutely sure of himself, and he'd made Charles believe it. He also made Charles smile, genuinely and truly, when he promised he'd stick by Charles' side no matter what anyone else said or whispered about his stopped soulmate timer.)

Pierre, who kept that promise about sticking with Charles, too. Pierre who never stopped being kind, and loyal, and the best friend Charles could ask for, whether he was seven or thirteen or nineteen or twenty-six.

Honestly, how was Charles supposed to not fall hopelessly in love with him?

He tried to deny it. For years and years, Charles tried to deny it - I will find my soulmate someday and it will all make sense, he'd tried to convince himself - but the thing was, what made more sense than Pierre being his soulmate?

It was roundabout the time of Pierre's first win (when Charles was standing under the podium in Monza with an aching back but a heart soaring with joy for his best friend despite the disaster of his own race) that Charles resigned himself to the truth: Pierre is his soulmate.

He has to be. Isn't a soulmate meant to be your perfect match; the person who understands you better than anyone and makes you happier than any other person in the world?

There's nobody else who could make Charles as happy as Pierre does. Nobody, nobody. There's no point in even trying to deny it anymore.

Pierre is his soulmate. But he is not Pierre's.

And that's okay. It's okay.

It has to be.

~

It isn't okay, not really, but that's true of a lot of things in Charles' life, and he's learned how to deal with them. He can deal with this, too.

On the whole, Charles thinks he does a pretty good job of dealing with it. He gets to be Pierre's best friend, after all - isn't that just a different kind of soulmate? True, Charles might want more, but it isn't like he has nothing. He has Pierre, and he will have Pierre for the rest of their lives.

Not in the way he wants, but - at least he will have Pierre.

The one thing he tries never to think about is Pierre's actual soulmate. Because Pierre has one, he knows, and he will meet them at some point.

Charles doesn't know how the hell he's supposed to look at some soulmate of Pierre's, and smile at her, and not be hopelessly, heartbreakingly jealous.

(He will do it, though. He will learn to smile at Pierre's soulmate - for Pierre's sake. He'll do it for Pierre.)

But that's a bridge he will cross when they get there. He doesn't have to worry about it yet (or at least, that's what Charles keeps telling himself even as the months tick by, and he knows there aren't year figures left on Pierre's soulmate timer anymore. Just months now, and then... weeks.)

Charles isn't thinking about it. He's put it out of his mind completely - which is easy enough to do, thankfully, given everything that's been happening on-track this season.

That's probably why he accepts Pierre's invitation to dinner in Montreal without thinking twice about it. (Even if he had realised, though, Charles doesn't think he would have been able to say no, either. He would give Pierre everything, if he only asked.)

So they go to dinner in Montreal, and it's perfect, and wonderful, and laughter-filled, and all in all exactly what Charles needed to distract himself from the fact that he has yet another engine penalty, and the sinking feeling that the championship is beginning to slip out of his reach.

Pierre seems to realise it, because he's in even finer form than usual - teasing Charles and tickling his ribs playfully and making him laugh at every possible opportunity.

Even on the drive back to the hotel: they stop at a red light, and Pierre steals Charles' cap, and Charles is giggling and filming it while Pierre is giggling back, and he's pretty sure neither of them are thinking about it at all, until-

Until Pierre's face changes from laughter to something almost ashen. "Charles," he says, and for all the years Charles has known him, he's never once heard Pierre's voice like that. "My soulmate timer just stopped."

For a few seconds, the words don't even register in Charles' mind.

Then they do, and Charles can feel his heart drop. "What?" he breathes.

His hands shake, and he doesn't even register the fact that the light has gone green as he glances all around them, craning his neck to see if there's anyone behind the white Ferrari, or around to the side.

Just a few minutes ago, their car had been surrounded by fans on all sides, all jostling to try and get pictures of them. But now, somehow, they're all alone in the Montreal night.

(The irony of it all is not lost on him - is this how Pierre felt all those years ago, when he was trying to look for Charles' soulmate at a karting cup, but not finding anybody it could be?)

"Are you sure it stopped just now? And not earlier?" Charles asks, willing his voice not to shake.

"Yeah," Pierre whispers. He sounds... devastated.

"But," Charles says, and then he has to take a deep breath. "But there's no-one else here, Pierrot."

"I know," Pierre says, somehow even softer.

Charles' fingers clench reflexively around the steering wheel, and he's moving in blank autopilot as he puts the car into gear and starts driving forward again.

He doesn't even realise he's shaking his head until Pierre says softly, "Charles." There's something wounded about it.

Charles stops shaking his head and slams on the brakes instead, jerking the car into something he hopes is a parking space at the side of the road.

"I don't understand," he says, far more calmly than he feels. "You can't - I can't be your soulmate."

Okay, maybe he's not so calm after all. But he doesn't think... he doesn't think anyone would be calm, in this situation.

Pierre makes a sound that could almost be a laugh, except that it sounds too strangled. "Do you know," he says, "that I have spent half my life wondering if the soulmate system got something wrong in my case? Because if you're not my soulmate, then who is? Who could possibly..."

Pierre does laugh this time, shaking his head. "You know, I asked to go out with you tonight for a reason. I knew - I knew it would happen tonight, so I needed to..." He swallows. "I needed to see you, one last time. Before I wouldn't be allowed to love you anymore."

It jolts through Charles then, what Pierre is trying to say. "Pierre," he breathes, and now it's his turn to say his best friend's name in a way he doesn't think he's ever said it before.

But Pierre's not finished yet. "I thought I could have one last night with you," he says. "One last night, before I had to say goodbye to my feelings, and try to love someone else."

My feelings. Try to love someone else.

Charles Leclerc is a lot of things, but an idiot is not one of them. He knows what Pierre is saying. He's...

Pierre loves him too. All along, Pierre has loved him too.

Only, he never had the option of thinking we're soulmates, Charles realised, and his heart twists in his chest.

Because Charles, for all that he accepted his soulbond toward Pierre was unrequited - at least he'd had the option of them being soulmates. Yes, it was in a twisted way, but at least he'd had that.

Pierre didn't. And he still fell in love with Charles.

The thought hits him like a shell-shock, and it's enough that Charles can only sit there for a moment, staring blankly, as Pierre continues talking beside him.

"I meant for tonight to just be a quick dinner together, something fun but normal for us," Pierre is saying, wringing his hands. "But I lost track of time. I always lose time when I'm talking to you, Charlito, I could talk to you forever - but the point is, I forgot to tell you I need to go back. I forgot that I was meant to meet my fucking soulmate tonight, because I was spending time with you, and - "

He takes a deep breath, and then he laughs again, leaning forward to drop his head into his hands. "I felt it happen, you know? I knew exactly when my soulmate timer stopped, because I could feel it, and it's - it was when I put that fucking cap on my head, Charles."

The cap that he's still wearing. Charles' 16 Ferrari cap.

Charles' hands shake as he reaches out to touch it, just the brim. "Your soulmate timer stopped when you put my cap on," he says, because a part of him still can't believe that this is real, that he's not living in some kind of heartbreakingly wonderful dream.

Pierre straightens up so fast that Charles is left with his fingers dangling awkwardly in mid-air. "Yes," he says, suddenly looking wild, "but this doesn't have to change anything, Charlito, I promise. I will still help you find your soulmate, and I will - I'll learn how to live with an unrequited bond, it's -"

"No!" Charles interrupts, half-throwing himself across the car to catch hold of Pierre's hands. "No, no, no, no. No more unrequited bonds, Pierrot."

Pierre starts to shake his head, but then he stops in the middle of the movement. "What do you mean," he asks, very carefully, "no more?"

And suddenly, Charles feels giddy, of all things. "I mean, your timer didn't stop when mine did. So for years, I have thought that we can't be soulmates, or at least that you couldn't be my soulmate. But now your timer stopped when you put on my cap, so -"

"Stop, stop, stop," Pierre says, squeezing Charles' hands tightly. "What do you mean, my timer didn't stop when yours did?"

"Oh," Charles says, and then he winces, the weight of the only real lie he's ever told his best friend (the only real lie he's ever told his soulmate) settling onto his shoulders with uncomfortable heaviness. "Um. Well. Do you remember when we met, and you thought I already met my soulmate?"

"No," Pierre breathes, but it's not the kind of no that says "no I don't remember." This no is more like "no way."

"Yeah," Charles says, and he can't help but look down at his own wrist, where the soulmate timer has been stopped for years and years. "My timer stopped the moment I met you, Pierrot."

"You..."

Pierre doesn't look like he knows how to finish that sentence, but Charles understands him anyway. "How was I supposed to tell you? I was seven, Pierre, and your timer didn't stop. I thought it was a mistake for years."

"But?" Pierre asks, like he can tell there was a but.

Charles beams at him. "But, I realised that there was nobody else who could be my perfect match. So I thought you were my soulmate after all, but it was unrequited."

"Never," Pierre says with a fierceness Charles doesn't expect. "Charles, never. If I knew... if I thought I had even half a chance, I would have been with you anyway."

Charles tries to laugh, but it comes out all breathless. "No you wouldn't."

"Yes, I would," Pierre argues, and his voice is heartbreakingly sincere. "I don't care. I would have chosen you."

Charles hears a punched-out noise, and it takes him a moment to realise it came from him. The next moment, he's unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing awkwardly over to sit on Pierre's lap.

It's not quite comfortable, because for all its luxury, the white Ferrari does not have a lot of leg space - but Charles doesn't think either of them give a single fuck, in this moment.

"I love you," he tells Pierre, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I've always loved you, but I never would have stood between you and your soulmate."

"Funny," Pierre says, his hands coming up to grip Charles' hips, "because that's exactly what stopped me from kissing you senseless."

"Well," Charles says, and if he grinds down just a little on Pierre's lap, he'll swear to everyone who asks that it was accidental. "It doesn't have to stop us anymore."

"Never again," Pierre agrees, tightening his grip on Charles' hips. "Never."

"So kiss me senseless, please," Charles whispers, and then he adds "soulmate," and that's what does it. Pierre surges up and kisses him, wild and desperate and more than a little clumsy, but without question the best kiss Charles has ever had. His own cap digs into his forehead a little, but Charles can't even bring himself to care about that - they owe too much to this cap now, honestly.

Maybe the universe does know what it's doing after all, Charles thinks. Maybe the universe just wanted to write a good story for them. A story that goes like this:

Charles' soulmate timer stopped when he was seven years old, and he met the boy with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

Almost twenty years later, Pierre's soulmate timer stopped in a white Ferrari in Montreal, and Charles finally got to kiss the boy with the bluest eyes he's ever seen, the man who is his best friend and his soulmate.

The odds of it working out this way have to be... a million to one, probably, or maybe even less.

But then again, what are the odds that two boys who met at a French karting cup and became friends with a shared dream would both make it to Formula 1?

Maybe the answer is just that Pierre and Charles have always liked beating the odds.

~

(50 Romance Prompts Ask Meme) <- not currently taking more prompts, sorry!

[bitterseaproduction]

Me: *sits up straight in sickbed out of nowhere*

Me: That ‘akeshu bond as children but they don’t recognize each other in P5’ idea, but it works because, as detective prince and criminal transfer, they’re both using pseudonyms. 😳

Housemate: ???

[pendragonsclotpole]

for some reason i’m getting a ton of those “ao3 should/should not be an app” posts in my feed and i just need to say, you guys are fighting the wrong battle

what we need is the ability to assign or +1 certain tags to emphasize when a fic is giving us what we want. like some of you have never spent three fucking weeks searching for the perfect soulmate au on a search of the general “soulmates” tag, only to find it in the shape of some three chapter, 50k fanfic with 100 kudos and only three tags to its name but none of them even vaguely related to the word “soulmates” and it shows

[femmeroi]

My stinky guys

[feroluce]

On character death: Coming to Hisui went very, very wrong. Ingo comes across Emmet's body and. He can't place a name, who this person was to him (is it even the same man from his faint memories? why would that person be in hisui?), but, looking at this stranger(?), he still feels himself fucking s h a t t e r

SO I HAVE. SOME THOUGHTS.

It happens in the coastlands. Palina and Iscan are just kinda sitting around at the top of the cliffs, up by the previous Lord's grave, and suddenly Palina looks horrified. Iscan finally manages to see what she's pointing at and shit, shit, that doesn't look like just debris floating out on the ocean. Iscan goes diving off the cliff, blowing into his Celestica Flute on the way down, Basculegion catching him right before he hits the water, and they get out there at top speed, but. Yeah. It's already too late. It was already too late well before they'd spotted him.

Iscan brings the body back with him, of course. He figures he'll have to ask the Ginkgo Guild if one of their merchant ships have lost any crew, even if this doesn't look like their usual blue and yellow uniform. Except.

As soon as she gets down to the shore with him, Palina looks stricken, and it takes Iscan a few minutes just to calm her down and get the words out of her. He knows she still has a lot of trauma related to drowning after the previous Lord of the Isles, but he can tell there's something different this time, something's off. Palina never cries in front of anyone but him, but even then, this is way way worse than usual. And it's not until he picks out a name between all her hiccupping little sobs that Iscan realizes oh, no, Palina knew this person.

He'd never really met Warden Ingo, but he's seen him from afar, and now that he looks, yeah, this body definitely seems to be him.

Even if his coat does seem to be a different color than usual.

So Iscan carries Palina home, sends out a message via Starly, and waits.

((Irida, looking up from a letter in her hands: Warden Ingo, apparently you've been found dead in the coastlands.

Ingo: Ah, alright, My Lady.

Irida: ...

Ingo: .....

Irida: .......

Ingo: .........No, wait, what???))

The next day, Irida shows up...with Ingo in tow?! Iscan says something about ghosts and nearly faints haha. Palina is so relieved she nearly faints, too. She's still upset that someone drowned, but. She's at least glad it wasn't Ingo.

Irida doesn't look as relieved. And neither does Ingo, to a much greater extent.

Irida keeps glancing at him, hovering near him, fidgeting with the bangles around her wrists, and it's been so long since Palina has seen her act this way that she almost can't place the behavior.

Irida is nervous.

She shouldn't have any reason to be nervous. If the body isn't Ingo, then it's not anyone else in the clan either. It shouldn't be anyone they would be upset over. But as they make their way through the rest of the coastlands, the air starts to feel thicker, darker, more oppressive, Palina has to all but hold onto Iscan to keep herself from running ahead just to escape it and get it over with, because it feels like waiting for the other shoe to drop, like the suspense of waiting for the blade of a guillotine to come down.

Iscan leads them to where he'd safely placed the body, but before closing that last bit of distance, Irida suddenly grabs Ingo's hand. His eyes are locked dead ahead; Ingo isn't looking at her. Irida isn't looking anywhere but him.

"That's- I can- Do you want me to look? You don't have to."

"No thank you, My Lady. I need to see for myself."

And still she hesitates, but Irida drops his hand. She lets him go, stands there with her fists clenched around nothing but their emptiness.

Ingo finally gets a good look at the body, at the man dragged under and brought in by the tides, at his face, the white of his hat and his coat, his upturned mouth, something tugs at his insides, pulls loose, the knot he'd been working to tease apart for so long, for years, it's vanished into thin air, the thread let loose, nothing to hold it steady, nothing to keep it anchored and taut anymore, part of him is gone now, just suddenly gone, and that absence aches-

Ingo's knees hit the ground first. Then his palms. Then his elbows, and finally his forehead.

All sound seems to disappear, the world is as quiet as a wake. Ingo tries to remember how to breathe.

His vision fades out, then back in, then out and then back in again. He doesn't remember sitting up. It seems like it should have been impossible for him to do, with how unbearably heavy his body feels. Palina and Iscan are gone. His aching hands are covered in grit from clenching his fists. When he hears sniffling, it seems to come to him from the bottom of a deep, dark well.

"It is him, isn't it." Irida's hands are clutched in his coat.

"It...it is." Ingo has no idea who he is, but he would know him from anywhere. He can feel it in his leftover half of a soul, in his ripped red thread.

Ingo sits there, on his knees, in the dirt. He doesn't know for how long. He doesn't move. The sun starts to set. He doesn't move. The man's coat all but glows white under the silvery moonlight. He doesn't move. Irida's head lolls. She's been sitting flush against his back the entire time. Ingo moves, if only to find his voice.

He asks if he can have some time alone. Because Irida doesn't need to be out there in the elements with him, she hasn't even eaten this whole time. Irida tells him he can, of course he can, he can have whatever he needs. But not just yet.

Not until Ingo stops looking like he'll walk right out into the ocean to join him.

Gaeric shows up the next morning with a sheet big enough to wrap a body and a cart to bring the man in white back with them, surprising Ingo. Usually people that don't belong to a clan or settlement are simply burned and then the ashes buried where they're found. Hisui is no stranger to shallow, hastily dug graves.

Irida declares that the man in white is to be given all the same burial rites as any Warden's spouse. Ingo is one of hers now, and that extends to his family, too. She had always planned to take in anyone who showed up looking for Ingo, she just...hadn't wanted it to be like this...

Ingo nearly cries again right then and there.

Iscan helps Gaeric with the cart and pats his shoulder when they go to leave. Palina promises she'll be there for the rites and hugs him goodbye so tightly that Ingo wonders if she's trying to squeeze all his broken pieces back together into one jagged, misshapen form.

They set off, and at first Ingo walks alongside Gaeric and Irida. And then alongside the cart's front wheels. And then its back wheels. And then almost behind it. Gaeric keeps pulling it forward as he tells Ingo that he can sit on the back of the cart if he's tired. If he wants to. He's strong, he can pull them both the whole way.

There's no verbal answer, but the cart dips under its new additional weight, two bodies laid side-by-side.

Irida takes up one side of the handles so that she can squeeze in next to Gaeric. She hangs her head and grits her teeth, fits her smaller hand into his. He lets her, grips back just as tight.

And neither of them says a single word of protest the entire way back to the alabaster icelands, as Ingo quietly breaks down behind them.

(Technically, everything goes back to the same afterwards. Technically, Ingo's life is the same as it's ever been; nothing has changed. The man in white had never lived with him here. Ingo still doesn't even know who he is. Technically, he should be fine.

Ingo gets up. Takes balms to Sneasler and her kits. Eats breakfast. Scares off any predators. Clears the arena. Fishes in the river. Eats dinner with Melli. Reads the book Calaba lent him. Goes to bed.

Ingo gets up. Walks to Jubilife. Eats breakfast. Puts the aspiring trainers through their paces. Makes small talk with Zisu. Coordinates matches. Eats dinner with Akari. Goes home. Goes to bed.

Ingo gets up. Delivers balms. Protects the territory. Eats the food Melli brings him. Goes to bed.

Ingo gets up. Drags himself to Jubilife. Battles. Picks at the food Akari treats him to. Goes home. Goes to bed.

Ingo gets up. Does his work. Goes to bed.

Ingo gets up. Does his work. Goes to bed.)

((When Ingo passes of illness some amount of time later, he isn't found at the main settlement, or at the training grounds in Jubilife, or even at his own home in the highlands. Instead, he's found huddled against a nameless grave, protected from the elements by a white coat, matching white cap still clutched in his hands.))

[somber-soup-drinker]

Ok but why is no one talking about BigB and Ren in session 6???

[citriarchive]

you ever just see one (1) post about how characters in AUs will likely be ooc by way of how their backstory is affected by the change in universe and proceed to wonder what the effect of a world where there is an expectation that once you're drawn to your soulmate you Will fall in love with would have on a character whose defining arc is trying to find some semblance of self-worth (<- frothing at the mouth)

i'm gonna put this under a cut bc it's like. mildly heavy character stuff to do with self-worth. not too bad but just in case.

like you'd think it'd be good for him, right. because ny way of having a soulmate he is inherently worthy of being loved by at least one person. but then you remember that he has this Feeling of just. Being Bad. this inherent shame attached to...Being™ thanks to The Horrors. and he has to exist to someone. which raises two problems:

being perceived at all and

(more importantly) the question of even if he does meet his soulmate, even if they do fall in love, is that their soulmate choosing to love him with his flaws? or is it them forcing themselves to resist being poisoned by this nonexistent (but very existent to him) Bad that resides in him? putting up with him? just barely tolerating his existence?

like i genuinely think he might've been excited to have a soulmate when he was younger. and then he got older and things happened and he realized how much inherent terror there is in the concept of being bound to someone who could see him the same way he sees himself.

and i think that makes The Choice to Love™ really important to him. or even more so, the choice to BE loved. the choice to trust nithral's decision, because he trusts nithral. the choice to just. let go and let someone care about him and realize that it's not causing some kind of irreparable damage. in fact, quite the opposite, it seems!

honestly without the context of soulmate AU this sounds like an analysis of their canon relationship and i find that very funny but anyway yeah i'm uhhh EXTREMELY grrrawrawrawr rn. scuttling along my walls screaming at the top of my lungs like a Creature. thank you for listening to my TED talk