#id rather meticulously study them boys

[ravenbrenna09]

masterpiece

Title: masterpiece

Square Filled: Soulmates AU

Ship: Robbe IJzermans/Sander Driesen

Trigger Warnings: None applied

Created for @skamevents

So, Soulmate AUs are my absolute favorite trope of any AU ever and I love reading all of them. I love the names on the arms, having the same symbol, I love seeing color only if your soulmate is nearby, but one of my favorites is being connected by their skin. And, with Sander as an artist in canon, I absolutely HAD to use this one. Soulmate AUs absolutely FASCINATE me and so I had to do this one.

Now, because this fic ended up being WAY MORE than what I wanted it to be, it physically will not fit in this text box, so I will be putting the first scene of the fic into this with a read more link at the bottom (note: this is the same scene as my masterpiece snippet that I posted a few days ago). So, I hope you enjoy the rest of this chapter. 

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Read on AO3

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Thursday was not Robbe’s day. 

Thursday was, by far, Robbe’s longest and physically draining day. While his first class of the day didn’t start until a little before 12:00, his day wouldn’t end until about 23:00 which was when the library closed down. To add to his torture of a long day, thanks to extending his own shift so Amber could be picked up by her mother on her way home from work, his classes on Thursdays were particularly draining, filled with dry teachers that talked to the board and ignored any and all questions. 

Letting out a sigh, Robbe turned to his introductory essay which was pulled up in another tab of the computer in front of him. The head of the department didn’t care about them working on homework, as long as their other jobs were done first, and Robbe had already put up the remaining books in the library, straightened up the desks where the student workers sat, and filed away a stack or two of files for one of his superiors. 

Now, that all of his librarian work was done, at least until someone returned a book to the circulation counter and he would go off in search of its rightful spot, Robbe could focus on this essay, or a story, that his writing teacher had assigned as an “introduction” to their mindset as writers. And, the topic that had been chosen by his other 25 classmates was soulmates. 

He let out a breath of air, burying his face in his hands.

Robbe hated soulmates. 

Or, rather, he hated the idea of soulmates. 

As a kid, Robbe would sit and watch his mother doodle on her skin with her favorite pen, watch the curve of her letters, her small doodles of flowers, appear on the exact same spot on his father’s hand. His parents would smile at each other, love in their eyes, and tease each other when the other got a stain on their hand because it affected both of them. 

To little six-year-old Robbe, soulmates were everything that he had to offer and he thought that he didn’t have one because doodles never appeared on his skin. His mother had giggled at him, informing him that his soulmate’s doodles wouldn’t appear until after he reached puberty. Little Robbe had been confused as to why he had to wait, he now knew that the changing hormones and chemicals in the body at puberty that caused the connection to show fully, but no one, not even people researching and studying soulmates, could pinpoint how soulmates are chosen or when. 

To present-day, eighteen-year-old Robbe, soulmates were crap. 

His parents had been soulmates, had fallen in love, and got married, having Robbe shortly after. For the first eight years of Robbe’s life, his parents had been happily in love with one another. His father loved being home, loved cuddling his wife on the couch, to the point that Robbe would call them disgusting and throw a pillow at them and they would laugh. Then, his parents started fighting about little things, small minuscule details that shouldn’t matter. As the years went on, the fights got worse, louder and louder until Robbe couldn’t sleep at night anymore, sneaking out of his house and going to his best friend’s house to crash. Then, his father left them alone, found another woman who made him happier, and his mother spiraled, leaving Robbe caught in between, trying to help her.

His parents were soulmates and they had fallen out of love. 

If the one person that you were destined to be with was supposed to leave you anyways, what was the point of having the ability to connect with them on a physical level?

Letting out a sigh, Robbe reached out, typing angrily. Soulmates are fucking stupid.

“Woah there,” Zoë teased, walking up with a cup of coffee in her hand. 

Zoë was a barista and one of Robbe’s roommates. At the beginning of the year, Robbe had moved into the three-bedroom flatshare with her and a senior, Milan, because Robbe was not going to live with his dad, not after what he did to his mom, not with him and his new girlfriend. It was a minor miracle that the two of them had been so willing and that his father had been so understanding. His father wanted him to live in the dorms, but it was too expensive for Robbe. He was barely surviving month-to-month as it was and living in the dorms would be almost double the cost. 

“What’s wrong?” Zoë questioned. 

“What isn’t wrong?” Robbe questioned. “Of all the topics my writing class had to pick for our introductory assignment, they picked soulmates.” Zoë scrunched up her nose, understanding. “And, I can’t think of anything to write other than soulmates are fucking stupid.” As if she didn’t believe him, he turned the screen towards her and she stood on her toes to look, letting out a light breath through her nose. He let out a sigh, straightening the computer back. “Think that will get me full points?”

“I doubt it.” Zoë laughed. “Here, it’s from Chloë.”

“Again?” Robbe questioned. Chloë was a barista at the café, who had a crush on Robbe so obvious that even he could see it, which was saying something. When it came to realizing people having feelings for him, he didn’t have the best track record. Despite the fact that Robbe had several relationships, almost all of them had been as a result of the other person making the first move. “How many times have you told her that she’s not my type?” 

“Robbe,” Zoë laughed, reaching out to pat his head with a tone that says many times. “I think the only way she’s going to be convinced that you aren’t interested in her is if she finds you making out with a guy. Not that I can blame her. You are a cute boy. Whether you want to admit it or not.” Robbe rolled his eyes before spotting the purple writing on the back of her hand. Zoë caught his gaze and scoffed. “My soulmate’s latest ‘conquest’,” she remarked, pivoting the hand towards Robbe so he could see. 

Had a good time tonight was followed by a phone number, only the final digit was smudged. 

Robbe knew that he had a soulmate, of course, but his soulmate wasn’t the type of person who slept around a lot, or if they did, they didn’t have girls writing numbers on the back of their hand in hopes of a second round. 

On his sixteenth birthday, his best friend, Jens, had jokingly drawn a poor excuse of a birthday cake and sixteen candles on the back of his right hand (and Robbe will never admit to anyone how disappointed he was that it didn’t show up on Jens’ hand). Within an hour, as he sat in his biology class, his soulmate, whoever they were, had drawn an arrow to it and wrote awful, zero stars on booking.com before proceeding to draw a perfectly drawn cake, in pen, with the exact number on the candles, on the back of his left hand. The drawing looked perfect, meticulous, and every year, on that same day, another cake would appear on his hand with an additional candle.

Robbe had a soulmate. 

Even if he didn’t want one. 

Zoë let out a heavy sigh, pulling him back into the world of the present. “Every morning I wake up with a new number on my hand is another morning I question if you have the right idea,” she admitted, staring at her hand. “Soulmates are crap. I’m always half-tempted to call the number, tell her that he’s just going to find someone else, but what’s the point, right? Plus, it’s missing a digit.” 

“Save a woman from getting her hopes up, probably. But, don’t worry,” Robbe remarked. “I’m sure he’ll get his head out of his ass soon.” 

“Excuse me,” a voice remarked, over Zoë’s shoulder. 

The two of them pivoted to find that a blond-haired man was standing behind them. The man was stunning, absolutely breathtaking as though he had been carved from stone. There was a black-beanie resting lightly on his head, covering the strands of white-blonde hair that poked out from the edge, and he had a pair of bright green eyes that were slightly hidden by the black-framed glasses on his nose. He was dressed in a pair of denim jeans, black converse, and a t-shirt with an artist that he didn’t recognize beneath his black hoodie. 

Robbe felt his breath catch in his throat. 

Looking like that in a hoodie, glasses, and a beanie was ridiculously unfair.

Especially to Robbe. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” he continued, pushing up his green bag further up his shoulder. “But, I need to check out this book for my art history class.” 

“Of course,” Robbe replied, his voice cracking a little. There was a knowing look on Zoë’s face, a familiar eyebrow raised that she generally reserved only for Milan, as she shuffled to the side, taking the coffee with her. The man stepped forward, placing the book on the edge of the counter, and Robbe took the book from him, eager to make sure their hands didn’t touch. “Sorry about that. Do you have your id?”

“Yeah, it’s in here somewhere,” the man replied, digging his wallet out of his bag. He found it, handing it over to Robbe, their fingers brushing ever so slightly, almost like it was on purpose. Robbe felt a jolt shoot up his hand as he took the id in his hands, switching to the electronic check-out system, typing in his student id number and scanning the book. A name popped up. Sander Driesen.

Once Robbe had deactivated the electric security in the spine, he placed his id on top of the cover and slid it across the counter, “Here you go.” Robbe kept his hand on the other side of the book, making sure to pull his own hand away before Sander reached out to grab it. He took the book from the counter, grabbing his id and slipping it into his pocket. “It’ll be due on the 17th of next month.”

Sander sent him a grin, a slightly confident, slightly wicked grin, like he somehow managed to know the effect that he was having on Robbe and his already jumbled mind, almost as much as Zoë did. “Thank you, Robbe,” he remarked. At Robbe’s confused, puzzled look, Sander’s eyes dropped down to his chest and Robbe looked finding his nametag, wanting to slap his forehead. He glanced towards Zoë, who was still hanging off to the side with her chin against her palm, and Robbe thought he saw his eyes flicker down to her hand, recognition in his eyes, but then, Sander was smiling at her and saying to her, all confident and charming, “Sorry about interrupting your conversation.” 

“It’s completely okay,” Zoë replied. “I was about to leave anyway.”

Sander moved off, grinning at her, and Zoë handed Robbe his coffee, a knowing glint in her eye as she boosted herself up over the counter to press a kiss against his cheek. He shoved her away, wiping away the residue of her signature red lipstick, and Zoë ran out the door, giggling all the way and promising to save him some leftovers from dinner. Robbe let out a sigh, trying to return to his essay on stupid soulmates, but found his eyes looking for Sander, who had disappeared.

Read The Rest on AO3

[darkenedrosepetals]

Worth

Chapter Two

Ezekiel was accustomed to the turbulence that came with the first day of summer camp. It was why he insisted on the meticulous preparation to keep things running as smooth and painless as possible. It was not to say problems were completely avoided, as there was always a problem that needed his immediate attention.

 Such was the case now at the front desk with an overly concerned parent who was re-enrolling her son. Unfortunately, last year the dear boy by whose name was Theo, had an allergic reaction at lunch. The mother declared it was the result of poor practices in the kitchen and demanded that whomever was in charge be fired and replaced.

Ezekiel was certain poor practice was not the cause. He was certain that his kitchen staff followed the rules and made sure not to cross contaminate any of the foods and to properly inform the children of the food choices. Although, he knew it was not uncommon that things happened such as the kids sharing their food from their own home prepared lunches.

So, to say, he handled the situation as careful as possible. He kept his composure, but he was inwardly glad that interaction was over. He couldn’t afford to be rattled. Not this early in the day.

Ezekiel plastered on a smile as the next parent stepped forward with their child. A woman with short curls, bright blue eyes, who was dressed in a modest sundress that stopped a bit under her knees.  The young girl was a splitting image of her mother with the exception of her strawberry blonde hair.

“Good morning,” he greeted warmly. “How may we help you?”

The woman returned his smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’d like to sign my daughter up for summer camp.”

Ezekiel nodded, handing her the necessary paperwork, clipboard and a pen. “Yes Ma’am. Please complete this application. If you have any issues or questions, I will be happy to assist you.”

“Thank you,” The woman accepted the clipboard, their fingers brushing briefly. She beckoned for her daughter to follow her to the area designated for filling out paperwork.

Ezekiel cleared his throat and reached for his thermos, his mouth suddenly dry. The water was enough to snap him back to his senses for the time being to continue assisting Debbie at the front desk. He snuck a glance at the woman and her daughter. Her brow was pinched as she concentrated on filling in the many lines of information. He knew the packet was lengthy, but he was a thorough person and disliked surprises.

More children appeared, some with their parents and others were alone. Many had their ID cards ready as they were already accustomed to the check in process. He greeted each of them, some by name and the other just as warmly even though he didn’t know their names yet.

By the time the small crowd of parents and children was cleared, the woman returned with the paperwork and clipboard. Debbie thanked her and scanned for the lines for any need corrections or missing information. After a few beats, she nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Peletier. Am I saying that correctly?”

“Yes Ma’am,” she stammered.

Debbie smiled gently, sensing the woman’s nervousness. She began to explain the remainder of the application, which was mostly details pertaining to the basic rules of the center and proper protocols should issues arise. She then accepted the due payment, making the correct change and producing a receipt. She then made copies of the paper work and created a temporary ID tag. After all of that was done Debbie turned her attention to the young girl. “This is for you to keep with you at all times until you get your official one. It contains your name and ID number.”

The girl accepted the sticker and promptly put it on her shirt. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

Ezekiel couldn’t stop from grinning. The young girl was meek in nature but showing to be respectful. He leaned forward and read her name tag. “Sophia. Is that correct?”

Sophia nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

Ezekiel stretched out his hand. “Welcome to Summer camp.”

----

Carol felt like it was the first day of school all over again for Sophia. She was sure she was over reacting, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. She supposed that this is how it would be when it was time for Sophia to go off for college. She shivered. She didn’t want to think about that just yet.

The entire process was a lot simpler than she anticipated but she was still on edge the entire time. The fact that she was going behind Ed’s back in signing Sophia up summer camp was both exciting and nerve racking. She was quick to decline the option for Sophia to be picked up in the mornings. She would just take Sophia to the center after Ed went to work for the day. Fortunately, Ed went to work two hours before the center opened and returned in the evenings way after the recreation center’s closing hours.

Sophia said her goodbyes, hugging Carol tight around her waist before following the waiting camp counselor. Despite the unease in her gut, she felt pride in knowing that she was finally able to do something for her daughter.

“She’s in good hands Mrs.Peletier,” The man said as if he was listening to her thoughts.

Carol nodded and readjusted her purse strap. She hadn’t paid any real attention to the man behind the desk, instead giving it mostly to the younger woman. It was a habit she was trying to break, but was still struggling to do. It was a habit that helped avoid confrontation with Ed. He didn’t like if she showed too much “attention” to other men.

The little streak of rebellion inside her was quick to remind her that Ed was not here at this very moment. So, she allowed her eyes to study the man behind the counter. Her eyes roamed to his tag that read ‘Ezekiel’. It was foreign on her tongue, and she decided that it was perfect for the man that sported long salt and peppered dreadlocks and had a rich, smooth voice. One that commanded your attention. While filling out the paperwork, she’d listened to the brief interactions of Ezekiel with the other parents and children. He appeared genuinely pleased to see each person and his voice reflected as much.

So, to say, Ezekiel’s assurance of her daughter’s wellbeing set her at ease.

“Thank you,” Carol said quietly. She made eye contact this time, realizing with a start that Ezekiel had rich, expressive eyes. They were warm, like his voice and had the power to pin her where she stood. On top of that, his easy smile was contiguous. Quickly she averted her eyes and made way to exit the lobby. On her way out, she noticed the boy from the grocery store named Henry. He had a small back pack this time.

Carol wondered suddenly if Sophia would befriend Henry. It wasn’t that Sophia was anti-social but she was quiet by nature and shy, so she didn’t have too many friends. She was hopeful, as she didn’t want her daughter to grow up without having some type of social life. One that involved much laughter and plenty of memories to last a life time.

----

Ezekiel leaned against the door frame of the cafeteria, watching the room slowly fill with children. Some of bursting with energy, greeting their friends while other trudged along clearly still sleepy. His eyes fell to the one of the newest members, Sophia Peletier. She had seated herself at one of the round tables and was curiously looking around at the other children. He noticed the way she tugged nervously at her fingers and chewed at her lip.

So far, no one came to sit with her as they passed by. Which was to be expected as she was new and many of the children weren’t. Some of the children were obvious with their judgmental stares, while other were just as nervous and averted their gazes.

By the time everyone was in the cafeteria. Ezekiel joined Jerry who was waiting at the podium. The tall man offered a thumbs up, signaling that they were ready to roll.

Ezekiel grabbed the microphone causing a hush to fall open the room. He cleared his throat and began his speech. It was the usual, a full greeting to the children, a run down of the rules and the necessary protocols. The talk lasted no more than twenty minutes, opening the floor for Jerry to say his share and even initiate the brief ‘get to know a new buddy’ session. It was a activity they developed to help break the ice between the old and new members.

“Alright, Alright everybody let’s make this quick,” Jerry grinned, waved his hand. “For those of you who are currently sitting alone at a table, please join the nearest table to you. C’mon don’t be shy. No one’s gonna bite.”

Ezekiel watched as each person that was sitting alone did as they were told. His eyes automatically located Sophia among the crowd. She was hesitant at first but joined a table that seated two other boys he knew, as they were regulars to recreation center for going on three years now.

“Now, please introduce yourselves and talk about something you like to do.” Jerry instructed the room. Then, after a hearing a couple of groans, he added. “Even if you know each other already, just welcome one another back and catch up.”

Chatter began amongst the tables, and even some laughter erupted in some areas. Again, Ezekiel attention drifted back to Sophia’s table and was pleased to see her accepting a hand shake from one of her table mates. She was sitting taller now, seeming a little more confident than before. It was a good sign.

The job of being a camp director required that Ezekiel not only be observant but mindful to the behavior of the children taken under his care. It was heart breaking, to know not all of the children lived happy, healthy lives. He wasn’t there to judge, but rather show as much kindness and affection to them as he possibly could.

There was something about Sophia Peletier that made Ezekiel want to keep a special eye on her.

‘”She’s in good hands Mrs.Peletier”

Ezekiel mentally shook himself. It was both corny and a little creepy now that he thought of his earlier statement. It wasn’t the first time a parent was unsure of their choice, but this time he could feel something was different. He felt the need to assure Carol Peletier that she wasn’t making a mistake. Perhaps it was because he could see the inner conflict that was taking place behind those solemn eyes. Or the way she studied him so deeply before nearly running out of the lobby.

Ezekiel huffed and shelved the thought for later.

[twelvesignsrp]

congratulations sav, aries is now kieran campbell with the faceclaim dudley o’shaughnessy !

APPLICATION

Character Sign: Aries

Character name: Kieran Campbell Birthday: 04/02/1997 Sexuality: Homosexual Gender: Cisgender Male Moon Sign: Capricorn Faceclaim: Dudley O’Shaugnessy Power: Fire Manipulation – He can only manipulate fire, not create it, so he carries a lighter with him in order to spark a flame when needed. He’s still not the best at controlling this ability yet, so it takes an intense amount of concentration on his part to keep the fire from going haywire. This, as you might imagine, takes a considerable toll on him. Usually after only a few minutes of continuous use his knees get wobbly and his head starts to spin.

Secondary ability (from the sudden power up): Enhanced charisma. Fire signs have incredibly large personalities and, just like the element they represent, can be very charming and magnetic, drawing people into their area of influence. This added ability allows Kieran to subtly persuade others to see his opinion/take his side. It’s not an exact science, and some people seem to be more susceptible than others. Of course, he can’t persuade someone to jump out of a window or hand him a million dollars. His natural born charisma is only slightly heightened, giving him a mild edge when it comes to things like: suggesting that the librarian allow him to check out more books/research materials than is usually allowed, convincing the chef at his favorite restaurant that an item that’s no longer on the menu should be reintroduced, etc.

What do they study?: Kieran is a law student

Biography:

T H E N

Kieran Campbell grew up in Edinburgh, Scotland. His father was a respected incumbent member of the Scottish Parliament, his mother a devoted homemaker and caregiver. From a young age, his parents impressed upon him three essential traits that, they believed, were the key to success: Ambition, Excellence, Dominance.

[First, ambition. Do nothing without enthusiasm, charisma, and innovation. Do not drag your feet. Motivate yourself. Be an example. A leader. Do not wait to be asked. Anticipate. Outrun, outgun, and outperform those around you. Do not settle for average, because in this world, average is a death sentence. Averagewon’t get you noticed. Average won’t pay your bills. Average won’t get you anywhere.

Next, excellence. Do not attempt something unless you’re aiming to be the best – anything less is wasting your time. Do not accept participation trophies or consolation prizes: they’re symbols of your defeat, your inability to be number one. “Trying” is only an excuse created by those who cannot do.  Who cannot achieve. “Trying” means nothing. Winning means everything.

Last, dominance. Do not pity those below you. Do not give charity or handouts. The only thing separating them from you is that you made it and they did not. You’re on top because you deserve to be, so show no mercy. Take what you want. Take what is owed. Lead. Delegate. Do not apologize. Do not offer excuses or justifications for your greatness.]

Kieran was a model son. Top of his class every year, head of every committee or club he could join, and an exceptional athlete. His parents took him out to society dinners and exclusive functions and paraded him around, singing his praises to anyone who would listen. He lived for it. The attention. The recognition. It became an addiction, a fix that he craved. To be applauded and told “Yes. Yes, this is life and you are doing it right. You’re going to go places young man, I already know it. You’re such a smart boy. Such a winner.”

By the time he was halfway through secondary school, there wasn’t a soul in his school that didn’t know his name. The faculty, the staff, the students: they all watched him walk by with the same look – equal parts awe and fear. He was a rising football star, the best player in his league. He carried his club team with ease, winning every match. He practiced on the pitch for hours each day after class, honing his skills. Perfecting his form. He was guaranteed a scholarship at this point to any school of his choosing. He was going to be able to take his pick: a feat not even his father had boasted.

Things were perfect.

He was perfect.

But a house of cards can only be stacked so high before its own weight becomes too much to bear.

His last year of school before applying to university, he met a boy. A boy who didn’t care who his father was. A boy who wasn’t impressed by his grades or his skills or his good looks. A boy who saw through the arrogance. The confidence. A boy who drank whiskey out of water bottles and doodled on his bare, white skin with permanent marker. A boy who called him late at night to ask questions he couldn’t answer and spin pipe dreams he could never have (dreams he couldn’t hope to want, no matter how badly he ached for them). A boy with dark hair and green eyes who kissed him one day on the train and shattered every little piece of him.

His grades started to slip. He started lying to his parents, sneaking out at night for midnight rendezvous. People began to notice, especially after he started skipping football practice. To stave off suspicion, he started dating a petite little blonde who smiled when he opened doors for her and put a napkin in her lap when she ate. Her face would crumple every time he told her he was too busy to hang out after school, but he never felt bad.

Three months after he met the boy, the two of them drove Kieran’s father’s luxury sedan over a median and straight into a light pole.

Kieran doesn’t remember much, after that, except pain and, even more agonizing: regret.

There’s two surgeries to repair his left leg. Metal plates and screws and physical therapy. He finishes out the rest of the year from home, his parents… disinclined to let him anywhere near that school again. The house is like a prison, silent and sharp with disappointment. His father won’t speak to him. His mother cries every time he hobbles by her on his crutches.

Climbing his way back to the top is exhausting, but he throws himself at it with renewed drive. He studies for hours. Does extra credit. His phone rings and rings and rings, some days, and he locks it away in his sock drawer because he can’t look at the caller ID without feeling like he’s back in that car again, hot blood running down his cheek and pain searing white hot through his lower body. Eventually, he takes out his SIM card and throws it away in the trash bin out back.

He graduates. But he’s not number one. And it stings, even though he’s expecting it. Without a chance for a sports scholarship and with his lackluster finish to the year, only a handful of universities contact him back, and none of them are up to his family’s standards.

His father pays for a spot at Durham.

N O W

Kieran knows what’s at stake, now. He’s already screwed up once: there won’t be any second chances. After the scandal (“Unlicensed Teen Son of Prominent Scottish Parliament Leader and Friend Collide with Light Pole After Drunk Driving Escapade, No Causalities”) his chances of following in his father’s footsteps were all but destroyed, but a career in law is just as respectable, and he really doesn’t mind the subject all that much. Durham is his only hope to salvage his reputation and his strained relationship with his father, and he’s not going to let anything distract him.

(Not even magic, he tells himself as the flame from the candle on his desk flickers and grows with a wave of his hand.)

Five interesting facts about your character:

Kieran is stressed, repressed, and overdressed like, always. He appreciates good fashion.

He loves pickles.

He still watches football matches, even if it’s a painful reminder of the future he could have had.

He doesn’t talk to anyone from Edinburgh anymore besides his parents, preferring to bury his past and move on rather than dwell on his mistakes.

While he’s still as determined and stubborn as ever, his drive is largely born out of desperation, now. He’s secretly terrified of making another mistake.

Character Quote: “Cause I fuck with myself more than anybody else.” – BANKS (“Fuck With Myself”)

If your character had a patronus what would it be? and why?: Komodo Dragon. These dragons have been around for centuries. Just like Kieran, they know the value of staying power. They’re patient and meticulous hunters and doggedly pursue their prey, sometimes for hundreds of miles, until their stubbornness is rewarded. Komodo dragons are often associated with fire, as many believe they can secretly breathe flames.

WRITING SAMPLE

He’s got one hand wrapped around the neck of a bottle of whiskey and the other is gripping your thigh, squeezing so hard he’s sure to leave bruises. You take your eyes off the road to look at him. He’s slouched down in the passenger seat, an unlit cigarette hanging between his lips. His eyes catch the light of neon shop signs as you pass and you can’t help but wonder how something so beautiful, so mysterious, looked at you and saw anything but a fraud. An empty, hollow vessel that’d been stuffed full to the brim with the thoughts and expectations of others.

“C’mon. Lemme drive.”

You pull over onto the shoulder and the two of you swap spots, shimming one at a time over the middle console so you don’t have to get out in the cold and circle around to the other side of the car. You take the bottle and he starts the engine. He slams his foot down on the accelerator, merging back onto the highway as you take a swig of whiskey, grimacing at the burn. He looks over at you and smiles, amused, and you smile back, helpless.

He turns his attention to the speedometer, eyes alight with chaos and exhilaration as it steadily climbs higher, and you lean over to turn on the radio.

“Oh, shit!”

You don’t even have time to blink. Your outstretched hand, frozen halfway between your body and the dash, is the last thing you remember. (The image lives beneath your eyelids, now, and every time you close your eyes you see it.)

You wake up, briefly, after the dust has settled, but all you recognize is pain, white hot agony tracing its way down your spin. Something hot and sticky drips from your nose. Your lips.

You hear him, screaming himself hoarse beside you, but you don’t know what he wants, so you close your eyes.

(You find out, later, that it was a dog. A dog, crossing the road.)

ANYTHING ELSE?

My favorite color is green! Thank ya’ll again for the generous reserve!!! (Also, just so there’s no confusion, the football I refer to here is the European football – so, soccer!)

[namisashimi]

369: ‘Suffering is always by my side.’

source. profile by danneergou (丹尼二狗) for pentaq. images by yan wendi (梁文迪) and yicun (一村).

translator. in a rare moment of free time, i had the chance to watch IG vs. TES in the LPL regional finals; there was something so quintessentially LPL and yet so captivating about a team of rookies taking on the reigning world champions and the chaos that ensued. pentaq has always written these complex, sympathetic and yet strangely bittersweet portraits of LPL players and their struggles in pursuit of a dream, and this one is no different. i hope you’ll enjoy this one.

369 made a motion like climbing a mountain. "I don't know. But I will always be climbing, and I will always be moving forward."

What does the LPL stage mean to a professional player? Only just eighteen, 369 has yet to find time to think about this. All he knows is that ever since he joined TOP's LPL team last November, his life has been like riding a bullet train. Those things he once dared not even imagine - one by one, they have become reality.

"One day, I will be a professional player," 369 once boasted to his classmates; at the time, he was still a student and his account 菜鸟 (t/n: 'noob') was only Gold. Many years later, when he found himself standing on the Demacia Cup stage for the first time, looking at the tide of people below him, letting the audience's cheers for their opponent IG crash over him, "If these people were cheering for us, wouldn't that be even better?"

To listen to those cheers, he has already given up much. He said goodbye to his best friend, took on more stress and frustration, and faced his own inner demons head-on. Throughout this process, suffering has been his constant companion.

"When you play professionally, in a hundred days, maybe ninety-nine of them will be losses. And only in an hour of that one remaining day will you taste success." Little P, a coach for the academy team who watched 369's journey from the LDL to the LPL, felt that this was a road every player must walk. "All kinds of negative feedback are entangled with a player's career. For many of them, even up until they retire, they will have no way to understand this."

To an outsider, he might already seem gifted with extraordinary luck - he only spent one season on the academy team before being promoted to the main team. In the spring split, he was already a starting player; they finished third in the regular season, fourth in playoffs, and earned the chance to represent LPL at Rift Rivals. At only eighteen, this boy already had a chance that could change his life - but he had no time to celebrate; he had to hurry to the next battlefield.

"If I think about it, I've lived eighteen years. All the previous years were plain and faint; it seems only this one has a spark of light."

one. giving up, holding on.

No matter what, 369 has always said what he thought - even if, in that moment, it felt like everyone else was standing against him.

This was how it seemed in July 2018, the first time Little P saw him. At the time, Little P was the assistant coach for TOP's main team. Once, he and the team visited their academy team KOF to do a review of one of KOF's games.

During their analysis, this kid who always had something to say came to his attention. "To be honest, his analysis of the game was correct, but whether the team should prioritize top lane or bot lane was a stylistic decision, not one with a right or wrong choice. They were not trying to solve a problem, but rather having a debate."

What Little P remembered most from that day was how 369 kept asking him, "P Bro, do you also think this is correct? Do you agree with this?" While he noticed his strong desire to win, Little P also felt that he "relied too much on what others thought of him."

A little while later, Little P was transferred from the main team to KOF, and thus became 369's in-game mentor. But the first to have noticed 369 was Guo Hao, the TOP manager who instigated this transfer.

In April 2018, even as the main team played against Snake in Chongqing, Guo Hao elected to go to the LDL student and watch KOF. Because some impressive plays caught his eye, this player who went by 369 came to his attention. "The impression he gave me was someone with meticulous mechanics, who had guts and didn't panic. Even when left with a sliver of health, he would still use his positioning to juke skills." At that time, Guo Hao thought - this kid might be it.

Back then, 369 had only just joined KOF. Born in 2001, he grew up in Henan with his grandmother and little sister. His family and childhood experiences made 369 more independent, yet also more vulnerable to social influences. In the third year of middle school, he found he couldn't keep up with his studies, so he wanted to go to a vocational school. He thought to himself, "This way, at least I'll have some skills to support myself with." Afterwards, he went into a four-year automobile repair program, which included a guaranteed job assignment after graduation.

Attending vocational school really just meant he was playing League of Legends in a new location; he "felt that [he] couldn't see any hope." If he had followed this path, perhaps in four years he really would've become an auto mechanic.

Once, another player added him as a friend and told him that if he changed his ID to a certain name and played every day, they would pay him 30RMB a day. 369 was delighted to hear that League of Legends could earn him money and pay for more of his netcafe fees. "I had always felt quite disappointed in myself growing up, but playing this game, I suddenly had a reason to feel proud." At that time, he was around Diamond on Ionia.

Before he joined KOF, 369 had been a part of two different academy teams. One was LGD; the other was VG. Both experiences ended with little gained. While he as at LGD, he felt that "the team's attitude was very negative at the time," and after losing to ME in Hero of Cities (t/n: qualification tournament for LDL), he "didn't want to play any more." As for the half year he spent at VG, he once again used the term "couldn't see any hope" to describe it.

Always unable to see hope, always choosing to leave, and always reluctantly returning - this summarized the beginning of 369's career. After leaving VG at the end of 2017, he suddenly realized that he had been on the road to becoming a professional player for a year and a half, yet he had nothing to show for it. He felt that in that time, he "hadn't worked hard enough, wasn't determined enough."

So when he joined KOF, he gave himself two objectives. The first was very difficult - in July, before his birthday, he would reach Challenger; the second was even more so - to make it to LPL. At the time, 369 had better teams to choose from, but KOF's then-manager told him, "As long as you have the strength, then you will have opportunities." In the end, he chose to remain with KOF.

When he joined the team in April, 369 was remarkably hard-working and self-disciplined. He would get up every day at eight or nine in the morning, and play until one or two the next day. "Every time I lost, I would start looking for my own mistakes instead of being stubborn." By June, 369 had successfully made his way to KR Challenger, accomplishing his first goal. After reaching Challenger, he didn't play at first for fear he'd drop back down, but under his coach's encouragement, he broke into the top 50.

As the 2018 LDL season began, 369 was in perfect form. Combined with good results in scrims, he was full of confidence.

On June 29, in their first match, KOF lost 0:2 to SHA. On July 1, KOF once again lost to ME. On July 14, even after adjusting their team, KOF once again lost 0:2 to VTG. What followed was only another string of losses. Only after a month had passed did KOF finally earn their first best-of-3 victory. In the fourteen games of the summer season, KOF only won three matches.

In their first loss, what left the greatest impression on their ADC Photic was how after they left the stage, 369 tore off his glasses and squatted on the ground, not saying a thing.

As the season progressed, the pain of losing grew greater and greater, and 369's solo queue rank dropped from Challenger back to Diamond I. Once again, 369 almost gave up. As the summer season grew to a close, 369 and Photic returned to the base after one of their games and went upstairs to their room. The lights were off, and in the abject darkness, 369 called out Photic's name and asked him what he should do. As Photic was momentarily stunned, he continued, saying that nothing would keep him going, and he wondered if he should just retire and do something else.

"Are you stupid? There must be something wrong with your head." That night, Photic sat 369 down and ruthlessly poured chicken soup into his soul.

In the end, the person who truly changed 369 was their manager, Guo Hao. On August 25, Guo Hao and the TOP team arrived ahead of time to prepare to face Snake in Chongqing. Before their match, the main team used the second floor of KOF's building to practice. Meanwhile, the academy team gathered on the first floor, and Guo Hao had a simple chat with them about their plans for the future.

Guo Hao's words were very direct. He said to the entire academy team, "If any of you want to play in LDL next season, if any of you just want this salary, or if any of you think you should receive a bonus just for doing well in LDL, then you are not suited to be a part of our team." Then, he pointed at the second floor, where the main team were practicing. "Your goal is to defeat them, to get them kicked. After defeating them, then defeat the people they couldn't defeat. If any of you don't have this goal, then talk to me. You can leave the team now."

As he said that, 369 was sitting in the spot closest to Guo Hao. When he finished, tears were already in 369's eyes. "Those words must've hit home with him. Guo Hao had said some things he had always believed, but never dared to say himself," Little P recollected about those events, which he was also present for. Seeing 369's strong reaction to his words, Guo Hao invited him out of the building to have a one-on-one chat. What left the strongest impression on Guo Hao was that the moment 369 left the building, he hit the ground and started to cry again.

"At the time, I asked him what was going on. He said that previously, everyone would always say, Bai Hao (t/n: short form of 369's name, Bai Jiahao), you play so well. Next season, you'll definitely be on the main team. They all thought he could make it, and he even had this hope. But throughout this entire split, he's performed exceptionally poorly, he hasn't been able to climb in soloq, he hasn't even been able to learn new champions. So he felt he already had no chance."

In that moment, Guo Hao saw this child in his most vulnerable moment. He thought to himself about how moments ago, this person had been in tears at his very words, and he felt like this attitude "couldn't be faked." So Guo Hao chose to say something to 369 which, in retrospect, he realized were quite extreme words.

"If in this academy team, even you cannot go to LPL, then no one can."

two. friends, partings.

In the middle of 2017, a Jiangxi youth who'd made it to Masters on Summoner's Rift received an invitation to try out at OMG's headquarters. His father, who worked far away in Zhejiang, was worried, so he accompanied his son to Shanghai. The first time he saw the way the esports club looked in real life, the youth thought, "So cool."

The two weeks of his tryout at OMG passed quickly. Apart from his regular ranked games, he played eight scrims, losing more than he won. On the final day, one of the staff members told him to return home and wait for further instructions. At the time, he didn't realize this was a polite way of rejecting him. After he went home, his father showed him a conversation with the team, where they suggested that perhaps he should finish high school first. That night, he lay on his bed sadly, thinking to himself - perhaps it was better to work hard and study instead of thinking about this.

In the end, he still didn't "come to his senses." In the following year, as his rank grew better and better, while studying he secretly prepared his resume behind his parents' backs and sent it to the various large esports organizations.

It was only in March 2018 that the boy finally got his chance - his resume came to the attention of team manager for KOF. His mother and grandmother were firmly against interrupting his studies, but in the end, they were convinced by his father. His father, who was still working in a distant location, told him over WeChat that since he had chosen this path, he must keep to it and not give up halfway.

At the end of March, this boy came from Jiangxi to Chongqing and thus, officially began his professional career. A few days after he arrived, a plump little guy showed up at the organization. His first impression of the newcomer was that he was "straightforward." Since he was a newcomer as well, he was a little shy, but the other boy was exceptionally enthusiastic and greeted everyone. Later on, the two of them would sit next to each other.

This youth was Photic, and this late-arriving little plump guy was 369. In the following days, the two would become each other's best friends.

from left to right - photic, guo hao, knight9, and 369.

"At school, friendship is commonplace, but for professional players who have entered society, it is far too precious. Some players only treat each other as colleagues, while others think of it as just playing together, so there's no way to really become friends." In Little P's eyes, the way Photic and 369's personalities complemented each other allowed them to become friends. "Professional play isn't just five people playing in a five-stack together; it's five brothers-in-arms living together. If under these circumstances, you cannot find a connection with people, then it must be very lonely."

Friendship between boys often begins with rivalry - comparing their scores, comparing their records, comparing even the time they woke up. Every time 369 made a particularly stellar play, he'd ask Photic, "Isn't that impressive?" Photic might agree, but he would always respond, "Anyone can do that as long as they have hands."

Of course, they were also companions. The summer of 2018, Chongqing was so hot that "even wearing t-shirts and shorts, it was still unbearable." Every day, after they finished their practice at 5:30PM, Photic and 369 would always go to the nearby store to buy cold refreshments. The trip wasn't particularly long, and so as they walked, they would talk about their games and their lives, and then with 3RMB ice creams hanging from their mouths, they would return to continue practicing. When they finished practicing at midnight, the two of them would walk back to their room together. Before they slept, they would chat a little more; as for what they talked about, it didn't even matter to them.

That season of the LDL, KOF didn't perform particularly well. For these newcomers to the professional scene, facing the stress of a losing streak, those 3RMB ice creams and their nighttime boasts became one of their few good memories.

On September 2, KOF finished their last match in Chongqing. Photic and 369's first LDL season clocked in at 3-11, second from last in their region. After the regular season, the organization gave the players some time off; the main team got two months while the academy team got one and a half.

Before their vacation, 369 asked Photic if he were going home. Photic said he would not - he wanted to use the break to practice a little more, play a little better. At the time, he had never been Challenger in KR solo queue, and he set that as his goal. When their vacation began, 369 returned to Henan, and Photic remained at the headquarters. "I felt that if I went back for these two months, then perhaps I might disappear entirely."

He didn't expect that a few days later, 369 would suddenly message him on WeChat and tell him that he was coming back. "At that time, I was really lost. After thinking hard at home for a few days, a few things suddenly became clear to me. I wanted to come back and do them immediately." After he rushed back to the gaming house overnight, 369 spent his vacation practicing with Photic. After waking up at noon, they would train into the early morning; they'd play a few other games and then sleep. The next day, they'd start it all over again. Since there was no housekeeper to cook for them, they ordered take-out every day.

Putting aside everything to focus on the game for a month was practically a formative experience for these two teenagers. During that time, Photic often snuck peeks at 369's rank, trying to judge what the other's skill was like in the end. "He would never peek at mine, because I didn't have as much LP as he did." After half a month, Photic was still a few hundred LP away from Challenger, while 369 had brought himself back from Diamond I to Challenger.

Since a few staff members were still working during the holiday, their coach Little P learned about what was going on. When the vacation ended and they were organizing the team, the manager Guo Hao received a message Little P sent him of 369's solo queue rank - 700LP Challenger. He looked at the attachment and replied to Little P: "How about we let him come up?"

In November 2018, 369 officially received a training invitation from the main team; he had finally accomplished the second goal he'd set when he joined KOF. The day he left, he woke up early to pack his bags, then boarded a plane from Chongqing to Shanghai. On the afternoon of that same day, Photic woke up and looked at the bunk below him. His friend's bed was still there, but the keyboard and mouse on the practice desk had vanished. In that moment, he truly knew that 369 had left.

A few days ago, 369 had told him that he would be going to the main team, but Photic had thought it a joke, that it was just a lie for himself. When he realized all of this was reality, he could not stop himself from crying in front of his good friend.

"I am very happy you can play there, but right now, I really cannot be happy."

three. pain, change.

For 369 to go the main team, Photic's inner thoughts were in turmoil.

On one hand, he felt forlorn and lonely; he missed having a friend to talk to every night before bed. On the other hand, when he saw 369's excellent performance in the 2018 NEST tournament, he felt that he "had to play better in order to meet with him again." According to coach Little P's observations, after 369 left, Photic became much more focused.

On the other side, after coming to Shanghai and becoming a part of the main team, 369 was now experiencing something completely different. When he first arrived at the gaming house, Guo Wei assigned 369 and midlaner Knight9 to the same room, hoping that 369 would pick up on Knight9's focus and determination to improve.

Soon after, the "placement test" arrived. When the team attended the end-of-year 2018 NEST and Demacia Cup, 369 suddenly discovered that the teammates surrounding him were much stronger than he'd had before. He practically "lay down and got carried," and without even knowing how, he put up a good scoreline.

A greater stage brought more fans and more attention, and 369 began to secretly use Weibo to upvote the comments saying he performed well. One thing led to another, and when Guo Hao found out about it, he practically laughed until he cried. Later, he and 369 talked, and the other said, a little embarrassed, "Hao Bro, I might be a little overconfident. If you see me being too proud of myself again, please tell me."

Since they were in contact with the main team, after 369 left, the academy coach Little P would often tell Photic, who was still at KOF, what was happening to his friend. In the 2019 spring season, Little P told Photic, "369 cries quite often there." Near playoffs, Little P told him, "Recently, 369 has gone mental boom."

"That kind of mental boom was the beginning of suffering," 369 reminisced. From before the spring playoffs, to playing IG there, to once again meeting IG in the summer split, to being benched at Rift Rivals, to finally being benched against LGD in the regular season - 369 traced such a path. "If I said that perhaps there were twenty things that caused me pain this year, then maybe seventeen of them were in this timeframe." Later, because he'd dwell on the mistakes he made because of his despondent mental state, he couldn't sleep at night; he'd go to bed at 2AM and perhaps only fall asleep at 4AM. "Useless." He used this kind of language to describe himself.

From when he officially joined the main team to after the spring season, 369 and manager Guo Hao had more time to talk. They often chatted whenever they had time, and once they got started, they could go on for a few hours. From his chats with 369, Guo Hao got the impression that this child was rather "lonely."

"This kind of 'loneliness' doesn't mean that others weren't treating him well, but rather that he - how to put it - that he didn't entirely consider himself part of the team." Guo Hao recalled that once when they were talking, he told him two lines from On Chao Cuo. (t/n: a mildly famous text by Song dynasty statesman Su Shi.) The first was, "From ancient times until now, all those who have accomplished great things had not only talent, but also an unbreakable will." The second was, "Those would would call themselves gentlemen, who seek extraordinary success, must not think too much of themselves." These two lines and their meanings were the principles Guo Hao wanted 369 to realize.

The academy coach Little P had similar thoughts. After getting to know him, he realized that when 369 made some decisions, he would sometimes unconsciously try to protect himself. "When he was in the LDL, there was a period of time when he dropped from Challenger to Diamond I. Then, he told me he didn't want to play, because he was afraid that he would show unfavorable results on stage."

From despondence to pain, and the ensuing decline of his condition - this all reflected in his scorelines. In the spring playoffs match against IG, 369 played two matches before being switched out. "It was as if the barrels had exploded."

At Rift Rivals, however, 369 faced one of LCK's best toplaners, Nuguri. He had the advantage in the laning phase but could not capitalize on it once teamfighting broke out. Nuguri was an opponent he had always wanted to surpass, but during the spring split, Guo Hao had used Nuguri as an example to bring up a question: if Nuguri were so good, then why was their other toplaner, Flame, given the chance to play and even win?

After playing DWG and finishing the day's matches, their head coach BSYY returned to the scrim room to decide who would play the next today. In that night's scrims, the toplane player was Moyu - and without scrims, there were no games to play.

To help the main team prepare for Rift Rivals, Little P was transferred from KOF to the frontlines in Seoul. The day 369 was benched, Little P sat with him and watched all the games. What he remembered most from that day was that once, 369 patted him on the shoulder, said "P Bro!" and then sighed deeply.

"Honestly, sometimes you can't blame the players. He made it this far by doing things this way, so if you want him to change right away, that's practically impossible. You have to slowly find that balance. I think through this process, he can replace some parts of himself that aren't so good, and thus become a more excellent person and learn what it means to truly be a team." Seeing how 369 sighed to himself, Little P didn't offer him too much comfort, but simply told him, "Don't worry. This experience will be very valuable. But next time, if there's another chance, you must take it."

After Rift Rivals, Little P went back to KOF to continue his work with the academy team, but he continued to observe 369's LPL games. In the following games in the summer split, when he saw 369 choose counterpicks and choose strategies that would not put undue stress on his teammates, he felt very pleased.

"People have to experience things to learn." 369 didn't regret what he went through to gain this experience. "Even if I don't regret what happened, it still feels like a pity. Because I didn't do well, we didn't go further. If I had played better, perhaps we had a chance to make it to the finals."

four. epilogue.

After the new year, TOP's academy team moved to Shanghai; they were now in the same district as the main team, only five minutes away. Starting from when they moved until now, 369 of the main team and Photic of the academy team have met seven or eight times. The two of them go out for dinner and watch movies; each time, it's always 369 who takes the initiative to invite Photic. "To players on the academy team, the main team is something almost sacred," coach Little P said.

Guo Hao still talks with 369 from time to time, but now he more often takes the role of listener. Since he was a little overly strict with 369 before and noticed he was starting to evade questions, Guo Hao chose to take a different approach and allow the other to speak more.

Back to 369 - the last time I saw him, he seemed very calm, especially when talking about those things he'd experienced this past year that he wasn't entirely satisfied with. "If you asked me how I felt a year ago, maybe I would've had a lot to say, but now, after going through so much, it almost seems like none of that has left a serious impression on him." To him, 2019 can best be described as 'full;' it's as if even before the wounds from the previous fight have healed or he had a chance to look back, he found himself thrust into yet another battlefield.

And so it goes for most professional players. As Little P put it, those are the "negative feedback loops that follow their entire career." "Some things never really leave you; they will always accompany you, but you must hope you will not be affected by them. So it all depends on if you have a way to face them, if you have a way to become friends with yourself."

Did 369 find that? Perhaps he did; perhaps he is still on the road to doing so. When asked how he sees the things he experienced, he said they were "very interesting." "It's like if you talk about something sad that happened to you during school now, you will feel like it's very interesting. That pain no longer seems as deep as it once was."

And when asked how he felt now, he made a motion like climbing a mountain. "I don't know. But I will always be climbing, and I will always be moving forward."

[jerilyntibbs272-blog]

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[ravenbrenna09]

masterpiece - snippet

I caved and decided to just post it since I’m probably not going to be posting Sobbe-related stuff for a bit. 

everyone blame @fehmyn​ for glasses!Sander because look at him:

Like why.

...

Thursday was not Robbe’s day. 

Thursday was, by far, Robbe’s longest and physically draining day. While his first class of the day didn’t start until a little before 12:00, his day wouldn’t end until about 23:00 which was when the library closed down, and he was freed from his job so he could go home. To add to his torture of a long day, (which is really his own fault for taking Amber’s shift so she could be picked up by her mother on her way home from work), his classes on Thursdays were particularly draining, filled with dry teachers that talked to the board and ignored any and all questions. 

Letting out a sigh, Robbe turned to his introductory essay which was pulled up in another tab of the computer in front of him. The head of the department didn’t care about them working on homework, as long as their other jobs were done first, and Robbe had already put up the remaining books in the library, straightened up the desks where the student workers sat, and filed away a stack or two of files for one of his superiors. 

Now, that all of his librarian work was done, at least until someone returned a book to the circulation counter and he would go off in search of its rightful spot, Robbe could focus on this essay, or a story, that his writing teacher had assigned as an “introduction” to their mindset as writers. And, the topic that had been chosen by his other 25 classmates was soulmates. 

He let out a breath of air, burying his face in his hands.

Robbe hated soulmates. 

Or, rather, he hated the idea of soulmates. 

As a kid, Robbe would sit and watch his mother doodle on her skin with her favorite pen, watch the curve of her letters, her small doodles of flowers, appear on the exact same spot on his father’s hand. His parents would smile at each other, love in their eyes, and tease each other when the other got a stain on their hand because it affected both of them. 

To little six-year-old Robbe, soulmates were everything that he had to offer and he thought that he didn’t have one because doodles never appeared on his skin. His mother had giggled at him, informing him that his soulmate’s doodles wouldn’t appear until after he reached puberty. Little Robbe had been confused as to why he had to wait, he now knew that the changing hormones and chemicals in the body at puberty that caused the connection to show fully, but no one, not even people researching and studying soulmates, could pinpoint how soulmates are chosen or when. 

To present-day, eighteen-year-old Robbe, soulmates were crap. 

His parents had been soulmates, had fallen in love, and got married, having Robbe shortly after. For the first eight years of Robbe’s life, his parents had been happily in love with one another. His father loved being home, loved cuddling his wife on the couch, to the point that Robbe would call them disgusting and throw a pillow at them and they would laugh. Then, his parents started fighting about little things, small minuscule details that shouldn’t matter. As the years went on, the fights got worse, louder and louder until Robbe couldn’t sleep at night anymore, sneaking out of his house and going to his best friend’s house to crash. Then, his father left them alone, found another woman who made him happier, and his mother spiraled, leaving Robbe caught in between, trying to help her.

His parents were soulmates and they had fallen out of love. 

If the one person that you were destined to be with was supposed to leave you anyways, what was the point of having the ability to connect with them on a physical level?

Letting out a sigh, Robbe reached out, typing angrily. Soulmates are fucking stupid.

“Woah there,” Zoë teased, walking up with a cup of coffee in her hand. 

Zoë was a barista and one of Robbe’s roommates. At the beginning of the year, Robbe had moved into the three-bedroom flatshare with her and a senior, Milan, because Robbe was not going to live with his dad, not after what he did to his mom, not with him and his new girlfriend. It was a minor miracle that the two of them had been so willing and that his father had been so understanding. His father wanted him to live in the dorms, but it was too expensive for Robbe. He was barely surviving month-to-month as it was and living in the dorms would be almost double the cost. 

“What’s wrong?” Zoë questioned. 

“What isn’t wrong?” Robbe questioned. “Of all the topics my writing class had to pick for our introductory assignment, they picked soulmates.” Zoë scrunched up her nose, understanding. “And, I can’t think of anything to write other than soulmates are fucking stupid.” As if she didn’t believe him, he turned the screen towards her and she stood on her toes to look, letting out a light breath through her nose. He let out a sigh, straightening the computer back. “Think that will get me full points?”

“I doubt it.” Zoë laughed. “Here, it’s from Chloë.”

“Again?” Robbe questioned. Chloë was a barista at the café, who had a crush on Robbe so obvious that even he could see it, which was saying something. When it came to realizing people having feelings for him, he didn’t have the best track record. Despite the fact that Robbe had several relationships, almost all of them had been as a result of the other person making the first move. “How many times have you told her that she’s not my type?” 

“Robbe,” Zoë laughed, reaching out to pat his head with a tone that says many times. “I think the only way she’s going to be convinced that you aren’t interested in her is if she finds you making out with a guy. Not that I can blame her. You are a cute boy. Whether you want to admit it or not.” Robbe rolled his eyes before spotting the purple writing on the back of her hand. Zoë caught his gaze and scoffed. “My soulmate’s latest ‘conquest’,” she remarked, pivoting the hand towards Robbe so he could see. 

Had a good time tonight was followed by a phone number, only the final digit was smudged. 

Robbe knew that he had a soulmate, of course, but his soulmate wasn’t the type of person who slept around a lot, or if they did, they didn’t have girls writing numbers on the back of their hand in hopes of a second round. 

On his sixteenth birthday, his best friend, Jens, had jokingly drawn a poor excuse of a birthday cake and sixteen candles on the back of his right hand (and Robbe will never admit to anyone how disappointed he was that it didn’t show up on Jens’ hand). Within an hour, as he sat in his biology class, his soulmate, whoever they were, had drawn an arrow to it and wrote awful, zero stars on booking.com before proceeding to draw a perfectly drawn cake, in pen, with the exact number on the candles, on the back of his left hand. The drawing looked perfect, meticulous, and every year, on that same day, another cake would appear on his hand with an additional candle.

Robbe had a soulmate. 

Even if he didn’t want one. 

Zoë let out a heavy sigh, pulling him back into the world of the present. “Every morning I wake up with a new number on my hand is another morning I question if you have the right idea,” she admitted, staring at her hand. “Soulmates are crap. I’m always half-tempted to call the number, tell her that he’s just going to find someone else, but what’s the point, right? Plus, it’s missing a digit.” 

“Save a woman from getting her hopes up, probably. But, don’t worry,” Robbe remarked. “I’m sure he’ll get his head out of his ass soon.” 

“Excuse me,” a voice remarked, over Zoë’s shoulder. 

The two of them pivoted to find that a blond-haired man was standing behind them. The man was stunning, absolutely breathtaking as though he had been carved from stone. There was a black-beanie resting lightly on his head, covering the strands of white-blonde hair that poked out from the edge, and he had a pair of bright green eyes that were partially hidden by the black-framed glasses perched on his nose. He was dressed in a pair of denim jeans, black converse, and a t-shirt with an artist that he didn’t recognize beneath his black hoodie. 

Robbe felt his breath catch in his throat. 

Looking like that in a hoodie, glasses, and a beanie was ridiculously unfair.

Especially to Robbe. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” he continued, pushing up his green bag further up his shoulder. “But, I need to check out this book for my art history class.” 

“Of course,” Robbe replied, his voice cracking a little. There was a knowing look on Zoë’s face, a familiar eyebrow raised that she generally reserved only for Milan, as she shuffled to the side, taking the coffee with her. The man stepped forward, placing the book on the edge of the counter, and Robbe took the book from him, eager to make sure their hands didn’t touch. “Sorry about that. Do you have your id?”

“Yeah, it’s in here somewhere,” the man replied, digging his wallet out of his bag. He found it, handing it over to Robbe, their fingers brushing ever so slightly, almost like it was on purpose. Robbe felt a jolt shoot up his hand as he took the id in his hands, switching to the electronic check-out system, typing in his student id number and scanning the book. A name popped up. Sander Driesen.

Once Robbe had deactivated the electric security in the spine, he placed his id on top of the cover and slid it across the counter, “Here you go.” Robbe kept his hand on the other side of the book, making sure to pull his own hand away before Sander reached out to grab the book. He took the book from the counter, grabbing his id from the top and slipping it into his pocket. “It’ll be due on the 17th of next month.”

Sander sent him a grin, a slightly confident, slightly wicked grin, like he somehow managed to know the effect that he was having on Robbe and his already jumbled mind, almost as much as Zoë did. “Thank you so much,” he remarked. He glanced towards Zoë, who was still hanging off to the side, and Robbe thought he saw Sander’s eyes flicker down to her hand, a flicker of recognition flashing through them, but then, Sander was smiling at her and saying to her, all confident and charming, “Sorry about interrupting your conversation.” 

“It’s completely okay,” Zoë replied. “I was about to leave anyway.”

Sander moved off, grinning at her, and Zoë handed Robbe his coffee, a knowing glint in her eye as she boosted herself up over the counter to press a kiss against his cheek. He shoved her away, wiping away the residue of her signature red lipstick, and Zoë ran out the door, giggling all the way and promising to save him some leftovers from dinner. Robbe let out a sigh, trying to return to his essay on stupid soulmates, but found his eyes looking for Sander, who had disappeared.