#Then he scammed one of his fans to buy him a meal

[nobodysdaydreams]

Okay when making this poll, something occurred to me. In my fic I went with option 1, since it explains the honorary doctorates (because he would have a business degree, not a doctorate) and it would be theoretically possible for Curtain to get money quickly if he found himself in the right circles, unlike option 2 which would take a while and options 3 and 4, which would require Curtain to have some money first to build the inventions.

But I’m starting to like the all of the above option, because. If Curtain was on the streets as a kid, he’d likely resort to scamming people to make money. And if he got good enough at figuring out how to take advantage of people, he’d likely prefer to do it legally in a comfortable office through a series of business deals that brought in millions of dollars then on the streets as a magician, petty thief, and runaway trying to make just enough for his next meal.

But then when we jump into the series, there’s no mention of where Curtain gets money for his science projects, and he doesn’t seem to be running any sort of business. The Institute might have donors (it is a school with a lot of disadvantaged kids), but that likely wouldn’t be enough. So using the Whisperer and Brain sweeper would make sense. Then when Garrison runs off with them, he uses the happiness revolution to get everyone to buy his book.

This also explains why he went with the name “Ledroptha Curtain”. I’ve been imagining Nathaniel bitterly choosing it because he sees himself as the one revealing the truth to society, but what if it was just the silly stage name he made up for himself as a kid so he could do his magic tricks? And I’m not sure if the show ever actually calls him Ledroptha, just L.D. so he might have just kept the last name and made his first name something legit.

[zeroandfour]

ONEWE as Youtubers !

Admin: Kenny 👻 (first post woohoo!!!)

________________________ ♡

DONGMYEONG:

Does a little bit of everything actually

Mostly make up tutorials, talking about his day or reviewing shows/movies

Hauls and product comparisons

Often invites friends or does collabs

Vloggs when he takes a trip and shows off his cooking skills

Abuses the voting feature in the community section

A gay girlies fav youtuber 

Has a cute animated intro and a fandom name

GIUK:

High effort covers with actual MVs

Shows how he works in the studio

Drops Music every once in a while

Does MV reactions but every time he doesn’t like a part he’s not gonna be mean, he just looks at the camera like 🫣 and goes „that’s…interesting..haha“

Collabs with Kanghyun once in a while

Makes tier lists of albums and songs

Video descriptions are stacked with links to buy his equipment

KANGHYUN:

Guitar covers once in a while

Rant videos where he goes off about his loud ass neighbours but then cuts himself off with „Anyways that Kentucky chicken lowkey bussin“ as if he didn’t just go into explicit detail about his neighbours divorce for 30 minutes straight

„The worst TikToks I have ever seen“ and it’s just him pausing the video every 3 seconds to go „What the fck 😶“ with the most ear assaulting distortion edit

Always breaks something in his video or spills a drink

Invites Giuk to watch TikToks with him

Lowkey a boomer but he tries to go with the flow (uses words in the wrong context or mispronounces them)

HARIN:

Review channel- may it be a new Lego set or his grandmas kitchen. also takes it too serious- so serious that he comes off as unserious

posts every 5 months

Apology videos with titles like „I am sorry.“ „I know what I did and I apologize.“ and it’s just him apologising for not posting only to vanish for another 4 weeks

Posts random questions like „How do I get dog food out of my headphones“ in the community section

No one knows where this man lives and what he does in his spare time 

Will make the most mentally unstable comments but just moves on as if nothing happened

YONGHOON:

The most annoying MF on this app

Has too many friends to collab with and they’re all LOUD

Does Pranks and Challenges - especially 3 A.M challenges

Clickbaits and scams children

„TRYING THE NEW SPONGEBOB HAPPY MEAL - REAL CRAB MEAT ?!? | NO CLICKBAIT !!!“

Always has to be in frame

got a restraining order from at least 4 restaurants 

calls his fans Hustlers

lowkey acts fruity with his friends but shouts „no homo ho homo“ afterwards

[parappatheblogger-blog]

You look like MC Hammer on crack PaRappa!

[seita]

— don’t ask | hitoshi shinsou (m.)

pairing: hitoshi shinsou/f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

wordcount: 𝟷𝟹𝟻𝟿𝟶

cw: roommate!au, sugar baby!au

tags: heavy pining, arguments, briefly ft.kaminari, rejection, possessiveness, jealousy, crying, dirty talk, pet names, dom!shinsou, fingering, riding, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, praise (?), marking, creampie, angst with a happy ending.

note: this is a thank you for 5k followers! i can’t believe i hit such a milestone in only like a month and a half! i appreciate the love and support everyone has given me and i promise to put out more quality content going forwarad!

— you thought it was strange a guy your age made such good money by seemingly doing nothing. whenever you would question him about his income, he’d grow defensive. once a month, a left the house for a few days; leaving to perform a mysterious job he didn’t want you to know about.

⇦ back to navigation

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.  

When you saw the flier for someone looking for a new roommate, you honestly thought it was one big scam. You assumed that the second you set up a meeting, you would be kidnapped and never seen again. 

Being a lowly college kid meant you didn’t have your sea legs in the adult world quite yet. Swamped with studies, horrible at managing your time and your stress levels, you were left a constant mess. So, your solution was to stick to studying for the most part and work part-time so the job didn’t take up too much of your time. 

Another genius idea you had was the age-old roommate situation. You started out looking for listings online for preferably Musutafu or Tokyo. Alas, you came up with nothing after a handful of weeks and were intending to give up. 

However, a stop by the grocery store changed everything. It was a flyer for someone looking for a roommate in an area of Tokyo that you knew to be pretty pricey. 

It was close enough to your college campus so you wouldn’t have to worry about a stupid commute. You thought it was too good to be true as you looked at the information stating you wouldn’t even need to pay rent. You’d simply have to split some bills and buy your own groceries. 

The idea of not having to shell out hundreds of dollars a month was appealing on its own; you’d definitely be able to save with a living situation like that. 

The logical side of you was weary, however. The entire thing could be a ploy to trick some unsuspecting victim, like yourself, into who knows what. 

Still, it probably wouldn’t hurt to contact the person just in case it wasn’t a trick. No harm in checking, you supposed. 

Tugging the flyer down from where it was pinned up on the bulletin board, you folded it up and tucked it away in the front pocket of your purse to take care of when you got home from classes. 

All of that led you to meeting one Hitoshi Shinsou. He was a tall, tired looking guy around your age. His most prominent feature was the fluffy mess of purple hair that was atop his head. When you first met him, he fixed you with a cold gaze ― his purple irises burning holes into you. And for a second you were sure that you were right on your hunch and you were never going to return home. 

Nothing of consequence happened, naturally, and instead he showed you the bedroom you would be using and handed you a key before sitting down on the couch to watch TV. The whole exchange was unlike anything you expected. When you questioned him he simply told you he’d get everything straight for you and that you could begin to move in whenever. 

So you did.

As expected of such an expensive apartment, the room you were given was great. It was roomy and nothing like you assumed you would wind up with. Most college students wind up with a shitty roommate, a one-bedroom apartment, and instant ramen for dinner every night. 

Instead you got the chillest roommate known to mankind. Shinsou barely even made a peep. Most of the time you found him relaxing in front of the TV watching murder documentaries. You did learn that the poor guy had insomnia and as a result was up almost every night. Sometimes you would catch him snoozing on the couch but that rarely lasted more than 2 or 3 hours before he was up and about once again. 

You did learn that the man was a lousy cook so he mostly lived on instant ramen before you moved in. Luckily for him, you enjoyed cooking and decided to be the one to make meals for the two of you. To say Shinsou was appreciative was an understatement. 

Simply put, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. 

And so bloomed an easy friendship with him. Shinsou made it easy to befriend, although he was a quiet guy he was funny and charismatic; the type of guy who probably had a lot of friends. 

You lived there for about a month when you noticed the first weird disappearance. 

You had been laying in bed, eyes closed as you slowly began to drift off to the white noise of your overhead fan. 

What lulled you from your daze was the beep of the alarm at the front door. Sitting up, you listened carefully only to hear a couple beeps and the click of the door shutting. 

Frowning, you got out of the bed and wrapped your blanket around your shoulders to shield yourself from the chilled apartment air. Your footsteps were silent as you padded your way to the entryway. You immediately noticed that Shinsou’s shoes were gone from where they should have been sitting beside the front door. 

You checked his bedroom to find that he was, indeed, not there. You simply assumed he had gone for a walk or to a convenience store or something since he couldn’t sleep and went back to bed. That was certainly not something uncommon for the insomniac you called a roommate. 

When you got up in the morning, however, you noticed he was still gone. 

You wandered into the kitchen, intending to open the fridge to start something for breakfast only to find a cute cat-themed sticky note plastered to the front of it. Written in your roommates sloppy handwriting was “I won’t be home for a few days.”

Short and to the point but still causing questions to arise in response. 

You had no choice but to carry on. You could text him and question him but you had a feeling you wouldn’t actually get any information. 

Two days was how long he was gone for. He turned on the second night, looking as tired as usual. 

“I’m home,” he called with a heavy sigh, kicking his shoes off before dropping the heavy duffle bag he carried to the floor. 

“Hey,” you greeted over the back of the couch, “I uh...made dinner but I didn’t make any for you. I didn’t know when you’d be home.”

“It’s fine, I already ate anyway,” he hummed, dropping his full weight onto the empty cushion beside you. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. 

You eyed him and decided to simply not ask about the hickey on his pale skin. 

The time ticked past midnight and you stood up, yawning as you stretched, “I’m heading to bed.”

“Alright,” he mumbled, finally stealing the remote from you, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Hey…” you paused at the entrance to the hallway, deciding to chance it, “Where did you go anyway?”

“...To work,” he replied, simply. 

His tone held a sense of finality to it, leaving no room for you to inquire exactly what that meant. So, with a final bid, you went to your bedroom. 

It was almost like deja vu, laying in bed as you fell asleep only to hear the beeping of that alarm. You sat up and climbed out of bed, intending to catch Shinsou before he was gone but as you reached the living room, you heard the front door click shut and he was gone. 

Sighing, you wandered to the kitchen to find another note like you’d seen last time stuck to the fridge. 

As you glanced at the calendar on the wall, you realized it was almost exactly a month since the last time he did this ― you remembered because he left on the 23rd and it was currently the 22nd. You could practically feel the dots forming but you had absolutely no way of connecting them. 

Deciding to retire to bed, you attempted to sleep but found yourself thinking of Shinsou. 

Two months in a row he vanished around the same time, in the middle of the night leaving only a note. Now that you thought about it, he didn’t seem to have a job ― he only said his disappearance was part of his job. But he came back with a hickey. 

Sighing, you rolled over and attempted to fall asleep. 

Two days later, he came home. 

“I’m back,” he grumbled. 

Immediately, you noted the aggravated tone to his voice. Sitting up from where you were sprawled out on the couch, you eyed him. Instead of just dropping his duffle bag like he had last time, he took it straight to the laundry room. 

As he disappeared into the kitchen, you got up and followed him. He was squatting on the floor, rummaging through the bag as he tossed out pieces of clothing. You leaned on the door jam with your arms folded on your chest. Whether or not he knew you were there, you didn’t know. 

“There’s some dinner left for you,” you said softly, watching him pause and look over his shoulder at you.

“I already ate,” he replied, voice cold. 

You frowned, standing up straight, “Alright, well…” you sighed, “I’ll wrap it up and put it in the fridge in case you get hungry tonight.”

He didn’t reply but you kept watching him. He moved to fully sit on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him with a grunt. You noticed that he was separating the clothes into two piles. Closer inspection brought your attention to the price tags attached to the clothes in one pile. 

You found yourself wondering where he got those clothes from but you decided not to ask. He seemed to be in a rather sour mood. 

He left the new clothes on the floor and dumped the others into the washing machine. With quick efficiency, he started the cycle and stuffed the remaining clothes back into his bag. 

You backed up to allow him to leave the laundry room. His shoulders were stiff and his posture was tense. It was a complete 180 from how you usually saw him. 

“You um...you alright?”  you finally asked when he sat down on the couch. 

He barely spared you a glance before propping his feet up on the coffee table, turning the TV on. Realizing you weren’t getting a response, you attempted to brush off the brief anger that flashed through you and instead went to the kitchen to clean everything up. 

You didn’t know why he was being so rude to you ― it’s not like you did anything to him. Deciding to just head to your bedroom to study, you shut off the kitchen light and skirted behind the couch to avoid getting in his way of the TV. 

He didn’t say a word as you disappeared down the hallway. 

As opposed to last time, his ‘work’ seemed to have not gone too well this time around. At least the last time, he was just tired and feeling lazy. 

You could still hear the TV going when you put all your stuff away and crawled into bed. 

The next morning, you awoke with a sigh. Sitting up, you stretched until you felt your joints pop.

As you wandered out of your bedroom, you heard the shower going, indicating Shinsou was still around. Not that you were expecting any different. 

You fixed a quick, simple breakfast for you and Shinsou, hearing the shower turn off as you finished. Wiping your washed hands on your pants, you made your way to the bathroom.

You only got to knock on the door once before it was yanked open. Suddenly, your mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. 

He stood there, his usual fluffy hair flattened and hanging haphazardly around his face. He wore his usual bored expression despite the fact he was standing there, dripping wet with only a towel around his waist. Immediately, you got a whiff of his body wash and shampoo, making you swallow thickly. 

Fuck, he smelled really good. You always thought so, when he sat on the couch beside you, you could always smell that delicious, musky scent of his body wash mixed with the spice of his cologne. But freshly washed with it, you were nearly salivating at the smell. 

“Um…” you swallowed thickly, tearing your gaze away from the well built muscles under those baggy clothes he always wore, “B-Breakfast is ready…”

“Okay,” he mumbled, moving to skirt around you. 

You sighed, assuming he was still in a shit mood again. Running a hand through your hair, you shook the delectable sight of him fresh out of the shower from your mind. As you went to go back to the kitchen, a large hand grappled around your wrist. 

“Hey,” he mumbled. You looked over your shoulder to see him nervously rubbing the back of his neck, a habit you’d seen numerous times before, “I’m sorry...about yesterday.”

“Huh?” you raised a brow, trying to ignore how big his hand was around your wrist. 

“I was in a shit mood and I took it out on you,” he explained, “So I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh,” you relaxed slightly and smiled, realizing he was actually in a decent mood today, “It’s okay.”

He gave you his own relieved smile, making your heart lurch in your chest at the sight. It was rare to see any other expression beyond that tired, bored look he always wore. Finally releasing his hold on your wrist, he spoke again, “Let me get dressed and I’ll come eat.”

“Alright,” you nodded, biting your lip as he turned his back to you. As he walked you could see the way the muscles flexed under the skin. 

When he finally vanished through his bedroom door, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Shaking your head you moved back to the kitchen intending to stuff your face to forget about how hot Hitoshi Shinsou really was. 

Before, you thought he was good looking. Usually dark circles were unbecoming but they looked almost at home on his face. His skin was nearly flawless and looked soft to the touch ― you’d seen the skincare products housed in his cabinet. It was expensive shit too. Seriously, what was the guy's job?

That thought had your mind wandering back to the monthly disappearances. 

The chair scraped against the floor as he came back ― wearing a baggy t-shirt and black sweats. He immediately dug in and began to eat. 

“So...I have to ask,” he paused, brows coming together in a scowl as you uttered those words.

“Don’t ask,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“I just wanted to ask...if this is a monthly thing. I’ve only been here for 2 so...I just wanted to make sure,” you clarified, watching his shoulder relax. He seemed extremely defensive over any questions related to his ‘job’, you noted. 

“Yeah. Once at the end of the month I leave for two days to work,” he answered simply, obviously avoiding giving any more information that you could feed off of. 

He was smart at least. 

The sun finally dipped below the horizon and the two of you were sitting on the couch watching TV. He had some documentary on but truthfully you weren’t paying a whole lot of attention to it. 

For some reason, your mind kept bringing you back to the sight that morning of Shinsou. As you looked at him sitting beside you, arm tossed casually over the back of the couch as he slouched with his legs spread, you found yourself admiring him. 

He had a sharp jaw and pretty lips. A look lower, your eyes landed on his hands ― long, pretty fingers with prominent veins beneath the pale skin. 

Suddenly, his sharp gaze cut from the TV to you and you found yourself locked in a gaze with him for a split second before you broke away to look at the TV once more. In your peripheral, you swear you saw a smirk crossing his face. 

But he didn’t comment and for that, you were thankful. 

You bid him goodnight and as usual, he stayed up. You began to wonder if the man even tried to sleep anymore. 

You stepped into the bathroom, warning your roommate that you were taking a shower. He shouted back a simple ‘okay’ before you shut the door. 

You stepped under the stream of water after stripping, the steam of the hot water filling the bathroom and relaxing your muscles. You tipped your head back to wet your hair, humming to yourself. 

You eyed Shinsou’s body wash sitting in the purple caddy handing on a hook on the wall. It brought you back to how nice he smelled when he was close to you. When you could feel his body warmth radiating off of him. You would look at him, his shoulders broad and his body warm and inviting. It was nearly impossible to resist the urge to cuddle yourself into his chest. 

You wondered what it would be like to lay against him, his arms wrapped around you as he softly stroked your skin. Maybe he would press a soft kiss to your forehead ― the idea alone made you melt. 

Realizing you had lost yourself in thought, you hurried to finish your shower and get to bed. 

You fell asleep with Shinsou on your mind that night. 

Shinsou’s third monthly work time finally rolled around once again. This time, you stayed up late so Shinsou had no choice but the interact before he left. You were hoping to maybe get more hints about what it is he did. 

He shut his bedroom door, hoisting his duffle bag over his shoulder with a grunt. You were surprised to see him in actual clothes ― rather nice ones as well. 

His jeans fit him perfectly and the button down shirt he wore was tucked in, showing off his lean figure. The belt buckle on his jeans indicated it was name brand and you found yourself wondering how much his job even paid. 

“I’ll be home same as usual,” he mumbled, bending down to slide his shoes on at the door. He looked so good doing just a simple task and you found your heart racing in your chest. His shoulders were accented so well by his shirt. The sleeves were rolled up halfway on his forearms and there was an expensive looking watch on one of his wrists. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he opened the door ― suddenly finding that you didn’t want him to leave. 

“Um…” you called, making him pause in the open door, looking over his shoulder with a brow raised in question, “You...uh…” you struggled to find something to say but he waited patiently for you to form your next words, “Have a nice time...come home soon.”

Your heart thudded painfully as you watched his gaze soften, a smile forming on his lips as he nodded, “I’ll see you later, ______.”

Your ears were ringing as he shut the door, the sound of your name coming from his lips echoing in your head. You sunk down onto the couch, hand on your chest as you came to a startling realization. 

You had a crush on your roommate. 

Living with Shinsou after coming to terms that you had a crush on him was...difficult to say the least. Simple things he did that you used to pay no mind to, you now found yourself getting jittery at the sight. 

Like the way he rubbed his eyes with a fist when he woke up from a nap on the couch, a sound you could only describe as a whine coming from his throat as he sat up. 

The day your kitchen sink stopped working and he had to fix it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. He was leaning beneath the sink, in the cabinet on his back as he fiddled with some tools on the pipes. His white t-shirt became see-through as he sweat from the hard work, his biceps flexing with every movement he made. His shirt rode up a bit over his stomach, exposing his abs that moved and rippled with every movement. His sweats were riding low on his hips, exposing that delicious v-line and happy trail that vanished beneath the band.

The worst part was the way you could see everything in those gray sweatpants he wore. You were pretty sure he wasn’t wearing any underwear. 

You had to leave the room and hide in your bedroom with the window open until he finally finished fixing it. 

You definitely didn’t let your hand slide down your panties to the mental image of him that night. 

Despite living together for nearly four months, you knew close to nothing personal about Shinsou. Putting aside his weird, shady two-day job once a month, you didn’t have anything else to go off of on who he was. 

He was a quiet guy who liked documentaries, video games, and had insomnia. He really loved to eat breakfast foods and cats. Although you hadn’t been in his room even once, only had a couple peeks inside, you knew he owned some cat-themed stationary at the very least. 

Despite his cold appearance, he was actually quite kindhearted and gentle but seemed to have no desire to show it unless necessary. One time, you cut your finger while cooking and you swear you’d never seen him run faster to get a bandaid from the bathroom ― one with a cat on it, no less. 

You still remember the feeling of his hand holding yours and how close his face was as he inspected the cut. You could have leaned in and kissed him so easily then. 

And god was that tempting. 

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the glass you were holding in your hand slipped free until it shattered in a million pieces across the linoleum floor. You gasped, startled as you looked around for a way to escape but a single step in an area you thought was clear brought a cry from your lips as you stepped on the tiny shards. 

You heard a loud thump from the living room where he had been playing a video game before the thundering footsteps raced into the kitchen. Shinsou’s eyes were wide, like he was terrified of what he would find. 

“Don’t move,” he snapped, noting the way you leaned against the counter to take your injured foot off of the ground. He opened the storage cabinet and pulled out the broom and dust pan. 

It took only a few minutes for him to clean it up enough to get to you safely on his own bare feet. Instead of you limping your way to the living room however, you found yourself swept off your feet. 

Your heart raced so hard, you could hear it pounding in your ears. You were cradled against his chest, so warm and firm with his strong arms beneath your knees and shoulders. His heavenly scent surrounded you ― more intense than you’d even smelt it before. As you finally got a close look, you took notice of how his long lashes framed his pretty eyes. 

All too soon, you were placed on the couch and he was disappearing down the hall with quick efficiency. You were still stunned from being in his arms that you barely noticed he had returned until he was on his knees in front of you. 

Immediately, your cheeks bloomed hot with a blush. The image of him on his knees like that immediately sent your mind to a wicked place. 

Luckily your dirty mind was stopped in its tracks when he began pulling glass from your foot.

You gasped in pain, attempting to pull away on reflex but he held strong, sharp gaze burning holes into you.

“Sit still,” he growled, sending a shiver down your spine. 

His voice was so low, so commanding that you found yourself immediately doing what he said. You always were weak to a dominant man. 

Soon enough, your foot was cleaned and he deemed that the bleeding had stopped.

“It’ll probably hurt like hell for a little while when you walk on it,” he warned, packing the first aid away. 

“Thanks Hitoshi,” you smiled, earning a soft nod of acknowledgement from the man. 

The memory of being in his arms, even for that brief moment, was imprinted in your mind. As you laid in bed, you thought about it. It made your stomach flutter in excitement as you fell asleep. 

The fourth monthly job for Shinsou came and unfortunately, you missed him leaving. You had stayed up studying and as a result fell asleep earlier than usual. When you woke up he was already gone and you were left with a painful throb in your heart. 

You missed him. 

As you lazed on the couch, you found your mind wandering to him again. Like always. It was like your mind was cursed. 

You wondered if he thought about you at all. The idea made you feel giddy and you had to bite back a smile. You felt like a silly schoolgirl with your crush ― the way he made your stomach flutter, your heart race, and your cheeks burn was getting ridiculous. It wasn’t like you could confess, he hadn’t given much of a hint that he even thought of you as a friend. Plus, you weren’t sure if you were willing to give up the killer apartment and perfect roommate gig you currently had with a foolish confession. 

You heaved a sigh, sitting up with a new idea in mind. 

A way that you could learn more about him.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the...most noble means. 

Standing outside his bedroom door, you bit your lip. It felt wrong to go into his room without permission. It wasn’t like he went into your room ― as far as you knew, who knows what he did while you were at school or working. 

The metal doorknob was cold in your palm as you turned it and pushed it open with a soft click.

You’d seen his room in quick glances before when he opened it but you’d never gotten to fully inspect it. He had a large bed that took up the most space in his room. Situated on a dresser at the end of the bed was a TV, a Playstation set up beside it. Against the opposite wall was a desk with a gaming computer setup and a red and black gaming chair pushed in neatly. 

There were a few articles of clothing littering the floor around his laundry basket and his closet was partly open to reveal his primarily monochromatic wardrobe choices. 

Walking into the bedroom, you immediately got a whiff of his cologne, making you smile at the addictive scent. You took a seat on the edge of his bed, the black comforter incredibly soft beneath your hands. 

You leaned forward and opened his nightstand drawer, finding nothing too interesting ― a picture of him standing with a smiling boy with crazy green hair, a pink-skinned girl, and a beaming red-haired guy. 

You hadn’t really given it much thought ― that he had friends. He didn’t really talk about anyone, in fact you never heard him mention anyone in his life besides his mom a few times. You did note that he texted on his phone quite a lot and sometimes you could hear him laughing and cursing from his bedroom as he played a video game. You wondered what his friends' names were, what they were like ― what it was like to be friends with Shinsou. 

What you wouldn’t give to be someone...important in his life. 

Sighing, you closed the drawer and moved to his dresser. Your own thoughts caused your heart to ache and you tried to brush it off by looking through the drawers for something interesting. 

Fortunately, you got what you wished for. 

The last drawer to the right contained a little black metal box buried beneath some clothes. You pulled it out and took a seat on the floor, pressing the button to open it. It popped open and you gaped at what you saw. 

It was filled with money. More money than you’d probably ever seen in your whole life. The bills were wrapped together with rubber bands ― there had to be thousands of dollars in even a single stack. As you pulled out the bundles, you found that there were things located beneath them. 

Jewels; all types. Diamond rings, necklaces, bracelets, ruby and emerald gems decorating them. You pulled out a ring and held it up, watching as he gleamed under the light. 

You tucked everything back inside the box and hid it back the way you found it, shutting the drawer before standing up. 

You had no idea what to think as you shut his door once again, moving to your own room. How could he have all that money hidden away like that? It was certainly shady. 

Perhaps it was counterfeit? Or maybe he stole it! 

And what about those jewels? Did he steal those too? Why were they hidden instead of sold off somewhere?

You had so many questions and absolutely no answers. 

Suddenly you were regretting going snooping in his room. 

The fifth month of living with him would have to be where things started to go downhill. 

He came home from his weekend away, tired and grumpy, just wanting a relaxing shower. However, you hadn’t realized he was home so in your tired, sleep-filled daze you stumbled to the bathroom with the urgent need to pee. 

You pushed the bathroom door open and halted in your tracks, heart stopping in your chest at the sight of shirtless Shinsou. 

He had his back to you, displaying the angry red scratch marks that raked down the pale skin of his back, making them stand out even more. He realized you were there and spun around, eyes narrowed in a glare. With his chest in view, you could see all the hickeys and bites that trailed down  his body, disappearing in the hem of his jeans that he had yet to shed.

“Get the hell out,” he snapped, ripping the door from your hand before slamming in shut in your face. 

You stared at the wood for several, long seconds, stunned. You heard the shower start and snapped out of your daze. Forgetting your once desperate need to pee, you trudged back to your  bedroom and quietly shut the door. 

You weren’t a fool ― you knew exactly what those marks meant. You crawled under the covers and found yourself wondering what kind of woman got Hitoshi Shinsou’s attention enough to get him into bed. 

And what did she have that you didn’t?

Truth be told, you couldn’t even imagine him as the type to sleep around. He wasn’t exactly sociable and he rarely seemed to go out of his way to interact even with his friends.

You could hear the shower turn off and you were suddenly reminded of the way he slammed the door in your face ― the ache from realizing he’d been with someone else only exacerbated by the knife of his shouting at you. 

You closed your eyes and attempted to sleep, ignoring the sting behind your eyes. 

The next morning, you found yourself not wanting to get out of bed. You could hear Shinsou shuffling around the house, doing god knows what. You heard him walk down the hallway, heart freezing as he stopped in front of your bedroom door. 

You closed your eyes, willing him to go away. 

Luck was not on your side, however, as he knocked thrice on your door. It was loud enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to feign sleeping through it. 

You sighed and crawled out of bed and trudged over to the door, pulling it open just a bit to get a look at him. 

He had his head down, hand clasped around the nape of his neck with his other hand shoved in his pocket. He looked up when he heard the door open, brows drawn together as he gazed at you partially hiding behind the door. 

“I uh…” he cleared his throat, “I went out and picked us up some breakfast.”

“Oh…” you shifted on your feet awkwardly, nodding your head, “Thanks...I’ll eat later.”

You were about to close the door, desperate to escape the burning in your eyes as you remembered last night. Before it could close, however, he shoved his hand in the crack. You paused, not wanting to crush his hand in the door. You let him push it open to show more of you ― clad in shorts and an oversized t-shirt that you loved to sleep in. Thankfully the shirt was big enough that he wouldn’t be able to tell you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“I have to apologize,” he grunted, meeting your gaze, “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that last night. I was just ticked off…” he trailed off.

You bit your lip, “I uh...I didn’t know you were home...so that’s why I just...walked in…” 

He shook his head, “No I understand, really. Y-You just surprised me and I reacted. I really need to stop taking my shit out on you, I’ll work on that, really. I shouldn’t have slammed the door like that either. It was a shit night but it wasn’t your fault you didn’t know I came home.”

“I-It’s alright, Hitoshi, really,” you smiled, though it faltered a bit at the memory of those scratches and hickeys.

“I...hope you’re not hiding away in here because I upset you,” he muttered, making you frown once more.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

He bit his lip, looking away awkwardly, “you’re usually up around 10 and it’s...getting close to noon. You don’t do that normally so...I can only think you were trying to avoid me and that’s the last thing I want. This is your home too and I never want you to feel like you can’t be comfortable here.”

You gaped at him, processing what he was telling you. First, he paid close enough attention to you that he knew what time you got up ― that thought made happiness bloom in your chest and second, that was probably the most you’d heard him say in one sitting.

“It’s okay now, Hitoshi,” you smiled, “let me get dressed and I’ll be out to eat, okay?”

He smiled, making your cheeks burn at the sight as he nodded, turning away from you to move back to the living room. You closed your door and sighed. 

It was crazy how just a simple smile from him had your heart fluttering. However, it was quickly halted by the memory that he had someone ― maybe it was a girlfriend. That made your chest ache and you bit your lip to halt those negative feelings as you stripped and changed out of your pajamas. 

You had no idea how you were going to get past the painful clench in your chest every time you looked at him now. 

Month six rolled around and nothing very interesting happened. Shinsou moved his playstation into the living room so the two of you could play some games together. It was a fun bonding experience and you got to watch the way his eyes would light up whenever he beat you. The sound of his laugh still rang in your ears and you couldn’t help but smile every time you thought back to that pretty smile of his. 

It became a weekly thing for the two of you, every Friday night you would sit down on the couch together and play into the early hours of the morning. You got to know more about Shinsou than you had ever before. 

Sometimes he would jerk his body and brush against yours, sending goosebumps across your skin. He was always so warm and inviting ― just having him near you sent your poor heart into palpitations. 

You almost forgot about what happened the previous month when he came back ― those hickeys and scratches on his back finally having been cast out of your mind. 

Your heart did ache when you bid him goodbye the night he left again, wondering if he was going to see her or not. 

The seventh month was when that already precariously balanced life came crumbling down all at once. 

Shinsou was in the shower as you played on his Playstation, sitting in front of the TV with a frown on your face. You could hear the shower running and in the back of your mind you pictured what he might look like ― water running down his flawless skin, his hands caressing. You felt an almost pitiful clench in your core at the mental image. 

Your perversions were cut short by the sharp ring of the doorbell. You paused your game and groaned as you stood up, your knees popping from being sat in the same position for too long. Unlocking the door, you pulled it open and paused. 

A woman stood on the other side of the door, a well-fitting black dress and fur coat wrapped around her shoulders. Her ears, neck, and wrists were adorned with sparkling jewelry and you could see the red bottoms of her expensive heels. She wore vibrant red lipstick across pretty, smiling lips as she acknowledged you. However, you could see the cold gleam in her eyes that made the smile all too fake. 

“Can I help you?” you asked, leaning against the door jam. 

She hummed, tucking some hair behind her ear with perfectly manicured nails, “Is Toshi here?”

“Toshi?” you raised a brow at the nickname, “He’s in the shower. What do you need?”

“Just to talk,” she replied, stepping forward like she wanted to come in. When you didn’t budge she raised a brow, “You don’t mind if I come in, right? I’m sure Toshi would love to see me.”

“Uh…” you didn’t get a chance to reply as she brushed past you, her shoes clicking on the hardwood floor as she made her way towards the living room, “Sure...come on in…” you whispered sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you shut the door. 

You could hear the shower was turned off, indicating Shinsou would be returning in a minute. You looked at the woman as she glanced around the apartment, feeling a sting of jealousy burning within you. 

Was she the girl he was dating?

“So...how do you know Hitoshi?” you asked, making her smile. 

“I’m his girlfriend, of course!” she beamed, voice far too peppy for your liking.

The words sent an arrow through your heart and you looked away with a hum, ignoring the need to flee to your room and cry into the pillow like a stupid middle schooler. 

As if on cue, the bathroom door opened and Shinsou strolled down the hall, towling his hair as he moved. 

Any other time you would have drooled over the sight of a shirtless Shinsou, gym shorts hanging loose on his hips as he walked.

“Uh...Hitoshi…” you mumbled, getting his attention. 

He looked up from beneath his towel, meeting your gaze before his eyes moved to the woman beside you. Immediately his eyes went wide and he stood up straight. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snapped, startling you with how aggressive those words came out. 

The girl didn’t seem too affected, merely pouting as she spoke, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“You have no business being here,” he growled, jerking his head to the door, “Get out.”

“No!” she argued, walking right up to him, “I deserve answers before you throw me away like trash, Hitoshi!”

“I don’t owe you anything,” he replied coldly, breezing past both you and her to go to the kitchen. She followed him but you remained in the kitchen, listening as they argued.

“Why won’t you see me anymore?!” she cried, petulantly stomping her heeled foot. 

“Because you got too damn attached,” he spat, opening the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water before walking into the living room again. 

“Attached?!” she gasped, grabbing his arm to force him to look at her, “I have given you so much. How can you just break it off without a real reason! Come on, Toshi, just...be with me, you won’t have to work anymore.”

He tensed, glancing over at you at the mention of her job, jaw set, “Just get out, Kana.”

She looked over at you, a sly smile forming on her lips, “She doesn’t know what you do, does she? Is that why you’re avoiding this?”

He didn’t reply, simply glared at her. Kana scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “After all I spent on you, you have no right to just run away. You know I can treat you better than anyone else can, Hitoshi. You’re making a mistake.”

“I have plenty of other clients lined up, Kana,” he shot back, making her frown. He chuckled at the sign of weakness she showed, “What? Did you think you were the only one? No, sweetheart, I have plenty of girls waiting to spend even just one night with me. You’re not special. You’re certainly not the highest paying one either. There’s nothing of importance tying me to you. You have nothing special to offer. You got too attached, starting having feelings for me...you know it would never work with my job. So just leave before you get your feelings hurt.”

Both of you were stunned silent. You because you had never heard him speak so coldly and harshly to someone before ― even when he was having a bad day and accidentally took it out on you. Her because the words he spat out with such venom wrecked her pride and made her burn with anger. 

She clenched her fists and snapped her head towards you, “Best not to get close to this prick,” she warned, her voice watery with unshed tears, “A man who makes money being a sugar baby isn’t one you want to get attached too.”

With those last words, she stormed out. The slam of the door made both you and Shinsou flinch. The silence that followed was even more deafening, however. 

Shinsou cursed under his breath, running a hand through his half-dry hair.

“So...she wasn’t your girlfriend?” you asked, making him look over at you. 

He was quiet for a second before chuckling under his breath, “You learn what my job is and that's the first thing you wonder?”

“Well!” you defended yourself quickly, “She introduced herself as your girlfriend!”

He shook his head, moving around the couch to take a seat, “No, she was just...a client I spent time with for a while. She started catching feelings so I cut it off and referred her to a friend of mine. Apparently...she didn’t like that.”

“How’d she know you lived here?” you asked, sitting beside him.

He shrugged, “She could have looked through my shit at some point, I suppose.”

You hummed, not wanting to push him to reveal more than he wanted to. After all, it wasn’t even his choice to expose his line of work anyway. 

Well, at least you had answers on why he had all those expensive clothes, cash, and jewelry. It was good to know he wasn’t some type of shady thief in the end. 

“It’s...just a really bad idea to get involved with clients,” he explained suddenly, “It’s not a relationship that’s built up on anything real. Having to pay for the company of someone is not a good foundation,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair again before looking at you, “I hope you...don’t think differently of me because of my job.”

You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head, “It’s not really my place to judge you, you know?”

“Thanks,” he smiled, “It’s not really something that’s as bad as people think. It gets a bad rep for having sex for money and shit but...truthfully majority of my job is just...being company to rich women. Sometimes they want to take me around to some fancy parties to show me off or go on dates because they’re lonely. Sex isn’t the majority of what I do. I mean...I will but...it’s not the most common occurrence.”

Once again, the vision of those hickeys and sex-scratches crossed your mind and you found yourself wondering what kind of woman gave him those. At least you could be assured he wasn’t going out to see his girlfriend when he went to work ― they were strictly clients.

Which meant...he was probably single. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest at the hopeful idea. 

“How about I order some take out?” you asked, standing up to retrieve your phone. 

“Get some pizza,” he called as you disappeared down the hall. 

After his occupation was revealed to you, things began to look up. He became more open and carefree around you ― as he no longer had a big secret to hide. He didn’t really talk about his work but he wasn’t hiding it from you either. 

You decided not to ask too many questions, knowing you’d only burn up in jealousy at the idea. You knew you didn’t really have a right to be jealous since you weren’t his girlfriend or anything but you couldn’t help it either. 

The peaceful feeling didn’t last long, however. Once the fire started burning, it had no other choice but to rage. 

“You should really just tell him, _____!” your friend, Uraraka whined, head against the table.

“It’s seriously painful,” Momo agreed, “All this pining is making me sick.”

“Oh real nice,” you rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your coffee. 

It felt nice to hang around with your friends for once ― it wasn’t something you frequently got the opportunity to do. 

Just as Uraraka was about to open her mouth and reply, a looming shadow dropped over the table. You all looked over to find the familiar blonde hair and wide grin.

“Kaminari,” you greeted with a smile.

“Hey _____,” he waved before tucking his hands in his pockets, “Listen, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while but...would you like to go out with me sometime?”

The question left you stunned. 

You weren’t super close to Denki Kaminari, you shared a few general studies classes. He was a goofy, excitable guy who always seemed to know how to light up a room. Everyone around him was always in a good mood, in general he was just a very positive person. 

Not just that but he wasn’t too bad to look at either; with his pretty, wide eyes and sharp jawline. The black lightning bolt streak through his hair just made him look even more charming. 

But you hesitated, your mind drifting to Shinsou. 

Sighing, you bit your lip, “Can I get back to you on that?”

He smiled, nodding his head, obviously relieved you didn’t tell him a flat out no, “No problem. I’ll see you later!”

Once he was gone, a sharp smack landed on your back making you cry out.

“Why didn’t you give him an answer?!” Momo cried.

“Denki’s a great guy, _____! You should do it!” Uraraka added.

You shrugged, “It’s just…”

“If you’re holding out hoping something will miraculously happen with stupid Shinsou, it’s a stupid idea,” Momo said, making you pout that she had read you so easily.

“Just tell him how you feel, _____,” Uraraka sighed, “If he rejects you, you can accept Denki’s date!”

You sighed but didn’t reply. Your two friends shared a look before changing the topic, drawing the attention away from your hopeless crush on your roommate. 

When you got home, you were filled with a sense of urgency. Shinsou wasn’t in the living room so you went to his bedroom, knocking a few times on the door before he opened it. 

“Hey,” he greeted, a tired smile on his face, “Welcome home.”

“Hitoshi,” you swallowed thickly, steeling yourself.

He frowned, “What is it?”

“I need to talk to you,” you breathed.

“Okay,” he stepped aside, waving you into his room.

You hesitated for a second, realizing that there would be no turning back once you walked inside. The door shutting behind you echoed in your head. He moved past you to take a seat on his computer chair. The screen was lit up behind him, indicating he had probably been playing something before you interrupted. 

“I’m all ears,” he said softly, relaxing back in his seat.

“I…” you shifted on your feet, biting your lip, “I got asked out on a date.”

He raised his brow, cocking his head to the side. Part of you had hoped you would see some hint of jealousy from him at your words but his face remained as steely as ever.

“And...you want advice or something?” he chuckled.

You shook your head, “I want to know if…” you took in a deep breath, “If you like me before I accept him.”

He was silent for what felt like an eternity, just staring at you. Shinsou was always the type of man to think before he spoke, running through all possibilities before opening his mouth. His throat moved as he swallowed, a soft sigh coming from his nose.

“You...have a crush on me, or something?” he asked, making you deflate slightly.

“Yes,” you admitted, “And...if you don’t like me back then I’ll accept this boy’s date. There’s no reason for me to wait around and hope you’ll like me back when I could be out meeting someone new.”

He nodded his head, quieting once more. You watched as he stood up, taking a few steps towards you, “_____…” you heart clenched at his tone, knowing what was coming, “My job...it doesn’t leave me room for personal relationships.”

Despite how much you prepared yourself for it, hearing him reject you hurt. You nodded, forcing yourself not to cry as you backed up towards the door.

“Alright then,” you gave him a tight-lipped smile, turning your back to him, “I guess I’ll accept Kaminari’s date then.”

As you walked out his door, you didn’t see the pained look in his eyes. Your name lingered on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t dare speak out. The click of his door was deafening in his ears and when you were gone he sighed, hanging his head as he sat on the edge of his bed, feeling like an idiot. 

The next day, you hunted down Kaminari, telling him you’d love to go out on a date with him. He was thrilled, going off excitedly about how he couldn’t believe you actually accepted him and that he would make it the best date ever. 

And truth be told, the date was a blast. You had told him you’d never been to laser tag before and immediately he said that was exactly what you do then. The sound of Denki’s laughter still echoed in your ears as he lost to you, accusing you of cheating in a lighthearted tone. 

You didn’t see much of Shinsou after you started seeing Kaminari. Although it was casual, you spent a good bit of time hanging out with him ― he began eating with you, Uraraka, and Momo on campus and the two of you texted often. 

It seemed that Shinsou wasn’t making a big effort to hang out with you anyway. As much as that hurt, you knew it was for the best. It spared you a lot of hurt and him of the awkwardness of living with a girl who had a crush on him. 

It was fair enough, you mused. 

But when you laid in bed at night, your phone on silent and the faint sound of Shinsou’s voice floating through the walls as he gamed with his friends, you felt the now familiar tug on your heart. You longed to be with him. 

But you knew it was pointless now. 

You’d been seeing Kaminari for a month when he showed up on your doorstep to pick you up. Usually you would leave and meet him but due to the rain, he opted to pick you up and save you both from the hassle. 

You were in your room, putting the final touches on your makeup when the doorbell rang. Before you could react, you heard Shinsou open the door. 

You quickly grabbed your purse, tossing the strap over your shoulder as you opened your door. You could hear their voices carrying down the hallway.

“Holy shit!” Kaminari laughed, “What a small world ― it’s been a while Hitoshi!”

“Denki,” Shinsou greeted curtly. 

“You ______’s roommate?” Kaminari asked, tucking his hands in his pockets as he waited for you, “She’s talked about you a bit. Didn’t know it was you, though, man!”

“Denki―” Shinsou was about to say something more but was cut off by your entrance.

“Hey there babydoll!” Kaminari greeted with a grin, holding his hand out for you to take, “See you later, Hitoshi!”

Shinsou didn’t respond as he watched the two of you leave, his jaw set tight as he held himself back from calling out. 

-

You felt like you’d never been more angry in your life as you stormed home. Things had been going so well between you and Kaminari, you felt like you could genuinely start to like him. You enjoyed his company and began to think less and less about one purple haired roommate of yours. 

You slammed the front door, startling poor Shinsou on the couch. He turned around, eyes wide at the blazing anger visible on your face.

“What the hell is your problem, Shinsou?!” you cried, kicking your shoes off and tossing your backpack to the floor.

“Huh?” he raised a brow dumbly, only fanning the flames of your rage. 

“You…” you heaved, fists clenched, “Who do you think you are?! Telling Denki to break it off with me?!”

Realization quickly flashed over his face and he groaned, standing up, “I didn’t tell him to break up with you!” he argued. You opened your mouth to retort but he put his hand up to stop you, “I just told him to think it over. Do you know how we know each other, ____?”

“No,” you shook your head, tossing your hands up, “What does it matter? You still have no right to interfere in my relationship!”

“He’s in the same line of work I am!” he snapped, rounding the couch, “He does the same exact thing I do.”

You paused, letting the information sink in, “Why does that matter?”

He shook his head, “Do you really want to be with a guy who spends his nights in bed with women, _____? That’s not exactly the easiest job to trust a man with.”

You didn’t have a retort, “I thought...the majority of the job was just being a companion.”

Shinsou sighed, taking a seat once more, “It really depends on the guy. Denki is pretty popular because he loves to get his dick wet.”

You thought those words would make you feel jealous. The idea of the guy you were seeing fucking other women should make you feel something but instead...you felt almost relieved. Still, it didn’t simmer the anger you felt towards Shinsou at putting his nose in your business.

“You should have come to me and told me your concerns, Shinsou,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, “Instead of going behind my back for me to be dumped.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, biting his lip, “I just...wanted to see if Denki was still the same as he was when I last knew him. It’s just how it happened. I am sorry.”

Sensing his apology was sincere, you relaxed and nodded, “I’ve got to study.”

With that, you hid away in your room. 

You couldn’t deny you still felt a bit ticked off with him but at least you were able to move past it. You realized you weren’t truly attached to Kaminari, you were just using him to shove your feelings for Shinsou away ― a pretty dick move on your part. So you were relieved to be out of the relationship.

Unfortunately, this left you with Shinsou once more. Where he once was pushed from your mind for the most part, he now resumed plaguing your thoughts. 

You couldn’t deny how tired you were. 

It was emotionally exhausting feeling your heart race at the mere sight of him only for it to ache when you remembered there was no chance in hell he’d even give you the time of day. 

Things reached a head when he returned from work. Eleven months in and all the negative feelings and tension finally culminated. 

“Hey Shinsou,” you called, finding him leaning against the kitchen island with a cereal bar in his hands. 

He looked over his shoulder, an unusually cold look in his eyes as he regarded you, “What?”

You tried not to flinch at the tone, frowning, “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” he snapped and you sighed, realizing he was in one of his moods, “What do you want?”

“I...nevermind,” you shrugged, “We’ll talk when you’re in a better mood.”

You hadn’t meant for it to be something to piss him off further. You truly meant that you would wait until he felt better to talk. For some reason, however, he took it wrong.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” he growled, pushing himself off of the counter to storm up to you.

“Nothing!” you defended, “I don’t want to get into anything with you, okay?”

“If you have something to say then just say it!” he snapped, making you shake your head.

“No!” you argued, turning on your heel to storm into your bedroom. 

Before you could get very far, however, a tight hand was wrapped around your elbow, pulling you back.

“Don’t fucking run from me!” his tone sent shivers down your spine, the angry fire burning in his eyes finally snapping something inside you.

“I am so fucking tired of this!” you tore your arm from his grip, not missing the frustrated grunt he gave in response, “This shit isn’t working anymore, Shinsou! You clearly don’t know what the hell to do with yourself; you come home from working and you’re in a shit mood and you take it out on me. Then you act like everything is perfectly fine. You know how I feel about you, so you can’t even pretend that doesn’t have anything to do with your behavior. In fact, I know it affects you because why else would you have convinced the only guy I’ve seen in the past like two years to dump me like trash! All over this stupid fucking job of yours. I don’t want to deal with the shitty way you make me feel, Shinsou!”

“So?” he snapped, teeth bared.

“So I’m gonna fucking move out!” you threatened, standing nose to nose with him.

His eyes narrowed and he let out a humourless laugh, “Fine! The sooner the better!”

With those last words he stormed past you, slamming his bedroom door with deafening finality. 

You were left alone in the living room, fists clenched as tears you’d held back so long finally broke free. 

A stupid purple haired idiot was not worth being hurt so much over. That you were sure of. 

It’s not like he even cared, apparently. 

With that thought finally pushing you into action, you returned to your own room to begin looking for new housing. 

In all your time living with him, the longest you went without seeing him was two days. Once a month when he went to work ― that was the only length of time you didn’t see him every day. 

Now, however, the two of you were avoiding each other like the plague. You had been busting your ass finding a new apartment, going to school, and working as usual. Shinsou had been hiding in his room the majority of the time. 

You even stopped cooking. 

Part of you wondered if he even noticed. Deep down, however, you knew he probably didn’t care. 

He would just get a new roommate and go on like usual. Like you had never existed. 

At least you’d be able to get over him then. 

It took a month before you found a decent place. It was nowhere near as nice as your current one but there was nothing you could do about that. Your situation with Shinsou was unique and you knew you were never gonna have an opportunity like this again. 

You came to terms with that. 

Wandering out of your room, you were surprised to find him sitting on the couch. His nose was buried in his phone but the TV played his usual shows. 

“Hey,” you greeted, keeping your voice even. He grunted in response, not looking up, “I found a place. I’ll be out by the end of the week.”

He didn’t say anything and you sighed, feeling your eyes burn. 

How you wished he would say something to stop you ― to show you that the past year wasn’t a huge waste of time and that you really meant nothing to him. You felt you could have at least called yourselves friends but...apparently that was one sided. 

The thought hurt so you escaped to your room once again to hide. 

The night before your move, you were laying in bed playing a game on your phone. Laying on your back, you held the screen up and tapped your thumbs aggressive against the screen. Your momentum was lost by three sharp knocks on your door. You cried out as your phone fell from your hand and dropped on your face. 

“Shit,” you groaned, tossing it away and getting up from bed. 

Opening the door, your words caught in your throat at the sight of Hitoshi Shinsou’s sleepy gaze fixated on you. His hand was clasped around the nape of his neck and he was looking away nervously. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” his head snapped towards you, eyes wide before you realized how that sounded, “I-I mean I thought you were supposed to be gone! You know...to work.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he shrugged, “I cancelled. I...wanted...no, I needed to talk to you. Can I come in?”

You stood there for a few seconds, thinking it over before stepping aside to let him in. He gave you a tight lipped smile before you shut the door behind him. Turning to face him, you took note of the way his free hand was shoved into his sweats pocket. The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. 

“What...what did you need?” you asked, sitting on the edge of your bed. 

He remained standing, obviously thinking over his words carefully. His back was to you, his figure hunched slightly in his usual posture. But you couldn’t miss the tension his form held. 

“I never intended this to become a long-term thing,” for a moment you thought he was talking about your living arrangement but before you could refute, he was turning to you, “This sugar baby thing, that is. I had a friend who did it and made some good money from it and eventually I got into the scene and realized just how good it could pay. It’s been like 2 or 3 years now since I’ve been at it.”

He dropped his hand from around his neck, beginning to pace around your room to gaze at your various knick-knacks. He paused at the few boxes you had packed up already, a frown marring his face.

“I make even more money by selling the presents I get. Sometimes the clients will give me jewelry or clothes, I always sell them,” he sighed, picking up a snow globe that sat atop your dresser, shaking it mindlessly to watch the fake snow float around the glass. 

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked softly.

“The truth is, I hate the majority of my job,” he confessed, ignoring your question, “Most of the people are pretentious assholes who think they’re better than me because they pay me. I don’t mind being arm candy, it doesn’t really bother me. And not gonna lie sometimes the sex is bomb,” he chuckled almost lifelessly and you ignored the pang in your chest at his words, “But the position I’m in forces me to basically do whatever they want me to. Naturally, I have limits and shit but if they want to dominate me I let them and that sucks.”

“Hitoshi,” you grumbled, making him look at you, “Why are you telling me about your sexual preferences?”

“Oh right…” he shook his head, “I hate doing it because I don’t have much control in my life because of it,” he looked at you with fierce eyes, “That’s why...I want to say fuck it.”

Before you could respond, he was walking up to you, cupping your cheek in a warm hand. Your eyes were wide, staring up at him as he moved close to you, his lips brushing yours. 

“It’s been so fucking painful letting you go,” he whispered, “Having to reject you and let you go out with fucking Denki nearly broke me down, not gonna lie. I didn’t want him to hurt you, that’s why I interfered...but I also...didn’t want to let him have you when I wanted you so damn bad myself.”

Your heartbeat stuttered as you stared up at him, wide eyed, “D-Does that mean you…”

He nodded, “Shit, I’ve liked you for so long, _____. It’s been so hard not telling you how I feel every single day.”

“Hitoshi,” you likced your lips, reaching up to fist the front of his shirt. He hummed before you spoke again, “Please kiss me.”

There was a quick flash of his smile before his lips met yours ― every bit as soft as you expected them to be. You could faintly taste toothpaste on his lips but you didn’t mind one bit, he probably tasted the same from you. 

His hand moved from your cheek to your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss. Your own hands moved around his shoulders, pulling him closer. 

You quickly found yourself on your back, his hand wandering up the hem of your shirt, touching the bare skin of your stomach. You whimpered, fisting his hair as you kept him locked in a kiss. He didn’t seem to mind, simply sighing against your lips. 

You still had questions but you couldn’t bear the thought of stopping this so you tucked them into the back of your mind, devoting yourself to what was right in front of you. 

Shinsou sat up just slightly, breaking the kiss. You almost whined but the feeling of his hand creeping upwards towards your bare breast stopped you.

“Is this okay?” he asked for your consent, pausing before he actually touched you.

“Very,” you breathed, tugging him back down for another kiss. 

Immediately, he cupped your breast, thumbing your already erected nipple. You gasped into his mouth, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Sensitive?” he asked, pecking your lips before suddenly sitting back. 

This time you did whine at the loss. He flashed you a fond smile before pushing the hem of your shirt up to your neck, revealing your chest to his greedy eyes. 

“D-Don’t just stare,” you complained, feeling your cheeks burn as he admired your body. 

“Sorry,” he replied insincerely, cupping your breast once more, “You have such pretty tits, you know? I couldn’t help it.”

You scoffed but it turned into a choked gasp as he enveloped your pert bud in his hot mouth, wet tongue lashing against it before he pulled away with a firm suck. You wrapped your hands in those soft, purple tresses and whined. His other hand came up to pinch your other nipple, making sure to give it just as much attention. 

“Toshi…” you whined, tugging his hair until he pulled away, his lips swollen. 

“What is it, baby?” he hummed, nosing at your neck to press soft kisses there.

“T-Take your shirt off,” you breathed, tugging at the hem until you were able to pull it over his head with a bit of assistance. 

Once he was as shirtless as you, your hands began to wander to touch every bit of skin you had long to for so long. He let you explore, letting out a soft sigh when you brushed over one of his hardened nipples. You didn’t linger in one place for long, quickly growing too curious at the sight of his member straining against those damn sweatpants he always wore. 

His head tipped back as you palmed him through the fabric, quickly noticing that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Eagerly, you dipped your fingers beneath the hem and pulled his cock free, your fingers not even able to touch once wrapped around. 

He was thick, a curve to his length that you just knew would hit a certain spot inside of you that would make you lose your mind. The head was a flushed red color, leaking precum that you used to give him a couple easy strokes. 

He reached down, grabbing your wrist to stop you before slipping his own hand down the hem of your shorts and panties. 

Your hips bucked the second his fingers made contact with your folds ― already dripping wet and coating his digits generously. He gave a few soft circles to your clit, testing your sensitivity before finding the pressure that had you cunt clenching around nothing. 

You whined, grinding your hips against his touch in hopes he’d slip at least one of those long fingers into you. Thankfully, you were granted your wish and more as he easily slid his middle and ring fingers in. 

He groaned as you walls tightly clenched around him, trying to desperately pull him back in whenever he pulled them out slightly. 

“Feel good?” he breathed, already knowing the answer but craving your praise.

“So good,” you whimpered, biting your lip. He curled his fingers suddenly, nailing that sweet, spongy spot on your upper wall, “Right there!” you gasped. 

He grinned, massaging that one pleasure-point with vigor, “Yeah? Right there, kitten?”

You keened at the name, walls clenching. He groaned at the feeling, suddenly pulling his hand free from your shorts. You didn’t have time to complain before he was tugging the remaining articles down your legs to toss away. 

He moved with practice expertise, grabbing you beneath the thighs to pin them open. Your wet cunt was exposed to his all too greedy eyes. He licked his lips at the sight, making your cheeks burn. 

Before you knew it, he was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, tugging you down just a bit so your ass was almost hanging off the edge. The position left you completely at his mercy. He knew it too. 

You watched with bated breath as he spread your folds open ― revealing the shiny, pink hole that continuously dripped your arousal. It clenched beneath his leering gaze and he groaned. 

“Fuck!” you squealed when he dove forward to wrap his lips around your hardened clit. 

He hummed at your taste, sending vibrations through the little bud. He quickly abandoned that in favor of getting a full taste of your juices. Tonguing your entrance, he reveled in how tight you were around his tongue. 

You reached down, tanging your fingers in his hair as he ate you with all he had. His tongue worked expertly to circle your clit before dipping back down to your hole once again. 

“Please, put your fingers in,” you begged, desperate to be filled. 

He quickly obliged, slipping two long digits into your clenched pussy before mouthing over your clit eagerly. He could already feel you clenching sporadically around him and he couldn’t resist setting a quick pace, hammering against your sweet spot with every movement. 

Your muscles were taught as you felt that glorious high building up. Soft pleas left your lips as your back arched. 

“Gonna cum, kitten?” he tasted, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Y-Yeah!” you sobbed, abandoning your hold on his hair to tear at your blankets ― not wanting to hurt him in your throes of pleasure. 

“Cum then,” the casual way he said those words flicked a switch and you were cumming. 

He groaned through your high, feeling your cunt spasm around him. He felt your cum gush from around his digits, soaking them as you clit throbbed beneath the pad of his tongue. Once your body began to relax, he pulled away. 

Your thighs slammed shut once he was out of the way, your muscles trembling through the intense aftershocks. While you were coming down, he stripped himself of his sweats, popping his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth with a groan as he fisted his cock to the sight of you trembling. 

The fact he made you cum so hard was a boost to his ego and he didn’t bother fighting the prideful grin on his face. Sweat coated your skin and made your hair stick to your neck. 

After several seconds, he climbed onto the bed and maneuvered you so your head was in the pillows. You bit your lip and grinned slyly at him as he climbed onto the bed. 

“Shit uh…” he looked around your room quickly, a frown on his lips. You looked up at him curiously before he explained, “Condom?”

You bit your lip and shook your head, “D-Don’t worry about it.”

“Huh?” he gaped down at you.

You shrugged, “I’m on the pill and well...I’m sure you use condoms with you...job, right?”

“Always,” he blinked.

“Then…” you wiggled your hips at him with a cheeky grin. 

He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Reaching between the two of you, he gripped his cock and tapped the head of it against your folds. Your thighs jumped as he slapped lightly against your sensitive clit. 

Finally, he began to press into you and your mouth fell open at the delicious stretch his cock gave you. He clenched his teeth, letting you soft groans as he sunk more of his length into you. Your walls gripped him so tightly, spasming and clenching as he was fully seated within you. 

The two of you had to pause before continuing, the feeling of him filling you up too much. His cock was thick, making you feel like he was stuffing you full. 

“Please,” you begged, fisting the pillows on either side of your head as he sat back on his heels. 

Gazing between your thighs, he nearly lost it at the sight of your cunt stretched tight to accommodate him. He thumbed over your clit, receiving a sharp cry from your lips. 

“Fuck...you’re so fucking tight,” he growled, circling his hips against yours with a groan, “I can feel you clenching so tight around me. Bet you wanna cum again, huh?”

“Yes!” you cried quickly, mouth agape as he gave a sudden thrust, “Please make me cum!”

He shushed you, rubbing his thumbs over your hips, “Don’t worry, kitten, I got you...I’ll get you there.”

Before you could respond, he was setting an almost brutal pace. You always imagined what Shinsou would be like in bed ― you pictured it too many times at night. Sometimes you imagined he would take it slow with deep, intense thrusts. Other times you’d picture exactly this; rough, harsh thrusts that you were sure were going to leave you sore when the morning came. 

You had no complaints though. 

Hitoshi gripped you beneath your knees, pinning your legs to your chest as he fucked you. Your cunt gushed around him, making lewd, wet noises reverberate around the room and mingle with your mixed moans. He let out groans of pleasure, strands of purple hair sticking to his forehead. 

You couldn’t help but admire the sight of him ― muscles rippling and moving with the force of his thrusts. Reaching up, you pulled him closer against you, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades. 

He winced but you felt his cock twitch at the pinch of pain inflicted as a result. You thought back to what you saw that one night ― the marks some random woman left on his body. Suddenly, you were overcome with the need to mark him as yours. 

Catching him by surprise, you managed to flip him over, straddling his waist, using his strong chest as leverage to fuck yourself on his thick cock. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper, almost hitting your cervix every time you sunk down on him. He gripped your hips, assisting your movements as he tossed his head back into the pillows. 

“Shit, that’s it, kitten,” he praised, reaching up to pinch one of your nipples.

You keened at the praise, leaning down to deliver a sharp bite against his shoulder, sucking at the skin until a bright red mark bloomed. You eyed it proudly, biting your lip as you ground against his cock, making sure your clit got the attention it needed. 

Shinsou bucked into you, making you whine as he started a steady pace of bouncing. Your thighs burned but it was worth the sight of having him beneath you. The way he stared up at you, as if you were a goddess made your heart race. 

“Toshi…” you whined, leaning back to steady yourself on his thighs as he started to thrust up into you. 

“What is it, babygirl?” he grunted, gripping your hips tightly as he fucked his thick cock into your gushing cunt. 

“Make me cum, please!” you begged, biting your lip. 

He grinned, bringing his thumb to his lips to lick the pad of it, “I got you, baby.”

Before you could think of a response, he was circling his thumb around your clit, the bud desperate for attention. Your body tensed with just a few quick circles of his thumb, his cock angled against your g-spot so perfectly that you immediately reached your high. 

Through your own cries of pleasure, you heard him moaning alongside you before he froze, his cock buried deep inside you as he came. His cock throbbed and pulsed with every jet of hot cum he released into your clenching walls. 

All at once, things stilled. You both relaxed against each other. His cock was still stuffed inside you, softening as his cum leaked out around him to make a mess between the two of you. You laid your head against his chest, his large hand cupping the back of it, pressing soft kisses against your forehead until your heartbeats finally slowed to a reasonable pace. 

“Let’s take a bath, baby,” he groaned as he sat up, keeping you secure in his lap.

You were surprised he could carry you so easily after he nearly fucked the very life out of you. 

Soon enough, you found yourself surrounded by sweet-smelling water with a fucked-out Shinsou cuddling against your back.

“Not to...ruin this afterglow bliss,” you hummed, leaning back against him as the warm water ripped around you, “But what brought this confession on suddenly? I thought you said your job doesn’t allow room for relationships.”

He was quiet for several, long seconds before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your shoulder, “I didn’t think it was fair to let myself be with you when I was going out once a month to hang around with a bunch of women. It isn’t something I want to put you through.”

“So you’re going to quit?” you asked. 

He nodded, “I probably won’t be able to make enough money to keep this place but...if it means I can have you without feeling like shit about hurting you, then yeah. It’ll be worth it, I’m sure.”

“Why don’t you just…” you bit your lip, pausing.

“What?” you questioned, gripping your chin to make you look at him, “Talk to me.”

You hummed, “Just stop with the sex and kissing stuff...just be arm candy, like you said. Hang out with them. They’ll still pay for that, right?”

He raised a brow, shifting so he could look better at your face, “You’d be okay with me going to hang out with a bunch of women who want nothing more than to sit on my dick?”

“Well…” you cleared your throat, your cheeks burning, “As long as only I get to sit on your dick then it’ll be fine. I trust you, Hitoshi.”

He was quiet once again before a smile fell across his lips, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips, “We’ll talk more about it later. Let’s just relax.”

He tucked you against his chest, leaning back against the porcelain of the tub. With his fingers caressing across your skin, you allowed yourself to drift off ― finally wrapped up in those damn arms you dreamed of.

[simeonstans]

OBEY ME BROTHERS AS CELEBRITIES

Sorry I haven't been active. Between schoolwork and just a lack of motivation and creativity, I really dont know what else I should've written. I'm sorry for abandoning this blog for a while haha.

LUCIFER

He's an actor. But later turned into directing and producing movies.

Has an entire room dedicated to his awards, one wall lined up with all his Oscars, Grammys, and Emmys.

Involved in plenty of rumors and scandals, usually where the media thinks he's dating an actor or found a non celebrity partner. But really, he asked them out to talk business.

Whenever he's acting, his character can go from the charming boy to the rich spoiled brat to even the badass detective. He's not a big fan of starring in hero or action movies with lots of effects. Nor directing those types of movies.

Directed a horror movie once and that quickly got taken out of movies for how scary they were. Psychological horror to the extreme.

His stans are usually rich and probably like Quentin Tarantino or Clint Eastwood. Lucifer has beefed with Woody Allen and his stans do as well. Truly iconic.

Philanthropist.

MAMMON

He's a model in canon but I feel he could also be a photographer.

He knows his aesthetics and has plenty of portfolios.

He's probably gonna act a lot smarter now that he's famous and knows plenty of people would want to scam him.

He does give out to charity sometimes but usually he models for campaigns or sells his pictures at auctions and donates away the money or a percentage of it.

Involved in some scandals but they're quickly debunked by his stans or his management. Nothing too bad, just a dating rumor that spirled out of control.

He does have a good relationship with his fans and likes to do podcasts or go on lives and interact and answer questions, even invites them on his lives to talk with them.

He's filthy rich and he dresses filthy rich. His style is very earthy and casual, but he does have that expensive Hermes™ watch and some Prada™ boots.

LEVIATHAN

He's a YouTuber. He also streams every Friday and Saturday from 10pm-6am.

He liked to cosplay but now that he gets invited to gaming cons and events, he probably doesn't have much time to make a good cosplay up to his standards so he'd probably wearing Tanjiro's earrings one day and then his Naruto jacket the next.

Whenever he goes to concerts, it's a thing that fans secretly take pictures of him if they're near him and there's plenty of content of him drooling over Zaramela.

There's YouTube compliations of him going shy whenever someone is nice to him or someone attractive goes near him.

Because he games a lot, he probably would sweat a lot if he becomes concentrated. So whenever he'd brush his hair back or put it in a ponytail, his stans go feral.

Don't mess with his stans, they're the type to call and email anyone so you have your life ruined. But I promise they're usually soft stans.

He dresses like the gamer boy of your dreams tbh.

SATAN

He's a painter.

The next Picasso. Van Gogh. Monet. He has talent.

Many would say he could be an author cause he reads but I headcanon he could have synesthesia. So whenever he'd read a book and go over a specific scene, it'd inspire him to draw or paint something.

If he's stressed, he plays classical music and paints whatever the music says.

He was probably a college student when this happened and he had a lot of paintings he didn't know what to do with, so he just sold them or gave him away to charities under a fake name.

Like some Hannah Montana shit, he lived a double life for a couple months and then he got outed by some journalist that was supposed to keep up with him.

He gets invited to plenty of events and has painted for celebrities and politicians. Despite that, he's probably the least popular of his brother's but his stans are very dedicated to him and surprisingly there's rarely any fights within.

He has money but the most expensive his he owns is a watch and his car. More dad or nerdy boyfriend type look.

ASMODEUS

Triple Threat. Model, actor, singer.

He frequently goes on tour and drops albums. His music ranges so one album can help you explore your sexuality when his next album mostly focuses on who he truly is and so on.

Like Lucifer, he has plenty of awards. Probably has starred in one of his productions, too.

Has collaborated with NikkieTutorials, Rihanna and her Fenty collection, Beyonce, the biggest stars you could think of. Whether music or beauty.

Has his own fashion line as well as his own perfume collection and beauty products. A good percentage does go to charities and organizations like homeless college students or pro-lgbt groups.

Has YouTube compliations of men having gay panics over him.

Has been involved in many scandals and relationships, but many wind up false. Surprisingly. He is honest, so he does confirm if there was any chemistry between him and someone else.

His stans are more open and accepting, they don't really attack you or ruin your life but they can damage your self esteem for good.

They've also trended "#AsmoIsOverParty" just to promote a new project from him.

BEELZEBUB

He's an athlete.

There's plenty of videos of him with his shirt off and he may seem scary to many people, he's our big puppy.

"Beelzebub being cute for 4 minutes and 48 seconds" compliations rival "Levi being shy as a serotonin boost" compliations

Has the most fans. He's mentioned wanting a family and being family oriented before which probably caused his fan base to expand.

If you don't understand the sport, older stans would explain it for you. He also made a YouTube channel where he posts videos explaining how the game works and the positions. There's 5 videos, each video almost an hour long. He hasn't updated his channel since then.

Has also starred in Lucifers movies and usually does his own stunts.

He only wears expensive shoes as long as they last long or are comfortable for him. He also sometimes buys expensive athletic wear but majority of the time he doesn't check how expensive it is as long as he's comfortable.

Every week, he posts a video of himself working out or making a healthy and inexpensive meal to promote a healthier lifestyle.

BELPHAGOR

Music producer.

Despite being known to nap a lot or to be in his room a lot, it's usually because he spends a lot of time making beats and working on lyrics.

He's collaborated with plenty of artists but usually collaborates with Asmo.

Belphie also has his own music company which Asmo is under. Of course there's other producers in so he works alongside them and other artists and he usually makes his own music or adds back vocals to some songs.

If you find the back vocals within it, he's usually growling or moaning. His voice is deep but it's very soothing.

His stans usually send him letters or ask Asmo how he's doing or if he's eaten yet. He is very respected and his stans are FERAL. No mercy, absolutely ruthless.

Once had his mixtape "leaked" by Asmo and it was on the charts for a good while and broke a record or two. He doesn't like talking about it much but he does appreciate it.

He doesn't dress up much but whenever he does, it's like he's a different persona.

[dubmill]

Monday, 14 December 2020

Walked to Arena Shopping Park in the pouring rain to buy Puppy Toilet Training pads at Poundland, then on to Harringay station. (1.1 miles)

Rail: Harringay to Streatham

Shopping at Tesco, then bus (50) to Becmead Avenue

I found my mother in the gloom clutching a letter from Acorn Stairlifts. She was fixated on the offer of a £50 reward if she referred someone to get a stairlift. I said, “You don’t know anyone that needs a stairlift.” (She probably once did, but now they are mostly dead, or if not, already have one.) But she wouldn’t have it. Eventually, when I said I was going to put the shopping in the fridge, she said I should put the letter there as well. I said, “We don’t put letters in the fridge. We put food in the fridge.” “That’s true,” she quickly replied.

Later, the phone rang, and I soon regretted answering it as it was a woman named Monica with a thick accent saying that a warranty on my mother’s washing machine was up for renewal. I was straight away dubious that this was genuine, but I listened, reluctantly, to sales patter about policy benefits and a telephone no. for engineer call-out. Then she passed me over to a man who said his name was Johnny, and it was more spiel about benefits, and did I want to add any more appliances to the policy. Finally, he moved on to asking for card details. I said that I didn’t want to provide such details over the phone and could he put something in writing, but he said they only sent promotional material in the mail. I responded that I would need to discuss the matter with my mother, and he said that was fine and he could call back in 10 minutes. I said that I wouldn’t be there (checkmate), so he gave up, saying he’d call back some other time. If he does call and my mother answers it, she won’t tell him anything to his advantage as she doesn’t know the card no. or other details necessary for any scam to succeed. But no doubt it would cause her some anxiety, which she could do without.

***

Soon after I left the house, it began to rain heavily again, so I thought I’d go to the Wetherspoon’s on the High Road (The Holland Tringham). I had something to eat and a pint of Sambrook’s Junction (good). I originally only planned to have one pint, but an hour later it was still pouring with rain, so I thought I’d wait it out in hopes of the rain stopping, which it eventually did. There was a notice pinned on the wall saying all ales were reduced to 99p once more following the announcement of Tier 3 restrictions from Wednesday. For my second pint I had Ruddles bitter, which only costs £1.29 at full price, so not much of a saving, but it was very good – tasted fresh.

I’m a fan of Wetherspoon’s but the Holland Tringham not so much. It’s a bit dowdy and seems to attract a higher ratio of rather washed-up-looking, decrepit customers (of course, I’m not far off being one of them myself, so I shouldn’t complain). At a nearby table, two somewhat elderly women who had long finished their drinks (and, presumably, mandatory meals) were playing cards endlessly. One of them kept coughing, which made me feel slightly uneasy.

By the time I’d finished my beer, it was past 8.00 pm, so too late to walk all the way home. Not that I would have really wanted to, because I’d done 16 miles on Friday and 10 miles on Saturday and was wary of bringing on a bout of tendonitis, or whatever it is that I suffer from periodically (various pains in my right hip, knee and shin). Instead, I thought I’d just walk to Trafalgar Square, which would be around 8 miles, and I could get the bus home from there.

The rain had only just stopped, so the pavements were still soaking wet and dotted with puddles, plus the streets had completely emptied out to almost lockdown levels. That, and the fact I was slightly buzzing from the alcohol, meant the first four or five miles were quite exilharating, before I started to tire a little. I couldn’t be bothered to think of different routes, so I mostly just walked the same way as on many previous occasions:

Prentis Rd., Garrad’s Rd., Abbotswood Rd., Drewstead Rd., across Tooting Common to Emmanuel Rd., Radbourne Rd., Weir Rd., Clarence Ave., Poynders Rd., Rodenhurst Rd., Hambalt Rd., Elms Crescent, Elms Rd., across Clapham Common to Cedars Rd., Queenstown Rd., Chelsea Bridge, Grosvenor Rd., Claverton St., Denbigh St., Churton St., Tachbrook St., Longmoore St., Wilton Rd., Victoria, Sir Simon Milton Sq., Warwick Row, Palace St., Buckingham Gate, Birdcage Walk, Great George St., Parliament Square, Whitehall, Trafalgar Square (8.0 miles)

Bus: 29 to Harringay

Weather: heavy rain in the afternoon and again in the early evening, but dry later; mild; light winds

Total: 10.6 miles

[marchioness-caprina]

*:..｡o○Ruishiro Takizaku○o｡..:*

Basic : Ruishiro Takizaku a 18 Year Old Hero Apprentice who Works under the Under Hound Agency. He has a height of 6'2 with a lean and muscular build, He Prefers to Be Called Rui instead of His First Name. His Hero Name is ' Morphicus '

Appearance : He Is a Rather intimidating Young Man; if his Height and Build isn't enough to scare people then The Sharp and seemingly permanent glare he'd usually show would do the trick. He has a pair of Transparent eyes which reflects the Purest Color of an Amethyst, Short Ashy Blue Hair that's usually Styled in a Messy and Lazy Manner. He has Ear Piercings on both ears and his Fingers are filled with stainless steel Rings. His usual attire consist of a Black Button Up shirt, Black Jeans and a High Collared Jacket and finally Heavy Combat Boots. His Expressions are Rather complex but the most prominent Expression he wears is the usual Death Glare that never seems to disappear or the infamous ' Stone cold Bitch Face '

Personality : Though He may Seem Cold and Distant at First especially with his Intimidating Expression; You Better hope it stays That way because he is actually an Asshole at Heart. He's Sarcastic, Brutal and Cruel with his Words and He wouldn't even care what that person's Status is may it be a president, the no. Hero, a Family Member or His Lover, It wouldn't matter. This Trait of His Gets Him into a Lot of Unnatural Trouble since it's his Nature to be argumentative and Hostile and he seems to have a hidden world of Remarks to match his Wits. But during One of the Very Rare moments where his Asshole meter has reduced half way he is actually very Sweet but has an odd way of showing it. He lives for the chase and it's one of it. Generally he is like any human being, Complex. But if the situation calls for it he is polite and respectful to those People he hasn't formed a solid opinion for yet. If you want annoying then go To Rui; He Tests People's wits and Irritates them unconsciously just to see where their True Feelings Lies; He has a big brain so his analytical skills is beyond average, he is observant and knows How to Manipulate a situation that's being laid in front of him. So being an actor, lying and charming his way in is not a big deal.

Quirk : Umbra Morphology; The Ability To Morph into Something Inhumane By the use of Darkness or Any objects that Holds the Color 'Black'. When the Ability is used; Black Sticky Viscous Substance will crawl onto the User's Chosen Body Part for Transformation and slowly Consume that Body Part while Forming the desired form of the User. But the color stays on and unchangeable.

How it was acquired/ Small backstory: in the First Place He was deemed Useless by Society and was lesser than Trash Meaning; He was Quirkless. His Family was surprisingly accepting of his current state but He Himself did not Like how low he had stood with the constant Mockery of those people who had quirks. He wanted to acquire his own Quirk. He wanted to acquire Power for Himself and Show everyone that he was worth something and because of this selfish desire of His He began to search desperately; He searched up the Black web and Looked for any possible ways to acquire power without Having a Quirk. Sure there were sites that offered to use his body as a Lab Rat but that may possibly get him killed. So he kept searching and searching until he stumbled onto a site that offered a Mystery Box. It was Cheap; Too cheap that it was suspicious but he was curious. He wanted to know what was inside, could it be a gadget that could grant him Power? Could it be body parts instead? Whatever it is ; something urged him to buy it. And that's where he slowly began to ruin his own Life.

Fast Forward to a Few Days; The package arrived and to his utter Disappointment it was a price of Paper in a Box. He paid for something like this. A paper.... No a contract, a Black eerie paper that had letters written with white ink. He later decided that the Site he bought it from was a scam because when he searched it up again; There was nothing. He didn't bother reading the paper at all. And one night when he was answering his Assignments, his eyes drifted towards the black paper on his desk and when he took a closer look the words were not in the language that he spoke of. It was an ancient language; that's all he could confirm but judging by the output it really was a contract . So thinking that it would be fun he signed the contract and that's where things began to get scary ( I'll skip the other stuff)

He Later found out that The contract he signed was a Contract to be a Vessel of The Demon Of Darkness Umbrachus, A demon that had forced Rui To Accept it in his Body now his Body isn't his own. Sure Rui was happy to know that he had a 'quirk' now but later when he found out what price he needed to pay was the cause of his mass destruction. He had plunged himself on his own demise. The Demon craved the Flesh of and Blood of Humans and it forced Rui to eat Raw Flesh. Umbrachus was a demon associated with Wrath, Pride and Greed so if any of those emotions are triggered by Rui then there's a high chance of Umbrachus Gaining Control of his body. The Demon was Toying with Rui; Umbrachus Started Manipulating Rui's surroundings and giving him Hallucinations. Rui feard sleeping because Umbrachus could gain Control over his body whole he was passed out. And Finally Rui had enough when Umbrachus had nearly Killed His Younger sister due to Hunger; With the incident taking Place Rui Fled. He Fled and Lived in the streets, He fought the demon with all his might and when he was at his wits that's where Hellhound appeared to his rescue. Hell Hound runs a Hero Agency called Under Hound. And this Agency isn't just associate with heroes. They are also Masters of the Occult so Hell Hound who was in a similar situation as Rui took Pity on the Boy and Took him to His Agency where Rui was Given Proper Training to Control the Demon. And soon Rui was given a chance to become a Hero; not a Hero for the public or media but a Hero of The Night. A Hero Who Kills Villains not arrest them.

Trivia Facts

* He Has a Very Bad Sweet tooth And is a Fan of Spicy Food.

* He Was Given a Choice to change his name but he Kept it That way because he Thinks Being called Rui is Cool

* Has a Soft Spot For Dogs

* After Umbrachus Forcefully shared his Body he lost the ability to use Chopsticks and whenever he tries to use them he gets frustrated since it always slips.

* He may Not Look it But he is actually a Big Fan of Sappy Love stories but after Umbrachus entered his Body he started liking Hard Core Gore.

* He used to be Slender and Lanky but Having a Demon inside him had it's Perks.

* He prefers Convenience Store Food Over 5 star Meals.

* He is Bisexual

* He May Have Sadistic Tendencies . He blames it on Umbrachus but Umbrachus spoke otherwise.

* He's an Asshole But He respects Independent women; He was raised by only his Mother being present so he was Disciplined strictly .

* It is mentioned that he is a Fan of Sappy Love stories so surprisingly he is actually very romantic and loving if he ever finds a Lover.

* He is a Master of Lying but He prefers the Truth over lies since he is used to Saying unfiltered insults Opinions.

* A Seafood addict

* He may or May Not be Into Witchcraft

* Can speak Fluent Bullshit

* He can Form Umbra Claws, or even sink himself into the darkness to come deal his presence so he is mostly sent on stealth missions because of this advantage.

* Babies Creep Him out. Don't Ask. It just Does.

* He can't smile for shit and when he tries it comes out as a mocking smirk or a sadistic grin.

* Has Perfect control. Over his Facial expressions but tends to keep it Monotoned and Bitch-Like.

* An actual Dork and Goes to Animal Cafe

* a Fan of Musicals Especially Phant of the Opera.

* Surprisingly has Good Singing Voice

* If he's not pissing anyone off then he's flirting with someone without noticing it.

* Can Cook a whole feast but eats Cup noodles instead.

* Owns 2 large bookshelves filled with Books he never reads. Or even has the patience to read one.

* Has a Dog Named Cat.

* He claims to be allergic to the cold so his clothes are mostly sweaters, jackets, hoodies, anything thats warm. Even if it's in the middle of the summer with everyone sweating bullets you'll see him walking around casually with heavy clothes on.

* He has a mild Disdain for overconfident brats with flashy Quirks.

* Shameless with his Opinions

* Likes Blueberries

* Fast Food is his Only Food.

Note: I don't Exactly Have a Drawn Picture of Him since I'm still Contemplating a Few Details but I did make a Rough Appearance Idea of Him in Picrew. This Picture is Not Mine To own I'm just showing you guys what he'd Mostly Look Like. The art belongs to a Talented Artists with a Bright Future ahead. If you know them. Then give them my regards and Thanks ^^ . I Repeat This is Just an Example ^^ the Picture is NOT mine.

Extra Note : If You Have a Few Questiona for him then Don't Hesitate to Mention Him in your Ask ^^ . You are Free to Interact with him.

[une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir]

Russia Visit Balance

I flew on Lufhtansa four times. Very nice company as usual, no problems. Nice catering and support. Very nice pilot and copilot and crew that invited me to check out cockpit. I study this stuff so of course this was quite a treat and gave me an extra boost to finally finish this doctorate once and for all.

EXCEPT Frankfurt. All fine with the check and stuff (annoying and slow, but understandable). But the dumb arsehole on boarding gate ewww. I was told I couldn't take my cabin trolley and it had to be taken with heavy luggage. I had already flown with it in that company that week thrice, it had the right weight. I asked why, he wouldn't explain. "It sometimes happens." Why? He didn't answer. I insisted as that is my right, I wanted to know why only me and he told me he already explained 10x times. 10m on this. Until his boss came and said the reason. It's because of the weight distribution on the airplane and cabin was already full. I study this shit for a living, hell there is a course where we learn to calculate it BY HAND. I looked like a standard tourist so boarding dumb employee fancied himself not needing to explain. This pisses me off. For me, because I had the right to know and I was refused to, as well as all the "ignorant" who also ad the right to know but this dumbarse thinks himself unnacountable to these people either. At leat he got chewed off. Arsehole.

Saint Petersburg

I want to live a couple of months of the year there forever. 😭😭😭

A beautiful city, the "centre" feels like stopped in time, the old architecture and decorations, yet modern enough for you to feel its modern times. Wi-Fi everywhere. It sucks because you need to provide mobile phone and I'd have to pay roaming. At least that's what I got.

Near summer solstice (~21/06) the days are the biggest and nights the shortest, the sun went down at 22:30 and got up at 3:00. Its the contrary in he winter solstice (~21/12). This is why May to September is tourist season so it's packed full. The temperature was warm enough 12C - 20C, supposedly it rain here a lot but it never did. I wonder if visiting it in March / April would be too cold and rainy... I like cold and rain though.

Saint Petersburg looks like Venice, rivers and bridges. The Neva river and all the others smell "nice". I cannot say the same for other cities with rivers running through them (* looks at my own country *). Whole place was spotless clean, not a single piece of garbage floor. YOU CANNOT DRINK TAP WATER. There are "free" washrooms which are very clean. You ask for toilette like the French.

I visited half of the big places too quickly to really appreciate it but enough to entice me to return on my own. My favourites were the historic centre (buildings, rivers, bridges), Hermitage (not the 8116627228283762 Chinese groups though) and Summer Palace (also not the Chinese they were everywhere, I've travelled plenty and I've never seen so many or so much disrespectful). The other half was closed for repairs. What a tease.

Can get scammed in both street sellers (sometimes they trick you, they sold me matrioska with 3 instead of 5 like promised) as well as legitimate souvenir shops (double the price from the streets). I got the best deals in the streets though, so keep an eye on them as they have the same stuff but at half price. I highly recommend "summary" books in your language (they sell them "everywhere") for about 10€ or 500p (I got them outside for 5€). Here I was not scammed and I made really good deals. This will change of course, but carry a calculator as exchange is easy. Rubles divided by "70" to get € (I believe "60" to get $). On the other hand, multiply € /$ for "70" or "60". Check exchange and not that some will be more anal retentive about the exchange rate than others. About half of the places accept € / $ but charge slightly more. If you have VISA you can withdraw from ATM (most have English version) and the tax isn't high. Exchange rate is more favourable in Russian soil.

There are markets open "24/7" or close to it. I know this because I had to go search for super glue at six in the morning and there was one open. Another thing worth knowing is pharmacy > ANTEKA and the traditional green cross, there are many of them. "NOBODY" anywhere except museumz speaks english but they will usually try to help (no matter the age). Take mobile with Google translate, photos, or something to draw. Improvise too. I got them to understand caviar by bringing fish and eggs together.

I want to hate Holiday Inn because of an incident with my football team. I've spent several times in different ones and yet I could not hate it, yet again. Damn them. Recommend. I found their "interpretation" of my national dishes hilarious, this is something recurrent because there were French and Italians laughing about the same.

Lots of salads, which I'm a fan of. Also soup made of salad apparently. Small doses (blasphemy for my country). Very soft meat but not much fish (understandable). Huge mugs for weak coffee they drink anytime and everywhere, as well as black tea. I like my strong espresso like any shameless Mediterranean dweller. There was a machine at the hotels but nowhere else.

Good Vodka every meal, except for one which not only was awful made me cry because it was the last meal I had there. I was offered a Vodka bottle for my sadness which I'm already chugging. There was one with Gin and Lemon(?). Please someone give the recipe if you know what it is. I almost died from how good it was.

Moscow

Moscow is opposite. Very cosmopolite, its like three cities in one. The old one (like Petersburg), the random urban jungle one, and the futuristic one. The guide said, Petersburg was more artsy and Moscow more economical.

Moscow very beautiful at night. The lights really make the place "shine" (urgh). Saw much less there because if was raining like the end of the world. I saw an old religious peregrine place (if you're not Protestant you will find their churches breathtaking), Kremlim and Red Square (its not red), as well as everything else there (Basil, Lenin).

There was some fancy mall (GUM which had limited edition dior makeup where I spent all my pocket money). I also bought a cute Moscow umbrella with monuments and a Gargarin t-shirt (first human in space) which I'd chose over all the makeup no matter if if cost 10x less. Sometimes it's the little things. I also wanted to buy shirtless Putin mounted on a bear flag but I was afraid I'd be arrested. I was very tempted in buying a shirt with Putin with Trump behind him with the word "friends' over it. Again,what if I was arrested.

There were also oil canvas 30x20 sold in souvenir shops in both cities (150€ each) and an interesting "matrioska" with all the Russian presidents since Lenin (on of them had a defect). My heart broke and a bit stayed with them as I couldn't bring them with me.

Hotel this time was Marriott. Veryyy good and veryyy bad. Rooms were better, food was worse, the reception girls were super nice but some employee stole stuff from several rooms as well (money, "lame" souvenirs - da fuq, fur hat / stoles / coats, sunglasses, even some fancy face creams). I always shove everything inside the safe and bags with secret code so I was good but I still spent one hour waiting for an engineer to come SUBSTITUTE the whole safe door because they were that determined in opening it.

Taxis have unfortunate reputations on every country. Apparently Russian taxis are cool because they are government issued. I cannot confirm. I paid 200€ for a drive and the ones that came after us paid 70€. This is of course impossible. I'd rather go on subway (I recommend checking the ones on Moscow, some are beautiful) bit I was with old people who were afraid of getting lost (how hard could it be srly). Well then. Something got lost alright.

Highly recommend!

[kh-imaginings]

Hello! 💖I know your blog is fairly new, but you’re doing an amazing job so far! I can’t wait to see what else you post! Would I be able to ask for some sweet domestic moments with the Org XIII kiddies? (If that’s too many people, I can be more specific and ask for Xigbar, Axel, Saix, Zexiin, Xaldin, and Luxord) Best of luck! 💕🍀🍦

Hi there anon! So i only do 5 characters at a time but you’re welcome to keep sending them in if you want to see more characters! I’ll start with the first 5 on your list. I’m also assuming you want some headcanons, if not send this in again!

Xigbar: 

xigbar has a love of being in the kitchen with you. Not really cooking, but he likes spending time with you doing domestic things. It’s nice to be able to smell a nice meal on the way, and also be able to talk to you about your days. 

Another thing he’s not particular on movies, but if you’re there snuggled into his side, he’s good with watching just about anything. 

If you can’t tell already his love language is quality time. He just likes being in the same space with you for a while, without any worries and leaving the daily stress behind.

Axel:

You can probably already guess that this guy is a human furnace. He’s really warm to lay next to. What you might not know is that he’s prone to tossing and turning. You’ll never wake up in the same position that you went to sleep in, because when he moves, he takes you with him!

He always remembers your favorite foods to buy from the store. Once he learns this about you, he won’t forget and will regularly keep some stocked in the house for you (whether you live together, or just visit his house, there’ll be your favorite soda or ice cream available).

Is a fan of reminiscing. Of course the guy’s catchphrase is “Got it memorized?” being able to remember the good times is important to him. Along with remembering little tidbits about each other. It shows that you’re attentive about each other. Every time you remember something about him, his favorite foods, or games, or a funny joke he told you, he falls more in love.

Saix:

Saix is the kind of guy who is proficient in housekeeping. Everything has its place, and he keeps everything clean and tidy in his home. That being said, he also helps motivate you to keep your own space tidy as well. Maybe you’re not feeling well, or you’re just naturally cluttered, he will tidy up now and again around your room. He might reprimand, but he means well. An organized room, leads to an organized life, and decreases stress. He just wants you to be in a place that is conducive to other healthy behaviors and mindset.

The first time you fell asleep on his shoulder, he had to try SO HARD not to just start blushing like a tomato! He might seem like this somber and strict dude, but you show him that you trust him and are comfortable to just do whatever with him and it gives him the warm and fuzzies inside. It will take a while for him to do the same, he is kind of defensive, but once you gain his trust like that it stays there.

Sometimes he’ll sneak a little post-it in your coat or in a book with a little heart drawn on it. He’s really shy, but it’s his way of letting you know you’re on his mind and that he loves you. You don’t have to bring it up (he’ll probably get embarrassed) but just give him a hug or a note right back, and it’ll make his week.

Zexion:

You know you’ve gotten into Zexion’s good graces when he comes and sits around you to read. Unprompted and won’t say anything, he just shows up, and sits down next to you and continues doing his thing. It’s very comforting and ideal that you’re both able spend time together even if you’re doing independent tasks/hobbies.

Has a secret list of books he wants to recommend to you, he even puts little notes/letters inside them telling you why he thought it would be a good read for you. They’re not all interesting, but it shows that you were on his mind.

In his notebooks, there’s little doodles of you, or notes about things he wants to tell you. Sometimes he’s written down grocery lists, or foods he wants to try with you. Really he thinks about you all the dang time, he’s not outward all the time with his affection but he is absolutely smitten with you! who would’ve thunk this guy would be such a sap ;)

Xaldin: 

Okay so Xaldin, is a gym buff, he likes going and meal prep, and all that jazz. When he preps meals he goes ahead and makes extra for you as well. To make sure you’re getting your daily nutrients and you’re taking care of yourself. He might try to drag you to the gym, you can say no (even though he thought it would be cool to be able to train with his love), and he’ll leave you be, but you make sure you eat the lunch he makes! They’re surprisingly delicious (which he’s only really gotten good at making yummy meals, after meeting you and realizing that he wants you to enjoy the food rather than just have the fuel)

Another tidy fellow. He actually finds cleaning relaxing, and although he make a little fuss if you’re not (once again not too serious, he’s got a case of the tsundere is all), he’d be happy to clean your room. Then after a hard afternoon’s work you can offer to cuddle with him, and it’ll be SOOOO nice in clean sheets!

Enjoys going on walks at sunset or after work with you. Just strolling around town. If you see a particularly new flower he might pick a couple, one for you and one for him to press into a bookmark (which he will then give to you). 

BONUS~ You can get him to do all kinds of cutesy hobbies like that, he’s up for trying new crafts if you suggest them. He might say they’re a waste of time and resources, but the time spent and also the finished product is a treat for him. It’s nice to see you smile when you create something new, even if it doesn’t turn out like the pinterest board’s, his always turn out perfect (even when it’s a scam!) and he’ll give his to you, because it makes you smile.

[barpurplewrites]

Keep an open mind - Chapter 3

Previous chapters (HERE)

-x-x-x-

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

Belle nibbled her bottom lip as she set her pint down squarely on the coaster. She’d been expecting this question, so had given some thought to her answer.

“I used to, in the same way I used to believe in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. Ghosts are just another fairy tale.”

She’d been focused on her glass as she spoke, when she’d finished she looked up and caught a sad smile on Gold’s face. Was he judging her? No, it didn’t look like judgement, or pity, it was sadder, more personal. How odd.

Jefferson waved an expressive hand; “I take the role of Mulder in our little troop, but for magic not aliens, although I believe in them to, it would be the height of vanity to assume we are alone in the universe.”

Belle hadn’t expected anything less from Jefferson. She’d known him long enough to have heard his excited babbling about various unexplained phenomena.  

Ariel nudged her shoulder; “I’m a full-on season one Scully. The only things that go bump in the night are dodgy pipes, animals and other humans.”

That surprised Belle; her first impression of Ariel had been of a flighty and fanciful woman. Her skill with sound engineering had shown a strong practical streak, but Belle still would have expected her to believe in all this ghost stuff.

Gold sighed; “Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy are lies we tell children to make the world more magical. Ghosts are lies we tell ourselves to make the world less painful.”

His voice was steady, but the depth of emotion in his eyes was heart-breaking. Belle wanted to reach out and comfort him, but she resisted the instinct. She didn’t not know Gold well enough to know if her actions would be welcome, and she didn’t want to overstep on her first day on the job. There was a story behind his words, one that was clearly personal and painful.

Jefferson cleared his throat and said jovially; “Time for trampoline tennis.”

“What?”

Belle looked around the bar wondering what sort of crazy game that could possibly be. Ariel chuckled; “Don’t worry. It’s what we call bouncing ideas back and forth about the episode. Not sure when we started calling it that, but it’s stuck.”

The other three pulled out notebooks from pockets and bags. Belle felt awkward that she didn’t have anything on her, she’d not been warned about this. She was just about to say she’d run back to the motel when Gold slid a brand-new notebook and pen across the table to her. It was a handsome thing, black fake leather embossed with Bumps in the Night logo.

Gold shrugged; “Should have given you this this morning, to welcome you to the crew, but I forgot it along with my gloves.”

“Thank you.”

Belle was a compulsive notebook buyer. She had some lovely ones at home, far too many still unused to justify buying more, not that that ever stopped her. This one was more of a journal, or project book. The paper was a nice thickness, and lightly lined, ideal for making sketches and for taking notes. Pockets inside the covers allowed for the safekeeping of loose paper and there were dividers that could be repositioned. It was something she would have bought for herself.

Gold smiled at her obvious enjoyment of the notebook. He flipped to the back and showed her the printed pages tucked within the pocket there.

“Our most commonly used resources. We do have a few free lance researchers who help out from time to time, but we’re such a small crew that everyone needs to pitch in. I know the pay doesn’t reflect that, but we normally get a decent end of season ratings bonus.”

Belle nodded as she scanned the list. It wasn’t unusual on small productions for everyone to muck in. The experience was always helpful, and the promise of a bonus was a nice thing to look forward to. The list was a mix of normal web addresses for land registry, archives of old maps and ancestry records, then there were the odder items that she supposed she’d have to get used to in this job; Reddit and Tumblr accounts that focused on ghosts and the supernatural.

“With so much of this being on line I surprised you don’t just give us tablets.”

Ariel and Jefferson laughed. Gold rolled his eyes; “You’re not the first to suggest it. I’m old fashioned, I like writing things down.”

“That and he’s terrible for leaving chargers in motels.”

Gold laughed at Jefferson’s comment; “Aye there is that too.”

 They decided to order food before they got started on the trampoline tennis. There was some friendly bickering about pineapple and its place on pizza. Jefferson was dead against it, while Ariel and Belle were indifferent. Gold was for it, claiming that it was vaguely healthy. Food on the road frequently was deep fried, so getting fruit when you could wasn’t a bad idea. A quick look at the menu proved that salad wasn’t an option. Belle made a note to herself to pick up some apples from a grocery store tomorrow.

After everyone had had a slice or two Gold asked: “So, what do we think of our Hanging Figure?”

Jefferson flicked a piece of pineapple off his slice of pizza and shrugged; “I think this one is going to end up being something mundane.”

Gold wiped his mouth with a napkin; “I think you’re right. No deaths in the property, no missing people, nothing that would suggest a ghostly presence.”

“Not even a creepy feeling, just an empty house. Although I wish the owner had left the carpets in place, the echoes we’re getting from footsteps are annoying.”

The heels of Gold’s boots had caused Ariel some major sound problems. Viewers would never know that Gold had done most of the internal shots in his stocking feet. Belle had managed not to giggle at his ghost Pokémon socks, just.

Belle took her camera out of her bag and flicked through some of the photos she’d taken of the window. There was an outline there that looked like a head and torso hanging from a rope. It was visible from all the angles she’d been able to take a photo from, outside and inside. There was nothing on the glass that would rub off, that had been one of the first things Gold had tested. She dipped a pizza crust in the pot of sour cream and jotted down some ideas.

“What are you thinking Belle?”

As was typical of these things Gold asked his question just as Belle had taken a bite of pizza. She chewed and hurriedly swallowed almost choking herself in the process. Gold grimaced and handed her a glass of water.

“Sorry about that.”

She waved his apology away as she glugged the water down.

“No worries, it happens,” – she looked at her notebook, - “If the window hadn’t been replaced twice I’d say that there was a defect in the glass. Is it possible that this is some long running prank and the window fitter has deliberately put the outline there?”

Jefferson thumbed through his own notebook; “Possible, but the replacements were done by two different owners twenty years apart, both used different companies. Nah, I don’t see it. Besides where’s the money?”

Finding out who would profit from potential haunting was the best way to discover the truth. One of the episodes Belle had watched after she’d accepted the job had used this approach to uncover a brother attempting to scam his siblings out of their inheritance by claiming the house was haunted.

Gold tapped his own notebook and shook his head; “There’s nothing like that here. If anything, the previous owners have lost money because of that window, and the current owner is hoping that we find an ordinary explanation, so he can sell up.”

“Okay so that leaves us with damp, or maybe a structural defect in the window frame? Y’know causing the glass to warp?”

Belle felt her suggestions were weak, but everyone else nodded encouragingly.

“We can look into both of those the day after tomorrow, the owner has given us permission to replace the window.”

“I should set up a camera, maybe two, one inside and one out, to film the window over night after it’s replaced. We might see the Hanging Figure reappear.”

She said it with a smile on her face but received serious nods from the others. She was going to need to remember that this gig might feel like a joke to her but two of the people who could fire her believed in this spooky stuff. Just because the content was on the kooky side didn’t mean that she shouldn’t do a thorough job.

While she’d been mental chastising herself Ariel had said something that had made Gold pull a face. Ariel poked in his direction with a pizza crust.

“Look I know you’re not a fan of them Gold, but they’re expected on a spook show, so we will set them up and show that we used them even if we don’t get anything.”

Ah, this was about the EMF and EVP. She was about to ask why Gold didn’t like them, but he spotted the obvious question on her face.

“It’s daft, but those damn machines give me tinnitus, especially the EVP. But Ariel is right they are expected, so we’ll set them up for the overnight, okay?”

Ariel gave him a happy grin; “Good, it’s usually more of a battle than that.”

“To be fair you do normally ask me about it first thing in the morning before I’ve had a cuppa.”

Ariel turned to Belle; “Did Jefferson warn you about that? Gold is a bear with a sore head before he’s had a cup of tea in the mornings. It’s his only diva-like quality.”

Gold gave a over the top gasp and place his hand against his heart; “You wound me Ariel I’m not that bad at all.”

Jefferson and Ariel both cocked an eyebrow and him and nodded. Gold deflated and flapped a hand at them; “Okay maybe I am,” – he smothered a yawn with the back of his hand, - “and I’m going to be much worse if I don’t call it a night and get some sleep.”

It wasn’t late, but it was heading in that direction and they did have an early start the next day. Belle was surprised when Gold collected the receipts for their meal and drinks. That sort of clerical work normally got shunted off on to one of the women. When she mentioned as much to Ariel on the walk back to the motel, she just shrugged; “Gold likes balancing the books, it’s relaxing for him. I suggested he try yoga, but he laughed at me.”

Belle snorted as she tried to picture Gold in various yoga poses. It was all the funnier because her imagination had conjured suit wearing Gold doing yoga. She was still smiling at the idea when she bid everyone good night and headed into her room.

[raysofrestlesssunflower]

India Days 7 and 8

Day 7 is a recovery day. The hostel owner gives us a basket of paints and invites Samara to paint the female dorm wall. A vibrant mandala comes to life from her fingertips. I marvel as I always do, even more so now given the fact that she is using a rolled up sock and cotton discs as paint brushes. She sketches me a mandala template and with my wobbly hands, I tentatively fill it in with gobs of oil paint, which Samara wisely avoids. I stink of turpentine until I shower.

As night falls, we're in the streets, foraging for food. Samara must by all means have her third straight meal of momos. Our momo vendor's face lights up knowingly as we approach. The enormous pan sizzles ferociously as he throws the perfect measurements of spices and chopped veg in. A mist of aromatic masala heaven engulfs him.

On the stoop of his restaurant, we sit and await our meal. A herd of little eyes surround us.  One boy stands 5cm away from Samara's face, arms clasped unapologetically behind his back as he stares unblinkingly at her.

The next day, we change hostels. Bags packed and affairs in order, we wait downstairs for Sabir, Salim's workmate, to come and fetch us for family chai before we leave. We meet 20 of his modest family members, and endure an excruciatingly awkward half hour of eating the spread of food they so graciously bring us while they all watch, smiling radiantly at us the entire time. Eating in front of them during Ramadan feels cruel, but they seem to find genuine joy somehow in this selfless hospitality, regardless.

At our new hostel, we settle briefly before setting out to hunt for beers for Samara and a cobbler to resize fake leather shoes I was scammed into buying a few days ago. 6km later, we return, drenched in sweat and caked in dust. Beer run, a great success. Shoes, turned away with disapproving, pitying eyes and head wobbles.

We sit under the fan now, puffing away at biddies, bellies stuffed with chicken tikka takeout and gallons of water. We've mapped out our remaining route for the next couple of weeks: Pushkar,Jodhpur, Udaipur, and then Goa. Now, Samara is sketching away with calm, quiet strokes at a picture she will paint on a hostel wall in the next couple of days. With this, she earns us a free night at the hostel. Ah, the perks of travelling with an artist. I play mini-agent, and purse my lips in thought and furrow my brow pensively as I discuss the space she will paint with the manager.

In the late hours, I contemplate a shower, as I sit in my own humid vapours, listening to the distant sound of tuk-tuk and bike horns disrupting the hum of the city's a million and one running fans. And I slap at the 10th hungry mosquito.

[aion-rsa]

How the Pokémon Trading Card Game Boom Brought Back Pokémon Fever

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This story is presented by

The popularity of the Pokémon Trading Card Game was not an accident. While some might be quick to call it an overnight sensation, that actually sells short the effort that went into the Pokémon TCG (and the games it was based on).

Released in Japan in October 1996 (just 8 months after the debut of the first Pokémon games), the Pokémon TCG was one of the first major additions to what would become a vast pipeline of Pokémon merchandise. While clearly inspired by the incredible success of the Magic: The Gathering franchise, as well as Pokémon collectible cards released by Bandai earlier that year, the Pokémon TCG was no mere copycat. Along with being more accessible than other TCGs on the market, the Pokémon card game proved to be a natural extension of the things that made millions fall in love with the original games.

“Ishihara-san, President of The Pokémon Company, loved tabletop/card games and wanted to create a card game which would act as a ‘Physical’ Pokédex and give players another way to experience the Pokémon brand,” said Pokémon TCG director Atsushi Nagashima in an Evening Standard interview. “The idea of a trading card game fit perfectly in line with Pokémon‘s tenets of play, trade, and collect. It also encourages face-to-face play which has been key to the product’s success and longevity.”

By Nagashima’s own admission, though, nobody predicted what happened in late 1998 and early 1999 when Wizards of the Coast brought the Pokémon TCG to North America with the release of the Base Set. Despite the increased availability of the cards, the growth of the Pokémon TCG during this time was partially driven by their scarcity. Mobs of fans stormed stores at the mere suggestion of a new shipment while the value of intentionally manufactured rare cards quickly soared. 

While the Pokémon TCG only grew more successful as the years passed, its dominance on the public consciousness seemed to fade for a while. No, it’s not like we’d look back on an old binder of Pokémon cards and shake our flushed faces in embarrassment, but for a time it felt like the Pokémon TCG had maybe reached its peak in the ‘90s, a pop culture moment meant to be cherished and preserved in our memory. 

But the Pokémon TCG’s story is far from over… In fact, Pokémon fever is back with a vengeance and has taught us all a little more about the true value of nostalgia.

Gotta Collect ‘Em All

“The market right now is insane,” says Peter “Arcashine” Chipouras, a mod on the r/PKMNTCGTrades card trading subreddit and professional card grader. “Stores used to be relatively full of product, and, if you were lucky, something lucrative might still be available. Nowadays, there’s nothing. Everything is bought out. Online retailers can’t restock quickly enough, and even if they do have the product in stock, they price it high to meet the secondary market.”

“Insane” is certainly the word for the sales records being set at the moment. A recent eBay report revealed that Pokémon trading card sales had increased by 574% from 2019 to 2020. Last year, a 1st Edition Charizard card sold for over $295,000. An even rarer version of the card commanded a price of over $350,000. In November 2020, Heritage Auctions sold a box of 1st Edition Pokémon booster sets for $360,000. A similar set had gone for $198,000 just two months before. 

You expect older cards to become more valuable over time. What’s impressive, though, is that this buying craze has extended to modern Pokémon TCG cards, too 

“Even at the lowest level, we’re seeing sets that are normally printed to demand facing huge droughts of product,” Chipouras says. “Regular pack prices are typically $4.00 at retail stores, and usually around $3.00, give or take, on the secondary market. Recently, they’ve been pushing $7-$8.00 each.”

The extent of this shortage even impacted a recent McDonald’s promotion that offered limited supply Pokémon TCG cards with every Happy Meal. Across the country, stores were mobbed by enthusiastic buyers willing to buy dozens of Happy Meals simply for the card packs in their containers. Things have gotten to a point where The Pokémon Company has had to issue a rare statement regarding these shortages alongside a promise that more cards are on the way. 

This too may seem like it came out of nowhere, but that’s not really the case. As of March 2020, over 30 billion Pokémon TCG cards have been sold worldwide. Mobile game Pokémon GO has generated over $4 billion in revenue since 2016. The latest Pokémon games (Sword and Shield) have sold over 20 million units in a little over a year. The consistent success of the Pokémon franchise means it’s always been more “susceptible” to spikes that elevate the already impressive baseline popularity of the series. Millions are ready to become obsessed with Pokémon again at a moment’s notice.

But why is the Pokémon TCG specifically experiencing such a resurgence right now? It seems to come down to a couple of key factors. 

“One side is financial, where you’re seeing a lot of kids that grew up with the first Pokémon games finally hitting an age where they’re well into their careers and have access to disposable income,” Chipouras says. “Pair that with stimulus checks, and there’s a massive amount of capital available for those who want to invest in the hobby.”

There’s certainly something to be said about the influence of Covid-19 lockdowns on the growth of the Pokémon TCG market given the timeline of the boom. Last year, fans on Reddit were debating whether or not it was better to wait out the quarantine price surges and availability drops. Many suggested waiting things out, but the hype never really settled down.

Pokémon as a long-term investment may sound about as solid as the recent GameStop stock boom, but it’s more than that. Beyond short-term sales meant to make the most of the current market, periods of Pokémon popularity spikes such as this one strongly suggest that cards can (and often do) retain value. That’s likely a big part of the reason why professional grading service Collector’s Universe was acquired for $700 million by an investment group.

The idea that the current market is being propelled by fans who now have the disposable income to spend on cards really is the most interesting and impactful factor at play, though. It’s a movement that many older Pokémon fans are contributing to, but there’s a specific group of buyers who are clearly leading the charge.

“Influencers [are] coming into the space and exposing, or re-introducing, a huge number of people to the hobby,” Chipouras says. “Not only are they driving prices for the most expensive collectibles in the hobby sky high, they’re also creating highly edited, viral content about doing just that.”

The Celebrity Factor 

In 2017, a man known as Gary “King Pokémon” appeared on Pawn Stars with a collection of Pokémon cards that can only be described as one of a kind.

While he asked for $500,000 for the collection, he insinuated he wasn’t really interested in selling the cards for even that amount. He was right to hesitate. Some of the individual cards in that collection now command prices close to that $500,000 figure.

Cut to 2020 when controversial vlogger Logan Paul decided to visit that Pokémon card trader with $150,000 in cash. After a highly produced spectacle topped off by negotiations, Paul was able to convince Gary to part with one of his Charizard cards. Earlier that month, Paul had posted a video that showed him unboxing a $200,000 box of 1st Edition cards. It’s one of the most notable examples of the kind of slick content that has propelled the market to often absurd heights. 

The role of influencers certainly tracks with the timeline of TCG’s market resurgence. While YouTubers such as Derium and UnlistedLeaf have built careers off unboxing videos, card discussions, and similar Pokémon TCG content, it’s when some of the more mainstream names in the streaming and vlogging world got into the action that we saw prices and popularity skyrocket. Remember that box of cards that Paul bought for $200,000? It’s similar to the one that sold for nearly $400,000 a couple of months later. 

Sadly, that celebrity-assisted boom also unearthed some of the unfortunate elements of the scene. Consider, for instance, the story of Jake “JBTheCryptoKing” Greenbaum who was introduced to many people by Paul as a Pokémon card expert. Some who watched early Paul videos with Greenbaum expressed their concern that he was overvaluing cards either due to a lack of knowledge, a desire for personal gain, or a combination of both. In October 2020, Greenbaum helped the YouTube channel Dumb Money acquire what was described as a box of 1st Edition Pokemon TCG booster packs for $376,000. Shortly into the opening process, it was discovered that the box was fake. Examples of such scams and incompetency have been around for years, but the potential costs are higher than ever. 

Yet, the most prevalent negative impact of the Pokémon TCG resurgence is one that will be all-too-familiar to anyone who has tried to purchase high-profile items online, especially in the last couple of years. 

“One class of purchaser that’s come to the forefront this year are the botters,” Chipouras says. “Even normal collectors who just wait for a product to go live may miss out because the bots can immediately checkout hundreds or thousands of products in seconds.”

Again, the role of scalpers is nothing new, but just as with the PlayStation 5 and Xbox Series X last year, a new generation of bot technology can make online purchases of Pokémon TCG cards from certain outlets nearly impossible. Scalpers and scammers aren’t necessarily misrepresenting the popularity or value of the Pokémon TCG market, but much like the online celebrities throwing unheard of amounts of money at these cards, they are contributing to a raised barrier of entry for more casual collectors who must navigate low inventories, high prices, and delayed productions just to get their hands on a few packs. 

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Yet, it must be said that the role of celebrities and influencers has been far from a universal negative. The publicity generated by their content reminded people of the love they still harbor for the Pokémon TCG scene and gave many a new way to experience a sense of community during quarantine. Stories of such extravagant purchases may make your eyes roll, but they also open your eyes to a movement that is inherently fascinating.

Besides, the pleasure of watching someone open and discover Pokémon cards goes beyond guilt. Dr. Pamela Rutledge of the Media Psychology Research Center says that part of the appeal of unboxing videos can be attributed to our “mirror neurons” which ensure that “people watching someone can experience the same emotions.” Incredibly, they can also trigger “the muscles in your body that would be required if you were trying to open the box.” Those of us who watched one of the many Pokémon TCG unboxing videos over the last year can attest to the unique thrill of that sensation. 

And yes, while there are some celebrities who undoubtedly only got into the scene to follow trends or flex their success, many more are just trying to recapture something important to them — or perhaps make up for lost time. There’s no better example of that than the rapper Logic, who posted these words to his Instagram account shortly after spending $183,812 to acquire a rare Charizard card:

“When I was a kid I absolutely loved Pokémon but couldn’t afford the cards. I remember even trying to trade food stamps for theirs and now as an adult who has saved every penny he has made being able to enjoy something that I’ve loved since childhood now as a grown man is like buying back a piece of something I could never have, it’s not about the material it’s about the experience.”

That’s what we mean regarding the value of nostalgia. It’s not just about money; it’s about our shared emotional investment in these cards and how the money strangely represents it.

Pokémon Party Like It’s 1999

Have you wondered why Charizard pops up so often as the star of the most valuable Pokémon cards? Some of it has to do with the power level of the cards in question and their relative rarity, but the most amusing contributor to their value is the simple fact that people love Charizard. 

In a 2019 poll that saw over 52,000 Reddit users cast a vote for their favorite Pokémon, Charizard was ranked number one. A 2020 poll conducted by the Pokémon Company named Charizard as the fourth most popular Pokémon following an extensive fan voting competition. Numerous outlets have named Charizard the coolest Pokémon or awarded the character similar distinctions. 

The authors of the book Pikachu’s Global Adventure: The Rise and Fall of Pokémon theorize that Charizard may be most popular with older male fans drawn to the character’s comparative toughness and the idea that this evolution cycle represents a departure from childhood. This theory meshes with the comments and demographics of notable top Charizard buyers, but when you get to the heart of it, there’s just something about Charizard’s design that has resonated with Pokémon fans and stayed with them throughout the years. 

There’s also something to be said about the impact of the 30-year nostalgia cycle. As noted by Patrick Metzger in an article for The Patterning, it generally takes about “30 years for a critical mass of people who were consumers of culture” to turn to the art and culture that “helped them achieve comfort and clarity in their world.” More importantly, creators will “indulge in the ‘new’ nostalgic trend that’s being repurposed” in an attempt to “revive that same zeitgeist.” It’s part of the reason why the 1950s were big in 1980s America, why the 1980s were big in the 2010s, and it’s almost certainly part of the reason we’re seeing Pokémon re-emerge in such a big way now. 

It’s not just Charizard either. In the eBay sales report that revealed Charizard was the top-selling Pokémon card, the most popular athlete among sports trading card collectors was none other than Michael Jordan, another legendary figure from the ‘90s who recently experienced a popularity resurgence as a result of the success of The Last Dance documentary series. 

There’s something funny about Charizard and Michael Jordan sharing this pop culture moment. Both were superstars of their era, and both remain the faces of their respective fields: Pokémon and the golden age of ‘90s basketball. 

So before you begin to feel like you’re just caught under the wheels of nostalgia, consider that two of the earliest beneficiaries of what will almost certainly be a prolonged ‘90s revival never really lost value in the first place. We don’t look back on them solely because of nostalgic memories: we look back on them because their greatness never really left us. 

As a kid, you probably tried to justify your Pokémon collection to someone on the basis that it would one day grow in value. It’s not that it wasn’t true (it clearly was) but if you were really only thinking about the monetary value of Pokémon, you would have kept everything in mint condition rather than play with it all. It was really always about much more than that. 

It feels like something similar is happening today. Yes, there are people who purchase Pokémon cards solely as an investment, but there’s a real sense that even some of those fans who talk about these cards as an investment are under the same spell as in the ‘90s. Pokémon cards do often go up in value, but if it’s just about the money, there are better investments out there. On some level, people are “investing” six figures in Pokémon cards because they want a shiny cardboard dragon and they’ve wanted it for a long time. 

That’s the true value of nostalgia. It’s not just about sales themselves but how these cards still make us feel decades later.

The high prices of Pokémon cards don’t speak to us just because they make us wish we’d kept those binders full of cards. Those absurd figures are also an easy way to convey how we felt when we shared the excitement of combing over those cards with friends all those years ago. 

The post How the Pokémon Trading Card Game Boom Brought Back Pokémon Fever appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3gLHMBt

[recentanimenews]

FEATURE: How The Pokémon Trading Card Game Became a Recent Gold Rush

  A few days ago, as part of the cross-medium celebration of Pokémon’s impending 25th anniversary, McDonald’s released a Happy Meal set emblazoned with Pikachu’s iconic face and carrying a special pack of new collectible cards. It isn’t the first time these little monsters have appeared under the Golden Arches, as the Pokémon franchise has a long (and sometimes infamous) history with fast-food chains. However, this particular promotional exercise quickly grew sour, forcing The Pokémon Company International to release this statement about replenishing their goods on Twitter:

  We’re aware that some fans are experiencing difficulties purchasing certain Pokémon TCG products due to very high demand. In response, we are reprinting impacted products at maximum capacity to ensure more fans can enjoy the Pokémon TCG. More info here: https://t.co/sClZo3BXsp

— Play Pokémon (@playpokemon) February 10, 2021

  What happened? Well, scalpers. People have been purchasing the Happy Meals in bulk (and apparently just entire boxes of the cards as well) aiming to resell them at a higher price now that all of those Charmanders are becoming scarce. Meanwhile, stores are having their whole Pokémon card stock bought, leaving aisles that were once close to bursting with merchandise empty and desolate. Of course, scalping products is nothing new; A UK Member of Parliament introduced a bill as recently as February 3 that would attempt to prevent or at least cut down on the scalping that ran rampant during the PlayStation 5’s troubled release in 2020. That a government employee has announced in the midst of several global crises, “We need to give everyone an equal chance to play Spider-Man: Miles Morales” really says something.

  However, this wave of adults buying potentially profitable Pokémon trading cards is nothing new either, especially when you look at the last few months. Ranging from celebrities like Justin Bieber (showing off his collection), Logan Paul (who may have kicked off this whole thing), several WWE performers (who just seem to want cool cards,) to big spenders (that have sometimes gotten scammed in the process) and various auction winners, Pokémon cards have become a hot item on a mass scale for the first time in about two decades. The days of “A holographic Charizard? That must be worth, like a billion dollars!” have returned from the crypt of 1999, only this time, it’s playing out in front of us.

    A lot of this interest is not only fueled by the obvious financial impetus, but the inherent nostalgia of the Pokémon franchise, one that saturates every part of its wide array of games, series, and products. From the first time you interact with your home’s TV in Pokémon Red and Blue — which makes a reference to a scene from Stand By Me, a movie  based around dealing with how we remember the past and our youth — the video game series has existed with one foot in the future and one in the past. When Satoshi Tajiri created Pokémon, his aim was to recapture the feeling he got collecting bugs in the rural wilderness near his hometown, one that was quickly being paved over during rampant urbanization.

  So to see these being opened, and to see the people we watch, enjoy, and perhaps even idolize burst with delight over that special card they couldn’t collect when they were a kid, brings a wave of sentimentality. I mean, it’s Pikachu? How can you not like Pikachu? But what we’ve seen over the past few months has effectively been a Pokémon Gold Rush, with people discovering the jewels and rushing to openly collect, perhaps preserve, and possibly sell later. And it’s…troubling. 

  Mainly because it calls into question how we approach buying children’s media in the first place. Every time a new Star Wars or Marvel film hits theaters, we’d become flush with news about tickets selling out in seconds, leaving stragglers (or people without a pristine internet connection) unable to get their coveted opening night spot. These, too, fall prey heavily to scalpers who know just how much we want to enjoy whatever Iron Man is up to lately. But the pushback against these rarely feels ubiquitous. While they are definitely pieces of media built for kids, our reasoning behind this rush to buy and/or sell is much more “Better luck next time, sucker!” and much less “Hey, my son wanted to see that.”

  Pokémon has not yet reached the “It’s for kids AND adults” plateau that these other franchises have ascended to when it comes to our consciousness of it in the United States. And this is possibly because it wasn’t made in the US, leaving many eternally scrambling to see how it fits in our pop culture-sphere occupied by other various mega-series. So the ethical dilemma here is much more open. Because yeah, if a McDonald’s is out of cards and you’re a second grader being taken through the drive-thru, you probably will be pretty disappointed when you hear that a bunch of twenty-somethings bought 100 Happy Meals. That would suck. 

  If you collect the cards on a consistent basis, learning that the latest set has been bought out in total in the latest step of a frenzied trend would also be a bummer. If you go online, these McDonald’s cards are everywhere, with prices ranging from “That’s too cheap and possibly a scam” to hundreds of dollars. It turns the Pokémon Trading Card Game into a system of people wealthy enough to buy them, selling them back and forth to those wealthy enough to purchase them. It brings true the dystopian toy store vision found in newspapers in the late ‘90s and early aughts which saw parents decrying the cute little money sinkhole that had enraptured their children. Except, this time, it’s people old enough to have grown up with the franchise. 

    It’s also hard not to look at it as a contrasting vision of the WallStreetBets/GameStop controversy from mere weeks ago, which saw people exploiting the tricks that hedge fund owners had used to amass millions off the stock market. There, the buying and selling was almost heroic, proving that a system that had formerly locked out all of those without the financial means and know-how to participate could be overturned and ridiculed. Here, though, it’s something else — social media clout, influencer tactics, and boatloads of dollars (and potential boatloads of dollars) attaching themselves to Pokémon, which is often seen as remarkably innocuous. 

  When Pokémon first made its blockbuster debut in the US, it came with the catchphrase “Gotta catch ‘em all!” — a tagline and mission statement that appeared on video game boxes and in anime ending themes alike. It went everywhere the franchise went, affirming that Pokémon didn’t have to be something you collected in part. In fact, it was better if you played the games, bought the cards, watched the show, and filled your Super K-Mart bag with figurines. While this slogan has more or less departed from Pokémon merchandise, it remains the series’ branding alpha and omega. You must collect. It is the feature, not the bug. 

  I’m not saying this is what Nintendo intended when they urged you to nab both Red and Blue in order to amass all 150, but it does feel like the dark side of that ethos. I do think that buying up all the Happy Meals at your local McDonald’s in order to find people willing to pay $10 for a Squirtle does sound ridiculous and I do think kids should be able to get all the Pikachus their heart's desire, but that’s just me. I also think this new phase of the card game didn’t come out of nowhere. It’s just laid dormant, waiting to evolve. 

      Daniel Dockery is a Senior Staff Writer for Crunchyroll. Follow him on Twitter!

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features.

By: Daniel Dockery

[anotheraldin]

Find yourself waiting at one of the many vibrant railway terminals scattered across the Indian landscape for a few hours and you learn a lot about the country. Yes, gazing into the depths of your gracefully aging cell-phone, the greatest repository of information ever manufactured, might afford you some valuable insight into the political realities shaping your world, but as the battery starts to fade, and you come to grips with the reality that there are no charging pods in railway stations probably built through the hard labor of your forefathers under the occupation of the British (stations they would later suggest was a vital service provided by their colonialism, something the inferior races should be greatly appreciative of), you reluctantly submit to the unyielding badgering of your mind telling you to put your phone away lest you need it later only to find it as dead as your general awareness when on the tiny device. 

And as you shove your phone into your pocket, the deep crevice of an otherwise delicate kurta, forced to stare out into the abyss of an underdeveloped world – you slowly start awakening to the reality of your circumstance. At this very moment, you’re witnessing the breath of this land as it breaths, its heart as it beats, its soul as it clamors. You awaken to the realization that – in that very pensive ambiance – you’re experiencing the social realities that shape those very political ones of which you were attempting to gain insight as you creased, in frustration, the edges of your eyebrows peering into your phone.

Wait for an hour and you find yourself confronted by an Indian Bruno Mars. Rather, the vocals of Bruno Mars were it to bellow its melodious tunes to an upbeat Bhojpuri funk with similar spirit and angst. As you see him carrying a bucket and mop, going bogey to bogey on a momentarily abandoned passenger train, finally making his way over to your bench and courteously asking you to lift your feet so that the mop could clean the filth that lay underneath - you can’t help but wonder the circumstances which brought him in front of you.

Images flash before your mind of a singer, the likes of many that reside practicing their vocals within the passing alleyways leading to your small room in a pitiable part of the inner city. Guys sitting beside you during lunchtime in small shacks as they eat a few pieces of bread with lentil soup, the one meal on which they must persevere the entire day in pursuit of their dreams. You see them joking and belittling each other (as young men often do), completely unperturbed with the knowledge of the inevitable end to their dreams. If lucky enough, they’d join a street band performing at the countless daily marriages which take place across this nation, wearing bright attire from a different generation, and making just enough to feed themselves and their children the same two pieces of bread and soup once or twice a day. And if they weren’t lucky enough, then they – much like our Bruno – would have to grab a mop as their instrument of choice and strive to make ends meet the best they could. Yet despite all that, they would still sing atop their chords with the same fervor of those celebrities living lavishly, swimming in the adoration of an ocean of fans. A childish perseverance that refuses pity.

Wait for another hour and pity catches up with you in the form of an elderly man as he rolls his paraplegic body on a cart towards you in shame, extending his hands in hope of some sustenance. With the cheekbones of John Wayne, and arms sun-burnt with what resembles decades of hard labor – you again begin to wonder at what led him to submit his dignity in front of you. 

You see flashes of a hardworking man. One that would lift bricks – a crown of honor on the turban above his head – as he carried them from one end of the construction site to another. You see how, after working in this life for decades supporting his family and loved ones the best he could, he was crushed under a misplaced foundation as it fell upon his tired knees – the fault of contractors and owners as they forced their laborers in haste, those that would laugh at the notion of safety as one would laugh at the punchline to a bad joke. And yet, as those contractors fell soundly asleep that very same night – next to their unconcerned wives and children – this man wept at the cards he was just dealt. As he stared into the eyes of his aging wife weeping next to him in the hospital bed, and at the tears of his young children that could no longer be afforded an education – he lost, in that moment, the honor with which every man is sent – a right bestowed at birth by his Lord. 

And yet, as he accepted his fate, he did the only thing he knew possible. In order that he may keep feeding his children, he bought a small cart on which to support his body and started begging strangers for their mercy. Strangers that, in turn, would mock him or claim that he was running a business and reminisce about the affinity of the poverty stricken towards scamming the truly poor hardworking middle and upper class citizens who earn their wealth. Projections of their own miserable insecurities, hearts that would make even stones weep in envy. And yet this man persevered, losing a bit of himself every time as he extended his hand forth – knowing very well he would most likely receive nothing but arrogance and judgement – the image of his children hungry at home flashed before his eyes, motivating him as he continued from person to person seeking the only potential for help afforded to him in an otherwise unforgiving society.

Wait for a third hour and you see a couple, husband and wife, walking behind what seems to be a bright young woman – their daughter no doubt – leading them towards a train that had just arrived moments prior and parked in the terminal next to yours. Your curiosity grows for a moment, wondering why they’re holding on to her as they make their way towards the platform, only for it to quickly dissipate once you see the whites of their eyes fogging what lies beneath. You see these three making their way back and forth, clearly struggling to find the right bogey – but as they climb each and every single wrong one, you see this woman grabbing a hold of her parents and gently helping them up and down, clearly sweating herself but not letting the struggle reflect in her voice. A voice which only answered in the affirmative to any request of her ailing parents. You see them as they finally sit down for a moment in the bench next to yours. Clearly tired from the search, she walks over to the nearby counter serving snacks and, unrolling the crevices of her frayed sari, she reveals a meager twenty rupee note with which she purchases a bottle of rail neer (water). Walking back to her parents, she gently opens the bottle and lifts it up to their lips, slowly quenching their thirst with her own bare hands. After a few more minutes, she finally gets up once again – leaving them in search of the right bogey on her own – and, upon finding the proper one, returns quickly to take them to their assigned seats. And as they pass from view, you find your attention start to divert once again. 

You remember your own past, the time you worked at a nursing home. You remember the elderly woman that would make her way out to the front gates of the residence daily in wait for her son, only to return in disappointment every time. You remember conversing with another elderly abandoned mother, “son, do you know why I’m here?” “Why, ma’am?” you hesitate to respond. “Because I wasn’t wanted elsewhere,” she replies in a somber tone that reflects both a deep sadness, and a profound acceptance of her miserable fate. As you see the train start to depart half an hour later, their bogey passes by you and you catch one final glimpse of them sitting together – a picturesque memory of the perseverance required to be a family in India.

Wait for a fourth hour and you feel a slight tug at the hem of your cloth. A young girl, no older than six or seven, with shadows of dust marking the edges of her browning hair and a tattered frock speaking to her struggle and endurance in the ocean of apathy she must swim in daily. She stares deeply into your eyes, a piercing glance reflecting all the passion and determination of a girl on a quest to save the world. In reality, she seeks only to do her part in providing for her family. 

When she realizes she’s caught your attention, she lifts a handful of pens and with nothing but the absolute surety of a completed sale she asks, “How many would you like?” “None,” you reply. Bothered by an already prolonged delay, the only thing crossing your mind is the forethought of the soothing sleep only a gently rocking train can afford to provide. What need do you have for a pen? She doesn’t budge. Shooting a frustrated glance across your way, she repeats, “How many would you like?” “Leave me alone,” you beg. “No,” she replies, “Buy a pen.” “I don’t have money,” you lie. “Buy a pen,” she retorts, clearly seeing through your slowly weakening defenses. “I don’t need it,” you try to utter only to be stopped, “Just buy it.” “Here, just take some money and leave. I’ll lose the pens anyways –” you plead. “No, I don’t beg for money,” she cuts you off defiantly, almost offended at even hearing such a preposterous notion. “Okay,” you finally succumb to the barrier of resolve relentlessly tugging at your knees. As her stern glare finally breaks, and a smile blossoms from the edges of her arched dimples, she reaches down and hands you your pens quickly grabbing the cash extending from your hands. And when she gleefully skips away, glad to have made the sale of five pens (a number whose mystery you have yet to solve), you glance down to see that you’ve wholly overpaid five rupees from the total cost of those pens. Too tired to grow angry, you instead choose to reflect on what these five rupees may mean to her. 

Maybe she wakes at the break of dawn, in a hut made of straw and mud much like the other houses in the area, and grabbing a frayed bucket she heads out to the nearby public well to gather some water for her family as her mother starts trying to scrape together whatever pieces of bread and soup may have been left over from the previous night’s meager provisions in order to make her children breakfast. As this young girl and her siblings finish their meals, just barely enough to keep their backs from arching, she grabs her stash of pens – given to her by her father who’s left for the week towards the coal mines in the locality just to provide pennies for his family – and heads out to do her part. How many streets must she have crossed that morning – seeing other pretty young girls her age with hair glistening in the sunlight, spreading the crisp scent of coconut from the oil their mothers must have applied on them before sending them on their way? How many clean frocks and white socks must she have encountered heading to school while she turned towards the station? How many backpacks must she have seen being carried, containing anything from notebooks and erasers to sharpeners and even pens? Pens much like the ones she held in her quivering hands as she made her way to the train station? Pens which helped feed and sustain her, the same pens – at that very moment – being irreverently discarded by those other children in the carefree pursuit of their education? 

Despite your original efforts not to, you begin to grow in anger. Anger not at the fact that she took those extra five rupees from you, but that you didn’t accidentally slip her some more. Anger that you’ve lived your whole life in a haze of ingratitude and anger that you’ll probably return to this state of ingratitude once the memory of this poor girl starts to fade. This girl woke up today much like how she woke up yesterday and will do so again tomorrow, her life depending on the unwavering perseverance for which she must resolve her being lest she perish as a mere statistic, one which politicians will abuse for power, and the masses will continue to ignore for something more entertaining and distracting from their own miserable, empty lives.

Wait for a fifth hour and your face finally lights up. As you see your train slowly approaching the terminal – all those people around you start to become distant memories. You quickly bounce up, and upon finding the correct bogey, you make your way to your bed in anticipation of the long, relaxing journey that lies ahead. But after you’ve laid down the sheets, shown the conductor your ticket, called your loved ones to let them know you’re still alive, and curled up next to the pillow on which you’ll soon fall asleep – all those individuals simultaneously start returning in the form of overwhelming sensations that envelope your entire being. You think about where you are and what really defines this place. And as you start reflecting on the events of the evening, you happen upon a compelling reflection.

You realize that what defines life for many in India, and maybe even for those all across the developing world, is that very same perseverance you've been witnessing repeatedly these past few hours. You realize how much you’ve taken for granted your entire life, whether it be the material – in pens or money – or the abstract – in education and wealth. You realize that living in the developing world means having to strive and persevere on a daily basis in order to be afforded what you otherwise considered an afterthought. You realize that having a family isn’t a right, but a blessing for which people strive their whole lives to sustain. You realize that being able to fall asleep every night with a full stomach isn’t a right, but a treasure striven for and earned through the sacrifice of blood and sweat. You realize that having a good education isn’t a right, but a privilege from which people far more deserving remain bereft.

And you realize that, ultimately, living here – or indeed anywhere in the developing world – means persevering against all odds to survive, waging a war in the pursuit of contentment against a tide that seeks to drown all but those that remain swimming until they’re blessed to strike shore.

-Muzammil Ahmad.