#(Friend I noticed you have a Subaru and his 'number one fan' could not keep from bugging him)

[mukamixinxblood]

@tearsforgctten

“Subaru-chan! There you are! It’s been a while. Have you been hiding from me?”

[volleychumps]

Hello!! Can I request for Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, and Kuroo to you getting hit in the face by their spike or serve and like you pass out..? tysm I love your writing sm!!!! You’re my favorite writer on this app probably

:’)) These will be written before anything significantly romantic happens and they start dating, I hope you enjoy!!

Accidental Ambush w/ Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, and Kuroo

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Bokuto

“Bokuto-san, should you really be trying out a spike you’ve never tried before with full force?” 

Akaashi Keiji sighs, watching with a tired stare as the nationally-known spiker grins, gold-eyes gleaming with excitement as the owl-haired boy spins the ball in his hands for good measure. 

“Learn to live a little, Akaashi!! If I’m gonna be the bestest spiker in the world-” 

“Bestest isn’t-” 

“-then I’ve gotta have more tricks up my sleeve!” 

The banter between the two had kept both boys occupied as you entered the gym, planning to grab the sneakers you left behind from practice with the girl’s basketball team. In doing so, you eye the two as the darker haired one finally obliges to set for the over-hyped boy, causing you to pause. 

It wasn’t every day you got to see the skills of one of the top spikers in the nation up close. Realizing neither had noticed you, you hum, leaning against the wall as you think that it wouldn’t hurt to watch from a distance. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was for the ball to come hurtling in your direction, so fast and uncontrolled you hadn’t even been able to react as the weight of the ball knocks you off your feet, feeling the ground hit your back as the impact causes you to begin to lose conciousness. 

Bokuto Kotarou’s jaw drops as Akaashi’s slackens a little, both pairs of eyes widening as the last thing you hear is the sound of sneakers on the squeaky gym floor as Bokuto looks down at your limp figure in shock. The ball bounces away, leaving a trail of blood coming from out your nose. 

“Shit! Shit Shit SHIT OH MY GOD DID I KILL HER?!” 

“No, I...don’t think so.” 

“THINK? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY ‘THINK’, KAASHI?!”

“Yelling won’t change the fact that you just hit one of the captains of the girl’s basketball team.” 

“YOU SET THE BALL!” 

“You wanted me to set it, so techinically, you did this.” 

Bokuto’s golden eyes dim down a little, a wilt to his shoulders as he scoops you up carefully, guilt bouncing around his chest as he brushes some hair out of your face, Akaashi crossing his arms when Bokuto seems to gaze at your face for a second. 

“Um...are you gonna take her to the nurse, or is something supposed to happen-” 

“Right! Right, the nurse.” 

When you finally gain conciousness, your first reaction is to sit up quickly, groaning as soon as you did. What the hell happened? 

You blink when you’re immediately pushed back down again, but slower and gentler this time as the owl-haired boy in front of you gives you a nervous grin, golden eyes looking a tad sad as he begins to ramble. 

“You’re awake!! Do you want money? I can buy your lunch! Shoot shoot, uh...a goldfish! How about I buy you a goldfish?” 

His words are a tad difficult to process as you blink once, then twice before realizing he had been holding a warm towel to your nose, pink staining the white material as it indicates you had bled. You smile a small grin, pushing his wrist away as Bokuto rubs the back of his neck guiltily. 

“Bokuto...is it? Uh, I’m okay. Really.”  You assure him, telling the truth. Most of the pain had faded away, and you were left with a dull throb in your head. “I just really wanted to see you spike, I should’ve made myself known..”

“Really?” Bokuto’s eyes widen the slightest bit. “You wanted to see me spike?” 

“Yeah, that’s weird, right?” You laugh awkwardly, looking off to the side. “You’re one of the most talented players in our age range, right?”

Bokuto swallows, feeling heat rush to his cheeks as he sees you, slightly bloody nose and all, smile as if he hadn’t just socked you in the face with a volleyball as you openly compliment him to his face. 

The words rush out before Bokuto can think twice. “Do you...want to?”  

“Want to...see you spike?” You arch a brow, surprised as Bokuto nods brightly as he grins, putting the warm towel on your nose again as he brushes some hair out of your face to keep it from getting wet. “I can make a private showing just for you as my apology! I’d just need to get your number...and your name...”

“Y/N.” You attempt to push the towel away again, only for Bokuto to catch your hand, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours as he gives you a half-grin. 

“Whaddya say we make it a date, Y/N?” 

“Depends, are you gonna hit me again?” 

“I’ll definitely be hitting on you, that’s for sure.” 

Akaashi Keiji fights the urge to roll his eyes as he closes the door quietly to the nurses office, wondering how the hell his best friend managed to turn the situation into an opportunity to get a cute date. 

Oikawa

“Ladies, remember: if you’re gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks.” 

“Lame as hell.” 

“Iwa-chan, I’ll give you my attention in a second, okay?” 

Oikawa Tooru misses the flicked off finger in his direction as he continues to talk up his group of fans, grinning his playboy grin at all of them in the middle of the lunch period. Hanamaki coughs as he approaches the middle of the courtyard, choking back a laugh as he examines the situation. 

“Is he really showing them how to serve a volleyball like they actually care?” 

“At least he’s not talking to us.” Matsukawa shrugs, boredly watching as well. “I say it’s a win-win situation.” 

“Show us, Oikawa-Kun!” 

“Yeah, let us see your famous serve up close!” 

“Girls, girls...” Oikawa puts his finger to his lips, winking once. “Promise to keep it a secret?” 

“Hey now...he’s not actually gonna hit it, right?” Iwaizumi sits up fully, drinking his melon juice as he sees his childhood friend actually take position, causing Iwa to choke. 

“Oi, shittykawa, is that really the best-?” Iwaizumi questions through a fit of coughs, but doesn’t manage to finish his thought as Oikawa’s already running to hit the volleyball already set into the air as he hits it towards a space with no students-

or so he thought. 

Through a herd of squeals and praises, chocolate brown eyes widen as your figure enters the direct line of fire, time seeming to slow down as you manage to turn in question at the sound, only for your jaw to slacken. 

The sounds of his fans drown out to Oikawa’s ears as the ball hits you straight in the face, causing you to stumble confusedly as you feel your face go numb, pain slowly taking its’ place afterwards. The distance doesn’t allow the setter to pinpoint exactly who you are, but he begins to move without thinking. 

Oikawa is careless as he pushes aside the girls surrounding him, legs moving so fast before breaking into a run just in time to catch you from falling into the grass. He blinks once, eyes in shock at what he had just done, all to show off for some girls. 

He watches the tears prick your eyes, eyes beginning to flutter shut as his rushed thought process doesn’t realize just who he hit. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I-” 

Oikawa feels a lump grow in his throat as your lips form a simple, yet meaningful smile as the colors in your vision begin to close in on you, his panicked mind still trying to register who exactly he had harmed. 

It’s okay. Your smile seemed to have meant. 

Weren’t you mad? Shouldn’t you be angered that this stuck up pretentious playboy had nailed you right in the face with the oh-so famous serve known to make half the teams in his district tremble at the thought of it? 

“Congrats.” Oikawa feels a familiar hand clasp his shoulder to see Iwaizumi looking down at your now unconcious figure. “You just hit the school sweetheart square in the face.” 

“S-School sweetheart? Shit, wait, Y/N?!” Chocolate orbs widen with realization as his adrenaline-rushed mind finally registers. 

Iwa grins a tad sadistically as Oikawa gapes at the beauty in his arms, now slightly bruised and passed out because of his doing as the setter carefully picks you up, regret brimming his eyes. 

“The one girl in the school you wanted, and you had to hit her? Nice.” 

Ushijima

“WATCH OUT!” 

You don’t have time to do anything of the sort as you had just slid the door open to the entrance of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball club practice room just as Ushijima had nailed another practice spike, this one hitting the inner court so hard it had rebounded back out of control in another direction.

That direction just so-happening to be yours. 

The papers meant for the advisor slip out of your grasp as you try to process what had just happened, hearing the once boisterous gym drain of noise as the ball hits you square in the face. You had known of Ushijima’s scarily powerful spikes, but you had no idea the rebound back could feel like a ton of bricks. 

Ushijima seems to still in place as you faint backwards, eyes widening the tiniest fraction as the rest of the team surround your now blacked out figure, bruise forming on your nose along with a trail of blood. The powerful male slowly raises his hand to examine his palm, eyes betraying no emotion. 

He had done that...to a girl?

“I-Is she dead?” Goshiki whispers as Subaru nudges him, nodding over to a staring Ushijima as he takes in what he had done.

“Y’all are such babies.” Tendou yawns, walking over to begin to wrap your arm around his neck. “She wouldn’t die from something like a rebound, but if it had been the real thing-” 

“Shut up, you ginger.” Semi begins to take your other arm before the culprit’s voice makes him freeze in place. 

“No.” Ushijima’s steps manage to silent the team as they, excluding Tendou and Semi, all take a subconcious step back. They watch in bewilderment as Ushijima takes your unconcious figure with a gentleness they didn’t know he possessed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you into a piggy-back position. 

“I’ll take her. Continue practice.” 

Ushijima ignores the gapes and questioning stares as he walks out of the volleyball room, never had left practice early before for any reason. 

As he walks, feeling your even breaths against the back of his neck as he carries you easily to the nurse, he wonders just what he would say to you when you came to in addition to his apology. 

The stranger on his back seems to shuffle a bit, causing the ace’s steps to slow to a stop. 

“W-What...?” 

“I’m sorry, but try not to sleep. We have to make sure your head’s alright.” Ushijima says straight forwardly, blinking when you hum in agreement, still seeming to be out of it as you nuzzle your face into his neck. 

“Okay...” 

Before Ushijima can tell you not to do that, your next words make him press his lips together. 

“You’re a lot nicer than you look, you know?” You seem to slur, head lolling on his shoulder. “Sweeter too.” 

Thump.

Ushijima pauses for a few moments, beginning to walk again before stopping abruptly, grip on your legs relaxing as he feels your breathing even back out again. 

Wait. 

...thump?

Kuroo

“Kuroo, you’re hitting too hard.” 

“I don’t care!” The captain fumes as he grabs another volleyball from the basket, throwing it up to slam it across the gym angrily. “Stupid sensei! I don’t even know if I’ll be able to play in the next game if I have to take those dumb classes.” 

Kenma dodges the ball with a slight movement to his head as he doesn’t tear his gaze away from his console just as it hits the space next to his head. The setter looks up lazily as Kuroo grabs another. 

“I’m telling you, you’re-” 

Kenma’s cut off when he hits the ball again, this time not even bothering to put a spin of direction on it when it suddenly gets slammed outside a nearby open window, followed by a yell of pain. The two childhood friends exchange looks, Kenma getting to his feet with a sigh as Kuroo rushes outside. 

“I told you so.” 

Kuroo’s footsteps bring him to the point of contact, eyes widening at the sight of someone he recognizes leaning on the building for support, a hand rubbing your cheek as tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

“Shit! Are you okay?” Kuroo questions hastily as the captain’s heart beats in fear. How could he lose control of his power like that? The two friends watch, one less worried than the other, as you wave it off, laughing a little with a blush on your features. 

Kuroo breathes out the anxiety in his chest at your laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards the slightest bit as you go to say something-

The smile on your face seems to fade as you lurch forward, the impact of the spiked volleyball finally processing in your body as Kuroo catches you swiftly, anxiety back in his chest. 

“Hm. Well, have fun with that.” 

“K-Kenma, what?!” 

Kuroo sighs, annoyed at his best friend as he walks off carelessly, leaving you in the hands of the captain, who looks down at you guiltily before scooping you back up in his arms and back into the empty practice room. 

When you come to, the first thing you see are the eyes of the captain, ice pack on your forehead as you realize your head had been placed in his lap, Kuroo nursing you until you had woken up. 

Startled, you sit up quickly, his forehead colliding with yours as the ice pack falls into your lap. You share a groan, and you scramble out of his hold with a redness to your cheeks that the raven-haired captain couldn’t pinpoint. 

“That couldn’t have felt good.” Kuroo frowns, a hand reaching out to touch your forehead before you turn away, causing him to arch a brow. 

“Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” The captain questions the victim of his doing, and you laugh a little too loudly. 

“U-Um! Nope, I’ve just got to uh- feed my shark-” 

Kuroo catches your arm before you can go, pulling you back down gently. 

“Do I need to kiss you or something to make you stay still?” 

The capain catches on as a pink hue takes over your cheeks as you do as your told, a smirk tickling the corner of his lips. 

“Y/N L/N, right?” 

“You know my name?” You squeak, only prompting Kuroo to come even closer as his feral eyes seem to keep you from running. 

“I heard through the grapevine someone of the sort had a crush on me all of last year.” 

You blanch, finding movement in your legs again as you ignore the dull throb in your head. Kuroo puts an arm on the opposite side of you, resting it on the bleacher as he leans even closer, seeming to trap you. 

“What I didn’t hear however,” 

The ice pack in your lap continued to melt. 

“Was that the girl who liked me was this cute.” 

[bbdaydreams]

Courage My Love// Semi Eita

Pairing: Semi Eita x Reader

Summary: You like Semi and come up with a plan to confess to him, unfortunately it takes a turn. You meet again a couple years later by chance.

Chapter Four: Disappear

Warning: suggestive nsfw. Nothing explicit at all. STORY TAKES PLACE AFTER HIGH SCHOOL MEANING THEY ARE NO LONGER MINORS.

Series Masterlist•<previous•next>

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“Does he sing to all your music while you dance to "Purple Rain"? Does he do all these things, like I used to?”

���Eita! Stop! You’re making us depressed with all the sad songs you’ve been writing!” Ranmaru told the lead vocalist.

Semi put his palm over the strings of the acoustic guitar so they’d stop ringing and let his body relax against the cold wall behind him. “Sorry, can’t help it,” he mumbled.

Semi never got his chance to talk to you after graduation. He did notice that you only blocked his number and not his social medias but that was all he needed to know that you didn’t want to talk to him. He didn’t want to send you a direct message, solely because he was scared you’d end up blocking him on whatever platform he used. The last thing he wanted was to be completely out of your life. Even though he isn’t directly in your life, he still wants to support you from the side lines. Funny how things used to be the other way around.

“Guys, we should make him a tinder,” Subaru spoke.

“What? No! I don’t want one! I’m not ready,” Semi huffed.

“Eita, it’s been like three years. You’re twenty one now. I’m sorry but we’re tired of seeing you like this all the time. We can’t relate to what you’re going through but we can empathize with you. We can imagine how much pain you’re in and we want to help you,” Jiro argued.

“I’ve gone on a couple dates already and they were all bad. What’s talking to even more strangers gonna do?”

“Show you that there’s other people out there. I know you’ve seen me in an out of relationships a lot but I don’t regret a single one. They’ve each taught me something. Also I’m gonna be very blunt, you can’t miss what you never had. You’ve got to let go dude,” Ranmaru added.

“But I-“

“No Eita, you didn’t have them. You were only friends. Just give a chance? Please,” Subaru finished.

Semi took a look around the room before nodding his head yes. He could guess that his band mates were probably tired of dealing with him. They’re in college now trying to finish their education to have a back up plan since they still haven’t taken off yet but at the end of the day he knew the band comes first. It always has but the band is only as fun as you make it to be. They could play their instruments all they want but they have to play them in a way that fits the mood of the song and since Semi has been struggling with writing more upbeat catchy tunes, the sad boy crap gets repetitive. The others had to accommodate to him because of how much trouble he was having.

“I’ll download it now.”

-

“Y/n! Smile!” Tendou yelled before snapping a picture of you with his phone.

“Tendou, stop!” You laughed while reaching for his phone. He raised his arms to increase the distance and joined with you in your laughter.

“I’m sorry but you’re just so cute.”

You and him were currently walking back to your place from a date. After graduation, Tendou continued school and you moved into a small house with your band mates to make your living situation easier for all of you. You guys have gone on tours and such but you still haven’t had your big break through.

When you got to your home you invited Tendou inside and since no one else was home you didn’t have to greet them all before going into your room. “Whatcha wanna watch?” You asked him as you sat in your bed while flipping through channels.

“I’m down for anything,” he responded, getting into bed with you and attempting to lay on you. Picking a random show, you set the remote down before relaxing and combing your fingers through his hair which was now quiet long and down, different from how he had it in high school.

You two stayed in that position for a couple minutes while your mind started to wander off. Three years since you and the girls, two for Haruka, graduated and chose not to continue with school because the label seemed promising. Your band is currently working on an album after having multiple demos made and working part time jobs to have a more stable source of income. But also three years you spent with Tendou as your lover. And all of that was going to end soon because he was moving across the world for his career.

Three years is a lot of time to spend with someone romantically, especially when you’ve known them for longer. It’s not something you can just up and forget but unfortunately the both of you will have to move on. Tendou was still laying on you peacefully until he left a wet droplet on his face. Immediately he looked up and saw you with your eyes closed in at attempt to stop your tears. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he spoke softly, reaching a hand out to cup your face. You opened your eyes to look at him and gave him a sad smile that he returned. “Even when you cry, you’re beautiful, my paradise.”

Words of comfort was something Tendou never lacked. There was never a single time you’d consider him a bad boyfriend. And you were grateful to have him in your life. “I’m sorry,” you apologized for crying.

“It’s alright,” he laughed before sitting up to kiss you. This was your last day together before he left. Knowing that, you both gradually intensified the kiss that lead to more kisses. Kisses that lead to wandering hands. Wandering hands leading to the action that you both know would be the last time you were intimate together before Tendou left to his home to grab his luggage before heading off to the airport, to take a flight to France.

Once all the aftercare was done you slept in his arms for a good two hours until he woke up from the alarm he set on his phone. He knew better than to leave without saying a word so he woke you up too. “Paradise, wake up. I gotta go.” You unwillingly opened your eyes and rubbed them before focusing on him, his form already up and out of the bed. “I’ll miss you,” he started when he stood at your door, “thank you for giving me a chance.”

You looked at him with glossy eyes as he looked at you with his. Getting up from your bed you managed to make your way towards him to give him a kiss, your guy’s final kiss. Your relationship was now mutually over.

-

“I had so much fun on our date, Semi! You really are a great guy!”

“Thanks, I try,” Semi laughed as he lead the girl he was seeing to his dorm. Semi has been seeing this girl from his government course for about a month now and things seem to be going pretty well so far.

When they got to his dorm, she noticed his guitar and a couple of papers that had scribbles on them. “Oh? You play guitar? And you write music?” She asked innocently.

“Yeah I do.”

“Could you play me a song? Please?”

“Sure. I’ll even sing you one inspired by you,” Semi spoke smoothly. Being in the scene, Semi did pick up a thing or two on how to talk to girls, Subaru called it fan service.

Picking up the acoustic guitar on its stand, he gestured for her to take a seat on his bed while he sat down in a chair across from her. With the pick he retrieved from his pocket he proceeded to pluck each string to make sure it was tuned before playing a couple chords to make sure they sounded good as well. He looked up at her and took note of the smile on her face before looking back down at the guitar and playing a song he had finished writing about her two days ago. When he had finished, he looked up and was greeted with a frown. “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately setting the guitar down and walking towards her to cup her face. “Did you not like the song?”

“Semi, don’t touch me! Who is that song about?” she asked him, standing up so they were more level.

“It’s about you, babe-“

“Don’t call me babe either! Semi, we’re done!”

“What? Why?”

“What do you mean why? There’s clearly someone else! There’s no way that song is about me! My eyes aren’t that color and neither is my hair! I sound nothing like the girl in the song that you claim to love!”

“Let me explain-“

“There’s nothing to explain, Semi! Good night. We’re done,” she finished before walking out and slamming Semi’s door in the process. Burying his face into his pillow, Semi let out a grunt, not realizing his roommate had come in.

“I stopped by the cafeteria after my study group. I brought you a juice,” Subaru offered when he saw the ash blonde face down.

“Not in the mood, dude.”

“Fine. No juice for you.”

-

About two months after you and Tendou split up, your band’s album was released. All four of you were in awe when you first saw your first album in a store.

“It’s like.... our baby,” Haruka stated while looking through the glass.

“I know, right! Our first little baby,” Izumi added.

You and Yui were a couple feet behind them trying to contain your laughter but you had to admit you were just as amazed as them.

“C’mon! Let’s get our own copies!” Yui announced, leading the way inside. The rest of you followed and each picked up a copy ready to purchase it. “Not gonna lie, it makes me feel real fuzzy seeing our name and faces on this.”

“No kidding. We really worked hard for this, didn’t we?” You asked aloud. “Our first of many. Let’s hope Courage My Love can keep up with it.”

Walking towards the counter to pay one after the other the cashier put together that you guys were the ones on the album cover. “Is this you guys?”

“Yep! That’s us,” Izumi smiled. “It’s our first album!”

“Oh my! Congratulations! I recognize this as one of the new ones we got in last nights shipment. I’ll play it throughout the store today to listen,” the cashier told you all.

“Thank you so much, we’d really appreciate that,” you all spoke before heading towards the exit.

Walking through a park on your way to the grocery store, Izumi had a burst of energy she couldn’t help but expel. “We should take a picture!”

“But we have-“ Yui started before she was shushed by the tallest one from the group.

“Shhh- excuse me, sir? Could you take a picture of my friends and I?” she asked sweetly. The older gentleman agreed before asking Izumi how to use her phone. Once she explained to him she told the group what pose they should do. “We should hold them up and just pose with them together!” Complying with her idea, your amateur photographer took a couple pictures before handing the device back to its owner. You all thanked him and looked at the pictures he took before posting it to each of your social medias.

So excited to announce that our album is finally out! You can pick it up anywhere that sells cds or check it out on any music streaming apps. Thank you so much for your support!

-y/n<3

-

“Yo, this music kinda slaps. What band is this?” Ranmaru asked Semi who currently had the aux cord.

“Courage My Love,” Semi responded which resulted in Subaru letting out a loud groan.

“The hell is your problem?” Ranmaru asked the drummer.

“That’s fucking Y/n’s band! No wonder he’s been listening to it on repeat for the past week!”

Ranmaru immediately stepped on the breaks before turning around in his seat to look at Semi. “Eita, I’m only gonna ask once, give me the aux.”

Giving a small glare to the spikey silver haired bassist, Semi spoke, “no.... I don’t wanna.”

“Eita!” Ranmaru roared before leaning his torso to grab the other’s phone.

Jiro sitting in the passengers seat with wide eyes opted to grab the other end of the aux cord and unplug it directly from the source, resulting in everyone else getting quiet at the lack of music. “No more tunes till we get to the venue.”

Even after taking away aux privileges from him, Semi was quick to find a solution and use his headphones instead. He continued listening to your band’s new album, blown away from how much you’ve changed. He regretted everything he did to you but was also inspired by the woman you’ve become.

—————

a/n: just when I think I’m done with angst I write more and I just say oops to that. Also do you guys like the addition of songs for the chapters? Also sorry for all the jumping around during this chapter

Taglist:

@pluviophilefangirl @yourstarvic @sunaswife @mynscorner @syaziahvg @discountkiyoko

[am-i-invisible777]

The Dragon Egg

Here’s just something I wrote for creative writing that I decided to share here. The story is about a middle-schooler named Drake who is convinced he’s found a dragon egg. 

“I have a baby dragon,” Drake whispered to the boy next to him. The boy in return scrunched his face up, refusing to look away from the equation he was struggling to complete. Drake scooted in his seat, leaning toward the boy while keeping his eyes on the preoccupied teacher. “It’s technically still in its egg…but it’s bound to hatch any day now.”

“Leave me alone,” the boy mumbled under his breath, tapping the numbers of the old calculator provided by the school. 

“You wanna know where I found it? Wanna know how I’ve been able to keep a dragon egg hidden away from my parents and the government?” Drake continued, his half-completed math assignment completely forgotten as he looked at the uninterested classmate.  

“No. Shut up.” The boy said, glaring as he wrote down the wrong answer to the equation.

“My dad and I were finally going on this hike he promised me a while back by this trail that’s near Mr. Greenshire’s farms. When I stopped to tie my shoe, I looked over and there’s this big blue egg just chillin by this thorny bush. The second I saw it, I knew it must’ve belonged to a dragon. A real dragon, not those domestic ones.” Drake whispered excitedly, moving his hands along as he recounted the story.

“Dragons don’t exist.” He harshly whispered.

“And so I went over to it and put the egg in my bag before dad could even notice. It was lighter than it looked though. I thought it would be around five pounds max but that thing barely weighed a pound. And so when I got home—"

“Drake. This is an independent assignment. Please focus on your own work and stop talking to Alex.” The teacher called out, causing a few students to look at the two boys.

“Finally,” Alex sighed, writing down another wrong answer. Drake sunk back into his seat, a deep frown forming across his face. With a low sigh, he picked up his chewed pencil with no eraser and began drawing dragons in the margins.

 The last bell of the day rung at exactly 2:18 p.m. and Drake never reached the school bus before 2:20 p.m., except for the two times his class was held in the downstairs library. The school bus was old, with torn seats with dull writing on the backside and gum stuck to the sides and underneath. It was always too hot, the only fan being right next to the bus driver. The yellow bus smelled of mothballs and twenty-eight sweaty students. Sometimes it’d smell like the food someone had snuck in, given the fact it wasn’t allowed on the bus, even though the driver never cared. It wasn’t uncommon for some to have to sit three to a seat, four if someone was bringing their friends over, but Drake never had to worry about that. This time, he sat alone near the front of the bus in the seat right underneath the part of the bus that leaked when it rained. He preferred to be alone anyways.

Despite living in the same neighborhood for nearly his entire life, Drake barely knew any of his neighbors or the kids who always rode the bus with him for the past nine years. He tried to make friends, tried to meet and talk to new people, but it never went well. More often than not nowadays he mostly avoided his classmates, wanting to be by himself or with his close friend and next-door neighbor, Kai.

The bus jerked and squeaked as it came to a stop, its doors whining as the driver forced them open. Drake quipped a quick ‘thank you’ in an octave higher than his normal voice, he jumped down the steps and ran to his house.

He had to check on the egg, the dragon egg. His dragon egg. Upon arriving in his driveway, he noticed the absence of two vehicles, meaning that neither parent was home at the moment. Also meaning that his father was either seeing his new girlfriend or buying something for said girlfriend with the money his mother made since she was the only one in the house who actually worked. It also meant he was stuck going to Kai’s house since he left his key inside as he rushed to make it to the bus on time this morning.

He rung the doorbell twice before stepping back, adjusting the straps on his backpack and taking a moment to glare at the large, ugly sign in the front of the yard, the red letters spelling ‘SOLD’ seeming to mock him. Exactly fifteen seconds later, Kai’s older sister answered the door, letting Drake in as they exchanged a small greeting. Maneuvering around the boxes scattered everywhere and running up the carpet steps, he reached Kai’s door, the first one on the right, and knocked on it twice.

“Come in” Kai’s muffled voice called from just beyond the closed door. Drake swung the door open, not bothering to close it again, and gave his friend a smile.

“Hey Kai. How was the dentist?”

“Meh. They always tell me the same stuff. Floss more, drink less soda, yadda yadda. My wisdom teeth are apparently coming in soon. Weird right? Hope I don’t have to get them removed,” they shrugged, laying on the bed with a history book and highlighter beside them.

“I think it’d be funny,” Drake commented, taking his bag off and sitting on the floor. “Like when Hannah got her teeth pulled and she—”

“Was crying by the slushie machine at the gas station while hugging a puppy keychain? Yeah, no thanks,” Kai chuckled, remembering how their sister had behaved after the anesthetics. “So what’d I miss in Howl’s class?”

“Oh, basically nothing. We just started a new unit. Everyone’s confused,” Drake said.

“Good.”

The two were silent for a few moments, Kai preoccupied with highlighting paragraphs and Drake with staring at his phone, waiting for one of his parents to answer his texts.

“…do you think my dragon misses me?”

Kai sighed loudly, rolling their eyes. “Here we go again…”

“No, seriously. At this point it already knows and recognizes my voice. Also! What if it hatches? And I’m not there? I’ve been thinking about taking a few days off of school to tend to it after it comes into our world. I’ll need to train it,” Drake started rambling, fidgeting with his phone and he shifted uncomfortably on the floor.

“Drake, we’ve had this conversation about a million times before,”

“No, you’ve never paid attention when I talk about it!”

“Well, can you blame me?!” Kai sighed and rolled over onto their back, staring at the ceiling. “For the past, like, five weeks, that damn egg has been the only thing you want to talk about. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of telling you something that a ten-year-old already knows!” Kai turned back over to stare at Drake. “Buddy. Listen to me,” they pointed to their mouth. “Dragons. Don’t. Exist.”

“But—”

“No, no buts. What middle schooler still believes in dragons? Fire-breathing, flying, mythical dragons?” Kai asked, frustrated.

Drake remained silent, looking down at the floor as his hands trembled slightly. Although Kai didn’t raise their voice, Drake still felt like he was being yelled at and wanted to crawl away. “…maybe if the dragon could fly…and grew to be the size of a tree…I could come visit you in California…” he mumbled, his voice weak as he tried to keep it from trembling. Everyone hated it when his voice trembled.

Kai breathed deeply, facial features softening as they watched Drake struggle to keep still. “…I’m sorry, but that’s just…impossible.” They whispered. “I’m tired of talking about dragons…I just wanna have a normal conversation with you before I leave…that’s it.”

“…I gotta go home now,” Drake softly said, standing up with his bag. “…I’ll see you tomorrow.” He dragged his feet to the door and exited before Kai could say, ‘yeah, see you tomorrow.’

After leaving, Drake sat at the front steps of his house, still staring at his phone and periodically texting his parents to see when they were going to be home. He reviewed his list of dragon names while he waited, the notes organized by categories such as gender, color, element, and the presence of wings or not. He decided to erase the name ‘Kai’ from the list.

Precisely nineteen minutes later, he received a text from his father saying he’ll be there in five minutes. Thirty-seven minutes after that, his red Subaru rolled up to the driveway. The first thing he did was yell at Drake for forgetting his key. Once his father let him in, he ran upstairs, ignoring the comments made behind him and threw open his bedroom door. Right on top of his bed, wrapped up in twenty-two different blankets, underneath two lamps, was his baby dragon egg. He walked up to it, slowly and tossing his bag to the floor.

“Hey there little guy, didja miss me?” he asked softly, as if he were speaking to a baby. The egg, of course, didn’t answer. He patted the egg gently. “Yeah, I missed you too, buddy. The day sucks until you’re there.” He carefully moved to sit on the bed. “You can hatch now, you know. I read that you guys stay in your eggs for two months, and I’ve had you for a little over six weeks now.” He started fiddling with his thumbs. “Of course, you can come out at any time you want little friend. I’d just really really like it if you did.”  

Drake looked over to his desk, a large water tank sitting on top of it. “Is it because you don’t like the tank? I found it at a garage sale for real cheap. I kinda assumed you’d be some kind of water dragon since your egg is blue. Do you need a cage? Or a giant hot rock? My bed? I’ll give it to you!” He thought for a few seconds. “Are you not warm enough? Here, you can have my sweater.” He took off his large green hoodie and wrapped it around the already completely covered egg. “…please hatch soon.”

After talking with the egg for a couple of minutes, the front door opened and closed loudly, meaning that his mother was home. Not even three seconds later did both parents get into an argument about Drake not being able to get inside. He groaned and covered his ears, a futile attempt at blocking them out.

“Why, why, why, why…” Drake grumbled. He stared apologetically at the egg. “I’m sorry about them…again.” He sighed. “Dad says Mom’s just “upset” cause of his new girlfriend and Mom says Dad’s upset cause she’s “winning the legal battle” but I don’t care.” He laid down next to the egg. “Here’s another life tip I forgot to mention lil friend. Never take sides when your parents are fighting…you just end up hurt by both of them, no matter what you do and there aren’t any right answers either.” He hugged one of his pillows to keep his hands preoccupied. “…least you’ll never have to know what that’s like.”

Squeak

“What?!” Drake bolted upright quickly, almost knocking one of the lamps down. A small tap taptap tap could be heard coming from the egg, along with tiny squeaks. “Oh, oh…oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, you’re hatching!” A mix of panic and excitement bubbled up from his gut as he moved the lamps away. Pulling out his phone and going into the open page he found about early dragon care, he reread the passage he had looked over dozens of times. “Okay, okay, okay, uhh…”

Drake bounced up, sprinting to the corner of his room where a box had been placed. He lifted it up, retrieving one of the hamburgers from underneath. “Okay, so “The Life of a Dragon” s-says you’re gonna be really hungry when you hatch, so I got your first meal right here,” he said, placing the wrapped burger next to the squeaking egg as he carefully unwrapped the blankets. “It’s okay friend, it’s okay. I’m here. I won’t’ abandon you…I won’t hurt you, I swear, I’m not gonna leave you.” He cooed softly. Large cracks were already forming on one spot of the large blue dragon egg. With every tap tap heard, Drake could see the cracks expand and rise. “You can do it!”

“Drake! Come down here, now!”

Drake froze. In all his excitement, he temporarily forgot the verbal abuse that was taking place in the background.

“Uh, j-just a sec Mom!” he called out, rubbing the egg with his thumbs. “C’mon, buddy, come on…”

“Now!” Her demanding voice called out, louder and angry. Drake was too afraid to move for a second, looking from his door to his egg. With a sad sigh, he gave the egg a quick kiss before running out of his door and down the stairs, just in time to see his father stomp away and slam the door, the house shaking slightly from the force. Ten seconds later, a car engine roared.

Drake looked over to his mother, his fingers trembling and foot tapping against the floor. She sat at the kitchen table, rubbing her temples.

“Drake, would you do mommy a favor and call your father. Tell him he’s not allowed back into this house until he starts paying bills and stops eating all our food.” She wearily said, shaking her head. Drake looked up the stairs.

“…Is…um, is that all, ma’am?” he asked, attempting to keep his voice normal.

“Not yet, where has your father hidden the aspirin this time?” she stood up and looked at him, bags under her red eyes.

“Uh…it’s the…s-second cabinet on the left,” he said, pointing in the correct direction. She nodded her head and turned to the cabinet. Drake took this as his opportunity to run back upstairs.

“Drake, sweetie, before you go upstairs,” she called out as Drake was only four steps away from the top. “Please remember to slow down when you speak and talk clearly, we don’t want to have to send you back to speech therapy. And stop shaking around so much.” He looked down at his twitching hands.

“…Yes Mom!” he tried to say as clearly as possible before leaping up and past the four steps.

Afraid that the egg has already hatched and he’s not there for his new baby dragon, Drake practically fell over himself as he tried to hurry into his room. His phone rang—a call from his father—but he ignored it as he threw his bedroom door open, stumbling inside and looking at his bed. There, right where it was supposed to be, were the remains of the hatched egg. A few inches beside the blue egg shells, sitting down and now staring directly at him, was a goddamn Emu.    

[ollies-outies]

After effects of a main superhero story, the antagonist tries to get life back to basic order, living a simple by-clock job life. They become seriously depressed, especially with reflecting on their mistakes as well as PTSD from the fight with the hero.

hi id like to entitle this piece: “i dont have depression, ptsd, and have only ever had a mild panic attack.” if i fucked anything up pls tell me so i can like? not fuck it up in the future.

[1888 words, warnings for suicide mention and all the other stuff i talked about]

As soon as the plan went sour, they’d all killed themselves. It had been a pact of sorts: better to die than see the plan fail.

But, of course, Benjamin had been too slow.

And now here he was.

He could still see the spot from the window (the stupid fucking McDonalds drive-through window), where Marie had died. He hadn’t been there when she’d pulled the pin, of course. But the giant bite her grenade had taken out of the cement and storefronts that the city still hadn’t managed to fill was all the proof he needed.

A blue Subaru pulled up, cutting off his view of the scene that he didn’t want to see anyways. A lady, bleached-blonde and middle-aged, poked her head out the window. Her knockoff Gucci sunglasses glinted light straight into Ben’s eyes.

“You ordered the salad, right?” He asked, trying to sound cheerful.

“And a coffee,” she said, not putting nearly as much effort into her cheer. As he handed her the food, she lowered her shades, squinting at him. “…you look familiar.”

He got that a lot. Even though he’d worn a mask during his time as public enemy number one, his image had been plastered on every newspaper at least once a week for a solid year or so; that kind of exposure tends to leave an imprint on people’s minds.

He wasn’t worried though. This woman didn’t expect the man who’d threatened to destroy the city on a near-monthly basis to be serving her Micky D’s takeout. So she didn’t make the connection. He shrugged at her. “I’ve just got one of those faces.”

Once the coffee was safely in her seat holder, she rolled up her window and drove away. But not before leaving him with her two cents: “Not with that scar, you don’t.”

Thanks for the reminder, ma'am, he thought at her. He would’ve said it out loud, but McDonald’s policy dictated that he avoid sassing customers. The scar, which ran from his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, and ended in the center of his cheek, had also happened on the day when it all went to shit.

Benjamin preferred not to think about it.

Which meant that, of course, the next five customers were spent actively trying not to think about the scar. Or Marie, or Jacob or Marcus or Lee. It worked about as well as it always did.

Four customers more, and then Alyssa, the manager, called him over. “I’m taking over at the window. You take the counter, ‘kay?”

He nodded. At least then he wouldn’t have to look at the crater. Marie’s crater.

With every customer that came through, Ben became more and more aware of the scar. People would look at him, and he was sure their eyes would flick to the scar for a moment before politely averting their gaze. It had faded over the two years since he’d got it, and he covered it up every morning. Apparently the concealer had rubbed off today.

The scar was throbbing by the time the man walked in. Even in civilian clothing, even after two years, Ben knew that face like the back of his hand: the tree-bark eyes, the dark hair curled like a Greek statue’s, the slightly upturned nose, bent to the left where it had broken and healed long ago.

It wasn’t a face Ben relished seeing.

A cold sweat sprung up between his shoulder blades. His hands started to shake with adrenaline. He looked around for something to do, someone to give the counter to, but Carter was already in front of the register.

To the rest of the world, the man was Solar Flare: protector of Radon Canyon, defeater of extraterrestrial threats, dimensional anomalies, and ‘domestic terrorists’ like what Ben used to be.

Right now, he was Carter Sanchez, complicator of Ben’s already not-great day.

“I’ll have a Big Mac and a cookie, please.” He smiled, and it might have been charming if Ben’s stomach weren’t swirling at the too-familiar, too-intimate smell of Carter’s cologne. Sandalwood. Fresh and woodsy, like a newly cut pine tree.

His fingers punched in the order, like a machine following a code. But his head was racing. Why’s he here? Does he recognize me? Is he here to kill me? Finish what I couldn’t? He wouldn’t. He doesn’t kill. But what if he did?

The food was handed to Ben, who handed it to Carter. For a moment, their hands brushed. Ben forced himself not to jerk away, and focused instead on praying that his shaking was less noticeable than he thought it was.

Carter thanked him and then just. Sat down.

Sat down and didn’t look at Ben again.

He seemed so… Okay. Like he wasn’t constantly thinking about the day two years ago.

And why would he? It was all just another day of work for Solar Flare. It was only Ben’s life that had gone up in flames.

It happened over at the stadium, just a couple blocks east of the McDonalds, and Marie’s Crater. The comm lines had cut abruptly to static as one by one, all of his friends pulled their pins and died, until there was only Ben left.

But he hesitated, like an idiot, and that was all the time Carter needed to knock the grenade out of his hand. When he tried to recover it, he’d been kicked, hard, and sent flying across the rubble left over from a previous battle. A sharp bit of metal scraped across his face as he flew past, cleaving from forehead to cheek. Deep enough to scar. Not deep enough to kill.

Because why would he ever be that lucky?

And then Carter had pinned him down, and asked him how, and why, and all that other stuff bleeding-heart heroes were probably contractually obligated to ask. And he was so close that Ben was suffocating in the sandalwood cologne and the coppery smell of blood pouring from the rift in his face into his eyes.

The sandalwood still lingered at the counter and Ben was having trouble keeping himself in the right moment, in the right place. Carter was still right there, enjoying a fucking Big Mac, oblivious to the presence of one of his greatest enemies not even ten feet away.

Well. Former greatest enemy.

After Marie, Benjamin had stopped. He’d had a cause to fight for - they all did. But without her and the others, it all seemed meaningless.

“Jamie,” she’d said to him, right before it had all gone wrong.  “When we win, you owe all of us ice cream.”

Most likely, she was just trying to lighten the mood. It worked, and he smiled. “Why me?” he’d asked.

“Because it’s your turn, stupid. I bought last time.”

And then they’d all died. But Carter was still there. And he was sitting down and eating a burger, and Ben’s friends were still dead.

A tide swelled up in his chest, threatening to break at a moment’s notice. It hurt, and there was an urgency to it that told him to get out.

He hardly heard the words that came out of his mouth (his throat felt so swollen, he wasn’t even sure if there had been any) to try and tell Alyssa he had to leave for a moment. He managed to make it to the family bathroom and lock the door before his legs gave out. The bathroom had been recently cleaned, and the tang of bleach wafted around him, mingling with the sandalwood still lingering like fog in his mind.

Breath was coming in and out of his windpipe in erratic bursts, like a bird being shook in its cage by a particularly sadistic child.

“Just kill me already!”

“No.” It was infuriating how easily Carter could hold him down. Nobody that dressed in such a ridiculous latex suit had any right being so strong. “You’re going to calm down, and then we’re going to the police.”

Ah, yes. Calm down so he could be handed to the police. Like that wasn’t the same as a death sentence.

He hoped the awful choking noises he was making were drowned out by the bathroom fan. Its low humming crowded his ears and made it hard to think.

Police choppers hummed in the distance, close to where Ben, in a moment of confusion, had managed to give Carter the slip. He was miles away now, in one of the safe houses Lee had hooked them up with.

He was tempted to call his friends, make sure they were on their way safely. But he realized that, of course, they couldn’t respond. Not anymore.

His phone buzzed, knocking him out of the scene.

It was a text from Alyssa. ‘You okay? You’ve been in there for a while.’

Deep breaths, he told himself. In, out, in, out. Bleach filled his nose. Not the most pleasant, but its pungent smell helped root him back in the harshly-lit McDonald’s bathroom.

The sweat was drying, making his shirt stick to the small of his back. He didn’t want to go back to the safe house again. Any of them. Not the one he was staying at now, or any of the others spread around the city. He wasn’t sure if he could stand another night sleeping next to his friends’ ghosts; especially not now.

His legs were shaky, but he managed to push himself up the wall into a standing position.

‘I’m fine,’ he responded. ‘Could I leave a bit early though?’ It took him a good seven tries and a couple autocorrects to get his shaking fingers to sort out the right letters, but he eventually got it.

‘Of course! I’ll take your shift tomorrow too, if you need?’

He smiled. Alyssa was much kinder than he deserved. ‘Thank you.’ Only three tries this time; he was starting to feel better. The shaking was subsiding, his stomach was settling, and though the dried sweat made him smell a bit like a scared animal, at least his skin was feeling more like it belonged on his own body again.

After a few more deep breaths, Ben felt alright opening the door. He didn’t bother going to get his bag, and he didn’t risk looking back to see if Carter was still there. The goal was to get on the first bus and ride as far from Radon Canyon as possible. There was probably enough money on his card for a motel room. He could worry about quitting and his woefully barren resume tomorrow; all that mattered now was leaving.

The bus he finally got on was heading east. There was a game going on in the stadium where his life should have come to an end two years ago. Ben’s eyes lingered for a few moments, until the cement walls and giant parking lot were hidden from view by the train station, and then a block of office buildings, and then a park where a team was just starting soccer practice.

Every mile out of the city felt like another weight lifting away. Another painful reminder gone, another memory out of mind.

At the last stop, hours away, in the middle of the night, it felt like he was breathing for the first time in two years.

[whatdoyouexpectthistime]

First Annual Tres Spades Jello Wrestling Tournament - Part Three

Last episode on ‘First Annual Tres Spades Jello Wrestling Tournament’

Having escaped Eisuke’s wrath, Miho learns at the very last minute that the organisers of her jello tournament have contracted measles, and won’t be arriving. In a pinch, she is forced to concoct a new plan with a little help from her friends, including making a deal with Ota to allow him to do anything with her.

CLICK to read Part Two

“You’re late,” Eisuke dropped when Miho strode down the corridor on the second level, hanging up her phone for the second time.

“And your tie is crooked,” Miho sighed, digging her fingers into the knot of his tie and adjusting it.

“This mess of yours had better not embarrass the Tres Spades,” he told her sternly, but he allowed her to set his tie straight and smooth it flat down his chest. “Or, I may bypass Soryu and throttle you myself.”

“No… no this is going to work,” Miho declared confidently. “You just need to trust me.”

“Trust the woman who got me drunk so she could have her way?” he posed, eyes narrowed.

“You really are fixated on that idea, aren’t you, Ichinomiya?” she smiled. “And maybe, maybe if you’re co-operative, I’ll actually let you… beg, me for it.”

“Now who’s fixated?” he smirked, coiling long fingers under her chin, and for a moment, Miho actually allowed it.

“I’m going to make you a lot of money tonight,” she told him clearly, still, even as Eisuke’s thumb tapped the point of her chin. “And I’m going to do it, with my clothing on.”

Comfortable despite the angry swarm of butterflies threatening to burst from her stomach, Miho dug the earpiece and microphone from her pocket and fixed it in place, before offering Eisuke her other hand.

“We’ll see about that,” he told her, releasing her chin and wrapping his hand around hers.

Inhaling to the absolute capacity of her lungs, Miho prepared herself for her greatest challenge yet.

As they pushed from concealment, she and Eisuke were met with a sudden silence, until she found her voice, and it called loud and clear through the announcement system.

“Ladies… and gentlemen…” she began, because of course there were some in the audience so inclined. “Please welcome the king, your illustrious overeer, the dapper, dreamy, demanding, dominant, owner of half of Japan and no doubt your hearts – and other places – Ichinomiya Eisuke!”

The vibration from the audience’s thunderous applause and their wild, hooting shouts must have been felt all throughout the hotel, and even Eisuke seemed a little surprised by the vigour of his greeting.

“Such love,” Miho laughed with the microphone off, as she saw Eisuke to a throne, and came to stand beside him like a good royal advisor.

He he – evil patron god.

Or is it goddess? Whatever, let’s not get bogged down in a debate about gender labelling, when the important matter here is the imminent struggle of naked men in a pit full of delightful blue jello.

“My name is Fujiwara Miho, and I will be your host for this evening’s program, that has changed,” she then declared, and hush once more fell upon the crowd. “Please allow me to draw your attention to the tablets you were handed upon entry,” she continued, and despite the number of people listening to her, it was Eisuke’s scrutiny she felt the heaviest.

Oh, you just wait.

“You will notice the names you saw earlier have disappeared, and it would seem, at first glance anyway, that you have been deceived.”

Murmurs began as the members of the audience checked their devices, and began to question what was going on.

“Don’t fret,” Miho smiled, her voice syrupy, the sweep of her arm exaggerated until it came to rest upon the back of Eisuke’s throne. “What I have planned, is so… much… better.”

As she finished this sentence, each word emphasised for effect, Miho’s gaze sought out where Ota stood at the very edge of the jello pit – and her lips mouthed a silent woof.

“Throughout the evening you will see on your devices and upon the big screen, names you may or may not know,” Miho continued. “But don’t concern yourselves with that too much, their names aren’t all that important, not tonight – that isn’t what you’re here for. All you need do is watch, enjoy, and indulge in the opportunities I present to you, and if they appeal… hit that donate button and make your dream come true.”

It was as she finished this statement, that Miho’s eyes fell upon a group, centre-most, front row – a group of women surrounded by serious looking men. Well, serious until Miho made eye contact with Subaru, at whom she winked and blew a kiss.

“Forget credit card limits,” Miho then spoke again, flourishing each word with gestures the Mad Hatter would be proud of, “forget the nags of your regular lives, and feast with me.”

She turned, then, to the light touch of Eisuke’s hand on her backside.

“What are you up to, Fujiwara?” he hissed, and Miho just beamed… licked her lips… then pecked ever so lightly upon his.

“Don’t fight it,” she told him brazenly, then straightened, and threw up her arms. “First! For your appreciation, a man you may well recognise, with a cherub exterior and face capable of melting even the coldest of hearts. Artist and model, always cutting a stylish silhouette in the latest fashion, we’re all much more interested in seeing him without – I give you angelic Ota!”

“What?” Eisuke blinked, and he wasn’t the only man in the room to double-take as a camera focused on where Ota stood, and he appeared on a big screen above the crowd.

Amid the clapping and whistling, Baba looked to Ota at his side in shock.

“Seriously?”

“It’ll be worth it to put a collar around that throat,” Ota smiled as he pointed a slender figure up at Miho – more than a little sinister Baba thought.

“What? Wait whose throat? Miho?” Baba blurted, but Ota had already slipped off his shoes and socks, jumped over the railing, and was wading through the mid-shin deep blue jello to the centre of the pit.

Screams of excitement and appreciation collided with one another, the atmosphere charged with anticipation.

Ota fixed his gaze on Miho, and she on him.

“He’s a little over-dressed for the occasion, don’t you think ladies?” Miho called, sweeping her arm at the audience and holding up one of the tablets for them to see. “Just how MUCH do you want to see this perfect sculpture in all its glory?”

A counter appeared on the big screen, a number that rapidly began to rise, much to Miho’s relief, and Eisuke’s surprise.

“I don’t know how you convinced him to do it,” he smirked, placing his hand in the small of Miho’s back.

“You don’t want to know,” she chuckled, lifting her eyes to the donated amount as it crossed twenty thousand… thirty… forty… then she raised her voice to the microphone once more. “Oooh, such enthusiasm! How could Ota disappoint his fans now?”

Eye contact again as Ota positioned his fingers on the top button of his shirt.

“Do it,” Miho mouthed, caressing her throat suggestively, and Ota began pulling buttons free, much to the delight of the audience.

Then another piece fell into place.

Even as Ota threw his shirt into the audience, gobbled up by squabbling women, a second figure entered the pit with his face set in determination.

“You know she’s not a dog,” Baba frowned at Ota, who, used to being watched by a large crowd was actually basking in the adoration of his fans. “Miho isn’t the type to wear a collar for anyone.”

“Really?” Ota smirked, pulling away his belt buckle dramatically. “She promised me anything, so I can assure you, that little puppy - pussy and all – will…”

“I’ll fight you for it… for her,” Baba announced, throwing his hat like a frisby far up into the terrace.

“Will you look at that?” Miho declared, her voice a power even above the booming collective. “A wild Mitsunari appears! Built for action, adventure, and oozing the desire to please, our man in red is a consummate lover and devotee to the ways of a true gentleman.”

She caught his eye as she spoke, while Ota swung his pants around his head before flinging them away like all other articles of clothing so far. Baba looked a little confused for a second, searching Miho’s face, but seemed to exhale a laugh and shake his head when she only smiled back at him amiably.

“Looks like we have a challenger!” Miho proclaimed, and Baba’s name appeared on the big screen, Ota’s above it, both with a ‘donation’ ticker counting just how much their audience wanted to see them get bare. “Show Mitsunari a little love, ladies,” she crooned, and grinned when Baba’s tie was cast aside.

Volume intensifies.

Regardless of her little agreement with Ota, Miho tipped her chin upward a little in gratification when Ota removed his briefs and adopted a confident, ready posture. She knew for a fact there was no way Baba would allow her to be subjected to Ota’s twisted fetish, that had never been a concern, but she had to pay Ota some respect for how openly he displayed himself.

“Impressive,” she appraised, and the crowd seemed to agree. “Ladies, hit those buttons if you’re imagining your nails leaving red marks against that perfect skin!”

“Why’s she talking you up so much?” Baba muttered, discarding his shirt before beginning on his pants.

“It’s obvious,” Ota smirked, walking a slow circle around Baba. “Beneath that hostile, take-charge exterior, she’s a secret sub.”

“Well actually,” Baba began, but thought better of revealing carnal details.

Instead, he removed his belt, and with a mischievous smile, flicked Ota on the ass with it.

“Oooh, that looked like it hurt!” Miho laughed. “But please, please Mitsunari, don’t keep us in suspense any longer – I know you’ll give them what they’re after,” she stated. “You never fail to satisfy.”

One hundred thousand, and Baba’s pants were gone… one-fifty… two hundred… he dodged Ota who didn’t seem to be waiting for his revenge, then somehow managed to expose himself completely.

And for a few seconds, Ota looked a little deflated.

“Remember gentlemen,” Miho said. “The game is on until one of you yields. Ladies, choose your champion, and show them just how much you value the care they take of those magnificent those bodies.”

And the donations ticker passed fifty thousand – but Miho knew she had to do much better than that.

“Who is fighting for lust, and who for honour?” she questioned as Ota and Baba sized each other up.

It seemed neither wanted to make the first move, but it seemed inevitable Ota would.

“Whoa,” Inui breathed in something resembling awe. “Why would you ever agree to something like that?”

“Pride and stupidity, Soryu dropped, looking up at where Eisuke was observing with a restrained sneer. “And that woman…”

“But it’s not enough, is it?” Miho sighed heavily into the microphone. “We need more, strong hands, we need more, arms you’d love to have hold you, ass you’d love to squeeze.”

Just as she said this, Ota started forward and tackled Baba around the waist. They splashed back into the lagoon of cerulean gelatine, and emerged a few seconds later as an artless flail of arms and legs.

Soryu rolled his eyes.

“What we need,” Miho beamed, “is someone with a bit of technique someone who is completely and utterly without fear…”

She hadn’t spoken his name, but Soryu’s head snapped up.

“… a man so completely unshakeable, there is no danger too great he wouldn’t face for the woman he loves. Truly, his only real challenge is being as hot as he is intimidating.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Soryu dropped, as both Miho and Eisuke looked at him, the latter with expectancy in his gaze.

“Such a fitting name,” Miho asserted, “the chiselled majesty of Mr. Oh will have you moooooaning.”

“Boss, your name is up there!” Inui blinked, and behind them, Mieke let out a short laugh.

“I can see that,” Soryu maligned, putting his hand on Inui’s shoulder, before shoving him forward.

“What?” Inui yelped.

“If I’m going, so are you,” Soryu said flatly, no compromise allowed.

“What really?”

“Get in there before I throw you in,” Soryu huffed, then followed Inui into the pit.

“He’s going to kill you, you know,” Eisuke told her in amusement.

“Nah,” Miho shrugged, taking a second to enjoy the rush of adrenaline within her veins before raising her voice once more. “And look! Overflowing with boyish charm, and exuding an innocence you really just want to bite into, delightful Inui aim’s to please.”

“No way!” Inui exclaimed before being hit in the face with Soryu’s shirt. “Hey, I can’t…”

His sentence was interrupted as Baba and Ota, both trying to wrestle the other into a headlock, bumped into him.

“I actually think he’s more likely to kill you, Ichinomiya,” Miho giggled, then bit her lip as Soryu finished disrobing. “Hoooo, ladies did it just get hot in here?” she questioned, moving away from Eisuke and walking half way down the ramp that connected the mezzanine where Eisuke’s throne was, to the edge of the pit. “Icy stare,” she began again, staring into the dark of Soryu’s eyes. “Icy demeanour, but Mr. Oh is not pure ice – purely delectable maybe. Why don’t you show us, Mr. Oh, how you train your subordinates?”

2 million.

2.4.

2.6.

“Well, I guess if the boss is doing it,” Inui shrugged, and though he didn’t look entirely convinced, he began to strip.

“Fujiwara,” came a sharp call though her ear piece, the voice of one of the hotel staff, but he didn’t need to provide details.

Though she didn’t hear the scream through the ruckus, she saw a woman’s body tumble forward and splash inelegantly into the jello.

Baba and Ota were occupied, and Soryu was standing over Inui as he lost his underwear, so none immediately noticed the woman in peril. Three men in the crowd who had been situated nearby, trying up until the point to go unnoticed, pressed against the railing then jumped over before security could stop them.

“What do we have here?” Miho mused, as the crowd fixated on the fallen woman, who had managed to scramble to her feet and was stumbling drunk in the direction of Soryu, while her male pursuers followed. “I know these faces,” Miho then grinned, seeing Mieke appear at the edge of the pit from the corner of her eye. “Mmm a couple of bodies I’d like to guard, well trained and disciplined bodies around whom one need never feel unsafe.”

“Is she…” Subaru dropped, momentarily distracted by Miho’s voice.

“Forget her, protect the prime minister’s daughter,” Ishigami scowled.

But just as the prime minister’s daughter got within Soryu groping range, Mieke swooped in.

“Not if you want to keep that hand,” she snapped, catching the wrist that reached for Soryu’s ass and hauling the blue smeared woman to her.

“She’s not quite a knight in shining armour,” Miho voice boomed from above, “but let’s hear it for the saviour of Prime Minister Hiraizumi’s daughter – Mieke!”

And despite Mieke’s lithe frame, she unceremoniously folded the woman over her shoulder and began stomping back to the edge of the pit, where hotel security was preventing a very pretty man from attempting to enter.

“Seriously,” Mieke muttered, dropping the young woman safely on her feet, much to Sora’s relief. “What the hell is this shit?”

She looked the woman up and down – white frock now stained blue, short veil pinned in her hair.

“Hen’s night,” Sora winced, as the woman drooped against him with a silly smile.

“I was thiiiis close to dat tight ass, Sora,” she slurred, her head lolling back. “Thiiiiiiiis close.”

“I can trust on the full discretion of the Tres Spades,” Sora half stated, half questioned, and Mieke peered back at him like he was stupid.

“It’s a fucking jello wrestling tournament for rich tarts to throw money at naked men, and you’re asking for discretion?” Mieke snorted. “Give me a break.”

“You do work here don’t you?” Sora frowned as Mieke cross her arms and stared sourly at her ruined jeans.

“Miho is definitely taking me shopping,” she muttered.

“Uh oh,” Miho’s voice sounded loudly while Sora tried to talk with Mieke. “Looks like pretty bride to be, daughter of Prime Minister Hiraizumi, has had a liiiiiitle too much to drink – and her protection, mhm… Subaru… Ishigami – I think the two of you ought to be punished for letting her slip through your fingers.”

Though they had turned in the direction Mieke had carried their famous client, they found their exit from the pit now barred by several hotel security members.

“Punishment doesn’t have to be painful,” Miho sang, pointing to the big screen where Ishigami and Subaru had been added. “Why don’t you show me, which agency is better?”

“You know who’s better!” Subaru shouted, and though Miho could read his lips, his voice was swallowed up.

“Ladies, dig deep for those who keep the bad guys at bay, and we’ll donate ten percent of what you give to victims’ services – helping those in need,” Miho announced, and Eisuke leaned forward to take hold of the back of her blouse and pull her into his lap.

“You never said anything about charity,” he hissed into her ear as he snaked his arm around her middle.

“You don’t like surprises?” she volleyed, leaning back against him and purposefully grinding down. “Are you positive?”

“Five percent,” he snapped into her ear, and Miho was unable to suppress a slight shudder.

“Let them have their ten,” she hummed, digging down against him, undulating her hips. “You’ll make more than enough out of this.”

“I’ll decide when I’ve had enough,” he rumbled, sliding his hand toward her lap, but she caught it, and with fingernails dug in, pried it away.

“And you’ll have your chance, just like the rest,” she told him firmly, before returning to her job. “Look at those numbers, gentlemen,” she declared, pointing from Subaru and Ishigami, who had been demanding they get let out of the pit, to the big screen. “Are you really willing to be those guys who prevented innocent victims of crime from getting the help and support they need, all because of your own selfish pride? Ladies? What do we think of that?”

6 million and climbing.

Continue to Part Four

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