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Tweak says, "Party like a rock star!"

telesilla (telesilla) wrote in porn_battle,
@ 2008-09-18 14:48:00

Entry tags:

round five

Prompt List: Round Five
And now...the moment we've all be waiting for!

Prompt Lists: Round Five

You'll notice that the Western Media prompts have been handled a little differently; we're experimenting still. Also, please excuse any mistakes; all told we had over 2600 prompts and even split up as they were, things will slip past us.

So, you have a week; at some point in the evening on Thursday the 25th, I'll close the battle. Until then?

*points down to the comments*

Porn goes here!

You must put the prompt in the subject header of your comment. If the prompt is too long, name the fandom and pairing and as much of the rest as you can. (This is so that at the end of the round, we can make a link back to your fic on the final Master List.)

If your fic is too long for one comment, post part one as a top level comment and then the second part in reply to that comment and so on.

Have fun!

ETA: I am aware that most of the lists off site are all scrunched together. They shouldn't be and I'm working on it. Thanks for your understanding.

As of now--1:10 PST--the Porn Battle is closed.

The list of fics will be up soon, hopefully by tomorrow evening unless my connectivity issues continue.

Thanks for playing, everyone!

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Eyeshield 21, Hiruma/Mamori, dealing cards

lysapadin
2008-09-19 07:41 pm UTC (link)

There had to be better ways of fundraising than high-stakes poker. Mamori had said as much, repeatedly and at ever-increasing volumes, but Hiruma was goal-oriented to a fault. The goal, in this case, was a new weight room for the college football team, and Mamori's protests fell on conveniently-deaf ears.

"I am not a prop!" she had also argued, when Hiruma had presented her with her role in his plots.

He'd just grinned at her, clearly unimpressed by her ire, and said, "No, you're the fucking distraction."

And somehow she'd ended up in the slinky red dress, with its slits up the skirt that came all the way up to here and the neckline that plunged entirely too low for her tastes, perched on strappy stiletto heels that were not at all ladylike, and watching Hiruma cleaning out the other players. Watching him play, long fingers picking up and discarding cards, shuffling the deck with the same careless ease he used to throw a football or clean a gun, Mamori couldn't decide which was worse: the fact that Hiruma really was that good at cards, or the fact that it didn't seem like she was needed for the purposes of distraction at all.

It was six of one, half a dozen of the other, she supposed.

Hiruma laid his cards down and the rest of the table groaned to a man. The other three women cooed at their distraught companions, simpering outrageously, as Hiruma raked the pot over to join the ever-increasing pile in front of him. "Another hand to make up your losses?" he suggested, and seemed only moderately disappointed when no one accepted the offer. He didn't bait anyone into playing, which Mamori supposed meant they'd made their goal for the night.

At least this set of marks--and she felt guilty for thinking of them like that, but it was the accurate word--wasn't inclined to fight. That was a small mercy, especially given the way Hiruma gloated as he collected his winnings.

"You didn't really need me here," she scolded him, once they were on their way out of the casino. Hiruma had his hand at the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd (possessive? protective? or just for the look of the thing? who could tell?)

"Course I did. You see those other hags at that table? Least I had something to look at that didn't make me want to bleach my eyeballs," he said.

"You say the nicest things to me," Mamori murmured, dry as dust.

"Don't get used to it," he said, maniacally cheerful, as they left the floor and entered the lobby. There was an elevator just disgorging its passengers; once they'd slid into it and the doors had chimed shut after them, he laughed, triumphant. "They'll be inviting me into the big games now."

"Hurray for us," Mamori said, as the elevator jerked into motion, ascending slowly. "I still say--"

Hiruma cut her short by edging her against the wall of the car and kissing her. "That's a good color on you," he said, against her mouth.