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The whole of the Yashiro commission knows how much pressure their commissioner is under at all times. Even if he never allows his face to show it, nobody could handle his workload without getting stressed. Not unless they were superhuman. And yet, he remains poised and professional. Always in control of the situation. The Yashiro commission members who have had the luck to share time with him can’t stop themselves from admiring his leadership, his ability to always stay calm and proper. Direct to the point, but never rude. People that actually work on the Kamisato estate are a little more privy to how Ayato is able to achieve this, but nobody like his favourite housekeeper and reliable ally, Thoma. Thoma thinks himself lucky that’s he’s able to have such a close relationship with Ayato. He enjoys getting to see Ayato’s genius mind at work and hearing his rallying speeches. However, despite his high opinion of the commissioner, Thoma can’t avoid the blatant downside to being so close

“Quit botherin’ me already!” Oowada snarled, refusing to turn his head back down the hallway, the slaps of his stalker’s slippers are getting on his nerves already. That damn idiot astronaut trainee, Momota, had started another one of his ramblings about how somebody like Oowada- somebody ‘so powerful’ shouldn’t be using his strength to push around other students. This had all started because Momota had caught Oowada dealing with Kuwata after the baseballer had decided to play yet another prank on Ishimaru -Oowada tries his best to hammer in the message to back off, but it never seems to settle in- though even when Oowada tried to explain what Kuwata had done, all Momota seemed to focus on was the shredded remains of Kuwata’s tighty-whities that were gripped in Oowada’ fist at the time. It's not like Momota had much room to talk, Oowada had seen the boy tear more than one pair of his detective friend(?)’s briefs himself. He could bring it up, but he also suspects it would go in one

The private room echoes with the mixing of whimpers and disapproving tutting. A whine met with a long sigh of disappointment. “These kinds of unsatisfied sounds don’t sound right coming from me, I do hope you’ll take responsibility for this.” Yae Miko says slowly, in an almost whisper. Her eyes trace the back of the head of Watatsumi’s general, Gorou as he writhes helplessly in her clutches. Well, not directly. Her fingers are curled tightly around the waistband of his teal briefs which are keeping Gorou on his tiptoes. “I put a lot of work into today for the sake of you and your column. I just needed you to do one thing and you couldn’t follow my instructions.” Yae says, emphasising her pointed words with another quick tug on the waistband. Gorou produces a high-pitched squeak as the fabric of his briefs tightens around his body. “Th-those instructions though…I thought they w-were another cruel joke- Ah- Uuh!” Gorou admits, only to have his words answered with more merciless yanks.

They should have guessed it would end this way. As soon as they saw the organiser of the party was the twins, they should have known that this would be their fates by the end of the night but they both wanted to believe that for the new year they would just allow everyone to have a calm and happy night to celebrate. No. That was not how Enoshima and Ikusaba rolled, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon, Kirigiri and Naegi now accept as they hang from the flagpole together by their contrasting underwear. Kirigiri’s black panties against Naegi’s white briefs. The first ones to disappear from sight were Kuwata and Hagakure. Nobody thought anything of it at the time since Kuwata had been already complaining that he was feeling exhausted long before the bells went, and Hagakure was likely about to be banned from continuous failed attempts to spike the punch bowl, it was silently assumed Ishimaru told him to leave. Then it was Fukawa and Togami. Again, it wasn’t suspicious as the

Six months is a long time for a one-time joke to turn into a running gag. In six months from Raihan’s first livestreamed wedgie, he had suffered through additional wedgies under similar circumstances and on other occasions got to dish one out himself. The first was a fundraiser stream that Nessa organised to help create a safe zone for Pokemon in the waters near Hulbury and as they neared the end, somebody requested for Nessa to stretch out Raihan’s black trunks out which Raihan obliged with a smile. Then it was a restoration project for the ruins in Circhester where he ended up giving himself a melvin in his red boxer-briefs as snow was shovelled down the front. Before too long he had found that “The Weekly Wedgie” had become an expected segment on his end-of-the-week livestreams he had been doing for years. He was doing it so much that he was even being sponsored by various underwear companies (which he couldn’t complain about, his underwear budget would be massive otherwise). The

“-And after that wicked performance, we’re just a few thousand away from our goal! I want to thank all the people that have sent in donations so far! We’ll be able to cover the damages done to the stadiums thanks to all of your support!” Raihan smiled into the camera, watching the comments fly on screen during his livestream. “Even though it should be the sponsors that help cover the costs…” Piers murmured in the background whilst he tidied away his microphone. Raihan really had no clue where he kept that thing. Raihan turned and gave an ‘ahem’ and tried to subtly give the former gym leader a look that said, ‘Can you not?’. Piers rolled his eyes before walking back over and taking his seat next to Raihan. “Once again, everyone can thank Spikemuth’s former leader Piers for that preview of his album coming next month.” He looked to Piers. Piers stared back for a moment, “O-oh, right…a-and some of the proceeds will be going towards extra measures so that the dynamax incident doesn’t