#I found 3 skunk plush :( and didn’t get any of them

[beetlebip]

So strong…. I put some stuff from the antique mall back on the shelves cause I could live without them </3 takin one for the team

[sparrowstrikewrites]

Flaming Oven Character Study Part 1

Naruto Uzumaki (age 9) and Iruka Umino (age 23)

The oven’s on fire because Naruto doesn’t know how to use it, so it’s basically a cupboard in his mind and Iruka never thought to check whether there was anything in the oven before preheating.

Little Naruto’s response: “I don’t think this is how oven’s work, but I don’t know enough about oven’s to argue.”

Iruka’s response: “I didn’t sign up for this. I’m not getting paid enough for this-- wait, I’m not at work, I’m not getting paid.” *Puts out fire and walks away* “Nope. Not fixing this. Throw the whole house out.”

Iruka first started to wonder when Naruto showed up for class in a rumpled shirt. It didn’t smell, but was the sort of rumpled that implies it was fished out of the laundry basket. Naruto was only 7 and kids that age like to dress themselves but lack any and all common sense, so he brushed it off.

Iruka started to get suspicious when Naruto showed up for class with a fever and a cough that shook his whole little body. The 8 year old staggered into class, dropped into his seat, laid his head down on the desk, and was out in seconds. Iruka had to shake him awake and send him to the nurse’s office propped up between Kiba and Shikamaru.

The nurse let Naruto sleep in her office until lunch time and then she sent him home with fever tablets and a cough suppressant. She told Iruka not to worry. Kids this age were basically germ factories.

Iruka started asking questions when the week before the annual physicals, he found Naruto eating raw carrots and broccoli. The kid was going to town like he was starving and the vegetables were some sort of delicacy, but his face said he was doing his best not to cry or puke.

“How’s lunch?” Iruka asked.

Naruto stared up at him with a fading black eye and sighed like he was weary of the world at only 9 years old. “Horrible, but I read you’ve got to eat vegetables to grow.”

Iruka snorted. Naruto was a good 2 inches shorter than the other boys in the class and like all kids his age, it was a sore point. 

“I don’t think cramming in vegetables before your physical is going to make much of a difference,” Iruka teased. “You really can’t cram for stuff like this.”

Naruto stared down at the half eaten head of broccoli in his hand. “Well, after last year, the nurse already told me she was going to check my shoes for padding, so this was kind of plan B.” He then took another sad bite of the broccoli. “Iruka-sensei, why are vegetables both expensive and disgusting?”

Iruka shrugged. “They’re not that expensive and I think they taste better cooked.”

“They’re more expensive than instant ramen and I guess some of them tast okay if you put them in the ramen, but the flavors don’t always go together.”

Iruka laughed. “You really need to eat something other than ramen.”

“I don’t know how to cook anything else. Except rice, but it always boils over and then I have to clean the stove and if I clean the stove, I don’t have time to do laundry,” Naruto lamented.

Iruka’s face fell and a dozen questions crowded his tongue. “Do you always cook and do the laundry?”

Naruto nodded. “There’s no laundry fairy.” He grinned up at Iruka like he’d said a great joke. “I also vacuum and dust and scrub the bathroom, but not as often as I should. There’s not enough hours in the day, you know?”

Iruka looked like he’d been slapped. “Yeah, I know.” There was a pile of laundry sitting in the corner of his little apartment that needed done. He’d eaten out for the last week, because there wasn’t time to go grocery shopping. The spider in the corner of his windowsill had been there long enough that Iruka had given it a name. But those were adult problems. 

Naruto wasn’t grinning anymore. He mirrored Iruka’s frown and tried to figure out what he’d said wrong.

“Hey, Naruto, would you like to learn to cook some more stuff?” Iruka asked.

Naruto’s grin returned.

---

Iruka arrived at Naruto’s apartment (he’d found the address in Naruto’s school records, because the kid was horrible at giving directions) a little after 5 that evening with an armload of groceries. 

The hairs on the back of Iruka’s neck prickled as he got close. He could feel Naruto’s chakra, the Fox’s chakra. 

Iruka shoved aside his unease and pasted on a smile. Naruto was not the Fox and Iruka refused to treat them as one and the same.

Naruto was watching the street and came jogging down the stairs to help carry everything up to the third floor where he lived.

Iruka surveyed the little loft while Naruto ransacked the bags of groceries. The only decorations on the walls were a small child’s drawings. The bed was made, a bit rumpled and crooked, but an obvious effort had been made. A few well-worn plush were neatly set up on the bed, because of course that would be a kid’s priority. The dirty clothes were mostly contained to a not quite overflowing laundry basket. A couple shirts that Iruka recognized as Naruto’s favorites were laid out on the floor to dry and a bucket of soapy water was sitting by the laundry basket, waiting for the next load.

It wasn’t a bad space, but it confirmed Iruka’s suspicions. There was only one person living here. There’d only been one person living here for a long time. 

Iruka closed his eyes. He’d been on his own for a long time, too. After he lost his parents, his Aunt and Uncle gave him a room in their house. They kept him fed and clothed until he made chuunin and he could support himself. They never tried to fill the void his parents’ left, but he was still grateful to them. Naruto didn’t even have that.

“I brought stuff to make a casserole. It’s really easy and I think you’ll ike it because all the vegetables are hidden under a bunch of cheese and potatoes,” Iruka said.

Naruto set down the green pepper he was suspiciously sniffing and nodded.

“First, we start preheating the oven…”

Iruka showed Naruto how to layer the food in a big glass dish. 

Naruto kneeled on a barstool to see the countertop and chattered the whole time.

Neither of them noticed anything amiss until the smoke alarm over the stove started to beep.

Iruka turned around to see black smoke billowing out of the oven door.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Naruto asked. “I’ve never used the oven.” He looked up at Iruka curiously, not yet concerned.

For 3 heartbeats, Iruka just stared. DO NOT PANIC! he ordered himself. DO NOT PANIC AND SCARE NARUTO!!!!

“Laundry water,” Iruka stammered at last. His voice was surprisingly level. 

Naruto cocked his head to the side and frowned.

“Take the clothes out of the washing bucket and bring me the water,” Iruka repeated. His voice was just a little higher pitched than normal and his hands twitched at his sides, unsure what exactly to do.

Naruto jumped off the stool and did as he was told.

Iruka grabbed the oven mits off the counter, turned off the oven, and, when Naruto reappeared with a bucket of soapy water, Iruka yanked the oven door open and chucked the whole bucket inside.

The mess inside steamed, sputtered, and smelled awful-- like burning plastic and garbage.

Iruka gagged and turned to Naruto. “What was in there?”

Naruto ran a hand through his hair and winced at the smouldering mess. “I don’t know. Junk I don’t use and the garbage can. I keep it there so I don’t have to look at it all the time.”

Iruka refilled the bucket from the sink and dumped it in the oven again. The fire was good and out, but the whole apartment skunk horribly and the kitchen area was covered in a fine layer of soot. 

“Let’s go to Ichiraku. I’m buying.”

Naruto whooped and bolted for the door to put on his shoes.

Iruka just stared at the ruined oven and shook his head. This is like the adult version of microwaving the instant noodles without water, only worse. The place would need scrubbed and aired out. Naruto would need a new stove and some place to stay for a few days.

“Before we go, why don’t you throw some clothes in a bag. You should probably not sleep here until I can get this cleaned up,” Iruka told Naruto. 

“Can I stay with you, Iruka-sensei?”

“Yup. And we’ll try cooking lessons again tomorrow.”

Naruto laughed and beamed. “I’ve never had a sleepover before. If I knew all it took was a flaming oven, I would have set that thing on fire a long time ago!”

Iruka laughed too then. It was either laugh or cry and he didn’t want to cry in front of Naruto.

A one night sleepover became a week. Bit by bit, Naruto’s things materialized in Iruka’s apartment. Iruka taught Naruto how to make katsudon, casserole, and ramen from scratch that they both agreed wasn’t quite as good as Ichiraku Ramen.

No one questioned the change when Naruto came to school everyday in clean clothes with a balanced lunch. Or when he suddenly was completing his homework and no longer napping during the day.

Iruka still had a pack of dust bunnies under his bed and Kuro-chan was paying rent in dead flies from the windowsill, but the laundry in the corner didn’t pile up anymore. Laundry was Naruto’s favorite chore, especially since Iruka’s apartment building had an electric washer and dryer in the basement.

Iruka did his grading from the kitchen table now. Naruto sat across from him and did his homework after dinner. 

At 10, Iruka steered the kid to the little office turned bedroom. The bed was sloppily made, but a handful of well loved plush were carefully arranged by the pillow and Naruto thought it was the best bedroom in the world.

---

Dear Esteemed Hokage-sama,

I am writing to you in regards to Uzumaki Naruto’s living situation. His apartment is currently uninhabitable. There was a small kitchen fire (absolutely not Naruto’s fault), but it was sufficient to fill the small apartment with smoke. I take full responsibility for the situation and have taken Naruto back to my apartment. He will stay there as long as need be. It could easily be a couple months at least. The oven will need replaced and the smoke probably sunk into the drywall, so all of that will need to be ripped out and replaced. I did some research, and with the age of the building, there could be asbestos in the walls, so the demolition isn’t something that can just be done willy-nilly…

Hiruzen set the letter down, it rambled on for another page and a half, and picked up a pen.

Iruka,

If you are comfortable with the arrangement, I agree it’s best that Naruto stay with you indefinitely. Please endeavour to avoid any further incidents. Children are impressionable and have enough of an affinity for fire as it.

-Hiruzen Sarutobi

[the-real-anywolf]

Destiel Advent Calendar 2019

Title: An Avalanche Of Fluff

Tags: Established Destiel; Castiel’s Plushie Obsession; Buying on eBay Has Never Been So Much Fun; Fluff; Smut; Explicit Sexual Content; Astroglide Makes an Appearance; Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester; The Plushiepocalypse is Nigh; Battle of the Puppy Dog Eyes, HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRANKIE!!!

Summary: Even though he’s running out of space, Cas keeps adding to his plushie collection. When Dean buys him ‘just one more’, and Sam is nearly crushed by an avalanche of them, he stages an intervention. Cas might be as good at giving the puppy dog eyes as he is, but he will not be swayed… nope.

Written by: @anyreiart (anyrei), @eyesofatragedy67​ (Eyes_of_a_Tragedy) & @punk-is-notdead​ (tfw_cas)

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21765409

Notes: *ahem* It's mugglerock's birthday, people. Let's celebrate! Every time you read the word plushies(1), take a shot, lol!

Any here: Happy Birthday, Frankie! ( @misspoogy ) Day 12 of our Advent calendar is our surprise fic for you! We love you so so so so much and wish you all the best for this day!

Trex here: Frankie, sorry not sorry for the sneak attack, but you're the bestest, and deserve all the plushies(2)! Happy Birthday, bb! Love you so mush! *throws Dean's pink panties at you*

Ruk here: Surprise!! *throws sparkly birthday confetti* Happy Birthday Frankie, we love you loads. Also sorry not sorry… for all the fluff. We hope you enjoy this fic as much as we enjoyed writing it. 😘😘

Additional Note: Ruk and Trex wrote a birthday fic for me earlier this year and this is kind of the follow up chapter. You can read how the plushie(3) obsession started here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20769434

Day 12:   An Avalanche Of Fluff

Ever since Cas had won that giant panda - with lots of help from Dean, of course - his collection of plushies had gotten larger and larger. It had gotten to the point that Dean was worried that one day he would return to the bunker and the plushies would have taken over.

Also, there was the slightly bizarre matter of Cas naming them all after different angels. And not just ones he'd liked either; he had a snake named Naomi, and a skunk named Raphael.

Most of them were angels Cas liked and missed, though. Even Gabriel, who was apparently a hyena.

There was also a squirrel named Dean, and a moose named Sam, and Cas kept them separate from the others, on a shelf in the kitchen. Dean got into the habit of saying good morning to them when he was in search of his morning coffee. He knew it was kind of silly, but it reminded him of a certain King of Hell, who’d ended up becoming one of their greatest allies.

Cas had named one of his plushies after Crowley too; it was a rat, but not a dirty one. Cas treated it almost like a beloved pet, which Dean found quite endearing.

Despite the ever growing number of Cas’s new friends, Dean found himself encouraging his hobby. Dean knew he shouldn’t, but every time Cas got a new one he was so damn happy… and so damn grateful too.

Sam though…

He didn’t seem to be very happy with the plushies turning up everywhere. Cas’s new plush bee, that didn’t have a name yet, had been standing in front of the little container on a shelf in the kitchen. A container Sam stored his teabags in. When he grabbed it in the morning the bee slid from the shelf and fell into his bowl of cereal, splashing the milk everywhere. Sam had given him an impressive bitchface, as he fished the drenched bee out of his milk.

“You better get that milk off him before Cas sees. Hurry up and wash him real quick.” Dean gestured towards the sink, wondering if Sam was going to carry it over, or throw it from where he was sitting.

To his relief, Sam started to wash the bee in the sink, shaking his way too long lion's mane. "He? Does this one have a name, too?"

“Actually, I dunno. I just figured it looked like a ‘he’. Cas is still thinking of a name for this one.”

Sam held up the dripping bee with a sceptical look. "Don't you think Cas has enough stuffed animals by now? They seem to be everywhere."

Dean shrugged. “They make him happy… just like bacon makes me happy.” There was another reason Dean didn’t object to Cas’s little plushie obsession, but he wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Cas. If Cas kept them all at the bunker, he wouldn’t leave again, right?

Sam put the dripping bee down on the kitchen counter. The antennae were hanging down, giving the wet bee a sad look. “Can you even still go into your room? I mean, how many plushies does he have by now?”

“Er… I actually don’t know. I lost count. But I have to get one more for him; it’s super rare.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “I’m beginning to wonder if the plushies are your obsession, too.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sammy,” Dean huffed. Sam was kind of right, but he wasn’t going to tell him that, was he?

“Of course you don’t,” Sam said, sarcastically. “But if this carries on, I’m staging an intervention.”

He sat back down and ate his now-soggy cereal, and Dean got the impression that the conversation was over for now.

"Who made you the plushie police?" Dean muttered under his breath. He finished fixing his cup of coffee and walked out of the room. He had an eBay auction to win.

***

Dean was parked on his bed, computer across his lap, staring intensely at the screen. So far, no one had added an additional bid on the beluga whale Dean was trying to win for Cas; but he was poised, ready to up-bid, in case someone tried to snipe him.

With only fifteen minutes left on the clock, the door opened and Cas came in, smiling at the sight of his boyfriend on the bed, laptop at the ready.

“Hello, Dean. Are you waiting for me?” He quirked his eyebrow in that way that made Dean’s breath catch and walked over to the bed.

"I'm always waiting for you, sunshine," Dean smiled and grabbed Cas's hand, tugging him down onto the bed.

Cas found Dean’s lips with his own, and kissed him so insistently, that if Dean hadn’t had the laptop perched on his lap, it was very likely that Cas would be on top of him instead.

He pulled back an inch or two, and sighed contentedly. “There’s a lot more room on this bed now that we moved my plushie collection to my old room.”

Dean laughed. "My memory foam didn't remember me anymore." He cupped Cas's cheek in his hand, brushing that chapped lower lip with the pad of his thumb.

Cas joined in the laughter, laying back and placing his hands behind his head. “What’s on the laptop? Is it a special video?”

"No, babe, I finally found that whale you've been looking for. I'm currently the top bidder, so no distracting me, okay?" Dean mock-squinted at him.

Cas sat upright, his face now a picture of seriousness. “I would be very grateful if you won the whale for me, Dean. I’ll wait with you.” He squeezed Dean’s hand for luck, and kissed him gently on the cheek.

Dean knew where this was leading, as Cas climbed behind him, chin on his shoulder so he could observe the countdown. A new bidder had upped him by chump change, so Dean added $100 to his bid.

"There, that should discourage-" He gasped as he felt a hand snake down to brush over his dick, encased in cotton sweatpants. "Caaaasss…"

Cas licked over the back of Dean’s ear, and growled into it. “Just a little distraction until you’ve won the whale for me.”

Dean bucked up into Cas's tightening grip. "Dammit, Cas! You know this isn't fair," he whined. This wasn't the first time Cas had pulled this kind of move, but damn was it always a wild ride.

“Concentrate on the screen, Dean.” Cas said, as if it was that easy. Then, just to add a little more torture, he slipped his other hand up under Dean’s shirt, and found one of his nipples with his fingers.

"Easy for you to say, you toppy asshole," Dean grumbled. But he stayed focused on the bids, not because Cas told him to - at least, not solely because of that - but because he really wanted to see Cas's face when they won.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Cas breathed heavily behind him, and planted an open-mouthed kiss on the back of his neck.

His angel upped the torture by slipping his hand into his pants. Dean moaned at the brush of calloused fingers on his cock. "Cas, please?"

“Please what?” he asked, as he began to stroke agonisingly slowly.

"Oh, shit, Cas, please?" Dean rambled, as Cas's strokes got firmer and faster. "Wanna come for you. Spill into your hand, see my come all over those beautiful fingers. Wanna feel you inside me so bad, baby. Please, fuck, pleeease!"

Dean felt Cas shudder behind him; his resolve obviously weakening. “Patience… I’ll make this so good for you once the bidding is over.” His actions didn’t quite match his words, however, as his grip became a little firmer.

"Unh, I hate you so much right now," Dean grunted and turned to nip at Cas's jaw.

“Yeah, that’s right. Get angry… it’ll be so much better when you get your release,” Cas purred. A sudden gasp was accompanied by a loosening of his hold on Dean. “What’s that on the screen? Has someone outbid you?”

Dean turned back to the screen to see the bid now five dollars higher. "Oh, like hell! I need that for my angel.” Dean bid another hundred and glanced at the clock. Three more minutes. He'd be damned if he was going to lose this.

“Focus… we must focus on the task, Dean.” Cas tightened his hold again, and started to stroke once more, and now he was adding a series of little kisses to the backs of Dean’s ears and his neck.

"Fuck, you're killing me, Cas!" Dean's hips thrust up to meet Cas's hand. "Don't you dare fucking stop, 'k?"

“I won’t stop until the clock does,” Cas panted, and grinded the lower half of his body against Dean’s. He was obviously as affected by this little game as Dean was.

With less than a minute left on the clock, there was another increase to the bid. "Oh, fuck that, you sonuvabitch!" Dean typed a much larger number in the window, then reached back with his other hand and tangled his fingers in Cas's hair.

At three seconds, he submitted his final bid - a thousand higher than before; Mr. Robert Plant and Visa could afford it - and waited for the results.

“Two… “ Cas said, as he gave the firmest stroke yet. “One…” firmer still. “Zero… come for me, Dean.”

Fingers tugging at Cas's hair, and hips rocking up to meet each stroke, Dean came hard, adrenaline pumping through him. He glanced back to see Cas staring at the screen in triumph. Sexy bastard.

“You’re so good to me, Dean,” Cas moaned, his groin grinding harder against Dean. “I want…”

"Fuck me, angel. You know you want to. Want it so bad, baby," Dean taunted, hoping for a grade A victory celebration - confetti, parade, fucking fireworks... all of it.

Cas groaned, and Dean could feel him fumbling to undo his zipper. “Lube, now… and get rid of the laptop, and your pants.”

Dean shoved the laptop to the edge of the bed and grabbed the Astroglide out of the drawer. He struggled out of his pants, eager for the pounding he knew his angel was about to give him.

He handed Cas the bottle and heard him flip the top. “What position do you want it?” he asked… He might like to take charge, but he always wanted to make sure Dean was comfortable too.

"Just fuck me, Cas! I need you inside me, yesterday," Dean begged.

“Get on your hands and knees,” Cas commanded then; Dean had given him the green light to take what he wanted. “I’m going to give you what you need.”

Dean whined, "Please, inside me. Now, sweetheart, please?"

“You’re very impatient today, aren’t you?” Cas growled. “I think winning the bid has brought out your baser instincts.” He pushed Dean over onto his stomach and he immediately felt a lubed finger breach his hole. “Mmmm… so tight for me.”

He hated and loved it when Cas teased him like this. "More, Cas, I need you so bad…"

“You’re a very needy hunter,” Cas said, thrusting in and out, but still using only one finger. “I would make you wait for it, but you’ve been so good for me, I think I’ll take what you want to give me.”

Cas had obviously lowered his head, as Dean felt his breath on his cheek, before the brief pain of a little bite.

Dean moaned in pleasure. "I'm ready, Cas. Just do it," he begged greedily, needing to feel his angel filling him.

Instead of feeling that delicious cock pushing inside him, Cas added another finger, and thrust it in roughly alongside the first. “You like that, don’t you?”

Groaning, Dean replied, "Yes! You know I do. Caaassss…" He gave in, accepting that his angel was going to edge him again, but totally willing to play hard ball. "Mmm, more… want all of you, love."

“Oh, Dean,” Cas moaned; Dean knew exactly how to push his buttons. He’d clearly had enough of making Dean wait now, and after removing his fingers Dean felt the head of Cas's cock being pushed inside him.

"Oh, fuck, Cas! You always feel so good." He panted as that thickness penetrated him, slowly and exquisitely filling him. Dean tangled his fingers in the sheets, and muffled his moans in the pillow, pushing back to meet Cas's hips.

Cas started picking up the pace then; slamming in, then pulling almost all the way out, before slamming in again. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were the gasps and moans of the lovers, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Cas changed the angle of his thrusts and hit Dean’s prostate, making him groan loudly.

"Oh, yes, right there! Cas, please don't stop, baby? Please, I need you so bad," Dean begged, like his life depended on it.

Cas slipped his hand around to Dean’s front and encircled his cock with his fingers. Despite Dean having come already today, he knew it wouldn’t take much to get him to orgasm again; especially the way Cas was hammering his prostate.

He clenched down, tightening around Cas's dick, making the angel moan, and demanded, "Give it to me, love."

“I. Love. You. Dean.” Cas gritted out, punctuating every word with a thrust, seemingly going impossibly deeper each time. “I-I’m going to…” Cas came with a groan, holding tightly onto Dean’s hips as he finished.

Cas orgasming had become Dean's favorite kink, and he followed behind, shouting out his release. "Love you so much, sunshine! Fuck, do I love you!"

He collapsed to the bed, Cas on top of him, just where Dean wanted him.

Cas wasn’t ready to pull out yet; he stayed like that as they both got their breathing under control again. Eventually, he lifted his head and kissed along Dean’s spine, saying, “I can’t wait to see my whale plushie. Thank you for winning it for me.”

Dammit, the angel could still make him blush. "Anything for you, sunshine." He snuggled down under Cas's weight and sighed in contentment.

Eventually, Cas got too heavy and his cock softened and slipped out of Dean's hole. "Plug me?"

Cas reached over to Dean’s night table and opened the drawer. He was obviously trying to choose from the collection of plugs - thankfully not as large a collection as the plushies - but finally he picked one and brought it to Dean’s waiting hole.

The one he’d chosen wasn’t too large, and Cas slipped it in without any resistance, then sat up on his haunches and admired the view. “Beautiful,” he said, running his hand over the swell of Dean’s ass.

Dean didn't have to tell Cas how much he loved it when he left his come inside him. They'd fucked in every position Dean had ever imagined, and some he didn't know existed. It hadn't taken long for them both to realize Cas inside him in any form prolonged the pleasure.

"You're the best. I love you more than pie."

Cas laid back down beside Dean, giving him one of his extra special smiles; one that made his whole face light up, almost as if he was glowing. “That is the sweetest compliment you’ve ever given me.”

Dean curled into Cas's arms and kissed his left pectoral, over his heart. Nuzzling into his side, he let out a little hum of happiness and held his love tight.

***

Despite Sam’s attempt to curb Dean and Cas’s excessive plushie buying, a new one had been delivered to the bunker earlier that day. He had heard Cas’s exclamations of delight when he opened it (he had, unfortunately, also heard some of Cas’s appreciation for Dean when the item was purchased). Ugh!

Dean hadn’t been able to tell Sam how many stuffed animals Cas had - not even a ballpark figure - but his curiosity was piqued. He would just have to investigate, and find out for himself.

There was no sound coming from Dean and Cas’s room, so Sam easily slipped past it unnoticed. When he reached the door of Cas’s old room, he turned the handle to open it, and was surprised to find some resistance. He pushed harder against the door, and with a creaking sound it shifted, but it seemed to have dislodged something.

That something turned out to be somethings. With a rumble the entire collection of plushies crashed down on top of Sam, and he found himself on the floor, dazed and wondering what had happened.

Scrabbling off the floor, plushies basically raining off him, Sam stormed off to have it out with his brother and the angel; having so many stuffed animals that they filled an entire room was ridiculous. Opening the door without knocking, he was greeted by the sight of Dean and Cas fast asleep in bed.

How sweet , he thought, as he walked back along the hallway, picked up an armful of the furry little creatures, and carried them back to Dean and Cas’s room.

He let all the plushies hail down on their peaceful, innocent, sleeping faces before he stated, “We need to talk.”

The startled reaction of both of them was gold.

Dean sat up and ran his hand over his hair, clearly having no idea what was going on. He blinked up at Sam in confusion, and yawned.

Cas snapped out of his stupor a lot quicker than Dean did, and he looked around forlornly at the toys that were now strewn about the bed. “Sam? Why did you throw my plushies at us?”

"Because you two have a problem that we need to address. This is an intervention." Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "Your whole room is filled with stuffed animals. It is ridiculous. This is totally getting out of hand!"

Cas frowned, and picked up one of the plushies from the bed. It was a koala, and Cas smoothed its ruffled fur. “But they’re so cute. Look at it, Sam.” He held it up, making puppy dog eyes as he did so.

Sam didn't fall for it. He wasn't his brother. "I don't care how cute they are. An entire room, Cas! I opened your door and there was an avalanche. An actual avalanche of plushies. Enough is enough!"

“I… oh.” Cas’s face fell and he glanced at Dean, who now seemed to be fully awake.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go poking your nose into other people’s rooms,” Dean said defiantly.

Sam dignified that with his bitch face. "That doesn't change my point, Dean. I said avalanche. A-va-lanche of plushies. Look," Sam sighed as he carded a hair strand out of his face. "I didn't complain about the plushies I accidentally sat on in the library or in the Dean cave, nor did I complain about the dinosaur and duckling on the backseat of the Impala. I also didn't complain when plushies started to show up in the kitchen... falling into my breakfast... But Dean, an avalanche! It's just too much."

“I’m sorry… I didn’t realise.” Cas looked like he might actually cry. “I promise I will stop.” He laid his head back down on the pillow and sighed sadly.

“Happy now?” Dean scowled at his brother and pulled Cas into a hug.

Sam rolled his eyes. Of course he didn’t want to upset Cas but this had to stop. “I’m sorry, Cas. But this is just too much.”

Dean made a gesture with his hand for Sam to run along, and to be honest, it was amazing it wasn’t a rude gesture, considering what had just taken place.

Sam turned around and left the two of them, hoping he had put a stop to this. They must see that this was getting out of hand, right?

…. :::: :::: ….

Since Sam’s plushie intervention Cas had kept to his word. He hadn’t bought any more, and he’d stopped Dean from buying them too. When Dean had mentioned Christmas, Cas had firmly but sadly told him that he wanted anything but a plushie as a gift.

And although he had stuck to that promise, he felt sad. Because this was it.

He hadn't told Dean or Sam what his reasoning behind having all those plushies had been. Although they knew he gave names of fallen friends and allies to those plushies... they weren't aware why he was doing it.

Cas still carried the guilt of every angel he had killed back when he had been under the control of the Leviathans. It had been thousands. Angels Dean and Sam had never met, but Cas had spent millions of years in Heaven with.

He had a list. It wasn't written down but in his head, reminding him like an engraved wall of every one of his fallen brethren.

And even though Sam described his plush collection as an 'avalanche of plushies' they still weren't enough. He wanted every name on that list be represented in his life.

For some reason, he needed this. Because if they gave those plushies their names, he was able to talk to them. In some way… maybe it worked for him like a cemetary. A place where humans could go and find comfort in talking with their lost loved ones.

There were still so many names on that list, so many angels he wanted to talk to. Who he wanted to apologize to. Or maybe just tell them goodbye.

He noticed that Sam was giving him worried looks throughout the weeks, asking him if he was okay. He assured him that everything was fine, although it was a big lie.

Christmas morning was coming, and Cas wasn’t feeling any better. He sat thoughtfully next to the Christmas tree as Sam handed him two packages wrapped in old newspaper. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

“Thank you, Sam.” Cas gave him a smile that he hoped conveyed gratitude, even though he wasn’t sure he would like what Sam had given him.

He carefully opened the smaller package first, finding a colourful pair of socks, decorated with bees. It was really thoughtful, and he held them up to show Dean.

“They’re very you,” Dean chuckled. Turning to his brother, he said, “Nice one, Sammy.”

Sam grinned at them and took a sip of his coffee. “Open the other one. I think you'll love it.”

The package was box shaped, and Cas wondered what it could be. A book? Another item of clothing? He unwrapped it carefully, and sure enough it was a box. Peeling off the tape, he was astonished… delighted to see a plushie! It was a unicorn, and its tail and horn were rainbow coloured. “Sam? You… thank you.”

He clutched it to his chest, feeling the prickle of happy tears in his eyes.

“Dude,” he heard Dean say from beside him. “That’s awesome.”

Cas wasn’t sure if that comment was directed at him or Sam, but he was too happy to care at that moment.

Sam cleared his throat, “Yeah, man, look… You were so down the last couple of weeks… I just… It’s alright. If those plushies make you happy, who am I to stand against it.”

Cas jumped up and hugged Sam tenderly. “You don’t know how much this means to me. And I will try not to cause anymore avalanches with my collection.”

He felt Dean’s arms around them both, and although he was being squished, he couldn’t have been happier.

The End

[completelypeccable]

Can I Have This Dance?

Chp 3. Dancing Queen

/In this house, we love and appreciate Duke Thomas./

Chp 2

Chp 1

“You are the Dancing Queen! Young and sweet, only seventeen!” Duke yelled along with Stephanie, leaning across the divider in the front seats of the car. 

Tim kicked Steph’s chair, “Hey, pay attention!”

“Stop being jealous that Duke loves me more than you-“

“Steph?”

“Yeah, Duke?”

“Directions?”

“Oh yeah, take a left up here, then...” Steph rattled off. Cassandra snickered from the back seat. 

“Feel that beat like a smooth machine!” Duke continued. 

“That’s so not the-“

“YOU CAN DANCE-“

“Why did we let him drive,” Jason grumbled. 

“Hey, mister spontaneously alive,” the car took a sharp left, but Steph turned completely around. “You don’t have a license, remember?”

“What are you, some goody two shoes piec-“

“Steph, what are you doing?! Buckle-“

Steph gently shushed Tim by smothering his face. He squawked indignantly. 

“Licking won’t work on me, tweety bird.”

Duke eyed them through the rear view mirror. 

“I am the only responsible person in this car,” he sighed. 

Cass frowned. 

“Besides Cassie, but she baby.”

“Oh she baby,” with a yelp, Steph’s arm was disengaged by a jab to the inside of her elbow. 

“And babies can’t drive,” Tim wiped his mouth, “right Damian?”

Tim twisted around (still buckled) to face the glare, but Damian wasn’t listening.  He was leaned against Cass, who lightly traced her nails across his skin with one hand. She winked, pressing a kiss to Damian’s forehead nestled at her collarbone. Damian held her other hand on her lap, splaying her fingers out, in with a barely-there smile.  More of a content line, really. Tim felt relieved that the kid was doing as well as he was, all things considered.

The older two shared a smile. Cass could make anyone melt, but Damian was always uncharacteristically soft with her.

And she loved to coddle him. 

Jason groaned. “How much farther?”

“Why are you so upset?” Tim poked his side.

“I just like to complain. But I am also too big for this car.”

“Oh, good shotgun?”

“Yes, fair driver?”

“For how long must we continue our travels?”

“Until dear Jason loses the will to live-“

“Steph!“

“Would someone please shut up my impulse control?”

Tim leaned his head onto her shoulder, hugging her around the seat. “You say the sweetest things.”

“You can dance, you can try~“

Jason flopped his head onto the seat behind him.

Duke smiled, singing along to the song in his head. The pulse in his mind was always calmer when he wasn’t alone.  After everything that had been going on, he was happy to see his somehow-sibling-esque-figures doing alright.  Being almost normal, even. They planned a family zoo trip! Granted it was partially because Damian was confiscated from his father a-la-angry vigilante style, and Steph and Cass immediately decided to make him act like a normal kid (who is a bit overly attached to animals) to distract them all from that sad reality, and they were all going along for the process because they were grieving something awful- but still! In some way, they were being normal.  Normal-ish.

Whatever.

Today was going to be a good day, he decided.  

...

The Gotham zoo was busy for a Monday, since it was beautiful weather and a day off from school. 

Duke supposed they could all use the break. 

“Hey guys,” Steph started as they stood in front of the narrow window of the bear enclosure. “So, we mostly own the night, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But Duke goes out during the day,”

“It’s the light thing,” he said.

“Yeah, the light thing,” Steph waved her hands. “So, anyways, I get that you’re the sunshine child- pun totally intended- but like, you’re strongest when the sun is strongest, right? That makes you-“

“Oh stop,” Tim cackled.

“-a fire bender! And these losers here are water benders!”

Duke gasped and began bending nothing, to Steph’s delight. 

Swirling his arms, Jason engaged him in battle. Even though they turned heads, their moves became more elaborate than strictly necessary.

Well, Duke guessed none of this was -strictly- necessary.

Cass hummed thoughtfully, patting Damian’s head while he watched the bears lumber towards the water. 

“Us yes. Baby, no.”

Tim considered this as Jason nearly sent Duke into a wayward couple.

“He’s an earth bender,” Steph decided, spinning in lazy circles. 

“I have no idea what you people are talking about. Please let me watch the bears in peace.”

“Wait,” Steph practically launched herself against the boys. 

“Don’t you mean the platypus bears?”

Duke backed away from the angry women.  He scratched his chin and leaned over the plaque. “It just says bear here.”

“You mean skunk bear, then?” Tim grinned.

“Or armadillo bear?” Jason’s size was a gift sometimes, as he leaned back and squashed Damian against the window.

“What are you-“

“Gopher bear?” Steph giggled. 

“Just says bear here,” Duke shrugged. 

Cass’s spoke softly, but precisely, as if tasting each sound. 

“Weird place.”

“Weird people,” Damian grumbled. Jason leaned farther back, further pancaking his cheek against the glass.

“Dancing queen, face as red as a tangerine!” Duke poked his nose. 

“Oh, that reminds me, we need to get some fried Oreos-“

“How does that-“

“Shush, Tim. I need fried Oreos clogging my arteries as soon as humanly possible. Come on.”

“Heck yes,” Jason grinned, picking Damian up like a very angry yoga mat. “Steph is in charge now, sorry Duke.”

“As the only capable adult here, I say we need to eat an actual lunch, too.”

Tim took Damian, only to walk with him upside down over his shoulder.  They all pretended not to notice his smile underneath the half-hearted promises of violence.

“Nuggets,” Cass prophesied. 

Steph linked their arms and led the way to the food court. 

...

Duke had been looking forward to this trip all week, and it didn’t disappoint. They saw all the animals, ate terrible food in a less than sanitary environment, then chased each other around and generally made themselves a nuisance to society. 

It was great. 

Some highlights? Cass dared Jason to eat half a hot dog in a single bite. He shoved the whole thing in his mouth, then walked into a pole. Tim fell asleep on top of Steph and mumbled about robot bunnies.  Duke carried Damian around on his shoulders, accidentally walked him into some tree branches, and laughed so hard he dropped him. 

Of course, it had been weird that the zoo hadn’t bumped up the number of workers to match crowd sizes, but it was fine. Just took a little longer to do things. And the place was a little messier.

They were just paranoid, is all.

Cass tossed the purple plush snake around her shoulders as they exited the gift shop to the center plaza. The tail hit Steph, who adjusted her peacock sunglasses with an upturned nose. 

The crowd rushed around them like a steady stream of fish (“Only animal metaphors for the zoo, folks”). Their imposing shark, Jason, frowned as he pushed his way through the flow. 

Damian offered Duke an animal cracker, and he happily picked out a zebra. 

It had been a good day. 

Tim had waited outside for them, citing important business. He smiled and lowered his phone from his ear as they got closer to his seat at the fountain. 

“Hey, Dames, can I have one?” He asked. 

Damian raised a single brow.

Tim could fake emotions with the worst of them. Oh, wait, animals. Dang it, Steph.  Like a honey bee could take a casual stroll.

“And here I was going to offer you my phone to talk to Dick-“

Damian shoved the whole bag at him and grabbed the phone. 

Tim laughed as Damian scurried a small distance away, plunking down just outside the bathrooms.  Twin paintings- one a giraffe, the other a flamingo- labeled the two single person stalls. 

“Any news from Dick?” Steph asked, settling against Tim’s side. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, watching Damian smile into the receiver. “He said he was on his way back.”

It was funny how Jason thought with his face sometimes. Duke could feel the confusion. 

“Wait, isn’t he undercover somewhere in Asia right now taking down Some MobTM with ties to the League of Assassins?”

“From the inside, yeah.”

“And he just, what, finished up early?”

“Pretty much.”

Jason threw up his hands, “I hate this family.”

Steph laughed, dragging Cass half onto her lap while Tim stared distracted at the crowd. 

Just like that, Jason’s face hardened. Following his line of vision, Duke watched a teen scurry out of the bathroom to the main directory on the other side of the plaza. His hood was up and he looked neither right nor left. 

“I’ll be right back,” Jason said, slipping into the crowd flow. 

Probably nothing, Duke thought, watching Cass threaten to push Steph into the fountain. 

“I’d take the quarters, so the joke’s on you.”

“Stealing,” Cass tutted. 

“I’ll look good doing it.”

An eye roll. 

Tim’s fingers rapidly tapped against the stone. 

“Dames, wrap it up, we’re headed out,” he called. 

Damian gave a thumbs up. 

See, it was still a good day. Duke breathed deeply. 

It was fine. 

It was-

The fire alarm went off at the directory.  The crowd turned to look.

Tim tensed, and Duke felt the shock shoot up his spine as yellow light pulsed and swarmed toward the bathrooms. 

Oh no. 

A high pitched whine. 

“Get down!” Duke yelled. 

The bathroom exploded. They threw themselves to the ground just in time to avoid the brunt of the heat and debris. Dirt and rock sprayed in his face. Smoke filled the air, dark and thick. 

Tim scrambled to his feet, coughing. 

“Damian!”

No, Duke thought. 

There was so much smoke. 

They all scrambled toward the bathroom, but the wall where Damian had stood was half rubble and the kid was nowhere to be found. 

Duke stared where he last saw him, but the smoke obscured most of the light. 

Why is there so much smoke?, he thought. It was hard to get a reading. Come on, Duke. The scene kept pulsing, then disappearing. His head hurt, he couldn’t breathe, but the static blur began to form. Come on. 

Tim ran into the building. 

Duke fought through the haze until the blue-tinged flecks obeyed and the scene spotted into focus. He saw Damian drop to the ground just as the wall flew apart. Stray debris littered his body, and a brick to the skull knocked him unconscious. The smoke poured through, but just before everything blacked out, a lumbering figure dragged the kid through the broken wall into complete darkness. 

The present rushed back. Duke inhaled smoke, sinking to the ground. His chest felt like someone was de-stringing his muscles like spaghetti. Twist, twisting the fork. 

“No!” Steph screamed. Tim came out alone and choking for air. Steph pushed her way in, but Duke knew it was useless. 

Damian was gone. 

[cupidsmusings]

The Affair That Never Happened

Description: It was here third and final and final year at Seishun High School. A year that was coveted by most and looked back on with cherished memories. For this particular student though, she found herself in a peculiar situation that set a catalyst for things to come.

Rating: PG-13

Series: The Affair That Never Happened

Chapter 3: To Pen and Paper and Out the Door

Couples: Eventual reader x Shinichi, unrequited reader x Chiharu

Author’s note: In Japan, some love hotels have age restrictions while others do not. In Tokyo, the legal age is 20, which is why the MC is worried about entering a love hotel. Another thing, most love hotels don’t have your normal front desk workers and instead have a touch screen TV in the front lobby to pick which room you’d like. Most staff working in the love hotel are never seen, which is why none were included in seeing her enter the place.

Chapters: 1, 2

   Fuck. Literally what the fuck. She would be finding the entire situation hysterical if it weren’t for the fact that she was almost about to piss herself from fright. What was she supposed to do? Thank God he looked too concerned with keeping himself from vomiting again to take notice of her.

   “Sorry,” Was all he managed to say and held out his hand to her.

   What did he want? Was he having trouble standing and needed help? Moving to the side of him, she grasped his other arm and threw it over her shoulders so he could properly lean against the side that wasn’t covered in vomit. Wait… This could become an even more troublesome predicament. She couldn’t take him back to the dorms. He was drunk as a skunk and she doubted she could handle a fifteen-minute walk back with a grown man basically leaning atop her. Also, it seemed that he hadn’t noticed her, so if she thrust him into a cheap hotel room for him to sleep everything off, she’d be able to leave quickly and return back to the dorms without trouble.

   “Just hang on okay, I’ll find you a hotel for you to stay at tonight.” She told him gently and started to walk forward.

   He released a noise and made a heavy thrust of his head. What an interesting way to nod, but to each their own. The two of them walked at what felt like a snail’s pace and {Name} found herself more and more agitated as the minutes passed. Where was a damn hotel that wouldn’t suck the life out of her wallet?

   “I’m sorry for taking so long,” she apologized and made sure to keep her face out of view of his gaze as she looked about them. “It seems that I’m having trouble finding you a cheap hotel.”

   Without a word, he tightened his grip on her shoulders and guided them down the streets of Tokyo. Despite not being aware of where she was being taken she let herself be guided to a row of hotels. Love hotels. Oh wow. She looked up at him and was fairly amused by the triumphant smirk on his face.

   “Found some.” He slurred, and she couldn’t hold back her laughter.

   “I can see that.” She hummed and looked at the prices listed outside.

   Indeed, love hotels were cheap. What worried her was that she was underage. What would she do if they asked her for her ID? Well, maybe not? A high-school student wouldn’t be out so late with a drunk man. With forced bravado, she guided the two through the entrance of what she thought to be the cheapest hotel amongst them. And when she went to the front desk, she found herself curious about the “themed” rooms mentioned. Imagining the ever so serious Kagari-sensei waking up in a ludicrous room was far too tempting to pass up.

   “What kind of themed rooms do you have?” She found herself asking with a kittenish smirk.

   She clicked the themed rooms button at the top of the touch screen panel and found herself abuzz with excitement. Which one should she pick? The Princess Room? Carnival Room? Medieval Room? A heavy S&M inspired room?

   “Which room would make you squirm the most?” She asked him with a cock of her head.

   He didn’t say anything, and she didn’t expect him to, but when he pressed a button on the Carnival Room, she stared at him with widened eyes.

   “I can’t believe you’re afraid of Carnivals.” She whispered in slight disbelief.

   “Not scared,” he shrugged, or at least tried to but it honestly just looked like he had gotten a cold chill. “It’s just girls like Carnivals, right?”

   That’s when he was staring down at her and she was so stupefied by his answer she forgot to look away. The key-card popping out for them to retrieve was what broke her attention.

   “Well, whatever, let’s hurry up.” She grumbled, a little saddened that she couldn’t choose the S&M room for him.

   The two made their way to the elevator and once on their respected floor, the black tile lit up, pointing them in the direction they needed to go. That was pretty neat.

   “Love hotels are kinda cool, huh?” She commented as they walked to the door of their room. She rummaged through her purse for her wallet, but the large man that might as well have been a large child moved to go through his own pockets.

   “Calm down, I’m paying for it.” She said and tried to swipe her card, but he shoved her hand away with his own so he could swipe his.

   “A gentleman should pay.” He said.

   What a weirdo. It wasn’t as if she was going to stay the night with him, so he didn’t have to act like he was paying for both of them. It made sense for him to pay for it, she knew this because he would be the one staying the night after all. But her stubbornness roared its ugly head and she was more determined than ever to pay for his stay. She shoved his hand away and went to swipe her card, but he, in retaliation to her retaliation, took her wrist in his free hand and moved it sluggishly away so he could successfully swipe his own card.

   Again, that stupid smug smirk was plastered on his face once more. She rolled her eyes and patted him between his shoulder blades.

   “Good job, you true gentleman you.” She commented dryly as she swiped the key card in the door to open it.

   What greeted her was cotton candy-colored walls with large surgery sweets painted on them. The floor was a sparkly pink with blotches of see-through glass randomly placed atop it. Upon further inspection, she could make out glass confections in the shape of balloons and wrapped candies that were surrounded by a gentle layer of soft stretched cotton that gave the falsehood of it being cotton candy. The bed was king-sized, with the four posters striking upward all the way until it touched the ceiling. It twisted and turned like a unicorn's horn and was painted rainbow with a sparkle finish. Carved into the backdrop of the bed was a carousel with nude women and men having sex atop the different animals. There was a couch to the right of the bed that was an ungodly bright shade of yellow with hot pink trimmings. The ceiling was covered with sheets that gave the impression that they were inside of an outdoor circus tent.

  “Toilet,” he managed to mutter out before wrenching himself from her to clumsily make it to the bathroom in time.

   She watched him with pity and slight curiosity. What made him go out drinking so heavily in the first place? Was it the sorrows of love? Was he in debt? Did he realize he’d never get a woman with his rude attitude? Well, that last one could be a part of the sorrows of love but it was an extra jab she couldn’t help giving him. With one final once over of the impressive room she walked into the bathroom. She crouched down beside him and ran a soothing hand up and down his back.

   “You sure did drink a lot, huh?” She smiled at him, not bothering to hide her amusement. “Did you get dumped?”

   “No,” he managed to say after he heaved a few junks in the toilet. “Just met up with an old school buddy that wouldn’t let me leave until he had me drink my fill.”

   “You’re an adult, right? You had the choice to say no, so don’t blame it on your friend. You’re not young enough to experience pure pressure anymore.” She laughed and restrained herself from playfully smacking him on the back.

   “What an astute answer.” He couldn’t say much more because he was throwing up before he could.

   “Not astute, just true.” She hummed and went to gently comb her fingers through his hair. When her father was dealing with a hangover, he liked her mother doing it, so she unconsciously assumed it would help him.

   She should remove her fingers, she knew this, but his hair was so soft. She had never felt such feather-like hair. To be fair she wasn’t going around delving her fingers into the hair of strangers, but it was an honest comment none the less. Once it looked like he was finished, she went ahead and used her already dirtied cardigan to wipe away the leftover vomit that coated his lips.

   “Feels nice.” He smiled at her, and oh boy if he smiled like that more often he would definitely have more suitors.

   “Glad to hear it, I guess.”

   She helped him to his feet and dragged him over to the plush comforter and what seemed to be a thousand pillows that decorated the bed. She watched him sit up and laughed as he put on a dramatic show of trying to remove his suit jacket. Not wanting to waste any more time there than she already did, she hurried to help him remove his jacket. Once out, he reached out and with a contradictory of unsteady but firm hands he tried to undo the buttons of her cardigan, to what she guessed was in order to remove it from her person. She very much liked it on her person though, so she gently pinched the foreskin of his hand.

   “Quit it,” she said but he looked up at her with a stern expression.

   “We have to get you out of your dirty clothes.” He told her, his tone matching that of someone who was telling another that they were about to go into battle.

   “You should take a bath as well,” he started just as she opened her mouth to protest. “You got some in your hair.”

   “I what?” She almost snapped but was thankful that her voice came out more confused than shrill.

   “Here.” He said and gently cupped a few strands of her hair underneath his fingers.

   “Well, that’s just disgusting.” She grumbled on the verge of hurling herself.

   “But it wasn’t when I threw up on your cardigan or when you cleaned my lips for me?” He asked, sounding rather amused despite being the source of her problem.

   “That was on my clothes, but my hair is part of my body, so it’s grosser that way.”

   “Is it?”

   “Yes! Yes, it is!”

   Why was he the one sounding amused now? With a huff, she walked over to the bathroom door before turning a sharp glare at him.

   “If you peek I’ll do some not very nice things to your baby maker.” She warned him before she shut the bathroom door.

   She gently peeled her cardigan off her and made sure that no aspect of vomit touched her skin. Time passed and though she only meant to wash her hair, she had been too tempted by the jetted tub. She had never been in one before, so it was purely for curiosity reasons. It was definitely not because she felt weird leaving the bath after a shower in front of her teacher. Because that would just be silly. And she was a mature woman that didn’t get embarrassed by such things.

   She had been soaking in the jetted tub for about ten minutes when the door was thrusted open, with Kagari-sensei running in. He did not run to the toilet and instead went over to where she was.

   “What the hell are you doing?” She growled and sunk her shoulders deep into the water.

   Thankfully the bubbles from the jets prevented the intruder of seeing her nude form.

   “There’s a camera in here. I pressed a button on the remote and the bathroom popped up on the screen.” He explained, but that was it.

   “One: When did you do this and how much of my body have you seen? Two: Why did you feel the need to enter the bathroom while I bathed? It would have been easier to just pretend like it never happened.” She sighed and quirked a brow at him.

   She wasn’t embarrassed, not at all. Because she was a mature woman and mature women didn’t grow nervous over such things such as the bizarre situation she found herself in. Screw it. This was so embarrassing. She wanted to die. Thankfully the room was also quite dim, so she doubted he could make out her face, let alone her body. But still, death would be appreciated at that point in time. Or the power to teleport. Or the power to erase memories. Both would be amazing to be quite honest.

   “But that would be lying.” He stated firmly. “And I don’t lie.”

   “Everyone lies.” She found herself arguing.

   Was now the time to be arguing? No, no it was not. But here she was, naked as the day she was born arguing with her teacher.

   “Not me. Lying is wrong.”

   “It’s also wrong to come barging into a bathroom where a lady is busy trying to clean herself. Especially after it was the said male that came barging in that caused it. You might as well be the one bathing me.” She replied soddenly.

   That was when he knelt beside the bathtub, readying himself to bath her. She looked to the wall opposite of him, clearly mortified. But with him so close she couldn’t take the chance of him seeing her face. But he saw her face before this right? Maybe he was too drunk to notice? He had not made the comment of knowing who she was. That wasn’t the point though. The point was that she was being sarcastic.

   “I wasn’t being serious. You can leave.” For the love of God leave.

   “Oh, alright.”

   She listened to him walk to the door and waited a minute or two after he left to sink her entire head into the warm water. What a nightmare the night turned out to be. When she left the bath she hurriedly dried her body and only dried the bare minimum of her hair, because if she did all of it, it would take way longer than she would have liked. She just wanted to leave. When she dressed herself she didn’t bother putting her cardigan on and instead opted to just hold it.

   Once out of the bathroom, she found Kagari-sensei’s shoes, pants, and shirt strewn about the floor. He was neatly tucked underneath the sheets like a child. All peaceful and blissful in his drunken state. Screw him for that.

   “Alright,” she started and made sure to reframe from saying his name. “I’ll be leaving now, do you think you’ll be okay?”

   “You can stay too, it’s late after all.”

   “Can’t do that.”

   If he found out who she was he would get her expelled from school before resigning himself in shame. He was far too serious for his own good. At least he seemed to let loose at some points in his life, which was interesting. It was then that she considered that perhaps her school’s teacher’s actually had their own lives outside of being prude-y and stuck-up.

   “At least leave your cardigan.” He urged and before she could reply he gripped the front of her shirt.

   “Fine,” she let out a troubled sigh. “I’ll leave it with my phone number so text me when you’re finished washing it or whatever.”

   “Or whatever? What else would I be doing with it?” He asked, amused once more.

   “Just go to sleep.” She snapped and gently smacked her palm against his forehead. “Set your phone alarms so you don’t oversleep. Bye.”

   She laid her cardigan out on the armchair of the couch before she quickly wrote down her number on a napkin from the bedroom’s wet-bar. She put the napkin on the bright pink coffee table and made sure it was in plain view for him. When she looked at her phone and, upon seeing the time, let out a curse.

   She turned to glare all her frustration out onto the bastard that caused her such trouble. He was, of course, peacefully asleep. With gentle steps not to wake him, she walked over to the bed. With care, she removed his glasses from his face and placed them quietly on the night-stand before leaving the room. It wasn’t until 2:20 that she got back to her room on campus.