#appearing like an angel to save us from cooking dinner after an exhausting day

[libraryspectre]

🔥 tamale for breakfast 🔥

[oinkawa-bb]

first time dads!haikyuu pt.2

request: Hi! I just read your Haikyuu as first time dads and it's so cute! Would you mind writing another one with Iwaizumi, Suna, Atsumu and Osamu? I'm looking forward to seeing more of your writing. Have a nice day! -anon

note: thank u lovely anon for being my first request!!🥺❤️ i enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoy reading it uwu <33 i really hope i did the inarizaki characters justice b/c i’ve just recently gotten to know them!! owo here is dad!iwa, suna, atsumu, osamu 

mentions/topics: pregnancy, domesticity, timeskip, female reader insert

part one (daichi, kuroo, oikawa)

part three (tsukki, akaashi, yams, kenma)

☀︎—hajime iwaizumi

iwa and you have been trying for months

and he’s been super supportive and comforting when each test comes back negative :/

but this one day, you feel different

and he’s sitting on the ground outside the bathroom door just trying to offer positive affirmations bc he’s waiting for you to finish taking the test

but when the door opens, he sees your face and just knows

you don’t even need to say anything bc he already has a HUGE grin on his face and is pulling you in for a hug

he definitely kneels down to plant kisses on your tummy

your attempts to stop him don’t work they never do

soon to be dad iwa is super protective and cautious

definitely feels most comfortable when he can hold or touch you some way when in public

he likes to place his hand gently around your waist or he’ll grip your hand if there’s crowds

sometimes he’s a little too firm in his affection, and you have remind him to lighten up to which he becomes a lil flustered

“hajime...i can’t feel my hand,,”

but when you do go into labor, he whips out this midwife-like knowledge out of nowhere

similar to daichi, iwa became super well informed by researching a lot (but just in secret, you really had no clue)

he watched videos, read through other people’s experiences, and asked a bunch of people for their input

and now he’s super helpful to you through your contractions in the car and at the hospital

he’s calm and firm, supporting you physically to the hospital and emotionally through the labor

but when iwa’s baby finally makes their appearance

he just becomes all ushy-gushy and weak with watery eyes

his hands are pressed together and placed at his mouth in awe when he finally sees you hold his child

and then when he finally gets to hold the baby,

boy oh boy

iwaizumi actually cries a lot more than either of you expected

he’s so smitten with his newborn, and he can’t stop internally & externally praising your strength for carrying and birthing his child 

like he sees you in a totally different light, and he thought it was impossible but he’s fallen even more in love with you now

and he can’t wait to take care of his new family🥺

☀︎—suna rintarou

suna definitely didn’t see this coming,,,

but nonetheless when he processes the meaning behind the bun you placed in the oven, he doesn’t feel anything but sheer excitement

suna’s actually wanted to have children with you for awhile

but he’s never admitted it out loud uwuwuwu

he holds you firmly in his arms and caresses your hair gently for a long time, and you have to ask him if everything’s ok🥺

but it’s literally because he’s lowkey tearing up and at a loss for words

after a few moments tho, he collects himself and slowly presses light kisses all over your face

“i’m just really happy.”

at night, he refuses to sleep when he knows that you’re struggling to sleep due to discomfort

so he’ll lay awake with you and mumble mindlessly about the future he sees with you until both of you doze off

sometimes he just sees you standing at the counter or something and he can’t resist bc ur just so cute!!!!

he’ll quietly come in for a back hug,,,

and he’ll place his chin on your head and his arms around your belly and close his eyes and just stand there for as long as he wants until... 

”rin.... i need to pee”

he’ll let go then probably

but when the day finally comes, his mind is literally all over the place and he’s trying to be calm on the outside

in the car, your breathing is getting heavier and sharper, and he’s lowkey a little panicked but he won’t stop reassuring you for one second

“hey, look at me, you’re okay, it’s gonna be okay”

he’s definitely in pain himself seeing you in labor,

but he’ll be by your bedside, gently holding your hand and letting you squeeze his as hard as you need to

but it’s all worth it when he gets to see his baby with his own eyes,,

when he sees you cooing softly and holding his dear child against your chest, silent tears fall out of his eyes

suna swears he’s never seen a more beautiful sight than this

☀︎—atsumu miya

atsumu comes home from an exhausting day of work, 

and right as he walks through the door, he’s whining your name, about to ramble about practice...

but then he sees a tiny pair of volleyball shoes at the front,,,

and he’s like... o w o

even though he’s tired out of his mind, his brain works quickly, and he’s connecting the dots in his head

you’re just standing there at the end of the hallway all giggly n cute

he raises his eyebrow and then his sly smile turns into a huge one as he runs up to you,

he clutches your face in his hands and is peppering kisses all over you to the point where you have to physically pry him away

basically immediately, atsumu starts using little nicknames for the baby, but they change almost every day LOL

he also definitely downloaded the pregnancy tracking app (even though? you already have one? and it’s unnecessary for him to have it too? he doesn’t care tho)

he checks it every day before work, lets you know what size the baby is, and kisses your bump aka his angel/nugget/muffin/dumpling/etc. before leaving

“y/nnnn my lil’ angel is the size of a bell pepper today”

“atsumu... i know.. i already checked”

atsumu also boasts so much when he’s sharing the news with his teammates and family members

like osamu was somewhat looking forward to being an uncle until atsumu hit him with the daily updates of your cravings and symptoms and how the baby kicked when he placed his hand on your belly and on and on

but he also just wants to make you feel hella loved and wanted during your pregnancy

he can sense that your body image and self-esteem sometimes takes a major hit

so it’s not uncommon for him to be showering you in compliments nonstop

but honestly it’s also just because he thinks ur even hotter... if that was possible....

this is embarassing but i feel like he has you saved as “hot mama” in his phone or smth

and then the day arrives, and the whole drive there, he’s going “oh shit” in his head over and over but he’s playing this cool demeanor on the outside

actually, this carries over into the hospital too, but he just decides that he’ll do whatever he can to pamper the hell out of you & make you feel less uncomfortable

upon first sight of the baby,

there’s no other words to describe how he feels other than his heart just melting on the spot. 

it’s game over for him because he knows that he’ll literally do anything for you and this precious baby now

anything. (prepare to be spoiled rotten)

☀︎—osamu miya

osamu returns from work one day,

and you’re just at the stove cooking, so he comes up behind you, snaking a hand up the bottom of your shirt to caress your bare waist while whispering his greeting in your ear

but then you wince when he touches your stomach

and he’s like “oh?”

he’s super puzzled so he intently observes you as you bite your lip and start to blush

“i was going to tell you this over dinner but i just can’t hold it in,”

osamu kind of already knows where this is headed but he watches as you reach for your back pocket and pull out a pregnancy test neatly tucked in a ziploc bag

he’s been waiting for this moment to come his whole life (osamu a sucker for domesticity imo) so he’s literally internally screaming for joy!!!

but outwardly his smile conveys it all, and he’s chuckling as he pulls you close by the waist to plant a kiss to your lips

during your pregnancy, osamu becomes overwhelmingly nurturing

it’s almost like you’re the baby ???

like he cooks even more for you and is always whipping something up asap when you mention your cravings

what if he made onigiri with the foods you crave as the filling

he does research on ways to quell nausea and discomfort and goes out to buy herbs and ingredients that would make you feel better

basically, he wants to take the best care of you possible my baby

at night, he’s going to let you use him in any way to sleep better

most of the times, you want him pressed against your back and his head nuzzling your neck

he whispers soft and sweet declarations of his love for you and the baby when he thinks you’re asleep you’re not

ok but when the day comes,,,

osamu is just so ready for the baby to arrive that he’s as cool and collected as ever

you’re definitely not tho, and he can sense it, so he’ll find every way to calm you down

meaning,,, he’ll play calming spa music in the hospital room, massage your lower back, gently repeat encouraging affirmations, etc, etc.

osamu takes care of you so well uwuwuwu

and when the baby makes an appearance, you bet osamu leaps to dad duty right away

he’s emotional but clear-minded, and he’s already mentally planning his life with you back at home with the baby🥺

he can see the future with you and this sweet baby for eternity and he’s so ready <3333

[chibinekochan]

Angel in Hell Season 2 part 9

part 1 | 2  I 3  I  4  I 5 I  6  I 7 I 8

Gen. reader insert.

Words  2k

Taglist:

@gothjuulpod  ; @purgatoryhall ; @sibit360  ; @a-personnamed-ace   ;  @romy350-romyakari 

So now after the long last part, we are ending our journey.

Not everything will be resolved, much of the brother’s grieving process has barely even started.

They will certainly all face their battles to come to terms with what they have lost.

At the very least our angel Mc has found most of the answers for themselves. The rest will come with time.

Here is to an ending and new beginnings.

---------------------------------------------------------

"What is going on here?" You hear Luke's voice. 

"We are just discussing some important things." Lucifer waves him off. 

"I'd like to ask the same question. Why are you wet and what is with Asmo keeping you steady?" Simeon looks sternly towards the brothers and keeps his eyes on Lucifer. 

"I used too much mana healing Levi from a curse." You don't want Simeon to get the wrong idea. 

"A curse?" Simeon looks confused. 

"I think we should move somewhere else to discuss everything." Lucifer sounds exhausted. 

"I'm not sure we should go anywhere with you." Simeon goes to your side while glaring at Lucifer. 

"I'm okay with that." You feel that there are still things that Lucifer wants to say. 

Lucifer looks at you and Simeon. Then he looks at his brothers. They all still seem very confused and sad. 

"Maybe we can move that discussion to later. Just keep in mind that I haven't changed my position about you staying here. Whatever or whoever you are right now was never part of my concern. Even if you were just a normal reborn human or a demon I'd do the same thing." Lucifer states this calmly but it has so much weight that you aren't sure how to respond to that. 

"You need to stop being so unreasonable." Simeon frowns at Lucifer. 

"Well call me whatever you want but you don't have a patent on loving them." Lucifer glares back.

  You suddenly feel like you are in the middle of a crossfire. 

"Now now, we all love them but now is not the right time for this." Asmo tries to calm both men down, even when he seems pretty amused by it. 

"You probably have a point." Lucifer still glares at Simeon but accepts a momentary truce. 

"Everyone, we are going home. Satan cooks today and I will order ice-cream for everyone." Lucifer sighs. 

Beel let's Levi go. "Finally I'm starving."

"C-can I have peanut butter flavored ice-cream?" Levi is still sobbing. 

"You don't deserve any," Lucifer states coldly. 

"I think he had enough for today. Just let him have the ice-cream Lucifer." You feel a bit bad for Levi, despite everything he looks very miserable. 

Lucifer sighs and shrugs. "Fine, but better be thankful."

  Levi nods. 

Everyone else chuckles a little bit. 

"Let's go then. Have a good day and rest up." Lucifer seems to only address you. 

Simeon ignores this. 

"You need to help them stand, Simeon." Asmo addresses Simeon. 

You feel a bit better and are about to say no when you notice that Asmo is winking at you. You smile, knowing that he just tries to be nice. He really came around. 

Simeon nods and gently holds your arm, to keep you steady. 

"Thank you Asmo." You mostly thank him for being a friend. 

"You better give me some juicy details later, "Asmo whispers but you are pretty sure that Simeon can still hear him. 

The brothers walk-off, being oddly quiet.

  Luke sighs. "What was that about?" 

"I think they have a lot to think about." Simeon isn't fully sure either. 

"I said it to the others but you don't have to worry about this angel and Mc being the same at all anymore. So my work is done. I have a dinner invitation from Diavolo. How about joining me, Luke?" Solomon seems nonchalant as always. 

"Huh, why would I want to have dinner with you?" Luke is genuinely confused. 

"We have a lot to catch up on." Solomon shrugs and whispers something to Luke. Realization seems to hit him. "Ahhh, yeah we have sooo much to talk about. Don't wait for me, you two." Luke overacts way too much. 

It's pretty suspicious.

  "Alright have fun, Luke." Simeon just accepts this without any further questions. 

You wonder what this about but think that he just wants to give you some space.

"If you wish you can stay at the castle tonight. We have free rooms." Barbatos offers in a very kind manner, even when he just seemingly appeared out of thin air. 

"Would that be better for you?" Simeon is worried about your condition. 

"A bit of rest sounds great, to be honest, but I don't want to bother anyone." You admit a bit weakly. 

"You are no bother. After all the hassle that the brothers have caused you. My lord simply desires to offer you some hospitality. In the hopes that you won't think badly of the devildom as a whole." Barbatos speaks in a very polite manner but it's easy to tell that he means his words. 

"I think the devildom is a pretty great place overall. Everyone is very kind to me." You don't have any ill feelings in particular. 

Barbatos smiles in a kind manner. "I'm glad to hear that. Lord Diavolo will be delighted to hear that. I suppose this is right for you as well, Simeon?" 

"Sure, I have no issues with this." Simeon seems to be mostly concerned about you. 

Barbatos nods and then shows you two to a room. It's very nice, with a comfortable couch and a large bed.

  Simeon helps you to sit comfortably on the couch. 

"Thank you Barbatos." You give him a grateful smile. Now where you sit you start to feel how tired you are. 

Barbatos hands you a towel. "There are some clothes on the bed, please feel free to use them." 

You rub your hair to dry it some more. "Thank you. My clothes are actually dry now. I had this magical stone to warm me up." You are grateful for that. 

"Very well then I will leave you alone. Just call if you need anything from me." Barbatos bows and leaves the room.

  Simeon sighs and then takes a blanket from the bed. "You should wrap yourself with this."

  You nod and carefully place Lucifer's cape on the side. 

The blanket feels nice. Simeon also pours you some tea. He still seems a bit uneasy but patiently waits for you to talk.

  After drinking a bit you start the story. "So Levi got us all stuck in a game. Then he got upset and flooded everything. Lucifer saved me. Then Levi came to fight us all, but I think that was because of that cursed armor. I healed him and we all came back here. That's why I was so wet." 

Simeon raises his eyebrows. He sighs. "They tend to cause problems. I'm just glad that you are unharmed. You should be careful. I'm also a bit sad that I didn't get to see you in action. I bet that was amazing." He smiles a bit. 

You blush. "It wasn't that great."

Simeon chuckles lightly. 

"When we came back here Solomon just dropped that I'm artificially made. I mean it's better than being made off... Well you know. So that means I have no sealed memories. I only share Mc's soul and their looks. I'm still not quite sure how to feel about all of that." You look into your cup. 

Simeon is quiet for a moment. Thinking about his words. Then he gets up from his seat and hugs you. It's very unexpected but it feels nice. 

He is so warm, you hug him back.

  "You can take your time to figure it all out." He softly whispers. 

"I think I'm glad that I'm not someone else. That sounds pretty selfish doesn't it?" You aren't sure if relief is something you should feel right now. 

"I'm glad that you are you, and it's not selfish for you to wish to be yourself. I also think that they were unreasonable to ask this of you in the first place." Simeon sits down next to you. 

This feels better than having him across from you. 

"What did Michael say?" You aren't sure what to add to Simeon's words and you still need to know about that. 

"He skirts around a concrete answer so we are staying in the devildom for now. Well, they won't force us back. So conflict has been averted for now. I hope you are okay with staying here after all of this?" Simeon was hoping for a better answer, for your sake. 

"I kinda like the devildom, even when I could use about 60 percent less drama. I was actually thinking of getting a haircut and a makeover or something. I kinda want to look different, you know. It's been pretty hard looking at myself lately." You aren't quite sure what you exactly want to change but it sounds good. 

"Hmm, maybe some shorter hair would look good on you. You could also just dye it pink." Simeon chuckles a bit. 

You puff your cheeks. "Simeon I'm being serious here!"

He laughs. "I know I'm sorry. I think you will look great in the end no matter what."

You shake your head. "You are such a tease sometimes, but it's kinda nice to see you like this."

"You want to be teased?" He grins. 

"No, I don't! I just mean it's nice seeing you so casual." You blush a little. 

"Ah, I see. I guess I was pretty formal lately. I will do better from now on." Simeon has to agree. 

"I look forward to that." You smile. Suddenly you remember and almost jump up, slightly startling Simeon. 

"I completely forgot about the cookies I made you. I'm sure they are ruined now…" You rummage in your pocket and find the bag. It miraculously survived. 

You pull it out. "It survived!" You say gleefully. 

"These must be pretty special." Simeon gently looks at the bag.

  You nod and hand him the bag. 

He curiously opens it, the cookies are all broken. You look at the sight with pain. Too bad now Simeon will never guess their meaning.

  Simeon looks curiously at the crumps in his hand. "Were these heart-shaped?" 

"They were… Luke told me that humans use this shape to express their love." You feel suddenly very embarrassed. 

Simeon smiles at you. "Thank you very much I appreciate them." He eats one of the cookies, with great delight. 

Simeon doesn't mind at all that they all got broken. 

You feel great relief. "I'm truly grateful I have you. Without your support, I would have never come this far." 

"I'm sure you would have managed just fine without me but I'm glad that I can be your support." Simeon gently smiles. Conveying his sincere admiration for you. 

"I'm not done, let me finish." There is probably not enough time in the universe to tell him everything that is in your mind. 

Simeon nods.

  "You have been my mentor for a long time and then my friend for probably the same amount of time. I think I have known for longer but I was just denying it but you aren't just a friend to me anymore. Despite all of this chaos around me, there was something that became crystal clear to me. No matter what might happens next I want you to be at my side. Not only as a friend but as the person who I love with all my heart." You lay it all right in front of Simeon. Finally admitting your feelings not only to yourself but most importantly to Simeon. 

He seems slightly surprised by your confession. "Do you mean romantically?" Simeon wants to prevent any further confusion. 

"Yes." You state clearly without a second of hesitation. 

Simeon takes your hand and he has a smile that you have never seen before. He is so radiant right now. "I'm so glad that you feel the same way about me."

It's almost like a dam has been broken. Emotions seem to be flowing from Simeon.

  You can see a slight blush on his cheeks. 

Your cheeks blush in turn.

  He leans his forward towards yours and looks deep into your eyes. 

He has never been this close to you. Your heart starts to race.

  Never before in your life did you want to kiss someone this badly. 

Your nose’s touch. Simeon looks at you with such love. You can only hope that the same love is reflected in your eyes.

  After a moment that feels like an eternity your lips meet only for a short moment. 

Then again a bit longer this time. 

Both of you seem to want more of that sweet sensation.

  The next kiss feels more passionate.

  It's all so new but yet strangely familiar.

  You are so glad that you finally told Simeon your feelings. 

With a gentle and happy smile, Simeon looks at you. "I'm so glad you came into my life." 

These words mean so much to you, you feel tears in your eyes. 

"It's alright. I'm here." Simeon whispers. 

And then suddenly tears start to fall. You don't even know why you are crying, or who you are crying for. 

It's not even a feeling of sadness. 

It feels freeing, like all the weight that has been building up inside of you is flowing from your body. 

You cling to Simeon and just sob, like a child. 

He gently holds you close and just supports you without a word. 

"I love you, Simeon." You weakly tell him between sobbing. 

You probably look very ugly right now but Simeon however looks at you with his gentle gaze. "I love you too."

  --------------------

This was all very bittersweet. 

Some parts really hurt while writing them.

Other parts made me smile.

I hope you enjoyed the story and its ending.

As a final note, I really like the fact that Mc got many people supporting them and Simeon. 

A huge note to all of you Simeon and Angel Mc shippers, it's all thanks to you. 

[janeyseymour]

Escape- pt 15

pt 1. pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5. pt 6. pt 7. pt 8. pt 9. pt 10. pt 11. pt 12. pt 13. pt 14.

Jane Seymour has stayed with Henry long enough. Cue Catherine of Aragon and the rest of the girls to save her (Aramour)

The girls are well on their way to their new house, but first they have to stop at the Seymour household. Total fluff chapter.

Midway through the night, Jane had woken up and taken over driving for an hour before Catherine insisted on driving the rest of the way.

“Just until eight or nine, or whenever you wake up. I can handle it,” Catherine promised her.

Around eight, Jane’s phone began to ring, Margaret’s name appearing.

“It’s Cath. She’s asleep.”

“Oh. Well, how are things? How is she holding up? How are you holding up?”

“She’s okay. I’m doing my best not to rush anything. You have no idea how much your daughter really means to me.”

“I think I have an idea. Just keep in mind, I’ve seen how you acted and looked around her for the past ten years. You look at her in ways Henry never could. Jim, he sees it too.”

“Oh.”

“It's nothing to be embarrassed about. We’ve, even when she was with Henry, John and I wanted you two to-”

“Well,” Catherine began to stutter.

“Who’s on the phone?” Jane shifted in her seat as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“It’s your mom.”

“Oh hi Mom,” Jane yawned.

“Well, I’ll let you get going. Sending much love to you three angels.”

“Bye mom. I love you.”

“I love you too Jane. Cath, we’ll talk later.” Margaret hung up.

“Ready for some breakfast?”

“You’re talking to someone who is seven months pregnant. Of course I’m ready for breakfast you fool.”

“I’m a fool that loves you.” Catherine kissed Jane’s hand. “Let me just tell the others.

“Marge! Where are you?” John called from their bedroom.

“Terrace. Just got off the phone with Catherine.”

“Oh, how are they?”

“I couldn’t get them to admit if they’re together or not.”

“Dammit. Just, here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill.

“Wow.” Margaret stood shocked but didn't take the bill. “I’ve never seen you just give into something so easily before.”

“This is so stupid. We share all of our money anyway,” John grumbled.

“Yes, but a bet is a bet.”

“Did you tell her?” Jane questioned Catherine as the two got out of the car.

“No, but I’m willing to bet that she knows something is up. You know your mother isn’t that stupid. And with the other four coming with us, one of them is bound to slip if we don't. Probably Boleyn.”

“Hey!” Anne called from her car. “I can keep a secret if I want to!”

“Yeah right,” Kat muttered from the passenger seat.

As the six sat down at the table, Jane laid down the rules. Any food that Margaret was to offer them, they were to accept. It would be foolish not too. In the words of the blonde, “If you think my cooking is good, my mother’s cooking is heavenly.” The biggest rule, as Catherine would say was “Do not let it slip that Jane and I are dating. I know they wouldn’t care and are actually probably rooting for us to get together, but we aren’t ready to tell them. At least not yet.”

The six ate rather quickly and began to get back into the cars.

“Jane’s parents are about twenty minutes away. We can lead if you want?” Catherine informed the others who agreed quickly.

“Are you ready to see your parents?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I do! Can I drive?”

“You’re so spoiled.” Catherine patted her butt on the way out.

“Lina!” She squeaked. “We’re in public!”

“Yeah, I know. I just really love that we’re together.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah yeah. Here,” Catherine laughed as she handed Jane the keys. “Get moving.” Jane started to walk, but Catherine hung back a few seconds.

“Get to the car you perv!” Jane yelled over her shoulder. “I can feel your staring!”

“I’m sorry. I just really love you.” Catherine jogged to where Jane had stopped.

“She’s not sorry!” Anne called out from her car.

“Who the hell could that be?” John was woken from his nap on the couch.

“I’ll get it. Stay here.” Margaret pushed herself up from her husband’s lap. “John!” Margaret gasped when she opened the door.

“Daddy!” Jane ran to her father.

“Babe! Oh my gosh! You look beautiful!”

“Hey Marge,” Catherine gave the older Seymour a hug.

“Hey John.” The hispanic leaded in to hug her girlfriend’s father.

“Janey, I know you’re a daddy’s girl, but I’m really feeling like chopped liver over here,” Margaret teased.

“Mom! Oh my gosh!” Jane flew into her mother’s warm arms before pulling away. “I have some friends I’d like you to meet.”

“Oh yes! You must all be the friends I’ve heard so much about!”

“This is Anne.” Jane gestured to the young woman with her hair in space buns.

“Pleasure to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Seymour.” She stuck out her hand.

“No no, we don’t do formalities here. It’s Margaret and John.” John shook the woman’s hand, but Margaret pulled her into a tight hug.

“I’m Anna.” Margaret also pulled her into a hug, and Cleves awkwardly patted her on the back. “Sorry, I’m not really used to the whole hug thing.”

“Oh dear, if it made you uncomfortable, I won’t do it again.”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll just have to adjust.” Anna smiled softly at the woman.

“I’m Catherine, but you can call me Cathy.”

“Ah yes, the writer. I’ve read some of your work. Very smart woman you are,” John spoke up.

“And you must be Kat.” Margaret smiled warmly at the pink haired woman slightly hiding behind Anna. “Jane’s told me so much about you.”

“Oh?” Kat hummed. “Uhm, nice to meet you. Jane’s told me a lot about you guys too, and uh, you did a great job raising her. She’s honestly the kindest woman I know.”

“Hey!” Anne whined. “I thought that was me.”

“No need to bicker girls. I’ve told my parents about all of you,” Jane sighed before the two cousins could get into it.

“She really is a good kid, isn’t she?” Margaret prided herself on raising Jane right.

“So, I heard you’re a good cook,” Anna grinned.

“Oh, is Janey talking about my cooking again?”

“She said, ‘If you think my cooking is good, my mother’s cooking is heavenly.’”

“Oh she’s so silly. But I do have a pie baking in the oven. How long are you guys planning on sticking around? It’s almost done, and then it just has to cool. In the meantime, I can whip something up.”

“I’m not sure, but probably long enough to have some pie.”

“Okay well girls, make yourselves at home. You must all be exhausted after driving all night. If anyone needs to take a nap, Jane’s room is the first door upstairs on the right, and the guest room is across the hall from her room.”

“I will take you up on that.” Anne dragged Katherine to Jane’s room while Anna and Cathy made their way to the guest room.

“Mom, oh my god I have so much to-”

“We know,” Margaret cut her off.

“You know what?” Jane looked at her mother questioningly.

“You and Cath?”

“Uhm, no? I was going to tell you about the baby.”

“Oh. Oh my gosh. I’m really sorry honey,” Margaret fumbled over her words.

“Well, this is our cue to grab a beet.” John kissed his wife’s temple and motioned for Catherine to follow him to the garage. Jane leaned up and kissed Catherine’s cheek before the hispanic followed her father.

“So, I’m sorry for Marge. She really thought that’s why you guys were here I guess.” John rubbed his palm against his face.

“It’s alright. It’s uh, hopefully all falling into place. If she wants sir-”

“Cath, what have we talked about with the formalities?”

“Sorry John. Uhm, if Jane wants, if everything falls into place, one day would it be okay if I asked her to-” Catherine cut herself off. She was about to give their relationship away. “Nevermind. I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“No, I know what you’re going to say. You’re not getting ahead of yourself. You know you have Margaret’s and my blessing. We trust you. Stick with her. My Janey deserves a love like mine and my wife’s.”

“That’s the plan. Just don’t tell Marge. I just know she’d end up saying something.” Catherine shook her head in a light manner.

“She would. You’re right. I got it hun.”

Meanwhile, the mother and daughter were seated in the living room.

“I think it’s going to be a boy, but Lina insists it’s going to be a girl. The other girls all think it’s a girl too, so we have a bet going. I bet 15, Lina bet 40, and the other girls all bet 25 each. If I win, they all owe me the money they bet, and if they win, I owe them 15 each. It’s kinda stupid, but it’s fun.”

“It’s a girl!” Catherine called as she walked up from the garage to the kitchen. The older woman walked into the living room and embraced the blonde for a second before remembering they weren’t supposed to be giving themselves away. “I had to, uh, get another beer. And Jane looked cold.” She quickly left, feeling the mother eyeing the two of them.

“Jane. do you have something to tell me?”

“Nothing is there! She’s just- Lina. You know?”

“Whatever you say dear. Are you guys staying for dinner? It’s not a problem, I would just have to go to the store to get some more things.”

“I don’t think so. We’re hoping to get to the new house by dark. It’s a cute place. I looked it up on the way here.”

“That’s nice.”

“Hey honey?” John called.

“Yes love?”

“I need your help. I’m sending Cath up.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” She turned her attention to Jane. “Your father is so needy.”

“Hey you,” Catherine emerged.

“Hi,” she laughed.

“Just kiss me,” the hispanic whispered, desperation in her voice.

“You’re lucky I love you.” She pecked the other woman’s lips. “Just sit with me. We need to leave before dinner if we want to make it there by tonight.”

“Okay, you got it.” Catherine lifted the blonde into her lap.

“You goof.” Jane shifted herself off her girlfriend’s lap and faced her. “I’m fat. Don’t do that.”

“You’re beautiful; that’s what you are.” Catherine lifted her feet and started to massage them.

“Best girlfriend ever,” she sighed as she relaxed into the couch.

“You get anything out of Cath?”

“Not really,” John lied.

“John! Come on,” Margaret groaned.

“Did you?”

“Oh shush it.”

“And I’m still being yelled at? Unbelievable.”

“I hate you so much.” Margaret’s smirk revealed the love in her eyes for her husband.

“Let’s get back.” John lifted his wife over his shoulder.

“John!” she laughed as she swatted at him. “We’re too-”

“We are not too old! You just think we are!” He walked up the stairs with his wife draped over his shoulder. “Hey kids! Look at what the old man can still do!” John laughed hysterically as he gently placed Margaret on the couch next to Jane.

“Are you sure you should do that Dad?”

“I do what I want.” He looked over to see Margaret shooting daggers at him. “So long as your mother is okay with it,” he quickly added on.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re lucky.” Margaret shot her husband a wink.

“Mom!” Jane yelled out in disgust. “Keep it to yourself!”

“Oh please.”

Once the others woke up and had a taste of Margaret’s pie, they begged the couple to stay. The six stayed for dinner, the older Seymour’s very happy to ensure that they were all sent away with a meal made with love in their stomachs. Each of the girls left with an extra plate full of food.

“You all deserve a good home cooked meal,” Margaret said as she forced the plates of food into their hands.

“What you do with food Margaret,” Anna complimented.

“Thank you so much for having us and welcoming us into your home,” Cathy thanked the two as they were running out the door.

“Any friends of Jane are family to us dear. You’re all welcome anytime,” Margaret meant what she said.

“Hey Cathy?” John called after her. When the young woman froze, he spoke, “If you decide to put out any work any time soon, send them my way.” Cathy nodded and continued to shoo Anne, Anna, and Kat out the door.

“We’ll be back once everything settles down hopefully.” Jane pulled her mother into a hug.

“You better! I love you honey, and I love you too Cath.” Margaret kissed each of the girls’ cheeks.

“You too Marge.”

“I’ll see you around, kid.” John clapped his hand on Catherine’s shoulder. “Bye princess.” He pulled his daughter into a hug. After making sure Margaret was busy fussing over Catherine, he whispered, “I know you’re dating. Mom doesn’t. I love you.”

“I love you too Daddy,” she sniffled. “Okay, let’s go before I start.” Jane pushed Catherine out the door and into the car.

“Dad knows. What did you say?”

“Nothing. Let’s head out.” The three cars pulled out of the driveway, and they continued on their way to their new retreat.

“I love you Jane. You have no idea how much I love you.”

[buckybabybaby]

Mr Hollywood (Chapter 5)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1865

Chapter summary: Bucky comes home! But only briefly... :(

Warnings: None I think!

Chapter 4

Mr Hollywood Masterlist

Masterlist

*****

Pouring rain on Halloween night means the bowl of sweets by your front door is almost full as you answer the bell for the final few trick-or-treaters. Normally, Bucky helps you decorate the porch and front garden on the Saturday closest to the thirty first, so doing it alone this year was a bit of a challenge, but you're happy with the end result. 

The witches cat, out for it's third year, sits well by the mini pumpkins and broom, and the motion activated sound effects along the lantern lit path create the perfect atmosphere, just the right side of creepy.

The children certainly seem to approve.

Switching off the fairy lights and putting the leftover treats out of sight and temptation, you curl up on the sofa, scrolling through the pictures you took earlier of your decorations, choosing the best to send to Bucky. By your calculations it should be around midday in Los Angeles, lunch time hopefully, however it's always difficult to judge when he'll have a bit of a break. His replies to your texts have been slow and sporadic, but you understand, and he always apologises for taking so long. Today is a different story though, as the message is marked as read seconds after you send it, and you watch the little bubbles on the bottom of the screen as he types back his response. It's only a short text, saying that he shouldn't really be on his phone right now, but 'Happy Halloween!', and its accompanied by a photo of his own seasonal decorations, a plump pumpkin carved to look like a haunted house. He was always better than you at that kind of thing, you think, as you compare your own efforts with his, marvelling over the intricacy of the design. The picture appears to be taken in his trailer, and you zoom in to the corners, pleased to see it's cosy, homely. You had worried about how he would cope, being thrown in to such a foreign situation, as from the little information Bucky had been able to share, it seemed as though the other actors were old hands at living on set. It looks like Bucky's learned a thing or two from them.

Your reply to his picture goes unread, and you don't expect it to be answered any time soon. It feels like you never have proper back and forth conversations any more, that phone call cancelling his trip home feels like an age ago, and you miss his voice. The first half of the Autumn term wasn't as tough as you thought it would be, Bucky's replacement Peter is as easy to work with, so you have no complaints on that front, its just not quite the same without him.

Later, as you climb into bed, you allow yourself to briefly think about the future. Now that Halloween is done with, Christmas feels just around the corner, and Bucky's return can't come quickly enough.

*****

Luckily, Autumn quickly rolls to an end, and before you can blink, the annual school disco is upon you. The children look forward to it, and while it is a wonderful way to end the school term, with the combination of sugary drinks and snacks from the tuck shop, the only time they're permitted, the excitement for Christmas, and the speakers blasting classic festive songs, keeping it all under control can be exhausting for the adults.

Taking a breather, you wander through the empty corridors until you can no longer hear the commotion from the assembly room. The cloakrooms between the classroom areas are always a little cooler as they aren't heated, and after the stuffy hall its a welcome break.

Discreetly checking your phone you sigh at the lack of texts. You try not to keep it on you when you're working, not wanting it to be a distraction, but you are waiting on a message from Bucky, not so patiently. You want to know when he's going to be back around here so you can see him, but that's difficult to plan for when he doesn't reply. Leaning against the wall, you scold yourself for being annoyed at how uncommunicative he is, its unfair to expect to be made a priority, and it's not as if you're going to be super busy over the winter break. Whenever he's free you'll make sure you are too.

A door shuts nearby and you pocket your phone, pretending to be interested in the staff board in front of you, showing every teacher, assistant, cleaner and cook on it, your picture sitting at the top of the second column. Footsteps approach as you zone out, staring down the photo of yourself, only half aware that they've stopped beside you.

“Is that who took my place? Looks like one of those cartoon me-mes.”

Frowning, it takes your brain a few moments to work out what is happening.

“A what? Me-”

Turning to face the person who interrupted your bubble of quiet, you gasp, sure you're dreaming.

Bucky stands in front of you, and before he has a chance to say hi properly you're throwing yourself into his arms, only just holding in your squeal of joy as he wraps his arms around you. He smells just as he always did, that combination of three colognes you used to tease him about even though it is an amazing scent on him, and the memories it evokes has you snivelling against his chest.

He soothes you, rocking you with him as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve. “Sorry. I'm just tired I think.”

Nodding understandably against your hair, he hold you tight in his arms until your calmer.

Suddenly remembering his earlier words, you giggle as you pull away. “Me-mes? Really Bucky, you're still such a disaster.”

“And a very merry Christmas to you too.”

Smiling so wide your face hurts, you take him in. He's wearing a yellow visitor badge as opposed to your blue staff lanyard, and it makes him look so out of place even with the familiar surroundings. You note that despite spending nearly half a year in California, he's only slightly more tanned than when he left, but his hair looks different, glossier if possible, and softer. His casual style hasn't changed though, and you're happy to see that faithful puffer jacket he bought a couple of winters ago is still around. You can imagine he's grateful for it, coming back to the shock of single figure temperatures. All in all, he looks so much better than you remembered.

“And anyway,” You say, gesturing to Peter's picture that Bucky commented on, “He's actually really nice. So you should be too.”

“If you say so.”

Snorting, you check your watch. “If you have time, you could meet him?”

“I'd love to, but I've got to get to Dayton's. I didn't say I was coming here first, he'll worry I got stuck in the airport.”

“What do you mean? Haven't you been to his yet?”

“I wanted to see you first.”

“It's not really on the way is it?”

“No, but, worth it.”

Your tummy flips, flattered by his honesty. At a loss of what to say in response, you stare at the notice board behind his head, wondering if he's always had this effect on you and you've just forgotten over the months he's been gone, or if this is a new feeling. Even after an absence of six months he still has such a hold over you.

“What about tomorrow?” You ask after a short silence. “You remember the Christmas lunch? I'm sure we could squeeze you in if you wanted.”

You cross your fingers behind your back, desperate to have him here a little longer.

“Only if they have those potatoes I like.”

Thinking about how you'll make them for him yourself if you have to, you laugh at his condition for attendance, before escorting him back to the entrance foyer and his waiting taxi.

*****

“Are they not feeding you over there?” You chuckle, watching fondly as Bucky scoffs down a very full plate of dinner. Students and teachers a like have been absolutely delighted to see him again, and he's been given pride of place at the main table, with you squashed in beside him at his insistence. Peggy sits opposite, giving you a significant look every time your eyes meet.  She's not pleased that you aren't paying attention to her.

“Well, yeah, but only the really healthy stuff.” He takes a last forkful, scraping at the plate forlornly, before eyeing the food you are yet to eat. Sighing good naturedly, you push it towards him. “Go ahead.”

Thanking you with a grin, he tucks in, quiet until you question him on how long he'll be back.

“Only a couple of days.” He cringes at your confused expression.

“But I thought-”

“I know, I know. But as we've had so many delays because of the weather, everything is so behind, we're basically filming all hours of the day. Most people on set have never seen anything like it, and it's only going to get even more intense. They want to hit the summer season so we're doing all nighters to get it finished.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“And then press and promo, I don't know when I'll get to come home next.”

You don't know what to say. Bucky only arrived yesterday, and now that it looks like he'll be gone by the end of the week you're lost, disappointed and angry at someone or someone's you haven't met.

“Are you at least getting enough sleep?”

He shrugs. “Does anyone in this industry?”

Peter interrupts your conversation before you can continue your interrogation, flopping down between you and Bucky to introduce himself, seemingly in awe of everything about him and his life after Wild Fields Primary School. He knows what you've told him, so not much really, and whilst he tries to dig for more answers from Bucky you force yourself to smile and enjoy the little time you have with him.

*****

The end of lunch comes too soon and whilst you would love to stay with Bucky, teaching duties call. He's driven himself here so you walk with him back to the door out to the car park, refraining yourself from giving him a hug as it feels inappropriate in front of so many people, but he has no such qualms, and ignoring everyone around, you treasure being so close to him, conscious that it may be a long while until you see him again.

Stepping back eventually, you peer through the drizzle at the car Bucky's hired for the day, only half surprised to clock the luxury badge on the front. Not exactly the little run around he used to own.

“That looks very fancy, really going up in the world aren't you?”

“I'm still me.” He says, smiling bashfully as he presses a kiss to your forehead, before slipping out of the door.

“Just don't you forget about me Bucky Barnes.”

“Never, doll.”

You wave him off, not knowing then that Hollywood has a way of changing people, and that sometimes they can't keep their promises.

*****

Chapter 6

[tastelikesleepdeprivation]

Domestic Human!Jack Headcanons featuring his three dads:

-Sam : no dessert after dinner, it will rot your teeth and we don’t have dental insurance because, legally, Dean and I are dead and Cas isn’t human so he can’t have insurance

-Cas: *sneaks Jack a cookie under the table during dinner, winks*

-Jack, with tears in his eyes, “thank,,”

Jack sneaking back into the bunker:

-Cas sitting in a chair and turns the lamp on: “where have you been?”

-Jack: “uhh with Dean”

-Dean, sitting in a chair next to Cas, turning on another lamp: “wanna try that again”

-Jack: “uhh with,, Sam?”

-Sam, in another chair next to Dean, turning on another lmap: “wanna try that AGAIN?”

-Jack likes it best when Dean cooks cause Cas can’t taste anything but “particles” so it’s always bland and Sam just can’t cook but Dean makes the best burgers Jack has ever tasted

-Jack sometimes has nightmares about Lucifer but if it’s a really bad one it’s about Dean, Cas, and Sam dying while Jack is standing by, unable to do anything cause he doesn’t have his powers and he wakes up panting and in a cold sweat with Cas right by his side because Cas doesn’t need sleep and will always be there to make sure to wake up Jack and comfort him during his night terrors

-Sam introduces Jack to books and tears up when Jack gets super excited about them because finally someone else who reads (not countering the literal one book Dean has read) and his favorite thing is sitting by Jacks bed side while reading The Wizard of Oz cause Sam told Jack all about their badass friend Charlie and her girlfriend Dorothy who saved all of them and Jack loves hearing about this apparently very real magical world

-Jack is actually really observant for his young age so when he sees Dean shuffling into the kitchen, scratching at his two week old beard with bags under his red rimmed eyes from fitful rest he announces a vacation day which Dean originally objects to but when Jack gets Cas and Sam on board he caves and so Dean hops in Baby with Sam to his right, Jack behind him and Cas behind Sam and they just drive. Dean puts on some classic Rock and Roll to “culture the kid right, Sammy” and they stop at some greasy diner and Dean laughs over his burger while Sam grumbles into his salad, Cas flashes his gummy smile and Jack hides his grin behind his drink and looks at his family and just living in the happiness he helped create and is a part of

-Dean got to be a father twice before technically but it never really felt like this. Never really felt like anything with Emma and while he got to be with Ben for a couple months it never felt permant, not like this, not like with Jack. So Dean cherishes every small moment he gets to teach and pass on something to Jack, whether it be through how to rile up Sam with a quick joke, or how to correctly wash and fold Cas’ trench coat, or do some work on Baby. Teach him something that doesn’t involve killing or hunting. Something normal, something a normal father would pass onto his son

-One of Jacks favorite occurrences between jobs is when Dean would cook all of them dinner and he would be wearing the apron Sam got for him as a joke (but secretly loves) and Dean would put on some music and would loudly sing along, shouting the lyrics while wildly waving the spatula in the air.

-Sometimes, Jack would pretend to be asleep when he would hear footsteps outside his door because he knew that Cas always comes and checks on him after he goes to bed. Cas carefully cracks open the door, and while Jack pretends to be asleep, Cas will put a gentle hand in his hair and place a chaste kiss on his forehead and Jack would wait until Cas pulls the door closed to smile into his covers

-Shopping with Sam was Jacks favorite. Sam usually did the shopping because Cas would forget the human stuff like tooth paste and toilet paper and Dean would buy pie instead of vegetables because he “forgot ‘em, sorry Sammy” so Sam always did the grocery shopping and would let Jack tag along, letting him get ONE candy (he always got nougat)

-Watching marathons with Dean is one of Jacks favorite passtimes because while Dean was a closeted chick flick watcher, Jack was an out and proud chick flick fanatic so both boys would sneak away for a night every so often when a new movie finally came out on Netflix

-One of Jacks favorite memories was when everyone went grocery shopping together when Jack was first turned human to find out what kind of foods he liked so he could have it available at the bunker, Dean grabbed the chips and junk food for him to try while Sam grabbed the fruits and vegetables, Cas gave his opinion now and then about what he rememberd from when he was human, especially his like of pb&js.

-Jack would go through bouts of insomnia to keep away the nightmares and this was the beginning of his midnight trips to the kitchen for snacks where he was joined sometimes by Sam but mostly Castiel which he preferred cause they would stay up late talking about the beginning of the universe and the thousands of years Cas has lived and what he has seen.

-When he turns One on May 18th, Dean, Sam, and Castiel decide to throw him a party, in their own way of course. Dean bakes the cake which is chocolate and has writing in icing on the top which says “baby’s first birthday” and they have streamers from toilet paper and first-aid gauze hung up all over the bunker. Sam gets him a new flannel so that he “can officially become part of the team” and a new book called The Great Gatsby which he can’t wait to start. Cas gets him a mixtape he made from all the songs he noticed Jack bobbing his head to when Dean would blast the radio. And Dean. Dean gets him a necklace. Not like the one Dean had, he told Jack all about the one Sam gave to him. But a necklace just for him that had the angels symbol for protection hand carved into the wood

-Sam is the first one to call Jack son to his face. Sam had just finished the last chapter of The Great Gatsby and Jack was crying because he thought that Gatsby didn’t deserve that kind of end to his life. Sam had closed the book, set it on the bedside table, wiped the tears from Jacks face, kissed him on the forehead and said “ it’s alright son, his story isn’t over, just moved to a new place”

-Cas first called him son on the night of one of Jacks worst night terrors. Jack heard screaming and woke up in a cold sweat to Cas at his side holding him close and whispering “I’m here, Jack, I’m here son, it was only a dream, I’m here” in his ear. Only until the screaming in his ears stopped did he realize it was coming from him and it wasn’t until he had fallen asleep on Cas’ shoulder from exhaustion and woken up the next morning to feel Cas still running his fingers through his hair did he notice that Cas called him son

-Sam and Cas had called Jack son early on and while Dean knew in his head and in his heart that Jack was his son he couldn’t say it to him. Experience and pain had taught him that once he said it, it would be real and so would the pain he will feel if, when, Jack gets hurt or killed. So he avoided it, calling him kid, kiddo, sport, and every other dumb nickname under the sun but still not that word until one hunt. It was supposed to be a normal job (famous last words, Winchester) until it went sideways and the werewolf got a claw into and up Jacks stomach. Only when Dean had shot the bastard in the chest until his gun was clicking empty did Dean fall to his knees next to Jack, holding his hands over the kids wound shouting at Sam to “hurry up and get the damn car!” Only when he looked at Jacks closed eyes and the shallow rise and fall of his chest and sees his pale face did he whisper for only Jacks ears “come on son, hold on. You gotta stay with me Jack, you gotta wake up son, you gotta wake up, you have to wake up”

-When Jacks hair starts curling around his ears does Sam decide to give him a haircut. Well, it was Sam at first until Dean grabbed the scissors and hip checked his brother out of the way saying “with your mane, I’m surprised you even noticed Jacks hair getting long. Move over, Sammy, I cut your hair for twelve years I’ll cut the kids hair”

-it’s Fourth of July and Dean insists on taking Jack to see the fireworks. One of Deans best memories is of him and Sammy shooting them off in some abandoned parking lot decades ago so he thought that he could give Jack a memory just as precious. Sam packs a picnic with some snacks and Castiel stuffs the impala with blankets. They drive out to the nearest town and set up shop in front of a closed grocery store across from the park where the towns show was set up to go off. Castiel hadn’t seen fireworks up close before so he was also excited. Jack was practically bouncing in his seat asking “ are they really made from fire?? How do they work??” And Sam and Dean would laugh and tell him they were really loud and colorful. When the fireworks officially started, Jack was terrified. It was so loud and he could feel the reverberations in his chest, they would come in no random order so he was suprised by the POPS. But after a while he was soon enraptured by the colors. Cas was just as enchanted by the way they would appear one moment and be gone the next. Jack and Cas loved the show so much they asked when the next one was and both were just as confused when Sam and Dean just laughed saying not until New Years

-Since they can’t exactly call a cleaning service to come and mop their underground bunker filled with weapons and proof of the supernatural, Sam established a chores list. Some chores depended on the day, like if Dean cooked he didn’t have to do the dishes but every person was given a chore, no matter what. Dean always grumbled but everyone knew he preferred a clean bunker. Cas would simply nod and go about his work, sometimes humming whilst doing so. Jack was just glad he had something to do that was of use to his family. And ironically, Sam was the one who forgot to do his chores most often

-whenever Jack manages to join the older three men on a hunt he always gets stuck in the back seat of the impala. Dean always drives, Sam always gets shotgun, Cas always sits behind Sam and Jack sits behind Dean. He doesn’t mind that much because on the truly long rides, the cross country rides, Cas lets him put his feet in his lap so he can lean against the door or sometimes he puts his head in Cas’ lap while Cas runs his fingers through his hair, falling asleep to the sound of the impalas engine rumbling, the quiet humming of the radio, and the muffled rapping of Deans thumbs on the steering wheel.

-Now that Jack is fully human, his body starts being fully human too which involves shaving. Sam pointed out his stubble first and offered to pick up razors and shaving cream next time he went to the store. Jacks first attempt at shaving began and ended quickly as he had no idea what to do, so he went to Cas. Cas,, tried. Being an angel and his vessel remaining the same he had no reason to shave (besides the one time after purgatory which still doesn’t make any sense) but he doesn’t know how to manually shave, just, angel shave. And that’s how Dean finds them later, in the bathroom both with their faces covered in shaving cream and staring at the razor like it would come alive and attack them. Dean chuckled but refrained from making a joke and helped to teach both boy and angel how to shave.

-Cas’ signature Pat of Reassurance is on Jacks shoulder. He’ll just hold his hand there on Jacks shoulder for a couple seconds longer than necessary, pat twice and then walk away. Sams signature Pat of Reassurance is on Jacks head or the back of his neck. Most of the time it’s a solid weight, a comforting weight but sometimes it will be a playful weight, a ‘you did something good and this is how I show it’ weight. Deans signature Pat of Reassurance is on Jacks back, right inbetween his shoulder blades. Most of the time it’s more of a slap than a pat but when it really counts, when Jack yearns for a physical sign of a reassurance, Dean always seems to know and just holds his hand steady

[ur-mom-kayn]

Happy Father’s Day

A little story about Vergil and Nero. DMC 5 Spoiler are included!

Several months passed after that 15th of June. After Dante and Vergil jumped into the underworld to cut the Qlipoth tree and close the gate from the other side, Nero took over the business meanwhile. Together with Nicoletta Goldstein, he traveled from A to B to root out the remaining demons in Red Grave City, so that the city became habitable again. Trish and Lady also helped out and took orders from Morrison to secure the rental of the Devil May Cry. The situation is pretty much normalized. While the ladies always ordered pizza, Nero preferred Kyrie's homemade. No delivery service is better than her. Fortunately, Fortuna was not far away from the others, so Nero always got home in the evening.

A big disadvantage had Dante's disappearance. Nero had far too many women around him. One was enough for him. He desperately needed male reinforcement again. Since he learned that he has a family, he was all the more eager for it. Unfortunately, immediately after he found out, he lost both family members. It was strange to feel something like yearning for a man who had missed all his development as a man. Vergil really deserved the award for the worst father of the year. First, separate his son's right arm and then disappear into the underworld.

All his life he lacked male role models. Credo was the only one who could show him to be a man. But even he had to find out for himself. Nero had little choice but to fight his way through life and find his own way. Looking back, he is very happy that he became a man on his own. Neither his father nor his uncle is suitable for a role model. Nor their dealing with conflicts or with women suits Nero. They fight like children and try to kill each other. Not to mention that they indiscriminately sleep with women and cannot remember their names the next day. Such a man Nero didn't want to be and he is not. Unlike the idiots, he loves and honors his girlfriend. For her, he would run through hell and take on any torture just to save her. Kyrie was his sun and at the same time the person who keeps him on the ground. She never asked questions about his job and distracted him from everyday stress. Her voice was that of an angel, even though she didn’t have the same musical taste as him, he was her biggest fan. In his eyes, she was just perfect.

...

Right now he was sitting at the dinner table with Kyrie, happily feeding her casserole. She had cooked too much again. Today, the house was exceptionally empty. No Nico, Trish or Lady. Everyone came to visit them constantly. Today, however, the couple remained under themselves and that was a good thing. Sometimes the others were just exhausting. While Nero was stuffing his stomach, Kyrie was preparing more things. "Honey now sit down for a while. I can not eat any dessert here anymore. I'm already overwhelmed enough." "But you need the energy. You have to become big and strong, after all," Kyrie joked. "Very funny. Now plant yourself and eat with me. Otherwise, it'll be cold." "Give me another 5 min." Nero let it to discuss with her. When he decided to continue eating, the doorbell rang. "Kyrie? Are you expecting visitors?" "No, but do you still want to look?"

Since the incident in the garage, Nero has been extra careful while opening doors. He could easily refrain from losing limbs again. As he remembered this incident, he looked into the face of the man who had put him in this position. "V-V Virgil? I mean, father? What are you doing here? How did you get out of the underworld?" "No hello?" Nero remained speechless for a while. He did not know exactly how to handle the unexpected visit. If Dante stood in front of him, he would have stupidly flogged and messed with him. But with Vergil was not so much fun.

"Yeah sure. Hello. Do you want to answer one of my questions now?" "One thing I can actually answer for you and that’s why I am here. I think my last visit was not very enjoyable. Also, I had no idea that I have a son. I just followed the energy of Yamato and everything else did not bother me a shit. Can you understand?" "No, I can not. I'm not going to cut a stranger's arm off just because he has the Red Queen. That's stupid." "We have different views. But whatever. At first, you did not care. I did not want to have anything to do with you or otherwise have a family connection. But the longer I was in hell with Dante, the more he told me about you. I became curious and had become friends with the idea of owning a son. Do not get me wrong. This is not supposed to be a reunion here. I just want to meet you as long as you feel like it."

He definitely did not expect that. Slamming the door in front of him did not work, but pretending that nothing had happened felt wrong. Nevertheless, Nero overcomes himself. "I can not leave now. There is still a pile of a casserole on the table and someone has to eat it, otherwise, my girlfriend will be uncomfortable. So if you do not already have plans, you can really join this time." "Thank you for welcoming me with open arms," Vergil answered, just walking past Nero into the house. "Hey! No jokes about that." Nero closed the door behind them and showed him the way to the kitchen.

The first thing he noticed was Kyrie, who was also preparing a cheesecake. Hopefully, Vergil behaved towards her. "Hey, Nero. Who brought you there?" Kyrie approached Vergil and looked closer into his face. "Dante? No. But the face is so similar. Ehm, I'm glad to meet you. I am Kyrie, Nero's girlfriend." Amiable as she was, she sincerely extended a hand to Vergil to greet him. Vergil looked puzzled at first but took the handshake like a normal person. "The pleasure is mine. I'm not Dante, but his older twin brother Vergil and the old gentleman of the boy next to me." Nero could see clearly how Kyrie froze a little bit. I hope she did not turn now. "Did I say something wrong?" "No, I think she did not prepare to meet her future father-in-law. Come let us sit." Nero went ahead and sat down. Kyrie fetched dishes for Vergil and then sat next to Nero, where Vergil sat in front of him.

"So, is it really that far, or are you not engaged?" Confused, Kyrie and Nero looked at each other. "Ehm, we never talked about the possibility of a wedding. We are still relatively young. That was more of a joke than serious earlier." Nero said visibly nervous. He did not want to say anything wrong and annoy Kyrie. She smiled confidently and hooked on Nero's right arm, which was the normal human arm at the time. "Nevertheless, I was somewhat surprised to meet the other son of Sparda out of nothing. I'm basically overwhelmed with your family history. "Vergil looked skeptically at Kyrie. "How is that meant?" "Well, you should know that Kyrie believes in a religion where Sparda resembles a deity. The fact that she was allowed to meet Dante was an ‘honor’ for her, and when it came out that I'm practically the grandson of Sparda, that brought the cask to overflow." Nero had to smile over it again and again. "Hey, do not make fun of me. What else is left to us humans than to hope for a savior?", Justified his girlfriend. "Sry, it's funny. You know me as a human. Then we come closer, suddenly I am a demon and save your life, we become a couple and a long time later you find out that you are in fact with the grandson of your Almighty together. That's just the funniest thing I've ever heard." "Yeah, but I love you for your personality and not for your roots." "I know, I just wanted to joke you." Nero patted Kyrie on the head as if she were a good kitten. He realized that she was blushing slightly.

Vergil watched the spectacle and began to eat. Nero stopped annoying Kyrie and also continued his meal. His girlfriend recovered and smiled happily. "And does it taste good? May I bring you something to drink?" "It tastes excellent. Haven’t eaten anything so good for a long time. I do not want to cause you any trouble, but a glass of water would be just right." Vergil was surprisingly polite. Nero did not know this side of him. Basically, he did not know him. So far, he was only allowed to see the bad side. That he had good, he dared to doubt strongly. But right now he seemed like a gentleman to him or maybe that was just his style for appearing well with women. Anyway, Kyrie seemed quite flattered and brought Vergil his drink. "Thank you". he replied as he took the glass.

"So I just ask again, what's Dante doing?" Nero asked curiously. "Hm? This idiot? Well, he's definitely with his girls and eating pizza." "So you did not fight any further and returned home together?" Vergil grinned and shook his head lightly. "I think it would be a lie if I said that we had not fought each other. Of course, we hit each other's heads at every opportunity. But as soon as a horde of demons arrived, we switched focus. We have agreed that it is much fun to fight, as we end it by death." "Then you have settled your dispute?" "Postponed," Vergil answered curtly. Nero was satisfied with the answer. He would not get out any more.

For a while, nobody spoke a word. They ate quietly and exchanged eye-to-eye contact from time to time. "Hey honey, it would be alright for you if I go for a walk with Vergil," Nero broke the silence. "Of course. As long as you only get well and well home, I do not much care what you do." "Thank you for your confidence." Nero leaned into Kyrie and kissed her gently on her cheek. Then he got up and brought his plate to sink. Vergil wanted to do it like him, but then Kyrie stopped him. "Let me do that. Just amuse you both. ", She smiled at him. Vergil then left the dishes and went out of the door. Nero quickly grabbed his weapons and joined him. "Where should we go?", His father asked him. "No clue. The main thing is that we are among us.", He countered. "Does your girlfriend bother you?" "No. I just do not want her to hear me speak real talk. I tend to give one or two bad words. She knows that I am like that, but still I try to avoid it." "You realize that she is a saint." "Of course! She is way too good for me. She is such a great person and I... am a monster. Often I have to listen to why Kyrie is ever with such a guy like me. "

Vergil laughed amused. "She loves you. What does it itch you, what others think of your relationship with her? Should not you just be interested in her opinion?" The two men just walked down the street with no apparent goal. "Yes. Ultimately, I'm only interested in her opinion. Which is also why I try to be a better person and curse less. Oh, what am I talking about, I'm not even a human." "But you are. I only slept with human women, if I recall correctly, and I myself am half human. Demon or not. Your actions characterize you and not your race. My dad was a demon too, but was he evil? I do not think so. The same goes for you. You have a healthy sense of justice." "Was that a compliment?" Nero questioned. His father only shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe you are right. What about you? Are you evil? "Vergil raised an eyebrow in question. "That is, I think, a matter of opinion. I do not want to answer the question." "You basically do not like answering anything. Come on. Let's have a drink, maybe I'll finally find out what kind of man my father is." Nero feels like in a cat and mouse game. He had to tickle information out of Vergil and he does that only by telling things about himself and only giving Vergil his reaction to it. Annoying as he found. "Do you drink alcohol?" Vergil asked. "No, but I can start with that. And you?" "I never say no to good scotch. But compared to my brother, I behave more than a nun." Nero laughed uncontrollably. He knew for sure that Dante liked to let it crack as soon as he had a little money. Or he ate full of Strawberry Sundae. "Honestly, I'm more worried about his fast food consumption. A miracle that his body is still in good condition." "In fact, it has its advantages to be a demon. I've stopped counting how many times we put a sword in our guts. Do you have a number?"

Nero really had to think. It was definitely countable. "So once in the strange laboratory of Agnus. The sword was 20-30 cm wide. Was a little fucked by it. Fortunately, the broken Yamato was in the background and I instinctively repaired it and used it to get out of the shit. The other times were already you in our fight on the tree." "So you say you repaired my sword?" "Seems like that." Vergil put his hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "Then I have to thank you. Thanks ..." He quickly removed his hand and entered the pub, where they stood for a few seconds. Right at the entrance, the two were looked awry. Immediately Nero drove to the counter and told the innkeeper that they were devil hunters. The innkeeper gave the guests a hand signal, so they all calmed down. "Apparently you often go with your weapons in such places.", Vergil remarked. "Not really. But as a devil hunter, you'll always look wryly when you run bloodied through the streets ... Two double scotches, please." Nero ordered.

The innkeeper looked closely at Nero. "Boy, sure you're of legal age?" "That's fine. I am his father." The innkeeper said nothing and handed them their order. "Thanks," Nero said to him. "Why?" Vergil asked, startled. "Because you called me your son. I thought I meant nothing to you." "Would we sit here otherwise?" Vergil snapped. "Yes, but I thought that you would just want to get to know me. And I also want to get to know you. So, what are you doing in your spare time? Except arguing with my uncle." "Not much. I am very well read. I enjoy spending my time in libraries and broadening my horizons. Because knowledge is power. And what are you doing, other than Dante's inheritance?" "Not much either. I like to screw and work on my van. But otherwise, I spend my free time with my girlfriend."

"And what are you doing together, except to fuck." Nero could not quite grasp that he called things by their name. He took a long sip of scotch, so his throat burned from the inside. "I ... would you please not use the word fuck when it comes to my girlfriend? She is my sanctuary. I do not want such words to be associated with her." "Okay, I'm revising my testimony. What are you doing besides love?" "No idea. Chilling? I mostly listen to her singing and smile at her. I know that sounds pretty boring." "You do not have to impress me. I can understand, if you slaughtered demons all day long, that you want to be quiet in the evening, then. I am no different. I mean, I really just read books, besides my argument with Dante. So just stay honest."

Somehow he was right. Whether boring or not. That's how he was. And Vergil also seemed to be a boring person privately. Maybe they had similarities, except for the look. Nero looked around the bar and saw some free billiard tables in the corner. "Hey, have you ever played pool billiards?" "In the youth, it's one or two times. Want to challenge me? Are you aware of the rules?" "Pff. I've done Dante several times already. Let's get the place mixed up." Nero drank the rest of his drink and put money on the counter so it was enough for him and his dad. Together with Vergil he went to one of the tables and exchanged his sword for a billiard Cue stick. "Who's supposed to kick off?" Vergil asked. "Age before beauty." Nero joked. His father did not let him say that a second time and started for the first shot. With a certain elegance and a degree of finesse, he pushed a whole bullet into the hole, leaving half for Nero. "Tch. Beginner luck," he mocked. "Oh really? And then what about this." Vergil started again to play the brown ball over the gang. As if that were planned, the ball landed again in the hole. "Played because of times in the youth. You're doing it professionally." Nero felt like Vergil wanted to bamboozle him.

He could not poke the next shot. The balls were so unfavorable that the master Vergil could do nothing more. "Now show what you have on it." For Nero, it was not a big challenge when the white ball with half and the hole formed a straight line. He punched in with ease. Then he tried with a push both the pink and the green ball. With luck and a bit of skill, he succeeded. "Wow. It really was not from bad parents." "Funny how you praise me and make yourself a compliment at the same time." Both grinned for a brief moment and then played on. The duel was consistently very close. They played 2 rounds, in each of which one could take the victory. As you know, in this family they always stopped as soon as they drew. "Those were good games. Should we repeat that." Nero could not believe what was just coming out of Vergil's mouth. He really wanted to meet with him again? Not a bad idea in itself, just what were they now. Buddies or father and son. Somehow, Nero wanted both. "Yes, sure. You know where to find me. What are you going to do now?" "I do not know. Make me smarter, so I find new ways to go to my brother's bag. That's the way things are. Exercising will also be an option. In a week I meet again with Dante on a fight. We will probably do that more often. If you feel like it, we can fight again. It's really fun." "Thank you for including me in family traditions." "Of course. After all, you belong to the family as well," Vergil said, putting an arm around Nero's shoulder and pulling him closer.

He would never have thought it possible to experience such a father-son moment. Even if it was an invitation to a bloody battle. But that was the way his family was now. Devils under themselves. "Alright. I'll come next week, too. But I do not need any preparation." "If you think so ..." Vergil broke the half-hug and fastened Yamato back on his hip. Nero put the Red Queen back on and did not really know what to do. "And what are we going to do now?" "I'll better put you to bed now." "You're 20 years late for that," Nero joked. Together they left the place and sat in the direction before they started to move. Meanwhile, it was already dark and it showed a clear starry sky. Nero just did not know what to say. For one thing, he had now met his father, but somehow not. But maybe that would change in the future.

Just as the silence was almost unbearable, demons appeared out of nowhere. "Luckily, and I thought the city was really so boring," Vergil commented. "Fortuna? You should have been here two years ago. There was an overload of demons. I had to work overtime to get the city halfway clean." "Too bad I missed the fun." Both drew their swords and plunged into action. Nero felt a lot of pleasure in sharing his passion with his father. Vergil was really extremely strong. Nero did not manage the Yamato as he did. He could theoretically still learn a lot from him. However, he still wanted to go his own way and develop independently. After wiping out all the demons, Vergil had to smile. It was hard to judge the smile, but he looked proud. But why? Not on Nero, is it?

They continued on their way until they stopped at Nero's house. That was probably the unpleasant part of every date. Only that it was not a date, but introductory drinking. Nero did not open the door directly but hesitated a bit. He was torn what he should do now. The situation was shitty, but he decided to follow his heart. He took all his courage and just hugged Vergil out of nothing. "Thank you, Father." It felt strange. It was also embarrassing. He just hoped for a reply so it would not be so embarrassing. After a brief sigh, Vergil answered, "No. I should thank you for being such a good son. I'm sorry that I was not there for you. You deserve a better life, but you can not choose it. And ... I think I could not have done better. You have become a great man. I am proud of you my son." As he spoke these words, Vergil returned his hug. They enjoyed the closeness for another 5 seconds before they dissolved the hug. After that Nero got the keys. "Oh yeah, should you tell somebody about here, you know what I'm supposed to do." Vergil threatened. "I would like to keep the last part to myself, father. So I'll say goodbye now. Kyrie could now take some attention from me. Ah yes, do you want your book back?" "No, keep it. You do not have anything else from me. See you next week at Devil May Cry, son." They smiled briefly again until they turned and started walking again.

[thelostandforgottenangel]

Christmas Kisses

@devilsnevercry1388

He didn’t know how he was going to get through today; they had left hours ago for patrol with no action what’s so ever the entire night coming home to find the lair decorated brightly.

Mikey had mischievously hung mistletoe up a few days before teasing them lightly every time somebody would step under them but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with this time of year; Christmas was cool and everything but he wasn’t into the cheerful decorations, the expectations, and sappy music. You add in Michelangelo’s energy and his need to over-do the holidays, and well there was going to be more than one chance to kill someone

“What’s all this?”

Leonardo was the first to step further into the den looking around laughing when he saw the sparkly decorations that seemed of cover the room were thoughtfully placed; there were lights hung around the doors and ceiling bringing a glow across the area, a giant tree standing in the middle of the room half decorated with several strands of colorful lights with a small box on the floor next to it that had a few of their throwing stars with wire wrapped around them into a small hook

“MIKEY! Did you do this?”

He shook his head moments before the door in the dojo opened and April was climbing down the ladder with a backpack over her shoulder before they heard a loud giggling

“Hey kid slow down or your gonna-”

“Can’t catch me Case- Shit!”

They looked up in time to see their little sister skidding to a halt waving her arms trying to stay balanced on the edge of the drop before she tumbled over, Raph moved quickly catching her before she could land on the ground seeing her eyes fly up to meet him with a small smile as he landed back on the ground feeling his face heat up when he saw her shirt had been pulled down “Raven what did we tell you about being careful? Did you recently grow a shell that can save you from breaking your back?” she grinned at Leo who moved closer to scold her nuzzling closer to Raph 

“I was in a hurry to get back before you guys. Besides I think I landed that perfectly” the sarcasm in that one statement instantly had Raphael rolling his eyes laughing before she winked up at him; he looked at the others making sure nobody was staring at them setting her down quickly seeing the bag she had dropped on the ground that her was hurrying to gather up the colorful fabric from the floor stuffing them into the paper bag before bolting into the living room.

They watched as she set her stuff on the couch before her and April started finishing with the tree, the guys all retired to their rooms after a few minutes of looking around, Raphael and Casey passed out on the couch watching some show that was playing

~ ~ ~ 

Raphael shifted waking up to the sweetest sounding alarm of Raven’s giggling, looking up to see her and April laughing hysterically snapping a picture of Casey who was passed out next to him on the couch and was now sporting an array of bows on his head with two placed perfectly on his buff chest.

He couldn’t help but smile when the girls realized they had been caught grinning at him before they ran off towards the kitchen hiding as Casey stirred looking around for a moment before getting up to head for the bathroom.

He started to get up when he saw the blanket he had made Raven wrapped around him to keep him warm deciding to sit there for a bit longer until he glanced around seeing they had finished decorating while he was knocked out and an assortment of colorfully wrapped packages under the tree

“Why did ya destroy the lair? We already told Mikey he couldn’t do this kid”

Raven’s face appeared next to him looking a little sad as she glanced around; he didn’t like seeing her upset and instantly softened the look on his face so she might think he was just teasing her “You don’t like it? This is the first year I get to do it for our family Christmas Eve party and I wanted it to be a surprise. Besides I asked dad and he said it was fine as long as I didn’t touch the dojo or the ha’shi... and left your rooms alone”

Leo walked down the stairs looking around smiling when he saw the colorings that were randomly placed around the den “Looks great Raven, you and April really outdone yourselves” the teen beamed as Mikey and Donnie made it down stairs more or less awake and just in time for Casey to walk through the den again causing her brothers to burst into laughter seeing the lair wasn’t the only thing the girls had decorated, April jumped in next to him as he flexed for a final picture before he was removing most of the bows leaving the ones on his chest before she was handing them each a hot chocolate made the way they liked

He had to admit it did look good even if it was slightly over done in his opinion but he couldn’t tell her that, they were all admiring the tree that was now fully decorated other than the angel which Raven needed a lift to reach, he was more than happy to help when she glanced over at him pointing for some assistance, giggling when he tickled her side.

He couldn’t help but notice how happy she seemed to be the rest of the day

She was heading for the kitchen a few hours later before Mikey burst into laughter shoving Raven closer to Leonardo making her trip falling against their older brother as he caught her wrapping his arms around the teen’s waist to steady her “Kiss it up brah. Mistletoe rule says whoever is caught under it has to kiss the girl” the blue masked turtle looked above them with a sour face not to amused with his baby brother’s mischievous antics

“Really! I thought I took all of those down. Where do you keep getting this crap-?”

Raven glanced up at Leonardo who rolled his eyes about to say something more before she tapped him on the shoulder leaning up on the tips of her toes pulling his face down to her giving him a quick kiss on the cheek beaming when Mikey groaned calling them party poopers knowing that would hold him off for a bit while Raven got dinner ready and Raphael got some piece and quiet to get caught up on the football game; but for some reason he was feeling a small bit of anger that Leo got a kiss from the teen before shaking the thought away flipping to the channel the game was on

He was enjoying the quiet and the new aroma of food that filled their home before Raven was leaning over the couch waving a beer in front of his face and setting down a bowl of snacks next to him

“Thanks kid, wanna watch the game with me? It’s getting good” his heart jumped as she gave him one of those grins telling him in a minute when she got done before returning to the kitchen.

He was still hanging onto that smile when it was interrupted as Mikey cornered April and Casey under another patch of mistletoe, it ended in her walking off after Mikey offered to take Casey’s place.

It wasn’t long after that he heard a commotion behind him “Get away!” he turned to see Casey stealing a fast kiss from both Raven and April getting a high pitched squeal from the shocked teen before he was running jumping over the couch ducking as one of the throwing star decorations whizzed past his head sticking into the wooden entertainment center a few inched from Casey’s head as Raven growled crushing the bunch of paper towels in her clenched fist “Jones you ever kiss me again and I’ll beat you black and blue – and next time I won’t miss”

He saw the human man duck down shaking his head “Danm she’s scary” the turtle had started to say something when he caught a glimpse of the small amount of pink that crossed over her cheeks when her eyes met his seeing the nervous look as she walked off before he leaned forward keeping his voice low  growling under his breathwith his warni

“Ya touch 'er again Jones she won’t be the one ta beat ya to death“

Raphael was about to turn back around seeing his words had the human man when he saw Mikey sneaking up behind their little sister who was busy mixing several bowls of what he could only guess was cookie dough and brownie mix hearing her shriek as he snatched her up placing the bowl on the table “Mikey stop... let me down I’ve got food in the oven I have to check”

“I’ll put you down in a minute baby girl”

His younger brother grinned pointing up to yet another bundle of the annoying plant he had strategically placed throughout the place, he had to look away as she smiled shaking her head slowly leaned forward giggling giving him a small kiss on the cheek like she had done to Leonardo hearing Mikey groan “Aww come on babe that’s all your gonna give the turtle of your dreams!”

“Mike – if you wanna eat tonight I have to cook” he sat the teen on the floor sulking away and again he felt that pang of jealousy that another person had gotten a kiss from the beautiful teen before he ever realized the thought was there again, he checked above him making sure there was nothing over his seat before becoming focused on the game once more.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“You’re next Donnie”

he should have known the silence wouldn’t have lasted as another 

“Mikey this is ridiculous. Do you have any idea how many germs are spread in one kiss? A ten-second French kiss can spread 80 million bacteria between mouths”

“Dude it’s not that bad brah. Besides you’re not French kissing anyone since none of you are any fun” they all rolled their eyes trying to ignore Mikey as he walked off heading to his room “All of you are ruining all my fun”

Raven brought a plate of fresh cookies over to the couch where April and Casey had joined Raphael to watch the game looking nervous as Mikey strode into the room looking to see where everyone was waiting until the teen was focused on the play for just a second running up planting a kiss on Raven’s cheek making her fall over the couch landing on the floor when she had become startled.

She laid there for a while looking up at the ceiling seeming absolutely exhausted; her colorful apron covered in flour and chocolate “Raven if you want I can start helping again. You look like you could use a break” she was smiling again trying not to say a word

April leaned forward but the massive turtle was already up kneeling beside her, helping the kid up seeing she was worn out and looked to have not gone to bed yet as she rolled over glaring up at Mikey who bolted for the kitchen

“Mikey, stay out of there! Don’t touch the cookies on the counter - No Mikey!” she was already on her feet jumping over the couch her fingers brushing his shoulder lightly chasing after the youngest turtle before he bolted into the kitchen laughing as he stole a tray of cookies jumping over the table stopping to make sure she was on his heels, she lost her footing tripping over something on the ground before she was tumbling across the concrete suddenly falling down on the floor crying out making them all jump

“Hey you okay” she looked up fast nodding desperately trying to hide her anger

Donnie kneeled down looking at her leg where blood was staining the edge of her pants “It’s just a scratch, I’ll be fine” Mikey grinned when she looked up at him mumbling something under her breath that didn’t reach Raphael’s ears before looking above her and Donatello tapping him on the arm catching his attention

Raphael couldn’t help but see the blush that spread over his genius brothers cheeks as he looked up seeing they were stuck under a patch of the annoying plant looking back at her rambling through his words suddenly

“D-Did you know that mistletoe is relevant to several cultures. It is associated with our Western Christmas as a decoration, under which lovers are expected to kiss. Mistletoe also played an important role in Druidic mythology in the Ritual of Oak and Mistletoe.

In Norse Mythology, Loki tricked the blind god Hodur into murdering Balder with an arrow made of Mistletoe, being the only plant to which Balder was vulnerable too. Some versions of the story have mistletoe becoming a symbol of peace and friendship to compensate for its part in the murder.

Mistletoe was associated with fertility and vitality through the Middle Ages, and by the 18th century it had also become incorporated into Christmas celebrations around the world. The custom of kissing under the mistletoe is from the late 18th century in England where: the serving class of Victorian England is credited with perpetuating the tradition. The tradition dictated that a man was allowed to kiss any woman standing underneath mistletoe, and that bad luck would befall any woman who refused the kiss. One variation on the tradition stated that with each kiss a berry was to be plucked from the mistletoe, and the kissing must stop after all the berries had been removed...”

Raven groaned loudly throwing herself back on the floor "NOW LOOK WHAT YOU DID MIKEY - YOU BROKE DONNIE!!! NOW HIS BRAIN’S GOING TO FRY OUT” 

Donnie had lost most of them close to the beginning of what he had been saying since he was talking so fast, sitting up after a while she leaned forward kissing his cheek silencing him in the middle of his rant before picking herself off the floor with a small grin that looked forced snatching the tray of cookies from her brother punching him in the arm hard enough he actually flinched before she was storming into the kitchen

It had been fun but now he had irritated her even though she was trying so hard to keep a smile on her face; not to mention if Raphael had to watch her kiss one more person he was going to knock the green off Mikey for her

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Raphael can you come help me with something”

Hearing his name made him perk up before he jumped over the couch when the game went to half time hearing the once again cheerful voice beckoning him to her like a bug to a light, he gladly lumbered into the kitchen seeing her brushing the loose strands of hair out of her face turning with a smile blowing on a brownie in her hand lifting herself up on the counter holding it out, he smiled stepping closer taking it from her hand chewing slowly.

He loved the brownies she made for every holiday, birthday, or any special occasion that gave her a reason to cook them “How are they? Made them just for you”

“Awesome as always”

She grinned at him as it crossed his mind that not only did she look dressed up more than usual she smelled really good, he watched her grab another from the plate they were cooling on waving it playfully at him before leaned in giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek and taking it quickly seeming amused by the way her cheeks turned a light rosy color when his tongue brushed her fingers licking off the melted chocolate

He had started to step back before she glanced up smiling grabbing the straps across his chest plate carefully holding him in place with ease “Hey Raph?” his eyes followed hers freezing when he saw what had caught her attention right above them was a huge bundle of mistletoe tied together with a big red bow

“MIKEY YA LIL’-!!!”

His words froze in his mouth as she giggled loudly shaking her head fast “That wasn’t Mikey this time Raph. Why would Mikey have lured you in here with a plate full of your favorite brownies and a pretty girl under that crap just so she could kiss you?”

He looked at her before she leaned over grabbing his hand pulling him closer until they were literally inches apart, his heart thundered away in his chest racing faster than ever “Raphael-” she closed the space between them pressing her lips to his gently holding them against his.

Raphael froze telling himself that couldn’t be happening that it was some torturous dream fucking with his mind but when she pulled back it was all too real; Raven had just kissed him on the lips instead of one of the cheek kisses she was giving everyone else.

She had planted some of that god awful plant in the kitchen then called him to her. It was all too perfect. He had to be dreaming

“Sorry I thought I’d actually give it a try since Mikey has been abusing it today”

There was the look he had wanted to see all night, her deep emerald green eyes were sparkling brightly at him and this time he was pulled towards her, wanting nothing more than to have her soft pink lips pressed firmly against his own once more, his finger went under her chin as one of her tiny hands traced its way up his chest plate “Sorry I had to trick you-” she didn’t see it coming; before she knew what happened his lips were over hers firmly taking her by surprise pulling away for a second not feeling the eyes that were staring at them from the doorway

“I don’t mind one damn bit kid“

She was quick to return to the kiss cupping his cheek in a tiny hand as she lured him back grinning before her lips were pressed on his but this time her tongue brushed over his bottom lip inviting him in; he took the invitation gladly opening his mouth over hers entwining his tongue with hers groaning as it softly brushed over his filling his mouth with the intoxicating sweet taste that was coming from hers, his fingers tangled in her soft hair holding her face gently in his huge hands as the bite of her nails into his shoulders propelled him further, he slid his hands down her body until they were resting on her hips feeling her arms slid around his neck holding him against her loving the way her breast were pushed against his chest.

Slowly he felt her arms tighten around his neck as her fingers brushed over the sensitive skin that connected just under his shell feeling a small nip to his bottom lip that made him pull back before grinning down on her devouring her smooth mouth with his returning the love bite feeling her grip tightening on him as the kiss started to slow becoming even sweeter then he could have ever imagined

There was nothing in the world that could ruin this moment as her body pressed deliciously against his again never wanting that moment to end

“OH MY GOD!!!! Dude that is epic”

“WHAT! Woah way to go Raphie boy”

“Aww”

Aw was right. Aww Fuck!

He opened his eyes to see their entire family standing in the doorway watching them looking between surprised and shocked even though they were all grinning, he was expecting her to push him away or pull back but instead she held tighter even tilting her head to the side making the kiss deeper, one of her hands slid up his neck until it was resting on his skull making goosebumps prickle over his skin as his eyes slid shut again grinning against her lips as she continued to kiss him letting it ended sweetly still holding tight to him long after their lips had parted.

She slowly pulled away grinning brightly up at him looking back over her shoulder when he returned her smile “Brah baby girl finally decided to loosen up and have some fun!”

Raphael glared over at him growling under his breath “Mikey…”

He stopped feeling a soft hand on his chest looking down to a pair of emerald green orbs seeing a playfulness enter her eyes before she shifted looking over her shoulder “That - is how you kiss under the mistletoe Mikey”

Raven bragged proudly as she wrapped an arm around Raphael’s built shoulders and pulled him flush against her body for one last quick peck on the lips giggling as he nuzzled his face against hers.

Raphael still couldn’t believe it.

She kissed him and wasn’t embarrassed to continue even after they had got caught by everyone thanks to his outburst towards Michelangelo.

Splinter had broken it up telling them to disperse but there was a small gleam in his eyes when he looked down at Raven who went back to finishing up dinner seeming even more cheerful then he had ever seen her in his lifetime if that was even possible for the teen.

He stole small looks at her making sure he wasn’t seen by Casey or his brothers smiling like a fool as she went about the lair setting the table up humming happily 

Maybe these holidays wouldn’t be all that bad

[jesusvasser]

Traversing the Country in Our Four Seasons 2017 BMW M2

On a sunny Saturday morning in Howell, Michigan, I entered my next destination into our Four Seasons 2017 BMW M2’s navigation system: a Holiday Inn Express in Des Moines, Iowa, a bit more than 500 miles from where the car currently sat, humming an impatient idle. It was ready to hit the road and so was I, with a supply of caffeine in the back seat ample enough to keep a small child up for days on end, a Spotify account to keep me entertained through thousands of miles of featureless farmland, and the M2’s 360-hp turbocharged straight-six engine constantly willing to park my butt in a rural jail for flagrant disregard for speed limits. Should be a fun trip, in other words.

Residents of either coast love to write off Michigan and cast doubting shadows on its struggles to return to a prosperous existence, but as I head for the western state line, I’m reminded of the wonderful time I had over the previous few days. From the picturesque, wooded recluse of Howell, to Kalamazoo, still rich with its guitar-building history, to the numerous automotive museums around the greater Detroit area, Michigan has much to discover.

Nevertheless, this initial stretch of the 2,500-mile jaunt home to Los Angeles is fairly blasé. Interstate 90 takes me through the northwest tip of Indiana, then across Illinois, just south of Chicago and Lake Michigan. Unexpected are the first signs of construction, with whole lanes blocked off for repaving and speed limits dropped by 20 mph or more from normal, but not a whole lot of work actually seeming to happen—a theme that would be continued throughout the trip.

The M2’s trunk is packed with photo and video gear, while the rear seat holds my laptop bag, a single roll-aboard packed with a week’s worth of clothes, and several boxes full of Automobile and Motor Trend back issues—a gift from our Michigan office as we rebuild the archves at our Los Angeles office following its recent floor-to-ceiling renovation. There’s still plenty of room in the car for me to feel comfortable and the M2 never struggles with the extra load—it’s eager to go all the time.

I-90 gives way to the less-interesting, arrow-straight I-80, and the first night’s stop is in Des Moines. I’m back on the road a little after 7 am, heading towards Sterling, Colorado. I’ve got the entire state of Nebraska to contend with and before long, the M2 noses into the state and finds itself traipsing through a traffic-clogged Omaha. The M2’s dual-clutch gearbox (a $2,900 option) makes traffic a breeze, but it’s not perfect in its operation. Especially when cold, the transmission’s response moving away from a stop can be lazy, with longer than expected periods of clutch slippage followed by abrupt take-up and the resulting jerk forward. It’s an inconvenience more than a serious issue, but I can’t help but think I’d just save myself the hassle—and the $3k—and spec the standard manual gearbox.

The rest of Nebraska is featureless and uneventful, with straight interstate, lots of farmland on both sides, and the occasional wind farm to boot. The M2’s satellite radio and Spotify are my primary sources of entertainment and my voice is becoming hoarse from singing along over not just the radio, but also over the noise of the M2’s rubber-band-like 19-inch tires (245/35 front, 265/35 rear). Excess road noise and a little bit of harshness over sharper bumps are the car’s main faults in grand touring–style driving and both appear to be largely to do with the narrow sidewalls. After another eight hours on the road, I veer onto I-76 and shortly after, find the small town of Sterling, Colorado. There’s a cute historic downtown area, though it’s sparsely populated, and just beyond that, a Union Pacific train station. Fast food for dinner isn’t ideal, but it’s about 95% of what Sterling appears to offer and the M2 spends the evening resting in the parking lot of a newly built Holiday Inn Express–evidence that this town is a popular rest stop.

Day three dawns and I have high hopes of some exciting scenery for the first time on this trip. Before hitting the hay the night before, I plotted a course that would take me around the south of Denver, through Colorado Springs and on to Pike’s Peak—the mountain famous for its big elevation (14,115 ft) and the annual hill climb race that bears its name. The day’s driving goes largely to plan, with wide-open plains leading the way to Denver and my first view of the Rocky Mountain range behind the city. After a quick stop in Colorado Springs to check on a family-owned rental property, I made my way to the Pike’s Peak toll booth. The sunshine I had going through Denver has turned to dark skies and light rain by the time I pay the $15 toll and start making my way up the mountain’s sinuous, 19-mile road. It’s been a couple decades since I was here last while on a family vacation as a child and now, of course, the entirety of the road is paved—a response to environmental concerns about the amount of loose soil that used to be kicked off the sides of the old partial-dirt roadway.

The speed limit up the mountain is low—just 15 mph or so—and there’s plenty of traffic, even in the damp conditions. Occasionally, slow traffic will pull over whether out of courtesy or just to do some sightseeing, but it’s still a crawl for most of the drive, as expected. Rarely, I get the chance to pick up the pace and string a few corners together, the M2’s straight-six bark reverberating off the mountainside and the snap-crackle-pop downshifts trailing off into the very thin air. The M2 is the perfect size for this road, and I wish I had this little ribbon of asphalt all to myself. By the time I reach the summit, over an hour has passed.

Stepping out of the car, I’m greeted by air with just 60 percent of the oxygen content at sea level and it feels like it. The slight light-headedness wears off quickly and I buy a decal at the gift shop and a hot cup of coffee before heading back down the mountain, keeping the car mostly in second gear to avoid cooking the brakes. A mandatory inspection station is set up a few miles down the road from the summit, where attendants stop each and every car to check brake temps with an infrared thermometer gun and issue warnings where necessary.

I make it to the mountain’s base and set off west for Grand Junction, Colorado for the evening, by way of the 24 and 9 highways through such scenic ski towns as Breckenridge. The smaller highways blends into the scenic I-70, which follows the winding Eagle River to the western edge of Colorado and my stop for the night. The M2 is a blast to drive through this undulating section of mostly high-speed sweepers and we make good time as the weather clears to sunshine once again. The weather is in a constant state of flux in the Rockies. It’s a long day on the road with the Pike’s Peak excursion – I’ve been in the car nearly 12 hours by the time I’m eating dinner in Grand Junction before settling in for the evening.

I’m back on the road early the next day for the last big leg of the trip, 500 miles to Las Vegas, Nevada. From there, it’ll just be four or five hours of desert highway on the way home to Los Angeles. The scenery continues to impress as I plod across Utah and a small corner of Arizona along the I-15. Though I’m not at the right trajectory to pass through Monument Valley, the red rocks and bold cliff faces outside Zion National Park are stunning and I stop several times for a better look and some photographs. The environment, combined with the relative isolation of a solo cross country road trip is refreshing—a thankful reprieve from a daily life filled with computer monitors, cell phone screens, and the constant, tiring churn of city life.

Before long, that all fades as the bright lights of Las Vegas come into view. The M2 is parked safely in the garage at the Treasure Island hotel and casino and I check into my room and decide on plans for the night. The Who are playing at Caesar’s Palace, a short walk down the Las Vegas Strip and a quick StubHub.com search reveals good tickets for under face value. The Who aren’t spring chickens any longer, but the show is surprisingly energetic. In any case, a couple beers and a great concert are amazing rewards for nearly 2,000 miles of driving over the last several days.

In the morning, the M2 feels refreshed too and bursts to life with its staccato brap! filling the garage with echoes of exhaust noise. It’s a straight shot to L.A., where the BMW and I arrive by early afternoon. The car is filthy and I’ll wash it over the weekend by hand in my driveway. Best to savor these moments alone with one of BMW’s best cars of late, before the rest of the staff gets to it.

Our 2017 BMW M2

MILES TO DATE 22,304 PRICE $57,545 ENGINE 3.0L DOHC turbocharged 24-valve I-6/365 hp @ 6,500 rpm, 343 lb-ft @ 1,400-5,560 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 4-passenger, front-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE 20/26 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 176.2 x 73.0 x 55.5 in WHEELBASE 106.0 in WEIGHT 3,505 lb 0-60 MPH 4.2 sec TOP SPEED 155 mph

[jonathanbelloblog]

Traversing the Country in Our Four Seasons 2017 BMW M2

On a sunny Saturday morning in Howell, Michigan, I entered my next destination into our Four Seasons 2017 BMW M2’s navigation system: a Holiday Inn Express in Des Moines, Iowa, a bit more than 500 miles from where the car currently sat, humming an impatient idle. It was ready to hit the road and so was I, with a supply of caffeine in the back seat ample enough to keep a small child up for days on end, a Spotify account to keep me entertained through thousands of miles of featureless farmland, and the M2’s 360-hp turbocharged straight-six engine constantly willing to park my butt in a rural jail for flagrant disregard for speed limits. Should be a fun trip, in other words.

Residents of either coast love to write off Michigan and cast doubting shadows on its struggles to return to a prosperous existence, but as I head for the western state line, I’m reminded of the wonderful time I had over the previous few days. From the picturesque, wooded recluse of Howell, to Kalamazoo, still rich with its guitar-building history, to the numerous automotive museums around the greater Detroit area, Michigan has much to discover.

Nevertheless, this initial stretch of the 2,500-mile jaunt home to Los Angeles is fairly blasé. Interstate 90 takes me through the northwest tip of Indiana, then across Illinois, just south of Chicago and Lake Michigan. Unexpected are the first signs of construction, with whole lanes blocked off for repaving and speed limits dropped by 20 mph or more from normal, but not a whole lot of work actually seeming to happen—a theme that would be continued throughout the trip.

The M2’s trunk is packed with photo and video gear, while the rear seat holds my laptop bag, a single roll-aboard packed with a week’s worth of clothes, and several boxes full of Automobile and Motor Trend back issues—a gift from our Michigan office as we rebuild the archves at our Los Angeles office following its recent floor-to-ceiling renovation. There’s still plenty of room in the car for me to feel comfortable and the M2 never struggles with the extra load—it’s eager to go all the time.

I-90 gives way to the less-interesting, arrow-straight I-80, and the first night’s stop is in Des Moines. I’m back on the road a little after 7 am, heading towards Sterling, Colorado. I’ve got the entire state of Nebraska to contend with and before long, the M2 noses into the state and finds itself traipsing through a traffic-clogged Omaha. The M2’s dual-clutch gearbox (a $2,900 option) makes traffic a breeze, but it’s not perfect in its operation. Especially when cold, the transmission’s response moving away from a stop can be lazy, with longer than expected periods of clutch slippage followed by abrupt take-up and the resulting jerk forward. It’s an inconvenience more than a serious issue, but I can’t help but think I’d just save myself the hassle—and the $3k—and spec the standard manual gearbox.

The rest of Nebraska is featureless and uneventful, with straight interstate, lots of farmland on both sides, and the occasional wind farm to boot. The M2’s satellite radio and Spotify are my primary sources of entertainment and my voice is becoming hoarse from singing along over not just the radio, but also over the noise of the M2’s rubber-band-like 19-inch tires (245/35 front, 265/35 rear). Excess road noise and a little bit of harshness over sharper bumps are the car’s main faults in grand touring–style driving and both appear to be largely to do with the narrow sidewalls. After another eight hours on the road, I veer onto I-76 and shortly after, find the small town of Sterling, Colorado. There’s a cute historic downtown area, though it’s sparsely populated, and just beyond that, a Union Pacific train station. Fast food for dinner isn’t ideal, but it’s about 95% of what Sterling appears to offer and the M2 spends the evening resting in the parking lot of a newly built Holiday Inn Express–evidence that this town is a popular rest stop.

Day three dawns and I have high hopes of some exciting scenery for the first time on this trip. Before hitting the hay the night before, I plotted a course that would take me around the south of Denver, through Colorado Springs and on to Pike’s Peak—the mountain famous for its big elevation (14,115 ft) and the annual hill climb race that bears its name. The day’s driving goes largely to plan, with wide-open plains leading the way to Denver and my first view of the Rocky Mountain range behind the city. After a quick stop in Colorado Springs to check on a family-owned rental property, I made my way to the Pike’s Peak toll booth. The sunshine I had going through Denver has turned to dark skies and light rain by the time I pay the $15 toll and start making my way up the mountain’s sinuous, 19-mile road. It’s been a couple decades since I was here last while on a family vacation as a child and now, of course, the entirety of the road is paved—a response to environmental concerns about the amount of loose soil that used to be kicked off the sides of the old partial-dirt roadway.

The speed limit up the mountain is low—just 15 mph or so—and there’s plenty of traffic, even in the damp conditions. Occasionally, slow traffic will pull over whether out of courtesy or just to do some sightseeing, but it’s still a crawl for most of the drive, as expected. Rarely, I get the chance to pick up the pace and string a few corners together, the M2’s straight-six bark reverberating off the mountainside and the snap-crackle-pop downshifts trailing off into the very thin air. The M2 is the perfect size for this road, and I wish I had this little ribbon of asphalt all to myself. By the time I reach the summit, over an hour has passed.

Stepping out of the car, I’m greeted by air with just 60 percent of the oxygen content at sea level and it feels like it. The slight light-headedness wears off quickly and I buy a decal at the gift shop and a hot cup of coffee before heading back down the mountain, keeping the car mostly in second gear to avoid cooking the brakes. A mandatory inspection station is set up a few miles down the road from the summit, where attendants stop each and every car to check brake temps with an infrared thermometer gun and issue warnings where necessary.

I make it to the mountain’s base and set off west for Grand Junction, Colorado for the evening, by way of the 24 and 9 highways through such scenic ski towns as Breckenridge. The smaller highways blends into the scenic I-70, which follows the winding Eagle River to the western edge of Colorado and my stop for the night. The M2 is a blast to drive through this undulating section of mostly high-speed sweepers and we make good time as the weather clears to sunshine once again. The weather is in a constant state of flux in the Rockies. It’s a long day on the road with the Pike’s Peak excursion – I’ve been in the car nearly 12 hours by the time I’m eating dinner in Grand Junction before settling in for the evening.

I’m back on the road early the next day for the last big leg of the trip, 500 miles to Las Vegas, Nevada. From there, it’ll just be four or five hours of desert highway on the way home to Los Angeles. The scenery continues to impress as I plod across Utah and a small corner of Arizona along the I-15. Though I’m not at the right trajectory to pass through Monument Valley, the red rocks and bold cliff faces outside Zion National Park are stunning and I stop several times for a better look and some photographs. The environment, combined with the relative isolation of a solo cross country road trip is refreshing—a thankful reprieve from a daily life filled with computer monitors, cell phone screens, and the constant, tiring churn of city life.

Before long, that all fades as the bright lights of Las Vegas come into view. The M2 is parked safely in the garage at the Treasure Island hotel and casino and I check into my room and decide on plans for the night. The Who are playing at Caesar’s Palace, a short walk down the Las Vegas Strip and a quick StubHub.com search reveals good tickets for under face value. The Who aren’t spring chickens any longer, but the show is surprisingly energetic. In any case, a couple beers and a great concert are amazing rewards for nearly 2,000 miles of driving over the last several days.

In the morning, the M2 feels refreshed too and bursts to life with its staccato brap! filling the garage with echoes of exhaust noise. It’s a straight shot to L.A., where the BMW and I arrive by early afternoon. The car is filthy and I’ll wash it over the weekend by hand in my driveway. Best to savor these moments alone with one of BMW’s best cars of late, before the rest of the staff gets to it.

Our 2017 BMW M2

MILES TO DATE 22,304 PRICE $57,545 ENGINE 3.0L DOHC turbocharged 24-valve I-6/365 hp @ 6,500 rpm, 343 lb-ft @ 1,400-5,560 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 4-passenger, front-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE 20/26 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 176.2 x 73.0 x 55.5 in WHEELBASE 106.0 in WEIGHT 3,505 lb 0-60 MPH 4.2 sec TOP SPEED 155 mph

[eddiejpoplar]

Traversing the Country in Our Four Seasons 2017 BMW M2

On a sunny Saturday morning in Howell, Michigan, I entered my next destination into our Four Seasons 2017 BMW M2’s navigation system: a Holiday Inn Express in Des Moines, Iowa, a bit more than 500 miles from where the car currently sat, humming an impatient idle. It was ready to hit the road and so was I, with a supply of caffeine in the back seat ample enough to keep a small child up for days on end, a Spotify account to keep me entertained through thousands of miles of featureless farmland, and the M2’s 360-hp turbocharged straight-six engine constantly willing to park my butt in a rural jail for flagrant disregard for speed limits. Should be a fun trip, in other words.

Residents of either coast love to write off Michigan and cast doubting shadows on its struggles to return to a prosperous existence, but as I head for the western state line, I’m reminded of the wonderful time I had over the previous few days. From the picturesque, wooded recluse of Howell, to Kalamazoo, still rich with its guitar-building history, to the numerous automotive museums around the greater Detroit area, Michigan has much to discover.

Nevertheless, this initial stretch of the 2,500-mile jaunt home to Los Angeles is fairly blasé. Interstate 90 takes me through the northwest tip of Indiana, then across Illinois, just south of Chicago and Lake Michigan. Unexpected are the first signs of construction, with whole lanes blocked off for repaving and speed limits dropped by 20 mph or more from normal, but not a whole lot of work actually seeming to happen—a theme that would be continued throughout the trip.

The M2’s trunk is packed with photo and video gear, while the rear seat holds my laptop bag, a single roll-aboard packed with a week’s worth of clothes, and several boxes full of Automobile and Motor Trend back issues—a gift from our Michigan office as we rebuild the archves at our Los Angeles office following its recent floor-to-ceiling renovation. There’s still plenty of room in the car for me to feel comfortable and the M2 never struggles with the extra load—it’s eager to go all the time.

I-90 gives way to the less-interesting, arrow-straight I-80, and the first night’s stop is in Des Moines. I’m back on the road a little after 7 am, heading towards Sterling, Colorado. I’ve got the entire state of Nebraska to contend with and before long, the M2 noses into the state and finds itself traipsing through a traffic-clogged Omaha. The M2’s dual-clutch gearbox (a $2,900 option) makes traffic a breeze, but it’s not perfect in its operation. Especially when cold, the transmission’s response moving away from a stop can be lazy, with longer than expected periods of clutch slippage followed by abrupt take-up and the resulting jerk forward. It’s an inconvenience more than a serious issue, but I can’t help but think I’d just save myself the hassle—and the $3k—and spec the standard manual gearbox.

The rest of Nebraska is featureless and uneventful, with straight interstate, lots of farmland on both sides, and the occasional wind farm to boot. The M2’s satellite radio and Spotify are my primary sources of entertainment and my voice is becoming hoarse from singing along over not just the radio, but also over the noise of the M2’s rubber-band-like 19-inch tires (245/35 front, 265/35 rear). Excess road noise and a little bit of harshness over sharper bumps are the car’s main faults in grand touring–style driving and both appear to be largely to do with the narrow sidewalls. After another eight hours on the road, I veer onto I-76 and shortly after, find the small town of Sterling, Colorado. There’s a cute historic downtown area, though it’s sparsely populated, and just beyond that, a Union Pacific train station. Fast food for dinner isn’t ideal, but it’s about 95% of what Sterling appears to offer and the M2 spends the evening resting in the parking lot of a newly built Holiday Inn Express–evidence that this town is a popular rest stop.

Day three dawns and I have high hopes of some exciting scenery for the first time on this trip. Before hitting the hay the night before, I plotted a course that would take me around the south of Denver, through Colorado Springs and on to Pike’s Peak—the mountain famous for its big elevation (14,115 ft) and the annual hill climb race that bears its name. The day’s driving goes largely to plan, with wide-open plains leading the way to Denver and my first view of the Rocky Mountain range behind the city. After a quick stop in Colorado Springs to check on a family-owned rental property, I made my way to the Pike’s Peak toll booth. The sunshine I had going through Denver has turned to dark skies and light rain by the time I pay the $15 toll and start making my way up the mountain’s sinuous, 19-mile road. It’s been a couple decades since I was here last while on a family vacation as a child and now, of course, the entirety of the road is paved—a response to environmental concerns about the amount of loose soil that used to be kicked off the sides of the old partial-dirt roadway.

The speed limit up the mountain is low—just 15 mph or so—and there’s plenty of traffic, even in the damp conditions. Occasionally, slow traffic will pull over whether out of courtesy or just to do some sightseeing, but it’s still a crawl for most of the drive, as expected. Rarely, I get the chance to pick up the pace and string a few corners together, the M2’s straight-six bark reverberating off the mountainside and the snap-crackle-pop downshifts trailing off into the very thin air. The M2 is the perfect size for this road, and I wish I had this little ribbon of asphalt all to myself. By the time I reach the summit, over an hour has passed.

Stepping out of the car, I’m greeted by air with just 60 percent of the oxygen content at sea level and it feels like it. The slight light-headedness wears off quickly and I buy a decal at the gift shop and a hot cup of coffee before heading back down the mountain, keeping the car mostly in second gear to avoid cooking the brakes. A mandatory inspection station is set up a few miles down the road from the summit, where attendants stop each and every car to check brake temps with an infrared thermometer gun and issue warnings where necessary.

I make it to the mountain’s base and set off west for Grand Junction, Colorado for the evening, by way of the 24 and 9 highways through such scenic ski towns as Breckenridge. The smaller highways blends into the scenic I-70, which follows the winding Eagle River to the western edge of Colorado and my stop for the night. The M2 is a blast to drive through this undulating section of mostly high-speed sweepers and we make good time as the weather clears to sunshine once again. The weather is in a constant state of flux in the Rockies. It’s a long day on the road with the Pike’s Peak excursion – I’ve been in the car nearly 12 hours by the time I’m eating dinner in Grand Junction before settling in for the evening.

I’m back on the road early the next day for the last big leg of the trip, 500 miles to Las Vegas, Nevada. From there, it’ll just be four or five hours of desert highway on the way home to Los Angeles. The scenery continues to impress as I plod across Utah and a small corner of Arizona along the I-15. Though I’m not at the right trajectory to pass through Monument Valley, the red rocks and bold cliff faces outside Zion National Park are stunning and I stop several times for a better look and some photographs. The environment, combined with the relative isolation of a solo cross country road trip is refreshing—a thankful reprieve from a daily life filled with computer monitors, cell phone screens, and the constant, tiring churn of city life.

Before long, that all fades as the bright lights of Las Vegas come into view. The M2 is parked safely in the garage at the Treasure Island hotel and casino and I check into my room and decide on plans for the night. The Who are playing at Caesar’s Palace, a short walk down the Las Vegas Strip and a quick StubHub.com search reveals good tickets for under face value. The Who aren’t spring chickens any longer, but the show is surprisingly energetic. In any case, a couple beers and a great concert are amazing rewards for nearly 2,000 miles of driving over the last several days.

In the morning, the M2 feels refreshed too and bursts to life with its staccato brap! filling the garage with echoes of exhaust noise. It’s a straight shot to L.A., where the BMW and I arrive by early afternoon. The car is filthy and I’ll wash it over the weekend by hand in my driveway. Best to savor these moments alone with one of BMW’s best cars of late, before the rest of the staff gets to it.

Our 2017 BMW M2

MILES TO DATE 22,304 PRICE $57,545 ENGINE 3.0L DOHC turbocharged 24-valve I-6/365 hp @ 6,500 rpm, 343 lb-ft @ 1,400-5,560 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 4-passenger, front-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE 20/26 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 176.2 x 73.0 x 55.5 in WHEELBASE 106.0 in WEIGHT 3,505 lb 0-60 MPH 4.2 sec TOP SPEED 155 mph

[glittership]

Episode #35 — "Cooking with Closed Mouths" by Kerry Truong

Download this episode (right click and save) And here’s the RSS feed: http://glittership.podbean.com/feed/

Cooking with Closed Mouths

by Kerry Truong

A gumiho could run faster than shadows spread, but since Ha Neul doubted that Americans would take kindly to a nine-tailed fox streaking down Los Angeles’ busy streets, they opted to walk to the bus stop in the falling darkness after work.

The cool night air was a relief after the hot confines of Mrs. Chang’s restaurant, where Ha Neul had spent the day carrying heavy dishes and enduring customers’ complaints. Mrs. Chang’s mediocre food attracted few customers, and her refusal to use air conditioning made those who did come disinclined to be generous. Ha Neul never told her this, of course, because what was the point of trying to change people’s ways? For this silence they were rewarded with meager wages and leftovers that turned to ashes in their mouth.

  Full transcript after the cut.

[Intro music plays]

Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip, episode 35 for March 22, 2017. This is your host, Keffy, and I’m super excited to be sharing this story with you.

Our story this week is a GlitterShip original: “Cooking with Closed Mouths” by Kerry Truong.

Kerry Truong writes about many things, including folktale and horror. Their hobbies are futilely trying to train their dogs; tearing their hair out while reading comics; and eating good food. They like their meat rare, and if a story doesn’t mention food at least once, it wasn’t written by them. You can follow their queer firebreathing on Twitter @springbamboos.

We also have a guest reader!

R Chang hails from a small valley on the West coast, where they moonlight as an artist. Their dearest wish in life is to quit their day job and establish a farm for dogs.

  Cooking with Closed Mouths

by Kerry Truong

  A gumiho could run faster than shadows spread, but since Ha Neul doubted that Americans would take kindly to a nine-tailed fox streaking down Los Angeles’ busy streets, they opted to walk to the bus stop in the falling darkness after work.

The cool night air was a relief after the hot confines of Mrs. Chang’s restaurant, where Ha Neul had spent the day carrying heavy dishes and enduring customers’ complaints. Mrs. Chang’s mediocre food attracted few customers, and her refusal to use air conditioning made those who did come disinclined to be generous. Ha Neul never told her this, of course, because what was the point of trying to change people’s ways? For this silence they were rewarded with meager wages and leftovers that turned to ashes in their mouth.

Today was no different. After mediating between Mrs. Chang and angry customers, Ha Neul was finally left in peace, a bag of banchan the only payment for their troubles. They stood at the bus stop in a crowd of other commuters, careful to remain at the edges where they could go unnoticed but still hear the conversations around them. There was chatter about everything from peace in Viet Nam to some boxing championship or another. Ha Neul didn’t understand the voracious interest humans showed in things that would only fade from memory or repeat themselves in a matter of years. Still, they liked listening. There was something comforting about the way humans kept going, as full of energy as if they were the first to experience these things.

When the bus arrived, Ha Neul boarded in a stream of other passengers, shouldering their way through until they could find a place to stand. Proximity filled their nose with the tang of everyone around them and made their stomach clench. They ignored it, used to the hunger. Instead of thinking about it, they studied the people closest to them.

An older woman stood next to them in the aisle, her eyes drifting closed as if the lurch and stop of the bus were a lullaby. A pair of students on their other side consulted each other in urgent voices about what songs to put on a mixtape for a crush. Ha Neul listened with amusement. It must be nice, they thought, to be caught up in the rhythm of falling in and out of love; to hope over and over that warmth could be found in the clasp of another person’s hand.

  At home, Hana was waiting for them, her homework fanned out on the kitchen table. Their one-bedroom apartment was too small for a proper desk, and neither of them had much use for the kitchen’s traditional function, so Hana had claimed it as her study room. The table was often strewn with books and papers and half-chewed pens. Ha Neul had given up on putting the mess into any kind of order. No matter how hard they tried, the table would be cluttered again within the day.

Hana waved when they came in. “Took you long enough to get home! Did Mrs. Chang give you food again?”

Ha Neul nodded, searching for an empty spot to set the bag down. After a moment they gave up and simply handed it to Hana.

“All mine, and none for oppa,” she sang.

Ha Neul sat down next to her as she searched through the bag, their body heavy from exhaustion. They relaxed in the warmth of the kitchen, watching as Hana tasted each banchan in turn. She was eager to try them all, which was why Ha Neul always accepted Mrs. Chang’s leftovers. It didn’t matter if the food couldn’t make her full. It reminded her of home, of a life where she’d had family and people to belong to.

Ha Neul’s stomach clenched again. They went to the refrigerator and opened it. It was nearly empty, except for the large plastic bag dominating the center shelf and several plastic cartons arranged in neat rows beside it. Ha Neul brought the bag to the table.

“Oppa, don’t you dare get blood on my homework,” Hana said as they stacked books and papers to clear a space on the table.

“I would never sully the homework of a top student.”

Ha Neul took a package wrapped in butcher paper out of the bag and set it on the table. The paper was damp in spots, its white color stained pink by the blood that seeped through it. The tang that Ha Neul had smelled on the bus filled their nose again, this time richer and deeper. Hana stopped eating to watch, her eyes intent. She could smell the blood, too.

They unwrapped the paper to reveal hearts, kidneys, slices of liver, and other organ meats, raw and glistening. Ha Neul ate a heart, ripping the muscle with their sharp teeth. It was savory, satisfying them in a way Mrs. Chang’s food never could, making them crave for more. They reached for a piece of liver as soon as they’d finished the heart. It was good to be home.

Hana was still watching them. They thought they could see the hint of a fang beginning to protrude in the corner of her mouth, but when they offered her a kidney she waved it away. “I’m not into solid food.”

Ha Neul raised an eyebrow, looking at the banchan.

“That’s different. I eat that for fun, not to get full.”

“Can you really taste it?”

“A little. It’s really faint though, like when you have a cold and can only get an aftertaste.”

Ha Neul didn’t understand, having never had a cold. They nodded anyway. “Do you remember what human food tastes like?”

Hana looked wistful. “I think I’m forgetting. I know that hotteok are sweet and kimchi jjigae is spicy, but even though I know the words I don’t remember the taste.”

She must be nearing forty, but time hadn’t changed the smoothness of her skin or the roundness of her face. If there was one thing that aged her, it was her eyes. They were too knowing. It was only now, with her longing so apparent, that she seemed exactly the high school student that she pretended to be.

Ha Neul had known that longing. It had been food that first drew them to humans, after all. So many colors and textures: thick, greasy noodles coated in black bean sauce, kimbap dotted with yellow, green, and orange vegetables, cream-colored crab meat marinated in soy sauce. They supposed it was harder for Hana, though, having actually known what human food tasted like. Reaching over, they squeezed her hand.

Hana squeezed their hand back and smiled at them. “How’s your food, oppa?”

“Delicious.”

“It’s still weird to me how you eat cows and not humans. Isn’t it unsatisfying?”

“It’s a good enough substitute.” When reduced to their innards, humans and cows weren’t very different, Ha Neul thought, and offal was easy to get from the butcher for no more than a few cents.

Hana trailed a finger through the blood that had congealed on the paper, then licked it off. “You know you’re welcome to come find dinner with me any night.”

The food soured in Ha Neul’s mouth. Being hungry around humans was one thing, eating them was another. Thinking about it made them feel ill.

“I don’t eat humans anymore,” they said, allowing their voice to get sharp.

Hana bit her lip, looking chastised. Ha Neul felt guilty, but they’d told her often enough that they didn’t want to be goaded about their eating habits. They’d tried living as a human long ago, hoping to discover the taste of other food. But a gumiho is a fox at heart, its human appearance a mere illusion, and Ha Neul’s hunger had only grown with each dish they’d eaten. It was all ash. In the end, they’d given into their hunger, only to be horrified by the uniform redness. They’d stopped eating humans by the time they met Hana. She should have known better than to tease them about it.

Ha Neul worried that she would sulk, but instead she rummaged through her backpack and brought out a flyer.

“Here,” she said, sliding it across to Ha Neul. Her voice was light, the previous subject waved away. “Talking about food reminded me of this. I don’t think I can wiggle my way out of it.”

Ha Neul chewed on a piece of liver and read the flyer. It was printed on daffodil yellow paper, the words on it thick, black, and followed by multiple exclamation points. Cartoonish pictures of rice bowls and tacos surrounded the text.

“A cultural diversity lunch? What exactly are the students supposed to learn from that?”

“How to appreciate other people’s cultures, I guess. Mr. Hanson says we should start learning about diversity in high school.”

“I understand that, but why food?”

“Because people like food, obviously. We’re all supposed to bring in one dish from our culture.”

“What do you want to bring in?” They stared at the pictures of rice bowls. Did her teacher expect her to bring in rice? Even Ha Neul knew that plain rice didn’t make a meal.

Hana answered without hesitation. “Kimchi fried rice.”

They couldn’t help laughing at her confidence. “And where in the world are we going to get that?”

Hana smiled. She was prettiest like that, which was exactly why she smiled widest if she needed a favor. “I was going to ask if Mrs. Chang could make it.”

Ha Neul’s answer was as ready as hers had been. “Mrs. Chang is busy and has no money to make kimchi fried rice for free.”

“She doesn’t even have to make that much. There are only twenty students in my class.”

“Isn’t that still a lot?”

Hana pouted. “Please, oppa? I don’t want to be embarrassed. What if everyone else brings something fancy and I don’t have anything?”

There was that longing again, not as obscured by the pout as she thought it was. Ha Neul didn’t understand. Food was food, so what did it matter if she brought banchan or kimchi fried rice? But they could see how happy this simple thing would make her, and that mattered. She was their sister by choice, the only person who wanted to share the partial life they led.

“All right, I’ll ask Mrs. Chang. Even if she says no, we’ll figure something out. Does that sound good?”

“Oh, oppa, I knew I could count on you!”

She threw her arms around Ha Neul, startling them. After a beat, they remembered to lift their own arms and hug her back. They held her close, taking comfort in the gesture that was at once strange and warm.

  Many years ago, on a warm spring night in Korea, Ha Neul had heard a cry of despair. If they had ignored that cry, they might still be living in Korea, trying to find a way to fit into the jumbled new pattern that the war had created. But they had listened, and that was how they’d found Hana, blood on her shirt and two bite marks on her neck. They couldn’t abandon her to that despair. Instead, they had held their hand out and said come, there is still a way to live.

So the two of them had lived, as best as they could, side by side for more than twenty years. When they had decided to go to America, it made the most sense to claim that they were siblings. They’d argued about who should be the elder. Ha Neul had won her over by pointing out that if they were her older brother, they could support her while she went to school.

The papers had been made, and the two of them had moved to Los Angeles to join the number of Korean immigrants building a new life along Olympic Boulevard. While Hana finished her last year in high school and dreamed about college admissions, Ha Neul waited tables and lifted boxes, letting Mrs. Chang speak to them as if they were a child.

It didn’t matter to them whether Mrs. Chang’s food was good or not. They couldn’t taste any of it, after all. They were content seeing the variety of colors in her kitchen. She, in turn, was grateful for someone who stayed in spite of her temper and the customers’ insults. Ha Neul hoped that her gratefulness would soften her to their request. They made sure to be of extra help in the restaurant the day after Hana showed them the flyer, lifting heavy pots off the stove and chatting with customers until the bad food was forgotten.

The restaurant was never busy, and once the lunch hour had passed it was empty. Mrs. Chang used the time to eat her own late lunch. Ha Neul joined her, choking down the rice and drinking cup after cup of tea. They waited until most of the food was gone before saying, “Mrs. Chang, can I ask you a favor?”

Her eyes narrowed. Perhaps she thought they would ask for money. Still, her voice was not unkind when she answered. “What is it?”

“My sister’s teacher asked her to bring in a dish from her culture for a class project. I was wondering if you could make the food.”

“What kind of food?”

“Kimchi fried rice.”

Mrs. Chang sighed and shook her head. “I don’t think I have the time for that, Ha Neul.”

It was the answer they’d expected, but they were still disappointed. “It’s not too difficult to make, is it? I’ll even work extra hours in the restaurant in exchange for it.”

“After a whole day of cooking, do you think I’d have the energy to make more food for a bunch of children? I have my own family to take care of once I’m done here.” She stood up and stacked the empty dishes to take back into the kitchen.

“Mrs. Chang, please.”

“I already said no!”

Ha Neul stood up as she started walking back to the kitchen. “Then at least teach me how to make it.”

She turned around. “What was that?”

Food is food, Ha Neul thought, and food was only ash in their mouth. But they’d promised Hana that they would help her. “Teach me how to cook, Mrs. Chang. If I learn, then I can help you in the kitchen, too.”

She studied them for a moment. They wondered if they looked desperate, if it was that or the promise of help that made her say, “All right then. But I don’t want to hear any complaints because it’s too hard, understand?”

“Oh, perfectly,” Ha Neul said, and followed her into the kitchen, already questioning the wisdom of learning how to cook without taste.

  Hana’s luncheon was in a week, and in that week Ha Neul dedicated themself to learning how to cook. The radio in the kitchen played Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder songs as Mrs. Chang showed Ha Neul how to make galbi and gamjatang, kimbap and gyeranjjim.

Although she wasn’t an unkind teacher, she was also not gentle. Ha Neul disliked the way she grabbed their hand to show them how to chop vegetables, or how she would take the ladle from them to taste soup. They learned quickly, however, and their dishes soon looked the same as Mrs. Chang’s. They began to take their own pleasure with food, relishing in the clean crack that split an egg and the feel of rice grains slipping through their fingers. Taste was lost to them, but they could still see, and hear, and feel.

The first dish they brought out to customers, however, fared no better than any of Mrs. Chang’s.

“Do you call this samgyetang?” asked a middle-aged woman with tightly permed hair.

Ha Neul had known she would be trouble the moment she’d walked in. Something about her pinched mouth had foreshadowed grief. Putting on a practiced smile, they said, “I’m sorry if the soup isn’t good. Should I bring you something else?”

“Nothing you brought is any good. The banchan isn’t even seasoned well!”

Ha Neul bit their tongue, even though their hands ached from chopping meat and mixing seasoning. Before they could regain the patience to smile, however, the woman sighed. “Forget it. I’m sorry. It’s just been a long time since I had a good meal, and I thought I’d find it here.”

Ha Neul studied how deep the wrinkles on her face ran, how calloused her hands were. They wondered how long she had been in America, and what kind of dishes she had the energy to make after a long day of work. Did she have family to care for? When was the last time she’d eaten something someone else made for her?

The woman got her wallet and began counting out bills. Before she could set them on the table, Ha Neul said, “I’m sorry, but could you tell me how you’d like the food to be seasoned?”

Later, Mrs. Chang told them that they had too little pride. “You listen too much to other people’s complaining.”

Ha Neul just laughed, and she looked at them as she often did, like something strange and half unwanted. Still, they kept listening to the complaints. They memorized how much sesame oil to add and how long meat should stay in the pan. They noted the exact shade of orange that carrots turned when they were tender but not limp, and the translucence of onions that would be just sweet enough. The complaints lessened and more customers began to come to the restaurant, brought in by word of mouth.

Mrs. Chang talked of giving Ha Neul a raise. They heard the hesitance in her voice and declined. It was enough to spend time in the kitchen while Mrs. Chang served the customers, her temper improved by their praises. Soon, Ha Neul became the kitchen’s only occupant. They preferred it that way, with only the radio to keep them company. This much of human food they had mastered, and they were content to stay in the confines of the kitchen for a long time, basking in its vivid colors.

  The day before Hana’s potluck, Ha Neul stopped by a supermarket on the way home. They returned to the apartment laden with plastic bags. The kitchen table was as messy as ever, but there was no sign of Hana. No doubt she was out getting food. They cleared the kitchen table, making room for the ingredients they’d bought from the supermarket.

The stove, which had been untouched since they moved in, flared to life without protest. They made rice, and while the water bubbled and spit, they sliced kimchi and diced Spam. They didn’t like Spam. Its sickly pink color reminded them of red watered down, and it slid out of the can with a slither that made them shudder. But it was cheap and Hana liked it, so they tipped the diced ham into the pan without looking at it. Steam filled the air. Ha Neul made more than enough kimchi fried rice for Hana’s classmates, then set aside a little extra for her when she came back.

It was dark when Hana returned home. She was wearing a green polka dot dress, her hair in a ponytail. There was blood on her. Ha Neul could smell it as soon as she walked through the door, and their stomach clenched.

“I’m in the kitchen,” they called out to her.

She walked in, the scent of blood following her. It pervaded the kitchen, making Ha Neul forget, for a moment, the food on the stove. Their stomach growled and their mouth ran dry. They hadn’t eaten all day.

“Oppa, you’re cooking!” Hana said, coming up next to them.

They focused on the rice in the pan, stirring it to mix the kimchi and Spam evenly. The Spam had darkened to a deep pink.  “Of course I am. Unless I’m mistaken, your potluck is tomorrow.”

“You look like a professional chef.”

They smiled in spite of the smell of blood in their nose. “Your compliment is appreciated. Now go wash your hands. I made some for you to eat tonight.”

Hana clapped her hands and ran to do as they said. By the time she came back, the scent of blood had eased, and Ha Neul could hand her the bowl of kimchi fried rice without their hand trembling.

“How is it?” they asked as she began to eat.

She closed her eyes and chewed. Ha Neul knew she could barely taste it, but there was happiness on her face. “It’s delicious, oppa. I know it is.”

They couldn’t smell the blood anymore. Ha Neul felt the warmth of the kitchen again, the steam in the air. They watched Hana eat, a little longing mixed with their pleasure in her enjoyment. The two of them would have made a proper family if only Ha Neul could sit down and eat with her. But if Hana was content with only the hint of flavor, then they were content with only this, its reflection.

They turned back to the stove, and shut it off.

  On the morning of Hana’s potluck, Ha Neul carried a tin foil tray of kimchi fried rice to her bus stop, handing it to her carefully before running to catch their own bus. A disheveled man with a hoarse voice harangued passengers about sinning as the bus crawled its way down Wilshire, and the couple in front of Ha Neul argued in whispers, almost hissing as each accused the other of infidelity. Ha Neul listened with half an ear, looking out the window at the Ford Pintos inching past and the dusty haze that made everything outside glow.

The restaurant was dark and cool, not yet overheated by the stoves. Ha Neul put the chairs in place and wiped the tabletops while Mrs. Chang chatted with her sister, who had joined them for the day. The sister had arrived in America only the week before, and Mrs. Chang was eager to have someone who knew the same people she did and shared the same hopes for this new life.

Ha Neul didn’t interrupt their conversation, dreaming instead about the food they would make that day: the chill of the soy sauce on their skin, the true red of gochujang dark against the silver of the spoon, the steam beading their face in sweat whenever they lifted the lid off a pot.

No customers complained that day, and Mrs. Chang sent Ha Neul home with more galbi and banchan than usual. Ha Neul had made the food, but they chose to feel kindly towards Mrs. Chang for her generosity.

At home, Hana was waiting for them. The tin foil tray sat next to her on the table, still burdened with its food. It was bent slightly out of shape. Bits of rice flecked the tabletop around it. Hana’s mouth was pursed tightly, but it quivered when Ha Neul asked her, “What’s wrong?”

“They said it smelled bad and made fun of me for eating Spam. What do they know? I could eat them instead!”

Ha Neul knew she would have cried, if she could. They sat down next to her, some vice grip squeezing their chest. For Hana’s sake, they smiled. “I’d advise against it. They probably don’t taste good.”

“They’re ungrateful punks. You worked so hard to make this and they wouldn’t even eat it.”

“I am hardly insulted by the bad taste of children a fraction my age.”

Hana wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, a habit she still hadn’t unlearned. Whenever she was angry or upset, her hand went to her eyes as if there were still tears to stem. Ha Neul took her hand and squeezed it.

Her skin was dry and smooth, eroded by neither time nor care. In that respect, she was different from her classmates and everyone else around her. It was hard to remember that difference, however, when she was squeezing Ha Neul’s hand so tightly, looking for comfort after a hurt that should have been slight.

After a moment she said, “I wanted to eat this fried rice.”

Ha Neul squeezed her hand again. “You can eat all of it now, if you want.”

“No, I wanted to really eat it. I wanted it to taste like kimchi fried rice should, to make me full.” Hana stomped to the drawers and came back with a plastic spoon. “Even though those little ingrates can eat, they won’t make use of it.” She dug into the rice hard enough to bend the flimsy plastic and began eating.

Another layer of sadness settled over Ha Neul, heavy and thick as the smog that pervaded Los Angeles. They should have listened to their own advice from the beginning: food was food. How could it teach people anything? Perhaps for Hana’s classmates, the kimchi fried rice was not a sign of comfort and family, but of something else entirely. Perhaps some of their fox’s nature made its way into the dish, marking it as something fearful.

“I’m sorry.” They felt useless with only those words for comfort.

“It’s not your fault, oppa.”

The two of them sat in silence as Hana ate. Ha Neul knew she could finish the whole tray. It wouldn’t make her full, after all. They sat and watched her, trying to imagine what it tasted like and only remembering the crunch of the kimchi under their knife, the splash of red over white rice, the Spam glistening pinkly before they’d thrown it in the pan. Things which were only parts of the whole, not enough to fill the quiet of this kitchen.

Ha Neul wanted, as they hadn’t in years, to take a spoonful of food and taste it. But they knew, even before they finished the thought, that it would be nothing but ash. All they could do was say, “I’ll make you as much food as you want.”

Hana smiled, and though the corners of her mouth lifted, her expression didn’t brighten. She looked her age. “Even if I’ll never be able to tell how good it is?”

“Of course.”

They thought about the colors of different ingredients, the textures under their hands. No matter what other people thought, they didn’t want to forget any of that. As long as Hana wanted food they would cook, and the two of them would keep trying, again and again, to discover taste in the warmth of this kitchen.

  END

  “Cooking with Closed Mouths” is copyright Kerry Truong, 2017.

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Thanks for listening, and I’ll be back soon with a reprint of “How to Remember to Forget to Remember the Old War” by R.B. Lemberg.

Episode #35 — “Cooking with Closed Mouths” by Kerry Truong was originally published on GlitterShip