#now! frozen orange juice pie
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From our picture files: Ladies' Home Journal July, 1950
#now! frozen orange juice pie#pie#pi day#ladies home journal#1950#orange juice#1950s#vintage#vintage advertising#now!#oj#pies#orange juice pie#detroit public library
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Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife #10 : Snack Time
Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Momma bird hungry for all the snacks in the world. Takes some time and frustration before Joel figures out the exact kind of snack you really want.
Warnings: Pregnant reader, Angry!Joel, oral M!receiving, face fucking, throat bulge, throat-pie, dumbification, junk food binge, eating meat, bossy reader as always
18+ ONLY
- - - -
Joel didn’t know he married the Hungry Hungry Hippo, Galactus the planet devourer, Garfield the tabby cat.
You’re on your phone texting while cuddling Joel. He’s more interested in the movie than you are, but that doesn’t stop him from tracing his finger along your arm, occasionally kissing the top of your head and nuzzling his nose. He loves the scent of your shampoo after a wash, damp and cold against his warm chest. Sometimes you protest how closely he wants to cuddle you, all smushed up on the couch. Your body temp skyrocketed with the baby changing everything. But since he’s keep the AC on full blast, your warm heavy body keeps him from being a popsicle.
The landlines chimes in from the kitchen.
He rolls his eyes. Of course, something to interrupt the comfort that took 40 minutes for you to settle into. "I'll get it,” He grumbles quickly and hoists himself up off the couch. He wants to make whoever the fuck is calling at such a late hour a quick convo. If it’s fucking Tommy needing bailed out again, he thinks begrudgingly, I’ll just hang up on him.
He clears his throat and answers: “Hello, Miller Residents.”
"Can you get me a bowl of Cap'n crunch while you're up?"
He glances back over at you sitting up on the couch, your cell to your ear as you wave at him. you point to your belly mouthing I T S F O R T H E B A B Y.
It’s for the baby, my ass. You’ve been a hungry hungry hippo who’s been snacking like crazy and ignoring the doctor’s warnings.
But cranky Momma is way worse than a scolding doctor.
He grits his teeth and slams the receiver a little too hard down on the desk.
You can hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, a clash of a bowl on the counter and the jingle of overly processed cereal filling it up.
He walks back into the living room. You’ve taken up the whole couch now, with no inclination to move over to let him back on.
You shove a fist into the bowl and pop a bunch of the crunchy orange squares into your mouth “f’anks” you mumble, eyes not once making contact with him as you stare ahead and much away. Crumbs fall onto your chest and down to the floor and sofa, as if Joel hadn’t just cleaned all of it this morning.
.
The next night, Joel's cooking some steaks. You weren’t really a meat-crazed person, having maybe one or two helpings of poultry or occasionally red beef a week, but normally ,you could go without it for a few meals without thinking about it.
Pregnant momma? She was a fucking carnivore. He had barely set the sizzling steak down before you snatch one onto your plate. He turns around to slice into one, checking its temp before serving, only to see it was a bit too red and bloodied on the inside.
"Oh babe I gotta cook these a little longer; they're too rare--"
You were hacking away and tearing a large chunks of the red, near pulsing meat, juices pouring out your lips, a vampire gorged on a fat blood sucking meal. Despite its tenderness, you chew endlessly and stare off into the table like a Llama enjoying its food on the field.
"Maybe...we should—slow down a bit,” he suggests with uncertainty. His fork and knife frozen in midair, still in each hand. He hasn’t shifted view or blinked, but clear worry (and maybe a tad bit of fear) stretch across his face.
"Uighgrrfmggmmdeeofxsw,” you reply with gargled cow remains sloshing in your wide open trap.
“Right. That."
You swallow what’s left. Joel’s does a double take: your steak is somehow gone, juice licked clean off the plate in front of you.
“Can I have yours???"
He had only sliced 4 cuts for himself so far. But the hungry look in your pupils, licking your lips while watching his dinner, it’s clear you’ve answered for him. He sadly sets his cutlery down and slides his plate to you.
Its even more interesting when you douse it in salt and throw a slab of butter on top of it, watching it melt before slicing a big chunk off.
"You gotta watch the salt intake—“
“—Can you make chicken? I want chicken now.”
“N-no,” he shakes his head, whiplash from the conversation. Maybe you’ve gone def AND blind AND lost your taste buds. “I made steak. You've had 2 steaks now. Why do you need chicken?”
“That second one was for the baby. The chicken is for me.”
“What about the fist one?”
“….We split that.”
“Awfully hungry baby,” he says with a dead tone, straight faced as he eats the one roll left in the basket that hasn’t been devoured by you.
“Well she’s yours, isn’t she?”
-
You wipe your face with a napkin, a fried chicken leg and wing now securely packed tight in your tum tum along with the famished baby.
"What's for dessert?" You chime eagerly.
Joel turns to wash the dishes, hiding his smirk. He’s got you now, no surprise cravings will catch him short on this one: He boasts proudly, “I bought you apple pie--"
"I want cupcakes. Whip cream icing. Chocolate.”
His grin quickly deflates into a frown. “No.” He says sternly, a little aggravated. “I bought you pie—“
"Did I say I want pie? L I S T E N,” you snap, slapping your palms together with each syllable.
He puts his foot down with tense sudsy hands going to his hips. “No. I'm not going out again.”
You raise your eyebrows threateningly. One look.
30 minutes later Joel is shuffling into the house with a pack of 12 cupcakes he bought at the bakery.
-
You’ve managed to prop yourself up on the couch after some heaving. “Ha! The baby is making me workout get strong! Obviously that’s why I’m so hungry.” You shrug it off. “Oh! I want raw cookie dough.”
Joel was on his phone the entire time, but the second you said I want, his brain queued in and he quickly retorts, “No.”
He goes back to replaying the voicemail he missed, settled and focused on the opposite couch.
Of course he Doesn't realize you’ve somehow lumbered up past him and now waddling back with 4 chunks of raw cookies in your hand, popping them in your mouth one at a time.
His eyes dark up to watch you, transfixed on the screen as you bend your knees, hardly paying attention to the way you’re about to fall on the couch. He has half the mind to help, but what’s one lesson you need to learn the hard way?
Regretfully, you bounce down successfully and pull your legs up.
And then, as you dust your hands off from the chocolate stains melted on your palms, Joel’s lips part in a o as you reach behind you and pulling an entire gallon container of animal crackers.
"Babe"
"Wha?” You don’t turn around to look at him, still shoveling them into your mouth. “Yuu wan wan?"
"You need to stop eating every damn thing in the house.”
You gasp incredulously, your hand over your heart in painful offense. “The baby is very hungry! She's related to you and that belly.”
He only remembers to stop himself from reminding you that your belly is much bigger than his now.
"The baby—“ (that was the new thing now: the baby this baby that. The baby is why I need this shirt in blue and green. The baby is why I need the ice cream layered horizontally not stacked vertically. The baby —)
"No. Not the baby,” he snaps. “You."
You start to cry. "I thought I AM your baby!!!"
He gives you a “seriously” look and you stop the fake tears.
“So how about it?”
“I don’t want you getting salmonella.”
“ugh fine. You can bake them I guess.”
He’s about to protest the idea of any dough going into your body, cooked or raw, but knows its going to be a lost cause.
Joel makes you a platter of Assorted cookies: chocolate chip, fudge, triple chocolate, sugar, and oatmeal raisin.
You clap your hands as he carefully places the little plate atop your bump. Humored by the custom “mini” table you’ve got going on now. Maybe his baby doesn’t like her head being used as a countertop, but with the way you close your eyes and moan after biting into the chocolate chip, babygirl must be pleased too.
He goes to the bathroom quickly and then comes back only to glare down at you. You've taken exactly one bite out of every single cookie, leaving crescent shapes for him to scathe.
Every cookie, except oatmeal raisin. You clearly did take a bite ,but spit it out and put the lump back near the undesirable #1 cookie.
“These mine?” Joel asks bemused.
You nod happily. You felt very proud to have enough control and leave him some this time!
-
It’s about 9:30 pm. You're acting drunk and woozy even tho you're just a new level of tired and achy
"Woopppoooooo!!! Paaartttaaayyy!" You shout with fists in the air, drinking down a shot glass of sugar water.
“Alright party Momma. It’s bedtime.”
"Ppfffttt! No old man! Dont steal my fun.”
Joel stands over the couch, blocking your view from the TV, his hands on his hips. “You're being difficult "
“YoU’rE bEiNg DifFicUlT,” you mock and wave him off. "Oop I need to pee. Help me up.”
Joel” grabs both your grabby hands and hoists you up to your feet. “Now up the stairs, you.”
You waddle towards the stairwell, one hand cupping your lower back. Joel is right at your heel. you up at the treaturous journey ahead, all 8 steps to the top floor. Cracking your neck side to side, you wave your arms over to the handrail and begin: “Left foot. Right foot. Left. Fuck. Fuck stairs. Who invented stairs. Left foot…”
Joel’s so sleepy that he nearly falls forward. And he knows you would not take too kindly to him ramming his face into your ass as you battle your worst enemy.
Finally to the top, you scurry over like a penguin to the bathroom. He fears the long night ahead, with all the sugar swirling in your system undoubtedly going to keep him up.
He rubs his wears eyes. Startled when a moment later you’re right next to him by your side of the bed, patiently waiting for him to help you up.
"Get in the covers,” he hums with exhaustion.
But you don’t move. “No"
"Now.”
"I want an orange.”
"No. You—you just had your snack."
"That was the baby's snack. I want MY snack”.
Dear Christ almighty, bless me with a boy next time so that I have a fighting chance against her and mini her. “If I get you an orange, will you go to bed?" He asks irritably, his voice enunciating each word to ensure the contract that he’s making with you right now is solidified on both ends of the bargain.
You think it over before nodding with a little innocent beam.
You crawl into the covers just as Joel descends the stairs once again. It takes the entire time for him to grab some oranges, a peeler, and paper towel just for you to rotate your middle and sit your ass in bed.
You sit up against the headboard and clap your hands, so excited when he reappears with the goods. He puts the towel on your mini-table bump and plops one orange atop.
Joel sighs and begins to walk towards his side of the bed, but is haunted when you clear your throat for his attention.
“Yes?”
"Peel it.”
He tries not to visibly roll his eyes before he's opening the round orange with his large fingers and clubbed nails. Everything smells like nectarine now.
Picky as can be, you peel off the extra dried white veiny bits and suck on each pod of the orange.
You expect a sweet simpleness to squirt on your tongue, but instead, a sour, bitter, unripe taste floods your mouth. “Ugh these are gross, now I want—“
Joel closes his wardrobe drawer, his shirt off and only halfway down to his boxers. “NO. NO means fucking NO. I’M TIRED. YOU’RE TIRED. WE'RE GOING TO BED. NOW,” he barks sternly into the mirror. His shoulders huffing from such aggression without being able to look at you.
You throw the covers off, orange skin and slices flying everywhere.
“Fuck you! I want ice cream! I want bananas and steak and potatoes and tacos and—!"
-
He bares his teeth in a snarl, deep angered eyes casting downward with each poignant rut. “You're so annoying, so goddamn spoiled,” he grunts. His huge hands are wrapped around the top of your head and cupping your jaw and bulging cheek, keeping you in place as he pushes his length into your mouth over and over again. “You’re gonna do shit when I tell you, the first time I say—shit—fuck there we go—gonna listen—unnggghhfff—listen ta me from now on. Just be my good little silent. Slutty. Pregnant. Wife.”
Your teary eyes are fixed upward at his imposing figure. Feeling each time his tip nudges the back of your throat has you gagging but you can’t pull away to breathe—not that you want to.
“You get—what I give ya—and you be grateful bout it.”
You gargle a moan in agreement. His balls slap against your chin with brutal punches. by this time tomorrow, there will be Joel-finger prints bruising your face and neck.
You love it. You love it when Joel forces you out of the hormonal phase of bossing him around, the endless need to want more and more, no end in sight to your greedy gluttonous desires, until he’s blowing up and blowing off steam using you instead. And it becomes very clear to you how much you just really wanted him this whole time.
“That’s it—that’s it—you were hungry for my cock weren’t ya? Yeahhhh. Just begging me all night for it. Wanted all that meat for dinner, huh? Couldn’t just come out n’ say it? Your little brain didn’t know what ya truly needed. S’okay, Momma. I’m takin’ care of ya, aren’t I?”
The gluglugglug sounds mixed with strained pitchy whines echo in the master bedroom.
You grip his thighs with your hands to steady yourself, allowing him to abuse your throat. Maybe your knees hurt. Maybe the baby is settling uncomfortably against your lower back, and maybe it’s going to be really difficult to get up from this position in a few minutes. But each thick throb of his length filling your mouth over and over again, the spit slick strings dropping from your lips to your swollen tits, and the dent in your throat from his cock stretching to accomodate his size has your swollen pussy dripping into the carpet for more, more, more.
It’s been at least a week since Joel drained himself. No wonder he’s been so on edge with each demand. Usually marveling how cute you are, but tonight he was at him limit. You were about to get a hefty, Joel Miller sized load filling your belly, and it’s going to be better than any cookie, steak, or orange in the entire world.
He feels the way your lips suction tighter. Your eyes are leaking tears, and he smirks as he brushes his thumb over to collect it. Briefly bringing it to his tongue and sucking on the salty taste before holding your head in place.
“Shhh-shhhhhhhh. You gonna take it? Shit—shit—fuck yeah you are. Gonna fuckin take what I give ya, that’s right. My sweet wife. Bossing me around. Shit. Love when ya get like this. Known I’m gonna wreck that ass or that pussy or that mouth—all belongs to me. Fuck—fuck—fuuckk—“
His mouth drops into an o, brows drawn tightly together as slams his pulsing member balls deep into your mouth one final time. You choke, eyes wide as the tip of his cock breaches the deepest part of your throat, your nose suffocated by his pubic hairs and the fat of his lower belly surrounding your cheeks. His balls twitch against your lower lip, and you feel it coming. The travel of his seed from his sack, up his shaft along your tongue—a generous spurt of cum finally shooting from his tip and down your throat. You gag with each fat load that he pumps down your esophagus, too much to swallow at once yet having no other choice but to gulp it down quickly. Your face feels hot. He’s cumming endlessly, your mind blanking and eyes feeling blurry.
“Take it, take it, take it, that’s it,” he hisses through clenched teeth.
You nod just a little, hugging your arms around his thick thighs tighter. He grins, humming “That’s my good fucking wife, and throws his head as the last of his pleasure makes its way safely from his sated balls to your full womb.
Joel pulls you off his length gently. You sputter out cum and saliva onto his feet, sucking in air through your lungs like a newborn.
Joel gets to one knee, his thumb pressed gently under your chin so you look directly at him. He’s got such softness in his eyes again, the ones that just switch on a dime the second he’s satisfied his aggress out on you.
You’re completely wrecked: snot spit connecting to your nostrils and swollen lips, cheeks warm and eyes puffy and hazy with exhaustion and tears.
“That—mmffffgg!—was—definitely—my—snack,” you rasp with a hoarse voice. A lazy grin spread across your face only briefly as you continue to suck air.
Joel shakes his head before planting a long kiss atop your forehead. his hands glide along your body, and just in time as your knees give way and you’re falling into him.
If you had half the mind right now, you’d curse him out for scooping you up and carrying you to bed like his once youthful bride, too concerned with the size and weight of your new body putting unnecessary stress on his aging knees and back. But Joel doesn’t protest once. Just watches you with loving eyes as he settles you into the soft bed. His tongue dips to your chest and breasts, kissing and sucking away any remnants of his rough face fucking. His cum, your spit, and fuvk it, even the little snot specks—all of it he cleans up before coming up to your lips. He kisses you softly with gentle pecks, enough to ensure you can still catch your breath. He sucks your lower lip into your mouth before wiping his own with his thumb. You’re calmer now, sated and drifting so close to sleep.
Joel clambers into bed next to you, wrapping his arm under your head and swaddling you close. You instinctively roll into his embrace. Kissing his peck and rubbing your face against him dreamily with soft breaths. “Tha hit ther spert juss rite. Ur da bess, Jol.”
“I know. So are you.” He waits for a reply, but nothing comes from you. “Are you goin’ into a food coma, baby?”
Your gentle snores answer him, along with the drool now pooling on his peck.
He chuckles and pulls your head into his face, inhaling your scent. Strong, secure, graceful hands caress your big belly. Your very very full belly, the one that he’s not going to envy when it gives you a the tummy ache tomorrow from stuffing it with so much junk food tonight.
- - - -
Taglist:
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop
#pedro pascal smut#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#last of us fanfiction#last of us smut#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#tlou smut#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us smut#the last of us fic#last of us fic#joel dealing with preggo wife
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Sukekiyo 10th Anniversary Café
Those who were interested probably already know, but here is the menu for the sukekiyo 10th Anniversary Cafe.
MAIN DISHES
The Aishita Shinzou salad-style tagliata with balsamic and 'crimson love' sauce
Room 304 "The truth of the beef tongue stew" with bread
Squid ink and seafood sukekiyo pasta ~Jet-Black Ceremony~
Torii-chan limited omurice
DESSERTS
Candis (baked cheesecake with strawberry mascarpone cream)
Valentina ~pure white dress~ (truffle chocolate cake covered in white chocolate mousse made to resemble a fluffy white dress)
MOAN parfait ~served with jet-black sauce~ "A parfait that depicts Kyo in MOAN out of tuiles."
Kuchi ni ringo ~bright red apple custard pie~
DRINKS
sukekiyo special cafe latte (with EROSIO cover art)
Don't break, that's too fast, that's not the bright red color I want hot apple ginger (quote from Kuchi ni ringo)
Jet-black ceremony soda that you want to assimilat and mix right now (cranberry-flavoured)
Sashite Sashite (lit. "stab stab", from Frame out kara no, made of tomato juice, soda, bubbly/jelly, with tabasco; will come with a special member recipe card to learn how to drink it)
Kaka Monster (ref. to Waizatsu, made with lychee syrup and orange juice)
Tsumetai Chinmoku Frozen (lit. "Cold Silence Frozen", in reference to tour title. Strawberry & cranberry-flavoured. Seemingly comes with a printed picture of a sukekiyo show on top.)
Other drinks that don't include a special coaster: Premium Malts Sake, Ice Oolong Tea, Orange Juice, and Iced Coffee.
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I made it to work! I held it together and did not cry! Almost but did not! It was a kind of hard day though. Not be sure of any of the kids or anything. I was just super tired and a little wobbly.
I I slept much better last night. Though I still had bizarre dreams. I woke up a bunch but I actually felt alright when James said goodbye. I was able to half sleep for another hour. And that was nice. And when I woke up I was alright. I was a little tired but I felt fine. I could go to work.
So I let Francine know and I got washed and dressed. I honestly was a little over dressed and to warm for a lot of today. But I felt cute. My hair actually felt normal today. So that was good. I wore my silly goose earrings. I made lunch with different leftovers. And made cereal for breakfast. I put together orange juice and frozen raspberries for myself for the day. And took some DayQuil.
I walked to the nursery and got a little overheated. And would remain that way for entirely to long. My chest hurts or just felt very full a lot today. Which was frustrating. But when the medicine was working it was working and I was able to be mostly on my game.
It was really nice to see the kids. When I got there I rolled up to the class and was like. Hey mingo's. And they think that's very funny and kept repeating it. So that's what we said all day. They also liked to call me Ms taxi? Kids are goofy.
The outside times were the best parts of today. I felt the best during those times. But I did also just enjoy doing some project prep for Mr Will. And feeling useful even when I was still a bit dazed.
While outside for the first recess I worked on my embroidery. Which I like very much but was hard to focus on. There was also a new sub today! His name is John and you won't believe this but he is Stanley's grandson! What a small world! He's really nice! We sat on a bench and talked while we watched the kids. He is a CNA and is working so much! But I think he will enjoy the nursery. He also wants to take my sewing class so now I gotta tell Stanley. I love making connections.
We walked back to the school. The kids were being very silly about holding my hands. I only have two! I can't hold all of you!!! I would love to but I cannot.
Lunch was fine and getting them to Naptime was fine. They were mostly good. There was some chatting but it's not that deep. I was just really losing steam and was getting upset because I wasnt feeling good. Thankfully the second dose of medicine would kick in soon but it always upsets my belly first. Will left me with some paper to make dinosaurs and then tape out a general skeleton for them. Which was a fun little project to do.
I was thrilled to go to my break. I was really hungry. And it was a good break. I watched videos and finished up my embroidery for the day. Felt good.
After nap we had some time for play and then right outside. Where we spent the rest of the day. One little girl was having a meltdown after nap and I felt very bad. I tried to get her to calm down but it was tough. We had to call in reinforcements. But I got everyone else outside.
Where the kids put together a little birthday party for me. They made me cake and pie using mulch. And they put gifts together with different stacks of toys. And they all sang happy birthday to me!! They are so cute.
We also played soccer. And I gave them all brooms and we swept the train structure. I think the other teachers think I am strange. But I was having fun. And they were having fun. And no one got hit in the head by a broom handle.
I was glad when the day was over. The end took a while. Children were being crazy but in a fun way. They put me in jail again. We ran around. They always get confused by how I can have bursts of running energy and then can't breathe so I need a break. But they don't mind to much. I also got to introduce myself to more parents. I feel bad I won't be back until march. But it was nice to meet them still.
James came and got me. And took me home. I was very happy to be done. I was tired!!
James made us pasta for dinner. And I gave myself until 7 to be a couch potato. After that I went to the studio and worked on a more elaborate piece for tomorrow and set up another. I can't believe we're wrapping up this project!! And then it's my birthday!
Me and James laid in bed and watch videos. And eventually I took a shower. But now I'm feeling a little off again. And I'm going to take some NyQuil and go to sleep.
I am at the museum tomorrow. With a pretty easy day. And then if I am feeling up to it I may take myself birthday shopping! We will see how it goes!
I hope you all have a good night. Thank you for the good vibes. I love you!
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Key Lime Pie Smoothie Recipe
Key lime pie doesn't just need to be enjoyed in its traditional form; now you can drink it as a smoothie! 1 container Key lime-flavored Greek yogurt, 1.5 cups ice or as desired, 1 tablespoon heavy whipping cream or more to taste, 1 splash orange juice, 1 frozen banana cut into chunks
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Una Ermendrud's Apple Tart
Ingredients:
A pie crust. I buy mine, but you could make it.
6 large apples, more if using smaller ones. I used 1 granny smith apple and 5 gala, but you can change it up. If not using any tart apples be sure to add a teaspoon of lemon juice during the cooking phase for balance.
A small jar of apricot preserves
Oil. Coconut or canola are fine.
Dash of salt, 1 tsp each cinnamon, nutmeg, orange peel (dried or fresh grated). Dashes of cardamom and allspice are optional, but may add depth.
Before anything else: Make sure one of the racks in your oven is near the top and the other near the bottom. Check that there is room above the upper one for your pie tin to fit comfortably. I tell you this because I have messed it up in the past. Moving hot oven racks is no fun. Also make sure you have all your ingredients and tools.
1. If you are so inclined, or have no choice due to living in Exandria, make a single pie crust using your favorite recipe. Otherwise buy a good frozen one, thaw and place in your pie pan or tart tin. Press it gently into place until it is smooth and even. Stab it all over with a fork. Sprinkle it with a dash of nutmeg and cinnamon. Preheat oven (Yes really. No, you can’t just stick it straight in. Believe me, I have tried. I wasn’t kidding about experimental baking). Also, make sure your unbaked crust is chilled before you put it in otherwise it will collapse before it crisps into shape. Bake crust according to directions for a single prebaked pie shell. It should be golden brown and firm.
2. While that is baking, peel and slice your apples. How to slice: Start by cutting the sides of the apple off the core. This will leave you with a thick cross section. Now cut the sides off of that cross section. Once you have done this to all your apples, thinly slice all of the sides of the cross sections. Then take your halves, you know, the kinda heart shaped pieces? Trim the wedge shaped edges off and set them aside. Now you have what looks like more of the pieces from the cross section. Slice those thinly like you did the others. We’re going to use them to make fun shapes later.
3. Heat some coconut or canola oil in a 12 inch skillet over medium heat. Add your thin slices and toss to coat in oil. Cook them briefly, just until translucent. Maybe 3 min. Some slices will cook faster than others. Take the slices out as they become bendy.
4. Take your thin slices out and let them hang out on a plate for a bit. Hold onto that skillet because now you’re going to throw all your wedges in to cook along with two tablespoons more oil, after they have a few minutes to soften, add 2/3 of the apricot preserves, and all the spices. Add the lemon juice now if you’re using it. Cook that for ten minutes or until it’s all soft.
5. Mash those up. Fork, potato masher, whatever you want to use is fine. Then let that cook down a little. You just want it to not be soupy.
6. Dump that in your pie shell and smooth it flat.
7. Now’s the fun bit. Time to arrange those thin slices. I highly recommend doing this part sitting down, because it will take a while. The easiest way is to start on the outside and layer the slices in a spiral working inward. If you’re feeling it, you can wrap the thin slices into little roses and arrange them in the pie shell. Sprinkle a little more cinnamon if you want, or don’t if you want a pristine aesthetic. Make little tinfoil covers for the edges so the crust doesn’t burn or use a tool made for this if you have one.
8. On bottom rack of your oven, bake for 30 min at 350* F.
9. While that’s happening, heat up the rest of the apricot preserves. You want them just warm enough to be fluid.
10. Take out your tart and heat your broiler (or possibly grill if you’re outside the U.S.)
11. Brush the top of the apples (not the crust) with the apricot preserves. Put it on the top rack of your oven for no more than 3 minutes. Check it every 30 seconds. When the apples start to look brown in spots, take it out and let it cool.
12. If using a tart tin, unmold it from the tin. If using a pie pan, don’t bother. Slice and eat. If it’s still warm, consider accompanying it with some vanilla ice cream. If not, a little whipped cream could be nice.
I made this recipe in reference to my fanfic series Two Roads Diverged on ao3, but you don't have to read fanfic to appreciate a pie, am I right?
#recipes of Exandria#fanfic recipe#cr recipe#apple tart#yes i spent four hours figuring this out#Unas apple tarts#caleb widogast
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may we have your cupcake recipe? <3
HELL YEAH, thank u anon. i’ll give you vanilla, citrus, spice, and chocolate cupcakes & if you want anything else let me know! this is going to be stream-of-consciousness rather than linear recipe, because unfortunately that is how i bake. if you want a linear recipe, let me know which particular set of pieces you want and i can write it up for you. i’ll even guesstimate times and such.
BEFORE YOU READ FURTHER: this is very long. if you are not into cupcakes, bookmark this for later when you suddenly decide to make cupcakes and keep scrolling. now with new added read more for additional readability <3
making cupcakes takes me about two hours if i’m doing two batches or an hour and a half if i’m doing one. it might take you a little longer the first time because you don’t quite know what order to do things in or how long everything takes. i like to start my fillings first because they take longer to be ready, then turn on my oven, then mix my batter, then make the frosting while cupcakes are baking.
SUPPLIES
you will need: a cupcake tin, cupcake wrappers, at least one large mixing bowl (2 is recommended to avoid a lot of washing dishes between steps), a hand mixer or a lot of elbow grease, spatula, whisk, small bowl, a small grater or microplaner, a piping tip + bag (or just a plastic bag with a hole cut in one corner) and at least one saucepan or small frying pan. measuring spoons/cups are useful but i’ve tried to include thicknesses and alternatives so you can eyeball it if you have to (i usually do, just because i know what i’m looking for lol)
you will also need some of the following (check your specific cupcake type to find out which): a box of cake mix or ingredients to make your own cake mix, cream cheese, condensed milk, butter, powdered sugar, lemons/limes/oranges, chocolate, vanilla extract (real is recommended; i know it’s more expensive but the increase in quality is worth it if you can), lemon extract, heavy cream, pumpkin pie spice (or at least nutmeg + cinnamon), and fruit of your choice.
CUPCAKE
okay so: box mix is fine. it’s good. great, even. as long as you do this: replace the oil with butter. add an extra egg. i don’t care how many eggs it calls for. i know it feels like a lot of eggs. add an egg anyway. add a sprinkle of extra salt. a tsp or so. you’ve already made a good cupcake!
vanilla:
add a tablespoon (about three capfuls, if you don’t have measuring spoons) of REAL vanilla extract if you can afford it (or i really like the vanilla paste that has specks of bean in it. 10/10)
citrus:
one teaspoon (one capful) vanilla extract. two-ish teaspoons of lemon extract. zest of one lemon. zest of one orange (i like blood orange particularly much) or lime. replace 1/2 cup of the water with lemon and lime or orange juice. add about a tbsp of extra sugar.
spice:
two teaspoons pumpkin pie spice (you can see the spice in the batter without it discoloring the batter) + one tablespoon vanilla extract.
chocolate:
it’s already perfect xoxo. JUST KIDDING. add a tablespoon of vanilla extract.
instructions:
these ratios are for 24 cupcakes. take your cupcake pan and line it with cupcake papers. you can grease the top of the pan if you’re anxious, but it shouldn’t be necessary, especially if you have a nonstick pan. then just mix your batter until it’s not particularly lumpy and fill your cupcake papers about a third of the way full. a quarter cup measure is easiest for me to use bc the amount that easily comes out of it is about the right amount & it drips less than a spoon does. then i like to use a spoon to push the batter up the sides a little so it holds the fillings better.
FILLINGS
you can mix and match the hell out of these, honestly. i typically do cheesecake in everything & then fruit in vanilla or citrus cupcakes, specifically apple or cranberry in spice cupcakes, & chocolate in vanilla or chocolate cupcakes.
cheesecake:
one package softened cream cheese + 10 oz (2/3 a 14 oz can) condensed milk. stir on low heat until smooth, then add 2 teaspoons vanilla extract. DON’T add sugar. it’s not supposed to be very sweet.
fruit compote:
literally just half a cup or so of frozen or fresh fruit. i’ve done this with raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, cranberries, apples (fresh and cubed is best), and peaches. anything is fair game, honestly. i want to try stewed kumquats and plums at some point. if frozen, add a tiny bit of water. if fresh, add about as much water as you have fruit. squeeze some lemon and lime in there. add sugar to taste. for the apple spice mix, add another teaspoon of vanilla and a teaspoon of pumpkin pie spice.
IMPORTANT: you do NOT want this to be sweet. this is NOT jam. it should be a little tart when you taste it. if it’s not thick enough, slurry a tbsp of cornstarch in a little bit of cold water and stir it in. it should be thick enough to not drip off of a spoon when you turn it upside down.
ganache:
heat a cup of heavy cream on very low heat. i like to do a double boiler: saucepan half-full of water, bowl full of cream in the saucepan. when the cream is warm, stir in most of a package of dark chocolate chips. stir HARD—whisk the shit out of it. DO NOT let any of the water get into the bowl!! you want the ganache to be gloppy when you lift it with a spoon—it has to not soak into the cupcake mix.
instructions:
so you have your 1/3 full cupcake wrappers with the batter spooned a little bit up the sides. using a small kitchen spoon, drop a spoonful of cheesecake into each cupcake. then top that with a spoonful of ganache or a spoonful of fruit compote (or both! it’s your kitchen!). spoon batter over the top and down the sides. fully covered, it should come to just under the top of the cupcake wrapper—i usually have 1/4 to 1/8 of an inch grace.
pop that in the oven according to the box instructions. i usually find that cupcakes with fillings take the longer time listed, rather than the shortest one. when your time goes off, touch the top of a cupcake. if it feels firm (think: ripe plum; you can push on it and it’s soft but it doesn’t cave in), it’s probably done. you can also put a toothpick down one of the sides, rather than the middle. pull your cupcakes out of the oven, put in your second batch, and set these aside to cool.
FROSTINGS
there are two frostings that go well here. i tend to like buttercream for vanilla and citrus and cream cheese for apple spice and chocolate. your mileage may vary. this is where the sweetness comes from, without overwhelming the cupcake!
buttercream:
let two sticks of butter (one unsalted and one salted) soften on your countertop. DON’T melt them. when they’re room temperature and you could mold them with your fingers, put them in a bowl. a mixer is best for this stage, but you can do it with a whisk and spatula if you’re determined, have patience, or can switch out with someone else. whip the butter a little. add five cups of powdered sugar, a cup at a time.
for a vanilla cupcake, add a tablespoon of vanilla extract (or vanilla paste! the specks are SO cool looking!) and use heavy cream to even out the texture until you think it’s pipeable (you’re looking for “holds its shape without being Chunky”). for a citrus cupcake, add a teaspoon of citrus extract and lime juice until it’s pipeable. two sticks of butter is too much, but one stick usually isn’t quite enough, and i prefer to have extra to practice piping with.
cream cheese frosting:
let one package (8oz) of cream cheese soften on your countertop. mix it in a bowl until smooth. add about four cups (3/4 a regular water cup, i think) of powdered sugar—again, we’re looking for “pipeable without being inflexible”. add a tablespoon of vanilla extract/paste and use heavy cream if you need to soften the texture at all.
both of these frostings take coloring very well. something that i personally love is doing a sort of gradient, where i’ll add red to one side and mix it well, yellow to another side and mix it well, make some orange in the middle, and leave some white here and there. then spoon from each section into a piping bag and voila, free beautiful swirls. you can also use a knife to frost your cupcakes, but i think piping is fairly easy to pick up on if you try it a few times, and it makes your cupcakes look that much more professional.
instructions:
make SURE your cupcakes are COOL TO THE TOUCH before you frost them! pop them in the fridge if you’re in a hurry! a single layer of piping should be enough, but decorate if you want. icing sugar is pretty. don’t go too overboard with sprinkles—they make it hard to eat.
voila! cupcakes.
SUBSTITUTIONS
i have made these gluten-free, dairy-free, corn-free, vegan, etc etc. gluten free box mix is fine. your own powdered sugar (powdered sugar + tapioca starch) is great. you can do a coconut milk pudding instead of cheesecake or ganache. you can do baking soda + vinegar instead of baking powder (1/4 tsp bs + 1/2 tsp vinegar per tsp baking powder). if you’re allergic to fruit, i am SO SORRY for you but please try the chocolate ones. you can substitute any extract, any flavor profile, any combination of ingredients. if you’re using a commercial egg substitute, just add an extra 1/4 cup of it. if you’re using flaxseed, just add an extra tablespoon of flaxseed + 3 tablespoons water.
it may not come out exactly the same as the standard ones, but my friends with dietary restrictions still swear by them. i have never brought cupcakes home from a party. i don’t think anyone who’s ever tried one has not gotten a second helping. people who swear they aren’t cupcake people love these cupcakes. (it’s because they aren’t overly sweet or moist or dry and they aren’t one-note, because the fillings add complexity of texture and flavor. there you go, now you know how to describe your new cupcakes to people).
congrats! you’re about to be everyone’s favorite party guest!
#personal#askposting#i apologize in advance for how much is in here ❤️#i’ll try to put a read more on this when i get on a laptop#most of these recipes are not Mine in that i did not solely invent them. however i have altered them & mixed & matched them & etc etc#so they’re yours now
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The News is only ‘The News’ because That Stuff rarely happens. That’s what makes it New.
There is no Dearth of Kindness
In this far flung world of ours.
To watch the news, anyone’d think
That the only thing holding us back
From slashing our neighbor’s throats
While they slept,
Is not knowing what time they went to bed.
Have you never had a stranger
Offer you their place in line at the grocery store?
Have you ever dropped by a friend’s house,
Unexpectedly,
To see how they’re recovering,
And watched them get out of their sickbed
To get you some iced tea?
A piece of pie?
Haven’t infants,
Practically wet from the womb,
Ever given you a gummy grin,
Meant to melt your heart?
That’s not gas.
Have you ever tried to walk
Your dog in the park without having
Some kid, some old woman, someone,
Stoop to pet,
To shower the creature you love,
With more love?
Some days you might as well
Just sit on a bench, holding the leash,
Waiting for the comers to come,
And coo and fawn.
There is no dearth of kindness
Even in this me-first world of ours.
Institutions (like racism) are intolerable.
Actions (child abuse, for example) are unacceptable.
Attitudes (misogyny) are unbearable.
And a lot of the food, frankly, is designed
To kill you.
But the people . . .
The living breathing people
The babies, the eight year olds full of unshakable wisdom,
The dads, the brothers, the skateboarders,
The sullen barista who never gets your order right,
The teacher, the tattooed bookseller, the bank teller
Smiling behind a wall of glass, the kids detained in cells,
The girl with down syndrome who’s a model IN PARIS,
The surgeon rushed off her feet, the foreign ladies,
working in a factory stuffing nylons into plastic eggs,
the ninety-year-olds who
Still need more time, who have other plans, something to say
Who, nevertheless, want a tomorrow, and another after that . . .
Me in a chlorinated swimming pool
In a silent underwater world: untouchable,
Remote and weird,
We’re still GRAND.
Don’t say otherwise.
Still perambulating miracles, every one of us.
So full of unspent, untapped, unawakened potential!
You mean to tell me a people who produced
Shakespeare, Rosa Parks, Byron and Botticelli,
Sydney Portier, Amelia Earhart, and both Obamas,
Fitzgerald, Bradbury, and Pratchett,
Angela Davis, Richard Ayode, and Neil Gaimon.
Led Zeppelin, the Stones, AND the Beatles,
My nanny, my niece, and me,
This family of people,
This remarkable array of stardust and sunlight,
Should be incapable of a little kindness,
Of letting someone else get the last word?
Take the biggest slice?
Hold the remote control?
Saying sorry even when you’re sure you’re right?
Of not asking to speak to the manager?
Of saying yes unless you absolutely must say no?
Of asking, “How can I make your day better?”
When our own day has been one of the world’s worst,
In the entire history of people, or days, or things being bad.
You’re a liar if you say so.
You don’t know our people,
Like I know our people.
And they’re ALL our people.
This abundant world is abundant in kindness.
Despite certain old folks being certain
That going to Wal-Mart after dark,
Is essentially building your own coffin,
With your own hands.
A long time ago, now,
I was walking home from the grocery store,
In January, in the snow, a little after midnight,
And a girl, chatting on her cellphone, ran a red light.
She sent me flying.
Then I crashed to earth, rag-doll style,
Broken wherever a break could manage to be.
And this kid, this youth, this child,
Called 911 to save the life she had
Forever altered.
So brave. So decent. So kind.
And the ambulance was delayed.
And the fire truck was slow in the snow.
So random people, about a dozen,
Whose names I will never know,
Whom I can never thank,
Got out of their cars,
And made a circle around me,
So I wouldn’t be struck again, you see?
So that If I died on that frozen road,
I wouldn’t die alone,
In the snow, my poor dead pup just inches from me,
Splattered in blood and orange juice.
So, don’t you ever tell me
That there was a BOGO, Prices Slashed,
Sticker Clearance, Black Friday, Cyber Monday,
Everything Must Go Sale on Kindness,
And we’ve nearly run out.
Not when the basic ingredient of
Being Human is still
Humanity.
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Chasing ghosts 'verse prompt if it suits you - Tasha and the boys come into possession of a box of holiday foods via the well meaning caseworker tasked with keeping track of her. Chaos ensues.
Tasha brings the box home Wednesday night. She’d borrowed Steve’s car, without asking, but also without crashing it, and picked up her own mail and packages from the common dorm where she’s actually meant to be living.
She drops it on the kitchen table, where it makes a tremendous clomping noise.
Both James and Steve turn and come her way. “Did you do that on purpose…?” Steve asks.
“No…” Tasha says. “Um. Yeah?”
James rolls his eyes and starts peeling away the plastic wrap to see what the agency’s delivered his little sister this time. Hopefully not a seasonal stuffed animal. Of the conventional choices for Thanksgiving… James doesn’t want to think about it, or the discussions it might start.
“What is it, anyway?” Steve asks, now that the shapes of boxes and cans are visible within the cardboard base.
“Eh. Foodstuffs,” James says shortly.
“Forced family mealtime togetherness trauma…” Tasha adds.
The load contains all the main ingredients for mashed potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole, mac and cheese and more, as they can be whipped into being from shelf-stable packages. There’s even a voucher for a frozen turkey.
“Wow,” Steve says, making a face that seems both impressed and concerned. He looks to James for clarification. “This is, like, an annual thing?
“Yeah,” James sighs. “For kids who have outgrown the system but are still in, they give you a boost, but don’t do it for you. Thus…” He spreads his arms. “A family’s worth of cheap groceries for one person to supposedly prep and enjoy.”
“Wow,” Steve says again.
“It’s fucking stupid.” Tasha picks at the corner of the plastic bag of mini marshmallows. They’re not even name brand. “What’re we gonna do with it?” She looks at Steve, but he’s looking at James, so she looks to James as well.
James bites his lip. Steve’s from a family that wouldn’t eat food this shitty. They’d donate it or something, which, come to think of it, might be how it came to turn up on Tasha’s doorstep. Tasha doesn’t eat, at least not in front of anybody, so he hasn’t a clue what her preferences are these days. As for himself, the army did him a solid and also bit him in the ass when they gave him standard MREs for every meal from basic through discharge. He’ll put anything in his mouth. But fake cheese poorly mixed with gluey pasta will, without a doubt, make him puke before the mess gets to his stomach.
“Keep it in the pantry, I guess?” James says, feeling uncomfortable with his sudden position of authority. “I mean, we don’t have milk and butter and, like…” He squints at a note card taped to the can of pumpkin purée, “Cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, star anise, and… I don’t even know what that says.” He pushes the paper, the can, and the prepared pie crust at Steve, then takes up the stuffing mix, which is thankfully ‘just add water.’
Tasha squashes a mini marshmallow, then places it on her tongue like a tab of LSD. “So we’re just hoarding it, then?”
“Yeah, I guess.” James shrugs. “There aren’t any plans tomorrow, except for him,” he jerks his thumb at Steve, “ making those orange juice champagne things while we watch the parade.”
“And the dog show,” Steve adds.
“There’s a dog show?” Tasha looks dumbfounded.
“Apparently,” James confirms. “And if you get hungry, we’ll make, you know, something that doesn’t require groceries that we don’t have.”
“I’m not eating any of it,” Tasha declares as she places another marshmallow on her tongue.
“Well, seeing as you don’t have a tube or a drip, you’re not required to,” James says. Then he says “Yet,” at the same time as she says “Anymore.” Steve looks at them booth suspiciously.
“Ok, this subject is dead.” James clumsily throws the plastic wrap back over the box, then heads into the living room. “And I’m putting up rules.”
Tasha turns her head sideways, marshmallow foam forming a dab on her upper lip.
“No partying— or getting stoned— until Friday night at least. And no shopping.” James nods. “Do I need to put them on the wall?”
“No,” Steve says immediately, though he had been the reason the ‘put the seat down’ sign had appeared, of all places, on the window above the kitchen sink.
Tasha gives James a long, hard, look. “Fine.”
“Hang out with us,” James says with a smile. “You don’t have to dress up. But do wear clothes, though.”
“You’re sick.”
“I’m not the one eating pure sugar on an empty stomach,” James points out.
Tasha takes the bag of marshmallows on to her room, giving her brother the finger, then a side hug as she passes by.
“That’s…”. Steve shakes his head, still confused.
“Take her as she comes. Family, I guess. Our holiday shebang looks a little different than most?”
“I like it, though. Less stress, when you get down to it. And you didn’t outlaw getting drunk. You do realize that, don’t you?”
James nods. Then shakes his head. Shrugs. “Tash is too young to drink. Besides, I want us to just be people, for once. Not, like, in chaos.”
“Given our record, I don’t know how likely that is to happen,” Steve says warningly. But then he grins. “But I’m down to try.”
“Try. Fail. Whatever.” James hangs on Steve’s arm. “Love you.”
“Love you, too. And her. And us. It’s a good mix.”
“Good,” James agrees. “Good indeed.”
#marvel#mcu#fanfic#fanfiction#angst#thanksgiving#James barnes#Bucky barnes#winter soldier#steve rogers#captain america#natasha Romanov#natasha romanoff#black widow#chasing ghosts#holiday season#drug refs#food refs#alcohol refs
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The Heartbeat
AO3: Part 14 of Days and Nights of Forever
One dark day for Corea, one terrifying day for Gon and Tae-eul, but life goes on.
When it's fate, there are no coincidences.
Directly follows
Corea News: The queen of Corea stuns in London and
Corea News: A dark day for Corea
I’m so sorry. When I dropped A Dark Day for Corea last Friday, I meant to get this done the next day and not prolong the suspense. But I underestimated it. Sunday came and went and I wasn’t done.
I spent all weekend finishing this so I couldn’t reply to you guys either. I mean, what could I say to you all wailing at me except that I’m writing, which I should DO, not say, right?
So here it is. 11,000 words. Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy.
With thanks to @collectsfallenstars and @pateetsie for support and threats and encouragements and threats and confidence and threats and all the love and swearing at me.
November was more beautiful in Corea. Perhaps it was unfair to make the comparison because Corea just happened to be closer to the tropics, closer to the sun, farther from the frozen winds of the north, but she couldn’t help it, even if she did have one sunny day in London and that was considered lucky, Elizabeth had told her, especially in November!
No, lucky was living in this beautiful country, coming home to her husband, and with the view of all these red and gold trees outside the car window.
And she had breakfast ready when she got home. She grinned. She thought about calling Gon again but he was probably busy cooking, and she didn't want him to time her arrival. She'd already ruined her own surprise by giving in and calling him earlier.
“Jangmi, did you tell your omma we’re home?”
“Ye, Mama. And she says she’s got cheonggukjang ready for us.”
Both Tae-Eul and In-Yeong said, “Oh my God.” They laughed. Jangmi’s mother’s cheonggukjang was a hit among the guards-- and the king and queen.
And after days of British food, chonggukjang would be heavenly.
“Don’t tell Ho-pil until we’ve all had some,” said In-yeong. “I don’t know how he makes it disappear so fast. Maybe he has a black hole in his stomach and he just pours it in.”
They were still laughing when Tae-Eul saw it. The other car.
It was barrelling through the left of the intersection too fast. Too fast to make the turn it should make.
And then, in contrast to that speeding car, everything else went slow.
In this slower time, Tae-Eul recognized several things.
One: Jangmi was a good defensive driver and had already slowed and stopped the car.
Two: The other car could have crossed the road, perhaps grazing their front bumper, but it could have gone past all the same.
Three: The driver of the other car was too senseless to see the opportunity Jangmi provided to avoid collision. In the grip of panic and trying to control his car, Tae-eul saw him wrenching at the steering wheel with both arms in a mindless attempt to make his turn. Even though it was too late. Even though there was no room.
Four: At that speed, at that trajectory, the other car would nosedive into the side of their car.
Tae-Eul laid both arms across her lower belly and prayed to God and the fate that brought her here. Was lashing out praying? Because she lashed out in shock and anger that this would happen to her, to Gon, their child.
Maybe God heard her, or maybe it was her mind playing tricks to help her cope-- the crash was deafening but it was like a gentle rocking when it came.
It was what happened after that was terrifying.
Tae-Eul felt her seatbelt simultaneously loosen and tighten around her. For half a second, she was buffeted bodily against nothing but air before she felt secure again. There was a terrible noise like thunder right inside her ears and something slammed onto her face, stunning as a well-placed uppercut.
She was blinded and her eyes burned.
She tried to see what had happened to Jangmi and In-Yeong but she cried out at the pain and shut her eyes tight and kept both arms over her pelvis. A firebrand shot through her left shoulder and she cried out again but she kept her arms where they were.
That was when she prayed. With her eyes watering and burning and her ears ringing, she begged to be safe.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
“How are you? It’s not too cold?”
“No. Or maybe I’m just hot. Go back to sleep. I’m going to bed, too.”
“Have you had anything to eat?”
“I had ban-ban on the plane. Go to sleep. I’ll call you when I wake up. Saranghae.”
“Saranghae.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------
“I loved the music and the story but I was honestly so sleepy. It lasted more than two hours. In-yeong had to poke me several times. I lost count after the sixth one. Stop laughing. I bet you fall asleep watching it before it even gets good.”
“Go to sleep. I’ll call you again on your morning.”
“What are you making for your breakfast?”
“Nothing special. Just eggs and tofu and I have kaktugi.”
“Mmmm. I miss that.”
“I miss you. Go to sleep.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
“Don’t worry so much. Just think of her as any old ahjumma.”
“Are you crazy? She’s the queen.”
“No, she’s not. Not to me. Not to the kingdom missing you. You’re the queen here. She’s a queen. You’re a queen. You’re equals.”
“I’m wrinkling my nose at that but I miss you. You should have come with me.”
“You said--”
“What do you want me to bring you?”
“Nothing. Just come home.”
"How cheesy."
---------------------------------------------------------------------
“How was the food?”
“Quite good. I’ve had Angus roast, fish and chips, a full English breakfast-- the sausages here are good, maybe I can bring some-- scones and clotted cream-- I need you or the cooks to learn to make that-- cottage pie, shepherd’s pie, crumpets, and this thing they call Welsh rarebit? It’s cheese and toast. And I loved the vegetables in my salads.
“And the milk and cream here--I think it tastes a little bit like Corea’s. It’s so creamy and delicately sweet.
“I love their chocolate. Cadbury’s. I think we have it at home, right? Should I order more?
“I forgot to tell you-- I almost drank alcohol at brunch when they sent more dishes and apple cider to our table with the chef’s compliments. In-Yeong thought it was juice too. They forgot I was pregnant. I was taking a sip and it didn’t smell and taste like alcohol but Elizabeth took my glass and told me it can be quite strong here.
“I can’t wait to eat ramyeon, though. And ban-ban. I’ll have them when I’m on the plane. What are you laughing at?”
“You talked for five minutes about food.”
“That wasn’t five minutes!”
“I love you. I miss you so much. I’ll see you in… sixteen hours.”
“I can’t wait.”
“To see me? Or for ban-ban and ramyeon?”
“Take a guess.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I’m here.”
“What?”
“I flew earlier. I wanted to surprise you. I’ll just drive over. Jangmi was on the phone with Yeong long before we landed so I’m sure they’ve arranged things for the escort.”
“But I was going to pick you up-- all right. I’ll see you here, then. Do you want breakfast?”
“Oh do I! I want everything. I want moo saengchae and galbi and my mouth is watering and I can’t talk anymore. Stop laughing.”
“I’ll make everything. Saranghae.”
“Nado saranghae.”
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Gon clung to her voice in his head while everything else seemed to ring and clamor in an infuriating barrage of noise.
He had been talking to her less than an hour ago.
Less than an hour ago, his only thought had been kissing his wife, making breakfast, and holding his wife, his queen, the mother of his child, the best part of his life.
Now he couldn’t get enough air. His mouth was dry and he felt like he’d be violently ill. His hands were fists on his knees and he resisted the urge to thump something.
He prayed. He listened to her voice from their last conversations together and he prayed. He sat there in the back of his car and prayed as they sped to the hospital. He begged that they weren't his last conversations with her. Begged for her safety. Her safety was his child’s. Both of them had to be safe. He begged to hear that voice again soon. Now.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yeong sat in the front seat and tried not to let his brain spirale. He needed facts, not speculations and imaginings. In his ear, he could hear his team as they kept him up to date on every minute detail. Everyone was his eyes and ears. Yeong listened and tried to stay in the present, not any horrendous future. He was trained to look ten steps ahead. But it was difficult in this case. His brain refused to catalogue the unthinkable.
The king was quiet in the back seat, still as pale as when Yeong first told him what had happened.
The queen was supposed to arrive at ten this morning. Yeong already had plans in place for the escort going to the airport and back, because the king wanted to pick up the queen.
Nine am and the PA office would have given word to the media whether or not the press could gather at the airport. Yeong had already coordinated with the airport authority for traffic and crowd control as a contingency.
He would have received a brief from the PA office and given a brief to the teams at eight-thirty.
Before seven o’clock, his phone rang. Jangmi told him the queen’s jet was already approaching Corean airspace and the early arrival was supposed to be a surprise for the king. It was testament to how much Yeong had changed-- or how much he had gotten used to the king and queen anyway-- that he didn’t even sigh. He just ended the call, made another, and deployed Ho-pil’s team to the airport in their SUVs.
At eight o’clock, Ho-Pil called him.
“Seonsaengnim. Code Orange. Collision with civilian vehicle. The queen seems to not have major external trauma. No... bleeding. En route to CorGen now. Civilian in custody. Also en route to CorGen under escort. Jang and Park also injured. En route to CorGen.”
A pause. Yeong couldn’t speak and Ho-pil seemed to be catching his breath. And Yeong stupidly waited for the punchline. That he was being pranked. Dumb and dangerous prank, but a prank all the same. But all Ho-pil said next was, “Captain, that fucker was fucking soused. I could smell him when they loaded him on the ambulance. I wish I could kill him.”
Yeong closed his eyes and tried not to close both fists. Wouldn’t do to break his phone right now. “You said she’s not bleeding?” They both knew the significance of what he meant.
“No. But after examining her for a bit, they sedated her. They said it was because she couldn’t breathe properly and her heart was already working too hard, which would be bad for both of them. She has a bad friction burn on her left cheek from the airbag. The other windows all held except Jangmi's so the queen didn’t have lacerations. In-Yeong broke her wrist. And Jangmi took a real beating. When they were getting him out, they were so careful, but he still cried out. Never heard him make that noise before. And they both couldn’t hear me, Captain.”
Yeong took a deep breath. Ho-pil’s report gave him information and time enough to get back his wits and his sense of duty. It was his queen, not his friend. Not his best friend’s wife. And he had to go tell his king, not his best friend.
“CorGen knows to keep quiet when it’s the royal family. And they know protocol. Don’t let her out of your sight.”
“Yes, Seonsaengnim. And the EMTs already called Seonsaeng Chae. I’ll call you with updates if you don’t join us first.”
Yeong hung up. He must have drooped during the call because he realized he had to square his shoulders as he went to find the king. He was almost relieved when the king wasn’t in his suite. To make things simple, he asked the control tower where the king had gone. With the queen away, he could be anywhere.
The control tower answered quickly: The kitchen.
Right. Of course. The queen had probably already called him.
When he entered the kitchen, the king was laying a slab of meat on the grill pan.
“Yeong-ah. We don’t need to leave. She’s already on her wa--”
One look at Yeong’s face and the king stopped talking. In quick, efficient movements, the king turned everything off, wiped his hands on a towel, and rounded the counter. “What happened?” His voice was clipped and dangerous.
Yeong told him. He saw the color drain from the king’s face with every word.
And then there wasn’t really anything else to say other than, “The car’s ready.”
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CorGen was used to VIPs. This hospital was where high society wanted to be treated. They had six VIP rooms and these went to ministers and their families, athletes, actors, chaebol owners, heirs and executives.
Royalty was a different level altogether. With the queen pregnant and seeing a CorGen doctor, they’ve opened the seventh VIP room. It was reserved for the royal family, always had been since the hospital opened, but the king had never used it yet in his lifetime.
While the hospital preened at the prestige of opening VIP 7 at last, no one had imagined VIP 7 would ever be needed yet.
Because the queen was only at fifteen weeks.
So when the full force of the Royal Guard arrived at the ER, there was a momentary stupefaction as if everyone was waiting for someone to tell them what to do, or to tell them it was just a tasteless, dangerous joke: it couldn’t really be the queen in that gurney.
Song-eun, arriving at the ER to attend to the queen, saw that freeze. She had frozen herself. She didn’t realize she’d stopped breathing until she exhaled when she saw the queen wasn’t bleeding. She had expected the worst.
And then everyone moved in sync.
They wheeled the queen straight to the prepared trauma room and surrounded her while the EMT and residents rattled off vitals and conditions. Airway and breathing good. Hypotensive because of vasodilation, CO at 45% higher than normal, right, they would fix that. The queen was already on oxygen and fluids. Pulse ox was stabilizing.
“Mama, I’m here. You’re with me,” Song-eun said to Tae-eul, this queen who had made Song-eun a friend, a sister. “I’m going to take care of you and the little bean.”
Sok-jun joined her with two other attendings--neuro and trauma--and they all rattled off directions to their residents and interns. One of them took samples for the trauma panel and the KB test while Song-eun assessed the queen.
“Mama, I’m going to perform a pelvic exam to check on you, okay?”
Under the sheet, her hands moving efficiently, no blood, everything normal. Good.
The queen was already in a neck brace, and she didn’t seem to have spinal injuries as the EMTs have said. The fetal HR monitor beeped steadily. Almost sixteen weeks. Could probably detect omma had been in trouble.
“Mama, you’re doing good so far. And the little bean isn’t upset either.”
Sok-jun was finished with his own examination and did FAST again even though the EMT’s already did. Song-eun scanned the monitor alongside him. No free fluid. Good. He met Song-eun’s eyes and nodded and left.
The neuro attending was already examining the queen’s eyes. Song-eun saw what he saw. “Reactive, symmetrical pupils.” Thank heavens. Good reaction to stimulus. “We can check for focal deficits later. Keep her stabilized.”
Both of Tae-eul’s eyes were red with corneal abrasion and Song-eun winced. She gestured to one of the interns to administer antibiotic eye drops.
“Get me that KB test result asap,” she said as Tae-eul got the polymyxin for her eyes and an ortho team looked at the queen’s legs, which had ugly bruises. But they were superficial. “Let’s use the Lodox right now and then take her to CT. Head and chest just to be sure." Neuro nodded. "Keep her asleep for another hour. Mom and baby are stable. Let’s keep it that way.”
She’d just only noticed and recognized Seok Ho-pil when he spoke. He had stood quietly at the door, not getting in the way, but not relenting to be pushed out either.
“Seonsaengnim, forgive me-- are all those safe for Her Majesty? The CT and the Lodox? What’s the KB test? And can she hear you? I thought she was sedated so she won’t be distressed?”
Song-eun nodded. “We talk to patients under sedation. Sometimes they can hear us. And no, she’s not in distress or in pain, don’t worry. And yes, everything’s safe. Absolutely. I want the CT of her head and chest because that’s where the airbags hit. The Lodox is a full body scan, very safe, low-dose x-ray. I don’t want to miss any injury at all. The Lodox will see if there’s any and we can determine if we need more imaging done then. The KB test is to check if and how much the baby’s hemoglobin transferred to the mother’s bloodstream and we can prevent the potential of Rhesus disease if mom and baby have different Rh blood factors.”
She looked at the rest of the Royal Guard, all listening intently. They were probably privy to the fact that the queen was a rare B negative. It was why Song-eun had been so afraid if the queen was bleeding. Only 1 in 3000 Coreans matched Tae-eul’s Rhesus negative blood. She could take O-neg, but if she needed platelets… Song-eun shuddered. At least she hadn’t slipped and informed the entire room. But the entire room would probably be under NDAs in a matter of minutes.
She could see eight guards in total, scattered in the ER lobby, gathering stares from everyone, and three had already moved ahead, probably to check the Diagnostics Room where the Lodox was.
And then suddenly there were more black suits almost completely covering up the seafoam walls of the hospital.
Song-eun stepped out of the trauma room and came face to face with the king.
She had faced her share of devastated husbands in her career and she hoped she never had to look at the king looking like that again. This was her king and her namdongsaeng and it was heartbreaking to see him so terrified.
She broke protocol and spoke first. “Pyeha, we’re still about to confirm with CT and Lodox about the queen’s injuries, but the baby seems to be fine right now and the queen has passed all tests so far. We just need to confirm and keep them both stable. We’ll do our best. We have everything we need here.”
The king didn’t speak, just stepped past her and into the room. His eyes landed on the monitors and then on the queen. Song-eun was glad everyone had been prompt and fastidious about keeping the queen under a warm sheet.
As it was, the king only saw the queen’s face, with those angry red patches on her left cheek and jaw. The king took a deep shuddering breath and released it, hands rising and fingertips pressing to his eyes.
Song-eun looked away.
She nodded to the orderlies scattered like discarded umbrellas because of the arrival of the Royal Guard. They were easy to spot in their lilac scrubs in the mass of black suits. The two closest bowed to the guards on the way, bowed to the king, bowed to the queen, and then pushed and pulled the gurney.
The king startled as if he was going to grab the gurney but stopped himself. Song-eun laid a hand on his arm, and he jumped again.
Song-eun pressed her hand on his arm more firmly. “We’re taking Her Majesty to the Lodox and then to CT. You can come with us if you like, Pyeha.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Ok-nam watched Mo Jin-ha burst into tears and wished she could just as easily let go like that. But she couldn’t, she never had, and one of these days, it might kill her, but she wasn’t going to faint this time.
Not until she heard something that would really make her faint.
“I’m sorry-- it’s just-- you know how much I struggled before I finally had Woo-jin and this is-- this is awful.”
Ok-nam patted Jin-ha on the shoulder. Poor Jin-ha had had three miscarriages. It was why she was here, crying, instead of following the king to CorGen. Woo-jin was her little miracle, but the loss of her other children still stung. Would always do.
“Hush now. Let’s wait and pray. We should hear from them any moment now. And you need to make an announcement before rumors spread.”
Jin-ha nodded, wiping tears and straightening her spine. Ok-nam turned to the two policemen who had arrived, hoping to get a statement here but instead seeing the press secretary lose the composure she was famous for.
“Drink your tea, gentlemen,” Ok-nam said. “You do have colleagues who went to the hospital?”
“Yes, ma’am. But if we could get a statement from you--when you hear from them-- then we wouldn’t need to disturb Their Majesties.”
Jin-ha gave another sob. “Oh, the poor queen. She loves that baby so much-- I hope she doesn’t--”
Ok-nam thumped a hand on her chabudai and Jin-ha and both men jumped. “Stop that,” Ok-nam said, ignoring how her heart thumped mournfully and fearfully in her chest. “Don’t think that. Don’t speak of that.”
The phone rang and they all jumped again. Ok-nam answered it just as Seung-ah arrived and knelt beside her.
“Captain Jo, what has--”
“Lady Noh. The queen is fine. No major injuries. They’re still monitoring the queen and the baby. The king is with her. They’re getting her scans.” Ok-nam closed her eyes and sagged in relief. Jin-ha gave a sob of relief and Ok-nam shushed her.
“Seung-ah has the accident footage so you can see,” Jo Yeong continued over the phone. “We’ve already released it to the police. Jangmi has a clavicle fracture and rib fractures and In-yeong has a broken wrist, three fractured fingers, bruised ribs.”
Poor Jangmi and In-yeong. “Do you-- do you have that driver?”
“Yes.” And that was all Yeong said. Ok-nam heard rage in that calm voice. She felt rage herself. “I’ve sent all information to Secretary Mo. She can make the statement at her discretion. I’ll update you.”
Ok-nam put the phone back in its cradle. Seung-ah, pale-faced and pale-lipped, raised her iPad but Ok-nam turned away.
“Are you mad? I don’t want to see it. Show it to these gentlemen.”
Jin-ha seemed to have already received the same footage and the information Captain Jo mentioned in her iPad, and judging by her gasping over the screen, Ok-nam made the right decision not to look at the footage.
“I’m going to pray.”
She took a private, empty, circuitous route so she wouldn’t trail anxious and hysterical court maids and court ladies. She had no time and no patience to comfort anyone.
In the kitchen garden amongst the onggi, her tears surprised her. She wiped them almost angrily.
There was no call for tears yet.
She bowed and prayed.
----------------------------------------------------------------
The sound is not unlike galloping horses. Maybe galloping horses on the coast, because he can also hear a swishing noise like the wind and the surf.
Tae-eul is laughing. “It’s so loud and fast! Are you crying?”
“No.” He blinks his eyes and sniffs as quietly as he can. He sees Song-eun biting her lips and looking amused as she holds the Doppler against Tae-eul’s belly.
Tae-eul squeezes his hand. He moves his eyes away from the ultrasound screen just as she also does. Their eyes meet, and his breath stutters a bit because her eyes are at their most beautiful yet since he met her.
He kisses her hand. And with their child's heartbeat drumming in the background, they grin at each other.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Gon listened to it more times than he'd admit. It was in his playlist for cooking breakfast. He even danced to it in the shower. Tae-eul had caught him at it one time and had laughed so hard and so long she had to sit on the floor.
She didn’t tease him about it, but she invariably looked at him and giggled whenever anyone brought up the baby’s heartbeat or when she listened to the file in her own phone.
He stopped the audio file and put his phone back in his pocket. The beeps of the two heart rate monitors were discordant and so different from the rhythmic gallop and swish of his baby’s real heartbeat but he let those beeps deafen him to everything else.
He kissed Tae-eul’s hand and wished her awake.
She was so pale against the cream sheets on the bed. She now had bandages over her cheek and jaw. Her eyelids were rimmed with red. Her brows were slightly furrowed. She wasn’t tranquil in her sleep.
They’d told him she wasn’t in pain. What scared him was if she was trapped in some nightmare after the terrifying experience she just went through.
It had been almost an hour or so since the tests were done. The CT and the Lodox both found a hairline fracture on her left clavicle.
They’d put her arm in a sling for that and kept her in the neck brace in case of whiplash. Everything else seemed fine. Her head, her spine. Until she woke up and complained of what else hurt, they had no way of knowing, apart from the bad bruising on her left shoulder, on her toes, and on the front of her shins when her legs might have flown and hit against the front seat.
Her blood pressure was back to normal. They’d told him she had been distressed--in the emotional term-- when the ambulance arrived, her heart rate too fast and her breathing erratic, which was why they sedated her and put her on oxygen immediately.
He just knew why she’d been so anxious and afraid.
Song-eun walked into the room and Gon blinked back the sting in his eyes. “Noona.”
“Pyeha. You know Her Majesty is Rhesus negative. We can confirm now that Little bean is Rhesus positive, just like you. We found some hemoglobin of little bean’s in the queen’s circulation so I’m giving her the RhoGAM now.”
Gon watched Song-eun administer the shot on Tae-eul’s arm.
So he saw it when Tae-eul grabbed Song-eun’s hand.
“Mama, you’re awake. How are you feeling? I just gave you a RhoGAM shot. We talked about it before.”
Gon got up and Tae-eul saw him. She let go of Song-eun and reached for him with both hands at first, but both hands went to her belly below her navel, where the fetal HR monitor’s attachments were.
The vital signs monitor made a harsh protest. Tae-eul’s heart rate was spiking.
Gon said, “Tae-eul, you’re all right, the baby’s okay.”
She looked at him and opened her mouth to speak but made an expression of pain, touched her jaw, and cried out when she discovered the raw skin of her burn there.
Gon grabbed her hands in his, looked into her eyes and said, “Tae-eul. You’re all right. The baby’s all right.”
She just looked at him as if she couldn’t understand him. And she was already crying.
Gon stared at her. Why wasn’t she-- and then it clicked. She was probably still deaf from the airbags. He looked at Song-eun and she had obviously come to the same conclusion. She tapped her ears, and then pointed and nodded at the fetal monitor, already rounding the bed to get to it herself.
Gon beat her to it. He let go of Tae-eul with one hand and reached for the fetal monitor to turn the screen toward Tae-eul. His movement was enough to make Tae-eul look in that direction, turning her head as much as she could in the brace.
Gon returned both hands to cradle hers. He bent down to press his lips against her fingertips. He could feel himself shaking with relief now that she was awake.
She looked at the fetal monitor for long moments. The vital signs monitor quieted but her crying continued. Gon bent over her and gently took her in his arms without actually lifting her up. He snaked one arm under her waist and the other arm under her side. She sobbed against his shoulder and he felt her grip the back of his pullover.
He pressed his cheek against her hair, glad she was awake, his heart breaking a little with each sob. She shouldn’t have had to go through this. This much fear. This much worry.
Her sobs slowly stopped until she was only taking deep shuddering breaths. Gon gently pulled back his arms, kissed her uninjured cheek, and wiped her eyes, careful not to actually go near her eyelids with the tissues.
Song-eun caught Tae-eul’s attention. As if she hadn’t just witnessed a breakdown, Song-eun spoke and gestured at the same time, and she enunciated carefully so that even Gon saw her words as much as heard them.
“Tae-eul. Look at me. Baby is here--” Song-eun cupped both hands low on her belly, over her pelvis. “Airbag was here--” Song-eun pointed both open palms on her shoulders and mimed the slam of the airbags over her face and shoulders with a slamming movement of her hands.
“So baby is safe. Okay?” She turned to Gon. “And your car was awesome. God. I have to get one of those.”
“I’ll buy you one,” Gon said, without taking his eyes off Tae-eul. She had calmed down, wincing and squinting with her eyes, looking between them and the fetal monitor.
Song-eun nudged him away from Tae-eul’s side and took his place, sitting beside Tae-eul’s hip and leaning forward to Tae-eul. She held up her index finger. “Follow the finger, Mama. Good. Okay. I’m going to use my light.” She shone that light in and out of Tae-eul’s eyes. Then she placed both her palms under Tae-eul’s. “Pyeha, show her to push on my hands. I saw how she gripped your sweater but I want to make sure.”
Gon mimed bearing down with his hands. Tae-eul pushed. Next, Song-eun mimed making fists with both hands. Tae-eul did that, too. Song-eun swiveled her hips on the bed so she faced the window, leaned back on her hands, and extended and raised her legs, one after the other. Tae-eul did the same.
Song-eun smiled and squeezed Tae-eul’s hands. “Good, good. Just need to wait for your ears to come back. They’ll be back in a bit. You’re good.”
Gon nudged Song-eun aside and she willingly went, smiling. He pushed the button on the side panel and raised Tae-eul’s bed gently, watching her face for any discomfort from her fracture.
Then when she was more or less sitting up, he leaned forward and hugged her as gently as he could, kissed her on the forehead and on her right cheek. He felt her arms close around his waist, and he pulled back before she tried to raise her arms higher. He didn’t want her to strain her fracture.
He enunciated like he saw Song-eun do, not exaggerated but clearly defining each syllable. “Are you all right? Does anything hurt?”
Her eyes went from his lips to his eyes. She spoke carefully now, testing how much her jaw would let her do. “Why can’t I hear you?”
Gon said, “The airbags.”
Song-eun said, “It��s temporary. Around sixteen to forty-eight hours. Is there a ringing noise?”
It took three tries before Tae-eul understood the question, then she shook her head no.
“Oh, good. I’m glad you don’t have tinnitus.” Song-eun cast another long look at the vital signs monitor, smiled at Tae-eul, retrieved the empty syringe she’d dropped when Tae-eul grabbed her, and left, saying she’ll be back later.
“Did you catch that? She said your deafness will last overnight or two days.”
Tae-eul nodded. Then she looked past him at the fetal monitor again, blinking, her eyes spilling tears. Her hands went up to her eyes and Gon stopped her hands before they made contact. She looked at him, wincing. “My eyes hurt.”
“I know. I’m sorry. That’s from the airbags, too. Here, noona gave me your eye drops.”
If she didn’t catch that, she quickly understood when he came back to her side with the bottle he’d fetched from her bedside table. Tae-eul being Tae-eul, she tried to be helpful. When she couldn’t tilt her head back at all in the neck brace, she tried anyway. “Ow.” She looked down at her shoulder and her sling as if discovering it for the first time.
Gon used her bed’s recliner and applied the eye drops.
“You have a crack on your clavicle. So don’t move your shoulder or your arms. Does your neck hurt? We’re not sure if you have some muscle strain there.”
“Will you just use your phone? Or find a pen and paper. A… a whiteboard and marker. I’m getting tired trying to read your lips.”
That return of her spirit made him smile. He put down the bottle of eye drops and started writing on her palm instead. And grinned when she also smiled.
But when he was done, her lips were trembling and her face was twisting. She reached for him without raising her hands much from her lap.
Carefully so he wouldn’t jolt her injuries, he moved forward where he sat on her right. He slid his arm around her waist and gently pulled her close. She sighed and entirely rested her right side against him.
“I can’t believe it. Just-- just my collarbone?”
He nodded. It wasn’t just her collarbone, but he could elaborate later.
“I was so scared. I thought it would be worse--”
“Me too.” He wrote the hangul on her palm.
“What about Jangmi and In-yeong?”
“They’re okay, but they have fractures. They’re in surgery to fix them.”
“Oh no. Fractures where?”
“I don’t really know yet. I’ve been with you all this time.”
“They’re going to be so frustrated,” Tae-eul said. “They’ll have to be off-duty.”
“Well, you’ll also be off-duty. You can all be off-duty together.”
“Talk again.”
“What is it?”
She pressed her hand against his chest. “I can feel your voice.”
“Oh. It’s the vibrations.”
She pressed her fingertips at his throat. “I feel your voice better here. Say something.”
“Saranghae. I was scared to death. I’m grateful you’re all right. Are you really all right?”
She nodded, eyes spilling tears again. “You and Song-eun said I am.” And her eyes flicked to the fetal monitor.
Gon sighed and held her closer.
“And you’re sure the baby’s all right? What did Song-eun say?”
This time, he took his phone out of his pocket and typed on it with his arms around her.
She said we’re lucky you’re only almost 16 weeks. The baby’s still small, and the layers of protection are thicker than if you were further along. You did have to get a RhoGAM shot now, and Song-eun says she’ll monitor the baby for Rhesus disease from now on.
Tae-eul was nodding as she read his screen. The Rhesus incompatibility situation wasn’t new to them. They’d learned about it in her first screenings.
Do you have other questions?
Tae-eul stiffened a little in his arms, and Gon thought she was finally going to ask about the driver. Gon had been trying not to think of him either. He had focused on Tae-eul, but now that she was awake and asking questions, the driver was invading his thoughts.
He still didn’t know much aside from the fact that he was completely drunk.
However, after relaxing in his arms again, Tae-eul poked the top right of his phone screen and said, “It’s almost eleven. Why am I not hungry? I haven’t eaten in twelve hours.”
Gon exhaled a laugh. He kissed her hair. He loved this woman. He typed, You ate at eleven pm?
“Don’t go there.”
Still smiling, he typed, I think they gave you something in your IV so you won’t feel acidic and hungry in case you stayed asleep longer. And they gave you vitamins and other essentials. I’ll go ask if you can eat.
He gently maneuvered her back onto her bed. She sighed against her pillow and then looked at the fetal monitor again. Her eyes suddenly went droopy, and Gon knew her adrenaline spike after waking up had worn off now that she knew their baby was safe. And her eyes were probably tired anyway. With her corneal abrasions, sleeping would do her good.
“Hold off on the food,” she said as she closed her eyes. “But get me my kalbi.”
Gon pushed the bed’s button again and put the bed back in full recline. He pressed a kiss on her forehead, and then on her lips, lingering there for several long moments. He loved her, he had missed her, and today he’d nearly lost her.
When they parted, she said, “Saranghae.”
“Nado.”
He didn’t leave her, of course. Gon dropped on the armchair and took several deep breaths, exhaling quietly. His relief sent him doubling over, elbows on his knees, and he thanked God over and over. A litany of Gamsahabnida.
Then he leaned back on the armchair and just looked at her. Now her face no longer looked pinched, as if she was truly sleeping now. Once he was sure she was in deep sleep, Gon hit 3 on his phone.
“Yeong. Ask Dr Chae if Tae-eul can eat. She’s asleep now but she asked about food.”
“Ye, Pyeha.” And before Gon could ask, Yeong added, “My report is in the Drive. I have a lead so I’m about to leave, Pyeha. We’ll continue updating the doc.”
“All right. Thank you.”
Gon took a deep breath and navigated to the Drive. He wasn’t about to leave Tae-eul’s side and Yeong couldn’t deliver the report personally, so this Drive folder, usually for documentation only and something Gon had never looked at, came in handy.
He saw the thumbnail of the footage and his jaw clenched. As king and sovereign justice, he had to watch it.
He watched Jangmi approach the intersection defensively, not crossing it even with the light on green because of that suspicious oncoming white car from the left.
He watched the white car barrel through the intersection-- other cars swerving to a halt.
He watched his wife’s car stop beyond the path of the white car, just like all other cars had done.
He watched the white car swerve for no reason at the last second and ram into his wife’s car, even though practically all the cars had given it a clear path across.
He watched it twice and closed the video before his blood boiling made him throw his phone at the wall.
He could feel his jaw trembling with rage and he swore under his breath to release some of his anger. It made him feel dirty even though Tae-eul was asleep and couldn’t have heard him. He rubbed his hands over his face and looked at Tae-eul, letting the sight of her calm him.
He opened the report next. Aside from details that he already knew, like the time and location of the collision, and Tae-eul’s condition at the time of the ambulance response, it now included photos of Jangmi’s and In-yeong’s x-rays and Yeong’s notes.
Jang Mi-reuk:
lacerations on the face, neck and arm (left)
Type 1 distal clavicle fracture (left)
Type A oblique rib fractures (left posterior 4th, 5th and 6th ribs)
Type B transverse rib fracture (left posterior 7th rib)
30% pneumothorax (left lung)
severe bruising on the left side
sensorineural hearing loss and tinnitus (prognosis: temporary)
Park In-yeong:
bruised ribs (left)
distal radius fracture (right)
displaced, mid-shaft and intra-articular fractures of the phalanges (left little finger, ring finger and middle finger)
sensorineural hearing loss (prognosis: temporary)
Gon was glad Jangmi wasn’t worse. He was the only one on the left side of the car, the side of the collision. The other car had rammed the queen’s car a little behind Jangmi’s seat, and even with the car’s airbags and collision safety technology, look at all those broken bones. And his lung had collapsed.
Yeong’s report says they didn’t know how exactly In-yeong broke her wrist and fingers. Probably from slamming them against something during the crash.
Damn. And it was In-yeong’s right wrist. She wouldn’t be able to shoot a gun for weeks. The little crack shot wouldn’t like that.
The next page was about the driver.
Gon read it all but the only thing that stood out was the blood alcohol concentration. The driver weighed 160 pounds with .25 BAC.
That was beyond driving under the influence. Influence was about a quarter of the man’s blood alcohol level. What the driver did was practically--
Gon’s brain supplied manslaughter. He closed his eyes. No one had died. But someone could have. Someone could have. And if Gon hadn’t bought the safest car in the world, or if Jangmi simply chose any of the other cars in the fleet, where would Gon be right now?
---------------------------------------------------------------
“SPEAK UP! I ASKED YOU WHAT HAPPENED TO THE QUEEN AND YOU HAVE TO ANSWER ME!”
Ho-pil gestured to Dong-min and ran to VIP 6, the VIP room where he could hear Jangmi bellowing. He found the man shouting at his nurse from his bed by the window.
On the other bed, In-yeong was awake and looking mournful. When she saw Ho-pil, she said, “I can’t hear it but it’s hurting my eardrums. How’s the queen?”
Ho-pil gave her two thumbs up. Queen was okay. Baby was okay. In-yeong sighed and then winced when that action jogged her ribs.
Ho-pil marched over to Jangmi, who was still bellowing like a wounded bull.
He was a wounded bull. His face, neck and arms were bandaged, his torso was bandaged and in thick braces. He also had a bandage over his clavicle where his surgery incision was. His left arm was in a sling secured with straps to keep his shoulder immobile.
When he saw Ho-pil, he stopped shouting. But he was still yelling. Ho-pil winced. “Sunbaenim. How’s the queen?”
Ho-pil repeated the two thumbs up that worked with In-yeong.
Jangmi burst into tears.
“Should I have moved the car and tried to avoid it? It happened so fast. I should have done something.”
Ahh shit. Poor Jangmi. Ho-pil pulled out his phone and typed rapidly.
You did exactly what I would have done if I’d been the one at the wheel. This wouldn’t have happened if that other bastard wasn’t blind drunk. The queen is fine. She has a clavicle fracture like you, but not as bad. And there’s something about her getting the Rhesus injection thing because she has that rare negative blood type and the baby’s a positive. Don’t terrorize your nurses. They’re the ones who’ll give you food and pain meds.
He showed the screen to Jangmi and the great bull calmed down with every word, and then turned sheepish by the end.
“I’m sorry, sunbaenim. Thank you. But I still want to apologize to the queen. Can we see the queen?”
Ho-pil mouthed, “Can you get up?”
“Sure, if you help me.”
“I’ll help you later. Rest for now. I think Their Majesties will let us know if they want to see--”
Dong-min pounded on the open door and waved frantically at Ho-pil. “Seonsaengnim, the king wants--”
And then the king himself stepped into the room.
They all bowed their heads. Not just out of respect. The king looked murderous. For some reason, Ho-pil had a flashback he couldn’t identify because he had never seen the king like this before, but his mind told him the king was dangerous when he looked like this.
And contrary to Jangmi, the king spoke in quiet, precise syllables that made the hair on Ho-pil’s neck rise.
“Sub-captain Seok. Captain Jo is already investigating that man.” Ho-pil heard disgust and knew the king wanted to call the man something else. Ho-pil already did in his own head. “He has a lead somewhere else. Now I want information on where that man drank all night. If it was an establishment, the owner, and the staff who served him. If it was a private party, who he was with. Call his employers or his employees.”
“Ye, Pyeha. His family, too?”
“We already know his family. Captain Jo sent it in. In any case, I don’t want testimony from anyone who might beg for him not to die.”
“Ye, Pyeha.”
With a nod toward In-yeong and Jangmi, the king left.
They waited ten seconds, and then In-yeong and Jangmi asked him what the king said. Ho-pil typed it on his phone and showed it first to In-yeong, and then to Jangmi.
In-yeong had just looked vindictive. Jangmi spoke their thoughts aloud. Real loud.
“HOLY SHIT.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
A loud, grinding noise and the crash of metal against metal.
The piercing shatter of glass breaking. The explosive full blast of airbags. Brakes squealing.
Pain and burning on her eyes, her shoulder, her legs, everywhere. She struggled to part her eyelids but they wouldn’t cooperate beyond a small squint. She couldn’t see Jangmi and In-yeong at all.
She couldn’t hear anything either.
Someone was lifting her and she told them to be careful, she was pregnant, but if they heard her she had no idea-- she knew she was speaking but the way she heard herself was different. Was she dead and was it this quiet when you were dead?
She couldn’t be dead-- she was going to have a baby. And Gon would be devastated. No, no.
Suddenly, her eyes were open and she saw the car coming again as if to finish the job now that the paramedics had brought her out of the shelter of the car.
Determined that it wouldn’t get her this time, she struggled against the paramedics and ran with all her might away from them all, away from that car.
But it still hit her and she felt that gentle and violent rocking again.
It made her ill.
Suddenly, she realized she really was throwing up over a basin. Her eyes were really open. When she was done, she could see beyond the basin and her sheets. Cream sheets and blankets now being gently and efficiently changed around her by court maids in their familiar uniform. Leaf green walls and cream paneling and a big glass window showing the dimming light of sunset.
She was in a hospital room, not a highway full of stopped traffic and one murderous car.
Something cool and comforting was being pressed against the right side of her face. Comforting in contrast to the dull ache she felt in her legs and feet, her shoulder, her face. Everything hurt.
Gon was beside her. He was the one holding the basin and the towel against her cheek. When he saw she was really done being sick, he passed the basin to a court maid, wiped Tae-eul’s mouth with the towel, and offered her a glass of water with a straw.
Tae-eul sipped water and swallowed it with some difficulty past the sobs building in her chest and throat. She held off as long as she could, but they came out anyway.
When she woke up this morning, she had cried with relief. She had been so afraid, so sure that she was about to be told she was no longer-- but then she felt the attachments on her belly and saw the fetal monitor and-- she cried with relief.
Right now, she was crying from residual terror. She had been a detective. She knew what this was. Only, she had known and seen it happen to others. In colleagues, in witnesses, in suspects.
Now she knew what it was like. And her detective’s brain tried to feed her with facts to ease her anguish. She focused her eyes on the fetal monitor. Her baby was fine. She was fine. She couldn’t hear but she was fine. She was in the hospital. She cracked her collarbone. But she was fine. The car hadn’t hurt her. Hadn’t hurt them.
Gon was real, his arms around her, his hand stroking her hair soothingly, and his breath against her ear.
The sick feeling in her stomach receded. Her heart slowed down. She clung to Gon’s arm and let herself fall back against him, on the familiar shelter of his shoulder.
She pressed her lips together to close her mouth and stop crying. There was no need to carry on like this. She looked at Gon, drank him in with her eyes, and let that gaze and that nose and those lips and that jawline blot out the last vestiges of that car from behind her eyelids.
But it frustrated her that she couldn’t hear his voice. She could feel his chest rumbling softly and his lips moving against her forehead but she heard nothing.
He brought his face close to hers, gently tilting her chin so she could see him. She focused on his lips as they moved. “You’re all right. I’m here. Are you all right?”
She nodded and shook her head. “Everything hurts.”
Gon’s mouth curved down. “I’m sorry. Your medication should take effect soon. Noona gave you another dose some time ago. You’ll be fine.”
She nodded, raising her right hand to cradle his neck. When he spoke again, she felt it against her palm. “Do you want to tell me about it? What woke you up? Was it the accident?”
She nodded again. “Just… I saw it all over again. And everything I heard then. I wish I could hear something else to push it out of my head.”
Gon pulled some tissues from the box on her bedside table and gently dabbed at her cheeks, careful not to make contact with her eyes.
He said, “I could sing to you. Maybe only feeling the vibrations on my throat would make it sound better.”
She caught all that from reading his lips and it made her smile. “Go on.”
And Gon sang. An English song he’d heard her alternately sing and hum. It was like a lullaby. Soft, comforting, the notes rising and falling in smooth harmony. She could hear the song in her head, and her mind added the tune to Gon’s voice vibrating against her palm, drowning out that awful screech of metal.
“Moon river,
wider than a mile,
I’m crossing you in style some day.”
Her stomach chose that moment to grumble.
Gon stopped singing and looked at her. “I know I can’t sing as well as you, but that was rude.”
Tae-eul laughed.
“Come on. Let’s get you fed. You’ve had nothing but liquid nutrition all day.”
As if listening for this, another court maid came in and laid a tray on the bed. Then she placed and uncovered a black and gold ceramic dosirak on top of it. Tae-eul smelled kimchi and kalbi and her mouth watered.
Gon picked up the tray and placed it over her lap. She opened her mouth and he chuckled, taking a little bit of everything into a spoonful and bringing it to her mouth.
“Good?”
“Really good. Did I lose my phone?”
Gon nodded. “It was on the seat behind Jangmi. Why?”
“Give me your phone.”
She didn’t even have to navigate much. The file she wanted was on the homescreen. She played it at maximum volume. Nothing.
She sighed.
“You remember how it sounds, though, right?” Gon asked.
Oh, she did. But she wanted to hear it, not remember it.
She wanted that heartbeat to assure her, distract her, make her feel safe and happy again. And Gon’s voice. She needed his voice, too.
They both ate the dosirak without talking much, both of them retreating inside their own heads, and then Gon helped her wash her face-- with wipes-- and brush her teeth-- with a basin.
Maybe her pregnancy-safe painkillers still had narcotic side-effects, or maybe she was just tired out from everything. She drowsily played with Gon’s hand in her lap.
She decided she couldn’t put it off any longer. “Gon. The driver.”
He looked at her, and his gaze was still the same whenever he looked at her, but she saw the fury there, the hard and unforgiving glint.
“Tell me about the driver.”
He took his hand from hers, navigated his phone, and gave it to her with the document open.
She scrolled past Yeong’s notes on her condition, on Jangmi’s and In-yeong’s, her heart squeezing at their injuries, and then there he was. His driver’s license. Kim Ae-go, 1977 08 29, Gijang-gun.
The report had been updated an hour ago with priors. Several counts of DUI and possession, the first one when he was 16. When he was 19, he had crashed his car into a house, killing a cat and her four kittens. The case was settled. When he was 24, he had hit a 15-year-old kid on a bike and the kid was paralyzed from the waist down, but the case was settled. Five years later, he was tried for vehicular manslaughter-- a 17-year-old girl and her 10-year-old sister were killed-- but was acquitted.
“I can’t believe this.”
Gon looked at her, that glint in his eyes sharper now.
“This... this son of a bitch is a menace.”
Gon blinked.
“Well, now that he has endangered the bloody queen and the heir, he has no chance of being acquitted, has he? You can even behead him.” She slammed his phone down on the bed.
Gon stared at her, his eyes flickering between her and the vital signs monitor.
“What? I suppose we can’t have him beheaded just because I was the one attacked this time. He should have been punished long ago. Just… just get him imprisoned for life. No parole.”
In response, Gon’s hand came to cradle her uninjured cheek, and then he was kissing her, pressing and stroking her lips with his, taking her lower lip in his mouth, pulling on it and teasing it with his tongue.
Then he just lingered there with their lips brushing while they both breathed each other’s air. His eyes stared into hers, and the glint was still there, but it was a different kind.
He kissed her again, just a quick but still persistent kiss, and then withdrew.
He took his phone from where she’d slammed it on her bed covers-- now the silk from the palace-- and typed on it. He showed her the screen.
I wanted him beheaded. But I suppose life imprisonment is more appropriate so he can properly reflect and pay for his sins. He’s already under lock and key in the hospital. No chance of being acquitted, no. And yes, life with no parole.
Get better soon, my queen. I missed you. And I love you when you’re bloodthirsty.
She didn’t quite slam his phone down on the bed again, but it was still close. She felt ridiculous about it and glared at him.
He was laughing as he pushed the button on her bed.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Gon was shaken, however. He watched Tae-eul asleep in the glow of the lamps, her face golden and beautiful and angelic. Was this Tae-eul’s purpose in his world? Not just a queen but a trap for pests?
He opened his phone and tapped their favorite audio file almost automatically. The volume was still on the last setting by Tae-eul-- maximum-- and he didn’t lower it. He let it wash over him.
It sounded like how his heart thundered in his ears that morning-- just that morning-- when Yeong told him Tae-eul had been in a car crash.
It also sounded like a drum roll before an announcement. What would he announce? That the queen was taking a leave of absence? Could he send her--ask her--to stay in the republic and hope she was safe there?
He grimaced at the stupidity and futility of that thought.
His phone buzzed in his hand. It was Yeong.
“Pyeha. I’m coming to your room and I’ll stay with the queen.”
“Why?”
“He’s awake. He remembers everything. And the Minister of Finance is here.”
----------------------------------------------------------------
Ok-nam saw the sickle moon again in her dream. And just like before, it turned into a brilliant sun.
She didn't know why that thrilled her and assured her but it did.
She was just about to happily sink further in her dream and sleep when she felt herself being pulled to wakefulness.
It was the phone. She answered it and heard the king’s voice just as what happened that day hit her.
"How are you? Have they told you everything?"
"Pyeha. How is the queen?"
"Better. She's fine. They're both fine." Ok-nam sighed. "Lady Noh. Should one punish severely or well?"
Ok-nam didn’t even have to think about it. “Do both. Always.” She dipped her head with emphasis even though the king, her little boy, couldn’t see her. “This is how you make things right. This is how you inspire other people to also always make things right.”
“Hmm. You and your punishments that involve three generations.”
Ok-nam raised her eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t really do that! You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do. Thank you.”
---------------------------------------------------------------
The Minister of Finance was prostrate before the king.
This day was just full of surprises. Ho-pil had just arrived back at the hospital to make a report to the king when Captain Jo asked him to escort the minister to VIP 5. Ho-pil balked at that, disgusted that the minister and his asshole son were in the VIP wing right alongside the queen, but Yeong told him the entire VIP wing was currently occupied by the Royal Court.
True to the Captain’s word, VIP 5 was empty.
It seemed to be under renovation. Bare walls. With the minister prostrating on the bare floor.
“Pyeha, I beg your forgiveness. I am horrified at what has occurred. At what my son did. My entire family deserves to die.”
The minister was a spry seventy-four year old that Ho-pil had admired. But the man had aged since Ho-pil had last seen him. He felt almost sorry that the son’s sins were being visited on the father. Almost. Because the father had sins himself, didn’t he?
The king, standing tall with the minister at his feet, spoke in his quiet way. No fury this time, but it still made Ho-pil swear he’d never do anything to warrant the king speaking to him in that tone.
“I am not going to make accusations, Minister. But your son has been endangering people for more than two decades. He has even killed two girls. He was acquitted. With his priors, the acquittal seems impossible until one looks at the family he belongs to.
“What do you hope to obtain?”
“Our lives. We deserve to die but please let my family live, Pyeha. I will accept all other punishments I deserve.”
The king replied without pause. “So be it. You are henceforth stripped of your title and ministership. You and your wife are banished from Corea. Your son will be tried and imprisoned the maximum sentence. As I’m the sovereign justice, and this time the case is right before my eyes and I hope I’m no longer an inadequate teenaged monarch, I can assure you your son will die in incarceration. Is that to your satisfaction?”
The minister lowered his head further on the floor. “Pyeha-- my parents-- they’re the ones who coddled the boy. I humbly suggest the punishment extend to them.”
“Very well. I trust your word. They will join you in exile. None of you are allowed to set foot in the kingdom. Not even to die here.”
“Thank you for your mercy. Thank you for sparing my children and grandchildren, Pyeha.”
If the father impressed Ho-pil, the son disgusted him.
The king didn’t even bother to speak to the gibbering man. What a fucking cockroach, begging for forgiveness without acknowledging his actions. The king entered his room, looked at him, and just seemed to tune him out when he began talking.
And when Ho-pil told the king that the cockroach had thrashed the server who had confiscated his car keys, Ho-pil saw the king’s hand clench at his side.
Ho-pil was sure that if the Four Tiger Sword had been at the king’s hip in its scabbard, he would have slit the man’s throat.
But aside from that small movement anyone untrained would have missed, the king didn’t even flinch as they left the room.
“Add that to his charges. And place the server in protective custody. I think Captain Jo already made contact with the family of the girls and they’re under our protection as well. Cut off all communication channels of the Kim family until and after the four senior Kims are exiled.”
“Ye, Pyeha.” His investigation had told him as much. The old Kim patriarch had a long reach without having to step outside his villa. It was just unlucky for the old man he was now standing toe to toe with the king.
“Sub-captain Seok, please inform Secretary Mo that if there are other cases like this that have escaped my notice, I want them all at my desk by Friday next.”
Ho-pil stood tall and took immense pride in saying, “Ye, Pyeha.”
----------------------------------------------------------------
The guards at the door of VIP 7 were instead standing near VIP 6. Gon heard the din of raised voices as he stepped past them. The guards had stepped away so they wouldn’t hear. What on earth--
As he stopped at the door, he heard Tae-eul’s voice clearly, and it stunned him because for a moment, he thought she was talking to him.
“And do you think the republic has force fields that prevent a car crash? I could have a car accident there, too.”
Then Yeong spoke. “What if you had died? What if the baby--”
“Don’t think that. I didn’t die. I didn’t lose--”
“Are you going to look at death every day? I thought it was over.”
“Why do you always make me talk in cliches? We do look at death every day. Anything can happen to anyone at any time.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t see it. You were used today to finally catch that man. You saw his records. Once he slammed into YOUR car, there was no hope for him. His entire family’s power gone just like that because he happened to crash into the queen this time. That was unnecessary. That was senseless. The king would have caught on to him sooner or later. But look what happened. And because you and I both know you’ve been put here on purpose, aren’t you a little suspicious? Aren’t you even a little afraid?”
“Of course I’m afraid. I’m terrified. But there are things you fight and stay for even when you’re afraid. You know that.”
Gon had felt his stomach drop at Yeong’s words, and then Tae-eul’s just knocked the wind out of him. Yeong didn’t answer, so Gon opened the door. He found them on opposite ends of the room, Tae-eul in bed and Yeong standing at the window.
Both of them looked impassive, although Tae-eul’s visible cheek was flushed.
“Did I interrupt something?”
Yeong said, “No.” Tae-eul just sighed.
Gon knew that no matter how tenacious she was, what Yeong said had bothered her. Of course, it would.
To his surprise, Yeong spoke up.
"I'm worried about you. Both of you. If something happens to either of you, I'm the one who'll be left with the pieces. I’m meant to protect you. Why else do I remember everything? But how can I protect you from something like this? I’m powerless and useless.”
Gon took a deep breath and spoke of the realization that had come to him between his call to Lady Noh and his audience with the ex-minister. “Something or someone else will prove powerful and useful then, Yeong-ah.”
Yeong scowled at him.
“It’s a balance. How do you think I felt this morning? I was king but what good was that when Tae-eul was in a car crash? But that car proved powerful and useful. Jangmi’s defensive driving ended up powerless and useless but that car protected them, didn’t it?”
Yeong turned his head to the side, his gesture of thinking over what Gon said.
“I was thinking like you earlier. It crossed my mind that maybe I could ask her to stay in the republic. But like she told you, that didn’t make sense. And when I found out about that man’s family, everything made sense. You said I could have caught on to him sooner or later-- but can you think of any other circumstance where he would have been trapped so cleanly without escape?”
Yeong scowled and sighed. Tae-eul said, “I think that’s the longest he explained something without a math reference, don’t you?”
Yeong sighed again, but this one sounded amused, and the look he gave Tae-eul was full of exasperation. Something Gon was familiar with because it had been directed at him for dec--
Gon snapped his head to Tae-eul. “You heard me?”
Tae-eul grinned and tapped her right ear. “Loud and clear. Ever since Yeong came in and woke me up.”
“I didn’t wake you up. You were already awake.”
“What about your left ear?”
“Still fuzzy. I think because it got the brunt from all the airbags and the… the crash.”
“It will come back. I’m glad you can hear again.”
“Me, too. Give me your phone.”
Gon smiled, moving eagerly toward her, and Yeong did the same, toward the door. “I’ll see myself out. I don’t like being in the room when you two start smiling like that.”
Gon clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry too much. Live for today.”
Yeong just gave him a side-eye. “Tell yourself that, too.”
Gon nodded. “I do. Everyday.”
------------------------------------------------------------
Tae-eul watched the two best friends exchange words--too soft for her to hear-- before Yeong made it out the door. When she was out of here, she was going to send Yeong and Seung-ah to Jeju or Pyeongchang so he could decompress.
Maybe they could all go as a treat to the entire guard while Jangmi and In-yeong were recovering.
Gon gave her his phone, kissed her, and then retreated to the en suite. She heard him at the sink, brushing his teeth, the clink of the water glass against the counter, and then the gentle thump and soft buzz of his luggage as he opened zips and probably got his pajamas.
There was the faint noise of the shower door sliding on its track, once, twice, and then the muffled cascade of the shower running.
She listened to every little noise. She thought she even heard the soft hum of his electric razor. Even the soft slap of his hands as he applied aftershave. It made her smile.
And then she heard the shift of the sound of his footsteps from tile to carpet, and when she opened her eyes, he was watching her from the side of the bed.
“I thought you’d have it in full volume but I came out to absolute quiet.”
Tae-eul snorted. “You don’t know absolute quiet. And I was waiting for you.”
He smiled and helped her move on the semi-double bed to make space for him. It might be a VIP room but the bed still couldn’t be too big to hinder patient treatment. She made sure the space was big enough for Gon to lie on his back rather than on his side all night.
He laid down on his side, however, with his arm over her waist and under her sling, kissing her temple and her cheek.
She squeezed his arm with her left and then she tapped play on their favorite audio file.
Tae-eul closed her eyes and listened to it. Then she remembered Gon dancing to this and giggled. She turned the volume loud and then softer, and the little bean’s heartbeat remained steady and strong.
This was what she’d wanted to hear all day, what she’d known she would hear soon when she’d heard the soft click of the door after Yeong had entered and it latched closed.
So when Yeong had seen she was awake and started talking about his fears, she had been calm and peaceful, with her faith a solid presence in her mind and heart, all because she had known she was about to hear this heartbeat again.
She felt Gon’s thumb swipe at her cheek. “Do you hear any difference?”
She didn’t open her eyes but she tilted her head a little. Gon’s voice was another thing. “Hmm?”
“This is from today.”
“What?”
“This is the little bean at fifteen weeks, not at twelve weeks.”
Tae-eul smiled and laughed a little. “Really? I don’t hear any difference, do you?”
“No. It’s like nothing happened.”
Tae-eul chuckled. “Like nothing happened.”
___________________________________________
Question/reader reaction to A dark day for Corea: WHY DID I DO THIS?! WHYYY!
Answer: You know that sweet pregnancy trope where they listen to the baby's heartbeat? I wanted it in a flashback in a currently bleak scene.
And this is what came to me. I did my research and I kept finding things to support what I wanted to do, like the new Mercedes Benz S-class 2021 (to be released in September), the loss of hearing from airbags, and so many other bits. I loved it.
I did drop Corea News ahead so I’d be committed to seeing this through.
I almost paid for subscription to a medical procedures journal, but I did find specific answers for free. The key is to ask specific questions lol.
If I got anything wrong, forgive me. I could have asked medical people around me, but I’m shy and writing is solitary.
FACT: Rhesus negative blood is RARE in Asia. There was a sad news item in Korea where a man died because he needed platelets and couldn’t find enough donors. He had B-negative blood.
All right, let me know what you think. Please drop a line, thank you! :)
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character stats
tagged by @noonvvraith ♥
tagging @rkyloren @thalasians @bleden-mark @regongars @catacomb-chaos @josephseeds-rosary @arlathen & u!
face claim: yvonne logan
name: morwen enid aep dilwyn
age: 30
height: 179 cm
species: aen seidhe elf
gender: cis female
birthday: 10th may
sun sign: taurus
residence: none (later owns a little cabin in the woods with iorveth🥺)
marital status: in a relationship
alignment: chaotic neutral
drink: cintrian faro
food: strawberry pie
day or night: day
snacks: dried fruits and nuts
pets: a horse
color: red
flower: red yarrow
sexuality: bisexual
body type: slim/athletic
eye color: olive green
hair color: blonde
face claim: -
name: alva lavellan
age: 24 in da:i / 26 in trespasser
height: 164 cm
species: elf
gender: cis female
birthday: 5 parvulis
sun sign: gemini
residence: skyhold, now unknown
marital status: in a relationship, it’s complicated
alignment: chaotic good
drink: apple juice
food: biscuits & dalish deep forest comfort
day or night: day
snacks: raw honey
pets: several harts, a nug
color: purple
flower: dandelion
sexuality: straight
body type: slim
eye color: orange & purple
hair color: black
face claim: beata v
name: nerida
age: 4160+
height: 209 cm
species: snow elf
gender: cis female
birthday: 16 hearthfire
sun sign: virgo
residence: the chantry of auri-el
marital status: widowed
alignment: true neutral
drink: tea
food: night corn salad
day or night: night
snacks: frozen blueberries
pets: a horse, an owl, couple dragons...
color: white
flower: sage
sexuality: straight
body type: slender
eye color: white
hair color: white
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OneHundredFiftyFive
Breakfast!
1.) Have you ever eaten a “balanced breakfast” like they show in cereal commercials (I.E., bowl of cereal, fruit, glass of orange juice)?
Yes, but not often
2.) When’s the last time you made someone breakfast?
Can’t remember, it’s been a long time
3.) What’s your favorite cereal?
Frosted Flakes
4.) What’s the highest calorie, most terrible for you breakfast you’ve ever had?
Eggs Benedict with extra hollandaise with side of biscuits and gravy!
5.) Would you rather get breakfast from McDonald’s or Burger King?
McDonalds
6.) Waffles or pancakes?
Ugh, I love both of them but I’m more into waffles right now
7.) Eggs or cereal?
Eggs
8.) Milk or orange juice?
Milk
9.) PopTart or Toaster Strudel?
Toaster Strudel
10.) Do you even eat breakfast?
Not very often, more likely on the weekend than during the week
11.) Do you take vitamins with your breakfast?
No
Lunch!
1.) When do you usually eat lunch?
One
2.) Did you get notes from your parents in your lunch when you were little?
Yes
3.) If you had one, what did your lunch box look like?
I started buying my lunch around middle school so I don’t remember any I had in elementary school
4.) What’d you have for lunch today?
Chipotle
5.) Do you like to go out for lunch? Where?
I love going out. Wherever is good with me, I’m not picky
6.) Do you have/want any cute sandwich cutters? (They decrust your sandwich into a shape)
Yes, I have one that makes them into uncrustables
7.) Do you sit with/meet with anyone for lunch often?
No
8.) Have you ever had a peanut butter and butter sandwich, or does it sound appealing at all?
No, and eh not really
9.) Is your lunch usually a hot food or a cold food?
Truly a mix of both
10.) Has the word “lunch” been repeated so many times it’s a meaningless word by now?
No?
Dinner!
1.) Do you follow the health rule of having a small dinner and big breakfast?
No, I do the opposite
2.) Do you ever say a prayer before eating dinner?
No
3.) What’s your favorite take out dinner, if you have one?
Pizza
4.) Have you ever been taken out to a nice restaurant for a dinner date?
Yes
5.) Did you grow up eating dinner with your family? How do you think that affected you?
Yes, every night. It was nice, always up to date with what was going on with everyone
6.) Do you have “nice” dinner plates for special occasions?
No
7.) Do you ever eat frozen dinners?
Yes
8.) What dinner foods can you cook?
A handful of good pasta dishes, fajitas, breakfast for dinner lol
9.) White or red meat (or their vegetarian substitute counterparts)?
I like both
10.) Soup or salad?
Salad
Dessert!
1.) Do you ever get dessert at a restaurant when they ask?
Almost never, I’m always too full to make it to dessert
2.) Is there a dessert food most people like that you hate?
Hmm not really
3.) Cupcakes or real cake?
Cupcakes
4.) Ice cream or pie?
Pie
5.) What kind of birthday cake (or other sweet birthday type thing) do you usually get?
Double Chocolate
6.) What was your favorite childhood birthday cake?
Ice cream cake
7.) Do you have a favorite foreign (to a Westerner, anyway :P) desserts? (Baklava, biscotti, churros…)
Yes, churros, baklava and cannolis I love!
8.) Do you bake sweets? Which are you best at?
Not really often
9.) Have you ever had a good “diet” dessert, like something endorsed by Weight Watchers? What was it?
I’m actually on WW now. I love chocolate graham crackers with frozen cool whip in the middle, a play on the ice cream sandwich. 3 point dessert!
10.) What’s your dream dessert?
Crepe with strawberries and melted chocolate chips
11.) Do you watch shows like Cake Boss or Cupcake Wars?
No
Snacks!
1.) What’s the best candy in the world?
Frozen Snickers Almond
2.) Do you eat more snacks or full meals?
Meals
3.) Is there anything you find yourself eating when you’re bored?
Chips
4.) Do drinks with calories count as a snack?
I guess, I don’t drink anything that’s not water very often
5.) What’s your favorite food that’s usually served at parties?
Buffalo dip or rye boat dip
6.) Do you eat in class? If so, what is it, usually?
I’m not in school
7.) Honestly, are your snacks healthy or bad for you?
All depends what it is
8.) Potato chips or trail mix?
Potato chips
9.) What do you usually get at the movie theater?
Nothing, place is overpriced af
10.) Did you get fruit snacks with your favorite character on them when you were little?
Yes and gushers lol
11.) Do you remember any sayings from conversation hearts? Which is your favorite?
No lol
Food in general!
1.) Do you buy generic brand food?
Yeah, about half the time
2.) Is there a common food you find repulsive?
Beans
3.) What’s your favorite “ethnic” cuisine?
Indian
4.) If you were stranded in a zombie apocalypse with only a full, run-of-the-mill and full-of-junk vending machine for food, which items would you eat first?
Candy bars
5.) Are you a candy fanatic?
I can be
6.) Do you like any weird food combinations?
Mac and cheese with applesauce to dip
7.) Are there any foods you shouldn’t eat because of your religion?
No
8.) Would you eat a bug if it was covered in your favorite food?
Only for money lol
9.) Do you think being a vegan would be/is really hard?
I think so
10.) Do you eat in the car?
Not often
11.) Do you pay attention to serving sizes?
I have lately
12.) Fruit or vegetables?
Veggies
13.) Mustard or ketchup?
Ketchup
14.) Does mayonnaise disgust you?
No
15.) What’s your favorite holiday, in terms of the food you get to eat during it?
Thanksgiving
16.) Are you hungry? (: What do you plan on eating next?
Nope its 6, already ate at 4. Probably just a snack before bed. Chocolate graham crackers
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On the way home, Plush starts to melt in Henry's arms, panic ensues.
Looks like they’re headed back to Joey’s.
Here’s the last good end story.
—————————————————————
Halfway back to Henry’s house, Plush began to melt.
Henry had been rather concerned when he heard Henry Jr. and Photo start to scream in the backseat. So much so he’d nearly pulled over the car right then and there.
“What’s going on?” Henry asked. “Why are you screaming?”
“Plush is melting!” Photo yelled.
Everyone in the back seat was thrown forward as Henry slammed on the brakes. He then immediately turned the car around and headed back to Joey’s apartment.
In the back seat, Photo was holding Plush to his chest as his body began to melt, the ink sloughing off of him in waves. Henry Jr. was frozen in his own seat, eyes wide as he beheld the horrifying sight in front of him. It was disturbing even for those who were used to it, and Henry Jr. was most certainly not used to it.
Henry Jr. hadn’t gone into this expecting to see something that looked straight out of a horror movie. Henry was pretty sure he was going to get chewed out for letting his grandson see something like this, but that thought was secondary.
They pulled up outside Joey’s apartment and Henry scrambled out of the car, Photo close behind with Plush held in his arms. There was a lot of melted ink on the upholstery of the back seat as well as all over Photo.
“Joey! Open up!” Henry roared, pounding on Joey’s door. It only took a moment or two for the door to swing open. Joey had a bag of frozen peas held over his black eye.
“Back so soon?” He smiled slightly, as if he were hopeful Henry was there to make amends. His smile quickly faded, however, when he saw Photo holding the melting Plush and the shaky Henry Jr. behind them. “Oh.”
“Why is he melting?!” Henry demanded.
“His body melts when it’s away from the studio for too long,” Joey said with a shrug. “The same thing will happen to the other one in a week or two.” He gestured with his free hand to Photo.
“And why is that?” Henry asked through gritted teeth.
“So they won’t run,” Joey replied brightly.
“Because you did a crap job making us,” Photo corrected him.
Henry sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How do I fix him?”
“Putting him back in the studio should work just fine,” Joey said. “Especially since you broke the Ink Machine and cut off the ink I was using to fix him when outside the studio.” There was a sinister look of satisfaction in his eyes that made both Photo and Henry’s blood boil.
“Any other options?” Henry growled.
Joey’s sinister expression morphed into something that looked rather like a childish pout. “Well, I suppose you could always give up some pieces of your soul to make their forms more stable.”
“I’ll do it,” Henry answered without a second thought.
“You don’t need to do that,” Photo said while Plush tried to protest while his mouth was literally melting away.
“I’m doing it.” Henry’s voice left little room for argument. “Come on.” He gently pushed Joey to the side, gesturing for Plush and Photo to follow him inside. Henry Jr. got out of the car and followed, not wanting to stay alone with the castoff in from Plush’s body.
Plush, Photo, Henry, and Joey went into the room that still held the remains of the Ink Machine and the door was shut. Henry Jr. went to get himself some orange juice to drink.
Henry ended up drawing up a model sheet for Plush, a new form so that he would be able to put his horrifying past at the studio behind him. The form Henry chose for Plush was one that leaned on the more cartoony side. He wouldn’t look like Henry anymore. He’d look like himself. Joey walked him through the process of imbuing part of his soul into Plush, and Henry began to put him back together.
It was actually rather comforting for Photo to watch. The care Henry showed as he shaped Plush’s ink was kindness neither Plush nor Photo had ever been shown by people outside of each other. Plush felt safe and warm as Henry worked on him, molding his ink as though he were a sculptor molding clay.
And then, finally, when Plush’s body was complete and whole once more, Henry painted on his face. It tickled a little as he did so.
“Alright. I’m done,” Henry said, standing back. Plush blinked his new pie-cut eyes open. Then Photo swept him up in a tight hug. He’d been so worried.
“I’ll come back when Photo starts to melt,” Henry said, not even looking at Joey. His focus was on the two now overjoyed creatures. It brought a smile to his face, seeing them so happy.
“Alright.” Joey looked even smaller now, stripped of his power.
Henry left after that, taking Plush, Photo, and Henry Jr. with him.
#bendy and the ink machine#fanfiction#lookalikes au#body horror tw#henry stein#joey drew#plush stein#photo stein
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900
1. What’s the last thing you ate?
Shawarma. It was a usual meal of mine at school so I’ve been missing it a lot during this quarantine, and I was happy when my dad got me a couple ones yesterday.
2. What’s your favourite cheese?
I haven’t been super experimental when it comes to cheese mainly because the better ones are a little expensive and I’m more willing to spend my money on other foods...but the best one I’ve had is feta.
3. What’s your favourite fish?
My favorite cooked or grilled fish is tilapia and eel; as for raw fish I love tuna.
4. What’s your favourite fruit?
I don’t really like fruit but I’m open to eating avocado-flavored things like shakes and cheesecake; and I’m okay with strawberry-flavored candy hahaha.
5. When, if ever, did you start liking olives?
I’ve never liked olives. I take them out of my pizza and such.
6. When, if ever, did you start liking beer?
I never *liked* beer but sometimes I’ll have a bottle if and only if it’s to socialize at a party. I just keep the grimace to myself lol because I personally never found it good. I had my first beer at Marielle’s debut, four years ago.
7. When, if ever, did you start liking shellfish?
High school. That was when my palate started to expand and I wanted to try being more adventurous with food. I got into shellfish pretty early on and my mom even used to buy a kilo of mussels just for me.
8. What was the best thing your mum/dad/guardian used to make?
I love my dad’s laksa, risotto, curries, and chicken wings. My mom doesn’t cook much but I do like her spaghetti.
9. What’s the native specialty of your hometown?
My city doesn’t have native food of its own; and I’m not sure about my province’s specialtes either only because cuisines from other provinces are far more popular. I can say though that most visitors who come to the country often try adobo, sinigang, kare-kare, and bulalo.
10. What’s your comfort food?
Cheeseburgers, samgyeopsal, pad thai, and chicken wings.
11. What’s your favourite type of chocolate?
Milk chocolate. And it gets a lot of flak because it’s not actually chocolate, but I do enjoy the flavor of white chocolate too.
12. How do you like your steak?
Rare.
13. How do you like your burger?
I like mine with caramelized onions, a mayo-based sauce, and brioche buns; barbecue sauce or jalapeños are add-ons I have no problem being put in my burger. I don’t like tomatoes, pickles, and lettuce.
14. How do you like your eggs?
Scrambled if on toast; omelette with cheese, tomatoes, mushrooms, and bell peppers if with rice; and obviously, poached if on top of an Eggs Benedict. I don’t have a preferred style for eggs.
15. How do you like your potatoes?
As French fries or mojos.
16. How do you take your coffee?
If someone is making the coffee for me, I request for lots of cream and sugar. I’d drink any kind of coffee but black. If I’m at a coffee shop I typically get caramel macchiato.
17. How do you take your tea?
I enjoy lemonade iced tea. I don’t really like hot tea.
18. What’s your favourite mug?
I suppose my favorite is the only mug I own, which is a white mug that changes colors depending on the temperature of the drink inside.
19. What’s your biscuit or cookie of choice?
I can’t stand biscuits anymore because those are what my grandma/mom packed for my recess nearly everyday throughout grade school. I don’t like store-brought cookies either because they taste super processed, but my favorite as a kid were the Presto peanut butter cookies.
20. What’s your ideal breakfast?
Garlic rice, a packed omelette, and hashbrowns if I’m somewhere fancy. Scrambled eggs and hotdogs when I’m at home.
21. What’s your ideal sandwich?
Monte Cristo or banh mi.
22. What’s your ideal pizza:
Quattro formaggi. If we’re talking more experimental pizzas, barbecue pizza is a guilty pleasure.
23. What’s your ideal pie (sweet or savoury)?
I’m not a big pie person but I do love savory a lot more, like chicken pot pie. I think most of the sweet pies out there are fruit-based anyway.
24. What’s your ideal salad?
Spicy tuna salad. I’ve been having such a craving for it :(
25. What food do you always like to have in the fridge?
We always have white bread, eggs, my mom’s cranberry juice, and veggies.
26. What food do you always like to have in the freezer?
In the freezer we never run out of various meats and frozen meal packs, like frozen bangus, hotdogs, chicken nuggets, French fries, etc. We also often have ice cream, but it’s not a must-have for us obviously.
27. What food do you always like to have in the cupboard?
Pasta, canned food like luncheon meat and corned beef, cup noodles, various condiments like soy sauce and fish sauce, 3-in-1 coffee.
28. What spices can you not live without?
I can’t cook but I do know I like salt, pepper, paprika, and cumin. I’m sure I’m missing other essential ones lol
29. What sauces can you not live without?
Sriracha, bagoong, banana ketchup, gochujang, peanut sauce, gravy, barbecue sauce, aioli, mayonnaise.
30. Where do you buy most of your food?
My parents don’t have a supermarket preference; they just go to wherever is most convenient for them at the moment. Once I start doing my own grocery shopping though I would rather go to a supermarket where they’d have a wider selection for foreign foods, like those that would have Pop-Tarts and sriracha sauce. Just the foodie in me that constantly has to have food from other cultures.
31. How often do you go food shopping?
My parents do the groceries once every two or three weeks, I think.
33. What’s the most expensive piece of kitchen equipment you own?
Aside from the obvious ref or cooking range, probably the coffee maker. Not sure how much it cost my parents but it’s supposed to be branded haha.
34. What’s the last piece of equipment you bought for your kitchen?
Dad bought a couple of pans because he didn’t like how our old ones were starting to get too many scratches.
35. What piece of kitchen equipment could you not live without?
Refrigerator. So many things would spoil without it...that’s why when we get blackouts the first thing we worry about is how long the ref would stay cold.
36. How many times a week/month do you cook from raw ingredients?
I’ve only done it once.
37. What’s the last thing you cooked from raw ingredients?
38. What meats have you eaten besides cow, pig and poultry?
Crocodile, carabao, lamb.
39. What’s the last time you ate something that had fallen on the floor?
Don’t remember exactly when but it has to be sometime recently. I’m not too grossed out by this.
40. What’s the last time you ate something you’d picked in the wild?
I have never done this.
41. Arrange the following in order of preference: Italian, Mexican, Chinese, Indian, Thai, Sushi –
Indian, Thai, Italian, Japanese, Chinese, Mexican. This question is a teeny bit annoying and a little offensive. How would you like it if I referred to American food as ‘ribs’ lol
42. Arrange the following in order of preference: Vodka, Whiskey, Brandy, Rum –
Vodka, rum, (some) whiskey. I don’t drink brandy because that’s what my grandpa, who had alcohol issues, used to drink.
43. Arrange the following in order of preference: Garlic, Basil, Lime, Mint, Ginger, Aniseed –
Aniseed, garlic, basil, ginger, lime, mint.
44. Arrange the following in order of preference: Pineapple, Orange, Apple, Strawberry, Cherry, Watermelon, Banana. –
45. Bread and spread:
I don’t really munch on this particular food. Toast and butter is enough for me.
46. What’s your fast food restaurant of choice, and what do you usually order?
It’s either KFC or Jollibee. In KFC I get a Zinger and a brownie; in Jollibee, I usually order the chicken-spaghetti set, large fries, and a Yum Burger. If they have tuna pie on the menu I’d get that too. My appetite gets exceptionally large when it comes to Jollibee hahahaha.
47. Pick a city. What are the best dining experiences you’ve had in that city?
I no longer remember what exactly I ate but I had a blaaaast eating in Bali. I also had a sushi platter in Fukuoka that I’ll never forget.
48. What’s your choice of tipple at the end of a long day?
I don’t drink regularly but if I’m out with friends and we want to chill after a tiring day, we get a pitcher of a mixed drink.
49. What’s the next thing you’ll eat?
Eggs and hotdogs for breakfast. Probably with bread.
50. Are you hungry now?
A little bit, considering it’s nearly 10 and I still haven’t had breakfast.
51. Do you eat your breakfast everyday?
I’ve been having it everyday now because I’ve been home for...most of the year...sigh. But I skipped it all the time when I was in school because getting to class on time and having a clean attendance record mattered to me more than filling up my stomach.
52. At what time do you have breakfast?
On weekdays I have it between 9-10 AM. On weekends when my parents are home, we have brunch instead at around 10:30-11 AM because they wake up late.
53. At what time do you have lunch?
I normally skip lunch now. In school I just had tiny eating breaks throughout the day, but I didn’t have lunch per se.
54. What do you have for lunch?
My usual purchases were instant noodles/kwek-kwek, tapsilog from Rodic’s, or shawarma rice. Thrived on these three for my entire college life.
55. At what time do you have dinner?
7-8 PM, depending on whenever my dad is finished cooking.
56. What do you have for dinner?
My dad likes changing up our dishes everyday :) It’s one of my favorite things about quarantine. Outside of the quarantine, I’ve never had a main dinner dish.
57. Do you light candles during dinner?
No.
58. How many chairs are there in your dining room and who sits in the main chair?
6 chairs. We don’t have a ‘main’ chair that’s larger than the rest, but my dad is the one who sits on the chair on one end of the dining table, or what we call the kabisera in Filipino. My mom, siblings, and I sit on either side of him.
59. Do you eat and drink using your right hand or the left one?
I use my right hand for the spoon and my left hand for the fork. I drink with my right hand most of the time.
61. Mention the veggies that you like most:
Broccoli, cauliflower, lettuce, cabbage, spinach, asparagus, string beans. Idk what eggplants and bell peppers are but I like those too.
62. What fruit and vegetable do you like the least?
Cucumber and ampalaya.
63. You like your fruit salad to have more:
Air. Hahahaha I do not like fruit salads.
64. You prefer your vegetable salad to contain more:
I love vegetables but don’t really eat vegetable salads? I don’t think I’ve even heard of those.
65. What’s your favourite sandwich spread?
Whatever goes on banh mi.
66. What’s your favourite chocolate bar?
Whittaker’s peanut butter chocolate.
67. What’s your favourite dessert?
I really love macarons, cupcakes, and cheesecake.
68. What’s your favourite drink?
Just water. Other drinks make me fuller more quickly.
69. What’s your favourite snack?
Pringles, French fries, corndogs...anything deep-fried, really.
70. What’s your favourite bubble gum flavour?
Strawberry, or just the original bubblegum flavor.
71. What’s your favourite ice cream flavour?
Salted caramel, queso real, or cookies and cream.
72. What’s your favourite potato chip flavour?
Original or sour cream and onion.
73. What’s your favourite soup?
Miso. Have to have it whenever I have Japanese food.
74. What’s your favourite pizza?
Already answered this, but I will always order quattro formaggi if I see it on a menu.
75. What’s your favourite type of dish?
I have lots of favorites, but I think chicken curry takes the cake for me.
76. What food do you hate?
Fruits, any dessert with fruits.
77. What’s your favourite restaurant?
Yabu. It’s a Japanese restaurant that doesn’t even serve sushi (because I’m still ticked off by that sushi question lol).
78. Do you eat homemade food, or food delivered from outside?
These days I eat food cooked by either parent. But when I’m on my own, I buy my food.
80. Who cooks at home?
My dad does most of the time. My mom will make breakfast on the weekends.
81. What kind of diet (e.g. low-fat, high-fiber, high-carbohydrate, balanced diet etc.) do you have?
I’m not on any.
82. How do you keep yourself fit?
I just moderate my food intake in general and make sure I stop eating once I feel full. I don’t work out or count calories and stuff.
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Get To Know the Muse: Antes Kallus
tagged by: @writedisaster
tagging: have at it!! ^^
Favorite things.
season: Seasons throughout the galaxy are variable by planet, but he does prefer things to be on the cooler end. After being stranded on Bahryn, he’s more inclined to prefer the equivalent of spring or fall over winter - too much snow starts stirring unpleasant memories.
color: Orange
pie: Would probably enjoy the equivalent of a key lime pie a lot.
fruit: Jogan fruit was his childhood favorite, though he didn’t get it often. He still, technically, prefers that fruit flavor above others, but has mixed feelings regarding the memories it brings up and so avoids it.
ice cream flavor: Chocolate
breakfast food: Fried eggs
alcoholic drink: Any really, but does have a fondness for Corellian spiced ale.
soda flavor: Cola
scent: A scent like Lady Grey tea
flowers: Fire lily
animal: Always had a fondness for the various canids in the galaxy, though now has a marked preference toward Loth-wolves
movie: Would rather watch something slow and character-driven
tv show: He’d like procedural dramas and mysteries, but also would get incredibly invested in figuring it out and be utterly insufferable about it
book: Mysteries and, again, will get too invested in solving it first. May make a conspiracy board for it, don’t get him started. Admittedly, he has very little free-time to indulge such things.
superhero: Not very into the genre at all
fairy tale: Could absolutely not tell you a single fairytale if asked. If he was ever told one, he completely deleted the tale.
genre of music: Heavy and solid, with good drum beats
genre of movies: As mentioned above, character-driven dramas.
genre of books: As mentioned above, well-plotted mysteries, though he’d probably also enjoy something light and humorous.
Pick one.
hot or cold
juice or soda
tv or movie
movie or book
late night talk shows or reality tv
twitter or instagram
trees or flowers
philosophy or psychology
ocean or lake
water park or amusement park
cats or dogs
fresh water or sparkling water
sugar or honey
cookies or candy
bath or shower
morning or night
running or walking
piercings or tattoos
frozen yogurt or ice cream
vanilla or chocolate
caramel or butterscotch
art or music
t-shirt or button down
text or call
ghosts or aliens
Have they ever.
ridden a motorcycle: No. Has driven speeders though, which is kinda same vibe?
stolen something: Yes.
eaten an entire pizza by themselves: No.
made a prank call: No.
broken a bone: Yes absolutely and has gotten approximately zero of those injuries properly treated. He’s got some wonky bones under than armor.
fallen asleep during a concert or movie: Yes.
walked out of a movie because it was so bad: No.
been on the phone with someone for longer than 2 hours: Yes. Not entirely willingly.
dined & dashed: Yes, when he was much, much younger.
held a gun: Yes.
ding dong ditched: No.
gone skinny dipping: Absolutely not.
cried during a movie: No.
smuggled food into a movie: No.
lied to get a job: Yes. Getting hired by the Empire involved a lot of... obfuscation about his ancestry.
practiced lines in front of a mirror: No. He has glared at himself and mentally told himself to get his shit together, though.
tried to see how many marshmallows they can stuff in their mouth at once: No.
been kicked out of somewhere: Yes.
been on a blind date: lmao no.
ghosted someone: No, but he has been Ghost-ed!! ba-dum tsh!! that barely makes sense as a pun but im keeping it in y’all can’t stop me
bragged about something they haven’t done: Yes.
said i love you without meaning it: No.
gotten in a fight: Yes 100% absolutely
fallen asleep on a bus: No.
Miscellaneous.
how do they take their tea or coffee: Black, no sugar
what is their ideal date: Being vulnerable? In his him??? He’s incredibly repressed and also incredibly inexperienced so he’d do way better at something informal and casual. He hasn’t experienced a lot of tenderness since all those years back when he first became a Coruscanti cop in the underworld, so...
what are some of their guilty pleasures: Has a tiny bit of a sweet tooth that doesn’t get indulged often given the setting. To be fair, he also considers a lot of basic self care like sleep and relaxing to be guilty pleasures because he is wound up incredibly tight and holds himself to very exacting standards even after defecting to the Rebellion.
longest they’ve stayed up for: Approximately 96 hours with aid of stimulants.
greatest talent: Ability to survive against all odds. To this day, I am still amazed he survived the entire run of Rebels, since the moment he was on screen, I thought he was doomed to die.
strange habits: He keeps the meteorite from Bahryn and will hold it for comfort or reassurance. He also staunchly refuses most medical treatment; while with the Empire it was because he couldn’t risk his hyperpigmentation revealing his Chiss ancestry. With the Rebellion, it is more of a hold-over habit. He’s used to hiding and doesn’t know how to stop.
first job: Cop in the Coruscanti underworld.
can they do a handstand: Yes.
can they cook: Not really. He can follow instructions if given, but he doesn’t cook-cook much
do they have allergies: Nope.
do they believe in love in first sight: No. He doesn’t think much about love, but also doesn’t believe it could happen instantly.
have any special talents: Biologically, he is very resistant to cold. He’ll still, eventually, succumb to hypothermia if left too long, but it takes him much longer than most other humans to reach the same “stages.”
#(( it's been a hot minute since ive thought abt good ol' space javert here!! ))#the compass inside | kallus headcanons#play in this space | dash games#ace the helpful place | ooc#injury mention#alcohol mention
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To the Perfection Chapter 1 Part 6
I’m late and I’m sorry ! But here is part 6. Part 7 will come this weekend as planned (I hope) :x
Thomas Monday January 21
The weekend had been a two-day long disappointment for the teenager. Raphaël's departure this morning was a release. I don't have to see their idyll anymore. It was painful to watch Dan with his brother. To see them laugh, cuddle and kiss together. Thomas was itching to be at Raphaël's place, and it pissed him to be only a spectator. Consequently, this morning, he had felt relieved. But he was also more than embittered. That was probably why he arrived at school annoyed. Of course, he kept his warm smile. He looked happy to everyone, and it was fine this way. But inside, he was seething.
"Hey, look what Jessica texted me yesterday." told him Joël.
The message was a compliment about his great personality. Such a good joke.
"Looks like I earned one point." laughed the cocky lad. "Maybe she has a secret crush on me ?"
"Sure. Keep dreaming man." ironised Thomas.
Joël snorted. Next to them, Ilhan was finishing his history's assignment. He didn't start the second semester pretty well.
"Dudes, I don't know how I will manage science." he complained. "Thomy, could you help me ?"
Hell no. Why me ? Sure, he was the best student of their promotion, but he had others things to do than help this boots-licker.
"Sorry." he smiled. "But I'm busy enough with all the stuff we have to do. Besides, I'm sure you'll manage pretty well."
Ilhan nodded, half convinced. They entered in class, but Cody held the ginger back. He waited a moment, until their friends were far enough. What ? The young millionaire had always been smarter than the others. Two years ago, he had reproached Thomas for being distant and not really involved in their friendship. But my smile convinced him of the contrary, right ?
"Why you didn't tell us your mother has left you to move in England ?" he asked curiously. "We could have support you."
"How do you know that ?"
Thomas realised it was a stupid question. He already knew the answer.
"Raphaël told me." revealed Cody. "He said you were feeling sad, but you wouldn't admit it. Man, Joël and I are your friends since kindergarden. You should have tell us."
He did that on purpose. Maybe the ginger was seing evil all around, but he thought Raphaël wanted to tear Dan and him apart.
"My brother is wrong." he said with a cheerful smile. "I'm perfectly fine. I mean, yeah she left and I've felt lonely, but it's okay now. I reckonned it was useless to alarm you for nothing."
Cody stared at him a moment. You can't read me. Thomas knew he had a warm face and inscrutable eyes.
"If you say so..." finally mumbled Cody.
And they went to class.
When he arrived at home this evening, Thomas shivered. He sensed Raphaël's presence everywhere. Even my so-called friends are his pawns. His brother engulfed his life. It was so infuriating.
"Thomy ? What is going on ?"
He suddenly realised he was showing his feelings, and quickly put up a front. Dan looked at him, perplexed.
"I'm fine." smiled the ginger lad. "I'm going to cook something amazing tonight."
"I thought we could order something." suggested Dan, much to his surprise. "Spend the evening playing videogames together ? I mean, only if you already did your homework ?"
Thomas nodded slowly. It was hard to not rush in his friend's arms and express his feelings. Resist to him is so hard. Not only Dan was cuter each day, but he also seemed more and more attentive. Of course, it was only as a friend, but the teenager didn't see it that way.
Pizza arrived half an hour later. They started a new game Thomas got from his mother. It was kind of fascinating, and time passed rapidly. But the young lad wasn't focused on the screen at all. He was watching Dan as his friend wolfed down the first pizza. And the second. His stomach was getting rounder which each slice. Once he finished, the junior rubbed it, causing a soft blech.
"That was good." he sighed, satisfied.
Then, he went back to the game. I should too. But... I can't let things like this. Seing Dan taut belly turned him on. Since his friend was always shirtless, he could note even the tinier details. His tummy button getting slighly deeper. His bulging lovehandles. Nothing could escape from Thomas's stare. Dan suddenly handed him an orange juice.
"Here." he said. "Fresh and with low-sugar rate, as you like it. We're close to the hardest level, so better be refreshed."
He knows me so well, this is insane. Thomas let his fantasy got the best of him.
"Thanks." he smiled. "I'll go grab some foods we could snack on."
He brought more than enough. The pie leftover, cakes, his secret box of cookies, some donuts from Mrs. Liliano's bakery... But Dan didn't notice it, or he didn't say. He only took a big morsel of pie, and gobbled it.
For two hours, it continued like this. They lost the level several time, because Thomas was way too distracted. His friend's middlesection was growing larger. He was getting very bloated from all the food and the beer he was consuming. The way his belly pushed his sweatpants made the ginger hard as rock. Each burp made him shiver with pleasure. And Dan continued to eat, barely taking the time to rub his overstuffed stomach. Finally, when he finished the pop-corn Thomas just brought, he grunted. He leaned back to find a more comfortable position. His belly gurgled, way too full.
"It's... burp... so hot in here." moaned Dan.
Thomas didn't answer. He was frozen, unable to do anything but stare. Feed someone and see him overfed was already his turn-on. Seing Dan in this state was more than that. His dick was sore. His lust prevented him to think clearly. Only the fear of Dan's reaction stopped him to do the worst mistake of his life. His friend groaned, his two hands rubbing his distended belly.
"No wonder I'm... burp... growing fat." he said. "I can't control myself around food, can I ? Sorry for... burp... that. You shouldn't see me like... that."
"Like the glutton you are ?" asked Thomas before thinking.
Dan looked at him and smiled.
"Yeah, something like that."
The ginger lad hesistated. What the hell am I doing ? He wanted to rub Dan's belly, who was obviously in pain. He wanted to put him at ease. To soflty kiss him. To fuck him. No way. This is a terrible idea. Thomas stood up, hiding his erection as best as he could.
"Imma going to sleep." he declared. "Tonight was awesome Dan, thank you. And don't worry, I don't mind if you indulge a bit. I think it's nice."
And he went to his bedroom in order to masturbate.
Dan Thursday January 24 – Friday January 25
When he entered in the sheriff office, Dan sighed. He adjusted his too-tight belt. I shouldn't wear it anymore, it pinch me. Gregory noticed him and came closer.
"Hi Dan." he greeted. "Here to pick up your criminal sister ?"
It was dark humor. Since she gratuated from highschool, Shirley was often in troubles. Nothing too bad, but she ended up several times at the police station. His brother, maybe because he was naive, maybe because he was too kind, was having her back. He had been lying to their parents all the time for her.
"What did she do this time ?" he asked.
"Well, she entered illegally in a private property. The owner reported her, but he hasn't sued her."
Dan sighed again. Why she turned like this ? During highschool, she had been a top student. Good grades, good in sport, she had had a nice boyfriend. She had even managed to make Raphaël genuinely smile once, which was rarer than snow in summer. Well, she had been in troubles during 11th grade because she was suspected to be homophobic... Since then, she never had made up with their parents. Or him, to be honest. They weren't close at all since she tried to hurt Raphaël. His boyfriend had forgiven her, but Dan had some difficulties to do the same. He only helped because he thought he didn't have a choice.
"The sheriff will be there soon." announced Gregory. "You can wait him here. Donuts ?"
Dan looked at the pastry, but declined politely. He had to save room for Thomas's diner. And he was already gaining weight fast enough. Not even one month, and all his clothes were already snug.
Eventually, Mr. Davos arrived, and after a talk, Dan's sister was free. She looked at him with a smile.
"Sorry big bro." she said. "I promise it'll never happen again."
He wasn't that stupid. It the fourth time in less than a year.
"What were you thinking ?" he asked, irritated. "You know how much troubles you could have been in ?"
She shrugged, detached. She was wearing a dirty speckled pullover, with holed jeans and shoes. She had left their parent's home last july. She had crashed in her boyfriend's home during one month. There, she started to be on a slippery slope. She did pickpocketing, but luckily the victim didn't press charge against her. Then, she tried to resell drugs from the local dealer. Without any real evidence, the sheriff had to let her go. Eventually, around november, Sam had dumped her, and Dan couldn't honestly reproach him for that. She had been a real pain for him, always demanding more and more. I don't know why she became like this. I don't know how to help.
"Shirley, where are you living now ?" he wondered. "And how are you eating ? You should go back home, or come live with me in the worst case."
"No way." she answered. "I'm free, totally free. I'm not going to see mom or dad ever again. And I don't want to live with you."
She looked at him, mocking.
"I wouldn't be able to hold myself... You're so hot."
"That's gross." he mumbled. "Just... Don't do anything stupid again please."
He felt powerless. What can I do ? Maybe he should let the sheriff lock her up. Maybe he should talk with his parents ? He was so hesitant that in the end, he did nothing. He let her go on her own. I'm not the brother of the year...
On the next day morning, Dan was cosily munching cookies when he got a call from Mrs. Muller. She told him the school had contacted her about Thomas, because he and his friends caused a little blast during science lesson, apparently on purpose. What does that mean ? He would never do that. Anyway, he got suspended, which worried his mother. Dan took the time to reassure her. When he hung up, he was very concerned. Thomas's friends probably had done a mistake, and they were all grounded. But still, it wasn't the ginger's type to get suspended. Wait, science class... Does that mean it's Darren who punished them ? Well, Dan's bestfriend was new in town, he probably wasn't affected by Thomas's natural charm. So this explained that. Dan decided to text him, but Raphaël suddenly called.
"This is improper." he said straight. "We can't tolerate this."
I guess he's talking about Thomas... His apathetic tone warned Dan. He was angry.
"I asked you to be nice with him, and this is how he behaves ?" continued Raphaël. "There are limits he can't cross."
The junior didn't answer yet. He knew how to act when his boyfriend was annoyed.
"There's no way I could let such a bad behaviour unpunished. I understand he's sad and he feels abandonned, but this is no excuse to be suspended from science class. I'll call him straight this evening."
"Honey, can you let me handle this ?" suggested Dan.
It was the good moment to step in.
"I'll talk to him, and we'll see what happened. You know it is possible he did nothing wrong. Maybe he just helped his friends ?"
A cold blank followed. Nice, he's thinking. He's always overreacting when it comes to his little brother.
"Fine." eventually agreed Raphaël. "But make sure he perfectly understands. I don't want mom to tell me things like that ever again."
"Sure thing love. Just... try to calm down, there is nothing to be worried about. I got this."
Now I can relate to Mrs. Muller. It must have been very difficult to raise these two boys. Raphaël was already quite a phenomenon. But Thomas had his own difficult character. Dan knew it as soon as he arrived at home this evening.
"Are you gonna lecture me ? Because my teacher already did." he said as an introduction.
The young teenager was smiling. His most genuine, most cheerful smile. I see right through this mask.
"It depend." he answered prudently. "What did you do exactly ?"
"Nothing. Ilhan got the formula wrong and he made a blast. I laughed. Our teacher thought we did it on purpose... I don't like him."
Oh good. So... I guess I'll make the presentations later...
"Look, I'm not your father, and I trust you." Dan stated. "Just be careful next time okay ? We don't want your mother to come back here only to yell at you, right ?"
Thomas lowered his eyes, seemingly ashamed.
"Yes." he said. "Sorry Dan. I didn't intend to put you in trouble."
"No problem buddy."
"To make it up to you, let me cook an amazing diner." suggested the teenager.
And that was how the junior knew he was gonna end the day completely full.
To be continued
Shirley was the main character in the High School Game. She’s a strong and indepedent young women, but who as a tendancy to find troubles. She doesn’t has a major impact in this story, but she’ll be there.
Also, The College Society is coming back next week with chapter 3 !
#to the perfection#TP#Thomas#Dan#stuffing#weight gain#Dan loves food a lot#Dan's a glutton#Raphaël#chapter 1#part 6
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