Piece 2/2 for the Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang hosted by @mysme-rbb
The accompanying fic for this piece is by mikanwrites and can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30869483
Please check it out!
This was a pinch piece. I volunteered to take it on because since October I’d had the idea for Jumin to be the King of Hearts (genderbent Queen of Hearts as opposed to the actual King of Hearts) since I drew an Alice in Wonderland themed picture for Inktober, and I’m really happy I was able to bring it to life. I’m not sure if I’m entirely happy about the design, but I’m very happy with the mood/tone of the piece and how perfectly mikan captured it in the fic, which I HIGHLY recommend everyone checking out.
This piece really challenged me when it came to backgrounds, angles, lighting and poses and I’m really glad that I took on that challenge because I feel that it turned out pretty good. The ultimate vibe is really domineering and it’s a mood I don’t normally try, given how bright and sparkly an artist I usually am (as you can probably tell by the alternate version).
RBB as a whole really pushed me past my limits and made me try things I never had before and I’m grateful for the experience as a whole. I really hope we get to do it again next year!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
I've been so excited to write for the Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang 2021 (go check out other amazing fics and art in the collection at @mysme-rbb), and it's the first fanfic/art event I've participated in! @madiebelleadventures and I teamed up to brainstorm this beast, so her art is at the very end (because I ain't spoilin nothin)!
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Rating: T
Word Count: 5.1k
Summary: One day after the end of a work week, Vanderwood surprises MC with some husband-wife baking time—with a twist. Inspired by his agent training, he suggests that they bake as a team but have MC blindfolded. In order to make a cake that's actually edible, she must follow his directions to the letter. All that's left after that is chaos, banter, and spouse-flustering. And figuring out how to actually make a cake.
A/N: Fyi MC is definitely more of her own character than a reader-insert on this one. Also as per usual with me, I headcanon Vanderwood as British, so I tried heavily to align his phrasing accordingly, despite being an American myself. Enjoy seeing exactly how much fluff I can possibly cram into 5k words!
MC sighed happily at the feeling of the wind in her hair as she drove home from work one Friday evening. Windows down, jacket off, music blasting—the air itself felt like freedom. She had nothing against her job—in fact, she enjoyed it for the most part. She prided herself in a job well done, she liked being able to manage a team of her own, and the paycheck and benefits were good. Nothing extravagant, of course, but enough to comfortably support a couple newlyweds.
And that was the real reason MC nearly jumped out the door every day when everything wrapped up at the office. Who wouldn't, with a husband as unfairly hot as Vanderwood? Completely unfair how he could make leopard print and what was practically a mullet actually look attractive. Thank goodness his fashion sense had mellowed out over time, if only a little bit. With Vanderwood's past being what it was, they had mutually come to the conclusion that it would be best for their well-being if he stayed at their apartment during the day to keep the household running. He was very particular about how he cooked, cleaned, and did the laundry, and he handled their finances conscientiously and precisely. Admittedly, she did have to occasionally remind him that as sleek as that new top-of-the-line taser was, there was no real need for it, but that was just part of her husband's charm.
And boy, was he charming.
She truly couldn't wait to get home, past this rush hour traffic. She'd get home and be pulled in for a deep kiss moments after walking in the door. Maybe he'd slip a gentle but insistent hand into her hair. Maybe they'd take it a little further. Or a lot further.
"HOLY FUDGE NUGGETS ON BACON ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME???"
MC swerved to avoid a collision and waited for her heartbeat to settle down again. There was no freaking way she was going to die in some stupid car wreck before their date tonight. A surprise, he'd said. No matter how hard she'd tried to weasel more out of him, he wouldn’t bend. Darn agent training. Good thing it wouldn't be a surprise for much longer. Within minutes, the streets got smaller and quieter as she neared her apartment building. Another minute, and she flung open the apartment door and leapt on her husband.
MC's fantasies were soon replaced by an even better reality when Vanderwood's lips landed on hers. Kissing back enthusiastically, MC wrapped her arms around his middle so tight that a less sturdy man would be coughing for air. Vanderwood snatched her keys and purse and hung them by the doorway, never breaking his focus for a second. His kisses grew slower, but no less fervent, as he smoothed her wind-strewn hair. Eventually, their lips reluctantly parted, and MC broke the silence.
"How did I manage to snag the best kisser on earth on top of marrying the most insanely attractive man on earth?"
Vanderwood smirked. "Good taste, I guess." He kissed her once more soundly for good measure.
"Maybe. Will my insanely attractive husband tell me what our surprise date is now?"
"Perhaps."
"No perhapses! I've been dying waiting!"
"Very well. Start by changing your clothes, because I am not scrubbing stains out of your good work clothes."
"Do I otherwise have to wear anything in particular? That's not a lot to go off of."
"Doesn't matter to me. Now go change before I do the job myself."
"I wouldn't complain."
"This is not that kind of date! Go!"
"Fine, Sir Panties-in-a-bunch."
MC went to the bedroom and took stock of her clothing options. She had to choose something practical that could be easily washed, but she still wanted to look a little cute. After all, it was a date. It was a tough balance to strike. Eh, she could always stick an apron or an old shirt over it. She grabbed her oversized paint shirt just in case before snagging a light pink shirt. Now for the bottoms. She debated on a simple skirt, but decided to go for it. After all, if it didn't fit with Vanderwood's plans, he would tell her. MC changed quickly and weaved her hair into a side braid, slipping a tendril out on each side to frame her face. Mirror-MC nodded in approval. Time to see what on earth her husband had been planning.
She cracked open the door and peeked through before skipping over to Vanderwood, who had made himself comfortable on the couch. His amber eyes widened in interest.
"You have no business looking this pretty for a baking date."
MC grinned. "Ha! I did get it out of you! A baking date sounds cute. What made you think of that? Are you just really getting into the whole house husband gig?"
"It was my agent training, actually." Seeing the puzzled look on his wife's face, Vanderwood continued, "There's a bit of a twist to it, you see. I will hardly be doing any of the actual baking. You, my dear, on the other hand, will be completely blindfolded. You will have to follow my instructions explicitly, or else the result will be completely inedible."
"I still fail to see how the setup doesn't sound like 'that kind of date', but it sounds like fun! What does this have to do with your agent training, though?"
"Various exercises used similar techniques. Many times in the field, we had to follow orders to the letter with no questions asked if we wanted to make it out in one piece. We also did training to be able to operate blindly or in the dark if our vision was compromised. But none of it was as enjoyable as watching a beautiful woman bake a cake by pure trust."
"You're such a flatterer. Keep it coming," MC smirked.
"At least get into the kitchen first," Vanderwood said, handing her a blindfold that looked suspiciously like his nap mask.
"Okay, but if you don't want me in the kitchen until I'm blindfolded, you're gonna have to get my apron yourself."
"I thought I was the one giving out orders tonight?"
"A girl's gotta get her kicks somewhere."
"Such a docile wife I have. Never difficult, never demanding."
"You think it's sexy. Don't even try to deny it."
"I would have filed for immediate divorce if the description 'docile' actually fit you." He stepped into the kitchen and emerged a moment later with the apron. MC slipped it on and, after ducking briefly into the bathroom to wash her hands, covered her eyes with the blindfold.
"I'm at your mercy now. Don't abuse that privilege."
He materialized behind her, winding his arms around her waist. "I wouldn't dream of it," he murmured into her ear before attacking her stomach. MC burst into uncontrollable giggles.
"I swear—!" she giggled "—I swear I'm going to punch the living daylights out of you!"
"You're certainly welcome to try. You know I wouldn't even feel it."
"But I could try. How am I supposed to trust you to give me decent directions to bake whatever the heck we're making if I can't even trust you not to tickle me?"
"You don't. That's the thrill of it."
"You'd better have me make something actually edible for all our trouble."
"That all depends on how well you follow my instructions."
"And how decent your instructions are. Let's not forget that tiny detail," she reminded.
"Hmm, we'll see," The smile was evident in his voice. "Now if we're going to start, we need to go ahead and do it."
"Probably."
He guided MC by her upper arms into the narrow kitchen.
"Fortunately," he said, halting and holding her in place, "we're only baking a cake and not an entire meal, so it won't take an eternity."
"I sure hope not! It's pizza night and I'm already a little hungry!"
He wound his hands around his wife's waist, lightly patting her stomach. "Well, the faster we start, the faster we can eat. I've already laid everything out for you as best I can, so you just have to follow my directions, all right, love?"
"Got it."
"All right, can you feel the worktop?" A nod. "Raise your right hand just a bit...and over…now grab the box with the cake mix, because heaven knows neither of us knows or cares enough to make it from scratch. Got it? Now open it up. The mixing bowl is straight to the left. Go ahead and pour it in."
"Just so you know, if I spill anything, you're the one taking responsibility."
"And why is that, darling?" Vanderwood asked, feigning shock.
"Because you're the one who had this idea in the first place! Not to mention if I make a mess it’s because of your faulty directions."
Unfortunately, MC failed to prove her point, pouring the mix into the bowl and barely spilling a few crumbs.
"Looks like we may not have to worry about that," Vanderwood smirked.
"You have met me, right? You know something's going to get spilled, right?"
Ignoring her, he moved the empty box toward the back and continued, "The milk should be right around where the cake mix was, if you can remember where you just were. The measuring jug is right next to it. Do you think you can pour it in correctly?"
"We'll see, now won't we?"
"There you go. Just try to take it slowly, just in case, and stop when I say so."
MC obeyed, gradually tilting the milk jug until a thin stream hit the center of the measuring cup.
"Brilliant! Now careful, careful, slightly to the left...that's it! Now slow down...almost done...stop!" He kissed her cheek. "That was amazing. Now pour it into the bowl."
MC felt around for the mixing bowl again. She managed to find it and poured in the milk. "Where's the cap for the milk jug?"
"Hm...where did it go? Oh, there it is. Right by the sink."
She batted at the air around her right side to find the inside of the sink. Instead, her hand bumped the side of the milk jug. Vanderwood's hand shot out to catch it, but a small puddle had already sloshed onto the counter. MC's hand shot up to take off the blindfold, but Vanderwood caught her wrist first. She sighed.
"Vandy, give it to me straight. How bad is it?"
"Not bad at all. I caught it before much got out. Stay put for a moment while I wipe it up so it doesn't start to smell or dry up."
"Not to say I told you, but I definitely told you."
Her husband stuck out his tongue at her—one of the few ways he had begun to let himself be childish lately. Then the obvious dawned on him. "I'm sticking out my tongue. I thought you ought to know that."
"Crucial information. Are you done yet?"
"Yep. You ready to get your hands a little dirty?"
"Isn't that expected in all this?"
"That's probably a large part of why you demanded an apron first, yes."
"You would be right about that, also yes. And you're so dramatic. I did not demand."
"Up to interpretation. Reach up to the left of the mixing bowl and just grab it off the plate and toss it in."
As instructed, MC reached over and let out a tiny shriek when her hand came into contact with the soft butter. Vanderwood guffawed.
"I was waiting for that."
MC gasped. "You did this on purpose!" She flung the butter into the bowl with an extra dash of vindictiveness.
"Maybe so. I like hearing your reactions," he purred.
"Don't try to be all smooth when you're being a twit. It doesn't suit you," MC sniffed, then muttered under her breath, "actually it totally works for you but it doesn't make me less ticked at you."
"By the way, don't bother trying to wash your hands just yet. The next part is probably going to be the messiest. I'll go get the bin so it'll be close by for you."
"Appreciated. What's the next part?"
"Eggs."
"Yikes, okay. That's why I needed the trash can, then. And where are the eggs?"
"To your left. You're going to need four of them. I read somewhere that adding an extra egg makes it better, hypothetically."
"You're the one giving the instructions."
"Alright, the bin is to your left, whenever you're ready."
"I could hear the thunk when you set it down, but thank you," MC said wryly.
"I live to serve."
There was silence for a moment as MC cracked the first egg into the bowl, and a soft smile rose on her face like the dawn. "Not anymore, you don't. I thank God every day that you and Saeyoung were able to free yourselves from the agency. I never could have forgotten you even if you hadn't, but I never would have known the immense joy I've gotten to have by being your wife." She sniffed, then laughed. "Sorry for being so sentimental all of a sudden, I don't know what got into me. It's just that knowing how many things could have gotten between us makes me that much more grateful for what we have."
"Ah!" Vanderwood shot a hand out to correct the second egg's trajectory into the mixing bowl.
"Oops, thank you."
"No problem, love. We're a team." He settled against her back, rubbing her arms lightly and placing a tender kiss on her cheek. "And never feel sorry for your so-called sentimentality. In fact, I really think you hold back sometimes. You shouldn't. I know that I used to scoff at these things, but locking out your emotions for job after job really takes a toll on a man. The agency had no room for love of any sort, and I've long come to the realization that every person is hardwired to desire love of one kind or another. I know I'm still unlearning all of my coping mechanisms, and I know I'm still sharp with some people, but with you?" He smoothed a hair back from her face. "I'll take whatever love you can give me."
She cracked the third egg into the bowl and threw out the shell. "I always knew you could be a softie, very deep down. I'm just glad that I get to be the one to see it."
After the fourth egg was in the bowl, Vanderwood directed, "Okay, time to wash up. The next thing is mixing for two minutes. While I love you, I do not trust you to use an electric mixer while blindfolded, so you're going to use a whisk for that job."
"I suppose that's fair. Can you put away the trash can while I wash my hands?"
"Already on it."
"Where's the whisk, again?"
"I kind of put it toward the back, so either be careful or wait for me to move a few things."
"Oh, I've got it. Don't worry," MC waved a hand in dismissal and groped around for the whisk, but her arm was a bit too low, and she dipped her clothed elbow in the plate where the butter had been. She sighed. "What did I just decorate my elbow with?"
"Butter. Try it. It might be tasty," he teased.
"Come on, Vandy, this is not the time. Help me get it off before it soaks in too much."
"Alright, alright, I just had to pick on you a little bit for not listening to me." He carefully scooped off the top layer of the butter with a paper towel before trying to absorb the rest. "I'm going to roll up your sleeves a bit more so that this hopefully won't happen again."
"Well, not until I slosh half the cake out of this bowl trying and failing to mix it."
"You'll be fine. Just stick to mixing the center and bringing the outside of it toward the center so everything gets mixed. But mix it well and mix it fast. The timer starts...now!"
MC held the bowl against her stomach to steady it while she mixed the batter vigorously. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one trying to mix furiously while keeping it all in the bowl on top of being blindfolded!"
"Calm down, you're doing great. A couple drips, maybe, but it's staying in."
"So far, anyway. But that's good, I guess."
"No guessing. It's quite good." Vanderwood leaned against the counter. "We've got a minute and a half to kill. Should I spend it telling you how you look right now?"
"Oh gosh, do I even want to know?"
He shook his head in near disbelief, smiling. "Magnetic. Adorable. More delicious than the cake we're making."
MC cackled. "You cannot be serious. I've got to be a mess right now."
"You act as if that's a contradiction. It's the mess that makes you more beautiful. Is every single hair of yours in place? No. But they fall around your face in the most delicately beautiful way. Even the places where the ingredients got smudged on you somehow add to your charm." He leaned in so that his lips touched her ear, his voice lowering to a gravelly timbre. "Did you know that your cheeks are all rosy from the effort you're putting into stirring? It's unbelievably attractive. And the way your lips press together when you're concentrating? It makes me want to kiss them apart. In fact—"
"Vanderwood, how much time is left?" MC interrupted, suppressing a vivid blush and a shiver.
"Our entire lives," he said, happily ignoring the real question.
"The timer, Vanderwood. How much is left on the timer?"
The sound of the timer going off answered the question for him. "None," he grinned. "I'll go spray the cake pan while you rest for a moment. You've earned it."
She exhaled, set the mixing bowl aside, and stretched. Then a thought made her panic. "Vandy, we forgot to preheat the oven."
He held her face in his hands. "MC. Darling. Breathe. I set the oven when I grabbed the apron."
Her breathing gradually slowed. "Sorry, love. I'm just really hungry and kind of tired and I think not being able to see is doing weird things to my brain and you kind of flustered me a minute ago with what you were saying and I'm sorry, I—" her voice cracked, but Vanderwood cut her off and held her close.
"Hey...hey...you're alright. There's nothing to be sorry about. I kept you going after a long day of work without feeding you first. I should have known better." He smoothed her hair and tucked it into her braid. "I'll tell you what. How about we get this cake in the oven and then order some pizza and watch another episode of Cucumber Fish?"
MC sniffled and hummed in agreement. Vanderwood loosened his hold around her and gently brought her hands to the bowl again before grabbing the cake pan. "Okay, all you've got to do now is pour it into the pan that I've put just to the left of the bowl. Just take it nice and easy. There you go. Perfect. You're almost done. Now let me get a spatula to scoop the last of it out." After he finished, he slid the cake pan into the oven and started the timer. "There. All done." He slipped the mask off her eyes and gave her a peck on the lips as she blinked to adjust to the light. "I'll clean all this up, alright? Go ahead and relax on the sofa. You can order the pizza and get Cucumber Fish queued up while I finish up in here."
"Okay," she murmured. Another peck, and she curled up on the couch. She pulled out her phone to order the pizza and smiled at the notifications she'd gotten from the RFA chatroom. They were up to their normal antics again. Hopefully, Saeyoung wouldn't exasperate Saeran too much with his crazy propositions. But there was nothing she could do about that, and she was starving and in desperate need of pizza. Once it was ordered, she turned on the TV and selected the episode, making sure to let it run past the ads before pausing it.
After Vanderwood joined her on the couch, the next forty-five minutes was filled with lots of cuddling and pizza devouring, more kissing than watching the show, a few glances at the cake's progress, an agreement to actually watch the episode while they ate the cake, and several minutes of cooling time after the cake was removed from the oven. Vanderwood emerged from the kitchen after a few minutes of setting up to decorate.
"Are you sure you want to put on the mask again?" he asked. "I don't want it to mess with your head like it did last time."
"I'll be fine, babe. I'm pretty sure it was like that last time just because I was starving."
"Are you positive?"
"Yes."
"If you say so. Go ahead and get them on, then," he said, handing MC the apron and mask.
"Just make sure to lead me into the kitchen again."
"Hmm, we'll see."
"We'll see?" she repeated, but shrieked soon after when she no longer felt the ground beneath her feet. Vanderwood had scooped her up to carry her into the kitchen bridal-style and sank his lips against hers with intentionality. He bumped into the counter but managed to avoid any damage to his wife. He deposited one last kiss on her lips before setting her down.
"What have you done to me, woman? Years and years of agent skills, undone in a moment. If it were anything or anyone else, I never would have bumped into that worktop. But when it's you kissing me, you're the only thing that exists." He grinned. "It's a shame, really. I thought my dexterity was an impressive skill, but I don't even have that anymore, it seems."
"Shame indeed," MC parroted, trying to steal another kiss from his lips and stealing one from his nostrils instead. She made a face, causing Vanderwood to laugh.
"Well, at least I still have the ability to order you around." MC smacked him in response, and he continued, "Alright, alright, let's get to it then. This is where it'll get really interesting, since decorating requires more precision. Which, no offense, is a skill you don't have, since you're not exactly used to being blind."
"Now wait just a—okay, I can't argue that," MC sighed. He placed a spatula in one hand and a jar of frosting in her other.
"Turn around. Can you find where the cake is?"
"Ye—wait, Vandy! I thought you said you cleaned up!"
"I did…sort of." Before she could protest, he interjected, "I wiped the worktop! I just pushed all the dishes to one side so we could put all of it in the dishwasher at once when we were done!" He added with a mumble, "I just wanted to get back to you."
"You think you can charm your way out of anything," MC responded airily. "Well, you're right." She squared up as best she could with a frosting jar in hand. "I found the cake. I'll try to do my best."
"Well, in this part, I won't let you go completely solo. I can rotate the cake for you as you go, if you want."
"Please."
MC scooped a large helping of frosting from the jar and started spreading around the perimeter. Her spatula made a slight detour for a moment to donate some frosting to the top of the cake, and Vanderwood halted and reversed his rotation slightly to avoid confusion. A few seconds later, she went for another, slightly smaller, scoop to finish frosting the circumference of the cake. Another scoop, added to the deposit from the first, finished off the top.
"Is there a big corner around the top edge? Or any dry spots?" she asked.
"Just a slight corner. Grab a little bit more frosting to round it off a bit and thicken the top."
She did as directed while he helped rotate, and stepped back. "Better?"
"Much better. Maybe we can add a little artistic touch by making some...what do you call them? Swoops? Around the sides from the top?"
"Sounds great. You're definitely going to have to help me, though."
"Alright, I'll rotate again and stop you when you're done. Then you can smooth off the top edge again quick."
Six slightly lopsided arcs later, he stepped back for a moment, observing. "This is certainly not the prettiest cake I've seen, but it all adds to the fun, yeah?"
"I guess," she laughed.
"Now here's the part that'll really get a laugh when you take off the blindfold. I've got a bowl over here with some frosting for smaller decorating, and you get to pick the food coloring that goes in it."
"Oh no."
"Oh yes," he snickered while guiding her over to a trio of colored bottles that she couldn't discern. "Take your pick," he said cheerily. MC gingerly selected one, and he suppressed a snort poorly. "Excellent choice!"
MC groaned. "I'm going to regret all my life choices, aren't I?"
"Of course not! Only your decision to marry me."
"Hey." She squeezed his wrist. "I could never regret that."
"You might reevaluate that statement when you take off the blindfold and see the cake. Or at least my ugly mug."
"Vanderwood. Don't you even start with me. You're so hot that if we were working with chocolate instead of a cake, we wouldn't need the microwave to melt it."
"You're so hot that the beach would need sunblock instead of you."
"You're so hot that the sun goes to you when it needs to warm up."
They collapsed against each other, gasping for air. Vanderwood caught his breath first. "Let's get this food coloring in the bowl, shall we? The spoon and frosting are already in it. All you have to do is put a few drops in and stir until I say so. The bowl's on your left."
"As you wish," she said as she did so.
After a few moments, he spoke. "That's enough. Let me get you back over to the cake, and I'll get the frosting in the decorating bag. Which is really just an ordinary plastic bag, but I did pick up some cheap decorating tips when I got the ingredients."
"Splendid. How am I going to decorate, though? Even if I could see, I don't know the first thing about cake decorating. Oh yeah, and I can't see."
"Don't get your 'panties in a bunch,' as you like to tell me so often. I'll do it with you this time."
"But you don't know how to decorate cakes, either!"
"Ah-ah-ah!” he chided. “Do you trust me or not?"
"Not particularly."
"Hey!"
"But! We should just go ahead and do it anyway, because even though neither of us knows what we're doing, we're the only ones in this apartment who can. And the frosting smells too good not to eat soon."
"That's my girl." Vanderwood curled around her. He molded one hand around hers and slid the other over her stomach. As they formed a few swirls on the top, he murmured, "We did this whole thing together. How impressive is that? Was it as fun for you as it was for me?"
MC smiled. "Of course it was. I know I got a little hangry for a bit there, but I know how much thought you put into this. None of my old deadbeat ex-boyfriends ever would have cared so much, let alone shown it. These are the things that make me love you that much more."
"I never experienced any permanent love until you showed it to me. And it's been so...world-altering—that I've been trying to wrap my head around it ever since. I still can't. But I swear I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to give you the same love you've given me. I certainly don't deserve it, after the things I've done. But you do. You deserve all the happiness a person can have."
MC paused and blushed slightly. "Vandy…" She exhaled. "We've gone over this whole 'not deserving it' thing. Whether you deserve it or not doesn't matter. To me, what matters is your heart. You have such a beautiful heart, Vandy. I love the kind of man you've become. I've seen you strive every day to be better than you were the day before, and that is so inspiring."
"Well, whether or not I deserve happiness, I would choose to be happy every day if my being happy made you happy." He squeezed her hip affectionately and pulled her in for a tender kiss.
"It would." She kissed him back. They added one last swirl and a border before they set down the bag of frosting. He uncurled her fingers and fiddled with her wedding ring.
"Are you ready to see it?"
"Sure."
He slipped off the blindfold, and she gasped.
"What have we done?" she exclaimed as her laughing grew louder by the second.
"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Vanderwood asked, feigning ignorance.
"The cake is bright flaming orange, Vandy!" She let out a snort, then covered her face. "Hey, wait! All the food coloring was the same color too, you little twit!"
He shrugged innocently. MC sputtered. "Nuh-uh. Don't you shrug at me, mister. Saeyoung has rubbed off on you way too much."
"Has not."
She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, maybe the tiniest bit."
"Uh huh, that's what I thought. Now are you as ready as I am to eat this cake and watch Cucumber Fish?"
"Let me take a picture first. And another one with you in it? You look so lovely, I can't not have one with you in it."
She tried desperately to keep a frown on her face as he snapped a picture but couldn't quite hold back the quirk at the corner of her mouth. He cut a slice for each of them and handed one to her. He curled the paper plate around his slice, and she did likewise. They looked each other in the eyes, both knowing exactly what would come next. Vanderwood solidified his stance. "Ready...steady...GO!" The couple raced to the living room and took a running jump onto the couch, ready for the wonderful night ahead.
This is my piece for the @mysme-rbb ! It was so much fun working with @autxmnn27 who wrote the fic pairing for this piece! We decided on doing a Flowershop AU with Saeran; please go check out Autumn’s fic, which I’ll reblog soon!
Thank you so much to my partner and the hosts of this project! It was great being able to interact with so many creators that are into Mystic Messenger. Go check out the other content that was created for this project under the RBB tags below!
Forgive it being a bit messy, I ended up having to do this one on my phone, but I’m glad I got it done!
Note: This is an AU! Saeran owns a flower shop! Jaehee has a coffee shop!
This is it! My part for the Saeran artwork that my partner @pinkdiamondsrose has done! Thank you yet again to @mysme-rbb for hosting this wonderful event! I’m very grateful for the opportunity to be able to write and create these oneshots! Be sure to check out the other artworks under the rbb too!
“Oh, a customer!” A gentle voice speaks up, startling the brunette who almost dropped her coffee on the flowers. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that, sorry.” He says, carefully inspecting the flowers. “Oh, haha... I almost dropped my drink on the,” She starts as she turns around, meeting the eyes of the red haired male. He appeared to be taller than what the brunette thought, and to top it all off he had gorgeous Mint eyes that left her in a comforted trance. “Gloxinias. The flowers I mean.” She mumbled, too busy admiring the soft orbs which met her own. “Beautiful flowers aren’t they? I got them to bloom just a few days ago. Do you also dabble in floral language?” He asks, suddenly taking an interest in the daisies that were right next to her. She shakes her head. “I don’t really, my friend used to dabble in that. Which speaking of, I need a small bouquet for a little occasion I’m having later this evening.” “Mm, I see. Who’s it for? A friend? Lover? Family?” He asks, starting to pick up a few flowers around her. “It’s for a friend. I need something that uh, what’s the word?” She spouts, her head lost in thought for what seemed like a minute. “Then what about these? Blue Violets?” He asks, meeting her gaze once more. “I think that would best suit your friend. Judging from the way you’ve talked about them, it seems like you want to convey that you’ll be there for them.” Her eyes widen, almost as if he’d read her like an open book. “You got it spot on. By the way, I don’t think I’ve introduced myself have I? My name is MC. How about you?”
“I’m Saeran Choi. Pleasure.” He extends the flowers over to her, and she grabs them tenderly. It’s only then that he notices a smile forming on her face, and he feels a little bit embarrassed to think that she looked rather cute. “Ah, I should ask, how much are these? These look really well tended...” Normally Saeran would have charged her full price, instead he was thinking if he was going to give her a discount or not. “Those are three dollars.” He blurts out, not thinking of anything else at the moment. “Only three? I couldn’t possibly offer that much. Here, take fifteen.” She hands him a few bills, muttering that he should keep whatever change is there. With a hasty dash, she leaves a dumbfounded Saeran in between the Yellow and Red flowers that were also around them.
—
Later that week, he doesn’t encounter MC in the flower shop, but in the coffee shop across the street. He knew Jaehee (who just so happened to be the owner) for quite some time and wanted to visit her. He decided to bring her a few yellow roses as he knew she favored them greatly. “Ah, Saeran! The usual?” She says, taking the bouquet from his hands. Saeran nods, sitting right next to MC. “Fancy seeing you here, Mr Flower shop.” She says, flashing a smile at him. He felt heat rushing to his cheeks, though he tried not to let it distract him. “I didn’t know you were such a coffeeholic MC.” “Well you caught me. Though Jaehee makes the best coffee anywhere. Do you usually come here?” He nods, before noticing the drink she had ordered. “Is that a white mocha?”
“Seems like you have taste. It’s one of my favorite drinks here, and I usually grab it on the way home with Jaehee.” “Was she the friend you mentioned?” MC blushes, and nods. “Yeah, she was. She had some big event and I wanted to support her. She loved the flowers by the way. I’m really amazed that you somehow knew she’d like them.” He chuckles, before speaking up again. “I just have this instinct when it comes to flowers. Call it intuition but I just feel connected to all flowers in a way.” MC nodded, her drink long forgotten on the table. “Well, what do you think represents you then? I mean, call me dumb but I just think daises represent you.” “Why so? Is it because we were around them when we first met?” Saeran says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Well, not just that but I think Blue Salvia’s too.” She paused, taking interest in her drink yet again. “What about me? What do you think represents me?”
“I think Carnations represent you. They’re beautiful just like the way you’re able to do small things with a lot of meaning to it.” “You think so? Well, I don’t know about that exactly.” His lips curl into a small frown. “I can see that you just radiate strength, MC. Like Gladiolus.” He grabs her hands, bringing them closer to him. “You shouldn’t push yourself down like this. You’re amazing, I mean it.” “You’re pretty neat yourself too. And thank you for the kind words.” As if the world wanted to interrupt them, her phone buzzes with a notification and she frowns. “That’s probably my manager. I think he needs me on the job soon.” “Your manager?” She mumbles a brief ‘yes’, before hastily handing her phone to him. “Yeah. How about you just enter your number in? I think we can maybe continue the conversation later about flowers…” A smile curls on Saeran’s lips as he enters his number into her phone.
I sure have a good story to tell my brother later in that case.
a jumin fic with the theme of purple hyacinths. in flower language, the purple hyacinth means “sorrow” or “forgive me”. this is angst and could be considered heavy angst so take care.
we got our works posted in time so i can announce that @just-mysme-headshots and i teamed up as ghost pinch hitters for @mysme-rbb and this was my half. i always adore working with boss, she inspires me so much!
check out her art here!
preview:
It had been sunny and bright, a beautiful day for a drive. After learning how to from Driver Kim, Jumin had found a day of driving to be a wonderful family outing. With his wife in the passenger seat, their child happily babbling in the backseat, Jumin couldn’t imagine a happier time. He now understood Luicel’s love of automobiles, though Jumin had no desire to collect numerous cars. The convertible he’d bought served the family just fine.
Wonderful collab with @anon-drabble for the @mysme-rbb. I am so happy that I could be one of the mods for this project, even if the end of the semester kept me busy...
Of course, this piece is based on the purple hyacinths, which mean “sorrow” or “forgive me.” Egg’s (angst) fic can be found here~
This was a collab with _digitxl_ on Instagram who drew an awesome piece to go with this story! It was great working with her and she’s an amazing artist! Check out her piece here!
This was a challenge for me to write and really outside of my comfort zone but I’m glad I did it and I definitely had fun with it! I have a lot of love for Saeyoung, so I hope I managed to portray his character well while carrying through some themes from the Secret Endings. Enjoy! Do let me know your thoughts after reading, I’d love the feedback ^^
Rays of warm sunlight shone down, reflecting in the glassy metal of the car. The engine revved as the vehicle sped across the streets, echoes of cheerful conversation and laughter dancing on the gust of wind left in its wake. The windows were opened as they raced toward their destination, letting in a swift breeze that whipped the girl’s long hair.
Apologies for the long wait my readers! Something personal came up, and I had to hear some extremely sad news about one of my closest friends. I had to take a break from social media, for a few days, but I’m back! Again this is the second part to my Jumin fic! Huge shoutout to my partner @yeleleow and also thank you to @mysme-rbb for hosting the lovely event!! Enjoy the fic!
To say that Jumin was nervous could be accurate. After talking with Jihyun on how to approach the girl, he still felt unconfident. “How bold of you to go and suddenly ask me for advice, Sir.” Luciel was sat across Jumin in his private chamber, which admittedly made him nervous given the other male’s track record. “What do you think she’d like? I don’t think I’ve kept enough eye contact with her. Not to mention she doesn’t understand the pick me up lines Jihyun has told me about.” He rubs Elizabeth the third lovingly, but even she seemed to have noticed his hesitation towards the girl. “You’re so lame. That’s not how you talk to girls! You make jokes about yourself.” Luciel says, trying to suppress a laugh. “Besides, she’s not interested in pick-up lines. She prefers if you’re upfront about stuff like that.”
Jumin looks at Elizabeth the third who also seemed to blink twice in response to what Luciel was telling him. “See, even the cat agrees with me. Come on, it’s now or never Jumin. And speaking of cats…” Jumin catches this, and instinctively puts a hand in front of Luciel. “I never allowed you in here to play with Elizabeth the Third.” “But Ju-ju!!”
—
“Jumin, I’m a little bit tired of wearing the blindfold... Can I please take it off?” MC asks, her hand reaching to remove the blindfold. “Not yet. I want this to be a surprise.” Jumin replied, continuing to guide her through the flower field. “This is probably what I should have expected from what Luciel told me. You’re definitely not playing a joke on me right?” “I don’t know what Luciel told you but I assure you, this is not a joke.” MC breathes a sigh of relief, knowing her half brother wasn’t tricking her like he usually did. Though she couldn’t see at the moment, she was able to hear a small draft of wind, and smell the flora around her. She only assumed they were in some sort of garden, or forest.
“You know, I was always sort of afraid of doing things like this, you know?” She finally admits, breaking the silence between them. “How so? Does it have something to do with Luciel?” Jumin asks, stopping her from walking. He turns her around and grips her hands, making sure he wasn’t squeezing too hard. She shakes her head. “It’s not related to him. I assume you know Saejoung, the neighboring duke?” “Why yes. Luciel has mentioned a few things here and there.” “We have a complicated relationship. I dislike what my father has done throughout my life. It’s always been no rest for me. I just to hate the way he easily takes from those who need it more. He’s selfish, and...” She pauses, the corners of her mouth curling into a frown. “I hate how I’m so easily associated with him. Anything I do, like taking a walk is met with some distaste. Even when I got the position, I was so scared you’d end up shutting me out too.”
Jumin removes the blindold from the girl gently, though he notices it was a tiny bit damp. He brushes a tear off of her face, and closes the gap between them. He kisses her gently, as if to signify that he was going to be there for her and support her. They break away after what felt like an eternity, and he smiled at her kindly. “MC, who your connections are don’t matter. The girl I’ve come to know over the last few weeks is an amazing person. It’s been hard for me to hold these thoughts back.” He says, gripping her hands tightly. “I want to be with you. I want to be able to do more things like this, together. I want to be yours.” She notices Jihyun, who was at a far enough distance, yet within her line of sight. He smiles at her, giving a thumbs up. She sighs, contentedly. “I do, too. In fact, I have for a while.”
Though they didn’t realize that Jihyun had also painted red strings, that were linking the two of them together.
This is my second slightly belated piece for @mysme-rbb and for this I was partnered with @aniskul to write a piece for Jumin!! They were very lovely to work with and always super kind and understanding, please look at how much detail went into their artwork and be sure to check out their account!! <3 <3
- Art by @aniskul and the writing is by me!
Jumin stood with Elizabeth the 3rd in his arms, pressed against his chest soundly asleep. She was oblivious to the dark, stormy weather of that night. He wasn’t quite sure what spurred the thought on, but he thought of Rika and how she had vanished from this world, and as he watched his small cat wriggle in his arms, he realised that she, too, would one day leave him. Jumin had thought that he would be fine on his own, he had been before he had Elizabeth the 3rd, so surely, he would be fine after her. Surely.
He pondered his life without Elizabeth the 3rd, the loss of her. How he would have no one to greet in the morning, no one to talk to in his penthouse, no one to greet when he came home. The emptiness of it. The loneliness. Was he lonely? Jumin had never really considered himself as lonely, but he knew how alone he would feel if he no longer had Elisabeth the 3rd.
He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to seek out a ‘partner’ for Elizabeth the 3rd, but it had been a rigorous process. He had spent several weeks researching and interviewing different candidates but struggled to find a male cat that would be good enough for her. He had even had Jaehee working overtime to help him accomplish the task. When he had eventually settled on a father, he had also been a purebred white Persian male with a calm, sweet temperament by the name of Biscuit. Jumin wasn’t entirely sure what he thought of the name, since it seemed rather inelegant for a cat so handsome, but Saeyoung had seemed to enjoy the comedy of it when Jumin spoke of his intentions in the chat. Of course, Saeyoung had also begged Jumin to let him adopt one of Elizabeth the 3rd’s kittens and had been met with a resounding ‘Absolutely not.’ He could never subject a poor kitten to such torture, especially one of Elizabeth the 3rd’s beautiful, perfect children.
Jumin sighed, as a small paw batted at his cheek. It took him a short few moments to figure out why he wasn’t in his bed before the soft cries met his hears once again and he was suddenly wide awake. Elizabeth the 3rd was in labour, she had curled up on the bed next to him and cried in complaints at him. He had employed an entire team of veterinary staff to ensure that her entire pregnancy had gone well, because he wouldn’t put her at any more risk than what was necessary, but she had started delivering almost a week before she was expected to and Jumin had been forced to clear out his entire schedule in order to be with her. He also called the slightly disgruntled medical team out of their homes to be at his penthouse within the hour.
It had been quite a lengthy ordeal, spanning the entire night and consisted of Jumin rarely letting Elizabeth leave his sight while the medical team monitored her vitals. While Zen had claimed it was rather dramatic of him to hire people to monitor her birth when she was ‘just a cat’, Jumin had no real idea of how to help her. He, himself, had no prior experience with cats before he had been gifted Elizabeth, and he had no intentions of replacing the role of a trained professional when it came to helping her.
But by morning, Elizabeth the 3rd had delivered five very small, white kittens. She was well and was already being a very good mother to her new-borns, as Jumin knew she would be, since she was so naturally gifted at everything she set her heart out to do. They were feeding well and he had already chosen their names as Athena, Victoria, Icarus, Edward and, finally, Elizabeth the 4th. They were perfect images of their mother and, for a while, filled that void that had been unknowingly forming in Jumin’s chest.
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Jumin sighed, closing his front door. It had been an unusually long day. He took his suit jacket off and placed it onto his couch, announcing to Elizabeth the 3rd that he was home. He was met with a singular long meow from her, and several smaller squeaks from her kittens. The kittens had their own room during the day, even though it pained Jumin to keep them behind a closed door while he was out, he didn’t want to risk any of them hurting themselves and him not being able to help them. He always looked forward to seeing them when he got home so late. This day was no different, and he was eager to go back to see them all, eager to have someone excited to see him when he got home.
He prepared their meals, set each place on a diamond-encrusted platter and opened the door to their dayroom. He greeted Elizabeth the 3rd, who was immediately curled into his arms purring while the small white blurs jumped playfully at his suit trousers. He softly petted each of them as they ate before carrying Elizabeth the 3rd over to watch the sun go down over the city with him. Jumin wanted to be closer to the kittens but didn’t want to risk endangering any of them by attempting to carry them all, so instead he sat on the floor next to the large window with them. He hoped that they inherited their mother’s taste for fine views, but they seemed more concerned with playing around in his lap. Well, he was sure that fine taste would come with time.
Jumin sat in silence for a while, wondering why his apartment seemed so quiet despite there being so many living things in it. Living things that could make noise, and play, and talk, and- Oh. They couldn’t talk. He couldn’t have a two-sided conversation with them. He couldn’t ask them about their day or have them ask about his. Is that what he was missing? Conversation? He thought for a moment that perhaps he should call V to come over and share a bottle of wine with him like they used to, but he remembered that V was often away on business too and wouldn’t be able to come over at such short notice. Who else did he have to talk to? His father? He’d rather not deal with his father’s new love interest. Assistant Kang? He already saw enough of her at work. Zen? He scoffed at the thought alone. Absolutely not. So, who?
And it occurred to Jumin, in that second, that he didn’t really have anyone to talk to. While he loved Elizabeth the 3rd and her children, they were not what he was lacking in his life. He needed someone that he could talk to on a mutual level. He wanted to hear about their thoughts and interests, what they thought about the wine over dinner and to help him pick out his tie in the morning. Jumin didn’t have anyone like that, and he realised that he had been attempting to fill the hole in his chest through the wrong course of action. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he was lonely, but the truth of the matter was that Jumin was alone. He was alone at work, and he was alone at home.
IT IS DONE!!! Here is my piece for the great @mysme-rbb!! It was quite a bit of work, especially since my personal life decided to become as stressful as possible just as I started to work on it, but I did it! late….but I did it. don’t @ me
My partner who did the adorable illustration for this amazing project was the wonderful @Azil_Draws on Instagram!! Please go over there and send them and their art lots of love, they’re a lovely artist and such a nice and patient person >.<
Hello! This is one of my slightly belated pieces for @mysme-rbb, which I worked on with the very, very talented and sweet @amagicalduckling <3 Their art is so beautiful and I’m honoured to have been paired with them for some Saeran pieces! Please check out @amagicalduckling for more of their beautiful artwork, they are criminally underrated!!
Tw: mentions of blood, biting, vampirism, rough kissing
Will be under the cut after Ray!
Vampire! Ray Drabble
Ray was melancholic by nature, you knew that, but you’d never had been able to guess why it if hadn’t been for that fateful night in the garden. He always did such a good job of hiding his fangs from you and brushing his hair over his ears so you couldn’t see their slightly pointed tips. He always kept his distance as best as he could, never coming too close into your personal space. You’d assumed it was out of respect and the nervousness of overstepping the boundaries, this idea was always aided by the fact that he usually looked a little bit strained whenever he was in your company.
The way you came to find out about Ray was because you had foolishly pricked your finger on a rose that he had been trying to show you outside. With the beautiful arrangements only being illuminated by moonlight, it had been difficult to see what you were doing, and you’d placed your finger directly onto the little spike and yelped in pain. As soon as you had pulled your hand back, to indicate what had caused you to cry out, Ray had immediately brought his own hand up to his mouth and feverishly covered it. You were confused and thought that perhaps Ray was sensitive to the sight of blood, but it was when he turned to run from you that you saw the white, iridescent fangs peering from behind his lips. You saw them, and he knew that you had. Ray ran at top speed away from you, leaving you with the drop of the blood slowly dripping down the side of your finger.
You felt a little lightheaded from the sight and had to stumble your way over to the bench, a… vampire? Surely, such things like that didn’t exist. They weren’t real. They were myths. Folklore. Children’s horror stories to tell before bed. And yet, as you considered Ray, really thought about him, you realised how quickly it all added up. He was so pale, sickly looking even at the best of times. You’d thought that the prominent blue veins on his neck and wrists was a result of his pasty complexion, but that was clearly not the truth of the matter. It also occurred to you that you never really saw him during the day, but he had always excused this fact as he must work arduously long hours and the only time he could find to get away and visit you was into the early hours of the night. While you supposed that there was at least some truth in that statement, it didn’t help the fact that it aligned with what you thought could be coming into fruition. Was he really a vampire? Had he been trying to hide it from you for all this time?
And those fangs. Those could not be denied. They were the teeth of a predator, a hidden threat that he had tried so hard to keep a secret from you. So many questions raced through your head, and yet all you could worry about was where Ray was. He had left so quickly, clearly a bit distressed. You felt somewhat guilty for your own carelessness, but how were you to know? There was no way you would have guessed what was really happening here at Mint Eye. You had only been here to test a game, for crying out loud.
Suddenly, you felt anxious to be alone in the gardens at night, especially without Ray. Even if he was hiding something this serious from you, he was still the only person that you had gotten to make yourself friendly with. Well, in his case, more than a little bit friendly, but that was besides the point in that moment. You stood, trying to find your way through the maze of flowers and get back to your room but with little success. As you turned the corner, you spotted a figure at the other end of the path and it caused you to cry out in surprise, maybe slightly even in fear. It was Ray.
You’d never thought that the sight of Ray would ever frighten you, but as he stood there, pale and gaunt surrounded by the red flushes of rose petals, you had to wonder how you hadn’t realised it sooner. He looked guilty, and scared. So, so scared. You put your hands up to him slowly, asking if he was okay, but instead of receiving any sort of reply about his own wellbeing, Ray flurried out several apologies at you. He averted his gaze downwards, as though he felt as though he was no longer allowed to look at you directly for what he was. You stared at him as he spoke, focused on the slight protrusion of his sharp teeth over his lips. It was obvious that he had practiced speaking without making them visible, so you could only really see them if you were already looking for them.
‘Ray… It’s okay.’ You whispered, coming a little bit closer to him. He took a step back, moving his back up against the roses further so that he was surrounded by them. If it had been at any other moment, you would have taken the time to think about the fact he looked like a delicate portrait right then, the passion of the red surrounding his pale frame. But alas, you did not have that luxury.
‘It’s not! I scared you, oh how could I ever forgive myself! How could you ever forgive me for this! I should have been able to show more restraint… My savior was right, she’s always right…’ He replied almost frantically, to the point where you weren’t quite sure if he was talking to you or telling you his own inner monologue.
‘M-My Savior said that I’m not strong enough yet, which is why I find… you difficult to be around. I want to be around you always but- she says you’re too tempting for someone like me.’
‘Too tempting…?’ You asked, a slightly unsure as to what he meant. That was, until he gestured to your bleeding fingertip, and it suddenly made more sense to you. ‘I don’t mind if you… want to be around me. I want to be around you too.’ You added, attempting to phrase it in the same way that he did, since he was clearly skirting around using certain vocabulary. It made you realised that there was a good chance that Ray was unhappy about the fact he wanted you in such a way. If he allowed himself to get too close, he would inevitably bring you pain.
As you stepped closer to him, you watched as he reached his own leathered hand towards his mouth, anxiously biting onto the tips of the fabric. He wasn’t just chewing it, he was really biting it, to the point you were worried he might hurt himself.
You were suddenly moving quickly down the path towards him, ‘Ray! Please, stop that. It’s okay! I’m not scared of you.’
‘I’m scared that I might hurt you!’ He almost wailed. You knew that there was an obsessive nature to Ray, which walked hand in hand with his melancholy, but you knew that he wouldn’t hurt you like this. For the most part, he was tender-hearted and sensitive. Of course, he had room in that heart for hate, but yet, so much more room for sensitivity.
‘You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you.’
‘Please, be more careful with who you award your trust to. I don’t deserve it.’ He replied, but pulled his own glove away stiffly, since he didn’t want to worry you any further. At such a distance, he had nothing to distract himself from the pull he felt towards your blood.
‘If you want it, take it. I don’t want to see you be so strained over this. I don’t know what’s happening here at Magenta, but I know that you’re good. And kind.’ You were at his side, offering your hand to him. Initially, he tried to move his body away from your hand and cover his teeth again with his hand, but it was evident that he was growing more and more needy by the passing second. You tried to assure him that it was okay and reached out a slightly shaky hand to his cold cheek. ‘And I want to help you.’
After a few moments of tentative consideration, he took your offer. Ray watched your eyes as he held your finger in both of his hands, as though it was something fragile, delicate even. He hesitated before bringing it to his own lips, the thin line of dark red suddenly giving a burst of colour to his otherwise exceedingly white pallor. He gently took the blood that was already at the surface of your skin, closing his eyes as he did so, but you couldn’t decide whether it was out of shame or whether it was to savour the moment between the two of you. You gasped as you felt the sharpness of his teeth graze against your skin before he let the tip of them bite into your soft flesh, producing more of the red he was so desperately craving. It wasn’t as painful as you thought it would be, but your heart was still racing, nonetheless. When he was done, he pressed a single, sorry kiss into the palm of your hand and apologised for hurting you, adding that he was undeserving of your pain as he wiped the rest of the blood away with a handkerchief out of his pocket.
‘I’d rather be hurt a thousand times over than for you to have to suffer even once…’ He whispered into the darkness of the garden. Not that he would feel bold enough to tell you, but Ray undeniably saw the poetry in tasting your blood. He’s ashamed of what he is, but he relished in the fact that you were willing to share such a vital piece of yourself with him like this. He entirely made a mental plan to carry the handkerchief with him at all times, as a token and reminder of this newfound connection with you.
Another piece for the @mysme-rbb! This one is a pinch writing for Kit! Her Instagram is lil-kitkat18. This is her gorgeous art; give her post some love!!
This fic uses Kit’s cmc, also named Kit :)
It was a quiet Saturday night. The streets are empty, and the house is still. No sound could be heard from the Kim residence. Well, except for the yelling coming from Yoosung’s room.
“Quick! Go left! I’ll take him on the right!"
Yoosung is gaming far too late into the night—or morning rather—for a college student. He said he was going to play games less so that he could focus on college, but old habits die hard. Once again, he is lost in the LoLoL world at 3 A.M.
Here is the first fic I wrote for the @mysme-rbb! It’s pretty different from anything I’ve written before, and I’m really excited to share it. I had such a wonderful time collaborating with AlyValery, who made this beautiful artwork. Check out her post here.
one
Zen falls in love with her first. For him, it is like leaping into cool, clear water.
There is something about her, from the first time he speaks to her (and she is just words on a screen then, voiceless and non-corporeal): something about her reels him in, makes his heart eel fizzy. It is only when she’s in his home, though—sitting so calmly on his couch, hands clasped neatly in her lap—that he realizes just how deep underwater he has fallen.
“Sorry,” he says to her—and for what? For his small, underground apartment, when she deserves a palace? For bringing her here, or for the danger he didn’t know she was in, or for the strange thickness he feels in the space between them?
She shakes her head, and a lock of hair falls into her eyes. She brushes it away with careful fingers and Zen feels that his heart is trying to fight its way out of his chest.
“You’re like my knight in shining armor right now,” she says—and in spite of it all, she speaks with a certainty that makes his head spin. For his whole life, he has been searching for the sort of sureness that seems to radiate off her. He feels dizzy as he sits beside her—leaving space between them, still (because she feels untouchable to him—because she is too wonderful for this world).
This is for @mysme-rbb ‘s Reverse Big Bang! I don’t really know what to put here other than that I had a bunch of fun drawing Jumin and the kittens! My partner wanted me to post both her written and my drawn part, so I hope it’s ok! @amysteriousmessenger ‘s writing is so perfect and I’m so glad I got paired with her! 💞💞 Be sure to visit her blog as well! ^^
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Jumin stood with Elizabeth the 3rd in his arms, pressed against his chest soundly asleep. She was oblivious to the dark, stormy weather of that night. He wasn’t quite sure what spurred the thought on, but he thought of Rika and how she had vanished from this world, and as he watched his small cat wriggle in his arms, he realised that she, too, would one day leave him. Jumin had thought that he would be fine on his own, he had been before he had Elizabeth the 3rd, so surely, he would be fine after her. Surely.
He pondered his life without Elizabeth the 3rd, the loss of her. How he would have no one to greet in the morning, no one to talk to in his penthouse, no one to greet when he came home. The emptiness of it. The loneliness. Was he lonely? Jumin had never really considered himself as lonely, but he knew how alone he would feel if he no longer had Elisabeth the 3rd.
He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to seek out a ‘partner’ for Elizabeth the 3rd, but it had been a rigorous process. He had spent several weeks researching and interviewing different candidates but struggled to find a male cat that would be good enough for her. He had even had Jaehee working overtime to help him accomplish the task. When he had eventually settled on a father, he had also been a purebred white Persian male with a calm, sweet temperament by the name of Biscuit. Jumin wasn’t entirely sure what he thought of the name, since it seemed rather inelegant for a cat so handsome, but Saeyoung had seemed to enjoy the comedy of it when Jumin spoke of his intentions in the chat. Of course, Saeyoung had also begged Jumin to let him adopt one of Elizabeth the 3rd’s kittens and had been met with a resounding ‘Absolutely not.’ He could never subject a poor kitten to such torture, especially one of Elizabeth the 3rd’s beautiful, perfect children.
Jumin sighed, as a small paw batted at his cheek. It took him a short few moments to figure out why he wasn’t in his bed before the soft cries met his hears once again and he was suddenly wide awake. Elizabeth the 3rd was in labour, she had curled up on the bed next to him and cried in complaints at him. He had employed an entire team of veterinary staff to ensure that her entire pregnancy had gone well, because he wouldn’t put her at any more risk than what was necessary, but she had started delivering almost a week before she was expected to and Jumin had been forced to clear out his entire schedule in order to be with her. He also called the slightly disgruntled medical team out of their homes to be at his penthouse within the hour.
It had been quite a lengthy ordeal, spanning the entire night and consisted of Jumin rarely letting Elizabeth leave his sight while the medical team monitored her vitals. While Zen had claimed it was rather dramatic of him to hire people to monitor her birth when she was ‘just a cat’, Jumin had no real idea of how to help her. He, himself, had no prior experience with cats before he had been gifted Elizabeth, and he had no intentions of replacing the role of a trained professional when it came to helping her.
But by morning, Elizabeth the 3rd had delivered five very small, white kittens. She was well and was already being a very good mother to her new-borns, as Jumin knew she would be, since she was so naturally gifted at everything she set her heart out to do. They were feeding well and he had already chosen their names as Athena, Victoria, Icarus, Edward and, finally, Elizabeth the 4th. They were perfect images of their mother and, for a while, filled that void that had been unknowingly forming in Jumin’s chest.
Jumin sighed, closing his front door. It had been an unusually long day. He took his suit jacket off and placed it onto his couch, announcing to Elizabeth the 3rd that he was home. He was met with a singular long meow from her, and several smaller squeaks from her kittens. The kittens had their own room during the day, even though it pained Jumin to keep them behind a closed door while he was out, he didn’t want to risk any of them hurting themselves and him not being able to help them. He always looked forward to seeing them when he got home so late. This day was no different, and he was eager to go back to see them all, eager to have someone excited to see him when he got home.
He prepared their meals, set each place on a diamond-encrusted platter and opened the door to their dayroom. He greeted Elizabeth the 3rd, who was immediately curled into his arms purring while the small white blurs jumped playfully at his suit trousers. He softly petted each of them as they ate before carrying Elizabeth the 3rd over to watch the sun go down over the city with him. Jumin wanted to be closer to the kittens but didn’t want to risk endangering any of them by attempting to carry them all, so instead he sat on the floor next to the large window with them. He hoped that they inherited their mother’s taste for fine views, but they seemed more concerned with playing around in his lap. Well, he was sure that fine taste would come with time.
Jumin sat in silence for a while, wondering why his apartment seemed so quiet despite there being so many living things in it. Living things that could make noise, and play, and talk, and- Oh. They couldn’t talk. He couldn’t have a two-sided conversation with them. He couldn’t ask them about their day or have them ask about his. Is that what he was missing? Conversation? He thought for a moment that perhaps he should call V to come over and share a bottle of wine with him like they used to, but he remembered that V was often away on business too and wouldn’t be able to come over at such short notice. Who else did he have to talk to? His father? He’d rather not deal with his father’s new love interest. Assistant Kang? He already saw enough of her at work. Zen? He scoffed at the thought alone. Absolutely not. So, who?
And it occurred to Jumin, in that second, that he didn’t really have anyone to talk to. While he loved Elizabeth the 3rd and her children, they were not what he was lacking in his life. He needed someone that he could talk to on a mutual level. He wanted to hear about their thoughts and interests, what they thought about the wine over dinner and to help him pick out his tie in the morning. Jumin didn’t have anyone like that, and he realised that he had been attempting to fill the hole in his chest through the wrong course of action. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he was lonely, but the truth of the matter was that Jumin was alone. He was alone at work, and he was alone at home.
This is for @mysme-rbb ‘s Reverse Big Bang! I don’t really know what to put here other than that I had a bunch of fun drawing Jumin and the kittens! My partner wanted me to post both her written and my drawn part, so I hope it’s ok! @amysteriousmessenger ‘s writing is so perfect and I’m so glad I got paired with her! 💞💞 Be sure to visit her blog as well! ^^
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Jumin stood with Elizabeth the 3rd in his arms, pressed against his chest soundly asleep. She was oblivious to the dark, stormy weather of that night. He wasn’t quite sure what spurred the thought on, but he thought of Rika and how she had vanished from this world, and as he watched his small cat wriggle in his arms, he realised that she, too, would one day leave him. Jumin had thought that he would be fine on his own, he had been before he had Elizabeth the 3rd, so surely, he would be fine after her. Surely.
He pondered his life without Elizabeth the 3rd, the loss of her. How he would have no one to greet in the morning, no one to talk to in his penthouse, no one to greet when he came home. The emptiness of it. The loneliness. Was he lonely? Jumin had never really considered himself as lonely, but he knew how alone he would feel if he no longer had Elisabeth the 3rd.
He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to seek out a ‘partner’ for Elizabeth the 3rd, but it had been a rigorous process. He had spent several weeks researching and interviewing different candidates but struggled to find a male cat that would be good enough for her. He had even had Jaehee working overtime to help him accomplish the task. When he had eventually settled on a father, he had also been a purebred white Persian male with a calm, sweet temperament by the name of Biscuit. Jumin wasn’t entirely sure what he thought of the name, since it seemed rather inelegant for a cat so handsome, but Saeyoung had seemed to enjoy the comedy of it when Jumin spoke of his intentions in the chat. Of course, Saeyoung had also begged Jumin to let him adopt one of Elizabeth the 3rd’s kittens and had been met with a resounding ‘Absolutely not.’ He could never subject a poor kitten to such torture, especially one of Elizabeth the 3rd’s beautiful, perfect children.
Jumin sighed, as a small paw batted at his cheek. It took him a short few moments to figure out why he wasn’t in his bed before the soft cries met his hears once again and he was suddenly wide awake. Elizabeth the 3rd was in labour, she had curled up on the bed next to him and cried in complaints at him. He had employed an entire team of veterinary staff to ensure that her entire pregnancy had gone well, because he wouldn’t put her at any more risk than what was necessary, but she had started delivering almost a week before she was expected to and Jumin had been forced to clear out his entire schedule in order to be with her. He also called the slightly disgruntled medical team out of their homes to be at his penthouse within the hour.
It had been quite a lengthy ordeal, spanning the entire night and consisted of Jumin rarely letting Elizabeth leave his sight while the medical team monitored her vitals. While Zen had claimed it was rather dramatic of him to hire people to monitor her birth when she was ‘just a cat’, Jumin had no real idea of how to help her. He, himself, had no prior experience with cats before he had been gifted Elizabeth, and he had no intentions of replacing the role of a trained professional when it came to helping her.
But by morning, Elizabeth the 3rd had delivered five very small, white kittens. She was well and was already being a very good mother to her new-borns, as Jumin knew she would be, since she was so naturally gifted at everything she set her heart out to do. They were feeding well and he had already chosen their names as Athena, Victoria, Icarus, Edward and, finally, Elizabeth the 4th. They were perfect images of their mother and, for a while, filled that void that had been unknowingly forming in Jumin’s chest.
Jumin sighed, closing his front door. It had been an unusually long day. He took his suit jacket off and placed it onto his couch, announcing to Elizabeth the 3rd that he was home. He was met with a singular long meow from her, and several smaller squeaks from her kittens. The kittens had their own room during the day, even though it pained Jumin to keep them behind a closed door while he was out, he didn’t want to risk any of them hurting themselves and him not being able to help them. He always looked forward to seeing them when he got home so late. This day was no different, and he was eager to go back to see them all, eager to have someone excited to see him when he got home.
He prepared their meals, set each place on a diamond-encrusted platter and opened the door to their dayroom. He greeted Elizabeth the 3rd, who was immediately curled into his arms purring while the small white blurs jumped playfully at his suit trousers. He softly petted each of them as they ate before carrying Elizabeth the 3rd over to watch the sun go down over the city with him. Jumin wanted to be closer to the kittens but didn’t want to risk endangering any of them by attempting to carry them all, so instead he sat on the floor next to the large window with them. He hoped that they inherited their mother’s taste for fine views, but they seemed more concerned with playing around in his lap. Well, he was sure that fine taste would come with time.
Jumin sat in silence for a while, wondering why his apartment seemed so quiet despite there being so many living things in it. Living things that could make noise, and play, and talk, and- Oh. They couldn’t talk. He couldn’t have a two-sided conversation with them. He couldn’t ask them about their day or have them ask about his. Is that what he was missing? Conversation? He thought for a moment that perhaps he should call V to come over and share a bottle of wine with him like they used to, but he remembered that V was often away on business too and wouldn’t be able to come over at such short notice. Who else did he have to talk to? His father? He’d rather not deal with his father’s new love interest. Assistant Kang? He already saw enough of her at work. Zen? He scoffed at the thought alone. Absolutely not. So, who?
And it occurred to Jumin, in that second, that he didn’t really have anyone to talk to. While he loved Elizabeth the 3rd and her children, they were not what he was lacking in his life. He needed someone that he could talk to on a mutual level. He wanted to hear about their thoughts and interests, what they thought about the wine over dinner and to help him pick out his tie in the morning. Jumin didn’t have anyone like that, and he realised that he had been attempting to fill the hole in his chest through the wrong course of action. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he was lonely, but the truth of the matter was that Jumin was alone. He was alone at work, and he was alone at home.
I'm so excited to bring all of you our contribution to the @mysme-rbb
I was partnered up with the amazing, talented and creative @yeleleow! I can't get over how well she brought the concept to life in the art above. Seriously, go check out her art and give her a follow, she's amazing!
My contribution to the piece is (of course) some angst. I hope you enjoy ^^
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Laughter surrounds him, bright and beautiful. Their expressions full of the joy of a successful party. But this is no party, this is his ex-Chief Assistant's cafe. A waste of talent in Jumin's educated opinion.
Beside him, Luciel reaches for a confectionery. The red head still refuses to speak to him, angry over a vehicle that Jumin has repeatedly offered to replace. He does not understand the Choi's attachment to materials things, nor the emotion the other chooses to invest in them.
Across the table, Zen meets his eyes. The thespian's gaze slips away to things more interesting than a brooding heir, his expression lighting when Yoosung flushes on his other side, the blonde the victim of good hearted teasing.
The group's joy is in such contrast to his own mood that it is almost painful. It tugs at his tangles viciously, reminding him that, as always, he does not belong.
Usually, V would be sitting beside him. The photographer, in that way of his, would deflect the worst of it. He would calm the hyperactivity of the group and smooth the edges of Jumin's blunt nature. He would act as the bridge between the heir and the others, bright and straightforward. V has been his interpreter for as long as the Han can remember.
But he is not here. On the contrary, Jumin has not spoken with him since their argument. The argument in which he finally cast light on his best friend's lies.
Jumin's gaze flicks to MC as she offers a tray toward him. The platter is full of dainties so sticky sweet that they turn his stomach. Her expression matches them. Sticky sweet and full of promise. Another lie. Another deceit. Not so long ago that smile had been for him. Kind words and understanding tones. They had talked late into the night. But that had only been more dishonesty. The tiny blossom of something soft and sweet stomped out when her fickle attentions turned.
Jumin refuses the tray, returns his attention to his cup of bitter black coffee. Even knowing what he does, he still came today. Because she invited him. Because he cannot shake the soft spot that he has for MC. Foolishly he still looks forward to her smiles. Foolishly he still wishes for her happiness. Even if she, like V, has only taken from him. Because without her encouragement, his Chief Assistant would never have left him. He wonders if it occurred to her, as she turned her attentions on his Chief Assistant, that she has the potential to so irrevocably impact his life.
Why had he come? What possessed him to peel himself away from the endless task of picking up the slack of her departure to be here? Certainly he has better things to do. Back at C&R his large desk practically sags under the piles of reports that await his approval. His new Chief Assistant is less than adequate, struggling under the responsibilities expected of him. And, as expected, it is Jumin's responsibility to fulfil those duties that fall by the wayside. A responsibility in the form of the heir spending late nights and weekends at the office, away from his last true joy. Elizabeth the Third pouts at his absence, refusing his steadfast attempts to tempt her back into his arms.
If it were Assistant Kang the work would be no issue. It would be neatly filed and alphabetized precisely how he likes it. He would be home on time each evening and his princess would have no need to mope.
But then, that is why he is here. To celebrate, with the rest of the RFA, his ex-Chief Assistant's new happiness. To toast her cafe. To share her pride.
And she glows with it. A radiant smile on her face. She is pretty like this, he notes, detached. Elated in her newfound passion. A pity it comes at the cost of his own happiness.
MC notices his stare, offers Jumin a tentative smile. A smile that encourages him to join them, to share in their celebration. But he is in no mood to do so. He has been tempted by her before. Opened his heart to her, developed a fondness for her. Believed himself to have found someone special, a uniquity among women.
When did those feelings sour?
He knows when. He knows precisely how. Those feelings soured as part of a chain of events that has led him to this very moment. Assistant Kang taking her leave. Luciel's car. V's betrayal. Lies. All of them. How could he have been so naive to think that things were changing for the better? That his best friend was returning to him, a presence in his life again. That he had perhaps found someone who understood him, someone to share the things that he adores. All of it a lead up to today, a deception to this moment. Sitting with the RFA in Assistant Kang's new cafè. Together with the RFA but so clearly apart.
He has always been separate from the others. Always standing behind an invisible wall. But now, watching as MC slips her hand into Jaehee's, he has never felt that distance more acutely.
