Hello guys, does anyone miss me? ^^

Sorry, I didn’t post anything new lately, please do know that I’m not leaving Tumblr or MM fandom, I always do my best on my fanart and comic. Might you have a few minutes to read this?

The thing is my parent borrowed thousands of dollars from the bank without my knowledge, now I’m working overtime til 11pm hoping would get the extra money… I’m so stressed out and desperate… I nearly hung myself few weeks ago… God, if we are unable to repay the loans until the end of the year, whatever happen to us, I’m sure it doesn’t seem good at all…

This is why I barely draw or post stuff. Oh, by the way, I created Ko-fiaccount, just a little supportwouldhelp me a lot, I’d appreciate very much and would always be grateful if you can make a donation, if you can’t, it would be nice if you could at least reblog/share this so it gets to more people. And if you donate over 20$, you can requestme illustrationor4koma comic.

Thank you for reading! ❤

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Mah hart strives for fluff

MC: *does something cute*

707 on his route: lol I don’t care

Narrator: but Saeyoung did care

mystictober day 10: seven x mc + space station

seven x mc + space station

words: 690

wanna be tagged? dm me/comment!

!! this i dedicate to jay, @galaxytastes, my one and only starboy. THANK YOU for bringing dear sev into my life.

You’re on the moon.

This, you know because of the view of Earth before you- an image you had only ever seen on screen was right before your very eyes. Below you were craters of moondust, and you stand to look outside the glass pane that separates you from the moon’s atmosphere.

Fifteen.

There are fifteen little redhead children running around in circles, leaving clouds in their wake. They don’t seem to be wearing any spacesuits, nor you for that matter- a quick glance at your reflection confirming what you had already suspected. You were in your normal clothes.

“Honey?” a familiar voice calls out, reverberating against the steel walls of the vessel you stand in. Whipping your head around to face him, you greet your husband with a smile, beckoning him to join you. And here he was: the king of the redheads himself, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You should stop letting them have that stuff,” you hear yourself say matter-of-factly. “I know that’s what you just did.”

“What? Nonsense, angel! It’s important that they know what the superior soda is before anyone else can change their wee little minds! Even if they have to share one can,” he chuckles proudly, puffing his chest out.

“Sev,” your voice carries that tone reserved for situations like this. “We’re the only ones here. No one can tell them that anything’s better than PhD Pepper… except maybe me,” you giggle, and he shakes his head before wrapping his arms around your waist, carrying you to the other end of your moon-house.

“Oh yes, you…”

Your cries and protests are only met with tickles before he finally sets you down in front of a giant telescope.

“I wanna show you something,” Saeyoung whispers with a wicked grin, eyebrows wiggling in excitement.

“What did you do this time, huh?”

“Look into the telescope, my star.”

And so, you do, but not without giving him a look of suspicion.

You’re met with the sight of your name. Beside his, and now your, surname.

Toggling with the lenses, you zoom the telescope out a little bit to see what your married name had been on: a mountain. On Earth.

Your mouth falls into a gasp. Blindly, you reach over to smack his arm. “No, no you didn’t-”

He adjusts his glasses with a smirk that you can’t see.

“Why yes, yes I did, with the help of my trusty laser. Now everyone will know that I married you at the space station,” his voice goes from pride to fondness, pulling you away from the telescope and into his arms.

“Earth knows I love you. Mars is next,” a hushed whisper from your husband as he leans down to capture your lips with his in a chaste kiss. You feel yourself sigh against him as he pulls away, squeezing both of your hands.

“Naming all those stars was enough, you know?” you mumble, blushing.

“No way! I told ya, all the planets in the galaxyshould know!” he chuckles and rubs your arms, kissing your forehead.

He feels warmer this time. You feel this forehead kiss even more than the one earlier and-

Your eyes fly open, met with the sight of your boyfriend pulling himself away from your face. He jumps back, glasses askew with a hand clutching at his chest.

You blink at your surroundings, at Saeyoung’s monitors glowing behind him, at the walls of the bunker- the chip crumbs on his side of the bed.

“Woah there angel, you scared me!” he laughs, coming back to cuddle you again.

“I dreamt of you,” you say, your voice a faraway thing while you try to sink back into reality.

“Ofme?”he says overdramatically, his hand returning to its position on his chest. “What did this lucky alien boy do to make it in your dreams, huh?”

Seven ruffles your hair gently and presses a kiss to your shoulder before hooking his chin over it, awaiting your response.

“There were fifteen baby tomatoes, the moon, and a laser.”

“Tell me everything.”

.*•.° s p a c e d a n c e .•*.°

Hi! This is my first post and, rightfully so, it will be a “little” 10 page long “drabble”. It’s pretty self indulgent and non-romantic. I’m a sucker for angst and platonic affection, so buckle up, simps. Thank you so much for reading!

Words: 3033

TW: Alcohol, mention of death. 

CW: Spoilers for the secret endings/Saeyoung’s after end 

Jumin Han has always been a curious person when it came to commoner practices. Whether it be family traditions, silly superstitions, or childlike games; all of it intrigues the man like nothing else. Even as a child, despite his privileged and sheltered upbringing, Jumin still felt the temptation to explore the world of the common folk. And who better to experience the unknown than with his best friend? The two would often find themselves lost in their own world. A world without responsibility. A world without heirs, businessmen or conglomerates. A world where two boys could be just that; boys. 

But, life is not so simple. Summers and winters pass. With time came more responsibilities and adulthood pressures. Long felt the days of childhood; that which there was not much to begin with. Despite the challenges and tribulations life threw at the pair, one tradition remains unshaken by time. Birthdays.

Slender fingers wrap impatiently around his Rolex as Jumin checks the clock. He sighs in annoyance, noticing how quickly the day flew by. On most work days, the director can barely wait to get out the door. While he certainly didn’t dislike his office, he much preferred most anywhere else once the clock ticked past 6 pm. But today was different. Today was October 5th. 

The dark haired man pinches the skin between his eyes and only looks up from his desk upon hearing the familiar clicking of heels up his office hallway. Jaehee knocks gently at the door and peers in from around the corner. The woman has a concerned look in her warm eyes, but Jumin can’t begin to worry about what was the matter. 

“Yes, Assistant Kang. Have you come to bother me more about Saeyoung’s complaints over my lack of celebrations this evening?” Jumin speaks to his assistant, his voice icey cold.

“I understand, Mr. Han. I… did come in here to talk about that, but not because of Saeyoung. It’s just… it’s 7 pm and you’re still here. It’s your birthday, and you say you have plans. I was wondering w-”

“I’m well aware of what today is.” The director hisses as his hands clench together on the wood desk. He sucks in a quick breath and immediately backpedals, offering Jaehee an apologetic look. “Forgive me. I’ve been getting bothered about this day for… weeks now.”

The director sighs and stands from the desk, making no move to hurry himself on gathering his things. 

“No need for apologies, sir. I completely understand. I’m sure you’ve heard enough pushing from the others.” Jaehee dismisses his coldness and grabs his jacket from the stand near the door. She meets him halfway across the room and gives his arm a comforting squeeze as she hands him the coat. 

“I think everyone just wants to share today with you since we truly care. So, if you change your mind, do let us know, please?” The brunette woman smiles sadly at her boss, earning her a weak smile from him in return. His heart warms a bit at her genuine words and he almost wishes to take her up on her offer. But, he made a promise to a friend for this evening. As always, Jumin Han is a man of his word. 

“I will. Thank you, Assistant Kang.”

The ride to the venue is quiet, and most of the time Jumin prefers it this way. His days are loud and chaotic, full of phone calls and stuffy conversations. His backseat oasis behind his trusty Driver Kim is normally a breath of fresh air. But, tonight, it feels suffocating. Both hands rake through his thick hair and he quietly wades in the painful silence. As if on cue, a voice perks up from the driver’s seat.

“Mr. Han. I’ve prepared the supplies for your evening. I assume it will be to your liking?” Driver Kim meets Jumin’s unusually scrambled gaze, and the tightness in the director’s chest loosens just enough to allow him another deep breath. 

“I appreciate you, Driver Kim. I’m sure it looks beautiful.” Jumin nods gratefully to the older man. “Did you happen to retrieve the bottle I’d set aside for this evening?” 

“Of course. It’s wrapped in the basket along with some other things I thought would pair well with the wine. You have exquisite taste as always, Mr. Han.” The man’s eyes crinkle behind his glasses as he clicks his turn signal to pull to a stop. 

“Thank you again… Ah. We’re here already?” Jumin looks out the window, admiring the landscape lit beautifully by the setting sun.

“Right on schedule. The sun will set the mood for a lovely birthday evening.” Driver Kim hums as he fishes something from his coat pocket. He turns in his chair and reaches to the backseat, holding a small box with a ribbon atop of it. “This one isn’t for you, young director. So, don’t go peeking until he gets to see it first.”

Jumin chuckles and nods, gently taking the small box from the other man. The driver moves to let out his employer, but Jumin waves him dismissively.

“We will not be too long. I’m not one to fuss over birthday celebrations.” The director smooths out his suit jacket and pant legs before opening up the car door.

“I know, Mr. Han. Take all the time you need. Tell him I say hello, and happy belated birthday.” Driver Kim keeps his gaze on the horizon ahead of him, wetness stinging the old man’s eyes. Jumin actively ignores the sudden show of emotion and uses his free hand to shut the door. 

Tiny lights sparkle along the trail up through the finely landscaped hill, leading Jumin directly to his destination. Clammy hands hold onto the tiny gift tightly as he continues along the rocky trail. Once he reaches the top, he strays from the path to greet his friend. His chest storms with emotion and dark eyes widen as he counts each step.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

His breath sounds too loud in his ears, and he’s sure his heart is beating much too fast. Suddenly, he wishes to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but anywhere. But, Jumin Han is a man of his word.

Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.

Oxfords continue to pad across the grass and eventually come to a slow stop.

“Ten.” Jumin breathes aloud. “Hello, old friend.”

Jumin’s mouth remains open as he goes to continue greeting the other before he takes a moment to take in his surroundings. A checkered blanket, red and white, is delicately laid out in the plush, green grass. A picnic basket brimming with all sorts of delicacies is centered on the blanket, along with another smaller basket, cushioning two crystal glasses. Candles flicker over petals of flowers, casting a glow to compete with the setting sun.

“It’s like something from a film. This is…” Jumin lets out a breathless laugh as he eases himself onto the blanket. “This is beautiful.”

Jumin wastes no time in exploring the basket prepared for the two. The smile never leaves his lips as he pushes past fine cheeses, chocolates and a beautifully decorated cake. He lets out a little “ah-ha” upon finding the thing both men would enjoy more than anything.

“Now, this is more like it, hm?” Jumin wriggles out the vintage bottle, holding it up for the both of them to admire. “Henschke, Hill of Grace, Shiraz. 1994, if I recall correctly? Australians know their reds.”

With a skillful hand, Jumin uncorks the bottle and pours the red liquid into the fine crystal glasses. The aroma of the wine fills the evening air between them, and for a moment, Jumin feels lighter. The weight of the day melts away in the twilight’s embrace. Perhaps birthdays can just be birthdays. Jumin muses to himself as he wraps his fingers around the stem of the glass. He scoots slowly across the blanket to hand the drink to the other man. Perhaps it is alright for him to enjoy himself this way.

The crystal is set down with great care onto the stone and Jumin uses the wrist of his jacket to smudge away any thumb prints he may have left. His vision blurs as he clinks the glasses together. The sound is familiar, but in a very different way now. Lonely.

The other glass is still. No hand reaches to join him in the toast. No voice returns his greeting. No smile returns his grin. Jumin’s black eyes blink and he swallows back the pain that threatens to lurch from his stomach. He raises his drink between himself and the headstone and tosses back the entire glassful. The wine burns his throat and he is grateful for the pain. 

“Happy belated birthday, V. And, as you would surely remind me. ‘Oh, it’s your birthday. Quit pretending it’s not, Jumin.’” The man’s voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. Please, keep it together. He wills himself to hold on as he continues. “I don’t care much for my birthday. But, I promised you I would make time for my birthday if it meant I could celebrate yours.” 

For the next few minutes, Jumin forces small talk with the stone. He talks of work. He talks of Elizabeth. He reaches desperately into the backs of his mind to talk about every nonsensical thing he could imagine, avoiding the things he wishes to scream out. 

“Ah. I should update you on how the RFA is doing.” Jumin leans back on his elbows, horizontal with his friend’s grave. He looks up at the stars, allowing himself to instead imagine V there next to him; laying on his side as he listens to Jumin in attentive silence. The thought warms his cheeks and his heart.

“Assistant Kang has been especially… gentle since the incident. Even Zen has begun showing me a side to him I never expected. He’s… kind. Yoosung, on the other hand… He has matured in a way I was not expecting. He misses you…” Jumin clears his throat once more before he continues. “Saeyoung and Saeran are doing very well. Both of them speak of you often. The twins and MC live together, all under one roof, as you always wished for. You’d be so proud, V.”

Jumin shakily inhales as his lips tremble around his fourth glass. The tears that well in his eyes finally spill over onto his pale cheeks as he finishes off another drink.

So many things are left unsaid. So many angry, sad and desperate questions of why and how. Jumin sets the glass down and sits up, pushing his hand against his mouth to muffle the sob that escapes him. He should be here, pulling the glass from me, telling me I’ve had enough. He should be here to slug my arm around his shoulder. He should be here. No one but him should be here. Why, V? Why did you leave?

The silence is louder than ever as Jumin attempts to calm himself down with a deep breath, using the back of his sleeve to wipe his cheeks. While the pain still clings to every inch of the man’s body like a bed of nails, Jumin swallows it back to properly finish his evening.

“I almost forgot. Driver Kim wishes for me to give you this belated birthday gift. On my birthday, of all days.” Jumin sniffles with a smile as he fishes out the small box to set down on the memorial stone. He carefully unwraps the brightly colored ribbon and wriggles open the box. “Here, I will open it for you. Driver Kim has excellent taste in gifts. Perhaps it is a matching cufflink to my own. They’re designer, you know. And-” Jumin’s voice catches in his throat as the top of the box pops open. Cushioned inside a bed of white tissue paper is a small photo frame; no bigger than the palm of his hand. In the frame stares back two boys wearing birthday hats in front of a cake. Happy birthday, J & J is written across the cake in cursive writing.

Jumin bites the inside of his cheek as a final tear escapes from him. The boys look like complete strangers. Both so innocent; so unaware of what the future will hold for them. Young Jihyun’s eyes are crinkled in a smile and his toothy grin takes up nearly half his face. Young Jumin smiles just as wide, but his eyes are wide open and looking directly at his friend. Cheeks flushed red, black and teal hair a complete tangled mess. They were happy.

“We’ve changed, but not much. I loved you then, and I love you now.” Jumin whispers to V as he carefully sets down the frame along with all the other flowers and trinkets left scattered around the grave. His hand traces across the name etched into the stone slab and he uses the other hand to finish the wine directly from the bottle.

“‘Happy birthday, Jumin.’” The director whispers into the lips of the bottle as he drains the last drops. 

The car ride home is quiet. Driver Kim helps a drunken Jumin into the car, taking no time at all to clean up the picnic and wine glasses. The shared silence between the two men is comfortable and calm. No words are shared with the driver and the director. Driver Kim simply hands the man a handkerchief and drives him back to his penthouse. 

Jumin’s eyes sting from the tears and his legs stumble as he steps from the car. He quietly thanks his driver who helps him up to the penthouse and fumbles with the keypad to unlock the door. Jumin exhales into the quiet room, letting the darkness consume him. His hand comes to rest on the center of his chest, and he takes a moment to appreciate the lighter feeling in his torso. The pain is less like broken glass now, more like the remnants of a broken mirror. The sharp and painful pieces have been removed, leaving the frame of what once was. It’s obvious something shattered the mirror, and a few bits of glass are left behind. But, the danger of the pain has been cleared away. 

“Shhh. Don’t yell, you’ll scare him. He looks sleepy.” A voice whispers from the kitchen.

“How about you shut up and say surprise like we practiced? We’ve been here for an hour now, my legs hurt from squatting.” Another deeper voice grumbles in reply. 

“Hm?” Jumin drunkenly stumbles further into his seemingly empty penthouse as his tired eyes scan the dark room. 

“Can everyone at least attempt to remain quiet?” Another softer voice sighs.

“Saeyoung, this was a stupid idea. Put his cat down.” A voice exclaims, accompanied by a smack and a familiar yelp. 

“Hey! That’s my job!” A woman giggles and another smack echoes through the penthouse.

“Well, now I feel left out.” A man’s voice speaks, adding on another, more intense smacksound.

“GAH! Okay, okay. Princess, we’ll catch up later. Go see your daddy. He needs a birthday hug.” This voice, he recognizes immediately, and his eyes fly wide open as he reaches for the light switch.

“Saeyoung?! What?!” Jumin shouts as he squints into the bright light. 

“Wah! SURPRISE!” “Hehe! Surprise, Jumin!” Saeyoung and MC screech, dressed to impress, both sporting white cat ears and paws.

“Surprise, Jumin!!  Woo-hoo!” Yoosung pops up from behind the counter, tossing an armful of balloons into the air. 

“Jesus. Well, surprise, trust-fund-kid.” Zen leans from around the sofa, smiling sheepishly at the other man. “Sorry about all this.” The albino laughs and rubs the back of his neck. 

“I was dragged here without my consent. Do not blame me for the home invasion.” Vanderwood growls from next to MC, winning another giggle from the girl and her fiancé.

“Surprise, Jumin Han. I apologize for my brother breaking into your home.” Saeran smiles, shoving his twin away from the white cat as she scuttles to her owner’s side. “Though, I may have helped a little.”

Jumin leans down to wrap Elizabeth in his arms as his mouth hangs open in shock. Each face looks back, expectantly and worried. 

“Is he okay?” Yoosung whines, slowly inching closer to Jumin as his eyes dart from person to person. “Is he having a heart attack?!”

“Yes.” Saeyoung says confidently, his cat paws resting on his hips. MC nods with him, looking to Yoosung with mock concern. 

“No.” Saeran, Vanderwood and Jaehee reply in a harmony, sharing looks of annoyance.

“I know you wanted to be alone after your evening with him but…” Jaehee stood from behind a chair, offering an apologetic smile.

“No.” Jumin interrupts her, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Each member of the RFA continues to stare at the man as he wobbles and before anyone can say a word, the director sets his princess down and lurches forward.

With arms wide open, he embraces his friends. With no reservations, no walls of emotions, no tightly wound strings. He holds his friends and finally inhales a full breath of air as each friend wraps their arms back around him. 

Sure, he’s drunk. Very drunk. Sure, he will regret and deny everything tomorrow morning. But tonight, Jumin will laugh with his friends. He will laugh till he cries, indulge in birthday cake, glare as the redheaded twins crown him with matching cat ears. He will open silly and thoughtful gifts and read cheesy and stupid birthday cards. He will refuse to sing karaoke, but instead watch and clap along as Zen and Saeran have a battle of the bands moment.

Jumin smiles and laughs to himself, feeling an unseen hand wrap around his shoulders. He closes his eyes and pictures V there, smiling along with him. “Thank you for allowing yourself to enjoy today,” he would probably whisper to his friend. “You deserve this.” Jumin allows himself to believe his friend’s memory. This is what he would have wanted.

“Happy birthday, Jumin!!” The RFA cheers together as the song comes to an end, the room lit by smiles and camera flashes. 

And a happy birthday it was, indeed.