thanks so much omg!! im glad there are still people enjoying my work :') i might publish something soon because im on my break and feeling inspired hehe

thank you so much dear!! it was always a joy writing for them, got7 are really wonderful guys haha :’) im glad you enjoyed my writing i really appreciate your kind words

thanks for the rec, anon!! im checking them out right now~

o1. a promise

“Hey.”A gentle murmur over the phone.

“Hithere,” you smile somberly. Mark can’t see you but he can hear the quiet whisperof your voice, hear the part of you that misses him over the thousands ofmiles. Long distance relationships aren’t easy. But Mark’s decided they’reworth it. 

Heshuffles in his bed, arm behind his head as he hears the quiet snoozing of hisroommate. “How are you?” he asks. You sigh and he’s there to remindyou: “Hey, it won’t be that long. We always have the summer.” He bites hislips nervously, a habit you’ve tried to help him curb but it’s bornagain. 

He hears your chuckling and the soft clamor nearyou. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I just miss you. I feel like we didn’tget to spend a lot of time together this winter break. It’s hard having to see you go off to the States again. Didn’t want to let you go.”

Mark chuckles lowly, pausing as he hears his roommate turn in bed. “Yeah, I know. I have the marks to prove it.”

“Oh shut it. You’re just being cheeky right now.” But you laugh despite the words. There’s a comfortable silence after he cracks a smile and he hears the familiar sounds of your rushed scribbling. You’re studying right now and Mark feels bad distracting you.

“What are you doing?” he asks but he knows the answer.

“I’m just finishing a report and don’t even think about ending the call because you think you’re distracting me. You’re not. I’ve proven to be great at multitasking,” he hears your smile and your steady pace of writing. You’re amazing, he decides even though he’s always known. 

Mark scoots in his bed so he’s lying more comfortably on his back. “I love you,” he says.

“I love you too,” you reply. It’s natural between you two. He hears more shuffling and you’re talking to someone else, almost in worry and annoyance. “Oh crap. I’m sorry, Mark, but I got a class starting in a few minutes. It slipped my mind. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, out of habit and almost rolls his eyes at himself for doing so. He misses being face to face. “No, don’t worry about it, okay? We said we would make this work and that’s what we’re doing. We’re making it work.”

“I love you so much,” you say and he smiles. “Promise me you won’t forget about me when you wake up?” It’s a joke and he almost chuckles. 

“Promise. I love you.” And the call ends.

That night, he dreams of you. 

hi sweetiee :’) please tell me which member(s) you’d like me to write for!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH DARLING IM HAVING SO MANY FEELS READING THIS MESSAGE!!! :’)

o1. destiny

Fate, you decide, is a funny word. 

Your mother begins telling you stories of finding your father - her soulmate - as bedtime stories when you turn eight. She tells you vividly the meeting of eyes, the imaginary click in her mind, the rushed beating of her heart: all indicators that your mother was one of the lucky ones to find her soulmate. Her tales of grandeur create the foundation that is your overtly romantic ideals but the stories stop at age eleven, when her soulmate, your father, is ripped away from her hands by such a thing she spoke so fondly of - fate.

From there on, you’ve trapped your heart and the outside world with steel walls, obstacle courses, rings of fire. Your heart breaks when your mother cries more than the skies during his funeral and you’ve sworn to yourself that whatever good that comes in your life, is only meant to be stolen away. 

This is the cruel powers of destiny. 

It’s the reason why you’ve ended relationships with people who’ve sworn you were theirs. The reason why after a five year relationship and engagement, you flee, when suppressed memories of fear, anxiety, robbery, haunt you. 

When you’re twenty-four, and the twinkle of your eyes starts seeping with tiredness, you tell your mother: “I don’t think I’m cut out for this soulmate business.”

Your mother smiles sympathetically. “You just haven’t found the right one yet, dear.” She knows. Because she’s found the right one but was denied keeping him. 

“Maybe,” you sigh. “Or maybe I’ll just become the rest of the 99% that hasn’t found the one and I’ll marry some guy who makes me content but not happy.” You massage your forehead with your hand.

Your mother shuffles for her purse and you look up when she places a train ticket in your face. “Why don’t you go to the mountains? Clear your head and pay a visit to your auntie for me? I was going to go but my back’s been…well, you know.”

You’re denying. “Mom, I can’t. I–”

She pushes towards you with a smile. “Go. You’ve always said you wanted to go again. So why not?”

You succumb to the persuasion of your mother, head home to pack your bags, and in two days, you’re on the train with earphones in and the scenery passing you by. The train makes a stop to pick more passengers up for the journey but you’re too mesmerized by the composition of your music until:

“Excuse me, is someone sitting here?” 

You rip out your earphones and start to say, “No, no one is–” when you stop. Your breath is gone. The stories your mother told you as a child resurface - the meeting of eyes, the click in your head like a gear in place, the palpitations - it’s all there. You can’t breathe, you’re choking on words because this is it. This is what your mother told you and why she did.

The man standing above you is just as surprised. Mouth open, eyes widened. You’re staring at each other like time is slow and the world revolves around just you two.

“Park Jinyoung,” he breathes out. You can only stare. 

“You…” you swallow, your throat is dry. “You’re my soulmate.”