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missaudreystiara · 2 years

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Prompt Bess × Audrey 10!

Anon I’m sorry it’s taken so long to reply! This prompt for my faves seemed to sad too write (screw you anon - jk) and I had no idea where to start with it, but then I remembered something Bess says in S2 episode 10 just after they’ve decided to use Audrey as a hostage and sort of ran with it! I don’t usually write angsty fics and I’m not sure it’s where my skills lie (I generally only write fluffy feel good mush) but I actually like where this idea went and I’m thinking about using it as a starting point for a series exploring the gap between S2 and S3 and attempting to delve a bit more into Audrey’s motivations/thoughts at this time. Anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts 🖤❄️

10 - Things you said that made me feel like shit

How long are they going to leave me in here? Audrey wondered, sitting on the floor of a cupboard, still bound in handcuffs, still covered in her own blood - still alone. Was this what rock bottom felt like?

It seemed like hours had passed since she’d been locked back away in there after Layton and his merry band of pirates had stolen Snowpiercer from Joseph, and her along with it (not that he’d seemed as concerned about losing her as he had been about losing his precious engine). Losing the engine meant he was losing power, control, but losing her? That was a mere inconvenience by comparison. Audrey knew better by now than to be surprised, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt or that she hadn’t wished that this might have finally been the time he did surprise her. She hated herself for that.

To say that the pair had a complicated history would be… an understatement. They’d spent almost two decades together before the freeze, but they weren’t filled with the romance and laughter that Joseph liked to pretend they had been. For Audrey, it had been years of knowing that she was only safe for as long as she was willing to be what Joseph needed her to be, for as long as he felt like he was in control of her, body and soul. That was what the deal had been all those years ago when he’d spotted her working as an escort at a party on one of his trains. He had offered her a way out - to show her the world… to help her to record her music and share her talent… a life with him. A handsome stranger offering her everything she’d ever wanted, and all he’d asked for in return was loyalty. At 18 years old it had sounded so easy. She shuddered; the scar on her forearm was all the reminder she needed of what could happen if that loyalty was called in to question.

What would happen to her now? If Joseph had even the slightest reason to doubt whether her loyalty had remained strong while she was trapped here, what fate would await her when the two trains eventually reconnected? Christ! Just look at how he’d responded to Kevin after only a day aboard Snowpiercer. She’d alienated her friends and if she couldn’t rely on Joseph’s… affection… what was she going to do?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. A knock? She almost laughed Who on earth takes a hostage and locks them away, only to… knock before entering?

“It’s me, I’ve come to see if you’re okay” …Bess. She was the last person Audrey wanted to see. She remained silent.

After a pause, it must have dawned on the former brakemen that she wasn’t going to receive a reply. Audrey heard the key turn in the lock. She greeted the blonde with a raised eyebrow - as if she cared whether she was okay?

“I don’t know what to say okay, Audrey?” Bess shrugged and ran an anxious hand through her fringe. She took a hesitant step forward, “Are you okay?”

Audrey scoffed. “Like you care.”

Bess sighed “Please don’t make this harder, Audrey.”

“Seriously? You’re asking me not to make this harder?” She retorted.

“This wasn’t my idea Audrey” the former brakeman snapped “I didn’t choose to bring you with us.”

“Yes” Audrey agreed, “You’ve made that abundantly clear Bess. But whoever’s idea this was, you were the one who paraded me in front of Joseph like a puppet and then manhandled me in here - did this” she attempted to gesture to her nose, bloody and swollen, with her shoulder. It wasn’t easy in handcuffs.

At this, the blonde winced. “I am sorry about that. I hope it isn’t broken.”

“Fortunately for you, I don’t think it is” Audrey replied.

“Good” Bess nodded.

A beat passed. Bess took another few awkward steps forward into the cupboard, closing the gap between the two of them. “Look —” she began, her voice softer now “I’m supposed to be taking you straight to the library, but do you want me to take you somewhere to clean up first? Ben’s using the shower up in the engine, but I think there’s a bath tub in one of the first class cabins you could use?”

Audrey froze. “No” she said more firmly than she’d intended, “not a bath tub.”

Bess eyed her with confusion.

Still somewhat rattled, Audrey continued “Just — can you just take me to a sink somewhere or bring me a basin of water or something. Not a bath tub. Please.”

Bess continued to stare at her at her, mystified, but Audrey offered no explanation. “Why, does Wilford have a bath kink?” The blonde asked, seemingly in an attempt at a joke to diffuse the mounting tension in the room.

“Something like that” she replied, her expression full of disgust, “I — I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, okay — err — I’ll bring you some water, just — just bear with me a minute” Bess replied awkwardly, quickly ducking back out of the cupboard, leaving Audrey alone again.

She let out a sigh of relief when the door closed. Too many old memories were resurfacing - old wounds re-opening - today, and she wasn’t in the mood to share them. If truth be told, she hadn’t ever been in the mood to share them.

The former brakeman returned quickly, knocking on the door once more. “Come in” Audrey responded this time. Bess had brought an assortment of goods back with her - a shallow bowl of water, a wash cloth, soap, antiseptic cream, and aspirin. She set the items down and sat on the floor opposite Audrey, rolling her sleeves up to her elbows.

“May I?” Bess gestured to the wash cloth and basin. “Sorry, I’m not allowed to uncuff you” she grimaced apologetically.

Audrey nodded, indicating for Bess to continue. The blonde dipped the washcloth into the water and brought it gently up to Audrey’s face - the water was warm. She worked in silence for a minute or so before Audrey broke it to ask softly “Why are you doing this Bess?”

“Doing what?” Bess shrugged, continuing to cleanse the blood from Audrey’s face.

“Pretending to care about me” she couldn’t meet the blonde’s eyes.

Bess stopped what she was doing and sighed “I’m not pretending, I do care about you Audrey. I’m disappointed and I’m mad and I want to shake you until every last thought of Wilford falls out of your head, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about whether you’re hurt or not.”

“That’s funny, because it didn’t seem to matter to you earlier” Audrey responded, still refusing to meet Bess’s eyes.

Bess frowned.

“I heard what you said Bess, before you took me to the aquarium, ‘Oh great, Audrey’s the hostage. Are we bringing anyone we actually want?’” Audrey elaborated, her voice rich with sarcasm.

Blood rushed to the former brakeman’s cheeks “Audrey, I —”

“I’m no fool” she interrupted, finally looking the other women directly in the eye. “I saw the looks you all gave me at that disastrous dinner party, I’ve heard all the track talk…” she took a breath, to steady her voice “… but to hear you say that? Well, it made me feel like shit, Bess.” It really had. She valued her relationship with the other woman more than she’d realised.

Bess floundered “Audrey — you weren’t meant to … I didn’t realise you heard… that.” She grimaced.

“That doesn’t sound very much like an apology to me” Audrey countered, an eyebrow raised.

Bess sighed “I’m sorry you heard that, Audrey - I wish you hand’t. But —” she shrugged, throwing her hands up in exasperation, “ But I’m not sorry I said it. Christ what did you expect?” She continued, frustration growing in her voice “We all trusted you — I trusted you, but you went back to him. Actions have consequences Audrey. Surely you can’t expect to choose Wilford over us with no repercussions?”

Actions have consequences… if only Bess knew just how painfully aware she was of this.

“It’s not as simple as that, Bess” she replied, gazing intently into the former brakeman’s eyes, a sad smile forming at her lips.

Bess frowned, “What do you mean?”

“I —” Audrey began, but was interrupted when the door to the cupboard was thrown open. Bess scrambled to her feet quickly, dropping the wash cloth as she stood. Layton entered the room. He looked from Bess to Audrey (and the various sundries on the floor) to Bess again, raising an eyebrow. “Why is she not in the library yet?” He gestured at Audrey, his voice heavy with frustration. “We need you in the engine Till - we’ve got plans to make”

Bess’s cheeks coloured pink once more. “Sorry we were just — I was just”

Layton closed his eyes and let out a sigh “It doesn’t matter, just hurry it up - get her out of here and meet me in the engine as fast as you can”, leaving the room as suddenly as he’d arrived.

Bess looked at Audrey as though about to pick up their conversation once more, but before she could Audrey spoke up: “A story for another day then, darling”, she forced her mouth in to a confident smile - her usual mask now firmly back in place as she allowed the former brakeman to lead her away.

... to be continued(?)

#snowpiercer #snowpiercer tv #snowpiercer fanfiction #snowpiercer fic #brakenight #brakenight fanfiction #miss audrey #bess till #bess x audrey #Audrey x bess #mr wilford #andre layton

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cupofteaguk · 4 years

Text

i’ve seen the way you look at me when you think i don’t notice

FROM THE PETALS COLLECTION

[pairing] :: jungkook x fem!reader

[genre] :: percy jackson au + angst

[word count] :: 7.3k

[note] :: attempted a son of hades!jungkook storyline. vaguely inspired by nico di angelo’s character arc if you’ve read the books (because coughs well this use to be an unpublished nico di angelo fanfic don’t at me LMAO), but you don’t need to remember the character slash be an expert in the story to read this fic! Also this is a friends to lovers fic hidden behind my attempt to write a story of grief. pls enjoy!

When Jungkook is fifteen years old, he arrives at Camp Half Blood with pennies in his pockets, one Kim Taehyung on his back, and monsters on his tail. There are all kinds of creatures that have been following him for weeks—some with wings, some with clubs, but all with the intent of murder in their eyes as they chase Jungkook up the hill. Taehyung had warned him about this happening, that starting this journey would attract lots of unwanted attention from lots of dangerous half-breed monsters. Something to do with Jungkook’s scent, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.

In the beginning, Jungkook hadn’t known what to expect, hadn’t known what Taehyung meant by strange creatures and a camp just for him. Even right now, as he is running as quickly as his legs can take him with his lungs feeling like it’s about to burst—he doesn’t really understand.

What he does understand is that he has been alone his entire life. With a childhood filled with no father and a frightful mother, Jungkook has grown up spending time by himself in the company of his own thoughts and emotions. With such a strange (and lacking) family dynamic, it exposed him to lots of bullying and snide comments from peers, most commonly seen during school or walks home. The first half of Jungkook’s childhood is defined by this—by the teasing for being different, for failing classes, for being awkward and shy, for never knowing his place. The second half of Jungkook’s childhood is filled with sleeping on the streets, with stealing food at convenience stores, on how he’s been truly alone since he was thirteen.

That is, until Kim Taehyung corners him at the midnight strike of his fifteenth birthday—which leads the two of them to this current moment.

Jungkook doesn’t understand much right now. All he knows is that he needs to run.

As Jungkook approaches the top of the hill, he sees a group of people surrounding an archway. They’re all bundled up in gears of shields and swords, and each of them turn towards the boys as the monster thudding grows louder and Jungkook’s calls become more clear.

Half of the group near the archway break off, immediately making their way towards Jungkook and Taehyung. There are a few questions thrown here and there, before the main objective is just to make sure the boys get to safety. Taehyung’s weight gets distributed between Jungkook and another person, and together the bigger group makes their way across the hill. They cross a tall pine tree that Jungkook hardly notices, because he’s completely out of breath, wounded across his entire body, with legs that feel like jello.

Taehyung’s weight shifts entirely to the other person as Jungkook trips and falls to his knees. Quickly, Jungkook whirls around so his butt and his arms are on the ground. With his eyes directed towards the hill, his heart crawls up his throat as he sees the monsters making their way up towards him. His body moves before his mind does, his arms moving him closer towards the archway.

Someone settles themselves right behind him. “Woah, hey.” Your voice is soft, your hand between his shoulders is comforting. “You’re okay, you’re safe now.”

“B-But!” Jungkook stammers, pointing shakily towards the creatures now growing closer and closer to everyone. “Those monsters! They’re coming!”

As soon as he says that, the monsters stop in their path, right next to the pine tree from earlier. Their collection of beady eyes glare angrily down at Jungkook, their screams are hollow cries that press painfully against his ears. This conveyance of frustration continues on for a few seconds, before one by one the monsters turn around and make their way back down the mountain.

Jungkook’s breathing is frantic, along with his heart rate, as he watches the creatures disappear below the dip. “W-What the hell…?”

You angle your head toward in order for Jungkook to look at you—you wear an expression of softness, of understanding, and Jungkook momentarily sees stars.

That, however, could have also been from the excess oxygen in him, and the fact that one of those creatures had landed a swipe to his head.

You gesture to the pine tree. “You see that tree? That’s Thalia Grace’s tree—a long time ago, she and some of her friends were trying to get here, and Thalia sacrificed herself to ensure her friends could be safe. She was a daughter of Zeus, so he turned her into a tree that would protect the camp. Monsters just like those can’t get in anymore.”

Jungkook feels the adrenaline fading, along with his ability to follow conversations. Daughter of Zeus? Like, Zeus from those Greek mythologies? The camp? Had this been the place Taehyung told him about?

It’s all too much to keep up with. Jungkook faints before he can ask his question, in which the last thing he sees is your eyes, concerned and twinkling. He passes the thudding in his heart off as pure and utter exhaustion.

Jungkook wakes up on top of a white hospital bed a few hours later, head swimming and Taehyung situated at the foot. He offers a cup of something called ambrosia that immediately clears the headache. “Woah, what the fuck?” He asks, holding the cup away from him and staring at it with wide eyes. He looks over at Taehyung. “What is this? My headache went away as soon as I drank this. Also, it tastes like banana milk. Is this a dream?” Without waiting for an answer, Jungkook leans back and takes in his surroundings. He looks to be an infirmary, beds with white sheets along the walls and light shining in through the windows. There’s a few other people lingering about, hovering over occupied beds.

“Jungkook.” Taehyung’s soft voice pulls his attention back. “We’re in Camp Half Blood. You brought us here.” Taehyung’s smile is sad, but confident. “You brought me back, even though it was my mission to bring you here. Thanks.”

Jungkook stares. “So… you weren’t lying about the camp. T-This is all real?”

It is then that Taehyung explains everything to Jungkook. Explains that the Greek gods Jungkook learned about in class are real, and that sometimes they come down from Mount Olympus to mingle with mortals—which is where their demigod children come from. Demigods are part god, and therefore have enhanced physical ability as well as some level of control or skill over the realm of their godly parent. Taehyung goes over this information as slowly and as calmly as possible, but Jungkook still has trouble processing the information. In a way, it makes sense that Jungkook would be in this position. He’s always known he was different, always felt like he could never fully belong in the mortal world he spent so long occupying. He just could never label his feelings with a concrete answer.

Until now, that is.

Jungkook decides to ask Taehyung one more question. “Why couldn’t you explain any of this to me on the way over?”

Taehyung seems to be choosing his next words carefully. “As we kept going, you were attracting more monsters. That’s something that normally doesn’t happen, unless the demigod the creatures are tracking is one that’s insanely powerful. Like, a demigod that’s born from the Big Three—Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades. I read accounts of what happened to us happening to other kids that were born from any one of those three gods. I figured that the less you knew, the better. A demigod who doesn’t know they’re a demigod is a much less serious threat—your scent isn’t as strong as it could be if you know about who you are.”

Jungkook ponders this. “So my dad could be Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades?” He’s definitely heard of those gods. The ruler of all gods, and his two brothers.

Taehyung presses his lips together, leaning forward in his seat so his forearms rest on his knees. “Maybe,” He says. “It’s pretty rare, though, so I don’t want to give you an answer only for it to not be true. Only time will tell.” He must see the lost, the confused, the anxious look on Jungkook’s face, because Taehyung takes a seat on the edge of the hospital bed. “Hey, JK, cheer up.” The usage of his nickname makes the corner of Jungkook’s lips turn up. “While we wait for your dad to claim you, you can stay with me in my father’s cabin. My dad is Hermes. He’s a patron to travelers, so all campers who come here are welcomed until they’re claimed by their godly parents.”

Jungkook can only manage a nod at this. He still has many questions, still does not fully understand. With what Taehyung is telling him, Jungkook is not even sure he will belong here, or if he will be ostracized once again for being different amongst the different.

But he trusts Taehyung—so he’ll follow Taehyung.

Jungkook is at Camp Half Blood for a week before Taehyung is called for another assignment. It’s due to a prophecy given by the Oracle who lives on the campgrounds—the figure grants quests to campers to undergo a series of dangerous adventures in order to accomplish something for the long term benefit of demigods, the human race, the Greek gods themselves, anything of the sort.

In the case of Taehyung, he is chosen by fellow camper Kim Namjoon to join him in and travel west and retrieve stolen items from a museum collection. It seems like an easy quest. At least, that’s what Jungkook is told.

Kim Namjoon is a son of Athena, someone whom Jungkook met a day into his arrival at Camp Half Blood—friendly and smart and answers Jungkook’s questions about mythology with ease. It had been good when Jungkook first met the former, because he had many questions, some of which couldn’t be answered by Taehyung. Namjoon is someone that Jungkook immediately grows a fondness and admiration for—only leaving him that much more confident that the quest will go smoothly.

“You guys will be okay… right?” Jungkook asks Namjoon, as the latter is shouldering his backpack. He’s not the only person seeing Namjoon and Taehyung off on their quest, but Jungkook had been one of the first people to show up. After all, when your only friend is leaving on an adventure, it tends to bring in the worry and the anxiety. “And you’ll watch Taehyung, won’t you?”

“Of course I will,” Namjoon reassures, tight smile across his lips but he distracts Jungkook with a hand on his shoulder. “Taehyung and I have been doing quests together for a few years. We got each other’s back.”

Taehyung slides in next to Namjoon, glancing over at Jungkook with all the care in the world in his eyes. “Hey JK, just promise me you’ll do your best to be comfortable here, okay? Keep trying out those different skills we were working on, okay? Your dad will claim you, I’m sure of it.”

Jungkook looks down at his fingers, wringing the hands together. “I-I’ll try my best.”

Namjoon and Taehyung exchange glances, partaking in a silent language exchange, before Taehyung looks back at Jungkook. “I know someone who can help.”

Taehyung leaves Namjoon with his backpack before stepping away from the group, making his way down the hill back towards the camp grounds. Jungkook follows shortly behind. It’s still early in the morning, most campers are inside their cabins sleeping away the mist, but there’s a small group of campers near the archery grounds. There’s some laughter as a new person steps in to ready the bow and arrow. Jungkook watches as this new archer aims as the target, pulls back the bow, and—!

“Y/N!” Taehyung calls.

The person at the archery station flinches, sending the arrow a few centimeters away from the center of the target. You whirl around, and Jungkook’s stomach drops because it’s you—the person who helped him when he more or less crashed into Camp Half Blood.

You gape, still holding the bow in your arms as your eyes narrow into a glare as you continue to stare straight at Taehyung. “Kim Taehyung! Where are your manners!” You call out. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a quest now?”

Taehyung slings an arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “I need to borrow you for a second, it’s important.”

You seem to be saying something to one of your friends, because you hand the bow to a friend before walking over to the two boys.

As soon as you reach your destination, you look at Jungkook and give him a bright-eyed smile of recognition—one that brings him back to the first time he met you, when he saw stars. “Hey!” You exclaim. “I remember you, you came in with Taehyung last week. You looked like you had been through a lot—are you feeling better now?”

“I-uh…” Jungkook tries to form words.

“He had some ambrosia, he’s fine,” Taehyung cuts in kindly, sending Jungkook a look he can’t decipher. Taehyung goes on a momentarily rant, explaining that Jungkook would just need someone to help him further adjust to life at camp, as well as help him figure out who his godly parent was.

Taehyung says a lot of words, but Jungkook isn’t entirely paying attention. His gaze is fixed on you, taking in your easy smile and bright eyes. He can feel his eyes widen and the flush crawl up his cheeks the longer he lets himself look at you—yet, he doesn’t understand what it means. He’s never seen someone like you before, in his years of school and in his years living on the streets.

“So, I just need you to help him out. Hopefully his dad will claim him before we get back.”

“That’s something to look forward to,” You reply, sounding genuinely excited for that. You turn your full attention to Jungkook this time and smile. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Nice to finally meet you!”

He takes your hand. Fifteen-years-old, and he wears his emotions in his eyes. “I’m Jungkook.”

Jungkook is at Camp Half Blood for three weeks when he starts getting nightmares.

Not only that, but it’s the same kind of nightmare—something horribly realistic and chaotic and messy but so painful that Jungkook finds himself waking up with tears dusting itself in his eyes.

It always starts off the same: Namjoon and Taehyung on their quest. They appear to be in a room of antiques, each boy looking cautiously at the collection around them, with their backs pressed against each other. There is a low hum in his dream, where the voices emit a low frequency and sound like static—like he’s hearing the conversations underwater. Suddenly, a burst comes from above, a shatter of something in the room, a clatter of hollow bangs and clashes, and a yell. His dream always turns blurry after the fight starts, but it always ends the same—Namjoon pulling Taehyung away from a fight. And the latter is badly wounded.

And Jungkook always wakes up at the sight of Taehyung. And it’s the same question that swirls around in his mind, over and over again. Did Taehyung die on the quest?

At first, it’s easy for Jungkook to write off the dream as a dream—nothing more, nothing less. Perhaps his subconscious playing tricks on him, playing around with his fears and turning it into videos to play in his brain. But with each passing night, a voice starts to ring in his mind.

My dear boy. It’s a deep voice, husky and low and full of pitiful sadness, like it can sense the pain that Jungkook is trying to internalize. Don’t you understand? Kim Namjoon let your best friend die.

There’s something about the voice that is familiar, like he’s heard it before.

The voice plays in Jungkook’s mind over and over again, like a record, and it shakes him to the core. The potential of what the voice is and what the voice could mean frightens him, and it shows.

It shows in when Jungkook just outright misses the target with his bow and arrow in the present day. The pair of you are out on the field today, and you’re furrowing your eyebrows together.

“Are you alright?”

Jungkook stares at his arrow, somewhere flung off to the side, before his gaze shifts to you. You’re always so sturdy, so concerned, so worried for him. Besides Taehyung, who else cares so much for his safety and wellbeing—?

He stops, lowering the bow. He wears a serious expression. “Can I tell you a secret?” He whispers.

You furrow your eyebrows at his tone. “Of course. Is something bothering you? I know your father hasn’t claimed you yet, but the gods can be really busy around this time…”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Not that.” He steals himself for speaking the words into reality. “I had a dream that Taehyung died, even though Namjoon promised me nothing would happen to him.” He doesn’t miss the way you flinch at his accusation.

You don’t reply to him at first. You stare at him, eyes conflicted. Jungkook stares back, briefly wondering whether you’ve had the experience of knowing death. He doesn’t voice the question, choosing instead to maintain steady eye contact with your nervous expression.

“Perhaps it was just a dream, Jungkook,” You say carefully. “Namjoon always keeps his promises. He and Taehyung have been working together on quests for years. And Namjoon is the smartest person I’ve ever met. If they ran into a situation Namjoon thought they wouldn’t be able to handle, he wouldn’t even think to risk the lives of the people he’s with. He won’t let you down.” You’re smiling tightly, clearly trying to keep the tension light but Jungkook suddenly finds that his heart is not in the mood.

He wants to believe you. He wants to believe in Namjoon. But he knows what his dreams are. And that voice. These are things he cannot ignore no matter how hard he tries.

But the thing is, his dreams are real—Kim Namjoon does not keep his promise. Jungkook can see this across his face the moment Namjoon returns to camp, alone.

“Not only did they know we were coming,” Namjoon explains quietly to the camp counselors, late in the night, at a meeting spot reserved for higher ups. “They had taken over the museum a few weeks before we showed up. It was an ambush. I… I couldn’t save Taehyung.”

No.

“No!” Jungkook cries out, standing up and making his position known—loitering in the background of the meeting.

Namjoon meets his gaze from across the gap that separates them. “Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s head is spinning, his breath coming out in gasps, as he backs up slowly away from the growing crowd of camp counselors. “Y-You promised me!” He accuses loudly, pointing at Namjoon. “You promised nothing would happen to Taehyung! You lied to me!”

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.” Namjoon steps out from amongst the group of counselors, a hand out in front of him as if approaching a frightened animal. “We were overwhelmed. If I could take it back and save him, I would—!”

“Shut up!” Jungkook cries louder, running his hands through his hair. He should have known, should have known that weight in his gut was a warning and not a feeling. The tears in his eyes make it blurry to see anything to understand anything—because Taehyung is dead, along with his kindness and compassion and the safety he brought. “I hate you, I hate all of you!”

Suddenly, there’s a rumble in the ground, a shake in the Earth so intense that a hushed silence falls over the crowd. At once, the ground splits open and a roar of fire explodes up from the pit, threatening to drag in anyone who gets closer. There are screams from the campers, from the counselors, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He’s so angry, so hurt, so lost. He doesn’t hear any of it.

Until he hears your voice. “Jungkook!” You scream across the gap.

Jungkook stills upon hearing you, lowering his arms and opening his eyes. Blinking away tears, he feels his heart rate slow back down to a manageable pace. The split in the ground closes before he looks up. He sees the camp counselors up ahead, equal looks of fear and horror across their eyes.

He turns just enough to see you. You, with your wide eyes, looking confused and upset by what he has just done. And Jungkook feels nothing but disappointment. He has never done anything like this before, and he doesn’t know what it means.

So he runs away. He runs away from Namjoon and this god forsaken camp that he knows will remind him of Taehyung.

He runs away from the whispers from campers, a representation to serve that Jungkook will never truly belong here.

He runs away from you, the only other person he would think to trust from now on. He can’t handle any of this anymore.

Two weeks after Jungkook runs away from Camp Half Blood, and a shadow of a figure appears to him in the midst of the evening air. It’s a ghost with a dark twisted smile, who calls himself Min Yoongi—a king in a past life, who now resides in the Underworld as a judge for all souls.

He tells Jungkook that Jungkook is a son of Hades—which explains why he knew about Taehyung’s death, why he split the ground open all those weeks ago. There’s something borderline dangerous about Yoongi’s smile.

Every fiber and nerve in Jungkook’s body is begging him not to trust this ghost. But, of course, Jungkook doesn’t listen. He stopped listening to things a long time ago.

Besides, Yoongi soon makes offers that Jungkook cannot escape from. A way to bring Taehyung back, a way to strike revenge upon Kim Namjoon, a way—!

Jungkook blinks the thoughts away. He had dozed off again, something he’s been doing a lot lately.

“You should sleep,” Yoongi advises, his voice more of a whisper than anything else. There’s a touch of eerie to him, in his paper white skin and gray eyes.

Even though Jungkook doesn’t desire sleep, far from it, he settles with listening to the ghost anyways. So he curls up on a makeshift pillow crafted from his beaten down (stolen) leather jacket, and closes his eyes.

But instead of the previous nights, where he dreams about death and destruction, dreams up different ways Taehyung could have survived, dreams up Namjoon not caring about Taehyung’s death—he dreams of you.

Dreams about you are such a rarity now, but they always make him feel warm. Content. Almost satisfied.

In the dream, the pair of you are situated underneath a big tree at the edge of the forest. You’re in the middle of teaching him about Mythomagic—a card game he had immediately developed an interest for—and he realizes he’s dreaming about a memory this time. When he steals a look at you, he sees sunlight curling around your form, lighting up your hair and your eyes. He hears your laughter and sees the crinkle in your eyes. He can feel your happiness and the innocence in the air around you. He remembers the peacefulness, the calming nature of you.

He misses it—he misses you.

A cold chill running down his spine startles Jungkook awake as he springs into a sitting position. The fire before him has long since been put out, and Min Yoongi is floating in front of him. The latter wears a sharp look. “You’re dreaming about her again, aren’t you?”

Jungkook sighs. Good things in his life could only last for so long. He runs a hand through his hair and turns to gather his jacket into his arms. “I thought I asked you to stop peeking into my mind.”

“You were smiling,” Yoongi observes quietly.

“That’s none of your business,” Jungkook snaps.

“It must have been a good dream. I couldn’t see the contents of the dream, just the subject.”

“Stay out of my head!” Jungkook hisses, standing up and sliding his arms into the jacket.

“You care deeply about her.”

“What do I have to say to get you to stop talking about her?” Jungkook retorts hotly, feeling his temper rise. It had been a good dream. The best one he’s had all week.

Yoongi looks at him passively. “Just answer one of my questions,” He settles calmly.

Jungkook grunts. “Fine. What is it?”

“Why exactly do you care so much about her? You hardly know her.”

Jungkook slides his backpack over his shoulder. He ignores the touch of passive aggressiveness in Yoongi’s tone. “She was the only one at camp who went out of their way to make me feel like they actually gave a shit.”

“She cares more about Namjoon than you,” Yoongi interjects bluntly. “She and Namjoon have been friends for longer. She only talked to you because of Namjoon, after all. And don’t you hate him?”

“Shut up.”

“You worry she doesn’t care for you the way you do. Haven’t you wondered why she hasn’t tried looking for you?”

“Shut up.”

“She was only nice to you because Namjoon asked her to be nice to you.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jungkook explodes, turning towards Yoongi with his arm out in a striking motion. His arm cuts clean through the ghost, and he watches as the pieces wisp away into the air. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Yoongi will be back soon, probably to reprimand him, but mostly to carry on as if this hadn’t happened—to continue asking questions and continue trying to piss Jungkook off. It doesn’t matter. Jungkook could never bring Yoongi any harm. The latter is a ghost, after all.

There’s still a lot he doesn’t understand.

Jungkook calls off his deal with Yoongi shortly after the You Incident—in which a series of dreams about you sent Yoongi on an accusatory streak that sent him back to the Underworld where he rightfully belongs. It’s good because he doesn’t want a ghost meddling in his personal business, and his personal feelings.

It’s bad, however, because Jungkook no longer has an evil ghost by his side that offers up revenge.

This leaves him to do the next best thing—try and summon Taehyung.

As a son of Hades, his powers do include communicating with ghosts like Yoongi and cracking holes into the ground, but it also involves the ability to summon deceased souls. All that is required is a pit, some food, and a cantation in Ancient Greek. It’s supposed to be simple, and in a way it is.

Except when the soul he’s trying to summon doesn’t want to be found, which is exactly how it has gone with Taehyung. He’s tried to get Taehyung’s attention for weeks now, to no luck. And he’s tried everything.

Jungkook scowls to himself as he takes in the local convenience store to buy the various items he’ll need to attempt another summoning. Animal blood is one of the best tools for this type of power, but animal blood doesn’t exactly like up on shelves in aisles of grocery stores—so Jungkook has settled with fast food meals, chips, or anything cheap he can get his hands on.

He glares at the lineup of sodas in front of his gaze, trying to focus but he finds his mind wandering against through his memories, picking the ones that are most guaranteed to make him feel like shit.

His mind settles on a line Yoongi said to him countless times regarding you: She was only nice to you because Namjoon asked her to be nice to you.

His hands shake in his pockets, determined not to believe it, but finding himself pool with doubt nonetheless.

“Jungkook.”

He jumps out of his skin at the familiar voice he’s spent the past many months thinking about, as the sensation rings through his body. He experiences brief flashes of emotions he hasn’t undergone in awhile: peace, warmth, hope. He turns on his heel and can’t help the way his eyes widen at the sight of you.

The months that have passed since his disappearance really does wonders to your face. You look older. You look wary, but well prepared. Most of all, your eyes are still that bright light he remembers more often than he cares to admit. But you also look sad, like the sight of Jungkook is worse than you expected.

“Jungkook…” You say again, quieter this time.

You saying his name again brings him back to reality, brings him back to where he is and why he’s here. He doesn’t need you. Like Yoongi said, you’re friends with Namjoon—and Namjoon is the reason why Taehyung is dead. His voice sounds hollow. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same question.”

His scowl deepens as he settles for a Mountain Dew on the rack. “That’s none of your business.” He catches the hurt that flickers in your eyes, but he turns towards the cashier before he can feel sorry for you.

You trail after him. “Please don’t shut me out,” You plead gently. You stay behind Jungkook as he pays for his food. “I came here looking for you.”

“Awfully convenient—but I don’t think you should be wasting your time,” Jungkook grumbles, bounding out of the shop and stopping along the sidewalk. “Why don’t you go back to Namjoon and keep being his best friend and just leave me alone?”

A sort of realization seems to settle in your eyes, as if you’ve just confirmed something. “I’m not leaving,” You say firmly after a moment. “I’m here by myself, Jungkook. No campers, no Namjoon, it’s just me. I know you’re mad at Namjoon, and you have every right to be upset. I know why you cracked a hole in the ground. I understand all that now. But I really think you should stop blaming Namjoon and hurting yourself. Namjoon didn’t mean to let Taehyung die—!”

Jungkook whirls around, his eyes a twin set of fire. “Don’t say his name,” He snaps roughly, but falls silent when you don’t even flinch.

How could he raise his voice at the only person who has gone out of their way to ensure his safety?

He turns away. He doesn’t apologize, and you don’t ask him to.

The pair of you don’t say anything for a long moment—Jungkook just makes his way down the sidewalk and you follow along.

He stops after a moment. He turns himself just enough so you can see his profile. “Fine,” He says, trying to ignore the flutter in his chest when you flash him an appreciative smile. “I’ll let you tag along. But only because I feel bad for snapping at you. I’ve just…” He sighs. “Been going through a lot.”

You step forward to stand by his side. “We can talk about anything you want to, Jungkook. I’m still your friend.”

He swallows thickly at your offer, hoping that you don’t notice. If you do, you remain silent. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to.”

Two days after you join Jungkook’s travels, you seem to decide he is calm enough for a sensitive question. But you’re sneaky about it. You wait until the night, when both of you are curling around a fire—you in your sleeping bag, and Jungkook with his signature leather jacket makeshift pillow underneath his head. “Why are you so afraid to talk about Taehyung’s death?”

He flinches at the mention of Taehyung’s name, knowing that snapping and causing a scene would do nothing to stop you from asking the question over and over again. You had given him a few days, but something about your tone tonight tells him that you won’t take no for an answer.

Jungkook turns his head to look at you. Your eyes are flickering against the fire. “I’ll answer your question if you answer one of mine.”

You shrug a shoulder. “Sure.”

He sighs, momentarily stumped. “I’m afraid that if I admit it, or let other people admit it in front of me, it’s true and there’s nothing I can do to bring him back.”

“I don’t think Taehyung would want you to bring him back, Jungkook. He saved Namjoon that day; he sacrificed himself for a reason—!”

“Okay, my turn,” Jungkook interrupts, refusing to hear any of it. “Why are you here? Really?”

You are quiet for a second. “I was sent on a quest to come find you,” You reply after a moment. “The oracle told me about a prophecy where you were in danger. It said you had made a deal with Min Yoongi, said you were considering a soul for a soul trade to get Taehyung back. I was scared for you, Jungkook.” You sit up in your sleeping bag, leaning across the space between the two of you. “My turn. Why don’t you want to believe that Taehyung sacrificed himself to save Namjoon?”

“Because why would he do that?” Jungkook retorts back. “Why would he leave behind everything he cared about? Why would he leave me—?” The words choke in the back of his throat as his heart rams painfully against his chest, the underlying reason for his bitterness surfacing up again. He thought he had smashed his grief down far enough where it would never have to see sunlight again. “It’s nothing. I’m not playing this game anymore.”

You are quiet, watching as Jungkook curls into himself and turns his back to you. “When are you going to start letting me in?” You whisper. “I didn’t accept that quest for no reason, Jungkook, I came because I care about you. I want to help you.”

I’ve already let you in, far more than I wanted to, Jungkook thinks to himself instead, wrapping his arms tighter around himself.

“I know that Taehyung would have never wanted to leave you. He cared about you a lot, and saw you as the little brother he never had. You guys deserved more time. You deserved more time to have the family you never got to have. You wanna know the last thing Taehyung said to me, after introducing us to each other all that time ago? He said that you guys only knew each other for a short time, but you were the strongest person Taehyung had known. I know how much Taehyung wanted to be there for you. But he also had other responsibilities.” Your fingers twitch as if you want to reach over and grab onto Jungkook. “Namjoon had been the leader of the quest, he was the main priority. Taehyung had to make the call. He would never have wanted you to take the guilt for a decision he made on his own.”

Jungkook hesitates, before rolling onto his back. “Why does Namjoon deserve my forgiveness?”

Finally, he spares a glance at you. You’re still looking at him, gaze sharp over the fire. It distracts Jungkook momentarily, as his mind thinks about how different you are from fire. Fire can be harsh, blunt, unforgiving, and relentless. Like him.

But you are like the sun—bright, warm, longing. You refuse to give up on him.

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” You whisper. “Because everyone deserves a second chance.”

He stares at you. He doesn’t know what longing dances behind his eyes, but you seem to know, because you avert your gaze and grumble something about going to sleep.

He watches you turn to your side, and he wonders.

Jungkook has tried to summon Taehyung a grand total of ten times in the weeks prior to his run in with you. Each time is met with failure, because it seems like Taehyung does not want to be summoned which is disappointing and disheartening. To be honest, it makes Jungkook less and less enthusiastic to keep attempting something he cannot guarantee.

But as you stand next to him over an empty pit the pair of you have spent the last thirty minutes digging up, you take your hand in his. You smile at him, nodding. “It’ll work this time.”

So Jungkook pours in the Mountain Dew and dumps out the bag of chips he’s acquired into the hole. As he repeats the same cantation he’s said for the past ten times, the food starts bubbling as spirits from the Underworld fight to get a taste of the offering.

“Show me Taehyung!” Jungkook calls out, although he sounds worried and unsure.

At once, a spirit with a bright light, brighter than the others around it, shines through. It slides to the front to drink from the food at the bottom of the pit. The figure morphs and forms into Kim Taehyung.

Despite everything, despite the long hours that Jungkook has committed to summoning Taehyung, the sight of his friend does not fill him with joy. It fills his eyes with tears.

You notice, you always do. You squeeze his hand, but you also let go of him. “I’ll leave you two.”

So Taehyung talks. He talks and talks, about his quest, about his sacrifice, about Namjoon, about forgiveness.

This is something Jungkook has wanted for weeks. Yet, the longer Taehyung talks, the deeper he can feel the rifts of frustration.

Frustration at Namjoon, for whom everyone is telling Jungkook to forgive.

Frustration at Taehyung, for leaving him drowning in the sorrows of his own nightmares. For leaving him, even when he wasn’t ready to be left.

Frustration at you, for always caring about him, even when he’s sure he doesn’t even care about himself anymore.

When Jungkook releases Taehyung back to the Underworld, he feels like a hollow shell. He simply stands there, in front of the pit that brought forth his best friend. His mind is whirling with questions, with a curiosity.

You approach him slowly. “Jungkook…”

“You should go back,” He mutters.

You actually look shocked at this now. “What?”

He turns on his heel to address you properly. “Go back to camp.” He doesn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the words come out like a snap. He tries to reprimand the situation when your face falls just a fraction. “Go back to camp,” He tries again, a little softer this time. He keeps his gaze on you, even when you look up to stare at him. “It’ll be okay. I just need a little bit of time.”

At this, you nod slowly. You try for a smile. “Come back home, okay?”

He thinks he knows what you mean, but you disappear before he can ask you.

He returns to Camp Half Blood after a few days, with his leather jacket and black iron sword. The campers that guard the border part for him like the Red Sea—with the exception of one camper. He’s an older camper, who even in the dark shines brighter than the moon overhead. It’s a son of Apollo quality. It belongs to Jung Hoseok, a camper Jungkook met when he first arrived at camp. Hoseok is like sunshine—he’s always bright and cheerful with a positive disposition.

Today, despite still having that glint in his eyes, the boy wears a much more solemn expression. Almost as if he’s seen everything that Jungkook has gone through. Or, at the very least, has heard about it. “Hey Jungkook…” Hoseok greets. He doesn’t leave much room for conversation, because he gestures past the archway entrance, down the hill, towards the Big House—the main meeting place for campers, the central point of Camp Half Blood. “She’s waiting for you.”

He doesn’t need a list of camp names to know who Hoseok is talking about. Jungkook just mumbles his thanks, trying not to draw too much attention to the flush against his cheeks as he follows the pathway down into camp. It’s late, so the grounds are devoid of people, making it easier for Jungkook to step onto the porch of the Big House.

You’re on the porch, pacing back and forth with your thumb in between your teeth and you look nervous. You’re mumbling something underneath your breath.

But your ears are just as good as your eyes, because as soon as Jungkook steps on the wood, you’re whirling around to face him. “Jungkook!” You exclaim, approaching him with tentative steps. “Y-You came back.”

He levels you with a look, feeling a bashfulness overcome him. “You asked me to,” He says. There’s a slight pause. “I told you I needed time to think, and I have. You were right. Everyone deserves a second chance. It wasn’t fair of me to go after Namjoon the way I did.”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Jungkook continues to stare at you, feeling a fondness overcoming him. “Thanks,” He finally settles with. “For, you know, finding me. For not giving up on me.” He looks down, scratching the back of his neck. “I should probably go find Namjoon and apologize.”

You wave away his concern. “Namjoon is asleep.” You angle your head towards the oceanside that surrounds the camp. “Want to take a walk with me?”

So you lead him through the camp, past the cabins of campers, past the archery set, past all that, to finally the beach located along the outskirts of the camp. It’s home to many boat races, surfing adventures, and firework displays. Currently, it’s devoid of activity. Right now there is merely a wooden pier that stretches out into the ocean, one that you and Jungkook walk down before you settle down at the edge.

You pat the spot next to you, and Jungkook sits down. Since you don’t say anything, he allows himself to stare out at the horizon, and the movement of the ocean. When you still don’t say anything, Jungkook dares himself to look at you. The moonlight is cascading across your features. You look like home. You feel like home.

You look at him suddenly, and knit your eyebrows. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Oh, uh, no…” He trails off, forcing himself to look away from you. Should he tell you? Not tell you, but… “Hey Y/N,” Jungkook speaks before he can think otherwise.

You look at him. “Yes?”

Jungkook straightens his back a little. “I-I think I should tell you… I didn’t come back just for Namjoon. Actually, I came back to tell you that I, uh, well, I missed you—I mean, hanging out with you—I wanted to be a better person because of you—I mean, not just because of you, but—!”

You start to smile at that, before you do something unexpected. You lean over and kiss his cheek.

He feels like his body has just been shocked, the sensation dancing up and down his spine. “W-What was that for?” He’s trying to sound confused, but his nerves immediately start getting the best of him.

Your smile is still present, but it’s a kind smile that touches your eyes and assures him of his choice to return. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. You still wear your emotions in your eyes. That’s one that hasn’t changed over the past year.”

He scoffs, but his face feels hot and he’s sure the effect he’s trying to go for is lost anyways.

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts angst #traci writes #collection:petals

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fearlessjournalism · 3 years

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writer ask game

tagged by @grasslandgirl ty ty 💚💚💚

what's your all-time favorite ship?

All Time Favorite is far too high a bar but like currently no thoughts head sam/peter, previously no thoughts nalby and minewt from tmr (like i know that series is a mess but goddammit someone’s gotta fix its crimes). rin/venka from tpw haha jk unless?

how many works do you have on ao3?

fifteen babeyyyy we do be. slow writers in this household.

what's your total ao3 word count?

61,003

what are your top five fics by kudos?

Brushfire (av), holding all I used to be sorry about (the flash) (ugh), To Chip Away (atla), One New Post: Missed Connection (atla), and Background Radiation of the Universe (tmr)

do you reply to comments, why or why not?

I do! or like. I try to. sometimes I space out but I do try to. tbh I started doing it because it was nice when other people responded to me, so I wanted to do that for other people bc they took the time to read and to comment (I also think it encourages people to comment more on fics in general, so it’s good for the wider ecosystem).

fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

A Hundred Thousand Loves (for just this one) (tmr) lmaooo like it wasn’t gonna end any other way but I was still like well damn that’s a bummer

fic you've written with the happiest ending?

oh hm. I feel like a lot of mine end well? I have my retroactive issues with brushfire but I feel like that ending is the happiest in some ways even if it doesn’t seem that way up front because it’s like… realistic happy? like, everything hasn’t been perfect, everything won’t be perfect, but we’ve made our peace with that and we’re trying in spite of it

do you write crossovers?

not like, these characters from one thing meet the characters from this other thing crossovers, but sometimes I’ll take like. an element of a universe and bring it into a different one yknow? although that’s usually just for fun and it doesn’t go anywhere

have you ever recieved hate on a fic?

no but I think that would be really funny you’d have to go so far out of your way for that

do you write smut? if so what kind?

I think I’d pass away sometimes the catholicism gets my ass

have you ever had a fic stolen?

no but again I think that would be really funny who would go out of their way to steal like. american vandal fics.

have you ever had a fic translated?

no but that’d be fuckin sick

have you ever co-written a fic before?

honestly I don’t know that I’d be pleasant to like. actually cowrite a fic with BUT a lot of my brainstorming process is collaborative

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I’m trying not to think about it but I will say if I had the power to magically finish one it might be the mailee vigilante au I was writing for atla like a year ago

what are your writing strengths?

uuuuuuuu dialogue I think? sometimes i think I’m leaning too much into Witty Banter but then I talk to my family and it’s just like that so… we walk among you I guess

what are your writing weaknesses?

uuuuuuuu anything that’s not dialogue I think? no but actually when I was writing one of my fics for the flash it took me 45 fucking minutes to write one character coming around a desk and kissing another. like. making characters move is so goddamn hard for me it’s absolutely insane.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

in general? no problem with it as long as the person like… knows what they’re doing. for me? I took latin in high school and then forgot all of it and I’m not great with spoken languages so I will leave that to the professionals.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

officially, TMR. unofficially, I look back at a lot of my early writing and it was unintentional but thinly veiled fanfic of like. the lioness quartet or the avalon: web of magic series (side note did that series exist for other people??? please contact me asap if this existed for you that shit was FORMATIVE)

what's your favorite fic you've written?

I think last time I said it was a hundred thousand loves and I think I stand by that but I’m also genuinely fond of how anatomy turned out. idk if it’s A Favorite but I’m still riding the high of it actually turning out the way I wanted it to

tagging: @mrsinistertype @lesbiantoziers @phonecallfromgod @newtedison

#none of yall like have to do it I just refuse to feel like a Clown Supreme™️ who doesn’t tag anyone #I’ve just been looking up avalon web of magic for like 20 minutes now and honestly??? adriane and kara should’ve ended up together #girl help #anyway ty!!!#ask game

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bbclesmis · 6 years

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All hail David Bradley, the standout star of Les Misérables

The veteran character actor has stolen the show in the glossy BBC adaptation

If you’d told me a few weeks ago that the most moving part of the BBC’s lavish adaptation of Les Misérables would be the relationship between Marius (Josh O’Conner) and his grandfather, a character so unimportant he doesn’t even exist in the Les Mis musical, I wouldn’t have believed you.

If you’d let slip that Marius’ grandfather was played by the 76-year-old David Bradley, however, I might have given you the benefit of the doubt. For years veteran character actor Bradley has brought warmth, nuance and a sense of fun to his roles, and among starrier turns in the latest Andrew Davies bodice-ripper he’s done some great work (full disclosure – we’ve also met for an interview in the past, and he was very nice).

When we first meet Gillenormand, Bradley’s French nobleman and grandfather to Marius, he’s an out-and-out villain. Powdered, bewigged and caked in makeup, he’s the antithesis of Marius’ clean-cut and heroic father, whom Gillenormand banishes from his household while cruelly promising to ruin the elder Pontmercy in the eyes of his son.

As the episodes go on we see Gillenormand continue to rubbish Marius’ father to the young boy, much to the chagrin of his live-in housekeeper and even a few of Gillenormand’s royalist friends, who cast an eye askance over his actions. Surely, we think, this is a man about to receive his comeuppance.

And that comeuppance does arrive speedily, as you might expect. What you might not expect is how much pathos Bradley brings to Gillenormand’s reaction when Marius spurns him. Eyes wavering and swimming with emotion as he blusters and berates his errant grandson, Gillenormand’s pride (and prejudice) barely hold firm against the torrent of love and affection he has no idea how to express.

Somehow, Bradley found incredible pathos and humanity behind this monster – and in the series’ final episode, as a wounded Marius calls Gillenormand “Father”, I found myself more moved than I was when watching any of the more operatic central relationships established over the last six episodes.

As I say, none of this should be a surprise. Bradley is a master of portraying craggy older men with a soft side, most ably demonstrated during his BAFTA-winning turn in the first series of Broadchurch (nearly six years on, I occasionally still choke up when thinking of a scene where his character, dressed in full Sea Scout regalia and facing an angry mob, realises none of his troop are coming to their meeting) but also in superficially less complex roles.

As Harry Potter’s Argus Filch, arguably his most famous part, during short appearances Bradley gave the surly caretaker more heart than he’d ever had in JK Rowling’s novels. Playing both William Hartnell and his First Doctor in Doctor Who-related projects, he brought warmth from beneath a chilly exterior – and in a long and storied career, these are just a few recent examples. Frankly, it’s a travesty that no-one has cast him as Scrooge over the years.

Of course, Bradley gives good villain as well – his turn as Game of Thrones’ irredeemable Walder Frey was a lip-smacking triumph – but even within that he’s brought in some fascinating extra layers. The first scene of Thrones’ seventh season starred Bradley playing Maisie Williams’ Arya Stark as she impersonated the late Lord Frey, a performance within a performance that still stands as a highlight of that action-packed year for the fantasy series.

But stealing the show from the likes of Dominic West and David Oyelowo in Les Misérables, while playing a character who was only even a small part of Victor Hugo’s original novel, might be his most impressive achievement yet. All hail David Bradley – the true master of scene-stealing.

(x)

#les mis bbc #bbc les mis #David Bradley #Gillenormand #articles #reviews #radio times

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speedofazure · 6 years

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Rules: Answer 20 questions then tag 20 (give or take) followers you wanna get to know better! Stolen from: @terminalvelocityau Tagging 20 people: Steal it go ahead

Name: Breanna

Nickname: Olra, Wolfry, or Bre, take your pick

Height: Short (5′2″)

Nationality: American

Favorite Fruit: Honeydew

Favorite Season: Fall, all the festivals happen over here in the fall and there’s not too many bugs.

Favorite Smell: I really like rustic smells. The smell of bread cooking on the oven, the nice smell of wood, the smell of trees radiating in through the cracks...

Favorite Color(s): Orange. ESPECIALLY WHEN MIXED WITH A BIT OF PURPLE OKAY

Favorite Animal: Cats, cheetahs, etc.

Tea, Coffee, Hot Cocoa: Hot Cocoa, I hate hot tea and I hate frozen coffee, and i’m neutral to the other way around.

Average Hours of Sleep: I think I sleep for 8-10 hours usually???

Dogs or Cats: Either is fine by me

Dream Trip: I wanna go to either Greece, Germany, or Japan.

When my blog was created: WAAAAAAY back in 2013 this muse started, I think the first URL was bioprojectsonic...? Otherwise I think this blog in particular was created last year.

# of Followers: 157

Random Fact: I HAVE SIX THINGS I WANT TO SAY SO IM GONNA IGNORE THE ONE-FACT RULE--

I have both sectoral and central heterochromia (brown dot in the left eye, which are otherwise Hazel, and the rims of my irises are a steely blue.)

I’m autistic and get overly attached to stuff.

I am going to help run a group i’ve been in for 4 years.

I am a middle child.

My favorite time of day is at dusk.

I have familial tremors but that’s not gonna stop me from drawing.

Favorite Food: Pizza and Burritos, surprisingly i’m not fat.

Favorite TV show: That’s hard to say because I don’t watch. I like early 2000s Cartoon Network so--

OTHERWISE MY LATEST FAD IS MY HERO ACADEMIA BUT I HAVENT CAUGHT UP WITH THE LATEST ARC GGGGGHHHHH

Favorite Movie: THAT’S. Hard to say. I have a lot.

Favorite Vine: This one literally made me squeal (Loud Volume Warning)

Sexuality: Asexual? I haven’t figured it out yet but I don’t see myself settling with someone.

Gender: Female

Favorite Book Series: What’s Reading? (jk I really like Redwall but I never read it in a long while)

Favorite Video Game(s):

Kirby: Planet Robobot, it’s the best Kirby game fite me on this

A GOOD CHUNK OF THE SONIC GAMES. Especially Sonic and the Black Knight

Miitopia

Super Smash Bros. Give me a game and i’ll play it just fine.

Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker

Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

A Hat in Time (I haven’t completed it yet dont tell anyone--)

Favorite Subject(s): I found myself acing in certain ones in high school, but talk to me about video games and i’ll gush.

Favorite Fandom(s):

Kirby

Digimon

Sonic, specifically the RPC here you all chill

Favorite Superhero: Dr. Strange and the recent Spider Man. The former applies to my love of illusions (and also our hands both shake so I connect with him) and Spider Man is a precious bean that didn’t deserve to die.

Guys or Girls: I don’t know.

Celebrity crush: No

Last time I cried: A few days ago

Hair Color: A darkish brown

Eye Color: Hazel

What Should I Be Doing: Drawing and/or going to sleep

#out of chili #in which I dabble on about myself

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scriptaed · 7 years

Text

paper hearts finale.

♡ genre: angst/fluff

♡ pairing: reader x jungkook x jimin

♡ length: 6.4k

♡ synopsis: It has been nearly a year since you started writing anonymous letters to Jungkook, giving him words of encouragement behind the thin mask of a paper. He never considered you as a possible suspect behind these letters, because you were nothing more than a best friend. And you couldn’t put all the blame on him either, after all, you were too afraid to confess in fear of tarnishing your precious friendship.

♡JK ♡JM

I’m sorry things had to turn out this way, and I can’t help but wonder if things might’ve turned out differently if you or I had been a step earlier or later. Pretty useless thinking, huh? What if I hadn’t accepted your help? What if you never fell for the cowardly girl hiding behind paper hearts? I say that, but here I am writing on yet another piece of paper hoping it’d say the words I should say myself. I guess my last paper heart won’t be a letter of confession, but rather a letter of apology.

I’m sorry about how we ended. Is it selfish of me to say I still wish we had a future together somewhere far off in another universe? It’d be nice if it was in the same universe as us. But that’d only cause us more pain, and so I came to the conclusion that the only thing we need now is time.

I heard time heals all sorts of things; scars, heartache, longing for the unreachable past. Should we test it out? It’s a dumb request for me to make, but a part of me is hoping you’ll keep this paper close to your heart. And maybe if we meet again in the future, when you come back from studying abroad or something, you would show me this silly paper heart and we would laugh at how many things have changed with time. Maybe our hearts won’t hurt so much by then. Maybe we’d forget the memories we shared together, maybe we’d leave each other behind in the past.

But who am I kidding? I won’t forget. I can’t forget. Even if my heart belongs to someone else, I guess you can say this is a small piece of my heart that you’ve stolen from me. Perhaps one day, regardless of which universe we’re in, this paper heart can be exchanged for more than what it’s worth. It’s a big proposition, but who knows what the future holds for us? I mean, I never expected any of this to happen just a year and half ago when I started writing these letters.

God, I’ve gone so off topic. I really don’t know why you wanted one of these worthless papers. I guess a part of me is just trying to drag this out so I’d never have to say goodbye. But all good things must come to an end, right? Thank you for pulling me out of the dumps and giving me everything you had and knew about love. I hope this isn’t the end; a part of my foolish self thinks I’ll see a more experienced, devoted version of you, confidently holding another undeserving girl in your arms. Let’s hope a time like that comes for us soon. I’ll see you later, then.

The words to your lengthy paper heart was still engraved deep into the back of your mind as the years passed by. One year, two years—and still no news from him. Of course, he must have been extremely busy adapting to a new environment and culture within a separate country, whereas you were also exhausted with an overload of classes this year yourself.

Dozens of things had changed since two years ago. You and Jungkook had your own happy ending shortly after his leave. It was a great one and half years spending your time laughing your lungs out with your best friend; but like how life always works, the onslaught of classwork, exams, and chasing of dreams inevitably intervened to cause a momentary break between your relationship with Jungkook. You two were still great—amazing—best friends; the only thing that had changed was labeling yourselves as a couple, allowing both of you to explore your lives together, and yet not always glued to each other’s arms as an item.

He was busy with pursuing his career as a musician, and you were busy figuring yourself out in college. Maybe you two would tie your future together once again someday in the future when neither of you were so caught up with your own lives, when being nothing more than best friends with a history no longer satisfied you. But as for now, life was your main focus.

The one thing that didn’t change was Jimin’s mysterious leave. Neither you nor Jungkook heard back from him since that day; you didn’t even know if he was back from his studies abroad. And although you had finally let the past become concrete past, the final paper heart you had last written remained lingering in the back of your mind.

There was nothing else you could have said in the letter. It wrapped up the spur of events and heartache from two years ago and ended that chapter of your life as well as it could possibly be closed. But the way that you had left it off, the way you had practically tore out a piece of paper heart which represented your own physical heart and given it away to a boy who was thousands of miles apart from you now, it only made you wishing for more; not necessarily for love—no, enough time had passed for you to focus on possibilities before you which appeared much more likely than something as silly as reconciliation with him—but rather for reassurance.

Jungkook was happy pursuing his career with his best friend by his side, and you were more than happy setting your relationship aside in search for whatever seemed to make your heart gape with an unclosed hole of an unfinished story. But what really struck you hard every night when the rush of the day had gone and passed was the whereabouts of Jimin—was he happy?

“What’re you daydreaming about now?” a familiar voice playfully teased, an arm swinging over your shoulders and nearly causing you to collapse to the ground. You turned your head to, unsurprisingly, find Jungkook shining brightly with a giddy, mischievous smile plastered all over his face. He cocked his head and raised his brows suggestively, “getting coffee? Getting coffee with me? Or perhaps, just me?”

“Get over yourself,” you snorted, laughing and rolling your eyes at him.

“Did I make you wait too long?” he asked, gently pushing you forward by his side with his arm slung over your shoulders.

“Yeah, like always,” you bluntly remarked. You took a deep breath and sighed, feigning disappointment. “Too busy at the studio for your best friend I guess.”

“Oh c’mon! I was just,” he checked his watch, “two minutes late!”

“Well that’s two minutes too late for me,” you chimed, pressing your lips into a whimsical smile. You grabbed the jacket that hung over your crossed arms and pushed it against Jungkook’s chest, causing him to instinctively hold them up from falling to the grips of gravity. His eyes widened and he quirked a brow at you, receiving no answer and little to no time to question your sudden actions when you playfully push him off of you and began sprinting down the streets. “Race you to the cafe!”

“Yah, Y/N! You can’t get a head start! That’s not fair!” he yelled after you, but you were already well on your way to the store just a few blocks down from the ever so familiar convenience store near your house.

Just as you bursted through the swinging glass doors of the small frequented coffee shop, a series of heavy, heaving breaths follow behind you as a pair of arms wrapped around you, tightening to give you a secure, bear hug. The breeze from the usual morning dew and chilly air came rushing through the slowly closing doors behind you, but the warmth of Jungkook’s chest pressed against your back envelopes you and shields you from both the cold and dangers of the outside world.

“You really still think you can outrun me?” Jungkook chuckled under his lightening breaths. He sang his next several words teasingly, “I’m still faster than you even if you get a head start!”

You scoffed at how blatantly competitive he was being, but you were given little to no time to throw some sort of rebuttal when he threw your jacket’s hood over your face, covering your eyes and engulfing your line of sight with pitch black darkness. Taking a step away from you, the warmth behind your back dissipated along with him as he ruffled your hair through the thick cotton fabric of your hoodie.

“Now take your jacket, because I’m parched,” he said out loud to your blinded sight, the loud footsteps of his allowing you to estimate his growing distance from you. “Want me to order the usual for you?”

“Yeah,” you grumbled between your barely parted lips, probably inaudible to Jungkook’s deafened ears as he hummed to himself and practiced for what he would soon come to master in the recording studio.

Pulling the jacket off your face, you ran your hand through your hair in an attempt to smooth down its disheveled state while walking to the corner of the shop to take a seat next to a table reserved for the two regulars. You looked around the cafe to find a few customers with computers and phones sprawled across their tables.

Everyone was going about their day like usual, but the nagging feeling of something that was missing never left your head. Every day you would enter the store, look around, and scrunch your face in confusion over what could possibly be missing. It was a sensation you often heard as a longing for someone from the past or someone you wished was here in the present… but what was there to long for when they had never been here with you in the first place?

It didn’t take very long before Jungkook was walking towards you with two cups of coffee in his hand, a bunny-like smile adorning his face as he plopped into the seat in front of you and slid your drink across the table towards you.

“One for me,” he chimed, popping two straws through its paper wrappings and sticking them into his and your cups, “and one for you.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled and quickly took a long sip of your drink. The sweetness mixed with the bitterness of the coffee sat on your tastebuds, satisfying their caffeine withdrawals and allowing you to hum in approval.

“Let me get a quick sip,” you heard Jungkook blurt out before the cold, dripping dew of your cup was pulled from the palms of your hand, and the next thing you knew, Jungkook was already sucking through your straw like his life depended on it. “Mm, it’s as good as always.”

“If you’re gonna ‘sip’ literally half of my drink away, then why don’t you just get one yourself,” you pursed your lips and snatched your drink back.

“So I can order my own drink and get the best of both worlds,” he clicked his tongue and gave you two finger guns before quickly occupying his lips with the straw of his cup and his eyes with the less than amusing tabletop, obviously too scared to look up at the glare you were giving him.

“God, sometimes I wonder why I’m even friends with you. How did I survive dating you for one and half years?” you joked.

“What? You want to get back together?” Jungkook pretended to mistaken your question for another. He chuckled at the way you scrunched your nose and abruptly shook your head, but he quickly pouted at you in an attempt to put on an offended face and hide his growing amusement. “You don’t like me? Fine, I guess we’re calling off our friendship too.”

He stood up from his chair only to be pushed back down by your feet as you swung your leg comfortably into his lap like always. “Ay, you know I’m just joking,” you laughed. “I had the time of my life dating my best friend, but I just don’t think we have the time to do that anymore. At least not at the moment, not with our circumstances.”

“Yeah…” Jungkook took a deep breath and sighed, playing with his straw. “Now that I’m busy trying to get signed by a record label and you’re busy with life, there really hasn’t been much time for us to sit down here and just talk.”

“But it was a fun two years,” you smiled. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.”

Jungkook glanced up from his drink to reciprocate your bittersweet smile. His front two teeth peeked from under his up-curved lips as he cooed, “who knows, maybe we can try again some time in the future.”

“Says the one with multiple girls chasing after him,” you scoffed.

“Hey, I never dated any of them!” Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gaped at you as though he was being accused of a crime.

“You’re lucky if none of them happen to be like Yuri.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes at the mention of her name. “Don’t even remind me.”

“I’m never letting you live that down,” you chortled at his response. “But at least you have people chasing after you. I, on the other hand, have zero men lining outside of my house.”

“That’s not true. I offered you multiple blind dates, but you never took them—”

“—only because you kept bad mouthing them and suggesting me not to go on them,” you corrected. “I don’t get why you’d set me up if you don’t even want me to date any of them.”

“No, but I felt bad about our break, because if you think about it, it’s my fault we’re even taking a break in the first place,” he sighed.

“It’s not your fault, Jungkook. We both needed a break. Plus, we’re both still equally happy being just friends. Maybe it’s a sign we need a break from each other and explore other options, yeah?” you softly assured him.

“Yeah, as long as we’re still friends like we are now,” he gave you a lopsided smile.

You mirrored his smile with a wider one, thoughts wandering off to other topics that had been roaming in your head for a while now. “But what if I do end up dating someone? Would you be okay with that?”

“...it’s really your choice,” Jungkook raised a brow at your question, eyes slightly popping open at the suggestion he thought he’d never hear from you. “But none of the people I’ve seen so far deserve you. Or at least I don’t really trust them.”

“So you’re saying I should either marry you or die alone,” you deadpanned.

“No,” he chortled, nearly choking on his own drink. “I’m just saying if I had to entrust you to someone, then I guess Jimin would be the next one on the list… after me, of course.”

“Jimin?”

His name left your lips like a name forbidden to be spoken out loud; you hadn’t said in his name in months. He would occasionally pop up in your conversations with Jungkook and Taehyung, who often hung out with Jungkook at the same studio, but there really was no need to mention him any more than that—no, rather, your heart couldn’t handle the pain of speaking his name outside of your already scrambled mind. Saying his name to others, mentioning and acknowledging his existence only pained you further.

He was like an existence which only seemed to belong in the midst of your dreams and memories like the mirage hidden in between the seams of the fog and rain in a storm raging through the thin, midnight air. Sure, you had gotten over the majority of your broken heart, but the only thing that pained you was knowing the wrongdoings you had inflicted upon him. You wanted to know if he was okay, if he was doing well, if he was madly in love, and if he learned how to love and how to be loved.

And even though you had mentioned your hopes of him meeting another girl who could teach him the things you thought you couldn’t, and as selfish as it was, a part of you hoped that he was still out there thinking of you—because you still thought of him. Maybe not as often as you did back then, maybe not with the same affection and longing as time had dulled those fervent feelings, but you still thought of him. He was still an existence which lingered in the back of your mind, and it was only natural for you to wonder if he held you in the same regards.

“Jimin hasn’t contacted us in two years, Jungkook,” you snapped out of your daze and solemnly reminded him.

“I know. That damn boy… I swear if I see him, I’m going to knock him out or something… I thought our friendship meant more than that,” he mumbled under his breath, hands fidgeting into fists as he eyed his cup of drink as though it was Jimin.

You chuckled at his behavior, because as much as you had seen him fight with Jimin during those several months of havoc and heartbreak, the months which followed after were much more affectionate. You could tell he really missed his friend even if they never seemed to return his texts.

“Okay, then what if I do end up dating Jimin?” your question slipped past your lips, surprising both you and Jungkook as he lifted his gaze to stare wide eyed at you.

“If he returns?”

“Yeah. If he somehow returns and reconnects with us.”

“...I guess that’d be the best option,” he slowly came to a conclusion, furrowing his brows. “As long as you’re happy and you want to be with him, then I’m all for it.”

“Really?” you chuckled under your breath. “Well, thanks, but all this talk is useless if he’s never coming back. I don’t think he’d want to reconcile with me after all that we’ve been through.”

“I’m sure we’ll hear from him at some point in time. Be it through text, phone call, or even Taehyung, we’ll find out soon. And when he does return, and you get along with him better than ever, then I’d be glad to finally see him have his happy ending. I’ve had mine already. It’s time for his. Maybe I’ll be a bit jealous—okay, really jealous—but just because I’m busy with life, doesn’t mean that I should be holding you back from yours,” he paused to carefully watch the growing smile creep onto your lips. “...and if he doesn’t, then he doesn’t deserve you. I’ll be here even if he isn’t, Y/N. Best friends, lovers, whatever you want,” he gently grabbed ahold of your hand and squeezed it, locking his wide, circular eyes with yours. “As long as you’re happy. That’s all I ever wanted and want.”

“Thanks, Jungkook. Really,” you gave him a smile, softly laughing as you bashfully ducked your head. You peeked under the table to find his leg bouncing up and down, something he always did at a certain point in time you had learned to become accustomed to throughout your years of friendship with him. You snorted, “now go use the restroom.”

“You’re right, I really need to go,” he laughed along with you, letting go of your hand and getting up from his seat. “I’ll be right back!”

And without another word, he disappeared into the halls leading to the restroom at the back of the cafe. You chuckled with your cheeks cupped in your hands and your elbow leaning against the table, watching your best friend waddling his way with utmost urgency into the backroom. But your momentary amusement was cut short when a set of tinkling rings from the small bells tied to the handle of the cafe’s entrance door, your eyes averting to find the familiar back of a boy reciting his order to the cashier.

“One caramel macchiato for me, please,” the boy coolly chimed.

You cocked your head to the side, seeing the small frame of his shoulders, his muscular arms hidden underneath the blue denim jacket which draped over his upper body frame. His skinny black jeans resembled ones which burned brightly in the back of your head, and the soft, blond-gray hues of his fluffed hair struck you as so similar to someone you had once knew that you couldn’t help but get up from your seat.

“I-I really love your fashion sense,” the girl stuttered the first thing which came to mind. Her shifty eyes scanned him up and down, eyes widening in shock over how ethereal and chic the boy standing before her was. Her eyes came to halt, the glimmer in them fading into darkness when they spotted whatever was hanging from his neck. “Ah, I like that necklace too… are you taken…?”

“Hm?” he followed her line of sight and glanced down at himself. He lowly chuckled, a raspy, throaty chuckle which you knew all too well. “Not exactly. My heart’s taken, but her’s isn’t. So I can’t really say I’m dating anyone at the moment.”

“Oh, really?” her eyes lit up once again, and even though you were in no way shape or form associated with the scene before you, a part of you was burning with jealousy. “But it’s halfway open. I know it’s a lock—”

—a lock? Your hands immediately buried itself into the depths of your pocket, fingers doing what it had learned to do out of instincts in the past two years, quickly entangling with the metallic chain of your necklace and rubbing against the key which hung from it.

“Oh, it kind of got stuck like that when I left here two years ago. I thought it was pretty annoying, leaving it half open half closed like that, but I guess it reminds me of how we ended things,” he shrugged, clasping the necklace in his hands as you could see the girl practically melt into a gush of puddles—probably because of his smile or romantic words.

“Since you’re not in contact with her anymore, w-would you maybe want to go—”

“—I’m sorry, but I’m in a rush right now. Can you maybe…” he pointed at the back of the cafe where all the drinks were being made, suggesting her to go off and about on her day as he continued his.

“Oh, yeah! I’m sorry,” she immediately apologized, snapping out of her daydreams and continuing with her duties as the cashier.

Somehow, at some point in time, you had made your way up to the front counter. His fair, soft skin, the ever so familiar edge of his jawline, and the way he held himself up so confidently, weight leaning on one leg and words flowing past his lips like honey; there was only one boy you knew who held all those qualities. Your hand gravitated towards him, hovering over his shoulder but too scared to make the final move when he finally turned around.

“Y/N?”

A pang struck against your chest, your heart rate skyrocketing, and your stomach filled with fluttering butterflies. Jimin was gazing down at you, eyes wide and soft, lips as plump and smooth as ever while they parted and awaited for your answer.

“Jimin…” you finally mumbled.

You could barely swallow the knot stuck in your dry throat as the two of you stared at each other in both awe and shock.

“How’ve you been?” he finally asked, a lopsided smile adorning his lips.

“I’ve been… alright, good, I guess. How about you…?” you stuttered with your words. Knitting your brows and never daring to avert your eyes from his, you choked out the question you had pondered over for the past many months. “Where have you been all this time?”

“Busy,” he simply replied, chuckling at your stammering. He looked over the room, “should we sit down somewhere and catch up?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Here,” you shuffled your way back to your seat, occasionally throwing a look back over your shoulder to check if what appeared to be a mirage was still there—and he was. Jimin softly laughed under his breath each time you glanced back to meet his calming, warm eyes—the eyes which you swore had once and were still gazing at you with utter adoration—and even you couldn’t believe how much time had passed between the two of you.

He was the same Jimin, that was for sure, but he was also another version of himself. He was gentler, he was softer in both appearances and the way he treated others he would once hardly care for, and if you were being honest, you would’ve never thought that this boy was once the renowned bad boy of your school.

“Is Jungkook here with you?” Jimin asked, sitting down in front of the cup Jungkook had left behind a few minutes earlier.

“Oh,” your stomach dropped when you were reminded of the feud between the two. You dropped your gaze and fiddled with the hem of your shirt. “Yeah.”

“Cool,” he chimed ever so casually that you glanced up to find him gently smiling at you with just one corner of his lips lifted. It seemed like you weren’t the only one who had allowed time to take its toll on you. “So did you two have your happily ever after?”

“Not exactly,” you shrugged. “We’re both busy with our lives and being best friends was enough for us, so we decided to take a break.”

“Ah, all that heartache for nothing?” Jimin joked, cocking his head to the side as he smiled at you in an attempt to make light of the past.

“Y/N! Sorry,I took so long,” you heard Jungkook calling out to you, stumbling from the hall and running up to your table only to stare at the two of you wide eyed. “...there was a line.”

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jimin nodded at him as though it was just another normal day bumping into his friend.

“What do you mean ‘hey,’” Jungkook scoffed, grabbing ahold of his hand and pulling his friend up onto his feet. “I think I deserve more of an explanation than that.”

Jungkook pulled him into a bear hug, patting his back so roughly that you even worried for Jimin’s well being. After a few seconds of tugging and passive aggressive threats, Jungkook released his friend and gave him firm punch against the arm.

“That’s for ignoring all of our texts,” he remarked.

“Ow,” Jimin winced, rubbing his arm as he laughed with his friend.

“Jungkook!” you hissed, threatening that he’d be the one to be punched next if he kept his act up.

“It’s okay, I deserve it. I had to switch my number, but I figured things would’ve been better off if I gave us time apart,” he chuckled at Jungkook’s death glare.

“Are you serious? That’s your reason?”

“Hey, it worked didn’t it?” Jimin laughed when Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you grab a seat and we can all catch up on our lives together?”

“Oh, sure,” Jungkook chimed, but he suddenly halted as his eyes glanced between you and him. He quickly took a step back, holding his hand out as though to defend himself from interrupting something. “Actually, on second thought… I left something back at the studio. I’ll catch up with you later, Jimin. See you two!”

Your eyes popped open and you nearly jumped up to grab his hand when he winked at you, pivoting on his heels and bolting straight out of the store. Now it was just you, Jimin, and the drink Jungkook had clumsily forgotten.

“As dumb as always, I see,” Jimin mumbled, lifting the cup and shaking his head in disapproval.

“We’ve all changed actually,” you blurted out, lowering your voice when you realized how assertive you sounded. “...especially you.”

“Really?” he quirked a brow.

“Yeah. You’re much… sweeter? Soft? I mean I’ve always seen that side to you, but I’ve never seen you act so kindly and openly towards others. It’s a nice change,” you smiled.

“I guess being in another country really does change you,” he laughed.

“It’s hard to think how much has changed in just two years,” you took a deep breath and sighed.

“Yeah, I think someone has told me before that time heals everything.”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Things that seemed to hurt so damn much no longer brings me pain... Decisions we made in the past seem dumber than ever. And all I really remember from back then was happiness and not the typical teenage heartbreak. I guess time really does change things,” you pressed your lips into a forced smile. But if there was one thing that didn’t change, you thought to yourself, it would be just how much you missed him. “Especially the paper hearts. Those seem sillier than ever now that I look back on it.”

“They weren’t silly. I thought they were the most precious things anyone could receive,” he reassured you, eyes crinkling into crescents as he flashed you the smile you had fallen over and over for.

“Really?”

“Yeah, otherwise I wouldn’t have kept it for so long,” he pulled out a familiar piece of partially crumpled paper out from his pocket, laying it on the table for you to see.

Your heart nearly stopped, and yet it was pounding so fast and so forcefully that you could barely contain your mix of emotions: both excitement and shock.

“You really kept it all this time…?” you lightly laughed in disbelief.

“You said I should keep it for the next time we meet,” he stated. “And here we are. I kept my promise.”

“I, actually, um,” you stammered, quickly rummaging through your pockets to pull out the necklace which held the key to the lock hanging around his neck. “I kept this too…”

“I guess we’re both silly romantics,” he chuckled, shaking his head at the sight of familiar items from two years ago laying before him.

“I guess so,” you repeated, a smile stretching from ear to ear.

“...but as you said, both of us have changed.”

You didn’t know what exactly in your stomach dropped, but you knew for sure the agonizing, ever so familiar pain of your guts twisting at his words.

“What do you mean…?” you knitted your brows.

“We don’t feel the same way as we did two years ago. We’re different people now, Y/N. Time really has healed all the pain and it’s given me a chance to change.”

“I guess you’ve learned more than one thing after studying abroad…” you muttered under your breath, trying to conceal the pain which his words brought you.

His eyes were staring at yours, but yours were only glued to the floor in hopes that you’d suddenly disappear from the face of the planet. Who were you to get ahead of yourself? Who knew the second you came face to face with Jimin, you’d be reminded of the little hope which lingered in you the past couple years? Who were you to assume that he’d want to reconcile just because you wrote a dumb letter to him instructing him to do so? Nothing had changed; you were just as foolish as you were before.

“Yeah, I’ve learned lots of things. I’ve thought about what I could have possibly done to change things back then, to make it so that things wouldn’t have gone so awry. To put it frankly, Y/N, I’ve moved on—”

“—I’m sorry, but I think I need to go,” you quickly interrupted him.

Getting up from your seat, you shook your head countless times and apologized for such an abrupt leave before dashing out of the store with your head low and your eyes blurry with tears. Any second longer listening to how Jimin had abandoned your past, how you were the only one still stuck between the past and the present, and you knew you’d be bawling your eyes out. Sure, you had gotten over the past yourself too, but meeting Jimin and seeing him keep all these things you had kept too made you hope for a chance to experience what you couldn’t two years ago. You thought this was the time; the time for him and you to become a thing of the present rather than the future.

You were rubbing your water filled eyes with the back of your hand when you suddenly heard the doors behind you sliding open and closed, heavy breathing and panting between you and the boy who stood just a few feet behind you.

“Y/N, I was lying! I was lying about everything,” he quickly blurted out. “I was just trying to make a point to you. I was hoping you felt the same way as I did the last two years. I thought I wanted to see you make the first move for once, but I didn’t want to see you hurt like this.”

You remained silent, trying to swallow the sobs which threatened to escape your lips.

“I swore I wouldn’t ever hurt you again if I even had the chance to see you when I returned. But I guess I did. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone about it in such a dumb way,” he apologized softly.

Carefully and slowly turning around, you glanced up at Jimin who stood helplessly behind you with sorrowful eyes. “So what exactly was your point…?”

He took a deep breath and sighed, judging by the way he constantly took a step forward and backwards, every inch of him wanted to close the distance between you two and hold you in his arms to comfort you. But there was something stopping him from doing so.

“If there was one thing that I realized after thinking over and over about our past… it always boiled down to the paper hearts,” he explained, eyes softening with urge and guilt for simply watching the sobs escape your lips. “I loved the paper hearts, Y/N. They’re comforting, they’re adorable, they’re heartwarming… but the one thing it never conveyed was its sincerity. Rather than receiving paper hearts, I’d rather have captured your actual heart. I don’t want to read the words, I want to hear the words in person.”

“So my paper hearts were just a replacement for what I didn’t have the confidence to do?” you confirmed the suspicions you had been thinking of all along.

No one had told you the flaw of your notes, not even Jungkook. It was true. Paper was always a thing which allowed humans to create things they couldn’t physically make. In your case, paper hearts were a representation of the heart you were too scared to confess and give to its receiver. What you needed to do was say it in person. Do it in person. Prove to the receiver that they meant enough for you to put your heart and yourself out there all in hopes that they’d reciprocate those feelings. After three years of trial and error, heartbreak and heartache, now you knew what to do.

“I don’t know if I’ve changed as much as you think, Y/N, but my feelings for you haven’t changed. I missed you every single damn day, and when I read your letter, I was hoping for a day like this where a future for us was possible,” he breathily confessed. “I’m telling you this in person, Y/N. I’ve chased and chased, but the only thing that has prevented us, or even you and Jungkook, from happening was the wait for you to make your own move.”

You stood there, gulping and staring at him as you were planning out your next move throughout his confession. You knew what you were going to do already, you didn’t need any more second to ponder over your decision. Tonight you were going to abandon your paper hearts; you were going to let it become a thing of the past. Now was the future you had longed for in the past, now was the time for you and Jimin to become reality, now was his time, his time for a happy ending.

“I like you, Y/N. And even after all these years of dumb choices and worthless apologies, do you still like me?”

Holding back a smile, you took three large strides towards him before throwing yourself at him. Wrapping your arm around his neck and allowing him to lift you up into the air, you planted a large kiss onto his plump lips which enveloped yours with utmost warmth and years worth of longing.

“If my paper hearts weren’t enough to tell you so, then I’ll tell you in person,” you smiled at the dumb, widespread grin which adorned his face. “I like you too.”

Love is unpredictable in its own little way. One day you’d be bawling your heart out to Jungkook, and the other you’d be clutching your chest at the gnawing pain elicited by the tug of war between your best friend and his friend. Now was the present for you and Jimin, but judging by the funny way with which love works, maybe there’d be a future for you and Jungkook. The only thing which kept constant was your own paper heart.

Be it paper hearts, paper planes, or paper towns, none of them would be worthy enough to replace what it was truly modeled after. A paper plane would never carry the importance of an actual plane which connected people from one side of the world to the other. A paper town would never become a thriving city known to all people across the nations; it would never hold the thousands and millions of residents within its nightly, bustling activities. And a paper heart would never hold the same weight and affection with which your own heart held.

Hold your paper heart, remember and cherish the past heartaches and blissful memories within the weighty paper, and receive your true heart after years and years of waiting. That’s all you ever wanted. That’s what you learned from the fateful day you crafted this silly concept of anonymous letters folded into little paper hearts.

Love comes and goes, but nothing will become secreted into the past, present, and future if you didn’t make the final move.

And now, piles of dozens and dozens of paper hearts would come to tell the tale of a foolish girl who inevitably and irrevocably fell for two boys; a tale written down into history, revisited and continued for as long as the future held more paper hearts to be folded.

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