#I'd probably be willing to split my year; half here and half looking after the castle... but it would be tough to do even that

[apprenticestanheight]

A Start - Shotgunshipping

alllll right!! After having meant to since I initially watched Saw III and started this account, I am FINALLY writing for shotgunshipping. I wanted to put it off until I'd given the movie a rewatch but an idea came up while I was listening to boygenius and I couldn't resist. My requests are open to shotgunshipping reqs as well so if anyone wants me to write for these two more (I love them as much as I love chainshipping I am just TERRIFIED of writing for Amanda and mischaracterizing her and so I've put it off) send something in!

Fic type- this has elements of everything but angst and hurt/comfort are the biggest genres.

Warnings- a couple of mentions of weed, references to saw canon-typical violence, and despite the fact that I think I at least halfway nailed it, characters might still be slightly ooc

Amanda has spent most of her time within Johns orbit fearing the end of his life, what it means for her own and what the hell she's meant to do in the aftermath of his death. She's refused to think about it because it can send her into a spiral faster than any one of Marks individual threats, can make her so erratic that she loses touch with herself and dissociates with wide-eyes and a mind that is far less calm than she appears externally.

But, seeing John dead in front of her? Her mind is running wild and her gaze is unmoving. She has no clue where she's meant to go from here, what she's meant to do.

Marks letter comes to mind for a split second, and in that split second she realizes it doesn't matter anymore. John is dead because Jeff Denlon has killed him, and when an autopsy is preformed Johns cause of death will be determined as decapitation and slightly premeditated murder.

Another part of her itches to call someone, and as she flees out of the warehouse and down the street, running until she's jamming the key into the door of the apartment she shares with Adam, she fumbles around with the idea. Who, exactly, could Amanda call? Outside of John and a very limited friendship with Adam that has only blossomed out of necessity, she has exactly nobody.

Her parents don't talk to her, haven't since she was a college student in her early 20s. She has no siblings to speak of, no extended family that's willing to talk to her.

When she steps into the apartment, she's admittedly more than a little surprised to see Adam sitting on the couch in their living room.

"Didn't you and Lawrence have a date tonight?"

"Our date will begin after Lawrence fixes whatever chaos you managed to harbor and after I've taken photos of the aftermath," Adam grins. "You look spooked beyond the capability of any 90s era slasher, though. What happened?"

"Nothing much," Amanda pairs it with a grin, internally scoffs at herself because she can tell, right off the bat, that Adam sees it and is entirely unconvinced. "Uh--Chinese food?"

"C'mon, rockstar," Adam laughs. "We've lived together for two years, been friends most of that time. What happened? Did the trap not go as expected?"

"Something like that," Amanda nods. "John died and I didn't hear Lynns trap go off so she might've survived somehow but I don't think the cops know I'm one of his apprentices--or, if they think they know, that they can verify it--and everything just feels messy. Everything is unsure and messy and I fuckin' hate it."

"Try to relax, first and foremost," Adam nods. "If they do know, they have no feasible reason to care. Johns death is all that the cops or the coroners will care about for the next few days at least, and if Lynn is still alive she'll probably be too spooked to go to the police. I remember I was scared, and that deterred me for half a week after I was let go from the hospital."

"Johns dead," Amanda whispers. "You should be jumping for joy right now."

"Despite the anger issues and the sarcasm, I am in fact decent enough to keep my joyous jumping out of your line of sight," Adam says. "He was like a surrogate dad to you, Ames. You're allowed to grieve him."

Amanda tries to smile at Adam, fails miserably. He gives her the decency of a pity laugh, gives her shoulder a squeeze in lieu of a hug and makes no attempt to stop her when she heads for her room.

Amanda gets high, goes to sleep in the outfit she'd been wearing since she'd gotten dressed that morning.

-

Amanda wakes up the next day to find Lawrence making breakfast while Adam takes a shower, nods at him in greeting as she sets the coffeemaker up to make coffee as strong as the maker can handle.

"News outlets have begun reporting on it," Lawrence says quietly. "Lynn escaped alive-- the trap malfunctioned and bomb squad disabled it and took it off her, although her husband was shot by an officer and didn't make it out alive-- and I had Mark do a bit of snooping and you've not come up at the NJPD precinct. Their records are clear of you thanks to a bit of blackmail and the knowledge of the fact that John is dead. If Mark does anything to Jill, I will have to respond accordingly but all things considered, our regular lives may resume as they were before we were tested."

Amanda was tested somewhere close to her 27th birthday, and in the two years since she became one of his apprentices, John has been the earth where she is the moon, always within his orbit. Unendingly watching him, looking after him, making sure his plans are executed as he intends.

Now, Amanda feels like there is nothing left for her. Nothing exists--nothing she deserves, anyhow--within her grasp. She has yet to determine how she feels about that, but she knows it's there.

"Thank you," Amanda whispers, grabbing a coffee mug from the cabinet she and Adam keep them in.

"You'll need to find proper work," Lawrence says. "Adam mentioned that he's just recently quit the full-time receptionist job he worked to get a vet degree. They might take you in."

"You shouldn't gun for that," Adam says as he comes into their already small kitchen. Two people in that kitchen is a breeze and a half, but three? Three and it starts feeling squishy. "And because Lawrence made it sound like I wouldn't be able to cover rent, I do still work, just not at the receptionist job. I worked as a dog groomer on the weekends to keep my mind away from the bathroom for a while, and they just hired me back on full time in a way that accommodates my studying schedule. I can put in a good word for you with Amara? She's currently banging the hiring manager if you decide to apply."

Amanda gives an ungraceful snort, nods slightly. "I'd appreciate that, thank you."

"You need more than a shitty part time job," Adam shrugs. "You get the gig as a receptionist, its forty hour weeks, double minimum wage plus six bucks and decent people."

Amanda nods, pours the coffee and adds three sugars and a splash of milk so that it's to her preference for the hot rendition of the drink.

Adam takes some from the pot she made, laughs a little as he drinks it straight out. "You made this strong. Are you okay?"

Amanda nods in a way that she hopes is believable. "Just need to be awake for a while is all," she says. "Need to go for a walk, I think? Stay out of the apartment a little while and get my head straight."

"Do whatever you need," Adam nods. "However, if my wandering fingers happen upon your weed stash..."

"You're only allowed to touch the weed I have if you aim to get Lawrence stoned," Amanda laughs a little at the idea. "Or if you're too anxious to sleep."

Being one of Jigsaws apprentices practically guarantees nightmares because being one of his apprentices practically guarantees being tested.

Amanda was tested before she worked with him. Adam and Lawrence were tested before they worked with him. All three of them deal with nightmares night in and out.

It was too common of an occurrence for Amanda to wake up at four in the morning, grab her box of joints, go outside and have smoked three when she'd hear Adam, ambling about the kitchen to grab his bowl--which he clean after each use and thus leave to the right of the kitchen sink--and some weed to smoke to ease his anxiety after he'd woken up from three separate nightmares in one stream of unconsciousness.

"I'll grab a bit more from my dealer," Adam says. "You're gonna need it, rockstar."

Amanda moves to leave the kitchen, coffee mug in hand as she goes. "Yeah, yeah," she says. "Might get lucky and stop dealing with the nightmares now he's gone."

"Might not," Lawrence says.

"Probably won't," Adam tacks onto the end of the sentence. Amanda heads for her room, finishes her coffee while she grabs a towel and the outfitting for the day before she showers and leaves the apartment.

-

The walks, it turns out, help a decent amount. The games continue because of Mark but Amanda has absolutely no part in them, and when Amara Lewinsky calls and tells her she's gotten the receptionist job that Adam had quit in the name of eventually getting his degree as a vet, Amanda actually sighs in relief.

Weeks have passed since Johns death. Jill Tuck is nowhere to be seen or heard of, but the games have continued which means Mark is still running rampant.

It's late December when she sees Lynn again, clutching her daughters hand as they wait in line at a cafe near the heart of the city. It's a short walk across from the hotel and Amandas favorite place to go on her half hour break because the line is never long and the coffee is unendingly decent. Adam had told her to try their carrot muffins and, even though it creates something of a divergence in her usual routine, Amanda intends to do that that day.

Lynn turns around, eyes widening when she sees Amanda. Amanda tries to smile but it comes out more like a grimace, and Amanda shoves her hands into the pockets of the jacket she wears, yearns for one of the edibles she'll take during the break she'll get closer to four.

"Hi," Lynn greets. "It's been a while."

"Yeah," Amanda nods. "It has been. I think I owe you an apology."

"If you want to give me your number, we can organize something more cohesive? I--I assume you've got better things to do and I have to make sure that Corbett is back at school by one."

Amanda nods. Lynn ends up giving Amanda her card--one with her personal cell written on the back--and then she turns around and the two stop interacting.

Amanda gets herself a carrot muffin and an iced black coffee to-go that day, eats the muffin in the break room while she gives Amara a watered-down version of the interaction with Lynn and why it had shaken her up so much, tries not to think of Lynn or her silky and gorgeous black hair despite it.

-

She calls Lynn in the early oughts of January 2004. It's eight-thirty and she has thirty minutes until she has to be at work, which is a fifteen minute drive away, but the card with her number on it has practically burnt a mark into it's place on her night stand.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Amanda hates how feeble her voice sounds. "I just--I wanted to call and apologize for trying to kill you and threatening you with a gun and everything that happened in the warehouse. I am notoriously terrible at this kind of thing, and if you're angry at me I deserve it and am fine with that."

"I've been trying to figure out how I want to look at that," Lynn says. "The way I see it, you were manipulated by him. His death clearly devastated you and you have a lot of work to do in terms of undoing the ways he warped your psyche, but all things considered, you're forgiven. Are you free for coffee anytime soon?"

"I have work," Amanda felt a small piece of the guilt she had been dealing with lift itself off her shoulders. "But I'm free after! We can meet at the cafe across the road--Maries? I can meet you there for six."

"Perfect! They really know their way around a drip coffee and I'll need the caffeine anyway," Amanda hears some shuffling on Lynns end, pops a mint and moves to the kitchen, stealing a donut from the dozen Adam had likely bought in place of munchies on one of his rarer days off. "See you then!"

"Yeah," Amanda nods, and the call ends.

She grabs her car keys and the over-the-shoulder bag she uses in place of a purse and leaves the apartment without another word.

-

Lynn looks well. It's the first thing Amanda notices about her, the way that her hair has been let down from the bun she wears to work and the neutral expression on her face. She looks tired but that doesn't come as a shock and in the general sense, she looks really peaceful.

Amanda sits down across from her at the booth she's chosen. Lynns face spreads out into a grin when Amanda sits across her and Amanda has the decency to give her the same.

"How was work?" Lynn asks, voice even and sure and everything that Amanda is not.

"It was good," Amanda says. "I like the coworkers and the environment. Very easy to get used to."

It doesn't feel like small talk is the kind of thing either of them are really built for or meant to do, but there has to be a leeway into the deeper stuff so Amanda is fine to keep going with it, to go along with the small talk for as long as Lynn chooses to make her.

"Thats good," she says. "I ordered you an iced black coffee. Noticed you walked out with it the first time we met here. Also grabbed blueberry muffins--they're the best kind."

"I'm partial to a strawberry muffin from time to time," Amanda says. "But I can't argue. Blueberry muffins are pretty good."

Lynn nods. "So you work across the road?"

"As a full time receptionist," Amanda nods in turn. "Not really what I'd like to be doing but it's a start."

"Starts are good," Lynn says. Amanda kind of wants to go home, regrets agreeing to it at all, but at the same time, she knows that she needs it and that Lynn needs it for the sake of peace of mind.

"And you're not--the stuff that--the recent Jigsaw killings. That's not you?"

"No," Amanda says, voice earnest and a little desperate. "It's not me. I have no part in any of it anymore--that part of me died when John did."

Lynn nods like she believes Amanda. Amanda hopes that she does so sincerely.

"Okay," Lynn says. "Then thats a start, at least."

Amanda grins. A waitress brings their coffee and food, and Amandas gaze moves to her coffee as it's set in front of her.

She thanks the waitress absentmindedly, thanks Lynn for paying for the coffee and the muffins.

She knows it's not the greatest day, and she knows that it's unfair to expect their first--technically second--meeting to land on even footing.

But she also takes it exactly as it is. It's a start, and that's all that matters.

[xb0rder-7inex]

It literally disgusts me to think of crying over him after all that happened so sitting with the anxiety is my only option and sometimes unbearable. I worry I will fall back into that weakness but I will try my hardest not to let myself. I hate being borderline because I never know if feeling fine is a true recovery or just the cycle.

I'm not thinking about kms anymore and that's a huge improvement because I was suic*dal for six weeks. And I attempted and it failed and I felt the same way for two days afterwards for not being successful and then I just didn't feel that way anymore. I started looking at my life as something to grow into, and putting less focus on what I'm losing. I'm honestly feeling kind of weird about adding him back again after this. I might do it and just not react to him at all and see what he does. I feel like it's just going to be a lot of blocking right now and that he has no intentions of trying to see me. It is a lot of emotional abuse just like the last time.

I think if he ever wants me to love him again he's going to have to try harder. My circumstances are so different this time. I'm doing it all alone and literally have nothing left to lose lmao. Which kind of gives me an upper hand emotionally.

I'm scared but I get to build something that's mine. I really don't think I'll be blocked long but knowing I have bigger things to focus on and a routine to keep me occupied makes it okay anyway.

I'm just going to post here every time I have a feeling instead of wasting my energy splitting on him because it's not worth the reactive abuse.

I like that I'm doing it alone because I'm not being influenced by anything anybody is telling me. It's filtered directly into what he's showing me and I have no idea why he's having a tantrum and trying to be really emotionally controlling but I imagine it's because he's frustrated even though he's literally the one who put us in this position lol.

I'm going to keep documenting because court is months away and it isn't over until it's over lol. I'm not putting labels on him at all this time because I don't need to scare myself like that. He just has very toxic and abusive traits that he doesn't seem to be willing to change. And that's a yikes for me. Because how much fucking character development have I done in the last six months. Very steady therapy every single week, and I started a mood stabilizer this year. The fact that I'm not even reacting to him blocking me is a huge win.

I truly am just shocked that after everything he didn't change one single little bit at all. Truly taken aback. To know I lost everything and tried to kill myself and to not care is really gross.

I'm not even trauma bonded anymore I don't think. All I feel is anxiety and I think that's normal. I'm not even sad lol. I'm a little bit angry but not enough to split on him. Disappointed but not surprised? Yep.

The peace feels strange after a year and a half of chaos. It's the mood stabilizer for sure. If it's working for me like this to keep my emotions actually level for once then this drug is going to change my life because I can separate my real feelings from my borderline feelings 😭

If I can remain unreactive to him then I will have become the woman I've always wanted to fucking be. I've never ever been a woman who didn't react. I'd love to be that woman.

I'm still not overly optimistic three days after my attempt, my life is still pretty bland and boring, but for the first time maybe ever I feel like my emotions are moving in a straight line and that really excites me because I can trust a feeling that lasts.

There is a downside to that in that it manifested itself in darkness first because I had never felt so heavily depressed and that stable at the same time. So I knew I WAS ready to kms because that feeling didn't waver for six weeks. It's been two full days that I've felt neutral about this decision and I feel like I can probably trust this feeling too.

That day was obviously ridiculously traumatizing but it changed something in me. I am having some pretty intense PTSD flashbacks which are extremely uncomfortable so I try to repress it and Ive always been pretty good at deleting memories so it's working lol. I only remember it when I have flashbacks now which I know will subside eventually. I'm not ready to talk about it and I don't know that I ever will be I think that's something I probably want to keep to myself because it was so real, so so real. Just so impulsive but so so ready to go.

I also just remembered that that's the last time I reacted to him blocking me. The last time I reacted, I tried to kms, and then I got out of the hospital and I stopped reacting to him blocking me. I stopped swearing at him. I truly and genuinely stopped caring. And what an odd feeling. To have gone from loving someone so much like that to truly feeling nothing for them at all.

I'm going to continue to journal here as much as I need to in order to cope with the anxiety. I'm not even forcing myself to say that I don't love him or don't miss him. He is abusing me right now and all I can control is how I react to it.

My goal is calmness. To be neutral. To be unattached and mindful.

[medicinemane]

Honestly people should be more envious of my house, specifically because it has a pair of stained glass windows

I'd be willing to bet most mansions don't have stained glass windows, which is just evidence that my house is infinitely better than pretty much any mansion

[tenyacore]

Hi pretty baby, you got me hooked and now you cant get rid of me 😌

But next request,,, you know dadzawa 👀 well what if one day iida is watching sweet lil baby eri and they're out at like a store or something and iida has a crush on reader and they see her (or them! Inclusivity) and hes blushing and stuff so eri runs off to the reader and iida is panicking meanwhile eris complementing the reader and then iida finds them (whether they say they like each other is up to you, also sorry if this is like too detailed or something lol) (and I'd like this to be a long hc or fic pls but dont force yourself I wont get upset tehe ily)

corner store crush

-> iida tenya x gn!reader

hemlo i hope you enjoy :00 so i wanted eri to kind of know the reader prior so uhhhh lets say reader has a younger sibling that goes to school/daycare/wtvr with eri. basically eri knows reader's younger sibling so reader is a familiar and comforting face to her aaaa

warnings: none

word count: 1.2k words.

alternative title: iida tenya is bae

check out my masterlist for more of my works!!

iida wasn’t the type to mess up so bad like this. frantically searching what felt like the biggest store ever for eri, he now understood the true weight of his feelings for you- how the mere sight of you is enough to have him tripping and stumbling on his words. 

aizawa being not so used to this dad thing was in a bit of a predicament. typically, mirio would babysit, but he was off doing 3rd year activities at UA, which left aizawa stumped. he trusted mirio to take care of eri, and after getting punished for yet another incident midoriya wasn’t a good choice either. thinking about who would be good for keeping eri safe and being responsible, he landed on what felt like a sane, decent choice- iida tenya, 1a’s class rep. 

taking care of the teacher’s child wasn’t quite one of the responsibilities of the class rep but aizawa didn’t have much of an option. leaving eri to iida in a hurry, he was running off to do his hero work. the instant aizawa left, iida noticed eri’s eyes started to tear up. here he was, basically a complete stranger, trying to cheer this poor kid up. to any child, as much as iida is friendly, he’s also some big scary dude with sharp features and a tendency to flail his arms around and raise his voice.

that’s when he had an idea. he took her into the dorms where midoriya was cleaning away, not willing to receive another lecture on how his actions have consequences. “deku!” eri smiled and waved, running towards him, happy to see a familiar face. her excitedness only lasted a short while though, bakugo quick to holler obscenities at izuku, asking why he was the only one cleaning.

much to iida’s dismay, eri’s face went back to its previous frown as they sat in silence. another idea came to iida’s mind and soon he and eri were making their way to a store nearby, hoping to find some random teddy bear or a bunch of ice cream to make her feel better. eri, having seen that iida was midoriya’s friend, felt a bit more comfortable holding his hand as they crossed roads and as she jumped in puddles (which often wet iida’s probably expensive pants). 

reaching the convenience store, the pair sighed at the feeling of the air conditioner and iida felt it was safe enough within the building to let go of eri’s hand. turning around to grab a basket for whatever heaps of snacks and trinkets the two would buy, his eyes widened.

eri gasps and points “look, its y/n!” iida was probably 70 different shades of red and pink before looking away. “yes it’s y- y/n, but let’s not bother them. come, let’s find some stuff.” he motioned for eri to follow him and he walked away towards the frozen aisle, forgetting to check if the child was actually tagging along. 

well, she wasn’t. the blue haired boy only realized once eri hadn’t replied to whether she’d want a popsicle or ice cream cone, turning around to just see the colorful chip bags on the other side of the aisle. oh no. 

he looked around, still not seeing eri and he scolded himself for letting himself get distracted by... you.... oh. he cursed at himself, today not being the first time you had him making mistakes... nor was it one of the first ten times. it was an almost daily occurrence at this point, his feelings for you only deepening with each time he saw you, which was every single day, multiple times within the hours he’s awake (and asleep, if he’s being honest, it isn’t rare for you to show up in his dreams). 

the sound of what seemed like eri’s giggles snapped him out of this trance he found himself getting lost in and he quickly went to searching for the missing girl. thankfully, it seemed like she was still in the store. trying to avoid you as much as possible he searched every area you were in and... nothing. what hadn’t occurred to him is that eri knew you- and eri was holding your hand as you stood in the same place he was before he realized she was lost, figuring out which ice cream to get her.

walking towards the entrance of the store, he decided waiting there would be the better option out of either that OR freaking out and calling the police in a panic. he knew eventually she or (in a worst case scenario) her kidnapper would have to walk through those doors to leave. 

that’s when he sees you, in all your glory, and completely fails to realize you and eri were hand in hand in the frozen aisle as eri complimented how amazing and nice you were and how “the nice guy” with her really liked you. you were a bit confused, but grabbed her an ice cream either way and started unknowingly making your way towards him, still looking over at eri as she followed you. 

“there he is!” she points directly at iida, who you liked, staring right at you. attempting to look away, he saw eri and let out a relieved sigh. “there you are, eri! i was worried! what would i have done if i couldn’t find you? what would you have done if i had left and you were still here, lost?!” you chuckle and placed her hand in his so he could grab it. “no need for all those hypotheticals, she’s right here and perfectly fine” you ruffle her hair.

eri couldn’t help but notice the blush on both of your faces, and how you two couldn’t make eye contact for more than a second. with a mischievous smile on her face, she looked at the boy and tugged his shirt “iida, you should tell big (sis/brother)-" she paused before continuing her words as whispers in his ear "that you like them" she looked at you as she pulled away. “tell me what?” the three of you stared at each other in silence and iida thought of every possible, terrible, outcome for a split second before gulping.

“after i drop off eri, would you like to-” he hesitated, searching for the right words “spend some time together?” nodding eagerly, iida and eri’s trip to the store continued, you joining in. once eri was picked up and the two of you got some time alone, you shared some comfortable silence sitting outside of the dorms on the grass. 

“eri told me you really like me” you say quietly yet with a smile, not looking at him out of embarrassment. “perhaps.” he says coldly, worrying that if he put any amount of emotion into his words, he’d be even more embarrassed. “perhaps?” you question, before he clarifies, “yes, i do like you.” you cant help the grin that you make at his words, letting the upper half of your body fall, rolling over to face the ground as you bury your face in your arms.

“i like you too” you let out weakly, not trusting your voice to not give away how happy you are. feeling a nudge on your side, you look up, before being surprised by the big smile on his face. “im happy, then.” 

the two of you were a blushing mess, two fools finally realizing the other likes them just as much as they did. you had eri to thank for being smarter and much bolder than the two of you were.��

[pantstomatch]

I love your writing, and (the cliche, it burns) one day I'd like to publish too. But a lot of things have changed since the last time I was confident in trying to do this, and I wondered if you would talk about the process (getting an agent, that sort of thing) if you're comfortable and have the time. It's also cool if you privately respond, if you'd prefer, I'm just trying to figure out how to get started again? And so many tips are "publish on Amazon!"

Thank you!!!! Okay, so here’s the thing. I’m probably not the best person to ask about this, because I’m actually really bad at being published, but I can tell you some stuff that I’ve learned? That might be helpful? I ended up being long-winded, so (if tumblr works right here) everything is under the cut...

1. Querying!

So in general, querying sucks balls. Like… it’s probably the worst thing you’ll ever have to do. You’re gonna want to research what agents are looking for the kind of stuff you want to write or have written. Some are looking for certain genres or what they think is marketable, and you want to send your query to someone who’s open to what you have, or it’s a waste. Most likely the agency website or the agents “I’m looking for…” page or whatever will give you specific instructions on what to include in your query email - how the subject should be written, what they’re looking for, how many pages of your manuscript they want to see, how to attach it to the email and in what form, and if they want a synopsis of your novel. Some agents use Query Manager, which is basically a form you fill out and attach all the things they want, and you can go back in and edit it and it’s a nice way to keep track of your query. Next, they’re gonna (hopefully; some just never respond) either say no thank you very politely, or ask you for the full manuscript. Most of these agents will also give you a general timeline for a response, and if they’re open to a nudge from you or not. After that, they’ll either say no to the full manuscript, or welcome you aboard!  

Most places allow you to send multiple queries out for the same work, meaning they’re not “exclusive,” except within their own agency. If they ask for a full manuscript, but before they get back to you, another agent has snapped you up, they’ll want you to let them know so they don’t waste their time on it. Occasionally, if they want to see your full manuscript, they’ll ask for you to not send the full manuscript to someone else until they’re done, or for you to tell them if someone else is looking at the full manuscript. You can also change your mind!  You can email them and let them know you’ve decided to pull the novel out of consideration, maybe if you think it needs more editing.

I have never successfully queried. I found the whole thing demoralizing, and I did my first contract on my own, without an agent. This is something I don’t recommend because I had to figure out a lot of confusing shit on my own that I still don’t fully understand. And it also made me doubt my writing after the fact, because agents don’t give a shit if you’re already published, they’re focused solely on whatever you’re presenting them with. And then after that, I figured if I got another book out of my current editor, would I want to present that to the people who already didn’t like my writing? I have an agent for another project I’m working on, and the only reason I have her is because someone introduced us and told her I desperately needed help.

1a. So you found the agent(s) you think you like!

Other than the instructions/guidelines written out by the agency/agents that you’re interested in, you’re gonna need the most complete and fully edited version of your novel in hand. If they ask for your full manuscript, you absolutely should not say it’s not done. Make sure it’s finished, and preferably edited, before you send your query in. If they ask for a synopsis, hard pass. Ha ha ha, just kidding. No, really, arguably, this is going to be the hardest thing to write. A synopsis will suck your soul out of your body and make you weep blood. The only thing worse than querying is writing a synopsis for that query. I have never written a synopsis that I didn’t think was utter shit. I hate them.

Querytracker is a cool place to look up agents that you want to query and see how responsive (and nice) they are. It took me a little bit to figure out the abbreviations, though.

2. Pick your genre carefully

Unless you are a best selling author, they are never ever ever going to let you change genres. I mean, maybe if you wrote under a different name. Maybe. But they’ve bought your book based on how they think it will sell, and they’re going to want to sell you, too, and genre jumping is usually a no-go. This is, basically, one of the biggest things I hate, and one of the greatest things I love about fanfiction, that I can write whatever the fuck I feel like writing. So, you know, make sure you really really really want to write about what your first book is going to be about, because you’re going to be writing about that forever.  And I don’t mean just YA vs New Adult vs Adult, although you need to take that into account too. I mean if you’re writing about high school regular kids, you probably can’t write about supernatural high school kids. You can’t write about high school kids in space. You can only write about regular high school kids. So.. think sci -fi vs fantasy vs historical vs contemporary, etc.

3. I hope you don’t hate people!

Do you want to go to a bookstore and talk in front of a crowd? Do you want to go to cons and network with other authors? Do you want to call up publications and volunteer for interviews? Do you want to talk about your books with strangers?  Because I sure don’t.  Publishing houses do the bare minimum of publicity for you for your book. First book, they’ll probably help set up some store signings. Going forward, if you weren’t proactive the first time around, they’re probably not going to do anything. If you’ve got some really good advance reviews, they’ll do ads. They’ll probably do the rote social media posts. But basically, you’re going to have to advocate for your book. You’re going to have to create your own brand. You’re going to have to make swag and send it out, call up bookstores, post constantly about it on twitter, buddy up to other authors, go places where you can network. And I will tell you that all of that is my nightmare. I don’t want to do any of that. I don’t like meeting new people. I had several panic attacks leading up my book signing, and the book signing itself was pretty bad. I’m just… not good with people. And, honestly, at my age, I don’t want to be any better. All it does is give me stress and hives, and to get over that I’d really really have to want to do it.

4. Personal perks?

Editors!  I’ve worked with two awesome editors, and it’s amazing having someone to tell you how to fix things in a way that makes sense. By far, one of the only perks of being published for me. I absolutely don’t know for sure, but I always got the feeling that they expected more push back from me with their suggestions, but nope. I was open to everything, and that’s probably why the books worked so well, because editors absolutely know what they’re doing and only want what’s best for the book.

Holding a solid book of my work!  Always awesome to hold that first book in your hands, with the beautiful cover work and everything. The fact that other people can read it and know it was me who wrote those words only counters that by about a half.  

Money! Advances vary drastically, but, listen, the money kind of made the panic attacks worth it. A little.

5. Advances and royalties

The things I’ve read about advances is that too little, and you might think they have less confidence in you, and too much and you’re panicking about selling, because if you don’t earn out your advance, there’s a chance they won’t want to invest in you in the future. Generally, the way they work is they offer you a contract with the amount they are willing to “advance” you. This is basically saying, we think this book will give us this amount of money, and this is your share of that amount of money. You earn this out with royalties. When you sign the contract, you will get a certain amount of money, usually half of your offered advance. When you deliver the finished manuscript, after your editor and you have gone over it and it’s been approved, you’ll get the other half. A two book deal would be split into 4 parts, and you’d get the first 2 parts for signing the contract (1/4th for each book), the next part for the first finished manuscript, and then the last part for the second finished manuscript, generally after the first book is already published. After that, you won’t see any money until your royalties reach the amount they already paid you in advance. Unless otherwise negotiated, you’d get a royalty check twice a year.  Your earnings from January to July would be sent to you in October, and your earnings for July to December would be sent to you in April. Since any books sold to bookstores and online stores can be returned to the publisher if unsold, they will usually “hold back” a certain amount at first, to make sure you’re really earning that royalty. Royalty statements themselves are a hot mess and I’ve never been able to read them, which is also a good reason to have an agent. An agent will get your money sent to them, make sure it’s the correct amount, take their cut, and then send you a check from them.

6. Self publishing

Okay, I know nothing about self publishing, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it if you have the right support system (ie editors). If you’re going to have to do a lot of the marketing yourself anyway, I don’t see how this is much different. Biggest thing would be the upfront cost, and making sure you make that cost worth it.  Independent author S Usher Evans has some good advice for self publishing - Sush’s worked very hard at it, and started her own publishing company. Also, @qwanderer might be a good resource, I think they use Lulu, which is a really cool self publishing site.

Uhhhh, so that’s a lot of info and also not a lot of info, so please feel free to ask me anything else, and I really hope I haven’t made this harder for you to get started ha ha ha. I think the best thing to do is to figure out what you want to write and write it and just… go from there. If you really love what you have, someone else is going to love it, too.

And if anyone’s had a different experience or thinks I got something wrong or has more/better advice for @heyninja, let me know!

[bangtanreadingcorner]

my saving grace • jung hoseok

plot – you rescue hoseok from the guys beating on him, never thinking that anything more would come from it.

genre – streetdancer!hoseok

words – 6.1K

You and your friend, Jimin, were walking home from work - both of you working as a waitress and waiter at a diner a few blocks away - when you walked past an alley and heard the tell tale sound of someone getting their ass kicked. You ignored it, this wasn't the best part of the city, there was always someone getting the short end of the stick somewhere around here.

"Hey, Y/N, looks like trouble." Jimin whispered, stopping in the middle of the alley, looking intently while you didn't even glance at it.

You grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the scene, "Hate to break it to you, sweetie, but this world is full of trouble."

"Come on," Jimin whined, tugging at your arm backwards. "It's three against one and the dude is getting his ass kicked. It's not fair, you have to help him."

You rolled your eyes, wondering how you ever made friends with this big hearted idiot. Really, Jimin was to soft and good for this world. You gave him a look, "If it bother's you that much, why don't you go do something about it?"

He glowered at you and you stared back unflinchingly as he said, "Because unlike you, I can't take on seven people at the same time."

"That was once and I was pissed." You reminded him pointedly. "And I got a sprained wrist and two broken ribs for my wonderful heroics."

"Good news then, this time it's just three." He said cheerily. When you still wouldn't budge, he pulled the ultimate weapon. "Please."

You sighed, knowing the battle is lost. You can't say no to Jimin's puppy eyes. "Jesus Christ, fine, if it will get you off my ass."

Jimin, the idiot, grinned widely. "Yes!"

You scoffed, walking back to the alley. At the entrance, you stopped Jimin and handed him your backpack. "Hold this and stay here. If I catch a glimpse of you in there, I'm leaving his sorry ass."

"Okay." Jimin nodded, taking your bag and clutching it tightly.

You entered the alley, taking in everything that was in the alley that could help you fight and the three guys. They were all at least three times your size. You whistled loudly, to catch their attention and turn it from the guy to you. They weren't beating him anymore, but they could decide to start again at any moment.

It worked, they turned around and faced you, looking a little confused. You decided to use that to your advangtage and to move quickly. You ran at them, jumping on one of the crates you spotted earlier and using it to propel yourself through the air, kicking the nearest guy in the face, full force. You landed on your feet and he landed on his knees, blood pouring from his nose. Quickly you landed a punch to his already broken nose, knocking him on his back. You weren't sure if he was unconsious though.

The other two snapped out of their stunned stupors and charged at you. You dodged them, grabbing the one's arm and twisting it behind his back, pulling it back with enough strength to dislocate it, a pained shriek leaving his mouth. The last guy aimed a sloppy punch that you dodged easily, snickering. You aimed a harsh kick to his balls, watching in vague amusement as he doubled over in pain. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the one who's shoulder you dislocated coming at you again, but he was clearly off balance from the pain.

From there on, it was almost laughably easy to knock them unconsious.

You looked at the three unconsious men - and one half-consious man - and almost felt disappointed that there wasn't more of a challenge, more of a fight to it. You scoffed, "And my mother wonders why I'm still single."

You stepped forward and crouched next to the guy who had his ass kicked, his eyes were swollen and his lip busted. His nose looked realtively okay, but you couldn't tell if he had other injuries. "Hey, you a retard yet?"

The guy groaned, lightly shaking his head and groaning again. You took it as a no.

You heard footsteps coming up behind you and your body tensed for a moment, ready to fight again, but then you recognised the soft footfalls of you best friends. You sighed, "Jimin, didn't I tell you to stay out of here?"

"I figured you meant until the fighting was over." He retorted easily, also crouching next to the guy and besides you.

You closed your eyes, pulled for strength and then opened your eyes, pushing yourself upright. "Okay, so I helped him, time to go."

Jimin scrambled to his feet and pulled on you arm to stop you from walk him away. "We can't just leave him here."

"What do you want to do? Take him back home with us?" You asked, not meaning it at all, more sarcastic than anything. Then you saw the look on Jimin's face.

"Well . . ." He trailed off with a hopeful smile.

You gaped at him, then shook your head. "Jesus, fuck, Jimin, no. You can't be serious."

"But what if we take him to the hosipital and they go after him again?" Jimin asked, worrying his bottom lip, glancing back at the bloody guy.

You groaned, feeling the urge to hit your head against the wall. "You're gonna be the death of me, Park Jimin."

Jimin perked up, eyes brightening. "Is that a yes?"

You sighed in resignation, "Yeah."

* * *

"What happened to you three?" Daejoon asked as he looked at the idiots that were supposed to take out his competition.

"We were taken out." The one said, but that much was obvious from how they looked.

"By who?" Daejoon asked, furious because who would dare take out people related to them?

"A girl." Another one muttered shamefully. "But she's was really good, scary good actually."

"A girl?" Daejoon'd brother, Sejoon, who had been lounging on the out perked up at this. "About 5'4, fast as lighting and just as lethal?"

"Yeah." One of the three nodded.

Sejoon leaped from the couch, started pacing. "Jesus Christ, and you say that she protected him? The guy you were supposed to take out?"

"We asked around and people said she and some other dude took took him with them. We can find them if you want." Another one explained.

"Another dude?" Daejoon's brother paled. "Okay, fuck, no. Under no circumstances are you allowed to go anywhere near where she lives." He turned to his brother. "Daejoon, you need to stay far away from that Hoseok guy."

Daejoon scoffed, "What, because of some girl?"

"She is not just some girl, okay? And that guy she was with? I'd bet my life it was Park Jimin. And if that's true, then you need to stay even further away from her."

"What, you gonna tell me he's some badass too?" Daejoon scoffed at his brother.

"No, he's harmless." Sejoon said, tense. "But her? The girl? She's not badass, she's dangerous."

* * *

The next morning, you woke up with an empty space besides you which was weird, because you gave Beaten-Up Dude Jimin's bed to sleep on after your best friend said that you couldn't let him sleep on the couch with those raw bruises. You told him that he would be sacrificing his own bed, because you aren't letting a stranger sleep in yours. Jimin didn't push it because you already did a fuckton of shit for him that night.

You almost flew out of bed, worried about Jimin, and when you pulled open the door, your mouth fell open. Because there was Jimin and Beaten-Up Dude, sitting on your couch and laughing. Jimin noticed you first and waved.

"Good morning." He chirped and you just kept on staring, remembering to close your mouth. He turned to Beaten-Up Dude, who looked a little worse this morning but not as much as you thought he would have. Probably because you cleaned up his bruises the previous night. "That's my best friend, Y/N, she's not much of a talker in the mornings, or in general really, so don't feel insulted if she doesn't answer you. It's not personal, it's just who she is." Jimin looked at you with mirth in his eyes.

So, you did the mature, grown up thing. You flipped him a middle finger and said with a fake smile, "Fuck off." before heading to the bathroom, your bladder suddenly reminding you that it was full after a night's sleep.

After finishing your morning routine, you left the bathroom and found two sets of eyes looking at you. You raised your eyebrows, "What?"

"Hoseok, that's his name by the way, was just telling me why those guys were beating him up. He's a street dancer and made it into the finals of a really big underground competition, and his rival was the one who sent those guy's after him, to take him out, but then you saved him." Jimin told you excitedly.

"I have a feeling I'm not gonna like were this is headed." You noted matter of factly.

"The prize money is 50 million won," This time it was Hoseok who talked to you and you turned to him.

You looked at him in disbelief, more than a little skeptical. "There can not be that much money in street dancing."

"There isn't, usually." Hoseok told you. "But this a competition that only happens one every five years and it's the best against the best. My offer is, if you can protect me until the finals, I'll split it with you in half."

"Definitely don't like where this is headed." You declared.

"It's not gonna be a 24/7 thing, just like, go with me to places during the day and then on the day of the competition you need to come with me."

"First of all, I already have a job. Second of all, it's illegal. Third of all, I'm not a bodyguard." You told the both of them, trying to ignore the two sets of hopeful eyes were watching you. Why Jimin's was working, you got, but why Hoseok's was working, you had no idea. The guy's eyes were swollen, for fuck sakes!

"Which is why I'm willing to give you half the prize money. Right now it's not even about the money for me anymore. It's about beating Daejoon's ass. He thinks he can get away with anything." Hoseok said, voice turning angry and indignant. The name Daejoon was vaguely familiar but you didn't worry about it. If it was really important, you would have remembered immediately.

"And if you don't win?" You asked, raising a brow.

Hoseok scoffed, "You really think they would beat me up like this if they thought that idiot has a chance of winning?"

"Fair point." You conceded, crossing your arms over you chest.

"So, you'll do it?" He asked, eyes lighting up hopefully.

"Depends." You said after a moment of contemplating in silence.

"On what?" He asked, frowning ever so slightly, then wincing because the movement pulled at his bruised eyes.

"When's the competition?"

"In three weeks, twenty-one days exactly. I won the semi-finals earlier tonight."

"Even if I say yes and follow you around during the day for the next two weeks, you still have the problem of nights." You pointed out. "They could attack you in your apartment or even when you feel like going to the corner store because you're craving a chocolate or something in the middle of the night."

Jimin cleared his throat, giving you a sweet, sweet smile and you immediately knew what was coming. "I was thinking that he could stay here until the competition."

"Of course you did." You deadpanned. "Any other wonderful ideas that I should be aware of?" Jimin pursed his lips, actually thinking about it, and you glared at him.

Finally, he shook his head. "Not that I can think of."

"Great." You muttered sarcastically. You looked at Hoseok, who's hopeful and desperate eyes tugged at your heartstrings violently. You sighed in resignation. "Fine, but no dancing until the swelling of your eyes go down."

"Uh," Hoseok looked a little stricken. "How long's that gonna take?"

"No more thank two or three days." You answered.

"Okay." He nodded, lips that were no longer swelled, pulling up into a heart shaped smile that had your cheeks heating up.

"So, you're doing it?" Jimin asked, repeating Hoseok's question. You hummed in confirmation, hands flying up to cover your ears when the two let out identical squeals of happiness.

* * *

You came to the realisation that Hoseok was attractive four days after meeting him. The swelling in his eyes was completely gone by day three and on day four, he used a bit of concealer to hide the bruised skin. And when you looked at him, really looked at him, you realised that he was hot. You wouldn't do anything though, it's always been easy for you to ignore physical attraction to someone.

"How did you get your boss to give you time off?" Hoseok asked as you two were walking in the streets, your destination currently unknown.

"I told him it was only for three weeks, asked really nicely, even used the fact that I've never taken a sick day in two years, and Jimin promised to help out until he gets a temp." You answered with a slight shrug, a little distracted by his sunny grin. He was tapping his fingers against his thigh, body moving lightly the beat. "So where do you practice?"

Hoseok lit up at the question, "There's this warehouse, owned my one of my friends, where I practice. It's where we're headed right now."

You made an 'ah' sound of realisation, having wondered where Hoseok was taking you two but not being bothered enough to ask him. There was, weirdly enough, already trust between you. "Do they dance too?"

Hoseok put on a thinking face that you found adorable and had to turn away so you wouldn't smile like an idiot. "Uh, just Taehyung. And Jeongguk, sometimes. He's very shy."

You frowned a little, remembering that he had spoken about a Namjoon the previous evening. "Exactly how many of you are there?"

"Including me? Six. You and Jimin will make for eight." He looked at you, that smile still locked on his face.

"Oh, we're friends now?" You raised a brow at him.

Hoseok's smile faltered, and your stomach twisted. You were about to tell him that your were just teasing, that you are friends, when the smile returned tenfold and he said, "You saved my ass and I'm crashing on your couch, if that doesn't make us friends, then I don't know what will."

"Yeah, okay." You smiled slightly at the look he gave you.

"You have a nice smile, you should do it more often." He said matter-of-factly and you rolled your eyes, desperately hoping your cheeks don't get noticeably red.

You chose to change the subject instead, "How come you don't ask them for help? Your friends, I mean."

"I just, I don't want to burden them, you know? We all have our problems and I don't want to make their lives worse."

"So, you decide to up end my life instead?" You said, voice light.

"You're getting paid, aren't you?" Hoseok said, words more teasing than anything else, but it set something off inside you.

The next moment Hoseok found himself with his back pressed against a wall, you all up in his personal space, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Let's get one thing straight, right now: I'm not doing this for the money. Sure, it's a nice bonus but that's not why I said yes and if you piss me off, I will leave."

"Okay, sorry. I didn't mean anything by it." He said, eyes wide and a hint of fear in them. It made you take a step back, something inside of you deeply hurt by the fact that Hoseok is afraid of you and there was no one but yourself to blame.

"Just forget it." You muttered, willing the tightness around your heart to go away.

"Why did you decide to help me?" Hoseok asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

Because I couldn't say no to you and it scares the fuck out of me, you thought to yourself.

"Jimin." You answered instead, which wasn't a lie either, it just wasn't the whole truth either.

***

"Does she hate me?" Hoseok asked Jimin that night after they had all eaten dinner and you disappeared into your room, saying you are tired and wanted to sleep.

"She would never help you if she hated you, no matter how much I pest her." Jimin answered, tilting his head at the dancer. "Why do you ask?"

"I think I might have done something to make her hate me." Hoseok admitted, face worried instead of the usual cheery aura he had.

Jimin snorted in disbelief, "That's highly improbable. Y/N doesn't hate easily."

"Today we were talking and she said something about helping me and I told her she was getting paid and I think I really pissed her off." Hoseok explained, hoping desperately that Jimin was right.

Realisation filled Jimin's face and he gave Hoseok a gentle smile. "Good news is, she doesn't hate you. Bad news is, she is pissed." When he saw the panicked look on Hoseok's face, he rushed to add. "But not at you. Really. It's just the memories that come with what you said."

"What memories?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. All I can tell you is that Y/N swore on her life that she would never use her fighting skills for money ever again, and even if that's not the reason she said yes, she's doing it anyway." Jimin told him, looking more than a little guilty. "It's her business and her decision to tell you the rest if she wants."

"No, that's okay. I understand." Hoseok gave Jimin a bright grin, but he was still worried that he damaged something between him and you.

* * *

"I'm sorry." Hoseok blurted out the next morning as you two started your trek to the warehouse. It was about a twenty five minute walk and now five minutes had passed in complete silence before he broke.

You frowned at him, "About what?"

"About yesterday, when you got so angry." He explained nervously.

"Hoseok," You started with a sigh. "It's not your fault, okay? It's my own issues. Your words just triggered some nasty memories, but it's not your fault and I'm not mad at you."

Hoseok's grin was blinding and you couldn't help but give him a small smile back. "Good, good, that's really good. And if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here."

Your smile grew a little wider, stomach fluttering. "Thanks, Hoseok."

The rest if the walk was spent with Hoseok chattering next to you about anything and everything, dancing to some beat in his head every now and again. Arriving at the warehouse, you saw that unlike the previous day, today there was people. From Hoseok's relaxed posture and excited eyes, you guessed it must be his friends.

And so you finally met Seokjin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Taehyung and Jeongguk. Hoseok stood next to you, "And this is Y/N, she's gonna protect me from Daejoon until the finals."

"Like he actually has the balls to do something himself." Yoongi scoffed. "He'll send someone after you again."

"And I'll stop them. Again." You said, speaking up for the first time. Yoongi looked at you, a little surprised, then finally nodded his head.

Watching Hoseok dance, you realised, was something out of this world. He was graceful, strong and powerful but at the same time he looked kind of delicate and beautiful. It was mesmerizing, watching as his body moved to music. You quickly figured out his routine - warm up to two songs, one slow paced and one fast paced, then he started practicing for the competition for hours - long enough for you to loose track of time as you watch him dance, and then he warmed down by stretching.

"You're good." You complimented him as you walked home later that evening. "Really good. I can understand why your competition is scared of losing."

Hoseok's flushed, "Thank you."

"Just telling the truth." You shrugged.

"Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer." Hoseok looked nervous, really nervous and you didn't understand why. What was he about to ask you?

"Sure." You nodded hesitant.

"Where did you learn how to fight?" He blurted.

"That's what you wanted to ask?" You chuckled. "I thought it was like for a kidney or something, with how nervous you were."

"Well, you are a very private person, okay?" Hoseok exclaimed and you snickered. "I thought you might bite my head off for asking."

"Nah, I don't bite heads of for asking questions. I bite heads off when people can't take no for an answer or fuck off, depending on my mood." You told him with a slight smirk. "And to answer your question, my mom and dad used to own a taekwondo studio. They were both Master's and they taught me."

"Wow, that's great. Do they still have the studio? Maybe I'll sign up for some classes after this is all over." He rambled excitedly.

Your face fell and Hoseok saw, but it was too late to take back his words. "No, they don't."

Hoseok hesitated, not wanting to make yo sadder that you already seemed. "Can I asked what happened?"

"My dad got sick, lung cancer, and he died when I was seventeen. My mom couldn't do it alone, so I tried to help but in the end it didn't work out and we lost the studio." You answered him, looking at your feet.

"I'm so sorry." Hoseok said, voice truly and sincerely apologetic.

"It's not your fault. Sometimes bad things just happen." You shrugged, still looking at the pavement.

"Yeah, I know, but it doesn't make it any easier."

"No, it doesn't." You agreed.

* * *

The rest of the time until the competition passed quickly. Too quickly if someone were too ask you, but Hoseok was excited. So was Jimin and all of Hoseok's friends, who would all be there to watch as Hoseok and Daejoon compete for the winning title and the prize money.

"Is this like a dressing room or something?" You asked Hoseok with a snicker as you walked into the room. You were in one of the backrooms of a club that the finals would take place in. The two of you had grown much closer in the last three weeks and it terrified you as much as it excited you. You didn't know what would happen after tonight, but you hoped that Hoseok would still be in your life.

"Yeah, technically, but for me it's just a waiting room."

You hopped on the dressing table looking at Hoseok curiously. "So, how do they decide who wins these things?"

"There's three judges and we get a score out of ten. The one with the highest score wins."

You let out a laugh of disbelief. "It sounds so normal."

"It kind of is." Hoseok nodded with a bright, if somewhat nervous smile.

"It kind of is illegal." You pointed out teasingly.

"Only if we get caught." He retorted and you snorted, nodding your head in agreement.

"You ready?" You asked Hoseok, looking at him with curious eyes and a fondness in your heart that's just grown stronger with each passing day.

"Yes, I am." He answered confidently.

The door to the room opened and in came a panicked Namjoon. "Y/N, trouble."

You turned to him, body tensed and ready for a fight but confused too. "I don't understand, Hoseok's right here with me."

"It's Jimin, some guy-" And you didn't here the rest of what Namjoon said because you were already out the door, running to where you left Jimin. You were vaguely aware of Hoseok and Namjoon following you but you didn't pay them any attention, to worried about getting to Jimin, your best friend, your brother in all but blood.

When you finally rounded the corner into the large room where Hoseok and Daejoon would dance, your blood boiling when you saw who it was. An all to familiar and definitely unwelcome face. Jimin, who was luckily pushed behind Jeongguk and Seokjin and neither look scared to start a fight, looked absolutely terrified.

"Taemin." You called, voice icy cold and loud enough to catch his attention. He turned to you, eyes widening a fraction. "Haven't learnt your lesson yet?" You asked, raising a brow and walking closer and closer to him.

"Relax, no need to be so hostile. I just came to say hi." He let his hands up in defence, smirk playing on the corners of his lips.

"That was not the agreement." You all but snarled at him, hands clenching into fists.

"I didn't know you'd be here, that's just pure coincidence." He shrugged a tad to smug and your fuse blew. You quickly knocked him to his knees and gripped him by the throat, leaning down.

"I believe I told you that if I ever see you within ten feet of Jimin again, I'll kill you with my bare hands." You told him with a sickeningly sweet smile and you could hear three guns being pulled and aimed at you. You didn't flinch, knowing exactly where each gunman was standing and how to take them out, and how to use Taemin as a body shield if one of them gets trigger happy.

"Let him go." It was Jimin, voice pleading but you didn't listen, to angry to as images of Jimin's bruised body filled your mind, how you took care of him, how you put him back together again, how you nearly drowned in guilt because it was all your fault.

"Let him go, this isn't you." This time the voice was accompanied by a hand on your shoulder, but it wasn't Jimin's. It was Hoseok's. His other hand reached out to wrap around the wrist of the hand that was holding Taemin's neck as he crouched next to you. He gently tugged at your hand and you let go. He grabbed both your hands in his and you looked at him, mind racing as he pulled you upright.

Why did you let go? Why did you feel the anger die down inside of you? Why was Hoseok's touch relaxing you instead of irritating you like it normally did when someone touched you while angry. Not even Jimin could do that. You shook your head to clear it, you'd think about it later. (Besides, you already had some idea, if the feelings you had towards Hoseok was any indication.)

You looked at Taemin aiming a deadly glare his way, "I'll be paying your boss a visit tomorrow."

"That won't be necessary, I'm right here." You whipped around and directed your glare at the other familiar face. "My apologies, I didn't think Taemin would be anything less than a gentleman."

You scoffed at Sejoon, "We're talking about the same Taemin, right?"

"Again, my apologies."

"I don't want your apologies, just make sure it doesn't happen again. We've had peace for two years now. I'm sure you'd hate for something to ruin that." You gave him a cold glare.

"Yes, I would." Sejoon gave you a smile that would have been charming in another world. "Enough time has already been wasted, what do you say we don't waist anymore and get this show on the road?"

"Keep your bitch on a leash." You warned Sejoon with a glance in Taemin's direction. You grabbed Jimin's hand and then you walked away, back to the room where Hoseok was previously waiting.

"You know that guy?" Hoseok asked once the door was shut, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

You hugged Jimin tightly, rubbing a hand over his back as he held on tighter. You tried to meet Hoseok's eyes over Jimin's shoulders, standing on your tiptoes. "Yeah, why?"

"That's Daejoon's brother. He's the reason why the little brat thinks he can do whatever he wants."

"I thought the name rang a bell." You muttered to yourself then looked at Hoseok again. "Not tonight he won't."

"You should very sure of that." Hoseok noted as Jimin let go of you.

"That's because I am." You shrugged, turning your attention to the dancer.

"They're a gang." Hoseok blurted after a moments silence. You raised an eyebrow, silently asking him to go on. "Are you part of their gang? Is that why he won't do anything? As a favour?"

"No, I'm not in a gang, I've never been in a gang and I never will be in a gang. Sejoon will keep both Taemin and his brother on two very tight metaphorical leashes unless he wants to start a war with me again."

Hoseok frowned, caught off guard by the words. "Wait, what do you mean start a war again?"

"It's a long story that we don't have time for right now." You sighed and as a thought came to mind, you smirked slightly at him. "Hey, if you win, I'll tell you the whole story."

"Okay." Hoseok nodded, eyes locking with yours. "And dinner."

"Huh?"

"If I win, then you have to tell me the story and buy me dinner." Hoseok said, swallowing thickly.

"Okay fine." You smiled, heart beating way to fast, cheeks flaming hot. With a grin, Hoseok left the room and you saw Jimin smirking out of the corner of your eyes. "Don't even."

"I didn't say anything." He held up his hands in defeat.

"You were thinking it, it's annoying."

Jimin hummed, a noncommittal sound. He looked at you seriously. "Are you really gonna tell him everything?"

"Yeah," You gave him a slight smile that he matched with a bright one "I really am."

"I'm so happy for you." He gushed.

"Yeah, yeah, settle down." You said with flaming cheeks.

***

"You know, then I said I want you to buy me dinner, I didn't exactly mean nooodles and chicken skewers." Hoseok said with a light laugh later that night. He won, of course he did. You weren't even surprised.

"Why?" You frowned a little. "Did you want to go somewhere else?"

Hoseok shook his head, hesitating a little. "No, I just, I meant it more along the lines of a dinner date." Hoseok said, voice growing less confident and softer with each word he spoke.

"Oh." You said, realisation spreading through you as you looked at shy smile on Hoseok's face. Finally you spoke, shy smile matching Hoseok's and your heart beating just a bit faster. "Well, this can still be a date, right? I mean, it's about the person you're with and not the place."

Hoseok's beam returned as he happily exclaimed, "Yes, it is."

You two were near a river and bought food from a stall that was near a picnic area, so you two sat down at a picnic table, eating your dinner and talking about nothing in particular, just enjoying each other's company.

"You still owe me a story." Hoseok said after dinner as you were walking around aimlessly along the side of the river.

"It's really not that glamourous, so if you're disappointed, it's your own fault." You paused for a second, thinking where to start. "Right, well, I guess it all started two years ago, when Jimin and I were almost mugged by two idiots. I quickly took them both out and apparently Taemin saw me. From then on, he tried to recruit me into the gang. At first, he offered me ridiculous amounts of money, which didn't work. He did everything he could, went to my work, figured out my phone number, basically like stalking me. And then one day, he found out where me and Jimin lived. And he kidnapped Jimin." Your breath faltered here and tears gathered in your eyes.

Hoseok's arms was around you in a second, wrapping around to tightly. You melted into his embrace, calming down as he held you. "You don't have to tell me anything else."

You pulled away, shaking your head. "No, no, I want too." You took a deep breath and then took Hoseok's hands holding onto them tightly, drawing strength from his presence. "I didn't know, at first, that it was Taemin who took Jimin. It was only after five days of searching and nearly going crazy, that he told me I had one of two choices: join the gang and get Jimin back or don't join and Jimin dies. I picked choice number three."

"I thought there was only two choices." Hoseok said, looking a little confused.

"There was, I made my own choice. I declared war. Not just on Taemin, but on the gang. I investigated and I didn't let the law stop me like the police. I burnt down warehouses with drugs and guns, called in anonymous tips about their human trafficking safe houses. See, I knew that if the gang started feeling the loses because of what Taemin did, they'd do something about it. And I was right. It worked."

"How did you know they wouldn't just kill Jimin?"

"Because they couldn't catch me, and believe me, they tried. And if they couldn't catch me, they couldn't stop me. Which means unless they give me what I wanted, I wouldn't have stopped until I ruined their whole empire. Taemin called me one day, after two whole fucking months of holding Jimin, he said he'd give me Jimin back if I went to see his boss. I wasn't stupid, of course. So, I made a USB stick with all of the locations and gang members and gave it to my neighbour. Said if I wasn't back by the next morning that she should sent a copy to the police and a copy to the media. Luckily, it wasn't necessary. Sejoon handed Jimin over to me and we both agreed that as long as Taemin stayed away from me and Jimin, I'd leave the gang in peace. I also told Sejoon that one day I'd get my revenge for what he did to Jimin, because Hoseok, when I got Jimin back, h-he," Your breath caught in your throat, a sob making you choke. "He was beaten and broken, so badly. It took me weeks to get him to talk, months to go outside without me and he still looks over his shoulder to this day when he's alone."

Hoseok hugged you again and you cried, softly and not making a sound. When you were done, you pulled away and sniffled, giving him a watery smile. "Sorry I got snot on your shirt."

"It's okay, I can wash it again." He waved you off.

You took a deep breath, wiping your face clean with the sleeve of your shirt. "So, that's it. That's the story."

"Did you ever go after Taemin?" He asked, hesitantly.

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot. I did, it took me five months because Jimin didn't want to be alone, but I did. I put him in a hospital bed with the warning to stay away from Jimin or I'll kill him." You told Hoseok. "I almost did kill him."

Hoseok looked at you, shocked. "Now I understand why you are so overprotective of Jimin."

"Yeah." You nodded, voice trailing off and you looked around you. There was a bench not to far from you two and you walked to it, taking a seat. "See, Hoseok, I'm not a good person. I've done things I'm not proud off and if someone I care about is in danger again, I'll do those things without hesitating all over again. Now, I'm not gonna lie, I like you and I trust you, which is why I told you the truth now. I didn't want this to come between us later on. I need you to know who I am right now, before we can go any further."

"You're wrong, you know." Hoseok said, taking a seat next to you.

"About what?"

"You are a good person. You're a good person who had something terrible happen to you and then you did bad things to make it right. Does it make what you did right? No. Does it make you a bad person? No." Hoseok took your hand, lacing your fingers. "I like who you are and I want to get to know you even better. I want to you know favourite song, your favourite colour, you favourite food - I want to know everything."

You squeezed his hand, smiling as your eyes blurred a bit. You giggled out of happiness, "I don't have a favourite song, there's to many good ones, my favoured colour is turquoise and my favourite food is lasagna." You smiled at him, warm and wide. "Your turn."

Hoseok told you as you told him. Later, you leaned on his shoulder as you two kept telling each other all of your favourite things. Some your would remember, some you would forget, but as you sat through the night and watched the sunrise, you knew there would be enough time for you to discover it all.

the end.

[jtgunner]

I finally beat Final Fantasy VII.

I did it! I finished my playthrough of FF7! Some late game, possibly spoilery stuff, as well as some closing thoughts below the cut.

Welp! There's Jenova! She would probably be scarier if I wasn't so overleveled. I wanted to fight the Emerald and Ruby Weapons, which is why I grinded before taking on the Northern Cave, but they were too hard, and I just wanted to finish this game.

Found Holy, and the big bad man himself. Time to kick his anime bishie ass.

Sephiroth got ugly.

But I think it's neat how the party has to split into three groups to take on his parts.

Oh, shit! It's Safer Sephiroth.

I was pretty hyped at this point, especially after the first few notes of "One-Winged Angel" started playing. I knew about Safer Sephiroth, and I've heard "One-Winged Angel" many times. But to actually see this boss and hear the song in-game really hits differently. It was really cool.

But after that fight, Cloud says that Sephiroth is still around, and then he freaks the fuck out!

(Apologies for the quality of pics from here on out. The PS4 in-game capture disabled itself for this ending sequence, so I had to snap these pics with my phone.)

Now Cloud has to fight a half-naked Sephiroth in what I'm guessing is in his own mind.

Of course, when I say "fight", I mean deliver the finishing blow via Omnislash.

So Sephiroth is defeated, and Holy destroys Meteor with the help of the Lifestream, as shown in this really cool FMV sequence.

Then 500 years later, an older Red XIII and his cubs look at a ruined Midgar. Nature is healing.

Overall, this game is great. I can see why it's such a beloved classic. Dunno what took me so long to finally play this game, but I'm glad I took the plunge and just played through it. It's such a wonderful experience, with a great story and memorable characters.

One of the main reasons why I played through this game was so I could play Final Fantasy VII Remake, which I hear actually has some plot changes and might not end up following the original story exactly. I had even thought about only playing a small part of the game and just going straight into Remake. But I'm glad I saw this game through to the end. It legitimately is a unique game, and has definitely become one of my favorites.

I think this is the first FF game I've ever beaten! The only other one I've played was Final Fantasy X, and I've never beaten that one (I've gotten close, but I could never beat Braska's Final Aeon.)

But FF7 is great. I'd be willing to go through this game again in the future. Maybe do the stuff I didn't do this time around like Chocobo breeding and fighting the Weapons.

[ellanainthetardis]

Hi! I wanted to start by saying I adore your writing and hayffie characterizations. I spent a solid 2 weeks devouring your stories and it was glorious. Do you still take prompts? I'd love an AU where Chaff survives, and him and Effie become friends

What better place to become friends than a cell? XD [X]

Newfound Friends

Chaff woke to a niceview of the grey ceiling.

Grey everything, really.

He took a minute to…take stock. His ribs were still hurting, no surprise there. He didn’t like thewheezing sound one bit. He knew quite a few were cracked. No punctured lungthough. No�� He wasn’t that lucky and the Peacekeepers weren’t that careless.His left eye wouldn’t open and he figured it had finally swollen shut. Hisbottom lip was split and he could still taste blood on his tongue. His left armwas in agony and that didn’t bear thinking over. They hadmeticulously flayed it from stump to shoulder.

The various other bruises and cuts weren’tlife-threatening. At least he didn’t think so.

He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or notto have managed to get the upper hand on Brutus. If Two’s victor had killedhim… On the bright side he wouldn’t be there getting tortured to an inch of hissanity to protect information he really wishedhe didn’t have. One the less positive side… He wouldn’t be there at all.

Being alive trumped being dead. Even if thatmeant enduring pain.

He had known what he was getting into when hehad signed in the rebellion…

Still… It didn’t make it any easier. How longhad it been now? Weeks? Months? It had started blurring together after a fewdays. There were no windows and there was no rhythm to the coming and going ofthe guards, no way to keep track of time…

He heard the door to his cell being opened andhe closed his good eye, figuring he might as well pretend to be unconscious. Itwould gain him a few minutes of respite probably.

“You like District dogs so much… Why don’t youtry this one?” a Peacekeeper laughed.

There was a pained whine and a thud as something – or more likely someone was thrown into his small cell.

“Hope you have fun with Abernathy’s bitch,Mitchell.” another of his captors said. “I heard she’s a screamer.”

A shiver ran down his spine but he still waiteduntil he heard the door close and the guards’ laugher fade in the distancebefore taking as deep a breath as his ribs allowed and rolling on his side tosit up. It was dark in the cell, the only source of light the four lines thatdefined the shape of the door, but not pitch dark.

He spotted the small shaking shape less than afoot from him and he dragged himself over, wincing all the way. His left armhung limp and useless at his side. He wondered if by the time this would beover he would be missing more than just a hand.

“Trinket?” he called. He was pretty sure it wasa safe bet. Abernathy’s bitch… To hisknowledge – and his knowledge was sound – Haymitch didn’t have a string oflovers lately.

“I don’t know anything.” the woman rasped outin an obvious mechanical response.

“Good for you.” he snorted. It was a fewminutes before he managed to crawl the distance between them. Maybe his bodywas in worse shape than he was willing to admit. She flinched when he put hisgood hand on her shoulder. “Come on, love. It’s just me. Just your old friendChaff.”

The shaking woman peered at him in thesemi-darkness. He couldn’t really tell for sure but she looked worse for thewear. How long had they had her? Since the arena had exploded? Longer? The thinprison uniform was sticky under his palm. Blood. She didn’t try to roll on herback, apparently happy to remain curled half on her stomach. He probed a littlewith his fingers, it wasn’t long before he found the first gash on her back andshe gasped so badly that he took his hand away.

“Sorry.” he muttered, making a face. Whip, heguessed. Not good. “How bad is it, love?”

“Chaff?” she asked. She didn’t sound completelyfocused.

“Yeah.” he confirmed.

“You are alive…” she breathed out.

“Hanging in there.” he snorted, grabbing herelbow to steady her when she pushed herself to a sitting position. She hissedand breathed heavily when the change in positions reopened the wounds on herback but she didn’t immediately faint or complain like he expected her to. Ittold him she had been there a while. “You saw anyone else?”

He was desperate for information.

He knew at least one other victor had beengrabbed from the arena but he didn’t know who. He just hoped they had gottenEverdeen out. The rebellion needed its Mockingjay. That had been the wholepoint. But he knew someone else hadbeen captured. He had seen it when…

They only fed him lies.

“They took Peeta.” she said slowly, reachingfor her face only to drop her hand at the last minute. Chaff frowned andgrabbed her chin, ignoring her flinching, forcing her to tilt her head so hecould see better in the meager rays of light coming from the door. “I amalright.”

It was a lie if he had ever heard one.

Her face was black and blue.

“You don’t know anything.” he scoffed. “What dothey keep you for?”

Her lips stretched into a sardonic smile thatchilled him to the bones. “Insurance.”

“Haymitch.” he said immediately, wrinkling hisnose. He had warned them enough time it would end badly. Hell, he had toldHaymitch time and time again that…

“No.” she denied, gently coiling her fingersaround his wrist and nudging his hand away from her face. “They force me tomake Johanna and Peeta presentable for propos now and then. They both behavebetter when my life is on the line.”

So the boy wasthere…

His heart missed a beat and then raced as if tocompensate. If the boy was there… He shouldn’t have been as pleased by thatnews as he was probably, but fuck thatmeant they might not have to survive until the end of the war after all.Because if the boy was there…

“Jo?” he asked. “She’s here?”

“Yes.” Trinket confirmed. “Annie too. But theyhaven’t touched her.”

“Cresta?” he frowned. “She’s got no part inthis. She’s…”

“But Finnick must know they have her.” she cuthim off. “At least that’s what Johanna and I concluded.” She waited for asecond and then swallowed hard. “We had no idea you were there. I… I never sawyou before…”

“They kept that girl with me at first…” hemumbled. “Your stylist?”

“Portia?” she asked, sounding far too muchhopeful.

“Yeah, maybe.” he shrugged – and immediatelyregretted it. “Broken jaw. Couldn’t chat. They moved her to another cell. I’mguessing you’re my new roommate.”

“They keep me with Johanna usually.” shewhispered. “They hurt me to make her behave.”

“You mentioned.” he snorted and still found itunbelievable that Jo would care at all. There was no love lost between thosetwo. Just like there was no love lost between them probably. He studied her as best as he could in thesemi-darkness, noting the way she hugged herself and the shivers. “You’recold.”

“I am always cold.” she chuckled without anyamusement. “Johanna says it means my body will give in soon.”

“Let’s not go down that road.” he grumbled,shifting until he felt the wall at his back. He found a sitting position thatwasn’t too hard on his ribs and opened his good arm. “Come here, love. Not goodfor much right now but I can still keep a girl warm.”

She hesitated for a long time before movingcloser. She was wary when she leaned into his side, mindful of her injuries aswell as his.

It was awkward on several different levels.

The least of which being her promise that shewould cut his remaining hand if he ever tried to grope her again. He was almosttempted to try just for the laugh of it.

“They are doing something to Peeta.” she whisperedafter a long moment.

He tried to open his swollen eye and gave up.“I’m guessing they’ve done stuff to all of us, love.”

“No.” she countered. “They are… I do not knowwhat they are doing to him. I do not know! But it is bad. He is…” Her voice broke and sheshook her head. “I keep telling Johanna Haymitch will come.”

“He will.” he said quietly. He knew his friend.If there was a chance to free the boy, Haymitch would take it. And he wouldgrab Jo and the rest of them on the way.

“I am not so sure.” she confessed. “It’s been…It’s been so long…”

“When he can, he’ll come.” Chaff insisted.“Come on, Trinket, you know our boy. He doesn’t give up on family.”

“He won’t give up on the children…” shemumbled, sounding a bit out of it. Her breathing was too raspy for his tastes.He wondered if she had broken ribs of her own. It occurred to him they mighthave tossed her in there so he could watch her die.

“Won’t give up on his girl either.” he chidedher, giving her a small jolt that made her whimper in pain. “You hang inthere.”

“Not his girl.” she protested weakly.

“Yeah, right…” he scowled. “You know, you’regetting skinned for it, might as well own up to it.”

“I’m his bitch…”she countered with bitterness. “There is no denying that anymore. It doesn’tmake me his girl. He doesn’t care about me. They’re right.”

“Trinket, if you really think that, then youdon’t know him at all.” he accused. And she musthave known better. Haymitch always insisted she was much clever than they all gaveher credit for… “Why do you think they’re keeping you?”

“To kill me at the right moment.” she retortedsleepily. “To weaken him. It does notmean…”

“Oh, yeah, it does.” he scoffed. “He’s been crazy about you for years. Stop italready.”

“You’re wrong.” she argued but her voice wasgetting fainter and her weight against his side was heavier.

“No, I ain’t.” he insisted. “You’re justfalling asleep or you’re dying on me, love? Warn a guy.”

“I’m tired…” she whispered. “I’m so tired… I can’t… I can’t let Johannasee… I have to… The children come first. We promised. The children come first.I have to protect them. I have to…”

He was surprised not to be surprised by thestrength in her voice despite how soft her words were. Trinket had always beena feisty little thing. He had just not know she could be brave too. MaybeHaymitch was right after all, maybe there were things about her he just didn’tunderstand.

“Ain’t no child, love. You can let go with me.”he offered. “But no dying, yeah? When I get out of here I don’t want to have toexplain to my best friend that his girl died on me.”

She half-chuckled, half-sobbed, her face brieflyburying in his shoulder.

“I miss him…” she confessed after a couple ofminutes, pain and longing lacing her voice. “I wanted to see him again. Ireally wanted to…” She licked her lips. “My body is numb. I can’t feel the painanymore. Johanna said…”

“You’re not dying on me, Trinket.” he said morefirmly, a bit panicked. “Come on. Talk to me. Tell me something about you.”

“Like what?” she murmured.

“I don’t know.” he sighed. “Anything that keepsyou talking. What do you want to do when this is over? Say the rebels win…”

“Can they?” she asked.

“I’m an optimist.” he dismissed. “So. You’refree to do anything you want with your life… What do you do?”

She was silent for a moment before he heard herlick her lips again. Or try to. If she was half as thirsty as he was…

“I really don’t know..” she answeredeventually.

“You’ve got no imagination, love.” hecomplained. “I’m gonna take a holiday and do nothing for a whole year. Hell,I’ll go visit Finnick in Four. He’s always going on and on about that place.Can’t be a bad place to be. Maybe we should all go. Have a little victorsholiday.”

“I am not a victor.” she pointed out.

“Like Haymitch would leave you behind.” hescowled.

“He did once.” She sounded bitter.

“He’d never have left you to be tortured.” heoffered quietly. “There’s an explanation somewhere.”

“I hope it’s a good one.” she remarked. “Toobad I will never hear it.” Her breathing was becoming more and more raspy andChaff’s worry was increasing by the second. It wasn’t just that he didn’t wantTrinket to die – it would crush Haymitch and he didn’t particularly want toshare his cell with a corpse – but it felt like forever since he had talked tosomeone like that. It felt like having a friend. “I love him, you know…” shemurmured. “Tell him if I… I love him…”

He tried to keep her awake. He asked questionsshe gave not quite coherent answers to.

He waited and waited for the guards to come by,hoping he could… He wasn’t sure what he could do to convince them to help her.Maybe that was another form of torture. Maybe next they would toss Jo in thereand let him watch while she die.Maybe it was all a ploy to make him talk or…

Trinket had long fallen asleep when the acridsmell burned his nose. He opened his good eye to see the room filled with fog.

He held his breath.

As long as he could he held his breath.

One whiff was enough for him to get sleepy…

He was already going under when the door was brutallyopened.

“That’s Chaff Mitchell.” a man said. “He’s onthe list. Grab him and let’s get out of here. We still need to find Mellark.”

“Who’s the woman?” someone else answered.“She’s not a victor, right? Should we…”

“We can’t save everyone, Hawthorne.” the firstvoice retorted, not sounding very pleased about that. “It’s going to be hardenough to get out with the ones we came for.”

Chaff felt hands prying Trinket away from hisside and he fought against the oblivion that wanted to swallow him. His goodhand grabbed an arm. He wasn’t quite sure whose.

“Take her.” he muttered.

The man who was looming over him shook hishead, looking sorry. “My orders are to grab the victors and go. I’m sorry but…”

“She’s…” he tried but it was too complicated toexplain. His brain wasn’t up to elaborate explanations. “Haymitch. She’sHaymitch’s. Take her.”

“You don’t understand.” the guy insisted. “Wecan’t take all the prisoners in this place. We came for you.”

“Take her.”he spat one last time, shoving the man away from him. “Tell Haymitch… TellHaymitch…” His good eyelid fluttered close. “He… He owes me one… yeah? Get herto…”

He had no idea what happened next or if he haddreamt the whole thing.

The next time he woke up Trinket was gone andhe was alone.

The Peacekeepers kept on coming and askingquestions as if nothing had happened. He figured he must have imagined it all.He figured he was going a little crazy.

He was definitely bordering on insane when thedoor opened on Haymitch months later.

He was feverish, mad with pain and half-dead.He was long used to hallucinations by then and it took him a while for him tobelieve his friend when he told him it was over, that he was free.

Free.

What a joke.

When he come in a hospital room a while later,feeling blissfully high on drugs, Haymitch was sitting right there, next to thebed. It felt like a strange reversal of all those years ago, when he had waitedfor a sixteen year old kid with far too much spunk to wake up.

“Tell me you’ve sneaked in some booze.” hemumbled and then opened and closed his mouth a few times. It was parched.

Haymitch startled, his grey eyes darting to hisface. “Chaff.”

“How long?” he asked. Because the question hadhaunted him for far too long.

“A few months.” Haymitch said. It was nowherenear precise enough but before he could complain about it, his friend hadgrabbed his hand. Weird. They weren’t touchy-feely. “Thank you.”

It took him a while to understand what Haymitchmeant. That short period of time with Trinket all that time ago felt like adream to him. He hadn’t been sure it had been real. The whole rescue thing…“They took her to you, then?”

“Yeah.” Twelve’s victor nodded, relief andgratitude mixing on his face. “Just in time too. She wouldn’t… She barely madeit to Thirteen. If you hadn’t…”

“Yeah.” he cut him off with a shrug, not reallyeager to be reminded that he could have been out of that prison much earlier. “She’s your girl, ain’tshe? Couldn’t let her die.”

“Thank you.” Haymitch said again, far toogravely.

There was more going on, he figured.

He only learned later about Everdeen’s sister,the dead kids at the Circle and who was really responsible for it. He learnedabout Finnick too. And about Annie’s pregnancy. And about far too many thingsat once.

He was frustrated with his own physical recoveryand couldn’t quite focus on Haymitch’s recurring rants.

Truth be told, he was almost relieved when theothers finally showed up, having finally been transferred from Thirteen. It wasgood to see Jo and Annie.

He wasn’t entirely sure about being huggedwithin an inch of his life by a small blond woman he could barely situate untilhe met her blue eyes.

“Thank you.” Trinket whispered in his earbefore planting a kiss on her cheek.

He was a bit embarrassed but he covered it upwith one of his familiar leer. “Now, love… You know Haymitch gets jealouseasy…”

There was laughter and nobody noticed he wasmostly pretending. Trinket was the only one who looked at him as if she had aclue. She was quieter than he remembered, more subdued. She reached out forHaymitch sometimes, as if to reassure herself he was really there, and Twelve’svictor was more open about his feelings than he had ever seen him. It wasnothing exceptional but the looks and the small discrete gestures of comfortspoke volumes. Chaff made some jokes, mostly because he felt it was expected ofhim.

He stopped joking when Trinket self-appointedherself his physical therapy coach.

Haymitch didn’t have time, Johanna was too fullof anger and short of patience, Annie needed to take it easy and the doctorsall agreed he needed support. He wasn’t sure how to explain he didn’t know howto find support in an escort with whom he had never really seen eye to eyebefore.

It was funny how sharing a cell, howeverbriefly, could change things though.

She seemed to have a gift to know when he wasfaking cheerfulness or when it was necessary to leave him alone, no matter howmuch he protested they weren’t bothering him.

It pained him to admit Haymitch had been right.

She was a good person.