#if i do end up missing breakfast. ill just eat lunch or a snack. i have some snacks in my room. i even had one later. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

obaby-me · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, uh feel free to ignore this but, could I have some headcanons on how the brothers react to an MC with really bad depression but it’s hard to spot? Like, they’re a really sweet cinnamon roll and always putting everyone before them and loves talking about anime, books, cats, music, and anything else they like. It’s hard to spot but the more time they spend with them the more the little details show, like how they never finish a meal(pt 1)

Author’s Note: No need to apologize. Really, you just handed me a bunch of starter sentences.

Lucifer

“I’m used to it,” you said with a smile.

There was nothing to smile about.

Lucifer had this whole evening planned out for the two of you. A night out at one of the finest restaurants in the Devildom, a special bottle on reserve for the two of you. He’d been prepared to take you to the skies tonight, to see the meteor shower up close tonight, and have you make wish after wish tonight.

You had been so excited for the shower. You told him of the human custom of wishing upon shooting stars over a month ago and the minute he knew the shower was coming, he made positively sure to clear his schedule for it. And yours as well.

But he’d had to break them. Diavolo had requested his presence on an emergency and he couldn’t say no. You knew that. He knew that.

And when he broke the news, while he knew you’d be understanding, he had expected at least some disappointment, maybe even tears.

He’d been prepared for that.

“The things happen all the time,” you assure him, giving him a smile. “I’ve learned to accept that. Plans are always more likely than not to be cancelled. I’ve learned not to keep such expectations.”

Lucifer felt guilt well up inside him. “My sincere apologies,” he said once again. “I did not realize I had made it such a habit to put you aside like this. I will make it up to you,” he promised.

“Oh, it’s not you,” you told him waving away his concern. “Everyone does it. It’s okay, really!” To emphasize your point, you continued, “One time, for my birthday, we were going to go to this giant indoor waterpark. But mother sort of forgot and took the family car for the day to a friend’s place. We had to cancel.”

And you laughed. You laughed and Lucifer knew that something was deeply wrong. Wrong with the people around you to treat you with such disrespect to put you aside for the most menial and selfish of reasons; and wrong with you to believe it as acceptable.

Lucifer would have to correct that. While in this particular case, because it was an absolute emergency, for the future, he made sure to keep a perfect record: every plan he made, he kept—and always perfectly on time. Nothing but Diavolo emergencies, real emergencies, could deter him. If it meant sleepless nights in preparation, or sending a brother in his stead, he would suffer it. And he made sure each brother kept their promises as well. Punishments became extremely severe should they be late when attending to you or in skipping any plans to you.

You had to know you were worth the time promised to you.

Mammon

“My church always did say I was going to hell,” you chuckled in response to Mammon when he officially, and drunkenly, proclaimed you “one of us!”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, slinging an arm around your neck and giggling drunkenly into you. “What for, troublemaker?”

“For being bi.”

Mammon gave a small snort, and waited for the rest of your list, but apparently, that was the end of your list. Or maybe he missed it. His head was spinning rather terribly. “Is that it?”

“Yes.”

Mammon laughed loudly in response, his grip on your shoulders pulling you to sway with him as the two of you walked towards the House of Lamentation. “Love ain’t a reason to be sent to hell!” What a ridiculous concept. Love wasn’t a sin, in fact, it was a kind of virtue.

You gave him a smile, smaller than you should for a night like this. Did you not believe him?

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound as sober as possible despite his drunken state. He figured it’d help if maybe he stopped walking to do so. “We really don’t judge that here,” he said. “Ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout that.”

“I know,” you said as you tried to get him moving again.

“No, ya don’t. Ya lookin’ all sad. About bein’ bi. Ya ain’t gotta be sad ‘bout that.”

“I’m not sad that I’m bi,” you clarify.

“Ya look sad,” he insisted.

You giggled slightly in return, and he just knew the words in your brain were something emasculating, like ‘cute.’

“On the contrary, I’m happy. I’m happy you don’t mind.”

Mammon laid his head against you. “Course I don’t. They shouldn’t either.”

“Well, they do.”

“Well, I don’t. And I’m here. And they’re not.”

You gave a small laugh as he blearily babbled on about how he intended to protect you from such people, from such things. You needn’t worry about a thing with him around, he assured you.

Leviathan

“I can relate.”

“To... this?” Levi asked with some surprise, eyes averting from the screen to you cuddled into his side.

You gave a small nod, unexpressive as you watched the protagonist, having lost his match against his rival, defeatedly monologue his own existential crises to the audience. Was all their efforts for nothing? What was the point of trying for more when clearly their dreams would never be realized?

Levi was quiet for a time, watching as the hero wallow in himself, waiting for the inevitable turn around, where the hero finds the answers to his question, finds his inspiration and resolve to keep them going.

But it didn’t come, not by the end of the episode.

Offended, Levi began a tirade of criticisms for regarding the episode, his worries not for the hero despite the context—but rather, for you.

For the next week he searches for anime and manga that center around the same themes, making sure the episodes and chapters that would bring the answers and conclusions necessary were available.

You had to read them.

You had to know.

Satan

“I think I was raised by a cult,” you murmured quietly.

Satan peered over his book at you, the air of silence you two had been enjoying while you read side by side broken by the most unexpected sentence.

He had many questions, but the first to make it out of his mouth was, “what?”

“Sorry,” you apologized quickly for having broken his concentration.

“A cult?” Satan continued, curious as to where this was going. “What kind of cult?”

“I was raised to think I was my dad’s property and that to go against my parents was to go against God.” You explained quietly, embarrassed to be speaking about this topic at all. But you had been the one to bring it up, albeit by accident—your mouth converting thoughts to your external voice rather than internal.

“Not an entirely novel concept for the middle ages. Have to say I’m surprised it’s managed to stick around,” Satan responded with a frown, closing his book carefully, a marker set into place to save it.

“Do you believe that to be true?” He asked.

You shook your head. He felt relief wash over him.

“But sometimes I still feel that, sort of, guilt, you know?”

Satan shifted so that he could get his arms around you, laying himself gently against you. “I imagine it would be difficult a feeling to unlearn.”

You said nothing in return, but quietly put some of your weight against him in acceptance of his affection.

“You don’t belong to anyone. You have every right to your own choices, no matter how your parents feel.” Satan murmured reminders into you. You knew these things, but to hear it felt reassuring.

It became a running theme that when asking you out for a date, Satan would ask or simply surprise you with, “something you’ve always wanted to do that you’re parents would absolutely hate.”

Asmodeus

“My dad’s always saying how fat I am,” you explained as you decline Asmo’s offering of his parfait.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Asmo asked with a tilt of his head.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat across from him and give a small noise that he thought you thought were words, but were entirely unintelligible once it hit the air.

“What was that, darling?”

“I said, I just don’t think I should have any.”

“Are you on a diet?”

“I mean, I should be.” You fidgeted in your seat, refusing to look Asmo in the eye. This was supposed to be a happy occasion: a special date he’d planned for the two of you out on the town trying all the most wonderful trendy treats the season had to offer.

“What do you mean you should be?”

“Well, my dad—“

Your dad, again? Why did his opinion matter to you so much? Especially when that opinion was just so wrong?

“Your dad has no right to say anything about your beautiful body, love!” Asmo protested. “If you want to diet, honey, we can go on one together. But don’t you dare say no to this parfait on account of your dad.”

For the rest of the day, and on into the evening, Asmo laid his compliments thick, and showered you with the attention your lovely body deserves.

Beelzebub

“I’m just not that hungry.”

“You said that at lunch too. And at breakfast.”

It wasn’t entirely unusual for you to skip a meal now and again. Sometimes, you just weren’t hungry after spending two hours snacking on gummies and popcorn in Levi’s room while marathoning TSL. Technically not a meal, but at least you had something in your stomach. Sometimes you were just too focused on a task that you’d forget the time all together.

But today you’d had nothing at all while holed away in your room. The few times he’d passed by, you laid curled on your side, scrolling through your phone.

A growl erupted in the room, and it wasn’t Beel’s. Your stomach was calling you out as a liar—outing you to the Avatar of Hunger incarnate.

“You should eat. I’ll pick something up for you.”

“I’m really not up to eating anything today.”

“Are you ill?”

“No,” you responded, turning your face away, as if ashamed to even look at him.

“You need to eat,” he insisted.

“I don’t want to.”

The question of why didn’t need to be asked. He only need to stare at you expectantly until you’d cave under his gaze.

“I don’t feel well,” you grumbled, contradicting yourself.

“Is it a cold? Satan does say you starve a cold and feed a fever.” He paused a moment. “Or was it the other way around?“ Beel asked himself, trying to recall the last time he and had his brothers had gotten sick. It had been centuries ago. (And it had been a disaster of each one getting sick after the other, passing it around.)

“It’s not that kind of sick.” You mumbled softly. “It’s not a body sick. It’s just... a...” You sunk further into the cocoon of your covers looking miserable. An unusual look for you.

“Sad sick?”

Not quite the way you’d put it, but it was apt enough for youYou didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

Beel quietly joined you on your bed, wrapping his arms around your comforter wrapped form and tugging you close. He’d feed you later, he’d hug you now.

Belphegor

“My needs don’t matter.”

“They do,” came Belphie’s immediate response—cutting in a way that felt dangerous, frightening: an end to the sentence, to the thought. His eyes were stern and you shivered beneath his gaze, having both been caught off guard by how quick his response had been, and how angry it had been.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered in response, feeling guilty that you had upset him, to have ruined the lovely moment you two had been having.

Arms wrapped around you as Belphie pulled you against him. He shifted from sitting beside you, to wrapping himself around you, trapping you between his legs and his arms. “Don’t say it again. Don’t think it.”

Easier said than done, he knew that. “Belphie, it’s okay—“

“It’s not.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, an automatic response.

“You matter,” Belphie said, his head dropped into your shoulder and neck as he curled tighter around you. “You matter to me. If you need something, you should ask it. I’ll give it to you. I’d give you everything.”

There was quiet as you thought the statement over. “I just don’t want to be a bothe-“

“You’re not.” Belphie pre-emptively answered. “You could never be. Ask me. Ask anything of me. I gave myself to you, didn’t I?”

You thought yourself so little, so unimportant, but to Belphie you were so significant, so important, so beloved—and to have you not recognize that was as disrespectful to yourself as it was to him.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #headcanon #ouch #my heart #it's gonna be okay anon #i hope these make you feel better

117 notes · View notes

sasserenitysykingcollector · 3 years ago

Text

Moon Child :Namjin: Chapter One

A/N hello! im going to start posting my fanfictions here! a lot of them were written a year or so ago so they are short and maybe a bit confusing! but im planning to start working on them! please stick around!

Chapter one:

Chapter word count: 1596

It was a rather cloudy day in central Seoul, the rising sun covered by a thin layer of grey clouds that foreshadowed rain. But for the students of the most prestigious college in the country, life continued on as normal. The clock tower rang out eight times, echoing off the many buildings that comprised the campus of Seoul National University. Slowly, the walkways and roads came to life. Students walking to breakfast with friends, teachers making their way to class to prepare for the day, and café workers opening the doors for the breakfast rush.

One café, in particular, was already full of customers, most of whom were women wanting to see the attractive co-owner of the establishment. Kim Seokjin, A fine arts and literature student at the university, often dreaded all the attention he received from the ogling guests. But he smiled and greeted each one the same, “Good morning miss, what may I make for you?” sometimes the customers would slide him a napkin with the money that had their name and phone number, to which he smiled politely and threw away once they walked away.

His male classmates called him the “Woman Magnet” to which he smiled, even though he knew he was the last person who should attract women. When he was fifteen, he had the biggest crush on his classmate Yoongi, it was a defining moment in his life. He had never felt any kind of attraction to women, sure some were cute, but he never thought about them as a potential partner. He wanted to tell his parents but could never bring himself to do it before he left for college. So whenever his mother calls asking about his love life, he always responds with “I’m in a committed relationship” and he never elaborates.

Luckily, his Fine arts class is mostly men, so he doesn’t have to worry about turning down women then, but it’s a double-edged sword. Some of the men in his class are attractive, and Seokjin often catches himself staring, mentally scolding himself every time. Being openly gay in Korea is risky, while there are no laws against it. The idea of loving the same-sex had only started to spread a few years ago. And Seokjin being a respected student at his college had decided to keep his sexual preference to himself.

The library became his safe place, specifically the mythological section. Mostly because no one ever goes there. But he had grown attached to the books and their contents. He liked to get lost in the worlds the books built for the reader. Sometimes, he would be there for hours at a time. Once he had to be told by the librarian that he had to leave because it was time to close.

His favorite book to read was called “Guardian of the moon children” it depicted a being who had no set species. It came in many forms, to young children it often appeared as a white or grey dog who guided them to eternal rest. When as for adults it appeared as a youthful young man who was described as having a deep but soft voice and soft skin. Not only did the being guide human souls to eternal rest, but it also was seen during the birth of someone who would do important things in their life. While Seokjin knew this was just fiction, he wanted it to be true.

At the end of his morning shift, Seokjin would head back to his apartment to shower and change his clothes. After which he would prepare a clean uniform for work and put it in his bag, before sitting at his desk for an hour to study before he had class. He only had four hours’ worth of classes a day, except for Fridays when he had six. So he always finished right before lunch. He would rush back to the café and change into his uniform before eating a quick snack. Normally, he would have ten to fifteen minutes to relax before the lunch rush began. Much like in the morning, women would stare and attempt to hit on Seokjin. It was something he never looked forward to. Part of him thought that if people knew why he worked three shifts a day, they would feel much differently about him. Seokjin had a loan to pay off, a hefty one at that. He had taken the loan out when he moved to attend the university. He had to pay for a place to sleep and the fees that were a result of schooling. At the rate he was making money, it would still be more than two years before he would have the loan completely paid off.

Something Seokjin s parents had told him since he was young was the reason he worked so hard, “if you do something, take responsibility. No matter how big or small the consequences are, never lie about something you did” those words were engraved on his mind, always haunting him, a reminder that the debt will never go away unless paid off. But he accepted it. After the lunch rush. He would make his way home. Working on the pile of homework he was assigned from the day’s classes. If he was able to finish before six, he would go to the library and read before his dinner shift. This was the way he lived.

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\

“Morning Seokjin, did you have another late night?”

Seokjin bowed slightly out of habit to the café owner, Minseok. Quickly standing straight, Minseok had told Seokjin to treat him as a friend, meaning he should call him by his name and not treat him as he normally would someone older than him.

“Yah!” Minseok exclaimed in exasperation, “I told you not to bow!” Seokjin smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Making his way behind the counter, Seokjin grabs his apron, tying in with ease. “Do you want me to open today?” he asked. “Go ahead” Minseok replied.

As usual, a line of people had already formed outside the door following Seokjin's arrival to the café. He smiled and waved politely before flipping the switch that then lit up a “yes! We are open!” sign.

As the line slowly shrunk and the smell of coffee and fresh pastries faded from the display that hosted an array of freshly baked goods, a deep voice greeted Seokjin

“Good morning sir” Seokjin squeaked out, surprised that he was able to keep his voice steady, albeit slightly higher pitched. “What can I get for you?”

“Ah, I’m new to this area but I saw the long line so I assumed it must be worth the wait, and I can assure you is was.” The man responded looking Seokjin over with his eyes, before meeting them directly.

Seokjin stared for longer than he probably should have, the man's eyes had stars in them, literal stars that floated and shone throughout his pupils, small specks that hypnotized him.

The clearing of a throat snapped him out of his trance, “s-sorry!” he apologize slightly louder than he needed to, causing a few heads to turn in his direction. “W-we are fairly well known for our crumble scones” he spoke nervously, gesturing to the half empty bake-case. “We have a f-few left”

“How perfect, I just so happen to love scones” the man replied running his fingers back through his hair. “And I’ll also have a (joon coffee) with that scone” Seokjin nodded and put the order into the register. Silently, Seokjin hoped the man would pay with his card so he could get his name.

“That will be 7100 Won please” When he looked up he spotted the exact amount in cash on the counter as the man tucked his wallet back into the inside pocket on his suit jacket. “Can I have a name for the order?” He asked. Even Though normally the café went off a number system he thought he would ask.

The man paused in thought “φεγγάρι” (Pronounced fen-gar-e) Seokjin jotted down the name, quickly realizing the name was the Greek word for Moon. He had taken Greek for his language the year before. Though, he never thought it would come in handy.

“You have a Greek name?” Jin asked as he sat the cup to his side and went to get the scone from the display case. “You know Greek?” the man asked. “Uh, y-yeah” Jin said shyly. His cheeks going red when he looked up only to realize that the eyes of the customer were glued onto his own.

“Oh!” Jin exclaimed as he stumbled and dropped the scone that slid on the floor.

Gasps filled the café as the man had caught Jin from falling, “w-wait how?? You were- now you're here?!” he spoke to himself as the man helped him stand up. “I'm going to have to cancel my order for now” he said as he walked towards the entrance, Jin stood in shock along with the other people in line.

Whispers continued throughout the day as Seokjin apologized and cleaned up the mess, he ended up dropping more drinks throughout the day as his mind was trying to deduce how the man made it to his side of the counter when the door to the back was locked, he couldn't remember if he saw the man jump the counter, but that would be impossible. Not a thing was out of place.

Seokjin had one thing in mind all day long, “where can I meet him again”

A/N: Hope you liked it! ill try and update regularly!

#bts namjoon #bts fanfic #bts jin #namjin #fanfic #bangtan

2 notes · View notes

nuttydelphox · 4 years ago

Text

The Moon is Brighter By Your Side

Story by @nuttydelphox

Companion art by @slytherinliththorne

Words: 5,200

My half of the @hphmbang2020 done with slytherinliththorne! You can find her half here!

Prompt: Chiara once lost a friend to her lycanthropy and had avoided contact with people since then. But the unexpected friendship with Jae Kim changes it all.

==========

The night was still in the Hufflepuff dorms where Chiara slept. The only movement was her own tossing and turning. Her breathing was short as if she were being chased. When her eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright she found that the sun was beginning to rise.

Sunrise…

Chiara let out a sigh. The night was over, and with that her nightmares. At least for now. She lays back down and stares at the canopy of her bed, thinking to herself.

The nightmares came every night recently. They pop up every now and then to remind her of her past, and what she has been doomed to. They were always the same. A bright smile that twists into a look of horror the second the sun goes down.

Chiara shook the thoughts out of her head. No use dwelling on them now. She slowly and quietly gets out of bed and dresses, trying not to wake her dormmates. Without a sound she slips out of the dorm and out of the Hufflepuff Common Room.

With the sunrise came the end of curfew, meaning that the Great Hall would be opening for breakfast soon. Her stomach grumbling, Chiara ascended the stairs out of the basemen and into the drafty hallway. She found the Great Hall was still closed. A bit disappointed, Chiara decided to take a short walk to kill some time.

The windows along the corridors were open, letting the chilly wind pass through and nip at her ears. Pulling her robes tighter around her, Chiara notices that she wasn’t the only student up this early. A small crowd was gathered around a bench at the other end of the corridor. In the middle of the crowd was Jae Kim, selling his usual contraband - or as he liked to call it, “uncommon collectibles.” Seems like the early morning is a good time for business as most professors and Prefects aren’t awake yet.

Chiara’s stomach growls again as she notices that Jae is also selling sweets. Pumpkin Pasties, Peppermint Toads, Bertie Bott’s Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Fizzing Whizzbees, Cauldron Cakes, and Sugar Quills to name a few. Having not eaten since an early dinner the previous night, Chiara was quite hungry, and found herself approaching the small crowd.

“What can I get for you?” Jae asked as she got closer and the students parted to make room for her.

“Oh, sorry. I was just looking… I don’t have any money on me,” Chiara said truthfully.

“That’s cool,” Jae said before turning his attention back to the other students.

As his customers purchased what they wanted and the crowd thinned, Jae noticed that Chiara was still looking at the sweets intently. After his last customer purchased an Auto Answer Quill and Chiara was the last one standing there, Jae finally asked, “Are you just looking for a snack?”

“Huh? Oh… Yes. Sorry, I’m hungry and the Great Hall isn’t open yet…”

“Tell you what, how about I give you something on the house? Since you aren’t looking for anything that’s actually against the rules.”

Chiara was a bit startled by the offer, but wasn’t about to turn down free sweets. “I’ll take a Sugar Quill then.”

Instead of handing her just one, Jae gave her two. He considered saying something like, “Cute girls get extra,” but only Diego could pull off something like that. Instead he said, “A little sugar to kick start your day.”

“Thank you, Jae,” Chiara said with a smile on her face. She walked away, already chewing one of the Sugar Quills.

==================

“Um… Jae?” Chiara asked. “Are you going to be able to stay awake for this lesson…?”

From the looks of it he wasn’t. His eyes were fluttering trying to stay open and his face was slipping from its rest on his hand. Chiara knew full well that Divination was a class Jae frequently slept through, and she wasn’t too thrilled to be his partner for this lesson.

They were reviewing dream interpretation that day, and were separated into pairs. Knowing that Jae drifts off in class, Professor Trelawny had paired him with Chiara, hoping that her most enthusiastic student would help her least enthusiastic student to focus. So far it didn’t seem to be working.

Chiara had always assumed that Jae slept through this class because he found it boring. But now she was finding out that it was more so the heat and the fumes that were putting him to sleep. Not that she could blame him; it was quite stuffy in the room.

Professor Trelawny gave them a rundown of the lesson, then floated around the room assisting students as they tried to discern their fortune from their dreams.

“Jae?” Chiara asked, prompting him to open his eyes. “What kind of dreams do you have?”

He fixed his chin into his hand and looked off into the distance, thinking. “Well… I don’t often have dreams… That I remember anyway… I remember when I was little I often had dreams where I was watching a play with my mom and I would have to go onstage and fill in for one of the actors. Does that count?”

“I don’t think so… What about recent dreams?”

“Um… Last week I had a dream that I was being chased.”

Chiara started to flip through the pages of their textbook. “Chase dreams are common. They mean that you’re avoiding something in your waking life. Responsibilities or even yourself.” She found the page on chase dreams. “Seems like they can also represent close-mindedness and fear.”

Jae blinked. “You know all that from the top of your head?”

“Well, I’ve been studying dream interpretations… This is my favorite class after all.”

“I am glad to hear that you are enjoying my class, Miss Lobosca,” Professor Trelawny said as she moved closer to their table. “Mr. Kim, you are having dreams of being chased, I hear? As Miss Lobosca said they are very common. What dreams have you been having my dear?”

The question was directed at Chiara, who was startled at the sudden inquiry. She knew full well what her nightmares of horrified faces and the full moon represented…

“I-I’m also having dreams of being chased, Professor…” Chiara lied.

==================

“No really,” Jae said, pleadingly, “it’s my stomach. I think the sandwich I ate was bad…”

“Is that so,” Madam Pomfrey said in a voice that made it clear that she was not convinced. She had no time to expose him however, as she was busy with a wave of students who decided it was a good idea to listen to Mandrake cries, so she tasked Chiara with taking care of Jae while she focused on the other students.

While it was true that Jae wasn’t ill, he did have good reason for needing to go to the Hospital Wing. His late night trips into Knockturn Alley were proving fruitless lately, and he was losing profits as well as sleep. He had an idea of what he needed to change for the better; the issue was putting that into action. But first he needed sleep.

Sleeping in class wasn’t an option as he would only get caught and given even more detention time, not that he cared but it wouldn’t help him at all. And skipping class to sleep in his dorm or the Gryffindor Common Room would only get him caught by a Prefect. Even faking illness wasn’t fool-proof, as he could easily be caught by Madam Pomfrey. But it seemed like the least dangerous option.

Chiara closed the curtains around Jae’s bed to block out some of the scolding the other students were receiving from Madam Pomfrey. She placed a bucket next to his head. “How long ago did you eat the bad sandwich?”

“It was during lunch, so an hour ago…” Jae rolled onto his side, clenching his stomach in his bid for believability.

“What was on the sandwich?”

“Uh...roast beef?”

“Hmm… Maybe it was expired, or left out too long.” Chiara sat down in the chair next to Jae’s bed. “Let me know if you have to throw up.”

Jae nodded slightly then closed his eyes. The Hospital Wing was far from quiet, but at least he had a bed. He dozed off and on, occasionally holding his stomach and groaning to complete the act. As he rested he tried to think of what he could do to increase his profits. His mind kept coming back to the same conclusion, and he groaned at the thought of it.

“Jae, you don’t have to groan,” Chaira said. “I know you’re faking but I’m not going to tell Madam Pomfrey.”

Jae rolled over and said sheepishly, “...You won’t?”

“No. I can tell that you need sleep, and I know what it’s like to need sleep. It’s important for your health and you’ll eventually get sick if you don’t rest. ...Besides, I have to repay you for the Sugar Quills.” Chiara smiled at him.

Jae smiled back at her and felt a rush of warmth in his chest. He rested his head down to sleep again, thinking that he would have to pay her kindness forward.

==================

A few days later in Astronomy class, Professor Sinistra was despondent. “I had wanted to study the new moon for this week’s class, but since the night sky is still cloudy from this afternoon’s showers we shall make do with our lunascopes.”

Chiara was unsure of how they were supposed to see the new moon even with a clear sky, but she didn’t bother to ask. While she enjoyed Astronomy class and divining the future based on the stars, she was unable to find much beauty in the moon, even with a lunascope. Her nightmares were just as frequent as before, and she was beginning to dread sleep again.

As she looked through her lunascope, the stars seemed to form the outline of a face she was never able to forget. Selina…

It was a suitable name for someone who looked like the full moon. Shining eyes full of wonder and a smile that lit up the night. She hadn’t been deterred when she first heard that her neighbor was a werewolf. Chiara found validation in this. Here was proof that her parents were wrong to shut her away from other people. Wrong to prevent her from making friends.

Chiara and Selina became fast friends, as children are wont to do. But the first time and only time she saw Chiara transform… She would never forget how fear had filled those shining eyes and the terror in her scream… Perhaps she was doomed to never have friends. Perhaps that was part of being a werewolf.

“Psst, Chiara,” Jae whispered next to her, nudging her arm. “What’s the difference between ‘waxing gibbous’ and ‘waning gibbous’?”

Chiara was a bit startled to be so suddenly shaken from her memories. She was only able to stutter at Jae in response.

“Miss Lobosca! Mr. Kim!” Professor Sinistra scolded them from the front of the class. “Care to share with the rest of us your conversation which must be so much more interesting than my lesson?”

Chiara was so stunned that she was speechless; she had never been called out in class like this before. Was she going to get detention?

“Sorry, Professor,” Jae spoke up beside her. “It’s my fault. I was asking her for help.”

“If you need help, Mr. Kim, you can always raise your hand to ask me the question. That way it won’t be an interruption.” With that, Professor Sinistra returned to the lesson.

Chiara and Jae looked at each other. It was unusual for him to take the blame instead of deflect it. She smiled at him a silent ‘thank you’, and he smiled back.

==================

Jae sighed as he counted his stock for the third time in a row and came up with the same small amount. His income was the lowest it had been in weeks, and still wasn’t improving.

“Still coming up short?” asked Charlie from his bed.

“Yeah,” Jae put the money away in a bag and locked it in his trunk. “I have to come up with a way to get some more goods…”

“Where do you even go in Knockturn Alley to get your stuff?” Charlie asked, looking up from his Herbology homework.

“Here and there,” Jae said evasively. “But my sources haven’t been that good or reliable lately. I have to find more…”

Jae thought about his plan to do so. It would require delving deeper into Knockturn Alley and coming out of his hiding place in the shadows. He preferred hiding where it was safer. Out in the open you were vulnerable to the denizens of the Alley and whatever transgressions they felt like doing. He shivered at the thought. He was horribly unprepared to come out of the shadows…

But he had a plan to prepare himself. The plan was just as dangerous as Knockturn Alley itself, but he knew he had to go through with it. If only to keep his business from going under.

‘I’ll go in a few nights…’ Jae thought to himself as he looked out the window onto the rainy grounds.

==================

Chiara closed the book as the last of the ghosts drifted through the wall and left. She had just finished reading Cinderella to the ghost of a somber looking Slytherin boy, but her heart wasn’t in it. Sure she had read the book aloud and the Slytherin boy didn’t seem to have any complaints, but her mind was elsewhere.

She had joined Penny in reading fairy tales to the lonely ghosts of the castle a while ago, and she loved it. But tonight she was distracted and subdued. She looked out the window into the rainy night. Even through the gloom the moon could be seen peeking out of the clouds. The full moon was only a few nights away…

Penny was packing up her own book when she noticed the faraway look in Chiara’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Chiara pulled her gaze from the window. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about the story.”

“Cinderella? It’s a Muggle classic. What do you think of it?”

Chiara wasn’t going to tell Penny about her thoughts of Cinderella magically changing back into her rags at the stroke of midnight and how it mirrored her own magical transformation in the light of the moon. Instead she simply said, “It must be nice to be whisked away to a life of luxury and certainty.”

Penny nodded as they set off for the Hufflepuff Basement together. “It must be. It’s every girl’s dream.”

“It is?” Chiara asked, genuinely confused.

“Of course! To have no worries, for the rest of your days… Hakuna matata and all that.” Penny chuckled at Chiara’s bewildered expression. “Never mind that. Let’s talk about something else. What’s going on with you and a certain Jae Kim?”

“The question was so out of left field that it took Chiara a moment to process what Penny had said. “I-what?”

I saw that look the two of you shared in Astronomy the other night. What was that about?”

“Oh that? That was nothing.”

“Come on, you can tell me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Chiara wasn’t sure how true that was. While she and Penny did get along very well both in and out of classes, Chiara was reluctant to let people get too close to her. Especially knowing that werewolves are Penny’s greatest fear… True, she was accepting of Chiara and even brewed Wolfsbane potion for her, but Chiara didn’t want to risk another Selina.

“It’s...nothing. Really, it’s nothing.”

Penny gave her an appraising look. “Alright, if you say so.”

They walked in silence after that.

==================

The darkness was thick, and swallowed the light from Jae’s wandtip. The only time he could see a tree was right before walking into it. He frequently tripped on roots and shrubs, despite walking back and forth along the same path.

“Come on, Jae,” he said to himself. “You have to do this. You can’t continue your business unless you can get a good stock. And to get a good stock you have to go deeper into Knockturn Alley.”

He took a deep breath and stared into the trees. He wasn’t in Knockturn Alley, but along the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest. Sneaking out was easy - he’d done it so many times. What was hard was working up the courage to walk into the Forest.

This was something he had to do. Chiara’s dream interpretation basically confirmed everything he had already been suspecting himself. He was avoiding his responsibilities as a business owner and he was avoiding himself. In order to overcome his fear of the dangers the darkness brings, he’ll have to face them himself.

The clouds parted, and revealed the full moon. It’s light illuminated the path in front of him, giving Jae some reassurance. He held his wand out in front of him and delved deeper into the Forest.

The path was well worn by both Hagrid and Kettleburn, so he was no longer tripping on shrubs and roots. As Jae continued to walk in the Forest he was becoming more and more anxious of every noise he heard. Was it something harmless, like a Unicorn? Or was it an Acromantula? Or a Centaur?

A particularly close rustling made him pause and point his wand, ready to attack if necessary. Out of a shrub came a small creature that looked quite like a dog. It looked up at Jae with big round eyes and turned its head to the side.

“Oh...hello there,” Jae said. “You’re quite adorable.”

The cub wagged its tail, which Jae took as a sign of friendliness. He relaxed his arms and knelt down to look more closely at the cub. “Are you lost? Or do you live here?”

It turned its head to the other side, then walked up to Jae and sat down in front of him. Jae scratched its head. “You’re quite friendly. Do you have a name?”

“Borf!” the cub barked.

“Shh!! You don’t know what could be lurking nearby.”

“Borf borf!”

Before Jae could respond the cub turned around and ran back the way it came.

“No, wait!” Jae called out a bit too loudly. “Come back! It’s too dangerous for a cub like you!”

Jae gave chase following the cub through the bushes and undergrowth. The cub was consistently at the edge of his wandlight, but just out of reach. It had a much easier time slipping under roots and around tree stumps than Jae did. On top of that it seemed to know where it was going. All the while the cub was barking.

“Shh! You’ll attract something dangerous! Like a...a…”

Jae’s words trailed off as they reached a small grove in the Forest. A gap in the trees allowed some moonlight through to the ground, where it perfectly illuminated a small bag and moonstone necklace. They were neatly placed at the base of a tree, almost as if hidden. What startled Jae the most was that he recognized them.

“These...belong to Chiara. What are they doing out here…?”

Jae picked up the two items and inspected the bag further. In it was Chiara’s wand and a photo of a sunrise over Hogwarts. The cub sat down next to him and wagged its tail.

Jae looked around, as if expecting to see Chiara nearby. He’s just beginning to wonder if she was okay when the cub began to chew on her bag strap. “Hey, don’t do that!” Jae scolded, pulling the strap up and away from the cub’s mouth. In retaliation the cub barked again.

“Shhhhhh!!” Jae said again, putting his finger to his mouth. The cub stops barking and turns its head again.

From somewhere in the trees they hear a howl.

He drops Chiara’s belongings. Fear rushes through Jae’s body as he scoops up the cub in a panic and looks around the grove. In his rush to follow the cub earlier, he had unknowingly abandoned the path. He was lost now, with nothing but his wand to defend himself. He cycled through all the spells he knew in his mind. He could cast Red Sparks into the air, but will anybody see it to save him? What if he just attracts more danger? Are his concealment charms good enough to hide him? Can he handle himself in a duel?

Why had he come into the Forbidden Forest at all? Why did he follow the cub instead of just letting it run off? What was going to happen to them now?

The howl pierces the night again, closer now.

Jae crouches against the tree trunk, extinguishing the light from his wand and trying to make himself smaller. Suddenly, the cub in his arms howls back. A cold wave washes over Jae as he realizes that what he’s holding is a werewolf cub.

He hears footsteps nearby and across the grove he can see the outline of a large creature with long limbs and pointed ears. An adult werewolf.

Jae bolts to his feet and furiously tries to climb the tree. He makes it up three branches when he realizes that he was still holding the cub in one arm. He was too high off the ground now to drop it, and he couldn’t climb down. He stared at the adult werewolf, and it just stared back at him.

Then it slowly stepped forward into the little light pilfering through the treetops. It was a bright white, whereas the cub in Jae’s arms was a muted gray. The blue eyes were just as bright, and Jae registered that it was odd to see something so bright in such a dark forest.

The werewolf slowly came closer to the tree, which Jae realized it could easily scale. He tried to climb a bit higher, but with the cub in one arm it was tremendously difficult. As he reached for a branch, Jae’s foot slipped beneath him and he fell several feet to the ground.

Pain exploded in his ankle and he bit down on his cheek to suppress a scream. Tears stung his eyes and he finally lets go of the cub, who was unharmed. The cub calmly walked over to the adult werewolf, who pet it like a human would.

Jae couldn’t be in a worse situation. He was severely injured and alone at the feet of a werewolf. Even if he managed to cast Red Sparks, the werewolf would have bitten him - or worse eaten him - by the time help arrived.

...But the werewolf wasn’t attacking him. He looked up at it with tear-filled eyes and saw that it was not even growling at him. In fact it looked nothing like the bloodthirsty monsters werewolves were always described as. This one wasn’t out of its mind or acting on instinct. Jae could see that the blue eyes were sane, and intelligent. And familiar…

The adult werewolf picks up Chiara’s bag and begins to fish around in it. If Jae wasn’t in searing pain and scared out of his mind he might try to stop it. The werewolf pulled out Chiara’s wand and crouched closer to Jae. He couldn’t move away from it even if he tried.

The werewolf points the wand at Jae’s ankle and within a moment, the pain began to quickly ebb away. He flexes his ankle and finds that it was perfectly healed. Instead of mauling or biting him, the werewolf had saved him…

But how could the werewolf perform magic with Chiara’s wand? True, Jae wasn’t that familiar with wandlore and the rules of wand magic - he probably slept through that lesson - but something still seemed off. He looks back and forth between Chiara’s wand and the werewolf until he makes the connection.

“...Chiara…?”

The werewolf’s blue eyes widened and it backed up. The cub however stepped forward and licked Jae’s face. Then it pulled on his hoodie until Jae got the message and stood up. He gingerly put weight onto his ankle, finding that it didn’t hurt at all now. He looked up at the werewolf, who was several feet away now. Jae lit his wand again to see it better. The werewolf retreated an inch further.

“I...thank you,” he says, at a loss for better words. “Are you...?”

Without answering, the werewolf pointed into the trees and then ran off into the opposite direction. Jae was about to give chase before the cub pulled on his pant leg. He looked down at it, and it walked away into the direction the adult had pointed. Seems like now it was going to lead him out of the Forest…

Jae was not paying attention as he followed the werewolf cub. Instead he was lost in his thoughts. Those eyes...the healing spell…the necklace and bag… It had to be Chiara. He had heard rumors of a werewolf attending Hogwarts, but that was mainly something used by the seventh years to scare the first years. To think that it was not only true, but someone he knew…

The cub led Jae all the way to the path that they had met on before standing on its hind legs to place its front paws on Jae’s legs. “Thanks for being my guide, little one,” Jae said, scratching it under the chin. It responded by licking Jae’s palm and then climbing down to disappear back into the Forest.

==================

Chiara was mortified. It was her worst fear come true. Someone at Hogwarts knew her secret, and he was going to tell everyone.

When the sun rose and her transformation wore off, Chiara made her way out of the Forbidden Forest on trembling feet. In fact her whole body was shaking in fear. What was going to happen when she showed back up at the castle? Would the students start hurling insults at her? Run her off of the grounds? Where would she go to school now? Where would she live?

She peeked around every corner before proceeding down a corridor, terrified of running into someone. She was nauseous with worry and anxiety. Jae was the first person she saw, and she almost threw up there. He was sitting on the same bench that she found him on just a few weeks ago. This time he was alone, counting his stock.

Chiara steadied her breath. Maybe this was an opportunity to convince him not to tell anyone if he hadn’t already. She planned what to say to him and then marched around the corner before she could change her mind.

When she got close enough he looked up. She had barely opened her mouth to speak before Jae said, “Hey, Chiara. Are you looking for more Sugar Quills?”

Chiara blinked and faltered. He asked it so casually. As if he didn’t see her in werewolf form last night.

“I...no. No, not right now. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

Chiara had completely forgotten what she was going to say. She stood there dumbly looking at thim. Jae stared back, beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“Um...what did you want to talk about?”

“I...I forget.”

Feeling lame, Chiara plopped herself down on the bench next to Jae. He shuffled his stock uncomfortably. “Does it...have to do with last night at all?”

“...Yes.”

“Okay. Well, for starters are you feeling alright?”

“...What?”

“I heard that the transformations are painful. Are you feeling alright?”

Chiara wasn’t sure at all what to say now. He didn’t seem scared of her, and he wasn’t angry with her. It seemed like he actually cared. Which couldn’t be right.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Are we?”

“Yeah? I thought?”

The last time a friend had seen Chiara transform, she screamed and ran away. She reacted so poorly that Chiara’s mother had to Obliviate her and move the whole family away. And now Jae was sitting next to her, calling her a friend after seeing her transformed.

What was different about Jae? Or was it Selina who was different?

“...You saw me transformed.”

“I did. I’m sorry that I was afraid of you at first. I didn’t realize that one: it was you. And two: that you weren’t a bloodthirsty monster like I was led to believe.”

Chiara blinked and recoiled a bit. “Bloodthirsty monster?”

Jae threw up his hands defensively. “I didn’t mean it like that! I meant that I was always told that werewolves were out of control and always hunting people. And I believed it because I never knew anything different until last night.”

Chiara wasn’t sure what to say, so she didn’t say anything. She turned her gaze to her hands instead of looking at Jae. She didn’t want him to see her tears.

Jae let them sit in silence before saying, “Thank you for healing my ankle by the way.”

Chiara wiped her eyes in what she hoped was a casual manner. “Oh that? Yeah, no problem. I heal bones all the time in the Hospital Wing…”

“Was that a werewolf cub that led me to you?”

“Oh year! That’s Borf. He’s a good judge of character. What were you doing in the Forbidden Forest on a full moon night anyway?”

“Oh…” Jae looked sheepish. “Well… Looking back it was a stupid plan. See, I need to make some new connections in Knockturn Alley in order to keep my business running. But in order to do that I need to go deeper into the Alley. Which...frankly I’m scared to do. So I’ve been avoiding it and staying in the safe shadows rather than risking going out into the open. I...was avoiding my responsibilities and running away from myself, which you figured out from my chasing dreams a few weeks ago in Divination class.”

It took a few moments for Chiara to dig up that memory. “You paid attention to my dream interpretation?”

“Well, yeah,” Jae shrugged. “It seemed to mean a lot to you, and you knew what you were talking about. You said it represented fear, and I’m obviously afraid of being out in the open of Knockturn Alley. Which is why I was in the Forest. To sort of practice for Knockturn Alley.”

Jae turned sheepish again. “And you also said that my chase dreams represented close-mindedness. Which you were right about again. I was close-minded about werewolves until I saw you…”

Chiara looked at him in awe. “Wow… I always figured you thought Divination was a hack profession just like most people do… Guess I was close-minded about you as well.”

Jae smiled and handed her three Sugar Quills. “Well it seems like we make each other better. I’d say that’s a pretty solid foundation for a friendship.”

Chiara graciously accepted the treats. “I agree.”

She thought about Selina again. Perhaps their falling apart was just because they were too young to understand one another. Maybe Selina was in a better place now. Chiara certainly was. She knew now that she could trust Jae. And if he was good enough for Borf he was good enough for her. And of course Jae proved himself well.

Chiara began to realize that she had a lot more friends than she knew about. Penny, Tonks, Badeea, Liz, Talbott…

Chiara smiled and bit into a Sugar Quill.

Maybe she wasn’t so alone after all...

#HPHM Bang 2020 #Chiara Lobosca #Jae Kim #HPHM

20 notes · View notes

sethrine-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Devil-sitter May Cry, Ch. 4

Pairing: Dante x F!Reader, Vergil x F!Reader (Undecided)

Words: 1844

Warning: Cuteness, Defensive/protective Nero, Demon attack

Story Summary: Low on cash and desperate for a job, you reply to a flyer for a babysitting position. Little did you know that the opportunity to watch over two special boys would bring your life so much mayhem and adventure…and, perhaps, a chance at a family of your own.

A/N: First day continues, and with some unexpected excitement at the end!

------

Chapter 4 - First Day Surprises

The rest of the morning went by rather smoothly.

After cleaning up breakfast, you made your way upstairs and found the boys' shared bedroom where a fully dressed V was helping a flailing Nero fix his inside-out shirt. V was laughing the whole time and telling his cousin to be still as he attempted to pull the shirt over his head, of which somehow had gotten stuck in a way only an unsupervised child could manage.

As soon as Nero's head breached the opening, he sucked in an exaggerated breath as if he had been suffocating the whole time and fell over dramatically, forcing V into another fit of giggles that also had him on the floor.

The following games the boys played using their imaginations had very similar effects, with Nero playing eager dramatics that would lead V into either laughter or equally as dramatic monologues. There were pirates and space stations, a dragon on the moon, six-eyed skeletons belonging to a race of demons who went extinct "a bajillion years ago" trying to become cowboy outlaws, and so on.

The imagination of a child was endless, it seemed, and their playing made for quite the entertaining morning.

Lunch was an easy fix of pb&j sandwiches and a side of grapes. Much to your relief, V ate rather well, nearly finishing his half-sandwich and all but three grapes, of which Nero was happy to finish off for him.

When asked, yet again, if you were going to eat, too, you had to assure a very concerned looking V that you had something in your bag that you would eat later. Granted, it was just a protein bar, and after your quick and meager breakfast that morning, it definitely wouldn't be enough to fully curb your hunger. It felt impolite to partake in whatever they had in the fridge, however, so it would have to do.

Playtime resumed outside with chalk drawings for all of an hour before you began to notice V's sluggishness, despite his best efforts to keep up with Nero's near ceaseless energy. You suggested some quiet time in the main room -living room, or maybe it was considered an office?- and had no trouble getting V to climb up next to you on the worn leather sofa with a pillow.

Two minutes of stillness, and V was out like a light.

Keeping Nero entertained while his cousin napped was surprisingly easy, though you had a feeling this was a normal enough routine that he knew how to play quietly on his own so as not to disturb his cousin. Giving him a snack and asking him all sorts of imaginative questions while he nibbled on more grapes and cheese crackers occupied the next half hour.

When V joined you both in the kitchen with bleary eyes and the cutest little pout, you offered him a snack, as well, though all he was interested in was a small cup of juice.

Nero was more than eager to get back to their play, though with a little prompting from you, he was a bit more patient and waited for V to wake up fully. It didn't take too long for him to perk back up and ease into their make-believe world yet again, and you were subjected once more to their antics for a while longer.

At one point, the phone on the desk began to ring. You shushed the boys down just a bit as you answered with the business' name, just as Dante had instructed you to, and jotted down some details that seemed important from the possible client on the other end. When you finished, you turned back around to find a peculiar sight.

"A cat?"

The boys were both cooing at and petting a sleek black cat that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, its tail swaying in an inviting way as it sashayed back and forth between them. There had been no mention of a pet, no signs of treats or toys or a litter box of any sort - no signs of a cat in the shop at all, and yet, there it was.

Your mind immediately wandered to V and his allergies, suddenly concerned that he would have a flair-up. Vergil hadn't mentioned any allergies to animals, but it was still something you were wary of.

"Where did this little guy come from?" you questioned lightly as you came closer, though mindful in not scaring off the feline, lest it was hard to catch.

"She's a girl," Nero corrected quickly with a little glare and a miffed tone.

"Be nice, she didn't know," V scolded with a gentle tone, earning a puffy-cheeked pout from his cousin.

"Thank you for telling me," you told Nero, anyway, before turning your attention back to V as you crouched down. "I didn't know you guys had a cat. I haven't seen her around all day, and your dads didn't mention her at all."

"Shadow's special," V semi-whispered behind his cupped hand as if guarding his words like a secret.

"She likes to go off and play other places," Nero supplied, reaching for the cat's tail and giving a gentle tug that had Shadow swishing the sleek appendage about just a tad faster, not aggravated, just acknowledging.

"But she always comes back to us," V affirmed, immediately cooing at Shadow as she rubbed her head against his arm. "Papa says he found her one day on a mission, and they have a bond, now."

"Oh, that's very sweet," you crooned, smiling as you continued to watch the boys pet over the cat.

You paid especially close attention to V and his breathing, though even after a solid five minutes within constant contact of the feline, he seemed to be doing just fine. It gave you some relief, especially knowing that even Nero would have said something if V were to have had some sort of ill reaction. If you had learned one thing already, it was that Nero was highly protective of V in any and all aspects.

"Miss, I'm thirsty," V spoke up suddenly, those vibrant green eyes of his looking to you imploringly. "Can I have some water, please?"

You smiled and asked if Nero wanted something, too, before standing and making your way into the kitchen. The fridge didn't have one of those ice makers in it, though you remembered there being a filtered pitcher of water on the top shelf beside the milk, of which you made full use of.

Returning from the kitchen, your smile fell instantly as a look of absolute horror settled across your features and seeped into your very being. The cup of water slipped right through your fingers, clattering to the floor and garnering the attention of the creature that was hovering over Nero's prone form, its teeth bared.

"D-Don't move," you spoke out firmly to the boys, trying to will your voice from shaking as your mind caught up to the unexpected turn of events.

Were the boys hurt? How did that thing get in?

The large creature, almost resembling that of a black panther, must have taken your talking as invitation to continue whatever it was doing beforehand, a low rumble of a growl coming from its throat as it turned back to a struggling Nero.

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey, no!” you shouted, taking a few hurried steps closer in panic.

A hefty growl left the creature as it finally turned its full attention to you, the noise vibrating the air and causing your stomach to drop. It stepped away from Nero as it began to prowl its way toward you with purpose, fur shifting and lighting up with flashes of red runes within the pitch blackness as it advanced.

A demon, then?

Your instincts were telling you to get out of there, that you were in immediate, and rather obvious, danger. You were also highly aware of the two little boys whose lives were infinitely more important, and despite the fear that had your knees damn near collapsing in on themselves as you slowly backed up, you had to at least try and lead the creature away with the hope that the boys’ fathers would be home soon to save them, should you perish.

"That's it, come pick on me, you big, sharp furball," you muttered beneath your breath, eyes darting to the boys for a quick second.

Nero was sitting up, thankfully, looking rather confused but otherwise unmarred, and V was-

"V, no, stay back!" you shouted while throwing your hand up, stopping the boy from advancing any closer, those bright green eyes of his big and concerned.

Everything happened so fast, after that.

There was growling, a short, clipped roar, a scream leaving your lips as the creature leapt towards you. You met the floor rather hard, though it was to be expected when a demonic feline was two seconds away from tearing out your jugular.

Your eyes closed tightly, hands and fingers tangled in impossibly dark fur out of instinct to protect yourself. The creature loomed closer, a large paw pressing into your shoulder, hot breaths washing over your cheek as it leaned in-

And gave a warm, rough pass of its tongue over your cheek.

The sound that left your lips was most decidedly a whimper, though your body was still in the fight-or-flight mode when another lick was given to your face, the pass much longer and even going into your hair.

The panic slowly ebbed into confused wonder as a low rumbling sound started up from the creature, not a growl, but more akin to a purr that was so deep it nearly vibrated your bones.

And then the demon made itself comfortable and laid upon you, forcing a rush of air from your lungs you hadn't realized you were holding. You struggled to gasp a breath in at the sheer heft of the creature doing its very best at crushing your lungs as well as all your other body parts, absentmindedly letting out a very confused, very distressed noise at yet another turn of events you hadn’t seen coming.

What in the actual hell was going on?

"-dow! Shadow, that was very rude!"

At the sound of V’s angry little voice, you opened your eyes, blinking several times as you hesitantly looked up.

Several pairs of eyes were looking down at you, and it took a moment for you to register that Nero and V both were being held by their respective fathers. They must have just gotten home, perhaps right as the creature attacked you.

"Looks like you met the cat," Dante spoke suddenly, grin wide on his face.

Vergil's eyes cut to his brother with a glare, much more heated than the one V was giving to the demon feline that had made you its bed. Nero was pouting again, looking more put-upon than he had earlier, and Dante was every bit amused at your predicament.

You met the cat...

Wait.

Wait!

The cat was the demon the whole time?!

------

Tag List: @v-vic, @astridstark13

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dmc vergil #dmc nero #dmc v #dmc au #kid nero #kid v #babysitter au #reader #reader-insert #female reader

60 notes · View notes

trochantertales · 4 years ago

Photo

I won’t take up 30 posts with this but rather do it all in one sitting. It’ll be good to evaluate myself properly for the first time in awhile.

1. cw: 129 - haven’t done body measurements in a couple weeks. Will update soon.

2. 5′10″, Yes I’ve always liked being tall.

4. Doing permanent damage to my body.

5. I miss how I felt when I was in the depths of this years ago. I know that sounds crazy. But that time is almost romanticized. I had little real world responsbilities, I was reading and creating things, and in school, and meeting my favorite people, and thin, and working out, and excelling in my sports, and it was all so perfect. I want some of that back. I believe I’d feel more confident for myself and for my boyfriend if I was thinner now too. Elegantly thin. A sharp jawline and sleek collar bones, highlighted from the light leaking in from the window. Like being thin would suddenly make me profoundly interesting too...

6. No

7. No, They are aware of my past with restrictive eating and would be very concerned. They know I’m not eating sugar for health reasons but thats it.

8. Yoga, Spinning, Hiking, and try to run but Im not very good at it. (I aim for daily workouts, but I don’t always get that in. Although I just ordered a spin bike for my home!!!)

9. The only comment I can really recall was pre ED when I was less conscious of my body and my mom kindly pointed out my jeans were too tight because it was squeezing my hips out the top. I know it wasn’t anything critical or negative. She was trying to do me a kindness so I didn’t dress unflatteringly. And I am grateful for that. But more than any negative comments, I always was the skinny friend, and I longed for those comments to continue.

10. Eating out with friends. ED’s are incredibly lonely.

11. I can’t recall the blog or her username, but I can see her profile photo in my mind. She was quite popular on blogger back in the day. Looking for new blogs to follow currently if you have any great suggestions.

12. Nothing for breakfast. Smoothies or 1/2 veggie sandwich or granola bar for lunch. Veggies or small grilled chicken or eggwhite omlette for dinner. 1 small square of dark chocolate to satisfy sweet tooth.

13. Both. My therapist always told me I liked to play both doctor and patient. I like to skirt a fine line, I restrict (currently just minimal daily food, but in the past would fast for a day, or days, or a week, the longest was just over 2 weeks). I was unhealthy but never dipped into a place that was too dangerous. I never wanted to die. I just want to be thin. I also love to work out, so I find a balance between restricting and working out.

14. I think I’d like to be around 115 or 110. When I was down there previously of course I wanted to keep on losing. But I think thats a reasonable goal for myself.

15. Im mostly vegetarian. We only eat meat on occasion. I don’t notice too much of a difference between diets for me. I feel less heavy when I dont eat meat which I prefer. Eating meat is more of a rare indulgence.

16. End of high school. I worked at a cafe, and in the beginning it was a perk to be able to snack on things throughout the day for free. A muffin here, some chicken strips there, a small scoop of ice cream, grilled chicken salad... At some point after eating during the work day, I grabbed a plasic spoon and went on break and tried to purge. (Its not for me). After this, I decided my path would be focused on restricting. I remember going to my high school boyfriends house and telling him so proudly that I had only had a smoothie and a cliff bar the entire day. I was hooked from there.

17. Yes. My therapist was not one who liked the make an official diagnosis. Although she categorized me somewhere along the lines of EDNOS with Anorexia Nervosa tendencies.

18. Certain foods really stand out to me. My friends’ moms fried chicken. My fried tacos. Almost anything sweet. Chips. Perfectly buttered toast. They all represent something to me, but I’m relatively good at distracting myself now. Only rarely do I give in to these temptations.

19. It’s been over a year since I’ve had fast food (as in a drive thru business). The only one I really liked was Taco Bell (and chic fil a but stopped going there years and years ago for political reasons). Ever since I really focused on clean and organic foods, fast food hasn’t appealed to me.

20. A healthy diet of veggies and fruits is always nice and refreshing. A diet program I turn to most often is the ABC diet.

21. Pants (used to be 25, currently a 27/28). Shirt (a S but I prefer M or L for a baggy fit).

22. My lowest weight was around 110-113. I gained while in therapy several days a week and focusing on my passions in life. Things were going really well in my life and my need to control things was redirected into my athletic and creative goals.

23. Media has a large role in motivating me to remain sick. Im not so sure it was a role in me wanting to lose weight. Once I was ill I rewatched Girl Interrupted, Thin, Intervention, Whats Eating You, Super Slim Me, Supersize vs Superskinny, Biggest Loser etc. over and over and over again.

24. I don’t believe anyone who suffers from an ED is For any of this. I think it more accurately describes an individual as “actively-Ana” or “acitvely-Mia.”

25. I’ve only successfully purged once. As I said earlier, it’s not my thing. My friend who struggles more with bulimia suggested I could try using a toothbrush and tickle my tonsils. After a lot of gagging and sweat, I was able to purge a good amount of my meal. But I hated the idea of eroding my esophageal lining. And in the end, restricting was just easier for me. Tidier. More control. More discipline. Reflected my personality more.

26. A different kind of confidence, and a certain mentality that I truly miss in my creative process.

27. If I can avoid it like, avoid going into the kitchen to grab something, then its very easy. It tests me when sitting around a table filled with snacks. So if I can keep my hands occupied with a hydroflask of water, thats what I focus on. And I’m always in my head from the beginning of meal. Who am I wish. What are we eating. What else have I eaten today. What else do I have to eat today. How many calories is the meal. How many calories can I afford to eat. etc etc. And when I have a plan, I stick to it.

28. Yes. I’ve always had a thigh gap growing up and even through my 20s. Only in very late 20s and 30 have I felt the very top of my thighs rub together if I walk a certain way and it makes me feel seriously ill. I miss the days of standing with my feet tightly together, upright, butt tucked (not sticking out like IG influencers for better angles), and still having a gap.

29. Passionate Brilliant people with an unwavering sense of self.

30. Ill continue to update my stats, especially since I did this all in 1 go vs over a month.

5 notes · View notes

lonestarbabe · 4 years ago

Text

Good Morning and Good Night

(AO3)

Marjan wakes up to an empty stomach, and for just that split second, she is at ease. It is the end of July, and the Texas heat is dense in the air, humid and heavy, pinning her down in her bed even though the emptiness makes her feel so light that she could float away. She stays in bed for a while because the second she gets out, the fury of her day will begin. Her thoughts will begin to create a vortex in her brain, and by noon, Marjan will be completely lost in it, caught in the disorienting cycling of her daily life. When Marjan is in bed, she doesn’t have to think about breakfast, lunch, or dinner. She can pretend that she’s still asleep for just a half hour more before the thoughts come pounding into her brain whether she wants them to or not.

Eventually, as the sun moves further into the pale sky, Marjan knows she can’t keep prolonging the inevitable. The heaviness of the lie she is living hits Marjan as she swings her body into a sitting position and dangles her legs over the side of the bed. Everyone she knows thinks that she is a different person because this illness she has is one that, for the most part, goes unnoticed. She aches. She suffers, but it’s not something that she shares with anyone, and this thing that is such a big part of her life goes so unknown. Her real personality cannot even shine through.

The first word that many people use to describe Marjan is confident, and it’s a good defense. The sleek veneer of confidence eases people’s minds. They think that nothing can be wrong because as far as they’re aware, she’s got it all together. She seems so self-assured and driven, and in some areas of her life, she is, but in others, she’s paralyzed by the fear that she will never be good enough. Even so, she doesn’t want anyone to see that fear because if they did, they’d know how majorly her life is crumbling. Having a crumbling life is so far from perfect that she doesn’t even like to think about it.

It’s funny to Marjan that her problem is so bodily focused because she’s never been the kind of girl who cared that much about what she looked like. She liked fashion well enough. Make up could be fun, but what she wore and how she did up her face didn’t have anything to do with wanting to look pretty. They were just cool ways of expressing herself. But eating disorders weren’t about vanity, and as silly as it may sound, her eating disorder doesn’t have that much to do with her body. I don’t care what I look like. My body is just like a canvas. I treat it the way I do to express how I’m feeling inside.

Marjan heads down the hall and heads straight to the bathroom. She goes to the bathroom before she weighs herself because that 0.6 pound difference matters to her. She steps on the scale, and it fills her with dread to see the red numbers flicker to a weight that was .2 pounds heavier than her goal for that day. In the grand scheme of things, .2 pounds was nothing, but it didn’t feel like nothing. It felt like a failure and the worst kind of start to the day.

She skips breakfast because ever since she was a kid, she’s convinced herself that breakfast makes her feel sick, so she can’t eat it. It had been something her mom said once and Marjan had warped it to her own harmful purposes. She’d parroted her mother’s words, and they’d commiserated over the shared feeling of queasiness in the morning, but really, Marjan never felt sick in the morning. She just didn’t want to eat. Still doesn’t want to eat, and it’s been going on so long that she doubts she’ll ever want to eat. She does eat, of course. People have to eat, but she puts it off as much as she can.

Marjan gets ready for work, and she tries not to look at her body because if her eyes linger on any feature too long, she’ll get distracted, and she can’t be late for her shift. She hurries up and puts on her uniform, relieved that she never has to decide what to wear to work. She just chooses her uniform pieces and puts them together. She has more choices to make when she puts on her hijab, but those choices aren’t the same. They’re the kind of choices that make her feel comfortable with herself, so she puts her hijab on easily.

Work progresses easily. They have a few calls, but nothing too major happens. Not everyday is jam packed with action, and that’s a good thing. Marjan prays to have days like this when no major disasters happen. The biggest disaster that happens is lunch, which comes too quickly for Marjan’s liking. She chooses not to eat anything while the others get out their lunches and begin to eat them like normal people do. Marjan is not normal.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” T.K. asks as they sit at the table. If anyone sees beyond Marjan’s lies, it’s him. Marjan sees a lot of herself in T.K. They’re both good at acting like everything’s fine. They distract people with what’s really going on with levity and so many smiles. She’s not sure what he knows, but the way that he looks at her sometimes sets her on edge. Maybe she’s just being paranoid, but he’s the only one who ever looks like he doesn’t buy her bullshit excuses. Even Paul seems to not question her too much.

Most days, she tries to eat when she’s around people so that they don’t get suspicious, but every so often, she can’t help but try to get away with it, and she’s found that most people don’t go straight from “she’s not eating a meal” to “eating disorder.” For the most part, as long as they see her eat, they assume that she’s fine because people with eating disorders didn’t eat right? They just breathed in the air and wasted away as their bodies got absolutely no nutrition. Marjan knew she had a problem, but it was hard to take it seriously when she did eat. She ate plenty, in fact, but she never ate without agonizing over it. Eating didn’t feel natural or good for her, but she did do it. So, no one expected that there was a problem.

Marjan smiles. She can’t help it. It’s her automatic response to almost any feeling. “I overdid it at chipotle last night.” Well, technically, she’d overdid two nights before, but she is still trying to make up for her binge by eating as little food as possible.

“That was last night. This is today,” T.K. says.

“I’m okay, really. I’ll have a snack bar in a bit.” She won’t but they don’t have to know that. T.K. looks worried, but he doesn’t say anything more, and for that, Marjan is relieved. She can avoid this one last meal. She he’ll have to have dinner because skipping that will look disordered, but missing lunch is good.

Dinner. Marjan tries not to think of dinner as she heads home, feeling exhausted after her shift. It’s morning now, and the sun is already up, shining in her eyes with too much intensity. But she can’t stop thinking about dinner, even though it was over twelve hours prior. She hadn’t eaten a lot, but she had eaten too much, and now, she figures, she might as well not stop. She’s never going to lose weight. She’s already blown her diet, so now, she might as well just eat everything in sight because what’s the point of moderation? She’s either starving or gorging herself, and there’s no in between.

She stops at the store, and as she checks out her pile of junk food. She goes home, and she sits on the floor, all her food surrounding her in a circle. She knows she should resist the snacks and sweets, but she has no control. This is why she’ll never be thin. She stops trying to fight her hunger. She unleashes it on the food, and polishes calories upon calories. Her lips are sore from all the salt, and her stomach is so full that she feels like she might throw up, but she won’t. She punishes herself by not allowing herself to throw up. She has to sit with the shame and self-loathing.

She goes to bed with a full stomach, hoping that sleep will take the discomfort away and make her throat feel less scratchy— the corners of chips always scratch when she’s shoving them down without taking much time to chew. Tomorrow, she promises, I will not eat anything. She’ll only allow herself black coffee.

She wakes up two days later, and she feels light again. Two days of fasting will do that. She doesn’t want to get up, but the bathroom calls to her, and she pushes her heavy limbs up from the bed. She goes to the bathroom. She steps on the scale and sees that she’s down .8 pounds from yesterday. She wants the number to be lower, but she’ll take it. She gets dressed, refusing to look in the mirror. She puts on her hijab. She goes to work. She grabs a coffee and skips breakfast.

#my writing #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #fics #Elise Writes #triggers #my fics #marjan fics

4 notes · View notes

fairylightsandinsomnia-blog · 6 years ago

Text

School?

Okay so I know I talk way too much about how much school sucks and how I want to drop out and all that, and its like a “normal teenage” thing to hate school, but the American school system is SO fucked up and it pisses me off how adults don’t see it. First off, you have to wake up at around 6:00 in the morning, which is way too fucking early for anything. I don’t know if adults recognize this, but a part of puberty is changing sleeping patters, and one of the things about being a teenager is that your brain naturally wants to stay up later, and wake up later. This isn’t a rebellious act, but a normal fucking thing in teenage puberty that starts around 12-14. The recommended sleeping time for an adult is 8-10 hours, but because of the changed in the teenage brain, the sleeping time we should be getting is 10-12 hours of sleep.

Second of all, in order to maintain a healthy diet, the recommended amount of food you need, especially if you’re a growing fucking child, is breakfast, lunch, dinner, and 2 snacks in between each meal, which obviously isn’t a thing in school.

Third of all, I think teachers and school in general doesn’t pay attention to mental health at all. There have been so many times where I’ve had panic attacks from presentations in school, and anxiety attacks from reading out loud in class. But honestly what the fuck is that? Why the flying fuck do teachers make you read out loud in class? Its obvious that people get annoyed with slow readers and people who stutter or mispronounce words a lot, and everyone has a different reading pace, so listening to tons of different people’s voices and reading patterns makes it really hard to pay attention to what it is you’re reading. Stress is also a huge thing that almost everyone that’s in school has, but a major amount of stress can lead to mental illness, and an untreated mental illness can cause brain damage. The amount of tests, homework, and assignments we have is absolutely insane, and its almost as if every teacher thinks that their class is the only class we have, and we have no other school work to do. The amount of times teachers have told me that I was “lazy” and “not trying hard enough” its really disgusting, and damaging.

Also, what the actual fuck is standardized testing? There is no fucking way that can be healthy at all. Sitting a student in a classroom for 4-5 hours to do a big ass test, with no breaks? What a wonderful ass idea. School doesn’t even fucking test your intelligence, it tests your memory. You get a study guide, study, take the test, then forget everything. Not shit you know, but shit you remember. Its bullshit. No one goes to school to learn, they go to make a good grade. To pass the year, and then to pass that year, and the year after that, so on, so on. School is pretty much a competition, rather than a learning place and its pretty fucked up. School tells you how to do everything, and when to do everything. I failed every single writing test I’ve ever taken, because I didn’t use “key words”, or my paragraphs were “too long” or ‘too short”, and it makes no fucking sense, because If I know what words to use, correct punctuation, correct grammar, and I know what point I’m getting across, I’m a good writer then. Nah. Apparently not. In 5th grade, I started reading the Harry Potter series, and its a series that almost everyone in my family read, and everyone on my dad’s side is like obsessed. My school told me that I couldn’t read it because it was “above my reading level” even though I understood everything in the books. School tells you when you can go to the bathroom, and when you can talk, and when you can eat. It’s like you’re being controlled. School places a toxic image into young people’s minds that you have to get good grades to success, and you have to go to college and get a good paying job or else you’re not trying hard enough and it high-key pisses me off.

School don’t give a fuck either. In case I haven’t said it enough, school doesn’t care. Well, my school at least. So far we’ve had 2 suicides in our school district in just 2 years, and in the beginning of this school year, (as a result of the suicides), we had a huge assembly about suicide prevention. They talked to us about how every life mattered, and how if we see something we should say something. I’ve reported about 2 suicide threats, and the school did nothing other then asking the people if “they were okay”, and once they said yes, they let them go back to class. What the fuckkkKKK brO. Also, if you’re absent, the school emails your parents every class period you’re absent, telling them you’re not at school. They say its to stop students from “skipping class”, but its the dumbest shit ever. My parents get so annoyed at the school when they do that. If you have more than 5 unexcused absences, you legally can’t miss any more days of school which is pretty annoying. The only reason they do that is because they make money off of you but its whatever *sips tea*.

Anyways, I would go on but I’m too fucking tired. This started out with great wording and actual points being made, and it ended with me being annoyed asf lmao. School just gets on my nerves ya know. Anyways I’m tired I’m going to sleep and I’m gonna drop out, goodnight loves.

#school makes me wanna die lowkey.#school aint shit #fuck school bro #school gave me insomnia #but its whatever #yeehaw #*sips tea*

6 notes · View notes

sassycassie-s-writing · 6 years ago

Text

One PM Pajamas

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Final Fantasy XV/Prompto Argentum

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: Nothing. Just a cute scene in my head.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) Hopefully this reads as cute as it was when I imagined it.

^^^^^

When my doorbell rang at one in the afternoon, I really should have been prepared to answer it.

But was I?

Nope.

I was eating a Cup Noodle for lunch in my pajamas without pants on—just in my giant T-shirt and underwear. My hair had been brushed but that was it.

I crept to the door and peered through the peephole.

Confused, I opened the door just enough to peek around it, letting it get caught on the chain. “Prompto! What are you doing here?” I asked.

He beamed at me. “I need your advice,” he said.

“You sure that’s a good idea? Last time you took my advice you dislocated your shoulder.”

“I trust no one else with this question.” The seriousness behind the playful look he gave me convinced me. I shut the door, slid the chain to release it, and opened it again. I let it swing wide to let him in, pulling my shirt down to more securely cover my modesty.

“Well, if you’d called first, I could have looked like a normal person when you showed up. Let me put some pants on. Make yourself at home. Grab a snack and a drink if you want. Be right back.”

I headed down the hallway to my bedroom, still making sure my T-shirt was pulled down.

“Hey how come you’re in your jammies at one in the afternoon?” Prompto called jokingly.

“Buzz off!” I shouted, shutting my bedroom door to change. “Mimi and I stayed up till like three-AM watching makeup tutorials and trying to replicate them!” I shucked off my pajamas and pulled on a normal person outfit. Nothing fancy—it was Prompto. He’d known me since we were kids.

“Where is your roommate anyway? She gonna walk in on our secret discussion?”

“Decidedly not. She’s at work all day,” I said. “Hence why I'm eating a Cup Noodle in my pajamas at one in the afternoon.” I went back into the living room. Prompto was sprawled on the sofa, holding a bag of chips.

“What in Eos, gurl!” he teased, throwing a pillow at me. “You said you were putting on pants not a formal outfit!”

“Sweats and a T-shirt that’s actually in my size is not a formal outfit, Argentum,” I snapped, grabbing my Cup Noodle from the breakfast bar and plopping down on the sofa next to him. “Now what’s up?”

“I need your advice.”

“So you said. Carry on.”

“Okay. So. There’s this girl—”

“Ooooh! A girl! Prompto Argentum has finally succumbed to the endless stream of romcoms in his Chocoflix queue and fallen in love himself!”

“Shut up,” he muttered. His ears and cheeks were turning bright red.

I laughed and gave him a hug. “C’mon, Prom. You know I love and support you in all your endeavors. And that includes dating. I'm just surprised you’ve finally fallen for someone.” I crossed my legs and put some noodles in my mouth. “Now. What about this girl? What do you like about her? What do you want from your interactions with her? Are you going to ask her out?”

“Uh… she’s smart, funny, nice. Seems to actually care about me—which is, y’know, awesome. I don’t know. I’ve known her for a while and I just… well. I realized the other day that I was head-over-heels for her with no idea what to do about it.”

“So you came to me.”

“Well I would trust no one else with this information.” He gave me a mock-serious glance.

I laughed. “Okay. So do you want to ask her out?”

“Yeah… but I'm nervous that if I do, it’ll destroy our friendship. And I value our friendship a lot.”

I pursed my lips, jovial mood souring slightly. “That does put a damper on things. It’s a hard tightrope to walk, I’ll admit. Because feelings change things and knowing about someone’s feelings changes things. Like, if you liked her and kept it secret, you could just go on being friends and she’d never be any the wiser if you played it right. But if you told her how you really feel… well. There’s always the chance of rejection and then the awkwardness that comes after. Because you want to try to still be friends but she knows you want to be more.”

“So what do I do?”

“Honestly, Prompto, that’s up to you. I can’t make that decision for you. I feel like if you really like her and she seems favorable to the idea, you could ask her on a low-key, friendly sort of date. Which seems counterintuitive, I know. But, like, ask her if she’s seen that new movie and if she’d like to go see it with you. Or offer to grab lunch with her sometime to chat. If she agrees, you can try stepping it up. I don’t know, Prompto. I'm Miss Forever Single, remember?”

“Well… just tell me what you would want if some guy you’ve been friends with for a while suddenly asked you out.”

“Depends. Is he a creep that I’ve known for a while?”

Prompto sighed. “I hope not. Okay. Imagine it was me. You and I have been friends for… how long now? Twelve years? Since we were kids. What if I asked you out. Would you say yes?”

“Of course I’d say yes. It’s you. You’re like… the greatest, sweetest guy in all of Lucis.” I smiled and flipped some hair off my shoulder. “Any girl—actually, any person—would be lucky to snatch you up. Like, you are a catch, Prompto. And if this girl doesn’t see it… that’s her loss. Truly. You don’t have to start big, Prom. Just be casual. And be yourself. You’re awesome.”

Prompto regarded me thoughtfully, munching on some chips while I had another mouthful of noodles. “Thanks. I guess you’re right. Casual sounds really nice, actually. Like… less pressure, y’know?”

I smiled. “Oh yeah. And really, girls don’t always like fancy dates. Getting ready is a hassle and sometimes it’s awkward. I love chill dates. Like that blind date I went on a couple weeks ago. We literally went to the arcade in jeans and sneakers and stuff and played games. It was great. He smoked me at Skee-Ball but I beat him at Crossy Road. Like, that’s where the real fun and enjoyment is. To me anyway. Your crush might like being splurged on and pampered but ugh why.”

That made Prompto laugh. “No… I think she wouldn’t mind a casual date.”

“So go for it. We don’t get a lot of time on this planet. Sometimes we just have to shout YOLO while diving headfirst into the deep end.”

Prompto knew how much I hated the term YOLO for being annoying, but it got my point across and made him smile. He had such a bright smile. It always managed to make me happy just by seeing it. Which was probably why I had so many framed photos of the two of us in my room—though that was also because I got one every year on my birthday from him.

“You’re right. I think I will ask her out on a casual date.”

“Do it. And tell me how it goes!”

“Yeah. Yeah I will,” he said. He gave me a hug. “You’re the best dating coach in the world.”

“For being perpetually single?”

“Well, coaches don’t play the sport.”

I laughed. Prompto let me go and put the chips he got out of my cupboard away.

“I'm gonna call her on my walk home.”

“Tell me how it goes. Text me when you get home so I know you got home safe, ‘kay?”

“You got it, gurl!”

I ruffled his hair. He groaned and swatted at me like I was an irritating fly before heading for the door. We exchanged another hug and he left. I disposed of my Cup Noodles and went into my room so I could get some work done for Ignis before he started breathing down my neck. Mimi and I had a small study where we literally just stored books and the fancy desk my dad had given me when I moved out. I only used it when I was feeling really productive. I sat at the desk with my laptop and set to work.

I wasn’t sure how long I was typing up reports and council notes that Ignis had handwritten—thank the Six his handwriting was as neat as a computer font and perfectly legible no matter how fast he was writing—but I could feel the passage of at least a few minutes in a slight ache in my shoulder.

Out in the living room, my phone buzzed.

I sighed. “What now?” I muttered.

I got up and ran to get it.

Incoming Call: Prompto XD

“Hello?”

“Hey! Would you want to come catch a movie with me sometime? It doesn’t have to be anything formal.”

“Oh my word. Were you talking about me?!” I demanded.

All I got in response was laughter.

“Prompto Argentum! I cannot believe you asked me for advice on how to ask me out. I hate you so much that I love you right now. Of course I’ll catch a movie with you sometime. If I can get this stupid report of Ignis’ done, I’ll be free tonight.”

“That’s great! I’ll come pick you up at five-thirty?”

I laughed. “Absolutely. I’ll be ready.”

4 notes · View notes

ellanainthetardis · 6 years ago

Photo

It’s not easy to be a Slayer in training. Or a Watcher for that matter. Let me know your thoughts!

[ff] or [ao3]

Katniss wasn’t having a good day.

She was missing practice again.

And Gale wouldn’t stop asking questions. All day with the questions…

The whole school was buzzing about Cato and Clove’s disappearances and she couldn’t tell anyone that Clove, at least, was…

She kept staring at the house with a scorn on her face.

She had checked the address Haymitch – don’t call me Mr Abernathy when we ain’t in class, sweetheart, makes me feel like a dinosaur – had given her three times and there was no mistake: it was here. He was living in a big house fit to host at least four people, at the very end of the very classy suburbia that had been so expensive that even the wealthiest people in town hadn’t been able to afford it. It had long been abandoned – which was why most of the houses were empty and it looked like a ghost town up there. This, somehow, was a joke.

She had been debating between joke and nightmare since the previous night though.

After they were done eating their burgers, he had taken her to the woods for a patrol. A part of her had wondered if she was crazy to follow him up there where they would be alone and he would be able to do whatever he wanted with her before murdering her like the crazy person he obviously was.

They hadn’t found Cato but they had found the guy who tended to the cashing machine at the gas station. And he had been very intent on eating them for dinner.

Haymitch had been absolutely unhelpful.

He had leaned against a tree and had shouted instructions she had followed as best as she could. She hadn’t known she could fight before, not like that at least. But fighting, it turned out, had become instinctive and it made her body hum with the thrill of the hunt. The feeling when she had dusted that vampire had been incredible but it had only lasted a few seconds. Then her stomach had started churning again because it was uncomfortably and unfamiliarly full and Haymitch, instead of congratulating her, had told her she needed to up her game if she didn’t want to end up dead.

She had argued that she had killed three vampires in two days and he had barely gotten one.

He had replied that they were fledglings and that if they ever encountered a master vampire, they would both be in troubles. Apparently, age and power came hand in hand for vampires.

She needed to train.

He had told her that at least ten times. She needed to train, to become better, to become stronger, to become…

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to become. Not dead probably.

The thing with Haymitch… One second, she hated him. The next, she pitied him.

He was nasty and mean but half of that seemed to be an act and the other half self-preservation. She could relate.

Anyway, that was how she had ended up staring at a house that looked just as empty as its neighbors, in what could have been the wealthiest part of town if it hadn’t become the most decrepit. The house itself wasn’t in awesome shape. The grass was out of control in the yard and at least two blinds were broken and hanging against the outer wall. It looked just as deserted as the other ones.

She only knew it was the right one because there was a bike parked in the driveway.

Now, the bike didn’t look shiny or new but it looked in pristine conditions as far as she could tell – and she wasn’t an expert on bikes by any means. She knew it was a Harley because the brand was right there for her to spot, white words on the black paint.

The bike was the reason she had checked the address the last two times. She just couldn’t picture Haymitch on a bike, the same way she couldn’t picture him teaching her anything about fighting. Sure, he had dusted that vampire the night they had met and, sure, he had slammed his elbow in Clove’s face… But, then again, he had also gotten bitten.

The front door suddenly opened and Haymitch stood there, glaring at her. “You’re gonna stand out here all day or you’re gonna come in at some point? You won’t learn anything out there, girl.” She scowled but stomped her feet into the house, annoyed to have been caught staring. “Before I forget…” He thrust the vampyr book in her hands before he had even slammed the front door shut. “Homework.”

She placed it in her bag with a little more care than he had shown, still feeling an odd sense of belonging for that book, and kept quiet.

She was ill-at-ease.

She didn’t want to be there but he had said he would help with the money.

The way she saw it, since she didn’t have a choice, she might as well get as much out of this Slayer thing as she could get. She would hunt vampires down and train with him and, in exchange, he would get enough food to feed her sister and he would help her take care of the bills. It was like a job, albeit a dangerous one.

She followed him to the kitchen. There was a plate on the table with a sandwich on it and an unopened bottle of coke next to it.

“Eat.” he muttered, heading to the counter. He poured himself a cup of coffee and added some of whatever he kept in his flask into it.

She felt herself turn red. “I don’t need…”

“It’s just a fucking sandwich not a four stars meal.” he cut her off before she could finish her lie. “You’re gonna burn a lot of calories and I’m pretty sure you didn’t have lunch or breakfast. Eat.”

This time it was an order and, since it was in relation to the job, she could accept it without it being charity. She still regretted accepting Mellark’s piece of cake the previous day. He seemed to think they were friends now. He stopped to greet her in the hallways and chatted with her in Biology until Madge arrived and he never seemed to think it wrong or odd that she only answered by monosyllabic answers. Charity was dangerous.

She cut the sandwich in half and carefully didn’t notice that it had been made and not bought. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had fixed her a snack.

“Eat it all.” he grumbled when he saw what she was doing. “I’ve been to the shop. I have groceries you can take home.”

Her heart was racing again.

How much was risking her life worth? She couldn’t take too much or it wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be a business deal anymore. She couldn’t allow herself to depend on anyone because… It wasn’t just her, it was Prim too and when Haymitch would bail – because adults always bailed…

“Didn’t know being a teacher paid that much.” she shot out.

“Doesn’t.” he dismissed. “The teaching is just for cover. I hate it.” He shook his head. “Being a Watcher pays well and I’ve got few needs.”

“Why this house?” she asked. It was too big, too isolated and there was a musty smell in the air as if it had been closed up too long.

“’Cause I own it and it was easier than go real-estate shopping.” he deadpanned. “Now, stop playing twenty questions and eat your sandwich so I can kick your ass down a peg or two.”

When he led her down to the basement, after she was done eating the whole sandwich, she was very confident he wouldn’t be able to land so much as one hit. She remembered the feeling from the previous night, when she had been fighting that vampire… She had felt incredible. Like she was coming into her own. The power was hers and she had felt invulnerable. He, on the other hand, had no superhuman abilities, was old and, she suspected, a little drunk. Easy prey.

Haymitch had turned the basement into a gym of sort. There was a punching bag dangling from the ceiling in one corner, various weapons mounted on the walls and training equipment crammed into another corner. She inspected the swords and axes with curiosity while he dragged heavy looking gym mats to the center of the room. Some of the blades were rusty. She went over to the punching bag and realized it was a little saggy.

“I’ll get all that fixed.” Haymitch said when he saw what she was looking at. “Most of this stuff is outdated anyway. Start warming up.”

She revised her judgment. He hadn’t turned the basement into a training room. This stuff must have been around for decades.

What had he said about the house again? ‘Cause I own it. From one of the two times he had lived in the Seam?

“So you can shoot a bow.” he said, still arranging mats while she stretched like they did in PE. She felt more and more stupid. “What else?”

“Knife.” She shrugged. “Sometimes when you hunt, you’ve got to use one. I can toss one well enough.”

“Yeah?” he perked up. “Knives were kind of my specialties back in the day. Doesn’t work that well with vampires but they’re not the only bumps in the night. We’ll start with stakes.” He tossed one in her direction without pausing to check if she caught it or got impaled by it – she did catch it. “And your hand to hand combat skills ‘cause let me tell you… You suck. Come here.”

He didn’t bother grabbing a stake and she was a little scared she would hurt him with the pointy end of hers.

She was so confident she would win that it was a total surprise when she ended up flat on her back.

A fluke, she told herself. She was stronger than he was now. She was faster. She was the Slayer.

A few of her kicks and punches landed but mostly because he let her. To her speed and her strength, he opposed actual skills and that… That was harder to deflect. Every time he managed to hit her, he mocked her about what she was doing wrong.

She changed her mind about him not being a terrible teacher.

The third time she ended up on the floor, she decided she was done holding back her punches and she attacked with all she had. It still wasn’t enough to win but there were mistakes she knew she wouldn’t do again.

Underestimating her opponent was one of them.

It lasted for what seemed like hours. And when he finally declared they were done, well past the point where she could form a coherent thought, he handed her two groceries bags, told her to go home to take care of Prim and then meet him at the cemetery at eleven.

She grumbled a lot about it, mostly because all she wanted was a shower and to crash into bed, but he kicked her out the door while she was still protesting.

To make things worse, Prim jumped on her as soon as she crossed the threshold of the little trailer they lived in. “Where have you been? Gale called to ask why you were missing practice again. Have you been missing practice?”

She had wanted to avoid that particular conversation a while longer but there was no escaping her twelve year-old sister, her inquisitive blue eyes, or the demonic cat that followed her everywhere around their home but hissed at Katniss every time Prim’s back was turned. She needed to ask Haymitch about possessed cats.

She carried the groceries back to the kitchen, not surprised not to see their mother anywhere in the main area. She would have been surprised if their mother had been up. She was sometimes. She got up and made waffles and for a few hours she remembered she was supposed to be the adult around there, then she went back to bed, curled up on her side and refused to interact with anyone again.

“Where did you find the food?” Prim insisted, a frown on her small face. “Is that a real apple?”

How bad had things gotten that a twelve year-old was so excited to see an actual fruit? The fruits they ate tended to be dry and come with the cereals. She let Prim snatch the apple and couldn’t help but smile when she saw how delighted she was at the taste.

“The cheeseburger yesterday and now real food…” Prim continued, her mouth full. “Did we win the lottery?”

“I found a job.” she said. “I might not have time for the archery team anymore. I will explain to Gale tomorrow.”

Prim frowned and climbed on the wobbly stool. “But you love archery…”

“Yeah, but…” she hesitated. She did love shooting her bow and she was sure she would have plenty of reasons to practice. Hand to hand combat was all well and good but she didn’t see the point of going to contact if she could take care of the problem at a distance. This being said, Haymitch had been pretty clear her chance of surviving the year were slim. Never mind going all the way to college. She tried not to dwell on her suddenly short lifespan. There was only one thing that counted and that was Prim. “The job is more important right now. And we can finally have some decent meals.”

Her sister watched with an entirely too knowing look on her young face. “It’s not fair. You love practice. I don’t mind eating only cereals…”

“Don’t worry, little duck. The job is cool.” she lied, ruffling her hair.

Prim ducked away from her hand and fixed her braid, laughing a little. “Yeah? What is it?”

“Superhero.” Katniss teased, putting the groceries away.

“Come on, tell me.” her sister begged and she was soon distracted from the practice question by Katniss’ evasive answers about what kind of work she had found. And she was even more distracted by the box of chocolate chips cookies at the bottom of the bag.

She thanked Haymitch for that one.

At least until she found herself roaming the cemetery later that night.

It was creepy and wrong in all kind of ways. Haymitch lectured her about how to spot the suspicious deaths in the paper in a bored voice while they walked between two rows of fresh graves. Then, he left her alone with a freshly resurrected vampire and watched her struggle against him. He didn’t lift a finger to help, not even when the vampire slammed her against a headstone that broke on impact and left her stunned on the ground. The vampire closed in and she was pretty sure she was going to be the new record for shortest Slayer alive when the demon disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Haymitch was frowning down at her with a very displeased expression.

“You’re too cocky and I won’t always be here to save your ass. You could have taken him if you had been paying attention in training earlier.” he declared.

“I thought you were supposed to give me some advice.” she snarled, jumping back on her feet just to show off.

“You want some advice? Here’s one.” he sneered “Stay alive.”

That concluded that particular day of lesson and set the tone for what happened during the next two weeks.

Katniss’ life had fallen into some kind of routine.

Every day she woke up, she fixed Prim’s breakfast – with actual healthy food now – she went to school, tried to awkwardly deflect Gale’s pressing questions and Peeta’s more and more frequent friendly conversation, went over to Haymitch’s house after school was over, invariably wondered if the bike was his or if he was keeping it for a friend because she had never seen him on it yet, ate whatever snack was waiting for her in the kitchen, pointedly ignored the empty bottles of liquor and the fact that his house was slowly turning into a dumpster of sort, trained with him in the basement to whichever form of torture he had picked that day – hand to hand, sword fighting, pointless exercises of meditation that seemed to annoy him just as much as it did her… – then she would go home to spend some time with Prim, sneak out once her sister was asleep to go roam a cemetery of Haymitch’s choosing, argue with him, kill a few vampires, argue with him some more, and go home to crash in bed.

Rinse and repeat.

Until that Thursday morning when a shadow suddenly fell across the yellowish page of the vampyr book she was painfully trying to study and she looked up, startled, to find Peeta Mellark awkwardly standing there. She was hiding behind the bleachers outside the football field. It wasn’t the smartest hidden place but it had served her well so far.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

“Just some… novel.” she lied.

Before she could do anything, he had snatched the book as if it was the most natural thing to do.

“Vampyr…” he read. “I didn’t know you liked that sort of stuff… What is it about? Is it like Twilight or…”

She was on her feet before he even registered she had moved and had grabbed the book back.

“It’s nothing like Twilight.” she spat. That much, she was sure of. Unlike Twilight, a good vampire didn’t seem to exist. Once a human was turned, they lost their soul. And without a soul to guide them, there was only the demon. And demons weren’t nice. “What do you want?”

He seemed taken aback and flashed her a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you… I just saw you and…”

“I have to go.” she snapped.

She ran away before he could offer whatever pastry he had probably brought along for her that day. She wasn’t in the mood to see him make a kicked puppy face when she would refuse and she was in any less of a mood to accept a little more of his pity.

Besides, she was annoyed he had seen the book. She would give it back to Haymitch for safekeeping, she decided. She didn’t dare leave it at home, too afraid Prim would accidentally find it and either figure it all out or have her committed. But it was clear it wasn’t any safer to bring it at school.

Haymitch was pretty insistent on rule two. He kept saying if you got innocent people involved, they inevitably got hurt. And she didn’t believe he was wrong on that front.

She would give the book back to him later, she decided.

“What did Mellark want?” Gale asked, suddenly falling into steps with her as if they had been walking together all along.

She didn’t startle. Because she was the Slayer and Haymitch had been ranting for two days about how she should always be aware of her surroundings at all times. He liked to repeat she was oblivious. She hated it when he was proven right.

“To talk. I don’t know. Why?” she muttered.

“Rory says you’ve quitted the team because you found a job?” he insisted - like he had more or less every day for the last two weeks.

She got mad and stormed away without even bothering with a lie.

Clearly, boys were incapable of understanding subtle messages though.

Madge arrived early to Biology for once and they were making awkward small talk when Peeta stopped in front of their bench, interrupting them with his greeting. He looked nervous and Katniss frowned.

“Hey again” he said with a smile that seemed a little forced. Katniss frowned. Madge looked from her to him, clearly amused by… Katniss wasn’t sure. Apparently, neither Madge’s amusement nor her own silence mattered because Peeta soldiered on. “I was wondering if you had gotten the text? About the party?”

Katniss wasn’t even sure he was talking to her anymore. She glanced at Madge who helpfully nodded.

“I did.” she confirmed. “But I’m not sure I can come… My parents don’t like me going out after dark and The Capitol…” She shook her head, her blond curl bouncing around. “I don’t know… Are you going, Katniss?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” she admitted because it seemed like the quickest way to put an end to the conversation.

The Capitol was a fancy very posh hotel situated in the middle of a meadow, not too far from the northern border of the woods. She could have saved money for ten years and she was pretty sure she still wouldn’t have had enough to pay for one night. It was for wealthy tourists who came to hike in the woods and the surrounding mountains.

“Oh…” Peeta exclaimed, half-relieved and half-disappointed. “We sent a text to everyone. It’s an open invite party… Glimmer’s dad rented The Capitol for the night on Saturday… I was hoping… I mean… I could be your ride. If you need one.”

“A party?” she repeated, stunned. She had never gone to any party. She was never invited to any party.

“I mean, like I said, it’s open to everyone… You can come with whoever you want…” Peeta rambled on. “Are you coming with Hawthorne, then? You two are going out, right?”

“Going out?” she kept repeating, feeling like a dumb parrot. “With Gale?”

“So… You’re not?” he insisted.

Katniss had never been so relieved to see their Biology Teacher. Miss Tigris might have been extremely weird but she was still less weird than this conversation.

“I could drive if you want to go and you don’t want Peeta to pick you up.” Madge offered. “I’m pretty sure my parents might let me go if I tell them I am going with a friend… Besides, with all those people disappearing… It would be safer to stick together, don’t you think?”

She was a little too shocked at having been called Madge’s friend to react in time.

Madge looked too hopeful, like she really wanted to go. Katniss had zero interest in going to a party at all but she couldn’t find it in her to crush her dreams after being called her friend. So she said she would think about it.

She was so angry and frustrated that it was actually a relief to direct all that at dummies during training. All the vampires were very sorry to have crossed her path that night during patrol.

Haymitch actually praised her.

Well, he said ‘Good job, sweetheart’ but it was the best she had gotten so far. Not that she cared what he thought about her but… Yeah. It was good to know her Watcher believed at least a little in her.

Of course, that feeling of satisfaction didn’t last long. The next morning, Madge stopped next to her locker while she was talking with Gale – awkwardly avoiding more questions. She introduced them because she couldn’t remember if they knew each other or not and then she regretted it when Madge immediately asked if she had thought about going to the party the next day.

“You’re going to Mellark’s party?” Gale scoffed in utter disbelief.

“It’s not Peeta’s party, it’s Glimmer’s.” she corrected through clenched teeth. Gale had been hitting on her nerves for days at this point. He was her best friend but he was also being a pain, refusing to respect boundaries she was trying to put in place for his own safety.

“Oh, sorry… It’s Peeta now?” he mocked.

“Why are you like that?” she snapped. “He didn’t do anything to you.”

Gale stared at her, gaping a little, and then he chuckled. “You’re joking, right?” She was being totally serious and her face must have reflected that because he sighed. “You can be so blind sometimes…”

“And you’re a pain in the ass.” she snapped, shut her locker door and stormed away to her Math class, grumbling under her breath.

Her mood wasn’t uplifted by the fact Peeta tried to catch her eyes at several points during the day. She was so desperate to avoid both boys that she lingered in the classroom after her History lesson.

Haymitch studied her for a second, closed the classroom door and sat down on the desk next to hers. “Spill.”

Katniss’ scowl only deepened. “Why are boys so stupid?”

That clearly wasn’t what her mentor had been expecting. Maybe he had thought she had found something demonic. Too bad. It was just about her sucky life.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the ceiling with a sigh. “That’s something about taking care of teenage girls I haven’t missed… Katniss, let’s make something clear. I ain’t gonna advise you on your boys troubles.”

“You don’t advise me on much.” she complained. “Mostly you shout and insult me. You’re sure you passed your Watcher degree or whatever?” She made a face. “And it’s not boys troubles. It’s just my stupid best friend who’s upset because that other boy – who I kind of owe ‘cause he gave me bread one time or two – invited me to a stupid party.”

“Your best friend likes the boy?” he asked in a long-suffering tone. “That qualifies as boys troubles.”

“My best friend is Gale. You know, Hazelle’s son. And he hates Peeta for whatever reason.” she explained. “Try to keep up.”

He glared at her a little but, mostly, he looked amused. “Your best friend who’s a boy is upset because another boy invited you to a party and you can’t figure out why? Maybe I do need to give you some advice after all, sweetheart…” He waved his hand. “You’re not going to the party anyway. You’ve got to patrol. Problem solved.”

“Yeah, but that’s not that easy.” she retorted, ignoring that last part. Nobody had said he was in charge of what she did or didn’t do outside of slaying duties and she didn’t like the thought he believed himself entitled to refuse her the permission to go out. “‘Cause my only other friend aside from Gale…”

“Boy or girl?” he cut her off.

“Girl. Madge.” she clarified before going on. “She wants to go and her parents won’t let her unless I go with her… So, you see, I think I should go even if I really don’t care about a stupid open-invite party…”

He must have been getting bored with the conversation because he startled. “What did you say?”

“About which part?” she deadpanned. She was pretty sure he wasn’t that interested in her life problems. He was barely interested in her when it wasn’t about training. “I guess you’re right anyway. I don’t have time to go to a party.”

“You’re going to the party.” he argued.

She frowned. “Can you make up your mind? You just said…”

“Open invite?” he scoffed.

“Peeta said they sent a text to everyone…” she confirmed. “It’s open to all.”

He was watching her, waiting for her to make a connection. When she didn’t, he rolled his eyes. “Fangs included? They need permission to enter a private place but an open invitation will do the trick just as well and the town’s crammed with them… They won’t resist that kind of free buffet.”

He really didn’t look pleased about that.

“It’s at The Capitol.” She waited to see if he knew what that was and when he nodded, she went on. “They could have gotten in anyway. A hotel isn’t private property, right?”

“Right.” he sighed. “Still. Now we know… You’ve got to go. Sacred duty to protect the innocents and all that jazz…”

He didn’t seem pleased about that either.

“Don’t look so glum. I can handle a few vampires.” she grumbled.

“Without me as back-up?” he challenged. “We’re gonna have to hope so, yeah? Cause I don’t think I can blend in with teenagers. Congrats, sweetheart, you’re going on your first solo mission. Try not to set yourself on fire, this time.”

#everlark #haymitch abernathy #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #thg fanfiction #thg buffy au #katniss the vampire slayer series

31 notes · View notes

wisechildstrawberry · 4 years ago

Text

When Bryan and I were in the hospital the month of February last year, I kept everyone updated through Facebook because it was easier to do a mass post than update everyone individually. I also journaled because I knew I wanted to remember everything at some point. As a result, I had a hodge-podge of posts during that crazy month. Given my innate desire to constantly self-evaluate, I put it all together in a coherent timeline so I could review it.

Cystic Fibrosis sucks in so many ways. Bryan was lucky. He lived way beyond the normal life expectation out of sheer stubbornness. Our story still ended way too soon. I still am trying to figure out where my place is in all this and where I go from here. My hope with these blog posts is that it will help me sort through my feelings, that it will help me heal, and that it may help someone else. It’s long, and full of medical mumbo-jumbo, but there you have it.

The Facebook and journal posts are italicized. 💜

February 4, 2019

And just like that, our pre-transplant testing at Vanderbilt is canceled. 😞

We had to check into Baptist East which effectively canceled our plans to drive up to Vanderbilt to go through the process of getting put on the kidney transplant list. We had already gotten so close to being placed on the one here at Methodist that we could taste the freedom from dialysis.

February 5, 2019

We originally got these for our road trip to Vanderbilt (because see the first photo) and now that the road trip is no more, they turned into great hospital snacks. I can’t stay out of them. I may need an intervention…

One of the things I loved about this man was that he was on the same wavelength as me when it came to road trips. Rule #1 – When packing for a road trip, it’s an absolute necessity to bring enough snacks to feed an army. Rule #2 – They can’t be healthy. Rule #3 – You can’t have any leftovers by the time you get home.

February 6, 2019

Keep the prayers coming! We’re still here at our unconventional vacation home, drinking all the coffee, eating all the snacks, and watching way too much TV.

February 7, 2019

We’ve been in the hospital since Monday evening. I spend the nights with him and his days are filled with tests, pills, nurses, and pain. A nagging place on his leg that wasn’t responding to antibiotics landed us here. Once we were in a private ER room, they did an ultrasound and found the blood clot. It runs the entire length of his leg; similar to the one he had two years ago the day after his surprise 50th birthday party. When people ask how Bryan is doing, I’m tempted to ask, How much time do you have? They’ve been pumping him with blood thinner. They were pumping him with a couple of different antibiotics, but that has appeared to stop. They set him up on dialysis every night. It’s hard to tell which is worse, the pain from the dialysis sucking the fluid off of him or the pain from the mysterious sore on his leg. He has a mid-line pic and an IV in the same arm and his arm has swollen up in such a way that would make Popeye proud. They ran an ultrasound on it and thankfully, it came back negative for blood clots. The food is okay. His appetite is off and he has so much going on that it’s hard to pinpoint what’s knocking it out of whack. He’s taking a pain pill to alleviate some of the pain. The doctors come in late in the evenings to check in. A dermatologist came in last night to pick samples off of both of his legs to send to pathology to be biopsied. More pain. And stitches. So now we wait. We’re waiting for the biopsy results to come back so we know how to move forward. We’re waiting for the blood clot to go down. This is just another hurdle in the CF life. We’re going to jump it and keep moving forward. Keep the prayers coming, keep the visits coming, and keep the texts and calls coming. They’re good for Bryan and to be honest, they’re good for me as well.

The dermatologist was such a sweet man and very no-nonsense. He came in and did his thing, barely batting an eye while making pleasant conversation with us.

February 8, 2019

I’m probably the only person in the world who has to watch a video on how to use this thing. After trying to use it with the cap on. 🙄😂

The beginning of hospital brain.

I have the utmost respect for nurses, but I’m about five seconds away from giving our nurse whatfor. We’ve had great nurses all week, then I get up here to the hospital room and barely get sat down before she comes in and proceeds to inform us that Bryan needs to eat and she’s not waiting an hour and we need to make this happen. Girl. Don’t. Even.

via GIPHY

That’s one of the problems with the shift changes. Nurses come in who don’t know what’s going on and there’s a few who think bullying through is how to get people to do the things they need them to do. There’s no telling what this poor nurse thought of us.

February 9, 2019

The nurse from hell apparently doesn’t work weekends. I snuck down to the cafe to get the biggest coffee imaginable and breakfast. They have a pretty decent breakfast down here. They had Bryan do five cycles of dialysis yesterday and again last night so he’s been on dialysis for I guess about 16 hours. His potassium (or is it the phosphorus) has been high-about 7 when it’s supposed to be between 3.5 and 5. His blood sugar has been wonky which is pretty typical. His blood pressure has been high which is pretty typical with the dialysis and the blood clot. We didn’t hear anything about the results of the skin biopsy. I don’t know if the doctors come through on the weekends or not. For now, I’m taking my now halfway caffeinated self back up to the room.

The Yellow Sock Club. I couldn’t pack my pajamas without including these awesome things. 😎

Anyone who has had a transplant or has a chronic illness that requires multiple hospital stays belongs to the Yellow Sock Club. It’s not a very fancy club, but you do get pairs of awesome yellow socks and while they don’t allow you to slide across the floor Tom Cruise/Risky Business style, they do keep you from falling on your ass on slick floors. So there’s that.

February 10, 2019

Dealing with the doctors surrounding Cystic Fibrosis and all the issues stemming from it is like dealing with a baseball lineup-everyone plays but comes up to bat at different times. Up to bat now is the nephrologist who is currently on vacation in Iceland.

via GIPHY

There are a few advantages to being in the hospital for a week. I finally figured out how to operate the motion-detected ice machine and can dispense water and ice like a pro without a single drop spilled. I figured out the good food in the cafeteria is served at lunch and if you wait long enough in the evenings, you get free food. Contraband is Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and alcohol. They’re considered evil, but caffeine is thrown around like an Oprah freebie. I’ve been a little grouchy and Bryan’s been a little grouchy. Some nights I sleep better and some nights he sleeps better. Sometimes I’m talkative and he just wants to sleep. Sometimes he’s talkative and I’m too tired to put a sentence together. I rub his feet and give him professionally dispensed ice and he gives me sweet kisses and that cute little smile. I’m learning that when someone with a chronic illness is hospitalized, you don’t come out cured. You come out with a game plan for how to move forward and you hold on to the optimism that you are in control of the quality of your life. We are holding on to that optimism because you only get one life and you get to choose how to live it. We are choosing to live life because God blesses each one of us with one life and the freedom to live it how we see fit. Keep the prayers coming!

February 13, 2019

Watching the sun rise on Day 9 of our hospital stay with my styrofoam cup of pretty decent coffee. We have a diagnosis that I will gladly share via message, but we also have a plan. We’re switching from peritoneal dialysis to a combination program of hemodialysis and an IV of sodium thiosulfate. His bloodwork came back within the range we needed to have the perma-cath put in this morning sometime. We asked the nurse when they would know the time of the procedure and he responded, “We typically find out when we get the call from downstairs saying, we’re sending the transport team up now.” Another thing I learned in the hospital. There is no planning your day. Ever.

February 14, 2019

Attempt #1 at a perma-cath was a failure because he’s had so many port catheters put in over the years that they can’t get one in his chest. Attempt #2 was supposed to happen earlier this morning, but his nephrologist wanted him to do one more cycle of peritoneal dialysis. Bryan wanted to refuse it because he didn’t want to miss the window for surgery. The result? He missed his window for the surgery and now we’re waiting for them to find time to fit him in. They just didn’t listen. He didn’t have much dinner, no breakfast, no lunch, and we’re hoping his blood sugar holds steady long enough to do this. We’re also hoping it happens quickly because hemodialysis takes 3-4 hours and doing THAT late at night won’t exactly be thrilling. Bryan is getting ready to pinch somebody’s head off after this morning. I’m about ready to pinch somebody’s head off. There’s a difference between refusing treatment because we’re being ornery and refusing treatment because we’re trying to keep things on schedule. Bryan’s spent his entire life dealing with hospitals so he knows a bit how things work when too many people are involved. This is one of those days where there’s just too many roosters in the hen house.

via GIPHY

The perma-cath is in and he’s doing just fine. He’s downstairs doing his first round of hemodialysis and sodium thiosulfate which left me time to wander down to the cafeteria to see what’s for supper. My next hospital discovery: they do it up big for Valentine’s Day:

February 15, 2019

So this morning has already been eventful. We discovered what the fire alarm sounds like (apparently some jackwagon on the 4th floor thought it was a great idea to smoke in the bathroom). We also watched in disbelief as the breakfast cart glided right past our room (think of how you felt as a kid when you just missed the ice cream truck) without stopping. Bryan was like, oh hell no! The desk secretary was sweet enough to grab a plate for him while I was downstairs grabbing him some food as well so Bryan got double breakfast today. We haven’t heard when we’ll get to leave, but we’re hoping soon.

via GIPHY

Well, shoot. We’re stuck in here another night. That’ll be 13 nights in the hospital. Boo!

via GIPHY

When the fire alarm goes off (again), what do we do? Drink our hot chocolate, watch our basketball game, calmly eat our chicken, and snooze. As our nurse told us, what else are we going to do? 😂

I originally had a video showing this. You can plainly hear the fire alarm going off while we’re all calmly doing our thing. I didn’t think it was probably a good idea to show it since it was in a hospital. I figured there’s a rule out there somewhere forbidding that.

February 16, 2019

Hemodialysis was scheduled for 9. Dude shows up at 7:30. The nurses are scrambling, trying to get his mountainous pile of morning meds together (it’s always amusing to watch them when they realize just how many there are 😂 ), figure out how they’re going to get breakfast to him, and navigate around who is now in the room: two nurses, the dialysis dude, the PCA, a doctor from the cardiovascular group, and the bed which is now cattywampus. It’s a circus in here and I haven’t even had my coffee yet.

Chaos Bei Dunder Mifflin GIF from Chaos GIFs

February 17, 2019

One side effect of the hemodialysis is violent nausea. I think all the food he ate yesterday, along with whatever meds that didn’t absorb, are now in blue bags in the garbage. We’re trying to manage pain and figure out how to minimize the nausea. As of right now, we don’t have a discharge date. The board says February 19th which right now would be an awesome birthday present, but we’ll see. The doctors want to get his blood levels regulated, get his swelling down, and get insurance to approve the outpatient sodium thiosulfate IV (a daily dose is almost four months of my salary 😮). Please keep the prayers coming.

February 18, 2019

I didn’t post a Facebook status here, but I did journal:

Bryan dreams about sports. Mainly soccer. He organizes the teams in his mind and coaches the players, gesturing with his hands. Then, he wakes up and glances over at me sheepishly to see if I’m watching. He smiles that silly little smile of his. “I was dreaming.” Hospitals are shitty places to make final memories. I want us to be able to go sit in a park, on a blanket, making organic conversation that doesn’t involve what pills are working and which ones aren’t; where we can smell the lovely outdoorsy smell of trees, grass, and blanket, not the smell of the things inside him that are slowly killing him. I want to crawl up in the hospital bed with him and snuggle. Just the simple act of snuggling washes away so many cares. He finally researched calciphylaxis thoroughly enough to know that he may not make it out of this alive. We’ve been sitting here talking a little bit. While we were watching a basketball game, he gets out his phone and looks a few things up. A few minutes later, he declares, “I bet I have peritonitis.” The cloudy dialysis, the distended belly, the feeling of always being full, the nausea, the slight fever. It makes total sense. The best part? It’s firing him up. Especially after I got a little miffed myself and made the comment that we have gone an entire year and successfully avoided peritonitis only to contract it in the hospital when they did the peritoneal dialysis themselves.

February 19, 2019

Thank you so much for all the birthday wishes. Once we break out of the hospital, I foresee a Muddy’s cupcake in my future to celebrate. We’re on Day 16 now (I had to go back and count the days). Bryan’s been about the same. The doctors are figuring out the whole fluid retention/blood thinner issues/general pukiness thing. We were hoping to get out of here today which would’ve been an AWESOME birthday, but that’s okay. He’s where he needs to be while they get things figured out. The nurses who showed up today are the same ones we had towards the beginning of this ordeal which made me deliriously happy. I would’ve hugged them, but that would have been weird.

via GIPHY

February 20, 2019

Bryan now refers to the pain pill as “the one that f**ks up your dreams”.

I have to share my journal post that shows what happened after Bryan made that statement:

Bryan woke up this morning and asked me to check his bag for his car keys. When I said, sure, why? he said he was afraid he had dropped them on the ground after he got out of his car last night. I said, Honey, you didn’t drive last night. You’ve been in the hospital. He responded back saying he had the most vivid dream last night, he dreamed he had gone to Target and left his car and the nurses took it and drove away in it. He still wanted me to check his bag for his car key.

February 21, 2019

So we had a bit of a room change. We’re in ICU. His blood pressure dropped and oxygen levels dropped and they’re trying to figure out what’s going on. On the agenda tomorrow is a broncoscopy and a few other things. For now, he’s stable. I lost my couch so my bed is two chairs pushed together. At least the TV is bigger. Keep the prayers coming, please. We’re going to have an active couple of days.

Would anyone happen to have a lightweight small camping cot I could borrow for the next night or two? ICU doesn’t have anything.

Today was bronchoscopy day. Those of you who know Bryan well know that he has bucked at the prospect of a bronchoscopy for years. He caved this time. They did it and he spent the day resting. He was so lethargic. About 5 this evening, he was sleeping, would quit breathing, and we would have to wake him up and remind him, hey dude, breathing’s kind of important around here. It was similar to sleep apnea. They fitted him with a ventilator. They tried doing the one that doesn’t go down the throat, but the tube that’s pulling the stomach bile out wouldn’t allow for a tight fit so we went with the regular ventilator. He’s sedated and resting comfortably. They’ll check in tomorrow and test him to see if he can breathe on his own. For now, I feel better knowing he’s breathing, knowing that it’s temporary (the ventilator, not the breathing. Lol), and knowing that he’s getting enough rest in order to gear up for the next battle round. Y’all, I cannot express my gratitude and love enough. All the prayers, the calls, the texts, the visits, the little favors, have made this whole process bearable. Keep up the prayers and we’re facing tomorrow with our game face!

via GIPHY

The next couple of days after my birthday were a bit scary. I didn’t journal the process of what initially landed us in the ICU because to be honest, it scared the hell out of me. It was a blur of his numbers dropping, of nurses in and out, of them putting an NG tube in. The first girl couldn’t get it in. They grabbed another girl to do it who was a total angel (they actually all were angels) so we had nurses handing him things, nurses putting things in him, and there I am in the middle of it all with Bryan’s puke bag and providing the NG nurse ninja with an extra set of hands. We finally got the tube in him and got him over to ICU. We never left the ICT Here’s a bit of my journal entry for the 21st:

Today they bathed him. He’s been in and out of consciousness. [Our associate rector] came by this morning while [his mother] and [his brother] and I were in the conference room while they bathed him. We went back in and [our associate rector] anointed him and prayed over him. We went down to eat while they did the bronchoscopy. [His brother] was impressed with the updated cafeteria. When we came back up, they had finished and he was resting. I went home to shower and to pick up my glasses. When I got back, he was still in and out, but mostly out. I settled into my chair. Suddenly, I noticed his oxygen level dropping. It was dropping pretty quickly, so I grabbed a nurse. She ran in, saw the numbers dropping, hollered for a crash cart, and tried to wake him up. He woke up, she told him to breathe deeply, and he started breathing again. A few minutes later, the same thing happened. Our day nurse, B, said he may have to be put on a ventilator. They brought one that didn’t have to be put down his throat – one that just fit over his face. They couldn’t get it around the tube that was pulling the stomach bile out of his tummy. One of the doctors came in and suggested putting the ventilator with the tube in him and I agreed. He’s now sedated and resting. They’re doing hemodialysis on him. They’re going to try and see if he’ll breathe on his own tomorrow and see if he can have the tube taken out.

February 22, 2019

Day 19 of our hospital stay. The ventilator tube is out! He’s breathing good so apparently it was just the light anesthesia he was given for the bronchoscopy (add that to the growing list of things he’s sensitive to). We haven’t heard anything about the results of the bronchoscopy yet. His white blood count is crazy high. They were able to get a second IV in him so he now has an IV and midline pic in his left arm and an IV in his right. Everyone meet my husband, the human swiss cheese. That nurse was awesome, though. He used an ultrasound to find a place to put the IV. The main battle right now is getting the lungs back up to par. He has some fungus in them, light pneumonia was mentioned, and when he was getting the ENT line put in (through his nostrils to his tummy), he urped and some of it went into his lungs which is why we wound up in the ICU to begin with. Then, they’ll deal with the blockage in his intestine. There’s lots of other things going on that the doctors seem to find on a daily basis, but we’re just dealing with them as we can. He’s getting hemodialysis today. He got it last night as well. I can’t be in the same room when they do the procedure and it takes about four hours so I had time to come down to the cafe to grab a bite to eat. The hemodialysis helps to heal the places on his leg and helps with his creatinine levels. I have learned more medical terms in the last two weeks than I have in my entire life. I’m discovering one of my favorite places to sit and eat in the hospital isn’t in the cafeteria – it’s in the front lobby area. The eating area in the cafeteria is quiet and mundane. Everyone is focused on eating and the reason they’re in a hospital café in the first place. The lobby is active. Everyone walks with a purpose. I see people lugging suitcases, books, pillows, flowers, and food. Doctors and nurses walk more slowly in than they do coming out. Man, you ain’t seen a purposeful walk like the walk of a doctor or nurse trying to get out of the hospital. It’s like they’re afraid they’re going to get stopped by someone before they’re able to escape out of the front door. I totally get that, but the evil person inside of me wants to stop one just for the sheer fun of it and pretend I need to ask them a question (I apologize for nothing). The other reason I like sitting in the front lobby are the couches. My poor tush just sinks down into that couch. There’s a lot of chatter – white noise. We are hoping. We’re hoping to get stabilized so we can get back into a regular room. We’re hoping we can get healed up enough to go home to continue the process. This is the hope John Sewell had talked about all those years – hope, in spite of the facts.

As always, please keep up the prayers. Pray for healing, pray for both of us to have strength when we think we don’t have enough, pray for us to have peace regardless, and pray for the doctors and nurses who have their hands full with our case, but who continue to shower us with their uplifting attitudes and competent care.

I have a little more to add from a portion of my journal for that day:

Dr. M came in and said his white blood count was in the 3000s rather than the 100s. He’s not sure why. The IV in his right arm blew and they put another one in using an ultrasound. That one blew. They tried again and got it. They gave him a breathing treatment. The pulmonologist came in and said they were going to do a pst where they see if Bryan can breathe on his own. The day nurse used an ultrasound to put in a second IV and found calcification of his blood vessels.

I have little memory of the pst, but I do remember that it seemed to take forever until he got to where they were comfortable enough to let him breathe on his own.

February 23, 2019

Day 20: Bryan’s IV in his right arm blew this morning. They did a pic line in his right arm to replace it. I noticed his arm swelling around the blood pressure cuff later and the nurse took it off. She thought the swelling and redness was from the blown IV at first, but I told her about the blood clot and she agreed that it was probably from that. He now has one blood clot in his right arm, two in the left, and the big one in his right leg that was discovered our first night here. The results from the peritoneal dialysis sample showed his white blood count went from the 3000 range to the 900 range which is good even though no one seems to know why it went to 3000 in the first place or how it got to 900. His nose bled a bit today from the ENG line. He also got three breathing treatments to help his lungs out. They’re giving him pain medication tonight at 10 so he can sleep through the night.

Our current little project is the bowel obstruction. They inserted a special dye through the ENG line that apparently not only allows them to see it through an x-ray, but it’s also water-soluble and theoretically is supposed to break up the blockage. They’ve x-rayed him five times now and will be doing it multiple times throughout the night to monitor the progress. After seeing the first x-ray, I can now safely say I know Bryan inside and out.

via GIPHY

Bryan’s stress level at this point was pretty high. Looking back, I wish I had asked them for something to help that. I was completely helpless at this point. I could do nothing to help alleviate his pain or his fears that he kept locked inside. Friends came with food, ate with us, talked with us, and for a while, things seemed somewhat normal. Or as normal as it could possibly be. I had started going home and getting showers, but by this point, I had gone three days with no shower or changing my clothes. One of Bryan’s doctors came by to visit. Another one of his friends came by to visit and we all watched the Memphis Tigers play Wichita State.

February 24, 2019

Coffee is absolutely necessary to keep me from babbling on like a 2-year-old. Especially in this place. #Day21

It’s been very calm and peaceful this morning which is unusual in a hospital, especially in ICU. Bryan is sleeping and slept pretty well despite x-ray coming in and out. They’re still taking pictures and came by about 15 minutes ago. Our priority now is the bowel obstruction. If we can get that broken up, then we can start getting him back on his regular pills vs the IV method. Once that happens and they can get his blood pressure stabilized, THAT will get us back into our lovely suite complete with couch. We just need his Diva Bowels to quit horsing around and start doing their job. In the meantime, I have enough coffee in my system to crochet a bit. That’s my true stress reliever.

Before you come up to visit, call or text me first only because he does hemodialysis at all hours, it’s a 3-4 hour process, and no one can be in the room during it (including me). 😜 He’s on it right now so he should be done about 4:30 or 5.

I was able to crochet only a couple of times while we were in the hospital. By the time we were in there for a couple of weeks, my brain had melted. Bryan’s brain had melted. We watched ESPN and I watched movies while he slept. It was all we had the mental capacity to do.

February 25, 2019

Today’s story is about poop. 💩 They had been running x-rays all night, tracking the dye as it traveled through his small intestine. Unfortunately, the dye wasn’t working and instead of moving on through and taking the poop with it, the dye back-pedaled and came out the other way. The general surgeon had been in and out over the last day or so, talking to us about possible surgery. He was reluctant to operate, but now we’re at a point where we’re out of options. On the x-rays of the small intestine, the surgeon saw pockets of stool all over the inside of the small intestine that are just hanging out in true CF style. Bryan is going to have surgery mid-morning about 9-ish. They’re going to discontinue his immunosuppressant medications and his blood thinners in preparation for the surgery. The peritoneal dialysis port will have to be removed during the procedure and they won’t be able to put it back in so we’ll be doing hemodialysis from now on. Then the surgeon is going to literally push the poop into his colon. The results for the bronchoscopy also came back. They found E. coli present in his lungs which means we now have to don blue gowns and blue gloves before we go into his room. I feel like a Smurf. This is our 22nd day in the hospital. I lose track of the days. We came in Monday, February 4th. Is my math right? They come by daily to do rounds. You don’t truly feel like you’re in a fishbowl until you’re in ICU when they do rounds. The nurse in charge explains the case to a large group of nurses, PCAs, and other folks who stare intently into our room and take notes on their tablets. I have to keep myself from waving or doing something silly. It’s so odd – being gawked at as if we were an animal in a zoo. For the surgery, we’re getting kicked out of our room temporarily. If you come visit, come up to the 2nd floor and the first waiting room you see right across from the elevators is the one we’ll be in. I don’t know how long the surgery will take, but I’ll post updates tomorrow as I get them. I apologize in advance for clogging up the news feed. Pray, pray, pray! This will be a big surgery. If this is successful, then he will be able to start receiving meds orally and start eating real food. THEN, we’ll be able to move back into our lovely little suite from whence we came. THEN, we can continue the process of hopefully getting well enough to break out of this place.

Bryan had been gurgly all night and the dye that was back-pedaling was the culprit. It was mixed with some of the stool from his intestine. He threw up quite a bit. It was the first time he had thrown up since being in the ICU. His IV was hurting by this point so one of the nurses fixed that. His Mom came by to sit with him so I could go home to do some laundry, pay bills, and get a quick shower. We found out Bryan was going to lose his peritoneal dialysis catheter so at that point, he was going to have to continue the hemodialysis. His response, “I hate my body.”

February 26, 2019

We’re currently waiting on the surgeon. He’s operating on someone else at the moment and we’re slated for 9:00 to 9:30. The procedure should last about an hour to an hour and a half. Y’all. I am so beyond touched. Not only are you guys posting comments on my updates that you’re praying, I’ve seen people post on their own walls to pray. With this much prayer chatter going on, God is going to do His thing just to shut us all up.

Bryan’s still in surgery. I got a call saying they’re about halfway through, but everything seemed to be going good so far!

He’s out and in recovery! The surgery was a success! In order to avoid the gory details, he was quite literally full of poop (I’m thinking it’ll be a while before I let him live that one down 😜). He will be asleep 3-5 days (yes, you read that right). He’ll be in ICU. Then he’ll start back on a liquid diet and we will go from there one day at a time. UPDATE: My poor brain. His BOWELS will be asleep 3-5 days – not him. 😂

February 27, 2019

The surgeon came in this morning and said everything looked good. He’ll get the stitches out in five days. Bryan’s now on a liquid diet so we’ll test that here in a few minutes. He’s taking his medications orally (yay!) and getting breathing treatments. He has three germs in his lungs that the antibiotics should clear out in a week or two. The NG tube is stopped so I’m hoping that gets taken out here soon. They had him sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed this morning and had him standing briefly with the walker at lunchtime. His blood pressure seems to finally be leveling out a bit. They have him on morphine with a button he can push. We’re still moving forward so I’m hoping we can continue that and not take a bunch of steps backwards again.

February 28, 2019

So [his mother] is sitting with Bryan while I come down to the SS office to get a bit of paperwork done. It’s beyond crowded. I feel like pulling a Mr. Bean.

youtube

At this point, we were going to need to get things in place for long-term care until the kidney transplant. I had gone into the SS office and it was a madhouse. I got to a care worker, sat down, he asked me a question, and I fell apart. He was wonderful. He’d been on dialysis himself and shared his story with me. While it wasn’t the same as Bryan’s, it was so nice to hear someone’s happy-ever-after story. I needed that.

Day 25: Today is hemodialysis day. I’m not allowed to be in the ICU room at the hospital so I took the opportunity to run home and get laundry done because I’m out of clothes. It feels very weird to be back in the apartment. It’s almost like it’s not even home. After 25 days in the hospital, the world shrinks a bit. Our time will come when we can get out of the hospital, come home, and build our new routine. Bryan has lived in the moment his whole life so we continue to do that while also hoping we are free from hospital beds, hospital food, and the marking of days by the nurse shift change.

March 1, 2019

Today was a big day. Bryan had a bowel movement, he was propped up in a chair where he could eat Jello and broth, and they removed the NG tube as well as the morphine. He sat in the chair a good bit of the day and is now back in his bed. I guess I had imagined a different scenario playing out when he was able to poop. I envisioned pooping, smiling, and halfway coherent conversation. Instead, he pooped, he argued, and he’s almost as lethargic as he was when he was on the morphine. He coughs and it hurts his tummy where the stitches are located. I don’t know a whole lot about morphine so maybe it stays in your system for a while? Nonetheless, he has made excellent progress and we’re that much closer to getting back into a regular room. He was able to take his pills and eat on his own at lunch. His dinner came a little bit ago and he stated he wanted the Jello. He appears to have forgotten all about that request, though. He’s nodded off, buried under warm blankets and pillows. He’ll get his pills shortly after the shift change and hopefully he’ll get those down without me having to be the pill Nazi.

via GIPHY

He had thrown up a bit and it may have been from him drinking too much liquid while he was trying to take his meds. They had done another ultrasound on his arm with the IV as well. He was burping some which was a possible sign of his bowel system waking back up. His pooping was a good thing, but I missed it because I was at the SS office. I was ecstatic when I heard. He was grouchy. I realized then how much I missed conversation. I would have given anything to have talked about anything but the hospital. I also started getting an overpowering urge to talk to people about Bryan’s life.

The ultrasound came back and revealed his right shoulder area had more blood clots.

March 2, 2019

Coffee has been my savior these early mornings.

The hospital does a pretty good job with themes based on current holidays so today I get to enjoy some king cake and coffee. I hate to complain because our situation is just beyond our control, but what goofy, small thing do I miss? Being able to enjoy this king cake on a proper dessert plate and the coffee in a well-loved mug.

March 3, 2019

We had a bit of a setback last night. He had been taking liquids and sitting up in a chair. Later in the evening, he felt burpy, but still took his meds. About midnight or so, he got gurgly and start throwing up some the liquid and just couldn’t stop. He aspirated again. He’s now intubated, they put the NG tube back in, and he’s sedated. The plan for today is to check on his lungs and to slowly wean him back off to see if we can get him off the intubator and moving forward again towards getting out of ICU.

When you’re in ICU, you hear Code ___ get announced too many times. Someone has flatlined. When it happened in our ICU unit, we would watch as doctors and nurses would go into high energy mode and pile into the patient’s room to administer CPR, administer paddles, and do whatever it took to keep that person’s soul from drifting off into the netherworld.

Here was what I wrote in my journal later:

Bryan was a bit cranky Saturday evening. He had been taking his pills slowly. He was on a liquid diet, but hadn’t eaten much. He drank plenty of fluids with his pills, though. He didn’t like to be repeatedly reminded to take his pills. We got our night nurse team, R and a PCA. The PCA was the one who administered Bryan’s medication. She kept asking us things that we didn’t know because we just always went along with what the nurses did. She was starting to annoy Bryan and to be honest, she was starting to annoy me as well. She administered the night meds and I got Richie to double-check and make sure she had the right ones. I kept trying to get Bryan to take his meds, but I was unusually tired that evening. I left him to it and drifted off to sleep. I woke up to hear the nurse giving him his meds. Then I woke to hear Bryan coughing. I got up to help him out. He kept coughing and started throwing up some. Another nurse gave him some medicine for nausea, but it didn’t seem to help. He continued to throw up and suddenly became unresponsive. He was sitting up and breathing, but he wasn’t responding to me at all. It was as if he were asleep with his eyes open. I called the nurse and said he wasn’t responsive. They came in and tried to get him to say something, but couldn’t. After consulting with Dr. E, they set things up to intubate him and re-insert the NG tube. They called in Dr. W to do the intubation. That whole process took a couple of hours. Things were stabilizing until about 7 this morning. They had discovered he had aspirated and acidic bile had gotten into his lungs. His body started to shut down and he coded. Our room was suddenly filled with people. They couldn’t get a blood pressure reading so they inserted an arterial line. They used his hemodialysis port to put IVs in. I was already upset, but about lost it when they had to do chest compressions. I thought to myself, is this it? I’m not done talking to him yet. We’re not done with our lives together. The whole scenario was unreal. [The PCA], that sweet man, came in to help with the chest compressions and came over to hug me. Another nurse asked me if I was okay and if I needed to step out. Another doctor who was new was a bit overly dramatic and was like a puppy dog in the middle of all his older buddies. He was hopping around, giving orders cheerily and trying to put an IV in. He was mostly ignored. The doctor who came in to assist was very calm and proficient. Now it’s 8:00pm. They’ve weaned him off of the heart rate meds and his heart is beating on its own. They’ve weaned him off of one blood pressure medication. Tomorrow, they’ll try to wean him off of the ventilator.

He was now almost completely unresponsive.

My journal entry from March 4th:

Overnight, the nurse, woke me up and said Bryan’s eyes weren’t dilating and they were taking him down for a CT scan. The CT scan ruled out a stroke, but he’s been off of the sedation now for 12 hours and there’s very little response. If I massage his feet, he wiggles his toes. They did an EEG as well and we’re waiting to hear back from that. Dr. E is supposed to be by today to talk to us. The next 24 hours are crucial. If Bryan gets taken off the ventilator and breathes on his own, then we’ll let him and then let whatever happens, happen. If he can’t be taken off the ventilator, then we’re going to have to make a very difficult decision. I’m running on automatic today. Bryan never wanted to be on a ventilator.

“I’m a success today because I had a friend who believed in me and I didn’t have the heart to let him down.” ~ Abraham Lincoln

That “him” is Bryan. I don’t want to lose Bryan. We are just beginning our life together. We have too many things to learn about each other. I haven’t irritated him nearly enough. We haven’t been able to have a house together. We’ve only been able to enjoy Saturday morning breakfasts for a short period of time. There are too many things I want to do with him.

March 5, 2019

We had a bit of a scare after he aspirated on Sunday. He’s still on a ventilator and we’re going to give it a few days to see if he improves based on results from the CT scan and results from the EEG which we haven’t seen yet. I realize that’s a bit vague so I can provide more details via FB Messenger. We’re still here in ICU, just silently waiting and watching and talking smack to Bryan to try and get him to respond. ❤️

This was on Tuesday. It was all I could mentally post on Facebook for everyone. Family and friends started coming by in earnest.

March 6, 2019

A friend shared a set of verses from Philippians with me yesterday. I pulled two verses out that I’m holding closely for the next few days. We’re holding steady at the moment. They’re doing a more extensive EEG today. He’s supposed to have hemodialysis today as well (so if you had planned to come up, let me know first to make sure he’s not still in dialysis). I can provide more details via messenger. As always, keep us in your prayers. Pray for healing, pray for my mental strength as well as the mental strength of our family, pray for quiet peace and confidence for our family as we wait over the next few days. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. ~ Philippians 4:6-7

My journal entry for March 6th:

We’re in a countdown now. A countdown until we pull Bryan off of the ventilator. We’re hoping, in spite of the facts. We’re hoping Bryan wakes up, recognizes who he is and we can start the road to recovery. The facts are that he has brain damage and we’re not clear on how much. The next few days are allowing his body to recover to the extent that it’s going to recover and if there’s no improvement by Sunday, we’re pulling him off of the ventilator. I’m not sure what to expect with this.

March 7, 2019

I am so sorry for the delay-it’s been an emotional afternoon. I am sad to say that Bryan has left us for a better place. We’re setting things up over the next couple of days so if you message me and I don’t respond immediately, that’s why. Message me anyway. Thank you, everyone, for your prayers, your assistance, and your thoughts. He was my best buddy. ❤️

Piecing the Jigsaw Puzzle of our Last Month When Bryan and I were in the hospital the month of February last year, I kept everyone updated through Facebook because it was easier to do a mass post than update everyone individually.

0 notes

astraeawrites · 7 years ago

Photo

A Guide to Residential/Rehab For Minors

This guide will go over some vocabulary/slang terms often used, the process in which you get brought into the residential, and what it’s really like there. This was requested by an anon.

Disclaimer: This guide was not made to support the use of mental illness as a cheap storyline. This guide was made to provide accuracy for those who wish to utilize this subject maturely and truthfully. This is mainly based on my own experience as well as a collection of some of my friends’ experiences, used with the permission of those individuals. This is also based on the residentials based in California and laws will vary place to place. If there is anything I’m missing or anything you found to be incorrect, feel free to message me. This guide is also subject to change and revision; updates will be labeled as such.

Triggers: General mental health issues (ex: self-harm, eating disorders, depression, suicide attempts, drug use, drinking).

The following information is broken up into varying chapters/sections. If you would like to know what to expect or skip ahead, use the following titles as a reference point. ( CTRL + F and copy and paste the desired chapter/section to be brought there; you can also use this method to search for any key words you may be looking for ).

Basic Information

What Determines Treatment

Entering the Residential Life

Important Rules

Contraband and Other Banned Items

Key Points to Everyday Life

Staff Responsibilities

The Level System

The Points System

Another Thing to Note

Common Vocabulary

Basic Information

Before we get too deep, I think it’s important to go over the basic outline of the mental health system. Usually, the steps you take would include the following: hospitalization, residential/rehabilitation, partial hospitalization program, intensive outpatient program, and typical therapy. Let’s take some time to analyze each step so you can understand where your character/story would fit in.

Hospitalization is the highest level of care. It is the stage in which you are a danger to yourself or others. Since I’ve already done a guide to this, I won’t get too into it, but the primary difference between these two things is that residentials do not lock the doors while hospitals are full-lockdown. If you want to read more about mental hospitals for minors, please redirect yourself HERE.

Residential treatment center (RTC) is the second level of care. This can vary place to place, but it my experience, the doors are not locked and the staff is not allowed to touch you. Residential tends to allow a person more freedom while still maintaining a safe place to stay. I’ll talk more about this later since the guide is about RTCs.

Partial hospitalization programs (PHP) are the third level of care. Usually, teens and adults that are released from a residential program go to a partial hospitalization program. In most cases, this is a five-day program (Monday-Friday). You live at home, or at a sober living if you are an addict, and it will normally take place from 8:30 AM to 3:00 PM; however, mine took place from 12:30 PM to 6:45 PM, which is unusual.

Intensive outpatient programs (IOP) are the level of care that can sometimes come directly after residential or simply after PHP. If a person skips PHP and goes straight to IOP after residential, it is usually because they are going back to school or already have a job. But really, this is rare since residential to IOP is still a huge step-down. Anyways, in this stage, you go to the program about three days during the week. Some places let you pick any three days out of the week, but most will have you come in on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. IOP hours vary but are almost always about 4 hours long. Mine was from 3:00 PM to 6:45 PM.

Typical therapy is simply the usual one day a week. I don’t know what to call it since most people just call it therapy, but I wanted to differentiate it a tad. Anyways, this is pretty straight forward so I won’t get into it.

What Determines Treatment

As seen in my timeline above, you will usually come into a residential after coming out of the hospital. However, this isn’t always the case. Some people come in from PHP, IOP, or therapy. As long as it has been determined that you are safe enough to go straight to residential, you’re in.

Since we have an understanding of the timeline, let’s discuss what would qualify a person to end up in residential. To give you an idea, click HERE to see a screenshot of some questions from the website of my old residential. Now, this was for a dual-diagnosis program and was geared toward clients with drug use and mental illness so take it with a grain of salt. The general idea remains, though. It is for teens who need help and need to get that help away from home with 24-hour supervision, but not in a lockdown facility.

The type of people in these facilities vary. Without getting too into it, the first time I went into a residential, I was there for depression and anxiety. The second time, I was there for depression, anxiety, drug abuse, and excoriation disorder. This is just to give you a vague idea of the type of disorders you will see. Some facilities cater to specific issues like drug abuse, depression, or eating disorders. Others are there for a more broad approach and are typically referred to as dual-diagnosis programs. Trichotillomania, obsessive compulsive disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, borderline personality disorder, oppositional defiant disorder, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder, Asperger's syndrome, and court ordered rehabilitation are just a short list of diagnoses I have come across in my time as a patient. It is not limited to these disorders, however, and can sometimes be something as simple as overprotective parents that over exaggerate their child’s issues.

As mentioned before, there are different places that can sometimes specialize in one specific disorder so it is important to determine whether a dual-diagnosis program would be better than, let’s say, an eating disorder residential.

Entering the Residential Life

Arrival to a residential is nothing like arriving at a hospital or being transferred. You are almost always driven by your parents. The only case I’ve seen where the parent didn’t drive their kid, was because they lived far and needed a police escort. The times that I’ve been on my way from a hospital to a residential, I’ve gotten food to eat and used my phone. It’s up to the parents to make stops and whatnot, but usually, they will not. Stopping makes it easier for a teen to not comply and try to escape, which is not what we want.

When you arrive, you are faced with a basic interview. Usually, the first day is the worst. You’re tired and are suddenly thrust into this new world with about five other teens. You’re being dragged in and out of milieu to do interviews with your therapist and say goodbye to your parents. Any belongings you have are given to a staff member and they check in your things. However, bras with underwire, thongs, shoe laces, jacket/sweatshirt/sweatpants strings, sharp items, phones/computers/anything you can use to communicate, and inappropriate clothing are not allowed. Typically, for the first 24 hours of arriving, you are not allowed to make any phone calls because people usually try to persuade their parents to take them out of the residential. You also start out on level one, but I’ll get into that later. Lastly, a folder is given to you that contains the rules, levels, and treatment goals. Again, this will all be explained soon.

Also, you’ll learn who your roommate is. It’s broken up by gender and normally, there’s two boys and four girls. However, in some occasions, the roles are reversed. Of course, this is only for a co-ed house. Some are specifically for females and some are specifically for men. Please note that transgender clients tend to have to room with the gender they were assigned at birth. I’ve only known one person who was allowed to room with a male (he is a female to male), but just know that cases like these are difficult. This isn’t across the board, but typically this WILL cause tension for the other roommate. Just because you are in a treatment facility, don’t expect everyone to be tolerant and politically correct. Remember that these treatment facilities are not just for people that have depression, anxiety, or an eating disorder. These places are also for teens that have behavioral problems so physical altercations can be expected.

Important Rules

The rules are also very basic. Unfortunately, I no longer have that paper so all of this will be based on memory, common sense, and research. They normally don’t have a list of rules they pass out, but they do give you a welcome packet that briefly goes over expectations. In short, the main idea is to avoid triggering topics. This is something that is huge, especially because you never know what’s going to set someone off. There’s also a big no-touch rule. Hugs are not allowed since some people are uncomfortable with that. Blankets are usually not allowed since it’s easy to do inappropriate things with them. No relationships because they can cloud your judgment and stunt your growth. Profanity is also not allowed. Nails should be cut short to avoid self-harm and no contraband at all.

The next big thing is the kitchen. Knives and sharp objects, in general, are locked up. The staff also has to keep count of them to assure that no clients have stolen them. In my last one, literally, EVERYTHING was locked. Only the fridge was unlocked, and this brings us to the next rule! Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and the snack time in between meals are the only time you can eat. However, if you are hungry even with all of that, you are allowed to eat fruit or cheese and crackers. Those were the only things we could eat in between meals. Everything you eat or don’t eat is recorded in a binder as well.

This rule isn’t really for drug-related residentials since it’s more for the depression/eating disorder ones. After eating/meal times, the bathrooms are locked for 20-30 minutes. If you really need to use the bathroom, the staff may use their judgment to allow you to go; however, if they let you, it’s uncomfortable. You need to constantly sing or talk whilst doing your “business” so that they know that you are not purging or anything like that.

I know earlier I stated that the doors aren’t locked, but one door that is, would be the bathroom doors. This is just to ensure that clients don’t go in there and smoke or do anything eating disorder-related. This also goes into the line-of-sight rule. At all times, you must be in the line-of-sight of at least one staff members. This means you cannot go wondering off on your own. Doing so will result in consequences and can be considered an AWOL. If you AWOL and while you are in a residential under a court order, you can be arrested. One of my friends did this and he was arrested and taken away for breaking his probation.

Now, this is a part that I don’t particularly love talking about since it has some bad memories attached, but it is important. A 5-foot-rule can be implemented when a person is being inappropriate around you. It can either be requested by you or issued as a punishment for two clients. With me, I had a 5-foot-rule against all the males in the house. One of them was because we were getting too close too fast and the other was because the guy was not respecting personal boundaries. I shit you not when I tell you he whispered sexual things in my ear while rubbing his foot on my leg. Yikes. Anyways, those can be issued and if things improve, they can be revoked. It’s all up to how you and the other person act.

Your room also needs to be clean. You can’t have clothes lying around and your bed needs to be made. If it isn’t you do get taken back to your room so that you can clean it. You are also responsible for doing your laundry on your assigned laundry day. Everything gets a day. Monday through Saturday are usually reserved for each client and Sundays are house cleaning days. That’s basically when towels, sheets, and other things are washed.

Body checks are by far the MOST annoying thing, in my opinion. Every time you leave the house and come back, you are not allowed to do ANYTHING until you get a body check. This consists of going to the bathroom with a staff member, stripping down to your underwear, doing one or two squats, and holding out your arms while you spin in a circle. Then, they check your clothes. This is to ensure that you are not bringing any contraband into the house. This also needs to be done anytime you go back to your room since they want to make sure you’re not hiding things. It’s uncomfortable, inconvenient, and I hate it. Also, girls can only get checked by female staff members and boys can get checked by females or males, though, they prefer to match gender.

Transportation is usually in a van. It’s your stereotypical mom van and the rules are cut and dry. You usually alternate who gets to sit shotgun. This is a highly envied spot since you get ALL radio control. Now, we all know how a van is set up, right? Two front seats, usually three middle seats, and three back seats. Click HERE for a better visualization. I labeled it with numbers to help you understand this. So, basically, a boy and a girl can’t sit next to each other. That’s pretty easy to understand. Now, here’s the kicker: a male staff member cannot sit next to a female client. Yep. For example, if a female client is sitting in seat 6 and a male client is sitting in seat 8, a male staff member CANNOT sit it seat 7. Only a female staff member can. However, a male staff member could sit in the driver’s seat (1) and a female client could sit in the passenger seat (2).

Any physical altercations will result in isolation. This is basically when a client is removed from the group and a staff member sits with them in an isolated setting. In this time, the client may not speak to anyone at all. Failure to comply results in your time resetting. The standard isolation times are anywhere from 7 to 9 hours, but I have seen them go on longer than that.

Contraband and Banned Items

To expand on the contraband subject, let’s go over some things that you can expect to be banned, seized, or used at certain times. In your initial intake, your belts, shoelaces, drawstrings, and any other long strings will be taken away or cut from your clothing. This normally only lasts for a short period and you will eventually get your laces/drawstrings back within a week or so depending on your behavior. Until then, slip-on shoes or sandals are normally what you would wear.

Any sharps are banned. This includes but is not limited to knives, razors, pins, needles, and broken pencils/pens. Even normal pencils or pens are usually contained to a certain room. In my first residential, which was more focused on depression and/or self-harm, the pencils were to be checked out by a staff member. They had a log that they recorded the pencils with and they used this to keep track of them as well. Pencils were not allowed in rooms at all, though, they did give me an exception since, at the time, I was struggling with something that they believed warranted the use of pencils/pens to occupy my time. In my other residential, which was more focused on dual-diagnosis issues, they did not keep track of pens and pencils. They primarily didn’t do it because only two clients were there for suicidal and self-harm reasons.

Outside food/drink/opened containers are prohibited. It doesn’t matter if you have a face wash that was expensive. You need to buy a new bottle and make sure that it is still sealed. Otherwise, they can’t allow it in for the simple reason that they do not know if the contents match the label. Some people could be sneaking in alcohol. Since we’re on the topic of alcohol, no perfumes or hairsprays are allowed either. They are usually locked up in the staff office, along with the rest of your contraband. While they aren’t allowed out on the milieu, you are allowed to ask the staff to use both items. They just need to be supervised and locked up after. Cigarettes are also not permitted, though, I’m not certain how it is with other states. I just know that California's legal age to buy cigarettes is 21.

Room searches are conducted on a daily basis. A staff member will search your room from top to bottom for any contraband. Let me tell you that these are thorough. People do not just get away with hiding razors under pillows. That is ridiculous and simply not a hiding place that would go undetected. Please, for the love of God, do NOT have your character get away with hiding shit like that. More importantly, admins, do NOT let the players get away with that shit. You can’t hide anything in your bedroom, especially if it’s an even mildly decent facility. It’s incredibly hard to do.

If the staff suspect that a client is in possession of contraband, they have the right to do a room toss. This is different from a room search because room tosses are 10x more thorough and rude. You stand by the door while the staff literally destroy your room looking for contraband. Even if you don’t have anything and it's your roommate being accused, your stuff gets tossed. One time, the staff thought my roommate was stashing cigarettes and we watched as they tore apart our room. By the end of it, the room will look like a tornado. The shitty part? Even if they don’t find anything, you have to clean up the room. Luckily, I already knew that my roommate was innocent of the aforementioned accusation and we got along great so cleaning up wasn’t too bad. We mainly joked around and shaded the staff members.

Lastly, razors used for shaving. The rules for this vary place to place. In the last one I was in, they allowed razors under the supervision of a staff member. In the previous one, they only allowed electric razors. Of course, all of the razors, electric or not, do have to be locked up in between use.

Key Points to Everyday Life

A key part of residential programs is that they are located in ordinary suburban houses. Yes, a residential could be right down the street from you. That’s the beauty of it. While a hospital focuses simply on leveling out, Residential focus on trying to get you adjusted to a somewhat regular lifestyle. A lot of chores are a part of this. They differ day to day and there’s always a chore schedule placed somewhere in the kitchen or on the wall in the living room. Doing your chores tend to be very important since failure to comply will result in a level drop or a staff member not giving you points for the day.

Life in a residential is relatively strict. You are not allowed to take naps unless you have been ordered to by a doctor or you are basically about to die. I kid you not, the staff there are tough and take no bullshit from people. They do not let you sit down on your bed to rest AT ALL. A big part of it is learning to be responsible and not sit around all day. They try to keep you busy throughout the day. The daily schedule for most of these places is relatively similar. Exercise, breakfast, school, etc. It all goes the same. I have an example of a schedule that you can find HERE.

Note that weekdays are MUCH busier than weekends. This is because weekends are when you are allowed to have visitors. Only family members are allowed to visit you. Night and morning routines are similar. You can choose to shower in the morning or the night, your choice. Usually, they do base who gets to go first on who is the highest level so just remember that. Your toiletries are kept in a small plastic box that is roughly the size of a shoebox. All of that stuff is locked up so you do need to ask/wait for a staff member to unlock it.

Staff Responsibilities

Since I was a client, I’m not an expert on what the job entitles. However, I do have a therapist who was a staff member at a residential, and because of this, I do know a few more things than the average client.

One main thing is that they need to be observant. This is fairly obvious since the clients rely on staff to maintain safety. Throughout the day, they need to take notes on the clients. There’s usually a computer system in which this happens. In most cases, they are going to write down how you appear to be feeling. This is when “check-in’s” are important because these allow clients to actually speak up for themselves and talk about how they are actually feeling. In some facilities, clients initiating the check in can result in them being leveled up. Check in’s are simply the clients telling the staff how they are doing. These are also usually done in private, so the staff has to have time to talk to the client.

The shifts for the staff are usually broken up into 3 different times. From 5AM-1PM, 1PM-9PM, and 9PM-5AM. This is a very broad idea, but it’s usually morning, afternoon, and night shift aka graveyard shift. The graveyard shift is the one that is least convenient for people because of the time it’s at. During this time, you still need to keep notes and keep track of the clients, even if they are sleeping. You can’t fall asleep, and trust me, if you do, things can go wrong really fast. Clients are sneaky so do not put it past them to wait until a staff member falls asleep. Still, the graveyard shift does have a whole new list of responsibilities. Theirs usually consists of laundry and chores instead of taking the clients to and from their daily activities. They also end up getting a lot of free time, which can sometimes be ideal for college students who work there since they can stay up and study/do homework.

Another big thing is that since this is not a lockdown facility, they are not required to chase after or follow runaway clients. Yes, they should definitely follow them, but they do not have to. They can choose to follow, or choose to call the cops immediately. Again, this may not be the same policy for all facilities, just the ones I’ve been.

Perhaps the biggest thing, though, is that you need to avoid giving full names. Some kids in there are stalkers, so staff members emphasis the importance of avoiding sharing their personal details. You also have to avoid sharing to much about yourself in general. I know a while back, a bunch of people at this one residential got fired because they were oversharing with the teens. Even if you believe that your harrowing story may be relatable, you need to be careful. Don’t stack one problem on top of the other. Just avoid getting too attached to the kids.

The Level System

The level system directly correlates with the point system, but I’ll get into this more in the next section. For now, let’s cover the basics. There are typically 5-6 levels. Each level comes with its own perks, so leveling up is something that is a great achievement.

Level One: This is the level that all clients start out at. It is the most basic one and therefore, has the most basic rewards. The main, and most disappointing, is that you will usually be last when it comes to body checks and showers. This means you will have to wait in the hall until it is your turn, and trust me, by the end of the time, you do not want that. You also get 5 minutes of phone time each day to talk to your parents. If your parents are divorced, you get two 5 minute phone calls each. You also do not get outings with your family, just visits.

Level Two: Alright, this level barely has anything different than the first level. You get the same amount of phone time and you are still relatively low on the list of who goes first. However, this is when you do get to have outings with your family. This means you can leave the residential when your family visits, but you must be brought back immediately.

Level Three: Not gonna lie, this is also pretty similar. You get the same amount of phone time and the same rule applies to the showers and body checks. You also get to have off-site visits with your family.

Level Four: Level four is actually not that bad! You get to have a 5-minute phone call with your parents as well as a 5-minute phone call with an approved friend. Your friends must be approved by a therapist.

Level Five: At this level, you are allowed 10 minutes per day to parents/guardians and a 10-minute call to a friend. In the facility I was at, this was pretty much the highest level you could get since most people didn’t stay long enough to reach the next one.

Level Six: At this level, you are allowed 20 minutes of phone times which can be split up as you want it. This is the highest level and if you reach this, it means that you are trusted by the staff. You are the leader, and therefore, need to act like one. It is super hard to reach this level, and often times you need to petition in order to reach it. A petition is when you speak to the milieu and the staff, usually during treatment team meetings. You describe to them how you have changed and why you deserve to get to level six and they decide.

In short term facilities (4-6 week programs), there is no waiting period. You can level up each week. In longer ones (anything beyond 6 weeks programs) there may be waiting periods between levels. In my facility, you could move from 1 to 2 and 2 to 3 each week. However, moving from 3 to 4 and so on, you usually need to wait a week or two before you can move up. I hope that made sense. You can also be level dropped for bad or innappropriate behavior.

The Points System

The points system is the main part of residential that slips my mind, and this is simply because it is so different in each facility. The main the that stays the same, though, is that each level represents a number of points you get each day. If you are on level one, you get one point each day. If you are level three, you get three. If you are level six, you get six. You can also earn extra points for doing extra work. For example, I had a pretty unique connection with the chef at my last facility and because of this, I enjoyed being in the kitchen. We made an arrangement that I could earn points by helping him clean the oven and organize things when I had free time. You can also earn points by displaying good behavior or, sometimes, making bets with staff. It isn’t too professional, but some cool staff would make bets with me during basketball season. It was always something small, like earning one point if I could correctly guess who would win the upcoming game.

In the place I was at, they didn’t take away points, but they would withhold them from you. If you displayed bad or inappropriate behavior, they could simply tell you that you didn’t earn any points for the day.

Now, let’s get into what the points are actually used for. Each level brings in a new list of things that you can buy with points. Here is a short list of simple things you could buy with points for each level:

Level One: Nothing.

Level Two: For 10 points - cup of soda (you normally only get juice or water), for 15 points - an extra snack (candy).

Level Three: For 50 points - haircut, for 25 points - time to shave your legs (monitored), for 25 points - time to apply makeup.

Level Four: For 100 points - bubble bath (monitored and done in a bathing suit), for 150 points $10 to spend on Amazon (not a gift card, has to be approved by a therapist).

Level Five: For 250 points - Dinner with a staff member of your choice to a restaurant of your choice, For 275 points - $25 to spend on Amazon (not a gift card, has to be approved by a therapist).

Level Six: For 1,000 points - Mini-golfing, for 500 points - $50 to spend on Amazon (not a gift card, has to be approved by a therapist).

Now, I know the prices seem high, but that’s the whole point. You pay a lot of points for something, but the high number of points means you worked your ass off for it. When I was in my last residential, I was there for a little over 90 days and by the end of it, I had about 1,500 points. That’s a lot, okay, and you don’t just magically get there. Plus, by the time you do get that many points, they don’t even matter. Between you and me, they never mattered to me. In the end, I only spent about 250 points just so I can go out to eat with my favorite staff and look at pictures of her daughter. It was fun and I did it at the end of my treatment, so I knew I deserved it.

Another Thing to Note

While this isn’t something that is a law, most people do not return to the same facility more than once. Yes, it does happen, but clearly, the first time didn’t work and often times insurance companies or the therapists will try to avoid placing someone in the same facility twice. Just keep this in mind and don’t have your character returning to the same residential over and over again.

Common Vocabulary

AWOL: Also known as “absent without leave.” This is basically when you leave the premises of the hospital/treatment facility.

Contraband: Items that are not approved, but are in the possession of a client. Examples of this include cigarettes, knives, drugs, inappropriate clothing, perfume, etc.

Milieu: A person’s social environment or the peers around them when they are out in shared spaces such as community rooms.

PET Team: Psychiatric Emergency Teams (PET) are mobile response teams based in and operated by psychiatric hospitals approved by the Department of Mental Health to initiate applications for 5150 and 5585 evaluations.

Treatment Team Meetings: There are two different treatment team meetings. The first one is when the staff and the therapists get together and discuss how are you doing. The second is when you are with the milieu, the clients, and one or two staff members. There, you discuss treatment goals and what you can approve upon.

If you have any questions/comments/concerns, please feel free to ask!

Q&A About this guide

#rph #rpc #rpt #rp guide #rpcha #m #m:guide #rp #rp:guide #queue

167 notes · View notes

dancekickboxcardio · 5 years ago

Text

Hmmmm... 🤔 How do you this?

I decided to write 🖊 my execution of today’s work out 💪🏾 🏃🏼‍♀️ routine. I have been up pretty early and I have not completed my nights 🌃 rest 😌 . Yes, I am going back to bed 🛌 . Surprise 😮, I have no bad hips. I was holding on to the grab bars treadmill. It was a difficult adjustment coming from a three day 📆 sit. I was dragging my feet and a touch lazy. But I did what I need to do to establish a tone. I measured myself. Ah, 📏I should totally do the body stats thing and I don’t mean just weight. The size and proportion. Thick legs 🦵🏾.

I got to catch up with some of my gym 🏃🏼‍♀️ 💪🏾 friends. I asked them about their plans for the holiday 🎄. It’s still two weeks off and yet it is fast 💨 approaching. I am waiting for the week to move along so I have my allowance 💵. I am bad. Vie, can you focus your attention on other stuff. But I love ❤️ shoes, make up 💄, clothes 👗, bag 💼. The sad 😢 part is I am getting essentials. They don’t have to be expensive 💲💲💲💲💲 and I am aware of that. But you have to realize great function when you see one. You totally can realize and be like the price you pay is commensurates the product that you are getting. Even then, I don’t pay retail. However, let’s face it. High end Lululemon is not going to put it on sale 🏷 and really it is a novelty item that I need now. I know I am annoying 😒 . It’s more than durable. Like many things I would like to be reminded that life must be enjoyed 😊 slow. Relish the time spent working on self. How many people do you thing have that? Develop not on the constraints society tells you. You dictate your terms (because you can). Merry Christmas 🎁. I have my water 💦 bottle but I got distracted to making my espresso ☕️ . Someone is training Jajamoose to have yogurt 🍦. I was having my early breakfast 🥞 snack. He loves 💕 it and he’ll be in your face at every turn.

I am not turning on podcast 🎙. But I am painting my nails 💅🏾. I would like to provide my commentaries on pictures 📸 . Artsy farsy. But that defeats the purpose of impressions right. Let’s break it down segment by.

I had a morning ☀️ similar to today. I was up at 600a and couldn’t go back to bed easily. I got up had a yogurt 🍦 and my espresso to jump start my system. I sat in my chaise 🛋 studying 🤓 👩🏼‍💻 American Constitution. I finished the four week lectures which is the equivalent of 1/8 of a semester’s course work. Maybe even less. But the condense materials 📑are nevertheless robust. I am getting a certificate 📜 . I love ❤️ collecting tokens ✨ of accomplishments apart from lipsticks 💄, blushes and eyeliners 👛.

He is sticking with me this morning. It must be the yogurt 🍦. Although he has been extra sweet 😻 lately. Then, I see him bossing his older bro’s around 😆.

I need to change my sheets.

I don’t seem to like the chicken 🍗 that I made. It needs more salt and I would love ❤️ the crispy coating. But I am eating 🍽. I’m not going to throw it away. I saw that duck 🦆 and turkey 🦃 were on sale in the grocery 🛒. But I calculated the cost of an entire weight of meat 🥩 it’s a lot. I chose not to have a gourmet meal 👩🏼‍🍳. I can almost taste 😋 the orange 🍊 glaze. I was prepped early. My Mom interrupted my sleep 😴 for a schedule 🗓 change. It was resolved. I had lunch 🍴 early and at 600p, yes I was hungry 😋 for dinner in my cool down stretches 🙆🏼‍♀️ .

Police 🚔 was in as I walked. He opened the door 🚪. I wanted to see if it was the same officer who took my report. I said hi 👋🏾 to Joe who checked me in. I smiled at the Frozen display. “Let it go. Let it go.” ❄️ I missed K. There was a new gal at the desk. I haven’t started my work out 💪🏾 🏃🏼‍♀️ and my hair is already disheveled. I looked 👀 sweaty 🥵 exhausted too. I sat in the sauna 🧖🏼‍♀️ to literally warm up my muscles. I wanted to take a picture where I was sitting and put the bag 💼 I have my eyes 👀 on. Just being silly 🙃.

I went upstairs and I didn’t take a shot of the inbody. I saw Molly and commented on having cookies 🍪. I wanted to tell her that I had some graham crackers covered in white chocolate 🍫. I tried a little bit restrained. Then, I saw Lane. I didn’t recognize him because he was in regular clothes and he was as I told him going out wild 🌲. I discovered that he was going to California for a competition. I went deep. I was like, “ have a passion for something.” Somehow I was able to complain about my tote 👜 that smelled 👃🏾 like hospital 🏥 after I smelled tea 🍵 on it last week 🗓. I don’t remem the transition. But I bid him good luck 🍀. “California. California. California.” 🎶 OC theme song. Obsessive Compulsive. Speaking of which I forgot to sanitize my mat. Freak out. It’/ cold and flu season and my nose is always running. I feel ok this morning. Thank God. Imma do moderate. No, like what I was randomly 💭 thinking in the treadmill, 90 minutes sustained cardio ❤️. Did I tell you guys how bad I was. My body was behind. Out of condition after not being in the health club for 3 days. As a result it has a steep slope. I mean mentally I wasn’t there. I wasn’t up for it and I didn’t want to weather. It was easy peasy lemon 🍋 squeezy. I decided to do the usual, make it harder but with assist. My hands 🤚🏾 where on the grab bars the entire time.

I actually decided to do moderate Tuesday. I usually charge hard esp that I am well-rested and have the energies ⚡️. I decided to warm up slow and conserve what I have to finish the week. I am not looking at it day by day. I see it in the entirety and make some sort of ways to make sure I completed ✔️ another straight 5 days of 7. Day 2 today. I wasn’t able to fill up all the blanks in my worksheet 🗒because I had no pen 🖊 in the café. I thought 💭 I kept one in my 🎒 backpack. I did back. I am not as sore. I still feel my back legs 🦵🏾 taut. I am thinking 🤔 perhaps it wasn’t the personal training session on the area. It Cardioing the Right way 👟 . My legs are now actually doing the work no hands on the bars. I wished I had a journal 📓. It would be nice not to be laser focus. Be distracted, disorderly and doing output instead on focusing input. Everybody was very aware at how they relate to the space. They were all in attention. Well others stiffer than others. But I smiled 😃 a lot. Ian was there. For some reason he came off strict and nasty mean yesterday. Just yesterday. Impatient? He’s usually the funny 😆 approachable easy going one. I love 💗 the new book 📚. I wanted to take notes on the further reads at the back book 📖 cover. But it was a mind blowing 🤯 topic. I am so eager to follow along. I had bits and pieces. I think 🤔 the Outrace area is pretty cool 😎. There was a girl she hung in one of the grab bars. I was always bad at monkey 🐒 bars. I wondered to myself why I chose the band instead of the TRX things. It came first to me and also I had to make sure I am not whooped the next day. I was ill-at-ease with my forms. Vie, that’s the idea 💡 . I have to make sure I am doing it correctly. I keep on checking my behind and make sure I am not displaying my old Victoria’s Secrets and my moon 🌝 buns.

Ugh 😑, it doesn’t always have to be the same way. Life is not in a well-controlled cog. At least for me. I keep running to the bathroom. Vie, more than the liquids and some fear at the back of your mind your belly. Yeah, I know. At least I get to freshen up and reapply make up. There was this guy who made eye contact with me and lingered. Yeah, I was malicious. Defense. Defense. 👏🏾 I put some lotion 🧴 as my lack of gloves 🧤 makes my hands dry sensitive. Also, the towels are softer and easier on the skin. Yeah, I noticed. Mariah explained to me that they have new towels and soap 🧼. Since we are at it, my water 💦 from the tap taste like peppery. I was like, is it coming from what I ate like lingering taste 😛. Weirdo. That’s my name for Mark Consuelo. I hope 🤞🏾 he doesn’t think me mean and rude and insulting. I am not catcalling him at all. Yeah. Yeah. I am just being nice.

I didn’t get a shot of my area. It was too busy at least to my perception. A lot is going on. Hysterical 😩. Vie, cool 😎 cub. I should take off my headphones 🎧 to stress 😬 me out tension. I like my listening 👂🏾 pleasure. But ok. I’ll work with on earpiece today for the heck. The suave guy waved at me and I was wondering why so I said hi 👋🏾 back. It was at the hallway. He checked in my Dad one weekend. I should have asked for his name for appreciation. I wasn’t in the tally mood because nothing was going right. I had no pen 🖊 to complete my fitness log, the Internet 🌐 is slow, I want to get to the sauna 🧖🏼‍♀️. Did I smell Eucky? It wasn’t pronounced. I wasn’t in a hurry. I had plenty of time ⏱. I ran into my Mom in the bathroom before Dance Jams 💃🏼. I met her in the classroom. I found out the name of my Korean friend and wondered if I am saying it right. I took it easy like I told Shelly. She was at it yesterday. Angie is fun 🎊. I was enjoying 😊 myself like everybody else. You don’t realize that her exercises are high in intensity. Oooh 😯, that last song 🎼 my thighs are on fire 🔥. I was thinking 💭 to hold on, “Strong legs.” I think I saw L’Tan. I was trying to get a leaving selfie 🤳🏾. I thought 💭 I look 👀 a lot like holding it in 😂. Head shake.

I was hungry 😋 before going to bed 🛏 at 1200a. I had fruits 🍍 and it didn’t cut it. What happened to intermittent fasting. But I am feeling the need to eat 🥙. The better part is it’s not sugar. Ooooh, 😮 I want those caramel cookies 🍪 . I also saw essential oils for the total health and wellness practitioner 🙏🏾. What the heck— Hip-pish-ster 👓.

0 notes