#so excited for sleepless to hear this in the live stream next month and go to town.

[monards]

god is real

[nctsjiho]

Hi, I would like to know what would have happend if Jiho won the lawsuit against SM, with NCT, the fandoms & public reaction?

this is a part 2 to this previous ask ^^ thx anon of the request <3

cw: strong language, some members are not mentioned

"Lim Jiho, formally known as JiHo from NCT, wins lawsuit against former label: SM Entertainment" "Long awaited victory for Lim Jiho against SM" "How SM Entertainment mistreated former NCT member, JiHo"

After seemingly endless months of trips to the courtroom, having long conversations with lawyers and sleepless nights, Jiho finally checks out on her last night in a hotel in Seoul.

"Miss Lim?" She turns around after handing her room key to the receptionist and finds a tall man eye her expectantly. She nods, urging the man to speak. "We'll be escorting you to your taxi," he motions to the three even taller men standing behind him. They are all wearing black clothing, chests puffed out and arm muscles bulging under their shirts; security guards.

"My father really went all out didn't he?" Jiho chuckles, but the man closest to her doesn't say anything. Immediately, her eyes focus on the commotion outside. Fans and journalists standing at the entrance the hotel waiting for Jiho to emerge.

"Mr. Dubois wanted to make sure you'd get to the airport untouched. He knew the result of the lawsuit would cause a commotion no matter the result. You'll be escorted until you reach home safely."

Home Jiho replays the word in her head. "Let's go then," she smiles and the man nods, grabbing her suitcase from her. They escort her out, trying to keep enough distance between JiHo and the crowd.

Once in the car, after waving at her fans, she looks down at her phone. Doyoung's contact name blinks at her and she smiles, reading the message underneath it.

From my rock Doyoung🐇

Have a safe flight! We'll talk soon! Even if you leave, you can't get rid of us😉❤️

Doyoung, Taeyong, Yuta, Johnny, Chenle and Renjun would all be at home watching the live reporting from outside of court for Jiho's lawsuit against the company. As soon as they reported that Jiho had won, they would all jump out of their seats, cheering loudly, hugging the person next to them and calling their friends and family to relay the amazing news. They don't even think twice about any implications this has towards the company or even the group, basking in the happiness and excitement of the moment. These boys are also the type to give zero fucks about bringing Jiho up or talking about the whole lawsuit (although subtly) during their live streams in front of their fans or during interviews.

"I was sitting on the edge of my seat while waiting for the result," he says so easily. The other member looks at him and gives him an uneasy chuckle before looking at how the live comments start to move rapidly over his phone screen. "I'm just glad that everything is settled now."

Haechan, Mark, Jungwoo and Jeno would feel a bit emotional after hearing the result. At first they are happy that everything is finally over, but soon enough they realise that this really is the end. Jiho had won and there was really no going back from there. It's a bittersweet moment, although a little conflicting. It takes a few days for them to figure out their feelings, with days that the bitter outdoes the sweet, but ultimately they are happy for Jiho.

"Wah..." he sighs. His heart feels a bit heavy, but a the same time he feels like a weight has been lifted of his shoulders. "I can't believe it's actually over." It comes out as almost a whisper, while he physically swallows down all his mixed emotions.

Jisung, Xiaojun and Hendery wouldn't be able to even watch the news reporting on the case. They are fidgety, asking the members if there was any news already, but at the same time asking them not to tell them because they were too nervous. When they hear that she has won they can almost not believe it. There might be some tears that are shed, but eventually they are just happy about it.

"Tell me if there's news," he yells to the members in the living room, pacing in the hallway outside of his own room. "Scratch that, actually! I don't think I can— WHAT? SHE WON?" his voice jumps up a few octaves. "Oh my God, I'm freaking out— SHE WON!"

The second Kun, Jaemin and Jaehyun hear the good news, they grab their phones and send Jiho a message. Sure they are happy for her, but the first thought that pops into their minds is their concern for her wellbeing. The whole case must have been very taxing on her mental and physical health with the amount of attention it has been getting. These three would also want nothing more than to be with her in the courtroom, but since she was suing their own company, they couldn't do that. Afterwards, these boys wouldn't like people bring up Jiho during NCT schedules. She left the group and she wants to live her life calmly back at home now, and Kun, Jaemin and Jaehyun would try their hardest to fulfil that wish for her.

"Do you still have contact with Ji—" He cuts of the question with a cough. "We would like to respect Jiho's privacy now that she's no longer in the public eye," he states firmly which shocks both his members and the interviewer. "She's been through a lot, I think she would prefer that we let her live her life peacefully. "And I personally would be more comfortable with that, too."

NCTzens and other kpop fans would be (mostly) ecstatic. Since the lawsuit would take a while to get settled, more and more attention was put on the case. Jiho's following would grown and more people would start rooting for her. Of course their would be some people who would hate on Jiho just for the sake of hating on her, or because they feel like "she made too big of a deal out of it" and that she didn't deserve the win. But the louder majority of supporters would celebrate the win in the way that stans do it best. Go on social media and post a bunch of memes about the whole thing, clowning SM and antis.

The general public doesn't care too much about the lawsuit, but it definitely reached their ears. The general consensus, though, is that Jiho winning the case is a pretty big thing because she was almost alone (bar her family and lawyers on her immediate side) against one of the biggest companies in the South Korean entertainment industry (and consequently her members, but she iterated clearly that she still loves the boys and never had hard feelings towards them).

There are of course some antis, butthurt "fans" and even sasaeng fans who are completely against Jiho's win. They try to harass her online and some even go as far as following her around in Korea and even harassing her in France. Luckily Jiho's father isn't afraid to get the police involved and some of the members who take note of this even ask people to stop harassing their friend. It blows over quick enough and Jiho is able to live a peaceful life with her friends and family, while maybe planning to step back into the public eye in the future or to pursue a career as a choreographer. One thing is sure though, Jiho doesn't want to go back to being an idol anymore.

---

S/N: idk why I'm having so much fun writing about JiHo not being in NCT anymore but I am (^_^;) should we make this a kind of series?? with different scenarios of JiHo and the boys after she has left SM and the group? though I don't know if there is much else to write about... idk we shall see! As this is an "imagine" series though, any and all scenarios are possible and if you have anything you'd like to see, let me know ;D Thank you anon for the request🤍💚🤍

masterlists: main masterlist || jiho.writings masterlist

[shinazugawaswife]

If You Love Him - Harry Styles

This is based on the song If You Love Her by Forest Blakk

This song breaks my heart every time I listen to it, and I just thought of this idea. It honestly made me so sad to write and I really got in my feels, so I’m sorry beforehand if it’s too sad, but I’m actually really proud of it so I hope you enjoy<3 (Olivia Wilde appears in this, and it’s in no way meant negatively towards her) 

Summary: you have a hard time living without Harry, and when you find out he’s seeing someone else it breaks your heart and you write a song to his new lover

Warnings: none, it’s just sad:’(

Not my gif, so creds to the owner

You sat in front of the piano, fingers brushing the keys, just barely touching them. You've been crying all day it felt like, and now you just felt numb. You were absolutely drained of all your energy and you felt like you could fall asleep on the spot, but every time you tried closing your eyes, old memories flooded your brain a thousand miles per hour and prevented sleep from taking you with it.

You missed him, fuck you missed him so much. It was so hard just breathing without him and it felt like climbing a mountain just getting through one day without Harry beside you. You barely slept, just the thought of waking up and not seeing him in bed next to you, was enough to start a waterfall of tears streaming down your face. Every day you were in physical pain too, your stomach was in knots, your head was pounding from all the crying and your body had gotten so used to just laying in bed that your muscles had started hurting too from lack of use.

Every day was a hell to go through, but today had been the worst without a doubt. Nothing could ever compare to the feeling you'd felt when you’d checked Twitter that morning and saw rumors that Harry had found someone new. It had been all over the internet after a picture had been caught of him and someone else from the night before. Even though your brain had begged you to stop looking at the pictures and just turn off your phone, you'd spent the entire morning reading articles and fan theories. Eventually, it had hurt more than you could bear and you'd put down your phone and spent the rest of the day soaking your pillow from your unstoppable fountain of tears.

Now it was some time in the middle of the night, maybe around 3 a.m? You honestly didn't know. You hadn't touched your phone since you'd tossed it away earlier and you hadn't moved from your bed until an hour ago when you'd made your way to the piano in your living room.

One time what felt like an eternity ago, Harry had found you absolutely devasted after you thought a heavy argument with one of your close friends had led to the end of your friendship, and he'd told you: "some times emotions are easier to feel if you express them through music" and he'd made you sit down on the same piano bench you were sitting on now, listening while you wrote a song about every emotion that you'd felt. You remembered how he'd been right, that the feelings had actually been more bearable after you'd sang the words. Maybe it would work that way this time too? Honestly, at this point, you were willing to try anything to minimize the painful aching in your chest.

You'd just been staring at the piano in front of you for the last hour though, no words coming to mind that could express exactly what you were feeling. You kept thinking of Harry with this new person: was he with her right now, lying next to her in bed? Were they cuddling? Did he pull her tight to his chest while his head rested atop of hers as he'd always done with you? Were they having deep pillow talks till far into the night, like the two of you used to? Did he touch her the way he'd touched you? Did her entire body ignite whenever he kissed her, as yours had always done?

You knew who she was, Olivia Wilde, the director of the movie Harry had worked so hard on the last couple of months. You remembered the day he'd come home, so excited that he'd gotten the role in the movie, and you'd been equally as excited for him and so fucking proud. Not once had you imagined that you'd be sitting here now, while Harry was starting a new relationship with her. Was she treating him right? You fucking hoped so. Even though you wanted to hate her with your entire being, you couldn't seem to be mad at her. Maybe she was giving him what you couldn't, maybe he was happier with her. God, he deserved to be so happy.

Suddenly a thought formed in your head and the fingers that had only been lightly touching the piano keys now pressed down to make the instrument play out a soft melody.

Take it If he gives you his heart Don't you break it

Your voice was weak as it escaped from your lips. You hadn't spoken to a lot of people the past couple of weeks, having barely used your voice and you couldn't even remember the last time you'd been singing. Losing Harry had made you shy away from your passion for music and writing, too many memories.

Let your arms be a place He feels safe in He's the best thing that you'll ever have

You kept going as the words formed in your head, directing the song to Harry's new lover. Even though it brought you so much pain to see Harry with someone else, you were willing to let him go if she was for him what he needed. All you wanted was for him to be happy and complete, you wanted him to have the world and you'd never been able to give him that.

Memories started appearing in your head like flashbacks behind your closed eyelids. Memories that you and Harry had shared, memories that made you smile slightly even though it shattered your heart to know that you would never share moments like them with him again. While being with Harry, you were the happiest you'd ever been and maybe you were never gonna feel that again, but it was okay as long as he was happy.

He always has trouble Falling asleep And he likes to cuddle While under the sheets

You'd spent many long nights next to Harry in bed, running your fingers through his hair and speaking softly to help him find sleep when it had been so hard for him. He'd always told you how there was no feeling that could compare to being curled up to you in bed, holding you so close to him that you could hear his heartbeat. The most peaceful moments you'd ever experienced with him were these intimate moments where you never wanted to move out of his embrace, praying that you could just stay in his arms forever.

Reality hit you now, that those moments were long gone, but you just wished with all your heart that she would hug him just the way he loved it and that she would be there for him during those sleepless nights he had when adrenaline wouldn't stop running through his body after working too much, or whenever a storm of thoughts in his head was keeping him awake.

He loves Pop songs And dancing, and bad trash TV

Harry's taste in music had always been something else. It was so wide, almost every genre of music was presented on his playlist, but you remembered you'd been surprised when you found all the cliche pop songs on there. You knew, of course, that Harry had spent five years in a boyband, singing pop songs, but to you, he just hadn't seemed like the type to listen to Ariana Grande and Katy Perry, but you'd been so wrong.

You couldn't count how many romcoms and shitty reality shows you'd watched with Harry during your time together. He'd always found them very enjoyable, and you would be lying if you didn't enjoy the times you'd been cuddled up to him on the couch while watching Love Island and discussing all the people you voted for and all the people you absolutely couldn't stand with each other.

He loves love notes and babies And likes giving gifts

A single tear escaped your eye and ran down your cheeks at the thought of all the love notes Harry had given you in the past. After you'd started dating, you'd worn his clothes so much, just because it smelled like him. His hoddies, shirts, sweatpants, jackets, you'd stolen it all from him, you're excuse being that it was more comfortable than your own clothes. Harry had never minded though, in fact, he'd always loved to see you walk into the kitchen in his shirt in the mornings or walk out of the house in a pair of his sweatpants paired with something like a white tank top.

At some point, he started putting little notes in the pockets of his hoddies or pants, knowing you'd put the items on the next day and find the sweet notes he hid. It was just small things like I love you or have a great day, love or excited to see you tonight, but they had always melted your heart, making you love him just that more.

Has a hard time accepting A good compliment

Harry had always showered you with compliments, every chance he got, always making you smile. You'd always made sure to tell Harry what an amazing person he was and how talented he was, how beautiful his music was and how absolutely gorgeous he looked, and every single time a sweet comment like that had left your mouth, Harry had blushed slightly while looking down at his feet. He would start making excuses, saying that it was nothing special every time you were amazed by a new song he'd written, and telling you he didn't know what you were talking about every time you'd told him how good he looked.

Knowing that he'd never been good at receiving compliments, you'd made sure to attack him with them all the time, and even though he never admitted it, you knew he thought about your words with a lot of consideration, eventually, you hoped, he started believing them.

You just wanted her to keep telling him those sweet things every day because he needed to hear them.

He loves his whole family And all of his friends

You thought of Harry's family and how he'd been so proud when he'd introduced you to them for the first time. He always put his family above everyone and though he didn't see them as much as he wanted to, he made sure that they never questioned how much they meant to him.

You'd admired the relationship he had with his family, especially his mother and sister, you could just tell how much he adored them. You'd never really had a home with that kind of love. You were an only child, so no siblings, and your mother had passed away while you were still young, leading your father into years of alcoholism and depression.

You'd never felt safe and loved until you met Harry, he was your family. That was probably the hardest part for you to let go of, the feeling of safety you'd had whenever you were wrapped in his arms or from simply being in the same room as him.

He was such a giving person, never asking for much. He had a lot of friends and they all adored him, how could they not? He had this ability to make you feel so special and he was such a good listener too, giving you all his attention whenever you told him something, not letting anything distract him.

So if you're the one he lets in Take it If he gives you his heart Don't you break it Let your arms be a place He feels safe in He's the best thing that you'll ever have He'll love you If you love him

You sang, and god, the words hurt. It felt like your chest was being pried open and your heart ripped out and shredded into pieces. You had to mov eon though, for your own good. You never wanted to forget Harry, he would always have a piece of you, but this grieve that you were feeling had to decrease, you could barely live a life when it hurt so bad.

If Olivia was the one for Harry, then so be it, if she made him happy you couldn't argue. Obviously you hadn't made him as happy as he'd made you, but you hadn't realized that until he'd walked out the door and it was too late. He had let go of you and now it was time for you to do the same, you just wanted, no needed her to treat him right.

On days when It feels like the whole World might cave in Stand side by side And you'll make it He's the best thing that you'll ever have He'll love you If you love him like that

You always thought that Harry and you could get through anything, and your relationship had been put to a lot of tests throughout your time together but never had you thought that one of these obstacles would actually get the better of you.

You remembered that day so clearly. The day your whole world fell apart slowly with every step Harry took towards your front door, and it all crashed down on you when he sat down in his car and drove away without even one last glance in your direction. You hadn't talked to him after that, but still, he remained the single thing on your mind 24/7. It hurt you how quickly he had moved on, but you couldn't be mad because you felt at blame for your relationship ending in the first place.

Harry had always said that as long as you stood together, then absolutely nothing could come in the way of you two, and the only time you hadn't been side by side, that's when you fell apart. You'd always appreciated him so much, sometimes you'd thought it was impossible to care so much for another human as you cared about Harry.

Your hands started shaking a bit and you could feel the tears slowly appearing in the corner of your eyes. You would never stop caring about Harry, he had such an impact on your life, what were you supposed to do without him? God, would this pain ever stop? As you started the second verse, the tears escaped your eyes and silently ran down your cheeks.

Kiss him with passion As much as you can

You missed kissing Harry. Just his touch had been such an essential part of your day and now that you didn't get to feel that, you needed it more than anything. When you thought of it, it was as if you could still feel his lips on yours, kissing you softly.

You'd kissed a number of guys before you met Harry and you'd thought all of them had been fairly good, but that was until you kissed Harry. You'd shared your first kiss one day while you'd been chilling at Harry's and he just couldn't stop himself as you'd stood in his kitchen and looked so beautiful. You knew Harry had experience, but you remember being completely taken aback by how comfortable the kiss was. It wasn't too wet, but not entirely without his tongue roaming your mouth either. He'd grabbed your waist while your arms snaked their way around his neck, and he'd tasted good after the smoothies he'd made for the two of you earlier that day. You hadn't been able to get enough and he had seemed to have the same problem because you'd barely taken your hands off each other for the rest of the night.

Harry was a very affectionate person and he’d loved holding you, kissing you, just touching you in general. It had made you feel so loved and now where that feeling had belonged in your chest, was just emptiness. You were certain no one could ever make you feel the way Harry had, he could make your entire body feel like it was on fire just by holding your hand.

Run your hands through his hair Whenever he's sad

It wasn't often Harry had been sad in front of you, let alone cried, but it had happened a couple of times, and many times he'd come home and you'd been able to see that something was wrong, but he would deny it. It wasn't because he’d been embarrassed to be sad in front of you, but he’d often pushed it away because he didn't want to burden you. You knew him well though and you could tell the second he would walk in the door, that something was wrong. If he didn't want to talk about it, mostly you'd just put a romcom on the television and pulled him into your arms while you'd cuddled on the sofa, gently running your fingers through his soft curls. You would do anything to brush your fingers through his hair right now...

And when he doesn't notice How amazing he is Tell him over and over

So he never forgets

On the outside, Harry had always made a great effort to appear confident and independent, but when you'd managed to get to know him behind that exterior, you'd discovered that he had a bunch of his own insecurities. He always questioned if his music was good enough, if his performances were good enough, if he was a good idol, if he deserved everything he had, if he was good enough.

Once you'd found out he felt this way a lot of the time, you'd always made sure to tell him how absolutely extraordinary you thought he was. You hoped that she would tell him too, help him build a better image of himself in his head.

You managed to get through the chorus again before your feelings became too overwhelming and you had to stop. Your fingers halted on the piano while your tears had become slightly more uncontrollable.

You couldn't help but think that you were pathetic for sitting here when Harry had clearly moved on with someone else. You'd realized how much your joy had depended on him, but you had to be able to live a life without him. How could you move on when Harry had completed you though?

It was cliche, but you felt like you were missing a part of you and without Harry, you would never be able to get it back. It was like he'd been too good for you, so he had been taken away from you. You had always known you didn't deserve him, but you'd tried your very hardest to be worthy of his love, but you weren't and now someone was making you pay for those years where you'd been granted his affection without actually deserving it.

What were you supposed to do? How the fuck were you supposed to live a life when your source of happiness had been taken away from you?

With tears still in your eyes and your body shaking, you removed yourself from the piano and went back to bed, hoping that maybe tomorrow would be the day he would come knocking at your door, because moving on from him clearly wasn’t an option...

——————————————————————————

A/n: I've got a bunch of requests that's been sitting in my inbox for so long and I'm sorry I haven't gotten around to them. A bunch of them are with JJ and I just haven't been in the mood to write for him lately, I've just kinda been diving deeper and deeper into my Harry obsession (when am I not), but I'll get around to them at some point. Again I'm really sorry, school is just really stressing me out too, so I haven't been writing much at all, please don't stop requesting though<3

[kpop-zone]

Red Velvet reaction to their s/o finding out that they started dating them for a bet

Irene

As soon as Joohyun noticed that you were falling quiet, she knew that her lie had blown up. For over a year, she had managed to hide the truth about your first encounter in order to protect you. But now Sooyoung’s improvidence had to make everything crumble. Joohyun couldn’t be mad at her friend though. It had always only been a matter of time till she had to be honest with you. She knew that lies didn’t travel far. Sooyoung had just been the trigger to unveil everything.

Therefore, Joohyun gave you space the rest of the evening until your guests finally went home and left the two of you alone in your apartment. You still decided to weight down the atmosphere with heavy silence and Joohyun was getting more anxious by the minute. Eventually, she couldn’t take it anymore and neared you carefully. Slowly, she lifted her hands and barely grazed your skin with her fingertips, but you flinched as if she had hurt you.

“Is it true?”

You asked with a shaky voice while keeping your back turned to her.

Joohyun knew that she could pretend to be clueless right now or play everything down. But you didn’t deserve that. After everything, you deserved the truth.

“Yes.”

She simply answered, causing a heart wrenching sob to echo in the room that was making her breath hitch in her throat.

“Y/N...”

The words in Joohyun’s brain were completely jumbled and she didn’t know where to start. All these months, she had known that this day would come eventually, but now that it was there, she was completely caught off guard, nevertheless. A simple apology wouldn’t be able to cut it. Her silence, however, was probably making everything worse.

“So it was all a lie?”

You finally piped up through your tears and turned around to face her.

This time, Joohyun didn’t need a second to find an answer.

“No! Of course not! The girls just bet that I wouldn’t ask you out. But everything after that was real. I stayed out of interest; I swear.”

Her voice cracked and tears started pooling in her eyes when Joohyun saw the pain in your face.

You didn’t believe her.

“How can I know that you’re telling the truth now? What if this is all still part of your sick bet?”

Joohyun’s worst nightmare became true with your question, but after countless sleepless nights, she still didn’t have an answer to it.

How could she prove to you that she was being honest this time?

“Please, Y/N. I’m not lying.”

She whispered in desperation, but you only scoffed in response.

“Just...leave me alone.”

With that, you rushed off to the bedroom and slammed the door.

Alone in the living room, Joohyun’s walls finally broke down and she started crying silently.

“I love you.”

She choked out between sobs, although you weren’t able to hear her words.

If you asked her for space, she would give you as much as you needed. This was all her fault. She should have never agreed to take such an evil bet. She should have never kept the truth from you. But something had told her all along that the truth would cause a deep rift between the two of you and she simply couldn’t lose you.

She would do anything to keep you in her life.

Seulgi

“Hm I bet...you won‘t ask Y/N out.”

The distant sound of a video recording made Seulgi’s blood freeze. She knew that sentence, the loud song blaring in the background, the mischievous laughs of her friends. In lightning speed, she ran to the bedroom, but when she arrived it was already too late. Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you stared at the screen of her old phone that she had carelessly given to you after you had lost yours. The sight caused tears to well in her own eyes and she slowly walked up to you.

“It’s not what it looks like...”

You flinched in surprise at first, but when you realized who the voice belonged to, even more tears stained your face.

“Then why are you crying?”

You chuckled sadly, hurt resonating in your voice.

“I...do-...yo-....please.”

At a loss for words, Seulgi stuttered incomprehensible syllables while heavy sobs made it almost impossible to choke out a sound.

“Just tell me that this isn’t real. Tell me that you wouldn’t lie to me.”

Your voice was shaking in desperation and Seulgi would love nothing more than to fulfill your wishes.

But she couldn’t.

Because she had done those terrible things. She had betrayed you and instead of coming clean to you, she had been lying to you all along.

“I’m so sorry.”

Seulgi cried out while collapsing next to you onto the bed.

Her own sobs resonating in the room blurred with yours and Seulgi imagined hearing both of your hearts break in that moment.

A dip in the mattress caused her to lift her head though and she could see that you had jumped off the bed.

“No! Don’t go! Let’s talk. I swear I love you.”

Seulgi begged but you dismissed her by shaking your head.

“I can’t. Our relationship has been built on a lie; that’s not a solid foundation. You wouldn’t build a house on quicksand, would you?”

The finality of your words felt like they were choking her windpipe and Seulgi gasped for air.

“No, don’t say that.”

She replied, but you already started walking to the door. Without turning back, you left her behind in the room and exited the apartment. Feeling her world crushing down on her, Seulgi threw herself on the bed and buried her head in a pillow to silence her sobs.

What a monster did she have to be to betray a person like you?

Her guilt was pressing her down until the door of her room swung open again and she heard the agitated voices of her members. She sat up to face them, but as soon as she saw the worry in their eyes, her helplessness came rushing back.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Those were the last words she managed to choke out before breaking down once more and feeling herself getting buried in a hug by her members.

Wendy

“Ok I definitely know that something is wrong, even if you deny it. You didn’t sing in the car! So spill it.”

You giggled as the two of you entered your apartment after returning from your date night that was supposed to be cute and fun. But no matter how hard Seungwan tried, she couldn’t act like everything was alright.

Because it wasn’t.

The two of you had hit it off right from the start and she had tried to store the memories of your first encounter far, far back in her head. But her bad conscious was killing her. She needed to come clean, even if it meant that she would ruin what you had.

“I need to tell you something. I haven’t been honest with you.”

Seungwan blurted out, causing the smile on your face to disappear.

“What’s wrong?”

The concern in your voice was breaking Seungwan’s heart, because it was clear that you were concerned for her and not expecting a betrayal. You couldn’t be more wrong though.

“I think, we should sit down for this.”

She sighed while sitting down at the table. She would try to confess everything in the gentlest way possible, but she knew that there was probably no way to prevent the pain.

You looked confused as you sat down across from her, but you mainly seemed to be worried for her. There had always been nothing but trust between the two of you and she knew that she would be breaking it tonight. For a second, Seungwan felt like lying once more and keeping her secret forever. Then, however, she remembered that she could never say that she truly loved you while holding back a lie. Therefore, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes before starting to confess.

“You remember the night we met? It wasn’t a coincidence that I started dancing with you of all people. We were all pretty wasted and Yeri dared me to flirt with you until you grab a drink with me.”

After rattling off her confession, Seungwan slowly peeked her eyes open to see an utter look of disbelief on your face, causing her to feel nauseous.

“I’m sorry for not having been completely honest with you. And I know that what I have done is truly awful and that what I am about to say will probably mean nothing to you, but...please believe me, everything after that night has been real!”

Seungwan used your speechlessness to add an explanation even though she guessed that you needed a while to process everything. Nevertheless, she needed to get that off her chest.

“I...I need time to think.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it was the answer that Seungwan had expected all along.

Therefore, she stood up from the table and walked to the front door to leave. Before exciting the apartment, however, she turned around.

“Take as much time as you need. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Joy

“Y/N!! No, wait!!”

Sooyoung’s voice cracked as she was yelling at the top of her lungs while rushing past you to block your way.

Breathlessly, she looked into your tearstained face. She was just so angry. You should have never learned about the circumstances of your first encounter. Why did it matter? In the end, she had been drawn to you because of you; because you had made her fall in love. Therefore, everyone had agreed to never lose a word about that godforsaken bet. But tonight, Hyoseob just had to break his promise. If you hadn’t run away, Sooyoung was sure that she would have made him a head shorter. But you had wanted to slip away from her, so she needed to chase you.

“Let me explain!”

Sooyoung asked, but you shook your head reluctantly.

“What is there to explain? You played me, you lied to me, you hid things from me. I think it’s pretty clear.”

You yelled, catching the attention of the other guests in the restaurant. But Sooyoung couldn’t care less. She wouldn’t let you walk out of her life; she needed to make it up to you.

“It’s not clear! Yes, I’ve took that stupid bet, but that was just that one time. All the other times I took you out were because I fell in love with you.”

Sooyoung softened her voice and tried moving closer to you, but you backed away.

“Is that so? Or maybe someone else dared you to even make me fall in love with you.”

Your accusation made Sooyoung gasp appalled.

“NO! I would have never toyed with your feelings like that. It was just that one date. Y/N you know me! I love you.”

Her anger had completely vanished by now which left her with pure desperation instead. This was exactly why she had never wanted to talk about this bet ever again. Of course, you felt betrayed. You had every right to. But you shouldn’t. The past didn’t matter anymore; she truly loved you now.

“But you did toy with my feelings! I always thought it was love at first sight between the two of us. Can you even imagine how much it hurts to learn that it wasn’t? That it was all just a game to you?”

Your pain could be heard in your voice and the sound of it crushed Sooyoung’s heart.

What was she supposed to reply now? There was no one on this planet that loved you more than her, but it was true, it hadn’t been love at first sight for her. Without the bet, she probably would have never talked to you.

“It’s not a game to me now anymore though...”

Sooyoung whispered while tears streamed down her cheeks as she realized that she was talking to a brick wall; deservingly.

“I don’t care.”

You scoffed before pushing past her to exit the restaurant.

What had she done? Where did everything go wrong? Could she have prevented all of this if she had talked to you earlier?

Questions over questions flooded Sooyoung’s brain and she started to feel dizzy. There was one thing that she knew for sure though.

This couldn’t be the end of your relationship.

With that thought on her mind, Sooyoung rushed through the door and into the night to chase you.

Yeri

“Aw...that’s just how we met.”

You giggled before snuggling up to Yeri while the two of you were watching a cheesy romance. Your comment should have caused butterflies to erupt in her stomach, but instead, Yeri felt a stinging pain in her heart.

It was exactly like the two of you met...except that she had talked to you in order to win a bet.

Everything about your first encounter had been a lie. She had told you that she loved the artist whose song you had been dancing to excitedly; although she really hated that song. But she had wanted to get your number and to ask you out, so it was a necessary lie. All for 100,000 Won. Back then she hadn’t known that you would simply blow her away on your first date. She had thought that it was nothing but a way to prove her friends wrong. But in the end, it had been her that was proven wrong. One date turned into countless ones and she turned from a random stranger to your girlfriend.

The secret about your first encounter, however, stayed. Since your second date, Yeri had wanted to confess to you, but she didn’t know how to. Every time, she was close to telling you the truth, she chickened out in the last minute. No matter how many scenarios Yeri played in her head, there was never one in which you stayed together after her confession. She wouldn’t know how to mend the broken trust between the two of you. But with every day, her anxiety had grown. What if you did find out by accident one day? And how was she supposed to lie to you for the rest of your lives? This secrecy was following her like a dark shadow, no matter where she went.

“Yeri...are you crying?”

Your voice pulled Yeri back into reality and she found your eyes filled with worry. She didn’t bother to wipe away her tears. Instead, she let you pull her into a hug whose comfort she selfishly accepted. You were giving her comfort, although she was the one that had been playing you.

“What’s wrong?”

You asked after leaning back a bit to wipe away her tears.

“I can’t tell you. You will never talk to me again if I do.”

She sobbed but you instantly shook your head.

“What are you talking about?! You can always talk to me, Yeri. Please tell me what is bothering you.”

You replied while intertwining your hands to give hers an encouraging squeeze.

In that moment, Yeri realized that she couldn’t lie to you anymore. You didn’t deserve it and she wouldn’t be able to keep the secret from you forever. You were her safe haven after all; the one that she turned to no matter what hurdles she had to overcome. She needed to be honest.

“Promise me that you’ll stay.”

Despite her wish to be honest, Yeri couldn’t risk losing you. Even if she knew that this promise probably wouldn’t mean anything afterwards, she needed your assurance to give her enough courage to overcome her fear.

“You’re scaring me...”

For the first time tonight, you moved away from her and Yeri immediately felt her heart breaking. This would only be the beginning; she was sure of that.

“I only asked you out because of a bet.”

Not being able to hold in the secret any longer, Yeri simply blurted out the truth. Consequently, a variety of emotions flashed over your face, but in the end, a sadness that she had never seen before settled in your eyes.

“So you didn’t even like me?”

You asked shakily after a while, causing Yeri to lower her gaze in shame.

While she was still searching for the right words, a sudden loud sob made Yeri flinch and she looked at you in shock. Your face was buried behind your hands, but she could still see that you were crying heavily. Out of habit, she put her arms around you, only to feel you pushing her away a second later.

“Don’t touch me!”

You yelled, cutting a deep hole into her heart.

Helplessly, Yeri backed off and watched you crying. There was nothing that could compare to the pain that she was feeling right now, knowing that she had caused you this misery. Nevertheless, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. There had to be a way that she could fix this. You loved her and she loved you. Couldn’t the two of you just leave the past behind? You had to.

Therefore, she kept sitting next to you, silently crying herself while watching you falling apart.

[catboymingi]

papa, où t’es?

navi/masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 4.2k

warnings: language, emotional neglect

a/n: europeans hear this song and they go crazy. it’s me, i’m europeans

the entire world knows how to makes babies but no one knows how to make daddies, or stay: five times he didn’t and one time he did

stay.

//

the five times he didn’t:

one:

you’d both been so excited during the entire pregnancy, you’d been doing all the preparations together, you were happier than you’d ever been when you’d found out that you were pregnant, even though it hadn’t been planned. you weren’t ready yet, maybe, but you worked to be as ready as you could during those seven months you had after you’d found out, and you were convinced mingi was going to be the world’s best father, because he’d acted like it when you both were waiting for your little mini-me to be born.

but then the day of labour came, and you were screaming and crying and clinging to his hand because it hurt so fucking much, and though he’d watched videos of people giving birth to prepare himself the real thing was different, but he stayed with you anyway. he didn’t like it, the moment wasn’t among his happiest yet because it felt overwhelming and scary and you were crying so much because it hurt and you seemed so in pain and he had never been good at seeing you be in pain, never. still, he did it, he stayed and he held your hand and he got over himself and you couldn’t have been happier to have him there, and you were exhausted and just wanted him and your little daughter in your arms as soon as you were cleaned up and she was cleaned up, you wanted your little family all together.

but you didn’t get that. he left you as soon as the nurses had placed her little body on your chest, unable to look at the scene in front of him, entirely overwhelmed, and it hurt. it took away from the joy of the situation, because the one you’d wanted to share it with the most had left you, had walked out instead of taking a genuine look at his firstborn, at his child, at the little mini-him. he wasn’t even there when you told the doctors her name.

//

two:

mingi had tried his best to be there for you the following weeks, you and your daughter, he really did try to be the father and the husband you deserved. it was hard, of course it was, having a child was hard when you hadn’t been prepared, when you’d been forced to prepare for it suddenly, but it was worth it, to you it was worth the puked-on clothes, the smell of poop lingering, the crying and the sleepless nights. it was all worth it, because you had a family with him, you had a family with the man you loved, with the man you’d promised to love until your last breath, until death do us part, with the man and the child you loved more than anything else in this world. you’d chosen these people as your family, and they made you happy.

they had made you happy. a few weeks after her birth, a few weeks after you’d brought her home, when she was still screaming every single night and made it so hard to sleep, you had tried to wake mingi, to wake your love, so he could sing for her, something she loved - she loved her daddy’s voice more than she loved yours, and mingi had always sung for her when you’d asked him to or when he’d felt like she might appreciate it. but this night he didn’t wake up when you tried to make him, when she was crying and you were telling him to please help you, he just kept sleeping and you were worried until you saw those things in his ears. the ear plugs that you didn’t even know he had. and maybe if he’d asked you the night before you wouldn’t have minded, because this was hard, this was exhausting and he deserved the sleep, but he hadn’t asked. he hadn’t even told you. he’d just put the ear plugs in the night before without you noticing, and then he’d slept the entire night, leaving you to deal with your crying daughter and with the heartbreak by yourself.

//

three:

things didn’t get better from there on. as much as you hoped they would, as much as you liked to pretend they would, they never did, he never changed his behaviour. he continued to leave when you needed him the most.

but the most scarring experience up to that point was maybe your birthday, when you’d wanted to celebrate with him and your now seven months old daughter, when you’d wanted to celebrate this special day as a family, because that was what you were even if it didn’t always feel like it.

it was your birthday, yet you’d been the one to plan it all, set it all up, you’d been the one to organise a small party for the three of you, with a cake you’d baked while you had to watch your daughter by yourself, sparkling juice and toys for her to play so you could maybe have a few moments of silence with your love. it was your birthday, and you wanted to spend it with your family more than you wanted anything else.

he came back from work, exhausted, kissing you quickly as he made his way into the kitchen, and by the expression on his face when he saw the festive set-up you could tell he had forgotten. and you shouldn’t be angry at him, shouldn’t be as angry as you were, but you couldn’t help it. you couldn’t help feeling hurt and betrayed, feeling neglected because these past seven months he’d continuously left you alone, he’d continuously made you feel like he didn’t care about the family that wasn’t just yours but also his, about the family that he’d been so excited about before he actually got it. you didn’t know why it was, but he didn’t act like he loved you anymore. and now he’d forgotten your birthday, your literal birthday, and he just looked at you with that guilty expression while tears were starting to build up in your eyes, and then he went to the bedroom and closed the door behind him. he’d left you again, and both the kitchen and your heart felt emptier than ever.

//

four:

by your daughter’s first birthday five months later you’d given up on getting him to be there for you. you felt like a single mother, in all honesty, with the only difference that there was someone bringing home the money and someone in bed next to you, though that someone barely ever touched you anymore, not after you’d rejected him when he’d tried a few days after that horrible birthday. you were living next to each other, no longer with each other, and it broke your heart on the daily.

and then it was her birthday and you understood that he couldn’t stay home from work, that was okay, that wasn’t why you were upset. you were upset because he had the same expression on his face that you knew all too well when he came home, an overwhelmed expression, an expression that had you know right there that he wouldn’t stay the entire day. and if he couldn’t, you didn’t want him there at all.

your daughter’s grandparents were there, and when you asked them to take care of her for a moment while you talked to mingi they did, because they too had noticed that your relationship wasn’t how it should be, that he wasn’t acting the way he should, and in their opinion you should have left him months ago. but you didn’t want to, one year after he first left you you still hoped that he’d get over himself, that he’d change his behaviour and be if not a husband for you then a father for your daughter. but his expression told you that he wouldn’t be, not today, at least. so you talked to him.

“mingi”, you started when the door closed behind you, leaving both of you outside on the grass of your lawn that he’d tended to better than your relationship, “don’t go in.”

“why not?”, seeming genuinely surprised that you didn’t want him to ruin his daughter’s first birthday.

“if you can’t promise you’ll still be there to tuck her into bed tonight, don’t go in. let me tell her daddy needed to work today and that he’ll come with a big gift when she’s in bed, let me tell her that daddy wishes he could be there but sadly he has to earn the money to buy her a big gift. let me lie to her so that you won’t break her heart, mingi. because by now she’s old enough to notice that daddy is never there, that it’s just her and mommy, and that daddy doesn’t seem to want his family anymore.”

you were crying now, the hurt from the past year making its way out through tears streaming from your eyes that he wished he could wipe away, that he’d have wiped away if he hadn’t been so overwhelmed again, if he hadn’t felt like you didn’t even want him to try anymore.

“if you can’t be there when we go to bed tonight, don’t go in at all. don’t break her heart the way you’re breaking mine”, and because he was too scared to hurt you he left you, again, left you to cry on the porch as you watched him go until you were calm enough to continue pretending this was normal and he wasn’t entirely neglecting his family, his wife and his daughter.

//

five:

things still didn’t feel the same, not since you’d told him to leave on her birthday. it was obvious that he wouldn’t be there, and it had been more than a year now, more than a year of you having to do everything by yourself, of you being a single parent in every way except for financially. you’d taken to sleeping on the couch the past few nights, hoping your daughter wouldn’t notice your crying because you hid in the shower as you did so, closing the door to her room and hiding from your life the way mingi continued to do on the daily. there were barely any good days, barely any days where he deserved the title of a father, and your daughter was blabbering but barely talked about her daddy, because her daddy was never there.

you’d come to a conclusion, a conclusion that hurt your heart, but one that had to be reached sooner or later. you were going to kick mingi out, you were going to end this relationship, because while it had been so perfect in the beginning it hadn’t been the same since the birth of your gem, and if he couldn’t be a father when you’d made the decision to keep her together then he couldn’t be the husband you wanted.

so, today you weren’t crying your eyes out in the shower, you were crying your eyes out in the bedroom as you packed his bags.

“love, what are you doing?”, he asked you, completely overwhelmed with the situation, a state he’d found himself in way too often but that he’d never cared to do anything about, as it seemed to you, that he’d never known what to do about, as he knew it was.

“what does it look like? i’m packing your bags. you’re moving out.”

“don’t do this”, he begged, but this time it was you who was deaf to his pleading.

“if you want to keep the house, give me the time to find something new for my child and me.”

you didn’t even care to say “our child” anymore, because it hadn’t felt like she was his child right from the beginning, when he’d left you alone with her.

“you stay here, just- please, don’t make me leave. you’re my everything.”

you laughed at that, a bitter scoffing sound, because it certainly didn’t feel like you were anything at all for him other than a burden he had to return to every night.

“you’ve had enough time to show that, and you didn’t. don’t ask me to sleep in the same bed with you again when you haven’t even told me you love me in months. when you haven’t told your daughter that she means anything to you in months. i can’t do this to her, mingi, even if i wanted you to stay. i can’t have her deal with the fact that her daddy lives here but never cares enough to spend his time with her. it’s better if you’re not here at all. you have to understand that”, and you meant it. maybe you could deal with the pain of him not being there, but your daughter was noticing that her daddy was never around, and it was easier to explain his complete absence than it was to explain why he couldn’t seem to stand spending time with her for more than ten minutes.

“i’m sorry”, though he couldn’t argue with what you’d said. he hadn’t been acting right, he knew that, he just didn’t know what to do about it. and now he’d fucked up, he’d lost his family, the most important people in his life. he’d lost everything that he’d ever wanted, everything he’d promised himself he’d protect with his life. now it was him your hearts needed to be protected from.

“if you manage to get your shit together, you can come back. but don’t contact us until then. and if you don’t want to pay either, i’ll have to see you in court, but tell me now so i know to ask people for support until it’s settled. and now leave.”

“i’ll pay”, he promised, “and if you ever need more, tell me. i’ll give you all i can. if you get your own account, let me know and i’ll transfer it there. i won’t let you miss anything.”

this much you believed him, because he wasn’t a bad person, he was just a bad father. but at least you knew he wouldn’t let you starve, and you knew you wouldn’t have to fight him in court just to not end up on the streets. for this you were grateful, if not for much more.

“just leave, mingi”, you told him again, done with packing his bags, and he did, head hanging low, leaving the only people he’d ever really loved like this behind because he couldn’t be what they needed and what they deserved.

//

the one time he did:

you hadn’t expected to hear from mingi again. you honestly hadn’t. he hadn’t contacted you in roughly three months now, much like you’d asked of him, and you’d started building a life for yourself. your daughter went to kindergarten now, though maybe it was a little early since she was only one and a half years old, but you didn’t want to forever be financially dependent on mingi, so you’d started looking for a job yourself while you waited for the confirmation of a kindergarten spot. it had worked out, and now you were working part-time, earning enough to tell mingi that you didn’t need as much anymore, though his payments hadn’t decreased in amount. he didn’t want you to have to miss out on anything else, it was already bad enough that you had to miss out on a husband and a father for your daughter.

today, it was your anniversary, the second anniversary of your wedding, the second year of your marriage was starting in exactly thirty-three minutes, and you’d taken the day off to cry your eyes out as you looked at your dress because you still remembered how happy you’d felt when you’d said yes to him, and now everything was so bad, everything hurt so much and you were alone with your daughter and without the man you still loved so much, the man part of you still hoped would appear any moment to just make it all up to you.

and as if he’d heard your thoughts the doorbell rang, even though mingi still had a key. it was because of this that you tried to wipe the tears as well as you could, not expecting it to be him; not expecting him to remember your anniversary, if you were entirely honest. so you opened the door, and there he stood, wearing a suit that wasn’t his wedding suit - that one was still in your closet - but surprisingly similar, an unidentifiable expression on his face, flowers in one hand and a small bag in the other, a bag that clinked suspiciously as he moved, and the little toy store logo gave away that he’d bought toys for your daughter.

“i’m sorry”, he started, giving you the flowers and then fiddling with the handle of the plastic bag.

“come in”, because you didn’t want to leave him standing outside with a suit, looking so very out of place, and because part of you wanted to hear what he had to say.

“thank you”, taking his shoes off as soon as he was inside, and then handing you the little bag of toys, too.

“i don’t know what you’ve bought since i left, but i remember she didn’t have those yet when i last saw her.”

you were surprised by this - it had been three months, yet he remembered what toys your daughter owned? you hadn’t expected him to know she even owned any at all, except maybe because they made her shut up sometimes, something he seemed to love more than spending time with her.

“what do you want?”, voice hoarse from crying, and he knew what he wanted. he wanted to hold you and make it right.

“i want to apologise. i want to stay. i want to tell you that i’m really trying now, that i started therapy and that i realised that i just made things worse by always running away, when i just wanted to make them better. i was scared i wouldn’t be good enough, i was scared i’d end up hurting either of you, and i didn’t realise that nothing i could’ve done would’ve hurt as much as avoiding you. i want to tell you that i get why you kicked me out, and that i get it if you kick me out again, but that i’m doing all i can to be a good father and a good husband and that i just want to make you happy again. i don’t want you to be sad, not because of me, not if i can help it.”

it was a lot to take in at once, and you focused on the biggest thing he’d told you just now.

“you started therapy? when?”

“as soon as you kicked me out i looked for a therapist. that was kind of what i needed, i think. to realise that i’m not doing anything right the way i’m doing things, and that i need help. that i can’t keep running from my family just because i’m overwhelmed and scared i’m not good enough. so now i’m in therapy, roughly a month of weekly meetings.”

you nodded, taking in the new information. you hadn’t realised that had been how he’d felt, that he was scared of not being good enough. that he’d cared too much, in a way. you’d assumed he hadn’t cared enough to try harder.

“you never told me about this. that you felt this way, i never knew.”

“i know, and i’m sorry about that, too, and about not showing you how much i love you.”

love, not loved, you noticed, and it made your heart skip a beat.

“i just felt like i had to be strong, i shouldn’t be having these doubts because you were handling it all so well and things were so much harder on you. i wasn’t even there half of the time because of work, so why is it so much harder for me than for you? i felt like i was failing, and like you’d think so too if i told you. and then you didn’t want me to touch you anymore, so i felt like you didn’t want me anymore. and at that point it became impossible to talk about anything. i’m sorry.”

“i did want you to touch me”, you corrected him, “just not only in the dark of our room late at night when you’d just fuck me and leave me alone again the next morning. i wanted to be held, i wanted to feel loved, not just desired. i wanted to feel like how i feel means something to you, but to me it felt like it was your way of pretending nothing was wrong. so i didn’t want that, but i would’ve given everything for a kiss, or a hug, or for you to hold my hand, or-”

now you were crying, much like you’d been minutes before he’d arrived, and now that you’d told him you’d wished he’d held you he felt like maybe he could make up for even a bit of the pain he’d caused if he held you now, if he showed you that he wouldn’t leave you alone with your pain this time.

“i’m so sorry”, he whispered against you, and again, “i’m so sorry.”

“just make it okay again”, you begged him, because that was what you wanted more than anything else. you wanted your little family to be a family again, mommy, daddy and the little gem. you’d do anything if only you could get that again.

“i’ll make it okay if you let me. promise, i won’t leave you again if you don’t want me to.”

“don’t ever leave again”, sobbing against his suit but he didn’t mind, he just wanted to be with you more than anything else. wanted to be with his family just as much as his family wanted him there.

“i won’t, not if i don’t have to”, holding you tightly as he tried to fight his own tears, but it was impossible when you were shaking in his arms because you were so scared he was going to break his promise. he couldn’t help crying.

“i love you”, he told you, sobs shaking his big body as much as your smaller one, “i love you and i never stopped, i love you and i’m sorry, i love you.”

“kiss me”, begging again, looking up at him with your tear-filled eyes, scared he wasn’t going to do it. scared it had all been empty words.

but he did, placed his lips on yours in a salty but soft kiss, holding you like his life depended on it. and in a way, it did. in a way, you were his life, you and his daughter, his little family. you were his everything.

and in that moment the clock hit 11:11, the time for wishes, the time you’d chosen to get married because marrying each other was your wishes come true, and now, with him there, your wishes were coming true again, and the silly little alarm he still had on his phone from your first anniversary, a much less loving one, was ringing, showing you that he’d never given up on you even after so many months.

and then you broke the kiss, just a few seconds after, both to turn off the alarm and because you had to laugh, but it was okay. it was how it was supposed to be.

“where’s the gem?”, he asked when you’d both stopped laughing, and you told him she was in kindergarten, something he could technically have guessed himself because you’d kept him up to date with her kindergarten and your job developments, but in this moment his brain didn’t exactly work well.

“can we pick her up together?”, the very first time he’d asked to do something together with the two of you, at least after those first weeks where he’d still been trying.

“please”, and you left hand in hand, as it was supposed to be.

and everything was how it was supposed to be when your daughter spotted mingi waiting for her at the door, ignoring you in favour of the man she hadn’t seen in ages because he’d had to work far, far away, the excuse you’d made up because you couldn’t have told her that you’d kicked daddy out because he didn’t care enough.

“daddy!”, screaming happily as she ran into his arms with her short little stubby legs, and he picked her up the way you’d longed for him to hold her for months.

“daddy is back home”, he told her, kissing her little face and making her giggle. you could tell he was hesitant, he was scared to pick her up, but he did it anyway, looking at you to see if he was doing it right or if you needed to correct the way he was holding her or anything. but you didn’t.

“and daddy is going to stay, right? no work far, far away?”, you asked your husband, trying to mask the fear in your voice and your expression with an expectant tone, but he could tell. of course he could tell.

“daddy is going to stay”, he promised, like he’d promised you so many times before, even though he’d never been able to keep it.

this time, though, he stayed.

[calumance]

I know it's kinda cliche lol but maybe a blurb about calum being on tour on Aiden's birthday and baby babyboy is super sad and disappointed:( because not only does his dad cant be with him but also it's the same year that baby logan was born and we all know how aiden struggled with sharing the center of attention:( end it however you'd like♡

Seeing Aiden so heart broke would be like getting stabbed directly in the heart. 💔💔💔 Dad!Calum is always there to save the day though. 🥰🥰🥰

        Sleepless nights were common when Calum was on tour, it’s been that way since you first started living together. This night was different though, the sleeplessness was because of the fact that it was Aiden’s seventh birthday and he’s been talking about how much he’s been dreading it. A seven year old boy was dreading the fact that it was his birthday. All because his dad couldn’t be there to celebrate it with him. “Daddy and all my uncles won’t be here to celebrate my birthday with me, what’s the point of having a party, mommy?” Aiden had said before heading to bed and after you asked him if he was excited for his birthday party.

        The ringing of your phone caused you to jump out of your thoughts. Calum’s name in big bold letters on your phone. You had asked him hours ago to give you a call when he got the chance, it had gotten to the point that you were beginning to think that he wasn’t going to call you. “Hey, honey.” You answered after putting the phone on speaker and setting it back on the table.

        “Hey, gorgeous. Isn’t it really late there, why aren’t you asleep?” He was out of breath, he must have just gotten off the stage from his performance. Time zones were the absolute worst.

        As he spoke, you crossed your arms on the table and scooted the chair back so you were able to rest your chin on your arms. “Yeah, it’s pretty late, or early if you want to look at it that way.” You closed your eyes and sighed, “I can’t sleep, I don’t know what to do, Calum. Aiden told me there’s no point in throwing him a birthday party since you and the guys won’t be here. Not only that, but for the past week he’s been telling me that he’s dreading his birthday. He’s six and he’s using the word ‘dreading.’ Cal,” you sighed and lifted one hand to place it on your face, “He’s breaking my heart.”

        Calum sighed on the other end of the phone. “I don’t know what to do either, I want to be there, but I can’t. What if I stayed up all night and FaceTimed him for the party?” By the tone in his voice, even he knew that it wasn’t the same thing, and it wasn’t going to make Aiden feel better.

        You sat back in your chair, leaving your phone on the table. As you sat back, you lifted one foot onto the chair and then rested your elbow on your knee. You pressed your fingers to your lips as you tried to think of every possible way to make Aiden feel good about his birthday, but there was nothing. “I don’t know, Calum, maybe just call him in the morning and talk to him. Maybe if you explain to him why you can’t be here he’ll feel better.” It wasn’t, but at least it was something.

        “I can do that. Will you do something for me?” You hummed in response to his question. “Will you try and get some sleep? I know you don’t sleep well when I’m gone, but can you at least try?” You agreed with him to try, even though you knew it was pointless to try, sleep was not going to happen tonight. “I love you, I’ll call a little later.” He sighed before he hung up the phone and you sat in silence. The only sound being the one of your heart breaking for the seven year old sleeping down the hall.

        Just as you predicted, sleep didn’t happen. What did happen was you were somehow able to drink an entire pot of coffee by yourself. As you finished off the last sip of coffee, you glanced at the time. Calum was going to be calling in a little bit and it was much later than the time Aiden usually wakes up. The coffee mug clanked as you set it in the sink and headed down the hall towards Aiden and Logan’s bedroom. The door creaked as you opened it enough to peek inside. Your heart shattered into a million pieces when you found Aiden sitting on the end of his bed, a picture of Calum pressed between his little fingers.

        Aiden hadn’t seemed to hear the door creak, so you backed up and took a breath, composing yourself before you knocked on the door and opened it all the way. “Good morning, baby, happy birthday.” Aiden looked up at you and then back down at the picture of Calum. “What are you doing with the picture of daddy?” You asked as you sat next to him on his bed.

        Aiden furrowed his brows and continued to stare at the photo. “Why doesn’t daddy like me anymore?” The question was like a dagger to the heart. Enough pain rang through your chest that you lifted your hand to your chest and gulped.

        You cleared the lump out of your throat and twisted your fingers around the necklace pendant sitting on your chest. “What are you talking about, baby? Of course daddy likes you, in fact, he loves you.” The pounding in your chest made your chest heave, how could Aiden ever think that Calum didn’t love him?

        Aiden shook his head and looked up at you. His eyes were red and there was a steady stream of tears rolling down his cheeks, “If he loves me then why isn’t he here?” Aiden dropped his eyes to the crib across the room. “Even when he is here, all he cares about is Logan.” Aiden dropped his head back to the picture of Calum in his hands and then lifted his arm to wipe under his nose.

        You placed your hand back on your chest and looked over at the ten month old who was peacefully sleeping in his crib. You didn’t even know what to say back to Aiden. Babies require so much more care than seven year old’s do, it wasn’t until now that you realized that both you and Calum had been paying a lot more attention to Logan than Aiden. The dagger in your heart twisted and you felt like breaking down and crying. Before you could let a single tear fall, you phone started ringing. When you saw Calum’s name on your screen, you cleared your throat and answered it at the same time as you said, “I think this call if for you, Aiden.”

        Aiden looked up and set the picture to the side as he took the phone from your hands. Seeing Calum on the other side of the phone, Aiden smiled and gave a sheepish wave. “Buddy, why are you crying? It’s your birthday!” Calum said and you peered over Aiden’s shoulder to look at your husband.

        Calum was sitting at the hotel room desk, most of the lights were off except for the one on the table in front of him. The dark circles under his eyes made it obvious that he specifically stayed up to call and talk to Aiden. He was wearing a black t-shirt and his hair was messy, as if he took a shower and left it to dry without combing through it. You missed him more than you could ever articulate, “You’re not here with me.” Aiden said, sniffling, but not looking away from the phone.

        You ran your fingers through Aiden’s hair in effort to comfort him. Calum leaned closer to the phone and raised an eyebrow. “Of course I’m there with you, we’re together right now, aren’t we?”

        Aiden shook his head and lowered his eyes, “This is different. You’re not here to help my blow out my candles and give me a hug like you usually do.” Aiden lifted his eyes back to the phone and the tears started to flow down his cheeks again.

        “Hm, I think I have a solution for that.” Aiden furrowed his eyebrows and so did you. Calum hadn’t mentioned anything about a solution, at least not one you thought would make Aiden feel better. “If it’s okay with mommy, I thought we could celebrate your birthday next week. You, your brother, and mommy will come here and your uncles and I will throw you the best birthday you’ve ever had.” Calum glanced up to make eye contact with you and your smiled, a signed Calum took as an agreement to fly out and see him.

        Aiden turned to you and pleaded with you to go see Calum. You nodded furiously and Aiden turned back to the phone. “Mommy said it was okay! I can’t wait to see you!” Aiden kissed the phone and Calum chuckled. “I can’t wait to tell my friends about this tonight!” Aiden said as he dropped the phone and hopped off the bed running into the hallway and towards the living room.

        You picked up the phone and shook your head at Calum, “I don’t know how you do it, but you always managed to make everything better. I’m so glad I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” Calum winked at you and then blew a kiss at the phone. “Text me the details after you get some sleep. I love you.” Calum nodded and returned the sentiment before ending the call. You heart fluttered as you dropped your phone to your lap. Aiden might be excited to see Calum, but deep inside, there was no comparison to how excited you were to see him.

************

Tag list: @mantlereid @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @wheniminouterspace @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream @babyoria @treatallwithkindness

[nightmaretyrantvantas]

Sleepless nights and a shift in character developments- A homestuck au strider story

I wrote this during a bout of insomnia(partially caused by excitement) and I couldnt stop thinking about it

@turing-tested This comes from one of the MANY things I babbled about this character, so if you see this you might recognize it. 

Im going to post more about this character soon its just alot to compile for one post-at least 5 years worth or development and passion so bear with me please

Note before reading : This is in the best put terms, an au epilogue i made before homestuck even finished, and the only thing accurate to any current epilogues is the canon kids ages. 

This is long and gets a bit dark and emotional and angsty but I promise it has a happier ending. It also glosses over some heavier themes like mentions and brief discussions of nonspecified eating disorders, so if that makes you uncomfortable you can skip this

enjoy

whrrz….whrzz…..whrrzz….

The damn clock ticking was endless. The figure tossed and turned restlessly on the bed, kicking and pulling up the cotton sheets as they ceiling fan lazily spun uncaringly from above. After another bout of struggling for comfort there was a glance at the nearby digital clock

2:45 a.m

“Goddammit……” 

With a angry groan the girl fell heavily onto her back and dragged her hands down her face, staring up at the ceiling with exhaustion. This just kept happened to her, ever since she and all her friends and people she gave any shits about crashed here in a new world. No matter what she did she could never get a full nights sleep, plagued by either ruthless insomnia or vicious night terrors. Pick your poison a night. It didnt matter what the 19 year old did really, nothing eased it. And so she stared at the bedroom ceiling and the spinning fan hopelessly before she finally dragged herself up into a sitting position, head hung low. Even with moonlight streaming in blue light things felt too dark. So one tired Dian Strider fumbled her hand around the room and turned on tv on the other side of the room, wincing and squinting as its bright changing light filled her room. She glanced back at the clock and grimaced at the two minutes that had passed. Then she shut her eyes and listened, muting the tv. The apartment was quiet….too quiet…

Her eyes snapped back open, a new look of anxiety crossing her face. 

“ Hes not back yet….its Wednesday…hes late…” She shook her head and looked at the wall by her bed, at the pinned up pages of scribbles hanging there contently

WEDNESDAY : RETURNS BY 1 AM

Now she as on her feet and pacing around on fragile boned legs, absently gnawing on the scarred knuckle of her index finger. Her thoughts drifted and tumbled through her sleep deprived brain worriedly, though she wouldnt admit it aloud just yet.

Dirk wasnt home yet. He shouldve been home by now. But hes not….is he?

She stopped and looked at her bedroom door, unlocked and fully capable of opening and revealing the knowledge she wanted to know, all outside her little space.

But could she handle opening it?

With a new look of tired firmness she padded barefoot across the carpet and opened her door as silently as she could. If he WAS back she didnt want to wake him up. And there it is illuminated by the light in her room and the gently dim moonlight from the staircase and hallway window : Dirk’s bedroom door, firmly closed. She took a few light steps and Dia was now in front of it, hand grazing the doorknob as doubts made her pause. Sure, she had been living with him for almost 5 months now, and sure he had been more than welcoming and generous in his…weird stoic and socially avoident tendencies and eccentricities. Dia couldn look passed those, who was a shattered and violently anti social and mistrusting girl to judge the man who gave her and her little brother a roof to sleep under and a home to call their own when he had absolutely no obligation to? The answer was she wasnt anyone to judge him.

Not after he let her take on his last name to ease some of the trauma.

But were they really close enough to give her the right to just….turn the knob and open his door as if she was really family?

‘ Yes. we…we are? God i dont really know…But Hal gave me an ok to do so if I needed to talk or got too anxious…he said Dirk doesnt mind me leaning on him a little…so…this should be fine…to just peek in and see if hes in there…even if hes not asleep…I can just make some excuse about…fuck…anything…’ With a metaphorical slap to the face and a small huff of “ Just do it already dia stop being a pansy its just Dirk” she tightened her grip with more false confidence and turned it, slowly pushing it open just enough to poke her head in…

Just to find it empty. 

She blinked and her shoulders slumped in disappointment. He wasnt there, which mean he just…probably wasnt home yet. 

So she re shut the door without venturing further and walked over to the stairs that led down to the first floor and front of the apartment and ended up slumped across one of the sturdy steps, glaring at the wall upset and exhausted….so exhausted that her eyes fell without her realizing…letting her drift into an uneasy sleep….

And fell straight into a unrelenting nightmare.

She was forced out of it by the sound of something slamming downstairs  followed by a thump she didnt register. Because she was sitting straight up shaking violently and tearing up, fingers digging painfully into her arms as she hugged herself, breathing too fast. She looked around like a cornered animal until she was able to calm down a little, her surroundings settling back into her mind. But that slam…

Dia was on her feet gasping for breath a little as she stumbled down the rest of the stairs and out into the living room, tripping on her own two feet in her panic. She felt so small and alone and alone was the one thing she didnt want to be for a little while–

And all the spinning in her head stopped when she saw him.

He was sprawled out not all that gracefully on the beat up grey couch, one of his arms hanging off as his legs dangled over the arm. His blonde hair, much lighter than hers was a damp mess of spikes from being outside in the misty rain of before dawn that plastered against his forehead and into his uncovered, shut eyes. On his hand against his chest were his sharp shades, a dim and fading red glow slowly going out on them, a clear indicating Hal was asleep. She watched his chest rise and fall rhythmically and deeply, indicating he was already fast asleep. She figured it was from the past couple all nighters he’d pulled, between work his own projects and his nightly outings. Dia watched him sleep for a few moments then quietly walked over to his side, noting the familiar bags of insomnia under his eyes even in the dim lighting Silently she sighed and walked over to another chair in the room and grabbed a two blankets off it, a soft knitted one Dave left here from someone she was had met two times now named Rose and a thicker fabric quilt thing Dirk’s had since before she arrived, mentioned by Hal to have been a apartment warming present from friends named Jane and Roxy. She carried them over to him and with a wobbly stance and some struggling to not wake him or Hal up draped the quilt over his body, making sure it wasnt awkwardly on him. 

Then Dia wrapped the knitted blanket around herself and plopped down on the floor next to his side, facing him and watched over him for awhile. 

It wasnt anything special or life changing to her at first. She just…her brain was in a dark place and right now, The man before her was a very real and very present and constant reminder of the good in her situation. She was out of that hellscape, she was free.

She was safe and in a better place. Next to him the these early hours of the morning on the living room floor nothing bad from her past could hurt her or reach her. And that was all she needed.

So Dia made herself more comfortable and leaned on the couch in the space next to his chest and side and leaned her head against the quilt covered space until it barely, just barely pressed up against said bodily area as her body curled and folded into a comfortable spot doing so and her tired clementine eyes drowsily watched the movement of his breathing and the distant tick of a far off clock until she didnt even notice herself falling fast asleep at his side, nightmareless for the first time in months.

‘ Dirk…dirk wake up already.’

‘Dirk I know you can still hear me, wake up’

It was irritatingly bright with the morning sun when Dirk finally pried his eyes open, squinting up in pain at the ceiling. God was he fucking regretting passing out on the couch right now. So he quietly unfolded his only small salvation from the light and slid the shades over his orange eyes, blinking the exhaustion from them after with a yawn.

‘ nngh….Hal buddy you on already?’ He got an immediate, if not amused answer that made him practically imagine the body motion and expression that shouldve accompanied it. He couldnt help but smile a little and crack his neck in an attempt to ease the stiffness….god he needed a new damn couch.

‘ Dirk…dirk look down.’ He quirked an eyebrow but didnt even get a chance to ask 

Because he moved his hanging arm and brushed against another solid mass that made him look down anyway.

He didnt dare move for a few moments when he saw Dia curled up beside him on the floor, his hand having brushed against the slim girl’s too bony arm. But didnt wake up, only shifted slightly as her head burrowed into his side a bit, looking more relaxed than he’d ever really seen her. 

‘ When did she…?’

‘ I am not sure. she was already there asleep when I first started up this morning. I can only assume shes been there since we got home.’ He dragged a hand through his hair as he looked over her and carefully moved his arm so he didnt wake her up.

Dirk decided not to sit up or move from the couch yet either. 

‘ She almost looks happy…’

“ Yeah… I know. Too bad she doesnt always look like this…’ There was a silence between them and Dirk sighed through his nose. 

‘…im going to make breakfast.’ Was the only thing Dirk finally said before carefully getting up and heading to the kitchen. ‘ Oh? Thats a first for you…you normally skip breakfast.’ Dirk didnt respond right away, scavenging the simple, cluttered kitchen for anything to cook and scrunching his nose a little when he wasnt really finding anything.

‘ Dirk you KNOW there hasnt been any grocery restocking since you started your latest project…’ He groaned and pressed his forehead against the freezer door and stayed quiet for another moment, gears in his head turning and things lining up in his head. Hal didnt try prodding him too much for an answer. He knew the human too well by now, Dirk was working something out in his head. And on top of that he had barely been awake maybe twenty minutes after a total of maybe four or five hours of sleep, doing three all nighters before that. So Hal wasnt quick to call Dirk all to responsive lately. 

Maybe he should contact Jane after all to get him into a healthier…well…anything.

“ ….I really didnt want to go outside this early…but if the kid will be asleep for awhile…hmm…” 

‘ Hmm what?’ The blonde shook his head a little and rubbing an eye with the palm of his hand as if forcing the drowsiness away. 

“ Hey Hal….mind messaging Dave for me and asking when he’s planning to come back home from Karkat’s this week?” ‘…alright Dirk I am, anything else?’ Hal asked, a bit sympathetic at the exhaustion in his voice. He knew Dirk didnt like to bother Dave with too much, especially when the younger strider stayed with them specifically to make sure Dirk took care of himself. He wanted him to live his own damn life without worrying about him, and so didnt ask him when he was coming back or how long he’d stay.

“���yeah. Ask him if its today and if he could possibly grab some groceries on his way home…” There was a silence but Hal told him he would and Dirk’s shoulders slumped when they got the reply that Dave would show up in about a half hour, and asking for a general list or if he should just wing it. 

Dirk said to just wing it. He wasnt picky right now.

Dia hadnt woken up by the time Dirk pulled on a decently cleaner shirt and his shoes, though she had shifted somewhat. He was a little relieved, she’d been sleeping worse than him recently and any rest was good rest. Yeah…it was was all he concluded as he slipped outside into the bright sunlight and sat on the stoop step that led into the apartment, absently gazing over the city lost in thought. 

“ Yo Dirk.” He glanced down to see Dave coming up the steps in casual clothing, face mostly neutral as he carried up two big bags of food. Dirk saw the slightly furrowed brows and the way his mouth tugged down in concern and heaved a sigh, standing and walking down to take one of the bags.

“ Gotta be quiet when you go in, the kid’s fast asleep in the living room and I kinda want her to stay that way. Where’s Derik?” Dave shrugged as he followed him up.

“ He was video calling Jay when Hal pestered me, so I left him be and came alone.” He got a nod as they walked in, Dave raising an eyebrow seeing Dia on the floor but not voicing the question. 

Dirk probably didnt move her so she’d sleep longer. He knew she had issues with being touched.

Though when they entered the kitchen his eyebrows furrowed again.

“ Dirk when was the last time you cleaned the damn apartment? You’ve got shit lying everywhere again it wasnt like this when I was here last.” The older man shrugged as he shoved junky clutter out of the way and replaced it with the bag of food, not exactly wanting to answer. The knight sighed and resisted any urges to smack the other person he considered family. Because goddamn was it hard to resist when he was falling back into bad habits and going back on months of progress being made.

“ You know what? Dont worry about it Dirk. I’ll help you pick up later or something since I’m here. Lets just get all the food put away and make something to eat, because damn am I starved and Im sure she will be too once she actually wakes up.” Dirk mumbled an agreement and started putting things away and setting stuff up to cook…something, anything. 

“ So…what is with the sudden desire to make breakfast? Hal and I usually have to force you not to skip it.” Dave wasnt really expecting an answer, To be honest neither was Hal at that point. Dirk was clearly in a more antisocial mood and that was fine really, but the silence was making the shorter blonde…twitchy. Maybe he just wasnt used to it anymore, when he considered half the time he stayed with Karkat further out of the city in a house that was distinctly more…energetic with two teenagers running around living with them. He had thought having Dia here might break him out of that but she could be just as bad as he was honestly, a sometimes too perfect match in their isolation habits.

He was thinking about it so much he almost missed Dirk’s reply, turning towards him blinking. 

“ Wait wha–” “ I said I’m not doing it for me…im making food for Dia.” There was a moment of a much more fragile silence and dirk pulled off Hal and set him on the counter, gripping it with both hands as he stared tiredly at the wall and cabinets in front of him, his eyes a bit distant as if he was seeing something else entirely Dave couldnt. He sighed heavily and continued with a low tone that sounded like he was trying to stay neutral, unemotional about it.

“ She doesnt eat enough. Coming from me already is a big deal but, I…Im almost positive she has some sort of eating disorder Dave. One she just wont tell me about. But I see the signs of it all over her. The underweight, the fragility of her whole body, the fatigue, the way she tries to avoid eating as much as possible, the way she hides herself away after meals…but I cant push her either because well fuck. What place do I have to really say anything? I’m not blood related, I’ve only known her about 5 months and ive barely tried to get to know her that much or get close to her but she’s grown on me a little and im worried one of these days her insomnia and her lack of eating are going to do her off right under my nose and there’ll be no one to blame but myself for not looking out for her enough. Like fuck,” His nails scrapped along the counter as his fingers curled in frustration. “ Im a goddamn wreck half the time and she’s almost worse than me and I just…I dont even know. The kid deserves better than that? She probably deserves alot better than staying up at night waiting and worrying when I’m going to get home and falling asleep on the goddamn floor and–maybe…maybe I should’ve had Roxy or Jane take her instead. Or even Jake. Somewhere where’d she’d-she’d get help for her issues, not a place to let them fester.” The air was heavy as he finished, his shoulders slumped in defeat and his head hung as if it had become too much to stay up on its own, eyes screwed close in a frustrated kind of pain. Dave was a little speechless, he knew Dirk felt a little responsible for Dia and part of that mightve been from himself but…He didnt know.

He shouldve known though. 

“ Dirk…Jesus Dirk why didnt you mention any of this sooner? If you’ve been so worried you could just tell me and I’d help you.” He moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder, pushing up his shades and leaning over to try to look the older man in the eyes. 

“ Dirk cmon dont shut me out now after that damn word vomit of you actually opening up. You are not shutting down on me, hell no. You opened your own floodgates and we’re going to swim through what the fuck you released together and work this out because clearly help is needed right now. If it wasnt you wouldnt have asked me to come back out of nowhere, and we wouldnt be having an emotional brotherly moment in the middle of your shitty kitchen at nine in the goddamn morning with the kid you’re clearly worried about dead asleep on your living room floor. So, lets talk ok?” With another tired sigh Dirk nodded as they kept cooking, neither noticing the thin figure slip away upstairs to shower.

After Dave left things were awkward. The two sat at Dirk’s kinda crappy dining table with a non microwaved meal in front of them both poking at it in silence. By the time they both decided they were done the house apartment felt delicate and tense. But regardless Dia holed up in her room for the rest of the evening to prepare for another fitful night and around ten Dirk pulled on his shoes and headed out. 

Dia checked the clocked a couple hours later, noting tiredly that it was only ten past midnight. So she simply rolled over to face the wall and shut her eyes, trying to shut off her brain. It almost worked too…

Click.

Her eyes snapped open and she lifted her head to look towards the door briefly confused, almost assuming she was hearing things. She glanced at the clock again. 12:13 am. She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up.

“ No way…I heard him leave at ten…and he usually doesnt come back until at least two on thursday…” She listened for a moment to make sure, and sure enough there was the sound of shuffling downstairs, slowly coming up the stairs. When she heard Dirk’s bedroom door open she got up and shuffled over to her own peeking out of her door to see his back. Before she could stop herself she made a noise to announce her presence and Dirk paused, looking back at her. There was a moment where they both stared at each other as she briefly panicked at the fact she started this conversation.

“ y..you’re back pretty early tonight…” She almost visibly cringed at herself as he gave a small shrug.

“ Didnt feel like being out for long tonight…besides, keeps some anxieties down if im not gone too late.” She stood up straighter and looked up at him stunned. He…he came home early…so she wouldnt worry? Her mind flashed to the morning before and something warm filled her chest. She nodded and murmured that she appreciated it and swore she saw a smile on his face before he continued into his room.

“ Hey um…” She saw him pause again and she took a nervous breath. She wasnt used to this, but…

“ I um…im not that picky when it comes to food…but I dont mind spicy foods, as long as its not deathly spicy. I’m also willing to try most things put out for me to eat at least once…so I’ll at least try to eat most meals…” She glanced back up to see him nod, a small smile now clear on his face.

“ Alright kiddo, I’ll keep that in mind. Try to go to bed before sunrise.” She nodded back and slipped back into her room, somehow feeling a little lighter.

The next couple weeks after that were different for them both. At first it was hard to describe, but things were less stiff so to say. They both came out of theyre rooms more for meals together and…just talked. The talks were awkward as hell at first, but the more they did the more she looked forward to meal time, and the less she dreaded eating. Even though she struggled to open up to the older man she could still find things to talk about. At some point she started cooking again, which she hadn’t done since she took care of her little brother, over five months ago. Dia started when she noticed Dirk skipping meals, lost in his work.So…she started making things and leaving them for him with a reminder to eat. And once his portion was gone she ended up eating what was left for herself, the portion being enough to not make her feel too guilty most nights. 

But things were on a better track, Hal pointed out as much one night as Dirk slipped back into the apartment as the clock read 1:00 am. Dirk raised an eyebrow and got a bit of a half smile. “ oh yeah? You really think so huh?” 

‘ Yes I do actually. You havent noticed? She’s opening up to us both more than she has in months.’ Dirk nodded with a hum as he made his way to the stairs, listening to hear if Dia was moving about and noticed it was quiet. Maybe for once she managed to fall asleep. 

‘ You know, you two are alot alike, at least with your issues and and some of your traumas.’ Dirk paused halfway up the stairs and tilted his head as he thought about it, not exactly responding. But Hal continued on.

‘ I think at this point, the best course of action for you both would be for you two to try having a deeper conversation. It would benefit you both greatly to try discussing and sympathizing over your similar issues. At the very least it would help you both open up more, something we both know is very needed in this apartment.’ He…couldnt really argue with that one. 

“ Ya know what? fuck it why not. I’m not going to push her too much but…I’ll give it a shot.” 

And he did. When he saw her at breakfast he motioned for her to listen and took a deep breath through his nose, preparing for the worst. He vividly remembered how she could lash out when she felt cornered or afraid, and that was the last thing he wanted.

So he tried as gently as he could, following some of Hal’s advice and the advice of Rose who he’d talked about this with much earlier in the morning for ideas to approach the subject…delicately. He even vaguely put some of his smaller issues on the table first, made them vulnerable which made Hal rather proud of him for. 

“ Look Dia…I get it ok? I get the not wanting to talk to anyone about it and the need to be strong and unbreakable. But I also know how that can fuck you up even more. It has for me for years…and…I’ve lost trust with close friends because of it. I did things I still dont forgive myself for trying to bottle it up.” She listened and nodded. Then Dia looked down and touched one of her scarred knuckles and took a deep breath. Then she looked up with an expression he hadnt seen before, it was tired and sad and vulnerable. Suddenly she looked like her age, a broken and exhausted 19 year old who’d been suffering on her own for too long, and he watched her shoulders droop as she spoke as if a weight was starting to lift off them.

“ I…I-I have alot wrong with me Dirk…maybe too much to be fixed…so much you may not want to bother with me if you knew everything…I’m…Im beyond screwed up and I cant even eat anymore without trying to loss the nonexistent weight it brings…I…I’ve done too much I dont deserve this I dont…” She trailed off and Dirk reached out and hesitantly, understandingly placed his hand on her wrist, making her look him in the eyes.

“ Why dont we start by just being screwed up together kid? You arent alone in it anymore…and about the eating, we can work on that first and get you started on recovery however you need it. But lets start small and see how we survive it.” She smiled a little and nodded, relaxing.

“ Yeah, ok.” 

A few nights later Dia was tossing and turning again after waking up from another nightmareThis time a light rain drummed on the roof from a small passing storm. She looked at the clock and glared at the two am glaring back at her before sitting up and pulling on her hoodie. Maybe…

She got up and walked over to her door and stepped out, looking at Dirk’s door and expecting him to be out. But what she saw instead was a soft light coming from under the door, signifying he was still home and awake. With a deep breath she walked over and raised her hand to knock, only to pause and stare at the wood. She started doubting her right to interrupt him when their last talk flashed to mind. He had opened up to her a little and she had done the same, they had shared a moment and she felt…closer to him. She didnt feel like a burden as much.

So with more confidence than she had she grabbed the handle and turned it, letting the light wash over her warmly as she gazed at his back, sitting at his desk across the room making something. She only hesitated for a moment before her body relaxed and she smiled a little, taking a step in.

“ H-hey Dirk…I cant sleep…do you mind if I hang in here for awhile?” 

She shut the door behind her when she saw him smile while declaring she can have his bed since he’ll be up awhile longer.

She fell into a peaceful sleep that night, feeling safe and at home.

End

Tadaaaa, this took a long while to write but I hope it was worth the wait! And I hope you guys like it!

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@phantommoonpeople @turing-tested

[diaryofanunmotivatedgirl]

I became an ELF in the Summer of June of 2012. I was so bored one day at home. That time, I started living away from my family because I need to study. I remember liking the song Mr. Simple so I searched the MV. Let's just say I was immediately hook. SFS was my first comeback as an ELF. 2013 was a tough year for SuJu as they didnt have a comeback because of their military and I started finding another fandom but when they came back with Mamacita. I got reeled back to the fandom hard. I was also having a hard time in school that time and I found comfort in their song 'Raining Spell for Love'. I remember sleepless nights crying to this song. I felt so much comfort just listening to this song that when I wake up the next day its as if my sadness didnt even exist.

Mamacita era ended and I wasn't hooked with Devil and Magic era because I wasnt able to stream as much and I started college then and I want to help my parents as much as possible so I studied well. I still streamed their songs but didnt have the connection before where I wouldnt even skip their songs. Black Suit, Lo Siento and One more time era came and it was still the same. Listened but not hooked.

Then I heard SS7 in Manila was going to happen. I didnt go. It didnt hype me much so I really didnt bother.

2 years into college I got depressed. And when I started internship, it became seriously worse. I didnt know what will I do after a graduate. I was so scared of the real world that it gave me panic attacks. My mother always worried about me because she didnt know what was happening to me as I was doing great with studies.

I talked to my mother that maybe I was just tired. Tired from life. So I talked to my mom if I could take a break after graduating before taking the board exam for a license of my pursued profession.

6 months later and I'm still the same person as I was before. I graduated but I'm depressed, still tired, not looking forward in life and I'm so lost with life. I felt like going no where with my life. I was already having suicidal thoughts and worry grew over my mother. I was always stuck in bed for days. I would only get up to eat or to go to the bathroom.

One day, I scrolled through Facebook and saw that Kyuhyun was discharged from the army and that they will be preparing for an album. For the first time in 5 years, I was excited for their comeback. I was happy somehow again. For the first time in months I was looking forward to something again. I got to stream their comeback live. I was so happy. I kept streaming their variety shows. I was so active this Super clap era.

Then SS8 in Manila was announced. I begged my mother to allow me to go. She eventually said yes. I had fun camping as I wait for ticket selling inside the mall. Met a lot of other Elfs. I was enjoying myself.

Concert Day came and I was so ecstatic. I tried to memorize their faces . I keep staring at them. I get to hear a lot of my favorite songs in SS8. There was a moment in #SS8inManila where Leeteuk said there are already preparing for an album and anticipate to see them again in SS9 in the Philippines. Beforehand, I told myself that this will be my first and last concert. Because since I am in my early 20s, I kind of wanted to have a goodbye to my childhood idols. But when Leeteuk said that, something in me ignited. I dont know what it was but I was sure I wanted to attend a Super Show again.

It was not until I came home after the concert that I started crying so hard. I looked at my pictures where I took a pic of my LS with the Sapphire Blue ocean. I remembered my dream back in 2012 that being part of the Sapphire Blue ocean will make me the happiest girl alive. I just then realized that I fulfilled the dream of my 12 year old self. If my old self was looking at me now, she will be so proud of me despite of all the things I did.

I then remembered my current dream The dream of becoming a doctor. The dream of helping others when they are in pain. Days before the concert I felt like that dream were so hard to achieve and is so far away that I dont deserve to even have it. Now, Super Junior made me realize that I'm worthy. I'm still worthy for my dreams.

I cried in front of my mother that day. I said that I was okay now. That she didnt need to worry about me anymore. My mother hugged me hard and she was smiling so widely. I cried hard again. I was finally happy.

Now I am preparing for my board exams, with my heads up high because I know Super Junior is my safe place and that they wont let me slip into the dark place again. That thought alone makes my heart swell with happiness.

Now going back, I thought of how was I coping with sadness then, it was not until the concert that I realized that Super Junior was the reason I didnt became sad. They helped me so much in ways I didnt even know. Now as I look into the future, I will walk in a flower path. I will be forever in debt to Super Junior. They saved me. And I do believe this song was God sent because every line here desribes how I am feeling now. I feel as if this song is just for me. They helped me again in finding my path. I found my happiness again. I will always be thankful to Super Junior and I will forever return the favor. Always an ELF, Forever an ELF.💙💙

Thank you for reading up to this point. I do hope you also find your happiness. I bless you in all of your endeavors and may you and your loved ones be rained with good things and blessings. 💙💙💙

[kaleidopewrites]

Troubled History

Summary: You’re finally given the chance to join the Avengers team again, after a few years of being on the bench. But, you’re a little uneasy with the new teammate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1502

Warnings: mentions of nightmares, really it

A/N: Thank you, @demondeantrash for requesting. It was a little complicated, but I hope I wrote it okay! I adjusted it a little, but I do hope you like it :)

Requests are open | Masterlist

You wake up screaming into the dark, tugging your arms so that they were no longer bound. It takes you a moment – no more than usual – to remind yourself that you were safe. That you were in your apartment, and they couldn’t get you.

Not anymore.

Every shadow reminded you of your nightmare. Every flicker of moonlight had you jumping, reaching for the gun you kept hidden under your pillow. When the walls began to close in around you and your bedroom got smaller, you decided to leave.

Leaving all the lights off, you walked from the room towards the living room. A clock in the corner told you it was a few hours past midnight. Perfect. Another sleepless night.

As you sit down onto the couch, flicking on the TV and turning the sound down, the flashing lights reflected off the calendar on one of the walls. A date in particular, today’s date to be exact, was highlighted.

Today, you would rejoin the Avengers.

You’d been signed to the Avengers after Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton. Director Fury believed your skill set would be better equipped with Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

Even back then, you were quiet and stoic-like. You’d had a horrible history before SHIELD. Nat was the only one who knew most of it, but not all. She was the only one to understand, even though you knew the barest things about her own history.

Neither of you minded, you were both pretty understanding.

But the Avengers were a great team to get along with. They were understanding and polite and generally well rounded. You had never been a part of a team before, but you would never hesitate to join theirs.

It was only a few years ago that you had to stop seeing them. It was a rouge mission, no one’s fault. You’d been caught in the crossfire, being forced to take a few years off for recovery. And while you were thankful for the time off, it gave the demons a chance to return.

You shake off the morning terrors with a shake of your head, looking up at the lights blinking in the elevator. You couldn’t believe you were returning. Years sitting on the bench before giving the all clear to return to work.

You were excited to see the old team again.

SHIELD had kept you out of the loop, knowing how tempted you already were to just ignore the doctors and join again. The first few months were hard. Sitting around, doing nothing; that was hard. You’d attempted hacking into SHIELD’s files, but Fury’s house call was enough to get you to stop.

The elevator dinged open, and you instantly recognised the few faces in the room. You walked inside, warming a smile to your face as Nat and Clint looked up.

“(Y/N)!” Nat shouted, jumping up from the couch to run towards you. You laugh as you wrap your arms around her, holding her tight in a hug.

“(Y/N), is that really you?” Clint asked, walking forwards at a slower pace.

“The one and only,” You grin, stepping back from Nat and giving the archer his own hug.

“How are you?” Nat starts, probably hiding a whole bunch of questions behind her teeth as she led you over to the couch. You answer her questions as best you can.

Your life had been pretty boring without the Avengers.

According to Nat, the same old had been for the team. The first few missions were hard to adjust to, considering you weren’t allowed on missions. Apparently, they were holding up just fine, but the team seriously missed you.

Within minutes, you were laughing with Nat and Clint and the whole team had joined the living room. They caught you up on other things, including their new teammate Wanda. She was polite, a little shy at first, but you found her powers incredibly fascinating.

“So, where’s Steve?” You ask after a while, noticing the star-spangled man was missing.

“He’s downstairs in the gym, training with Bucky. He’ll be up soon,” Tony said. You could hear the negative in his tone when he mentioned Bucky. Who was he? Clearly, the billionaire didn’t like him.

Almost as soon as a slight, uncomfortable silence filled the room, the door to the elevator opened and Steve walked out, eyes searching relentlessly until they landed on you.

Smiling, you jump up from the couch and run to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. He returns it before you both break apart.

“(Y/N), good to see you again,” He grins as you step back, nodding. You finally then notice the person standing behind Steve. You look to him, and freeze.

The Winter Soldier.

He gave you a small smile, clearly seeing the look of distress pulling onto your face as you stared at him. The room seem to fall into that uncomfortable silence that began before.

“Uh, hey,” He said, holding out a hand for you to shake. But you stepped back, away from him and bumped into Nat behind you. You didn’t even hear her walk up.

You thought you could escape them. You thought you’d been off their radar, that they’d given up looking for you. You thought you would never be able to see them again.

But here they stood, awakening the demons that lurked in the dark.

How could the Avenger’s do this? Add this man to their group. Did they not know what he was capable of? What a simple ten words could turn him into?

But that look of confusion when you backed away from him; did he not know who you were? How could he forget you?

“(Y/N)?” Someone asked, you weren’t sure who. All you knew, was that you were getting the hell out of there before he could hurt you.

For the second night in a row, you were woken up screaming in your room. Only, this time, it took you a lot longer for you to realise that you weren’t in your dorm, but in Stark Tower.

That same day, everyone demanded that you move in. While you only had time to move in the necessities, you still had a few days to move everything in. Thanks to Nat, you’d been moved on a separate floor to the Winter Soldier.

But it didn’t ease your conscious. And the nightmare was proof of that.

When the walls started closing in, you rose from the bed and took the elevator up to the living room. You didn’t bother turning on the lights before you sat down near the window, curling up in on yourself before staring at the city.

You planned to remain there until sun up before the elevator opened, streaming temporary light into the room. You turn, and are surprised to find the figure of the Winter Soldier walking into the room.

You watched as he crossed the room and was about to sit in the couch before stopping, eyes finding you staring in the darkness.

You would have left, run into a separate room to avoid him. But something stopped you from even moving. From even leaving the window.

The way he sunk down into the couch, how his muscles were tense, you somehow knew how he was feeling. You knew what he was going through. You weren’t that different.

So, you stayed where you were, curling up against the window and returning your gaze to the outside.

The more weeks that went by, the more you found that maybe the Winter Soldier wasn’t working for Hydra. Every few days, you were wracked with nightmares before going to the living room, where he would either be there, or be there soon.

But this particular night, the nightmare was worse. You couldn’t have run from your room fast enough, feeling like you couldn’t breathe before using the elevator to reach the main room.

Bucky was in the living room first, but you barely gave him a glance as you quickly make your way to your spot near the window. You curled up, trying to keep the tears in your eyes and to not make a sound.

You heard the couch creek and you followed Bucky’s footsteps until he sat down next to you near the window. You didn’t care at this point whether Bucky was working for Hydra or not. You needed comfort, you needed someone to hold you carefully.

So, you instantly fell into his arms, uncurling before curling again on his lap. If he was tense before, he was far more tense now, not expecting you to suddenly jump into his arms.

But it didn’t take him long to wrap his arms around you, moving so you were more comfortable against him. You didn’t want to cry, but you couldn’t help it.

You could hear Bucky’s soothing heartbeat and his fingers gently running through your hair and down your back.

And you knew, from then on, things will be a little different around the Tower.

Tagging: @bucky-in-paradise @lokiandbuckyaremine

[aahhlliiss-writes]

I’ll Come To You (Requested)

“Could you write something based on the song "half the world away" maybe where harry is too far away and y/n cannot stand to be in her hometown anymore?”

Adjusted this slightly, hope you still enjoy!

Let me know what you think, and if you have any requests for future oneshots, you can ask me HERE.

You sighed, shifting restlessly under your duvet a couple of times before rolling over to check the time on your phone. 2.34am. You’d been tossing and turning since you’d turned off your light at 11pm, desperately trying to fall asleep. You had a huge day the next day, and you needed to get some sleep. Without Harry next to you though, a good night’s sleep was hard to come by.

You two had been living together for six months now, and you’d gotten used to sharing your bed with another body. He was warm, he snored a little, and he often trapped you under his heavy limbs, but he was yours, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Something about his presence comforted you, and you always slept uninterrupted when he was there. 

He’d disappeared off to Jamaica to record his album exactly a month ago to the day, and while you spoke on the phone at least once a day and you were almost in constant communication via instant message, it just wasn’t the same as having him there. Being this far apart was hard on you both. When he had filming for Dunkirk it had been difficult, but you hadn’t been living together yet. Once he had returned, you had both decided that you wanted to move in together, and when the day rolled around for him to leave for the trip, it was the hardest goodbye you’d ever been through.

Quite simply, you missed him.

You had no idea what time it was in Jamaica, despite Harry’s attempts to teach you how to calculate the difference, but you just couldn’t wait to hear Harry’s voice any longer. It was the only thing that would get you to sleep, and so you gave in to yourself. You dialled his number, preferring to type it out even though you could just find his name in your contacts list. There was something so intimate about having memorised his number, and you loved reminding yourself of that fact.

The phone rang a couple of times, and then-

“Hey love.”

You let out an audible sigh as Harry’s familiar drawl filled your ears, slumping back against the pillows before answering.

“Hey you,” you murmured, breaking into a smile.

“Y’alright? It’s… what, gotta be 2am where you are little one. What’s got you awake at this time?”

“Just couldn’t sleep. Missed you.”

“Oh, babe. I miss you too. You in bed?”

“Yeah,” you answered, nodding even though Harry couldn’t see you.

“Comfy?”

“Yeah. Just a big Harry sized space next to me,” you murmured, your voice quivering a little despite your attempts to keep it steady.

“Oh sweetheart,” he answered, his words coming out a sort of tired sigh. The sadness in his voice only encouraged your tears, and before you knew it you had a steady flow streaming down your cheeks as you desperately tried to keep quiet.

“Don’t cry,” Harry soothed.

“M’n-not,” you whimpered, brushing your tears from your cheeks as best you could.

There was a moment of quiet, and then-

“I love you. T’the moon and back. You know that right?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you whispered back, your voice still a little shaky. “I love you too.”

“Just… snuggle up, put on one of my t-shirts, and close those beautiful eyes. Okay?”

“Okay. Love you,” you said again.

“Love you more, sweet girl,” he murmured, pausing a moment before the pair of you reluctantly hung up.

You hesitated a moment, shuffling to sit up, before dialling another number.

“Hello? Hey, Jeff, it’s me. Yeah… Listen, I wanna come there. Can you help?”

##

Five sleepless hours later you were in a taxi on the way to Heathrow airport to catch your flight to Jamaica. Jeff had sorted it all for you, your flight departing London at 10am and arriving in Jamaica at 2pm. It was a direct flight into Montego Bay, and you were eternally grateful that there was so stop over. You just had to get through those 9 hours of flying and you would be there.

Jeff had been more than willing to get you over to Jamaica as soon as possible, enthusiastic as the two of you discussed your travel plans. He reassured you over and over that Harry was just as desperate to see you as you were him, and he was relieved that you had made the suggestion. Harry was apparently in a bit of a creative slump, and Jeff was sure that a little visit from you would help get him going again.

The check in to your flight and depositing of your luggage went by in a sort of tired, excited haze, and before you knew it you were boarding your flight. You slipped into your seat, foot tapping anxiously as you waited impatiently for the flight to take off. You were never good at waiting, your mum always telling you time and time again that “good things take time”, and now especially you were as impatient as ever.

9 painfully slow hours later, you were landing. Caught up in the excitement and anxiety of the trip, you had forgotten that you were going to be seeing Jamaica for the first time. Harry talked about it like it was the most wonderful place in the whole world, and it began to dawn on you that you would get to experience it too, your eyes wide as you stared out the window at the tropical surroundings.

It didn’t take too long to get off the plane and collect your bags, and you realised that another joy of Jamaica was that it was so much less busy than the London life you were used to. People moved a little slower, and their expressions were a little kinder. Most importantly, no one knew who you were, and if they did, they didn’t care. Being with Harry for as long as you had been meant that you were recognised pretty much everywhere you went, so it was nice to be able to just get on with your airport activities without any interruption.

The drive to the house Harry was renting felt much longer than it actually was, and you tried to distract yourself by taking in your new surroundings. There was something about being in this new, slow, hot place that made you feel a little emotional. You didn’t know what it was, whether it was the way you were being treated, or the climate, or the idea that a life existed for you outside of the frantic one you lead.

The driver pulled up in front of a modern, white villa, and you let out a sigh as you took it in. You were here, you were going to see Harry. This was happening. A sudden wave of nerves hit you as you scrambled out of the car, sweaty palms shaking as they smoothed over your cotton dress. What if he didn’t want to see you? What this was a mistake? What if he didn’t want you hear.

Trying desperately to push your thoughts aside, you tugged your suitcase up to the front door, knocking a couple of times against the wood. You heard the mumble of voices, some familiar, and you chewed your lip anxiously as you waited.

“Harry, you should get it,” you heard Jeff call, his voice a little muffled on the other side of the heavy door. There was a pause, the sound of familiar footsteps, and then the door swung open. Harry’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open as he took you in, and then before you could say anything, he burst into tears. Heavy, ugly, heaving sobs, his hands moving to cover his face.

You abandoned your luggage, arms wrapping around him immediately as you cuddled him close. His hands left his face as his arms returned your embrace, lacing around your frame, his wet face nuzzling into your neck. Your hands rubbed over his back soothingly, lips pressing kisses to whatever part of him you could reach, just holding him as he cried.

You had only ever seen him break down like this once before, and it broke your heart to think that he had been holding this in, your own tears rolling down your cheeks as you cried with him. The pair of you stayed wrapped in your emotional embrace for a long while, before eventually breaking apart, your forehead finding his as your hands moved back and forth over your shoulders.

“S-sorry,” he stammered, his breaths coming out in wet hiccups as he tried to fill his lungs.

“Shhh love… No need to be sorry,” you murmured, your voice cracking a little, thick with emotion. You pressed your lips to his, the action of kissing soothing you both as you relaxed into the comfort of each other, enjoying the familiarity of the action.

“I’ve been struggling without you. I’m so glad you’re here,” he mumbled against your lips, smiling weakly.

“I’m glad to be here,” you murmured, pecking his lips before pulling away a little.

“Can I show you round? I wanna introduce you to everyone… You can meet Mitch!” he smiled, wiping his face before grabbing your hand and leading you into the airy villa.

You spent the afternoon meeting the band the recording team, and Harry made sure to show you around the whole of the house. You all ended up sprawled out in the living room, chatting about the album and getting to know everyone. It was lovely, and it was slow. You and Harry stayed glued to one another, and you couldn’t help but notice he was being much more clingy than usual, determined to be touching you at all times. You relished the attention, glad that he seemed to have missed you as much as you missed him.

“Right,” Harry yawned from behind you. “I think we’re off to bed,” he chuckled, kissing your temple as you yawned right after him, your eyes blinking sleepily. “Travel taken it out of you, huh babe?” he mused, a hand finding your back. You nodded a little, the pair of you saying goodnight to everyone before heading up to bed.

You changed into your pyjamas together, crawling into bed and cuddling close, your legs tangling together in an attempt to be as close as possible. Your faces were close as you gazed at one another, and it felt so good to be here with him, basking in his presence.

“Baby…” you whispered, hesitant to break the moment.

“Mm?” Harry hummed in response, ghosting a couple of kisses along your jaw.

“You gotta tell me if you’re feeling like how you’ve been feeling. I know I’m miles away and I can’t always just pack up and come here to see you, but it kills me think you’ve been feeling so low all by yourself,” you murmured, your hand cupping his cheek, a thumb moving over his cheekbone.

Harry hesitated before replying, brow furrowing ever so slightly. “I just didn’t want to worry you,” he answered lamely.

“I know love, I know. But… I’d much rather know, okay? I love you, and I wanna know where you’re at,” you explained, your voice soft and soothing. Harry nodded, sighing a little.

“M’sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you smiled, answering immediately. “C’mere.”

You rolled onto your back, opening an arm for him to scoot closer. He shuffled in against you, his head finding it’s place against your chest, an arm and a leg draped across you as he burrowed down. Your hand moved slowly over his back, lips pressing the occasional kiss to his head of curls.

You forgot sometimes that as hard as it was on you being apart from him, it was just as hard for him. He was so good at keeping it all bottled up and being strong for you, and you were glad that this time round he trusted you with his vulnerability. You felt him begin to go slack against you, sleeping beginning to take you as well, and you knew you were both about to have the best sleep either of you had had in months. All wrapped up safe in each other’s arms.

[thecrazydragonlady]

“Sleepless in Paris”- A ML Fanfiction

Synopsis: Volpina does not like the new turtle miraculous holder. He is so annoying! But surprisingly sweet and funny and kind and.... oh cripes.

Author’s Notes: I was anonymously asked for this when I opened my request box on Tumblr. So, for my first anon, here's your turtlefox fluff! Enjoy! 

Before Alya became a superhero, the only reason she didn’t sleep was because of the Ladyblog and even then, unlike her BFF Marinette, she knew when to call it quits for the evening and get some shut eye.

After becoming a superhero, it was an entirely different matter.

Alya lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, energy coursing through her veins. The thought of being a hero still filled her with such giddy excitement that she found it difficult to close her eyes; even then, she continued to dream of flying over the city’s skyline with Ladybug, Chat Noir, and… ugh…. Emerald Shield. She groaned at the thought. Emerald had joined at about the same time she had. He proved himself to be a pain in the butt. He was always shooting one-liners with Chat Noir, he… he…. Okay, so really the one-liners always got her but something about him just rubbed her the wrong way; they never could see eye-to-eye on a situation. Frankly, it was annoying.

She rolled in her bed, grabbing a pillow to scream into. That’s when a flying orange fuzz ball caught her attention. Trixx giggled, her purple slanted eyes closing as she did, her brightly colored tail swaying gently beneath her. Alya stuck her tongue out at her.

“There’s nothing funny here Trixx.”

“Depends on which side of the glass you’re standing on,” she countered. “I see all sorts of funny things over this.”

She sat up in her bed. Alya reached for her glasses and put them on, also turning on a lamp so that she could somewhat see.

“Fine, if it’s so funny to you, you wouldn’t mind helping me see the funny in it?” Trixx snickered. She flew around her head a couple of times.

“Isn’t it obvious? You like…!”

“Don’t you dare finish that statement,” she gasped, lunging for the kwami. It flew just out of reach. Alya hit the floor with a thump. She glared up at her as she started to giggle again but it was quickly interrupted by the sound of her door opening; Trixx shot down and hid under her hair as a heavy, balding man entered the room. He was dressed in sky blue pajamas her mother had given him at Christmas one year. His tiny eyes blinked at the sight of her on the floor and she merely smiled up at him.

“Alya? What in the world are you doing on the ground?”

“I tripped getting out of bed,” she lied. He entered, offering her a hand, which she took, and together, they got her on her feet. He quickly assessed her for any injuries but smiled when there were none.

“No damage done. Be careful from now on alright?”

“Oui Papa. Bonne nuit,” she assured him, stooping down a bit to give him a peck on the cheek. He smiled at the gestured, patted her head, and left, leaving her standing in the room semi-alone. Trixx flew out of hiding. Alya shot her a glare of Say something, I dare you. The orange kwami shrugged. Alya, maybe in a sense of non-sleepiness, an adrenaline spike, or mere spite for the little one causing her some nighttime grief, called on her transformation, turning her into the hero Volpina. “I’m going for a run and you, my fine orange friend, can’t say anything now uh?”  She opened her window. Scaling the side of the building, she made it to the roof where she proceeded to call up some illusions to help her make her way across the rooftops.

Volpina was pretty sure she could hear Trixx giggling even though she was in the charm around her neck.

*****

Being a superhero was thrilling. She loved scaling the Eiffel Tower from the outside and sitting on the massive beams that held it in place; it gave her such a feeling of freedom that it made her heart swell. She also liked the impervious status of the suit (as she’d learned from some previous akuma battles). Volpina kicked her legs over the side. She hummed a little song as she watched the cars of the city flow by like fireflies over a stream. It was a magical night to be out and about. A breeze pushed some hair into her face and she unceremoniously shook it out.

“I knew you were an animal but I didn’t expect you to act like one either.”

Her eyes narrowed. Turning quickly, she found a green covered person standing off to the side, leaning back against one of the cross beams, a smirk plastered on his face as he looked down at her.

She wanted to hiss.

… Did foxes hiss? If not, she was going to start a trend.

She turned away from him with an indignant humph, “What are you doing here Emerald?” There was silence for a few moments as he thought out his answer. This was going to be good. Maybe she would finally get a chance to put him in his place as his egotistical mouth had needed for the last three months or so.

Instead, he whispered, “Well, I happen to see an orange blur go by my window and of course with it being so late, I was concerned. I came to see if you were alright Fox.”

That got her. She turned again, surprised, and sure she was going to have whiplash by the end of the night. The usual defiance in his eyes for her wasn’t there tonight, they only sparkled with genuine concern that really, really, really threw her for a loop. To cover, she waved a hand, facing back over the horizon. “Well, I’m alright. Everything’s good. There’s no akuma. You’re good to go.” Apparently her assurances meant nothing to him. Instead of leaving footsteps like she expected, she heard them get closer and closer until they stopped and a set of legs appeared over the edge with her own. Emerald didn’t look at her. He too stared off over the horizon. A few minutes passed in relative silence; a breeze once more rustled the back of her hair but this time, she gently tucked it out of the way.

“I know,” he started slowly, “I know the two of us haven’t been getting along. There are times I can be annoying and probably taking after Chat Noir isn’t helping the situation is it?” She snickered, “No, not really.” He smiled.

“Then again, it doesn’t help that you take after Ladybug so much either.” She raised a shocked hand to her chest, almost insulted by the statement. He raised his own in surprise. “Hear me out. It’s fine to use LB as a model since we’re both so new at this but don’t you think we’re taking it to the extremes?” Her ears flattened. He was right. He sighed, running a hand over his neck, looking appropriately abashed. “I’m not going to lie: I kinda hooked on to Chat because I wanted to be just as popular as they are; I wanted to prove to Paris that I am a superhero just as much as the other too.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, “Me too. I spent so much time watching LB before that I wasn’t really… sure how to be a superhero. It was just habit afterwards.”

“Then let’s do something about it,” he smirked. Turning to face her more, he offered a hand, “Hi, I’m Emerald Shield, holder of the Turtle Miraculous and from this day forth, I am my own superhero. No more puns for me. I leave that to the cat.” She chuckled, taking his hand.

“I’m Volpina, holder of the Fox Miraculous. I’m my own hero too. I’ll leave the plans to LB and promise to not get in a fighting match with you again.”

“Really? That would be pawesome.” He laughed when her face twisted in disgust at the pun and he raised a hand, “Joking. I’m joking. But seriously, that was it on the puns.” She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t lie. You’re going to be shooting them off with Chat again at the first opportunity.”

“I swear to goodness I won’t.”

“Fine then how about a bet? Ten francs say otherwise after the next akuma.” He slapped her hand.

“Deal.” He stood then. “Well, as fun as this has been Fox, we both need to get some sleep. Think you’re alright to do that now?” He offered her a hand.

She took it, “Yeah. I’m feeling a lot better. Thanks for talking with me Emerald.” He nodded.

“Bonne nuit Volpina.”

“Bonne nuit Emerald Shield.” He gave her a salute with two fingers before pulling out his shield and using it almost like a hover board, he flew off into the night. She watched until he was out of sight.

When she was sure he was gone, she groaned and covered her face with both of her hands, groaning, “Trixx is never going to let me live this down. But… Gah! Fine! He is just too cute!” Her necklace quivered. She gave it a gentle slap before calling up her own method of getting home and disappearing out into the Paris night.

*****

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[apsbicepstraining]

Steven Caulker:’ I’ve sat here for years hating myself … This year was almost the end’

The QPR defender talks powerfully about his strives with mental illness, his addictions to gamble and drinking and why “he il be” thankful still to be alive

Steven Caulker has a fable to tell and, as hard as it is to hear, it is best plainly to listen. His stream of consciousness veers from scoring on his England debut less than five years ago and the excite at potential being realised to the frightening mental health issues a matter that have almost terminated it all in the period since. A actor who, from the outside, emerged consecrated with endowment and opportunity speaks of frantic nervousnes and self-loathing.

He entertained killing himself in his darkest instants with his path one of self-destruction. Endeavors at escapism rate him hundreds of thousands of pounds, compensations frittered away in casinoes. Then came the drinking is targeted at numbing the sting. The 25 -year-old notes himself recalling the times spent in custody watching CCTV footage of his misdemeanours, his lawyer at his slope, and not recognising the infamous being on the screen.

Football is still coming to terms with mental illness and Caulker, an international and a last-place linger remember at Queens Park Rangers of financially misguided dates as a Premier League club, has been an easy target. He is not was striving to make excuses or acquire sympathy. These are details he knows unpleasant to narrate. Ive sat here for years hating myself and never understand why it is I couldnt only be like everybody else, he says. This time was almost the end. I seemed for large spans there was no light-footed at the end of the passageway. And yet “hes not” residence a gambling since December, or stroked alcohol since early March. The healing process that can rehabilitate him to the top level is well under way, with this interview, one he attempted out, potentially another step on the road to recovery.

A little under a year ago Caulker had spoken to the Guardian about a life-changing week spent in Sierra Leone, of humbling yet invigorating benevolence work with ActionAid that had rendered him with a sense of view. He returned to be galvanised under Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink at Loftus Road and, having invested the previous season on loan at Southampton and Liverpool unfulfilling stints which fuelled his latent dangers was ready to give his all. Early season recitals against Leeds and Cardiff indicated confidence had been rebuilt, reward for a summer of incessant fitness work.

The trigger that they are able to mail him spiralling to rock bottom would be injury. He snapped his groin at Barnsley and played in pain for weeks, dreading a incantation back in rehabilitation, before succumbing to an accompanied hip objection. I owed it to QPR to try, he says, but I was naive thinking I could still perform with the weeping. He has not played since last-place October, with the period celebrated by personal ferment and, simply of late, resurgence. Talking publicly, he advocated, may place younger participates towards seeking assist if they find themselves trampling the same itinerary, or knowing the same gumption of desertion, in a merciless industry. The real hope is the activity, as gallant as it is, may eventually prove more cathartic for Caulker himself.

He recognises his football ability as a gift but likewise a swear. It took him from Sunday League at 15 into the Premier League four years later, to the 2012 Olympics with Great Britain and into Roy Hodgsons England side for a friendly in Sweden later that year. His talent has persuaded some of the most respected directors he is worth engaging. Yet, while he could still get away with it on the pitch, he lived in denial. It was more than six years into his busines before he admitted he necessitated assist. You always think you can rein it back in again and the money plies a inaccurate sense of security. But at Southampton I realised, mentally, I was extend. I wasnt playing, my job was going nowhere and I had to reach out to someone. Medical doctors there tried to help me but others were just telling me got to go on the tone and express myself.

There was no understanding as to what was happening in my leader. I know theyd returned me in to do a job and they werent there to be babysitters. Just like at QPR, I needed to justify the money they were paying me but I was in a state and, at some place, there has to be a duty of care. Football does not deal well with mental illness. Maybe its changing but the support mechanisms are so often not there. Ive spoken to so many actors who have been told to go to the Sporting Chance clinic and theyve accepted because they know, if they take time off, theyll “losing ones” neighbourhood in the team. Someone gradations in and does well, so youre departed. That dissuades parties from getting improve. You feel obliged to get on with things.

I would urge cubs to speak to the PFA, to speak to their director, and not be scared about being stopped if they are experiencing like I did. Be brave enough to say you need improve before its too late. The feeling Id ever involved something to take the edge off. Football was my flee as a kid but that changed when I was chucked into the first team as a adolescent and abruptly football came with distres. My behavior of to address it, even in the early stages of my career, was gambling. Im an addict. Im addicted to triumphing, which people say is a positive in football but certainly not when it extends to gambling. I was addicted to trying to beat the system, because you reassure yourself there is a plan to it and you can beat it. You can never get your brain around why you arent.

Steven Caulker, here celebrating after scoring on his England debut in 2012, says his football ability is a gift but too a affliction. Photograph: Michael Regan/ Getty Images

He has played 123 ages in the Premier League and for eight teams with the same, horribly familiar hertz of insecurity and self-destruction seeking him to each. There is always a catalyst to the nosedive. The sleepless darkness, sat up till 5am replaying every bad decision Ive ever became in my life, perturbing what will be next Tottenham moved me to Bristol City on loan at 18 and they set me in a flat in the city centre surrounded by nightclubs, two casinos opposite, the various kinds of coin Id never seen in my life, and no counseling whatsoever. I was plucked formerly by a member of staff and told Id been recognized in the casino at 3am but their posture was: What you do in your free time is your business. Just dont gave it affect your acts out on the pitch.

At Swansea a year later it was an injury which created it all to the surface, and Spurs communicated me to Boasting Chance to sort myself out while I was recovering from my knee but I wasnt ready. I hadnt experienced enough agony to form me want to stop. I was gambling heavily when I went back to Tottenham, biding up to crazy hours of the darknes in casinos. I guess never feeling good enough played a big part in that. I never appeared I was on the same degree as any of the first-teamers but a big win in the casino and fund in my back pocket might change that. Being stopped sounds me even more because football was what I had relied on to make me feel better. So then the gambling was every single day. The pain of forgetting all my fund, combined with the pity and guilt, ingest away at me. So Id drink myself into oblivion so I wouldnt have to feel anything. I was numb but I was out of control.

The chairman, Daniel Levy, eventually attempted him out on a post-season trip-up to the Bahamas. He just said: The room you act is phenomenal. You either sort yourself out or lead but I can assure you, if you leave, youll be going down , not up. I was young, stupid. I took it as a challenge, a chance to prove him wrong. I was so immature. So I went to Cardiff and, for six months, everything was amazing. I was chieftain, the manager, Malky Mackay, knew I had some issues but offered to be there for me. I experienced wanted, so there was no gambling , no heavy binges but the second largest he was sacked, all the beasts came back. Thats all it took. Even before we played the next game, Id persuasion myself good-for-nothing would be the same. Thats the kind of cataclysmic envisioning Ive had to address.

Steven Caulker, here playing for Tottenham against Arsenal in 2010, says he made a big mistake leaving Spurs. Photo: Tom Jenkins for the Guardian

I pointed up at QPR that summertime, 2014, trying to hold it together, but the prompt there came in the second largest recreation when we were pummelled 4-0 at Tottenham. That detecting coming off the tone at White Hart Lane, knowing marriage been humiliated and that Levy was sitting up in the stand thinking: I told you so There was no disclaiming it any more. Id made a big mistake leaving Spurs. I should have stayed and sorted myself out. I required the ground to swallow me up. It just pounded in my psyche: dejection, unhappines, bitternes. From that instant I was run, even if I never wanted to accept it, and there is nothing that intensified. Id go for days without sleeping. I dont known better I endured it. That time was an absolute nightmare.

It was a vicious circle. Wed lose at the weekend and the love would get at me, and Id be interrupting. I really wanted to help us get results but we werent good enough and Id walk away taking responsibility in my head for the whole crews flunks. I couldnt sleep, are concerned about what had happened. The only comfort I acquired was in booze. It would silence the tones of indecision and self-hate, temporarily regardless, but Id be too intoxicated to go into teach, and the blackouts Id have no remember of anything. It could be Monday and Id have no remembrance of what had happened since Saturday night. Id wake up, roll over and look at my phone, and thered be texts from people saying: Did you really do this last-place darknes? The director want to talk to you. It was petrifying because I didnt know what had happened.

There were occasions where reference is would wake up in a police cell. He pouts when asked how often he has been arrested, upset to admit the above figures, but the drunk and disorderly offences would flare up from London to Southampton to Merseyside. Sometimes Id be sat there with law enforcement agencies and my solicitor, watching the CCTV footage of what Id done, and I didnt recognise myself. I couldnt conceive the person or persons I was. Its so hard to accept I could be like that. In Liverpool I was waking up in the middle of the nighttime throwing up, people were blackmailing me, association proprietors and bouncers: Offer money or well sell this story on you. And I had no meaning what Id even done on those blackouts. I eventually told the sorority I couldnt function and needed to go back into rehab.

Things might have improved last-place season under Hasselbaink had the hip hurt, diagnosed as a week-long edition that became a complaint which induced five different diagnosis , not interpret him powerless is again. Id expensed the organization 8m, was one of the top earners and one of the few left from the Premier League, and beings had no explanation why I wasnt acting. Why I was absent. It ended up as my toughest year ever. I couldnt learn. My girlfriend lost her mother and was grieving while living with someone struggling with craving. My son, who lives with his mother in Somerset, is still in academy so Id go months without recognizing him. He had always been my safe place. There was no release.

QPR and my agent tried to push me towards Lokomotiv Moscow in January, saying it would be a fresh start. Portion of me contemplated the money they were offering could solve all my difficulties but why would being on my own out in Russia help? I had no feeling how to separate the cycle and is available on Moscow while still disabled only appeared a recipe for disaster. The director, Ian Holloway, was actually tell people to stand. Id been in his office close to rips, so he said: How anyone could feel sending you there would be a good theme is beyond me. You need to get yourself right. I realized him for that but, for the sorority, I can see why it was appealing to be shot of me but I was in no fit district to move and eventually pulled the plug on it.

Id had one last-place gamble and lost a blaze of a lot of money in December. A last blowout. It was at that point I lastly countenanced I could not win; that there was no quick fix , no more fantasizing I could save the world through one good nighttime on the roulette wheel. It was all a fantasize that took me away from having to feel anything. I entertained suicide a lot in that stage. A dark era. Everything Id gone through in football, where had it taken me? All the remorse, the shame, the shame, the public humiliation in the working paper and for what? I could cling to my son, to what Id done in Africa, or the dimensions Id bought their own families, but Id blown everything else. I calculate Ive lost 70% what Ive payed. When “were losing” that amount of money, the guilt thats so many lives you could have changed. There was no flee , no way out, other than to leave.

Steven Caulker says: In Liverpool I was waking up in the middle of the darknes throwing up, parties were extorting me, club owneds and bouncers. Picture: Sarah Lee for the Guardian

But, in the moments of clarity, I knew I couldnt do that because of my son. I havent gambled since but the drink crowded the void for a while. I was frightened and didnt feel like there was anywhere else to transform. Rehab didnt production before so why would it work now? I stupidly took convenience in the alcohol but it objective up deepening the depression. It was relentless from every slant. Until 12 March. Thats the day I lost my “drivers licence”. Thats when I realised my life had now become unmanageable.

Caulker was ordered to pay 12,755 in penalties and costs at Slough magistrates court at the end of March and was banned from driving for 18 months, having refused to blow into a breathalyser after police were called to a parking lot near Windsor Castle. I knew I was over the limit, I knew Id get the ban but I didnt want to tell my parents Id fucked up again. What if I had driven the car out of the car park and killed someone? No, that was it. Ive been up before a adjudicate four or five times. No more second probabilities. Its a incarcerate sentence next. I was still injured and unable to play, so I signed off sick. I went to see a specialist who diagnosed me with depression and nervousnes. He prescribed me medication and we put together a design where I would take some time away to sort myself out.

He and his lover travelled to Africa and India, is contributing to orphanages, homeless shelters and academies where the bear was exposed and obvious. He has attended countless Gamblers Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous gathers, and has reached out to support works in video games such as Clarke Carlisle for advice. He has not touched alcohol since his arrest in March. He takes medication, a feeling stabiliser is striving to match my high-priceds and lows, and address that substance inequality which draws my practices so cataclysmic, twice a day. Golf is a new, most constructive vice.

People say Ive done all this because Ive had too much money shed at me but I know teenagers without a penny who have the same addictive characters as me. Whether I played football or not I would still be suffering from this illness, precisely without the public pressure and mortification. Addiction does not care. I am a man of extremes. Parties dont find me doing the additional training, feeing right, going to the reserve every night to get fit, were represented at the anonymous convenes, doing the donation make. That is still me. That is who I am. But I get fucked by these other demons and I desperately necessary something in the middle. I feel like Im getting there now, that things have finally changed.

Im doing interesting thing merely to prompt me to stay on track. I could be relying on taxis to get me everywhere while Im banned but Im exploiting public transport. Im living in one of the owneds I own in Feltham, back where I grew up, to stir me recollect how hard I had to work to get out of here aged 15. Its a remember that, if I continue to unravel, I wont improve my statu again. Money considers the fissures. It can be evil. It prolongs the agony.

QPRs musicians reported for pre-season last-place Friday but Caulker, who has one year to run on his contract and has been improving all summertime with the former conference player Drewe Broughton at Goals centre in Hayes, had been signed off until July. Life at the golf-club had degenerated into an incessant flow of internal disciplinary hearings and, despite Holloway having become clear his desire to retain the centre-halfs business, his future will not is currently under Loftus Road. What happens next is all a bit perplexed, all a bit uncertain, he says. The manager has texted me several times offering his support and “says hes” misses me at the club but my brand-new representative has been informed by the owners Im not welcome back.

For too long Ive disliked everything about myself and I needed to learn to affection myself again. I miss video games like crazy. I dont detect as if Ive experienced playing football since Cardiff. I dont want to type my identify into Google and just see a roster of humbling narrations. I want people to remember I am a footballer who was good enough to represent his country at 20 and still has 10 years left in the game. At 40% of my ability, I was playing at the highest level. Now I feel good mentally and I want the chance to show people, including my son, what I am absolutely capable of. Wherever the opportunity starts, Im exactly appreciative still to be alive.

In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123.

In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255.

In Australia, the crisis support assistance Lifeline is on 13 11 14.

The post Steven Caulker:’ I’ve sat here for years hating myself … This year was almost the end’ appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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[apsbicepstraining]

Steven Caulker:’ I’ve sat here for years hating myself … This year was almost the end’

The QPR defender talks powerfully about his strives with mental illness, his addictions to gamble and drinking and why “he il be” thankful still to be alive

Steven Caulker has a fable to tell and, as hard as it is to hear, it is best plainly to listen. His stream of consciousness veers from scoring on his England debut less than five years ago and the excite at potential being realised to the frightening mental health issues a matter that have almost terminated it all in the period since. A actor who, from the outside, emerged consecrated with endowment and opportunity speaks of frantic nervousnes and self-loathing.

He entertained killing himself in his darkest instants with his path one of self-destruction. Endeavors at escapism rate him hundreds of thousands of pounds, compensations frittered away in casinoes. Then came the drinking is targeted at numbing the sting. The 25 -year-old notes himself recalling the times spent in custody watching CCTV footage of his misdemeanours, his lawyer at his slope, and not recognising the infamous being on the screen.

Football is still coming to terms with mental illness and Caulker, an international and a last-place linger remember at Queens Park Rangers of financially misguided dates as a Premier League club, has been an easy target. He is not was striving to make excuses or acquire sympathy. These are details he knows unpleasant to narrate. Ive sat here for years hating myself and never understand why it is I couldnt only be like everybody else, he says. This time was almost the end. I seemed for large spans there was no light-footed at the end of the passageway. And yet “hes not” residence a gambling since December, or stroked alcohol since early March. The healing process that can rehabilitate him to the top level is well under way, with this interview, one he attempted out, potentially another step on the road to recovery.

A little under a year ago Caulker had spoken to the Guardian about a life-changing week spent in Sierra Leone, of humbling yet invigorating benevolence work with ActionAid that had rendered him with a sense of view. He returned to be galvanised under Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink at Loftus Road and, having invested the previous season on loan at Southampton and Liverpool unfulfilling stints which fuelled his latent dangers was ready to give his all. Early season recitals against Leeds and Cardiff indicated confidence had been rebuilt, reward for a summer of incessant fitness work.

The trigger that they are able to mail him spiralling to rock bottom would be injury. He snapped his groin at Barnsley and played in pain for weeks, dreading a incantation back in rehabilitation, before succumbing to an accompanied hip objection. I owed it to QPR to try, he says, but I was naive thinking I could still perform with the weeping. He has not played since last-place October, with the period celebrated by personal ferment and, simply of late, resurgence. Talking publicly, he advocated, may place younger participates towards seeking assist if they find themselves trampling the same itinerary, or knowing the same gumption of desertion, in a merciless industry. The real hope is the activity, as gallant as it is, may eventually prove more cathartic for Caulker himself.

He recognises his football ability as a gift but likewise a swear. It took him from Sunday League at 15 into the Premier League four years later, to the 2012 Olympics with Great Britain and into Roy Hodgsons England side for a friendly in Sweden later that year. His talent has persuaded some of the most respected directors he is worth engaging. Yet, while he could still get away with it on the pitch, he lived in denial. It was more than six years into his busines before he admitted he necessitated assist. You always think you can rein it back in again and the money plies a inaccurate sense of security. But at Southampton I realised, mentally, I was extend. I wasnt playing, my job was going nowhere and I had to reach out to someone. Medical doctors there tried to help me but others were just telling me got to go on the tone and express myself.

There was no understanding as to what was happening in my leader. I know theyd returned me in to do a job and they werent there to be babysitters. Just like at QPR, I needed to justify the money they were paying me but I was in a state and, at some place, there has to be a duty of care. Football does not deal well with mental illness. Maybe its changing but the support mechanisms are so often not there. Ive spoken to so many actors who have been told to go to the Sporting Chance clinic and theyve accepted because they know, if they take time off, theyll “losing ones” neighbourhood in the team. Someone gradations in and does well, so youre departed. That dissuades parties from getting improve. You feel obliged to get on with things.

I would urge cubs to speak to the PFA, to speak to their director, and not be scared about being stopped if they are experiencing like I did. Be brave enough to say you need improve before its too late. The feeling Id ever involved something to take the edge off. Football was my flee as a kid but that changed when I was chucked into the first team as a adolescent and abruptly football came with distres. My behavior of to address it, even in the early stages of my career, was gambling. Im an addict. Im addicted to triumphing, which people say is a positive in football but certainly not when it extends to gambling. I was addicted to trying to beat the system, because you reassure yourself there is a plan to it and you can beat it. You can never get your brain around why you arent.

Steven Caulker, here celebrating after scoring on his England debut in 2012, says his football ability is a gift but too a affliction. Photograph: Michael Regan/ Getty Images

He has played 123 ages in the Premier League and for eight teams with the same, horribly familiar hertz of insecurity and self-destruction seeking him to each. There is always a catalyst to the nosedive. The sleepless darkness, sat up till 5am replaying every bad decision Ive ever became in my life, perturbing what will be next Tottenham moved me to Bristol City on loan at 18 and they set me in a flat in the city centre surrounded by nightclubs, two casinos opposite, the various kinds of coin Id never seen in my life, and no counseling whatsoever. I was plucked formerly by a member of staff and told Id been recognized in the casino at 3am but their posture was: What you do in your free time is your business. Just dont gave it affect your acts out on the pitch.

At Swansea a year later it was an injury which created it all to the surface, and Spurs communicated me to Boasting Chance to sort myself out while I was recovering from my knee but I wasnt ready. I hadnt experienced enough agony to form me want to stop. I was gambling heavily when I went back to Tottenham, biding up to crazy hours of the darknes in casinos. I guess never feeling good enough played a big part in that. I never appeared I was on the same degree as any of the first-teamers but a big win in the casino and fund in my back pocket might change that. Being stopped sounds me even more because football was what I had relied on to make me feel better. So then the gambling was every single day. The pain of forgetting all my fund, combined with the pity and guilt, ingest away at me. So Id drink myself into oblivion so I wouldnt have to feel anything. I was numb but I was out of control.

The chairman, Daniel Levy, eventually attempted him out on a post-season trip-up to the Bahamas. He just said: The room you act is phenomenal. You either sort yourself out or lead but I can assure you, if you leave, youll be going down , not up. I was young, stupid. I took it as a challenge, a chance to prove him wrong. I was so immature. So I went to Cardiff and, for six months, everything was amazing. I was chieftain, the manager, Malky Mackay, knew I had some issues but offered to be there for me. I experienced wanted, so there was no gambling , no heavy binges but the second largest he was sacked, all the beasts came back. Thats all it took. Even before we played the next game, Id persuasion myself good-for-nothing would be the same. Thats the kind of cataclysmic envisioning Ive had to address.

Steven Caulker, here playing for Tottenham against Arsenal in 2010, says he made a big mistake leaving Spurs. Photo: Tom Jenkins for the Guardian

I pointed up at QPR that summertime, 2014, trying to hold it together, but the prompt there came in the second largest recreation when we were pummelled 4-0 at Tottenham. That detecting coming off the tone at White Hart Lane, knowing marriage been humiliated and that Levy was sitting up in the stand thinking: I told you so There was no disclaiming it any more. Id made a big mistake leaving Spurs. I should have stayed and sorted myself out. I required the ground to swallow me up. It just pounded in my psyche: dejection, unhappines, bitternes. From that instant I was run, even if I never wanted to accept it, and there is nothing that intensified. Id go for days without sleeping. I dont known better I endured it. That time was an absolute nightmare.

It was a vicious circle. Wed lose at the weekend and the love would get at me, and Id be interrupting. I really wanted to help us get results but we werent good enough and Id walk away taking responsibility in my head for the whole crews flunks. I couldnt sleep, are concerned about what had happened. The only comfort I acquired was in booze. It would silence the tones of indecision and self-hate, temporarily regardless, but Id be too intoxicated to go into teach, and the blackouts Id have no remember of anything. It could be Monday and Id have no remembrance of what had happened since Saturday night. Id wake up, roll over and look at my phone, and thered be texts from people saying: Did you really do this last-place darknes? The director want to talk to you. It was petrifying because I didnt know what had happened.

There were occasions where reference is would wake up in a police cell. He pouts when asked how often he has been arrested, upset to admit the above figures, but the drunk and disorderly offences would flare up from London to Southampton to Merseyside. Sometimes Id be sat there with law enforcement agencies and my solicitor, watching the CCTV footage of what Id done, and I didnt recognise myself. I couldnt conceive the person or persons I was. Its so hard to accept I could be like that. In Liverpool I was waking up in the middle of the nighttime throwing up, people were blackmailing me, association proprietors and bouncers: Offer money or well sell this story on you. And I had no meaning what Id even done on those blackouts. I eventually told the sorority I couldnt function and needed to go back into rehab.

Things might have improved last-place season under Hasselbaink had the hip hurt, diagnosed as a week-long edition that became a complaint which induced five different diagnosis , not interpret him powerless is again. Id expensed the organization 8m, was one of the top earners and one of the few left from the Premier League, and beings had no explanation why I wasnt acting. Why I was absent. It ended up as my toughest year ever. I couldnt learn. My girlfriend lost her mother and was grieving while living with someone struggling with craving. My son, who lives with his mother in Somerset, is still in academy so Id go months without recognizing him. He had always been my safe place. There was no release.

QPR and my agent tried to push me towards Lokomotiv Moscow in January, saying it would be a fresh start. Portion of me contemplated the money they were offering could solve all my difficulties but why would being on my own out in Russia help? I had no feeling how to separate the cycle and is available on Moscow while still disabled only appeared a recipe for disaster. The director, Ian Holloway, was actually tell people to stand. Id been in his office close to rips, so he said: How anyone could feel sending you there would be a good theme is beyond me. You need to get yourself right. I realized him for that but, for the sorority, I can see why it was appealing to be shot of me but I was in no fit district to move and eventually pulled the plug on it.

Id had one last-place gamble and lost a blaze of a lot of money in December. A last blowout. It was at that point I lastly countenanced I could not win; that there was no quick fix , no more fantasizing I could save the world through one good nighttime on the roulette wheel. It was all a fantasize that took me away from having to feel anything. I entertained suicide a lot in that stage. A dark era. Everything Id gone through in football, where had it taken me? All the remorse, the shame, the shame, the public humiliation in the working paper and for what? I could cling to my son, to what Id done in Africa, or the dimensions Id bought their own families, but Id blown everything else. I calculate Ive lost 70% what Ive payed. When “were losing” that amount of money, the guilt thats so many lives you could have changed. There was no flee , no way out, other than to leave.

Steven Caulker says: In Liverpool I was waking up in the middle of the darknes throwing up, parties were extorting me, club owneds and bouncers. Picture: Sarah Lee for the Guardian

But, in the moments of clarity, I knew I couldnt do that because of my son. I havent gambled since but the drink crowded the void for a while. I was frightened and didnt feel like there was anywhere else to transform. Rehab didnt production before so why would it work now? I stupidly took convenience in the alcohol but it objective up deepening the depression. It was relentless from every slant. Until 12 March. Thats the day I lost my “drivers licence”. Thats when I realised my life had now become unmanageable.

Caulker was ordered to pay 12,755 in penalties and costs at Slough magistrates court at the end of March and was banned from driving for 18 months, having refused to blow into a breathalyser after police were called to a parking lot near Windsor Castle. I knew I was over the limit, I knew Id get the ban but I didnt want to tell my parents Id fucked up again. What if I had driven the car out of the car park and killed someone? No, that was it. Ive been up before a adjudicate four or five times. No more second probabilities. Its a incarcerate sentence next. I was still injured and unable to play, so I signed off sick. I went to see a specialist who diagnosed me with depression and nervousnes. He prescribed me medication and we put together a design where I would take some time away to sort myself out.

He and his lover travelled to Africa and India, is contributing to orphanages, homeless shelters and academies where the bear was exposed and obvious. He has attended countless Gamblers Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous gathers, and has reached out to support works in video games such as Clarke Carlisle for advice. He has not touched alcohol since his arrest in March. He takes medication, a feeling stabiliser is striving to match my high-priceds and lows, and address that substance inequality which draws my practices so cataclysmic, twice a day. Golf is a new, most constructive vice.

People say Ive done all this because Ive had too much money shed at me but I know teenagers without a penny who have the same addictive characters as me. Whether I played football or not I would still be suffering from this illness, precisely without the public pressure and mortification. Addiction does not care. I am a man of extremes. Parties dont find me doing the additional training, feeing right, going to the reserve every night to get fit, were represented at the anonymous convenes, doing the donation make. That is still me. That is who I am. But I get fucked by these other demons and I desperately necessary something in the middle. I feel like Im getting there now, that things have finally changed.

Im doing interesting thing merely to prompt me to stay on track. I could be relying on taxis to get me everywhere while Im banned but Im exploiting public transport. Im living in one of the owneds I own in Feltham, back where I grew up, to stir me recollect how hard I had to work to get out of here aged 15. Its a remember that, if I continue to unravel, I wont improve my statu again. Money considers the fissures. It can be evil. It prolongs the agony.

QPRs musicians reported for pre-season last-place Friday but Caulker, who has one year to run on his contract and has been improving all summertime with the former conference player Drewe Broughton at Goals centre in Hayes, had been signed off until July. Life at the golf-club had degenerated into an incessant flow of internal disciplinary hearings and, despite Holloway having become clear his desire to retain the centre-halfs business, his future will not is currently under Loftus Road. What happens next is all a bit perplexed, all a bit uncertain, he says. The manager has texted me several times offering his support and “says hes” misses me at the club but my brand-new representative has been informed by the owners Im not welcome back.

For too long Ive disliked everything about myself and I needed to learn to affection myself again. I miss video games like crazy. I dont detect as if Ive experienced playing football since Cardiff. I dont want to type my identify into Google and just see a roster of humbling narrations. I want people to remember I am a footballer who was good enough to represent his country at 20 and still has 10 years left in the game. At 40% of my ability, I was playing at the highest level. Now I feel good mentally and I want the chance to show people, including my son, what I am absolutely capable of. Wherever the opportunity starts, Im exactly appreciative still to be alive.

In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123.

In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255.

In Australia, the crisis support assistance Lifeline is on 13 11 14.

The post Steven Caulker:’ I’ve sat here for years hating myself … This year was almost the end’ appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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[apsbicepstraining]

Steven Caulker:’ I’ve sat here for years hating myself … This year was almost the end’

The QPR defender talks powerfully about his strives with mental illness, his addictions to gamble and drinking and why “he il be” thankful still to be alive

Steven Caulker has a fable to tell and, as hard as it is to hear, it is best plainly to listen. His stream of consciousness veers from scoring on his England debut less than five years ago and the excite at potential being realised to the frightening mental health issues a matter that have almost terminated it all in the period since. A actor who, from the outside, emerged consecrated with endowment and opportunity speaks of frantic nervousnes and self-loathing.

He entertained killing himself in his darkest instants with his path one of self-destruction. Endeavors at escapism rate him hundreds of thousands of pounds, compensations frittered away in casinoes. Then came the drinking is targeted at numbing the sting. The 25 -year-old notes himself recalling the times spent in custody watching CCTV footage of his misdemeanours, his lawyer at his slope, and not recognising the infamous being on the screen.

Football is still coming to terms with mental illness and Caulker, an international and a last-place linger remember at Queens Park Rangers of financially misguided dates as a Premier League club, has been an easy target. He is not was striving to make excuses or acquire sympathy. These are details he knows unpleasant to narrate. Ive sat here for years hating myself and never understand why it is I couldnt only be like everybody else, he says. This time was almost the end. I seemed for large spans there was no light-footed at the end of the passageway. And yet “hes not” residence a gambling since December, or stroked alcohol since early March. The healing process that can rehabilitate him to the top level is well under way, with this interview, one he attempted out, potentially another step on the road to recovery.

A little under a year ago Caulker had spoken to the Guardian about a life-changing week spent in Sierra Leone, of humbling yet invigorating benevolence work with ActionAid that had rendered him with a sense of view. He returned to be galvanised under Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink at Loftus Road and, having invested the previous season on loan at Southampton and Liverpool unfulfilling stints which fuelled his latent dangers was ready to give his all. Early season recitals against Leeds and Cardiff indicated confidence had been rebuilt, reward for a summer of incessant fitness work.

The trigger that they are able to mail him spiralling to rock bottom would be injury. He snapped his groin at Barnsley and played in pain for weeks, dreading a incantation back in rehabilitation, before succumbing to an accompanied hip objection. I owed it to QPR to try, he says, but I was naive thinking I could still perform with the weeping. He has not played since last-place October, with the period celebrated by personal ferment and, simply of late, resurgence. Talking publicly, he advocated, may place younger participates towards seeking assist if they find themselves trampling the same itinerary, or knowing the same gumption of desertion, in a merciless industry. The real hope is the activity, as gallant as it is, may eventually prove more cathartic for Caulker himself.

He recognises his football ability as a gift but likewise a swear. It took him from Sunday League at 15 into the Premier League four years later, to the 2012 Olympics with Great Britain and into Roy Hodgsons England side for a friendly in Sweden later that year. His talent has persuaded some of the most respected directors he is worth engaging. Yet, while he could still get away with it on the pitch, he lived in denial. It was more than six years into his busines before he admitted he necessitated assist. You always think you can rein it back in again and the money plies a inaccurate sense of security. But at Southampton I realised, mentally, I was extend. I wasnt playing, my job was going nowhere and I had to reach out to someone. Medical doctors there tried to help me but others were just telling me got to go on the tone and express myself.

There was no understanding as to what was happening in my leader. I know theyd returned me in to do a job and they werent there to be babysitters. Just like at QPR, I needed to justify the money they were paying me but I was in a state and, at some place, there has to be a duty of care. Football does not deal well with mental illness. Maybe its changing but the support mechanisms are so often not there. Ive spoken to so many actors who have been told to go to the Sporting Chance clinic and theyve accepted because they know, if they take time off, theyll “losing ones” neighbourhood in the team. Someone gradations in and does well, so youre departed. That dissuades parties from getting improve. You feel obliged to get on with things.

I would urge cubs to speak to the PFA, to speak to their director, and not be scared about being stopped if they are experiencing like I did. Be brave enough to say you need improve before its too late. The feeling Id ever involved something to take the edge off. Football was my flee as a kid but that changed when I was chucked into the first team as a adolescent and abruptly football came with distres. My behavior of to address it, even in the early stages of my career, was gambling. Im an addict. Im addicted to triumphing, which people say is a positive in football but certainly not when it extends to gambling. I was addicted to trying to beat the system, because you reassure yourself there is a plan to it and you can beat it. You can never get your brain around why you arent.

Steven Caulker, here celebrating after scoring on his England debut in 2012, says his football ability is a gift but too a affliction. Photograph: Michael Regan/ Getty Images

He has played 123 ages in the Premier League and for eight teams with the same, horribly familiar hertz of insecurity and self-destruction seeking him to each. There is always a catalyst to the nosedive. The sleepless darkness, sat up till 5am replaying every bad decision Ive ever became in my life, perturbing what will be next Tottenham moved me to Bristol City on loan at 18 and they set me in a flat in the city centre surrounded by nightclubs, two casinos opposite, the various kinds of coin Id never seen in my life, and no counseling whatsoever. I was plucked formerly by a member of staff and told Id been recognized in the casino at 3am but their posture was: What you do in your free time is your business. Just dont gave it affect your acts out on the pitch.

At Swansea a year later it was an injury which created it all to the surface, and Spurs communicated me to Boasting Chance to sort myself out while I was recovering from my knee but I wasnt ready. I hadnt experienced enough agony to form me want to stop. I was gambling heavily when I went back to Tottenham, biding up to crazy hours of the darknes in casinos. I guess never feeling good enough played a big part in that. I never appeared I was on the same degree as any of the first-teamers but a big win in the casino and fund in my back pocket might change that. Being stopped sounds me even more because football was what I had relied on to make me feel better. So then the gambling was every single day. The pain of forgetting all my fund, combined with the pity and guilt, ingest away at me. So Id drink myself into oblivion so I wouldnt have to feel anything. I was numb but I was out of control.

The chairman, Daniel Levy, eventually attempted him out on a post-season trip-up to the Bahamas. He just said: The room you act is phenomenal. You either sort yourself out or lead but I can assure you, if you leave, youll be going down , not up. I was young, stupid. I took it as a challenge, a chance to prove him wrong. I was so immature. So I went to Cardiff and, for six months, everything was amazing. I was chieftain, the manager, Malky Mackay, knew I had some issues but offered to be there for me. I experienced wanted, so there was no gambling , no heavy binges but the second largest he was sacked, all the beasts came back. Thats all it took. Even before we played the next game, Id persuasion myself good-for-nothing would be the same. Thats the kind of cataclysmic envisioning Ive had to address.

Steven Caulker, here playing for Tottenham against Arsenal in 2010, says he made a big mistake leaving Spurs. Photo: Tom Jenkins for the Guardian

I pointed up at QPR that summertime, 2014, trying to hold it together, but the prompt there came in the second largest recreation when we were pummelled 4-0 at Tottenham. That detecting coming off the tone at White Hart Lane, knowing marriage been humiliated and that Levy was sitting up in the stand thinking: I told you so There was no disclaiming it any more. Id made a big mistake leaving Spurs. I should have stayed and sorted myself out. I required the ground to swallow me up. It just pounded in my psyche: dejection, unhappines, bitternes. From that instant I was run, even if I never wanted to accept it, and there is nothing that intensified. Id go for days without sleeping. I dont known better I endured it. That time was an absolute nightmare.

It was a vicious circle. Wed lose at the weekend and the love would get at me, and Id be interrupting. I really wanted to help us get results but we werent good enough and Id walk away taking responsibility in my head for the whole crews flunks. I couldnt sleep, are concerned about what had happened. The only comfort I acquired was in booze. It would silence the tones of indecision and self-hate, temporarily regardless, but Id be too intoxicated to go into teach, and the blackouts Id have no remember of anything. It could be Monday and Id have no remembrance of what had happened since Saturday night. Id wake up, roll over and look at my phone, and thered be texts from people saying: Did you really do this last-place darknes? The director want to talk to you. It was petrifying because I didnt know what had happened.

There were occasions where reference is would wake up in a police cell. He pouts when asked how often he has been arrested, upset to admit the above figures, but the drunk and disorderly offences would flare up from London to Southampton to Merseyside. Sometimes Id be sat there with law enforcement agencies and my solicitor, watching the CCTV footage of what Id done, and I didnt recognise myself. I couldnt conceive the person or persons I was. Its so hard to accept I could be like that. In Liverpool I was waking up in the middle of the nighttime throwing up, people were blackmailing me, association proprietors and bouncers: Offer money or well sell this story on you. And I had no meaning what Id even done on those blackouts. I eventually told the sorority I couldnt function and needed to go back into rehab.

Things might have improved last-place season under Hasselbaink had the hip hurt, diagnosed as a week-long edition that became a complaint which induced five different diagnosis , not interpret him powerless is again. Id expensed the organization 8m, was one of the top earners and one of the few left from the Premier League, and beings had no explanation why I wasnt acting. Why I was absent. It ended up as my toughest year ever. I couldnt learn. My girlfriend lost her mother and was grieving while living with someone struggling with craving. My son, who lives with his mother in Somerset, is still in academy so Id go months without recognizing him. He had always been my safe place. There was no release.

QPR and my agent tried to push me towards Lokomotiv Moscow in January, saying it would be a fresh start. Portion of me contemplated the money they were offering could solve all my difficulties but why would being on my own out in Russia help? I had no feeling how to separate the cycle and is available on Moscow while still disabled only appeared a recipe for disaster. The director, Ian Holloway, was actually tell people to stand. Id been in his office close to rips, so he said: How anyone could feel sending you there would be a good theme is beyond me. You need to get yourself right. I realized him for that but, for the sorority, I can see why it was appealing to be shot of me but I was in no fit district to move and eventually pulled the plug on it.

Id had one last-place gamble and lost a blaze of a lot of money in December. A last blowout. It was at that point I lastly countenanced I could not win; that there was no quick fix , no more fantasizing I could save the world through one good nighttime on the roulette wheel. It was all a fantasize that took me away from having to feel anything. I entertained suicide a lot in that stage. A dark era. Everything Id gone through in football, where had it taken me? All the remorse, the shame, the shame, the public humiliation in the working paper and for what? I could cling to my son, to what Id done in Africa, or the dimensions Id bought their own families, but Id blown everything else. I calculate Ive lost 70% what Ive payed. When “were losing” that amount of money, the guilt thats so many lives you could have changed. There was no flee , no way out, other than to leave.

Steven Caulker says: In Liverpool I was waking up in the middle of the darknes throwing up, parties were extorting me, club owneds and bouncers. Picture: Sarah Lee for the Guardian

But, in the moments of clarity, I knew I couldnt do that because of my son. I havent gambled since but the drink crowded the void for a while. I was frightened and didnt feel like there was anywhere else to transform. Rehab didnt production before so why would it work now? I stupidly took convenience in the alcohol but it objective up deepening the depression. It was relentless from every slant. Until 12 March. Thats the day I lost my “drivers licence”. Thats when I realised my life had now become unmanageable.

Caulker was ordered to pay 12,755 in penalties and costs at Slough magistrates court at the end of March and was banned from driving for 18 months, having refused to blow into a breathalyser after police were called to a parking lot near Windsor Castle. I knew I was over the limit, I knew Id get the ban but I didnt want to tell my parents Id fucked up again. What if I had driven the car out of the car park and killed someone? No, that was it. Ive been up before a adjudicate four or five times. No more second probabilities. Its a incarcerate sentence next. I was still injured and unable to play, so I signed off sick. I went to see a specialist who diagnosed me with depression and nervousnes. He prescribed me medication and we put together a design where I would take some time away to sort myself out.

He and his lover travelled to Africa and India, is contributing to orphanages, homeless shelters and academies where the bear was exposed and obvious. He has attended countless Gamblers Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous gathers, and has reached out to support works in video games such as Clarke Carlisle for advice. He has not touched alcohol since his arrest in March. He takes medication, a feeling stabiliser is striving to match my high-priceds and lows, and address that substance inequality which draws my practices so cataclysmic, twice a day. Golf is a new, most constructive vice.

People say Ive done all this because Ive had too much money shed at me but I know teenagers without a penny who have the same addictive characters as me. Whether I played football or not I would still be suffering from this illness, precisely without the public pressure and mortification. Addiction does not care. I am a man of extremes. Parties dont find me doing the additional training, feeing right, going to the reserve every night to get fit, were represented at the anonymous convenes, doing the donation make. That is still me. That is who I am. But I get fucked by these other demons and I desperately necessary something in the middle. I feel like Im getting there now, that things have finally changed.

Im doing interesting thing merely to prompt me to stay on track. I could be relying on taxis to get me everywhere while Im banned but Im exploiting public transport. Im living in one of the owneds I own in Feltham, back where I grew up, to stir me recollect how hard I had to work to get out of here aged 15. Its a remember that, if I continue to unravel, I wont improve my statu again. Money considers the fissures. It can be evil. It prolongs the agony.

QPRs musicians reported for pre-season last-place Friday but Caulker, who has one year to run on his contract and has been improving all summertime with the former conference player Drewe Broughton at Goals centre in Hayes, had been signed off until July. Life at the golf-club had degenerated into an incessant flow of internal disciplinary hearings and, despite Holloway having become clear his desire to retain the centre-halfs business, his future will not is currently under Loftus Road. What happens next is all a bit perplexed, all a bit uncertain, he says. The manager has texted me several times offering his support and “says hes” misses me at the club but my brand-new representative has been informed by the owners Im not welcome back.

For too long Ive disliked everything about myself and I needed to learn to affection myself again. I miss video games like crazy. I dont detect as if Ive experienced playing football since Cardiff. I dont want to type my identify into Google and just see a roster of humbling narrations. I want people to remember I am a footballer who was good enough to represent his country at 20 and still has 10 years left in the game. At 40% of my ability, I was playing at the highest level. Now I feel good mentally and I want the chance to show people, including my son, what I am absolutely capable of. Wherever the opportunity starts, Im exactly appreciative still to be alive.

In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123.

In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255.

In Australia, the crisis support assistance Lifeline is on 13 11 14.

The post Steven Caulker:’ I’ve sat here for years hating myself … This year was almost the end’ appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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