#great resignation mental health

[piplupod]

why do counsellors think it's helpful to tell you "you shouldn't feel that way!" when you tell them something like "I am so stressed about spiders to the point where i have crying breakdowns thrice a week" or "I feel like I am somehow secretly a terrible person that needs to push everyone away to keep them safe from the rot that is inside of me"

like ... golly gee, thank you so much, that's soooo helpful, can't believe i never thought "wow! i shouldn't be feeling this way!" before, pretty crazy that you can just cure me with that one declaration!

[thegenxpointofview]

Wisdom from a 50 year old (Me) - Coworkers are not your friend

Normally on Wednesdays, I do an anxiety piece but today I am going to give you some wisdom and a short story to back it up. The wisdom? You’re Co-Workers are not your friends. Now you probably knew that but it’s a broad statement that encompasses everything. You see any piece of information you give to a coworker can be told to someone else and potentially used against you. Now maybe you know…

[rhendarzon]

I'm going through some major changes in my personal life so I'm can hardly come on Tumblr for now

But I still will and have lots of edits in mind I'd like to do, I just only have the time to do it on weekends :')

Also holy crap my queue ran out

[rando-soapbox]

It’s a generous understatement to state that the COVID-19 pandemic had an impact on every individual. Nearly everyone was challenged to learn how to navigate life in ways contrary to what we’ve always known. Masks and sanitizer became new fixtures in our lives, and something as simple as getting groceries was no longer an option. For those fortunate enough to retain their jobs, they had to learn how to integrate two spheres otherwise kept separate: work and home. And some found that they liked it that way. Millions of people, in fact, chose to leave their jobs in the time following the “end” of the COVID-19 pandemic, leaving a trail of question marks in their wake and a dubious economy wondering all the same question of why?

The Pew Research Center conducted a thorough analysis and compiled a good collection of reasons why employees resigned from their jobs. However, it still begs the question of what actually incited the Great Resignation after such an already impactful moment in history. While there are plenty of articles that delve deeper into the subject of the Great Resignation beyond the one provided, I propose merely two words to condense it all into one palatable explanation: choosing themselves.

Thanks to the pandemic, workers were given a new perspective on work-life balance. Commutes were no longer applicable at the time of the pandemic, so workers were saving money on transportation costs. Another cost-saving item removed from their budget was entertainment because, yet again, they couldn’t leave their homes. Money wasn’t the only currency workers were saving. Time was also a commodity. Employees had free reign over their schedules that they could allot to other aspects of their life (i.e., childcare, traveling, education, etc.). For the first time, employees were now able to put themselves first instead of their job(s).

[hwajoongie]

I want to move out of this state so bad 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

[quotesfrommyreading]

Molly Phelps, an emergency doctor of 18 years, considered herself a lifer. Her medical career had cost her time with her family, wrecked her circadian rhythms, and taxed her mental health, but it offered so much meaning that “I was willing to stay and be miserable,” she told me. But after the horrific winter surge, Phelps was shocked that her hospital’s administrators “never acknowledged what we went through,” while many of her patients “seemed to forget their humanity.” Medicine’s personal cost seemed greater than ever, but the fulfillment that had previously tempered it was missing. On July 21, during an uneventful evening spent scrolling through news of the Delta surge, Phelps had a sudden epiphany. “Oh my God, I think I’m done,” she realized. “And I think it’s okay to walk away and be happy.”

America’s medical exodus is especially tragic because of how little it might have taken to stop it. Phelps told me that if her workplace “had thrown a little more of a bone, that would have been enough to keep me miserable for 13 more years.” Some health systems are starting to offer retention bonuses, long-overdue raises, or hazard pay. And the next generation of health-care workers doesn’t seem to be deterred. Applications to medical and nursing schools have risen during the pandemic. “That workforce is apparently seeing the best of us, and maybe their vision and energy is what we need to make us whole again,” Esther Choo told me.

But today’s students will take years to graduate, and the onus is on the current establishment to reshape an environment that won’t immediately break them, Choo said. “We need to say, ‘We got this wrong, and despite that, you’re willing to invest your lives in this career? What an incredible gift. We can’t look at that and change nothing.’”

 —   Why Health-Care Workers Are Quitting in Droves

[drpwsmithwp]

Good Enough

In my very first job as a young engineer fresh out of college, I worked under an old, curmudgeonly manager who was approaching retirement.  Bob (his real name) was an anxious chain-smoker, in the days when smoking in the office was allowed.  For all his idiosyncrasies,  he taught me some important lessons about “thinking outside the book” (my words, not his).  Without articulating it explicitly,…

[oybay]

September 2, 2022 Welcome to Newton’s Third Law…

September 2, 2022 Welcome to Newton’s Third Law…

The virus is still active – more than ever, in fact – in a more contagious but milder form. In some ways it’s more dangerous now as it lulls us into a sense of invulnerability, the belief we have big red capes and a giant ‘I’ for immune on our chests. Except this isn’t a Marvel movie and we are not immune. The vaccinated get much milder cases. Those without boosters fall into a cycle of getting…

[queerveganadventures]

just staying alilve

i can’t remember how young i was when i learned that the rda is bullshit. i think i was in middle or high school. i know i was starting to learn about nutrition while also just having ice cream and candy bars from the machines in the lunch cafeteria because it was cheap and easy and lunchtime was stressful as a queer kid in kansas.  it was probably a day when i grabbed the q-r volume of the…

[chaoticbardlady99]

Yesterday I Felt like Dancing (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: You have burnt both ends of the candle and haven’t been taking care of your mental health. Unable to get yourself out of bed, Astarion begins to worry about you…

Author note- I have been hardcore struggling with my mental health lately and writing my silly little fics has been the only thing pulling me along. I thought it might be therapeutic to write about my current feelings (I have ADHD, MDD, and GAD so it’s a party up in here). I hope you enjoy!

CW- Suicidal Ideation, symptoms of depression, brief outburst, mentions of mental health diagnosis and poor medical advice.

Title inspired by song “Into the Walls” by Griff.

*not my pic, could not tell you where I found it so I apologize in advance. If you think it might be your picture, please message me so I can give proper credit.

Your last day before backtracking from the Mountain Pass to the Goblin camp is a difficult one.

Not for the group as a whole- just you specifically.

Days before a Mindflayer kidnapped you, a healer back home had told you your brain was sick. You had been devastated- resigned to your miserable fate.

You had been struggling for years at that point with inconsistent motivation, exhaustion, nightmares, and irrational thoughts for months. You have been functional for the most part, but then an overpowering wave will hit you like Warhammer in the ribs and you are rendered useless until it passes.

The healer suggested sunlight, exercise, eating healthy, and spending time with friends to help your affliction when you hit rock bottom. You were wildly unimpressed with her. At the time, you preferred to self isolate so you stayed by yourself in the woods trying to find peace there. You would have to let her know that her “going out and enjoying the sun” message is not always wise- you may get a tadpole shoved in your head. You can’t be that mad though- the tadpole helped bring your pep back.

Anyway, you have been doing all of that for weeks now, you even felt great, but today? You could not have hit rock bottom harder even if you tried.

You woke up that morning unable to get yourself out of bed. It was a rest day so it wasn’t a big deal, but you also know that your companions are going to have things they need to talk to you about and favors they need you to take care of.

Gods you had tried to get up. You are grateful that your past self had the gumption to wash off and change into clean clothes last night, but your armor is still disgustingly sitting outside your tent and your hair is long and wild. You had wanted to braid it, but it all felt like too much work.

Everything feels like too much work right now- even staying awake- so you drift in and out of uncomfortable naps throughout the morning. No matter how many times you fall asleep, begging for relief from the painful brick wall sitting on your brain, it never leaves.

You can feel the midday breeze rustle your tent. You’ve been laying here for hours now. You are crying and you honestly aren’t sure why. You feel completely paralyzed by all the things you need to do to be ready for the Underdark.

You need to clean your armor, go over the Goblin Camp’s map with Wyll, find Gale a magical artifact, and probably comfort Lae’zel since she’s been branded a heretic- but you won’t. The shame and self loathing continues. You are a silly, worthless little human being.

Every person who knocks on your tent gets a simple, “I’m just not feeling well,” and then they walk away. You don’t know why it makes you more sad than appreciative. If you were in their shoes- you would be bending over backwards to make sure they had everything they needed and you wouldn’t let them feel alone. Then you resent yourself for feeling that way towards your companions- they don’t owe you anything and you were the one who chose to help them- you didn’t ask for anything in return. This is all your fault.

The only person who hadn’t come to visit you was Astarion- which hurt your heart just a little, enough that the numbness coursing thickly through your body wavered for a moment. You are quite smitten and he is obviously not. Another mistake to add to the swirling black hole your mind has fallen into.

You knew it was stupid to want his comfort and affections- you had merely slept together a little less than a week ago. Astarion has been quasi avoiding you ever since and when he does talk to you- he’s awkward. You constantly look for flying pigs- Astarion feeling awkward or being awkward is unheard of.

You have come to accept that you were just some tryst and obviously he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he said he did.

Astarion isn’t to blame and the situation itself certainly didn’t contribute to the sudden lack of emotions. You knew that you were on the verge of a mental collapse sooner rather than later, but you had foolishly hoped you wouldn’t be alone through it. It feels less all consuming when you try to find a reason. It’s more comfortable to know than it is to give up and say, “my brain is fucked and there isn’t a damn thing I can do so I guess I’m stuck here.”

You are jolted out of your thoughts by another knock on your tent.

“I’m sick,” you say flatly.

“Ha- you act like that will deter me. I can’t even get sick, Darling.”

Before you even have time to register that Astarion is on the other side of your tent- he pushes his way through the flaps and stares down at you in confusion. And… concern?

Astarion steps inside and kneels down next to you- scanning you for evidence of illness or injury.

“I suppose I had been worried for nothing,” he smiles sweetly at you, “you are totally fine. Come on Darling, you have to get up and eat. Wyll is fumbling with that map.”

You look at him and begin to cry. Astarion’s face lights up with alarm.

“What- what did I do!?”

“Please don’t make me,” you sob, “I just want a break. I’m so tired. I want to lay in this bed forever and never leave, but there is so much to do and it’s paralyzing.”

You continue to cry and you cover yourself with the extra blanket- successfully hiding your face.

“Go away,” you whisper, “I need to be left alone.”

You say it, but you are far from meaning it. You want him to stay- to hold you- but he doesn’t want you so it will only make everything hurt worse once the numbness fades away.

You wait for several moments and then you hear him leave. Your silent cry turns into choked sobs and your body is shaking from the pain you are in. The numbness hurts. The numbness tells you that you shouldn’t be alive.

Maybe you shouldn’t be.

Everyone here would be able to figure it out on their own (eventually) and you would finally be free. Free of your uncomfortable brain, free of your ugly body- free of the expectations of others. You would no longer be holding them back like you are today- like you will again in the future.

You are sure they would temporarily grieve you, but that was the deal with this whole journey. You had all accepted that one of you or all of you could die at any moment. You will just put them in more danger by being here…

You shake the thought from your head, violently- your head is pounding from the growing tension headache and dehydration. The tears eventually stop and you just… well, lay in bed again. You stare blankly at a book over in the corner. You keep trying to convince yourself to get up and read the damn thing- do literally ANYTHING else than just stay here in your bedroll.

Instead, you fall asleep.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up to someone knocking on your tent post. You grumble incoherently, covering your head and you hear your unexpected guest sit down next to you. The smell of food fills the tent and your stomach grumbles.

“You need to eat, my Dear,” Astarion says softly.

You are stunned to hear his voice grace your ears. You slowly pull the blanket down to just below your eyes and look at him. Astarion looks distressed, like he doesn’t want to be here. Why would he? You’re a nuisance.

You sit up gingerly and grab the bowl from him. You manage to give him a lopsided smile.

“Thanks. You don’t need to stay, I will be fine on my own,” you say apathetically, staring into the broth.

“I want to stay,” he says, “if you’ll have me.”

The expression on his face is unreadable, but he seems genuine. You nod, your lips pressed together tightly. You eat as much as you feel like while Astarion studies you.

Usually your anxiety is at an all time high (in maybe one of the better ways) when you are around Astarion- he gives you butterflies, butterflies, and even more butterflies. Usually your heart is racing in his presence, but right now you just feel empty.

“Where is your hairbrush?” Astarion asks.

You frown with confusion, “it’s in my bag, why?”

Astarion gets up and goes over to the bag- digging out a few items. He pulls out a lantern, your hairbrush, and a hair tie. Astarion comes over to you and sits down behind you. You feel him gather up the stray pieces of your hair and get to work.

Astarion runs his fingers through your scalp and your tangled hair- the feeling is soothing and it opens something inside of you. Your body shakes silently with sobs and you feel the worm behind your eyes wiggle as Astarion asks for access. You aren’t sure.

“I want to understand,” Astarion says, “please.”

His voice is so raw and desperate- you swallow thickly before allowing him to explore your current emotional state. The silence in the tent is palpable and you feel tense, uncomfortable even. No one has ever cared for you while you are in this state before.

You feel him continue his hairbrushing after he exits your mind. Astarion leaves soft kisses on your shoulder as he gently pulls apart every knot. It helps- you realize- to feel cared for. The numbness still hurts, you still hurt, but it’s nice to not feel so alone.

After Astarion is done brushing your hair, you feel his delicate fingers begin to intricately braid your hair. You wonder when he learned how to do hair.

“Leon’s daughter, Victoria, used to ask me to braid her hair all the time,” Astarion says in a bittersweet voice as if reading your mind, “I picked it up so that she would stop bugging me about it. She said and I quote, ‘you have the perfect braiding hands!’”

You smile to yourself tenderly, “That’s very kind of you, Star. I am sure she appreciated it as much as I appreciate it now.”

You feel Astarion’s hands falter at your words and you are unsure if you have upset him or not. A pregnant pause occurs before Astarion finally clears his throat and goes back to braiding your hair.

“I’m glad that I can help,” Astarion’s delicate, vulnerable words hang in the air, “I’ve… been worried about you today.”

You feel positively flustered and bad for making him feel that way.

“Oh you don’t need to worry about silly ole me! This happens sometimes” you make your voice chirpier than it needs to be, “This is actually the longest I’ve gone for a long time without this happening. I have theorized that the tadpole might help which is kinda cool- I think?”

You laugh awkwardly- desperate to ease his worry.

“How often does this happen?”

Shit. That was the winning question wasn’t it? Astarion will surely never see you as anything less than broken now.

“I’m not really sure,” your voice comes out in a whisper, “I usually always feel a bit of it all the time, but it’s manageable. I function very well regardless.”

“But this one isn’t manageable and evidently you aren’t functional right now.”

You sigh, “No, it isn’t and no, I’m not.”

“What changed?”

“Nothing,” you say, maybe too harshly, “that’s the part that drives me crazy. Yesterday was incredible- I was on top of the whole world, felt like dancing and screaming from the rooftops, but today!?”

You inhale and hold back the muted scream that wants to fill the air.

“Today,” you hiss, “I don’t even want to deal with any of this shit anymore. I’m so fucking tired. There is too much to fucking do and too many people depending on me. Then everyone gets irritated with me if I ask to push off their problems so I persevere through it despite knowing I’m getting bad again. I’m a giant stinking trash heap that everyone keeps adding more to.”

Astarion finishes braiding your hair and presses your back to his chest, pulling you into him. He puts his arms around your waist and settles his chin and face in between the crook of your neck.

“I just feel like such a nuisance all the time- no matter how hard I push myself to prove I’m not. Sometimes I think everyone would be better off if I just… went away.”

You both sit there quietly. At some point he had taken one of your hands in his and he was tracing shapes into the back of it with his thumb. Your omission still hangs heavily in the air.

“I wouldn’t be better off,” Astarion says hotly, “I’d be stuck with all these weirdos by myself. That would be truly miserable, Darling.”

You shake your head, a half smile on your face.

“And besides- you are not even close to a nuisance,” Astarion states, leaving a kiss on your cheek, “at least you aren’t in constant need of magical objects to eat or blood to drink. Oh and you don’t require a painstaking amount of searching to prevent you from literally burning everyone alive.

“Oh and did I forget to mention, we have not one, but two women who despise each other and follow hateful Goddesses which was a fun choice for whatever sick bastard twisted our fates this way.”

You laugh breathily, closing your eyes and letting the sound defrost some of your insides.

“What I’m saying is- I think you are the least of everyone’s ‘nuisances’, my Darling,” he says, squeezing you tighter to his chest, “despite how little you think of yourself. We ne- no, I want you to stay. I know everyone else would say the same, but I must emphasize that I would be horribly distraught if you disappeared. Hells I’d even pay to have you resurrected.”

You gasp playfully, your voice falling slightly flat, “You? The most frugal man I have ever met would pay 200 gold coins to ‘Strike thy name from the record’?”

Your impression of Withers gets Astarion to genuinely laugh- the sound vibrating in your chest. You lean into him and he guides you back to laying down. Astarion entangles his legs with yours as he holds you tightly- your faces are mere centimeters apart. You love the way Astarion smells- rosemary, bergamot, and brandy. You wish you could be wrapped up in him forever. You are still in pain- everything still hurts and feels too difficult, but right now it feels a little less heavy.

“I would throw bags of Gold Coins at that corpse out of revenge, my Dear,” he teases, “you couldn’t possibly think I would ever let you rest peacefully in your grave- I would be far too angry with you and unhappy without you to let that happen.”

You lay there and despite yourself, you lean forward and leave butterfly kisses along his cheeks with your lashes. Astarion scrunches up his nose reflexively and smiles at you. You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips.

“Thank you Astarion- for everything.”

You close your eyes as he traces circles along your lower back. Your eyes begin to droop, and you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When you wake up the next morning- you are disappointed to find that you are all alone in your tent. The heavy numbness is still there and you sigh. At least last night made it more bearable.

You look on the side where Astarion had been sleeping and find a note with a bottle attached to it. You pick it up and begin to read.

Tav,

Astarion had asked me about herbs for some relief regarding mental discomforts. I unfortunately don’t know many, but this is a mixture of St. John’s Wort, Valerian Root, and Ashwagandha. Historically, I know these have been used to alleviate emotional and mental pain.

Astarion didn’t tell me why he was asking, but I deduced it was you pretty quickly when he began shooing everyone away from your tent this morning.

I hope this helps- we are all here if you need us. May Silvanus light your path as you navigate this difficult time.

-Halsin

You sit in your own stunned silence for what feels like hours. Halsin knows and he wants to help? Halsin doesn’t think you are screwed or a nuisance? The man barely even knows you!

You are a bit embarrassed, but you can’t help but laugh at the image of Astarion telling everyone to leave you alone.

You open the bottle and a pleasant, earthy smell fills the tent. You drink the mixture (that definitely does not taste anywhere near as pleasant as it smells) and you do feel a slight bit better. Your apathy feels even more tolerable now. You will have to thank Halsin.

You slowly rise from your tent and look around. Everything is packed up neatly in the corner- your clothes from the previous day are folded nicely and you notice all the holes are sewn up.

You jump when someone enters your tent abruptly- the midday sun warming your skin. You turn around and Astarion is smiling at you, but looks nervous.

“I cleaned off your armor and your weapons,” he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, “I also packed up your stuff- as you can see. We have to start leaving unfortunately, but I’ll help you get on your armor like I usually do- I might still need help with mine though, but I can ask someone else if it’s too much for you right now. Lae’zel and Karlach offered to pack up your tent. Wyll and Shadowheart figured out the map- Wyll is going to be our ‘fearless’ leader for the day. Gale has some food for you to snack on while we travel- which you will be eating, by the way.”

Astarion is looking at you with a vulnerable expression on his face. He plays nervously with the gold coin in his hands.

You can hardly believe what you are hearing.

“Did- did you do all this for me?” You say with disbelief.

You never thought Astarion was capable of smiling shyly until he had admitted to you that you had been his first thinking creature- you certainly never thought you’d see him become shy twice in your presence.

“I did and it wasn’t a nuisance so don’t even begin to worry about that,” He walks over to you, gently cradling your face in his hands, “I hope this is all okay.”

You smile- the first genuine feeling of happiness you’ve felt in the last 24 hours gently sparks in your chest as you stare up at him. You get up on your tiptoes and bridge the gap between your lips.

“Thank you Astarion, this is perfect- you are perfect,” you are crying tears of joy, “this is the kindest gesture anyone has ever made for me. So just, thank you.”

“Of course, Darling,” he says smiling in between kisses, “I won’t let you lose to yourself. We’ll get through this together from now on- no more hiding.”

And for once? You actually believe someone.

-if you guys like this, please let me know if you would want a part two written from Astarion’s perspective.

Update- I did the thing you silly geese

https://www.tumblr.com/chaoticbardlady99/735969926279528448/i-took-all-this-love-i-found-and-i-hope-that-its

Tag-list: @spacebarbarianweird @domainoflostsouls

[welcometomyoasis]

You are exactly where you need to be | Boo Seungkwan

Prompt: “No need to rush, you're doing fine. Just stay as you are" - seventeen mymy lyrics Pairing: seungkwan x gn! reader Genre: angst, hurt/comfort Word Count: approx. 1750 words Warnings: mental health, anxiety, depression, dissociation, burnout, description of panic attack  A/n: this is very heavy on mental health issues so read at your own risk. Not tagging any networks just in case. The first part is very descriptive. If you want to skip to where Seungkwan comes in, scroll down to the part that says {{START HERE}}. It’s after the third section divider. Also, this is my first time writing a longer fic for Seungkwan so I’m sorry if he is out of character. 

{{LAST WARNING: PLEASE READ WARNINGS CAREFULLY}}

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

To say that the past few weeks, months (and maybe years) had been rough would be an understatement. Despite working your fingers to the bone, nothing you ever did was good enough. You were never good enough for the dean's list, you were never good enough to get the promotion you wanted, hell, you were never good enough to even get the A in the class you worked so hard for. Everything in your life felt like it had come to a stand still. Your progress had simply stagnated. In fact, you felt like you had regressed. 

You had watched as your classmates and friends went on to achieve greatness. They had the best grades and always managed to land the best jobs with the best pay. In the rat race that is life, they were the ones who won the race. You on the other hand? You felt like the rat that kept getting caught in traps, the one that was constantly picked up and moved back to the starting line. How was it that everyone who started at the same starting line as you managed to get so far ahead of you in such a short span of time?

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

You had always tried to put on a brave face, really you did. But the energy it took to maintain that brave face drained you completely. You gave it your all, and now, you had nothing else to give. You felt like you were drowning under the sea of your emotions. You were helpless against the waves of anxiety, anger, regret, and hopelessness that came crashing down on you again and again. It was true that in the past, you used to fight. You would fight back against the shackles of your emotions that relentlessly weighed you down. You would stretch your hands out towards what looked like the light, hoping to grasp onto something, someone, who could pull you out of the darkness. Now? You were exhausted, physically and mentally. Everything around you was a blur. You just felt so numb, so burnt out from constantly trying to push forward. So, you resigned yourself to your fate, and you let yourself be plunged back into the dark abyss in your mind. 

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Your life was monotonous and today felt no different from yesterday, and the day before that. Everyday felt like an out of body experience for you, like you were watching someone else living their life. Perhaps it was your mind trying to help you cope with the anxiety and depression you felt everyday. The constant pull between being afraid you were never good enough with not having the energy to do anything in the first place. You were exhausted. 

Although you were numb and trying to get through the motions of life, today seemed to be the day you reached your breaking point. You received yet another disappointing test result in class. You watched as others cheered and celebrated. Sinking deeper into your seat, you fought back tears. Stuffing your paper into your bag, you looked around to make sure no one saw you. You sucked in a deep breath to keep yourself from breaking down, slipped out of class and rushed home. 

When you arrived home, you immediately bolted to the bathroom to try to calm yourself down by taking a warm shower. As you stood under the water that was cascading down your body, you tried to take in deep breaths to calm your nerves. However, the deep breaths had the opposite effect and you were soon dry heaving. You felt like you were being pinned down under a weight. Your lungs felt like they were being constricted, and you couldn’t breathe. With tears streaming down your face, you hunched over, heaving and clawing at your chest to try to get some oxygen in. And that was the state you were in when Seungkwan found you. 

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

{{START HERE}}

After a long day of practice, Seungkwan was excited to go home. He could finally eat the food he had been craving all day, sink onto the couch, and best of all, cuddle you. He walked up the steps to your shared apartment and opened the door. He had expected to feel the vibrations of your footsteps. Normally, you bounded up to him excitedly to give him a peck on his cheek or lips (though you never wanted to hug him because he was all sweaty from work). To which he would then whine and complain that he deserved a proper kiss and hug. Instead, he was greeted with a dark and empty house. All he could hear was the vague sounds of water running in the bathroom. 

Confused, Seungkwan dropped his bags and went to the bathroom to try and find you. As he drew nearer to the bathroom, he could hear heaving and sputters from inside. His confusion quickly turned into worry. 

He rapped his knuckles against the bathroom door, asking, “Y/n? Honey? Are you inside? Are you okay?” When you didn’t answer, he tried again. Again, you didn’t answer him. 

Growing increasingly worried about you, he called out, “Honey? I’m coming in.”

Pushing open the door, he saw you hunched over in the shower trying to breathe. Panicked, Seungkwan immediately rushed into the shower without a care that his clothes would be soaked. He switched off the now cold shower, and scooted closer to you. He had been with you long enough to know what you had been going through. He knew you occasionally had panic attacks and had helped you through them before. Recognising the signs, he knew you were in the middle of having a panic attack and he didn’t want to startle you by suddenly holding onto you. It seemed that you barely registered that he was in the shower with you.

In the softest voice he could muster, Seungkwan said, “Honey, I’m going to hold you now, is that okay?”

Hearing his voice, you gasped, “Kwannie?”

“It’s me honey. I’m going to hold you.”

Taking your tiny nods as a sign of consent, Seungkwan wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer to him. He gathered your hair that was stuck to your face, and pushed it to your back. Then, he slowly rubbed your arm with his hand. The warmth of his hand helped to bring you some comfort, but your brain was still too hazy and your adrenaline still too high to calm down completely. 

Seeing you snap out of your panic attack slightly, Seungkwan continued his movements, and hummed a soft melody. The rhythmic motions of his hands and voice helped to ground you. Gulping in deep breaths of air, you concentrated on Seungkwan. The touch of his hands, the sounds of his voice, and the weight and warmth of him pressed against your bare body. After a while, your breathing pattern evened out. You felt completely spent. 

Although Seungkwan was relieved you could breathe normally again, he was still worried. He felt you shiver against him. He gently scooped you into his arms and brought you out of the shower. He sat you on the toilet bowl and wrapped you in a warm fluffy towel. After drying both of you off, and wrapping you in a robe, he guided you towards your bed. Seungkwan set you down on the bed and tucked you under the covers. Then, he quickly changed his clothes and got in next to you. 

Feeling the dip in the bed next to you, you grabbed onto Seungkwan’s arm. Rubbing your hands gently, Seungkwan asked gently, “do you feel better?”

You turned to hide your head in his bicep, mumbling a soft yes in response. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

At first, you shot your head up, shaking your head violently. But as you continued to feel Seungkwan rub your hands, his touch combined with the intense amount of worry you could see in his eyes broke you. 

You ended up spilling everything to him. All your anxieties, what you had been dealing with, how you felt, everything. In the middle of it, you started to tear once again. At least this time, you had Seungkwan who was ready to wipe your tears away. 

Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Seungkwan first pressed a kiss on your forehead. Then, he said, “Have I ever told you how proud I am of you? I cannot imagine what you have been feeling. All I know is that you are one of the strongest people I know. I admire your drive, your determination. Most of all I admire your spirit. You deal with all these issues and yet you never give up. Yes, you encounter setbacks, you get knocked down. But I always see you push forward regardless of how difficult everything gets. You are on your own path, one that you are forging for yourself every single day. You can’t compare your progress to other people. It gets frustrating, I understand. But I want you to know. No, I need you to know that you’re doing okay. Hang in there, stay strong. There is no need to rush, you’re doing fine. Just stay as you are. While it might not feel like it, stick with it, and you will achieve many things because honey, you are exactly where you need to be.”

Letting Seungkwan’s words sink in, you choked back a sob. His words alone helped to lift the weight that had been on your shoulders. You had been so caught up in what you hadn’t achieved, that you hadn’t taken the time to celebrate what you had. You came a long way, there was no doubt about that. And Seungkwan was more than happy to remind you of all your achievements. As you lay there in bed, with your head resting against Seungkwan’s shoulders, for the first time in a long while, you felt like everything might be okay.

Because finally, after swimming in the darkness alone for so long, there was someone who took your outstretched hands. Someone who was pulling you towards the light.

[thegenxpointofview]

3 reasons why the younger you are the brighter you work future looks. 

In this post we are going back to the workplace to give some of our younger reader’s encouragement. The last major work force shift was via globalization. Many of you are too young to remember a time when globalization WASN’T prevalent. When everything wasn’t made in china, as an example. I’m not here to say globalization is good or bad, but it’s an example of how work can change…

[ofstoriesandstardust]

forever winter (lt. jake “hangman” seresin)

a/n: i feel like we don’t talk about Jake post-suicide mission enough, so i wrote this. honestly this has been the most difficult thing i’ve ever written and i’m so glad to be done with it. i don't know why introspective pieces about Jake give me so much creative trouble but they do

summary: He knows, that on some level at least, he’s not good enough, no matter how much he pretends to be. So he puts on the facade, the “too good to be true” act, and hope no one sees through the cracks. The cracks though, are getting harder and harder to hide. Because he wasn’t good enough, was he? Sure, he saved them, but he still wasn’t enough. And maybe... maybe he’s not good enough to be here. With them. With the Navy. Maybe it’s time he start to figure out life outside the Navy, re-find and meet Jake, a person he hasn’t seen in so long, since the Hangman persona took over. 

Because Hangman’s the reason no one likes him, the reason no one wants him around. They say they do now, but all good things must come to an end. It’s only a matter of time. 

And then he meets her. 

inspired by taylor swift’s “forever winter” and you should definitely listen while you read it.

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist

warnings: kissing, insecurities, swearing, hurt/comfort, angst with a hopeful ending, panic attacks, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts (if you look very closely), PTSD, child abuse, alcohol, lowkey a character study, as in the relationship is not the main focus, my hometown knowledge pulled through for this one, the author believes men’s mental health needs more attention, gross abuse of italics, i did minimal research about resignation from the Navy

word count: 6,416

The lockers around him open and close as he reviews that day’s training over and over in his head, wondering where he went wrong. 

You’re not good enough. 

Someone claps him on the shoulder, startling him. He blinks the thoughts away, to see the face of his best friend, looking down at him worriedly. “You coming Hangman?” 

He takes a deep breath, running his palms down his flight suit. He still hasn’t changed, the only one. 

You’ll never change. 

“Nah, nah, I think I’m gonna pass on this one.” Coyote bites his lip, searching for an answer before Rooster’s cutting him off. 

“Hangman, you’ve hardly come out with us at all recently. Think you’re avoiding us or something. Decide you’re too good for all us mere mortals?” 

Bradshaw’s tone is teasing, meant to be a friendly jab, but Jake’s skin prickles at the teasing regardless. Coyote sighs, grip on his shoulder tightening. His touch burns him. 

Coyote deserves better, he knows it. Coyote, who’s been such a good friend, a loyal one. He can already see it, that one day he’ll realize that he’s become so accepted by the rest of the Daggers that- why did he ever really need Jake in the first place? 

It’s what Coyote deserves. He wants that for him honestly. To not be dragged down by Hangman anymore, to be confined to the box that puts him in. He hasn’t made it easy for him, he knows. 

So better for the break to just be clean, to stop coming around, to stop setting himself up for failure. Sure, they all seem to like him right now, but these things don’t last forever and he knows it’s only a matter of time before they go back to how they were before. He can’t ask Coyote to do that, can’t ask Coyote to go back to living on the island with him, to give up all these great friends he’s made. He doesn’t want to hope that these people might stay his friends, doesn’t know how to. 

So he won’t. He won’t let any of that happen. Won’t set himself up for failure once again. 

“Hangman?” 

It’s Bob’s voice this time. 

He swallows, looking up to meet the brown of eyes of the soft-spoken boy of their team. “You good? You zoned out there for a few minutes.” 

He stands up, ignoring the looks he’s getting from his team mates, making him want to run and hide. He wants to come up with a witty response, shake the concern, but his mouth feels dry, like it’s full of cotton and he’s blanking on the words that usually come so naturally to him. So instead, he just grabs his shower stuff, shutting the locker behind him, leaving his not-friends-just-coworkers confused and concerned in his wake. 

-

He isn’t sure why he pulled into the parking lot of the bowling alley and arcade, a good twenty minute drive from Miramar without traffic. It’s across town, in El Cajon, and honestly, he isn’t sure why this is where he ended up. He just knows that once he pulled out of the parking lot, drove off base, he picked one direction and drove. 

He ignores the fact that he waited for everyone to leave the locker room and even longer in the parking lot to make sure everyone else had gone. 

His grip tightens around the steering wheel and then untightens as he swallows, working up the nerve to go inside. He had no business being here, no friends to meet up with. 

No friends. 

He winces at the thought, letting out a sigh as he turns the ignition off, the car falling silent. He weighs his options, to go inside, to people watch, to eat shitty food, or to go back to an empty home where the silence rages louder than any noisy bowling alley. 

The decision is made in a split second and he’s pulling his seatbelt off as he gets out of the car, something fueling every step towards the doors. Pulling them open, he’s immediately greeted by the sounds of bowling balls hitting the lane, the machines returning balls, the music from 2012 only overshadowed by the loud cheers of different groups of friends. He lets his eyes map out the room as he walks towards the food area, stomach jumping at the greasy pizza he can see behind the counter. His eyes skim over the menu, unable to stomach the thought of any of this food. 

Never mind the fact that he’s struggled to keep down any food since the mission, unable to bring himself to eat in the first place. He turns, unsure of what to do with himself now that he’s in here. He has no business being here and suddenly it feels like it shows. Like everyone can read him, like everyone knows. 

His fingers are twitching as he slides down at a table near the back, looking out at all the lanes. It’s a Tuesday night, so the alley is half-full, maybe. The largest group happens to be at the closest to him, their laughter the loudest thing in the room. 

It makes some part of him ache, thinking about how badly he wants that. How badly he doesn’t deserve it. 

He thinks of his team, at the Hard Deck, probably a mirror image of the sight in front of him. 

They don’t need him.

He blinks, realizing someone’s appeared in front of him. She offers him a small smile as he clears his throat. “Hi.” She says, momentarily pulling one the hands that’s holding her bowling ball to wave at him. “Came to return this, can never pick the right size, but you seem... kind of upset.” 

She turns as someone from the group calls her name and she looks over. “Stop talking to strangers!” They shout, laughing. She rolls her eyes, ignoring them. 

“Sorry if I’m... being weird or like... creepy? You just seemed kind of upset and you’ve been sitting here all alone, for like, fifteen minutes.” 

He blinks, wondering if he’s really been lost in his thoughts for that long. He shakes his head, looking back up to the girl. “I’m good.” He says, forcing a smile. It hurts, makes him dizzy with the force he puts into making it believable. 

She tilts her head, clearly not quite believing him. “Well, if you, uh, wanted to join my friends and I, we wouldn’t mind. Unless, you’re waiting on someone, which is totally cool, I just- sorry.” She rushes out, cheeks going an unmistakeable red, even in the dark lighting of the bowling alley. 

His chest tightens at the thought of joining her group, the group that’s caught his eye since he got here. Something akin to hope flares in his chest as he realizes she doesn’t know him. 

They don’t know you. Not like the team does. 

This could be a chance to see if there’s still something in him left worth saving and so he finds himself nodding, standing up from the table. Her smile is bright as she turns, walking back to her table, him trailing a few steps behind. You turn to the group, introducing them all to him. One of her friends, Blaise (he’s pretty sure that’s what she introduced him as), smirks. 

“And what’s your friend’s name?” 

You pause, turning to him. “I guess I didn’t get your name.” 

“Jake.” He says, the words sounding strange on his tongue, so used to introducing himself by his callsign. 

They don’t need to know Hangman. 

You nod, introducing yourself to him. “Nice to meet you Jake.” 

One of the girls, Morgan, joins in with Blaise’s teasing. “So distracted by the attractive man you forgot to get a new bowling ball. It’s your turn, by the way.” 

You immediately blush, smiling sheepishly at him. Muttering an apology, you turn and jog back to exchange the ball and jog back in order to take your turn. He takes a few steps back from the group, watching you play as he sticks his hand in the pockets. 

It’s not good.

The ball barely stays in the lane before slipping into the gutter as your friends boo. You walk back to the group as Blaise gets up to take his own turn. 

“You’re not very good at this.” He says, the words slipping out of his mouth before he can stop them. 

He winces, waiting for you to immediately rescind the nice gesture that had been you inviting him over here. Instead, you just laugh, nodding your head. “Oh extraordinarily. But I got outvoted tonight.” 

“Outvoted?”

“Oh, we just sort take a vote to decide where we go on nights out. Or nights in, depending. But the consensus was the bowling alley, and I lost 5-to-1. I’d much rather be next door at the arcade. Consider myself a Skee-ball champ.”

“Oh yeah?” You nod, confirming. “Well, why don’t we go find out?” He says, some of his confidence returning to him. He isn’t sure where it’s coming from, haven’t seen it in weeks. Months, if he’s honest with himself. 

Not since Mitchell passed him up. 

You smile. “Alright, I’ll take you up on that.” You nudge Morgan, telling her where you’re going, and she nods as the two of you head over to the arcade. The arcade is even quieter than the bowling alley, leaving the three Skee-ball lanes completely open for the two of you. He stares at the machine as you wander off to get tokens, realizing he’s never played Skee-ball in his life. 

Not like there was all that much in his hometown, and the best escape from his Dad was drives to the next town over, which was only marginally better in that they had a movie theatre that played four movies instead of three. 

You reappear at his shoulder, counting through the tokens in the little cup. You hand them to him, setting the rest of your stuff off to the side. “So, how do you play?” He asks nervously, fighting to keep them hidden from his voice. He pretty sure he fails. “We didn’t have an arcade where I grew up.”

You don’t tease him, just explain the game to him as he feels the tokens grow sweaty in his palm. It’s simple enough, and if they let him fly the multi-million dollar planes for a living, he’s sure he can figure out an arcade game. 

May not be flying for much longer. 

He squeezes his eyes shut at the thought, willing himself to listen to you instead of his thoughts for once. 

“So where are you from Jake?” 

“Texas. You?”

“I’m a native San Diegan. ‘Bout as Californian as they get.” 

He nods. “You should meet my buddy Rooster. He embraces the fact that he’s also from San Diego. Annoys the shit out of our team.” 

“Rooster?” You ask curiously, scoring another set of points. You look up at him, raising an eyebrow as he cringes, realizing he’s let the man’s callsign slip, and then looking down at the ball still in his hand. He hasn’t even started playing. 

“Work for the Navy as a pilot. We use callsigns.” 

You nod. “Oh, gotcha. One of my family friend’s worked on the Midway before it was decommissioned and turned into a museum.” 

In all honesty, he hasn’t been to the Midway, even though he’s been stationed permanently in Miramar for the last six months. No point in driving out there to see the inside of a decommissioned aircraft carrier when he’s seen more of those than his own house in his life. 

You don’t say anything more. Usually, when girls learn he works for the Navy, they’re drooling at his feet, wanting him to tell them some epic story, usually trying to slip their way into his bed. Usually, it works. 

Jake tosses the ball up, finally deciding to start playing. 

-

He isn’t sure how long the two of you stand there playing, but it’s long enough that his legs begin to ache, even though he’s begging himself to ignore it, wanting to stand here for a few minutes more with you. It was easy. You never pushed, always just listening. Returning his competitive streak, you offered him kind smile and a loud laugh when he beat you. 

It was simple, not like the push-and-pull of his team. It was a simplicity he could see himself getting used to. 

Blaise appears at your shoulder and you turn to him as you pause your throw. “I know you’re enjoying your time with your new attractive man-friend, but we’re headed out and I am your ride.” Before Jake can open his mouth to say he could drive you, Blaise is giving him a once over and turning back to you. “And I’m not in the business of letting one of my friends wander off into a car to be murdered by a strange man she met in the bowling alley, so we’re going.” 

Jake turns, trying to remind himself that it’s not personal. Entirely reasonable. He wouldn’t let Phoenix or Halo wander off alone and get into a car with a random man they met in a bowling alley either. 

You sigh, tossing the last ball into the machine, the score flashing across the top. He isn’t sure if it’s his ears that are ringing or the machine as you take your purse from Blaise. “Give me a second. I’ll meet you at the car.” 

Blaise eyes you and then Jake. “Five minutes and then I’m coming back inside and you’re not getting a choice. I’m setting a timer as we speak.” You concede, waving him off. You sigh, turning back to him.

“Sorry, you date one shitty man and it’s game over.” You shake your head. “Anyways, it was really nice to meet you Jake.” He can’t bring himself to say anything, a lump forming his throat. Can hardly bring himself to breathe. “Um, if you wanted- I could give you my number? I’d love to see you again. Unless this is weird and you think I’m weird and you never want to see me again-”

“I’d love your number.” 

You smile through a deep breath, sliding your phone out of your back pocket to let him enter his number. He does, noting the time and swallowing as he saves the contact. “Well, it was nice to meet you Jake.” 

He nods, realizing he hasn’t thought about his shitty day since you walked over to his table two hours ago. “You as well.” 

-

He really doesn’t believe you’ll text him. It was just a passing thing, nothing more than a moment. Yet there your text is the very next morning, asking if he wants to join you for the farmers market in La Mesa on Saturday. His fingers fly over the keyboard, confirming he’ll meet you there, bright and early. 

It gives him something to look forward to, something outside the team he doesn’t really feel a part of. Maybe this is his chance to cut the cord, to walk away, before someone gets hurt. 

He feels himself being pulled back down to Earth by the thought of seeing you, of your texts, sending him pictures of your family dog and the sunset from your backyard. He reciprocates, sending back pictures of the dinner he cooked (because that’s the new thing he’s trying, cooking, as he tries to sort out his life) and the book he picked up after work that day, because that’s the other new thing he’s trying too. Anything to keep the thoughts at bay, from making a decision he can’t unmake. From doing something he’ll regret, even though right now it’s looking like the best thing. 

If the team notices a change in his behavior, they don’t say anything, though Rooster is always at his wing when they fly, Javy hovering. Jake hasn’t been to the Hard Deck in days and ignores the Dagger group chat as Saturday morning rolls around. 

The farmers market is the perfect balance of quiet and busy, bringing him a moment of calm in a stormy week. Stormy couple of months. The conversation is easy, you telling him about all the years you (and your siblings) went to preschool in the neighborhood as the two of you pick through old records and fresh fruit. He observes the obvious fact that the Saturday farmers market is part of your routine as you chat with the family that sells locally-grown honey. His heart clenches at the thought you letting him slip into your life and routine so easily. 

It’s as you’re picking through flowers for your house, asking for his opinion that he realizes this is too delicate, too fragile, to push the boundaries. 

When asked if you should get the sunflowers or wildflowers, he blurts out that he can’t date you. He isn’t sure why he says it aloud, although he knows that the words are too true. He’d break you and he’s done ruining things. Ruining people. 

You just nod and assure him that it’s okay, that you’re not looking to date either. That you’re always open to a new friend. He swallows and nods, telling you to get the wildflowers. That they suit you. 

Wild with a quiet beauty. 

The friendship grows from there, a lunch out at the Mexican restaurant just across the street from the market to a Sunday brunch turning into Taco Tuesday to drinks on Friday to another Saturday farmer’s market with lunch afterwards. He finds himself leaning more and more into your friendship, pulling farther and farther from his team mates. 

They don’t need him anyways. 

Nights away from the Hard Deck turn into weeks as he spends the time with you instead. Sometimes your friends join, sometimes it’s just the two of you. Your friends have warmed up to him, welcoming him into the group naturally. Even Blaise has settled in, joking with him, letting him into what has been a years-long friendship. 

He’s sure the Daggers don’t miss him around. Don’t miss his competitive streak, his arrogance, his jabbing and prodding and poking. 

They were better off without him.

Maybe Javy does, always feels the man hovering, waiting for Jake to talk about where he’s been disappearing off to when his feet hit the ground. But it’s been a while of this and even if Javy missed him at the beginning, he probably doesn’t miss him now. Too happy with his finally solid friendships to miss the one that had kept him out of the group in the first place. 

He’s better off without him. 

-

He knows what he has right now is fragile, delicate. One wrong move could send you spiraling out of his life with the door slamming shut behind you. He tries his best to let you go before he could hurt you, because that’s what he does. You don’t let him though, always encouraging him to stay, to talk about what’s bothering him. 

He hadn’t even mentioned that anything was wrong. 

He doesn’t mention that it’s been getting harder these days. That everyday he gets closer to walking away from the team, before someone can get hurt, before he can get someone killed. 

The only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.

He knows what he has right now is fragile, delicate. He can’t act on the feelings simmering just below the surface, can’t act on his desires. You’re too good. He’ll ruin you. It’s only a matter of time before you see what everyone else does, before you leave. No one stays.

-

It’s quiet the night he finally caves, fingers sliding over the call button before he can lose his nerve. 

He needs you. 

The phone rings once, and then twice, and- shit is it really three am? 

He goes to click the red button, to end the call, say it was an accident and sorry for bothering you when it clicks, signaling that you’ve answered. 

“Hello?” 

He doesn’t answer, suddenly forgetting how to breathe. 

“Jake? You okay?” 

He wants to answer, but he can’t remember how. 

Why had he called you again?

“Jake? You’re worrying me. Is everything okay?” 

He begins to pace again, crossing the shitty hardwood of his shitty rental, as he runs a hand up to pull through his blonde hair. Tugs at the roots, as he tries to remember what he wanted to say. “I can’t do this anymore.” He finds himself saying, because it’s true. 

He can’t lead this team, can’t be here, shouldn’t be in the Navy. He’s not good enough, never enough. 

If was enough, Mitchell would’ve chosen him as wingman. Mitchell would’ve trusted him. 

He hadn’t. Had trusted Rooster instead. 

If he’d been enough, he would’ve been faster. Wouldn’t have had so close of a shot, would’ve been there with plenty of time.

“Okay... Is it work stuff? You wanna talk about it?” Your voice is soft, kind, and he tugs at his hair harder. 

He’s going to ruin you. He’s sure of it.

Only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. 

“I’m sorry.” He says flatly instead. “I shouldn’t have- it’s late.” 

“It’s fine.” You say automatically. “I was up anyways. What’s going on? Do you want me to come over?” 

“No, I’m fine. I shouldn’t have called.” 

“Jake-” 

“Goodnight.” 

He ends the call before you can protest, struggling to breathe as he lets the phone fall from his grip as he tugs at his hair again. He barely hears the phone clatter to the floor over the ringing in his ears, his chest tightening. 

Panic attacks aren’t new to him lately, but this one brings him his knees as he realizes how badly he needs you. How much he doesn't want to let you go. How much he knows he has to. 

It isn’t fair to you, to ruin you. To hurt you. He needs to get out, before he can hurt anyone else. 

Only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.

-

He sits there, back pressed up against the foot of his bed as his ears never stop ringing. The night passes him by, dawn rolling in, bringing pink splashes through the cracks in his blinds. 

He should be getting ready for work when the phone rings again. He watches numbly as your name crosses his phone. He lets it ring once, and then twice. It rings a third time and then the screen flashes bright with a text. 

I’m worried. 

What’s going on? 

Jake, are you okay?

Jake, answer me. 

His chest aches at the hurt and worry he’s causing you. What he swore not to do. 

Fine. Just stressed about work. 

Never mind, didn’t mean to worry you. 

Sorry. 

He clicks the phone on do not disturb, pulling himself up from the ground. His limbs protest, his chest still feeling tight. He shouldn’t fly today, shouldn’t go into work. 

Shouldn’t go into work ever again. 

He swallows as he changes. 

It’s only a matter of time before the Navy agrees.

-

His skin feels taut as he goes through the motions of the day, running on no sleep and pure nerves. 

He started off his day right, slipping the paperwork into Admiral Simpson’s office and ending his pre-flight checks in Mitchell’s office, being asked what the hell is this?

I think you know exactly what that is sir. 

He’d fumbled the trainings for the day, leading to Phoenix yelling at him over the comms. All he could hear in his head, over and over again, was Javy’s disappointed sigh over the comms as he left another person behind. 

The water of the shower is scorching his skin as it falls over him, his head resting against the tile. Distantly, he can hear his teammates, chatting amongst themselves. His fingers twitch as he thinks about calling you, asking you to come over. He stretches them out as he thinks about what it would like to come home to you, pull you close to him, and just rest.

His chest aches at the thought of all that he can’t have. 

He turns the shower off, pulling himself out of his daze as he walks to his locker. He hears the door to the locker room slam open as he pulls his pants on but he doesn’t turn. It catches his attention when his body is being shoved against the locker, causing their team mates to protest and stand up, moving to stand between the two of them. 

It’s Bradshaw.

“What the hell man? I thought we were a team.”

Jake raises an eyebrow, ignoring the way his shoulder is protesting at the sudden collision against the metal lockers. “What are you on about?” 

Bradshaw, Rooster, is seething. “You know exactly what I’m on about.” 

He rolls his eyes, pushing himself off the locker and swatting Payback’s hand away. “If you’re really that mad about training today, get over it.” 

Rooster turns to Coyote, who’s watching the two of them warily. “Did you know?”

“Know what?” Hangman almost grimaces as he turns back around, opening the locker up to pull his shirt over his head. 

Time’s up. Secret’s out. 

“Seresin’s leaving us.” 

He forces himself to chance a glance at Coyote, who looks nothing short of betrayed. 

“What, decide you’re too good for our team?” Fanboy teases, but he can hear the hurt underneath the joke all the same. 

“This why you haven’t been hanging out with us?” Omaha asks, settling on the bench. 

“You know, my world does not revolve around me going to the bar with you people and listening to Bradshaw play the same shitty song from the ‘80s and playing the same game of pool over and over again. I’ve got better things to do with my time.” 

He’s being cruel now, he knows it. Pulling at any frayed thread, to make the whole thing come unraveling. To say, look it was never meant to work in the first place. 

Rooster takes a step back from him. “C’mon man, I thought we were friends.” 

“Don’t kid yourself Bradshaw. How do you even know anyways?” 

“Mav told me.”

He almost scoffs. “Of course he did.”

“He wants you to stay.”

He wants to roll his eyes and turn away. “That’s not his decision. Nor is it yours.”

“Hangman-”

“You know, it’s really none of your business whether or not I want to stay in the Navy. Nobody’s business where I go after I leave here. We’re not friends.” He snaps, not missing the way Coyote’s body language changes from defeated to guarded.

“So much for all those years we haven’t been friends Seresin.” Coyote mutters, turning away from him. 

His heart cracks at that, soul stinging in the way he’d let Hangman take over, to push these people away. “Coyote-”

“Just forget it Bagman.” Bob says, his own hurt coloring the words as his arm slings over Coyote’s shoulder as the two of them turns towards the door. Rooster shoots him one last look before he’s grabbing his bag, following them out the door. 

He can do little but watch the way the team filters out of the locker room, all tossing him looks of hurt and anger as they leave for the day. Finally, he sinks down, head in his hands as he thinks about what he’s done. 

The only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. 

-

You’re waiting for him as he pulls into his driveway, sitting on his front porch. He sighs as he slips out of his truck, shutting the door behind him. 

He doesn’t want to do this with you now. Not today. Not after he sat in Mitchell’s office, being told he couldn’t resign without a valid reason. Couldn’t look the man in the eye all day after the conversation that morning. He still wasn’t sure how the paperwork had ended up on his desk so quickly, in matter of thirty minutes or less, but the day had made him feel hopeless. 

There was no out. Nothing left for him. 

The only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.

He wordlessly unlocks the front door, leaving it open behind him for you as he walks towards the kitchen, pulling the whiskey out of the cabinet. He hears the front door shut as he knocks the liquid back, gritting his teeth at the burn. He hasn’t medicated the pain away with alcohol since you came into his life but he’s feeling his control slip after the day he’s had.

“Jake.” You say, appearing next to him. He pours himself another shot, but you pry his fingers off the glass before he can down it. He lets you, reveling in your soft touch. 

Won’t get that for much longer. 

“Jake, you scared me last night.”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.” His words are cold, detached, as he wills himself to do this one last thing. 

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re friends. We-” 

“You should leave.”

You jerk back, fingers leaving his own as if they had burned you. “What?”

“You heard me.” His voice doesn’t feel like it’s his own, floating somewhere above him as some part of desperately begs him to stop. 

“Jake, something’s clearly wrong. I’m not leaving you.” 

“Well, I don’t want you here.” 

“Well, too fucking bad because you’re my friend and I want to be here for you.” 

He cautiously raises his eyes to meet your own. 

You want to stay? For him?

Where would he even start though?

I tried to resign from the Navy today?

My Dad used to hit me?

One of my not friends, co-worker at best, almost died because I wasn’t fast enough?

If I stay, someone’s gonna get killed because of me?

“I don’t know what to say.” He whispers and you nod. 

“That’s okay.” You say softly, hand returning to his. “Why don’t we go sit down? You don’t have to talk, but let’s just sit.” He nods, letting you guide him to the couch. He thinks he can count on one hand all the times he’s sat on the piece of furniture. You don’t let go of him as you both sit. 

He can’t meet your eye, can’t begin to tell you the truth. If you knew, you’d run. 

Maybe that’d be best. 

“You should go. I’ll only hurt you.” He says quietly, turning away from you. 

“Jake.” 

“’M not good. I- I hurt people. I ruin them. I- You need to leave.” His voice is begging now, pleading with you to see reason. 

“Jake, look at me.” You say softly. “You don’t ruin people. You’re so good, so so good. I can’t believe you don’t see it.” 

“I tried to- I need to-”

The words are trapped in his chest and it feels like he’s choking. Like if he speaks the words, he’ll be giving him the rope to hang himself with. 

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk. It’s alright.” 

So he swallows, nods, and sits there. Allows himself to let you touch him. To rub your thumb over his shoulder blade as his head falls back against the couch.

It’s some time again before you speak.

“One of my friends in college was in the Marines.” You say quietly. “Not the same thing as the Navy, I know, but still. He wouldn’t talk about it, even if he was asked. I don’t know if he ever learned to talk about it.” He turns to look at you, even as your movements don’t cease. “We had lost touch after we graduated but-” You shift, shaking your head. “Something I’ve been thinking about lately. You don’t talk to me much about your work. ” 

He swallows, watching you as you watch him. You don’t say anything more and he realizes you’re opening the door for him to talk about it. About all of it. 

“There was this mission.” He feels himself begin to say, voice almost detached from him. He can’t bring himself to look away from you. “Almost a year ago now. Reason I got stationed out here. We- we weren’t meant to come home. One of my fr- coworkers almost died.” You just wait, listening, and he takes that as encouragement to continue. You haven’t run away yet. “He said something, about how the only place I’ll lead anyone is an early grave. Can’t help but feel like he’s right.” 

Your touch burns him, eyes staring into his soul as he wrestles with himself to lay it all bare in front of you. He pulls away, standing up to pace the small living room. You let him, simply just watching him. 

“I’m going to get them killed. There’s a reason I wasn’t selected to fly the mission. I’m- I’m gonna hurt them, gonna get someone killed. I shouldn’t be there. I’m not good enough and it’s going to cost someone their life.” 

His hands reach up to his hair, going to tug at it again, the familiar feeling of trying to ground himself as everything spins out of his control. 

“I- I feel out of control all the time. I can’t look them in the eye. I feel like I can’t breathe up there, that the only time I’m safe is on the ground. They don’t need me anyways.” 

He chances a glance back to you and every part of your face is screaming pitypitypity

He doesn’t need your pity. 

“I wanted to resign from the Navy. My CO told me no.” 

You finally break your silence, shifting up. “I’m sorry, he told you no?” 

He waves you off, starting a new round of pacing. “He needs a valid reason.”

“A valid reason? What’s more valid than I want to-?”

“Leaving is complicated and there’s a lot of paperwork, you have to have all these forms and a letter-”

“That a big decision, Jake.” You breath out, interrupting his explanation, moving to the end of the couch, looking like you might walk over to him. He hopes you don’t, despite how badly he wants to be next to you. “Are you sure of this?” 

He pauses, feeling the tears sting his eyes. 

He will do anything to not break right now. Not in front of you. 

Bitterly, he can hear his Dad in the back of his head, reminding him how weak he is. 

Real men don’t cry.

“I just don’t know what else to do.” He whispers, afraid of the words he’s speaking into the night. “I just need it all to stop.” 

That’s what propels you off the couch as you walk over to him, wrapping your arms around him. The feeling of you holding him close makes him buckle as his resolve cracks and crumbles, the tears taking over as his knees sink to the floor. His sobs rack his body as he reaches up to clutch tightly at your shirt. You run your fingers through his hair as you try to soothe him. 

“Jake, I-” You swallow, your hand stilling in his hair. 

Here it comes. When you tell him this is too much, that you didn't sign up for this, that he should never contact you again-

You kneel to be eye-level with him, pulling his face into your hands. “Jake, I am so sorry. You deserve so much better than that. And I wish there was something more I could do for you, more for me to say. All I can say is that it’s going to get better. Things will always get better and I will be here to help you. I’ll always be here.” 

He swallows, wanting so badly to believe your words. He almost does, if he squeezes his eyes shut and forces his Dad’s words out of his brain. “I want to believe you. I don’t know how.” 

“That’s okay. I’m here, Jake. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“You can’t fix me. You can’t make me better.”

The words are blunt, cruel. You don’t flinch away or move back. 

“I don’t want to.” You move closer to him. “I just want to help you. Let me help you.” 

Without thinking, he surges forward, kissing you before he can think about the consequences of his actions. He knows in the half-second before you freeze that he’s fucked up. 

You pull away, ducking your head as your bottom lip catches between your teeth. Neither of you say anything as your chests heave with what just happened, unable to meet the other’s eyes. Your hands haven’t left his face as you swallow, finally pulling up to look at him. 

“Jake-” 

He shakes his head, pulling out of your grasp to stand again. “Don’t. Don’t. Please don’t. I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry.” 

You stand too, sighing. “Jake, please-”

“Just go.” His voice wavers, cracking, a reflection of how he feels on the inside. 

“Jake, this isn’t- Now’s not a good time-”

“Don’t make excuses. You don’t return my feelings and that fine. Just- get out, please.” His back is still turned from you as he waits for your footsteps to signal that you’re going to leave, just like everyone else. He succeeded in driving you away. 

He does hear your footsteps but they don’t leave through his front door. No, there you are, figure blurry in front of him through the tears he’s been trying to suppress. 

“Jake.” You softly, and he feels his lip tremble as he wraps his arms around himself, wanting to make himself small. “It’s not that I don’t return your feelings and I’m not saying never, but- you’re going through a lot right now. You need a friend, not a new relationship, and I’m happy to be here in whatever capacity I can be for you. You deserve the world Jake Seresin and I’ll be here no matter what.” 

Your hands reach to his face and he allows his hands to unwrap from around his body, pulling you close to him. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he takes a shaky breath. “Don’t leave.” The words are muffled against your skin. “Please.” The words are like a prayer as he grips you ever so tighter. 

“Never. Believe me Jake, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

For the first time in months, he takes what feels like his real breath, feeling like he isn’t drowning under the waves of his own mind. 

For the first time in months, he allows himself to consider that things might actually turn out okay. 

[rubyvroom]

Rules for When You Have a Cool Manager

As someone who has been described as “one of the good ones” I feel obligated to share this with you. 

Your Manager Is Not Your Friend. For a multitude of reasons. Even if you like them. Even if they like you. This is not a balanced relationship. This is a professional relationship that can be based in trust and respect but it can never have the give and take of a friendship while one of you has hiring and firing power over the other. 

Your Manager is Not Your Friend Part 2. I have people working under me who have been through some shit. What they probably don’t know is that I have been through some of the same shit myself. They don’t know this because I don’t tell them about my personal life. I don’t tell them about my mental illness, I don’t tell them about family issues or money struggles or health problems. I do not share these things at work. It’s not my role as the manager to put my issues on my team. I’m there to support them. 

Your Manager Is (Probably) Not The Ultimate Power In Your Workplace. It’s great if your manager has your back. But even your manager has a boss and we all have HR to deal with. And what most people don’t understand is, a lot of times your manager’s input into what you get paid is real, real limited. Often the company dictates what each role should be paid, and when you can promote, and what kind of raises you can give. If someone asks me explicitly for a raise most of the time I simply can’t do anything about it, because it’s not up to me. It sounds like bullshit when I say I have to take it back to Senior Management, but it’s the truth. 

Do Not Abuse Your Manager’s Goodwill. This is the big one, and the one that is hardest for me to explain to my own team.  I’m gonna be real honest here. I will let you get away with a lot. I will take excuses I know are bullshit. I will try to get you the holiday bonuses and the cash awards and the perks because let’s face it, the company can afford it and I don’t give a shit about the shareholders. I think we all deserve to get paid more. I don’t care if you show up at work at 9am and work the exact complete 8 hours a day as long as you are getting your work done and doing a good job. BUT I can’t tell people this shit, and not just because I don’t want to get in trouble. There’s always the one person who’s gonna ruin it for everyone else. They’ll take my willingness to avert my eyes once in awhile and use it for shenanigans. They’ll push it to the point where they aren’t doing the work and just as importantly, to the point where they get caught and then I have to crack down on everyone else and I hate doing that! I give people a break because I care about the people on my team, but I’m not stupid and I’m not a sucker. Don’t push your luck.  

Don’t Tell Your Manager Incriminating Shit. Come on, man. Don’t do it.

Do Tell Your Manager When You’re Struggling. Sometimes I can do something to make things easier. I can reduce your workload, I can give you better resources to do your job, I can go yell at somebody if they’re being a dick to you. What I can’t do is read minds. So if you get to the point where you’re ready to resign and I had no idea you were having trouble, who’s fault is that? I know people don’t want to make themselves look bad in front of the boss, but the fact is that everyone goes through hard times, everyone has personal problems sometimes, and everyone can burn out. We can adjust, make some changes, and things can be better. But only if you tell me.

[kingsanddragonsandgods]

Criston C deserved better 😔

Ok, do me a favor, just for half a minute use your imagination and gender swap Criston and Rhaenyra, just for one moment think this is a Cristina and Rhaenor situation: he have this servant that is by his side nearly 24/7, she's there to cater for his needs, a companion, a protector, a ear to hear you when no one else will, she's attractive, kind and supportive because he changed her life, he had so much 'power' that he was able to change someone's whole life just with half a dozen words. now, one late night, out of the blue, because he needs validation after being rejected by his aunt, he decides that:oh, Cristina is pretty attractive, and I am feeling in the mood, I need proof that there is nothing wrong with me. So, ofc, he coerces Cristina to have sex with him, he acts playfully, locks the door, and because a girl never means 'no' when she's saying no, he starts to take her clothes off. Cristina resigns herself, what can she do?! She finds him kinda cute, she's grateful to him for changing his life, right?! So, why not?! So Cristina and Rhaenor have sex! Great! It was good enough that Rhaenor wants to keep this arrangement, even though after his father found out about the whole ordeal with his aunt, he's now demanding Rhaenor to marry someone else. It's a no brainer, he can marry some lady of his father's choice and continue to fuck Cristina on the side, this is the perfect solution, right?! After all he needs his pleasure and his joy. But Cristina is not feeling it, she feels ashamed for what they did, she broke her vows, she stained her honor, and that was all she had, there is no going back and erasing what happened, so there is another solution: Rhaenor is always complaining about the 'burden' of his inheritance, this is not something he truly desires, right?! So they could run away and marry, it would restore her honor, they would be free to see the world and live adventuresly, something Rhaenor always talks about. The thing is: when she talks to Rhaenor he just laughs it off, he was never serious when he complained, not truly, why would he leave his comfortable life, where he will one day be king, for her?! (In that moment Cristina feels completely worthless, she would never be good enough) But, oh, wait, Cristina can be his mistress, things don't need to change just because he's getting married, he's going to say sacred vows to his wife for the realm to see, but he doesn't truly mean it, he's allowed to 'continue to feast where he sees fit'.

Now, tell me this does not look bad. Honestly, why should it be okay for a woman to do something a man would be criticized for? Why is it okay for a woman to coerce someone in a power imbalanced relationship to have sex?

I honestly don't blame Criston for his deep aversion to Rhaenyra, that's his aggressor, the person that made him feel impotent and worthless, the reason for the stain in his honor. This kind of trauma can fuck up a person's mental health, and is worse when you spend years repressing until you snap.

[castawavy]

November Save MEGA summary (part 2)

before / next

hope you all enjoyed the previous summary, it was a nice walk down memory lane for me 😁❤ anyways let's just jump into the next one

so basically overall steve was really HATING working at Hogan's but June was just doing really well in general (enough to be the main earner in the household essentially so steve was able to quit his job)

june attempted to wingwoman raj again because things didnt really work out with kamala... LMAO

on friday she took a day off and decided to go for a job interview to join an in-house legal team

and very quickly she learned shed got the job 😁🤸‍♀️💖

on monday she let her manager Margot know she was resigning and officially handed in her resignation to the boss, boss, Jared. they were all super happy for her, and june was grateful to have had a good time working with them all

THEN, after that she visited her mom for awhile (who lives in Brindleton Bay, and caught up with her without steve or the kids)

that same weekend it was adelaide's birthday and they threw her a modest party (they are always paycheck to paycheck kinda ngl but june's recent job change / promotion means that things are getting better

bonus shot of the kids being EXTRA cute (they get on really well) 💖

very VERY soon after that, june attended a conference in Tartosa with her new team, which was a great chance to get to know everyone...

UNFORTUNATELY things got a bit flirty at the dinner 🌹😢 and the brunette guy behind june flirted with June and she did it back 😵 and yeah... nothing else happened but YIKES. my interpretation of june is honestly that she got a taste of what her life could have been like, without steve... the kids... bills etc, and she got a bit carried away by the glitz and glam of it all 🤷‍♀️ (sorry I do like my sims to have flaws, & like everyone else june is not perfect </3), but yeah as I said nothing else happened and june immedietaly felt AWFUL about it as she should (shes a loyal trait sim) 😘 but she did look stunning that night

when she got home it was extra bad as well because she had to face steve (and the kids) and it made he realise how lucky she had it, cuz steve also got her some champagne to celebrate her new job ☠😂

so... june confessed and told steve about what happened, and ngl even I was suprised he took it so well and was understanding + I think he appreciated she told him right away

also right after he mentioned marriage??? I think the two of them needed to talk about it cuz june always saw herself getting married I think and steve hadnt really considered it...

BUT YEAH drama / crisis averted AHAHAH sorry this seems really fast but I promise it had been brewing for some time - I think out of the two of them, unfortunately june is just a little bit more insecure than steve, because she has set so many expectations on herself & her mother growing up was very strict with her </3 overall I know she invisioned her life going differently, but when faced with that actual opportunity she didnt take it 😘❤🤸‍♀️

bonus picture of steve because we havent seen him for awhile now and hes gotten a lot healthier recently / working on himself and his mental health a bit (not quit smoking yet though) also raj came over and june seemed more like his best friend than steve because they were joking around so much 😂😂😂

also omg then adie had a bear phase...

😁 and that's a wrap for this summary but PHEW a lot of focus on june this time (I always love giving my sims really complex spouses)

before / next