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captainsimagines · 3 years

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To Topple A Giant || Chapter One

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 1 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Trope: ‘Enemies to Lovers’; mainly angst, mutual pining, fluff, and eventual smut

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.

Word Count: 4000+

A/N: Ooo, let’s hope this does numbers! I love myself some ‘enemies to lovers’ tropes. It’s been a while since I’ve written Steve fanfics. :)

Wakanda, 2018, 4:04 pm.

The flash of bright white light temporarily blinded you, sending you back to the ground and cupping your face in self-defense. But as quickly as the initial crack, it was over. Eerily silent and loud at the same time. The birds whistled their same tune, some higher-pitched than others. The wind seemed to blow louder, rustling the leaves from the trees and landing all around you and your teammates.

“Thor?”

You lifted your head at the sound of Steve’s voice and checked if the coast was clear. All that remained of the evil was a new blood-stained hammer - a hammer that Thor was watching intensely, as if the answer lay hidden there. It was the only remnant left and your mind was already wondering how to use it to bring that evil back to finish a fair fight.

“Where’d he go?”

The birds stopped singing.

“Steve?”

You whipped your head around at the sound of Bucky’s confused voice, watching as one of your best friends dropped his gun and looked up at Steve as his hands began to disappear. In a matter of seconds, Bucky - or what became of him - fell to the dirt below. No one spoke, and you watched as Steve tried to control his breathing as he took a knee to place his shaking hand over his best friend’s ashes. A life and mind brought out of the darkness to finally amend those knots he had twisted, now ceasing to exist. In the distance you could hear Okoye shout in turmoil and Rocket begin begging.

“What’s happening?” you finally choked out, turning just in time to see Wanda lift her head to the sky, defeated and out of will, and succumb to the same fate. “No!”

You ran and fell beside Vision’s now gray and decaying body, reaching over and palming through Wanda’s ashes. You rubbed them between your fingers, inspecting them, and brought your hand to your chest. The pit of your stomach churned as you sat there, immobile and numb.

“Sam!”

So many names were being called but soon everyone who remained fell silent. The trees were still guiding the wind, leaves falling into the ashes of your friends, a sign of a new and unwanted chapter. You felt Steve drop beside you, turning Vision around to see the damage to his body. You winced when you saw the gaping hole in his forehead.

“What is this? What’s happening?”

Natasha ran to where you were seated, hand over her stomach as if she was ready to vomit. And once she took one look at Vision, that’s exactly what she did.

You removed your hands from your chest to look at them, the ashes still there and practically mocking you into finally believing this as reality. “Did we just lose?”

Steve was moments away from a full-blown panic attack. He simply looked up at the trees, watching the way the sunlight still burst through with no disruption. “Oh god.”

You caught Steve as he tipped his upper body toward you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding onto something real. He had to believe you were real. Anyone. And you were the closest person to him. You shut your eyes and held him, running your hands through his hair, wincing when you realized Wanda’s ashes were now on him.

You held him tight, praying to any God you chose to believe in at that moment, that Steve wouldn’t disappear too.

Unknown Location, 2025, 1:07 pm.

The air was incredibly musty, as if each person who struggled for breath in this room at one point or another left a piece of their soul floating in search of last minute penance for their sins. And the man in front of you was no different, choking on the purple blood that dripped down his neck and onto his now unbuttoned, white dress shirt. His chest was rising and falling, his breathing becoming less labored with each blink of the eye. His hands were tied behind his back and to the chair he sat on, a flickering light in the corner of the dark, concrete room somehow mocking this man’s last remaining seconds of life.

“I’m not an evil person,” you started, kicking one of the legs of the chair to startle the poor man. But your guilt was minimal - it’s not like you wanted to do this - but knowing this man did exactly what everyone said he did, hands red and dripping with young blood, you selfishly took pleasure knowing this man would look at you when he died. “It’s just my job as third in command.”

You gave the man a small smile as you bent down to his level, head hanging in shame, slow breaths now pausing in between each intake. You looked to the other party in the room, handing them the gun in your holster, and walked out the room as the sound of two gunshots rang out.

Left twist. Sting. Breathe.

You washed away any smell from that godforsaken room, giving extra attention to the roots of your hair and under your fingertips.

Scrub. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

The crack of your neck frightened even you, and you stood under the burning shower for a few more minutes before deciding the sting was enough. You changed into the most comfortable sweats you owned, surprisingly calm for such a gruesome morning you had, and took your time with your skin care routine.

Circle. Wash. Dry.

Soft music played in the overhead speakers, the classical sounds vibrating from one wall to another and surrounding you with something tranquil - something still. There was nothing to expect from such a sound, only the next repeated chorus, no words or drops - just tranquility. You could barely hear yourself breathe but you were at peace - or mostly - and ready to sooth your growing headache behind the eyeballs with more than just music. You slipped on a pair of comfy, forest green socks and bent them at the ankle to achieve an even fluffier look. You applied your favorite perfume, lotioned up your hands, and donned your tacky friendship bracelet.

One for you. One for Bucky. One for Peter. And one for Wanda.

You hummed the whole way to the common room, waving at the morning staff as they fixed lightbulbs, covered holes in the walls, and swept the floors. One muffin and a cup of coffee later, you were resting with your head in Wanda’s lap as she filled your thoughts with your chosen sceneries.

“I can make you see anything you have already seen, so yes.”

“A miniature golf course, Peter’s high school graduation, a field of all kinds of flowers, and Natasha.”

Wanda stilled her floating hand, smile faltering for a moment before she nodded. “Okay… okay, I can do that.”

They were images well-drawn out, slow and steady to make the atmosphere similar to when you were actually there. They seemed to float across your vision, comfortable in their positions and radiating the same warmth you had felt the first time around. A moving picture. Wanda really had excellent control of this.

“I won!” Sam leapt into the air, pointing at a disgruntled Bucky, who stepped off to the side to not throw Sam over his own head. “I won!”

“How is it possible for you to get a hole-in-one each fucking turn?” Bucky groaned, moping in Wanda’s shoulder as she held him and struggled to keep herself standing from her own intense laughs.

“I think we got a cheater on the loose,” Steve grinned, pointing at the ring Sam was trying to discreetly tuck back into his pocket. A friendly gift from T’Challa, no doubt.

“Nuh-uh, give me the fucking proof, Wilson!” Bucky roared, wrapping his arm around Sam’s neck and tugging him forward. “I will not admit defeat if there was foul play involved!”

Sam escaped the hold, climbing onto the rock located to the side of the flag and a sign that read ‘do not climb on rocks’.

“It just helped me calculate all things geometry, Barnes. We’re good.”

Bucky looked as if he was going to leap on him again, but before he could even finish that thought, Sam slipped on the wet surface and plummeted into the rushing little river.

Laughter erupted and did not cease until you were escorted out of the fairgrounds by four security guards.

A flick of Wanda’s wrist and a new memory began forming, colors blending like an oil painting, dried and covered with a glossy varnish, ready to hang.

“Don’t trip on your way up, kid.”

Peter swatted Steve in the side as the super soldier left the room, leaving Peter alone in front of the full-length mirror. He adjusted his tie and tried to lay that pesky dangling strand of hair over the top of his head.

You got up from the couch and made your way over, wrapping your arms around Peter and resting your chin on his shoulder. “You’ll do great. We’re all so proud.”

“It’s just high school…”

You frowned and turned him to face you. “No, you should already be in your second year of college. This is seven years in the making. We are all so proud.”

Peter could feel the slight burn at the corner of his eyes but he swallowed it down, giving you a small smile and a hug.

“And can you trip? Don’t you stick to all surfaces?”

Peter scoffed and pushed you away, his tiny smile never faltering.

You could feel Wanda shift her legs underneath you, searching for the most comfortable position as she continued her work. You sighed, already feeling the therapeutic effects.

“They’re all so pretty!” you yelled cheerfully, running through the field with your arms extended to the sky. Bucky and Steve followed close behind, leaning down every so often to pluck the flower of their choosing and adding to the bouquet in their hand.

“Which did Tony prefer?” Steve asked, snapping you from your pollen-filled, ecstatic state.

“Aesthetic beauty, Rogers! Natasha was a sucker for anything pink and sunflowers.”

Bucky nodded, seeming to take that information into consideration as he plucked the yellow and pink flowers only. Steve chose the most healthy looking flowers, his hand struggling to hold them together as he reached the two dozen mark.

“I think we’re good. These are good.”

You smiled at both super soldiers and admired their bouquets, leaning over to sniff their masterpieces. “Awesome.”

Wanda sighed as she neared your last vision, debating on showing you your chosen moment instead of another one. This moment always hurt Wanda as she wasn’t there to witness it, but it was special to you. There were so many others to choose from, but you insisted this was the one you always wanted to see. And Wanda was always hesitant at first - but when she lifted her hand slowly and dropped the memory back into the front of your brain, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Are we ready?”

Everyone was practically bouncing on their heels, both excited and terrified. Time travel was new to humanity and you were to be one of the first to experience such a thrill. You were going to get everyone back.

You squeezed Natasha’s hand once more before you walked back over to Thor and Rocket. You all nodded to each other, saying ‘goodbye’ and ‘good luck’ with your childlike expressions.

“See you in a minute,” Natasha grinned, her cheeks reddening with a friendly blush as she looked over at Steve. Her hair was pulled back into a braid, a braid you had helped her make, and she was carrying an extra pair of socks in case of a long hike.

Then a blast of color surrounded your body and the smell of peaches as you landed on Asgard filled your overstimulated senses.

You opened your eyes and smiled up at Wanda. You didn’t want to see old memories with your friend, but the most recent. It was like you were grasping onto that last memory of her, not wanting to change anything about her last smile, her last laugh, her last shred of existence. It was oddly calming, and so you hoped Wanda would understand.

You thanked her again and proceeded to the kitchen. It was bigger than the one before, the soft forest green color of the walls a nice contrast from the blue ones before. You laughed to yourself and your conscience as you silently thanked the explosion that obliterated the horrid blue walls, quickly backtracking at your dumb thoughts. Still, you chose to joke about everything that happened before to avoid falling deeper into yourself. The kettle started howling, smoke circling around the tip. You poured your tea, dropped two cubes of sugar in, and added a little milk.

It was quite bizarre how quickly you could bounce back from the morning you had. A very bloody, order-filled morning. When one order was given, you had to come up with a plan on how to not disregard the other. You had to listen to Fury and your father, gaining a few feet on each side without toppling the other. Still, it took a physical toll on you. But with Wanda’s help in easing your mind and the very sweet tea you nursed, your emotional baggage was pretty minimal. It sometimes scared you how easy it all was.

Your morning carried on quietly as you sat on the concrete curb, happily sipping your tea in your sweatpants. You could hear Sam and Scott arguing about something a few feet away from you and Bucky taking his afternoon jog around the track. Quite distracted, the sudden ‘thwip’ and superhero landing of a certain teenager scared you enough to spill a little of your tea.

“Goddamn, dude!” you whined, looking up at Peter as he tried to control his laughter.

“I’m sorry, I thought you saw me!”

“Excuse me for being distracted by the hot super soldier just over there,” you joked, pointing over at Bucky.

Peter rolled his eyes and sat next to you, immediately reaching over to take the tea from you and take a sip himself. You let him, as you had no other choice, rolling your eyes anyway.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had classes today?”

Peter handed back your cup, “Nah, I’ve only got classes every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Ugh, that sounds great. I remember I scheduled my classes for every day of the week just to have more units,” you sighed, taking another sip of tea.

“Stupid.”

You pushed Peter’s shoulder playfully, both your laughter catching the attention of Sam and Scott. But as quickly as you had distracted them, they ignored you and went back to bickering.

“I’m just here to see my friends, sue me!”

“Nope, you’re always welcome,” you smiled, holding out your wrist and bumping your bracelet with his. “How was your week otherwise?”

“Eh, nothing major. Just trying to navigate the world now that they know who's behind the mask.”

You gave Peter a look of sympathy, still mad at the sudden manipulation of the kid after such traumatic events. You had promised him you would protect him by any means possible, as did the rest of the team, but he seemed to be navigating the situation just fine. Staying away from reporters, scheduling his classes during the most isolated gaps of the day, and signing dozens of forms that promised to protect him, give him royalties, etc. After you had brought everyone back, it seemed the least the new management/orders could provide for you all.

“We all have our days,” you muttered, handing your tea back to Peter. You two sat there for a while longer, enjoying the slight breeze and taste of sugar.

An agent rounded the corner and spotted you, jogging up and handing you a yellow folder that was sealed in plastic. “For you, from Fury, from whoever before that.”

“Um, thank you?” you said as the agent walked away. You inspected the folder, turning it over in your hands and playing with the thin plastic.

You lifted it up to Peter’s face, “Here, smell it and tell me if there’s poison.”

Peter scoffed, “I can’t do that!”

“Don’t you lie to me.”

Peter muttered to himself as he took the folder from you, sniffing it awkwardly. “Smells like paper, dude.”

“Cool, thanks.”

You ripped the plastic off and unhooked the folder, dropping the single item onto your lap. Peter just sipped your tea and watched you open it.

It was another envelope, but this one was white with custom-printed indents that swirled across the front and a big, red blob of wax smushed- with your initials- sealing it. You ripped it open and pulled the invitation from inside. You must have read it a thousand times, eyes rapidly scanning the small page with secret meanings.

“You got invited to a wedding?” Peter asked, taking it from you and reading it himself.

“Yeah, but this is so much more than that,” you said, snatching it back and standing up from the curb. You quickly went back into the compound, searching for the one person who needed to read it also.

You seemed to find everyone before you found the super soldier who wasn’t out for a jog, a line of somewhat concerned superheroes following behind you from room to room. Eager minds and yet, inflexible rib cages full of anxiety and worry, all ready (and quite not) to tackle the new evils of this new world. And whether they followed you blindly or with functioning minds, they were prepared.

With the rest of the team behind you, you burst through the second floor with the invitation held over your head. Steve stopped mid-bite, milk dripping from his bottom lip as he stared at everyone in confusion. “Um…”

“It’s time-” you started, pulling the stool from next to him and sitting down.

“Time for what?” Steve interrupted, his mouth still full of cereal.

“Time for this,” you motioned to the envelope you were handing him. “-to finally end.”

Steve read the invitation word for word, the wrinkles in his forehead becoming deeper as his mind worked. You couldn’t quite discern the feeling in the pit of your stomach, twisting and spinning into a tight coil, seeming to spread to the others as it grew in pressure within you.

“All three?”

“All three,” you confirmed.

Peter pushed through Bruce and Rhodey, “What’s happening? What’s gonna end?”

You looked over at Steve, his bowl of cereal now forgotten and soggy.

His eyes were distant and rather cold, hands extended on his knees as if he was drying the accumulating sweat, shoulders building tension.

“Steve, we can finally end this. We have to tell everyone. It won’t be enough if it’s just you and me.”

He wanted to explode, in both anger and anguish, to stumble over his intact persona and leave it behind - someone he hasn’t known for a long time. It ate away at him each day since Fury notified him of your selfish choice, burrowing into his now tarnished soul in the most sadistic way. But the prospect of finishing this chapter - a chapter that was unexpectedly halted when half the world disappeared - was considerably euphoric. A chance to move on.

“Okay.”

Rhodey already had knowledge of your background, recruitment, and family but Steve’s initial involvement - the start of it - was still a mystery. You sat everyone down in the living room, making room for the others who arrived later, and clapped your hands together. “Story time!”

Steve groaned, face already pressed against a throw pillow. “Just tell them.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“You know whose spawn I’m from,” you began, snickers from your amused friends encouraging you. “To better transport their product, they sent me over to the states to attend college like the good little girl they think I am.”

Sam cracked open a beer and lifted his legs up onto the couch, sitting back with a massive smile on his face as he got comfortable for your story. He handed another beer to Scott.

“Wait, product?” Scott asked, taking a sip from his drink.

You smirked at him and tapped your nose twice, amused by his ‘O’ reaction. “Anyway, by then I already knew that I wanted out of the game. I didn’t like that life, I didn’t like the violence, I didn’t like my family.”

Steve knew that was an understatement, a cruel and restrained statement from your part, and he wanted to tell everyone just how justified you were in your words, how real you were being, and how much help you would certainly need for this. But like always, he remained silent.

“But Fury got to me before I could leave. So, we made a deal. I would train as a field agent and he would promote me every other year to lessen suspicion on this whole ordeal. The deal being I would play both teams.”

By now, your whole team was intrigued.

“I would do what I could for my father and still have my family’s trust, while feeding the information to SHIELD and our lovely star-spangled man over here,” you pointed over at Steve. He gave you a tiny but forced smile.

“But after the collapse of SHIELD, my father only became more violent, more hard-headed, more suspicious. He- uh-” you stuttered, flashbacks suddenly filling your head. Wanda watched your eyes dart rapidly, sensing the rush of blood to your legs and tips of your fingers.

“He was power hungry,” Wanda said, immediately feeling your heart rate lower. Although you never actually said it, she could tell you were grateful for her intrusion.

“Yeah, exactly,” you cleared your throat. “But Steve’s involvement all started when Fury asked me who would be the best front - the most reliable front.”

“So, with only Fury and the bad guys knowing - Y/N named me as her partner in crime,” Steve explained, head hanging low as if it was such a disgrace to do what you openly did. You knew his troubles with coming to terms with such an offensive role were multiplying daily, but you were now this close to stopping every bad force involved.

“So, Captain America is the ultimate drug smuggler,” Scott spoke, somehow trying to comprehend the information all at once. You and Steve both nodded in confirmation and avoided the wide and questioning eyes looking back at you.

“Yeah, he’s essentially the top boss.”

“Y/N-,” Steve interjected, but you beat him to it.

“And here we are! Him and I both invited to the wedding.”

Wanda stretched out her words, “The wedding?”

“Yes, the wedding - where three of the most famous and powerful drug lords south of the border will be attending and ready for our taking - including my father.”

Steve stood from his seat, posture straightening as he spoke to the group. “The invitation reads like a threat. No cameras, no plus-ones besides those listed specifically on the card, no speaking to reporters before or after. The trust Y/N has gained would unknowingly make us the contraband of the party.”

After going through more specifics about the whole situation, Bucky finally raised the question eating away at his mind this whole time. “Whose wedding is it, anyway?”

You grinned that stupid little grin Steve always prepared himself for. It was the grin you would display whenever you were going to make a serious matter a joke, or brush something serious off your shoulder as if it didn’t bother you. The sarcastic grin he always wanted to wipe off your face as you defied orders.

“My lovely little sister’s.”

Rhodey stepped forward to take the invitation for personal inspection, “When is it?”

“A week from tomorrow,” you beamed. “Which means I got to get shopping for a wonderful little, red number!”

“Please, be more excited about this,” Steve groaned, sarcasm dripping off each syllable.

You flicked your right hand up and in position to flash your charming little middle finger at him, a river of fluffed ego and delight flowing to your cheeks as he huffed and left the room in a stumbled march.

“So…” Scott’s voice ripped through the awkward silence. “We’ve been secret drug smugglers this whole time?”

Please let me know what you think! I listened “The Archer” by Taylor Swift and I was like... yes, I see this, lmao. Tell me if you would like to be tagged in later updates! xxMoni

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nishiisenpai · 3 years

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punch - tanaka ryūnosuke x reader

REQUEST: “AHHHH ok so I'm irrationally angry rn and I do this thing where I punch my thighs so I don't accidentally commit a felony. I need some fluff so could you do any one of these boys (Tsukishima, Ushijima, or Tanaka,) seeing a f!reader doing the leg punchy? Any topic I just need some fluff 😅 Thanks - @italkmyselftosleep “

A/N: i chose tanaka cause he seemed to fit this more and relate to this request more too. i apologize that i wrote this so late because again, school was pretty terrible, but I hope this works :)))

okay this was really cheesy, so i will warn you in advance, but thank you so much for being patient and here’s this request for you!!!

WARNING: Fluff!!!

ADDITIONAL WARNING: foul language will be added! and mentions of managing anger. (this request was made before my rules page got set up)

WHO: Tanaka Ryūnosuke x Female Reader

Monday mornings are the worst. Let’s be honest. It was the starting of the week of school and it also could never start off right for anyone... Well for you that is.

Your alarm rang loudly knocking you out of bed.

“What time is it?” you cringed at the sound and the way your voice cracked. You squint your eyes while looking at your phone that stated 6:00 AM.

“5 more minutes.” as you stopped the alarm before turning to the other side of the bed.

The alarm rung 4 more times although you had slept past them all. The last one really shook you awake since the phone was right next to your ear.

“aH SHIT- I’m late!” as you pulled the covers off yourself but struggled to do so as you tossed and turned. You ran around your room scrambling to get your backpack ready while also dressing in the school uniform.

“Where is my vest?” as you searched through the piled up clothes at the foot of your bed.

“Y/N! Hurry up! You’re going to be late!”

“I know! I’m sorry! I’m trying to look for my vest!”

“It’s in the wash, sorry hun!” your mom came in and threw in a different vest that was identical but had a small stain.

“It’s fine! Thanks for this one though!” you grabbed your stain remover stick and your backpack before fleeing to the bathroom to quickly rush your daily routine. You ran to the front door to put your shoes on in a hurry.

“Take this with you!” as your mom threw a sandwich at your head and you lurched forward. Turning around to pick up the bagged breakfast, thanked your mom before bolting out the door immediately and ran to school.

“Miss Y/N, you’re late to class.” as your teacher skimmed at your messy figure.

“Yes, I apologize for that, I can clean up the classroom after class to make up my tardiness.”

“Very well then, take a seat, we are on page 51 in the textbook.” You went to the back of your class and sat there placing your stuff down.

“Here’s the work sheet for today’s work.” your classmate who sat next to you said handing you the assignment.

“Thank you so much.”

“No worries... Oh, and uh Tanaka was looking for you earlier.”

“Wait- what? Do you know why?”

“Unsure, he didn’t say anything other than ask if you were here.”

“Oh okay, thanks. I’ll go find him later.”

Class continued and you barely managed to stay awake. It was bad that you had stayed up all night to play video games and you kind of beat yourself up for ruining your sleep schedule. But you as well didn’t regret it since you had just leveled up to a higher rank.

You yawned as you walked out of the classroom to go find Tanaka. He must have been with Noya though your assumption had completely disappeared when you heard yelling come your way.

“Y/N!!!!” your best friend Nishinoya came running towards you.

“Huh?” and you felt the sudden weight of Noya on your back. “Shit, when did you get so heavy?”

“Heavy?!?!?!” You laughed and shook your head while caring Noya.

“I was playing, chillllll.”

“Mhm.” as he clung onto you still. You continued walking swaying your head side to side.

“Do you know where Tanaka is?”

“He was with me just a second ago.”

“So you ran off without him?”

“Yeah.” you smacked your forehead. “What?”

“You idiot, he’s probably trying to find you right now.”

“NISHINOYA!” Tanaka’s voice was heard somewhere on the right side of the building.

“AH SHIIIII” as Noya jumped off of your back and hid behind you. Tanaka came rounding the corner and saw you standing there in question.

“Hey babe, do you know where Nishinoya is?” you felt Noya tug on your shirt.

“Hm? Noya-san? No I haven’t, why?”

“He escaped Daichi’s meeting, and I had to bear with all the trouble he caused.”

“Oh really?” as you raised an eyebrow with an open smirk.

“Why do you look like that?”

“No reason... I will say, he might have went downstairs to the vending machines. He said he was hungry.”

“Alright, thanks babe.”

“You’re welcome.” as you saw Tanaka run down the stairs and you immediately pulled Noya’s arm from behind.

“You skipped Daichi’s meeting?!?!?”

“He was gonna yell at us!”

“Noya, that is irresponsible of you.”

“Well it was also irresponsible of you to lie to your boyfriend like that.”

“Hush- I don’t want to hear anything from you. Now you better go and run or I will drag you to Daichi myself.” Nishinoya shuddered in fear.

“Okay, fine. I will.” as Noya waved bye and you turned around and sighed.

“I forgot to ask Tanaka what he wanted earlier... I’ll just do it later.”

School continued and you again tried staying awake for them all. It was difficult knowing you lacked sleep which caused you to be cranky and irritated easily. Sometimes your fits would cause you to be annoying or angry. This lead you to act up more than you should have.

“Y/N, can you pass me those papers?”

“What do you want?”

“Uh, I was just asking if you could pass me those papers.”

“You literally can stand up and get it, I don’t know why you’re asking me.” you retorted back before putting your head back down on the desk.

“What the fuck?”

“I said what I said, so get up and get it. Geez...”

“Do you wanna fight or something?” your classmate raised her voice.

“Alright bet, let’s do it.” you turned to her annoyed.

“You asked for this.” as she stood up from her seat.

“Come at me bitch.” as you got up and stared at her.

“Ladies! Split it up! You both will be standing at the back of the class till the end of this period, and I do not want to hear a single word coming from both of your mouths.” Your teacher had spoken to both you and the girl as you guys headed to the back of the class and stood there.

The period carried on with you and this other classmate standing at the back of the classroom. This caused your irritation level to rise even more since your body was slowly breaking you down and begging you to lay down.

“Alright, class dismissed. Miss Y/N, I need to have a word with you.” as your teacher insisted for you to come towards her.

“I heard that you are in the volleyball club as the manager.”

“Ah yes I am.”

“Although you are the manager, you must stay here after school for the clean up you had promised me earlier.”

“May I clean up another day? This practice is really important and I must be informed about it.”

“I’m sure the others will inform you about it later. Since it seemed that you were close with Nishinoya.”

“I am, but he’s-”

“I don’t want to hear it. You promised me, therefore you shall keep it and do it.”

“But promises can be broken.”

“Not this one, unless you’d like me to force you on cleaning duty tomorrow too.”

“No thank you.”

“Good, now get to it. The room doesn’t become sparkly clean by itself.” as your teacher grabbed her bag and left the classroom. You bowed to acknowledge her leave before heading to the chalkboard to write profanities all over the wall.

“Why the FUCK did I HAVE to play games past three!?!?!?” as you banged on the wall with your fist. You were angry at yourself. It pissed you off that your day already started bad with being late and the situation you had moments ago with that classmate of yours. It even made you frustrated at yourself that you couldn’t find Tanaka to ask what he needed of you.

So many thoughts have rushed to your head as you walked to a desk to sit down. You had stopped hitting your fists against the chalkboard though that quickly switched to punching your thighs since you didn’t know where else to contain your anger. It was also a safer option than to accidently commit something dangerous.

After dealing with your anger, you started to clean the classroom. It was better to finish the job quicker and faster so that you would head to practice to see everyone in action. Especially Tanaka since he did mention how he practiced his serves and spikes recently.

Cleaning the classroom took less time than you thought. When music was being played through your headphones, you escaped the reality of cleaning and thought of wonders to help the process go by faster. This helped you calm down, though your body was aching.

You put away the cleaning supplies and rushed towards the stairs to head to the changing room in order to switch your sweaty and stained uniform into gym attire instead. You searched through your bag for deodorant and applied twice on each pit in order to securely and safely say your pits didn’t smell.

“Oh hey Y/N-san!” Hinata had shouted and you smiled.

“Hey there!” you waved back and walked to the bench towards Kiyoko.

“Hi Y/N, what took you so long?”

“I got put into cleaning duty.”

“I’m sorry to put this on you again, but you’re on cleaning duty tonight with some of the boys.”

“It’s okay, I can handle it.”

“Are you sure? I can stay back and do it instead since you’ve already done cleaning yesterday.”

“No no, it’s fine. Besides you have to study for your test tomorrow, no?”

“You’re right, but if you’d like I can-”

“Kiyoko-san, you need as much time as possible to study and get good grades. I know you are academically smart, though you like to do well, and staying behind with these rowdy boys is not what you need at the moment.” as you took off your jacket.

“WOOHOO! LOOK AT MY BEST FRIEND!!!” Noya hollered and you laughed while shaking your head.

“See.” you looked at Kiyoko before walking onto the court. ”Alright boys! Let’s start practicing on your serves!”

“Thank you for today’s practice!” as the boys bowed down to Coach Ukai.

“You already know what time it is. Go clean up and get home safe. Make sure to eat a well balanced meal and get lots of sleep, you hear me?”

“Yes sir!” as they all scrammed to different areas of the gym. Kiyoko had already left beforehand since there was an emergency she had to attend. Yachi was picking up her things before leaving and you waited behind for all of them to slowly leave one by one.

“Have a good night, Daichi, Sugawara and Asahi san.” as you waved them off and gave them a small smile.

“Make sure Kageyama and Hinata don’t stay back too late.” Daichi instructed.

“Understood. Good night to you three.”

“Good night, Y/N!” Sugawara said patting your head. You nodded listening to Sugawara.

“Good night, and stay safe Y/N.” Asahi said sending you a shy smile and you nodded again.

“I very much will, now move along. You guys need to be home soon.” As you turned your attention back to the boys and went to go toss the balls to them.

You had just locked the equipment room after cleaning the gym. Everyone had left, including Hinata and Kageyama who had to get Daichi to yell at the two to head home. The others went to change and you assumed they went home. This left you alone in the gym and no supervision.

Your body shook as the exhaustion and frustration you felt from earlier today started showing. You started getting angry and began punching your thighs. You would have slammed a volleyball but you forgot to have one saved for yourself.

The punching started getting aggressively harder and faster. You didn’t keep track of your surroundings as you only paid attention of releasing your anger through punching yourself.

“Babe! What are you still doing here??? I thought you already left.” Tanaka yawned as he walked closer to you. No response.

“Baby?” Tanaka neared closer to you. He heard the sound of skin smacking.

“Y/N?” As Tanaka stood behind you and took a full look at you, but what caught his eyes was you throwing punches at your reddening thighs.

“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH!” Tanaka jumped and hurried to step in front of you. He put his hands on the side of your arms and you looked up with tears streaming down your cheeks. Your eyes shined under the lights since the tears were welding in your eyes.

“R-ryu?”

“Baby...” as his eyes filled with concern and he held your face in his hands.

“W-what are you still doing here? I thought you went home already.” as you wiped the tears away in a rush and covered your thighs with your arms.

“No, no, I was going to stay behind to walk you home... Why were you punching yourself?” as he gently looked at you up down and rubbed a hand on your pink thighs.

“It was my version of coping with my anger... I’m sorry.”

“Oh my poor princess.” Tanaka sat down on the bench and turned your head towards him. He gave you a kiss on your lips before kissing your forehead. “Do you want to tell me what caused this to happen?”

“It was just a bad morning. I was late and assigned myself stupid cleaning duty to make up for my tardiness. Then I got into a fight with a classmate and got a punishment. After that I was put in another cleaning duty and god I just am so tired.” as you sighed melting to Tanaka’s touch. Tanaka had brought your head to rest on his shoulder as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“It’s okay princess, you did so well today. I am so proud of you for passing the day and finishing it off with me. It’s okay to be angry, though it’s not okay to commit brutal punches to your poor stunning thighs.” As he rubbed a hand over your thigh and gripped it a bit.

“I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be sorry. It was your way of controlling anger, though let’s try finding a different way to contain your anger. How about we choose a different tactic? Like writing your anger away or watching me do stupid things with Noya.”

“I wanna see you act stupid with Noya. You guys make me so happy. Mainly you though.” as you put on a smile to thank Tanaka. Tanaka clenched his heart with an exaggerated expression.

“God your smile is so pretty. How did I get so lucky?” as Tanaka gave you another kiss on your lips.

“Stop- you’re making me blush.” as you hid your face in your hands and stood up to get ready to leave. Tanaka laughed before bringing your hand to his lips to place a small gentle kiss.

“Let’s get you home, hm? We should take care of those sexy thighs.” he winked giving your bum a little smack and you playfully punched him.

“Gosh, you’re so weird.” as you walked towards the doors with Tanaka clinging onto you.

“Whatever, princess. I guess I’m just crazy in love with you.” Tanaka giggled like a little kid.

“Oh jeez-” As you guys left the gym hand in hand and casually being a cheesy couple at night.

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melinoe-writes · 4 years

Text

sincerely yours — chapter ten

Summary: Eisley Tusie was no stranger to Saturday detentions, but there was just something about that one Saturday that changed her.

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: foul language

"IT'S LIKE ME, YOU KNOW, WITH MY GRADES." Eisley looked at Brian, urging him to continue. "Like, when I step outside myself kind of, and when I look in at myself, you know? And I see me and I don't like what I see, I really don't."

Eisley frowned, "I'm sorry. Why don't you like yourself?"

"Yeah," Claire added, "What's wrong with you?"

"'Cause I'm stupid," he said bitterly, "'cause I'm failing shop. See, we had this assignment to make the ceramic elephant, and, um... and we had eight weeks to do it and we're supposed to, and it was like a lamp, and when you pull the trunk the light was supposed to go on. My light didn't go on. I got an F on it. Never got an F in my life... When I signed up, you know, for the course I mean, I thought I was playing it real smart, you know. 'Cause I thought, I'll take shop, it'll be such an east way to maintain my grade point average..."

"Why'd you think it'd be easy?" John asked evenly.

Brian looked at him, "Have you seen some of the dopes that take shop?"

"I take shop," Eisley deadpanned, narrowing her eyes at the blond kid.

Bender scoffed, "You must be a fucking idiot."

"I'm a fucking idiot 'cause I can't make a lamp?" Brian fired.

"No, you're a genius because you can't make a lamp," John replied, glowering.

Brian leaned forward towards John and Eisley, "What do you know about trigonometry?"

"I could care less about trigonometry."

"Bender," he said, "did you know without trigonometry there'd be no engineering?"

"Without lamps, there'd be no light!" John fired back.

"Okay," Eisley said loudly, interrupting the two, "We get it. Both of you are good at whatever it is you're good at." Bender huffed and put his chin on the top of her head.

"I can write with my toes," Allison said in an attempt to defuse the tension. "I can also eat, brush my teeth..."

Claire looked mildly disgusted, "With your feet?"

"... play Heart and Soul on the piano."

Brian, having cooled off, piped in with, "I can make spaghetti."

Claire smiled and turned to Andrew, "What can you do?"

"I can, uh, tape all your buns together," he replied awkwardly, "Eisley, what about you?"

Eisley shrugged, "Not much, I'm afraid."

Claire snorted, "Come on, that's got to be a lie."

"I don't know," she told the group, "Maybe photography. The pictures I take of my sister are pretty cool."

Claire leaned forward eagerly, "You have a sister?"

"Yeah," Eisley laughed lightly, "She's six. She's the reason I always run out of film for my camera." Her peers chuckled.

"I want to see what Claire can do," John said suddenly, and Eisley sighed. She turned a little in his grasp so that she was turned a little on her side, more comfortably leaning against Bender.

Claire gaped for a split moment, "I can't do anything."

"Now, everybody can do something."

"There's one thing I can do," Claire began, but then shook her head, "No, forget it. It's way too embarrassing."

"You ever seen Wild Kingdom?" John asked, trying to get Claire to relax a little. "I mean, that guy's been doing that show for thirty years."

The red haired girl bit her lip in contemplation before admitting defeat, "Okay, but you have to swear to God you won't laugh." When Bender agreed, Claire shook her head and dug in her purse for her lipstick, "I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

When Claire placed the lipstick between her breasts, Eisley's eyebrows drew. The red haired girl lowered her face and when she looked back up, her lipstick had been applied perfectly. Eisley huffed a laugh and clapped, mildly impressed.

"All right, great!" Andrew cheered, "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Camp," Claire responded, still smiling, "Seventh grade."

"That was great, Claire. My image of you is totally blown," Bender piped up, snarky and sarcastic. Evidently feeling humiliated, Claire began wiping the lipstick off.

Eisley frowned and looked up at John, "Don't be an ass."

"You're a shit," Allison seethed, "Don't do that to her. You swore to God you wouldn't laugh."

"Am I laughing?"

"You fucking prick," Andrew snarled.

Bender turned to Andrew, "What do you care what I think, anyway? I don't even count, right?" Upon hearing this, the blond jock lowered is eyes, and Eisley was brought back to the beginning of the day when he had spewed those same words to John. "I could disappear forever and it wouldn't make any difference... I may as well not even exist at this school, remember?" He turned his eyes to Claire, "And you... don't like me anyway."

"You know, I have just as many feelings as you do and it hurts just as much when somebody steps all over them!" Claire replied tearfully.

"Don't you ever... ever... compare yourself to me! Okay? You got everything, and I got shit! Fuckin' Rapunzel, right? Best thing I got is Eisley! School would probably fucking shut down if you didn't show up! 'Queenie isn't here!'" Eisley took one of his hands in her own and held it tightly, but he didn't appear to notice. "I like those earrings, Claire."

"Shut up," Claire said quietly.

"Are those real diamonds, Claire?"

"Shut up!" she shouted.

"I bet they are," John continued as though he didn't hear her. "Did you work for the money for those earrings?"

At this point, Claire was beyond furious. "Shut your mouth!"

"Or did your daddy buy those?"

"Shut up!" Claire repeated loudly, and she began crying.

"I bet he bought those for you! I bet those are a Christmas gift! Right? You know what I got for Christmas this year?It was a banner fuckin' year at the old Bender family! I got a carton of cigarettes. The old man grabbed me and said, 'Hey! Smoke up, Johnny!" Okay, so go home and cry to your daddy, don't cry here, okay?"

There were a few beats of silence that seemed to drag on forever. Finally, Andrew broke it by asking, "My God, are we going to be like our parents?"

"Not me," Claire said quietly, still crying, "ever..."

"It's unavoidable," Allison told the group. "It just happens."

Claire asked, "What happens?"

"When you grow up," Allison explained, "your heart dies."

"Who cares?" asked John.

Allison, almost to the point of tears herself, admitted quietly, "I care..."

"Um," Brian piped up, "I was just thinking. I mean, I know it's kind of a weird time, but I was wondering, um, what is going to happen to us on Monday? When we're all together again? I mean, I consider you guys my friends. I'm not wrong, am I?"

"No," said Andrew.

"So on Monday," continued Brian quietly, "what happens?"

Claire asked, "Are we still friends, you mean? If we're friends now, that is?" Brian affirmed. "Do you want the truth?"

"Yeah, I want the truth..."

"I don't think so," she said finally.

"Well, do you mean all of us or just John?" Allison questioned.

"With all of you," she confirmed.

Eisley sighed audibly through her nose as more arguing began, this time instigated after Andrew called Claire out.

"Oh, be honest, Andy. If Brian came walking up to you in the hall on Monday, what would you do? I mean, picture this, you're in there with all the sports. I know exactly what you'd do, you'd say hi to him and when he left, you'd cut him all up so your friends wouldn't think you really liked him!"

"No way!" Andrew exclaimed.

"'Kay," Allison said, cutting in, "What if I came up to you?"

"Same exact thing!"

"You are a bitch!" John shouted at Claire.

The red haired girl turned to look at him, "Why? 'Cause I'm telling the truth, that makes me a bitch?"

"No," Eisley said, much quieter than her peers were being. "You're just selfish."

"Yeah," John added, "You know how shitty that is to do to someone! And you don't got the balls to stand up to your friends and tell 'em that you're going to like who you want to like!"

Angrily, Claire snapped, "Okay, what about you, you hypocrite! Why don't you take Allison to one of your heavy metal vomit parties? Or take Brian out to the parking lot at lunch to get high? What about Andy for that matter, or me? What about Eisley? If you walked down the halls with her, they'd laugh at you and you'd probably have to tell them that you're doing it with her so they'd forgive you for being seen with her!"

"Don't you ever talk about my friends!" John began vehemently, "You don't know any of my friends, you don't look at any of my friends, and you certainly wouldn't condescend to speak to any of my friends, so you just stick to the things you know, shopping, nail polish, you father's BMW, and your poor--rich-- drunk mother in the Caribbean!"

"Shut up!" Claire screamed, crying again.

"And as far as I'm concerned about what's going to happen when you and I walk down the hallways at school, you can forget it, 'cause it's never going to happen!" John continued forcefully, "Just bury your head in the sand... and wait for your fuckin' prom! And don't you dare spew that bullshit about Eisley!" he added hastily, "She's stood up for you numerous times today and this is how you repay her! She's probably the best person in this entire fuckin' school, and I'd be proud to walk with her in the halls!"

"I hate you!" Claire spat.

"Yeah? Good!"

"Then I assume that Allison, Eisley and I are better people that you guys, huh?" Brian asked. "Us weirdos... Do you, would you do that to me?" he turned to Allison first.

Allison opened her mouth but said nothing for a second. Finally, she admitted, "I don't have any friends..."

"Well, if you did?"

"No," she said, "I don't think the kind of friends I'd have would mind..."

Brian turned to Eisley next, "Would you?"

Eisley smiled gently at him despite all the chaos that had been occurring. "No," she said, "You're my friend."

"I just want to tell, each of you, that I wouldn't do that..." Brian announced. "I wouldn't and I will not! 'Cause I think that's real shitty."

"Your friends wouldn't mind because they look up to us," Claire told him.

Brian laughed bitterly, "You're so conceited, Claire. You're so conceited. You're so, like, full of yourself, why are you like that?"

Claire began crying for a third time, "I'm not saying that to be conceited! I hate it! I have having to go along with everything my friends say!"

"You don't have to do anything," Eisley said sharply. "You are your own person. They don't control you. Popularity is not an excuse for being an asshole."

"You don't... you don't understand... you don't," Claire explained. "You're not friends with the same kind of people that Andy and I are friends with! You know, you just don't understand the pressure that they can put on you!"

"I understand completely!" Eisley said, raising her voice for only the second time that day. "Get your head out of your ass! You've got to understand that you can't be dependent on your friends forever! Grow up and get over yourself!" She was breathing heavily by the time she finished. To comfort her, John pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She gripped his hand a little tighter.

"I don't understand what?" Brian fumed, "You think I don't understand pressure, Claire? Well, fuck you! Fuck you!" The boy began crying but hastily tried to cover it up by hiding his head in his sleeve. "Know why I'm here today? Do you? I'm here because Mister Ryan found a gun in the locker..."

There was a brief silence where everybody digested what they had just been told. Eisley's heart felt heavy. She didn't know if the gun was meant for others or himself, but she had a feeling.

"Why'd you have a gun in your locker?" asked Andrew, softly.

Brian shook his head, "Just forget it..."

"You brought it up, man!" Andrew countered.

"I can't have an F," Brian murmured, "I can't have it and I know my parents can't have it! Even if I aced the rest of the semester, I'm still only a B. And everything's ruined for me!"

Pitifully, Claire whispered, "Oh, Brian..."

"So I considered my options, you know?"

"No," Claire exclaimed, "Killing yourself it not an option!"

"Well, I didn't do it," Brian snarled, "did I? No, I don't think so!"

Allison asked, "It was a hand gun?"

"No," replied Brian, "it was a flare gun, went off in my locker."

Eisley pursed her lips to try and conceal her growing smile. In her mind, she could picture it happening and setting fire to his homework and stuff. She could picture faculty comically freaking out as they tried to get the locker open to put the fire out.

Around her, her peers were trying to contain laughs, as well. "It's not funny," Brian told the group, but everyone ended up bursting into laughter, including Brian. "Yes, it is," he said, "Fuckin' elephant was destroyed."

"You want to know what I did to get in here?" Allison asked suddenly, and everyone looked at her. "Nothing," she said, "I didn't have anything better to do." Everyone began laughing again. "You're laughing at me?" she asked, smiling.

"No!" Andrew said unconvincingly.

Allison laughed, "Yeah you are!"

"What about you?" Brian asked, looking at Eisley. "What'd you do to get in here?"

Eisley bit the inside of her cheek and glanced at Andrew. "I broke Denny Duchamp's arm," she admitted.

"That was you?" Andrew exclaimed. "He's a wrestler! He can't participate in any of the matches left because of that!"

Eisley shrugged, "He should have thought about that before he decided to try and get his hand under my skirt." John laughed. His chest shook lightly, making Eisley move with it. She smiled. "Seriously, it wasn't cool. He got what he deserved."

Andrew didn't look as irritated anymore. Instead, he smiled a little.

#Allison Reynolds #Andrew Clark #Brian Johnson #Claire Standish #John Bender #The Breakfast Club #john bender fanfiction #john bender x oc #judd nelson

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mrsteveecook · 5 years

Text

my coworker uses all-caps for everything, can I ask my office to stop swearing, and more

It’s five answers to five questions. Here we go…

1. My coworker uses all-caps for everything

My team recently hired a new employee to help pick up some of the slack when it comes to the admin tasks we deal with on a day-to-day basis. Our new employee (Sansa) is enthusiastic about the job, a quick learner, and well liked by everyone in our organization. Her work is also very consistent and accurate. However, she does have one habit that drives me and my counterpart absolutely mad — she prefers to TYPE IN ALL CAPS.

Now, this wouldn’t be a huge concern if it was just on internal communication (emails to staff, messages on Slack, etc.), but one of her tasks is to draft the letters and memos that go out to our clients and the public. All of the letters she drafts use templates where the writer can fill in the blank on the particulars, meaning random words will be capitalized in the middle of a paragraph. There is nothing about the details she’s entering that warrants the use of all caps (or even bold, underline, or italics). Ultimately, this means either my counterpart or I have to re-do all the work she’s just completed (defeating the point of bringing her on the team) or the letter is sent to the client looking sloppy or poorly generated by a computer.

My counterpart and I discussed this with Sansa early on. We gently questioned if Sansa prefers to write this way because it’s easier to read, hoping we could find a way to adjust her computer screen to increase the font size. She told us that it’s just her preference. I’ve even made a joke (it was appropriate in context of the conversation) about how Sansa “yells” at me through email; to which she giggled, said that’s just how she types, and that I know she’s not trying to be “shouty.” The way I see it, it is an understood rule for anyone using electronic communication THAT ALL CAPS MEANS YOU MUST BE UPSET OR YELLING OR TRYING TO DRAW ATTENTION TO THE MESSAGE.

I hope that we’re not making a bigger deal out of this situation than need be – maybe we need to hear from an outside perspective that this isn’t a big deal and we should move on. But if you think our concerns have some merit, can you offer any advice on how we can address this with Sansa? I know from reading your articles that the next step is to very directly discuss this matter with her. However, I’d hate to go into the conversation where my only defense for asking her to change is “because it’s not how you should do it” or “it looks more professional to type normally.” To me it seems like we’re trying to push our stylistic preferences on her even though our way is the conventional format. Any advice or feedback would be greatly appreciated!

This isn’t stylistic preference. If she were just doing this in internal emails, then maybe — although even then, it would be reasonable to ask her to stop because it’s harder to read. But doing this in materials that go to clients and the public? No. That’s not okay, and it’s not just a stylistic preference. It’s the same as if she’d decided to send all your materials out in white font in pink paper — you would presumably simply tell her to stop. And you need to do that here too — without the hints and the jokes — just a clear, direct “we need you to do X instead of Y.”

I suspect you feel like you can’t say that so bluntly because you’re not her manager, but actually you can! She was hired to take work off your plates, and you’re having to redo it for her. You 100% have the standing to say to her, “We do need you to stop using all caps so that our materials are consistent and professional and easier to read. Please start using standard case on everything you’re producing for clients and the public.” In fact, not only do you have the standing to say that, but I’d argue you have an obligation to say it — because right now you’re wasting your own time cleaning up her work (which your organization and your manager surely don’t want) or allowing materials to go out looking like they were created by a hostile loon (which they also surely don’t want).

Talk to her today, and enjoy the soothing feel of standard case on your eyes tomorrow.

2. Can I ask my whole office to stop swearing?

So, maybe I just need to adult a little, and this might seem really nit-picky, but I work in a very casual, small office environment that houses different departments (eight office workers and eight yard workers and drivers who are in and out all day), where the majority of people cuss like sailors. The big boss does also; we don’t see him often, but when we do, he’s a sailor as well.

I get there is foul language everywhere, but honestly, hearing the F-bomb a half dozen times before 6 am is difficult.

I have a very good job. Is this just something I need to accept or is changing it possible in your opinion? I have thought that being the one person to say something about it would most likely put me on the “outside” and I’m not sure if it is worth it.

Well … my guess is it’s something you’ll have to decide if you can live with or not. Your situation is different from, say, this letter from someone who had one coworker who was constantly dropping F-bombs. In your case, if it were just one or two people, you could tell them the language bothers you and ask if they could rein it in. But when it’s an entire office of 16 people … that’s the culture, and they’re allowed to have a culture that uses adult language if they want to. (To be clear, there are some things where you’d have standing to ask 16 people to change, like if they were creating a sexually hostile workplace or so forth. You’re not required to live with centerfolds taped on the walls just because other people like it. But profanity isn’t in that category.)

If you feel really strongly about it, you could try saying something to the most frequent offenders, or the ones you’re most comfortable with — and even if they’re the only ones who rein it in, that would at least lower the amount you’re hearing each day. But I don’t think you can single-handedly tell each individual person there that they need to stop, and this is going to be more about whether you can be happy in this culture or not.

3. Is it bad to step back from a management job to a less senior position?

I’m currently a manager of a team of 28. I’ve been with my current employer for nine years, and I’ve been a manager for the last three. I work in the financial services industry in a very high-stress, fast-paced, cutthroat, high-stakes environment. The job has taken its toll on my health over the years. I’m 31 years old and am currently on two medications to control my dangerously high blood pressure. I work 12-hour days and sometimes I even have to work on Saturday mornings to catch up on my reports and other behind-the-scenes tasks that I cannot complete during the standard work week.

I’m about to accept a job offer at another company where I think I would be a great fit. I really like the role that they’re offering me. The thing is, I would not be a manager. I would be starting from the bottom again as an individual contributor. Part of me feels embarrassed and like it’s a sign of failure, because I’m currently a manager and I would be moving down to an individual contributor role. However, I don’t really think being in a management role is doing my health or work-life balance any favors. I like the idea of coming in every day, sitting at my desk, focusing on my own work and being responsible for myself, not other people.

I went through multiple rounds of interviews with the new potential employer and they were very impressed with my work experience and skills. They do not seem to be fazed by the fact that I would be trading down to a lower level role. Part of me still feels weird about it because I’ve grown so much and made so much progress at my current employer, but I just simply cannot stay in this stressful role anymore. Is it common for people to step down from being managers and go back to being individual contributors?

It’s very common! Some people stop managing because they realize they don’t like it (lots of people don’t like it!) or aren’t great at it, some people stop managing because there’s just another role that appeals to them more, some people stop because management just doesn’t happen to be part of the next thing they do.

Management is a huge pain the ass — stressful and often thankless. It sucks that it’s often the only way to move up in your career. But if you’ve found a job that you’d like and that gets you away from a work environment that’s destroying your health, don’t have qualms about taking it. People move around and career trajectories aren’t always perfectly linear. And if you decide you want to move back into management in the future, you’ll be helped by having management experience in your past.

I also wouldn’t think of it as “starting from the bottom again,” unless you’re taking an entry-level role, which I doubt you are. Plenty of individual contributor roles are quite skilled, senior, and respected. I think the management vs. non-management distinction is messing with your head more than it should — and that you should take the job, lower your blood pressure, and revel in the fantastic joy of not being responsible for other people.

4. I have to pay for an assessment test in an interview

I am in the second step of an interview process. The first was to watch a few videos the company posted on YouTube, then submit a video with your opinion of the videos, detailing why you’re a good fit, what does the future look like with you employed there, etc. The second was to take the Kolbe assessment test, that the applicant has to pay for. All of this has been done via email, no phone.

I’ve been out of the interviewing process for a while now, but it just seems as though we should not have to pay to interview. Is this normal now? I’ve tried googling if this is common but nothing is coming up on the matter at all.

No, this is not normal. You should not need to pay for assessment tests. This is either a scam or a company that doesn’t know what it’s doing (I’m leaning toward the latter, given the inept-sounding first step of their process). I wouldn’t pursue this.

5. Vacations when I’m resigning and starting a new job

I’ve been in talks with a new company and it is likely I will be offered a position in early to mid April. I would like to give three weeks notice to my current employer, but I have one-week vacation booked April 20-27. This week would fall in my notice period. Is that okay?

Also, I have a trip booked for two weeks May 15-29, which would be in the first month at my new company. Is it bad etiquette to take this, and do I need to cancel (I would lose $600 and an amazing trip!) or do most employers understand and accommodate if they are told this in the interview stage? I want to set myself up for success and leave my old company in a good state, but also have had these trips planned for months and would like to take them.

I tend to do all my travelling in the spring and late fall, and it just happens to be bad timing this year.

Some companies won’t let you take vacation time during your notice period because the point of the notice period is to give you and them time to transition your work, and that can’t happen if you’re not there. But because you’re going to give three weeks, that should help — you can frame it as “since I already have a trip booked for part of this time, I’m going to give three weeks notice so I’m still here for two weeks before I leave.” That said, the timing of your resignation could matter. If the trip would be the third week of your notice period, they may tell you to just officially wrap up the week before, leaving that vacation week unpaid (if you’re in a state that doesn’t require employers to pay out accrued vacation time). So factor that in as well.

For your May trip, the time to bring this up with the new employer is once you have an offer but before you’ve accepted it. At that point, explain that you have a pre-planned trip that’s already been paid for and offer to take the time unpaid. Lots of employers will be fine with this; others may not, especially if, for example, it would mean you’d miss important training. But it’s a normal thing to ask about. (They also might just prefer to have you start after the trip is over, but that’s something they’ll suggest if so.)

You may also like:

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allofusandco · 6 years

Text

Knight in glittering armor

with @moonoverbourbon

Nik and Liv don’t get along well, until they start making an effort.

Nik:

The ladder was rickety enough. Nik was balanced precariously at the top, hammer in one hand and three nails sticking out of his mouth. He shifted, rocking with the ladder as he waited to steady itself. Down below he could make out Liv lounging against the counter, listening to some god-awful music and reading a spell book that was open to some language Nik couldn’t read.

Another swing of the hammer and the crown molding slid back into place where it had been drooping. Two or three more nails, a coat of paint, and it would be good as new – and Nik would have knocked another thing off is impressive to-do list.

Not that he minded in the least. It gave him something to do rather than sit around on his hands waiting to find another job – or worrying about overstaying his welcome.

“Liv, love, could you be a dear? I think this ladder will topple at any second. If you would be so kind as to hold the bottom? It would save some of Ric’s merchandise if I fell, and perhaps a few broken bones on my part…”

–––––

Liv:

There were two, maybe three translations that were plausible. Problem was deciding which one might actually work. Ugh, translating. Liv… hated it, or loved it, or something. For whatever reason, once she’d found that there was a list of things Alaric wanted to translate, she couldn’t help but feel the need to start showing him up by translating them. Unfortunately, she had a grossly inflated sense of her ability to do it.

Read, yes. Understand, mostly, sure. But give it the same sense in English? She was starting to realize whey people did this shit at college.

So she did, secretly, groan in relief when Nik called out.

She slid one of Alaric’s linen bookmarks (read: scrap of fabric, he really didn’t have much sense of style) between the pages and made a show of putting the book on the shelf behind the counter.

“All I hear, is, woof woof woof,” she song-songed, following the sound to the back of the store (okay, maybe Alaric had no actual power, but he was good enough with runes so even Liv felt a weird reluctance to pass through (one she ignored, because all the best stuff was back here).

“Wouldn’t you heal fast anyway?” She sounded bored, but held the bottom of the ladder. “Anyone tell you lately you have a really nice ass? Twitch for me.”

–––––

Nik:

“Healing fast doesn’t mean I want to break bones. It’s still painful.” Nik waited until she took the bottom of the ladder, and then placed another nail against the crown molding. “You don’t like me much do you?” he asked, in reference to her dog joke. Usually he wouldn’t ask, just assume that she disliked him and leave it at that, but he was staying here for the moment – and he didn’t want any bad blood between her and him to become problematic for Alaric.

A few beats of the hammer later and the nail slid into place. Nik took out another, pretty sure that this was the last one he would need and began to hammer it in to the wall. The hammer froze mid-swing, however, at her comment. His face flushed scarlet, and he kept himself turned away so that she couldn’t see the effect her words had on him.

“I will do no such thing.” The words were as flustered as he felt, but he finally managed to get the nail into the wall and start the climb down the ladder. “But thank you, I suppose.” Nik still couldn’t meet her eyes. “No, no one has told me that. I’m sorry I distracted you from whatever you were doing, but thank you for your help.”

–––––

Liv:

“I like you fine,” Liv said, rolling her eyes. “Wish you could dish it out as bad as I give it, though. Might make for some entertainment around here. Just one twitch?” Somewhere around here there had to be someone who had a better appreciation of boobs. Somewhere. Maybe she could hand out little tin badges so they were easier to identify. She stepped away from the ladder and jerked her thumb at the window.

“Not a lot of customers in this kind of rain,” she said, cheerfully enough, given that she’d spent about an hour yesterday talking to someone who was at that pointed very excited by the divine female principal and wanted to discuss in depth the relative merits of at least twenty books Alaric probably shouldn’t have even had in stock (not because they were necessarily bad, but because they attracted people who could say things like ‘the divine feminine principal’ with a straight face.

“But since I’m distracted… what’s your story, Nik? No offense, but you’re kinda jumpy and sensitive for a werewolf. My br- I used to know a few. They were all bad language and humping my leg. You seem…”

Okay, it really wouldn’t kill her to be nice.

“Different. Just different. You can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to be rude to me. Why not just give it a go? I dare you.”

–––––

Nik:

Nik wasn’t hardwired to be mean to anyone, especially a woman. It just wasn’t in him. His mother and his sisters weren’t ever the recipient of his cruelty, and he wasn’t about to start with some witch who was purposely attempting to goad him into a fight.

“I don’t have much of a story,” he answered honestly and with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. “I came from London. My family settled in New Orleans. I triggered the curse there, and came here looking for ways to stop it.” He took a seat on the counter, staring down at his hands for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “I’m sorry if I’m not the normal werewolf that you know. I…suppose I’m just meant to be different.”

He shook his head at her question and the challenge she presented. “Why? Why would I want to be rude to you? I do not dislike you, Liv. I don’t see a point in being nasty to someone for the simple enjoyment of it. I don’t get anything from that, and I don’t like the idea of hurting someone with careless words.”

Different. Yes, Nik supposed he was.

“Why would you want me to be mean to you?” Nik grew up with mean words and actions. For some, it would have been enough to turn them equally mean and brutal. For him, however, it had the opposite effect. He never wanted to be the one to cause someone pain, even in good natured fun. He knew how easy it was for good natured fun to cross a line.

–––––

Liv:

Yeah, he was different, alright, but somehow Liv suspected that even as a human, he probably was. “Most wolves I’ve ever met had foul tempers long before they set off the curse,” she said, with a shrug. “It’s the reason most of them triggered it in the first place.”

And why? Because it was what she was used to?

“I don’t know. Because a little verbal sparring is fun?” Maybe not. Maybe he was one of those guys who grew up knowing you don’t talk back or there’ll be problems. Her own father wasn’t exactly the nicest; no fan of being spoken back to, but only because he was the head of the coven, he really didn’t care who anyone else took a piece out of.

She was about to ask a question that was really none of her business when two people came inside; the kind who thought they knew about witchcraft but would probably shit themselves if they heard people talking casually about werewolves. Liv gave a wide, bright smile, and reminded herself she needed to start wearing much more mystical looking jewelry.

She was busy for the next hour, which was good, especially as she’d discovered she had a flair for sales, when she wasn’t actively trying to repel customers. But it calmed down again, probably right as the Corner Bar was getting busy. Liv suddenly wished she had a drink in her hand.

“I suppose,” she said, when Nik came back, “it means something different to me. If someone’s mean to me, but I know we’re friends… it means we’re good enough friends so they’re not afraid some misstep is going to ruin things. Friendship shouldn’t be made of glass. I’m sorry. I’ll try to be nice.”

–––––

Nik:

Foul tempers. Nik got angry easily, yes, but he’d learned long ago that letting that anger show was an act of defiance. Letting go of his emotions, showing anything other than obedience, had always been cause for more anger and more pain directed at him. He’d learned at a very young age not to show anything other than what Mikael asked for – fear and subservience.

“It’s a long story,” he said, voice attempting to hide any sort of emotion. “I suppose I’m not your typical werewolf – not that shocking really.” Nik was never really a typical anything.

Then he was, quite literally, saved by the bell. He was half-tempted to slip away while she was dealing with the customers, but in the end he didn’t want to be rude. So he watched her work, busying himself with straightening a shelf that some careless customer had left in a ramshackle mess. That shelf led to another, and then another.

The floor needed sweeping, and a hole in the heating duct needed to be repaired. It was an hour, easily, before he realized he was avoiding talking with her. Rude. Liv had hit too close to home with some of her words, but there was no call for him to avoid her. As long as he was here he’d need to speak to her, so avoiding her now would only make things awkward.

And she seemed to pick right back up where she left off.

“I don’t have many…” Or any, really. “Friends. I’ve never been overly good at making them. My apologies if I offended you, Olivia. It was not my intent.” It was different for him – mean meant dislike, hatred, annoyance at him for simply existing. You don’t have to change yourself for my benefit. I’m…I wouldn’t ask that of you or anyone else. I can take a few barbs and insults thrown my way. Just please don’t expect them to be returned.”

–––––

Liv:

Liv set her jaw. Alright, Nik was going to need a different kind of handling. She got that. Awkward in her own way, Liv knew the sarcasm and bitchiness was partly for her own entertainment, and partly a front.

“I don’t have a lot of friends myself,” she admitted, opening a box of necklaces and rings that had just arrived, preparing to sort them into the display cabinets. “I know you’ll find that shocking, with my magnetic personality. I have acquaintances. But not friends. When I was a kid, people stayed away from my family. I suppose I never really grew out of that. There, we’re both weird. Feel any better?”

An understatement. There was nothing like everyone knowing your brother had killed half your family and then disappeared before he could stand trial. But for now it was better that Nik assumed it was just because they were witches.

“I can’t believe how well this junk sells. This – this isn’t even real lapis lazuli. That would come as a shock to a vampire looking for protection. But this…”

She dangled a necklace out in front.

“Real watermelon tourmaline. That takes an enchantment nicely.”

She put it aside; she’d ask Alaric is he could take it out of her wages. No way was that being wasted on someone who just thought it was pretty.

“I’m hard to offend. Let’s just call it a truce. Be weird friends. Sound like a deal?”

–––––

Nik:

Nik didn’t figure that Liv was the bastion of social butterflies. She seemed abrasive most days, on edge, willing to cut with words when things got too intense. It was one of the reasons he’d stayed clear of her for the most part; words sometimes hurt worse than fists. Bruises and even scars faded, but words had a way of sticking around long past the physical.

But, he wasn’t sorry they were having this talk. It gave him insight to her that he hadn’t had before. She was battered like he was – maybe not physically, but definitely emotionally. Her aggression was a front, a barrier, to keep herself from getting hurt.

He could definitely understand that.

“I can handle that,” Nik spoke softly, nodding his head. “Weird friends it is. Regardless, I appreciate your honestly, Liv.” And then there was that awkward silence, the moment when he wanted to tell her that his own family wasn’t that highly regarded. Hers was different though – witches, he assumed. His own family was normal in comparison.

He was left with the realization that perhaps she needed a friend – weird or not – almost as much as he did…and he vowed to try a bit harder to understand her.

“Listen, Ric will be gone for another few days. I’m assuming he’s off having the time of his life with that rather flexible boyfriend of his…don’t get me started on the noises I hear at night. Perhaps we could get dinner tonight? It would save my heart valves the added blockage that another pizza would cause. What do you say?”

–––––

Liv:

Liv had turned back to work, feeling a little weak; it wasn’t that she didn’t like confrontation. No, on the contrary, she thrived on confrontation, keeping the upper hand, keeping the other person on their toes. No, what she didn’t like much was this kind of emotional honesty. And that was enough for the week. Month! Longer, maybe.

Also she really wanted to get terribly drunk, and cry about Luke, dare herself to ruin everything by calling him on their emergency number. Of course, that would mean they both had to move on. And Liv liked it in Buffalo. She liked the shop. Alaric and his books. Living with Enzo. She even liked Nik, despite all evidence to the contrary.

She gave a nod. Weird friends, then. She pretended to test a couple of biros on scrap paper until her lungs worked properly again, and then looked up at Nik, one eyebrow so high on her forehead she could have combed her hair with it.

“I don’t know how you put up with that. I mean, I’d watch, but I don’t think I could handle having to listen.” She tossed the pens aside. They both worked as well as they had been working all afternoon. “Donner sounds fine.” It sounded better than fine, and she was sick of scrounging Alaric’s fridge for leftovers which would cause her large intestine to melt. “I’m closing at eight all week. He knows. He might be idiotic enough to hang around for fourteen hour days but I’m not.”

She glanced at one of the clocks on the wall.

“There’s an Italian place down the street. It’s tiny, you probably haven’t noticed it, running past with Alaric. Italian as in pasta and risotto, not pizza. And cheap wine.”

–––––

Nik:

“Gay guys and hipsters.” Nik laughed, actually laughed, and followed her toward the table. “Being neither, I couldn’t say.” It wasn’t entirely true; Nik didn’t mind male attention, just as he didn’t mind female attention, but a hipster he most definitely was not. “There was a time not long ago when I would have doubted a place like this could be that dangerous. I was blissfully in the dark before my…well, you know.”

Not really something he wanted to talk about in such a public place.

He took a seat, picking up the menu that the hostess set down in front of him. It contained more types of pasta than he was familiar with, and about a hundred different pizza types. He could get lost in it for days. “Garlic bread is a must have.” He ordered a hot tea and water to go with it, letting Liv place her drink order as well before returning back to their conversation.

“Enzo seems like a nice bloke, and I’m sincerely hoping I impress him enough to land a job at the bar. I appreciate all that Alaric has done for me, but I don’t want to impose on him beyond my welcome. I suspect that there are only so many things I can fix around the shop before he runs out of things for me to do.”

Nik shrugged. He hated feeling like he was taking advantage of anyone, especially someone that had been so unselfishly kind to him.

Lasagna seemed like a safe bet. He was almost sure that any Italian place worth its salt could whip up a fantastic lasagna. Once a piping hot batch of garlic bread and their drinks were placed in front of them, Nik ordered. “Save room for dessert. My treat.”

“What brought you to Buffalo? Do you have family here, or was it just a random pick on the map?” Or she could have been like him, searching out Alaric’s help with some problem or another. He just hoped his attempt at small talk wasn’t too intrusive. “If you want to talk about it, that is.”

Spaghetti alio et oglio. It always seemed vaguely magical. That would do. Also, not gay? She’d had a vibe. Thought he was crushing on Ric, at first, but she was pretty sure he was just grateful, now.

“I thinking saving his life impressed him just fine,” she said, with a raised eyebrow, before leaning back. “I wouldn’t worry. But I don’t think you’re exactly getting in Ric’s way. He’s a weird guy, you know. I mean, this thing with his undead boyfriend seems kinda new. You just moved in a while before I started working for him. You think he even had friends before that?” She thought a moment. “Michael doesn’t count. He’s an asshole and I have no idea why Alaric looks genuinely pleased to see him when he shows up.”

She stared at the menu a few moments longer, and when their order was taken, added a glass of white wine.

“I’ve never turned down dessert in my life,” she said, with a smile.

It was weird; on the one hand, Liv didn’t want to talk about her family at all. On the other hand, she missed Luke like a limb, this week. And the thought of someone around here knowing something about her was appealing. Nik knew how to keep a secret.

“Mostly random,” she said. “I graduated in May, had to go somewhere. Home’s not an option. My family have a destiny in mind for me, and I don’t want any part of it.” She thought for a moment. “You’d better be prepared to guard this secret as well as you do your own, because if someone like Michael found out, I could be in real trouble. My family reveres twins. And I’m a twin. But on our twenty-third birthday, we have to do this ritual, and merge. One dies, the other take their power, and becomes the next coven head. It’s barbaric, and we didn’t want any part of it. So Luke and I said goodbye after graduation and we’re staying apart for… well. Until we’re both twenty-four, at least.”

But how could she explain how hard it was to be apart from someone she’d shared a womb with?

–––––

Nik:

It was a good question, Nik supposed. Ric didn’t seem like the kind of guy that had a lot of close friends. Acquaintances, yes. Close friends…not so much. “I know he has Ben. I met him the other night. Good guy. But you’re right. I don’t know that he would have had a lot of really close friends. The vampire boyfriend is…odd…considering what he does, but I think he’s happy.” At least he seemed happy…delirious in love and all that. It made Nik jealous in a way; not because he was jealous of Ric, but because he seemed so happy.

That sort of happiness wasn’t something Nik had firsthand knowledge about.

The garlic bread hit the table and had his mouth watering. It would make for horrible breath – good thing this wasn’t a date. At least he didn’t have to worry about awkward goodnight kisses with garlic breath. Definitely a mood killer.

Nik started to tell her that she didn’t have to tell him deep, dark family secrets, but she was already spilling it before he could say anything. “I would never betray you, Olivia. Anything you tell me will remain between the two of us, I promise you.” Nik owed Michael a lot, but he wouldn’t give away her secrets for anything in the world. He had his own secrets that he wanted no one else to know; he knew how she felt.

He wasn’t, however, expecting that sort of secret.

“I’m so sorry.” And Nik genuinely meant that. “It’s horrible to be separated from your siblings, and forgive me for saying such…but that sounds insane. What sort of family would sacrifice one of their children…”

His.

He broke off and stirred the tea that had been placed in front of him.

“I have siblings too. Four of them. I had five, but my younger brother was killed in an accident. I don’t see them anymore either…haven’t since I triggered my curse. I suspect I’m the last person any of them ever want to see again.” He shrugged as if it didn’t bother him, and didn’t really know why he’d chosen to share that. Perhaps it was because Liv had shared something so personal with him. “For what it’s worth, Olivia, I’m glad you’re here, and I’m glad you’re safe.”

–––––

Liv:

It was a weird sort of relief, having someone know what had her pocketed away with a fake name. “Sometimes I think I’m probably being stupid, working in a magic shop. Someone who knows me could go to Alaric for some magic doodad and find me here, but I’m sick of feeling cut off from magic.” She smiled. “They are insane. And it’s not just them. Generations and generations of my family think it’s a-okay to let one twin die so the coven always has a leader. There’s never been any thought to what sort of leaders two powerful twins could be together…”

She stuffed her mouth with garlic bread, hoping to swallow past the lump in her throat.

“I’m sorry about your little brother,” she said at last. “And the rest. Wow, we’re a fucked up pair, aren’t we?”

She stopped talking as the rest of their meals was delivered, and flashed a tight smile at the waiter.

“Family fucks you up. I have a sister – the older one who survived – she disappeared, right after that, and she’s never been in contact again. Not with any of us. I miss her, but… well, I mean, I feel like I miss her, but I don’t know her. She’s almost twenty years older than me. No one talks about her. Like she betrayed the family, or something. I think I’d probably like her, if I could find her. I haven’t really looked too hard, though. Why bother? She deserves her peace like I deserve my life.”

She sat up straighter and reached for the parmesan cheese.

“For the record, if your family doesn’t accept you the way you are, they deserve you about as much as mine deserves me.” Tough words; Liv still missed her father, no matter how angry she was, no matter how hurt. “Seems like Alaric’s shop is a bit of a family for people with no one else. I mean, his parents are dead. Dracula doesn’t exactly seem like the type to have family get-togethers at Christmas. You, me… even Enzo’s pretty lonely. Only reason I can think of that he puts up with me dancing in the kitchen and watching Netflix until six in the morning.”

–––––

Nik

“Yes, it would seem that we are indeed a fucked up pair.” Nik shook his head, but her turn of phrase made him smile. It wasn’t so bad being ‘fucked up’ when one knew someone just as messed up as they were. In an odd sort of way, it made him appreciate her company more. Liv’s story was horrible, but if anyone could understand where he was coming from, it was her.

A fact that was all but confirmed when she said that Nik’s family deserved him as much as her family deserved to have her in their lives. It was the first time someone had said anything like that to him.

“I have siblings. Two older brothers, a younger sister and brother. I haven’t spoken to any of them since the night I left home. Would you like to hear a secret?” It wasn’t really a secret, but more like something else they shared in common. “I’ve an older sister as well. She went to live with an Aunt when she was…” he thought back, trying to remember the story he’d been told, “five, I believe. I haven’t ever even spoken to her.”

Nik knew what it was like to miss something you didn’t know; he had never met Freya, and they didn’t talk about her at home, but he missed her nonetheless.

He fidgeted with his water glass, not really sure that this conversation was one she wanted to have. It was too heavy, too dark for something that was supposed to be a friendly night out. “Alaric the supernatural-whisperer. Despite Damon’s cockiness, I think he’s good for him. Even since I’ve been there, I can tell the difference in his demeanor. He seems…less intense.”

When she spoke about Enzo, Nik was quick to shake his head. “Do not sell yourself short, Olivia. Enzo may well be lonely, but you are more than a distraction from that.” She was a good person, despite the gruff-around-the-edges attitude – which he understood now that he’d heard her story.

A defense mechanism, much like most who’d been kicked around their entire life had.

It made him feel bad for pointing it out earlier.

“Enzo…are you? I mean…” The garlic bread had suddenly become fascinating. “Are you two more than friends? It’s not my business; I was just curious to see if Ric was the only one around with love in the air.”

–––––

Liv:

Nik had siblings. It seemed strange, he was so solitary, but hey. Not Liv’s place to judge. She had a burning curiosity about the sister who’d been sent away, though. Seemed odd.

“Well. Let’s hope our sisters are safe and happy, then,” she said, raising her glass. But Jo. “It’s probably not fair, but since Luke and I split I’ve thought about her more and more.” She thought a moment. “The truth is, when I was a kid, Jo’s brother – her twin – he didn’t have magic. Not normal magic. He could suck it out of something else, someone else. But he didn’t have his own. He went nuts the night before their twenty-third birthday, killed my mom, killed the youngest twins… They locked him up, I don’t know the details. Dad never talked about him. I got some of the… yeah, families are messed up. I’d rather not see any of them until Luke and I are old enough so it doesn’t matter what they do. We can be the radical change. Maybe one day we’ll lead the coven together; if we don’t, it’s finished,” she admitted, which seemed sad, but inevitable, and probably no great loss to the world. Also, I’m done with this subject.”

It wasn’t his fault she’d discussed it at all, but she was abruptly exhausted.

She let Nik switch up the subject.

“Supernatural whisperer… I like that. He’s a weird guy,” she said. “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure about him. But I think I like him. I like Damon, too, but if you tell him I said that I’ll hex you, because the guy is an ass.”

She took a mouthful of the pasta, and almost choked on it.

“Me and Enzo? No!” she coughed, and drank some water. “I don’t think he… I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even like girls. Does he? Oh, man, my gaydar is so glitch…”

Because she’d made an assumption about Nik, too, one which she was now pretty sure she’d messed up badly. She punched her chest, and drank some more, until she was no longer at risk of choking to death on garlic.

“No, no. No love in the air. And by the way, don’t let Alaric hear you talk like that. Ignore the longing looks and the way they’re already finishing each other’s sentences; they’re friends with benefits, nothing more.”

Fucking idiot boys were lying liars, and Liv’s sarcastic airquotes were completely exhausted.

“I was wondering about you and Enzo, actually,” she admitted.

–––––

Nik:

Her story just kept getting worse, and it was to the point that Nik wanted to change the subject just for her sake alone. He didn’t mind letting her talk through it, but it seemed to be doing more harm than good at this point. But then, yes…just when he thought it was getting worse, they shifted onto another subject.

Good. Talking about Ric. He could do that.

“I don’t think Damon much cares for me,” Nik smiled and shook his head. He’d heard about the animosity between werewolves and vampires, but it honestly didn’t faze him. To Nik, people were people and they all deserved a chance until they gave him reason not to believe in them. “But I don’t mind him. He seems like a decent enough sort, and he’s crazy about Alaric…despite how aloof he tries to pretend being. I like them together.”

Nik’s eyes widened when she reacted so forcefully to his question. “I’m…sorry…are you okay?” He handed her a napkin, worried for a second that he’d actually caused her to choke. “I just…you live with him. I didn’t know if he was your boyfriend or a friend with benefits. I didn’t mean to be rude; I was just…curious.” Curious, yes. He’d wanted to know if he was encroaching on anyone’s space by having dinner with her; Nik didn’t want Enzo to think he was moving in on his girlfriend, when that wasn’t even a consideration.

Or… maybe wasn’t a consideration? He didn’t know anymore.

“I’ve seen love before.” How sad was it for him to say that? He’d seen love before…. It implied he’d never had it, which wasn’t far from the truth. “They are most definitely in love. It’s dripping from every pore.” Nik smiled and shook his head, but he was genuinely happy for them Ric was a good person for taking him in, and he deserved every ounce of happiness that he could eek out of life.

Then it was his turn to nearly choke to death on a bite of garlic bread that suddenly decided it wanted to invade his wind pipe. “Enzo and I? What? Why would you think that? We’ve barely spoken… I just…helped him out of a jam one evening. It’s a swell fellow, but….”

No. They weren’t a thing. Enzo was certainly attractive, but Nik hadn’t even thought of him that way. It seemed as if a lot of misconceptions were flying about tonight.

–––––

Liv:

Liv had to laugh out loud; Nik was purple. “Oh, please. This is such an over-used trope, but it doesn’t make it any less fun. Boy saves boy from vampires, boys bond over it, and then there’s the sex scene.” Being broke and reading a lot of fanfiction instead of buying books had given Liv a healthy appreciation of clichés. She shrugged. “Swell fellow. Oh, I like that. He’d love to hear that. I’m gonna make him a pin or something.” She snorted again, for effect, and took a mouthful of the magic pasta. So tasty. “Friend with benefits. Definitely. Main benefit is that it doesn’t seem to bother him when I dance around the kitchen in a tank top and underoos. Poor guy, I’m not sure he’s even been laid since I moved in, if I’m wrong about you.” Not that Liv’s sex life was any more thrilling. She did, of course, possess the finest vibrator money could… never mind. Not the point.

“I don’t think Damon cares much for anyone. Except the obvious,” she said, flipping her hair back and tilting her chin. “But no, I don’t mind him either. The banter is nice. I think he’s in too good a mood to do any damage. Doesn’t want his boo to throw him out on his perfectly shaped ass.” She thought a moment. “You know, Ric’s not half as bad at magic as he thinks he is. He’s got a spell to expel vampires that have already been invited in, and I’m actually pretty sure he adapted it himself. I found the notes, when I was…”

Snooping.

“Dusting.” Like she dusted!

Liv shrugged. Not everyone needed natural magic. He did well with his funny runes.

“I don’t think Michael knows that kind of magic well, or I’d assume he helped.” She bristled. She knew Michael had helped Nik out with the ring and that was all very mice and decent and… whatever, she didn’t like him, she didn’t like the way he asked a thousand questions, and she didn’t trust him.

She was afraid of him, if she was honest. He had the power to fuck everything up, and the only assurance she had that he was trustworthy was the fact Alaric trusted him. And Alaric was dating a vampire, so. He might be a good guy but his judgment was far from perfect.

–––––

Nik:

“I can assure you there is no boy bonding or sex scenes.” She was taking entirely too much pleasure out of this, and Nik was pretty sure the tips of his ears were bright red. “Enzo is a nice guy, but…no.” Attractive, yes, but Nik didn’t get the vibe of anything other than a potential friendship off him. Not that he was looking for anything else; his issues would be hard for someone else to take on – not to mention unfair of him to offload on anyone else.

As soon as Liv said dancing in underroos, Nik got the mental image – and subsequently tried his hardest to block it from his mind just as quickly. Enzo was lucky in that regard; he imagined that Liv was quite beautiful when she was that uninhibited…more beautiful than she was now, if that were possible.

“I don’t know,” Nik shrugged, mind drifting away from underroos and back to the vampire that had seemed to take up residence at the shop. “I think Damon is a bit more complex than that. I think…” Well, he thought perhaps they might be more alike than one thought (and Damon would certainly hate that being pointed out. Nik had heard the dog jokes.). “I think he cares very deeply, but I think he’s afraid to show it. If you are told your feelings are of little consequence for long enough, you start to believe it.”

That had certainly been his experience, and he’d seen a similarly hollow look on Damon’s face when he thought no one was looking.

Change of subject. He didn’t want to sit here all night discussing Damon Salvatore’s psyche.

“That spell. Is that why Damon complains about not being able to come in at least once a week?” Nik smiled, even thought he’d mentioned Damon again. He figured Ric knew a little magic – at least the basics – so that he would know what he was dealing with at the shop.

“Are you and Michael not friends? You…seemed a bit on edge when you mentioned him.” Nik didn’t know much about Michael outside of getting to know him when the ring was being crafted. They hadn’t spent much time together outside of that, but Nik didn’t see him as the bad sort. Maybe a bit stuffy, but not a bad person.

Nik pushed his plate aside, saving room for desert and asked for a menu when the waiter came back by. Tiramisu. Most definitely. “Those lot aside, what are you having for dessert?”

–––––

Liv:

“Oh, please. I admitted to liking Damon a tiny bit.” More than that, maybe. “But don’t make me feel sorry for the guy, not when he’s swanning around the place with that ‘I’ve been laid twice since you last saw me’ look on his face.” She shook her head, hair falling down around her face again until she had to toss it back again. “Whatever tragic vampire back story he has, he’s doing better than most, these days. So.” She shrugged minutely, and reached for a piece of garlic bread, to mop up the last of the spicy olive oil in her bowl, adding flakes of parmesan before she stuffed it into her mouth.

She nodded, with her mouth still full, and washed down the last delicious morsel with a sip of wine.

“Yep. I think the first time he did it he meant it, and now he just does it when he’s pretending to have the shits with his boo. It’s pretty good, though.” She tidied her mouth with a napkin, surreptitiously checking that she hadn’t dripped oil on her shirt. All was well.

Michael, ugh. Fine. “He’s a nosy, self-important jackass. No, I don’t like him. He asks too many questions, like people in this… world don’t have their reasons to keep secrets. He told Ric he thought me keeping secrets might endanger him, and his shop, and… alright, that’s all probably true. But sticking your face in my face and getting personal about my past is not the way to find out a thing.”

Okay, no, she wasn’t going to do this.

“If anyone finds out where I am, I’ll be dragged back. And they have ways of forcing me to talk about Luke. I don’t know where he is, but they might be able to find him through our connection. And then one of us is dead, and the other is the head of a coven neither of us wants to lead. So.” She bristled again, and breathed. “Sometimes I think I really would have been better off getting a job in a bookshop. Or a childcare center. Or, heaven help me, using my degree, not that I really can without drawing attention. But I missed magic.”

She closed her eyes, and let herself focus on the flow through her body, so much clearer now she was using regularly again. She felt the crackle in her hair, and wondered if Nik, so much more than human, could sense it. Other people in the room might feel a momentary sense of their spirits lifting. The true psychic dead-ends wouldn’t notice a thing.

“Tiramisu,” she said. “And none of this ‘let’s share’. I want one for myself.” She smiled sweetly at the waitress again. “And coffee liqueur.”

She turned back to Nik, once he had ordered.

“Sorry. Forget it. I can handle him. I’m not gonna let him trip me up. This isn’t forever. Once we’re too old to merge, we’ll come out with a great fat fuck you to my father, and then we can start talking about restructuring the coven. Twins aren’t the only energy source in the world, and there are less murderous ways to do things.”

–––––

Nik:

They really needed to change the subject. Nik didn’t like the idea of upsetting Liv, and this line of conversation seemed to be ramping up whatever anxiety she was feeling about her family. But he vowed to himself then and there that he would do whatever he could to help protect her and her secret. Perhaps it was his own issues with his family, or maybe he really did like her despite their getting off on a wrong foot, but Nik wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her if he could help it – and he was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one.

He ordered himself a tiramisu, not willing to fight her over her dessert.

“Let’s talk about something else, shall we? It doesn’t sound as if this is a happy turn in the conversation, and I would like to end this evening on a pleasant note for you. You mentioned a degree? What did you study? I went to Loyola in New Orleans. Art. Fat lot of good it is doing me now; I can’t remember the last time I picked up a paintbrush that didn’t involve touching up things around the shop.” He smiled a little wistfully, really missing the feel of a delicate brush in his hand. If he got the job at the bar, the first thing Nik was going to do after he’d moved out and repaid Alaric for his kindness was to buy himself a new set of paints.

His last set had been left behind in his rush to flee New Orleans.

The tiramisu looked divine when placed in front of him, even better than the second glass of wine he’d gotten. “I’m so full I don’t know where I’ll put this,” he mused aloud, grin on his face. “This is the best I’ve eaten in weeks. Who knew that all it would take to get me to eat something other than pizza, was a night out with you?”

–––––

Liv:

“Let’s do that,” Liv said. “Hmm. Me stuff. Why not. I did a bit of everything, standard for year degree, majors in folklore and sociology. Folklore was a blast. My professor was an Indiana Jones type – hey, come to think of it, Ric reminds me a bit of him… anyway. It was technically part of the anthropology department, but he knew his shit. Didn’t have magic of his own – again, lke Ric – but he studies hard. The night after our final exam half the class drove to the country to do this big ritual. I couldn’t help myself, had to throw in some special effects… it was fun. He was a good guy. And sociology is just the thing for an angry young feminist with major daddy issues to cut her teeth on. College was fun. I would have liked to go to grad school, but running away meant running away from the money, too, and besides, he’d find me.”

She frowned. “Eugh, all roads lead to daddy issues. Never mind. I also did a bit of theater. It’s fun. I can sing, a bit, as long as I don’t have to carry the main tune or anything…”

Liv liked the idea of Nik with a paintbrush in his hand, though. “Yeah, you really need to do something about that. Witches gotta witch, and artists gotta art. Just like Alaric’s gotta… drink bourbon and bone Damon. Can’t go against your essential nature or everything gets thrown out of balance.”

She tucked into the tiramisu with an unimpressed expression thrown at Nik.

“At the risk of sounding like an old Italian lady… you gotta eat. I think you’ll find room.” A little tiramisu on his bones would do him a world of good. The dessert was good – and boozy. Liv tossed her hair over her shoulder again; she didn’t want mascarpone clogging the tips. “Any time you need fattening up, I’m your girl.”

That didn’t sound quite right… also, witches fattening people up tended to result in cannibalism. Liv shrugged it off.

“You think they’ll be gone long? This seems like a weird hobby. Collecting cursed objects. You know we’re all completely fucked if Ric every goes darkside. Not that I’d ever invade his personal space… but there’s some very dangerous stuff in that vault. Properly boxed up – I really need to find out where he gets his curse boxes. But dangerous. There’s a necklace down there that will decapitate the wearer. Does he do this a lot?”

–––––

Nik:

The waitperson was trying to be unobtrusive, but Nik could sense restlessness. When she finally worked up the nerve to put the check down, he already had his card ready and passed it over without any hesitation. They’d taken up enough of her table space, and there was a steady line at the door. He wasn’t selfish enough to keep people waiting.

Even if he did want to continue talking to Liv.

Nik did find room for the tiramisu, though he thought she might have to carry him out of the restaurant.

“As for Alaric and Damon,” he said, picking up where they left off right before the waitress came over with the check, “I think they’ll be gone long enough to get whatever it is they are looking for, break a hotel bed, and figure out that what they’re doing isn’t quite a casual as they’d like to think.”

He grinned, glad someone was happy at least.

“Let me walk you home?” Nik wasn’t going to take no for an answer, even if she said no. He envisioned himself skulking along behind her in the shadows to watch out for vampires and other assorted nastiness. (And then promptly shut that line of thought down, because he was the one sounding like the creeper.)

They left the restaurant, and Nik passed over his jacket once more. “I don’t know how often he goes away, and I try to stay away from his…things. I really don’t want to be on the receiving end of some of those objects. I’ll leave that sort of heroics to the professionals.”

Walking in mostly silence after that, Nik followed beside her all the way to the door of her apartment and collected his jacket. “Goodnight, Olivia. Please tell Lorenzo that I said hello. I…had a wonderful time.” He ducked his head a bit shyly, awkwardness setting in, and then turned on his heels for the chilly walk back to the shop.

~COMPLETED THREAD

#v: open whenever #p: knight in glittering armor #moonoverbourbon #liv rp #all of us; & queue

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