#almost a week without updates is fucking me up how did i survive june and july the last two years

[aroaceofthesea]

Dont mind me i was just thinking how jonathan will never be free from this time loop until we are no longer his friends

[1358456]

Review Response, June 28 - July 4, 2020

Another week!

Destiny #020

1)  You say “imagine how happy they’d be!” But knowing you I’m pretty sure that’s not that direction you’re going in T_T Anyways, a stray thought came across my mind while reading this chapter. I’m around these some of these kids age right? With some definitely younger than me yet, if I were in their position, I would most likely have died on the first day... They’re truly the best of their world, huh? Imagine being that powerful. Beyond even their experiences, because even when they all first started their journey they were surely inexperienced and still faced many hardships without losing hope (or dying lmao). But they are after all, protagonists, and people don’t write stories about others who can’t survive something dangerous in the first place. One of these dangerous things being sacrifices! I swear to god, no one can every say chivalry is dead with these people. Constantly making sacrifices. I don’t consider myself all that selfish, but all they’re selflessness makes me think otherwise. What with Diamond putting himself in harm’s way for Platinum (although him, I can understand, he does love her and it *is* sort of his duty?) and Blue sacrificing her somewhat artificial happiness in the last chapter, and just so much more. Let me tell you, if I had seen zombies, I would have said fuck this and high tailed my way outta there. You’re on your own lady, I’m not turning into a cannibal by eating brains even when there’s legendaries band in order to escape someone would need to hold them back. Although what could one person do anyhow. The odds are just too high against them. Going back to stray thoughts, when you mentioned the ice shard near the end of the chapter the only thing that came across my mind was, “that fucking weavile again”. And lo behold! That fucking weavile again. For a guy having over 200 Pokémon with many different kinds of attacks, he sure does love using that one ice shard attack to ambush people. (Might I dare say that he’s... a simpleton at heart?!). Peter can go suck it tbh.

Well, I think that’s common in most anime/manga, right? The protagonists tend to survive things that they have no chance in surviving. And because of that, I try to ignore some of the realistic damages that would be done to them. If I try to keep things too realistic, everyone would die very quickly. Hehe.

Haha. Everyone for themselves in a zombie attack? Well, maybe if you had someone you’re devoted to, that might change. I think I would do what Diamond did, personally.

Ah, yes. The freaking Weavile. The Mega Hunter is based on a real life friend who may or may not still be in Pokemon Special Discord, so the Pokemon he uses in Destiny are pretty much what he has in his game files, using combos that he uses in the games. Like that Eruption all-in. Motherf*cking Eruption all-in... Anyways. The Weavile is his anti-sweep guy. It’s his contingency Pokemon in case his opponent used Dragon Dance or Quiver Dance one too many times and is in danger of sweeping the entire team. Fake Out for free damage. Then Ice Punch or Knock Off on the turn it takes a hit and survives with Focus Sash, and if that’s not enough, Ice Shard afterwards. And usually the Ice Shard does enough, especially if the boosted Pokemon is not resistant to Ice. And because of that, if he’s not using a dedicated all-in team, the Weavile is ALWAYS THERE. So... freaking Weavile, indeed.

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Destiny #021

1)  I mean, damn. I can hardly blame her for her decision, it’s actually a little genius. Betraying trust for either side would be awful for Blue (even though Peter was *technically* the one to kill Silver, but FINE Blue whatever) and so... why not just give up the chance of both? Until she comes to the realization that stepping out would actually be betraying both sides, which would probably make her feel worse. I wonder what it will be that makes Blue join the Dexholder’s side? It’s gotta be in just a little while. I can’t see her changing her mind too quickly, but at at least in the next 15 chapters, I think? That’s a large gap. And maybe it’ll be Green who finds her and finally manages to convince her to fight. Well, we’ll just have to see. But regarding Silver... I had no idea he would die. It makes a bit of sense now, since he did not have a lot of screen time (? Fic time? Or maybe just focus..). And this actually kind of surprises me because I would have imagined that you’d take the opportunity to hit it where it hurts (no judgement it’s a writer thing to do), which then makes me realize you probably will... but who? My bets are on Diamond. That would hurt admittedly. And you said three deaths, right? Then either Black or White (not just because they’re from a different generation, but because one of them would die right after finding each other again). But then I also remember you seeing “no more than”, so it might just be two. No joke tho, when Platinum stepped into the graveyard I’d been ready to bet 500 in cold hard cash that Diamond was brainwashed. Had there been anyone to bet with me I could have boughten a PlayStation 4 for myself.

Ah, poor Blue. Declaring neutrality after losing all hope in life... but she’s not truly allowed to be neutral... ... 15 chapters? Heh. That’s FAR too long. If she’s left to herself and so she has to rely on her mood steadily improving, then yes, it would probably take 15 chapters or something. But if she was to be... shocked out of her state...

And if memory serves... this was the chapter I wrote while I was in the hospital after getting stabbed. And I had to type with one hand because I couldn’t move my left after that incident. That was... almost 5 years ago. Damn.

Hehe. Silver used up his screen time to increase someone else’s screen time. Hitting where it hurts? ... Well, I do that at times. But I also hit where it doesn’t hurt at times. In short, I just hit. ... Sounds awful in and out of context. Hmm... Three deaths, huh? Well, I remember saying that in early Destiny. But I also remember saying that I retract that statement later on, upping the max death count from 3 to unspecified. “It might just be two”. Ohohoho!

Hehe. Oh, you are right before the chapter that has the critical scene which helped create Destiny in the first place. And I eagerly await your reaction. Huhuhu...

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DE #031

1)  This is extremely cute. Moar of this pairing pls

... You know, I almost forgot that I wrote that pairing.

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Still at 3, huh? 7500 words. It never ceases to amaze me how disappointed I can get with every story update.

[olliexjames]

Prison Break | Amber & Ollie

when: june 28th, 2020

where: bridgeport correctional center (level 4 high security prison); bridgeport, connecticut 

trigger warnings: prison, mentions of murder, mentions of neglect, lots of sad feels

nb: from a discussion that they had months ago, amber-jade finally decides that she’s (somewhat) ready to confront her father after all these years. considering that ollie knows the most about her past, and that story, she asks him to come along. the two fly from california to connecticut to visit her father in a high security correctional facility, and amber sees her father for the first time in years, and ollie meets the one man he could very confidently say he really hates

(ooc): this is an ongoing chatzy, and will be updated as we go along.

@amberjade-rhodes

Amber had spent a lot of time thinking about what Ollie had said about confronting her dad, which lead to her impulsively booking tickets to Connecticut just a couple of weeks after Fathers Day. Her anxiety levels rose the entire time that she and Ollie were in transit and by the time they arrived at the prison complex, her hands were physically shaking. “How... how mad are you going to be if I chicken out now and can’t go in?” Amber asked nervously, her voice breaking slightly as her eyes darted between Ollie and the gates of the prison.

Ollie didn't hesitate to say yes when Amber asked for him to go with her when visiting her father in prison. He knew what this meant, and he knew just how big of a deal this way for Amber; and there was no way in hell he was going to let her go through this alone. The two had landed and made their way straight to the prison. He rented a car for the two to use while in the state, thinking that it would be better than for spending loads of money on Uber's. The two had made their way out of the car, and basically right in front of the gates before he was stopped by the other. "AJ, hey, look at me." he requested in a soft voice, placing his hands on either side of her face, keeping her head in place and forcing her to look up at him. "Breathe." he requested once more, giving her a friendly smile. "If there's anyone who can do this right now, it's you. Remember why you're here -- for some closure. To say what you need to say to him and get the hell out of there, no more no less." he reminded, continuing to look at her as he spoke. "I'll be right by your side the entire time, I'll even go in with you when they let you in to see him, if you want me to. You don't have to do this alone, like he's probably assuming that you are...but if you're really, genuinely, not ready for this say the word and we'll get back in the car and go back to the airport."

Amber didn't hesitate for a second before looking at her oldest friend, focusing all of her attention on him as opposed to the looming infrastructure that was right there. It was crazy to think that this was where her father had been housed for all these years; and that she had a visit booked to see him this morning. "Breathe... right, yes, I can do that", Amber confirmed, focusing on her breathing as directed. "Closure", she repeated quietly. "I... I'm here for closure, because I want to know why he did what he did. I want him to know how he damn near ruined my life, that the only good thing that came from his actions was you. I want him to know that I'll never completely recover from what he did", she said, listing off the reasons why she had finally decided to come to Connecticut, like that would help her get through the rest of this. "We've come this far, we can't go back to MU without walking through those gates. Do you promise that you won't leave my side, not even to go to the bathroom? I don't want to be alone with him, I can't be alone with him. I... I added your name to the booking before we even got here, which was awfully rude and presumptuous on my part so I'm sorry for that", she rambled nervously.

Ollie nodded as she spoke, still looking at her and giving her a faint smile. "Closure." he simply repeated back. Ollie had already been prepared, both physically and mentally, to be be whatever Amber needed him to be in that moment. "I promise I'm not going to leave you alone, not again. I told you that you didn't have to go through this alone, and I meant that. Don't apologize, I can't wait to meet daddy dearest." he rolled his eyes at the thought, kissing the top of her head before pulling her into a warm hug. "If there's anyone who can do this right now, it's you. We've been through hell and back, and you went through even more hell after I left. You can get through this, and you will get through this." he pointed out, pulling away and yet keeping his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them gently. "I'm ready whenever you are."

Amber was aware that she might not get the closure that she wanted through this trip; that her father could easily slash that hope if he really wanted too. Still, she knew that she would survive the trip; especially considering she had Ollie by her side. He was the person who knew the most about her family and the person that she most trusted in this world, meaning that it made perfect sense to have asked him to come with her. "No punching daddy dearest, I didn't bring you here so that you could end up behind closed bars with him. I need you too much for you to get locked up too". Her comment was said in a light tone, almost as if she was joking, but she did feel like the overprotective side of Ollie could use a reminder. "Thank you, Oliver. I really don't think that I could have done this without you. I've always been braver when you're around", she murmured, unbuckling her seatbelt and slowly getting out of the car. "Let's go in before I change my mind".

Ollie couldn't have been more proud of Amber-Jade than he was in this very moment. He didn't say it much, but he honestly looked up to her a lot. She never gave herself enough credit, but even Ollie could tell just how resilient and strong she was. She was someone who went through a lot in her life, and Ollie would be lying if he said he wasn't damn proud to see her overcome everything that got in her way. They were two of the more successful stories in this case, as a lot of people who grew up in the system at that age were either in and out of jail, or dead. "At least you know it's pretty much a guarantee that his life in there would be a living hell if I'm in there with him." he stated only half-jokingly. He had already told himself to be on his best behavior, so she didn't have anything to worry about; although he did wish that they weren't in a facility full of correctional officers, or in a facility such as a prison in general. Hearing her next words, Ollie smiled and gave her a nod - his way of nonverbally telling her that the feeling was mutual. Finally turning off the car, he made his way out and walked up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and shook her playfully as the two walked. "Remember who the fuck you are when you get in there." he stated, massaging her shoulders as he continued to walk directly behind her. "You're fucking Amber-Jade Rhodes. Future social worker, killer softball player and boxer. You've been through the unimaginable and have made it out alive and stronger each and every time. We've been broken down, mistreated, neglected, and abused and we still made it out on the other side. You made it out on the other side. You're not some kid in the system anymore, you are highly educated, hardworking, and a fighter - and that's more than he'll ever be. You aren't that kid in the system, you aren't the group home, you aren't the drugs, and you aren't him. Remember that this doesn't define you - that he doesn't define and determine who you are, or who you will be in this life." He whispered a small pep talk as he continued to walk behind her, kind of as if he had been guiding her through the gates and into the building, while also preventing her from trying to make a break for it.

As much as she loved Ollie, as much as she considered him her best friend, there were some things that she couldn't tell him; things that would utterly break him and never allow him to move past the overwhelming guilt that he felt when it came to her. She would never be able to tell him the truth of just how bad things got in NYC after he left; and she had never told him the full extent of Joel's actions during her childhood, knowing that her best friend wouldn't hesitate to kill her father if he was ever released from prison. "I don't want that guarantee, I want you in California with me; not in some stupid prison in Connecticut", Amber said firmly. She focused on her breathing and the feeling of Ollie's hands on her shoulders as the two of them walked into the prison, trying to keep herself as calm as possible as she prepared to see her father for the first time in years. "Don't make me cry before we even get in there, Oliver James! My mascara cannot be running down my cheeks when I see Joel, I will not allow him to think that he made me cry before I even saw him. Thank you, though, for all the kind words. You make me feel braver and stronger than anyone else in my life and I love you for it. Thank you for always seeing me as some sort of superhero rather than a fucked up woman whose just putting one step in front of the other and hoping desperately that I won't fuck everything up", she said sincerely as the two of them walked into the prison. She showed her ID to the prison officer before starting to fill in the paperwork that he pointed her too.

"Relax, I'm only joking. Prison would've been the easier option a couple of years ago, but I actually kind of like my life now." Ollie said honestly. It's sad that there was once a time where he wouldn't have mind getting locked up for a few years since being in jail seemed like an easier option than going through some of the stuff he went through. He laughed as she yelled at him for making her emotional, kissing the top of her head as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a hug from behind. "Hey, no softness right now. We weren't soft until we got to MU, and I blame Lola for that." He joked lightly, releasing a soft laugh before continuing. "You're a badass and you're going to march right in there and show him who the fuck you are, and the amazing person you've become. You need to go in bitch mode right now, I'm merely just like the backup generator in case you crap out. But you got this, AJ." He attempted to continue hyping her up, his statement being a weird way of him telling her he also loved her. He showed his ID to the correctional officer and filled out some forms before he got one of those visitor sticker passed to place on his shirt. There was a loud buzzing as the door became unlocked, meaning that the officer was officially letting them in to lead them to the visiting area. Ollie's green eyes darting between the unlocked steel door and his friend, looking down and giving her a small smile. "Ready?"

Despite the current circumstances, Amber found herself smiling softly at Ollie when he admitted that he liked his life now. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, you deserve some happiness after all the crap that life has thrown at you", Amber told him, genuinely meaning it. She truly wanted the best for Ollie, especially after everything that he had done for her over the duration of their friendship. "Lola basically saved my life, I can forgive her for making me a corny, sentimental mess", she jokingly retorted, focusing on calming her breathing as she listened to Ollie's pep-talk. "And if he doesn't give me what I need, what I came here for, I'm going to be okay. It's not going to break me". She was saying those words to convince herself just as much as she was trying to convince Ollie. It didn't take long for them to get through the sign in process and before long, she and Ollie were sitting at one of the tables in the visitors section. As her father was apparently a model prisoner, he didn't have to use one of the non-contact visit rooms; something that actually kind of saddened and panicked her as it meant that there were no barriers between them. "Ready as I'll ever be", she confirmed, discreetly taking Ollie's hand under the table; her body stiffening as she saw the doors open and her father walking towards her. He looked a little older and had put on some weight since she had last seen him; and his eyes actually looked softer and more gentle than she remembered, probably because he wasn't impaired by illicit substances and screaming at her or her mother. Despite the differences, it was definitely him. "That's Joel", she whispered quietly to Ollie although it wasn't really necessary as the older man was making a beeline for their table. Unlike the other visitors, Amber-Jade didn't get to her feet to hug him in greeting; and didn't speak until he had sat down opposite her. AJ, it's so good to see you. I'm so glad that you finally came to visit, I was worried that I would never see you again; especially when you never returned any of my letters. For a second, she lost the ability to speak; just staring at the man who had taken so much from her.

"And so do you, AJ. We both deserve to have some happiness for once in our life." Ollie stated in a genuine tone. The two had been through so much in their life, more than what a typical person would be able to handle in an entire lifetime; and yet, they were still standing. But still, it was a lot - and even they deserved some happiness in their life after getting hit after hit, blow after blow. "Yes, and I love how corny and sentimental she is, it's what made me fall in love with her...but no softness right now. Hard exteriors only, we can cry and be soft once we get back to the airport." He said only jokingly, smiling although she couldn't see it in that moment. Even he noticed that her breathing was a bit more controlled than it had been just moments before, showing that maybe he was doing something right. "It's not going to break you, because you know that at least you came and tried to get some closure. You won't be living in the 'what if' after this, you won't wonder what could've happened if you just came, because you will sure as hell know in about an hour. He broke you once, Amber, don't let him do it again. He doesn't the right to break you anymore." He said in a quiet voice. Ollie didn't know how to feel in that moment, especially when the CO walked them to an open visiting area. He really was about to become face to face with the man that ruined Amber's child hood; he really was going to be just a few feet away from the man he's never even seen a picture of, let alone met, and yet the man that Ollie's felt the most rage towards. Ollie had planned to just be a fly on the wall, to just be there and not say a word, to just be there for moral support. The fact that they were in an open area kind of changed that, though; now, he felt his walls building, those protective walls that he had whenever becoming face to face with potential danger and/or hostility...but for her. Ollie shyly smiled to himself as Amber discreetly took his hand under the table; he squeezed and held onto her hand, his thumb gently grazing over the soft skin as a means of providing the other some comfort. Noticing how stiff the others body had become, Ollie immediately looked up, his brows furrowing in concern. His green eyes darted back and forth between the taller male and the redhead, and he just knew that he was her father. Ollie took a closer look at him, and he could see the resemblance; Amber did take on a few of his features. Her stating that it was Joel was just the nail in the coffin, further confirming that the male was exactly who Ollie thought he was. His eyes grew dark as the older male took a seat across from them, the muscles in his face further tensing when Joel began talking to her. He waited for a moment. Fly on the wall, you are a fly on the wall. This isn't about you, this is about her - he continued to repeat to himself, kind of a like a mantra. He turned his head to look at the redhead, just to notice that she had gone completely blank. Letting out a soft sigh, he turned his head back towards the other male. "I'm Oliver. I've known your daughter for, what...eight years now?" He stated in a neutral tone, knowing that him going off would just further trigger his friend. "We met in the group home when she was first placed into state care and looked have looked after each other ever since. She's quite something special, no thanks to you."

"I'm so glad that you've started to find your happiness", Amber-Jade told him. She knew that Ollie still had issues that he was working through but seeing him at MU was such a relief for her as she finally knew where he had ended up; and that he was not only okay but actually happy. "Considering everything she's been through, her softness is pretty fucking amazing. I've got it, though; no crying until we've left the prison". She very rarely cried but she had a feeling that she wouldn't be completely in control of her emotions today; after all, this was a very heightened and confronting experience for her. "He doesn't have the right to break me", she repeated, whispering the words to herself over and over like a mantra as she braced herself for what she was about to experience. It was certainly embarrassing that her first response to seeing her father was to freeze entirely but she found herself squeezing Ollie's hand tightly as he jumped in; covering for her so that it wasn't obvious to Joel that he was having such a huge effect on her right now. When Ollie finished speaking, she finally found her voice. "I don't know how you keep finding my address and why you insist on continuing to write to me even though I've never replied. I'm not sure if it's some sick game that you're playing but it certainly seems that way, especially when none of your letters are actually an apology or an explanation; rather a way of painting yourself as the victim. I'm here to give you a chance to explain everything, the actual truth of it all, rather than just pleading accounts that beg for me to defend you in front of the parole board. After that, I will decide what I'm going to do with that information but from this point forwards, everything is going to be on my terms. You don't get to call the shots anymore, this is my life and I refuse to allow you to try and control it from afar".

"I was really able to find it once you came back into my life. You have no idea how crappy these last couple of years have been without you." Ollie said with a soft smile. It was true, he mainly found himself really being happy once he had bumped into Amber back in February. Her returning back into his life meant that he had everything, that everything was finally okay. He had a girlfriend he loved with everything in him, he had friends who actually cared for him, and now he had his best friend - someone he practically grew up with, and someone who knew him almost better than anyone. Ollie didn't want her father to feel as though he had a hold of her life anymore, even if he did. He could feel his protective side come out, but even then, he knew that this would be very emotional for her. That's why he was mentally prepared to deal with whatever emotions that came after this reunion. He couldn't fight the smirk that his lips turned into when she finally was able to find her own voice. He gave her hand a small squeeze before looking over at her and giving her a soft, comforting smile - nonverbally letting her know that she was doing great so far. Once she was done speaking, Ollie looked back over towards the older male that sat across the table from them, his eyes immediately turning cold and distant. "You've been wanting her to talk to you for years now...well, she's here. So I would start talking before her patience runs out, and trust me, we will not be making another trip back here." Ollie stated in a calm, yet cool tone. He didn't want the other to get the impression that he can just waste their time, waste her time. She needed answers, and this wasn't the time for her father to play any games with her mind and heart - he wasn't going to allow that by any means.

"I have some idea. After all, I've been without you for just as long". She knew that there would come a day where they had to sit down and actually talk about everything that had happened since that awful day in which Ollie was moved to Connecticut but she also knew that now wasn't the right time. Like Ollie, her life had drastically improved on that fateful day when they had run into each other on campus and now that he was back in her life again, she had no intention of ever losing him again. Her legs were trembling under the table on account of the significant amount of nerves currently coursing through her body and she genuinely felt like she might have thrown up or run away if it wasn't for Ollie sitting beside her, grounding her. Her father nodded his head at Ollie's cold words and immediately launched into his version of events.

He apologized for the pleading letters that he had been sending, telling AJ that he had recently discussed them with his therapist and realized that the letters were another form of emotional abuse; another way of trying to control AJ and control the narrative of their lives, even when she had made it clear that she didn't want anything to do with him. He talked about his own childhood, about his cold and domineering parents who had never really wanted children. His mother, who turned a blind eye to the fact that her husband spent more nights in Joel's bed than her own; and his father, who took everything from Joel when he was still too young to understand what was happening. He talked about meeting Audrey and how he thought he had loved her; how he had promised that he would be a better man than his own parents and would take care of Audrey and Amber-Jade. He talked about AJ's birth, about his heartbreak when he went away for a few nights and had come home to realize that his father had stayed with Audrey and AJ in his absence; and his guilt over what this may have meant. He talked about his descent into substance abuse to try and dilute some of those feelings, his rage and anger over everything in his life, especially when he was coming down from methamphetamines; and how Audrey had borne the brunt of this. He spoke about his affairs, his abusive behavior towards Audrey, his manipulation of her so that she started using too, his neglect of AJ. He disclosed the straw that broke the camel's back, of finding out that Audrey had been having an affair and was considering leaving him; and how this triggered the events of that fatal night, the night that ruined AJ's life forever. By the time he had finished talking, her eyes were burning and tears were rolling steadily down her cheeks. Her father's story had raised far more questions that it answered; questions about just what had happened to her in her early childhood; and she was utterly speechless.

Ollie simply just chuckled at her statement, giving a small nod. Those years between the time he left the group home to when the two reunited at Monarch truly had been some of the worst of his life; the exception being his girlfriend. He hadn't been ready to speak much about it in that moment, but while every one thought he was getting a second chance he may or may not have deserved, those years really just felt lonely, and were full of feelings of depression and anxiety - leaving him in a dark place that even now he tried to run away from. This wasn't the time to speak about that, though, but maybe one day - maybe.

He could practically feel the girls leg continue to bounce up and down, so much so if he didn't know any better he would think she was about to fall out of her seat and make a run for it. Because of that, he found himself placing his hand back on top of hers under the table, gently squeezing it, nonverbally telling her that she didn't have to be afraid; that he was here and wouldn't ever allow anything bad come to her. Ollie's green eyes continued to darken, mixed with emotions of anger, despair, confusion, and oddly enough - some sadness for the man. As someone who could relate to childhood sexual abuse, Ollie really did feel for him, but those feelings were immediately taken back by anger once again. There really was no excuse for what he did to Amber's mom, what he did to Amber. He found himself speechless by the time the other man was done, not that he had any place to have an opinion to begin with; but he could feel his friend's emotions, and knew she had been crying despite the fact he hadn't even been looking at her. His eyes went from staring at the table to look back up at the man he truly couldn't stand, getting a better view of him before attempting to speak. He grew speechless once again, having nothing to say to the man, but instead looking towards Amber and leaning in slightly. "Are you okay?" he said in a whispered tone, but still loud enough for her father to hear.

Amber-Jade's head was a complete mess right now. For the first time in her life, she actually felt a shred of pity for her father. She found herself questioning why her mom had bothered to tell Joel about the affair and hadn't simply packed their bags and left; only to feel angry and disappointed in herself for that line of thought. More than anything, though, she was questioning what had happened to her. How many times had her grandfather stayed at their home without Joel being aware of it? Was there a possibility that she had been hurt in the same way as her father? She knew that the child protection system was completely fucked and that her life in the group home wasn't a massive improvement over residing with her family, yet how could a system that was supposed to care for children leave her in such a fucked up place for so long? The more that she listened to Joel talk, the more that she realized one fundamental truth -- whilst Ollie had come into the system after a freak accident, she had been destined for it. She hadn't done anything to deserve this, rather had the misfortune of being born into a life characterized by substance abuse, infidelities, neglect, domestic abuse and now possibly sexual abuse too. "I... I think I need to leave", the redhead said quietly. She had intended on confronting her father, of telling him how much he had destroyed her life, but the anger had drained from her body; instead replaced by complete and utter exhaustion that she felt down to her bones. Raising her voice slightly so that Joel knew that she was talking to him, she opened her mouth and said one final thing to him. "I came to tell you that I hated you for everything that you had done to me, that you had done to mom. I was just a child and you were supposed to take care of me, you were both supposed to take care of me. Instead, you just fucked me up in ways that you can't even imagine... the things that I had to do in order to survive because of your actions aren't things that I can take back and they messed me up even further. Y-you couldn't even let me have that moment, though. You had to murky the water with your story, you had to make me question the only things about my life that I thought I knew. I don't know why I expected anything different from a manipulative, destructive man like yourself".

Ollie could his heart pounding against his chest and his blood boil. He was heartbroken for his dear friend, for knowing that something more could’ve possibly had happened to her and it was very possible she could always live in the “what if”. But more than anything he was angry; he was angry that someone would ever allow all of these things to happen to their kid; angry that nobody protected her; angry that the state and the foster care system had failed her before she even entered the system. Hearing her say that she thought it was best to go, Ollie allowed her to say whatever she needed to say before taking action. Placing his arms onto the table, he leaned in slightly. “You’re done reaching out her. No more letters of begging and pleading for her to come see you and forgive you, because your sorry ass doesn’t deserve any sort of sympathy, let alone forgiveness.” He began his voice low and cold. He paused for a moment, taking in the older man’s face by getting a real good look at it, a face that he would personally never forget. “Take one more good look at her because this is it. Go back to your cell and rot like the piece of shit you are, and pray to god that you don’t ever get out on parole.” He added, his voice continuing to be cold and distant, the only emotion being shown in that moment being pure anger. Leaning back, he look towards the redhead, offering her his hand to take for support. “Ready to go?”

Amber-Jade got to her feet whilst Ollie made it clear to her father that he wasn't to reach out to her any longer; and the letters must stop immediately. It was an old defense mechanism that she had relied on heavily over the years and one that she knew wasn't exactly healthy, yet she could still feel herself shutting down as a result of the conversation with her father. It was like the walls around her heart were being rebuilt brick by brick; and she was forcing herself to feel numb, to shut down her emotions so that this didn't break her. "Ready", Amber-Jade said quietly, taking his hand as the two of them left the prison. It didn't take them long to hand their visitor passes back in and sign out of the prison, although the entire process was a blur to the redhead on account of her current emotional state. She didn't say another word until the two of them were back in the car that Ollie hired. "Can we please go back to the motel? I need a hot shower and I need to sleep", she said, her voice hollow even to her own ears.

[easyfoodnetwork]

On the Day We Reopened Our Restaurant, We Had to Close It Again

A booth at Guerrilla Tacos | Colin Wolf

We spent a month preparing to safely reopen our restaurant. Five hours after opening our doors, the state made us close again.

This is Eater Voices, where chefs, restaurateurs, writers, and industry insiders share their perspectives about the food world, tackling a range of topics through the lens of personal experience. First-time writer? Don’t worry, we’ll pair you with an editor to make sure your piece hits the mark. If you want to write an Eater Voices essay, please send us a couple paragraphs explaining what you want to write about and why you are the person to write it to voices@eater.com.

It is July 1, 2020, a little after 8:30 a.m. In just a few hours, we are finally going to reopen our dining room for the first time since lockdown orders went into effect in Los Angeles on March 16. Since Day One of the lockdown, we have innovated and adapted to keep the lights on in our taco restaurant, with a small takeout and delivery operation that employed 10 percent of our original staff. Now, I’m excited and nervous; these are uncertain times and we never know what’s coming next.

At 8:36 a.m., I receive an email from the Independent Hospitality Coalition, a group of California hospitality industry workers that I belong to. “Hearing from our people that the governor is going to announce that restaurants in some counties (including LA) will be closing indoor dining rooms at his noon press conference today,” it says.

I immediately grab my chefs and managers and tell them the news. There is silence for a while, during which I think about everything we did to get to this day to reopen. My stomach drops and I begin to rant. They never should have let us open, I say. We all knew this was going to happen.

I text my good friend and mentor, Melissa, the director of operations at République. She tells me that she is hearing the same thing. République opened not long after restaurants were first told they could reopen on May 29, and even as one of the best-run restaurant operations in LA, it has been hard for them. People are not ready to eat out, and too many of those who are are not taking the masks and social distancing seriously.

So I ask myself: Now what do we do?

In the two weeks leading up to this morning, we did 32 full hours of training on new COVID-19 protocols and safety measures and the importance of taking the pandemic seriously. We updated our menu, purchased the PPE required for reopening safely, invested in training, redesigned the restaurant’s layout, and did construction to create more space and incorporate plexiglass dividers. I could see, even through their masks and face shields, that my staff was excited and comfortable about reopening, and to have jobs again. We were doing everything by the book and taking the time needed to do it right. We had hope!

And now, this morning, we still have a restaurant to open. But all I can do is wait for the governor’s press conference, which is still 90 minutes away.

At 10:45 a.m., our GM, Gretel, does the line-up as if nothing is wrong. Spirits are so high among our staff, and we don’t want to bring them down. But I can’t stop thinking about what’s going to come next.

At 11 a.m., I go hide in my office. My partner, Dan, arrives at the restaurant to console me. The staff was so excited, and now I’m going to have to furlough them all again. I can’t take it, and I start crying. For the last four months, I’ve been on the verge of a mental breakdown, and now I think Dan is concerned that this will push me over the edge.

When LA County told us that restaurants could reopen on May 29, I also heard the news from my friends in the Independent Hospitality Coalition. I didn’t believe them: There was no way we could reopen without any warning. Well, I was dead wrong — we were given the green light to reopen on the “honor system,” meaning that if we followed all of the county’s guidelines and safety rules, we could open that same night.

Less than an hour after the announcement, I got a message from my landlord’s broker. “Congratulations on being able to reopen,” he said. My heart sank as my mind translated his message into: “Send the check when you can!”

Shortly after, I was on a call with the Independent Hospitality Coalition. No one I spoke with was feeling ready to reopen. Our dining rooms had turned into dry storage, our staff was furloughed. But our members were already driving past restaurants that had reopened, hastily “complying” with the guidelines. How could anyone have done it safely in 24 hours? We knew this was a problem: With no lead-in time to prepare, restaurant operators were being rewarded for rushing to open, and their prize was making as much money as quickly as possible.

I wanted to stay closed. However, as other restaurants began to open their dining rooms and people grew more eager to leave the house, our takeout business started to fall steeply. With our PPP funds drying up, I had to make the call to reopen as safely as humanly possible. As we began preparing, the team spent so much time thinking about our customers and our staff: How do we keep them safe? How do we behave as responsible members of our community?

With no lead-in time to prepare, restaurant operators were being rewarded for rushing to open, and their prize was making as much money as quickly as possible.

But even as we were holding ourselves to this standard, we had empathy for the operators who had just rolled the dice and said “fuck it” and decided to open. It is desperate times for restaurants, and many of us feel as though we have no choice: As operators, we work 12- to 14-hour days and typically haven’t been able to pool enough of our time or financial resources to be in the back pocket of the politicians making decisions.

Now, as I wait for the governor’s announcement, I ask myself what’s changed since May 29. Back then, our county didn’t meet any of the state’s requirements for reopening. And we still don’t. I feel completely abandoned by our leaders, and like we’ve lost for trying to comply and be as safe and careful as possible.

Recently, there was a bill in the California State Senate that really could have made a restaurant industry comeback possible during COVID-19: SB 939. It basically required landlords to enter rent renegotiations with tenants, and it would have given tenants and small businesses leverage to walk away without consequence if they couldn’t make it work. Members of the IHC, myself included, reached out to state senators, and many spoke with us. But when the bill reached the appropriations committee in late June, it was killed by real estate groups with money. Before the committee voted on the bill, we could not even get a Zoom meeting with state Sen. Anthony J. Portantino, its LA-based chair. We — the small businesses that employ almost half of California’s citizens and are on the ground trying to work with our landlords — mattered too little to him. When IHC contacted him after the bill died, he said he had no clue that landlords were not negotiating with tenants. We’ve since met with many politicians who have echoed the same sentiment: They truly believe that most landlords are working with tenants. In my experience, this is not the case.

Our elected officials’ total lack of consideration for a whole industry is unforgivable; anyone who loves going to restaurants or grabbing a drink after work should be pissed. If I was feeling petty, I would suggest every restaurant refuse service to politicians. Instead, I’m focusing on the Restaurants Act, a new bill being proposed in the Senate in Washington D.C. that could save us; it would establish a $120 billion relief fund that would be used to provide grants to independent restaurants. My true hope is that we can mobilize the restaurant industry to get it passed. Enjoying good food is a bipartisan issue.

As a woman of color, it feels wrong to be upset about this, given the systemic racist bullshit that is being protested around the country, and the basic equality and liberty that some of us are denied as its citizens. I am pulled back and forth between being upset as an operator and being upset as a non-Black person of color.

At 12 p.m., I listen to the governor confirm the earlier rumors: Restaurants are closed again.

Again, I ask myself, what do I do now? I am just out here trying to survive, trying to build generational wealth, trying to employ a great team of people. I am angry. As a woman, I am angry. As a small business owner, I am angry. As a non-Black person of color, I am angry. There is no winning for the little guys. We are under the boot of big business, politicians with price tags, and a system that has set us up to fail. Before the pandemic, it was easy to ignore these long-standing truths; I was busy and hustling. But now, it is impossible. And it’s one reason that Dina Samson, the co-owner of Rossoblu, and I, have been working on a project we tried to start before the pandemic: a guide to help educate our local leaders on how difficult it is to operate a restaurant in the city and how they can help. The pandemic has forced us to make time to do it.

At 4 p.m., we close our dining room. After a month of planning, it was open for five hours. We’re back to where we were before May 29, but now with less funds, too much inventory, and the dashed hopes of 45 people.

At 4:34 p.m., the chefs, managers, and I are sitting around a table. We’ve been here twice before: when the lockdown orders were announced in March, and when the dine-in orders were announced in May. We’ll adapt again. We always do.

At 6:13 p.m., the managers call our employees to furlough them again.

Brittney Valles is the longtime managing partner of Guerrilla Tacos, a restaurant in Los Angeles.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3jAZKpk https://ift.tt/30w5Cat

A booth at Guerrilla Tacos | Colin Wolf

We spent a month preparing to safely reopen our restaurant. Five hours after opening our doors, the state made us close again.

This is Eater Voices, where chefs, restaurateurs, writers, and industry insiders share their perspectives about the food world, tackling a range of topics through the lens of personal experience. First-time writer? Don’t worry, we’ll pair you with an editor to make sure your piece hits the mark. If you want to write an Eater Voices essay, please send us a couple paragraphs explaining what you want to write about and why you are the person to write it to voices@eater.com.

It is July 1, 2020, a little after 8:30 a.m. In just a few hours, we are finally going to reopen our dining room for the first time since lockdown orders went into effect in Los Angeles on March 16. Since Day One of the lockdown, we have innovated and adapted to keep the lights on in our taco restaurant, with a small takeout and delivery operation that employed 10 percent of our original staff. Now, I’m excited and nervous; these are uncertain times and we never know what’s coming next.

At 8:36 a.m., I receive an email from the Independent Hospitality Coalition, a group of California hospitality industry workers that I belong to. “Hearing from our people that the governor is going to announce that restaurants in some counties (including LA) will be closing indoor dining rooms at his noon press conference today,” it says.

I immediately grab my chefs and managers and tell them the news. There is silence for a while, during which I think about everything we did to get to this day to reopen. My stomach drops and I begin to rant. They never should have let us open, I say. We all knew this was going to happen.

I text my good friend and mentor, Melissa, the director of operations at République. She tells me that she is hearing the same thing. République opened not long after restaurants were first told they could reopen on May 29, and even as one of the best-run restaurant operations in LA, it has been hard for them. People are not ready to eat out, and too many of those who are are not taking the masks and social distancing seriously.

So I ask myself: Now what do we do?

In the two weeks leading up to this morning, we did 32 full hours of training on new COVID-19 protocols and safety measures and the importance of taking the pandemic seriously. We updated our menu, purchased the PPE required for reopening safely, invested in training, redesigned the restaurant’s layout, and did construction to create more space and incorporate plexiglass dividers. I could see, even through their masks and face shields, that my staff was excited and comfortable about reopening, and to have jobs again. We were doing everything by the book and taking the time needed to do it right. We had hope!

And now, this morning, we still have a restaurant to open. But all I can do is wait for the governor’s press conference, which is still 90 minutes away.

At 10:45 a.m., our GM, Gretel, does the line-up as if nothing is wrong. Spirits are so high among our staff, and we don’t want to bring them down. But I can’t stop thinking about what’s going to come next.

At 11 a.m., I go hide in my office. My partner, Dan, arrives at the restaurant to console me. The staff was so excited, and now I’m going to have to furlough them all again. I can’t take it, and I start crying. For the last four months, I’ve been on the verge of a mental breakdown, and now I think Dan is concerned that this will push me over the edge.

When LA County told us that restaurants could reopen on May 29, I also heard the news from my friends in the Independent Hospitality Coalition. I didn’t believe them: There was no way we could reopen without any warning. Well, I was dead wrong — we were given the green light to reopen on the “honor system,” meaning that if we followed all of the county’s guidelines and safety rules, we could open that same night.

Less than an hour after the announcement, I got a message from my landlord’s broker. “Congratulations on being able to reopen,” he said. My heart sank as my mind translated his message into: “Send the check when you can!”

Shortly after, I was on a call with the Independent Hospitality Coalition. No one I spoke with was feeling ready to reopen. Our dining rooms had turned into dry storage, our staff was furloughed. But our members were already driving past restaurants that had reopened, hastily “complying” with the guidelines. How could anyone have done it safely in 24 hours? We knew this was a problem: With no lead-in time to prepare, restaurant operators were being rewarded for rushing to open, and their prize was making as much money as quickly as possible.

I wanted to stay closed. However, as other restaurants began to open their dining rooms and people grew more eager to leave the house, our takeout business started to fall steeply. With our PPP funds drying up, I had to make the call to reopen as safely as humanly possible. As we began preparing, the team spent so much time thinking about our customers and our staff: How do we keep them safe? How do we behave as responsible members of our community?

With no lead-in time to prepare, restaurant operators were being rewarded for rushing to open, and their prize was making as much money as quickly as possible.

But even as we were holding ourselves to this standard, we had empathy for the operators who had just rolled the dice and said “fuck it” and decided to open. It is desperate times for restaurants, and many of us feel as though we have no choice: As operators, we work 12- to 14-hour days and typically haven’t been able to pool enough of our time or financial resources to be in the back pocket of the politicians making decisions.

Now, as I wait for the governor’s announcement, I ask myself what’s changed since May 29. Back then, our county didn’t meet any of the state’s requirements for reopening. And we still don’t. I feel completely abandoned by our leaders, and like we’ve lost for trying to comply and be as safe and careful as possible.

Recently, there was a bill in the California State Senate that really could have made a restaurant industry comeback possible during COVID-19: SB 939. It basically required landlords to enter rent renegotiations with tenants, and it would have given tenants and small businesses leverage to walk away without consequence if they couldn’t make it work. Members of the IHC, myself included, reached out to state senators, and many spoke with us. But when the bill reached the appropriations committee in late June, it was killed by real estate groups with money. Before the committee voted on the bill, we could not even get a Zoom meeting with state Sen. Anthony J. Portantino, its LA-based chair. We — the small businesses that employ almost half of California’s citizens and are on the ground trying to work with our landlords — mattered too little to him. When IHC contacted him after the bill died, he said he had no clue that landlords were not negotiating with tenants. We’ve since met with many politicians who have echoed the same sentiment: They truly believe that most landlords are working with tenants. In my experience, this is not the case.

Our elected officials’ total lack of consideration for a whole industry is unforgivable; anyone who loves going to restaurants or grabbing a drink after work should be pissed. If I was feeling petty, I would suggest every restaurant refuse service to politicians. Instead, I’m focusing on the Restaurants Act, a new bill being proposed in the Senate in Washington D.C. that could save us; it would establish a $120 billion relief fund that would be used to provide grants to independent restaurants. My true hope is that we can mobilize the restaurant industry to get it passed. Enjoying good food is a bipartisan issue.

As a woman of color, it feels wrong to be upset about this, given the systemic racist bullshit that is being protested around the country, and the basic equality and liberty that some of us are denied as its citizens. I am pulled back and forth between being upset as an operator and being upset as a non-Black person of color.

At 12 p.m., I listen to the governor confirm the earlier rumors: Restaurants are closed again.

Again, I ask myself, what do I do now? I am just out here trying to survive, trying to build generational wealth, trying to employ a great team of people. I am angry. As a woman, I am angry. As a small business owner, I am angry. As a non-Black person of color, I am angry. There is no winning for the little guys. We are under the boot of big business, politicians with price tags, and a system that has set us up to fail. Before the pandemic, it was easy to ignore these long-standing truths; I was busy and hustling. But now, it is impossible. And it’s one reason that Dina Samson, the co-owner of Rossoblu, and I, have been working on a project we tried to start before the pandemic: a guide to help educate our local leaders on how difficult it is to operate a restaurant in the city and how they can help. The pandemic has forced us to make time to do it.

At 4 p.m., we close our dining room. After a month of planning, it was open for five hours. We’re back to where we were before May 29, but now with less funds, too much inventory, and the dashed hopes of 45 people.

At 4:34 p.m., the chefs, managers, and I are sitting around a table. We’ve been here twice before: when the lockdown orders were announced in March, and when the dine-in orders were announced in May. We’ll adapt again. We always do.

At 6:13 p.m., the managers call our employees to furlough them again.

Brittney Valles is the longtime managing partner of Guerrilla Tacos, a restaurant in Los Angeles.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3jAZKpk via Blogger https://ift.tt/3juvagP

[gashinamoon]

Stuck With Each Other- an Olicity AU

Chapter 2

Rating: T

Words: 3065

Notes: Happy first day of June! Who else is a June bithday baby like me?

In true me fashion, you'll probably realise that although I said there was only going to be two chapters to this story, once again, it took on a mind of its own and now there's going to be 3. Maybe 4. We'll see. I'm just having so much fun with this!! And after reading, can you guess which classic trope is going to be in the next chapter??? ;)

Anyway! I hope you enjoy this! I'm still con-lagged (like jet lagged except after a convention, you know?) from HVFF over the weekend so any typos and grammar mistakes can be blamed on that. And the fact that I still don't have a beta. It's just me on my one woman team! Feel free to let me know your thoughts after you're done and if anyone wants to know any gossip from HVFF, feel free to follow me me on Twitter because its all I can talk about lately. Also! Precious little Emily Bett designed me a tattoo that I got done yesterday so you can see that on my Twitter too! I'm done rambling now... enjoy! 

Read on AO3

“Whoa, wait. How many of those are you ordering?"

"Six."

"Why six?"

"Well, three for me and three for you. This place closes in five minutes and I'm gonna need more than one coffee to make it through tonight without falling asleep on you. And I figured you needed that much too."

He stared at her, an almost bemused expression on his face.

"But of course you don't! You're probably not addicted to caffeine like I am and you look like you're already used to not getting any more than 2 hours sleep at night. Not that I'm saying you look tired. I mean, you do, but like, not in a bad way. Not in a bad way at all! Your face is totally not bad. Not bad at all…” She stared in horror at him as her brain caught up with what her mouth was saying. “Please feel free to stop me at any point! Any point right about 30 words ago would be perfect! Or just, you know, any point around the start of this entire conversation?”

Oliver laughed. He was laughing at her, again. Where was that metaphorical hole in the earth when she needed it?

"Maybe I'll just get two coffees," she smiled, embarrassed but feeling sort of warm inside. He had a nice laugh, even if hearing it was at her expense. "I don't think my brain needs anymore stimulating at the moment."

Oliver chuckled softly and leaned over the counter.

"We'll just take three coffees, please. Not six. I can pay by card, right?"

"Hey, wait! I'm paying! These are on me,"

"Felicity, it's fine. I won't miss 20 bucks,"

"Okay, but these are overpriced and you're only drinking one anyway! At least let me pay for my extra one,"

“Let me do something nice for you and buy these. Please?”

“Why do you want to do something nice for me?”

“Because this day was one of the most depressingly boring days in my entire life until you somehow ended up in it and I think that means I should buy you your coffee,” he smiled. “Please?”

God, he was cute. Like a little puppy. He definitely had eyes like a puppy. And usually guys had ulterior motives when they wanted to do something nice for her but Oliver had seemed genuine since the moment he started eavesdropping on her conversation. Which in itself was kind of ironic when she thought about it. Not to mention that if she said no, he’d probably annoy her about it until their flight finally did take off. He looked like the kind of person who could be extremely annoying beneath all the cute and she really didn't think she had the energy to put up with it.

“Fine. As long as you let me do something nice for you at some point tonight, okay?” She smiled, admitting defeat a lot quicker than she usually would. Felicity could be stubborn as hell when she wanted to be. “And thanks,” she added, gratefully.

Oliver returned her smile, except his smile looked more like the one of someone who’d just been offered a free round the world trip as he handed over his card to the cashier to ring up the coffees. Maybe she wasn't the only one who was so heavily influenced by sleep deprivation and lack of caffeine after all.

Speaking of caffeine… all of a sudden a piping hot cup of it was being handed to her and right then in that moment, she didn't care about her delayed flight or having embarrassed herself in front of two strangers in the last 15 minutes or the warnings on the news that the storm might cut out all the power in the city any second. She finally had her crappy cup of overpriced airport coffee and she was not letting anyone or anything ruin this moment for her.

“Do you want to sit down or- no, okay, you're just going to drink it right here,” Oliver said, but she barely heard him.

For a crappy and overpriced cup of airport coffee, she didn't think she’d ever tasted anything better. She didn't even care that it was kind of burning her mouth and throat as she gulped it down. She’d savour the second cup. This first cup was a matter of survival. She drank the first cup in 30 seconds flat, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand after swallowing the last gulp. Suddenly becoming aware of her surroundings and the fact that she’d acted like a complete freak in front of Oliver, she smiled sheepishly at him.

“That was amazing,” Oliver laughed. “I don't think I've ever seen anyone drink a burning hot cup of coffee quite so quickly before. I'm actually kind of worried. Are you sure you're okay?” He teased, leaning over and pressing his palm against her forehead in a gesture she assumed was him checking her temperature.

There go those nice hands again, Felicity thought to herself, fully enjoying the feel of them against her skin.

“I'm good. I'm fine. Kind of really warm and my throat is burning but still good. I really needed that,” she replied, trying to ignore the way her mouth was feeling and how suddenly lightheaded she’d become from the heat of her coffee warming her up so quickly when she hadn't even been cold to begin with.

Oliver gave her a strange look though, so she guessed she wasn't doing a great job of trying to look like she wasn't about to pass out.

“Are you okay?”

“Yup. Just a little dizzy. Is it me or is it really hot in here?” She asked, fanning herself with her hand, desperately trying to cool herself down.

“Maybe this second cup of coffee really isn't a good idea…”

“You're probably right,” she laughed nervously, feeling a little steadier than she had done a few seconds ago but not completely out of the woods yet.

“Lets go and sit down over there,” Oliver gestured to a small seating area a few metres away by a particularly sad looking water feature. “It's quieter than over by the flight gate and you look like you really need to sit down,”

Felicity nodded and didn't even question when he linked his arm through hers and guided her over towards the chair. She felt better, definitely capable of walking by herself, but she really wasn't about to refuse his arm if he wanted to help her. She even found herself leaning into him a little, and he took her weight with ease. Holding onto his forearm to steady herself now that she had committed to pretending she was about to faint, she noticed straight away how solid they were. So solid. She could picture perfectly how tanned and veiny they were underneath the long sleeves of his shirt. That thought almost made her feel dizzy again for real.

Once they were sitting down again, he looked over her worriedly.

“Are you sure you're okay? You really didn't look so good earlier,”

“I'm fine, I promise. I think I just drank that coffee too quickly,” she laughed, knowing that was the understatement of the week.

“I was worried you were going to pass out on me,”

“I'm sure you would've caught me,” Felicity replied, thinking again about his solid forearms, not even realising until the words were out of her mouth how excerpt-from-a-teenage-romance-novel she sounded.

She blushed. “Not that I meant anything by that. You just look… strong. Really strong,”

Oh god, why did everything she said somehow end up making everything worse?

Thankfully, by some grace of the google gods, she was saved by an announcement being made over the airport tannoy system.

“This is an announcement for passengers of flight 812 to Star City; the flight has been cancelled indefinitely due to severe weather conditions and we recommend that all passengers make overnight plans in a nearby hotel. Sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused. We will continue to update you all via text alerts or email on when the next available flight will be. Thank you for your patience.”

Around them, Felicity could hear a string of curses and groans and sighs, the former of which came from her own mouth.

“Ugh, fuck, I can't believe I actually have to stay here another night!”

Oliver laughed. “I never took you for someone who curses,”

Rolling her eyes Felicity sighed. “I don't usually. But this is just fucking irritating! Why do the google gods hate me so much that they actually want me to have to spend another night with my mother?”

“Why don't you get a hotel?”

“No offence to your intelligence, Oliver, but do you know how expensive airport hotels are? Do I really look like someone who can afford to just drop 700 bucks on a hotel room for one night?” She asked, slightly snappily as she took her phone out from her purse.

“I don't mind paying for a room for you,”

“Don't be ridiculous. You don't even know me! Why would you even offer?”

“Because, like I already said earlier, I have a boring job that pays well and I like you Felicity. You’ve made this delayed flight one of the most interesting evenings of my life. In my mind it's completely reasonable of me to at least offer to pay for your room for that,”

For not the first time that night, Felicity was completely taken aback by what Oliver was saying. Everything in her was telling her to argue with him, to tell him how stupid it was for him to even offer such a thing, that she’d be fine just staying one more night with her mom, wishing him a good life and then never speaking to him again. Because that was the reality, right? If she didn't accept his offer she’d go back to her mom’s place and he’d check into a hotel and they'd probably end up on different flights home and never see each other again. The thought made her swallow hard. She hated to admit how much she grown to enjoy Oliver’s company over the last few hours. She knew letting him pay for her hotel room would be selfish, but he had offered; no one was forcing him to do that.

“You really don't owe me anything, Oliver. I haven't done anything except be my normal, embarrassing self,” Felicity laughed softly, catching his eye.

“Not embarrassing. Endearing. I already told you,”

She rolled her eyes in dismissal at his comment but felt her cheeks warm anyway. She couldn't decide whether she absolutely hated or actually kind of liked the effect he had on her. It had been a long time since she’d experienced these kinds of emotions and deep down, she really was enjoying them.

“Okay fine, if I agree and let you pay for my room, will you promise to stop saying things like that, please?”

Oliver chuckled. “Deal. Any preference? I've heard the Hilton is nice.”

She opened her mouth to argue that the Hilton was far too expensive, but the look on his face told her it wasn't worth it. Sighing, she relented.

“I literally do not care. As long as you don't tell me how much you're paying and as long as I can finally sleep, I honestly don't care.”

Laughing, Oliver took out his phone and began to dial.

*

Barely an hour passed before they were standing in the lobby of one of the nicest hotels Felicity had ever been in. She felt completely out of place in her crumpled dress and no makeup, dragging her non-designer suitcase behind her now that they'd been given back their luggage, but she was slowly reaching that point of sleep deprivation where she could feel the earth actually vibrating under her feet and she really just needed to sleep. Thankfully the only people around at 3 in the morning to judge her were the receptionists on the desk.

“Hi, I called earlier and made a last minute reservation? It's Oliver Queen,” Oliver said to the girl behind the desk, flashing her a gorgeous smile that she could tell the girl appreciated, even though she remained professional and didn't react.

Felicity fought the urge to snort upon hearing his last name. Queen was such an elite sounding surname. No wonder he had plenty of money. She imagined with a surname like that, that money just fell into your bank account. But it suited him. It suited him a lot. She hated to admit that hearing his full name actually made him more attractive. She wondered if he had a middle name.

“One room, yes?” The receptionist asked.

“No, two. I asked for two rooms. Under the same name,”

“Oh, I'm sorry, sir. We only have one room available. Due to the weather we’ve had an influx of bookings and the only room left is a double room,”

“That's okay, we’ll take it,”

Felicity almost choked on her tongue at that. They were absolutely not going to take that room.

Somehow managing to hold onto her composure when all she wanted to do was yell, she cleared her throat as politely as possible to get his attention.

“Oliver? Can I speak to you a sec, please? Over there?” She asked, gesturing to their left away from the desk.

Oliver gave the receptionist a slightly apologetic look before following Felicity to where they were out of earshot. Or out of earshot enough that she could talk in a raised whisper without worrying too much about being heard.

“What are you doing?” She asked, not at all caring about being polite now.

“You need to sleep. I'm getting you somewhere to do that,”

“But they only have one room! Where are you going to sleep?!”

“I'll be fine. I'll let you have the bed and I'll just stay up and watch TV or something. Don't worry, honestly,”

“You are not going to pay for a room and then not even sleep in it, Oliver,”

She watched him smirk a little at that and slowly realised how slightly suggestive her choice of words sounded.

“Not that there would be anything wrong with that, I mean, what you choose to do in your own time is none of my business and if you want to pay for a hotel room just to have sex or something, that's completely your choice. Not that that's what we're going to do. Not at all. I mean, I'm sure that would be nice but we’re not going to do that. That's not what I meant at all- you know? I really don't appreciate you laughing at me right now, Oliver. I'm really fucking angry actually at how crazy you're acting,”

He stopped smirking then, clearly realising she was serious, probably taken aback once again by her cursing, and that now wasn't the time to make fun of her. He frowned.

“What is so crazy about me wanting to make sure you get some sleep?! Why can't you just let me do that for you? I really think you're overreacting,”

“I’m overreacting? Why are you so adamant on being so ridiculous all the time, Oliver? I'm not going to have you pay for a room with only one bed if you're not going to sleep in it and that's that. So how about you take the room and I'll just go back to the airport and wait there,”

“Now who’s being ridiculous? You can't just sit in an airport all night! What if you fall asleep and someone steals your stuff?” Oliver argued, his mouth forming a firm line.

God, he was exasperating. She was definitely right earlier about him being annoying underneath all the cute. She couldn't believe they were bickering like this in the middle of a fancy hotel lobby but more than that, she couldn't believe the way Oliver was acting. How was he so chill and calm about them sharing a room? Had he forgotten that until a couple of hours ago, neither of them had even known about the other’s existence? And that aside, she really didn't know if she could handle being cooped up in a hotel room with Oliver all night. How was she supposed to stop herself from babbling inappropriately for hours? She couldn't, she knew she couldn't.

“Why would someone even steal my- you know what? I'm not even going to argue with you. I'm calling a cab and going back to the airport,”

She turned away from him and started to head back towards the desk but she felt Oliver's hand on her arm then, taking hold of her wrist and effectively stopping her in her tracks. All of the fight had disappeared from his face then and for the first time that night, she realised how truly exhausted he looked.

“Please, Felicity. Don't be like this. You're tired and you need to rest. Just take the room. Please,”

Loooord he had to stop looking at her like that. He really did. She was going to have a heart attack if she saw him make that stupid little puppy face again tonight. And his hands were on her again. His fucking hands that were soft and warm and firm all at the same time and making her skin tingle wherever they touched.

Suddenly feeling dead on her feet, Felicity sighed in defeat.

“Fine. We’ll take the room. But the bed is yours. I'll sleep on the couch. There has to be a couch in the room somewhere. That's my final offer before I call a cab and go back to the airport,”

Oliver practically beamed at her then and she felt herself blush. “Deal,” he smiled, moving his hand from her wrist to her palm and giving her hand a shake.

She smiled back, trying to look begrudging but got lost in how nice it felt to hold his hand. Nice wasn't a strong enough word but she didn't have the energy or brain capacity to think of a better adjective right now. She fought off the urge to giggle - yes, to giggle - at how nice it felt to have his hand in hers. She didn't even have the presence of mind to tell herself to get a grip. And if Oliver noticed the giddiness she could feel in her eyes just then, he didn't say.

It was going to be a long night.

If you want to be tagged in my fics/chapter updates, feel free to let me know! :)

(Also, let me know if there’s anything you don’t want to be tagged in! i.e. fics that aren’t strictly Olicity/Arrow, I’m more than happy to remove tags!)

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[badideasat5am-blog]

Post #419

-Meercat: mid year stream of consciousness update-

In April, I started seeing this guy. I met him through a dating app that rhymes with schminder. We talked for like a week on the app before meeting, which is actually a really long time. It’s a little strange now though because we’ve been dating for almost three months, which yes, is not a lot of time, but it’s been roughly half the time I’ve moved to DC. So I will go back to those early year frustrations at the end of this year, but I thought I would do a check in, because it’s about mid(ish) year, yay for July 4th! I posted my fears for the year on January 9th, 2017.

I moved to DC for an internship at a really cool humanitarian agency that did really cool things. As cool as it was, it was hard because it wasn’t what I wanted to do in my career. However, I was lucky enough to be able to relocate myself in DC and for that, I could not be more grateful. I was on my own for the first time in a LONG time and I am so grateful to have been able to move out and do things on my own. 

The internship was ... not well structured. I was thrown into the deep end with my internship duties, goals, and purposes--which is totally fine. But I was blindsided about when it was going to end and what the situation was going forward with the team. It all worked out. But basically as soon as I moved up here, I started looking for jobs -- passively at first and then extremely actively towards the end of my internship. I still didn’t have a job. 

When I completed my internship, I was lost for a little (long) while. I didn’t know what was going to happen, do I move back home? What do I do? I didn’t know what I was doing, but I figured I should find something that’s going to get me where I want to go. I looked for a job, like, everyday. I applied to about 3 jobs per day, taking about 3 hours each per application. So I would get up, look for and apply to jobs. It was horrible, but it was an experience that I hope I don’t have to do again for a whiiiiiile. But it was what it was and I am lucky enough to have the funds to support me through this. Thanks, Mom. 

As you can probably tell by the time I’m putting into this, I have found a job. In addition to the 3 job applications per day rule that I set for myself, I also went to career fairs and continued networking my way around DC. I found my current job through a one-day career fair event. I met with a recruiter and was lucky enough to be qualified for a few open positions in the company. It was honestly just luck. And preparation. But mostly luck. 

I could go on and on about the depths of my job searching, the minor highs and the very low lows. But it’s quite dark. I was lucky enough to go on about one interview per week, but I was applying to A LOT OF FUCKING JOBS. I looked for jobs that I was only moderately interested in and applied to anything that I was remotely qualified for. I didn’t hear back from a LOT of places, but ultimately, you just need one connection and one job. 

As I said, I was lucky enough to go on a job interview per week. I went on three actual interviews but all of those were second (or third) phase interviews. Phase One would be something like a phone interview, phase two could be something like an excel/word/computer assessment. I never stopped applying to jobs even if I had interviews, so when the interview request came, so did the rejections. It was okay though, I did learn a lot. 

I learned a lot from the interviews I failed, like pre-research is a MUST, always make sure your throat is not dry (a little moistened), don’t wear crazy makeup (interviewers, too), and the list goes on. But by far, one of THE most frustrating things is when you go on an interview and NEVER hear back. I’m still really really bitter about this one job that told me they’d contact me, and then they NEVER did. It’s way, way, way worse than having someone ghost on you while dating because you can live without dating, but you can’t live without a job. I was beyond frustrated, but much like anything else in life, on to the next one. From each interview I learned and from each experience I grew. Blah, blah, blah. 

The important lesson I learned here is to NEVER give up. Maybe I’m just one of those people who goes on two mediocre things before finding one that really sticks. I don’t know.

Back to dating. His animal will be ... eagle. He is in the Army. So he will be leaving me in August. His duty station is in South Korea. When we were talking on the app that rhymes with schminder, he told me he was here for training and that he would be leaving in August. But it wasn’t until like the 5th date that that came up again. By then, I was already pretty invested in this human and I KNEW I was in tooooo deep. Too late. So I accepted the fact that he was leaving and because of it, I’m learning so much about how to deal with an expiration date on a relationship. It’s a little weird and the situation would be really different if I was a little bit older. But at this age, it’s okay and I really appreciate the situation I am in. Eagle’s taught me a lot about everything, but specifically in regards to how LUCKY I am that I have the ability to do all these things without a job. Thanks, Mom. I’ve been full time job searching and I don’t have much savings since I used a lot of it when I moved, I did an unpaid internship and was able to survive. This has taught me to be even more grateful for my mom, though I don’t know how much of that has to do with me not living with her anymore and therefore am not stuck living with certain things. 

Since Eagle and I started dating, we basically spend every second that we can together which has weeded out a bunch of “friends”. But Eagle has been really helpful being something to really, genuinely look forward to, especially during the month of June when my job was to full-time look for a job. I was so, so lucky enough to find a job in the 3rd week I was job-hunting. Every weekday was really, really frustrating, but I SO looked forward to spending my weekends with Eagle. That really helped me break down my weeks and have something to really look forward to during my time of stress. He has been massively helpful and I should probably tell him. But he is exactly what I needed.

In this time that I’ve job hunted, I’ve had a lot of time to think about life, love, and happiness because I’m not really in contact with humans as frequently as before and I don’t get out of my head as much.

I think in this time I’ve learned to be really, really grateful for all the people I have in my life. For instance, my mom, my sister, Hummingbird (+other real friends), and Eagle. People are what make this life worth it. The relationships you share with the people in your life are sorta kinda the only things that matter. 

You can’t take money with you and I don’t think I’ve ever heard any anecdote with someone on their deathbed saying: I wish I made more money. It’s always, something about family/relationships with other people. I don’t know if I’m just in a funky mood or it’s just the first time in a really, really long time that I’ve just been able to take a breath and actually have less anxiety about it all. But here I am, taking a deep breath. I’m probably going to go to the National Zoo tomorrow, because why the fuck not. 

July 5, 2017 0249h

[easyfoodnetwork]

A booth at Guerrilla Tacos | Colin Wolf We spent a month preparing to safely reopen our restaurant. Five hours after opening our doors, the state made us close again. This is Eater Voices, where chefs, restaurateurs, writers, and industry insiders share their perspectives about the food world, tackling a range of topics through the lens of personal experience. First-time writer? Don’t worry, we’ll pair you with an editor to make sure your piece hits the mark. If you want to write an Eater Voices essay, please send us a couple paragraphs explaining what you want to write about and why you are the person to write it to voices@eater.com. It is July 1, 2020, a little after 8:30 a.m. In just a few hours, we are finally going to reopen our dining room for the first time since lockdown orders went into effect in Los Angeles on March 16. Since Day One of the lockdown, we have innovated and adapted to keep the lights on in our taco restaurant, with a small takeout and delivery operation that employed 10 percent of our original staff. Now, I’m excited and nervous; these are uncertain times and we never know what’s coming next. At 8:36 a.m., I receive an email from the Independent Hospitality Coalition, a group of California hospitality industry workers that I belong to. “Hearing from our people that the governor is going to announce that restaurants in some counties (including LA) will be closing indoor dining rooms at his noon press conference today,” it says. I immediately grab my chefs and managers and tell them the news. There is silence for a while, during which I think about everything we did to get to this day to reopen. My stomach drops and I begin to rant. They never should have let us open, I say. We all knew this was going to happen. I text my good friend and mentor, Melissa, the director of operations at République. She tells me that she is hearing the same thing. République opened not long after restaurants were first told they could reopen on May 29, and even as one of the best-run restaurant operations in LA, it has been hard for them. People are not ready to eat out, and too many of those who are are not taking the masks and social distancing seriously. So I ask myself: Now what do we do? In the two weeks leading up to this morning, we did 32 full hours of training on new COVID-19 protocols and safety measures and the importance of taking the pandemic seriously. We updated our menu, purchased the PPE required for reopening safely, invested in training, redesigned the restaurant’s layout, and did construction to create more space and incorporate plexiglass dividers. I could see, even through their masks and face shields, that my staff was excited and comfortable about reopening, and to have jobs again. We were doing everything by the book and taking the time needed to do it right. We had hope! And now, this morning, we still have a restaurant to open. But all I can do is wait for the governor’s press conference, which is still 90 minutes away. At 10:45 a.m., our GM, Gretel, does the line-up as if nothing is wrong. Spirits are so high among our staff, and we don’t want to bring them down. But I can’t stop thinking about what’s going to come next. At 11 a.m., I go hide in my office. My partner, Dan, arrives at the restaurant to console me. The staff was so excited, and now I’m going to have to furlough them all again. I can’t take it, and I start crying. For the last four months, I’ve been on the verge of a mental breakdown, and now I think Dan is concerned that this will push me over the edge. When LA County told us that restaurants could reopen on May 29, I also heard the news from my friends in the Independent Hospitality Coalition. I didn’t believe them: There was no way we could reopen without any warning. Well, I was dead wrong — we were given the green light to reopen on the “honor system,” meaning that if we followed all of the county’s guidelines and safety rules, we could open that same night. Less than an hour after the announcement, I got a message from my landlord’s broker. “Congratulations on being able to reopen,” he said. My heart sank as my mind translated his message into: “Send the check when you can!” Shortly after, I was on a call with the Independent Hospitality Coalition. No one I spoke with was feeling ready to reopen. Our dining rooms had turned into dry storage, our staff was furloughed. But our members were already driving past restaurants that had reopened, hastily “complying” with the guidelines. How could anyone have done it safely in 24 hours? We knew this was a problem: With no lead-in time to prepare, restaurant operators were being rewarded for rushing to open, and their prize was making as much money as quickly as possible. I wanted to stay closed. However, as other restaurants began to open their dining rooms and people grew more eager to leave the house, our takeout business started to fall steeply. With our PPP funds drying up, I had to make the call to reopen as safely as humanly possible. As we began preparing, the team spent so much time thinking about our customers and our staff: How do we keep them safe? How do we behave as responsible members of our community? With no lead-in time to prepare, restaurant operators were being rewarded for rushing to open, and their prize was making as much money as quickly as possible. But even as we were holding ourselves to this standard, we had empathy for the operators who had just rolled the dice and said “fuck it” and decided to open. It is desperate times for restaurants, and many of us feel as though we have no choice: As operators, we work 12- to 14-hour days and typically haven’t been able to pool enough of our time or financial resources to be in the back pocket of the politicians making decisions. Now, as I wait for the governor’s announcement, I ask myself what’s changed since May 29. Back then, our county didn’t meet any of the state’s requirements for reopening. And we still don’t. I feel completely abandoned by our leaders, and like we’ve lost for trying to comply and be as safe and careful as possible. Recently, there was a bill in the California State Senate that really could have made a restaurant industry comeback possible during COVID-19: SB 939. It basically required landlords to enter rent renegotiations with tenants, and it would have given tenants and small businesses leverage to walk away without consequence if they couldn’t make it work. Members of the IHC, myself included, reached out to state senators, and many spoke with us. But when the bill reached the appropriations committee in late June, it was killed by real estate groups with money. Before the committee voted on the bill, we could not even get a Zoom meeting with state Sen. Anthony J. Portantino, its LA-based chair. We — the small businesses that employ almost half of California’s citizens and are on the ground trying to work with our landlords — mattered too little to him. When IHC contacted him after the bill died, he said he had no clue that landlords were not negotiating with tenants. We’ve since met with many politicians who have echoed the same sentiment: They truly believe that most landlords are working with tenants. In my experience, this is not the case. Our elected officials’ total lack of consideration for a whole industry is unforgivable; anyone who loves going to restaurants or grabbing a drink after work should be pissed. If I was feeling petty, I would suggest every restaurant refuse service to politicians. Instead, I’m focusing on the Restaurants Act, a new bill being proposed in the Senate in Washington D.C. that could save us; it would establish a $120 billion relief fund that would be used to provide grants to independent restaurants. My true hope is that we can mobilize the restaurant industry to get it passed. Enjoying good food is a bipartisan issue. As a woman of color, it feels wrong to be upset about this, given the systemic racist bullshit that is being protested around the country, and the basic equality and liberty that some of us are denied as its citizens. I am pulled back and forth between being upset as an operator and being upset as a non-Black person of color. At 12 p.m., I listen to the governor confirm the earlier rumors: Restaurants are closed again. Again, I ask myself, what do I do now? I am just out here trying to survive, trying to build generational wealth, trying to employ a great team of people. I am angry. As a woman, I am angry. As a small business owner, I am angry. As a non-Black person of color, I am angry. There is no winning for the little guys. We are under the boot of big business, politicians with price tags, and a system that has set us up to fail. Before the pandemic, it was easy to ignore these long-standing truths; I was busy and hustling. But now, it is impossible. And it’s one reason that Dina Samson, the co-owner of Rossoblu, and I, have been working on a project we tried to start before the pandemic: a guide to help educate our local leaders on how difficult it is to operate a restaurant in the city and how they can help. The pandemic has forced us to make time to do it. At 4 p.m., we close our dining room. After a month of planning, it was open for five hours. We’re back to where we were before May 29, but now with less funds, too much inventory, and the dashed hopes of 45 people. At 4:34 p.m., the chefs, managers, and I are sitting around a table. We’ve been here twice before: when the lockdown orders were announced in March, and when the dine-in orders were announced in May. We’ll adapt again. We always do. At 6:13 p.m., the managers call our employees to furlough them again. Brittney Valles is the longtime managing partner of Guerrilla Tacos, a restaurant in Los Angeles. from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3jAZKpk

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